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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years

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A Private Sunrise

Ever since Jesper found out he’s the Sun Summoner, he’s been on the run. Well, sort of. He got side-tracked in Ketterdam, but now that Kaz is talking to Grisha of the Second Army, his five-year reprieve is over. Or is it?

7.8k | Kaz/Jesper, pre-Kaz/Jesper/Inej | content note: explicit sex

Jesper’s already in position when the tell-tale clacks of the cane herald Kaz’ arrival. He’s hidden behind the cracked-open door inside of a sick sleeping widow’s house, with a clear getaway path out the back, just within earshot—the perfect spot to find out just how his boss plans to sell him out.

The meeting’s on the docks in Fifth Harbour. Out in the open, but safely within Dregs territory, and in the old well-functioning part of the area that’s used for trade in everyday goods besides. The boring part. Bustling when there are cargo ships arriving and leaving, but this early in the morning and right after a storm, there’s no-one here but Kaz’ new clients: two Grisha from Ravka in their proud blue keftas, conspicuous and unafraid. Soldiers of the Second Army. Emissaries of the Darkling, on the hunt for the Sun Summoner, and they’ve finally caught up to—

Kaz is shadowed by Anika. Hers would have been Jesper’s place, if he’d been around to get asked. If he hadn’t overheard the exchange between Inej and Pim thirty minutes ago and bolted to the meeting place alone. If he hadn’t been on edge for the whole day because it was clear Kaz had his claws in a lucrative offer that involved some sort of fancy political parleying and yet he hadn’t told Jesper to clean his guns and stop drinking. Right behind Kaz’ shoulder, guarding his back, that would have been Jesper’s place.

And most likely, Kaz would have handed him right over.

Even Kaz, blind as he’s been despite the obsession with the Sun Summoner that started just a few months after Jesper joined the Dregs… but then it sometimes feels like Kaz is Ketterdam, and he always claimed his mother’s the harbour, and really it’s Ketterdam who got obsessed with the Sun Summoner. Trinkets everywhere, renamed bars, even plays based on hastily-written romance novels. A new gaudy cult. Kaz just followed his city, and his interest was always tinged with enough private wry amusement that Jesper could make himself believe it wasn’t any danger, that maybe Kaz didn’t actually think of the Sun Summoner as a real physical person that could be hiding right inside the Dregs. Faith is its own thing, after all. And he had faith that maybe Kaz just didn’t want to follow the clues to Jesper, because he knew this would happen, and he didn’t want his second dragged away in chains. Despite everything Jesper let slip, all those mistakes; despite that time Kaz found him passed out in a mercher’s cellar who’d earlier cut him into lighting up. Despite everything, maybe he wouldn’t find out. Jesper’s desperate heart hoped so.

Not enough to not spy on the meeting, though. Not even he’sgoing to continue staking his life on those odds.

Kaz was bound to catch a clue sooner or later as to the prize hiding right inside his grasp. With the right motivation, and the presence of Ravkan Grisha soldiers means Ravkan official business which means a reward from the deep coffers of the Ravkan crown…

Jesper’s been doing his best to hide, but if it’s his own mind against that of Kaz Brekker, yeah, he knows which one he’s betting on. He’s fucked. Obviously, Kaz knows. He’s Kaz.

So when Kaz starts talking to those Etherealki, niceties first obviously, yada yada yada, My time is not cheap, do not bore me with children’s stories, Jesper’s already heard enough.

He shouldn’t even have come here. He just wanted—but that’s stupid, the height of sentimentality and Kaz is going to smirk with that smirk he does when a particularly dumb mark walks into the most obvious of traps. Kaz is going to mock him when he hands Jesper over to the Darkling and collects his two hundred thousand million kruge or whatever, and he’s going to say, “You stayed in one place, with the Dregs, with me the criminal genius, for five entire years despite an international manhunt and a massive bounty and then, when you had advance warning so you could have escaped, instead you went to spy on the meeting hoping it would be a false alarm? Because you’re in love with me? With the Bastard of the Barrel who never tells you anything? Dirtyhands who’s bound to get bored of all your mistakes? Me, who can barely even tolerate you?” (And not all of that is true, Jesper knows he’s catastrophizing out of panic, but that still doesn’t mean Kaz would give up a fat reward for him.) “And you’re even greedier, because you love Inej too. She’ll choose me, you know, and I’ll choose her and the kruge, but you’re just so happy being a third wheel, aren’t you? Anything for those scraps. Well, thanks for the money.” Or something like that, anyway. Jesper’s Kaz impression is much better when he isn’t running. Or trying not to panic. It’s better out loud, too, when he can do the rasp.

(Fuck, the Kaz inside his head is mean. And yeah, Jesper does enjoy that kind of thing sometimes, but not… not when it’s his entire life on the line. His heart. Not when it’s everything he’s ever tried to deny is true, or is that the panic lying to him again?)

It’s just that this was home.

Ketterdam was his home, and the Barrel was, and the Slat… It was home, and after what happened to Da’s farm, he never thought he could have a home again. That cheap bar over there with beer that’s three quarters rainwater so it always tastes of the soothing grime of the rooftops, the mercher statue that’s a pissoir for a perpetually drunk night- and daylife… The house against which on the eve of last Fastebreek he sucked off a guy dressed in a particularly good costume of Matz Drescher, so good he almost looked like the real… so okay, he’s not writing a particularly good tourist brochure right now, but the point is. This was home.

Every single cobblestone he treads on on his way right back to the Slat, because he bolted off tonight nearly skint since he usually doesn’t carry around big sacks of kruge because the children of Ketterdam are impressive little bastard thieves and he’s too soft to break their thumbs and he’d just gamble everything away usually anyway… but now he needs to secure passage off Kerch and so he needs serious money, and that means he needs to go back to his stash before he leaves. Needs to waste precious time. And every stone. Every single house. It’s all calling to him to stay home. Because it was.

For five years, it’s been his home. Five years. Fuck. That’s longer by a factor of ten than any place he’s stayed in ever since people found out Jesper can shoot sunlight from his skin. Since he was a boy, lighting up a room with his stupid hands in his Da’s farm right in front an open window and loose-lipped neighbours. Five years, and now it’s gone.

He can’t even blame Kaz. Sure, Kaz is right now selling him to the Darkling and if Jesper’s got any luck left—he should have, because it all has to balance out, and today has otherwise been a shitshow, plus all those thousands of gambled-away kruge must count for something, right?—if he’s got any luck, if Ghezen starts giving a fuck and shows any mercy to his runaway saint, it’ll take a sweet minute until they can agree on a price because Kaz is a greedy bastard and—yeah, Kaz is a greedy bastard. And a superb haggler. He’s already got a good deal. He’s coming. Jesper can’t even blame him. He’s known all along that Kaz would sell his brother for a few kruge and still he went and fell in love with the guy. Because Jesper’s the stupidest person who ever lived, and honestly, can’t they make Saints out of people who’ve got it together a little more? Anti-Jespers, if you will. Because sure, Jesper’s a man of many talents, but mind-blowing sex and stellar wit and incredible beauty aren’t exactly—or at least they don’t feature prominently in Inej’s tales, and she’s the premier source of sainthood in his life, so—

He’s panicking, and it’s not even the good panic of a fight, the kind of panic that makes everything sharp and clear and narrows the world to the gun and the target. The panic that orders his thoughts. That keeps him on track. This is cornered animal panic. Everything solid’s dissolving into air around him, inside him, and he can’t hold the gas in his fingers, can’t hold onto home, onto friends, onto his brain. His thoughts are flickering even quicker than usual, and they’re even more useless.

He’s losing it, both figuratively, and, well, actually. It. He’s losing it. He’s losing everything. If only there was something he could cling to, something soft, but he’s completely and utterly alone now. And forever. He’s lost both Kaz and Inej.

At least he’s finally arrived at the Slat. No-one stops him when he goes in (though really, why would they? It’s the going out again part that might get tricky) and no-one even talks to him when he dashes to his room. There’s two empty bottles of his favourite rum in front of Jesper’s door that he didn’t put there, but that’s a mystery he will carry forever. What should he—but actually, getting to his room was pointless, even if it’s full of a million little trinkets and some shirts he really wants—but Kaz is laughing at his sentimentality from somewhere in the harbour, a private little rumble that usually Jesper would give his left pinkie to have caused, but—anyway, no. He doesn’t have enough money in his room to pay for last-minute passage. Six months ago, he started dipping into his emergency escape fund to pay off gambling debts, and there’s not nearly enough left. Stupid Jesper. He felt too safe. Somewhere, Kaz is laughing. Kaz, who’s surely got enough squirreled away…

And yeah, breaking into Kaz’ office and bedroom is a challenge and, even worse, a violation of trust, but either Jesper gets on a boat or Jesper gets on a boat, this time shackled to within an inch of his life and flanked by dour Second Army Grisha on the way to a militaristic creep, so Kaz’ rooms it’ll have to be. He’s watched Kaz lock the door often enough. Breaking in won’t be easy or fun, but then, this isn’t the night for either.

In the wood next to the doorknob, someone scratched a tiny blessing of the Sun Summoner, and Jesper’s still not sure what Kaz believes (he talks of the Sun Summoner enough that everyone in the Barrel knows of his interest, but that could just be—and anyway, he’s working with the Darkling to sell out Jesper. Whatever he believes of the Sun Summoner, he believes in kruge more. But sometimes, on desperate jobs in deep dark cellars when they’re alone and the last light’s flickered out, Kaz will say, “The Sun Summoner could illuminate this—” and Jesper’ll cringe away lest he accidentally does what Kaz asks) but anyway. Jesper’ll never know. He’ll never see Kaz again. And it was probably Inej, that blessing. Kaz’ fascination with the Sun Summoner’s always had a weird edge, as if it’s a joke only he’s privy too, and that’s made Jesper feel safe, but. Maybe it was at his expense. Maybe he was taunting Jesper—

Please please please, Jesper keeps begging the door while he jiggles the lockpick because the stress is actually making him lose his mind, please I don’t want to betray him I just want to live, and when that doesn’t work, he shoots the lock until it gives in. Crude, desperate, not his style—but then, his life’s over. Why should he even care about being a good thief anymore?

The office is the more promising room in terms of small hidden sacks of kruge, but it’s also the place that Jesper’s already been inside, and the bedroom—well, it’s dark. Blacker than the night. Blacker than Dirtyhands’ soul, people would say, and Jesper almost laughs, but. Focus. No hysterics until he’s on the boat. The dark’s unnatural, deeper than the night was outside, almost like the Darkling—but it’s just some sort of specialty extra heavy black curtains, and when Jesper’s pulled them aside to let the moonlight in, the room just looks ordinary.

Well, slightly bigger than Jesper’s room, enough for a small bed and a wardrobe and paintings Jesper only recognizes because some mercher or other made a big stink about losing them and a dinky old chair and a set of storage racks, piled with—seriously? Okay, Jesper actually likes that book. In it, the Sun Summoner’s a young woman plucked from an orphanage, caught between duty to destroy the Fold—or is it duty? She’s manipulated, so—but anyway, she’s caught between duty and love. Of course, she chooses love. It’s a bit sappy, but Jesper likes to think he would, too, if he got the chance. But of course, his loves are not a devoted childhood friend but Dirtyhands and his Wraith, and they’re gonna sell him out. They already have. He’s not going to choose despairing self-sacrifice on the altar of their greed, and, well. Going against duty and love for cowardice and self-pity and gambling doesn’t sound nearly as good. It’ll have to do, though. It’s all he has left. He moves on.

A statuette and some trinkets and knives and more terrible cheap books about fake Jesper and—oh, this is too good. This is actually hilarious. A Saint in Ketterdam, or The Misfortunes of Virtue is the worst of them all. Out of all the books that appeared in Ketterdam in that weird craze for Sun Summoner pulp fiction that started three years ago and nearly gave Jesper a heart attack, it’s the most ludicrously verbose and metaphorical, and the most downright pornographic, so much it makes even Jesper blush, and Jesper’s seen some shit. Once. He didn’t know she was into coprophilia, okay? But the point is, it’s full-on detailed and depraved. It also does Jesper—well, the Sun Summoner, but they’re one and the same which is in fact the root of every single one of his problems—a huge disservice. The sister, he could see himself as: gay, wanton and unprincipled sounds about right, but a naïve virtuous maiden unwittingly seduced? The corruption of innocence? He’s no good for that kind of fetish. He gambles, okay. He has guns. He knows what sex is. He’s had lots of it. Most of it even good. Spectacular, actually. He wasn’t even that much of a pigeon when he first stumbled into Ketterdam, or Kaz wouldn’t have swept him up into the Dregs so quickly.

Really, the only redeeming factor of the book is Matz Drescher, the villain. Seductive and hot and thinly patterned on… oh, he owns this book and the veiling is thin as gossamer, of courseKaz knows that it’s supposed to be him. Bulked up and far more touchy and the writer fucking robbed him of his limp and he’s not nearly as deadpan funny, but with enough of a squint and enough wishful fantasizing, the vile King of Ketterdam might be Kaz, a little grown up and ready to fuck. He’s the only reason Jesper can quote some parts. But sadly, Kaz’ copy doesn’t even have those thin-page-crinkles of a well-used book, so he definitely didn’t appreciate certain scenes the way Jesper did. At least the sequel’s nowhere to be found. What it did to Kaz—well, Matz, and anyway, what kind of lust-killing come-one is Why is there straw laying around here? anyway? Who the fuck would be seduced by—except he can think of a couple scenarios where—focus, Jesper. Kruge. You’re looking for kruge. So you can escape. Stop panicking. Stop distracting yourself from panicking. Just stop.

Being inside Kaz’ bedroom is doing weird things to his brain, but he has to—

Fuck.

Soft dark eyes on the windowsill. Set in a soft face, dark layered clothes, and, thankfully, no knives out. Yet. Still. Inej.

Inej.

She’s caught him.

Caught him rifling hastily through Kaz’ collection of Sun Summoner paraphernalia, not his coins that he still hasn’t found yet, but still. She’s the favourite, and she has her favourites, too. If there’s a choice between him and Kaz, he knows which way she’ll go. So if she’s here, she surely knows what Kaz has in store for him and she’s going to—

“What are you doing, Jesper?” she asks, gently, sadly. He’s never before thought her cruel, and yet—if at least she was gloating, he could try to fight his way out and be at peace with it.

“Just let me leave,” Jesper begs instead, guns in his hands and blinking so the stupid tears stop blurring his eyes. He could aim blind, but—he needs to see. Needs to see if there’s any chance he gets out of this without hurting her. And Inej is soft. She’s good. She’ll do it for Kaz, do anything, but—she likes Jesper, and so he needs to not cry. It’ll hurt her too much if she knows he’s in pain while they betray him. “I won’t even get far. You know the schedules of every boat leaving Ketterdam, but just let me try, please. Just let me—”

“Jes.”

