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#this was originally just 'my shirts are all too big i should get some medium ones'
ghostalmost · 6 months
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oh no i ordered art supplies uh oh
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taetaespeaches · 2 years
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Hello lovely Liv! Luckily I write these out in my notes first, because lets be real, what I send you is nothing short of a novel. Ok, so, Jimin and Dear:
Honestly Liv I’m convinced you wrote Jimin and Dear to heal some part of me that really needed help fixing. I have really bad, but really high functioning, social anxiety, so there are some FRESH truths in these fics that I can relate to. Both sides of their story speak to me so deeply that I’m kinda regretting saying that I’m Daisy, because I’m actually both Jimin and Dear rolled into one (also side note, I’m actually convinced Jimin is my twin - we’re both Libra’s and we have the same personality type…. and last year I sat on a bus for 20 hours just to surprise my friend on their birthday for one day… and I’d happily do it again in a heart beat, but is this not big Jimin energy or what??)
Feeling like you’re not enough, feeling insecure, feeling so deeply and passionately, I just love these two with my everything. The doubts, the distance, the respective reassurances, the break up and the makeup that followed, and the eventual all encompassing love, it taps in to a very deep crack in my soul - it both breaks and completes my heart every time I read it. I can’t wait to find someone that accepts me like they do for each other… and I couldn’t love these two more :(( This was probably my hardest list!! In all honesty, it’s a bit of a weak effort with how poorly I’ve been able to slim down my choices, but here we go anyways:
Absolute absolute absolute faves (that I’ve sneakily grouped together so that the list seems shorter than it really is lmao):
I might have to kiss you right now >> Did I really get to shag you last night? >> I think we should avoid overthinking
The way they got together was just so cute and fun and sexy and I’m just in love with this lil progression
I’m already lost without him >> Yeah, I’m drunk. And you’re wearing my t-shirt and I fucking love you >> I don’t know where we go from here, Dear >> I can’t think of a life that doesn’t have you in it >> You can’t keep punishing yourself
UGH. THIS SEQUENCE >>>>> They just fucking love each other so much and you write it so well. Like I can feel their frustration with themselves for getting in the way of letting them love each other. It JUMPS off the page (or in this case my phone lol) at me and DAMN CAN I RELATE
Aren’t promise rings kind of a big step in a relationship? We should probably consummate this >> Do you remember my promise?
To be reassured like this. That’s it. Thats the goal.
Are you sure you want to take a nap right now, Dear? >> What a way to to start the New Year >> Don’t act innocent you had me pinned underneath you five minutes ago >> You’re distracting, I have things to do today
SMUT NAATION RIIIISE. You’re so good at writing smut love, and this is no exception. Gah, I’m blushing.
How could you hide something from me? I’m the love of your life
Yep, after everything these two have been through this is by far my fave proposal. It’s like a breath of fresh air seeing these two finally get their happily ever after. It gives me so much hope and happiness I could cry.
Honourable mentions that I also adore with all my heart:
- Don’t worry about me, Dear
- No, in the afternoon
- You just want to get me out of my snow pants
- Your tattoos are hot
ALSO, with everything going on in my life atm (what a hectic past month it has been oh my) I’ve decided to take some anons and your advice and I’ve decided to start writing! I don’t think I’ll do bts fics, I’m not too sure yet, but I definitely think I want to spill out some of my domestic goodness ideas onto the page. Think its about time I start actively doing more things to make me happy. I originally wanted to get back in to shooting film on my uncles medium format camera but I feel like writing will 1. hurt my wallet less (because medium format is $$$) and 2. be a good challenge given that I literally write copy for a living, but have never tried fictional writing outside of my one creative writing paper I took at uni. I’ll let you know if it ends up being shit or not!
All my love! Drunk anon x
Ok first of all, how are you doing?? You give the impression that you're kind of the tough friend that takes care of everyone else so I hope people are checking in with you. And I hope you're doing ok considering all the fuckery you've been through recently :(
Now onto responding to your ask lol. I definitely did get this at some point, I don't know where the hell it went but thank you so much for sending it in again <3 I both love and hate that you can relate to this couple so much bc they literally go through so much hell sometimes :( but I'm seriously so happy that they have felt healing to you in any sort of way. (Also you being the jimin friend is the cutest and also least shocking thing I've ever heard, it just fits, it feels right. And you're an absolute angel, lovely)
You will find someone who loves you and accepts you btw. I just know it <3
I literally LOVE the amount of fics you put in here lmaoooo as I was reading this I was like ok are there any fics left in the masterlist?? this makes me so unbelievably happy. Idk sometimes I feel Jimin and Dear are one of the more overlooked couples?? so to see that you love them so dearly is just so great.
YOURE WRITING!!!!! AAHHHHH!! I know you want to stay anon but like if there's anyway I can help with literally anything, let me know. This is so exciting!!! Doing things that make you happy >>>>>> that's the reason I want to get more into 3D art. I can't really do pottery bc like I need the mass amounts of clay and the wheel and the fucking kiln :/ but I can make little coil pots and little sculptures and like idk WE SHOULD JUST DO WHAT MAKES US HAPPY!!! I'm very excited for you, you're going to be great at whatever you decide to write. Get that domestic goodness out there! <3
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maxwell-grant · 3 years
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You have done an (excelent) post on how to reinvent Batman as a Pulp Hero. Do you think you could do one to Superman as well? Or do you think it is impossible to do this with the progenitor of the Super Hero genre without transforming him in a totaly diferent character?
Well, you saying it as impossible only makes it seem ever more tempting of a challenge, but yes, it is a bit harder. I'm gonna link my Batman post here as a reference point.
Partially because Batman's a franchise I've thought extensively about for a long time in regards to what I like about it or how I'd like to approach if given the opportunity, which is not something I can really say for Superman until more recently the Big Blue to start orbiting my brain. I don't have years worth of redesigns or fan concepts saved on my galleries and files to comb through to pick and choose here, and my experience with Superman as a character is considerably different, in some aspects more deeply personal, and not really something I'd like to go into in this blog, at least not now.
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Part of the reason why it's harder is also because Batman and Superman have very different relationships with their pulp inspirations. Batman was, ostensibly, a pulp character adapted to comics, a dime-a-dozen Shadow knock-off who picked up and played up diverging traits from other characters and gradually ran with them to gradually forge a unique identity. Superman right from the start was rooted in a much stronger conceptual underpinning: the Sci-Fi Superman and Alien Menace who, instead of being a tragic monster or a tyrannical villain, becomes a costumed adventurer and social crusader. Even the name Super-Man was taken from an early story of Siegel and Shuster about a telepathic villain who ends the story lamenting that he should have used his powers for the good of mankind instead of selfishness. I hesitate to call what Siegel and Shuster were doing “subversive” because that term's picked up a real negative connotation, and it's not like Siegel and Shuster were out to upend their influences (they were pulp aficionados themselves), but rather putting a more positive, new spin on them.
Which is why it also becomes a bit harder to do what I did with Batman and align Superman with some of his pulp-esque inspirations, like John Carter, Flash Gordon or Hugo Danner, without just making it "Superman but he's John Carter", "Superman but it's Flash Gordon", and "Iron Munro / Superman but everything sucks" respectively. It's harder to create a character that wouldn't feel reduntant and derivative at best, and actively contradictory to Superman at worst.
I guess if I had to come up with a "Pulp Hero Superman" take I liked, well first of all I'd have to take steps to distance it from the likes of Tom Strong or Al Ewing's Doc Thunder, those two are as good as it gets in regards to Pulp Supermen. I stipulated for Batman a "No Guns, No Murder, No Service" policy partially to distance my takes on Batman from all the "Pulp Batmen" that just add guns and murder and take Batman back to the barest of basics. Likewise, I'm adding a "No Depowered Science Hero" rule here, which means it's a take that's likely going to veer off a lot more into fantasy and probably enough tampering with Clark's character that it does risk becoming a different character.
Frankly I don't think I'm gonna succeed at doing these without just making it a new character entirely, because with Batman you can get away with just upending the character's aesthetic and setting and even origin and still keep it recognizably Bruce Wayne (in fact Batman does that all the time), which isn't really the case with Superman, who needs those to remain recognizably Superman as he goes through internal changes and character shifts. I guess what I'm gonna do here is more taking the building blocks of Superman/Clark Kent and see a couple new ways I can rearrange them to create a Pulp Superman
Perhaps something we can do is to scale back or recontextualize the "superhero" parts without diminishing Superman's role as a superpowered fantasy character.
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One way we can start is by picking on that connection between Superman and the sci-fi supermen/alien monsters of pulps I mentioned earlier and play it up further, to create a Superman who's deeply, deeply alien in a way that no mild-mannered disguise or colorful outfit can really disguise, something so dramatically powerful and alien, that instead you could get tales about the kinds of ensuing changes and ripple effects this has on the world upon the The Super-Man's arrival. And for that I'm gonna have to quote @davidmann95's concept for Joshua Viers' absolutely stunning Superman redesign on the left side of the image above
The red, the goldish-orange and white, the alienness, the angelic, sculpted feeling, the halo, that innocently curious expression: it’s genuinely beautiful. Superman as a redeeming science-angel from beyond our understanding, as much past the uncanny valley of limited human comprehension as a Lovecraftian monster but tuned to the opposite key - you could spend an endless procession of human lifetimes trying and failing to understand this being, but all you’ll ever know for sure is that it is beyond you, and it knows you, and it loves you.
Superdoomsday from Earth 45, healed and transformed into the savior it was originally envisioned as? Some descendant of his, or a future of the man himself? An alien who picked up on a broadcast of Superman from Earth, and so inspired reshaped itself in his image to spread his ‘gospel’ to the stars?
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Alternatively, to come back to Earth a little, many, many pulp characters and series were built off the antics and personalities of real people, celebrities getting their own magazines or serials or fictionalized takes on them, so perhaps one way to make a "pulp" take on Superman would be to emphasize a bit more of Superman's real-world roots, trends that inspired his creation directly or indirectly at the time. The Jewish strongman Sigmund Breibart and Shuster's interest in fitness culture, Harold Lloyd's comic persona, the rising "strongman" film genre in the early 20th century, actors Clark Gable and Kent Taylor that supposedly named his secret identity, Clark Kent being a socially-awkward journalist based of Siegel's own school experiences.
Maybe one start to an authentic Pulp Superman, who would still be Superman, would be to just ask the question "What if Superman was a real person and/or a celebrity, and they started making pulp magazines and serials dedicated to him? What would those look like?". You wouldn't even have to restrict it to just a story set in the 1930s, in fact you could even play around with the rise of new mediums over the decades.
This third one is a little closer to some plans I have for my own take on a Superman character, not necessarily what I would do with Superman proper but one of my ideas for a Superman analogue. Superman's a character I'll always associate strongly with childhood and childhood fantasy, and to tap into that I would emphasize the other end of the fiction that influenced Siegel and Shuster: comic strips, in their case specifically Little Nemo and Popeye.
In my case I would bring additional influences from some of the comic strips I personally grew up reading like Monica's Gang and Calvin and Hobbes, and I already talked a bit about Captain Fray in terms of how he’s a Superman character despite being a villain. I guess you could call this one "What if Superman was a public domain comic strip character, stripped of the importance of being the founding figure of a super popular genre or extended universe, and also was kind of ugly?".
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He's not "Sloth from the Goonies" ugly, I swear I didn't actually have Sloth in mind when typing out this idea, I've never watched that film nor did I know until now that he actually spends the film in a Superman shirt. That's not really what I'm going for. Visually I was thinking of modeling my take on Superman heavily after Hugo from Street Fighter and his inspiration Andre the Giant, to really emphasize the “circus strongman / freak wrestler” aspect of Superman’s inspiration, particularly in regards to how Hugo’s SFIII version strikes a really great balance in making Hugo ugly and both comedic and fearsome in battle, as well as lovable and even a little dopey (without being outright stupid, like his IV self) in his victory animations and endings.
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He's still Superman, he still goes on fantastical adventures to help people, he's still a deeply loving and compassionate soul whose face beams with joy and affection and who's got wonderful eyes and a great smile. It's just that this smile has a couple of mismatched stick-out teeth or some missing ones, and he's got a crooked smile some people take as smug or malicious, he’s got a strongman’s gut instead of a bodybuilder’s abs, his nose is a little busted (maybe he’s had too many crash landings), and his hair is a little wild or greasy, and he doesn't exactly have very good people skills because of how others usually react to him and, y'know, he doesn't get the kind of publicity Superman would get despite doing ostensibly the same things. He’s not deformed, he’s incredibly intelligent and capable, but in comparison to how superheroes are usually allowed to look, he might as well be Bizarro in the public eye.
It becomes a running gag that people tend to assume some nearby fireman or cop was the one who rescued the hundred orphans out of a burning building single-handedly, meanwhile he's getting accosted off-panel by police officers who think he set the building on fire, or think they can bully this weird man dressed funny. He goes to rescue old people in peril and occasionally they yell at him that they don't have any money. He doesn't get asked to lead superhero meetings or teams even though many in the community advocate for just how much he does for the world, he gets censored out of tv broadcasts or group shots (even his face is sometimes pixelated when they do show him), people invite him on talk shows and don't really let him talk or assume they got the wrong guy. He goes to rescue a woman dangling off a building, and then he gets attacked by like three different superhero teams who assume he must have kidnapped the poor damsel. He was the first superhero, he is the strongest of them all still, but he never really gets credit for it, it nor does he even want to. None of this at all stops him or deters him, except for some occasionally funny reactions.
This never really changes for him, he doesn't really earn people's approval nor does he have to, instead the stories, outside of the gags and adventures you’d expect from a comic strip, veer more towards others learning to be less judgmental and him learning ways to better approach people. He isn't any lesser than Superman just because he doesn't look like most people would want him to look and he doesn't have to look like Superman. Really I think we could use more superheroes that don’t look all so uniformly pretty.
Again, probably not a take that would work for Clark proper, but it’s one way I would take a shot at doing Superman with my own
I have other stuff in the works for this character but I'd like to keep them to better work on them for now, but yeah, these are three of my shots at developing a Pulp Superman.
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Alternatively here's a fourth idea that's more pulp than all of these: Join up Nicholas Cage with Panos Cosmatos again, or whatever weird indie director he decides to pair up with next, and let them do whatever the hell they want with Superman. Give us Mandy Superman. Superman vs The Color Out of Space. Superman vs Five Nights at Freddy's. Superman’s quest to find THE LAST PIG OF KRYPTON. Anything goes.
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asimpfor2dcharacter · 3 years
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Note: In this chapter there will mention two of my oc ( original character) their physical appearance will be present in the future chapters.
When you see this sign -- it means a flashback started/ended
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Previous chapter Masterlist
Chapter 2: Cafè and tea
In the morning the rain was strumming against the window of her room and  she was preparing herself to go into the living room. She decided to wear a light pigiama suited for the weather and thought that it was unnecessary to wear the golden ring she usually uses because no one was going to see it anyway beside her parents. It has already been several days since she came back to Japan and she mostly spent her time with her parents: cooking with her mother, training with her father and beating him in a game of chess. Mundane actions that people usually do with their parents but she can't, due to the fact that she lives far from them.
She decided to join his father in the kitchen who was busy cooking breakfast.
Aizawa noticed the presence of his daughter when she entered the room, 
"Goodmorning Y/n, your mom already left this early in the morning to work".
"Morning Dad, are those pancakes?," she asked, setting the table.
"Yes your favourite, you can already eat the one on the table while it's still hot ," he said, pointing at the table where there were several pancakes on a plate.
"Thanks Dad," she glanced outside the window and there was still a drizzling rain, " the weather forecasts show that around lunch time there will be sun for the rest of the day, so me and Yuga  planned to meet each other in a cafè nearby,".
"That sounds great," he flipped the last pancakes on the pan and he put it on his plate and then he took a chair beside her daughter.
"Well dad thank you for the breakfast,".
While cutting his food, he asked her, "Y/n in a few days I have the final appointment at the tailor shop for my wedding suit. I wanted to ask you if you can come with me?,".
"Are you asking  me that because you genuinely want me to be there or you  just don't want to be alone with uncle Mic?," she said while spreading the Nutella on her pancake.
"A mix of both, so are you coming?,".
"Of course I will, it's not everyday to see you in such a formal outfit," he rolled his eyes at her daughter's comment, making her tease her father more, knowing his preference over more comfortable clothes rather than elaborate one's.
"But Dad, one week before I came here in Japan you told me that Nezu offered you the position of UA principal, have you already made a decision?,".
Once he heard the question, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and slowly he put the fork on the table. "Honestly no". 
"Why?".
"I thought about it and Y/n I know it's a great honour to be the UA principal but," crossing his arm he continued, " I'm getting older and I don't if I can continue to be a hero for more years let alone be the UA principal," he said touching his left leg. She knew what exactly he meant with those words. "Beside," he added, " working as a principal, sure does take off your free time and I prefer spending my free time with your mom rather than working on paperworks,".
"You really love mom," she said.
"Well yeah, that's why I'm marrying her," he admitted with a smile on his face.
"That's it I'm going to tell mom when she comes back home,".
"Please don't, she will tease me about it for the whole week,". 
Both of them almost finished  eating their food when her father asked, "Y/n I know you told us you took this vacation for health reasons but it might also be because of those articles about you?". 
She immediately stopped eating, her eyes were avoiding his father's gaze, almost ashamed to meet them,"So you saw it".
"Yes I saw them, I read those negative reviews about your latest book so does your mom but don't get down on yourself. I know how negative opinions of others can bring you down but don't forget that you will always have me and your mom support you for everything. Me and your mom just want you to communicate with us when something is wrong," and now it was his turn to avoid her gaze, not wanting her to see his eyes tearing up, "we just don't want to repeat what happened to you six years ago,".
She listened attentively at his words, she knows how both of her parents suffered for the events of that day and she promised to herself that it will never happen again, "I know dad I'm working on it and I promise you, you will never see me again in that situation".
"Your mom and I just what the best for you," he said, patting gently on your head.
"I know dad I know," she admitted, giving her father a reassuring smile.
"Oh wait, you said your meeting Aoyama right," he pulled out from his pocket his wallet and gave her 13,000 yen  (99 in euro, 117 in dollars), "here take it,".
"Dad, I'm twenty-six years old, I can pay for my stuff,".
"Just take it ok," He replied while sipping a cup of coffee pretending not to hear the protest coming from his daughter.
 
After the deep conversation she had with Aizawa this morning, she was now preparing to meet Aoyama. Once  choosing her outfit, she decided to wear the golden ring on the fourth finger of her left hand to complete the look. Fortunately the weather forecast was right and it was a sunny day outside and her best friend informed her that they will meet in a cafe. He told her how excited he was to try their famous cheesecake and the way he described the pastry makes her want to try.
It took only twenty minutes by walking from her house to arrive at the cafè shop Aoyama told her. From the outside the wall of the shop  was black and it was ornated with several climbing plants, there was also a big wooden door as the entrance and inside the place it was rather a cozy atmosphere.
