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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

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“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 4: BLACK OR WHITE (Part 2)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Inside the lunch box, alongside the white rice, the colorful and well-balanced garnishes are well packaged. The boy thinks it's like being full of "happiness".

The boy loves it because it looks like the treasure chest with an unbalanced brown lunch that is filled with "special" items like meat and fried foods that are always blessed with recommended side dishes. However, he was impressed by the desperate lunch that Kuro prepared as a harmonious world.

From the lunch box, the boy takes a plump, beautiful yellow egg with chopsticks and puts it in his mouth. The sweetness spread through his mouth. He asked Kuro to do it yesterday, the rolled egg was delicious too, but the sweet flavored egg grill is good too.

While trying with a smile, he heard a clear voice next to him.

"Shiro has his own lunch with side dishes!"

Kukuri opened her eyes and looked towards the shrine that surrounded the lunch box with Kuro and Neko in the coffee shop. For whatever reason, he have two lunches on his hands.

He decided to advance through school with his own face, saying he was a "transfer student."

This school is located on an island, isolated from the outside, and basically he cannot enter the site without a pass. However, probably because they were relieved by safety, the people on the school island were enthusiastic about the safety aspect. Even the seemingly suspicious Kuro and Neko are accepted as "I'm a school person because I'm here with a natural face."

By the way, he managed to calm down Neko, who doesn't like clothes, and put her in the Ashinaka school girls uniform (when the boy praised Neko in uniform like "cute!) However, Kuro is still in his uniform. Also, even though he had a sword on his waist, the people around him naturally accepted Kuro's existence, probably because the boy was with him.

Kukuri looked at the contents of the boy's lunch box with a surprised look, and the boy put his hand on his cheek.

"This time it is my beloved wife's lunch."

"If you just say stupid things, I'll stick my tongue out at you."

Kuro draws his sword threatening to cut off the boy's tongue.

As for Neko, he has already eaten Kuro's lunch, and she looks at Kukuri's lunch and makes a voice that waits, "Are you hungry?" Kukuri opened the lunch box and asked, "Do you want to eat?" She opened the lunch box, but for some reason there was no main food, such as fried or roasted salmon, and various kinds of vegetable side dishes such as slow-cooked dishes, salads, and hot vegetables were packed in the lunch box. She wonders if she is on a diet.

Despite the interaction between Kukuri and Neko, the boy looks towards a PDA.

"Oh, what's up? It's different from the school's designated PDA."

Kukuri said, paying attention to the boy's PDA.

The boy's PDA has disappeared, therefore he borrows Kuro's. By the way, a handmade plush doll hangs from Kuro's PDA. When he told him that he thought it was a hobby that did not suit his face, it seems that it is a doll that he made himself, imitating the appearance of Miwa Ichigen, and from there he began to sigh the story of how wonderful Ichigen was. So sorry to ask. Frankly speaking, Kuro's emotion when he talks about "Ichigen" is very disgusting.

The boy squeezed Kuro's PDA and made another comment.

"It's from my wife."

"Do you really want to separate yourself from your tongue?"

Kuro draws his sword again threatening to cut off his tongue. He's not sure if he's unexpectedly good or if he's really mad, because he can't even pull a joke, but his reaction when he hit him is a bit funny.

After a little tantrum, Kuro regains his mind and turns to the boy looking at the PDA.

"Did you find out something?"

"No, it is an unclear image..."

What the boy sees on Kuro's PDA is that video of a person, who looks exactly like the boy, killing a person.

This was transferred from his classmate Mishina. He said he found this video on a website. With the curiosity and drive of a healthy high school boy, Mishina is good at watching erotic videos and images, avoiding the security restrictions placed on school-designated PDAs. Some of his classmates also have part of the videos that Mishina found. Yesterday, Mishina intercepted the boy in an uncrowded corridor and told him a secret story: "I found a bad video yesterday."

Although the boy does not have a young and perky sex drive like Mishina, he looks at Mishina's PDA with the feeling of "Well, if he wants to show it, I can't wait to see it." But, it was not an erotic video.

It is the video of a murder that was shown on a huge monitor in Shizume.

However, Mishina believed that this video was false. It seems to be treated like a naughty video even on the net. However, the criminal's face looked exactly like the boy, so he became interesting and came to show him.

Mishina laughed mockingly, saying, "If you did something wrong, should you be selfish?"

In fact, the boy cannot tell if it is a fake video. But if the person was actually killed and this was false, it would probably mean that the real criminal had redesigned the footage to replace himself with the boy. However, this video was taken by the murderer himself, and from what the video looks like, it appears that it was taken with a retro camera rather than a PDA. The video itself is also owned by "Homura", whose partner is the murdered person. Could the criminal have tampered with the video? If that is not possible, is it the crime of a person with the appearance of the boy? Is that possible?

The doubts have no end, but what the boy must do is not pursue the truth, but prove his innocence.

The boy never does. The boy who lives in the dormitory has rarely left Gakuenjima except to run errands these days.

The boy looks at the picture. It says "12.07 23:45". It's been a week. Of course, the boy does not remember leaving Gakuenjima at that time.

"Are you seeing it multiple times?"

Kukuri looks mysteriously at the boy's hands.

"Hmm, this is a mysterious video delivered by Mishina."

"Eh, Mishina-kun?"

Kukuri overreacted to Mishina's name. The cheeks are slightly tinted red. The boy suddenly remembered the incident that would save himself at Kukuri's appearance.

++++++++++

Fushimi snorted as he watched the scenes projected on the many monitors in the information room.

Each image in each location is displayed one after another on the monitor. Not only the city's surveillance cameras were collected and analyzed, but also all kinds of data such as personal camera images of PDAs and the content of private communications.

Knowledge of the system. As long as the system is up and running, there will be no privacy for the people of this country.

It was a system that prioritized investigations into people's human rights, which could be triggered by the special "Real Level" information disclosure request issued only in emergencies where an undetermined number of lives are in danger. Since the approval of the activation also requires the permission of the Prime Minister, the order of the "Golden King" Kokujoji Daikaku has also been obtained.

He doesn’t want to activate it to find a child.

Fushimi was alone in his heart and ironically distorted his mouth while looking at the private lives of strangers.

"It is quite a masterpiece."

"Help me if you have free time."

Awashima takes Fushimi's words as dislike without raising her eyebrows.

"I am not free."

Fushimi looks back at his desk and slides his finger over the keyboard.

On Fushimi's desk monitor, there was a video of the murder posted by "Homura." A bullet was fired into the roof of the Hirasaka building, in the Western District, at 11:45 p.m. on December 7.

Tatara Totsuka was not good for Fushimi. When he was in "Homura", even if he showed that he didn't like that Fushimi didn't get used to it, he didn't care and felt like he would stop him and see through the line that he really didn't want to step on. He saw it with his eyes. It was not good for those eyes.

He was a man of the opposite nature to Fushimi, and he always laughed with a face that everything he saw was funny.

"Totsuka-san, you are dead."

A whisper came from Fushimi's mouth.

Fushimi stared at the image of the man whose face was always smiling, falling on the concrete without force.

Suddenly something happened. Akiyama, who was doing the compilation work, called out to Awashima in a whispering voice, "Lieutenant Awashima!" The voice turned the eyes of everyone in the briefing room towards Akiyama.

There was a child on the monitor that Akiyama showed. The facial recognition matches the criminal boy that Fushimi just confirmed. Fushimi's expression also tightened slightly.

"Do you know where he is going?"

"Yes, please wait a moment."

Akiyama immediately responds to Awashima's question and runs his finger across the keyboard. Review the points on the web in chronological order. He was at the foot of a bridge where he is captured by Shizume's surveillance camera, an ordinary PDA camera trying to capture the confusion caused by "Homura's" people, and finally the boy.

A connecting bridge that spans from Tokyo Bay and leads to an artificial island. The boy goes over the bridge and enters the island. That was the last appearance of the boy found by "Yuishiki" (Wisdom).

Awashima looks at the map of the place where the boy was last seen.

"The Ashinaka school island?"

It is a gigantic school that is very independent and does not allow outsiders to enter easily, partly because the whole island is one site.

He hears Awashima mutter under her breath, saying it was troublesome.

++++++++++

Anna finally did.

Yata was running. Anger and fighting spirit burn the flames of the body. From that day on, he couldn't find a place to hit and was swirling in his stomach, turning Yata into a fiery bullet with the target he should be heading for now.

A motorcycle gets next to him and they run side by side, they seem to fly in the landscape around them. There was a huge body that he knew on the motorcycle.

"Yata-san! What's wrong?"

"Oh, Kamamoto! Very good, you are coming too!"

"Where you go?! What happened?!"

Yata looked down the road and told him to sharpen his eyes and growl.

"We're going to the school island."

"Gakuenjima? The school island in Tokyo Bay?"

"Just a moment ago, Anna's skill finally found out where it was!"

Kamamoto took a deep breath.

Anna is a member of the "Homura" clan, but has more power as a Strain than the power of fire. She has always been searching for the criminal's whereabouts with her sensitive ability.

It finally showed results.

Yata remembers the bar just before. Anna spread the map on the table and stared at the many red marbles rolling on it. Its responsiveness detects the criminal's signal, and the marbles move and gather towards a point on the map. Beneath the bright red marble is an artificial island in Tokyo Bay.

“Here.”, Anna's transparent voice said like a decree. The criminal is there.

Yata holds his hand tightly in his fist. That night, it was a hand holding a bloody body. This hand knows the cold body that fell on the rooftop in the middle of the night and the warmth of the blood that was spilled.

Yata gritted his back teeth tightly and said, "Kamamoto, take me." He put his hand on Kamamoto's shoulder and jumped into the back seat without slowing the skateboard propelled by his skill. At the same time, he kicked the skateboard and lift it to catch it in the air.

"Speed it up! I'm going to Gakuenjima to kill that damn guy!"

"Hey!"

Kamamoto twists the throttle grip to accelerate the motorcycle. Grasping Kamamoto's thick back, Yata puts his strength into his arm holding the skateboard.

"Wait, you fucking bastard!", he whispers into his mouth.

++++++++++

In the locker room, which was simply installed by pulling a curtain in the classroom, the boy dressed in a khaki kimono and looked at the borrowed PDA. The video plays on the PDA.

“The date shown in that video that was shown in the city was at 11:45 p.m. on December 7th. Given the distance between the school and the crime scene, it is not possible to move in an hour."

"And so..."

Kuro was also dressed in Japanese clothes. With a short sleeve and a hakama, the original long black hair hairstyle collected and the sword attached to the waist match, and it looks like a samurai.

The boy wears a yellow garment over a khaki kimono. It's a hand-sewn costume for a female student, but it's pretty cool.

"Yes. If it is proven that I was at school around 11:45 PM on the 7th, my alibi will be established."

"But you're in a single room. If you slept alone in the room, it wouldn't be an alibi."

Kuro turned his eyes to Neko. Neko also wears kimono. Although she was wearing it, she didn't seem to know how to wear the kimono, so he could see the white skin with the front wide open.

Neither the boy nor Kuro did not change their complexion because they got used to seeing Neko naked. Perhaps he couldn't see Neko playing with the obi in her hand, and when she approached him, he wrapped the obi around Neko's body with one hand as if he was gathering an old newspaper.

"I'm telling you! I don't accept this testimony as an alibi!"

"Kurosuke, you are stupid! Shiro has been with me since I met him! Wagahai's Shiro is a good Shiro!"

"Shut up. You're saying you don't trust me. If I find out you were responsible for this, don't worry. I'll be prepared."

The boy opened his mouth sweetly, looking at Kuro and Neko as if they were really like a dog and a cat.

"Well, it's my fault. That day was the day that preparations for the cultural festival were allowed at night, and as I recalled earlier, it was a day where there were many incidents."

"Incidents?"

The boy trusted the mysterious Kuro.

"So there must be someone who can prove that I was there too."

The boy used a bird hat to finish. A beard is also attached to the mouth.

"Hmm! How many times do you change your clothes while chatting!"

Feeling free to open the curtains on the simple wardrobe, Kukuri stuck her face inside.

"Oh, it looks good! Shiro-kun, you are a valuable person to look good like Ebisu-sama even if you are not fat at all."

The boy, Kuro, and Neko were forced to try on the costumes they would wear to the main event of the school festival. On the night of the school festival, they will wear these costumes, carry a sword and pull a horse to parade to the shrine behind the school.

The Ashinaka school school festival has a mysterious flavor, in part because it overlaps with the annual shrine festival.

Kukuri was in a good mood when she saw the three people wearing costumes, and while saying to Neko, "Wagahai-chan is a beautiful woman!" On the first day, Neko who hated wearing those clothes and had trouble with the boy's hands, was also happy to be told that she was a beautiful woman.

Well, the boy changed his expression.

He has been living at school almost normally for the past half day, but his life is involved. He has to ask someone to testify that he was at this school that day.

The boy saw Kukuri. The girl who started the confusion that night.

Yes, it started with a runaway boy who fell in love with her.

--- Testimony of the classmate, Sota Mishina.

Oh sure, it was around 11:45 PM on December 7th. There is no doubt that the preparations for the night of the school festival had just finished.

He climbed the stairs of the clock tower with the determination of a generation.

In progress…

#k #k project #k the first story #k novel

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Note

ooh also 4 for Bri and Reid because I love them

Friends! Romans! Countrymen! ARE YOU READY for some good shit?!?! I say this because this is my very first time writing Reid/Bri! I mean, they’ve been in the background a few times in drama club stuff, but I’ve never actually gotten to focus on them. Toby enables me, because xe loves me.

“Who’s Bri?” Reid’s girlfriend!

In today’s episode of prompts, you will get a glimpse into Reid’s post-graduation life! If you want to read more about what’s in store for him after Kiersey, you can check out this post. And even this one, too, if you’d like.

Here, you’ll see a Reid two years removed from graduation and a little down on his luck. You also finally get to see inside his brain. *Slaps hood of Reid Burke* This bad boy can fit so much mental illness in him.

From this list of sappy prompts, which I am still accepting and filling as we speak!

4. “Shut up and kiss me.”

two years after (reid's) graduation | may

Reid considers himself spectacularly efficient when it comes to fucking things up.

He knows this. Has always known it. He figures it’s a good thing to be self-aware, at least. He’s probably one of the more self-aware human beings to ever have a conscience, come to think of it, given the amount of time he spends policing his own every action. But still. There has to be some benefit in being so well aware of your own flaws that you can constantly predict your fuck-ups before they even happen. It’s like damage control when the damage hasn’t even set in.

Anyway. Reid knows he’s good at fucking up. But if there’s one thing he would really prefer not to fuck up, it’s Bri’s birthday.

Easier said than done.

When midnight strikes on the day she’s turning 24, he’s not even home, which is the first reason he feels guilty and useless. He’s at work, apron around his waist, tie done up too tight, sneaking glances at the clock across the room in between customers and refills. He wishes he had his phone on him, as the minute hand lines up with the second hand at the 12. He could at least text her. He could make up for the fact that he’s not there in person, to ring in the first moments of the day. But his phone is in the back, in his locker, because this is the best-paying place he works at, and he doesn’t want to risk his employment by getting caught with a phone by his manager. Or worse, a nosy customer, who will subsequently rat him out to his manager, and, well— yeah. Not to mention the fact that it’s usually so fast-paced in the bar that there’s no time to check your phone anyway.

The point is. He wishes he could text Bri. But he can’t. It’s probably for the best. She’s probably not even awake. It would actually be bad if she were awake. A healthy sleep schedule is something she deserves.

Actually, she deserves a lot. The entire world. A lot more than Reid has ever been able to give her, and there isn’t a day that goes by when his brain fails to remind him of that particular fuckup in his life thus far. But tonight, he shouldn’t think in huge terms. Tonight, he should just worry about her birthday.

Man, he wishes he were home in bed.

The strike of midnight, although it provides something to focus on, isn’t even the sign of his shift nearing an end, because the bar doesn’t close until 2:30, and the latter two and a half hours of work wind up passing by even more slowly than the beginning of his shift did. When he finally sees his last customer out, after last call, and he’s the only lonely, lingering person in the place— then, the end is in sight. He has closing chores ahead of him, but at least he doesn’t have to wait around to go home anymore.

It’s nothing that out of the ordinary, really, to be working this late. Between three jobs and sneaking in open mic nights between them any chance he can, he can’t remember the last time he had a night entirely off. Or a day, honestly, and tomorrow— or today, since it’s past midnight— isn’t any exception. He has the lunch shift at the street diner he works at, and the jury’s still out as to whether he’s going to bag his shift at the second bar he works at tomorrow night.

All of this is to say: he’s working a lot. Which is fine. Work means money, which means staying alive, especially with the New York cost of living he’s gotten used to since they moved here after graduation. It’s a necessary part of life. He just wishes life could stop, for one day, so he could do this right. So he could at least give her something, to make up for all the areas in life where he’s lacking. Where he’s an extremely underwhelming excuse for a future husband.

And, look— he did actually get her a present, so that’s not the issue here. It’s more the lack of time. It’s more the overwhelming sense that, despite her stability, despite the fact that she’s stuck with him for six years, he doesn’t deserve this patience, and that one day she might finally come to her senses and decide that she doesn’t feel like waiting around while he slums it in New York and tries to make it big, that she wants, like, a normal life, with a partner who makes a salary and a house or at least an apartment with more than one room and, like, basic predictability and success—

Ugh.

For now, for this very early morning, he won’t think about all of that, no matter how much it rings in his ears as he cleans up and closes the bar. For now, he just wants to make sure Bri has the most perfect morning possible. And to do that, he has a checklist.

Step one: finish work. He considers that done as he locks the front door of the bar, and steps out onto the street. It’s kind of breezy but not exactly cold out, since Bri’s birthday marks the last day of May, and summer is pretty much here. It’s not really busy outside on the street, but he’s not the only one out, either. Rule number one of New York City: you are literally never the only person out and about, no matter what time of day it is.

Step two: the bodega. It’s on his walk, open twenty-four hours, and he stops there so often at weird hours of the night after work shifts that he’s established a rapport with the cashier who works the red-eye shift. “Eyyyyyy,” he sings, as he swings through the door into the small, artificially lit space. “What’s up, Charlie? You working hard, or hardly working?”

Actually, it’s not so much a rapport. It’s more that he’s constantly the loudest customer who graces this place between the hours of midnight and four in the morning, and Charlie probably hates him, but still tolerates his presence. So.

He needs flour, half a dozen eggs, a tied-up bunch of yellow and white flowers, and rainbow sprinkles. He also slides three Red Bull onto Charlie’s till, and then grins across the counter to remark, “The necessities.”

Charlie grunts or maybe chuckles, and scans his stuff. “Right.”

Step three: get home and get to work.

It’s, like, six minutes on foot from work to the bodega, and then four more to the subway stop, and then the subway is a whole host of issues that land him back at the apartment building around 3:30 in the morning. Bri’s alarm goes off at 6:30 for work, and he figures he can intercept her for a proper birthday breakfast before she goes to the gallery. Given that he kills one of the Red Bull from the bodega while he’s in transit to get home, he is at least ninety percent confident that there’s no point in not pulling an all-nighter.

It’s fine. He’s not even tired. He has stuff to do, anyway.

The apartment is dark when he gets in, and he tries to make the smallest amount of noise, which, when you think about it, is kind of pointless because it’s only one room and any noise he makes could count as a disturbance, but— but— Bri isn’t a light enough sleeper to wake up at that kind of stuff. A fact he is grateful for. So he puts the bag of groceries down, gently, on the counter, and turns the light on over the sink while he loosens his tie. Or more like yanks it off. The uniform at that job is seriously not his style, but you take what you can get.

Across the room, where their bed is tucked up into the corner, Bri is asleep. Thank Christ. He would be concerned if she weren’t. While he gets out of his work clothes, he looks at her in bed— she’s peaceful, and looks comfortable, and he kind of wants for a second to just crawl into bed with her, but if he does that, he’ll never get anything done in time, and she’ll wake up to a normal old morning. With nothing special. On her birthday.