She’s not making it easy. She still doesn’t have a knife out yet; she’s just sitting on the windowsill looking worried and kind and beautiful. Oh, Inej. Jesper knows she believes in the Saints. Maybe if he made her believe in him and then asked her to let him—but no, he can’t make her choose between her faith and Kaz. He wants to live and be free, but he’s not that cruel. Or is he?

Jesper’s not survived nearly seven years of hiding from the most powerful Grisha in existence and the entire country of Ravka and every kruge-drunk idiot who fancies himself a bounty hunter by being kind or by hesitating. Hesitating isn’t his thing in general.

If Kaz had sent anyone else to drag him to his doom, he’d have put a bullet in their chest before they could even say his name no matter how much he likes them, but this is Inej. The scared young girl newly clad in Barrel garb that he tried to impress—but mostly to entertain, to lessen her fear, by trying to climb after her onto the roof of the Slab and then, because Inej’s a human anti-gravity miracle and following her was definitely way harder than he expected, nearly falling to his death. She’d caught his wrist, just in time, and then patiently pushed his legs to foothold after foothold so he'd climb back down safely. Inej, the woman who gives him a heart attack every second day by mysteriously appearing right in front of him, just because she can and because she still thinks it’s funny. Inej, who leaves food and water on his windowsill on the anniversary of the day when Jesper got his Da killed and makes excuses (to Kaz!) for his two-day benders. Inej, who ducks her head at his jokes. Inej.

He can’t hurt Inej. That’s why she’s here. Kaz knows he can’t.

At least she doesn’t look any happier than he is. “Whatever trouble you’re in, Jesper, just get out of this room and go to sleep. Get blackout drunk so he won’t suspect a thing,” she entreats. “I won’t say anything. I’ll help you. I’ll get you the money. Kaz doesn’t have to know.”

“Unfortunately, Kaz does know,” comes a dry rasp from the doorway, and Jesper’s trapped in the middle of his two favourite people in the entire world. It feels like a waking nightmare.

Love is a cruel master. He should have shot Inej and run when he had the chance.

“We were simply testing your security,” she says, like an absolutely atrocious liar who’s already realized there is no point in dissembling, and then suddenly Inej is standing right in-between Jesper and Kaz. It’s a tactically stupid move, because now he can throw himself out of the attic window, but he doesn’t jump to his death because—well, Inej’s protection won’t change his ultimate fate, and yet—he doesn’t want her to watch him jump. He’s stupidly, embarrassingly grateful she doesn’t want him to get hurt. He’ll remember this, when he’s locked up deep inside the Little Palace. He’ll remember Inej trying to shield him. Fuck, he’s going to miss her.

Kaz, though, doesn’t even raise an eyebrow. Not at Inej’s blatant teleportation (how is she real?), not at her lie, not even at the fact that Jesper completely betrayed him and broke into his bedroom. He looked tense at first, but then he always is, and now his shoulders are drooping slightly and his words are calm and measured even if they also absolutely make no fucking sense whatsoever. “You’re accompanying me to the parley with the Razorgulls tomorrow, Jesper,” Kaz orders, as if nothing about this night had happened at all. “Do not be late again. We all know what happened tonight. I had to find Anika because you decided to get blind drunk even though you knewyou had a job to do—”

And that’s news to Jesper. He didn’t have any orders yesterday whatsoever, and yeah, he drank a little last evening before he heard Inej and Pim talk about the Grisha—the Grisha who wanted to talk to Kaz in a meeting he definitely was never officially informed about, but—could he have forgotten—no, he didn’t miss anything. A stupid part inside Jesper really wants to believe Kaz when he’s talking with that much conviction, but he’s fucking lying. For no reason Jesper can understand. He’s—

“—and don’t deny it, everyone’s seen the bottles—”

Right, the rum. The empty bottles of rum outside his door that Jesper definitely didn’t drink. He doesn’t even have the money to buy them. He’s broke. That’s why he’s still here.

“So you’ll have to make it up to me, of course. I cannot have a second who gets dead drunk on a day he is supposed to be at work, but I won’t demote you just yet. Anika isn’t as good a shot as you and I need a gunslinger for the Razorgulls. But only because tonight was a waste of time anyway—”

Wait, what?! Jesper hardly dares hope—

“—and you’ll help Kerstjen practice her card dealing, too, however hungover you are. It’s your punishment. Eight bells sharp, later this morning. Do not disappoint me again.”

“Tonight was a waste of time!?” Jesper asks breathlessly, and then mentally kicks himself. The man he’s pretending to be who definitely isn’t a mythic Grisha hunted for profit by half the entire world has no reason to sound that eager.

Luckily Kaz seems to miss his mistake, though, because he just explains, “It seems the military command of Ravka have read one too many novels and lost their grip on reality. I wouldn’t have expected it, but then, merit and brains hardly factor into promotions in Ravka, I suppose.” He looks very pleased with himself when he primly adds, “So I had to explain to them that pornography is not, in fact, real. We all would like to see the Sun Summoner, but here in Ketterdam, seduced by a rakish criminal? That’s ludicrous. The book isn’t even good. Every single person in Ketterdam could have told them to stop announcing they’re perverts in public. ‘Have you seen the Sun Summoner in Ketterdam?’ Please, there are children here. They left.”

It’s too good to be true. Far too good. Wait—

“Back to business. This morning, since you’ll be gambling with Kerstjen on my behalf and will inevitably get distracted by another game, you can have a tab of a hundred kruge. No more,” and—

Fuck. Even terrified and utterly flummoxed as he is, Jesper can’t help himself. “Kaz, are you bribing me to go to work?” he teases.

“Do I have to?” Kaz asks, but he still looks far too amused. His stare is intense and tearing right into Jesper’s soul, and—he knows.

The bastard knows.

Jesper’s face burns. His most awful secret, and of course Kaz knows it. He’s probably always known. Jesper, for five entire years, was hiding right next to the most terrifyingly clever man in all of Ketterdam. All of Kerch. The world. Of course Kaz knows, and now he’s taunting Jesper. Taunting Jesper by pretending everything is okay and that he sent the Ravkans right back home when he could have gained a million thousand kruge by handing over their Saint. Kaz looks weirdly happy while he’s telling a completely made-up story about a world where Jesper gets to have good things too, and nothing makes any sense whatsoever.

Jesper shoots a glance over at Inej, but she looks just as lost as Jesper is right now.

He should—Jesper could play along now with Kaz’ pretend ignorance, and maybe Kaz isn’t just totally toying with his heart, maybe the Ravkans are gone, but even if it’s okay for a while… the next guy will come for the Sun Summoner and they’ll be right back here and the only way out of this is though. He swallows. “What are you talking about, boss?” And so Kaz can’t just spin more bullshit, he presents Dirtyhands his naked, shivering heart. “You know, right? You knowabout me.”

“Don’t be stupid, Jesper,” Kaz says. “The Sun Summoner’s a living Saint. He has dignity. We both know you’re just an idiot. Absolutely no-one could mix you up.”

And that’s the last straw. The terror of the last hour, of five years with the Dregs, of nearly seven years of running and hiding and mourning and the absolute certainty he’ll end up caged somewhere in the deepest basement of the Little Palace for the rest of his life if he starts trusting anyone ever bursts out of him, and Jesper starts laughing. Sobbing. Whatever. “You knew. You fucking knew, you bastard, you knew all along.”

“Inej, close the curtains,” Kaz hisses suddenly, but Jesper’s too busy to pay much attention.

“You knew—”

“Everyone’s talking about the Sun Summoner now. Everywhere. Sightings, every year, every month, but it’ll turn out to be a woman playing dress-up or a child’s flights of fancy after an all-book diet. In five weeks, there’ll be an explosion that looks like sunlight. It will take months to determine that it was an explosive, but they will find hard evidence it was a fraud. They’ll get jaded eventually. They’ll never find the needle in this haystack,” Kaz rasps idly. “Maybe I’ll even set the explosion off in Fjerda. The bomb’s very realistic. You’d like the guy who makes them. Wylan’s a very talented young man.”

“You did all of that—for me?”

“A decent sharp-shooter is hard to come by. I had to protect my investment,” Kaz replies, like Jesper knew he would. But Jesper also knows he’s baldly, gloriously fucking lying.

Kaz doesn’t just give up a million trillion kruge reward for nothing.

But he did it for Jesper.

He should have known better than to believe he can predict Kaz fucking Brekker. He should have expected Kaz to turn his world upside down, to pull off the utterly unthinkable. To profane a Saint so he could disguise him in a sea of romantic stories and idiosyncratic cults. He should have trusted Kaz. He should never have believed his own insecurities about his place in Kaz’ life. By trying so hard not to underestimate Kaz’ greed, ironically, Jesper completely underestimated him in everything else. What a miracle of a man.

For so long Jesper’s been trying to understand what drives the Bastard of the Barrel, hanging onto every scrap of information, desperate to get close to the true Kaz and never managing, two steps forward and two steps back, and for every moment he’s been silently rejected, left in the dark or wondering if after the next mistake Kaz would wash his hands of him—for every hope dashed there was a conversation, a look, something that left Jesper wondering if Kaz actually did like him back.

It’s addictive, that kind of uncertainty. If you play that card, are you going to win or lose? Is it wise to bet on black? And the next time?

Jesper never could walk away from a gamble.

And now all his terrible luck at the tables makes sense. You don’t get unlimited luck, after all, and it turns out he spent all of his years ago, spent many lifetimes of it: Jesper was the luckiest person in the entire world the day he got Kaz Brekker on his side.

“I could kiss you, Kaz,” he bursts out and—

“Not necessary—”

—before Jesper’s brain has caught up to his feet he’s already clear across the room and grabbing Kaz by the shoulder.

Kaz flinches.

Fuck.

Fuck Jesper’s luck. Fuck his brain. Did he really have to fuck everything up now? But when he tries to pull his hand away it doesn’t move because wrapped around his wrist, holding him still, is a strong slim hand in a tight leather glove, and—

“Oh,” comes Kaz’ small, breathy rasp. “That doesn’t feel like bloated corpses.”

Some small part of Jesper’s brain that is greedy for anything Kaz will gave him wants to latch onto this frankly disturbing detail (why would Jesper’s hand on his shoulder feel like a corpse? What the fuck, Brekker?!) but a much larger part of him, equally greedy, wants to bask in his hand on Kaz’ shoulder—his own hand! on Kaz!—and Kaz’ hand on his wrist—Kaz’ hand! Kaz is still touching him!—for as long as he can.

The remaining, utterly horrified part has just realized that Jesper’s hand is glowing like a supernova.

He pulls away again, desperately.

Kaz’ hand is like a bear trap. It still won’t let him move. His voice, though, is still soft and small when he rasps, “You’re safe. Those curtains are Fabrikator-made. No light will penetrate them.”

And Jesper hadn’t even thought of that problem, because— “Kaz, I’m burning you!”

“It’s alright. You’re hot, but far less hot than I thought.”

“Ouch. That’s harsh, boss. Kick a man while he’s down,” Jesper jokes, because he can’t not, and—there are bright red splotches now high up on Kaz’ gaunt cheeks. The sunlight that—fuck, the light that Jesper’s shooting from his pores has turned his dark brown irises almost golden, and his pupils are blown wide. The light reflects too from whatever pomade he’s used to slick back his floppy hair into something severe. He’s flushing even more red from the heat, and he’s worrying his thin lower lip with his teeth. When he releases it, it’s bruised and slick.

He’s the most beautiful man that Jesper’s ever seen.

“You don’t need to—can you—” Kaz is pulling Jesper’s hand from his arm now, and Jesper’s already resigned to another rejection—it’s pathetic, but he’ll feed off this moment forever—but he’s not pushing but pulling Jesper’s glowing hand upwards, and then he pauses. Looks at Jesper, with uncharacteristic trepidation.

“Anything, boss,” Jesper gasps. “Anything you want. Anything. It’s yours.”

And Kaz pushes his cheek against Jesper’s hand.

It feels just like touching a normal human cheek. Except not, because this is Kaz’ actual physical bare human skinthat Jesper’s touching for the first time, and also because now he’s focused on the sensation his own hand doesn’t quite feel like his. It’s buzzing, pulsing, the sensory equivalent of glowing, but it’s also Jesper’s right hand that he’s had his whole life simultaneously and really, he’d love to sort this conundrum out, but he’s busy. He’s touching Kaz. Kaz Brekker. Dirtyhands. Kaz.

Kaz’ eyes are closed now. He’s pushing his cheek faintly, rhythmically, against Jesper’s hand—his cheek’s flushed but there’s no actual burns under Jesper’s fingers, thank everything, and he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. Although he is trembling, shuddering, shaking, so hard that it actually looks like he might fall over, and proactively Jesper gently pushes against his cheek so he starts taking jerky limping half-steps backward until his legs hit the edge of his bed and he sinks gratefully downward, hand still pulling Jesper’s hand against his cheek, a drunk look on his face.

“What do you want, boss?” Jesper whispers, swallowing down the suave seduction that is his area of excellence for something patient and gentle. It’s not a tone of voice he can imagine anyone ever having used for the Bastard of the Barrel, but it feels right, inevitable, when Kaz is underneath him so responsive and debauched from a single hand against his cheek. “We can just stay like this. You can have my hand forever. Or you can have my other hand too, wherever you like it, my mouth, anything. You know it’s yours.”

“It’s—so much,” Kaz whispers hoarsely. “Trail that hand down. No, the other one.”

Fair. Jesper should have known that Kaz isn’t going to let him have his right hand back considering his hand’s still clamped around the wrist tight as a vice. Jesper’s going to have a massive bruise tomorrow. Intense arousal, though, has always been great at turning sensations on their head and it’s no different for this pain. It just feels sweet right now. Promising.

And Kaz wants the second hand as well.

Kaz wants—

Kaz wants him.

It doesn’t even matter right now if it’s just because Jesper’s the Sun Summoner. For the first time, that power doesn’t feel like a curse anymore but actually, like his mom used to say, zowa. A blessing. A part of him, a blessed part that Kaz wants to be touched by, and anyway, Kaz is hiding him. Kaz has put years of work into hiding him, into constructing bombs and spreading rumours and bribing authors and making the Sun Summoner the butt of a thousand jokes, just for Jesper.

Some part of Jesper—the part that drives him again and again to the gambling tables when he can ill afford to lose any more money, the part that feels most alive with his guns in his hands—is thrilling with excitement. Not just because this is Kaz, whom he’s adored for years without any expectation of return, but because this is Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, ruthless thief and violent killer and feared by all, far more terrifying and more lovely than Matz Drescher and alive, panting as he pushes his straining dick up to meet Jesper’s left hand.

This isn’t any kind of lewd fiction. This isn’t a boy in costume.

This is real.

This is Kaz.

