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snowblossomreads · 2 years

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Not All That Bad

Summary: In where [Y/n] slips up in class and Professor Snape has no patience for students who can't follow directions. (Requested by Anon)

Pairing: Student Fem Reader & Severus Snape (Platonic!)

Warnings: Mainly Bullying (name calling), Mentions of scratching self (not sure if this should be a warning but just in case)

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Hi! Bet you thought you've seen the last of me. An anon requested a story about our lovely professor standing up for an autistic reader who was being bullied which you can find that request here. I don't actually do requests because it takes me forever to write sometimes, but they caught me in one of my rare moods!

A/N+: Please note I'm also not autistic, so I did have to do some research and I hope that what I have in the story is okay. Do let me know if I should change something but other than that enjoy!

One of the things that [Y/n] found difficult to adapt to each year at Hogwarts was the ever-changing schedule that a student might find themselves trying to accommodate when they entered.

First years had seven core subjects and flying lessons, which could be dropped in the second year if one was tired of going to the hospital wing almost every week.

Then at the end of the second year, two additional classes needed to be added to their schedules for the next year. The only saving grace was that at least those additional classes were dealer’s choice and she was actually able to pick ones that were interesting to her.

But also there were the N.E.W.T classes which determined if you could continue to study the same things for your O.W.L classes and it just made her skin prickle and sweat each time there was a schedule change.

The ever-rotating yearly schedule was just one thing though. The other was that of course, each day was a different schedule for the classes, two one day, three the next, one the next day maybe along with study hall and then the other three to finish out the week.

This didn’t include any makeup work or labs that needed to be done outside of class nor the impromptu class gatherings or teacher's office hours she may have needed to attend to get answers to questions she didn’t get to ask.

Granted, she 'didn’t get to ask' was an understatement when she barely spoke in class and did all she could in them to not get herself notice. She was successful most of the time but there were some times when she would blurt things out like answers or thoughts that were racing in her head.

Anyways, all of that to say it took forever for her to get comfortable with the frustratingly changing schedule and lack of structure that she felt almost every time a new school year started.

Comfortable wasn’t the right word though, maybe accepting? Yeah accepting, granted comfortable could be the right word if she thought about it more, because in the end wasn’t it all just,

“Semantics!”

Being too caught up in her wandering thoughts, she wasn’t able to catch the words that slipped from between her lips out into the open in a room of students who had been listening to their Potions Master talk about the history and effects of using Veritaserum.

In her moment of panic, her hands flew to her mouth finally realizing that she had indeed said that out loud and in the back of her mind she prayed that it was low enough that no one really heard.

Unfortunately for her, the spirit of Helga Hufflepuff, was not on her side today if she considered that the sound of Professor Snape instructing had been replaced with the noise of students' clothes rustling as they all turned in their chairs to look at her.

Her fellow Hufflepuff partner even gave [Y/n] a wide-eyed alarmed stare at the sudden disruption as while it had happened before in other classes never had she slipped up in Potions.

It was one of her best subjects due to how straightforward and precise she needed to be when working on a potion as one too many stirs counterclockwise or one drop too much of something could end with an exploding cauldron.

Additionally, she appreciated the succinct manner in which Snape taught them, no frills, no open-ended answers, just facts explained in a way that gave no wiggle room for questions. It also gave her mind ease when she was able to see exact instructions on how to do things along with the charmed drawings of each step on the blackboard.

That was neither here nor there because at that point she felt all the eyes of the students and her professor on her.

While mostly a class full of Hufflepuffs, there of course were some Slytherins present in the room, and while she knew there were some pleasant people in their house she unfortunately always seemed to run into the worst of the lot. And that was no different here.

Hushed whispers and snickers could be heard from some of the students while some of them didn’t care too much about being discreet as they hurled little insults at her.

“There goes yelping [Y/n] again.”

One of them muttered to their partner who replied with an equally nasty response of,

“She’s always doing that and the other professors just let her, it's so annoying.”

Both of them chuckled at that as other Slytherins began to chime in amongst themselves throwing jokes and not-so-thinly veiled insults.

“I mean what did you expect? They always put those people in the same house.”

“Bet she’s friends with Loony Lovegood with how weird they both are.”

With each statement, [Y/n]’s gaze that was glued to the desk intensified while her fingers had begun to scratch at her thighs mindlessly. Her lips quivered downward as she began to worry at them incessantly biting at the soft flesh and in turn peeling a bit of the skin off.

She would have winced a little if she had noticed but all she could think about was each insult that was hurled at her.

Having had always been the joke of classes even when she was a kid, she always summed it up as being because she was a witch and they didn’t understand her. But even in the wizarding world, there seemed to be no room for, as some of them put it, those people.

“Silence.”

Hushed jeers and insults came to a halt the moment Snape spoke and so did her rampant thoughts. Still, her eyes didn’t leave the desktop because she could feel her classmates' piercing stares on her entire being and she refused to look up at them.

