#†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again.

[a-mnhia]

YOU WEAR AN ANCESTOR’S FACE.  YOU LOOK LIKE A WOMAN YOU’LL NEVER MEET     . . .     a story told in two parts     [ . . . ]      split between the past and the present.           . . .          IN THAT MIRROR,  THERE’S THOUSANDS OF YOU  AND IN THE BATH,   WHEN YOU LOOK DOWN,   SHE LOOKS BACK .        by anna.

#indie rp #indie gothic rp #gothic literature rp #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #it's symbolism #for her two selves #the one in the past #and the one in the present #and how they are mirror images of the other #laksjdlakjsd #okay this took way to long

[7r0773r]

Heavy by Kiese Laymon

Inside Concord Missionary Baptist church, I loved the attention I got for being a fat black boy from the older black women: they were the only women on earth who called my fatness fineness. I felt flirted with, and like most fat black boys, when flirted with, I fell in love. I loved the organ’s bended notes, the aftertaste of the grape juice, the fans steadily moving through the humidity, the anticipation of somebody catching the Holy Ghost, the lawd-have-mercy claps after the little big-head boy who couldn’t read so well was forced to read a greeting to the congregation.

But as much as I loved parts of church, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t love the holy word coming from the pulpit. The voices carrying the word were slick and sure of themselves in ways I didn’t believe. The word at Concord was always carried by the mouths of the reverend, deacons, or other visiting preachers who acted like they knew my grandmama and her friends better than they did.

Older black women in the church made up the majority of the audience. But their voices and words were only heard during songs, in ad-libbed responses to the preacher’s word and during church announcements. While Grandmama and everyone else amen’d and well’d their way through shiny hollow sermons, I just sat there, usually at the end of the pew, sucking my teeth, feeling superhot, super bored, and really resentful because Grandmama and her friends never told the sorry-ass preachers to shut up and sit down somewhere.

My problem with church was I knew what could have been. Every other Wednesday, the older women of the church had something called Home Mission: they would meet at alternate houses, and bring their best food, their Bibles, notebooks, and their testimonies. There was no instrumental music at Home Mission, but those women, Grandmama’s friends, used their lives, their mo(u)rning songs, and their Bibles as primary texts to boast, confess, and critique their way into tearful silence every single time.

I didn’t understand hell, partially because I didn’t believe any place could be hotter than Mississippi in August. But I understood feeling good. I did not feel good at Concord Missionary Baptist church. I felt good watching Grandmama and her friends love each other during Home Mission. (Be, pp. 54-55)

***

You were on your way back from Hawaii with Malachi Hunter while LaThon Simmons and I sat in the middle of a white eighth-grade classroom, in a white Catholic school, filled with white folk we didn't even know. These white folk watched us toss black vocabulary words, a dull butter knife, and pink grapefruit slices back and forth until it was time for us to go home.

We were new eighth graders at St. Richard Catholic School in Jackson, Mississippi, because Holy Family, the poor all-black Catholic school we attended most of our lives, closed unexpectedly due to lack of funding. All four of the black girls from Holy Family were placed in one homeroom at St. Richard. All three of us black boys from Holy Family were placed in another. Unlike at Holy Family, where we could wear what we wanted, at St. Richard, students had to wear khaki or blue pants or skirts and light blue, white, or pink shirts.

LaThon, who we both thought looked just like a slew-footed K-Ci from Jodeci, and I sat in the back of homeroom the first day of school doing what we always did: we intentionally used and misused last year's vocabulary words while LaThon cut up his pink grapefruit with his greasy, dull butter knife. "These white folk know here on discount," he told me, "but they don't even know."

"You right," I told him. "These white folk don't even know that you an ol’ grapefruit-by the-pound-eating ass nigga. Give me some grapefruit. Don’t be parsimonious with it, either."

"Nigga, you don’t eat grapefruits,” LaThon said. “Matter of fact, tell me one thing you eat that don't got butter in it. Ol’ churning-your-own-butter-ass dying laughing. "Plus, you act like I got grapefruits gal-low up in here. I got one grapefruit."

Seth Donald, a white boy with two first names, looked like a dustier Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, but with braces. Seth spent the first few minutes of the first day of school silent-farting and turning his eyelids inside out. He asked both of us what "gal-low" meant.

"It's like galore," I told him, and looked at LaThon. "Like grapefruits galore."

LaThon sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. "Seth, whatever your last name is, first of all, your first name ends with two f's from now on, and your new name is Seff six-two because you five-four but you got the head of a nigga we know who six-two." LaThon tapped me on the forearm. "Don't he got a head like S. Slawter?" I nodded up and down as LaThon shifted and looked right in Seff 6'2's eyes. "Every thang about y’all is erroneous. Every. Thang. This that black abundance. Y'all don’t even know."

LaThon's favorite vocab word in seventh grade was "abundance," but I'd never heard him throw "black" and "that" in front of it until we got to St. Richard.

While LaThon was cutting his half into smaller slices, he looked at me and said Seth six-two and them didn't know about the slicing "shhhtyle" he used.

Right as I dapped LaThon up, Ms. Reeves, our white homeroom teacher, pointed at LaThon and me. Ms. Reeves looked like a much older version of Wendy from the Wendy restaurants. We looked at each other, shook our heads, and kept cutting our grapefruit slices. “Put the knife away, LaThon, she said. *Put it down. Now!"

"Mee-guh," we said to each other. "Meager," the opposite of LaThon's favorite word, was my favorite word at the end of seventh grade. We used different pronunciations of meager to describe people, places, things, and shhhtyles that were at least eight levels less than nothing. "Mee-guh," I told her again, and pulled out my raggedy Trapper Keeper. "Mee-guh." 

While Ms. Reeves was still talking, I wrote "#1 tape of #1 group?" on a note and passed it to LaThon. He leaned over and wrote, "EPMD and Strictly Business." I wrote. #1 girl you wanna marry?" He wrote, "Spinderalla + Tootie." I wrote, "#1 white person who don't even know?" LaThon looked down at his new red and gray Air Maxes, then up at the ceiling. Finally, he shook his head and wrote, "Ms. Reeves + Ronald Reagan. It's a tie. With they meager ass."

I balled up the note and put it in my too-tight khakis while Ms. Reeves kept talking to us the way you told me white folk would talk to us if we weren't perfect, the way I saw white women at the mall and police talk to you whether you'd broken the law or not.

I understood how Ms. Reeves had every reason in her world to think I was a sweaty, red-eyed underachiever who drank half a Mason jar of box wine before coming to school. That's almost exactly who I was. But LaThon was as close to abundant as an eighth grader could be. (Meager, pp. 65-67)

***

When I came back from playing ball at the Greenbelt rec center during spring break, you made me read back over sentences I’d written in my notebooks back in Mississippi. You said I asked a lot of questions about what I saw and heard in my writing, but because I didn’t reread the questions I didn’t push myself to different answers. You said a good question always trumps an average answer.

“The most important part of writing, and really life,” you said, “is revision.” (Contraction, p. 85)

***

When I got in the house, you brought your belt across my neck. Earlier in the day, Ms. Andrews, one of your friends who was a teacher at my school, told you Coach Shitzler said I was in a sexual relationship with a white girl. You heard this “news” on the same day you watched a gang of white police officers try to kill a chained black man they later claimed had “Hulk-like” strength.

I did not know Rodney King, but I could tell by how he wiggled, rolled, and ran he was not a Hulk. Hulks did not beg for mercy. Hulks did not shuffle from ass whuppings. Hulks had no memories, no mamas. I wondered what niggers and police were to a Hulk. I wondered if all sixteen-year-old Americans had a little Hulk in them. 

I knew, or maybe I accepted, for the first time no matter what anyone did to me, I would never beg anyone for mercy. I would always recover. There was physically nothing anyone could do to me to take my heart, other than kill me. You, Grandmama, and I had that same Hulk in our chest. We would always recover. At some point during my beating, I just stopped fighting and I let you hit me. I did not scream, I did not yell. I barely breathed. I took my shirt off without you telling me. I let you beat me across my back. It was the only beating in my life where watching you beat me as hard as you could felt good. (Hulk, pp. 96-97)

***

I listened to the Coup and read everything James Baldwin had written that summer. I learned you haven’t read anything if you’ve only read something once or twice. Reading things more than twice was the reader version of revision. I read The Fire Next Time over and over again. I wondered how it would read differently had the entire book, and not just the first section, been written to, and for, Baldwin’s nephew. I wondered what, and how, Baldwin would have written to his niece. I wondered about the purpose of warning white folk about the coming fire. Mostly, I wondered what black writers weren’t writing when we spent so much creative energy begging white folk to change. (Already, pp. 143-44)

***

I’d never given much weight to the idea of present black fathers saving black boys. Most of the black boys I grew up with had present black fathers in the home. Sure, some of those fathers taught my friends how to be tough. But I can’t think of one who encouraged his son to be emotionally or even bodily expressive of joy, fear, and love. I respected my father but I never felt that I needed him or any other man in the house to show me how to become a loving man. I knew, truth be told, that a present American man would likely teach me how to be a present American man. And I couldn’t imagine how those teachings would have made me healthier or more generous. (Seat Belts, p. 200)

#Kiese Laymon #book quotes

[phantoms-lair]

Mirror’s Gaze part 17

Didn’t think this would happen? Honestly me neither. But I wanted to get it done for the 50th Anniversary of Scooby Doo tonight, so victory!

Previously on Mirror’s Gaze

They met again in the diner and Arthur wondered if there was an end to Shaggy’s appetite. He wished, perhaps selfishly, that he had Lewis’s cooking to fill the bottomless pit. No, definitely selfish, since Lewis already had to cook for Vivi when he couldn’t even eat himself.  As it was, the accumulated food costs had been adding up to a horrifying number. He tried to keep it to a minimum to keep costs down, but it seemed like he’d never be full again. Still it was getting harder not to not to start crying when he saw the total rising.

He had tried to get away with just a glass of water, by Velma had shot him Vivi’s ‘you’re not taking care of yourself’ look (And why did anyone but Vivi even have that?) so he’d ordered a large plate of fries. Maybe he should start looking for all you can eat buffets. Normally they were more expensive, but it might currently be the more cost-effective option.

The afternoon had been productive at least. The list of ex-Fezness employees had been huge, but the number of employees who could both build an animatronic robot and program in behavior was much smaller. In fact only five names came up. Louise Clayton, Marcella Garrett, Bertrum Reynolds, Frank Lambert, and Matthew Luna.

Velma was devouring the hidden file, apparently craving the knowledge it contained like this body craved food (once she was sure Arthur was actually eating). “This is fascinating. I can’t believe Professor Mansfield, his assistant, and student created this.”

“That’s not the only thing, look at this.” Fred pointed out one of the names on Arthur and Velma’s list, then at the front of the file.

“Jeepers, do you think there’s a connection?” Daphne asked.

“Very likely.”

Arthur craned his neck to look at the front of the document. Ah. “So time to call the police?” It was far from open and shut, but it was a reasonable connection.

Fred and Daphne looked at him oddly, though Velma was still engrossed with the document. “We haven’t caught the culprit yet,” Fred pointed out. “But don’t worry, I’ve got the first workings of a plan.”

“Why would we catch the culprit?” Arthur asked, confused. “I mean, yeah, citizen arrests are a thing, but this is literally what the police are for. We’ve found the clues, put them together in a reasonable fashion, now we turn over the evidence to the authorities who can legally make the arrest and build a case so they can be prosecuted.” 

Why were they looking at him like he’d grown an extra head?

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” Velma hadn’t looked up from the document. “It’s not like it’s a real evil AI. There’s a human controlling it.”

“Of course there’s a human controlling it.” Arthur was baffled. “And do you know what humans can have? Guns. Especially humans with a lack of respect for law and order. Not to mention none of what we found is admissible in court since it was obtained without a warrant.” He gestured to the document. “Or through illegal breaking and entering.”

Fred frowned. “It wasn’t like we were trying to rob the place, Arthur. We were looking for clues.”

“Which to do legally you need either permission or be a member of law enforcement with a judge-issued warrant. Evidence obtained otherwise is non-admissible and can compromise the integrity of a case, sometimes even causing it to be thrown out.” This was his job, at least one of them.

“Arthur may have a point,” Velma conceded. “Most of the clues we find wouldn’t fly in a trial. However, it’s almost moot in a case where the culprit is caught red handed and confesses, so as long as we catch him, it’ll work out.” 

That seemed overly optimistic “Okay, but can we get back to my other concern. Mainly, what if he has a gun?!” 

