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cardandpixel · 4 years

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9 Board Game YouTubers I Follow & Why (plus a few others)

In the literal dim and distant past when I started boardgaming (honestly, the biggest threat was tallow wax on your board), the internet was still accessed by whatever IP address you could remember off the top of your head (there’s no place like 127.0.0.1 as they sayI) - and the only TikTok was the clock ticking, waiting for half of Louise Nurding’s left leg to download only to realise it was Anne Widdecombe and you’d hit the wrong link on a BB. Boardgames had some quiet and shady corners of the internet, in those same Bulletin Boards, there was one for HeroQuest and Space Crusade when they came out. But sadly, if you wanted to see a boardgame being played or learn the rules, you either had to go round to your friend Tim’s house where he had a new chits-for-days wargame going, or sit down and actually read the rulebook yourself. As a result, I bought some interesting games in my time, including a game called Operation Overlord - a mighty chit-tastic WW2 N African campaign monster that I bought in desperation from the Games Workshop in Manchester on the first morning that it opened in 1979 (?) as we were so far back in the queue that there wasn’t a space marine to be had for miles. But now, we have a plethora of kindly folk available on our blistering shiny Windows NT 486sx machines to inform and delight us in full 8-bit glory. Everything from reviews, buying guides, rules tutorials and even painting & crafting guides, we can be bathing in just about whatever aspect of board or wargaming we so desire in an effort to stave off the clattering realisation that it’s been over 3 months since we spent any quality time with another breathing soul outside our houses. The question gets frequently asked on boardgame FaceAche forums “What YouTube channels are worth my time and why?” so in an effort to throw my own towel into that controversial ring, here’s my pick of probably 9ish, maybe more by the end, but let’s start with 9 in no particular order..... 1) 3 MINUTE BOARDGAMES

One of the first board games ‘er across the table (TM) and I bought together was a copy of Gloom from a little games and comic shop halfway round the world in Hamilton NZ, Mark 1 Comics. As we were achingly close to moving to NZ a few years ago, we’ve kept up with many aspects of what might have been our life over there, so it was a delight to discover Jarrod (and now Stephanie) on YouTube, a friendly and familiar accent reviewing board games. But it’s not just the NZ vibe that I love, Jarrod does a great job of cutting thru the hyperbole and bloat often associated with trying to keep YouTube vids ‘long for the algorithm’ (ugh) and just gives very pragmatic reasons for a game either joining or leaving his collection. He has a great approach, and it’s nice to see him finally on camera instead of the disembodied voice. Great reviewer, and Stephanie is utterly hilarious. 2) THE BROTHERS MURPH

Mike & Nick are two of the most engaging brothers on YouTube let alone just in the boardgaming community. Their series on thrift shop finds has dredged up some hilarious and often tragic specimens from the grand days of Palitoy, MB and Parker Games. They are also masters at ‘speed reviewing’ often piling reviews of 50 or 60 games into the same number of minutes. I think I favour the ‘don’t outstay your welcome’ approach to YouTube in general, and the Brothers Murph are at great ease with this philosophy and yet they take on simple party games thru to the heaviest euros with the same distillation equipment, and yet their reviews are never trivial or throw away. We had the chance to chat to Nick at Airecon this year and he was a lovely guy, slightly blown away by the fact that people liked his channel. He’s also an awesome artist too.

3) ACTUALOL

There are many reviewers on the web who have cost me a fair amount of money, the worst being Zee Garcia, however, a close second is Jon Purkiss aka Actualol. Jon has a terrifying gift for finding games, and especially ridiculously affordable games, that I buy on spec and then end up absolutely loving. Jon has a light and breezy style which is instantly engaging - I also really want his comfy chair (surely in exchange for a nice review on here Jon???). His videos are tidy and concise and yet still convey a deep enthusiasm and joy for games. His reviews very clearly portray what the setting of the game is and what you’ll be doing, without getting embroilled in the rules. He always has great footage of the game on the table (please reviewers - look at the ratio of your face to the game you’re talking about - less than 10% game and i’m walkin’) and often favours the less pricey end of the market which suits me fine. Brilliant games I love thanks to Jon include: Second Chance, Magic Maze and Ninja Academy

4) OUR FAMILY PLAYS GAMES

There’s not much to be said about Mik & Starla Fitch that cannot be gained from watching a mere 3-4 minutes of their channel. For sheer exuberance aimed squarely at a love for bringing families together via our glorious hobby, you cannot top these guys. If you are ever - EVER - feeling slightly lacklustre about gaming or losing your mojo for whatever reason - heck if you are just feeling slightly down, treat yourself to 10 minutes in the company of these two excellent human beings. Their reviews and playthru’s have all the humanity you need in a game and after five minutes you are thinking “Is the US too far to go just for a gaming evening?” We’d both utterly love to sit across the table from these lovely people and just play, and I can’t say that about every reviewer, I’ll be honest. Their reviews are often centred around unloved classics (watch their vid dedicated to why they love Catan as an example - you’ll be clicking Buy Now before your know it) and also some great quirky unknowns that I’m trying to hunt down even now. They’ve just had a brilliant couple of boosts from both a spot of Good Morning America recently, and becoming reviewers for the mighty Dice Tower. I’m immensely grateful for a tweet by Rodney Smith for pointing me in their direction, my social media is a much brighter place with the Fitch family in it.

5) RAHDO RUNS THROUGH

“Heeeeey Everybody”. One of the first board game reviewers I ever caught on YouTube was the inimitable Richard Ham aka Rahdo. And I’m so glad I did. I would genuinely never sit down and try and learn a game from one of Rahdo’s playthrus, they are what I imagine being in a wind tunnel full of 50 tonnes of feathers is like. BUT and this is crucial - if I want an idea of what a game is going to feel like to play, there is no finer deliverer of the remote game experience than Mr Richard Ham. His unique ability to explain how a game is going to work, turn by turn; the decisions you will make; the things you’ll have to consider; the short and long term goals; are all brilliantly covered in one of Rahdo’s videos. His ability to make different choices for his ‘ghost partner’ Jen (who does exist in real life, we have bought jewelry off her, she’s lovely) also adds a real dynamism to the games, showcasing the flexibility in a design for different play strategies. Rahdo tends towards 2 player games and usually at the heavier end of the scale, but if there’s a game you are thinking of buying, check Mr Ham out first!

6) WATCH IT PLAYED

It’s often been said that Canadians are some of the politest folk on the planet, but when it comes to ranking Canadians, well, I’m sure they’d be too humble to rank each other so I’ll have to. Rodney Smith is the loveliest man in the world. There, end of article. But it’s true. We’ve been watching Rodney since we first got confused about the rules for Mice & Mystics (which we still got wrong but that wasn’t Rodney’s fault) and his ever chirpy, ever positive approach to his rules rundowns is utterly remarkable and frankly, enviable. And it’s his attention to detail and clarity for explaining rules that have rightly made Rodney one of the most important resources in the gaming hobby. If you have ever struggled over a rulebook and haven’t raced to Watch It Played, I will guarantee you will have spent far longer on that rulebook and lost way more hair than you ever needed to. We had the great honour of playing Rajas of the Ganges with Rodney at Airecon in 2019, and I mugged up on the rules sooo much. Regular imbibers of this rag will know my sloth for reading rulebooks is legendary but fortunately ‘er across the table (TM) loves them. But, for the 3 days running up to our trip to Harrogate, I did nothing but read that rulebook - this was THE Rodney Smith, you can’t get a rule wrong with Rodney. But of course, nerves kicked in and I could barely remember the rules of Snap, but the nicest man in the world could not have been nicer. Really, quantum mechanics has proved it. He was just the same man off the computer telly. Funny, engaging, warm and happy to chat as well as play (which I was also really nervous about doing!), if you don’t watch Rodney, are you really internetting?