 She was searching for her best friend who was in disguise to avoid fans attention towards him and he told her to be able to recognise him, he was wearing a green merchandise t-shirt of Deku with a pair of dark sunglasses and a dark blue bucket hat. After searching for a couple of minutes she finally saw her friend in the most isolated part of the shop and near him there was a TV attached to the wall. He was sitting in a chair using his phone but she noticed something different from her best friend. 
"I can't believe he really did that," she thought.
"Yuga I thought you were joking when you said to me you were going to dye your hair," admiringing his new hair color now similar to the shade of blonde of Lucius Malfoy.
After some years of not seeing her in person, he immediately gave her a warm hug, "Y/n!!! It's so nice to see you again". 
"Yuga, you don't know how much I missed you," she said, returning back the hug, "it's been two years since  we saw each other and the last time was when you visited me in New York".
"And what were you saying about my hair, for your information," flipping his hair with a hand in a too dramatic way, " these are amazing," he said, not caring too much about him blowing up his disguise.
"Whatever you say Lucius Malfoy. So how is my favourite hero?," she asked once they took their seats.
He confesses to her the struggle of being the number fifteen hero, how the paparazzi each day that pass are becoming more determined to invade his private life and his agency already gave five restriction orders to five paparazzi only this  last three months. He can't imagine how difficult it is for higher ranking heroes to maintain  their privacy, he admitted, but on a positive note he and his team are working hard to climb higher in the hero rankings this year and they are also trying to sign better sponsorships with other companies' brands.
"So yeah, this is basically what I've been doing in the last months," he picked the menu card, " and you, my favourite writer, keep me updated on what is happening in your life," he asked, flipping the menu card.
"Well first I'm sorry for what happened to you with the paparazzi, at least your agencies manage the whole situation well but don't worry I don't have any doubts that you will achieve the top ten hero podium. So you wanted to know my personal life or my work life?,".
"All of it," He admitted with a devilish smile painted on his face.
"You jerk, so where do I start," taking a deep breath, "let's talk first about work, even though I told my parents it was my own decision to be on holiday, actually, it is more like my agency imposed me to take this vacation, because of the critiques. Although my recent book was a success to the public, the critiques were, well, quite harsh. 
I have been working in this industry for a long time to develop a thick skin towards harsh criticisms but my agency didn't take it well, they told me, I should take time off from working before publishing a new book. They don't want to see again what they read about me in those articles written by literary critics, phrases like 'The book is so predictable, 'Has Adrianne lost her spark of writing?', 'The book is not on the same level as the other that she wrote', 'I will not even read to meet pets'.
He put down the menu card in his hands, "Y/n, I'm sorry for what happened to you but don't let those critics let you down. I know your worth as an writer and looks like also my colleagues know it, the way they were down knowing you took half year off from writing, you should have seen their reaction when they red what those literary critics wrote about you they were furious to them and every time they talk about your stories and theories about it, their face are engulfed of joy" he said taking both of your hands in his and slightly squeeze it. "Y/n if you can only see the happiness of my co-workers imagines the joy you bring to others millions of people that read your stories around the globe," he expressed with a smile on his face, after all the years that you know him that smile always brings you comfort. "Y/n remember you are the one who brought that medium company to become one of the biggest and most important company in New York with your amazing works, you are their big fish. Even if those literary critics didn't like your books, what can your company do against you? Fire you? Please they are nothing without you," he added.
Trying to not laugh at his last statement, she dried the tears forming in her eyes for the words of support from her friend, she said, "Ohhh Yuga chan, you really know how to make a woman cry".
He winked at her, "What can I say, it's the charm of being a hero".
"Ok let's stop with these tear-jerking moments and let's order." Playfully slapping his arm and picking up the menu card to choose what to order. "I honestly don't know what to pick besides their cheesecake, there are so many to choose from".
"Well I also recommend you to check their drinks,".
Flipping through the pages of the menu card, she decided what to choose, " I know what to order and you?," He nodded indicating to her, he was also ready to order.
A waitress came towards them after she called her, "Hi, are you ready to take an order?".
Y/n spoke for both of them, " Yeah, we both chose the cheesecake and for the drinks a black tea and a bottle of water".
"I'm sorry to say this but there is only one cheesecake left," the waitress informed them both.
"It's ok Y/n you can take it-"
"You are more excited than me to try their cheesecake, so I will pick the tiramisù instead of the cheesecake," she said to the waitresses.
Once the waitress was gone Aoyama told her best friend, " I still can't believe it, our friendship basically started thanks to cheese".
She laughed at what he said because it was basically the truth, she remembered the day she met him.
--
Her mother gave birth to her in Musutafu, Japan, but at the age of five her mother decided to move to London. When the young girl asked the reason why they needed to reside in another country, her mother's eyebrow frowned at the question but there was an evident sadness in her eyes and a wounded look  she tried to hide under a smile. Her mom lowered herself to approach the same height of her child and with her hand she gently patted the hair of her daughter and with hesitation she answered "It's for the best".
So the single mother and her daughter lived their life in tranquillity, trying to fit in a new community and culture with her mother working as a nurse in a big hospital in London and her going to school and living most of her childhood in England.
Y/n didn't make a lot of friends considering her timid nature until one day she discovered a blog that contains: information, fun facts and new discovery about cheeses. A lot of kids around her age didn't like the smell of it and they always say it because the smell of it reminds them of sticky feet. So when she met on this blog a person around her same age that also has the same passion as her they immediately became friends and this boy's name was Yuga Aoyama. 
The young girl and her online friend almost spent their time together, talking about what they wanna be in the future. 
"Y/n chan when I grow up I want to be a hero just like All Might," the young boy announced, showing to her the All Might plushie.
"I don't really know what I want to be when I grow up, maybe just like my mama?. I just want one day to meet you in person Yuga,". 
Unbeknownst to the ten years old girl, her wish will become reality when her mother informs her that they will go back to live again in Musutafu ,Japan. Her mom receives an offer to work as an assistant for Recovery Girl and to her mother's surprise her daughter was more than happy to go back to Japan because this means that she will have the opportunity to meet her online friend in person. 
After five years living in England they are finally back in Japan. Her mother was euphoric for the fact that both of them are finally back in their home country and after a few weeks of fixing their apartment Y/n didn't lose time to meet her online friend in person and they decided to meet near the UA school.
After meeting in person the two became closer to each other and their friendship solidified over the years until they both went to the UA high school with Aoyama achieving his dream to go to the hero course and her simply frequenting the general department. 
The first year of UA recently started and Aoyama and her were walking in the hallway of the school to go to the cafeteria during lunch break, their peaceful conversation was interrupted when they heard loud noises coming from their back.
There was a boy with blond hair and a black lightning symbol on his hair that just passed them running from something or rather from someone, "You see that boy his name is Kaminari, one of my classmates but I don't know why he's running this fast".
She was going to tell her best friend something until she heard another loud sound of explosion coming from  behind her. When she turned around to see what was the cause of the tumult the girl notice another blond boy running towards them with a furios remark on his face, the boy was clearly using his quirk in the school hallway, even if he wasn't allowed to, a blast of explosion appearing on his hands to be able to run faster and Y/n seeing all of this was already ready to ignore it until she heard.
"SHINE!".
After hearing those words coming from the blond boy, Y/n was astonished by what she realised and she didn't even register that she basically screamed to the boy, "What it's you".
Bakugo was searching for Kaminari trying to teach him a lesson for a stupid prank that him and Mineta played on him. After giving a lesson to Mineta it was Kaminari turns now, he was running to find him until he lost sight of him, the only evidence where to find him was hearing his scream of terror trying to escape from Bakugo. The angry blond male immediately knew where the noise was coming from and it was from the hallway near the cafeteria and of course Bakugo didn't lose time and he instantly used his quirk to run faster towards the hallway where the scream of Kaminari was coming from.
Out of frustration he let out a curse but he didn't know that screaming that word  can change his life forever.
In the hallway he saw his classmate Aoyama and a girl near him, he was going to ignore them until the unknown girl screamed at him.
Bakugo was continuously running but eventually lose his balance and control of his quirk when the girl in front of him screamed at him, his pupil become more dilated and suddenly his breath grow shorter until he was a few steps from the unknown  girl and at that moment he completely lose track of his footstep making him fell on the ground with the girl under him.
Y/n didn't understand what just happened, her body was lying on the ground and she felt a weight of another person on top of her, when she opened her eyes she was greeted with a pair of carmine eyes observing  her movement attentively. 
" Fuck it's you then ," Bakugo said.
--
"Y/n ," he called her, "you were zoning out," he added.
"I'm sorry I was thinking of something," she created an excuse, mentally scolding herself to stop reminiscing about the past with rose tinted glasses.
He was going to say something until both of their attention was now focused on the tv near them.
There was a lady in her thirties announcing that one month from now there will be an annual hero gala and the woman was presenting which heroes will be present that night. The lady was showing pictures of various superheroes which some of them were familiar to Y/n from Aoyama and old UA students but what caught her attention was the remark that the woman said when she presented the pictures of Bakugo and her girlfriend.
Look at those two our national sweet couple, we all can't wait to see them and in a few months by now there will be their six years anniversary together .
Y/n and Yuga looked at each other's eyes and they cringed at that nickname that the host gave them.
"National sweet couple? Seriously?," she asked, trying to hold her laugh.
A hand in front of his mouth to suppress his laugh, he said, "Believe me there are worse nicknames that I heard about those two. But you know what is more interesting," he suddenly lowered his voice and asked her to come near him, "there are some rumours in the hero circle that say that Bakugo cheated multiple times on Yua".
At his last statement, she looked with sadness at the golden ring present on her fourth finger and thought  Well this isn't like the first time that happen.
" but you know,  what is the most interesting part of the 'cheating rumors' about Bakugo is that none of it comes out from the public's eyes," he added.
"Well this is strange considering this is the type of news paparazzi and the media will fight to know ".
Suddenly the conversation she was having with her friends was interrupted when a waitress served them their food.
"Y/n  let's stop talking about Bakugo love life, tell me about yours-".
"Not existent," she cut him short.
"Oh c'mon Y/n there will be someone who can make your heart beat again- ".
His complaints were interrupted with the ring of her phone.
"Who is it?," he asked.
She checked her phone and told him, " It's Aki".
"Speaking of the devil. You mean that Aki, the son of the president of the company you work for? The golden bachelor of your company and every female tried to seduce but failed eventually?," he said, drinking his tea.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your fantasies but he's only a good friend of mine, probably he only called just to talk about work knowing him," she admitted, answering the call.
"Hi Aki, ohh you're coming to Japan, when?,".
She heard her friend whispering to her, "Interesting," she rolled her eyes at her friend's comment.
"Ok bye Aki,".
"So what did you talk about,".
She told Aoyama what they talked about and it was mainly about work. Aki is the vice president of the company and in a few days he will come to Japan to take over an important project that was to build a new branch company located in Tokyo.
"And he also asked me if he can take me out to dinner when he will be here,".
"Well well well this sounds like a date to me. Do you ever think that he might have feelings for you?," he asked.
She defended herself, "We knew each other for a few years now, if he ever had feelings for me I should have noticed it by now".
" Y/n , I mean you didn't even notice when Bakugo had-".
She knew exactly where he was coming from and she didn't like it. She touched the ring in her finger with her other hand and with a firm voice  she said to him, " Aoyama, stop, I might have not noticed in the past  but now I will definitely know if someone has it".
Aoyama noticed her discomfort around that particular subject and he immediately tried to ask for forgiveness, "I'm sorry. I should've thought better before bringing it out that subject".
"It's ok Yuga. I shouldn't be angry with you about things that happened years ago," she comforted him, returning to her calm nature.
"No no no I'm on the wrong side this time and I want you to forgive me by going shopping and let me pay for your stuff," he informed her.
"Wait no you shouldn't do it-".
"I insist Y/n and I don't accept no for an answer," he announced, winking at her.
"I mean if you insist….". 
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calientecoochie · 3 years
Text
It Happened So Fast-
•1•
From a mundane, cushy home to Japan Y/N went. Yes, it was nerve wracking to not only believe and see it was happening right in front of their face but, that the agency had accepted you so easily with such a minimal resume. Sure, you knew your stuff but barely anyone would give you the time of day to show off your natural skills. If one thing was certain, F/L/N knew how portray even the worst of the worst in the best light. However, F/L/N’s Japanese was very poor and just borderline coherent. Time to brush up while on the way there...
~L A T E R~
Y/N doesn’t even know where to begin to look. Everything was moving so fast and just so, so crowded!
Gah! Did I make a mistake?! No! We belong here! They selected us. They must’ve seen something worthwhile in you. Suck it up and keep it moving. I already accepted the one way trip anyway...
“Now to find my bags. Who to ask? Who to ask?? Ah, an attendant! Hopefully, my Japanese isn’t too shabby”
They power walked towards the attendant and asked where the luggage claim area would be. Albeit, poorly, followed with hand mannerisms and a several stares but, one understanding host and a frazzled staff later, Y/N’s bags were secured. Thank god.
What were the directions again? Someone was supposed to pick me up, right? Mmmm, let me read the notes again. Y/N pulled up the notes on their phone. They were not the best but still understand...kind of. Once the plane ride was done, someone IS supposed to pick us up. Apparently, 15 minutes ago. So, either we keep missing them or, they’re late.
“I guess- I guess I’ll just head outside then.”
~30 minutes later~
The people have thinned out quite a bit. The sky was slowly but surely becoming a darker blue mixed with beautiful orange and pink hues. Gorgeous.
Sigh...Okay, this is becoming re-damn-diculous, “If this was prank why the HELL would you pay even go through with paying for a plane ticket? A last minute one at that.. I’m already here... might as well enjoy a free trip.”
Just as Y/N sets their feet on the ground, a loud motor could be heard approaching.
A very nice, very sleek matte black sports car with a little yellow stripe on the side sped past Y/N. It just barely missed hitting the curb. For a the few seconds it zoomed by, Y/N swore they heard a loud Chris Brown song bumping within the car.
“Does everyone drive like a bat out of hell around here?!”
As if that was the que, the car froze and flung into reverse (just as fast) just to stop again at Y/N’s feet. The window rolls down and we are greeted with two men. The driver, who had a god awful smolder, had yellow blonde hair with a black stripe (opposite scheme of his car) with fox-like eyes. He had on a plain black shirt and red basketball shorts. The passenger held a bright, friendly smile (his eyes told a different story as they glaring towards the driver). He had beautiful, medium black hair, pulled back into a bun near the nap of his neck. He wore a blank white shirt and black, slightly baggy jeans.
Are these two my ride...uhhh :/
“Hey, baby” Y/N internally cringes, not at his broken English but, at the unwarranted flirting, “Looking for a ride?” The blonde winked. “We were told to come pick you up butttt how about we hang out instead? I know ALL the good spots.” He waggles his eyebrows to emphasize his poorly masked innuendo.
Unamused and tired Y/N spoke monotone, “ No thank you. I’ll just walk back to where I came from.” They grab their bags and start walking.
The blonde slowly paced the car to remain along side Y/N. “H-hey, beautiful, you don’t want to do that! You’ll probably drown you know!” The black haired passenger breathes a heavy sigh, head in his hand and other hand on the wheel as he witnesses the driver attempt to bring the stranger into the car.
“That’s the plan.”
The car rode along in silence with a defeated blonde hanging out of the window. The black haired passenger decided to step in and salvage the situation, “Denki, stopped the car” Denki stops the car while the passenger pushes the blonde’s face out of the way of the car window, “Aye, Mami/Papi, come back, please! I apologize for my friend. You see, he’s a bit brain fried. You can keep walking if you want but, the ocean is one hell of a detour just to go back to (place you’re from). Kiri would be disappointed. He’s never met a Y/N before.”
Upon hearing their name and their place of origin, Y/N froze from their walk of anger. “Ho- Kir-!!” Y/N squints theirs eyes and starts to approach the sports car, “Who are you and how do you know my name?”
The raven haired man, smirked and tilted his head to the side, “ Sero but you may know Cellophane better-
“Never heard of him.”
Sero shrugged and just leaned back in his friend’s seat, “And I know you’re name because we were sent to pick you up. DENKI just needed to make ‘“a few’” stops before we picked you up. If I had know we were taking the whole damn store, I would just gotten you myself. So sorry.”
Silence hung in the air for a bit.
“So, do I just get in or...
Denki perked up at, “<Yeah! Yeah! Just climb on in!>” he began pumping his fist in excitement. He practically had stars in his eyes.
Y/N barely registered what Denki had said looking towards Sero for some kind of explanation.
“Oh! He said come on in! We will take to to your place first then bring you to Red Riot’s agency”
“<Bro, why are you calling him by his hero name?>”
“<I don’t know if they even know Ei’s actual name, man>”
Once, Sero and you get your bags packed, the three of you go off to your new home...
~An hour later~
“<HEY, HEY WE ARE HERE, GORGEOUS!>” Y/N’s waking mind barely registered Denki’s broken “get ups” and “this place is sicks” before their eyes set on the outrageously beautiful home in front of them. It was small but looked so luxurious. Bay windows and a tiny garden surrounded the home. Sero comes to Y/N’s ear with their bags, “Yup, it all you, man. Nice place to. Kinddd of jealous.” He continued walking to your house with your bags. He was joking of course.
Denki came by and slapped your back and spoke in his his best English, “Like it that much, huh! You’re literally stuck on the driveway!”
“You know, you don’t have to speak english all the time to me. I can speak some Japanese” Denki gave a shy smile at Y/N.
“<Haha, I can’t be that bad, right? I have to admit though it’s pretty cool you could speak Japanese. We’re you born here and just moved or did they teach you in school? Ooh, ooh, this is just so awesome!” Denki turned towards a confused Y/N.
Y/N just twiddles their thumbs and looks downward,”<C-Could you repeat that for me? I couldn’t catch anything after right, haha..>”
“Same boat,huh” Denki smirks
“<Same boat.” Y/N replies.
“Yo, are you two going to keep talking or are we going to look inside? We could also got to the agency. You’re call, la Monada.”
Y/N ponders for bit, “Let’s see the agency. This home is beautiful but I’ll get to see it plenty after my place of work.”
~At Red Riot’s Agency~
“...This place is huge...” Y/N stood practically in the middle of the sidewalk , mouth agape and looking upwards.
“Hey, Y/N, Sparky and I are going to head inside to see, the Big Boss, you coming?”
“Y-yeah in a bit! Thank you, Sero”
“Remember: elevators on the far right. Push the highest button!” Denki shouted, “If you go to the far left it will take you to a completely different building! See you up there, Y/N!”
With that, your new acquaintances left. You look at your surroundings which is pretty futile seeing as it just leads back to the RR Agency. “So big...”
“If you think that’s big you should see my manly pal, Bakubro’s. His is huge!! He was always a showoff though. I like to think of it as good competition” A hearty laugh filled your ears.
“AHH!!”
