#so many buttons and levers and PERSPECTIVE

[jester-dragons-aus]

Horror House AU

Hehe Horror House returns(I had found only one piece of paper and I ended up drawing this)

When the world building comes out of nowhere/silly

[WARNING: BLOOD, GORE, BODY HORROR, OVER EXAGGERATED FEATURES, CENTIPEDE, IMPLIED DISMEMBERMENT]

Art and stuff under cut

[Note: certain few, who use VR instead of PC or Console, will be sucked into the game. Those who play with PC or Console will have a body substituted with a mannequin and will not be sucked into the game.]

Basically, the newer you are to The House, the closer you are to being the first person a random player goes against as you don't know much about how the game works. You go against everyone else first before you do this though. You can't leave once you're sucked into the game.

Only one person can play this game at a time, there is only one thing that can play it after all. Don't wear the headset if you don't want to be sucked in.

Pomni goes first! She is the newest member, after all!

You need to keep away from her, may it be by running away or finding things to keep her away from you to keep her away. The farther you are from her, the more she'll need to exert herself to get to you. Once tired out, you figure out a way to get out of the area before she regains her energy again. She will wear herself out completely before she rests, falling to the floor and laying there for a relatively long time to regain her energy.

[Checkpoint]

Imagine Pomni going through everyone else's past this point.

Jax is here and is a force to be reckoned with, atleast from his perspective. He thinks he's gotten better than before.

His area is like a maze of hallways, doors, closets, and at the end, somewhere you can completely escape his area from. He walks through the hallways trying to find you, cracking open the doors of the messed up rooms to check inside(hide behind the doors or under any in-tact bed). He taps the closet doors as he walks past them(don't make any noise, he will open and it will be game over[respawn]). Once you get to the end hall, you will need to run. There are no doors or closets in the end hall, all you have to do is keep running forward until you reach the end. His big size compared to the end hall will make it hard for him to go full speed as he will keep hitting his shoulders and head on the roof. The exit to his 'level' is a door that is slowly going down the entire run through the end hallway, triggered by you, or him, stepping on something at the beginning of the end hall. You must slide under it at the end of the hall to escape. He will run into the door and pound on it in anger, trying to get to you, but it will be for naught as you have already beat his level.

[Checkpoint]

Next, Zooble, the interchangeable and unpredictable. Even if they are predictable with some patterns.

Their area is a large open space with one exit for you to escape. Above hangs many things that will be large objects, bodies and body parts, and scattered around the room are presumably more and random large objects to hide around. They are quite smart and quiet so be sure to listen for anything that could be them, like quiet huffs or half-shuffling steps. How you get out of the area is finding a lever or button or something to drop something heavy onto them without anything falling on yourself or being caught by them. Anything heavy enough falling on them will cause them to break, falling into pieces. Leave through the now opened exit before they put themselves together with whatever pieces they can find. Be fast.

[Checkpoint]

Gangle is next and she's the most timid of the group but don't let that fool you.

You are in a dark room with papers covered in drawings littering the floor and walls. Gangle is curled like a snake somewhere where you can see her but it's just dark enough to where you can't see her face. She will kindly approach you with her comedy mask seemingly glued together and ask you to help her with a drawing or some writing[this won't be important to the main game]. If you don't break her comedy mask, good for you! You got to go free easy! If you did, there is a sad mask underneath in a darker shade than the comedy mask, also seemingly glued together, and the comedy mask is hanging to it with strange threads of something you can't identify. Her sad mask is more "hostile" so to say and she asks you to help her with something else which is more deadly to you. She sobs every time she speaks, shaking while she slithers around. If you survive what she asked of you and don't break her sad mask, good for you! You get to leave with only the trauma of her sad mask! If you survive but break her sad mask... You must run and find something to trap her. Under her sad mask is a distraught and fearful mask that screeches loudly as if in pain once the sad mask was broken, still hanging to that mask with the comedy mask still hanging to it in the same way. Once her sad mask is broken, she slithers into the dark with that for mentioned screech and that is your cue to run and find something to trap her in, like a heavy box or a deep hole in the ground, which there is right in front of the exit with just enough room between the end of the level and the door for you to walk around the hole and leave once she falls in with a perfectly timed side-step.

[Checkpoint]

Ah yes, our beloved blind ragdoll, Ragatha! One of the sweetest!

Once in her domain, it's a lovely, relatively large, store-looking place, with spiderwebs in the corners and dust everywhere as if it isn't cared for despite Ragatha's attempts to clean her area. A small bell, upon entering, will ring and notify her of your presence and she will welcome you with kindness. If you are polite in return, she will help lead you to the exit and open it for you, but she won't be able to come with you. If you treat her rudely, she will turn to violence and try to find you. Be quiet and find the code for the door, tucking around corners silently to avoid her if she comes near. Once you find the code, you must make your way to the door without notifying her where you are even once and avoiding her if she comes near. Once you put the code in to the end door, you can leave the area and continue on your way.

[Checkpoint]

Kinger, the largest but probably the easiest to get past if your quiet, is second to last, everyone!

Do not wake him up. His area is a large fortress made of old, hole filled wood pillars, old, torn blankets and pillows, and partially stone walls. There are many large bugs, mostly centipedes about the size of an average 10 year old, crawling around the area, never crawling into your path for more than a few seconds. Make sure you don't step on them, you don't want to make the king angry. Once you enter this decrepit castle, it is mostly empty aside from this 50 foot long centipede-chess piece curled up and sleeping soundly. If you step on any of the bugs that might crawl in your path or if you touch him even slightly, he will wake up and you can't escape as he kills you[respawn]. Don't step on any of the bugs and don't touch him and you're home free, there's the exit on the complete opposite side of him from the entrance to his impenetrable fortress.

[Checkpoint]

I bet you guys weren't expecting Caine of all people to be the final boss, right? I bet you guessed from Kinger's introduction! Well here he is!

He will never change, no matter who comes and goes before him. He is the owner of this terrifying territory, after all! The ringmaster, if it were a Circus! He stands in the center of a large, dark, dully colored yet very colorful room, inside a ring. This room looks most Circus like, like the inside of a tent. You don't have to defeat Caine, really, just beat his "pets." The abstractions. To those who have been in The House for a long time, they sadly know how these terrifying creatures came to be. Not fully code, but once human like the majority of them were gone mad and lost every bit of their mind! The older beasts are larger than the newer ones, so you can tell who's been there the longest. Unbeknownst to you, Caine is definitely going easy on you, only using the newer abstractions, as they are not very well at their job: ending you. You just have to run past everything and get to the last door, an end for the ones who didn't get sucked into this world, or a void for the ones who did.

[End] [Checkpoint]

OK THATS IT!

I am so sorry that one was so long but I really got sucked into writing this. I hope y'all enjoyed what y'all read if you read it all! I hope some of y'all also saw some references I made to other horror games I like playing or watching, like Doors or Little Nightmares(1+2)!

I really enjoyed writing this but this was all in one sitting, on mobile, and I don't know how to word things right sometimes or even spell some words correctly so some things might look weird. Yes, English is my first language but I am still not good at it despite graduating Highschool last year.

I put more effort into this than any writing assignments I got in school anyways all cuz I had a random paper and drew these goofs again after so long of only being able to draw on mobile.

[doorbell15]

The Evolution of Doorbell Push Buttons: From Functionality to Elegance

Introduction:

The humble doorbell push button has come a long way from its basic functionality as a simple mechanism to alert homeowners of visitors. Over the years, this essential element of home entry systems has undergone significant transformations, blending functionality with design to create a seamless and stylish entry experience. In this article, we’ll explore the evolution of doorbell push buttons, from their inception to the modern, sophisticated designs that adorn homes today.

Historical Perspective:

The concept of the doorbell dates back to the 19th century, with early versions employing mechanical systems that rang a bell when a lever was activated. As technology advanced, so did doorbell mechanisms, eventually transitioning to electric systems. The introduction of electricity not only made doorbells more efficient but also laid the foundation for the incorporation of push buttons.

Functional Advancements:

The basic functionality of a doorbell push button remains unchanged: it serves as a trigger to complete an electrical circuit, signaling the chime or bell to ring inside the house. However, advancements in technology have introduced wireless and smart doorbell systems, eliminating the need for complex wiring and allowing for greater flexibility in installation.

Wireless doorbell push buttons use radio frequency or Wi-Fi signals to communicate with the indoor chime unit. This innovation has simplified installation, making it more accessible for homeowners to upgrade their doorbell systems without the need for professional assistance.

Smart Doorbell Push Buttons:

In recent years, the rise of smart home technology has ushered in a new era for doorbell push buttons. Smart doorbells often feature integrated cameras, microphones, and speakers, allowing homeowners to see and communicate with visitors remotely through a smartphone app. The push button is no longer just a means to announce a visitor’s presence but a gateway to a comprehensive home security system.

Design Aesthetics:

Beyond functionality, doorbell push buttons have become a design statement for many homeowners. Manufacturers now offer a wide array of styles, materials, and finishes to complement various architectural aesthetics. From sleek and modern to classic and ornate, there is a doorbell push button to suit every taste.

Materials like brushed nickel, bronze, and even illuminated options add a touch of sophistication to the entryway. Some designers have taken inspiration from nature, incorporating elements such as floral patterns or animal motifs into the push button design. The result is a fusion of form and function that enhances the overall curb appeal of a home.

Customization and Personalization:

As homeowners seek to express their individuality, customization options for doorbell push buttons have expanded. Some manufacturers offer personalized engraving or allow customers to upload their own designs, transforming the doorbell push button into a unique, personalized feature of the home.

Conclusion:

The doorbell push button, once a utilitarian device, has evolved into a multifaceted element that combines functionality, technology, and design. From wireless systems to smart home integration, and a variety of materials and styles, the doorbell push button has become an integral part of the home’s aesthetic and security. As technology continues to advance, we can expect even more innovations in doorbell design, further enhancing the intersection of form and function at the entryway of our homes.

Article Source: doorbell online

[softichill]

I forgot to mention that Marble Soda made it to my playlist a while back. That is a high honor. Today I bring you A Good Song Never Dies by Saints Motel. Discovered that through animatic. Gonna need to make the playlist something besides my liked videos soon. 'Twould be freeing. In other news we are down Three whole A presses today!!! Pannenkoek and all the lovely A button team is so close to theoretical A limit in SM64. 16 achieved. 13 is the limit they think. I love the dedication these people put forth! If I was a normal person instead of interested in speedrunning I would check out Hollow Knight lore videos. Nope, Grass% and Lever%. I think I'm sold! Meme speedruns are a great contender for getting me interested whilst not knowing what the biscuits I'm seeing. Also PLEASE let me know if you get those insoles, perhaps it's parasocial of me to think of anyone online as a friend, but I get so upset if someone I care about is hurt. My stupid ass thought you had somehow walked longer than seven miles every day for that to happen. Maybe I have a limited perspective but my thought is that a parent would take the cheapest most practical option immediately upon realizing their child is hurt. I Hate being the panicker in a situation. I don't think clearly in passion or crisis.

Oh that's super fun!! And yeah, the many kinds of Speedruns that Hollow Knight has is fun, the one I love/hate the most is Myla% fkdbfjdbfj. Also I am planning on getting insoles soon!!! Just gotta remember to tell my mom hehe. I don't know exactly how many miles I walk a day but I do know it's multiple and my feet are starting to ache even when I'm not using them.

Today's song is Those who Carried On by Ghost!!! It has some pretty morbid metaphores, but I've always really liked it and I've found it fitting for a number of things

[pedersencarpenter47]

Jackpot Journey: The Thrills of Playing Slots

Welcome to the world of slot machines, where excitement and anticipation come together in a whirlwind of spinning reels and flashing lights. Playing slots is a beloved pastime for many, offering a dynamic and thrilling experience that keeps players coming back for more. Whether you're a seasoned pro or a newcomer to the scene, the allure of the slots is hard to resist.

With the simple pull of a lever or push of a button, players are transported into a realm of endless possibilities, where luck and strategy intersect in a dance of chance. The appeal of playing slots lies in its accessibility and versatility, with a wide range of themes, styles, and features to suit every taste. From classic fruit machines to modern video slots, there is a game out there for everyone, promising hours of entertainment and the potential for big wins. So, come along for the journey and discover the thrills that await you in the exciting world of slot gaming.

Types of Slot Machines

There are various types of slot machines that cater to different preferences and gaming styles. One popular type is the traditional three-reel slot machine, reminiscent of classic Vegas-style slots. These machines feature simple gameplay with fewer paylines, making them a great choice for players who enjoy a more straightforward experience.

For those looking for more excitement, video slots are a popular choice. These machines incorporate vibrant graphics, engaging animations, and bonus features that add an extra layer of entertainment to the gameplay. With multiple paylines and diverse themes ranging from adventure to fantasy, video slots offer a wide range of options to keep players entertained.

Progressive slots are another type of slot machine that can offer massive jackpots. These machines are linked together, with a portion of each bet contributing to a growing jackpot. As more players participate, the jackpot continues to increase until a lucky player hits the winning combination and takes home the accumulated prize.

Winning Strategies

When it comes to playing slots, having a winning strategy can significantly enhance your chances of hitting the jackpot. One effective approach is to start by carefully selecting the right slot machine to play on. Look for games with high return-to-player (RTP) percentages and bonus features that can boost your winnings.

Another smart strategy is to manage your bankroll wisely. Set limits on how much you're willing to bet and stick to them. By pacing yourself and avoiding reckless bets, you can prolong your playing time and give yourself more opportunities to score big wins.

Lastly, take advantage of any promotions or bonuses offered by the casino or online platform where you're playing slots. These can provide extra funds to play with, increasing your chances of hitting a lucrative payout. By combining smart game selection, responsible bankroll management, and bonus utilization, you can maximize your slot-playing experience and increase your chances of winning big.

Tips for Responsible Gambling

Remember to set limits before you start playing slots. It's important to establish a budget and stick to it to ensure you don't spend more than you can afford. By setting a limit on both the time you spend playing and the money you're willing to wager, you can enjoy the game responsibly while minimizing the risk of overspending.

lava168 เข้าสู่ระบบ

Another useful tip is to take breaks while playing slots. It's easy to get caught up in the excitement of the game, but stepping away for a moment can help you maintain a clear perspective. Use these breaks to assess your gameplay, evaluate your wins and losses, and decide whether it's time to continue or take a break to prevent impulsive decisions.

Lastly, prioritize enjoyment over winnings when playing slots. While the thrill of hitting the jackpot can be enticing, it's essential to approach slot games with the mindset of having fun rather than solely focusing on monetary gains. By shifting your attention to the entertainment value of the game, you can maintain a healthy relationship with slot playing and ensure a more enjoyable experience overall.

[personalzombie-archive]

who’s bright idea was it to draw space ships?

i hate drawing ship interiors

mistakes have been made

[chocolatequeennk]

Beauty in Darkness

When the Doctor takes Rose to Woman Wept, she helps him see understand that sometimes, beautiful things can come out of darkness. Part of Being to Timelessness

Nine x Rose

For @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas. This is Day 7, cold.

AO3 | FF.NET

“Remember the first time we came here?” Rose murmured, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Right after my dad died?”

The Doctor nodded, scraping his stubbled jaw against her cheek.

[…]

When Rose closed her eyes, she could still hear the Doctor’s voice as he told her the story of Woman Wept, his Northern accent getting stronger with his distress.

“I wished so much that I could do something to make you feel better. I’d been feeling so guilty over my mistake, and you brought me here to put it in perspective. And I—”

“Did what you always do,” the Doctor interrupted. “You pointed out the beauty, when I had been focused on the darkness.”

~Forever and Never Apart, chapter 18

Rose played with a loose thread on the jump seat while the Doctor circled the console, setting the coordinates for their next trip. At least… She snuck a glance at him through her eyelashes. She hoped he was taking them someplace.

The little voice in the back of her head told her she’d deserve it if the Doctor took her home. She’d caused a massive disaster the day before when she’d tried to save her dad’s life. She wouldn’t blame the Doctor if he didn’t trust her to travel with him anymore.

“All right!”

The Doctor’s bright voice cut into Rose’s self-recriminations, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She looked up at him, his hand on the dematerialisation lever.

His smile was softer than usual, more serious maybe, but at least he wasn’t glaring at her. She gave him a weak smile in reply, and the light in his eyes warmed.

“I want to show you something, Rose,” he said, his voice soft.

“All righ’,” she said hesitantly. That didn’t sound like he was taking her home.

He threw the lever, then swung around and grabbed something off the strut. “You’ll want to wear this,” he told her as he tossed it to her.

Rose caught it and shook it out. Her eyebrows went up a little as she slid into the heavy winter coat. Now she was pretty sure they weren’t going to London. It never got cold enough back home for a coat like this.

“All right then, where are we going?” she asked as she joined him by the console.

The ship landed, more softly than she ever remembered before. Rose looked at the still time rotor, then at the door. “Are we actually here?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Yes, my doubting companion. Come on.”

Rose took his hand and let him lead her up the ramp. When he pulled open the door, a gust of frigid wind blew inside. She was immediately grateful for the heavy coat he’d given her.

It looked like they’d landed at dawn or dusk, and it took Rose’s eyes a moment to adjust to the low light. But when they did, she sucked in a breath; they were standing on the edge of a sea of frozen waves.

“Where are we?” she whispered. There was a hush over the surface of the planet that she didn’t want to break.

“This is called Woman Wept,” the Doctor replied, his voice just as quiet.

“Why is it called that?”

“Because when you look at the planet from orbit, the single continent looks like a woman weeping.”

The Doctor stared out at the frozen waves. He had come here twice during the Time War. The first time, he’d been hunting for the mysterious Cult of Skaro. He’d never found them, but at this point, he knew they must be dead.

The quiet beauty of the planet had struck him, and years later, when he’d needed a moment to rest and recharge, he’d set the TARDIS coordinates for Woman Wept once again. The disaster he’d seen here had pushed him one step closer to the Moment when he had ended it all.

“Is that… is that an ocean?” Rose asked.

The Doctor tried not to stiffen, but when Rose started to pull her hand away, he knew he hadn’t succeeded. He tightened his grip on her and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it was,” he said, his voice hoarser than usual. “It was a gorgeous ocean, before… before the Time War.” He laughed bitterly. “That war just sucked all the life and beauty out of everything.”

“What happened?” Rose asked, her voice whisper soft.

“Remember how I told you that in the War, whole planets went missing?” The Doctor closed his eyes, but he could still feel the loss of the star. “Well, it wasn’t just planets. Even stars weren’t safe from the way the war ravaged all of time and space.”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “When I came back the second time, the star was gone. It had been taken, as if it had never existed. And in the absence of any heat, the sea froze in an instant.”

Guilt threatened to overtake the Doctor again. Sometimes he felt guilty for pushing the button, but sometimes, like today, he felt guilty for not doing it sooner. How many other worlds might still exist if he hadn’t been so bloody caught up on doing what was right?

Rose reached out her hand and touched the icy wave on her left. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

The Doctor started. “It’s a planet frozen in a cataclysmic disaster,” he countered.

She looked up at him. “Yeah, but look at it, Doctor. It’s like a gallery of ice sculptures.”

The Doctor shook his head. As he did so, he caught sight of one of the waves. But this time, he saw the swirl of motion caught in the ice, the way the tip of the wave curled down into the finest of icicles.

“See?”

He looked down at Rose, taking in the smile on her face. “Yeah, I suppose.”

A gust of wind whistled through the icy waves, and Rose scooted closer to him, seeking shelter from the cold. The Doctor’s hearts raced as he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close.

The faint light of the nearby stars was all they had to see by. But whereas just ten minutes ago he had only seen the darkness, Rose had taken his hand and gently pointed out the beauty. The beauty in sorrow, the incredible majesty of this tragedy.

He had fallen in love with Rose nearly at first sight. He’d realised it when the Dalek had pointed it out.

But today… He closed his eyes and listened to her single human heart beating in her chest. The sound pieced back together one part of his own battered hearts.

Timelines teased him, but the Doctor refused to look. Instead, he simply begged the universe to be kind to him for once.

