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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years

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Jackunzel Month

Day 16 - The Snow Queen

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Ask for forever when the end is in sight Showing what you want to We're looking for light inside an ocean of night But will we ever see it through?

And I need you to know I'm not asking for a miracle But if love is enough Could you let it show? If you feel it could you let me know?

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LOOKIT ME, COMBINING PROMPTS LIKE AN ABSOLUTE MADWOMAN

Hey, it’s not my fault Miracle by Chvrches ended up going perfectly with the fanfic concept I thought up ;_____;

Okay but fr, I got a Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale book a few years ago as a white elephant present and I read the OG snow queen story, and I was like...highkey this is just Jackunzel??? Like I literally imagined Kai and Gerda as Jack and Rapunzel XD And I couldn’t NOT see Eugene and Elsa as the prince and princess, either! Deadass I’ve been planning to write a full-length Snow Queen Jackunzel AU fic for ages now, but alas! I definitely don’t have the time or motivation rn XD So for now, all y’all are getting is the last scene in this AU I planned (which is arguably the most angsty, intense, and dramatic, so you’re welcome) because I was too lazy to actually write the rest D:

I kinda struggled with who to make the “Lapland woman” and the “Finland woman” before deciding on Anna as the Lapland woman because...who the hell else would write directions on a fish? XD And Hiccup as the Finland Woman because I love the idea of him having a Funky Little Underground Workshop in the middle of the arctic tundra, as well as ridiculously powerful wind machines for some reason XD Threw in some Hiccanna for good measure, sue me.

So I COULD have just made Elsa the Snow Queen, but I already had her as the princess (I’m still Eugelsa trash in 2021, fight me), and I was like you know what would be 10x creepier??? Genderbent Pitch but with ice AND darkness powers, HORRIFYING

Preview for the fanfic under the cut! The full version is posted on my ff.net account, Infrared-Ultraviolet!

Pic credits available upon request!

***

Rapunzel looked up at the sky, stars highlighted by ribbons of glowing green and bright purple. She sank deeper into the pale brown fur beneath her, arms locked tightly around Sven’s neck.

So she was here at last. This is where she had been told her end destination was—an enormous castle with spear-like towers, made entirely of glistening ice and lit only by the flashing greens and violets of the aurora borealis. It was covered in bumps and streams and dripping trails—like the ice had started to melt, just barely, and then abruptly froze again.

It made it look as though the ghastly thing was bleeding.

“Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath, watching as her breath misted in front of her. The cold was piercing into her like tiny daggers.

She could do this. This is what she came all this way for.

Still, no one told her that everything about the Snow Queen’s castle would be sharp and intimidating. No one told her just being near it would feel so lethal.

Nonetheless, she knew she had to go in.

She slid off the reindeer’s back, giving him a pat on the nose. “Stay here, Sven. I think I need to do this alone.”

She started across the long bridge to the castle doors, bare feet stinging against the frigid ice. She couldn’t help but feel a prickle of annoyance at Sven, wishing he hadn’t yanked her out of Hiccup’s workshop and thrown her onto his back before she had a chance to grab her boots and her fuzzy hand warmer. The reindeer had taken off running, not slowing down in the least even as she yelled at him to stop and go back.

Admittedly, that was probably a sign she should hurry. If Sven was so anxious to get to this bleak place, it meant that Jack didn’t have much time. Ignoring the stabs of pain in her toes, Rapunzel picked up her pace.

She took a deep breath as she pushed open the castle’s front doors, just as bulky and cold as they looked. As she crept down frozen corridor after frozen corridor, her heart was a heavy river stone in her chest.

Please still be alive. Please still be alive.

All signs had led her here, to what had to be the coldest place in the world. If she was too late, and Jack had frozen to death, then it all would have been for nothing.

And she had gone through too much getting here to let that happen.

For starters, she’d narrowly avoided being kidnapped by Mother Gothel, an elderly woman with a beautiful, sprawling flower garden who had seemed nice enough at first. Mother Gothel had spoiled her so much that Rapunzel nearly forgot about her quest to find Jack. She doted on the girl, especially her unusual magical hair, and made her all the hazelnut soup she could ever want.

It was only when the flowers in the garden had started to murmur to Rapunzel in tortured whispers that the full truth dawned on her, and she realized it was never her that the old woman was interested in. It turned out that word had gotten out about the magic golden flower that gave Rapunzel’s hair its unusual abilities, and Gothel just wanted to take another “flower” to add to her collection.

She’d had a false alarm about Jack’s whereabouts as well, thinking he was in one of the western kingdoms along the way to the ice castle. She heard word from an odd little blue lizard that a witty, intelligent young man had come to town and married a reserved princess, notorious for her pickiness and her difficulty to impress.

There was only one person she could imagine strolling into a strange town with an infectious grin, somehow managing to charm the uncharmable. Her heart had sunk at the thought of Jack running off and pledging his life to some faraway princess who Rapunzel didn’t even know, but she was too eager to see him again to let herself be upset over it.

At that point, it had been two long months since she’d seen him last. It was the first time she truly began to feel desperate.

She still remembered the strange mixture of anticipation and dread as the lizard led her into the princess’s quarters, and she made out the outline of a lanky young man with a messy mop of brown hair. When he turned to face her, she realized it wasn’t Jack.

She didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. Jack was still missing, completely lost to the rest of the world, but at least he hadn’t slipped a ring of eternal devotion onto another girl’s finger.

Rapunzel couldn’t tell why the thought bothered her so much. She and Jack had only ever been best friends, nothing more. With the little bridge running between their attics, where they often spent summers together in the shade of blooming rose vines, their families joked they were practically brother and sister. It was true enough that they spent a good deal of time together, and they had known each other since they were old enough to go unsupervised onto the roof.

Still, the thought of Jack locking lips with some strange faraway girl, decked from head to toe in elegant jewels and finery, made Rapunzel profoundly uneasy.

Regardless, Prince Eugene and Princess Elsa had been sympathetic enough of her mission. They gave her their fanciest carriage, and wished her luck finding Jack.

It would have taken her the rest of the way if it weren’t for the bandit ambush in the forest. As if Rapunzel hadn’t encountered enough problems already.

She probably would have been killed, body ransacked and unceremoniously looted, had a girl about her age with tangled red hair not stepped in. Merida was prickly, rough around the edges and never without her knife, but she took a liking to Rapunzel. For days she snuck Rapunzel extra scraps of whatever meager food the thieves found, and even entrusted the blonde girl with the care of her prized reindeer Sven. This seemed like a big deal, given that Merida never stopped bragging about stealing Sven from some inattentive blonde boy a few months back.

Eventually Merida helped Rapunzel escape, sneaking her out of the woods on Sven’s back. Merida said she hoped fate would be on Rapunzel’s side, and instructed Rapunzel to give Jack a crisp slap for her for giving the blonde such a scare.

The tundra seemed long and bleak and endless, but Rapunzel wasn’t as alone as she thought. She came across the peculiar Anna, cooking fish in a hut in the middle of nowhere. Anna doted on Sven and wrote the two of them directions on a dried cod, of all things. She sent them off to a reclusive inventor named Hiccup, asking them to mention to him that Anna was boiling his favorite type of snow crab the following week and he should come over to her hut for dinner.

Rapunzel couldn’t help but wonder if Hiccup was the only reason someone as chatty as Anna would stay in such an isolated spot. She certainly seemed to have no shortage of good things to say about his building abilities.

Hiccup had an odd little workshop, an underground alcove warmed from the frigid air above by all manner of contraptions. His walls were covered from floor to ceiling with maps and papers and research, both scientific and magical.

Rapunzel had asked if he knew why Jack had started acting so cold and distant several months back, seemingly out of nowhere. She realized it was probably a stupid question, given that matters of the heart weren’t easily analyzed by the scientific method. The breadth of his knowledge pleasantly surprised her.

He had heard of a wicked mirror, one built by vengeful trolls high in the clouds. When a person looked into it, they could only see the terrible and the ugly in the world. The mirror had broken in an autumn storm, pieces flying all across the world.

It turned out Jack likely had a piece of magical glass now embedded in his heart, tainting it. Hiccup was all too familiar with the Snow Queen and her schemes, and he told Rapunzel it wasn’t unlikely that the queen had used Jack’s newfound icy, calculated nature to lure him into her grim palace.

It was up to Rapunzel to find a way to get that shard out. Hiccup said if she didn’t act fast, Jack’s heart would be frozen forever, soul irreparably corrupted and changed.

The inventor had given her a strange device before she left his workshop—a small, whirring metal box, supposedly containing all the power of the north winds. It would be enough to overpower the Snow Queen, if Rapunzel needed to.

Now, walking down yet another frigid passage, she looked down at the box and frowned. Hiccup’s last words echoed in her head.

If love is enough, then you won’t need to use it.

She came to the end of a wide corridor, arriving at a pair of elegant, blue-white doors. Inside, she could hear shuffling and scraping.

A very human-sounding shuffling and scraping.

Rapunzel’s eyes widened. Jack.

Taking a frosty breath, she pushed the double doors open.

She found herself inside a massive throne room, domed ceiling held up by tall pillars of cracked, twisted ice. At the other end of a long, pale blue carpet, the steps leading up to a pearly throne were dusted with snow. Massive snowflake designs, huge and sharp and angular, were spread across the frozen floor like ornamental rugs.

It was beautiful, in a disquieting sort of way.

The throne was empty at the moment, although this didn’t provide Rapunzel with much comfort.

A boy sat in the middle of the carpet, back turned to her. His body was familiar—thin, gangly, all spindly legs and stringy arms—but it wasn’t the boy she knew.

Jack had always been pale, but his skin was now the ghostly gray of an overcast sky. His hair, once a rich dark brown, had turned as white as the tundra outside. Long icicles hung in rings around his head, clamping onto tufts of hair like they were tiny eaves.

Rapunzel clenched her teeth, barely stopping herself from letting out a strangled cry.

She heard him shuffling around, sliding something hard over the ground. She couldn’t make out what he was doing.

She had a bad feeling about it regardless.

“Jack?” she called out hesitantly, moving toward him.

He stopped, turning eerily slowly to face her. When she caught sight of his face, she had to root her feet into the ground to keep from jumping back.

His eyes had turned the same shade of blue as the walls around them, and every trace of warmth was gone. His mouth curled up into a vicious grin as he looked over her.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,” he called out. “Long way from your princess tower, aren’t you? I didn’t think you were strong enough to brave the cold.”

Rapunzel winced. He’d poked fun at her fairy tale namesake plenty of times growing up, but there had never been that…cruel edge to his voice before.

“Doesn’t matter how cold it is out there,” she said slowly. “I had to find you. I’ve come to take you home, Jack.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Why?”

She frowned. “Because everyone back home is worried sick about you! They miss you! I miss you.”

He scowled at her as she stepped closer, his gaze full of ice. “Oh yeah? And what makes you think I miss them? What makes you think I want to go back with you?”

His lip curled in disgust as he said it, and Rapunzel felt a lump start to swell in her throat.

“We’re best friends,” she whispered. “We have been since you wandered over to my attic, as soon as you were old enough to walk. You always wanted to be with me, even when your parents didn’t want you roaming around on the roof alone. What changed?”

He looked over her, seeming to size her up like a displeasing specimen under a microscope. “Can’t believe I had such terrible taste,” he spat. “You were always so boring. Fawning over your bug-eaten flowers, hanging on every word of all the dull anecdotes I told you, gushing about every tree on the road like it was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. Spending hours reading stories meant for babies. I’m amazed I made it as long as I did without dying of boredom.”

“Jack…” Her voice broke. “You don’t mean that.”

“I like it much better here,” he went on. “There’s nothing beautiful in the world but cold and snow and ice. The queen gives me as much as I want, and she never wastes my time with tedious, pointless things like you always did.”

Rapunzel shook a shaky breath, remembering what Hiccup said.

That’s not him talking. That’s the mirror shard.

“This isn’t you,” she said softly, taking another step towards him. “I know you. You love splashing through mud puddles and climbing trees and feeding the squirrels at the park, and then laughing about the way they eat. You’ve spent all summer for the last 13 years finding the best-looking petals and leaves and sticking them in my hair and telling me I looked like a forest fairy. You read me stories in overdramatic voices, and you’re always doing anything you can to make me laugh. You’re Jack Overland, and you’re the best person I know.”

“No, I’m not,” he growled, standing up. “I’m Jack Frost now. Whatever boy you knew is dead. There’s nothing for you here anymore, so why don’t you leave?”

She shook her head, biting her lip to keep the tears from coming.

How was she supposed to get a shard of glass out of the damned boy’s heart?

#jackunzel #jackunzelmonth21 #jackunzelmonth #jack x rapunzel #rapunzel x jack #jack frost #rapunzel #jackxrapunzel #rapunzelxjack #rotbtd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the big four #rotg #rise of the guardians #tangled #crossover

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter thirty one: sets of twins

October thirteenth had come about and Sam knew for a fact that Joey was having a blast overseas in Germany. She pictured him with a big cake courtesy of one of the large luxurious bakeries over there that specialized in making cakes, and she knew he was to head off to bed that evening with his belly full of it as well as the dinner he so well chose.

Meanwhile, the arrival of the orange and red leaves on all of the trees made her think of the last days in which she and Cliff were together, right around that time in fact. A year ago. A year ago she had lost Cliff to the northern darkness and he became the hunter in the shadows left behind the aurora borealis. The walks to and from school only made the memory of him far more potent: but it was Joey's birthday when the reality of it all settled over her. Metallica had ascended into a whole other world of their own, but Joey and Anthrax remained right by her, right within arms' reach, just like the colors that changed on all of the trees around her.

The red and orange like the feathers decorated upon Joey's headdress.

She pictured him out front there on the stage with a little party hat upon his head much like Alex's birthday party, or perhaps he would wear one of those inside of his Indian headdress during their performance of “Indians”. The only drawback she saw with it however was that his birthday took place right smack in the middle of the week. Add to this, Sam, Marla, and Belinda didn't have a three day weekend like they so assumed would happen with Columbus Day.

“Go to school anyways,” Joey told her over the phone on the Thursday night before that weekend. “Make all the great art you possibly can for Monday. We need that great art of yours—all the red feathers and the Iroquois lore. The world needs that great art of yours.”

He then cleared his throat and sang to her in the softest, most gentlest voice she had ever heard him sing. She lay in bed all the while as well, and so when he sang to her, it almost felt as though he was singing her to sleep. Indeed, she nestled down in bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin as she held the cordless phone up to her ear. She pictured him laying in bed as well, complete with a cup of Mexican hot chocolate next to him. She smiled when he crooned the words, “Oh, Samantha” in a near whisper.

“That was so sweet,” she told him afterwards.

“That's the song I sang for my audition into Anthrax,” he explained, “it's called 'Oh, Sherrie', by Steve Perry from Journey. I just changed it to Samantha to kinda give it to ya and whatnot.”

“Aw.”

He then cleared his throat. “So any word on that big ass monolithic ginormous project you've got coming up?” “Nothing yet,” she explained, “although I'm supposed to meet up with Bill next Friday afternoon and talk it over more. At least I hope to get to see him. He told me he's going to pop into one of my classes just to watch me, but he never told me when it's supposed to happen.”

“Well, damn.”

They fell into silence for a seconds and then she spoke again.

“You know, I think you can actually come with me out to California,” she pointed out, “like—you know, we don't have to do the long distance. I might have to ask him about it because the whole thing about it being about school and whatnot. I say this because that was the mistake Cliff and I made. He didn't want to leave the Bay Area and I didn't want to leave New York, either. He actually got kind of defensive about it at one point. I remember that was one of the last things he and I talked about before Metallica left for their tour and we never fully finished it, either.”

“Wow, that sounds like there was a rift between you two,” Joey noted.

“I wouldn't necessarily say that,” Sam confessed as she slipped one hand underneath her pillow, right under her head. “But it was definitely something we couldn't address further than that, though. Cliff was so home grown with the Bay Area that it almost feels like a betrayal to him that he was killed in Scandinavia, somewhere that wasn't his home.”