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heywoodvirgin · 3 years
Text
Borró Cassette ( Chapter 2)
Guys, writing is really not my thing, but I love Jackie so much not to try to ^^ 
Chapter 1 here ^^ 
Modern!Jackie Welles / Original Female Character 
Rated : Teens and up 
angst and fluff ahead ! 
*** 
- Medium plier.
It was the first thing he said in ten minutes or so.
Jack was under his cruiser’s wheels, hands focused on oiling some pieces of his machine’s brakes when she stepped into the garage.
For the first two weeks following their… argument, Mey avoided taking that route, instead opting for a detour that made her waste a solid thirty minutes every morning and evening. She thought avoiding places they used to share was a temporary solution, she was wrong. Every step she took in the opposite direction made her think about him longer, recalling all the hours he so generously spent teaching a slow learner like her how to ride a moto, how he’d always secured her helmet himself every time he took her for a ride, and those were many times, so many she couldn’t count anymore.
So when Mey finally decided to stop whatever childish game she was playing -not replying to his texts and calls, among others- and test her luck, she found herself standing gracelessly in the middle of his garage, blocking the last rays of sun he was using to work.
For long minutes, she stayed planted there, like a stupid scarecrow, marinating her anxiety, unable to say the word that mattered most. He noticed her, of course he did, and said nothing, just a flash of surprise in his eyes, and he was under his moto gain. It wasn’t like Jackie to act cold like that. Resentful wasn’t in the list of words to describe Jackie Welles, not even in the bottom line. He never ignored her. It felt so wrong to be in the receiving end of his spite or whatever this was. She missed the warmth of her friend; it was almost shocking now, as she realized it.  It was just one small “sorry”, but she still didn’t feel it in her, she still didn’t feel like she was the one that should say sorry. He fucked up, he should know, by now. But also, she knew that his apologies should go to the person his wrongs were directed to, not to her, if she would take her time and think.  But now, all she wanted, was a heart-to-heart talk, something she played in her mind over and over, every day during two weeks and five days and twelve hours, and here she was standing, mind blank, not even capable of uttering a simple hello.
When she finally found the guts to move and sit carefully on the sofa, and when he still didn’t react, she felt the panic, acid prickling at her skin. The sun had completely set down, last rays licking the far away mega buildings of the city, the garage lights flickered on. It was a quiet summer evening, one of few they had in the crazy city, but her neighborhood was one of the quietest, she had to admit. She liked it most of the time, but today wasn’t one of those days, it felt like the entire world went silent on her. That till he spoke.
- Medium plier.
She blinked a few times before she registered his request, moving to fetch the tool from its box, still memorizing perfectly the space around.
- Screwdriver, 4.
And it went like that for an hour or so, them moving about and working together. She was glad he offered her that physical occupation, even if it was mainly her handing him his tools and watching him sweat under his machine.  For a minute, her mind was just on the craft and she was relieved he still sounded pretty himself as soon as he opened his mouth, even if them occupying their hands didn’t prevent her mind to go racing about everything, and his too, she could tell in the way they couldn’t look each other in the eye, yet.
It was until he threw at her a wet rag to wipe her hands and she creased her nose because of the reeking petrol smell that they exchanged an amused look.
- Hey, never get used to the smell huh?
She shrugged, briefly smiling.
- So how have you been? He looked at the floor, discarding the wet rag near an old stool.
- Fine, she nodded to the floor, fighting a sudden rush of tears, trying to contain them in, in vain.
- Ven aqui.
He didn’t need to say more and she was in his arms. She didn’t remember him giving her hugs like that before, she shut her eyes, crushed against him, fisting his shirt, and he seemed to reciprocate, folding his bulk around her. He smelled like gas and sweat, but she only buried her head further in his chest. After some time like that she could feel the breath knocked off her chest and she started laughing
- Eres un idiota, you know that, she mumbled in a huff, a big idiot.
- I really shouldn’t teach you this one, but I know right, sorry hermana, I really mean it.
- Well, sorry too, she shrugged, as they let go of each other's embrace.
- Hey, no more tears, ok? Drink with me tonight?
- Sure, but just a lil', ok? She sniffed.
- Pft, aguafiestas, he grumbled, picked up two bottles of tequila and passed her one.
- So to what are we drinking tonight?
-  A la reunión! Amiga!
- A la reunión, then!
- Opening one of your expensive ones, just for me? she winced after one little gulp.
- Solo pa’ti, hermana, even if I know you’d rather go for one of your exotic stuff, tomatoes juice or something like that…
- Shut up, since when is tomatoes juice exotic, she internally face palmed.
- It is if I say so. Come on now, let’s sit, I’m beat, and starvin’.
- When aren’t you. She teased as he put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the couch.
They sat comfortably in silence for some time.  When she finished her bottle, he was already at his third or fourth.
-You, Mimi, you won’t close the door on me anymore, huh, any door…
She could tell the alcohol started to work its way to his head. He was starting to tell her things that she could misunderstand, like only him could…
- Hey, hey, no more tequila tonight, please? She gently took the bottle from his hands. His usually warm palms were clammy and cold, shaking slightly.
- It’s a bad day, not a bad year, and even if it is, it certainly won’t be a bad life, remember, these are your own words you used to tell me.
- Si, recuerdo. He chuckled sadly.
- How can we regret something we don’t want, Huh.
- Do you, Jack? Mey’s throat was oppressed; she kept her voice low, as if afraid to hear her friend’s answers. She felt powerless, the weight of his grief falling on her chest. She knew that whatever she would say now, it wouldn’t be enough.
- What if I do Mimi, it’s done you know… it’s gone… I killed it.
- Shut, shut no, Jackie, no. If it’s someone’s fault, it should be mine, too. She softly scratched his scalp, a failed attempt to soothe him. His body was stiff with unshed tears, tension threatening to break at any moment, and she wished he would at last, cry. Let it seep out of his system. She wished he could do it with her, as tears pickled at the corners of her eyes, stinging, fat drops of salty water, falling free.
- How’s that your fault too, Mey? He turned with questioning eyes, and she found her courage failing her, as his eyes searched her face and her hand fell on his forehead. It was still hard to look him in the eyes.
- I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve been there when you were alone facing this decision I-
- You being there wouldn’t change my decision, hermana. It was already settled, and for some time now. Me and Lin, wasn’t working anyway.  
- Because you didn’t want it to work. She didn’t want to accuse him in any way, it was a statement that she and he both knew was true.
- Because I didn’t want it to work.
- Why? she asked in a little voice.
- Eh, the boxer and the super model, you believed it too?
- I- thought it was perfect, Jack, I really did.
At least for some time.
- You’re a romantic.
- Look who’s talking, she let out a teary laugh.
- But that’s not what I was talking about… I meant…
- I know what you meant, and there too, it wouldn’t have changed a thing.
The silence that followed was the heaviest Mey had ever felt between them.
- How… How did she take it?
- Surprisingly well. She’s a smart girl, Mimi. Bet that’s why she wanted us to be engaged, can’t blame her for not trying.
- She is a good woman, Jack.
- Lo sé, lo sé. Jackie said quiet, tears wetting the fabric of her dress. It was good, she thought. He still trusted her enough, enough to let her see his most vulnerable side, even after almost a month of absence, of total silence.
It was such a relief, if she let herself be honest. To find him again, broken, but still her friend who would call her hermana, offer to make dinner and end up dozing off, head in her lap.
It felt good to touch him again, too. Now in the quiet hours of the night, she could hear the cold neon lights purring, electricity running through the garage’s old wires, the tunes of whatever music he left on, that was almost muted, reached her from the furthest corner of his hideout. It smelt like motor oil and alcohol and old leather, a bit of him too, and before the knots in her stomach started to twist again, she talked herself to go and let him rest.
-Don’t you think it’s time to go and get some sleep in that fancy bed of yours? She prompted, trying to sound as light as she intended.
-Nah. Like it here more, reminds me of where I came from. ‘sides, it’s comfortable.
-Might be comfy for you, big head, but my legs are starting to get numb, so… She tried to shake his head off her lap, playfully pushing at his shoulders.
- Don’t even try, weak ass.
- That’s abuse of power!
- La niña learned to talk, too. Not bad.
- Fuck off.
- What about you going home now, huh, I’m just gonna crash here tonight. Couch’s enough comfort for my ass, for now.  He straightened up, rubbed his eyes, dusted his jeans, offered a hand for her to take.
- Or you can crash on mine. She shrugged, taking his offered hand and fighting a blush. Or not- she started when the response took a bit long to come.
- Let’s get the fuck outta here, then. And he gave her a real smile, this time.
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blissfulalchemist · 3 years
Note
“You can share my jacket with me, since you’re shivering.” + dealer's choice!
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Thank you Kate! Look at me posting some writing with Hypatia without formal introduction. I hope you enjoy it. X
Cities were never much my thing. Even as a kid I always felt this need to get away to find open space, so much so my mom used to joke about putting me on a rocket to the stars, then I could have all the space I wanted. So while St. Louis was no New York or Los Angeles it was still a city and so it felt like a prison, a feeling that didn’t get better by being cooped up inside a building near twenty four seven. Those of us that were recruited were only allowed outside, fully equipped with fresh air, with supervision at specific times of the day, and then confined to our rooms once night came. Those were the rules and for me….rules were made to be broken. After a few failed attempts I managed to find the one way I could always, one hundred percent guaranteed, have access to the roof in the dead of night. My small haven on nights I couldn’t sleep, the moments of peace I could cling too. 
Two years, I had spent two years with the Alchemists readying myself for whatever they had in mind for me. Though they never said much about what they wanted from me specifically but it seemed so far that I was to stay at one of their biggest facilities, never to be transferred out. I had seen other witches come through the doors, get some training or teach some class, and then leave just like that. Some of the women giddy with excitement about where they were being sent too, others rolling their eyes about how their job was probably going to be desk work, but I never left. Little orphan Annie, I stayed where I was, mastering my craft and being put through so much physical training I almost wanted to ask if I was to become an assassin. Not that they’d tell me, it was a need to know and I wasn’t in the loop that needed to know. Soon though, I hoped that it would be soon I would have a chance at my first field run to show them I was more than ready to help them in their cause. 
For now I’m left sitting on the edge of this building looking up to the few stars I can make out and the cityscape sounds below me. I can hear footsteps as they approach the door on the far end of the roof, panic surging in my body for only a moment. I swing my legs back over from the edge, ducking down behind some electrical boxes, peeking just over the edge, heart pounding. The door opens and a figure steps out into the low lighting, male and tall, with a medium build. His clothing is a white collared shirt and beige blazer with matching pants, typical stiff Alchemist fashion. His features become more detailed as he leaves the shadow of the door, his auburn hair is falling into his grey eyes, hands in his pockets walking in my direction. The smile he wears almost hides the golden lily on his cheek from this angle as I stand, meeting his smile with a small eye roll, “No unauthorized personnel allowed up here Caro.” I cross my arms, shifting my weight onto my left leg, “Last I checked you’re not authorized.”
I smirk cocking an eyebrow, “And last I checked, neither are you, Conner,” he chuckles pushing his hair back, the pieces falling back to where they were, “Thought you left for the day already?”
He jumps up on the electric box crossing his legs beneath him, “Went to go and check on you and the recruits.”
My eyes widened, biting my lower lip, looking to the ground, “And you didn’t find me where I was supposed to be.”
Conner taps his nose twice, “Third time this month, T,” my mouth falls open and my heart races, “Don’t worry. I haven’t told and don’t plan too.” I let out a sigh taking a seat next to him. 
“Not like they could do much about it if you did,” I shrug flipping my hair behind my shoulder. It seems I need to make the illusion spell stronger. 
“I don’t even get a thank you,” he shakes his head playfully, “Typical Caro move,” he turns to me, face serious, “They could punish you still if they did find out though.”
I snort, “How? By transferring me out of this place,” I bring my knees to my chest, “I’d be glad for it. I’m starting to hate everything about this place.”
“You can’t hate everything about this place,” he says softly leaning his arms on his knees, “Can you?”
I glance over to him frowning as I see his solemn face, “No. Not everything.” I nudge his shoulder gently with mine, “Don’t hate you Conner. You’re about the only best thing about this place.”
The smile returns, “I could say the same about you, Tia,” I feel the corner of my lips start to pull into a smile, “If I felt that you were the best thing about this place, but the cappuccino machine takes that spot.” I groan rolling my eyes, of course he’d never admit to it, if he did it could be seen as getting too close to the “impure” witches. The Alchemists couldn't have that, nope, not while we still used our unnatural magic. All of us that joined made a vow to forgo our magic once the mission was over allowing ourselves to be pure once more. We both look to the city below us, the passing of headlights on the freeway grabbing our attention the most, “I always loved to see cities from above like this. Highways always reminded me of a river.” I scoff, rolling my eyes, “What was that for,” he asks, a smile evident.
“What was what,” I mock looking away from him to my right, nose pointing up.
He mimics my scoffing, “That. What was that for,” Conner pokes my shoulder a few times. “You got a problem with my views on the city?”
The longer I hold back any kind of response his teasing gets worse, until I groan, pushing his hand away, “I don’t have problems with them,” he rests his chin on his hand, eyes tired fixated on me, Conner doesn’t believe me. “I don’t honestly,” my hands are held up in defense, crossing my legs like him, “Just seems typical of a city boy to say something like that.”
Conner laughs, “Oh I see how it is now,” he shakes his head, “I didn’t live in anything close to a city until I was sixteen and even then it was only a small town.”
“What did you live on a farm before that,” I clear my throat, readying a terrible southern accent, “Hey y’all, my name’s Conner and this here is ma horse.”
I laugh as he rolls his eyes, “You think you’re real cute with your antics don’t you?”
“I think I’m down right adorable.”
“You’re far from adorable.”
“You got a better word to describe me farm boy?” I lean towards him resting my chin on his shoulder, my lips near brushing his slowly reddening cheek.
“I do,” he faces me, lips close to mine, whispering, “Annoying.”
I clutch my chest pulling away from him, “You wound me, Smallville,” the back of my hand makes contact with my forehead, leaning back, “I shall never recover from such an insult.”
“You insult me all the time.”
“I do not,” I lie, mouth falling open, “How can you accuse me of such a thing, cornhusker?”
“Just this morning you said the coffee had better taste than me for hair styles,” he starts to count on his fingers, “Then there was the other day where you said I was so stiff that even a stick wouldn’t fit up my ass. Or the time you said I don’t even shop at a thrift store for my clothing but the knock off of thrift stores.” 
“Those are facts not insults,” I correct.
Conner gives a smirk, the only way his dimples show, shaking his head, “Guess it’s just tomato, tomato with you isn’t it. Also are you going to keep going with the farm related nicknames now?”
“Just until something sticks, Kansas.”
He runs a hand down his face, “I didn’t even grow up on a farm you know that right? You just assumed that.”
“So you just grew up in a house in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not really,” he leans back on his hands, eyes looking to the sky, “It was a single street with some houses scattered around it. The school I went to was next to the store, which was next to the bed and breakfast, and so on.” I stare as his eyes become a little glassy with the memories, “Our house was on a few acres of land, still within walking distance, and we had a garden.”
I almost want to laugh at the idea of him tending to different flowers, hands and hair filled with the blossoms, I don’t though, not with the look of happiness in his eyes, “Your mom a florist?” 
He smiles, “Yeah. I guess so when you really think about it.” His head rolls to look at me lazily, “Guess we end up craving what we never got in the end.”
I tilt my head, “What do you mean?”
“You grew up in a city your whole life and yet when we found you, you were traveling the open road,” my heart aches at the mention of my life before here and how I may never have that again, “Always seemed to stick to the big open spaces of the desert.”
I flinch, “How do you know it's the desert that I spend the most time in?” Were they watching me for a lot longer than they told me originally? If they were, the question became why? 
“Whenever I ask you about your favorite places you always respond with places in the southwest,” he says matter of factly. I should have guessed, Conner’s smart and the only person I have real conversations with in this place. He looks me up and down, the wind has started to blow harder sending a chill through my body, “Your clothing also says a lot about your weather preference.” I look down to the dark purple tank top, with jean cutoff shorts, fishnet stockings, and black boots, my eyes narrowing.
He laughs as I give a light punch to his arm, “It does not. I just like dressing this way.”
“Tell me this then: Do you own anything heavier than a jean jacket?” I look away grumbling, crossing my arms, the goosebumps prominent, “Thought so. You never see yourself as needing one since you’ll never go as far north as Utah.” I hate that he’s right, even in the summers I never go much farther and the forests somehow feel just as packed as the city. I always keep saying one day, but it never came, an excuse always coming up as to why I couldn’t and shouldn’t go. I shiver again, rubbing my arms, Conner already shrugging off his blazer, “Here,” he places it on my shoulders, “You can share my jacket with me, since you’re shivering.” 
I push my arms though the sleeves, the warmth spreading through me as I inhale the spearmint and fresh cut pine lingering from his aftershave. “Thanks,” I smile, my dark hair blowing in the wind hiding the small blush I can feel on my cheeks, “Don’t think that I’ll be nice to you after this though.”
Conner laughs, lying back on the box, letting his legs hang off the edge, “Wouldn’t expect anything else from you Patia.” I shoot him a glare at the near use of my full name, “It’s not your full name, so I can get away with it.”
I sigh, stretching myself next to him, “For now, but you're on thin ice buddy.” My eyes search the stars picking out the different constellations hoping to see the one on my pendant.
“Why do you like the open spaces of the desert so much, T,” I hum, my mental star map lost for a moment, “The one thing I never really understood. I mean it’s pretty but there’s always something more with you to places.”
My hands reach for the silver pendant resting at the hollow of my collar bone, tracing the black engraved stars in the connecting parallelograms of Orion, “The stars. You can see all the stars at night.”
“That why you come up here?” I can feel his grey eyes on me as he shift slightly to get a better look, “To take in the ten stars that are visible?”
My brow knits, frowning as I turn to face him, “There’s more than ten stars to be seen here.”
He shakes his head, “I have counted many times over and I only get about ten, sometimes twenty on a really good night.”
I scoot closer to him, grabbing his hand, pointer finger out, “Let me show you. I can point out three constellations and the other stars I can see.” As I make invisible lines he keeps shaking his head, the lights hard to see or not there at all he claims. “I think you need to get your eyes checked, C-man,” I declare, shaking my head sadly, “cause you might be going blind and I can’t have that happen.”
“And why is that?”
“Because your life will fall to shambles if you can’t be graced with my beauty, that's why.”
He groans covering his face, “God what am I going to do with you?”
“You should be asking what you would do without me,” I tease, laughing at his features getting more tired with each word coming out of my mouth.
“I think it’s time to send you back into your cage for the night now,” he says, sitting up.
I whine, I know he’s doing it more for my safety, I’ve already spent too much time out here and the next checks would be coming soon. “Few more minutes,” I place my hand over his, Conner’s eyes glancing between his hand and my face a few times, “Please. You get to have me all to yourself for a little while longer.”