Please, don’t ever take her from me.

Even though he didn’t look, one word whispered back across time.

Forever.

[murdersexual]

So about that part II to that LeoPika fic? 👀👀👀

WTF, BOI THIS IS TRASH! Stop torturing me, my writing is t r a s h.

🚨Warning!🚨

-Rated MA.

-Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling and Gun Violence.

-NOT PROOFREAD! (Like I write shit on a tired 3am brain...)

-NICKNAMES: Koi Fish/Fishie/Fishy: Leorio. Smol Ram or whatever else I used: Kurapika.

-Sorry for any potential OOC bullshit- 🤣🤣🤣

-Sorry but not sorry for Melody- 👀😤🤣

Part II: The Whims of Fate:

Melody didn’t know how to feel, her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she saw how fast Leorio was moving. She backed away, now hanging her phone up, she tries to make her escape via the glass door elevator. Her tiny chubby hand desperately clicks onto the up button. Her own heart played a melody of guilt and fear. But that’s what you get when you snitch.

‘I-I gotta get outta here!’

“MELODY!”

The way Leorio’s voice projected echoed across the entirety of the sixth floor. Hearing him yell like that shook her to her core in more than just one way. She drew a shaky breath and her eyes flicker to the angry hazel eyed hunter and back to the elevator that seems to be moving in slow motion.

“Come on... C-Come on!”

Impatience coats her voice as she now stands directly in front of the door.

“I KNOW YOU HEAR ME!! HOW CAN’T YOU?!”

His voice boomed once more, his soft hair now waving over one of his eyes only for him to use his left hand to push it out of the way. Now he’s even more pissed... Why?

Because she ruined his ‘SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKAH’—in other words, his grand entrance.

Yet because she absolutely is f o n d of Kurapika, she’d do anything to protect him. How adorable. Maybe there’s something else that lingers in her actions...

“Why are you here, Leorio?!”

Finally, she projects her voice even though that nervousness is still present. Just as she asks that, Leorio steps in front of her. The elevator clicks open and he takes her by her collar and shoves her into it.

“WHY?!”

Obviously, she avoided the question. He KNEW she knew why he was there otherwise she would’ve given him a friendly greeting and not snitch. Her onyx orbs bore into his icy gaze. She could hear the anger emitting from his heart and she ended up closing her ears and shutting her eyes.

“Be-Because you shouldn’t be here!”

Her answer made him wonder... Yet, he didn’t release her collar. His hold can be compared to that of a death grip.

“Urgh! That ain’t tellin’ me shit! I oughta throw your ass in the fucking fountain for snitching!”

Leorio’s hands are rated E for Everybody. Meaning he WILL absolutely drop a woman off if necessary.

“I... I-! My lips are sealed! Now unhand me!”

The infamous saying that typically gets passed about when classified information is detailed to anyone that’s within a Mafia. Upon hearing that, he roughly shoves her away, the back of her head slightly bouncing off of the elevator railing.

“Ow...”

A hiss of pain left Melody, a glare is given to him as she now reaches inside her tuxedo jacket for her brand new revolver but she stops just as she places her hand on the handle.

“Do it if you’re bad...”

The entire scenario played in her head had she shot him. Her eyes blinked multiple times—seeing her death being played out in several different perspectives. Lowering her head in defeat, she adjusts her fedora and finally tells him...

“8th floor, Roulette Table number 403.”

Huh, does that number ring a damn bell?

Pressing the fancy gold button with the bold number 8 on it, a scoff emits from the fish as he now stands to the side with his eyes forward. Putting his hands in his pockets and standing coolly, he sighs while tapping his foot impatiently.

“Hmph... Ya could’ve just told me that shit from the beginning and I wouldn’t have to damn near rough you up.”

Staring at her shiny black small heeled Oxford tux shoes, she blinks while taking a second to realise that there’s always an easier way to do things. Why didn’t she play it cool? Could she have lied about this? Did her feelings cloud her judgment?

“And that I could’ve but had the circumstances been different? Then by all means. You really... REALLY shouldn’t be here...”

Nothing annoyed him more than to hear those words without no fucking why to follow. Deep down, he believes she’s probably the only one concerned about the type of trouble he’d get himself in. That or maybe there’s a hint of jealousy?

“I will only say this for the simple fact that your heart reflects impatience and curiosity: It’s for your own good. If you get mixed with any of the other families? Who will be there to save you? Nobody.”

A smirk curves onto his face, now recalling how he’s caused a lot of inconvenience on the second floor all the way up. He softly chuckles, his head dropping for a second. The doors chime and open as they reach the eighth floor. Walking out first and turning to face Melody, he gives a shrug before backing away.

“Who’s to say that I haven’t already stirred the whims of fate~?”

Melody’s breath hitches in her throat, her eyes widening only for her to smirk and watch him with softened eyes.

“You’re dressed like a really handsome Devil tonight, that told me enough, Mr. Leorio~”

Looking over his shoulder briefly, he waves his hand.

“Just call me Leorio! But don’t think I’m gonna forget that you’ve snitched! I’m letting you off easy because I gotta conserve energy for this fucker!”

Momentarily, she found herself chasing after that Angel in Disguise. Shaking her head quickly with a soft blush, she clicks the number six and heads back to her post.

‘I always find myself attracted to those with charisma that’s relative to that of the Devil himself~ I must say, had my looks never been deformed, I’m sure I’d play him a melody that even he would have a hard time forgetting.’

The doors closed and she was gone.

Finding himself standing just before the entrance. His hazel gaze softened as he felt some feminine hands reach up to his shoulders.

“Welcome~ Shall I take your coat sire~?”

Glancing behind him, he sees a ginger bunny babe with the sweetest of smiles. He took out his favourite pocketknife and placed it in his blazer’s inner breast-pocket. He already has his wallet and keys in his pants pocket. Slipping out of his heavy winter coat, he carefully hands it to her.

“Hello there~ And why I thank you. You’re too sweet~”

She winks now sauntering away. His eyes instantly found those well rounded and pale ass cheeks of her’s. He gave a nod of approval while reaching for a cup of vodka topped with cranberry. He sips it and stuffs his freehand in his pocket.

‘Hmm...’

“Where should I start~?”

Mischief rang as he asked himself aloud. Proceeding to walk forward, he sees the blue and violet ambience, the music is A1–fun and enticing. Hell, everything all the way down to the alcohol is excellent. His eyes found the slots and just as he did on the second floor, he walks on over and leans over an older man with salt and pepper hair. He appears concentrated...

“Say, excuse me, fine sir?”

Looking to the tall youngster, he tilts his head while taking out his fancy Cuban cigar.

“What is it, Young Buck?”

With a pleasant smile he gently leans down, taking his hand out of his pocket he points to the slot screen.

“Watch the last two reels... Those move faster than the middle ones... Why do you think it’s so hard to hit the jackpot?”

With a smile, the man nods and daps him up. He adjusts his suspenders and pulls the lever.

“Thank you, son! How can I ever repay ya?”

Shaking his head no, Leorio stands straight and chuckles.

“Oh no, there’s no need, it’s what I love to do, especially as a birthday gift to myself.”

Raising both brows at his benevolence, the old man pulls out a wad of cash and calls over some of the Bunnies.

“Well I’ll be damned! Happy Birthday my boy! Ladies! Treat this young man to the finest of drinks, on me, Don Magnifico!”

Two of the girls hook around each of Leorio’s arms, his eyes instantly finding their perked up breasts, he smiles and looks back at him.

“I won’t forget your kindness, Don Magnifico!”

Don Marcelo Magnifico, age 52, standing at 6’2, still maintaining his muscle, he is one of the many Mafia Leaders who aren’t fond of other families. He’s widely known within the Underground community for his foreign cuisine and weapons import. The man has literally built a ‘Little Italy’ within Yorknew. He sees something within Leorio and he hopes to potentially get to him. Maybe he can find him a spot amongst his ranks?

From the sidelines, there are a familiar set of eyes that’s seen the entire exchange. With a dreaded sigh, the usually lax blondie found himself making tracks to the bar. Was his mind truly prepared to deal with the aggro fish?

Partially...

He gives a few taps to one of the ladies, he whispers for her to take his place momentarily at the Roulette Table. With a nod of confidence, she hopples over to take his place. Now Kurapika’s off to meet Leorio at the bar. Caution bells tolled in his head the closer he came and just as their eyes met?

The cheery and flustered face of Leorio’s instantly darkened. His lips wore that angry pout. He took one of the shots down without never taking his eyes off of him. Nearly stopping for a second, those light grey eyes momentarily averted. He could sense that rage...

“Well, well, well... Look what the cat dragged in...”

That came out so dark...

Sitting beside the angry fish is a quietly sighing Kurapika. He leans into his left hand and uses his right to snag a shot glass only to trace the rim of it.

“So what’s the fucking excuse this time? Huh?”

“There are none...”

Taken back by his honesty, those hazel eyes searched around as he hums for he’s in thought.

“Oh that’s fucking funny because I could’ve sworn you were gonna say that ol’ excuse you always say! I was expecting that shit! Did you purposely fucking forget or what?”

The idea of being chewed out never sat well with Kurapika. Most of the time, his words were hitting him in the side of his head. Finally taking that shot down and turning to face him, he scoots closer to the edge of his seat.

“Well, go on...”

He was setting himself up to actually get hit this time around. Perhaps he genuinely saw how hurt Leorio is. Why not give him what he’s always wanted right?

“I would never forget any special occasions and I would never miss anything important... I’m honestly tired. I’m sick of the lies, I’m sick of being the one trying to hold on, I’m sick of fucking trying to be the good fucking friend... At this point, I think I’m being taken for fucking granted and I ain’t got time. I’m here to tell your punk ass that you wanna do shit alone? You wanna be okay on your own? Fine. Fine. FINE! I’m done caring...”

Hearing these words made Kurapika wonder... Is he saying this out of complete anger? Or does he truly mean it? Either way, guilt was going to eat at him. Before he could combat his words, Leorio shook his head no.

“Save your petty fucking apologies... I don’t want them. I don’t need to put up with this shit. I know it’s gonna sound bad but how the fuck are Gon and Killua better fucking friends and their younger than the both of us? Fucking children. Ya hear me? Both of them called me and told me happy birthday and they’re always checking up on me... And what the fuck are you doing? Pretending that none of us exist! So you might as well lose my fucking number. This is the last time I’m gonna ever see that pathetically sheepish face of yours.”

At the moment, the fact that any of this is being said kept anything from conjuring—thoughts, retorts and anything else. That usually stoic face started to finally falter. One of his fears was this happening but he would never come to say it.

“Oh yeah? Don’t think I won’t pass up the opportunity to knock your ass into next week!”

Cracking his knuckles then drawing back his arm, he quickly cocks it, totally not caring that he may get shot, he will land that punch.

Or so he thought...

His fist was caught! Those ombré nails instantly dug into Leorio’s soft flesh. The slightest of hisses had emitted.

“At first I felt bad, but the fact that you had the absolute audacity to question my loyalty made me retract that privilege. All you do is bitch and I don’t want to hear it. You ask too many questions... Questions that if I answer may or may not put you in danger. So sorry if I’m choosing to be distant but given my position, I don’t particularly have as much free will like you do. Am I making excuses? No, I don’t make any and never will... I hate explaining myself... but because you obviously need a frequent fucking reminder, it can’t be helped.”

Leorio felt his eye twitch. He can’t find himself agitated!

“Let me—!”

Holding a finger up with his free hand, those light grey eyes had a faint red glint. But never did they leave those icy hazel ones.

“No, you’ve had your time to speak. One thing that always irritates me is how you up and assume that I don’t fucking care... When I do! So answer me this...”

Those nails pressed further and further into his skin, he even started to bend that fist of his back. Leorio did his best not to flinch.

“What time is it? Because on my watch I have... 10:21...”

Finally releasing his fist and blinking his gaze closed for a second to recenter himself, he leans back into his left hand before slowly looking to him. Leorio saw the claw marks and he couldn’t believe he was bleeding.

“...Meaning that your birthday isn’t over yet... But since you’re here, there’s no need to text nor call... So... Happy Birthday.”

That icy gaze of his warmed up instantly. He looks away for a second, his eyes appearing to search for the words he wanted to say.

“Ahem... I... One thing I’ve hated about your ass is how you gotta explain shit to me like I’m not detail oriented! But it still sounds like you’re making excuses... I don’t care what you say! Despite you didn’t apologise, you’re still giving yourself a fucking gateway to do the same old goofy shit. Time and time again, you don’t know how frustrating it is... Hence why... I just don’t care anymore. Sure, you’ve given me the words I wanted to hear, but it only takes less than a minute to fucking text. And no, I don’t give a fuck about you’re little ‘position’.”

Downing a shot before sliding over his birthday drink in front of him. Leorio rolls his eyes dismissively, now stirring his straw before sipping it.

“Hell I could be Prime Minister for all I give a fuck and it wouldn’t stop me from checking on my friends... Buuuuuttttt I guess I’m the only one who feels like that huh? Oh correction: ‘who FELT like that’...”

In all honesty, what could Kurapika say? Was Leorio really about to give up?

Recognising his silence, that hazel gaze narrows at him. His lip turns up, a look of unimpression decorates his face. He shakes his head in pity.

“Thought so...”

Facing the still upset fishy, the blondie sees his face and wonders how will he cope without seeing or hearing from him again? Slipping out of his chair, he softly chews on his bottom lip while thinking of something that he could do or say... These kinds of situations aren't his strong suit, obviously.

“Before you leave and never come back, there is something I’d like to show you... It’s not that impressive but hopefully it’ll show you that I don’t turn a blind eye to any of your advances.”

Raising an eyebrow, Leorio saw what he thought he’d never see and that’s...

That he’s genuinely afraid of losing him.

🚨🚨🚨

Okay so that’s it for part II. 😞😞😞 I really such at writing. But it’s an escape for my creativity. Hope you guys find it slightly entertaining! Thanks for reading and remember to stay hydrated and wonderful! 🥰

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 3

Ch 3: Planet 

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to Earth we go!

New Selenian Date 3015.4.13

After several months of grueling labor, the Conquistador is finally complete! We’re proud to consider it our magnum opus for now. Of course, taking over Terra will replace it as the crown jewel of our achievements later.

Currently, we’re in the process of loading the vessel with a two-week supply of sustenance. We won’t have to ration food, considering our projected route is only a one-week journey. I imagine we’ll get tired of canned maza pods rather quickly though. It’s nutritious, but the flavor is lacking.

Good riddance to this barren rock. Unlike the spineless, cowardly Selenians, we’re leaving for the right reasons and with an objective in our brilliant minds.

You won’t have to wait much longer, Terra. We’ll be arriving soon enough.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Despite the excitement of leaving behind his old life of a lowly mos on a failing colony, he also felt some unwanted trepidation at leaving Penumbra Lab completely. He wouldn’t have the thrum of the holographic projector under his fingertips, the hidden pathways he traversed to avoid the non-enhanced mos, and most importantly, the sight of Terra through the large, weakening glass windows.

Terra wouldn’t appear as a colorful marble in a black void once he was on the planet. He’d have an entirely new perspective.

Exciting, yet daunting.

There was also the small matter of domination, of course.

“My, somebody’s ready to depart from this miserable rock,” Snowball chuckled, flicking Brain’s ear. It twitched against his will and wrecked his concentration. Did Snowball really think the magnet gun was going to work on its own? Somebody had to keep a constant electromagnetic field going so they wouldn’t have to manually load the canned maza into the ship’s pantry!

Brain batted Snowball’s hand away with the handle of the magnet gun and ignored the reproachful glare he was given. “I’m always ready to depart from miserable rocks, condemned labs, and irritating aisam who can’t keep their hands to themselves,” he said, regaining control of the magnet gun and bringing the last of the canned maza into storage.

“You wound me, Brain.” Snowball clutched his chest with his non-bruised hand. “Your barbed words are tearing me apart from the inside. The internal bleeding is quite agonizing.”  

Brain rolled his eyes at the theatrics, turning the gun off and storing it inside a hidden panel on the wall. There were four similar panels with weapons aboard the Conquistador, courtesy of Snowball. He’d acquired the parts from other labs and cobbled them together in his spare time, much to Brain’s disapproval.

Snowball argued that they needed self-defense measures in case Terrans tried to attack as soon as the Conquistador landed. Brain had created a hypnotizing belt to cover that particular issue, but Snowball didn’t think it was effective enough.

There was a cold gleam in Snowball’s eyes when they had that particular argument. Brain relented because he’d assumed the constant solitude was affecting Snowball’s mind and he’d back to normal soon enough.

However, the normality was still missing.

But he couldn’t dwell on that now. There were many preparations ahead, and he needed to focus.

“We have plenty of maza pods. The overabundance worked to our advantage,” Brain said. “And all important files have been transferred to the Conquistador for our perusal. There isn’t anything else we require, unless you believe we neglected something.”

“You’ve covered the essentials,” Snowball shrugged. “Sadly, I seem to lack…ah, how do you say it—a certain personal attachment to our current location.”

Brain bristled at the mere suggestion of having an attachment to this bleak prison. Terra just happened to be visible from his usual haunts and peripheral vision, and the holographic projector was an extremely useful device, but Snowball clicked his tongue before Brain could protest.

“If you’d allow me to finish, Brain. Penumbra Lab’s stocks of certain items were never replenished after its abandonment. I can’t blame you for being somewhat embittered about it. Rather a confusing paradox, don’t you think?”

“I’m above such pettiness, Snowball,” Brain scowled.

“Of course. I never meant to insinuate such a thing.” Snowball held his hands in what was meant to be a placating gesture, though it was more smug than true appeasement. “Now, while you were busy with the necessities, I took the liberty of leaving a surprise in your private room. I know, I’ve heard the ‘I hate surprises’ spiel a hundred times, but it wouldn’t hurt you to humor me every once in a while.”

“Forgive me for not indulging your odd sense of humor more often,” Brain said dryly, but he allowed Snowball to lead him through the corridor into Brain’s expanded room at the back of the Conquistador.

The door to his quarters automatically slid open as they approached, which Brain was grateful for. Brain expended far too much energy trying to crack open Penumbra’s heavy titanium doors. Motion detector lights illuminated the left, providing just enough light for his work without disrupting the sleeping area on the right. A monitor was linked to the systems in the control room, which would alert him if anything that required his urgent attention cropped up. The earpiece and filter for his transmissions rested on a computer that contained important files related to Terra.

But what really caught his eye were the ten packets of blue, star-shaped seeds on his bed. Brain picked the nearest one up, the seeds crunching against his hand as he thumbed the plastic lining. He hadn’t eaten these since he was a child, though his mind had retained the memory of a sweet flavor mixed in with the blandness of a lab creature’s usual fare.

He popped a seed in his mouth, the sweetness exploding across his palate and reminding him of a bygone time before his enhancements enabled him to recognize the lab for what it was truly was.

“Snowball, how did you find rusuphri?” Brain asked. He’d meant to demand, but his voice sounded more breathless instead, much to his dismay. “Penumbra doesn’t carry these anymore. I’ve searched.”

“Oh, just a chance finding during one of my supply runs to Eclipse,” Snowball replied. “Only the best for a dear friend. Wouldn’t you agree, Brain?”

But Brain’s antennae receptors only sensed cold electricity, and if there was an undercurrent of warm electrons flowing through Snowball’s neurons, it vanished before he could pick up on it. He was used to this sort of output from Snowball though.

Meddling receptors. Brain flicked them out of annoyance, the red orbs bobbing in and out of his vision. He loathed Eclipse Lab. It wasn’t a secret. Snowball must’ve known that his gift could’ve been rejected because of where it came from.

A risky gamble on Snowball’s part, but Brain couldn’t bring himself to hate the rusuphri at all.

He and Snowball had eaten these seeds all the time as children. Before everything became complicated and machinery and silence. Perhaps it was the nostalgia factor, but Brain only felt a rush of gratitude.

“Thank you, Snowball.” Brain held the rusuphri to his chest like a lifeline, unable to stop his lips from quirking up at the corners.  

