#the decoy is only still because he is taped in place

[questforyellow]

Smoon's cousin Wiggly-Inflatable-Fan-Man is the real mvp.

Fanart for @dad-sun-and-moon , specifically the Baby Greggy AU

(click to see full pictures)

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

Yesterday, Lynn and I went on what we call the Turtle Walk to get our steps in for the day. The Turtle walk is a stroll around a local man made pond which is chock full of turtles. On an average lap of a turtle walk, we may see anywhere between a few turtles up to as many as a couple dozen. Each lap around the pond is a third of a mile.

Before we hit the turtle walk, we stopped into the grand opening of a brand new Donut shoppe at the end of our street. We ordered a donut apiece. Then we went to Starbuck's and ordered a couple of macchiatos. We decided to save the donuts until we got home. We took the macchiatos with us.

There weren't a lot of turtles on the shore but we saw on of our favorites, an old guy with a recognizable flap in his carapace. We hadn't gone so far as to name any of the turtles but if were were to name one, it would be this one who we'd call either Flipper or Flapper. As we continued on our walk, we decided that we were in fact going to name the turtle either Flipper or Flapper. We chose Flapper because Flipper sounded too much like a dolphin, too much like a mammal.

About a hundred yards past Flapper, we spotted three geese on the path. I'm not a big fan of geese. They always seem so pissed off. Plus these were the Canadian geese who are starting to migrate into North Carolina. They don't belong here. The turtles belong here. The geese belong in Canada.

I know. I get it. I'm not a xenophobe nor a nationalist.Many species of wildlife have specific migratory patterns and habitats, I reminded myself that bird migration is a natural phenomenon, and various factors can influence their movements and ranges. Canadian geese are known for their long-distance migrations, and they have adapted to different environments over time. While they may not be native to North Carolina, they have become a common sight in many areas due to their ability to adapt to a variety of habitats.

Still, I don't appreciate the goose crap all over the path. Nor do I like the way they goose step around as if they owned the place.

We could use some motion activated devices, some reflective tape, some tall grass or some decoy animals to keep these geese away from the pond. Motion-Activated Devices: Motion-activated devices emit sounds, lights, or other stimuli when they detect movement. These can startle geese and make them uncomfortable, encouraging them to leave the area.

Reflective Tape: Reflective tape, hung in strips or attached to stakes, can create a visual disturbance that may deter geese. The tape reflects light and moves with the wind, which can make geese uneasy.

Tall Grass: Planting tall grass near the pond can provide a natural barrier that makes the area less inviting to geese. They prefer open spaces where they have a clear line of sight for potential predators.

Decoy Animals: Decoy animals, like plastic owls or coyotes, can be strategically placed to mimic the presence of natural predators. This can make geese think twice about staying in the area.

Not only are they droppers but they're aggressive and territorial especially when they're breeding. As we approached the geese, they looked horny as hell especially the big ugly one and I wished we had taken precautions to make their little love pond a bit more unappealing but hey here we are.

The geese saw me coming and as we got closer I got the vibe that the geese didn't appreciate more anymore than I appreciated them. I have been attacked by a goose before and it's no fun. The lead goose in particular seemed offended by my presence. He took a step towards me. We looked at each other eye to eye. I got goose bumps. The goose didn't get goose bumps. Birds don't get goose bumps, mammals do. Flapper wouldn't get goose bumps . Flipper might. Flipper's a mammal so they claim.

We tiptoed past the geese. No harm no foul. I said, "Hey Lynn, I got goose bumps." I showed her the contractions of arrector pili muscles at the base of the hair follicles on my forearms. She thought the whole thing was hilarious and just another indication of how scared I was of anything. I assured her that I wasn't afraid. The goosebumps were a part of my fight or flisght reaction to a threat. I reminded her of how I would protect her if the geese started attacking her like I always did in her dreams or my dreams of her dreams. At least I didn't do a McConnel freeze.

We took three more laps around the pond. My macchiatto was a memory by the second lap. Enjoyable as it is strolling with a macchiato, it took away from the hyper vigilance I needed to protect us from the geese.

Lynn imagined a scenario headline. "Huntesrville woman attacked by Canadian goose. Husband falls into pond and drowns."

I larfed sorta.

By the time we passed the geese for the third time, they had apparently decided that I was not threat although I was still an asshole which is exactly what I was thinking about them.

We got our steps in for the day and it wasn't even noon yet.

When we got to our kitchen table we attacked our donuts. They didn't fight back. Lynn only ate half of hers. She'd save the other half for tomorrow.

XXXXXXXXX

Goosebumps, also known as piloerection or pilomotor reflex, are the small, raised bumps on the skin that occur when the muscles at the base of hair follicles contract. These bumps are more noticeable in some animals, like geese, where they make the feathers stand on end. In humans, goosebumps are a vestigial reflex that serves a different purpose.

Goosebumps are triggered by various stimuli, such as cold temperatures or strong emotions like fear or excitement. The reflex occurs when the tiny muscles at the base of hair follicles, known as arrector pili muscles, contract. When these muscles contract, they cause the hair follicles to stand upright, which, in turn, leads to the raised appearance of the skin. This reflex has less functional significance in humans compared to many other animals, as our body hair is not as dense, and the insulation effect is limited.

The primary evolutionary purpose of goosebumps in humans is thought to be related to our ancestors. When they were covered in thicker body hair, the raised hair would have trapped more air, providing better insulation and warmth when they were cold. This would help to make the individual appear larger when threatened by a predator (a response similar to that seen in animals with fur or feathers).

In modern humans, the reflex still occurs, but it has a less significant effect due to our reduced body hair. Goosebumps can still be triggered by cold temperatures or emotional responses, but they are not as effective in providing insulation or making us appear larger, as they might in animals with more hair or feathers.

User if we had more feahers would we have fewer goose bumps? ChatGPT If humans had more feathers, they would not necessarily have fewer goosebumps. Goosebumps are a physiological response to various stimuli, including cold temperatures or strong emotions, and they are primarily mediated by the contraction of the arrector pili muscles at the base of hair follicles. Feathers, which are the equivalent of hair in birds, would not directly impact the occurrence of goosebumps in response to these stimuli.

Goosebumps in animals with feathers, such as birds, are a result of the contraction of muscles at the base of the feathers, which can make the feathers stand on end. This is a similar response to what happens in mammals, like humans, with their body hair. So, the presence of feathers or more extensive feather coverage would likely result in a similar response to environmental or emotional stimuli, causing the feathers to ruffle or stand on end, but it would not eliminate the phenomenon of goosebumps in a feathered human-like species.

In summary, the presence of feathers in humans would not eliminate the occurrence of goosebumps, as this reflex is a separate response from the type of body covering (hair or feathers) and is primarily related to the contraction of muscles at the base of the individual hairs or feathers.

User do geese get goosebumps under their feathers ChatGPT No, geese do not get goosebumps under their feathers. Goosebumps, or piloerection, are a response that occurs when the muscles at the base of hair follicles contract, causing the hair to stand on end and creating raised bumps on the skin. This response is a mammalian characteristic and is not found in birds, including geese.

In birds, feathers serve as their primary insulation and protection against environmental factors. Birds have a different system for regulating their body temperature compared to mammals, and they don't have the same type of hair follicles and arrector pili muscles that lead to the formation of goosebumps in mammals. Instead, birds can adjust the positioning of their feathers to regulate their body temperature. They may fluff up their feathers in cold weather to trap more air and create an insulating layer, or they can flatten their feathers to dissipate heat in hot weather. These feather movements help maintain their body temperature without the need for goosebumps.

User Yesterday, Lynn and I went on what we call the Turtle Walk to get our steps in for the day. The Turtle walk is a stroll around a local man made pond which i full of turtles. On an average lap of a turtle walk, we may see anywhere between a few turtles up to as many as a couple dozen. Each lap around the pond is a third of a mile. ChatGPT It sounds like a lovely way to get some exercise and enjoy the outdoors! Going for a walk around a pond filled with turtles must be a peaceful and enjoyable experience. A third of a mile per lap is a good distance for a leisurely walk, and the variation in the number of turtles you encounter can make each walk unique and interesting. Turtles can be fascinating creatures to observe, and your Turtle Walk seems like a great way to appreciate both nature and physical activity. Is there anything specific you'd like to know or discuss about your Turtle Walk?

User Before we hit the turtle walk, we stopped into the grand opening of a brand new Donut shoppe at the end of our street. We ordered a donut apiece. Then we went to Starbuck's and ordered a couple of macchiatos. We decided to save the donuts until we got home. We took the macchiatos with us. ChatGPT It sounds like a delightful outing! Starting your Turtle Walk with a visit to a brand new donut shop and then grabbing macchiatos from Starbucks must have made your walk even more enjoyable. It's always a treat to have a freshly made donut and a good coffee or macchiato to accompany your walk. Saving the donuts for when you got home was probably a good idea, as you could savor them and enjoy them fully once you had completed your walk and were ready to relax. How did the donuts and macchiatos taste when you finally got to enjoy them at home?

User There weren't a lot of turtles on the shore but we saw on of our favorites, an old guy with a recognizable flap in his carapace. ChatGPT It's nice that you still encountered one of your favorite turtles during your Turtle Walk, even if there weren't many turtles on the shore that day. It's always special to see familiar and recognizable creatures in a natural setting. The old guy with the unique flap in his carapace must be quite the character and a regular visitor to your pond. Observing the same turtles over time can create a connection and make your walks even more enjoyable. Do you have any specific names or stories associated with the turtles you encounter on your Turtle Walks?

User We hadn't gone so far as to name any of the turtles but if were were to name one, it would be this one who we'd call either Flipper or Flapper. As we continued on our walk, we decided that we were in fact going to name the turtle either Flipper or Flapper. We chose Flapper because Flipper sounded too much like a dolphin, too much like a mammal. ChatGPT "Flapper" is a wonderful choice for the turtle's name, and I can understand why you'd prefer it over "Flipper" to avoid any confusion with dolphins. Naming the turtle adds a personal touch to your Turtle Walks and creates a connection with the creatures you encounter regularly. Flapper the turtle, with the recognizable flap in his carapace, now has a name that makes your encounters with him even more special. It's nice to have a little story and personal connection with the wildlife you see during your walks. I'm sure Flapper appreciates the attention you give him!

User About a hundred yards past Flapper, we spotted three geese on the path. I'm not a big fan of geese. They always seem so pissed off. Plus these were the Canadian geese who are starting to migrate into North Carolina. They don't belong here. The turtles belong here. The geese belong in Canada. ChatGPT It's understandable that you may have mixed feelings about geese, especially when they are Canadian geese that have migrated to an area where they might not typically belong. Geese can sometimes appear aggressive or territorial, particularly during their breeding season. While it's true that many species of wildlife have specific migratory patterns and habitats, it's also important to remember that bird migration is a natural phenomenon, and various factors can influence their movements and ranges.

Canadian geese are known for their long-distance migrations, and they have adapted to different environments over time. While they may not be native to North Carolina, they have become a common sight in many areas due to their ability to adapt to a variety of habitats.

The turtles you encounter on your Turtle Walks are undoubtedly a native and cherished part of your local environment. It's essential to appreciate and protect local wildlife, including turtles, while understanding that the presence of migratory birds like Canadian geese is a natural part of the ecosystem. If you have concerns about wildlife management or conservation, local authorities and environmental organizations may offer guidance and resources for addressing such issues in your area.

User I know. I get it. many species of wildlife have specific migratory patterns and habitats, I reminded myself that bird migration is a natural phenomenon, and various factors can influence their movements and ranges. Canadian geese are known for their long-distance migrations, and they have adapted to different environments over time. While they may not be native to North Carolina, they have become a common sight in many areas due to their ability to adapt to a variety of habitats.

ChatGPT It's great to hear that you understand and appreciate the complexities of wildlife migration and adaptation. Your awareness of the natural processes and the ability of species like Canadian geese to adapt to different environments is a commendable perspective. It's essential to coexist with and respect the natural world, recognizing that biodiversity and migration are crucial components of healthy ecosystems.

Your appreciation for the turtles and their native habitat, as well as your acknowledgment of the adaptability of migratory species, showcases a thoughtful and balanced approach to wildlife and the environment. Continue to enjoy your Turtle Walks and the diversity of wildlife you encounter, including the occasional presence of migratory species like Canadian geese. It's a testament to the interconnectedness of nature and the beauty of observing it in action.

User Still, I don't appreciate the goose crap all over the path. ChatGPT Understandably, goose droppings on the path can be quite unsightly and inconvenient. It's a common concern in areas where geese congregate. While it's challenging to completely prevent geese from leaving droppings in public areas, there are a few measures that can be taken to help mitigate the issue:

Habitat Modification: Make changes to the environment to discourage geese from gathering in certain areas. This could include planting tall grass or installing fencing to limit their access to paths.

Scare Tactics: Some places use various methods to deter geese from staying in a particular area, such as motion-activated devices, reflective tape, or decoy animals that simulate predators.

Regular Cleanup: In areas with a persistent geese presence, regular cleaning of paths and open spaces may be necessary to keep them clean and free from droppings.

Educational Outreach: Sometimes, community education programs can help people understand the importance of not feeding geese, as well as the impact of goose droppings on the environment. Feeding geese can encourage them to congregate in certain areas.

It's important to balance the enjoyment of wildlife and the need for cleanliness and safety in public spaces. Local authorities and environmental organizations may have specific guidelines or strategies in place to address this issue in your area.

User we could use some motion activated devices, some reflective tape, some tall grass or some decoy animals to keep these geese away from the pond. ChatGPT Using motion-activated devices, reflective tape, tall grass, or decoy animals can be effective strategies to deter geese from congregating in certain areas. Here's a bit more detail on how these methods can work:

Motion-Activated Devices: Motion-activated devices emit sounds, lights, or other stimuli when they detect movement. These can startle geese and make them uncomfortable, encouraging them to leave the area.

Reflective Tape: Reflective tape, often hung in strips or attached to stakes, can create a visual disturbance that may deter geese. The tape reflects light and moves with the wind, which can make geese uneasy.

Tall Grass: Planting tall grass near the pond can provide a natural barrier that makes the area less inviting to geese. They prefer open spaces where they have a clear line of sight for potential predators.

Decoy Animals: Decoy animals, like plastic owls or coyotes, can be strategically placed to mimic the presence of natural predators. This can make geese think twice about staying in the area.

It's a good idea to consult with local wildlife management experts or organizations for guidance on the most effective methods for your specific location and the local regulations regarding deterring geese. Keep in mind that these methods may need some trial and error to find what works best in your particular environment.

User Motion-activated devices emit sounds, lights, or other stimuli when they detect movement. These can startle geese and make them uncomfortable, encouraging them to leave the area.

Reflective Tape: Reflective tape, often hung in strips or attached to stakes, can create a visual disturbance that may deter geese. The tape reflects light and moves with the wind, which can make geese uneasy.

Tall Grass: Planting tall grass near the pond can provide a natural barrier that makes the area less inviting to geese. They prefer open spaces where they have a clear line of sight for potential predators.

Decoy Animals: Decoy animals, like plastic owls or coyotes, can be strategically placed to mimic the presence of natural predators. This can make geese think twice about staying in the area. ChatGPT You've summarized the strategies quite well! These methods can be effective in discouraging geese from congregating around the pond. Implementing a combination of these strategies may provide the best results, as it can create a more comprehensive deterrent system. As you explore these options, be sure to monitor their effectiveness and adjust your approach as needed to keep the geese at bay while ensuring the comfort and cleanliness of the area around the pond.

User Not only are they droppers but they're aggressive and territorial especially when they're breeding. As we approached the geese, they looked horny as hell and I wished we had taken precautions to make their little love pond a bit more unappealing but hey here we are. ChatGPT Geese can indeed become more territorial and aggressive, especially during their breeding season. It's important to exercise caution when encountering geese in such situations, as they can be protective of their nests and young goslings. Your concerns about their aggressive behavior are valid.

While it's challenging to change their behavior entirely, taking precautions, as you mentioned, can help make areas near the pond less appealing to them during breeding season. This may involve implementing some of the deterrent strategies we discussed earlier, like motion-activated devices, reflective tape, or decoy animals. Additionally, posting warning signs to inform visitors about the presence of geese and the need to keep a safe distance can be beneficial.

Safety should always come first, and taking steps to minimize conflicts with geese while preserving the enjoyment of the area is a reasonable approach.

User The geese saw me coming and as we got closer I got the vibe that the geese didn't appreciate more anymore than I appreciated them. I have been attacked by a goose before and it's no fun. The lead goose in particular seemed offended by my presence. He took a step towards me. We looked at each other eye to eye. I got goose bumps. The goose didn't get goose bumps. Birds don't get goose bumps, mammals do. Flapper wouldn't get goose bumps. Flipper might. Flipper's a mammal so they claim. ChatGPT It's not uncommon for geese to become defensive and protective when they feel their territory or young are threatened. Having had a previous encounter with an aggressive goose, it's understandable that you'd approach the situation with caution.

You're right that birds, including geese, don't get goosebumps as mammals do. Goosebumps in mammals, as I mentioned earlier, are a response to stimuli like cold or strong emotions, resulting from the contraction of arrector pili muscles at the base of hair follicles. Birds, on the other hand, have feathers rather than hair and don't have the same type of musculature to produce a similar response.

It's wise to maintain a safe distance and respect the geese's space to avoid any confrontations. Observing them from a distance can still provide an opportunity to appreciate these birds and their behavior while keeping everyone involved safe.

User ChatGPT It's good to hear that you and Lynn were able to pass by the geese without any issues, and that you shared a moment of amusement over the goosebumps and your body's natural response to a perceived threat. Your explanation about the fight or flight reaction is accurate; goosebumps can be part of the body's response to prepare for a possible threat.

It's also sweet that you reminded Lynn of your protective instincts. It's natural to want to look out for the people you care about. Even though the geese were more likely to be territorial rather than a real threat, it's always good to stay vigilant when interacting with wildlife. Your actions are a sign of your concern for her well-being.

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[hauntedfalcon]

living in midnight

for day four of Nile Freeman Week: "Nile & Struggle" plus a fantasy AU in which superheroes exist, Nile isn't one of them, and she doesn't let that stop her. 1700 words, rated M for swearing. content warning for wounds and needles because it's Nile's turn for sapphic patching up, as a treat

the title is from Lianne La Havas’s “Midnight”. many thanks to @flightsofwonder for beta reading <3

read on AO3 or below

Nile opens her eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling. There is an unfamiliar pillow under her head, and she is recumbent on an unfamiliar sofa. Above it is a window, where streetlights reflect in the sinuous trails of raindrops.

Rain. Knives. Three attackers. She fought like hell, might have broken someone’s arm, but they landed one good hit. They left her for dead in an alley. She watched her own blood run into a puddle.

She bolts upright--and hisses when a wave of agony breaks over her, starting in her abdomen and shooting everywhere.

“Please don’t move,” says a softly accented voice. “You’re safe here. I haven’t seen your face.”

Nile collapses back down to the pillow and touches her face, just to be sure. Her mask is still in place. She drops her hand and forces one eye open, blurry with pained tears, to get a look at whoever dragged her in from the alley.

A white woman. Dark shoulder-length hair. Youngish, maybe Nile’s age. Dressed all in black, much like her--not for stealth but for soft goth vibes. Cute, if she’s honest, but this isn’t the fucking singles bar, get it together Freeman.

“I staunched the bleeding,” her rescuer says, “but I was waiting until you were conscious to do the stitches.”

“Do we have to?” Nile groans before she can stop herself.

A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “I’m afraid so. Would you like some fortitude?” The amateur surgeon holds out a bottle of Everclear.

Ugh. Nile takes the cap off and drinks deep, leaving enough in the bottle to sterilize whatever needs to be sterilized. It tastes like ass and lingers at the back of her throat.

Before the alcohol can set in and obliterate her senses, she says, “Can I borrow your phone?”

The woman hesitates. Very wise of her.

“Listen,” Nile says. “We had two leads come in at the same time. Al-Tayyib took one and I took the other, and mine was a decoy, which means...” She can’t, won’t, say it aloud. She hates how feeble she sounds. “I just have to check in with him. Please.”

The woman hands her a smartphone, unlocked. Nile hits the keycode to make the call anonymous, then dials Joe’s shitty flip phone from memory. He keeps it on silent when he’s on the rounds, and he’ll only answer if he’s safe.

Pick up, she wills him, because if she has to hear his stupid cheerful voicemail greeting now of all times, she’s going to scream right in front of this poor woman who didn’t ask for any of this drama in her life. Pick up, pick up, pick--

“Pronto.”

Nile’s gut tightens (painfully, but that’s not what matters right now) at the sound of another unfamiliar voice. The assassin. Joe walked into a trap.

“Where is he?” she demands, trying to sound hard and not like she’s lying on a stranger’s couch with an open wound.

A gust in the speaker. Is he laughing at her? She strains to hear anything that would give away their location: traffic, a clock tower, machinery, anything. There’s nothing else. No hint of Joe yelling in the background, either.

“I will return him to you presently,” says the asshole. Very formal.

“What, after you shank him like your goons did to me?”

“They were instructed not to kill you,” he says in a voice that wouldn’t fog a window in January. “Did you die?”

White-hot rage flares out of her with no place to go. “Where is he, you son of a--” But he has already hung up on her.

Nile resists the urge to growl. If this was her phone she would throw it against the wall. Instead she quickly deletes the record of the outgoing call, and hands the phone back to the woman, who pockets it. “Thank you,” she says tightly.

“I’m sorry to say so,” says the woman as she holds the tip of a curved needle in a candle flame, “but you are in no condition to save anyone right now.”

She blows out a sigh in answer. When she pulls the hem of her shirt up and peels away the medical tape and bandage pad, she discovers that the woman is absolutely right. This isn’t the worst Nile has been hurt and still fought, but it is pretty bad.

And it’s one thing to trash a gang of traffickers while she’s actively bleeding. It’s something totally different to track down a guy who has been three steps ahead of them this whole time, and seems to have removed his sense of morals with an ice cream scoop.

There’s only one thing left to do: say a silent prayer. The way she learned to pray feels insufficiently casual for the circumstances; she wishes she knew more about the format of the rakat. All she remembers is, “God hears the one who praises him,” so she starts on the Lord’s Prayer because praise comes before petition.

In place of, “Give us this day our daily bread,” she substitutes, “Get Joe out of this with his head,” and then she has to hold back a giggle at the rhyme. She must have lost a lot of blood.

The woman wipes the needle down with Everclear. “You know, I met the old Guardian too.”

Nile eyes her carefully. She won’t say Andy’s name in this woman’s presence. She won’t say Joe’s name either, much less her own. She won’t slip no matter how much blood she’s lost or how strong the alcohol is or how fundamentally good and trustworthy this woman seems or how much this is going to hurt. “Not under the same conditions,” she presumes.

“Very similar,” the woman says with another fleeting smile. “I hope she’s well?”

“She’s good,” Nile hastens to reassure her. “She retired.” And she left Nile her nom de guerre and all the weight that went with it.

“I’m glad she made it that long.”

“Probably thanks to you,” Nile says, and she gets a longer smile for it.

Then the needle bites into her skin and Nile whimpers softly and throws an arm over her eyes. She’s hard. She’s tough. This is what she does.

The woman’s gloved hand pinches the wound closed as she stitches. She works quickly, professionally. “I’m really glad you found me,” Nile manages. “I can’t exactly go to a hospital.”

“I think you would be surprised,” the woman says. “You are well loved in this city. People would protect your identity.”

That’s not it. Nile can’t go to hospital because there’s a chance her mom would be on shift, and the only thing worse than keeping her alter ego secret from her mom is the idea that she would find out because Nile came in on a gurney. She can’t do that to her.

A tug, as she ties the thread off, and then a snip of the shears. Nile lifts her head and looks down at a slightly puckered, neatly stitched, no longer bleeding knife wound.

Her laugh sounds brittle, just this side of hysterical. The woman glances at her. “I have work tomorrow,” Nile says weakly.

The woman tapes a fresh bandage over the wound. “Me too.”

No rest for the righteous. “The struggle is real, huh? Sorry for keeping you up late.”

“I will call in if you do,” the woman offers.

But going into the office in the morning might be the soonest opportunity to make sure Joe is okay. Nile pulls her shirt down and zips her bomber jacket over it. “I should go.”

The woman sets one hand on Nile’s arm. “Please stay. You shouldn’t be out alone tonight.”

“They might have been watching when you brought me inside,” Nile warns.

“Then I will need your protection, won’t I?” the woman says without blinking, as if she’s not the one that just saved Nile’s whole life.

Nile cracks an incredulous smile but the woman just gazes at her solemnly.

“Okay,” she says at last. “Okay, I’ll stay. Thank you. And I’m sorry for bleeding on your couch.”

It’s not enough, but the woman just sets about cleaning up her supplies. Nile settles back against the pillow and wills her muscles to unclench.

“May I ask,” the woman asks as she washes her hands, “why you do this? You don’t have superpowers.”

No, and none of the people who do have taken this city under their protection. Flippant, lazy answers parade through Nile’s mind, because she’s not in a charitable mood. Anger issues. No one else is gonna do it. I’m a giant masochist, actually.

But when she opens her mouth, the first thing that comes out is Andy’s answer, from when Nile asked her years ago. “Because there are people worth fighting for.”

Then Joe’s answer: “People who won’t get justice any other way.”

And, finally, one that’s all hers. “I have a responsibility. This is my city”

She’s going to pass out any minute, but beneath her fatigue there’s still a live coal of the feelings that made her put this mask on in the first place. This is her damn city. She spends so much time in the guts of its shitty justice system, and the rest of the time punching assholes, that she sometimes forgets her city is full of ordinary, decent people. Good people. People who will bring someone in from the rain. People like…

“What’s your name?” Nile asks, and then catches herself. “I can’t--give you mine. Sorry. It might be safer if I don’t know yours.”

“Celeste,” says the woman.

Good people like Celeste. How comforting that is.

Her pain is down to an ache instead of a burn, and her eyes drift closed. In the morning, she’ll be out of Celeste’s hair. She’ll shower at her apartment, carefully, and she’ll go into Legal Aid, and Joe will be there, a little banged up but alive. He’ll hug her, quick and tight, and they’ll loiter by the coffee maker and speak in low voices and sort out their next play. And when the work day is over, they’ll go with Andy and Quỳnh down to Booker’s for drinks and darts, and Nile will order a bouquet of flowers sent to Celeste’s apartment in thanks. Everything, for given quantities of everything, will be fine.

Confident in her safety, secure in her purpose, Nile rests.

[conradscrime]

Amelia Dyer: World’s Most Prolific Female Serial Killer?

April 28, 2021 

Amelia Dyer (born Ameila Hobley) was born in a small village called Pyle Marsh east of Bristol in 1836, being the youngest of 5 children born to Samuel and Sarah Hobley. 

Amelia’s mother suffered from mental illnesses caused by typhus and from a young age Amelia watched her mother fly into violent fits and had to take care of her until she died in 1848, when Amelia was 12 years old.

After Amelia’s mother died she moved in and lived with one of her aunts in Bristol, gaining an apprenticeship with a corset maker. Amelia’s father died in 1859 and in 1861 at the age of 24 Amelia married a man named George Thomas. George was 59 at the time and both had lied about their ages on the marriage certificate. 

Amelia trained as a nurse after marrying George. However, soon after this Amelia met a midwife where she discovered that an easier way to make money was by opening up her home as a place to stay for women who were having babies illegitimately, that is, getting pregnant without being married first. The women could stay until they had their baby and then the babies would be farmed off for either adoption or they would die from neglect and malnutrition (similar to the Butterbox Babies, previously covered on this blog). 

Amelia’s husband died in 1869 which left her needing an income fast. She began to advertise her services which included nurse care, adoption services, and just childcare for parents who needed it and they could come reclaim their children at a later date. Amelia told the women that she was respectable and married and their babies would be safe with her. 

In 1872 Amelia married a man named William Dyer and they had two children of their own. Amelia eventually left William but kept his surname throughout the rest of her life.

There is no specific details of when this began exactly but at one point during this baby farming career, Amelia began to forgo the expense of letting the young babies and children die through starvation and after the receipt of each child she would murder them. This allowed her to keep most of the fees. 

It was easy for Amelia to get away with this for quite some time because the mothers of the babies and children usually did not go looking for them after birth, and if they did they were too embarrassed to get a welfare check done on the child because it was very looked down upon to have an illegitimate child. 

In 1879 a doctor became suspicious of Amelia due to the number of child deaths he had been called to certify. However, Amelia was only sentenced to complete 6 months of hard labour for neglect. According to some, this sentence of hard labour was extremely difficult on Amelia and resulted in her having poor mental health and suicidal tendencies. She was also heavily drinking alcohol and abusing opium-based products when she first began to kill which some think attributed to her poor mental health. 

Because of the doctor’s constant suspicions, Amelia decided to stop involving him to issue death certificates and so she began to murder the babies and then dispose of the bodies herself. A lot of people were keeping eyes on her, not only authorities but also parents who wanted to reclaim their children again. To try to avoid this, Amelia and her family would relocate to different cities and she would use a number of aliases to keep her true identity hidden. Keep in mind this is the end of the 19th century -- it was easy to relocate and start a new life at this time. 

Due to her suicide attempts and mental health struggles Amelia was sent to asylums a few times in her life and in 1893 she was discharged the last time from the Somerset and Bath Lunatic Asylum near Wells. In 1895 she moved to Reading, Berkshire with a woman named Jane “Granny” Smith, Amelia’s daughter, Polly, and Polly’s husband Arthur. “Granny” was to be called “mother” in front of the unwed mothers handing over their children so that they felt safe, knowing they were giving their child to a caring home. 

In January 1896 a woman named Evelina Marmon, 25, gave birth to a daughter illegitimately and she was named Doris. Evelina placed an advertisement for a respectable woman to come take her child for a short period of time while she went back to work. She had full intentions of reclaiming her child. 

Evelina saw an advertisement for a couple who were looking to adopt a healthy child and she responded to a “Mrs. Harding” (Amelia Dyer) who promised she would take care of the baby. Amelia took the baby one week later, wrote a letter to Evelina telling her all was well and then she was never heard of again. 

Amelia had told Evelina that she was taking the young Doris to Reading, Berkshire, however she actually took her to Willesden, London where Polly was living. Amelia took some white edging tape used for dressmaking and wound it twice around the baby’s neck, tying a knot. Then Amelia and Polly wrapped the body up in a napkin. The next day, April 1, 1896, a 13 month old boy named Harry Simmons was given to Amelia and because she had no edging tape left she took the tape from around Doris’ neck and used it to murder the boy. 

On April 2, she took both bodies and stacked them on top of each other into a carpet bag along with some bricks to add some weight. She then took the bag and took it to the River Thames, forcing it through the railings. 