She doesn’t deserve that.

When he’s finished changing, it’s 3:41 Apple time. The morning is young. He sneaks a kiss to the top of her head and pulls the covers a little higher over her shoulders, then slides across the room in his socks, back to the kitchen side of the apartment.

Sure, he’s great at fuck-ups. But he’s not going to let this one be a bust.

It’s a quick three hours.

He blames executive dysfunction. Time passes too quickly when he’s on a crunch, literally every time. He starts with her card, which he bought a few days ago— writes it out, seals it into its envelope, and weighs it down with the corner of one of her vases, which he fills with water and puts the flowers in. It’s glass-blown, psychedelic colors; she made it in the glass studio junior year at Kiersey, and it followed them to New York.

With that done, he gets all his ingredients out for breakfast. He can’t start cooking at 4 in the morning, but he can get ready— a bowl out on the counter, their one good frying pan on the griddle, dry ingredients for pancakes measured out. He’s not the most versatile cook in the world, but he makes a mean Kraft Dinner, and this, too, he can do— birthday cake pancakes. With sprinkles. It’s Bri’s favorite breakfast.

He doesn’t know how it winds up being 6:30. He loses time, doing all of this and also nothing at all. He’s two and a half Red Bull deep, mixing up the actual pancake batter, when Bri’s alarm tone across the room pulls him out of his haze.

“Shit,” he hisses, and nearly knocks over his frying pan. It’s 6:30 already? The kitchen is a mess, and he’s been stuck in the distractible part of his brain for the better half of the past two hours, and now he looks like he’s made a huge mess, and—

The alarm stops going off, and he hears the mattress shift. He’s rinsing off the questionable spatula he’s been using to mix the batter in the sink when he hears her voice. “Babe?”

“Hey— hey, good morning.” He turns, and puts his back to the counter, like it’ll hide the actual disaster he’s created. “Happy birthday,” he adds. “Did you sleep okay?”

Bri is sitting up halfway in bed, and she doesn’t answer his question. “What are—” She yawns, and holds a hand to her mouth, which is really fucking cute, the way her eyes get all wrinkled up like this, and he just— loves her, and wishes he weren’t so useless, wishes he could give her the world. When she finishes her sentence, her voice is raspy. That’s cute, too. “What’re you doing over there?”

“I’m, uh.” And busted. He might as well own up to the mess. “Well, I realize now that it looks like a bomb went off in here, but don’t worry; I’ll fix it. I was just— well, breakfast. I’m making breakfast. But it’s not ready yet. It will be. Promise.” He lets all his breath out at once, then tries a grin. “But did you? Sleep okay?”

Again, she doesn’t answer the question. Instead, she swings her legs off the side of the bed, and gets up to walk across the room. He meets her halfway, as she’s combing back her hair, a blonde, wavy, bedhead-y and beautiful mess. She’s in pajama shorts and a tank top, and he may be sleep-deprived and totally useless, but he is the luckiest guy on this planet. “How long’ve you been up?” she asks.

He rests his hands, gently, on her waist, and looks down to meet her eyes, which are hazy with sleep but always so fucking pretty. “I… don’t know if you would love the answer to that question,” he replies, because she’d see right through him even if he wanted to lie about it.

She smiles, but it’s a sympathetic expression, like she can see the Red Bull coursing through his veins or some shit like that. “Answer anyway.”

“Um.” Okay, busted. For real this time. While she hooks her arms around his neck, he tries to gather an explanation. “Okay, so I may not have slept, but hear me out, okay? I wanted to make sure I had stuff in a row so that when you woke up, it’d all be good for you, since I know we kinda have, like, a limited window here, and I didn’t want you to just have to eat, like, peanut butter toast on your birthday, right? Like, that would suck, and also, I was already up because of work, and I had stuff to do anyway, so basically, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t sleep at all, but on the bright side, there is pancake batter ready for you, and I promise I’m gonna clean up all the cooking shit ASAP because I know it looks like a war zone in this kitchen right now—”

“Reid.”

He stops. Her voice is gentle, and she’s smiling— it’s not the pity smile anymore, but just a regular smile. She threads her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he breathes, almost instinctively. “Sorry. That was so much. You just woke up. Hi. I love you. Happy birthday. You look really hot right now.”

Bri laughs, and leans up, on tiptoe, until her forehead is right on his. “Reid,” she repeats, even more gently, and he lets out all his breath again, closes his eyes. “Take a deep breath.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He tries to do as she says. It’s really not hard to breathe; he just forgets that’s a necessary bodily task from time to time. No big whoop. “I promise I’ll clean it up. And I’ll make the pancakes, and— wait, shit!” The realization hits him all at once, and his stomach sinks. “Shit. Fuck. I don’t think we have whipped cream.”

“Whipped cream?” Bri asks, and she sort of laughs, like she’s confused, but this is very bad, because that’s a necessary part of any balanced pancake breakfast, right?

“Fuck,” he repeats, and then groans, bumping his forehead against hers lightly. “Fuck, babe; I’m so sorry. I knew I was forgetting something. I can go out, though. Maybe while you shower? I can get it on the corner—”

“Babe,” Bri says, and it occurs to him that he has once again forgotten to breathe. But when he meets her eyes again, she’s smiling, kind of laughing, and she shakes her head. “Shut up.”

“What?” He blinks. His glasses fog up a little, with how close their faces are, and he squints through them toward her. “I really will go out and get it. What are birthday pancakes without whipped—”

Bri slides her hands up to either side of his face, and she shakes her head again. “Just shut up and kiss me, okay?”

The pit leaves his stomach, and he stops in his tracks. “Oh,” he says, and then laughs, too. “Okay. I can do that.”

It’s a kiss that stops the racing in his brain, which it really always does; she just knows how to do that by existing. It becomes two, and then three, and when they pull apart, Reid can breathe normally again.

“You didn’t have to stay up all night because of me,” she tells him, voice still gentle, eyes still on him.

“I’m sorry,” he groans. “I didn’t really— I mean, I really didn’t want you to have a lame morning.”

“Well, that was very sweet of you,” she replies. Her eyes are catching the sunrise light that edges in through the window. He could get distracted by that. By her body. By every freckle on her face. He is, after all, easily distractible. “But,” Bri adds, “as long as my morning has you in it, I promise you, there’s nothing lame about it.”

He laughs, and kind of feels sheepish, like he might be blushing. “Okay.” He doesn’t deserve her, but he’ll take her at her word.

“C’mere.” She pulls him down for another kiss, and, yeah, this he can do. The apartment is way too small, and he is a human disaster, but she loves him anyway, for some reason he still can’t figure out, and he’ll never stop being grateful for that.

“Thank you,” she says, when they pause to breathe again. “I’m excited for pancakes.”

“I’ll make them good,” he assures her, and she laughs.

“I know you will,” she replies, and then smiles with half her mouth, so her one dimple shows, and that is fucking adorable. Holy Christ. He might be sleep-deprived, but if looks could kill… “But,” she adds, with that smirk still lingering, “not yet.”

“Not yet?” he echoes, and blames the sleep deprivation for how slow the realization is. “Right, yeah. Because you should shower, right? Get ready for work?”

“I think I have a distinct amount of time before I actually have to be ready for work,” she replies, and ohhhh. Oh. Okay.

This, too, he can do.

“I think I understand you,” he tries.

Bri winks. “You definitely understand me,” she says, and then grabs him by the hand and pulls him back toward their bed. “And plus, it’s my birthday.”

He almost makes a birthday suit joke, and then decides that puns are not an effective method of seduction today. Not that Bri really needs seducing. Right this second, anyway.

“I’m so honored,” he says, instead, and grins when she pushes him down to sit on the edge of the mattress. He holds her by the waist and waits, still smirking. “You mean to say you want me to be your present?”

“Something like that,” she replies, with a shrug, and then pushes him so he falls backwards, and he gets exactly three seconds to laugh at the ceiling before she’s kissing him and he gets to move on to something much, much better than rambling about his failures as a boyfriend in the middle of the kitchen.

Breakfast can wait.

#sappy prompts #breid #kiersey college #the insanely cool reid burke #ficlet #my writing #bri doesn't have a tag yet but #that's okay #mel writes

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camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

everything’s coming up roses [AU one shot. drake walker x camille montespan]

Warnings: NONE! NONE AT ALL! THIS IS SHEER FLUFFY GOODNESS!

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @ibldw-main @loveellamae @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @burnsoslow @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @notoriouscs @rainbowsinthestorm @pedudley @gardeningourmet

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

Drake ambled through the city streets looking for the right kind of flower shop. He wasn’t good at flowers; he didn’t know the best kinds or which ones survived better, but his sister had been on at him to do something nice for their mother. Bianca was feeling low at the moment and Savannah had tried everything to cheer her up but to no avail.

‘Please do something,’ she had begged Drake on the phone the night before. ‘I know you don’t live near us anymore but maybe send her a card or flowers. Anything.’

Drake settled on sending his mom flowers. Only now was he regretting this idea. He had no clue what to look for.

He found himself in the West Village on a tree lined street filled with independent bookshops and bakeries. His heart jumped; this looked promising. He took out his phone, went to maps and typed in ‘flower shop’, praying there would be one nearby. There had to be. This looked like an area with a flower shop.

One result came up and it was round the corner. Fantastic. Feeling like a good son, Drake walked quickly down the street towards the flower shop called Lily & Luna.

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

‘Hana, can you water the roses round the back please?’ Camille asked as she checked off her to-do list.

‘Sure thing, lovely!’ Hana said happily. She was always enthusiastic which made her a joy to work with. She rushed outside with the watering can.

‘And Max, we’re expecting an order of peonies today at 2pm, can you sign for it?’ Camille continued, looking up at the lanky man who was standing at the top of a ladder. The ladder was shaking precariously. Maxwell was trying to water the flower baskets that hung from the ceiling without falling to his tragic death.

‘Yup, will do boss!’ he called out. Camille abandoned her list to quickly move to the ladder so she could hold it in place for Maxwell. She couldn’t risk having Maxwell end up in A&E again.

The door opened and the tinkling sound of the bell trilled, announcing a customer. Keeping her hands on the ladder, Camille leaned around Maxwell’s legs to see who had just entered.

‘Be with you in a moment!’ she said.

The customer, who was just finishing scuffing his shoes on the doormat, turned around to look at her. Camille swallowed. The customer was the most handsomely rugged man she had ever seen in her life.

His dark hair was tousled, giving the impression that he had just rolled out of bed. He was as tall as the door and broad chested, with his denim shirt emphasising the vast expanse of chest and muscles that corded through his arms. He had kind eyes and that was what made Camille’s heart begin to beat just a little faster.

He blinked, his eyes roaming her face. ‘Hey there,’ he croaked.

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

It turned out that florists were beautiful. That was what Drake realised as soon as he saw her. She was half hidden by her colleague’s legs - her colleague looked like he was going to fall off the ladder at any moment - but her face had been in full view and Drake decided that florists were beautiful, just like the flowers they sold.

She tentatively left her colleague on the ladder and made her way across to Drake. ‘How can I help you today?’ she asked.

Drake’s throat was really dry. Really, really dry.

‘Uhhh… I need, uh, flowers,’ he said lamely. He cleared his throat. ‘Please.’

She smiled warmly. Drake felt his legs practically buckle. His eyes quickly studied her; she had a name tag that told him that her name was Camille. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a yellow silk scarf around her head. Her eyes were brown with gold flecks, like an owl; gorgeous eyes. She was wearing a denim dress and white espadrilles. Drake liked the denim dress because it matched his denim shirt.

‘Do you know what kind you’d like?’ she asked.

‘No idea,’ Drake admitted, smiling ruefully. ‘Can you help?’

Camille grinned and gestured for him to follow her around the shop. It was a small place with wooden walls painted duck egg blue. Flower baskets hung from the ceiling and on every surface stood pitchers of flowers. Roses, daisies, peonies, lilies, sunflowers. The space was a kaleidoscope of foliage. Above the counter hung a driftwood slab that had ‘Lily & Luna’ painted in curly handwriting.

‘Who are the flowers for?’ Camille asked.

‘My mom,’ Drake said, blushing. Camille grinned.

‘That’s really sweet,’ she said. ‘Is it her birthday?’

‘Nah, she’s just been feeling blue so I wanna do something for her,’ Drake told her. ‘Flowers might cheer her up, you know? She lives in Texas so she’s pretty far away.’

Camille’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked around at the vast array of flowers on display. Her eyes settled on a pitcher of sunflowers.

‘I always feel that sunflowers are the best flower to cheer someone up,’ she said softly. ‘They’re a happy colour and the way they are open to the world.. They are uplifting.’

Drake nodded. ‘Okay, can I send her sunflowers?’

Camille blinked. ‘You don’t want to look at other options?’

Drake shuffled on his feet and placed his hands awkwardly in his jean pockets. ‘Sunflowers were your gut instinct,’ he said. ‘And I trust your expert opinion.’

Camille looked down at the floor, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. Drake smiled now, watching her as she absentmindedly reached out to stroke a sunflower petal. Camille then looked up to smile at him.

‘Sunflowers it is,’ she said. ‘Now, do you want to write a card?’

‘Sure,’ Drake replied. He followed Camille to the counter where she brought out little cards and a pen. He looked down at the card and tried to think of something to write. Eventually, he settled on ‘Keep smelling the flowers. Drake x’

He handed Camille the notecard; their fingers brushed. The blush appeared on her cheeks again, much to Drake’s amusement, and he watched as she took out some brown paper and a yellow bow.

‘Shall we go for five?’ she asked.

‘Sounds good,’ Drake said. Camille selected five sunflowers and placed them together. She wrapped the brown paper around them.

‘Ooh, do you want to add some greenery?’ she suggested. ‘It will give the bouquet more body and fill out any spaces.’

Drake agreed to greenery. He also agreed to lavender stems because at this point, he was willing to say yes to everything Camille suggested. Soon, the arrangement was prepared and looking pretty.

‘Where are these being sent?’ Camille asked.

‘Walker Ranch, Applewood, Texas,’ Drake recited.

‘Great,’ Camille said. ‘We’ll get these delivered to your mom, they should arrive within 2-3 working days. If you can give me your contact number in case there are any issues, that would be great. How do you want to pay?’

It turned out buying flower arrangements was really expensive. As Drake paid an obscene amount of money while trying his best not to cry, he wished he had just stuck to sending his mom a card. But as Camille handed him her business card and gave him a bright smile, Drake knew he would spend all of the money in the world just so he could see her again.

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

When Drake left the shop, Maxwell let out a whistle. His eyes were wide like saucers as he looked down from the ladder at Camille.

‘He was fricking hot!’ he squealed. ‘Oh my God, he was so into you! Please tell me you’re gonna call him!’

Camille rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a customer who left his number for our records,’ she said seriously. ‘Not for me to pick him up!’

‘But he was gorgeous!’ Maxwell cried, climbing down from the ladder. ‘If you don’t, I will! I’ll take him out to dinner for steak! He looks like a guy who likes steak! And beer!’

‘Max, you don’t like beer,’ Camille said, smiling despite herself.

‘I’d like beer for him,’ Maxwell replied wistfully. He now had a faraway look on his face; Camille knew he was thinking about Drake’s muscles.

‘Back to work,’ she said briskly.

‘Uh, funsucker,’ Maxwell sighed. ‘I’ll go on a coffee run for us.’

‘You’re only going on a coffee run so you can catch up with him!’ Camille called out but Maxwell didn’t hear her as he bolted out of the shop.

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

‘Baby, my flowers are gorgeous!’ Bianca told Drake on the phone a few days later. ‘Stunning! They’ve made me smile so much. How sweet are you?’

‘It was nothing, mom..’ Drake mumbled, blushing at the praise.

‘Shhh, of course it is!’ Bianca said. ‘They’re taking pride of place on the dining table. Thank you, baby.’

Drake smiled. He liked making his mother happy. He should do it more often.

A thought formed in his mind. Maybe he could? He could send his mother flowers once a week! Sure, it would be expensive but when it made her happy, who cared? And he could go back to Lily & Luna again. He could see Camille again. She could become his official florist! Maybe his official girlfriend - no. No. Too far.

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

The following week, Drake took three subway rides and walked fifteen minutes to get to the flower shop. Yes. It was very much out of his way, especially since after a more extensive Google search back home, it turned out that there were four flower shops in Drake’s neighbourhood. But he didn’t want to go to those.

He entered the shop and was greeted by a gasp and the sound of a jug dropping to the floor. Drake moved further inside to find Camille’s colleague on his knees, hastily drying the wet floor. He was bright red.

‘Sorry, sorry, be with you in a second!’ he shrieked.

Drake shrugged and began to peruse the flowers. He was heavily aware of eyes on him; the florist on the floor was watching him.

‘Oh, hi Drake!’

Camille entered from the back room and joined Drake in front of a vase of peonies. ‘Didn’t expect to see you again. Is everything okay?’ she asked. ‘Your mom liked her flowers, right?’

‘Oh, she loved them!’ Drake reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not here to complain. I’m here to buy her some more flowers.’

The smile that spread on Camille’s face was enough to warm Drake’s heart. She clapped her hands excitedly. ‘Ooh amazing!’ she cried. ‘Okay, so sunflowers again?’

‘Actually, I was thinking something else,’ Drake said. ‘These are pretty, what are they?’

‘They’re peonies,’ Camille told him. ‘They’re gorgeous.’

‘I’d like to send my mom those,’ Drake told her. ‘With greenery added, of course.’ He said this with a wry smile.

Camille grinned and picked up five stems of peonies and some greenery. Drake followed her to the counter where she handed him a notecard for him to write a message. Drake noticed that her colleague was fussing near him, examining a vase of roses while inching closer to Drake.

‘She’s lucky to have a son who cares so much,’ Camille said softly. ‘I think it’s really sweet what you’re doing.’

Drake shrugged. ‘Just doing my duty, Camille.’

Camille’s cheeks turned pink when he said her name. Drake smirked and handed over his credit card to pay for the flowers to be delivered. ‘I’ll be back next week,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to turn this into a thing.’

Camille nodded. ‘See you next week then, Drake.’

Drake smiled, keeping his eyes on hers for a long moment before he gave her colleague a nod. He left the store feeling lighter.

‘DID YOU SEE HIS SMIRK?! GOOD LORD!’ Maxwell suddenly shouted, deafening Camille’s ear drums.

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

And so this continued for the next four weeks. Every week, Drake visited the flower shop and every week he bought flowers for his mother. He would chat to Camille while he was there, listening as she told him about her favourite flowers, enjoying the excitement in her voice. For fifteen minutes every week, they would get lost in talking, forgetting that they were meant to be professional. Drake loved listening to her. He loved watching her face light up and her hands move quickly as she spoke. She would skip from one flower to the next, telling him weird and wonderful facts about them. Drake could listen to her all day.

‘Sorry, I’m geeking out!’ she said to him. ‘I just love flowers.’

‘I think it’s cute,’ Drake told her. ‘I love how passionate you are.’

Camille heard Maxwell swoon from the back corner where he was watering shrubs. She smiled at Drake; they were standing close together, examining a vase filled with roses.

‘Roses are for couples, aren’t they?’ Drake asked her.

She frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say that… sure, traditionally, they are. But I’m sure your mom would love them.’

‘Have you ever been given roses?’ Drake suddenly asked. As soon as he asked her the question, he regretted it. Why had he asked her something personal?

Camille bit her lip. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been sent roses.’

She sounded quite sad about that. Drake wished he hadn’t said anything. He was about to respond when Camille clapped her hands and gestured for him to follow her to the other side of the shop. ‘Look at these lilies,’ she said quickly. ‘What do you think of these?’

The change in subject was abrupt. Drake went along with it but as he chose to send his mother lilies, his mind was still on the idea that Camille had never received roses before.