If Snowball was surprised at the rare show of appreciation, his mask of nonchalance hid it well.

o-o-o-o-o

New Selenian Date 3015.4.14

Snowball and I are departing New Selene at last! We have no reasons that shall keep us from leaving this forsaken abyss!

I will continue sending transmissions from my private quarters on the Conquistador until our triumphant arrival on Terra.

Signing off for now, the Brain.  

o-o-o-o-o

“Thrusters are warming up. A little light on your feet today, Brain?” Snowball smirked as Brain buckled himself into his cushioned seat in the control room. He’d just finished securing his transmission equipment so they wouldn’t float away and accumulate damage. It took him several minutes longer than he would’ve liked since there weren’t many handholds available to keep himself from knocking into the ceiling.

Brain’s patience wore thin from all this disorienting levitation, and he punched the buttons on his side of the control panel to work off his frayed nerves. “Keep practicing and you’ll be a showstopper for comedy night.”

Every lab contained an artificial gravity field to counteract New Selene’s weak pull, which was child’s play to duplicate into the engineering of the Conquistador. It was necessary to disengage the fields for the ship and lab to avoid overworking the engines during departure.

Brain couldn’t wait to get out into space. The Conquistador would operate on autopilot for most of the journey, they’d have their artificial gravity back, and Terra beckoned for them to come and save it from slow-minded ignoramuses. His thoughts were much clearer when his two feet were firmly planted on the ground.

“Oh please. I wouldn’t provide nearly as much entertainment as those simpletons during a Lor Altal.” Snowball wrinkled his nose in disdain, mist trailing from his claws. He pulled a lever and brought the supporting systems online. “Swapping hearts indeed. Bah!”

“Yes. A true disappointment. We won’t ever have the pleasant sight of Selenians exchanging a dripping yellow mass of cardiac tissue with each other,” Brain said.

He kept his tone neutral, but Snowball was too preoccupied with inputting their takeoff trajectory into the computer to notice Brain’s ears and antennae falling limp. Brain was painfully aware of the sensation, how his appendages dangled uselessly, and the nonverbal signs of weakness they screamed to the world.

Lor Altal was an intriguing ritual, purely from a scientific standpoint. How Selenians valued science and discovery, yet held their sentimental stories in high esteem was beyond Brain.  

Hypocrites. They were hypocrites and if Brain had to listen to one more fictional sordid affair between royalty of warring planets...

Well, he could hardly share his opinion on how to improve those particular plotlines with Snowball. He’d believe Brain actually derived enjoyment from those sorry excuses of storytelling.

Brain punched a button with more force than necessary. A gauge flickered to life, signaling that all power was being diverted to the thrusters. The floor trembled, the engine’s roar overwhelming his eardrums.

Snowball bared his sharp teeth in determination, gripping the launch controller at his station with both hands. He made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, and Brain glared back. Abandoning a deserted colony wasn’t something a mos did in a typical day. Brain’s hands nearly slid off his own launch controller, his palms slick with a thin layer of sweat.

This wasn’t a crazy dream. It was reality, the payoff from months of backbreaking labor. Snowball’s salvaging trips provided the materials. Brain’s engineering skills transformed them into a vessel that would carry them beyond the confines of New Selene and into territories unknown.

With the Conquistador as their trusted ship, they would conquer Terra and raise humanity to new heights!

“NOW!” Snowball bellowed.

They yanked the controllers toward their bodies, their heads shoved against the backs of their seats as the thrusters propelled them into the black void above New Selene. For one brief moment, Brain thought his internal organs were being scrambled inside his body, and he was pretty sure his stomach had dropped to lower intestine level and his lungs had somehow taken up residence in his cranium. Snowball wasn’t faring much better, though he was obviously in denial about needing the vomit bag under his seat.

With one final boost, the Conquistador straightened out, Brain and Snowball sliding forward as much as their straps and buckles would allow. Then they were snapped back, and everything went still.

Leaving New Selene orbit. Engage artificial gravity? a program asked.  

“Still…catching my…breath…” Snowball wheezed. His limbs hung off each side of the seat, completely limp from the thrill. He slumped against the headrest, pink eyes wide and tilted to the ceiling. His chest heaved with every quick, frantic breath.

Brain’s throat was far too dry and tight to work properly. With some effort, he reached over and tapped a key, confirming the program’s request.

Artificial gravity engaged.

The weightless feeling vanished, and they sank into the cushions in relief. Brain undid his straps and slid to the edge of his seat, carefully testing his weight on one foot while gripping the chair.

Once he was sure he wasn’t in danger of floating away, he hurried to a side window. New Selene was just a dusty, barren pebble in the distance. Had New Selene truly been that small the entire time? The landscape seemed so endless on the surface.

But there was no use dwelling on it. Their life on New Selene was an artifact of the past.

Ahead of them stood Terra, welcoming and ripe for the taking.

Anticipation flooded through him, and his excitement was so overwhelming that he forgot himself entirely and embraced Snowball. The aisam pawed at Brain’s head in a vain attempt to get him off. But Snowball’s needlelike claws couldn’t pierce through Brain’s newfound sense of purpose.

“I hope you’re amused, Brain,” Snowball muttered. “This bombastic display is ridiculous for any rational being.”

But it was the liveliest electrical current Brain had ever picked from Snowball.  

Later on, Brain would agree with him. Yet they’d accomplished their daring escape together. Now they would achieve the impossible through their combined intellect.

And he let himself revel in the triumph.

o-o-o-o-o

New Selenian Date 3015.4.18

Four days since we’ve left New Selene. We’ve placed the Conquistador in autopilot mode for the most part, though Snowball and I take the helm every few hours to make sure everything’s in order.

The Selenians have plotted many theoretical routes to Terra, and our programs are currently synthesizing that information for the fastest path there.

In less than a week, it will be worth it.  

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Transmissions were easy to complete and send now that the lab’s structure wasn’t here to obstruct his frequencies. True, he’d never received a reply, and the vacuum of space was still a hindrance, but at least he didn’t have to cart his equipment around and hope the non-enhanced mos left him alone.

From the information he’d gathered about Terra, transmissions would be even simpler on the planet’s surface. An atmosphere composed of a mixture of gases would enable sound to carry without the need for a voice-to-radio-wave filter. Communication mediums that sent messages in the blink of an eye.

He was feeling generous enough to give credit to the Selenians. They selected their topics of study well.

The door opened as Brain secured his equipment to the floor. Snowball strolled in, helping himself to several rusuphri seeds and snacking on them while he skimmed over the file left open on Brain’s computer.

“Research going well, I presume?” Snowball asked. He clicked through the pictures of various Terran landmarks and surrounding areas from a satellite’s view. “Huh. Are we sure there’s no official authority in charge of the entire planet? These images are incredibly thorough.”

“Perhaps if you’d knock first and not touch my things, I’d be more inclined to share my findings,” Brain scowled. He was willing to let the rusuprhi slide because Snowball put in the effort to locate it, but Brain had been reviewing the images of a structure aptly named the Great Wall of China and he didn’t appreciate losing his place.

Snowball pouted. “Come now. Is that any way to treat your colleagues, Brain?”

“If they pride themselves on being a nuisance, then yes.” Brain shoved Snowball aside, then held down the arrow key until he found the number of the image he’d been on. “Now, if you’re finished being an irritating scrik, I might be willing to share some details.”

“Oh, alright,” Snowball sighed. “But if any of this involves locating precious metals for certain accessories…“

Brain minimized the satellite image and brought up a surveillance report on the Terran global structure. He held a preference towards this particular author, since she had the most useful information by far. Her coworkers only put in the bare minimum, which consisted of observations about shiny buildings and how colorful everything appeared.  

Selenians had low standards for scientist qualifications.  

“According to this report, there isn’t a formal power invested in any particular being or organization for authority on the entire world, but Terra is divided into many countries and territories with complex local and international political structures. Some areas have more land, resources, or people, which leads them into conflicts with others.”

“And what about this…Google?” Snowball’s brow furrowed at being forced to say an unfamiliar, nonsensical word. “I’ve seen that name on many of the images you’ve found.”

“A major corporation,” Brain replied. “They have considerable influence in Terran politics and communications, including surveillance.”

He scrolled the report, skipping over the sections about various affiliates. Snowball’s eyes darted back and forth, gleaming with interest.

“Technology capable of reading one’s mind in their own homes,” Snowball mused after reading through a section that outlined other forms of Google’s technology. “How fascinating.”

“If such speculation is true, it’s creepy and a complete invasion of privacy,” Brain retorted, shuddering at the mere idea of his thoughts being broadcasted with just the push of a button. “Terrans are not only squandering their potential, they’re also using it for sinister purposes.”

“It’s a resource. If it’s there, it’s beneficial to us,” Snowball said with a long-suffering expression, like he was explaining a basic addition problem. His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you regret our little voyage, Brain?”

Brain hated the condescension. He wasn’t a child tottering around on unsteady legs. And his name seemed like an oxymoron whenever Snowball pronounced it.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Snowball,” Brain growled, pacing around the room and making his displeasure known with every step, “I spent many sleepless nights pondering, researching, and building. This vessel was built out of dedication to our goal. I want to rule Terra just as much as you, and I refuse to let my effort be wasted!”

Brain pounded the wall with his fist to emphasize his point, a strange, hollow clang echoing from the section he struck. Just to be sure he wasn’t hearing things, he gave it another experimental knock. Then he noticed the thin, rectangular lines indented in the wall that indicated a hidden panel, one that wasn’t accounted for in the blueprints.

Brain pushed the panel aside, revealing a green blaster strapped to the inside wall. Its yellow handle was polished, and the trigger invited any weapon enthusiast to give it a test run. The sleek design promised swift and deadly force, the barrel spiraling into two sharp, triangular points with a red plasma knob in the center to focus its threatening beams on anyone foolish enough to be on the receiving end.

The blaster was small, but that only meant its power was concentrated tenfold.

Several orange plasma cartridges laid underneath the weapon, the fluids swishing lazily in their containers as if they weren’t waiting to be loaded.

“Why?” Brain asked, his mouth dry.

While his mind struggled to process the plasma blaster’s existence, Snowball sauntered up to him, hands clasped behind his back while he awaited Brain’s judgment.

“Your counterarguments aren’t rooted in logic, Brain,” Snowball explained with that condescending patience Brain hated so much. “We have to be prepared to conquer through force if necessary. Or suppose we need to defend ourselves? If a Terran attempts to kill you, do you truly think asking nicely will convince them otherwise?”

“How naïve do you believe me to be?” Brain snapped. “I told you before that a hypnotizing belt will suit our purposes just fine. You underestimate the power of suggestion.”

Snowball jabbed a claw into Brain’s chest. He stumbled back as white mist coated Snowball’s claw and left spiraling trails of frost across Brain’s jumpsuit, its insulation doing nothing to stop the chill creeping through his body.

“I believe you are being so incredibly, foolishly naïve,” Snowball growled. Brain tried to look Snowball in the eye and challenge him back, but his receptors were numb and the electron current was frigid. “Suggestion won’t guarantee results.”

It felt wrong. Movement generated heat. It was a basic principle of science. But Snowball’s electrons were sluggish even though his neurons were always firing with new ideas and cold where they should be warm.

“You self-sabotage your desires with your burdening attachments.” Snowball’s pink eyes narrowed. “I’m only trying to help you overcome that weakness. Why can’t you understand that?”

Brain latched onto that tiny amount of heat in the current. Enough fuel to burn away the cold, enough outrage at the implied lack of comprehension to break free of his daze.  

“I have no want or need for your so-called help, Snowball!” Brain snarled, slapping Snowball’s hand away. A chill shot through Brain’s palm, but he gritted his teeth and bore the pain as best he could. “If you have nothing remotely intelligent to contribute, then leave!”

Snowball’s face became an impassive mask.

“Very well, Brain,” he said with no inflection in his voice. He turned on his heel and walked out.

And Brain was left alone with the lingering frost, the blaster, and several packages of rusuphri that no longer tasted as sweet as they once did.

o-o-o-o-o

New Selenian Date 3015.4.21

Though our voyage through space was more volatile than I expected, we’ve successfully approached Terra’s exosphere. Under other circumstances, it would be cause for celebration, but…

Well, Snowball has only spoken to me for essentials during the past few days. Usually so he can update me while he raids the pantry for maza or to catch up on sleep.

Our argument has only served as a reminder that we’re not…as united in our mutual goal as much I want to believe.

It must the length of the journey. Access to only four rooms in a one week period can give anyone a serious case of cabin fever. He’ll get better once we land on Terra’s surface, I’m sure.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terra was absolutely impressive up close. Long white swirls decorated the blue oceans and greenish-brown continents far below, and Brain committed the sight to his memory forever. On New Selene, Terra was just a strange marble floating in a dark abyss. Not even the only marble. Just one of billions of celestial bodies out there.

And it would soon be their world to rule, to mold, to improve.

Selenian files claimed that Terra had explored more of space than the depths of their own planet, and since Terra hadn’t progressed far enough to send humans past the moon, then that lack of drive to discover was something Brain sorely needed to fix.

“Are you seeing this, Snowball?” Brain asked, pressing himself up to the window so he could drink in the wonderful view surrounding them.

But Snowball only yawned without bothering to stifle it. Then he typed commands into a computer, only looking up to watch a satellite drift past the Conquistador.

Brain saw his reflection’s ears droop. Scowling, he reached over his shoulder and tugged his left ear up, holding it in place until it stayed upright. He looked ridiculous, but the only one who could take notice never said anything, not even a sarcastic quip.

Terra-gazing suddenly didn’t hold much appeal anymore.

Sighing, Brain shuffled over to his computer and brought up a program that would chart a landing course for them. The program locked onto their current position, somewhere above a continent called North America. Brain only tapped keys when a command prompt appeared, finding it difficult to concentrate on where they’d end up landing, but he quickly sat up and shook himself out of his stupor.

If he wasn’t careful, he could send them plunging straight into the depths of Ohio. Before the colony’s abandonment, some hapless sociologist in Zenith Lab went stir-crazy from being assigned Ohio for a research thesis. After that, he became the topic of all conversations after his little stunt with the maza can and screwdriver was recorded for all of New Selene’s viewing pleasure. Brain had no desire to end up like that poor sap.

So he typed away, flicking his left wrist to get rid of the cramping sensation that was starting to build up. Coordinates, relative position, and preferred angle of descent all factored in to selecting their destination. He inputted the numbers he’d memorized back in Penumbra, hit enter, and let the program do the rest of the work.

It would take several minutes to run the numbers and configure the best trajectory, so Brain reclined in his chair and watched Terra while he waited.

Funny how the planet appealed to him again after he’d finally turned his attention elsewhere. He just couldn’t stay away from its ethereal glow.

“Brain.”

Brain startled at the sound of his name. It had been a while since Snowball pronounced it without a sneer. Snowball approached, casually slinging an arm across the back of Brain’s chair as green slowly inched across the progress bar on the computer.

“You’ve been working,” Snowball said.

Short sentences were better than nothing. But even so, the obvious didn’t need to be stated.  

“Really? What gave it away?” Brain asked.

Snowball glanced at the ceiling and tapped his chin, taking his sweet time to voice his opinions.

“Consider it a hunch. I couldn’t help but notice that you appear a little…as they say, down.” Snowball put his hand against his large cranium, then let his hand hover an inch above Brain’s head, flattening his antennae. Sadly, antennae didn’t count in accurate measurements of height.

Brain scoffed. “You have a keen sense of observation, Snowball. As anyone with half a retina can see, I’m one of those unfortunate organisms without a genetic makeup that favors height.”

“Yes, that does seem to be a…small issue,” Snowball smirked at his own joke, and Brain buried his face in his hands. Being poached and experimented on wasn’t terrible enough for the universe.

Whoever was in charge of the place just had to torture him with a terrible comedian for a companion too.

Brain hit a key in rapid succession as if it would make the progress bar fill any faster. “Are you going to do something productive or do you still insist on tormenting me for your own amusement?”

Snowball glanced at the computer. The progress bar had been halfway filled with green for the past two minutes, with no signs of progression in the foreseeable future.

“We’ve made it, Brain,” Snowball declared. “Soon Terra shall have our names emblazoned on golden banners everywhere.”

Golden banners. Parades in their honor. People bowing for miles and miles as far as the eye could see.  

For such a grand vision, their arrival appeared rather lackluster.  

“I was expecting this to be the grandest moment of our lives,” Brain admitted. “Yet nobody’s responded to my transmissions, and our journey was spent flitting between controlling the ship and taking care of necessary functions for life. It’s rather underwhelming.”

“Yes, there does seem to be a certain lack of fanfare,” Snowball mused. “But who said we couldn’t add a little flair of our own?”

Brain shrugged, dragging his hands down his face when the progress bar halted yet again. “Depends on your idea of flair. We never packed materials to host our own welcome party.”

“Perhaps not. But moments of imminent triumph demand food consumption. Unless you couldn’t resist the allure of delicious rusuphri, of course. We should have some before making contact with the surface,” Snowball said, poking Brain’s stomach.

“It’s rude to comment on a mos’s weight, Snowball,” Brain muttered, pushing the aisam away so he had room to stand up. “But partaking in a victorious toast with rusuphri just before we begin our descent is not without merit.”

“All of my ideas have merit,” Snowball said, following Brain to the door. Snowball waved his paw near the motion sensor, the door opening with a pneumatic hiss. There was little point to chivalry when it came to advanced technology though. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Brain. I’m rather famished.”

Brain shook his head as he stepped into the corridor. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be feeble and emaciated in the three minutes it’ll take me to retrieve a packet.”

Snowball only smiled in response, like he found starvation amusing. Then he sat in Brain’s chair, the door closing before Brain could yell at him to get out.

Resigned to having his designated spot occupied, Brain walked past the pantry and Snowball’s room, the latter only used for the bare essentials. After a week of limited accommodations, Brain would never again question the luxury of wide open spaces.

Once he got to his room, he dug the packets out from between the wall and his bed.

He didn’t tell Snowball that he’d only eaten two packets of rusuphri during their entire journey and left the rest untouched. The treat had become tainted after their argument, and the usual sweet flavor just hadn’t been there. Maza didn’t taste like anything, so he had to live with the lack of stimulation for his taste buds over the past few days.

As a test, he crunched one of the blue seeds between his teeth, and the sweetness coated his tongue once more.

The perfect treat for their victory.

Clutching the open packet to his chest, Brain rushed to the door, remembering belatedly that he should at least try to conduct himself with a dignity befitting a world emperor and-

He slammed into the door.

The impact left him seeing stars, and he shook his head to rid himself of the dizziness. Then he kicked it, but he was forced to abandon that after a few strikes because his heel began to throb.

It was automatic. If there had been an issue with the Selenian design for automatic doors, he would’ve caught it long before this point.

“Useless hunk of metalloids and wires,” Brain growled at the door, like it had emotions to hurt.

The lights flickered once, twice, then shut off completely, bathing the entire room in darkness. And while Terra was still visible from his small window, its azure glow only lit the window and two feet beyond that. Not nearly enough.

Clutching the packet of rusuphri to his chest, Brain hurried over to the monitor, his heart pounding wildly out of his chest.

He hadn’t come this far, spent months toiling on this project, just to succumb to a poorly timed malfunction!

Brain smacked the monitor with his palm, the screen refusing to display anything.

“Snowball!” Brain shouted. “Snowball, answer this instant! This blackout has caused our automated system to trap me in my room!”

He banged on several keys, in case there was an off-chance that audio still went through.

His channel wasn’t reaching its destination.

Snowball was still in the control room. Was their alert system for mechanical trouble still online? Was their main source of power breaking down?

This was impossible. They were destined to rule Terra. That dream had driven them through many hard nights, arguments, and impasses.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a mighty king someday? Why are you so afraid, Brain?”  

Whether it was Snowball or his own voice taunting him for cowardice, he didn’t know. But he was going to prove it wrong.

The walls creaked ominously.

The orbs on his tail and antennae vibrated with nervous kinetic energy, distracting him until every last thread of logic slipped through his fingers. Brain dropped the packet, and the seeds scattered across the floor.

