#todays episode of me being unable to stop from committing to the bit.

[bigshotautos]

XxXEMO_LUV_4EVERXxX (for a collaboration with @jumblejunction!!!!!!!!!!!! )

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 10

Hello, and once again, I welcome you to Midnight Striga. Please, enjoy.

Perry Porter strode into the Covention Center, eyes easily panning across and compartmentalizing the tragic sights around him, a skill he picked up by virtue of sheer experience. Clinically, he noted the amount of bodies present, living and dead, as well as the brow-raising sight of what could only be human corpses, if the ears were any indicator. He felt a sinking sensation within his stomach; whatever had occurred today would rock the Isles to its core, of that he had no doubt.

Shaking his head, Perry scanned the crowd again, eyes widening at the sight of a hand waving him over. Rushing over, he slid to a stop in front of his son, Augustus; his silly, energetic, passionate, brilliant son, Augustus, alive and well. “This is Perry Porter, on the scene saying,” He started, before pulling Gus into a hug. “I am so happy you’re alright.” He sighed, relieved, feeling Gus relax into his grip.

“I-I am really glad you got here so quickly dad.” Gus choked out, a light sprinkling of tears in his eyes. “A lot’s happened, and I really, really want to talk with you about it, but something more important came up, and I think you can help out, you know?” He put on his bravest smile, trying to hold in the scream that was building ever since he had managed to process that yes, everything that had happened to today was all but over.

“I really think it would be best that I try and talk with you about what happened here,” Perry began, before noticing the stubborn expression on his son’s face, “But I can see that you won’t budge on this. So, shall we?” He calmly asked, gesturing for his son to lead the way, which he did with a beaming smile.

As they walked through the clinic, Perry idly noted the general behaviors of the people around him; there was his son’s friend, Willow Park, tearfully talking with her parents, a relieved smile on her face. There were the Blight Children, the two eldest tightly squeezing themselves around their younger sister, a baffled look on her face. He saw the crowds of crying, pleading, nervous faces all around. As his son led him into a backroom of the small clinic that had been established, Perry came face to face with three figures; the Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne, Eda the Owl Lady, and a human girl, all seated around a central table, gesturing for him to sit. As his son quickly saw himself out of the room, Perry had the sinking suspicion he was in a bit over his head.

After they explained the situation, as much as they could at least, Perry took a deep breath, holding in a sigh. They wanted his help to spread this information, which he could see the basis behind it- a group that invested this much effort into an attack wasn’t going to just stop and people needed to know about them- but the sheer depth of this reveal would completely change the social landscape of Bonesburough. “Very well, I agree to help with this. Do you have a plan for how we go about this?” He asked Lilith, who seemed to be trying a bit too hard to hold authority over this meeting, despite the lack of resistance from the other two.

Lilith nodded. “We have two real options at this point.” She said, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “We can either do multiple takes and present them later, or we can have this meeting broadcast live as breaking news.” She ticked off the options on her fingers, a grave look of contemplation upon her face. Lilith pursed her lips. “Personally, I favor the second option.”

That caught the group by surprise. “Huh, I honestly thought you’d prefer to get this all perfect and have it presented later.” Eda commented, arching a brow.

Lilith snorted. “Please, sister, give me some credit. The longer we go without addressing this, the more severe public unrest and hysteria will become. While the release of this information will certainly have its own consequences, those are still preferable to the people being left in the dark, and drawing more unsavory conclusions.” Lilith calmly stated, gaining impressed looks from the others.

Perry calmly assembled the equipment he would need, adding in his own take on the situation. “While an official report would normally be prepared by the Emperor’s Coven,” He carefully ignored Eda’s derisive snort, “that would be contingent on them possessing factual information to present. Without it, anything they provided would be woefully inadequate for informing the people. While a Live Report of this interview will most certainly cause a stir, it will ultimately be a mere fraction of what would result if the Emperor’s Coven issued a report that ultimately proved to be false in some capacity.” The group blinked, but, after mulling it over, agreed with what he said; it made sense, if people placed trust in an organization and it failed them, whether as a result of malice or otherwise, there would be backlash.

Perry clapped his hands. “So! Let’s begin, shall we?” They all shared a look, and nodded.

As they gathered around the table, Lilith leaned forward. “Now then, human, it’s time for you to answer my questions. The People of the Isles are dying to hear what you have to say.”

Luz gave a challenging grin. “Ask away. I’m all ears.”

Taking that as his cue, Perry started up the broadcast. Turning the camera to himself, he began, voice grave. “To all the citizens of the Boiling Isles, this is Breaking News, Live from the Covention. I am Perry Porter, reporting on behalf of Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne.” He paused, allowing the prepared footage to play across the crystal balls of all watching; the broken walls and shattered stands, the caged prisoners held under guard, and the bodies of all those who’d died, some gathered together for examination, others… not so much. He continued. “Today, tragedy has struck. For the first time since Emperor Belos’ ascendancy, an organized attack on our people has been committed. Of the over 2000 attendees, approximately half have been slain, and a third of the remainder have sustained moderate to severe injuries. Many of them were children. Of the 300 Coven Guards assigned to the Covention, over half of them have died, with all but a quarter sporting severe injuries.”

“What is most shocking, however, is that those claiming responsibility, a group known as the Black Dog Squadron, working on behalf of a group or individual known as Oroboros, are humans. That’s right, humans!!” Perry exclaimed, milking the drama a bit more than he liked, but needing to keep the audience invested; tragedy could only captivate for so long. “During the attack, all displayed some form of magic, but none, bar a handful who commanded Plant Magic, utilized any of the Nine Magics. How is this possible? Why did this happen? What will we, as a society, do next? To help answer these questions, Lilith Clawthorne has initiated an interview with a human who fought on behalf of our people, one Luz Noceda.” He knew that the girl’s image was now emblazoned across every crystal ball on the Isles at this very moment, leading further weight to his broadcast, in theory at least. “I am here with Coven Head Lilith herself,” He indicated the prominent Witch, who raised her hand to the audience. “To broadcast the interview to you all. Please be advised, some of what may be discussed may be shocking to some viewers.” With his part finished for the moment, Perry fell silent, allowing the broadcast to focus on the interview, more of an interrogation really, going on in the room.

“To ensure that what you say is true,” Lilith began, cutting right to the chase. “I must insist that you swear an Unbreakable Vow to that effect. This way, none can claim you are attempting to deceive us. Is that acceptable?” She asked, holding her hand out to begin forming the spell.

Luz raised an eyebrow, but saw no problem with the spell. She shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.” She said bluntly, prompting a nod from Lilith as she formed the spell. When the circle was completed, the two shook hands through it, sealing the oath. Luz was blissfully unaware of the shock rippling through the Isles, as now none would be able to refute or deny her words without looking insane or foolish. She had effectively solidified her legitimacy irrefutably in a single instant.

“Excellent.” Lilith replied, a grim smile playing across her face. She began. “First of all, I must ask, for how long have humans been capable of magic?”

Luz gave a shrug. “I can’t give you an exact figure, but at least 700 years, most likely more.” She said, unaware and uncaring of the shock that erupted at her statement. Even Lilith wasn’t totally immune, managing to school her features, expertly concealing the bewildered shock at the girl’s reply.

Lilith cleared her throat, forcing her instinctive urge to dive into the historical implications of that statement. As calmly as she could, she continued. “I see. How is magic utilized in Human Society?”

Luz tilted her head a bit. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that. There are a lot of Human Societies, all of whom have magic capable individuals, and all have their own ways of doing things. A benefit of being the dominant species in our world, is that we can afford to divide ourselves into a LOT of individual cultures and communities.”

Lilith paled at that, unable to stop the question that bubbled up in response. “Just… how many humans are in existence, exactly?”

Luz pondered that for a moment before replying. “I can’t give you an exact number, but I’d say there’s about several hundred million of us. Our world is big, and there are very few places we can’t survive on it.”

Internally shaking her head, and forcing herself not to focus on all the implications that came to mind, Lilith continued with her questions. “What is this Oroboros that the attackers claimed to be working for?”

Luz’s eyes sharpened, a burning hate filling her eyes, enough that even those watching at home suddenly felt very unsafe at the moment. “Oroboros is a criminal organization; specifically, they are the single largest Dark Guild active in the world right now. Oroboros prides itself on its ability to seize control and orchestrate things to its own benefit, without any regard for the harm and chaos that erupts in their wake. Cruelty and brutality are prized and cultivated among their members, almost as much as magical power is. No crime is too heinous, no line too sacred for them to cross.” She hissed out, the pure malicious hate coloring her tone forcing Lilith to gulp in nervousness.

“I see.” And Lilith did see. She had personally borne witness to the aftermath of that cruelty and indifference; however, Luz’s response brought another question to mind, one she felt she needed an answer to. She narrowed her eyes. “Edalyn told me you would be an excellent source of information for this. So far, you have proven to be so, even if my questions have not been exacting enough to gain satisfactory answers as of yet. But that response of yours has me thinking. How do you know about Oroboros, Miss Noceda?” Lilith inquired, eyes focused.

Luz raised an eyebrow, stood up, and turned around. After ensuring her back was presented to the broadcast, she reached back, and pulled down at the back of her outfit. Seared into her flesh lay a symbol, a serpent arranged into a Sideways eight, biting its own tail. “I used to be a member.” Luz said, voice dead and hollow. She turned a heartbreakingly sad smile towards Lilith. “Specifically, I was a member under protest.”

“Elaborate.” Lilith ordered, voice hard and unrelenting. She could feel the urge to bring out her staff and blast this child into oblivion, but tamped it down. She didn’t have all the information yet.

Luz gave a chuckle, bitter and full of the kind of spite that made people glad for what they had. “Oroboros has no limits to what they are willing to do, and that extends to what lengths they are willing to go to for recruits. Whenever someone with a useful skill or magic appears in their information network, they send out recruiters. For those with a few too many morals, such as myself, they like to employ a more… decisive argument.” She turned an empty smile upwards, oblivious to the daggers Lilith was glaring her way. “Oroboros kidnapped my sister, and used her as a hostage to keep me in line.” Lilith froze, unblinking.

Luz continued, oblivious. “Whenever I talked back, Vee was beaten. Whenever I failed an assignment, she had a bone broken. Whenever I completed a job, she got a good meal, after having been starved and deprived of water to just short of death that is.” She smirked, an angry, tired thing. “I hated myself. I wanted to die. I only kept living for her. And then she died; one of her guards decided they wanted to have a little fun with her, and the next anyone knew, the guard was dead, and my sister had a knife in her liver. I was free in the worst way possible.”

Stunned silence rang throughout the Isles, such that even Lilith herself was rendered speechless. Forcing herself to speak, Lilith asked the next question on her mind, one she felt the Isles would wish to know. “Should we consider this an act of War from the Human Realm?”

Luz blinked. Then, she laughed; a deep, cackling laugh filled with so much loathing and misery it was genuinely astonishing a living being could make such a sound. “No. Or at least, not the way you’re thinking. Oroboros is in no way affiliated with any form of Government or Ruling power. It’s a criminal organization that supports itself alone.” She gave a poisonous smile. “While I have no way of knowing if any Human Governments know about the Isles, I can assure you that none of them were involved in this.”

“Well, that’s something good at least.” Lilith said dryly. “What can you tell us about Oroboros in regards to how it is structured?”

Luz leaned back, gathering her memories on the subject. “Oroboros originally began as a Dark Guild that took jobs that other Dark Guilds shied away from, stuff that was extremely messed up and depraved in what was involved to go about them. When the big three Dark Guilds were dismantled, Oroboros clawed its way to the top of the heap after all the infighting died down. After that, they started breaking down and assimilating other Dark Guilds that they thought might be useful. You actually met one of them out there.” Luz offhandedly mentioned.

“Truly?” Lilith broached.

“Yup.” Luz nodded. “Before they became the Black Dog Squadron, the Squad was originally a guild in its own right, Barghast. Barghast was a mercenary guild at first, selling the services of its members as soldiers and fighters to the highest bidder, with an emphasis on fighting in wars. But when the local groups started fighting less, Barghast decided it would be better to start the wars they fought, and sell their services to both sides to keep the conflict going longer.” Luz smiled at that. It was not a nice smile. “When their little scheme came to light, they were branded a Dark Guild and went on the run, before being absorbed into Oroboros.”

Luz leaned forward. “Oroboros likes to present itself as one big unit, and while it can act like one in the field, Oroboros is full of splintered factions and units. The Black Dog Squadron is one of the neutral factions, actually; they don’t care which faction is using them, just as long as they can cause as much suffering and bloodshed as possible. I was an unaligned member, mostly because none of the Squadrons trusted a conscript like me not to stab them in the back, so I didn’t really work with any of the Factions or Squads outside of being paired with them for missions. My jobs were assassinations, thefts, and… less savory things.” Luz admitted, eyes downcast. Tears pooled in her eyes, dripping onto the table.

Lilith pursed her lips, feeling unwilling to judge the girl for compromising herself in the name of her loved ones; if anything, she was impressed the girl had the sense of self not to justify the atrocities she had done as anything other than what they were, a means of sparing the life of her loved one at the expense of others, and felt remorse over having done so. Still, she had two pressing questions to ask. “I must ask, you keep referencing Oroboros as a Dark Guild. Just what is a Guild?”

Luz slumped, feeling spent from the roller-coaster of loathing that always came when she thought about… all she had done. “Guilds are the Human Version of your Coven System, if far less restrictive. I won’t go too far into it, that would take way too much time, but Dark Guilds are essentially guilds that flout the laws that govern what Guilds can and cannot do, and actively have their members engage in crimes. If I had to give a close equivalent, Dark Guilds are basically for us what an Assassin Coven or Thief Coven would be for you. An organized effort to commit crime with little to no regard for who would be hurt as a result.”

Lilith felt a chill run up her spine at the thought. The idea of the Coven System being twisted like that, perverted into a warped, criminal mirror of itself, made her shudder; the implications of what such a thing could do, producing criminals whose magic was specialized to enabling criminal acts… it was a horrifying thought. Lilith swallowed, before jumping into her last question. “I thank you for agreeing to this; some of what you’ve revealed could not have been easy for you. But… I must ask you this; can we count on you to aid us against Oroboros?” She peered forth, unknowingly mimicking the apprehension of many of the citizens watching.

Luz gave her a smoldering glare. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ve already seen enough misery because of Oroboros. I won’t let them do as they please anymore, not while I can do something about it.” Luz paused, a thought coming to mind. “Huh, this reminds me of something my teacher said while I was training.”

Lilith raised any eyebrow. “Oh?”

Luz gave Lilith a soft, tired smile. “Yeah.” She reached up, rolling back her sleeve; Lilith recoiled at the sight. From her elbow to her shoulder, Luz’s arm was a maze of scar tissue, deep gouges and rents woven through the veil of poorly healed flesh; the fact she could use her arm without issue was awe-inspiring, when one considered the pain she must feel every day from such an injury. “I got this when I first tried using my Magic in a combat situation. I was fighting a monster that was bothering some of the fields near the village I was staying at during my training. I had barely been training for a week, having only just barely made a proper spell for the first time less than a day ago. The monster dashed me against a cliff, driving my arm so deep against the stone that it started scraping bone. If my teacher hadn’t intervened, it would’ve eaten me.” She turned to Lilith, sober eyes burning with shame. “I was an idiot. My teacher made sure I remembered that. What they said to me that day, I’ll never forget.” Luz leaned back, before reciting something with the air of quotation. “‘Magic is an unreasonable force. It is wondrous and horrific. It cares nothing for good or evil, or the intentions of those who use it. If you wish to put your skills to such a task as fighting for truth and justice, grow strong. Otherwise, you’ll never be anything more than prey for those with less moral compunctions than you.’” Luz gazed fondly at the ceiling, tears pooling at the memory. “Ever since that day, I swore I would never let myself be too weak to stand up for myself, or what I believe in. I would be strong enough that I could protect others, but also to protect myself.” She gave a chuckle. “Things didn’t work out too well for that promise.”

Lilith just looked on with pity, before turning to Perry. “I think that would be a good point to end the interview. At least for today.”

“Indeed.” Perry nodded. “Well then, you heard it here first, Citizens.-”

“What are you doing?” Lilith queried.

Perry blinked. “I’m… ending the broadcast.”

Lilith shook her head. “Not yet. I still have one thing left to do.” She beckoned her sister forth, who had been silently looking on as the interview went on. Eda’s mind was brimming with questions for Luz, but she was willing to put it aside for when they got back home. For now, she had her sister to deal with. Lilith gazed upon her sister, an unreadable look in her eye. “Earlier, when you defeated me in a Witch’s Duel, your request for your win was that I would tell the truth about your curse to the public, dispelling the official story. We even swore an unbreakable vow over it.” She held up her arm for emphasis, her arm flashing with a white ring. An ominous smile graced her features. “Well, I do believe a live broadcast all across the Isles is certainly public, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, it is. And I’m glad you’re not putting it off, I am! But… are you feeling okay sis? You seem a little out of it.” Eda asked, genuine concern coloring her voice. The hysterical laugh Lilith gave just added to that concern.

“Oh Edalyn, if you only knew.” She said, wiping away a tear from her outburst, before sobering. “But then, I suppose you will in a moment.” Turning to the broadcast, Lilith braced herself, fully willing to bear the backlash her actions would cause against herself and the Coven from this. “Citizens of the Isles, I, Coven Head Lilith Clawthorne, stand before you to reveal a bitter truth. For years, the story of the Owl Lady has been told, how her defiance and dismissal of the Coven System was punished by the Titan. That story… it is a lie.” She bluntly stated, almost feeling the gasps rippling through the Isles. “The Emperor’s Coven itself has no knowledge of how Edalyn was cursed, but it was most certainly no work of the Titan, or its will.” A mysterious smile, almost beatific were it not so filled with pain, crossed her features. “The one responsible for Eda Clawthorne’s curse was a witch. Specifically… the one responsible was myself.” Lilith felt more than saw Eda freeze up beside her. She could see it now on Perry’s own face, the look of horror, accusation, dumbfounded shock. 

Lilith turned to Eda, feeling an almost spiteful glee at the look of horror, denial, and hurt that crossed her features. “Y-your lying, Lily. You-” Eda stuttered (Edalyn stuttered!), denial and shock filling her voice. Lilith slowly stroked Eda’s cheek, an almost tender gesture.

“Edalyn, we both know that, for all your hatred of the rules and authority, you are far smarter than this. You know I can’t be lying.” Lilith said, just barely loud enough for the broadcast to pick up. “Think about it, you’ve surely pieced it together after all this time. Who else could’ve gotten into your room to curse you? Who else would’ve had reason to curse you?” Eda shook her head, denial still burned across her features, backing away from Lilith.

“Why?” Eda hissed out, forcing it through the denial. “Why would you do this!? To me!? TO YOUR FAMILY!?!?” She screamed, hurt and rage finally making themselves known in full.

Lilith chuckled, the same bitter, empty laugh Luz herself had used previously when discussing her failings. “Because you were going to win, dear sister!” Lilith cried, almost relishing the horror on Eda’s face, were it not for how sick she felt at it all. “We were set to fight for a place in the Emperor’s Coven, and you would win!! I knew you would!! You were the prodigy, the gifted genius that everything came so easily to when you bothered to try, the powerhouse who could already level buildings at the age of TWELVE!!!” Lilith felt the tears coming, the bitter, hot tears of her own weakness surging forth. “I was the one who wanted to serve the Isles, I was the one who wanted to help people!!!! You only cared about joining the Coven so you wouldn’t have to give up any magic! So why should I have given up my dream, my future, for you!?”

“I ONLY WANTED TO BE PART OF THE COVEN TO SUPPORT YOU!!!” Eda cried, her own angry, hurt-filled tears flowing. “All I wanted was to support you, to give you the future you deserved!!” She shook her head, anger and shame filling her heart.

“I KNOW!!” Lilith shrieked. “I Knew it then, and I know it now!!” The tears were like waterfalls now, bitter pain coating her every word. “But I couldn’t accept it, the idea that you, someone who so effortlessly and deliberately flouted the rules, would have what I wanted, what I dreamed of! How could I have known that you would forfeit, how could anyone!? A position in the most prestigious and influential of covens, and you throwing it away for me!?” She shook her head. “No. I didn’t believe you could be that selfless.”

Eda gave a bitter snort. “And I didn’t believe you could be that selfish. I guess we were both surprised.” Not staying to hear another word, Eda grabbed Luz, who wordlessly followed her, and stormed off. Luz shot Lilith a look of empty disappointment. It was exactly what Lilith deserved.

Lilith turned to the still running broadcast, a blank smile on her face. “And you’ve heard it here first, folks.” Lilith mockingly imitated the standard reporter line. “The Enforcer of the Emperor’s Will is a cheat, scum who would betray her own family, and a fraud. What a shocking revelation, is it not?” She wandered off, tears still streaming. Perry wordlessly cut the broadcast. He suddenly felt the need to give his son the biggest hug of all time.

All across the Isles, people were reacting to the horrifying news. Some focusing on some parts over others, of course, but none could deny that the Special Report was on everyone’s minds.

“This is unacceptable!!” Kikimora cried, frantically pacing in front of the Emperor’s Throne, heedless of her standard deference. “How could Coven Head Clawthorne reveal such sensitive information through a broadcast of all things!? Your Highness, this mutiny cannot stand!!” Normally, Kikimora would never be so blatant and emotional in front of her lord, but she felt now, of all times, was the best moment to voice her worries.

“Hmm… it seems I must adjust some of my plans.” Belos murmured. While Lilith publicly revealing the secret she so fervently guarded was certainly a surprise, if anything the revelation of her obsession should make her even more fervent in her future attempts to apprehend her sister. The revelations of Human Realm Magic now infesting his realm… oh he would definitely need to broach this carefully, but his ultimate goal remained unchanged. Wild Magic would be PURGED from the Titan, that was non-negotiable. But the revelation of Human Magic would certainly prove a useful tool for later…

“My lord!?” Kikimora frantically pleaded.

Hunter contemplated the revelations he had just witnessed. Humans were capable of magic, something deemed impossible. If it was possible for them… could it prove possible for himself? Something to think about for later. Right now, he had to attend to his Emperor. He owed the man everything, and this did not change that fact. He would probably have to keep a closer eye on Lilith though,

Alador calmly adjusted the latest adaptation to the Abomiton project, carefully tuning out his wife’s frantic screams and rage. She would burn herself down, if not out, in a little while, and then he would intercede. For the moment, he needed to properly calibrate the Coiled Composition System, truly a marvel really; if it worked properly, even the lowest quality of Abomitons would be a force to be reckoned with.

Odalia slammed herself down across from Alador with a huff, blistering rage burning in her eyes. “Well, at least now we know who our mysterious clients are.” She bit out, forcing herself to calm down with a cup of tea. Alador merely raised an eyebrow. He would see what she said in full, before replying. Odalia chuckled, a nasty, angry sounding thing. “It truly makes sense, you know. Such mysterious customers, wanting such a variety of goods and supplies! And they turned out to be murderous criminals. Fitting.”

“Will we stop supplying them, then?” Alador faux-absentmindedly asked. He had a feeling as to what she would say, but it was still imperative he hear it in truth first.

Odalia snorted. “No. We’ll keep selling to them. We’ll just covertly sabotage the goods we grant them, and use our dealings to pump them for information. Once we’ve gained everything we can, we use the resources we’ve acquired in our dealings to crush them.” Her eyes sharpened. “They endangered our children. Our FAMILY. They will not be allowed to survive for this offense.” Alador gravely nodded. Oroboros had made a crucial mistake already. They’d tried to challenge the Blight family, and harm their children. There would be a reckoning for this sin, of that neither Blight had any doubts.

Raine Whispers was conflicted. On the one hand, they now knew who had cursed Eda, and their heart went out to their old flame about what she must be going through. On the other, more clinically minded hand, the revelation that Humans could wield magic was in itself a massive blow to Belos’ authority, particularly in regards to his edicts on magic and the Titan. It was certainly something to explore for the future. For the moment, they had to get to their meeting. If all went well, they would finally, finally have prospective members willing to step out of the shadows with them. To be honest, that Katya girl had seemed almost too eager to join up, but they would at least give her a chance to step back and explain before making… hasty judgments.

Eda slammed the bottle of Appleblood back, her tears pouring down as fast as the heavy beverage went down her throat. It still hurt. Luz cuddled up to her, lending a comforting presence, King sitting on her lap. Words could wait. The three of them had enough pain to work through. Eda allowed a small smile to cross her features. At least they had each other to share the burden.

[wangxiandecoded]

Episode 7 (& Wangxian Meta)

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

The Chosen Ones

Lan Zhan, if this scene foreshadows anything, it’s that he’s certainly going to become a part of your domestic affair.

There is something powerful about the first and only female Lan clan leader giving them her blessing and saying it was destiny that they found their way to her just as she’s about to fade into oblivion. Wangxian are the archetypal Chosen Ones who have been entrusted with keeping the Yin Iron safe. And if this was yet another straight adventure story that delivers poetic justice, we would expect it to conclude with these two people ending up together - and that’s what The Untamed does in a roundabout way with our heroes.

Nothing to see here. Just two guys tripping over each other because the sacred string of fate pulled them towards each other.

Lan Zhan, I’ll Be Your Secret Keeper!

This episode is full of instances where Wei Ying refuses to tell other characters what really happened in the cave, then turns around to look at Lan Zhan with a proud look that screams, “I’m so good at keeping secrets, aren’t I? We are soulmates! Come on, validate me, Lan Zhan!”