The sound of approaching footsteps on the stone floor had replaced the jeers and when she felt the man looming beside her she allowed herself to look up at him but only long enough to find a neutral expression.

Seeing that was enough to calm her a little knowing that he wasn’t, or at least didn’t seem to be as angry as he could be at her. He was a hard man to read.

“Ms.[L/n],” he started, that baritone voice more leveled than what was expected considering her sudden outburst in class. That’s a good sign, right? “Since I assume that you’re eager to tell the class about the known resistance methods that can be used against Veritaserum, please by all means enlighten us.”

As much as she wanted to answer him, because one she really wanted to show she did like his class and didn’t mean to disturb his lecture, and two she knew the answer to his question she just couldn’t bring herself to speak with all the eyes on her.

She could feel his intense gaze on her just like the gazes of her fellow classmates and all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and clench her fist against her thighs as if trying to will them all away.

One of the students saw this and he couldn’t help but let out a very audible exaggerated sigh before turning to his friends and saying out loud,

“Wow what a scaredy-cat. She can interrupt class with nonsense but gets quiet as soon as someone actually wants her to talk. Pathetic!"

A deep sneer materialized on Snape's lips as the boy stopped and he spun around eyes glaring at the Slytherin who decided he was above his Head of House’s command.

“I said silence, Scalby!” He hissed out, the relaxed body demeanor he wore morphed for a second to something more intimidating as his eyes were squarely on the boy who froze in place from the vicious look. “10 points from Slytherin seeing as you can’t follow my instructions the first time!”

“But sir I’m in your house-!”

The boy's mouth and eyes flew wide open and so did some of his classmates before Snape curtly cut him off with a,

“And it will be 5 more points if you think just because you are in my own house that you are immune from repercussions.”

Professor Snape reprimanding and taking points away from his own house, in public of all places? Now that was new. And from the looks that the Slytherins were giving each other, they were as dumbfounded as the others in the room.

Seeing that he had quelled them, he turned back around and adjusted his teaching robe a little before confusing the students even more when he suddenly got down on one knee beside where [Y/n] sat and gave her an expectant look.

“Now Ms.[L/n]?”

His question came again calm and low which soothed her a little and suppressed the utter storm that was in her brain. With one deep breath, she opened her eyes and leaned down to the side so that he could hear her and began to quietly spill her knowledge about the various methods that she had read about in various potions books that the library housed.

Each sentence had him nodding in agreement as he found no fault in her statements and honestly he was a bit piqued about how she knew so much about the potion as it wasn’t something that was common considering how under lock and key it was.

Her speech was so quiet though that even her partner had to lean in to hear so she was sure most of the other students just sat there as she whispered away.

She was sure the professor would give them the summary version anyways. So when she finished up, her eyes immediately went back to her desk as Snape stood up from his position and he began to make his way back up to the front of the class as if nothing had happened.

“You are correct Ms.[L/n],” he began up again as he let the enchanted chalk write down what he was saying, “there are indeed varying methods for thwarting the effects of Veritaserum but none are more effective than Occlumency or the taking of its antidote as you said. Very good.”

With that, he set about putting down instructions on how to make this brew while also not so vaguely hinting that he would be testing batches of the potion on them so they would be wise to pay attention.

Feeling as if her world had finally stopped closing in on her along with getting a gentle nudge and smile from her partner, [Y/n] did her best to focus on the task at hand wanting to make sure she got exactly everything right for such a tricky brew.

Time passed by quickly and before she knew it, class was ending and the students were being instructed on how to store their potions so that all the properties of the ingredients could settle.

While she was usually the first one out of the class, today was a day of oddities as she told her partner not to worry and that she would take care of their potion. She didn’t question the ask and just gave [Y/n] a nod and a little thumbs up before packing and leaving.

The classroom quickly became devoid of students as each group trickled out of the room, and when it was just her and a handful of students left, she slipped behind them in line and waited until it was her turn to store the potion as instructed.

Checking the cauldron a few times before fiddling with it once more, she gave herself permission to leave the little storage room once she was satisfied with how the cauldron was placed.

Now it was time to actually do the thing she had meant to do seeing as the class had become empty with the exception of Professor Snape who was sitting at his desk scribbling and marking papers.

It always took her time to build up the courage to talk to any of the teachers as there was always a little voice in the back of her head that would tell her they found her as annoying as some of the students.

She had actually blurted that question out to Professor McGonagall once during her office hours to both of their surprise. But that was quickly shot down with a sharp,

“Nonsense! I rather teach a hundred of you than one of the many baboons we have here Ms. [L/n]. You are a perfectly fine student.”

That little statement and the serious facial expression the older witch held when she said that made [Y/n] feel a bit better being able to see and hear this type of confirmation.

And so with that thought in mind, she found herself climbing up the few steps that separated his working area from the students’ desk and stood a bit off to the side.