“Snowball?” he called, trying to sound demanding, but his voice came out weak and tiny instead.

Then he remembered the blaster he’d been so insistent on not using. Well, he wouldn’t be using it for the purpose Snowball intended, but he didn’t have many options.

Brain’s trembling fingers couldn’t grasp the panel without sliding off, and it took him several tries before he was able to shove it aside.

Focus. Load the cartridge. Shoot door. Escape room. Check controls. Find Snowball.

Brain chanted his mental checklist over and over in his mind, his hands missing the blaster’s handle as he tried to tug it free from its secure position.

There were straps. He needed to unstrap it from the wall first.

The prospect of failing was causing him to lose concentration.

He was going to lose his opportunity to rule Terra. He was going to lose the vessel he’d toiled to build.

And he was going to lose Snowball.

While they’d had plenty of disagreements, Snowball was the only companion he’d ever known. Even if Snowball wasn’t always there to be a companion with how often he traversed New Selene.

No, he wouldn’t lose Snowball to some inopportune mechanical issue.

They would be crowned co-emperors, attach their names to major establishments, let their legacies be renowned for centuries after their inevitable deaths!

With that vision spurring him forth, he undid the straps of the blaster and pulled it free, snagging a plasma cartridge with his other hand.

The Conquistador jolted.

Thrown off-balance, the cartridge slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor, orange liquid and metal shards pooling around his feet. Brain took a step back in an attempt to right himself, crying out as a particularly sharp piece of metal cut into the sole of his right foot. He was lucky it didn’t go in all the way, his jumpsuit mitigating some of the damage, but it stung fiercely whenever he tried to move.

Outside the window, colorful Terra swallowed the black void of space. Then he was thrown against the ceiling, the metallic roof hot against his back.

Brain tried to peel himself off, but his energy was spent just trying to avoid the unsecured shards and turning his head so the plasma didn’t splash against his mouth. The blaster and rusuprhi seeds bounced uncontrollably against the monitors, his body, and the walls.

If panic hadn’t overtaken his intelligence, he might’ve remembered that the paneling was fortified to prevent them from burning up in Terra’s atmosphere.

His mind claimed otherwise.  

Here lies a mos from the dilapidated colony of New Selene, intelligence and the natural properties of his species enhanced by the so-called greatest scientific minds of the century. Burning in Terra’s atmosphere to follow a grandiose dream.

If some miracle allowed his charred body to crash into the surface, perhaps someone would find the ship and his cadaver inside.

Ha. His body oh-so generously donated to science after his death without his opinion factored into the matter as it had in life. How was that for poetic injustice?

Another jolt. A sudden pitch to the left.

Falling.

A three-ounce mos falls at the rate of Terran terminal velocity from a height of six thousand miles. Calculate the rate at which his failure to achieve anything worthwhile plummets into the planet’s surface.

Just like a quantum physics equation. Brain almost laughed. A weak, rueful laugh was all he was capable of producing.

It might’ve been an eternity. Or eighteen hours. Or just a few milliseconds.

One more plunge. The metal shrieked and groaned as it impacted something solid and immovable.

Brain tumbled to the ground, pain shooting through his foot when he smacked it against the unsecured bedframe.

The blaster rolled to a stop against his left hand. The seeds stilled. The walls fell silent.

Brain gasped and caught his breath, his heartbeat roaring loudly in his ears. He tried to stand, but his back was uncomfortably hot and he couldn’t bear weight on his right foot without the harsh sting, and he was forced to lay on his stomach so the pain didn’t become completely unbearable.

He wondered if Snowball had made it out unscathed.  

That was his last coherent thought before darkness crowded his vision.

AN: Brain. You’re extending the word count with your angst.

Oops. I’m sorry Brain. I love you I swear. Why doesn’t he believe me, guys?

Rusuphri: Sweet blue star-shaped seeds. 

Lor Altal: Literal translation-sharing hearts. Oral storytelling between Selenians. 

This chapter was a doozy. The first two were short just cause I was introducing everyone. Idk if they’re all going to be this long. I’m not aiming for word count here. They’re as long as they need to be.

[malicerewatchesdoctorwho]

The Macra Terror - Episode Four

Written By - Ian Stuart Black   Director - John Davies   Producer - Innes Lloyd   Animation Director - Charles Norton   Animation Producers - Paul Hembury and Rebecca Richmond

Episode Four

("That doesn't sound like a man in control." - Ben to the others in the Pilot's room about the voice of the Controller sounding like it is losing control of the situation.)

Likes

- Macra falling from the ceiling is the most terrifying thing.  Seriously, imagine giant crabs dropping from the ceiling.  Nope.  Nice little scene there at the beginning.

- The Doctor screwing things up.  He really can't help but push buttons when he sees them, can he?  Or dials and levers in this case.  He sees something that is in one position, he puts it in another.

- Jamie just smacking the hell out of the Macra claw that is around him with a plank he picked up. Good going Jamie.  Don't be the damsel again XD

- Polly and the Doctor having more strength in their fear over being caught then the two guards who are likely bigger and stronger than them banging on the other side of the door. Nice. 

- The Doctor taking Polly's hand as they go towards where the pipes lead.  That's a nice little scene with the Doctor comforting her from being afraid.

- This really shouldn't be a like, but screw it.  Jamie cannot win, can he? He finally got oxygen instead of poison gas, and now he's getting the poison again.

- The total mood shift between Jamie being in danger and being smart by using the lift to get the heck out of there, to the choir cheerleading squad practicing propaganda songs.  Oh man, I loved that. 

- Two words: Highland Fling.  Jamie is owning it in this episode.  I am so proud of him.

- The Doctor having very good hearing.  We hear the voices, the Doctor hears the voices, but Polly doesn't.

- The Pilot taking that leap of faith and disobeying the Controller to find out what the Doctor has to show him. That was nice.

- Ben getting out of the hypnosis in time to destroy the Macra and save his friends. 

- The Doctor only wanting to leave the place, and as fast as possible when Ben told him that the Colony wanted to make the Doctor the next Pilot and have him in charge.   hahahaha!  

Dislikes

- Why did Polly take the keys to the door to lock it, stare at the door, NOT lock it, go back to the Doctor and ask a question and then go back to lock the door after that?  Girl why didn't you lock it the first time you were there then ask your question?

- Why did Officia have a spanner? Dude, all the Doctor did was change dials and knobs on the control panel and turn some levers for the gas and oxygen.  What the heck was he supposed to be fixing?  Did the Doctor tighten them so hard Officia couldn't move them on his own or something?  I hate when people do that...

- Argh, happens with Ben this time.  Hiding on a place that is full of holes and easily seen through even if it is higher up than the people on the ground, is NOT a hiding place.  Especially for someone on the other side of the room.

- Pretty sure that the gas should have killed them in the mines last episode, especially Jamie, since he was in it without his gas mask for so long.  How is he still alive?  Pretty sure he was in there for longer than 4 minutes....

Awesome

- We get a much better look of the control room.  It looks very nice and I wish we got to see this in its original moving form. 

- That set for the piping room which is full of them.  The pumping station I think.  That looks awesome.  I wonder how well the room would have turned out, if at all with that light shining in the original.

Shitty

- The sudden shifts in perspective from Jamie fighting for his life in the mines, to the colony up top at night just wandering around their flats.   I'd get it if it went straight to the Doctor and Polly or Ben and the Pilot, but nope.  Outside shot of the colony.

In Conclusion

Nice ending!  I really enjoyed this episode.  Jamie got a lot to do, Ben got out of his control, Polly got scared but still went on even though she wanted to stay behind, The Doctor, as always is a bundle of fun and chaos.  This one was great for all of Team TARDIS.

And the Pilot.  I really liked how the pilot decided to go see for himself and found out the truth.  I liked him from episode one, but I didn't remember him doing this. I thought he was going to be like Ola.  Glad to not be right there.  Seriously it's been so long since the last time I have seen these, I don't remember much anymore and it is so fun!

Body count - All the Macra.  I have no idea how many they were, so genocide of a species. 

The Macra Terror as a Whole

I really enjoyed this story!  It's fun, animated so we can get more enjoyment from it than the recons, and it is a coloured version for those who go for that (I totally do, though will watch the black and while version soon just to see the difference.

This one had things for all the team to do.  Jamie, who was left behind a lot in the last few serials, shines in this one, especially in that last episode, with how much he does on his own without the others. But Polly and Ben have their own little stories going on too.  And the Doctor is just so great.  I love Two. He is so fun and chaotic. 

Also, Ben just committed genocide.  He killed the Macra by upping the gauges, which caused the pressure to go higher than they could stand.  Too much and they all went boom.  He is the first out of this lot, beside the Doctor of course, to do this.  Ben is way ahead not only in single kills, but now he has that on his name in the kill count too. 

For those new here, yes, I keep a Team TARDIS kill count and post it at the end of each season. Enjoy.  So far all of them, including Polly, have kills to their name. Hell, Susan got a point at one stage if i remember right.

[dailyaudiobible]

09/17/2020 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 25:1-28:13, Galatians 3:10-22, Psalms 61:1-8, Proverbs 23:17-18

Today is September 17th welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great to be here with you today just like it is great to be here with you any day. It is a great to be alive upon the earth no matter how crazy things get upon the earth. The life breath of our Father is within us. We are here. Our ears are open, and we invite the Holy Spirit to speak through the word of God as we do every day. And, so, let's dive in. We’re reading from the English Standard Version this week. Isaiah chapter 25 verse 1 through 28 verse 13.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in the book of Galatians, the letter to the Galatians from what we read today we…we arrive at justification by faith. And that's a theological term for sure. And…I mean…you know our eyes can glaze over with theological concepts easy enough. I like them…I love them actually, but it's easy enough to…that it becomes cliché - justification through faith. But what is the essence here? And…and we’ve been talking about how Paul was controversial and we’ve even been kind of putting ourselves in the position of his hearers to understand like how complex and how difficult it would've been for them to embrace what Paul is saying and why they thought he was a heretic, but we should understand that this could not have been an easy road for Paul. We met Paul when his name was Saul and when we met him he was persecuting people who believed in Jesus trying to stamp this message out, even being present at the first…the first recorded martyrdom, that of Stephen, where Saul’s there holding everybody's cloak while they’re killing, like throwing rocks at Stephen until he dies, which cannot be a good way to go. Paulk’s on his way to Damascus to continue the same, right, when he meet…when he meets Jesus. And, so, you can only imagine like the complete rewiring of a whole system that you have given your life to, the just…the complete disruption of it all for Paul so that he has to go and just really examine what it is he believes as it's being revealed by Jesus. And, so, we can see why Paul would start at the beginning with Abraham and move forward. And we can see why things would start to click for Paul, once he does that because he begins to realize there isn't any action, there isn't any kind of obedience to a certain rule or set of rituals that is gonna make us righteous before God. Maybe if somebody could actually live into those things, maybe God is saying, “okay, if you can do all this then you can be righteous, but nobody can, nobody could. So, that can't be the endgame.” So, Paul goes back to the beginning of the story, he goes back to Abraham, he finds out Abraham believed and that belief, that faith in God and what God had said, that trust in the experience that he had had, that this was real and wasn’t gonna be stolen from him, that God had spoken to him, and he believed it, that was counted to him as righteousness. And righteousness was Paul’s goal. That's why he was such a strict Pharisee. That's what they were trying to do, obey the law and be made righteous before God ultimately. So, Paul’s like, “hang on”, basically, “hang on. Abraham didn't have a law to obey and he still was made righteous before God.” In fact, and as we read in our reading today, “the law didn't come for 430 more years. So, what about all those people? Like were they able to be made righteous through faith in God? Because that was the only way. There was no rituals, there was no system of organization…organizing the people around something. They believed and were made righteous. This is the origin of justification by faith.” And, so, then, having that laid out, having that perspective unpacked, then Paul says, and I quote him, “is the law then contrary to the promises of God? Certainly not! For if a law had been given that could give life, then righteousness would indeed be by the law. But the Scripture imprisoned everything under sin so that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe.” It's back to his original, his…his constant argument. The law shows you that you are impossibly separated from God and dying that way unless you can achieve it, like unless you can live a perfectly. But you can't and Abraham didn't either. He believed. He believed. He trusted God. And, so, for Paul, he’s like “that's all we have to do here. Like, that's the long and short of it. We have to believe and allow that belief to transform us because we are experiencing the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is transforming us from within and leading us forward into life.” I mean we could just…you know…put an exclamation point there or whatever, and just go, “there, that's the story, like that's what he’s saying”, because that is what he’s saying. We just have to acknowledge based on all of the back story that we have…that we've entered into is that, as good of news as this was it was like too good, right? Like too good, too simple. Like “really, that's it. I believe and then I die, and I’m resurrected, and I relax. I…I…I fall into the soft pillow of grace and I am then enveloped by the arms of the one that I can now call Father, Abba, God, the God that I'm so afraid of, that I'm following all of the rituals to try to…to try to stay on His good side. The hoops that I'm jumping through, the levers that I'm pulling, the recipes that I'm building, the stew of my life that I'm trying…trying to whip up, all of that's not gonna get me there, like that doesn't do anything? All I have to do is believe and let God transform me?” That is good news friends. That is the good news. And it was difficult good news for many to embrace. And then we gotta look in the mirror. What recipes are we making? What rituals are we following? What hoops are we jumping through? What levers are we trying to pull to get the same thing to get the attention of God and try to stay on His good side when it's all done? All we have to do is believe and fall back into it, ease back into it. Yes, yes, we have to fight the flesh. Yes, we have to live into sanctification. Yes, it requires a lot of things, primarily endurance, but we’re not in this alone, we’re not navigating alone. It's done. Our Father loves us enough to…enough to be so intimate with us that He dwells inside of us. He is within us. It is His work of sanctification. It is His work of conversion. It is His work of restoration and renewal. It's not our work. We keep trying…we keep trying to be made righteous. We can't. We can’t be made righteous. We can believe and become righteous because of the gift of God that is constantly at work within us. May we live into this good news. May this good news accelerate inside of us the transformation happening, moment by moment, day by day step by step as we continue our journey through life with our Father.

Prayer:

Father You are so good. When we understand this, You are so good. And, so, much that You have made available to us through faith we’re still trying to earn and we’re still feeling guilty every single step of the way because we can't earn it. When You have to find moments of exasperation, I suppose You don't, Your God, but You have to have these moments where it's, “like my darling, my son, my daughter, my precious one, You don't have to do this, it's done. Let's enjoy being together. Let's enjoy life together. And as You live into this and it transforms You then You will be doing what You're supposed to be doing. You will be shining brighter than You can possibly know.” Help us live into this. Come Holy Spirit, well up from within us. Help us to live this today. We ask in the name of the risen Christ. Amen.

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And, as always, we’re a community of prayer and we love each other well by praying for each other and caring for each other. If you have prayer request, if you're carrying the burdens that you’re trying to shoulder, they just happen to be crushing you, maybe you don't have to do that completely by yourself. Maybe just calling in, just letting…just releasing it, just saying it out loud and releasing it and knowing that no matter what happens thousands and thousands of people are going to pray for you. That makes a difference, a pretty profound difference. So, you can always reach out. There is a hotline built right into the app that no matter where we are on this big blue planet, as long as there's an Internet tower somewhere, we have a hotline. We can reach out. So, be aware of that. That's in the app or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi everybody it’s Carla Jean from Promp Nevada I’m calling with praise report. Many of you remember that last year I was divorced from my husband of 25 years and at the beginning of this year I lost my job and I was homeless and he allowed me to stay in his guestroom and we rekindled our relationship and on Friday, September 11th on what would’ve been our 27th wedding anniversary we were remarried. I know that many of you had prayed and I’m just so thankful for this community. And today on the 13th Brian read from second Corinthians 13:11, “rejoice, strive for full restoration. Encourage one another. Be of one mind. Live in peace and the God of love and peace will be with you.” Thank you, my brothers and sisters for encouraging me, for being of one mind, and for living a life of peace. Please know that I pray for all of you every single day. I love you and I’m just rejoicing. God bless. Bye.

Hi this is Paul from Wales my DABber name is Why I Follow Jesus 365 which I run on Facebook but today I was out on mission again. I’m just grateful for the way that following the DAB has absolutely changed my life over the last five years. And saw another two people saved this morning. That’s either the 28 or 29. Got three people in the message book waiting to discuss Jesus. Be praying for them for a while. And just want to give a praise report. God’s at work. It’s fantastic. It’s going brilliant and none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t started with DAB. And it’s just changed my life to walk the walk and be encouraged. That’s were called to do. And as much as giving mission and telling people God loves you and has a perfect plan for your life it really is about us learning to be obedient. And until we do as He tells us people won’t be saved and it’s just hopefully an encouragement for somebody no matter the difficulties in the challenges. And the other fantastic thing is I learned this week to really follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance in my personal life over things like buying cars. And none of that what I even have attempted to consider before DAB. So, thank you bless you take care stay safe in America, terrible what I’m seeing on the news. You’re in my prayers. Take care.

[Singing starts] dear God please help all the people that are in the fire. Please help them to be safe and not to get hurt. Please help them to know that you’re with them. Dear Lord, we love you so much. Dear Lord, we love you. You’re in our heart. We’re in yours too. Please help other people to learn about you [singing stop’s]. Thank you.

Hi, DABbers this is Kari from California I am also a longtime listener in the first-time caller. Today is Monday the 14th I was just listening to the prayers and Sue’s from California I heard your prayer and just wanted to call and thank you for calling in for the first time to ask for prayer for your family. I was so touched by your message and will be praying for you and your family but also just encouraged by the faith that all of you have as you’re in the midst of all these challenges and a lot of unknown. You are standing strong in your faith and your encouragement has encouraged me and will encourage others. So, Lord we just lift up Sue’s and her family Lord. We lift up her husband who’s on hospice now and we just ask for Your intervention Lord. Be with the family as they walk through this time with him. Lord lift up Sue’s and ask that You would just take this depression away Lord, that You would flood her with Your peace and encourage her for her daughter and this cancer Lord. We ask for a miraculous healing. We rebuke this in Your name Father, and we claim healing for her daughter that she wouldn’t even have to start this chemo in October. And for her son, whatever is going on there that he’s not ready to share Lord that we also ask for healing for him. We ask for healing for Sue’s colon and we just ask Your grace and peace and mercy on this family. DABbers I love you all. Thank you for this community. Have a blessed day.

Hi, good morning this is Jeanette from Denmark. I’d really appreciate some prayer. I have recently had a virus and my body’s been trying to get back to normal after it. And I take some medicine to help keep my immune system up and when that is playing together with an infection it usually means I don’t sleep very well. I want to share what the Lord comforted me with last night while praying, that, yes, He is our God who sees us but He’s not a human being like people who only can look. He’s our shepherd who sees us through everything. When Abraham’s son Ishmael was together with his mother, the Egyptian slave in the desert, God didn’t just let them go. He sent an angel to provide water and encouragement. And our God is the very best shepherd we have. He’s more powerful than everything that is around us, no matter what it is. I love you guys over in the states. I am…I’m praying for you guys during the election season. Remember to guard the door of your heart. Be careful what goes in your eyes and your ears and have peace. The Lord sees you. The Lord knows you and He loves you.

Hi, Brian hi DABbers this is Emily in Seattle. I haven’t called in a while. I just wanted to let you know that things are good. Things are really good. I’m still dealing with my vision loss and that isn’t fun but everything else in our life can be summarized in one word, grace. The grace is abounding more and more in these last days and I pray you guys feel His grace as much as I do and are experiencing His grace even through all the hardships that we’re going through in these last days of COVID and everything happening in the world. And I just wanted to let you know that I love you all very, very much. God bless you guys so, so much. Keep listening to the DAB. Keep out there with your faith. Keep the faith going. You got this. I love you all. Bye.

[perspective-series]

Meta Perspective (7)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Slight fear and injury mention

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

————————————————————————————————–

Amanda gasped, jolting awake. Had she really fallen asleep? How much time had passed? Amanda cursed her poor planning, looking frantically around the room. At least she was still alone, she had a chance of going through with her escape. Not to mention, the rest did feel nice on her leg. Amanda felt she could even chance putting weight on it. 