The expression on Lan Qiren’s face when Wei Ying calls Lan Zhan his confidant/soulmate. No words are needed. 

The Yin Iron Secret™ is obviously bringing them closer and they begin to share loaded glances that convey everything they wish to say without actually having to. Thus begins the process of everyone third wheeling Wangxian.

Jiang Cheng thinks Wei Ying should move into the Cloud Recesses since he’s hanging out with Lan Zhan all the time. Lan Zhan hears that and appears to be a tad bit disappointed Wei Ying might never actually do that since their lifestyles are leagues apart. It’s tough being Wei Wuxian sometimes.

The Lantern That Started Everything

We are here, folks! The moment that started it all, the scene that defined Wangxian’s story. Once again, Wangxian are framed in contrast with the two straight couples. 

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are standing together and look at each other while making their wish, just like Yanli x Jin Zixuan, and Jiang Cheng x Wen Qing.

Lan Zhan says he is used to doing it alone and Wei Ying comments old habits can be changed, which just points to the latter’s impact on the former’s life.

Wei Ying has another accomplishment to cross off his list : Finally made Lan Zhan smile today!

Mian Mian asks Yanli why she didn’t make the lantern together with Jin Zixuan, as praying together is a custom followed by couples that are to be married. And that tells you everything you need to know about Lan Zhan and Wei Ying’s relationship.   

The first of many times that Lan Zhan rushes in to hold Wei Ying back.

Lan Zhan for a second believed Wei Ying finally learnt his lessons and crossed over to the lawful good side.. but come on, you love him precisely because he would never do that. And those ants are cute.

Jiang Fengmian proposes to cancel the troth between the clans to marry Yanli and Jin Zixuan. It is worth mentioning that Jiang clan’s approach to marriage is to never force their kids into a lifelong relationship they are not sure they want as they believe in “following one’s nature”. When even straight relationships are progressive and value happiness above all else, what is to stop the show from selling us a central gay romance that ends happily? Absolutely nothing.

We’ve now seen both the protagonists reject the romantic idea of spending their life with a woman. 

Missing Lan Zhan Hours Now Open

Wei Ying pouting like.. What do you mean we have to leave already? Lan Zhan literally just started acknowledging me as his soulmate. 

Oh no, Lan Zhan.. Why aren’t you including your soulmate on the super secret plan™?!

Wei Ying’s reason for wanting to say goodbye to only Lan Zhan out of all the disciples is, “Why can’t I admire his talents? You’re all losers who can’t fight me and he is my Match (Made In Heaven), I desire for an equivalence (and a meaningful union between souls.)”

The camera moves from the Yunmeng siblings squabbling to Lan Zhan observing them from a distance. Zewu Jun joins him and comments that after Wei Ying’s departure, Yun Shen will be silent once more. Lan Zhan’s face falls a little, understandably because he was getting more than used to Wei Ying’s chaotic presence in his life.

Zewu Jun is worried if Lan Zhan will be alright on his journey alone and raises the idea if he should tell Wei Ying about his quest. But Lan Zhan, our beloved idiot, still needs that extra push to come to terms with his feelings and realize Wei Ying will instantly drop everything for a lifetime by his side if he were to only say the word.

Rabbits Symbolise The Chinese Gay God

Even before the fandom taught me that the Chinese god of homosexuality is literally The Rabbit God, so the inclusion of rabbits is gloriously queer subtext, I could gather that they symbolised Wangxian’s feelings for each other. They both talk to the rabbits when the other is not there, Wei Ying paints a rabbit lantern for them to wish together, Lan Zhan raised Ah Yuan among these rabbits because they reminded him of Wei Ying and after 16 years, Lan Zhan drunkenly admits he likes rabbits (the equivalent of saying he’s always liked Wei Ying), they buy the rabbit lantern together and finally come back to find these rabbits in Cloud Recesses. The rabbits are a part of the Wangxian family.

The reappearance of the rabbits when Lan Zhan and Wei Ying’s dynamics have changed 16 years later is very telling. Their relationship by then has survived death and the miraculous return from death; it’s gone through the whole cycle of the promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption. The rabbits bring their life full circle to denote the certainty and comfort in the fact that they have each other after the trials and tribulations their romance has withstood. Wei Ying even says he isn’t scared of what happens anymore in that scene. There is nothing that can separate our heroes after this, they just have to brave whatever comes together.

And then there’s this promo picture and scene from a later episode where two rabbits are kissing.

This is how The Untamed screamed gay rights : “We’re not saying the heroes are gay, but the Yunshen rabbits are definitely gay and no one can do anything about it!” Only, the rabbits are such a huge part of this love story. 

Wangxian’s Promise of Love and Honor

When they make the wish together, Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying with a kind of awe and reverence like, how did I not recognize him from the moment we met? He eyes the pouch containing the Yin metal and realizes they are both more alike than he thought, that this guy is possibly and most definitely his soulmate. This is an important stage in their relationship.

When he hears Wei Ying wish that he wants to eliminate evil and protect the weak in exchange for a life without anything weighing down their hearts - I think it is at this point he begins to see him as more of a life partner with whom he can share everything, than just a friend. Because Wei Ying’s impact on Lan Zhan’s life is so profound it alters his being, tilts his axis and expands his perspective. Wei Ying brought with him a free-spirited, flexible measurement of morality and an ardent quest for truth that no 3000 rules of the Lan clan had ever laid down. He realizes the rules he grew up on are right but Wei Ying, with all his moral complexity, can also be right. Wei Ying’s companionship introduced Lan Zhan to a fluid perception of right and wrong that he found perfectly acceptable. This shows Lan Zhan and Wei Ying belong to the new generation that is here to reform the broken system built by their ancestors. In this moment, by choosing to view him as his unequivocal soulmate, by acknowledging their paths are to be forever intertwined, Lan Zhan liberates his mind from the monochromatic perception of life he was brought up on. By making this wish together, Lan Zhan trusts Wei Ying to always do the right thing from now on and trusts the both of them to lead a life that they are proud of.

He doesn’t know right now that staying committed to this wish is going to demand everything from them in the future, but he does know that Wei Ying is the greatest person he has ever met and the first one who is so compatible with him. And that is a revelation to Lan Zhan because there are easily a million things that set them apart. All the same, he sees his own core values reflected in his soulmate. He decides it couldn’t be the worst thing in this world to stand by Wei Ying’s side especially when he’s doing the most honorable thing they both know to be true. This common ground means something to Lan Zhan, even if we don’t hear him admit that. Because here is Wei Ying telling him he doesn’t need to be alone anymore even though he’s used to it. That he doesn’t have to go through any of it alone as long as he is there: fight for justice, vanquish evil, or even simply go through everyday life. Lan Zhan’s face in this scene is understandably the face of a man who is falling in love.

The promise they make to each other on this cliff was in a way, a promise to follow their own path that ended up operating above the constraints of and reinvented the cultivation world’s jurisdiction. There are going to be many forces trying to convince them it's not the right way, but the path they share, which is both the literal path of justice and their love for each other (they are synonymous, after all) is the one they courageously forge and painfully commit to when their world is unable to go on existing with the faulty principles it was founded on. That is why their romance survives every obstacle in the end. It is founded on a love that runs so deep it recognizes and respects the other in the many lifetimes spent serving their just cause. Their love, and the extents it goes to in order to thrive, is the answer to all the troubles that ail their world. And it all began with this lantern. 

This is why The Untamed is the gay drama and Wangxian are the gay warriors the universe has been waiting for. It staged gay romance in a realm ruled by gentry and the supernatural, giving us equal parts of gore as there is swashbuckling, gut-wrenching drama. Literally never been done before.

In conclusion, Episode 7 deepens the bond between our heroes and sets up the main struggle in their romance as we wait to see what will become of the wish they made together. But one thing is clear : They are bound together forever, not just by their love for each other but also by their common cause. That is why the road they walk on can never be different. It will forever be the single plank road they will always find their way back to.

[tw-anchor]

35. Emotional Tethers

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x11; Alpha Pact

Word Count: 7,880

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, human sacrifices, Scott’s asshole dad, 

Author’s Note: I’m updating with a new chapter today because I’ve been gone for a while and I need to play catch up. My grandma died, so I haven’t been very motivated lately. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you think, reblog, and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

"Derek?!" Stiles shouted and he sounded so terrified it broke Olivia's heart. He slapped his hand down on Derek's cheek to stir him awake. "Derek, come on!"

Olivia shook her cousin's body while Stiles kept on hitting him. She didn't know if it was because Stiles was scared or taking his anger out on Derek for Jennifer's disappearance, but damn, he was putting all of his strength into his blows.

"Derek, wake up," Olivia shook him again. "Derek!"

Stiles curled his open hand into a fist and reared back, ready to punch Derek awake. Just as his arm reamed forward, Derek lifted his hand and caught it. Olivia sighed in relief and placed a chaste kiss on Derek's sweaty forehead before helping him up into a sitting position.

Derek looked around the elevator, bewildered. "Where is she?"

"Jennifer? Gone with Scott's mom," Stiles answered, his voice still panicked.

"She took her?"

"Yeah, and if that's not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion, okay?" Stiles informed him. "So, we gotta get you out of here. The police are coming right now and we gotta get you the fuck out of here."

Olivia and Stiles both worked together to get Derek to his feet. "Woah," he stumbled slightly. "What about Cora?"

"She's with Isaac and Peter," Olivia told him. "They should be in the parking lot with the Argents."

"Olivia and I will hold the police off," Stiles added. "but you have to go right now."

Derek glanced at Olivia worriedly. "Be careful," he touched her cheek for a second and then brushed a thumb over the small cut just under her temple from where she hit the wall earlier. "and get that cut cleaned."

"I will," she assured him. "Go now."

Derek took off toward the parking lot and Olivia and Stiles made their way to the Emergency Wing's lobby. They sat in chairs right next together; Olivia laid her head on Stiles' shoulder while he grabbed her hand and locked their fingers together.

"I'm sorry all of this is happening, Stiles," Olivia whispered; there was something about the silence in the hospital that made her want to not disturb it.

"S'not your fault," Stiles kissed the top of her head. "Babe, you almost died last night. There wasn't anything you could do to stop Jennifer from taking my dad or Melissa."

"I know," and she did know that; she didn't blame herself for what was happening. None of them knew that Jennifer was the darach until she tried to kill her and Lydia. "but that doesn't mean that I can't feel sorry for the pain you and Scott are going through. How are you feeling?"

"Not great," his hold on her hand got a little tighter but he made up for it by playing with her fingers; it made her smile. "Maybe Cora was right, you know? We're only finding the bodies," he sniffed, a single tear making its way down his left cheek. "I don't want to find my dad's body."

Olivia gently detached her hand from his and wrapped her arms around him, her chin resting on his left shoulder. "We're gonna find him, Stiles, okay? We're gonna do everything we possibly can."

"How? We don't have a plan," he shifted so his face nuzzled her neck, his fingers pressing firmly into her back. His voice was absolute miserable and it made tears sting Olivia's eyes.

"We'll come up with one. I'll get Allison, Lydia, and Isaac and we'll come up with something. We're all smart, we can do it. Even if I have to join Deucalion, I will do that for you."

Stiles shook his head in protest and whispered. "Don't. I need you by my side."

Olivia stroked the back of his head. "Okay. I won't leave your side. Not even to go to the bathroom."

Her little joke coaxed a smile out of him, she could feel his lips quirk against her skin. He was about to reply when loud sirens alerted them to the fact that the police had arrived. They separated as the police officers and numerous FBI agents stormed into the hospital.

Stiles spotted a man that Olivia didn't recognize and sighed heavily. "Oh, just perfect."

Olivia gave him a questioning look but was unable to ask him what was up, because the man—who had to be a giant—walked over to them.

"A Stilinski at the center of this whole mess," the man stopped in front of Stiles, glaring down at him. "What a shocker. Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?"

Olivia started to protest—she was pretty sure Stiles was allowed a lawyer with him while being questions, or something like that—but Stiles had already spoken up, very sarcastically, "If you ask the questions without the usual level of stupid."

The smile smiled just as sarcastically. "Where's your dad?" he asked Stiles. "And why has no one been able to contact him?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in hours."

"Is he drinking again?"

"Is that question appropriate for this investigation?" Olivia glared at the agent.

The man gave her a firm be-quiet look and turned back to Stiles. "Answer the question."

Stiles sighed heavily. "What do you mean, again? He never had to stop."

"But he did have to slow down," the man prompted. "Is he drinking like he used to?"

Stiles licked his lips and glared up at him. "All right, how about this? Next time I see him, I'll give him a field sobriety test, okay?" his voice hardened. "We'll do the alphabet, start with 'F' and end with 'U.'"

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her laughter. Stiles totally made the agent look like a fool.

The agent smiled tightly. "How about you just tell me what the hell happened here?"

"I don't know what happened here," Stiles exhaled heavily. "Olivia and I were stuck in the elevator the whole time."

"You're not the one who put the names on the doors, are you?"

Olivia and Stiles shared a confused look. "What name?"

"Argent."

-

"The word is guardian, Allison," Mr. Argent said as he opened the door to their apartment, Allison, Olivia, and Stiles piling in after him. "More than anyone, you know that's a role I haven't exactly lived up to lately."

"But she took Scott's mother and Stiles' father," Allison pointed out as they walked through the apartment and into Mr. Argent's office. "That's not a coincidence."

"Yeah, I'd also consider the fact that someone put your name up in large block letters on the elevator doors," Stiles added. "That kind of felt like a warning to me."

"I think it was Ms. Morrel," Olivia stated, remembering how the guidance counselor told Scott about Deucalion wanting them in his pack. "She knows everything about the alpha pack and she knew Jennifer before. I think she might be trying to help us."

Stiles scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, she needs to get on that a lot faster, okay? Seeing as how the lunar eclipse is less than two freaking nights away."

He sat in one of the chairs in front of Mr. Argent's desk; Olivia went to him, putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

Mr. Argent gave him a kind look. "Stiles, don't give up hope."

Stiles ducked his head. "They could already be dead."

"I don't think so," Mr. Argent disagreed. "There's something about Jennifer's tactics. It's like she's still positioning, still moving pieces into place."

"And you're one of them," Allison reminded her father.

"Then let's not wait around to see the next move," Mr. Argent grabbed the map of Beacon Hills and the telluric currents and flattened it on his desk. "Everything she's done has been on a telluric current, so Melissa and the sheriff have to be somewhere on one of those currents, right?" he paused when he saw that Stiles hadn't followed Olivia over to the desk. "Stiles, if we're gonna find them, we need your help."

"You're seriously want to go after her?" Stiles didn't stand up, bracing his elbows on his knees. "I mean, what if she just takes you like the others, huh? No offense, but what's the difference between you and them?"

Mr. Argent reached for one of the drawers in his desk. He pulled it open and Olivia watched in shock as he pulled out a huge handgun. She inched closer to Allison, who gave her a reassuring smile. She had never been shot, but there was something about seeing Mr. Argent hold a gun in front of her that made her itch.

"I'm carrying a .45," Mr. Argent told Stiles bluntly. "Maybe she can heal from a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face, but personally, I'd like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off."

Olivia looked back at Stiles and quirked her lips, her expression telling him 'he's got a point.'

Mr. Argent set the gun back on his desk. "We've got one priority right now and that's to find Melissa and your dad," he said firmly. "We've got a map and every clue we need to figure this out. The only thing we don't have is time, which is why I need all three of you."

Stiles sighed and stood up. "Where do we start?"

Mr. Argent pulled out his blue light so they could see exactly where he had marked the telluric currents, the places where the victims were kidnapped, and the places where their bodies were found.

"The place where the sacrifices have been committed have usually been different from where the bodies have been found. I think the placement has to do with the strength of the current," he held the light over the map, hitting three different places. "So, there's the school, the animal clinic, and the bank."

"Wait, hold on," Olivia spoke up thoughtfully, her eyes studying the map. "You don't think she would use the same place twice, do you?"

"Only if she didn't succeed the first time," Mr. Argent hit the light against the mark at the bank.

"Scott's boss," Allison realized.

"Deaton," Mr. Argent confirmed. "It was her only failure. That could mean something."

"That's just one place so far," Stiles grumbled. "We're gonna need a lot more help."

Allison looked at Olivia. "What about Lydia?"

Mr. Argent looked at the girls, confused. "Lydia? What can she do?"

"She's a banshee, a harbinger of death," Olivia told him. "She's been finding the bodies without looking for them. Which, now that I think about it, might not be the best thing. Because if she can find Ms. McCall and Sheriff Stilinski, that means..."

No one said anything as her sentence trailed off. They all knew what that meant.

"We can still bring her in," Mr. Argent decided; Olivia nodded in agreement. "What about you? Are you able to locate them?"

"I can try. They're not considered official pack members, but their relation to Scott and Stiles might give me something," she glanced at Stiles, who gave her a small smile.

Mr. Argent nodded. "All right, good," he glanced at Allison. "Let's get ready then."

Olivia and Stiles watched as the Argents pulled out their weapons. Mr. Argent went down to the basement of their apartment building where they had a storage locker full of weapons, while Allison went around the apartment and pulled out the ones they kept with them all the time. Guns—big and small—bows and arrows, Chinese ring daggers—those were harder than they looked to use, Olivia knew because Allison had been attempting to teach her the ropes—more knives, smoke grenades, and anything else that would help defeat Jennifer, and/or the alpha pack, were laid on the desk.

Stiles looked at the collection of weapons with wide eyes. "Woah," Mr. Argent cocked his gun into place. "I thought you guys were retired."

"Retired, yes. Defenseless, no," Mr. Argent set the gun back on the desk and then turned to face Olivia and Stiles. "Make sure both of your phones are on. If either of you hear from Scott, let us know immediately."

Stiles checked his phone, where there were no messages or missed calls from Scott, and frowned. "Yeah, I'm thinking that's gonna be kind of unlikely."

Mr. Argent glanced at Allison, seeing the frown on her face. "All three you, try to remember he's just doing what he thinks is right," he advised them all.

Allison's gaze was already on the door; Olivia, Stiles, and Mr. Argent turned to see Isaac standing within the door frame. "I can't shoot a gun or use a crossbow, but..." his claws slipped out of his nail beds and he held them up. "Well, I'm getting pretty good with these."

-

The one thing she had not expected when she stepped a foot into her house a half-hour later, was Natalie rushing up to her. She pulled Olivia into a tight hug—a very tight hug—and held the back of her head, as if assuring herself that Olivia was alive and relatively okay.

Olivia should have expected it. Natalie might not be her mother, but all intents and purposes, she was. She watched over Olivia for six, going on seven, years, she fed and sheltered her, and she loved her and cared for her just as much as Lydia. Her stomach dropped when she realized that she hadn't gotten in touch with Natalie after the whole fiasco that she and Lydia went through with Jennifer. She had been too caught up with the events happening in the hospital and she knew that Lydia was okay, only because of her tether to her.

"I was so worried about you," Natalie sighed into her hair.

"I'm sorry," Olivia apologized sincerely but then had to lie about where she had been. "I was at Derek's. He took care of me."

Natalie frowned and pulled away from the hug to get a good look at her. "Your neck. God, I'm going to kill whoever did this to you two."

If only that was possible.

"I'm okay," she assured her aunt; and as if the universe hated her, her voice squeaked like she was a male going through puberty. She cleared her throat, having gotten used to the pain, and asked, "How's Lydia?"

"The poor thing has a concussion and a couple of stitches by her hairline," Natalie sighed sadly and reached up to Olivia's forehead, thumbing over the cut she had cleaned up at the Argents' apartment. "I'm so glad you two are okay."

"Me too," Olivia took her hand and squeezed it quickly. "If it's okay, I'm gonna go see Lydia."

"Of course, honey," Natalie nodded encouragingly. "How about in ten minutes, I come up there and help you get ready for school? I know you don't like to miss it."

"Thanks, Aunt Nat. I'll see you in a few."

Olivia left her aunt and climbed the stairs, heading straight to Lydia's bedroom, only a door from her own room. She knocked gently and waited until she heard Lydia's permission to enter, before going into the room. Lydia was sitting at the end of her bed, dressed in pajamas, flipping through pages of an old photobook. Olivia recognized it; it was the one from their first year in middle school.

She looked up and smiled at Olivia as she padded over to her bed. "Hey."

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she sat next to the redhead.

"My head hurts a little bit, but other than that, I'm fine," Lydia studied the bruise on her neck. "How about you?"

"Just a little bruise."

Lydia pressed her lips together sadly. "What happened last night?"

Olivia described everything that went on last night. She told her about confronting Jennifer with Stiles, Scott, and Derek, about how Jennifer had poisoned Cora with mistletoe and that was why she wasn't healing. She explained how they went to the hospital and the alpha pack showed up, the many ways they tried to thwart them, and the plan that they eventually came up with. Finally, she told Lydia about Jennifer taking Melissa and Scott joining Deucalion and the rest of the alphas.

"I don't believe it," Lydia shook her head with a sigh. "Scott can't really be with them. He can't be."

"He's doing it for his mom and the sheriff," Olivia frowned; more and more, she was thinking that Scott had made the right decision. And she should have done it with him. If making a deal with the devil was the price she had to pay to make sure Noah and Melissa were safe, she'd do it. "And the look on his face..."

"Okay, so what can I do?" Lydia immediately volunteered to help them, making Olivia smile thankfully at her. "I know I'm supposed to be some human Geiger counter for death or something, but you told me that I could maybe save some people. I don't know how to turn it on and off yet, but..."

When she hesitated, Olivia bit the inside of her cheek. "What?"

"Remember what Jennifer said when she was going to kill me after you?" Lydia reminded her. "She said I knew too much."

"You're right. She didn't know you were a banshee."

Olivia's mind raced. Jennifer tried to kill Lydia because she knew something about what was going on, but what was it? She thought back on how Lydia had been acting since the school year started, and other than finding the dead bodies and that stint at the Motel Glen Capri, she couldn't think of much else...Except, wait. There was something. The day before, when they were in English class learning about idioms, Jennifer had commented on Lydia's drawing.

"Your drawing," she said aloud to see if it sparked something in Lydia. "The one you always draw, the tree."

Lydia looked at her confused, "What are you talking about?"

"The tree you always draw," Olivia got up from the bed and rushed over to Lydia's desk, picking up one of the notebooks there. She opened it up and on the very first page, was the tree. She showed it to Lydia. "This tree. You've been drawing it everywhere, Lyds."

"What?" Lydia asked, horrified. She ripped the notebook out of Olivia's grasp and flipped through the rest of the pages. Over and over, on each page, a drawing of the same tree was there in various sizes. "What the hell?"

"She knew that you knew something about the tree, but she didn't know what," Olivia pointed out. "Do you know what the drawing means?"

Lydia shook her head. "No, I don't. I mean, I talked about it with Ms. Morrell once in one of our sessions, but—"

"Ms. Morrell knows?" Olivia cut her off urgently. "About the drawings and stuff?"

"Yeah, why?" Olivia didn't answer her as she pulled out her phone and started messaging Stiles. "Liv?"

"Sorry, sorry," Olivia turned back to her cousin. "Okay, Stiles and I are gonna head to the school and talk to Ms. Morrell. Do you think you can try to get ahold of Aiden and see if he or the other alphas know anything about Jennifer that we don't?"

"I can try," Lydia seemed bewildered at how flustered Olivia was. "Are you all right, Liv?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just need to go," Olivia rushed to the door before stopping and turning back to her. "Hey, do you think I should cover this," she gestured to her neck. "up?"

"No," Lydia said firmly. "You survived Jennifer's attack. You don't need to hide that."

Olivia inhaled deeply, feeling herself get emotional, and smiled softly at Lydia. "Okay, thank you. I love you, Lyds."

"I love you, too, Liv."

-

After getting dressed and throwing her hair into a topknot—she had not had time to shower, which was unfortunate, because she was pretty sure she still had blood in her hair—Stiles picked her up and they rushed to the school. As they started heading over to Ms. Morrell's office, Olivia got a text message from Lydia.

Lyds: Aiden's not texting me back

Liv: All right. Just keep trying, okay?

Lyds: I will. Be careful

Liv: You too

While she was texting her cousin back, she saw a message come in from Isaac. She ignored it for just a second as she looked up at Stiles and informed him of what was going on with Lydia, "Aiden's not texting Lydia back," she paused and saw that he had stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, his phone in his hand. "Are you okay, Stiles?"

Stiles continued to look at the phone, his face crumpling.

"Stiles, what's going on?" she asked cautiously. She walked over to be by his side and saw that Stiles had gotten a text message from Isaac as well. "What does it say?"

"Jennifer, she t—" he inhaled shakily, his hands shaking. "she has Allison's father. She took him. "She's got all three now."

Olivia's heart started racing in her chest but she somehow found words. "There's still time," she focused on that; Jennifer couldn't do anything until the lunar eclipse started. "We still have time, Stiles."

Stiles didn't respond. His hands shook terribly as he put his phone back into his jeans pocket, he was pale and sweaty, and she didn't need to have enhanced hearing to hear how shaky his breath was. Not only did his tether—his was her favorite, a light brown like his eyes when the sun hit them just right—start flashing, different than it did with the werewolf tethers.

"Stiles," she stood on her tiptoes to place the palm of her hand against his cheek, grounding him for a second. "Stiles, are you having a panic attack?"

