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#And maybe some of my moots or friends are in the same boat so maybe? Idk
spacebuck · 8 months
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genuine and srs post do any of my moots play and would be open to talking abt either g/enshin or s/tar rail because I'm going actually insane lmao
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silvanoir · 8 months
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people who tear plants together
I know it's not fair of me, I know, I know, because work friend's life has been and is so much worse than mine, but I couldn't help but talk to him after work about my problems because I have no one else to listen who actually CARES. I can tell other people but they don't care. Maybe because we both have anxiety and so can relate even though it manifests differently in each of us, most of the time...
But as I was talking outside the work building I was nervously picking the weeds and tearing them into shreds. This is a bad habit of mine I've had since a kid. After some time.... he starts doing it too (not a thing I've seen him do before).
Oh no, not only have I dumped my problems on him when he has enough problems but I've also given him a new bad habit. At least it's a harmless one.
He also ended up saying things to me that I was going to say to him at some time in my many efforts to try to make his life better. "Cheer up buttercup" and "At least you have me in your corner now" like.... literally I was going to say those exact things other days.
Mannnnnnn.... we are on such the same wavelength, why couldn't we have met sooner in life, not now middle-aged and falling apart. Why didn't I start talking to him (in depth, get to know him) way back when he first started working in my building 10 years ago (ok I had some reasons why, mostly that I thought he was a party guy who would want nothing to do with someone like me, but wish I knew then what I know now).
Or if we had bumped into eachother and started talking in Borders, when we both hung out there unaware of eachothers existence, in the early 2000s
.... no I can't think about that one because of what he said about that.... that thing that's been ping-ponging in my brain since... That thing that's such a moot point because everything after that up to and including the present and immediate future means it could've only been THEN... our bookstore AU, I guess. The one where we meet and help eachother avoid the worst in our lives.
....
to end it on a better note, (AU made me think of this) last week he was wearing a shirt with the company logo. Only it wasn't the company letters. Instead it was OTP. with "Shipping anywhere, anytime" underneath it. And.... he had NO IDEA what that meant. He thought OTP somehow meant security? And shipping was the normal world kind of shipping, shipping boxes. I had to explain it to him, much to my amusement. As I was he asked things like "Is it a literary term?" lol not quite "I'm going to look that up in the library" good luck my dude! The best way I found to describe it to him was "One's favorite fictional couple, one you rooted for them to get together like people root for sports teams". Then I asked him who his OTP was and at first he said "Romeo & Juliet... wait no, that's not fictional that's a true story" my guy... "Mork & Mindy?" you and your re-runs "Bones?" "Bones???" he clarified he meant the main couple from the show Bones, but I never watched that show, "I got it, Thelma & Louise, I like the part when they drove off the cliff" sure sure, whatever floats your boat.
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book-of-baba-fett · 2 years
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Firstly, thanks so much for posing the question regarding what will make someone skip/pass on a fic/series. It’s been really interesting to read what detracts some people from picking up a particular fic, and it’s pretty easy to flesh out some common reasons a fic gets skipped.
If I may, I’d like to ask for your perspective on something.
So, I adore this community with all my heart. It’s gotten me through some really challenging periods in the last year or so and I can’t say enough about how wonderful the writers are that I’ve gotten to know and can call friends. But here’s my challenge…
As much as I want to read everything that everyone of my moots writes and posts, 1. I just don’t have that amount of free time in the day and 2. We don’t all drink the same cup of tea, so some pairings/fandoms (in the case of multi-fandom writers) don’t always float my boat, which I know is okay. Diversity is what makes these spaces so colorful and brilliant.
But, having been on Tumblr for barely a year (and being someone that ticks the age 30-45 box on the census), what’s the “proper” courtesy to support my fellow writers in situations where what they’ve written doesn’t float my boat? Is it better to do a quick reblog to help spread the story around, even though I might not have an intention to read it? Do I throw a like to show my support, which I know does nothing to help with exposure, but I’m showing some love? Like, I don’t want to lie and say “Oh, this was good!” If I didn’t read it, but not taking any action to support my friends feels wrong at the same time, ya’ know?
Like, I read when I can, and always try to leave a meaningful reblog because I know how good it feels to see that in your notifications, but on the flip side, if I reblog without reading, and therefore not leaving any sort of response, is that discourteous? And sometimes it can take me weeks or months to get the chance to read an installment on a series.
If you want to answer this, I know you’ll only be speaking for yourself, but you’re someone who’s been on Tumblr longer than I, so I’m looking to someone of greater experience on the platform to at least give some guidance as to these situations. And if you just don’t want to go there at all, I totally get that too because there’s no “official rulebook” of Tumblr interaction. There just seems to be this unspoken set of social expectations I’m completely ignorant of.
Anyway, that’s me rambling like a fool of a Took. Thanks darling!!! ILY!
Thanks; yeah it was just a random thought that crossed my brain earlier out of plain curiosity, and I want to thank everyone who sent something in cause it was very interesting to look into!
And, darling, trust me I GET how you’re feeling with wanting to read and support as much as physically possible but not having the time. That’s me all the time as I juggle my own writing, my full time job, and the horrors known as dating in the greater Los Angeles area.
Having friends who post things that aren’t your particular interest is something I think a lot of people here struggle with! I’ve met so many wonderful people here, and it is inevitable that I become friends with someone who maybe posts a lot for a certain character that I’m just not interested in reading. And I think it’s important for all writers to ground themselves and realize that happens. It doesn’t mean the writing is bad, the premise just doesn’t do it for someone!
Now, if you really want to show your support but it’s something you don’t want to read, I would recommend reblogging but maybe putting something in the tags like “boost” or “sharing” just to share it, because that might help it get in the path of someone who would be interested! Sometimes a like is still kind just to show a friend “hey I see this!” Most likely if it’s a mutual you talk to, they might know that it isn’t really your thing. And if maybe it’s the case where you would want to read it, you just don’t have the time to in that moment, that’s where likes are handy or maybe you reblog with a “read later” tag! You asking what you can do to support already shows me that you’re a wonderful, and kind friend here though, so even just wanting to support us great!
And tumblr is kinda a strange website to navigate, but the key reminder is it’s a sharing space! We all have so many niche interests and no one is exactly alike. Hope I helped with this!
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writesowhatnext · 4 years
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definitely just a coincidence // remus lupin
Summary: sometimes everything in life just… comes together – helps if you have a Sirius though
Request: Hi, how are you doing? Could you please write a soulmate au for Remus where soulmates have a birthmark where they’re first touched by them and the reader has a mark on her wrist? And one day Remus and the reader happen to sit next to each other at a quidditch game they're having fun talking when James does something risky and Remus grasps the reader's wrist? I'm sorry if that was too specific! Thank you!
A/N: I have no idea why this was so difficult to write but I hope you like it! It also took everything I had not to use the word coinkydink
Reader: unspecified
Warnings: swearing bc I’m incapable
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The universe, without question, works in mysterious ways. Any third-rate fortune teller, rocket scientist or six-year-old can tell you that. Some things are just meant to be: the sun move from East to West, Sirius Black is the world’s biggest drama queen and every single person has a soulmate.
It would definitely be a lie to say that you’d never questioned the legitimacy or inevitability of soulmates. It just seemed strange that there was this perfect person out there for you, but every time you looked at your wrist, you were reminded that it must be true.
Though soulmates are still pretty much a mystery to both the muggle and the wizarding world, the working theory is that in a past life, wherever on your bare skin your soulmate last touched left a mark, a birthmark, where they were destined to first touch you in this life.
Your mum always told you to cover the mark on your wrist; it was in such a common place and you had to be careful so you would know for sure who your soulmate was. Most people tended to parade theirs around, though, and some even took to covering every inch of their body to avoid the situation entirely. There’d been stories, though, of massive coincidences and unimaginable luck uniting soulmates and as you looked down at your wrist, vaguely aware that you would be late for the Quidditch match if you didn’t hurry up, you thought about who yours would be. Someone smart, perhaps? Funny, maybe? You hoped more than anything that they’d be kind. It was odd to think, regardless, that the universe would try so hard to get you together.
Absentmindedly, you rubbed at the thick mark on your wrist, the colour a stark contrast to your skin. The wide band reached around your wrist and almost connected at your palm and anyone with half a brain cell could see it was a perfect shadow of someone’s grasp. You frowned, briefly glancing at the time.
“Oh fuck,” you muttered, quickly grabbing your scrunchie and making for the door. Every day, without fail, you’d worn that scrunchie on your wrist, covering your mark and not once had it failed you. Today, though, was different from every other day. Whether you knew it or not, this day would be very different indeed because the universe, in all its ineffably annoying glory, decided it had a job to do.
As you rushed through the corridors, desperate not to miss the last quidditch match of the season, you were glad to see many other people in the same boat, winding around the corridors to the pitch. You were so eager that you didn’t even notice Lily coming around the next corner and, before you knew it, you had slammed into her, sending each of you back a few feet, onto your arses. You blinked, a little disorientated as you tried to focus on her.
“Blimey,” you said, using one hand to push yourself up as the other rubbed your head. “I did not expect that.”
“Y/N!” Her face lit up as she realised it was you, taking your outstretched hand gratefully. “Just the person I was after.”
“Why? Did you want to be human bumper cars today?”
She laughed, shaking her head and clutching the book she had dropped to her side under her arm.
“I can’t go to the match today – head girl bollocks, you know how it is-“
“Sure I do,” you said, sarcasm leaking through your tone. She rolled her eyes in response, side-stepping a Hufflepuff racing past her. You suddenly remembered why you’d been running in the first place, your happiness at seeing your friend replaced with a familiar urgency.
“Can you tell Remus for me? He said he’d save me a seat – he’ll be next to Sirius…”
You barely heard what else she said, your feet already talking you towards the pitch.
“Sure, Lils!”
You thought about Sirius as you hurried towards the Gryffindor stand, relieved to see that the players weren’t even on the pitch yet. You and Sirius had been friends since second year when he nearly set your hair on fire in Charms. He’d been apologetic, of course, but his expression soon turned mischievous when you’d shot a spark at him, singeing the hairs of his forearm. From then on, you’d been as thick as thieves. It helped he had friends that were happy to accept you and who tended to find your jokes, however unfunny, hysterical. Sometimes you wished you weren’t as close, though. He could read you like an open book and he constantly teased you about your crush on Remus. He’d never shut up about it when you were alone and when you weren’t, he’d send you annoying glances and make lewd gestures. And for that, and many other things, you hated him about as much as you could hate someone so loveable.
You spotted the two of them around a dozen rows up, Sirius already shouting though the match hadn’t even begun to start. You rolled your eyes at him before you let them wander to Remus, who was sitting rather patiently next to him. In all honesty, it wasn’t that you didn’t have a crush on Remus, you just hated it when Sirius was right. And, it wasn’t like it would go anywhere: he never gave any indication that he liked you and you both had soulmates – it was a moot point. As you walked closer, slipping between some unruly Gryffindors on the way, you had to admire Remus. He was very handsome and the sight of him staring up at Sirius with fond exasperation made you smile, a warmth in your chest. It reminded you of when you’d first met.
“Oi, Y/N,” Sirius had shouted from the breakfast table when he saw you walk into the Great Hall. You rolled your eyes and wandered over, standing behind him.
“And what do you want?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
“Can’t I just want to see my friend without ulterior motives?”
If you had known him less well, you would’ve been fooled by his puppy dog eyes.
“No, you always have ulterior motives. That’s your defining feature.”
“I thought my hair was my defining feature? Or my exquisitely handsome face? Remus,” he turned towards the boy opposite at the table, who had been watching you both with amusement. “What’s my defining feature?”
“Your modesty.”
You snorted at the way Sirius’ face soured completely.
“Brilliant,” you said, offering Remus your hand. “I’m Y/N: unfortunate Charms partner and reluctant friend.”
He smiled back and something stirred inside you at the way his grin pulled at his features handsomely, the scars littered across his cheeks shining delicately in the light. His expression dropped though, a sweet blush flushing his face, as he lifted his hand. His eyes were almost apologetic as you noticed the stark white bandages wrapped around his fingers all the way up his arm. You shrugged nonchalantly and his lovely smile returned.
“Remus: also, reluctant friend and even more reluctant roommate.”
You beamed at his response, enjoying it when he mirrored your expression even though his shoulders were hunched shyly.
“Great, and now you’re friends,” Sirius sighed, mock annoyance riddling his features.
“Earth to Y/N,” a familiar voice shouted, breaking you from your reverie. You saw Sirius a couple rows away, shouting at you and waving his hands wildly. You made a face at him, gesturing for him to calm down. Remus was smiling at you softly as you approached, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was as pleased to see you as you were, undeniably, to see him.
“You alright there, Y/N? Didn’t realise Divination was on the quidditch bleachers today.” Sirius said with a smirk.
“Oh, shove off,” you tutted; rolling your eyes as you got closer, standing in the space they’d probably saved for Lily.
You stood next to Remus, ignoring Sirius’ wink as he went back to shouting about Quidditch and picking fights with the nearby houses.
“Ignore him,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “He’s been a prat all day because it’s the Slytherin game.”
You nodded, shooting Sirius a look almost identical to the one Remus had – he may have been an annoying bastard but he was, in fact, quite loveable.
“I ran into Lily in the corridor, literally actually,” you said, turning to face Remus, briefly distracted by the warm green of his eyes. “She said she can’t come – some head girl crap.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, looking around to see your friends, unable to spot them.
“You can watch with us,” Remus offered very quickly. He seemed to realise his rush as his cheeks heated up and he looked straight ahead, blinking. You had to laugh at his reaction.
“I’d love that.”
You sat down next to him, watching his face as he messed around with his coat to make more room for you. He looked rather cosy in his coat and gloves; his Gryffindor scarf tucked under his chin. Rather cute too.
“Has he been like that the whole time?” you asked, pointing at Sirius, who kept shoving his hair out of his face as he began jumping, the players finally out on the pitch.
“I wish,” Remus groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “A Ravenclaw prefect told him to shut up earlier and he almost flashed her.”
Though you felt for him, you couldn’t help your grin at Sirius’ antics.
“Y/N, love,” Sirius looked down at you, making grabby hands. “Can I borrow a hair bobble?”
You tore the scrunchie off your wrist, too distracted with Remus and the rush of recent events to think about it all that much, and passed it to him.
“Merlin, this is definitely my colour.”
You and Remus both tried to ignore Sirius throughout the game, but with the Slytherin team playing a little dirtier than usual, certain parts had all three of you up on your feet.
“Rem, give us your gloves,” Sirius insisted during the timeout, rubbing his hands together loudly. Looking at him, you noticed how inappropriately dressed for the weather he was in his t-shirt and jeans, perhapssomewhat unsurprisingly. Without argument, Remus passed over his gloves before turning to you. His deadpan expression made you laugh.
“He’s a liability,” he muttered, making you laugh harder. You fell into a comfortable silence before you remembered the proof you had that not every decision you made was as awful as making friends with Sirius. Remus watched you with fond eyes as you gasped and began rifling through your coat. When you pulled out half a bar of chocolate, though he didn’t think it possible, he liked you even more. It only got better when you offered him some. You noticed, when he grabbed the wrapper, the dark maroon-coloured birthmark on the palm of his hand and down his fingers, intersected occasionally with silvery scars. You didn’t have time to think more about it; the players already soaring back into the air.
James was testing your patience at this point. He’d made several very bad choices trying to stay on par with the Slytherin team without cheating. He kept making sharp turns and dramatic swoops with the quaffle and the whole stadium was holding its breath – even Sirius had shut up. You and Remus were both close to a heart attack with how many close calls James’d had. It wasn’t until he got hit by a stray bludger that you both stood up, Remus anxiously reaching out to grab your hand. He didn’t find your hand, though; his long, now icy cold, fingers circled your wrist, a perfect fit for your birthmark. You probably wouldn’t have noticed with all the action going on had a searing pain not shot up your arm. You hissed, as did Remus, and you both yanked your arms away sharply.
“What the-“ you began before your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Holy shit.”
Remus stared down at his hand and then back at you and then back at his hand countless times before he settled on you, his raised eyebrows lowering slightly as a smile crept onto his lips.
“It’s you,” he said breathlessly. His words reminded you of what going home felt like and as his smile grew, you felt yourself mirroring him, a warm feeling flooding through your system.
“I can’t say I’m disap-”
Cheers echoed through the crowd and you were interrupted by what you’d been, perhaps justifiably, distracted from. James, who had been dangling from his broom by one hand, pulled himself back up; an impressive move regardless of how awkwardly he did it. Even from far away, you could see how pleased with himself he was and despite yourself, you ended up mimicking Sirius with shouts and whistles. Remus wasn’t paying any attention, though. He just watched as you cheered for his friend, your mouth wide in a smile and your eyes lively and bright and for once in his life, he felt like everything would actually be alright.
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saharamae21 · 4 years
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All of My Wrongs - Prologue
This is more dialogue that I wanted.... But if I keep editing, I’m never going to post it.... I’m just not thrilled how it turned out, but it will be good. I PROMISE.
Let me know if you want to see this because I’m still on the fence if I want to post it on Tumblr or not..
Word Count: 1.3
Pairing: Topper x oc | Rafe x oc
Summary: Aurora Lansing is new to the OBX. She’s never stuck around in one place for long and has never made a lot of friends do to it. She is this free spirited and kind hearted person, but something dark lurks underneath the surface, making her kind of the opposite of the first two boys she meets. Topper is someone who can’t seem to let go. His uptight personality often masks the sweeter side of him. Rafe is filled with hatred most days, but something about Rory makes him softer. She’s the key to both of their better sides and they are the key dispersing the dark thoughts within her. As they all grow closer, jealousy and other ugly emotions begin to affect each one of them slowly. Rory wants to fix them both, but with all of the bad energy around the three she has to pick one of them. How can she choose who to fix without pushing the other over the edge of no return?
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We’ve never stayed in one place for long. My parents were the let’s save the world type of people and so whenever disaster struck, we booked a plane ticket. Tornado disaster relief, earthquakes, but this time, it was a hurricane. The Outer Banks, paradise on earth, or so the entrance sign said. This was my third city in four years. My mom promised me we would stay until I graduated this time. No more moving. I didn’t believe her though.
I let out a sigh as I helped unload the moving van. We always traveled light because we never knew how long we would be staying. This move felt different though. The house was huge and in the nicest part of town. We’ve never stayed in a place like this before. I walked in and looked around. There was a chandelier in the foyer and the staircase curved like those seen in mansions. I lived in a mansion. It wasn’t a secret that we had money. My parents spent time in the Peace Coup and that’s where they met. After that my dad continued working with other non-profit organizations while my mom became a very influential journalist, her work even being published for National Geographic. They saved and saved, eventually to spend on this. The house and car in the street, even the boat at the end of our dock. I couldn’t comprehend how much this would all cost.
Every move was the same as the last though, including this one. My parents would spend the entire first day playing interior decorator while my little brother and I explored the town. Skipper was the exact opposite of the rest of our family. He didn’t care about preserving our planet or saving the world. He cared about what he was doing and self advancement. I blamed it on him being the youngest and being spoiled.
Me, on the other hand… I was a carbon copy of my parents. I loved nature and all of the hippy vibes that they gave off. I just wished we didn’t have to move so much. No matter how much of a free spirit I was, I still needed one place to call home and I just haven’t found it yet.
“Aurora, I want to go home!” Skip complained. I rolled my eyes as I stood in the water. The waves lapped over my feet and I felt peaceful. I didn’t want to leave, but I knew he would just complain more. I tossed him the key to the house and told him that I’d be back later. I told him that he couldn’t let mom and dad lock the doors before I got home. He dismissed my words quickly and took off running. I knew he was going to lock me out of the house tonight…
Surely enough, the house was locked when I got back to my house that evening. The rain had just started and it wasn’t very heavy, but I would much rather be inside. I tried to hide on my porch, but the wind picked up and the rain stil pelted against my skin. I closed my eyes and imagined that it was water droplets from surfing or standing under a waterfall. A smile crept onto my face as I walked out into my driveway, spinning and cheering in the rain. The shower turned into a downpour and it washed my anxieties away.
“What are you doing?” a voice shouted. It was almost drowned out in the wind, but I heard it. I turned around to see my neighbor under an umbrella in the next driveway over. He looked about my age. He had this button up on and some board shorts, classic rich kid.
“I’m enjoying the rain!” I said as I ran closer to get a better look. He had dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. There was something about his eyes that I couldn’t stop looking at. Maybe it was how they looked sad. The eyes were the windows to the soul and I learned so much by looking into his. “Join me!”
He looked at me like I was crazy. I told him to drop the umbrella and live a little. I could tell by the way he carried himself that he didn’t let loose very often. He looked uptight and I could tell he needed this. He told me he was going to go inside now.
“I’m Aurora,” I said while he was turning his back on me. He turned back around and looked at me like I was a puzzle. He was trying to figure me out.
“I’m Topper,” he said. I laughed a little bit. I didn’t mean to, but who would name their kid that? I apologized as he scoffed and I knew that I was in for a challenge.
“Well, Bottom, you need to loosen up,” I said as I grabbed the umbrella from him slowly. He argued with me as water damped his hair. I told him to just feel the rain and tell me what he felt. He wasn’t very creative though. He told me he felt wet and cold.