“And if I'm honest, I kinda am, too, but with upstate.” He then cleared his throat again. “Although—make no mistake, though, Sam. If we were a lot bigger than we are right now, like if Anthrax truly was about to become something huge, I would probably reconsider that.”

“So for you, it's not just feeling at home and at peace in upstate New York but it's a matter of money.”

“Right! Exactly. We are kinda earnin', but it's not really a lot, though. No idea why this is, either. But we're barely getting paid, though, even while being on tour. Anyways, I gotta mosey on outta here—rehearsal starts in like three minutes. Also before I forget. I should tell ya this: be on the lookout for postcards.”

“Postcards from you?”

“From me, from Frankie, from Charlie, from Danny, from the girls, all of us. We're gonna be sending ya stuff while we're over here in Europe. Also, another thing I should ask you—how's Scott doin'? Have you talked to him at all?”

“I haven't seen him, no,” Sam confessed. “Like weeks—not since you auditioned for the guitarist position. Although I'm thinking of going over to his place and at least checking in on him and his fiancée.”

“You ought to. On the flight over here, Frankie and I were talking and at one point, he goes, 'I wonder how Scott's been doing lately. We sure haven't heard from him in a long time.'”

Someone behind him interrupted him right then and there.

“What's that?” Joey called back and he held the phone away from his ear. The person said something.

“Okay,” he told them, and he brought the phone back. “Anyways, I gotta go. You sleep tight, alright?”

“Of course,” Sam said. “And you guys don't stay up too late.”

He chuckled at that. “Alright—good night, Sam I am. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And they hung up at the same time. She lay there on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling above her, and she listened to the falling rain outside of her window.

But at some point, she drifted off to sleep without putting the cordless back. There was a dream in there at some point, but she had no idea as to what it exactly encapsulated, especially by the time she woke up and Marla was cooking something in the kitchen for the both of them.

Sam had hope that the Cherry Suicides would have their day on Halloween for their annual celebratory show. She had no idea as to where they were playing that night, either, but she hoped that they would have those sugar skulls with them again.

Indeed, on Columbus Day weekend, she sat down with her colored pencils and her journal. She thought of Joey and that big headdress of red and white feathers perched high on his head, as if it was a crown. The crown in lieu of a party hat, the crown for his ascension into his twenty seventh trip about the sun, and thus she drew his head and shoulders. Those thick luxurious curls down from his head in such flyaway fashion and that big cluster of feathers all the way down to the floor. That rich scarlet for the base and the orange and golden yellow for the power of the sun.

She thought about Belinda's wishes to take her into stained glass. Perhaps it could be something genuinely wonderful as she picked up the Prussian blue and burnt umber colored pencils for the shadows under Joey's eyes and all about his face.

She thought about the glass in question, in how it all seemed so much brighter and more colorful when in the sun. All the times of walking to and fro about that front hallway of the school, where the morning sun shone through the stained glass. If only there was a way to bring it all forth with mere colored pencils.

Indeed, she brought the burnt umber to an angle and she began shading in his skin, a tone ever so light about his face. By his nose and the point of his chin, she gave it another layer and spread it out. Followed by another and another, until there she had the darkest, fullest shade of that lush, earthy brown for his sun kissed skin. The blue, meanwhile, added a touch more depth, especially to the natural creases on his face, around his nose and the corners of his mouth and his dark lips.

If only there was a way in which she could show this drawing to Joey, and if only there was a way in which she could translate this very drawing over to the world of stained glass. She had faith in Belinda and her power of convincing, however the whole suggestion about bringing leather crafting to the school seemed to have fallen on deaf ears at that point: neither of them heard anything about it since Alex's birthday party.

It was right there that she had forgotten to ask Joey about the guitar strap she had given to him for his birthday, and how it was faring for him with the overseas crowds. She pictured him at the front of the stages, with the microphone before him and the guitar slung over his shoulder, high against his body as it should be with him. If there was anything he could have given Alex credit for, it had to be that. The whole thing between him and Alex almost no sense to her, even to that moment in time, it made no sense to her.

The day following Joey's birthday, a Wednesday afternoon and the only time Sam had any time to herself during that quarter given Marla's whole hectic schedule on her own as well as all that she had to do, she spotted a pair of cards in the mailbox downstairs, one light rosy pink and the other a butter yellow. The latter had with it a small lumpy envelope the size of a playing card.

She turned over the yellow card where she was met with a clear, crisp photograph of a castle in Germany. To be near a castle once again!

But then she turned it over again in order to read that messy scrawl in blue pen.

“Sam—

my wife and I are trusting you with this key to our apartment, seeing as we owe you the record player with Spreading.

I hope all is well back home right now! I wish you were here with us—if you loved England, you'll love Germany and Holland even more.

Love, Danny”

She turned her head back to the mailbox and she took out the envelope. Indeed, she felt something hard inside, and she knew that she had been given a chance to listen to the vinyl records she so wished to listen to, mainly Spreading the Disease and also Live at Eindhoven. She then turned to the pink postcard, which had a photograph of a cobblestone street somewhere in Amsterdam. But right in the midst of the cobblestones stood the Cherry Suicides, donned in black hats and red veils as if someone had taken the picture right before the show and one of them tacked it onto the card. She then turned it over to read.

“Sam—

do you remember that tape we asked you to make for us? Well, we got accepted into the new merger between Megaforce and the other label with it! A bootleg tape is now a live album thanks to your help. It's not our debut album, but it's something to start with with us. Because of it, we're happy to tell you that you're the first in line for this new record. The Cherry Suicides: from Rhode Island with love—live in Boston 1987, is the full title. Be on the lookout for it around Halloween, believe it or not.

Be on the lookout for a live album from Anthrax and Testament, too—although I'm sure you already know about the latter. I don't know if Eric told you this yet, but that album isn't even supposed to come out over there in States until next year, so consider yourself lucky, my lady! Anyways, there's all kinds of good stuff from all of us! Things are in fact beginning to look up, and the four of us in particular owe it all to you.

Morgan, Minerva, and Rosita all send their love, and as do I.

-Zelda”

She smiled at that and she held both cards to her chest, a pair of twin cards, from two people she held so close to her heart. She then made her way upstairs with those as well as that lumpy envelope that Dan had sent her, and she was eager to make her way over to his place all to listen to those vinyl records.

Again, a pair of twins, soon to be triplets with the Cherry Suicides' upcoming live album. How exciting! The girls finally found their way with a new record, and it happened to be that bootleg tape that Sam had made for them while they toured with Anthrax and Testament as well.

She almost stumbled her way into the apartment but she caught herself before Genie greeted her at the door. Once she set everything down on the couch, she reached down and pet her little black cat head. She squinted her eyes at the feeling and she treated Sam to a low purr, and she squatted down before her so she could better pet her.

If she was to leave for California with Bill, then she would have to leave Genie behind as well, and this cat always greeted her in particular whenever she came in through that door. She erected her tail but left a small hook at the top as she rubbed on her knees. She turned around and gazed up at her with those soft golden eyes and that purr from within her throat, and Sam continued to pet her head and her back before her knees began to ache from the squatting.

No sooner had she stood to her feet when the phone rang.

“Oh, goodness me,” she told Genie, and she bowed into the kitchen and fetched the phone on the wall. “Hello?”

“Hello, daughter of mine.” She recognized her mother's voice on the other end.

“Oh, hi, Mom! I got home from school just now. What's happening?”

“I have some good news and some bad news,” Esmé began.

“Good news first,” Sam told her.

“The good news is in this past summer, starting from May, I have taken up writing. I handed in a sample of a manuscript to a publishing house down in L.A and I'm waiting to hear back from them. Your mother just might become a published author soon.”

“Oh, my god, that's wonderful!” Sam waved her hand about before her face, and then she remembered. “Now what about the bad news?”

“The bad news is—your father and I might be splitting up,” she confessed in a low voice. Sam then brought that same hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming, or puking. Esmé let out a low whistle but she never said anything after that. The silence was deafening all around them.

“Why?” Sam finally managed to choke out.

“He tells me that things are just not right anymore,” she explained, “and they haven't been, either. Even I will admit to that. and just so you know, I never mentioned the man whom I used to know to him once before. But the human intuition is incredible, though. He and I—we talked it over together just this morning—and ever since then I haven't been able to completely process it yet.” She sniffled and Sam held a hand to her chest.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out. To think that her parents had been together for so long at that point as well: it didn't even feel right to her.

“But just—let's keep it between you and me, though,” Esmé advised her. “Unless Marla is really genuinely curious about it. I just—I don't know how else to tell you about this, either, other than straight up over the phone. If you were closer to us, I may have told you sooner before and you may have witnessed it as well.”

“Well, Mom—if it's any comfort at all—I actually might be back out there next summer,” she sputtered.

“Really?” Esmé paused. “What for? What happened?”

“Yeah, my counselor told me that my senior project is taking place out there. Like he planned it ahead of time, out in California, and he told me it's supposed to start like next August. So my junior year will end and then he and I prepare on heading out that way. With this—with hearing this, the one and only pitfall I can think of and see out of that is I'll be away from my friends here.”

“And you've settled into New York City, too,” Esmé added, “you seem so at home there, more so than you do here on the West Coast. But at least your father and I will get to see you again. This is actually something I've disliked about you living so far away from home, if I'm honest. I miss having you around us—and I know Ruben does, too. We both miss you dearly.”

“The other thing about it is I dunno how long it'll be, either,” Sam continued.

“And you'll be far away from Joey, too,” said Esmé in a grim tone of voice.

“I'll be far from Joey, too,” she echoed her.

“But wait, how does he feel about going out West? Maybe he can join you and Bill while you're out here.”

“I dunno—he and I were actually talking about that the other night. It's kind of Cliff was so reluctant to move with me, but Joey's more concerned with money, though. And just like Cliff, he's born and raised here in New York—you know, the whole upstate area where he's from. It's such a homey area, like the direct opposite of New York City in my opinion. You know, New York City is where the world comes to play and figure things out. Upstate is where the world bypasses it because everyone else pitched a tent there. So—I don't really see it, to be completely honest with you, Mom.”

“And it's a grueling task, too,” Esmé added, “you know the struggle the three of us went through three years ago.”

“How could I forget,” Sam quipped. “I was so happy to finally just lay down in bed afterwards.”

“Your father and I were, too, when we were staying at the hotel. I mean, we love New York for sure, and I do especially—in fact—come to think of it, one of the things that's driving the two of us apart is my desire to be back East, closer to you.”

“Really?” Sam pressed her free hand to her hip. “Well, why didn't you say anything before?”

“Well, because your father undertook so much when we were moving you over there. When we got home, Ruben said, 'we're only going over to New York for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I mean no offense to Sam at all, but we seriously can't do this all the time.' He never said anything to you because he didn't know how you would react to it.”

And Sam also thought about the previous conversation they had had before, in which Ruben might not have been her father after all. Indeed, it would also explain as to why she hardly heard anything from him unless the holidays rolled about.

“My publisher is also based out of L.A., too,” Esmé continued. “To make a huge decision such as that, a big grueling move across the family such as that, to move three thousand miles away now would be so frivolous and ultimately fruitless, in my personal opinion.”

“And it just wouldn't make any sense on top of that, anyway,” Sam pointed.

“Right, with you possibly coming out come the summer time as well. It wouldn't be right to me to have you out here for something for school only to have to pick everything up and swap places with you.”

But the news of her parents separating left Sam yearning for something else, something different. She barely paid any attention to anything more that her mother talked about after that; instead she thought of her next drawing. By the time she and Esmé bode each other goodbye for now, she returned to the couch to fetch her things. The lovely feeling she had had before had disappeared with the realization of what happened.

Even though her mother told her not to speak with anyone about it, Marla needed to know about it, and Joey needed to know about it. Aurora had built a home of her own and she hadn't heard anything from her since Alex's birthday party when she made it about herself. Her own best friend and fellow California girl wasn't even around to know about this thing that could alter everything and the world in which Sam knew about from that point onward. Her own best friend and whom she believed was her confidant.

Marla was more trustworthy with the arrival of all of this.

And it was right there that the tears began to fall from her eyes. She sniffled and brushed one away from her right, and she opened her book bag for her journal once again. To the page that followed her birthday drawing to Joey. She tried to keep the tears at bay as she put the first strokes of graphite down on the heavy graphite. But they still streaked down her face as she gave the drawing some dark hair.

Herself as a young child.

She thought about going into her room with the journal, but she had no reason to do so when she had the couch all to herself. She wept for herself and for the fact that she was never returning to childhood. She was never returning to Cliff. Even though she had no siblings to count on, she did feel as though she missed something. There had to be something right next to her all the while, someone else right next to her. She looked over at Genie, who had curled up in her usual spot on the couch.

Her golden eyes closed of the part of the way but she stayed awake.

Careful not to startle her, Sam reached over and petted her head again. She pinched those eyes closed all the way, which in turn made more tears bleed out from Sam's eyes.

She thought about Alex, in how she met him when he was still a young boy in school. He was still a boy to her, but even from a moment's glance, she could tell that he had grown so much in these past three years. The past four years, from when Testament first began life from the suburbs of San Francisco.

Four years since they came to the fold as Legacy, and she was right there when they changed their name. And now she had gotten their very first live album: it awaited her in her bedroom as if it taunted her from the darkness.

A legacy in its own rite.

And she knew that she would be near them once again come the summer time. But she returned to the journal to make that drawing of herself as a little girl. Through her tears, she made more markings that collected into the shape of something new. She had no idea as to how he looked as a child himself, but she knew the little pearl of gray hadn't made its grand entrance yet. That thick jet black hair and those big deep eyes that seemed to swallow her whole, even from the grains of paper, even from the softness of childhood.

She thought about the hug he had given her at his birthday party. Soft like a young boy still.

And yet she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Joey behind. To leave him there in upstate New York to his own devices. But then again, he had that guitar with him, and he had all manner of friends still within range of him, and he had his band as well.

His band.

Scott burst into her mind then, as did Dan Lilker. They had started Anthrax themselves, and yet they both had departed from their places. By some dark magic, Anthrax had become Joey's band almost overnight. He was the heart and soul for sure, but he had come into the fold well after they had started and lifted off of the ground. It wasn't like Alex, who had come into the fold with Testament right after their start and then watched them go forth.

To think Joey had been inherited a whole band from Scott all because of something that he did and something that Scott had dismissed time and time again. Something about it made her squirm in her seat a bit.

Granted, Joey was her boyfriend, and she knew that no matter what happened with Anthrax or with him, that she had to stand behind him on it, something that she had picked up from being with Cliff. But nothing about his position in the band spoke to her about it being his band, however. A stranger in a strange land there when it pertained to him. She couldn't help but compare the whole experience with Testament, either, the other quintet that was still a quintet themselves.

Chuck stood on the stage with his microphone stand and played it like he would a guitar, but at least that was part of the whole deal with them. She hadn't seen him pick up a guitar from someone who was obviously the opposite of him and then go forth with it out of sheer spite. She could hope all she wanted with Joey, but he had to come to his senses about his interaction with Alex at some point in the future. It was only fair to him, and it was only fair to Joey himself.

But on the other hand, she recalled as to how miserable Joey was without a guitar at his helm. She wanted him to be away from the alcohol, away from the drugs. She wanted him to excel as the true genuine artist she knew he was meant to be, that he had tucked away all by the constraint of time itself. He had to continue on with the guitar, and he had to continue on with Anthrax, with them as a four piece rather than a massive quintet like Testament or even Death Angel.

But he also had to come back down to earth. The kindness was within him: she could feel it, and she did in fact feel it with him. To brush away the contradictions like she brushed away tears, and she could perhaps crack the code with him. To dilute his venom like she would with watercolor and paint with it upon her canvas for all the world to see, and so she could say that she had danced with Joey Belladonna and gave him art.

She brushed away more tears as she completed the remainder of the two children on the page before her, the drawing of herself and the drawing of Alex. Two twin children, even though they weren't even a little bit related to one another.