This is Kaz that he’s bent over, and he isn’t anything like what Jesper dreamed of. He isn’t ordering Jesper to get down on his knees or present his naked ass on the bed, like he did in certain fantasies that Jesper allowed himself a moment to feel sad and pathetic about, once he’d finished wiping the come off his dick. He isn’t demanding his own pleasure, and even the light thrusting of his hips feels very polite. He isn’t saying anything. He’s biting his lips more often than not, and when moans manage to escape the walls he’s built they are small and breathy. He looks so sweet and so incredibly stunned that they’re here at all, and his eyes dart down to Jesper’s hand rubbing his prick through his trousers sometimes but they always come back up to Jesper’s face, as if he doesn’t want to forget for a second that this is Jesper he’s doing it with.

He’s still clutching Jesper’s other hand against his cheek.

Daringly, Jesper presses a small kiss against the wrist of the hand that’s holding him captive. He’s never kissed leather before. He likes it.

Loves it.

His back’s starting to cramp from the awkward stoop he’s doing to reach Kaz without touching him with anything but his hands, but he could do this forever, he could make love like this forever, he could—

Fuck.

Inej. He’s totally forgotten about Inej, and as turned on as Jesper is right now and as drunk as Kaz is on lust, on touch, on the willing explicit devotion of the most expensive Grisha in the world, whatever—as hot as this weird thing they’re doing is, Jesper should have made sure that everyonein this room is good with every single thing that happens. It’s his responsibility as a decent human criminal. No sex without everyone’s consent.

Kaz isn’t talking, but Kaz is fine; he seems more likely to break Jesper’s hand if he stops right now than if he keeps going, but Inej… It wasn’t just Jesper and Kaz in this room. Inej was here too, and he completely forgot about her.

He just started feeling Kaz up without a care in the world like the impulsive idiot he is, but he should have talked to her first, talked it out with both of them or given her the chance to leave, and he didn’t, and that’s bad. It’s horrendous. It’s the worst thing he’s ever done in his miscreant life, worse than anything he’s ever imagined himself capable of doing. Inej clamped up the one time Jesper jokingly flirted with her, way back long before he found out what happened to her at the Menagerie, and he just turned her into an unwilling voyeuristic participant. Fuck.

He cranes his head for her, subtly, because Kaz finally opened up and Jesper can’t spook him now, he can’t destroy both people he loves in one night, he just can’t, but—

She’s gone already.

Inej silently slipped out of the room and closed the door to the office that Kaz had left open, and if Ghezen has any luck left for Jesper, she did it a while ago.

Jesper’s erection has officially vacated the premises after that shock. Kaz is still hard, though; he’s still making lovely punched-out little noises when Jesper grinds the heel of his palm against his crotch, and—why stop now. What’s done with Inej is done. Maybe she left early enough, and if not—he still has the entire rest of his life to loathe himself. Just let him have this now; let Kaz have it, everything that Jesper can give him and more, and it’s not like either of them was making any use of Jesper’s dick in the first place. Who cares his arousal got killed. This is more than enough.

Just abusing the heat and pressure of the sun to give a handjob to Kaz Brekker. No big deal.

Kaz is as quiet when he comes as he was all along. Just his hips stuttering more and more and his breath growing harsh and his head turning to the side, away from Jesper’s hand that he’s still crushing in his grip, and then the front of his trousers turns wet under Jesper’s palm. (Jesper idly wonders whether he can use the sun to dry it again, but firstly it would just get stiff and also, sure Jesper himself likes it when he’s still sensitive after the orgasm and the stimulation’s so intense it hurts, but he probably has to clear that up with Kaz first before he touches him spent.)

Jesper stays right where he was, forcing himself to be motionless, unwilling to let the moment break yet, and it takes a long while until Kaz turns his head back.

His eyes are even brighter now, and sunlight’s reflecting in streaks on his cheeks, because he’s—crying?

“I didn’t think I was that bad of a lay,” Jesper whispers, just to pierce the tension a little.

“Shut up, Jesper. Fishing for compliments is beneath you. Your ego doesn’t need to get any bigger,” Kaz rasps out, his voice almost back to normal even if it’s still a little soft, and Jesper clings both to that softness and to the familiar rasp, prays this wasn’t a mistake, that he hasn’t just fucked up what he and Kaz had, and then Kaz drops back down onto the bed.

A few minutes later, he starts snoring.

“I should have known you’re that kind of guy,” Jesper grumbles fondly as he stretches out his cramping back. But really. How could he have known? The Kaz inside his head never let him stay afterwards, and the real one never even showed any interest before that he didn’t immediately contradict. And Matz Drescher from the book wasn’t realistic at all, it turned out.

“At least put on bedclothes. Lay down properly,” Jesper exhorts his sleeping boss—lover—Kaz, but he doesn’t dare do it any louder than barely moving his lips. It’s who knows how early in the morning, after all, and Kaz sleeps too little as it is. He can’t be comfortable, laying sideways at the foot of his narrow bed with his entire legs stretching off the edge, spread wide while Jesper’s still standing in-between his thighs, but also, if he wakes up, he might want to talk, and Jesper’s barely processed that what just happened was real let alone dealt with the tears and This doesn’t feel like corpses and the insanity of Kaz’ plan to protect the Sun Summoner by making him the star of a million romantic stories and the incredible, unexpected sweetness that is Kaz in bed. Plus, he’s probably super grumpy when he’s woken up. He’s grumpy at all other times, so it stands to reason.

Jesper, meanwhile, is still a lightshow, (though maybe it’s his wishful thinking but he looks dimmer than before he fucked Kaz), and as far as he knows this is the only room in Ketterdam with curtains that hide his presence. He can’t leave just yet.

So Jesper picks up the cane and leans it against the foot of the bed and then he sinks down to his knees between Kaz’ splayed thighs. Calming his breathing, basking in the afterglow, and then—bored. While he’s here lit up by his unwanted power, he may as well do some good. Heat is good for pain, right? Alternatively, etiquette demands he also clean off the semen, but Kaz definitely won’t like him fumbling with his trousers while he’s asleep. But simple Sun Summoner touch… Maybe Kaz won’t mind. He clutched that burning hand to his face as hard as he clings to sackfuls of kruge. And so Jesper softly touches Kaz’ bad leg, and, when Kaz shows no signs of waking, starts massaging the sunlight deeper into the muscle.

He doesn’t know how long it takes until the light fades. It does, though, finally, and as soon as it does he lets go. Corpses, after all. Wouldn’t want to wake him up like that, not when he fell apart over a simple touch to his cheek, and so in the unnatural safe dark of the Fabrikator curtains, Jesper stays kneeling like a saint before his silent god.

The door creaks.

A growing slither of sunlight bathes the floor, bathes still-snoring Kaz and Jesper before him, and hastily, he scrambles up, careful not to touch either of the legs around him. He scurries out the door and stops dead, right in front of Inej.

“It’s past seven bells,” she says. “If you want to get to the Crow Club in time you should start getting ready.”

“What,” Jesper says, intelligently.

“Kerstjen? The ‘punishment’ for your absence? He is serious about that, even if everything else was him messing with you.”

Oh. Right. Kaz did talk about something to do with her before he told Jesper he knew he was the Sun Summoner and that he’d been secretly scheming to hide him and was also madly in love with him, or at least liked the feeling of the sun on his face. Or his dick. Both. Focus, Jesper. Right. Kerstjen. And the hundred kruge tab.

And Inej.

“Thanks. But listen, Inej, I don’t know how much you’ve seen…” No, that’s not a good apology. “I’m sorry. I should have checked in with you. I knew you were in the room while me and Kaz—anyway, I should have stopped and made sure you were okay or given you the time to leave. I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I slipped out when you touched his cheek. It seemed you were busy, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Inej’s words are light—and they lift a thousand heavy stones off his heart—but there’s something in her face that seems melancholy, that seems familiar, almost like… jealousy. Jesper’s always known that Kaz tells her more, that he trusts her more, that he loves Inej more than he does Jesper. He’s been jealous of Inej for so long. It feels wrong to see the emotion on her face now.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d stayed,” he says quietly. “If you’d joined in. I don’t know how Kaz feels about it, if there’s even going to be a next time, and it’s only if you want to, of course, if you want me too—”

“Jesper,” she whispers, touching something at her neck.

“—we really need to talk about this, talk about what each of us wants, but yeah. I’d like it.”

She nods. She’s smiling more brightly now, the sadness almost gone, but what she says is, “So. You are Sankt Jesper. Hiding right here in the Barrel.”

“Hey. I’m a really shit saint. I’m not meant to be locked in a palace—could you imagine depriving the good people of Ketterdam of this gorgeous face? A tragedy. Nay, a crime!” He winks exaggeratedly, and to his joy, she grins. “I plan to keep running from my responsibilities forever, and I’d really like it if you help me do it.”

“Kaz has everybody convinced already that the Sun Summoner is a character from awful books and that those who talk about him are delusional or, at best, perverted. So I don’t see how you need my help. But you have it.”

“Thank you. I knew you were my favourite for a reason, Inej Ghafa.” Jesper kisses her left hand softly, and when she glows with delight, her right hand too and then both her cheeks. “I love you.” He looks back into the bedroom, where Kaz is still half hanging off his bed, completely dressed in his mercher’s clothes and still wearing his coat, with a barely visible stain on the front of his pants and snoring softly. “I love you.”

#jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #shadow and bone #sun summoner jesper au #dimtraces makes things #shadow & bone #six of crows #kanej

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michaelneedssomefics · 4 years

Text

On Fire

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: about 2K

warnings: none I think? tell me if something bothers you.

A/N: Guys I’m back with tons of fic ideas, don’t hesitate to ask me for anything too, I’m not limited to only whatever is on my masterlist. hope ya’ll are staying safe!

You have regenerating powers. Your arm gets cut off? It comes back. But it’s painful. The part that regenerates feels like it's on fire.

You’re also in love with two men. And they’re both in love with you. What better way to solve it than to just date each other? Yea, your life is a mess. But your boys make it worth it.

Whilst on the run from the government, Bucky, Steve and you became closer. One night you guys sat down together in the motel room you were currently staying in and opened up about your feelings.

You were inseparable since, and you loved each other deeply.

And then Thanos came to Earth.

You fought together in Wakanda along with other Avengers. You and Nat work in perfect harmony like before the Sokovia Accords, as if no time has passed at all.

“Duck!” Nat shouted at you, shooting at the creature coming behind you. “Thanks” you panted. You’ve been fighting for so long, when will this end? Your body was burning all over from scratches and wounds you were getting while fighting. You and Nat notice some of the Avengers entering the woods and went after them. When you got there you noticed Vision on the ground, and Wanda sitting motionless beside him. Thanos was no where to be seen. ”No” you whispered, “no no no Steve! Bucky!” you looked for your boys. You found them, frantically looking for you too. “Guys!” you called, and they look towards you. They seem relieved at first, but then there was a look of horror on their faces and suddenly your whole body was on fire.

It burned, so so bad. You fell to the ground, Screaming in pain. You watched as your body was dusting and regenerating over and over again feeling as if you’re burning alive. Bucky and Steve came rushing towards you, kneeling by both your sides. “Steve what do we do? How do we stop it??” Bucky asked, feeling so useless, and Steve looks at him and then back to your screaming figure. “Baby, look at me” he softly asked you. You stopped screaming, but kept sobbing loudly, and looked over at Steve, looking into his eyes, which were filled with tears. “Baby there’s only one way this stops” Steve whispers and Bucky looks back up at Steve. “No way in hell are we doing this Rogers There has to be another way, we can’t lose her!” Bucky panics. “We promised her, Buck.” Steve was choking on his words. “We promised that if her body regenerates itself without stopping, we stop it, for good.” Steve looks back at you for confirmation. “Please” you choked out, and then started sobbing “make it stop, please!”. Nat put her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Fuck!” Bucky shouted. Everything around him sounded far, the only thing he could hear was your screams, your pleads for help. “I love you,I love you so much baby” he told you. “We both do” Steve added. Bucky suddenly pulls out his hand gun, everything going silent, only your sobbing can be heard. “I Love you too” you choked.

Bang

Bucky shot where your brain was just regenerating itself. And then you were dusting off, for the last time. He fell to his knees, hands resting where you just were, his loud sobs replacing your screams. Steve not moving, silently staring off at nothing.

It’s been 5 years, Tony invented time travel and the avengers were each in a different time, Steve, Bucky and Tony currently at the army base looking for the scepter and Pim particles. Steve was in an office, Bucky guarding the door. “What’s taking you so long??” he loudly whispers at Steve, and when he doesn't respond Bucky looks over, watching Steve silently staring through a window at his former lover, Peggy Carter. “Don’t you even think about it” he told Steve, grabbing him by the shoulder and yanking him out of the office, dragging him out of the facilty. “What did you think i was gonna do? Go over and say hi? What do you take me as?” “a dumbass” Bucky said. Steve pulled himself from Bucky’s grasp and stopped in his place. “What is this about?” Steve demanded. Bucky stopped and took a deep breath, “we’re in the middle of trying to get everyone back and you stop to look at Peggy? She moved on, and I thought you did too” he harshly said. “Oh, this isn't about the mission. This is about Y\N.” Steve said, “I've done my grieving, and it’s not my fault you’re still in the denial phase.” Bucky huffed, “screw this, I'm going back, if you want to stay and live in your little fairy tale you can go ahead and do it, but if... When Y\N comes back she’ll be heartbroken. Devastated. And that’ll be on you.” Bucky snatched the stone from Steve and went on his way, leaving Steve to think about what he just said.

“Where’s the other icicle?” Tony asked when he saw Bucky approaching with the scepter. Bucky just shrugged his shoulder, and a second later Steve came up running, “hey. We ready?” he asked Tony, not looking over at Bucky. “Let’s do this.”

Steve and Bucky have drifted apart after their loss in Wakanda. Bucky went back to his little hut and was never able to get over what he did. He shot you, right in the head. He was barely able to live with that. Steve on the other side dealt with the grief healthily, having Nat grieve with him at the avengers compound. He accepted the fact you were gone, and moved on. They both still loved you just as much as they did before you dusted, but they both also grieved very differently.

You woke up in the woods of Wakanda. “What the hell?” you groaned. Looking around you saw Wanda running towards you. “There you are! Come on, we have a fight to finish!”

When you were stepping out of the portal, the first thing you were looking for was Bucky and Steve. And there Steve was- holding Mjolnir?? Damn. and then you heard him shout: “Avengers!... assemble” and everyone was running towards Thanos’ army. The fight was hard, a lot harder than the one in Wakanda, but what kept you fighting was seeing Steve and Bucky after all of this ends. “Duck!” you heard a familiar voice shouting, and as you did you looked towards the voice, and there he was, your Bucky. You run towards each other, and you jump at him hugging him tightly, him returning the hug. “Fuck Y\N I missed you” he said. And suddenly there were explosions, Thanos’ ship shooting everywhere, and you were inevitably separated.