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

The next week, Drake went by the flower shop and looked in the window to see if Camille wasn’t there. He couldn’t see her, which was good for him, as he had a plan. He entered the shop to find her male colleague and a female colleague talking at the counter in hushed tones.

‘Oh, it’s you!’ the guy called. ‘I’ll get Camille, she’s just on her lunch break-’

‘Actually, I want to talk to you,’ Drake said quickly. He looked at the name tag on Camille’s colleague’s chest.

‘Maxwell,’ he said. ‘I’d like your help.’

Maxwell turned pink. His colleague was studying Drake curiously.

‘Camille hasn’t received roses before,’ Drake began. ‘Can I buy her some?’

Maxwell blinked. ‘Uhh, sure?’

‘You like Camille?’ the girl beside him asked. Her name tag said her name was Hana. She was smiling.

‘I, uh, do, yeah,’ Drake said awkwardly. ‘She’s been so nice to me and it broke my heart a little when she told me she had never gotten roses.’

‘Her ex boyfriends sucked, that’s why,’ Maxwell told him dryly. Hana elbowed him in the ribs.

‘Okay, what roses do you want to give her?’ she asked.

‘Beautiful ones,’ Drake said. ‘The best ones in the shop.’

Hana and Maxwell guided him to the roses in the corner of the room. White, pink, orange, red. Drake didn’t realise roses came in different colours. Who knew?!

‘So, which ones do you like?’ Hana asked him simply.

‘The red ones,’ Drake said, pointing to a full bouquet. ‘Red is the best colour, right?’

‘Oh my God, you’re such a marshmallow..’ Maxwell whispered. Drake chuckled, embarrassed, but he had to agree. He was a secret marshmallow. Hana picked out the red roses and took them to the counter.

‘Want to write a card?’ she asked.

Drake nodded and took the card she handed him. His heart was hammering in his chest and his throat was constricting; Camille made him feel things. She made him feel nervous. But in a good way.

He deliberated over what to write then settled on something simple.

For the girl who deserves a rose garden. Drake x

Maxwell took the card from him and quickly scanned the words; his eyes widened. Drake held out his credit card and paid for Camille’s flowers.

‘Make sure she gets them as soon as she’s off her lunch,’ Drake said. ‘I hope she likes them.’

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

‘OH MY GODDD!’ Maxwell and Hana screamed as soon as Drake left. They jumped up and down, pulling each other in for hugs. The noise disturbed Camille who had been enjoying peace and quiet outside.

‘Guys, shhhh!’ she scolded.

They whipped around to face her, their eyes wide with excitement. Camille stared at them. ‘What?’

Maxwell cleared his throat and pointed to a bouquet of red roses on the counter.

Camille sighed and reached out to pick up the roses. She was aware of Maxwell and Hana’s eyes fixed on her. She opened the notecard and her heart flipped.

‘He.. he bought me roses?’ she murmured.

‘YES!’ Maxwell shrieked. ‘He was just here! He came in, said he wanted to buy you the most beautiful ones, the best ones in the shop! Camille, please, marry him! MARRY HIM!’

Camille read the note once more, unable to stop the happy smile from spreading on her lips. She felt.. Peace. Joy. Hope.

She had loved seeing Drake every week. He put up with her constant geekiness about flowers; he listened to her; he made her laugh; he talked about his mother; he talked about Texas. He was funny and kind and interesting. He was thoughtful. He had bought her roses.

Camille went through the customer records to find Drake’s number. Leaving Maxwell and Hana, she stepped out of the front of the shop and dialled his number.

‘Hello?’

‘Thank you for the roses,’ she said softly. ‘They’re beautiful.’

He chuckled down the line. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never been given roses.’

‘Well, now I have,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’

There was a silence until Drake broke it. ‘Can I take you out to dinner tonight?’ he asked, his voice nervous.

Camille felt her heart skip and leap and dance.

‘I’d love that,’ she said.

‘What time do you finish work?’

‘6pm,’ she said.

She could feel Drake smiling down the phone. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said, unable to stop herself from smiling.

‘Maybe I’ll bring you some more roses,’ he teased. Camille let out a throaty laugh and shook her head.

‘One bouquet is enough!’

Drake chuckled. ‘No it’s not,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna give you a whole rose garden, remember?’

Camille blushed as red as her roses.

#drake walker #trr fanfic

36 notes · View notes

medleymisty · 5 years

Text

Eggshells

Is a short Seth story with no pics. Read or not as you wish. :)

I do have to warn for a bully using the f-word slur and a fight and also, as always with Seth, general trauma and mental health issues.

Eggshells

The eggs never cracked correctly, no matter what he did.

Seth checked the recipe for making the oil of egg. The author of the alchemy website had assumed that anyone reading her posts would already know how to separate the yolk from the egg white. She hadn’t written anything about what to do if little bits of the white kept getting into the yolk, if the crack was never a smooth line but always a jagged cut. His mother might know, but he didn’t want to talk to her.

The egg carton he’d stolen from the refrigerator was almost empty. He’d hit an egg on the edge of the blue glass bowl, the same way his mother did when she made scrambled eggs for breakfast, and there had been the tiny white bits, mixing with the yolk and making it all wrong. He’d glanced an egg off the hard surface of his desk, his only reward a sticky yellow and white mess that he’d tried to clean up with an old towel. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong, why it seemed so easy for everyone else, so easy that no one even bothered to explain it.

He picked up another egg. He considered all the ways to crack it, all the ways that might result in a cleanly broken shell and a perfect unbroken yolk. He tapped it against the side of the bowl. Gently. Lightly. He counted each tap, one two three four, and he remembered.

–

The grass by the road was tall and still. He counted the blades. One two three four.

Caitlyn walked along in front of him. She was carrying his flashlight. He watched it swing in time with her.

“So I figured Tabor Creek would be the best place to park. Couldn’t really just leave the car on the side of the road.”

She stopped and waited for him to catch up. The flashlight stopped swinging.

“Hey Seth, you okay?”

One foot in front of the other. Balanced on the white line. The line was safe. The line was sane. Outside the line was the factory and the fire, but inside the line was silence and stillness and peace.

“I’m fine.”

On either side of the white line the pavement was black and broken. If he misstepped, if he put a foot wrong, he would break. If he stayed on the white line he would cross the event horizon and he would keep going, but not Caitlyn and not the flashlight and not the fire. The fire would not reach him. He would keep going but no one would see and he would be a statue always perfect no cracks no breaks like the white line stay on the white line.

The line stopped.

–

His mother’s voice came from the living room.

“Seth? Seth, come on. It’s time to go. You know your father likes us to be there right at two.”

The egg smashed against the side of the bowl.

—

He put on his Math Olympics shirt because it smelled of her. He hadn’t washed it. He didn’t know if he would ever wash it.

Caitlyn had been in his room, in his closet. She’d picked out the Math Olympics shirt for him to wear, because they were going on an adventure and he needed proper adventure attire. He carefully placed his fingers on the hangers, on the shoulders of his shirts, on all the places where her fingers had been.

“Seth? What are you doing in there? Come on!”

He closed the closet door.

“Seth, seriously. Come on.”

His mother’s voice had that sort of sagging quality to it that he’d come to know in the last few years, like he was a steel ball weighing down the rubber sheet of her internal universe. She knew why he didn’t want to come, why he was being so slow. But she’d make him come anyway.

“You’ve got two minutes. I’ll be in the car.”

He stood in his room and waited to hear the click of the front door. He looked around one last time, at the closet where Caitlyn had gone through his clothes, at the side of the bed where he’d sat while she complained about his collection of khaki pants and his lack of proper shoes for an adventure, at the place under his bed where his flashlight used to be.

The front door closed. Seth stayed a few more moments, just until he heard the car start, and then he turned off the light and walked out. He locked the door behind him.

His mother looked at him as he got into the car, asked “That old thing?” He ignored her. She sighed and backed out of the driveway.

He looked out the window. It was raining. The telephone poles were dark brown and wet. He tapped his finger on the car door as the poles went by, one two three four, and he thought of her.

–

Inside Caitlyn’s car the air was stuffy and smelled faintly of cigarettes. He settled into the cracked vinyl passenger seat and pulled on the seatbelt. The metal buckle burned.

“Yeah, the air conditioning doesn’t work. But the tape player does! And that’s much more important, right?”

She threw the flashlight in the passenger side floorboard. It rolled against his foot as she pulled away from the curb.

“So what kind of music do you like? I only have like two tapes in here, but if you’re not into my mom’s old hair metal maybe we could get the radio to work.”

“I don’t know. I don’t really listen to music.”

“What? Seriously? Not even like, I don’t know, show tunes?”

“No, not even show tunes.”

The telephone poles were passing by but he did not see them, did not count them. He saw her.

–

His mother spoke.

“Maybe you could try talking to him this time. I know he’d like that.”

The windshield wipers scraped back and forth.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even know who I am.”

They came to a stop at a light. His mother flicked the left turn signal on. The ticking was out of time with the wipers. Tick tick wipe tick tick tick wipe tick tick wipe.

Seth stared at the white line on the side of the road. He imagined himself as part of it, staying straight, staying perfect. His mother sighed.

“He knows who you are. He was so excited about you. He taught you how to ride a bike. He taught you how to play chess. He had all these plans for you, said you were really special, that you’d do something great one day. He loves you, Seth.”

Seth wanted to say a lot of things. He wanted to say that if his father had really cared, he would have been more careful. He would have checked the valves. He wouldn’t have left one open. He wouldn’t have ruined Seth’s life.

He thought these things but he did not say them. There was no point in saying them. His mother had seen the bruises, had gotten the calls from school. She knew.

–

Seth walked along the sidewalk outside the school cafeteria. The concrete was white, silent. Cracked. He counted the tiny cracks, the little faults in the smooth line of time and space. One two three four.

The tip of a black shoe entered his line of vision and interrupted his reverie.

“Hey faggot. Heard you got yourself a girlfriend.”

Steven’s voice shattered the silence. Seth stared down at the black shoes on the white concrete, at all the cracks radiating outward from them. He imagined bits of the silence seeping through the cracks, sliding down through them into the ground, coming together to form a wide still pool.

“Gotta give it to you, she is pretty hot. I think I might fuck her myself. Not like she’s getting it from you, huh?”

In Seth’s mind the cracks grew and grew until the sidewalk opened up and the black shoes were swallowed down into the stillness.

“You can’t get it up for a girl. Does Caitlyn know that yet? Oh man, I can see it. You standing there with your limp dick in your hand, and she’s all oh Seth, is it me, am I ugly, am I not hot enough? Do you tell her, Seth? Do you tell her that she’s right, that she’s not hot enough?”

Seth looked down at the concrete, at the black shoes. He imagined Steven caught in the white pool, his eyes wide, his mouth open, no sound coming out, his black shoes kicking, while the silence poured into all his little cracks.

Steven moved forward. Seth watched as the shoes came down on the cracks. He wondered if Steven cared about his mother’s back.

“Go fuck yourself, Steven.” The words came out low and sharp.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. I like my idea of fucking your girl instead.”

Seth took a step back. The shoes took a step forward.

“So do you tell her the truth? Do you? Do you tell her your twisted little fantasy, faggot?”

Seth heard a flick followed by a hiss. He looked up. Steven passed the lighter back and forth, just inches from Seth’s face. He could feel its heat on his skin. He looked past it and met Steven’s eyes, the black pupils and the white sclera and in between them the blue irises. Deep in the pupils he could see the reflection of the flame.

Steven’s shoes were black and the concrete was white and the flame was red.

“Oh yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

Black. White. Black. White.

“You could get it up if she was on fire, couldn’t you?”

Red.

He slammed his fist into Steven’s solar plexus . Steven doubled over. The lighter fell to the sidewalk, the flame dead and gone. Seth grabbed Steven’s head, forced it down, brought his knee up hard. Something crunched.

Steven stumbled backwards. Blood gushed from his nose. Seth pushed him down and jumped on him and his arms were hate and his fists were vengeance and the concrete was red.

He brought his fists down again and again. The fire roared around him, white and orange and yellow and red, and his skin cracked and bubbled and turned black and fell away.

“All right, break it up! Break it up!”

Someone was yelling and there were arms around him and he was being dragged away from the flames.

“Seth!”

He stopped struggling. Caitlyn stood there on the sidewalk, next to the group of kids that had gathered around Steven.

Her eyes were blue and wide and he was red and he wanted to tell her he was okay, he had stood up for himself, but no words came and then he was being marched off to the principal’s office.

–

The light changed. The passenger door came up against him on the right as the car turned left. The signal stopped ticking. The white line disappeared.

His mother tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, in time with the wipers. One two one two. The silence between them was thin and fragile and he would not be the one to break it. He could not do it cleanly and calmly. He’d smash the memories against the dashboard, breaking them open and getting them everywhere, the yellow runny bits and the small sharp white bits, and his mother would cry and he’d have to clean up the mess he’d made.

He stared at the wet telephone poles and counted them as they went by. One two three four.

—

Sunset Valley Behavioral Health. The sign loomed up out of the rain, brick with large white metal letters.

He popped the buckle on his seatbelt and opened the car door. Rain fell on his back and he realized that he should not have worn the Math Olympics shirt, that her scent was disappearing, that soon he would have nothing left to remember her by, how she’d touched his hand, how she’d left fingerprints of fire on his elbow.

His mother did not say anything as they walked to the entrance. Her shoulders were hunched against the rain. He imagined the silence surrounding them, an oval shaped container in which they were being transmuted, changing from humans into statues, perfect and still.

The automatic doors hissed open and they passed through into the air conditioning. Goosebumps rose on his arms as the cool air met the wet spots on his shirt.

His mother went to the front desk. Seth did not follow her. He walked to the waiting area and sat in a hard plastic blue chair, next to a large potted fake plant. There was a poster about depression on the wall next to him. It showed a girl with a translucent skull, a diagram of her brain where her hair should be. He read about serotonin reuptake inhibitors, about lack of appetite and sex drive. He thought about Caitlyn, about the trail of fire her fingers had left, and he decided that he was okay, he didn’t need to worry about depression.

He heard his mother’s voice, a low weighted murmur as she talked to the receptionist. She signed a paper on a clipboard. He wondered if she saw it as writing her name in the book of the damned. She was alive and the people who had died in the fire weren’t, and that was a terrible burden to bear. He knew. They haunted his dreams at night, the flames and the ghosts.

He watched his mother turn towards him, the smile she’d worn for the receptionist fading. She walked over, sat in the chair next to him, and picked up a magazine from the table by her chair. The pages made a thin crackling sound as she flipped through them. Other people came in. Gusts of air and the chill of the rain followed them. A television murmured to itself, high up on the far wall. The phone rang. Someone was typing.

The magazine pages stopped crackling and were still. His mother gazed out into space. He wondered if she was remembering.

He imagined the silence around them growing, a tidal wave of silence that would swallow the behavioral health center, the cars parked outside, the medical offices across the street. The silence would grow and grow and grow, spreading outward through the whole town, and then it would reach the factory.

He remembered the factory, old and abandoned and falling down and burnt. There’d been a fence.

–

“You ever jumped a fence before?”

He looked up. The chain link fence was made of diamond shaped holes. Through the holes he saw the factory parking lot. Weeds grew from the cracks in the pavement.

“Seth? You there?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I mean, no. No, I haven’t jumped a fence before.”

“First time for everything. Just watch and do what I do.”

Caitlyn grabbed the fence, put her feet in the diamond shaped holes, and pulled herself up and over. The fence shuddered, clanged.

“There, see? Easy. Now you go.”

He reached up and took hold of the steel wire. Rust flaked off under his fingers. He kicked his feet into the diamonds and climbed.

He stopped when he reached the top. There was the grass, sharp and buzzing with insects, on one side. On the other was Caitlyn, the flashlight and the cracked pavement and the dark.

“Come on dude. What are you waiting for?”

He swung his left leg over and dropped down, hitting the pavement hard. She clapped him on the back. He could feel the print of her hand, each finger etched in fire.

“There you go. Good job, son.”

–

“Mrs. Morrigan?”

His mother put the magazine back on the table and stood up. Seth stood up with her. They stepped through the waiting room door and into his father’s world. The nurse spoke to his mother.

“He’s been doing really well lately.”

Seth turned away from the woman in the blue scrubs. He counted the heavy white doors as they passed.

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you two. Seth has certainly grown into a handsome young man.”

One two three four.

Twelve doors, and then the thirteenth one opened in front of them.

He did not look at the man who sat in the wood frame chair, back straight against the faded blue cushion. He looked at the far wall, searched for the newspaper clipping. It was there, where it always was. It was yellowed and wrinkled now.

The headline was printed in enormous block letters.

Esker Paint Factory Fire, Ten Workers Dead: Shift Foreman To Blame

He’d never understood why his father kept that article here in his room. Maybe it was to remind him of who he was? Maybe when he looked in the mirror and saw the scars he was confused and scared, and they showed him the article to explain what had happened to him. Or perhaps a fellow patient had lost a loved one in the fire and had put it here, so that his father would never know peace, would never be able to forget what he had done.

Or maybe it just hung there on the wall, forgotten and unnoticed, and his father never even knew it existed.

“Seth? Look at these pictures.”

He turned towards his mother’s voice. On the wall nearest the door there were six pictures, all scribbled in crayon. A little boy, with brown hair and green eyes and glasses, and a tall man, with the same brown hair but brown eyes. His father. And himself, when he was eight, before the fire.

His father had known him once. In the pictures, the little boy played chess, stood in front of a chemistry set with test tubes and beakers, knelt down to weed a plant in a garden.

“Seth.”

He couldn’t remember what it had sounded like before, the last time he’d heard his father say his name. Before the fire.

He spun around to face the man in the chair.

“Seth.”

The eyes held no recognition for him, no awareness that he existed. They were focused on the pictures. On the eight year old Seth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to take the old man by his shoulders and shake him. He wanted to shout “I am here, I am real, I am not eight years old, can’t you see me?”, but he did not. The silence, hermetically sealed and perfect, held him and his mother, held his father too, held them as they became statues, perfect as the silence was perfect, immortal, safe from time, safe from the fire. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds as they passed. One two, one two.

He jumped when his mother’s phone rang.

“Seth? Yes, he’s here. Just a second.”

She held the phone out to him. He thought she might be upset, that she might hiss at him to tell his friends to not call while they were visiting his father, but she looked more surprised at the idea of his having friends who would call him than anything else. He took the phone and slipped out to the hallway.

“Hello?”

“Hi! What’cha doin’?”

It was her. Caitlyn. He took a breath and realized that the scent of her was still on his shirt.

“Umm, well, we’re kind of visiting my father right now.”

“So you’re at the loony bin?”

“No. It’s Sunset Valley Behavioral Health.”

“Right. The loony bin. Well, we’re at Paul’s family’s house on the lake, me and Paul and Gina and Steven and everyone. You could come join us when you get out of the loony bin. If you promise to not set anything on fire.”

–

He dragged his finger along the concrete of the factory floor, traced diamond shapes into the dirt. There.

One two three four one two three four one two three four.

“So what time does your mother get off work?”

Caitlyn broke his concentration. He retraced the diamond he’d scuffed and answered her.

“Three. But she said she was going to do errands this afternoon and she’d be home around five or so.”

“Good. We’ve got some time then. Figure we’ll head towards the boiler room.”

“You know where it is?”

He’d thought that maybe exploring abandoned factories was a hobby for her, something that she did for fun, something that she’d wanted to share with him. An adventure that they could go on together. He’d thought that maybe she didn’t know the story, that she was innocent, and that was why she talked to him and took him on adventures.

He looked up from his dirt diamonds. She was looking at him.

“I read some old articles about the fire at the library. I know where it is.”

Valves opened. Valves closed. Atria filled, ventricles pumped.

Beat.

He stood up.

Dirt on his hands. Dirt on his Math Olympics shirt.