“Yes?” He drawled out quietly, acknowledging her presence yet not stopping to look up and continuing his work at an even pace.

She wrung her hands a bit as her gaze dropped down to the stone floor, the bit of courage she had slowly seeping out of her with each passing second.

“O-oh…um well..,” her voice was tiny as she kept her eyes trained on the floor, examining the patterns of the stones and the trails that were made by the spaces in between them. “Well, p-professor uhm it’s just…”

Like always whenever she tried to speak, her brain and mouth would disconnect just like what was happening at that moment. And just like the trails that were on the floor, her words began to trail off and she found her fingers rubbing against the knuckles of one hand while trying to reorganize her mind.

The scratching of his quill against the piece of parchment he had been working on stopped after a few moments of silence from both of them.

“Ms.[L/n],” he spoke barely above a whisper as he set the quill down, his tone neutral, no hint of annoyance in it like so many others would have whenever she would struggle to find words like this. “While I find that you are quite a capable student, I would encourage you to speak freely.”

It seemed as if that was the push she needed as she slowly raised her head to meet her professor's stare.

“I just- I just wanted to say thank you for what happened during class that's it. I’ll g-go now.”

The words were stuttered out, reflecting her nerves, and she was already turning on her heels so that she could make a mad dash out of the room before she was stopped in her tracks by her name being called.

“[Y/n].”

She didn’t turn around as she couldn’t trust herself to not squeeze her eyes shut at her professor's gaze, a bit terrified that it would be one of displeasure. The sound of her heart beating and blood rushing into her ears was palpable and somewhere in her mind, she wondered if it was audible.

“Sir?”

Trembling lips were able to get out the one word as she waited for his response. It didn’t take long for it either and it left her a bit stunned as she processed his words.

“I trust that you know that there is nothing wrong with you and that I expect you to let Professor Sprout or myself know if any of the students are giving you trouble.”

“Professor?”

His title came out a little bit dumbfounded and she didn’t know what else to say as she tried to process what he was conveying. He didn’t give her that time though because classes would be starting again soon and he thought it wise to remind her but not without adding a few more unexpected words of encouragement

“As I said Ms.[L/n], you are a fine student. Now I would advise that you make your way to your next class, it wouldn't do well for you to be late.”

That reminder seemed to kick her into her action as she turned to him to say a quick,

“Oh! you’re right, thank you, professor!”

Before making her way back to her desk, and quickly grabbing her already packed shoulder bag not even waiting to hear his response. [Y/n] dashed out of the room and up the many stairs that connected the dungeon back to the first floor ignoring her protesting legs at how fast she was moving.

This was one of the few times she hadn’t been acutely aware of the amount of time that had passed she mused while she sprinted down the hall to her next class ignoring the looks that were being thrown at her. Yet even knowing that, she didn’t feel the agitation she usually would feel because the professor's words kept replaying in her head.

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

She had heard that line many times but rarely had she heard it said in that tone. A tone that conveyed a meaning of acceptance that she had some differences but they didn’t make her any less of a person. And she couldn’t help the way the sides of her lips curled upward a little.

Professor Snape really wasn’t all that bad.

A/N: I hope this was alright anon! I know it wasn't the full request but I didn't know how to add it without it just feeling outplace. Other than that as usual let me know if yall liked it!

#severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape fic #snape x reader #blossoms writing

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stephensmithuk · 5 months

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The Three Gables

The lack of posts on this one is a clear demonstration of the clear rejection of the racism running through this story.

I can't say that I'm particularly enthusiastic about doing this one, but I can't pretend this one doesn't exist.

Here we go then:

First published in 1926, the Americans again got this one first.

Boxing for money was heavily regulated to the point of outright bans in much of the United States; illegal fights would frequently end as "no contest" when the police turned up.

The Bull Ring in Birmingham is a major shopping area that goes back to a market established in 1154 under royal approval. The area is named for a ring of iron that bulls were tied to for the purposes of bull-baiting, a 'sport' banned in 1835.

The area was redeveloped in the 1960s into an enclosed shopping centre considered an epitome of Brutalist architecture and which became more unpopular over time. It was replaced in 2003 by a more modern centre, branded "Bullring" that is just as controversial.

Harrow Weald is a suburban area of what is now Greater London. It still contains a large amount of ancient woodland despite major development in the early 1930s, such as Harrow Weald Common.

One highly notable resident of the area was W.S. Gilbert of operetta fame, who lived at a house called Grim's Dyke and died of a heart attack in the lake in 1911 while saving a 17-year-old girl from drowning during a swimming lesson. The lake was mostly drained after that and what is left was filled with algae during my visit to the area early this year - the London Loop footpath goes through the area.

The "Weald Station" is probably, as per Bernard Davies, Harrow & Wealdstone station. This is today the northern terminus of the Bakerloo Line, which reached there in 1917 when services were extended on the newly electrified lines to Watford Junction; London Overground services call there on their way to the latter destination. LNWR and Southern services also are available, while Avanti West Coast and Caledonian Sleeper trains go through without stopping on platforms generally closed unless a train is calling there.