Stiles struggled to breathe as he nodded, his eyes wide with panic.

"Okay, it's okay, um..." she looked around the hallway and thanked God that Ms. Morrell's office was close to the boys' locker room. "Okay, come on, Stiles."

The frantic gasping that came from Stiles was scary, she wasn't going to lie. However, she needed to be there for him. She had never experienced a panic attack, but she had read about them. And because she knew Stiles had anxiety, she had learned multiple ways to help people who were experiencing panic attacks. Even though everyone was different and so were reactions, she hoped one of the techniques would help him.

Olivia helped Stiles take a seat on the floor, his back leaned up against one row of lockers, and then kneeled down in front of him. Stiles was really beginning to worry now, his face had lost all color and his breathing had turned into hyperventilating.

"Stiles? Stiles, look at me," she gently grabbed his face and tilted it upward so he could look her in the eyes. "I know you're scared right now, but you have to calm down. Can you breathe with me?"

Stiles nodded, breathing heavily.

"All right, here," she picked up one of his hands and pressed it against her stomach where he would be able to feel how she breathed. "and breathe slow like this. Slow inhale, slow exhale."

She demonstrated the breathing for him. Stiles tried to copy her actions but his thoughts must have gone to his dad again, because he went through two or three cycles of breathing before it picked up again.

"Liv-Livvy," he gasped out, his eyes boring into hers, panicked.

"Okay," that didn't work. "um, okay. Tell me five things you see in this room right now."

He gave her a bewildered look. "I-I can't."

"Yes, you can," she insisted as she stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Right now, Stiles. Please."

"O-Okay," he panted, his eyes quickly tracing the room. "Okay, u-um, my locker."

"Good, good. What else?"

"Y-You're wearing—you're wearing a blue shirt. Blue is pretty."

"Yeah, it is," Olivia smiled at him. "Okay, three more things. You're doing great, sweetcheeks.

"The, uh," his breathing was better but not totally okay yet. He gasped quickly and then continued, "the regional ch-championship trophy."

"That's great, Stiles. Two more."

Stiles eyes darted behind her, where the sinks were lined up on the wall. "The leaky faucet. It's, uh, it's the third one."

Olivia glanced behind her and smiled when she saw that he was right. "Good. One more," his breathing was much calmer now. The gasps were gone and each breath he took was less wheezy. "You're doing great, Stiles."

Stiles' eyes went back to her face, searching it intently. "You're wearing that lip balm you like," he said finally. "it's pink and it tastes like strawberries."

"Yeah," she gazed at him fondly. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, his breathing back to normal. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Stiles took the hand of hers that was on his face and kissed her knuckles. "How'd you know how to do that?"

"I, uh, I knew you had anxiety, so I looked up some methods that might help with panic attacks," Olivia answered him sheepishly. "I have a few more. You can name some colors or hold your breath, and you can even distract yourself with something funny that you like. Like for you, it'd be—"

Her rambling was cut off but Stiles pulling her in for a loving but passionate kiss. Of course, she returned the affection. She loved Stiles so much and she was very happy to know he was feeling better.

When he pulled away from the kiss and stared at her. And he was so damn cute, staring at her like she was the most wonderful person in the world. "You really did that?"

"Of course I did," she stroked his cheek again once she moved it back to his face. "I would do anything for you, I love you."

"I love you, too," Stiles pressed his lips to hers again and pulled away before she could react. "I love you so fucking much, Livvy. One day, after all this is over and we graduate, I'm gonna marry you. And then we'll go to college and get an apartment next to Scott, and we'll have however many dogs you want—because I know you secretly love them so much—and then we'll have a family and we'll—"

"Okay, okay, settle down there," Olivia giggled and gave him a bright smile. The only way she could describe how she felt at his words was that there were a hundred butterflies in her stomach who were just as overjoyed to hear him say that as she was. "We have to get your dad, Melissa, and Mr. Argent back first. We'll see about the rest then, okay?"

"Okay," Stiles nodded with a grin. After Olivia climbed to her feet, she brought her hand down for him to take. He took it gladly and she helped him up. "We should get to Ms. Morrell's office now, huh?"

"Yeah."

After leaving the locker room, they rushed down the hallway and stormed into Ms. Morrell's office. Ms. Morrell wasn't there at her desk like they thought she would be, but there was a student waiting for her. She looked kind of familiar, but Olivia just couldn't place her face at the moment.

"Are you here for Ms. Morrell?" Stiles asked her.

"No, I thought this was gym class," she snarked back at him.

"Okay, listen, we're not in the mood for unneeded sarcasm," Olivia put up her unfeeling mask she used for her classmates and the other students—and teachers—at the school. "Do you know where she is?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be waiting her for twenty minutes," the girl huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "So, how about you two lovebirds back out the door and wait your turn?"

"We're here for a session," Stiles told her.

"Well, I am, and I've got some serious issues to work on."

"Woah, hold on," Olivia studied the girl's face, finally realizing where she had seen her before. "You were at Heath's birthday party. Uh, it's Danielle, right?"

"We've had class together, but sure, I was the girl at Heath's birthday party," Danielle rolled her eyes. "I was his best friend and you and your cousin stopped hanging out with him. That's what Morrell and I have been working on three times a week."

"Wait, did you say that Morrell's twenty minutes late?" Stiles interjected.

Danielle nodded. "And I don't know why, either. She's always on time.

Stiles nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I've been seeing her since freshman year," he looked at Olivia. "She's never late...so, she must be missing."

Olivia gave him a knowing look. "What if we're not the only ones who think she knows something?" she mused. "Aiden wasn't answering Lydia, remember?"

Stiles nodded and glanced at the filing cabinet behind Ms. Morrell's desk. "Then let's find out what she knows," he knelt down in front of the filing cabinet and pulled out a lock-pick kit that Olivia had no idea he had. "You said Lydia's been seeing her since the start of the semester?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?" Danielle asked, affronted, as she watched Stiles break into the cabinet and sift through the files. "Those files are private."

"We're looking for my cousin's file," Olivia told her. "She gave us permission."

Danielle didn't look impressed but she didn't stop them or go to tattle on them, either.

"Find it!" Stiles stood up and tossed Lydia's file onto the desk.

Olivia opened the file and went through the various papers that Ms. Morrell had collected on Lydia. There were no notes like there would be if Morrell was a normal guidance counselor. Instead, it was full of Lydia's drawings, each one of them a tree just like the ones that filled her notebook back at home.

"Wait, wait, stop," Stiles caught her hand as she went to pick up another paper. "Look at that."

The paper he had pointed to had the tree on it like the others. However, this one was different. It was upside down compared to the other ones, making the tree look more like roots, and at the bottom, it was labeled. In Ms. Morrell's writing, it said, 'Nemeton.'

"Oh, my God," Olivia breathed in realization. "It's the Nemeton. That's where she's keeping them. It has to be."

Stiles nodded in agreement. "That's where Derek brought Paige, right?" Olivia made a noise of confirmation as they rushed out of the office, leaving Danielle behind. "Okay, so—"

"Stilinski!" the agent from earlier, who Stiles had told her was Scott's father, shouted for him as he stomped down the hallway.

"Fuck," Stiles cursed under his breath. "All right, you should go to Derek and ask him about the Nemeton and its location."

"I will," Olivia glanced behind him and bit the inside of her cheek when she saw that Agent McCall was only a few feet away from them now. "Be careful."

"You too."

Olivia walked away as Stiles confronted Agent McCall and swiftly turned into a different hallway, the one where her locker was located. She didn't leave like Stiles wanted her to, she had a few phone calls to make.

She took a deep breath and dialed Dr. Deaton first.

-

-

"Did you know your dad's car is in the school parking lot and has been since last night?" Agent McCall asked him. He was sitting on Coach's desk while Stiles sat on one of the students' desks right across from him. He felt like he was in the worst detention he had ever experienced. Scratch that, Mr. Harris' detentions were the worst.

Stiles ducked his head, staring at his fingers and he nervously wringed them together. "No. What does that mean?"

"It means he's officially missing," Rafael told him. Stiles stayed quiet: Tell me something I don't know. "Stiles, why am I getting the feeling you know something that could help us find your dad?"

Stiles lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at his best friend's father. "If I did, why would I not tell you?"

Probably because you, nor the FBI, know anything about what it's really like in Beacon Hills. You don't know about the supernatural, you don't even know that your son is a werewolf, a fucking true alpha, he thought bitterly.

"If it meant helping your dad, why wouldn't you?"

Stiles gave him a look that clearly asked the agent why he was being so idiotic. "So, you're asking me to tell you what I wouldn't not tell you?"

"First, I have no idea what you just said," Rafael said calmly. "Second, how about you just help me help you?"

"Well, I don't know how to help you help me tell you something that would help you if I don't know it," even Stiles was confused about his words, but he stuck to them.

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

Stiles sighed. "I don't know anything, okay? Can I just go?"

Rafael shook his head. "Where are your other friends?"

"You mean Scott?"

"I mean Scott," McCall took out his handy-dandy notebook and listed off all of Stiles' friends, excluding Olivia—he knew where she was—and including some that weren't his friends. "I mean Isaac Lahey, Allison Argent, Lydia Martin, these twins Ethan and Aiden," he shut the notepad and put it back in his jacket. "I've been told your whole little clique didn't show up at school today."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I don't have a clique."

Especially not one with Ethan and Aiden and...Well, I guess Isaac's part of our pack of friends...

"Stiles, come on," Rafael sighed, wishing he would just say something. "There's been a pretty disturbing amount of violent activity in this county in the last month, several murders tied to this school. I don't know what's going on here, but it's serious."

Stiles ducked his head again. McCall didn't have to tell him about what was going on. Stiles knew more about it than he did.

"And hey, your dad is missing," Rafael caught his attention; he lifted his head but didn't say anything. "Fine. But I don't want you going home alone. You have someone you can stay with tonight?"

"He's with me," a new, familiar, voice spoke up. Stiles and Agent McCall both looked over to the door where Deaton was standing, Olivia behind him. "Come on, Stiles."

Stiles eagerly jumped off the desk he was sitting and threw Agent McCall another glare before following Olivia and Dr. Deaton out of the classroom.

-

-

Olivia, Stiles, Allison, Isaac, and Lydia had all gathered in the exam room at the animal clinic with Dr. Deaton. Lydia had gone to see Derek and Peter, at Olivia's insistence, and asked them about the Nemeton, but according to them, Talia had taken those memories from them. That left them with no new leads on Jennifer or a location of the Nemeton, and the sun had already set. They had twenty-four hours to figure everything out.

"It has to be on a telluric current," Stiles declared, leaning against the stainless-steel cart in the middle of the room. "or maybe even at the axis of two or where they all intersect..."

"We just know that Derek took Paige to die there," Olivia finished.

"My dad and Gerard were there once," Allison told everyone from next to Olivia. "but Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn't remember where it was. And my dad obviously isn't here to tell us now."

"Yeah, mine either."

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek, and comfortingly rubbed Allison's back with one hand and Stiles' back with the other. She didn't know if it was comforting but she wanted to show her support for them anyway.

"Then how do we find this place?" Isaac spoke up.

The five of them looked over to Dr. Deaton, who had been pacing with a thoughtful expression the whole time they spoke.

"There might be a way," Dr. Deaton said finally. "but it's dangerous. We're going to need Scott."

Olivia immediately set to work on finding Scott's location. After only two minutes—she was getting much better at locating her pack members—Stiles and Dr. Deaton went to go find him. While she and the others waited for them to bring Scott back with them, she pulled herself into her map and tried to find Sheriff Stilinski, Ms. McCall, and Mr. Argent.

The whole thing was trickier than expected but she didn't care. Knowing that she was most connected to Stiles, she started with his tether. First, she dived deep down into it—while trying not to disturb Stiles, where he and Deaton were—and stayed there for a few seconds, getting used to the feeling of it. She pictured Noah and Stiles together, using one of the memories in which she had gone over to their house for pizza one night so Noah could get to know her better. She focused on them and their bond. Although Stiles and his dad didn't look much alike, their personalities were damn near the same, with a little less sarcasm on Noah's side. They really loved each other, and each one was the last family that the other had.

Once she was comfortable with both Stiles and Noah, she moved onto Noah by himself. Something about Noah just screamed green to her, but that was nice. Green was warm and comforting and that fit him. And when she saw a faded green dot in front of her, she knew that it was him. The thing was, the dot was dull and blurry—she couldn't see him properly. She tried going further toward him but she couldn't move. Something was keeping her back.

She cursed under her breath as she opened her, realizing what was happening. Lydia, Allison, and Isaac were all looking at her expectantly, wanting to know if she got anything. "Jennifer," she scowled. "I think she's blocking me somehow."

"Then we will have to go through with the plan. It's our last choice," Dr. Deaton entered the exam room, followed by Stiles and Scott.

"Yeah, what exactly is this plan?" Lydia asked curiously. Dr. Deaton and Stiles had left before the former was able to explain the plan.

"Essentially, Scott, Allison, and Stiles need to be surrogate sacrifices for their parents," Deaton explained.

"They're going to die for them?" Olivia asked, furrowing their eyebrows. She wouldn't be able to handle that. Stiles was the love of her life, Allison was one of her best friends, and Scott was a friend to her as well. Three members of her pack, three people that she loved and cared about would be gone.

Stiles, it seemed, could read her mind. "He can bring us back," he assured her, crossing the room to pull her into his side. He glanced at Deaton to make sure, "You can bring us back, right?"

Dr. Deaton pulled a half-grimace. "You remember the part where I said it was dangerous?" everyone nodded. "If it goes right, the three of you will be dead for a few seconds, but there's something else you need to think about. This is a dangerous thing for more reasons than one. You'll be giving power back to the Nemeton, a place that hasn't had power for a long time."

"This kind of power is like a magnet. It attracts the supernatural, the kind of things that a family like the Argents can fill the pages of a bestiary with," he said seriously, finishing up. "It will draw them here, like a beacon."

Olivia wondered if the Nemeton was the reason that their town was named Beacon Hills in the first place. If it had been a long time since the Nemeton had power, it might have been. The Hales had always been a prominent family in Beacon Hills for over a century, so it was entirely possible if they had named the town themselves.

Stiles shrugged. "Doesn't sound any worse than anything we've already seen."

Deaton shook his head. "You'd be surprised at what you have yet to see."

"Is that it?" Allison asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"No, it will also have an effect on the three of you," Deaton answered her. "You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It'll be a kind of darkness around your heart and permanent, like a scar."

"Like a tattoo," Scott mused thoughtfully.

Stiles, Scott, and Allison were allowed to leave the animal clinic to head back to their homes to grab a token that represented their parents. While they did that, Olivia, Lydia, Isaac, and Deaton got to work on setting things up for the ritual.

The set-up was much like the one that they used for Isaac's when they were trying to find Boyd and Erica. There were three large tubs this time and each one was filled to the brim with water, ice, and herbs that Dr. Deaton had mixed for them. While Lydia and Isaac continued working, Dr. Deaton pulled Olivia aside.

He told her that, unlike Isaac's ritual, she wouldn't be able to help with this one. When Olivia heard his explanation, she agreed. Because Stiles, Allison, and Scott would be dead—at the minimum for a few seconds—she wouldn't be in the best shape. Deaton even told her that she may be out of it for a period of time while they were gone, if they were gone for more than a few seconds or even minutes. Honestly, it scared Olivia. She felt the whole in her heart desperately when Boyd died. It was undoubtedly going to be worse when the ritual started.

When Stiles and Scott came back, followed shortly by Allison, Olivia went straight to Stiles and wrapped her arms around his waist. He had to know that she was nervous about the whole thing because he wrapped his arms around her, too, and whispered soothing words into her ears.

"All right," Dr. Deaton said once the tubs were ready to go. "What did you bring?"

Stiles unhooked one arm from around Olivia and dug his hand into his jacket pocket. "Um, I got by dad's badge," he told everyone, staring at it sadly. "Jennifer kind of crushed it in her hand, so I tried hammering it out a bit. Still doesn't look great."

"It doesn't need to look good if it has meaning," Deaton assured him.

Stiles nodded and pressed his lips together.

"Is that an actual silver bullet?" Isaac spoke up, looking at the token that Allison was holding.

Allison nodded. "My dad made it. It's a kind of ceremonial thing," she explained. "When one of us finishes learning all the skills to be a hunter, we forge a silver bullet as a testament to the code."

"Scott?"

Scott held up a dainty watch. "My dad got my mom this watch when she first got hired at the hospital," he scoffed lightly. "She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked."

"Okay," Dr. Deaton started to explain what they needed to do. "the three of you will get in. Olivia, Lydia, and Isaac will each hold you down until you're essentially...Well, dead. But it's not just someone to hold you under. It needs to be someone who can pull you back, someone that has a strong connection to you, a kind of emotional tether."

Olivia quickly looked up. "Did you say emotional tether?"

When Deaton nodded, Olivia and Stiles shared a knowing look. Stiles was the only one she told about her knew system of keeping track of her pack and how it worked much better than before. The fact that Deaton was mentioning an emotional tether like the ones she used couldn't be a coincidence.

Had she been led to start thinking of her attachments to the pack as tethers for a reason? The answer seemed to be yes. Olivia didn't know if she be freaked out or relieved that she was understanding her abilities better.

"Lydia," Deaton called out the redhead's name when she went to stand by Allison. "you go with Scott."

Olivia and Stiles shared another look, both of them shocked at the turn of events. Olivia looked back at her cousin with a questioning look but Lydia steadfastly ignored her as she went to take her place by a very surprised Scott.

Scott...and...Lydia? What was going on here?

They'd be cute together, though, Olivia admitted to herself.

Allison looked between one of her best friends and her former boyfriend, confused. "Are you sure?" she asked Deaton. "I mean, I have to go under, too. And Isaac—"

"Isaac will go with you," Dr. Deaton told her. "Olivia, you'll be with Stiles."

Well, that wasn't a shock. Isaac and Allison and Scott and Lydia, though? What a plot twist.

Before the ritual began, Olivia made sure to take Stiles aside for a second.

"If you stay dead, I'm gonna kill you," she warned Stiles, making him laugh through his nerves. "I'm completely serious, Stiles."

"I know you are," he smirked down at her. "It's gonna be fine, though. I love you, baby."

Olivia didn't object to the pet name. He was going to be dead for a few seconds, so she'd let it slide. "I love you, too, sweetcheeks."

They quickly kissed and Stiles placed an extra one on her temple, his lips quirking into a knowing smile. Olivia may be hard to read for other people, but it was easy for him to figure out what was going on in that stubborn head of hers.

They both made their way back into the exam room. Olivia squeezed Allison's hand meaningfully and smiled at Scott, wishing them a good luck without words. Then, they all lined up at their respective tubs.

Allison was the first one to step in, deeply inhaling at the freezing cold water. Scott got into his tub as well. Stiles looked back at Olivia before he got into his tub and she gave him the most reassuring smile that she could. It worked for him, though; he stepped into the tub fearlessly.

They were all having trouble breathing from the freezing cold water as they fully submerged themselves. A second later, Olivia took her place behind Stiles with her hands on his shivering shoulders; Lydia and Isaac did the same for Scott and Allison, respectively.

Teeth chattering, Stiles looked to his left to speak to Scott. "By the way, if I don't make it back and you do, you should probably know something. Your dad's in town."

Tears slipped down Olivia's cheeks as she pressed down on Stiles' shoulder at Deaton told them to begin. Stiles kicked and struggled underneath the water, but she kept going, knowing that this was what he wanted. It was just a little heartbreaking to keep him under.

Stiles, Scott, and Allison all stilled at the same time. Olivia didn't even have to let go, she collapsed under the weight of their nonpermanent deaths, slipping into nothingness.

(Gif is not mine)

[douxie-casperan]

💫!!

[Makes vague hand waving motions because I’ve been working on this for several hours now and it’s Zouxie as all heck.]

I look to you - Whitney Houston 

Nothing to do, but lift my head I look to you And when all my strength is gone In you I can be strong I look to you And when melodies are gone In you I hear a song I look to you

~

Despite dutifully yelling to announce her arrival to Douxie's apartment after swinging the door wide, Zoe got no immediate response from the wizard who had said he'd be here when she texted earlier to ask if she could stop by and harass him about borrowing a few bits from the shop again. It's not that unusual admittedly, having to just nip out for something or simply getting engrossed with whatever he was doing was pretty normal but given his natural habit of being a charmer always out to put the best foot forward it seemed to embarrass him whenever he got caught out being a bad host. Probably a good thing she didn't kick the door in mind, mighta set the wards off anyway and that'd left two of them freaking out. The last time it happened she was wearing steel caps and it left a sizable dent that they were both left scramble fixing before the landlord found out with even him very nearly breaking his self-censorship habit. Not her finest moment but her hands were full of takeout at the time, needs must!

Shrugging out of the tatty patched-up jacket that had been shamelessly robbed when last here because of a chill swept in way earlier than planned, the door is clicked shut with a suspicious frown whilst listening out for any signs or even where they might be squirreled right now only to be greeted with utter silence. Odd.  

"Greeting committee is being a bit on the lacking side today. Even you too, furball? Will bribe for at least a hello here!" she shouts again from where the clothes are dumped over the back of the sofa before pressing her now bare elbows into it while leaning on the back expectantly. No response again. Huffing with annoyance the witch snaps her fingers together to create a small orb that crackles softly in pink hovering gingerly just above glossy black nails.

"My boys, your standards are starting to slip big time."

It is a simple enough tracking spell and while it'd fall under wasteful use, technically, better to have something harmless to save her hawking the few rooms in the place particularly given his familiar is sticking close rather than offering sarcastic remarks as he tends to whenever she comes over. That fact is even more important because if this is a bad episode that means sound dampeners are up too, it had been quite a while since the last but they're as unpredictable as the tides at times... Better to play it safe and with a flick of the wrist, the hunt begins.

The light flits to and fro as though needing to get it's bearings first then dashes over to the closed door of his own room and hovers there unable to go further which is a sure sign something had been put up to keep things in or out depending. Alright then straight up knocking it is.

The sounds on the other side are at best vague and muffled though her patience is swiftly rewarded by it opening enough to allow her to slip inside before shutting. There is the man himself sitting on the bed with back to the wall with his precious guitar held close to his chest, absolutely surrounded by pieces of paper that had been hastily scribbled on or scrunched up accordingly, a no doubt stone cold tea cup and the presence of one particular glasses wearing cat who had claimed one of these for himself to sit on. Giving the doorframe another tap he's flashed a grin to get a much more sheepish look right back and little more than a flicked ear by the other. Charming.

"My someone's been busy," she says while he scrambles to make some space in the disaster area that had been his current song writing project. It did explain the lousy reception that's for sure.

"Hmn, a bit. Had something I needed to get out my head and guess the time got away from me a bit. Sorry love," he answers apologetically while gesturing with one hand, the other is hunting for the pen that had made a break for it into the pillows.

"Not left you hanging at the altar too long have I?"

Giving him a small thank you, his familiar is ceremoniously scooped into the air with a surprised prrt then, after joining the pair on the duvet herself, he is given pride and place on her lap with a chin scratch before he can start complaining about being moved earning a quirked brow at the sheer display of blatantness. Personally she finds how Archie plays favourites sometimes absolutely hilarious, he's complained enough times how he always gets told off if he'd tried to touch him there though having better scritching nails compared to how short he keeps his own probably helps tilt things in her favour.

"Nah, you get inspired you bunker up with the cat it's fine! Only payment I demand is whatever you're working on," she replies nonchalant waving at the stack of sheets.

"Gotta be something real good if you put a keep out sign and I'm already here. So c'mon hit me."

"Sure I could do but I don't think it's ready, it's still rough as heck and I can't seem to get some of the words to come together how I want them to," Douxie groans putting a hand under his chin.

"Been driving me nuts honestly. S'like my brain just dumped them there and expected me to put them together again without any real input."

"It just means she gets to hear the first draft and you get an opinion other than mine," pipes up a voice of reason with a yawn.

"You've been going around in circles for the past hour anyway, a fresh test run is overdue."

Douxie seems to dither if to go ahead or not from the way his expression changes subtly between wanting to argue or just say to heck with it and yield to the pleading face and whined pleeeeeease coming from across the bed. From how the instrument is moved back into a more playable position it seems the yes vote has won out if still a little bit reluctant about it. Fingertips grace the strings to test them without committing to anything, then a deep breath is taken for luck and he begins to play.

~

On an eve of a night chilled with rain Did a door open to a world beyond Revealing a particular face On to be a future friend, another love With pursed lips and fire in her eyes Seeking shelter with the mundane

Thought nothing of it at the time like a fool Just wanted to be friendly Where could chat so innocently Enjoy that pleasant company All the while knowing Not getting attached was a hard and fast rule

We'd meet it'd seem again and again Upon desert shores and townships Admiring the ruins of ages and lives Share stories and freedoms Then part ways whilst knowing It was always a case of when

Messages would arrive upon a raven Crossing borders and seas Reminders that we're not alone Seeing the same sun, same stars Words to break the deafening silence But it'd never beat a real conversation

Because I lived for the ones with you

Somehow in the future Upon a leyline in California While making a stop with a delivery There would be a flash of colour And I would say Hey I think I know her

I'd have both good days and bad Sometimes the cracks would show through Centuries of living does nothing it seems Covered in the dust and grime So I would deny and lie through my teeth And say everything is just fab

You're stronger than you know Over and over you'd say Team up with him and pin me down Hold those words to my face Then say together So don't hide away, let it show!