If only there was a way in which she could contact him and not through the fan club only. He had showed to her those fleeting moments, those little nuggets, those glimpses to what resided behind those deep eyes. But much like with Joey, therein resided something more that he wasn't showing her. There was more to Alex than she had given him credit for, and more than Joey had given him credit for.

She then raised her head from the journal and she glanced back at Genie, who had curled up into a tight bun on the top of the couch and went to sleep.

Marla wouldn't be home for at least another half an hour.

She peered out the door to the porch, at the buildings across the street and the sliver of harbor beyond that. So much to New York she hadn't seen yet, and so much she hadn't done yet, but she wanted to do it all right then and there. She could feel the clock ticking, the end of the day coming. The end was upon her, just like how Cliff said it would be when he set out for the last time into Sweden. Beyond the drapes, beyond the veil, beyond the darkness.

To live in the great unknown and only find herself in a single small pinprick of it, but something else called her back. Even though she had pitched the tent herself there in Hell's Kitchen with Marla, the past called her back. The past to make peace with the present and ultimately the future.

Maybe it was in fact time to head on back home after all, but then again she had so much at her every whim and desire. There was no way she could leave now, but she also had to leave. To go with Bill to California and to be there for her mother and her father both as they sorted things out between them, and to find out more of the secrets they had kept from her all these years. Maybe it was time to head on back home, to be closer to her parents.

To be closer to the other side of the scene.

To be closer to Cliff again.

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ahalal-uralma · 4 years

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17 questions 17 people

Tagged by @ulvindem. Thanks!

1. Nickname: Aurora

2. Zodiac: Virgo Sun, Capricorn Moon, Scorpio Ascending. 😌🌟 I am an acquired taste.

3. Height: 5,5 ft or 1,65 cm

4. Hogwarts House: Slytherin

5. Last thing I Googled: History of a vintage paperweight pyramid decor I own. I learned it was made in the 1960’s and is most likely an authentic Egyptian Souvenir.

It’s previous ownership is a complete mystery. I found it in my parents home, but it didn’t belong to either of my parents. Someone else lived under their roof for a couple of years, but they wouldn’t claim ownership, either. They seemed very confused and uncomfortable with it. We were going through a big house clean when I noticed it. I really adore it and keep it on a book shelf. It’s a beautiful brass paperweight with little gold hieroglyphic engravings on all sides.

6. Song Stuck in My Head: Black Kiss by Vandal Moon. I woke up with that song in my head.

7. Number of Followers: 1,111

8. Amount of Sleep: I am fighting chronic sinusitis, so pretty much all day as of late.

9. Lucky Number: 9

10. Dream Job: Writer, Illustrator, Photographer

11. Wearing: Star Wars Shirt and Black Pants. It’s laundry day and I’m sick. This girl isn’t glam today.

12. Favourite song: I am in love with the band Ashbury Heights. I find myself gravitating between songs from their albums “The Looking Glass Society” and “The Victorian Wallflowers” a lot lately. I would recommend ‘Headlights’ and ‘Phantasmagoria’ to anyone who is curious.

13. Aesthetic: Victorian Gothic Fashion (ie. Dark Makeup, Corsets, Gowns, etc), Rouged Lips, Vampire Fangs, Abandoned Mansions, Gothic Cathedrals, French or German Castles, Large Woods/Forests, Storms, Dark and Foggy Atmospheres, Dusk, Stars, Aurora Borealis, 20th Century Paintings or Older, Classical Music (esp. Piano and Violin), etc.

14. Favourite author: Pierre Choderlos de Laclos

15. Favourite instrument: Piano

16. Favourite Animal Noise: Doves 🖤

17. Random: I am learning Brazilian Portuguese.

I´ll tag @obscuredseclusion @hyacinth-meadow @fire---walkwithme @bright-blue-me @grayladyofthewell @stormuir @geniuss-loci @aqua-regia009 @saturniinne @afaceinside @illuminate-the-moon @strange-lights-and-stardust @theatricalbride @azeallia @51893ea @lilith-nocturna @obscuridadeterna

No pressure for you guys to complete this. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. 🖤

#ask #17 questions 17 people #tagged

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kinsbin · 5 years

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The Proposal

Title: The Proposal Ship: Jenna/Julian [Self Insert/Canon] Word Count: 2226 Summary: Julian realizes that Jenna is the love of his life and decides to make his request to spend the rest of his life with her official. Not before he asks Asra and Nadia for a little help setting up the ambiance, however. He hopes the hard work will make her say yes, at least.

A/N: A commission for @aoi-hina! Thank you for your support and giving me the chance to write this sweet/sappy Julian and you fic because my god that man desERVES THE LOVE YOU GIVE HIM.

Julian wasn’t the marrying type.

He liked to use the excuse that he was married to his work, but, that was only half true. His work was more like a common-law, forced living situation over a willing partnership full of love and devotion. While there was love and there was devotion to the deeds he found important, it also left him isolated. Death tolls numbed a man to truly getting close. Teasing his friends and harmless flirting with those he could get near was one thing, certainly, but having those feelings reciprocated and dealt bak at him with full force was something he never expected. Whenever it did happen, of course, he was flustered. He was shocked! Appalled wasn’t the right word but embarrassed? That might be.

Of course, it never did happen until he met HER.

Jenna was...something he wasn’t ready for but also did not know that he needed. That’s how he reasoned it to himself in his mind as he paced around awkwardly in Asra’s shop, waiting for the wizard to appear from the back where he had spoken that he’d be just a moment when Julian initially barged in in a flurry of black leather and dramatic gestures. She had appeared in his life when he had most needed her, growing closer and closer with every passing day until...somehow...she had said that he loved him. And he had said it back.

The memory burned a blush into the doctor’s cheeks as he tried to will away the thought just as Asra appeared from the back room, polishing an empty potions bottle with a stray napkin and a raise eyebrow as his friend who was clearly struggling with something his mind. Trying his best to hide his bemused smile, Asra cleared his throat as an indication of his presence yet again. Julian jumped up in surprise, whirling around with a single wide eye of shock. Asra gave him a nod and tilt of his head.

“Sorry for the wait,” He apologized with ease, “What can I do for you, Julian?”

“Ah yes, well,” Julian cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to make sure his eyes didn’t land with Asra’s as he continued, “Is Jenna here?”

“She left to have tea with Nadia in the palace,” Asra responded with a shrug of his shoulders, “I can leave a message for her if you want-”

He was cut off when Julian came up to the counter that separated them and slammed both of his gloved hands down onto the glass. The drama of it was enough to stop Asra from talking, eyes widening at the display for a moment as Julian leaned forward, eye narrowed as he bared his teeth awkwardly. Something about his energy wasn’t necessarily hostile...just...nervous. Nervous and strange, in its unique Julian way. Asra was never sure if he actually understood what Jenna meant when she had said that it was a strange and readable aura, but, he understood now. Julian practically radiated it as he heaved a sigh.

“No, good, this is good,” He explained, running a hand through his hair, “I need...your help.”

“MY help?” Asra’s facial expression increased in incredularity as he tapped his finger on the counter at Julian’s fingertips, “With what, then?”

“I…” Julian took a deep breath and shut his eyes, the words of admittance burning in the base of his throat like spiced milk, “Want to propose to her.”

“Propose...you want to marry Jenna?”

“And I want to make it PERFECT.”

It was the honesty in his eyes that convinced Asra. He would have to remember to use that line at the two’s wedding party, he realized with a small smirk hidden behind a laugh of amusement and an affirming nod. Yes, he agreed without much hesitation in his tone of voice, he would help Julian. They had some prepping to do first, of course. And a few more people to talk to as well.

---

“I don’t see why I need to go over immediately, Asra,” Jenna’s complaint was only half hearted, closer to a statement than it was a huff or refusal to go as the two walked side-by-side on the streets of Vesuvia, “I visited Nadia not a week ago. I’m sure she doesn’t constantly crave my company. No one does.”

“Julian does,” Asra found himself teasing with a gentle nudge of his apprentice's feelings, “Heavens knows he stops by the shop frequently enough asking about you.”

“He’s my boyfriend, he gets to do that. It makes him feel special. Besides, it’s like...what? Almost ten o’clock. I’m surprised Nadia is even letting him in the castle past sundown.”

“Her trust of him is growing despite your doubts,” Asra chided the girl at his side with a laugh. Jenna smiled back, facing the entrance of the castle doors before them with familiar awe. Asra, however, frowned and looked back, as if perturbed by something. A sudden excuse fell from his lips, a tired admittance of leaving something at the market or needing to talk with someone before he joined them, and then disappearing down the road they came with a request to say hi to Nadia for him. Jenna opened her mouth to protest, but, nothing came out as her mentor vanished as fast as they had arrived, making her pout as the doors swung open to her.

Only...inside was different.

It looked as though Nadia was setting up for a grand ball, the curtains drawn tight to emphasize the light of the chandeliers hanging overhead as they illuminated the gorgeous entryway of the castle of Vesuvia before her. Jenna felt her jaw go slack in awe at the way the lights flickered, illuminating the warm and detailed imagery that hung in tapestries on either side of the drawn curtains. She hadn’t seen this grandiose event since the last masquerade that was for certain, and she felt her heart warm with nostalgia and vague distrust at the situation as she entered further and further into the halls.

“Nadia? Are you there?” Jenna dared to call out nervously as she made it to the center of the open room with a quick glance around, biting her lip as she did so, “Is...something happening? Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? It’s really gorgeous but-”

“Jenna.”

The voice that was decidedly NOT Nadia’s echoed before her. She wasn’t scared, however, as the familiarity of it soaked into the marrow of her bones and made her stand slightly straighter. Her gaze held forward, wide and curious as the beginnings of a smile seemed to rip itself across her lips without much of her permission. Of course it was him behind it, she reasoned with a near laugh in the back of her mind, he would do something like this for her for one reason or another that was for certain.

“Julian,” She spoke slowly as she tilted her head, “Just what is all of this?”

Julian smiled from the top of the stairs that lead down to the room, descending slowly and carefully while taking the time to remove his gloves from his hands. Even from her spot in the darkness of the bottom, she could see his eyes flickering with what almost seemed like nerves. His face was just a little more red than normal and she knew it was most likely from embarrassment over all else. Had he...planned all of this? And for what reason? Her mind swirled with confusion but interest as she watched him finally tuck his gloves away at his side and snap his bare fingers.

The sound brought forth a beautiful set of colors, magic in the candles around the area glowing and cascading like a waterfall of shades. Each one of it danced sweetly across the walls, morphing it into a different hue and shade as they moved. An aurora borealis of unique colors that seemed to shift with her mood. Jenna felt herself gasp at the display as Julian reached her and brushed some hair from her face.

“All of this? It’s for you, of course,” His smirk was soft in its delivery as he took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. Jenna felt herself melt into it, a hum of approval echoing her lips as she shared the quiet moment of public affection with her boyfriend. His hands were so soft in comparison to the coarse leather of his gloves, steady and slow in their movements up and down her body as he brought her closer. After the moment of greeting had passed he pulled away from her until only their hands were holding, to which he gripped firmly and pulled her forward with an almost eager tug.

“Why for me?” She laughed as she complied to his movements, finding herself arily being guided from one end of the room to the other, closer and closer to the back of the halls towards the courtyard of the palace itself, “And why now?”

“Because I love you,” He admitted with embarrassing ease, “And always is a good time to pamper you, I think. Now come along, there’s something I need to show you.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

And then there was silence as Julian pulled her. Jenna couldn’t help but smile and laugh, the acceptance of her patience easy in her mind as she had grown more and more used to Julian’s quirks and requirements time and time again. Sometimes he needed her to be pushy and she would be. Sometimes he needed gentle and she complied. Either way, the surprises he seemed to offer her in their relationship were unique and enjoyable to say the least. Enough so for her to trust him, even in moments like this, as they were moved from one end of the castle to another. Questions floated in her mind, but he hushed her every time she tried to offer one out to him. So, instead, she took his word that he would show her something.

They exited the building, the garden opening itself up to them like something out of a dream. Jenna inhaled sharply at the path before them, lined in the same color-changing candles but ending in a bodega decorated with fairy lights that winked and twinkled almost as beautifully as the stars above them. The full moon was all but perfectly aligned with the top of the structure, its natural light illuminating the flowers and fireflies that danced across the expensive tiles and flowers of Nadia’s home. Jenna felt her heart swell at the sight. She felt tears dare to prick her eyes as, somewhere she could not see, the soft chorus of violin music swelled overhead.

“It’s...God, so beautiful, Julian.” She spoke out through tight throated awe, hand covering her mouth as she missed the gaze he held onto her body with a nod and a hum of ‘yes...it is…’

He glowed under the moonlight as he stopped under the bodega, holding each of her hands in his own as he took a deep breath. The silence that passed was deafening for a second before Julian seemed to find his courage to continue before her.

“I’ve, perhaps, made a false claim in saying that there wasn’t a real reason to why you’ve been brought here, Jenna. In fact, there’s a very real reason.”

“Oh?” She hummed with a quirk of her eyebrow. Julian stared at her, brushing more hair from her face and smiling that sweet smile he always seemed to get when they were alone. The one that made her cheeks heat up as she watched him talk more.

“You’ve put up with me for so long, Heavens knows why...But...I’ll be damned if I don’t selfishly enjoy every minute of it. Every second you're with me and every breath you take at my side...it’s more than I could ever think I deserved or be grateful for.”

He got on one knee, a hand fishing something out of his pocket at Jenna felt her heart fling itself into her mouth. No, she reasoned through a slow accumulating gasp of air, he couldn’t be-.

But he was. For the ring he pulled out was gorgeous in its simplicity. The diamond hugging itself snugly in the silver band was black, smaller blue stones dotting along its edges in a swirling pattern that glimmered in the shared light. Jenna felt the tears finally hit her eyes, falling down from her face as Julian took a deep breath:

“I want to keep you by my side, if you’ll have me...Will you marry me?”

And he was flung on his side by the force of her hug, their lips crashing together in an intensity that made his eyes widen as he tasted the salt of her tears on his lips. Happy tears. Julian couldn’t stop the smile and chuckle that broke as his hands found purchase on her hips. Pulling away, Jenna laughed through her sobs and pressed their foreheads together.

“Yes,” she managed out with a smile, “More than anything, yes. I will marry you.”

Their laughter carried over the music, fading away as the stars twinkled above head, the only witnesses to their agreed union. A perfect harmony.

#self insert #self shipping #self ship #self ship writing #self insert writing #kinley writes #the arcana #julian devorak

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dg-fragments · 6 years

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Two beautiful things

She's a beautiful rose planted to be grown,

Not to be plucked for a vase,

She's known to have withered the storms,

Remained steadfast when all was falling apart in a life's phase.

In her eyes there are lights only if you care enough to see,

There to guide you back home only if you don't flee,

But all you wanted was probably to run away,

From her, a home, you had when possibly you didn't even deserve,

After all those words she spilled for you, you had nothing to say,

How cruel of you I must say, but who am I, a writer in reserve.

She finds love in not the promises of luxuries,

But in little romantic candle light dinners,

She just needed someone to share with, all her worries,

Her heart's a beautiful place of glistening stickers.

Made up of constellations she'd like to think,

In the fairy tales she constructed her own castles,

Wished upon shooting stars, to see the northern lights,

Aurora borealis, her dream,

Perhaps two beautiful things can exist at one time.

- DG

Written as a dedication for @dreamcatcher-777 for #pssecretsanta =')

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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darkjanet2 · 3 years

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Drusilla’s Soul Ch. 17 Part 1.

Los Angeles, Ca 7:15 PM, Wolfram & Hart

A brown-haired man was typing on a computer as he was doing his research. His name was Lindsey McDonald and he was a lawyer of Wolfram & Hart.

He heard a phone beep.

“Mr. McDonald, we have your visitor here. He wanted to speak with you”, said the lady on the intercom phone.

“Send him in,'' he said.

A platinum blonde man walked into his office, he wore a black leather duster, black shirt and pants, and black combat boots. He was in punk style.