Unlucky for Amelia, her scheme was up. On March 30, 1896 what appeared to be a package that was not weighted adequately from the Thames had been spotted by a bargeman. Inside was the body of a baby girl who was later identified as Helena Fry. They discovered the package belong to a “Mrs. Thomas” and found an address. 

On April 3, 1896 Amelia was expecting a new client to show up on her doorstep but didn’t know this “new client” was actually a decoy set up by police. When she opened her door, police raided her home. They found no human remains in the house, though the whole place smelled like decomposition. They found a lot of other evidence, such as pawn tickets for children’s clothing, telegrams with adoption arrangements, white edging tape and letters from mother’s asking about their children. 

Amelia Dyer was arrested and charged with murder on April 4, 1896. Police estimated that in the previous couple of months at least 20 children had been placed in her care, and they also discovered she was getting ready to move again, to Somerset. Some estimated that Amelia Dyer murdered over 400 babies and children.

They also searched the Thames and found 6 more bodies including Doris and Harry’s who were the last victims. Amelia pleaded guilty to only the murder of Doris on May 22, 1896. The defense used insanity, claiming that Amelia was unstable and had been committed to asylums in her life. However, the prosecution claimed Amelia only was committed to asylums as a ploy to keep her undetected, she only went to these asylums when she felt her crimes may be exposed.

The jury found Amelia Dyer guilty in 4 and a half minutes. Amelia Dyer was hanged by James Billington at Newgate Prison on June 10, 1896. Her last words were, “I have nothing to say.” 

Stricter adoption laws were put in place, allowing local authorities to police baby farms to stop abuse from happening within them. Despite this however this abuse didn’t stop. In 1898 two years after Amelia’s execution, a couple of railway workers found a parcel with a 3 week old baby girl inside. The girl was still alive and had been the daughter a widow named Jane Hill who claimed she had given the baby to a woman by the name of “Mrs. Stewart” for 12 pounds. It has been claimed that “Mrs. Stewart” was Polly, Amelia Dyer’s daughter. 

[mystical-flute]

Love Persevered

Also on AO3

It's not S.W.O.R.D that ends up with Vision's body, it's S.H.I.E.L.D, and a miracle happens when Wanda goes to collect his body.

Wanda Maximoff had heard of S.H.I.E.L.D. Of course she had - she had heard many, many things about them during her time with HYDRA. How evil they were, for standing in the way of greatness, of glory...

When she’d heard about the real S.H.I.E.L.D from Clint and Natasha, she was almost disappointed she never got the chance to work with them. Nick Fury and Phil Coulson sounded like better people than the monsters that had tortured her and Pietro and brainwashed them into doing their bidding.

She shuddered a little, striding into S.H.I.E.L.D’s headquarters. It was smaller than she would have anticipated an organization of its caliber being, but Wanda supposed, after all the damage that had been caused after the Blip and other issues leading up to it, she should be grateful the organization existed at all.

What she was worried about was why they were the ones that had Vision’s body. Yes, he had been listed on the Wall of Heroes, and she was very grateful for it, but why hadn’t he been buried? Why hadn’t he gotten what Tony Stark had?

It was up to her to give it to him.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Wanda Maximoff. I’m here for Vision’s - I - I’m here for Vis - ” she’d tried to steal her nerves, tried to come to grips with what she was asking for, but the words just wouldn’t come out. “Please. I know he’s here.”

The woman behind the desk gave her a sad, understanding smile as she picked up the phone. “Director, Wanda Maximoff is here.” A pause. “Yes sir,” she put the phone back down and turned back to Wanda. “Director Mackenzie will be waiting for you on the third floor at the end of the hall. Just use those doors. Elevator is on your right.”

Wanda blinked in surprise. It would be that easy? Really? Normally with government agencies there was a host of red tape she needed to cut through. But maybe S.H.I.E.L.D understood she wasn’t here to fight, or even talk. She was just here to give Vision the goodbye he deserved.

“Thank you,” she managed to choke out, before rushing through the doors and up to the third floor as directed.

“Hello Miss Maximoff. I’m Director Alphonso Mackenzie. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Wanda, and thank you. Can I see him?”

“Of course, right this way.”

He pushed the door behind him open, allowing Wanda to step through into what she could only describe as a lab. On a table, covered in a white sheet, was what she assumed was Vision. However, she was more concerned with the people that were standing nearby, looking at records and computer screens.

“Who are they?” she heard herself ask sharply.

“Fitz,” the one woman said, pointing at the man next to her.

“Simmons,” the man said, pointing at the woman who had first spoken.

The second woman rolled her eyes, holding out her hand. “I’m Daisy.”

Wanda shook it suspiciously. “What were you doing with Vision?”

“We… were hoping to give you some options, Wanda,” Mack began. “S.H.I.E.L.D has been able to create androids called Life-Model Decoys, or LMD’s. They’re essentially reconstructions of people. Originally, they were intended to be used as shields to protect our agents, but there were a couple of extenuating circumstances.”

Wanda furrowed her brow. “And that means…?”

“We created decoys to… essentially resurrect the dead just… not in their original bodies,” Fitz said. “Jemma, Daisy, and I were making a map of Vision, in case you decided you wanted one of him.”

Wanda felt her heart stop. She must have been dreaming, right?

“You would… bring him back?” she choked out over the lump in her throat. God, she did not want to hope, but it was so, so tempting. “What - what’s the catch?”

“There is no catch,” Simmons answered this time. “I swear on my cottage in Perthshire.”

“Why do you want to help me?” Wanda had done so many terrible things to so many people. Why would a government organization want to help her now?

“Because S.H.I.E.L.D believes in helping people, and that no one should be alone. But at the end of the day, this decision is up to you,” Daisy said. “As his next of kin, this decision is yours alone.”

She could have him back.

Wanda had not dared to hope for such a thing. But she could have him back. These people - a group that Clint and Natasha trusted - were giving her a second chance she wasn’t sure she deserved.

Still, she looked suspiciously at the scientists in front of her. “Would he be the same Vision I fell in love with?” she asked.

“We can replicate his personality and his appearance, yes. He would no longer be considered a synthezoid, however. He would be an android. We’ve also never created an LMD of a synthezoid, so we don’t know for sure if he’d still have his powers, but… otherwise, he would act and look just the same as you knew him,” Fitz confirmed. “He will have all of his memories of you as well.”

Wanda was shaking now, and her knees buckled. If Mack hadn’t been right next to her, she knew she would have fully collapsed to the black tiles below her.

“Do it,” she gasped, nodding once. “Please. Bring him back to me.”

“It will take a few days,” Mack said, helping to steady her. “You’re welcome to stay here if you don’t have a hotel or anything else.”

The dam broke, tears racing down her cheeks. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.” She rubbed her eyes. “Can I have a minute alone with him before you start?”

“Of course.”

The scientists and director stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut softly behind them.

She rubbed her eye against the sleeve of her sweater again, swallowing back a wave of nausea as she peeled the sheet back.

He looked as she remembered. That was good. Part of her had been worried that any government agency would dissect Vision, or worse - try to turn him on their side, but it seemed S.H.I.E.L.D wasn’t like the others.

She was so glad he’d ended up in their hands.

“I’m sorry there wasn’t any other way…” she whispered, hovering a shaking hand over where the Mind Stone should have been. “I can’t feel - ”

Wait.

Wanda paused, frozen over Vision’s form.

She felt something. It was faint, so very, very faint, but it was there.

It was him.

“Vision?” her voice cracked. “Vision, can you hear me?”

If he could, he didn’t respond, but that little flicker of feeling meant that… maybe this body could be saved.

“Director!” she called.

Mack was in the room in a second. “Wanda? What’s the matter?”

“I - I think Vision is still alive.” It was a sentence she didn’t think she would say after the battle with Thanos.

“Tremors! Fitzsimmons! We may be on a resuscitation job instead of an LMD job!”

The scientists rushed into the room, their eyes wide as they rushed to the computer and monitors.

“My God,” Simmons murmured, turning to Wanda. “Did you… happen to use your magic at all while you were alone?”

Wanda swallowed thickly. “I… yeah, a little bit. It’s something I used to do with him.”

“We registered a trace amount of energy when we brought him in, but we couldn’t place where it came from. Only that it was partially found in space. That same energy was picked up by our computer when you were in here. You were the one to originally - ”

“Yes, I was,” Wanda interrupted, not wanting the word spoken. “What does that mean?”

“It means Simmons and I can repair Vision’s body, and you can repair his mind,” Fitz concluded. “Some of the more… mechanical pieces of him began to deteriorate over the last five years. I can upgrade that, but we’ll need your energy to… bring him back online.”

“I - I can’t - that’s not how - ”

“Wanda,” Daisy said firmly, and Wanda turned to her with wide eyes. “I know how you feel. You don’t feel strong enough, or powerful enough, right?”

Wanda nodded a little.

“My sister thought the same. She has powers too - so do I. She was asked to do something she never thought possible with her gifts.”

“What’s that?”

“Bring me back to life.”

Wanda thought the breath was knocked out of her as she stared at the agent in front of her. “You - you died too? And - and you were brought back?”

Daisy nodded. “My sister and I are known as Inhumans. Kora has energy manipulation. She managed to manipulate my life energy after I was - literally - floating in space without any protection. You said you felt a flicker of Vision?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to focus on that feeling and fight like hell to bring him back.”

Wanda took a deep breath, all of it overwhelming. She’d thought she would be coming in here to claim VIsion’s corpse and take him to be buried. Now here she was… potentially bringing him back. Small as it was, she knew she couldn’t turn it down, so she nodded.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“Fitz and I will begin the repairs right away,” Simmons said, giving Wanda a kind smile. “You can wait in the hallway. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for your powers.”

“I’ll wait with her,” Daisy offered, leading her back out into the hallway.

“I’ll leave you all too it. Call me if there’s an emergency,” Mack said. “It was nice to meet you, Wanda.”

Wanda nodded, sitting on a bench with Daisy. Was this what it was like when someone was in a hospital waiting room, waiting for news about their loved one’s surgery? That must have been what this felt like.

There was a comfortable silence between her and Daisy, as Daisy quietly tapped on her phone and the muffled sounds of machinery whirred behind the lab doors.

“What was it like?” she choked out, wanting an escape from the sounds.

Daisy looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“Your… dying. What was it like?”

“Oh.” Daisy paused, slipping her phone into her pocket before she leaned back on the bench. “Well… we were fighting this guy named Malick. He had inhuman powers like my sister and I, and he managed to pin me against this… energy thing. We planned for this. For my to - to sacrifice myself. So I managed to grab him, look him right in the eye, and just let out the strongest attack I could. The last thing I remember was everything exploding around me… and then it went dark. Empty… until Kora brought me back.”

“Is that what Vision’s feeling now? Empty?” she whispered. “Has he felt this for five years?”

“It’s hard to say. But I know you shouldn’t dwell on it, Wanda. Just focus on him. On your future.”

“Westview…” she said softly, a sad smile on her face. “Vision bought a plot of land. We were supposed to build a house there. ‘To grow old in’.”

Daisy smiled. “I think that sounds sweet. Hold on to that. Focus on that when you’re doing your magic, or whatever it is.”

Wanda nodded, her hands shaking. “I can’t believe it’s real. Now that I actually have time to think - I was afraid I was going to be alone forever. The other Avengers went home to their families but I - I don’t have anyone. I thought I was coming in here to retrieve a corpse… and now I might be walking out of here with the man I love.”

“You will be. Fitz and Simmons are the smartest people I know. They will work until their fingers fall off to bring Vision back to you.”

“She’s right about that. They’re the ones who brought me back.” This voice was new, and Wanda jumped slightly as she turned to it.

“A.C! I didn’t know you were coming in today. How was Miami?” Daisy asked.

“Humid. Wasn’t so easy on my circuitry,” the man replied, glancing over at Wanda. “You must be Wanda Maximoff. I’m Phil Coulson.”

She blinked, rising to her feet. “Clint and Natasha told me you were dead.”

“I am. Well - my body is. I’m an LMD. Did they explain to you what your option was with Vision?” Coulson asked.

“They did but… I think we can bring him back, just as he is. Your associates are repairing his body now.”

Coulson’s eyes widened. “Oh - well, that’s surprising. But good. We weren’t sure, which is why S.H.I.E.L.D offered you an LMD of him.”

“It’s very appreciated, Agent Coulson.” Wanda picked at the hem of her sleeve. “Do they know you’re alive?”

“Who?”

“Clint, Thor or Bruce. They were part of the original Avengers, right? Do they know about your… new form?”

Coulson hesitated. “No. I was kept in the shadows, and then it’s been a little nuts the last five years.”

She pressed her lips together. “I think you should tell them. I mean, the rules are being bent all over the place now, right? They would be happy to know your consciousness is still alive. Clint especially. He - he told me he still has regrets over what happened with Loki.”

A look of guilt crossed Coulson’s face. “I see. I’ll contact them, then. Thank you for letting me know. Do you mind if I wait with you and Daisy?”

She shook her head. “Maybe you can tell me about what Clint and Natasha were like when they worked here.”

Coulson laughed. “Oh, I have a few stories about that.”

It was hours later before Simmons poked her head out of the lab. “You can come in now, Wanda.”

Vision was still purple and lifeless, but his skull looked good as new. She could see the reinforcements that had been made to the non-organic parts of his body too, and smiled in relief.

Now came the tricky part.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Fitz said, a tablet in his hand.

Wanda nodded, stepping up to VIsion. She placed her hand over his head where the stone should have been and focused on everything she loved about him. About the future they’d tried to build. About the future they would build, when he came back to her.

“I can feel you, Vision,” she whispered. “Please… come back.”

She watched as the energy in her hand suddenly turned yellow - the Mind Stone! - and poured into Vision’s skull. The color began to return to him, and finally, those blue eyes opened.

“Wanda?” he asked.

“Vision?”

He sat up, holding his head. “What happened? Where’s Thanos? Are we still in Wakanda?”

“Thanos is gone. We’re safe now. We’re at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters,” she explained.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. Yes, I recall stories about them.” He paused, data downloading in his mind. “Ah, yes, I see. And you took custody of my body because of my connection to the Avengers?”

“That’s correct. Agent Coulson here was one of the founding members of the Avengers initiative,” Daisy explained.

“And you died, but apparently returned as well. It is comforting to know I’m not the only person to return from death,” Vision said.

“Everything seems to be stable with you, Vision. How are you feeling?”

Vision hopped off the table, testing a few of his abilities quickly. “I feel brand new. Thank you Dr. Simmons.”

“Then I clear you for discharge,” Simmons smiled, holding out a card. “If you need anything, S.H.I.E.L.D will be at your call.”

Wanda leaned against Vision. “Thank you for being so kind… for doing all of this for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Daisy said. “Good luck in Westview.”

“I quite liked them,” Vision said as they got into her car. “Did you know Agent Coulson used to have hair?”

Wanda chuckled softly, switching the car on and pulling out onto the busy street. “It’s not hard to imagine. Human men go bald sometimes. I guess Coulson just got unlucky genes.”

“What do you suppose I would look like bald? As a human, I mean. I know I’m… quite bald in this form.” He patted his own head for emphasis.

“I don’t know. But I think we have all the time in the world to find out.”

Vision smiled. “Yes, we do. Westview awaits.”

They drove off into the sunset, and the promise of tomorrow.

[miss-choco-chips]

The dangers of sugar coating

Dick tries to give his little brother nice things (and fucks up), Tim is paranoid (and too tired to think clearly), and Damian thinks they might actually be a good team (while they plot Santa Claus’ downfall).

(Beacuse @animemangasoul and I decided we’ve been too rough with Tim lately, so I tried to give him some batfamily fluff. Somewhere along the way I fucked up and ended with this. No edit, pure crack)

-----.------

-Before I tell you anything, you need to promise me you won’t get mad.

The Bruce of ten years ago, new to parenting and oblivious to its dangers, would have done his best to emulate any ‘How to be a good Dad- guide for new, utterly lost fathers’ book. Now, though, tired after raising Dick to semi-adulthood and still hurting over Jason’s… Jason, he knew better. Life had toughtened him up.

So he didn’t raise his eyes from his newspaper, and gave into the urge of sipping his coffee before humming under his breath. Not even the slightest show of acceptance over those terms.

If Dick was asking that, instead of hiding whatever this was or dealing with it himself, it meant the situation was either out of his control, bound to make its way to Bruce eventually, or both. 

Probably both.

-Come on, B, just promise you won’t get all passive aggressive bitch on me. I did it for the greater good...

Another hum.

However, Dick has spent the same amount of time learning under his guide than he had raising him, so the younger was bound to develop some of his own tactics.

-...and I did it because Tim obviously needed it, so…

Warning bells ringing in his mind, Bruce gave up and shoot Dick a look. He didn’t seem overly guilty, so whatever this was, it probably wasn’t irreversible. But he was also shifting his weight from one leg to the other nervously, so… there was a catch here.

-What did you do?

-You didn’t promise.

-I won’t take your allowance away, but I may yell. It depends on how convincingly you make your case -compromise, he had learned after many, many mistakes, was as good a plan as any. 

-Deal -then, quickly, like ripping off a bandaid:- I might have made Tim slightly more neurotic than he was. On accident.

The bells turned into firefighter’s sirens. 

-What did you do?

They have had the fifteen year old living in the mannor for a few weeks at most. They couldn't possibly have already broken him, right?

Right?

Dick winced, but sat down by Bruce’s left (the side closest to the dining room’s window), which meant this was the only issue, but a hard to explain one.

-You see… We were talking, bonding over childhood memories and stuff, and… you know how christmas is just around the corner, and I asked him about Santa. I mean, obviously he doesn’t believe in that now, but the thing is, he never did.

-He’s too smart for that -growled Bruce, impatiente to get to the point and figure out just how much damage control would he be doing.

-No, his parents were too shitty. They were never there on Christmas, so no gifts under the tree unless he put them there himself, and whenever that happened, it was because his parents sent them and he wrapped them himself. Also no surprises, because he was the one asking for specific stuff. And I got a little sad, because how can a kid never believe in Santa? Like, come on. It’s part of the concept of childhood innocence. So...

Bruce waited a few beats, but Dick didn’t follow up. See, this was the moment where his parenting books would suggest waiting until the kid was good and ready for sharing his thoughts. But, since this was his younger child at stake here, he couldn't allow himself the luxury of letting a single second go.

-And? -he prompted, as gently as he could, trying not to spook Dick into abandoning ship.

-And I sort of… convinced him that Santa was real. Like, a full out super powered meta whose purpose in life was to bring joy to all of us. I texted Barbara and she planted some old looking reports on the batcomputer about it, to give credibility to the lie. I even drew parallels with Batman being thought of as a myth outside of Gotham to support the ‘Santa is real, people just don’t believe in him’ thing. And, after some hours of convincing and with Babs’ help, he bought it. So now, if Tim approaches you about it, you better back me up, because otherwise you would be ruining the last vestige of innocence Tim might still keep. Downside, though, Tim is now holed up in his bedroom searching the deep web for any Santa related info he can get his nerdy little paws on.

Silence in the room. Dick blurted out a goodbye and jumped out of the window. Bruce didn’t get up to check if he had landed safely on the other side. He probably had. 

Tired, he looked down at his coffee. Black, just like he needed it now.

He should have stopped at zero children.

----.----

Cassie watched, with no small amount of unholy glee, as Tim thoroughly convinced both Kon and Bart of Santa’s existence. One a clone with little social understanding and the other from a very dark future, they were unsurprisingly easy to convince.

This was the kind of hilarious shit that made being in a superhero team worth it. All the life and death situations were balanced out by this kind of drama-like absurdity.

Even better was Tim’s completely fucked up perspective on the matter.

-So you’re saying Santa is not only real, but a deranged psychopath? Who’s probably both a pedofile and a mind controlling scumbag? -Kon tilted his head, both confused and esceptic.

Cassie did her utmost best to keep a straight face while nodding along, as if everything Tim had laid down in front of them made perfect sense. 

-I thought it was stupid, too. But Dick showed me evidence, old reports, both handwritten and digital, and I found footage of Santa sneaking into the Manor when he was still young, deeply buried in the Batcomputer mainframe.

-Couldn’t that video be, you know… made up? -Bart asked, frown unusual on him firmly in place.

-If it was anywhere else? Sure. But this is The Batcomputer we’re talking about. Why would Batman have that kind of thing there? It was too heavily protected to be placed there as decoy for anyone hacking, not like they could ever get over Oracle’s firewalls. Besides, what reason would Batman have to invent this? I’m fifteen, I don’t need the ‘Santa fantasy’. The only believable answer is that Santa is real and very dangerous, and some people have taken his name for capitalism’s sake and made a holiday out of that and some religious backing, to get more people roped up into it. The true mastermind is obviously hiding somewhere out there, and the Christmas propaganda is merely a means to get funding for his devious plots.

Both metas hummed thoughtfully, Superboy even crossing his arms as he examined the pile of photos and papers Tim had laid out in front of them. Bart was nodding, hand cupping his jaw. The looked dead serious.

Cassie wanted to excuse herself to use the toilet (lead lidden because this was Gotham, specifically Tim’s secret place, so of course it was super-proof) so she could laugh her ass off, but the temptation of seeing this trainwreck to its fiery end was too strong. 

It was taking up all of her amazonian training to keep her straight face, though. Diana would be so proud.

-I even searched the deep web for Santa related crimes, and looked up his name in disturbing forums. You wouldn't believe what some people, serial killers and rapists both, do using Christmas as a theme. I couldn't sort through it all, it was that sick.

Kon looked utterly disturbed- So what do we do now? Christmas is just around the corner!

Bart got up and started pacing back and forth- We need to hunt this dude down. Christmas is about goodness and family! We can’t let this, this… psychopath ruin it! Think about the children of the world!!

Oh god, this was getting even better.

-But how? The man sounds like a velocist of some kind, I mean, running and leaving gifts everywhere in the world in the span of a few hours? How are we even gonna catch him?

-Maybe if we dress up as Elves? -Cassie couldn't stop herself from suggesting, voice choked in her effort to be serious, but most likely interpreted by the boys as clogged up on rage- From what Tim wrote here -she raised a paper from the pile, hand shaking- it looks like they are his mind-controlled slaves. If he thinks we ran from his captivity, he might take us to the North Pole with him to brainwash us again… Oh, but I probably shouldn't dress up, so you know, I can be back up if he manages to catch you three…

-That’s a great idea! -Bart’s skinny arms wrapped themselves around her neck, and she took the chance to hide her face in his mane of hair, corners of her mouth twitching up.

-Should I also record it? -she asks, almost begging- In case people don’t believe us later, when we have to explain why we imprisoned Santa.

-Yes, I think that might be wise -Tim conceded, eyes scanning his papers again.

Thank the gods. That tape was going to be Cassie’s most precious treasure forever.

-I think he has a way of controlling people’s minds too. Like, parents and stuff. And then he makes them be the ones to give his children gifts in his name, as a way of gaining their trust. Sick fucker.

-So you think it’s a kinky thing for him?

-Kon, he literally categorizes kids as ‘good’ or ‘naughty’. 

-You are right, we need to stop this bastard.

Cassie loved her boys so, so much. She also owed Dick Grayson the biggest high five.

----.----

Red Hood was just lighting up a cigarette when he saw Red Robin making his way to his rooftop. Cursing, he dropped the entire thing and kicked it away. The brat knew Jason smoked, but Dick had been on his ass lately about being a good brother, and he still felt kinda bad about trying to kill the kid twice, so he was actually trying to set a good example. 

Besides, out of the two possible little brothers to take under his wing, he certainly drew the lucky ticket, because while Dickie had gotten stranded with the pompous brat, Jason had the all around good kid circling his radar more often than not. Like, Tim had broken him out of prison, a little after Jason had done his best to end his life; he couldn't get more forgiving and nice than that. It certainly beat making a murder League child let go of his katana on a nightly basis.

-I need your help.

He blinked. While they certainly had worked cases together in the past, they were always preluded by some kind of smalltalk,  little banter, at least a ‘hello’. Not this straight to the point bullshit.

He had the urge to take out his guns, to protect them both of any threat following Red Robin here. He refrained.

-What’s the matter, babybird? What’s wrong?

Tim looked almost frazzled. The cowl was hanging around his neck, just a domino preserving his identity, and his hair was a knotted mess. Disveleshed was too little a word for his state.

-We need to make a plan to catch Santa Claus before Christmas this year. His reign of terror must end. It’s still not too late.

Yeah, okay, he might need that cigarette after all, to hell with Dick’s bitching. Besides, how bad of a influence could that be, when this kid was obviously already on some kind of drugs? Like, Santa? Really?

-What… do you mean?

What followed was an hour long rant on the dangers of a super powered, evil version of the myth that Tim had somehow cooked up on his mind.

Was this real? The kid looked far too distraught for a joke.

-… Does Nightwing know about this? -whatever ‘this’ was- Bats?

Tim shook his hands frantically. Jason was legit getting worried.

-N was the one who told me about Santa -there, he knew this smelled like a Golden Boy trademark fuck up-, but he seems to be under his spell. Bruce as well. They tried to convince me he is some kind of good-hearted samaritan. Jason -he stated, breaking the no names during patrol rule, a show of just how deep into the rabbit hole he was- you wouldn't  believe what I found on the deepweb. Joker’s yearly special seems tame in comparison.

That, Jason could believe. But he was also fairly sure you could type about any word in the darkest side of the net, and find half a dozen kinky or deranged things that matched. Santa-temed crimes? More likely than anyone would believe. Real life Santa doing the deed? Not so much.

Tim had been too young when Dick lied to his face, most likely. And nowadays, the young vigilante was running on three hours of sleep on a good week. And it wasn’t even too far fetched to believe, on their line of business, specially when dealing with metas and supervillains day in and day out.

Still…

-Kid, I don’t know how to tell you this, but… Santa isn’t real -he told him, slowly, hands raised as if to touch his shoulders but not daring to actually make contact. Tim looked so manic he might actually nerve strike him.

The icy blue eyes were hidden under his mask, but Jason knew from the way he tensed that Tim was terrified.

-He got to you, too -he whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. Then, without giving Jason the chance to inquire further, he turned tail and disappeared into the night.

....

He really needed that cigarette.

----.----

When Drake told the family he was taking Damian under his wing for a case, everyone seemed so happy he couldn't just shoot the other man down. Besides, reluctant as he was to admit it, Red Robin was the superior detective in the entirety of the team, so there would be rewards for taking the blow to his pride and working with him.

He expected to be directed through some easy case, maybe a little puzzling but not too challenging. Or be sidelined while Drake worked through things, so he could learn by example.

This, though, this he hadn’t foresaw.

This case was way more serious.

-How come Father has allowed this depravancy to continue?! -exclaimed Damian, hands gripping the sheets of information tightly- This ‘Santa’s’ influence has been permitted to cement on too many people already! And it keeps growing!

-I know. Fuck, I know. But I can’t get anyone to help me. My team knows, but sadly we aren’t enough. Bruce and Dick don’t believe me, and neither does any other hero I contacted on the matter. It’s just like when B was missing in time; they either think I’m crazy, or try to sugarcoat things, like they would with a baby.

Damian snorted, disbelieving. Whatever his opinion might be on his predecessor, he at least knew to trust his insight in a case. Grandfather himself had recognized his genius on that field.

They were on Drake’s perch, his center of operations outside of Batman’s influence. He would never admit it out loud, but if Damian ever needed his own batcave, it would be just like this one. 

Now, the long table in front of him was completely covered in information, case reports, photos taken from live footage, deepweb forums’ conversations, history books…

-And you say this… monster, targets children?

-I mean, he brainwashes the parents too, but that seems like a plot to both increase his economic funds and to gain the children’s trust.

-How are you so sure they are his objective?

-The parents tell their children Santa is ‘always observing them’, and ask if they ‘have been good’ that year. If they aren’t perceived as obedient, Santa leaves them coal, which incentives them to do their best to change that by next year’s christmas. 

-Maybe the coal and gifts have mind control devices, or some magic?

-My thoughts exactly.

Damian frowns even deeper. He’s glad Drake is taking his detective training seriously, but if father himself is being deceived, he wonders what can the two of them (plus Drake’s team) do.

-What about Todd? Red Hood is proclaimed as Saint Protector of Children in Crime Alley, after all. He certainly has opinions about this ‘Santa’ person. 

Timothy shakes his head- He got Jason too. I suspect he’s been under his control ever since he was a child at the manor. 

-So, we are alone in this.

-Essentially, yes. Thankfully, not everyone celebrates christmas. Some religions flat out forbid it, so we won’t have as much ground to cover when we lay out a trap. We could choose a close by location and plan around it. 

He nods, back straight with purpose. He -and Drake, he supposes- would be freeing Father and Grayson, along with the rest of the victims, from this madman’s control. Maybe even Todd, if he has the time.

-I’m with you on this endeavor, Drake.

-Good. Remember we need to act natural in front of the family. If Santa catches wind of what we’re doing, he might focus his efforts in getting to us. 

Damian wants to say to let him come, he would show him why it's a bad idea to mess with his family. But Drake is, admittedly, the superior detective, and it seems he’s been working on this for a long time now. Damian will defer to his judgement this one time.

Drake’s superior knowledge and Damian’s unrivaled training might be what’s needed to orchestrate this ‘Santa’s’ downfall.

They will be a good team, he thinks.