Amanda slid out from underneath the blankets, looking over the edge of the bed. It was still a decent drop and wasn’t going to feel very pleasant, but there was little she could do about that. Her hook would just slide down the fabric as well, tearing through it. So, with a sigh, Amanda gripped the blankets and prepared to drop for the third time in the last 24 hours.

 At that moment, Virgil came into the room. He paused as he saw her, awake and at the edge of the bed. “Well...glad to see you’re awake.” 

Amanda quickly scrambled back up onto the edge, sitting on the main part of the bed. No use in trying to get away now; in her state, Virgil would easily catch her. Still, that didn’t mean Amanda had to be happy about it.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Amanda muttered irritably, trying not to look guilty.

 “Right.” It’s not like he didn’t just see exactly what she was trying to do or anything. With a sigh, he came closer and held a hand out to her. “Dinner’s ready.”

“How long was I asleep?” Amanda asked, trying to gauge what time it was as she climbed on.

 Virgil shrugged, bringing his hand to his chest. “About two hours.” He headed out of the room.

“That long?” Amanda let out a groan. How could she have slept so late?

 “Yep, you were out like a light the last time I checked.” Which made sense, considering they had stayed up pretty late watching Sherlock. He entered the kitchen, see that Patton already had the table set. 

 “Hey, guys! Go ahead and dig in!” Virgil smiled and sat down before letting Amanda off on the table.

It unnerved Amanda slightly to hear that Virgil had come to check on her and she hadn’t even noticed. Usually, her borrower instincts were sure to kick in. Did they not work while sleeping? Amanda had never tested that, but it must be what had happened. Why else would her instincts not pick up Virgil as a threat?

“Thanks.” Amanda thanked Patton, noticing the baked potato and pork chop in front of her. She smiled slightly. Even if her escape failed, at least she got more potatoes.

 “So, did you get some good rest?” Patton asked, then took a bite of his own food. Virgil took a bite himself, having already decided to keep quiet about Amanda’s almost escape attempt. At least for now.

“Yeah, apparently,” Amanda answered, eating her own food. “I didn’t mean to sleep that long.” Or sleep at all.

 “Aww, it’s okay! It’s probably good you got the rest, that way you’re leg can heal up quicker!” Patton exclaimed. 

 “Yeah, the trick is to not be on it.” Virgil spoke, sending Amanda a look.

“Well then, good thing I wasn’t on it.” Amanda feigned ignorance, taking another bite.

 Patton was oblivious to everything. “So, I was thinking after dinner, we could play a game!” 

 Virgil blinked. “A game?” Patton nodded.

 “Yeah! I have plenty of board games and video games we could play.”

“What kind of game?” Amanda tilted her head. She knew many borrower games, but very few human ones.

 “Oh, I’ve got tons!” Patton exclaimed with a grin. “We can play monopoly, life, apples to apples to name some board games. As for video games, I have a switch, so we could try out Mario Party or something like that.”

“...Great!” Amanda plastered on a smile. “I have no idea what that means!”

 “Oh, right.” Patton looked sheepish. “Well, okay, let me ask you this first. Do you want to play a physical game? Or a game on the TV?” Patton asked.

“Um, well…” Amanda thought it over. It’d probably be best if she did stay off her leg to save energy for her next attempt. A board game might mean she had to get up a lot, but she’d seen the way humans played video games. Those controllers would probably require just as much movement for someone of her size.

“Whatever you think will be easier,” Amanda answered, deciding to leave it up to the game experts. “I just want to rest while we play.”

 “In that case, I think Mario Party sounds like our best option.” Patton said with a grin. He turned to Virgil. “Can you go get it started while I clean up.” Virgil nodded and stood.

 “Yeah, no problem Pat.” Virgil went into the living room to do just that and Patton started collecting the dishes.

 “Did you enjoy dinner?” Patton asked Amanda.

“Yeah, it was tasty.” Amanda nodded honestly.

 “I’m glad!” Patton quickly dumped the plates in the sink and then went back to the table to offer Amanda a hand. He’d actually wash them later. “I’ve been making sure to include a bit more potatoes in the meals for you. Since I know you like them so much.”

“Oh!” Amanda had, of course, noticed the amount of potatoes, but she didn’t know they were for her. “That’s...really sweet of you, Patton. Thank you.”

 “Of course! If you want anything, you just gotta say it.” Patton grinned.

 “Game is set up!” Virgil called out. Patton looked back to Amanda. 

 “Let’s head out there, I’m sure you’re going to love this game.”

Despite herself, Amanda agreed with that notion as she stepped into Patton’s hand. There was just something about human culture she loved so much; perhaps it was the fact it was forbidden, and a secret part of her loved this rebellious energy.

 Patton brought her out into the living room, setting her down on the arm of the couch. The game screen was already on the TV and Virgil handed Patton a red and blue switched remote. Patton then set the red one down in front of Amanda.

“So...what do I do?” Amanda, as she looked down at the controller, suddenly had the urge to press every single button.

 “So, you move with this,” Patton said, pointing to the joystick on his own controller. “And these buttons with the letters on them do different things. Don’t worry though, you’ll get the hang off it.”

 “Yeah, and this game is perfect for you.” Virgil spoke. “Since it tells you what controls to use for every mini game.”

“Ooookay?” Amanda agreed, still feeling a bit lost. She tested out the controls, trying to do as the humans instructed, but nothing happened.

 “Hold on, your controller isn’t connected yet,” Virgil said, going to do that. “Just press the two top buttons down at the same time.”

“Like this?” Amanda pressed them down with all her might.

 Patton grinned as the controller registered on the TV. “Yep! Good job! Now we can choose our characters. I call Daisy!” Patton clicked on the orange dress wearing girl on the screen.

 “I call Boo.” Virgil said, picking the ghost character.

“I call...this one.” Amanda replicated their movements, choosing a green turtle creature.

 “Oh, a Koopa. Nice choice.” Virgil said and then, they were in the game. When they got to the dice roll to see who would go first, Virgil frowned. “Wait, uh, Amanda can you lift the controller? And then pump it up?” The controller was small but Amanda was still only about the same size as it.

“Do what now?” Amanda looked down at the controller, concerned at the thought of trying to hold the monstrosity.

 “Maybe this game isn’t gonna work,” Virgil muttered, already exiting to the home screen. Patton looked disappointed.

 “Aww man. Well, is there another game Amanda could play?” Patton asked. Virgil thought for a moment. A lot of the games did involve moving the controller but…

 “Yeah, I think so.” Virgil stood up and switched out the games, the title screen now displaying the same characters as before but in karts.

“Wait, so we’re playing this now?” Amanda asked, watching Virgil click through the menu screens. “Can I actually play this one?”

 “Yep, I just have to…” Virgil went into Amanda’s controller settings and changed it so all she had to do was move the joystick. “There. The only thing you need to worry about now is moving the joystick.” He smirked down at Amanda. “Sound manageable?”

“Are you asking me if I can manage one lever?” Amanda raised an eyebrow, giving it a practice shove. “You know I’m not incompetent, right?”

 “Do I?” Virgil said with a smirk. Patton shook his head, but there was a fond smile on his face, knowing Virgil didn’t mean it. But still.

 “Don’t be mean, kiddo.” Patton said and Virgil just rolled his eyes.

 “Yeah, yeah.” Virgil clicked on a few more things to bring them to another character select. “I’m sticking with Boo, if you guys don’t mind.”

 “I’m still gonna be Daisy!” Patton exclaimed.

“And I’m Koopa thing again.” Amanda chimed in, feeling almost a sense of Deja Vu.

 “Sweet. Now just choose what kind of kart or bike you want.” Virgil said, going to his own creation. Patton, however, had a bit more information to give. 

 “The stats on the right tell you how much speed and stamina it has. I’d probably go for a lot of speed and control.” Patton explained before making his own kart.

“...right.” Amanda tried to keep track like Patton suggested, but there seemed to be an overwhelming amount of information. She decided to just pick the parts she thought looked best instead.

 “Ready to race?” Virgil asked, giving Amanda a determined look. He was not about to let her win, uncaring that she had never played video games before. He didn’t think she would appreciate it anyway.

“Ready.” Amanda leaned forwards, looking determined. She may not know a lot about gaming, but she did know competitive racing. Of course, the kart was new.

 The screen counted down and as the light turned green, they were off. Virgil and Patton, both having played the game a ton before and knew all the maps, were quick to get ahead of all the NPCs and Amanda.

Amanda quickly began to get the hang of it, leaning into the turns instinctively as she pushed the joystick to and fro. She grinned, watching her character pass the other racers. This wasn’t so bad!

 Both Virgil and Patton’s eyes were slightly wide at how fast Amanda was getting the hang of things. Patton felt proud but Virgil just took it as more of a challenge and moved into an item box. He grinned when he got a banana peel and threw it behind him right in Amanda’s path.

“What? Hey!” Amanda gave the screen an offended look, quickly recovering control of her vehicle. She glared, recognizing Virgil’s character. “That’s cheating.”

 “No, it’s not.” Virgil said with a smirk. “It’s all part of the game.”

“Well, then how do I do it to you?” Amanda huffed, eyes glancing around for something she missed.

 “Left or right trigger,” Patton answered. He glanced at Virgil. He didn’t really think it was a fair move but it was part of the game. Still, though, Amanda was new to all this and he was at least trying to ease her into it.

“How am I supposed to reach that and drive?” Amanda glanced at the buttons Patton indicated. She could reach them if she were standing maybe, but with her bad leg that wouldn’t be such a good idea. Of course, Amanda began to consider it if only to spite Virgil.

 “You can’t,” Virgil smirked and Patton, being able to, got an item and hit Virgil with a shell. Making him fall behind Amanda.

 “Wha-? Hey!”

“Serves you right, cheater.” Amanda gave a smirk of her own, cutting a close corner around the bend to keep her lead.

 Virgil huffed but was quick to catch up based on his experience alone. He passed both Amanda and Patton, crossing over the finish line a few moments later. “Ha! I win!”

 Patton was too caught up looking at Virgil’s win screen that he didn’t realize he went past Amanda and became second. “...Whoops.”

Amanda tried not to feel bitter. It made sense for them to race better, they had years of practice of course and- “Wait, hang on. Patton, were you...pitying me?” 

 “Wh-What? No, of course not! I just…” Patton bit his lip as he set his controller down on the coffee table. “I just thought, since it was your first time playing I would go just a bit easier on you…”

Amanda pursed her lips, pouting slightly. Patton had tried to let her win and she still lost.

“Well, I still don’t think those items are very fair.” Amanda came back around to the one part of the game she didn’t like. “Considering I can’t use them.”

 “Maybe not now, but when your leg gets better we can play again and be more even!” Patton suggested. Virgil gave Patton a look as he set his controller down and then to Amanda. Patton actually thought…

“...right.” Amanda nodded, but her voice was quieter. She had to stay focused on the task at hand. Getting better had to be her top priority, not winning a virtual kart race.

 “I wish I could play longer, but I just remembered I have homework,” Patton said with a sheepish grin.

 “Yeah, actually, so do I.” Virgil stood up and turned off the switch and TV. Patton turned to Amanda.

 “Alright, who do you want to go with?” Patton asked her.

“I can go with you, Patton.” Amanda offered. It was the obvious choice- Patton was clearly the more gullible of the two.

 “Yay!” Patton offered his hand to her.

Amanda climbed on, smiling slightly to herself as she noticed her leg was feeling marginally better. Slowly but surely she was getting there.

 Patton held her close to his chest, nodding to Virgil as he passed. “See you in the morning Virge!” 

 “Yeah, goodnight.” Virgil sent Amanda one last look before he disappeared into his room, Patton going into his shortly after. He set Amanda down on the desk before taking a seat himself and emptying out his bag for his assignments. 

 “Did you want to play around on my phone while I worked?” Patton asked Amanda, figuring she might be bored just sitting there.

“Oooh, yes please.” Amanda’s eyes shone at the possibilities. She had never been allowed near a human phone before or at least been allowed to mess with one. It would certainly be interesting to see...until, of course, she got the chance to escape.

 “Alright!” Patton grinned and took out his phone, unlocking it and setting it down in front of her. “There you go, just let me know if you have any questions about it.” He then turned to his homework.

Amanda was sure she would have lots of questions, but she preferred to try and figure them out the borrower way: trial and error. She began pressing icons at random, trying to guess what the buttons did and why they were there.

“...okay, I yield.” Amanda finally admitted, realizing she was out of her element. “What am I doing?”

 Patton chuckled a little. “Well, what do you want to do? There are a few games, you could watch a video, you can have a go at taking a selfie?” Patton laughed.

“What’s a selfie?” Amanda tried to repeat the phrase back, unsure of her pronunciation.

 “It’s when you take a photo of yourself. Usually from the front camera. Here.” Patton opened the camera app and held the phone up, grinning wide as he took a picture. He then showed it to Amanda. “That is a selfie.”

“Oh, ah no, I don’t want to do that.” Amanda quickly shook her head. Photos were a bad idea when you were trying to keep your entire race a secret. “I’ll just play a game on it. Do you have that kart game? Where’s the joystick?”

 “Oh, uh, not on the phone, no. It’s more basic games on the phone. Hold on, um…” Patton looked through his phone, to find a game that would be simple but fun for Amanda. “Amanda, I hope this doesn’t sound rude but...can you read?”

“Yes Patton, I can read,” Amanda assured him, trying not to take offense. “I read all the Sherlock books when I was younger. It’s why I wanted to watch it.”

 “Oh! Wow, okay then.” Patton hit the app and place it in front of her. “Okay, so this game is more of a simulation. It goes through the life of a human but you can do different things to get a different outcome.” He showed her all the categories and what to press. “You got it?”

Amanda nodded. She began tapping along, reading the story as she slowly grew her human up. “So, what’s the point of this game? How do you win?”

 “You don’t really win, it’s just kind of...fun, to see what different lives you can lead,” Patton said with a shrug.

“Oh.” It seemed kind of pointless then, but Amanda was bored with nothing better to do. Maybe that was the point. “Alright then.”

 “You’ll see. Pretty soon, you’ll be addicted to it just like everyone else.” Patton laughed before turning back to his work.

Amanda kept playing for almost an hour, making sure to read every piece of information carefully. She became invested, wanting to live the best life virtually possible. Amanda thought she was doing well; that is, until a giant tombstone appeared on the screen.

“I died?!” Amanda was flabbergasted as she read that text. “I didn’t even know that could happen! I- what did I do wrong?”

 Patton looked over at the screen a small smile on his face. “Nothing. That’s how they all end. You start the game born and then the game ends when you die. Just like regular life.” Patton read her stats. “But it looks like you lead a pretty good life!”

“Yeah but I just died anyways.” Amanda pushed away the phone, a bit bitter she had let herself get so tied up in a silly game. 

 “Yeah. But that’s life.” Patton took the phone closing the app. “Did you want to play something else? Or…?”

“I don’t know.” Amanda shrugged. “How close are you to being done with your homework? What are you doing, anyways?”

 “Oh, I’m just finishing up a math worksheet. See.” He brought the paper closer for Amanda to see. “I should be done in a few minutes.”

“Oh, okay.” Amanda just waited it out, twiddling her thumbs. Her eyes scanned around the room, once again by instinct planning out her escape routes. Of course, they were useless when she was so close to Patton.

 “Are you tired?” Patton asked, finishing up his last problem.

”A little.” Actually, Amanda still felt wide awake, but she faked a small yawn. 

 “Okay! Then I say we head to bed!” He offered Amanda a lift.

“Excellent!” Amanda tried not to show her excitement about Patton going to sleep as she climbed into his hand. This would be her chance.

 Patton headed over to the bed and set Amanda down on the pillow before climbing into bed himself. He stretched his arms. “You all good? Do you need anything before the lights go out?”

Amanda just shook her head, giving off the illusion of settling in for the night as she sunk into the pillow. It was odd, the idea of sleeping so close to a human, even for pretend.

 “Okay. Goodnight then!” Patton shut the light off and settled down into bed.

Amanda waited for her eyes to adjust, sending a glance in Patton’s direction. She couldn’t see the glow of his eyes, so she assumed she was in the clear. With a grin, Amanda prepared to slip off the pillow.

 Patton sighed, feeling her movements. “Amanda?”

Amanda froze. “...yes?”

 “You’re still trying to leave, aren’t you?” Patton asked softly.

Amanda paused, debating what she should say. If this was Virgil the answer would be obvious, but for some reason, the sincerity of Patton’s voice made it difficult to lie to the human.

“...yes,” Amanda replied quietly.

 “...Can I ask why?” Patton’s voice stayed quiet and he had yet to move, simply staring up at the ceiling for now.

“Um, well nothing’s stopping you.” Amanda joked, but her chuckle was humorless. She looked over at Patton’s form, trying to figure out the answer herself.

“...I guess just because it’s what I’m supposed to do.” Amanda explained. “Because borrowers aren’t really supposed to be seen in the first place, let alone stick around.”

 “Oh.” Patton thought for a moment, shifting slightly so he was laying on his side so he could look at Amanda. “Even if the human is just trying to help?”

“Well, yeah.” Amanda turned her attention to picking at her bandages. “Because humans are...evil, and have ulterior motives, and don’t, um, don’t just...help.” Though she had been taught these things were true, it felt so weird to say them aloud to Patton. Because despite what she knew from her teachings, her heart just couldn’t see Patton as one of those stereotypical monster humans.

 “...Do you think I’m evil? That I want you here for some other reason? That I don’t just want to help you get better?” Patton asked, voice sad. He could understand Amanda’s fears...but it still hurt.

“I think you want me to stay longer than it’s going to take my leg to heal,” Amanda answered. “But I don’t know what would happen then if I didn’t want to stay. I don’t think you’re by nature a bad person, Patton, but the concept of a human actually letting a borrower go…” Amanda gave a weak chuckle again. “That’s completely foreign to me.”

 “Of course I would let you go,” Patton said but he knew his words meant very little. He bit his lip. “How is your leg doing. Does it feel a little better?”

“Yeah, it’s doing okay.” Amanda nodded, although she doubted Patton could see the movement in the darkness. “Borrowers heal fast. It should be fine in another day or two.”

 “Well...if you think you’ll be okay to go then you can.” Patton finally said. “I’ll be worried, of course, but I...I don’t want to keep you here if you really are unhappy.”

Amanda’s eyebrows raised. “What, tonight?”

 Patton nodded. “Right now. I’ll turn around and go back to sleep and you can go home.”

Amanda looked out at the bedroom, eyes slowly falling towards the outlet cover that held her entrance.

“...What about Virgil?” Amanda asked.

 Patton shrugged. “I’ll just tell him the truth. That I let you go back home. Virgil wouldn’t do anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“How do you know?” Amanda pressed. “He seemed pretty adamant about me staying.” Indeed, of the two, Virgil was definitely the one Amanda worried about more.

 “I know because he only did that because he thought that’s what I wanted,” Patton explained. “When I explain things, he’ll understand. I’m sure he’ll miss you though, even if he won’t admit it.”

Amanda’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh.” So all this time, Patton was the real leader of team “Don’t Let Amanda Go”. 

...and still, Amanda didn’t think of him as a bad guy. Why was that? 

“So...what would happen if I don’t go?” Amanda asked.

 Patton smiled softly. “Well...we’d continue to help your leg heal. Get some food in you. The normal?”

“And...after my leg heals?” Amanda’s second question was quieter.

 Somehow, Patton’s eyes turned even softer. “Then you can go home. Like the plan always was.”

Amanda couldn’t believe she was even considering it. The idea of willingly staying with humans when she was given a free pass to leave was unheard of; any borrower would be ashamed to learn Amanda was even thinking such a thing.

Of course, any borrower didn’t know her humans.

“Okay.” Amanda’s voice was barely above a human whisper, uncharacteristically timid as she settled back into the pillow. She hoped she wasn’t making a poor decision.

 Patton smiled. “Okay.” Patton settled back down to sleep. “And just so you know. If you change your mind, you can leave at any time.”