7) TABLETOP MINIONS

“Pachow” From boardgames to wargames. As well as my slight addiction to cardboard, my other opiate overlord is 28mm plastic miniatures. Specifically those involved in tabletop skirmish games like Malifaux, 7TV, Fallout Wasteland Warfare, GuildBall and a smattering of others. Though recently more focused on the frankly insane amount of content being released by Games Workshop, Tabletop Minions is presented by the splendid Uncle Atom. (In fact, I identify his content so much as Uncle Atom’s stuff that I honestly had to double check the name of the channel for this article!). My plastic habit uncle (sounds so wrong, but so true) has possibly the gentlest delivery of anyone on the internet. It’s not so much content, as therapy. I know the net is awash with AMSR channels at the mo, but if you don’t want to listen to some overmonetized southern californian with some bubble wrap and a large capsule condenser mic, just hop over to TTM and listen to the Uncle for 5 minutes. He’s like a soothing bubble bath of content about painting figures, philosophy of the hobby, general art & design principles, and great life advice. He also wears a fez.

8) GIRL PAINTING

“Hello Tchoobies!” I painted my first 28mm figure when i was about 12ish - it was, ironically, a space marine of some sort - the old clunky Ral Partha ones. It looked terrible, but each model got a bit better till I stopped for some reason a few years later. When I got into Malifaux a few years ago (ie decades, several of them, later), I knew I was going to have to get back into painting; heaps of grey plastic does not a skirmish game make. (Little did I know I would have to revisit my microscopy days either when assembling damn Bayou Gremlins!) Two channels were recommended to me, the Esoteric Order of Gamers (more later) and Girl Painting. EOG put me on the path to believing I could paint again, but Alexandra at Girl Painting actually made me believe I could learn to do it well. GP’s approach to painting figures, terrain and vehicles is based on solid art theory. Her explanation of colour relationships and the colour wheel is something I can quote to this day. All of the techniques that I lean on so heavily in day to day painting both for table and display I learnt from Girl Painting. Correct use of washes, wet blending, non-metallic metals, shading, drybrushing, highlighting, model reading, all of it from studying intently, often with a brush actually in my hand while watching the channel. I cannot recommend GP enough if you want to put paint to plastic. Whatever your ability, you will learn something from this hidden gem of a channel.

9) ESOTERIC ORDER OF GAMERS

Another dang fine antipodean and another slightly unusual channel. I have a terrible, terrible memory when it comes to rules. In our early days, we also had a a lot of games with seemingly very over-bloated rulebooks - FFG games basically. I suddenly realised what I wanted was to lift the lid of a box and find in the lid, a summary of the important stuff i needed to remember about the game. Apparently I was not the only one. In 2013 a chap known as Universal Head started publishing an amazing series of rules summaries which condensed down some of the bloatiest rulesbooks down to often one or 2 pages of A4. It was a (pardon the pun) gamechanger for me. I can’t count the number of games in our collection that have a friendly sheet of A4 now as the first thing you see when you open the box. They are brilliant. And he’s still doing it to this day. I would argue that the more useful leg to his activities is the website rather than YouTube channel, but his channel does have the aforementioned brilliant figure painting tutorials, unboxing videos and some crafting stuff. The website is definitely the place for the rules summaries and also a fantastic resource for build-it-yourself foamcore box inserts. Though Folded Space have now made box inserts pretty affordable, there’s still no feeling like the satisfaction of building your own, and I would argue that some of EoG’s designs actually make more sense than some of the Folded Space ones anyway. AND THE OTHER ONES (Who probably don’t really need the exposure, but hey, only 11 people probably read this so......) Why aren’t these on the list above? Just because I wanted to highlight some of the more marginal channels above or more specialist rather than the pure reviewers. SHUT UP & SIT DOWN Possibly my favourite channel on YouTube, whose name sounds more like a menacing Yorkshire greeting than a boardgame channel. SU&SD seem to be a real Marmite issue on the board game communities. And I genuinely don’t understand it. Yes, their reviews are often really funny but honestly, if that’s all you take away then you are missing some amazingly detailed and thought provoking work. Quinns and crew’s reviews are some of the most measured and balanced reviews in the gameyverse. Their reasoning for the conclusions they come to are incredibly well thought through and often very surprising based on the tone of the rest of the review. They have steered me to some games I would never have looked twice at and steered me away from some very shiny games that I might have blown a lot of money on otherwise. Flagposting great alternatives is also a signature of their reviews, and that again has often lead me to some fantastic games. We don’t always agree (their recent review of 10 Oink Games was savage imho) but we always disagree for the right reasons. Again, I would argue their website is actually a better overall resource, especially their podcasts which are superb, but all their content is fantastic.

in a highly similar vein I would add NO PUN INCLUDED. Efka & Elaine produce some of the most thoughtful and intelligent boardgame review content today, and often for some of the deepest and most complex games. The joy of boardgaming is that it is highly subjective and there are lots of times when NPI like/dislike a game that I do/don’t, but they are engaging and warm enough as presenters to hit you with a gentle subtext that says “It’s ok - I know we like this game, we get that you don’t, it doesn’t make any of us bad people, just people y’know, have a sandwich with us” Efka criticising a game reminds me of when Dennis Healey once described an argument with Geoffrey Howe as being ‘savaged by a dead sheep’, though not in the cynical manner of the original. The criticism is loaded with that crucial dose of ‘hear me out’ that is sadly lacking in 90% of all other reviewers out there. Efka & Elaine are no GoggleBox reviewers, they are the real deal - they genuinely understand how games work and why. The sheer moral turmoil that Efka expressed over the cultural issues in Rising Sun was some of the most thoughtful YouTube content I have ever seen. I just wanted to do a little shout out to Johannes & Sunniva at BOARD GAMING RAMBLINGS - I don’t have as much to say as they are relatively new on my radar, but I have really enjoyed their content so far and find them to be like one of those adorable gaming couples that you might see every once in a while at your gaming group and have a blast with, and then not see for months and go “Awh - I really miss Johannes & Sunniva - where’d they go?” that feeling, you know the one. Adorable, with a hint of the esoteric. Also, a quick but important mention to the other titan of boardgame rules explanation that is Paul Grogan of GAMING RULES!. Like Rodney Smith, Paul is meticulous about rules explanation and is really clear and simple to follow, even for very heavy games, which Paul tends to do more of than Rodney, which is probably why I end up watching Paul slightly less, but certainly not for any less quality. Paul has such a reputation in the industry that he now works closely with many designers and publishers to help craft the best rulebooks around as a consultant. So that’s it - congrats for making it through folks. Didn’t think it was going to run this long, but turns out.... I quite like a lot of the YouTubers I watch - who knew? Until next time... happy gaming y’all.

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theaftermathgossip · 5 years

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Aftermath Unsolved || The Cray Cray Case of Patricia Walker