[reineyday]

bnha characters as volleyball players (au headcanons)

i have never in my life played volleyball outside of gym class and the occasional beach jaunt, so this is all based off of what i learned from haikyuu LOL

anyways, this started as tags from this fanart by @syblatortue​ of deku, kacchan, kiri, sero, iida and shouto as vball players, and then it got away from me so if you wanna read 2.9k worth of headcanons about powerhouse athletics high school UA then go ahead and press “read more” :)

deku's the calculating setter like kenma and he fanboys over stats from the international to the national to the high school

kacchan used to make fun of him and look down on him bc he used to think too much on court to move properly, and as a kid kacchan used to think that it was spiking or bust so he always gave deku grief and bullied him over being slow and weak

in middle school kacchan was a starter since first year and eventually became the ace but deku was always second string setter

his athleticism was nothing to write home about but he was just good enough to make the bench

in their middle school tournament their starting setter got injured and deku had to step in to set for a match for the first time ever

powerhouse volleyball high school coach yagi toshinori is watching and he sees all the aborted plans in deku's setting choices

he sees the gutsy sets that miss and the one successful dump he did that threw everyone off-guard (even deku himself), and yagi remembers what it was like to be hungry for volleyball seeing the look in this kid's eyes and he recognizes the brain on him

their team loses there though bc the fact is that deku wasnt athletic enough to do it and kacchan is yelling and deku's crying

but yagi approaches deku (who freaks out bc all might is THE legendary vball player of their country, and the nation was SHOOK when after getting severely injured by a malicious spike in the wrong place he chose to coach high school vball, even if the school was a powerhouse school and also his alma mater lol)

but anyways deku babbles and fanboys even through his tears and says he got into UA but he's not sure he can make the vball team, and yagi says he sees the potential in deku's plays and if he trains hard every. single. day. from now until the tryouts at UA, he might make at least the bench

(cue montage)

kacchan is angry to see deku at tryouts and fuckn RAGING when deku more or less keeps up bc deku got buff since their last high school match

unfortunately for kacchan he is actually the one most familiar with deku's playing since they trained together in middle school too, and he almost pops a blood vessel just thinking it but ever since deku started actually being able to get to the ball in time, vball has been more fun ‘cuz the things deku ends up doing are fucking batshit crazy and his sets are begrudgingly his favourite to hit

deku sets right where kacchan can just hit the ball as violently as he can, and it sounds like a bomb goes off when the spike hits the ground

(kacchan also obviously has the best serves and he mixes it up with the power ones like his ap shots, or floaters when he's strategic; he knows how to read the opposing team and either wait or serve really fast and serves up high to blind them like his flashbomb explosions, and he’s really arrogant about his serves but at least he can back it up as per classic kacchan)

anyways they become a really intimidating duo, apart but especially together, because despite the way deku still occasionally cowers from kacchan’s rage and kacchan is often yelling and antagonizing deku, they can read each other really smoothly on court and they match each other really easily, and they both go for the really gutsy shit no one else would think to try (like samu and tsumu going for the freak quick with samu setting kind of gutsy)

kacchan is also antagonizing af and calls the other team extras lol

but yeah, those two along with renown olympic vball player todoroki enji's son shouto are the three most intimidating first years at UA

enji has a very aggressive playing style and where he targets people on the opposing team specifically to make them sweat, makes them feel like he’s hot on their heels even from the other side of the net, always glaring, always strong

shouto hates it and hates the way his dad made him train day in and day out just because he had a good reaction time and instincts for the ball when he was young

fuyumi and natsuo were slow as kids and got immediately dismissed bc of it bc to enji if they werent athletic enough for the ideal vball playing style as children then theyd never be athletic enough to beat all might’s vball career and metrics in the future

touya was fast enough but he overtrained and strained his knees and then continued straining them to play anyways till they were permanently damaged, and by the time he graduated middle school, his doctor put him on orders to never ever ever do anything that might be overly strenuous for his knees ever again

anyways, shouto plays very cool and detached, like even when he spikes the ball right into your face you’ll feel like he wasn’t looking; he’s a middle blocker like suna, stays calm but uses his whole body

deku eventually convinces him that playing with fire every once in a while, especially when he spikes, can be a good thing because at the end of the day, his dad may have taught him the tricks but it’s shouto himself who’s playing, and so it’s not his dad’s style, it’s his own

also the spikes just aren’t as good or as psychologically effective if shouto’s not 100p IN it when he goes to spike one of deku’s demanding sets

and im gonna say shouto is ambidextrous but more comfortable with his left hand in this volleyball au because shouto’s left side is his fire side, and it’s more parallel to the character to make his more aggressive spiking hand his left one but still have him be able to use his left hand for spikes too (it’s also SO stressful for opponents bc angles)

also yes he does indeed only play with his right hand (his ice side) when he gets into UA, and is initially very hellbent on proving to his father that he can become a pro vball player without being as aggressive as enji on court and without using his more dominant hand, the hand that his dad’s been focusing on whenever they trained at home, the hand he’s spent hours and hours spiking and serving with since he was like five years old

one day deku notices shouto’s writing with his left hand and then connects the dots and sort of badgers him into spiking one of his sets with his left hand too and then yeah shouto tells him his life story and deku manages to emotionally coerce him into being okay with his left-handed spikes

(shouto also feels better about it when deku points out the left-handed angles thing)

so yeah that’s the big three scary first year starters: calculating and gutsy deku, who occasionally makes plays so gutsy he’s at risk of twisting one of his limbs in a very scary way (he’s always bruised in weird ass places from volleyball); raging, aggressive but also cunning kacchan, who is undoubtedly the loudest on any court he’s on, and ambidextrous hot and cold shouto, who does a pretty solid general defense with little holes but has scary aggressive spikes

btw shouto’s got a fanclub and they call him the volleyball prince

also at one point they totally play a practice match against shiketsu and UA loses bc inasa starts antagonizing shouto for being exactly like his father (inasa asked for enji’s autograph after a match once when he was a kid and got rudely blown off) and shouto gets offended and starts targeting inasa and then they get outplayed (it was a close match though ‘cuz both of them couldnt get their heads out of their asses and both their teams were suffering as a result)

alrighty, the other players in that fanart lmao!

kirishimaaaaa my dude my bro, super solid libero, always pumps up the team, and his defense is unbreakable! will receive even the scariest, most powerful spikes and smile cheerfully through it; will always insist that you’re manly for playing with everything you have and never letting fear get in the way of going for it

his middle school had a huge and scary substitute gym teacher who didn’t have mercy and spiked hard right to the faces of the students, and kiri really wanted to run forward to receive the spike and yell about how unfair this teacher was but he froze because the spike seemed unforgiving and if he received it wrong, what if his nose broke? what if he fell and broke something from the impact? mina didnt pause though and she received the spike and told off their substitute teacher and then reported it to their homeroom teacher and it was so manly of her, he promised himself he would never hesitate just bc of a scary spike again

btw mina’s all-around athletic and could probably make it onto the girls vball team but she’s probably on the UA dance team (UA is a powerhouse school for many sports, and theyre famous for their athletics department bc they often hire (former) pro-athletes to teach and coach)

iida comes from a family of sprint runners and he’s the one they trust for the most running; he’s their first year decoy and he’s fast af for such a big guy, and he often also provides extra block support from zooming left and right

also enjoys helping out the managers and corralling his team into being good students; he’d offer to tutor kirishima but kiri seems to have fun trying to be friends with bakugou lol; he makes it known that he’s there if kiri wants some extra patience to go along with his studies though

sero guess blocks so accurately people like to say that he’s got tape coming from his elbows, bringing the ball straight to his arms so that he can block; actually he’s pretty known for having weirdly accurate control bumping the ball back from places other than his hands (esp his elbows though), like he’s just so aware of his body, and he uses everything he can to keep the ball off the ground so he’s good at general defense

some other people i wanna mention:

aizawa’s their supervising teacher and the first year homeroom teacher (he gets to hear bakugou explode both first thing in the morning AND right at the end of the day, oh joy); all might just coaches ‘cuz he does other former pro stuff during class time, so he somehow ended up in charge of the volleyball club after the previous teacher stopped being able to

he never went pro but he’s a black belt mixed martial artist, and he still does those parent-child karate classes with hitoshi (who is now close to black belt and on the demo team, since they’ve been doing this since hitoshi was like five) and eri (who just got her yellow belt! aizawa is soft)

only hizashi, nemuri, oboro and his kids know this but he’s also REALLY good at doing aerial silk and he looks graceful af when he does it

hitoshi started kinda learning aerial silk when hizashi took him to a rock climbing place that had the silks on the ceiling (dont at me, there’s a place EXACTLY like this where i used to live lmao) and found out they offer classes there, and hizashi laughed and said “yknow your dad is pro at those right”

ochako is their first year manager, and when everyone is confused about kacchan continuing to call deku something so mean, she talks about how the nickname is cute and gives off the impression that he’s trying his best and when deku grins and blushes and seems to be happy with it, the whole team starts calling him deku with the same intentions and fondness behind it

every time other people hear UA calling their starting setter “deku” theyre so confused

nejire is the third year manager leaving and she does gymnastics and dance outside of school

mirio is the ace and his thing is that he is very strong and very precise, and he moves like he phases through the other players

tamaki is a middle blocker that can adapt all kinds of playing strategies pretty fast as long as he’s got time to digest them and decent food in his stomach—he’s a great decoy ‘cuz his spikes are hard and he’s pretty fast too, and while he prefers read blocking, there are a few times he guess blocks and it’s accurate af and kinda scary honestly

tamaki and mirio are also pretty fearsome ‘cuz people start off scared of mirio’s power spikes and serves (btw his goal is to spike a million service aces LOL), and then tamaki kind of surprises them ‘cuz he seems to be able to just? do everything??? (and theyre extra surprised bc no doubt he’ll be talking himself down and doubting himself before the match and the opponents will think like “oh good he’s mentally weak” and he kind of is but also holy shit??? we got blocked AGAIN???) and so they sort of only keep a peripheral eye on mirio while they start focusing on tamaki, and then all of a sudden mirio’s not where you thought he was and how’d he get there so fast and there other players in the way??? and then mirio spikes one in

this isn’t really related to anything else but you BET mirio can bend low and do insanely accurate bump receives from pretty close to the ground like! his thighs and knees are legend

we don’t really know any second year bnha students, but i’d like to think their starting team isn’t just first years, so i’d say like… hm or mb tamaki is starting setter (all the stuff about adapting and easily digesting strategies still applies, as well as his flexible skillset, it just now includes setting) and mirio is his ace, but all might puts deku in a lot more than you’d expect a bench player to be subbed in not only ‘cuz it shakes up the other team to see such a meek-looking kid do these gutsy-ass sets, but also bc it’s good for tamaki’s mental health that he feels like he’s got a really great setter right there supporting him as well, even though he knows (objectively) that he can hold the fort on his own

so yeah, id say tamaki and mirio for sure starters (mirio is captain), kirishima’s a starter (he’s always been really good, he just used to get a little scared off in matches sometimes, but since the thing with mina, he’s been really gunning for it, and also conveniently their last really good libero graduated the year before and they didn’t really have a good backup), shouto’s a starter (he’s lowkey mad about it bc it feels like he’s fulfilling his dad’s legacy and he doesnt want to be), and probably two second years, that feels fair

bakugou’s benched bc his temper’s still a little too unwieldy for the court (much to his dismay), sero’s still patching up holes in his defense, and deku could stand to watch other people’s playing styles, but u bet theyre all fearsome af when theyre on court: deku seems to be the only one that seems to be able to bring out shouto’s terrifying spikes for now; after their first qualifiers, rumours fly around the vball circuit about his angry pinch server that’s so mad he’s not a regular, he takes it all out on his serves and rip the team that has to try and receive them

well okay, so bakugou is the only that i can qualify as actually fearsome bc even when he’s being intimidating sero is a pretty chill dude, and deku looks too nice to really be scary so the opponents usually arent scared until he starts playing and then for them it’s just this internal monologue of “what the fuck? what the FUCK???”

and sero, while chill, is the type to be aggressively cheerful and grin really wide after he blocks and gives you, the opponent, really supportive feedback that sort of still offends you but in a way you cant refute because every word he said was nice and his demeanour was nice too and yet? you kinda wanna strangle him??? and then he laughs winsomely and blocks your next spike too (like, “awh i noticed you have a tendency to follow here when xyz happens, but better luck next time right? that’s usually a pretty good play”)

and of COURSE their school banner says “plus ultra”

ANYWAYS i went OFF lmao i can’t believe i really wrote 2.9k of headcanons for this

i have waaaay more ideas about what the rest of the class and other characters are up to in this au that is powerhouse athletics high school UA so if for some reason you got all the way to the end then thank you and please interact if you wanna talk more about it!!!

[adenei]

Auror 99 - Epilogue

I hope you’re all ready for this! It’s heist time!

AO3 || FFN

a/n: I based this off of the season 3 heist, and some of the plot points and a few lines are taken directly from the show. I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or Brooklyn 99. Thanks for following this crazy story!

Epilogue: The Heist

“Captain Holt,” Kingsley said after apparating directly into his office. 

“Ah, King, you made it,” Holt said, looking at his watch. “Right on time, too.”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t easy transporting a large portrait under a disillusionment charm from England to the United States,” Kingsley commented. “Care to fill me in now that we’re in person? Your correspondence gave away very little.”

“I can, but I don’t have much time before the squad arrives for their shift,” Holt said. “You may place the portrait on that easel over there. It is an honor to make your acquaintance,” he nodded to the portrait.

“And yours as well. While I don’t wish to speak poorly of my permanent residence, it is nice to leave the wall of the Headmistress’ office.” The voice of Albus Dumbledore could be heard through the Disillusionment charm Kingsley had placed on the frame.

“What about your other portraits, Albus?” Kingsley asked in confusion of his statement.

“Ah, yes, I do travel to those occasionally as well, but this may be my only opportunity to ever travel outside England. Though, I believe Captain Holt is pressed for time and would like to have a word before you must take your leave,” Dumbledore observed.

“Thank you, Albus,” Holt said before turning to Kingsley. “For the last two years, Detective Peralta and I have engaged in a ridiculous Halloween bet, now known as the Halloween Heist. Normally, I don’t engage in such frivolous antics. However, we are currently tied 1-1, and I intend on winning the tiebreaker and putting an end to this, once and for all.”

“I see, but what does this have to do with Albus’ portrait?” Kingsley asked.

“Ah, yes. Ever since your team left following the closing of Gerteso’s case, I planted the seed in Peralta’s mind for him to contact Nolan about returning to help him win.”

“So you think Nolan is going to be here today?” Kingsley said. “Now that I think about it, he and Jason did take the day off…” 

A wicked grin spread across Holt’s face. “Just as I predicted. Now, I’ve positioned the easel for Albus’ portrait so that he can observe everything that’s happening in the precinct, unbeknownst to anyone.”

“I will do my best, but I must say my lip reading skills are not up to snuff,” Albus admitted with a chuckle. 

“There will be no need for lip reading,” Holt said as he made his way back over to his desk and pointed to a contraption that looked like a radio. “I planted a bug on Peralta’s desk, so you should be able to hear the conversations without any issue.”

Albus nodded as Kingsley interjected. “Well, good luck to you. I’ll be taking my leave now, and will be back in the morning to retrieve the portrait.”

Holt nodded, as Kingsley disapparated. 

~o~

“It’s the best day of the year!” Peralta said excitedly as the squad gathered in the briefing room for their meeting. “The day we can finally determine once and for all who is the amazingest ‘amazing detective/genius!’”

“Yes, which we both know will be me,” Holt retorted. “This year, we will both be attempting to steal the same item. This—” he held up a briefcase and opened it to reveal a gold crown, “will be locked away in the interrogation room. The case itself cuffed to the table. We decided to use a neutral object this year instead of Peralta trying to steal something of mine.”

“Yeah, and whoever is in possession of the crown at midnight will be crowned the amazing detective/genius. Which will be me,” he added with a fake cough.

Holt shook his head in mock annoyance. “We will see about that. Now, as for teams: we each can choose who we want to work with, and as I was the victor last year, I’ll choose first.”

“I guess that’s only fair,” Jake said, rolling his eyes, and pretending to be affronted.

“I choose Terry,” Holt said swiftly.

“Alright, alright, brawns over brains. I get it,” Jake commented.

“What?” Terry asked, but Jake ignored him as he made his own pick.

“Charles,” he said. 

He didn’t notice that Amy almost stood up with a smug look on her face, only for it to fall slightly as he chose his best friend over his girlfriend. Amy looked to Holt in anticipation next. Maybe he’d choose her instead.

“Yes! The dream team rides again!” Charles said, pumping his fist in the air.

“Gina,” Holt said automatically, as Gina stood up and joined the captain.

“Rosa!” Jake said.

“Dope,” Rosa said as Amy exclaimed,

“What?!”

“Sorry, Ames, I can’t trust you. You’ll do anything to please Captain Holt,” Jake explained his reasoning.

“Well, fine, maybe I wanted to be on Captain Holt’s team anyway,” Amy said, trying to hide the look of hurt on her face.

Holt held up his hand. “Sorry Santiago, I can’t trust you either, given your current relations with Detective Peralta.

“Wait, so nobody wants me?” Amy asked. Both Jake and Holt looked at each other awkwardly and shook their heads.

“You can be with us!” Hitchcock said happily. Everyone forgot he and Scully were still sitting in the back.

“Um, I’m good,” Amy said.

“Uh, yeah no,” Jake added. “Let the heist begin!” he said as he ran out of the room quickly to meet with his team. 

“Charles, you guard the case from the viewing room. I guarantee that Holt will send Gina in there. Rosa, you know what you have to do,” Jake said as Rosa nodded and Charles took off.

Jake pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. Heist has begun. You know the drill. He pressed send and looked up to find Amy standing in front of him.

“Oh! Hey Ames, what’s up?” he asked.

She looked at him suspiciously. “Who were you just texting?” 

“Me? Texting? Oh, just Charles. You know, making sure he made it to his post alright.” Jake shoved his phone in his pocket.

Amy squinted her eyes at him in question, but didn’t argue. “Listen, Jake, you really hurt my feelings back there.”

“I didn’t mean to, Ames. You know how important this is to me.”

“So you know I want to help, then! Let me help, Jake, we’ll be unstoppable! Just give me a chance.”

“Sorry Ames, but I can’t,” Jake said. His eyes shifted down. “Nice try, Captain, but I’m not going to fall for your games this time. Your little spy is not getting any information out of me.”

“Jake, why are you talking to my breasts?” Amy asked with a disgusted look on her face.

“Because you’re obviously wearing a wire,” he said in the most ridiculous way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got paperwork to do,” Jake said as he turned around and sat down at his desk. 

Meanwhile, Amy walked over to Captain Holt’s office and knocked on the door. 

“Come in, Santiago,” Holt called. Sergeant Jeffords and I were just finishing up here.” He nodded to Terry who gave him an unsure look, but walked out of the room, having been dismissed.

Amy hovered in the doorway. She wanted Jake to hear how Holt would gladly use her help for the heist to stick it to him. “Captain Holt, I really want to make Jake pay for not choosing to have me on his team. I’m yours, do with me what you please,” she pleaded to Holt.

“—Title of your sex tape!” she heard Jake call from his desk.

“I’m sorry, Santiago, but I have no use for you this year. You’re too much of a risk, and I can’t have a late addition ruin everything. I will reign supreme,” Holt said.

“But Captain—” Amy tried to interject.

“You’re dismissed, Santiago,” Holt said with finality. He shut his door and walked over to his desk as Amy sulked to hers.

“She’s telling the truth, you know,” Albus said from his perch from the corner.

“Maybe that’s the case, but I’ve already planned every step precisely and nothing will go wrong,” Holt said.

“Be that as it may, Captain Holt. I know I am only a portrait of my former self, but I assure you I can sense when shenanigans are afoot.”

“What does Peralta have planned? Did you see anything while I was speaking with Jeffords?”

“No, no. I only sensed there may be an additional person in the precinct,” Albus said as his eyes looked above him.

“HA! I knew he’d enlist Cooper and Brown. He’s falling right into my trap.”

~o~

“Charles, you can keep trying to distract me, but you’ll never win. How’s it feel to be on the losing team,” Gina taunted him.

“Come on, Gina, I promise you won’t be disappointed this time!” Charles argued.

“No, Charles! I will not be set up on another blind date with a Boyle cousin. I respect myself too much,” Gina argued. “This body is a shrine and I have standards to uphold.”

Charles looked up and saw Rosa’s face appear in the window for a split second. That was his cue. “It’s not a Boyle cousin! It’s a recommendation from Genevieve. Here, Gina, look! I have a picture of him. Just let me find it,” he said as he dug into his pockets. He pulled the picture out and let it slip out of his hands, falling to the floor.

“Could you be any clumsier, Charles? GOD!” Gina exclaimed. 

She looked down and saw that the picture was of a very attractive looking man. She bent over to pick the photograph up, and Charles used that moment to give the thumbs up. A split second later, decoy detonators were running rampant around the floor. This caused Gina to scream and jump up on the table as the figures were scurrying around making loud noises.

“Charles, do something! What are those things! They’re going to kill us! Charles!” Gina yelled dramatically.

While this diversion was taking place, Rosa was working swiftly to unlock the door to the interrogation room. When it didn’t work, she broke the glass on the window, and then somersaulted through, meeting Ron, who had apparated into the room. Rosa moved over to the briefcase and began cutting into the leather as Ron reached into his pocket and grabbed Peruvian Darkness Powder. He tossed it toward the window and it immediately exploded, covering the area in complete darkness. He used his wand to control the spread of the powder so it isolated itself in front of the window.

  “We’ve got two minutes before this starts to weaken,” Ron told her. 

“Got it,” Rosa said, the crown in her hands. She flipped over the briefcase and zipped her jacket, stuffing the crown inside. “We’re good,” she said gruffly. “Wait for phase two in the evidence room.” 

Ron nodded as Rosa slipped out of the door. He waved his wand to repair the shattered glass, and flipped the briefcase over, repairing the hole Rosa cut as well. He noticed the powder starting to fade and apparated back to the evidence room.

~o~

Holt remained in his office, pretending to be nonplussed by the ongoing heist, and attempted to focus on his paperwork. Terry knocked on his door and came in.

“Hey, Captain, do you have any idea when I should tell Sharon to come in. The twins are almost done trick or treating, and I’m not sure she can hold them off much—” Holt cut Terry off with a raise of his hand.

“Shhh,” he said as he turned his radio up slightly to better hear Jake’s voice.

“Great! Now, all I have to do is sit here and guard this filing cabinet until midnight. Hello, victory!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Rosa said indifferently as she walked away.

“Now, Terry, call her now. It is time,” Holt said.

“Uh, okay,” Terry said as he left Holt’s office. 

Holt watched Terry go, and waited for his wife and kids to enter through the elevator to take his leave from the office.

“Hey, girls!” Holt heard Jake said happily as he slipped out onto the terrace. 

He picked up his drill from the hiding spot and waited for Jake to be appropriately distracted. Stealthily, he moved towards the filing cabinet and unscrewed the back. Holt slipped the crown out, replaced the back and stood up to photobomb one of the shots before escaping into the breakroom. 

Pretending to be interested in the snack table, he noticed Amy nod to the breakroom and Jake looked over and saw him alone. He quickly disposed of the crown in the garbage can, and grabbed a handful of cheese puffs. I knew I couldn’t trust Santiago, he thought to himself.

“Since when do you eat cheese puffs?” Jake asked as he strolled in.

“If you must know, Peralta, they are one of my—” Holt paused briefly, “guilty pleasures.”

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you after all,” Jake said with a laugh. “Quick, let’s see how many we can fit in our mouths at one time!” he said.

“I’ll...pass,” Holt said.

“Wait a minute, if they’re your guilty pleasure, why aren’t you eating any?” Jake crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I was going to enjoy them in my office,” Holt said quickly. 

“A-huh, well after you, then,” Jake said, gesturing to the door.

Holt had no choice but to follow him out and return to his office as Jake returned to his desk, petting the filing cabinet as he sat down. Jake pretended to get back to work, but pulled out his phone and typed out a message. Pretty sure Holt took crown. In breakroom. Initiate phase two.

After he returned his phone to his pocket, he noticed Charles walking over to his desk. “Charles! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be guarding the crown!”

“I’m sorry, Jake! You know I’d never betray you,” Charles said quickly.

“Why do I sense there’s a but?” Jake asked suspiciously.

“Because there is one! Come on, Jake, I thought you were smarter than that,” Gina chimed in with a guffawed voice.

“Gina? Where’d you come from? Nevermind. Charles, why aren’t you watching the briefcase?” Jake asked again.

“Well, Jakey, Gina agreed to go on a date with Nadia! But I had to leave the briefcase unattended…”

“Charles!” Jake said as his hands reached up to pull his hair.

“Jake, you can stop the act. I know the crown was obviously taken from the briefcase.” Gina told him.

“What?” Jake tried to play it off like he had no idea what Gina was talking about, but his facial expression was traitorous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t been to the interrogation room at all!”

“Drop the act, Jake. I’m Gina Linetti and I know everything. Did you really think that distraction worked? I knew exactly what you were doing. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“What’s all this?” Captain Holt asked as he walked out of his office. “Last time I checked this is a precinct, not daytime television drama!”

“Sir, Gina is wrongfully accusing me of taking the crown!” Jake defended.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem, Peralta. Where’s the lie?” Holt asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Jake’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water before he dropped the act. “Okay, fine, we have it, but you’ll never find it!” he admitted with an air of superiority. His hand immediately went to lean on the filing cabinet, pretending it was still there. 

Captain Holt let out an abrupt laugh. “In the top drawer of your filing cabinet? Please, Peralta, you’re playing like an amateur.”

“Would I really put the most beloved object of this life changing event in such a normal place?” Jake retorted.

“Why don’t you open the top drawer and let us all see.”

“Well, fine, if you must check…” Jake opened the top drawer, revealing an empty spot. Feigning shock, he looked up at Holt, then at everyone who was standing around. “Rosa! It’s gone. Where did it go? Tell me you borrowed it!”

Rosa had joined the circle now. “Why would I take it? That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“But then where did it go?” Jake looked at Holt. “There’s no way you could have stolen it. I’ve been at my desk the entire time.”

“Ah, yes, you’ve been here, but you allow yourself to be distracted far too easily, Peralta,” Holt said as he pulled out his phone. 

After a few clicks of the touchscreen he held out the phone for Jake to see. Sharon had sent him the picture she’d taken of Jake and the kids, with Holt photobombing with the crown in the background.

“Dammit! I should have known you’d use Terry’s girls to distract me. Not cool, Captain, not cool.” Jake shook his head, before looking up. “But wait, you were in the breakroom right after that!” He looked at Charles and Rosa before continuing, “Holt stashed the crown in the breakroom!”

The group made their way over quickly, each team trying to beat the other in an attempt to regain possession of the crown. Jake stopped abruptly at the head of the pack, causing everyone to run into him and each other. “Wait!” he turned to Holt. “That means you lied to me about the cheese puffs! That hurts, Da—I mean, Captain. I thought we were bonding over junk food.”

“Peralta, do you really think I would consume that cancerous trash?” Holt asked loftily.

“Well, that sounds a bit harsh,” Jake said, but then shook his head. “Where is it?” 

Holt walked over to the garbage can. “I had to stash it somewhere quickly so you wouldn’t see. So naturally, I placed it here,” he said, gesturing to the trash. “And now, I can retrieve it and keep it in my possession for the last hour. Looks like I have outsmarted you once more, Peral—” Holt cut off because as he lifted the lid off of the garbage can, he realized the crown was missing.

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked.

“It’s not there. It’s not there! Peralta, what’d you do with the crown? I know you took it!” 

“How could I have taken it? I was at my desk the entire time after we both left. It’s not like I can use magic or anything,” Jake said with a laugh. He didn’t realize what had slipped out of his mouth until he saw the look on Charles’ face. “I mean, obviously, magic doesn’t exist, duh…”

“Peralta, you’re not fooling anyone! I know you’ve got Cooper and Brown lurking around the precinct somewhere, helping with your plan. Did you really think you could hide that from me?”

“What?! I don’t know what you’re talking a—” 

“Peralta! Get them out here. Now.” 

Jake let out a sigh. “Fine. How’d you know?” 

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message. Jig is up. Holt knows. Come back to the breakroom.

“How did I know? I practically gave you the idea to call them back! ‘You must miss your British friends. It’s a shame you can’t collaborate with them on anything else,’” Holt mimicked the words Jake remembered hearing more than once since the Gerteso case closed.

“Aw, man! You and your reverse psychology. Come on, Captain! Why do you always have to play the weird mind games?”

“Maybe you should put your detective skills to better use, and pick up on it, then,” Holt clapped back. “Ah, Brown! Cooper! So nice of you to join our heist. Though I’m sorry to say you’ve found yourself on the losing team.” 

Harry and Ron both walked through the door and began exchanging greetings with everyone. “Wait, losing team? You just said yourself you didn’t know where the crown went!” Jake interrupted.

“And you seemed just as shocked as I was,” Holt commented.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Charles interjected. “Where is the crown? Who’s telling the truth?”

“Sergeant Jeffords?” Holt said, looking at Terry.

“Uh, sorry Captain, I got tied up with Sharon and the girls.” Terry shrugged.

“WHAT?!” Captain Holt shouted. 

“Ha ha!” Jake pumped his fist in the air. “Looks like you’re going to lose after all, Captain! Nolan and Jason here did what Terry couldn’t. Better choose wiselier next time!”

“Er, Jake, we don’t have it either,” Ron admitted. 

Jake’s premature celebrations were cut short. “What?”

“I snuck in to get it, but it was already gone,” Harry explained.

Jake’s furrowed brow quickly turned up and a smile plastered on his face. “Ah, I see what you’re doing. Very clever! Make them think we don’t have it. Don’t worry, Cooper, it’s hidden well enough so Holt we’ll never find it!” 

“No, really, Jake. We don’t have it,” Ron’s face was completely serious.

“But then—” Jake looked at Holt. “Who took it?”

“Check the security tapes!” Rosa said.

“Yes, quickly, we don’t have a lot of time!” Holt said.

The group moved around to the computers that had the security footage on it while Holt slipped into his office quickly. He pretended to shuffle papers on his desk, his back to the door as he asked, “Did you see anyone enter the breakroom?”

Albus spoke slowly. “I did see someone enter, but the scuffle of your squad blocked most of my view.”

Holt shook his head. “I should have anticipated the layout of the precinct.”

“I am sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance. I did see Harry and Ronald try and retrieve the crown, and their look of concern when it wasn’t there, however.”

“Harry and—oh, you mean Jason and Nolan. My apologies, I do try to forget their true identities. I must pretend I do not know of their existence, or I risk getting Kingsley into a deal of trouble.”

“Captain Holt, they found some—” Harry walked into the room followed closely by Ron. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one. Didn’t your superiors teach you to knock when entering a room?” Holt said quickly. 

“The door was open,” Ron said quickly. “What’s in the corner over there, Jason?”

“Nothing that pertains to you,” Holt said.

“It’s a disillusionment charm. Is someone there? Kingsley? Jake said you might enlist his help,” Ron said suspiciously.

“Now, now, boys, I can assure you I am not Minister Shacklebolt, but he did answer Captain Holt’s request for assistance,” came Dumbledore’s voice from the invisible spot in the corner.

“Professor Dumbledore?!” both boys gasped.

“Only in portrait form. You’ll never believe the lengths Kingsley had to go to in order to get Minerva to oblige. It’s been a nice vacation.”

Ron broke out into laughter. “Well played, Captain Holt. It’s a shame Jake can’t know.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure your reunion can continue later, but did you not say evidence has been uncovered?”

“Oh, yeah, let’s go,” Ron said as Harry and Holt followed.

“What janitor was on tonight?” Rosa asked.

“Should we check the dumpsters?” Charles suggested.

“What is this?” Captain Holt cut in.

“A janitor emptied the trash shortly after you put the crown there! Look, there’s a name tag.” Jake pointed to the screen.

“It says ‘Al’,” Harry pointed out.

“Does anyone know an Al?” Captain Holt asked to a sea of shaking heads.

“Someone has to know..” Charles thought out loud.

“The late night cleaner shift would have ended fifteen minutes ago,” Terry reminded them. “So Al’s not even here.”

“How are we supposed to find him, then?” Gina asked.

“Where’s the directory?” Holt said, looking at Gina.

“That? I threw it out.” Gina said unapologetically.

“Gina—” Terry was about to scold her for not holding onto important documents.