Dirt in his veins.

“You ready to move on now?”

He did not answer her. He stepped around her.

“Seth?”

She got up, brushed the dirt off her pants.

“Seth, listen to me.”

One foot in front of the other.

The flashlight swung around. Its light cut into him, cast his shadow on the floor.

“Seth!”

Pressure on his elbow. The dead had come for him.

“Listen! You are not your father!”

He stopped. She dropped his arm.

His elbow burned where she had grabbed him.

“You’re not, and I brought you here because you need to know that. You need to know.”

He turned.

She stood in the shadows, holding the flashlight. He could just make out her white shirt, the sweep of her throat, the outline of her lips.

“I thought you could have, I don’t know, closure or some shit.”

In the dim light her eyes looked black.

He gazed at her, took note of how thin her arms were, how fragile she was. How they were alone in the dark, miles from other people.

When he spoke his voice came out rough and full of dirt.

“I don’t need your help.”

He turned away from her.

“Damn it, Seth! I didn’t fucking bring you all the way out here for you to fucking run away!”

Something whistled past his ear. Light streamed across the floor. She had thrown the flashlight.

Concrete. Dirt. The corpse of a bird. A wall that he had no idea they were so close to.

The flashlight hit the wall and crashed to the floor. He heard the bulb break.

“Why the hell did you break the flashlight?”

–

“Hey Seth, you there?”

He thought of the pictures on the wall, drawn in crayon. He thought of his father, sitting alone in his chair, saying Seth’s name for the first time in years.

“Dude, you aren’t going crazy on me, are you? You aren’t catching anything from your old man, right? Don’t set the loony bin on fire or anything.”

He thought of his mother, hunched over in the rain.

“Seth, you bastard, talk to me.”

He thought of his attempts to make the oil of egg, of what he’d read about its abilities to heal burns. He remembered holding the eggs in his hand, hoping to break them just right, crack them perfectly, so that the yolk would be whole.

“Seth? Seth?!”

The phone smashed against the wall.

#original fiction #prose #short story #text #non-sims #misty the teal deer #cw: slur #cw: violence

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snow-pitch-grimm · 5 years

Text

A Perfect Match

Summary: In a world where those with magic are matched by fate, Baz and Simon are two idiots that can’t see what’s right in front of them.

Oh, and there’s a group of mages that’s not too happy about Natasha Pitch’s new leniency toward magical ‘infected’ creatures.

Creatures like Baz and Simon. (Someone help these poor boys)

Read part 1 here.

Chapter 2

BAZ

I wake up in an unfamiliar place. The colours were are a bit muted and the room seems a little titled.

The bed is too big.

It was unfamiliar but familiar too.

Somehow, I know it's a dream.

The door opens a young man walks into the room, half-dressed with only his pants on.

"Hey, Darling," he says leaning down, "You're finally up,"

"Simon?" I whisper, looking into his blue eyes.

(So blue)

(It's a dream)

He laughs softly.

"Yes, love?"

(It's a dream)

I wake up in my room. The moon is shining outside, and the wind is howling.

There's no Simon.

For some reason, I can't help but be disappointed.

"At least this time I knew it was a dream," I mumble to myself.

Usually, the dreams of Simon are less vivid and more convincing.

Huffing, I curl up under the covers again, this time hoping for a dreamless sleep.

SIMON

I wake up slowly, my eyes taking in my room.

White ceiling, baby blue walls, the light coming through the window, the bright yellow glow of my-

Wait-

Bright yellow.

Not white.

I sit up instantly and pick up the orb from my nightstand.

I'm not imagining it. It's glowing a bright yellow.

"Oh my god," I whisper, scrambling for my phone.

I quickly dial Penny's number and she picks up at the third ring.

"Hey, Simon. Why are you-"

"My orb's glowing colour," I say quickly

There's a pause.

"I'll be right there," she says

"Okay," I breathe out

The line goes silent.

I pick up my orb again, looking into its bright yellow light. The colour of the orb always symbolizes something important between the people in the match. Bright yellow could mean so many things.

Happiness. The sun. Sunflowers, A gentle love. A-

My door flies open and Penny bursts sin, looking exactly like the tornado she is.

"Hey," she says, plopping down beside me, "It's pretty,"

"Yeah," I whisper

She smiles and hugs me close. I clutch back at her with one arm, the orb still between us.

"Congratulations," she says

"Thanks," I say, as we pull away

"So," she says, "When do you think you'll start seeing the signs or is it the pull?"

I shrug, "Honestly, I don't even know,"

Years ago, the answer would have been simple. Mages had dreams.

But I'm not a full Mage anymore. Not since I had been infected by the dragon scale.

There are two options for those who become infected. The majority die quickly, the scales ripping them apart from the inside out.

But for a few like me, the scales take a different path, changing skin and growing wings.

I had talked with a dragon after changing. According to them, the dragons see 'signs' that showed them who their intended was. The signs can be anything from a small flower to a natural disaster. Eventually, there's a small 'oh' moment and everything just clicks into place.

"It is not a search child, more of an invisible hand giving you directions until you finally see,"

I had also talked to another infected, the only one I could find, and according to her, there is a thread that pulls you until you're you just know.

I still didn't know which one it was.

I hadn't even been sure that the orb would glow for me or if I was too much dragon, too little Mage.

When it had glowed white, I had nearly cried of happiness. It had been easy then, to completely open myself up to the prospect of a soulmate. But now, sitting here, with my orb shining like the sun I felt a sense of dread run through me.

Did the glowing orb mean that my match was a Mage? Or was it an indication. Would they still have dreams? What is it was another creature? What if-

"Simon," said Penny, putting a hand on my arm, "Simon!"

I shook my head, concentrating on her touch and trying to clear my thoughts.

"What are you thinking?" she asks softly

"I-I don't think I'm ready," I whisper, feeling just a little bit ashamed. I had bothered her so many times with theories about my match and now I couldn't even face the idea.

"Oh Simon," she says softly, pulling me into another hug, "You know that's okay. I'm not sure if you can do anything about the dragon scale part of it but you can at least close any contact that you have through the globe, yeah?"

I nod. Whether or not it was the way to find my soulmate, I definitely felt a connection to the orb. If the person on the other end was a Mage having dreams, I couldn't control what they could have already seen but I could certainly control what they saw in their dreams from now on.

"Do you want to do it now," she says

I nod again and she gives me a little space to hold the orb in front of me.

I close my eyes and think of an open door. Slowly and carefully, I imagine it being shut. As it's about to click shut I hesitate and decide to leave it open just a crack.

No need to completely leave my match in the dark.

I open my eyes and Penny's smiling at me.

"Done?"

"Yeah,"

She smiles, "I'm proud of you Simon,"

Grateful, I give her another hug. I know what she's talking about. Being the most powerful Mage to be born in centuries, I had always let others dictate what I was doing and how I was doing it, feeling a sense of obligation to the magical world around me.

Being infected had given me the chance to step back and take a deep breath.

And go to therapy.

So much therapy.

"Let's go get breakfast," says Penny, probably trying to distract me. It's usually a pretty good strategy until I'm ready to analyze whatever issue is going on in my head.

On cue, my stomach growls.

She grins an pulls me up, I let her lead me as we both head downstairs where my grandma is probably already sipping on her tea.

"Thanks, Penny," I whisper. Worlds will probably never be enough to convey how grateful I am for her but they mean something.

Especially when she smiles a full grin at me.

"Anytime Simon,"

BAZ

I wake up feeling refreshed and rested.

Until I remember the dream.

Damn it, I'm not supposed to be dreaming of Simon again. I'm supposed to be dreaming about my match.

Apparently my subconscious isn't getting the message. Or maybe my match just isn't ready for us to connect.

I sigh.

It's disappointing but not unusual. A lot of people like to wait until they've settled into their life before meeting their match.

Now I just have to get rid of the Simon dreams.

I sigh and get up to get myself ready.

After a quick shower, I'm feeling a lot better. The dream was probably just a one-off. I haven't dreamt too much about him since the Academy and I'm sure the dream was from thinking about him at the party.

Yes, that was probably it.

Downstairs in the kitchen, everyone except my mother is already there.

"Good Morning," I say, sliding into the seat reserved for me. We all had unofficial seats at the table. When I was young there had been only four. Mum at the head, father on her right, Daphne on her left. Mordelia had been born and another chair had been added beside Daphne's. Then two more and some years late, another one.

The twins sit together at Father's side and my brother sits beside Daphne. Mordelia's on my right.

"Happy Birthday, Baz," she says as I sit down, beaming smile.

Everyone else smiles at me echoing her birthday wishes.

"Where's Mum?" I ask after thanking them

"She had an early call from a council member," says Daphne, putting eggs on Collin's plate.

"Huh? What about?"

Father and Daphne look at each other with a grimace. I'm just about to ask them what's wrong when my mother walks in, the phone still pressed against her ear.

"And I'm done with this conversation. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to have breakfast with my family. You have yourself a nice day,"

She sits herself down into her chair and sighs.

"Everything okay, Mother?" asks Mordelia

Mum smiles at her, "Yes, Darling. Everything's fine. Just a disagreement about some recent changes in the match ceremonies,"

Mordelia nods and goes back to eating but I can't help but feel a little bit of guilt. There are many who are not happy with my mother allowing changed Mages like me to get an orb and many have accused her of changing the law just to favour me.

"I'm sorry mum," I tell her

"Don't worry darling," she says, "Now tell me, have any sweet dreams?"

I shake my head, "None yet,"

Father smiles, "No worries. That's quite normal. Not everyone is as lucky as us,"

Mum and Mother smile at him, their eyes saying more than their words ever could.

"Of course Father," I say, feeling a small warmth that I always feel after witnessing the strength of their bond.

The rest of the breakfast is spent talking amicably about school and the upcoming coven issues.

After breakfast is cleared, my family brings out presents for me.

They range from amusing (a small vampire figurine from Mordelia) to thoughtful (a signed copy of Great Expectations).

"Where did you get this," I ask, looking at it in awe, "And exactly how expensive was this?"

"Took some digging," says Father, "And you know we're blessed enough for money to not be a problem,"

I smile and get up to hug all three of my parents.

"Thank you so much," I tell my family, "All of you,"

"It's no problem, Honey," says Daphne, "Now, I believe you're spending the day with your friends,"

"Yes," I say, starting to clear my dishes.

"Don't forget the party tonight," says Father

"Of course," I say as I head out, any bad feelings from the morning already forgotten.

I really do love my family.

#tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fic #carry on fanfiction #snowbaz fanfiction

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macgyvermedical · 5 years

Text

1985 MacGyver “To Be a Man”

Here goes:

Shot down over soviet-controlled Afghanistan, a bullet wound in his shoulder, Mac finds himself rescued by a boy named Ahmed and his mother, Zia. Zia manages to stop the bleeding, for which Mac repays her by accidentally-on-purpose killing a man who has been abusing her. A day later however, they find the wound is infected, and as all three of them are now wanted, they can’t seek medical care. Zia decides that the only thing to do is cauterize the wound, which she does with a hot poker.

Fortunately, this is pretty straightforward from a medical angle, and will not be nearly as long as some of my recent reviews have been.

While there are several places the wound could be based on other glimpses of it throughout the episode, this is probably the most explicit screenshot of it.

I laid down in the same position and tried to pinpoint exactly where the bullet would have gone through, and here’s about where I came up with (somewhere in the red circle, drawn on both sides so you can see both the bone and muscle anatomy, but it was Mac’s right shoulder in the ep):

Depending on the angle, it might have gone through without hitting bone. If it had gone through the lower portion of the circle, however, it both ran the risk of going through bone and damaging some of the neurovascular (blood vessel and nerve) anatomy as well. Below on this picture of the artery (red), vein (blue) and nerve (yellow), I highlighted the same area as above in black:

Let’s assume Mac was exceptionally lucky and the shot went through in the perfect location to miss bone and maybe only nick one of the smaller arteries, making his wound potentially survivable if everything went well.

Initial Treatment:

The first medical issue addressed in the episode is bleeding. Due to the time that elapses between Mac getting shot and Zia putting pressure on his wound, I’m going to guess that the large subclavian artery in the pic above wasn’t affected. It’s still possible that a smaller one was, though, and that could have produced significant, if not immediately life threatening, bleeding.

Shoulders are tricky when it comes to controlling bleeding. The subclavian artery is pretty deep, and there’s a lot of bone and muscle between the artery and the outside, making it difficult to apply enough pressure to compress the artery and successfully stop the bleed.

Today, we have hemostatic dressings and x-stat that can help with this problem. Hemostatic dressings are dressings made of gauze soaked in a chemical called kaolin that can be used to control bleeding. Invented in 2012, kaolin-based dressings speed up the body’s natural clotting process. X-stat, invented in 2014, is essentially a large tampon applicator full of tiny sponges that expand when they touch blood, which can be injected into a wound to put pressure on the artery from the inside.

An earlier version of a hemostatic dressing, which was invented in 1984 and therefore would have been around during this episode, contained a chemical called zeolite. Unlike kaolin, zeolite products relied on a chemical reaction to clot the blood. This reaction released so much heat that it frequently caused second-degree burns, and therefore could only be used as a last resort.

At the time and place in the episode, pressure or a combination of pressure and packing the wound with clean, long-fiber cloth (which would help extend that pressure further into the wound) would have essentially been the only options. Zia chooses to go with direct pressure.

If I were doing this, I’d want Mac laying on his back on a hard surface like the floor. This would do 2 things. First, the hard surface gives me something to compress the artery against, and it also allows me to use my body weight to help with the compression. Second, if he’s lost enough blood to mess with his blood pressure, I want him laying down.

Zia has him sit up and presses a cloth against the wound. If this worked, it tells me he probably wasn’t bleeding all that badly... at least not externally.

Other Possibilities for this Injury:

I say externally for a reason. No one has mentioned an exit wound, and Zia doesn’t seem to pay any attention to one while she’s trying to stop the bleeding. Unfortunately, exit wounds and the bullets that produce them are kind of like toddlers: missing an exit wound does not mean “yay, one less wound to worry about!” it means “oh crap, where’s that bullet and what did it do??”

(This next paragraph is not at all my area of expertise and I got most of the info from internet research, so correct me if I’m wrong)

Assuming it’s not designed to shatter on impact, a fast bullet from a relatively modern rifle is going to have enough force to go through someone, even at a pretty significant distance. It would be unlikely that the bullet that hit Mac would be going slow enough to get stuck in him assuming a direct flight from the barrel to his shoulder. However, if the bullet ricocheted or passed through something before hitting Mac, it may have lost enough velocity to lodge in him.

Like I said, this is not a good thing. If the bullet has enough velocity to get into a person’s body, but not enough to make it through a bone (say, the scapula or a rib), it could bounce off in another direction, creating a second path of damage. It could even internally ricochet multiple times until it slowed enough to stop. None of this would be visible from the outside (though Mac would crump pretty quickly if this was the case).

The most dangerous situation in Mac’s case would be if the bullet hit the scapula or clavicle and bounced downward, going into the chest cavity. This would create a sucking chest wound (having put a hole in the chest wall) and possibly do damage to Mac’s lungs and other organs depending on how much velocity it had left.

Two things tell me this didn’t happen. First, Mac survives, in pretty good shape even, to the end of the episode. Second, in the scene where he gets shot, there is blood spatter visible on one of the glider’s poles behind the wound (though in this scene the wound does appear to be more of a graze on his outer shoulder??). But either way basically Zia just totally ignored the exit wound. nbd.

Cauterization:

It really doesn’t surprise me that Mac’s wound got infected. Gunshot wounds are essentially puncture wounds, and puncture wounds are exceptionally difficult to clean. Bullets also create a pocket of gas around themselves that push outward as they enter the body, creating a tunnel of damaged tissue that can be more susceptible to infection.

Cauterization would not have changed this, though. In fact, it would have made the situation a whole lot worse.

Cauterization stops bleeding essentially by cooking blood and tissue. When exposed to extreme heat, proteins in the blood denature and harden (the same way eggs turn white and change texture when cooked), which stops the bleeding.

In the process, however, it creates severe burns. Burns are even more prone to infection that a garden-variety bullet wound, so even if Zia had burned out some dead/damaged tissue and killed some of the bacteria living in it, it wouldn’t stop the infection and it would create a bigger, more vulnerable wound than before.

A neat MacGyverism they could have used would have been wound packing from the beginning. That can be accomplished by dampening clean cloth (preferably something sterile (like gauze) or longer-fiber cloth, not cotton balls or anything that would risk leaving fibers in the wound when removed), cutting it into strips, and packing the wound with them. It would need to be changed about twice per day, or more often if there was a lot of drainage. The goal would be to continuously pull the dead tissue, pus, old blood, and bacteria out of the wound, which would keep the infection down until he could recover or get to somewhere with antibiotics.

R E F E R E N C E S

#MacGyver #whump #to be a man #cauterization #bullet wounds #GSW #burns

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bloggerspow-blog · 4 years

Text

Mortal Kombat: Return To Of Kombat Shrines

Johnny Cage wiped sweat and angrily licked his upper lip, “So now is time of glory fighting, do you enjoy pain sandwiches?” Reptile looked down then up, then right, then at Johnny, then thought for a moment, then slightly bent his right knee. “If it is delicious swipings you like, then pain it is to your personal area parts!” Reptile slightly moved his foot and a small plume of dust was swept up. “See?”, said Reptile looking down at the ground. “See what?”, said Johnny. “Sorry, I was checking my massages.” Reptile now furious yelling: “Did you no like my dance moves?! If you were not so busy with your stupid, silly, awful, annoying, amusing, time consuming, absurd, benign, delightful and awful yammering you would have witnessed a thing that would have made you aware of it existing. Johnny, once more involved in a text with his agent looks up and raises his right eyebrow so it is higher than his other eyebrow, the other eyebrow is located on the opposite side of his cranium. The main idea is that there are two eyebrows and the one he is moving is the current one described now. “Well I...” Reptile interrupts while Johnny is speaking just now a moment ago: “Shut up you stupid pud!” Johnny stops moving, puts his hands at his sides and Reptile does the same, neither of them continues to move and stares silently at one another...day turns to night.......

MORTAL KOMBAT!!!!!

Sonya slowly roused from sleep in her room which the sun was coloring a golden shade of yellow, her hair lay about her carefree and flat, like pancakes left on a stove. The pancakes were delicious but there were more made than needed, so some were saved with Tupperware. With a majestic stretch, she raised up from her bed and arched her well toned body showcasing her physique and at the apex letting out a horrendous fart: “PLBBBBBBBBBBBIP!!!!!! It violently shook the adjoining wall. “Really Mom? What the fuck you smelly fucking bitch?! I swear to God after the first 3 games you just let your shit go and do you know how embarrassing it was having to go to school explaining that you were on medication while shouting: “ERUAGHHHUHEEEHHUHHH!” While ripping off men's heads and pissing on their ashes?” Cassie was a typical asshole teenager who was spoiled and smelled like gum and hairspray, even after raising her to be a man she still insisted on being a bitch. Cassie is painfully aware of how stupid it was for her mother to have bred with her father, although to be fair he was the only normal person with a normal penis in the tournament (Kano had a metal cock and Jax was...look Sonya is a racist okay? She wouldn't date Liu Kang, she wouldn't even date Quan Chi due to his Jewish heritage.) “You had your pick Mom, you stupid fucking cunt bag, you could have banged a thunder guy, or even sold your soul to a sorcerer with erectile disfunction and I would be able to kill fuckers with my magic queefs with green magic clouds or some shit. Noooo, instead I have some stupid ass drone and shoot people in a martial arts tournament.” Sonya had been silent up till this point, she had been busy breathing in her flatulence as she found it absolutely fantastic, she loved breathing her own fart gas, especially early in the morning after a night of drinking and eating peanuts. “Cassie, you are a whore, a fucking mistake, we actually were using condoms AND I was on birth control AND had a diaphragm inside me yet we still somehow got fucking cursed with you.” Sonya picked a small booger from her nose, smelled it and flicked it with fury at her daughter where it hit the wall with a shower of gross sparks. “You were a mistake and so was I, we all were because I recently found out Kano is my actual father so yeah, our family is a shit show even by Outworld's standards.” Cassie and Sonya both shake hands and salute, the entire room is suddenly engulfed with flames.

