#reason the first half of the first level takes place in a carnival though is because the guy that 'accompanies' you

[love-fireflysong]

Welp, finally got to play Until Dawn: Rush of Blood last night, and honesty guys? It was such a fun game holy shit. Only took me a little over 2 hours to beat the game, and I totally would have started over and hunted for my missing trophies (cause I have a problem lol) and ‘skittles’ if it wasn’t for the fact that I can only use the vr headset for ~3 hours before it gives me a headache 😢

As expected though, game was chock full of all sorts of ud easter eggs and every time I entered an area of a level and recognized exactly where in the game I was supposed to be or I recognized character models that were being reused I got super giggly. Like you wouldn’t believe the amount of times I blew kisses when ever the psycho entered the scene to try and scare/terrorize me...even when Psycho!Josh was being a complete dick and kept killing me like ten times with his stupid axe as all those Matt’s in clown masks kept throwing molotovs at me lol.

Speaking of Josh, you even kinda sorta play as him maybe? Cause when I looked down to see if I even had a body or if I was just a pair of floating arms with guns, I was 100% wearing Josh’s overalls. Which is interesting, cause during the moments after levels when I’m sitting in a chair in the sanitorium I don’t have a body at all so they really didn’t need to go through all that work imo.

And obviously, they reused character models as previously hinted at by clown mask wearing Matt’s throwing molotov cocktails at me. Got to see all the boys in fact! Whether they were Chris, Cabin!Mike, Sanitorium!Mike, Matt, Regular!Josh, Psycho!Josh, and even Fiddler hilariously enough, they just coming at me in all forms. From wearing clown or pig masks to just being plain ass zombies, they were intent on killing me let me tell you. Sadly, though none of the girls made an appearance 😔 (which is a shame cause I totally think would have loved multiple Ashley’s in a clown mask of her own trying to stab me with scissors, it’s what she would have deserved imo) They didn’t even make little cameo’s as body’s on hooks in the mines like the rest of the guys did for some reason. Closest I got to seeing any of the girls was in the second level, and that’s just because a portion of it has all the doll’s that Josh set up in the dollhouse so I kept seeing their respective dolls over and over again.

The only girls that made any sort of appearance were Hannah and Beth (mostly Hannah obvs lol), and that was mostly for jump scare and horror reasons due to being dead and all. Though for some reason Hannah was wearing a bow in her hair?

(Like don’t get me wrong, even being totally dead and decaying she is rocking that hair bow let’s be real. It’s just such an odd choice, and I have no idea why they felt the need to add that to the character model?)

But seriously, if any of you ever have a chance to play this, I really REALLY suggest you give it a go. It’s a super short game but was so fucking fun oh my god.

Cannot wait to give it another run through tonight!

[maschotch]

like and when people get mad at the valid criticisms of her. it's like, I'm sorry the character you created is not the one in the show?? she doesn't have enough/anything that makes her likable enough to outweigh the things in canon that make her unlikable! like no thanks!

"she's just the vessel for the writers shitty idea of what a strong woman looks like" soo true though. every attempt falls flat, or upholds stereotypes and her inability to look outside her own experiences

the fucksibdjdjfkdkg "my friends call me jj. you're not my friend you can call me jennifer"

its so fucking elementary afsgdghdjfh 9 year olds say worse to each other. it's not the slay moment everyone thinks it is

one instance in particular i can't stand is in s3ep14, they're at that carnival for rossi's case, and derek says "I can't believe people waste good money on these fixed games" and girlboss jj says "men" "its not people it's men" "only a man would waste $50 trying to win that $3 stuffed animal"

and just. parents. parents bring their kids to carnivals all the time. to have fun and win shitty prizes. oh but I forgot she wasn't a mom yet, so that wasn't her entire personality. I don't know. for me it just never hits as the girlboss moment every one thinks it is. but go off I guess afsghdhfkh

I've fallen out of it with cm a little lately, but unfortunately it will always have some hold on my soul lmao, and I got caught up in reading through your takes, and truly, this show fucking sucks, but analyzing it can be sO fun and you drop nothing but bangers. it reminded me in a way why I like this god awful show in the first place afgsgrhfjfjgshf

like if anyone gave me a single solid reason to like her character at all i might give her a chance. but i’ve been watching cm for a decade, and kept a finger on the pulse of the fandom for half that. so far ive heard absolutely no legitimate thing to like about her

even fanon jj falls flat for me? she’s so one dimensional and they never address any of her flaws. people either make her the target of emily’s infatuation (which is so fucked up on so many levels?? as if we need any more of the aggressive/obsessive lesbian stereotype) or they keep her as the mom of the group and leave it at that. absolutely NO nuance!! im convinced its bc they know we’re right… actually giving her a personality would mean acknowledging how insufferable she us

imo the best thing you can do with her character is actually talk about her internal conflicts. she’s got massive imposter syndrome and she takes it out on everyone!! thats interesting at least!! lets talk about that!! but nooo bc that would mean admitting everyones favorite blonde haired blue eyes beauty makes mistakes

god ur so right in that aaaaaall her girlboss moments are just so pathetic. i love to tear those moments to pieces because its just so fucking easy. clearly shitty attempts at the writers thinking theyre saying something clever or profound. it scares me how frequently the fandom falls for it. like. develop some critical thinking skills pls i am begging

im also well out of my cm phase, but its still so deeply engrained that even when i havent watched an ep in months, my opinions are as strong as ever especially since theyre always so correct. but yeah there’s something so special about cm? i think its all the half-suggested hints at something deeper that gives us a chance to try and build on it. but its also so casually entertaining that its also nice to just have on in the background. criminal minds is as good as you make it, ig

[erazonpo3]

WOWM

so What Once Was Mine came out and I read it.

My General Thoughts are that this book was something of a rollercoaster but in like a pop up carnival with dubious safety regulations and diseases in the DIY log flume water kind of way. I had some fun reading it but I also feel like I picked up a rash.

If you're like me and you enjoy picking a book apart for morsels of interesting concepts then you might enjoy it, if you think holy shit why the fuck is a literal real historical serial killer in this book I need to see this then you might enjoy it, if you care about engaging plots and character beats then you probably won't.

If you want to ask me anything specific go ahead, but otherwise for more in depth thoughts: spoilers ahead

Basic Summary of the Plot

Okay so here's the deal. The story has the framing device of two siblings in a cancer ward, where one tells the other a story. I'll get into that later, but that's how it starts. Our actual story starts with a pretty long prologue: We learn that the King & Queen got the Moonflower thinking it was the Sunflower, Rapunzel was born with silver hair, and then baby Rapunzel kills a maid who accidentally hurt her when brushing her hair.

Oh, by the way, Max is a human man named Justin Tregsburg. Yeah.

Anyway, the royal family puts out feelers for legit witches who can safely take care of Rapunzel because the baby is too dangerous, and Gothel shows up to take her away. Queen Arianna visits Rapunzel once (but is only allowed to watch through a peephole) and decides watching another woman raise her child is too painful and throws herself into restoring the kingdom's orphanages instead.

Now we're in the present. Rapunzel is nineteen and she wants to go and see the lanterns (a mourning tradition of the Dead princess in this story). She tries to argue with Gothel but gets shut down, and Gothel makes her kill a chicken to prove the point that she can't go outside because she's too dangerous. However we as the audience already know Gothel plans to sell Rapunzel off as a bride or a servant or a weapon to some other nobles, because she's evil.

Also by the way Gothel still has access to our Sundrop Flower and is using it to live forever that's just a thing that happens in the background.

When Gothel is gone Rapunzel watches as a man (Flynn) stores a satchel in a tree outside of her tower, and that motivates her to leave the tower for the first time. Then she goes back inside the tower with her prize of a crown, and a skink she found and named Pascal. Rapunezl and Gothel have another spat, and Rapunzel decides she will run off to see the lanterns and she will find Flynn and make him her guide.

She ends up at the Snuggly Duckling and she doesn't find Flynn but she does find Gina, a young career criminal girl looking to break the glass ceiling. Gina agrees to help her find Flynn. They find Flynn, and he agrees to help guide Rapunzel to see the floating lanterns for a split reward of the crown with Gina.

The Snuggly Duckling gets burned down by Countess Bathory (yes that Elizabeth Bathory) and the Pub Thugs are pissed about it and also they're helping Rapunzel even though she didn't sing the I've Got A Dream song don't worry about it. We learn that the nobles that wanted to buy Rapunzel are now hunting her down so she can go to auction.

Gina takes them to her adopted mother's cottage. Gina's mother is a white witch, who goes by the name of Goodwife. She doesn't get an actual name she's just The Goodwife. Anyhow, the cottage is a magic safe space (for now) and Goodwife teaches Rapunzel that her hair isn't inherently evil and may not even be all that deadly! Rapunzel learns that her hair has other powers too, like the ability to turn skink Pascal into a sentient Chameleon. Yeah.

Also Goodwife tells Rapunzel she's the dead princess but this isn't like, an immediate call to action. Not a lot happens until we get this story's version of the Mother Knows Best Reprise where Gothel finds Rapunzel again but has to flee, but this Rapunzel has a bigger support network and isn't buying it. Flynn and Gina decide the safest course of action is to bring Rapunzel to the castle, but along the way she gets kidnapped by the Countess.

Gothel is pissed because she still wants the money for Rapunzel, so she rallies the armies of all the opposing bidders. Flynn and Gina convince Max the Man to send for his troops, and he joins them in going to the enemy castle. Flynn tries to sneak in, gets caught, and meanwhile there's a bloody battle out the front between the noble armies. Max jumps into the fray, Gina turns around and rallies the Pub Thugs.

Rapunzel uses her shrinking magic (!) to disappear half the castle and escape with Eugene, and the Pub Thugs arrive and basically end the battle. The Captain is dying but it's okay! Rapunzel turns him into a horse :) Also Rapunzel sees Gothel and tells her to fuck off.

The story ends with a tearful reunion between Rapunzel and her parents, Eugene and Gina are implied to be biological siblings, and things are good but of course in direct parallel to Cass Gina leaves at the end to become an adventurer. The end.

(There are a few other smaller plot beats, but you get the idea.)

MY THOTS

So here are my thoughts™.

Framing Device

I'll just state that I didn't like that the story was told via the vehicle of an older brother telling his 16 year old sister a different version of the Tangled Movie in a cancer ward. From what I've heard it also isn't normal for the Twisted Tales series to use a framing device for the AUs either.

I sympathise with the author's personal story, of course I do. That doesn't mean I'm stirred with compassion every time the flow of the story is interrupted to remind you to be sad because this is a story being told to a girl sick with cancer. It feels more than a little tragedy-porny rather than emotionally touching, and maybe that's because I'm too burnt out on real life tragedy to waste emotional energy on fictional cancer patients but we don't need to do Fault In Our Stars discourse again.

Real World References

This story goes heavy with Real World references. And another issue with the framing device as above is that you do feel like this is a story being told by someone namedropping every historical figure they know which makes it harder to get into the story.

There's like... a lot of references to Christianity, particularly in the prologue. There's a priest that thinks Rapunzel's hair is the work of the Devil or whatever. It's a lot. The Patriarchy is a thing. And that's not even getting into the Countess. I put it very succinctly in my notes so I'll paste it here:

I wish she’d just been an OC who could exist to chew scenery because the fact that she was a literal historical serial killer is super. Off putting. Like, she could have been an obvious reference to Bathory, but it feels like Miku Binder Hamilton levels of uncomfortable to me.

I miss Lady D.

Which basically sums up my problem with trying to take the setting of Tangled and put it somewhere in the Real World and somewhere on the Timeline. Who thought this was a good idea.

Misc. Thoughts

So, I used the five highlighter colours my ipad allows to organise my thoughts and organised them accordingly: Yellow for out of place IRL references, Blue for worldbuilding/character points that aren't plot relevant but still interesting, Pink for when something I find personally amusing happens, Purple for when the story feels like it's trying to 1-up the movie in some kind of way and Green for Heterosexual Nonsense. I'll touch on those last two in the Character sections but be prepared.

Also: for a book about giving Rapunzel killer hair, her hair isn't very dangerous. I wanted to see Rapunzel kill someone, and I'm disappointed that I didn't.

Characters

I'll do a deep dive into my thoughts about the characters before wrapping it up. I'm starting with Gina because she's honestly the easiest to get through.

Gina

Gina is a new character introduced for the story. She's a young woman trying to make it as a career criminal but keeps hitting that glass ceiling. So here's the down low, for all those who want to know: Gina is basically Cass, only not really. She's implied to be Eugene's biological sister, as previously mentioned, but you can imagine she's Cass the entire way through without breaking your immersion because if you imagined Cass if she were adopted by a Goodwitch rather than the Captain and had a looser, more wilderness survivor than trainee guard upbringing then you get Gina.

I liked Gina! I think she's fun as her own character too, and her best moments are when she's interacting with her mother Goody Goodwife, and she of course picks up a natural sibling rivalry with Eugene, but I was disappointed with how little she really bonded with Rapunzel because she needed to make room for Eugene and Rapunzel's romance.

Rapunzel

Okay, here's our protagonist. There's a notable effort to make Rapunzel more active in her destiny and whatever, and sometimes it works but sometimes it doesn't. I was worried they'd try to go full butt-kicking girlboss with her but I was pleasantly surprised that Rapunzel was pretty useless in most scenes, genuinely love to see it.

With a more intimate look into Rapunzel's psyche through the medium of prose, we see Rapunzel really questioning Gothel's behaviour even before she leaves the tower, and while I appreciate that she can develop her own cynicism I feel it starts unnecessarily early. This is my purple colour; the movie needs to be "fixed" by showing the readers that this Rapunzel is quicker to distrust Gothel. She's also quicker to hatch a plan to go outside of the tower on her own, and she makes a plan to make Flynn her guide for the lanterns even though he never stumbles upon her in the tower- and even though she has a perfectly rational reason not to trust him which is that he is a stranger and a Wanted Thief.

In the moments where it does work is when Rapunzel is surrounded by her new support network: Flynn, Goodwife and Gina, who encourage her to question Gothel's sincerity, and Rapunzel comes up with her own defences for Gothel so that she can poke through them herself.

I have some other thoughts about Rapunzel's hair and her powers, like how the story provides the interesting concept that her hair gets different powers with the different phases of the moon, but a lot of the powers are uhhh stupid and also I feel like it really robs the story of the whole gripping conflict of "Yes I'm Rapunzel Yes my hair kills people what of it".

In as far as just Rapunzel herself though, she still felt pretty in character nonetheless, and maybe that's all I can ask.

Flynn Rider / Eugene Fitzherbert

My boy I am so sorry. They neutered my boy.

Long story short: Eugene in this story is the sexy lamp. He contributes nothing to the plot except to be there for Rapunzel to drool over. And of course because he won't get any character development, he starts from the very beginning as a sweet soft boi with none of the Flynn Rider characterisation from the movie because we don't have time for that, he needs to be husband material stat.

His whole character is the colour green for Heterosexual Nonsense.

So, here's the problem. In the movie, there's not a lot of time for ~friendship~ between Rapunzel and Eugene because they kind of immediately see each other as a romantic prospect. And whatever, it's a movie and there's only so much time. But this book had the opportunity to take things a bit slower and instead chooses to make Rapunzel get jealous whenever Eugene and Gina interact and for her to be constantly wishing he was holding her hand.

Say what you will about Lost Lagoon, but it tells a good romance story just by virtue of not intending to be a romance story, because the author is trying to convey a strong bond between Rapunzel and Cassandra without using "and they kiss" as a cheatcode. What Once Was Mine says "he was a boy, she was a girl, could it be any more obvious?" and leaves it at that.

Now as for how this all pertains to Eugene's character? Well, it just robs him of any flavour. In the movie there's a clear distinction between Flynn and Eugene, when we learn Eugene's real name about halfway through. We see a clear difference between the Flynn we knew- kind of an asshole, wanated to drop Rapunzel off at the Snuggly Duckling and get rid of her- and Eugene, who is sincere and chooses Rapunzel as his New Dream in opposition to his Old Dream of living alone on an island with a bunch of money.

This version of Eugene is basically Eugene all the way through, because the plot doesn't really need Eugene there but he has to be there because it's a Tangled AU so there's no Rapunzel rescuing Flynn from the guards and healing his hand scene, he just loves her immediately and that's that. They have a little spat at one point but it's cleared up later and not because they actually communicate but because they kiss.

Rapunzel only learns Eugene's real name at the very end of the story, and gives a speech about how Eugene is the real him, but it's just so flat because 'Flynn' has been sincere this whole time? Anyway he does nothing of value for the entire story except be there for Rapunzel to lust after. Eugene I'm so sorry.

Gothel

Gothel's sort of the Big Bad and is characterised as an abusive asshole, the usual. I wish there were a bit more nuance to her character but then again in this story she's not just being passively evil- taking care of Rapunzel for selfish reasons but nevertheless maintaining the status quo- she's being actively evil in trying to sell Rapunzel off.

It's notably funny that Gothel sees the Countess Bathory and is like "what the fuck".

Anyway Gothel in this story also feels very weak in part because this Rapunzel is more critical and in part because this Rapunzel has a new support network. It's for that reason the Mother Knows Best Reprise scene doesn't really work, because the original has Gothel pit Rapunzel against Eugene, whereas she can't do that here so it remains a Gothel vs Rapunzel thing.

She gets a boring death as an epilogue addendum that someone rips out the Sundrop flower, which tbh? lame. It would be a lot more fun if it were open ended but I am also preferential to Rapunzel actually using her killer hair to kill someone. Please

Captain Justin Tregsburg

It's Max. He was a human but then he got turned into a horse. what the fuck you guys

[cheri-translates]

[CN] 3rd Anniversary Love Carnival - Victor

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Victor’s Prologue: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here

[ PART ONE ]

The moment we step into the carnival venue, my gaze is completely consumed by a gigantic merry-go-round.

MC: What a dream-like merry-go-round! Let’s ride this as our first attraction!

When Victor sees the golden coloured merry-go-round before him, his expression freezes in place for a moment. However, he still stands in the queue with me.

MC: Eh? You’re agreeing just like that?!

MC: “I don't waste my time on such senseless things”.

I mimic Victor, channelling a stern expression.

MC: Don’t you typically say that? Why did you agree so quickly today?

I make a face at him. When Victor sees this, he furrows his brows and gives me a gentle knock on the head.

Victor: Spending my time on a pointless rejection is even more of a waste.

I turn around, glaring at Victor. However, all he does is stare back plainly at me.

Victor: Because of a certain childish individual, my tolerance levels have increased by quite a lot.

I specially pick a double-manned horse. Along with the romantic music, the horses start ascending and descending, moving in a circular motion.

Couples in the surroundings are raising their phones, taking photographs with various poses. Every screen is filled with brilliant smiles.

Somewhat influenced by such an atmosphere, I turn my head to look at Victor.

As expected, Victor, who is sitting on a black steed, looks so stern that it’s as though he’s participating in some investment report meeting.

Sensing the gaze I tossed at him, Victor looks at me.

Victor: What is it?

MC: Victor, do you want to smile a little?

Victor: Why?

MC: Because when people are happy, they’d subconsciously want to smile. In the happiest place on earth, and having such an adorable lady in front of you, don't you feel even the slightest bit of happiness?

Victor: You aren’t humble at all.

Despite what he says, I can clearly see a handsome arc at the corners of his lips.

MC: Can you appreciate the joys of being on a merry-go-round now?

Victor: That’s only if seeing you look silly counts as one of the joys.

MC: Can’t you just honestly say that you’re very happy when you’re with me?

I wave my fist at him in a threatening manner.

Victor sighs. Looking back at me, he says in resignation:

Victor: I’m happy. But it has nothing to do with the merry-go-round.

As the music gradually softens, and the merry-go-round is about to complete its turn, I realise that we haven’t taken a picture yet.

Just as I adjust the angle, attempting to include Victor into the frame to obtain a “group photo”, he senses what I'm planning to do.

Victor takes my phone, then leans down closer to me.

Victor: Look at the camera.

He lifts the phone up, pressing the shutter.

[ PART TWO ]

MC: High-altitude glass platform bridge…?

In order to try a more unique attraction, Victor and I have come to the high-altitude glass platform bridge with the direction of the guide.

Victor: Want to try it?

After a moment of hesitance, I nod.

MC: Since we’re already here!

Looking death calmly in the face, I stare at the pathway, resolutely joining the queue.

Although I’ve already mentally prepared myself, I regret it the moment I step onto the platform bridge.

MC: I can’t do this. People need to stand on the ground!

I grip the railing at the side, carefully inching forward at a tortoise’s pace.

Just as I plan to tell Victor about my regret of overestimating my confidence, I lift my head and see him waiting for me composedly.

Likely seeing that I haven’t moved after such a long time, Victor sighs softly, walks towards me, and offers me his hand.

I immediately reach out, holding his large palm.

A warm sensation sprouts from our laced hands. Victor follows my pace, walking slowly to the other end of the platform bridge.

MC; You aren’t afraid?

Victor: Why should I be afraid?

He pauses for a moment, then gives me an explanation which leaves me unable to retort.

Victor: Since it’s open for visitors to experience, there are definitely sufficient safeguards to ensure the safety of the amusement facilities.

MC: …

For a moment, I actually don’t know where I should begin.

The person is the one feeling scared. What does that have to do with the safety of the facilities?

Or should I be in awe that because of such a reason, he can overcome the fear that humans have about falling from high altitudes?

Victor: If you’re really scared, don’t look under your feet. Look forward.

While doing that, I still can’t help but mutter:

MC: During such moments, shouldn’t you say things like “If you’re scared, hold me tight”, or “If you’re scared, just look at me”?

Victor casts me a glance.

Victor: Do you think that’d be useful?

MC: Mr Victor, do you know the power and vigour comfort brings?

Victor: The next time you can’t finish your proposal, I think I could reuse this saying. You can use your vigour to increase efficiency, and not ask me to postpone the meeting.

I look straight into Victor’s eyes, the discipline of the working class enabling me to harden my backbone and face this investor even at a high altitude.

MC: Are you a monster? Must you bring up things that’d upset me at this time?

Victor looks at me, a slight smile in his eyes.

Victor: You’re so full of vigour. I think you aren’t afraid anymore. All right, you can finish the rest of the path yourself.

Hearing this, I realise that the transparent glass platform has already reached its end. The following path is lined with carpet.

In the midst of our banter, I’d actually completed the entire journey without even realising it.

MC: Victor, were you deliberately criticising me earlier to divert my attention?