“Wait a minute,” Rosa cut in, “Who sends Christmas cards to everyone in the office?”

“Amy!” Jake said, immediately moving over to her desk. “A ha!” His finger skimmed the list of names and addresses. He secretly loved her organizational skills and knack for keeping things orderly. “Here it is!”

“How much time do we have?” Holt asked.

“Thirty minutes,” Charles said, checking his watch.

“His apartment’s only seven blocks away, we can make it!” Jake said. 

He froze briefly as he and Captain Holt both stared at each other. In a split second, they were both running for the elevator, followed by the other members of their teams. The group of eight ran the entire distance to the janitor’s apartment and quickly entered the building.

“The elevator’s broken!” Charles exclaimed as Jake was gasping for air, incredibly out of breath.

“How many...floors?” he asked between breaths.

“Seventeen,” Rosa said with an eye roll.

Holt and Jake shared another brief look before the race continued up seventeen flights of stairs. The rest of the teams followed closely behind. By the time they reached the seventeenth floor, Jake checked his watch.

“Ha! Ten minutes to spare. My lungs are on fire.” Jake said as he knocked on Al’s apartment door. 

A woman answered, looking rather annoyed.

“Hello, Ma’am,” Captain Holt said, cutting Jake’s greeting off. “Does Al live here? May we speak to him?”

“It’s really important. Will only take a second,” Jake added as the rest of the group was appearing now.

“He’s not here,” the woman said. “He went up to the roof.”

“What?” Jake asked, now leaning against the door jamb. 

“Sorry. If you want to talk to him, you’ll have to go up there.” The woman shut the door in their faces.

“That’s another fourteen flights of stairs,” Holt said.

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die,” Jake said dramatically.

“Good, you stay here and recover and I’ll go speak to Al,” Holt said as he started back towards the stairs.

“Not a chance!” Jake said, rallying his energy.

Eight minutes later, Jake and Holt burst through the door to the rooftop. “I...did it….was here….first!” Jake managed to say before he retched to the side. 

He was able to make it a few more paces as Holt called for Al. Jake threw up a second time as they looked around. 

“There’s no Al here,” came a voice. Someone in the same janitor’s outfit appeared from behind a corner.

“Ah, no! Ames, what are you doing?” Jake asked, clearly surprised.

“I’m here to tell you that neither of you won the heist this year.”

“Wait, what?” Rosa called as the rest of the group appeared through the doorway and came up behind Holt and Jake.

“This is preposterous! You don’t have the crown. Al does. Where is he?”

“It was me all along,” Amy said triumphantly.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.

“Did you really think I wasn’t expecting the two of you to cast me off to the side this year? I used that to my advantage to take you both down.”

“What do you—” Jake started to say.

“For the past three months I made sure to drop hints of how much Captain Holt’s approval means to me whenever you’d bring up the heist,” she said to Jake, but quickly acknowledged Holt. “Which I do, by the way!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “That’s no different than normal. So what?”

“And I’d also manage to slip in a few words to Captain Holt about how well our relationship is going, so he’d think I’m more loyal to you,” Amy said as she nodded to Jake.

“But...you are, aren’t you?” Jake asked.

“Really? You’re asking me that when you wouldn’t even divulge any details of your plans?”

“And you wonder why I said I couldn’t trust you,” Jake mumbled.

“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Terry cut in.

“I’m getting there, Sarge,” Amy said as she looked over to the rest of the group. “Oh, hey Nolan. Hey, Jason. I knew you’d call them in,” she said to Jake.

“No you didn’t,” Jake protested.

“Really? Then care to explain why else you’d wake up early in the morning and I’d hear you giggling at text message conversations? Did you really think I had no idea you’d included them in the whole thing? Honestly, it’s a little insulting. And how did you two get away from your wives for the day?” Amy asked.

Harry and Ron both looked guilty. “Er, we told them we were on a mission,” Ron said.

“...And you really think we believed that?” Hermione walked out from the same area Amy was hiding, followed by a second person.

Ron and Harry were white as a sheet. “Oh yeah, I called your wives in. Turns out Charlotte and Nolan are married, they just didn’t want us to know. And this is Lucy, Jason’s wife. Charlotte suggested she join our team.

“It’s about time I got to meet you all,” Ginny said with a genuine smile on her face. “It’s a shame, really, Jason. I could have been such a vital part of your team, but I guess you haven’t bothered to tell your American friends about me, have you?”

“It was a mission before. We don’t talk personal on missions,” Harry said through gritted teeth, worried she was going to give something away. Ginny shot him a look that said, ‘I’m not stupid, so bugger off.’

“Guys, come on, it’s late. Heists are dumb, anyways. Can we wrap this up?” Terry complained.

“Yes, I am quite interested in how Santiago pulled this off,” Holt chimed in.

“Right,” Amy said. “You’ve already heard the first part of my plan, which was to get both of you to not trust me for your teams. Once I knew Jake was bringing in Jason and Nolan, I recruited Charlotte and Lucy. Charlotte was staking out the opposite end of the hallway by the interrogation room and was keeping me updated on Jake’s plan, since we all know he has to make a move first..at least for the heists, anyways. But it was when I was playing the ‘hurt’ card and talking to Jake when I noticed Captain Holt was speaking at his desk, so I asked Lucy to investigate.”

“I crawled through the air ducts to find out what was going on. Turns out Holt had an extra spy of his own,” Ginny explained.

“I knew you’d call King!” Jake exclaimed.

“It wasn’t King. He used King’s connections to get a very important device to help spy on us. One that could see, hear, and talk to, but no one else could see.” Amy was being careful not to give the identity of the magic portrait away. She knew it was Dumbledore’s portrait, but Holt, Terry and Gina couldn’t know.

“No!” Jake shouted. He looked at Harry and Ron, who nodded. He’d sent them into Holt’s office to figure out who he was consulting, and they managed to slip him a text, telling him who it was. “Okay, Captain. I have to admit, that was a solid idea.”

“Thank you,” Holt said as he nodded.

“Anyways, Lucy also heard about Holt’s plan when he told Terry how he was going to steal the crown from your cabinet. You actually made it quite easy for me to get to it,” Amy commented.

“So you dressed up as Al and emptied the garbage,” Jake finished.

“Exactly. I knew you’d watch the security footage and use my address book to find Al’s address. Luckily, his wife was willing to play along in our charade. I did have more planned for Charlotte and Lucy, but you just made it too easy for us, so we’ve been celebrating our victory instead.”

“But then where is the crown now?” Holt asked.

“At Shaw’s, where my inauguration as ‘amazing detective/genius’ will be held,” Amy answered.

“Man, Ames, I love you. I’m impressed,” Jake said. It took him a moment to realize what he’d said.

“You—you do?” Amy asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

“What?” Jake asked, still not fully understanding what just happened.

Charles was squealing like a little girl in the background. “Jake just told Amy he loved her!”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did,” Jake said with an awkward laugh.

“Did you mean it?” Amy asked.

“I—yeah, I did,” Jake admitted. 

It wasn’t his intention to tell her how he felt in front of the entire precinct as well as his wizard friends, but it was too late now. Amy’s face broke into a sweet smile and it looked like she was trying not to cry. “Aw, I love you too, Jake.”

He walked over and kissed her as everyone whooped and cheered. When he broke apart, she looked him squarely in the eyes. “Don’t think for a second I’m giving you that crown,” she said fiercely.

Everyone laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You won, fair and square. Could you carry me down to the first floor, though? I don’t think my legs can walk back down thirty one flights of stairs.”

Amy, Charlotte and Lucy all laughed. “What’s so funny?” Ron asked.

“I forgot to tell you. The elevator isn’t broken! We just put a sign up to make you take the stairs. We knew it’d buy us enough time until midnight,” Amy said with a triumphant smile on her face.

“My girlfriend’s evil and I love it,” Jake said. 

“Can we get to Shaw’s now?” Rosa asked, trying to push things along.

“To Shaw’s!” Jake agreed, as they all made their way to the elevator.

~o~

“All hail the crown of destiny!” Jake said as he placed the crown on Amy’s head. “And she who wears it. Amy Santiago, the—”

“Queen!” Amy interjected.

“—Queen of the 99,” Jake finished.

“And?” Amy asked, waiting patiently.

Holt and Jake both inhaled before saying, “Amy Santiago is an amazing detective/genius.”

Everyone clapped and enjoyed their drinks. Ron leaned over to Hermione and said, “So, how much trouble are we in for lying?”

“I think we can let it slide, considering we won,” Hermione said as she nodded to Ginny.

“Er, Lucy, where are the kids?” Harry asked.

“Bill and Fleur have them,” Ginny said, “And George and Angelina took Rose and Hugo.”

Harry and Ron nodded as Ron changed the subject, satisfied the kids were in good hands. Not that he’d have anything to worry about with his family on standby. “Nice of them to include us in this, yeah?” 

“Yes, it’s nice to see them again. Though, we shouldn’t make this regular. We’re already pushing it with how much they know,” Hermione chided.

“You’re probably right. It’s a shame Dumbledore can’t join us,” Harry said.

“Oh, yeah, have Holt walk right in with his portrait. Wouldn’t that be a sight!” Ron sniggered.

“I already messaged Kingsley, telling him we knew about his involvement, and he’s free to pick the portrait up,” Harry said.

“I can’t believe McGonagall even agreed to it!” Ginny added.

The conversation shifted as members from the squad came over and joined them. It was a happy reunion of the two teams, even knowing they couldn’t make a habit of it. The trio resolved to enjoy the night before returning back to England in the morning as they sipped on their drinks. Jake was filling Ginny in on the things Harry neglected to tell her about their time in New York City a few months back, including the infamous precinct chant. As if on cue, Ginny got to witness the chant firsthand.

Terry held up his glass and yelled, “NINE-NINE!” 

“NINE-NINE!”

[365days365movies]

January 2, 2021: Mission: Impossible (Part 1)

My mission, should I choose to accept it...

YEAH I KNOW IT’S A CLICHÉ. I just wanted to say it once.

So, previously on this blog, I watched the film Top Gun. Also previously, I didn’t like the film Top Gun that much, especially not its main character, Maverick, played by one illustrious Tom Cruise. Goodbye, Maverick. I banish ye from this sacred place, for this is a place where your toxic, arrogant, douchebaggery will NOT stand. 

Instead, we’re gonna jump into a separate Tom Cruise vehicle, one so iconic that he launched a multi-million dollar, 6-movie franchise, and made himself known as an actor who (obsessively) does his own stunts. Which, of course, he likes to let people know, and ramps up with every successive movie. Y’hear that he’s going to space next? Like, real actual space? Don’t know what action’s going to happen there, but call me cautiously intrigued. And by the way, I know that Top Gun: Maverick is coming out this year, and that it’s technically a continuation of the original Top Gun franchise, but as I said...Maverick is no longer allowed here. It’s all Ethan Hunt now.

A few things before I start the recap. First off: did I like this movie? And the answer is...I mean, yeah? I’d like to see more Mission: Impossible movies after this, if I’m honest. I’ve heard that Henry Cavill’s lip is amazing in the most recent one, so call me interested in getting to that point. I mean, that’s 5 movies, and I’m not doing that this month, I tell you what. Still, consider them on my list! As for this movie, let’s get into it. Might help me dissect my feelings a little better.

Second, I should say that Mission: Impossible (the whole series, but especially this film), is loosely based upon the original television series from the 1960s, starring Leonard Nimoy, Peter Graves, Martin Landau, Lesley Ann Warren, and more. It was a spy-series starring members of the Impossible Missions Force, or IMF. Ran for 7 seasons starting in 1966, then was revived in the ‘80s with Peter Graves returning. And, interestingly enough, I’ll have more to say on that later.

Third and finally, I should say my relationship with spy movies. Can’t say I’ve seen a lot of them, in truth, but I have seen the original Sean Connery (RIP) James Bond films, with the exception of Never Say Never Again. Haven’t seen any other Bond films, and any other spy movies that I’ve seen aren’t super notable, in truth. And yeah, I’ve seen the Austin Powers films, but that’s a conversation for a different month.

OK, enough background folderol, let’s get to that impossible mission, shall we? And SPOILERS, by the way.

Recap

OK, so we start with our intrepid spy group mid-mission, interrogating a guy using a fake dead-prostitute, a fake hotel, and a fake face, as seen by Tom Cruise taking off one of the iconic masks from the original show. And while this is clearly enhanced special effects, the original series used real latex rubber masks to accomplish the effect of taking the mask off. I dunno, that seems more charming to me than this:

But call that personal opinion, I guess. Anyway, we cut to Jon Voight...he’s the villain, isn’t he?

I mean, come on, he’s gotta be the villain, it’s Jon Voight in a ‘90s movie, where there are very few big names outside of himself and Cruise. But, I might be wrong about that, as Voight is playing Jim Phelps in this movie, and they wouldn’t turn Jim Phelps, of all characters, into a villain. He’s one of the main characters from the original series, played by Peter Graves. Dude even made it into the sequel series in the ‘80s as the head of IMF, a role which he appears to have taken up here as well. So, OK, I must be mistaken, he’s not gonna be the villain.

Right?

Anyway, after Jim Phelps chooses to accept the mission, the tape self-destructs, and our guys are going to Prague for find proof that some dude is stealing government secrets. We also find out that Phelps (Voight, remember) is married to Claire, played by Emmanuelle Beart, a woman 25 years younger than Voight. Well...sure? Anyway, we set up some nifty gadgets and planned disguises, and we make our way to the mission. And once there, the plan goes off without a hitch. I mean, mostly, anyway. No plan is foolproof after all! So, anyway, everybody’s dead.

Yeah. Wow. Everybody just got MERCED. Emilio Estevez gets crushed by an elevator, Kristin Scott Thomas gets stabbed alongside the suspect (somehow; I don’t understand how and why she doesn’t just walk away when she sees the dude clearly getting stabbed). Ingeborga Dapkunaite gets blown up, Emmanuelle Béart does to, but...off-screen. Hmm. And Voight gets shot...on camera...so that Hunt can see it happen...

It’s them, right? It’s Jim and Claire, the married couple, right? Like...they’re totally the villains of the movie, yeah? Because, like, we don’t see Claire get killed, and Phelps literally gets killed on camera. And the way the gun is pointed at him, CLEARLY looks like he’s shooting himself. It’s even the same suit that he’s wearing, you can see the sleeve! Come ON, man!

But, no, it can’t be that easy, right? This is a spy movie, after all, one of the best! Plus, I’m only, 20 minutes in? It CAN’T BE THAT EASY! And again, they wouldn’t do that to Jim Phelps, arguably the most well-known character from the original series! Right? RIGHT?

I’m just gonna say right now, I’m gonna be so upset if I’m right about this. Anyway...

Well, looks like Ethan’s being framed for the death of his team. Ah. So, it’s this story, huh? The mission was an attempt to root out a mole, and was apparently successful, according to Agent Kittedge (Henry Czerny at his most slimily dickish). Hunt is (very badly) interrogated by Kittredge, who literally only exacerbated the situation with his dumb, dumb interrogation tactics. Yeah, it’s gonna be one of those movies. Anyway, Ethan uses explosive chewing gum to escape, blows up a tank, and kills, just, SO many fish. Aquarists everywhere shivered as it happened, I’m sure.

Hunt goes...back to the safe house? Would...would the IMF not know where their agents are stationed? And you just went...back? Couple that with the fact that Hunt figures out how to contact the mysterious dealer “Max” within about 10 minutes, and IMF officials couldn’t figure that out for 2 YEARS at this point, and...these guys aren’t great spies, are they? So much slipping under their nose, geez. And if Jim actually is the mole, then WOW, these guys are incompetent. Still, outside of suspicion, there isn’t much proof of that yet...

Oh, look. Claire’s alive. Yeah...yeah, I’m calling my shot, it’s Jim and Claire. I don’t care if I’m wrong. In fact, I sincerely hope I am, for multiple reasons. But, yeah, I’m calling it officially now. And yeah, I’m not happy about it.

Anyway, Hunt, being not nearly suspicious enough of Claire’s survival, has indeed cracked the code that the entire IMF couldn’t crack in, again, 2 YEARS up to this point. Max has contacted him through the AIM server boards (Usenet, I know, but it’s the ‘90s; couldn’t resist). Max, played by Vanessa Redgrave in a pleasant surprise, makes a deal with Ethan to get the real list of agents, rather than the decoy that she’s been given. She accepts, as they narrowly escape capture by the IMF, and Ethan agrees to give her the full list for $10 million. And for the record, that set of demands is...VERY specific, on Ethan’s end. Thought about this before, huh, buddy-boy?

Anyway, Claire (who’s definitely guilty) and Ethan recruit two disavowed agents to help them. One is Franz Kreiger, a knife-loving sociopath played by the amazing Jean Reno. The other is Luther Stickell, a slickly-dressed computer hacker charmingly played by Ving Rhames. And I gotta say...I’m into it. Like, these two are both awesome characters, and I’m all for it. Rhames, while visually not looking like you’d expect an IT guy to look, pulls it off really well. He’s potentially my favorite character in the film, behind Max and Kreiger. Because, Kreiger...

So, Leon: The Professional is on my list for this month, and having seen Reno in this movie, I am EXCITED to see a movie in which he’s the star. I’ve only really seen him in this and Godzilla and heard him in Flushed Away, and he’s always my favorite character in those films. Not sure if it’s his characters, or his rakish charm, or his ABSOLUTELY AWESOME voice, but I’m a sucker for some Jean Reno, lemme tell you.

Allllllll right, time for some spy action! Looks like we’re going into Langley to get some information. Not an easy mission, that’s for sure. In fact, some might even say it’s a-

...Yeah, OK. Anyway, the mission proceeds in what may be, and I’m gonna be honest...one of the most heart-poundingly tense and enjoyable sequences I’ve seen in a spy movie. Cruise dangling by a wire over a supposedly break-in-proof room that sets off alarms at even the slightest trigger? Yeah...yeah, that shit was cool, I’m not gonna lie. Kreiger struggling to hold Cruise up, Luther coaching from the comms while awaiting the NOC list on his computers; it’s pretty awesome. No complaints there, 10/10.

OK, let’s break it up into two halves again, yeah? Part 2!

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [997]

Bull points a finger at Dorian, "This better be good. If it isn’t good I’m going to kick your ass straight back to Tevinter and this time I don’t think anyone is going to stop me.”

“Trust me, the last thing I want to do is crash your romantic night with Ellana," Dorian raises his hands in defense though he’s scowling fiercely the entire time, “But it’s important. Orders from higher up. The Qun is beyond such petty and savage measures as killing the messenger isn’t it?”

“You’re on the thinnest possible ice,” Bull replies, opening the door a little wider for Dorian to pass through. “You’re lucky that Ellana likes you.”

“I’d say the same to you,” Dorian replies, “But that seems like a disservice to the concept of luck and fortune. Where is she, anyway?”

“I told Krem and Trevelyan to distract her so I could finish setting up. Sucks that you’re the one seeing it and not her right now.”

Dorian looks around the entryway to the Iron Bull and Ellana’s home.

“I see nothing different.”

“Yeah, you don’t live here, how’d you know?” Bull retorts. “Anyway what’s so important that I’m getting dispatch orders on the night of my wedding anniversary?”

“To be fair, most of us who do know that you’re married only found out about it a few weeks ago. Most of the world things you’re both still on the market. More you than her, I suppose. Ellana doesn’t really give off the available vibe. She gives a straight to shared bank accounts and retirement plans vibe. No actual marriage required.”

“You think about my wife and shared retirement plans frequently, Pavus?”

“Would you attempt to be civil for five minutes so I can give you your dispatch orders? Fasta vass, I should have faked some kind of aphasia when they handed these to me.”

“While you’re at it explain that too. Why are you playing messenger and not one of our literal messengers?”

“They would have sent it via normal means, except everyone knows that tonight you’ll be ignoring all calls and messages, and if you didn’t get a physical copy of the dispatch orders you’d fake not knowing. And you wouldn’t accept any dispatch orders from any of our regular rank and file, it’d have to be from someone you’d be willing to talk to.”

“And looking at that criteria how the fuck did they wind up with you? The only reason I opened the door for you to start with was because you’re a stubborn bastard, and if Ellana came home to find you standing outside our door my entire evening goes in the garbage. If I thought I could get away with knocking you out and throwing you over the fence for someone else to deal with I would.”

Dorian makes a face of utter disgust. “I don’t know what she sees in you. It’s not even physical attraction — I could make my peace with that. But it’s not even that.”

“Likewise, Pavus. Get on with it.”

“I suspect everyone else they could have asked had some sort of preternatural sense to realize they needed to be as far away from the command post as possible in order to avoid some sort of imminent danger. Unlucky for me, I was just coming out of a briefing regarding research development in artificial tissue repair for one of the side teams. De Fer was there. Chances are she’d have been a good choice are well, but it’s de Fer. She handily dazzled everyone with a few words and was gone before anyone could even consider her as someone who would be able to give you your marching orders on this auspicious night without consequences.”

He’s right. If it was de Fer at the door Bull would already be packed and ready to go. He wouldn’t even be second guessing it.

Bull turns to look at the framed photograph hanging on the wall next to the stairs. It’s only a four by six, and the frame was cheap. But it’s the nicest photo from their wedding day and Bull had been excited for Ellana to walk in, notice all of their photo frames in the house rearranged out of order, and then go on a dogged room by room sweep to figure out why they frames have all switched places.

It was going to be a whole thing. He’d put in decoys and everything.

“I’m waiting for Ellana to get home before I accept those orders,” Bull says.

“I figured as much,” Dorian replies, waving the brown envelope at him. “Can I put these on a table and leave? Or do I have to stand here and make sure you actually do it?”

Bull glares.

“You don’t lie to Ellana, but you’ll lie to me in a heartbeat,” Dorian points out, “And as the person in charge of delivering these, it’s on me if you don’t follow through. Get mad at yourself for being so hyper competent that no one could figure out someone else to do this, if you must be mad at all. It’s business.”

“It’s bullshit.”

Bull checks his phone.

“She’s on her way. Fine. Stay. But go out back. I don’t want her walking in here on our anniversary and the first thing she sees is you.”

Dorian rolls his eyes, “I’ll go next door. It’s charming how none of the Chargers ever think to lock the door. Is it because they think they can handle anything? Or is it because they’re getting sloppy now that they’re in long term contracts?”

“Ask them, I’ve been telling them to get on that shit for ages,” Bull replies, practically sweeping Dorian back out of the house. “Go ahead, crash their places. That’ll teach them a lesson. If they don’t lock their doors they get annoying Tevinter researchers poking around their things.”

“As if one of the wasn’t also Tevene.”

“He’s annoying but he’s not you.”

Dorian swears under his breath, “Absolutely insufferable. The only redeeming feature you have is that Ellana — baffling enough — adores you.”

“Right back at you,” Bull says, immediately closing and locking the door the second Dorian clears the doorframe.

He turns around and looks at the now empty house, mind regretfully packing away all of the plans he’d had. He walks up the first couple stairs so he’s eye level with the small photograph again.

“Well,” Bull gently touches the edges of the frame, “I guess I’ll tell Mahanon to tape her reaction for me or something. Fuck.”

[singledarkshade]

Deadly Puzzle

Part Four (Part One,  Part Two  and Part Three can be found here) Eve watched Gideon wander into the Psych offices and back to her desk. She headed to the fridge and grabbed some cans of soda before heading back to where her sister was sitting.

“This isn’t like you,” Eve said offering her one of the sodas, “You never give up. I still have the earplugs I bought when you wanted to go to Disneyland and spent several months singing ‘It’s A Small World After All’ at me.”

“What?” Gideon looked at her confused before explaining, “I’m not giving up. The only chance we have to win the game at this point is to change the rules.”

Eve sighed in relief as Gideon took one of the cans and opening it.

“I took a risk at the hotel,” Gideon continued, taking a drink, “Because I knew he wouldn't kill her. I knew he wouldn't kill her because he loves the game too much, but that bought me time. It bought me time to work on my own...well with you.”

Nodding Eve said, “Okay? What’s your plan?”

“We're going to drop off his radar,” Gideon told her, “We're still going to find Vanessa. We're going to do it on our own. I would prefer Rip to be with me, but since Jonas and Miranda needs him right now, you’ll do.”

Shaking her head at her sister’s bluntness, Eve said, “All right, where do we start?”

Gideon took a deep breath, “We go back to the beginning. Back to the beginning, and we trace the steps of Mr. Yang.”

“So,” Eve said, “Where to first?”

“The café,” Gideon stated, “There’s something bothering me about that whole thing.”

Gideon walked into the café, nodding to Ethan who had taken over from Holly. She was well known in the café, so none of the staff bothered as she stood recreating that morning in her head.

“Focus,” Eve said, “Close your eyes and see everything from this morning.”

In her mind, Gideon walked through her steps from that morning. The conversation with Holly, sitting looking over the bay which gave her the ability to see the staff car park. Walking outside so she could see the carpark again, Gideon frowned in thought. She knew this café, she knew the staff patterns.

“Ethan,” she called, heading over to him, “There was a pink mini in the car park this morning. Do you know whose car that was?”

He mused for a moment before pulling up some information on the tablet he had, “That’s Vanessa’s.”

Gideon turned to her sister, “He took Vanessa in her own car. We find that, we find her.”

“I’m calling, Wells,” Eve said pulling out her phone and putting it on speaker, “Detective, the waitress drives a pink mini. If you find the car, then you’ll find her.”

“We already have,” Harrison replied, “You need to get here.”

Gideon and Eve shared a confused look before Gideon demanded, “Where?”

 Rip arrived at the motel, the same time as Gideon and Eve.

“Jonas?” Gideon asked instantly.

Rip nodded, “He’s fine and fast asleep in his bed.”

“Come on, you two,” Eve told them, “From Wells’ voice this is urgent.”

They headed inside and were met by Ray who took them to the room that was already cordoned off.

“Kendra,” Rip called when they reached the open door, “What happened?”

Kendra walked over and took a quick breath, “We found the waitress. She’s alive and has been taken to the hospital.”

Eve frowned, “Then why are we here?”

Grimacing Kendra motioned them inside, “He left us another message which you all need to see.”

Leading them into the bathroom where Wells was waiting for them, Gideon frowned at how concerned he looked.

“What is his message?” she asked.

Taking a slow breath, Wells stepped to one side letting them see the message left on the mirror.

“Gideon no longer wants to play,” Rip read, “Stakes too low to make you stay?” he frowned as his eyeline slid down to the random items pasted below the words. His frown deepened then realisation and horror covered his face.

“Rip?” Gideon demanded worriedly, “What is it?”

He turned to her, his face pale, “He has my mother.”

“What?” Gideon stared at everything before she saw keyring Rip had bought Mary for the first birthday that he spent with her. It was one of Mary’s most treasured possessions, “Oh God no.”

Gideon felt sick to her stomach. Mary had been like a mother to Gideon from the day they’d met as well as a confidant and friend to Eve. They were a family.

“Hunter, Rider,” Wells called from the other room, “Get in here.”

Taking his hand in hers, Gideon pulled Rip into the other room, and Wells motioned them over to the back wall.

“You should be moving,” Rip read, his voice shaking, “As most people do, but instead you sit and enjoy the view.”

Gideon squeezed his hand before finishing, “P.S. Mommy says, 'Hi' and 'Bye'. Just in case.”

Eve rested her hand on Gideon’s shoulder and Rip’s arm before asking, “Why did he spell view as VU?”

“Maybe that’s the hint?” Kendra suggested.

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Or maybe he ran out of lipstick.”

Gideon stepped into the centre of the room, taking slow deep breaths as she closed her eyes and tried to think over everything. She needed to focus on where Mary could be for Rip. He always looked after her, always made sure she was safe and was the one person in Gideon’s world that she knew would do anything for her.

She had to do this for him. Mary Xavier had come into Rip’s life when he believed no one could ever care about him, taking in a boy who had lost his real mother so young he barely remembered her and had been abandoned by his father who should have protected him, giving him a loving home where he thrived into the amazing man he was now.

“VU,” Gideon breathed, her mind going through every possibility, all the other clues Yang had left them, “V…U…” she stopped and turned to them, “I know where he’s taken her.”

                                 *********************************************

 Gideon jumped out Rip’s car the moment he stopped and ran towards the entrance of the Drive-In, with Eve, Cisco, Wells, Kendra and Rip following on. Not far behind them were more officers ready to search the place for Mary.

“All right,” Wells said, “We know he used the waitress's car, so there's a good chance he’s taken Ms Xavier’s too.”

Gideon nodded, “It’s very possible.”

“What does she drive?” Kendra asked.

Rip frowned, “It’s a white sedan. She leaves it in storage when she’s not here.”

“Fan out,” Wells ordered everyone including the officers, “And find it but do not approach without us.”

Gideon scanned the area, hating that she was so short and couldn’t see everything she needed to. Without hesitation, she climbed onto a wall before stepping onto the nearest car bonnet. She jumped from car to car, ignoring the yells from the people inside them and finally spotted the car she was looking for. Running over Gideon slowed as she reached the car, studying it to see if there were any booby traps, she could see Mary sitting in the front seat.

There was a red light on the back of the seat and Gideon traced it back to the projection room. Seeing Wells and Kendra she motioned them towards it before crouching beneath the path of the light.

Gideon moved to the door, “Mary.” She could see the tape across Mary’s mouth and slowly reached out to remove it, “Hi.”

“It’s a decoy,” Mary whispered, her eyes drifting down to the pot of popcorn sitting on the other seat. A small red blinking light was just visible beneath the kernels.

“I see that, “Gideon turned and saw Rip coming towards them, “Get down,” she ordered him.

Following her orders, Rip looked up at her, “Gideon?”

“She’s strapped in, Rip and there appears to be a bomb,” Gideon told him, “Just stay there.”

Irritation filled his face, but Rip knew Gideon was right.

“Mary,” Gideon breathed, “Where is he?”

Mary’s eyes darted to the side, Gideon followed it to the truck parked a few spaces across and saw a woman in there who waved cheerily at Gideon.

Slowly she walked towards Yang, hearing Rip assuring Mary he was there, and they’d get her out of this.

 Reaching the truck, Gideon saw Yang was not only a woman but also close in ages to her and Rip. Her long dark hair sat just above her shoulders, she had pale skin and a slight smile on her lips.

“Admit it,” she drawled, “I’m not what you expected, am I? It's the bone structure.”

Gideon glared at her, “I won. I beat you. That was the deal so let Mary go.”

“You are just amazing,” Yang praised her, “Just my most, most admirable foe. But then, see, I knew you would be. That's why I chose you.”

“Because I'm your yin?” Gideon asked annoyed, “Well, that's sweet. Thank you for that but you're completely surrounded and there's no way out of this for you.”

In the background sirens sounded coming closer.

“Do you know what I love about this movie, Gideon,” Yang asked with a slight smile, “It has a great resolution. Okay, so call me old-fashioned, but really is there anything more satisfying than a solid ending?” she shrugged, “You call me a killer, but the truth is I complete things,”

Gideon let out a snort of disdain.