“Listen, my name is Topper and I’ve had a really bad night. So, I’m going to go back into my house and act like this never happened,” he muttered. I frowned as he picked his umbrella back up. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but I knew he thought I was weird now.
“Can I borrow your umbrella?” I asked. Those were the only words that came into my head. A crash of thunder rippled through the air and I tensed. I knew if he could see me, the color would’ve been drained from my face.
“Why don’t you just go in and grab one?” he asked. I explained to him that I was locked out of my house and he sighed. “C’mon.”
I stared as he walked away from me. He told me to follow him once again and I ran over. He opened the front door and let me in. My jaw dropped a little bit at the extravagant decorations. He truly lived in luxury. He grabbed my wrist and quietly guided me upstairs. The warmth of his hand against my ice cold skin radiated through me. He pulled me into the bathroom and tossed me a towel. I smiled and dried off as he did the same. Even though he gave off a cold demeanour earlier, he seemed kind of sweet.
“So, what made your night so terrible?” I asked. He looked at me and asked why I cared. The coldness echoed through his words. He was building a wall between us. “I’m just curious.”
“It’s just my girlfriend,” he said. “She makes me feel so crazy sometimes.”
“She must be pretty special then. You know, to make you like that?” I said, smiling. His face lit up when he thought of her. It was the first real emotion he had shown me.
“Yeah she’s pretty great-” his words were interrupted by the door flying open.
“Dude! Tonight was awe-” a boy stood in front of me, staring. He also had this blonde hair that peaked out from underneath his white hat and these blue eyes. His eyes followed my figure. He watched the way my wet clothes clung to my body. I covered up with the towel feeling self conscious for a moment. “Who are you?”
“Rafe, this is Aurora. Aurora, this is Rafe,” Topper said, introducing us to each other. Rafe reached his hand out to shake mine, which was an awkward greeting in this situation. Still I took his hand and shook it firmly. His eyes never left mine after that point. A small smirk was always plastered onto his face and it gave me chills. I shivered from how low my body temperature had dropped from the rain. Topper ran to his room to grab me a sweatshirt, leaving Rafe here with me.
“So what’s your story?” he asked. Why did something tell me these boys were going to shape my entire existence in the OBX?
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Tagging some moots : @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @jiaraendgame @bricksatanakinswindow @outerbongs @kiarascarreras @ilovejjmaybank @lindzaylove @potterheadhollander @rudths @spilledtee @queenieloveswriting @multifandomlovess @starlightstarkey
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transdonaldduck · 5 years
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Uncle Scrooge says it’d be good for me to write this, a letter for you. He said it might help me start moving on, y’know? Cope with your disappearance. I don’t know, I don’t really see the point in writing a letter that will never be sent. I spent a lot of time sending you messages when you first left, and I never got a response or closure, so why does it matter now? But Uncle Scrooge insisted, so, here goes nothing.
Your kids have grown up a lot in the ten years you’ve been gone.
Dewey, you remember Dewford? He’s got just… the most energy. He’s definitely the rambunctious one of the group, always diving headfirst into danger, I wonder if he got that from you or me? He’s insisting that Uncle Scrooge let him lead a few adventures, but we can both agree that he’s not old enough for that. Or really he's not mature enough. Hueys gotten into Junior woodchucks more and more these past few years, he’s got his heart set on being a troupe leader when he’s older. He’s so organized that I think he’d be the best at wrangling a bunch of little kids, and he’s always had that sort of dad-instinct. He’s even taken care of me a few times, making breakfast, helping out around the houseboat… Louie’s grown up like a sprout- get it? Sprout? Because he wears all green? I know you didn’t laugh at that but maybe you smiled or rolled your eyes, which is enough. He’s got quite the silver tongue, he can talk his way out of practically any bad situation, and he’s mentioned learning a few new languages! I’m sure I could ask Panchito or Jose to come up and give him some basic lessons, and it’d be nice to see them again. It’s been awhile. I saw them after your disappearance. They stayed for a long time, and they grieved with me, but they had to go home eventurally. Life had to move on.
It’s cruel that it had to move on without you.
But i’ve been doing my best for you. I’ve been staying in the houseboat- you hung up all the best pictures of the kids, you know? keeping the cobwebs out and keeping it clean for if when you come back.
I hope you at least got to enjoy your cruise before whatever got you... got you.
I’m sorry we didn’t realize sooner. After that month was up I should have known something was wrong when you didn’t come home, but I kept coming up with excuses. I don’t know if I was afraid to see you or what, but I convinced myself everything was fine- and then we were so busy with Magicas return and Uncle Scrooge's stupid bet with Glomgold and the Moonlanders invasion that I. forgot about y
Sorry, I started crying and had to go take a break. You weren’t there for all of that, so it’s probably just a random string of words for you. Magica came back and threatened our lives with some new staff she hunted down, but it was cursed and it turned her hair blonde. She’s been in hiding ever since- hair dye doesn’t work on hexes it seems. Glomgold lost the bet, by the way. obviously. The moonlanders are a bunch of aliens I thought I befriended when I was stuck on the moon, but they turned out to be bad guys. This general Lunaris guy was so nice to me when we first met… but it was all a set up. He even  told me he threw my friend Penny in jail! She was so cool, you probably wouldn’t have liked her because you two are so similar. Me, Uncle Scrooge, the kids, and a lot of allies I dIdn’t even know we had stopped the invasion and sent those aliens packing back to the moon, never to return! We made sure of that by taking back the spear of selene plans. Now they’re stuck up there, which is fine by me… I trusted them and they tried to hurt me and my family. I know Penny tried to stop it, and maybe one day I’ll try and go up there and get her out of the jail if she’s still there, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.
I just need to find you first.
Once the dust settled, and once Duckburg started to rebuild, it really hit us that you were gone. Like, seriously missing gone. We called the cruise company but they didn’t keep track of whether or not you even got on the boat, which is stupid! They didn’t even have security cameras so we could see if you’d fallen overboard. It’s like you stepped outside of the manor and vanished into thin air. Once the media caught on it was a circus, they’ve got true crime documentaries on us both now… though half of mine are moot since I came back and obviously wasn't murdered. I can’t say the same for you. We’ve gone through Uncle Scrooge's list of enemies a thousand times, none of them know where you are, none of them took you, none of them hurt you. That's what they say, and their stories haven't changed.
We searched all along the ocean where the cruise sailed through, top and bottom. Fethry even had his mutant krill kid help on the search, but you weren’t there. Or we missed you. Gladstone looked for you too, and even he had no luck. You’re just gone. Or maybe the ocean took your body out to sea, too far for us to ever find you. Or maybe you fell overboard and bumped your head and got amnesia and now you’re living off the grid in some rural iceland village. I mean, it’s you, anything can happen. I hope you’re happy churning butter and listening to icelandic folk songs.
This is nearly two pages now, my patience is starting to run out. I can only sit still for so long, dewey got that from me. I know you’d read a thousand pages if I asked you too, and I know you’d enjoy it, because you missed me as much as I miss you, but you’ll never read this. So I’ll stop at two.
I keep talking about you in past tense. I’m sorry.
I miss you Donald, and I love you. We all do. -Della
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janiedean · 5 years
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I think Aegon VI is gonna fail big time though because even though Varys *thinks* he’s training a perfect prince- he’s never had to deal with real pressure or real problems. He’s sheltered as fuck.
anon anon anon, never mind that I don’t think aegon has a chance in hell to last as much as I wish he did, I think your point is very much moot for the following reasons that I’ll answer to seriously:
*varys* is not training anyone. varys has planned the thing and has been there working towards it for years, but jon connington is handling the kid, not him, and jon wants the best for him, he’s not raising him so he can rule through him;
‘he’s never had to deal with real problems’: man, he’s spent his entire life in exile, they might have had resources but he’s hardly that rich, he’s also spent his entire life in essos, and unless jonc hasn’t made him leave that boat ever (doubtful because he doesn’t show any signs of that) he would have seen a fair lot of shit, so like...... man, the literal only difference between him and daenerys in this sense is that dany comes from an abusive af household and that the person she’s spent more time with was viserys who’s hardly the most stable person in existence, aegon had one loving parental figure who for some kind of miracle has managed to not give him a shitload of trauma that you’d send him to four different therapists with. and for that matter before going to the wall jon had it so not sheltered that ***tyrion lannister*** of all people had to get him to check his privilege TM at the wall and explain him why all the lowborn people hated him/that he sounded like he thought he was better than all of them because as bad as he had it with cat, in comparison to all of them he was sheltered af same as the other stark kids, and while I don’t blame ned for that........ if jon and dany were *not* sheltered according to you, sorry to say but dany’s tenure in mereen hasn’t been the best ever and jon’s tenure at the wall ended with him being so good at PR he got murdered by 80% of the damned watch in a mutiny, this argument is realy not holding up;
also: anon, I swear, not coming with a shitload of trauma actually is a good point in your favor. like, there isn’t one single person in westeros rn who has had power who wasn’t somehow having a shitload of trauma worth four therapists, and if they didn’t have it they developed it during their tenure (see: robb). and it shows because all of them make mistakes that are tied directly to their unresolved traumas. and most of them hadn’t ruled anywhere before either. the fact that every single fault aegon might have is stuff that any hormonal sixteen year-old might have and grow out from rather than consequences of trauma/abuse/fucked up family situations - like at most he’s a bit entitled but lmao if that is the problem then he can go put himself in line since westeros is choke-full of entitled people - is actually a huge point in his favor because it means that there’s a way lower chance that being in power would get a toll on his mental health and he wouldn’t handle the pressure;
also, not counting the fact that he’s more well-learned than anyone who is giving it a shot, that he speaks also essosi languages so that would be extremely helpful with keeping contact over there, that he actually studied everything that he might need to personally supervise things and not needing to trust advisors who might want to backstab him which is in itself way more than anyone else with at shot at the throne has...... guys, not to be that person, but do y’all realize that the first sign of good parenting is actually raising a kid who will disagree with you and hold their ground if they think they’re right and who won’t blindly go for anything you might want? and as much as everyone in this fandom seems to think that aegon is there to get manipulated by everyone around him.... the first thing he does when he gets to westeros and jonc tells him to stay back when they take storm’s end is going like ‘nah I’ll lead the attack and that’s final’, and also he’s so privileged and sheltered that his kingsguard requirements are ‘they’re willing to die for me’ and that’s it, not that the people in it are nobles or high lords? like, jonc raised him so badly that not only he has no issues sharing his opinion and making it value and not giving a fuck that others might not want him to do it regardless of his position, but he also has even less prejudices than jon himself who was the one telling him that the kg should be reserved for highborns? do we assume this is the kind of person who the moment he’s in charge wouldn’t gaf about the smallfolk? or who would let the small council lead him around if he wasn’t sure of what they were proposing? also he listened to tyrion’s advice and took it into account and decided to go for it based on his own understanding and guess what, aegon and jonc were in adwd for what, four tyrion chapters or five maybe plus two of jonc’s and they accomplished in that time span more than anyone else has in the last two books put together when it comes to efficiency. like. the kid doesn’t fuck around and knows what he wants and how to get it, and the fact that he’s been trained for it by people who knew what was needed for that job shows.
like: sorry anon, but aegon vi targaryen as it is right now is literally the most qualified person for that job and the fact that he also is mentally ready to handle it because the person who raised him was so bad at it that he came up with the only literal teenager in westeros who has *normal* teenager issues and doesn’t need a therapist stat and who also has, differently from what 90% of this fandom thinks, a personality and who is not afraid to show it and to use his brain to take his own decisions even if it means disagreeing with the only parental figure he has/their plans for him......... sorry to say, but it’s the actual winning card here. not counting the fact that if you had an education for ruling a realm you’ll automatically have better premises than people who did not and have to figure it out from scratch with advisors who actually have no experience with that either (like all of dany’s entourage before tyrion gets there in the show, let’s not even discuss the books, doesn’t have one single person who has that kind of training, they’re from different fields that are not counseling rulers in political matters, and jon at the wall hardly has that never mind that he pushes away most people he’s friends with which is Not A Good Idea, and robb was trained to be a lord not a king, and it shows that the moment cat was out of the picture he fucked up 90% of his political decisions.. and robb is my favorite character guys but let’s be real X°D aegon has them instead).
now, I don’t think he’ll realistically last long enough on that throne to prove it, but if this is your argument against aegon’s targ restoration, sorry but I’m afraid it doesn’t really prove anything. and for that matter if we see ‘having had a crappy childhood/having come from an abusive situation/not being *sheltered*’ as basic requirements needed to rule then we’ve got a problem, because every single noble person in westeros is born sheltered and 90% of the time stays sheltered unless they’re not the kind of people who talk to the smallfolk/get involved or are stannis baratheon and don’t gaf about class background. like, everyone noble generally is. and at that point if the choice is in between someone who needs four therapists to cope with their shit before even attempting to go for it and someone who doesn’t I’ll grant you that the latter choice isn’t automatically the worst. ps: this comes from someone whose only top five character who wouldn’t need therapy is davos, and the other four together would need at least a soccer team of them to deal with all of their shit, so I’m not saying that people with trauma can’t rule - heck, I think jon did a fair good job of it and dany tried her best and robb did too and while he was hand tyrion did an even too good job of it, and others succeeded while handling it, but if you’re telling me that the reason aegon would fail is that he doesn’t have years worth of trauma to unpack at the therapist’s office sorry but if anything it’s a point in his favor. X°DDDD
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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years
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Daryl and Carol - S5 Template (Maybe)
As I said in an ask on Sunday, I want to talk more about this Daryl/Carol situation. Because we see them in the trailer a lot riding on his motorcycle together, many people have speculated that at the end of the season, they’ll basically ride off together into the sunset.
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Now, as far as I know that is just speculation. No one has any idea if this will actually going to happen or not. Maybe we’ll see them riding around on his motorcycle in the first episode and then there'll be nothing of the sort for the rest of the season. We simply don't know. 
But I had an epiphany over the last week that made me think about the possibility of them leaving the group together. Counter-intuitive though this may seem, them doing so might be a good thing for us. I think we have evidence that it would lead to them running into Beth. Let me explain.
First, let me reiterate one more time that even if they do take off together, it will be as a mother/son pairing not as a romantic one. Angela Kang recently did an interview where she pretty much confirmed Daryl and Carol aren’t heading for romance, so it’s not something we need to worry about.
So here’s the thing. Last week's Fear episode (5x15) got me thinking about the bridge symbolism. In that episode, a bridge little literally falls apart beneath them. 
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We already know that the bridge represents the community. So, the bridge falling apart beneath them represented the community falling apart. We already kind of knew that at the end of 5x15, but 5x16 confirmed it. Ginny came to “help” them but she split them all up, which means their community is in shambles, much as TF’s was right after the fall the prison. Everyone separated, split up, in different places, and trying to find their way back to each other. So, the bridge falling apart represented that.
I was just turning this over my head and thinking about the bridge symbolism. I mentally ran through the various episodes that have had bridges in them and what they represented. This is when I got my epiphany. I started thinking about when Daryl and Carol went off the bridge together in 5x06 and what it meant.
In the past, I’ve always assumed that it was a foreshadow of Beth’s arc. Falling off a bridge generally means getting separated from the community. But it doesn't always have to be the person who fell off the bridge who is separated.
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For example, there was that time Tara fell off the bridge in 7x06, Swear. Yes, she was separated from her community for a short time while she went and discovered Oceanside, but overall, I'm not sure she really fits the bill. She wasn’t gone very long and nobody presumed she was dead. She simply wasn’t gone long enough for that to be the case. 
So, while her falling off the bridge represented her being away from the community in the short term, I think it also represented Heath disappearing for a long period of time.
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Because Heath, like Beth, has been gone for years. There hasn’t been much talk about him (to be fair, there hasn’t been much talk about Beth either) and I think we can assume TF thinks he's dead because he never came back.
To top it all off, Angela Kane confirmed that Jadis gave him to the helicopter people. So, Heath and Rick at the very least are in the same place and that has been confirmed. But I digress. Once more, I think Tara falling off the bridge represented Heath’s absence more than it did hers.
So, back to Daryl and Carol. Given that template, I always assumed that them going off the bridge in 5x06 was a foreshadow of Beth being separated from the group for a long time. And I still think that’s a valid interpretation, given everything we’ve seen.
But here’s something that occurred to me last week in thinking about the bridge stuff. Because of all this talk of Daryl and Carol taking off together, it occurred to me that if they do leave together, that would be them leaving the community together. Obviously. And…the two of them went off a bridge together in 5x06.
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To see what I mean, you kinda have to take a giant backward. Look not at the specifics, but at the very broad sequences of everything that happened in S5, because I think everything—truly EVERYTHING—that happened in S4 and S5 were foreshadows of bigger things that would happen later. 
We’ve already proven this with quite a few events. This is just another one that, if Daryl and Carol leave the communities together, will end up being true as well. For example, Beth being separated from Daryl in the short term, from 4x13 to 5x08 was a foreshadow of them being separated for much longer time after Coda. 
Similarly, I'm thinking about the fact that in 5x02, Carol tried to leave and Daryl stopped her. Then the two of them took off together to find Beth. Literally, the two of them left the rest of the group at Father Gabriel's church and took off on their own. Only after that did they figure out where Beth was and come face-to-face with her.
But it's so much more than that. The more I think about it, the more the parallels lineup. Let's back up and talk about Carol. Why did she try to leave in 5x02? Because she just suffered a major trauma by losing a child. Actually, by losing children (Lizzie and Mika.) She was depressed over the death of a child and was trying to leave the group over it. Daryl stopped her from leaving just before the two of them took off together.
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Now, going into season 10, Carol has been traumatized by the death of Henry, her child. From what I can tell, at the beginning of S10, she’s just returned from being out on a boat. Which means she's leaving the community to go off on her own and deal with her grief. The reason she and Daryl are happy to see each other is simply because they haven't in a while. So, their little reunion in 10x01 will parallel their reunion in 5x01. They’ve been separated for time and are just glad to see each other. BFFs, after all, right?
Do you see why the two of them leaving together might be a big thing a good thing for TD? It won't be a romantic thing anymore than it was in 5x06. I don't know why they would choose to leave the communities together plot-wise, but if they’re following the template of S5, the two of them leaving together will probably lead directly to them running into Beth.
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You could even argue that Tyreese parallels Ezekiel. Even though Carol and Ty weren’t a romantic couple, they were sort of “playing house” in 4x14. They actively talked about staying there and raising the girls together, just as Carol and Ezekiel raised Henry together. In 5x02, Carol had just lost Tyreese. And while Zeke isn’t dead, she’s still lost him, and their relationship by having left him after Henry died. The parallels are strong with this one, my friends.
Another thought that’s been bouncing around in my head lately? My fellow theorists and I have been examining that final scene of Slabtown a lot lately. The one where Beth walks down the hall holding scissors, as though she's about to attack Dawn or Edwards, but then Carol is brought in on a stretcher and she backs off.
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The reasons we’ve been examining this scene are irrelevant to this post (just a few background symbols we've been looking at) but I think it's because I keep looking at that scene lately that this occurred to me.
So, we think Beth is with the helicopter people. And we know Rick is. I had the thought some time ago that maybe Carol being brought in on the stretcher was a foreshadow of something bigger later on.
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I can see Beth being with the helicopter people, trying to stage a coup and get away from them, but then she stops when someone is brought in that she recognizes. In this case, it would be Rick. I mean he was pretty much on stretcher when they took him away in the helicopter, and we know he was badly hurt. If Beth is with the helicopter people, there's a good chance she might be there when they bring Rick in and he needs medical care.
I still think that's a possibility, but if Daryl and Carol take off together in the same way they did in S5, well, maybe it will actually be Carol again who is brought in. Maybe it will be a very specific replay of what happened in S5. Carol getting hit by a car in Atlanta could have a parallel to something in the future that will eventually happen to take Carol to wherever Beth is. Same as S5.
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I have no idea if this will pan out or not. If Daryl and Carol don’t leave the communities together, the entire thing will be moot anyway. But remember that Melissa was seen filming in Texas (presumable for Fear), as was Michonne’s stunt double. Norman was seen at a Texas airport as well, around the same time, but there’s some speculation that might have been for Ride. There just no way to be certain.
But, if I'm right about this template, a lot of the interesting things in Consumed suddenly make more sense. We saw a lot of suspicious symbols like red cars and red + green tents on the sky bridge (BRIDGE!).
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Anyway, I think this has a lot of potential. I can't help but be curious about who will fill Noah's role if they retell this part with Daryl and Carol looking for Beth. There's no telling who will be, but it would have to be someone who's escapes the helicopter group (where Beth is) and somehow tells Daryl and Carol about it.
 I can't help but think it will probably be someone from Morgan's group. Morgan himself? Dwight maybe? We just have some really interesting possibilities and some great ways to connect these story lines. It makes me super excited. Of course, just to reiterate one more time, this is all conjecture right now. But super-fun conjecture to think about! 😉
Thoughts?
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minaminokyoko · 5 years
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Toy Story 4: A Spoilertastic Review
*huge sigh of relief* Disney/Pixar, y'all had me worried.