“Ah, Spike. It’s great to see you”, said Lindsey.

“ How do I go about hiring you blokes? I’ve got a job that’s right up your street”, said Spike.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“I want to find Drusilla’s whereabouts, she still has a soul and I can use that to my advantage", Spike said.

"Over at Wolfram & Hart anything is possible, but only if you can pay our fee it's a business, not a charity", said Lindsey.

"You get the money, but you get half up front only the rest when the bloody job is done", Spike said.

The brunette man looked at Spike and grinned.

"Sounds like we have a deal then, Mr. Spike," The man said.

"It is a deal as long as we have it clear that you get paid the rest of your money when you finish the job," Spike said.

Spike turned to walk out around the office.

"The money, Spike? Do you believe that Drusilla is a hero?" asked Lindsey, mockingly.

Spike slammed his fist on Lindsey’s desk and yelled, “SHE IS NOT A HERO!!” with his angry vampiric face.

Lindsey calmly smirked, “Alright, calm down.”

Spike calmed down and reverted his human face.

“Now you want to know where Drusilla is, I heard she’s on a mission trip to Japan. But she won’t return and it has been 2 weeks for her mission,” said Lindsey.

“Then I knew she still had a damn soul and always helped people. I want to call up Deacon Frost to remove the soul. I’ll have my minions arrange the ship and I will also contact Angelus.” said Spike.

“Well, perhaps I can call Angelus to invade Japan, and I bet he will terrorize this country,” Lindsey smirked, evilly, and began to call Angelus.

Angelus at The Standard, Downtown LA

Angelus was on the phone and he was told to be prepared to take a trip to Japan, and he knew Drusilla’s whereabouts.

“Alright, I’ll be there.” Angelus hung up his iPhone 11 as naked Darla wrapped around his bare torso, resting her chin on his strong shoulder, caressing his strong arms, kissed his cheek.

“He found Drusilla. She’s at Odaiba,” said Angelus.

“Do they find out?” asked Darla.

“He said that Drusilla was on a mission trip, now we can hunt her down. Deacon will be able to extract her soul and she will work with us together again,” said Angelus.

“What are you planning to do, Angelus?” asked Darla.

“I can make her insane once more. Get dressed, we’ll get a ship.” said Angelus.

The Next Morning Odaiba, Japan 5:34 AM

Drusilla was released from the hospital and got her prescriptions of Zoloft and Opana from the pharmacy. She was at the Dai-Ichi Hotel Tokyo Seafort for a room to stay. She was FaceTiming her friends staying at her house to see how they were doing. Drusilla told them about the situation where evil Digimon attacked the city and she had a battle with LadyDevimon when she tried to kill her, then a beautiful angel arrived in the nick of time and pulverized the demon. The two kids came to rescue her before she blacked out.

“You were in the hospital?! Are you okay?!” shocked Britney.

“I’m fine, my body feels a little sore, but I’m fine. So how are you doing? Did you treat Jade well?” asked Drusilla.

“Yeah, we fed her, groomed her, and played with her. Jade was doing very well,” said Britney.

“That’s great. Where’s David?” she asked.

“Oh, he went to the pet store to buy more cat food,” Britney explained. “So anyway, how long have you been in a coma?”

“About two weeks and I haven’t returned until next month. When I entered the concert, the creatures were called Digimon. Those kids were talking about rampaging the city. The military tried to shoot them down, but they did not affect them. And Matt has a partner named Gabumon, then he took out the strange device and flashed light onto Gabumon, transformed into a metallic wolf!” exclaimed Drusilla.

“No way!” exclaimed Britney.

“Yes, way. Besides, Matt guided me to the safe place to take me to the parking garage. He told me to stay here, but I denied it because I want to help people even if he thought I was a human.” said Drusilla.

“Did you reveal the truth you’re a vampire?” asked Britney.

“No, I don’t want him to know my secret. But he was surprised that I had superhuman strength and I’d had to deal with this LadyDevimon chick,” said Drusilla.

“And did you go vamp?” asked Britney, incredulously.

“Yes, while he was away, two of us started to fight. Fast forward, LadyDevimon was about to finish me off, and it hit something behind her, a beautiful angel appeared in the parking garage and annihilated her. I thought it was crazy, but she saved my life.” said Drusilla.

“I knew this was your guardian angel,” said Britney.

“I know, but I didn’t pray. I think this angel is a Digimon?” asked Drusilla.

“I doubt it,” Britney said. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I thought Japan was pretty cool, but that was crazy that Digimon attacked the city,” said Britney.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, they are rebuilding them right now.” said Drusilla.

“Well, alright. Rest up, Dru. Hope you come back safely.” said Britney, smiled.

“I will. Bye, Britney.” Drusilla hung up her phone, laying down on the bed, and groaned in exhaustion.

“Goddamn, that was the hell of a week! I can’t believe I redeemed myself for starting a battle with LadyDevimon.” Drusilla sighed, sat up from the bed, and walked to the table where the bag of prescriptions lay.

She opened the bag and picked out two vials: Zoloft and Opana. The pharmacist told her to take one pill of Zoloft in the morning and take one pill of Opana in the afternoon. She took out the paper and read it. She followed the instructions and read about the warning and side effects.

Drusilla opened the vial of Zoloft and took one of these pills, it was a blue pill of 50 milligrams in her hand and put it into her mouth, and swallowed it. Then she downed it with Sprite, that pill she swallowed that went through her esophagus.

Suddenly her body and mind felt relaxed, less anxious, less irritable. Zoloft might decrease fear, anxiety, unwanted thoughts, and the number of panic attacks. She had never felt this before, her mind went clear. She could let go of her painful past that Angelus murdered her family, and knowing that Angelus was already dead.

After that, she took a second vial of Opana to treat her severe pain after surgery. She swallowed it and then she downed a Sprite through her esophagus. Now her body felt more relaxed, her pains were reduced. She felt a little wobble, so she went straight to bed and began to sleep to rest up to her body.

In the Digital World

It was cold and snowy out there, even the aurora borealis appeared to be a beautiful color of blue, green, and violet. There was a beautiful ice castle with a castle-like structure of blocks of ice up the mountain. The groups just walked up to the mountain, finding it beautiful, with the green grass on the ground that also had beautiful flowers sticking out. And that's despite having some snowy spots as well. All while in the snowy mountains of the Digital World, which had them wondering how the grass and the flowers were able to grow here. But they didn't dig for answers since it could've been their magic for all they care.

“Where are we?” asked TK.

“I don't know, but this place looks magical, it's so beautiful and romantic, isn't that right, Ken?” asked Yolei, coyly.

“Uh..yeah, sure,” said Ken, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“I wonder what this place is?” said Kari.

“It's an ice castle where the wise Digimon reside,” said Cody.

“How did you know that, Cody?” asked TK.

“Well, there's a board with a description,” said Cody.

“What? Is it some kind of tourist spot?” asked Davis.

“C'mon guys, let's get in standing here won't get us anywhere,” said TK.

They walked up to the mountain and went inside the beautiful ice castle just like a crystal, which had all its doors and walls made of mirrors.

“Whoa... Seeing up close this place is amazing,” said Yolei.

“Yeah, but why does it look so empty and strangely quiet..?” asked Kari.

“Let’s see what the brochure says, it said today is the day of the ice festival so Digimon around here is busy preparing for the palace,” said Ken, holding his chin in deep thought.

“Aah...I see... No wonder why it's so quiet here, but wait a minute, where did you read that?” asked Davis.

“Here, it's on the brochure,” Ken took a brochure out of his pocket.

“What?! A brochure? In a place like this? Is it a tourist spot?” surprised Davis, widened his eyes.

“Yes, is it,” suddenly a voice caught their attention, it was a blue ogre Digimon with unkempt white long hair, pointed ears adored by earrings, a single horn on its head, and an icicle jutting from each of its shoulders. It's known for having its mouth open nearly all the time with an exaggerated lower jaw similar to Violator and has fang-like tusks on its upper jaw like a traditional Oni.

It wore a black loincloth with a belt, black belts on its right arm, nothing on its left arm, blue bandages on its right leg, and black belts on its left leg. It carried an icicle as a weapon. It had a

skull and crossbones on its left arm below its shoulder icicle, metal studs on the knuckles of its left hand, and a scar on the back of its right hand.

“Who are you?” demanded Davis.

“I’m Hyogamon, the guardian here,” said Hyogamon.

“ICE PUNCH!” He attacked them with his powerful fist emitting the icicle coming right at them.

“Look out!!” Davis cried as he and the group dodged his attack, the icicle shards embedded in the glass walls.

“Davis, time to Digivolve!” said Veemon.

Davis nodded and he began to activate the device.

“DIGIARMOR, ENERGIZE!” Davis yelled out.

“VEEMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO…”

The flame engulfed Veemon, imagining Agumon, Greymon, MetalGreymon, and WarGreymon. Veemon grew taller, covered with armor flame-like design, the blade protruding out of his mask, claws, and feet.

“FLAMEDRAMON! THE FIRE OF COURAGE!”

Now the four of them yelled out, “DIGIARMOR, ENERGIZE!”

“PATAMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… PEGASUSMON! THE SOARING OF HOPE!

“GATOMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… NEFERTIMON! THE ANGEL OF LIGHT!”

“HAWKMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… HALSEMON! THE WING OF LOVE!”

“ARMADILLOMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… DIGMON! THE STEEL OF KNOWLEDGE!”

“WORMON, DIGIVOLVE TO… STINGMON!”

“FIRE ROCKET!” He shot fireballs from his fist at Hyogamon with a critical hit, suddenly there were more Digimon who appeared in the castle, an ovoid mirror Digimon was dressed in green robes and hat, and it was wielding a fan. And there were other Hyogamon that appeared in the battle.

“Looks like we’re outnumbered,” said Ken.

“What should we do?” asked TK.

"We should regroup and come up with a plan," said Ken.

“No way!” Davis said as the others looked at him. “We can do this!”

"If they're gaining forces, we must divide their power by separating them from one another." Ken said.

“Ken is right, we have to gain an advantage somehow." said TK.

“I have an idea, what are the digimon ranks? From there we can solidify a plan to separate them." said Kari.

“Good plan.” said TK.

“Enough talk. Let’s see if we can take you on. SNOW PUNCH!” Hyogamon shot a snowball from his fist as Flamedramon threw a fire which caused the snowball to melt.

“ROSETTA STONE!” Nerfetimon flashed a pink light from her back and shot a stone at Mirrormon which the mirror caused to crack.

“SHOOTING STARS!” Pegasusmon fired the stars at the army of Hyogamon and Mirrormon.

“MIRROR’S REVENGE!” It reflected Pegasusmon’s attack, the shooting stars traveled back towards Pegasusmon.

" W-what?!" Pegasusmon said in shock

The shooting stars sliced Pegasusmon as he yelled and fell backward onto the ground. He lied on the ground, with eyes shut, looking hurt.

“Pegasusmon!” TK cried as he ran towards his partner.

“Be careful! They can reflect your attacks!” warned Ken.

“How do we beat them? They’re so many of them!” cried Yolei.

Davis had a bright idea, “Let’s fuse them together so we can beat them.”

The group agreed, their partners de-digivolving and re-digivolving and fusing together to evolve them into another Digimon.

“XV-MON! STINGMON! DNA DIGIVOLVE TO… PAILDRAMON”

“AQUIALMON! GATOMON! DNA DIGIVOLVE TO… SILPHYMON!”

“ANKYLOMON! ANGEMON! DNA DIGIVOVLE TO… SHAKKOUMON!”

“Charge!” Hyogamon shouted to his comrades to charge at them and be prepared to attack.

“DESPERADO BLASTER!” Paildramon fired his machine guns at the army of Hyogamon and Mirrormon.

“STATIC FORCE!” Silphymon fired a static orb and blasted at them.

“KACHINA BOMBS!” Shakkoumon fired clay disks from its waist and all the army was pulverized.

Now the battle was cleared, they ran the path through the corridor, all the Digimon were locked up in a dungeon.

“Hey, travelers! Help us!” cried Penguinmon.

“What happened?” asked Cody.

“We lived in peace in this castle, we were attacked by Hyogomon and Mirromon and taken to the dungeon. And AncientWisemon has taken over the castle,” said Pengimon.

#crossover #buffythevampireslayer #tktakaishi #drusilla #digimonadventure02 #vampires #digimon adventure #mattishida #btvs fanfiction

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everly-kindred · 3 years

Text

Eve’s Diary - Entry #85

Date: 6th of December, 2027

Dear Diary,

Can you believe it’s already December? I can’t. So much has happened in a year… It feels both like it’s been longer than a year, but also that it hasn’t been long enough!

So we had the tree-lighting ceremony, and I think it’s one of my favourite things when the Great Hall is filled with all of the Christmas trees. They look so beautiful! And sometimes they use faeries or special bubbles to decorate the tree, and I love it. I’m still getting the stuff gathered for my Death Day party, but I think my trees will be covered in black decorations and a lot of candles.

We had Hogsmeade weekend, and it was good to go into the village, but I didn’t stay very long. It gets dark super early, and it’s been snowing a whole lot. Blizzards, in fact! So I stocked up on my candy, had some hot drinks, and walked back in the dark. It was a full moon, too, so they wanted us back early anyways for safety and stuff. Oh, I also visited Snitches Get Stitches, and I made some ornaments.

Apparently that thing that fell from the sky is some sort of space thing, a meteorite I think it’s called? And it’s a big mystery. There’s a big beam of light coming out of the forest and into the sky, where it struck. I’ve been drawing it from a tower window, and I want to see it up close, too. No one knows what exactly it is or what to do with it. But I’ve been having weird dreams ever since it landed. They’re fuzzier and harder to read than usual, which I dislike. A lot of them are very stressful dreams about drawing in the darkness of space, while trying to catch stars. Or I’ll be chasing the Aurora Borealis and fall right out of the sky!

In Herbology, we talked about evergreens, which I love. I think Evergreen would be a cute nickname for me, since it’s so close to my real name, but how lame is it to give a nickname to yourself? Anyways, someone mentioned holly, and I talked about how I’d love to have Holly be my name, and then Dana and Marcella both told me they liked my name which made me get all flustered. And then I said that I just like stealing names, like the fae, which is sort of true because I have a big list of names in my journal and I write down more every time I hear one I like.

We had Defense Against the Dark Arts class with MaCauley in the art room. He told us to paint someone we hated, and I don’t really hate anyone, so I started painting Grindelwald from a picture in one of my history books. Aures and I ended up pranking the professor - she bit into an apple and stuck one of my gummy snakes in it, and then he ate it! But he took it really well and actually thought it was funny. We laughed a lot, which was nice, but then some Beauxbatons students started arguing… at? About? Elliott and that made me all anxious, and then we left.

Professor Blightly held dance lessons, which was fun, but I don’t think I’m any better at dancing. I have a hard time with… time? Timing. And I’m already pretty clumsy, so trying to dance in a box is hard. I think I got the hang of it though.

Today, I had lunch with Marigold, and she told me that she didn’t get to do much dancing because of some drama, and I don’t know what that’s about, but I feel bad that I didn’t notice that she wasn’t dancing. We talked about the Yule Ball though, and I think we’re both looking forward to it. I know I am, anyways. Oh, and Lars approached me again, with another Durmstrang student, and asked for a reading. He said he’d give me what I need, which I thought was odd.

But anyways, I read his tarots, and basically the cards said he could be jealous or insecure and have very high standards, is currently triumphing over a victory, but is also beating a dead horse and if he continues he’ll get exhausted. Essentially. There was more to it, but I think both him and the girl he was with understood. They seemed very thoughtful about it, anyways.

After that, there was Hufflepuff Hangout today, and we decorated the tree in our common room. I hung up a little ballerina my mum sent me, and a little nutcracker Marigold transfigured for me to go with it. I also hung up the metal gingerbread-men ornaments I’d made at Hogsmeade weekend.