After Carol Danvers showed up and wrecked the ships, the fight continued and suddenly you were almost hit by a flying hammer. Looking over to where it was flying towards you see Steve, and Steve see’s you. He takes a few large strides and engulfed you in his arms, kissing you passionately, but he quickly pulls away. Looking into each other’s eyes, you see in his eyes disappointment and confusion. Then he looks up and his face shows pure shock. You look behind you and watch as Tony snaps his fingers. Looking around you watch as Thanos’ army dusts away, and Thanos too. You look over at Steve and he kneels. You do as him and so do all of the avengers, Tony Stark, the ‘selfish’ billionaire just sacrificed himself for the whole universe.

After Tony’s funeral you couldn't find Steve, but you assumed he was just getting ready for his mission to bring back the stones. Finding Bucky standing near a bench, you hug him from behind you, he tenses for a second and immediately relaxes back. “Hey you” you whisper, going around to face him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you closer from your waist, “hey yourself” you stand on your toes and kiss him, and every kiss since you came back felt amazing. You pulled back with a frown. “What’s wrong?” Bucky asked. “Is Steve ok?” you ask him, “he hasn't been showing any affection since that weird kiss out on the field and he’s definitely avoiding me.” Bucky sighs, “I'm not sure, doll”. You looked behind Bucky, finding Steve watching the both of you with a smile, his time travel suit on. ‘You have each other’ he thinks.

You hug Steve tight and give him a kiss on the cheek, “come back quick ok?” “of course” he says. He gives Bucky a nod, receiving one back, and goes on his way. But they didn't manage to bring him back. You and Sam were panicking along with Bruce, until Bucky called, “guys”.

You all looked towards where Bucky was looking, seeing a gray set of hair, sitting on a bench. Sam went over to the old guy, smiling at him, and the confirmation of the old man’s identity was when he handed the shield over to Sam. you instantly understood what happened. He stayed back, with Peggy. You then looked over at Bucky, who was already watching you, ready for any kind of angry reaction. What he wasn’t ready for though, was when you went up to Steve, stood in front of him and said nothing. You just stared at each other. And then you hugged him. “I know you’re angry at me for leaving but-” Steve started but you cat him off “I'm not angry at you for leaving Steve i’m angry at you for not telling me you were leaving me.” you huffed, “did all we went through together mean nothing to you? Could you not have at least prepared me? Because ignoring and avoiding me isn’t it.” “I’m sorry, doll.” was all he said. You held back your tears, you could do that later, and sat beside him, “tell me about her”.

You and Bucky went back to the compound with the other avengers that night, and Bucky hasn’t spoken to you since the lake. When you found him hunched over a cup of tea in the kitchen you confronted him. “Bucky, we need to talk” you said and he sighed, “I know” “you do?” you asked. “Yea. Steve left so now there’s no ‘us’ anymore.” he said. “What? That's not it at all” you said as you sat down next to him, but Bucky wouldn’t look at you. “Baby, my love for you doesn’t depend on Steve being here, I love you regardless.” you kept trying to catch his eyes. “No.” he said, “ If not for that then for what I did to you back… back in Wakanda.” your brows furrowed in confusion “what…?” Bucky sighed loudly, “doll, I.. I shot you. You were gone because of me.” the dam broke. Bucky stood up abruptly, “How can you even stand being with me in the same room?” he asks, and you stand up and grab his face, “Bucky Barnes, you dumb ass, Thanos is the reason I was gone! You’re the reason I wasn't suffering anymore! I can’t even begin to describe the pain I was feeling, Buck. You promised me you would kill me if I was ever in that situation and you’ve kept your promise. I couldn’t thank you enough for that. You saved me.” both of you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

One of the reasons Bucky couldn’t deal with the grieving properly was that he convinced himself you were gone because of him. But now he knew he saved you from the torture of being on fire.

#steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #captain america #angst #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #bucky barnes angst #marvel fic #marvel #infinity war #endgame

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doomedandstoned · 4 years

Text

The End Is Nigh: A Conversation With OFFICIUM TRISTE Frontman Pim Blankenstein

~By Shawn Gibson~

I was first introduced to OFFICIUM TRISTE when Mors Viri came out in 2013 and I have been a fan ever since! At the time, I had a radio show and got an email from HammerHeart Records with promo and played some songs off of that album.

The Dutch band's music has also pushed me through tough times, mentally and emotionally. There is sadness in their songs, as there is great beauty. Each song has its own dynamic sound with piano, organs, violins, cellos, etc. Officium Triste's albums are heavy as mountains, but have parts within that soar like eagles!

Recently, I had the privilege of longtime singer Pim Blankenstein, who has been with the band since 1994.

Mors Viri by Officium Triste

Officium Triste has been making music since 1994! How does that feel to be with this band now and the current state of affairs?

It feels as exciting as it was when we started out. Of course, a lot has changed in 25 years, but for us as a band our values are still the same. We love slow, heavy and melodic music and we still write this kind of music. Over the years we of course have grown as a band and you keep learning. After the last couple of line-up changes I totally feel this is the best line-up we've had. We're all on the same page and actually things couldn't be better.

What does the name Officium Triste mean?

If you put it in Google translate, it says it means the baleful. Back when we started out our then guitarist Johan Kwakernaak came up with the name, which he got from a Latin dictionary. The combination of words means something like a "sad gathering," such as a funeral.

You are from the Netherlands right? What are some other bands from the Netherlands you guys love?

Yeah, we are from the Netherlands and when we started out there were quite some doom bands we dug like early The Gathering, Celestial Season, Castle or Beyond Belief. Having said that, the doom scene never was that big but we always had killer bands. Just think of Deinonychus or newer acts like Facade, Treurwilg or Beyond Our Ruins.

In other genres we have (and had) great bands, too. Death metal was especially huge. Pestilence, Pentacle, Asphyx, Sinister, Thanatos, Severe Torture, Bodyfarm, Gorefest. I could go on and on. Bottomline is that the Dutch scene always has been and still is great. We know quite a lot of bands personally and we get along real fine.

We are all Doomed! Are you Stoned?

Nope. Used to smoke a lot. Not anymore though. But that doesn't change the fact we indeed are doomed!

The Death of Gaia (Atmospheric Death/Doom Metal) by OFFICIUM TRISTE (Netherlands)

Your latest album 'The Death Of Gaia' came out December 13 2019. What has influenced the writing of this album?

As far as the music is concerned, our core values are still present, which is writing slow, heavy, melodic and melancholic music. I like to say we are still inspired by the bands that showed us the way in the '90s, like Paradise Lost, Anathema, Katatonia or Type O Negative. Along the way, also a band such as Shape Of Despair inspired a bit but also film scores, shoegaze or dream pop.

Lyrics are about subjects such as the decline of our planet, loneliness, insomnia, guilt, and stuff like that -- basically what is happening around us. So the reality of life inspired us in that department.

Throughout the years of your albums there is always great range and depth of song with varied instruments. Are there any instruments you haven't used yet, but would love to include in a song?

From a personal perspective, I'd like to include some percussive elements. I can totally imagine us using some proper timpani for that ultimate heavy sound.

Who did the artwork for 'The Death Of Gaia'?

When we figured out we wanted something different as artwork on this album and moved away from our earlier art, we got in touch with Chris Smith of Grey Aria Design from the US. We liked what he had done for Solstice from the UK and we really wanted that Art Nouveau-type art. Chris totally delivered what we were after.

Art by Chris Smith/Grey Aria Design

What makes you guys laugh?

We actually laugh a lot. We get along really well and joke around a lot making fun of each other. Other than that we are totally into dark, sarcastic humour. Or stand-up comedians like Steve Hughes of Jim Jefferies. Writers like Bukowski or Brusselmans (a Belgian writer). Ren & Stimpy, Pinky & The Brain, Invader Zim. There's plenty of stuff that makes us laugh.

What has been an awkward moment for Officium Triste?

Probably being too drunk on stage in our early years could be considered as awkward. Other than that, not much. Maybe some awkward moments on behalf of our previous bass player, but I won't get into details on that because it's better to let that rest.

You have a long history of making death doom and are in the same boat as other established bands such as My Dying Bride, Katatonia, Paradise Lost. What is in the future for Officium Triste? Will there be another 25 years?

Well, we take it as it is. Our current label Transcending Obscurity is quite happy with us it seems and has been asking if we want to do another album for them. We are gathering new song ideas as we speak, so you can expect another album in the future. Not sure if we'll last another 25 years, as we will be considered as elderly people by then. As long as we're having fun we keep doing what we like to do.

Who is in the band Officium Triste and what do they do in the band?

Right now it is the founding members Martin Kwakernaak on keyboards. He used to be our drummer, too. Gerard de Jong on lead guitars and I (Pim Blankenstein) on vocals. We have Niels Jordaan on drums, William van Dijk on rhythm guitars and Theo Plaisier on bass.

With the varied sounds in your music do you have several session players to record? Sometimes it sounds like you have a symphony accompanying your music!

Actually, this time around we used some session musicians. We decided to record some real string instruments, as opposed to using the sounds from the keyboard, so we asked Chris Davies to record violins. We knew Chris from Eye Of Solitude where he used to play bass and he played violins with Clouds, in which I am involved, too, in a way. He did a great job. On cello we asked Eliane Anemaat. She is quite known for her work with bands, such as Celestial Season, Mayan or Delain. She also did an outstanding job.

What are some bands from the beginning that have influenced Officium Triste? Who are some current bands that catch your attention?

I more or less mentioned some bands in an earlier answer, but we initially were heavily influenced by Paradise Lost, Anathema, Celestial Season, My Dying Bride, Katatonia, and Type O Negative. But also Metallica, Edge Of Sanity, Dismember or Winter influenced us to some extent. Later on, also bands such as Evoken, Mournful Congregation or Shape Of Despair impressed us. Currently, there's not a lot of bands that caught our attention and actually had an impact on us, but we do like bands that mix things up like what In Solitude, Tribulation, Alcest or Chapel Of Disease are doing, to name just a couple.

Film by Buzau Live Music

Beyond doom and death, what other music styles do you like and listen to?

We listen to quite a lot of varied stuff. Like heavy metal, classic rock, shoegaze, indie rock, new wave, movie scores, retro wave. As long as it is good music we listen to it.

Will you ever tour in the states?

Hopefully. If we ever get a proper invitation and stuff is sorted out, well we definitely would like to come. We are crossing the Atlantic in a couple of months to play a one-off in Mexico.

For me, I have felt positive things from the lyrics and the heavy music amidst the doom. I guess its nice to be able to relate to songs and feel the music with your soul. The balance of heavy and almost symphonic and atmospheric music still blows my mind! Officium Triste is one of very few with clean vocals accompanying death growls I love. Most clean vocals fuck me up.

Cheers for that!

"Burning all Boats and Bridges" is my jam! Fuck it all and starting clean! My life has to take another turn! A fresh start is what I yearn for! Please tell me a little about this song.

Actually, this song is basically the only one where we could use music provided by our previous bass player. But since he fucked things up I have a hard time listening to this particular track. I did write the lyrics, though, and I usually start with a song title. I'm not sure where I got it from, but the lyrics are about having a fresh start and cut all ties with your past. It's not something that happened to any of us personally. But I guess everyone can relate to the subject, so I wrote lyrics about this.

"The End Is Nigh." Do you think this song is relevant to current world events?

That's what inspired it. But to be honest, this world has been a shithole for centuries. So, when I wrote the lyrics I did think about the current state of affairs, as well as stuff from the past. I think everyone can decide for themselves what we talk about, whether it is politics, the environment or overpopulation. It all goes hand in hand, in a way. For the lyrics, I took the Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse as a metaphor. And the second song on the album World In Flames continues with the subject.

Pim, thank you very much for your time! It is a pleasure and an honor!

Thank you, Shawn, for the interview. Much appreciated. Hope your readers will check us out if they haven't done so yet.

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#D&S Interviews #Officium Triste #Rotterdam #The Netherlands #Doom #Metal #Doom Metal #sludge #death doom #blackened doom #Shawn Gibson #Doomed & Stoned

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burning-up-ao3 · 6 years

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Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's From the Point

Jake Guentzel had just worked up a sweat at Tuesday’s morning skate and was presumably daydreaming about his lunch when the winger, in all his gear, stomped into the locker room at PPG Paints Arena. When he turned the corner, he couldn’t even see his locker stall.

Sidney Crosby was talking that day. And with the Steelers not making the playoffs this year, there were a bunch of TV cameras eager to record the NHL superstar’s every word.

Guentzel sighed, perhaps at himself for not timing his exit from the ice better, then plopped down a couple of spots away from his stall and waited for the mob to move on so he could take off his sweaty gear, grab a shower and start gearing up for that night’s game.

“I try to watch when he goes off [the ice] sometimes or I try to beat him off,” he said, “so I can get a head start. It just kind of comes with the territory of sitting next to him.”

As he unlaced his skates, I asked him about the pros and cons of sitting next to Sid.

Since making his Penguins debut a couple of years ago, Guentzel has gotten dressed next to Crosby in the locker rooms at PPG Paints Arena and their practice facility in Cranberry, which are intentionally identical or close to it. They are neighbors on the road, too.

Wherever the Penguins are, Crosby is always in big demand. He talks to the media on most days, though there are days when reporters and cameramen surround his stall, only to eventually realize his gear is hanging there and he’s already ducked out of the locker room.

On days he talks, Crosby, one of the most accessible superstars in all of professional sports, often thoughtfully answers questions for five or six minutes about the Penguins, league issues, rising stars, pretty much whatever. He can draw a crowd of a few dozen.

So unless Guentzel or Riley Sheahan, who sits one spot to Crosby’s right, feels like throwing a body check, those two aren’t getting anywhere near their stall until he’s done.

“Cons? I don’t think there’s much other than the media scrums,” Sheahan said.

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Photo via Peter Diana, Post-Gazette

Well, except for maybe Sid’s many superstitions, some of which are documented.

Crosby is said to eat PB&J sandwiches before every game and walk the same path into the locker room. His sister, Taylor, has said he won’t talk to her before games because she’s bad luck. He always stickhandles through the McDonald's logo during warm-ups.

When the guys are gearing up, you can bet that Crosby is at least, to quote Michael Scott from "The Office," a little 'stitious.

For example, Crosby does not let anyone touch his sticks, intentionally or not. Guentzel was warned about that when the Penguins first called him up and sat him next to Crosby.

“You hear about his superstitions before [making the team],” Guentzel said with a grin. “My first game, I’m sitting on the far end of my seat, just trying to not get in his way.”

Sheahan added: “It’s hard because he has quite a few of them. You just try to stay in your own stall and keep your possessions in your own stall. If you do that, you’ll be fine.”