Outside...”Thank God we got out of that”, said Cassie. “You can say that again.”, said Sonya. ”Thank God we got out of that”, said Cassie. “You can say that again.”, said Sonya.”Thank God we got out of that”, said Cassie. “You can say that again.”, said Sonya. “So Mom, are you finally ready to admit you are a stupid whore?”, Cassie looked at her Mom for a response. “Yeah totally am slut.”, Sonya smiled and revealed she was missing 3 teeth, making her smile resemble a hobos. Sonya then let out a battle cry: “Lalalalalalala!!!” Cassie looks up, then down, turns around once, then back at her Mother. “Why did I just do that?” Sonya glares seriously into the distance at a nearby tree. “It's because you are a warrior, because you understood what that thing was to know. When instructions were handed out and mailed, they were hard to understand due to being comprised of small pictures with no words. We all still were able to assemble the furniture ourselves but I will never forget it, that is when I knew you were the un-chosen one, the one who was supposed to know the thing. Then all this other stuff happened, and I am also hungry now.” Cassie looks like a cat who was wet but then became dry and hoarsely replies: “Then, we dine in Hell tonight! My little kettle corn Mommy Mom!!!” Now different things happen to other characters too.

Scorpion grabbed at the brown tube which had become the ultimate opponent with a scrap of white barely hanging onto the edge of the roll. “Damn!”, Scorpion reached out and snatched the tube off the holder with a soft loving gesture. “By the fires of unholy eternal Heck, this is less than what I desire!” He then goes through a painstaking task of peeling back enough cardboard to cover his hand and reluctantly lowers his palm to relieve his stinky shameful horrible waste he was naughty enough to expel because he is bad and a devil person. “Whew it sure is smelly in here now!”, waving his hand in a circular, counter-clock wise and sideways motion he sang a sad, uplifting ditty: “Iiiiiiii juuuuuussst tooook a craaaaapp, iiiiiitt waaaas reallllly baaaaaddd, it buuuuuuuurrned my deeeeemonic aaaaaassss and nooooowww I am saaaaad.” He exited with a mighty flush as his enemy faced him down right outside the door. “I need to shit too once in a while dickhead.”, Sub Zero was not pleased, ever since this uneasy peace it seemed there was never a free moment to use the bathroom. “What are you doing in there anyway? It is not like you are jerking off, your dick was burned off years ago.” Scorpion erupted in a bout of flame and was now a skeleton. “Nooo, I can't, should we talk about what happened to your appendages? Or is it too soon to mention the ice tray incident?” Sub Zero became sad and cried tears which froze before being able to escape his stupid cold face. “You do not know what it is like, shrinkage was a real issue and you know how it makes me feel. Can we not do this right now please?” “Oh all right, I supposed you have been helping me with my baths and daily feedings, ever since we moved into this apartment I have begun feeling like you do not hate me anymore, you never rip off my head, you are always criticizing me and it makes me hot...not in a good way either. Sub Zero set down his knitting and looked at his friend, “Look, I really still need to use the bathroom okay?” “Then use it.”, said Scorpion. “I will.”, replied Sub Zero with a pep in his step as he pranced to the bathroom angrily. Sub Zero then uses the bathroom. Having finished using the restroom, Sub Zero returns to the couch and resuming knitting while humming: “Dun dun da dun da dun da dun da dah. Duh da du da duh da, (murmering) mortal kombat” Scorpion now in human form once more slaps his right knee past his thigh, but not quite the very tip of his knee, about 4 inches away from the front of his leg where the human knee joint is usually located. “See? No hate, just some odd couple bullshit...you used to be cool man.” Both beginning humming together as we slip out quietly...I mean really who wants to watch that? They are like a married couple.

Lament of Badgers

Liu Kang looked out over Edenia, a sprawling and beautiful land, with its sparkling waters and happy squirrels. He then put down the magazine and observed his dreary surroundings. The apartment was in his Mother Sui Kang's name not his own so he could not help but try to follow the rules, no loud chewing, no spiked arm bands on the couch and the worst rule of all, no fighting. There was water running, in fact it had been running for too long now... “Kitana! Are you almost done washing our produce yet?” “Almost my little Egg Foo Hung!” God he hated that nickname, yes he had a huge dong, but it was not the most mighty of the Wangs, Goro held that title. “Did you check the mail K? I was too busy rehearsing for my graduation speech.” Kitana laughed crazily and did a back flip, “I am so glad to be who I am! And yes I checked the mail and no you did not get anything, hehhhahahahahahaaaa!” Liu Kang stood up with speedy and fresh air while flossing shouting: “You disrespect the fish you get the whole thing, you wanted to see, you dreamed so hard like a fighting fish of glory. So now what say the opponents?” Kitana rose in the air on one leg while posing with her hands clasped and began to sing “Shake shake shake senora shake your body line.” and while gyrating was also firing a Desert Eagle at her husbands feet. “For fuck's sake what is wrong with you? You crazy ass bitch, we are gonna get evicted now cut it out!” Kitana descended to the ground and scratched at the wood, she scratched until her fingers were bleeding. Liu Kang watched for a few moments and then bowed, back flipping out of the room while letting out small “Wudap!” and “Wah!”.

Keys were heard jingling the doorknob. “Waiyaiyaiyaiyaiiiiiiii!!!” It was the landlord, must have gotten off early. She flung herself into the room, then backwards down the stairs and out into the road. A passing car honked its horn loudly, Sui stood up and lifted the vehicle over end like it was made of paper. People scattered in fear as she walked up to the window of the car where a man was stammering and shaking. She pointed her bony dirty green finger in his dumb stupid face, then turned and ran back up the stairs, then fell back down the stairs, then went to the local corner store for a candy bar, then returned to the stairs, she then carefully went up them and hopped over the last one, she was not going to fall for that shit again. Entering the room to find filthy empty food containers and dirty diapers stacked in the corner. “ I am home you lazy no good doo doo Kang!” Her screams filled the room and Liu Kang smiled warmly, “Hey Mom, did you check the mail? I am waiting for a collectors edition mug with a map of how to get to the new island for the chess tournament I told you about. His mother punched a hole in the wall, lit a cigarette while bouncing a basketball with her arm still in the wall, she took a drag and no smoke ever came out. “I know how deep this goes, there is no chess tournament, you must have gotten drunk with rent again right?” Liu Kang looked into a nearby mirror, winked, wiped his face, noticed his left eyebrow was getting long again and plucked a hair, then procured a shaver and removed the entire thing. “Oh no now I look not like a furious fighting man of burning muscle punches anymore. “Oh you look so handsome, like a suitable rental car with extra seat room!” His mother was now juggling firey blades and a cat. “Mom why do you always know just what words are said?” She swung a samurai sword at a watermelon in mid-air. “From here on out I will never talk like a boondalungaloo again. I am sorry that you are such a little baby bitty beep beep blop ploopy bloopy blee. It is the only way to center your Chihuahua.”

Liu Kang nodded and quietly painted his finger nails hot pink, he stopped to apply a small sticker of a baby chick to his index nail. “Kitana, thank you so much for this color it is striking, get it?” Kitana burst into the room wearing an overcoat and a bullet proof vest. “I am happy you like it, to make others happy is the motto of the badger!” Liu Kang fought to prevent vomiting as he drank a glass of rotten milk. He looked at a picture of himself on the wall, “Badger? What are you talking about?” Kitana set her puppy down and it ran backwards to its kennel. “You know silly, the Lament of Badgers Festival. It is what precedes Mortal Kombat in the hood bitch.” Liu kang took a long drink of chunky sour milk, “By the Gods why am I drinking this? Yeah I forgot, oh well, guess it is time for DVR watching. Liu Kangs ugly stupid fingernails tapped the remote lightly. He list-fully opened the viewing guide and selected his library, then navigated to settings, system and updates and then moved down 3 places to select update check, the screen flickered and he was back at the previous menu. Liu watched as his TV levitated off the ground and fell, shattering like a pillow dropped on bags. “Liu Kang you silly sad Sally! Get the fuck up and train now!” Raiden was standing in front of him smoking a blunt and wearing a pimp coat, his hat replaced with a bandanna. “And yo stupid asses better have my rent by the first...bitch.” He was instantly gone in a puff of green smoke, a small fire had been started by his lightning feet of fury. Liu Kang had to act fast, he threw Kitana's cat at the fire and it took out a cat sized fire extinguisher out of its suitcase and sprayed coolant, putting out the fire. While flying through the air it had also pissed for the length of the throw, not of fear but vengeance. “Now I leave you with my mighty piss stain to remind you of the day you crossed me, Sudakai Hiroki!” The cat struggled his paw to flip the bird to the human and left, making sure to slam the door. “But your name was Fluffles.” Liu Kangs eyes welled up with tears as he chopped an onion furiously with care. The door burst open, and Sudakai looked like a fire dragon as he said “That was never my name, you are so stupid man really, no one likes you. You are cheap, you are always yelling some unintelligible shit and spamming, sorry bro but fuck you. I forgot my nip.” The cat had snatched his satchel of kitty cat mowie wowie and fled slamming the door. Liu Kang cried this time out of sadness as the cat had also made off with the rent...oh well...it wasn't the first time.

#liukangwoo #mk11funny #funnyfanfict #retroxtainer #mk11fanfiction #comedymk #subzerofunny #scorpionfunny #fictionalfun #mkcomedy

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addytheheartbreaker · 5 years

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"Meet Bezai the Egg"

Name: Bezai Lebedev Cawthorn

Age: 26

Height: 5'9 ft

Weight: 60 kg

Mask singer belong to: Johnny Weir

Friends with: Doll, Dog, Rabbit, Ice Cream, Leopard, Poodle, Lion, Penguin, Bee, Eagle, Alien, Skeleton, Peacock, Ladybug, Purple Peacock.

Appearance: pale white slick side hair, white with gold rings eyes, gold eye-shadow, cheek bones, small beard, white painted nails with gray crack design and a slim but athletic body (figure skating body type).

Clothing style: his fashion design clothing, coats (mainly Russian, Japanese 30's - 50's coat style), fur coats, his egg sunhat, LOTS of bling and jewelly, eccentric or formal suits (Main clothing). Dresses (to his fashion design or Johnny's fashion design), figure skating suits and Johnny's fashion clothing (for formal, party and broadcast occasions).

Fun facts about Bezai:

•the eccentric, narcissistic, flamboyant, stylish and "all eyes on me" Egg man.

•Egg is born a American, Russian and French (his father is American-Russian while his grandfather is French) and he is Japanese ancestry from his mother's side.

•Bezai can speak Russian and French when he was just a child, he taught himself to learn russian then started understanding Japanese when he was 14. He also learned Japanese too when he was 16.

•He is an ally and one of the iconic people of LGBTQ with Leon and Victoria. His sexuality is gay. He is still single.

•Egg is a anime lover since in his early teens. He is a fan of Yuri on Ice and old anime style times. Him and Johnny talk about it on different times.

•Bezai had been keeping his sexuality a secret from public and from Johnny. Johnny has suspected from his behavior after he had found out he had suffered on keeping his sexuality a secret as Johnny was the first person to convinced him to come out and supported him since and today.

•the reason why kept his sexuality a secret is because he had been bullied since childhood.

•as a child, Egg is isolated and trying to fit in to many children and at school. He is an excellent and a honoured student which envied by many students as most boys bullied him. He is also been verbally harassed by boys by calling him homophonic names which is the reason on keeping his sexuality.

•hr started skating in age 15, he is a huge fan of Johnny Weir's skating performance leading him into interesting in skating and fashion.

•he is an egg lover who always eats and cooks egg related dishes. He is an excellent cook and Bezai eats and diet on a healthy lifestyle because of his skating career.

•He is not a fan of fast food because he prefer to eat healthier food. According to Bezai, he considered fast food "a place of wasting your health".

•he owned 4 pets at his mansion and had taking cared properly either himself or his servants. He owned a white stallion, a white snow fox, a Chihuahua and a swan.

•He is a iconic figure skater from Olympic culture, a fashion designer, a model and a interviewer of the Olympian Winter along side Johnny Weir.

•Egg has retired since 2016 due to his injuries gotten worse. But he can still skating properly and begin designing clothing and interview with several Olympian skaters to socialize and teaching/encouraging skaters.

•He had an accident during his skating performance since 2015. He got injured himself both his knee and hips when he is about to do the trick. That accident horrified Johnny concerning his safety.

•He has been pressured so much due to suffered anxiety issues and intense fear of disappointment/failure.

•when he pressured too much, he will 'crack' mentally. He is lucky that he hadn't harmed himself or commit recklessness.

•Bezai's mentor, Johnny is always worried of Bezai's health and his anxiety issues. Fearing the thought of Bezai doing something harmful to himself.

•He had bodyguards and servants to protect, escort and serving him because of his insecurity and needed emergency.

•Egg lived in his own mansion in the middle of a beautiful field, his mansion is a Victorian like castle, a farm for his vegetable harvesting (because of his healthy lifestyle) and his pet horse, a huge gym and a room filled with stuffed animals.

•he is actually a stuffed animal collector, he mainly collect panda, polar bears, snow fox, swans and fluffy and furry stuffed animals.

•Bezai has a soft spot for soft furry fur and he always sleep with a huge egg like bed inside a very soft cushions, pillows and a soft furry blanket. The reason why he is likes anything soft is because he is an Egg. (If you know what I mean)

•the reason why he is sleeping with an egg like bed is because he is afraid of getting caught by dust, germs and caught himself a cold. (If you remember the clues where Egg is inside a big egg container)

•He is a huge fan of Lady Gaga. He had an autograph from his favorite celebrity and he wanted the signature to his most favorite ice skating costume. He even listened to her songs and brought all albums.

•Egg is rocking with heels! He can wear them and dance with it like a real god he is. (Bezai: of course I can rock it, I'm fabulous!)

•He can wear both dresses and suits what ever he likes. If anyone dare to insult or gave him a homophobic insult at him, his bodyguards would murder/assassinated them. He will ignore it and do what ever he wants.

•Egg has a collection of champagne, he only drink it every weekends.

•Bezai and Nicol often compete to each other teasingly as frenemies. Because of the "their chemistry don't mix well" due to Dog's Gothic puck bad boy persona/style and Egg's flamboyant, narcissistic and stylish style didn't mix so well. Bezai often to teasing Nicol by smacking his butt, teasing him into something that makes him embarrassed and bragging for his closeness to Addy while Nicol often to do scare pranks at him (not too much or too far, but didn't do often because of Addy), fake threats, always pulled his egg hat and teased him about his favorite yaoi ships.

•Egg and Ice Cream are partners together before and after the Masked Singer. Because they both food related.

•Egg is really adored to Doll. Addy admired his flamboyance and stylishness (because I have a soft spot to guys with flamboyance and sassy attitude) and all his bling. While Bezai is being impress of Addy's talent, potential on fashion designing, her elegance and Egg literally saw Doll like a model.

•Egg really wanted Doll to become his model because of her beautiful features and body type. However, Doll doesn't wanted to due to my shyness and I had been told that I look like a super model. Bezai convinced me that I am until Nicol caught that attention.

•Bezai becomes Addy's fashionista/fashion designer, her modelling teacher and a good figure to influence her. Nicol proposed him to become Addy's influential to give her better confidence and helping her picking up clothes for her.

•His room when staying at the Masked Singer season 2 mansion, his room is of course Victorian like, pure white with a hint of jewels, ice, crystals and yellow. With his egg bed, fluffy carpet floor, his stuffed animals and mannequins clothing hanging beside his desk of his several designing clothes.

•Egg work out 4 hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to keep his body shape in the same body type.

•he owns two weapons: fork like trident and blades heels/shoes. He knows how to use it and he can fight himself for self defense. Despite he has bodyguards to protect him because of the concerning pressure, he can managed to fight alone or competing someone who challenged him or Egg challenging him.

•Bezai's powers is ice and his fighting style are swan technique style (it is actually flight, he prefer it to be called "Grace style"), agility and balancing (a fox style "skater's style") and some kicking attacks (using his blade heels/shoes)

•Egg is actually a friend to Eagle because they known each other in New York both are interviewers, Peacock since he is a fan to Peacock's performance in Las Vegas, Penguin, Poodle, Alien and Lion together meet each other at the gala every year then Leopard, Bee and Ladybug also met at the gala but the three both commonly have a royal like clothing together.

•Bezai met one of Addy's member from her gang. Narcis the Purple Peacock. Since 4 years ago before the accisent, they first met when Bezai is skating himself at the private skating ring until he notice Narcis's skating first and showing off his skills then the Purple Peacock is offering him a special free drink and complement his professional skating skills.

•the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock even gave him a nickname "ваши милости" ("your Graces" in English).

•Narcis is the one who helped the injured Bezai carrying him out if the ice. Bezai wanted to know who is the mysterious charming man and he also remembered he is actually a Russian man.

•Addy knew it because Narcis told her that he had met the iconic Egg man. He told her not to tell him just yet.

•Egg might have a crush on the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock.

•He CAN'T go out without wearing bling. (Bezai: trust me, I won't go outside the place without wearing my jewelry)

#the masked singer human au #the masked singer #the masked au #mask au #bezai lebedev cawthorn the egg #bezai lebedev cawthorn #bezai #masked singer

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mpkcom · 5 years

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Winter rabbit

2800 words short story inspired by nature and it's cruel side. Mild horror and fantasy.

Let me tell you a story. A story not told over seven hills and seven seas but right here. In my backyard. You could say it is over seven grasslands for there is no mountain or lake in sight. Flat. Everything is flat, except for an occasional Oak or Cherry.

The story begins in winter. A normal, even a mild winter, but with a thick layer of snow. Houses here are low with roofs touching the white blanket, creating mounds with sparkling chimneys. The roads? You mean trenches dug from one farm to another.

In one such burrowed path my friend drove in his car. An old Eastern European vehicle designed to be stubborn on these occasions. Steering wheel vibrated. He opened his mouth. Motor let out a ticking sound. Snowflakes on his windshield slowed down. Clash. Glass broke.

He stopped yawning. With a fluent swoop, he looked around his cabin. Foggy windows were whole. His heart pounded. The only sound he heard. He looked at the radio. Smudged yellow light illuminated an FM scale. Only a moment ago it signaled a radio station playing songs with lots of trumpets and bass. He turned the knob. Only static on every frequency.

Outside the snowflakes fell in a straight line. Right light shone. Left flickered. He placed his hand on the door handle. As the lock clicked so did his mind. All the stories about wolves and night predators came to his mind. He gulped and cracked the door open. The wind pushed the moist chill air onto his face. Warm tears rolled down his cheeks. Snow crumbled as he sank ankle deep.

Cracks formed an intricate mosaic in the glass originating from a frozen ball of ice. Only forty centimeters tall, it bent in the front bumper and a small part of a square hood.

The right light flickered and all of them shut down in unison. The wind howled carrying a copper, bitter smell. Hair all over his body straightened, hands trembled and a warm, electrical, current ran down his spine separating his will from his legs. He only felt numbness from the waist down.

Howls cascaded in the distance. Wolf howls. He turned, stiffed and reluctant. Red orbs, not even bloodshot eyes but pure red orbs, stared back at him. Close. Yet not close enough. Only a fifty meters away. He could run. He could come to my house. It`s only a hundred meters ahead. Not that he didn`t want to.

He could hear the blood rushing through his veins. He still felt the warmth in his chest despite inhaling deep icy air. His fingers turned pale from quenching his fists, but legs… Why they didn`t want to move?