RYAN: This week on Aftermath Unsolved we are investigating the Cray Cray case of Patricia Walker. SHANE: Can... can we legally say that? RYAN: What? SHANE: Cray Cray? Like - isn't that trademarked? RYAN: Probably. But I think that as long as we demonetize it's... fine? SHANE: I - What? That's not how it works. No. It - *what*? RYAN: I mean? If we're not making a profit from it they can't sue! SHANE: That... does not check out. RYAN: Let the lawyers handle it. SHANE: God, I feel bad for whoever has to talk to Dorothy Walker on the phone after *this*. RYAN: Well, I know one thing, and that is it won't be me. SHANE: (tsks) Causin' all the trouble and dealing with none of the aftermath. RYAN: YOU SAID IT. SHANE: OH SHIT. RYAN: (wheezing) Wow. That didn't take long. SHANE: Go big or go home - RYAN: Does that apply? SHANE: (shrugs) It does now. RYAN: Okay, okay. So, this one is a doozy. SHANE: *Doozy*. RYAN: Shut - shut up. So, Patricia Walker, formerly known as Patsy Walker and currently know as Trish Walker, was a child star that most of us grew up on - and she is now a talk show host. She's had a rollercoaster of a life, riddled with all sort of things - SHANE: Drug addiction... public breakdowns... RYAN: Just... just right out there with that, really? SHANE: IT'S PUBLIC RECORD. RYAN: I'M TRYING TO KEEP US FROM GETTING SUED BY DOROTHY WALKER. SHANE: She can sue us but she won't stop the truth! RYAN: But she can stop us. SHANE: Okay but wasn't Trish Walker like, *fucked up* at that club in Brooklyn? RYAN: Vortex? SHANE: THAT ONE, yeah, it's not like she's really *trying* to hide any of this. RYAN: I feel like Dorothy Walker won't take that as an excuse. SHANE: (shakes his head) Dorothy be cray cray. RYAN: (wheezes) You can't - you SHANE: I did. RYAN: We should amend the intro to 'on our final episode.' SHANE: Don't be dramatic. You too, Dorothy Walker. Stop it. Just. Just stop it. RYAN: You done? SHANE: I'm done. For now. RYAN: There are a lot of things that have happened in Trish Walker's life, but focusing on a more recent event - we're looking at how she was reported as dead and now she's - SHANE: Walkin' around all hunky-dory with a Starbucks? RYAN: I mean - you have to admit she seems different since she came back from 'the dead.' SHANE: She went to rehab this fake death stuff... I can't. RYAN: Ahahaha! SHANE: I can't! I cannot deal with this. Just admit you went to rehab. Case closed. RYAN: Wait, wait - you have to hear the rest first. SHANE: (mouths) Rehab. RYAN: Trish Walker was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and an additional gunshot wound in her stomach. The story was covered up by Dorothy Walker at first, presumably to protect Trish from the fallout of a public scandal - or to prevent whoever tried to assassinate her from coming to the hospital to finish the job. SHANE: Who the fuck would want to assassinate her? RYAN: Let me finish! SHANE: Hurry up! RYAN: Anyway, Trish Walker succumbed to her wounds in the hospital and was declared dead. A week later, her body goes missing from the morgue and a short time after that, there are reported sightings of her. SHANE: (sighs) RYAN: What? SHANE: Is it really believable that she just... got up out of the morgue and went back to life? Like, what? A fucking zombie? They fucking misidentified a Jane Doe, called her Trish Walker and when Trish showed up alive - oops the body went missing. RYAN: *Oops the body went missing*? SHANE: Makes more sense than this bullshit zombie story. RYAN: And with that - we're on our first theory. Trish Walker is a known addict, and most online communities feel that it is totally plausible that Trish Walker went to rehab and that - I hate to say it - but you were right and that this was a case of misidentification - maybe even purposeful misidentification of the body to keep Trish Walker's stint in rehab a secret. SHANE: Because being dead is better than going to rehab? RYAN: Well - wait, wait put yourself in Trish Walker's shoes - SHANE: (closes eyes and starts humming the tune of cray cray) RYAN: What... what are you doing? SHANE: Getting into character. RYAN: ... Okay. Your life is under a microscope and you're headed to rehab *again*. Your career is hanging on by a thread and you're pretty sure that it can't survive if you go to rehab. SHANE: So I fake my death? RYAN: So you vanish from the public eye to sober up. A body of a - a homeless woman shows up and she looks kinda like you and there you go! Perfect alibi. You can't be in rehab if you're dead. SHANE: Please tell me this gets better. RYAN: You are so hard to please. SHANE: I have standards, Ryan! RYAN: Fine, well, they only get weird from here. SHANE: Goddamnit. RYAN: Theory number two is that Trish Walker was abducted by aliens, but only her consciousness and not her physical body. The separation of her body from her mind killed her - SHANE: I hate this. RYAN: And so Trish Walker did technically die, but only for a short time before the aliens returned her. SHANE: So, how does that explain the double-tap? RYAN: Double-tap? SHANE: Two shots. One to the head - one to the stomach? RYAN: It - someone shot her after? SHANE: WHAT? Really? That's - that's so flimsy. Even for you, Ryan. RYAN: This theory doesn't talk about the gunshot wounds - it's completely focused on aliens. SHANE: Okay, fine. What did the aliens do? Why did they take her? RYAN: For... science? SHANE: And they picked *her*? RYAN: Maybe they liked the song? You know - SHANE: THEY TOOK HER FOR HER MUSIC, and what? Found out she didn't sing anymore and went "ah, shit, nevermind?" RYAN: (wheezing) Maybe? SHANE: (sighs) RYAN: You know what? Fine - just, just fine. The next theory though, it's... it's better. SHANE: Is it really? RYAN: Lizard people. SHANE: Rock bottom early? RYAN: Think about it - Trish Walker is assassinated, reported dead, two gunshot wounds, and then her body just... vanishes? What if she was being replaced by a lizard person, assimilated into the hierarchy of lizard people - you know, like how Beyonce is a clone? SHANE: I can't... No. RYAN: No? You can't just 'no' it - SHANE: No. RYAN: What else explains the fact that she is reported and confirmed dead and then is suddenly walkin' around? SHANE: Nope. You're trying to combine the clone theory and lizard people? That's too much. RYAN: You can't - SHANE: Ryan. No. Nope. It's just. No. Absolutely not. RYAN: You are a frustrating man. SHANE: I take great pride in that status. RYAN: And it infuriates me. SHANE: Good. RYAN: So, this next theory is another one that we've heard on the show, and that's that Trish Walker, the one we see now, is actually -- wait for it SHANE: (sighs heavily) RYAN: A clone. SHANE: This shit again? RYAN: It's a popular theory that the elite - SHANE: Are lizards and/or clones. RYAN: First of all, it's not and/or it's one or the other. Only *or*. SHANE: Uh-huh. RYAN: So the going theory is that Trish Walker was spiraling right? Her drug habit was coming back with a fury and she was showing increased signs of irritability. SHANE: Sure. Because no one else ever has shown signs of irritability. RYAN: Anyway, what I'mn getting at, is that Trish Walker was hurting the Walker brand. It was less than a year ago when she came back to Trish Talk and starts hosting regular shows, everything looked fine on the surface. SHANE: I'm hearing an *except* coming. RYAN: Except - SHANE: Called it! RYAN: (wheezing) Stop -- just stop it. There are some rumors surrounding her coming back to the show and these rumors suggest that coming back wasn’t *her* choice, but in fact, Dorothy Walker's. SHANE: Ugh. That name makes me itchy. RYAN: Itchy? SHANE: Like hives, Ryan. Dorothy Walker makes me feel like I'm breaking out in hives. RYAN: I... I have no words. SHANE: (shrugs) RYAN: This metaphorical toilet that Trish was being flushed down - it was too much, right? So she turns back to drugs and starts falling into old habits and in an attempt to protect the Walker brand, and Trish from herself, Dorothy had Trish replaced with a clone. Though I think an android, in this case, makes more sense because clones start as babies. SHANE: So, let me get this straight -- clones but not clones? RYAN: An android. SHANE: Like... what? An LMD? RYAN: I -- I don't know what that is. SHANE: (sighs) I expect too much of you. RYAN: Wow okay, okay. Fine. Let's google this random string of words and see who the real idiot is here - SHANE: Do it. RYAN: I'm doing it! (RYAN pulls out of his phone) RYAN: Urban dictionary says it means 'let me die.' SHANE: Not what I meant, but relatable. RYAN: So what did *you* mean? SHANE: A life model decoy. Fancy word for android. RYAN: (sighs and shakes his head) Alright. SHANE: Don't get mad at me because you didn't know the word. RYAN: Okay, well, since you have a fancy name for this, is this the theory you like? SHANE: No - (laughing) androids might be more believable than lizard people but no. I'm still on board with Trish going to rehab. The dead body is some dramatic flair but celebrities, man. RYAN: (wheezing) Dead bodies and celebrities huh? SHANE: You got enough money, you can get away with anything (winks) RYAN: Did you just - you know what. No. I'm not gonna engage. SHANE: For this theory though, I do like the involvement of Dorothy Walker. She seems the type to have a backup daughter or ten. Just... hidden away. RYAN: And what? Rotates them? SHANE: Yeah, one starts to show any signs of, I don't know, mental instability and she replaces them. Pulls another fucking daughter out of the basement and is like (waves finger) "the last Patricia was a *very* naughty girl" RYAN: That is a horrifying idea. SHANE: I feel like it's the right level of yikes. Just enough that you can see it happening but also so far out there that you're like: nah, that'd NEVER happen! And then, oops, it does. RYAN: OOPS, IT DOES? (wheezing) SHANE: It's only an oops if you get caught! RYAN: Our last theory is a bit of a stretch, even for me. SHANE: Oh goody. RYAN: (wheezing) You have no faith in me! SHANE: Zero. RYAN: Trish Walker is actually a servant of Satan and sold her soul for extended life. SHANE: (wheezing) Is Trish Walker supposed to be Dracula? Who - who said this? Who did this? Who put this dumb idea in your brain. RYAN: I'm just the messenger! SHANE: Except you believe it! RYAN: You can't prove if I believe or not - SHANE: Just - replay the episode. He believes. RYAN: (wheezing) How dare you - SHANE: HOW DARE I? How dare you, whispering these... these heracies about Trish Walker being a bride of Satan! RYAN: I said no such thing! SHANE: You implied it with your 'selling her soul' thing. RYAN: Okay fine, maybe she's a bride of Satan - SHANE: So, Patsy Walker went to Hadestown? Do you think they did a cover of 'Wait for me'? RYAN: *What*? SHANE: It's a good song. I don't think Patsy had the voice for it but you know, maybe the devil can't tell. RYAN: And you know enough about music to make this assessment? SHANE: I have the internet. That's all I need. RYAN: That is... a frustrating answer. You are a frustrating person, Shane. SHANE: So, what's her biopic going to be called? It's Patsy, the bride to Satan? RYAN: A Woman of Nine Lives: A Patsy Walker story. SHANE: Oh -- oh that's actually good! RYAN: I know, right? SHANE: I like what you're implying here. Nine lives - so she's like a cat. Like a, uh, a hellcat! RYAN: Hellcat: A Patsy Walker Story? SHANE: Bingo. Perfect. Love it. RYAN: We got it? SHANE: Nailed it. RYAN: (wheezing) Okay good. So, out of all the theories, which one do you like? SHANE: Like, which one do I believe or which one I find the most interesting? RYAN: Both. Both is good. SHANE: (laughs) Okay. Well, as far as one that I can believe in? I am firmly sold on rehab. And the body being misidentified. But one that I *want* to be true is the clone theory. RYAN: Realy? That one? SHANE: Well, my addition to that theory. I just... I love the idea of Dorothy Walker having a small army of children in her basement and she just rotates them like dolls. It's delectably evil. RYAN: That's twisted. SHANE: That would be the plot twist that blue screens the world. And I for one, am here for it. RYAN: (wheezing) I - I have no words. SHANE: Okay, are we done? This, this has been something else. RYAN: Yeah, we're done. SHANE: Good. Let's hope that we don't get sued by Dorothy Walker - RYAN: We might just because of that daughter dungeon theory - SHANE: That was comedy, Ryan. She can't sue over that! RYAN: I feel like she'd find a way. SHANE: You're right. She's the type. See you next week, or not! Who knows? We sure don't! RYAN, voiceover: Have any weird, unsolved mysteries you’d like us to cover? Send in a comment or an ask and maybe we’ll pick your story next!