But both guys say that despite Crosby’s quirks, he’s a good guy to sit next to.

“Everybody is geared up before the game,” Sheahan said. “But for the most part, he’s pretty laid back, pretty easy to talk to. It’s always fun being around him. He likes to joke around.”

And before and during games, with his Hall-of-Fame hockey IQ, he’s a great resource.

“Just for me as a linemate, playing with him, we can communicate before the game and during the game and whatnot,” Guentzel said. “I think we use it as an advantage.”

Sheahan echoed Guentzel’s sentiments. After the Penguins acquired him in a trade early in the 2017-18 season, Sheahan was seated next to Crosby. It helped him with his transition to Pittsburgh because he could pick Crosby’s brain about the Penguins’ system.

Today, despite the hassle of having to wait for reporters to stop pestering Crosby, Sheahan said getting dressed next to him is a rewarding experience.

“You see how disciplined he is. He’s already up there with the all-time best players, and he’s always doing little things off the ice,” he said. “So to see it up close, it’s pretty cool.”

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Photo via Peter Diana, Post-Gazette

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED

1. The Penguins had an eventful first half.

2. Patric Hornqvist got another concussion.

3. Zach Aston-Reese may be out for a while.

4. Injured Justin Schultz is back on the ice.

5. The Penguins probably won't make any major moves between now and next month's NHL trade deadline.

6. Phil Kessel "tries hard, plays every game."

7. Marcus Pettersson already feels at home.

8. I need to get into shape, so I asked a few Penguins about their battles to maintain their playing weight.

THREE STARS OF THE PAST WEEK

3. Matt Cullen. The 42-year-old had a goal and an assist in the win over the Jets. Then, on the team's 70s-themed night at PPG Paints Arena, the only Penguin born in the 1970s made a nice play to set up Bryan Rust. Cullen has 11 points on the season and is a plus-4.

2. Marcus Pettersson. The young defenseman had four assists in three games and posted a plus-6 rating. He even dropped the gloves the other night, though he kind of looked like one of those tall tube guys flapping in the breeze outside of a car dealership.

1. Matt Murray. The NHL's hottest goalie (pictured below) won both starts last week, allowing only one goal on 70 shots. Tuesday's 5-1 win over the Panthers was his eighth in eight starts since being activated from injured reserve. That streak ties his career high.

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Photo via Peter Diana, Post-Gazette

PENGUINS LEADERS

Goals: 20, Crosby

Assists: 33, Crosby

Points: 53, Crosby

+/-: +27, Brian Dumoulin

PIMs: 44, Evgeni Malkin

Save %: .924, Casey DeSmith

Wins: 12, DeSmith and Matt Murray

IT’S A GREAT WEEK FOR HOCKEY

Friday @ 10 p.m.: Penguins at Ducks at Honda Center. The Penguins lost this battle of the birds a few weeks ago back in the Burgh. Whitehall's John Gibson, one of the strongest Vezina contenders at the midway point of the season, stopped 28 of 30 to get that 4-2 win.

Saturday @ 10 p.m.: Penguins at Kings at Staples Center. This should be an emotional one. The Penguins will face playoff hero Carl Hagelin for the first time since he was traded to the Kings for Tanner Pearson. Hagelin (pictured below) was out with an injury when the Penguins beat the Kings

#pittsburgh penguins #jake guentzel #pittsburgh post gazette #Matt Vensel

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milfmacbeth · 2 years

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would you also like to share top ten (or however many) songs that have rewired the good ol brain chemistry~?

YES I WOULD I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED MY BELOVED MUTUAL!!!

(in reference to this post)

i tried to keep this short (lol) but here’s a list of songs roughly in order of how insane they make me

bo burnham - all eyes on me

this is the undisputed number one. this song gave me an existential crisis. this song gave me a hug. this song stabbed me in the gut and then gave me a kiss on the forehead. this song gently cradled my face and told me there’s nothing left to save. you’d think that after the billionth time hearing: you say the ocean’s rising, like i give a shit. you say the whole world’s ending, honey, it already did. you’re not gonna slow it, heaven knows you tried. got it? good. now get inside would lose its impact but i feel like i need to go lie down on the floor and remember how to be a person every time i listen to it, which is often.

(i thought ‘can’t handle this’ fucked me up, and it did. ‘all eyes on me’ is ‘can’t handle this’ but more)

the mountain goats - no children

I AM DROWNING. THERE IS NO SIGN OF LAND. YOU ARE COMING DOWN WITH ME, HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND. AND I HOPE YOU DIE. I HOPE WE BOTH DIE.

goddddd. the rage. the love. the ‘fuck everyone who isn’t us’. the ‘i will drag you to hell with me because i can’t bear to let go of your hand’. this song violently pulled me off all my hinges. (not to mention it’s the sexiest character dynamic which places no children on like half of my playlists.)

the amazing devil

literally all of their discography. all of it.

the quiet misery of it’s daylight again and you look like i’ve failed you, the defiance in the face of everything of i promise you i’m not broken, the power of our voices collide with each howl of the tide singing all hell and its fire waits for us, the feral whispered rip my rib cage open and devour what’s truly yours, the tired rage of and i walk, knowing every last one of them is painted in light as i make myself acquainted with the saint of never getting it right, the just @ me next time of all my steps too far keep telling me “this is who you are”. i should go home. i’m not lonely, i just like being on my own

they’re so poetic and wild and real and i am so bisexual about them

pim stones - we have it all

we have it all is this haunting melody about selling your soul to the devil and regretting it and it is one of like 2 songs pim stones has released and i would kill for pim stones to release an entire album

slipknot - snuff

i’m not as big of a metalhead as i used to be but slipknot remains a top favourite. slipknot doesn’t do bad albums but ‘all hope is gone’ is special to me and to this day hearing i only wish you weren’t my friend, so i could hurt you in the end makes me feel like an eagle is pecking at my liver

also corey taylor is probably my favourite singer because hhhnnnnggg voice

the spiritual machines - don’t fear the reaper (cover of blue öyster cult)

i like the original but this slower, more cinematic version is everything. the piano at the beginning transitioning into all our times have come and the song picking up speed halfway through is just so *chef’s kiss*

linkin park - shadow of the day & leave out all the rest

i know all the lyrics to every linkin park song i spent my high school years going insane about them and i still love them

daughter - smother & shallows

the entire album is a masterpiece but in the darkness i will meet my creators. and they will all agree that i’m a suffocator and let it all rain down, from the blood-stained clouds. oh come out, come out to the sea my love and just drown with me hit entirely different

hans zimmer - the kraken & what shall we die for

i watched pirates of the caribbean when i was like 12 and i haven’t been normal since. no movie soundtrack goes as hard as this one.

explosions in the sky - your hand in mine

8 minute long instrumental song. this is what i imagine love sounds like.

my chemical romance

all of their stuff but particularly disenchanted (you’re just a sad song with nothing to say), thank you for the venom (give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill. you’re running after something that you’ll never kill), the end (when i grow up i want to be nothing at all), and the light behind your eyes (so long to all my friends. every one of them met tragic ends)

simon and garfunkel - the sound of silence

i know it’s been memed into oblivion. i don’t care. it’s one of the most songs ever.

kansas - carry on wayward son

do i really need to explain this one? i watched supernatural in its entirety. i’ve been on this hellsite for years. i cannot listen to this song without taking psychic damage but fuck if it isn’t an absolute banger

poppy - meat honestly i’m not even sure why i put this here it’s so not what i usually go for but it’s like nothing else i’ve ever heard. this song has a story and requires a content warning for… everything. (it's about aliens farming humans for meat). it’s genuinely disturbing. i discovered it while making playlists for the magnus archives entities and it just stuck in my brain and wouldn’t leave.

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emjenenla · 7 years

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If You’re Gone, Maybe It’s Time to Come Home Part Three [a SoC Fanfiction]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Sorry for the outrageous amount of time this update took. College eats up all your time. Also, it turns out Kaz in this mental state is ridiculously hard to write in another character’s POV.

Part Three

(Inej)

(1)

The Van Eck mansion is full to the brim of members of the Dregs. The irony is thick because a year ago, such people would never have been allowed on the same street.

Inej threads her way through the drinking gang members. They’re laughing and sharing stories. They’ve all been told that the party is to celebrate the Dregs’ rise to prominence as the most powerful gang in Ketterdam; only the Crows and a few extremely trusted others know that the party is actually in honor of Inej’s successes hunting slavers.

Even though the building is full of people, it still feels empty to Inej. The only Crows there aside from her are Jesper and Wylan. Kaz hasn’t yet appeared, and Matthias’s death still weighs heavily on her, not to mention the fact that it has caused Nina to drop off the face of the world. Inej has no idea where her friend is and no one has heard from her in months.

Inej has tried everything to find Nina, even picking Kaz’s brain in their coded letters (if anyone knows where Nina is, it’s him). However, it’s been months since Kaz mentioned anything even semi-personal in his letters. They were always impersonal, but since her last visit to Ketterdam, he hasn’t bothered to do anything but send her lists of information. She’s starting to think he’s still sulking about the talking-to she gave him the last time they saw each other. That bothers her, because while Kaz is totally capable of holding a grudge for a couple months (after all, he managed to hold one on Pekka Rollins for years), he’s never stayed mad at her for this long before.

(2)

It’s at least ten bells when she finally admits that she’s worried. This isn’t like Kaz. She’d thought that he’d at least show his face, even if that was only because Jesper and Wylan or Anika and Keeg dragged him along.

She eventually seeks out Anika who is sitting at a table playing a good-natured card game with Pim, Keeg, Dirix and Roeder while Rotty and a couple other high-ranking Dregs look on. They all look up when Inej steps up.

“’Lo, Wraith,” Dirix says. “Welcome back. You staying for good this time?”

“Please don’t,” Roeder says with a good-natured smile to show he’s joking. “I like my job, and I don’t want you to steal it back.”

“No, I’m not staying,” Inej says. “Just stopping by for a visit. If you enjoy scrambling over every dirty, smelly crevasse of this city doing Kaz’s bidding, you’re more than welcome to it.” The instant the words come out of her mouth she feels guilty; she had never minded being Kaz’s spider, even when he was in a mood.

Still the Dregs laugh. They are all high enough in the ranks to have personally dealt with Kaz enough to know just how frustrating putting up with his opaque orders and unfathomable schemes could be.

When the laughter dies Inej moves on to the real reason she came over by them. “Where is Kaz by the way? I know he doesn’t like parties, but I haven’t seen him at all since I got back.”

The table goes silent. The Dregs look back and forth at each other like they’re trying to decide who should be the bearer of bad news. Inej’s stomach clenches with a familiar sense of apprehension, one that she’s been getting when she reads Kaz’s letters for months. It’s a subtle hint that something isn’t right, but she can’t for the life of her figure out what it is.

After a moment, Anika pushes back her chair and gives her cards to Rotty. “If you make me lose, I’ll end you,” she threatens, then stands up. “Come on, Ghafa,” she says in what Inej can only assume is her lieutenant’s voice. “Let’s have a chat.”

(3)

They step out into the hallway and Anika paces to the end to look out at the garden, arms crossed.

“Anika,” Inej ventures stepping up alongside her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Kaz?”

“I don’t know,” Anika says, slowly and precisely, like saying each word hurts.

“What do you mean?” Inej asks.

“He’s missing,” Anika says. “No one’s seen him in days.”

“What?” Inej can’t help it, she yells. “Why aren’t you looking for him?”

“We are!” Anika’s voice raises too. “But Ketterdam’s a big place and we don’t know where half his boltholes are. To be honest, he could still be holed up in his rooms in the Slat since no one actually saw him leave. No one answers when we knock, but the door’s locked, like, really locked.” She gives Inej a significant look.

Inej nods. Kaz has more locks on his door than any person should ever need, but he rarely uses all of them because several can only be locked and unlocked from the inside. He wouldn’t have gone through that much trouble if he was just going out. “Have you tried the windows?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Anika says. “We sent Mina up the morning after we lost track of him. The windows are all locked. To make matters worse, each one’s fitted with multiple Schuyler locks. Aside from Kaz there’s only a handful of people in the gang who can pick those, and none of them are capable of getting up on that roof without killing themselves.”

Inej bites her lip. She doesn’t know what to say. This doesn’t sound like Kaz at all. She tries to decide how likely it is that he just found an intriguing job and doesn’t like the odds. “Do you think he’s on a job?”

Anika growls low in the back of her throat, and Inej looks at her. “What?”

“You haven’t been around these past couple months, Ghafa,” Anika says. “Something’s not right with him. Hasn’t been in months, but it’s gotten worse since the last time you were here. I don’t know what kind of lover’s squabble the two of you had, but while you’ve been out there gallivanting around the ocean, we’ve been here dealing with him.”

Inej opens her mouth to protest that she’s doing a lot more than gallivanting, but stops herself because she’s not sure if Anika’s on the list of people who have been trusted with the true nature of her mission.

“Pim and I are basically running the Dregs,” Anika admits, calming down. “Brekker barely does anything anymore. I don’t think he’s realized we’ve noticed, though I’m not sure how that’s possible. He’s not very aware of anything. He spends a lot of time just staring blankly off into space. He’s not scheming, but I can’t figure out what he’s actually thinking about.”

Inej doesn’t know what to say. The idea of Kaz not pulling his own weight and leading the gang he bled for for so long is ludicrous. She can’t wrap her mind around it.

“So far, only the inner circle knows exactly how bad it is,” Anika says. She sounds exhausted. “That means me, Pim, Keeg, Dirix, Rotty, Roeder and Mina. We’re trying to keep it from going farther than that, but we’re running out of time. There are low-ranking members of the Dregs who are personally loyal to Kaz, but the majority of them are only loyal to the idea of him—of Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel. When they figure out what’s going on…”

She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to. Inej knows the Barrel well enough to know what Anika was going to say. If word gets out that Kaz is weak the very gang that has followed him so ravenously will turn on him just like they turned on Per Haskell. If that happens, Kaz will be lucky to escape with his life.

The thought is terrifying.

“What happened before he went missing?” Inej asks Anika, trying to push the conversation away from the horrible idea of Kaz’s possibly imminent fall.

Anika sighs. “You’d do best to ask Espen that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hard to say,” Anika says. “All I know is that the night we lost track of the boss, he was supposed to go out to do some scouting with the spiders. He didn’t show up for hours. Roeder and Mina were just going to go without him, but Espen got angry and stalked upstairs. After a couple minutes he came down and said that-” she cuts herself off. “You know, you probably should talk to Espen about that, I’m not even sure I understand what went on.”

(5)

It takes Inej the better part of an hour to located Espen in the swirling mass of humanity in the Van Eck house. She’s just starting to wonder if he left without telling anyone when she runs into Mina. The young spider is more than happy to point her in Espen’s direction.