It still wears but gets better From the smile I carry you know it's true Nothing in the world can get to me I have a brother to help me breathe Plus someone to fight my corner too And know I'd always let her

Because I love living in this world with you

~

A beat passes as the last of the notes echo into nothingness.

Then a second.

Just as he is about to ask what she thought and apologise again for it being a little on the cheesy side, his stupid grey shirt is grabbed to yank him close enough to kiss him and hide the blush sweeping across her face whilst miraculously not accidently terfing Archie off. Despite initial freezing in surprise he quickly melts into something far softer and loving with a look that refuses to fade when their lips part again. It never gets old no matter how many times Zoe has seen him do it.

"You might be a sappy idiot Casperan, but you're my sappy idiot."

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 30: Uɴғɪɴɪsʜᴇᴅ Bᴜsɪɴᴇss

Masterlist

Episodes: We Are Grounders - Part 1, We Are Grounders - Part 2

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Thirty

The camp was bustling with people who prepared to leave, but we remained rooted to the spot. Once Clarke stormed away, we were left staring at each other with no desire to move. I tried to force some words out in support of him, but I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I didn’t know if I could find any strength to share. 

“For what it’s worth, I want to stay…” 

I quickly trailed off as I felt my breath hitch and a single tear slipped out of my carefully controlled facade. I bit my lip in an effort to contain the wave of feelings that was crashing over me but it was too late. Bellamy noticed my reaction and pulled me to a quiet spot so that we could talk without the audience of camp.

“Hey, you’re okay, it’s okay.” He spoke soothingly and put his hands on my shoulders as he leaned down to meet my eyes.

At his kind gesture and concerned eyes, I finally cracked under the pressure. The tears flooded suddenly from me, pouring down my cheeks and I shook violently all over. I was completely unable to consider my actions as the storm exploded in my mind. I threw myself into his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around me with no hesitation. Although our enormous height difference had been nothing other than an inconvenience until now, especially when I was furiously yelling upward at him, in my despair it became an unexpected blessing. As he squeezed me into him and I tucked my head under his chin, I got the sensation that he was my shield against the world. There was a sense of safety that was foreign to me and it allowed me a moment that I didn’t realise I needed until now, a chance to express weakness. Since our arrival on Earth, I had been exhausted by the constant illusion of strength that I depended on and it was a welcome relief to drop the act for even a few minutes. I closed my eyes tightly as I burrowed my face into his chest and was comforted by the warmth of his body that ran slightly warmer than my own. I was jolted by the image of him dangling by his neck which was burned behind my eyes and not even the safety of his arms could remove it.

“I lost you.” I whispered in a terrified voice and he pushed me back to peek down at me in confusion. “For a few seconds, I lost you.” I confessed as I met his eyes and he furrowed his brows. “When I climbed through the vent and saw you there...I thought you were gone. That image of you hanging, I feel like it will haunt me forever.” A small sob escaped my lips and I abruptly could not manage any more words.

“But I’m not gone. I’m still here thanks to you. You saved my life today, again.” He clarified firmly as he stared into my eyes and carefully brushed away a tear from my cheek. 

“It was my fault!” I exclaimed causing him to frown. “I defended him when you wanted to throw him out, I put you in an impossible position and I was cruel to you. Only for it to turn out that you were right all along and it nearly cost you everything!” I hissed in a stressed stutter as I sniffed back any further tears.

“No. It’s not your fault.” He argued in a tone of disbelief as he assessed my expression. “He wanted to kill me because of the decisions that I made. This was on me.” He insisted and I felt guilty for making him reflect on his mistake with Murphy again. I stared at him for a few seconds, absorbing all of the details of how he looked, committing them to memory for fear that one day I might truly need it. He was perfect in the soft afternoon light, even with the worry that dominated his face as he studied me. I couldn’t control the fear that gripped me as I gazed upon him and I realised just how close I’d come to losing him. 

“Bellamy, I know that you had to save Jasper and I really am thankful for that. But please, don’t ever take a risk like that again, I don’t think I could go through that- to not be able to get to you-” I stumbled over my words as I strained to explain the panic that I’d felt and fresh tears rolled down my cheeks just at the thought of ever experiencing a repeat of this type of situation. He gently wrapped me in his arms again and my chest wracked as I wept against him. 

“Shh.” He soothed, rubbing a hand gently on my back whilst I whimpered. He was tender and comforting as he allowed me to calm down in my own time. I couldn’t tell how long had passed in his embrace and he made no effort to rush me. The world seemed to stop around us as he held me in the quiet bubble of safety and my heart raced when he placed a feather-light kiss on my forehead. I finally felt the shaking in my body slow to a stop and the chaos in my mind subsided. I took a few deep breaths in an effort to regain control and when it was clear that I had settled, he cleared his throat. 

“We should probably start packing up, it sounds like the others want to get going as soon as possible.” Bellamy suggested in a soft voice and he patiently waited for me to move first. I reluctantly extracted myself from him and he released me back into the cold air. 

“I don’t want to leave, this is our home.” I whispered as I met his eyes with a regretful expression. I was glad that I was finally calm enough to express my thoughts and I could tell from his reaction that he was pleased to find that I was on his side.

“Neither do I.” He sighed in frustration and rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “But, no offence, I don’t think you and I can fight off the grounders, just the two of us, even with your killer shots.” He commented playfully and I managed a small laugh. I noticed that his eyes lit up at the sight of it and it made my stomach flip. 

We stood in comfortable silence for a few lingering moments and I explored him with a fond smile. The heat that radiated between us was suffocating, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. I was drowning in his deep-set, whisky brown eyes and they gave me the sensation that I was being drawn into him. I couldn’t recognise my own thoughts as my body moved without my consideration. All of the things I’d been told to do by everyone else no longer mattered, all the advice filtered away into silence and my mind offered no guidance. It was as if the world around us fell away until it was just him and I. I stepped closer to him with a desperate need to feel his touch and he obliged as his hand fell naturally onto my arm. My breathing hitched at the contact and I regarded him with sultry eyes. I slowly shifted my weight onto my toes, raising myself up into his space and my hand settled gently on his shoulder. My instincts led me to apply slight pressure, guiding him down to meet me and as he did, our faces grew close enough to feel his hot breath on my skin. This time, my heart wasn’t hammering; my hands were steady, my nerves relaxed and every moment felt exactly right, like it was meant to happen. I felt the tip of my nose touch his cheek and our lips brushed so slightly that I couldn’t feel anything other than the sensation of electricity as it shot through my body.

“Bellamy! Indigo!”  A sharp call interrupted us and I jumped back, startled out of the moment. “Come on, we need to go!” 

I cleared my throat awkwardly and felt my face burning with heat as the world returned in a crash around me. I couldn’t manage to meet his eyes and instead I stepped past him without another word. I jogged over to Octavia who was inspecting camp for us but I was reassured to find that she didn’t seem to have noticed us yet. She seemed relieved as I reached her. 

“Come on, we need to get our tent packed and I’ve got a present for you.” She stated and I forced a smile despite the overwhelming temptation to glance back to Bellamy.

I followed her back to the tent with a heavy feeling of unfinished business. We tried to be efficient in packing, ensuring that we had stowed rations, water and plenty of weapons. Octavia presented me with an assault rifle, assuring me that I was ready for the upgrade and that I would need it for the journey. It took very little time to pack our modest possessions and we left our tent for the last time. I parted from Octavia to check on Raven and wandered into the dropship to find Finn and a couple of others rushing to put together a stretcher. I glanced around worriedly in search of her.

“What’s happening?” I called out to Finn as I observed the commotion that filled the tightly packed space. 

“Clarke cauterised the wound but the bullet is still inside.” Finn answered over his shoulder as he worked. “She can’t walk or she’ll move it. We’re gonna carry her.” He stated firmly and I raised my brows at his words. I moved closer to the surface that Raven was lying on and peeked down at her with a heavily guilty expression.  

“I shouldn’t have left you, I’m sorry.” I breathed, hardly able to meet her eyes without feeling a surge of anxiety. The calmness that I’d felt with Bellamy had already dissolved and I returned to stressing over the consequences of my choices. She reached over to take my hand in hers and squeezed it firmly to draw my attention to her face. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” She asserted, leaning forward to force me to meet her eyes. “You did what you had to. I’m gonna be fine.” She confirmed as she smiled at me supportively and I sighed.

“I should be the one reassuring you right now.” I confessed guilty and she chuckled under her breath before flinching from pain. 

“Indie, we need to get going.” Finn cleared his throat and spoke in a hurried voice. “We’ve gotta get her ready to move.” He ordered and I nodded back at him in acknowledgement. I smiled appreciatively at her and squeezed her hand one last time before stepping out of their way. 

I couldn’t stand to watch how delicate she was as they lifted her into the stretcher, so I returned outside to find Octavia. I scanned the stripped, bare looking camp as people started to gather together to leave. I felt a sense of reluctance as I reflected that this would be the last time I would see the place that I now considered home and before I could think twice about the decision to leave, it was time. I noticed that Bellamy was searching around for someone as we organised into a planned formation. I hid in the crowd, sticking closely to Octavia as I tried to avoid his notice. I couldn’t pretend that I hadn’t almost kissed him a few moments ago and the idea of discussing this at such an emotionally charged time was overwhelming. As the gates opened and we all filed out, Octavia and I walked side by side. I wasn’t sure how we ended up leading at the front of the pack and I was relieved to hear quiet pockets of conversation happening around us. Octavia shot at an analysing look at me and I prepared myself for a grilling.

“You alright over there? You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind?” She quizzed in a poor attempt at a light tone. I could easily identify the warring emotions in her eyes that she tried to cover with a brave face and I smiled weakly at her in a similar manner.

 “I’m fine, it just feels strange to be leaving. It’s been insane here, but it finally feels like home.” I sighed in an avoidant manner. I didn’t consider it lying, it was troubling to leave our camp for uncertain shores. I couldn’t discuss the issues with Bellamy whilst we were so crowded with people so I stuck to the simple issues. I tried to keep my guard up as I spoke, scanning our surroundings for any sign of grounders. “Plus, I can’t let go of the niggling feeling that we’re leaving Monty behind.” I confessed as I acknowledged the knot in my stomach.

 “I know what you mean.” She sighed deeply and I peeked at her in concern. “Finn says there’s no way Lincoln survived with the odds that were against him, but I still feel like I’m abandoning him.” She breathed and I could easily recognise the reluctance that was in her eyes now I took a moment to examine her.

 “Hey, your boyfriend’s a grounder Octavia, I wouldn’t count him out. Last time you said goodbye, he turned up again just in time to save our friends. I get the feeling we haven’t seen the last of him.” I stated firmly and my words earned the hint of a smile in the corner of her lips. “Now, I just have to convince myself to feel the same about Monty.” I muttered, as I returned my attention to our surroundings. “Maybe I’ll even get really lucky and we’ll run into Murphy.” I added bitterly and noticed that my grip on the comically large gun in my hands got tighter. Octavia glimpsed at me with her brows knitted together in worry and I could sense that she was assessing me.

 “That whole thing with Bellamy really messed you up, huh?” She probed and I flinched at her perceptiveness. I maintained a careful measure of the anger in my voice as I answered her.

 “For a minute when I first got to him, I thought he was dead. I’ve never been so terrified.” I whispered, before shaking my head violently to dislodge the agonising memory that replayed in my brain. “But what made it worse was that I trusted Murphy, I gave him a second chance. I defended him, I patched his wounds, I fucking comforted him. I need to pay him back for that.” I spat with a fury that rose like acid from my stomach as I remembered his convincing little act.

 “Well, I hope you get your chance.” She commented and I was surprised to find bitterness in her tone too. “I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a few hits in.” She added, gritting her teeth as she spoke and I remembered her frantic cries on the radio whilst I hid in the bottom of the dropship with understanding.

 “I’m pretty sure there will be a queue.” I chuckled darkly under my breath and she nodded back at me with amusement.

We continued in silence through the forest with our eyes trained on our surroundings as we gripped our guns nervously. Octavia stopped abruptly on the spot and held a hand up to halt the following group. I raised my gun to stare through the scope and held my breath as I scanned the area in nervous anticipation. There were several panicked comments from behind as those around us strained to see what had alarmed Octavia, but like the rest of them I couldn’t see anything. In a flash, something shot through the air and planted itself into the face of the man standing behind us.

“Grounders!” Jasper yelled in a deafening roar, spiralling the group into a panic.

Octavia and I fell into positions to navigate the group back towards camp, with people rushing frantically to get behind the walls. As we reached the gates Jasper ran ahead of us and positioned himself on the wall to cover our return. Octavia placed herself at the gate to guide people inside and I witnessed Bellamy out of the corner of my eye. He climbed up beside Jasper to cover the gate, so I quickly took a position on the other side to provide full covering fire if needed. The gates slowly dragged closed as the last of our people filtered inside and I continued to stare out between the trees, scouring for any sign of movement. I could hear Bellamy, Clarke and the usual leadership building into an argument over whether to stay or go again and I glanced over at Jasper. As it seemed we were the only two people that were still on watch for an attack, I opted not to get involved this time and allowed them to fight until someone was victorious. I couldn’t deny that I was pleased when they agreed to stay and fight, as I felt that running was the wrong choice from the beginning.

“Okay then. This is what we’ve been preparing for, kill them before they kill us. Gunners to your posts. Use the tunnels to get in and out, from now on the gate stays closed.” Bellamy addressed the crowd assertively and they immediately sprang into action, running to their assigned posts.

I glanced around nervously at the bustling camp. I’d learned the routes to the foxholes, but I was busy setting up landmines as part of Raven’s crew the night that groups were assigned and I suspected that Bellamy hadn’t assigned me a role on purpose. I witnessed him halt Octavia in her tracks as she headed for a tunnel with a sword that Finn had gifted her from Lincoln. I seized the moment to sneak past whilst he was distracted. I followed Jasper as he moved with a determined purpose and I overheard Octavia firmly informing Bellamy that she was a grounder now. I smiled in amusement at her newly developed confidence and was proud that she had finally found her place. As I neared the exit from camp, I had to pause as she jumped into the tunnel just ahead of me. Unfortunately, she carried Bellamy’s attention with her and he reached out to snatch my arm in the first second that he registered my presence. 

“No, not you too.” He spoke firmly but the grip that he clung to me with revealed his desperation. I met his eyes with an apologetic expression but I couldn’t deny my frustration with him for even attempting to keep me out of this.

“Come on Bellamy, you said yourself that you need my aim. It’ll take everyone we have for us to survive this.” I argued in a bid to reach his sensible nature but he simply furrowed his brow at me regretfully.

“I know, and I understand why you want to fight but…” His voice trailed off and his gaze fell to his boots as he shuffled awkwardly on the spot. “Does it have to be you two?” He asked as he met my eyes with an insecurity that was unfamiliar on him.

“You don’t have to worry about us, we can do this.” I responded with a reassuring smile and I gazed at him sympathetically. I understood his concern; I hated the idea of him and Octavia fighting, but when I considered what would happen to them if the grounders got inside, I knew that I had no other choice. “I’ll stay with Jasper and see you back here when we win.” I expressed, squeezing his arm with a smile and he finally loosened his grip on me with an anxious look. I turned from him and rushed into the tunnel before I could think twice.

Once in the cramped space of the foxhole with Jasper and Harper, we waited in nervous silence. The radio Jasper was holding crackled and he held it up for us to hear. 

“All foxholes, listen up.” Bellamy’s voice announced and I sat up straighter as I waited for instructions. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You can hold them off for long enough to make them turn back. That’s the plan.” He cut off abruptly and I could only imagine the argument that was currently taking place between the leadership.

“So our plan is to scare them off?” Harper repeated as she glimpsed between the two of us in disbelief.

“We don’t have enough of anything to kill them all.” Jasper explained and his eyes grew wide as his fear became clear in his movements. I realised that this was difficult for him and I wished that there was a way to protect him from the fight that was unfortunately inevitable.

“We don’t need to kill them all.” I stated firmly, drawing his attention to me. “We just have to kill enough to make them think that we will.” I smiled in an attempt to reassure them, despite my own reservations about the reliability of this plan. 

We waited for what seemed like hours as the tension grew thick in the air. Harper kept watch whilst Jasper gave his best effort to build my confidence in the new gun. I hadn’t had a chance to even test firing something this size and we didn’t have the bullets left for me to practice. We got comfortable sitting with the muzzles of our guns pointing out of the shelter and kept our eyes keenly trained for any sign of movement. Jasper suddenly tensed and I caught the distant sound of drums as his eyes widened.

“We can do this Jasper, you’re not alone.” I whispered as I met his terrified eyes and he nodded back shakily. I could feel a slight tremble in my hands and took a long, slow breath to steady myself. 

“I see them, they’re moving!” 

Stirling’s frantic voice on the radio alerted us to the start of the battle, but we couldn’t see anything in the area surrounding our foxhole. There were several other panicked responses as other foxholes identified grounders but from the information that was given, no one seemed to be able to hit them. We waited, staring at the trees until I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Within seconds they descended on the area and Jasper was shooting in a panic. 

“They’re everywhere! Harper, get down!” He panted as he sprayed bullets at random in every direction and I could barely hear over the incredible noise of the gun. “We need backup!” He called down the radio in a fluster, joining the flurry of manic messages that flooded through. I put a hand on his arm and shook him to get through his shock. 

“Jasper, stop shooting! We don’t have enough bullets to fire at random!” I yelled in an effort to reach his logical nature and he caught sight of me with a panic stricken expression. “Don’t shoot unless you know you can hit them, otherwise let the landmines do their job!” I ordered firmly and  he nodded back nervously. 

We resumed our positions, waiting for the movement to return after Jasper had scared them off as we watched down the barrel of our guns. It was barely seconds before grounders sprinted past us again and a bomb exploded just ahead of the foxhole. We glanced at each other in an elated mixture of surprise and excitement.

“Raven, our mines actually worked!” Jasper announced into the radio in an ecstatic voice. We high fived in a moment of childish delight and grinned widely at each other. It was comforting to experience a fleeting moment of friendship in the middle of the chaos and I was thankful that I’d chosen to follow him.

“Jasper, we need you in the dropship right now.” Clarke’s voice declared over the radio at the perfect timing to force us back into reality and my face dropped at the realisation that he couldn’t remain at my side. 

“Negative, we can’t give up the west woods.” Bellamy argued in an overly aggressive tone and although I knew that he was speaking from a tactical perspective, I couldn’t help feeling that some of his reluctance to allow Jasper to leave was because he knew that I was here.

“The west woods are mined Bellamy, the grounders just figured that out!” Clarke’s sharp voice responded and her impatience was clear even through the radio. “Jasper get in here.” She demanded and I felt my stomach churn as I considered what could cause such a desperate reaction from her. I had to force my mind to remain focused as I wondered if some part of the plan had already gone wrong. Before Bellamy could continue to make excuses, I snatched the radio from Jasper’s hands. 

“Who said anything about giving up, we’re still out here!” I taunted in a determined tone as I smiled at Harper and signalled to Jasper to go. He assessed me for a long moment in concern, before reluctantly tearing himself away and climbing into the tunnels towards camp. “Harper and I have got this, girl power and all that shit.” I smirked in the hope that I could inspire confidence in her nervous face. I leaned over to offer her a fist bump with a playful wink. She slowly bumped her fist against mine and a small smile crept in at the corner of her lips. “Only take the shot if you’re sure, make every bullet we have left count, alright?” I recapped assertively.

“I see one, there! There!” She exclaimed as she pointed ahead and I stared down the barrel at the rapidly moving blur as it passed through the trees. I held the gun tightly in place and was ready to shoot at any sign of threat, until another mine went off and I widened my eyes in understanding. 

“They’re drawing our fire!” I breathed as I kicked myself for not analysing their tactics sooner. “Harper, keep an eye out but don’t shoot unless it comes at you.” I spoke sternly and although she was obviously terrified, she nodded in acknowledgement. I snatched up the radio that Jasper had left on the floor and took a deep breath to prepare myself to take control of the situation. “All gunners! The grounders are not attacking, they want us to waste our bullets. Don’t shoot whilst they’re just running around, let the mines pick them off and only shoot when you absolutely have to!” I quickly passed the information so that I could stow the radio and resume my grip on the gun. 

“Indigo's right, don’t fire until you’re sure it’s an attack!” Bellamy’s reply was prompt and I smiled involuntarily. I was reassured to hear his voice, not only because I enjoyed knowing that I’d been able to prove myself but also because it meant that he was still safe. “Repeat, do not fire until you’re sure.” He confirmed and I glanced over to smile at Harper, only to find that she was shaking from head to toe. I sighed sympathetically at her. 

“You can do this, we’re not gonna let them past. I’ve got your back.” I reassured sternly, before returning my focus to the space in front of the foxhole. I observed several grounders emerging from the trees and just as I was lining up my aim, I realised that they were leading a hoard that was crowded into a tight formation. 

“Shit.” I spat under my breath as I felt dread creeping down my spine. “Okay, take slow shots, make sure you get a grounder in the face with every single one.” I gave my instructions clearly to Harper and she met my eyes with horror as she clocked the approaching force. “The second you’re out of bullets, you get back up those tunnels and you don’t look back.” I ordered and I was proud to discover that she wasted no time in following the command. I switched the radio on and leaned it against a surface so that I could talk and shoot at the same time. “West foxhole, the grounders are attacking! At least 50 in a unit right in front of us! We’ll use the ammo we have and pull back. This is it gunners, hold your ground and make them pay for every life they’ve taken from us!” I reported in the hope that I could inspire confidence as I stared down the scope with determination. Harper was as efficient as I demanded, but by her fourth shot she was done. She regarded me with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Go, get out of here, I’ll be right behind you!” I shouted forcefully. I was only on my second shot and had no intention of quitting whilst I could still shoot. She surveyed the group that was closing in, then peeked at me with a final reluctant glance before she frantically jumped into the tunnel. I took a deep breath and attempted to stay focused on the rapidly approaching horde. I knew that once they passed this checkpoint, there was nothing left between them and Bellamy. I was the last stand at protecting him and everyone else I cared about, and I knew that I had to bring down every last grounder that I could. I fired again, resulting in a shot that hit one of the troops directly in the face and they sank to the ground in a satisfying manner. Three shots. I moved my barrel to focus on the next target with a determined fire in my gut. I took another steadying breath, finding it hard to keep calm as I acknowledged that they were barely metres away. I squeezed the trigger and another shot launched from the barrel, landing squarely in my target's chest. They stumbled in a shocked reaction but quickly recovered to continue marching toward me. Four shots. 

“Indie, what are you still doing in there?! Get out!” 

Bellamy’s frantic voice filled the space and I realised with horror that the radio was still on; he could still hear me shooting. I aimed one more time at the same attacker’s face, imagining him reaching Bellamy to bully myself into remaining in the foxhole despite the growing risk. My heart skipped a beat as I squeezed the trigger and the bullet flew right on target, stopping one more grounder dead. Five shots. The gun jammed in a telltale sound and I realised almost too late that they were right on top of me. I dove into the tunnel in blind faith just as they reached the foxhole and the leading grounder swung an axe into the centre of it. I barely escaped the assault by a couple of inches and slammed closed the entrance to the tunnel behind me. I noticed with horror that I’d left the radio behind but I had to force myself to concentrate on manically crawling through the tight space to reach camp. I had to get in, find another gun and get to Bellamy before the grounder’s forces did. I knew that there were only two others with him at the final position and that it was impossible for them to last against the numbers that were stalking toward them. Every part of my mind focused on getting to him as I rushed through the tunnel and I felt my chest tightening with anxiety. The same thought echoed over and over in my mind: I can’t lose him.

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 #30: Ominous

A sharp and bitter autumn day, the kind that made you glad of the classroom's warmth.  Danielle Corbeau and Belle Resone walked down the street to the Okusanya house, with a bookbag floating behind Resone, trailing her like a patient pet.  Ayumi had stayed home today, ostensibly due to illness, but they both knew better. Ayumi couldn't get sick.  Most likely her father had kept her home to help him with something.

"He could have asked us," Danielle groused.  "I'd have been glad to stay home."

"So'd Ayumi.  And Dr. Okusanya's not our father, much as we might like."  Resone was uncharacteristically cheerful-- not that she was normally depressed; normally Resone was an emotional cipher, showing about as much emotion as your typical android.  Today she walked with a spring in her step and a faint, almost imperceptible smile on her lips, which for Resone was what skipping down the street singing would have been for anyone else.

"I wish," Danielle muttered.  "What are you so happy about?"

"Am I?" Resone frowned slightly. "I suppose so.  Look, Danielle."  She turned and gestured at the patiently floating bookbag.  "I can control it."

"Wow." Danielle was not impressed.  "You've been able to control the teek ever since I met you.  You just need to be in the right mood."

"No, I--" Resone stopped in some confusion.  "This is the first time, isn't it?"

"You don't remember?"

"Oh, right." She had lost the faint smile, though, her face reverting to its usual expressionlessness. The only way Danielle and Ayumi knew she wasn't an android was the few times the floodgates had opened, and Resone had gotten violently emotional. Andys did have emotions, but they didn’t have hormones, so that kind of behavior was not a thing they’d do. She never admitted to these episodes afterward, but they were enough to prove that she wasn't an andy.  That, and the fact that andys didn't have psi, according to Dr. Okusanya, and he was the world's top cyberneticist, so he'd know.