 “You worry too much,” Daphne patted his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

Arthur groaned, resting his head on the table. Even Vivi at her most enthusiastic didn’t completely discount risk. Misjudged, maybe, but never discount. His first impulse was to bow out now. Go to the police on his own, present his case, and hope they followed up. The problem was, he couldn’t rule out the kids doing something foolish in the meantime. He sighed. The best thing he could do to keep them safe was to stay and hope to mitigate. “Okay, what do you have so far? We can build on that.”

“Sure,” Fred felt a bit thrown off his game. Usually he just made the plan and everyone else went along with it. “We need to lure the robot out again. We can assure the creator wants this.” He tapped the file in Velma’s hands. “We just need someone else to announce they have a copy, maybe that it’s being patented in memory of Dr. Mansfield. The robot should come for that.”

“While basic behaviors could be programmed in, being able to react quickly enough to capture a person would require real time input from someone who was watching what was happening. So the culprit would have to be on site.” Velma deduced.

“Still might not be easily noticeable, if the commands are being given via a smart phone it’ll blend in with everyone trying to record it.” Arthur pointed out. “We could probably make a signal blocker without too much difficulty, especially if we can assume it uses similar systems to Fezness. But that won’t catch our culprit red-handed,”

“A blind?” Daphne suggested. “The robot is going to cause a lot of chaos, but judging by it’s fingers I bet it would have some trouble picking the actual folder up without losing pages.”

“And we catch our culprit when he goes for the file.” Fred grinned. Sure, it didn’t involved building a trap, but he had to admit coming up with the plan together was fun. “He won’t come close if there’s a lot of people there, so we have one person hiding in the podium ready to catch him the the act while everyone is distracted.”

Which would be the most dangerous location, being alone with the criminal while he was at his most desperate. “And who would the one in that position?” Honestly, he was expecting it to be Fred. He was the leader, after all. If it was their team, he knew Vivi would have insisted she be the one of the front line, at least before Lewis became a ghost and thus immune to conventional weapons. (She’d still try, but it would be possible to talk her out of it.)

So it was to Arthur’s surprise that everyone turned to look at him. And it was too automatic to be because he was older and more experienced. They expected Shaggy to be the one to get close.

“And why exactly do you think me, the one least wanting to do this, should be in the most dangerous position?” Of course, he was planning to anyway to keep the kids safe, but wanted to hear what they said.

“Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?” The question was automatic, Fred asked it without really thinking.

The fork fell from Arthur’s hand and clanged loudly against the plate holding his mostly eaten eggs. “Excuse me, I must have misheard. Did you just try to get me to do something dangerous by bribing me with dog treats?” His voice seemed to freeze the air around him. They’d never heard this scathing tone from Arthur and certainly never from Shaggy.

Fred, Daphne, and Velma froze, trying to switch tracks to the suddenly hostility radiating from Arthur.

“Raggy roves rhem!” Scooby barked back. “Re’d reat rhem rogether rall rhe rime. Ri...ri riss Raggy.” The great dane broke down into quiet sobs.

The cold fury seemed to wash away from Arthur, leaving an awkward atmosphere.

“We’re getting him back, Scooby.” Daphne promised. “It’s not going to be too long now.”

Scooby let out a low whine and rested his head on the table. He’d never been away from Shaggy for so long in his life. And phone calls were better than nothing, but nowhere near the same.

Arthur tentatively patted Scooby on the head, as if afraid him being a facsimile of his friend would just make it worse. “Just another couple of days. No more stops, okay.”

“Rop ror rood?” Scooby asked, a small smile showing he was joking.

“Yeah, don’t think either of us would do well if we didn’t stop for food.” Arthur agreed. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down the rest of the way. “Look, I’m going to check on the Fezness patents so we can build our signal jammer better. Let me know if anything comes up.” Arthur headed to the counter to pay his bill and then left.

The Gang watched him go, still in mild surprise. Velma took over petting Scooby.

“Well yeah, it sounds bad if you put it that way,” Fred said uncomfortably.

“True, but how else could you put it? We have been bribing Shaggy with dog treats.” Velma pointed out, subdued.

“Because he likes them. But right now that’s not making me feel better.” Daphne sighed. 

~

Arthur had hoped leaving would help him cool his head. Instead it was the opposite, as his mind replayed the conversation he’d just had, he felt himself get more and more worked up. As the patent information blurred together, Arthur realized he’d never be able to focus like this. He pulled Shaggy’s phone and dialed his own number.

It rang a few times before he heard his own voice answer. “Like, Shaggy here. What’s up Arthur?”

Arthur took a deep breath. He hadn’t exactly thought this through. “Um, so, the thing with the Scooby Snacks?” “Besides that they’re delicious?” Shaggy chuckled.

“Seriously?” Well, at least that confirmed what Scooby had said about Shaggy liking them.

“Yeah, like, you should try them.” Shaggy suggested.

Technically he currently had Shaggy’s taste buds, so if Shaggy liked them, right now he should too. But the thought of eating dog biscuits turned his stomach. “I’ll pass. This was more about them being used as a bribe to get you to do dangerous things.”

To Arthur’s surprise, Shaggy laughed. “That part of the mystery already?”

“That part...how often does this happen?” Arthur asked, shocked.

“It’s cool man. Like, I’d really rather we didn’t run into mysteries.  But to tell the truth, this part; I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it. Between track and gymnastics I’m the fastest and the best at escaping. Me and Scoob are the most likely to get out okay. The snacks are just, well, free snacks.”

 Arthur felt most of the tension leave him. “You don’t feel you're being taken for granted here?”

He could almost see Shaggy shrug. “Like, probably a bit. But then again, I probably take them for granted a bit too. Part of being human, man.”

“Shaggy, are you ready? We need to get back on the road!” Arthur heard Vivi’s voice calling out.

“Be right there!” Shaggy called back. “Sorry, got to go.”

“Vivi stops for no man,” Arthur agreed. “Scooby misses you.”

“I miss him too. Like don’t get me wrong, Mystery’s groovy but no one can replace Scoob.” There was such a profound sadness in his voice.

“Soon,” Arthur promised. “We’ll get you two back together soon.”

The call ended and Arthur admitted he did feel better about things.This was just part of a group dynamic he hadn’t expected. He turned his attention back to the signal jammer and almost didn’t notice when Fred entered the computer lab.

“I talked to Dr. Gardner. She agreed to help with our plan.” Fred said quietly. “And...I’ll hide under the podium.”

“Fred, my problem was never being the one under the podium. It was the knee-jerk reaction of going straight for a bribe when it looked like I was refusing.” And the dog treat thing, though that was apparently a non-issue. “No is a complete sentence.”

Fred looked like he’d been caught kicking a puppy. Arthur sighed. “I don’t like it, but I did talk to Shaggy and he’s okay with it, which is the important thing. Just respect it if he doesn’t want to do something, okay?”

“Okay. And that goes for you too. You and Velma can focus on the robot while I catch our culprit.”

“It’s fine. I can do this. This is the most dangerous part and Shaggy would never forgive me if you got hurt.”

“And what if you got hurt?” Fred countered.

“I think Shaggy would rather lose his original body than his friend.” Arthur could have kicked himself the moment the words left his mouth. Hurt didn’t mean death.

“No one’s going to die,” Fred said, as if he could make it so through sheer stubbornness. “I don’t know why you think this is so dangerous. We’ve done this a hundred times before. But if it makes you feel better, what about this—"

Arthur smiled as he heard Fred’s newest addendum to the plan. This he liked a lot better.

~ “Thanks for coming everyone.” Dr. Gardner stood alone on the podium in the middle of the outdoor stage. “Professor Mansfield planned to unveil this today as the capstone of the Robotics Festival. Since he can’t be here, I’ll be unveiling it in his stead. This was a joint project between Floyd and myself, along with one of our most promising students, Tabitha Reynolds. May I present -”

F̥̰͎͊͊͛ͩ̎̌̚o͖̬̱͔̯ǒ̙̮͈͕̹̰̙̆ͫͤ͛l̰̰̠̭͎̔ͩ̚iș̩̹ͥ̐̐h̘͕̖̜̑ͥ̋ͪ̐̀ ̣̠̯̮̂ͅH̥̼̳͍̥͇̹͐̽̂u̾m̟ͥ̿ͨ͛ȃ̹̝̥͗ͫ͂n̙̯͙ͮ̈͂͋ Yͯ̐͑̅ͥo̤͈͔͍͖̹u̹̪̗̣͇̺̬̎ͬ͒ͥ̓̓̚ ͒̓̄d̤ͫ̎̌̐̚o̲͔̻̭̜͍̺ͮ̎͐ ͇̤̩͊ͯͪ͐̓̊̇n̍ͤo͈͕̻̞͂̎̇͐ͫͮ̚t̉̃ͦ ̳̣̰̜͐̉̇ͯc͎̽͐͗ͨͤͮͣo̙n͚͇̗ṭ͖͇͓̻͇̼̅r̖̦̝̖͔̹͛͑̍͌ͧ͆o̞̱͛̈̎͑͋l̹̝̰̠̝̥ͩ ͓̟̖̤̤̣̈́ͬͣ̏̇̈́t͇̖̻̰̙̳̲͌͊h͑͛ͬͣ̄e̜̩̰̱̜ͩ̅ͬ̑͗̚ ̼͎̻̊͌̇͗mͪ̓̋ã̮̳̫̖̲͌c͎̻̞͖͉ͨ̆̈̉̃h̰̝̜̫͖̒̓ͨi͖͓̻͗̎n͒e̯̲̙͉̓̎̅͒͐ͩs̥̰͕̿̑ͯ͗͐̚ͅͅ,͔̰̒̍ͥ̌̑͐ͭ ͍w̞̦͇̥͚̲̋̂͑̇̍͋ͩe̟̼̙͆͑̅̓ͮ ͍̞̺̝̘͉̑͊ͅc̟̟̮̬̰̥̉ͬ̈́ͮó̱͇nͩ́̈͒̊̂t̤͕̭̟̯ͥͤ̃̈́̔ͩ͋ȑ̤͍̟̲̖̾̊ǒ͔͙͇͓̳̺l̺̖͎̣̎̈̆ͯ̍̉͐ ͚̝̮͖y̅̐ͪ̐ŏ̰̦̭͔̿̇̓̈͌͗uͧ̔

The robot who’d taken Professor. Mansfield appeared again, floating in the air. It swooped down on stage, causing Dr. Gardner to dive to the side to avoid it.

“Anything?” Velma asked over her phone. “Not yet.” Daphne was watching the stage through a pair of binoculars. “No one’s heading for the file. They’re all running away from the robot.”

“Roger.” They wanted the culprit to feel safe enough to get the file in the first place, so wouldn't be using the signal jammer until he’d made his move. Daphne was the look out, keeping a close eye on the file from a distance. Velma was ready with the signal jammer she and Arthur had put together, waiting for the signal from Daphne. Fred was also waiting for said signal to spring his trap. Arthur had been in the front of the crowd and was now by Dr. Gardner’s side, ready to help her escape. Scooby was likewise guarding Tabitha.

Somewhat thankfully, the robot was ignoring the student for now and focusing all its attention on the doctor. Shaggy had been right, though. His body was built for speed and it was easy to keep up with Dr. Gardner and help pull her away. If he'd had a better idea of how strong he was, he would have just picked her up and bolted. As it were, there was plenty of destruction happening from stampeding crowds when the robot swooped down to try and grab Dr. Gardner. One near miss resulted in Arthur pulling her out of the way just in time, causing the robot to barrel into a scale model of Stranshaw.

“Someone’s going for the file!” Daphne reported. “He’s close. Closer….closer....He shoved it under his jacket and he’s in position, NOW.”

Fred hit a switch, causing the door on the bottom of the podium to burst open as the net launcher fired out, trapping the man where he stood. At the same time, Velma hit her switch. The robot, without any new input, crashed into the ground and stopped working.

“We did it!” Velma cheered as Arthur helped steady Dr. Gardner. 

“Let me go!” the man on the stage snarled.

Tabitha gasped. “Uncle Bert?”

“Sorry Tabitha, but your Uncle was behind the Rampaging robot and the kidnapping of Professor Mansfield.” Velma explained.

“But why? You knew what this school and project meant to me!” Tabitha asked, distraught.

“It’s because of the project,” Velma explained. “Because your Uncle is working on his own version of the same thing. Sub-Atmosphereal Three-Dimensional Locomotion via Podiatric-based Apparatuses, or in other words, jet boots. The apparent propulsion system on the back of the robot was just for show. What really made it fly was his prototype jet boots. But they’re not ready. My guess would be the power supply is too bulky to be practical. Then he found out Professor Mansfield was working on the same thing, and was just about ready to publish and patent. He needed to keep Mansfield out of the way until his were done. That said, we knew he’d jump at the chance to see Mansfield’s notes, that how we knew he’d come for the file if he knew where it was.”