Truly. Honestly. Not that you guys aren't amazing, but the Toy Story films have a legacy that almost no other franchise period has: three perfect movies, and movies that improved with each sequel. Most of the time, trilogies can't pull that off. Sometimes you get three that are good, but there's a straggler in the bunch, like the original Star Wars trilogy or The Dark Knight saga. Like a lot of folks, I was sweating bullets when they announced TS4 because this is one of the only trilogies where each sequel was friggin' better than the last, and TS3, imo, might be the best Disney/Pixar film period. Honestly, it stands at the top of just animated films period, and so I was very nervous to think about trying for a fourth one.
I am very pleased to say TS4 is a worthy sequel. It's not empty, it's not lazy, it's great. I personally put it on the same level as the first movie. I do consider TS2 and TS3 to be better than this one, but not for a bad reason, simply because it's attempting something different from the previous films. This is another all-positive review for me; all I've got are nitpicks, no cons at all. Disney/Pixar did a great job creating what a friend of mine referred to as an epilogue story. That sounds about right to me. It's like there's a trilogy and an epilogue now to the Toy Story saga.
Overall Grade: A
Spoilers ahead.
-I really want to dive in to talk about the fact that while it might upset some people, this movie is about Woody, almost exclusively, and I actually like that a lot. I don't mind at all that this is a snapshot of dealing with change through Woody's perspective, and you know why? Man. Woody is a fucking great character. Really. To his core, he's a phenomenal, landmark, memorable character. I think as the years pass and people reevaluate what films will stand the test of time, animated or otherwise, people will realize that Woody is such a well-written, well-acted character. One of the things that I think got everyone ugly sobbing in TS3 was the way that Andy described Woody: "He'll never give up on you." That's it. That's why Woody is just such a charming character. He will do whatever it takes to do the right thing for the kids. Every time. No matter what it costs him. And that's why this movie took a big risk in breaking up the Toy Story family, but at the same time, it's giving Woody a path that allows him to do something he loves and that is important to him, and for him to be happy in the process. It's a very surprising and unique but realistic idea that Bonnie, while a great kid, wasn't the kid for Woody. But he cared so much for her that he wanted to make sure she got the right toy that will help her learn and grow. That's...fucking amazing, man. I got choked up. I really did. Woody's heart is so huge. And I love that this movie showed that he's been through some rough stuff and that it was time for him to be able to find his own happiness while still being able to help kids, because that's who he is. He's a leader. He cares to a fault. Woody is such a rich character and I'm really glad they got to focus on him and gave him a good send off. It's quite touching. I hate the idea of the gang breaking up, but the movie does an excellent job of explaining change. I like this motif. Things change. Something you always dreamt of might be different. Or things end and you have to move on and try something else. It's a great lesson for all of us to learn, and it took some serious courage to do that in a franchise so known for its ensemble cast and family. I dig it. I truly do.
-Bo and Woody had me all up in my feels. Oh, man. When she was taken...my fucking heart...oh, that hit me right in the feels. I love how they filmed the reunion, too, that the first time he saw her again they were both having to be inert at the time. That was so cleverly done, and it's so apparent how soft they are for each other. It's really sweet. I enjoyed getting to see their dynamic, even with things being strained between them. The hat thing gets me every time. I love nuance, and Bo pulling down his hat is just the cutest little gesture that sells the entire relationship. I enjoyed Bo getting to be active and frankly badass, because it's super cool to see a girl's toy everyone would think is too delicate to be played with be at the forefront of the action.
-I enjoyed Gabby being a sympathetic antagonist. That's awesome. I always applaud movies that can pull it off. It's easy to write a one note villain. It's much, much harder to write one who has a story and who has something that they want, and that the hero is standing in their way. I also think it's a GREAT lesson for kids growing up. Sometimes the thing you think you want isn't what it seems. There are going to be SO many moments in a kid's life where they've been dying to get something, and it's a big disappointment in the end, or they don't get it at all. Wow. Powerfully done. And the scene with the little lost girl damn near made me shed actual tears. That was nothing short of beautiful. Because that is what it's like for kids. Kids get scared, and sometimes the smallest thing encourages them. It hearkens back to what Woody did on Bonnie's first day, getting her the supplies to make Forky and getting her confidence and creativity up. Fuck, that melted my heart. Gabby's story was fantastic, and touching, and a really good use of an antagonist. I was very, very satisfied with how they handled it.
-Centering everything as one big chase scene, kind of Mad Max: Fury Road in a weird way, was a lot of fun. It kept you guessing and it kept things fresh. I also am really impressed that they managed to unnerve the unholy hell out of me with Gabbie and the puppets. I'm actually not scared of puppets, but the way that they moved was very, very creepy, and I would never have expected it from Toy Story. Nice job, guys.
-Forky is the right balance of being a naive, hapless character without being annoying. I was worried his antics would get old, but actually, no. I didn't hate him. I like that Woody was frustrated, but he didn't hate the little guy and he wasn't jealous of him. He did the right thing and he helped Forky understand what toys are all about, and it's very heartwarming.
-Duke Kaboom was such a treat. I'm really happy everyone is now on the Keanu boat, because I've been a stan for that man since the fucking 90's and it's so satisfying to see others join me. He really is a fun, sweet human being, and his character is delightfully over the top. I loved him. It worked really well with the rest of the film, and I am all about the Keanussance/Reevessance that's going on right now. Keep it up. You're breathtaking.
-Goodness me, I just need to note how gorgeous the effects are. I mean, it's Disney/Pixar, it's always gorgeous, but for instance, the rain sequence in the beginning was incredible. That water...man...they are so exceptional at details and realism all while still creating their own look. Bravo, man.
-The payoff of the little guy getting his high five finally was fucking adorable. This is what makes me love Disney/Pixar so much, too. It's the little things that put a smile on your face. How cute.
Nitpicks:
-Key and Peele were annoying. There. I said it. I fucking hate them both, and they were annoying. But thank God, they were more cameo characters than main leads. Throw them both in the trash, though. Ugh.
-I don't like that Gabby needing to switch out the voice box had zero consequences. That was...odd. And kind of like cheating. I got really excited when Woody allowed it to happen so he could get Forky back, but then nothing bad happened. I thought that maybe Woody's voice would be damaged, go in and out, or he'd be mute, and it would show what a sacrifice he made for Bonnie. Nope. It had no negative consequences, so it almost makes me wonder why they did that. It ended up a moot point, and invalidated the conflict.
-I'm waffling on how I feel about Bonnie just forgetting about Woody entirely. Mind you, this is realistic. This is how small kids work. They move abruptly and often without explanation. But thematically, I sort of wanted her to notice him gone, if only to tie off how I felt about how far Woody was willing to go to make her happy. But at the same time, that's kids for you. Things happen fast. She's going to be happy, and so will the rest of the toys, and that's the most important thing in the end.
-I did actually want a longer scene of just Woody and Bo together, catching up. I don't feel robbed, but I was letdown because I wanted to know more about them since they seem to truly click and feel strongly for one another. I'd have liked to see them just sit and talk for a moment, but the film had too much urgency, so unfortunately we had to keep moving.
I only just got home, so I don't know if other reviews are out, but let me go ahead and say that if anyone is shitting on this film, I guarantee you it's people who don't like change. This film is different and it takes risks and in the end, it is about Woody and not the rest of the toys, so it is going to step on some toes. However, it has earned a spot on the shelf next to the other movies. Trust me, its heart is in the right place and it's still keeping our legacy of films on par with each other. I don't feel that it takes anything away from them, and is simply a send off to a character I think will stand the test of time as one of the greats. I'm glad it was just as worthy as I hoped it would be.
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taotrooper · 5 years
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In fine feather: chapter 1
On AO3
Title: In Fine Feather Characters: Mainly Wei Wuxian. In this chapter, Jiang Fengmian, Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng Pairings: eventual wangxian down the road Genres: Wingfic, Fantasy AU, Youkai AU (sorta), Modern AU with Magic, Fish out of Water, Family Dynamics, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Adopted Siblings, Changelings, Misunderstandings, Coming of Age, Slice of Life Summary: Wei Ying thought he was a normal orphan boy until one night, while still a child, a pair of black wings burst out from his back. After he discovers he's a member of a race of spirits and is taken by a family of winged beings, he has to adapt to a new culture and species which isn't easy. Always charming and clever, he gets to heal his traumas and be loved by his new relatives, he learns how to fly and cast magic spells, he makes friends with other kids his age, he confuses everyone with his references from the human world. Most importantly, he learns his own worth. And much later as he grows, he finds love in a friend, and eccentric ways to bridge the mystical mountains with the good things he left behind Notes: CW references of children being violent and abusive towards another kid. It's not that graphic, and beyond the first couple of chapters I doubt this will come up again, but still merits a warning
When little Wei Ying came to his senses, he wasn't on the ground anymore.
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a clear night sky and stars that flickered like freckles of light in infinity. It was daytime when he had fallen asleep in a forgotten corner, in a lonely alley, yet this wasn't the strangest part. How was he even seeing so much sky, not blocked by a single building or part of a ceiling? Yet no, it was all wide and endless.
The cold wind hit his face immediately; it made his back pain worse, but it refreshed his burning skin. He was moving somehow and his body was slowly swaying up and down like a boat. He then realized there were arms that held him tight, on the crook under his knees and carefully around his shoulders.
He couldn't see the face of the person well. By the size, it had to be an adult. Alarmed, the boy tried to get away —which hurt plenty, in his state—, but when he looked below he changed his mind and froze his brusque movements.
He saw shiny city lights below. Not only that, they looked distant: he was meters and meters above the land. Neither ground to stand on or feet were visible.
Scared and too sore to jerk again, he raised his head to take a look at what he imagined was a kidnapper. The face was obscured by the darkness, but he could perceive two things. First, long hair and broad shoulders. That wasn't much to work with, but the next observation made him forget these features.
Something flapped behind the figure. Wings! Wings like a bird's on his back!
"Relax," a soothing masculine voice came from the face's direction. "Don't stir or you'll fall. You're safe now."
Was this real or a dream? Was this a delirium from his fever? Was this a personification of death coming for him?
Or was this man... someone like him?
The arms still retained his back, still made indirect contact with the fuzzy origin of his pain.
Wei Ying was too weak to ask, too sleepy to worry, too sick to think. He closed his eyes again without noticing, and dozed off for the rest of the flight.
*****
The next time the boy opened his eyes, he was on a soft bed and lying on his stomach. Sunshine filled an unknown room and birds could be heard singing outside. His head, propped upwards by a tall pillow underneath, felt lighter and refreshed. His back still pulsed in a deaf pain, but not remotely as severe as before. There was a pressure that restricted his movements: he felt the bandages across his torso and backside that someone had dressed him with. He also wasn't wearing his dirty ragged clothes or blanket anymore, but some sort of flowing robes with big sleeves.
He tried to turn on his side to get up, but it was uncomfortable. They had bandaged those things too, completely immobilized.
Still partially asleep, and not knowing exactly what had happened to him and what had been a dream, he felt goosebumps across his arms and panic swirling in his stomach. Was he in danger? Should he run away? Could he run away?
He didn't need to make a choice, since the door opened slowly and a girl came inside with a tray in her hands and a smile on her face.
She was probably a couple of years older than Wei Ying. She had long hair braided in two elaborate buns and wore a pretty hanfu dress. But what really drew Wei Ying's attention was the two feathered wings folded behind her back. They were of a beautiful shade of purple, iridescent feathers like a hummingbird's.
"Oh, you're awake!" she beamed, as though Wei Ying was someone precious and him being there was a blessing. That confused him, but his defenses immediately went down against his will with her aura. "Hi, how are you feeling?"
"...Better?" The boy rested his chin on the pillow to see her with more clarity. Then he waited until she grabbed a chair and sat down, resting the tray on her thighs. She put a hand on his forehead, like Miss Shu used to do to measure temperature when someone had a cold. "Uh, who are you? Are you an angel?"
The girl tilted her head. "Oh, sorry, you must be so confused. My name is Jiang Yanli and it's very nice to meet you! What's an angel?" She put down the lid on top of a ceramic bowl. A good, comforting smell reached his nose. "You must be starving, the poor thing. Please don't get up or move from there, I'll feed you."
Jiang Yanli grabbed a spoon and took a spoonful of soup towards Wei Ying's mouth. He lifted his torso as much as he could and opened his jaw wide. It was the most delicious broth he had ever had. She giggled after seeing his satisfied expression.
"Let me explain. My father found you and took you home three days ago."
"So that winged man was real!" he gasped.
"Of course he was." She kept refilling the spoon and giving Wei Ying more food. He licked his lips after each time. "You had a fever and an infection and one of your wings was broken. Well, still is. The doctor said you have to stay in bed until it heals."
"But I'm..." He swallowed his original argument along with the lotus root he was offered since it was moot: they had those things on their back, just like he did. They wouldn't think of him as a monster if they were just the same as him, right? But was he even worth staying in such a pretty house? They even called a doctor. They were spending money on him. Assuming they used money at all.
"No buts. Please be a good kid and rest. Here, drink this medicine."
Softly but firmly she gave him an elixir that was also on the tray. It was bitter and ruined the taste of pork and lotus roots in his mouth.
"Um," he finally said. "I don't have any money or gold or bird seed or whatever you use. I can't repay you. Is it really okay that I stay?"
Without saying a word, Jiang Yanli placed her hand on Wei Ying's head and caressed him, tousling his short dark hair with her fingers. He felt a pang in the chest that was unrelated to the tight bandages, and before he knew it he felt tears running through his cheeks. How embarrassing.
"Don't worry about that. Just focus on getting better, okay? If you need to cry, go ahead. I won't tell anyone!"
She kept comforting him for a while until he let go of all the sadness and loss he had felt in the last week or so.
"Thank you, big sis. You're so kind," he said between sobs, moved. "Are you sure I didn't die and this isn't Heaven?"
"Not at all, you're in Yushan, the Feather Mountains," she said with a serious tone but still with a smile.
These bird people aren't really that good at names, Wei Ying thought. Then again, the same could be said of him, as he remembered how he called his old toys. Maybe that's where he got it from.
"Dad should be back in the evening." She raised the tray and got up. "He knows the whole story and he'll be better at explaining everything. So just rest and sleep until he returns."
"Okay, okay. Got it. I'll be a good boy for big sis. And the soup was the best I've ever had!" He also smiled.
"You're already a good boy, A-Xian. See you later, okay?"
After a pat on the head, Jiang Yanli left him alone in the big room with more questions than answers.
"Wait, why did you call me A-Xian?" he asked out loud.
He felt like the room, so illuminated and warm while the girl barged in, suddenly turned darker with her absence.
*****
Wei Ying didn't notice when he had fallen asleep again. The then almost familiar pain kicked in at full force again and he bit his lip. He realized he was probably given a painkiller and the effect must have passed already. He felt sharpness like knives where the wings met his back's open skin, and even the most infinitesimal move in his body made him wince. It made sense, though. Those were deep cuts after all. Even if these bird people had patched it in, it was still a wound.
The broken wing also throbbed underneath the bandages, but it wasn't as bad as his back.
The boy was bored out of his mind. All he could do was examining the room from his fancy bed. The furniture, the window, the door, it all looked old-fashioned and traditional. There were no electric lamps or appliances, much less a TV set or a radio to entertain himself with. Even hospitals had those sort of things. This patient was going to die from a different condition if he couldn't find a distraction.
All he could do was reliving that night in his head, over and over. The agony and impotence at the pain. The blood he couldn't see but felt dripping down his back. The terrible sensation of those things bursting out of his flesh, his skin and muscles feeling like torn part by the new limbs all of a sudden. The deafening screams got louder as bones he shouldn't have grew and formed, covered in bloodied feathers.
The faces of horror and nausea of his roommates and friends echoing and amplifying the emotions in his chest. Yells, tears, hands dragging him out of the bunk bed. Poor Miss Shu, staring with wide eyes and covering her mouth with her hand before running to call for help, not knowing what was going to happen when she left them alone. Then... the insults, the punches, the kicks coming from the older boys. The pain getting worse, not only on his back but in his heart. Escaping as fast as he could.
Even inside that room, even after he met others like him, he couldn't shake that fear and hatred away yet. Every pang since that night was a reminder he was not human anymore. Had he even been a human being at any point, he wondered?
Oh well, he couldn't do anything about it if he was a monster. At least he wasn't the only one!
Later in the afternoon, the door opened again.
A child around his age charged in, his posture upright as if he owed the place. Or at least Wei Ying though he was a boy because of his outfit and scowl, since his hairstyle —long and tied in a bun— was not something he had seen yet in children of his gender outside of TV. While he also wore hanfu clothing, they looked masculine and he was wearing trousers unlike Yanli and her flowing dress. Everything and everyone in that house seemed like they came out of a period drama.
But that wasn't the most shocking part about the kid: He had no wings.
"Huh? There's a human here?" Wei Ying blurted out and blinked.
The boy in hanfu reacted as though he had been slapped in the face.
"What did you say? Who are you calling a human?!" the boy cried.
"Well, aren't you? I mean, you don't have wings like that guy and that girl."
The boy rushed to stand in front of Wei Ying's face and crossed his arms.
"I see, so you're not only rude and dirty but stupid as well."
"What? Why? Who are you calling stupid?"
It was Wei Ying's turn to pout and get annoyed. Why was he the rude one when the other boy was the one insulting his intelligence? In fact, he had been one of the cleverest kids in the House and prided himself from not having to study much or at all for most tests. He had the multiplication table memorized up to 12 perfectly.
"Don't call me a filthy human or I'll break your other wing!! I'm as much as a dianshen as you are. Even more!"
Wei Ying blinked again. "I'm sorry, a what now?"
"That's the name of our people." The boy rolled his eyes. "You really don't know anything, do you?"
"Ah, I thought we were just bird monsters or demons or something." He hadn't heard the words well, but the first part sounded like heaven, tian, and the second as god or spirit, shen. "Are we... gods?"
"Hmph, do I have to explain even that to you? No, we're not gods, but we're so much more than humans. We're high-leveled spiritual beings."
"Oh, spirits? Like fairies and crap?"
"Yes, but we're much cooler than the other fairy species." The boy grinned and raised his chin.
Wei Ying hummed. Well, it was nice to be told exactly what kind of creature he was. "Okay. But if you're one of those tianshen things..."
"DIANshen!" The kid stomped his foot. "Spirit of the mountain summon!"
"Yeah, whatever. Show me the characters later. If you're one of those, then why don't you have wings?"
The boy hit his forehead with his palm.
"No one is born with them, idiot. You didn't have wings until now, remember? We grow them when we're between 9 and 11."
Suddenly everything made sense. He was nine years old. "...Ah! That's why!" Instinctively, Wei Ying tried to rise up, and he felt a terrible cramp in the wound at the root of his wings.
The boy suppressed a snicker and sat on the chair by the bed. "I should wing any time soon, in any case. And mine will be stronger than yours."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say." After that boast, even though he didn't like his wings at all and one had been broken, Wei Ying wanted to accept that challenge just to show him. In any case, the guy being all proud at tiny things was cute, and insults aside he was amusing when he was angry. Wei Ying wouldn't mind becoming his friend, considering he had lost all of his previous ones. So he smiled at him as warmly as he could with his backache killing him. "Hey, let's start this again. I'm Wei Ying. What's your name?
"Jiang Cheng, courtesy name Jiang Wanyin."
"Ah, Jiang like Jiang Yanli, the cute sweet sister with the delicious soup."
"Yanli's my big sister." Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by the fact Wei Ying liked her.
"Ah, you're the young lord of the house? Ahahaha! Nice to meet you, Jiang Cheng."
"Can't say the same, you're kind of rude and dumb."
"Pffft. Don't be such a sour bird."
It took Wei Ying a big effort, but still lying down he reached out with one arm, hoping to shake hands with the other boy. Jiang Cheng just stared at the offered hand and didn't take it.
"See, to me that's rude," Wei Ying retorted without losing his good humor.
"What do you want me to do? Stretch my arm too?"
Wei Ying suddenly understood the problem. That was a modern human custom imported from the West. Of course these vintage Chinese fairy bird spirits would not know how to deal with it.
"Ah, right. Grab it and squeeze it," he explained. Jiang Cheng sighed and did as told, and let Wei Ying move his hand up and down a couple of times.
"That's a bit silly," Jiang Cheng said. "Besides, you're the one who should learn how to greet our way."
"Of course, I'll do that. But for that you gotta teach me how, dude," Wei Ying beamed wider.
The boy closed one hand in a fist and touched his other hand's open palm with it. Then he made a bow. It looked incredibly old-fashioned from Wei Ying's point of view, just like the decoration and the clothes.
"Pardon my manners. I want to do it, but I'm in pain and I don't think the bandages would let me bow," Wei Ying said with honesty.
Jiang Cheng glanced at Wei Ying's back even though it was covered by the bedsheets. It looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he sighed and never did.
"I should get going," he muttered instead. "I have a lesson coming up now and I'll be late."
"Aww, too bad. Can't you skip class? I'm so bored here... And I need help to pee..."
Jiang Cheng shook his head. "I'm not getting in trouble with my mother for someone this dumb. And I doubt I can get you up! I'll send someone to help, pain killers, and a book because you certainly need more culture."
"Thanks, dude. Do you dianshen have comic books?"