“Thanks, Patton.” Amanda took a deep breath, slowly letting it back out. “...goodnight.”

 “Goodnight.” Patton closed his eyes and fell asleep for the first time that night.

[alexsmitposts]

Relax America: Putin Controls the Horizontal When did you first wake up from the collective sleep? For me, it was right before the Sochi Olympics of 2014. The roll-up blinds turned loose and snapped open, letting the bright morning sun rush into my sleepy brain. I remember thinking, “Wait a minute, us Americans, we’re supposed to be sportsmanlike.” So, something went was all wrong about Russia’s big Winter Olympic extravaganza. Only it had nothing to do with the Russians. The “something” was the onset of Russophobic chaos, you can call it Cold War II. All that hate leveled on Russia at her shining moment, it was the trumpeting of the end of peace in our time. “There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can roll the image, make it flutter. We can change the focus to a soft blur, or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour, sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: There is nothing wrong with your television set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to… The Outer Limits.” Cut scene away from the 1962 TV series to 2021. Russian strongman Vladimir Putin now controls the world. An American billionaire president is run like a sock puppet by the former KGB Colonel. The great democracy is a push-button Russian toy. Putin’s GRU operatives in secret cyber pods across Russia monkey with the inner workings our America’s system. And now, even the Democratic Party candidates of a once-great nation are nothing more than little wooden Pinocchios for Vladimir to have fun with. It’s over. The Ruskies have won the game. Before long Starbucks will be serving blinis and borscht with a shot of Belebeyevskaya classic vodka. At least this is the rumor from CNN and The New York Times. GQ Magazine asks the question; “Why Does Putin Love Bernie?” James Carville, President Clinton’s former adviser, and campaign manager says; “the Nevada caucuses are a big win for top vote-getter Bernie Sanders, and for Vladimir Putin.” Google promotes the topic of “Russia and Bernie Sanders” to the top of any news search for Putin. Mike Bloomberg is telling the world Bernie Sanders is Putin’s choice because he can’t beat Donald Trump come November. And the United States of America is reduced to a great big mess of finger-pointers and Chicken Little fraidy-cats hollering “THE SKY IS FALLING!” Bloomberg likes China’s President Xi Jinping, Trump’s in Putin’s pocket, Sanders is the Russian interference super-cop, and the people of my country are a fragmented mess of dizzy Disney characters hell-bent on self. The world can go to hell, as long as we can feel like America is great again. In the meantime, the globalists who got the world in the current mess are creating a bipolar power struggle that can only lead to confrontation. From my perspective, everything we are seeing is the beating of war drums in preparation for some ultimate confrontation. The tension feels a lot worse than the original Cold War, in many ways. It’s as if some Wizard of Arms is behind the curtain pulling the strings to take us to a massive arms buildup. This hate and fear Russia narrative can only end in greater world crises. Just the other day Putin commented that Russia is ready for another “Cuban Missile Crisis” scenario if the west takes things that far. But the game big problem is not the complexion of this new Great Game. The more dangerous issue is the fact that policy analysis and geostrategy have become impossible now. The current situation cannot be looked at objectively anymore. Nobody is the expert in a cosmic mind mashing of misinformation and tailored rhetoric coming from all sides. Media is no longer news. Research is tainted by the big money. Profit superimposes an invisible will on everything we hear, see, think, and do. Putin the villain. Crazy Trump. And now the useless Bernie comes under the Russian mind control beam. Nuts. The world has gone nuts. We might as well be in the Dark Ages waiting for the total demographic, cultural, and economic deterioration to come. The New York Times’ On Politics writer Lisa Lerer says “the Russians don’t have to help President Trump or Bernie Sanders. They may already be winning.” It’s funny to me that none of these genius journalists and experts ever ask “What if?” Think about it. Let’s say Vladimir Putin is the great wizard pulling all the levers. What happens when the evil genius Putin finally wins it all? I guess, worst-case scenario, every Russian has two SUVs in their two-car garages in their Vladivostok or Yekaterinburg suburbs. Hell, America operates as if there are not enough gas-guzzling 4x4s to go around. A moment of pause, please. Why was it that the United States and Russia were enemies in the first place? Was there a purpose in all this west-east maneuvering? In my honest opinion, Vladimir Putin has done everything in his power to reconcile relations with the United States. In fact, he’s bent over backward to moderate the situation that came about because of the Ukraine coup. Yes, I said coup. The United States was behind Ukraine-EU integration all along, and Russia has only been on the defensive since before the Georgia War, which was also instigated by the United States. Even though the analysis of the overall geopolitical situation has become impossible, evaluating Putin’s role is not so complex. If the Russian president had wanted this bipolar power struggle, all he needed to do was to forge a military alliance with Iran and/or China. If his grand idea was territorial dominance, air dominance land-based military control of Asia, the Persian Gulf, and satellites in Latin America like Venezuela would pretty much do it. Sadly, this scenario looms darkly over the current situation we face. Americans are totally brainwashed and blinded by controlled media. The MAGA nonsense ripped the United States right down the middle. One provocation, a Gulf of Tonkin, and the next Vietnam or Korea is a reality. There’s nobody and nothing to stop it. Hell, a full-scale revolution is not beyond the scope of imagination if there is a close 2020 presidential race. The stage is set on that. With Putin and Russia as the convenient instigators, try and imagine how a silent or loud coup in America works. Think like the 21st Century robber barons in charge of this whole mess. Somewhere in London or New York, a room thick with cigar smoke and old leather echoes with the casual planning of powerful men. And no, there are no ladies present, I am sorry for those among you who believe in things like equality. This mahogany clad penthouse overlooking us peons is where the fates are being calculated. Two, five, six, or seven old and angry men decide it all. The end game. What Putin will do. How Trump’s play will impact the big win or lose of west versus east. Bernie or Bloomberg. None of this really matters, don’t you see? I can assure you, these people are there planning and plotting based on foreknowledge that presidential outcomes are controlled. Come on America, we know this since forever. The only question is; “Are they planning for the ultimate takeover of the world, or do they already control it?” My only hope is that I am right in betting on Vladimir Putin being on the level. I hope Putin does control the horizontal in this case, because the vertical is controlled by the worst of the worst among us.

[jay-cult]

A Golden Promise

Hey guys :D I wrote a little one shot for Rhon during my free time in school. After this I can start working on chapter fics and stuff during class. For now have this lovely fic.

*Features Rhon and Scree, told from Rhon’s perspective primarily *Hints of Jaya, maybe more than hints *Also has lots and lots of Jay. Lots *Mild swearing because Rhon is a hecker *I actually have no idea how making jewelry works, I literally made this up I’m admitting this now, but I’ll fill in that hole with “it’s Rhon’s way”

While “lounging” around in her freetime, Rhon puts on a new task when her nephew brings her news and asks for help with a creation, and perhaps with more.

A Golden Promise

Rhon was having a sort of usual day.

“So, what are you thinking for this one, eh? How much are you gonna rip me off this time?” Her client asked, half joking.

She leaned in. “I told you the price,” she said flatly, but still repeated the obviously fair payment that he was to give her. In return for his vehicle being fixed, he would give her money. That’s how life worked, weirdo.

Scree was perched casually on her shoulder, and he leaned toward the client like her, trying his best to appear intimidating. The eagle fixed him with a piercing stare.

“Alright, alright, I’m jokin’, calm down,” he smiled and waved his hand in a sweeping motion as if to say, “Forget about it.” He readied a bag full of gold coins and tossed it at her.

Scree hopped off from her shoulder and quickly grabbed the bag before it hit her, but the weight of it immediately made him drop to the ground before he could spread his wings enough. He let out a screech.

Rhon looked menacingly toward where her client had just stood, but he was already climbing into his newly fixed vehicle.

“Ninjago should really establish some form of paper money,” she muttered to Scree while picking the bag of gold up from the ground.

To keep property private and all that, Rhon wouldn’t usually do her business while her airship was docked where the ninja’s place of residence was, which at this time was the newly built Monastery. She wasn’t there often. The lack of business, the noise of her companions, and the distance from fresh resources also made for a not-so-beneficial time. But today, she was staying with said companions for the simple reason of wanting to spend time with them. She did care about them, after all.

She and Scree made their way inside her airship, the Grayscale. It was big enough to hold a workshop where she could work on a couple of business and creative projects, a bedroom, a large guestroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a general piloting area atop the deck that contained many control panels filled with levers, buttons, and monitors, and of course the cockpit with a steering wheel. The deck itself was plain, with a few masts with sails enabling its flight. It was maybe two thirds of the size of the ninjas’ many previous models of the Destiny’s Bounty.

She built it herself, with some help from a friend, a long time ago.

Rhon set the bag down on a table in her workshop. She sat down and sorted through the coins, counting up the value. Scree disappeared while she was counting and returned with a couple of lizards in his mouth, settling down on a perch by the table to consume them. Rhon looked down at her calculations. One gold coin short. Figures.

“RhooOOOOON! AUNT RHON! Hi-”

Rhon jumped in her seat, scattering coins all over the table. Scree lifted into the air and let out a surprised shriek. Rhon exhaled and relaxed, but Scree continued to flap in midair, clearly choking on something.

“Scree? Fuck-” Rhon stood out of her seat again, jumping up to grab her bird.

“Aa! Oh no! I’m sorry, ooohhhh no.” It was Jay. He ran over quickly, clearly not really knowing what to do and looking on concerned.

Finally, after a few retches and hits on the back, Scree coughed and a lizard came flying out of his throat. It splatted on a wall.

“That... literally could not have gone worse,” Rhon sighed.

Jay scratched his neck, embarrassed. “I am SO sorry, shoot, I didn’t mean to-”

“Of course you didn’t, don’t get all twisted up,” she interrupted, though frowning. If it was any normal person they would be up to their ears in Rhon’s insults and accusations, but this was Jay. “Just… shake it off.”

Her nephew suddenly brightened up. Scree flapped over and landed on his shoulder, signifying forgiveness. “Okay, okay. I came here to tell yoouuu something great, oh man.”

Rhon crossed her arms and narrowed on of her eyebrows, looking at him curiously. Sure, Jay was enthusiastic and, well, emotional, but him being THIS excited-looking was a rare case. “Alright, what?”

“So, uh, like, you know, Nya.”

“Yes, yes, I know Nya, she’s kind of a close ally of mine,” Rhon said slightly sarcastically. She couldn’t really help it.

“Yeah, yeah, Nya, well. Going to….. I’m going to….. ask her to be my Yang!” Jay revealed enthusiastically.

“Oh wow, really?” Rhon asked, actually surprised. “Wow, uh, congrats!” She awkwardly smiled.

She noticed that her nephew was about ready to jump out of his pants.

“Damn Jay, calm down,” she said a bit forcefully, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Rhon knew that her Jay was an expressive person, so something this huge might just have made him explode. “I can barely understand you.”

“Sorry, sorry, just.” He forced himself to stop being so jittery. “I’m…. really excited, and nervous especially.”

No kidding. She stood there looking at him with Scree on his shoulder and thinking it over. Jay and Nya were, at the least, different. That’s what made them special, she thought. The two were quite obviously mad for each other. The reason was, quite simply put, that they had just been through so much. Through suffering and even through death… real death. Young love, am I right? She thought sarcastically. To herself.

“Anyway, um.” Jay chilled down a little bit, becoming much more like himself. “I’m not just telling you the news.”

Rhon raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I really need your help.”

She thought he must have been joking for a second, and was about to say that he got her. But for once he had a serious look on his face. “Wait,” she said after a few moments of silence. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, of course, I need a charm.”

Rhon let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank FSM. I thought you meant- oh, nevermind.”

Her nephew stood confused for a while before he burst out laughing. “WHAT? You thought I wanted to ask you to help with the general thing? Like th-the asking and the romance and like, the wooing-”

Rhon wasn’t really used to being made fun of, so she just stood there frowning and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, hell no am I a romantic. Great Garm does that generate a weird image.”

Jay laughed more at her statement. “Oh man I’m just imagining this like, you, but Scree’s kind of flying around in majestic circles,” Scree let out a little noise at the mention of his name, “and your cape is flowing in the wind and you’re going, uh, ‘hey there, sweetheart,’ with a twinkle in your eye or something.”

She started to laugh a little. “Imagine I’m making some sort of a heart made of lightning.”

“Ah, Garm,” he let out his breath, “that’s funny. Wait wait wait, look, you mean like this?”

Jay brought his hands up to his chest and jerked them a little. Lightning flew out of them and formed a fantastic heart shape. His face was twisted in extreme focus.

“Hey, that’s actually really good,” Rhon complimented. She followed, bringing her hands up to her chest, and trying the best in her mind to flex out the bolts. Same jolted off to the side, while others flew up too far.

“Try bending your hands back a bit more,” the blue ninja instructed. “And you gotta focus, which yeah, is really hard, but you can- yeah, there you go!”

Rhon smiled upon seeing herself be able to do the fun trick. She was extremely tempted to bust out a “Hey there, sweetheart,” but as much as she loved her nephew, she retained her dignity.

“You could try this thing out on your girl,” Rhon suggested.

“Ooh, yeah you’re right, that’s a great idea!” He said, accepting her suggestion. “I sure will sometime.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Okay, fun’s over. You wanted the charm, right?”

“Yeah, you know how to make stuff, right?”

“Well, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly the craft-tsy type. Draw-tsy, sure, but…”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not the same.”

He chuckled a bit.

“Ah, I’m just kiddin’. I’ve made odes of gold from my last fix. I may not be ‘crafty’ but I’ve got an idea. We can try it out.” She ruffled the short boy’s hair and walked off to retrieve a stool from her workshop’s auto-fixing… area… thing. The place where vehicles would go when she worked on them.

She returned to her desk and set the stool beside her chair, making an area of two seats. Rhon looked at the still-scattered coins on the desk. With the help of Scree (Jay was off poking around in her workshop. She let only him and sometimes Nya if they were together do so with the whole ship) she gathered the coins up into a bag.

Rhon readied her smelter and placed a large amount of coins- there not being enough later would be a problem- in it. Finally, some hard clay and carving tools in her hands, she made her way back to her desk.

Jay returned there at the same time and Scree made a perching area out of his head. She placed the glob of clay in front of him, leaving a little for herself. In front of him she also placed a piece of paper and a pen.

She sat down, ready to give him a few hours of her time. “What are your ideas?”

“Well it’s a Yin and Yang charm, obviously,” he replied. “We’ll be making that symbol with the charm. Each part goes to its respective party.” Jay reached for his head and scratched Scree on his neck. The eagle let out a soft churr. “So then maybe we could the elemental signs on each respective part.”

He carefully sketched out the symbol. He drew another circle around it, putting his two lines on one side and Nya’s curvy splash on the other. He labelled his with Yin and hers with Yang.

“Well it’s really nice but also too bland,” he sighed.

“Creativity’s your thing,” Rhon pushed. “Do something with it.”

“Well I can’t just… force myself to do it,” he argued. “Ideas aren’t made, they pop out of thin air, during the wrongest times, like in the shower, or in the middle of making-”

“OKAY, alright, yeah, sorry,” she interrupted, “I just hoped you’d at least have gotten an idea already. How long ago did you start thinking about doing this again?”

“Like a week ago, but in all honesty, there’s so much else to distract me about it, I can hardly think about something as detailed to the situation as charm designs. Like what about the clothes I’ll wear or the way I’ll have to have my hair look on the day I ask.”

As Jay spoke he looked down at his gi, emphasizing his point. His eyes trailed the intricate gold designs of the beautiful dragon that stretched across him. “Oh, wait! Dragons… dragons are really cool.”

Rhon nodded as he sketched down the design onto the paper. “You know, I hate being prodded, but I’m still gonna prod you. You seem a little nervous to do this. ‘Little’ is, ah, relative.”

“YEAH YOU THINK?!” Jay yelled. He seemed to know what to do, as he took the clay and some tools and began carving the shape of a half of the charm, frustratingly digging out the curves and lines. “I mean, what if I’m not really the best. Actually, yeah, I’m not the best, it’s a fact. What am I even doing, I’m not even as strong as Cole, I’m not as smart as Zane. I don’t have near Kai’s looks… those do run in the family… and Lloyd’s leadership abilities and social skills are beyond my ability. And Nya, well she has like, so much of all of those skills. I’m just a rip-off compilation of everyone. And I mean, I have freckles. What cute person has freckles?”

Rhon was taken slightly aback. Very aback, actually. It had been ages since someone had ever expressed such deep negative feelings to her before, since she wasn’t exactly the best giver of advice. When her sister had yelled in distress, she had listened.

When it came to family, she’d still listen.

She made sure her nephew was done and looked at him. “What cute person has freckles?” she mumbled. “I’ll show you what cute person has freckles.”

“Huh?” Jay said. “Nevermind. Stop staring at me like that, you make eye contact as often as I enter a fight without fear.”

“Jesus,” she said, tilting her head and frowning. “You sure know how to put yourself down.”

He suddenly looked as if he regretted everything. His eyes widened in realization, he scrunched back guiltily, and he purposefully looked away, focusing back on his project and saying not another word.

“You know,” Rhon piped up quietly, “I may not be the prettiest woman alive… I mean I’m getting so OLD. And my eyes definitely show how tired I am, and I’m rarely seen smiling. And have you seen this slouch?”

He continued to pick delicate strokes into his clay. “Old, huh? Thirty is old…”

“But when I was a kid, and I grew up with your mother, I thought she was the prettiest person alive. Us Staticholders valued beauty and wealth, so the way I was raised should really show how right I was. And you’ve seen your father, yeah? Up on the big screen, bein’ that cool, hot mess, famous n’ all. And though not nice-looking myself, I have a say in the matter for sure. And what I will say is that you’re a perfect mix of the two. You are the hottest kid on this side of Ninjago.”

He smiled a little bit. “Yeah, yeah, I guess that makes me feel a little better.” Scree flew off his head and landed behind his carved cast, cooing at him.

“And even if you had the grossest, most repulsive face in the history of every creature alive, your heart of gold wins above everything. You care so much about all your friends, and definitely about your girlfriend, and that’s all that matters.”

“And don’t forget you, you crazy old geezer,” he snickered.

“Oh yeah? Call me a geezer one more time and I’ll kick your ass,” she laughed, standing up off her chair and plunging her hands into his hair, messing it up in the everlasting aunt move of rufflement.

“Geezer, geezer, geezer,” he prodded.

“Oh you’re just asking for it!” she yelled, messing it up even more.

They settled down and she patted his head in a finishing touch.

“Okay,” Rhon said, “One more thing. What the hell is up with the freckle thing?”

Her nephew chuckled and shyly answered, “Ah, yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you or anything..”

“Freckles, dear Jay, are like the beauty spots of the waking world. Nobody hates freckles. They are a damn blessing.” She tugged on the wraps on one of her arms and wrapped it off quickly.

“Holy shit,” he marveled, seeing her freckle-invaded arm.

Rhon gasped and smacked him upside the head.

“What was that for-?”

“You don’t just say shit like that!”

“But you do- you JUST-”

“Just because it’s me, doesn’t mean it should be you,” Rhon growled.

“Aw, come on,” Jay was smiling, an eyebrow narrowed. “I’m VERY grown-up.”

“The minute you say grown-up you lose the ability to BE grown up,” she commented back. “But anyway. How is your charm coming along?”

He picked it up and placed it in front of her. It was very intricately carved, a dragon with the dot in its jaw in line with the flow of the shape.

“Okay, good,” she said. “Now we have to put this in the oven so it hardens.”

~

Scree A. Buckbeak III soared above the monastery on his midday hunt. His independence from Rhon was only certain times, usually in the relaxation periods of the day. Relaxation for her, that is. He flapped down to perch on the roof. His claws scraped the fresh brick, still so smooth and perfect because of how recent the monastery had been rebuilt. He twitched his head sideways so that his eye faced the commotion of the humans below.

A newly-old-bodied Sensei Wu sipped some tea under the shade below. In the shade beside him, Rhon leaned against an outer wall. Wu put the teacup down and closed his eyes in a focused thought.