My birthday is in a couple days. I’ll be 13. Isn’t that weird? I feel like that’s weird. I used to always want to be 13 because that’s how old you can be to get on websites without your parents permission, but I don’t use computers much anymore. Anyways, I’m not sure if I want to do anything for my birthday, because I was planning on waiting ‘till I got home, like I did last year. But since we’ll be stuck at the school… maybe I should do something? Does anyone even know it’s my birthday? Maybe I should talk to Marigold and bake a cake.

That’s about it for me. It’s very grey and dark, and super cold these days. I feel like I’m living in a snowglobe again, but I kind of love it. I feel very inspired. I keep thinking about the Aurora Borealis and faeries in the snow and my phoenix. I’ve been drawing her again, lately. I think winter inspires me for her. I’m probably going to go draw her now.

Or maybe work on a faerie-house. I could ask Dracheblume to let me put it near the forest, so if any faeries get cold, they can hide inside. I also really like flying lately, like, for fun. I want to fly around the castle, but I don’t think I’d be allowed. I’ve been having a lot of dreams about that, too. Flying through the towers at night, while it snows, the moon bright in the sky. Aures and I never did get around to making that hiding place on the roof...

I have things to think about!

Much love, Everly

[ Eve’s Wiki Page ]

[ Flickr ]

#harry potter #hufflepuff #diary #magic #witch #hogwarts #secondlife #second life #mischief managed

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xturtletrashx · 6 years

Text

Devil’s Dance Floor - Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don’t own Uncharted, blah blah blah, you know how it goes. I do own my OCs though and the plot. This fic in its entirety can be read on AO3 here or you can find the other chapters here.

Sorry again for the huge delay between this chapter and the last. Life got crazy af in both good ways and bad.

Graphic and title pic was made by me, all other pics aren’t mine. If one belongs to you, please let me know and I’ll either credit or remove.

Chapter 15 - Crushed Beneath Her Wave

Sam had always sworn that he wasn't any good at relationships. They were too much work and always seemed to come with excessive amounts of drama and bullshit and a particular lack of freedom that Sam had never been able to stomach. It had always been much easier to just find someone warm to spend a night with, or someone interested in nothing more than a week long fling, and if he was really itching for some company there were hookers in every city the world over if one knew where to look. In comparison, the payoff of a relationship had never really seemed worth it.

Yet, in the months since Simone had returned from France, since Sam had decided that this was, indeed, worth the payoff, the two had settled into a relationship and this new version of normal was something Sam found himself surprisingly comfortable with.

Simone had given up her room at the main castle, instead moving into Sam's little cabin where she'd slowly taken over. Her clothes hung in the closet, a brightly colored contrast to his earthy-toned plaids and denims, and her jewelry and tiny bottles of nail polish had taken up residence on the dresser. In the shower, her shampoo and body wash lined the wire racks, nestled next to the more masculine soap that Sam prefered.

After so long in prison though, Sam was used to sharing his space and while the box of tampons in the medicine cabinet had given him momentary pause, it was easy to fall back into the habit of cohabitating. He just couldn't bring himself to mind this invasion of personal space any more than he minded the way she wrapped herself around him when they climbed into bed for the night.

In short, it all felt right.

"Hey Simone?" Sam started as he stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel.

"Ja?" she answered, her voice carrying through the small cottage and through the open bathroom doorway.

"So after we find Avery's treasure," Sam continued, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping up to the sink to wipe away the condensation that had fogged the mirror. "Where do you want to go?"

There was a beat of silence, then, "Like, where in th'world?"

"Yeah," Sam prompted. There was a can of shaving cream on the edge of the sink and he squeezed a dollop into the palm of his hand, smoothing the lather across his throat. "We'll be rich, so we can go anywhere you want."

Simone chuckled, "Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

"Hm . . ."

Razor in hand, Sam took a step back from the sink, craning his neck until he could see her through the open doorway, perched on the couch with Vriend curled up next to her. She had one bare foot propped on the coffee table as she painted her toenails lime green, her lower lip snagged between her teeth as she considered his question.

"Iceland."

Sam blinked. "Iceland? Really?" He'd expected some place tropical and warm, bright and breathtaking--

"I want to see the Northern Lights," she explained further and it all made sense. Of course she did.

"Okay," he readily agreed, turning his attention back to the mirror. He'd never been to Iceland and there was no doubt that the Aurora Borealis was something to see before you died. He ran the razor along his throat, stopping just shy of the short beard he'd decided to grow for the winter. He could probably keep it a while longer if they went to Iceland . . .

"Where d'you wanna go?" Simone asked, stepping into the doorway and leaning one shoulder against the jamb.

"New Orleans," Sam answered without hesitation, his eyes going to Simone's reflection in the mirror. Fuck, she looked beautiful. Her pants were snug leather - slick and begging him to touch - and the shirt she wore was shimmery gold, plunging in the front and distinctly lacking in a back, held in place by delicate chains.

"To see your brother."

He pulled his eyes from the taut expanse of tanned belly and he found her watching him with a knowing look on her face. He nodded. "Yeah, to see my brother."

She nodded in return, pushing away from the wooden frame and stepping into the bathroom on freshly decorated feet. "We can do that." She came up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist and her body warm against his back, then pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder. "I'd like t'meet him."

"You will," Sam assured her, automatically. He rinsed the razor under the water, absently running a hand over his throat in a distracted search for any missed prickles, but his mind was occupied by thoughts of Nate and Simone meeting. Nate would like her, Sam knew. His brother would appreciate her lust for adventure and her sense of humor and they'd likely band together to tease Sam mercilessly . . .

And maybe it would happen sooner rather than later. Could he convince Simone to abandon Nadine and Rafe and, instead, take their clues to Nathan? It was a question that Sam still couldn't answer and was, frankly, afraid to ask. It wasn't like they actually had any clues, either.

"What're you--?" Sam laughed, pulled back to the here and now by Simone ducking under his arm and pushing her way between himself and the sink. She peered up at him with the sort of smile that made his knees weak and his dick throb, her hands working free the towel at his waist.

"What am I what?" she asked, letting the towel fall to the floor and reaching to wrap a hand around him. "Oh, is this a problem?" She grinned, "D'you want me to stop?"

Sam's chuckle was just a bit breathless and he shook his head, reaching out without looking to push the door closed. "Not a chance in hell."

With insurances that they wouldn't be interrupted by a curious puppy in place, Sam's attention went completely back to the woman in front of him, his still-damp hands eagerly popping open the button on her pants. It was erotic, the feel of the leather beneath his palms, the way the material almost seemed to sigh as the button released . . .

He helped boost her onto the sink, taking half a step back to free her legs and toss the undoubtedly expensive pants aside, then he was pressing between her thighs again and peppering her neck and chest with hungry kisses.

It had taken a trip to the clinic in Edinburgh and a full STD screening for Simone to agree to tossing aside the condoms but, in Sam's opinion, the ordeal had been entirely worth it. Neither of them were harboring any diseases in their loins and Simone's birth control took care of the pregnancy factor, which meant that impromptu moments like this didn't have to be interrupted and both of them could enjoy sex without the latex barrier.

"We'll be late," Simone helpfully pointed out, but made no move to stop him as Sam slipped inside of her with only the slightest resistance, prompting the most delicious gasp from her lips as his length filled her.

God, she was always so wet. "Don't care," Sam answered, hands grasping her ass firmly and pulling her closer to the edge of the sink.

"Neither do I," she admitted with a laugh and a welcoming roll of her hips.

Being the one with the better leverage, Sam took most of her weight as Simone braced herself on the sink, clumsily knocking the shaving cream and the razor to the floor with a clatter as she wrapped her legs around his hips. The scent of her hair and her sex filled his nose, an intoxicating mix that spoke to the simpler parts of his brain - those parts that fed the need to cover her in his scent, to fill her with his cum, before going to ring in the New Year with her Shoreline co-workers. Simone was his, those primal instincts screamed, and he wasn't above reminding every single one of them of that fact. And that included Rafe, whose jealousy was a very real and very ugly thing that Sam had no issues with antagonizing.

Simone's arms were trembling as she held herself steady on the sink and with every thrust of his hips, her breasts bounced under the silky thin material of her shirt. She was driving him wild just by being herself, filling his ears with moaning encouragement, and when he slipped a hand between them to rub his thumb over her clit, her gasps neared a fever pitch and she came with a bucking of hips.

"God, you're so fuckin' sexy," he ground out, pulling her closer with arms wrapped around her waist. Simone's hands grasped at his shoulders, sliding up the back of his neck and drawing his face down to breathe in her scent there behind her ear . . .

The world fell away and in that moment, pressed against Simone, with the aftershocks of his orgasm trembling his muscles, Sam felt a moment of absolute clarity. This was what was important. This woman leaving trails of soft kisses along his neck and shoulder, her heart thumping against his chest, beating in time with his own, and Sam found his mouth opening and words passing his lips: "Will you marry me?"

Was it surprise that had Simone going very still in his arms, her breath catching softly in his ear, or was it happiness? Sam pulled back, his hands coming up to cup her face as he studied the angle of her eyebrows, the way her painted lip trembled . . .

It wasn't the expression he'd expected and Sam found his own eyebrows drawing down in confusion and dismay and maybe bit of regret that he wasn't quite ready to indulge. "Simone?"

She was nodding though, small motions that caused her curls to bounce around her shoulders, brushing against his fingers. "I want to," she said. "Oh god, Sam, I do. I just . . ." Her eyes drifted away from his face, searching around the bathroom for the words to express herself. "We will."

Her words weren't reassuring and Sam swallowed past the lump in his throat, his stomach a nervous pit of nausea and roiling bile. "So let's do it then," he suggested, forging intrepidly ahead. "Why wait? Simone, we can fly anywhere, tonight, and be married by tomorrow. We can start the new year as Mister and Missus Drake - for real."

She shook her head, emotion fading from her features. She no longer looked panicked, as if she might run or burst into tears, but the all-business set of her jaw didn't do much to smooth Sam's own frayed edges. "No, Sam," she said gently. "That's not what I want, baby. I want a . . . a big wedding. I want our friends there; Nadine and . . . and Nathan . . ." She ran her fingertips gently over his beard as she met his eyes, "I want a white dress and, I dunno, bridesmaids or whatever . . ."

Sam blinked, surprised by her words. "Really?" Simone was spontaneous, adventurous, the type to chase her whims and let the chips fall where they may; she wasn't the Big White Wedding type - the planning type. "Okay," he reluctantly agreed, nodding slowly. "If that's what you want."

"It is," Simone assured him, her face breaking into a smile. "And, jus' so we're clear, the answer is yes, Sam. I will marry you."

***

It had always been a struggle for Simone to exercise self control, being far too impulsive, as her father had always been quick to criticize. She'd gotten better with it as she's grown older; sniping was a lesson in patience and had taught her to wait until the time was right before pulling the trigger, but in her everyday life, Simone often wrestled with that notion.

Truth was, she didn't want a white wedding or flowers or even a big dress. Truth was, she would marry Sam in an instant and she didn't care if it happened on a beach or at a petrol station, whether it was just the two of them or whether they were surrounded by friends and family. As long as they were together, their hearts and souls bared to each other, it would have been good enough for Simone. But there was no way they could marry now; maybe someday but certainly not tomorrow.

So she'd lied - again - because she could hardly tell the man she wanted a future with that she had already said I do or that he'd have to wait for her current husband to die before they could legally marry. She'd locked onto that self control with deadly efficiency, gone through the motions of getting dressed, finishing her make-up, walking up to the main castle with her fiance´, getting them drinks, making small talk with the other contractors . . . and through it all she'd smiled and laughed and pretended, for all the world to see, that her lies weren't completely eating her up inside.

She couldn't keep it up forever though and her tension was growing with every passing minute that crept them closer to midnight and the New Year it heralded. She felt as if she were crawling out of her skin, annoyed by the small crowd of contractors who'd stayed in Scotland for the holiday season, nervous about the amount of alcohol flowing and her own tension was only amplified by Sam's. He didn't like these sort of crowds, she'd learned, especially made up as it was by Shoreline contractors. It's too easy for it to get out of control, he'd explained when she'd asked. To turn into a riot. She'd argued that twenty drunk Shoreliners were hardly enough to constitute a riot, but he hadn't budged, only explained further that twenty men could cause a lot of damage.

She'd thought it was silly, maybe a bit paranoid, but she hadn't pressed the issue. This time though, this time, she understood. There was something in the air, as if the entire night were holding its breath . . .

"Are you okay?"

Simone's eyes darted to Sam, "What? Ja, I'm fine."

His eyebrows lowered, "Are you sure? D'you want to leave?"

Oh god, did she ever! "I really would love to. I 'ave a headache," she lied, leaping at the chance to make their escape. "Let me just find Nadine and let'er know?"

"Yeah, okay," Sam agreed, obviously relieved that she was game for cutting out early. "I'll get the coats."

It only took a minute of searching to find Nadine in the library, her face set in a mask of dubious amusement as Sergei drunkenly regaled her with a tale of one of his often embellished stories, and only another moment for Nadine to take one look at her and determine that something was wrong.

"What is it?" Nadine asked without preamble.

Simone's lips pressed together, but her sister's steady gaze had her resolve wavering. "Can I talk t'ya?"

Nadine was nodding, reaching out to wrap an arm around Simone's shoulders and usher her toward the nearest doorway.

***

When his evening had started, Rafe had been in a decent mood. Tired from his flight in from New York, maybe, but he'd been ready to laugh and celebrate, to start the New Year off on the right foot because this was the year he'd find Avery's treasure. They were close, he could feel it in his bones, and it was only a matter of time before one of these clues panned out.

That good mood had been steadily declining with every sip of scotch he'd downed, annoyed by every moment he had to spend watching Sam and Simone in each others company. It wasn't something he was normally witness to, these acts of affection, being that he rarely spent time with the two of them together. In fact, he and Simone had barely exchanged more than a handful of words since the last time he'd cornered her in the hallway.

Still, it was easy enough to recognize her voice as Rafe hesitated just outside the Smoking Room door, his ears picking up bits of whispered conversation:

"When?"

"Tonight. While we were gettin' ready to come up 'ere. He just . . . asked."

Nadine's sigh drifted through the open doorway, "Simone, you 'ave to tell him."

"Nadine, I can't. He'll be so mad . . ."

"You 'ave to. If you want to 'ave a chance at marryin' him, then you 'ave to tell him everything."

Rafe's lips parted and despite the buzz of intoxication he quickly put the pieces together, realizing that Sam didn't know about Simone's husband. At first the notion seemed preposterous - didn't everyone know that Simone was married? - but then when did Sam ever willingly communicate with the Shoreline contractors? He always seemed to avoid them as often as he could and every conversation Rafe had been witness to had been painfully impersonal. Could he really blame any of those guys for not wanting to be the one to spill the beans to their boss's sister's lover?

On the heels of that surprise came indignant anger thumping hot through his veins, but he wasn't sure if that anger was directed at Simone, for lying to Sam for so long, or at Sam for wanting to marry her at all. Rafe's lips twisted into a bitter snarl. Why did he even care? Sam had made it clear that he wasn't interested . . .

Rafe had never dealt well with rejection though and that embarrassment had his resolve hardening and his vision narrowing as he drained the last of his Scotch, set the glass on the edge of the billiard table, and set off to find Sam.

***

With jackets in hand, Sam wound his way through the small crowd, skirting around a table where two contractors had set up an impromptu game of Quarters and keeping an eye open for Simone's familiar shape. Instead, he found Rafe.

Sam would've had to be an idiot to miss the way Rafe's mood had grown steadily more sour, the frown lines between his eyebrows deepening with every passing hour, and Sam's plans to avoid the other man for the rest of the evening were quickly waylaid. Rafe was headed straight for him, with his face set in a determined glower and his eyes ringed in the faintest blush of red, and Sam found tension knotting his shoulders with every step that brought them closer. Something was wrong.

"Did everyone hear the good news?" Rafe asked, his voice rising over the buzz of voices and easily drawing the attention of those near them.

Sam drew to a stop, his stomach twisting in apprehension as Rafe's eyes locked on him. There were a million announcements that a rich man could make to a crowd on New Year's Eve but Sam knew that whatever came out of Rafe's mouth next wouldn't have anything to do with a merger or an acquisition or whatever-the-fuck else.