"I have never heard of those," Jiang Cheng got up.
"Fine, a normal book will do. I actually like those too, believe it or not. Thank you for everything, young master." Wei Ying tapped his palm with his fist without folding his arms or bowing, the best he could.
"You're learning fast." Jiang Cheng's grin as he opened the door felt less cynical than before.
*****
It wasn't until the sun was setting down that he met the enigmatic winged man again. He arrived with a bright lamp which he set on a table. Wei Ying wondered how it worked, since a candle would be dimmer and he doubted they had any electric batteries.
"Good evening, young master Wei" he said as he sat at the border of the bed to check on the bandages. "I heard you finally woke up."
If his children looked like extras in a wuxia movie, that guy could be one of the main characters. His hair was long with parts tied up in a topknot and two perfect side braids. If the bird men had shampoo commercials, that length would be perfect for one. His outfit was quite fancy, too. His face was good-looking, but most importantly it irradiated serenity. Also, now Wei Ying could see his wings were violet. Not as shiny as Yanli's but the hue was still a cool color.
"Um, hello," Wei Ying stammered.
"Hello to you too, I'm happy to meet you at last." He gave him a tender smile. "My name is Jiang Fengmian and it's a pleasure."
"Same here." Wei Ying did his best to do as much of the greeting as he could.
"Ah, don't overdue it. I'm afraid you'll have to rest and move very little for days to come." Just as he had feared. Since the boy looked sad, Jiang Fengmian continued. "So I heard you already met my children. You seem to have caused an opposite impression on A-Li and A-Cheng."
With that comment, Wei Ying knew that Jiang Cheng had described him to his father as stupid and rude. He was not surprised. He wondered if he should say something to disprove it, like reciting the hardest multiplication tables, but he felt unusually shy around this person. And he had so many questions as well.
"A-Xian, you must be confused. Please tell me what's on your mind, and ask me anything you don't understand, no matter how small."
In that case... "Yeah, well. How did you find me in the middle of a city? Why did you save me? Where is this place? Why are you guys calling me A-Xian? How come the cameras on satellites have not caught dianshen flying on video?"
The man laughed, but not in a mocking manner.
"I cannot answer to the last one unless you give me a translation, but let's start with the others. Do you... Do you remember your parents?"
Wei Ying stirred inside the bedclothes. "Not really. When I was little, they found me with a wound in my head in the middle of nowhere. It was pretty weird. All I could remember was my own name. I was told they notified the cops but there was no report of a missing boy with my name or description, so I was sent to the closest orphanage." As he went through the earliest memories he held, he started to tie things together with the knowledge he was not human. "Did I, um... fall from the sky or something?"
"That was indeed the case," Jiang Fengmian sighed. "I can enlighten you but unfortunately it's not going to be a happy story."
It already wasn't, so Wei Ying shrugged.
"I knew you and your parents. Your father was Wei Changze and he was my best friend since childhood. Your mother was Cangse Sanren. They were good people and they loved you, their only child, very much. Your family liked to travel and meet new places. You were even born during one of those trips. I think your family was likely happy and free."
Wei Changze. Cangse Sanren. Wei Ying repeated the names in his head a few times, hoping he wouldn't forget again.
"But something happened," he said.
"As much as we can predict and sometimes even control the weather, sometimes it's too much even for us." Jiang Fengmian's face showed distress. "A hurricane knocked your traveling carriage over. We managed to track Changze-xiong's whereabouts but it was too late. Madam Cangse was found miles away and passed away before we could move her. But you, Wei Wuxian, were not near either of your parents' bodies. The whirlwind must have tossed you away from them and quite far, considering you ended up in a human city."
He felt chills down his spine. He wasn't expecting it to sound so tragic.
"Oh, there it is again. A-Xian, Wuxian. Why?"
"Our kind uses two names, my boy. Wei Ying was your birth name. Wei Wuxian was the courtesy name that your parents had chosen for you once you had your wings."
Jiang Fengmian took an object from his pocket and gave it to him. It was a silver bell with a red tassle, the three characters of his courtesy name engraved on its round surface. He twirled it between his fingers. Wei Ying's heart started to ache as an echo of his wings', for those parents he couldn't remember anymore.
"We couldn't find you until now. A dianshen's spiritual energy is not strong enough until we are truly complete. The tracking spell started to react as soon as you winged, as soon as you had magic in your body we could locate. I must apologize, though. I wasn't fast enough and had to wait until nighttime to search in town. You were hurt and sick."
Wei Ying opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.
"Why do you apologize, sir? Just the fact you arrived is... I don't deserve this kindness."
"You do. And I owe it to my friends as well."
Jiang Fengmian ruffled Wei Ying's hair. Then he examined his broken wing more closely, with a serious expression.
"May I ask how it happened?" he inquired.
Wei Ying stiffened.
"Um, I don't remember well," he lied, "these days were a blur. It was totally my fault, though! I think I fell down on my wing and it twisted with the weight."
He just couldn't tell him the truth. What if this massive fairy bird man went to the House and tried to kick the boys' asses? Or even worse? He just couldn't allow it, no matter how cruel their treatment had been or if they deserved it.
Jiang Fengmian didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it. He just seemed lost in thought for a minute before he shook his head.
"You should be more careful, as newly formed wings are delicate." After covering Wei Ying's body with the bedsheets again, he got up. "Don't worry about anything, A-Xian. Your only concern should be staying put and resting so you can heal faster. Just say so if there's anything you want."
"Um, quick question. Is that lotus root and pork rib soup too expensive? Because that was really good."
"A-Li will be glad to hear!" Jiang Fengmian smiled. "There should still be more so I'll tell her to bring it to you for dinner."
"Okay... Ah! Can Jiang Cheng skip his stupid classes to come and hang out longer?"
"Ah, A-Xian, my wife won't allow it." That mysterious lady of the house was starting to scare him a bit. Every guy seemed determined not to upset her and that couldn't be a good sign. "I'll tell him to come by daily, but not at the expense of his lessons. Is that okay by you?"
"Probably not by him, but alright," Wei Ying laughed. Jiang Fengmian stared at him, stunned. It was probably the first time he had smiled at him. He returned it with a soft chuckle.
"Just be patient, boy. You'll get out of that bed soon."
Before he left the room, Wei Ying called him back: "Uncle Jiang?"
"...Yes?" There was a light in his eyes when he heard the way the boy had called him.
"I... Thank you very much for... dunno, everything. And sorry." His cheeks blushed.
"Don't mention it." The man smiled and closed the door.
Wei Ying stared at the silver bell and then collapsed his face against the pillow, letting out a groan of pain and annoyance. He felt burdened with wings he never asked for, a past he couldn't remember, and parents who hadn't abandoned him. Things were much simpler before he woke up.
Orphans usually have this dream. A dream that someday, a person who was a relative or connected to their parents would swoop in, assure them they had been loved, and take them to a big house with lovely people to live happy forever. So Wei Ying was a monster fairy spirit thing, sure, but that fantasy came true or so it seemed for the time being.
Then why didn't he feel happier? Why was he hollow inside?
And he had more questions than before! What kind of miracle had happened so he had survived a hurricane, and one that killed two adults, with only a head injury? Did he understand Mr. Jiang correctly and these birds had flying carriages? Tracking spells? Were his wings something that showed up in a fairy radar? Where did they get lotus roots and pork for that soup? How did that rectangular, traditional-looking lamp in the corner of the room even work?!
Was the Jiang family going to kick him out after his wings healed?
Putting the bell under his pillow, he just closed his eyes and took a nap until dinner time. His body and his heart were fragile and weaker than his mind. Unable to keep up with his confusing thoughts, he dreamed about old times when he could run and laugh with friends.
*****
Extra
A young man was sitting in front of a mirror and humming a song. Gray stormy eyes looked at his own hair while a comb danced through inky black that continued down to the middle of his back. He grabbed two tresses from each side of his head and joined them together, to then tie the hair between them all up in a half ponytail with a striking red ribbon. He looked at the result but, not satisfied, he undid it and started again. It took him three tries for the hairdo to look symmetrical.
He turned his head to each profile to make sure. Finally pleased, he stared at himself and practiced a wink and a seductive smile. Yet he couldn't stand it for long and ended up laughing at his own silliness.
"Good, now that's a handsome wuxia hero in a shampoo commercial," he teased himself for his vanity. He was wearing his favorite black and red flowing robes, the ones he affectionately called his 'cool leather jacket for bird fairies' —to most people's confusion.
Wei Wuxian went on a gait through the hallway. By then he had lived half of his life in that cozy big mansion in the mountains. Soul and wing had healed long ago even if there was still a tiny crack in both he did his best to ignore. He could still fly better and smile brighter than most people despite the crooked wing tip and sad memory that remained. All he could do was to embrace the past and forgive.
He reached the living room area where his two siblings sat in peace.
"Wei Wuxian, are you finally ready?" Jiang Cheng got up with a sneer. "Why do you either take like an hour to groom or just go outside the same way you got up in the morning, never in between?"
"The duality of man," he chirped. Then he turned around to the young lady. "Sis, do you want to come? We're having dinner with the gang in town. It'll be fun!"
"I'd love to, A-Xian, but I have a date tonight."
"Bring your peacock fiancé, then! The more, the merrier!"
"You always say that, but you end up almost punching Jin Zixuan every time," Jiang Cheng covered his forehead with his palm.
"Hey, there was one time when you almost did, too! Wen Ning is my witness that he had to stop us both from ruffling serious golden feathers."
"It was one time and he wasn't in love with her yet." He grabbed Wei Wuxian's shoulder. "Honestly, let them spend time alone. The less boyfriends my siblings bring, the less it ruins these relaxing nights."
"Bad news then: Lan Zhan is coming."
"The problem isn't him coming, it's you both acting annoying!"
Wei Wuxian wasn't planning to stop saying shameless things or displaying his affection just because his brother was embarrassed or possibly jealous. Besides, Lan Wangji was part of his social circle (or The Flock, as he liked to call his boys) regardless of their current relationship.
He pushed Jiang Cheng towards the front yard, hands on bright purple wings, ignoring protests.
"Let's not dawdle with your protests. Let's go, let's go!! Bye, sis!"
"Have fun, A-Cheng, A-Xian!" the girl smiled and waved goodbye.
"Hey sour bird, do we go downtown or do we go to the Nies' place first?"
"Screw Nie Huaisang, I say. He takes even longer to get ready than you."
"Fine, then let's leave..." A cheeky smile was on his face. "Last one who gets there is a winged monkey!"
Quickly, he spread his black wings and took off to the dusk sky. Behind him he heard Jiang Cheng's loud curse and the sounds of feathery flaps approaching fast. He chuckled and flew faster, not minding that the wind was tousling his hairdo.
Notes:
The dianshen (巔神, forgive me if it makes no sense in actual Chinese) are made up for this fic and don't really exist in Chinese mythology but take inspiration on several legends like mainly the Japanese tengu (which is why I tagged it as youkai even though it's not quite), with some of the Chinese shen, the fae, and even an air to Buddhist immortals. Yushan, obvious name and all, is an actual place in legends, though!
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chronicbatfictioner · 5 years
Text
A Real Boy - Chapter 23
Tim's suspicion didn't pan out. Appallingly. Amanda Waller, even when not hidden by the government's reverse 'Big Brother' watch, did exactly as suspected from someone assigned to 'protect a nation's security'. She went to meetings with people of questionable types, both the clandestine and actually not-so-nice kind of questionable; she went to secret meetings, and not-so-secret meetings with government-looking people. And so on and so forth. Watching her activities was literally like looking at a generic spy movie. By the end of the footages, Tim could tell who was actually following her, which of them were friendlies, which of them were not.
"If it's any consolation, I'm sure she, too, knows which of them are friendlies, which are not." Barbara told him, smiling.
"Yeeeah... I just... I-- I saw Conner's energy, Babs, I'm sure." Tim sighed. "There are several possibilities: one is that his soul was trying to return. But Jason said if a familiar is perished, its soul would simply perish into the magi; making the magi more powerful. If the magi is killed, well... that's it. Done and dusted. If a magi died peacefully, there's always a chance that the familiar will get inherited. Conner was an effigy, technically. When he died, he would've gotten absorbed into Clark... and Clark would have known it..." he stopped at the unspoken question in Barbara's face. "Uh... yeah, I asked Jason what happened if a familiar is killed or something. Because I wanna know what happened to my mom's familiar..."
"Janet was a fae-magi. She didn't have a familiar." Barbara stated, looking even more puzzled than before. "Jason said she had one?"
"Yeah, he said she took my dad's rejected familiar." Tim told her. "She never showed you?"
"I was under the impression that, yeah, all magi would like to show off their familiars. And since Jan never did, I thought she didn't have one." Barbara explained. "Now I'm wondering what her familiar was... But anyway. Okay, here's a hole in your theory of the energy being Conner's. If his soul - or what equates as his 'soul' after he was brought to life."
"...And for the record, once a being is sentient, it has a soul." Jason interrupted, walking in next to Zitka - the latter looking like a grey hairless St Bernard next to Jason. "Right, Zitka?" he added once he noticed Tim's sight on the elephant. Zitka trumpeted what sounded like an exclamation point.
"Okay, even effigies?"
"Effigies' soul differ only in color and wavelength. We usually have similar colors to our respective magi, likely in lighter tones. Effigies tend to display the color of its maker - the literal crafter. If the magi is, like, red; and the maker is yellow, the effigy could be orange, instead, or striped or polka-dotted." Jason explained.
"Ooo--kay..." Barbara drawled. "That's... and who can tell the colors of a magickal person?" she wanted to know.
Jason shrugged, "a magi whose powers are of light spectrum? I dunno, that's just how it was explained to me. I never actually asked how."
"You're not helping..." Tim grumbled. "But wait! We all saw the flash of colors, of Bart's, and of Conner's, in the video footage, didn't we?"
"Yes we did..." Barbara grinned. "Oooh, hey, looks like we might just found out how and what magick, real or metaphorical, to use." she added, tapping several commands into her keyboard. "Alright, here's an image of Luthor. I'm using the same filters I used for the CCTV footage of then..."
It was a short footage, extended using the slow-motion filters required to capture what happened to Bart a few days ago. The only difference was that since Lex Luthor did not move in super-high speed like Bart did, the footage took a good long ten seconds to show the soft red light around him.
"Okay," Barbara stopped the footage. "I saw red. You?" Jason and Tim nodded, and Zitka snorted slightly. "Now we do Clark's." she said, putting a different footage, this one of Clark flying over Metropolis in high speed.
"Blue, like Conner's. I toldja it was Conner the other day... If I could see him, that means he's still alive!" Tim nodded in satisfaction. "What?" he demanded when he realized that Barbara was still glaring at him.
"I never knew that, and I've known Clark for a good long while. How did you know Conner's color? Or Bart's?" she asked curiously. "Bart explained that his connection with the Speed Force allowed him to see people's soul - a magi's soul, that is. He couldn't see the souls of people who has no magick. We actually tried that filter on his suggestion. But... you saw the footage and promptly pre-recognized Bart and the other color signature. How?"
Tim blinked. He never realized that he could. He looked at Jason for answers.
"Oh no, you're not gonna blame me for that! I can tell if a person is a magi or not and/or whether they have embraced and/or cultivated their magicks. But I don't know the spectrum of their powers." Jason protested.
Barbara was glaring at him, still, and it made Tim a little uneasy. "What... I don't know how. I just do. And it's just like, for the kids I hang out with..." Tim replied lamely. "I mean, Bart and I-- and Cassie and Conner... we've been friends for a good long while. Rachel just kinda dropped by right thereafter, and when Rachel met us, I already know each of Bart, Cassie, and Conner's colors and stuff.
"Maybe it's something he picked up for hanging out with them for a good long while?" Jason suggested. "Still..." he paused to think.
Barbara picked up where he'd paused. "Still that would mean that you have another aspect of your magick that you probably haven't developed. I'll figure out how you can develop it... or maybe Jason can look through the texts, 'cause I don't think that's the kind of knowledge that's been archived digitally." she said, turning toward her workspace.
Tim didn't even realize he was still blinking owlishly without really looking at Barbara until Jason waved his hand in front of Tim's face. "What??" he demanded.
"I just watched your brain doing the search Babs suggested, reboot itself, and does the search again to no avail. So no, Timmy, I don't have the information yet, either. So let's just do something we know what to do, before delving into the unknown." Jason remarked.
"Which is?" the question was rather moot, because Tim already know the answer.
"I'm gonna go consult the words written on paper. You, well, you can take a nap. Actually, please take a nap. I'm exhausted just by looking at you being tired."
The remark made Tim yawn. He didn't even realize how tired he was until Jason pointed it out.
"Bed, yes?" Jason said.
"How is it you're the one in tune with my feelings?" Tim grumbled, but didn't resist when Jason pulled him and semi-dragged him out of the cave toward the bedrooms.
"It's my job. Or genes. Whatever floats your boat, Timbit. Also your tune with yourself is more out of wack than most people. But that's a rant for another time..."
"You gonna go to the library or stay with me?" Tim's mouth said. Or maybe his brain. At this point, he couldn't be sure anymore. "Whatever 'it' is, Jay, you know we gotta bring Conner home... He's alive. I knew it. I can't see dead people's colors..." he insisted sleepily as Jason shoved him onto the bed.
"I'll stay, the books can come to me." Jason replied, tucking the blankets around Tim and then tucked himself next to Tim.
"I forgot you can magick, too..." Tim mumbled as he relished on the probably-10-thousand-thread-count cotton that is the Wayne family's bedsheets. He was out within seconds, not even knowing if Jason had actually stayed or not. The only thing that signaled Jason's presence was his body's warmth.
Conner walked in to the Wayne Manor. Or flew in. Usually he would fly in, Tim knew. But his brain just wasn't awake enough to make the distinction or even to remember which bedroom he'd been sleeping in. Or if it's day or night.
Or if he was actually awake or asleep, and the sight before him was a mere dream.
Until the bed tilted and Jason poked his cheek, hard, and said, "Okay, we're good. He's conscious, I think."
"I hope so," Conner replied.
"Good dream." Tim retorted. "Now will you please just let me wake up so I don't have to feel sad that Conner isn't really-- What the hell!" --he yelped angrily when someone out of his line of vision slapped him. He blinked a few times, before his eyes finally focused to a mop of blonde-ness next to him. "Stephanie??"
"He's definitely awake, now." Stephanie grinned triumphantly.
"Weee--ll... If I were the one slapping him, he'd be unconscious again."
Tim was sitting up by then, belatedly clutching the blanket around his hips when he realized that someone - probably Jason - had changed his day-clothes to an oversized sleep-shirt and nothing else but his boxers.
"It's not like I've never seen you sleep, before..." Conner remarked, snickering.
"It's... he's-- what--" Tim spluttered coherently, one finger pointing at Conner. He looked at Jason, and then Stephanie. "I'm dreaming, right? I mean, there's Conner, and you-- you're not supposed to be even here... This has got to be some sort of subliminal wish of mine and all..."
Jason rubbed Tim's hair absently, eyes still practically glued to the tablet Tim didn't even see him carrying. "Don't worry about it, Timbit. It's not a dream and you can be in denial all you want."
Conner took a seat at the foot of the bed. "I'm... real, buddy. I'm... there's a long story behind this and I think I'll wait until Mr Alfred brings you coffee so you can be a bit more... coherent."
Stephanie scoffed. "Oh, he's coherent, alright. He doesn't believe that we're here because... apparently Jason said I shouldn't get anywhere within 20 miles radius of magick stuff. By the way--" Stephanie turned to Tim, "Harper is downstairs with Cullen - her brother. You never knew that Cullen is actually a magi, do you?"
"No," Tim admitted. Before he could say anything else, the bedroom door opened and Alfred walked in regally while pushing a trolley.
...And Harper Row walking a few steps behind him, a little less regally as she announced, "Coffee, anyone? Mr Pennyworth here liked my waffle recipe and since we don't have chocolate chips, raisins will have to do for now."
The smell of coffee and butter permeated the air, making Tim a little more certain that he was not, in fact, dreaming.
"But... but... but... --how...?" he asked meekly as a tray of coffee with a pile of waffles was placed on his lap. "...and I gotta pee. Just... give me a second, Alfred, please." he warned. Alfred lifted the tray back up and Tim leaped out of the bed, completely forgetting about the boxers until both Stephanie and Harper whistled wolfishly and Conner chortled.
"Never knew you're the batman-boxer type, Tim!" Harper called out. Tim zoned her out and slammed the bathroom door closed.
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12redsky34 · 6 years
Text
Fairy Tail vs. Eden’s Zero - The Characters
Alright! I've been seeing a heck of a lot of comments about Eden's Zero before the first chapter even released and still after the chapter's been out, but I noticed a lot of criticism has been directed towards how Rebecca and Shiki look and behave the same as Lucy and Natsu, respectively. So today I'm going to cover why they are not the same character 'reskinned', per se.
Before I get into that, however, I think the most important part of this kind of argument is that at the end of the day, all of this is just my opinion. Everyone thinks differently about it. And it’s perfectly fine to have different opinions. What makes these different opinions a problem is continuing to express them to people who already know what your opinion is, and I’m not just talking about this fandom, but we’ll use that as an example since I’m already talking about it.