Victor: I should be the one with questions. When I’m by your side, where else could your focus be diverted to?

I’m left dumbfounded. Victor chuckles, as though he doesn’t care how I’d respond to his question.

Like earlier, he walks in front of me unhurriedly, not releasing the hand holding onto mine.

Victor: The next attraction probably has a queue. Follow closely.

[ PART THREE ]

MC: I didn’t expect the restaurants in the carnival to serve pretty tasty food.

I take a bite out of a heart-shaped lemon cake, and can’t help but exclaim in awe.

Initially, I had only noticed that the food laid out on the tables for patrons was shocking.

The extremely big and bold words on the leaflet - “Carnival Special Couple Set Meal” - stirred my heart.

Without another word, I pulled Victor in, pointing at the leaflet excitedly.

I didn’t expect that no matter whether it was the presentation or the taste, they left one pleasantly surprised.

MC: Victor, should Souvenir also introduce a couple set meal in the future? Like this heart-shaped cake - I’m really optimistic about its popularity in the market! I think it can attract quite a number of people.

Victor: No.

Unsurprisingly, Victor rejects my idea.

I sigh.

MC: CEO Victor, as the most ambitious and most knowledgeable on how to advance in the market, LFG is a business miracle. What does it receive most praise for? Isn’t it how it’s bold enough to try expanding its capabilities? Also, as the manager of Souvenir, are you really not considering including such a mentality into your dishes?

On the spot, I present a report involving how to expand Souvenir, and anticipate his reaction.

Victor is the same as always. Both arms are crossed over his chest as he listens to my report seriously, then he gives his comments.

Victor: The report lacks proper thought. Rejected.

MC: Why’s that?

I feel slightly indignant.

Victor sets down his hands, signalling that I should shift closer.

I have no idea what he’s planning to do, and lean over while confused.

Victor’s fingers brush against the stray hairs near my ear, rescuing a strand of hair which has been entangled with my earring.

When his finger brushes lightly against my earlobe, I suddenly think of how Victor was the one who put on this pair of earrings for me before we headed out this morning.

Victor: Souvenir isn’t a business. Its existence is unrelated to any business models.

MC: What is it related to then?

Victor: The manager’s personal preferences.

He retracts his hand, looking at me calmly.

Victor: The presentation and image of such dishes don’t suit Souvenir’s usual style.

Regretfully, I split the heart-shaped strawberry pie, placing half onto Victor’s plate.

MC: Since the manager has already put it that way…

MC: It looks like I can only seize this opportunity, and experience the fluffy, soft strawberry pie here.

I let out a soft sigh. In my mind, I can’t help but imagine - if Victor were to make this, I wonder how it’d taste.

MC: It’d definitely be several times more delicious than this.

Victor finishes the strawberry pie, and doesn’t seem to hear my soft mutter.

After a short period of silence, Victor’s serious voice pipes up.

Victor: It won’t be an item on the menu.

Victor: But this doesn’t mean I can’t make it for you once at home.

Victor elegantly cuts the food on the plate, not much expression on his face.

Only I know the warmth underneath that quiet display.

MC: When the time comes, I’ll invite Mr Victor to appraise it with me.

[ PART FOUR ]

We walk and pause, finally ending up before the Pendulum ride.

Pointing at the attraction, where shrill cries can be heard constantly, I think of that children’s day when he had taken the “Time Traveler” ride with me.

And how time had stopped for a few seconds during the descent.

[Note] This is a reference to Fairytale Date!

MC: Want to give this a try?

I turn my head, looking at Victor expectantly.

Victor: No.

As I expected, Victor rejects me.

MC: Victor, could you be scared?

Victor: Of course not.

His expression is stern, and he looks forward.

MC: In that case, ride it with me!

While saying this, I pull him along with me and we sit down.

There’s still some time before the ride begins. The chatter and laughter from people in the queue before us continuously drift over.

Enthusiastic visitor: A friend of mine took the Pendulum before. When it was over, he calmly said that it wasn’t much. In the end, he started puking after taking a few steps.

Happy visitor: Hahahaha, the same thing happened to my colleague. He sat for the ride in another place once, and screamed until his voice was hoarse at work the next day. He had to drink chinese medicine for the entire day.

I’m somewhat tickled by the conversations.

MC: They’re speaking so exaggeratedly. How could that be possible? What do you think?

The criticism I expected doesn’t arrive.

Finding this a little odd, I look at Victor, realising that he’s strapping on his seatbelt seriously, his expression stern.

Oh…?

I really wish I could take out my phone and snap a picture of this Victor before me.

The Pendulum truly lives up to its name.

At first, I even thought it’d be so-so.

But when the Pendulum’s amplitude grows increasingly larger, till it feels like I’m being tossed around, I can’t help but scream.

MC: Ahhhhh–

This! Is! Too! Scary!

Just when I’m forced to sit through these parabolic motions, my left hand is gently held onto by someone.

Bracing against the violent wind, I open my eyes. Victor is sitting straight and quietly in his seat. His posture is tense, yet he looks as though he’s very calm.

Amid the shrill screams, I can vaguely hear his voice.

Victor: Don’t be afraid.

-

Stepping off the Pendulum, I immediately grasp for the railing at the side.

However, when I see Victor’s crooked tie and slightly unkempt hair, I can’t help but burst into laughter.

This time, I don’t let this chance slip by, and keep this dishevelled Victor in my phone.

I make a decision to have this picture printed out to be placed at the bedside.

Victor: …what are you doing this time?

MC: Nothing, nothing! Oh yes, what do you think of this attraction?

Victor: …so-so.

MC: If you’re afraid, you can just say so. It’s a normal human reaction, and I won’t laugh at you.

Victor: I’m not afraid.

MC: In that case…

I look at Victor, my smile growing wider.

MC: Let’s ride it again!

Victor: …

MC: You aren’t going to prove that you aren’t afraid?

Victor: Let’s go then.

MC: Eh?

Victor: Since you’re so enthusiastic about this ride, you’ll definitely experience it together with me. Am I wrong?

Seeing Victor arch his brows slightly, and turning my game against me, I respond with certainty–

MC: I’m sorry! We’ll head to another attraction right now!

[ PART FIVE ]

Perplexed and not knowing which attraction to go to next, an uproar in front attracts my attention.

MC: Eh? Did something happen?

I pull Victor forward with me.

I see a man holding a large bunch of roses and pink balloons, kneeling down on one knee in front of a woman.

The woman’s face is red from shyness, and her eyes are filled with touching emotions and surprise.

MC: Someone’s proposing!

Looking at the scene before me, I can’t help but tilt my head and whisper into Victor’s ear as he stands beside me.

MC: It’s so sweet. I hope they can be together for a very long time!

Victor turns his head slightly, as though sensing the envy in my tone.

Victor: You’re very envious?

MC: A little.

Victor frowns slightly, looking as though he can’t comprehend it.

Very quickly, however, he seems to think of something.

Victor: Stand here and don’t move. Wait for a while.

Before I can react, Victor has already left.

I stand rooted in place.

At the side, the proposal is still ongoing. The man stammers as he takes her down a walk through memory lane, clumsily taking out a ring box.

The girl’s eyes have long since been brimming with happy tears.

I look at Victor, not knowing what he’s going to do, and not knowing what will happen next.

Under my expectant and nervous gaze, he walks over to the person selling balloons, and buys a small balloon flower.

MC: …

I knew it!

Victor: Give me your hand.

When Victor returns, he speaks in his usual tone.

Then, he holds up my hand, lowers his eyes, and ties the balloon flower to my wrist.

Seeing this childish action contrasted with Victor’s serious expression, I can’t help but chuckle.

With me, he’s done so many things that are, according to his standards, a waste of time, meaningless and utterly childish.

It doesn’t seem to be a bad thing though.

My heart is encased with a sweetness. Raising my wrist happily, I crinkle my eyes as I look at the balloon flower under the sunlight.

MC: It’s so pretty!

My gaze is completely absorbed by the balloon flower, and I don’t even notice that the crowd afar off has burst into applause. That man’s proposal probably succeeded.

Victor: You’re satisfied just like that?

MC: Hehe, the most satisfied person in the world! Let’s go, we still have to head to the next attraction.

I turn my head and prepare to leave, but Victor grabs my wrist.

MC: What…!

Pink coloured balloons and flower petals fill the air, spreading happiness all around.

And in this corner with only the two of us, a gentle kiss descends on my forehead.

Victor: The most childish person in the entire amusement park is probably right in front of me.

Victor looks at me, saying the critique that I couldn’t be more familiar with.

In his eyes, there’s also a smile and gentleness that I couldn’t be more familiar with.

The celebration and clamour have nothing to do with me.

All the happiness and clamour, all the ribbons and fresh flowers, can’t compare to a word from him.

Nor can they compare to the somewhat childish balloon flower on my wrist.

I smile while standing on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around Victor’s neck, and giving him a kiss.

MC: He’s also in front of me! Being childish with you is the happiest thing in the world.

I hear a soft chuckle, then a warm breath. Following this, my forehead feels a tender touch for the second time.

Victor: Dummy.

Fireworks event: here

[rivka-kopelman]

Delivery Lemur Logbook : 8

<view full logbook>

December 35th, 3431

Here's me, Delivery Lemur, now with a very violent murderer as my assigned sidekick. Haha he's not so bad.

I almost overfilled my coffee cup. I had to walk very slowly and carefully back to my beanbag to avoid spilling it. Lopcorn had come aboard with a big can of real coffee and generously let me have as much as I want. I spilled 2 of my first 3 cups. The 2nd spill was twice as embarrassing as the first time. I'm afraid if I waste any more he'll think I'm doing it on purpose.

We are halfway across Galaxy-1, still a long way from planet Clockmarsh, where I've gotta deliver a letter. If u didn't know, that's the most remote part of all inhabited space. The universe is pretty much in chaos now so I'm happy to have an official reason to ride out into the void.

I'm not used to having a passenger. It's fine I guess. He's snoozing right now in his army-issue pink-striped sleeping bag. Lopcorn sleeps twice as much as me. When he's awake he reads his phone, or just sits quietly. There's a funny aura of contentment around him. I think he's happy to be away from his, uh , work life. He used to do exercises but he gave it up; I think he thought I thought it was annoying (I kinda did).

I stare out the window and do nothing but drink coffee for a nice long time. Eventually my bodyguard wakes up and checks his phone before rising to pace the cabin.

“Sup,” Lopcorn mumbles.

“Just flying.” I really ought to brush my teeth, I bet my breath is kinda intense. So I do that, but halfway through the faucet jams or something and I can't rinse my mouth. I wiggle the tap around but nothing comes out.

“Blglglgllglg,” I froth.

“Huh?”

I spit. “We're out of water.”

“Huh, shit.” Lopcorn tried the faucet himself and couldn't get any water either. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Where's the closest place to get water?”

With minty bubbles trickling down the corners of my mouth, I go over to the controls and initiate an H2O scan.

“There's a wet planet at coordinates 0,0,0,” I relay. “What are the odds of that, right in the center of the chart?”

The seawater's worse than anything my purifier can take, but the ice should be okay. So. We land on Earth and I try to find some gloves cause it's snowing. I couldn't find a matching pair and had to put a left glove on my right hand which feels really stupid. I flip the switch to pop open the spout cap thing and follow Lopcorn outside with a spade. There's nothing around here but one crumbling stone tower. Lopcorn makes a snowball and gives me a “wanna play” look. I give him a wide-eyed “Please don't” look, and he desists. I get started shoveling big lumps of snow into the tank. I let Lopcorn take over when he offers since I'm getting tired, and in about one second he's got the thing filled. A seagull shows up and starts making weird noises.

“Sorry, is this your snow?” I ask. The bird just squawks in no kinda real language and flies away. “Jeez, what's wrong with him?”

Anyway, that's planet Earth. We get back in and I fire up the engines. As soon as we take off there's a loud ripping metal sound and a heavy thump.

“Did you retract the intake?” Lopcorn asks. I think about it, but I don't remember.

“I don't remember. I'll check.”

I check and it looks like the water tank got ripped out cause it was stuck in the snow. Luckily, about half a cup of H2O had made its way into the pipes so I was able to rinse my mouth. But now we are out of water again, 100%. I thought my shipmate might panic but he just sat against the wall and put his headphones in. He looked completely at ease.

“We'll have to do a little pit-stop,” I say to Lopcorn.

He nodded and said “Mmhm.” “Sodapool is close. Or Heid Station, but it's full of Tax Cats.”

“Heid station sucks. Sodapool's being searched for terrorists, the garrison won't let anyone land.”

“Oh, uhh how about Orcavíbora Station? Party central this time of year. It's two hours away though, how thirsty are you?”

“I'll make it,” he says.

In six hours we arrive. A big place like this - I can't imagine them not having a water tank compatible with my spaceship. I try to fax the visitor's center to connect me with a mechanic but the network is down. I am detecting ZUD particles in those upper domes. The rest of the station is a mixed psy/normie population.

Aahh I don't like spinning signs like this. I end up going in the wrong way - occasionally. Looks like the courier's discount parking they used to offer is gone, unless you're hauling foodstuffs. I was hoping to stay by the gate but we're gonna have to find a spot way lower.

It's really loud in here. Electric guitar and thundering copper drums echoed fore and aft. The two-week-long Festival of Year's End was in full swing, and the music would not stop until January 1st dawns. The daily feasts must be austere compared to traditional glut of fatcakes, foi tong, miguelitos, hot nachos, cold nachos, steamed butter, and jam crust. This year they're eating freeze-dried kelp and hornwort like the rest of the world, but prepared with special effort and artful presentation. Apparently the hungriest five million or so inhabitants of the station had been rioting right up until the first day of the festival, but the seasonal mood took over and no one could resist the non-stop concerts, carnivals, parades, household fêtes, weddings, games, and every other kind of noisy debauched merrymaking. Humans wore their hair Gibson-n-Glitter style. Dogs groomed themselves in a purely local fashion, with all their fur gelled forward. Snakes were done up with white carnauba lipstick and rainbow scalepaint. Glass jewellery manufactured to resemble uncut carnelian and citrine gemstones abounded on toes, tails, fingers, and ears.

We got a pretty lucky parking spot (3 hour limit) on the edge of the cheapest commercial dock just as a karaoke barge full of flamingos took off. I got a physical copy of the services index and found directions to a nearby garage. It was closed, but when we knocked, a ferret emerged from the little house on top of it and invited us upstairs. It was a low-ceiling modular dwelling probably meant for snakes. The mechanic's family was clustered around the kitchen table watching a pop-rock broadcast. They greeted us warmly and the grandma demanded to dance with Lopcorn. He was a good sport and indulged her while I explained to our host about the repairs we needed done. She was taken aback.

“Today? During the carnival? I am sorry. No one's gonna put in a water tank for you today.”

“Oh,” I said. It would be bad to get stuck here. There's gonna be a cataclysmic fine if I run out the parking meter. Besides, I'm on a serious mission. “Please do it?”

She sighed. “I'm spending time with my family tonight. If you can get us a party-size tub of coconut ice-cream, then AFTER supper I'll help you out. And I'm charging you double! That work for you?”

It'll have to do. Me and my bodyguard begin a systematic search of the station for ice cream. All the confectioners laugh when we ask for something so fancy. The nearest approximation available seemed to be blanched lakegrass in sucralose, molded into fun shapes like Oval or Circle. Someone offered us frosted seaweed cream that was about 1/8th real dairy for a staggering &49.99R per scoop. Yikes. It took a bit of running around but finally we found a beagle who could help.

“I can make it,” he began. “But it'll cost you. A party-size will take all my leftover coconut powder. I might have the last jar in the city. It's priceless.”

“Oh gosh. How much do you want for it?”

“I want a ticket to the ballet. I know – it's gonna take a miracle. But you're asking for is crazy. This is fair.”

“OK it's a deal,” I decide. “Get cooking, we won't be long.”

So we start another adventure to get a ballet ticket, but they're completely sold out. The long-awaited performance of anaconda ballerina Ssssssusan Sssisisis is tonight's hottest event. A wrinkled human we meet says he'll give us his ticket but he wants a brand new TV (television) for it so he can still see the show. We go to the television store which is (of course) closed. I fax their email and reach the owner who is bedridden with a swing dancing injury. They'll give us any TV we want if we bring them a bottle of ibuprofen.

So we start an ibuprofen adventure which is weird because I thought painkillers were free. The hospital stopped giving them out. We track down a python who's got a stash but he'll only trade some for a skateboard. To get that, we need a barbecue. And for that, a xylophone. And for that, a DVD burner.

Jeez, this day.

Walking briskly, we find the sketchy computer place we were tipped about and step inside. It's dim and stuffy.

“ผบ” rasps somebody. Lopcorn halts at once. His arm comes up defensively in front of me. His demeanor suddenly shifts. I remember for the first time that day that he's killed at least 1,000,006 people. Behind the counter of the little shop is a big badger. The off-white glow of a computer monitor hit his face at an upward angle. The effect was ghoulish. Sundry computer parts and sugary desserts covered every inch of his desk. “Wasn't expecting to see you again.”

“Hey dude,” said Lopcorn. His voice was level and controlled, but his posture screamed alertness and energy.

“You here to kill me?”

“Nope.”

“Ah... Just in case...” The badger poured out a cup of whisky from a dainty crystal decanter. He gulped down about half. There was so much sweetener in it that it was thick as syrup. “Are you selling that lemur? I might know someone.”

“No.”

“Pity. Introduce me then.”

“This is Rolando, who used to work with me.” said the hare.

“Just as a network tech,” Rolando told me. “I sat by the fax machine while Commander Lopcorn went on his rampages.” He turned to Lopcorn. “I laughed when I heard Bookbean died. Good fucking riddance. You see the news tonight? La Soup got killed too. I hope Welker's next.”

“Is that so?” Lopcorn sounded impassive.

“And someone tried to get Felix Rølvag. Botched the job though - only blew up his body double. It's not on the news yet. I'll tell you who did it if you wanna know.” Rolando finished his drink and started munching on churros. “What's this secret mission you're on?”

“Just taking a letter to Clockmarsh,” I tell him. Lopcorn cringed.

Rolando arched an eyebrow. “Right. What are you doing here then?”

“We need a skateboard xylophone,” I said.

“Uh-huh.” Rolando took a piece of custard-stuffed-squash and bit off half of it. “Are you sure you're not here to kill me?”

“No, man.” Lopcorn stepped forward and took the whiskey away as Rolando was about to reach for a refill. “There's been a big leak, I'm guessing? Is the Floom Report out?”

“I've got...” Rolando began, reaching under the counter. He procured a second whiskey bottle. “...more of those." He refilled his cup. "Minister La Soup's cybersecurity system isn't running so well - with him being dead. No, the Floom Report is not out, but everything else is. I made more money yesterday ripping government data than I made in all my years in the army. Ever hear of the Zag-IX Census?”

“Zag-IX was evacuated when they found weird radiation or whatever.”

“I found a list of survivors. I wouldn't have noticed it but it's the second most heavily protected file I've ever seen. You'll see why. Here, have a copy.” Rolando flicked a .ZIP over to both our phones.

My eyes glaze over at this kinda stuff. Lopcorn is scrolling through documents intently. Rolando watches him.

“Could this be fake?” Lopcorn asked.

“I was going to ask you that. Gault never brought this up while you were the commander? Her and Welker are desperate to get a pet mutant from Zag-IX to fight the aliens, people say.” Rolando leaned forward a little. “But I think it's about you. President Gault's popularity is going down the shitter. She's afraid Berg or his friends will overthrow her if they can get you on board; there's no one that can physically stop you. So she wants a monster.”

“She's a dumbass to worry about that.”

Rolando's jaw tensed. “That's true. You'll just follow your orders no matter what they do to you. You're happy to be the lowest pawn.”

“I get less of the bad karma now.”

“How nice for you,” said Rolando wryly. His eyes were full of bitterness. He slumped over then, and heaved a deflating sigh. He glanced down at his snacks, like he was thinking about what to have next. Then he broke the sound barrier, launching himself at Lopcorn with so much force that the whole building shook. He went straight for the throat. But Lopcorn was even faster and caught him in an instant, locking the badger's claws in his grip. Oh gosh, here comes the decapitation, I think. I look away... And I see a party-size tub of coconut ice cream on the end of the counter.

“Oh! May I have that?” I ask.

“Sure, I don't give a shit,” Rolando spat. Lopcorn let go of him and he sat back down. I pick up the ice cream. I can barely lift the thing. “Thanks,” I say, but he's ignoring me.

“You fucking idiot. You should have listened to me on Bolo Gamma,” Rolando chided, his voice choked by fury and helpless regret. “You're shit. Get the hell away from me, or I'll gut your little friend. I'm gonna piss on your fucking grave when this is all over. Get out of my sight.”

“I-”

“Parking meter, parking meter!” I whisper very loudly, nudging Lopcorn out the door, leaving Rolando with his liquor and junk food.

Jeez. Anyway. We hurry back to the garage and surprise the ferret mechanic with the ice cream. True to her word, she installs a beautiful new water tank for me. Her family insists we sit with them for dessert and watch the live broadcast of the snake ballet. That dancing anaconda put on a really beautiful show. I never saw anyone dance like that before, it was entrancing. My guard was looking at his hands the whole time, I don't think he saw even five seconds of it.

[quinn-tessence]

Nocturne for a Clown

Part 1

In this frightening, destabilizing global pandemic, we all seek comfort. I found mine in Arthur, and I know many of you did too. This community has given me so much, I cannot express my gratitude enough. So here's something I can give back. A Nocturne for our beloved Clown, who still inspires us to this day, and will probably never stop. 🤡🖤

Summary: you stumble into an intriguing neighbor, a tragic, beautiful party clown named Carnival with jade eyes and cocoa hair. His meekness around you gets under your skin enough to lead you unconsciously into his path by accident.

Length: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of mental illness, alcohol use, nudity, playful flirting and light fluff. Pre smut intro, this is going places… 🤭🤡❤

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

You should have taken more bags, you could barely hold all these groceries as you opened the door to let yourself inside your block of flats. You greeted granny Mabel picking up her mail but swiftly turned your attention to the closing door of the elevator.

‘Wait, hold the lift, please!’

In your haste to catch the ride, a foot was lodged on the door, sliding it back open to let you in. Careful not to spill all the veggies on the floor, your attention fell onto the man sharing the ride with you only as he asked what floor you were going to.