They turned a corner and passed a group of guys.  "Woo-oh!" Danielle turned her head to watch them as they passed, leering. "Check out the buns on the blond there!"

"Danielle, you're almost as obnoxious when you do that as the guys are when they do it."

"Come off it, Resone. Either I'm every bit as obnoxious or no one is.  Hidden sexism, you know. Oh, wow!"  Resone followed Danielle's gaze to a stunning redheaded girl.  "Excuse me."

"She's got a boyfriend," offered Resone as advice.  "And she doesn't like you."

"Who asked you?" Danielle slid into an alleyway and transformed, taking male form. Resone had seen this scene before-- she didn't need her precog to tell her how it would come out.  Daniel, now, would attempt to charm the girl, and either get into her pants or get hit.  Most likely get hit.  Resone had already divined the girl's opinion of Daniel.  She didn't need to watch.

//don't you?//

Resone lifted her head slightly.  Someone had spoken.

Who's there?

No answer.

Something was happening. Resone tried to analyze it, but it was no more yet than a prickling at the edge of consciousness.  She'd have to wait for it to come.  Perhaps it had something to do with Ayumi.  She continued on a path for the Okusanya house.

Once there, she paused at the threshold.  She's not here.

`Something was happening. An electric current in the air. Something she hadn't seen, yet. From somewhere inside, Resone felt the first faint uneasy stirrings of fear.  She liked things predictable.  If she saw it ahead of time, she could compensate.  Predictable and safe.  The other way was nightmare.

mommy please don't i'm sorry

No.  The fear went away, like that.  Like a circuit breaker in her mind, shutting off emotion.  She pushed open the door-- and turned, startled, as with a thud her bookbag fell to the porch.

Wasn't controlling.  I must be more careful.  Resone picked it up, brushed it off and went into the Okusanya house.

Dr. Seye Okusanya was working on something.  Resone waited patiently outside his door for ten minutes before realizing that he was far too distracted to notice her when her whole field projected a don't-notice-me aura.  "Excuse me.  Dr. Okusanya?"

He turned his head. "Ah, Resone.  Is Ayumi in detention again?"

"No..." Resone was esper.  More than simply meaning she had psi, it meant she had perceptions outside the sensory realms, and she integrated faster than most.  It occurred to her, now, that Dr. Okusanya had not kept Ayumi home. Therefore, something else had kept her from school.  Due to Ayumi's desire to be a Peacekeeper, that something was more than likely trouble.

"I think she's in danger," Resone said.  "She and Danielle both."

"What?" Dr. Okusanya turned all the way around.  "Why do you say that?"  He then remembered that "why" was a nonsensical question when dealing with Resone. "What sort of danger?"

"When did you last see Ayumi?"

"Why... last night. She said good night to me."

"She was abducted between here last night and the school this morning," Resone said. "Or perhaps enticed.  It's hard to say.  I left Danielle behind on the way here, but I shouldn't have.  I didn't sense the danger."

"What's the danger?"

"I don't know."

"Well, let's have you do a psychometric location, see if you can find her.  And Danielle.  Does the danger know what the three of you are?  Is it targeting you three in particular, or is it going after the population in general?"

"I don't know." The fear was beginning to stir again.  That wasn't right.  Resone was never afraid, not of anything.  But then, she always knew how it would come out.

Ayumi's scarf, from her bedroom.  Ayumi loved that scarf, wore it whenever they were going on a job.  It had to be something with emotional resonances. Resone picked it up and wound it around her tiny hands, picturing Ayumi.

Ayumi Okusanya-- tall, with deep brown skin, the flawless body of an African goddess, Japanese features that might have been delicately beautiful if they weren't pulled into a scowl all the time, and frizzy pink hair.  Everything about her screamed "attitude."  Teachers hated her, and she returned the favor with interest-- unless they were that rare breed of teacher that could see through the tough-girl pose to the wounded child inside.  Ayumi was a full-body cyborg, made so at the age of 5 by an accident that had killed her mother, and now very little of her was still organic, as of course she'd had to transfer bodies every two or three years to accomodate her growth.  The body she wore now was a state-of-the-art android with an interface to her human brain and actual hormonal glands to enable a full range of emotional experience, since unlike an andy Ayumi had a brain that could interpret emotional inputs. It looked, felt, and smelled fully human, and had been designed by her father to Ayumi's own specifications.  

But it was the first body she'd had that couldn't be pegged as a cybe.  The first body she'd had, as a small child, had been crude and robotlike, matching the then-current android technology, and though each new body had been cutting edge, the edge hadn't reached humaniform until now.  

In fact it could be argued that Ayumi's pain at being a freak had been part of what had driven android bodies to improve so rapidly, as her father was the leader in the field and was probably so because he'd been personally driven to make his daughter the best bodies possible.  But having a fully humaniform body now didn't erase ten years of being a freak.  Ayumi couldn't quite believe that people were no longer laughing at her clumsy metal body, and it made her lash out.

At the same time, despite her reputation as a JD, Ayumi was truly committed to helping people.  She wasn't a school nark or a monitor, because she couldn't handle toadying to the Establishment.  But she had, for the past schoolyear and change, used her rep to get the lowdown on the gangs and the deals, and reported to her father, who reported to the police.  Tifaret High was a lot cleaner now than it'd been this time last year.  Ayumi wanted to be a Peacekeeper, and she didn't want to wait the three years until she'd be 18 and it'd be legal, she wanted it now.  She wanted to prove that teens could be effective Peacekeepers too.

When Resone had first detected the dimension warp and recruited Ayumi and Danielle against it, it had been Ayumi who gave the group its strength.  Resone was the brains and Danielle was the guile, but Ayumi was the heart of the three, her passion driving the other two.  Since that time, the three had actually become best friends, despite their differences.  It would hurt, if Ayumi was suffering.  It would hurt, and Resone pulled back, not wanting to see what she would see.

But of course, she saw it. The ice came down, freezing her in perfect control, blocking away the pain, as she saw Ayumi trapped in a genie bottle, shouting curses.  Resone couldn't see Ayumi's body, but could tell where it was likely to be-- hooked into a virtual reality simulator.  Ayumi was inside a computer, and didn't know it.  She was no linerider like Danielle-- she would be totally unable to alter her surroundings, even if she knew it wasn't real.

Resone couldn't see Danielle, even when she held Danielle's mojo stone, but that wasn't surprising. Danielle was quicksilver, a water elemental, flowing and changing shape, with little constant enough to make a firm psychometric imprint.  She did, however, get a very distinct impression from touching the stone. Words, symbols, resolving into a phrase.

OUR LADY OF MERCY HOSPITAL.

"The hospital," Resone said.  "Mercy Hospital.  A virtual reality, and a hospital..."

"What's happened to them?" Dr. Okusanya asked.

"They were lured. Tricked into going to the hospital, separated from the rest of us.  Each of us, one by one.  Dani, they used sex, of course.  Ayumi, they presented with one in need of rescue."

"And you?  How will they go after you?"

"Oh, they already have. Obligation and loyalty.  I'm going in after them."

Dr. Okusanya considered. "They'll be prepared for you, if they're luring you.  I think you need some kind of equalizer."

Resone stood behind ice, insulated, and watched herself say, "Don't worry, Dr. Okusanya.  They don't know me well enough to prepare for me."

***

Resone was a tiny, albino female of fifteen, still not quite 5 feet tall, with a mane of fluffy white hair, watery blue eyes she generally concealed behind extremely dark prescription sunglasses, and a girlish, undeveloped body.  One would think she would be very difficult to disguise.

One would think.

With hair braided and hidden under a short, dark blonde wig in a boy's cut, with dark contacts replacing dark glasses and makeup to make eyelashes and eyebrows look brownish-blond and not white, with tape wrapped around her tiny breasts and a boy's school uniform on, she felt very masculine in a boyish way.  Not Resone anymore.  This was Jason.  Jason turned this way and that, surveying his appearance in the mirror.  He wasn't very objective, of course-- he always saw himself as male, since that was what he was-- but Resone could be objective, and objectively she looked like Jason.  So let it be.  She let herself be Jason, and strode off purposefully, heading for the hospital.

//Something's happening, and you don't know what it is, do you, Belle Resone?//

Nobody here by that name. Sorry.

He walked to the hospital, sensing dimly a gathering storm.  The warp was active.  This was another stage of the strange war the intruders waged.  The hospital was not the hospital.  The street was not the street.  Like traveling between air and water, he stepped onto the street and everything was different.  Yet he couldn't tell exactly how it had changed.  Everything looked the same.  Change of refractory index-- inside, it was the same. It was the outside that was different.

Jason was afraid.

He wanted to be Resone again.  Resone was sheltered under ice, cold and insulated from fear.  But Resone couldn't do this.  They were looking for Resone, so she could never walk in directly under the eyes of the receptionist.

"Young man, where are you going?"

The receptionist was a pinched and dusty old lady with piercing glasses and the smell of moldy fish, not quite drowned by antiseptic chemicals.  "I'm visiting someone," he said.

"It's not visiting hours," the turtle-mouth snapped.

A stained clockface on the wall read a dreary four o'clock.  "When are visiting hours?"

"Not until five."

Hands of the clock spun, aged and rusty things responding to Jason's will.  He was dominating, not like passive Resone.  He was free to act, to control.  "But it is five," he said.

"It's only--" The receptionist glanced up.  Jason worked the same alchemy on her watch as she looked away, so it confirmed the lie. "That's strange.  Where does the time go?"

"The time eaters get it," a tall black man said, and laughed at his own joke.

"Who are you here to see?" the receptionist asked.

The lobby was filled with people, loud and chaotic.  Old smelly women with bulging black handbags as weapons against the world.  Young women in loose t-shirts with huge breasts and screaming dirty children clinging to them.  Snot-nosed brats of 11 or so flinging slingshot spitballs at each other. Dirty unshaven men in undershirts with beer bellies.  And the black man with the spiked dreadlocks, the mishmash mismatched clothing that covered plaid, solids, spots, in bright and loud colors, a ridiculous leisure suit and a ridiculous bowtie, askew, over a Day-Glo yellow shirt.  The man with the piercing grin.

//Something is happening, but you don't know what it is-- do you, Belle Resone?//

Jason pulled a name and a number out of the air.  "Room 23B," he said.  "Rachel Buscaglia.  I'm her brother."

"You have to be over 14."

"I'm 15.  I'm short."

//You're also a girl, girl-child.//

Shut up.  I'm a boy.  "Can I see her?"

Unable to find another reason to prevent him, the receptionist muttered, "I suppose so. Elevators are back that way."  She gestured vaguely.

Jason lost it as he left the waiting room.  The man in the mismatched clothes was following him, and a surge of fear swamped him. Be Resone, cold, controlled. Resone turned to face the man, safe behind a thin but strong layer of ice.  "Excuse me, why are you following me?"

"We're going to the same place," the man said cheerily.  "I'm Rachel's brother, too."

Resone frowned. "Rachel who?"

"Rachel Buscaglia. You remember, girl-- or maybe you don't, oh well.  But we're going to the same place.  You're gonna need help."

"I don't need help. I don't know you."

"I'm the March Hare."  He grinned broadly.  "Also known as the Cat Who Walks Through Walls.  That was a book by Heinlein, long time ago.  Good book."

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

"Resone.  I'm Resone."

"I like your first name better."

"What?"

"Belle. Bella.  Beautiful.  Vous erez La Belle Dame Sans Merci, n'est-ce pas?  The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy.  Ah, Bella."

Resone stiffened. "Don't call me Belle.  I don't go by it."

"Somebody does."

"What?"

"For someone who's supposed to be such a hot esper and have so much on the ball, you can be dense, chère Belle."

"Don't call me that! I'm Resone!"

A white heat threatening to crack the ice.

my belle my beautiful belle come to daddy belle

The ice engulfed.  The anger drained out into the encroaching dark. Why should I care what he calls me?  "I have things to do."

"So do I.  By some strange trick of fate, many of them are the exact same thing as yours.  How's that for coincidence?"

"Hmm.  You're an esper, I take it."

"You know all about me, Bella.  All you have to do is think."

"Perhaps I don't care to."

She headed for the staircase.  Danielle should be found first, because she could hook into the line and find Ayumi. Resone might be esper, but she wasn't a linerider.

"Perhaps not. Where to?"

"Find Danielle."

"Could be rough. I think our friends are about to find you."

"Really." Resone didn't sense any danger-- but then, her senses seemed to be somewhat dulled here. “What am I expected to do about that?”

“Well. You in the mood for a fight, or you wanna hide and keep your powder dry?”

“I think I should hide,” Resone said, looking around. The elevators were coming. 6, 5, 4, on one elevator. 5, 4, 3 on the other. Her eyes fell on a set of double doors that she wasn’t supposed to go through. There.

The March Hare, or the Cat Who Walks Through Walls, or whatever his name was, followed her. “Interesting choice.”

As soon as she was through the doors, she whispered to him. “You are too distinctive. There’s no way I can not be here with you beside me. Go away.”

“Mm, no.” The Hare opened the nearest door. It was an empty examination room, darkened. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t join forces. Hide in here.”

Resone raised an eyebrow. “A fifteen year old girl hides in an empty hospital room with a grown adult, probably in his forties at least, that she doesn’t know. What’s wrong with this picture?”

He sighed explosively. “Bella. Such a correct and careful girl you are. Do it or don’t, but I can’t help you if I can’t talk to you, and we can hardly talk while you’re not here.”

“I think you can talk to me when I’m not here,” Resone said. “I think you’ve done that a few times today.”

A broad grin split his face. “Guilty as charged, but there’s can do the thing, and then there’s can do the thing and still have the juice left to run a mile or jump a fence. C’mon, Belle, I gotta save it for the parkour.”

Resone was used to knowing everything she needed to know. Remain passive, remain quiet, but look at everything. She was legally blind, and her mother couldn’t afford to get her cybeyes – Dr. Okusanya had offered, but for some strange reason her mother hadn’t been willing to entrust the father of a random school friend of Resone’s with doing surgery on her child, even if he was well regarded in a field she knew absolutely nothing about. Imagine that. But she watched everything, and she listened to everything, and if she held still, knowledge just came to her.

This man was an incomprehensible black hole. He was a singularity where knowledge went to die. Resone wouldn’t tolerate that.

With the faintest sag of her shoulders that on anyone else would be an explosive sigh, perhaps with eye roll, Resone went into the hospital room and let the March Hare shut the door.

“I’m going to begin by saying you’re an asshole,” Resone said. “And extremely creepy.”

“Oh, now ‘asshole’ I’ll own to, but when you say ‘creepy’ it sounds less eldritch horror and more Uncle Grabbyhands. If that’s what you’re picturing there then you got it all wrong.”

“You keep calling me by a name that’s not mine. You’ve referred to me as ‘beautiful’ and ‘the beautiful lady without mercy.’”

“A man can’t make a play on words about your name? I was joking, child. Have I touched you? Looked at you anyplace below the chin? But I’ll admit, I’m not used to dealing with kids, and I’ve been around a long time. Was a time they’d have strung me up for talking to you, white girl… if they could catch me. I’m gonna talk the way I know how, but I don’t mean nothing creepy about it. Unless you mean creepy like Slenderman or the man hook door hand story. In which case I absolutely mean it.” He grinned.

“Are you going to call me by my name?”

He sighed. “I suppose. You know, a fellow has as many names as I do, he doesn’t get so hung up on them. And you’ve got a lot of names, too, but then again… I’m guessing you don’t. Can’t read you as well as I’d like, to tell the truth.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Indefinable pressure. Time, pushing at her, and a sense that space was congealing around her. If she didn’t move soon she never would. “Who are the enemy?”

“Well, chère, thereby hangs a tale.”

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

This is all I have on a story called “Welcome to the House of Fun”. It’s quite old; I had to revise a good bit, mostly for cultural reasons (Ayumi’s dad, for instance, originally had a name that was African, but it was an African woman’s first name and the last name is a word but not a name, mostly because in the 90′s and early 00′s we did not have the resources for research that we do now.)

The time stamp on the file before I started working on it claimed I started this in 2001. I’m pretty sure it’s older. Ayumi, Danielle and Resone are a trio of teenage heroes (do not call them magical girls) who are essentially a mishmosh of elements from other stories. In Ayumi I’m counting Asamiya Saki from Sukeban Deka, Cyborg from Teen Titans and The Major from Ghost in the Shell, at least.

There is some stuff in here that is very, very 90′s, DC Vertigo-inspired, that I am likely to pull back on. I may rethink what’s going on with Resone, or maybe not. 

[bewareofchris]

Public Relations 23/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch.  They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev | Part 1 | AO3 Link

A man had decide what he was willing to give up.  Bill hadn’t decided and that must have been why he lost everything.  All those decisions: whether to commit to Virginia fully or stay with his wife?  Whether to love his children or tolerate their existence?  Whether to atone for his past misdeeds or pretend they never happened.  He’d wavered in and out of intentions for so long that everyone he thought would wait indefinitely had decided for themselves how they wanted to be treated.

Bill was left with the thing he’d spent his life pursuing.  His study.  His most precious lover.  The thing that he had thought would bring him happiness.  And he had it still, after he’d lost all the other things he’d never tried to keep.  

Bill wasn’t happy.

Bill was laying on his couch, with a crust of chip crumbs pressed into his cheek, watching nonsense procedurals.  He hadn’t moved since the last time he’d used a bathroom.  And excluding trips to the toilet and kitchen for fresh supplies of snacks, he hadn’t moved at all.

(Not since a skinny man with no bearing on his life, said he didn’t care who Bill slept with.)

He told himself (at first) that he was taking some time for himself.  He’d convinced his brain that his body needed the rest.  When the excuse stretched thing, he laid in a slump and he thought about what he planned to do next.  

All his daydreams were fantastic plots to leave this place he was in and never come back to it.  He imagined plane rides like escape plans.  He could go anywhere in the world.  Libby didn’t want his money but Bill had tons of it.  He was swimming in wealth.  He never had to work a day in his life again.

All that frantic energy he’d wasted on the study had amounted to nothing but this moment.  Discoveries had been made.  Babies had been conceived and delivered.  Women had covered his office in thank you letters and baby pictures and Christmas cards.  He had a scrapbook of newspaper clippings.  He had a certain reputation of infamy.

And he had a crumb-covered couch, and unwashed smell, and a swell of self-pity.

He had a phone with no new messages.  He had a flagging sense of arrogance about how he shouldn’t have to be the one to send the next text.  But a week later and Alec hadn’t so much as sent a hello through.

Bill had thought a lot about possibilities and plane rides.  He’d thought about the merit of throwing himself into anything at all that took him away from where he was right now.  And he thought of how disheveled and out of order his life would be if he didn’t stop and pick it up.

Between one predictable conclusion and the start of another repetitious episode, Bill picked up his phone to say:

How’s the case?

And he thought, if you squinted at the words hard enough you could certainly mistake them for: I miss you.

--If he could have managed it, Hardy would have been pissed.  All his best effort toward anger left him too exhausted to do anything but sit quietly in place and stew.  He just marinated in his anger, letting it simmer under his skin until it followed him into his dreams and out again.

“Well you’re in a mood,” Miller said right at the start.  She was pushing Fred up the path to his front door, looking haggard enough herself to not want to deal with him.  She stopped when she said it, and looked back over her shoulder. “Alright,” she said, “let’s go. Get your coat, we’re going to get something to eat.  Don’t say anything.  I don’t want to hear it.  I’m hungry, and you’re grouchy and we won’t get anything done.”

They found themselves smashed into a little booth in a corner of a nice enough restaurant.  Fred was tucked between his Mom and the wall, boxed in and unable to cause trouble. He had a selection of toys that he didn’t seem to be interested in playing with.  

Miller was staring at the menu with a frown pinched between her eyebrows.  She was managing what Hardy could only hope for. Her anger and discontent was as thick as a cloud around her.  Even Fred was looking across the table at Hardy like he was expecting to be rescued from his upset mother. If the kid had been old enough to understand, Hardy might have told him that there was just nothing that could be done.  Moms were people, and people got upset sometimes.  

“So,” Hardy said.  (He didn’t used to be this awkward.  He didn’t used to talk like he’d never used words before in his life.)  “Has, uh, Tom come back?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hardy stared at the menu laying on the table in front of him.  He considered his heart-healthy options, and found that none of them appealed to him so he settled on the top option.  When he was done (a busy five seconds later), he cleared his throat.

Miller glared at him over the top of the menu.

“How’s the--uh, the job?” Hardy asked.

“Aren’t you chatty today?”  Miller dropped her menu down on the table so it was laying half-over his.  She sighed like a great balloon of overheated air deflating. And then she said, “can’t we talk about anything else?  Not work, and not murder, and not Tom.  Can’t we talk about--what’s happening with you?”

Nothing was happening with Hardy.  He’d been ignoring Bill Masters for a week.  Although one could not count it as ignoring when he had not been sent any messages that required a response.  He was being ignored in equal measure to the effort he was putting in ignoring.  Hardy shrugged his shoulders.

That might even have been the end of it, but Miller looked like she was disappointed.  Hardy was enough of a disappointment to himself without spreading it around. Miller’s disappointment looked like defeat and why wouldn’t it?  Here he was, tucking away his secret ongoing involvement with Bill while Miller was trying to figure out how she planned on living her life.  She was holding it together after a trauma that ripped her family to pieces. She was coping with loss, and grief, and guilt.  

“I,” Hardy found himself saying without any notion of how he intended to proceed.  “I’m waiting for a text.”

“A text?” (Miller was unimpressed.)

“Yes.  A text from Bill?”

“A text from Bill?  Why are you still texting Bill?  Bill does not deserve to be texted.”

“Miller--”

“Any man that can just pack up and leave, knowing what we know about your health.  That’s not a man that you need in your life. And an American? A sex researcher? What have you got in common with him anyway?  It can’t be a lot. What do you even talk about? Oh hello, Bill, seen any interesting…” The humor didn’t fail her but the presence of other families and her own son made her clear her throat rather than continue.  She lifted her glass of water to take a sip. “A text from Bill,” she muttered to herself.

Hardy frowned at her.

“Don’t make that face at me.  I’ve got more experience with men than you do.  If I decide to start texting some other woman that leaves me on death’s door--”

“For Christ’s sake, I’m not on--”

“Then you can sit here and tell me all the same things.  Not on death’s door? You collapsed!”

“Lower your voice,” Hardy hissed at her.  He straightened up in his seat as if fixing the slouch his body preferred would make his health anymore respectable than it was. 

The conversation was interrupted by a very friendly waitress that didn’t seem interested at all in their personal drama.  She made promises of quick delivery on the food and took their menus with her when she left. The quiet she left behind was as brief as a single breath.

“You’re waiting on a text,” Miller prompted.

“I’m not going to tell you about it if you’re going to be judgemental.”

Miller’s expression promised him that regardless of whether or not he explained himself, judgements had already been passed and they were not favorable.  It felt good to have someone on his side.  He was vindicated by Miller’s disapproval of Bill.  Even as misplaced and misinformed as it was, there was a definite, relaxing camaraderie in disliking the same person at the same time.  She managed to even out her expression into something approaching neutral as she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll try.”

(No, she wouldn’t.)

“Bill with his ex-wife and--”

“Why are you waiting on a text?” Miller all but shouted at him.  Her hand slapped the table top in outrage and poor Fred, who had been idly pushing a toy around the table top, jumped.  His little face went lax in shock and his lip trembled. Miller comforted him, but she was hissing, “have some respect for yourself, Hardy.  Slept with his ex-wife.  I bet he did. Accidentally, I assume.  It’s always an accident with men like that.  What happened?”

At some point, Hardy did need to tell Miller that he had never been dating Bill.  He wasn’t dating the man now. He was just hinging a series of silly fantasies on the man.  And it wasn’t fair to hinge his fictional happiness on the man but emotions were never fair.

“He went to talk to her about their children.  It’s complicated. They only separated a few months ago.”

“A few months ago, and he’s already decided that he could move on?  Must not have been much of a marriage.”  

Hardy hadn’t meant to smile, but a certain level of meanness felt good.  He cleared his throat at the tail end of his little grin and said, “that’s enough, Miller.  I told him I didn’t care who he slept with and he hasn’t answered. I don’t know, maybe it’s the end.”

Miller was going to explode, sitting there, biting her lips.  She was putting so much effort into listening to him.  She wasn’t shouting at him about how it was already over, that it shouldn’t have ever begun.  But she was thinking it in very loud thoughts, projecting them across the table.  “That’s a bad thing?” she managed to squeeze through her clenched jaw.

“We’re just friends,” sounded very nearly like a lie.  It didn’t feel like the truth that Hardy wanted it to be.  

“Well, he’ll text you.  If he doesn’t, he’s not a good friend.  Not the sort of friend that would make a long drive to see you on her days off.  Not the sort to make sure you get a decent amount of food once in a while. Not the sort that’s going to help you solve a case that’s ruined your reputation.  A friend like that, well, you’d think maybe you might put a little bit more effort into sending a few more texts in her direction. But if it’s Bill that makes you happy…”

“Are we friends that text?” Hardy asked.

Miller just stared at him as if he were stupid.  But when she spoke, the words were low and uncertain.  “We could be.”

Life had been hell to her.  It had driven her out of her home.  It had robbed her of precious friends.  It had left her alone, and hurting, and hurtful.  

“We should be,” Hardy agreed.  