In the blazing sun, six brightly-dressed ninja were already standing aside, weary. They had already grown tired of their previous excitement for the brand new training equipment, and as it moved and mechanized in the searing heat, they whined.

“But Sensei,” Jay, Scree’s favorite, argued. “We’re already so… trained up and old and learned. Do we have to still..?”

“Yeah,” the red one agreed. “Isn’t there better things to fight around the island somewhere?”

The green one stepped forward, looking a little reluctant. “I’m afraid I have to agree with them, Sensei. Why train on useless things when we could be saving people and fighting crime out there?”

Wu opened one eye, gazing at the ninja. “I am quite aware that you wish to be the heroes of every crime in Ninjago,” he replied, “however not every nuisance needs a ninja.”

Scree turned his head and scratched the back of his neck with his claw. As the ninja began to train like police dogs the sun sunk lower into the afternoon, lengthening their shadows across the course.

He watched as Jay stumbled over to the girl, exhaustion evident in every one of his limbs. “The FSM is merciless,” he groaned.

She giggled and patted his back. “What happened to all that spunk you always had after hours of working?”

“It’s just not the same anymore,” he replied, smiling. “I don’t feel like a student anymore. This is basically a profession. We’re on the end of eighteen.”

“Come on,” she said, but her hopes looked like they fell a little. If Jay was the most positive ninja, him being negative usually meant a real emergency. “Just because we’re a lot older doesn’t mean we have to be so serious all the time. We can work without the weight of people’s lives or possessions in our hands, and just have fun like we used to.”

“That’s much deeper advice than I signed up for, Nya,” he joked. “I’m just… tired.”

“We always are, but we gotta keep pushing,” she responded. She lowered her voice. “Especially because of old guy and old guy junior over there.”

They both laughed, glancing over to where Wu and Lloyd were working on moves.

“Think they’ll care if we just run and ditch the rest of the day?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. We’ll be in trouble, big time,” Jay answered.

“What’s life without a little risk?”

“No, seriously. Let’s not.”

“Okay. Well in that case, let’s do what we have to!” she quickly kissed him on the cheek before jumping up and getting in a position with her weapon.

With renewed strength, Jay too jumped into action, facing her, ready.

The two worked like magic, in and out, back and forth. Fighting against each other was a rare thing for them now, that was sure. It was different from fighting alongside each other. They knew each other’s moves to well and rarely struck.

Scree hopped off the roof and flew away to hunt again.

    ~

After the clay had been heated, hardened, cooled, carved, and all the works, the gold had been poured and set out to cool the same, twice. Rhon slid the second golden half from the cast, handing it to Jay for him to ink in some black designs.

“Can’t believe you’re really growing up, buddy,” she commented as he focused on the intricate patterns.

“Don’t be nice, it’s creepy,” Jay said, but smiled. He put the inking instrument down and smiled as he looked at the two halves. He picked them both up in his hands, studying them as if he were an archaeologist studying an artifact. They were precious to him.

He looked up. “Thanks to the ends of Ninjago, aunt Rhon,” he said slightly nervously. “I’m actually really glad I was able to think of things and you know. Make it myself.”

“It’s all gotta be from the heart,” she pointed to her chest.

Scree soared in through a window and greeted Rhon with a nuzzle after landing on her shoulder. She patted his head.

“Now get outta here, kid. Show her how much she means to ya.”

[lnicol1990]

BatIM - Devil’s Deal - Part 2

For @squigglydigglydoo‘s Toon Henry AU.

You can read the first part here.

You can also read this on DeviantArt.

I hope you enjoy.

Henry was relieved that the hallway was relatively linear, except for the twists and turns of corners. Soon enough, he began to recognise the layout and could make a pretty good guess as to where his destination was.

In some ways, he wondered how he could have thought Joey would have gone anywhere else. Perhaps he was thinking the old director couldn’t have been that obvious. But, as he turned the last corner and slowly approached the room at the end of the hall, he had to sigh quietly as he realised that yes, the director really could be that obvious, that predictable.

There it was.

The Ink Machine.

And there was Joey, fiddling with the controls. The man was frantically trying to activate the beast of a contraption, but, no button he pressed, lever he pulled or valve he spun, nothing seemed to work. It looked like he had tried everything twice because the man suddenly hit the panel hard with a fist and swung a foot at its base, perhaps hoping to kick-start it a bit of violence.

“Having a little trouble?” Henry asked, watching his old friend jump into the air in surprise at his voice. He reached behind himself and pulled out the little, black book. “You always were useless with machines, always needing someone to hold your hand. Someone like me, or Norman… or a demon, in this case.”

He could see Joey eying the book, could see the calculating look. He calmly returned the machine’s manual to his Hammerspace. He wasn’t going to let his old friend get any ideas of fighting him for it and he watched the director’s attention snap back to him.

No… He was looking over Henry’s shoulder…

The animator didn’t even need to turn around. He knew who was there. He could feel the cold breath on the back of his neck, smell the stench of ink. His heart was beginning to hammer in his chest, making his blood –his ink– thunder in his ears.

He had to remain calm. Any sudden movements would undoubtedly spell his end. So, he breathed deeply –trying not to gag on the smell or wince when his side complained, and swallowed the lump in his throat before slowly turning around to face the demon.

While still terrifyingly deformed, Bendy did look better. Henry could still see only one beady eye, but the devil’s face –his whole body even– looked better. His limbs weren’t quite as stretched, his smile was better proportioned to the rest of his face and he didn’t seem to be dripping ink at all.

Even the malignant aura was gone.

Still, the animator backed away slowly from the half-toon monstrosity; he didn’t like the look in the other’s eye, still too wild, unhinged, to be dealt with safely. He ceased his retreat when he realised that he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Joey, and the pair of them shared a knowing, horrified look.

There was no running this time.

“Wha’s the matter?” Bendy asked with a dark chuckle. His voice was still distorted, though not as badly as it had been in Joey’s office. “Neither of ya are getting in on the fun. Oh Boris an’ Alice? We’ve been havin’ loads of fun. I didn’t know they could do half of them gags!”

Henry felt his stomach clench. Had something happened? Were the others…? Had Bendy burst them, or had they simply lost him in the corridors?

“I think it’s my turn, now.” The demon’s smile grew uncomfortably wide again as he reached behind himself. After a moment, a huge mallet was pulled out from behind the devil’s lanky form. He held it in both hands before turning to Henry. “Remember this, old man? How about we do it right, this time?”

Memories flashed through the animator’s mind. For a moment, he could feel the ropes that tied him to that blasted pole. For a moment, he could hear Sammy begging, for Bendy’s approval and then for his life. For a moment, he could he could see the mallet crushing the man, leaving behind nothing but a puddle of ink.

For a moment…

Movement tore him back to the present and he realised that Bendy was bearing down on him, mallet above his head and ready to strike. Instinct taking hold, Henry dove to a side as the hammer crashed into where he’d been standing moments ago. The landing was painful and jarred his side, it almost felt like the wounds had torn open.

The sound of laughter made him look back at Bendy. He was on one side of the demon while Joey was the other, clearly having jumped to safety from the devil’s attack as well. And, like Henry, the director hadn’t managed to land on his feet and was splayed out across the floor, thought he was quicker to sit up.

By the satisfied smirk on the distorted toon’s face, it had been the plan to split them up.

The devil turned slowly to advance on the director, who was trying to inch backwards. Joey scooted back on his rear for a few seconds before turning and scrambling away, only to meet a corner. He looked terrified when he turned back to the demon and all but curled in on himself in the corner, seemingly accepting death but fearful of the send-off.

All the while, Henry could do nothing but stare in horror. His mind was racing, trying to think of a way out –at least, a way that didn’t involve the brutal murder of at least one of them. He staggered to his feet and stumbled forward to the pair. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, to break the fixation between the two, but his collision with the floor had left him winded, and he was still gasping.

Suddenly, Bendy drew his mallet back in what was clearly a killing blow aimed for Joey’s head. The hammer swept past Henry, catching the animator squarely in the gut as it arced upwards. With little else in the way of options, the man held onto the oversized head for dear life as he was lifted off the ground at a fair speed. He felt his stomach lurch as the hammer dropped slightly and then came to a halt.

Finally looking beyond his immediate surroundings, Henry found himself staring at a perplexed and vaguely irritated ink demon –who had clearly startled slightly at the sudden added weight. For a moment, Bendy did nothing but stare. Then, the toon altered his grip on the mallet’s shaft and shook the hammer in an attempt to dislodge the man.

And he shook it hard.

Henry felt his hands slip from the force, but miraculously, he remained attached to the hammer’s head. Without a second thought, he inched his fingers to a more secure hold and wrapped his legs around the mallet, practically tying himself to the oversized weapon.

It was only once he was certain that he was immoveable that he wondered if that had been a good plan.

Indeed, Bendy had waited –almost patiently– for him to make his play, and now huffed exaggeratedly at his choice of action. And without so much as a second thought, the distorted toon continued to mercilessly shake the mallet. The ink demon’s smile almost looked playful for a moment.

After that, everything in Henry vision blurred. The force of the shaking jostled his entire body, returning the sense of nausea to full force. And then he felt it go further. He felt his body lose definition, only regaining semblance at the highest and lowest peaks of the shake, which was now reaching inhuman speeds. Then, his arms and legs began to blur and merge, his upper and lower torso distorted until it was practically flipped, and his head and face stretched to three times its natural length. And finally, his vision returned, juddering to a half dozen positions.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Up.

And.

Down.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t close his eyes. He didn’t even think he could yell out. All he could do was hold on and wait for Bendy to stop and for the gag to end.

Because this was a gag, he realised –not a very fun one from his perspective, but a gag none the less. And from his knowledge as an animator, he understood what his body was doing, what he was going through: his body was smearing to keep up with Bendy’s antics. It wasn’t what he’d call a pleasant experience at all, the feeling of his whole body melting into a blur, disassociating from his real proportions even more than it had to already in this half-toon dimension…

And then it was over. The demon stopped shaking the hammer and the animator felt his body snap back into proper form. His legs, however, felt as solid as water and his grip was as strong as a new-born kitten. As such, he slid off the mallet and landed in an undignified heap on the floor, with the world not quite done bouncing up and down in front of him.

“I… did not order a smear… with that gag,” he groaned painfully. He barely had the strength to lift his arm up in protest, his finger swaying as he pointed up to the ceiling. “Waiter… check please.”

Henry let his arm fall to his side. He lay prone on the floor, unable to do anything but breathe. That gag had been too much –far too much– for him. Too many rules broken, too unreal. It felt like if he didn’t just take a moment to breathe and let his equilibrium restore itself, he’d burst, fall back into the ink and probably never have the right sense of self to pull himself out again.

He could only barely hear Bendy laughing beside him, though the sound was surprisingly helpful. It was real, and it was grounding. And as his vision returned to normal, he saw the ink demon wipe a tear from his one visible eye.

“Man, Henry, you’re a riot!” The distorted toon chortled. “I didn’t know ya could smear. Yer practically a full, bone fide toon!”

Bendy’s chuckles eased as he appraised the animator more carefully. As his eye raked over the man, the demon almost looked concerned for him.

“Although… I think that last one may have been a bit much for ya.” The toon paused and turned back to Joey, who hadn’t moved from the corner he was stuck in. A wicked grin swept across Bendy’s face as he turned back to the prone figure at his feet. “How about ya take a breather, old man. And while yer at it, I can finish up my business and then we can go back to shooting gags and havin’ fun! That sound good?”

Bendy didn’t give Henry a chance to answer and once again began stalking over to Joey, mallet in hand and a murderous glint in his eye. The animator could hear his old boss whimper as his creation drew closer and closer.

The old man knew he had to do something; he had to stop the toon from doing the one thing he knew would destroy the little devil and leave this monstrosity behind. He had to do something –anything– but his body still couldn’t move. But, if he couldn’t do something physically, then… what else could he do?

Henry glanced over desperately to Joey as the director shrank even further into himself as Bendy raised the mallet, ready to strike.

“I’m… the Dancing Demon,” Henry croaked out, barely able to make it sound song-like. God… even trying to speak made him feel like he was going to throw up –or burst. But, if it did the trick, then he could suffer it. He took a few more gasping breaths. “Watch me twirl… and hop… and spin.”

Bendy had paused, frozen in mid-strike. Then, ever so slowly, he turned his head back to Henry and just looked at him. After a moment, he straightened up, facing the animator fully, and dropped the mallet head to the floor with a thud, leaning against the handle.

“Really? That’s what’s ya going for?” he asked incredulously. The demon shook his head. “I mean, if ya really wanted to go for a musical number, yer could at least put some effort into it. ‘Cause I know you can sing.”

“Well, why don’t give it a go… if you think you can do better,” Henry challenged weakly, still struggling to breathe.

“Like I would fall for that,” the distorted toon laughed, in a way that almost sounded good-natured to the animator. Bendy shook his head slowly. “I know what yer thinkin’. Yer thinkin you can trick me into a musical number and run off with ol’ Joey here. Well, it ain’t gonna–”

Henry frowned in confusion as the ink demon stopped midsentence, before hearing floorboard creak. While awkward from his position on the floor, he could see the director behind Bendy on his hands and knees. Clearly he had decided now was the perfect time to try and crawl for freedom, not accounting for creaky floorboards.

Without a second’s hesitation, Bendy reached behind himself and pulled out a large pitchfork from his Hammerspace. Effortlessly, he threw the weapon at Joey, who didn’t have time to flinch, and caught the director by the neck between two of the long, sharp prongs as the tips embedded themselves in the wall.

“Stay put Joey, I ain’t done wit you, yet!” Bendy’s voice distorted terribly as he shouted at the now pinned man. His ink flared up in rage before calming as he turned back to Henry. “Now, what was I sayin’? Oh yeah! You can’t trick me into a musical number.”

“Is that so?” The old man muttered quietly to himself. With effort, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and positioned himself to lean against a nearby pillar. His vision swirled and he took a few seconds to breathe the nausea away before looking back to the toon, who was watching him warily. He smirked at the demon. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to sing it then… off-key.”

“Oh, don’t you dare.” Bendy growled menacingly, his eye narrowing on the animator.

Henry, however, simply smiled at the toon, unfazed by the veiled threat. He cleared his throat as best he could, ignored the feeling of inky bile that kept wanting to rise, and began to sing. If he was being honest with himself, it was probably the best bad performance he’d ever done. He made his notes uncomfortably high, cringingly flat and everything in between. He paused for too long and then not long enough, only barely keeping to a beat, albeit a slower one than the song actually had.

All the while, he kept his eyes trained on Bendy, watching the distorted toon squirm and flinch. He watched gloved hands clench and unclench, but never relaxing as much as before. He watched inky skin bubble uncomfortably. He watched the ink demon almost curl into himself, hands at his head, trying to block out Henry’s atrocious rendition of his debut song.

“Enough!” Bendy roared after the first four lines, almost exploding from the ball he’d been curling into. He stormed into the centre of the room and paced in a hyperactive way. “It don’t go like that, old man! You know that’s not how it goes!”

Henry didn’t respond, letting the demon rant at him, explaining the ins and outs of a musical number and the finer details of a bad singing gag.

“You wanna know how the song goes?” the toon finally challenged. “You wanna know? It goes like this!”

“I’m the Dancing Demon; watch me twirl and hop and spin! I’m quick to give a smile; you should see my happy grin.”

As Bendy sang –perfectly, Henry noted happily– the warped toon also began to move, taping his feet and grooving to the music they both knew went with the song. And as the demon danced, his body began to shrink and his limbs shortened. Slowly, little by little, the distortions lessened and the little toon Henry knew and loved slowly started to reform before his eyes.

“I’ll beam from here to Sunday; and I’ll dance the whole time, too. ‘Cause I’m the Dancing Demon, and I’m having fun with–”

Bendy stilled, his back towards Henry. The little devil didn’t move for what felt like an age before slowly turning round and facing the animator.

He looked normal to Henry, apart from one last bit: his eyes. The toon’s eyes were still wild, beady and off-model. Over the last few days, he could almost say he’d gotten used to seeing his creation in this state –almost. Previously, Bendy had always been angry whenever the animator saw that particular face, but now… Now was different.

“I… I don’t get it,” Bendy whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “Why? Why go through all this trouble… for him? Yer almost fallin’ apart, ol’ man. Why would ya do that ta yerself?”

“Who said I did this for Joey?” Henry chuckled weakly as he straightened himself against the pillar he was leaning against. He watched the little devil stare back at him, not understanding, looking more lost than he had during the acetone incident. It broke the man’s heart. “I couldn’t let you go through with it. You wouldn’t have come back to us, if you had.”

“Come… back?” the toon echoed. His eyes dashed wildly in every direction, seeing nothing, as he was clearly trying to catch his racing thoughts. “I– I was– I was gonna… was gonna…”

The animator said nothing. There was nothing he could say, he knew that. All he could do was sit there, letting his own body finish settling back into some semblance of solid matter while Bendy sorted himself out.

A quick glance at Joey told him the director wasn’t going to be a problem in these next few moments. The older man had stilled completely, neck still caught between the pitchfork prongs, and seemed barely able to lift his gaze from the few inches past his feet.

Henry turned back to Bendy when the toon collapsed into an undignified heap, sitting down with his legs out in awkward angles. Even from where he was still resting, he could see the little devil shaking. He frowned worriedly as he noticed the demon’s ink beginning to run and bubble.

“I was gonna… why was I gonna… Toons– Toons don’t do that!” Bendy shrieked in horror. He giggled –quietly at first, but the sound quickly got louder and more panicked, more hysterical. The toon held his head both hands, his grip looked so tight Henry was sure the ink demon was hurting himself.

And then Bendy went silent. His hands dropped to the ground as he finally looked back to the animator.

“I ain’t really a toon, am I?” The little devil’s voice was soft and level as he spoke. His face was blank as he stared at the old man. “I’m real, like you. I’m– I’m a real demon. I…”

Bendy trailed off, though Henry suspected the little guy had nothing more to say. He quietly watched the ink creature wrestle with this newfound realisation, waiting for the questions he knew were coming.

But after a few moments of silence, the animator noticed the demon was changing again, elongating… distorting. But unlike previously, where there’d always been a toony element to his body, the ink was turning sharp –bony, almost. Protrusions started forming at the devil’s ribs, hips and spine, while ink began to creep down his face again.

Henry had to do something.

“Why can’t you be both?” he asked, his voice gentle. A rush of relief flooded him as he saw Bendy pause, his new, terrifying transformation frozen in the moment. When the demon looked him in confusion, he shrugged nonchalantly before continuing, internally grateful that he was still being listened to. “Real… Toon… Who says you have to be one or the other?”

“But… how can I be both?”

Bendy’s question almost felt rhetorical, as if there wasn’t meant to be an answer. His tone certainly implied that he felt there wasn’t one to be given.

It made Henry chuckle.

“Don’t you get it, punk?” He smiled with the insult he’d once hurled at the toon before him –an insult he now said with affection. “You’ve always been both; you just never noticed it.”

“But I can’t be two things!” the toon protested.  He pointed a gloved hand at the animator, which was slowly reverting back to its on-model appearance. “You’re real and you’re not two things.”

“Of course I am.” Henry frown, a little confused as to how Bendy had reached that assumption. “I’m real, but I’m also a toon –at least, for now. But I’m more than that, too. I’m an artist, an ex-soldier, a mechanic working in a garage, and the unofficial handyman of my apartment block. And, I’m lots of different things to different people.”

“That’s not the same. That ain’t what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Yes it is. No one is just one thing to everyone,” the animator explained. He raised a hand and gestured to the toon. “Yes, you’re a real demon… but you’re a cartoon too. You’re Boris’ best friend but Alice’s boyfriend. And Sammy might have worshiped you as a god, but Suzie thought you were evil incarnate. And Joey…”

Henry trailed off, glancing in the direction of his old friend. The director tensed at his mention and finally looked up at his ex-colleague. Joey’s expression was surprisingly calm, with no trace of the previous distain he’d held towards Henry.

The man looked like he was waiting for his damnation.

“Joey… You were his every hope and dream,” Henry said finally.