#theaftermathunsolved #the cray cray case of patricia walker

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spartanguard · 6 years

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something in the water, part 6

Emma is sent to investigate a mysterious sea monster appearance in her hometown. Thankfully, her family there knows her secret: that at night, she transforms into a swan. And she knows that whoever the universe thinks her soulmate is, as dictated by the tattoo on her side, won’t be there. Though maybe she was wrong to assume that. And when did a merman start hanging out in the ocean near Storybrooke?

A/N: Getting closer to the end! There will be two chapters after this, and hopefully they’ll post in the next few weeks. Thank you so much for continuing to read and still to the people behind @cssns for putting it all together! Art to come!

By that night, Emma could find a few things to complain about being a swan—mostly food-related—but it was better than properly dealing with people and whatever fallout there was from Killian’s revelation.

(A small, guilty voice told her she should hear him out, or at least give an explanation for the way she was ghosting—swanning?—him, but her wounded heart loudly told it to shut up.)

Snow had come down to check on her that morning and was visibly upset when Emma told her things hadn’t gone well at Killian’s (but assured her it was nothing that bad; as bitter as she was toward him at the moment, everything they did had been completely consensual.)

Snow did also ask if she planned on transforming back soon; Emma just told her she wasn’t sure.

The pair of ducks who were nesting nearby were definitely a bit confused by her presence during the day, but no one else seemed to pay her much mind—until now, of course.

Heavy footsteps made their way down the dock that could only belong to David; she turned and there he was, slightly illuminated by the quarter moon.

“Did you bring me food?” she called out as a greeting.

“Yeah, but you won’t like it,” he answered, then took a seat on the end of the dock and dumped a bowl of stuff onto the water.

She swam up and took a bite, then gagged. “Ugh, kale? Are you trying to kill me? Where are the onion rings?”

“Fried food is terrible for birds. And so is cheese,” he added quickly before she could protest further.

“Fine,” she muttered, while begrudgingly eating; hunger was winning out and swan instincts went for the greens and corn he’d brought down.

“So you stayed a swan all day?” he asked, sounding curious but also like he was getting at something.

“Yeah,” she answered between bites. “Why?”

“Have you ever done that before?”

“Nope.”

“Can I ask why you did today?”

“Can I eat without a damn interrogation?” she barked.

“No.”

“Ugh!” He was such a brother. “I just...wanted to see if I could,” she told him. It wasn’t the whole truth but it was certainly a tiny part of it—she’d never tried to hold it off indefinitely.

“You know I don’t buy that,” David scolded. “Does this have anything to do with the panicked phone call I just got from Killian?”

She nearly choked on a corn kernel. “What?”

“He just called me, freaking out, because you didn’t come over and he didn’t have a way to get in touch.”

“Oh. Guess I lost track of time.” She promptly found the biggest piece of kale there to start eating.

“I told him you got caught up with some work stuff, but Emma, what’s going on? I thought things had been going good with him, but now this, and you’re here, and Snow told me what you told her this morning. What happened?”

She chewed over her food and her words. As much of a sap as David was when it came to love, it was at least possible to have a rational conversation with him about it (well, more than it was with Snow).

Finally, she swallowed and said, “I don’t think Killian is who I thought he was.”

David tilted his head in confusion. “What makes you say that?”

She sighed and told him what had happened last night—not delving into all of what went down on their date, obviously (she didn’t want to scar her brother), but what Killian had unwittingly told her later. “I can’t…I can’t go through that again, David. I can’t take the chance I’m wrong about him.”

Depressingly, he had no response; he just stared at the surface, face scrunched in thought. His silence was disconcerting to say the least.

“What, no offers to go kick his ass? No brotherly tidbits of advice?” He was usually so quick to jump into action with stuff like this; she’d been pretty positive she was going to have to bail him out of jail after Neal broke up with her.

“Emma,” he started with a sigh; oh no—he was using his dad voice. “I get why you’re worried, but I don’t think that whatever Killian isn’t telling you is anywhere near on the level of Neal. He’s just not like that.”

“Do...do you know?”

“No, I don’t; but I know Killian. He’s a good one, Em.”

That little guilty voice just got a bit louder; maybe she had overreacted—but could anyone actually blame her, given her past?

“And Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not like you don’t have some secrets of your own, too,” he lectured, nodding at her—or, more specifically, her present form.

And now the guilty voice was screaming at her, because he was right. (And she always hated when he was; at least he wouldn’t be able to see her pouting.)

Sensing that the conversation was over, David said goodnight and left her with her thoughts, of which she had many. On the one hand, she knew her reasons for keeping her feathered side hidden were completely understandable, given her personal experience and society at large.

So wasn’t it fair to assume that whatever he was hiding, he had an equally good reason for it?

What could be so big that he had to hide it, though? A kid? Addiction? Was he Superman or something? If it was the first two, he had to know she’d be understanding; if the last, well, okay, she could see the need for secrecy there.

And it wasn’t like she had never planned on fanning her feathers for him; she just didn’t know when would be the right time, if ever.

But by the time dawn rolled around, she knew: she had definitely jumped to conclusions, and owed him the chance to explain.

She perched on the dock for her transformation, which thankfully happened normally—she’d been kind of worried that because she held it off once, she might not change back. It was a bit more painful than usual, but she was pretty sure her shaking afterwards had more to do with being naked in near-freezing temperatures than that.