‘5th please, thank you for holding the door'

‘Sure'

The lift shook in its slow ascent, your heart would have skipped a beat had it not been a part of your daily routine to feel that bump in your bones. His hair is really nice, the length and the curls around the edges. Hm. You couldn't help looking at him, he was all of your visual field after all, so you scrutinized, as you’d often do. He’d politely turned sideways, avoiding to keep his back to you, but you couldn't see his face clearly in the dim yellow light. He wasn't much taller than you, his complexion quite slim and fragile looking, his back slouched as if carrying the heaviest weight on his shoulders. Gotham made that easy, grey and gloomy by day even during good weather, a pile of construction and buildings with no defined identity, enough to fit all from the scourge to the wealthy.

‘This building's awful, isn't it?’ an uncharacteristic curiosity made you try out some small talk in the hopes you'd get a better glimpse.

You knew too few people in this building, and you were far from chatty in elevators with strangers. Usually. He looked so old fashioned wearing that shirt and the linen vest, but the ochre of his jacket heightened the cocoa brown of his hair, yellow light reflecting off the edges delicately. He was cute, in an oddly endearing sort of way. A pair of basil green eyes turned to your as he bit the bait, the sly grin cutting through his cheek a stark contradiction to everything else about him, the scar on his upper lip a peculiarity that only furthered your intrigue. There was a deep well of sadness in his eyes, overbearing, bone chilling. It prickled your skin as you noticed it, but the gaze under his eyelids was piercing. That unnerving feeling the striking contrast brought, you couldn't shake it off.

The joy ride on strings stopped just as your cheeks started to fluster. You bid him good night as you walked out, your awareness over your morning overuse of perfume now as acute as ever.

‘Hey!’ he shouted in a shy, husky voice as you stepped out.

You turned to him one last time to see him mimicking a gun shot to the head as a rather late comical attempt to reply to your earlier remark. Unconventional, yes, but not a sort of humor you didn't enjoy. The fact that you just couldn't make him out drew a puzzled smile on your face as the elevator door closed.

Hm. What was that? you wandered as you had one foot in stirring curiosity, the other guiding you to your door as if by reflex. You'd lived here for months already, yet you hadn't seen him before. He was quite handsome in an outlandish sort of way, you would not have let that go unnoticed had you seen him before.

Months had passed, yet you still had storing boxes around your living room. Your stay should have just been temporary, yet you'd started decorating it with your own sketches and it had suddenly become your home, your sanctuary, your oasis to recharge you after long days at the office close by. You'd stumbled into this place by accident while looking for a cozy place to stay, but you found no reason to leave it behind. Your own art gallery, with bright lights flooding the windows throughout the day that allowed you to paint during weekends without your eyes squinting, your safe space.

Not today though, your feet were sore and your arms hurt from carrying those groceries. All you wanted was a glass of white wine and an excessive bag of popcorn while you watched the Murray show, but you picked up Dostoyevsky to delve again into the question of the perfect murder while you waited. This book you could never grow tired of, and it rattled you to devour chapter after chapter, accompanying a tormented soul on a journey of falling into madness, its universe a silent revolt and escape from the reality of Gotham you'd craved deep down without ever voicing.

‘We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, that begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.' Hm. Go figure.

The deafening silence in the room would soon be filled by your own comments at the starting show, Murray’s humor making you roll your eyes at his lack of self awareness, quite versed he was in ridiculing one person or another. A comedy show, yes, but sometimes he would take it a bit too far even for your inappropriate taste in humor.

A few hours and half a bottle of wine later, the sweet taste of the wine still lingered on your lips, flooding your murky mind to a familiar place of solitary self indulgence. Not long after shutting your eyes, a recent memory took shape at the back of your eyelids, and you felt an irrational urge to trace a sketch of him. You were too tired to start drawing at this hour. Your fingers would be of much better use tracing those lines you were curious to feel off his own fingertips. You hadn't indulged yourself in a while, but the thought of this bewitching man flashing in the most vulgar parts of your mind soon changed that. Maybe you were blatantly objectifying your neighbor… but only a little… You'd been so busy with the new job, the long hours exhausting, the absence of a soul to keep you company a nuisance you'd learned to bury in piles of work. But the urges only amplified the more you'd stifle and ignore them, demanding to be satiated. So you gave into yourself, into him, into the sweet, intoxicating effect of your favorite wine, into the memory of the piercing green eyes that had you whimper in silence.

Something about him was out of place. You’d seen him from afar and he looked defenseless. But as you came closer, you could feel yourself swallow hard as you waited for his gaze to look to your direction. Odd, wasn't it? He hadn't said much, but the tension in the elevator had penetrated your bones to late night reminiscence. Something was not right about him, an 'I should be afraid, instead it turns me on' vibe to him had taken you right to the edge.

The next day you bumped into him after work at the corner store, he was buying cigarettes and a chocolate bar. With that level of nutrition, no wonder he was so feeble, yet there was something about him that had kept you up at night. You'd already developed a weakness for him, but that stifled your reaction instead of filling you with courage. He smiled shyly and walked out the door, his eyes counting his slouched steps. Shit. Next time.

One particular evening you noticed two blue diamonds peering meticulously through the store shelves, the greasepaint on the man's face rendering him almost unrecognizable lest for his unmistakable skinny complexion and beautiful cocoa hair. Your freight of clowns had shaped your life since childhood, yet that terror had somehow melted instantly at the sight of his jade eyes underneath the white blue makeup. He'd shied away as you noticed him, stealing a smile that got your feet walking into an opposite reaction, trying to hide your pleasant surprise at his creepy, endearing stares. You wondered if that was his job, it would be absurd to just walk around in a clown costume, stalking women. Not to mention, horrifying and nightmare inducing, as even you would have felt until a moment ago if it hadn't been him wearing the clown costume.

Fumbling around the store, shying behind the counters as you paid for your groceries, you couldn't resist glancing at him one more time. You'd missed your chance before and you regretted it. All it took was to reach for one item from the isle he was hiding in, even if you had no use for it. Startling him was the last of your intentions, so you mimicked his behavior peering at him through the shelves, perhaps that would open him up to you. As you both walked in the same direction towards the corridor, he stopped shy in his tracks, eyes now as big as the clown shoes on his feet, scanning the floors, anxiously facing the inevitable.

‘Hi there. I've seen you around, haven't I?'

You'd planned on being more casual in your approach, yet the tone of your voice evoked a warm intimacy built over nights of having him wander purposefully in the depths of your fantasies. The clown costume should have helped alienate that feeling, instead it only burned deeper. The youthful innocence draped across his face contrasted strikingly with the furrows in his forehead betraying his age. He couldn't be younger than 35 at least, yet the spark of his almond shaped eyes took 15 years off his complexion. He cleared his throat before being able to speak.

‘Hi! Yes, we met in the elevator last week. I didn't think you'd recognize me in my work outfit.’

‘I thought that was you. You could frighten ladies if you keep peering at them while wearing a clown costume, you know? Not a lot of good press on them in the past years’

A nervous chuckle escaped his throat, he couldn't have missed that connection himself but he seemed caught red handed.

‘Well I haven't even pulled my gun yet. I was waiting for the store to clear out a bit before I robbed the place and kidnapped you'

There was that dark humor, but damn him for making you smile like a teenager.

‘A clown with a gun and a plan, not at all frightening. You're funny! Pass me that pasta sauce, would you?’

He quickly reached for the item on his counter and reached over it to hand it to you. The gawkiness in his hasty moves was proof enough he wasn't used to being approached by women, you were sure his cheeks were as flaming red under the white makeup as the flower pinned to his colorful checkered blazer. You shook your head and pointed at the end of the counter, your feet moving in the direction where you wanted him. He followed shyly, dragging his oversized clown shoes.

As he handed you the item, you thanked him kindly and immediately put it back up on the shelf. His gaze fell to his feet again, surely flustered by the subtext of your action. Yet within a split of a second, his eyes pierced back at yours and you'd forgotten all words.

‘Why don't I walk you home instead? I'll keep the gun and kidnapping for another occasion. Let me help you with those' he reached for your groceries, his proximity to you feeding the fire. You gladly agreed and walked the couple blocks with him, curious of his day job and adoring the purr of his soothing voice, it tore you up every time you heard it falter. His suit and makeup should have kept you a mile away, yet he seemed to be the most welcome companion to comfort you through your biggest irrational fear. As you reached the apartment complex sooner than you'd wished, he stopped and let out a complicit chuckle.

‘I… seem to have forgotten to do my own groceries, I’ll have to go back now, somehow I got distracted…’

‘And I thought you were there just to kidnap me.’ You just couldn't help continuing his apropos, hoping deep down he'd actually do it. ‘Thank you for walking me home, that was sweet of you'

‘You're very welcome. I'm Arthur, by the way, or Carnival if you prefer the party clown'

‘Nice to meet you, Arthur. I'm Y/N.’

‘Y/N…’ the sound of your name off his lips jolted you shamelessly to the point where you needed to take that step back, and yet you didn't. ‘I'll see you around?’

The smile on his painted face a ray of sunshine in an otherwise wretched day. Carnival, you cheekily thought to yourself, never had you wanted to experience one as badly as you did seeing him light up a cigarette and inhale it wantonly almost halfway through, walking back a few steps, then turning and making his way back to the store.

Days at work had flown by rapidly in your constant distraction with a lingering image of a colorful clown. Not even the new guy everyone was talking about could catch your attention, even if your girlfriends kept mentioning a stunning pair of black eyes and a charming swagger. Had he been a smoker, you'd perhaps get a glimpse of him during your breaks, at least. The Fridays hardly ever felt like the weekend, and this one made you want to smash some bones, your own sorrows bubbling up inside you, like a mint candy in a bottle of Cola. You were more of an indoors cat, but your really couldn't pass on a 3rd invitation for a night out, your buddies would think you were willfully ditching them. Fine I'll go! Just one drink though.

Mixing gin and tequila hadn't been up there among your smartest choices. You should have stopped after the 3rd shot, but you hadn't had so much fun in months. Hah! I feel dizzy. But this feels good, your thoughts pieces of a puzzle you were too drunk to make out. As your feet moved out of the taxi and into the cold early morning air, you were finally back home. You must have remembered to pay the fare otherwise the cabby would have chased you down. You drifted in your scrambled thoughts as your feet walked out of reflex, your mind miles away, preoccupied with a certain pair of turquoise eyes. Perhaps you had a propensity for dark hues, but those had always just been mere dust in front of green shades. I’m not in my own mind anymore… I’m in someone else's... And I’m touching myself, I’m licking my lips, the tip of my tongue grazes over the scar on my upper lip, the heat of my breath comes from within a boiling body, my skin sizzles. I hum and I moan and I... hah, fuck, I think I just broke my heel, I’m so fekkin drunk. You dragged yourself to the elevator, your mind desperately hoping you were managing to keep yourself composed so the sweet old doorman wouldn't judge you as a drunken failure in life.

Why did you do this to yourself? And can you just not redirect all your remaining fluids to where they're not required before you're at least in your bed? Fuck, I can't... you'd been pushing the elevator button for a minute before you growled a tad too loud at the drunken realization you’d have to climb all 5 storeys in this wretched state you'd put yourself into.

Fine, just get your sorry ass up before you make a fool of yourself clowning around. Just one more and you're there. Fumbling for your keys in your bag, you leaned on the door and, to your surprise and annoyance, it opened. What the fuck, was I drunk before I left my apartment? How could I have forgotten to lock the damn door?

You felt sick to your stomach, you couldn't walk to the bed. You hadn't drunk so much for over a year, you’d forgotten how useless you were in this state. The couch would do for tonight. You almost dropped yourself to the floor, the couch not in the same position as you'd left it, but who cared. I'm never drinking again, you thought as you coiled around the pillow, a shoe dropping on the floor while the other hung half way. It smelled of cigarettes, most probably from your clothes.

A familiar enticing aftertaste of alcohol clawed its way out once again, you should have known this was coming. You wished he'd be there so you could release yourself to him, as frail as he was he'd surely handle you gently, and mmm wouldn't that feel sweet. The alcohol had just been a low end substitute to bury your frustrations and aches. Hah, even if he was here, you'd be useless. But that didn't stop you from dozing off to the thought of his gentle fingers strolling down your neck to your breasts, drawing circles on your waist before goin... down lo...

There was too much light in the room, as drunk as you’d been you’d forgotten to draw the curtains. You couldn't open your eyes, the headache was throbbing, so you rubbed your temples and turned your led limbs from the aching position you'd landed on as the most shameful drunk in this city.

Your mind thought you could take opening your eyes, and as you did you felt the alcohol pressuring your Adam's apple, a deep breath a flimsy stronghold to keep everything down. A deep breath that turned swiftly to a high pitched shriek at the sight of this man walking towards you dripping water off his naked body, a towel being rubbed onto his hair with both hands. You shrieked as you fell to the floor, hitting yourself against an unfamiliar coffee table, flagons of pills spilling all over it.

Oh shit, you heard him say as he hid behind the wall, peering at you but quieting his anxiety the more he looked.

'What are you... Y/N, you're in the wrong apartment! Shit, I need to put something on'

Oh god what had you done?? A sous chef could have mistaken you for a lobster and thrown you in a bucket of boiling water, you’d surely been simmering in that since the realization of how much of an idiot you were at walking into his apartment, of all damn places.

‘Oh my god, I am SO SORRY, I had a few too many drinks with my friends and I must have... I surely have climbed too many storeys to my place. I'll be out of your hair, I am so sorry!!!’ He'd been hopping throughout your dreams for the past weeks, you'd seen him naked so many times before, but not once in the flesh. You were flustered at the brazen realization of how far off you'd been as you fantasized about him bare before you. It was nerve wrecking, you wished you could just disintegrate into a million atoms and let the ground swallow you whole.

He chuckled as he returned in a half clothed state, clearly having shortened the process just to catch you before you shut the door behind you.

‘Yeah, the elevator was out of order yesterday. Hey, it's ok. You just really scared me, I wasn't expecting to find you on my couch, you know? You're... welcome to... stay a bit longer if you want. You look like you've had a rough night, I could whip out some breakfast and get you back on your feet. If you wish…’

He'd whipped out more than you'd thought he would a couple minutes ago, thank you very much for the extra sleepless nights.

‘Oh my god, no, I couldn't take advantage of you like that, I just slept on your couch uninvited, I am so horrible. Please excuse me, and thank you for not calling the cops on me.’

He'd smiled at you in the elevator before your heels had started flaming for him a few weeks back, but this was different. His whole face had lit up, his eyes sparkling as if emerald and jade had caught a reflection of the sun, his crooked tooth a tantalizing new discovery, especially as the scar on his lip etched itself deeper into your psyche. You were in his house, after all, where else would he feel most comfortable if not in his private, intimate home, one that you'd shamefully invaded and found him completely naked and wet.

‘They're on their way actually, I’m just stalling before they show up to escort you from my property.’

You chuckled as you held your temple, you must have been a disgusting mess, your makeup all smudged, on your face a decrepit layer of last nights overindulgence, and yet he made you laugh.

‘You're funny, Arthur... I'll take care of that myself, tell them it was a false alarm...’

As you opened the door to remove yourself from this torrent of shame, his voice stopped you in the doorstep.

‘Hey, you wanna… grab a coffee later tonight? It might help with that hangover’

‘You really want to go out after all this?’

‘Yeah!’ his eyebrow twitched in reflex, startling you at its sudden air of impertinence. You couldn't tell if your limbs had mellowed from alcohol, or his facial expressivity had been the melting catalyst. ‘Pajama night, I'll take you to the best Donut diner in town. 9 PM?’

You really wished you could process everything clearly, but he wasn't making it easier at all. ‘Alright then, pajama night it is!’

‘Great! Are you sure I can't help you to your place?’

‘Sorry to ask, what floor is this?’

‘6th.’

‘Oh, I’m right downstairs, maybe going down a flight of stairs will shake off this horrid hangover. Thanks again for... hosting me I guess, nice to see you again, Arthur. I'll see you later!’

You waved at him more in a futile attempt to cover your face as you stepped back out of that bubble of shame, feeling soaked to the bone. The droplets on his skin, he'd just gotten out of the shower, that routine gesture to slick back his hair, that wide morning gaze were mere special mentions as you went down the stairs, one other morning factor keeping your mind fully flustered as you unlocked your own front door this time.

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

Thank you for reading this far! 🤡🖤

A special thank you to a few wonderful people who inspire me daily ❤❤❤

@littlebird92 @life-or-something-like-lt @ralugraphics @jokers-puddin-pop @arthurfleckownsmysoul @bustafatclownnut @jokers-doll @rommies @bananabreaddough @paperorigami @ransomguest49 @daydreamhustler @arthurjokersgirl @lesbianearrings @arthurflecc @iartsometimes @arthurflecksgirl @forever-fleck @sweet-nothings04 @wuika @mollyxlyla-rosex @impulsiveclown @jokerlicious @jokergirl10491 @jokeconic @ajokeformur-ray @shaw-2000 @softyash @arthurflecc

[thornfield13713]

Widomauk role reversal

Okay. Just some warnings ahead of time - I’m reversing their memory situation, but basically nothing else here. Also, I am only on episode 28, and though I keep hearing some spoilers about the latest episodes, I am trying my best to avoid them. So, you know, this may not be entirely compliant with current canon. I’m trying to keep it vague enough that that isn’t an issue, but just be aware.

Caleb loses his memories in the asylum. The woman who, in canon, restored his mind and memories, here took his memory away entirely.  The effect on her was about the same, but for Caleb it’s a lot more complicated. It takes a while for him to regain enough of a sense of himself to escape. The anti-tracking amulet is a chance find, more than anything - he was obliged to incapacitate a guard to get out, and when the guard promised him that the asylum’s backers would drag him back no matter how far he ran, taking something to avoid being tracked seemed like a sensible precaution. He doesn’t have a clue how to survive outside the asylum, and stumbles through the adjustment as best he can. I suspect he and Nott join up a lot sooner here, though since I have yet to get enough Nott backstory to know exactly how old she is or when she left her clan, I’m going to leave that part of the story vague for now. He remembers how to do magic, more or less, though he’s not at the level he was at before his ‘final exam’, and is still driven to learn more. He’s also at once desperately curious about his previous life, and terrified that looking will end with his being dragged back to the asylum for whatever reasons he was in there in the first place.

Molly hasn’t heard the name ‘Lucien’ since he crawled out of his grave, and honestly, he’d rather keep it that way. Whatever he and the Tomb Takers were doing, here he remembers it, and the ritual, whatever it was, broke him. He wants to bury himself in the carnival, in a life of travel and performance and making people happy while he can, leaving every little town they pass through better than he left it. He wants, as far as possible, to put that life behind him and keep the Tomb Takers out of this as far as he possibly can - he still cares for them, sure, but they didn’t see what he did, and he doesn’t know that he can convince them, changed as he is, that they poked something they never should have touched. He hasn’t picked up his swords except in his own defence since that day, or touched his powers, and in two years he grows rusty enough to be on the same level as the rest of the Nein. He and Yasha probably still end up bonding, but I’m not sure how close they’re going to be in this timeline, and will need to get to Yasha backstory (hopefully soon) before I can say that for sure.

One of the consequences of this change for Caleb is that, while he’s still trying to hide, he’s not nearly as fanatical about it, nor is he quite convinced he is the single worst person in the world. He’s pretty sure his past holds something bad, because...well, he can’t think of any other way he’d have ended up where he did...but he’s not sure if he was the victim or the perpetrator. There is a certain formless guilt and dread around his past, which complicates his desire to know, but it’s not so all-consuming as to make him want to punish himself as much as he does in canon - what I’ve seen of the art from later on suggests that Caleb actually prefers being clean and tidy when he isn’t desperately trying to disappear, and here he has the added excuse that people are, he suspects, looking for a filthy and half-starved asylum escapee, not a well-turned-out wizard who no longer has crippling guilt in the way of actually making use of that high charisma score.

Molly, this time, is the one with the weight of history on him. It’s a different kind - hubris, having seen and touched things not meant for mortal eyes and wrecked himself on the shore of a plane far beyond the material - but it’s still there. He’s developed a decided cynicism about great causes and ‘the greater good’ in general - his own pursuit of whatever higher goal it was that animated him certainly led him nowhere good - and honestly probably wouldn’t have left the circus if there had still been a circus to be part of. Small things are easier. You cannot destroy yourself with small things. And it doesn’t help that he’s got a lot of trauma wrapped up in his abilities and the ‘eye’ markings, leading to him getting about as many tattoos as in canon just trying to make them disappear, so nobody can look at him and tell what he was at a glance. He’s also the one with an aversion to going to Rexxentrum this time, since the ‘wizard from the capital’ is still out there, and as he is now, he isn’t quite sure he can deal with that, whether or not she botched the ritual on purpose.

The Cree encounter goes so much worse here than it does in canon. Molly was trying to put her off the scent and honestly didn’t much care about her beyond that. Lucien knows her. And whatever he was like as a person, she seemed to care about him deeply enough that if there is anything of Molly in Lucien, he at least wouldn’t want her wasting her life waiting around for him. He’s still a decent enough bullshitter, though Molly’s charisma score isn’t anything to write home about, so I’m going to guess he isn’t a patch on what he was if he was charismatic enough to start a cult before all this. But he’s too invested, he gives himself away, and his attempt to cut ties with his past probably just ends up putting a target on his back for other old connections to find him.

[chroniclesinlacuna]

In Need of a Vase (read on ao3)

Pairing: m!detective (Dex DiBella) x Nate Warnings: minor book 3 spoilers Words: ~2.2k Rating: G Summary: This is just fluff. And flower giving.

Dex knew he should probably be sleeping. His one day off for the next week was tomorrow, and if he was going to get any type of sleep in the next long while, it would be tonight. And it was a true day off too - not expected at the station, even if he was technically on call like always, and with no movement on the current case, no reason to stop by the warehouse either.

But, instead of taking advantage of the looming freedom, he was instead, here, sitting at the bar to his kitchen, eyeing the bottle of jack that he’d gotten as a promotion gift from the volunteers, and debating the merits of a day off with a hangover.

It wasn’t a pleasant idea, by any means. And he knew he’d regret it about halfway through the second drink, let alone the next morning.

But there was still something rather...alluring, about the idea of wasting the night away and just. Not caring. About the blood drive, and the hell he was going to catch from the mayor. About the case that was currently moving absolutely nowhere, and how helpless he was feeling in the face of that stagnation. About Rebecca. About the last several months of everything.

Just for a little while, caring about nothing.

And...that thought is what got him off the stool to go put the bottle away, back in the cupboard he’d put it in when he’d first gotten the damn thing.