“But where is Professor Mansfield?” Dr. Gardner asked.

A stubborn expression set Bertrum’s jaw, but Arthur just grinned. “No worries. He’s going to tell us. Enlightened self-interest if nothing else.” Their culprit cocked an eyebrow. “Please enlighten me on how giving up my trump card is in my interest.”

“Because you’re not motivated by spite.” Arthur said easily. “If you were, the robot would have been given a test run against the executives at Fezness that cost you your old job. But you’re not out for revenge, just profit. And the fact that you’d backstab your own niece means you wouldn’t trust anyone else. So Mansfield is kept in a secret location where you’re taking care of him, since you don’t really want him harmed, just out of the way till your own patent goes through. Right now you could be charged with kidnapping, corporate espionage, and reckless endangerment. You’d go to jail, probably medium to low security, and while admittedly getting a job after you get out will be hard, it’s not impossible. Telling us upfront shows you never intended Mansfield harm and may get you a lesser sentence.”

Then Arthur’s eyes hardened. “Now if you were to turn this into a hostage situation, that would all change. Mansfield is restrained somewhere without access to food or water. That can easily turn lethal, especially since he’s not a young man. You’ve put him in a situation where he could die if your demands are not met. Now the main charge is attempted murder. There’ll be no lesser sentence for cooperation. You’ll be in a higher security prison with more violent tending inmates. And you can kiss any prospects when you get out goodbye.”

“And if Mansfield actually dies? Premeditated murder. You’ll never see the outside of a cell again. I’m not too familiar with the laws of this state, so I don’t know if it’s to the end of your natural life, or if the state shortens it for you. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. At the end of the day, you’ll do what’s in your own best interest. And right now, that’s telling us where Mansfield is.”

Bertrum held Arthur’s cool gaze for a second. “He’s in a storage shed on the outskirts of town. Unit 24.”

“Good work,” Arthur almost jumped. He hadn’t noticed the police getting there. 

“Of course, Betrum Reynolds wasn’t the only one engaging in some Corporate Espionage.” Fred declared. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Jorkin?"

“What are you talking about?” The gruff man folding his arms and tried to look intimidating.

“He’s talking about you being a spy for Crawford Loan Agency, and their sister company CLA Limited.” Velma grinned. “When Professor Mansfield was starting out he needed money for his work, money he got from the Crawford Loan Agency. In order to pay them back, he gave them a percentage on his patents. The problem was he’d gotten to a point where he didn’t need the loans anymore, he’d had enough money to fund a college. Jorkin was placed here to look for an opportunity to get him back under their thumb. Initially it was a planned meeting to attempt to get him to take out another loan. After he was kidnapped, though, Jorkin helped the agent from CLA break into Mansfield's office to steal his research. Needless to say, I don’t think the college will be keeping you. And considering the fact that your misogynistic views cost CLA an in with Dr. Gardner, I don’t know how interested they’d be in keeping you either.”

“You worthless bitch.” Jorkin’s meaty palm went straight for Velma’s throat. It never got there though, as Daphne grabbed said arm and Judo-tossed him onto the podium, smashing it under him.

“Don’t you dare touch my friends!” Daphne snarled.  Scooby growled menacingly and he, Fred and Arthur closed ranks around Velma.

“Attempted Aggravated Assault on a Minor!” Arthur called out to the police, who were already in the process of cuffing Jorkin as Reynolds was being escorted to a squad car.

“We’re aware of the laws, son.” said the cop cuffing Jorkin. “Incidentally, using Mansfield location as a bargaining chip would have been False Imprisonment, not attempted murder.”

“Oh I know,” Arthur said easily. “But I was banking on the fact that Reynold’s didn’t.”

Velma snorted and soon the whole gang was laughing. It was the kind of laughter that was a release of nerves, but laughter nonetheless. Though Arthur was a bit confused when Jorkin grumbled about meddling kids and everyone else just laughed harder.

~

“I can’t thank you enough. If you’re ever looking for a higher education, Strenshaw Technical Institute would be happy to have you.” Professor Mansfield was having a recommended stay in the hospital to make sure he was alright, so Dr. Gardner was seeing them off. 

“We’ll keep it in mind.” Fred shook Dr. Gardner’s hand.

“Hey Mister, Hey Mister!” The young boy they’d seen the day they arrived, Tommy, ran up to them. “It works great!”

He held up his dog, Saddie, for them to see. Only instead of a missing hind leg she now had a mechanical one made of plastic. Very familiar pieces of plastic.

 “That’s what you’ve been working on all this time?” Velma asked.

“Well, yeah.” Arthur shrugged. “I could help, why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s not a bad design at all.” Dr Gardner said, examining it. “Who knows, you may be the next Arthur Kingsmen.”

Arthur’s eyes widened as the Gang turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Kingsmen currently has the patent for the most advanced prosthetic arm around, as well as a few animal prosthetics. There’s a few more elitist members of the engineering and robotics community who aren’t very happy at being outdone by a car mechanic, but talent is talent.”

“The arm isn’t perfect, though. There’s still the nervous feedback issue, not to mention waterproofing.” Arthur looked a little sheepish.

“You’re familiar with it?” Dr. Gardner looked surprised.

“Yeah, I know the guy, just didn’t know he was famous.” Arthur admitted. He hadn’t known anyone outside Tempo knew about his arm.

“Well next time you see him, let him know Professor Mansfield would welcome him at SIT too.” 

“See, he’s perfect,” Daphne whispered to Velma.

Velma sighed. “It’s not happening, Daph.”

“Sure it can, you just need to think positively. We have at least another week to-”

“Daph, it’s not going to work because he’s not a pedophile.”

Velma’s response caused Daphne to stop short. “What?”

“Arthur’s 26, remember? Much too old to even be thinking about dating someone our age.” Velma said sadly.

Daphne looked like she’d bitten a lemon. “I completely forgot. And here I was just making things worse by getting your hopes up. I am so sorry Velma.”

Velma just shook her head. “Don’t be, I always knew this was going to happen.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “You knew?”

“Well, not the body switching, obviously. But I always figured my first crush would be an older guy. A teacher or professor or something.” She’d always pictured a good looking posh man, maybe in tweed. Arthur was exactly nothing like her imagined first crush. He was down to earth and smart without any academic airs. And yet somehow he was so much better than anything she’d imagined.

“That’s just how is goes, though. Mind you, if you and your crush getting together wouldn’t be a felony, maybe it’s worth actually asking him?” Velma nudged Daphne in the ribs gently.

Daphne turned beet red as Fred called out to them, “Coming girls? We need to check out so we can get back to the road.” They probably could have stayed and finished up the last day of the festival, but after seeing how lost Scooby looked without Shaggy, none of them had wanted to waste any more time. 

Thankfully they were all mostly packed and most of it was transferring the luggage to the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne had gone to settle the bill while Arthur and Scooby went to get some snacks for the road. Velma did the last sweep of their shared rooms, making sure nothing was left behind.

Satisfied there was nothing left but her laptop, she flipped it open to wait for the others to get back. She had been looking up the Mystery Skulls themselves and seeing what kind of cases they had solved. There were several kidnappings and returning stolen items. She scrolled through them until one headline caught her eye. She had to read it a few times just to make sure she’d read it correctly

‘Lewis Pepper, Local Private Investigator, Dead After Accident During Cave Investigation’

She read the article and cross referenced it with an obituary from The Tempo Times. It seemed legit. 