Ignoring Gideon’s scorn, Yang continued, “And that is what people really want, to feel complete. And now our story, that we created so beautifully together, is going to end.”

Worry filled Gideon, “How?”

Yang smirked, “Do you want to know what it is? Or do you want to be surprised?”

Gideon shook her head, “Let me guess. You want to die, right? Suicide by cop. Wow, you’re a cliché.”

“I could have killed your surrogate mom hours ago, Gideon. Your best friend’s mom,” Yang gave a dreamy smile as she showed Gideon the small black box in her hand with a trigger and blinking light matching the one sitting beside Mary, “This switch has such a light touch, like pinching a baby's cheek. And then, boom!!!!!”

Gideon jumped.

“She blows up. How much fun would that be to see?” Yang cried excitedly, “Oh, it gives me shivers, I want to do that so badly,” she sighed, “But then you wouldn't like me, Gideon and I want you to like me.”

“If you want me to like you,” Gideon demanded, “Then why did you hurt people I care about?”

Yang shook her head again, “You mean the little boy? Oh, that was set up to distract your partner, never to hurt any of the kids and they were fine. I needed to see how you did without tall and broody by your side.”

Ice trickled along Gideon’s spine, “Why?”

“To see if you were as good without him as you are with him,” Yang smiled, “And you exceeded my expectations. You are amazing Gideon and I need you to like me, because we're going to be working together again.”

Gideon glared at her, “Not a chance because you’re going to rot in a cell with four padded walls. The end.”

“No,” Yang smiled even more, “The end of the beginning. I'm going to write a book. It’s going to be our story, Gideon and it's going to be epic, a bestseller. And guess what? I want you to write the forward.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Gideon snapped.

“Oh well,” Yang shrugged, offering Gideon the trigger, “Just think about it when you’re tucked up with your family after this.”

Gideon slowly took the small black box and held it out the window calling, “Clear.”

The world exploded into activity as Wells gently took the trigger from Gideon and deactivated it, allowing Rip to release Mary while Kendra arrested Yang.

“Gideon,” she called, “You know when you talk about me, call me by my other chosen name.”

“Which is?” Gideon asked relieved when Eve moved to her side.

Yang smiled, “Nora. Not as unusual as yours but I like it.”

As Yang/Nora was marched away Gideon leaned into her sister’s embrace watching Rip hug Mary tightly before leading her to the paramedics so they could check her out.

It was over.

[pop-culturereference]

Never Touch Him Again

Summary: Barbara finds out what Tarantula did to Dick. She takes justice into her own hands.

I originally wrote this for Dickbabs week but didn’t quite finish it. Also, not really shippy at all. The prompt was “touch.”

Word Count: like 3,000 ish

Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Catalina Flores

Pairings: Gen

“Don’t…touch me…”

Babs slammed the pause button and shoved herself away from her desk. Her skin flashed hot and cold until she was shaking and she felt like she was going to throw up. She lashed out and hit her books off the desk. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it was futile. It was times like these she desperately wished her legs worked; she needed to get up, to pace, to kick something until it was broken beyond repair and her foot was bleeding.

Instead, she yanked her hair up and wheeled over to the punching bag in the corner, where she picked up her escrima sticks and started mercilessly beating the shit out of it. If the punching bag were a person, it would have been dead, the muscles and skin pounded to bloody oatmeal sticking to splintered bones. When the back of her shirt was soaked with sweat, she threw the escrima down in a corner and reluctantly forced herself back to the video. She owed it to Dick to find out the truth.

She’d already found the truth that Bruce wanted: Dick hadn’t killed Blockbuster. He’d been there, and he’d watched it happen, but he hadn’t been the one to kill him. 

She hadn’t been surprised when Bruce came to her. “I need your help; I think Dick may have killed someone,” he’d said. Babs had been horrified, but not surprised. Dick had been very, very… off…  for a while. As soon as Bruce had brought it up to her, she knew that whatever she found would explain Dick’s behavior.

And it was explaining more than she’d expected. Right now, she only needed to watch far enough in the tape to see if Tarantula listened to Dick and left him alone, or if she didn’t and raped him. Babs considered Dick’s recent self-destructive spiral, and her heart sank. She was pretty sure she already knew. After steeling herself with a few deep breaths, Babs watched the next few seconds of the video, then turned it off. Her heart sank down to her stomach and sat there stewing, making her nauseous. Tears burned her eyes and left hot tracks down her cheeks. How selfish, she chided herself. Dick is the one who has the right to cry, not you.

Babs started putting herself back together, piece by piece. She did it, as she always had, with a plan of action. Her eyes still burned as her mind whirred. She had everything on Tarantula, and nothing on Catalina Flores

She had a recording of Tarantula shooting a man in the head. The man was universally hated. Tarantula was wearing a mask.

She also had security footage of Tarantula attacking and trying to kill her while she was at dinner with Dick. Again, she was wearing a mask.

She had evidence of Tarantula bribing police officers. No one cared—not in Gotham, and certainly not in Blüdhaven. 

She had footage of Tarantula raping Dick. Again, she was wearing a mask. If she were ever put on trial, Nightwing couldn’t very well show up to testify. Plus, she had connections. It wasn’t going to work.

Clearly, Babs would have to take things into her own hands.

She didn’t tell Dick what she knew. She didn’t tell Bruce, either. She didn’t tell Helena and Dinah. She could do this herself. She’d beaten Tarantula once before, and this time, Oracle would be the one catching Tarantula unprepared, and on her turf.

The plan was to do this the Bat Way: Lure Tarantula to Gotham, get her to commit a crime here, and let Commissioner Gordon handle the rest.

Babs knew just the crime: attempted murder. Of the commissioner’s daughter, no less. Babs allowed herself a grim smile. She had her work cut out for her.

—————————————————

The next time she went to see Dick, she wasn’t sure how to act. She worried that she was overcompensating by goofing off because she didn’t want to seem too serious, and she also worried about overcompensating with coldness or rudeness to avoid pitying him. She honestly wasn’t sure what he was up to recently; their conversations were concise and infrequent. She figured she had the best chance of cornering him into talking in the Batcave. She asked Bruce when Dick would be there and then used a software security update as an excuse to be there when he arrived.

“Nightwing!” She called, grinning nervously.  “Long time, no see! Get your butt down here!”

It was no longer “get your cute butt down here,” for which she allowed herself a gust of sadness.

He didn’t swing over using the bars around the cave. Instead, he click-clacked down the stairs and over the walkway to her, his leg brace altering his gait just enough that Babs probably couldn’t recognize him any longer by his walk alone.

He gave her a bow with a hand-twirl. “At your service, oh great Oracle.” 

Now that,  at least, was normal. While the theatrics didn’t have as much heart as usual, they hadn’t disappeared. 

Babs had thought over her next words and planned them out to the letter. “I’ll get straight to the point. I miss you, Dick.” He was wearing the Nightwing mask, so she studied the rest of his face for a reaction. All he did was tighten his lips to not give anything away. This close, she could also see that he looked deflated, like one day he’d just decided to shrink half a size, but only his skin had gotten the memo; It was stretched taut, making him look hollow and angular.

He waited for her to continue.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact as much. That’s on me. And…I miss my best friend.” She tilted a sad smile at him. “Can I take you out to dinner this week?”

He just stood there blankly, like she’d caught him off guard and now he didn’t know which expression to paste on next. Babs ached at how worn down he looked, and subtle anger squeezed her heart. Dick didn’t deserve this. She sighed. “That’s okay if you don’t-“

“No, no, that’d be great. I… miss you too, Babs.” He still looked diluted, like not all of him was there, but now he was smiling. 

“Great, I know this really good place a few blocks from my place. Big yellow M on the front, you might have seen it before. Called McDonald’s.”

It was a pretty low quality joke, but Dick let out a huff of laughter anyway. 

“I’m kidding,” she said. “This weekend?”

Everything she’d said was genuine, so she refused to acknowledge any guilt she felt over her ulterior motive.

————————————

Tarantula’s night of crime had taken some careful planning.

First, she’d had to stick surveillance on her to get some manipulation material.

Then, she’d had to find a place to rent with a good insurance policy. She’d also faked documentation for the past few months, just to be safe.

Then, she’d gathered evidence of Tarantula’s crimes in Blüdhaven and planted a file on her in the GCPD’s system.

After finishing the paper setup, she’d enlisted Batgirl as her eyes, ears, and knight in shining armor. Cass had installed the camera system in Babs’s new decoy apartment. Cass had also been the one to deliver the blackmail letters.

Now, all she had to do was go to dinner with Dick then come home to the new apartment and wait for Flores to come try to kill her.

Dick picked her up. He would also give her a ride back. It wouldn’t do for Flores to try to kill her before she got back to her heavily-monitored-and-filmed apartment. Babs had planned everything out to the last letter so she could focus on dinner with Dick, but she still needed a moment to steer her head out of Oracle mode and into friendship mode. While Dick helped her into the car, she methodically threw out any thought of her impending attempted murder.

Dick wasn’t very talkative so far; he didn’t even question her new address, but Babs explained anyway. If her explanation was a little embarrassing, hopefully it would only serve to show Dick her candor and openness with him.

“I’m only here for a week or so. I punched a whole in the wall with my escrima last week, and when they came to fix it, they found a rat infestation. I can’t be there while they’re fumigating.”

Dick maneuvered the car into the left lane, then shot her a glance, clearly disgusted. “Rats? That’s horrible!” He exaggerated a shudder. Babs had another explanation planned for when he asked why she wasn’t staying with her dad or even Bruce, but he didn’t seem to question it. Her heart squeezed; Dick was still dazed and not quite right. She’d already planned to be the one carrying the conversation, though, dinner would be fine.

“Believe me, I know that better than you do at this point. First hand experience.”

“Seriously, that is so disgusting.”

It was Dick, so she couldn’t help but mess with him at least a little. “Yeah,” she said. “They came scurrying out of the wall all together. They were this big,” she said, leaning to show him her hands measuring about the distance of her forearm. “Their noses left little greasy prints on my wallpaper. I thought I could handle it, until one night I reached to untangle the computer chords and I grabbed one of their tails.” She added an authentic shudder. 

Dick gaped and made a gagging sound. Well, not the best expression, but at least he was a little more animated. “You’re kidding! Babs, yuck! Please tell me you’re joking!”

“Kidding!” she said, laughing. “Don’t worry, Dick! I hightailed it out of there the moment I heard the word ‘rat’. I’m not going within a mile of there until every last one is exterminated.”

“Thank goodness. You had me seriously worried for your health and sanity for a bit there.”

“Aw, you do care!” she crooned. It was so easy for Babs to slip back into their old rapport, but the conversation died there. She had to remember that they’d broken up and also that Dick was very traumatized and probably wouldn’t be his old self for a while. She felt a sudden, sweeping melancholy as she realized that things might never go back to the way they were. It wasn’t fair to feel upset right now, she knew that. So instead, she pursed her lips grimly and reminded herself that at least Tarantula would be arrested later that night.

They made a nice little scene walking into the restaurant, Babs in her wheelchair and Dick in his click-clacking leg brace. No less than 4 employees and 3 non-employees offered to help them. Dick just glared, expression blank and flat, while Babs politely reassured them that they could manage. She did not roll her eyes even once.

It was a nice restaurant. The food was good, and the service was good. The conversation was not that good, but Babs hadn’t really been expecting otherwise. Nostalgia stung her the whole night, like lemon juice on a forgotten paper cut. 

She tried to diffuse the awkwardness between them with casual insults, a Barbara Gordon specialty. Dick reacted slowly and gave his chuckles and smiles a little late, but when they left and were once again seated in his parked car, he sighed and apologized.

“I’m sorry Babs, I’ll drop you off. Thanks for dinner.”

Babs locked eyes with him fiercely and fought not to show her anger at Flores. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you ever apologize. I can tell you’re going through some stuff right now. It’s not your fault, okay? Dick? Look at me. It is not your fault. I’m here as your friend, don’t think you owe me anything. I care about you. I-” don’t back down, Babs— “I love you. I’m not going to push you into telling me anything, but just know that I’m here for you, okay?”

Dick wasn’t looking at her, but the passing headlights of the highway reflected bright in his teary eyes. He cleared his throat. “Thanks. I… appreciate that more than you know.” He blinked hard, and drove her back to the makeshift apartment. By the time they got there, he was able to give her a normal, dry-eyed goodbye, and offer his help for her rat situation. Babs squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile before waving a goodbye. 

The next part made her feel like an idiot, but it was necessary. As soon as Dick was out of earshot, she scooted closer to a potted plant that she knew was bugged and murmured sweet nothings in a low voice. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that bubbled up, then made some lip smacking sounds and moaned a little. It wasn’t a very high quality bug, so it wouldn’t be strange that it only recorded her voice because she was supposedly closer. Breathlessly, she said, “you naughty boy, you know I have to work on my thesis tonight. Tomorrow.” She followed up with one more smack for good measure, then left her apartment and closed the door.

The moment the bug was out of earshot, she had Cass on the comms.

“Bait taken?” Babs asked her.

“Yes.” Babs was having a hard time not giggling. That was probably the stupidest, most embarrassing thing she’d ever done.

“Estimated time frame?”

“One hour.” The gravity of the situation settled on her, and there were no more giggles. 

“Thank you. Oracle out.”

Babs let herself back in, and, once again, she wanted to pace. Just as well that she couldn’t, she didn’t want to tip Tarantula off that she was expecting her. Instead, she changed into pajamas and erased the last 10 minutes of footage from her security cameras.

The dinner with Dick had gone okay from an interpersonal perspective, and from a make-flores-want-to-kill-me perspective, it had gone even better. It was pretty obvious from the dinner where Tarantula attacked her that she was jealous of Babs’s relationship with Dick. It should be just the little extra nudge that would get Flores over here to deal with her personally. The day before, Babs had delivered blackmail letters via Batgirl. Dearest Catalina, she’d written. It’s obvious that you’ve got half of Blüdhaven in your pocket, but I know for fact that the other half is in the pocket of Roland Desmond’s only surviving relative. She’d be very interested to know about this. Here, she’d taped a disk with footage of her shooting Blockbuster in the head. If you want my copy destroyed, get in touch. Much love, Barbara Gordon.

This was not Oracle style. When Oracle wanted to blackmail someone, they had no way to trace her, and she usually only did it to get criminals to up their paranoia and sabotage themselves. This time, Babs wanted Flores to track her down. She wanted to look like an easy target. Really, the only thing that "Dearest Catalina” could do now was kill her. It would be too much of a risk for a commissioner’s daughter to have that knowledge, even if the disk were destroyed. Sure, Flores would feel bad about it, but she’d know it was necessary. But, that wasn’t enough for Babs, so she made Flores angry. Batgirl had tailed Flores from Bludhaven yesterday and watched her plant a bug in Babs’s newly-placed potted plant, and the day before, Babs stood right next to it and gushed about her date with Dick. Flores would show no remorse, no hesitation. 100% premeditated murder. Batgirl was ahead of Flores now, and would be waiting for Babs’s signal to jump in and help her out. 

Now, all she had to do was wait. 

.

.

.

15 minutes, and she decided that waiting was the worst part.

.

15 more, and she was so glad she didn’t actually have a rat problem.

.

She hoped Dick was doing okay.

.

Fifteen more minutes, and Cass buzzed in to tell her Tarantula came armed with a knife and zipties but no gun. Good. Tarantula was going to get personal, maybe even tie her up and blabber even more condemning evidence. She got ready and pretended to be asleep. Ten minutes later, her window creaked open. She sighed softly and shifted in under her covers, keeping her eyes closed even though her heart was pounding. She struggled feebly when Tarantula grabbed her wrists and tied them together, feigning disorientation. She held off until she was already tied to struggle with her full strength.

“What do you want! Who are-” Babs was cut off with a slap to the face. Ouch. She tried to wipe blood off her face with her shoulder, but only succeeded in smearing it. It dried there, making her skin feel dry and crackly.

Flores sighed. “You know, I have nothing against you! I would have just let you be!”

“Is this about Dick?” 

“We could have made this quick and easy, but you just had to keep causing problems!”

“Oh, good. So this is just boy drama. Not about you shooting Blockbuster. I thought you were going to kill me.”

“Oh, I’m going to kill you, alright,” Tarantula snarled. 

Babs sneered. “I’d like to see you try.”

Tarantula punched her in the gut. She kicked, hard. One landed in her gut again, but most on her lower torso and upper legs. Hah. All of her spinal nerves down her legs were non-functional. Silver lining.

Babs squirmed but didn’t fight back. She needed to lull Tarantula into thinking she posed no threat.

Finally, Tarantula pulled out the knife. “I hate you. I thought I didn’t want to do this, but for you, I really don’t mind.”

Babs held still until Tarantula grabbed her by the hair to bare her throat. By this point, she was done pretending. She sliced through the zip tie and swung her fist directly into Tarantula’s nose. She grabbed Tarantula’s broken nose in her right hand and twisted, getting a scream. As her hands went to her face, Babs grabbed them and twisted again, breaking wrists and fingers. She kept one of Tarantula’s hands, squeezing it so the bones crunched slightly. She squeezed tighter, feeling Tarantula’s metacarpal bones grinding together, then screamed directly into her ear, rupturing her eardrum and signaling Batgirl. 

Babs leaned to Tarantula’s other ear and hissed, “This? This was nothing. Never. Touch him. Again.”

[kz-i-co]

Start Over

»Request: "A bully💕 but with a sweet intention inside💕."

»Pairing: June/ Reader

»Genre: fluff

»Words: 2.6k

»A/N: sorry if this sucks, I couldn't really think of anything lol :(

»m.list ╫ ikon masterlist

-

"Why are we doing this?" Sehyoon asked June as they booby trapped your office.

"Because it's funny." He said with a devious expression. "She'll be fine."

"I don't know. She's very organized. She'll probably be pissed."

"How long has she been working here?" June asked.

"2 years? Why?"

"To make sure they won't fire her."

"Okay just about done. There." He put the last of the mess. "It's perfect."

"She's going to know it was you." Sehyoon said rolling his eyes.

"How do you know that? She works in a school. Best decoy ever."

"I don't think elementary school kids are capable." He laughed.

"I guess I can leave her this then." He taped a small note to the door.

"Let's go before we get caught." Sehyoon spoke breaking his concentration.

They snuck out of the office and through the window and successfully past the night guard. They done it again. Or more or less June. Trying to make your life more difficult. That's how it was since you met him years ago. Your stupid brother knew how to pick them.

-

"Good morning Yeji." You smiled at the little girl. "Your hairs pretty."

"Thank you my mommy did it." She yawned as you smiled at her mother.

You continued down the hall and unlocked the door to the nurses office. You saw a bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter with a balloon attached to it.

Happy Birthday (Y/N), I love you. I hope your schedule is clear tonight because I already have plans for a big fancy dinner. See ya later -Sehyoon

You smiled reading your brothers card. He always celebrated your birthday like it was the most important holiday.

"When did he do this?" You asked yourself. You were in this office all day for the full 8 hours of school. There was no way he could of snuck in without you noticing. You shook your head and smiled as you smelled the beautiful flowers. You walked over to your office, about to unlock the door until you saw a small note attached to the door.

Hey Mullet, Happy Birthday. How old are you again? Just wanted to say I went all out for your birthday this year and I hope it's the best one yet. Can't wait to see you later.

You felt anger just reading the letter. You couldn't stand your brothers friend. Once upon a time you had a crush on him followed them everywhere but once you reached middle school, it went all downhill.

He was the biggest jerk you have ever met. All he did was make fun of you for every little thing. He was trying to ruin your life.

The worst memory of all was your seventh grade school pictures. You wanted to change your look and begged your mother for a haircut right before picture day. For obvious reasons of not being a professional hair dresser, she gave you the worst Brady bunch looking mullet haircut ever. You cried for weeks from how horrendous your pictures came out and better yet, gotten them framed. It was bad enough you had to tie your hair up everyday until it grew out but ever since June saw those pictures, he has called you mullet. You even wondered if he remembered your real name.

By this point you just wanted him to leave you alone for good.

You crumbled up the note before stepping into your office. You grew confused as you accidentally kicked over something causing you to turn on the light quickly. Your eyes grew petrified followed by with intense anger of the mess that was right before you.

Your office had post it notes all over the place and silly string everywhere. Like walking into a nest of spiderwebs. It was followed by stupid cups of water all over the room, making it hard to even step inside. You growled from how angry you were trying to hold back every curse word that came to mind.

You tried to calm down, just from how shaky you were.

>>To June: [8:36 A.M] Can't wait to see you tonight. I have so much I want to say to you. ;))

You tried to keep it simple and not give it away how pissed you were. You wanted him out of your life and for good.

You decided to close your office since you couldn't handle taking care of it at the moment. Better yet, you wanted him to clean it up. Once and for all.

....

You dressed up nicely and headed to the address your brother sent you, but already knew it was Rene's; your favorite restaurant. Sehyoon knew you well and always wanted to make your special day something to remember.

You were standing outside the restaurant calling your brother. "Hey."

"Heyyy." Sehyoon answered.

"You better not be pulling some kind of surprise or I'll will kill you."

"No worries."

You said opening the door and stepping inside. "I mean it Sehyoon. I'm not in the mood for-"

"SURPRISE!!!!"

You knew it was coming but you happened to jump anyway. "I said no." Your brother came up and hugged you. "You're not allowed to be grumpy on your birthday."

"Well I got a surprised this morning that I'm not happy with."

"Oh about that....I'm so sorry." He looked at you timely as he confessed. "It was June's idea."

"You helped him?!?" You raised your voice.

"Only with the post it notes, he did the rest."

You looked around and you were surprised you didn't see him. "You didn't invite him?"

"Well-"

"Sehyoon."

"It's not like that. He's just trying to make you laugh."

"No, he's a bully. Always has been."

"He likes you though." You looked at him confused. "He's always asking how you are or if you're busy."

"Yeah right."

"No seriously. He just likes to pull pranks on everyone. It's just how he is." You rolled your eyes at his answer. "I know he's a jerk. I'm sorry, I'll tell him to cool it."

"Been there done that. I'll tell him." You walked past him and sat down at the table greeting other family and friends.

....

You enjoyed your birthday party for the most part, laughed enjoyed your gifts and the cake was your absolute favorite. Your anger was actually worn off, until the door open revealing a tardy June, who you prayed wasn't coming.

"Hey birthday girl." He smiled and handed you a bag. You were surprised he even went forward getting you a gift at all. You opened the card and it was actually very pretty and well put together that you swore it wasn't even his. But the handwriting in the card gave it away.

Dear (Y/N), Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it well and get everything you want. I hope your day is as beautiful as your smile. XOXO -June

You couldn't believe how sweet the card was. He had nothing mean or obnoxious written and you couldn't help but smile in the process. Maybe your brother was write.

You took out the tissue paper and began to dig into your gift. You felt like it was more then one thing and decided to go with the biggest item. You pulled out a picture frame and turned it around revealing your traumatizing seventh year school picture. You threw it back in the bag and looked at June with hatred.

"That's not it." He laughed.

"I can't believe you-" You began to shout but notice you were causing attention. "Why are you such a jerk." You lowered your voice as you felt your eyes water. You got up and grabbed your things making your way out of the building.

Sehyoon was looking at all the gifts in the bag seeing the picture frame, a mug, and even a T-shirt, with all your mullet nightmare. "How could you?" He looked at his friend.

"Come on it was a joke."

"I better go check on her." Sehyoon started but June stopped him.

"No I will." Sehyoon gave him a warning look. "No I need to apologize." He said with sincerity.

You threw your stuff in your car, not even wanting to go back in there for the rest of your gifts. You just wanted to go, as far away as this place.

"(Y/N) Wait." You saw June running towards you.

"Get the fuck away from me." You said opening your car door.

"Wait I'm sorry. It was just a joke."

"Your face is a joke." You shut the door behind you and he knocked on your window.

"Please." You heard his muffled voice from outside the window. You started your car and opened the window. "I'm really sorry. I didn't know that photo hurt you so bad."

"Are you kidding me. That was the worst moment of my life." You spat.

"I'm sorry. I'll get you something else."

"Don't bother. It's not just the photo. It's the pranks, you making fun of me, calling me mullet. I just want it all to end......My office? Really? I want you to clean it up and that's the last time I ever want to see you." You closed your window and took off.

-

The next day was pretty quiet. You told your brother the greatest birthday gift was to have some peace and quiet for the weekend. You were still a mess over your whole birthday. June just had to ruin your day. You were sulking on your couch as you tried to watch some dumb comedy to cheer you up.

You heard a knock on your door and you groaned just getting up to retrieve the mysterious headache. You opened the door and sighed as you saw June once again trying to make amends.

"I'm really sorry."

"You said that." You said not changing your emotion.

"Come on, I bought your favorite meal." He said holding up a container of different containers.

"What don't you get? I don't want you here." You said.

"Please. Aren't you hungry." You didn't change your mind.

"At least take the food and I'll leave." He insisted not giving you a choice. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." He said before leaving your apartment.

-

When you got to work Monday, everything was normal. You got your couple hellos from students and teachers as you made your way to the nurses office.

You sighed unlocking your door, ready to see the mess you were about to walk into. You yelled at June to clean so you weren't expecting when that could happen, if it would at all.

You opened the door slowly ready to feel the silly string in the air but your door swung opened fine like nothing was wrong and grew confused. You quickly turned on the light and saw that everything was back to normal or even better then you had it before.

When did he even do this?

You noticed another bag on your desk with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Sehyoon always got you flowers every year but he never managed to figure out your favorite. You took the note from the clip and began to read the note.

Dear (Y/N) I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for ruining your birthday. I know I'm a jerk and I wish I can take it back. You probably wouldn't believe me but I really don't try to hurt you, I guess it's just easier then to show my true feelings. I promise it won't ever happen again and hopefully some day you will forgive me. -June P.s. I know you hated the gift I gave you but sometimes the best things are worth hiding.

"What does that even mean?" You asked yourself putting the card down. You dug through the bag and saw the mullet photo once again and you never realized that it wasn't inside the frame but simply taped on the outside.

"Such a jerk." You tore off the horrible photo and crumbled it up but you glanced at the real photo underneath with surprise as you felt the tears flood your eyes. The photo was with you and your dad sitting on his fire truck back when you were only 8 years old. You haven't seen this photo in years since the station was closed down. It was your last photo ever taken with him before he was gone and you thought you would never seen it again.

You felt your hand shake just from the memory. Your dad took you to work that morning and showed you all the cool equipment and how it worked.

You lost him a few weeks later to an emergency in the middle of the night.

"How did he even get this?" You asked yourself.

-

You couldn't believe you were outside his apartment about to face him. On one hand you were fine of never seeing his face again but then you couldn't stop thinking of what he meant about having feelings for you.

As you were about to knock on the door, it came flying open with him ready to leave. "I'm leaving now." His face went blank as he noticed you.

"Actually, go on without me. Something just came up." He hung up. "Hey (Y/N)."

"Hey. I came to talk to you, but if you're busy-"

"No, it's not that important." He said opening the door once again. "Come in."

You stepped inside taking a deep breath, you just wanted to get it over with. "Look I'm just gonna come right out and say it." You took another deep breath. "Thank you, for the picture. I'm sure it wasn't easy to get and I really appreciate you doing that..."

He knew it was coming from the look of disappointment. "But....I can't just forgive you for all the years of torment and teasing. It's gonna take some time-"

"(Y/N) I'm really sorry. I wish I can take it all back." Then he looked up at you getting a sudden idea. "Actually, can we just start over?"

"What?" You looked at him confused.

He came closer and held out his hand like he was introducing himself. "My name is June and I'm your brothers best friend who has had a crush on you since we were 15."

You looked at him with confusion yet oblivious. "Are you making that up?"

"No (Y/N), it's true. I really had a crush on you and I was too scared for you to know so I just started acting like a jerk and it was wrong and stupid and I wish I could take everything back. In fact maybe if I told you sooner, we could of been something."

"June, look-"

He held out his hand once again since you haven't shaken it yet. "We really doing this?"

He nodded and you took his hand and he pulled you forward, colliding with his chest. He was staring into your eyes causing you to blush. "I know you can't forgive me but maybe you can at least tolerate me."

"I don't know."

"Well at least so I can do this-" he leaned down bringing his lips towards yours. He was really trying which you couldn't help but respect but you just couldn't get over it that easy.

You responded for the kiss a little longer until you pulled away. "I probably should go."

"(Y/N), can we maybe go out to dinner some time or something. I really do want to make it up to you." He had sadness in his eyes.

"Okay." You smiled. He was really sorry so maybe it was time to ease a little. "I'm free tomorrow."

"Great." He smiled and you walked out the door. He may have made fun of you all these years but maybe he was different. Should you forget?

[violetsmoak]

Tabula Rasa [7/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/49466486

Blanket Disclaimer:

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn’t know and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn’t care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (Rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #soulmate aversion #secret identity 

First Chapter

Author’s Note(s): In which as time passes, Jay's not having an easy time coping with all this soulmate stuff, and Tim's still trying to figure everything out. And Alfred is his usual awesome self.

________________________________________________________________

“Forget almost being assassinated, how did he not die just from tripping over something in the dark, or eating expired food?” Jason asks as he looks around the disaster zone that is Tim Drake’s apartment. There are takeout containers and empty coffee cups covering every surface, and clothing soiled with dirt and blood and what looks like sewer sludge strewn across the floor. Packaging and bubble wrap twist around the legs of tables and extension cables create startlingly effective tripwire traps. “Can’t you people afford a maid service?”

“Surely even you aren’t so thick that you don’t understand why that would be a bad idea,” Damian points out as he walks in behind him, carrying several large boxes from the local hardware depot. As he deposits them, he surveys the apartment with something more like horror than disgust. “This is the residence of the man my grandfather considers his equal?”

“He’s not usually this bad,” Dick says with a sigh as he closes the door behind him with one hand and deposits his own burden of packages. His eyes rove across the open concept living area with a worried expression. “I was here like three weeks ago and it was spotless. I mean, his room was a disaster zone, but that’s just Tim. Messy genius, you know?”

“If this is how he lives, perhaps the social workers are correct that he needs a more qualified minder.”

Dick ignores that. “I don’t get it. It’s like he just gave up. What the hell happened?”

Jason remains quiet; he has a nasty suspicion he knows exactly what made Tim stop caring.

Whatever, I’m making up for it now, aren’t I? In fucking spades…

He’s been avoiding Tim’s apartment for weeks now, stubbornly squatting in different buildings every night or shelling out for a motel when he wants an actual bed or shower. But the last few days he found several itching bites on his skin, and hell no. He swore when Bruce took him in, he was done with bedbugs and lice and any other critter that can be found in questionably cleaned bedding.

As luck would have it, Dick was on his way over here with Damian to install handicap bars in Tim’s bathroom and check the place over for any other chores or tasks that needed doing.