He stiffens, silent for a few moments before he swallows, nodding, “Okay. Just a few more minutes Caro.” Conner settles next to me, gaze avoiding me, keeping to the sky. The heat from his coat vanishing, the warmth of him that replaces it is enough to make the night wind more bearable, and I just know that the smell of spearmint will linger in my hair for the rest of the night. He really needs a new aftershave, he was never going to get a date with the scent of spearmint. That’s something for me to tell him tomorrow, because for now I just want to enjoy this moment of peace I’ll cling on to.
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emperorforanhour · 3 years
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Meta-Interview 3: Amazing. Never-Before-Seen.
Sophia sits back in the INTERVIEWER seat, still looking very out of place. On the other side, Wayneppoid is far more relaxed in his posture. A sun conure perches on top of his head, a few strands of hair captured in its beak. He seems unbothered by this. Sophia’s gaze drifts to the bird for a moment, before returning to the camera. 
Sophia: “Jazz is biting your hair, I believe-”
She is cut off by the bird, Jazz, squawking, which makes her jump back. Wayne reaches up and pets Jazz with one finger.
Wayne: “Jazz! No sexism.”
The bird squawks again, a little quieter, and hops onto Wayne’s shoulder, before crawling into his shirt. Wayne looks down, baby-talking to his bird.
Wayne: “You gonna let us do the interview, buddy?”
Jazz peeps, muffled by the fabric, and Wayne looks back to Sophia.
Wayne: “Alright, should be good now.”
Sophia: “Was there even a point to starting the recording on a timer if we’re going to be interrupted anyway?”
Wayne: “They got Jazz cam, it’s fine.”
Sophia: “Right, I suppose so.”
Sophia reaches for her clipboard again, flipping the pages back to the first.
Sophia: “I didn’t ask Sonic to introduce himself in his interview, but that was primarily because, well, as you’re aware, the audience is probably already well aware of who he is. Not that I mean any offense, but I don’t think you are quite as ubiquitous as him.”
Wayne: “None taken, it’s fucking Sonic. Wayneradiotv may be kinda popular but we aren’t doing Iron Man numbers.”
Sophia: “So… Who are you, then?”
Wayne clears his throat, and his voice shifts, sounding similar but… synthesized, rather than natural.
Wayne: “Have you heard of Hatsune Miku?”
Sophia: “I’m… not very familiar.”
Wayne: “It’s a reference, Sophia.”
Sophia: “Ah, my apologies.”
Wayne: “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, Miku’s a bunch of voice samples, and people use those to make songs without having to sing it themselves. So, I’m like that. But free!”
He coughs again, and his voice returns to normal.
Sophia: “But, that’s not all, yes?”
Wayne: “Well, yeah. I’m like, if Miku was the voice of a Twitch dude.”
Sophia: “Wayneradiotv?”
Wayne: “Yup. If any of you guys have seen the Half Life VR Funny, or that “THERE IS NO FRIDGE” bit? That’s him. He’s got a whole group of friends he streams with, as well, and they all do cool shit on the regular too. I’m basically him but digital, and also Miku.”
Sophia glances down at her clipboard, and looks back up, eyebrow raised.
Sophia: “I suppose you aren’t digital now, are you?”
Wayne: “Guess not. What am I now, a robot or something?” Sophia: “I don’t think it ought to matter too much. Though, isn’t Jazz the physical Wayne’s bird?”
Wayne: “Yeah. I guess he’s a clone? He hates women as much as the original, though.”
He reaches into his shirt to pet Jazz as he speaks. The bird chirps in response.
Sophia: “Right. So, I presume your, or rather his, experience with streaming is what you believe would make you a good interviewer?”
Wayne: “Yeah. I mean, Char’s a dick and Random…”
Sophia: “Is Random, yes.”
Wayne: “And like, no offense to Scratch, he’s a cool dude, but I dunno if he’d be able to handle being the face of something like this.”
Sophia: “Scratch is a DJ, he would be used to crowds.”
Wayne: “Yeah, but there’s a lot less talking going on there. And, uh, I don’t see him around the others much. Does he talk to the contestants?”
Sophia frowns, her gaze flicking to the camera.
Sophia: “I don’t think discussing a friend’s personal business is really fitting behaviour f-for an interviewer.”
Wayne: “Shit, sorry. I’m just kinda worried about him-”
Sophia: “W-We can talk about that afterward.”
Wayne: “Right. Okay. Anyway. Yeah, I mean I’m not actually Wayne or anything like that, but I’m basically him in personality and stuff, so I can… talk good. Some of the actual contestants are, uh, weird dudes, you don’t really want the interviewer to also be out of their goddamn mind, y’know?”
Sophia: “That’s true. I’m familiar with the concept of the ‘straight man’. Judging by your base’s most popular work, I’d say you’d fit that role well.”
Wayne: “Y’know people bitch about Gordon cuz they DON’T get what a straight man is?”
Sophia: “And yet I’m sure they’d complain twice as hard if it was just utter chaos.”
Wayne: “Yeah, exactly!”
Sophia nods, her gaze returning to her papers. Jazz wriggles in Wayne’s shirt in response to him getting louder.
Sophia: “Besides in terms of their potential as interviewers, what do you think of the other bonuses?... Hm. Obviously, besides anything unsuitable for broadcast, as well.”
Wayne: “You make it sound like I’m gonna start talking shit.”
Sophia: “S-Sorry, that’s… you know what I mean, though.”
Wayne: “I guess? Scratch is a cool dude, he’s recommended some absolute bangers. Wish I could get ‘em over to the real Wayne so he could add them to the stream playlist. Shame about his game.”
Sophia doesn’t respond. After a moment, she shakes her head as if remembering something and raises her eyebrow.
Sophia: “Hm?”
Wayne: “Yeah, you’re being weird about it again. I’ll move on, I guess. Sonic… I mean, he’s Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. We both know Miku, so we actually had shit to talk about when we met up for the first time. It’s still surreal to be friends with him, though. I should ask him when they’re bringing Monkey Ball back.”
Sophia: “Char?”
Wayne: “I dunno much about Gundam. That ‘I’ll kill you’ scene from Gundam Wing’s funny, but I don’t know what, like, a Zeon is. And the dude’s just an asshole so I doooooon’t really wanna ask him about it.
Long Furby’s kinda scary to look at, but she’s alright. She kinda reminds me of Holly, I think they’d get along. They’ve got the same powerful chaotic energy. 
Random’s… I mean, it sure says shit. It’s a big question mark, what else am I gonna say about it?”
Wayne shrugs. 
Wayne: “I’m pretty sure it started playing an ad for, like, gamer drugs at me once? The fuck’s up with that?”
Sophia: “It did?” Wayne: “It’s never done that to you?” Sophia: “Honestly, I had assumed it just pulled from the same pool of sounds no matter who was around. If it’s at all aware of who it’s ‘talking’ to...”
Wayne: “That’d mean it’s fucking ALIVE!”
Sophia: “Let’s hope not, then. Because if it is, then that makes its behaviour infinitely more irritating.
A-Anyway, do you have any thoughts on the contestants? It sounds like you’ve gotten to know some of them already.”
Wayne grins.
Wayne: “So, obviously went to go talk to the Spies first. The comic dudes liked Jazz, but the Spy didn’t really want to talk to me at first. But, I mean, I’m sort of a Valve rep, so eventually we wound up getting along. Won’t tell me when Half Life 3’s coming out, though.
That arcade cabinet fucking haaaaates me. I’ve told him I’m not even the actual streamer here, but he tells me I’m still made on a computer and that’s even worse. Says VR’s stealing his gimmick, says I’m promoting the things that killed his medium, says I should stop playing Neil’s music on stream… Dude, Wayne just plays it when someone donates for it. Also, isn’t he literally a Neil song?”
Sophia: “It’s complicated, I believe.”
Wayne: “I guess it has to fucking be.
Uhhh, don’t know Dorime too much, except one time everyone else in the cafeteria started making fun of us for being the only straight people.”
Sophia: “Wha-I’m sorry that happened, I should’ve interv-”
Wayne: “Nah, it’s fine. It was all jokes, aside from Cabinet Man I think. Pix had to punch him in the screen to get him to fuck off.
Oh, speaking of Pix, her and Bit are cool. When their game comes out, I’ll… do something to get Wayne to stream it. Not really sure what, but I’ll figure it out. Wish Jazz didn’t hate women so much, cuz they’ve both asked to pet him so much, and I don’t want them to get bitten.
Baba is a good boy. Another creature here I WISH I could show to Holly, oh my God. He’s softer than I was expecting. Like a pillow.”
Wayne is tearing up just thinking about Baba.
Sophia: “Baba is one of the nicest creatures I’ve ever encountered, to tell you the truth.”
Wayne: “Yeah, same.
Pony is… I mean. It’s a horse, right? Terrifying.” Sophia: “Terrifying?” Wayne: “Yeah! Horses are fucking scary, dude. And this guy’s all glitchy and stuff as well, so it’s even worse.”
Sophia: “I… see. Now, I think we should start wrapping this interview up, so, do you have any final statements to make to the audience?”
Wayne thinks for a moment, and opens his mouth to speak, but Jazz interrupts, peeping up a storm. The bird flies out of his shirt, landing on his head, and then takes off again. Both Wayne and Sophia shout in surprise, as Jazz turns and heads right for the tripod.
Wayne: “Jazz, no!-”
The bird knocks the camera from it’s stand, and the feed cuts out. 
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connorspiracy · 4 years
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Two Exorcists Walk Into A Bar || Connor & Jasmine
TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Artisan PARTIES: @connorspiracy & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Connor and Jasmine meet to discuss their respective ghost problems.  CONTENT: N/A 
While his YouTube channel indicated he knew what he was doing, Jasmine was still hesitant about involving someone so young in her ghost problems. This was something she should have been able to take care of herself. Larry Bob had been a sniveling crybaby in life and in death and she was Jasmine freakin’ Hale. She’d exorcised poltergeists much more intimidating than him and yet none of her efforts seemed to stick. So here she was, schmoozing a young man and hoping he’d agree to help her for not too steep of a price. She’d worn one of pant suits today, opting for a nice navy blue that she knew went well with her favorite shade of red lipstick. In a way, this was business and she wanted to make a good impression in hopes that Connor would help. She stood outside the restaurant, early as always, and waved when she saw Connor approaching. “Hey, Connor, right,” she greeted and looked him over, “Okay, okay. You weren’t lying about the posh roots. You’ll fit right in, baby face and all.” She said the last part with a bit of a laugh and gestured toward the door so they could grab their table. 
Connor wasn’t sure why they couldn’t just meet at Al’s and have a nice burger, but he supposed she wasn’t that kind of woman. He’d been raised among money. Not immense wealth or anything, but comfortable enough to live in a nice house in South West London with a big garden and three cars. Enough to not have to worry about what he was going to do for cash while he waited for his channel to grow. He’d had plenty of dinners at places like this before. It just wasn’t really his style any more. Nevertheless, he dressed for the occasion, wearing a pair of subtle plaid patterned slacks, brown leather shoes and a dark blue dress shirt. “Pleasure to meet you darling,” he said, his south London accent coming through. “Jasmine, yeah?” 
He couldn’t help but give a little laugh, almost embarrassed at her mention of his posh roots. “Yeah, but I try not to be a dick about it.” Connor wasn’t sure what to make of this reading, and he still couldn’t believe he was forcing himself to act normal while Nadia was stuck outside her body, but maybe if he helped Jasmine, she’d help him too. He followed her inside and was sure to tip the front of house staff member who led them to their table. Before long they were seated and being offered drinks. He went with a diet coke, not wanting to get pissed at a potential business meeting. “I get the impression you’ve been here a few times before?” 
Already, he was off to a good start impression wise as he tipped the host that led him to the table though Jasmine admittedly had her reservations about this whole thing at first. Those concerns had little to do with Connor himself and much more with what she could potentially be implicating himself in, but like her, he was an exorcist and the more he encountered with a little bit of back up the stronger he’d be when bigger trouble came rolling in. So really, she was being an A+ mentor or something. “That’s me,” she said with a bright smile as they made their way into the restaurant. As always, Evelyn didn’t disappoint when it came to setting her up with a more private table. “Not being a dick about things is always preferred. I definitely know some rich older men who could take a lesson or two from you on that one,” she said with a laugh as she asked the waiter for a bottle of whatever red Evelyn recommended. “Diet coke, okay. Well, bottle is required for the table, so feel free to help me, if not I can always bring it home. And, yes I have. I’m friends with the owner actually. She’s also from the UK.” Once their drinks were delivered and a nice cheese board was on the way, she looked to Connor, “So, how long have you been doing exorcisms?” 
Just because Connor would rather go somewhere he could wear jeans and sneakers, didn’t mean he didn’t know what he was doing. He could tell Jasmine was relieved he wasn’t going to embarrass her. “Well, I try to avoid most rich older men, unless I’m ghost hunting on their ancestral property,” Connor teased. He raised an impressed eyebrow as they brought over an expensive wine. “Maybe I’ll have a glass or two.” Admittedly, he wasn’t too much of a wine drinker, but it seemed rude not to have any. He allowed the waiter to fill his glass (which always struck him as a little bizarre, like he couldn’t fill his own glass) and took a sip. Once they were alone, Jasmine got right to the meat of the matter. “Oh, not that long. I was a medium for, well, all my life, really. But I first realised what it meant sort of five, six years ago? The exorcisms, only a few months.” Yeah, which was probably why he’d messed up with Nadia… He couldn’t let that affect him right now though. He had to be calm and confident. Connor nibbled on one of the complimentary snacks. “You?”
Jasmine laughed along easily with his comment about rich, older men. Unless they were buying a house from her, she had little interest in them though part of her business did rely on maintaining connections. “I wish I could, but hey, they buy expensive houses which puts money in my bank account,” she shrugged. There was a smile on her face as he agreed to share some of the wine with her. While there was a chance Evelyn would let her get away with not ordering a bottle, she didn’t feel it was necessary. She could always re-cork and take it home for later. “It’s really good, but don’t feel like you have to,” she said before she took a sip of hers. 
While how long he’d actually been doing exorcisms was worrying, she could work with that. She knew what she was doing, she just needed the extra energy to help get rid of Larry Bob since he’d gone full on poltergeist. Not even her focal point seemed to do the trick, but she was sure having another exorcist to help power the incantations would help make him gone for good. “Okay, makes sense, I didn’t learn about exorcisms until I was an adult. I was able to see ghosts when I was younger, too, but thought it was more of a weird White Crest thing than a me thing. My mom acknowledged the ghost thing, but honestly, she preferred the socialite life. My aunt taught me how to do exorcisms when I was 19, so I’ve been at it a while.” She took another sip of wine before grabbing some of the cheese. It was best to let him know what he was getting into if he was still new to this. “Normally, I can get by without help, but Larry Bob is a poltergeist who has a personal grudge for me. Executions are typically something that shouldn’t be done alone, which is why I’ve probably had trouble even with my focal point. Have you performed an execution before?” 
Connor tried not to be too judgemental about how much she sounded like his dad and his business associates when she talked about money in the bank account. He couldn’t be too funny about it since it was what enabled him to rent a nice little house out here, have a fancy SUV and not have to worry about whether he made any money from YouTube or not. “Oy, I know that face. I can’t help that I’m a newbie,” he teased as he drank his wine. Jasmine had said it was good, but he really had no idea what good wine was supposed to taste like, so he’d just have to trust her judgement. 
“Yeah,” he said, almost solemnly, in answer to her question. “It was my first exorcism. My Uncle. Went all polter and tried to kill my dad.” He chewed the inside of his lip. Maybe if he changed the subject quickly enough, she wouldn’t ask too many questions about his family drama. “Look, I’m happy, more than happy to help.” He couldn’t help but be nervous. What if she said no? “But I need some help from you too, okay? I don’t care about the money, but… see, I tried to do an exorcism recently, and something went really wrong.” He tried not to ramble, to be deliberate about his words, not act like a scared little kid. She needed to know he was capable and could hold his own, Nadia’s case not included. “The possessor and the possessee, they were sort of all tangled up, and when I did it… I took the spirit out of the body, but it was the wrong spirit. It was the original person… the one who’s supposed to be in the body. Do you see what I mean?” Okay, now he was rambling.
As he described his first exorcism, Jasmine felt her features soften. Having to perform an exorcism on a family member had to be incredibly difficult and he was still so young. She guessed the world wasn’t necessarily kind to mediums, but still. “I’m sorry,” she said softly as she set her wine glass back down on the table, “I’m sure that had to be rough, but it sounds like you persevered despite that, so clearly you’re pretty tough.” She added, “I’m not worried about you being a newbie-- I mean, I am, but more in the sense of I don’t want something bad to happen to you because of my problem. I was young and caught on quick, too, once upon a time.” 
There was a certain tension now and she waited somewhat patiently for what he had to say, only her nails lightly tapping on the table indicating she was eager to hear what he had to say. She frowned as he spoke and went through what could have gone wrong in her head. None of it made sense unless perhaps the host didn’t have a strong enough grip on her own body, but still, the exorcism was meant to banish the ghost doing the possessing. “Wow,” she said looking at him with wide eyes, “I’ve literally never heard of anything like that happening, but anything you need from me, I’ll do what I can to help. I’ll have to pull out some of my aunt’s old books and see if perhaps my more research inclined friends have anything useful.” As far as she knew, he could have either really butchered the incantation or there was something deeper going on with this host and the ghost possessing her. Neither were super promising, but hell, she’d help them the best she could. “Are you okay,” she asked, mostly because she knew just how hard exorcisms could be to perform, especially when they didn’t go as planned. 
Connor nodded stiffly, his jaw tight, not because of anything Jasmine had gone, but because remembering his Uncle was kind of hard. He'd taught Connor almost everything Connor knew about ghosts and the supernatural. Connor still had a great deal to learn, so many languages and so many rituals, but Uncle Joe had started it all. Before he'd gone so horribly wrong. "Thanks." 
He was afraid Jasmine wouldn't be quite so gentle about the rest of it. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd just made himself sound like a huge idiot, the kind who didn't know his focal point from his arsehole. "I don't know if I did something wrong or if it was... something else, you know? But I feel awful. Like I messed up that poor girl's life and let down my friends..." Great. Now he was turning this into a bloody counselling session. "Sorry. You don't need to know about my drama. I'm... well, not exactly 'fine', but I'm not hurt or anything. It's just the guilt, man. I'll be fine when I can fix it. When Nadia isn't floating around all disembodied and when some poltergeist isn't taking her skin for a possibly murderous joyride." 
The more he told her about the situation, the more dire it turned out to be. Jasmine was definitely not here for some polter-bitch taking an innocent person’s body on a murderous joyride. Even if there wasn’t murder involved, it was still wrong to hijack someone’s body. Still, it was a mystery to her how the exorcism had gone so terribly wrong. Either way, she knew she’d feel pretty awful if it was her and it was clear Connor did. She frowned and swirled the wine around in her glass. “There was likely something deeper going on there, but I guess a slight fudge in the incantations could throw things off, too. I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before though… not that I’m like the most well read person on the planet, but I’ve done my fair share of exorcisms.” She knew the weight that came with skill and it wasn’t always easy having the fate of others so heavily in your hands. On the other hand, it provided a purpose that not even money or acclaim could quite match.