The station was also the site of the worst peacetime rail disaster in British history in 1952 (only the 1915 Quintinshill rail disaster has a higher death toll) - an express train collided with the rear of a local train in fog and then another express train hit the wreckage. 112 people died and 340 were injured. Since the crew of the express train died in the crash, the precise reason why they failed to respond to two signals was impossible to establish. The result of the report was a faster introduction into service of the Automatic Warning System or AWS that gives a driver an in-cab indication of the state of a signal by visual and auditory means.

A two-station branch line to Stanmore Village closed in 1964 as part of the Beeching cuts.

Paregoric is a 4% tincture of opium, then available over the counter without prescription. Its main uses would be for treating diarrhoea, treating teething pains in children and as a cough medicine. It is today a Schedule III controlled substance in the US i.e. prescription only.

Crown Derby refers to Royal Crown Derby, a porcelain company founded c.1750 and still going today; it may be the oldest still active company in that field in England.

Langdale Pike is clearly a pseudonym, referring to a series of peaks in the Lake District.

This is, fortunately, the only time we have the n-word being used in the canon. It was considered a crude term even then.

Pernambuco is a state in NE Brazil, then a centre of sugarcane cultivation, still a major part of its economy. It was historically Portuguese, not Spanish.

Yes, let's stereotype Latina women, shall we, Mr. Doyle? I'm not calling you Sir Arthur in this discussion; you're not acting like a knight.

This whole thing leaves a rather ugly taste and if I could strike a story from the canon, I would do it for this one.

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #history #factoids #acd canon #the three gables #3gab #an utterly racist story

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narrans · 4 months

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The Orion's Daughter : To Lands Beyond | Chapter Eight : I Am My Father's Daughter

**~~~~~**

Chapter Eight | I Am My Father’s Daughter

**~~~~~**

My feet pounded against the ground. Every breath filled me with a new sense of strength and life. I knew I was fast before, but this almost felt unreal. The sun beat down against the ground. When did it rain last? I didn’t know, but the sea of golden fields and harvests around me said that the seasons had finally changed, and it was time to go and do and explore new things.

For the past few moons, Steele has been teaching me everything he knows. Sure, Mehlein has done wonders for my learning the common tongue, but Steele’s knowledge has put me in a whole new world of learning. From history, languages, earth sciences, diplomacy, and combat, I felt like an entirely new person. Even the strength training he has been putting me through has made me stronger and faster than before.

As I sprinted down the dirt roads, my bare feet pounding the ground like drums of war, I felt faster and more precise. I glanced down at the path as I ran, remembering the last time I made this trek.

I had been back in town only a couple of times since that day when Steele took it upon himself to start training and teaching me. I mostly went with momma to Kendel’s shop and then back again, Steele waiting for us in the distance. There was no opportunity recently for me to go and listen to story time at the school, but I didn’t really think I needed it with Steele and Mehlein’s lessons.

As we were there, I could have sworn I felt those boys’ eyes on me, waiting for a new opportunity to strike. I didn’t like staying away from the town. It made it feel like that gang of punk thugs had won or something. They probably spent time bragging about “driving the Illy out of town,” but I was ready this time.

If they provoked me, I wasn’t defenseless this time. I was ready to defend myself if necessary. I wouldn’t start a fight. Steele told me that there was no honor in starting a fight unless it is to protect someone who needs it; and, even then, the other person provoked the fight in the first place by picking on that other person.

I didn’t need to slow my pace as I ran into town today. I didn’t feel winded in the slightest, which was another testament to Steele’s training regimen he had me on.

There were groups of families out and about enjoying the warmth and finding ways to keep cool for the day. Many of them congregated by the town wells and the watering troughs for the animals. I remembered Steele talking about him possibly digging and setting some kind of area for everyone to go and wade in the water, but he also told me that would be something he did in the spring.

As I ran, some of their comments reached my ears. It was nothing new. Many of the statements were the same, though there was an added statement as I sprinted past their critical eyes, their disapproval practically coming off of their bodies like waves of heat from the stones in the street.

“What is she doing running around like that?”

“Where is her mother?”

“What in the heavens is she wearing? Are those… britches?”

“Pants? On a little girl? How uncouth!”

Yes. Maybe it was “uncouth” for me to be wearing the garments of a little boy, but they wouldn’t be so bold in their statements if they tried it for themselves. Running in a skirt always made me feel like I was going to trip and eat a face full of dirt in the process. Plus, with Steele’s recent regiment of training, pants just made more sense. I practiced in skirts and dresses, but my recent attire involved me wearing an oversized button down and a pair of pants that came to the middle of my shin.

Momma had recently taken to wearing pants as well. Her position as the Orion’s Factotum back in the city actually had her wearing pants of sort under her skirt, which I supposed was the appropriate combination for a woman who was involved in physical labor.