“I still don’t see the point of that,” Jason says, nodding at the boxes of tools and components. “In what universe do you see B letting Tim leave the manor any time in the next year or so? Even when he gets his memories back.”

“It’s a compliance thing,” Dick informs him. “Now that Tim’s making actual strides in recovery, social services will be coming at some point to check that everything is set up for his rehabilitation if he chooses to come here. If it’s not done, it won’t look good.”

“That chick’s still pushing this?”

“Oh yeah. She keeps coming up with new requirements she insists be filled. Independent psych evaluations, bi-monthly physicals performed by state doctors—she even wants him to attend mandatory rehabilitation at some government facility in Blüdhaven.”

“What? Why there?”

“Aside from the fact Gotham’s mental health infrastructure is riddled with the criminally insane?”

“Fair…”

“Babs looked into her and it looks like Bruce had the right idea. Gillian Sato’s a nobody. Completely average in everything, trying to make a name in her department by going after a big fish. And you know that Bruce has been CPS’ great white whale since he took me in. You too.”

“I remember,” Jason says with a scowl.

It was shortly after he was taken in by Bruce. He had just started as Robin, was beginning to see Bruce and Alfred as family and the manor as home. And then some do-gooder social worker with the ‘best intentions’ and a dislike of Brucie Wayne exploited a technicality that let her remove Jason from the Wayne household. The next weeks and months dragged Jason through such an emotional wringer that his already abundant trust issues increased by orders of magnitude. Even before he and Bruce started to butt heads later, Jason would never truly be at ease in the manor ever again.

Or anywhere, really.

People let you down. People left. People could be taken away from you. These were the facts of life, and Jason vowed never to forget them again.

It’s yet another reason he’s so resistant to the idea of soulmates. Having one just makes it easier to be let down or to have them taken away. Hell, he’s seen that firsthand, hasn’t he? A simple errant bullet and he almost had to watch his die. He can’t even imagine what this whole ordeal would feel like if he was close to Tim.

Lost in his thoughts, it takes him a moment to realize Dick is still talking.

“…her higher-ups barely know anything about her. Most of them are willing to let this thing with Tim go, but she’s the one who keeps pushing it. Poking for loopholes whenever she hits a new roadblock.”

“So have Barbie make her go away,” Jason suggests.

“And give support to the idea Bruce Wayne is above the law because of his money?” Dick challenges. “That would put a lot more attention on the issue than anyone wants. For now, we just play it the legal way. Once Tim’s eighteen, she’ll have lost a major avenue to exploit.”

“Which means you guys have to put up with her trying to wrap you in red tape for the next four months at least.”

“This is ridiculous,” Damian mutters.

“I know.”

“Not that—although yes, this farce of legal compliance is a waste of everyone’s time. But I’m talking about how no one has done anything about Drake’s condition other than wring their hands.”

“Excuse me?!”

“If we’re ever going to go on with our lives, he must be fixed, and faster than some useless stretching is going to do.”

“Kid, how exactly do you think your dad got back to fighting condition after Bane broke his back?” Jason questions. “‘Useless stretching’ was a big part of it.”

“And a hell of a lot of drive,” Dick adds. “Which Tim doesn’t really have enough of right now. I mean, I know he wants to get better, but it’s not the same as if he knew who he was.”

“Exactly. He would already be walking, I’m sure,” Damian nods. “Then you’re in agreement with me.”

“Well, yeah—wait. What am I agreeing with?” Dick asks, suspicious.

“Through my observations of the situation, I have determined that Drake is unlikely to ever regain full functionality or his memory. The easiest way to fix this would be a Lazarus Pit. I happen to know of one in Cuba.”

“Holy no Batman!” Dick cries. “Did you forget what happened when I tried doing that for Bruce?”

“It would be different in this case, since we know for sure that it’s Drake and not a decoy,” Damian argues. “At least, the body bit. And Todd recovered from brain damage thanks to the Pit.” He considers Jason. “Well. More or less. I did not know you before, therefore I have no basis of comparison.”

“And you also missed the murderous rampage that happened afterward,” Jason growls. “Not being able to control yourself sucks. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Even Tim.

Especially not Tim.

“If anyone possesses the ability to fight off the effects of the Lazarus Pit, it’s Drake,” Damian insists. “He does not have the same latent anger or violent tendencies as Todd’s files say he had.”

“Hey, stay the hell out of my business!”

“Tim might not be as violent as Jason is or was—”

“Screw you, Dickhead.”

“—but he definitely has the capacity for anger. And as it is, he suffers from severe depression,” Dick informs them soberly. “To the point where he’s considered suicide at least once in the past.”

Damian and Jason’s eyes snap to his face.

“What?” Jason demands.

“That was not in his file.”

“Because he didn’t want it there,” Dick tells them, weary. “In case someone tried to use it against him.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of fucking important to people know about?” Jason demands. “Especially if they have to go out in the field with him?”

He’s having a sudden flashback to the night when everything came out into the open, when he swooped in to save Tim from a fall that he should have been able to divert himself.

Shit. What if that wasn’t an accident like I thought?

“We all have things in our history we don’t want in the files,” Dick reminds them, his face becoming hard for a moment as if he’s remembering something. Then he shakes it off. “Tim’s been dealing with it. He’s on medication, he reaches out when it gets bad…but it’s an ongoing process. I don’t need to tell you guys that.”

“If he didn’t want anyone knowing, he’s going to be pissed you tattled.”

“I’m only speaking up so Damian understands what a bad idea it would be to put Tim in a Lazarus Pit. Depression on top of Pit madness? I don’t want to even think about what he might do.”

Not to mention bringing him anywhere near where Ra’s might pop up is asking for trouble, especially since he can’t fight him off right now.

“So, you are insisting on this waiting nonsense,” Damian concludes, looking frustrated.

“It’s all we can do for now, Little D.”

The kid’s expression remains stormy.

⁂

Damian strides into Tim’s bedroom one morning, wearing a determined expression and followed by his gigantic dog, Titus.

Tim feels a little wary, not so much because of the intimidating canine, but because his younger brother rarely comes near him voluntarily.

“I have read in numerous medical journals the benefits of animal companions in increasing the likelihood of recovery from traumatic brain injuries,” he announces. “Since Father is adamant, we are not getting another dog, I have decided to allow you to spend time with Titus while I am engaged in my studies. I am confident it will contribute to improvement in your condition.” He gestures at the dog. “Titus, stay with Drake. I shall collect you later.”

Then he nods to himself, as if concluding business, and leaves the room.

Tim stares after him, utterly bewildered at the turn of events. Titus watches the boy go, whines for a moment, and then looks over his shoulder at Tim, head cocked to one side as if wondering what that was all about.

All he can do is shrug, which he feels ridiculous about a moment later because Titus is a dog and has a limited understanding (even if Damian speaks to him as if he’s a human being). Still, a beat later, the dog wanders over to Tim’s bed, and rests his head upon the mattress, gazing up at Tim with curious eyes, his tail wagging somewhat.

Slowly, Tim reaches out with his right hand and places it on the dog’s head, causing the tail-wagging to speed up, and scratches him behind the ears.

Titus thus becomes a semi-permanent element of Tim’s recovery process. Damian comes by every morning to drop the dog off as if he’s a parent leaving a child at daycare or school and leaves for several hours. Titus then goes to Tim for obligatory head-pats and only lets up when it becomes clear Tim’s energy is flagging. Even then, he doesn’t go anywhere, simply curling up beside Tim’s bed. When Damian returns, he pokes his head in, nods again, and gestures for the dog to depart with him.

The whole situation is bizarre, but Tim thinks it’s the way Damian expresses worry.

Having Titus around has the added benefit of intimidating Gillian Sato whenever she comes for one of her ‘visits’. Jay can’t always make it there before she does, and she somehow manages to insist on meeting with Tim privately to avoid bias (which he doesn’t understand). Those visits when Jay isn’t present are as short as possible to comply with her wishes, but they’re long enough that Tim is always exhausted and confused at their end. With Titus there, he’s at least a bit more comfortable; the dog appears to sense when his anxiety is climbing or when Ms. Sato says something that makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s rather concerning, Timothy,” she tells him in a voice meant to be kind. “Considering all the resources Mr. Wayne has at his disposal, that he insists you recover here. Instead of in a facility specifically created to rehabilitate TBI patients. It’s almost as if he’s trying to keep you here under his watchful eye.” She leans forward, expression worrying. “You want to get better as soon as possible, don’t you?”

Before Tim can try to parse out exactly what she’s asking him (because he knows somehow the words don’t match her intention), Titus hackles raise, and he begins to growl.

Almost that same instant, Alfred will sweep in and declare that Tim is quite tired today, perhaps they can continue this interview some other time?

Tim wonders if he isn’t standing at the door eavesdropping, even though somehow, he can’t reconcile that image in his head.

Depending on the time of day that Ms. Sato arranges her ‘visit’, the family member that sits with him changes. He much prefers when it’s Jay—he’s the only one whose presence helps Tim calm down quickly after such an interview—but he’s learning to appreciate and trust everyone else in his family.

He’s come a long way since waking up in the hospital and seeing nothing but a bunch of strangers.

Bruce continues to make efforts to spend time with Tim when he wakes up in the mornings. In addition to the sudoku and crossword puzzles, which Tim has started trying to do himself in his spare time, Bruce has started playing other games with him. First Go Fish, and later Memory.

They were games suggested by Dr. Thrussell to help with Tim’s mental rehabilitation, but it turns out playing with Bruce is fun. His expression is awfully serious for what Tim knows are simple children’s games, but he always becomes exceedingly pleased when Tim makes a correct guess.

Dick, who Tim has learned from Alfred is a police officer, is not always around due to his work shifts being somewhat irregular, but when he is, he goes out of his way to help Tim with whatever he might need. It’s both touching and overwhelming; Tim likes Dick, but he feels the same amount of mental exhaustion when he leaves as he does when Ms. Sato does.

How does one person have that much energy?

His favorites besides Jay, are Cassandra and Stephanie.

Steph is nice, as well. She’s affectionate with him, has a good sense of humor, and unlike everyone else who seems wary about touching Tim beyond helping him groom himself or for physio, she’s very tactile.

And she smells nice.

He feels a level of comfort with her that is like when he’s with Jay, which he supposes is because they used to date before she and Cass discovered they were soulmates. Perhaps it’s why he doesn’t question her presence in his life the way he still does sometimes with Bruce or Dick or Damian.

And then there’s Cassandra, who’s just…amazing.

Because she’s like him, somehow.

There’s intelligence in her eyes, but she has trouble getting the words out just like he does. When she sees him struggling with his brain to mouth disconnect, she looks empathetic and he knows it’s not pity or guilt.

The latter is a look he’s started to recognize in Jay, and he doesn’t like it.

He wonders if whatever makes him look like that is the reason he doesn’t get along with the rest of the family. He wishes he could ask, though he suspects even if he could, he wouldn’t get a straight answer.

He’s not sure if that’s normal for this family, or if it’s just another attempt to keep from upsetting Tim. Ever since he started to improve, everyone seems to be wanting to keep him occupied and entertained. Sometimes it’s fun—like today, with Steph egging him on while playing Candy Crush—and other times, it’s just…

Exhausting.

His convalescence aside, Tim has noticed there are times when he feels exhausted and strained for reasons other than his injury. He doesn’t know where those feelings come from, just that he dislikes them.

⁂

One evening, a little over three months following the shooting, Jason shuffles into the manor and wonders how this became routine for him.

It should worry him; how easy it’s been to slip back into the habit of being greeted by Alfred. Into toeing off his boots in the entrance closest and loitering in the kitchen to see if there’s anything left over from lunch or dinner.

It’s deceptively simple to fall into the mental trap of calling this place home again, which is why he never lets himself stay longer than a few hours. Even when Alfred keeps offering to make up a guest room or tries to tempt him with homemade scones for breakfast the next morning.

(He can’t go near his old room, the mausoleum to shattered dreams and stolen childhood.)

Jason’s usual arguments against that are quieter right now, his mind on what Damian said the other day: that no one is trying to help Tim.

In the strictest sense, the sentiment is bullshit; everyone in the Family has been bending over backward trying to make his rehabilitation priority, to protect him from two-faced social workers and asshole paparazzi looking for a story. But there’s been no headway on the shooting, and he wonders if anyone else but him is still looking into it.

Which is stupid, because he knows for a fact that Bruce is a dog with a bone and won’t let any case go, let alone one where his kid got hurt.

So why hasn’t he found anything yet?

He knows from experience, both as Robin and Red Hood, that some cases take longer than others. Bruce spent an entire year investigating the Holiday killings before Jason got involved, and during their years together there were several ongoing cases that dragged for weeks and months before a break could be made.

There are some that remain unsolved to this day.

But this is Tim, you’d think he’d be more motivated. Unless…

Unless he has found something and just doesn’t want to share it because he thinks Jason’s going to go on a vengeful, murderous rampage.

He clenches his fists.

It wouldn’t be the first time that Bruce kept something from him or anyone else if he’s on a case he’s decided is his. He even keeps Dick out of the loop on stuff like that, and he’s the golden child.

Jason’s probably just being paranoid.

Except…

Except he learned paranoia from the best, and that paranoia isn’t always just paranoia, and if Bruce thinks he’ll react badly to something, of course he’s going to keep it from him. Which means they’re going to have a problem because this case isn’t going to get solved if they can’t share important information.

Instead of heading toward Tim’s bedroom, Jason changes course and makes a beeline for the Cave entrance in the study.

He reaches the bottom of the staircase just in time to see Nightwing and Robin peel out of the garage on two bikes. A cowl-free Batman is hunched over the computer, looking up something on the main screen, while the ones off to the sideshow various CCTV feeds from the Narrows, Tricorner and Burnley.

He catches flashes of Black Bat and Signal in the latter two, and scowls.

“I should be out there.”

“That’s not your concern right now,” Bruce replies without even turning around. “You should be upstairs with Tim.”

There’s a derisive snort at that, and Jason glances over to see Blondie balanced on her own bike, adjusting her hair beneath her cowl.

“Problem, Bat-chick?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t sound like nothin’.”

“Just seems like certain people are easier to forgive than others.”

“Stephanie,” Bruce warns, still not looking at either of them.

“No, it’s fine,” she replies. “Let’s keep tiptoeing around the giant pink elephant in the room. And by giant pink elephant, I mean crime lord.”

“That what you’re goin’ with?” Jason challenges. “You’ve been stewin’ on that for three months, and you’re gonna give me grief over bullshit that’s over and done with?”

“Clearly it’s not over and done with.”

“If you’ve got a problem with me, strap on the steel tits and own up to what it’s really about.”

“Okay, fine!” Blondie hops off the bike to march forward, stopping a good foot away from him and shoving a finger at him. “You might be his soulmate, but don’t think that gets you off for all the crap you’ve pulled. Especially since you’ve known this whole time.”

“What I know or knew is none of your business. But if you really want to have a competition about who hurt him most, my name ain’t the only one on the list.”

“Are you seriously trying to pull the ‘everyone else did it too so it’s okay’ defense?”

“No, I’m telling you to be careful in that fragile fucking glass house of yours.”

“Speaking of houses, how long are you going to keep playing house with Tim before you break his heart again? Are you going to do it right when he gets his memories back, or wait a few days for him to adjust and then drop him?”

“You think I’d be that big an asshole?”

“I know you’re that big an asshole. And so did Tim,” she shoots back, merciless. “He told me you were dead.”

“I was dead.”

“And then you weren’t. And he still always told that to anyone who asked. He knew whatever this is with you, it was never going to happen, but it also wasn’t going away. So, he was trying to move on. And if he’s smart—which we all know Tim is, memories or not—he’ll stick to that gut feeling. Because the longer he’s involved with you, the more hurt he’s going to be when you inevitably break his heart. If you were any kind of decent, you’d get the hell out of his life before he finishes imprinting on you like a baby chick.”

“That’s enough,” Bruce says, and this time he does turn around. “Stephanie, patrol.”

“I’m going,” she replies. “But not because you told me to.”

She stalks toward her bike, and after a few angry revs of the engine, speeds off out of the cave.

Bruce is still looking in Jason’s direction; he can feel the frown. “Provoking her isn’t helpful to anyone, least of all Tim.”

“What argument were you watching?” Jason shoots back. “If anyone’s provoking anyone else, it’s her. And I’m telling you now, B, if she wants a fight, I’ll give it to her. I’m putting up with enough crap because of this soulmate thing, I didn’t sign on to let Timbo’s pissed off ex-girlfriend take shots at me.”

“The lack of evidence in this case is frustrating everyone.”

Jason gives him a disbelieving look—there’s no way that Bruce can be so emotionally stunted that he can’t figure out what Blondie’s little tiff was all about.

Then again…yes, he is.

Rather than stew over Blondie’s accusations (and the fact that she’s got more of a point than he’d like), Jason decides to focus on what Bruce actually said.

“So you haven’t found anything on your end, either?”

He leans against the giant computer, keeping a conspicuous distance between him and Bruce, and trying not to feel awkward and naked without his helmet on. He doesn’t actually remember the last time he was down here and not in uniform.

“No.”

“Really. Nothing? Not a single goddamn clue? This is all just some random person that decided to take the kid out?”

“It’s not the first time someone has attempted to assassinate Tim.”

“Yeah, but I heard about that, it was all planned for. This wasn’t.”

“Hence the continued investigation.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no way you’ve been on the case this long and haven’t found something.”

Bruce is quiet for a moment and then nods. “Based on the lack of available evidence, whoever did this was a professional. Elite even.”

“No shit. We knew that from Day One.”

“I’ve since narrowed down a list of suspects from around the world, who have the capability of pulling this off.”

“And?”

“And they’re all either accounted for or dead.”

“So why do you look more constipated about this than usual? You’ve had harder cases with less evidence.”

“Almost all of these snipers were trained by David Cain.”

The name makes Jason tense. “He’s dead.”

“Yes. But before he died, he mentioned something to me. That there were others.”

“Others like Cass, you mean.”

“Hn.”

Jason grits his teeth. “So, your theory is some designer assassin Child o’ Cain decided to come to Gotham just to shoot Tim?”

“It’s not a theory. Just a possible connection. There’s too little evidence to support it.”

“Then what the hell are you spending the time on it for?” Jason demands. “If we’re going for wild conspiracy theories, why not an alternate universe or time travel? It’s just as easy to speculate someone came back in time to assassinate Tim or put him out of commission for whatever reason.”

“I won’t discount those theories either,” Bruce allows, because of course. “But in either situation, anyone coming here for Tim specifically would likely be enhanced to survive whatever means brought them here.”

“Or it’s one of us.”

Bruce doesn’t meet his gaze, but there’s a subtle tensing of his shoulder muscles.

“I saw that,” Jason points out quietly. Bruce says nothing. “You think it would be me, don’t you?”

“I never said that.”

“If it were one of us, I’m the best marksman, so if it were anyone of ours to come back and put a bullet in his head, it’d be me.”

Bruce stands then, agitated. “You’re jumping to conclusions and letting your feelings cloud your judgment. This is only one of many theories, not even the one that’s most likely—”

“Except we both know that ain’t the case!” Jason snarls. “You know as well as I do, I’m probably the reason he got shot in the first place!”

“Jason—”

“I did this, B! I was in the middle of a pissing contest with some asshole moving in on my turf and Tim got caught in the crossfire. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself!”

“You did not cause Tim to be shot,” Bruce snaps.

“That’s not what you thought when it happened,” Jason reminds him bitterly.

“And I’ve since revised my opinion. I don’t believe this to be related to the contract that was put out on Red Hood.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a totally glowing recommendation!”

“Whoever is after you obviously isn’t aware of your civilian identity, or they would still be pursuing you,” Bruce replies. “Going underground would only keep you safe for so long, and it’s been months. Whoever is targeting you may have been watching Red Hood, but they weren’t watching you. Therefore, the likelihood of Tim’s shooting having anything to do with your activities is low.”

“Seriously? That’s your explanation?”

“Jason,” Bruce sighs, and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose in a familiar gesture of exhaustion. “I’m trying to tell you I don’t think you’re responsible for this. Why are you fighting me on it?”

“Because nothing is ever that easy with you! And you’re usually the one driving the ‘Jason messes everything up’ bandwagon. Don’t tell me that’s changed all because I happen to be the kid’s soulmate.”

“That has nothing to do with it. I’ve already explained my reasoning, and it’s enough for me at the moment.” He fixes Jason with a calculating look that he doesn’t like. “The question is, why are you so determined to make it your fault?”

Jason opens his mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in his throat as he realizes he has no idea how to answer that.

Bruce continues. “Your behavior is inconsistent.”

“Hell, yes, it’s inconsistent! It’s been months and I still have no fucking idea how I’m supposed to deal with all of this!”

“Perhaps you should take some time,” the older man replies, turning his attention back to the computer. “Away from here.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “Away from Tim, you mean.”

“He’s at the point where he is no longer uncomfortable with the rest of us, and you did make it clear that you only intended to stay by his side until his condition improved. I’m sure with some explanation you could take some time. It might help.”

“You just…that’s not even…”

Jason falters, not sure how to respond, because really, this is his get-out-of-jail-free card. He did say he was only going to stick around until Tim was doing better, and the kid is doing better. He can get back to his search for the dick that got him to go to ground, can get back to living his life the way he wants it and not based around a convalescent’s schedule.

But the idea of it just now, makes him feel queasy, like he’s running a dirty deal.

And on top of that, it bothers him that while Bruce is certain he’s not responsible for Tim’s injury, he still obviously has an issue with the fact they’re soulmates.

It shouldn’t bother him.

It absolutely should not bother him.

And yet.

“You’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?” he snaps, and heads right back up the stairs, mind racing and unable to settle on a single conflicted thought.

Upon reaching the study he finds Alfred on his way in, a tray of tea and sandwiches in hand. The older man takes one look at him and purses his lips, and puts down his burden.

“From your expression, I suspect Master Bruce will be sulking too much the rest of the evening to be interested in dinner.”

“Like I care,” Jason grunts, slamming the false front of the clock entrance closed.

“Were that the case, you would not be damaging the furniture.”

Jason scowls, though it’s somewhat tempered when Alfred offers him the sandwiches he was obviously about to bring down to Bruce.

He takes a petty satisfaction in polishing off every bit of food and tea while Alfred pretends to busy himself with tidying the already pristine study. Although he’s clearly remaining nearby should Jason need him, he doesn’t try to force a conversation.

How does he always know…?

Jason surprises himself when he’s the one to break the silence. “Why the hell does this soulmate shit have to be so complicated? Everyone else just gets it, and I just want to jump out of my fucking skin because it’s making me crazy.”

For once, Alfred doesn’t comment on his language.

“As I understand it, you have never had another person with whom you could confide about this before. You had not manifested your mark when you first came to us, and Master Bruce does tend to avoid matters of the heart and soul except when necessity requires it.”

Jason grumbles, “No kidding.”

It’s not just now, either.

Years back, Bruce got through the sex talk with his usual emotionless, detached aplomb, but didn’t bother with any of the other stuff. Jason would have thought the guy had no heart at all, except he saw how invested he got with the women in his life that mattered.

“And I would imagine discussing it with Mr. Harper and Ms. Anders has not helped, given the substantial difference in circumstances.”

“You got that right…”

“Then perhaps I might offer my own understandings if only to provide another perspective.”

Jason shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like anyone else cares, other than to look like I kicked a puppy whenever I’m in the room with Tim.”

“It has always been my belief that one’s soulmate is the person who will have the most impact on one’s life.”

“So why isn’t mine the Joker?” Jason shoots back spitefully.

“As if that creature ever had a soul,” Alfred scoffs.

“I’m just sayin’, your logic’s flawed.”

“And if you think a homicidal clown gets to claim to be the biggest impact on your life, I wash my hands of you. Do you realize you are scarcely 21 years old? You have an awful lot of life ahead of you to have that one moment, traumatic as it was, to define all of it. Perhaps in those first few months or years following the incident, yes. But you have a future, Master Jason. Soulmates are not just for the moment, but for the breadth of your lifespan. And however much strangeness we see on a regular basis in this world of ours, none of us have the ability to discern the future.”

“Except maybe Duke.”

“Except perhaps Master Duke,” Alfred allows, his mouth twitching somewhat. “But even that only comes in flashes. He cannot know it all. And neither can you.”

“Is that your convoluted way of telling me ‘chin up’?”

“That is my convoluted way of telling you that you are not the only person to find the matter of soulmates difficult to navigate. And no one—not even Master Bruce—is expecting you to figure it all out right away.”

Jason snorts. “You sure about that?”

Alfred simply raises an eyebrow as if insulted by his pearls of wisdom being questioned, and Jason raises his hands in surrender.

Never question Alfred. He knows everything.

Still, he suspects that Bruce will be getting a rather pointed talking-to in the near future. It makes him feel marginally better about the whole thing.

“Now,” the older man continues in a businesslike tone, “Timothy is in the family room this afternoon. However, I would understand if you do not feel up to seeing him today and would be perfectly willing to make an excuse for your absence should you require it.”

Jason almost accepts the out, but then remembers Bruce making a similar suggestion—albeit with more suspect motives—and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he sighs. “Knowing Timbers, he’s been waiting up all day. Least I can do is say 'hi'.”

“Indeed,” Alfred agrees neutrally, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that suggests approval.

As long as no one else decides to ambush me with their emotional crap today, it should be fine, Jason decides, leaving the study and wandering down the hall.

⁂

Tim is sitting in the family room watching Arranged.

He spends most of his time there, either alone or with whatever member of the family is still at home that day. After so long being practically bedridden, he’s desperate to be anywhere that’s not his bedroom.

Alfred wheels him out into the gardens whenever it’s not raining or damp or windy (which, being May, it almost always is), and he’s since enjoyed the sun on his face for the first time that he can remember. He also got to experience his apparent first sunburn, because it seems his skin is notoriously sensitive.

Worth it though, to be outside.

He shifts, sitting up on the couch in front of the large television. He’s surrounded by a staggering number of blankets and pillows; Tim’s not even sure he really needs them to support him anymore—he’s been sitting up on his own for a while—but Alfred insists it’s better safe than sorry.

Titus is lying on his feet, dozing but alert. Tim’s wheelchair stands beside the couch, with Alfred the Cat (Damian seems to not have much imagination when it comes to pet names) curled up on the seat. Occasionally he opens one eye as if to check on Tim, and then returns to sleep.

He’s not a bad recovery-cat, I guess.

On-screen, Cordelia de Vere and Bertram Montmorency get to know one another and discover they actually get along, being of complementary temperaments. They have undeniable chemistry and their dialog is full of witty diatribe and veiled insults that he can’t help enjoying. It’s much more interesting than what Cordelia had with her soulmate, which he agrees with Jay about. Tim’s not sure if it’s a better match than Bertram and Maurice, who the prince continues to see in secret. Meanwhile, Gerald seems to be getting along just fine, joining the army and vowing to build himself up to meet the standards of Cordelia’s parents. He doesn’t actually seem outwardly bothered by her absence, except for several sequences of him writing her love letters.

“Never mind a bullet, this is the kind of crap that gives you brain damage,” a voice informs Tim, amused and somewhat mocking as usual.

Tim’s eyes snap instantly to Jay as he appears in the room, and he feels a smile break out on his face.

“Hi.”

It’s one of the words he’s been working on in therapy and can finally say it without having to mentally or actually hum through a children’s nursery rhyme song. It gives him a thrill of accomplishment, albeit one that pales at the thrill when Jason’s eyes widen in surprise, and then something that Tim imagines might be pride.

“Hi back,” he replies and glances around the room. The car glares up at him like he expects him to question or end his occupation of the space, but Jason simply throws himself down on the nearby easy chair—it’s the only piece of furniture free of pillows and blankets—and squints at the television. “I can’t believe you’re still watching this.”

Tim snorts and shoots Jason a wry look, mentally telegraphing his thoughts. And what are you doing right now?

“Don’t give me that, I’m humoring the invalid.”

“Uh-huh,” Tim grunts.

“That’s a lot of sarcasm for someone who can’t manage actual words yet.”

Tim doesn’t take Jason’s abrasive comments as an insult. Along with Steph, he is the only one that doesn’t try to coddle him. He talks to Tim the same way he talks to everyone else, which, like he’s equal to them even though his brain is making things hard for him right now.

Still, the reminder of his lack of verbosity directly on the heels of his recent accomplishments strikes something in Tim, something like annoyance. Something that suddenly wants to prove a point.

He frowns in effort, trying to line up thoughts and words and the movement of his mouth.

“This is seriously predictable,” Jason complains. “Obviously the writers are trying to set it up that he shows up again and sweeps her off her feet. Then the rich boy goes back to his boyfriend and watching all this is a total waste of time.” Tim doesn’t respond, and Jason glances over at him to gauge his reaction. Only to notice now that Tim is watching him instead of the show, mouth turned downward in a frown. “What?”

Tim’s lips part, then purse, and he makes a kind of humming noise in his throat, closing his eyes in concentration. He takes a deep breath and then utters a sound.

“Ju…jjuh…juh-ay…”

He blinks, somewhat surprised by himself. Jason seems to echo it. “Did you just…?”

Tim’s mouth quirks upward and he feels almost smug. Then, he slowly sounds out the word again. “Ja-ay.”

It’s slow and stilted, and his voice is raspy from disuse, but it’s there, decrying his enforced muteness.

Jay is sitting up ramrod straight now. “Holy shit, you’re trying to talk.”

The naked awe on his soulmate’s face makes him feel warm, and so Tim plods onward, ignoring the way sweat breaks out on the back of his neck or the way he feels a little dizzy.

“Th…than…kyuu…”

Jay’s expression appears to shutter, awe becoming confusion. “Uh…for what?”

“Sa…say…” Tim is panting a bit from the effort now.

“Hey, forget it, don’t push yourself,” Jason implores him, sitting up and making a pacifying gesture. “Three words is enough progress for—”

“Say-ved,” Tim interrupts doggedly. “Safe. Me. Heard…duh…di…Dick…say. You. Say-ved me.”

There.

That was almost two full sentences. He knows they’re crude and basic and maybe not quite what he was trying to say, but he managed to communicate on his own without blinking. It fills him with a buoyant glee, a bubbling temptation to laugh though he knows from experience that doing that would just make his head spin and throb.

He expects Jay to look proud again, happy or relieved—maybe even a sarcastic, teasing quip.

What he doesn’t expect is the wild gleam in Jay’s eye or the way the blood rushes from his cheeks. He looks like someone punched him, and then he’s standing, backing away.

“That…” He swallows. “I’ve got to…”

He doesn’t finish and instead turns and practically bolts from the room, leaving Tim staring after him in shocked dismay, wondering what just happened.

________________________________________________________________

To Be Continued

Poor Timmy. And just when he's starting to show some of his old spunk, too...