“But if Lewis Pepper is dead, who have we been talking to on the phone?” She narrowed her eyes. “Arthur, what are you and your friends hiding?”

~~~~

Zalgo text: Foolish Human You do not control the machines we control you

This case probably could have been done better, but at this point I’m just glad to be done with it.

Notes: Signal jammers are normally illegal, they slid by on this because it wasn’t effecting normal service, just the particular signal affecting the robot

#Scooby Doo #MSA #Mirror's Gaze #Ghost Writing #It's back! #Fred Jones #Daphne Blake #Velma Dinkley #Scooby #Arthur Kingsmen #arthur as shaggy #Lets try for a quicker update next time

[dyketectivecomics]

For book ends: “If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program" or "i wish you were here."

i finished writing this instead of finishing my hw tonight r i p 

but i def think it’s worth it, because it’s filled with some things I've been meaning to add to this story lmao (hope ya enjoy this dude! feel free to drop more requests anytime!!) ((also also, chronologically this takes place after the snowstorm incident, but uhh, hopefully before anything else))

…

“Are we still having DnD on Thursday? Since Alice said she had that thing-”

“I’m at least ninety-nine percent sure that Alice is only bailing because she’s trying to avoid having me inflict my wrath upon her so-called chaotic neutral ranger that almost killed the party during the last session,” Raven laughed bitterly, “Did you know she only stops by the shop when I’m not in now?”

Traci gave her own laugh, “That explains why the chat’s been so quiet then. I’ve been missing seeing our weekly No Problem dog.”

“Klari’s been dropping by this month with a new vine quote every week, so I haven’t missed it that much,” Raven shrugged, reaching for her stack of books that were newly discounted and ready to be reshelved. “But honestly… if business doesn’t pick up soon, things won’t be looking so great for our DnD nights here.”

“Ugh, is Peck still poking his nose around the block? I swear, creeps like him-”

“Trace, I’ve said it all before, and then some,” Raven stopped her, shaking her head, “There’s really no use to it.”

“We could get the gang together,” she suggested, “Try to unmask him-”

“Scooby-Doo style?” Raven asked mockingly, “I just finished the payments for the windows the last time you guys tried to face down Peck and his goons. I don’t want or need anything else getting broken around here again. Not to mention the probation half of you delinquents are still under for it.”

Traci playfully stuck her tongue out at the shopkeep before she leaned against the counter in thought. 

“It just sounds like you’ve had it real tough, Rae. I wanna know what we can do to help. That’s all.”

Raven sighed, turning over one of the books in hand as she tried to rearrange the display to suit her needs for the week.

“Honestly, Trace? I don’t think there’s much any of us can do,” she nodded as the final book found it’s home, and lazily walked back to where Traci was waiting for her at the counter, “But if my day gets any worse, I’m asking Hell if they’re having an exchange program.” 

Like fate, the bell at the door chimed an arrival. Raven began turning to greet the customer, not hearing any of the usual salutations she expected from her regulars.

“Welcome to- Speak of the devil,” she scoffed, incredulous at the sight before her.

Barbara Gordon was standing in her shop, once again. 

They hadn’t seen or spoken to one another since that fateful morning after the snowstorm. 

Rather… since that compromising position they had found themselves in that morning.

As soon as their eyes met, a light blush painted the librarian’s cheeks, telling Raven all she needed. That Barbara hadn’t yet forgotten that night either.

“Holy shit, that’s her, isn’t it?” Traci asked, stifling a giggle as the shopkeep shot her friend a glare. She could feel her own ears beginning to burn at the comment, regret making it’s home in the growing headache she could feel forming behind her eyes. 

Gods above, how she wished she hadn’t told her friends a damned thing about Barbara.

“I can come back later if you-” Before she even could reach for the door’s handle, Traci interrupted her.

“No need. I was just leaving!” She plucked her jacket from where it rested on one of the loveseats, pulling it on with a deft hand and calling over her shoulder as she left, “See ya Thursday, Rae!”

And in the blink of an eye, the shop was empty and quiet, save for the librarian and the shopkeeper. There was a long beat of silence before Barbara slowly began making her way forward, determination in every step.

#babsrae #rachel roth #traci thirteen #barbara gordon #asked and answered #spellboundtothestars #Book Ends #au: bookworm rivals #randywritesfic #there is SO MUCH i wanna do with the night force in this au but the main focus will still DEF be on the Romance obvsly #(also shout out to tee who helped me work out some of their classes even tho I've forgotten EVERYTHING that we've worked out bc I'm BIG DUMB #ah well. always time to fix that later #NOW BACK TO HW

[nebbychan]

Donk and Sparrow - Halloween

              Crisp and brittle leaves of all colors; scarlet, bronze, and gold all breaking off from their homes among the branches to gracefully cascade, floating along the breeze and landing on the pavement. The chill made it clear that winter was on its way, and any self-respecting Dallington resident would know that it was time to wrap their bodies in a multitude of neutral fabrics. Fall was a special time in Dallington, it signaled the end of barbecues, poolside parties, and humidity of the summer heat and announced the return of the infamous pumpkin spice lattes, succulent vegetables and fruits ripe for harvesting as citizens of all ages would charge to the nearest pumpkin patch or apple orchard to pick only the fattest and juiciest. But fall also served as a warning of the hard winter that was yet to come, temperatures were dropping faster than that of a piano at high altitude, and elderly residents would soon be packing and catching flights in Buffalo or driving to the nearest warmer states.

The worst of it all was the Christmas season.

Nebby had to relive those horrors year after year once she’d become working age, and make no mistake, the first Black Friday always left mental scars in a retail associate’s brain. She had no doubt that Tim becoming a sales floor associate at the old Sears in Pine Woods Mall will be one hell of a shocker for him. She didn’t do it in front of him, but behind the scenes she’d be crossing herself repeatedly and uttering, “En el hombre Del Padre, y Del Hijo, y Del Espíritu Santo. Amen.” Thankfully, Canny Tim had yet to fully grasp Spanish, though that doesn’t mean he didn’t know what “puta” or “cabrón” meant.

And what also served as a saving grace was the holiday that came before Christmas; Halloween.

               Halloween was always a popular holiday in the states, especially in Dallington. Once a year, a massive festival would be held, honoring the town’s founding. Meanwhile, the town’s club owner and DJ, Salem had decided to pack up and go off to the mountains for the weekend. It was a strange tradition of hers; she’d pack the RV with all the essentials, and drive deep into the woods only to emerge on November 1st. No one knew why she did it, but when approached she’d instantly snap, “I just need some time to myself, okay?” Nope, definitely not suspicious at all, nope!

Of course, some punk kid would start a rumor that Salem was a serial killer or a narcotics addict, neither of which held enough evidence to prove either theories plus the addition of Nebby’s frightful gaze said otherwise. Nebby herself believed she was just writing new songs or trying to enjoy nature, she’d always remembered Salem as an avid hiker and birdwatcher. Lame activities, but someone has to have a believable hobby, right? Ann had her baking, and Nebby had her trips to the gym.

Nebby stopped by Salem’s small bungalow with croissants and parfaits, “Hey! Going on that yearly trip again?” she greeted. Salem had hoisted the last bag into her RV just as she’d approached her driveway, she smiled, “Yeah, oh hey, are those for me?” “Well who else in this town eats parfaits with pomegranates, dark chocolate mousse, and gluten-free vegan yogurt?” Nebby placed a hand on her hip and flashed a roguish grin. “Don’t you diss the good name of Velvet yogurt, its good shit and you know it.” Salem laughed as she accepted the care package, “So I hear this is gonna be Tim’s first Halloween, it kinda sucks I won’t be here to see it.” “Yeah well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything with him; fucker’s still shaken up after watching IT last night.” Nebby folded her arms and scoffed, “Lost his shit at the sewer drain scene and wouldn’t keep his hands off his face to watch the rest.” “R.I.P Georgie.” Salem shook her head, “You know Tim’s a medieval solider, right? His time was really fucked up you know, and I don’t think introducing him to horror movies was a good idea, you might trigger something.” “He watched the entirety of the Exorcist without blinking an eye, matter of fact…other horror movies are just fine with him- well, except the time he got super nauseated after watching the Saw movies.” Nebby scratches her head.

“You think he might have coulrophobia?” “Canny Tim, afraid of clowns…? I’ve heard of his discomfort towards mirrors, but not clowns.” “Well, it’s a possibility. You said he couldn’t watch IT without covering his eyes.” “In his defense, I probably should’ve warned him there was gonna be a lot of child death in this…” “Well if he does, then you guys might want to be careful.” “And why do you say that?” “Well, I guess there are clowns popping up all over the country again.” “Really, are you serious? This shit again? Welp, welcome to Clownpocalyse, mother fuckers, buckle up!” “Yeah, I’d recommend carrying bear mace or something.” “I’ll add that to my grocery list.”

Salem snorted, “Anyway, I should probably start heading out before traffic starts congesting like flu season. You got your meds, right?” “Like I want to spend this year’s Halloween stuck in bed.” Nebby rolled her eyes, “you have a safe trip, okay?” “You better have some tamale ready for me when I get back.” Salem stuck her tongue out at Nebby, earning a playful expression in return. She waved goodbye as her friend pulled out and drove off. Putting her hands into her pockets, she sighed and began the walk home.

.

.

.

               “Me? Going on a hunting trip with you! Oh no, fuck no, last time I went you nearly took an eye out!” Orion angrily pointed to his left eye. Kardok frowned and punched his shoulder, “’at was ower 700 years ago, wimp, gle ower it.” “I know you’re just going to leave me in the woods or use me as target practice.” The clone glared daggers at the centaur, folding his arms and tapping his non-bandaged foot. “Ah won’t, Ollie said Ah cooldn’t anyway.” Kardok groaned, “an’ besides, dae ye pure want tae bide haur an’ deal wit’ Zarok instead ay shootin’ deer an’ elk?” He did drive a good point, whichever minion that stayed behind had to give him a bubble bath. And bubble baths were the worst, last person to go was Oliver, and he was later found in his room rocking himself by a corner. Orion cringed, “Okay, I guess you’re right.” “’En gle packin’, yoo’re burnin’ daylecht haur.” Kardok shoved him towards the stairs, Orion stumbled and grumbled to himself as he regained balance and began walking up towards his room to pack. Oliver entered the foyer with suitcases in hand, “I’m so excit’d! A whole weekend trippeth all to ourselves!” he smiled, “and twas awfully kind of Zeal to lend us the RV, I wast almost worried we’d has’t to travel by foot!” “Aye, its bin tay lang since I’ve shot myself a braw stag ur tois.” Kardok agreed, stretching out his arms. He took the bags from Oliver and brought them outside to the RV. “Come your ways, doest that gent coequal knoweth we’re going on this trippeth?” Oliver inquired, slightly anxious.

“Ye pure techt Zarok…? Nope, has nae scooby whit we’re daein’.” “I see, then we’d best beest off ere that gent notices.” “Exactly wa Ah tauld Orion tae coorie th’ heel up…!” “Right, oh and ere we wend, may we cease at Lady Donk’s house?” “Wa dae ye want tae gang thaur?” “Just to inquire on which places maketh the best camping ground, we can’t just wend anywhere in the woods.” “Braw, an’ mebbe while we’re thaur she can hook us up wit’ some ay ‘er scran.”

Oliver grinned and once Orion finally pulled through with his luggage- even though he wound up falling down the stairs due to the weight, they headed out. Of course, there was the quick stop at Nebby’s house. Kardok stopped the RV and hopped out with the others, knocking on her front door. Lately he’d noticed the unusual change in setting, not just in this house but all over town; carved pumpkins scattered everywhere, cheap cloth with faces crudely drawn onto them, fake displays of witches and cobwebs. He’d once almost jumped at the sight of the giant spider resting on Ann’s rooftop! None of it was real, of course, but still, quite the scare! Apparently, this was for “Halloween”. Kardok had never heard of it, nor was he interested in knowing what it was about.

What also annoyed him were the inconsistent puns. Oh, the puns.

“Spooky Savings”

“Boo-ze for you”

“Three fears for discounts”

“Witches Crew”

God, if he had to endure one more pun, so help him he will go on a rampage. And wrestling with an enraged centaur was not easy. Just then, the front door opened, and standing there with a cup of tea in hand and glowering at him was Tim. He hissed, “What do you want, Bhaltair?” “Is Nebby haem?” He frowned.

               “I’m afraid not, she’s gone to see Ms. Hallows at the moment.” He shook his head, “Now, please leave.” He was about to shut the door when Kardok blocked him with one of his hooves. Tim was getting frustrated, “I already told you, she’s not home, leave or I’m calling the authorities!” “Ah still need somethin’ ye ken.” Kardok said firmly, “I’m gonnae oan a huntin’ trip for th’ weekend an’ Ah need scran. Ye ken hoo te cuik sae gie tae it!” “Why you…! Well, first of all-!” But Tim stopped to think for a moment, a whole weekend without Kardok around? That means 48 hours of no hooves clattering against the pavement, no heavy breathing over his shoulder, and no threat of his magic arrows! This was perfect! And all he’d have to do was cook for him? Seems like a fair trade to him! “…fine, make yourselves at home, I’ll whip something up for you.” He sighed, slowly opening the door for him. Kardok grinned, but before entering smacked the mug out of Tim’s hand, causing the porcelain to shatter and its contents to get all over the wood flooring. Tim opened his mouth to say something, but just shook his head instead and slinked off to the kitchen.

Once he’d finished, he exited carrying with him several containers and pots all stacked together. “Alright, I’ve prepared enough food to last you the weekend, please return the containers and pots when you return, Ms. Nebula will not be happy to find that her cookware has gone missing.” Tim informed, carefully lending it to Oliver. And speak of the devil…

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Nebby growled.

Kardok replied, “Huntin’ trip.” “Oh. You’re going too? Well if you see Salem tell her I said hey.” She brightened up, only to immediately darken, “Next time though, wait for me to get home before you decide to invite yourself in, and for fuck’s sake, quit breaking my shit!” “Duly noted, terribly my most humble apology by the by, we’re in a drive and this trippeth wast last minute.” Oliver nodded. “Its fine, you guys go on ahead.” Nebby shooed them away. Orion stayed behind, “Hey, before I go, do you have like, a bunch of scary stories I could use? I want to try and fuck with Kardok on this trip.” “Do I look like a fucking library to you? Talk to Winston, he should hook you up.” Nebby then shoved him out. She then glanced at Tim, “What’d you make?” “Oh, not much, just some honey cakes and chicken soup.” He laughed, “But I’m glad to see you back home.”