 “Try not to be too hard on yourself. There’s an answer out there. Probably in like a centuries old book, but still out there.” That still left a murderous ghost with a real body to use for said murder. She really didn’t like this. “May need to find a way to keep murder bitch and the body contained for the timebeing though.” Finally, she took another sip on her wine. This conversation had gotten heavier than planned, but she felt some sort of pull toward looking out for him. She was supposed to be seeking his help and now she was worried about him. Sometimes she really missed high school. “Either way, I do trust you to help me. These things are always easier when you have two exorcists.” 
She wasn’t that much older than him. A few years, six, seven? But the level of experience and knowledge Jasmine had over Connor was something he couldn’t help but admire. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Jasmine felt like something he’d been missing. Someone to do this with. His dad had no interest in the supernatural and only begrudgingly put up with Connor’s interest in their family history. His mum was just now adjusting to the fact it was actually real. Any old family friends they’d had were reluctant to help the child of someone who’d ran away from their family and duty. But now, there was Jasmine. “Thank you,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I’ll help you too.” He picked up the menu. “So, what’s good here?” 
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displacedcreativity · 3 years
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When I was little, I used to love Barney, like most kids in the early 90′s. At one point, I even had a stuffed Barney that was very close to the design of the toy in the show. I knew mine would never come to life, but the extra detail made it feel so magical and for a variety of reasons, it was very sentimental and I loved it dearly. I often played alone so obviously toys and stuffed animals played a big part in my imaginary adventures and this stuffed Barney was no exception.  And then while at preschool. In between arriving and naptime. Someone stole it. And I never saw it again. I was devastated, to say the least.  My grandmother got me a new one, but it wasn’t the same. Literally and figuratively. The new one was wearing a shirt for some odd reason, and it’s mouth was sewn shut and overall it looked very odd. There was no charm, no magic. By second grade, I loathed Barney. Between losing the stuffed toy and having one of the lessons I had learned from the show backfire in a painful way, I wanted nothing more to do with it.  I carried that hate for years, and eventually it turned into a neutral feeling to hardly ever thinking about it. Obviously, I knew all the words to the mean version of the ending song from the show...the “I hate you, you hate me, let’s team up and kill Barney.”  I think that’s still a thing that people start singing when they hit a certain age.  I sang it so much I actually forgot the words to the actual song. Regardless, Barney! Not something I’ve really put much thought into lately. And lately, I’ve been burned out - prior to Covid, though Covid definitely didn’t help. And while burned out I was crushed in all the worst ways possible and if I were the Doctor I would’ve died and struggled to regenerate.  Whatever spark or light I had been holding onto prior to recent events is snuffed out, gone, and it would take an impossible miracle to get it back or at least a similar spark back. Like. That person is *gone* I might as well change my name and face at this point.  Needless to say, my dreams have been various flavors of awful, and while that’s not unusual they’ve definitely ramped up in the awfulness more recently.  Last night was no exception, but the ending took a bit of a turn. I was at a school, like a mix of schools I’ve been to or seen and weird stuff was going on and I’m not sure how old everyone was? Like we were all kids, teenagers and adults all at the same time cause you know. dream logic. But then for a moment, Barney was there. Which is a first, I think. I genuinely don’t remember any dreams with Barney in it before. But. He was there! But then he wasn’t. Turns out the only people who could see him were people who still believed in the power of the Imagination. (Very Hook).  And of course, I stood there in disbelief that I couldn’t see him because  I write and draw characters all the time and imagine things, I love imagining stories and dreaming and this was even MY dream why could I NOT see him? I was kind of insulted and spent the rest of the dream trying to prove to myself and everyone that there was nothing wrong with my imagination.  Except that there was, or, is. As I was saying, that sparks been pretty much gone. The skill to create hasn’t vanished, and when I have the energy I can still make the art and write. But that spark that makes me enjoy what I made or gets the creative juices flowing. That’s gone. It’s all ash, there’s no re-igniting that flame. When I realized that in the dream I was instantly upset because it meant that I’ve failed my inner child, if I even still had one, and myself and everyone there because it meant that I couldn’t see Barney even though I knew he was there. I even went on a rant about how growing up doesn’t equate losing your imagination, losing that spark, and adults aren’t crazy for wanting to play with their imagination as a way to have fun and relax.  But everyone nodded and agreed with me, I hadn’t made any sort of realization I didn’t already know or at least, deeply understand. Like, I was right but it wasn’t what my subconscious was trying to process and deal with. And someone, I don’t know who, asked me if I loved my imagination. As it’s something that has actually plagued me many, many times and well I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve pretty much got 0 self love.  I think I said yes, or that I wanted it back, I’m not entirely sure. But it was this general acceptance that one of my strengths has always been the ability to see the magic in the mundane and to share that magic with others by creating something, be it art or a story or whatever I think is the best medium for the magic. I often squish this down in an attempt to fit in or to not look weird, but.  It doesn’t stop at stories, because I was also thinking how in general I see the potential in things, in people, in stories.  And yeah, that magic can often backfire, and it can hurt, and it can make you feel completely, totally alone when no one else see’s what you do. But that’s what I needed to say. That I can see the magic in the mundane and the potential in every person. Even though I’m burnt out and the spark is gone and I have no real creative juices and no real self love and honestly every year I survive is honestly a surprise and I still can’t promise I’ll make it to 34 for a variety of reasons, (my physical health is rubbish and yadda yadda tomorrow is never guaranteed) but. That’s part of who I am. I see the magic. I see the potential for good, and the potential for bad. And there will be people who will never see what I do, and there will be people who will! And there will be people who don’t see it, but they will believe me - some may see what I do eventually, and there will be those that will never see it even if it’s slapping them in the face and they will take that out on me in negative, awful ways and it will hurt every time. But that’s okay. And it’s okay to be hurt, and it’s okay to lose that spark because the spark is just an energy source. When the batteries die for good you don’t recharge them you throw them out and get new ones! Hell, even dead batteries that are kept in for too long can still explode acid everywhere and eat away at the insides.  So yeah, my batteries are dead, and have exploded acid everywhere, and it will take a long time to pry them out, clean up and repair the damage and get fresh batteries. And it’s always possible that I’ll never make it that far.  But when I realized this, in the dream. Magic from the mundane and the batteries...Barney popped up again. Though more of a strange dream version of Barney this time, and actually to be completely honest I couldn’t see the face because it was taller than me so all I could really see was a colorful torso but REGARDLESS.  I hugged the dream dino and for the first time in YEARS. I remembered the actual lyrics to the ending song from the show. “I love you, you love me. We’re a happy family. With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you, won’t you say you love me too!” What a thing to forget.  And I realized, that that’s generally my response to when something I love ends up hurting me in someway shape or form. Ever since I was a small child that’s how I learned to react to a lot of my trauma. The logic of...”It can’t hurt me if I hate it.”  Like I’ve known for a while that I’ll avoid something if there’s too much negativity attached to it, and obviously there are lines that will always need to be drawn but. Love won’t always make  you feel good, and that’s okay. But replacing love with hate isn’t always what you should do, and hate with always make you feel like crap.  Anyways, I’m kind of losing my train of thought but ultimately. I woke up feeling... lighter, in a way. There’s still a lot of bad and I’m stull hurting and broken, etc etc etc but I woke up with no hatred for Barney or sour neutrality and generally my feelings for the show (I’m assuming it’s still on) is that I think it’s a great show that encourages kids to be imaginative and to be loving.  And my inability to remember the original lyrics of the song has been replaced with me genuinely struggling to remember the mean lyrics, and I don’t even feel bothered to look them up, because why? Why waste energy I don’t have hating something for unintentionally hurting me, especially when it was something I loved so much and helped me get through other dark, traumatic events that I was exposed to at a very young age? I mean, I’m not about to go out and start buying a whole bunch of Barney merchandise and start watching show, but I can allow myself to enjoy my memories of it from when I was a kid and also forgive myself for hating something just because I was a kid in pain who wanted to protect themselves when no one else would.  This sort of thing is more complicated when it comes to people, but, baring exceptions, it’s okay to love the good memories. It’s okay to still love a place, or a thing, or a food you enjoyed alongside a toxic ex, and it’s okay if you can’t do that.  It’s okay to never want them in your life ever again, and it’s okay to hope that things can heal and mend and the two of you can reconnect in a healthy manner and the second time around is positive and healthy.  It’s okay to grieve a death for as long as you need to, and it’s okay to move on and find love again.
But whenever possible, chose love. Because love will let you know when to change your batteries, hate will make you keep those dead batteries till they explode acid everywhere and corrode you from the inside out because you hate being alone, afraid, or whatever negative thing is eating away at you but I can garuntee it’s not love that’s making you keep the dead batteries, it’s the deep desire to avoid something negative you hate or are afraid of and that’s perfectly understandable and a reasonable response and everyone works at their own paces.  And if you think it will help, write a sticky note that says “change the batteries” or whatever and stick it somewhere you can look whenever you need a reminder. Start with small things! Or don’t! It’s completely up to you! Just whenever you can, remember to chose love, and look for the magic in the mundane and the potential in people. Love can take you everywhere, hate will get you nowhere. 
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ask-de-writer · 4 years
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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 19 of 83 : World of Sea
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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT
Part 19 of 83
by
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
140406 words
copyright 2020
written 2007
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.
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Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.
All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.
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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here
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Chapter 5: Strangers at the Gathering
The night before the Gathering was due to begin officially, two strange, large ships came up and hove to, about a half mile off from the anchorage.  They had arrived during the dark of the moons, and none had noted their coming.  With the dawn, none could miss the strangers.  
One was a monster by any definition.  All visible parts of the ship were jet-black.  It was pretty long, but several ships in the Naral fleet were longer.  What made it so big was that it had two three hundred foot hulls, with rakish shearwater bows.  The hulls were spanned from bows to sterns by a large flat expanse, perhaps two or three decks thick.  It was hard to tell at this distance.  There was a raised navigation bridge about forty feet back from the bows.  For masts it had three pairs of poles that were fastened together at the tops by spacious platforms and possibly a hundred feet tall.  They formed ‘A’ frames that spanned the ship from side to side.  There were no visible spars and the rigging, though present, seemed sparse.
Its companion was about two hundred and eighty feet long, also with twin hulls, but there, any similarity stopped.  Its hulls were unequal in size, the smaller one being fully eighty feet shorter.  Both hulls were narrow, almost knife like, and it had three masts, off the center-line of the craft, closer to the larger hull.  They seemed far too short.
Small boats were sailing in from the big ships.  They were twin hulled as well.
“Those ships are weird, and those little boats are weirder, too.  Never seen anything like ‘em,” said a sailor to anybody.  
Juris, the Longin’s Master Boat-builder, replied, “Catamarans they’re called.  They’ve been played with from time to time.  Fast aren’t they?  Never heard of making one as a ship, before, let alone two.”
By this time, the two boats were tying up at the floats.  Master Juris noted, without saying anything, that they were tied up with quick release knots.  Each crew formed a shield around one person from their boat.  
From the unequal hulled ship this person was a man of medium height, apparently the Captain.  He wore his black hair complexly braided. He had a loose shirt, tied at the waist by tails made for the purpose and snug trousers tucked into wide topped soft boots.  His crew wore variations on the theme.
From the larger ship, the individual was a woman whose red-brown hair was worn tied back in a fall.  She wore a loose shirt, similar to the other man’s but with a belt of large polished black overlapping scales, each decorated with an inlaid medallion of polished shell. Supported by the belt were a  flattish kit and a large but empty knife scabbard at her left hip and a long empty scabbard of strange design at her right.  Her loose pants bloused down and tucked into the tops of snug, calf high boots made of glittering green Lesser Sea Dragon hide.  A document case of tanned Strong Skin leather under her left arm, the lady simply reached up to one of the bollards the climbing net was secured to and pulled herself up to deck level with her right arm.  None of her crew seemed to notice her feat as they swarmed up the net.
The woman spoke to the gawkers in an accent full of lilting overtones, “Where do we find the ones in authority here?  We wish to present our credentials.”  Some of the people tore their eyes away from the visitor’s outlandish garb and pointed out the Council Pavilion.
Kurin, who was among the curious watchers, turned to Master Juris and said in surprise, “She must be as strong as Cat was.  Did you see how she just reached up to the raft rim and pulled herself up one handed until she could sit on the edge?”
“Yes,” he replied.  “She had that package of documents in her left hand. It was like she never even gave it a second thought.”
Roper said, “I noticed that all of the others used both hands to get up onto the raft.”  He paused and added untactfully, “I thought that Captains were supposed to be picked for brains.”
“Maybe she was,” Kurin shot back.  “Not everyone who’s strong is stupid.”
“You’re right,” replied Roper, abashed.  “Cat was strong and smart.”
Their men standing guard outside, the two Captains, for such they were, went inside the Council Pavilion.  Captain Sarfin of the Dorton, was seated at a writing table working on the agenda of the Council.  He was the leader of the Council again this Gathering.  He looked up and smiled.
“If you come in peace, then welcome to the Spring Gathering of the Naral fleet.”
Relief flooded the features of the two.  The woman spoke first again.  “I am Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon, Commander of the Winternight ship Dark Dragon, come from and representing the Corlis fleet.  We do seek permission to conduct some business, but mainly, we are seeking information.”  She handed her document package to Sarfin, who examined it with interest, and made notes in his ledger.  
“I Captain Huld Barsan Soaring Bird of the Barant fleet am,” said the man, speaking clearly but with odd construction.  “Also information seeking I am.  Opportunity to trade welcome is.”
Catpain Sarfin noted, “I see that your one set of documents is for both ships.  That is unusual.”
Sula smiled easily and said, “The Barant fleet is unusual, and the Honored Huld is even more so.  The Barant fleet does not set much store on written credentials.  The existence of a ship is license enough.  From the day that we met, we have been what the Barant fleet call ‘Dragon Bonded.’  Mutual obligations have made our lives inseparable, save by fate.  Because of our Dragon Bond, the Corlis fleet issued those credentials.”
“Very sensible,” laughed Sarfin.  “Sometime, when I am not so busy, I would like to hear your tale.  For now, I will have the Anchorage Master assign your ships to berths close by each other.  Permission to trade goes with that.  There is a fee of five hundred glue blocks or fifty Strong Skins, or an equal value in other trade goods.  Also, you must sign the Gathering’s Log Book.”  He proffered a book, opened to a page, and a feather pen.  Sula took the pen and examined it, then handed it back.
She produced a writing case from her sash-belt and took out a  fine tipped brush and a pen made of springy bone.  She inked  the brush first and wrote a neat vertical line of strange characters.  Then she dipped her pen into the case’s ink well and began writing, neatly, without any blot.
She filled in her ship’s, name, principal officers and nature of her business.  At the top of the next page, Huld applied two stamps from his writing kit, selected a brush and signed his ship’s name after one stamp and his own name after the other in unusual characters that Captain Sarfin recognized as written Barant.  He put back the brush and took a pen like Sula’s to fill out the rest of the information in Common.
“If there should be a problem in making payment,” said Sarfin, examining the entries with interest, “I am sure that I can get the Council to reduce or waive the fee.  After all, you have come half-way around the world to be here.”
Sula smiled, “I think that there will be no problem with payment.  The Dark Dragon is a dedicated Predator Hunter.  We take Wing Ray, Strong Skin, Moon Flats, Lesser Dragons and Hags.  We also take all of the usual fish.”
“I help may need.  Cargo luxury is, nor valued yet.”
“Honored One, I shall cover it for you, until the market values your goods,” said Sula pressing her hands together and making a small bow.
“That is settled, then,” said Sarfin.  “Now, what information is it that has brought you both so far?”
“We are trying to find the truth of rumors that there was a Great Sea Dragon — Some say Iren and some Mecat — that stayed with a ship of a fleet.  So far, all that we have found are rumors.  Truly, we are about to give up.  We have traveled half around Sea with nothing to show for the trip but some exotic trade goods.”
Grinning broadly, Sarfin said, “Oh, the Dragons are real enough.  I saw them myself.  However, your best information will come from the crew of the Longin, particularly, their Purser, Alor, their Captain Mord, and especially the young girl Kurin, who keeps a toy booth in the market portion of the rafts.”
Sula and Huld looked at each other in delight.  
“We have found them!”
“Here Dragon knowledge!” their voices crossed each other.
Huld added thoughtfully, “Meditate I must on this event when to the Soaring Bird return I.”
“Yes,” Sula added matter-of-factly. “Will you request that one of your Captains carry word to the Corlis fleet when you do?”  With a curious small bow to her, Huld replied, “Done it shall be.”
Returning her attention to Captain Sarfin, Sula asked, “Does your custom or law allow my crew to carry their personal sidearms?  We normally carry both a large combat knife and a small ax.”  She indicated her empty scabbards.  “I will guarantee that any of my crew who come the Gathering hooded will not be armed.  That will limit their response to any attempt at baring their faces to unarmed combat.”
Captain Sarfin regarded Sula carefully and said, “Why would they fight over something like that?”
As Captain Sula, showing the first trace of nervousness that Captain Sarfin had seen in her, replied, “Winternight regards such an assault as worse than rape.  If the hooded Winternighters are armed, the odds are good that they will kill the assailant before they have time to think.  To be honest, I am not fully comfortable without my hood and I adopted onto the Dark Dragon at the start of the first Boren Current War.”
Captain Sarfin thought carefully and replied, “It is legal for your people to be armed because such an issue has never come up before.  Let your crew know that our law and custom will require a non-lethal and preferably non-injurious response.”
Sula smiled again and bobbed her head.  “I can do that.  It is the same in our host, the Corlis fleet.”
The far away rattle of a tocsin drum and the exotic, never before heard in the Naral fleet, calls of a bugle or trumpet caused everyone on the rafts or on shipboard to drop what they were doing and watch. Eight large pulling boats came out from between the bows of each ship and picked up cables dropped from bollards at the prows.  The big strangers began to move slowly toward their berths on the north side of the anchorage.  The drum and horn fell silent except for occasional tiny course corrections.
A spectator on the raft, close to Master Juris said, “They’re so slow that I could have walked that distance, up and down the deck, by now.”
“I’m sure that you could have,” Master Juris smiled.  “But pulling two thousand tons might slow you down just a mite.  That’s some fine piloting that you’re seeing.  They aren’t letting the load get away from them.  The real test will come in just a bit, when they pull up to the anchorage floats.”
Kurin joined them.  “Sorry that I’m late, but I knew the ships had to be slow and I had some toy customers.”
“What did you sell?” asked the spectator idly.
“One of my loom kits and a rope winder,” said Kurin.
Master Juris turned from watching the ships at that last.  “You mean that those things that you made at the suggestion of the fleet’s Craft Council last Gathering are already selling?  They’re expensive.”