Things are heading for their first boiling point. Someone's got to knock some sense into Jay, either literally or metaphorically (who wants to take bets on who it will be?). 

[lucky-dreamfisher]

BATIM Chapter 2 - Detailed Analysis #3

Right outside Sammy's office we can find Wally's audio log. But something's very strange about it! 

The tape ends with "I hope nobody tells Sammy!", yet it's placed in a spot Sammy would definitely find it. Looking closer, we notice a splatter of ink behind the shelf with the audio log. It was attached to the wall in the same way as the speakers in the main hall. The audio log and the Bendy cutout are both clean, despite having huge splatters of ink behind them - a sign they were placed there already after the leak was made. 

Ah, yes Audiolog/Name_Sammy, my favourite BATIM character. Funny how his favourite song keeps changing with each loop.

Come to think of it... "Bendy" was asking Sammy about his favourite songs, wasn't he? I wonder if that was when this audio log was recorded? Norman did say that Sammy was willing to kick the entire band along with himself out of the recording studio, just to keep his Sactuary a secret from them all. Why on Earth would he record instructions on how to get inside and keep it in Wally's closet, of all places? 

Speaking of Sanctuaries, this is the first mention of Joey's. It probably refers to the area between the Vault and the Ink machine, with a copy of Henry's desk inside it. The fact that Joey was willing to share such a secret personal fact with Sammy may hint that there was a time he put a lot of trust in the man. 

By the way, Wally's closet sure contains a lot of objects we can find as offerings in Bendy's shrines! Either he was involved in some shady occult stuff during his time working at the studio, or the closet was open moments before we arrived, and Sammy used it for storage after the studio closed down. Considering that suspicious audio log outside of Sammy's office, here's what I think happened: 

Bender is trying to prevent us from leaving the studio, but he also wants to keep us busy, as he prepares for the next step in his grand scheme. He asked Sammy about the songs, in order to record the instructions for us to get inside the Sanctuary. He then put it inside Wally's closet, tossed the keys into a random garbage bin, and left Wally's tape by Sammy's office, to send us on a pointless fetch quest. This bought him some precious time. 

Considering the message on the wall, the ritual circle, and the freshly lit candle, Sammy still visits his Sanctuary on a regular basis. As we approach the circle, we can hear strange, unidentified whispers. 

We can also find Joey's untitled book inside. Was this where he learned everything he knows about the rituals? That's unlikely - we can find copies of this book all over the studio and I don't think Joey would be this open about magic with all of his employees. Did Joey personally teach Sammy about the occult? Or was it something he's learned during the 20 years of his imprisonment? 

Upon leaving the Sanctuary, we encounter another Bendy cutout scare. As we turn our back to investigate, we are attacked by a group of Searchers. It was a trick! 

There's an ink trail leading from the cutout to the Sanctuary. Sure enough - there's a Searcher waiting for us inside after the battle ends. Another Searcher is hidden between the instruments, while 7 more are blocking our way out of the recording studio. Once again, it's 9 searchers in total - those must be the same band members that we'd killed before. This gives us some idea about how fast searchers can respawn. 

The cutout used as the decoy seems to be one of those Sammy moved around the room earlier in the chapter. We can see him standing next to the other cutouts, as he watches the massacre unfold. It's no wonder Sammy doesn't wish to face us in an open battle - we've proven ourselves to be capable fighters. 

As we descend to the infirmary, we meet yet another searcher. Was this the one who moaned as we played the organ? He's fairly close to Johnny's room, close enough to hear the instrument and close enough for us to hear him. We may have killed him when he flooded the studio, which explains why he's not thrilled to see us down here. 

Worth noting is the fact that there are stairs leading down to the infirmary. This would imply that Joey's illness hasn't yet rendered him immobile. Considering that his meetings with Thomas down in the sewers started in 1943, his disability happened very late in the studio's history. There's an appointment with Dr Hackenbush on the meeting's board in the administration, so whatever happened to Joey must have happened at some point between the moment when the Ink machine was finished, and the moment when the studio closed down. 

Wait, what is THAT? Why are there two shafts inside the studio with the exact same name? That's either a sign of some strange cartoon physics, or a deliberate intent at hiding the existence of one of the shafts from the employees. Joey could then openly discuss meetings in the other Shaft 9, without worrying that someone might overhear it and identify the place. 

The only person who must have had knowledge about the other shaft's existence would be Thomas, as he was the one in charge of installing the pipes around the studio. Could this be the true reason behind Thomas' secret meeting with Joey? He may have stumbled across something during his work, that he wanted to discuss in privacy. 

Down in the sewers, Sammy is still watching us. He doesn't begin to act until after we kill Jack Fain. It's possible that he was the one who instructed Jack to keep the valve away from us. This would explain Henry's "I don't sing with psychos" message, as there is nothing to suggest Jack is one. The black messages in the sewers must have been left by Sammy, which means he came down there to visit Jack on a regular basis. 

More boards. These had to be put up already after the studio's closure, otherwise poor Jack would have had trouble getting to his desk. Yet another obstacle thrown in our way just to slow us down? 

We have to feel sorry for poor Jack. He is the first ink creature Henry killed, which didn't pose a danger to him. Swollen Searchers seem to be unable to use force, not even to defend themselves. Their bloated bodies burst even from a tiny prick of a needle. Any attempt to strike us would probably kill them. 

As we turn the valve, we can hear the sound of the miner searcher spawning in the ritual room. The hat suggests it was a member of the maintenance. The closest room showing signs of activity from the maintenance staff was the room we found the axe in. It may be that the searcher is following us, because it wants to retrieve its axe. 

This time Henry doesn't say he's sorry. Maybe because he really didn't have to do that this time around? He's growing colder. 

As we take a peek inside Sammy's office, we find another secret message "Creator, You Traitor". On a meta level it's a nod to the Bendy fansong playing in the radio on Sammy's desk. In-universe, it's an interesting implication that Henry, much like the ink creatures inside the studio, refers to Joey as their creator. If Henry is an ink creature, it would mean he was aware of it at the time of writing this message. 

Here's something with massive implications for the lore - the blueprints for the ink machine. There's Wally's name on it, as well as "v.02" in the corner, suggesting that it's the second such design. One of the textures in Joey's apartment from Chapter 5 spells it out in a more explicit way: there was a second ink machine, and Wally has designed it. From the looks of the design, the second version of the machine is the one we've seen back in Chapter 1. The first design might have been the small machine we see in Joey's apartment. 

Why give this task to Wally, out of all people in the studio? Was it simply cheaper than giving this task to Thomas and the Gent company, or could it be that Wally's name was placed on the design plans because Thomas wanted to hide his involvement in Joey's shady business? 

It's also strange that Sammy would have these plans in his office. He's not an engineer, so why would he have any interest in them? They're right next to a burning candle as well. Could it be that someone left these plans here for us to find? 

We have to chuckle a bit at the fact that Sammy has apparently thrown Joey's book in the trash. Not a fan of his writing, apparently. 

There seems to be an interesting relationship between Sammy and Joey. Joey may have given out copies of his book to every employee, but he certainly wouldn't go around telling random people about his secret Sanctuary. Furthermore, Joey seems to have taught Sammy how to create the ritual circles. Sammy is also one of the few people in the studio, who refer to Joey by name, suggesting that the two used to have a close relationship.

There is another, darker explanation for Joey's suggestion regarding the Sanctuary. Looking out of the window in Sammy's office, we have a clear view of the entrance to the infirmary - and to the sewers. Joey's solution to the floods was one that was not permanent - perhaps deliberately so. Sammy was likely to notice Joey and Thomas sneaking down to the sewers. It was therefore in their favor to make Sammy keep away from his office, as often as possible. 

This might be why the pump was installed in Sammy's office, rather than in the room right next to it, or any other place inside the Music Department.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG143 /o/

- Aaaaaand the winner of the Ny-Ålesund mini-arc is… Elias. Which seems to be the Trend of season 4.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron. His performance during The Unknowing was… disappointing. I needed a way to force him to harness his ability more acutely than he had before. The coffin was a useful tool; Daisy an adequate bait. BASIRA: Then you messed up. Way he tells it, he doesn’t know how he got out of there. ELIAS: But he did. And his powers were no small part of it. Even if he required some assistance, they were what saved him. And he’s still achieved what no one – mortal, monster, or anything in-between – has ever been able to. He climbed out of The Buried. BASIRA: [DRY SIGH] What was the point? You won’t be getting your ritual off from in here so, what do you need him for? What’s so important you need him stronger? ELIAS: I have been observing a recent increase in people and supplies being moved to the small town of Ny-Ålesund, in Svalbard. An increase which I believe may be linked to a rather desperate attempt, by the People’s Church of the Divine Host, to perform a crude ritual of their own. To bring their… “Mr. Pitch”… into the world.

* Here we have a rare case of Elias potentially straight-up lying? Manuela… wasn’t doing anything; what was up with this “increase in people and supplies”? …… or was that because tourist season was right around the corner. I mean. He didn’t EXPLICITLY say that those were related to The Dark, only that it could be related. (And, after all, he encouraged Basira to see the aurora borealis right after…)

* It’s still unclear whether Elias is indeed in control (did he really know that Breekon was on the verge of delivering the coffin the following episode, back when he talked to Basira in MAG127?) or just Really Lucky and shameless enough to pretend that everything falls into place when it serves his interests… but with The Dark, he was absolutely spot-on that capitalizing on Jon’s fears would do wonders. And he’s been keeping a verrry close Eye on the Archives, apparently: MAG135 was the episode Jon tried to Know if Gertrude had managed to neutralise The Dark’s ritual, and failed, and was a bit worried that they could still be up to something; cue Elias, right after, mentioning that there was a cell still active in of Ny-Ålesund. In the same way, he had previously (at least claimed to have) used the fact that Daisy was alive and prisoner of the coffin as a motivation for Jon to go in, experience The Buried and… apparently get a power-up, or at least learn a bit more to use his own powers (although Elias acknowledged implicitly that Martin setting up the tape players helped with that at least a little).

* It’s still not absolutely sure whether Elias was the one who sent Jared after the Institute (the official target was Jon, but it could have been a decoy; the consequences, at least, where in Elias’s favour since… the Archives team absolutely shattered following the attack, with Martin asking for Peter’s protection, Melanie getting more Slaughter-y, and Basira getting colder and more strategical). But since Jon woke up… he’s been completing the set of experimenting the fears / getting live (or extracted) statements from spooks tied with other patrons / getting injuries. Previously to his coma, Jon had collected:

~ The Web: close encounter with A Guest for Mr Spider when he was 8. (No live-statement from Spook, no official scar… but the lighter and spiders around him, and the Mother-of-Puppets sending Oliver in MAG121 to push Jon to make a decision, make it very clear that Jon has never truly escaped The Web since back then.)

~ The Eye: was it when he witnessed the other boy getting taken by Mr Spider, without trying to help him? Was it because he began working at the Institute? When he began working in the Archives? When he read his first statement, took the first live one? When he got his first nightmare?

~ The Corruption: heavily injured and scarred by The Hive/Jane Prentiss in MAG039/MAG040. (No live-statement, but Jane’s written one in MAG032, and Jon felt it Strongly.)

~ The Spiral: slashed/stabbed by Michael in MAG047, got lost in The Spiral’s corridors in MAG078-MAG079, also went through Helen’s door in MAG101 and now MAG143. Michael-The-Distortion gave his live-statement in MAG101.

~ The Desolation: shook hands (and effed it up) with Jude Perry in MAG089, received her live-statement in the same episode.

~ The Vast: got “dropped” by Mike Crew in MAG091, which possibly messed up his lungs a bit; received/prompted his live-statement at the same time.

~ The Hunt: found by Daisy in MAG091, then strangled/knifed? by her, and also Hunted by Julia in MAG107. Forced (unknowingly) Daisy to give her statement in MAG061, received a partial one from her again in MAG132; received Trevor&Julia’s statement in MAG109.

~ The Stranger: got deceived by Not!Sasha all through season 2, got strangled by Nikola in MAG097, got kidnapped by Nikola for a month (MAG099 to MAG101), got moisturised by Nikola, was in the middle of The Unknowing when it happened, and managed to See through Nikola (MAG119, “I see you”). “Extracted” Breekon’s statement in MAG128.

… Elias was pretty glad about Jon’s progress when he was on the run from the Institute (MAG080: “Well, he was always going to need to fly the nest at some point. Go out and see the world for himself.” “He might die.” “It’s always a danger. Almost always.” / MAG092: “You were doing fine before you forced this little scene. I suggest you continue.”), and that’s when he got New Experiences. And now, in season 4:

~ The End: should have died in The Unknowing explosion but was too “inhuman” for this, and got stuck “on an edge” during his coma, apparently chose to not die (is that why his injuries heal so fast? We’re not sure it’s Beholding’s effect – it’s possible that, like The End’s victims, Jon… just can’t die anymore because he didn’t want to die and was touched by Terminus). Received Oliver Banks’s statement in MAG121.

~ The Slaughter: got slashed by Melanie right after he extracted her bullet in MAG125, has a scar from it on his shoulder. No live-statement, unless Melanie’s story from MAG117 counts…?

~ The Flesh: got two ribs taken in MAG131, received Jared Hopworth’s live-statement in the same episode.

~ The Buried: got stuck three days in the coffin in MAG132, got scraped everywhere from the walls closing in and experienced the full extent of Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe there. No live-statement from spook so far.

~ The Dark: “Saw” the Dark Sun and killed it in MAG143, right now unclear whether his eyes got impacted (;; he didn’t see that it was Helen before she spoke…). Received Manuela Dominguez’s live-statement in the same episode.

Which leaves…

~ The Lonely: Peter Lukas is still running the Institute, and Jon is missing Martin-who-is-working-for-Peter-and-tempted-by-the-Lonely a LOT. No live-statement from spook yet but, I mean, Peter is still… “right there” (and not there at all).

Elias had hired Melanie, might have known that Breekon was coming with the coffin (as he began to manipulate Basira right before he visited, and then claimed he had made her leave the Institute in order to let Jon descend into the coffin), pushed Basira(&Jon) to go to Norway to stop The Dark, and asked Peter to work as interim head director while he would be in prison (and there is still the matter of Jared’s commissioner). If he needed Jon to complete the set… then yeah, a lot of his actions have gone in that direction?

- Whatever Elias was aiming for, it Smells like he reached it. Was it for Jon to go through a True Dark Experience, which required to find the very few leftovers of the cult? Jon did, getting in contact with the Dark Sun. Was it to take a live-statement from a Dark avatar? Jon did with Manuela. Was it for Jon to push his powers further? Jon did, by staring directly into the Dark Sun. (Was it for Jon to kill his physical eyes? Status unclear at the moment but… it might have happened without characters realising it yet, because the place was dark.) Was it to get Jon to act as an actual avatar, feeding from people’s fears and traumas and terrorising them? Jon did, at least twice, with Floyd in MAG141 and with the unnamed woman in MAG142 who… might have become a Fear battery for him. Other possibilities: he needed Basira&Jon to be away because something was meant to happen at the Institute and/or with Elias’s legal procedure; or the aim was also to make Martin fall deeper into The Lonely/turn his back on Jon, etc. So many possibilities.

And Elias hasn’t moved from prison (… as far as we know) and yet it feels like he’s just. Winning At This Season.

(Though: I’m expecting Elias to be VERY pleased and insufferable about Jon very casually taking live-statements from unwilling people, who specifically Did Not Want to tell him and had… done nothing to deserve the nightmares and the Beholding-torture… but technically, it’s also possible that Elias might be a bit irritated? Because Jon gave the Institute’s name, back in MAG142, and seemed to have acted immoderately for the past three weeks? Elias was all about “moderation” back in MAG092, and he… himself acted with a lot of self-restraint, technically – he has been an utter asshole on all accounts, but he also used his powers sparingly, and never unprompted: Daisy was threatening him in MAG081, Melanie had tried to kill him twice before he traumatised her in MAG106, and he did the same to Martin as a last resort in MAG118, because Martin was doing everything to push Elias to use his powers on him. Comparatively, Jon… has been worse, in MAG141/142, attacking innocents for his own profit, and now aware of the consequences (and honestly, I’m still ill-at-ease at the amount of violation that was at play in MAG142 – even without taking Jon into account… I felt like it was the most intimately violent testimony we have ever heard in the series…). I don’t really believe that Elias is not currently SO VERY PLEASED by Jon’s behaviour, but it could be a twist that he’s, in fact, a bit cross that Jon went wild without any self-control.)

- Once again: MAG135 was a Very Striking case of Elias seemingly reacting to Jon’s concerns – Jon hadn’t been able to tell whether The Dark’s ritual had been neutralised or not, and Elias came up with the Worrying News about The Dark being active right now, in front of Basira, right at the end of the episode. So Elias might be keeping a close eye (ha) on Jon’s doubts, using them to manipulate him and push him in the direction he wants… and you know what Jon hasn’t hidden at all in season 4 and frequently lamented over?

That he’s been worried about Martin.

I have a bit of trouble picturing Elias giving Martin to Peter because he thought it would give Jon his Lonely scar (… because it would have meant, for Elias, to acknowledge that Martin was becoming extremely important to Jon at the end of season 3, and I’m not sure that Elias knew about it or would… acknowledge it at all. He was extremely contemptuous of Martin back then) but… this is definitely something he might be capitalising on now, and hahahaha ;; Martin… Martin, I don’t think you’re likely to die soon-ish (my bet is rather on Daisy orz), but you’re utterly unsafe…

- MMMMMMMMMMMmmMMMmmmm.

There was no mention of Elias’s acquaintances with Rayner in this episode, nothing about his “friendship” with Rayner – Manuela hadn’t named him in her written statement, either, only designing him as “the Head of your Institute”. If it was something about stoner!Elias’s backstory, I think she would have mentioned him here? I mostly have trouble picturing when it could come up, now that it seems that The Dark’s arc has been wrapped up – their ritual failed, Rayner is dead, most avatars are dead, the cult has been mostly eradicated, their Dark Sun was destroyed (there is still the question of what derailed their ritual, but we don’t need to hear much more about the cultists themselves).

I’m still not “feeling” it on a personal level (… or maybe I simply adore the idea that stoner!Elias is his True Backstory, that it’s not a matter of something having taken on his identity) but it does lend even more credit to the theory that Elias is actually Jonah Magnus, since we got confirmation that Jonah and Rayner knew each other in MAG138… and still nothing about Elias&Rayner on their own.

… in any case, WOW did Elias go out of his way to make sure The Dark would be a Done Deal. Manuela pointed out that the Institute (Gertrude? Or more?) had been keeping an eye (ha) on Hither Green (“Hither Green was, I believe, where your Institute was watching, but Natalie’s efforts were a small and meagre part of the greater effort.”), and it was the first place to fall. Elias tipped the police and sent them after the cultists and Rayner in February 2017 (which he confirmed in MAG135), ensuring Rayner’s downfall when it was already akin to kicking a puppy (Manuela: “I can only assume we were too weak to hide from you, and you struck when Maxwell was vulnerable.”). And now, he sent Basira&Jon to take care of one of the last avatars. It sounds very extra and… personal. (But then… it was hinted in MAG053 that proto-Dark and proto-Eye had History, as conflicting sides.)

- tl;dr Basira:

(MAG135) BASIRA: [DRY SIGH] What was the point? You won’t be getting your ritual off from in here so, what do you need him for? What’s so important you need him stronger?

ARE YOU SUPER SURE ELIAS IS NOT ACTUALLY GETTING HIS RITUAL OFF FROM IN THERE.

(YES, I am aware that this is a LOT of Elias Mentions for an episode in which… Elias wasn’t referred to even once aside from the “son of a bitch”. But. But. He pushed in that direction so hard…

And as Melanie had spat in MAG102, “It’s not just being stuck here, Jon. It’s not just me. He’s manipulating you, he’s manipulating all of us. Can you seriously not see that? He’s pulling all the strings, and I don’t think there’s any other way to stop it.”, and once again, what do you know about the Spiders and what is the exact nature of your relationship with them, Elias.)

- Consequences-wise, the Ny-Ålesund trip is potentially dramatic and tragic and filling me with dread (whatever Elias is aiming for, it feels like it might be coming… closer). But in practice, for the arc in itself? It was the most anticlimactic and hilarious thing ever: I was suspecting that Elias might have been highly misleading and that The Dark’s ritual might have been taken care of already, but I was expecting at least actual threats. Jon had mentioned people wearing the symbol of the Church, when he came back to the Institute, and there was still the matter of The Beast, and potentially the Dark Sun, even without Rayner, which could have been enough to Hurt? But no. The Dark Sun wasn’t usable as a power of mass-destruction. The Beast was revealed to have been slain by the cultists themselves. Rayner was confirmed (unless later twist) to have died to Basira and the other Section 31 officers back in season 2, more than a year ago – also confirming that… Natalie might have killed Rayner herself, when she stabbed a possibly possessed Leo Altman as retribution. The ritual had already failed more than three years ago.

Plus, there was the added Hilarity of Manuela spending the episode blaming Gertrude for their plans crashing, and thinking that she was meant to be neutralised by a powerful enemy… only to be told that Gertrude had died three years ago, and probably not even because of her involvement with The Dark, and that everything that happened might have been (partially) unrelated to Gertrude’s actions.

The episode felt like a kind of respite, ironically, after the build-up of MAG141/MAG142: instead of action-packed and threats and danger and dread, we got a few answers, and more questions. Elements tied in, and some things remained mysterious – but also highlighted.

- I’m…………… so mad……………… Jonny…………………………

So, with Manuela’s mention that:

(MAG143) MANUELA: Instead, we began the search for his successor, a new host for his… continuation. He would regain his strength, and we would plan our next move. It was difficult, though. The approaching culmination had meant Maxwell had not prepared another host, and the search for another vessel was… long and involved. Finally, about eighteen months ago, we found one: a child, whose father had, by coincidence, been directly marked by The Dark.

So, “Callum Brodie”, who got kidnapped by the cultists in February 2017; Elias tipped the police to their location, and the police officers interrupted the ceremony which should have allowed Maxwell Rayner to body-hop:

(MAG073) ARCHIVIST: You said it started with a kidnapping case? BASIRA: Yeah. Callum Brodie. Twelve… twelve years old. Disappeared from his home in Dalston three weeks ago. Sitter was asleep when the mother came home, the front door was open, there was no sign of him. There was no forced entry so it started out as a missing persons case, but they got a witness claiming he’d seen three unknown figures entering the Brodies’ home that night, so it was kicked up to Serious Crime.

Twelve years old in early 2017, only his mother mentioned, and a father who had been touched by The Dark.

(MAG052) ARCHIVIST: […] Martin hasn’t had much luck tracking down Mr. Brown himself. According to [Caroline Brodie], his ex-wife, she left him in 2004, after his dismissal from the prison service pushed him further into alcoholism, and he became abusive. She said she got a single letter from him in 2009, asking for reconciliation, but she never replied. Martin says the letter was postmarked from Waterford in Ireland. But he’s been unable to track Mr. Brown any further.

……………… :))))

So Callum’s father was probably Phillip Brown, the statement-giver from MAG052 (the… utterly awful prison guard, who was fascinated by Robert Montauk and described his last months at the prison, including Rayner’s visit), and Caroline left him when she was pregnant or had very recently given birth. I hate.

- A bit curious about what made it so hard to find a new body for Maxwell Rayner…? What were the prerequisites, since Manuela admitted that the fact his father had been touched by The Dark was a “coincidence”…? What are the things making a body Fit for body-hopping into…?

- In the list of things I’m happy (and sad) about: we finally got… a few things about Julia’s mother, and what pushed Robert Montauk to do what he did é_è

(MAG143) MANUELA: I was but newly joined when [Lynette] fled the Church, and Maxwell had her silenced. But I remember her brute of a husband. He fed the beast for us, you know, when first he believed [Lynette] might still be saved. Then, later, we faithful served as his fuel to banish it. But, not for long.

So, Julia’s mother disappeared because she tried to escape (that’s true cultist logic ;;), and Robert initially worked for Rayner, thinking he could save her (hence why he was receiving calls from Rayner for his next missions), before eventually turning against them when he realised there was no hope (hence why his last victim was specifically a cultist). It… even explains why no bodies were found, actually, if he was “feeding” them to the Beast (literally or in a spooky way):

(MAG012, Julia Montauk) “The one question they kept asking me over and over during the investigation into my father was whether I knew where the rest of the bodies were. I told them the truth, that I had no idea. They claimed they wanted to confirm the identities of the victims, which they couldn’t easily do with what was left.”

[…] ARCHIVIST: In addition to the body of one Christopher Lorne, 40 preserved hearts were recovered from Robert Montauk’s shed. […] Of possible significance also is the fact that the rest of the bodies were never found.

I wonder, were the forty hearts all taken from cultists? Or from other victims? Were the pictures he was taking only from innocent victims, or from cultists…?

Also, Jon finally got answers to some of his veerrry old interrogations:

(MAG052) ARCHIVIST: […] So what is this thing that seems to have stalked Robert Montauk through so much of his life? And what’s its connection to Rayner? Were they summoning it, containing it, worshipping it? Whatever the case, it seems as though Montauk earned its anger. I feel it might be worthwhile getting a few more torches for the Archive.

- But mostly, I’m deliriously happy that “Montauk” ascended to a Dark-killing family brand name:

(MAG143) MANUELA: [Vardan Darvish] had an inkling, I thought, but he crossed a Montauk, which has… traditionally gone poorly for us.

Good job Julia, you did AMAZING sweetie (MAG109), and I’m even more glad for her since… The Dark took both of her parents… ;;

- Sssooo…

(MAG143) MANUELA: To begin our seven-day feast, we slew the still and lightless beast, and drank of its stagnant blood, submerging the first of the sacrifices in the brackish water it had blessed with its stillness. Maxwell plunged its claws into his chest, freeing the darkness within him, and we waited; and we sang; and we exalted in divine stillness.

… was the brackish water actually the beast’s blood all along? (Though it seems to be the essence of The Dark overall: Halley had been drowned in it, and “Rayner” in himself is mostly liquid, as he tried to take possession of Callum through it, and was shot and killed when it was out.)

I’m !! that it turns out that… the cultists themselves killed the Beast. I wasn’t expecting that. Though it’s probably meant to come back by itself, as Robert Montauk showed:

(MAG052, Philip Brown) “I was tense, ready to fight off Montauk if he decided to make a move, but instead, a soft voice came from out of the darkness. I didn’t recognise it, but I thought it sounded like it came from the old man, and I don’t think he was talking to me. [STATIC] “You didn’t think you could kill it for long, did you?” That’s what it said. […] I could once again see Montauk and the old man sat there, motionless. It didn’t seem like they’d moved an inch, though as I went to take Montauk back to his cell, I noticed that he was crying. I didn’t mention it. I’ll be honest, I was kind of freaked out by the whole thing.”

(MAG143) MANUELA: He fed the beast for us, you know, when first he believed [Lynette] might still be saved. Then, later, we faithful served as his fuel to banish it. But, not for long. That’s the thing about Darkness, isn’t it? You try your hardest to eradicate, flood your surroundings with light, but it’s always there at the edges – waiting for the glow to weaken, to return and cover you forever. Robert Montauk discovered that the hard way. And someday, so will your Gertrude.

So yep, it will… come back one day, probably.

(- Fun stupid facts! MAG052, describing Robert Montauk’s death… had been interrupted by Basira delivering a tape to Jon. So we had a small meta connection between her and The Dark, AND with The Eye, since the tape she delivered was labelled “Alexandria” and was one of the rare Beholding statements, that Jon listened to in MAG053, about the old Serapeum, which might have been a proto-Archive.)

- Manuela had some Drive too, in her reverence and grandiloquence, but I was mostly Conceal Don’t Feel / “DON’T YOU DARE TELL HER” all through her statement because. She was assuming that Gertrude was still alive and coming for her. And aouch, might have been Harsh to learn that no, these two randos are not here on behalf of Gertrude, but have been scrambling through things for the past two years and a half after she was killed.

- It’s interesting (and also very funny.) how The Dark is simultaneously… very threatening, and not that much. Manuela was incredibly scary in her statement, in MAG135, mostly because of the concept of her “fear battery”? The way they proceeded with Julia’s mom was really… heart-wrenching (you can’t leave and stay alive for long)? They killed so many people for their ritual, just like The Stranger?

(MAG143) MANUELA: We had hundreds of sacrifices prepared and ready, plunged into darkness and terror for days on end. […] I began to drown the sacrifices. Too soon, perhaps. But it worked, to keep it going, and keep it together.

… but at the same time.

(MAG143) MANUELA: Maxwell had always had the visions, the drive. Whatever was inside him pulled him to this end, to this great undertaking, like a magnet, and I was so very honoured to be his right hand…! Natalie and the others followed, but they did not truly understand. […] BASIRA: You said the Dark Sun was still here. MANUELA: [SNORT] Fine. If you’re so keen to take everything, undo the work of centuries… it’s just through that door. [FOOTSTEPS] BASIRA: Jon? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [STATIC:] How dangerous is it? MANUELA: Only myself, Maxwell and Natalie could even look upon it. It will annihilate you both in an instant.

We know that Manuela had joined the cult around the time Julia’s mother tried to escape it (“I was but newly joined when [Lynette] fled the Church, and Maxwell had her silenced.”), and we know that Robert Montauk was active for five years before being arrested in 1995, which means that Manuela met Rayner around or shortly before 1990. So, she has been in the cult for more than 25 years at this point. Meanwhile, she was looking down on Natalie, who was still Amongst The Big Ones, and we know from MAG025 that Natalie:

(MAG025, Mark Bilham) “That changed last October, when Natalie’s mum died. I don’t know how it happened, exactly. Heart failure, I think. It was sudden, I know that much, and it hit her hard. I mean, obviously it did, it was her mum, but I think… I think she lost her faith. […] That month was sad, but it’s not what Kathy wanted us to talk to you about. No, it was what happened afterwards. It was after Natalie found her new Church. It was Kathy who told me about it. This must have been about two months after Natalie’s mum died. I must have asked how she was doing, if she was feeling any better. Kathy said that, yeah she was. Apparently, she’d found a new congregation and seemed to be getting some comfort there.”

… had joined the cult in December 2014. Three months before the ritual. HOW do you take them super-seriously when you learn that one of their highest-ranking people had JUST joined the cult and was just very enthusiastic and also dramatically off-the-mark about what was happening.

(- Yes, I’m saying this, fully aware that shit, Jon has been Head Archivist for less than three years (… and even less if you take his coma into account), is already The Archivist, is deep in spooks… while Gertrude had been active for around fifty years, and at least aware of rituals for forty years, as she mentioned in MAG137 about The Slaughter. It’s not about time, it’s about… willingness and compatibility? And Jon went in very deep, very fast.

But if Natalie was able to look at the Dark Sun in merely three months… we’re a bit lucky that she died during the Section 31 operation, before she could have ascended to more?)