“I saw him over by the food,” she says. “Sulking probably; he hates parties.”

Inej threads through the crowd to the location specified. Espen is seated on a couch, crushed between the arm and a couple older members of the Dregs. He is clutching a plate of hors d'oeuvres and looks murderous, but he’s still there. If Kaz had been in his position, he’d have broken someone’s jaw and fled upstairs where there are less people by now.

Espen doesn’t notice her approach him, and Inej makes a mental note to tell Kaz to teach his spiders to be more observant. She waltzes up to Espen and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

He glares at her, overgrown mop of straw-colored hair falling into his angry blue eyes. Sometimes Inej looks at him and thinks that this must have been what Kaz had been like at age eleven, but other times she thinks that Kaz and Espen are only superficially alike. There is something almost theatrical about Espen’s anger, like he’s playing a part or seeking attention. She can’t imagine careful, calculating, brilliant Kaz ever acting like that.

“Wha’ do you want?” Espen asks in a low, gruff voice that might be a poor attempt at mimicking Kaz’s rasp.

“Just a chat,” Inej says and beckons with a finger. “Let’s go someplace quieter.”

(5)

She leads him into an upstairs parlor and locks the door behind them. He stands in the middle of the room, his arms crossed. “I’m waiting,” he says.

Inej rolls her eyes. “Drop the act. You’re not a hotshot. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m one of Kaz Brekker’s trusted spiders,” Espen says puffing his chest out. “I am one of the most important members of the Dregs.”

“Yes, and I’m the Wraith,” Inej says. “Do we really want to start throwing titles and accomplishments around?”

Espen visibly deflates. He either didn’t recognize her (which doesn’t make sense because she’s given him and the other spiders some tips during her visits in Ketterdam) or he was hoping she wouldn’t call him out on his bravado (much more likely). “What do you want?” he asks.

“Anika said that you and Kaz got in a fight a couple days ago,” Inej says.

“Yeah,” Espen says. “Happens all the time. Why does it matter?” There’s now something cagey about his body language. He’d rather not be talking about this.

“Why don’t you tell me about it,” Inej suggests, using the gentle, soothing voice she’s cultivated to put rescued slaves at ease.

She expects Espen to argue, but he grasps onto her offer to listen almost frantically. Whatever happened between him and Kaz has been weighing on his mind and he desperately wants to talk about it.

“I’m not a spider anymore,” he says.

That was not how she expected him to begin this conversation. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“I got fired,” Espen says, his voice is angry, but matter-of-fact in the way that only Barrel rats seem to be able to manage. As if bad things are something to be expected and taken when they come. “After the argument. Boss says he doesn’t want to see me ever again.”

That is odd. Inej has never known Kaz to tell someone he never wants to see them again. Loathe as she is to admit it, normally when he gets to that point he simply kills the person in question to ensure he doesn’t have to deal with them anymore. “What happened?” she asks slowly.

Espen shrugs, evasive anger back again. “I dunno. Brekker’s been really stupid lately.”

That sets off even more alarms in Inej’s head. She has never, ever heard the word “stupid” used in the same sentence as “Kaz Brekker.” “What do you mean?” she asks cautiously.

For a second Espen looks confused then nervous. “If Anika didn’t say anything, then maybe I shouldn’t-”

“Tell me,” Inej presses, shoving away the hurt at the idea that Anika might be keeping things from her. She and Anika aren’t exactly friends, but they’re not enemies either. Plus, Anika holds a position in the Dregs similar to the one that Kaz did when Haskell was general (albeit, with much less actual power). Of all the members of the Dregs, she’s the closest to Kaz and might be the only one who has a firm grasp on how serious Inej’s relationship with Kaz is. “Kaz is my friend,” she continues ignoring the voice that screams that she and Kaz are way past the “just friends” point. “If there’s something going on with him; I need to know about it.”

Espen sighs then relents and begins his story. Inej listens with growing shock as he relates his confrontation with Kaz. She recognizes the Kaz’s behavior because she has seen them in people she rescues from slavers. She has seen people who lash out at every perceived threat, who see such behavior as the only way to protect themselves from a world that has turned its back on them. She has just never applied them to Kaz.

“I don’t know what was wrong with him,” Espen finishes looking confused. “Is he sick?”

“He’ll be fine,” Inej says because she doesn’t feel like trying to explain trauma to a Barrel kid who has been raised in a community that refuses to acknowledge anything but strength. “Do you know where he went after your argument?”

Espen shrugs. “Dunno. I didn’t see him go anywhere.”

“Okay,” Inej says taking a deep breath in an effort to contain her thoughts. “Thank you.”

(6)

She approaches the Slat the way she always has; by the roofs. She isn’t sure that she truly believes Kaz will be there, but she isn’t sure where else to start so she decides to take her chances.

The window she always entered Kaz’s room through, the window she often sat in feeding the crows, is closed with a dark curtain pulled down behind it. It takes her upwards of twenty minutes to figure out how to pick the Schuyler locks, but when she finally does she pulls the window open, pushes aside the curtain and steps inside.

The room is dark and cluttered which is strange because for all his money Kaz owns very little and keeps what he does in impeccable order. Now there are clothes and weapons strewn across the floor. As Inej steps inside she accidently steps on a sheet of paper that is scrawled over on both sides in Kaz’s handwriting. A number of other sheets of paper are spread across the rest of the floor like someone threw them.

She’s just reaching the conclusion that someone must have broken into Kaz’s room and ransacked it when she realizes the room is not empty. There’s a teenage boy-sized lump in the bed and on closer investigation she realizes it’s Kaz.

She knows that Kaz sleeps on his side, curled into the fetal position with his back pressed up against the nearest wall, but she has never seen him take it quite this far. He’s curled up so tightly that he’s almost in a legitimate ball. She knows that’s bad for his leg; he’ll be lucky if he can stand let alone walk when he gets up. His coal gray blanket is pulled up so that only his hair is visible. He isn’t using a pillow and after a second she realizes that’s because he’s clutching it to his chest like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning in a stormy ocean.

“Kaz?” she asks her voice nervous. “Kaz.” He doesn’t stir so she crosses the room trying to step around the papers incase they’re important. When she reaches his side, she kneels down next to him. “Kaz.” She says a little louder, reaching out and pulling the blanket away from his face, careful not to touch any skin. “Kaz, wake up.”

He shifts slightly, but doesn’t straighten or release his death grip on the pillow. One eye cracks open just slightly then closes again and he buries his face in the pillow.

“Kaz,” she repeats. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

He moves again, just slightly and mutters something, but the words are rendered incomprehensible by the pillow.

“Kaz!” her voice is rising panic now, she grasps his blanket-covered shoulder and shakes him. “Look at me!”

(7)

As always, the physical contact gets a response from him. He bats her hands away with a motion that is a little more haphazard than it usually would be. His eyes open and he looks at her like he can’t decide if she’s actually there. “Inej?” he asks after a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Inej says. “Why aren’t you at Jesper and Wylan’s party?”

Kaz looks away. “I’m not going,” he says.

“Yes, I’d kind of figured that out,” she says perhaps a bit sharper than she intended to. She takes a deep breath and changes her tone before she goes on. “Are you still angry at me for the last time I was here?” he doesn’t say anything so she pushes onward. “Anika said you’ve been missing for a couple days. Are you okay?”

No answer.

“Kaz,” she presses. “Are you okay?”

Still no answer. He won’t even look at her.

“Kaz!” she shouts. He jumps which might have actually been funny under different circumstances. “Enough of this. Are You Okay?” She isn’t even sure why she’s continuing on this line of questioning when he pretty obviously not okay and she knows that if she does convince him to talk he’ll just lie. Perhaps she just wants the reassurance of knowing that he’s at least okay enough to lie to her.

If that’s what she wants she doesn’t get it, because Kaz says nothing. He just keeps looking away, eyes vacant and dead.

Just like their argument on the roof. She’d thought how silent he’d been then was wrong. They’ve argued before, but Kaz has never been quiet and listened. When Kaz is in an argument he lays into the other person with every ounce of cruel intelligence he possesses. Before that night, Inej had never won an argument with him. She should have known right away that something was wrong, but she’d been too angry and too high on her own victory to notice.

“Kaz,” Her voice softens, almost pleading. “What’s wrong?”

Finally he looks back at her, his eyes are still dead in a way that looks nothing like the Bastard of the Barrel. “Nothing,” he says. “I’m fine.”

Even though she was expecting this she can’t help but sigh. “Tell me the truth, Kaz.”

“I was sleeping,” Kaz says in a tone of voice that’s a little too flat for his defensive words. “Nothing more.”

“It’s ten thirty,” she points out.

He raises an eyebrow. “All kinds of people go to bed before that.”

“Not you,” Inej points out. It’s true; going to bed at midnight constitutes as early for Kaz Brekker. “Come on, Kaz.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “Leave me alone and let me sleep.”

Then he curls up on the bed again with his back facing her.

(8)

She can’t get him to start talking to her again, no matter how much she pleads. When she tries shaking him again he just shoves her off and pulls the blanket over his head.

Eventually she realizes that she’s unlikely to get any response from him. She’s going to be stuck waiting for the unlikely possibility that he’ll relent and tell her what’s wrong. She stands up. “I’m going to clean up this room a little,” she told him. “I’ll be right here if you decide you want to talk.”

Kaz doesn’t answer.

Inej sighs and sets to work on the mess Kaz has made. There’s an empty whiskey bottle lying on the floor and when she picks it up she realizes that it’s that super expensive whiskey she and Kaz stole once. Trust Kaz not to get drunk on something cheap.

She throws the bottle away, then turns to the papers spread out across the floor. After she picks up a couple she realizes they’re part of a letter. It takes her the better part of fifteen minutes to gather them all up and figure out what order they go in, but then her curiosity gets the better of her and she starts to read.

(9)

What she reads horrifies her.

If it wasn’t Kaz’s handwriting she would have thought someone else wrote it. The words don’t sound like Kaz Brekker. Kaz Brekker isn’t this open. He doesn’t talk like this. Kaz Brekker does not display this kind of abject self-hatred. Yet at the same time she knows that this horrible, untrue letter is Kaz and she knows that this is how he feels. This is what she abandoned him to without even realizing it.

She knew he had a lot armor, but she realizes now she may have given her understanding a bit too much credit. She had thought that she saw Kaz completely through the eyes of the almost eighteen year old woman she is now, but she realizes she was wrong. Somewhere inside of her a tiny portion of the fifteen year old girl she had been when Kaz rescued her from the Menagerie has been hanging on skewing her viewing of him. Back then she saw Kaz as something powerful and immortal, something strong enough to rise above the filth of Ketterdam, something that could make the monsters pay. That was what had drawn her to him in the beginning; the promise that perhaps, just perhaps he could make her something like that too.

Over the years that view of Kaz had started to die as she realized that Ketterdam took something from everyone, realized she did not need to be a monster. She’d also realized that Kaz was no demon, no immortal being, he was just a boy who had suffered trauma every bit as great as hers.

If Inej was honest with herself, Kaz had done more than just buy her indenture; he was why she wasn’t like some of the blank-eyed people she pulls out of slaver holds. From the instant she’d left the Mangerie, she’d never had the chance to sink into the blackness of her own despair because Kaz had always been there pushing her to move climb a little faster, hit a little harder, to be more than that girl who’d been sold in the brothels. He had saved her, even if he’d never intended to, even if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. She had owed him the same, and she’d failed.

She sits on the floor and presses her forehead against her knees. She’d left Ketterdam thinking that she didn’t need Kaz anymore. That is at least kind of true; she no longer relies on him to determine her identity the she once did. She’s her own person with her own goals in her reach, but she’d forgotten to wonder whether Kaz needs her more than she needs him.

She turns to him. She doesn’t know what she’s going to say to him, but she knows that she needs to say something. “Kaz…” she whispers. He doesn’t respond, but his shoulders aren’t as tight as they were before so she thinks he’s fallen back to sleep.

She carefully pulls the blanket back around his shoulders so it’s no longer covering his face. Then she carefully steps towards the window. She isn’t sure what she needs to do to fix this and the only thing she can think of is that the only food Kaz keeps in his rooms is dry, gross stuff that doesn’t spoil. Food is like a bandage on a gaping wound, but it is something she can do right now.

Before she leaves she thinks about trying to find all Kaz’s knives and lock them up. She doesn’t know if Kaz will try to hurt himself, but she also knows that she’s unlikely to find all the knives he has hidden. She decides she’s better off just moving quickly and hoping to be back before he wakes up.

She takes one last look at his crumpled form and leaps out the window.

(10)

Her first stop is at the Van Eck mansion. She writes a note to Anika saying that she’s found Kaz, and one to Jesper and Wylan saying that something has come up and that she’ll make it up to them later. She doesn’t mention anything about the kind of shape Kaz is in. She’s not going to tell anyone about what’s going on without his blessing.

She gives the letters to one of the servants then sneaks into the kitchens. She makes off with some meat and vegetables because it will be easier than finding a shop to break into. She’ll pay Jesper and Wylan back later.

After leaving the mansion she stops by the Wraith to grab a few things. This only takes a few minutes and the crewmember on watch doesn’t even notice that she’s there. She makes a mental note to give her crew a talking to about how to be on guard duty, but right now she has bigger problems.

As she heads back to the Slat she passes by the small toy shop where she got the stuffed crow she gave to Alby Rollins before she left Ketterdam. She picks the simple lock on the backdoor and lets herself in. The shop is just as small and quaint as it was the last time she was here. She remembers belatedly that she’d promised the owner she’d convince Kaz to put this shop under Dregs protection in exchange for making the crow toy in a matter of hours. She’d forgotten in the whirlwind of preparations for her voyage. She renews that promise to herself as she looks at the wares spread out around the dark shop. She should not get in the habit of breaking her promises.

She wanders through the store looking at all the cute, fluffy stuffed toys. She isn’t exactly sure why she came here, but she feels like she needs to be here.

Eventually she stops before a rack of stuffed bears. She had a bear toy as a child. She remembers hugging it to her chest and feeling safe. She wonders briefly what happened to it when she got too old to want it anymore. Suddenly she hopes her parents didn’t get rid of it. She would like to see it again.

As she runs her fingers along the shelves of stuffed bears she wonders if Kaz ever had a toy like this. She has spent a lot of time recently trying to figure out exactly where Kaz came from. She knows that at some point in his life someone must have cared for him--he would have died as an infant if he’d been completely abandoned from the moment he was born--but she hasn’t been able to figure out who. She knows Kaz had a brother, but she doesn’t even know what his name was let alone how much older he was. Perhaps this older brother raised Kaz in the Barrel and then ran afoul of Pekka Rollins.

The only person who could answer her questions is Kaz and he’s so close-lipped about himself that it’s honestly a miracle he admitted he even had a brother. She wishes she could convince him to talk to her. She wants to help him, and talking always helps.