The main opinion here is the following: Rebecca and Shiki look and act the same as Lucy and Natsu.
That opinion is fine and perfectly valid. And you can tell people that you think Rebecca and Shiki are copy-pasted Lucy and Natsu. But once you’ve said your two cents, back off. If you’re getting to the point that everything you see about something you dislike is giving you the urge to immediately comment negatively on it, it’s time to move on to something else.
And I’m talking about the negative and positive opinions here. I’ve seen far too many people see a post that talks shit about their favourite fandom, then they go off on their own tangent shit-talking the poster. Let people have their opinion, and if you don’t like it, just move on. One of my most important values in life is that if I have time to hate people, then I need to rethink what I’m doing with my life.
If I have time to hate, I have time to be doing something healthier.
I'd also like to address the fact that this opinion is coming off of one chapter, where we still know very little about any extensive backgrounds related to the characters. Anything I say here could be retconned later, or it could prove to remain plausible, I don't know. I would also like to talk about the fact that there are definitely similarities between the characters, but 'similarities' does not automatically mean 'synonymous'.
We'll start with the similarities.
Yes, Rebecca and Lucy both have pale hair, at a similar length. Yes, they are both well-endowed with large eyes and a pretty face. Yes, they both seem to enjoy wearing clothes that reveal a lot of skin.
Yes, Shiki (now) has short spiky hair like Natsu, and yes they both have proven to start out with what seems like pretty powerful magic, Natsu with Dragon Slayer and Shiki with his 'Ether Gear.'
But that's about as far as I'd say those similarities go. And appearances mean nothing without the character's personality.
So let's get into those differences!
Again, we'll start with Rebecca, because she's the one we see most of in this chapter.
We'll start from when we first see her. At first glance it looks a lot like she's just a remade Lucy. They have a similar cheerfulness to them and it's easy to think that. But as we get further into the chapter, we start to see some differences.
Take the scene when they see the robot cat, for example. It seems pretty clear that Rebecca really likes cats, as seen here:
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And she looks just a little horrified that Shiki just busts in and smashes its face into the floor here:
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I seem to remember that Lucy didn’t really have any particular disposition for or against cats, so that’s one difference.
But that's not all. Once she, Happy and Shiki reconvene at the village, she openly enjoys the food given to her where Lucy would run up and down walls denying she enjoys the same things, after Happy was straight up like “didn’t you eat already”:
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Lucy would have murdered him for that. (Or at least pulled on his whiskers)
Immediately after that, we see her in a really pretty, fancy dress, another thing Lucy would have vehemently hated being put into:
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Lucy wore and liked dresses, sure, but to that caliber? Hell no. It would remind her far too much of her childhood. She liked simple numbers compared to what her old life put her into. But Rebecca? She looks pretty happy in that dress.
Then, on the same page, we see her drinking what I assume is some kind of alcoholic beverage, or at least an equivalent for that planet/universal setting. Now this one could be a moot point, as I'm not certain how much alcohol Lucy actually consumed on a regular basis if any, nor do we know if Rebecca drinks regularly, but she doesn't appear adverse to it:
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Let's move on a bit to the scene in the courtyard where the robots start acting violently. I'm not really sure how to phrase this next point, but I'll do my best.
Rebecca and Lucy both have personality traits that are pretty similar. They are both kind yet spunky, unafraid to voice their opinion for the most part. Free spirits, if you will. But Rebecca has a different kind of spark to her. I'm not really sure how to describe it, but sometimes there are some things she'll say or do that just don't seem like something Lucy would do, especially this early on in the story. Take this panel for example:
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Maybe after some experience and life-threatening catastrophes, Lucy would say something like this, but from what we know Rebecca hasn't had nearly the same experience. Look at her, though; even though she's clearly scared and can't even look the King in the eye while she says it, her demeanour is all "I may be scared shitless, but just you try and mess with me!"
I will say again that we don't know anything about Rebecca's past (barring the planet she's from) and what kind of life she lived. She could have been raised in a wealthy, pampered family like Lucy, or she could have been raised the equivalent of an Average Joe for that universe, or she could have been dirt poor and showing a tough face is kind of essential to not being proverbially eaten alive by others. I doubt the last scenario is true, but it's a possibility.
Lastly, and something I think a lot of people have noticed, is that this time it's Rebecca dragging Shiki off on adventures, unlike Fairy Tail where Natsu was the one dragging Lucy around:
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Whew. Now for Shiki. He's a little bit of a different case, but I'll try and cover him as best as I can.
As I said, Shiki and Natsu have some common stuff going on, powerful Magic, short spiky hair and stuff (though in Shiki's case the hair is more because of Rebecca than anything haha). Plus, Shiki seeing his robot friends as equals could be considered a fairly 'Natsu' thing, but personally I believe that's more of a story theme than a character point that's been expressed through Natsu and Shiki with more prominence, which makes it more noticeable. I haven't read Rave Master, but from what I have seen, I would say Haru is the same.
That being said, I'd like to address Shiki's use of 'Ether Gear.' Provided how little we know about it's mechanics, a theory I consider both interesting and accurate according to what we've seen is that Shiki can alter gravitational forces to either make his punches hit harder or make himself float. With Natsu and his Dragon Slayer Magic, yes it takes training and practice to use, but take this scene for example:
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While I doubt he knows everything about Ether Gear (wouldn't leave any room for character development in that front), he clearly knows enough about it to utilize it pretty well. In that scene, just by having Rebecca point in the direction of her ship, he can discern the cardinal direction - north-north-west in this case - and pull himself, Rebecca and Happy over towards it. Just by eyeballing it, too. I don't think we ever see Natsu doing that.
Now, that could raise the argument of "well, of course we never see Natsu doing that, his Magic doesn't require that kind of knowledge," and you're completely right. But that's one of the reasons Natsu and Shiki are so different. Their magic is different, has different applications, is utilized in different ways, and so requires different sets of skills and knowledge. Based on this alone, Natsu and Shiki can and probably will develop into very different characters, even if some of the basic personality traits stay the same.
And all this doesn't even address something every author everywhere tends to do, which is reuse and recycle bits and pieces from their old stories to incorporate into their new ones. The thing that makes a difference between making a good story or a bad story from it is what the Author does with those recycled parts. If they do nothing with it, just slap them on and hope they stick, that's using them incorrectly. But, if Mashima does what I hope he will, and puts a new spin on them, makes them unique through development, that's fine, and will probably make a better story from it.
So, that's my take on Chapter 1! You can agree, disagree, or not care at all, whatever floats your proverbial boat. And remember, everything I've said here is based purely on my observations and opinions on Chapter 1 of Edens Zero. If you read this at a later date and all of this is completely wrong, that will be why. Hope you all have a nice day!
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kickassfu · 6 years
Text
The Cursed Treasure
This was my contribution to klaroline winter wonderland for the wonderful @honestgrins I’m really happy you liked it ^^ I have to thank @garglyswoof for all of her incredible help on what stuff was missing and what fit or not, @gooddame for helping me out how to end the story and giving me ideas, and @austennerdita2533 for being excited with me lol Couldn’t have done it without u guys!
On AO3 and FF.
The Cursed Treasure
It almost seemed like a choreographed dance, with their feet light and fast, and their swords clashing. A duck here, a feint there, round and round they went, neither of them winning the fight. It mattered not that the ship was being blown all around them, or that the blood of their dying companions seeped into the wood as they kept their focus on each other. She wasn’t about to die over a moment of distraction, and apparently he was even more cold-blooded than she - not a speck of worry etched into his features, but a touch of delight and madness shone through his blue tempest eyes. Somehow in the midst of death and fire, he seemed to be having fun, and if she were to be completely honest, so was she.
“Caroline, the ship is sinking, we need to leave.” her first mate yelled as she stabbed a soldier in the chest, but as much as Caroline would like to leave this hellish wreck, she wasn’t about to turn her back towards him , it would mean instant death.
“Caroline is it? How delightful.” he said, never stopping his attack.
“Captain Caroline Forbes, pleasure to make your acquaintance. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d rather leave the epilogue to this story for another time.” she answered, parrying his sword with style, and smiling all the while.
Taking a step forward, he parried her strikes until her back was against a wall; their faces so close their lips almost touched, he whispered “I’m not very much into leaving things to chance I’m afraid, so I don’t think I’m letting you go so easily. I quite enjoy you love.”
“I apologize, but I don’t feel the same,” she shrugged and headbutted him hard enough he stumbled back, without giving him a chance to get his bearings, a pirate from behind him hit his head with the hilt of his sword knocking him out.
“So being the pirate I am you’ll have to forgive me for not playing fair. Bye, random soldier, you were slightly entertaining.” Caroline said unapologetically, and as she walked away from the sinking ship she blew him a kiss.
XXX
- 3 Years Later -
The bar was full; yelling and cursing abound, pirates and less respectable folk hanged around making their messes and getting drunk - the usual merrymaking with the casual fist fight, after all their blood ran hot and their brains slow. Caroline sat in the corner, drinking peacefully and not minding the usual ruckus - completely alone with her thoughts - although her crew was never too far from her. Some of them were scattered throughout the place always keeping an eye on her - lest she make trouble and the wrong person ended up dead or worse .
Pirating had been her life since she was but a child, thriving in it, loving it. A deadbeat man who happened to be a semi-famous pirate didn’t make for much of a father, but in turn she got a big family - yes, they were pirates, rough and mean, but they loved her as if she was theirs and took care of her when her parents didn’t. It was no wonder she followed their lead, gained as much knowledge as she could and went her own way; some of them sticking with her when she put together her crew, some stayed with her father, and others she had met along the way, becoming as important to her, as any other crewmember. So of course, everyone was protective of their Captain, mostly because she was the one that kept them all together, and for most, their savior and family. They would lay down their lives for her faster than the rum runs out on a pirate’s ship, because they had no doubt she’d do the same for all of them.
So when a man approached her, they all took notice and were ready to jump in, if necessary , but he didn’t seem to care about how they stared at him, and Caroline almost smiled at his carelessness. Not even looking up, she took another sip of rum and ignored him.
“This is a rather glum welcome for someone you almost killed, I think I deserve something a bit more exciting, wouldn’t you say love?”
That voice - she knew that voice - it stuck with her for some unknown reason. The way it coiled around someone’s heart in its fake innocence, and squeezed it until it stopped, was something unforgettable. No matter how brief their encounter had been, she had never managed to shake him off, “I kill a fair amount of people.”
“I bet you do, but it seems you failed to do the same to me.”
Looking up she rolled her eyes, “I wasn’t trying to kill you, if I was I would have stabbed you, but I didn’t . At most, you can say I left you to die.”
“Ah yes, how truly kind of you.”
“The point is moot, you’re alive and well, aren’t you? If you came for a rematch, sorry to say I’m not in the mood.”
“Not at all, I just came to pay a visit. I couldn’t forget you, and now that I’m going to spend more time in your waters, and hopefully will run into you more often, I just thought I needed to pay my respects.” smirking, he winks and mockingly bows, “Goodbye love.”
“Captain Caroline Forbes!” she insists; Caroline wasn’t a fan of the pet names, and she deserved recognition for who she was, and what she had accomplished.
“I would think you’d rather be called Captain Caroline Sparrow , but I guess I was wrong. Not a fan of your dad I suppose, guess we have that in common.”
“Who are you ?”
“I’m Klaus, just a lowly pirate.” he said, walking away, and leaving her in utter confusion.
A navy man turned pirate, and someone that knew who she truly was? Klaus was proving to be more dangerous than she had anticipated, and she was slightly intrigued. Whether he was friend or foe, Caroline would figure out eventually, and if she was being honest she was looking forward to meeting him again. Klaus , a lowly pirate he was definitely not. No worries, they’d meet again.
XXX
“Are you sure this is the right Island?”
After weeks of sailing they had reached their destination. The voyage had been rough; the winds had been against them, the storms almost never ceasing to torment them, and the sea as always, the fickle lover, that gave and took at its whim. It was an enormous Island, - apparently deserted, but you never knew - the trees seemed to engulf the whole island, the sight was slightly terrifying and in part mesmerizing, although the energy surrounding it was ominous and strange. She was sure .
“Yes Bonnie, I’m sure. Believe it or not I can read a treasure map.”, it was a bit old and fragile, but still readable, and Caroline would never make such a rookie mistake.
“It’s not the treasure map I have issues with, it’s that old compass you stole from your dad; it doesn’t even work properly.”
Feeling a little attacked, by how she clung to sentimental things - even if they were pretty useless - Caroline tried to stop that topic of conversation, “You worry too much, you’re a pirate now, live a little .”
“Says the person that likes planning everything perfectly, and gets mad when something’s out of place.”
“I am...flexible.” as Bonnie stared holes into her soul, Caroline gave in, “Fine, I’m just emotionally attached to this compass, and even if it drives me crazy sometimes, I can still work with it.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Bonnie smiled, shrugging at her little confession; after all she knew Caroline better than anyone else, and would always be there to make her see reason when emotions blinded her, and to let her be emotional when she closed herself off. It had been a lonely life, before Caroline had found her, and Bonnie wouldn’t trade the freedom of pirating for anything else.
Rolling her eyes, Caroline changed her attention to all of her crewmates, “Gentlemen, ladies, and all in between, we have reached our destination. This treasure shall be ours for the taking.”
“What about the curse? ”
“Enzo, since when do you care? Besides, every treasure is cursed, precisely because no one wants it stolen.” Caroline answered, not in the mood for superstitions.
“Come on Captain, you’ve seen things, you’ve heard stories, from all those years spent on that ship.”
“Even if that were true, for the one treasure that is actually cursed, there are thousands that are not. So we will be going , you can stay and take care of the ship if it pleases you.”
“As if I’d ever let my dear Captain go to dangerous places without me, who will have your back if not me?” Enzo winked at her, he’d follow her to the end of the Earth if he had to. If not for her, he wouldn’t be alive after all.
“Bonnie, or really anyone else, although I can take care of myself too.” Caroline joked.
“Now you’re breaking my heart.”
“You’ll get over it. Pirates, prepare the boats, we’ll be departing soon.”
XXX
As soon as her feet hit the sand, Caroline felt something was off , and drew her sword instinctively. Her crew, as always, following her lead with no questioning. She went forward carefully, not knowing what could pop up, but feeling certain that something would.
What she wasn’t expecting to see was Klaus - and a few other people she couldn’t recognize as quickly - run away from the forest and towards them, with seemingly no intent to battle them. Everyone seemed afraid of something , but not Klaus, he looked intrigued, almost delighted with the situation. Caroline wasn’t sure what they were running away from, but she wondered if Klaus had a death wish, always finding comfort in the midst of horribly dangerous situations. Not that she couldn’t relate sometimes - to emerge victor when the odds were against you, was an indescribable high.
The sight that followed was something completely unexpected, and for some reason - maybe the absurdity of it all - made Caroline laugh. Skeletons, walking - well, running - skeletons were chasing them, and very effectively killing the slower ones. Her crew stared at her in disbelief and she stopped laughing, grounding her feet and ready to destroy those measly bones.
“Hack away at them, until all their joints are disconnected and they can no longer move. And if that doesn’t work, burn them. If that doesn’t work, well...we’ll go from there, if it comes to that.”
“I was right after all Captain, the treasure is cursed.” even Enzo was surprised by the validity of his concerns.
“If the only curse is the treasure being guarded by bones, we’re in luck, because I am not giving up my bounty for something as silly as this.”
“Aye aye Captain.” they all screamed in unison.
Klaus’ eyes and hers met, and he smiled, knowing that somehow she had his back, and if not, she was welcome to try and stab it. Turning around, he started fighting those monsters once again, only one other person staying behind with him, while the rest of those fools ran away.
“This is the last time I listen to you, I told you this treasure was not to be messed with. I warned you. I even showed you a million better things to steal or do, but no, you have to go where you might be killed. Nik, you’re an idiot.”
“Says my reckless little brother. You still came.”
“I thought if you should die, it must be by my hands.” Kol said ducking, swinging so hard the skull of the thing went flying off.
“Thank you, that’s comforting at least.” Klaus grunted, trying to push off two skeletons from him at the same time.
Cutting an arm off, Kol pivoted out of another monster’s way, taking both of its legs off and then its head. By now he was huffing and puffing, tired of this dance he needed more excitement, something interesting to talk about, “This wasn’t just about the treasure, it was about a girl as well, wasn’t it? The blonde tasty little thing you were staring at? You knew she would be here, and wanted to take her treasure, taunt her, and eventually bed her. Not sure you understand how courtship works, but doing that would probably get you a slap, not sex.”
“Watch your tongue, before I remove it.”, Klaus had been growing more irritable with each word out of Kol’s mouth, and imagined it was his face on the skeleton he was currently skewering and smashing to pieces.
“I’d like to see you try.” Kol taunted, the exhaustion almost ebbing away compared to how much fun it was teasing his older brother.
From the corner of his eyes he could see Caroline swing her sword with incredible accuracy, taking down monster after monster, as if she was almost dancing to the sound of the wind. For a second he got distracted by the vision that was her, and got nicked by the rusty sword of one of the skeletons attacking him, not even flinching he kicked the thing back as hard as he could, and kept fighting. Knowing now wasn’t the time to have his attention stolen by the enigmatic pirate, that consumed his every thought.
XXX
Everyone was exhausted, but things had seemingly calmed down; the monsters seemed to be gone for good - but Caroline was not about to let down her guard, not just yet. It had been surprisingly easy to fight off, and she didn’t trust any of it. Suddenly, all her fears came true; people started falling down, for no apparent reason. She had to be strong, to not show any weakness, she was their Captain after all. It wasn’t easy though, seeing her crew, her family, on the sand groaning in pain. Bending down, Caroline checked Enzo’s forehead, it was deathly hot, once again having to swallow her fear, she then checked for any injuries and lo and behold, a scratch on his neck pulsing black.
“How bad is it?” seeing the look on Caroline’s face Enzo continued, trying to lighten the mood, “Is my face still pretty?”
“Was it ever?” she joked along, smiling in relief. Looking around, she saw Bonnie taking care of everyone she could get to, giving instructions to anyone still standing; getting up she gave two soft slaps on Enzo’s face, “I’ll be back, don’t move.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Bonnie was special , there was a little bit of witch in her and if there was ever any problem, Caroline trusted no one better to figure something out. Pulling her away from everyone, Caroline said, faking optimism “I’m here for some good news.”
“Turn around and come back later, I don’t have any for you.”
“Bonnie.”
“It might be poison, it might be mystical, it’s probably a bit of both, and I need time to figure things out.”
“I don’t think they have much, and I’m not losing anyone. Tell me what to do, and I will get it done.”
“We need to leave. If this is supernatural, it will probably be purged from their body when they get far away enough, and I’ll figure a way to deal with the poison. We shouldn’t stay here any longer.”
“People have died, I am not leaving without that treasure. Grab everyone, put them in the ship and I’ll be back shortly. If I’m not here in half an hour, leave.”
“You’re the Captain, we’re not going to leave you stranded here. You have to come with us.”
“I’m the Captain, and I’m ordering you to follow my orders. Do it, Bonnie.” Caroline said, but couldn’t help but whisper her true feelings, “Please .”
“Fine, if you’re not back in time, you’ll swim back even if it kills you.”
“Sounds about right.”
Hugging her Captain, her friend and family, Bonnie whispered, “ Come back. ”
“I will . Go.”
Readying herself, she took one last look at her crew, and walked into the forest of death. They needed this gold, and by the Gods, Caroline would get it. Curse or no curse, her blood was too strong to die here.
XXX
“I’m not leaving without the treasure.”
“Nik, are you daft? We need to leave, you’re hurt and I’m not carrying your arse out of here.”
“I’m fine, I’m not on the ground am I? I’m going.”
“Well then I’m…” Kol’s eyes caught sight of the most intriguing woman, and his basest desires won out, “sadly, not going with you. It seems my help is needed elsewhere. Good luck brother.”
He felt for the poor soul who had to deal with his brother, but at least it wasn’t his problem anymore. Looking around Klaus saw Caroline leave, and followed her. Maybe he’d leave this cursed island not with one treasure, but two.
Jogging to her side he teased her, “Why would you leave without me love? Thinking of stealing that pesky little treasure for yourself?”
“If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead by now, some appreciation would be nice. The bounty is mine, and I’ll kill you before you get close to it.” her smile was cold, and razor sharp.
“I just thought it dangerous, you walking around all by yourself, what if more skeletons appear, or god forbid, something infinitely more nefarious.”
“Something like you?”
“I wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you.” Klaus said honestly, and the truth behind his words stunned even him.
“As if I could ever trust you.”, Caroline was a pirate, trusting people came sparingly and with difficulty and Klaus used to be from the navy - her enemy .
“I happen to be a very trustworthy chap, ask anyone.”
“You must think me dumb, but that pretty face of yours won’t fool me.”
“You think I’m pretty?” flirting, he stood in front of her face, - his fingers lifting her chin - inches away from her open lips.
Slapping away his hand, she kept walking, “I think you’re dangerous.”
“Dangerously pretty?” he was fairly certain, that out of the two, Caroline was infinitely more dangerous to him than he could ever be to her, but he still felt the pull to her side and the truth of the matter was that he always was partial to a little bit of danger.