“They are,” she said, putting her head in her hands in mock frustration. “The Masters are coming to see if I’ve made what they asked me to, back last Gathering.  The way they look the toys over is driving me as crazy as a mating paddle duck.  They can’t seem to put anything back the way it was.  The only consolation is that they return with other people and get them to buy.”
Just then drum and horn sounded, and all else was put aside to see what the strangers would do next.  It was unorthodox.  The pulling boats, that could now be seen to have a dozen oars each, darted back, between the hulls of each of the two monsters, under the massive decks that bridged them.  You could see the lines draw tight as the boats applied all the power at their command to stop the ships.  They slowed gradually and stopped — — — exactly at the floats.  One boat came out from under each ship, and attached its cable to the float.  A second, light line was cast down from above and tied to the end of the cable.  Each boat disappeared back between the hulls of the mother ship and did not emerge.
“Neatly done,” said Master Juris, ruffling Kurin’s hair.  “These folk are good seamen, whatever else they may be.”
Kurin and Master Juris were not the only ones to watch the strangers come to moorage.
“Luve, Somet’ing’s bot’ering ye.  Ye keep lookin’ at t’ose twa new ships,” Tanlin said softly to Barad.  Two of the Grandalor’s deck-hands were following her attentively.
“Aye,” said Barad urgently, knowing that they would be overheard.  “You have been reading in my bookshelf to familiarize yourself with our way of writing.  Think.  What ships do they remind you of?  They always worked as a pair.”
Tanlin bit a knuckle lightly as she concentrated.  “ — But t’e Boren Current Wars were ‘alf t’e world away an Gat'erin’s agone! — Still, t’ose masts are unique.  T’ay ‘as t’ be t’e Dark Dragon an’ t’e Soaring Bird!  Yer books say t’at t’ey ‘ave sunk more t’an t’irty ships in t’ose wars.  W’at are t’ey doin’ ‘ere, Oi wonder?”
TO BE CONTINUED
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aion-rsa · 4 years
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How Dead by Daylight Gave Slasher Horror Icons The Game They Deserved
https://ift.tt/35lPcEi
If you grew up a gamer in the ‘80s and ‘90s, buying a bad licensed game was a rite of passage. Sure, even young gamers could detect a bomb like Home Improvement: Power Tool Pursuit! for the SNES from a mile away, but at a time before game reviews were easy to find online, it was natural to hope that the new X-Men game might just be good enough to take a chance on.
The situation was especially rough for horror movie fans. I owned the Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th adaptations for the NES and at least tried to finish them. It’s not that I thought they were good, but at a time when licensed horror games (not to mention major console horror games) were few and far between, the opportunity to face off against my favorite movie slasher was too enticing to ignore. 
The industry eventually learned to embrace horror in a meaningful way that resulted in some all-time great gaming experiences, but the slasher movie icons of the day remained tragically underutilized. While original horror series like Silent Hill and Resident Evil expanded the storytelling potential of the medium, Chucky was reduced to starring in a Temple Run knock-off. 
In the minds of many horror fans, the hope for a great game starring Micheal Myers, Freddy Krueger, or Leatherface lingered even as passable adaptations of those characters eluded us for decades. Where was the disconnect?
“I think it probably extends from the fact that they are two very, very different mediums and two very, very different ways of telling stories,” says Mathieu Coté, director of Behaviour Interactive’s hit slasher multiplayer game Dead by Daylight. “The reasons why slasher movies are so successful, and why they make you feel the way that they do, are extremely difficult to translate into gameplay mechanics. I think that probably that’s the root of it.”
The earliest examples of slasher movie games certainly support that theory. In 1983, adaptations of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween were released for the Atari 2600. They offered wildly different experiences (Texas Chainsaw Massacre saw you mow down victims for points while Halloween was all about evading Michael Myers), but each was so bad that you’d sooner be caught smoking weed while having sex at Camp Crystal Lake than playing either for more than a few minutes. 
Even as technology and game design advanced past what was possible on the Atari and NES, slasher icons were still being butchered in ways that would make these killers proud.
“It often felt as if [licenses] were either tacked onto an existing product that didn’t fit or it was just shovelware where the attitude is ‘make a thing and put the name on it,’” Coté says. “Oftentimes the people holding the licenses, and again it’s a matter of those two mediums being so different, but the people holding the licenses to the movies, they know about movies. They don’t know about games. That can make things difficult.”
With Dead by Daylight, Coté’s team sought to capture the essence of the slasher movie and translate that into fun gameplay that actually made sense for the genre. The asymmetrical multiplayer title sees one player assume the role of a killer tasked with eliminating four player-controlled survivors trying to escape the terrifying scenario. Since its release in 2016, Dead by Daylight has been embraced as the definitive horror multiplayer experience. 
Given how difficult it has historically been to make a slasher title, much less one featuring licensed characters, perhaps it should come as no surprise that Dead by Daylight’s origins can be traced to a much simpler concept that didn’t even start out as horror.
“There was a designer working in basically a silo somewhere making little prototypes, and one prototype that he made at some point was literally hide and seek,” Coté remembers. “It was one character that’s trying to accomplish a goal and there was another character that was very powerful. If he touched you, you’re dead.”
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An equally simple tweak would reveal the prototype’s incredible horror potential.
“We put cardboard in between [split screens] and went ‘Oh, my God. This is super fun,” Coté recalls. “The idea of creating a game in which you could play the fantasy of being the villain in a horror movie, that’s a longstanding one…if we put that with the fantasy of a villain in a horror movie, we have a winner.”
The idea of pairing the basic structure of hide and seek with a horror movie villain shows team’s vital understanding of what makes the slasher genre so entertaining in the first place. 
“A lot of effort is put into these [villains], so of course they’re more appealing,” says Dead by Daylight creative director Dave Richard. “I think that’s why we started rooting for them, and we have this enjoyment and guilty pleasure of rooting for the villain. I think that we all have this inside of us at different levels. We’re embracing this macabre thing.”
The team’s fascination with the macabre would slowly turn their experiment into a fully-fledged horror game. 
“The original prototypes showed survivors as literally beheaded silhouettes wearing different colored t-shirts with phrases like virgin, stoner, and jock,” Coté explains. “That’s something that Cabin in the Woods did very, very well, and the early prototype was based on those tropes.”
While Coté and Richard reference meta-horror movies like Cabin in the Woods and mockumentary Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon as early inspirations that helped them contextualize the genre’s key elements, they ultimately turned to foundational films such as Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre when crafting the game’s environments, characters, and other design elements. In those early days, though, few believed that Dead by Daylight would eventually host some of the stars of those films. 
“There were dreams and ambitions, but I don’t think there were thoughts,” Coté says. “We barely expected it to break even after a couple of months. When it started to really explode in the first month or so, we started looking for opportunities.”
The earliest of those opportunities happened to involve arguably the most important slasher of all-time: Michael Myers.
“We were lucky enough to get in contact with some very nice people who are the owners of the original version of Michael Meyers,” Coté explains. “Being able to get the rights to bring in that character and the original Laurie Strode into Dead by Daylight was kind of a big deal. It set the stage because it legitimized us in a certain way.”
For anyone who has followed the history of licensing rights and copyright law (not to mention the aforementioned history of slashers in games), the fact that the team was able to add Michael Myers as a playable killer must conjure an image of a developer clawing their way out of licensing hell with one hand while holding on to Myers with the other. Yet, it sounds like the process wasn’t all that complicated.
“I wouldn’t call it [licensing] hell,” Coté says. “Most of it is actually super interesting, and most of the licenses that we have…we’re dealing with people who get what we’re trying to do. The people who are, as I was saying earlier, more into movies than into video games, tend to trust us to do the right thing.”
Securing Michael Myers was one thing, but now that they had him, the team was faced with the same dilemma that had ruined even noble attempts at building games around these characters in the past.
“We first had to ask ‘What is the fantasy around that character and what is so interesting and unique about these characters?’” Richard recalls. “Of course, most of them have a weapon and they kill, but what’s their special sauce?”
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As Richard explains, Freddy Krueger has a “dream world” and a “fantasy that’s easier to get.” By comparison, Michael Myers is often portrayed as a guy with a mask and a knife. How do you translate that into a game in a way that makes him feel unique?
The answer to that question came in what Coté rightfully describes as a “stroke of genius.” 
“I remember that meeting where we were talking about Halloween and how to make [Michael Myers] unique,” Coté explains. “They pitched us the idea of a killer that would just watch you. We’re like, ‘What?’ They’re like, ‘Yeah, he’s just going to stand there and watch you,’ because that’s what Myers does in the movies. That’s what he does, but it’s an action game. People want to chase each other…We all thought, ‘Oh, you’re an idiot.’”
Yet, when Coté got the chance to actually play an early build of Dead By Daylight with Myers as the killer, he immediately understood what the team was aspiring to achieve.
“The very, very first version of the prototype I remember playing and repairing a generator and looking over my shoulder, and I see him standing on a hill and just watching me, and I go, ‘This is the creepiest thing I’ve ever experienced in this game,’” Coté says. “It’s super creepy, especially knowing it’s an actual other player right there. He could attack me right now, but he chooses to just watch me…that kind of thing made me realize the liberties we could take with the gameplay mechanics to really create something that would be unique and special.”
For the next few years, that’s exactly what the team did. They bent the rules of the game to incorporate other famous slashers. Freddy Krueger dragged Dead by Daylight players to dream world while Saw’s Amanda Young turned the game’s traps into a gambling proposition. Leatherface’s devastating attacks impacted a survivor’s ability to carry on and Ghost Face’s playfulness and humor distinguishes him from one of his major inspirations, Michael Myers himself. Through it all, the team’s goal was to stay true to the legacy of these characters and give them a proper home. 
“I love Mortal Kombat, but whenever a character gets imported to Mortal Kombat, they all turn into martial artists,” Coté says. “When you put Jason in Mortal Kombat, he becomes a martial artist and he hacks people, and then he does a finishing move and it’s awesome, but that’s it. When you take Michael Myers and put him in Dead by Daylight, he’s Michael Myers.”
Of course, Dead by Daylight’s roster of killers doesn’t just include an array of adaptations. At launch, the game boasted three original killers: The Trapper, The Wraith, and The Hillbilly. The Trapper was, by the team’s admission, based on Jason Vorhees and The Hillbilly certainly resembled Leatherface. It was in The Wraith, a desperate figure whose pursuit of a job saw him become an unwilling executioner, that the team found their first truly great original creation.
“For us, it was important that one of the killers was inspired by more of a cultural idea, and that was The Wraith,” Richard notes. “You don’t see The Wraith archetype in movies. It really comes from horror culture and cultural monsters more than movies.”
That desire to explore every corner of horror rather than just retread film successes is a big part of the reason why Dead by Daylight’s original killers are among its most popular. In fact, the team draws inspiration from such a wide array of sources that it’s possible some players may feel the impact of these original creations more intensely than others. 
“The Huntress is heavily inspired by Eastern European folklore and mythology,” Coté says. “For some of our players, especially Russian and Ukrainian players, they were immediately, completely freaked out because she’s humming a song that their mothers sang to them when they were a kid. It was really like it hit way too close for some of them, and it was great. It made them feel things, but for Japanese players or Brazilian players who had no cultural link to that, it was still an impressive and terrifying character because what scares people is visceral and universal”
While Dead by Daylight’s original killers stand tall against horror’s heavyweights, the game’s most impressive contribution to the slasher genre may just be its emphasis on the personalities and attributes of its survivors. Early builds of the premise portrayed survivors as Merrily We Roll Along rejects wearing self-identifying sweaters, but the game eventually began treating survivors with the same reverence as killers. 
“Survivors have been the learning experience, to say the least,” Richard confesses. “When we created the original characters, we wanted them to have real stories and personalities, but also to be relatable. I’m going to say a word I don’t like so much, but it’s almost like they’re shells that the players can identify with and easily become.”
Dead by Daylight’s emphasis on the unique qualities of its survivors helped it outlive (pun proudly intended) other asymmetrical multiplayer games, but even Behaviour Interactive found itself having to reckon with some of the stereotypes that plague even the best slasher movies. 
“The fact is that a lot of those [early character designs] are stereotypes that convey, let’s say, cultural tropes that don’t need to continue to exist in today’s society,” Coté admits. “For us, it was more interesting to create characters that feel like someone you could stand behind in a coffee shop and not blink because they’re regular people. They’re people you can relate to.”
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While Dead by Daylight’s roster of survivors features a few imports (such as Halloween’s Laurie Strode and Evil Dead’s Ash), the team reveals that “licensed survivors are much harder to find than killers,” largely because they still want the game’s survivor’s to feel overwhelmed by the stalkers. Coté specifically notes that it wouldn’t make sense for someone like John Wick or Arnold Schwarzenegger to be hanging helplessly from a hook. Yet, they also don’t feel like the legacy and value of a horror hero should be defined by their ability to play offense. 
“All of them are serial survivors,” Coté says of the game’s characters. “They continue to win, which is impressive, given the challenges they face.”
Besides, as millions of fans who have shouted at the screen at a horror film can attest to, the fates of Dead by Daylight’s survivors really come down to the players themselves.
“We always wanted to make it so that if you die in Dead by Daylight, it’s because you did something dumb or you panicked and didn’t stick to the plan,” Coté says. “Obviously the killers are extremely powerful, but most of the time [survivors lose] because someone panicked or was careless and got cocky and didn’t make good decisions.”
The ability to test your mettle against a slasher legend is one of Dead by Daylight’s more interesting examples of meta brilliance, but its most notable meta mechanic is the presence of The Entity, the invisible hand that pulls characters from different horror universes into the game. It’s a subtle, yet vital, story component inspired by another horror legend. 
“The main inspiration for The Entity was actually The Dark Tower,” Richard recalls. “Many of us on the team are fans of the work of Stephen King, and when we deep dove into The Dark Tower, it was a favorite. The way every book in the Stephen King universe links together and is tied up with The Dark Tower was the inception of the idea of The Entity.”
The Entity is the core component of the game’s surprisingly strong lore, which not only offers compelling backstories for nearly every survivor, setting, and killer but even adds a few new chapters for licensed universes like the Scream series. 
In many other multiplayer games, that lore would be little more than an easter egg debated over on Wiki pages and fan forums. But in Dead by Daylight, the commitment to meaningful storytelling is a core component of the ambition which defines Behaviour Interactive’s mission. 
“Every time we create more of our lore, we solidify what Dead by Daylight is and the universe around it,” Coté explains. “It’s not just to be able to bring in anything, but to be able to create a universe into which all of these things can exist and make sense.”
While the team’s commitment to lore may help bolster their pitches to rights holders, their commitment to ensuring that Dead by Daylight’s growth adheres to an internal logic also speaks to the team’s confidence that they can give nearly any slasher a home. 
“I’d say that a few [killers] still elude our grasp, and it’s mostly due to the fact that someone thinks they can make a standalone game for them, or they are working on one,” Coté says. “Anybody who’s got a little bit of experience in video games can tell you that recreating the magic of Dead by Daylight and that sort of balanced chaos is a terrifying prospect. It’s certainly not a simple thing to recreate.”
There’s a sincerity to that statement which encapsulates so many of the reasons why Dead by Daylight was not only able to secure slashers and survivors who could easily star in their own games but do justice to them within the framework of an experience that wasn’t designed to accommodate those legends in the first place.
After all, if the bad old days of slasher games and adaptations were defined by limitations and indifference, then Dead by Daylight succeeds because it takes nothing for granted. Its team carefully crafted a scenario that invoked the pure pleasure of the slasher genre and then spent years studying the ins and outs of these characters and worlds in order to better understand what makes them work beyond the superficial pleasure of their mere presence. It’s an involved process that doesn’t work for everyone.
“We’ve had a couple of cases of people on the development team that, maybe after a year or something, they go, ‘You know what? I think I’ve had enough.’” Coté admits. “Especially 3D artists who keep looking at references of grizzly things all the time, and most of them, they’re just having a blast…but I’m thinking of one or two examples of people who were like ‘You know what? I need to go and work on something with unicorns and kittens.’ That’s fair. That’s absolutely fair.”
The amount of work that goes into a game like Dead by Daylight may ultimately scare off other developers who would dare give legendary slashers their own games, but as long as we have Dead by Daylight, at least a few horror icons will always have a home. 
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“It used to be that we were hoping that people who hold the licenses to these legends would allow us to bring them into our world,” Coté says. “Nowadays, the conversations oftentimes revolve around asking them if they’re big enough to make it into the hall of fame that is Dead by Daylight…It’s the place for horror to come by and live.”
The post How Dead by Daylight Gave Slasher Horror Icons The Game They Deserved appeared first on Den of Geek.
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I was tagged by @rzrcrst to share five things about me so we all can get to know each other better. Thanks sweets! :D
I was raised in a tiny house with six other people and a bigger side of medium sized dog, I thrive on noise and chaos lol. I am loud, opinionated, have a lax standard when it comes to boundaries, and don’t take personal offense easily. (Do I get Angry? Yes. I have a Temper that I really should see someone about lol, but I don’t take personal offense if someone gets mad and calls me an idiot or steals the last of the pop tarts.) That being said, I am well and truly satisfied being by myself, making my own noise however and whenever I see fit- I think it’s the novelty personally, it probably won’t ever wear off lol. That’s not to say I don’t miss those chaos days. Getting back together with all of my siblings is my favorite thing to do. No one can quite match me screaming opinion for screaming opinion as they can lol. In the line of my friends my siblings will always come first, they’re built in bffs that you never have to worry about pretending with.
I’m sure that at some point very early on in my life I must have made a conscious decision that my big brother was The Authority on Everything That Is Cool and Awesome, but it must have been VERY early because I don’t remember it. All I know is that the standard by which I have always measured if something is Cool and if I should Like it/Do it has been if Kevin has either done it before or also thinks it’s cool lol. Kevin did karate, so Meghan did karate. Kevin wore flannel shirts over tee shirts? Meghan STILL does that lol. He got sick of the more age appropriate boy bands I was listening to in jr. high so he burned me CDs with bands like Blue October and The Tea Party and Rammstein and Korn et al on them and said they were cool. And So It Was lol. And that hasn’t changed- to this day I’m still not really sure if I actually like all the things I like or if I just accept that I do bc he does lol. Honestly it hasn’t been all bad, in fact it has some pretty great advantages. I’ve never been in a Terrible relationship in my life; the second Kevin doesn’t like someone they’re gone- it’s been pretty damn useful having a guy look out for all the shitty things that guys do and point them out so I can head that mess off at the pass lol.
I think I was probably 12 when I wrote my first fanfiction? It was this LONG ASS multi chapter behemoth that was written in I think four of those black and white notebooks? The marble ones? You know what I’m talking about? It was about the characters from the movie Gladiator lololol. It didn’t go on the internet (fandom online was in its INFANCY back then and I wasn’t a part of it until years later) and no one besides me read it. Like NO ONE. I’m honestly not sure if anyone besides me actually knew that I wrote this lol. I kept it hidden in different places all over my house, my back yard (zipped in those gallon freezer bags lol), and a few times my grandparents basement lol. Every week like clockwork I would move it’s hiding spot- I don’t know why I felt the need to do this but whatever lol. Unfortunately (maybe fortunately) the first time I smoked pot in high school I came home so fucking paranoid that I took it out of its spot in the shed in the back yard and burned it. Just set it on fire lol. I was convinced someone knew where it was and was going to read it so clearly the only thing to do was destroy it before my secret could get out. That was also the time I realized that pot makes me too paranoid to function and I should not be allowed near lighters when I was high lol. Thankfully for all you I have become much more lax about letting people read my writing since those early days.