So she made a mad dash into the house—and the hot bath she knew would be waiting for her, bless Snow—while starting to plan her next move: how did she apologize and give him a second chance without letting him know that she knew something was up?

Not for the first time, she thought to herself: what the hell is my life?

Cautiously, and armed with fancy coffee from the little cafe in town, she entered the library later that day.

She’d used her bath earlier to help her decide on a plan of action. In addition to being her designated swim spot in the colder months, it was also a really good way to unwind and let her mind sort things out. Usually, it involved one of her cases; almost counterintuitively, the steam from the water could sometimes help her see things a bit clearer, or at least from a different angle. She’d never have caught that runaway mini-giant otherwise. (Yeah, it was an oxymoron, but apparently he was the runt of his family and only appeared to be taller than average. Nice guy, though, and his brothers were happy to be reunited.)

Anyways, it also helped her realize that, when it came down to it, nothing between them had really changed. Physically, it had, yeah, which she had absolutely no complaints about; but there were already a lot of things that they didn’t know about each other. Whatever this unsaid thing was was simply part of that. And rather than being upset about it now, she just wanted to get to the point that he felt comfortable enough to share it—and she really wanted to get there herself, too.

As usual, he was behind the circulation desk when she walked in. At the sound of the bell, he looked up over his glasses, which, like always, were adorably slipping down his nose. But there wasn’t the usual face-splitting grin that accompanied her visits.

“Hi, Emma,” he said, slowly and guardedly. Which, of course, just made her feel worse, but that was why she was here.

“Hi. I, uh, brought you coffee, again,” she stammered as she approached the desk. (She clearly wasn’t off to a good start.)

“Uh, thanks,” he said, and scratched behind his ear before taking the proffered beverage. But he didn’t take a sip; he just held onto it, staring at it for a moment, before starting, “Look, about the other night—”

“No, it’s—”

“I apologize if—”

“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” she blurted, making him pause. “I’m sorry I bailed on you last night with no explanation. The truth is…” She had to take a deep breath before she launched into the apology she’d decided on earlier. “I got a little freaked out. It’s been a long time since I did...that...and it actually meant something, and was with a guy I liked. And I’ve already told you how that ended, so I kind of got inside my own head about things, even though I know you’re so much better than him. So I know what it probably looked like, and for that, I apologize; it wasn’t anything on your end—it was all on mine. I shouldn’t have doubted you like that, and I’m really sorry.”

She had to take another breath there because she’d basically blurted it all out. She wasn’t sure how he would react, and to her dismay, he didn’t at first—he seemed uncharacteristically speechless, actually.

“I...uh...you like me?” he finally stammered.

Immediately, she blushed. “I figured that was pretty obvious,” she said as the heat rose on her cheeks. They’d had sex, for crying out loud—amazing, soul-satisfying sex—and here she was, feeling like she was back in fifth grade.

“It’s nice to get confirmation,” he replied, smirking, before turning serious. “I appreciate your apology, though I certainly wasn’t expecting it; I know how things can get in the heat of the moment and was worried we’d moved too fast. So, thank you for telling me all that,” he effused, placing his hand over hers where it rested on the counter. “This may be a bold proclamation,” he said, swallowing, “but I hope I can rebuild your trust enough that you can forget all about that arse and never have reason to doubt intentions again.”

He was telling the truth. She gave him a tiny smile, and told him, “I hope so, too.” Which was possibly an even more daring idea, coming from her.

It wasn’t a declaration of love or undying devotion, or anything sappy like that. But for both of them, it meant they were looking ahead, and that was something she knew neither of them had done in ages.

The air between them grew heavy, but not with passion—just with a deep sense of understanding and affection. To make the moment perfect, she rose up on her toes, leaned onto the desk to grab his open collar, gently brought him close, and kissed him softly but solidly. The edge of the counter cut into her stomach but she really didn’t care, and hardly noticed when she was kissing such a fantastic man.

(Who was also an amazing kisser, by the way, so it’s not like she would have noticed anything short of the building catching on fire—which, if they didn’t let up, might happen as the heat rose between them.)

Reluctantly, they broke apart for air and she fell back on her heels, licking her lips. His eyes were closed, those long lashes lying against his cheekbones, as an almost silly little smirk took over his mouth. He was so damn cute she couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

He made a production of blinking and coming back to reality at the sound. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.”

She expected a protest, but he just replied, “Damn right, I am.” And then they both giggled, since that was apparently their mood; damn, now they were both acting like school kids. (But she couldn’t help it if this mini-make-up had her feeling as excited as one.)

“So, to make up to you for last night, can I take you out tonight? There’s a little place across town that isn’t Granny’s,” she offered.

He smiled, but it faltered. “I’d love to, but today...well, it’s Liam’s birthday.” His expression sat on the border of apologetic and mournful. “So I always go for a sail, in his memory. You’re more than welcome to join me, of course.”

She quickly berated herself for assuming he’d be free; how self-centered was that? Especially when he had something like that going on. She’d definitely been spoiled by his attentions the past few days. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose like that, especially with my weird curfew and everything,” she answered, trying to cover up her disappointment. “How about tomorrow night, then?”

“Are you sure? I can postpone.”

“No; go. That’s important. Just be safe; Maine weather blows.” Literally—the forecast called for a storm tonight, with potential for freezing. In May. What the hell?

“I’ve noticed,” he chuckled. “And I will. But then: definitely tomorrow.”

“Good. I can’t wait.” She didn’t normally admit stuff like that but she was on a roll with it today; may as well continue.

“Me either, love.” Without another word, he strode around the counter to pull her into his arms for another deep kiss.

(And maybe a few more.)

Until he pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. “As much as I’d love to carry this on, Snow’s class will be here sooner than I’d like—”

“—And we’d never hear the end of it,” she finished.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines that I’m supposed to be giving a literature lesson rather than a biology one,” he quipped.

She snorted; what a nerd. “Yeah, that too. Okay, until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow,” he echoed, then gave her another soft kiss.

“Oh, wait!” she nearly shouted, just remembering something. “Give me your phone!”

He tilted his head to the side in curiosity as he did as asked, pulling his phone from his back pocket and handing it over. She tried not to think about the fact that it had been in such close proximity to his perfect rear end as she plugged her number into it and hit the dial button. “So you don’t have to go through David again.”

“That’s helpful,” he commented. “We probably should have done that a while ago.”

She shrugged. “Better late than never?” They’d been seeing each other so often that they didn’t really need it.

“Definitely.” He glanced at the time when she handed the device back. “But now we really might be cutting it close with Snow.”

“Okay; I’ll run. Have fun, be safe, et cetera. Bye!” she blurted, placing one last kiss on his lips before making a dash for the door.

And it was just in time, because she heard a gaggle of voices, including Snow’s, approaching as soon as she got outside and went to hide in the alley next to the building. Obviously, she wasn’t ashamed of anything; she just didn’t need that pressure hanging over her. So she waited there until she heard the door shut after the last student went in, while she programmed Killian’s number into her phone (and added a blue heart after his name, just to make this morning full-on preteen girl).

Once the coast was clear, she pocketed her phone and headed back down the street, on her way to Granny’s for some actual food; she was still starving after the last day or so in swan mode, despite the entire box of Pop-Tarts she ate that morning.

She hadn’t made it a block when her phone started buzzing, so she pulled it back out; Regina was calling. That wasn’t really surprising; they’d only exchanged a couple brief texts over the last couple days, and she was due back in a few. She answered with a cheery “Hello!”

“Emma? Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure no one had stolen your phone.”

“Why?”

“You’re so...cheery.”

Ugh, this was exactly why she had avoided talking to her on the phone last week, wasn’t it? “Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?”

“Oh, no, you are; it’s just...a change. I told you you needed a vacation!”

She chuckled. “Yeah, you were right. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in on the assignment. Did you find anything?”

“Yeah, actually; turns out there’s a merman here.”

“Wow, really? In Storybrooke?”

“Apparently. I haven’t talked to him, but anytime I saw him, it matched the description. Not sure what else it could be.”