I let their statements roll off of me like water off of a duck’s back. After spending so many hours with Steele, talking to him and hearing his thoughts, I realized that everyone else’s opinion didn’t really matter. If it was from someone whose opinion I valued, I needed to heed the information they provided. Otherwise, the snide comments from everyone else didn’t matter.

All I could do was live my life as happily as I could, and no one had the right to take that away from me, just as I had no right to take their happiness away. Only when physically confronted or publicly criticized did I have the right to defend myself.

And I was okay with that.

Besides, I had more important things to do today.

All of the herbs and stones I collected and exchanged for coin finally amounted to something. Steele and I spent some time expanding my collection, drying certain herbs and learning their uses, but now I wanted to learn more. Steele’s knowledge of herbs only expanded so far, and I needed to learn more.

So, I decided it was time – I was going to go buy a book.

I had learned just enough from Mehlein to sound out and read on my own, but we did not have a lot of books at home for me to practice with. The retired bookman and scholar let me look at his books when I was over at his house, but I was not permitted to take any of them back with me, Mehlein cherishing the books in his collection.

It was okay though.

I knew which book I wanted.

The cobbled stone streets burning my feet, I continued my sprint down road after road, dodging glances and families until I finally made it to Kendel’s shop. The moment the door swung open, the smell of warm herbs and spices invaded my senses. The air felt alive with scents lingering through the air.

I walked across the squeaky wooden floorboards until I made it up to the counter where Kendel was sitting quietly and counting beans to put into his measured jars for fall harvests. The moment he saw me, his soft green eyes brightened from behind those oval spectacles on the edge of his nose.

“Well! Sprout! Good ‘ter see ye’,” he said with a smile and a twinkling wink. “Wha’ brings ye’ by the shop t’day?”

“Hello Kendel,” I said, feeling my spirits brighten. I hoisted my pack onto the counter and fumbled with the leather latch for a moment before opening the pack. “I have a new collection of goodies for you.”

“Oh? Well, I’d better ‘ave a look see,” said Kendel as he quickly wrapped up his current project and tilted the contents of my bag out onto the counter. Several bundles of dried wood sorrel and yarrow tumbled out as well as three wrapped cloths of scarlet moss. A few stones were in the mix as well as two small jars of seashells and teeth from our few excursions to the ocean and the beach.

Kendel’s eyes widened when he spotted the scarlet moss.

“Ah! Sprout! Wher’d ye’ ge’ dis?”

“A field in the sun off of the glade by the cliffs. There was a whole field of them,” I said, beaming with the impressed gleam in Kendel’s features.

“Well, I will ‘ave ‘ter go an’ find it for myself. Dis’ is some quality,” stated Kendel as he began fishing out various coins and setting them onto the counter. “An’ ye’ even saved da’ roots!”

“Steele showed me a few tricks,” I said with a smile. “I thought you would want a few to plant in your window since you don’t have any.”

“Aye’ sprout. Yer’ right ‘bout ‘dat,” smiled Kendel. He continued to set coins onto the counter until he gave me what was owed. “Well? Is ‘dat all?”

“Actually, not yet. I saw your book over there,” I said as I pointed to one of five identical books on Kendel’s shelf. It was one of the finely pressed books from the city, pressed in leather and fine lettering. Mehlein had a book exactly like that, and he let me read through it a few times. It had useful herbs, sketches, and descriptions of the plants and where to find them as well as their uses. Though Mehlein was reluctant to part with his copy, I now had enough coin to purchase one of my own.

“Dis’?” asked Kendal as he pulled one of the books from the shelf as he brushed those few pesky wisps of brown-white hair away from his eyes. He eyed the coins on the counter and then looked back at me. “Dis’ ‘ere is seventeen Dalers.”

I felt like I had just shoved a cotton plant in my mouth. Twenty-seven? Yikes! That was horribly expensive. I only just broke thirty that I have saved up. Granted, I haven’t been trying very hard to earn coin, but that is still more than half of what I have.

Still… this is important. I can use this to collect more plants and herbs. I can practice my reading.

I need this.

I bit my lip and forced myself not to wince as I divvied up my coins. I fished out my fifteen Dalers and then, painstakingly, I counted out every single one of the seventy Mons, which was two Dalers.

I was still walking away with other coins, but my bag certainly felt lighter than before.

As I worked, I noticed Kendel looking back over his shoulder from time to time toward another shelf where I had seen him writing many times before. I wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but I understood after a moment when he set down the book of herbs as well as a small journal bound in leather and a coal-stick.

“‘Ere ye’ are sprout,” he smiled. “Plus a lil’ sometin’ extra for te’ one ‘yer gonna write. Use it well.”

I looked up into Kendel’s soft green eyes and saw him beaming with pride. Absolutely giddy all over, I carefully took the journal in my hands and splayed the pages. It was absolutely stunning from cover to cover. The book itself was aromatic and the pages were perfect and deckled along the edges.