Matted glow ran down from the center of the two orbs, resembling a shooting star with a very short lifespan. My friend gulped. His legs moved. One, only one, throbbing, unsure step that made him jerk to the left.

The glow dashed at him. Snow squeaked. He ran, waving his hands around as he battled the primal element of wind. Warmth crept behind him. It took a form of a breath filled with the stench of rot and decay. He stepped on my porch. His hands squeezed the door handle. Locked. With his free, right, hand he assaulted the door. Wooden frame shook on loose hinges.

Lock clicked. He stumbled forward. If it weren`t for me and my wooden buttons on a thick woolen vest, his fingers wouldn`t find a place to grab. He would lie belly flat on the floor.

I stepped back. Lifted my fist. His eyes, wide open, glossed. I lowered my hand. Behind him, I saw darkness. Cold prevailing darkness. Nothing else. He gasped for air and lifted himself up. Slamming the door shut, he turned to find something to reinforce it. His eyes focused on a simple chair with chipped white paint. He pushed me aside. Grabbed it. Once snugged under the door handle he breathed out. He swayed side on side and lowered his shoulders.

He sniffed and turned around. My lips stretched. I knew what he smelled. The Oyster Mushroom creaked over the open Oak fire. I bid him sit next to the fireplace. Cattle whistled and I served us mint tea. He told me everything. Every little detail. We decided that something needed to be done with those wolves the first thing in the morning.

And the morning came. Rather late, however, normal in winter days. My friend smiled at the sight of bacon and eggs. His smile grew wider after I took my carbine off from its resting place above the fireplace. The lock clicked and I stepped into stumped snow. Reflection of daylight bounced from the white layer. Like needles puncturing my eyes, it burned. I lifted my right hand to shield me. With every step, it became more bearable.

Thirty steps away from my porch I noticed it. Puffiness scattered in a circle. Next to it, boot tracks of a grown man. I crouched. Snow froze over the night. At the edge of the circle pointed out a wide and buried stone. Further ahead were two sets of tracks. One leading toward the snow crater and one leading back. The print itself stayed sharply etched into the snow. A print that I recognized. Rabbit. Large one. Insanely huge. I rubbed my eyes. By the tracks, this monster should be big as a bear cub.

My friend shifted from one foot to another. His gaze burned the back of my neck. I stretched my legs and dusted my green coat. I placed a round in my carbine. He gulped behind me.

His car stood in front of us. A whistle came from behind the car. My friend stepped beside me. Our elbows touched. If I knew, he would obstruct my aiming hand so much I would forbid him to come. It whistled again. I unlocked my weapon and stepped forward. Stepping as quietly as possible. The sound resembled a sad muffle cry.

I came four meters in front of the car. I stopped. Circled it around the back end. My barrel at point ready. Nothing. In front of me was nothing. I glanced at the car itself. Its windows fogged. I couldn`t perceive what was inside. I touched the handle. Cold. Pulled it. It didn`t move. I jerked my arm back. Handle cracked. The door didn`t move. Locked.

I stopped to listen. The cry stopped. I moved toward the passenger door. Pointing at the murky window. Handle clicked, the door opened. I jammed it wide open, ready to shoot. Nothing. The car was empty. Only a bit of snow piled on the seat. I glanced at the door. The glass didn`t touch the upper part of the frame.

The cry sounded again. Coming from the very place, I looked. Air brushed my cheek. I grinned and shut the window properly.

“Blood,” Shouted my friend.

He stood ten meters in front of the car. Looking at the ground. I lowered my weapon. Looked left and right. Couldn`t shake that terrible feeling of being watched but I couldn`t see any other living being besides us.

My friend pointed at the red smear in the snow next to the rabbit track. Small in size it reminded me of a

wound drop. I crushed and rolled the end of my mustache. The tracks lead on further away into the field. The red droplets looked bigger as we went.

First, we found them every ten meters, then six meters. Soon they followed to four, three, and two. Not that we needed the tracks anymore. Red ground stretched in front of us. Clothed blood. At the center laid scattered carcasses. Grey fur, long snouts, and canine teeth. Wolves. Something razor like slashed at them. Hot flash ran down my spine and my shoulders trembled. I never saw something like this.

My friend turned his back to the sight. Inhaling deep breaths. Bowing and resting his hands on his knees. I head slow moans coming from him. He pressed his belly.

I crouched to better inspect the bodies. I never saw something like this but I remembered what my grandfather used to say. He told me his hunting stories. One still stayed with me. He hunted a fox in the middle of winter when he found it butchered. Next to it were paw prints of a creature he never before saw. The creature attacked all the livestock in the area but somehow no one could catch it, let alone see it. He said that occasionally the nature itself in its chaotic whip creates a monstrosity unlike any other. He told me stories of goats with golden horns, unicorns, and more sinister natured beasts. A price trophy of any hunter.

The rabbit tracks stopped. We decided to get back to my home and try to repair my friend’s car. When we came back, I spotted new prints. Fresh. Running around my house. I unlocked the safety mechanism on my weapon and readied myself. My friend stayed next to his car. I circled around the house. The trail ended behind my wood log storage. I looked left and right. Nothing. I looked up. The thick layer of snow resting upon my roof seemed as usual as ever. I climbed upon the storage roof. I opened my eyes wide. My jaws quenched and I took in fast shallow breaths. Footprints doted my whole roof. However, I still couldn`t see the rabbit anywhere.

I came down and went to my door. Locked just as I left it. The rest of the day went peacefully. We found out that his car battery died and it took a large chunk of the day to refill it. I offered him to stay the night. After a strong dinner, we were readying ourselves to go to sleep when the electricity went out.

My friend panicked. He told me to fetch some light. I grabbed a box of matches and walked toward a wood drawer where I kept a few candles. I stroke a match. The fierce yellow spark illuminated the window above the dresser. Two red eyes stared at me. I let off the match. It extinguished on the ground.

Immediately I stroke another one. No trace of the eyes. Must have been my imagination. I lighted up the candle and went to see my fuse box. Everything seemed all right. Must have been an outside issue. My friend begged me not to go out during the night. Could be because of his tone of voice or the apparition of the eyes but I listened to his pleading.

Muffle sound came from the roof. Fireplace extinguished. An avalanche of snow fell in it. My friend passed me the carbine. I felt the trembles of his hand when I touched the cold slippery barrel. He dropped the munition. I bend down to pick it up. I straightened myself. Two red orbs shone on the same window. My friend shrieked. I loaded a round. Loud bang. A sweet scent filled the room. Yellow flame escaped the barrel. Glass crashed. The eyes disappeared.

I turned to see my friend holding a kitchen knife in his right hand and the candle in his left. I knew that the monster couldn`t get in. Windows were barred, but it would be inconvenient if the candle died out on us. Being blind in a fight is never a good thing. I commanded him to fetch an old oil lamp and turn it on. Meanwhile, I closed all the window shutters and bolted the door.

Oil lamp only began to wake up its murky light when squeaks came from the attic. I stood frozen in place. Looking at the wooden trap door leading to it. The hair on the back of my neck straightened. My legs throbbed with electricity. My grip on the weapon slipped. I whipped my palms on my pants.

My friend didn`t wait. He lighted the remaining two candles I had. He placed them in three different corners so the whole room lighted ablaze.

The squeaks came toward the trapdoor. A little cloud of dust fell down the wooden stairs. I pointed my carbine at it. The squeaks turned to stomps and it moved away onto the other end. I took the oil lamp and climbed on top the stairs. With the end of the barrel, I pushed open the trap door. Ready to squeeze the trigger any moment. Dark void reigned in the attic. Coldness seeped from it. A freezing sensation that grabbed my heard, pressing it.

Seconds turned to eternity. No sound came to me. No creature, no eyes not even a shadow moving. I brought the oil lamp close to the edge of the door. Darkness withdrew. Dusty chests dominated the room. Behind one old bed frame, I swore I saw something move. The oil lamp tapped on the doorframe. I lifted it and placed it on the attic floor. Rolling it further inside the room with the point of my carbine.

It moved again. Brown Fur. It twitched. Straightened. Two long ears darted out. Loud cry raptured the room. In a flash, a gargantuan brawn ball lashed at the door.

I twitched. Moved backward. My foot slipped and I fell on my back. Carbine flew out of my hand. Above me, I saw two long razor sharp teeth. The lamp oil dripped down on me from wet sagged fur. The creature’s nose had a large wound. There were bite marks on its head. It hissed at me and jumped fort with its saber tooth’s

Instantly, I covered my head. Teeth sank in my flash. Piercing my right underarm and back of my palm. Gunfire echoed. The weight lifted from my chest. The beast rolled and pounced on my friend. He ducked. The creature slammed on the wall. Breaking the small nightstand. Yellow candle on top of it

Fell on its front right paw. Flames rose up to its leg. The creature screamed and ran towards the door. Flames spread to its shoulder. Splinters flew. Doorframe cracked and hinges broke. The monster ran outside. Rolling on the snow along the way. My friend shot another round at it. It disappeared from our sight.

Blood dripped down my hand. I held it. Squeezing it. Quenching my teeth. I stumbled toward the first aid locker. I rampaged it through. Inhaled one deep breath and poured alcohol over the wound. Then applied the bandage.

We managed to barricade the door and close the chimney. During the rest of the evening, the beast didn`t return. We took turns at keeping guard.

The morning shone and I created a plan. It was apparent that the creature feared fire. We will lure the creature in and trap it. I couldn’t move my right hand there for I agreed to act as live bait. The monster had already a bite at me. I hoped it developed a taste.

The whole morning we dug up a hole near my house. We took gasoline from his car and the car itself acted as a hunting hideout. At around four in the afternoon, the sun started to set. I sat at the bottom of the hole. Two hours passed and I almost fell asleep in the cold.

Tapping sounded in the distance. I dared a peek outside. Something pushed me from behind. Razor sharp pain pierced my right ear. My back bent by the sheer weight. Claws sank into my skin and ran down my back. Tears came to my eyes. I lifted myself up from the pit but it pulled me down. Shoot fired. Yelp. The weight fell from my shoulders. I looked up. My friend lends me a hand. My foot slipped on the edge of the hole. I almost pulled him to the pit. He stood strong and lifted me. Claws reached for my foot. He fired again. I clicked the lighter wheel. The blue flame burned at the top of the nozzle.

I smirked. Threw the lighter in the pit. Fire blazed like an inferno. Creature squeaked. The ball of fur jumped out of the pit. It`s back still burning. It ran toward the forest. My friend grabbed my carbine and chased after it. I fell to my knees. Rubbing my ear, shoulders and back with cool snow. It helped. I heard several shots and after ten minutes, my friend returned. He cursed. The beast got away. He carried me inside and tended to my wounds.

The night came. We waited for the revenge. The morning lighted up. No trace of footprints around the house. I got a fever. My friend helped me change the bandages, and we cleaned the wounds with moonshine. A week passed and still no sight of the monster. We went hunting it but even the tracks disappeared. Years passed and I almost forgot about the story. Until today my grandson. The picture you took looks very similar to the winter rabbit.

#horror story #horror #fantasy #short story #my writing #writers #writers on tumblr #winter #rabbit

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feargender · 6 years

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somewhere outside my life babe

read on ao3 here

trigger warnings include: mentions of past abuse (light, non-graphic), panic attacks and dissociation related to juno’s ptsd and the traumas mentioned in monster’s reflection, non-graphic flashbacks, juno’s past issues with drug addiction (light, non-graphic), juno dealing with being presented with triggers for his drug addiction, unresolved self blame regarding benten’s death (not touched on heavily), mild description of blood and injury

Juno has always been a glass on the verge of spilling over. Every time someone jostles him, a little bit sloshes over the edge, a little bit of himself pours out before he can stop it. And he can’t put it back in.

Every day could be a day where he spills his guts all over the floor, and all there will be left to do is sit in the mess. Impossible to clean up. Impossible to pack away neatly again.

It’s been harder, harder than it has been in almost twenty years. Since the dreams he had when the Theia was removed, he can’t seem to keep a hold of it all. His ghosts are everywhere again. Constantly spilling over, out of his dreams and into his waking moments, pouring and pouring out of his empty eye socket. Filling up every room he walks into.

He feels like he’s picked a scab and the wound is bleeding again. He had left it to crust over for so long, had resisted scratching the incessant little itch. But now it’s all bubbling back up to the surface. Benzaiten. Jack. Sarah.

The curse of Andromeda come back to haunt him, thirty-five years later.

Rita has been around longest, has witnessed enough of Juno’s drunken hysterical rages for him to feel ashamed, but it also means she notices first and most often. “Mistah Steel?” she says softly, teetering on the edge of the kitchen threshold. Juno stands there in the harsh yellow lighting of the ship in his socks and underwear, surrounded by the broken remains of a bowl from the drying rack and a plastic cup that has splashed its water into a pool around his feet. He’s covering his ears with his hands, eye shut tight.

He just wanted a fucking drink.

But then the metal walls of the ship creaked a bit, settling or something, and he remembered how there was a creaky floor tile in his house in Old Town and how even in her drugged and drunken haze Sarah Steel had the ears of a bat and she would hear him moving around at night, corner him, captive audience to her most recent stage show of misery. He knocked the glass bowl off the countertop.

The sound of it shattering into a pieces sent his heart rattling and suddenly he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t see straight and he felt half out of space and time. On the ship, in his kitchen in Old Town. Forty years old, fifteen years old. He shattered a little bit too.

He doesn’t know how long he stood there, but then Rita was before him. Shuffling slightly, voice uncharacteristically low.

“Mistah Steel, can you hear me?” she asks.

Juno doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to speak again. He grunts out a noise of affirmation, the sound warbled to his own covered ears. His eye is still shut.

More hesitant shuffling. Closer. He can feel her drawing closer and if he could move he would step away. Probably directly onto a piece of glass, but it would be better than hands on him. Anywhere near him.

She doesn’t touch him. He hears the distinct sound of glass scraping against tile, feels movement around his feet. Rita, using a towel to clear up the broken bowl and water from around him.

“You should go back to bed, Mistah Steel,” Rita suggests.

Juno blinks open his eye at her. The light is too bright, and for a minute he swears he sees another woman, taller, angrier, but he doesn’t. It’s just Rita. The nearness of her still almost makes his knees buckle and his stomach heave, but it’s just Rita. Rita stepping aside, Rita turning on the sink, and. Oh.

Rita holding out a new cup of water to him. Hand high on the rim of the glass, so he can take it without touching her fingers. His hand shakes terribly, but he takes it. Mechanically, as if there’s no other option.

“Night night, Mistah Steel,” she says, turning away from him and rummaging for her god awful salmon snacks.

Juno peels his soaked socks from the floor. One foot at a time. Stiffly. Unsteadily. Feeling a bit like a corpse. He goes back to bed.

Juno almost laughed out loud when Buddy and Jet presented their newest job to the rest of the crew, it was so perfect. Too perfect. Something out of one of Rita’s streams. A heist under the cover of a masquerade ball, held by one of Hyperion City’s most elite families.

It’s the first time Juno has set foot back on Mars, since he and Rita fled to the sky. He isn’t technically on Martian ground, but rather floating high above it in the well watered paradisal garden of an Uptown estate. Wearing a mask. Buddy insists it’s a ram, but Juno hasn’t ever seen a ram like this. It covers the upper half of his face, molded almost perfectly to his features and a rich matte black with twisting, shining black horns poking out of the top of it. The gold septum piercing in his nose had been his idea.

However, the novelty of it isn’t quite enough to make Juno feel at ease. He’s already down an eye, and his blindspot has now grown to include all but a tiny hole around his good eye that he can see through. Every time someone moves past him he has to resist the urge to jerk his head around and look.

He needs a drink.

Or something stronger.

There are waiters in golden tuxedos carrying small gilded trays of pills wrapped in individual multi colored papers, artfully arranged around small glasses of drink to swallow them down with. The partygoers slip them under their masks at leisure, taking small sips and smiling as the little pills slide down.

When Juno used to take pills, they usually came in tiny plastic baggies hidden underneath his dealer’s tongue.

He’s sure these are more expensive, but from Old Town to Uptown, illicit drugs don’t differ that much. Even twenty years out and several feet away, Juno can feel the bitter aftertaste on the back of his tongue.

It would certainly improve his mood. If he takes two, he would cease having a mood at all.

“Juno?” Nureyev comes up behind him almost silently, which really shouldn’t be possible, considering that he is wearing both high heeled boots and a stiff necked cape (for the silhouette). Juno can’t see it, but Nureyev’s muffled voice tells him that the orange and white fox mask is still in place on Nureyev’s face. “We’re almost done here.” His hand lands on the small of Juno’s back. “You’re tense.”

Juno smiles tightly. “I’ll be fine.” He through his little peephole as a woman in a silvery suit and feathered mask knocks back two of the little pills with a drink of champagne. His eye follows the movement of her swallow, bubbles chasing chemicals into her stomach and bloodstream. He can’t see it, but he knows her pupils will dilate, her heart will flutter up out of her chest like a bird.

He used to chase that feeling, those first euphoric minutes, into the bottom of every pill bottle to be found in Old Town.

His covered forehead breaks out into a small, prickling sweat.

“When can we get out of here?” Juno asks, and Nureyev hums, shifting to be in Juno’s line of sight.

Nureyev certainly sees Buddy before Juno does, dressed in one of those golden tuxedos like the rest of the waiters. Juno does, however, see the look that travels between them, though he hasn’t quite deciphered it when Peter turns back to him and says, “Whenever you like. Somewhere else you want to be?” He smiles sharply under his mask.

Juno is tempted to smile back, but says only, “Away from here. If you don’t mind.”

It’s just a graze. A blast of laser fire just a hair faster than Nureyev’s reflexes, slicing through the flesh of his bicep. Lots of blood, little injury. Juno knows it as he sees it, watches Nureyev’s face pinch into a tight grimace of pain.

Benzaiten!

The shots end relatively quickly after that, Buddy’s one-eyed aim worlds better than Juno’s. Nureyev doesn’t even shake as he gets back up off the ground, leaving droplets of red in his wake.

Benzaiten Steel, open this door!

Juno’s throat is clogged, he can’t breathe. He feels cracked open, a dropped egg with the runny yolk oozing out. “Juno?” Nureyev asks, brow furrowed.

BENTEN!

The hand Nureyev had been using to press tight around the wound in his arm comes up toward Juno, worry creasing his face. Juno lurches back, body springing into action so fast his mind can’t track it. Jumping, a series of flinches until he finds himself back in their hotel room.

Another jump out of his skin and he’s leaning his entire body against the hotel room door. Forehead against the cool wood. He knows that if he looks down to the floor he will see blood pooling, dark dark red and soaking into his pants at the knees.

He looks.

Green carpet. Clean. Freshly vacuumed.

“Juno,” Nureyev says again, possibly having repeated it many times before Juno actually heard him. Juno shifts on his knees, turning around to face the inside of the room. Nureyev sits on the bed, out of his bloody shirt. His arms are exposed, a clean white bandage wrapped around his wounded bicep. A little dot of red visible beneath where it’s still bleeding slightly.

He meets Nureyev’s eyes briefly before settling his face on the center of his chest. He’s listening.

“Where did you go?” Nureyev asks and Juno wants to laugh hollowly, but he can’t find that within him.

He’s exhausted, suddenly. Aching.

One more look at the floor to make sure there’s no blood, no slumped body on the other side of the door, and he sinks down from his knees to sit flat on his ass, resting his face in the cradle of his arms.

It’s much later that same night, or possibly very early the next morning, by the time Juno answers. They’ve managed to arrange themselves in the bed, Juno cocooned in the hotel bedding with Nureyev a safe distance away, their fingers just barely touching across the chasm between them.

“Sorry,” Juno mumbles, and Nureyev looks down.

“Whatever for?” he asks.