“I would rather be attacked by a dozen monsters than deal with you. You’re exhausting. ”
“Then why are you smiling?”
Caroline hadn’t even noticed she was smiling, “I wasn’t, you’re delirious.” after looking up at him she saw how pale he looked, sweat dripping from his forehead in an unnatural way, “Actually, you do appear quite sickly.”
“I’m fine, we have gold to find, let’s move quicker.” it was his turn to try and change the subject, but he doubted she’d let it go.
“Wait a second.” she grabbed his hand - it was hot, and sweating - and pulled him towards her, reaching up to feel his face, “ You were hurt too .”
“You’re imagining things, sweetheart.”
“I bet I could kill you right now, without breaking a sweat.”
“Is that so? Want to bet?”
Rolling her eyes, she kept walking, “Stop distracting me, I don’t have time to deal with you. If you fall down, I’m not dragging you back with me.”
How could she be worried about someone she hardly knew, someone that could be quite irritating and more than a bit dangerous. It didn’t matter, she would keep an eye on him; just her luck having to take care of someone else when she was tight for time.
They walked in silence for a while, until she spoke up again, “Did you manage reach this far?”
“Now you have time for me again? I’m honored.”
“Ugh, fine.” he sounded like a child sulking, and Caroline was not in the mood to deal with anyone’s tantrum.
“No, we were pretty much attacked as soon as we walked into the forest.” he answered truthfully, his words falling on deaf ears as she was so concentrated on her ancient little treasure map.
“There it is.” Caroline said excitedly, her map never once betraying her expectations. It was a waterfall, behind it there was supposed to be a hidden cave, and then X marked the spot. Going in, both of them got drenched, there were several chests, and for one second she got reckless, and walked forward with her guard down. The ground buckled under her, and suddenly she was falling into a pit full of spikes, until a hand grabbed her arm.
“Careful there, don’t go dying on me before our re-match.”
“You saved me.” she couldn’t believe it; not that he had saved her, but that she wasn’t as surprised as she should be. In the depths of her being, Caroline thought Klaus’ words carried weight and honesty - that he’d never betray her, and that made him even more fatal.
“You sound surprised.” he said strained; his fever had been going up and his strength down since they had begun their little adventure, and only with his willpower he pulled her back out.
Caroline lied, “I still don’t trust you.”
Klaus laughed, of course, even after all this, she - a pirate - didn’t trust him . “How are you going to take all these trunks with you? The most I can take right now, is a few coins.”
“I’ll take what I can, as long as I don’t go back empty handed, I’m fine with it.”
Opening up the chests, - carefully - she filled her pockets as much as she could, and filled her sack as much as she could carry; it was heavy, but she could handle it. Klaus on the other hand, couldn’t carry as much, but still took a pretty good haul. Caroline should be thinking that he’d still find a way to double cross her, and steal her bounty, but she couldn’t even fathom it anymore. She was in trouble.
XXX
He was basically dragging himself along, trying to look strong and failing miserably, trying to keep up with her. Suddenly, Klaus dropped to the floor, and Caroline stopped in her tracks, “Get up Klaus, I told you I’d leave you to die. You’re not doing this.”
He was completely unresponsive, and she considered it, she really did - she was a damn pirate, for Gods’ sake - but she couldn’t go through with it. Dropping her very lovely sack full of gold, - she cried a little - and put his arm around her neck, dragging him along with her.
“I will kill you after this, I promise.”
Caroline reached the beach, and they weren’t there. She had taken too long, and now Klaus would probably die. Throwing him on the sand, she sat next to him. She knew he had to have a ship, but he wasn’t awake, and he obviously didn’t have enough time for her to go look for it, and his cowardly friends might have stolen it anyway, so what was even the point?
Waking up, his insides felt like they were on fire, his head as if it was splitting apart, and he thought this really might be the way that he died - how bland . Still, he noticed Caroline by his side, that she hadn’t left him behind after all and smiled, and that surprised him - she did have a soft spot for him after all.
“Sparrow, I have a dying wish.”
“To die by my hand instead? Because if you call me that again, that’s what will happen.”, she half joked; he was still alive, and all of sudden she didn’t mind him calling her that name, it was inconsequential.
“Being killed by you doesn’t sound all that bad. But no, just one kiss from the most beautiful and fascinating woman, I have ever met.”
“She sounds delightful, I’d love to meet her.”
“Caroline, we both know you’re not against it, so stop pretending. I’m dying anyway, it won’t hurt you.”
She felt for him, and she knew kissing him would hurt her for a multitude of reasons, but she couldn’t let him die without ever tasting his wicked lips, and so she granted his wish. Caressing his fevered face, her lips touched his dry ones; it was soft and kind, as if sending him off to the next world with tender love, and not consuming passion.
She regretted it, as soon as someone cleaned their throats behind them.
“I told her not to interrupt, Nik. That you would rather die in the arms of your lovely angel of destruction, than to be rescued, but I couldn’t stop her.”
“You didn’t think I’d actually leave you behind.”
“Bonnie!” Caroline basically ran into her arms, and hugged her.
“Still in pain over here.” Klaus said; his head hurt even more, now that Caroline had basically let it fall helplessly against the rough sand.
“I’ll help.” Kol said tiredly, picking his brother up.
XXX
- A Few Days Later -
“Are you feeling better now?” Caroline asked, feeling his forehead - it was colder now but still warm.
“I’d feel better if you k-”
“Well, I need to go check on my crew, so you have fun.”
Grabbing her hand before she could leave, Klaus laughed, “I’m just kidding love, we have time for that later.”
“I think you’re still delirious.” she commented, sitting back down on the bed, next to his lying body.
“You enjoyed that kiss as much as I did, Sparrow.”
“That only happened because you were dying.”
“Then I will just have to do that, again, and again, and again, until you can be honest with both of us.” he shrugged unconcerned, near death wasn't as terrifying as not being able to be by her side and bask in her light.
“Good luck with that.” Caroline laughed, wondering if his words rang true, and anticipating his future actions.
Their hands were still linked, and he kissed the back of hers tenderly, “We have time, and we both know you value my life more than you do gold, and you’re a pirate.”
If he was offering, she had no reason to refuse. He was right, she had chosen him; his life had more weight in her heart than the gold she needed, and so returning the favor she kissed his knuckles, “Then from now on your life is mine.”
“It has been since the day you almost killed me.”
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alwaysaprilia · 7 years
Text
Captain Swan AU Prompt Series No. 5 (D)
No.1: Alphabet City
No.2: Of Singing and Streaking
No.3: Lie to Me (I’ll lie to you, too)
No.4: Like Toy Soldiers
No. 5 (A): We’re Going Down Swinging Part 1
No. 5 (B): We’re Going Down Swinging Part 2
No. 6: Bend, and Don’t Break
No. 7 (A): Speak Now Part 1
No. 7 (B): Speak Now Part 2
No. 5 ( C ) We’re Going Down Swinging Part 3
No. 4: Like Toy Soldiers Part 2
No. 8 (A) It’s Always Been You (And You Should Know That)
No. 9: The Art of Remembering
No. 10 For Your Consideration
No. 8 (B) It’s Always Been you (And You Should Know That)
We’re Going Down Swinging- Part 4
Present day
Something has shifted at camp, and it takes no special powers to see it. As the summer gets hotter, the anger and tension between Killian and Emma cools. It starts slowly, and simply-
 (-working together to square away the boats and ropes after sailing lessons, rather than leaving their fellow counselor with all the work in a bid to get as much distance between them as possible. Though silence still reigns between them, it's an easier one, more peaceful, a sharp contrast to the tense, suffocating version from the beginning of camp.
 -Killian saving a grilled cheese from the breakfast rush because Will and Viktor are bottomless pits and Emma, also a bottomless pit, always gets hangry and irritable if she doesn't have a mid-morning snack. He says it's to keep her from annoying him. She says nothing except rumble her thanks as she eats, smiling sheepishly at him between giant bites when he is no longer looking.
 -Emma stopping by his afternoon water-skiing lesson, and dropping off a freshly chilled water bottle because he's always been terrible about drinking enough, along with a tube of sunscreen, because he's even worse at that. She says it’s to keep him from bitching and moaning about his sunburn during the campfire at night. He says nothing, save smirk and toast to her retreating back as she stalks away. 
 -they arrive at meals together sometimes, and then more times, until they arrive together more often than not. They still do not sit by each other, but no one misses how the distance between them at the table gets smaller and smaller each time, and how conversation, previously avoided like the plague, slowly starts to trickle through-)
 -before progressing to a point that Ruby, observing Emma and Killian chivying their band of trouble makers into some semblance of order, working in tandem, never missing a beat, words, smiles and laughter flowing easily between them, comments on how it was almost like a blast to the past, a scene right out of high school. She's quickly shushed by Elsa, as if calling attention to the two might upset the delicate balance they have managed to strike, and perhaps such care is warranted. For all the improvement between Emma and Killian, the past and whatever happened between them is still soundly ignored, with all the characteristic determination that is both their hallmarks. 
 Mary Margaret sighs and murmurs that it can't be healthy, while David silently nods his agreement. Regina rolls her eyes and reiterates for maybe the thousandth time that it's high time the two grew up and got over whatever high school drama drove a wedge between them. Robin simply shakes his head at that statement, because he knows as well as she does that asking Emma and Killian to get over each other is akin to asking someone to move an ocean. Viktor and Will simply up the stakes in their betting pool, because they know the truth as well as everyone else does-something big is going to happen soon. Whether it's good or bad, that, no one can tell, but they all know it's coming, as sure as the sun rose and the moon waned.
 ...No one mentions the looming end of their time at camp.
********
 When things come to a head, it happens in the most cliched way ever- a good deed that did, in fact, not go unpunished, an old injury aggravated, ending with Killian and Emma alone in an empty cabin, with the latter forcing the former to take his shirt off, spurring events that should have happened long ago to finally take place-but that's a little further ahead. 
 At present, it's Games Day, when the campers complete for glory in their own mini-version of the Olympics, and they are at the last event.  
 Killian is stationed at the climbing frame obstacle, near the top, ready to give a helping hand to the kids who need it. Grace is almost over, has one hand gripping the edge and is bringing her other up to join it-when she slips. Screams echo around the course, but Killian throws himself over the edge, and manages to snatch the falling girl’s wrist. Emma, near the bottom on the other side, feels her heart leap into her throat. She’s climbed the frame and is by Killian’s side in under a minute, reaching over for Grace’s other arm. Together, they pull the crying girl safely over the edge and guide her down the other side and to the first aid tent, where the diagnosis is thankfully a case of mild shock, a lightly sprained wrist, and nothing more.
  The campers are taken into town for a movie night and a sleepover in the town's museum, a chance for the junior camp counselors to have a break and enjoy some time among company solely over the age of 18. In between roasting smores and grilling hot dogs, wrapped in warm and familiar conversation with the other girls, Emma notices that Killian barely moves his left arm, and constantly rubs at his left shoulder. It’s the same one that Brennan Jones had dislocated when Killian was 11, was frequently abused in high school during his time claiming football team glory, and she knows it’s given him trouble constantly since. The day’s events had probably set off the old ache, a suspicion confirmed when she hears him wave off David’s concerns with a smile that doesn’t quite hide that he’s in pain. Her eyes narrow immediately, and it’s not long after that that she disappears from the bonfire, intent on locating something she needs to put that particular situation to rest.
 It never occurred to her that an entirely different problem would rear its ugly head.
 ********
 Later, Killian walked to his cabin alone, and noted how strange it was to see the building so quiet, so still, with the campers away in town. The ache in his shoulder had escalated into a fierce throb, so much so that even the mystery of where Emma disappeared to so early could no longer hold his attention, and he'd decided to retire.  Across the small clearing was the Bad Blood girl’s cabin, and from its windows blazed out a cheerful light, which at least answered that particular question, and he stared in its direction, motionless, a direct contrast to how his thoughts swirled. It was of little surprise when they settled on what appeared to be the topic he simply had no power to keep away from, no matter how many years had passed: Emma Swan. 
  Even now, when things between them were better than they had been all summer, her presence was hardly soothing when he was in the best of moods. She got under his skin just as easily when she wasn’t trying to as she did when she was, and he'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to hold himself back from slinging his arm around her shoulder or engulfing her in a hug or other decidedly less innocent gestures that he didn’t want to think about. 
  It was a problem that had only grown the more time they’d spent in peace. Though the rational side of him knew it wasn’t Emma's fault at all, this electric awareness he'd always had of her, right now, with his shoulder a constant nagging pain only adding to his frustrations, the most likely thing that would result from seeing her would be an argument. The best thing for everyone would be for him to withdraw and tend to his injury in private. It would give him time to gain a little more control over his impulses-or make the attempt at least. Semi-convinced, he turned towards his own cabin, and ignored the sentiment that he would rather have been going the opposite way. He frowned as he realized that when it came to his former best friend, it seemed like he was doomed to never be able to do what he truly wanted to, and for the life of him, he couldn't work out exactly whose fault that was. 
  Further musings were interrupted when he entered the single room, for several things happened at once. He sighed in relief at the glorious, beautiful, silence, and then jumped about a foot in the air when his bedside lamp switched on without his input, flooding the space with light. Once his eyes had adjusted and his heart had resettled into its normal position, he swore long and viciously, partly from shock, but mostly because Emma was there, on a chair next to his bed, (-of course she was), rendering all his best intentions moot, as always. He was only halfway through a list of all her most annoying qualities when apparently fed up of his tirade, the subject of his ire got to her feet, and walked right up to where he still stood and ranted. Her expression was schooled to project boredom, but the light that always preceded trouble when they were younger flickered in and out of her gaze. 
  "I'll make you a deal," Cutting across him like he hadn't been speaking, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll own up to all of my apparent shortcomings, in front of our friends and do all your chores for the next two days, plus my own-if you give me a high five with your left hand, right now. If you can't...you'll have to do as I say for an entire half hour, no arguments. What do you say, Jones?"
  She uncrossed her arms, and one eyebrow lifted in challenge in unison with her right palm. Killian glared darkly and at least ten seconds ticked by before he attempted her dare, an endeavor that was a total failure, just like the maddening girl had known it would be. Unexpectedly, Emma didn't smirk in triumph, nor did she gloat. Instead, what looked suspiciously like concern flashed through the familiar green of her eyes, and those she rolled magnificently as she dropped her waiting hand.
  "Christ. Would you stop being so ridiculous? Get on the bed, already."
  She might as well have announced that she was secretly the princess of an enchanted wonderland and the savior of entire realms. His mouth dropped, and although he wanted to deny it, the choked sound that had been far too loud had definitely come from him. He mouthed soundlessly for several long moments, while Emma pursed her lips to keep from laughing, before she finally took pity on him and pulled the small bottle of lavender essential oil from her back pocket, waving it under his nose. It was a flashback, Ingrid's method of choice to relieve aches and pains, a preference passed on to Emma, and a reminder of so many times she had kneaded out his sore muscles after a game. Before he could think about it much more, he nodded, turned and walked to his bed, facing slightly away from her to hide cheeks that had flamed crimson.
  Emma's amusement didn't last too long, especially once she noticed that Killian would be unable to deal with his shirt by himself. It was hardly the first time she had taken off a man’s clothes, but she couldn't explain the hesitation before she moved to him, the way her fingers trembled as she reached for the hem he’d managed to drag halfway up his torso, or the tingle that raced through her at the contact with his skin. Her reactions made no sense, and so Emma fell back on habits she'd mastered...ignoring the hell out of them.
  Killian jumped at the feel of fingers brushing along his back, too absorbed in the struggle with his t-shirt to have heard her approach. He spun around in time to see a flash of embarrassment and uncertainty dance on her face before a businesslike mask fell over it all. 
  "It'll be easier if I help." Her defensive words barely had time to register, similar to how he barely had time to protest, because while it might be easier for her, for him it would be torture, but Emma was too quick. In the next instant she'd pulled the soft cotton up his body, off his head and for the second time in less than ten minutes, he stood there gaping stupidly while she seemed completely above it all.
 Running through his mind was all the thousands of ways he had imagined this moment playing out, (-how her shirt would quickly follow his, how he'd thumb off the button on her jeans or tug the skirt off her waist, how there would be laughter and heat and sweet anticipation, how he would savor every glorious moment until his body finally covered hers, how she would hold him near, so close they would be unable to tell where she stopped and he began-)  and he cut off the dangerous line of thought with effort, focused instead on the irony of how different reality was. Had he been a little less distracted, he could have taken comfort in the fact that Emma was as discomfited as he, and was quite unable to pry her eyes from his chest. As it was, the best he could do was cough awkwardly, turn away from her even more, and toe off his shoes. 
 "Uh..Thanks. So-how do you want me?"
 This time, it was Emma who made the strangled sound, quickly squelched, and she ignored the funny look he sent her way, settling down on his bed. 
 "Just-sit upright in front of me. Facing away," 
 Her tone, pitched a little higher than usual, was Killian's first clue that perhaps he wasn't the only one having difficulties, but he hid his small grin, and did as requested. Emma stared at the expanse of his broad back before her, and allowed opportunity for the more sensible side of her to take over, because seriously what the hell was she thinking? Killian was quite capable of doing this himself, she really should just leave him the bottle and beat a hasty retreat to her own cabin before she did something even more stupid than say, take his shirt off, but it seemed like she'd lost control of her body. Instead of standing up and fleeing, she'd uncapped the bottle instead, and was now shaking a substantial amount of the oil into her palm. 
 Somewhere, her sensible side was groaning in defeat. Somewhere else, the devil in her was cackling with glee.
 For his part, Killian shifted impatiently, and silently debated the wisdom of the situation, an internal discussion that grew more and more unruly as time went on and still Emma made no move. He had halfway convinced himself to speak up and call the whole thing off when she finally put her hands on him. If he jumped slightly at the contact or breathed in sharp, neither of them mentioned it. 
 Emma started off gently, her touch so uncertain and fleeting that Killian's earlier reservations came roaring back, but then her grip changed, the pressure increased, and the groan of relief that escaped before he could stop it was borderline indecent. It was the ice breaker they needed-Emma laughed out loud this time, and at the bright and happy sound Killian relaxed instantly.
 "Keep it together, Jones. Think of the children."
 Killian's eyes fluttered shut at the respite her massage was bringing and shook his head. 
 "Even if the children were here, it's their fault I'm in this mess in the first place, so I think they'll understand, Swan." The words were grumbled, but there was no real ire behind them, and both of them knew it, with the exchange fading into small smiles. 
 They spent the next several minutes in companionable silence, and the mood was light and easy, as if they had somehow carved for themselves a pocket of time and space away from the rest of the world. She changed the pressure of her touch according to the shift and play of his muscles, the way his breathing deepened and went shallow, the tiny encouraging nods he gave her. Despite the rather uncomfortable start to his current situation, Killian felt at ease for the first time that day, the ache in his shoulder diminishing under her touch. 
 "Do you remember the weeping willow at the edge of park, the one we used to spend hours playing on?" His voice was a low, relaxed murmur, and although typically, a trip down their shared memory lane would make her hackles rise, Emma smiled at the question instead, her voice as equally soft as his.
 "Of course. Like I could forget the tree you almost fell to your death from?" 
 The wry comment made him laugh and he gamely endured her light reprimand to keep still. "You're being dramatic," he accused her, feeling even more of his muscles go lax. "I wasn't even ten feet off the ground, and I managed to catch myself, thank you very much."
 Emma rolled her eyes at his smugness, before she continued to knead at his skin. 
 "Barely, Jones. Right, turn around, I'm done with this side."
 In hindsight, she probably should have given that request a little more thought, because when Killian readily complied, she found she was much, much too close to his naked chest. More than that, she was not even a little prepared to have him watching as her gaze jumped wildly from the slope of his shoulders to the dusting of dark hair on his chest to the column of his throat in a desperate bid to find some safe place to look. 
 Get it together, Emma!
 The voice sounded eerily like Lily, come to drag her out to gym again, and she allowed herself one deep, breath and a quick prayer to whoever was listening as she started to massage his shoulder once more. Emma kept a laser focus on the front of his shoulder this time, intent on a particularly tight knot, and hoped he hadn't noticed her freeze.
 "What...what made you bring that up?"
 Unfortunately for her, Killian had noticed her falter. Fortunately, however, he was far too occupied with going through a similar reaction himself to make any comment on it, completely distracted with the realization that she was closer to him than she had been in years. The waltz they had shared called for proper distance, one that certainly didn't exist between them now, as he sat Indian style, and she in turn had her feet neatly folded under her thighs, her knees almost touching his shins. He could see every freckle on her face, could smell her sunscreen, sweat and traces of something floral that combined was altogether too alluring. He'd narrowly avoided the temptation to stare right into her eyes only by being focused on the tendrils of hair that had strayed from her bun and lay against her neck. The next few moments were spent fighting the itch to twine them back to join their fellows before he realized she had even spoken. 
 "Jones?"
 "What? Oh. Right. I just realized that I must have been a really shrimpy kid then, because I pulled my shoulder that time too, and the pain wasn't this bad." Amusement curved his lips upward, and he told himself he felt nothing when he saw the matching grin steal across Emma's lips too. "So either Grace weighs more now at age 10 then I did at age 12, or-my pain tolerance levels have dropped."