“Oh, Kendel. This is beautiful. Did you make this?” I asked. Kendel nodded.

“Perhaps I’ll show ye’ sometime ‘ow ter’ make one of yer’ own,” stated the shop owner.

A book? More learning?

I could have been walking on clouds!

“Thank you so much!” I said, raising my voice a little too loudly in excitement as I bounced on my toes, carefully wrapped up my new treasures, and fastened my bag onto my body, making sure it did not interfere with my belt with my knife affixed to it. “I promise I will put it to good use. And I want to know how to make these very soon.”

“Tha’ is a promise to ye’ sprout,” said Kendel with a wink. I waved good-bye to him and headed back out into the blazing heat of the day. Part of me wondered if story time was going on, but the other part was anxious to start reading my brand-new book. I never had one new before, and I was going to make sure this one stayed in pristine condition.

Sadly, that would have to wait. I had a few errands to run while I was in town, and then I would have a chance to sit and delve into the book.

I made my way to the market, picking up a sack of potatoes, some fresh vegetables, and even a bit of meat with the allowance momma gave me. I even had a few spare coins to get her some ribbons and spare cloth fragments as well as a few new needles and some thread I thought she would like.

With my haul in tow, I shoved everything into my bag, potatoes in the satchel by my side, and headed back toward home. Running with the bag was a bit awkward, and I needed to take a few breaks while I ran through the town, but I was managing for the most part.

As I slowed for the second time, catching my breath and readjusting my bag, I heard them.

Jul and his thugs.

He emerged from around the corner, just like before, and the others were not far behind. I glanced toward my back and saw the three others starting to surround me. My heart started to pound as my senses set me on high alert. I gripped the potato bag a little tighter and placed a hand on my bag that carried our food and my precious books.

“Hey Illy. What are you doing here?” asked Jul as he sauntered up within a meter of me. I tensed my core and continued glancing out of the corner of my eyes to make sure I wasn’t being snuck up on. I didn’t shy away from Jul’s glance this time though. This time, I stared into those dull eyes of his as I braced myself for whatever encounter we were about to have.

“Go away and leave me alone, Jul. It’s none of your business what I am doing here. I have every right to be in town, just like you,” I said with a spit.

“Oh, that’s cute,” teased Jul.

“Please,” I said, trying to stay neutral and calm. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to go home. Now, let me pass.” At this, the boys roared with laughter.

“Really? You think you have a right to be here, Illy?” sneered Jul.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” jeered another.

“Do Illy even need things here?”

“You have a home?”

I repeated my momma’s phrase over in my mind as I listened to the chorus of taunts.

Water on stone. Beat me to the bone. Your words run right over me.

I remembered Steele’s words as well. I needed to tell them I meant business without my words sounding like a threat.

“Leave me alone, Jul. I’m not helpless like last time. Let me pass and we won’t have a problem,” I said, daring to take a step toward Jul, closing the meter distance between us to a third of the distance.

Then, something odd happened.

Jul’s eyes widened and he backed away a single step. Confusion set in his features, and I felt mine do the same.

Was he just… intimidated… by me? I wondered. I pushed that thought away from my mind as I maintained eye-contact with him.

“I-is that so?” he asked, trying desperately to regain his composure.

“Yeah, that’s so,” I said, not daring to blink. My heart started pounding harder and faster. My entire body felt like it was tingling, but I stayed focused.

“Are you threatening me?” he demanded. I felt a bit of a smile curl onto my lips, which only made his eyes widen a little more.

“No, I am stating a fact. You will regret it if you and your boorish friends don’t get out of my way and stop pestering me,” I said. I don’t know what was possessing me. I felt empowered and terrified at the same time. It felt like I was faking, bluffing my way out. At the same time, I knew more – and I could probably take them this time.

Jul, to my complete and utter shock, dared to take a step back again. Then, I heard it. A bit of a shuffle behind. The others were trying to close the distance.

“You’re just saying that to be brave,” spat one of the boys boldly.

“Yeah, you can’t take us all.��

“Who’s gonna stop us if we don’t stop pestering you? Your dad?” teased another.

“No, she’ll probably go crying to that oaf giant Orion of hers. He’s basically your pet, right? Doing what you say and stuff?” said another boy.

I couldn’t even help myself. I whipped around, breaking eye-contact with Jul, and deadpan stared down the boy who just spoke. I thought his name was Ashon or something like that. He was easily taller than me by a head, and he was twice as broad too. Still, I felt completely unintimidated as I stared into his face.

“Don’t you dare insult Steele like that,” I snarled.

Immediately, like a cloud covering the sun, the boys’ demeanor shifted from uncertain to knowing exactly where I was weakest.

“Oh? Don’t like us talking about your giant fool father?” barked one of the skinnier boys.

“Yeah, tell us how that even works since you’re so small.”