“You’re the one that’s hurt and I freaked out like that. It was…” Juno doesn’t know what it was. Stupid? Maybe. Embarrassing? Certainly. Nureyev won’t accept either of those.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Nureyev says gently. This time, Juno does manage that hollow laugh. Only, rather disgustingly, it turns into half of a sob. He presses his hand to his mouth, but it’s too late. More horrible sobs come out.

“It was. That’s the thing. It was my fault,” Juno says finally. Nureyev doesn’t answer, just watches him. Waiting. Giving him the choice to elaborate, or not.

Juno thinks that he shouldn’t continue. It was enough forcing himself to remember. But then… could it get any worse?

“My, uh. My brother, Benzaiten. We were twins. And you know my mom killed him. She wasn’t really. She wasn’t well; she was honestly really, really sick. She thought he was me, and she killed him. And his blood. I could smell it for weeks,” Juno runs a hand over his face. “Anyway. When Jet removed the Spectrum from my head, I dreamed it. Sort of. It was like I was living it all over again, a lot of terrible shit that I worked really hard to forget. And so lately it’s been at the forefront of my mind, every moment, waiting for something to happen. When you got shot, I just went back there.”

Juno runs out of steam, his mouth working for a few more seconds before closing. He looks up at Nureyev again and sees nothing but an intent expression, mostly devoid of emotion. Unlike Juno, Nureyev doesn’t wear every single feeling he has on his face. Normally it’s frustrating, but now Juno is almost glad he can’t decipher what’s going on in Nureyev’s head. If he saw guilt, or worse, pity, he doesn’t know what he would do.

Eventually, Nureyev says, “I understand. I’m sorry, Juno. But it’s not your fault that any of that happened. You don’t have to believe me, and we don’t need to talk about it, I know you’re tired. I just need you to know that you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Juno wants to argue, but he is tired. “Can we sleep, now?”

Nureyev’s mouth pulls up in a half smile. “That depends. Can I have some of those blankets, or do I have to stay out here and freeze?”

Juno begrudgingly unravels himself enough for Nureyev to join him in his safe little cave of hotel covers, tensing when Nureyev first wraps him up in warm arms, but then relaxing into the embrace. Touch hasn’t historically made him feel safe, but this touch, from this person, does. He’s still trying to get used to it.

“Thank you for trusting me with that,” Nureyev whispers, and Juno shrugs with one shoulder.

“Might as well know what you’re getting into.”

“Oh, Juno,” Nureyev gives a little laugh, “I’ve always known what I was getting into, with you.”

#i Think i hit all the triggers but lmk if i missed smth #juno steel #junoverse #tpp #the penumbra podcast #fanfic #peter nureyev #jupeter #benzaiten steel #mine #good to reblog #kieran reaches out into the void

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cutiecrates · 5 years

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Cutie Reviews: Kawaii Box Nov 18

So far nothing from Blippo, but it’s only been like... 3-4 days since I got the email from them, I assumed if anything it’d at least be a week, maybe two at the most. But again no tracking so I can’t be positive.

I can’t wait!

This months Japanese word: Shichimencho - Turkey

Gudetama Chocolate Bar

If you’ve been a reader of this blog then you might recognize the candy bar image on the wrapper. That’s right. It’s this again. I swear every few boxes we’re getting one.

But for anyone new or who are unfamiliar with this, this candy bar has a textured outside, sorta giving it a log design. On the inside is wafer, usually with a very thin layer of cream. They either come in chocolate or white chocolate, and features tons of various wrapper options; I usually just see Sanrio, but I’ve also seen Disney ones and on the Blippo website they have a Detective Conan one right now for $1.90.

Rating: ♥ ♥

It tastes pretty good, and that’s coming from someone who isn’t the strongest fan of white chocolate. I prefer dark or strawberry, but regular chocolate is always good too.

It makes me think of an imitation kit-kat bar, which isn’t bad at all. But I really wish they would give us something else.

Sakura Desk Calendar

Our next item is a very useful one for writing down appointments and keeping schedule of important dates- next to a planner that is. This is a cute little fold-able, standing calendar featuring a water color sakura theme.

And kitties of course.

It also features a side for writing down important notes or events/appointments. Available on the blippo website or $3.90.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥

I really love the colors and designs, they’re so gentle and pretty to look at~ Calendars are useful and all- but in all honesty I can’t even put mine on the calendar. Not only because Peach (my cat) would knock it down, but because I can’t get these ones with the folding bottom to sit. At all. I don’t know why, but they don’t work for me.

But on the plus side it’s small enough that I could keep it next to my bed in my stand, or I could put it in my bigger purses.

Sanrio Characters Sakura Plushie

A super cute Sanrio buddy to match our adorable new calendar. Each has a pretty pink pastel color scheme and cute little sakura on them. This line features My Melody, PompomPurin, Hello Kitty, and Cinnamoroll, and each one costs $4.90. These types of plush are similar to Tsum-Tsum, which means they can be stacked. Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ No, it doesn’t go with Thanksgiving like at all, but it’s so cute! I love the detail of the little flowers, which are very pretty to look at. The plush quality is also really nice, and she’s very soft~

Sushi Pen

Okay, still not thanksgiving- but at least this item is a food, which counts for something right?

Each pen costs $3.90, and there are 6 variations; salmon, egg sushi, riceball, rice in leaf, fried shrimp, and shrimp on rice. The topper is a rubbery plastic.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The pen is fine-tipped and it works very well. But the ink takes a while to dry so it isn’t a good option unless you plan to leave your book or paper out to avoid smears. I also discovered that the topper doesn’t stay on like you think it would. When you put the cap on the “pen butt“ it falls off semi-easily.

Thankful Memo-It Notes & Molang Eraser

Our next item are these cute Memo notes themed after 3 different girls, and oddly a polar bear. Each set is $1.80, and they have 30 notes in total.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I think it’s a cute idea, you never really see memo notes like this here. I like how you can write on her top, and if you’re really bored you could “design“ her a new one.

What bugs me is that it feels like lately they’re always giving us memo notes, and I have them practically coming out of my ears now; but at least I have a variety to suit the mood or theme.

Going with the stationery theme, our following item is a set of adorable Molang erasers. The set costs $1.90 on Blippo.com- and to get it out the way now, no they aren’t scented. They stink like eraser.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The quality is pretty much like any other eraser, pretty good. They look so cute together, I can’t bare the idea of actually using them though~

Pastel Animals Coin Purse

Next up is this cute pleather (imitation leather) coin purse that features an adorable animal on a soft pastel background. Each costs $2.90, and besides this sheep, there is also a pink bunny, a light blue squirrel (which oddly says “forest” despite being surrounded by cactus), and a mint one with dancing kitties.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

For a coin purse this is perfect. It has a nice clasp to keep it shut, and the inside is really soft, but I feel like it could collect dirt easily. As much as I don’t like yellow, I still think it’s pretty cute. It’s small enough to sit in a variety of locations and not get in the way.

I will note that there is an issue with the fabric, as you might be able to see in the pic; it’s like the material is deformed. I didn’t use this yet and it hasn’t been out of packaging or the box since I took the picture. I’m not really sure what caused it, and nothing seems to fix it.

San-X Corocoro Coronya Stickers & Kawaii Neko Letter Set

For $2.50, this is a sheet of Corocoro Coronya stickers featuring Coronya and his friends, and pretty gold line details. The sheet includes 70 stickers in total, and their smaller size makes them puurfect for dressing up plain items~

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

They’re so cute~ These would be perfect for resin projects if I was still doing them. When stickers include gold or glittery detail, I sometimes worry the sheet will end up being a mess (like the jinbeisan stickers I got a while back...). But this one is great! There are a few gold lined spots that are messy, but I would still give it an 8 or 9 out of 10.

Next is this cat letter set from the brand TreeinArt, a stationery and gift shop. There are 3 envelopes and 6 pages. I couldn’t find the exact one on Blippo.com, but I did see a unicorn set that looks like it for $2.90, so I’m going to assume that was what this one is too.

Both the paper and envelopes have a kitty design.

Rating: ♥ ♥

It’s very simple, but kind of cute still. But I kind of wish there was more to it than this this. Like I think it would have been cute if they had included a pencil and eraser (or an eraser on a pencil), or maybe a little sticker sheet to decorate it a bit more. I don’t know, to me it feels like it needs something...

Marumofubiyori Plush Pouch and Coin Purse

Our final item is this adorable Marumofubiyori pouch/coin purse. Available for $5.90, there are 4 different poses available, each one cuter than the last~

The inside of the pouch has a very soft mesh-like cloth in it, so it feels really nice to touch. The tag also includes little details on Marumofubiyori and his friends.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

With how many Marumobubiyori items that have been popping up lately in these boxes, I’ve quickly become a fan x3 they’re so precious. The quality on the pouch/purse is well done, although they used a slightly transparent white fabric (you can see the spots of his blanket through him). The applied blush is also an adorable touch~

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - ♥ ♥ ♥ Honestly I wasn’t feeling this box too much. I like a couple of the items, but it’s overall stationery theme was kind of bugging me. I love getting new pens and erasers, but did we really need all of the stationery basics in a single box?

Price - ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Some of the items I was a bit surprised over how pricey they were. But I’ve seen worse so it’s not too bad, and in total this box costed $32.50- and remember, the box itself only costs 17-19 dollars. So yeah, I’d say they were spoiling us with this one.

Theme - ♥ Nothing actually fit thanksgiving, like at all. A couple of items had Thanksgiving descriptions in them- but I felt like it was forced, and I’m sure there are ways they could have achieved something that felt like the holiday besides the cover art.

Total Rank: 4 out of 10 Cuties. This box felt completely underwhelming to me. It wasn’t bad and I’m probably being too critical, but compared to this one I felt like last months box was way better. I don’t have a problem with stationery, but I know for a fact they do have some food items that would have been perfect for a Thanksgiving box.

♥ Cutie Scale ♥

1. Sanrio Sakura Plush - I love love love love pink, and I love love love flowers! This is a perfect item for me ♥

2. Pastel Animals Coin Purse - As much as I dislike yellow I ended up really liking this purse a lot more than I thought I would. I really like pastels though so I think that plays a part in it. The sheep on mne is also just really cute.

3. Coronya Stickers - Looking at these just makes me want to sink my teeth into some delicious coronet~

4. Marumofubiyori Pouch - I kind of wish I got it in one of the other poses, but this one is still really kawaii~ I also like how soft the pouch is. I definitely want to start using this one.

5. Sushi Ink Pen - I really wish I would have gotten the rice ball one, but it’s still pretty cute. I love sushi, so sushi-themed items are automatically awesome in my books. Although looking at it too long is liable to make me hungry~

6. Memo Notes - The little girl design is pretty cute.

7. Molang Erasers - As cute as they are, the poses are generic. Plus I was an avid eraser collector as a child, I know I can’t use these. I’d hate to ruin them.

8. Sakura Calendar - I love how pretty it looks, but the folding flap on the bottom is kind of annoying. I don’t understand why they don’t work for me >3<

9. Gudetama Chocolate Bar - The package is pretty cute, but I’m tired of these.

10. Neko Letter Set - The images are cute but I really don’t see myself using it anytime soon.

#kawaiibox #sanrio #molang #marumofubiyori #gudetama #corocoro coronya

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edgyeggie · 5 years

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House Plants, Pests and Diseases

Indeed, even plants developed inside can be tormented by an assortment of nuisances and sicknesses.

To keep your accumulation seeing it's ideal, look out for the main indications of inconvenience. Assess your plants routinely, and make brief move against irritations and illnesses when any are found. Give close consideration to the undersides of leaves, for this is the place the nuisances frequently gather and organisms assault. Youthful plants are particularly in danger.

To http://www.petalsandplants.co.uk decrease the hazard, weed plants outside for they harbor bugs. Poor ventilation inside empowers parasitic illnesses, particularly where the temperature is low. In all cases, evacuate dead leaves and blossoms when you see them. (A long phone discussion is a decent chance to perform various tasks, you can review your plants while you are talking!)

Regular plant bugs:

• Aphids, otherwise called greenfly, plant lice and aphis (their logical name) are a standout amongst the most widely recognized plant bugs. A few plants appear to draw in them and few are safe. They are little bugs, shaded green, dark colored, dark or dim that suck the plant's sap and cause yellowing, mutilated leaves and poor development. Aphids emit a sticky, sugary substance considered honeydew whereupon a dark form regularly develops. The shape looks unattractive, however meddles with the leaves also. Exclusive foundational bug sprays function admirably.

• Mealy bugs. These are little, dark white investigates with wooly coats. Their eggs structure in wooly masses. Devastate them by swabbing with a cotton bud absorbed methylated soul or careful soul.

• Scale creepy crawlies. These plague stems and leaves. They are generally pale dark colored in shading and suck sap. They produce honeydew, similar to aphids, and debilitate the plant. Wipe the bugs off the plant utilizing a similar activity concerning coarse bugs.

• Ants. They frequently cause inconvenience in warm, sandy soil outside and they may enter the home and influence indoor plants. In spite of the fact that ants in themselves are not unsafe, they burrow through the dirt, slackening it and aggravating plant roots. They likewise convey aphids about, transporting these bugs starting with one plant then onto the next. Ants ought to be treated with restrictive subterranean insect lures and subterranean insect executioners.

Regular illnesses include:

Botrytis - Gray shape is one of the basic names for Botrytis cinerea, a growth that resembles a dark brown hairy form. At the point when a contaminated plant is exasperates, billows of fine residue ascend from it. The residue comprises of the spores of the organism. Cool, wet and still air gives the conditions to botrytis to assault sound plants. Improve ventilation and lower dampness around the influenced plant.

Mold - An extraordinary assortment of molds influence indoor plants. The indication is a grayish-white fine shape on stems, leaves and buds. Congestion and over-watering are basic causes. Better ventilation likewise makes a difference.

Rusts - Rusts are organisms that produce red-dark colored spots and fixes on leaves. Detach promptly and utilize a reasonable splash for the types of plant influenced.

Infection maladies - These illnesses cause mottling, hindering and twisting of leaves, and distortion and striping of blossoms. Infection ailments are effectively spread by taking care of contaminated plants. In the event that infection ailment is suspected, consume the influenced plant quickly to avoid it spreading to other people.

It is critical to detach a wiped out plant with the goal that whatever issue it has isn't exchanged to different plants in the gathering. My plant 'emergency clinic' is in a different live with an alternate perspective from its typical circumstance. This, in itself, appears to go about as a tonic, and I would recommend you move your plants around now and again regardless of whether they don't seem to have any issues.

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grs-the-neighborhood · 6 years

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The Misfits Chapter 3: Niko Part 1

A Few Years Ago

A young boy is walking home from school, after another gruelling day of negativity from his peers. He always felt like he were when his brother, Serpent, his mother, his Uncle Dipper being there to protect him: it’s why he didn’t feel comfortable when he had to go get stuff for mom when she wasn’t around. He was looking at a shopping list that his mom gave him.

“Let’s see, eggs, bacon, a carton of milk, chocolate bars, and bread,” he said.

“AaaaHHhhhhnnghh!” He heard a scream.

“What the heck!” he thought.

He dash and follow the sound of the scream, he see the stairs heading to what appear to be an abandoned subway station. It was covered in dust, mud, and musk because it hasn’t been running ages ago. Yet life still occurred, vines growing on the walls, cockroaches, and rats hiding, and a voice of pain can be heard. He followed it until he sees a little girl with cyan hair lying there and crying in pain. The boy quickly dash toward her. He gets close and sees her hands covered in deep scratches, her right ankle having a gash._

_ “Are you okay?” he asks, hoping to get an answer only to hear the little girl crying.

The boy doesn’t know what to do, he gives her his hand and the girl grabs his hand and stands up, pulling out wet wipes. As he’s wiping her face he takes in her features: she’s younger than him due to her size, her skin was brown, she was wearing a purple skirt with a black stripe going horizontally in the middle. She looks like she’s been here for weeks and hasn’t been fed for some time.When he was wiping her face, his eyes are filled with shock. The girl’s face is covered in blood but the red and blue veins did not obscure because they were glowing and her eyes are a mixture of creepy purple and green.

“What’s your name?” he said. The girl tries to think, but all she can do is groan in pain from thinking too much. The boy calms her down my stroking her hair.

“Niko.”

Now

A 15 year old girl is sleeping until…..

**Beep-Beep-Beep!!! **

An annoying sound of her alarm clock wakes her up. After hitting the snooze button with her red tail, she crawls out under her bed and yawn. She uses one of her hands to push her bang to look at the time. 6:00 AM. Her brother must have set the time for her. Her room is is filled with stuffed animals on the floor and crayons and papers scatter there as well. Photos of precious memories (her 8th birthday, Christmas with her big brother and her mom, and her big brother’s 13th birthday) on the purple walls. She look at the note she saw on her front door. Her brother must have write it. Niko grab the paper and swallow it in her whole mouth. She give a big smile.

“Today is DA day!”

She cheer, then she tripped herself on the floor.

“Oof!”

Niko went to the bathroom to brush her teeth with a purple toothbrush that have her name on it. She look at the mirror and sees her reflection: She has reddish-brown skin, cyan and white colored hair style in a bob with bangs covering her eyes, a red dinosaur-like tail. Niko touch her head to see if she have her horns. To her relief, her horns are not here, because she fear people might call her a freak. She look at her hands. Sometime her hands are claws and sometime human hands. She gasp and saw her claws, she started to panic, she took a deep breath and concentrate on reversing her claws back to hands. And she did it.

_It is still you. _

Niko grab the clothes she is going to wear for school in her drawer and head straight to check if her mom is there. Niko see her mom, a redhead, getting ready to go to work by dressing herself up in a lumberjack attire and donning her axe.

“Mom, is Ethan awake?” Niko asked.

Wendy look at her. “Hmm? I’m not sure, Niko. Can you wake your brother up? I am heading out. Be back at 5. I’m going to stay at work a little late, so make sure you tell Ethan to make dinner tonight, okay?”

She makes sure Niko remember by writing it down on paper and giving it to her.

“Okay mom.”, she answers, putting on her headband. It is blue with a pink heart on it. She is dressed in a purple shirt, white pant, and pink-purple boots. The problem was it that she put her purple shirt backwards. Niko didn’t notice this but her mom did. Smiling, Wendy helps her shirt on right.

“Niko, you gotta pay attention when you put your shirt on.” Wendy playfully chides.

“Sorry.” Niko apologizes, looking down in shame. Wendy bought her into a hug, cheering up, she knows her daughter had low self-esteem issues.

“It’s alright, sweetie”, she soothes, giving her daughter a kiss on the head.

“Make sure you tell Ethan what I said, Niko!” she shouts as she leaves out the door.

“Okay, mom.” Niko responds, eating the paper in order to remember what to tell her brother.

She opened her door and she is in a room, her brother’s. The room is covered in Fall Out Boy posters and movie posters of his favorite genres, sci-fi, crime noir, and horror taped on the wall. He also has piles of DVD on the shelf. Right as she was getting near his bed, she stepped on one of his DVD’s. She picked up; it read “No Country for Old Men” and she put it in the DVD shelf. She gets near the bed and sees her brother still sleeping, snoring like an old man. She walk toward him, stare at him for a moment.

“Brother get up, it is 7:30,” She whispers, but he doesn’t budge as he still snores.

She tries to wake him up again by pushing him, but it yields the same results. She puffs her cheeks realizing it’s become pointless to Ethan up. She tries to wake up Serpent.

“Serpent.”, Niko whispered, nothing happened. “Serpent!!”, she whispered and slowly, a dark blue ooze started to seep out of Ethan’s back. Serpent woke up.

“What is it, Niko?”, he grumbled, his eyespots blinking slowly.

“Can you wake Ethan up? It’s time to go to school.”

“.....Ethan is going to be late, sis. I’m pretty sure you don’t know, but he had a night terror last night. He’s going through a lot of emotions right now and I think it would be better if you let him sleep.”, Serpent explains.