               A grin crept up on Nebby’s face, “Awesome, I’m gonna head to the store to pick up some candy for the trick-or-treaters, you wanna come? There’s a chocolate in it for you.” She offered in a sing-song voice. “Make it two cases of sugar frosted cookies and I’ll grab my coat.” Tim smirked. “You fucking pig, get upstairs.” She snorted. “You created a monster Ms. Nebula!” Tim joked. “Fuck you!” she called back as he marched up the stairs.

Tim entered his room, it’d gotten better since he’d moved in; he had some posters hung up on the wall along with the many flowers Winston would gift to him on a regular basis. It’d gotten to a point where he had hung some of them onto the ceiling; it was neat save for a few fallen petals on the carpet. He opened the sliding door to the closet, inside was as equally organized. He had coats hung based off color coordination, size, and style, shirts and pants folded neatly inside drawers, plus he had a shoe rack to better arrange his shoes, ranging from sneakers to dress shoes. Other items were found such as a laundry basket and a backpack. He took a step back to think which he’d like to take, only to settle for a dark red coat with black buttons. After slipping it on, he practically flew down the stairs and outside, grabbing a lanyard and turning the porch light on as he exited.

The lanyard wasn’t anything special as it held a cardholder which kept his license and a copy of the house key. Latching the front door shut, he entered the passenger side of Nebby’s car. She smiled, “Took you long enough.”

               As they drove towards the direction of the supermarket, Tim looked out into the window. “Ms. Nebula,” He started, “Tell me more about Halloween.” “Sure, you want the short version or the long version? The long version also includes some of Dallington’s history.” She offered. “The long version, please, I want to know everything.” He answered.

“For starters, Halloween wasn’t always called that,” she began, “It has its roots in age-old European traditions, it started with the Celtics, and they called it Samhain, it was a festival consisting of bonfires and people wearing costumes and carving into vegetables to ward off ghosts. They believed that on that night, the boundary between the realms of the living and dead became blurred. So to any evil spirits, it was like a possession buffet for them.” Nebby continued, “But uh, nowadays people dress up for the fun of it…spirit of the season and all that. Anyway, Halloween didn’t come to America until the colonial times, but it wasn’t celebrated as frequently, but when it was, colonizers gathered to exchange ghost stories and start fucking shit up. At that time, they called it, All Hallows Eve. The holiday didn’t pick back up until the early 20th century during the Second World War, when kids started begging for food, marking the staple of Halloween, trick or treating. And Jack-O-Lanterns didn’t pick up until the immigration wave, thanks to the Irish.”

“But what does your town have to do with it?”

“Glad you asked, to give a better understanding, Dallington was founded by Quakers back on October 31st in 1643, before the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts. Before then, it was at first a clan of Irish, Spanish, and French immigrants, along with Native Americans and freed or escaped slaves.” She explained, “They were a small community at first, looking to help each other out and find true peace in the New World. The population was small; I’d say around 150 people- farmers and merchants before the trials. By that time, those who had managed to flee upon accusation came here to hide and later start anew. When the trials were over, on Halloween of 1693, the citizens had gathered outside Salem’s cemetery to mourn and give their respects to those who had lost their lives. Then a year later, a massive feast was held to honor them and those who had passed in their town or in the immigrant’s home countries, some female residents dressing as witches and male residents as demons…basically a middle finger to the Puritan assholes and to the bitchy group of teen girls that started the hysteria.”

“All in all, Halloween was the staple of Dallington’s history, serving as a break from the hardworking conformity.” She smiled, “Although, this is just barely scratching the surface. There’s a lot more to this town than a discount Dia de Los Muertos celebration to piss off religious conservatives.”

He blinked, “I had no idea Dallington had such a connection.” “Well, they did.” She chuckled, “Though, no town goes without its enemies. After that little stunt, in January 4th, 1694, nearby Puritan settlements launched an attack on Dallington. There weren’t any casualties, but they did try to burn down the library, which they hated the most, by the way. Yeah, they didn’t get along, like, at all. Hell, at the end of that month, they tried bringing the Witch Trials back, though it was unsuccessful.” “And why was that?” He wondered. “Easy, because all their women freaked out and moved to Dallington; and without women they couldn’t populate, so the remaining settlers basically died off, probably of dysentery or something to warrant the Darwin Award…” She answered, gripping onto the steering wheel, “Good on them, I hate Puritans.” Tim laughed, “Even if they’re not around anymore?” “Oh no, they’re still here, they’re just not called that anymore.” She shook her head.

               They arrived at a nearby Halmart a while later, and after going inside, Nebby grabbed for a shopping cart and darted straight for the seasonal section. Being this was Dallington, their seasonal section was massive, as it took up nearly half of the gardening section! Stocked were bags of mixed candies, trick-or-treating pails, boxes stuffed with inflatable or cluttered decorations, and of course, costumes! Seeing as lately her hands had been tied with practically babysitting Tim, putting up with likes of Zarok, her store, and occasional trips to the gym, Nebby had little time to decide on a costume. But she decided, hey, while she was there, why not pick something out? And maybe she could include Tim in this if he wanted to. Walking through the candy aisle, she extended her arm so her hand would be knocking over all the bags, and when she began to power walk past, bags filled with candy began falling off the shelves and into her shopping basket. When she was sure her basket was filled completely, she turned towards the costumes. Tim kept close to her as they walked, completely perplexed by what she’d done.

“Hey Timmy, look at this costume!” Nebby pulled out a costume from the rack, it was contained in a bag, but the front had a picture of a person dressed in a blue tunic with white trousers and boots, and holding in his hand was a sword and a shield. It said “Breath of the Wild”, though in all honesty, everyone knew who this was. She grinned, “Do you want to dress up for Halloween? It’s not too late to get a costume!” “Isn’t dressing up a children’s activity?” he asked. “You’re never too old to dress up! I don’t understand where the fuck these bullshit adult expectations came from, just because I’m 30 doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy anything!” She retorted, “C’mon, at least try to have fun.” Tim sighed and took the bag from her, “Fine, I’ll give it a try.” “Yes!” She fist pumped in victory. As Nebby left the aisle, and Tim hadn’t noticed this before, he noticed a figure standing across from a display of inflatable ghosts, he’d only managed to catch a glimpse of a red nose and confetti-like clothing, the wide grin and light waving made Tim’s stomach flip. He was about to take a step forward to investigate when he heard her calling, “Hey Tim, are you coming? I need to pick up some bear mace.”

“O-Oh, yes, I am! Coming, Ms. Nebula!” He then exited the aisle, before he did, however, he looked back to find the figure gone. Must’ve been his imagination…or perhaps it wasn’t.

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               Orion stretched his arms as he’d finally finished setting up the grill Zeal had lent to them, “Thought I’d never get it done…” He’d been left alone to prepare the grill while Kardok and Oliver hunt for deer, which wasn’t at all what he’d hoped for when he’d said he’d like to go on this trip. Then again, it was either this or scrubbing Zarok’s back. And on the plus side, it was relatively tranquil in the woods; he’d almost missed the smell of pine cones and that sweet fresh air that filled his lungs. Maybe it wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but it was still nice to have proper time to relax for once in a millennia. When he’d thought about it, all he remembered was nothing but stuffy rooms and endless clashing against swords. He’d obtained many scars and bruises in his life, most come from either Kardok or Zarok himself. But just one, just for one moment, he could have a moment to rest. The first day had gone off without a hitch, though not much happened. They simply scouted the area with the little daylight they had left, finding the best common ground for deer and whatnot, Kardok had already marked which areas he’d like to visit on his map! Afterwards, they sat outside the RV and eagerly wolfed down the chicken soup Canny Tim had provided for them, and then turned in for the night. Today was more about him setting up the grill and waiting for his comrades to return from hunting, they returned earlier for lunch, and though he wasn’t a cook, he’d managed to throw some meat in between two slices of bread and call it a meal, even if it displeased the centaur. It took an entire loaf, a whole bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a jug of iced tea to get him back on the field, and it was understandable, with an anatomy as complicated as Kardok’s it’d demand the twice amount of nourishment! That’s why they packed extras.

He then turned his head in the direction of leaves rustling; thinking Kardok or Oliver had finally returned Orion opened his mouth to greet them, only for it to be someone else.

He’d seen her before on occasion, particularly when Oliver came to the club for an interview. Her ombre hair hidden in an odd looking hood; tan leather- at least he thought it was leather, adorned with horns, fur, and animal bones. Orion blinked, “Uh…hey Salem, what brings you to the campground?” “Nothin’, Nebby texted me and told me you and the guys are here to do some redneck shit.” She joked. “Redneck…?” Orion repeated. “You know, hunt and get stupidly drunk. I’ve seen it before; my Dad and Uncle Mason did it when they were young.” She laughed. “Are they here with you?” He queried, but Salem shook her head, “Nah, Uncle Mason’s six feet under and my Dad is with my Mom back in Oklahoma.” Oh, so her uncle was-?

“Sorry to hear that.” He said softly. “Its fine, he’s actually buried near my campsite, I come up here every year to pay respects. And my camp is not that far from yours, it’s about half a mile up north.” She smiles, “If you guys want to drop by and have a beer later, I’m open for it.” “That’d be great, but just a fair warning, Kardok can be an ass sometimes.” He laughed.

“He’s part horse, though it’d make more sense if it were half donkey.” “Good one! So, any reason for the weird poncho you got there?” “This…? This belonged to my Uncle Mason; I wear it whenever I come to visit him.” “You two seemed pretty close.” “Are you kidding? He was my best friend before I met Nebby and Ann! Don’t tell them I said that.” “I’ll try not to squeal,” He smirked, “But hey, before you go, do you have any scary stories?” “Why do you want to know? Are you planning on scaring Oliver?”

“More like Kardok and getting back at him for all the bullshit I endured,” He huffed, “I mean, I get it, I looked like some arrow fodder and bear half of his DNA, but the other half isn’t him!” “Let me guess, he doesn’t accept that you’re not who he wants you to be?” She sighed, “Yeah, I get it. And as a matter of fact, I do have a story for you.” She pulls up a chair and seats herself next to the fire pit.

“Alright Orion, you ever heard of the Wendigo?”

               The sun had already set by the time Kardok returned, a fat and limp deer resting on horseback, a huge grin on his face. Oliver applauded, “Thee didst such a wonderful job! That deer nev'r saw it coming!” but his face then fell somber, “twas a shame we only managed to shoot one, doth thee bethink we've gone rusty?” But the centaur shook his head, “It ay practices mebbe, but definitely nae terrible.” They stopped in front of the campground, where Orion was found sitting alone by the RV. Kardok opened his mouth to ask, but was immediately stopped by the clone’s sudden remark, “Yes, the grill is ready, do what you need to do so we can eat already. I’m worn out so I can’t help, if I move another muscle I’d just fall apart!” Kardok huffed, seating himself by the fire pit and drawing out his knife to skin the deer and take its meat. Oliver stood by to take the undesirable parts and toss them aside, while also trying not to gag at the stench. Once Kardok had finished carving juicy pieces of meat, he got up to marinade them and put them in the grill.

As he did so, Oliver smiled, “Lest I so my most humble apology thee couldn't cometh, but, I trust that thee enjoyed the silence?” “I did, best three hours I’ve had in my entire existence.” He smiled back as he kicked back in his chair. But Oliver didn’t like that response, just as he was about to retort, Orion spoke up, “Seeing that it’s nighttime and we have a fire going, why don’t we exchange scary stories while we wait for the meat to cook?”

Kardok huffed, “Och yeah, there's th' Fortesque half ay heem...”

Orion rolled his eyes, “It’s a good one, I promise, and it does not involve a self-insert.” Though skeptical, the centaur seated himself back by the fire pit, mildly intrigued by that last detail. Oliver himself sat close by with as much interest. Orion grinned and rested his elbows on his legs when he crossed them, “Salem told me this story, she dropped by earlier to say hi and decided to tell me this frightening tale.”

   “They say, that in these woods- for centuries even, has been inhabited by a petrifying, gruesome creature known only as the Wendigo.” He began, “She tells me that Wendigo had lived in Dallington even before the settlers arrived and started building their colony. Though, there is a way to become one of them. This spot where we reside in as of now; was once the sight of an atrocity, the worst that this town has ever seen!” Now color Kardok intrigued! “Gang oan 'en, aam listenin'!” Orion nodded and proceeded with the story, “It was back in December of 1643, the year they had settled, while most settlers stayed within its borders two families didn’t. They were simple farmers, living a mundane and monotonous routine, at least up until the winter came. It had crept up on them so quickly, that before they could expect it, their crops had nearly wasted and shriveled up. Fearful that they would starve, the husband sent his wife, infant daughter, and young sons to live with a friend in town while he, his older sons, and the neighbor and his sons stayed behind to try and salvage for any good crop that may have survived. Alas, it didn’t. By the time they decided to join the others in town it’d had all been too late, the roads had become too treacherous and it wasn’t long until they forced into the farmer’s cottage.”

“Little by little, day by day, their supplies slowly dwindled. The farmer grew more distressed as each minute that passed was another minute without food. The nights were long; the husband began to hear tapping noises, which he had at first ignored. But when food became scarce, the tapping only worsened, growing louder each night until all he could hear in his head was the tapping and the painful growls of his stomach, begging and pleading with him for nourishment,” He continued, “The farmer knew that he and the others would not live to see the first spring if they didn’t eat. On the 50th day, the farmer had a new craving, the last of their food had gone, and now, they had nothing. But he was determined to provide, but to do so have to come at a heavy price. He’d eyed his current occupants, deciding that the fattest would have to go. That night, he ventured outdoors to retrieve an axe, and then crept back inside to his second oldest room. That morning, they had food. The neighbor counted heads and asked where the second eldest went, as usually he’d be down here shoving everything down his gluttonous gullet, but no answer came from the farmer, who was busy gorging himself.”