And Sam was right.

"Tonight, my dear friend, Samuel Drake, asked Simone Ross to marry him."

The words were mostly met with silence - with the exception of a rude and incredulous chuckle from someone - and though Sam's eyes may not have left Rafe, he could feel the contractors' gazes settle on him. The sudden attention had Sam's teeth clenching, his hands tightening around the jackets he held and he opened his mouth to tell Rafe, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off--

But Rafe shook his head and let out a chuckle, holding up one hand, "Oh wait, wait. Did I say Simone Ross? Of course, I meant Simone Mthembu. It's been a long time since she was a Ross." He glanced around, as if suddenly confused, "Or, was she ever a Ross? Where's Nadine? She'd know."

Confusion had Sam's brows lowering, his face burning, and he chanced a glance around him. Everyone was watching him, their expressions ranging anywhere from sympathetic to amused, but Sam hadn't the slightest clue what Rafe was talking about and there was no hiding it. "Rafe . . ." he started, warning clear in his voice.

"Whatsa matter, Samuel? She never told you about her husband?"

Sam's heart was suddenly hammering, beating a frantic tattoo against his ribs as they constricted and for a painful second, he swore his entire chest was caving in. He couldn't breathe, his face burning with embarrassment as his brain persistently refused to make sense of what was happening around him. He was still dimly aware of the eyes on him, the murmur of voices surrounding him - … 'he didn't know' ... 'she never told him…' - but all he could see were Rafe's lips twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes lit with dark amusement as he continued: "She never told you that she married a rich old prick for his money? That she's just one of three wives? Her husband is soaked in so much blood that he makes the rest of us look squeaky clean . . ."

It wasn't true. It had to be a lie. It was just Rafe - petty and jealous Rafe - trying to hurt him because in his tiny, twisted, brain he thought that Sam should have chosen him instead . . .

"Did she tell you that I asked her to keep an eye on you? That she only fucked you because I asked her to?"

"Rafe, shut up!"

Simone's voice cut through the sound of blood rushing in Sam's ears and his eyes snapped to her familiar figure as she pushed her way through the small crowd. Her face was flushed with anger, her balled fists trembling, but it was the shine of tears in her eyes that had Sam taking a step back in desperate retreat.

It was a small movement but Simone reacted to it as if it were a physical blow, her shoulders falling and her mouth opening. "Sam, I--"

And there was a part of him that wanted to comfort her, to reach for her and draw her into his arms so he could smooth the sorrow from her brow and kiss the frown from her lips, but those tears and the regret that etched her features told him all he needed to know. Rafe wasn't lying.

"He needed to know the truth, Simone!" Rafe insisted.

"Shut the fuck up, Rafe!" Sam heard Nadine snap, but he was already turning and walking away.

Sam still held both his jacket and Simone's, forgotten in his hands, but he'd heard enough and the sudden need to get away from the stifling press of bodies, the feel of eyes on him, had him moving with single-minded determination. He needed air. He needed a cigarette. He needed to get as far away from his fiance' as possible because fuck Simone. Fuck her lies and her bullshit stories, fuck her smile and her freckles, and the way she made him feel complete . . .

The frigid Scotland air stole whatever breath remained in Sam's lungs as he pushed his way through the door and into the night. There was snow beneath his booted feet but above him the sky was clear and sparkling with stars and Sam slowed, chin tipping up as his eyes automatically sought out the constellations. Cassiopeia, the beautiful and vain Queen of Ethiopia, forever chained to her throne in punishment for angering Poseidon . . .

"Sam?"

With his head tipped back, Sam allowed his eyes to drift closed - perhaps so he wouldn't be tempted to look at the woman behind him or maybe so the tears would stay where they were meant to be. "It's all true." It wasn't a question, the words spoken with a calm sort of resolution.

"Yes," Simone answered, her voice so soft that he nearly turned to look at her.

"Were you gonna tell me?"

"I meant to," she admitted. "I tried so many times but" - her voice broke on a shivery sob - "but I was so scared t'lose you that every time I tried the words wouldn't come . . ."

Sam's eyes blinked open and he turned to find her standing with her arms crossed, her bare skin prickled with goosebumps and her breath fogging in the cold. There were mascara tinted tears on her cheeks, her eyes shining with moisture yet to be shed, and she looked so lost and alone that he found himself stepping closer and holding out her jacket so he wouldn't pull her into his arms instead. So he wouldn't forgive her.

Simone reached for it, wrapping it around her shoulders as she swore, "I'll tell you everything, Sam. Every little bit - I promise."

His hand fell back to his side and he shook his head, anger tightening his features. "Save it, Simone," he ground out. "I've heard enough." And for the second time that night, he turned away from her and walked away.

#Devil's Dance Floor #my writing #uncharted 4 #sam drake #simone #samone #OC

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deputyxjones-blog · 7 years

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CLARA JONES // Muses

Clara Oswald, Doctor Who

“What happened?” “Same thing that happened to you. I let Clara Oswald get inside my head. Trust me, she doesn’t leave.”

Maya Hart, Girl Meets World

“Do you remember the night the thunder shook the apartment? I was five and I thought---the lightning was so bright, I thought the world was on fire. I'm all under my covers crying and you come flying into the room and peek under the covers and decide to make it a game. We were in Alaska looking for gold. And you said the lightning was the Northern Lights. The Aurora Borealis. You made that entire night an adventure until the storm passed. And I woke up the next morning and it was a sunny day. Don't you remember that?” "No, Maya, I don't.” "That's because it never happened. The storm happened but you didn't.”

Ria Torres, Lie To Me

“When someone bashes you around, who’s twice your size, just whenever he feels like it, you learn to read emotions pretty fast. We adapt to survive. Your abuse made you a natural. He made you what you are.” “Well, I’ll be sure to thank him.”

Kate Beckett, Castle

“What are you doing?” "Just waiting for my partner. Maybe you've seen her. Pretty girl, thinks she can leap tall buildings in a single bound, carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet still manages to laugh at some of my jokes.” “She sounds like a handful.” “Tell me about it.”

Kate Bishop, Marvel

"This is Kate Bishop. Kate took over for me as Hawkeye once upon a time when I was… well, dressing up like a ninja, sort of, is the short version. She is without a doubt the finest and most gifted bowman I’ve ever met but she’s like nine years old and spoiled rotten. She’s pretty great."

Erin Lindsay, Chicago PD

“Everybody deserve a second chance. That’s what it said on the coffee shop chalkboard this morning.”

Kitty Winter, Elementary

“How you feel shouldn't be her problem. After everything that happened to me, all my relationships were different. My family and my friends, they were just trying to help, but the look on their faces... It just reminded me that it had happened. It was one of the reasons that I wanted to start over. I know I haven't been here very long, but I do know that perception matters. If she doesn't want to look weak, then she shouldn't have to.”

Betty Cooper, Riverdale

“You've made a grave error, little girl.” “No, I don't think so. And I'm not gonna stop until I prove it.”

Daisy “Quake” Johnson, Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“That's the thing about Skye. What I told her shattered her world. Her lifelong search led to stories of murder, and now it's too difficult to continue. Her search is over. Her story ends here. But you know what she said?” “Tell me.” “She said no---her story started here. Her whole life, she thought she wasn't wanted, that she didn't belong, that every family that took her in didn't want her to stay, didn't care. But all that time, it was S.H.I.E.L.D. protecting her, looking after her. That's what she took away from the story---not the family she'll never have, but the one she's always had. Here I am, telling her something that could destroy her faith in humanity, and somehow she manages to repair a little piece of mine. The world is full of evil and lies and pain and death, and you can't hide from it. You can only face it. The question is, when you do, how do you respond? Who do you become?”

[inspired by x]

#edit ;;

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goellasarah · 7 years

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Maybe all of these years apart are just wrinkles in time on our way to the seven wonders. your strong hands fit for Olympus on the small of my back. and Aurora Borealis can’t light up like the wonder in our eyes we will tend to flowers on the window sills so breathtaking everyone will question their existence The lighthouse to guide you home during the wicked hurricanes you have faced can share my name We are two corners of a pyramid pointing towards to stars refusing to be knocked down or taken apart Artemis will tell us that each time we faced oblivion only brought more happiness and more growth Our smiles will be so bright and warm they could set the world a blaze I want to build you high and strong protection like a fortress made to safely keep what is inside. after they tear you down, and they will, we will build a castle from what is left of you and make it a place to rest our weary feet. -they will learn of us someday, you and I.

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kes-au · 4 years

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Tunnels & Dragons - 2

This time when she looked up though, Marcus wasn't giving her his usual gently teasing grin, he was gaping in shock. "Sariya, what? Why? How?" He noticed Mav, "First? What?" The dragon stretched and resettled, "My name is Mav, you no longer need to address me by my hatching order." "WHAT!?!?! No, wait, Mav? Is that short for something? Sariya did you just name my dragon?" "YOUR dragon?" "Well, yes." "And since when have graduate finance students possessed dragons?" "Um, since they attached themselves to my family about twenty generations ago and won't leave off." "You're exaggerating prince, it's only been ten generations." Sairya didn't quite know where to start with that statement, "Generations? PRINCE?" Marcus grimaced, "It's sort of complicated, maybe we should find somewhere to sit down." Another dragon, clearly related to Mav, but coloured like an Arctic sky at midnight landed hard on Marcus's shoulder, "Incoming! If you don't want to spend the rest of the day discussing frills with Lady Areliana, you might want to disappear fast." Marcus swore, grabbed Sariya and ducked back into the tunnel. "I just got out of here." "Please Sariya, please, pretend none of us are here, we're all logs, or stones or something." He pulled them both around the corner, out of sight, just as a trilling voice called out, "Hellooo, I thought I heard voices, did I hear something? Was it the flowers?" Sariya caught Marcus's eye, he silently begged her not to give them away. She rolled her eyes and moved as quietly as she could further into the passage. She felt, rather than heard his sigh as he moved to follow her. They made their way back toward Sariya's sitting room and eventually emerged, each wearing a dragon, from between the book cases. Once they were clear of the entrance, Marcus motioned as if he were pulling a pair of curtains together and the book cases merged back into their whole form as if the passage had never been there. Of course, his presence, as well as that of the two dragons indicated otherwise. "So, complicated?" Marcus pushed his hand through his hair, something he only did when seriously unsettled. Sariya wasn't entirely happy that she knew that, it implied she spent far too much time paying attention to him. She busied herself putting the frying pan and other adventure aids away. "Yeah, and fairly unbelievable if you're not willing to believe in alternate worlds, portals and magic in general." "Well, since I've just walked out of a non-existent passageway behind my books, with a dragon draped around my neck, colour me convinced." He smirked, "Oh, before I completely forget my manners, Saryia, please let me introduce you to Flutter Prettyby. Youngest hatchling of the current royal dragon batch and named by Lady Areliana." "I'm sorry, what?! But that's just wrong. Flutter Prettyby for a creature who clearly should be all about solstices and ancient magic? That's a travesty." She gulped, "I'm sorry, that was dreadfully rude." The midnight dragon shrugged, "No, merely observant. Marcus, why did you hide this treasure from us when we were being invaded by fluffies?" "I'm sorry, I was trying to keep my two lives separate as I didn't think they were compatible. In fact I've no idea quite how they've just managed to converge." Sariya looked at him blankly, "Don't expect me to have answers, a passage suddenly appeared where my books used to be, what was I supposed to do, ignore it? Heaven only knows what might have come through. And then, when I went to investigate, a dragon dropped on my head." Marcus focused on Mav who tried to look nonchalant. "You kept disappearing into the tunnel and warding it, so I decided to look while you were away. The exit kept blurring so I asked it to fix on your favourite part of your destination and it opened up where Sariya said." Marcus blushed. "Um, since we seem to have a little bit of time, perhaps you could explain your name.", he glanced at Sariya, "Yes I'm stalling but I really need to get my brain in some sort of order or it'll never come out in a way anyone can understand." Mav stretched in a smug way, "I encountered Sariya unexpectedly, but on meeting her realised she was of more value and resource than all your fluffies put together. Since we'd initiated a mind bridge, I took a chance and informed her of her right as my first non-family link to name me." "Hang on, as what?" "There's some sort of magic compulsion that means, unless you reject the invitation, the first human, other than the royal family, a dragon has a mind-to-mind conversation with is honour-bound, and magic-bound, to give them their name. Unfortunately for Mav's clutch-mates, our nobles are very well-versed in how to start those conversations and all the other dragons have been hauled in by high-born bubble brains with an ambition to be queen." "Now Mav, what is that short for?" "My full name is Drone Maverick and I like it a great deal, Sariya's mind images when naming me were highly satisfactory." Marcus frowned in thought, "Okay, clearly not bee related. Oh, nice! Flying observers, with weapon capability, but one with a mind of it's own. Beautifully named Sariya!" The midnight dragon looked rather morose, "I know it's not going to change anything but, if by some chance you had the naming of me, what would you choose?" Sariya blinked, "Um, well, going purely on your appearance, I'd go for something like Aurora, you know, like the Northern Lights - Aurora Borealis. And then you came to warn us about danger, which is maybe a bit like an oracle." Marcus started, "How did you get that? Flutter Prettyby has occasional flashes of pre-cognisance." "I don't know, but my name preference would be Aurora Delphi, after Apollo's oracle at Delphi." The dragon in question arched back as if in pain and then tightened its grip around Marcus's neck and began to cry. "Oh dear, no, what did I do? I should never have said anything. It was tactless and completely out of line." Marcus looked at her wonderingly, "No, you just did the impossible. The brilliantly, wonderfully impossible. You've renamed a dragon, I can feel the change." "Yes! Flutter Prettyby always itched, it never sat as it should. When you said my name, it was like the old one was levered out and my true name was able to settle in and it fits perfectly. Thank you, thank you. I hadn't realised how much it hurt until it was gone." Mav darted up, excited, "Maybe she could rename the others as well! It would be worth a try, Rainbow Wings is in agony and the other two aren't much better." Marcus looked pained, "Bad names hurt you? Why didn't you say something? We could have protected you better." "We never knew it was possible to be renamed. This information needs to go to the forebears. It will change a great deal." They all looked over at the bookcase, and paused. "Maybe a cup of tea first, and you can explain how you managed to find yourself living two lives in two different worlds." "I'm not entirely sure I can but I promise to try and work out something sort of coherent while the kettle boils." A few minutes later, properly fortified with tea and ginger nuts, they sat on the sofa and Sariya wedged herself comfortably against the arm so she could watch a slightly more relaxed Marcus marshal his thoughts. "Okay, it all comes back to that passage. I was exploring the woods behind the castle a few years ago and came across a cave. Naturally I had to explore, and the passage dumped me out in the library of the university. It seems to like books for some reason." "It was terrifying but fascinating and I came back, and back and was able to pick up more information all the time, I think something allowed me to absorb basic survival information so I wasn't taken in by the authorities for being a lunatic. I was able to produce important papers when needed and the more time I spent here, the more I wanted to find out. We don't understand the movement of money and the motivations behind it at home, so studying behavioural economics and finance is giving me a huge leg up on all our trading partners, plus I enjoy it. And I also met some really amazing people that I want to send more time with." Marcus flushed again. "I'm pretty sure you glossed over a lot there but I'll run with it. I had you pegged as a foreign exchange student when you first started class, but then decided you were just from another part of the country after a few weeks so I'll vouch for the absorption thing. Now what about these poor dragons and their awful names?" Marcus shifted uncomfortably, "It's one of those tradition things that's at the stage it's doing more harm than good." "Clearly." "As I said earlier, the gemscale dragon clan that Mav and Aurora Delphi belong to, by the way do you have a short form of that?" "Rory maybe? Del doesn't feel quite right." The newly dubbed Rory purred approvingly. "Nice. Anyway, one of the key elements of the association is that each member of the clutch bonded to the heir connects with a suitable potential partner for either diplomatic alliance or marriage purposes, usually marriage. The problem is, our so charming noble families think they've figured out how to force the connection and I now have a clutch of dragons in a pain I didn't know they had, connected with the shallowest, most avaricious young women of the kingdom." "So if I've just named one or now two of your bonded dragons, does that mean I'm supposed to be in the running to marry you?" "Well, um, only if you want to, and we don't have to, but we'd need to have some sort of diplomatic tie or something." "Does going out with each other count?", It was Sariya's turn to go pink. Marcus grinned, "Oh absolutely, when can we start?" "Should we make a discreet exit somewhere at this moment?" Sariya wasn't sure which dragon had spoken, she thought it may have been Rory, but was a needed, if unwanted reminder of the situation at hand.