She shakes herself. She’s not helping Kaz by sitting in a toy shop and leaving him all alone. She starts to leave, then pauses and turns back to the rack of bears. She suddenly becomes aware of the idea that has been forming in her mind the entire time she’s been in this shop. She’s fully aware it might be a terrible idea and that he might refuse it at best and assume she’s mocking him at worst, but she feels like it’s something she needs to do.

She chooses to a medium-sized bear with a soft, cuddly body; silky, caramel-colored fur and a sweet, reassuring face that doesn’t have any uncomfortable wires in it. She sets the tag on the shop counter along with twice the kruge the owner is charging and slides the bear into a bag she took from Jesper and Wylan’s.

She leaves the shop, locking the door carefully behind her. Then she takes a deep breath, collects herself and takes to the rooftops for the journey back to the Slat.

That teddy bear is probably the one concession to fluff you’ll get out of me. I read a headcanon post on Tumblr once where Inej wins a stuffed animal in a throwing contest and gives it to Kaz, and ever since I’ve been sort of obsessed with the idea.

One more part left. Hopefully it will get out soon, but I’ll make no promises.

Thank you for reading!

Emjen

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tmrw-tog · 5 years

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the keep reading link isn’t working for me and i feel bad ://

#what goes on in pim’s brain

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mitchbeck · 5 years

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CANTLON: WOLF PACK OFF-SEASON - VOL. 8

BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - The final trophy in professional hockey for the 2018-2019 has been awarded when the Stanley Cup was presented to the St. Louis Blues on Wednesday night. But now the real work begins as every team will start to make their plans to fill their rosters with the best possible talent in search of a championship in 2019-20. STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS It was a classic Game 7, and the AHL played had a big role in directing Lord Stanley to St. Louis. It's been 49 years since the Blues last appeared in a Stanley Cup final (1970) and it was their first win in the franchise's 52 years in existence. The Blues' 4-1 victory was aided by a spectacular performance from goaltender Jordan Binnington. He made 32 saves including 12 superlative stops in the first period. Remember, the Blues were dead last in the NHL on January 3rd. They were 31st out of 31 teams when they fired head coach Mike Yeo and named Craig Berube their interim head coach. But that wasn't the only move that turned their franchise around. The first move was to relegate their then-starter, Jake Allen, to his being their backup goalie. They traded away ex-Pack Chad Johnson to the Anaheim Ducks and elevated Binnington from the AHL's San Antonio Rampage. The Rampage started off just as bad as their parent club. They went 2-8 in October but were able to get back to near .500 with a 16-7-1-0 run that included a seven-game winning streak. Binnington, who was nicknamed Winnington by his Rampage teammates, was summoned to calm the icy waters between the team's 4 x 6 cage. What's truly ironic is that a year ago Binnington was playing for the Bruins AHL affiliate in Providence, just 50 miles south of where he hoisted hockey’s Holy Grail on Wednesday. He was assigned there because St. Louis out of Chicago for an affiliate had to assign prospects throughout the AHL before getting their affiliation in San Antonio this year. Binnington becomes just the fourth rookie goalie to win a Stanley Cup Game 7. The other names on that list are pretty good goalies. They include Ken Dryden (Montreal 1971), Cam Ward (Carolina 2006) and Frank McCool (Toronto 1935). The AHL is an NHL development league. It would be fitting for the cover of the 2019-20 AHL Media Guide to feature Binnington. CALDER CUP PLAYOFFS The Checkers pulled off checkmate in five games and captured their first AHL Calder Cup in team history. The Checkers were the AHL’s best team in the regular season and now post season as well. The Checkers on the road in Chicago captured the top prize of the AHL with a 5-3 win over the Chicago Wolves. Andrew Poturlarski scored two goals including the game’s first goal just 1:31 in and the eventual game-winner. He was awarded the Jack Butterfield Playoff MVP trophy registering 12 goals and 23 points in 18 games. Morgan Geekie also chipped in a goal and assist in the championship-clinching win. Ex-Pack goalie, Dustin Tokarski, was amazing and earned his second Calder Cup ring. Since his loan reassignment to Charlotte on February 28th, Tokarski didn’t lose a game. While with the Checkers during the regular season he went 7-0-0 with a 1.14 GAA and a .935 save percentage. In the regular season with the Pack, he was 10-6-2-1 with a 3.10 GAA and a .901 save percentage. Following a 9-1-1-0 hot streak, Tokarski finished by going 1-5-1-1 and was pulled in his last game with the Wolf Pack on February 17th against the Wilkes Barre/Scranton Penguins. It was the second time he was pulled from a game in two weeks. In the postseason for Charlotte, Tokarski went 5-0 and posted a 1.74 GAA and a .935 save percentage. He will likely head next year to play in the Swedish Hockey League (SHL) after having received four offers. Ex-Whaler Mike Vellucci, who was voted the Louis A. Pieri AHL Coach of the Year, as well as ex-Nighthawk Don Waddell, the team GM, will get Calder Cup rings. Ex-Pack Bobby Sanguinetti played in ten playoff games leading up to the finals, added a goal and five assists, However, Sanguinetti didn’t play in any of the game's Calder Cup Finals. Neither did Zach Stortini, who's one of the toughest guys in AHL history and who's likely to retire this summer that’s the only blemish on one of the best AHL teams along with Manchester to capture the tile in the last ten years. The team should send a ring to former Hurricanes GM and Whaler great Ron Francis. The players on that roster are his draft picks and helped fuel this championship run. Next stop Saturday, October 5th, the Wolf Pack home opener. PLAYERS & COACHING MOVEMENT The first of JD’s roving development coaches to work with younger prospects has been hired. Ex-Pack, Tanner Glass, 35, hung up the player skates after playing for GHC Bordeau (France-FREL) last year. He played 527 NHL games and 186 in the AHL. The Dartmouth grad was a superb blend of hard work, skill, toughness, and brains. It's a good first choice by JD. Head coach Jay Woodcroft of the Bakersfield Condors has been given a two-year extension by Edmonton. The Ontario Reign's assistant coach, and one-time Springfield Falcon player and assistant coach, David Bell, has left the team. He's bounced around the last few years between the OHL and AHL. John Madden, the former NJ Devil, not the Oakland Raider Coach, was let go by the Cleveland Monsters after two seasons. Officially, it was mutually agreed, but it is rumored that Madden and his players didn’t mesh well. AHL TO EUROPE LIST GROWS The fourth player lost by The Bridgeport Sound Tigers to heading across the pond is goalie Jeremy Smith. He signed with Kunlun (China-KHL). Joining him in China is Spencer Foo (Stockton), an Asian-Canadian kid who could potentially play for the Chinese Olympic Team at the 2022 Beijing Winter Games. Ex-CT Whale Tim Erixon finally heads back to Sweden. He signed with Vaxjo (Sweden-SHL), Goalie, Eddie Pasquale, goes from Syracuse to Barys Nur-Sultan (Kazakhstan-KHL), Emil Petterson Tucson/Milwaukee joins Erixon at Vaxjo HC (Sweden-SHL) and Sam Carrick leaves San Diego to EV Zug (Switzerland-LNA). Leaving the AHL to Euro number at 43. Ex-Pack and former captain, Mat Bodie, moves from Torpedo Novgorod (Russia-KHL) to Vaxjo HC (Sweden-SHL) on a one year deal. Ex-Pack Simon Denis leaves the Daemyung Killer Whale (South Korea-ALIH) and signs with Tokohu Free Blades (Japan-ALIH) next season. Mike Little (Enfield) leaves EC Kassel Huskies (Germany DEL-2) for SonderyskE (Denmark-DHL). Goalie, Patrick Spano (Yale/Westminster Prep), goes from HC Chambery (France Division-2) to Liege (Belgium-Netherlands BEL-NED) next season. Chad Staley of the University Alaska-Fairbanks (WCHA) heads to Hamburg (Germany- Division-3). That makes 34 collegians to sign Euro deals and 219 total US collegians Division I and III to sign pro deals. Ex-Pack, Garth Murray was named the full-time head coach for Aalborg Pirates (Denmark-DHL). He was the assistant coach for a year-and-a-half and was elevated on February 5th, 2018 to the head spot. Former Whaler, Robert Petrovicky, was named the coach of Slovakia’s U-20 team that will play in the 2020 World Junior Championship (WJC). The Championships will be held in the Czech Republic in Ostrava and Trinec, which is near the Czech Republic-Slovak Republic border from December 26th to January 5th. In his playing days, Petrovicky played for the last Czechoslovakia WJC team in 1993 before the country split into two separate republics. Missed this one from the NAHL Draft. Will Dineen, the son of former Hartford Whaler great, Kevin Dineen, was drafted by the Odessa Jackalopes in the seventh round (162nd overall) and he was also selected in the April USHL Draft by the Omaha Lancers in the seventh round (98th overall). The younger Dineen played for the prestigious Chicago Mission U-18 program that plays in the HPHL U-18 Division. Hockey is in this family tree. His daughter, Hannah, finished her college hockey career at Colby (Maine) and his niece, Ashley, finished her D-III career as well at St. Michael’s, VT. Kevin's brother, Gord is the assistant coach with Rochester. His brother Shawn is an ex-Nighthawk is a pro scour for Nashville, brother Peter is an assistant coach with Adirondack (ECHL) after 19 years as a scout with Columbus and brother and Jerry has been the Rangers video coach for the last 16 years. Their late father Bill started the hockey lineage as he played on two Stanley Cup championships back to back with the Detroit Red Wings 1953-1955 with Gordie Howe. He coached the WHA Houston Aeros all seven years of their existence in the league with his old linemate, Gordie Howe, still playing, winning two Avco Cups. He coached the last WHA New England Whalers team. He was a scout for the Hartford Whalers their first two NHL seasons. From the “They-Grow-Up-Up-Quickly" department, after receiving a text from ex-Wolf Pack great, Derek Armstrong, his oldest son, Dawson, now 18, and who was born in Hartford will be trying out in the fall for the Buffalo Jr. Sabres (OJHL). The Jr. Sabres assistant coach is one of Army’s old Wolf Pack teammates, Tony Tuzzolino, whose older brother, Nick is the Head Coach). The other assistant is former CT Whale, Tim Kennedy. Army's second son, Easton Armstrong, just finished his second junior camp with Regina (WHL), but he will play for the LA Kings AAA U-18 (TIEHL) squad this year. KEVIN DINEEN Click HERE for a great article on Kevin Dineen In addition, a companion video of Dineen’s discussing his favorite hockey memorabilia is HERE. Dineen would make the perfect next coach for the Hartford Wolf Pack. Dineen fits what the team so badly needs right now, a strong leader. No offense is not meant in a disparaging way the last two head coaches in Keith McCambridge, and Ken Gernander. A coach with a strong playing background in the NHL 1,188 games with 355 goals, 405 assists for 760 points and 2,229 PIM. He played two stints with the Whalers 1984-1991 and from 1995-1997. He played in that fateful last game in Whalers history and was the captain for the last Whalers team and the Carolina Hurricanes first team. He played for Philadelphia where he wore the A twice, skated for Ottawa and closed out his playing days the last three years with Columbus. Dineen has a solid NHL coaching resume. He spent three years as Head Coach of the Florida Panthers. He then spent a little over four years in Chicago with the Blackhawks earning a Stanley Cup ring as the assistant coach with his close friend and former Whaler teammate, Joel Quenneville. Ironically, he just took the head coaching job at Florida last month. Dineen, Quenneville, and Ulf Samuelsson, the three Whalers amigo’s, were let go by Chicago last November 6th, but their Whaler jersey numbers 5, 10, and 11 remain “retired” in the rafters of the XL Center. Between his Florida and Chicago gigs, Dineen helped guide the Canadian women to the Gold medal at the Olympics. He was also the Head Coach of the Canadian U-18 team at their WJC tournament. Dineen is a former Whaler who was highly popular here is second in all the top player categories with 587 games, 235 goals 268 assists and 503 points tops is, of course, Ron Francis (714-264-557-821) and he is second in PIM at 1,237 to Torrie Robertson’s 1,368. and met his wife here and their kids were born here. When he was in Portland, where he spent six years as the team's head coach, the players there spoke highly of his motivational value and willingness to work with younger players and incorporate new ideas. Give him some good new younger assistant coaches seeking to patch the holes in the Wolf Pack ship, and get some energy in the locker room, and maybe jump start the non-existent marketing of this team with that big smile and love of Hartford from Dineen. It’s worth a shot. QMHL DRAFT From a CT point of view Selects Academy of South Kent Prep school was the big winner with eight players selected at the QMJHL Draft last Saturday in Quebec City. The first part is an open-ended draft and there is a second American only draft where three of the eight were taken. Oscar Plandowski was the first taken in the 1st round (18th overall) by the Chicoutimi Sagueneens. He is a Quinnipiac University (ECACHL) commit for 2020-21. Cam MacDonald was taken in the 3rd round (51st overall) by the Saint John Sea Dogs. He is scheduled to play for the Sioux City Stampede (USHL) next season but has no current college commit. Ryan Greene was taken in the 4th round (59th overall) by the Charlottetown Islanders. Greene is a Boston University (HE) commit for 2021-22. Eli Barnett went in the 11th round (188th overall) by the Quebec Remparts and is a University Vermont (HE) 2021-22 commit. Cam Miranda went in the 12th round (200th overall) by Saint John and has no college commit. There had to be some silence when in the 5th round (74th overall) selection was announced…Robert Orr by Saint John. No relation to the great Robert Gordon Orr #4 in Boston. The second overall pick of the draft, Justin Robidas, by the Val d'Or Foreurs, is the son of former NHL’er, Stephane Robidas. The only other NHL/AHL father/son combo was Zack Morrissette, the son of Dave “Moose” Morrissette was taken in the 3rd round (53rd overall) by his hometown team, Baie Comeau. In the American-only portion of the draft, a familiar name was a high selection in Ryan St. Louis (Riverside/Brunswick Prep) was taken in the first round (5th overall) by the Blainville-Boisbriand Armada. He is the eldest son of former Rangers and recent NHL Hall of Fame inductee, Martin St. Louis, and is a Northeastern (HE) 2021-22 commit. Jack Kurrie, another Selects Academy at South Kent Prep product was taken in the 1st round (9th overall) by the Sherbrooke Phoenix. Kurrie a Vermont native is a commit to University Vermont (HE) for 2022-23. Two picks later he saw his teammate Jake Bongo (Ridgefield) selected by the Chicoutimi Sagueneens. Then 1st round (13th overall) pick was John P. Turner (Westport/Avon Old Farms) by the Charlottetown (PEI) Islanders. He was also taken by Sioux City (USHL) 6th round (89th overall) in April and is a University New Hampshire (HE) commit for 2021-22 Goalie, Jake Fillion from the Connecticut Chiefs (Newington) U-16 team in the AYHL (Atlantic Youth Hockey League) was taken in the 1st round (15th overall) by the Baie-Comeau Drakkar who just hired a new head coach. Then in the 1st round (16th overall) Paul Davey (Greenwich/Brunswick Prep) was taken by the Memorial Cup finalist Halifax Mooseheads. He is a Boston College (HE) 2021-22 commit. The next pick saw Oliver Flynn (Wolcott) of the Connecticut Chiefs U-16 team taken by the Drummondville Voltigeurs. He was also taken by Waterloo Black Hawks (USHL) 6th round (89th overall) in April. Then in the 2nd round (23rd overall) Matt McGroarty (Westport/Brunswick Prep) was taken by Blaineville-Boisbrand and was selected by Madison (USHL) in their draft two months ago. He is a Quinnipiac University (ECACHL) 2021-22 commit. Then in the 2nd round (26th overall) Casey Raffone (Guilford) the last of the Selects Academy at South Kent Prep players was taken by the Quebec Remparts. Then in the 2nd round (34th overall), Luke Holyfield (Cromwell) of the Connecticut Chiefs U-16 squad was taken by Cape Breton Screaming Eagles. The last players taken went in the 2nd round (36th overall) in Matt Samokevich (Newtown) by the newly-crowned Memorial Cup champion, Rouyn Noranda Huskies. He played this year for nationally-renowned Shattuck’s St. Mary’s program (MNPREP) and few games for the Chicago Steel (USHL) who drafted him in 2018 in the 4th round (63rd overall) and is a University Michigan (Big 10) commit in 2020-21. POOLSIDE CHATTER With hockey playing in North America and Europe completed everybody is undefeated and now the business of hockey 2019-20 takes center stage with first the NHL Awards in Las Vegas on the 19th, then the NHL Draft in Vancouver June 21-22, free agent frenzy on July 1st for the NHL and AHL. Rumblings from the West Coast say that Calgary is likely to move their AHL farm from Stockton after next season and a possible location will be Fresno, a onetime ECHL market. The issue isn’t the building or the fans they like both very much, but the gang violence in Stockton is considered a bad environment for the players and team staff alike. Any possible changes however will wait until Seattle makes its selection for its AHL team. The same Western source says that Palm Springs is a possible location for an AHL team for expansion Seattle. It's not a fantasy and that there is plenty of serious talk going on. The potential team would be centrally located for the Pacific Division for Ontario and San Diego. Easy short, inexpensive flights to the Northern California teams and direct flights to Tucson and Colorado, two other Pacific Division teams. Keeping the rink viable in the desert in the heat will be an issue, but Arizona and Las Vegas are not Edmonton both in desert climates have rinks and there is an ice rink in Abu Dhabi, and it gets crazy hot there and Palm Springs, maybe it can work. Rejected the first team suggested name - The Palm Beach Conquistadors. Yes, resurrecting the old ABA name from the San Diego franchise would be great and make a superb logo for merch sales… The AHL could see that team in two years, a truly universal homogenized schedule of 70 or 72 games than the present 76-68 East-West split which everyone agrees is not very professional for the second best league in the world. The key is whether the teams in the East particularly teams like Hershey, Cleveland and Grand Rapids would give up two lucrative home dates will likely have to be compensated in some other manner and the West wants no three in three-game structure a deal. This could allow for a compromise and a deal to be struck and once the new Seattle team is finalized. Staying out West, some early word is that an initial sketch of an NCAA Division I Western conference is taking shape with Arizona State currently, and, independent D-I program being the first school. The Sun Devils are starting to break ground on their brand new on-campus arena that is expected to be ready by the 2021. Some of the schools being bandied about for such a conference are; USC, UCLA, University of Oregon, University of Washington, Boise State and Stanford. There could be some wild cards in that mix, possibly UNLV, Portland State, or Montana. Players are not the issue, it’s the lack of a conference. Once all the details are worked out, like rinks and leases, travel, NCAA compliance issues and regulations for a conference this is going to be another shot in the arm for hockey out West on the heels of Seattle being awarded an NHL expansion franchise. Speaking of Seattle, the price tag for the renovations for the KeyArena (which will be renamed with a new title sponsor upon reopening) have seen their costs ballooned already to $930 million (take note CT residents) from its original $600 million initial price tag back in October. The completion date has moved to the summer of 2021, four months before their first NHL season is slated to start in 2021-22. The work has also begun on its brand new training facility that is said to be state of the art and will hopefully meet any new requirements in the next NHL CBA agreement as well as the current one. Here is an update from KING-TV Channel 5 in Seattle; Watch it HERE. The name Sockeyes might be one of the finalists for a team name as a logo with salmon colors (thank God no black) is circulating. I’m still partial to Sea Lions and I think a great mascot name, Sammy the Sea Lion could emerge. Seattle has trademarked 13 possible names and Sockeyes and Sea Lions are among them. Closer to home the Islander new arena at Belmont Park is awaiting three final approvals before putting the shovels in the ground. The Empire State Development, the Franchise Oversight Board and Public Authority Central Board are slated to sign off on the deal in the next 60 days so the 18,000 seat arena can be built by the 2022 season. Read the full article