Kardok could only cringe, he knew exactly what was going on, and dare he think a man could do such a thing to his own flesh and blood. But Orion continued much to his dismay, “But as quickly as it came, it’d gone. And so the oldest of the neighboring family was paid a visit, that morning they had meat again, but the neighbor and his sons refused to eat, they’d become afraid of the farmer. The neighbor had noticed a change in the farmer’s appearance; he’d be seen drooling frequently, he’d lick his lips whenever he stared him and his sons down. They’d tried to leave, but the threatening snow storms threatened to gobble them up, and would shove them back inside, back into the awaiting hunger of the farmer. Eventually, the snow had consumed the cottage entirely, and they knew that they would not live to see the spring. At night, the husband was spotted mumbling to himself; his skin became increasingly paler by each passing day and his hair had grayed and fallen out in clumps prematurely, his eyes would stay open and bloodshot as his hunger kept him up at night, his hands would be shaking as it held the only axe in the house, the only weapon for miles. The creaking floorboards made the neighbor and his remaining sons, knowing of what they’d eaten, beg God for forgiveness as they knew that the farmer would come for them, after all, he was hungry. There was no fighting chance against the farmer. Come spring was when the farmer’s wife returned, opening the door, only then screaming in horror when her eyes laid upon the figure that was once her husband, digging his vicious claws into and feasting on the insides of their oldest son, still breathing, clinging onto life. His eyes rolled back, his arm reach out to her as a warning.”

“It was already too late for him, and it would be too late for her if she didn’t run.” He shook his head, “And that she did, but she never made it out of those mountains. Witnesses claimed to have heard her desperate pleas for help, her cries of agony, but no one came, for they were much too afraid of meeting the same fate.”

Orion concluded, “The wendigo- the horrid creature the farmer had become, was a frightening being of Algonquian folklore, and was born when a man selfishly slaughtered and tasted human flesh in times of famine, the first taste would be nothing, but slowly his mind would only have one thought; he had to have more. And the more he’d get, then the more monstrous he’d become. And although he’d have the food he’d so craved- being at the cost of his humanity, it would never be enough to sate his gluttonous desires.” “Och aye but whit abit th' other kids…? Th' yoonger ones fa biddin wi' their mammy…?” Kardok’s eye widened. “Lucky for them, they thrived within the town’s borders, and never once did they venture past,” Orion grinned maliciously, “For fear that they too would become the meal of the wendigo.” Understandably, Kardok didn’t feel like eating and neither did Oliver, as they’d lost their appetite. Quickly, they scurried into the RV to cleanse themselves and prepare for bed, but they knew no matter how many times they washed their hair or scrubbed their bodies with soap, it wouldn’t be enough to erase the ick of the tale.

Falling asleep was a challenge as well, especially for Kardok. He lied awake, his eye still wide open. He could not erase the horrible details from his head, and why couldn’t he? He was tough! A story like this couldn’t deter him from having fun. This was his trip, his vacation! Whether it was true or not, he didn’t need to know. Maybe tomorrow when they return from the mountains he could drop by at the Gold Room downtown and drown these silly fears with a few beers.

As his eyelids grew heavy, as his muscles loosened from the pressure, and his breathing had become less anxious, he’d finally began to drift off.

But then he heard tapping.

   Kardok sat up, but thought, it was just a branch. There was no wendigo here, plus, how would it still be around if no one wanted to come here? Logically, without any victims, the wendigo would’ve died of starvation. Okay, maybe they and Salem being exceptions but it was only fall! If these creatures only appeared in the winter- at least he hoped so, then he had nothing to worry about. But that wasn’t it, as the tapping continued. Kardok lied back down and shoved his pillow over his head to block out the noise, it wasn’t that he feared the wendigo, when something out of the ordinary happens; the least that could be expected was something within logic, the worst was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Perhaps there was a woodpecker or a homeless man trying to grab his attention, or perhaps it was a branch, the RV was parked under a tree, and loose branches were hanging close to the windows. Satisfied with this theory, Kardok began to relax and drift off.

But it wasn’t a branch, Kardok’s eye opened as he’d finally figured out what was causing the tapping; he’d seen Orion do it multiple times on their way here.

That was a fingernail.

Slowly, the centaur got up and reached around for a hunting knife, if it was an intruder, then he’d have something to fend them off. He was not afraid; he was Zarok’s Grand Champion! He’d seen much worse in his life, and had committed various atrocities not excluding murder. He’d ripped men apart with his bare hands, and he even shot a man’s eye out! The sound of the tapping bounced around the room, he looked down at Oliver’s sleeping figure, how in the hell could he sleep through all this?

Just as the tapping had started, it immediately stopped as Kardok then heaved a sigh of relief; finally he could rest easy now. At least, he thought so, as the tapping started back up once again, this time it was as if all the fingernails were tapping against the window rhythmically. He could tell that whatever was out there was just trying to get him to come outside, or at the very least annoy him. A sinking feeling in Kardok’s stomach forced him to edge slowly to the window; Oliver had them drawn closed before he went to sleep. As much as he liked it, he wasn’t necessarily fond of the sun getting into his eyes when he woke up in the morning. Reasonable, but considering the circumstance, it made Kardok all the more uncomfortable. With his free hand, he shakenly grasped onto the heavy fabric, the sweat that had accumulated and glossed over his palms was drenched by the curtain.

   Quickly, he opened the curtain to see who it was that was annoying him. To his relief, it was Orion, hair strewn all over the place, strands sticking out into the air and covering a portion of his face- well, more so than usual. His eyes had bags under them and he was slouched over, clearly a spitting image of Fortesque. Orion yawned and whispered, “Sorry to wake you up, I had to take a leak but I think I accidentally locked myself out, could you let me in?” Kardok blinked several times, fighting the urge to grin and suppressing his laughter, for Oliver’s sake. Of course this idiot would lock himself out. Kardok quietly exited the bedroom and made his way over towards the door, careful as to not knock anything over, after all, this was Zeal’s RV.

He stretched his arms and his hand then rests on the handle, the door opened, and Kardok poked his head out, turning it to see if Orion had stayed put or was at least standing by the door, but he wasn’t there. He frowned, “Orion, Orion, whaur ur ye? Ah swear, if thes is a prenk aam gonnae make sure ye gie sponge bath duty fur lae ay th' year!” But no answer, only the wind and the crickets could be heard. Strange, where was he? He was outside just a second ago. Grumbling, he shut the door and locked it, if that’s how it was going to be then he could stay outside all night! Kardok went back to bed, and while he managed to get some sleep, it wasn’t long for the tapping to wake him up again. He reached around for the alarm clock; “Its 2 in the fucking morning, what is this man’s problem?” Kardok thought to himself, once again covering his head with the pillow to drown out the noise, “He has the entire woods to use as a bathroom and the forest floor to use as a bed, why can’t he just shut up?” The attempts were once again futile. The only way Kardok could get any sleep was if he just went out there and shut Orion up himself.

As he got up, however, Kardok realized he’d left the curtains open from the last time he’d gotten up. And his stomach dropped like an anchor when he saw that it was not Orion outside. Matter of fact, he wasn’t sure what it was!

This man- no, this creature was tall, gangly and thin. It stood there, gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tightly over the bones. With its bones pushing out against the skin, its complexion an ashy gray, and its icy glossed eyes pushed deep into its dark sockets. It was as if it were a skeleton that had risen from beyond the grave, what lips it had was since long gone, red liquid dripping from between its fangs, though Kardok could see a long, slimy greyish-blue tongue slither out from between the gaps to lap the blood from over its yellowed fangs. And though they were separated by the glass, Kardok gagged at the horrific stench of decay. Granted, he was no stranger to the stench, but this…this wasn’t anything like it! The creature, seeing that Kardok was up, opened its mouth, matted black hair glued to the sallow skin. The maw revealed rows of its needlelike teeth, the hands were gnarly, razor-like talons, and Kardok could spot tufts of stained, matted snow-white fur. Around the neck and barely hiding beneath its fur the creature adorned a necklace made with human bones. And atop its head stood tall and proud, a set of antlers; whether they were that of a deer or elk, Kardok did not care, as he quickly sprang into action and shut the curtains tight. He turned over to Oliver who was still fast asleep, but now Kardok realized, Orion was still outside. Should he go out there? No, it was likely that Orion was a goner. But, Oliver was the kind of man who’d want everyone to stick together, “no man left behind” as they say.

To hell with it! If Orion’s gone, that’s going to be Zarok’s problem! He wasn’t going to go out there and risk dying again for this idiot! He wanted to be outside, so he had to pay the consequences. “Kardok?” he turned to see Orion up and unharmed, “What the hell are you doing? It’s 2 a.m.! Get some sleep.” Kardok blinked, how the hell was he still alive? “What're ye daein'? Ah thooght ye waur ootwith…!” He whispered angrily. “Outside…? Kardok, I’ve been in the RV this whole time, I just got up to take a piss and I came here to grab my flashlight!” Orion whispered back. So much for an honorable sacrifice, but still, it was good to see that he was unharmed. Kardok pinched his temples, “Nae, ye dornt need tae gang ootwith. Jist use th' a body we hae haur…!” “But the loo’s broken thanks to your fat ass!” Orion argued. “Jist use it, yoo're nae gonnae ootwith!” Kardok hissed. But despite his efforts, Orion grabbed the flashlight and proceeded to walk towards the door. He could’ve said nothing, he could’ve just let whatever that was out there snatch him up and gobble him whole, and yet, something within him told him he needed to say something.

Because without thinking, Kardok then blurted, “But there’s a wendigo it thaur…!”

Orion was seconds away from opening the door, he looked up at him and gave him an unamused glance, “Oh my god, Kardok, it was just a story, the wendigo are basic mythology and therefore don’t exist.” “Weel centaurs aren’t supposed tae be real an' yit haur Ah am.” Kardok crosses his arms. He did have a point there.

               It seemed like whatever was out there had finally gotten fed up, as the RV began to shake. The sudden movement nearly jolted Oliver awake, while Kardok and Orion went pale as they then heard movement coming from the roof of the RV. “Its oan th' roof…! Its oan th' feckin' roof…!” Kardok panicked. “Then don’t stand there with your dick in your hands, get us out of here!” Orion pulled Kardok out of the bedroom and shoved him towards the driver’s seat. “Ah cannae drife, aam part cuddie…!” Kardok protested as he was forced to sit down, breaking the back part of the seat. “You’re going to be in half if you don’t drive, now floor it!” Orion yelled, “The force should knock this fucker off!” The centaur was fiddling with the keys, finally jamming them into the slot and turning them, but the damn engine wouldn’t turn on. Oh why, oh why did the engine have to go kaput at a time like this? Kardok kept twisting it, uttering “Come on” repeatedly, his voice cracking occasionally and nearly breaking the key when the roar of the engine along with the high beams turned on at last. Just as Kardok was about to put on his seat belt, the wendigo crawled down from the roof and onto to the windshield like a spider, its head turning a full 360˚ and tapping on the glass. Orion and Kardok let out a shriek of terror, Kardok then slamming his front right hoof into the gas pedal, the tires emitting an ugly squeal. Turning the wheel all the way, Kardok began speeding off and out of the campground, madly turning the RV to shake the creature off, but it persisted.

It was no surprise that in amidst the chaos, Oliver would wake up as he was now standing by the breakfast nook grasping onto the kitchen counter and the wooden table for dear life, fully awake and confused. “What's going on, wherefore art we leaving the camp?” But no answer from either was necessary as his eyes were now directed towards the wendigo, he screamed, “Oh mine god, what is that, what the fuck is that!” “Wendigo and it won’t come off!” Just as Kardok answered this, glass shattered in his face as the wendigo had slammed its grotesque antlers against the windshield and with just enough space to hold on, its claws reached in to grab for the closest morsel; Kardok. The centaur began screaming like Jesus was on him; Oliver sprang into action by grabbing a knife from the block, “Hence with thee, demon from hell, back to the icy void from whence thee cameth!” and sunk the blade into its wrist. Blood gushed and spurted out like a geyser, getting into Kardok and Oliver’s faces as the wendigo howled in agony, simultaneously losing its grip on the frame of the vehicle and falling off. The loud, satisfying THUD along with a tremendous bump from beneath their feet made them all sigh in relief. Orion let out a shaky breath, “Good job, Oliver, now let’s get the fuck out of these mountains.”

Way to jinx it, as now they heard sputtering, the RV was coming to a stop.

“Nae…! Nae! Nae! Nae! Nae! Dornt teel me 'at hin' hud fucked wi' th' engine!” Kardok hyperventilated. Unfortunately, it had, as within seconds, the RV had come to a complete stop. “Fuck!” He slammed his fists against the horn; the noise could be heard for miles. They couldn’t stay here, the windshield was already smashed and none of them knew how to kill a wendigo. And no doubt the creature was not too far away from them, and it wouldn’t be long until it recovered and came back for a second round.