“Well, that’s good enough for me. Let Cruella know and then enjoy the rest of your trip, then.”

“Will do. How are things there? Anything more on your case?”

“Eh, nothing good. Actually, maybe you should get in touch with that merman—we had a mermaid go missing the other day.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah. She’s married to a human and he came in to report it. And guess who he works for.”

“Gold.” It made her stomach turn; why couldn’t they nab this guy? “When I come back, I’m helping you on that.”

“We’ll see. Only if we can do it safely; I’m not risking you, or anyone else.”

Ugh, she hated when Regina was rational about these things. “Gotcha. Anything else?”

“Nope, unless you want to bring me back some Granny’s lasagna.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Alright. See you Monday.”

“Bye.”

She wasn’t going to think about how few days she had left here as she traipsed across Granny’s patio and into the diner; she was just gonna get some food, run by Cruella’s, wrap up this assignment, and then enjoy the rest of the time here with Killian, and they’d figure out what came next when they needed to.

That’s what she was assuring herself as she went through the door when she collided with someone—someone covered in fur.

“Emma, darling! So sorry, I didn’t see you there!”

Speaking of the devil, there she was. Emma seriously wondered how many small, adorable creatures had to die to make the black-and-white jacket Cruella was wearing right now. (Though, given how well it matched her hair...ew, no, not finishing that thought.)

“It’s okay; I wasn’t—looking,” Emma tried to apologize, but Cruella wrapped her up in a bear (or some other furred animal) hug.

“Nonsense! Now tell me, dear, how goes the research? Have you had any luck out there?” Thankfully, she let go so Emma could talk.

“Uh, yeah—there’s a merman out there,” she said quietly, almost whispering to avoid being overheard.

“Oh, really?” Cruella clapped her hands and Emma was pretty sure they’re were stars in her eyes, she was so excited. “Oh, that’s so exotic! Oh, my friends will be pleased indeed! Thank you so much, darling!” And she promptly took Emma’s face in her hands and placed a way-too-wet peck on her cheek.

“Uh, my pleasure,” Emma answered, semi-stunned by what just happened.

“Well, I must be off, but thank you ever so much, pet! Ta-ta!” And she sashayed out the door, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume and a bit of shedded fur behind her.

Emma just gaped for a moment, staring into space at that turbulent conversation, before forcing herself to move. She was still baffled as she slid onto a stool, but shook her head to bring herself back to the present. God, Cruella was weird; but at least that was over.

It must have been that kind of day, because Ruby practically stumbled out from the back looking just as bewildered. She stopped in front of Emma, focused on some unseen thing below the counter, before looking up at Emma and blinking. “When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Emma answered slowly.

“I wasn’t just awkwardly staring at nothing for, like, 5 minutes, was I?”

“No; you just came out from the back.” It wasn’t like her to be so out of it—even hungover Ruby was more alert than this. “Rubes, are you okay?”

“I...maybe? I honestly don’t know.” It almost looked like Ruby was shaking, and it had nothing to do with her platform high-heels—though they probably didn’t help.

Emma was getting seriously worried. “Did something happen? Is Granny okay? Dorothy?”

At the mention of her girlfriend, Ruby immediately perked up and bit back a grin. “Just—come here.” And immediately, she took off through the dining room for the secluded back part of the restaurant, beckoning Emma to follow.

Emma almost had to run through, nearly knocking over a waitress as she went, but it was quiet in the back near the stairs to the bed & breakfast upstairs. So whatever this was, it was big, and likely supernatural.

“Okay, what is it?” she asked. “Did you shift in front of Dorothy?”

“Yeah, but it’s the part that comes before it that’s a bit more important.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “How can anything be bigger than that? That’s making yourself so vulnerable!” It may have been personal experience talking, but she didn’t want to see Ruby’s heart pummeled like hers had been, even if it was well on its way to letting someone in again.

“Well, it’s because...it’s a...soulmate...thing,” she stammered, looking down at the tile floor and appearing somehow small, despite the way she towered over almost everyone.

Wow—soulmates? Emma knew Ruby had a mark—a cyclone-like swirl low on her hip—but she’d never expressed any desire to find them. There had been a few serious relationships since her first boyfriend, but they all fizzled out after a few intense months. Her werewolf status definitely had something to do with that, same as Emma’s stuff, but it was still a little surprising.

“Are-are you sure?”

“Completely. You know how my mark looks like a tornado?” Emma nodded. “Well, we were starting to get down to business when she saw it, and told me how she survived one when she was a kid. And she’s a meteorologist now; honestly, I should have seen it.”

“What’s hers?” Emma had to ask.

“That’s the other freaky part,” Ruby said, and leaned in. “It’s a wolf.”

Emma’s breath hitched.

“I kind of had to transform after that.”

“Yeah...wow. How did she take it?”

“She was surprised a bit, at first, which I expected, but then she was totally fine. Just pet and cuddled me. And then I shifted back, and reminded her how I’ve always been a wolf in bed,” she concluded with a wink and a grin.

Emma snorted and relaxed a bit. The weight of the revelation was still settling on her, so a moment of levity was much-needed. But it was kind of a huge deal. She was thrilled for her best friend, obviously, but there were also other implications—personal ones that she didn’t really want to address, but knew she should. “So...for people like us…”

“The marks are us, I think.”

That’s what she was afraid of. Something in her stilled, or started taking up a solid presence in her stomach, or maybe that ice cream from the other night had a freezing spell in it—whatever it was, it was stopping her in place as that epiphany washed over her.

Somewhere out there was a person for her with a swan-shaped mark somewhere on their body.

And, more than likely, it was a merman.

(Quite possibly the one that was here in Storybrooke right now.)

Shit. She needed to think about this. And probably a stiff drink.

“Hey—you okay, Ems?” Ruby’s voice jolted her from her haze; she blinked comically and saw her friend watching her with concern in the set of her brow but understanding in her eyes. She knew just how much she’d rocked Emma’s world.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—I’m alright,” she tried to assure her, but it was hard to be convincing when she didn’t believe it herself. “I’m just...so happy for you!” she redirected; at least that was true. And she promptly wrapped Ruby in a hug, hiding the conflict on her face as she buried it in Ruby’s shoulder.

Ruby returned the embrace, giggling, but then Emma heard her start sniffing. Uh oh.

“Emma, why do you…?” She sniffed again. “What’s that…?” She practically inhaled Emma’s hair. “Oh my God! You and Killian had sex!” she whisper-yelled.

“Holy crap, quiet down!” Emma replied as she stepped back. “How the hell could you tell that?”

“I told you—I can smell him on you. It’s faint, but it’s there. I’m guessing...two nights ago?”

“Jeez, seriously?”

“Is that a yes?”

Emma let out a long sigh. “Yes.”

Ruby squealed. “Get it, girl!”

“You did not just say that.”

“I did and I have no shame. You banged Killian Jones! Be proud!”

Emma rolled her eyes, but could feel the blush rise in her cheeks; okay, she was a little proud that she nabbed the hottest guy in Storybrooke. (And the sweetest, and the most sensitive, and the most caring...she could go on.) But she was a little too emotionally unsteady right now to boast.

With impeccable timing, Granny called for Ruby from the kitchen; there was no doubt she heard their entire conversation and knew Emma needed some alone time. Ruby made her promise to give details later before dashing back to work, leaving Emma to wander back to her seat.

She was in a kind of daze through her meal—she knew she ate, but couldn’t remember what. And at some point, she realized she was driving the Bug up the Nolan’s long driveway, but had no idea how she got there from Granny’s—which was actually really worrying, but thankfully, she hadn’t gotten into an accident.

The rest of the afternoon, she spent either seated on the dock, staring at the slowly rippling water, or in her room, gazing at the cloudy gray sky. Her thoughts just kept running on the same monotonous loop:

She now knew more about her soulmate than she ever had before. For most people, that realization would be thrilling, but for Emma, it somehow felt like a letdown.

Because if her soulmate was a merman, then that meant it wasn’t Killian.

She knew, she knew that she shouldn’t even have hoped he was. They’d barely known each other for more than a week, for fuck’s sake. And normally, she didn’t even have any soulmate-related thoughts, let alone entertain them, despite their first date conversation.