“Ittle bittle Illy doesn’t like us talking about her giant daddy.”

“Shut up!” I roared, whipping around to glare at all of them. “You think you’re so tough insulting him when he’s not even here. You don’t know him!”

“Aww you hear that? It sounds like she’s about to cry.”

“Orion’s pet.”

“No! Orion’s daughter. Giant’s little girl,” teased Jul.

My back was to him, and I should have seen it coming. I suddenly felt a nudge on my shoulders from behind, making me stumble a few steps forward.

This was their mistake.

This was my chance. This is what I was waiting for. I tried using my words and walking away, and now it was time for more. I wasn’t running this time. I was tired of running.

As the big boy, Ashon, raised his hands to push me, I felt myself moving instinctually, my body molding into the right forms as I needed them.

I dropped the potatoes reached out and, using my forward momentum, let it carry through to Ashon as I pinched his pinky fingers and bent his wrists backwards. He cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground, kneeling in front of me. I leaned forward and glared into his eyes.

“I told you not to. Remember that.”

Everything after was a complete blur. I managed to raise my foot and kicked Ashon in the chest hard, throwing him off balance and onto the ground. I took my first position stance and snagged the next boy’s wrist, using his own momentum as I twisted his arm around, kicked out his leg, and smashed him into the ground.

He rolled me over, smashing me against the cobbled stone streets, but I ended up on top and managed to twist his arm behind his back, making him cry out in agony. I could feel the bruise on my face forming and the cut on my cheek starting to form beads of blood.

I was suddenly grabbed from both of my arms and dragged back as Jul boldly stepped forward and landed a punch in my gut. Then two more. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from upchucking my breakfast.

He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. I was ready for it, but he wasn’t ready for what I unleased on him. As he reared back for another hit, I kicked him in between his legs so hard that I swore I heard a pop. He roared in pain and collapsed instantly on the ground, clutching what was left of his dignity.

I didn’t have time to worry about what was going on with him. I needed to get out. I raised my foot and stomped down hard on one of the boy’s toes, which slackened his grip. Slipping out, I gave him a harsh backfist to his nose. Again, I heard a crack as blood spurted from his face.

The other tightened his grip on me, but I needed him to do that. I spun around, shoving my back against his front, and bent over harshly. The shock on his face was priceless as he was hoisted up through the air, over my shoulder, and slammed onto the ground. He groaned and tried to roll over, but stopped when he saw me standing over him in third position.

“Stay down!” I snarled.

Suddenly, I felt someone else grab me from behind. I whipped around and saw that it was an adult, not one of Jul’s goons, who had a firm grip on my elbow.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded the man, a thick man whose head was as shiny as an ocean smoothed stone. He had a mustache that curled at the ends, and it took me a moment to realize that this was one of the cow keepers. He must have been in to trade some of his slaughtered cattle.

I didn’t even get a chance to get out a single word.

Jul, who managed to recover from the kick I gave him, spoke up first.

“She… attacked… us…” lied Jul. I felt my body seize and somehow managed to gain pinpoint focus on Jul, feeling a swelling hatred in my bones for him.

“Liar!” I shrieked as I thrashed against the cow keeper’s grip to try and go after Jul again. This time, I wasn’t going to go easy on him. Sadly, I couldn’t get away. The cow keeper’s grip was a little more than what I could handle at the moment.

“That’s enough! You are coming with me,” barked the cow keeper as he dragged me away from the group of crumpled boys. I barely managed to snag my bag of potatoes as he led me several meters away where, all of a sudden, the town constable was approaching.

“What just happened?” he asked, stepping quickly toward the havoc I left behind. The portly man glanced at me, with a cut on my cheek and a bruise on my face, and then looked at the crumpled group of boys behind.

“I don’t know, but I just turned down this street and saw this little brat beating up on these boys,” said the cow keeper. I felt my jaw hit the ground. What a bunch of nonsense! What a swayed point of view!

“Well? What is the meaning of this?” asked the constable as he looked to me. He practically towered over me as I looked up into his soft round features.

“I didn’t do anything, sir,” I said firmly. “They were calling me names like Illy, insulted the Orion, and then shoved me. I was defending myself; and this isn’t the first time they’ve teased and tormented me. I asked them to stop and to let me go home, but they surrounded me.” I glanced around at some of the other people in the square who witnessed everything that happened.

A loathing hatred seethed in me as I looked at them. They let this happen. They chose not to help me even though I was horribly outnumbered. This was not the first time this happened, but I had a feeling this would be the last time it did. I could only hope they would choose to help me now.

“It is true, sir,” piped up one of the little flower ladies who tend to little boxed gardens in front of their shop. “I watched as those boys surrounded this little girl.” I glanced over at the dandelion white puff haired woman and mouthed “thank you” as she gave a single, firm nod.

“Is that so?” asked the constable. “Wait… I know you…. You’re Terrilyn Lun, right? Raina Toro’s daughter?”