               Oliver had never seen Kardok flustered before, normally he was fearless- hell, he was Fear itself! But to see him reduced to this, it made him feel lost. Kardok was the one with all the knowledge, experience, and power to kill whatever crossed his path. But that was when they reigned in Gallowmere; this wasn’t Gallowmere, this was 21st century America and everything around them was a complete stranger to them. He didn’t know if they could kill a wendigo or not, heck, they might not live to see tomorrow if they don’t end up as a happy meal to a cannibalistic juggernaut. And rebuilding a body once it’s reduced to a chewed up, bloody mush was no easy task! Orion paced around for a moment to think; a lightbulb went off as he then whipped out a phone- a gift from Zeal he’d received a while back, and thank god, he was likely within close proximity of a telephone pole because he had bars! He switched the data on and typed into the screen. Kardok was appalled, “What're ye daein', thes is nae time tae be textin'!” “Shut up, I’m doing some research and it just might save our asses!” Orion snapped. A minute passed, and Kardok spoke up once again, “Och mah god, coorie up!” “Just a second, and…got it!” Orion beamed, “Okay, we can temporarily disarm the beast with silver blades, that knife Oliver used must’ve been made out of that. And it says here they hate fire, it’ll get pissed off but it should buy us extra time to run!” “And what about killing t, how doth we killeth t?” Oliver queried. “Stake it through the heart with a silver axe, lock it in a silver box, and bury it in a cemetery or churchyard,” Orion read the passage on his screen, “Use the axe to dismember the wendigo, salt each body part and either burn it or scatter the pieces by burying them in far, separate, and inaccessible locations like a well or lake.” “But we don't has't an axe, or knowledge of any nearby wells or waters.” Oliver shook his head. “'en that's it, we're fucked!” Kardok shouted. “Not if we leave the mountains, a small detail I left out was that the wendigo never ventures past its territory.” Orion frowned, slipping his phone into his pocket and opening the door, “We don’t have a lot of time, that wendigo might’ve healed by now, if we don’t move it’ll get in and devour us all.”

He was right, and before stepping out of the vehicle, Kardok armed himself with a few knives, a lighter, and a bottle of hair spray, just to be safe. Why he had a lighter and hairspray in his possession, no one knew, but at a time like this, it was best to keep silly questions until they were back in town. Plus, a makeshift flamethrower would be handy! Off they went, Orion using his phone’s flashlight as a means to guide him and the others towards civilization. Thanks to Kardok’s reckless driving, they weren’t that far off from the borders that separate the woods from the town.

   As they wandered through the woods, the group stayed huddled together, and by that, it meant riding on Kardok’s back- Oliver in the back as the lookout, and Orion as the guide. Aside from the flashlight, it was pitch black outside. The dark clouds had swallowed the moon whole, not a star was out to light up the sky either, every tree trunk reminded Kardok of the wendigo’s horrific dried up skin, every twig that snapped beneath his hooves made his stomach jump. His upper body was shivering despite the cozy sweatshirt he had on, an icy chill breezed past him, tickling the hairs on the back on his neck and goosebumps popping from the skin. He could swear the winds were whispering his name, he wanted to stop, but he knew that if he did he’d be condemning him and his comrades to the mercy of the wendigo.

They weren’t sure how long they’d been wandering, but clearly it was too long since the sun was beginning to rise. And by the time they reached their neighborhood, it was 5 am, and they collapsed on their driveway. The men were sleep deprived due to their paranoia and therefore on edge after their walk that they’d failed to notice the squad cars outside Nebby’s house! But in all honesty, they didn’t care what happened, it was likely nothing compared to what they’d just endured.

To add insult to injury, an RV was sitting on their driveway, and out stepped Salem. “Oh hey, lost your RV?” Oliver raised his head and nodded, “We hadst an accident last night and we hadst to walketh home...” “Sorry to hear that, boys,” She consoled, “Oh, and my Uncle Mason said you guys were a lot of fun to hang out with, he wants to do this again next year!” If Orion hadn’t been as exhausted as he was, he would’ve said something snarky. But, something about that sentence didn’t make sense, besides, wasn’t her uncle dead?

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.

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               Halloween night, unfortunately, Nebby’s plans to take Tim to the festival fell on its back when he’d displayed symptoms for the stomach flu. Turns out McDonald’s for dinner yesterday wasn’t a good idea, who knew his stomach could be as fragile as it is? Clearly he wasn’t lovin’ it! Still, Tim was not about to let that minor setback keep him from enjoying his first Halloween ever! He decided that he should stay behind and pass out candy while Nebby, Ann, and the rest go out to enjoy the festival downtown. After all, there was always next year. Before leaving, Nebby had set up the sofa to make it so Tim was comfortable and provided a waste basket in case he needed quick access. She’d just about finished adjusting the tiara and pencil on her costume, the others had already arrived; Ann was dressed as a ragdoll- a character named Sally, Una invited herself dressed in a spider web poncho and her hair done up in a high ponytail, Winston and Willow dressed in red jumpers with the tags, “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” on them with the tips of their hair dyed with temporary blue hair dye, and Sodreco…Sodreco was a unicorn. It took all within Tim’s power to not start laughing when he first saw it, and a good thing too, his stomach was currently in agony. “Remind me what you’re supposed to be again.” Winston looked up and down at Nebby, who posed heroically and declared, “Wonder Ramsay! I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be Wonder Woman or Gordon Ramsay, and Tim said if I liked both, then I could be both!”

Willow giggled, “It looks strangely enough, very fitting on you! If I were a judge at the costume contest, I’d give you points for originality and creativity!” “Yeah well, if only I had a whip and a whole slew of TV shows to complete the look.” Nebby shrugged, “That would’ve been perfect.”

Winston seated himself next to Tim, who decided to rest his head on his shoulder. In response, Winston wrapped an arm around his sweetheart, “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay here and keep you company? I feel bad leaving my sweetheart alone on Halloween night.” “Its fine,” Tim smiled weakly, “I doubt there’d be a lot of ginger ale at the festival, plus, I don’t think I can keep myself standing up for more than a few minutes. And who else is going to hand out candy to those trick-or-treaters?” “Oy, Tim! You know what to give to the adults with crappy costumes, right?” Nebby called. “Ms. Nebula, I’m not handing out three year old M&M’s and bubblegum.” The archer frowned. “It was worth a shot.” She shrugged once again. Winston laughed, then gave Tim a quick peck on the lips, “Alright, I trust you. There’s always next year, I guess.” Ann joined in, “We can pick up candy for you, if you’d like.” Tim sat up, “Ooh! Yes, plenty of peanut butter cups and chocolate!” Sodreco smiled, going over to ruffle his student’s head, “You can only have them when you’re feeling better.” To which Tim pouted playfully.

Nebby, who had broken off from the group earlier, had just returned, “Alright, all doors and windows are locked, curtains are drawn, I’ve signed into Netflix, and there’s chicken soup and ginger ale ready for you on the counter.” “Thank you for your kindness.” Tim smiled warmly, “Though, if I may ask, why latch up the whole house?” “To prevent any drunken morons from breaking in; happened to me last year and it was a bitch getting all those frat boys out of my basement.” Nebby cringed, “I still remember the togas.”

Willow felt a tug on her onesie; she turned to see it was Una, whom after getting her attention pointed to the time shown on her lock screen. She concluded, “And speaking of drunks, I think we’d better get going, they’ll start coming in around 8.” “Ah fuck, you’re right.” Nebby grabbed her keys, “We’ll be back soon. Call us if there’s an emergency or if Zarok’s at the door, call Zeal.” “Have a good time.” Tim waved as she exited the house. Winston bade him goodbye by giving him another kiss, “Happy Halloween, my sweetheart, get well soon.” “And to you too, have fun, love.” He watched as he and the others left. Once they were all gone and the front door locked with a satisfying click, Tim lied back down…until he felt lightheaded. Thank god he was alone.

The first wave of trick or treaters came at least ten minutes after the group had left, and for a minute, Tim thought there wouldn’t be enough candy to last him the night. But thankfully he’d located the piles upon piles of extra candy, so all worries were set aside. This neighborhood housed a lot of kids, and he wasn’t exaggerating, there was a lot! Tim got up- on average, of 6 times every ten minutes to hand out candy. Though it may sound like an annoyance, it really wasn’t. Tim enjoyed handing out candy, and seeing them dressed in their costumes, whether store-bought or handmade made him happy. Heck, he just might be able to pull through! The last wave of trick-or-treaters came around 7:30 pm, ending with a little brunette boy dressed in the exact same costume as him. He ran through the decorations set up by Nebby on the front yard, and came to the door accompanied by his blonde mother. The boy held out his bag in excitement as Tim answered the door one final time. “Trick-or-treat!” the boy was grinning from ear to ear. Tim handed him a generous portion of candy, dropping them into the child’s bag. He swore he saw those eyes light up like stars as he looked at his mother, “Momma! Look! He’s dressed like me!” “I see that, my little warrior,” She giggled, “Now what do we say?” To which the child nodded and chirps, “Thank you, Happy Halloween!” “And to you too, have a good evening! Be safe out there!” Tim laughed as he watched the pair exit the premises. As he closed the door and locked it, he couldn’t help but feel that those two reminded him too much of his own mother and himself when he was a child. Fond memories they were, being an energetic youth yet at the same time oddly shy, the only bounds being his own imagination, which seemed almost endless. Maybe, if he’d been born another time, Tim would’ve been able to have unique memories like Trick-or-Treating. But it wasn’t like he could pick and choose when and where his life would take place.

His thoughts were interrupted by another pang of pain in his stomach, a sign that he’d been standing for too long and needed to lie down, he groaned and sulked back to the living room to lie down. Tim reached for the remote and hit the play button, continuing a movie he’d decided to watch on Netflix. The movie was called, “Halloween”, and it was about a masked serial killer that struck only on Halloween. Simple plot, but hey, it didn’t need anything grand for it to be good. According to Nebby- who recommended it, said it had a low budget but still managed to scare audiences across the country!

   As the movie progressed, right as the killer was about to stab another victim to death, Tim jumped to the sound of the landline going off. Strange, he hadn’t heard that thing go off in weeks. Nebby made it abundantly clear to all telemarketers that she was not interested and to remove her from the call-list. She also had a rule about the landline, to which Tim quoted under his breath, “If it’s important, they’ll call again or leave a message.” And just as he’d predicted, after the first ring, the phone went off again. Ah, so it was important. Tim carefully got up, “Just a minute…!” Thankfully, he’d reached the phone, which was in the hallway; he picked it up and answered with a “hello”. He expected it to be either one of his friends calling to check up on him, but was instead met with heavy breathing. Now this was unusual.

Confused, Tim repeated, “Hello?” But all he could hear was heavy breathing.

This had to be Nebby calling; she was probably already drunk and butt-dialing the house. He rolled his eyes as he hung up, but before he could return to his seat, the phone rang again. Okay, this couldn’t be a butt-dial. But Tim didn’t want to answer it; he wanted to hear the voicemail. He got what he asked for, and what did this oh-so elusive voicemail consist of? If your guess was heavy breathing, then you’d be correct. This was definitely no coincidence, and Tim was now mildly annoyed. Those kids and their prank calls, ha! Tim decided that it’d be best to ignore the calls and let them go straight to voicemail. And while he felt like he’d made the right decision, he couldn’t feel as if something were off.

               Two hours passed, and the calls had slowly become more frequent, and now Tim was annoyed. He couldn’t even enjoy the movie or even take a nap! Just how persistent were these kids anyhow? “That’s it, if these kids call one more time, I’m going to scream!” He grumbled. And what happened next? The phone rang. Tim growled, “That’s it!” with all the strength he could muster, he stomped over to the phone and as soon as the heavy breathing started, he let loose the angriest, most irritated scream he could conjure up. “There, see how you like having your ears bleed!” and he slammed the phone back into the receiver. He slumped back into his seat, just in time to receive a facetime call from Nebby. He answered, revealing his friend at the bar. He smiled, “Oh, Ms. Nebula! Hello!” Seeing her face calmed him down, it almost made him forget about those obnoxious calls. “Hey Tim, how’re you holding up?” She frowned, “You don’t look so good.”

“Ah, I’m a little irritated right now.” “Ah shit, is Netflix not working?” “Netflix is fine, it’s these phone calls I kept receiving.” “Are stupid kids calling the house phone?” “Yes, and they’ve been at it for two hours, I fear I’m getting more weary just thinking about it!” “Two hours? That seems a bit too dedicated if you ask me, are you sure it’s kids?” “Considering I just screamed into the speaker, I hope it is. Maybe they’ll learn their lesson.” “Oh yeah, you’re going to get a lot of those calls on Halloween, don’t worry.” “Oh! How was the festival?” “Wild, taking a break though, your boyfriend’s got the munchies and I need a drink!” “Just not too much, you have work in the morning.” “I know, I know. Okay, looks like everything’s all good here, I’ll let you go.” “Thank you, I’ll see you soon!”

Just as he hung up, lo and behold, the house phone rang once again. Tim was appalled, just how dedicated were these kids? He groaned, getting up to answer the phone, “Okay, I don’t think I’ve made myself clear; Stop. Calling. The house! What’s wrong with you? I’ve been sick like a dog all day, all I ask is for a nice night to watch movies and recover. I can’t get any of that done when you’re calling me every five seconds! If you call again, I will alert the authorities!” He was about to hang up when he heard a gruff, distorted voice, “Don’t forget to turn off the stove.” Turn off the stove? He turned his head to peak into the kitchen, and wouldn’t you know it, the stove was on. Bewildered, he set the phone to the side, and then crept over to the stove to turn it off. How did he know about the stove? And besides, the stove was already off when Nebby and the others left. These were no kids he was dealing with, but a lonely man stalking him.

Great, now he was the teenage girl home alone, just like in those horror movies!

And Tim couldn’t be more irritated. So much for a good first Halloween, it was bad enough already he was sick! He’d forgotten to hang up, as the voice then asked, “Do you like clowns, Tim? I bet you like clowns.” No, he didn’t. He didn’t like clowns, but he wasn’t about to tell this stranger that. He placed the phone back onto the receiver after hanging up yet again, now feeling slightly uncomfortable. “How did he know my name…?” Tim’s eyes widened slightly. But then his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, wait a second…He grabbed the phone and dialed the number. Zarok’s croaky voice answered, “What do you want, Andrews?” “Zarok, I know it was you calling me! Do you have any idea what time it is?” He placed a hand on his hip.