This week may have sucked on so many levels, but the last thing he needed was any thought like that. He should just throw the damn thing out, but he just couldn’t quite push past the guilt at the idea. It’d been a gift, and the volunteers had meant well.

The light knock at the door nearly has him dropping the damn thing.

He sneaks a quick look at his phone sitting on the bar. No notifications, so no one had called or texted. No emergency then. ...Maybe if he’s real quiet, whoever it was would just go away.

“Dex?” The voice is soft, muffled further through the door, but Dex can just about feel his shoulders sagging in relief. Setting the bottle on the counter, he slips over to open the door. Sure enough, there’s Nate, haloed in the cheap fluorescent light of the hallway and looking way too nice despite the sallow light.

He knows he himself doesn’t look nearly as put together - but he doesn’t know which is worse; the fact that he knows it looks like he hasn’t slept in two days, or the clothes that practically scream he hasn’t left the apartment all day.

Can’t find it really in him to much care though, with Nate smiling like that at him - all soft and delighted. Dex crosses his arms over his chest, to keep them to himself until he figures out just what the vampire is doing around these parts around this time of night, leaning against the door frame. “And what’re you doing here?” he asks in a lazy drawl that doesn’t fool Nate for a second, if the way his smile ticks up crooked is anything to go by.

“Mm...I cannot just stop by?” Nate asks, tone light, almost teasing.

Dex raises an eyebrow, finally actually taking the man in. Completely relaxed, looking like he just walked off some runway somewhere, like normal...and his hands behind his back.

“Of course you can,” Dex mutters, only half-paying attention to what he’s saying, now curiously trying to peek around Nate’s shoulder. He sees Nate blink before his smile goes soft again out of the corner of his eyes as he leans away. Nate may only have an inch on him in height, but he knew how to use it well to his advantage.

“...You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” Dex finally says, leaning back against the doorframe in defeat. He can’t quite keep the smile off his face though, so he knows it’s not very convincing.

“Of course not.” And with a flourish that Dex isn’t entirely convinced is due to vampiric grace, rather than Nate just being Nate, he’s suddenly blinking at a flower.

Not just any flower. One perfect, simple, white rose.

“...For me?” He asks, not entirely sure what his voice is doing - it sounds soft and unsure even to his own ears. He’s not entirely sure what his face is doing either, but when he finally looks up to meet Nate’s eyes, he realizes it’s probably not great, since Nate now looks worried - only just, in the tight curve to his shoulder, and the shuttered look to his smile that wasn’t there only a breath earlier. And Dex can’t have that.

Careful of the flower, he reaches out to grip Nate’s jacket, pulling him in to press a soft kiss to his lips, relaxing when he feels Nate’s smile press into his again.

Breaking apart a moment later, he keeps a grip on the jacket to keep him close, turning back to the flower, taking it carefully with his free hand.

Nate’s voice is soft, falling lazily into the space between them, “You mentioned the gardens you loved and while I cannot give those to you, I hoped this might suffice for now.”

Dex twirls the rose gently between his fingers, marvelling silently both at it, and the man who still hasn’t tried to break out of his hold.

No one looked at Dex and thought to buy him flowers. Sure, he’d bought flowers plenty of times for others. But...well. It just hadn’t happened the other way around, and the swell of emotion Dex was feeling right now was as terrifying as it was comforting.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” Dex murmurs after a long moment, twisting enough to press a kiss to the corner of Nate’s lips, grinning widely when he twists to try to catch him completely. But, he was not going to let this devolve in the hallway. He liked to think that, while he may not be the classiest guy (by a longshot), he had some standards.

He steps back, intending to pull Nate into the apartment with him, only to pause, frowning and glancing back at the kitchen for a moment, wracking his brain.

“...Dex?” Nate asks after the silence drags on a little too long.

“...I don’t have a vase for this.” Or even a glass tall enough. Wait, what time was it? A quick glance at the clock and then he’s slipping around Nate still standing in the doorway. “Wait here.”

He knocks lightly on the door catty-corner to his own apartment - loud enough to get attention if she’s awake, but not loud enough to wake her if she’s not. The woman had a worse sleep schedule than he did, but he wouldn’t begrudge her what sleep she could get.

She opened the door a mere moment later, raising a thin eyebrow at him over gold-rimmed reading glasses.

“Declan? What is it dear?”

“Hi Mrs. Carsen. I have kind of a weird favor to ask…” That eyebrow just keeps getting higher. If Dex hadn’t lived next to the tiny old woman for the last five years, he’d think he was being judged, severely. And, he was, in a way. But the woman was all heart once you got past the looks that could cut a man. Instead of explaining, he holds up the flower. “I have nowhere to put this...if I could borrow a vase for a bit…?” he asks, not even bothering to try to stop her when she leans out enough to take a look down the hallway.

Nate, bless him, just smiles charmingly and waves.

The next thing he knows, he’s being smacked on the arm with a surprisingly strong hand. “‘Bout damn time.” she grumbles before disappearing back into her apartment. There’s a strangled sound from down the hall that Dex is pretty sure is a laugh, but he just rubs his arm and rolls his eyes.

She’s back a moment later with a thin, delicate looking vase. “I already like this one.” She offers with a small smile, voice dropping to try to keep it between them. Dex will give Nate this - he does pretty well at pretending not to hear.

“Yeah, I do too.” Dex replies with a soft smile - unable to help remembering a very similar conversation he had with Elidor, a couple months ago now.

“Introduce us next time, will you?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Carsen. And thank you. Good night.”

He hears a return ‘good night’, before the door’s closing behind him.

“So. I don’t know how much of the rumor mill you heard after the carnival but it’s about to get ten times worse. She heads the largest gossip network in town.” He offers nonchalantly as he slips back around Nate, reaching out to grab him by the jacket again to pull him inside. Nate just laughs and goes with it easily, pushing the door closed behind him when Dex lets go.

“I did not hear most of it, no, but Felix did, so I’m sure to hear it all second-hand again.” And, for a wonder, he sounds rather pleased about that.

Biting down that swell of emotion currently pushing aside his heart again, Dex sets about getting the flower and vase set up. There’s a perfect place on the table by the window for it - a bright splash against the dark blue of the curtains.

He takes a long moment to just enjoy the look of it there, smiling to himself - stupidly, he knows, but...well, Nate’s the only one there to see.

He feels an arm slip around his waist as he’s pulled back against a strong chest a moment later - he’d only just heard the swish of fabric behind him a moment before. He doesn’t even pretend he doesn’t melt immediately into the grip. “You know, you’re lucky I like you.” He grumbles, even as feels more than hears the warm laugh at that.

“Oh, I am aware,” and there’s something aching there that Dex immediately wants to wipe away, but, after debating for a moment, he decides against it. Things are still so new - they have plenty of time for deep waters. Instead, he turns in Nate’s grip, arms coming up to wrap loosely around his shoulders in return. “Take it you’re staying then?” He asks instead, letting a hopeful thread twist into his voice, clear as day.

“If you will have me.” And there’s that ache again - thin and thready, and it hurts to hear it, even if he’s pretty sure he’ll hear it for a while yet.

“Mm...can’t promise anything exciting,” much as he wants to, it’s just now hitting him how tired he is, standing here, wrapped up in and around Nate like this, warm and comfortable in his own home - and there’s that warm laugh again he’s already falling a little in love with, one he feels more where they’re pressed up close together than he hears - “you’re welcome here however long you’d like.” he finishes, humming softly when Nate ducks into ghost a kiss along his jaw.

In a move he doesn’t quite follow - and not entirely because he’s tired either; sometimes he just...forgets exactly how strong Nate and the others are - he finds himself on top of Nate on the couch that had been behind them.

He blinks a couple times, both down at Nate, and back at where they’d been standing before just laughing, shaking his head at Nate’s not-quite sheepish grin.

“This is only going to be comfortable for like...an hour. At most.” Dex warns, even as he settles in close, enjoying the warmth of the other man spread out under him. His own legs are butting up uncomfortably against the arm of the couch, so he can only imagine how Nate’s are doing. The couch was an old, comfy thing, but it was not designed for two six foot plus men to lay out on it. It wasn’t even designed for one, as his back liked to remind him every time he fell asleep on the damn thing.

“Mm...we’ll move in a bit.” Nate offers, fingers curling in Dex’s shirt at his back.

Dex knows for a fact he’s going to wake up in the exact same spot, but can’t find it in him to argue - way too comfortable, and enjoying the closeness way too much. If Nate wants to deal with the couch like this, that’s his choice. So, instead of arguing, he leans up enough to steal another sweet kiss - little more than a too-short slide of warm skin and breath before settling down with his cheek on Nate’s chest.

The last thing he sees before he loses the thread for the night is that rose - bright and sweet looking against the heavy navy curtains. He’s pretty sure he falls asleep with a smile and plans to buy both a vase, and a bigger couch, very soon.

[lycanbucky]

Drabble Prompts:

Prompts obtained from this generator.

Send me your favorite prompt from the list below, and I’ll write a drabble for it! Feel free to change the names of the characters, too!

Frank holding a sobbing Bucky. Bucky cries themselves to sleep with their face buried into Frank.

Frank and Bucky were separated for several years for reasons they couldn't help. They finally find each other and have a heartfelt reunion.

Frank and Bucky struggling to find each other in a crowded place. Fortunately, Frank knows just the thing.

Frank screaming over a picture of Bucky from long before they met. Frank describes the younger Bucky as a tiny precious child, then looks at Bucky, and says 'Well, you're still a tiny precious child'.

Bucky is the barista at a coffee shop and always screws up Frank's name on purpose.

Bucky and Frank as the main characters in the last show you watched/book you read/game you played.

Bucky and Frank playing games in the small arcade.

Frank giving Bucky a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

Bucky and Frank spending Christmas Eve on a party with their friends, and sharing a kiss under the mistletoe in front of everyone. 

Bucky getting to go back in time and change something bad that happened in their past with Frank. (or vice-versa)

Bucky and Frank walking through town, holding hands while it snows.

Frank and Bucky texting. Or better yet, writing letters to each other. 

Frank holding Bucky's hands when they are shaking.

Frank buying Bucky something unrequested because it made Frank think of them.

Frank gets into a heated argument with someone. Frank begins threatening them, so Bucky, picks up Frank and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

Bucky hogs all the blankets and Frank gets cold so they cling tightly to Bucky for warmth.

Frank captioning everything Bucky does with 'That's hot/cute'.

Frank having to help Bucky undress after an injury.

Frank tucking Bucky's hair behind their ear to help them get it out of their face.

Frank making Bucky their favorite meal when they are having a hard day.

Bucky and Frank spending the night on the perfect hill for stargazing.

Frank reading in bed while Bucky rests their head on Frank's shoulder, sleeping.

Frank and Bucky getting sick at the same time.

Frank helping Bucky dry and brush their hair after a shower.

Bucky: Is it hot in here or is it just me? Frank: It's you. Bucky: What? Frank: What?

Bucky having to comfort Frank because Frank just encountered a very unpleasant situation that scared them.

Frank kissing away Bucky's tears.

Frank lends their sweater to Bucky. When Bucky is home, they realize they still have Frank's sweater and find Frank's iPod. Out of curiosity, Bucky looks through Frank's music and finds a playlist titled with Bucky's name. (or vice-versa)

Bucky and Frank sleeping on top of each other (in the bed, couch, where ever you prefer) when Frank flops down on the floor.

Frank and Bucky are about to kiss when instead they accidentally hit foreheads really hard and have matching bruises.

Frank following Bucky's family traditions that they enjoy.

Frank telling Bucky a story but Bucky isn't paying attention at all because they’re too busy thinking about what a cutie Frank is.

Frank hurt their ankle and is laid up with a cast and crutches. Bucky is sitting next to them, doodling little hearts on their cast to cheer them up.

Frank falls asleep in Bucky's lap and Bucky has a conversation with someone else while stroking Frank's hair as if they were a sleeping cat.

They are on a ferris wheel, and everything is going great - until it gets stuck at the very top. For thirty whole minutes.

Bucky and Frank adopting an orphan.

Frank buying Bucky a special treat when they go out shopping.

Bucky giving Frank a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Bucky and Frank watching a horror movie. Bucky can't sleep that night and Frank comforts them in a cuddle.

Frank and Bucky getting locked in a store.

Bucky and Frank going to explore an abandoned house on the edge of town.

Frank wants to use their laptop on the couch, but Bucky always occupies the space in their lap.

Bucky and Frank unable to sleep after watching a horror movie, but neither will admit that the movie scared them.

Bucky and Frank cooking something without the recipe, because Frank is confident they know how to cook it from memory.

Frank wearing clothes in Bucky's favorite color.

Frank and Bucky getting lost in IKEA.

Bucky princess carrying Frank.

Frank and Bucky sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

Bucky and Frank living together for the first time.

Bucky giving Frank a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

Bucky trying to get something on their computer to work. While they’re getting frustrated and flipping out, Frank is sitting nearby cracking up.

Bucky's mom gives Bucky and Frank very cheesy, matching shirts/sweaters/scarfs. Frank does their very best to pretend that they love it.

Bucky buys a box of sweets and puts them in the cupboard. Frank spontaneously eats them all in the middle of the night and tries to keep it a secret.

Frank likes stealing Bucky's phone to change Bucky's phone wallpaper into something stupid (like unattractive pictures of Bucky's face or doing something like picking their nose). Frank is doing another routine swipe of Bucky's phone, but doesn't have the heart to change it because this time because Bucky's phone wallpaper is a cute picture of the two of them (like their first date together, or the only picture they have together).

Bucky and Frank trying to hide their relationship. However, it turns out everyone knows they're dating.

Bucky letting Frank warm their cold hands under their shirt.

Bucky and Frank's child coming to sleep with them after having a bad dream.

Frank and Bucky backpacking across the world.

Bucky: “Ah, shit.” Frank: “Watch your fucking language.”

Bucky and Frank sleeping together. Bucky wakes up first and contemplates waking Frank with a kiss. Bucky leans in only to hesitate centimeters away out of embarrassment. Frank opens their eyes and says, 'Well if you won't do it, I will.'

Frank getting shy about being naked in front of Bucky for the first time.

Bucky doing a chore they know Frank isn't fond of.

Frank breaking into Bucky's room through their window.

Frank won't let Bucky get out of bed by cuddling them.

Bucky and Frank burning something together.

Frank tucking the sheets around Bucky when they stir during the night.

Bucky goes over to Frank's home after staying up all night. Even though they do their best to stay awake, they end up falling asleep while cuddling Frank. Bucky is quite embarrassed (and half-asleep) when they wake up, but Frank doesn't mind.

Frank and Bucky in a large field with a fresh foot of snow.

Bucky using Frank's lap as a pillow.

Frank running out in the middle of the night to get a food item that Bucky is craving.

Bucky and Frank discovering a hidden treasure.

Bucky is scared of the thunder and Frank tries to calm them down during an particularly heavy storm.

Bucky and Frank at a theme park or carnival, and walking towards one of the many games to win a large stuffed animal. Bucky is sure that they can win the game, but after many attempts (and a lot of cash down the drain) Bucky gives up. Frank, however, tries and succeeds on their first go.

Frank tossing snowballs at Bucky's window, not knowing the window is open and has no screen.

Bucky and Frank drowning in oversized sweaters during chilly days.

Bucky taking Frank out for Valentine's Day to cheer them up after their original plans with someone else fell through. As Bucky tries their best to make Frank happy and succeeds after only a few attempts, Frank realizes they would have rather been with Bucky anyways.

Them huddled by the fireplace at night after spending the day outside in the cold.

Bucky and Frank not speaking each other languages, falling in love and learning together.

Frank and Bucky haven't kissed yet. Each time Frank sees Bucky they think to themselves 'I've gotta do it this time' but they keep being too shy to do anything. One day a friend asks Frank if Bucky has ever tried to kiss them and Frank just screams.

Frank and Bucky playing in water and splashing each other.

Frank and Bucky wearing matching Halloween costumes or ugly Christmas sweaters. Or any matching outfits.

Bucky and Frank sending each other sexy/silly messages. 

Bucky and Frank playing a co-op video game and Bucky keeps dicking around and Frank just wants to get past the first level god dammit.

Them getting a puppy/kitty, and arguing over names.

Bucky and Frank dancing in the moonlight.

Frank pressing their forehead against Bucky's forehead to check if they have a fever.

Bucky is a special effects make-up artist and Frank always volunteers as their model when they want to try something new.

Bucky has amnesia and Frank is taking care of them. Frank tries their best to help Bucky remember them.

Bucky and Frank falling asleep together with their heads on the other's shoulder/head in the backseat of the car while their friend is driving.

Frank trying to mooch off of Bucky's wifi and jokingly putting their own name in as the password, then being shocked that it actually works and they're now connected to Bucky's wifi...

Frank catches a cold so Bucky makes them breakfast in bed.

Bucky and Frank holding hands because there's a crowd but not letting go when they get out of it.

Frank teaching Bucky how to kiss, and Bucky ends up kissing Frank really quick, nervously asks 'Like that?' and leaves Frank silent and flustered for a moment.

Frank lightly kissing Bucky on top of a freshly formed bruise.

Bucky snuggling up to Frank because it's cold.

Their first holiday season together.

Bucky playing their fingers through Frank's hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

[starship-squidlet]

Twelfth Night: Chapter Eleven, Pipers Piping

Summary: Back to work after Christmas! Things are a little tense, but everyone is just ready for the show to end...

Word count: 1,722

Disclaimer: Twelfth Night Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @prettyinlimegreenboots @fifty-for-the-racer @aggressive-bucky-barnes-stan (ask to be added/removed!)

A/N: Second to last chapter! This story has flown by so fast... I’m going to post the preface to the next story (The Green Fields of France, which will start posting 1/14 probably) I’m working on either tonight or tomorrow, so if you’re interested in being tagged in that please let me know!!! The sequel to Twelfth Night, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, will becoming at some point towards the end of February/early March, so keep an eye out for that as well!!! (Also coming soon: Space Pirates AU, and the New Music spinoff #2 and sequel!) Feel free to reach out and chat if you’re interested in knowing more about any of those, or if you want to be tagged when they’re posted!!!

Anyways, I hope this chapter isn’t too boring! It’s a lot of exposition and internal monologue because... at this point in a show... that’s about all you feel like doing 😂

Joke of the Day: What’s black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white? A penguin rolling down a hil!!!

Previous chapter: Lords A-Leaping

Next chapter: Drummers Drumming

No-one wanted to go to work on the twenty-sixth. Since Christmas Day had been so drowsy, they’d all had a hard time sleeping that night, so dragging themselves out of bed to get ready for work had been challenging. There was no lack of envy for Will, Alden, and Alan, who didn’t have to be in until two hours later than the others, although they still got up at the same time in a show of solidarity. Jack, Crutchie, and Elaine had to drag themselves down the block to the parking lot, almost completely silent save for the odd yawn or wordless grumble that escaped as they drove to the theatre. Inside, everyone else was just as still and quiet as they were—a “Christmas hangover”, as Race put it.

Jack moved through his pre-show preparations like he was moving through soup. Everything seemed more difficult than it should be, even simple things like rolling the cart-mounted carousel horses across the wagon house or rigging the carnival games. Elaine trudged through the wagon house, dragging the z-rack full of freshly-pressed dress shirts and scowling as the first performers began to arrive and fill the wagon house with their chatter—although even they weren’t as loud as normal. Not that anyone on the crew was complaining about that.

The only group that had even close to its normal level of energy was the child and teenage performers, who burst through the door in small packs, each one its own explosion of noise and color and force. Behind one of the little groups—the one containing one Leslie Jacobs—Jack had to hide a grin at the sight of an utterly exhausted-looking Davey Jacobs. When Davey caught sight of Jack, he perked up and smiled, giving the other man a small wave, before vanishing into the stairwell. A few minutes later, he was back, and sat down next to Jack on the bench by the stage right door with a sigh.

“How was your break?” Jack laughed.

“Well, we kind of crammed everything about Hanukkah—besides the candles; we did those during Hanukkah, but didn’t have time for anything else between working and finals and everything—into the past three days, and spent a lot of time on video chat with our parents. They wanted to come home, but decided it was probably best to just wait until the show closed because a lot of the time a second round of sick goes through in the last week just because everyone’s exhausted.”

“Great,” Jack groaned.

They watched Albert and Elaine walk past and pointedly ignore each other. Both of them arched their eyebrows at the odd interaction—or, rather, lack thereof—and watched the two head their separate directions.

“That was weird,” Davey observed.

“Yeah… I’m not really sure what it’s about. They were fine earlier.” Jack looked around and waved JoJo over. “Hey, what’s up with Albert and Elaine.”

JoJo shrugged. “Who knows. We’re all exhausted. They always fight when they’re tired. It’s probably nothing.”

Before the break, Jack had thought that the final Sunday’s show had been the slowest of the run. He had been wrong. The first show back was the slowest one—literally and figuratively; not only did it feel like it was dragging on, but, upon checking the time on his phone (repeatedly) he realized that was actually taking longer than normal to get through the show.

“Does the music sound slower to you?” he asked Race and Albert at one point as they moved the stage right house into place for a scene.

“Definitely,” Race grumbled.

“Even the band is out of patience with the show,” said Albert.

The second act, despite the high-energy start with the dancing and singing elves, things seemed to get even slower. From Race’s headset, Jack could hear the stage manager complaining about the lack of energy and speed—very loudly—and had to laugh. There was nothing to be done about it, after all.

The second show wasn’t much better, although the tempo picked up a little bit. They were still a few minutes longer than their normal run time, but had halved the amount of time that the day’s first show ran over.

For the rest of the week, things slowly moved closer and closer to normal. Everyone was still quiet and a bit lackluster, but the onstage energy picked up considerably the more shows they did—and the closer to closing they got. No-one ever figured out why Elaine and Albert were mad at each other, and Jack had a sneaking suspicion even the two of them wouldn’t have been able to answer if asked, but they were back to their normal scheming selves in a few days. Jack and Race decided to thank Mike, Ike, and JoJo for that, as another snowball war had been started—although this one was a stealth version that involved sneaking up on people before, after, and between shows; during intermissions; and even during lulls in the shows themselves and snipe-shotting one’s opponent with one of the little stuffed snowballs. Elaine always had a snow-puff in one of her apron pockets, and Albert kept at least one in the cargo pockets of his pants at all times. Jack guessed that Mike, Ike, JoJo, and Romeo—who was drawn into the war a little later—kept them on their persons most of the time as well. He never quite got used to the sight of fist-sized balls of fluff flying past his face in the middle of carrying props across the wagon house, usually followed by a startled yelp.