 Emma's grin shifted to a smirk and she shook her head. "When we were 12, I was about a foot taller than you, so it is definitely the former. Don't you remember all those school pictures when you had to be always been in the front? And how Ms. Wells would always try to cast you as an elf?"
 Apparently she remembered well enough for the both of them, and Killian shot her a flat look as the unpleasant memory resurfaced. It held only momentarily, because she'd started to giggle and he couldn't help but laugh with her instead. In the next moment, she got a little more aggressive in her efforts and he winced in response, with Emma immediately pausing in concern.
 "Sorry. Was that too much?"
 "No-it was good." He motioned for her to keep going. "Don't stop."
 Emma studied him, as if confirming he wasn't only displaying a brave front and then she shrugged and did as instructed. Killian took the opportunity to study her in turn, with no danger of being trapped by her eyes.
 "You're probably right,"
 "I'm right about a lot of things." The smart response was delivered with a flick of her gaze to his, her voice filled with amusement. "What are you talking about this time?"
 "That I was just...small for my age back then. I probably have the same tolerance for pain, and maybe even more now." The moon could be seen, full and bright outside his window, and for the first time, Killian looked away from Emma. "If there's one thing I've learned so far, it's that I've been built to endure a lot of it."
 It was the offhand way he said the words that got to her. His tone had still been lighthearted, and he'd obviously not meant to start any serious discussion, but Emma's hands faltered in their rhythmic motion, and then slowed until they had stopped altogether. Killian, curious at the interruption, shifted to look at her and found that she was already watching him. 
 Emma sat stiff, because even if she hadn't been able to see the truth of his statement in his expression, she still would have known that he was right-she had been there after all, through most of it, until the day she hadn't. She could not apologize, even now, even when she acutely felt their temporary reprieve collapsing under the weight of the past. She still could not bring herself to say the words 'I'm sorry I left", not when they would be a lie. Instead, she smiled sadly, breaking their stare and moving her hand to the middle of his chest. 
 He pulled in a breath at the contact, and forgot to let it out again. Or maybe it was her who ceased to breathe. Regardless, neither of them moved nor spoke until she tapped once.
 "Not surprised." Blue clashed with green, and Emma's smile was small, but genuine as she continued. "You always did have a strong heart."
 Killian's breath caught at the butterfly touch and his heart stuttered to a stop at her words, because for once, there were no walls up between them, no cutting remarks meant to incense and offend to keep the other away. Although some part of him whispered a distant warning, the rest of him roared louder. He had realized this for the opportunity it was, the one he should have had years ago. So he could react in only one way as she made to lift away her hand-by reaching up with one of his own to trap it in place instead.
 Emma tensed, gaze flitting from her hand wrapped in his, still held closely to his chest, to his eyes. They glittered with too many things to properly decipher and the look in their depths instantly put her on alert. Still, after valiant effort, she managed to keep her voice calm and collected, not at all betraying the furious hammering of her heart.
 "I-kinda need that. Will you let go?"
 "I will." It sounded like a promise, although it did nothing to make her feel better, and his next words only intensified the dread that crept through her. "If we can talk about one thing."
 Emma's heart continued its unsteady pound. Despite the fact that her sensible side was screaming bloody murder, advising her to snatch back her hand and get the hell out, now, the words were out before she could stop herself. 
 "What thing?"
 Inwardly, she cursed, for she had always been a touch too daring, too curious for her own good, and something told her that this time she would not escape unscathed.
 "The last night I saw you." 
 Killian watched as she froze, and with the confirmation of her worst suspicions, Emma recognized the sticky feeling that welled up in her as panic. If there was anything in the world she wanted to talk about less than that night, nothing came to mind and she shook her head immediately.
 “No. I…I don’t want to talk about that. It’s…it was such a long time ago, and-I don't know about you, Jones, but I'm actually enjoying the fact that we can go two hours without trying to rip each other's head off now." The attempt at humor was accompanied by a smile that felt strained, even to her, and matched her tone exactly. "Can’t we just let it be?”
  Killian searched her face, deliberating, and for a brief, glorious, moment it looked like he had granted the reprieve...except he hadn't.
 "I can't. It's been eating me up inside for years and I can't...I can't do it anymore."
 In his last six words was the pain from the three years that had gone by, from the wounds dealt by her departure, left to fester, fed by regret and pain. He spoke quietly, but still Emma flinched like a thunder clap had echoed through the room. 
 "Please let's not do this." 
 "Do you know what it was like, those first few weeks?" Her whispered plea fell on deaf ears as he asked his question, eyes haunted, desolate, and she couldn't look away. "We had no idea- I had no idea where you were, if you were safe-I had no idea what had happened to you. Did you hate me that much at the end, Emma, that you couldn't even let me know you were alive?"
 It was the height of irony that she would have given much over the summer to have him look at her with anything but contempt and irritation, and now that he was, now that she could see the depths of hurt and sadness she had left him with, she wished he would go back to pretending she didn't exist. Her shoulders slumped, her gaze dropped to the bed between them, and when he sensed that she wouldn't leave the moment he let go, Killian did just that. 
 "No, of course I didn't hate you." Her exhale was shaky, and she met his gaze for only a brief moment before she looked away again. “I could never-that's not it, that's not why I left,"
  "Then why?" Killian tried to keep his voice calm, but it was akin to trying to hold back the tides. "Christ, we'd been together practically our whole lives, Swan, we were best friends, we were family, and you just left without saying a word-"
  She laughed, low and incredulous, and he swallowed hard at the sound, unable to continue, especially when she started to speak.
  "I didn't say a word? I remember it quite a bit differently, Jones, I remember saying a lot actually, and maybe it was too much, because at the end of it...what else was there to say? The last night I saw you, I just about ripped my heart out of my chest and gave it to you on a silver platter and...you said you didn't want it." 
 Emma glanced up, a brittle little smile on her face, and shrugged as if that night hadn't torn her world apart, like it hadn't sent her into a tailspin that had taken years to recover from, if she ever had at all. Her voice shook as she continued and she forced herself to ignore that particular bit of self-reflection.  
 "You said you didn't want me."
 Killian recoiled as if she had snapped a whip at him, but now, Emma was victim to an unstoppable flow of words and she could do nothing to bar the tide. 
 "If there was anything that summer taught me, it was that I was barely strong enough to function when I didn't have you at my side, so sticking around and watching you fall in love with someone else? After I'd spent years wishing and hoping it would be me, waiting for you to see me like that-even if I didn't know that's what I had been doing, I-I couldn't-I needed to leave. I needed to show myself I could still stand on my own, that I could still be alone...that I could be without you. Because by then-I didn't have a choice, did I?"
 It was fascinating, the play of emotions across his face as she had spoken, cycling from regret to hurt and sadness then stopping at anger that had his eyes blazing and hard. She couldn't look away. 
 "So then you decided to leave, did you, and in all your hurry to be alone and prove something, you never once thought about what that meant for me? It never once occurred to you that you were leaving me alone too?"
 "You had Milah-" Her emphatic statement was cut off by his outburst, frustration clear in every word.
 "Milah wasn't you, Emma! She wasn't there when my father was beating my mother and I to a pulp and I was too bloody scared to tell anyone about it! She wasn't there each time that bastard got cleaned up and came back and then left despite all promises not to! She wasn't there the time my brother went missing and I almost went out of my mind! She wasn't there for the most fucked up parts of my life, but you were, you were the one to help pick up all the pieces and get my shit back together, you were the one who told me I could be more than just the boy from the wrong side of town, you were there. You were always there." He was tired and defeated at the end of it, his words quiet, the look on his face damning. "Until you weren't."
 The accusation hung like a blade between them and Emma shook her head, a weak denial against the words they both knew to be true.
 "Don't do that, don't you dare-" Her eyes burned but the glaze of tears didn't fall, she would not let them. "Do you think it was easy for me? Do you think I enjoyed it? I left everything and everyone I had ever known, and -"
 "You didn't need to go at all!" Killian interrupted hotly, his blankets curled into his fists at his side. "You could have stayed, you could have talked to me-"
 "Like you talked to me that night you mean?" It was Emma's turn to flare up, her face carved into tense lines, jaw locked and eyes blazing. "When you couldn’t even-fine. You want to talk so badly, Killian? Then let's talk. Tell me why. Explain to me why you couldn't love me like I love you. Talk to me now, like you couldn't talk to me back then."
 It was as if they had been transported back in time to that terrible night years ago. The empty parking lot and her faithful car had been replaced by an empty log cabin and a bed but Killian hadn't changed, he was still looking at her with that strange mixture of emotions that rippled past too quickly for her to understand, with the silence and regret building, the air growing thick. Now, just like then, his expression was softening, and she knew, she knew he was going to reach for her and that could not happen, she wouldn't be able to think if he touched her. Emma jerked away, as unable to withstand it at present as she'd been in the past, especially once she realized her fatal slip...
 ...explain to me why you couldn't love me like I love you. 
 Self-preservation kicked in, and the urge to flee grew stronger, because some things, it seemed, would never change. Killian Jones was still her kryptonite, somehow capable of making her forget promises she'd made to herself, effortlessly breaching her carefully constructed walls. She needed to leave, she needed time to process, to recover from the fact that she might just have revealed her greatest secret- 
 Emma mustered her strength, and retreated behind the thinnest veneer of calm she'd ever made in her life. She placed the bottle carefully between them and then stood, slipping her feet into her flip flops.
 "Right. That's what I thought. Keep it, I'd apply once more before you sleep. I'll see you around."
 She held herself together quite admirably in her opinion, despite the fact that she was all but running for the door. She had it halfway open before a hand reached out from behind her and pushed it closed, and Emma gasped, then spun round. Killian was right behind her, and at least now, there was no mistaking the emotion in his eyes-it was anger, fierce and unyielding. Effectively cornered, there was only one option left: attack.
 "What the hell do you think you're doing Jones?"
 "No more running, Swan." His left hand lifted to join its counterpart on the door, caging her in and Emma would have cautioned his use of it, especially at the slight spasm of pain that passed over his face, but she was too irritated now.
 "Excuse me?"
 "You heard me. No more running. You went all the way to the other side of the country three years ago, where will you go now? Alaska? Indonesia?" He shook his head and took another step closer. "I'm not taking that chance, not this time. You wanted to know about that last night? You wanted to hear my side of it? Then you're going to have to stay and listen."
 Emma was ready to tell him to go to hell. There was a withering reply on the tip of her tongue, one that would have told him in no uncertain terms where to stick it, but then the belligerent set of his jaw relaxed, and his whole frame sagged. The blue eyes that had been filled with angry fire just seconds before were now soft and pleading. He looked much more like the scared and exhausted version who would turn up after each night Brennan Jones had been particularly drunk than the snarky and sarcastic one she'd been butting heads with all summer. 
 She didn't move as he dropped his left arm. She didn't breathe when he took her hand captive again, and twined his fingers loosely through hers, his touch gentle and unsure, as if trying to hold the wind. 
  "Emma, please. Please don't go. Don't leave. Not again." 
 At that point, it didn't matter that for most of summer, they had barely had a conversation that didn't involve sniping, sarcastic tones and cold words. In the middle of their first real conversation in years, he had lost all his pride, and wasn't above begging.
 "Killian-"
 "What if I told you-what if I told you that you were right that night? What if I lied?" Killian swallowed, and watched as the implications of what he was saying registered. He watched her eyes widen, filling first with confusion, and then spark with suspicion. "What if I told you that I felt the same way? That I always-"
 "Stop it, just stop!" This time when she snatched her hand away, he let her, even as he silently hoped she wouldn't walk away. "What is this, you feel sorry for me, so you're telling me what I wanted to hear back then? Is this supposed to be a joke?"
 "No, Swan, it's not. Just, listen, please, if you listen to me now, I promise I will never bring it up again,"
 The words were almost a mirror image of the ones she'd said to him that fateful last night. She was trapped in a vicious cycle of deja vu. Her mind was screaming at her to run, as fast and as far as she could, but it was the tiny whisper from her bruised and battered heart, telling her that they had already done that once, for all the good it had brought, that won out. 
 Emma crossed her arms, as if pulling up an armor to protect herself from whatever would happen next. Killian read her actions as acquiescence and immediately backed off, the hand that had held back the door shifting to the nape of his neck instead. Strange that he'd thought about this moment many times over the last few years, but when it finally arrived, he found himself no better prepared than the night of their very last fight.
 "Jones-"
 Killian raised a hand, a signal that begged for one more moment to gather himself. Emma huffed and then settled more comfortably against the door, waiting, but quite reluctantly. It could not be clearer that his time was limited, and so, Killian fell back into old habits: he leapt before he looked, and started to speak before he was even sure what he was going to say…
  **********
 Interlude
 - he is five years old, and his mother is crying. She's been doing so for a while now, ever since his father shoved her and then stormed out of their little house, a cloud of bad temper and the smell of liquor following in his wake. He doesn't know what to do. He's not the best at telling time yet, but he knows his big brother gets home only when the shorter hand of the clock is pointed to the seven, and it's still between the 5 and 6. He is on his own, his mother is crying and he wants her to stop, because it hurts to see her so sad. 
 His hands shake as he pours a glass of water, tiny hands clumsy and unaccustomed to handling the pitcher, but he manages and spills only a little. He has to call twice before she finally looks up at him and his glass, blinking through the tears. Her hand is as shaky as his when she accepts his offering, and she drinks and places the glass carefully to the side before opening her arms out for him. Her embrace is familiar and comforting and he shuts his eyes as she starts to hum. It's not the normal, sweet melody he's used to, but she's stopped crying, at least, and the tightness in his chest eases somewhat. 
 He pulls back a little to stare her in the face. She is beautiful his mother, and even more so, when she's not crying. He tells her the former, leaves off the latter. She smiles and thanks him, and then holds him close to her once more. Exhausted from all the tears, her last murmur before she sleeps is that he is so much like his father. He is sure (-he hopes) she means that they look alike, and not that they both make her cry, but the chill in his heart returns, because he is only 5, and he realizes his father is not a good man.
  -he is 15. School is out for the day, the weather is gorgeous, a golden afternoon laced with a cool ocean breeze, the sky blue and blazing and dotted with puffy clouds, and best of all, his best friend is laughing gaily by his side. Emma's arms swing freely, for he carries her books and his, all the better to facilitate her wild gestures as she speaks. In her hair, its stem twined through the haphazard braid she'd fixed above her ear in the morning, is a bright yellow buttercup he'd presented to her with a flourish, cheerful and bright against the gold of her tresses.
 She is describing the mayhem that the ongoing war between Regina and her half-sister Zelena for control of Storybrooke High's cheer leading squad has wrought, and though he could care less about the Mills sisters battle for dominance, he does care a lot about how much it entertains Emma. If their squabbles mean the Swan girl will spend the rest of high school laughing and amused, then he hopes Regina and Zelena will never find a truce, for his and Emma's lives had never been ones filled with constant laughter. A knobby elbow jabs into his ribs just then, and he snaps back to the present in time to see his companion pull a ridiculous face at him, punishment for his perceived lack of attention. He can't help but laugh as well and amend his previous thought: their lives had never been filled with constant laughter-save for when they are together. 
 They round the corner that brings both their houses into sight, and as his eyes fall upon the white car parked in the driveway of his home, his smile freezes. It dies completely when the driver's side door opens, and a familiar person steps out. There can be no question that Brennan Jones is his father, for he had passed nearly everything of his looks to his youngest son, except for his eyes. Those, Killian owed to his mother, and they are the only part of his reflection that doesn’t make his skin crawl. Regrets about resemblance are the last thing on his mind at the moment, for today, his father appears sure footed, and swinging off one of his arms is a grocery bag full of food with flowers peeking out the top- all signs that point to this being Brennan Jones' Sober Version, the one that was in some ways, the most dangerous one of all. This version constantly raised Anne Jones’ hopes only to dash them mercilessly when he inevitably disappeared, and the Raging Drunk that was his usual persona came back. 
 Emma notices that something is wrong immediately; of course she does, for she knows him better than anyone. Her eyes narrow the moment they land on his father, and he can tell from the way she stops and glances behind them that she is calculating how far they have come from the corner, and whether they will still be able to retreat without drawing attention. He knows from her set jaw that she has deemed it too far, just as he knows from her expression, an equal mix of determination and concern, what she will suggest next. It will be some complaint about homework, and how she will absolutely not be able to accomplish anything without him, so please could he come home with her and help her out? There might even be dinner in it for him. She picks history to whine about, slowing her steps to a reluctant plodding, and it's all very transparent but Killian is weak and he is tired of seeing that hopeful light bloom in his mother’s eyes only for it to disappear when his father disappoints her as he always does.
 So he agrees, and stops short of actually drawing level with his house, where Brennan, having spotted them, now waits. He sends Emma on with a promise to be there as soon as he tells his mother where he is going to be, and when Emma departs, he squares his shoulders, approaches and gives his greetings. Brennan doesn't acknowledge him at first. His father's eyes track Emma's movements with interest, and immediately, his own hackles rise. His best friend is lovely, and only growing more so still, but if his father even thinks of going there...he calms down fractionally when Brennan meets his gaze and he sees only honest curiosity in their depths. He answers the questions in short order: yes, that is Emma Swan. Yes, she's still his best friend, and yes, she's grown quite tall. 
 Killian's skin itches at how the look in his father's eyes has turned speculative, and especially at how he grins knowingly when he asks if the buttercup was from him. He doesn't wait for the response before he claps his son genially on the shoulder and turns to head into their house. The Jones men seem to favor flowers when wooing women, he says, and it's heartening to see that like father like son still very much applies to them. The words lodge an ice pick in his heart because he is 15, and he wants to be nothing like his father.
  -he is 17, and he's had just a little too much to drink. Storybrooke High's football team has ended their season the conference champs, victory delivered on David's and his shoulders, and they are sure to be co-captains when their last year of high school begins. For now though, thoughts of the future are far from his mind. At present, he is more concerned with why the bloody key hole keeps jumping from place to place and why there are suddenly four of them, when the door to the house opens and Killian falls in a heap at his older brother's feet. He groans, for the key hole is not the only thing that has multiplied, and his older brother's disapproving face dances around him in fours.  
 Liam sighs at him, he thinks, he can't exactly tell, because he's telling him about the ridiculous game he'd just played, and won, aching shoulder be damned. He remembers at the last moment that Liam had been at the game, made a special trip from Boston just to see this last one, and they had already celebrated, just the family, a little earlier on in the night, so he hardly needed the play by play, but it's worth re-telling he thinks. 
 By the time he's done, Liam has helped up into his room, telling him to keep it down, for their mother's bedroom isn't too far away. He has regained enough of his facilities to apologize for being a pain, he'd not meant to drink so much, but Emma had been at the party and they'd been challenged to defend their beer pong crown. Swan never backed down from a challenge, and therefore, neither did he, hence his staggering home at this hour. Liam smiles, he thinks, and merely helps him out of his varsity jacket and his shoes, before tucking him in like he's six bloody years old and Killian secretly loves it. 
 Not that he'd ever tell. 
 Before Liam leaves, he hovers at the door, and Killian manages to inquire what he's forgotten. His brother says nothing for a long time, and then only shakes his head and tells him that this little episode aside, he's extremely proud of Killian, because despite his worries, he's shaping up to be quite the young man. It's a nice thought, strong enough to overpower the fleeting question of what Liam was worried over, and Killian falls asleep with a happy glow that has nothing to do with alcohol. When he wakes the next day, he is still 17, with a hangover as fierce as his headache, and as he empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet, he realizes what had worried his brother so: the realization that at 17, he might be more similar to his father than he had thought. 
  TBC.
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fuckyeahbadcodocs · 7 years
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Name: Mira 'Paws' Cole
As callsigns go, I don’t think Paws is half bad. It’s not as grandiose as some that stumble through this door, not edgy and hardcore... It sounds like the kind of nonsense a military faction would hand down to the new kid.
Appearance: Height- 5"9. 
There is a desperate need for more lady OCs who are not like 5′2″ every time. I can at least salute the creator for this...
Weight- 134. 
...And a sensible weight for someone in the military! A little googling tells me this BMI is in the normal range, if on the smaller side. No one has to give this OC a sandwich for her to run out and kick some tail.
Eye color- Emerald green. 
Mmm, unlike my fellow mods, I don’t think using specific descriptors for eyes is a dealbreaker or special snowflake. There’s a lot of shades of green out there. However, I would maybe pick something other than a precious gem to describe a character’s eye color. It’s become a bit of a dead horse at this point.
Hair color- Dark brown.
So far, everything is really good, very low-key. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop to explain why the hell this OC is doing on this page.
Where she serves- U.S. Army Ranger
Recent as it may be, women are slowly entering the ranks of the Rangers through the school, if not actually able to serve in its ranks. Assuming some level of research was put into what it would take for a female OC to break ground like this, we might be onto something.
Now, if you’re all prepared, the other shoe drops... now.
Position- Hired medic/Assassin
Well, medic OCs are old hat at this point, but as long as there’s real research and a plot, I’m not totally opposed to someone examining a side of canon that isn’t totally defined by missions and frontline action--
Wait.
A medic’s first rule is to do no harm... and she is an assassin. Does anyone else see the glaring lack of fundamental understanding of how the military works in that statement, or just me? I’m sure at some point in history or another, a killer has used the disguise of a medical personnel to get closer to a target, but that’s not exactly military standard, not in this day and age.