“I was, but then you screamed into my ears, you worm!” “Good, I hope I ruined your ears, now will you stop calling me?” “I did, I did stop calling you!” “Then why did you ask me if I liked clowns? I hate clowns!” It was silent on the other end, and Zarok answered in a confused tone, “You hate clowns?” “Yes! You asked me if I liked them! And before that, you told me the stove was on! Don’t tell me you broke into the house again!” It was silent again. Tim huffed, “If I look out the living room window right now, and I see you standing there, I will get Ms. Nebula’s handgun and put a bullet somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine!” He walked towards the window, pulling back the curtains to see what was in the front yard. Standing underneath a lamppost was a figure dressed in a clown suit, mask and all. It even had a phone held up to its ear. Tim grinned in triumph, getting his other phone to take a picture, “Aha! Now I’ve got you! I see you there, trying to scare me, well let’s see how you like it when squad cars are congesting your driveway!”

He then heard another voice on the line, a bit of bickering in the background and eventually, Zeal’s voice was on the line, “Hello? Timothy, is that you?” Wait. Zeal’s talking to him. There was only one person outside. “Y-Yes, yes it’s me.” He trembled.

“Timothy, it’s midnight, I’d hate to be rude, but you really shouldn’t be calling at this hour.” “O-Oh, yes, I-I understand. I’m sorry, but he’s been calling me repeatedly and…” “I see, I’m sorry about that, and Nebula told me you were sick, you poor man.” “Yes, I am. Don’t worry, I’m recovering.” “That’s good! My brother said you were about to call the police?” “N-No, I’m sorry, I think there’s someone else responsible for the calls.” “Calling you after 8 pm? Oh no, I believe you’re mistaken, Zarok is asleep at that hour. Is everything alright over there?” “Do you want my honest opinion? No. There’s a weirdo in a clown suit standing outside the house, and now…I’m afraid.” Tim looked away from the window, the curtain drawing back. Okay, okay, so there was a man stalking him, likely another if the stove was on. Zeal was beginning to sound uncomfortable, “Timothy, Timothy if you’re in danger, get out of the house! I’m going to call Nebula right now!” Tim looked at the curtain, and as tempting as it was to leave them alone and leave, he had to see if the clown was within close range of the yard. When he did, Tim was relieved to find that the clown was gone. He sighed in relief, “No, no, its fine now, the clown is gone. Besides, I know how to-“but as he turned around, he then came face to face with a rubber clown mask.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like clowns?”

Tim let out the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever made in his life, dropping the house phone.

   Police units arrived at the Donk residence within twenty minutes after Zeal tipped off police officers and explained that a home invasion was in progress. Nebby and the others arrived later than that thanks to traffic, and were alarmed to see cars parked out in the driveway. Winston and Sodreco burst out from the backseat when they saw a masked intruder being led out in handcuffs, covered in blood. Assuming the worst, they entered to find Tim, alive and well, lying on the sofa covered in blankets giving a statement to the police. “- I’d assumed it was a prank, but when they addressed me by name I knew it was no prank.” He concluded. “Timothy!” Winston hurried over to embrace him, “Timothy, what happened?”

“Your boyfriend managed to beat up and perform a citizen’s arrest on an escaped criminal.” The officer informed him, “From the looks of it, he threw the suspect out that window,” he pointed to a shattered window, both heard Nebby outside screeching, “OH MY-! FUCK me with my own FIST! He broke my fucking window!”

“Subject wasn’t able to speak due to a brutal punch or kick to the throat, and well, let’s just say he beat him to a pulp and call it a night.” The officer chuckled, “We’ll still be collecting evidence, however.”

Winston blinked, then looked at Tim, “Sweetheart, you did all that?”

“What? I hate clowns.

#Donk and Sparrow #((had to post here since DeviantArt says the file was too big))

[csufofficial]

Most Magical Day at Universal Studios Hollywood

So you’ve already attended CSUF’s Disney Night and had a great time with your fellow Titan’s. Now you want to go beyond that and visit more amusement parks. Next stop, Universal Studios Hollywood. Luckily enough for you, CSUF sells discounted passes and tickets to popular attractions including this one! Seasonal passes are available for only $109 which are good through December 13, 2018 if you follow this link: USHTIX.COM/CSUF. This park has a very similar setup as Disneyland with City Walk being very comparable to Downtown Disney. City Walk contains many restaurants and stores which include; Mini Monster, Francesca’s, Bubba Gump Shrimp Co., Abercrombie and Fitch and of course plenty of stops to purchase Universal Studios merchandise. Whether you’re learning about movie magic on the studio tour, going on a wild ride with the Simpsons or soaring over the Hogwarts grounds on Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey you will definitely have a magical day, especially after reading these tips and tricks to navigating the fun filled land. 

What to Bring

In case you missed our Disneyland Tumblr post with a list of what to bring to an amusement park with you here it is again with a few small changes for this park:

A small back pack is always the best option when visiting amusement parks of all kinds because it’s hands free and can hold everything you will need for the day. Did you know you can purchase some at the Titan shops to show off some Titan pride wherever your adventures lead you!

Water is a must. Bring a re-useable bottle (there are some available for purchase in the Titan shops as low as $5.99) since there are plenty of drinking fountains throughout the park where you can stop and fill up.

Lip balm, it seems small but it will seriously put a damper on your day if you forget this.

Snacks, lots of snacks. Want to save some money? Bring your own food for at least part of the day. You might not think you’ll get hungry but there are so many temptations, from themed food near the Simpson’s to the Great Feast in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. For the time being you’re allowed to bring your own food into the park as long as it is small and not a full meal purchased elsewhere, so definitely do this to avoid over spending. Heading to this LA park after being on campus? Langsdorf Hall and the Titan Shops have plenty of on-the-go snacks. The Nutwood Cafe located in College Park is a great place to stop before leaving campus with inexpensive meals as well.

Phone charger. External batteries are super affordable so grab one before you take off (the Titan shops have some available for purchase incase you didn't already check out the list on our Tumblr about the products available to you on campus) because Universal will definitely make your battery drain quickly when you’re busy snapping and taking photos. Did you know that Universal Studios just released new geo-filters for snapchat? You’ll definitely want to check those out while you're on the Universal property.

A small CSUF sweatshirt or jacket is important to fit in your backpack or tie around your waist if you have the room for it. Universal Studios isn’t very cold during the day because of the buildings blocking the wind but it does get cold at night and on the studio tour. 

Themed Food

1. Butterbeer! This is a non-alcoholic cream soda type drink that can be enjoyed frozen as a slushy, cold or hot. JK Rowling came up with the sweet drink for Harry Potter and his friends to enjoy when they were visiting Hogsmeade and now you can too! There are 2 carts located in Hogsmeade (one near the entrance to the land and one in the back located near Hogwarts) where the frozen and cold options are available. Inside of the Hog’s Head pub is where you’ll be able to find the hot version (along with pumpkin juice from the Harry Potter series, don’t worry, it’s not actually juice from a pumpkin). 

2. The Big Pink! Ever wanted to enjoy Homer Simpson’s pink donut from the popular tv show; The Simpson’s? Well here’s your chance! It’s an inexpensive treat for 4+ people to enjoy or to take home if you and your friends can’t finish it.

3. Treats from Honeyduke’s are always a big hit because there are so many options available from chocolate frogs to Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans to chocolate of all sorts. This is a store located just inside of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter on the left where even non-Potter lovers will be able to enjoy themselves. 

4. The Great Feast is available in the Three Broomsticks and will feed up to 4 people. If you have a group of more than 4 a small charge can be added to increase the roasted chicken, BBQ ribs, salad, corn on the cob and other assorted roasted veggies that are included in this meal. This is a great place to go if you’re looking to get high quality food for great value!

5. Krusty Burger features some classic Simpson’s foods such as The Krusty Burger, The Clogger and Sideshow Bob’s combo. They all come with French fries on the side too! 

6. Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. from the popular movie, Forrest Gump, is located in Universal City walk and has seafood as well as non seafood options. This is a sit down restaurant full of things to look at and buy while munching on some tasty options such as Mama Blue’s Southern Charmed Fried Shrimp or some fried chicken!

Picture Spots

1. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is definitely not a photo op you want to miss! With its looming turrets and whimsical lighting at night this will be a great memory for muggles and magic folk alike. Tuffy even got in on the action!

2. Krustyland has plenty of bright backgrounds perfect for all ages to snap a picture in front of. It has a carnival type atmosphere at night with its bright lights and games.

3. Jurassic Park in the lower lot boasts a large ride entrance perfect for capturing memories from a time before ours. 

4. If you want to remember the studio tour without having to take photos while you're on a tram, the entrance is a great place for this!

5. The Toad Choir and Triwizard performers are always around after their performances to take photos with the audience in Hogsmeade Village.

6. The Hogwarts Express is on the right when you enter Hogsmeade which is quite a sight to see. During most of the time there is a conductor outside who will hold a small conversation with you before posing for a photo.

What to do during your visit!

1. There are always shows happening throughout the day in the park. These shows range from special effects to animal actors to musical performances in Hogsmeade Village (Water World is also always a treat when it is in operation during the warmer months).

2. The studio tour is an amazing opportunity to go behind the scenes on the back lot of Universal Studios to see where popular tv shows like “The Voice” and “The Good Place” are filmed. You also have the opportunity to see popular movie sets such as “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and  “War of the Worlds”. While there are many sets you will travel through there are also 5 interactive portions of the tour, some of which even utilize 3D special effects. No tour is exactly the same because different parts of the back lot are open on separate days depending on the filming schedules so you will never have the exact same tour twice. 

3. There are plenty of rides for thrill seekers and non thrill seekers alike! From Minions to the Mummy roller coaster there are rides for everyone.

4. If you aren’t a ride person there is plenty of shopping to do within the park and in City Walk! As mentioned in the beginning there are stores that sell merchandise from all of your favorite shows and movies in addition to regular clothing and jewelry as well.  

5. Characters like Scooby-Doo and his gang, classic monsters, Doc from “Back to the Future”, SpongeBob and the train conductor from the Hogwarts express are only some of the beloved stars that will interact with you.

Thank you for reading this post! Hopefully, it helps you when you plan your trip to this magical amusement park!

[a-mnhia]

thinking about her ( mina )

#†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #me 🤝 mina: always crying about something #i love her and i think #all of you should know it

[a-mnhia]

someone needs to lock mina in her room so she’ll stop getting herself involved with people and things that are way above her pay grade.

#vampire counts and fae kings and fucking winter #i would say she does not get paid #enough for this but she #literally does this to herself #guys there is no one else to blame #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again.

[a-mnhia]

like i don’t think anyone understands

#she is my everything #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #i am anna and i approve this message

[a-mnhia]

mina as a vampire?   chills

#†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #the way she leaves jonathan because she doesn't want to watch him die #and can't bare to turn him #and then sulks around the americas for a good hundred years #before coming back to the england #surviving off of family money #and the eventual success of her #published work of fiction #depicting her and the crew of lights lived experience #all while trying to avoid every #other vampire on the planet because she just #doesn't want to be one #and therefore doesn't want to interact with anyone #plus the pulsating hum from the underground of dracula's return #has her a little on edge??? #amazing stunning brilliant show stopping never been done before

[a-mnhia]

i know i say this every day but i love mina so fucking much

#the light of all lights #literally so fucking amazing #could not highly recommend enough #also a tasty snack if you are a vampire #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #i really don't think i have #ever loved someone i've written as much as i love mina

[a-mnhia]

icb jon.athan harker really said that if mina became a vampire,   he would also become a vampire

#true love folks? #i think yes #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again.

[a-mnhia]

i am here for the rest of the day!   i am going to be working on my doc / q’ing replies / working on graphics and hc posts,   so for the most part i’ll be off the dash   . . .   but if you want to chat or plot,   come find me on disc.ord.

#and if you need my handle #shoot me a im!! #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again.

[a-mnhia]

a wild card appears

#i am currently working on my blog rules #so those are not up yet #but information regarding mina's current arc is live #my goal is to move blogs this weekened #and finish getting everything set up #there is information that is lacking on the arc page (mainly backstory) #this will be developed in a separate page #giving details up until where ever i am with her #story / character developement #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #if you are interested with plotting / interacting in the future #i would highly encourage you to give it a read!!

[a-mnhia]

when are people going to stop asking m.ina where dra.cula is???

#mina trying to live her best drama free life: #everyone else: d.RacuLA???? #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #i'm looking at you belm.ont and s.ypha #and also van he.lsing he is the og

[a-mnhia]

"what a lovely invitation, my dear," verona tilts her head to allow full access, "don't mind if i do."

excuse me.      mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy, sorry. mommy.

#vampyrra #†. OUT OF [ . . . ] the discount scooby gang is at it again. #i would have written a coherent response #expect mina has nothing coherent to say