When I first saw Pirates of the Caribbean I, of course like any decent human being, fell in love with Jack Sparrow. Who wouldn’t. But for some reason I could not put my finger on every time I thought of or looked at or had to talk about Elizabeth Swann and Kiera Knightly I got so MAD. Like unexplainably FURIOUS. I HATED her and I really didn’t have any good reason to. About a year later my brother introduced me to the original Lara Croft movie (the Angelina Jolie one) and I watched it constantly- I LOVED it. And then came the Kate Beckinsale Underworld movies which I couldn’t get enough of. It was okay to say that those two women were hot cause Kevin said so too right? And I just kind of branched out from there? I didn’t deliberately identify as bi, I just kind of started taking it for granted that I looked at women and thought they were gorgeous the same way that I did men. My mental block about Kiera Knightly finally lifted sometime in college and I can now finally admit that the first girl I ever had a crush on was Lizzie Swan in POTC lol. (Not that I will EVER tell my mother or the adult members of my very Catholic, very conservative Republican extended family that I have, in fact, kissed girls and liked it lol. There are some things that even I am not stupid enough to do lol.)
I fucking LOVE science fiction. The camp-iest, the cheese-iest the better. I love space travel/adventure sci-fi the best, I’m sorry I don’t care what ANYONE says, Flash Gordon is a cinematic masterpiece and I will fight anyone who says differently. I love Firefly and Star Trek and oh my god the Riddick movies are so fucking great. And when you can combine my love of sci fi with my pure and unadulterated THING for cowboys (I don’t know where that came from by the way I just. I have a cowboy kink that cannot be stopped. I need professional help lol) you have right there a double threat of Meghan is gonna love this. (I unironically STAN Cowboys and Aliens ok. And Pacific Rim.) I’ll read sci-fi, I’ll watch it, I’ll listen to it, you put it in front of me and I will consume it.
I’m tagging @spacegayofficial @youmeanmybrain @pajamasecrets @pascalispretty @stevieharrrr @keeper0fthestars @zeldasayer @hystericalmedicine and frankly anybody who sees this and wants to share. Tell me about your interesting selves!! :p
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bendy-dreamland · 5 years
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(Warning: chapter contains mild gore, death, and blood, mentions of medical procedures)
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“Boris! No, no! What have they done to ya?!”
Henry pulled Bendy away, keeping him from looking at the dead Toon. “Bendy, we need you to get out of here. Mugman, think you can take him back to Candy Corners?”
“NO!” Bendy screamed. “No, no, no! I’m not leavin’ dis spot! Dat’s mah buddy up in dat dang tree! I wanna know why he’s up there!”
“Hey, calm down, calm down!” Cuphead grabbed at the demon, turning him around to face him. “Look at me, brat! If yer gonna freak out, you’re gonna call da wrong sorta attention here! We need to block off da area and get da police in on dis. We’ve got a straight up murder on our hands, and it might be part of our investigation.”
Bendy looked at Cuphead before his face scrunched up as big, black tears came to his eyes. “B-But… Boris is…” He was cut off when the red-themed cup pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing his back. The demon started to cry, wrapping his arm around Cuphead.
Mugman gulped, looking up at Boris before looking at Henry as he approached him. “S-Should we get someone to call the police? I can go back to the shop…”
“Give me the camera I gave you earlier, I’m gonna take a few pictures. Go call for the police, please.” Henry replied, holding out his hand. Mugman didn’t say anything as he took the camera from his person, giving it to the detective before running back to the shop.
He got inside and went up to the counter. “Mike, I need to use the phone, gotta call the cops. We’ve got a possible murder on our hands.” He whispered, not wanting to cause a panic in the soda shop. Mike didn’t say anything as he let Mugman go behind the counter to use the phone.
As the mug was doing this, Henry was taking pictures of Boris’ body. It wasn’t easy, the sight was making his stomach curl, and Bendy’s crying wasn’t helping that unsettling feeling.
In his short time as a P.I., Henry has learned that death was a rare, but possible, event for cartoon characters. He’s learned that death comes in a variety of ways, some worse than others. Cartoon characters can be killed with acetone or Dip, something like acetone except ten times worse, and it’s not a pretty or pleasant death for anyone. Even humans have trouble when it comes to Dip, it burns something terrible.
Another way to die is from a weapon infused or soaked in either of these liquids, but it can’t be a Toon weapon, it has to be a human one.
Then there’s the simple death of a character due to script writing, and sometimes it’s for the best.
The saddest death is when a Creator gives up on a character and just kills them by ignoring them and cutting them off, leaving them to suffer. They cannot survive this way, they can’t continue to be a character, they’re not even allowed to stay alive in Toon World.
One of the worst cases is when Walt Disney and Universal Studios gave up on Julius the Cat, from the Alice shorts. The poor character suffered so much hate from people accusing him of being a rip-off of Felix the Cat that Disney let him be forgotten.
But that wasn’t his fault, he was an Original Idea that happened to be a black cat who was an imp, personality wise.
Original Ideas are the very essence of a Toon, they exist but they have no true form, no way to come to life, until they can make contact with the mind of a Creator. This is how cartoons come into being, this is how they can access the Over World.
When a Creator gets an Original Idea in their head, they draw the character on paper, then animate them. This gives them the kick in the pants they need for something called Life Ink to get them to come to life, to come over to the real world to live as a living drawing, a Toon.
Toons live in Toon World, that’s their home, but they can’t come into being until a Creator gives them life. It’s always been this way, even with comic characters. They exist in Toon World once they are brought to life through the medium they exist in.
Henry has had many Original Ideas he’s brought to life, just like Boris up here. It hurts to see his creation mangled like this, and maybe it’s the shock of it all, but Henry was keeping himself level headed about all this. He had to, he found his friend murdered and he knew that he had to be the one to find out why. Boris was an Original Idea he gave life to, and it hurts to see that someone snuffed that life out.
That made him worry, was something going to happen to Alice, the Butcher Gang? Did something already happen to them… and Bendy? Oh no, what about Bendy?
Bendy was, for the most part, a difficult Toon to bring to life. He was an Original Idea, but nothing Henry did could give him Life Ink. Until Joey took things into his own hands and told Henry that he’d help bring Bendy into this world. The next morning, he found Bendy sleeping at his desk, completely alive. Henry had asked how Joey did it, and all his friend had said was,
‘You just had to believe hard enough, Henry. Belief can make dreams come true, it can make magic happen.’
Lowering the camera, Henry looked over at Bendy, seeing him sitting a distance away, his back turned to face the body. Cuphead was quietly talking to him, patting his back. Henry could still hear crying from his demonic creation. He didn’t blame Bendy, he was reacting how anyone else would after finding the corpse of their best buddy in a tree.
There were loud siren sounds and Henry looked over to see police cars and the police force making their way over. He wasn’t too keen on the cops themselves, especially the ones here in Palomino City, but he was going to need their help.
He watched as a poodle in a chief’s uniform approach. He looked at Henry and cleared his throat, his voice heavy with a French accent as he spoke. “I am Chief Louis Baton, we were called here because of, eh, murder? Yes?”
Henry nodded. “I’m private detective Henry Ross, and the murder victim is my creation, Boris the Wolf.”
Chief Baton looked at him confusion. “You are a Creator?” He asked, sounding suspicious.
Reaching into his pocket, Henry pulled out his wallet and pulled out an ID card. It showed an image of himself from years ago, and had information about himself and his position at Joey Drew Studios. Chief Baton looked it over before giving a nod. “I have heard of you, Mr. Ross, just needed to make sure. Have had humans pretending to be… well… Creators, yes? Trying to sneak into places. Where is the body?”
Pointing up, Henry gestured to the tree and Chief Baton’s face paled, which was funny to see since he was a white poodle. “Mon dieu…!” He squeaked out as a bit of Boris’ entrails slipped out and dropped down, hanging about three feet down.
Henry felt like throwing up as he looked away. “I-I… let me get the clean up crew…” the police officer stammered out as he turned away. The animator looked down at the ground before walking over to Bendy and Cuphead.
“How’s he doin’?” Henry asked as he sat down next to Bendy, only to have the devil latch tightly to him, crying once more.
“Bad.” Cuphead sighed loudly. “What do ya think’s gonna happen, Ross?”
“He’ll be taken to the morgue where the coroner will look him over.” Henry frowned softly. “I know the coroner, he’s a friend, I’ll be able to get information about what happened from him easily.”
Bendy sniffed loudly before pulling away, his face was stained with inky tears. “Please… please figure out what happened… my best buddy’s dead, I can’t…”
Henry pulled him close and hugged him, sighing softly. “I know, I know, it hurts a lot. I wish I hadn’t seen it either. But I promise that I’ll figure out what happened, and I’ll take down whoever dared to kill Boris.”
Golden eyes looked up at him and Henry watched as a small smile came to Bendy’s lips. “I-I’ll hold ya do dat, ol’ man.”
--
Henry had spoken to several police officers about what he knew of Boris’ body, and he was able to interview both the ram and his wife about what happened. Apparently, they had taken a stroll through the park and the sheep had wanted to sit under the tree for a little break, only for her to find the blood and ink.
Now, that had Henry curious.
Blood and ink do flow in Toon veins, but the problem with the situation is that the blood was too dark, too deep a shade of red to be cartoon blood. Most characters bled a very bright, very loud shade of red, though some bled different colors, and some bled straight up black if they were a monochrome character.
In this case, that was where Boris fell. He was black and white in color, so his blood should be black. But this? Boris had blood that was the same color as that of a human’s, that’s… that’s not right. Did Joey make changes to Boris that were internal rather than external in design? Toons do get upgrades and design changes to match with the times, explains why Bendy wore a colored outfit, but Boris?
Boris was different, he looked just as he had years ago, and was even in his signature overalls. Last Henry had heard, Boris wore a shirt now and had a change in pants as well. He was even sporting a tail, a design choice that Henry fully approved of.
Did Boris change back to his old look before his death?
Henry sighed and rubbed at his eyes before getting up, grabbing a cup of coffee from the offered pot and cups across the room. He, Cuphead, Mugman, and Bendy were sitting in the waiting room at the coroner’s office, waiting to hear anything from the doctor in the other room.
Sitting at a desk in the room was a white cat with a long, fluffy tail and big, gold eyes. She had a cute smile on her face as she typed away at her type writer to the beat of the song that played on the radio. She was the secretary and wife of the doctor, Tabby. She was a sweetheart and liked to call Henry cutie whenever he came in. He let her do it because she was too nice to be angry with.
He poured himself a cup of coffee before looking over at the boys. Bendy had finally passed out from the emotional stress and was currently sleeping against Mugman, who was also napping quietly. Cuphead was the only one awake, flipping through a comic book he had pulled from his hammerspace.
“Want some coffee?” He asked the cup, who looked up and nodded. Walking back over, he handed Cuphead his drink, who happily poured it into his head, enjoying the boost of caffeine.
“Thanks, Henry.” Cuphead said as he closed the comic. “Maybe I should take ‘em home, Bendy’s had a rough time.”
“Yeah, maybe y-” The door behind the secretary desk opened and a black cat dressed in scrubs came out. He had a bored expression on his face as he looked over at the group. “Oh, hello, Dr. Fish.” Henry greeted, before hearing a loud snort from Cuphead. The cat was named Doctor Claudius Fish, and yes, his name was a set of puns. Happens a lot to cartoon characters.
Dr. Fish rolled his eyes, sighing loudly through his nose. “I didn’t choose my name, boy, don’t make fun. Henry, can you come with me, I need to show you something.”
“Right.” Henry set his cup down and looked over at Cuphead. “You gonna come with?”
“I… suppose, yeah. Miss, do ya mind watchin’ my baby bro and friend?” He asked, looking at Tabby, who happily nodded. He followed the doctor and detective through the door and into another part of the building. They entered an examination room and Cuphead made a face as he looked at the body on the table.
Boris was cut open and some of his organs rested on trays, even his head seemed to be cut open. But Cuphead was shocked to notice something with the body and the organs. “Oh, sugar honey iced tea… those aren’t right.”
“I take it that you figured out the problem here, yes?” Dr. Fish asked, looking at the cup headed Toon.
“Yeah, uh, I ain’t da smartest guy here in town, but I know what cartoon organs are suppose to look like, and these ain’t right.”
“What do you mean?” Henry asked as he approached, before realizing what they were getting at. “These are human…”
“Yes, and they seem to belong to Boris, as they were physically attached to him naturally.” The mortician replied, adjusting his glasses on his nose. Henry and Cuphead looked at him with equal surprise and he continued. “I have never seen anything like this before in all my years of working with Toons and humans. Toon organs may look like human ones, but there are obvious differences. For one, the heart is meant to look like one you see when a character is in love.”
“I’m guessin’ Boris’ doesn’t look anythin’ like that?” Henry asked as Dr. Fish held up a tray. He cringed, staring at the heart that was clearly human, except it was yellow in colored, stained in ink. What made it worse was that there was a giant bite mark in it. “What the hell…?”
Setting down the dish, Dr. Fish reached for his notes. “From what I was able to gather, it seems that this wolf has a human chest cavity, and bleeds human blood but toon blood as well, that’s not ink. Though he does have ink in his chest, but I doubt it’s his.”
“What’s… the cause of death?”
“Looks like he was attacked by a beast of sorts. He was clearly torn open by teeth, and most of his organs have bites and tears. It seems a monster had gotten to him, if you want to believe that. I think it was a wild animal Toon, one that has simple intelligence, like a wolf or lion from the Over World.”
He pointed towards the chest, at what looked like long marks in the black fur. “Seems that claws were used, or at least one set. I can’t find much in terms of evidence that two sets were used, just one that appears to be from the right front paw. That, or a hand from a Toon with very, very dark tendencies.”
“Gross.” Cuphead grimaced. “Hopefully it ain’t dat, don’t wanna be dealin’ with a crazed murderer. But if dat’s da option dat’s right… why would a Creator make such a character?”
“Because some people have dark minds that attract such Original Ideas.” Dr. Fish scoffed. “It’s why we have bad guys in Toon World, adds drama to a world full of sugar and smiles. I don’t mind the drama, gives me work.”
“Dat’s a dark outlook on da situation, Dr. Fish.”
“I deal with death and gore, boy, I am desensitized to much of what I see in this office, and I don’t mind it compared to the blinding world of cartoons outside of my office. If I want sunshine and rainbows, I’ll spend time with Tabby, at least I enjoy it from her.”
“Boy, you must be fun at parties.”
Henry sighed and slapped his forehead. “Anythin’ else you can tell us about this, doctor?”
Dr. Fish nodded and moved to another part of the room, grabbing a tray before returning to the table. On the tray was a large wrench, but there was something so wrong about it. It was solid, physical, but it appeared to be stuck as a sketch in appearance. It had all the tell-tale signs of a sketched-out design, like the marks of trying to make straight lines, the areas where things didn’t look even. And it was covered in dry ink and blood.
“This was found in his chest, behind his lungs.” The cat stated. “I’m not sure why it was there, but I suspect that it has a big thing to do with what happened to him. I am still going for his death being caused by an animal, but it is possible that this was used in the process. I’ll keep looking over anything else that seems suspicious.”
Henry nodded, looking from the wrench to Boris, seeing the familiar face, but the unsettling unfamiliarity of the X’d out eyes. There was a soft cough, catching the detective’s attention as he looked back to the doctor, who was giving him a look that meant that he understood how he was feeling.
“I’ll let you know more soon, Henry. I’m still needing to examine things and run tests, give me a day or two. Go home and rest, you look exhausted.”
He did feel exhausted, this is a lot to take in. “I know, I mean… this is my friend, my creation, layin’ on this table, right in front of me.”
Green eyes stared at him before Dr. Fish removed his glasses, cleaning them off a bit. “I understand, it is a hard thing to take in, people sometimes forget that Toons can die as well. We’re not meant to last forever, we all have to go at some point, even if it seems to happen before our time. Go home, you two, get some rest, continue work in the morning.”
--
Stepping out back into the office, Henry was surprised to find Linda waiting there with a now-awake Mugman and Bendy. She smiled sadly and got up, approaching him. “How are you doing, Henry?”
“Terrible, but I’m tryin’.” He tried to smile back at her and she gently patted his arm.
“Come on, let’s go to my place. I’ll make you boys a nice, hot meal and you can relax a bit. I’m sure you all need it after what happened tonight. If you want, you can spend the night!”
“Oh, I don’t wanna be a bother…”
She shook her head. “No, no! It’s alright, I’m offering! Besides, it’s getting late and traveling through the portals at night isn’t always the best. Also, when’s the last time I made you a good dinner, Henry?”
He wanted to say no, he wanted to reject the offer, but how could Henry say no to Linda? He chuckled as he shrugged. “Alright, alright, we’ll come over, is that alright with you boys?”
“Hell yeah!” Cuphead grinned, giving a thumbs up. “I’m up for a free meal!” He ignored his brother, who told him to stop being rude. Bendy looked over and smiled, he looked so tired and worried as he got up, walking over to Henry.
“Thanks fer da offer, Ms. Linda, real nice of ya to do fer us.” He told her, and she nodded, frowning softly.
“It’s the least I can do, it’s a terrible thing to have happen, losing a dear friend like that. Come, let’s head to my place.”
After saying good bye to Tabby, the small group walked out into the dark streets. People were out and about, many coming home from work, others going out for a good time. They could quietly hear people gossiping about a murder in the park, that’s the problem with cities like this, word travels fast.
Bendy bit his lip, trying to ignore the talking of strangers, instead trying to focus on the quiet chatter of his friends. He glanced around as he quietly walked before something caught his eye, a flash of black and blue. He stopped, looking about, what was that? Had he seen who he thought he had seen?
“Ben?”
Blinking, Bendy turned to see Cuphead looking at him with concern. “You okay there, short stuff?”
“Yeah, I thought I saw… hey! Don’t call me short!” He huffed and quickly moved to catch up to the laughing cup, his mind no longer on what he had thought he had seen.
As they walked on down the street, someone peeked around the corner of a building, watching from under a hood. Black, pie-cut eyes looked on in worry before looking about, making sure that there was no one watching from above.
With a loud gulp, the figure ran off. This was bad, he just knew it, he could feel it in his feet that something terrible was starting.