@it-is-ineffable, @marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @stardust-andwine, @echelongaga, @imnotokaywiththerunning, @heirofsarcasm 

[rolandfaunte]

The Story of Sewing Kit

I guess it kind of starts in the fall of 2016. Up until this point I had had some issues with anxiety/depression, and huge issues with sleep, but nothing that I would have considered to be an emergency. All of the sudden it seemed like accomplishments were becoming less frequent. Before this, when I was happy, each thought that came about in regards to an obligation was accompanied by a bit of energy that could be used to do it. That energy stopped showing up and the list of things that needed to be done began to grow as the likelihood of those tasks being completed began to shrink. I think of it like a car. Before these issues, when the car was required to drive a certain distance, gas would simply appear in the tank. Now, those same distances were required, but the gas no longer appeared. In this metaphor, the gas is provided by the subconscious, or just “the sub” as I like to call it. When you’re hungry, the sub gives you a bit of gas to go to the kitchen or order something. When you’re hungry but depressed, that gas never arrives. What then? Can you create you own? I’ve come to think of consciously-generated fuel as will power, and I didn’t really seem to have any at that time. The truth of the matter is that the sub was getting sick and, as a result, I started slowly dissolving into a pathetic mess. After sleep and motivation were gone, the disease began to target my self-worth. By the disease, I mean the bipolar disorder that at the time I was unaware of but would soon be diagnosed. The pattern of life I was developing mostly consisted of doing nothing or crying. At this point my life sill wasn’t necessarily all that bad, because I would only spend a few hours per day in a truly horrible place and would otherwise just be numb and fragile. This would be changing soon but the issue was still manageable enough that I didn’t do anything about it. In this time period, a typical day would begin with a skipped class and inactivity until around 5 o’clock, when I would retreat to my room and cry for a while about nothing and then just be numb again. My sense of self-worth was very low but I was yet to have any suicidal thoughts or full disconnections from reality. It was bad of course, but nothing compared to what was to come. In the context of the future that I’m now aware of, it’s hard to see this time period as so terrible, though it was certainly worse than anything that had preceded it. In the fall of 2016 I was introduced to Dr. K. We tried a few standard ssris and I took them religiously, thinking that they could bring back an older version of myself but they didn’t work very well. We tried a few different combinations but my decline was accelerating at an alarming rate. Each day of this time period would be the best day I would have for months to come. The episodes of tearfulness and misery became the standard mode of my life. I kept these things mostly private from those I knew well because I found them to be embarrassing and extremely confusing. After a while of this, in the springtime, a new type of episode began to emerge. It was one of infinite bliss and unstable happiness. My self-worth inflated to an amazing degree and I was filled with what felt like an infinite love and sense of connection to all things. I would create things at an alarming pace that all turned out to be of terrible quality but at the time seemed to me to be far more important than anything else in the history of the world. These were my first true experiences with hypomania. These episodes would break ferociously. I remember walking to campus in a state of absolute ecstasy, being extremely impressed with myself and all of the amazing things I would come to accomplish. My genius was absolute and my understanding of the world was absolutely messianic. The introduction of mania made for an incredibly ridiculous life, in which I was either overflowing with energy and ecstasy or begging a god I didn’t believe in to bring about some accident that would kill me. Neither version of the brain could remember the other, and I never seemed to spend any time in between them. I told my doctor of these things and he asked me to more elaborately journal during these moments, which I proceeded to do. When I next went to visit him he said he thought I might have a bipolar disorder and wanted to try a different tact medically. One med, Latuda, was very successful but left me with an unacceptable side-effect called akathisia. When I went to see him after a few weeks we had a lengthy conversation about my sense of the future and my hope for recovery and he regretfully informed me that I was ill to a point at which out-patient treatment wouldn’t be enough and it was time for me to be admitted. On the day I was admitted, I remember laying in some sort of examination room when a nurse entered and asked how I was feeling. Through tears I informed her, “I’m never going to be happy ever again.” I meant that. I was sure of it in ways I’ve never been sure of anything else. At some point before the Latuda I had begun to lose my relationship with reality but it was now gone entirely. I had no sense of what was real and was entirely possessed by the darkest thoughts imaginable, or perhaps even worse than that depending on who is being asked. For those who haven’t been depressed, these types of thoughts remain beyond imagination. When entering the ward I was presented with a line on which I needed to sign my name and write the date. I paused at the part of the paper that required the date and looked up to the nurse in confusion. Her and I were both visibly surprised by the fact that, not only did I not know what month it was, I also didn’t know whether it was 2015 or 2016. I can’t explain how or why, but I simply did not know. It was like looking at a bill at a restaurant and your brain just refusing the put in the effort to calculate a tip, except mine couldn’t even put in the effort to tell me what year it was. In that hospital I felt as though I was joining the ranks of those to whom I was truly similar. The broken and unproductive elements of society who were unable to do anything other than consume resources and spread misery and chaos. I looked at the outlets that fed energy to the medical machines, the nurses and the attendants, the food we ate, and the light that let us see it and saw them all as a waste. Why wouldn’t they just let us destroy ourselves? Why did they insist on keeping us in places where suicide was impossible when it was obviously the best thing for anyone who ended up here? I’ve never in my life spent so much time staring at a clock. The issues with sleep had made a vengeful reemergence and the time spent in the hospital truly felt like an eternity. I remember looking out of the window at a woman walking to work and thinking “I will literally never do that. I will never have a job. I will never contribute. I will never be useful enough to have to be anywhere ever.” When I was discharged, things improved in the sense that I no longer had to live my entire life on one hallway but my life was, to me at least, objectively and inarguably worse than death. I remember saying to myself that I would trade literally anyone’s life for my own. I would become anyone else and do whatever they had to do as long as it wasn’t this. I spent most of my time daydreaming about eternal nothingness. If I were to, today, right now as I write this, compile a list of reasons to not kill myself, it would be long to a point where I would get bored with the task. At that time the list consisted of two things: my family, and the girl I loved. One of the things I’ve come to realize about the disease is that it is a logical genius, and was able to provide me with an unending collection of reasons why those two elements did not belong there. Its mission was to empty the list. As for my family, one of its favorite arguments was that, over time, I would come to bring them far more harm than they could currently imagine. I would suck the goodness from their lives as they tried to care for me, exhaust them emotionally, consume their resources, and burden them infinitely. I would spoil our family’s good name and make them hate me. In a net, long term evaluation of their pain, it would be best for them to deal with my death for a few years and recover rather than have me drain them of life until I finally submitted at a later date, which I was convinced I would. As for my girlfriend, the argument was a bit different. The disease didn’t need me to necessarily excuse my suicide to her but rather find a way to remove her from my life. It told me that she only stayed with me out of a moral obligation, that she resented me secretly for how unimpressive and obviously useless I was. It told me that if I truly cared about her, I would end things between us and allow her to be free of that entanglement which, according to the disease, was something she wanted but could not bring herself to execute. These were two on the list of endless arguments in favor of me emptying the list of reasons not to do what the disease wanted me to. Both elements of the list stood stead-fast, but the disease is a beast against which arguments cannot be won while it still exists, the arguments are perpetual. The memories of that summer are quiet because I wasn’t quite there when they were made. I spent nearly the entirety of every day inside my own head, consumed by some mixture of panic, pain, dread, anger, or sadness, among others. I would wake up in the morning and simply think to myself “I can’t believe I have to do this for another day. I can’t. I can’t fucking do this anymore.” I remember thinking about how I wouldn’t wish it upon my very worst enemy. This was a punishment far worse than death, and yet somehow I had ended up inside of it without ever having committed any obvious crime. I remember sitting by the river with my best friend. This was my favorite place, next to my favorite person, and I felt nothing. It was gone and so was I. That summer moved forward into the fall when I was introduced to a physical miracle by the name of Seroquel. It brought me the most consistent sleep I had had in years, but the dosage was high to a point where my life was extremely muted and I was very dull. Next to depression, this was a miracle. When the dose of Seroquel was lowered and my mind was clearing up I began the process of trying to move these experiences out of my memories and into words and music. Unfortunately, I had never done any sort of recording before so I truly had no idea what I was doing. I was starting from scratch, with no outside help other than google. I learned how to use the different pieces of equipment very slowly, and still had only ever played piano and guitar. I listened to drums more closely to try and figure out how best to use them, as with bass, and finally started using other instruments to supplement the songs. Altogether, the process was absolutely grueling and nearly drove me out of my mind. I can’t even count how many times I worked from the early afternoon until the waking hours only to delete everything I had done. If I had to put a number on how much time was actually put into that album, including the learning process, I would start at 500 hours. Over the months I began to think of Sewing Kit as a potential weapon against future depression, thinking that when the next episode hit and the disease asked “what value do you bring?” I would have something to gesture towards and be able to confidently say “I made something that was worth making.” And that’s that. That’s Sewing Kit.

[ettadunham]

A Buffy rewatch 7x05 Selfless

aka be careful what you... you know the drill

We did it, guys! We made it to the last season! Also, hello if you’re new, and stumbled upon this without context. As usual, these impromptu text posts are the product of my fevered mind as I rant about the episode I just watched for an hour (okay, sometimes perhaps two). Anything goes!

And in today’s episode, it’s Anya time!

Selfless as a title is a word play on the two different Anya’s we meet at the beginning and the end of the episode. Anya or Aud in her old life was a bit of a misfit, but she was also selfless in her earnestness. And the Anya of today is struggling to find not just her place in the world but her entire identity. Her sense of self.

I know that some people dislike and find Anya’s background to be a bit of a retcon. Like how she apparently was always considered a weird person, and her behavior wasn’t just the product of her being a vengeance demon for a 1000 years. And I think those criticisms were in my head during the earlier flashbacks, and maybe that’s why I find those to be the weakest parts of an otherwise excellent episode.

But as the story went on, and we met Anya at different points in her life, I realized, that that won’t be my take here. No, I like that Aud was somewhat of a well-intentioned outcast. It explains why Anya didn’t bother to get familiar with human social norms – she never quite fit them in the first place, and she was even less interested once she became a vengeance demon.

Also, I’m putting this out there without much more elaboration because I don’t have the knowledge to expand upon it, but Anya may be on the autistic spectrum. So her character always having some of her socially non-conforming traits feels in line with that.

This backstory and Anya’s route to vengeance also fills in some interesting parts of her character. Anya was angry with Olaf, but it wasn’t some fiery rage that took her over. And it wasn’t just Olaf she was angry with. Anya felt slighted by the world, not just alone, but rejected by society. She didn’t have anyone or anything to turn to.

There’s also a pattern here of Anya hyperfocusing on something or someone in her life. First it was Olaf – it didn’t matter that the town didn’t accept her, because she had Olaf to build her life around. And when he betrayed her, she had vengeance. Halfrek even remarks upon how Anya wouldn’t enjoy life around her and was all work no play, but Anya didn’t even understand what she meant by that. She had vengeance. Vengeance was her life. And that was enough.

And then, when she didn’t have that, there was Xander. In season 4 especially you can see this singular focus Anya has for Xander. It’s only by season 5 that she even starts to integrate and connect with the rest of the Scoobies – which I think is part of why returning to vengeance proves such a difficult task for her.

Losing Xander made Anya want to return to her old patterns, but she was unable to put all her focus back into vengeance, because she didn’t lose her old connections. Not to the Scoobies, and not even Xander.

Anya’s stuck between worlds. And what’s even more painful, is the fact that she didn’t use to feel that way when she was a vengeance demon. While in the human world she was constantly looked down on and rejected, she fit right in with D’Hoffryn’s family. But now, she’s criticized for not committing to vengeance enough.

And make no mistake, she never felt quite accepted by the Scoobies either. Not all the way. But it was still more than she was used to, and it allowed her to make some real human connections. The first in millennia.

It was enough to keep her grounded to the world and humanity. Enough so that she could find no enjoyment in inflicting pain.

It actually hurt her.

But she felt trapped. If she couldn’t commit to vengeance she had no place with D’Hoffryn anymore, and she had nowhere else to go. So she tried, even if it made her feel horrible, maybe hoping that if she went too far, it’d numb her to the pain. Or that if she passed the point of no return, she could finally focus back on vengeance.

And there’s someone who definitely gets that. Willow.

So, following my big lightbulb moment about how Willow and Anya would actually work perfectly as a season 7 ship, Selfless just proved to be even more fodder to that idea. But you don’t even need to ship it to appreciate the dynamic of what’s happening here.

When Willow meets Anya on campus, and realizes that something’s off when she sees the blood on her hands, she doesn’t confront Anya about it. She knows better than that.

Instead she enters the frat house (it’s always a frat house, isn’t it), already expecting the outcome. She also has a weird moment of Dark Willow as she’s doing a protection spell against the spider monster, which… I wanna talk about that?

So, I distinctly remember interpreting Dark Willow as separate from regular Willow during my first time with the show, someone who emerges when Willow uses magic. Which is a dull take that I don’t really like these days, but I can also see teen-me coming to the conclusion from this scene, seeing the abrupt change in Willow’s personality.

But in reality, that outburst is Willow lashing out at the girl who made the wish that killed all those boys in the frat house. It’s not even just the trauma of seeing all those bodies; it’s the realization of what it means for Anya, and the inevitable confrontation with Buffy.

So instead Willow keeps those details to herself for the time being. She only tells Buffy that there’s a spider demon out for blood, while she goes to talk to Anya herself.

WILLOW:  “Anya, listen to me. You're in trouble. You know it. I'm here to help you.” ANYA:  “You're here to— Well, that's great, Willow. Flayed anybody lately, have you? How quickly they forget!” WILLOW:  “I haven't forgotten one second of it.” ANYA:  “What do you want?” WILLOW:  “I want to help you.”

Anya’s broken repetition of “they got what they deserved”? God. This scene is so good.

Still, when she doesn’t manage to convince Anya, Willow knows what she has to do. She tells Buffy.

Now, I’ll circle back to this scene, because we’ll also need to talk about Buffy, but for our purposes now, I want to highlight how the Scoobies see the situation. Buffy knows that as soon as Anya becomes a real threat, she has to deal with her accordingly. Xander meanwhile refuses to even engage with the idea that they might need to kill Anya to stop her.

And Willow? Willow’s right there in-between. She understands fully the threat Anya poses, but also the inner conflict present. She doesn’t argue or fight Buffy on killing Anya, but she also refuses to help. She doesn’t go with her to support or stop her. She can’t.

When Xander and Buffy argue, they bring up Willow’s case, but Buffy says that it was different, because Willow’s human. However, you get the sense that Willow herself isn’t making that distinction. She’d expect Buffy to try and stop her by all means necessary if it came down to it once again.

But when Buffy tells Xander to help her find another way, it ends up inspiring Willow. So she uses the amulet D’Hoffryn gave her back in season 4 to summon him, and to offer Anya something that nobody else bothered.

A choice.

So, essentially, Willow is the one that saved Anya in this episode. Not by any life-saving grand gesture, but by giving her a chance to decide for herself. Even if it meant for Anya to choose her own death over those she caused recently.

But D’Hoffryn of course had to go and twist that choice, where he instead killed Halfrek to make Anya suffer. This is the most overtly malicious and threatening D’Hoffryn ever gets, living up to his vengeance demon patriarch title. We’ve seen him prey upon these women in their moments of weakness, and here, he finally shows his real colors openly.

Anya’s devastated. This was her oldest, and for centuries, only friend. And she died in her stead. It’s cruel.

But Anya now Is also free. And not just from vengeance, but from her dependence from it. Or Xander. She’s free and she’s lost, but now she has the opportunity to find herself yet again.

And then there’s Buffy, who knows exactly who she is.

(On a sidenote, how delightful is it when Buffy just throws the axe up to the trees to catch the spider demon? I love her so much, you guys don’t even know.)

During the majority of the show, Buffy struggled with her identity, with who she is, what it means, what she’d have to do, what her purpose is… But by season 7, she’s mostly settled into her role, embracing all that came with it.

But that in itself will lead to her struggle this season. Buffy has the power to fight evil, and protect the rest of the world, so she feels responsible to do so. And she knows that she can’t expect someone else to make the hard choices, because there’s no one else. She can’t make someone else wear her burdens, and she can’t trust them to make her own choices for her. No one has the answers. In the end, we’re all just human.

Still, you may ask, isn’t Buffy human too? Doesn’t she make mistakes all the same? And the answer is yes. She can mess up, and if she does, it can affect the lives of everyone around her. That’s why it’s not the final end to Buffy’s arc.

When Faith told Buffy in season 3 that they were the law, she rejected it. But now, she echoes it. Of course, back then, Faith was trying to deflect responsibility, while Buffy emphasizes her own responsibility using the same words. Both roads lead to a sense of superiority nevertheless, it’s just one is an empty façade, masking an inner struggle, while the other is an acceptance of the power and responsibility that was already thrust upon it.

I don’t think Buffy’s approach of taking this all upon herself is the right answer ultimately, and neither does she by the end. But much like with Anya, she doesn’t see another way, and it’s an understandable response to how everyone’s been relying on her to make these decisions for many seasons now.

That’s what stings about Xander’s attitude here. They’ve been all expecting Buffy to deal with things, whether it’s her own trauma or the apocalypse, to take responsibility and make the hard choices for them; and then turn around and judge her for it. It’s also what makes the scene so cathartic, as Buffy calls out Xander on his own hypocrisy.

XANDER:  “You think we haven't seen all this before? The part where you just cut us all out. Just step away from everything human and act like you're the law. If you knew what I felt—“ BUFFY:  “I killed Angel! Do you even remember that? I would have given up everything I had to be with— I loved him more than I will ever love anything in this life. And I put a sword through his heart because I had to.” […] XANDER:  “This is different.” BUFFY:  “It is always different! It's always complicated. And at some point, someone has to draw the line, and that is always going to be me. You get down on me for cutting myself off, but in the end the slayer is always cut off. There's no mystical guidebook. No all-knowing council. Human rules don't apply. There's only me. I am the law.”

Still, Xander has a point in arguing too of course. Someone has to argue for Anya’s humanity and challenge Buffy’s authority on life and death.

It’s also worth mentioning though that by the end, Buffy also closes with the aforementioned “then please find another way”.

Buffy isn’t necessarily shutting Willow and Xander out in the way she’d used to. She just assumed authority, made the call and asked for their help.

Oh yeah, and also, we finally get a resolution to Xander’s lie at the end of season 2. Kind of. It gets kind of brushed past, but it’s out in the open now. After 4 and a half seasons.

I just love this show and its stupid brilliant long character arcs.

[earlylunch]

Getting fired during a pandemic:

I was fired 14 minutes ago. I woke up this morning at my usual 9:01 AM alarm from the iPhone hiding somewhere under my pillow or in between blankets. After chugging down espresso with oat milk and turning on the NYT Daily episode about the stimulus bill, I started going through emails in my pajamas. Loans for small businesses. Wow another promotional email from Postmates, what a surprise. Short-term cash for people making under $99k. Bella Bella Shoes asking me to review the shoes I wore at my sister's wedding. I switched over from my personal email to my work email to find a message from my boss about updates to the company considering the Coronavirus pandemic. Didn’t look great. What followed was worse. My VP had canceled our dailly morning meeting and on my phone was a Slack message from the CEO, “Hey Celeste, do you have time to chat this morning?”. My heart started to pound in double-time and my hands got cold and clammy. I had heard of a few people getting fired within the last week, people that I am close to, and I had considered that my position might be at stake. I thought I was just being anxious about it last week when I told some friends I might be next, but I had been absolutely right.

The next 12 minutes went by very slowly, as I was able to send a few texts to my family about potentially being fired today. “Oh no! Let us know.” I put in my headphones connected to my phone, sat in my bed under 3 blankets and waited for the phone to ring. Finally it did and on the other side of the line was my CEO, anxious and tired sounding but able to squeak out a friendly hello as usual. We shortly discussed the craziness we’re living in with both of our voices strained as we knew what was about to happen. Before we could get too far down a small-talk rabbit-hole, he paused to say, “and I have some bad news”. Then I just let him talk. For the first few moments I was stunned and unable to move, just listening to every one of his words waiting for some silver-lining to magically appear mid-sentence. Then I stopped listening and my mind wandered to all of the meetings I had today for this company, all the work I had done in the past few months and in particular the last week or so. He stopped talking and I figured it was my turn to say something. I took a breath, “Well I’m bummed but I understand the situation”. Silence for a few moments.

He wrapped up with apologies and some mention of communications I’d be getting from the head of HR. I do not remember how we said goodbye. I had caught slivers of what he had said in between my spiraling thoughts and anxious predictions of my future. He said it’s harder for VC firms to get stimulus money, that he’d have to break bad news to people all day, that I might get a reoffer sometime in the fall. He was being extremely kind and thoughtful in his cadence, and I realize he is under an insurmountable amount of pressure and pain. Even knowing that, I couldn’t put aside my anger. Couldn’t put it aside because it is not directed at him, but at the fallout of the virus.

I haven’t moved yet from the spot under my blankets. After crying a little bit and texting my parents, I don’t really feel any better. I am graduating from an MBA program in May and this job was going to be everything to me. I was ready to throw myself in, commit everything to this company, because I believe in the mission and the leadership with all my heart. I was ready to move to a better apartment, and have enough money to do the things that I haven’t been able to do since I’ve been in graduate school. Now I have to rethink it all.

I do have to stop myself before going down this spiral of doom and gloom. I am so fortunate to not be in a worse place. I am writing this from the safety of my parents home, which I know I will always be welcome in. Unlike so many workers right now, I’m not worried about taking care of the finances for my family, teaching my kids from home while maintaining a full-time job, or keeping myself healthy while providing medical care to the thousands of people who are extremely sick right now. Even with my own worries, a vulnerable parent with a heart condition, another parent working in the medical field herself, I am in no position to forget about those who have it so much worse than I do.

Now it’s time for me to get out of bed and push through this day. I probably won’t stop crying for a while but eventually I will have to move forward. I hope anyone who has gone through this in the past few days has any advice on how to feel better, how to not feel like the world is falling down around us. I hope someone has figured out how not to feel like you’re being punched in the throat. How not to feel like you're useless and not valuable. How not to feel like you chose the wrong path in life. How not to feel like your goals and dreams in life are now unachievable. I’ll let you know when I figure that out. Please stay safe, stay inside, be smart and we’ll get through this eventually.

[buffster]

The Yoko Factor (BTVS 4.20)

This is part of my ongoing Buffyverse Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the shows. You can find the BTVS list here and the ATS list here. Gifs are not mine.

All I remembered about the Scooby fight was that it happened. I had forgotten how, and I actually do think it makes more sense now. It wasn’t about their friendship, it was about attacking each of their insecurities and making them feel that everyone else in the group had noticed them too. This was possible because the friendship has been so fractured that no one feels supported or even seen. They have no reason not to think they’re being judged. 

Unfortunately, the resolution to all this never really comes around. There is a ton of good stuff here--Buffy’s increased reliance on herself, Willow’s moving away from her computer skills and into witchcraft as a solution to everything, Xander not feeling respected and seeing Anya as an extension of that, Giles losing his sense of leadership and importance--but we never really get an acknowledgement of any of that until much later. And the real problem that Spike landed on--that the Scoobies aren’t paying a bit of attention to one another--gets a quick patch over but continues to be a problem. Yes, Buffy isn’t judging Willow, but is that a good thing or just a symptom of her ignoring her entirely?  

Spike is the one who comes up with this plan to incite drama, which I do feel makes sense for his character. He’s insightful and incredibly good at stuff like this. It’s also fun to see his perspective on Buffy and how fascinated/afraid of her he is. He keeps insisting to Adam that he needs to consider her a bigger threat. You can sense the admiration beneath the irritation. 

Adam: You feel smothered. Trapped like an animal, pure in its ferocity, unable to actualize the urges within… Clinging to one truth like a flame struggling to burn within an enclosed glass… That a beast this powerful cannot be contained. Inevitably it will break free and savage the land again… I will make you whole again. Make you savage.

This is the episode in which Forrest is killed. He claims his problem with Buffy is that Riley is willing to commit treason over her and turn against their “family”. I would have loved to see some more backstory on Forrest: either have him be an orphan who found his family through Riley and now he feels abandoned or have him have a romantic interest in him. Then you could even have had him join Adam willingly as a way to get his family back. 

Angel’s return also doesn’t fit into the story well. I covered over in Sanctuary why his coming here made no sense, and his drama with Riley was nothing but fan-baiting. It also felt like a bit of a step back for Angel’s character; he always seems less mature over on Buffy. On Angel he seems sad but resigned to the fact that he can’t have Buffy and she comes off as wanting more than he can give. But here he seems like a petty, jealous ex. I don’t see a scenario where he would like Riley, but beating him up, refusing to explain he’s not evil, and insinuating he might have slept with Buffy is ridiculous. The end scene where he says “I don’t like him” in a tone of resigned sadness makes more sense than everything before it.  

Buffy: Look, I… you weren't entirely wrong, what you said in L.A. We don't live in each other's worlds anymore. I can't just barge in on yours and make judgments.

Angel: I'm still sorry.

Buffy: Thank you.

Xander is the one who gives Riley the information on what turned Angel evil. Why does he have this habit of venting inappropriately when it comes to Buffy’s boyfriends (here, and when he tells Dawn Spike tried to rape Buffy)? In the script Xander decides to tell Riley even though it’s clear Buffy doesn’t want him to know, but in the episode it plays like Xander accidentally spilled the beans. 