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zolganif · 5 years

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Have you ever...

Held a parrot? Held a snake? Touched a worm? Took a ferret out for a walk? Took a dog out for a walk? Had more than 3 pets at a time? Had more than 5 pets at a time? Had a pet bird? Had a pet cat? Had a pet dog? Had a pet ferret? Had a pet horse? Had a pet hamster? Had a pet insect? Had a pet iguana? Had a pet mouse? Had a pet rabbit? Had a pet rat? Had a pet snake? Had a pet tortoise? Had a pet water creature (crab, goldfish etc)? Had a pet rock or something else odd? Had a pet not listed? Stood on a cat’s tail by accident? Nearly tripped over a little dog? Been bitten by a dog? Been scratched by a cat? Been attacked by any animal? Been to the vet’s? Been to get your pet put down? Found a stray dog or cat? Nursed an animal back to health? Had a butterfly land on you? Had a ladybug in the palm of your hand? Put your hand in a spider’s web? Done bird watching? Been dog racing? Been horse racing? Rode a camel? Had your pet have a litter of little ones? Been stung by a wasp? Been bitten by a mosquito? Walked through a flower garden and took in the smells/sights? Picked a fresh rose? Picked a fresh flower of any sort? Made daisy chains? Made daisy bracelets? Done the buttercup test (under the chin)? Bought someone flowers? Been bought flowers? Done gardening? Been out in a thunderstorm? Been out in a snowstorm? Been out when there has been hailstones? Been out when it’s below -1*C/30*F? Been out when it’s been about 40*C/104*F? Been in a heatwave? Been out in 100mph winds? Been out in 120mph or more winds? Seen a waterfall? Seen the solar eclipse? Seen the lunar eclipse? Seen the aurora borealis? Sat and watched a sunset start to finish? Sat and watched a sunrise from start to finish? Been on a high mountain? Dove deep in the sea? Swam in the sea? Rode a boat? Been on an airplane? Been on a boat? Been on a train? Been on a tram? Been on a helicopter? Rode in a taxi? Been in a fireman’s truck? Been in a police vehicle? Had a ride in an ambulance? Learned First Aid? Got advanced First Aid knowledge? Seen someone have a seizure? Been there when someone had a heart attack? Called 999/911/112 or equivalent? Fainted? Had a seizure? Had an overdose? Got heatstroke? Got anemia? Got asthma? Got diabetes? Broken a bone? Had a minor injury? Had a major injury? Had a life threatening injury? Saved someone from nearly dying? Done CPR? Seen someone get shocked? Witnessed another violent crime? Been mugged? Had your house burgled? Beat someone up? Stolen something little? Stolen something pricey/big? Stolen something of sentimental value? Committed a violent crime? Been in prison? Dated anyone in prison? Had any family or close friends in prison? Drove without a license? Drove whilst drunk or on drugs? Drove whilst extremely tired or worn down? Drove way too fast? Been on a rollercoaster? Been on a ghost train? Been in the Tunnel of Love? Been on a carousel? Been bungee jumping? Been scuba diving? Been sky diving? Been in Terror Tower? Played Bloody Mary? Played with a Ouija board? Used a Ouija board for more than just fun? Seen a ghost? Seen an angel/demon/god? Thought you saw Santa? Been so frightened you fainted? Been so frightened you cried and couldn’t move? Played a cruel prank? Had a cruel prank pulled on you? Believed an Urban Legend (whether likely or not)? Was too frightened to sleep after watching a movie? Had to keep the lights on because of a movie? Laughed so hard you cried? Cried so hard you laughed? Laughed at a horror film? Cried at a comedy film? Was frightened by a scene or character from a kids movie/show? Watched movies back to back for more than 6 hours? Watched any of the SAWS? Watched any of the Harry Potters? Watched any of the Hellraisers? Watched Annie? Watched Jurassic Park? Watched TV for more than 5 hours solid? Watched episode after episode of a series back-to-back? Watched Smallville? Watched Eastenders? Watched America’s/Britain’s Got Talent? Watched Sky Sports? Watched QVC? Watched Fiver? Watched a pornographic film? Read a pornographic magazine? Viewed or used something else pornographic? Broke something of someone else’s on purpose? Spent more than 6 hours surfing the net? Spent all night on the computer messaging someone? Accidentally clicked on an inappropriate site? Received unwanted messages from a stranger? Got emails about Viagra or penis enlargement? Downloaded music legally? Downloaded movies legally? Downloaded music illegally? Downloaded movies illegally? Listened to online radio? Went on to a website you heard mentioned in an Ad? Gambled online? Played games for fun? Read stories or poetry? Wrote stories or poetry? Looked up song lyrics? Searched your name on Google? Tried to trace your family ancestry? Been on www.allpoetry.com? Been on www.bored.com? Been on www.quizilla.com? Been on www.wittyprofiles.com? Used Facebook? Used Myspace? Used Twitter? Used Tumblr? Used Snapchat? Burned a CD? Made a mixed CD? Burned a DVD? Bought a pirated DVD? Broken your computer? Damaged your keyboard? Lost the battery charger if you have a laptop? Had a PS? Had a PS2? Had a PS3? Had a Nintendo DS? Had a Wii? Had an Xbox? Had a Gamecube? Had another game console? Owned a CD player? Had a CD rack? Owned over 50 CDs? Owned over 100 CDs? Listened to a CD through your DVD player or Playstation? Owned a DVD player? Laughed at something really inappropriate? Laughed at something and snorted? Cried for no reason? Laughed for no reason? Bought a car? Bought condoms at a pharmacy/drugstore? Made an Indian dish? Made a Chinese dish? Accidentally dropped money on the street? Had someone close to you steal from you? Been victim to racism? Been victim to sexism? Been bullied? Said sorry when you didn’t mean it above 12? Missed someone so much you cried? Ate oyster? Ate octopus? Tried sushi? Made a tuna bake? Baked someone a birthday cake? Got food poisoning? Made a flan? Worked in a pub? Worked in a restaurant? Worked in a shop/store? Gave more than $5 to charity? Gave more than $20 to charity? Gave more than $50 to charity? Fell down a flight of stairs? Kissed someone of the same sex? Had sex? Opened a bank account? Had a baby? Had a miscarriage? Been skiing? Been skating? Been skateboarding? Been to Europe? Been to an amusement park? Been to a fair? Rollerbladed?<-------Well, tried. I ended up falling and getting my foot sprained. Since then, never want to try it again. Hugged a stranger? Kissed a stranger? Met someone before they were famous? Hit someone? Kicked someone? Punched someone? Smiled at a stranger? Shouted at a stranger? Forgot your pin number? Held a stranger’s hand? Looked after someone else’s child? Forgiven someone too many times? Met someone called Stacey? Met someone called Alyssa? Met someone called Gregory? Forgot your best friend’s birthday? Forgot a family member’s birthday? Been sick from a certain food? Lost your temper whilst driving? Been on a bouncy castle? Had a trampoline in your backgarden? Cut yourself on purpose for attention? Watched I’m a Celebrity? Been to a book signing? Been to a film premiere? Liked the sequel of a movie more than the original? Drove a boat? Kissed an Italian? Impersonated an accent? Been to a national opera house? Been to a school play? Been in a school play? Swore at a teacher? Swore at a police officer? Stood on a frog by accident? Been in a forest? Swam in a lake? Called someone at a really late time? Had major surgery? Made up a new dance to a song? Parodied a song with funny lyrics? Bought yourself a plasma TV? Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Broke up with someone as you cheated? Broke up with someone to get with someone else? Taken a have you ever survey?

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter twenty-two: when in england

“Such a trip,” Sam muttered under her breath.

“Such a trip to go on such a trip?” Marla chuckled.

“Exactly!”

The two of them had taken their spots by the window which looked out to the vast stretch of Atlantic Ocean as it disappeared into the northern darkness. The sun was already starting to rise up before them, ready to welcome them to the other side of the waters: the sky overhead had been painted that rich dark violet and it bled into a bright tangerine orange with the brand new day on the horizon. Off in the distance, Sam spotted the first clouds of the fall up north and she wondered about that night in Sweden, that night when Cliff was killed, especially since Metallica themselves were three rows behind her and Marla. Every so often, she heard a giggle from Lars and then another one from Jason, but that was as far as it went with them back there.

Here she was, right next to Marla and across the aisle from Belinda and Joey, both of whom had fallen asleep when they left New York City the evening before. Aurora and Emile were in the seats behind them, and Sam knew she still hadn't told him yet.

As far as the two of them knew, their union stood on the shakiest of grounds. Every so often, she overhead Emile speaking about rum and whiskey and she wondered why on Earth he would be mentioning those things to Aurora of all people. She needed to tell him soon; if not there on the plane while everyone was still asleep, then later when they were in the hotel room.

She stared out the window once again at the colorful sky and for a second, she swore she saw the aurora borealis itself off to the north in all of its neon green glory. But then again, it was merely part of her imagination, especially once the plane reached the Azores followed by the outskirts of the British Isles. The clouds gathered around the edge of the islands and Sam sighed one of relief when she remembered she had in fact brought a couple of sweaters with her.

“Britain gets cold, even this time of year,” Lars told her over the phone during the night before, “so dress warm. No exaggeration—dress warm.”

They touched down in East Midlands: she spotted the castle down below, the venue Anthrax and Metallica were supposed to be playing at come two nights from then.

“They're gonna be going on after Bon Jovi and Cinderella of all bands,” Aurora said right into her ear.

“Wow,” Marla declared.

“Bon Jovi, Cinderella, and then W.A.S.P.,” Aurora continued. “They're gonna be the odd ones out, if you ask me.”

Sam turned to Marla, who raised her eyebrows at that. They touched down in East Midlands right as the low clouds collected up in the early morning sky for a bit of late summer rain: Sam shook her head as she realized she had left that black hat back home. Their hotel was right down the block, but she still yearned for the protection of that wide brim.

She bowed her head as Marla and Aurora walked on either side of her, and Belinda right behind them, on the way across the narrow street: behind the hotel stood a stream with waters deep enough to swim in at some point, as well as a small stone bridge that crossed over into a stretch of bright green grass. Things were in fact greener.

“Once we're checked in I'm gonna call my parents,” Sam said once they were in the small, warmly lit lobby, to which Belinda glanced down at her watch.

“It's probably ten o'clock at night back over there,” she pointed out.

“So? My dad told me to call once we get to England no matter what time it is.”

“Wish my parents were like that,” Marla confessed.

“Yeah, me, too,” Belinda added with a slight grin on her face. Sam turned her attention to the bar on the other side of the room, and Marla did, too.

“Looks like we've got cocktail makings on hand,” she noted, and then she turned to Sam.

“I'm gonna get a bottle of that sweet stuff over there for later on,” Marla told her. “Martinis for us ladies for a bit of a celebration.”

“What sweet stuff?”

“Marshmallow vodka. A little bit of that in juice? Tasty.”

“Sounds good.” Sam showed her a grin, and within time, they checked into their rooms; Sam, Marla, and Belinda took the one on the left, down at the far end of the bright warm corridor, next door to Emile and Aurora; meanwhile Joey, Frank, Dan, and Charlie took the one across the way. James, Lars, Kirk, and Jason were in four separate rooms themselves on the other side of the building; but Sam need not protest. She had left the United States for a short time and relished in the feeling all the while.

Marla had bought a large bottle of the marshmallow vodka, which had a dark pink label on the front; and she stashed it in the small wine cellar on the other side of the room for the time being. Sam wondered what sort of drink she had in mind as she began to unpack her things for the next few days there in East Midlands.

One of the first things she took out was her journal, a small set of pencils, and her black ink pens. She thought about the little drawings for good luck she had made for Charlie over the course of the North American stint of the tour: given they were overseas now, she figured it would be best to make a single special ink drawing for them. A special drawing to signify that she was outside of the United States, no less.

She lay flat on her stomach on the full sized bed and plunked the journal before her as if she was a little girl with a coloring book. Aurora had gone out somewhere in the hotel, while Belinda took her spot on the other bed and looked over the guide there in the drawer. Sam wondered what she could draw for Charlie as she adjusted her pose there on the bed and tucked her arms right under her chest. They were across the hall: she could always walk on over there and ask him about it, but then again, she had no idea if either of them were any decent, either.

Soon, Marla returned to the room with a towel coiled upon her head.

“You took a shower?” Belinda asked her.

“Yeah. No way I'm walking about here without feeling refreshed. That shower is the bomb, by the way.” She made her way over to dresser drawer she had claimed upon check in, and then she turned her head to Sam on the bed.

“So I've got my inks and my good paper with me,” she told her.

“Oh, good! Good, good, good. The British must see your art, Samantha!” Marla stated that last part in a fake British accent.

“Not sure what to draw, though.” She extended her arms out before her so she resembled to a lion on her throne. “Do you know if the boys are settled in over there?”

Marla shook her head.

“I've been in the shower, so I'm afraid not.”

“I haven't heard a peep over there since we came in here,” Belinda confessed, and without another word, Sam climbed off of the bed and she ambled over to the door: their door hung wide open and as a result, she could see Charlie seated with his back to the wall and his drum sticks in either hand. He glanced over at her and nodded at her.

But she continued on in there and he froze right in his spot. He then extended a hand for her and she stopped right in the doorway.

“Joey's changing his clothes,” he told her.

“Who is it?” Joey's voice floated out the door.

“It's Sam.”

“Oh! She can come in.”

Charlie chuckled at that and Sam made her way into the room: indeed, Joey stood between the beds with no shirt on and his shorts pulled all the way up past his waist.

“What's up?” Charlie asked her.

“Would you like me to draw you something?” she suggested. “I've got my inks with me.”

“Oh, sweet! Um—yeah. Draw us!”

“The four of you?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah, do it, Sam!” Frank called from behind the bathroom door.

“No rush, though. The show itself is in a couple of days and we're going on near the middle of the set, too.”

“Sure, sure. I gotta sketch it out first, anyways.”

Charlie then gave her a high five and Joey followed suit with her as well, and then she returned to the room for a pencil sketch of the drawing in question. But she decided that a single drawing wouldn't be enough for them. They were a full fledged quartet now, each with their own vibe and feeling, especially with Joey at the helm as guitarist and lead singer.

She spent most of that first day in the hotel room with her journal right before her: lucky for her, the pages were perforated at the binding: she pictured what would happen once she had put down the black ink, and each of the four drawings in a frame, framed for each of them to take along all around the world following that show before the castle.

At some point, Belinda lay down on the bed for a nap to help her cope with jet lag, while Marla went out for something to make cocktails with, which in turn left Sam alone with the drawings in progress. By the time she opened the cap on the one millimeter pen, the door opened and Aurora sauntered into the room.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Sam greeted her, taken aback. “What's going on?”

“Emile's taking a nap,” she told her.

“Bel is, too.” Sam nodded to the opposite bed and Belinda, who had rolled over onto her side, away from the soft gray light that filtered in through the window next to Sam.

“What'cha doing, though?”

“Drawing something for Charlie. I also want to make a special drawing for the fact we're in Britain, too.”

“Right, right, right.” Aurora then stooped over and she opened the cabinet on the wine cellar, the one which had the bottle of marshmallow vodka inside of it. Sam lifted her gaze and gasped as she recognized that hot pink label on the front.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait—you seriously wanna be drinking that?” she asked her, stunned. Aurora sighed through her nose and she held the bottle right before her chest.