First Joey disappears, now there’s a mutilated body, and he knew there would be more very soon…
END OF ACT ONE SCENE FIVE
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purplesurveys · 4 years
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631
General Randomness What's the weather like right now? It’s very bright and sunny out, but January is typically one of the colder days of the year so I’m not feeling uncomfortable right now. It’s the perfectly chilly temperature I would have liked to have all year long. What are you currently sitting on? I am sitting on a chair at our dining table, which is usually where I take surveys. How many times have you brushed your teeth today? Just once.
When did you get up? I’ve been up since 8, but didn’t get out of bed until 10.
Have you been in a vehicle for more than 45 minutes today? I haven’t been in a car at all today cos I’ve only stayed home. Angela invited me to go out for some drinks but I didn’t feel like drinking or being out today, so I’ve been home the whole time.
Where is your best friend? I think Angela is at home but I’m sure she’s getting ready to go out for the aforementioned ^ drinking. I’m not sure where Gab is. How many days until Christmas? Oh wow, barely missed it, chief. There are 355ish days left, I’m guessing? Have you kissed someone today? Nope. Is your mom over 50? No, and she still has a year to go. How old were you 7 years ago? I was technically 14, but was about to turn 15 in a few months. Do you know what 'C'est la vie' means? Yep. In Gen Z lingo, it essentially means, ‘it be like that sometimes’ lmao. Do you usually take showers or baths? Showers, because we don’t have bathtubs and also because I find it much more efficient anyway. I only take baths when I’m out of town, in a fancy hotel, and want to pamper myself with bubbles and fancy body wash. What kind of bottoms are you wearing right now? I’m wearing shorts just meant for the home.
Are you wearing anything red? Yes, the pair of shorts I just talked about. What was the name of your first pet? I didn’t keep track of my first goldfish’s name but a good guess would be Goldie. I wasn’t a very creative kid, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that turned out to be right. Do you live in an apartment? Nope. I’ve been living with my parents under their roof. What color is the floor in the room you're in? Cream-ish. What was the most irritating thing to happen to you today? My thesis professor being a headache to talk to. I am genuinely baffled at how she was able to secure a very high position in my university’s administration, considering how erratic she can get. How do you feel about your most recent ex? She’s great. Do you wish at 11:11? No. Do you wish on shooting stars? I would, if they often visited on this side of the world. But they don’t, so. Do you wish on dandelions? No. There aren’t a lot where I live. Are you drinking anything right now? Mmm no, not at the moment. I finished my coffee a little while ago and while I want to make a second cup to keep myself awake, I have an early morning tomorrow so I’d want to sleep early tonight. It’s back to work for me, ugh. About how tall is your father? Not too tall. He’s like, 5′5 or 5′6.  How old is your oldest living grandparent? I only know the age of one grandparent, and that’s my 73 year old maternal grandmother. I don’t get to see my paternal grandparents a lot cos they live quite far, so with that comes my insufficient knowledge about them.  Do you know anyone who has lived to be 100+? Gab’s great-grandmother, but she passed away last November. Have you had your birthday yet this year? Nope. There’s been a mere three days into the year, so very few people would already have had their birthdays hahaha. Do you read your horoscope on a regular basis? No. You do you, but I was never a fan. It’s also a pet peeve when people use their star sign as excuses for their shitty behavior. “Sorry I acted up, I’m a Scorpio,” “I hate everybody because I’m an Aquarius,” “I ghosted them because I’m a Cancer” no it’s because you’re a bitch, Karen. Do you like the color yellow? I hate it a bit less than green (my least favorite color) only because I love the song Yellow by Coldplay and because mustard yellow isn’t that bad of a color. Are you an aunt or uncle? If my friends start having kids soon, then I’ll be an aunt. Why is your best friend your best friend? They both understand my weirdness and all my quirks and never made me feel like I was being judged. What is your hair like at the moment? Tbh it matches my top pretty well so as frizzy as my hair is at the moment, it still looks good with the tank top I have on lolol. How many times have you donated blood this year? Zero. I’m scared of needles, and even if I get over that phobia I wouldn’t be able to donate anyway because I’m underweight. Are you wearing any jewelry? No, not right now. Are you a video-gamer? I wouldn’t call myself that. I play GTA just to be a law-abiding citizen and not actually do the missions lol, I get tired of playing The Sims after ten minutes, and I only play a handful of Nintendo games. Who got married at the last wedding you went to? My mom’s brother and his then-fiancee, now one of my favorite aunts except for the facts that she’s a hardcore Duterte supporter and Marcos apologist. Do you like Chinese food? Yep, it’s one of my favorite cuisines. How far is the nearest Walmart? I can’t walk nor drive to it, that’s for sure. Have you ever been a designated driver? I’m always DD by default because I’m the only one among my friends who has a car other than JM, who also has a (much bigger) car but is terribly low-tolerance and will absolutely pass out. I get tipsy easily as well, but I sober up real quick and always make sure I’m 100% back to reality by the time I drive. Which means that I typically have to stop drinking earlier than the rest of my friends, but so long as that means I get to take everyone back home safe, it’s okay with me. What is something that always brings tears to your eyes? My mom yelling at me. Who is your 20th phone contact? My contacts aren’t numbered thus I’m too lazy to count manually. Do you have any plans to get a tattoo? It’s not completely off the table, but I’ve definitely toned down my original plans of getting tattoo sleeves and getting myself generally covered a la CM Punk (and I have to tell ya, I’m so glad I grew out of that phase). These days I prefer to have small tattoos to memorialize significant people or events, and some of my plans include my dog’s pawprint and a plate of nachos. Or a new piercing? Probably not. What would your name be if your last name was the color of your shirt? Brown. If you could find out how you would die, would you want to know? Yes. I hate the unknown and would rather be certain, no matter how ugly or nasty the certainty holds. Do you make your bed regularly? Every morning. Do you look forward to the weekend? NO. I have a 2-day meeting for my 2-day weekend. I am so dreading it. I just want to stay a lazy couch blob for another week. How much do you know about the mechanics of cars? I know how to turn a car on, go forward, reverse, brake, and open my gas tank... and that’s about it. Has anyone ever told you you should be a model? Model and beauty queen, yeah. How old was your mom when she had you? She was 26, but was turning 27 that year. Do rainy days get you down? No. I thrive on rainy days lmao. Who is the artist/band you're listening to at the moment? No music keeping me company at the moment. Do you ever take aspirin when you 'feel a headache coming on'? Not aspirin but I take a Biogesic. I dunno if those two or the same thing or not. Is there a calendar in the room you're in? Nope. Do you prefer to be in a relationship or be single? I’ve been seeing a person for technically six years, so now I prefer a relationship after being accustomed to having one for so long. If you're single, do you wish you were in a relationship? Have you ever had your heart broken? Sure. Do you live within an hour of the beach? No. I’m very far away from the beach :( How do you like your steak? Rare or medium-rare. Were you born in the 1980s? I was not. A Few Firsts What was the first sound you heard when you woke up? I woke up to the sound of my mom calling me on my phone. I was half-asleep and didn’t feel like answering, so I muted it and went back to sleep. I feel guilty now that I remember, but she didn’t call back or text me so it probably wasn’t a big deal. Who was your first best friend? It was a girl named Kaye from kinder. We were good friends for like two years, and then we got sorted to different sections in Prep and drifted apart after that. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? I’ve said her name so many times on these surveys already. Y’all know. Who was your first date to a formal dance? I haaaateeeeed the idea of asking guys out and being in a relationship for most of high school, so I made sure I only asked my cousin for my prom. How bad was your first break up? Pretty messed up. There was a lot of tension and resentment and confusion in the beginning. Throw in my grandfather’s sudden death and me taking the UPCAT, and you have my mental health completely rattled! What was your first favorite movie? High School Musical, for sure. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. What was your first trip to the emergency room for? My platelet count was really low, I was in danger of getting dengue, and had to stay the night at the hospital. Then there was sticking the IV onto my wrist, upon which I made a complete scene in the emergency room and thrashed and kicked around while my (very frail) grandma (sorry, Lola) tried to hold me down with a lot of patients watching lol. Where was the first place you went today? The kitchen. Who was the first person you saw? My sister, I think. What was the first thing you thought about when you woke up? I wondered why my mom called, realized I was too sleepy to care, and went back to bed. Do you remember the first time you spent the night away from home? Yupppp. I was in third grade, my club had an overnight camping thingy as its culmination activity, and it was the first time ever that I was allowed to spend the night somewhere else. I remember being around a campfire, roasting marshmallows for the first time, having to share a sleeping mat with Katreen, and her kicking me in her sleep.
Where was your first big vacation to? Boracay. What was your first job? None yet. I’ll make sure to update you by the end of the year. What was the first thing you had to drink today? Coffee.
Some Lasts Where was the location of your last kiss? My girlfriend’s car, when she dropped me back at my place. How old was the last person you kissed? 21. What was the last movie you rented? I’ve never experienced renting a movie, which definitely confirms my status as a Gen Z kid lmao. But I can tell you that the last movie I watched was Knives Out. Where was the last place you went? Other than around my house, we went to church last Tuesday night for New Year’s Eve mass. What was the last restaurant you went to? Yabu. Who was the last person to call you? My mom, this morning. Who was the last non-relative you spoke in person to? Gabie. What was the last thing you bought? I got dinner from Yabu, haha. When was the last time you drove more than an hour somewhere? December 14th. That evening was INSANE. It was Saturday + Christmas traffic, and it took me two hours to travel from Antipolo to Rita’s place in Makati. JM and I drove separately cos we were a big group - his drive took FOUR hours. Why did you last get angry? My thesis prof was doing us so fucking dirty and I couldn’t do anything about it. What color was the last vehicle you rode in? Blue-green. How long ago was your last birthday? NIne months. When did it last rain? It drizzled a little bit yesterday. What was the age difference between you and your most recent ex? A month and a half. When was the last time you used a dictionary? Maybe an hour ago for a word I used in a past survey lol. Mini iPod Shuffle: Don't Cheat, Use Whatever Song Comes Up, No Matter How Ridiculous (I have several playlists, so I’ll just use the Spotify-curated playlist made for Gab’s account called Your Top Songs 2019 hahahaha) My love song: Love song - Lana Del Rey (Wow.) My fight song: Swim Against the Tide - The Japanese House My break-up song: New Light - John Mayer The song for when I'm sad: Money - Leikeli47 The song for when I'm angry: Constant Conversations - Passion Pit My song to have sex to: Bad Girls - Tennis The song about my ex: Just the Same But Brand New - St. Vincent The song about my best friend: Juice - LIZZO The song about my crush: Seventeen - no rome My 'feel good' song: Venice Bitch - Lana Del Rey The theme song of my life: Formation - Beyoncé I literally know four of these songs, which I’ve since bolded just so y’all know that I have no idea what the other seven songs are and if they make sense with the situations at hand. Gab clearly uses her account more than I do, which should be the case anyway lmfaoooooo.
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pcttrailsidereader · 4 years
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8 Tips for Preventing Injury and Making the first 100 PCT miles a Success
Originally posted on February 26, 2018 on 2 Foot Adventures  . . . this advice is very wise.  I have seen lots of otherwise strong hkers in agony not far from Campo because they went too far, too fast.  Blisters, stress fractures, and strains can all derail the best plans.
The PCT is a journey, not a race. This can’t be overstated enough as you embark upon the first 100 miles of your 2,660-mile hike to Canada. Injury is among the top reasons hikers leave the trail in the first 100-300 miles. The tips provided below will help you avoid injury and keep you walking happy and healthy well beyond these first miles.
BEFORE THE TRAIL
8. Train - So many thru-hikers neglect this part. Being physically fit before starting the trail is the #1 way to avoid injury on the trail. It’s not a requirement, but it is REALLY REALLY helpful and makes the first 100 miles a little easier. Even if you are fit, the first 100 miles is still tough and will challenge you in ways you never dreamed before. If you live in a place not conducive to training outdoors there are lots of ways you can train indoors. The areas of focus should be:
~ Time on your feet with your backpack fully loaded. One hiker in 2017 told me she lived way up north, almost in the Arctic Circle, and she walked circles in her living room for up to 8-hrs a day to get her body ready. Maddening! But she arrived strong and fit and ready for the trail.
~ Develop strong legs, core, back, and shoulders. When you hike for many hours a day with a backpack on your body gets tired and your body mechanics begin to breakdown. Once your body mechanics breakdown you need to stop hiking ASAP! Continuing on can quickly develop into an injured knee, hip, shoulder, etc. Strengthening these areas ahead of time is better than doing this on trail.
~ Develop a stretch routine that targets all your major muscles. Having a stretch routine before the trail will make doing it on trail much more likely and it’s a very good habit to get into when hiking for 8-10+ hrs/day.
ON THE TRAIL
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Certainly not THAT much!
7. Carry just enough water - I know, you’re starting your hike off in the desert. It’s hot. All the books/blogs say there’s no water for the first 20 miles. Have you looked at the PCT Water Report available here? Often times there is water in the first 20 miles it's just a short hike off trail, but there is water. In a wet year there are numerous water sources on trail during these miles. IF you decided you don’t want to walk off trail to get water then consider these items when planning the amount of water you’re going to start with.
~ What is the weather? - If it’s a cool cloudy day and rain is expected (this does happen) then you won’t need to carry the conventional 6L of water at the start.
~ Are you a small, medium, or large guy/girl? - A small female will not need to carry as much water as a large man. Analyze your size and water needs. I am a 120-lb female and started my PCT hike on a day with temperatures topping 100 degrees Fahrenheit. I hiked 15 miles to Houser Creek my first day. I used water in a lunch, dinner, and breakfast before reaching Lake Morena. I began with 4 liters of water and still had some left when I reached the lake. I’m from Southern California and was well acclimated to exercising in the heat.
~ How many miles are you hiking your first day? - There’s no need to hike all the way to Lake Morena on Day 1. You can split it into 2 days. If you haven't be able to train enough, plan to do it in 1.5-2 days and plan on walking the short distance off trail to get additional water so you are more comfortable during the hours and miles you are walking on the first couple of days. You’ll have plenty of time to do this and take numerous breaks.
Water is heavy, weighing approximately 2.2-lb or 1-kg per liter. It’s important that you know where your next water supply will be so you carry just a tad more than what is needed to get there. Be realistic about your water needs and know in many places you can hike a little off trail and get more water if needed. Know where those sources are BEFORE you set out each day and don’t rely on water caches. While 3rd Gate is usually stocked during the season, even if it’s out, there’s a hose a little further off the trail where you can get water.  
6. Reduce your food - Most hikers carry way too much food their first 100 miles. They dump half their resupply box into the hiker box and groan about the wasted money and weight they’ve been lugging around for the past week. When packing your food consider the following:
~ Hiker hunger doesn’t kick-in for a couple weeks, sometimes longer.
~ When it’s really hot most hikers don’t feel like eating a whole lot.
~ When you’ve walked all day in the heat and you’re exhausted, you don’t feel like cooking a hot dinner. Although if you’ve followed the advice above you won’t be exhausted. You will have taken plenty of breaks and not walked more miles than your body was ready for.
~ There are cafes/restaurants and resupply options available every 20-35 miles for the first 100 miles. Make use of those and don’t carry so much food with you to start. Your backpack will be lighter, your body will feel better, and this will reduce the chance of injury.
5. Don’t carry “backup” anything - I can write a book about all the “back-up” and “extra” things hikers carry in their backpacks. You haven’t hiked the PCT before or any long trail so you (or your family/friends) have a long list of “what-ifs” that you feel you need to prepare for. 99.9% of those things will not materialize. You only need the absolute essentials. You don’t need an extra shirt or pair of shorts. You don’t need 2 books. You don’t need 3 flashlights and 2 extra fire starting items. You don't need bear spray or a machete or even a bear canister. What you do need is a backpack that is light enough that you are comfortable carrying your food, water, and essential supplies. You may think that you will have tons of time to do “insert some activity here”, but you’ll be too tired to want to do those things, or you’ll be too busy making new friends, making dinner, napping, or looking at what’s ahead for tomorrow.
4. Take Lots of Breaks - You’re walking far, very very far, almost 3,000 miles! Stop and rest. Take off your backpack. Take off your shoes and socks. Stretch. Eat. Hydrate. Taking frequent breaks helps your body avoid injuries by giving it rest and an opportunity to move in a different way. Overuse injuries are VERY common on the PCT and result in hundreds of hikers leaving the trail. It’s advisable that during breaks you take time to massage your aching feet and legs. Move your body throughout a range of motions that are different from walking. It will feel good, trust me! And this is a great habit to form.
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OK . . . not THAT big.
3. Get really big shoes - Shoes are tough. Most hikers start with shoes they consider to be big. They size up a half or whole size and feel like they have lots of room in there for their foot to grow. The reality is your feet are going to swell up to 2 sizes during the desert and here’s why. You’re walking EVERYDAY. You’re walking FAR everyday. You’re walking with more weight than you trained with. You’re walking up and down mountains. You’re walking in 100 deg heat. All these factors contribute to big feet! Do yourself a favor and get really big shoes; your feet will thank you!
2. Leave your ego at home
- Sure, go ahead and laugh. You think you don’t have ego or you won’t fall into the pressure to hike more miles than you set out to do, but it happens…a lot. You’re in a new place. You’ve met a couple of really awesome people that you click with and want to hike with but they walk just barely faster than you. They walk a few more miles than you. Having them “leave you” isn’t something you want to think about so you do just a little more to keep up with them and then it happens….BOOM! You’re injured. Now you’ll get way behind them. Now you’re spending money resting in town trying to figure out if you can keep hiking at all. Don’t let this happen! Know that these awesome people will be in the next town when you get there. You will see them again and again and again. You will meet other amazing people. There’s NO reason to hike even slightly out of your comfort zone and it’s a REALLY bad idea in the first 100 miles. Let the speed demons go by you. You might see them laid up in the next town with a blown out knee or shin splints. HYOH - Hike Your Own Hike! Most importantly, Take Care of You!!!
1. Be a tortoise, not a hare
- What?!? Go SLOW! Take your time and ease into thru-hiking. Thru-hiking is incredibly strenuous especially when you are starting out. Your body isn’t used to the demands of hiking every single day with so much weight, in the heat, and up and down mountains that have trails that are slightly cantered to the left and then to the right. Make a plan for your first couple of weeks on trail. Be super conservative with your miles. Plan a couple of weeks at 10 -14 miles a day, less if needed. Plan to take a zero (no hiking day) at least every 5-7 days. Take several half days if you are near town. You don’t have to actually hike your planned miles every single day. Be realistic about your starting fitness. If you’re really fit, your backpack is light, and you’ve trained consistently, then maybe you can do 15-18 miles a day right off. For the vast majority of hikers, that’s too much. Don’t bother planning every day of your hike though. Things happen on the trail that you have no control over. Despite your best efforts you might have a nagging pain starting. There might be dangerous weather up on the ridge you where you were planning to camp. It’s good to be flexible with your plan, listen to your body, and take additional breaks.  
Keep in mind, the first 100 miles is indeed the toughest! That’s not to say that any single mile after 100 will be easy, but if you follow these tips, you’ll set a solid foundation for your PCT thru-hike that will last for many miles beyond the first 100.
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