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thrashermaxey · 6 years

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Ramblings: Bubble Keeper Week and Evgeni Dadonov; Gardiner, Enstrom, Virtanen, and More – July 28

Bubble Keeper Week is just about wrapping up here. Again, thanks to the wonderful community for making this a fun week for everyone to come out and talk about their keeper problems. See, someone does care about your fantasy team!

Be sure to check tomorrow’s Ramblings because I think Ian will be doing a quick wrap-up of some names of interest to him, or that we may have overlooked this week. If you have some questions for him, throw them his way on Twitter.

The 2018-19 Dobber Hockey fantasy guide drops Wednesday August 1st! Be sure to head to the Dobber Shop and pre-order your copy today. Get in early to soak up all that fantasy goodness through the dregs of August.

During a media availability yesterday, Corey Crawford indicated he may not be ready for training camp. Keep an eye out for updates as the summer wears on.

The Caps signed Tom Wilson to a six-year extension with a cap hit just under $5.2-million. That's per year.

Though I’m not sure there will be much fantasy relevance, I’m a little surprised no team has signed Tobias Enstrom yet. His 50-point seasons are a thing of the distant past, but he’s still a pretty good defender, and a lot of teams can use a good left-handed defensive defenceman. A real defensive defenceman, not a face-punching defensive defenceman.

I’m not just being hyperbolic here. These are the heat maps of shots allowed over his last two seasons with the Jets, from HockeyViz. The darker the blue, the fewer the shots compared to the league average:

Maybe he will return to Sweden after all, as had been reported earlier this summer. It’s hard to imagine an NHL team couldn’t use what he brings, and likely for very cheap.

Jake Virtanen signed a two-year deal with the Canucks carrying an AAV of $1.25-million. The 6th overall pick from 2014 had 10 goals and 20 points in 75 games last year while playing a shade under 12 minutes a game.

There is not a ton of reason to be optimistic as Vancouver fans. Trevor Linden stepping down as President of Hockey Operations, at the end of July, is weird timing. Then we find out this:

Farhan said with the top prospects coming in ownership thought if a couple holes could be filled they could contend for a playoff spot. Linden didn’t agree.

— Taj (@taj1944) July 26, 2018

At least Linden seemed to have an honest assessment of the team. This team really needs guys like Pettersson, Gaudette, Lind, Hughes, Juolevi, and Dahlen to all pan out not just as NHLers, but as top-half of the roster-type NHLers. If not, there could be a few more very lean years ahead.

All that aside, Virtanen did show well last year despite the lack of raw counting stats. I wrote about him briefly in April as well as mid-March and not too much more needs to be said than what was said in those articles.

With the Sedins gone, the entire forward roster is wide open outside of Bo Horvat and Brock Boeser. Anyone could play anywhere at any time. There’s no reason for this team not to be a true meritocracy wherein whichever player is exceeding gets the ice time. If he can play this year with the consistency he finished last year, he could jump to 16 minutes a game and crack the 20-goal barrier. Whether he plays with that consistency is up to him.

It’s funny to see the Artemi Panarin trade talks persist. I do wonder what the Blue Jackets will do here. If he’s not committed to signing another deal, it would be painful to trade him, but they’d almost have to. A player of that calibre would get a haul that could help the team over the next 4-5 years with the very good group of young guys they have. With the Leafs bolstered, the Lightning as dangerous as ever, Boston still strong, the Cup champions, and the two-time champs all in their Conference, they may need to be realistic of their chances for a Cup this year.

A very hard decision has to be made either way. I don’t envy the Blue Jackets brain trust on this one.

Over my last few Ramblings, I’ve mentioned Evgeni Dadonov in probably all of them. Most were bubble keeper questions. Despite popping off for 28 goals and 65 points in his first full season in the NHL, he’s a worthy debate as a keeper in some leagues.

Let’s set aside his point totals for a second. Let’s look at everything else.

Among 367 players in my sample (500-plus five-on-five minutes in 2017-18, data from Corsica), Dadonov ranked 258th in blocked shots per 60 minutes. In that same sample, he was 344th in hits per 60 minutes. Long story short, if you’re in a league that counts hits and blocked shots, he’s detrimental in those categories.

He had eight penalty minutes in 2017-18. Over his final three seasons in the KHL, he had 53 in 165 games. If he got to 25 penalty minutes, that’d be a huge total for him, and still no real help in leagues that count PIMs.

There is the possibility (probability?) that he loses his top PP slotting to newcomer Mike Hoffman. Though he only had 13 PPPs last year, no forward outside the top PP unit had more than seven, and even those seven were from Nick Bjugstad who got some sparse top PP minutes. Should Dadonov be pushed off the top PP unit, he probably falls off to 5-6 PPPs. Not only does that make him a virtual nothing in that category for roto leagues, it drops his overall production under 60 points.

On the bright side, Dadonov was among the team leaders in shot rate at five-on-five, trailing only Bjugstad among regulars. He also had an injury in the first half which may have depressed his rates somewhat. Without getting too excited, though, he also shot 13.8 percent. That’s high. Even if that falls off to just 11 percent, which would still be well above the league average, he could lose 4-5 goals.

Dadonov shouldn’t lose his top-6 slotting at five-on-five but he will probably lose his power play time. He doesn’t contribute in peripheral categories and his five-on-five shooting percentage should tail off. The loss of PP time and regression in shooting percentage alone could knock 10 points off his total.

Being a 55-point winger with minimal power-play time in the NHL is worth $4-million. I’m not saying he’s a bad player or anything of the sort. What this is meant to highlight is that it really depends what type of league you’re considering him for a keeper. If it’s a points-only league with more than a few keepers, he should be in consideration. Once we get into deeper points-only keeper formats, it’s a bigger question mark. Once we get into leagues that count several peripheral stats, he can probably be left off the keeper list.

While I’m thinking of bubble keepers who don’t provide much for peripheral stats, how about that Jake Gardiner?

Last year, Gardiner had the 45th-most blocked shots among all defencemen at five-on-five. The thing about that is every defenceman ahead of him played fewer minutes except Brent Burns. On a 60-minute basis, he was in the bottom-half of regular used defencemen. Gardiner may move into a penalty-kill role due to the loss of Roman Polak (if someone has seen something from off-season chatter from the coaching staff or something, post it in the comments). If he doesn’t, improving on the 103 blocked shots last year will be difficult.

He’s also seen his hit totals decline under the tutelage of Mike Babcock, bottoming out at 51 last year. For real life hockey, that’s a good thing. He’s focused more on puck recovery and transitional play than he is on just hammering guys. That’s what a coach should want from a player with his skill set. For fantasy hockey, it’s not helpful in the hits column.

Gardiner is going into his seventh full NHL season. He has played at least 79 games in five of them and has yet to crack 140 shots on goal. Last year was a four-year high with 133 and that’s still well short of what we want for fantasy hockey. From the work I did earlier this off season in rising shot totals, we want our fantasy defencemen over 170, even more if they don’t contribute much for hits/blocks.

The penalty minutes aren’t terrible but a low-30s mark isn’t really helpful. He’d need to add another 10-15 for him to contribute positively.

Aside from the link above on rising shot rates, I also looked at fantasy-relevant totals for things like penalty minutes, hits, and blocked shots. The average fantasy defenceman should have around 54 PIMs, 128 hits, and 144 blocked shots, give or take a few in each column. Consider that Gardiner falls well below everywhere from shots, to hits, to PIMs, to blocked shots, and it’s pretty clear how much value he has (or doesn’t) in multi-cat leagues.

Aside from assists, Gardiner really doesn’t do much in the fantasy game. The power play likely remains status quo, which means around 15 PPPs. He could see a slight decline in assists because of the career-high secondary assists he set but it won’t be a big drop. He can still cross the 40-assist threshold.

But that’s it. Gardiner can get you seven or eight goals and a pile of assists. That’ll play very well in points-only formats. But in leagues that count peripheral stats, he won’t give as much as people may think. Just for an example: in my points league that counts peripheral stats, he was just inside the top-40 defencemen in value. And that’s with a 50-plus point season.

When looking through keeper defencemen, if you’re in a multi-category league, Gardiner can probably be left to the side, depending on league depth.

While I have the Florida Panthers on my mind, it could be tough sledding for their prospects for a while. Looking up how many years Dadonov has left on his deal, I realized the following: Barkov, Trocheck, Huberdeau, Hoffman, Dadonov, and Bjugstad all have at least two years left on all their contracts. Jared McCann has two years on the deal he signed. Presumably, if all goes well, left/right wing on the third line are the only spots up for grabs that could have fantasy relevance.

I was just thinking of Henrik Borgstrom, Aleksi Heponiemi, and Owen Tippett. They are certainly talented enough where they could earn a roster spot but in the short-term, nothing is a given. They will get there eventually, but it could be a couple years before they have any real fantasy impact.

I’m not really a guy that targets prospects in one-year fantasy drafts. The list of guys I’ve targeted over the years in their age-18 season can probably be counted on one hand.

On the other hand… I’m finding it really hard not to get enamoured with Andrei Svechnikov.

I know, breaking news. Svechnikov is good. The thing is, it’s not really that hard to envision him with a top-9 slotting and top power-play minutes this year. My one concern would be that they stick Victor Rask on the top PP unit as they did at times last year. But if Svechnikov shows in camp to the level he’s capable and starts impressing with that shot of his, I find it hard to believe any coach would not give him the power-play minutes for him to succeed, even if it’s a month or so into the season.

Maybe this is all wishful thinking. Maybe he’ll bounce around the lineup and they limit his exposure in his first year. Or maybe they let him play his game, give him 15 minutes a night, and he puts up a 25-goal season.

Someone talk me off the ledge for this year, please.

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-bubble-keeper-week-and-evgeni-dadonov-gardiner-enstrom-virtanen-and-more-july-28/

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