“I'm not pregnant,” she announced, to which Sam gasped again.

“Oh, damn—really? How'd you figure that out?”

“Time of the month.”

“Ah. But you missed one, though.”

“Yeah, I know—no idea why, though. And I thought Marla told you, too.”

“No, she—didn't say anything about it.”

“Really?”

Sam shook her head and then Aurora pried off the cap and took a small swig from the bottle, much to her surprise.

“Jesus,” she muttered.

“What?” Aurora raised an eyebrow at her.

“You're really gonna go there, aren't you?”

“Go where?”

“With—that.”

“It was just a little bit of vodka I drank right there. Marla said she's going to mix it in to give it a little 'oomph' but not too much.”

“Right.” Sam hesitated right in her tracks.

“Right? Right what?”

“If being around Joey when he's drinking is anything to go by, it's that one sip turns into a full bottle of booze.”

“Sure, sure, sure. Sam—I assure you that I'm not like that. I can keep it under control—I've drank on my period before but I've always kept it to a level.”

Sam squinted her eyes at her, but then she returned to the pad of paper upon her lap. Soon, Marla returned to the room with a couple of bottles of grenadine and some lime juice; but Sam was focused more so on the papers before her. She put down ink by the time Belinda woke up for a drink herself.

Black curls for Joey and Charlie both. That feathery crown atop Dan's head. Lush hair on Frank's head. Each of them with a bit of cross hatchess for shading on their faces.

Marla whipped up a glass of midori sour for her once she had signed her initials on all four of the drawings; she took a sip and nodded her head.

“Oh, man, that's good,” Sam remarked with a swirl of her glass. She glanced up at Marla. “Where'd you learn that?”

“Sam, I grew up in Hell's Kitchen. We know how to groove.”

Belinda chuckled at that; behind Marla, Aurora poured herself a small glass of that straight marshmallow vodka for a shot. Sam then set down the journal to show Marla the drawings.

“Holy wow,” Belinda remarked.

“Oh, man, you're getting clean with your lines,” Marla added as she held her glass away from the bed's surface. “Love how you gave their hair plenty of glimmer and depth, too.”

“Power of negative space,” Sam told her; careful not to damage the drawings, she took each of them off of the perforation and then she took one more sip of her drink before she made her way across the hall to meet up with them once again.

The door had been nudged shut part of the way, but she could hear Joey's laughter on the inside there. She held the drawings close to her body as she knocked on the door panel with her free hand.

“Charlie?” she called into the room. A brief amount of silence in there; she nudged the door open and she was met with Dan and Charlie's backs.

“Charlie!” she called again, and he whirled around and he gaped at the drawings that she put on display before him.

“Oh, wow!” he proclaimed.

“Damn, those are amazing!” Dan followed suit.

“These are all pen and ink. Just exactly how you asked and then some—I didn't want to do a single drawing, so I made four. One for the each of you.”

“Excellent! I'll put these where everyone can see them.”

Charlie showed her a smile and then he put his arms around her, and Dan did, as well. Joey, who stood on the far side of the room, then snapped his fingers.

“Oh, Sam!” he started, “there's someone I want you to meet. He's already across the way at the castle.”

He strode up towards her with what appeared to be a dark blue bandana in one hand.

“You gonna look like a bandit when we go over there?” she teased him, to which he laughed at that as they made their way out to the corridor.

“Nah, it's to keep my bangs off of my forehead. If there's anything I can't get used to, it's the humidity here.”

“The humidity?” she laughed at that. “You're from upstate New York—how could you not be used to humidity?”

“No idea,” he confessed as he set the bandana atop his head. “But it's the truth, though.” He paused for a second to better tie it behind his head, and then he led her down the hall to the front door. The rain had stopped long enough for the clouds to break apart a bit: the afternoon sun filtered through in a gray haze, but it was enough for the castle to light up by the tops of the turrets.

He waited for her to catch up at the curb, and then they continued onward to the other side: he led her down a narrow pathway lined with lush, soaked trees and shrubs. She thought about the quiet place, that nook in the woods that she and Charlie found together when Stormtroopers of Death were recording their album. He bowed his head a bit for a low hanging branch and she did as well; and then he led her to a tall blue and gold tent pitched up right outside of the castle. He held the door flap for her and she padded inside first.

She glanced about the tent, and the stacks of amplifiers on the right side, as well as Metallica's equipment: indeed, she caught the sound of Lars' drums beyond the tent there. The show itself wasn't starting up, and yet he already rehearsed for it. Next over were lights and more equipment for Bon Jovi's set, as well as all that Cinderella needed; but as Joey stood right next to her, he nodded at the short, sinewy gentleman walking towards them. He had a mullet all around the back of his head and a bare spot at the crown, a hooked nose, and a serious expression on his face, and yet, when he recognized Joey, the corners of his beady dark eyes crinkled with the smile.

“Hey, I know you—sort of,” he called out to him as he adjusted the lapels of his black leather jacket.

“Hey, Ron—it's been a while.” Joey threw his arms around him, and then he turned to Sam.

“Sam, this is my friend, Ronnie James Dio,” Joey declared. “Ronnie, this is my friend Sam—better known as Sam I am.”

Ronnie wagged his finger at her. “I've heard a bit about you,” he said in a soft voice, complete with that distinct upstate accent.

“I've heard a little bit about you, too.” To which he shrugged.

“I'm like little Joe Mama right here—I get around the upstate area.”

“That's the only way to do it,” she pointed out with a shrug herself, and that brought a chuckle out of him. “Is there any chance we'll be able to see the infamous Rainbow or Elf?”

“Well, I'm with my own band at the moment—simply called Dio. We're gonna be goin' on once Metallica wraps up the day of the show.”

“It's just rehearsals right now, anyways,” Joey assured her as he reached up to adjust his bandana.

“Although—come with me. Both of you.”

Sam followed Ronnie into one side of the tent: he was like a wizard, especially with that mullet of hair at the back and that black leather upon his body. He stood before a small table the size of the nightstand back at the hotel room: as she came closer, she spotted a series of silver picks strewn about the surface. There was one at the top with a chain attached to it.

“There's no rainbow or elf here,” he told her, “but there is a—a certain sabbath, though.” He picked up that one silver pendant from the table's surface and he showed her the words “earth eternal – sign of the southern cross” etched on the front, as well as the words “Black Sabbath” on the back.

“Here—” He unhooked the pendant and she lifted her ponytail for her.

“It's like you're getting blessed, Sam,” Joey remarked, to which Ronnie chuckled at that; but he kept his eyes fixed on the clasp at the base of Sam's neck.

“Blessed by the gods,” Ronnie added as he moved the clasp to the back of her neck. She peered down at the pendant in the middle of her chest.

“Thank you,” she breathed, to which he winked at her.

“We've been seeing a lot more women in our audiences lately,” he told her. “Not sure if it's 'cause of that amazing punk band Anthrax have been touring with, or because of Doro, but—we have to treat them well.” He leaned his head in closer to her and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Especially the ones we make friends with.”

And she nodded her head at that. Ronnie turned to Joey right then.

“And I have something for you, Joey,” he declared. But Sam turned away for a moment, just so she could have a better look at that silver pendant. He did in fact feel like a wizard, and it did feel as though she had received a blessing of sorts. She ran her finger tips along the etching on the one side and she tried to think of the most powerful of magic to protect her as she went on her way. Yet another thing she had to protect with that black onyx box back home.

She was about to take a step forward when someone gasped out right before her.

She opened her eyes and there was that little sliver of gray once again. That sliver that haunted her dreams, and for a split second, she swore that with Ronnie's blessing, that she had brought the mysterious man in her dreams to life. But he shook his head about and he raised his eyebrows at the pendant about her neck.

“Hi,” she greeted him in a soft voice.

“Hi—I wasn't expecting to see you here,” Alex noted.

“And I wasn't expecting to see you here,” she echoed him. “I mean, I got the letter from Testament last week saying that you guys are going to be out here in Europe for a few dates.”

“Yeah, but—didn't expect to see each other here, though,” he pointed out with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Well—yeah. But anyways, what're you doing here?”

“Just hangin' out for a bit. I was about to see what Charlie's doing.” He shrugged his shoulders and he ran his fingers through his otherwise jet black curls. “Besides, you think we're gonna miss our guys and their big gateway to being at the pinnacle of the world?” he asked her with a little nod of his head. “Playing in a castle no less?”

“Their literal ascension to rock royalty?” she followed along.

“Exactly! It's also the second time Metallica plays here, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam folded her arms across her chest.

“That's what I'm told, yeah. So I'm told, anyways. So—you know. Bay Area represent.” He bowed his head forward for a better look at that pendant. “That's badass. Where'd you get that?”

“Oh, Ronnie gave it to—” She turned around and gestured back to Ronnie and Joey, but they had disappeared. “—me.”

“Wow,” he breathed, and then he turned his head. “Oh, there's Charlie.”

She followed Alex to right outside of the tent, where Charlie sauntered up to the door with those drawings in hand.

“Where's Joey—he's gotta see this one of him closer,” he told her with a twinkle in his eye.

“He's over there somewhere,” Sam pointed to the other side of the tent, and before Alex could say anything, Charlie bowed away from there to fetch Joey and Ronnie. Alex then turned back to Sam with a puzzled look on his boyish face.

“What was that?” he wondered aloud with a gesture to the drawings.

“Oh, that was—”

“Hey, careful—” Aurora interjected right then. She staggered towards him and he backed off from her. Sam stood still as she watched her best friend stagger into the tent. She sniffled and she rubbed the tip of her nose.

“What's—What's goin' on?” she asked Sam.

“Wow, how many shots have you had since I left the room?”

“Enough for a—a—a—a good time. Enough to get ready to party. Party!” She shot out her arms on either side of her and almost punched Sam right in the face all the while.

“Aurora, the show's not for another couple of days and you're already drunk!” she proclaimed.

“What's the good in that?” Aurora giggled and then she turned to Alex. She clutched onto the front of his shirt and lunged right into his face, and showed him her tongue.

“Hey, cutie pie,” she slurred out to him.

“Aurora!” Sam exclaimed.

“Aurora,” Alex tried to wriggle out from her grip, “—Aurora, c'mon, you're knocked up and smashed—wait a minute, lemme rephrase that.”

“Shhh,” Aurora pressed a finger to his lips, but he moved his head back away from her hand.

“But—”

“No, no, no, nah—Alex—listen to me—listen—listen—listen—”

“I'm listening?” he sputtered and hunched his shoulders. Aurora giggled at him and patted the sides of his face.

“You're cute,” she noted with a slight slur of her speech.

“I try my best,” he quipped, and he gave her a shrug.

“Nah, no—you are just too cute for words, Alejandro.”

“Alejandro. Back up, I thought you were Korean.”

She giggled at him. “Naneun dangsin-ege kiseuhago sipseubnida,” she quipped.

He froze right in his tracks with his eyes wide with confusion.

“Neon jeongmal aleumdaun sonyeon-iya,” she continued, “dali saie mueos-i issneunji boyeojuseyo.”

“Uh... yeah,” he said, baffled. He backed away from her and looked over to the door. Sam tried to step in between them, but Aurora lunged for him. He bowed away from her as a result.

“No—No!” she sputtered. “Alex—come here—come—come—”

“Nah.” He strode over to the door with a horrified look on his face.

“Come!” she called out to him as if he was a dog.

“No way!”

He ducked away from her before Sam could say anything to him. He was the faster runner even if Aurora hadn't had anything to drink all afternoon. He headed out to the trees, and Sam followed suit. They reached the street; Alex continued on to the other side of the hotel and the small bridge which led over to the grass. Panting, he skidded to a stop and Sam did as well right in front of him.

“What the hell was that all about?” he demanded.

“I have no clue,” she confessed.

“Hey!” Aurora called out from the left, and Sam wondered how she got out of the tress so fast. She collapsed there onto the grass right next to them: her hands clutched onto Alex's ankles, and he almost lost his balance as a result.

“AURORA!” Sam shouted.

“ALEX!” Aurora shouted as well.

“Shit!” Alex staggered back towards the stream, such that he almost fell in.

“What's all this yelling?” Marla called out; Sam turned around to see the look of dismay on her face. Marla then looked down at Aurora, who lay there on the grass with her arms outstretched before her.

“Oh, god,” she muttered, and then she returned her attention to Sam and Alex. “Bel and I have been trying to keep her in the room for like twenty minutes and she was like, 'no, no! I wanna party!'”

“The way she is, I don't think so,” Alex called from his spot there on the grass.

“She's not pregnant, by the way,” Marla told him.

“Wait, she isn't?” His face turned as red as a cherry tomato.

“Not even one bit,” Sam resisted the urge to cackle like a madwoman right there.

“She's fucking hammered, though! Nah, man, I ain't doin' that!” Alex clambered to his feet and he walked at a brisk pace onto the bridge. Sam and Marla returned to Aurora, who had passed out there on the wet grass.

“Want me to get Bel and Emile?” Sam offered her.

“Nah, I can do that. You can help me roll her over, though.”

They both rolled Aurora onto her side. Her smooth eyes were sealed shut and her mouth hung wide open; they both stood up in unison, and then Marla headed back into the hotel to fetch Belinda and Emile. Sam turned her attention to the bridge: she spotted the crown of Alex's head on the other side, and she walked on over to him just to check on him. He stood there with with his elbows rested upon the stone railing and he gazed out at the darkening waters under the bridge.

“Hey,” she said to him. He never turned his attention to him.

“Are you okay?” she gently asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied with a bit of haste, “—I hope so.”

His bottom lip trembled. “I thought she—she—” He could hardly talk.

“I tried telling you that she wasn't, though,” Sam pointed out as she lingered closer to him. “And if I'm being perfectly honest: that has to be the first time I had ever seen her three sheets to the wind like that before.”

Alex stood perfectly still, still with his elbows rested on the bridge's railing. He gazed out to the murky waters with his eyes large and the color barely returned to his face.

“There was no way I was going to, though,” he assured her.

“Going to what?”

“You know.” He hesitated for a second and then he cleared his throat. “—while she's drunk.”

And then she gasped when she realized what he meant by that.

“Well, if it's any fairness to you, Alex, I wouldn't want you to, either,” she said. “That's like the last thing you need right now.”

He then turned his attention to her. His eyes were still large; he never said anything to that, but Sam meant it. He returned to the black waters before them, still in silence; silence save for the loud wretching noise Aurora made on the other side of the grass.

“Really hope she brushes her teeth,” he said in a soft voice; she wretched again and that one in particular sounded rather hard. It made him grimace and it made her bow her head a bit.

“I'm sure she will.” Another wretch. “Scratch that—I know for a fact she will. Especially since she's married. Married to Emile no less.”

“At least six times.” Another wretch, and that time he shook his head at the sound. “Six more times of that.”

“You know, we are in England,” she pointed out. He flashed her a mortified glance.

“What, you want me to get drunk myself?” he asked her. “Samantha, I've already dropped a bit of acid the size of my pinky nail and it got my ass grounded for two weeks straight.”

“No, but what I am saying is you can have a drink yourself without—” Another wretch. “—that right there.”

“I dunno,” Alex confessed with a shrug of his shoulders. “I tried beer once and I just about did what Aurora's doing right now.”

“What about wine?” she asked him.

“Haven't tried wine—on its own. I've had steak marinated in wine, though. That's pretty good.”

“That sounds good, too.”

Yet another wretch.

“Man, she's gonna be sore tomorrow,” he remarked, and he turned his head into the direction of the hotel. “Speaking of steak—”

He gestured for her to follow him back to the hotel.

“Metallica and Dio are treating us all to something, it looks like.”

“Anything to get us away from that,” she said.

“Right? When in England, you gotta party after all.” And that in turn made her laugh.

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

korean translations:

“naneun dangsin-ege kiseuhago sipseubnida” = “i want to kiss you”

“neon jeongmal aleumdaun sonyeon-iya” = “you are such a beautiful boy”

“dali saie mueos-i issneunji boyeojuseyo” = “let me see what you have between your legs”

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