No—it was hitting her now because now, it was out of reach. How effing cliche of her.

But on the other hand, she didn’t want some higher power deciding her life anymore than it already had. Yeah, the whole soulmates thing worked out for Snow and Dave, and was looking like it would for Ruby, but—she wasn’t them. If she was going to find her true love or whatever, she wanted to find it on her terms, like she might be doing with Killian.

Of course, there was no guarantee things would last with him; he still had that secret, and she’d been burned enough in life to get too terribly optimistic. And there was also no saying that she couldn’t find something equally great with this mystery merman. She could be denying herself further happiness by avoiding him. And she’d always felt drawn to merpeople, even before she knew they were real; maybe that was the reason for it.

But if he wasn’t the one here in Storybrooke, then who knew how long it could take to find him? And she couldn’t bear to hurt Killian like that, even if it freed him to find his soulmate. And the thought of Killian being with someone else made her stomach turn, so she was kind of back to square one.

The buts and what ifs and fuck nos just kept repeating until she was tired of hearing them over and over again. But she couldn’t seem to shut it off. She knew she should probably talk to David or Snow, but it wasn’t like they’d say anything that she wasn’t already thinking.

She faked her way through dinner, participating enough in the conversation that they wouldn’t notice she was mentally preoccupied, and then took a shower, hoping it might clear her head. It didn’t.

Once she had dressed, she flopped on her bed and grabbed the first book off the stack on the nightstand, hoping to get lost in a story. But of course, it was the merman romance novel. Still, she gave it a try, and there was something weirdly hot about it, but it really wasn’t helping her at the moment.

So instead, she tossed it back aside and dug out her old copy of Order of the Phoenix to read; if Hogwarts couldn’t distract her, then nothing could; thankfully, it did.

It was dark outside—eerily so due to a brewing storm—when she got to one particular line from Dumbledore.

“We can’t choose our fate, but we can choose others. Be careful in knowing that.”

She was well aware of the first part, but the second stood out to her: we can choose others.

Choose.

She had a choice. Sure, there was some higher being that had a plan for her; but there was nothing saying she had to buy into it. She could choose to be with whoever she wanted, and really, she’d already made that decision.

And right now, that choice was living on dry land, on two legs, on the other side of town, and had managed to slip into her heart easier than anyone ever had.

She set the book down and looked at the time; she had about an hour and a half until transformation time. She had no idea when he was supposed to get back from his sailing trip, but she didn’t care; she just wanted to see him, even if she’d have to wait a while and change forms.

(And she was well aware that she might be tempting some soulmate-related things, but now that she’d made a decision, she wasn’t going to question it.)

Hastily, she barrelled down the stairs while shooting off a quick text to Killian. Are you home? Can I come over? She slipped down the last couple steps but somehow stayed on her feet, so she grabbed her jacket off the coatrack by the door after regaining her balance, shouted a quick ‘bye!’ to Dave and Snow, and threw open the door to dash out to her car through the rain.

A rumble of thunder accompanied the similar sound of her engine coming to life, and she flipped on the headlights and wipers, shifted into drive, and peeled out (as much as anyone could peel out of a wet gravel driveway).

Lightning streaked overhead and she felt like she was driving almost as fast, making near-record time to his house. No lights were on when she pulled up, though, and he hadn’t replied to her text yet.

She grabbed her umbrella off of where it lived on the floor by the passenger’s seat and headed out, running around the house to his dock—his currently empty dock. Damn. No wonder he hadn’t answered her.

Now what? She wasn’t sure what to do, and shifted her weight side to side as she stared out at the horizon—what she could see of it, at least. The rain was coming down harder than when she’d left home and the wind was picking up, making the sea choppy. She stood there for a few more minutes, hoping to catch any sight of his ship out in the open water, but he must have been beyond the view of the cove.

Another strike of lightning flashed, reminding Emma that she probably shouldn’t be standing out in the open with an umbrella during a thunderstorm. She gave one last scan for the ship, but resigned her search and headed back to the car.

She waited there another twenty minutes or so, but no signs of life returned to his house and it was getting close to transformation time. She fully planned on staying out here until he got back—she didn’t like how rough the waves looked and wanted to make sure he got in okay—but didn’t want to risk him coming home to her empty car in his driveway and a swan hanging out near his dock. So she relocated to her hiding place, sent a text to Dave to let him know where she was, and settled in to wait.

Dave, true to paternalistic form, told her to be careful. But he was right: this storm was intense. She really didn’t want to go out in it, but now was at the point where she didn’t have enough time to drive home, and her swan form couldn’t see over the steering wheel if she stayed in here.

There was no fighting it, so she just bucked up and stripped, and managed to slip out her door just as the transformation took hold. She was just strong enough as a swan to get the door shut again, thankfully, so at least she’d have dry clothes at the end of the night.

Her attempt at flying to Killian’s dock didn’t go so well—the wind tossed her around like she was a seagull. So she swam to it as quick as she was able and took up her watch underneath. The waves were surprisingly violent even here, so close to shore; more than once, they tossed her up against the underside of the dock, no doubt leaving bruises that she’d find in the morning. (The one downside to changing forms: what happened in one still affected the other; her broken arm in 12th grade also had left her with a broken wing.)

It seemed like hours passed as she waited there in the surf, but finally, she caught the sound of a motor through the constant crash of waves and roll of thunder. She peered out and there it was: the Jolly Roger, fighting against the stormy sea to safe haven. Her sails were folded away but she still looked pretty damn epic as she crested the waves, illuminated by the sporadic bolts of lightning. When it got closer, she could see Killian at the wheel, underneath a protective awning that had been drawn over the helm and adorably wrapped up in what was possibly the baggiest raincoat she’d ever seen. She still didn’t understand his aversion to being wet but admired his ability to stay dry.

Docking seemed to take forever as he urged the ship against waves that were determined to take him back out to sea, but eventually, he was able to get close enough to toss a line out or whatever—she couldn’t exactly see everything from under the dock, but was aware that the ship’s engine had been shut off and the whole thing was slowly drifting closer.

She heard a long sigh from Killian, and then his footsteps were on the wood above her. If she looked at the right angle, she could see him through the slats; it looked like he was bracing against the wind and trying to hold his hood on.

It didn’t last, though; a gust blew it off his head and he froze where he was, glancing around and down at himself. She could just make out the rain plastering his hair to his forehead and the almost panicked look on his face that slowly melted to a smile. What was that about?

But her wondering quickly became terror when a huge wave came up, smashing her against the dock and knocking the wind out of her. Then it dragged her under the surface until she became disoriented—it was deeper than she realized here, and with no moonlight to help her discern which way was up, she could feel the hysteria setting in.

Somehow, she managed to hold her breath and calm down, letting herself float to the surface. She gasped for air when she broke through, as much as a swan could gasp, at least. Once she regained her bearings, she looked toward Killian’s cottage, hoping for some sign of him, but it was still dark.

Frantically, she scanned the dock and his ship, but he wasn’t there. The wave must have knocked him off, so she started to look around for him in the water but...nothing. Did he not know how to swim?

“Killian!” she called out, even though he wouldn’t understand her. “Killian!” She honestly didn’t know what she sounded like to the untrained ear, but if it was anything like how she felt, it sounded pretty terrifying.

Thankfully, the rain was tapering off and the clouds were just starting to break up, letting a bit of moonlight free as she swam around and searched and screamed. Finally, she found something floating on the surface, but it didn’t give her much hope—it looked like his rain coat.

She desperately started diving under to look for any sign of him, but she could only dive so far, and the storm had left the water a murky mess. But still she tried, until her lungs burned; she might be an aquatic bird but that didn’t mean she was a fish. She refused to give up, though.

Movement finally caught her eye, but it was the last thing she wanted to see: the familiar blue tail of the resident merman. What the hell was he doing?

Wait—maybe he could help? Was there some way she could get his attention and communicate that Killian was down there somewhere? Do merpeople speak swan?

There was only one way to find out. She started splashing and diving, making a scene, hoping to catch his notice.