“I love you two. I hope you guys get the chance to become heroes.” she thought.

Flashback

Niko was reading a book and heard the sound of the door open.

“Ethan?” She called.

She teleport and sees Ethan. She ran over and give him a hug, which oddly enough he didn’t return.

“Did you make a big impression to the Vanguard League?”, she asks her brother in joy.

But instead of seeing him in confidence, all she saw is depression, pain, and, especially, anger. He doesn’t say it, but she knows. She knows something horrible happened to Ethan.

“Ethan, what happen?”, she asks, worried for her brother. Ethan doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak for the first couple of minutes. He has his face down, so Niko can’t tell what he is feeling. He pulls a paper out of his back pocket and unfolds it. On top of the paper, it says on the top:

Rejection

“I….I didn't make it,” he chokes. Tears are dripping down his face as he continues.

“I didn’t understand why, but now....n-now, I do”. After that, he walks into his room and shuts the door. Niko tilted her head in confusion, but saddened by the news.

“I am so sorry,” she said, feeling sympathetic about how crushed her brother is..

On the Bus

As Niko got on the bus. She put her backpack on her seat and check the inside of her backpack to see if she have everything. Instead of unzipping her backpack she use her X-ray vision. Inside her purple backpack. Math Homeworks in her Math Textbook (with help from Andrew Cunningham), her completed Biology Worksheet (with the help from Ethan) inside her Biology textbook, her lunch bag, overdue library book, a bunny pencil case, and agenda.

The bus start to move. Niko check her phone she got out of her pocket and see a text message from Ethan.

Ethan: Niko, why didn't you wake me up!

Niko: 😟. I did, but Serpent said you have been emotionally stress.

Ethan:.....

Ethan: I am going to be late.

Niko: Ethan wait-

*Ethan left the conversion*

“Darn it,” she curses.

Just then, the bus stop, Niko look at the window and see a girl outside sitting on a bench. Niko examine her: She have brown skin like her, and depending on her height, she is possibly a year younger than her. She have eye are yellow like a sunflower petal. Her red hair is in pigtails. Her attire are a salmon pink sailor uniform top with a sky blue ribbon, short salmon pink skirt and thigh-high heeled white boots. She is wearing goggle probably because it is sunny outside. As she get on the bus, she remove her goggle. Niko grab her backpack, put it on her shoulder and slide down in hoping that she can sit down with her. Hoping that Niko can make a friend.

“Excuse me, do you want to sit down with me?” Said Niko. The young girl look at her and thought for a moment. “Okay,”

“I am Mari Salazar, what is your name?” Said the red pigtail girl,

“Niko Corduroy,” Niko reply.

“I am fifteen years old, I am a raised in Townville and live with my mom and big brother, Ethan. I loves to draws and drink milk,”

Mari giggle, she never see anyone one so energetic. Niko tilted her head in confusion. She wonder if she said something funny so she ask.

“What is so funny?” she ask.

“Oh nothing, for the first time in my first week in residing in Townsville, I never see anyone too excited.” She explains. “People will be scare of me or surprise and try to be on my good side if I mention about my father.” she explain.

Niko bow her head. She shouldn't have said too much, how ever she start to talk again.

“Your father?” she ask.

“My father is Rex Salazar and he is one of the greatest heroes of all time, he secret weapon for Providence, a global organization dedicated to protecting the world from rampaging EVOs. EVO stands for Exponentially Variegated Organism. They are organism that has had its intracellular-nanites activated.

Niko smile because she never knew that Mari is a child of a hero. She wonder if she can introduce Ethan to her. Maybe he can be friends with her too.

“So why did move to Townsville?” she said.

Mari blush a little. “Oh it is kind of personal but, I want to join The Vanguard League, so I can be a hero just like my dad, and one day work for Providence. However, I am not good at fighting, but I will try.” she answer.

“The Vanguard League,” Niko thought.

Niko remember the day, five months ago when Ethan is miserable because of his rejection from the Vanguard League. To make it worse, his friend, a member of The Vanguard League, Rénee wrote a letter to him that he can not join because of how dangerous Serpent was (even though to her, Serpent is a sweet and thoughtful person with an attitude) and also, the crimes that Ethan’s father did. She never met him and Ethan, her mom, and Uncle Dipper never talked to her about it. They might be the reason why he have night terrors last night and going through a lot of emotions right now. Niko tighten her fists.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she said to Mari. “Even if they are nice and accept many super-powered teenage heroes, they will shatter your hope, one way or another through a background check or one simple mistake.”

Mari looks at her, she looked angry at the moment. She wants to know but she believes it’s best not ask. Mari thinks about the Vanguard League and then her family. She thinks of the black sheep that is all alone in the shadow of the sunshine, her family and their legacy.

Lunch Break

As she return her library book and quickly ate her lunch, Niko head to the cafeteria, she hope that Mari is here eating her lunch. Niko starts thinking of conversations for another interaction with her when all of a sudden she accidently bump into someone. She realize it is Cayenne. Niko gulp in fear. She heard about Cayenne from her brother. Ethan doesn’t like Cayenne at all because of the constant insults she sends his way.

“Hey! Watch where you are going!” she said.

“I am sorry,” she whispers.

Cayenne glare at Niko eye-to-eye, but Niko's bang hide her eyes.

“Why your bangs covering your eyes, you look like a mop. Can't you get a haircut? Or at least put your bang up?”

“No.” Niko whimper.

Cayenne lift her eyebrow for a moment. Did that student said no to her.

“What did you say?” Cayenne demand.

“I said no.” Niko answer quietly.

“Louder?”

“No!” Niko yell.

Feeling annoyed, Cayenne raise her hand that is close to Niko. “If you are not going to let me see your eyes, let me do it for you,” “

Are you… touching me?” she said in fear.

As Cayenne lift her bang up to get a glimpse of her eyes without answering her question, Niko start to scream.

“AAAHHH!”

The students stop what they are doing to see what happen. Cayenne back off and glare at Niko as she kneel on the floor shivering.

“Do not touch me,” Niko said. “Why is this happening to me.”

“Fine, whatever weirdo.” she call her as she walk away. She start to mumbling words at Niko: “The only one you should blame for the situation you are in is yourself.”

Niko start to cry, she should have listen to her brother, but her meeting with her is unintentionally. Just then a she heard a male voice in a Irish accent.

“You are alright?” said the boy. Niko turn around and see Ryan, the emo and lone wolf of Townsville High.

She blush slightly. She cannot believe it got worse, her crush is talking to her. Instead of Ryan lending Niko a hand he just stand there and lend against a wall. He brush his rusted red hair that falls over his right eye with his hand.

“I am not,” she said honestly. “Cayenne touched me.”

Ryan didn't show any sympathy and instead he coldly said to her: “Whatever, like I give a damn.” He said.

“But why did you ask that I am okay?” Niko ask in confusion.

“Why do you care!?” Ryan snapped.

“Sorry.” said Niko and then look at the floor.

Just then a strawberry blond haired girl wearing a bell-shaped blue dress shirt with a pink flower in the center appear and recording a video on her phone.

“Story Time, it was clear that a romance was blossoming between them,” Ryan and Niko turn and see Vivian, still recording the cellphone.

“Vivian! Cut that crap, we are not in love!” said Ryan angrily. “

Aw can't you at least give her a kiss?” Vivian tease.

“Why don't you confess your love to Cayenne as soon as I break your phone?” Ryan said as a threat and a tease. He put in fists together to show her his rage.

As a moment of silent occurs, Vivian start to run.

“Get back here!” Ryan yell as he chase after her.

Niko’s cheek turn red as she is blushing when she heard the word, kiss. Just then Tamara Thunder come and see Niko lying on the floor.

“Niko, why are you on the floor?” she ask. Niko stand up and wipe her clothes. She look at Tamara and sadden.

“I’m sorry, Tamara. I just had a moment.”, she said in a mixture of sadness and self-loathe. Tamara looks at her and gives her a consoling frown.

“Hey, how ‘bout your big sis take you to class?, she grins. Niko gives her a returning smile.

“Thank you.”, she acknowledges. With the two girls walk to Niko’s classroom. When it comes to Ethan’s friends, Andrew and Tamara, they were basically Niko’s older siblings. Whether it was Andrew teaching her a little bit of martial arts or Tamara explaining to her how to be stand up for herself, she appreciates them. As Tamara take Niko to third period class she wave a goodbye.

Final Period: Biology

Niko sit on a black desk. She see a girl in front of her. She have wavy black hair, brown skin, and almond shaped black eyes. She is wearing a blue t-shirt and ankle-length jeans and shoes that are not fancy or athletic. She saw her reading a Biology Textbook. Niko look at her eraser labelled the name, Lauren Lee. Niko thought for a moment. Suddenly, her teacher come.

“Good Afternoon, class I hope you put your Biology worksheet on my desk,”

Niko's eyes are widen, she quickly open up her textbook, and found her worksheet and hand it over to her teacher. Then, she sit down.

“Thanks you, Niko. Where was I? Oh yes, we are going to start out anatomy unit. Let's start by dissecting fetal pigs. Everyone please find a partner to work with.”

As everyone gotten a partner, Niko just sit there and all alone hoping that someone will ask her. But sadly she did not, then her teacher glance at her with concern. Then she saw Lauren who is looking for anyone who don't have a partner also. Lauren has just been transferred to highschool level biology because of how outstanding her grades are in science that her classmates barely treated her equally, while Niko who need to have determination if she get the chance to graduate. So the teacher got a idea.

“Lauren is it okay for you to be with Niko?”

Lauren Lee stare at Niko. Niko wave shyly and give a big smile in hope to show her that she is harmless. Lauren thought for a moment she look at anyone who haven't have a partner and then look at her the teacher. She sighed, feeling in defeat.

“Okay,” As the teacher left.

Lauren tell Niko: “Since we are partners, you have to do exactly on what I am telling you.”

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

Niko sit down and watch as Lauren holding a sterile knife and cut sound the umbilical cord and in a “U” shape. Then, she cut the ribs and sternum with a bone cutters. She open up the chest cavity and look at it. Lauren ask her Niko to come to her. As Niko stand up to go be with her. She could smell the fresh smell of a preserved dead piglet. She see the inside of the pig's organs. It look messy. Is this what butcher do. “Niko see this membrane,” said Lauren as she point at the thin membrane around the heart.

“This membrane protect the heart. Write that down on your assignment sheet.” Niko obey her instruction and write it down. She keep standing there as Lauren continue to dissect the pig. Niko look at the clock and sighed. She never thought it would be boring. All she does is sit down while Lauren get the fetal pig, set up the dissection, and command Niko to write her notes.

“Lauren can I-”

“No.” Lauren interrupts.

Niko puff her cheeks, this is boring. But that give her an idea. As Lauren make a longitudinal cut through the throat toward the mouth, she try to remove the skin under the chin without cutting it too deep. She almost got it until Niko poke one of her shoulders. She turns around.

“Hey Lauren, look at me. Hee hee hee.” said Niko as she put two test tubes up her nostrils.

Lauren stop what she is doing and see Niko fooling around.

“Niko! Put them out of your nose, are you trying to make a fool of yourself and slack off?” she snapped. Niko shun for a moment. She put them out of her nose and apologize.

“I am sorry, it is just that I want to help you, but I am bored. You are doing the work while I have to sit down and copy your sheet in my own words. That is not teamwork.” Niko explain and then puff her cheeks, to show her partner how unfair she is and bored.

Lauren glare at her.

“That is because I am very focus on getting good grades, unlike some people,” she said coldly.

“I am not doing this for my parents, I am doing this for myself.” Niko glance at her.

“Are you saying I am dumb?” she ask.

“No, but you are slacking off.” Niko took a deep breath, she know that arguing isn't the answer, she need to act tough, just like her “sister”, Tamara taught her.

"Okay, then and whose fault is it for me to slack off? It is the leader, and do you know who is the leader? YOU!”

Lauren start to open her mouth, but then close it. She never see Niko so serious. She often see her drawing in class instead of listening to the lectures.

“If you want to have a good grade on this assignment and I want to do something, tell me not to sit around and have me do something!”

Lauren look at her even though her bang is covering her eyes. Lauren can not tell if she is serious or not, but her posture and the tone prove that she is seriously. Plus, she is telling the truth, she have been doing the work for herself and Niko, which means:

“Fine,” Lauren said as she give the knife to Niko. “You will dissect the fetal pig, and do not worry, I will guide.” Niko smile, it work.

“Thank you Tamara.”

3:00 PM, outside of school:

Niko wait for her brother to meet her so they can walk to school together. She wait, and wait, and wait until she feel like he is not coming. She grab her cell phone and send a text message to Ethan.

Me: Ethan where are you? I am waiting outside of school 😢.

Ethan: Niko I can not walk home with you. I am busy. Please take the bus.

Me: Okay. Thank You. Oh I almost forgot. Mom is going to be back at 5 PM. So you have to make dinner.

Ethan: Niko, you should have texted me in the morning? Why didn't you say anything? Niko: Sorry I forgot. Ethan: Ok. What do you want for dinner?

Me: 🌮

Ethan: Fine.

Me: I love You!

Ethan: Love you too.

Niko smile at the text and hug her cellphone with all her heart, she is lucky to have a big brother like him.

She saw Mari on the bus stop, but she is not alone, she is with a young man. She could not tell what the young man look like because of her bangs. Niko decide to take a closer look. Without hesitation, she start to walk to the bus stop. To her surprise, suddenly out of nowhere, an object covered in dark energy hit her face. She is knocked out for half an hour and wakes up, rubbing her face and feeling her forehead. There was a knot where she got hit and just when her eyes started to water, the bus showed up. She walked in, waiting for the bus to take her home. She couldn't understand, why was she hated.

However, she is not alone two people are in the same bus as her and they are sitting behind her, a young woman standing 5’ 10'’ have short magenta hair with an undercut, light green sclera and purple irises. She wear a shoulder black shirt tucked in loose light purple shorts and black combat boots. She also wear her golden choker sealed with a dark pink jewel, and two ear piercings, a golden hoop and dark pink stud to match. And next her is possibly her half brother, standing 5'2” whose have pointy ears, green eyes. His hair is spiky and "greenish-blue" in color and he has an average complexion. His signature attire is a red hoodie, blue jeans, red high-top converse shoes, and fingerless gloves. His jeans is held together by a dark gray belt, and a buckle with his initials.

The young woman smack him in the head feeling piss for what he did.

“Nice going Edward,” she said. “You just made her cry. We're supposed to heroes undercover and what did we do, knock out a girl.” she whisper as she look at Niko rubbing her eyes to stop tears from flowing in her eyes. She feels bad for what happen. The young man, Edward rub his head and look at her.

“Relax, Sarina, we must not let Mari blow her cover,” said Edward. “This is our chance to infiltrate Claymore, a thief wanted for stealing in five countries, Jump City and now Townsville that the Young Blood Alliance recruited.”

“She does not look dangerous!” Sarina exclaim to him as if she care more about the girl than the mission that Kingsley assigns them. “Plus, what if she just came to see Mari as a friend?”

Edward crossed his arm and glare at her. “Don't judge a book by it cover, she may look innocent, but I sense something dark within her. And you do too,” said Edward being serious about the mission.

Edward Logan also known as The Changer, and Sarina Roth, children of member of The Teen Titans, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire. They are affiliates of The Vanguard League recommended by Danielle Stone. They are task on a watching over Mari, a Vanguard Leaguard member-in-training in hope she can complete her mission to find and capture the thief who is a human EVO. If this succeed, they will become official member of the Vanguard League.

Edward Logan’s powers are different from his parents, Beast Boy and Raven. He may have telekinesis, but he have matter manipulation and thought projection. He know the basic moves of Martial Arts.

While his half sister, Sarina Roth inherit both her mom, Starfire and Raven's powers, Starbolts and Starwaves, Lazer eyes, Super Strength and flight is what she is most familiar with. She is attempting to learn Raven’s powers with slow progress. She is also very smart and uses this to analyze and critique problems and give solution to help people.

Sarina glance at Niko again, he might be right, but her psionic ability, empathy is eating her alive. She never seen anyone feeling self-loathing and facing hatred. This make Sarina feel like she want to explode.

“She’s just like me,” Sarina thought. “Being good without any benefits, and her still feeling like an outsider in the City of Townsville.” Sarina take a deep breath and let the air filled in her nostrils so that she won't let her powers unleash by her emotions.

Sarina look at the POW Card that Rénee, Vanguard League's Secretary of Knowledge gave to her. (Ever since Ken and Eiffel integrating Pow Card tech into the databases. It become very useful for them):

Name: Claymore Salazar

Level: - 7

Species: Human EVO

Alignment: Villain

Powers: the creation of dimensional portals that can connect any two places, and possibly the past and future.

Description: He is a government project between the old hero, Rex Salazar and Breach, an unstable human EVO. He was suppose to be the next gen weapon for the Providence until his mom escaped from the government facility. After, being rejected from his father, he lives a life of thievery by using his power.

“We need to find him immediately, who know what have he been doing?”

At home:

Niko walks back into the apartment complex, reaching the 3rd floor and heads to door number 310, unlocking it with her key. She closes the door, locking it in the process; she goes to the kitchen and finds an ice pack in the freezer and put it on her face. She plan to go to her room and try to find something to cover up her face so that her brother won't know, but then came trouble. As she heads to the living room, she sees her brother sitting on the couch. He turns his head, giving her an expression of worry.

“Niko, where were you?” Ethan said as if he have not see her for months. “It’s 4:45, mom and I have been worry about you, I wanted to search for you, but mom said to stay here in hope that you come home.”

“I was waiting for the bus,” Niko frown, sitting on the couch with him. Ethan look at her and saw Niko having an ice pack on her face. Ethan quickly push the ice pack away from her hand and to his eyes he saw a knot where she got hit.

“Who did this to you?” Ethan said as he put both of his arms around her shoulders, his face far from pleased.

“I don't know,” she answer.

“What do you mean,” he said as he raise his voice.

“I..Ii.. I was walking to the bus stop to wait for the bus and I saw Mari. She was talking to someone and suddenly out of nowhere, an object covered in dark energy hitted my face.” She explain.

Ethan let out an inhumanly growl, what kind of person used their super powers to hurt innocent people, especially his sister? He didn't know who “Mari” is maybe she must be behind this.

“Who is Mari?” Ethan ask another question.

“She is a friend I made today.” She said shyly.

At first Ethan is joy that Niko made a friend because she mostly go and eat her lunch alone and go to the library to read books or hang out with him and his friends, now she is growing up. But he need to know more about Mari.

“What is her last name?” he ask the fourth question. “Salazar, why?” she answer the fourth time.

“I am just interesting because what if she did this.” He said.

Niko's eyes are widen, Mari would never do that. Niko met her in the morning and she was nice. Is her brother going to tell her to avoid her?

“I do not think so, she was talking to someone else, a young man. Probably her new friend from school or a brother when I went on to the bus stop.” She expresses in hesitance.

Ethan pause for a moment. Niko bows her head and give a sigh.

“I am sorry for making you have a heart attack….” She said. “I know you have been emotionally stress recently because of a night terrors, school, and- It won't happen again. I promise,”

Then, Niko rub her left arm with her right hand feeling less confident on her promise because she feel like she will break her promise, so she said her final sentences.

“I hope because I might forget one day…..”

Ethan sadly smile and ruffled her hair.

“Don’t worry, sis. I’ll make sure you won’t.”

Lauren Lee and Edward Logan belong to @shorty-tori

Ethan Corduroy, Andrew Cunningham, and Tamara Thunder belong @ej-cappy-universe

Sarina Roth belong @aj-thegreatest

Violet, Mari, and Claymore @hotsassbacon

Ryan, Vivian, Cayenne, and Rénee @princesscallyie

Niko Corduroy and Munchausen Young belong to me

#stories #ej-cappy-universe #shorty-tori #hotsassbacon #aj-thegreatest #submission

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