As far as Buffy’s decision on this, I get it. It’s a bit easier for Willow, for example, to be totally honest with Tara about her past with Oz. She loved him, the wolf thing became a problem, he left. Angel will always hold power over Buffy and she will always have feelings for him, and basically the only reason they’re not together is because they can’t be. How do you tell a boyfriend that if your ex suddenly became human you’d be tempted to run right back into his arms? It’s unresolved and messy. 

Riley: I went a little nuts, you know? I mean, on the one hand, I should believe in us. But, on the other, sometimes things just happen between ex's and then I saw he was bad

Buffy: He wasn't bad.

Riley: Seriously? That's a "good" day? Well there you go. Even when he's good he's all Mr. Billowy Coat King of Pain and girls really-

After their talk they say I love you to each other and then Buffy has to tell him about Forrest. He abruptly leaves, and the cliff-hanger is that he goes to Adam.

Let’s get in to the Scooby drama. It’s clear Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles haven’t been paying much attention to each other lately, but you know who has been paying attention? Spike. 

Spike: Think you're neglecting the past tense there, Rupert. Besides, she barely listened when you were in charge. I've seen the way she treats you.

We’ve seen a few hints that Giles is insecure about losing his job as librarian and, more importantly, Watcher. He was fired way back in season three, but when Buffy belonged to the Council she continued to look to him for guidance and ignored the replacements. When she decided to drop the Council and stop taking orders she also stopped looking to him. She’s the leader now. 

Xander: This is so like them lately. It's all about them and the college life. You know what college is? It's high school without the actual going to class. Well, high school was sort of like that too but the point is, I'm the one working hard to earn a living and it's a huge joke to them.

Anya: They look down on you.

Xander: And they hate you…

Anya: But they don't look down on me.

Xander is struggling to find his footing post-high school, which we actually have seen hints of throughout. The ironic part is Buffy and Willow will be in the same place after college, but by then Xander is finding a place in construction and doing a bit better. Spike suggests they mentioned him going to the military, which was a strange choice. It would be fairly easy for them to shut down having ever said that if it came up. Spike only gets away with it because the fight is so chaotic. 

Willow: I am a whiz!

Tara: She is a whiz.

Willow’s insecurity is about her new relationship with Tara and her friend’s feelings about it. Spike slips up here; he says Xander said she was being trendy but Xander doesn’t even know about the relationship at this point. Spike points out something interesting here--Willow isn’t as focused on her computer skills lately. But that’s not something she or anyone else will be concerned about for awhile. 

Spike doesn’t say anything to Buffy, which makes sense because she’s sort of the center of this whole universe. Buffy has a lot of concerns, but her friends not liking or needing her isn’t one of them. The interesting thing about all this drama is that none of the friends care a bit about what the others are going through; they’re too focused on their own drama. Buffy and Willow don’t think about Xander’s employment issues, Buffy and Xander don’t think about Willow’s sexual preferences or her obsession with wicca, and Buffy, Xander, and Willow don’t think about Giles’ lack of employment in any real way.

Tensions escalate when they all convene at Giles’ house because everyone is overly sensitive (Buffy is totally lost). 

Giles: You never train with me anymore. Adam's gonna kick your ass.

Buffy: Giles?!

Giles: Sorry! Didn't mean to be so honest. Terribly sorry.

After seeing Forrest die, Buffy isn’t eager for anyone to come along with her. And that just further taps into their feelings of inadequacy. 

Xander: And if I did join the army I'd be great. You know why? Because maybe they'd give me a job that couldn't be done by any well-trained Border Collie.

Willow: Sure, you'd be wonderful in the army -- you think the umbilical cord between you and Anya would stretch that far?

Xander: I knew it. I knew you hated her.

Willow: Hey, I'm not the one being judgmental, here. I'll leave that territory to you and Buffy.

Buffy: Judgmental? If I was any more open minded about the choices you two make my whole brain would fall out.

Xander: Oh. And superior. Don't forget that. Just because you're better than us doesn't mean you can be all superior.

Buffy: Guys, stop this. What happened to you today?

Willow: It's not today. Buffy, everything's been wrong for a while. Don't you see that?

Buffy: Willow, what do you mean things have been wrong? Things don't have to be wrong, do they?

A major problem with the Scooby friendship is that Buffy is the leader--and she is both too distracted and too inclined to ignore emotional issues to lead effectively. Buffy is an avoidance type and so the entire group avoids talking or working through their feelings with each other. This is something Giles noticed in Once More With Feeling but it never gets fixed. The group is missing someone like Faith or Spike...someone who would be more willing to call out issues and bring them out in the open. Buffy hates that, but sometimes it’s necessary. Just look what happened to everyone in season six...

Character Notes:

The Initiative: They want Riley back. They (correctly) realize they can’t harm Buffy if they ever want to bring him back into the fold. When the relationship between them ends they do eventually lure him back, so good call there.

Spike: We learn he can’t even point a useless gun with the chip in his head. It appears to be activated by intent to harm rather than ability, which makes sense. He lists his past fun night outs as deflowering a virgin princess, killing a minister mid-sermon, and seeing the Sex Pistols in ‘76. 

Adam: His favorite Beatles song is ‘Helter Skelter’. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Red and Green Cloud - part 3

Standing at the counter in his bathroom, Lance was trying to fight against the rising panic attack by forcing down deep breaths. Only, it wasn't working. He'd been in there the better part of half a varga... No. They were on Earth... so it was closer to... closer to... he couldn't think... Shit... Hitting the panel next to the door clumsily, Lance staggered from the bathroom towards his and Keith's room on the Telula. After the initial excitement? of him putting his foot in and announcing to everyone that he and Keith were married, the afternoon felt lighter with that out the way. He'd been able to enjoy showing all the animals on the farm to his team, and chasing Cosmo away from the chickens who'd been squawking in fear as the dopey animal tried to play with them. Lucky for the wolf, he hadn't killed any of them, or he'd be being served for dinner on Christmas Day instead. Dinner had been a little tense with his whole family staring at him like he'd committed some grave sin for sitting with his team and Keith's on a whole other table to avoid listening to the aunts continuing to judge Keith. Keith wasn't any of the words they'd thrown his way. He hadn't corrupted him. He hadn't lead him astray. He wasn't anything other than his best friend and the man loved fiercely. Not all of the aunties felt the same, their husbands quiet in the argument because they'd know no peace if they butted in, it was just... Great Aunt Sara was his grandfather's older sister, or something like that, and being the oldest held considerably sway with the rest of them. She had also lived to make his mother's life a living hell if a single hair or speck of dirt was out of place on them in church. He was still scared of her.  Standing up for Keith in front of her was the first time he'd ever talked back to his aunt in his life, but Keith was more to him than she could ever know. If she'd insulted him, he could have taken it, but go after his husband and he was liable to lose his head. Letting himself into their bedroom, Lance nearly tripped over his feet on the way to their bed. He'd told Keith to keep sleeping because he was intending on taking a shower. Knowing that today was the day they were burying Kre'el, his husband didn't push to shower with him, understanding he needed space. Sinking down on Keith's side of the bed, he shook his lover out of his dozing state. Sleepy purple eyes blinking at him with an adorable formed on Keith's lips. Rather, it would have been adorable if he could breathe"Shit... I've got you baby"Pulled down into Keith's lap, Keith placed Lance's hand on his chest before covering it with his own. His other hand moving to cup Lance's face "Feel me breathing? Breathe with me babe... you're ok... in with me... and out..." It was exactly what he'd been doing in the bathroom. In through his nose, holding and letting it slowly out through his mouth. So why was it when Keith was there, he managed to do as he was told. His heart was pounding, his body tense, his chest felt like it was filled with with turns, but the way Keith was looking at him... He could finally get his lungs to listen. He could finally find his breath"So good, babe. So good. Just like that... I've got you"Nodding, Lance sucked down another breath, feeling Keith's soft skin beneath his hand. So soft and warm. So real. His heart beating strongly... God... Keith was alright... He was alright... He wasn't burying Keith... Letting out a choked mewing noise, Keith pulled him up to hide his face his neck. Hand moving to rub against Lance's neck"Shhh... you're ok... you're ok, my love...""Sorry. It came... out of nowhere""No. It's ok... you're ok"Continuing to breathe in and release while talking slowed his sentences "Couldn't calm down""Don't be sorry. You're ok, now""Ok" was open for interpretation. He'd expected one the previous night, when everyone wanted to talk about him. Not when he was taking a shower and blood had dripped onto his foot after blowing his nose in the shower"Yeah... yeah... Sorry for waking you up""Babe, its fine. Do you want to cuddle for a bit?"Nodding, Keith kissed his hair "Ok, hold onto me" As romantic as it was that Keith didn't want to tip him from his lap, his husband narrowly avoided a knee to the groin as they tried to arrange themselves, before ending up with Lance half laying across Keith's chest. Sighing as he rubbed his cheek against Keith's smooth skin, Lance weakly gripped at his boyfriend's right hand with his left one. His face felt all tingly, especially his lips. His mind was spacey, unable to focus on much at all. Reaching up with his left hand, Keith ruffled his hair. Lance flinching at the unexpected feeling, his anxieties deciding to be quiznakking annoying when all he wanted to do was enjoy Keith's hold"What happened?""Blood nose... When I saw the blood I thought about you and I was thinking about burying Kre'el and then it kind of merged... I tried breathing through it, but couldn't calm down""It's alright. I'm alright"Lance cast a glare in Keith's direction feeling slightly patronised, head turned so his chin was digging into Keith. It was stupid. Ridiculously stupid"It's stupid""Babe..." Lance's anger flared, he didn't know what he was feeling angry for. The Cuban's voice oozed bitterness as he betrayed his words by settling back against his husband "I was supposed to be doing better. We've been here over night and I've had a stupid attack already. What if something bad actually happens? What am I going to do then?! What happens if I freak out in front of the kids? I scared them so badly before... I made them cry... they... they wouldn't leave me alone with the kids in case I had a flashback or an episode... I don't want to... I don't want to be like that with them. I don't care if they don't remember, I do..."His sore chest was growing tight again. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and forced himself to mentally count to six before releasing it. Moving his free hand to curve of his lower back, Keith dragged his fingertips across the exposed skin causing goosebumps to erupt across his flesh"Babe... shhh. I think you're so scared that something is going to happen, that you're stressing yourself out. We talked about this on Daibazaal, about recognising your triggers""It came out of nowhere. The hot water upset my sinuses after I blew my nose""It came out of you thinking about the funeral today. You've made so much progress""I relapsed barely two movements ago. I nearly had an attack yesterday and I did this morning...""You're scared. But I'm here for you. And so is everyone else. You won't be alone unless you ask to be alone""Isn't that like babysitting?""No. Our teams aren't from Earth, remember. It's you sharing Earth with them""I still feel... it's been one freaking day and I feel like I'm slipping back to who I used to be after Allura died""You're not. I promise you're not"Exhausted, Lance could feel himself drooling slightly onto Keith but didn't have the effort to move "How do you know?""Because you're letting us help you. Allura's death left you so shaken, you didn't know how to let us in. Now you have, and now you have someone who doesn't judge you""I feel like you should. Dios... it was so much easier when Red was in my head. He... he would ease everything, and knew everything going on in there. When he left, I didn't know how to cope with the loneliness. He was my last connection to Allura and then he was gone too. I handed my bayard over because I didn't want to remember... I don't want to fall back into drinking all the time to feel nothing""You're not going to""You don't know that. Papi even brought up my mental health in front of you. I was... drinking so much... and popping all the painkillers I could get because I felt so cold and wrong in my body""Do you still feel wrong?" Lance yawned, before trying to think of his answer. Keith stopping the movements of his fingertips to place his hand flat"Babe?""I do. And I don't. Some days I want to claw my skin off, and some days I find myself forgetting that this body is weird. I don't know if I love my body, or if I'm proud of it anymore, but I'm like... trying to be ok with it. I think coming off of Daibazaal is the wrong time to ask"Lance didn't know if that sentence made any sense to Keith. He hoped it would. He was too drained to backtrack and do the "think""You know I love you, don't you? And that this body of yours doesn't disgust me""I know... can we cuddle now? I can't keep up with talking""Of course we can. It's better when you're here to cuddle"His husband was a goddamn cuddly octopus and Lance wasn't going to complain once for it. Lance was starting to doze off when his nose started bleeding again, Keith reaching over the edge of the bed to retrieve his shirt to press against the slow bleed. Though Keith had branched out into more than just a plain black t-shirt, Lance wasn't happy that he was bleeding onto his husband's shirt, black or not. He'd been so close to napping... too close. Farm chores didn't wait for everyone to be functional humans"We have tissues for this reason""Too far"The tissues were on his bedside table instead of Keith's, but he still could have reached them, they were pretty much in the middle of the bed. He didn't have enough brain power to debate these facts, it was redirecting to Kre'el. Pigs. Chickens. Goats. Hover-trolley and shovels "Ok. You should get up and shower. We need to head to the barn, check the animals and grab the hover-trolley... I'm going to deal with this...""Babe, you're still exhausted""I know. But the day won't wait just because it had a lousy start""Other than your panic attack, it hasn't be a lousy morning. Early morning cuddles, more napping, cuddles with very naked boyfriend who seems to have forgotten he's naked"Squeezing his arse to drive home how naked he was, Keith shot him a smirk. Lance blushing over the fact his junk was rubbing against his husband's hip the whole time "Why didn't you tell me...?""Because it's just you and me. And you're beautiful""You're so lame. Cool Keith would never say this""Cool Keith is whipped. Cooler, older, more grizzled"Groaning, Lance rolled off Keith, reaching for the tissues as he did. You compliment a guy in confusion once, then he brushes you off, and teases you for the rest of your life over it"Nope. There he is. I told mami we'd check the animals. We're late as it is" *Lance felt like his eyes were filled with sand as he resisted the urge to give up on feeding the animals. They'd stayed in bed too long, the cows uncomfortable from not being milked. Kalternecker going out of her way to repeatedly head butt at him until he was forced to send his team off to pick up the slack under Keith's guidance. Lance could have set the milking machine up, but kind of wanted to spend a little time with his prized girl. Lucteal and Daehra were sent to feed the chickens. Being new to the farming lifestyle, the novelty of all the animals had Daehra taking photos of everything, most probably to send to Annla. Lucteal on the other hand was more cautious. He seemed to have developed a phobia of pigs over night, despite having happily patted one of the young sows the day before. Their family farm was one of the few in the area with government approval to breed. The fact they even had surviving farm animals was a miracle. Leaving the pigs and goats to Keith. His family farm might be predominantly Altean juniper berries, and despite the fact that he'd planted probably half of them on his own, he preferred the animals. There was nothing quite like Earth animals out there. Filling two pails three quarters full, the animals were all taken care of by the time he'd finished milking Kalternecker. Setting up the milking machine for the rest the herd, Lance was careful as he carried the pails to join the others near the chickens. Keith had pulled the hover-trolley out from behind the barn, leaning against it as if he'd been farming all his life. Unlike him, Keith made for a hot farmer. Sweat on his brow and a relaxed smile playing on his lips, which only grew as Lance approached "Hey, babe. Everything alright?"Lifting the pails, Lance nodded"Yep. I just need to take these up to the house""You're the boss here. What do you want us to do next?""Have you guys had breakfast?"Daehra flashed him a happy smile, then went right back at staring at the chickens again"We ate while you and Keith slept. Earth has such odd hours""Ok. Why don't you guys head back to ship. I'm going to drop these off then I'll meet you there?"Dropping milk off was no big worry. It wasn't like he hadn't done it a hundred times before. Pushing off the hover-trolley, Keith moved over to kiss his cheek"Are you sure you don't want a hand?""Nah, I've got this. I was thinking we could head to town this afternoon? So maybe call Acxa and let her know? I've got some GAC in the main armoury, and I want to pick up small presents for everyone. I know mami would have made sure we all of gifts, and I've got your gift, but I want to...""Babe, I get it. You didn't need to get me a gift""What kind of husband would I be if I didn't. I'll be ok. I kind of want to talk to my mum anyway""You sure?"Was he sure about talking to his mother? Nope. Did it need to be done? Yep"Yeah. I'll see you soon""Take your time. If you need me, I've got my comms""I know. Now go call your team and eat. I think I can find my way around my own family's farm"Keith gave him a playful swat"I don't know. We're both hopeless with directions""Don't go lumping me in with you. Now hurry up. If papi catches us, he's going to have us doing all kind of jobs that I really don't want to do""Oh, you're playing hooky?""Keith. Babe. Love of my life. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to you saying words like "hooky"""It's still not as bad as "hinky"""Hinky is a perfectly legitimate word. Now take that hot farming arse of yours and go away. You already stole all my attention this morning"Kissing his cheek again, Keith was off, walking his fine arse back to the hover-trolley. The jeans he had on were criminal... and with how form fitting they were, they were probably his instead... or were his. He could watch Keith in those jeans all damn day. Carrying the pails into the kitchen, it was already chaos. Rachel was playing with her phone, Marco was feeding his face and his father was hidden behind a newspaper. Placing the pails on the sink beside his mother, his mother took her hands out the sinks and flicked the bubbles off before wiping her hands on her tea towel. Knowing the routine, Lance leaned down for his mother to kiss his cheek "Thank you, mijo. I didn't know if you were awake yet""Sorry mami, we went straight down to the animals. They don't really have animals on Daehra's planet so she's taking photos for her little sister" Throwing her spoon down in her bowl with a clatter, Lance flinched at the sound as Rachel snarked"Yay for them. It's nice to know you don't have time for your own family because you're so busy with them""Rachel! Your brother has only arrived home yesterday, give him some space""Space. He's too busy in space for us. He hasn't even called us since being you came home""He called in with me. Stop giving your brother a hard time. He's been through a lot""He's always been through a lot. I'm going out. I'll be home for dinner""I need you here...""You have Lance, and his team. Forget it, mami. I've got things to do"He didn't need this right now. Rachel had ignored him most of the previous night, and he'd stupidly thought that it was just their sibling rivalry "Rachel...""Save it, Lance" Leaving Lance standing there, tears gathered in his eyes. He was so sick of fighting "Mijo... she doesn't mean it. She's been worried about you""I know... but it... I wasn't in a good place to talk. There was still a lot happening...""Your friend? The one you're going to bury?""There's that..."His mother wiped his wet eyes, her smile soft and kind"... there's some other stuff I want to tell you. Can we sit down?""Jorge, put your paper down. Lance needs to talk to us" His father went about folding his paper up as Lance's mother ushered him to sit between the two of them. First thing first was removing his gloves. Keith was the only one he was comfortable enough to show his hand to. His mother knew what had happened, but he couldn't remember if he'd showed her. If he was going to face his demons, he needed to be honest. Placing both hands down on the table, Lance stared at his mottled hand. He still really hated it"Oh, mijo...""It's not as bad as it looks. The pod healed the... healed where they crushed my hand. They took my finger because they wanted a sample of my bone..."Letting out a shaky breath, he didn't want to burden his family, but he also didn't want to keep hiding "I want to tell you most of it... I do... but I'm still working on it. When you brought up what happened last time I was home... it hurt. I didn't... I couldn't deal with things properly. It wasn't good. I... we were both tortured. Keith was hurt too. They messed with his wrist but it healed..."Hushing him, his mother pulled him into her hold"My baby... you don't have to force yourself""I... I need to tell you things. I need to... tell you what it was like for me when I was home. I knew you all wanted to help, but the things we've seen and done... I've killed people, mami. Killed dozens of people. Not just bad Galra... the people we couldn't save... bad people... and I died. Allura was going to die, so I threw myself in the way and took the blast. She used her powers to bring me back... but... I think... I felt like I came back wrong. No one knew it happened... I didn't know they didn't know, I thought they just didn't care... that's when the nightmares started again. I was in the astral plain... running and running in this thick blackness with no one there. I've been so cold ever since, like I'm... like I'm dead and alive at the same time... but... but losing Allura... She chose to die over being with me. I know she had to, and I would have made the same choice... but... it... it was too much for me. I kept seeing her. All day, every day... always there even when I didn't want her... I wanted her to come back.. and... it was like she was mocking me" Lance shook his head"I just wanted to feel alive. I didn't want to keep scaring everyone. I didn't want to keep tearing our family apart. I saw how you all looked at me. I was practically a stranger... and I couldn't let you in. It... you guys went through hell when the Galra were here... I wanted to keep it inside because... I love you all so much. When I got that job on Erathus, I thought I'd be happy. But things went to shit and the guy I was working for was evil. He wanted the red lion at any cost... I... I have brain damage and a phobia of large bodies of water because of him... to go with the PTS and depression... and panic attacks... I wasn't doing... I wasn't coping properly. Not until Keith came along. He needed help and wouldn't leave me alone... I accidentally let slip what happened to him, and he got so... he was so mad for me. He's been so good, mami. So good. And so understanding... I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I didn't want you to be ashamed of me" "Mijo... you're our precious son. You're always going to be my precious son. Your father and I aren't ashamed of you. We're proud. So proud. Nothing you tell us will change that, right Jorge?"Lance's father wasn't a huge hugger, but getting out his chair, he wrapped his arms around Lance "You are our boy. We're proud of you, no matter where you are""Thank... thank you... I'm so sorry I messed up... I'm sorry... I'm doing better... I have a therapist, and Coran... and my team... and Shiro... and Keith. I couldn't have made it without Keith. I... my friend who died, she was the one behind everything that happened to me. She... was Altean. She... I didn't want to come home so soon, but she was a mum. She was caught up in this ridiculous war... the way she talked about her daughter... I wanted to come home and be with both of you. She... might have done some horrible things, but I think in her heart she was just hurting..."Hushing him, his mother had been repeating "oh, mijo" softly as she spoke. Tilting his face up, he pressed a kiss to forehead with that ever infinite loving smile of hers"Mijo, I don't understand but I trust you know what you're doing. I went to town this morning. There are flowers for your friend and for Allura in the living room. Don't worry about the chores this afternoon" Lance's father released him to sit back down. His mother kissing the top of his head before releasing him, letting Lance wipe his face dry"Is this Keith of yours any good with mechanics?"Snorting, Lance nodded. His mother glaring at his father who simply shrugged "He lived in a shack alone for a year. I'm sure he knows a thing or too. I want to take our teams into town after we bury Kre'el. Is that ok, mami?""Of course it is. This is your home, mijo. You know that, don't you?"He didn't used to, but now he felt like maybe he belonged there more than he had in the last two years "Yeah, I'm home... there still so much I want to talk to you about, but I should head back to my team. Keith worries way too much""He's a good boy. He wasn't scared off too much by the family, was he?""No... no, he took it better than I did. Probably because he doesn't know Spanish... I'm sorry for causing trouble, but I'm serious about Keith. We've... brought an outpost... and we're going to transition out of our current jobs to make this work... I love him, mami. I loved him before I even started dating Allura...""Make sure he knows he can come talk to us about anything. I'd love to talk to him some more. He's such a sensitive young man""He used to be the angriest little emo you've met. I never thought he could be this soft... I still get scared I'll wake up and he'll be gone. I have no idea what he sees in me""He's see you. Now off with you. I still have cooking to do. Make sure your teams know to come for dinner""I will, mami. I love you. And I love you too, papi"Catching his arm as Lance rose, his father held it firmly"Your mother is right. We love you, and we're proud of you. We don't understand what you went through, but we love you"Lance pulled his dad into an awkward hug lasting for a few ticks before pulling away"Thanks, papi. I'll talk to Keith about helping with things. I think he's slightly scared of you""Smart lad. Well, he's part of the family now, he's got a lot to get used to""I know... He lost his father at a young age... He's kind of awkward, and doesn't think he's that great with words, but if you give him a job, he'll make sure he does it properly... He's also really strong, he's got those Galra genes""Lance, you're giving your father all these ideas. Rest. Enjoy your time here. It'll fly by before you know it" *"You've been crying"Jumping out of his skin, Lance clutched his chest. One tick he'd been walking up the ramp to the Telula, the next Keith was scaring the quiznak out of him as he held Kosmo back "Dios, Keith! Warn a guy. I was a million miles away""I noticed. Kosmo's been looking for you. He destroyed our in his hunt"Kneeling down, Lance held his arms open, looking slightly stupid with two large bunches of flowers in his hands. Releasing the wolf, he charged right to Lance "My puppa! I'm sorry. I was talking to my parents"Nuzzling into Kosmo's fur, Lance enjoyed the feeling "How did it go?""We kind of talked... I started to talk. It's a lot for them, so I'm going to take it slow. But it was good... it was things I should have said before. I'm sure they have questions, but... yeah, it was a start. Papi's already got you lined up to help him tinker with the tractor..." Realising Kosmo, Lance gave him one last pat before walking over and placing the flowers down on one of the cargo boxes. Coming up behind him, Keith looped his arms around Lance's waist "You did good, babe. Do you want to me about it?""No... I mean, it was just... my hand and... mostly telling them about the brain damage. We don't really know what it's about... my sense of time is messed up, and sometimes I can't put things together... so it's not as bad as it could be... Mami, gave me flowers for Kre'el and Allura""We're ready to go when you are. Or I could come up there alone with you?""I don't really want to ruin this for the others. We... we'll bury her alone, then I'll take them up there later. Today's been emotionally fucked up... so I don't know how I'm going to react when she's finally gone""Ok. It's your call. My team's going to come to town with us. Acxa's stop feeling weird about dating Veronica without her being here""I don't want that. I want her to be happy... maybe I'll talk to her this afternoon... or maybe we should just ruin the surprise and tell her that Veronica will be here""It's only a few more quintants""Babe, we're on Earth. It's days here""You know what I mean. Now, is there anything you need to do?"He didn't want to eat, but not eating wasn't healthy"Breakfast? I should eat something. I didn't eat up at the house. I need to talk to Rachel too. I scared her. Can you remind me?""Of course. Do you want me to try talking to her?" Lance appreciated the gesture"No, baby. I scared her, so I should be the one to talk to her. She's been worried and feels like I've replaced my family with you and my team, because I didn't really reach out to anyone but mami. I want to... make her understand that it's not her personally""As long as you're not trying to take everything on alone again""Maybe a little... it's my family. Our family. But I rattled them and scared them all over again""When you talk to your parents about it next, can I be there? I won't say anything, if you don't want me to... I just want you to know you don't need to be alone... you don't need to take all of this on your shoulders alone. I'm your husband, idiot" Turning in Keith's arms, Lance nodded. There were things he didn't know. Things that Keith did... Things that he still wasn't strong enough to admit to his parents alone"I'd like that. I know they'd like that too. I think I said we bought an outpost together... so they're probably going to be pretty upset about it... They're good at hiding it when I fuck things up... Did I do the right thing by talking to them?"Carding his fingers through the longer side of Lance's hair, Keith sighed softly "Yeah. Yeah, you did. You're not a burden. You're not a fuck up or an idiot for real. You're none of those things. Your parents love you so much. Letting them in, they're going to worry, but we're working through things. We have a plan in place. You're getting help, and I'll... I'll be seeing someone too... about my childhood and the things still in my head"Lance let out a soft sob, clinging to Keith harder"I don't deserve you. I never believed I could love someone like this. Someone like you. You were always my dream. My ideal. I was so fucking jealous of you... that I didn't understand what I could do to be better to catch up to you. Thank you... for not giving up and walking away""Lance, I've told you this before, if things were the other way around, you wouldn't walk away. I know how stubborn you are. Even if I yelled and screamed at you, you wouldn't have let me go through any of this alone. You're so fucking strong. Stronger than anyone I know. And I love you. I've loved you for so long...""I never thought it would be like this. You and me. I thought we'd probably end up yelling at each other or fighting all the time. You're so fucking good with me. You treat me like I'm something more than I am""I treat you with the love and respect you deserve. You've always had so little faith in yourself. But look at all you've accomplished. You saved us on that ship. You shouldn't have been able to move, but you saved us both""I fucking love you. I love you so much... I promise I'm trying... I want to be everything you need""I know, you do. And you are. You need to eat now""Yeah. But hey... I love you""Dork. I love you too" *Leading Keith up the hill, his husband pushed the hover-trolley with Kre'el's coffin while Lance carried the shovels and flowers. It'd been a long time since he'd visited what was once one of his favourite places on the farm. The memories too raw, and Allura never came back for him... He'd come to the top of the hill to talk to her. To beg her to come back... Reaching the summit, the view was the best on the farm. Fields of Altean juniper berry bushes swayed softly in the breeze. Sitting where he'd placed it, the wooden cross his papi had made for Allura had stood up well against the weather. Setting the trolley down a few feet away from the grave marker, Keith moved over to squat near the cross"Allura?""I'd come up here to talk to her sometimes. I knew the Allura in my head wasn't real, and I had no place to... to visit her""It's a nice place""It was my favourite. You can see all the fence boundaries from here. At night you can see the lights from town. It's been a while since I came up here""Why don't you talk to Allura while I start? You brought flowers up here too, I'm sure she'd love them" Two bouquets. One a mix of sunflowers with all kinds of foreign flower. The other white lilies and daisies..."I don't know who to give which one""Why don't you give the roses to Allura? You loved her babe. And that's ok. Take your time and talk to her. Let her know what's been going on. I'm sure you know she'd be happy for you. Happy for us""Yeah... thanks..." Taking a shaky breath, it didn't feel right to leave Keith starting to dig Kre'el's grave, but Keith was right. As usual. Walking over, Lance sat down in front of the wooden cross, his fingers tracing Allura's name as he tried to think of where to even begin. So much had happened. Too much for just one afternoon. But like anything, all he could do was start at the start and go from there"Allura... I'm home..."