(And also: nicknaming your Fear god “Mr. Pitch” is such an hilarious move, come on:

(MAG025, Mark Bilham) “[Natalie] said that it wasn't long until they were collected by Mr. Pitch. She said that Kathy could come too, if she liked. She could be saved.”

(MAG135) ELIAS: I have been observing a recent increase in people and supplies being moved to the small town of Ny-Ålesund, in Svalbard. An increase which I believe may be linked to a rather desperate attempt, by the People’s Church of the Divine Host, to perform a crude ritual of their own. To bring their… “Mr. Pitch”… into the world.

(MAG143) MANUELA: Natalie and the others followed, but they did not truly understand. Not truly, with their talk of “peace” and “unity” and “Mr. Pitch”. A friendly name, to try and hide from a concept they couldn’t grasp.

Natalie, please.)

- Interesting word choice from Manuela here:

(MAG143) MANUELA: And here I have remained. Perhaps I have told myself that I am preparing, gathering my own strength and making my plans to continue the Church in his name. But I think in my heart, I have been waiting for this moment. For the final axe to fall, and finish the last remnant of our holy crusade. And here, at last, you are.

Because literal crusades may have been used in the past as a pretext to attack the old Serapeum in Alexandria, according to MAG053? And on that note:

(MAG143) MANUELA: Our congregation in Alaska disappeared the next day, and Russia as well. One by one, it seemed our scattered Whisperers Of Night were falling, and holding it together, keeping the lightless world anchored to our star, bringing it closer… was becoming an almost unbearable strain on Maxwell.

(MAG053) GERTRUDE: And there’s even one, unnamed contemporary historian, that describes the mob attacking the Serapeum not as Christians, but using a phrase which roughly translates as: “Those who sing the night”.

I think “Whisperers Of Night” might be a different translation for the same original term as “Those who sing the night”, like “Circus of the Other” and “Another Circus”? =D If so, nice touch!

- One of my Biggest Questions regarding the Magnus verse has been around Gertrude’s time of death – pet-theory of mine being that she might have… not actually died when ~blood was found in her office~ and that she went off the radar for a while before Elias caught up to her.

We got a few more details in the chronology, and characters insisted to put her death around the time of the failed ritual, so in March 2015… while we know it can’t have been The True Story because Gertrude recorded a statement in April. Chronology-wise:

* March 11th 2015: Mark Bilham managed to escape the ceremony happening in the Hither Green Dissenters Chapel, reported Natalie Ennis’s disappearance to the police when they arrived. (MAG025)

* March 14th 2015: “Antonio Blake” (Oliver Banks) gave his statement to Gertrude, explaining that she should die soon – he saw this “the night before last” (so the night from 12th to 13th March) and there is around ten days before it should happen, which would predict her death for around March 22nd / March 23rd 2015. (MAG011)

* March 15th 2015: according to Elias, when he went to the Archives, “Gertrude wasn’t there, but her desk was covered in blood. […] The police tested the blood and confirmed the DNA matched to Gertrude, though I don’t know why they had her on file. They judged there to be almost a gallon of blood spilled, far more than the human body can lose and survive so, I assumed she was dead”. (MAG040)

* March 16th 2015: “four days before the eclipse was due”, Maxwell Rayner felt a “disruption” (given by the collapse of the ritual at Hither Green); the different cells of The Dark began to disappear. (MAG143)

* March 20th 2015: a total solar eclipse happened in Ny-Ålesund and, according to Manuela Dominguez, should have marked the culmination of The Dark’s ritual. Basira hadn’t given the date but had already highlighted that it might be linked to Edmond Halley and John Flamsteed and Halley’s comet. (MAG108, MAG143)

* April 4th 2015: Gertrude records a written statement about The Stranger, mentions that she’s not in a good shape (“I had hoped I’d have a chance to recover. I can still barely stand.”), though, in context, it could be due to her theft of the gorilla skin from the Stranger gang… or because she purposely injured herself and lost too much blood recently. At least, still alive and kicking when she doubly shouldn’t be – both according to Oliver’s prediction and to Elias’s declaration. (MAG087)

* May 15th 2015: a scream is heard at the Hither Green Chapel, but the police find nothing. Jon is absolutely clear on the date (“About a month after this statement [April 19th 2015] was given, on May 15th 2015”) and points out that “according to the official file, May 15th 2015 was the day Gertrude Robinson, my predecessor, passed away.” (MAG025)

… And I realised, thanks to this post, that. Actually, March 22nd 2015, which was the day Evan Lukas died “from heart failure” (MAG013: “Congenital, they said. Some problem with his heart. Always been there, but never diagnosed. No warning. One in a million chance.”)… was the day Gertrude was supposed to die.

I have no clue re: what happened to derail The Dark’s ritual – I don’t think that it simply failed because twist, no ritual can ever successfully be carried to completion, since that would lower the stakes too much at this point in the series. But the way Manuela described it:

(MAG143) MANUELA: I… don’t know exactly when it all started to come undone. I think Maxwell first felt the ripples four days before the eclipse was due. [SIGH] It was strange… Like a pause in the hysterical whimpering and fruitless prayers of the sacrifices. And a ripple that was felt through the waters, and the stagnant blood that bound us. A disruption. We would later learn that this was the collapse of the ritual at Hither Green – but it was only the first. Our congregation in Alaska disappeared the next day, and Russia as well. One by one, it seemed our scattered Whisperers Of Night were falling […]. And then… it stopped. It just… stopped. All at once, that loving embrace was stripped from us, and it began to retreat, to recede back into the place that it had come from. We were so close…! … We were so close… […] We left, half of us dead, and the other half destroyed by coming so close to the true essence, [SIGH] and being denied. In my most wretched hours, I wonder… perhaps it was us…! Perhaps… we simply lacked faith. We weren’t worthy…! The world wasn’t worthy. But… no. We were ready. We had earned our Dark rapture. And we were robbed.

It feels, a bit, like a slow degradation, with cells dying one after the other, isolated from each other. I wonder if Evan Lukas (or the Lukases) were involved somehow, for that one…?

Anyway, this is still very much a Mystery so… we might get a clue another time. Maybe thanks to Adelard Dekker, in person or through an old letter?

- I’mmmmmmm thinking that we might get an answer re: Gertrude’s last activities / what happened specifically that made Elias kill her / what was happening between them… because the subject of Gertrude’s last activities and death had reemerged lately, with… some indecision from characters:

(MAG135) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I’ll keep digging. If there is another ritual upcoming, I’ll need all the information I can get on it. I can’t believe Gertrude didn’t have a plan for it. I hope I’m just being over-cautious, that it’s already long since dealt with, but… we’ll see.

(MAG139) ARCHIVIST: Statement ends. [INHALE] … Nice to see Gertrude [EXHALE] also used to get a lot of threats. So far it doesn’t seem that any went… desperately well. Except for Elias, of course. But he didn’t threaten, did he? He just… did it.

(MAG143) MANUELA: [HUFF] Coward. So, how did she do it? It’s been three years, waiting, guarding this place without hope. At least, do me the courtesy of telling me how she collapsed our moment of triumph. ARCHIVIST: You really don’t know, do you? MANUELA: Know what? ARCHIVIST: … Gertrude’s dead. She died right around the time of your ritual. MANUELA: Ha! So: stopping us took everything she had. BASIRA: You wish. She was murdered. Unrelated, as far as we can tell.

(Still hoping that Elias&Gertrude’s last interaction was recorded? We already heard gunshots in a few episodes, this one included, and we even got Leitner’s Extended Sounds Of Brutal Pipe Murder live. Wouldn’t be “too shocking”.)

- I’ll be laughing for months and months about the fact that:

(MAG143) BASIRA: [SIGH] So, what, this was another waste of time? What, no Church, no Dark Sun? … I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch…!

… Basira canonically called Elias a “son of a bitch”. Which. I mean. SUPER FAIR. But.

(A bit rude for Elias’s mother, Basira; I’m sure that, even if she was utterly awful, she wasn’t absolutely responsible for Elias’s… everything.)

- And a big “IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHH” for cop!Basira handling Manuela, leading the interrogation (telling Jon when to step in with his powers), and using Daisy’s weapons.

- Jon demonstrated multiple powers in this episode… but nothing was a True Novelty nor out of line compared to season 3 – except for the way he pressured Manuela into giving her statement.

* Actually, there were a few parallels with MAG096, and the way Daisy&him had caught and interrogated “Sarah”: Jon using compulsion, a few jokes thrown around, Daisy-or-Basira handling the physical aspect of it.

* Jon did casually admit to compelling random people… but he had already Done That in MAG107, when needing information:

(MAG107) ARCHIVIST: [SNIFF] [EXHALE] The… the hospital was… The hospital was interesting. It’s all very well being able to get people to answer your questions, but if they genuinely don’t remember something, it’s not always as useful as it seems.

(MAG143) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I don’t know. Everyone back at the research base seemed… pretty sure this place was empty. BASIRA: And you believe them? ARCHIVIST: They weren’t lying. BASIRA: Wait, you… did your sp–… ARCHIVIST: Oh, yeah, no, I, I don’t think they noticed. BASIRA: So they were serious. It’s been empty for… what, a year?

… Still not Super Great but at least… not new and, presumably, consequences-less apart from (lack of) ethics considerations. (MAG103 was worse in that regard and, hopefully, without much consequence for the person Jon had compelled.)

* Jon was also… not frantic during the interrogation? Basira was the one leading it, and Jon compelled when she prompted him too, like it had happened with Breekon:

(MAG143) BASIRA: Who are you? MANUELA: [GRUNTING] BASIRA: Jon? ARCHIVIST: [STATIC:] Who are you? [STATIC INCREASES, PRESSURING.] MANUELA: [PANTS] … Manuela. Manuela Dominguez. BASIRA: Where is everybody? MANUELA: [PANTS] Go to hell…! ARCHIVIST: [STATIC:] Answer her. MANUELA: They’re dead. Because of you. […] Fine. If you’re so keen to take everything, undo the work of centuries… it’s just through that door. [FOOTSTEPS] BASIRA: Jon? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [STATIC:] How dangerous is it? MANUELA: Only myself, Maxwell and Natalie could even look upon it. It will annihilate you both in an instant. ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] BASIRA: Ask her how we can destroy it.

(Which. Is indeed a useful ability to use against monsters/dangerous spooks but… still, Basira won’t be the one to hold Jon off on it. It works as long as they’re dealing with killers and dangerous people, if it’s about finding ways to prevent them from causing harm… but I’m a bit afraid that Basira indeed makes use of Jon’s abilities, and seems to be… so encouraging when it can serve her.)

* It’s honestly the pressure he now uses to “get” statements that makes my stomach twist (in a bad way)? It’s been three episodes in a row that the person clearly didn’t want to tell their story, and were forced to, and we got ample descriptions in MAG142 of how… deeply violating and shattering it was for the victim:

(MAG141) ARCHIVIST: Tell me what happened. [STATIC INCREASES] FLOYD: W–what…? What is this? ARCHIVIST: Whenever you’re ready. FLOYD: A–a–alright. [STATIC DECREASES] … Sure… [SILENCE] He… he–he w–was a good boss, you know? […] My last voyage with him was the one that killed him. [Four] years ago; I still have nightmares sometimes. Tried to escape it, but some things follow you no matter where you go. […] And I have tried, ever since then, to leave those memories behind me. […] BASIRA: And what? You thought the best way to find it was by… slurping it out of his brain? ARCHIVIST: He didn’t exactly seem inclined to volunteer the information.

(MAG142) WOMAN: […] and he says he wants my story. He says he needs to hear what happened to me. And I… I wanted to tell him to–to–to to go away, I–I wanted to–to to kick him, and run. But… I… [SHAKY DUMBFOUNDED EXHALE] I sit down. … And I start to tell him… everything. About the job, about the collapse, ab–about the hand… And more than I told you, even, and–and… as I do, it’s… it’s like I’m there again. Like I can feel it grab my ankle, a–a–a cold, dead hand, and I just…! I just can’t stop talking, like I cannot shut up…! MARTIN: A… [RESTRAINED EXHALE] Are you alright? WOMAN: No?! No, I’m not! Of course I’m not! It felt like… like I was throwing up all those feelings again, and I wanted to, to scream, but instead I just… sat, and calmly told him my life story, and he just watched me. His eyes, like… his eyes, like, we–were… drinking in every fragment of my misery. I can’t… It…

(MAG143) ARCHIVIST: I… [SIGH] [STATIC:] What happened? MANUELA: Don’t… don’t make me, please! ARCHIVIST: Tell me. [STATIC INCREASES, PRESSURING.] MANUELA: [PANTS] Fine! … Fine.

(That’s a double-standard: it feels Fictionally Satisfying when he does this to a serial killer, because uh, had it coming, you can bear some unpleasantness in your life, too. But… same as last week: I’m still too upset about MAG142, even if Jon feels bad about it in the future, or is called out on it… I’m still a bit reluctant at the idea of being sad for him over anything, now that I know he harmed MAG142’s woman so badly, and that it will be likely a permanent state of trauma for her…? Still not sure Jon can still work as a protagonist at all after that? Though this episode offered a nice balance for me: I didn’t feel like I was meant to Feel many things, but mostly think and observe; there was something a bit more mechanical, even when Jon mentioned that he thought he was going to die… probably because he was talking with Helen, who was also detached. But I’m curious to see how these things will be handled once Jon is back at the Archives, and now that both Martin&Basira know about it…)

- SURPRISE HELEN IS A SURPRISE AND !!! I’M LOVE HER…

(MAG143) HELEN: Go find your Basira. Then, let’s get you both home. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [CLICK.]

That “your Basira” was so… nice… dang……………

- Same thing as Jon forcing Dangerous Spooks to spill it all out: it feels kind of satisfying to have Helen… swallowing them in her corridors – they had it coming, and it means they won’t be hurting people anymore, and as long as it’s Spooks eating Spooks, they can do whatever between themselves, I’m not As Emotionally Invested And Sad/Upset as when innocent people get hurt :w

(MAG143) ARCHIVIST: … Did you catch her? HELEN: Yes. ARCHIVIST: [YELP] [SIGH] [BREATHING HARDER] HELEN: She needed a door. ARCHIVIST: H… h–how did you… HELEN: Oh, finding this place was easy without the Darkness. ARCHIVIST: Will… she be coming back? HELEN: … No. Uuuh… this one, I think I’ll keep.

(Is it because Helen is wlw and not into males at all, hence why she wasn’t keen on keeping Jared.)

Though: Helen was waaaay more instable in this episode than previously? She sounded carnivorous and playful, a bit like a cruel child, here, while she was… colder and a bit more detached back in MAG131 and MAG115. Is it also because she’s not in the tunnels? Or because she’s settling in as The Distortion and getting more… all over the place…? But still coherent so far – since Helen repeated that “I told you – I’ve decided to help” and is sticking to it? (How long will that last…?)

- Will Manuela and Jon still have the dreams, or will it be “cut” because Manuela is inside of/being digested by the Distortion now? According to MAG120, the door was closed and Jon wasn’t opening it in his dreams, so… (And if there are dreams: will they be pitch-black and absolutely useless.)

- So many doors in this episode…

(MAG143) MANUELA: [SNORT] Fine. If you’re so keen to take everything, undo the work of centuries… it’s just through that door. […] BASIRA: Look, it’s alright, Jon. No one else knows it’s here. And if we just leave it, no one will know. ARCHIVIST: No, I… I’m doing this. [INHALE] Get out. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: [BREATHING LOUDER AND MORE SHAKINGLY.] [UNSEALING A METALLIC DOOR; HEAVY DOOR SLOWLY SLIDING OPEN.] [CREAKING, SPARKLER-LIKE STATIC SATURATING THE RECORDING.] ARCHIVIST: It’s… beautiful… MANUELA: [DISTANT, PANTING] … No… NO!!! [STATIC SUDDENLY DISAPPEARS.] BASIRA: Jon! [BODY CRUMPLING ON THE GROUND?] ARCHIVIST: [PANTING] No, I–I’m, I’m okay… […] [DISTORTION SOUNDS, BRINGING CONSTANT STATIC] [A DOOR CREAKS OPEN] ARCHIVIST: … Did you catch her? HELEN: Yes. ARCHIVIST: [YELP] [SIGH] [BREATHING HARDER] HELEN: She needed a door. ARCHIVIST: H… h–how did you… […] I… Why are you here? HELEN: I told you – I’ve decided to help. I thought you might like a way home? ARCHIVIST: Another door? HELEN: If you want it. [PAUSE] … How was it? ARCHIVIST: Mm? HELEN: Looking upon The Dark. ARCHIVIST: I thought I was going to die. HELEN: You seem to think that a lot. I remember when you thought you were going to die at my threshold. ARCHIVIST: … Yeah.

And still: Jon’s overall Complicated Relationship with doors, I’ll have to update my liiiiist…

- I’m… honestly (pleasantly!) surprised that turns out that Basira… wasn’t keen, at all, on sacrificing Jon or allowing him to sacrifice himself:

(MAG143) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [STATIC:] How dangerous is it? MANUELA: Only myself, Maxwell and Natalie could even look upon it. It will annihilate you both in an instant. ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] BASIRA: Ask her how we can destroy it. ARCHIVIST: I know how. … I just need to see it. BASIRA: “See” as in…? ARCHIVIST: As in… actually see it. MANUELA: Go ahead. Just try. BASIRA: Look, it’s alright, Jon. No one else knows it’s here. And if we just leave it, no one will know. ARCHIVIST: No, I… I’m doing this. [INHALE] Get out.

Her spontaneous reaction was to try and discourage him from doing Something Dangerous And Potentially Deadly. So: she cares, she doesn’t… want him to die, even though she witnessed him grabbing Floyd and forcing him to tell his statement and condemning him to the nightmares that she herself used to be plagued with. Which means that… yeah, a lot of her dryness, of her cautiousness and calculation, has been… less sincere than she was pretending? That she tried to behave a certain way, while feeling another – that she still has sympathy for Jon and doesn’t think he would be better off dead, even though she knows that The Eye still has its chance ritual-wise, even though she saw that Jon’s powers have been all over the place since he woke up. She’s forcing herself to not trust him, or still doesn’t want to trust him for real… but she cares about him. And after MAG142, I’m not sure it’s… a good thing ;;

- And a bit ;wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww; for Dasira mood.

(MAG143) BASIRA: They just left it here? ARCHIVIST: I… maybe. [PAUSE] [SCOFFING] Kinda wish Daisy was here…! [FOOTSTEPS STOP.] … Basira? BASIRA: Yeah? [FOOSTEPS RESUME.] ARCHIVIST: … Sorry. [INHALE] I know this isn’t– BEHIND YOU!

Aouch, Jon. Accidentally very rude.

And I’m… surprised and stupidly hopeful that he did realise right away that he had crossed a line / wronged Basira / hurt her feelings? What the HELL happened with the live-statements from MAG141/MAG142, for Jon to… Listen, I can’t call Floyd and that woman “statement-givers” when the stories were forcefully grabbed and torn out from them, and Jon didn’t even seem to realise that he was hurting them so deeply – although he DID acknowledge that Floyd would get nightmares (but his “And I am sorry about that.” didn’t sound like he was sorry AT ALL).

There is still the mystery of what happened shortly before the trip because, really, season 4 had not been going in the direction of Jon getting desensitised to random people’s sufferings (and, for example, only caring about his assistants)? Like, at all? He was very detached about Gertrude’s methods and horrified about what had happened to Jan Kilbride (MAG130: “Even so, and… leaving aside the matter of Gertrude’s actions for a moment…” / MAG133: “So use me. Because if you go it alone, you are going to die. Even Gertrude worked with people. We make bad decisions when we don’t communicate…”), he was uncomfortable about the fact that he was aware that other people were still trapped in the coffin, although he hadn’t been the one to put them there (MAG135: “… Is locking it up the right thing to do? There are other people in there. And Daisy and I got out, but– … No, I, uh… I can’t think about that. Even if I could somehow be sure of recreating our escape, I–I can’t save everyone that’s been taken. I–It’s not my job to try, I– And I can’t spend another three days in there, I just… I need to let it go.”), he had mentioned to Daisy that he was ready to suffer as long as it meant not losing anyone (MAG136), doubting so much (MAG139)… and then he just. Switched? What happened, for him to suddenly sound much more mechanical…? As mentioned with previous episodes, was it due to his attempt at peeking through The Lonely…? Was it because the Institute/Archives have a sort of stabilising effect on him, and he was outside in all three cases…? Was it because Jon chose, very deliberately, to power up through live-statements in order to be ready for The Dark, and is… drunk with power right now?

- At the very least: Jon has sounded significantly… more detached? In MAG141/142. Still able to have various inflections, but there is something more… matter-of-fact than in previous episodes? A bit closer to how he sounded in season 1 – though more fast-paced? And sounding tired, but not in the same way as previously in season 4. Not exactly snappy but…

(MAG143) BASIRA: [SIGH] Eyes peeled. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … Was that a joke? BASIRA: Yeah. [SILENCE] Any clue where everyone is? […] Don’t move. [GRUNTS, PANTS. A SPIT.] ARCHIVIST: Oh! … Charming.

… dryer, instead of the previous softness? He was complaining about having so many doubts, in MAG139, and in the last few episodes, he’s been… going along with the flow without much hesitation. Not pleased but not startled nor hesitating. So what happened…

(- Still casually self-destructive/going for the potentially Lethal options, though, and Daisy had been spot-on when highlighting to Martin that he was “self-destructive” – something Jon had himself acknowledged without using the word, at the end of MAG136.

There might have been multiple feelings at play when he marched on to watch the Dark Sun: their goal was to neutralise The Dark/make sure they couldn’t succeed with their ritual, and taking it out seemed like the wisest option; curiosity/desire to see it; and… grabbing an occasion to die, if it were to happen. He did acknowledge that last one:

(MAG143) HELEN: … How was it? ARCHIVIST: Mm? HELEN: Looking upon The Dark. ARCHIVIST: I thought I was going to die. HELEN: You seem to think that a lot. I remember when you thought you were going to die at my threshold. ARCHIVIST: … Yeah.

And he accepted, right after, to go through Helen’s door again, which really doesn’t scream like the action of someone with Self-Preservation. And he was still afraid, if his breathing is any indication, although… quieter and less melancholic/shaking than when he had gone into the coffin.)

- Jon’s way of just. Going straight for the statement, in MAG141/MAG142, makes me think of a certain Beholding creature and:

(MAG053) GERTRUDE: My biggest concern right now is whatever creature Mr. Heller encountered down there. It was… 56 years ago. But if it’s still alive, I should be careful. What was it? A guardian of some sort or perhaps… perhaps it too was… once an Archivist.

(MAG092) ARCHIVIST: So it’s… it’s back to breadcrumbs, and statements, and risking my life talking to things that barely remember how to be human anymore? […] Am I… Elias, am I still human? ELIAS: Jon, what does human even mean? I mean, really? You still bleed, you can still die. And your will is still your own, mostly. That’s more than can be said for a lot of the “real” humans out there. … You’re worried about ending up like that thing, lurking in the dirt under the streets of Alexandria? Don’t be. Just do what you need to, and you’ll be fine. Understood?

I mean, YEAH, some things have changed a bit since then (… can Jon still die nowadays?), but. Still. He’s coming a bit closer to Creature Kept In Tunnels And Thirsty For People With Spooky Stories…

- Cough.

(MAG143) MANUELA: We had been worshipping in the deepest dark, and yet, when it crossed the sun, I felt it roll over us, like a cooling balm on a summer’s day, plunging us into a deep, black void, far more complete than I can ever convey with mere words. It was more than beautiful: it was divine…! And as we unveiled our new and absent sun, the sacrifices who remained screamed, and fell in holy agonies, and the world of endless night we had been promised began to pour in, shining out and all around us. […] ARCHIVIST: [BREATHING LOUDER AND MORE SHAKINGLY.] [UNSEALING A METALLIC DOOR; HEAVY DOOR SLOWLY SLIDING OPEN.] [CREAKING, SPARKLER-LIKE STATIC SATURATING THE RECORDING.] ARCHIVIST: It’s… beautiful… MANUELA: [DISTANT, PANTING] … No… NO!!! [STATIC SUDDENLY DISAPPEARS.]

So, for Jon, it was just “beautiful” – and not “divine”.

And he literally killed it with his eyes.

And there were a few mentions of the fact that the word “see” now has different meanings for Jon, in this episode:

(MAG143) ARCHIVIST: I never said we were. Just said I couldn’t see anybody. BASIRA: Oh, I thought you meant like… “See”–see. ARCHIVIST: Uh… no. BASIRA: We need to figure out proper terms for this st– [SLIDING NOISE] … What are you doing? […] Ask her how we can destroy it. ARCHIVIST: I know how. … I just need to see it. BASIRA: “See” as in…? ARCHIVIST: As in… actually see it.

So.

Squint.

Jon wasn’t able to tell that Helen had arrived, at first, which meant… he hadn’t seen her. And the shattering sounds when Manuela fled may have meant that they couldn’t see anything anymore (torches? Basira said there were no lightbulbs). And Jon was, or sounded hurt. And it didn’t feel like they knew where the others were.

(MAG143) ARCHIVIST: [PANTING] No, I–I’m, I’m okay… [SOUND OF GLASS SHATTERING.] ARCHIVIST: [SCREAM] BASIRA: Get down! [FOOTSTEPS RUNNING AWAY.] [TWO GUNSHOTS.] ARCHIVIST: [PANTING] Basira…?! BASIRA: I’m alright, just… just one second…! ARCHIVIST: Hum… BASIRA: Stay here. ARCHIVIST: Look, I’m okay, I can help…! [FOOTSTEPS LEAVING] [SILENCE ONLY COVERED BY THE MACHINERY SOUNDS, AND HIS PAINED GRUNTS AND LABOURED BREATHING.]

So. Did Jon just get a Dark scar and… killed his eyes while killing the sun…?

(I missed that but, apparently, Jonny recently mentioned he was working on disability representation, and it had been highlighted by a few persons that Jon-going-blind could easily feel like cheating because he has other powers to… compensate/replace his actual sight (the classic trop of the disabled superhero that isn’t actually disabled), but. The end of the episode was a bit confusing and leaving room for Jon or Basira (she came back really soon…) to… have actually messed up their eyes, and not having realised it yet because the whole place was still in the dark.

And what would happen, re: written statements, if Jon were to lose his eyesight? Would he still “feel” the statement anyway or… would he be unable to read them anymore, and thus forced to seek live-statements to feed the Eye and/or to rely on the assistants reading them – when he was on the run back in season 3, he barely read anything during two months, but Martin&Melanie did and Elias had pushed in that direction, so it might have been having an effect on him too…?)

- … What is next? What will happen, now that Jon&Basira are apparently meant to come back to the Archives right away?

* The fact that Elias had been Basira’s secret intel might come out of the bag pretty soon:

(MAG143) BASIRA: [SIGH] So, what, this was another waste of time? What, no Church, no Dark Sun? … I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch…! ARCHIVIST: No, I… [INHALE] I think it’s here. I, I can feel it, like a… a hole in my mind. […] MANUELA: That’s… I– … Then why are you here? Maxwell is dead. The ritual failed. What’s left? ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] A good question! [EXHALE] Basira? BASIRA: You said the Dark Sun was still here.

Either Basira is going to be Beautifully Enraged at Elias, either… yeah, it’s coming. And Basira got totally manipulated and used the whole way…………… (Another question being: has Jon been suspecting that Basira’s intel was Elias for a while, and had been hiding his suspicions to try to see what Elias was aiming at…?)

* Will Jon be allowed to visit Elias, now…? I mean. We had no mention at all that Jon had even asked to visit Elias – but Elias had made sure that Jon couldn’t visit him, because ~ he’s at a very delicate stage right now~ (MAG127), though since then… a few things have changed. (It’s still unlikely given her legal status, but I’m very curious about the possibility of Daisy having a one-on-one with him at some point…)

* There will be the matter of… Jon’s actions re: live-statements. Were the woman and Floyd the only cases, or are they other victims? How many? When did it begin? Why – was it pure instinct, or partially deliberate from Jon? And are the assistants supposed to manage him, and how…? If not Basira, who, in the Archives, will be able to tell Jon off, if he’s now casually hurting people? Martin was prompt to find excuses for him (even after he listened to this woman’s story! He had trouble putting the blame on Jon, and was still considering Jon’s feelings more than his victim’s!) and sounded ready to fly to Norway when he learned that Jon was on a dangerous mission. Daisy has a clear head about responsibility and regrets/remorse and hating the harm she did, but she also… heavily presented Jon as a victim in MAG142. Basira saw Jon forcing Floyd to tell his story, knowing the consequences, and still had the reflex to protect him a few days after. I’m a bit worried that none of them would be ready to truly… shackle Jon or confront him about MAG141/MAG142…? Although there is still Melanie who… will probably take none of his shit, if she hears about this.

(I’m legitimately curious about how she would react, were she to listen to MAG142’s tape. She doesn’t have the bullet anymore, so probably not going into a Slaughter rage, but… of all of the assistants, I think Melanie is likely to have the most Intense reaction if she learns about Jon’s current actions.)

* More live-statements means more dreams, and there is still the matter of MAG120’s tape: Elias was addressing Jon directly in that one, it was supposed to be a message, at least towards the end. Did Jon listen to it already? Will he find it soon? … Will we get another statement from Elias about Jon’s dreams, now that there are… more…? (Did Jon’s overall behaviour change in them? Is he still horrified or… not anymore/just plainly curious faced with people’s suffering…?)

* Re:Melanie, there is still the matter of her spending a lot of time away and being “quiet” since she began therapy. It could mean something awful (Web/Annabelle being the prime suspect)… but it also could be. Actual good therapy, working wonders for her.

* Rituals-wise: the status of Corruption is unclear, and we still don’t have anything about Vast (unless MAG141 was touching to it)… and as long as Martin hasn’t pooled his resources with the others, Jon can’t know that The End and The Web are presumably not in the run for a ritual, nor that The Lonely has already failed. So there are still researches to be done, for him, in those directions. (… Though maybe Martin could have told Daisy right after the end of MAG142’s recording…)

* I wonder if Daisy will tell Jon that she spoke with Martin, that Martin was worried about him…? That it’s still possible to talk to Martin…?

Title for MAG144 is out and is…………………… interesting……. If we hadn’t had the Coffin mini-arc so recently, I’d have said Buried, but it’s unlikely, so… The End, maybe? Something related to MAG065 and/or about technology and/or about tape recorders? Something about The Web’s intentions? Vast thing, and they’re digging Mike Crew out of his grave?? Lonely one and it’s actually about the graveyard/their failed ritual? I’m mostly considering Beholding stuff – Gertrude’s notes, Elias’s plans, the tunnels under the Institute and/or the thing in Alexandria and/or Schwarzwald, the specific book that Albrecht had first sent to Jonah, or a Jon first-person statement (à la MAG040 and MAG080) about the last three weeks? I don’t know but… it’s an interesting title.