His words didn’t feel enough to him, an inadequate description, but it was probably the best he could manage. Bendy seemed to accept it, though, by the way he was absentmindedly nodding his head.

“What about you?” the demon asked after a couple of seconds of contemplation. “What am I to you?”

“You’ve been quite a lot of things to me.” Henry dodged the question, unsure of how much he wanted to admit. However, the desperate look in the toons eyes made him sigh in defeat. He glanced over to a tattered poster of the little devil, and sighed again, reminiscently this time. “I can still remember showing Joey my first drawing of you, telling him that… this is a character people are going to love. And I was right, you were an instant hit.”

He paused, once again hesitant. Looking over to Bendy, he realised that the toon closer than he had been previously. The little devil hadn’t changed the way he sat, as if he’d simply scooted or dragged himself across the floor towards him, inching closer to the animator. Although he had frozen the moment the old man had looked at him.

Well, if he didn’t want Henry to watch him…

“I think your debut was the proudest moment of my life.” He looked back to the old poster. “And now, I’m here and… and I don’t know. I created you in the first place, so I guess I should think of you as my child, but– but that doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe if I’d been here thirty years ago, I could think like that, but it’s far too late now. I’m far too late for that sort of thing. But I still feel responsible for you, and the others. I feel responsible for making sure you’re all okay, so… what does that make me? I don’t know.”

From the corner of his eye, Henry could see that Bendy was an arm’s length away now. He could reach out and grab the toon, draw him into a hug, if he wanted to –God, he wanted to. But he stayed still and kept his hands to himself, feeling that the little devil wasn’t ready for that sort of contact, not yet, at least.

“I suppose we could agree to be… some abstract idea of a parent and child, or maybe a ward and guardian.” He turned back to Bendy, who was once again on-model except for his eyes. The animator gently reached out to the toon, stopping just short of the demon and offering and open hand. He told himself not to take it personally when his old creation flinched. “How about we go for friends, for now? ‘Cause the beauty of being real is that we can always change our minds later if we don’t think that fits.”

Henry waited as Bendy looked at him, focus bouncing between the animator’s face and his outstretched hand. Slowly, the toon started to calm down properly, his eyes turning from wild and beady to the regular pie cutout look –albeit half the size they should be and still with an off-model ring.

Eventually, Bendy took Henry’s hand, the weight behind the gesture tangible. He held the toon’s gloved hand tightly for a moment before releasing it. He rose to his feet –unsteady for a moment– and gently helped the little devil stand as well. And then, with a protective, comforting hand on the back of the demon’s head, he guided them out of the room and off to find their friends.

Joey was left behind, forgotten.

---***---

Henry looked up from the book, watching the toons quietly talk amongst themselves. It had taken him and Bendy half an hour to find Boris and Alice, and then another half hour to calm Bendy down again.

At least this time, it had been tears over scaring them.

Henry sighed and looked back down at the page he’d been reading. The Illusion of Living was far from the most engaging book he’d ever read, but he was glad that he had done it. It had been… informative, in more ways than one.

“Somethin’ up Henry?” Boris’s voice made the old man startle slightly, unaware that the toons had been keeping an eye on him, like he had them.

Wordlessly, the old man gestured for them to join him.

“Before I start, did you want to look through this, Bendy?” Henry asked, offering the black book to the toon. When the little devil looked at him confusedly, the animator grimaced slightly. “It’s Joey diary, for lack of a better word. It’s got all his dealings in there.”

“You mean his deals with me,” Bendy clarified, his voice flat. The toon stared at the book for a moment before shaking his head, pushing the book back towards Henry. “Whoever I was, then, I ain’t him now. Besides, I don’t think I’d trust Joey to be very fair in his, uh… description of me.”

“Fair enough.” Henry nodded understandingly, opening the book up again to the page he’d been reading. “Well, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you three. I don’t think Joey was bluffing when he said we couldn’t leave.”

“What?!”

“Are you serious?!”

“No!”

The toons stared at Henry, aghast at the declaration. As they moved their focus from him to one another, the animator could see horror taking root in their expressions.

“From the deals he made with… the demon before Bendy, it doesn’t look like he ever made an agreement for this place to have a way out,” the old man explained, catching the toons’ attention again. “But, we may be able to work around it.”

“How’d ya figure that?” Boris asked, tilting his head.

Henry didn’t answer. Instead, he looked pointedly at the smallest toon and watched Bendy’s face fall in understanding.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, old man.” The demon frowned worriedly, shaking his head. He fidgeted with his hands, a nervous habit Henry hadn’t seen from the toon before. “I– I don’t remember any of the deals I made with Joey. I’m not sure I could change them… without breakin’ something.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to change the deal you made with Joey,” Henry assured him. He knelt down and laid a hand on the little toon’s shoulder. “I think it would be our best bet if we made our own deal.”

“A- Are ya sure?” Bendy continued to look uncomfortable at the idea. “I mean, I don’t even know how it works. I– I don’t remember any of it. I just know toon stuff, not any of this occult shtick!”

“Easy punk, calm down.” Henry moved his hand to the demon’s head, noticing the little devil was starting to hyperventilate. He gently stroked the toon’s forehead with his thumb, watching him sympathetically. “I know this is a lot to take in. God knows I haven’t; I’m just rolling with it at this point. But if we want out of here, I think this is our only option.”

Bendy continued to breathe heavily for the next few moments. When he finally did start to calm, the animator could see the toon’s thoughts were racing, perhaps trying to find an alternative –any alternative. Eventually, the demon closed his eyes and, after a deep breath in, he nodded.

“Do you know how we do it?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking solemnly at the old man.

Click for  Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[sol1056]

hrm, I have several asks that all imply a similar premise in their questions, so I’m answering that particular part of those asks, all in one, here. 

and the premise is that I hated S6; but truthfully,I’d be reluctant to say that. Instead, I’d say I found its flaws even more glaring thanks to contrast with parts that I did like, but that what goes in the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ columns depends on the hat I’m wearing when I’m asked. 

See, if I were to break out the various levels in which I consume any story, in any media, it’d be something like this: as a writer, as a student of visual media, as an anthropologist, as a technologist, as a philosopher... and that’s not counting the various other things I love that -- if reflected well in a story -- will make me happy: engineering, mechanics, architecture, intercultural communications.

behind the cut: an example in how those parts of my brain react, and a quick rundown of the real issue of the season: failure to be inspired evenly across the character spectrum. 

Take a scene like the one where the castle is hijacked. I don’t know for sure, since @ptw30​ is too kind to smack the shit out of me, but I had to have sounded like a chaotic jumble in reactions when Pidge realizes there’s a virus, tries to barricade it in, discovers it’s got a counter-attack tailored to defeat her defenses, and then must use her stored shutdown systems as final defense. 

writer brain: okay, the series of events is kinda cliched but it’s handled solidly, moving at a good clip, aaaand yep there’s the backlash, aaaaand yep, the final pivot, dialogue is jargon-heavy which reduces tension slightly but that emotional reaction beat at the end, good job there

visual brain: not bad, kinda predictable angle, oh, that’s a nice shot, good grief hate that cliche, glasses do not go full reflective like that, ohh that’s a different angle, lovely contrast with the character’s words, not earth-shattering but solid composition

technology brain: FKN STOP IT THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS NO OMFG JUST STOP WTF OF COURSE THERE’S DEFENSES WTF WERE YOU BORN YESTERDAY FKN FIND THE VULNERABILITY NO THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS NO WONDER PPL NEVER GET WHAT WE DO GADAMMMIT ANKERLNSDFOIXCVUDX OMFG

mechanics brain: uhm, does this castle have no isolated systems? did no one in all this time ever look at the castle and say, gee, all of this is connected by a single computer system and boy maybe we should, like, isolate this shit, where are my physical real-world levers and a big red button that will physically break connections in a case like this wtf

architecture brain: my HOUSE has a shut-off valve so I can turn off all water to outside spigots when there’s a chance of freezing, without putting interior water pipes at risk, what genius built this castle and never thought to do the same for all their crucial and vulnerable systems?

philosophy brain: is this meant to shut the castle down, or an act intended to make the castle explode, how to draw a clear conclusion as to the moral reaction to such an act, ramping up danger gives impression that purpose is simply shut-down, as opposed to going for the jugular by taking out life-support vs turning castle into bomb, (technology brain interrupts to say FKN CASCADE FAILURE DAMMIT) and reaction is good but lacking something (writer brain pops in to say but emotional beat! we have emotional beat!) bc still not enough to leap from here to seeing friend as enemy, where is the ethical decision point to justify murder in self-defense

...you can see there’s a lot going on in any one scene, in my brain. 

But that also means I can analyze anything -- from an entire story down to a single dialogue exchange or image -- from one perspective and find it satisfying. And there’s no real contradiction imo to turn around and in the very next analysis put on a different hat and be frothing at the mouth over all the failures and numerous flaws. 

No work is perfect, just as no audience is a monolith and neither are any of the individual members of that audience. Every single one of us has experiences across many areas and will bring all of them to bear on our enjoyment of a story. Up to and including sometimes willfully shutting down parts when they get too noisy -- like the way I have to grit my teeth through stories showing tech stuff because visual media pretty much never gets it right. 

Here’s the bottom line, though, and the one thing that will overrule every other complaint (not neutralize those complaints, mind you, only backburner them in comparison): 

do I give a damn about the characters?

As long as the answer is yes, I’ll be riveted, regardless of the goings-on. And that’s where S6 was a fascinating object lesson in how my reactions to some characters have changed, thanks to events in S3/S4/S5. 

I honestly skipped every scene with Coran fixing the castle. I don’t hate him; I just didn’t find him half as compelling as the other plot threads. 

I tuned out roughly half of what Pidge had to say, because her descent into amorality (and the lack of ever being called on it) has turned her from one of my favorites into one who doesn’t deserve my time. 

I only gave Allura half my attention, b/c her deus ex machina in S5 is too OP and that takes away a huge amount of risk. She’s a walking powerhouse now which means a lot less at stake, and what could’ve been a truly dramatic moment (Lance’s near-death) had no drama for me b/c of course Allura can make it all better. (Plus the compressed pacing in that episode meant the story ran roughshod over that reaction beat.)

I skipped Lance’s scenes once I figured out they’d amount to him pining away (but not actually doing anything about it) -- once again, everyone else is working hard and Lance is wrapped up in himself, and I’m tired of it. Get over it, act on it, move on, I don’t care, just shut up. 

I paid attention to Lotor until he went over the edge. I’ve heard enough descent-into-madness speeches from fictional sociopaths, and he didn’t even present a good enough motivation to make his actions riveting. 

Uh, did Hunk have anything to say? Other than doing engineering stuff in the first episode... frankly, a chunk of which I skipped ‘cause I’d seen that four-minute teaser. Too long, enough I had no interest in sitting through it again. 

If Keith, Krolia, or Shiro was on the screen, I was on it. If it was the clone, though, I kinda half-listened. I wanted that one storyline resolved already, so I could decide whether to stop caring for any of these three, too. 

I paid attention to the generals... until Axca revealed she’d been working with Lotor all along, and then I realized the story had been lying to me. I do not forgive that. When Zethrid and Ezor shrugged over previous betrayals (Narti) and agreed to work with Lotor, I stopped paying attention to them, too. I’m here for characters, not plot devices. 

Also, Romelle was left-field unforeshadowed swerve exposition fairy with an accent almost as annoying as no-name-father’s attempt at, uh, idk what that accent was (but goddammit it hurt to listen to, so I just muted him when I saw his mouth move). Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll drop Romelle off at the nearest mall so she can go buy herself a reason to be in the story. 

And lastly, wtf was that about the castle’s destruction, whhhhyyyyy did we get a larger reaction space for AN EMPTY SHIP than we did for, oh, say, LOSING THE CLONE who’d been part of the team for how many months? wtf was that. 

If you look up at my list of reactions to the castle-virus point, you’ll notice that there aren’t any mentions of personal stakes or characters. At no point was I thinking, oh no will everyone be okay (or even oh no not the poor castle) -- because any remaining connection with the core cast was tenuous by that point, at best. I had minimal to no emotional reaction to Pidge’s final emotional beat, because I’ve lost all respect for her as a character, so I don’t care anymore whether she cares or not. 

Which means that there will be things -- depending on the hat -- that I either have found, or may be shown (via other peoples’ analyses, usually) are worth my time and/or have a reason to be there and/or make me reconsider. But without that connection to the characters, at least half the story is just going to go by at arms-length for me, now, and that’s a lot harder to come back from, all things being equal. 

[cbhunter494]

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebook

How to Lead: The definitive guide to effective leadership (4th ed.) by Jo Owen. Based on original research into some of the world’s best organisations, How to Lead cuts right through all the myths and mysteries to get straight to the heart of what it really takes to motivate, inspire and deliver results. How to Lead: The definitive guide to effective leadership - Kindle edition by Owen, Jo. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Use features like bookmarks, note taking and highlighting while reading How to Lead: The definitive guide to effective leadership. Jo Owen eBooks Epub and PDF format Jo Owen eBooks. How to Lead: What the best leaders know, do and say. Pearson Business, August 2012. Jo.owen@leadershippartnership.com A unique and brilliant combination of authoritative guidance and stimulating and entertaining advice, How to Leadhelps you resolve some common challenges that every leader will face:. Why should anyone want to follow you as a leader?

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebook Reader

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebook Cover

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How To Lead Jo Owen Ebooks

The one-sentence summary

Successful leaders will take on risk, change and ambiguity.

WHAT THE BOOK SAYS

This book contains all the important stuff about leading well: motivating people, building networks, selling ideas, influencing people, giving feedback, evaluating people, and learning to be lucky

It takes you through the foundations, practice and mastering of leadership, and makes the point that leaders aren’t necessarily at the top of organisations

The main qualities fall into focusing on people,being positive, and being professional (that means having loyalty, honesty, reliability, solutions, and energy)

Leading from the middle involves finding your way through the matrix. Those who fall by the way are:

the expert (technically competent, but that’s all) cave dweller (territorial) politician (political) boy scout (naïve) autocrat (acts as though they already are a leader)

WHAT’S GOOD ABOUT IT

A survey of 1,000 leaders reveals the qualities they look for in emerging leaders:

adaptability, self-confidence, proactivity, reliability, and ambition

Luck is normally down to practice, persistence, and perspective

There are good quotes to be had here:

“ Many sins are forgivable, but disloyalty is not one of them.”

“An organisation full of Ghengis Khan wannabes is unlikely to be a happy place.”

“It is possible to learn leadership. If you know how to, you are well on the way to success.”

“The successful leader will take on risk, change and ambiguity.”

There is an interesting checklist of what people want from a good boss:

Shows an interest in my career

I trust them – they are honest with me

I know where we are going and how to get there

I am doing a worthwhile job

I am recognized for my contribution

WHAT YOU HAVE TO WATCH

Not much. This is a well-organised and thoughtful book on leadership

MORE DETAIL

A survey of 1,000 leaders reveals the qualities great leaders need: 3 Ps leading to a fourth:

·People focus

·Positivity

·Professionalism…leading to Performance.

He distinguishes between emerging leaders, leading from the middle, and those at the top.

Leadership foundations

Find the right boss; always deliver; no surprises; ditch the excuses; adapt your style; have an alternative; learn; do what is right; size the prize; understand costs and risks of decisions; follow strategy and values; build consensus; flip a coin – don’t hide, decide; motivate; set direction; communicate; fight the right battles

Towards leadership mastery

Start at the end; take responsibility; raise the bar; drive to action; act the part; keep on learning; set expectations; have a plan; shape your team; set your style; protect your territory; deliver results; craft an agenda

Ineffective leadership behaviours

Ego; no emotional quotient; focus solely on expertise; naïve about networks; hires weak clones; threatened by talent; poor delegation; problem focused; can’t do approach; retreats into comfort zone; political; keen on status.

I’ve been tasked with ‘learning to lead’ for the remaining weeks of this term, inamongst the other things I’m doing. To that end, I’m reading a range of books and articles, watching videos and generally trying to learn from the experts. 🙂

Looking on Amazon, there were lots of 5-star reviews for a book by Jo Owen entitled How to Lead: what you actually need to do to manage, lead and succeed. I’ve just finished the first chapter entitled ‘Focusing on People’ and it has lots of good ideas and advice crammed into it.

Here’s my notes and reflections on what I’ve read:

Leaders are made, not born

Owen says three principles underpin his book:

Everyone can lead

You can load the dice in your favour (but there’s no magic recipe)

You can learn to be a leader

Leadership is not about the position you are in but about the way you behave. Leaders need followers, otherwise they are not leaders! There is no particular intelligence requirement for leadership, but instead some core behaviours:

ability to motivate others

vision

honesty & integrity

decisiveness

ability to handly crises

‘Performance’ is not mentioned in the above, but naturally flows from them.

You don’t need to know it all

Some leaders suffer from ‘altitude sickness’ in that they can’t cope at a higher level when they’ve been successful further down the hierarchy. Sometimes this is due to a perception that you need to ‘have all the skills’ immediately. Instead, good leaders radiate self-confidence and build on their strengths whilst realising that learning is a lifelong process.

Despite being an author and consultant himself, Owen says that people learn from lived experience, not primarily from books, manuals and conferences. That being said, these can help you understand your experiences and build upon them.

Focusing on people

Good leaders focus on other people, not themselves. There are three major elements to this:

Decentring – knowing yourself and how you affect others

Influencing people – selling ideas to them

Managing upwards – influencing the boss

In order to deal with other people you need to know what makes them tick. Owen suggests trying to ascertain their Myers-Briggs personality type. Regular readers will remember that I wrote about such tests back in a post entitled “You can tell a lot about someone from what they’re like.” You don’t have to use the Myers-Briggs indicators – you can use your own such as ‘big picture’ vs. ‘detail’. Understanding what makes your colleagues, and especially your boss, tick helps you press the right buttons.

Selling ideas

In order to influence others, you need to focus on the third of three levels that are naturally used when you try and sell an idea or object to someone:

Features – the innate characteristics of the idea or object

Benefits – the features people want from the idea or object

Hopes & dreams – what can be achieved through the idea or object

By tapping into peoples’ hopes and dreams you can motivate and inspire them to action. Owen recommends reading Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, if you haven’t already. I listened to it as an audiobook a while back, but will be purchasing the book soon!

What makes people tick

Owen, rather pessimistically, asserts that fear, greed and idleness makes people tick. These can be seen as ‘influencing levers’. He gives some advice as to how you use these levers:

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebook Reader

Fear – ‘de-risk’ ideas by, for example, running pilot projects.

Greed – be clear r.e. the WIFM? (What’s In It For Me?) factor. This has as much to do with recognition and status as money.

Idleness – find a way in which the idea supports the other person’ agenda. This will motivate them to action.

Owen gives some great advice taken from the world of sales. At the end of the meeting, give the person or group of people to whom you are pitching a choice between two positive ideas. It takes effort to reject the idea completely, so people will usually choose one of your two option, leading to success on your part!

The unforgivable sin

After interviewing 700 leaders, Owen came up with a list of the following traits that they are looking for in emergent leaders:

adaptability

self-confidence

proactivity

reliability

ambition

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebook Cover

Most mistakes are rectifiable and forgivable, but the one unforgivable sin for them is disloyalty. As one put it, ‘Don’t outshine me, don’t outsmart me and don’t outflank me.’ Wise words indeed. :-p

Influencing the boss

Although you are not usually in control of who is your boss, you can still influence your relationship with them. Influencing your boss, says Owen, has three elements:

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebook Free

Finding the right boss (find a sponsor more senior to your immediate boss and make yourself useful to them)

Delivering the right results (a matter of style and substance – use the ‘style compass’ on your boss and what your ‘must-win’ battles are)

Having the right behaviours (you have to adapt to your bosses’ style as they won’t adapt to yours. Make sure they know what you’re good at, what your capacity is, and what your progress is)

Conclusion

How To Lead Jo Owen Ebooks

I enjoyed the first chapter of How to Lead– it was general enough to be applicable without being vague, and opened my eyes to strategies that could work well in my new position. 😀

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