His tail fanned out a few more times, getting closer each time. Oh, thank goodness; it seemed to be working.

At last, he broke through the surface—and she immediately froze upon seeing him.

“So that’s you causing all that racket?” Killian said, brushing the hair out of his face and grinning.

Killian. Floating in the water. Where the merman had just been.

“I’m fine, love; but perhaps it’s best you seek shelter for the rest of the night, aye? I’d hate to see my favorite feathered friend hurt in a storm like this.”

Killian—he was—what? Her brain wasn’t computing.

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think you can keep this secret between us?” She had no answer; she didn’t even blink. “Thought so,” he continued on, smirking. “Take care, love.”

And then he was gone, with another flip of his stunning fin.

That was his secret: he was a merman. He was the merman. Emma’s brain was short circuiting with a million questions and answers all at once. But two things quickly reached the forefront of her thoughts:

1. If he was a merman, then that meant there was a chance they were soulmates.

2. HOLY SHIT.

thanks, friends!! I’ll be back soon; promise! tagging: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @selfie-wench @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @initiala @fairytalesandtimetravel @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @flipperbrain @sherlockianwhovian @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @jackieorioncat @bmbbcs4evr @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @jaiabean @therooksshiningknight @a-faekindagirl @technicallysizzlingcloud @deathbycaptainswan @superadam54 @unworried-corsair

#cs ff #cs modern au #cssns #something in the water #swan!emma #merman!killian

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ladyhawk-s · 7 years

Text

“Electrifying”

Relationships: Kaminari Denki/Jirou Kyouka; Kaminari Denki and Jirou Kyouka

Characters: Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyouka

Rating: G

Word Count: 1295

Summary: [Kamijirou Drabble] A typical scenario between Kaminari needing to share memes and Jirou finding herself in a rut to charge her phone.

A/N: AHHH sorry this isn’t the longest thing or the best thing! I did an RP application a long time ago for Denki and decided tonight to fix it up and post it tonight so it’s really small and such!! But I hope you guys like it and it gets your miniature fix for the night! :3

Read at AO3 ; Read at ff.net -----

Normally the common area was plagued with people, whether it was filled with whisperings of gossips or rumbles of stomachs that clenched their muscles as their drool indicated food. There was always a sense of vitality laid dormant within the walls of the common room and it would take even the bots of Mr. Aizawa to shush their voices to allow the responsible students to sleep since Tenya’s arm movements didn’t mean much to the class anymore. It was vivacious and fresh which lead to today being a completely peculiar day from the rest since it seemed more on the deserted end. Only Denki and Kyoka rested on the couches today with the sound of his laughter wafting in the cold and deceased air. Kyoka sat silently, brushing the pads of her fingers against her phone as she scrolled the news feed of photos that included classmates and bands that she frequented with her headphones. Denki, on the other hand, created tap noises against the glass casing of his phone, saving and laughing at the images that popped on his screen.

“Hahaha! Ok ok ok dude last one!” Denki laughed out, as he nudged Kyoka’s arm with a dorky smile that tainted his lips. Excitement glittered in his eyes as he slightly jumped up and down on the coach in anticipation as his hand gripped the sides of his phone tightly. With a heavy sigh, Kyoka rolled her eyes before settling her callous eyes on the contents that were smeared on Denki’s phone. Plastered on the screen was a picture of meme with a distorted green frog with grotesque lips that had a look of sadness apparent in his eyes. The Arial text above spelled out “when you eating an oreo and dunk it in milk but it breaks off and sinks to the bottom.” Jirou’s eyes twitched looking at the photo with utter confusion while Denki couldn’t suppress his laughter. Photographs like this, formally known as memes, ended becoming a huge part of Denki’s identify, giving him and his buddy Eijirou pleasure during the times where waiting needed to occur but there wasn’t enough time to do other stuff. Even under Mr. Aizawa’s eyes, Denki would sometimes pull out his phone in the middle of class and shift through social media with his thumb, trying to hold back the laughter that would root itself into his lungs anytime he would come across a meme with relatable quotes. Most of his peers commented saying he had an addiction, he would comment back that it’s merely an appreciation of the fine editing skills people have. Which is why he could never understand the cold blooded nature of those who could never find humor in them, example A, his seat partner Kyoka “Oh, c’mon Jirou! How are you not laughing?? It’s hilarious!” He pondered to her lifeless face, trying to stop the laughter from erupting but failing miserably as small drops of liquid lined his eyes.

At his comment, Kyoka looked up from the screen and gave him a lifeless look that screamed out her opinion on his weirdness. She then looked away, giving a face that displayed how disturbed she felt internally and went back to her own device, more focused on the video of metal heads banging their heads back and form in a rocking symphony. “Because it’s stupid, not funny.” she lastly commented before turning back to the screen. Kyoka wasn’t one to indulge in comedic photos such as memes. Rather, she found them to be a waste of time and editing skills and would rather people place their talents into making something more useful like music or anything that would contribute to the world of science. Instead, those same talented people chose to create monstrous images with disfigured faces and childish “relatable” texts that was supposed to appeal to the audience of misfits that interacted with the internet logo.

“Ugh, there you go again Jirou with your tasteless humor. Unless it’s dark and scary,” he emphasized by raising his hands and wiggling his fingers to emulate a figure of a ghost, “you find it stupid. You need to lighten up more, not look like you came out of those old dark poems that talk about crows.” he huffed out as he temporarily crossed his arms, puffing his cheeks at Jirou’s temperament. If only Mineta wasn’t busy today, he would have totally laughed along with him and even brought some special magazines for them to ogle at while gossiping about how the latest trends would look on the girls. Or even Eijirou would have appreciated his humor and swap a few back with him, creating a meme drug dealing ring that included snickers with Bakugou sitting there telling them to shut up. However, Eijirou decided to visit home for the weekend and Mineta was out parading all the lingerie stores so all the company Denki had was his seatmate Kyoka, though he wouldn’t consider it company at with her lack of empathy and banter.

After a bit of silence with occasional chuckles coming from Denki as he continued to scroll through the infinite hole of Facebook, Kyoka noticed that her battery life suddenly turned into the zone of red, alarming her that it needed juice and fast. But with a quick look around, she saw all the outlets completely taken with other electronic devices, wires sticking out to what seemed like important utilities. Well...not all. Her eyes shifted to Denki and her eyes fixated him a bit, studying his movements. It seemed like he wasn’t noticing her glare and was just laughing at the images that were shown on his screen. An idea suddenly popped in her head. “Hey Denki, can you charge my phone?”

At the word charge, Denki immediately shot up and gave her a horrified and distasteful look. “What? No way dude! Just because I can use electricity doesn’t mean I’m your portable charger. Go to your room or something.” he said bitterly, nauseated with Jirou’s comment, indicating that this exchange has happened before and it went into a fallout each time his mind allowed it to happen. Denki’s electricity was known to be incredible force that had an soaring amplification and a simple emittance of electricity like that could send him into a sparkling overload, which was not a pleasurable feeling for him to say the least.

However, Kyoka didn’t listen to words coming out of his mouth one again and she immediately shoved her charger into his mouth, causing him to completely go into an impede with shock waves that was creased with lighting all around. A muffled scream came out from the inside of his lungs as he yelped out the pain that the voltages were charging in his neurons. Though, even though he was under the heat and agony of his electricity, Kyoka’s phone immediately surged up and a small smile spread as she yanked her charger from his mouth and continued to browse through her newsfeed.

Meanwhile, all thoughts completely removed themselves from Denki’s mind and he became a mindless drone that could only speak in terms of “Wheyy”. He slowly arose from his seat and began to aimlessly walk around the living room, his thumbs sticking out in an upwards position to indicate his good status while his face had the look of a mind numbing idiot. Kyoka’s eyes would occasionally gear up and a little snort would escape her nose as she saw him bump into furniture and walls he knew was there. While on the outside Denki looked dumbfounded and spaced out as if he just ingested the new drugs on the market, his inner workings glared at Kyoka and already began to form schemes on how to attack her next time.

#lizwrites #kamijirou #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #jirou kyouka #kyouka jirou #kirishima eijirou #kaminari x jirou #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fics

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