To everyone’s surprise, Elaine was the best participant in the war, and, when they were scolded by Weisel and called the competition off, she was declared MVP. Despite self-professed bad aim and poor depth perception—which the others could confirm, as other accuracy-based games that were played amongst the crew had illustrated her poor performance in these categories over the past months—she was scarily accurate with the light snow-puffs. It became common for her opponents to be in the middle of a conversation only to have a small ball of fiberfill and faux fur hit them in the back or head and to see a giggling, grinning Elaine dart around a corner or into a stairwell on the far side of the wagon house.

As they counted down to their final show, it was almost like everyone’s breath was held at the same time. The shows started to get faster now, and the protests by the stage manager over headset became pleas to slow down rather than speed up. Even the dancers commented on the increase in tempo, coming off from the tap number and elf sections breathless, sweaty, and laughing. A new energy seemed to be building up amongst both cast and crew, and Jack felt himself getting caught up in it without even noticing, the sort of energy that came with a storm on the horizon, with a wave about to crest in the ocean—with any sort of impending change.

Yet, with that nervous energy came an odd undercurrent of sorrow. As awful as so many of the parts of the show and its run had felt, as draining as the experience had been, as much as Jack wanted to be able to take a few days and just sleep—even though he knew that half of January was packed full of concerts and tours so he wouldn’t be able to do so for long—he was sad to see the show ending. Les Mis hadn’t felt like this, at least not that he could remember. He had felt ambivalent to tear that set apart after the final show, and happy to run his track for the final time. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had spent more time and energy working on the Christmas build, or just because he had grown so much more attached to the people he worked (and lived) with during this run, but he was truly sorry to see it go.

December 29th, 2019 was the second-to-last night of shows. Most of the performers spent more time than usual in the dressing rooms after the show, collecting personal belongings to take home with them. Many of them would be leaving the city or even state the next day, after the final show, heading for jobs at other theatres, as most of them weren’t permanent residents—the exceptions being two of the male singers, along with Alan, Alden, Will, and the show captain—of Santa Fe. One of the kid casts had had their final show the day before and had said tearful goodbyes to the adult cast members, each other, and even some of the crew. Some of them had returned tonight to see some of their friends on the other cast, and another round of tears went through the wagon house. Tonight’s kids cast had laid out their show t-shirts on the wagon house carpet and asked everyone to sign them. To his surprise, even Jack had been asked to sign several, and had reluctantly given in and done so.

Another reason that the ending of the show was particularly bittersweet, for Jack and his roommates, was that Will had told them, a few weeks earlier, that he would be moving back home to London in January, after accepting a job there. Despite jokes about having more space in the apartment and one less person to share the bathroom with, everyone was sad to see him leave, even Jack and Crutchie, despite only having known him for a few months. As the penultimate show drew to a close, Jack couldn’t help but notice Alan, Alden, and Elaine’s misty eyes as they prepared to say goodbye to their long-time friend and partner. He swallowed a lump in his own throat. It would certainly be strange to not hear Will’s accent somehow always discernible through the chatter of the entire cast, or run into him heading for the bathroom in the middle of the night at home. He’d be around for another week before leaving—it wasn’t like he was flying out after the last show, like most of the others, but quite suddenly it felt very much like he was going to be gone before they knew it. Maybe, Jack thought, that the show they had almost felt would go on forever was finally coming to an end…

[whitherliliesbloom]

it’s not even october!

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ]  ★ [ prompt #20 (free write) - shiver ]

[ wol & ryne ] ★ [ 1,779 words ] ★ [ highschool / modern au ]

ryne, illya and mentions of alphinaud, alisaie, gaia, aymeric and laurelis who belongs to @ancientechos​ and kirishimi who belongs to @windup-dragoon​.

alisaie wants to make sure every member among her group of friends visits her class’ haunted maze at least once - even the one who doesn’t do well with horror films.

“Please please please, Illya! You have to go with me! I-I don’t have anyone else to ask at this point!”

It’s not uncommon to find Ryne tailing her considerably shorter schoolmate with glasses around, nor would it be the first or last time she’s ever had to beg a favor for Illya.. but the desperation in Ryne’s voice would give unknowing casual observers the impression that what she was asking of Illya was something of a matter between life and death.

“Ryne.. if you’re that scared, why would you even want to go?”

“You heard Alisaie, right?? She worked really really hard on her class attraction.. She’ll be mad if we don’t pay it a visit at least once!”

The lalafell has serious doubts Alisaie would be so petty as to hold a grudge on her friends for not visiting her attraction... or maybe she would, but it certainly wouldn’t last long. Unsurprisingly however, of all people to take Alisaie’s threats seriously, it’d be the largely gullible, far too kind-hearted Ryne... who also happened to be one of the most faint-hearted of their clique, alongside a certain student council president that is.

Ryne was bubbly, outgoing, and popular with her peers to boot, not unlike Laurelis. But unlike the pink haired miqo’te, she doesn’t do well with any sort of scary attractions, horror films and of course, has never set foot inside a haunted house in her life. 

It’s not likely that this haunted maze attraction put together by a bunch of highschoolers would be quite as elaborate or scary as actual haunted houses - ones that she hears Alisaie and Gaia frequent during the annual scare festival held in the Black Shroud.. but it’d be insensitive to tell Sailor-Moon loving, plush hugging and sunlight loving Ryne that she has no reason to be as frightened as she is, not when Illya herself has no idea what to expect from the haunted maze.

“W-what about Gaia? I’m sure she’d be better company than me..” 

“She’s busy helping her class.. I asked Tataru and Kirishimi too! But Tataru is also helping her class’ maid cafe.. and Kirishimi says she’s busy too!” 

Figures.. and it just so happens that Illya was the only one on her shift break. Her class, who had decided on opening a little carnival game esque stall, had assigned her on a half hour break during this period where there weren’t quite as many people walking about in the morning. The crowds were certain to pick up later, especially in the afternoon when the festival would be open to the public. 

Illya doesn’t even think to suggest her boyfriend. He’d be far more hesitant on visiting the haunted maze than Ryne.. and he’s likely busy with his council duties anyway. 

“O-okay, okay. I’ll go with you.” The lalafell droops her shoulder in defeat, and Ryne’s face practically lights up with relief. 

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

“Welcome, welcome. Entry for two, I presume?” 

A familiar sultry voice greets them outside the classroom, which has been thoroughly decorated by fake cobwebs, pumpkin and skeleton stickers as well as an array of other equally spooky props littering the little booth that stood right outside the entrance. 

The windows and doors have been covered with black drapes, vandalized well with splashes of paint that would sell as convincing blood to all but the particular observant eye. 

“U-um.. Yes.” Illya isn’t typically the one to lead the way while hanging with friends, nor is she the type to speak for anyone’s behalf. But she thinks it better with how her friend was already huddled behind her, shivering slightly. “They assigned you to collect tickets, Aymeric?”

He dramatically grabs his cape and wraps it around him, and she could just barely catch a glimpse of fake fangs beneath his lips as he smiles.

“Yes.. I’d have been happy playing a role within the attraction itself.. But my classmates said something about my face attracting more ladies.”

Oh, of course. 

With a slight tilt of her head, Illya tears off two of her tickets from her booklet and hands it to the taller elezen, who gives a elegant bow before opening the door to the classroom.

It’s pitched black, and the path ahead is obscured by yet more black drapes. From beneath the cloth however, light fog seeps out and causes Ryne behind her to squeak. They went as far as to buy a fog machine?

“Then, I bid you welcome.. to your doom.” Aymeric’s voice greets them menacingly, though he is quick to look up at the pair with a gentler smile. “Please take one of the lanterns near the entrance before proceeding.” 

Illya doesn’t consider herself to be particularly courageous or fond of horror flicks herself, especially not on Alisaie’s level. But she’s watched enough films and visited enough haunted houses (dragged by Alisaie’s insistence, of course) to know that she’s not nearly as jittery about ghosts and the like compared to Ryne. She’s been jumped by professional actors in full elaborate costumes.. seen more fake blood and guts then she’d have liked to admit.. an amateurly put together haunted maze shouldn’t prove too difficult by comparison.

But she finds Ryne’s nervousness infecting her, and the gardening club president gulps before daring herself to push past the black drapes and step inside the room. 

As Aymeric had instructed, a box of fake plastic lanterns had been placed on the ground next to an equally plastic looking skull, and Illya picks one up before turning to look back at Ryne, whose complexion had already turned as white as a sheet.

The door slams shut behind them, and the pair nearly jump out of their skin.

“W-why is there even a haunted maze??? It’s not even October...” Perhaps desperate for some form of conversation to keep her mind off their treacherous journey ahead, Ryne asks as she huddles closer to Illya.. though their height difference makes it rather hard for her friend to provide any sort of physical protection or barrier for her, it beats going at it alone.

“Well.. haunted mazes are typically a staple in school festivals.”

Illya finally walks ahead, much to Ryne’s dismay, and pushes past the first set of drapes to enter a dark corridor with a pile of skeleton bones and metal bars lining either side of their path. A dungeon scene, it would seem like, filled with the corpses of those who had been sent away here to die.

The girls walk forward at a brisk pace, passing about halfway through the dungeon when the lantern in Illya’s hand begins to flicker.

“A-ah!! No! The lantern is haunted too!” 

“I-I think it’s just the battery-”

“Ooooh... everything is out to get us... Illya, I’m scared...” 

Out of the kindness of her heart, and consideration for her already thoroughly frightened friend, Illya picks up her pace and begins to walk through to the next area.

Fake metal chains covered in blood hung from the ceiling, and the fog they’d seen from earlier returns, though this time thick enough to actually obscure the path. It gives even Illya some pause, who thinks it better not to mention the ominous whisper she hears playing from some kind of speaker behind them to Ryne. 

Their pace slows from the fog and the chains that threatened to strike them in the face should they move too quickly, and just as the lantern in Illya’s hand flickers once more...

“AHHHH!”

Their first screams within the maze, raised in pitch as a bloody corpse jumps from behind a curtain to startle them, before quickly retreating into their hiding spot, satisfied at the scare.

“T-that was... that was so awful!!” Ryne nearly sobs into her hands, while Illya takes a deep breath and a huff, before recollecting herself enough to glance back at the obscured curtain with a raise of an eyebrow.

She doesn’t recognize that student.. which means that she’s still somewhere deeper in this maze.

“Let’s keep going, Ryne.”

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

The haunted maze was no bigger than the size of a classroom, despite the illusion of being far longer due to the winding paths and darkened halls. 

This class certainly spared no expanse when it came to making the maze as immersive as they could, and though it hardly matched up to the elaborate attractions of Scare Festival, Illya was still impressed enough with their effort to admit.. she can understand why Alisaie would be so insistent on her friends coming to visit this attraction.

But she still can’t help but shake the feeling that there was another reason.. something far more sinister, darker.. more malicious than the pure intention of showing off her hard work. 

“A-are we at the end yet???” Ryne’s voice is thin, as if she’d been screaming for an entire day now, and she looks about as ready to be done with the place as Illya herself is.

“We should be. By my estimation, this should be the last hallway.”

The two girls turn the corner, putting past the library of giant spiders and ghosts behind them only to find a giant coffin ahead of them, bathed in saturated red spot light and a dark red carpet leading up to it. It took even a moment for Illya to realize it was simply made of cardboard.. the spray paint and detailing of the outline of the box coupled with the lighting certainly sold the illusion of it being a real coffin well.

It was the only thing standing in between them and the exit, their last obstacle. 

But before they could rush their way past the coffin, a voice spoke out.

“So.. you’ve survived this far.”

The coffin door opens, and from within, more fog spills out. A spiked boot takes a step out, and just barely, they catch a glimpse of a bloody clawed hand grasping at the door of the coffin.

“But don’t count on your luck.. You only survived this far because I allowed you to. Now...”

The coffin door slams open, and the red spotlight shines upon a suited demon, who lets out a wicked laugh before charging towards the girls.

“I SHALL DEVOUR YOU BOTH!!”

“....Alisaie?”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

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

come to our attraction COWARDS 😈 @angelosxx tweeted:

So my class had to shut down our haunted house cause Ryne collapsed on the floor and wouldn’t let go of Illya or open her eyes 😅

- stop giving me shit bout my lipstick @gaiacore replied: 

....for real?

- cosplaycon2020hype!! 💫 💛 @ryneoflight replied:

you guys made it way too scary!! it’s not my fault!!  😭 😭 😭

-That Kiri Dumbass @betterthanestinien replied:

Oh damn wouldn’t liked to visit lol

[smalltowndetective]

31 Days of Wayhaven-Strong

@31daysofwayhaven

Admittedly kind of nervous of posting this one, hopefully it turned out okay!

(The Fae as showed here are likely wrong. I have been digging through Sera’s asks for more information about them, but at the current moment, there is just not much that is known about them. I tried my best to show them in the best way possible, so I hope that it worked out!)

Ao3 Link

Title: Quiet Strength 

Pairing: Felix and Thea

Words: 2.5k

It was a wonder to Thea how she ever became a detective.

Back at the police academy, she was known for being a bit of a weakling, the “little flower” of the cadets, and it did not help that she was the shortest out of all of them. Thea hated everything to do with any amount of blood and gore, and while she learned how to use a gun, she never had (and likely never would) shoot at a live target with it, and to add all on top of that, she had no combat skills whatsoever.

She was not half bad at the deduction courses, anything about knowledge and critical thinking coming easier to her, but where Thea really shined was her skill with people.

Not so much with interrogations, unfortunately, the stress of the situation often getting to her, and the fact that she was probably the least intimidating person in existence, but with the people that came into the station. Thea was the one that the officers sent all of the grieving families toward, saying that she always seemed to know the right thing to say, but she never felt like she did. She just gave them a shoulder to cry on, and did her best to stay calm when they were not as receptive, knowing that she was seeing them on what was likely the worst day of their life.

Thea had been told constantly that she would never fit in with the big city cops, but she never let that bother her, because as soon her training was complete, she knew she was going back home to Wayhaven.

Her promotion to detective was a complete surprise to her. She had assumed Tina would get it because she had been there longer, or they would bring someone new in. Thea was only two years older than Douglas, and she had not been an officer for an incredibly long time. Part of her wondered if she had gotten it just because of her father, but at first, she was able to push this away, trusting that she got it on merit.

Then Unit Bravo came to town, and the doubts started to settle in more and more. What was she going to do against an angered supernatural, talk? Thea had poured herself into research about the supernatural world, but even with all of the knowledge she had acquired, she never felt like she belonged in the team. All of the others had their own specific skill sets that all added something, but Thea did not feel like she had anything to offer to the team.

Which is why she was surprised when Adam asked her to do the first sweep of the mission with him.

Felix had been against the idea of the two of them separating, and truthfully, she was as well, but she decided to go with Adam’s plan anyway, curious as to why he would ask her to go with him.

So now she was here, outside of one of the run-down houses in the woods in Wayhaven, freezing, following Adam through the dark. Thea was out of her normal sundress, with a sweater and jeans instead, but it did not do much against the chill of the night. Her small flashlight was the only light she had, and she supposed she had Adam’s night vison as well, trusting him to lead the way through the dark.

Thea tried to look at the house with the little light she had. It was half crumbling at this point, and the owners of the land no longer lived in Wayhaven, so here the house stood, in the middle of the woods, with chipping white paint and black shutters starting to look crooked from the passage of time. They had been notified of a potential hostage situation in the area, which is why the team decided not to send all of them at once, but Thea was not quite sure what she would offer over one of the others.

“Detective”.

“Yes?”, she called back, going to stand next to Adam, who had stopped just outside the front steps.

“Be as cautious as you normally are”, he said, “We don’t know what we are walking into”.

Thea gave one last look behind her, almost hoping to see a pair of amber eyes gleaming in the dark, “I will”.

Adam nodded, seeming satisfied with her response, and they strode off to the front door, quickening her step to keep up with him.

The front door was unlocked, which is struck her as odd, and even if the grip still felt foreign in her hands, she grabbed her gun, despite knowing it would not do much against the supernatural, and they made their way inside.

The owner of the house had left shortly after his wife died, and the house was left to sit as it was. Light blue curtains had become shredded over time, with the furniture full of scratches and water stains, the wooden floor rotting in some places. It was probably not safe to be walking through the house with these conditions, but there was not much else that they could do.

“I’m going to look down the hallway”, Adam said, “You take the main room”.

“Sounds good”, Thea said in response, and started looking around the room. In most parts of the room, everything was covered with a layer of dust, but she noticed the kitchen table did not. In fact, it looked like someone had put something on top of it recently, making almost a shape, but it was hard to tell what it was in the dark, and the electricity had been cut to the house ages ago.

She continued to look through the kitchen, opening the drawers to see if anything was there, but Thea did not find much more then normal kitchen appliances, and her chest fell.

I guess whoever was here took everything they had with them.

A loud crack of wood, followed by a scream that was definitely not Adam broke through her thoughts, and she raced back to where he had gone.

Thea found Adam outside of the very back backroom, a heavy lock on the ground, broken into two, the wood splinters from the door all over the ground, his knuckles bruised, but healing as she ran up.

“What’s going on?”, she asked him, turning her flashlight to face him in the dark, and when Adam did not answer, seemingly in disbelief, she looked inside the room with the now broken door.

Inside the dingy back bedroom, the room empty besides a single blanket and camping lantern, was a little girl. Though Thea was not quite sure, she looked like some sort of fae, with bright green hair that fell to her shoulders, her eyes completely blue, with a small shimmer of white ,her skin almost having an orange tint, and she was dressed in tattered hides that were similar to the ones that Felix was wearing in the memory from the carnival, and her heart tightened at the thought. She looked about four years old, but there was really no telling how old she was due to how supernaturals aged differently them humans. Thea looked back at Adam, who the first time in the time she knew him, seemed at a lost of what to do.

“Hey”, she said, smiling sweetly and kneeling down to her eye level. Thea them realized she might not know English, and while she knew several other languages, the native language of the echo world was not one of them, but she continued anyway, “My name is Thea, and this is Adam. We’re here to get you out of here.” She used Adam’s name, even though she knew that he would not likely appreciate that in order to create some level of familiarity with her.

“Out?”, she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, looking back at Adam with frightful eyes.

“Yes”, Thea said, “You never have to come back here. I promise”.

“Is there anyone else here?”, Adam asked.

The girl said nothing is response, seeming even more on edge after he spoke.

“I think whoever was here is long gone by now”, Thea said, turning back to Adam, “But we need to get her back to the others”.

Adam nodded, “I can. I still haven’t checked the master bedroom, and it seems to be best if you did.”

               “I want to go with you”, the little girl’s voice cut in, moving closer to Thea and putting her hand on top of hers.

               Adam shook his head, “Fine. I’m going to wait to process the rest of the house until the rest of the team gets here. One of us needs to stay behind in case they come back.

               Thea nodded, and she got up from off the ground, and offered her hand to the girl, who took it, and she carefully led her out of the house together.

               As they walked onto the porch of the house, it struck her just how dark it was, and how the small flashlight she did have was barely doing anything to light up the vast expanse of the forest.

               “I’m scared”, she heard the girl mutter, who started hanging onto her leg, and Thea gently brushed her hand through her hair.

               “It’s okay to be scared”, Thea said, “But I’m going to be here every step of the way”.

               She picked her up, letting her head rest on her shoulder, as she trudged through the forest, trying hard to fight the urge to run, instead taking careful steps, keeping the flashlight steady, and thinking about seeing the team again after this moment of fear, especially one in particular.

               Thea finally made it to the main road where the rest of Unit Bravo was waiting, the streetlights adding some warm amber glow to the surroundings, and let herself breathe as she saw the others.

               “Thea!”, said a voice that never failed to make her smile. Felix stopped pacing, and almost ran up to her, and she could feel the girl move her head at the voice, “You’re back!”.

               “I am”, she smiled, and both Nate and Mason came walking up to her as well.

               “Where’s Adam?”, Nate asked.

               “Still back at the house”, she replied, “He wanted me to get the rest of you before he finished processing”.

               “Any sign of anyone else there?”, Felix asked, “And I’m guessing she’s the hostage we were told about?”

               “Someone was”, Thea said, “But they are long gone by now. And as far as hostages go, she is probably one of them, but there is reason to believe there may be more than one.

               “Why would they leave her behind?”, Nate said, looking worryingly at girl in her arms, and he gave her a smile.

               “I don’t know”, Thea sighed, and she slowly set her down on the ground, her still holding onto her leg.

               “We should get going”, Mason interrupted, and Nate nodded in response, then turned to Thea.

               “Are you staying behind with her?”

               “I am”, she said, looking back at the girl.

               “Can I stay with Thea?”, Felix asked.

               Mason snorted, and opened his mouth to say something, but Nate got there first.

               “Yes. It’s better if none of us are out her alone”.

               Felix beamed at that, and as Nate and Mason walked into the woods, he walked up to her, throwing an arm over her shoulders.

               “Glad to see you’re okay”, he grinned, and even though it was said lightly, it was meant more serious than he had intended.

               “The same to you”, she said, trying to fight down a blush on her cheeks.

               He smiled at her again, a softer one this time, and then looked down at the girl, “What’s your name, kiddo?” He then paused, and then repeated his question in echolian, and Thea noticed that he frowned slightly as did so.

               “Arethusa”, she whispered, and Felix smiled back at her, before turning to Thea.

               “So, what happened?”

               Thea went through it from the beginning, and told him the story, describing the house and finding Arethusa, and he stayed silent and listened to her, which surprised her a little, expecting him to say something, and it started to worry her about how quiet he was being.

               “Do you think she’s from the echo world?”, Thea asked him, and he could feel him tense at the question.

               “Probably”, he shrugged, not meeting her eyes, and Thea gently grabbed one of his hands, and at the gesture he grinned back at her, but it struck her as a masking one.

               “Are you okay?”, she finally asked, and Felix gave a small laugh.

               “Of course, I am”, he said, giving her a smirk, “When am I not?”

               Thea could feel herself raising an eyebrow at the statement, which caused Felix to sigh.

               “I’m okay, Thea”, he whispered, “I promise”.

               She did not fully believe him, and not quite sure what to say, she ran her thumb over his wrist the same way that he had down the same for her countless times, and he gave her a genuine smile that never failed to fill butterflies in her stomach, letting herself get lost into his amber eyes.

               “When are we leaving?”, Arethusa suddenly said, and it jolted Thea out of the moment, feeling awful for forgetting about her for a second.