[lastsonlost]

Aziz? redemption ?

AZIZ DIDN’T FUCKING DO ANY GOD DAMN THING WRONG!!!!!!

God, I love being white,” said Louis C.K.

“Here’s how great it is to be white,” the comedian went on: “I could get in a time machine, and go to any time, and it would be fucking awesome when I get there. That is exclusively a white privilege.”

The bit, part of his 2008 special Chewed Up, was emblematic of C.K.’s approach: poking fun at the inequalities of American society, while simultaneously acknowledging the ways they benefited him.

Contrast that with a set he performed in December 2018, a little over a year after he admitted to masturbating in front of women without their consent. During the December appearance, apparently at a comedy club on Long Island, C.K. joked that Asian men are “all women” and poked fun at school shooting survivors and gender-nonconforming teenagers, according to BuzzFeed News.

“They tell you what to call them,” he complained of teens who use the pronouns they/them. “Oh, OK. You should address me as ‘there’ because I identify as a location. And the location is your mother’s cunt.”

Imagine thinking the best way to resurrect your career after admitting to sexual misconduct is to mock trans people and Parkland gun violence survivors.

2018, during which his standup special and the wide release of his film I Love You, Daddy were canceled, seems to have wrought a change in C.K. Where once his comedy offered a fresh look at established power structures, he now seems set on ranting about kids today and their pronoun choices.

Fellow comedian Aziz Ansari has followed a similar trajectory. He once decried sexual harassment in his act — and addressed the issue in a nuanced way on his show Master of None. But in 2017, a woman told the website Babe.net that he had pressured her for sex — Ansari said he had believed everything that happened between them was “completely consensual,” and that he was “surprised and concerned” by her account. 

After the incident, his comedy took on a different tone: In a fall 2018 appearance, he made fun of online debates about cultural appropriation and complained that nowadays, “everyone weighs in on everything,” according to the New Yorker.

The bigotry in C.K.’s set is disturbing, especially coming from someone who seemed at one time to have a relatively clear understanding of how power works in America. But what is also striking about C.K. and Ansari’s post-#MeToo material is its banality. Before they were publicly accused, these men wrestled with thorny questions of identity and power in ways that, while not always satisfying, were usually thought-provoking. After the allegations, they began parroting tired complaints about political correctness.

Of the many people accused of sexual misconduct as part of the #MeToo movement, C.K. and Ansari seemed like they might be uniquely equipped to reckon with the allegations against them, perhaps even adding something to the public conversation around #MeToo. Instead, they have retreated into boring and offensive stereotypes, perhaps playing to those who never thought they did anything wrong.

We’re all worse off for their decision, missing out on the art C.K. and Ansari might have created if they’d been willing to really face their accusations, and robbed of the opportunity to see two intelligent and thoughtful men really wrestle with the implications of #MeToo. In a time when more and more of the accused mull their comebacks, it’s natural to wonder what real redemption — complete with an acknowledgment of harm and a commitment to atonement — might look like. Apparently, Louis C.K. and Aziz Ansari will not be the ones to show us.

Louis C.K. used to talk about violence against women. Now he makes fun of genderqueer teens.

Before #MeToo, Louis C.K. was beloved by many for his often self-lacerating comedy. In his standup and on the autobiographical FX show Louie, he portrayed himself as a sad-sack weirdo disturbed by his own sexual urges — he once called himself a “prisoner” of “sexual perversion.”

C.K.’s work could be offensive, as when he complained that he missed being able to use a homophobic slur (and claimed, unconvincingly, that the way he used it had nothing to do with homophobia). But some hailed his comedy as feminist, and he showed a remarkable ability to mine humor from the dangers and biases women face — a difficult feat for a male comic.

“How do women still go out with guys when you consider that there is no greater threat to women than men?” he asked in a 2013 special. “We’re the number one threat to women! Globally and historically, we’re the number one cause of injury and mayhem to women.”

But C.K. was also the subject of long-simmering sexual misconduct rumors — and in November 2017, four women told the New York Times that he had masturbated in front of them or asked them to watch him masturbate (a fifth said that he masturbated while on a phone call with her).

In a move that remains unusual among men accused as part of #MeToo, C.K. admitted to the allegations against him. “These stories are true,” he said in a statement to the New York Times.

“I have spent my long and lucky career talking and saying anything I want,” he added. “I will now step back and take a long time to listen.”

But as many have pointed out, the listening didn’t last very long. C.K. was back onstage in September 2018, less than a year after his pledge to step back. In an October appearance at the West Side Comedy Club in New York, he addressed the fallout from his sexual misconduct revelations, saying he’d been to “hell and back” and that he’d “lost $35 million in an hour.”

While many were critical of C.K.’s comeback attempt, West Side Comedy Club host AMarie Castillo told the comedy website LaughSpin that the comic “was so genuine and reflected on how weird his year was” in his October appearance. “Sounds to me he is owning up, acknowledging, and trying to figure it out,” she said.

But in a December set, he didn’t sound much like someone trying to figure anything out. In audio posted on YouTube, apparently from an appearance at the Governor’s Comedy Club on Long Island on December 16, C.K. poked fun at gender-nonconforming youth, Parkland school shooting survivors, and Asian men, among other groups. (The club was unable to confirm to BuzzFeed that C.K. was there that night, though multiple people posted on Instagram that they had seen him perform there.)

“You know why Asian guys have small dicks,” he said at one point, according to Patrick Smith and Amber Jamieson of BuzzFeed. “’Cause they’re women. They’re not dudes. They’re all women. All Asians are women.”

C.K. also said he thought it was ridiculous that the term “retarded” was now viewed as inappropriate, Smith and Jamieson reported. When some listeners appeared shocked, he responded, “Fuck it, what are you going to take away, my birthday? My life is over, I don’t give a shit.”

C.K. has not responded to a request for comment from Vox.

Aziz Ansari once included a sexual harassment storyline on his show. Now he’s complaining about Twitter outrage.

Ansari’s comedy has always been more lighthearted than C.K.’s, but he hasn’t shied away from difficult topics. In a 2015 Netflix special filmed at New York’s Madison Square Garden, he asked women in the audience to raise their hands if they’d ever been followed by a “creepy dude,” according to Eren Orbey at the New Yorker.

“Yeah, that’s way too many people,” he said when hands went up. “That should not be happening.”

The second season of his Netflix show, Master of None, also included a storyline about sexual misconduct. Ansari’s character, Dev, teams up with celebrity chef Jeff Pastore (Bobby Cannavale) for a show called Best Food Friends. But Dev is forced to make a choice when a female crew member reveals that Chef Jeff repeatedly harassed her. The episode, which aired before #MeToo gained steam in fall 2017, felt true to life, as Isha Aran pointed out at Splinter, “from the fears victims face in going public to the misogynist skepticism they’re met with when they share their stories.”

But in January 2018, a woman going by the name Grace told the website Babe.net that Ansari had repeatedly pressured her for sex while the two were on a date. She called it “by far the worst experience with a man I’ve ever had.”

“We went out to dinner, and afterwards we ended up engaging in sexual activity, which by all indications was completely consensual,” Ansari said in a statement on the allegations last January. “The next day, I got a text from her saying that although ‘it may have seemed okay,’ upon further reflection, she felt uncomfortable. It was true that everything did seem okay to me, so when I heard that it was not the case for her, I was surprised and concerned.”

“I continue to support the movement that is happening in our culture,” Ansari concluded, presumably referring to #MeToo. “It is necessary and long overdue.”

By fall 2018, however, his tone sounded different. In a Connecticut stop on his “Working Out New Material” comeback tour, he complained about Twitter users debating whether a teenager’s prom dress constituted cultural appropriation, according to Orbey.

“Everyone weighs in on everything,” he said. “They don’t know anything. People don’t wanna just say, ‘I don’t know.’”

He also decried “the destructive performativity of Internet activism and the fickle, ever-changing standards of political correctness,” according to Orbey. He compared left-wing Twitter users to Trump supporters (“at least with the Trump people,” he said, “I kinda know where they stand”) and accused them of competing with one another in a game of “Progressive Candy Crush.”

“One might have hoped that, nearly a year later, [Ansari] could find a way to reckon with one of the movement’s messiest lessons: that even men who wish to serve as allies of women can, intentionally or not, hurt them in private,” Orbey wrote. “Instead, like other men who have reëmerged in recent months, he seems to have channelled his experience into a diffuse bitterness.”

Ansari has not responded to Vox’s request for comment.

If C.K. and Ansari can’t reckon with the allegations against them, can anyone?

Allegations of sexual misconduct against C.K. and Ansari hit fans hard in part because of the thoughtful nature of their comedy — these were supposed to be the good guys.

The accusations prompted fans and critics to reevaluate both men’s work. At Splinter, Aran notes that despite its sexual harassment storyline, Master of None’s second season displays some underlying misogyny. Dev’s relationship with love interest Francesca, in particular, sends the message “that a woman’s initial reluctance can be chipped away at, that indifference is a wall to be torn down.”

C.K., meanwhile, had been telling masturbation jokes for years. As Melena Ryzik, Cara Buckley, and Jodi Kantor reported at the New York Times, “he rose to fame in part by appearing to be candid about his flaws and sexual hang-ups, discussing and miming masturbation extensively in his act — an exaggerated riff that some of the women feel may have served as a cover for real misconduct.” His film I Love You, Daddy, which was initially scheduled for release in November 2017, dealt with a relationship between a famous filmmaker and a 17-year-old girl.

And C.K.’s December set does recall some of his earlier work — the man who complained about teens today and their pronouns is clearly the same one, for instance, who expressed nostalgia for a time when he could use homophobic slurs without being criticized.

Still, C.K. and Ansari were somewhat unusual as male entertainers willing to delve into issues of power and privilege and talk about the ways men hurt women.

That’s what makes their current material so surprising. Ansari and C.K. aren’t just avoiding the subject of #MeToo — they’re going in the opposite direction, complaining about political correctness and outrage culture when their comedy once sent the message that women were absolutely right to be outraged.

Their new work is reactionary — crude jokes about Asian men wouldn’t be out of place at a Trump rally — and it’s dated. C.K.’s complaints about they/them pronouns aren’t just offensive; they’re also tired, well-worn platitudes parroted by everyone from psychologist Jordan Peterson to TV host Piers Morgan. C.K. may think his new material is edgy, but his rant about young people today sounds like it could come from Grandpa Simpson.

Some have speculated that C.K. is consciously courting a more right-leaning audience with his new material after losing the trust of his previous fans, and it’s certainly possible that he and Ansari are pivoting to please the people who were eager to explain away the allegations against them — those who think sexual misconduct only matters if it rises to the level of the allegations against Harvey Weinstein, or who believe that men who are accused deserve swift and unconditional forgiveness.

Whatever the case, the trajectories of C.K. and Ansari are doubly disappointing — first, because men whose work had a feminist bent were accused of hurting women, and second, because they let those accusations destroy the nuanced social awareness their earlier work displayed. Apparently, C.K. and Ansari were only interested in challenging the status quo when they remained unchallenged — once women spoke out against them, they performed the comedic equivalent of packing up their toys and going home.

That’s sad for all of us. We don’t get to see the comedy these men could have created if they’d wanted to face, rather than flee from, our current moment in history. And we don’t get to see two thoughtful entertainers bring their talents to bear on a project that matters to all of us — figuring out what it should look like for men accused as part of #MeToo to apologize, atone, and move forward.

Ever since the #MeToo movement gained mainstream attention in 2017, there’s been a lot of talk about what accused men can do to redeem themselves. Now, more than a year in, it’s certainly possible to imagine some of the accused truly reckoning with their pasts — Dan Harmon’s apology for sexually harassing a writer on his show offers a view of what that might look like. But it’s hard to hold out much hope for such a reckoning on a large scale when two men who seemed like they, of all people, might be able to look deeply at their own behavior have instead chosen to pander to those who would excuse them.

______________________

AZIZ DIDN’T FUCKING DO ANY GOD DAMN THING WRONG!!!!!!

[dxmedstudent]

Weird Asks that Say a Lot  Meme...

My friend the wonderful @meanwhileonwednesday suggested I fill out Every even number for the 'weird asks that say a lot', so here I am. Thanks, friend! XD

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolates.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

At my first school? Artistically talented and perceptive (one teacher was very vividly impressed by my grasp of duck anatomy at like 5 years old). Then there’s the teacher at my new school who thought I had special needs because I was withdrawn (I was being bullied by most of the class, really); she was a new teacher and not really equipped to deal with that. By the end of primary school, I went back to being commended on my work ethic and smarts and artistic ability.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Hmmm I think my work clothes are mostly a formal/preppy mix. With a little bit of boho thrown in, particularly when I’m at home.

8. movies or tv shows?

I prefer movies, because they represent a lot less commitment (America, please stop giving everything like 17 seasons, I beg of you!), however TV show episodes are shorter and easier to slot into your life than a full movie.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

I was generally awful in PE. I liked benchball, can’t say that I was good in it, being yet another game where being short doesn’t do you any favours.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

Either my Kickass playlist, or my Reflective playlist.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Starburst.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up, on my side, in a nice big armchair with my legs hanging off the side. Surrounded by pillows, and probably a cat or two.

18. ideal weather?

Picture this: it’s a sunny day; warm but not too hot. Maybe around 24 degrees celsius. There’s a warm breeze; it’s not stifling, and it’s not cold enough to make you shiver. The trees rustle with the sound of the wind; change is in the air. You can go out in short sleeves, perhaps with the thinnest of cardigans if like me your metabolism basically died 300 years ago.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Depends on what I’m writing. I am the kind of ineffectual person who starts to write tings in a notebook, but also a couple of word docs. I have post- it notes for important things. I document ideas for my comic in a note/sketch book. I love doodling in my sketchbooks.

22. role model?

I never really had one, growing up. I guess the closest I’d get is David Attenborough.

24. favorite crystal?

My birthstone is ruby (which is red; my favourite colour!) however I also love opals; I love their irdescent (OK, opalescent, technically) sparkliness and the way they shimmer with lots of colours. I don’t see why everyone prefers massive diamonds when opals are like... so much cooler. I I don’t actually own any, but maybe one day I’ll be able to buy myself a nice one.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Go for a nice long walk, take lots of pictures, have a picnic in the park. No, I lie, my favourite activity is roping someone I care about into doing it all with me, and having even more fun. 

28. five songs to describe you?

Home - Ellie Goulding Fight Song - Rachel Platten Working Woman’s Blues - Valerie June Alive - Bird Set Free My Medea - Vienna Teng

30. places that you find sacred?

Already been answered.

32. top five favorite vines?

Alas, hard to name off the top of my head. I mainly know vines from various compilations.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Right now? Thankfully none of them.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

That’s impossible to say! Memes were a thing before internet memes became a thing. I’d say that ‘S’ shape we all drew in primary school? Nursery rhymes? Who knows.

38. lemonade or tea?

They don’t usually compete for my love, but i have tea more often than lemonade, purely due to availability reasons.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Some students climbed onto the roof.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Honestly? Skirt pockets. But being a woman, jacket pockets are usually woefully ineffectual and small. Trouser pockets are a bit better, but again usually small. Whereas if someone puts pockets on a skirt, they make sure they are actually proper pockets!

44. favorite scent for soap?

Maybe honey, or roses, or jasmine.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

A baggy pair of PJs; I’m a dress for comfort kind of girl. Particularly since the places I’ve lived haven’t always been great in the heating department. I’ve been known to sleep in a hoodie when it gets cold.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I would like to be a berry, or maybe an apple. Something pinkish red. Sweet, and a little sharp.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Probably my little brother astounding me with how grown-up he is about things. He’s pretty awesome. Or my mum just saying something wildly, hilariously inappropriate XD

52. favorite font?

I love the Komika font family for my comic. I used to use Bookman Old Style, Book Antiqa, Georgia or classic Arial for essays and things like that, when they didn’t specify Times New Roman.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Always call the med reg if you are stuck, be nice to the nurses and always help each other. OK, I did lots of volunteering in hospital before FY1. In which case my

56. favorite tradition?

My family/culture have a specific tradition on the morning of an exam/interview/life event where you fill a cup with water and a couple of plant leaves (Slavs love putting greenery into everything). You place it at the threshold,  and give it a good kick it with your dominant foot. It symbolises your knowledge flowing, and I guess it’s a good luck charm.. You also aren’t meant to look back (literally); because you should be focusing on the task at hand. As a kid it was a comforting good luck ritual, and I don’t think I ever really grew out of it.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I’m proud of my artistic skills, modest though they are. I enjoy creating, and I enjoy that I can make things to cheer up my friends, or things that people here can relate to.

By extension, I’m good with my hands, and that usually translates to picking up procedures and things like that pretty quickly at work. And yes, I love being able to get that cannula in (especially if it’s on the first go!)  when nobody else can. It’s a tiny, tiny thing, but it sparks a little joy. I can develop good rapports with people; which means I can help them to confide their problems, and can help them to feel better or to address things that are bothering them. It’s really mostly about listening and not being judgemental. I am proud that I can sometimes make people feel better, and feel listened to. I’m proud that I learned to try to work through my feelings. As a young person who was really quite stressed, I somehow learned how to apply what’s basically CBT to keep myself relatively sane, and I think it’s helped me a lot. It was only much later that I realised it was basically CBT when I was comparing notes with friends actually going through those kinds of therapies. I’m not perfect at it, and my mind tests me on a regular basis, but it helps.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

I don’t know what I’d like to be in? Maybe a Ghibli film. I think I’d like that.  When I was at school, a close friend of mine just turned around and said “OMG, you’re just like an anime character”, to fervent agreement from my peers. I guess they meant one of those chirpy, ditzy shojo anime characters. I can still see myself as some shojo series heroine; frantically trying to keep it together under the pressures of magical girldom, being romantically inept, trying to fight off the baddie of the week whilst learning lessons about getting along with each other, being helpful and not being mean.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Right now? Sophie from Howl’s moving castle, Princess Carolyn from Bojack Horseman, Miranda Otto from D. Gray-Man, Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility, The Red Blood Cell from Cells at Work, Kiki from Kiki’s delivery service, and Aggressive Retsuko.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I used to love looking at other people’s art on Elfwood or Deviantart.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Today I’m feeling the answer is lilacs.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ugh anything bitter.

70. left or right handed?

I’m ridiculously right handed, but I’ve learned to use my left hand more effectively because of procedures etc. I’m really good with my hands, but my right hand takes over like 80% of the work.

72. worst subject?

PE in school, biochemistry at university.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

At home, maybe a 3, because I don’t see the point in suffering needlessly. However at work I’ll do whatever it takes to keep functional including taking pain relief before it gets bad because I don’t want to have to deal with pain and an on-call. I’m not sure if the scale is logarithmic? I’d rate the worst pain that I’ve had 5 ot a 6, and that made me vomit and curl up into a ball and basically unable to do anything. But I can imagine pain that’s much, much worse than that was, so perhaps I just can’t thin

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

This kind of new potato salad my mum makes with onions. Raw onions are totally a trigger food for my IBS, and any time my mum feeds me anything full of onions, she’ll tell me I can take them out if they upset my tummy. And every single time I’ll pile even more onions into my plate because there’s no way I’m letting my gut dictate my life. Turns out, I’m even more stubborn than my IBS; I just don’t want to give up some of the foods that set things off. My GP once recommended a FODMAP diet, and having had a look at all the stuff I’d have to cut, I resolved I’d only start cutting things if my symptoms got really bad.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Honestly, I have no pretentions to snobbery. The best coffee is the one you get when you are about to collapse on a night shift, even if much, much better coffee exists in the world. And the best sushi is the plain supermarket one you get between on-calls to treat yourself, even if the one from a good restaurat is so much nicer.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I wear a lot of jewel tones, but I also wear a lot of earth tones, and I don’t really see them as being in competition. Rock all the colours!

82. pc or console?

Phone. XD I don’t play much on either, mainly due to time. Phone has the benefit of being in my pocket when I’m at a loose end on the bus, or at my parents’. I don’t sit down and make time to play, I play games in the stolen minutes here and there when I don’t have much to do.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Classical music radio in the office (because it’s the most neutral), retro stations in the car (or whatever your guests would like), and podcasts at home when you are by yourself.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

I didn’t have a real Barbie (fairly sure ours were knockoff dolls) but I do have fond memories of making outfits for our toys. Though our favourites were always various little animal models who got into all sorts of adventures.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies, but it’s a close call. Really, I’d have to say biscuits, since I eat those more often than either of the above.

88. your greatest wish?

For myself? To be happy. For others? Ditto. 

90. luckiest mistake?

Getting into my first degree. Feels like I fell into it, but it set me off on a great path, and I don’t regret that my initial path was far from straightforward.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

All of the above.

94. favorite season?

That kind of Spring-Summer interface when all the plants are in bloom, and the weather is warm but not too hot, and the days are long.

96. desktop background?

Arietty’s bedroom from the Ghibli Borrowers film adaptation. I’m a sucker for ghibli aesthetic; usually because my rooms end up similarly haphazardly adorned with cool things. 

98. favorite historical era?

Every era has its own awesomeness. I feel very fondly for the regency period because of all the books I’ve read set in it, likewise the Victorian period. Though both aren’t without their problems. I realised that I style my hair like a Victorian; centrally parted with a neat, low bun at the nape of the neck. XD

I think that might be all the questions! Phew!

[deztinywarriors]

The Linked Charms - Episode 29 (Multi Liverpool players)