For that matter, why is the US Army hiring assassins when they have some of the most elite fighting forces on the planet? Any one of Ramirez’s team could easily take up a sniper rifle and hang out for a few hours waiting for a good shot. The Army does not need assassins in the classical sense. It would be much more sensible if this OC was freelance, PIC, or maybe even part of a CIA that is far darker than the average Modern Warfare civilian accounts for.
But for your baseline US Army attache, this is going well over the line. It renders basically all past praise I put upon the OCs design nearly moot. I can’t even imagine what an international DISASTER it would be if an American medic was outed as a professional, government-sanctioned assassin. It would change the face of warfare, totally flip centuries of regulations about medics and their role on its head. Everything would just go to absolute shit if people trusted to heal and stay out of trouble came out as paid professional killers operating with their government’s blessing. 
You can make an OC interesting without relying on secret identities or shocking swerves, or defying basic military roles that leave little hope for a character being an assassin.
History: Mira had never thought she could go to war-and at least experince anything, But now she's been sent over to work as a medic. She'll meet anyone and (oddly) enough; everyone. 
The Rangers, Shepherd, Allen, these are characters I can understand an OC rubbing elbows with, given the game and faction in question. Maybe even  a brush with Team Metal, if you want to broach MW3 and the fact both Rangers and Delta fought against the Russian invasion on the East Coast. Everyone, though? That’s pushing it. The 141 and the Rangers are never anywhere near each other in game proper to allow for meeting ‘everyone.’
Is Mira surprised? Kind of. Sure she has some crushes on certian people. But this is war, not the love boat. 
As opposed to OC/Canon shipping as many people are, so long as it’s not the focal point and overshadowing a much more interesting plot... I personally see no problem with mentioning a character might be interested in someone else. Especially if it’s buffered with the fact ‘hey there’s a war going on, let’s not worry about our alleged sexual tension and instead focus on not. fucking. dying.’
None of this excuses the walking International Shitshow Waiting To Happen, but it’s a surprising touch.
She also earned the name nickname 'Paws', from the wolf paws tatooed and her back, and two small ones on the back of her neck.
That’s not usually how callsign assignments work, it’s usually more of a callback to a memorable incident or a personality trait. 
For pure hypotheticals, let’s say Soap once slid off of something during training, or is very thorough about ‘cleaning’ out a room when on ops. Either of these things might lead to teammates alluding to him as ‘Soap,’ either due to his slippery fuck up, or his sheer ‘cleaning’ power. It’s not like teammates looked at Soap’s haircut and just decided ‘You’re Mohawk now.’ There’s more to callsigns and military culture than that.
Personality: Mira is a kind, gentle, and calm soul. But if somthing goes wrong; she; like Dunn would freak out just the same. 
For both of her preposterous careers, staying cool is a part of the job description. 
A medic has to know how to perform under intense pressure, when the lives of their patients are on the line, sometimes in the middle of a firefight. The military medic career is not one you want to freak out in. 
Assassins must master the art of planning -- entrance, loadout, the exact moment they take down the target, and an exit strategy. They have to be veritable ghosts, leaving no trace of themselves, and with the patience to wait sometimes days for one brief moment and then a quick way out. A freak out at any stage of an assassination is a surefire bullet in the chest at best and a trip to a black site in your target’s home country at worst.
Also if shes meant to be calm why the hell would she freak out when a plan goes to shit? Why does everything about this OC oppose prior information?
She has an affectionate side, but tends not to use it. Theres moments where she can be totally awkward.
Why? Why any of that? I know I harp on explanations in just about every review I do, but I’m just really passionate about OC creators explaining to their audience how and why things work. Personality traits existing at odds with one another are a good reason to have explanations in your profile. If this OC is kind and gentle, why hide her affectionate side? Is she perhaps uncomfortable with overt displays of affection, while still being super sweet and kind to people? Is there a disconnect between her professional personality and her off-duty persona?
Hell if I know, that’s all that’s said for me to analyze.
Also, how awkward are we talking here? ‘My mouth sometimes moves faster than my brain’ awkward, or ‘I was apparently raised in a cave and have no understanding of several normal every day things’ awkward? Much like there are many different shades of green, there are many different flavors of awkward. 
Secrets: Mira is a So-Called 'Assassin', as she describes herself, but is labled as a Sniper by others(As she states during Modern Warfare) but tends to lie when someone questions her. 
A sniper is not an assassin in the classical sense. A sniper is a part of many military teams, and is in fact basic in certain circumstances. A sniper is a legitimate specialist and would never cross over with medical corps.
A lone sniper might well be an assassin, but a sniper on a military team is usually just that: a sniper. Not an assassin, sure as hell not a medic, but definitely a person who is good at waiting, communicating with their spotter, and shooting OpFor as needed.
This might come as a shock, but I don’t think this OC makes much sense, guys.
On that note, why the hell is she in the original Modern Warfare? The American faction in COD4 was the Marines, not Rangers.
She comes to the Army Rangers (In Modern Wafare 2) posing as a Medic, but still serves as a Sniper, she them keeps her position as an Assassin in Modern Warfare 3, where she is seperated and is now on the hunt for Vladimir Makarov.
If she ‘comes to’ the Rangers in MW2, who was she with originally in MW? Was she supposed to be a freelance assassin that the US Army looked at and said ‘good enough for us?’ I really don’t get this bit, I’m sincerely confused by the sequence of events now.
As for MW3... That’s just poor writing and we all know it. The implication Ramirez and company are out taking the Kremlin, and this OC gets separated from the real party. I’m offended for her.
Other: She hates the way anyone treats attack dogs, she has a way to avoid being attacked by them. In this case, she carries treats to throw them off. Even the most vicious dog can be strayed away when confronted by Mira.
No. No, actually, they can’t. These dogs are broken and remade into fur-covered death machines that exist only to destroy whatever they are pointed at. There is nothing you can do to ‘stray’ them, let along with treats. Maybe if you throw them fresher meat than you, but otherwise I have no idea what would even come close to swaying a legitimate dog of war. They would eat her alive, brutally, and then turn their attention to the other Rangers.
Gory, yes. True, also yes. Attack dogs are not misunderstood babies anymore. They are straight up gone, redesigned to do nothing but kill whoever their kennel master sics them on. Kill or be killed is the only way to deal with an enemy attack dog in the middle of battle. Now excuse me, I have to go hug my own dog for a little bit.
Family: Both her parents died when she was 14, but she made friends with a kid named Chuck Seasons *Aka Chef* and the two became friends and have stayed that way ever since.
Let me guess, a member of this creators OC cadre? Did making friends with this kid cure the ache that is losing both of your parents and being made an orphan as a young teenager?
Animal Companions: Mira owns a black German Shepherd named 'Coach', after her famed basketball coach during middle school.
I’m not sure about this one, but I think this Coach guy’s parents really wanted him to be a coach.
So anyway, Mod M would like to posit this question: Why is it that the best/most down to earth designs always end up being tied to brain-breakingly out of touch with the real world OCs? For that matter, why am I always the one left holding the flaming bag that is these ocs?
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chelsorz07 · 7 years
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haven’t been on in a while because hellatus
Who is your hero? I don’t really have one IRL. The closest thing I guess would be my husband because he takes care of everything when I can’t even get out of bed, let alone get a job and contribute. My celebrity hero is Randy Owen.
If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Two years ago I would have said Nashville or central Texas but knowing now how hard it is to be away from home and how badly I want to go back, I’m just gonna say Bradford. It may be a shithole, but it’s my shithole and it’s where all my people are. If I didn’t have this late-onset separation anxiety I’d still love to move down south. Just gonna have to settle for visiting there more often.
What is your biggest fear? Missing out on my current family’s lives and never having a family of my own.
What is your favorite family vacation? I’ve only ever been on one vacation and other than finally seeing the Country Music Hall of Fame it wasn’t that great.
What would you change about yourself if you could? My psoriasis. Which, if I could fix that, I could fix the other thing I want to change: my weight. But right now it hurts too much to even walk most days.
What really makes you angry? People talking or making noise when I’m trying to watch or listen to something. The PLL finale. The writers of Shameless. Those are just the biggest ones I can think of off the top of my head.
What motivates you to work hard? Nothing. I have no motivation. I don’t even have the will to live most of the time.
What is your favorite thing about your career? I don’t have a career.
What is your biggest complaint about your job? I don’t have a job.
What is your proudest accomplishment? Honestly I don’t think I’ve accomplished anything either. I don’t really see graduating high school as a big “proud” moment. Especially considering it was so long ago and I’ve done absolutely nothing since then.
What is your child's proudest accomplishment? I don’t have children. And at this rate I never will.
What is your favorite book to read? I’ve read Looking For Alaska like four times. Other than that I don’t usually re-read a book.
What makes you laugh the most? Memes.
What was the last movie you went to? What did you think? If I recall correctly it was Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates. It was hilarious.
What did you want to be when you were small? A musician.
What does your child want to be when he/she grows up? Again, no child.
If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be? Go home and actually have enough time to see all the people I want to see. It’d be a lot easier if any of them got along with each other so I could see them all at once.
What is your favorite game or sport to watch and play? To watch: football. To play: bowling.
Would you rather ride a bike, ride a horse, or drive a car? Well I don’t enjoy any of those thing but driving a car is the only one I know how to do so I suppose that.
What would you sing at Karaoke night? Oh man, I haven’t done karaoke in SO long. I usually pick some 90s angry chick rock because I’ve seen 10 Things I Hate About You way too many times and relate to Kat Stratford before she fell in love with Patrick on a deep and personal level.
What two radio stations do you listen to in the car the most? I don’t listen to the radio because I don’t know any of the stations out here but back home it’s The Pig (country) and Hero Radio (classic rock). But I still use CDs way more than the radio.
Which would you rather do: wash dishes, mow the lawn, clean the bathroom, or vacuum the house? I love to mow the lawn. Dishes are my absolute most hated chore, followed by vacuuming. I actually don’t mind cleaning the bathroom.
If you could hire someone to help you, would it be with cleaning, cooking, or yard work? Cleaning. If I had someone to clean up the mess I’d actually like to cook.
If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? Pizza.
Who is your favorite author? Sarah Dessen.
Have you ever had a nickname? What is it? My friends used to call me Chelsorz, hence my name for everything online. But I don’t have those friends anymore.
  27. Do you like or dislike surprises? Why or why not? I fucking hate them. If it’s an activity, I need advance notice for things. And if it’s a gift, I always feel uncomfortable receiving them whether they’re a surprise or not.   28. In the evening, would you rather play a game, visit a relative, watch a movie, or read? All of them sound lovely. My relatives are too far away to just visit for an evening. I watch tv and movies all the time. I love to read but can’t afford new books right now. And I wish to Lucifer I had someone to play a game with.   29. Would you rather vacation in Hawaii or Alaska, and why? Neither. I hate the cold and the beach. If I’m gonna vacation somewhere I prefer it be in the country, down south.    30. Would you rather win the lottery or work at the perfect job? And why? Perfect job. Because I’d enjoy it so much it wouldn’t feel like a job and if I won the lottery and never had to work I’d get bored out of my mind. Like I am now. I just have no money on top of that.   31. Who would you want to be stranded with on a deserted island? I wouldn’t go anywhere near an island or any type of transportation that could get me stranded there so this question is moot.   32. If money was no object, what would you do all day? I’d probably still watch a lot of tv and do a lot of nothing like I do now, but I’d still be able to go out to eat and go to a shit ton of concerts.   33. If you could go back in time, what year would you travel to? There are things I love and hate about every year of my life. But I’d like to go back to the mid-90s being the age I am now.   34. How would your friends describe you? Bitchy, lazy, weird, boring (I’ve actually been called this by my mother-in-law. She loves me, just hates that I’m no fun).  �� 35. What are your hobbies? Watching tv, sleeping, singing. Used to be reading, crafts, playing music, home improvement, going out, etc. You know, normal things that people in their 20s do that I can’t bring myself to enjoy anymore.   36. What is the best gift you have been given? My ticket to Pittcon last year. Nothing will ever beat that.   37. What is the worst gift you have received? Who knows? Probably like an ugly outfit when I was a child. Actually no, I take that back. The past two Christmases my mother has given me some really generic shit that she knows I have no use for. And it’s not the gifts that bothered me. It’s the fact that she hates me so much that she doesn’t care to put any thought into them.    38. Aside from necessities, what one thing could you not go a day without? I used to say Rockstar but I can’t afford it anymore so...probably cigarettes. Which I also can’t afford. But Dave usually gets me a cheap carton when he goes home so I don’t go into a murderous rage.   39. List two pet peeves. Shitty grammar and talking when I’m watching tv.    40. Where do you see yourself in five years? Hopefully back home with a child.   41. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Idk 25-30 but I only wear like three. Grey booties, black slip-ons, black flip-flops.   42. If you were a super-hero, what powers would you have? Teleportation and mind reading.   43. What would you do if you won the lottery? Same shit I do now. I’d just eat better. Not better like healthier, better like more.   44. What form of public transportation do you prefer? (air, boat, train, bus, car, etc.) I wish I had someone to drive me around. In my car. Because my car is awesome but I hate driving.   45. What's your favorite zoo animal? Panda.   46. If you could go back in time to change one thing, what would it be? I’d have gone to college and gotten a real job so I didn’t have to rely on Dave for everything. Of course if I had done that I probably never would’ve met Dave so. C’est la vie.   47. If you could share a meal with any 4 individuals, living or dead, who would they be? Oh my god. Okay. IRL: My dad, my sister, my niece, and my nephew. Celebrities: Jensen Ackles, Noel Fisher, Randy Owen, and Alex Gaskarth. That’s a much weirder mix lol...also I don’t really know any dead people except relatives I never talked to, that’s why all my IRL answers are people I’d have dinner with anytime I wanted if I was home. I just wish I was home so I could.   48. How many pillows do you sleep with? There are three on the bed. But like they’re only mine sometimes. When Dave is home he has one for his head and a body pillow because he likes to cuddle, just not with me. When he’s not home, which is most of the time, I have the one for my head, then his is where I lay my right arm, and I throw my left arm over the body pillow but I don’t cuddle because that’s just a weird postition for me. Betcha never thought someone would put so much thought into a question about pillows.    49. What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)? Three or four days without even a nap. Maybe a week if I got a nap in. I’ve had insomnia since I was 14.   50. What's the tallest building you've been to the top in? I don’t think I’ve ever been in a building that had more than three floors. 
51. Would you rather trade intelligence for looks or looks for intelligence? Intelligence for looks. I already have intelligence and it gets me nothing. 
  52. How often do you buy clothes? If I’m working, whenever I feel like it. Right now, not at all. I have nine dollars in my bank account.    53. Have you ever had a secret admirer? I honestly don’t even think I’ve had a non-secret admirer. And that includes my husband.   54. What's your favorite holiday? Fourth of July. And of course I can’t go home for it this year. Also I firmly believe that Bradford’s Italian Festival counts as a holiday. I’m gonna miss that this year too.   55. What's the most daring thing you've ever done? I don’t do daring things. I hurt myself enough being careful. I don’t wanna know what would happen if I had an ounce of bravery in me.   56. What was the last thing you recorded on TV? Some Goo Goo Dolls thing on MTV Live.   57. What was the last book you read? Couldn’t tell ya.   58. What's your favorite type of foreign food? General Tso’s Chicken. Which probably isn’t even authentic but I don’t typically like foreign food anyway. I’ve only ever had Chinese and Mexican and I hate Mexican food and am very picky about my Chinese. Like it has to be chicken. I don’t even like the noodles. When we go to the Chinese buffet I literally just eat two plates full of every kind of chicken they have.   59. Are you a clean or messy person? I can’t stand messes but I also can’t stand cleaning. Probably why my house and my brain are in a constant state of chaos.    60. Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life? Jenna Marbles.   61. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? A few things to clarify. Morning is my bedtime. I only shower once a week. And when I do it takes between an hour and an hour and a half from shower to out the door.    62. What kitchen appliance do you use every day? Microwave.   63. What's your favorite fast food chain? Used to be Arby’s till they replaced all the junior sandwiches with sliders and I had to boycott them. That moved McD’s up from second to first place. Nothing beats a McDub and some McNugs. I don’t care that it’s garbage and I don’t care that fast food elitists would judge me into the ground. McD’s is my shit.    64. What's your favorite family recipe? My mom’s potato salad. It’s far superior to everyone else’s. Last time we were home I tried some that Dave’s parents made and it would’ve been okay if it didn’t have giant chunks of onion and celery in it. First time in my life I’ve pretended to like someone’s food while simultaneously trying not to regurgitate it right in front of them.    65. Do you love or hate rollercoasters? Hate. I don’t ride any amusement park rides. I go for the games and the concerts.    66. What's your favorite family tradition? Lipps family 4th of July fireworks. Which I’m missing. Thanks for reminding me again.   67. What is your favorite childhood memory? Singing all the time with my dad.   68. What's your favorite movie? Bring It On, Grind, Mean Girls, and Halloween (the original). Bridesmaids and Pitch Perfect are up there though.   69. How old were you when you learned Santa wasn't real? How did you find out? I never believed in it.    70. Is your glass half full or half empty? It’s completely empty because I’m thirsty all the time and too lazy to pour another glass.    71. What's the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of love? Waited pathetically for 18 months after we broke up for him to come to his senses and be with me again. But it worked and we’ve been together 8 years and married for two so. Yeah.   72. What three items would you take with you on a deserted island? Again, I wouldn’t ever be in a situation where I’d be stranded on an island. But in the spirit of the survey, I’d say a shit ton of cigarettes, a shit ton of Rockstar, and a shit ton of Cheetos.    73. What was your favorite subject in school? Creative Writing, English, Novel Exploration, Art, Ceramics, Concert Band, and Percussion Ensemble. And my scholar world civics class senior year because the teacher was hot.   74. What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten? To normal people this is not unusual in the slightest but it was way out on a limb for me and I’ll never eat it or anything like it again. But sushi. I absolutely hate any kind of fish or seafood but I was pressured into trying it.    75. Do you collect anything? Pandas, huskies (stuffed), and blankets.
  76. Is there anything you wished would come back into fashion? I don’t really care about fashion. I wear leggings, t-shirts, and flannels pretty much all the time.   77. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert. I haven’t even left my house in two weeks. Like literally have not opened the door and walked outside once. Not seeing or talking to people is great.   78. Which of the five senses would you say is your strongest? Well my sight is going because now I can’t see for shit at night. My hearing is crap because I’ve been listening to music way too loudly for almost 30 years. I’m killing my tastebuds with the smokes. And my sinuses are always fucked so I can hardly smell anything. So yeah. Touch.    79. Have you ever had a surprise party? (that was an actual surprise) No and I never want to. I went to a surprise party about a month ago for my friend’s 30th birthday but I didn’t yell “surprise” when everyone else did because I always feel embarrassed for the person getting surprised and I don’t want to contribute to it.    80. Are you related or distantly related to anyone famous? Not as far as I know.   81. What do you do to keep fit? Ha. I don’t. But I have lost like 7 pounds because I can’t afford food.    82. Does your family have a “motto” – spoken or unspoken? My family is barely even a family, let alone the kind to have a motto.   83. If you were ruler of your own country what would be the first law you would introduce? I have no drive and no leadership qualities. I wouldn’t want to rule a country.    84. Who was your favorite teacher in school and why? All my English teachers. I actually learned shit and I graduated ten years ago but am still friends with them.   85. What three things do you think of the most each day? Food (because I have none), cigarettes (I need to go get some), and TV because nothing else brings me joy.   86. If you had a warning label, what would yours say? Do not disturb.   87. What song would you say best sums you up? Perfect by Alanis Morissette and Weightless by All Time Low.   88. What celebrity would you like to meet at Starbucks for a cup of coffee? I wouldn’t be caught dead at Starbucks but I would love to sippy sippy with Grav3yardgirl.   89. Who was your first crush? IRL: this kid in my second grade class, Charlie, who also rode my bus. He’s still hot AF. Celebrity: Luke Perry. He’s still hot AF too and the age difference isn’t that creepy anymore.
  90. What's the most interesting thing you can see out of your office or kitchen window? Well it’s not really interesting but there’s a streetlight outside of my kitchen window that always flickers in the wee hours and it’s annoying as hell.    91. On a scale of 1-10 how funny would you say you are? 136. I’m fucking hilarious.   92. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Honestly I don’t.    93. What was your first job? Cook at a bowling alley. It’s where I met Dave and I loved the people and the free bowling but my manager was an asshole.   94. If you could join any past or current music group which would you want to join? Alabama.   95. How many languages do you speak? One.    96. What is your favorite family holiday tradition? Pretty much already answered this.    97. Who is the most intelligent person you know? Probably my friend Ralph. But he’s also a right wing extremist so he’s gonna be his own downfall.   98. If you had to describe yourself as an animal, which one would it be? Cat.    99. What is one thing you will never do again? Try to make the four hour drive home by myself in a blizzard. Lesson learned right there. In my defense, if my GPS had let me take the route I originally picked, I would not have gone through any snow and would’ve been fine.  100. Who knows you the best? Amanda. 
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