               “Whenever the rest of my team gets back”, she said, looking back into the expanse of the trees, as if expecting them to turn up then.

               “And when will that be?”

               “Hopefully not much longer”, Thea responded, not sure if she was saying that for Arethusa or for herself.

               And to the luck of the three of them, it was not long afterwards that the rest of Unit Bravo came through the trees.

               “Anything?”, Felix asked as they walked up.

               Nate shook his head, “No. Someone was using the master bedroom as a base of operations of sorts, but they were careful enough not to leave anything behind.”

               “What’s going to happen to the girl?”, Mason’s voice cut through, sharp, and Thea could feel Arethusa’s grip tighten around her leg at the sound of it.

               “We’ll take her back to the Agency”, Nate said.

               “She can ride in my car”, Thea brought up, “We’re all going back to the warehouse after all”.

               “What’s going to happen to her?”, Felix asked.

               “We’ll figure it out later”, Adam said, “Let’s get back first”.

               Felix gave her hand a reluctant squeeze of goodbye before going to the others, and she heard a voice that she never expected to hear say her name.

               “Thea, can I speak to you?”

               She turned, to find it was indeed Adam, her name from him seeming foreign to her. He had never called her by her first name.

               “Yes”, she said slowly.

               “You did good work”, he stated simply, “It would have been hard to complete the mission without your help”

               “Uh, thanks?”, she responded, never would have expected that to come from him.

               He nodded, and then turned to go walk back to the rest of the team, as if that was all that needed, and as Thea thought about it, she decided that it really was.

               Arethusa climbed into the backseat of her car, and Thea drove off, following the Agency car where the others were, and she allowed herself to smile, finally starting to feel at ease with the fact that maybe there was something she had to offer this team.

[mamthew]

A Final Fantasy Ranking

Over the course of the quarantine, and because I had such a good time with the Final Fantasy VII Remake, I've ended up blazing through a ton of Final Fantasy games. Since April, I've played IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XII, and XIII. 6, 7, 9, and 10 I'd beaten before. 4, 12, and 13 I'd played to some capacity before. 5 and 8 were completely new experiences. I had no interest in going further back than IV, since it was the first one to really put any effort into character work, and I didn't play either MMO because MMOs don't really appeal to me (I'm planning to try XIV whenever this new update drops that makes the story mode more accessible, but it keeps getting pushed back so oh well). I also didn't replay XV because I've played XV three times and watched other people play it in its entirety twice, so I have a much better handle on it than any other game in the series.

Anyway, I didn't really have any plans for what I'd do with this, besides get a better understanding of the series as a whole, but I was kinda inspired to do my own Final Fantasy ranking. I'll probably be a bit more detailed than I should be because I tend to overanalyze my media and end up having too much to say. I’m actually not placing VII Remake in this ranking half because I regard it as a spinoff and half because it’s not yet a complete story, even though Part 1 is unquestionably a complete game. If I were to put it somewhere, it would probably be close to the top, possibly even in second place. Also worth noting that this is gonna have SPOILERS for every game I discuss here. I really just wanna use this as a place to nail down some of my thoughts on these games, so they’re pretty stream of consciousness and I didn’t bother avoiding any details from the plots.

10: Final Fantasy VIII.

I don’t think there’s another game in the series with a more obvious corporate hand in it than VIII. It’s kinda the Fant4stic of FF games; there are the bones of a substantive game in there somewhere, but every aspect of the game is such a bald attempt at checking off a 1999 list of “things gamers want” that the whole affair feels hollow and sickening. A major trend I’ve noticed throughout this series is the extent to which FFVII’s success pushed the architects of almost every subsequent game to try to recapture whatever it was that worked about VII, and VIII got the worst of it. It’s got the sullen guy with a special sword. It’s got the sci-fi. It’s got the terrorists with hearts of gold fighting against an oppressive state. It’s got the train scenes. It’s got the case(s) of amnesia that hides the true premise of the story. It’s got the ability to give any character any loadout.

Besides that, they kinda crammed in just a bunch of stuff popular with kids at the time. Jurassic Park? It’s in there. Beauty and the Beast? Here’s the ballroom scene. Hunchback of Notre Dame? Here’s that carnival. Alien? Now you’re alone on a spaceship running away from a horror monster. Saving Private Ryan? The party shares brains with war veterans and dreams of their experiences at war I guess. Half of anime? It’s all about a high school for mercenaries and the party is trying to get back in time for the school festival.  Fandom culture? Zines are a collectible item, and each one you find adds an update to Selphie's Geocities page. It also has astronauts, and transformers, and a haunted castle, and a prison break, and Rome, and Alpine Wakanda, and war crimes, and lion cubs that have attained enlightenment, and there’s almost no connective tissue from one idea to the next.

Also the junction system is convoluted and terrible, using magic makes your stats worse, all enemies level up every time you do, and I couldn’t tell you which character excelled in what stats. The characters were all very flat, and the first time I felt like I was seeing the characters interact in ways that helped me to understand them was in the cutscene that plays during the end credits.

Also the female lead’s role in the story changes entirely with no warning every five hours or so. She’s a terrorist, oh no she’s aristocracy in the country she’s terroristing against, oh no she’s jealous of the others because they grew up together and she didn’t, oh no she’s Sandra Bullock in Gravity, oh no she’s the villain and it’s too dangerous to let her out, oh no it’s actually fine and they were bad for locking her up.

It’s an absolute disaster of a game. However, the music and background art is absolutely beautiful. Maybe they never gave me a good enough reason to be in an evil time traveling haunted castle, but damn is it a gorgeous rendering of an evil time traveling haunted castle.

9: Final Fantasy XII.

I’ve known for years that FFXII had issues in development. The writers came up with a story for it, and execs got scared because there were no young characters and they’d convinced themselves that young protagonists are what makes games sell. So two more characters - Vaan and Penelo - were added, one was framed as the protagonist of the story, and the entire story was rewritten so it could feasibly be from his perspective.

While the two characters they added are egregiously tangential to the plot, XII honestly has no protagonist. The writers originally wanted Basch to be the protagonist, but his entire arc is really just following Ashe around and being sad about his evil twin. Ashe is probably the most important to the story, but doesn’t have much presence for a good chunk of the story, and makes her most character-defining choice offscreen before having it stolen from her by a side character. Balthier has the largest presence in the story, and is most closely related to most of the events of the story, but has pretty much no role in the ending.

Honestly, if I were writing FFXII and told it needed a young protagonist, I would have aged up and expanded the role of Larsa, the brother of the main villain, who shows up as a temporary party member from time to time. The entire game is about family ties, and a journey spotlighting Larsa could have involved his learning about Ashe, Basch, Balthier and Fran’s family situations and using their experiences to grapple with his own. Damn, now I’m sitting here thinking about how good that could have been.

As it is, the game feels disjointed and aimless, and the ending is so bad it’s farcical. When I reached the ending, I watched Basch and Ashe forgive Basch’s evil twin for his villainy rampage, harking back to the moment earlier in the game when Ashe turned down the chance to gain powers that would have allowed her to avenge her country because she realized that those powers could also drive her to hurt innocents in the crossfire. In this moment, I realized how Vaan fit in as the protagonist of the game. “Oh, he’s going to realize that violence begets violence, and that he must break the cycle by forgiving Vayne for the death of his brother. He’s going to let go of that hatred he’s been trying to push onto someone for so long, and it’ll finally allow him to heal.” I realized that even though the road to this point was rocky, the writers had managed to craft a satisfying ending from the seemingly disparate pieces of this uneven plot.

And then Vaan picked up a sword and screamed AAAAAAAAAAA and charged Vayne down and stabbed him, and Vayne turned into a shrapnel robot dragon and exploded all the star wars ships and I threw my controller aside and laughed uncontrollably while my characters beat him up and completed the game on their own without any further input from me.

Oh yeah, the battle system is also incredibly boring. Instead of battling, the player writes up an AI script for each character, then lets them act based on those scripts. I would straight up put the controller down and watch youtube videos whenever a group of enemies showed up. I was pretty excited about the job system, but then there didn’t really feel like much of a difference between jobs, and my characters all behaved pretty much the same as each other.

The hands-off battle system, unfocused story, lethargic voice acting, and tuneless music all left me pretty uninvested in the whole affair. The art style and locations are beautiful, though, and it did make me want to eventually check out some of the Tactics games, which take place in the same universe but are supposed to have excellent stories and gameplay.

8: Final Fantasy XIII.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had two such opposing opinions of a game’s story vs. its gameplay. This game is the only one that plays with a bunch of story elements from FFIX, which did a lot to endear it to me. It’s sort of a game in which the protagonists are Kuja, the villain of IX. Like Kuja, they are created as tools by an uncaring god for the purpose of fighting against one world on behalf of another world, and are subsequently forced to grapple with the horrors of having an artificially shortened lifespan.

The story actually has a lot of Leftist themes, too. The gods of that universe spread ideology among the populace, and the people unquestioningly believe these false stories, as the gods have provided for them for as long as there has been written history. Much of the character arcs center on the characters being forcibly removed from their places within those ideological frameworks and having to unlearn what they’d always believed to be objectively true about the world.

So the story actually is pretty good, but it’s held back by some really clumsy storytelling; it constantly uses undefined jargon, has almost no side characters with which it might flesh out the world, actively fights against players trying to glean information from environmental details, and maintains (at least for me) a weird disconnect between the characters in the gameplay and the characters in the cutscenes. I think this partly stems from Square’s original failed plan for FFXIII to be the first game in a much larger series of games sharing themes and major story details. Despite these issues, however, the characters are all likeable and (mostly) believable, and their interactions are grounded in real emotional weight even while their universe feels intangible.

This all got dragged down by the gameplay, which is total dogshit. It’s got the worst battle system I think I’ve seen in an RPG. The game only stops being doggedly, unflinchingly linear about thirty hours in, the whole game took me about fifty hours, and I spent the last fifteen hours beating my head against each individual battle, waiting until the system hiccuped long enough to accidentally slide me a win. That meant I had about a five hour window of euphoric play, convinced that I actually loved this game, thrilled with every new experience it gave me, and excited to see what would happen next. I guess those five hours are what pushed this game over XII in my ranking.

7: Final Fantasy V.

Until FFXV, this game was the last of the “Warriors of Light” games, in which the game follows a party of four set characters for its entirety. To this day, it’s the last of the “Warriors of Light” games to let the player customize which character holds which roles through the job system.

FFV’s job system is the reason to play the game. Its story is mediocre, and its characters are all fairly flat, but there’s something viscerally satisfying about building party members up in jobs that might enhance the role they ultimately will fill. For my mage character, I maxed out Black Mage, Blue Mage, Mystic Knight, Summoner, and Geomancer. Then at the end, I switched her to a Freelancer with Black Magic and Summoning, and she kept all the passive skills for those jobs and also the highest stats across those jobs.

It was super fun and kind of a shift of focus for me, since I tend to place story above anything else in games. Despite the story not being special, though, the game’s writing is actually a ton of fun. It’s definitely got the most comic relief in the series, and I came away loving Gilgamesh as much as everyone else does.

And while it’s nothing special graphically, it does have some really cool enemy designs, and the final boss design is one of the most memorable ones they’ve ever done. Which is impressive because I keep having to look up Exdeath’s name because the character himself is super forgettable.

6: Final Fantasy IV.

This wasn’t the first game in the series to feature actual characters with names and depth, but I have no interest in playing FFII, so it might as well be. I actually played the DS Remake for this game, so it definitely had some quality of life improvements, like full 3d characters and maps, voice acting, an updated script, the ability to actually see the ATB gauge, and the ability to switch to other characters whose turns are ready without using a turn.

Apparently one thing the remake didn’t do was rebalance the difficulty for more modern sensibilities. Instead, this remake is...harder? It requires more grinding than the original? Why??

Either way, though, the story is actually solid! The game opens on its protagonist, Cecil, committing a war crime on the orders of his king, who raised him as a child. The first ten hours of so of the game follows Cecil as he tries to understand why he was ordered to kill so many innocents, turns his back on his country, and works to redeem himself.

This arc is reinforced by the game mechanics, too, which is super clever. His redemption is marked by a change in job from a Dark Knight to a Paladin, which also resets his level. For a time, his life is considerably harder because he’s finding his footing as a new person, which is marked by battles which had been easy becoming much harder for the player for a time.

This game places storytelling over gameplay more than I think any other game in the series. Each character is locked into a job, which I much prefer in my RPGs to games where characters function pretty much interchangeably. I dunno if it’s because I cut my RPG teeth on Tales, but it really bugs me when I can give Tifa the exact same loadout as Barret. I want the lives of the characters to bleed into their functions as gameplay devices.

However, the developers clearly had a ton of different jobs they wanted to add to their game, but hadn’t figured out how to allow for the player to switch in and out party members in standby. To fix this, they increased the in-battle party to five characters rather than or four (or the later constantly frustrating three), rotated the roster a ton, and had a ton of characters who straight up leave permanently. One character dies and never comes back. Two characters die and only are revived after it’s too late to rejoin the party. Four characters end up too injured to continue traveling.

This let the developers make a ton of jobs, but it doesn’t let the player exploit these jobs to their fullest. Characters’ stats reflect their role in the story, as well. One character is quickly aging out of adventuring, so his magic stats increase on levels, but his attack and defense stats actually decrease, signifying his failing body. Another character has already achieved some form of enlightenment, so he gains no stats when he levels up at all. The purpose of IV is the story, over any other aspect of the game, which makes it even more mindboggling that the remake would have increased the difficulty.

Besides that, the biggest issue I had with this game was the overbearing constant drama of it. While there were a few more lighthearted parts, they were mostly relegated to NPC dialogue and sidequests. The characters in this game don’t become friends so much as they become companions who bonded over shared tragedies, and this makes for quite a few scenes of every character separately wallowing in their own immeasurable sadness. I played FFV directly after this game and the light story and jokey dialogue was a much-needed palette cleanser.

5: Final Fantasy VI.

Before the unexpected success of FFVII irreparably changed the franchise, Square constantly mixed up the story formula for the series. IV, V and VI all handled their stories really differently from each other, and what I remember of III also felt fairly different from the games that came after.

Every game from VII on had a very clear protagonist (except XII, whose botched protagonist was still clearly marketed as the protagonist). The concept of the Dissidia crossover series is built on the idea that every FF has a protagonist at the center of its story. FFVI’s Dissidia character is Terra, but Terra is not the protagonist of FFVI.

Apparently while developing FFVI, the directors decided they didn’t want the game to have a clear protagonist, so they asked the staff to staff to submit concepts for characters, and they’d use as many as they could. This game has fourteen characters, each with their own fun gameplay gimmick in battles. Three of the characters are secret, and one can permanently die halfway through if the player takes the wrong actions. Of these fourteen characters, the main story heavily revolves around 3-6 of them, while five more have substantial character arcs.

There’s kind of a schism in the fandom over whether this game or VII is the best one in the series, and I can see why; this game is absolutely fascinating. No other game in the series has done what this game did, which means it’s one of the two FF games I really want to see remade after they complete this VII remake.

The first half is very linear. It breaks the beginning party into three pieces, then sends each character to a different continent, where they meet more characters and build their own parties before everyone reunites. Once the story has taken the player everywhere in the world, the apocalypse hits. The villain’s evil plan succeeds and tears the entire world apart.

The second half of the game picks up a year later with one character finally getting a raft and escaping the island on which she’s been marooned. In this half, the player navigates the world, which has all the same locations, but in completely different parts of the map. The driving factor for much of the second half is to learn from incidental dialogue where each party member has gone in this new world, to track them down, and to try to fix some of the bad that’s been done to the world before finally stopping the villain who destroyed it.

It’s unique and clever and occasionally legitimately tugs at the heartstrings some, which is impressive for a poorly translated SNES game. The final dungeon is a masterpiece all on its own. It requires the player to make three parties of up to four characters, then send them in and switch between them as new roads open. This way, the game manages to feel like an ensemble piece up to the very end.

4: Final Fantasy VII.

As I previously mentioned, there’s kind of a schism in the fandom over whether FFVI or FFVII is the best game in the series. Neither is the best game in the series. FFVII is better than FFVI. Oops.

When I was first drafting up this list, it was before I’d reached my replays of VI or VII, and I tentatively placed them next to each other, with the strong assumption that I’d end up placing VI a bit higher than VII, since it has so many strongly differentiated characters with solid story arcs, beautiful artwork, great music, etc. etc. Then I reached FFVII and not even four hours in, I realized it would have to be higher on my list than VI.

VI has a better battle system, its characters are much more differentiated by their gameplay, its character sprites have aged much better than VII’s character models, and it has four party members in battles instead of three. But I couldn’t overlook VII’s gorgeous artwork, sharp character work, and character-driven story. In the end, I had to give it the edge.

VII is a strange beast. It simultaneously really holds up and has aged horribly. The story is excellent and I love the characters, but the actual line-to-line writing is pretty bad, making the whole experience of the game a bit like swimming upstream; you’re getting somewhere good, but the age of the game is still pushing you back the best it can. Similarly, the background artwork is fantastic and gives the game locations a sense of place incomparable to anything that had come before it, but the character models are so low-poly that the two are constantly at odds with each other.

Still, the game is more a good game than it is an old one. I think it’s managed to duck the absurd level of hype around it by actually being very different from what the most popular images of it make it out to be, if that makes sense. The super futuristic techno-dystopia city only makes up a very small portion of the larger game, and most newcomers to the game won’t have seen Junon, or Corel, or Cosmo Canyon. Heck, I didn’t know Cait Sith or Red XIII were characters before I played the game for the first time. One of the many reasons I’m excited for the rest of this remake is to see newcomers to the story learning just how much variety there is to the world, events, and characters of this game.

FFVII also began (and pulled off really well) a number of storytelling trends that continued in subsequent games in the series. Obviously, almost every game since this one has a clear protagonist with a cool sword for cosplayers to recreate, and an androgynous villain whose story is closely linked to the protagonist (or one villain who is linked to the protagonist and a second one whose purpose is to look like Sephiroth), but it’s started broader, more quality shifts, too.

FFVII is the first game in the series to try to give all its characters arcs based on a similar theme, for example, a trend that has helped give it and future games a sense of thematic unity, especially in IX, X, and XV. Heck, that trend was why I almost came around on XII before they nuked it. It was also the first game in the series to have a real ending, rather than closing out with essentially a curtain call featuring all the party members, like they did in IV through VI (and I assume earlier).

Another common feature of FF games that it didn’t start with VII but certainly was canonized with it was the mid-game plot twist tying the protagonist to both the villain and the larger story. FFIV had this as well, of course, but I feel like the orphanage twist in VIII, the Zanarkand dream twist in X, and the time skip twist in XV were all meant to recall VII’s twist of Cloud’s…very complex existence (IX’s two worlds twist actually is a clear homage to IV, but it’d be hard to argue that Zidane’s connection to Kuja - and the character of Kuja generally - weren’t more influenced by VII).

2: Final Fantasy X and Final Fantasy XV.

Sorry, this one is a two-fer. I’m not gonna spend too much time on why I placed these two together in the #2 spot (I wrote a long thing on it here, if you’re interested). In summary, the games kinda mirror each other, in story and design. Each game can be seen in the negative space of what the other game leaves out, and at the end, the characters react to similar situations in completely opposite ways. For this reason, and that they’re of comparable quality, I think they’re best viewed as companion pieces.

FFX was the first mainline Final Fantasy game I ever completed, six years late. It was the first FF game with voice acting and many fully modeled locations. It also kinda marks the beginning of the series’ constant changes to the battle system.

That’s not to say the previous games’ battle systems didn’t also differ from each other, but they all had the same setup, with levels and an ATB gauge. This was the first game since III not to have any real-time element to its battle system, nor numbered levels gained through experience points. Since X, no two FF battle systems have been remotely comparable, which is cool and innovative and keeps things fresh, but also means I’ve been starved for just a regular ATB FF game for too long.

In many ways, FFX feels like a bridge between the PS1 games and the later games. It feels much more streamlined than VII, VIII, or IX, in terms of both storytelling and design. The game is very linear, pushing the player from one area to the next and not allowing much backtracking until the very end. It also loses the aging look of the PS1 games’ menus and UI, finally updating the classic font and the blue menus with white borders to fully modernized and sleek graphics.

However, movement still feels very similar to movement in VIII and IX, the music definitely evokes the PS1 games more than the later games, and most locations are portrayed with beautifully painted backgrounds, rather than modeled in (which I actually prefer, and I was glad to see that VII Remake has gone back to that in some places).

Voice acting in this game is phenomenal for 2001, and honestly on par with many contemporary games. I can’t think of a voice actor for the main cast who didn’t do a great job. Tidus’s narration, especially, is emotional and evocative in all the right ways. Grounding the plot in a very personal story about Tidus’s difficulty coming to terms with and proving himself to his abusive father keeps the story relatable and real.

Something interesting about my experience with X is that because it was my first Final Fantasy game, I thought for a very long time that the series was about organized religion, and the ways it is used to justify evil acts. This might be the only game of the ones I’ve played that is about organized religion, or even prominently features a religious doctrine, which really sets it apart from the rest of the series.

The game’s thematic unity is on point, even if there is a scene where they state the central themes a bit too plainly. Every character, and even the entire universe of the story, is held back by the past, and every subplot and the main plot revolves around finding ways to move forward and leave the past behind.

I love FFXV. It feels like a return to form after XII and XIII. It’s also probably the furthest any game in the series has strayed from the original formula. Battles are entirely real-time, and the game is a straightforward action game. There is very little time spent with menus, and even the leveling system has been stripped down to a few skill trees. It’s immediately obvious that the game was originally created to be a spinoff, not a main title.

FFXV is also probably too much a product of the current era of microtransactions and payment plans. The full story is spread out across *deep breath* a feature film, an anime series, an anime OVA, a standalone demo, two console games, four DLC story chapters, a multiplayer side game, a VR fishing game, four phone games (though really three phone games because A New Empire straight up isn't in that universe and also is terrible), an expansion including several entirely new dungeons, and finally a novel set to release sometime this year. That’s a whole lot of story. I’ve not played the phone games or the VR fishing game, or read the novel yet, but I’ve experienced all the rest.

But I also played FFXV when it first released, before any patches, before I knew there was a film, just the game all on its own. So you can believe me when I say that without any supplementary material, the game is still great.

It goes back to the FFI, II, III, V “Warriors of Light” system, where the party has four characters who do not change at all throughout the game. While this bugged me at first, I soon came to appreciate having a story where almost all character interactions involved these four characters. It meant I came to understand them well enough to feel like they were my friends, too. Most characterization in this game is understated, presented through small shared moments, dialogue, and body language as they travel the world together. Much like X, the overarching story might be expansive and far-reaching, but the real show is in the personal journeys the friends have.

Much of the first half of the game is spent exploring an open world, driving along the road and getting out of the car for pit stops or to explore the forests nearby. This is one of the very few games where I don’t mind just exploring an area without the promise of an upgrade or a new scene, just to see what’s around the corner, or to hear whatever banter the characters might engage in next.

The entire world of this game is gorgeous, and the orchestrated music is some of the best they’ve ever done. The main plot is beautiful, too. It’s bittersweet and emotional, with a charismatic villain and a twist that blew me away the first time I reached it.

The supplementary material is also mostly really quality. I’d recommend the Royal Edition over the original edition for sure, and to watch Kingsglaive as well. The anime series is quick and fairly fun, and Comrades expands on the universe in some great ways, but neither has as much bearing on the overall plot as the DLC chapters and Kingsglaive. I’m so in love with the DLC chapters, actually, that two years ago I wrote a piece just on how much Episode Ignis affected me (here if you care).

This is definitely getting long, so I guess I’ll move on after saying I’m upset that they patched Chapter 13 to make it easier, and I’m angry at everyone who complained that Chapter 13 was too hard. It was a brilliant piece of storytelling through game mechanics, and it’s mostly been stripped of all that, now.

1: Final Fantasy IX.

It’s IX. It was always IX. I actually did come into this with an open mind, wondering if one of the new games I’d experience (IV, V, VIII, XII, XIII) might end up hitting me harder than Final Fantasy IX, but as I replayed my favorite game in the series I quickly realized that wouldn’t be happening.

There are only a handful of games that make me cry. IX is one of two without voice acting. There are several songs from IX that make me tear up just when I hear them.

The story of the black mages gaining sentience, learning that they can die, and trying to force themselves back into being puppets just to lose that knowledge really moves me. The same goes for the story of Dagger no longer recognizing her mother, setting out to find a place to belong, learning that her birth family is long dead, then watching her mother return to her old self a moment before losing her forever. And Zidane’s story, where he has nowhere to call home, finally discovers the circumstances of his birth, and realizes that had he stayed in his birthplace, he would have become a much worse person than he ultimately did.

More than any other, though, Vivi’s story will always stick with me. He was found as a soulless husk by Quan, a creature with the intention of fattening him up and eating him, but each of them awoke something in the other, and Quan ended up raising Vivi as his grandson. When Quan passed, a rudderless Vivi went to the city to find a new home, and eventually learned he was created as a weapon. Other weapons had also gained sentience, but none had the worldliness that Vivi had gained from his loving relationship with Quan. When Vivi discovers that most weapons like him die after only a few months, he grapples with the possibility that he may die at any time, and eventually decides that he can only take control of what life he has by living each moment to the fullest. He ends up becoming an example for the other weapons to follow.

FFIX is a game about belonging: both yearning to have somewhere to belong and learning that the place where you think you belong is actually toxic and harmful to you. Even the menu theme is a tune called “A Place to Call Home.”

IX ran counter to the trends of the series in a number of ways. It was a return to high fantasy after the more sci-fi VII and VIII, and was also much more lighthearted than those games, while still being heartfelt and occasionally bittersweet. Gameplay-wise, it locked each of its characters into a single job, gave them designs based on their jobs, brought back four-character parties, and introduced a skill system in which characters learn skills from equipment. It also had a much softer, less realistic art style, and mostly avoided the attempts to recapture VII that have plagued most other subsequent titles (besides Kuja’s design, I guess).

The story is also structured so well. It regularly shifts perspective for the first thirty hours, allowing the player to spend ample time with each of the party members, and shaking up character combinations for fun new interactions. It introduced a system similar to the skits from Tales games, showing the player often humorous vignettes of what’s happening to other characters at the time. Once the characters have all come together in one party, the game has earned the sense that all of them (except for the criminally underexplored Amarant) have become a family.

The supporting cast are a blast as well. Zidane’s thief troupe (who double as a theater troupe) are likeable and fun. Kuja’s villain arc allows him to be sympathetic without losing his edge. The black mages are tragic without being overdone.

The development team for this game put so much more work into this game than they had to. The background artwork was all made in such high-definition resolutions that the act of downscaling them to fit in the game removed details. Uematsu traveled to Europe to make sure he’d get the feel of the soundtrack right, and has said it’s his favorite score he’s ever done. Sakaguchi, the creator of Final Fantasy, says IX is his favorite game in the series.

FFIX is one of the two games I would like them to remake after they finish the VII Remake, but I’m terrified they’ll mess it up in some way. Honestly, the game’s only flaws (which I do desperately want them to fix) are a lack of voice acting, the underdeveloped party member Amarant (and to a lesser extent Freya), the dissonance of Beatrix never getting punished in any way for her hand in a genocide, and the fact that very few of the sidequests are story-related because so many of the smaller story details that would normally be relegated to sidequests are covered in the main plot.

Despite the danger, though, I think revisiting IX is absolutely essential moving forward. It represents so much of what made older games like IV and VI great, and its story is much more grounded in real emotion than many current Square stories tend to be. Remaking VII will be good for getting VII out of Square’s system. Remaking IX would be good for putting IX back into Square’s system.

Here’s a IX song as a reward for getting this far. I’m gonna go listen to it and tear up again.

[honey-harper-official]

Together Chapter 4

This is an au where Georgia managed to save Evie and Nova and they get adopted by Hugh and Simon and get a happy childhood.

Instead of doing anything useful at Headquarters, they ended up going to Danna's place to spend time. All of them were off shift until later that night as they had arranged their schedules so they could see her and hang out.

While Nova was a Renegade, unofficial like Adrian but still a Renegade, since she left for college she didn't do patrols any more. She spent most of her time working in the archives with Callum at night, constantly looking for something to help Max be able to leave the quarantine.

She knew that they were taking blood from Max though she didn't know what for. Hopefully they were looking for a way to be able to help him leave it. She couldn't think of anything else that they would need it for either.

But it was late and they all decided to part ways before Danna and Oscar's fake arguments turned real and they would be mad at each other through out patrol. At least that was the cover. All of them had been collaborating to help Oscar get alone time with Ruby. Danna's apartment was in between all of their places, Oscar and Ruby living close together so he would walk home with her in one direction and Adrian and Nova would leave in the other.

However, now it was proving beneficial to Nova. She needed to talk with Adrian urgently. Even if they were trying to put things back to normal and she didn't want to ruin their friendship, Nova didn't want to push off the conversation about his confession off again.

It wasn't nothing and it certainly wasn't a mistake. Not to Nova. Never to Nova.

"Adrian- I know you don't really want to talk about it but I know for a fact that you'll never want to talk about it. We just have to get it over with."

"Nova it's nothing," he said, brushing her off again. It made her blood boil.

"No Adrian we need to talk about this now! You can deny it but it's not going to solve anything!" She yelled, frustrated. He looked taken aback at her sudden outburst but they both knew she had a temper. "Just talk to me please. It's all I can think about half the time. Come on. It's just me. You don't have to hold back. No secrets."

He started to look equally as frustrated, his eyebrows scrunching together as he scowled. Nova rarely saw him like this but even then, she couldn't keep herself from thinking about how cute he looked. Adrian turned his head towards her, eyes softening and his frustrated expression gone as soon as it came.

"I'm sorry for being such an ass about this."

"Don't be. I get it."

Nova did understand. It wasn't a lie or exaggeration. She would probably act similarly if she had just confessed like that to him before he left her for another month or so. He was entitled to his feelings over it. Anyone was in the situation. It still didn't stop her from wanting to discuss what happened.

"No. It's not fair to you to have brushed it aside."

"So just tell me. Tell me what's going through your mind."

"I- I didn't realize that I liked you that way until you left for college and you were going to leave again and I just- I couldn't just let you leave without doing anything. I don't know what came over me but I told you and then you left. I assumed that you didn't want to have a relationship like that with me."

"I wasn't upset. I was just shocked. I didn't know and I was about to leave anyways. I went to call you when I got back to my dorm but.... I didn't know what to say. I have had feelings for you too for a while and I guess, after you told me, they kind of just hit me like a bus and I didn't know how to handle it. You're my best friend and I didn't want to mess it up and once I knew what too say, it was too late," Nova admitted, eyes darting to the ground as heat rose from her neck to her face.

He brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes before smiling slightly. "Your ears get all red when you're embarassed," he mumbled.

She smiled and grabbed his hand, now having a sudden bolt of courage running through her. "Come on. I want to show you some place."

She dragged him out of the main city streets and took him to a sidewalk far off of the central ones. The path grew more and more rocky and uneven, the cement path crumbling for years of damage and no repair. The water from the docks grew closer and closer along with the smell of the salty ocean.

She brought him to the old lighthouse. There was a sign on it that said condemned but Nova disregarded it. She had climbed to the top hundreds of times and knew that it was actually very stable, it just didn't look like that from years of grime and general aging. They had just put that sign there because it was during the Age of Anarchy and someone probably put the sign there to use it as a hide away. Not like it actually worked as it didn't deter Nova in any way.

Adrian said nothing and let her lead him up the steps and to the top where the broken light was, hand gripping hers tightly.

"Watch your step," she warned, turning her head to glance at him. She had memorized where the steps were since she came so often. She didn't think Adrian had ever been here. He usually stayed away from things that said they were not for public use.

They reached the top and he gasped. The lights of boats blinked and moonbeams danced on the dark water. You could faintly hear the horns of the boats and the water lapping at the side of the lighthouse. It was on a cliff and with time, had become sea level though the two of them were still extremely far up.

You could see the next city over and the Gatlon bridge that lead to it, both for cars and for trains. You could also see the faint outline of an amusement park. It wasn't Cosmopolis Park but the LA City Park which had a summer long carnival running still.

"You like it?" Nova asked, leaning on the railing to look over at the water.

"Nova this is incredible," he said, stunned. 

She turned to look at him. The lights flickered on his glasses, high lighting his beautiful brown eyes, making them look like the hundreds of stars that her father would pull from thin air.

She smirked. "I know." 

She turned away from him. She was blushing so much that she didn't need to see it to know and he would be able to tell even in the dim lighting of the run down lighthouse.

Nova felt his hand slide over hers on the railing, his fingers lacing hers. He turned her body to face his.

"I like you and you like me. Correct?"

"Correct."

"Good."

He leaned in and kissed her, softly and gently. It was nothing like her first kiss where it was rushed and hesitant. Now she was with someone who liked her the same way she liked them but for some reason, she still gasped. It must have been the feeling of electricity coursing through her veins that caused it because there was no reason to be surprised by the kiss, only the new feelings it brought to her. 

He pulled away, concern written on her face as if he had done something wrong. Before he could say anything she grabbed his face and brought it to hers, kissing him harder then before. If she had any second guessing before, there was none now. She wanted him desperately. She had forgotten what it was like to want someone so bad as she did now. To want anything as bad as she did now for that matter.

Her heart was beating like a drum and she could feel her skin heating up. She melted at every one of his magical touches and moaned when he bit her bottom lip. 

It felt good to just be teenagers kissing in a secret hide-away. No adults to make it embarrassing. No worries of someone catching them and embarrassing them. No worries of school or patrols. Nothing but them and a scenic background. It was on their terms. 

"So no more awkward moments," Nova said, finally pulling away to take a deep breath.

Their foreheads were pressed together, her body practically consumed by his. Her arm was still wrapped around his neck, the other holding onto his shoulder. He was grasping her hips tightly but gently, carefully leaning her against the rail.

"I hope so," He laughed. "My mom will probably be excited when she finds out we're dating."

Nova rolled her eyes. "What council member won't be? However you're going to have to watch out for my sister. She loves you but she doesn't like sharing time with me since we get so little now."

"Then I'll help you get your degree faster so you can come home and I can have as much time with you as I want. You're a genius so I don't think it'll be too hard."

"Keep on sweet-talking to me and this night will be taking a different route."

"I don't know if that's supposed to be a threat or some sort of flirty remark but I'm taking it as a flirty remark."

He leaned in, kissing her for another miraculous time. As he repositioned her in his hold, the edge of his fingers graced her stomach, sweeping under her shirt. He paused and cautiously lifted up the edge of her shirt.

"Is there something wrong?" Nova asked, confused as to what he was doing. 

She didn't think he was going to take off her clothes or anything. He would never do anything that made her feel uncomfortable and if he did he made sure that it didn't happen again. He must have had some reason.

"Is that a belly-button piercing?" He asked, looking for the glint of metal in the moonlight.

"Yeah. I thought it'd be fun."

"Did you get any other body modifications? I know you had talked to me about getting a tattoo."

"Maybe. Maybe not." She gave him a Cheshire Cat grin, leaving him rolling his eyes.

"Come on Nova. Tell me." He pleaded. He kissed her neck, lips directly on the part that was her soft spot. She forgot he knew about that spot. "No secrets remember." 

She was hiding back a smile, he could tell by the way the corner of her mouth twitched and Nova knew that. She pushed his head away playfully, making him laugh.

Nova pulled back her hair, showing the piercings on her ear. She had gotten the industrial rod on one and a cuff through the other. Three normal piercings lined each lobe and there were a few more dotting around the inner part of her ears. These were less obvious then the septum nose ring she got. However she didn't show him the tattoo she got as she couldn't without having to take off her jeans. A set of black inked roman numerals rested on the side of her upper right thigh. It was the date of her parent's passing which was always something that was hard for her to discuss, even with him. She remembered it but at the same time, it was like she had blacked out. There was an overwhelming need to erase her mind of the night mixed with her being unable to forget it.

"You went all out. Did you get the tattoo though?" 

She nodded. "It's right here." She guided his hand to where it was, watching as his thumb ran under the ink despite it being under the denim pants she had on. Still, she felt electricity course threw her body and her heart fluttered with the touch. "It's the roman numerals I had told you about. I'd have you draw it on me but I think we'd both be in trouble with your mom for that."

"My mom and your dads would murder us both."

"Where would they start? The fact that I'd be pant less. The fact that I'm pant less and with you. The fact that I'm getting a tattoo and you're giving it to me." He let out a soft chuckle, gentle and pure. He finally released her from his hold, much to Nova's dismay though she would never admit it. He grabbed her hand and started to leave the lighthouse.

"Come on. I'll walk you home. I have patrol soon," he said as they started to leave. Her hand grasped his tightly and she thought he might feel her heart thundering with excitement just by holding it.

The streets were relatively quiet save for a few stray cars occasionally whizzing by. The yellow lights flickered, moths and gnats flying about their strange glow. The walk back to Nova's place was short, but they made it longer, taking any path less traveled and weaving around the house instead of going to it. Sadly, they reached Nova's house. A few lights were on inside and Nova knew that someone could probably see them but it didn't stop her from going on her tiptoes and kissing him goodbye.

"See you tomorrow," Nova said, both of them grinning.

"Definitely."

Nova went inside, carefully shutting the door behind her. No one was there and if they were, they didn't say anything. Her suspicion of someone watching them kiss was confirmed when she found Simon and Evie sitting on her bed however. Where Hugh was she had no idea.

"So... I take it you two resolved your fight," Simon said, trying to be as casual as possible. His arms were crossed over his chest and he had a stern expression, though Nova knew it meant nothing.

"Yes. What about it?" Nova asked, leaning against the doorway. 

It felt weird to be doing this. It was her room and yet she was in the doorway and they were on her bed. It wasn't that she ever actually used her bed aside from sitting on it. Occasionally she would sleep if Evie was with her or Evie would sleep in her room. Some nights they needed the other around them to be at peace. Still, it was just weird to have what might become an interrogation with the person interrogating you sitting on your bed.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Evie asked, nose scrunching up. As Nova had predicted, she did not want Nova dating. She didn't want to share Nova or any time they had together though she might be persuaded by the fact that a lot of the time, Nova hung out with Adrian anyways so there wouldn't be much change.

"Yeah. I guess he is."

She was doing her best to keep everything casual and light hearted. Evie and her dads were protective of her even though it was just Adrian. It's not like they wouldn't respect her decision, but there would always be a part of them that was scared to let her be anywhere that they weren't and alone with a boy didn't help. But they all knew that Adrian would never lay a finger on her if it bothered her. Georgia had raised him right and the two of them were already best friends. Nothing bad was going to happen.

"Finally," Simon said, stern expression dropping as she broke into a smile. 

"We've been waiting for like a year for this to happen. That means Evie wins the betting pool."

"You guys were betting on this!" Nova exclaimed.

"Well yeah. And I know my sister so I knew I could win if I started a betting pool." Evie grinned and held out her hand, watching in delight as Simon gave her a bunch of coins. Nova could tell it was more about the objects being metal and shiny then having worth.

"Okay everyone out of my room. I want to go to bed."

"You don't sleep," Simon said as he and Evie left.

"You all exhaust me enough that I think for once I can."

They laughed as they shut the door, leaving her to her own devices which was shoving her face on her pillow to muffle her squeal of embarrassment and excitement.

[detectivedreameater]

I’d Like To Mime A Comlpaint|| Cece and Marley

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @thebickedwitchoftherest and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Marley channels her inner!Karen and Cece gets a front row seat. Grab your popcorn.

The main reason Marley found herself back at the carnival was to make sure the mime that she and Anita had run into hadn’t filed a complaint or taken any action. What had happened wasn’t Anita’s fault, and if she needed to do a little intimidation to make sure nothing came of it, she certainly wasn’t above that. She did blackmail people to get information, after all. It was the only way she knew how to make sure supernaturals didn’t run around willy-nilly getting away with things that no one should be able to. It wasn’t so much justice as her just...showing the world that just because they weren’t human didn’t mean they were above the law. Humans were pretty nasty, too-- but mimes were in a whole different category. What she didn’t expect was for her anger to rear its ugly head when she got there, and all she could think about were the walls inside that had closed in on her and the mime that had stalked them through the halls and the pain in her chest as she gasped for breaths. “They should be fired,” she found herself yelling at the only manager that had decided to show up. “I want them fired. They touched a guest and endangered her. I should have them arrested.”

Cece was checking out the carnival again. This place was fucking weird. She was having a blast. She had been vaguely threatened by a few of the game runners, unconvinced she wasn’t leaving the place cursed in some way. Clearly she would be burning some sage tonight. She had a bag of popcorn, making her way towards the ferris wheel when she passed by the fun house. She had no interest in checking the place out personally, but the commotion was enough to draw her attention. She was a sucker for drama after all. She was happy to perch against a tree, munching on her snack and watching the scene unfold until she realized that it was a familiar voice that was yelling. Even worse, the face was familiar too. Marley. The two had chatted around the office, had some friendly banter online. Had some shots at that wild fucking bar mime. She had always seemed laid back, level headed. Not much the type to yell at a person working at a carnival. Apparently, Cece’s impressions had been wrong. She made her way closer to the fun house, poking her head closer to the exchange and stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth, “Always on the clock, huh Detective? Do you ever get tired of threatening to arrest people?”

The manager, true to form, would not speak. He just kept shrugging and miming things at Marley and she could feel her blood boiling. She was about to whip out her badge and force him to talk when she remembered what had happened with Jane when that poor mime girl had talked. Did all mimes explode if they spoke? She...didn’t want to find out. So, instead, she dug through her pocket for a pad for him to write on, but was stopped by a voice to her right. Marley turned her head to look, finding her gaze falling upon Cece. “Bishop?” she said, momentarily surprised. She glanced down to the popcorn in her hands, then back up, frowning in dismay. “What’re you doing-- you know, what? Never mind. And no, I don’t,” she grumbled, turning back only to find the manager scurrying off. She threw up her hands. “Oh, great! Perfect. Thanks for that. Did you know this place employs mimes, too? And that they stalk you through the fun house and think it’s okay to touch you? Because that’s illegal, I’m pretty sure.” 

Marley was clearly pissed, which admittedly was only adding to Cece’s joy. Okay, that sounded mean. But honestly, how else should Cece take Marley screaming at a mime that had nothing to return to her besides vague hand gestures. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be any help. “Figured.” Cece shrugged, unsurprised that Marley seemed to enjoy the idea of arresting people. She also wasn’t shocked to see the miming manager retreating into the fun house to escape for the detective’s rage. “I’m just an innocent bystander! Don’t blame me because you can’t keep your witness under control.” She smiled innocently at her, accepting that this was her new trajectory for the night and bouncing closer to Marley, “I didn’t know that. But I know that the whole touching thing is frowned upon by most people. Even if they’re just miming it.” What exactly was Marley referring to? It wasn’t really Cece’s business, she supposed. “Are you chasing after the manager? Arresting the whole carnival? Can I be your partner in crime? I’ll share popcorn!” She offered, holding the bag out to her.

Bishop always had this...excitement about her. Even in the office or when they’d talked outside of work, there was always something about her that made it hard to stay mad. Marley furrowed her brow, glancing back over her shoulder at where the manager had gone, and folded her arms tightly over her chest. “No,” she muttered, “I’ll come back later with a warrant or something. So he can’t run.” She wasn’t even technically on duty right now, but Cece-- and especially the manager she’d scared off-- didn’t need to know that. Turning to face Cece fully, Marley raised a brow. “You’re not even a cop,” she muttered, looking a little disappointed. She wanted something to take her frustration out on, but she couldn’t find anything within grasp except Cece and she definitely didn’t deserve her anger. She held out her hand for some popcorn. “What’re you doing here, anyway? All by yourself? I thought people only came to carnivals on cheesy dates or with friends to blow off steam.”

For better or worse, the tension seemed to have died down. Cece assumed it was the former, considering she wasn’t convinced Marley was even here on official business. Not that Cece tended to get wrapped up in trivial things like policies or the rules, but she didn’t really need for any scene to break out regarding Marley either. The two may not be super close, but Marley was one of the few at the station with a solid sense of humor. Cece enjoyed having her around the space and she definitely had no interest in that being in jeopardy. “Technically, no. But I’d still make a great partner in crime. I have the CSI sass down. I could make a citizen’s arrest. I’m a triple threat.” Cece poured a handful from her bag of popcorn into Marley’s palm. The teamwork had already started. “I think we’d make a great buddy cop movie. Where I’m not actually a cop but you convince me to apply for the force at the end. Really sets us up for a sequel.” Marley questioned what Cece was doing here by herself, which was a fair question. What had brought Cece back here? “There’s a third reason: boredom. I can’t sit at my house every night. This seemed like as good a place as any. But I could ask you the same question. Did you just show up to interrogate the mimes?”

The twinge in Marley’s side told her that coming here had already been a bad idea, but Cece asking her why made it all the more clear. Munching the popcorn, a snack that Marley didn’t mind too much as long as it wasn’t salty, she thought it over for a moment. Her personal life wasn’t anyone’s business, especially not a coworkers, but it wasn’t that that stopped her from just telling her about what happened with Anita-- it was the idea that Marley had come here to defend someone. And that she’d needed to at all. “I did, in fact,” she finally answered, looking over at Cece from behind her darkened glasses.  “And Zootopia,” she said, “you’re describing Zootopia the movie.” She started walking away after checking over her shoulder one more time to be sure the manager wasn’t coming back. It didn’t matter-- he knew she’d be back. She wasn’t done with him. All he needed was a little dose of fear. She popped some more popcorn in her mouth. “As far as buddy cops go, I’m good, thanks. Though I’ll keep you in mind if I”m ever looking to fill the position.”

There was probably more to the story than Cece knew, but at least Marley had been forthcoming about showing up just to instigate an altercation with some mimes. If this wasn’t official police business, what was Marley doing here getting so worked up over someone being touched by a mime? Reconsidering, Cece realized how gross that sounded and made a mental note to try to never picture mimes touching others ever again. This wasn’t some weird, black and white silent romance set in France back in the 40’s. “First of all, Zootopia is an incredible movie and we should consider ourselves lucky enough to try to fill those shoes.” Cece defended, clapping her hands when Marley turned her down, “Look at that! You’re already doing such a good job! The cop that doesn’t do partners? Fights the partnership in the first half of the movie? We’re really getting somewhere!” By this point, Cece was trying to get under Marley’s skin. There was something about the woman that had always intrigued Cece. A familiarity that the two shared but had not spoken of. Who knew why the people in this town were so hell bent on avoiding friendships. “I have a list of references if you need them. Regan will tell you that I’m annoying but persistent! I also have a personal vendetta against mimes, so I really think we could tag team those assholes here.” 

Regan was right, then. Cece was persistent. And it wasn’t that Marley disliked her, but her skin was still crawling and she still hadn’t slept more than an hour or two a night. While she required less sleep than normal humans, she still needed some, and now she wasn’t getting any. She tensed when Cece clapped, moving quickly down the path, trying to make a beeline for the exit. “I never said it wasn’t,” she mumbled off-hand, before stopping to turn to look back at Cece. “Why are you following me? Shows over, you can go back to watching other people do weird things at the carnival.” She wasn’t sure what else Bishop wanted from her, and she wasn’t sure she was in the mood to try and figure it out. It was apparent Cece was purposefully bothering her, the two got on just fine at work, but she didn’t know why yet and she didn’t have the energy to find out. “You know what? Bring the references in to work tomorrow, I’ll look over them and then happily decline your offer again. Besides, if I were going to choose someone for my buddy cop movie, it’d be Jane. Sorry.”

Marley was leaving, clearly trying to rush away from Cece. Was it because Marley didn’t like Cece? Perhaps it was because she wasn’t on duty and didn’t like talking to coworkers off duty. Technically speaking, they weren’t actually coworkers, an excuse that Regan pulled out of her ass anytime Cece mentioned her dating Kaden. Or maybe, Marley wasn’t a fan of someone catching her having a meltdown against a mime? All valid options, yet none of them were enough to make Cece back off. “I’m not following you, I just happen to be leaving the carnival too. At the same time.” Cece skipped along next to Marley. If nothing else, at least this basically confirmed that Marley was also a big fan of Zootopia. Cece would have to remember that. That’d make a perfect themed birthday party at the station. “Besides, what’s more entertaining than watching someone yell at a mime? Did you expect the guy to respond? I’m not saying mimes are right in the head, but you at least have to respect the self discipline.” Marley offered to turn down her offer again, which was valid. “You know, if anyone’s going to beat me for the role, at least it’s Jane.” Cece shrugged the disappointment off before a lightbulb went off in her brain, “Wait a minute!” She called again hopping forward so that she was in front of Marley, looking back at her, “Let’s rebrand here. I’m thinking Charlie’s Angels. The three of us? The serious detective, reckless but brave police officer and the brilliant scientist? Think of the drama!”

Marley stumbled a little as Cece hopped her way in front of her, surprised by her persistent energy. Rolling her eyes, she stopped, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at her. “Considering last time I interacted with a mime she exploded, I suppose I should’ve expected it,” she muttered in mute agreement, before picking up her pace again, letting Cece take the lead. “No one hears a peep about this, Bishop. Got it?” She could easily stare Cece down into submission, but somehow doing that seemed like the wrong play here. Not that Marley needed or cared if Cece liked her, but getting on her bad side seemed like too much effort to deal with. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “If I agree to that, will you stop asking?” she said. “I could really use a drink. Or five. And frankly going alone sounds too pitiful. I’ll buy the first round if you promise to stop asking.”

Cece paused, “Excuse me, a mime exploded?” Cece considered whether she even wanted the context or not. Eventually she decided it wasn’t worth risking ruining the perfect vision she had in her head of the event, “I really hope that was as cool as it sounds. And not as murdery.” By this point, Cece wasn’t even convinced that the mimes here were normal people. “My lips are sealed detective, just like that mime’s” Cece grinned at Marley, but made the notion of zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. Whether Marley believed it or not, it certainly wasn’t Cece’s prerogative to spread any rumors around the station. Unless the rumor involved Regan being a leprechaun. “You know how to strike a deal, Stryder! I’m in. For a drink, I won’t talk at all if you’d prefer.” Cece lasted about twelve seconds before recanting her previous statement, “Okay that was a lie. But nothing else about pulling a Karen back at the funhouse.”

Marley couldn’t help but roll her eyes again. It seemed to be an often occurrence with Cece, apparently. Not that she minded. Cece had a way about her to break tension. Marley could already feel herself relaxing, though part of it was the fact that they were leaving the carnival behind, ducking out the exit. “It was not cool at all. And I lost my favorite jacket to it,” she sighed, “Rest in peace, red leather jacket with those cute buttons.” Paused for a moment of silence before moving on. “See, now, I would pay to see you try and not talk at all. I don’t think it’s possible for you, honestly.” They made their way down the street to the nearest bar, a little hole in the wall. Marley went to pull open the door, but paused. “But uh-- thanks,” she muttered quickly, “for not saying anything about it.” Then pulled it open and went in. The less she talked about it, the better.

Now Cece was even more intrigued. That was a question for another day, apparently. “Damn. I’ll drink one in memory of your leather jacket.” This was the closest thing Cece needed as proof that mimes in this town weren’t human, right? Unless an actual human mime exploded in front of Marley, in which case she was being far too casual about it. “Ha ha. I’d bet on that if I thought I could win. But unfortunately, I think we both know I’m not capable of that. I talk in my sleep.” She didn’t actually know this, since she was asleep, but it felt like the right thing to add in. Marley clearly didn’t want this going around the station. Cece couldn’t say she knew exactly why, but it wasn’t exactly her business either. She only had interest in involving herself in people’s private life if it was in good nature. “Silence is golden, detective. What else are friends for?” 

[sparklyjojos]

CARNIVAL recaps [7/13]

Today’s recap: JDC J-pop version, the S-detective of two genders, and Dokuson being Dokuson.

--

[PART 2 — CARNIVAL BOX]

--

FOURTEEN

07 Dec 1996 — 13 Dec 1996

OSAKA CASTLE

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It’s funny how fast you can get used to something, BOKU thinks. He’s already got used to his D-name so much that he turns his head when people on the street say the pronoun “boku” in conversations.

Similarly, the world already got used to the Crime Olympics.  Every day four million people die, and yet the world continues to turn. Maybe there’s no other way for humanity to continue than trying not to feel the despair, giving up in a way. Attempting to understand the fear and pain of a tragedy this big could drive anyone insane. Even detectives in books can’t help but get used to murders.

--

BOKU isn’t anything special. He’s had an average upbringing, worked some entry-level jobs, and even now his office work isn’t anything really outstanding. What is he doing in a place like JDC, anyway? As the representative’s assistant? Looking at his reflection in the window—at the scared young man with glasses hiding tired eyes—he wants to run away.

When he turns around to return to his desk, he finds his chair occupied by Yuiga Dokuson. BOKU could swear he didn’t hear him come in. As always, where is Dokuson, there he immediately brings this strange atmosphere as if everything in the world runs according to his will.

Dokuson states that BOKU’s been slacking off. BOKU answers that unlike Dokuson, he’s a regular human being that has to rest sometimes, and he doesn’t have nowhere near Dokuson’s talent either. Dokuson rebutts that talent is not everything, and those who seem to be superhuman geniuses have simply been working more than others (and that he, Dokuson, who of course has the greatest talent of all, is naturally the one working the hardest.) According to him all people are narcissists by virtue of being different from others, and the ones aware of it are the only ones who can really polish their talent (and since Dokuson is the most aware narcissist of all, then of course he is the greatest genius in the world.) Dokuson is sure that he could achieve anything another human can, like getting a gold medal in the Olympics, he just doesn’t care enough to do it.

(BOKU once more has to wonder what he’s even doing here and what on earth is this conversation he’s having.)

BOKU asks if Dokuson also thinks himself the most beautiful in the world—even more beautiful than Tsukumo Juku? Dokuson states that Juku’s beauty is “defective”; after all, what is the most beautiful should not cause harm to others, like making them faint. Besides that, what is considered beautiful changes with time and place, and besides that, right-minded people wouldn’t NOT consider the world’s greatest genius like Dokuson not to also be the most beautiful. And if BOKU doesn’t feel the same, then in Dokuson’s eyes he’s wrong-minded.

(...Well, certainly he is the world’s greatest narcissist, BOKU thinks.)

Dokuson is sure he would solve the Crime Olympics the fastest on earth. But he can’t do it right now, which must mean nobody else can do it, which must mean the case is unsolvable for now… for others than the members of the villainous group, at least.

Dokuson leaves the room, and BOKU wonders for the nth time why he’s still working for this man. He grumbles under his breath sometimes, but still doesn’t quit, and neither does everyone else working in new JDC. Must be Dokuson’s charisma. Whether for good or for bad, JDC has changed under his rule, just like the entire world has changed in the last few months.

--

[And now we enter our first narration change, this one in second person.]

Ever since JDC fell victim to the Billion Killer, the entire country sent them help and presents, touched by the tragedy. Mass media quickly threw together the “JDC Band”, with the artists’ share of money being donated to JDC (though not the recording industry’s share. That’s how the world works.) The band is entirely female, each member dressing up in the style of one of the JDC’s famous detectives:

Vocal — Dark (Ryuuguu Jounosuke)

Guitar — Eve (Christmas Mizuno)

Bass — Lead (Tsukumo Juku)

Drums — Cocktail (Amagi Hyouma)

Keyboard — Manya (Hikimiya Yuuya)

[...they just chose all the young bishonens, didn’t they.]

The band is doing quite well, their single Carnival Eve and first album Carnival climbing to the top of various charts with speed unusual even for the circumstances. All the tickets for their concert at the Osaka Castle Hall on December 7th sold out instantly, but they kept a few spares for VIPs like the members of DOLL.

Of course, you have been waiting for the opportunity to visit your beloved Japan again. You’re quite a fan of the country. And so, you and the girl you’ve met during a case in Italy, Somedaring Amagoi / Ittai-chan, came to Osaka together. Some people in the crowd recognize Amagoi and ask for her signature. You don’t think you’d be recognized anywhere in your own Italy… but then again, it’s not like you’d pull attention to yourself by randomly talking out loud on the street while being a detective. (Though you would do that as a woman.)

“It seems everyone is only paying attention to Ittai,” Amagoi says in her usual third person. “Nobody here really knows you, Meiru-shi, even if you’re one of the seven S-detectives in the world!”

Inspired by Ryuuguu Jounosuke, Amagoi also refers to men using the suffix “-shi” and to women using “-jou”. It’s a weird manner of speech—even weirder because she’s a returnee with a strange way of pronouncing things—but you do appreciate that she properly sees you as a man right now.

Well, she does think that the flowery Genoa folk dress you wore earlier was prettier, but you are in detective mode now, and your clothes have to match.

You and Amagoi take a stroll in the rain and talk. You mentioned earlier that the Osaka Castle Hall reminds you of a giant UFO, but Amagoi thinks that if anything looks like an alien spaceship, it’d be the city’s giant stadium, Osaka Dome.

Walking into the hall you stumble into JDC Band’s vocalist known by fans as “Dark Ryuuguu”, and then take a look at the rehearsal. It’s weird to see these imitators dressed as detectives on the scene, like in one big masquerade—or maybe it’d be better to say it’s a masked “Carnival”, like the name of their first album. It’s quite a strange feeling observing them, like stepping into a parallel world.

Amagoi doesn’t look anything but happy seeing “Dark Ryuuguu”.

“Somedaring,” you ask, “are you not sad about your mentor’s death?”

She is, but she doesn’t believe Jounosuke’s really dead. Nobody would be able to kill a guy that lucky if they tried, she says. Even if the accident definitely happened, Amagoi is sure Jounosuke will come back somehow, especially considering how much weirdness is going on in the Crime Olympics already. She’s more worried about the people that went missing, like Ajiro Souji and recently Jounosuke’s sister Otohime—it’s her disappearance that she asked you to investigate, seeing as you are the world’s best locked room specialist, known as the Locked Empress. (Empress, even though when you’re a detective, you are always a man.)

--

Some time after the concert, at exactly 1 PM, a series of thunderous roars comes from somewhere in the rain, and all of a sudden the Osaka Castle Keep vanishes into thin air. You both break into a dash to to the empty space. The Castle has simply disappeared without a trace, surrounded by crowds. Amagoi thinks this may be a supernatural phenomenon, and not a mystery that could ever be solved.

--

FIFTEEN

14 Dec 1996 — 20 Dec 1996

SKY BUILDING

--

So who the hell even are you, asshole?

—is what Yuiga Dokuson often asks himself.

Where are you going with your life?

And why are you even asking yourself those stupid questions? It could be because of that S-detective you’ve met recently—but no, someone like you surely wouldn’t be influenced by another person. And it’s not like you haven’t been analyzing yourself constantly anyway, scrutinizing yourself at all times, as if you’re stuck in a particularly rude second person narration.

--

As soon as you get the news about the Osaka Castle, you order sleep-deprived BOKU to check the crime scene. You can take over his work no problem, it will only take you fifteen minutes what he would need half a day for, obviously.

A few hours later BOKU returns along with Amagoi and the S-Detective Firannu Meiruneshia, who is wearing a flowery folk dress of Genoa. You welcome Amagoi, who as always refers to you as “Demon Lord” (must be the effect of all those fantasy RPGs she likes), and you observe the other closely.

The explanation you’re given is that Firannu, while a woman, takes on a boy persona during investigations. Not in an actual alternate personality way, but simply performing a fictional role, so that they can look at everything including themselves from a different standpoint—instead of an adult woman, a teenage boy. “Firannu Meiruneshia” is a D-name. They also use a nickname E-Mail, conveying a double meaning: one, they are as quick in reasoning as an e-mail in being sent, and two, it’s a pun on “E [Empty] Meiru”—as in, the detective personality of “Firannu Meiruneshia” is empty, fictional.

A fictional person with a fake name, speaking fake words… Certainly you already noticed something off about them before, their somewhat uneasy atmosphere. Then again, everyone’s personality is in a way “made up”, fluent, influenced by others. Everyone is subconsciously acting out a role of “themselves”.

--

You talk about the disappearance of the Osaka Castle. It had been closed for maintenance for a good while, and boy, did all that taxpayer money just vanish together with all eight stories of the building.

You and Meiru may not understand the solution yet—even the world’s greatest genius won’t solve anything without the necessary data—but you know vaguely what’s going on. (Oh, and even if you call everyone by their first name, you do call them Meiru instead of Firannu; it’s only fair when they call you just by “Dokuson” like you prefer.)

Amagoi notices that the highly suspicious timing of the Osaka Castle repairs could serve to hide the preparations for whatever trick was used, though she can’t explain what that trick was exactly.

--

[...and here would be first person narration from BOKU, but I’m lazy so have this in third person instead.]

BOKU has recently finished reading a crime novel that used the Hanging Gardens of Babylon as a theme, so inspired by this he reads up on the Seven Wonders (the ancient ones as well as several new lists). It is indeed wondrous how human hands could built something like the Wonders. Then again, the ancients were probably used to them the same way that BOKU is considering the English Channel and artificial satellites as a normal part of his world. Maybe the term “Wonders” would apply better to actually unexplained things like UFO or Yeti.

BOKU can’t help but notice that a lot of the entries on various lists of modern “Wonders” match the crime scenes chosen by the Billion Killer. Stonehenge, the Easter Island… perhaps they could predict the future targets by looking at those lists? Hanto Maimu has sadly lost her predictive ability ever since the birth of her daughter, so she can’t help them anymore.

--

On the next Saturday, while BOKU is busy in the office, Ushiwaka Gigolo [which the reader probably forgot existed] comes in and asks where on earth that bastard Dokuson went, because he had promised to meet with her today and yet the office is empty. BOKU has no idea where the guy is either, so they go to search for him together. [And the female employees eye BOKU enviously, because as it was said in Carnival Eve, Ushiwaka really does seem to be popular with the ladies. That’s what happens when you’re bi and your reasoning method relies on flirting and falling in love, I imagine?]

Unusually for her, Ushiwaka isn’t tagging along with Kakuusan Kanke today [bet you forgot about her too], since the latter is apparently in the US with Hyouma for certain reasons. BOKU wonders aloud how Kanke managed to get Hyouma to America despite his horrible sea-sickness and fear of flying, and Ushiwaka’s answer for now is “we have ways”.

Eventually, Dokuson calls BOKU on the phone and tries to get him to go somewhere, but before he can explain more, Ushiwaka snatches the phone and tells Dokuson exactly what she thinks about him breaking promises. BOKU has never heard anyone else be that straightforward with Dokuson. He gets the impression the two have known each other for a long time.

Finally Ushiwaka hangs up and announces cooly that they’re going to meet Dokuson in the Hanging Gardens. Not the Babylon ones, of course, but the Floating Garden Observatory at the rooftop of Umeda Sky Building, a famous landmark in Osaka.

--

On the way, BOKU thinks about how the world for something fictional, 架���, literally means something that’s “overhead”, “suspended in the air”, kinda like the Hanging Gardens seemed to be, well, hanging. The Umeda Sky Building reminds him both of the Gardens and of the alleged Tower of Babel. Come to think of it, the Billion Killer seems to like choosing places that are tall towers or give the visitors the illusion of walking in the air.

They find Dokuson at the rooftop, but just as he starts scolding them for being too late, Ushiwaka slaps him in the face, because he promised to meet her at JDC, dammit! Even someone as composed as Dokuson can’t help but look a little stunned, and in his cool explanations about being Very Busy With Work there’s a hint of deep emotions. (BOKU is now seriously wondering what kinda relation these two have.) Dokuson says that he’s not running away or anything, he’s only here because Amagoi and Meiru wanted to meet up to talk about a new clue. Ushiwaka replies that she’s not going to let this fly, as Dokuson had assured her that no matter what, he wouldn’t break his promise this time, and yet. Thankfully BOKU manages to change the topic to the case before they can really get at each other’s throats.

The three take a walk through the Floating Garden Observatory while Dokuson’s explaining what happened in the last few days. Amagoi and Meiru investigated Ryuuguujou trying to figure out how Otohime could have been kidnapped from a locked room situation. In a strange coincidence, one of Otohime’s bodyguards, Matsuo Meiten, provided them with information about another case. At the very moment the Osaka Castle Keep vanished, he was in the Umeda Sky Building with his family and so had a great view of the surroundings. Just before the inexplicable happened, he noticed something among the clouds above the Castle: a small black shadow… which, taking distance into account, must have been something even bigger than the Castle itself.

Ushiwaka scolds Dokuson for believing Meiru this easily without checking things himself, to which Dokuson answers that oh, he already did check them, who does she take him for, and then BOKU hurries with another question before the two can start arguing again.

Suddenly Dokuson’s phone rings. [His ringtone is the Devilman opening. Even the narration points out that since it’s 1996, Dokuson must have used the ringtone composer thing on his phone to painstakingly input all the notes himself. Amazing.] The ones calling are Meiru and Amagoi, who want them all to meet up in the restaurant on another floor, so the three move towards the rooftop’s exit.

Suddenly the world goes dark, as if something eclipsed the sun. Right above the Sky Building hovers a giant round object. For a moment it seems to get smaller (or ascending?), but then it gets bigger again. And bigger. And bigger...

Only when Dokuson kicks him and yells at him to run, does BOKU come out of shock and dashes after him towards the exit. As they’re running through the building chaos erupts around them, the impact sends debris flying and shakes the entire world. Dokuson is supporting Ushiwaka and screaming at BOKU to move faster, but he can’t possibly go any faster, Ushiwaka is yelling that she can run on her own, everything is chaos and panic. BOKU falls behind, can’t even see where he’s going through his broken glasses, the floor tilts under his feet until he can’t keep his balance and falls down. Something round that’s rolling around hits him in the face. The Billion Killer’s skull. BOKU gets through the tilted escalator tunnel down to the 35th floor, but then the collapsing world rotates again, the tunnel is now a completely vertical deadly fall, and BOKU doesn’t have any strength left to keep himself from sliding towards it—but just as he’s about to plummet to his death, somebody catches him in the last moment possible.

It’s Dokuson. He came back for him.

BOKU can only cry with relief before his body gives up and he loses consciousness.

--

Whatever the object that smashed into the Umeda Sky Building was, it vanished without a trace right afterwards. Witnesses claim it looked like a giant alien spaceship.

Two days later, when Amagoi and Meiru visit a restaurant at the famous Osaka Dome (which apparently has undergone some renovations lately), they learn about a curious thing that happened there on Saturday—a small, highly localized earthquake was registered with the epicenter at the Osaka Dome.

The Osaka Dome, which is distinctly giant and looks like an alien spaceship.

They might not know the exact trick to the Sky Building's destruction yet, but they know with what it was hit.

The case is partially solved, just like Meiru partially solved the mystery behind Otohime’s disappearance—they don’t know what happened, but think that Otohime is safe. Meiru seems to have figured out a lot more, but doesn’t want to share it, so Amagoi asks for at least some hint.

Meiru says that all murders happen in a locked room—the Earth itself, a locked room that nobody can really get out of. Maybe the thing they need is some truly cosmic reasoning.

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]