I bit my lip and looked away for the first time, nodding and replying, “Yes, sir.” It was easy to spot me in the town. There were no others who had mine and my momma’s features in town. He nodded a sighed.

“Well then, you can let this one go. I believe her words to be true,” said the constable. “But mark me, young lady. Don’t make starting fights a regular occurrence, or we’ll have issues. Understood?”

I had to bite back a snarky retort. Of course I would be the one in trouble. Of course I would be the one with a warning instead of the boys, who mercilessly taunted me for so long.

“Yes, sir,” I said. I took my supplies once the constable nodded toward the road and began the long trek home.

I still felt everyone’s eyes on me as I walked down the cobbled stone streets. Somehow, their looks felt different. I did notice, however, that their mutterings stopped.

Good.

The trek home felt shorter than the run coming into town. Maybe it was because my mind was distracted by things that the boys said. Maybe my mind was preoccupied with how I was going to tell my momma about my injuries. One thing kept coming up though, and it was what Ashon said.

The Orion’s daughter.

Steele… as my dad…

Sure, Steele was an Orion – a giant in our land – but only when Ashon said it did I actually start to think about what it was that he said.

I had grown closer to Steele for quite some time now, and I did think about him and how much I wished my own father could be the one explaining these things to me.

Was… that how I saw Steele now?

As some sort of father to me? A dad?

All thought came to a halt when my momma spotted me and saw the cut and bruise forming on my cheek. All rationalization and evaluation stopped dead in its tracks as I explained to Steele, who was working with my momma on making some additional raised beds for our own garden, and my momma what happened.

I told her about the boys’ taunting me and how they have been taunting me. I explained how they started the fight by pushing me and by being insulting, and that it was me who the cow keeper dragged away.

“The absolute nerve! Well… I! I am going right back and… ooohhhh….” Momma, when she got flustered, sputtered her words and didn’t speak in complete sentences. It was where I got it from, but it really showed me she cared when she got worked up like this.

“No, Raina,” stated Steele as he leaned away ever so slightly to speak.

“No?!” demanded my momma. “I need to go back there and give those people a piece of my mind!”

“Raina,” said Steele gently. “They will not bother Terrilyn again. She has proven herself to them to be a formidable foe, and they will not trouble her again.”

Momma didn’t like it, but she moved away to get some more moss and to gather some herbs to make some healing tea for my bruises. She had some plant called arnica with these beautiful yellow flowers that was supposed to help.

When we were alone, Steele bent over a little lower to look me in the eyes.

“What were they saying today?” he asked softly, his warm, peppermint breath ruffling my hair gently. I bit my lip and glanced away, feeling my cheeks burning. Did I tell him the specifics? Especially when my mind was churning over and over with Jul’s thugs’ statements?

Yes… I should… because I wanted to know something too….

“Well… they,” I took a breath, feeling my heart flipping nervously in my chest. “They started with their normal torments with calling me Illy and everything, but… then… they started calling you names.”

“Me? Names?” asked Steele, brow furrowing as he mulled over the words.

“Yeah, and they… they started calling me something… something new….” I said. Steele’s violet eyes turned to me, blinking inquisitively and silently inviting me to continue. I felt compelled by his gaze to speak, and so I did. “They called me your daughter.”

At this, Steele seemed genuinely surprised, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips.

“My… daughter?” he asked quietly. I nodded.

“Yes. They said a bunch of mean things, but… that was the one that I… didn’t mind,” I said, wincing as I said it, afraid of what Steele’s reaction might be. There were butterflies all in my gut. Nausea swirled in my mind. Everything felt like pins and needles.

What was he going to think?

What was he going to say?

“You… didn’t mind?” asked Steele. I bit my lip and breathed deeply. My nerves felt like they were in a complete and utter wreck. Still, the tenderness that he used when saying those words made me hope that he was receiving it well. I reached down and fiddled with the edge of the piece of fabric my momma had used to wash the little cut on my cheek.

“No… I didn’t mind,” I said. “I… like it.” There were several, long seconds of tense quiet before I felt Steele’s index finger gently brush against my shoulder. I instantly leaned into the touch. I looked up to see how Steele’s violet eyes twinkled.

“I like that very much too,” he smiled. My gut felt hollow, and, at the same time, my heart felt so full it was getting ready to burst. As I looked into his eyes, I felt warm, salty tears lining my own eyes and one, final question came to my mind.

“Steele?” I asked quietly. “Could… I mean… would it be okay if I called you dad? From time to time? I mean… you… you’ve been so wonderful and good to me. You’ve taught me so much and care about me like how my momma cares about me. It wouldn’t be always… but… every once in a while? Could I do that? Call you dad?”

The expression of the older Orion softened beyond comprehension and description of words as he smiled at me, pressing the tips of his fingers against my side.

“There would be no greater honor,” stated Steele.

Tears slipped over the rims of my eyes as he rolled his wrist off to the side and let me crawl onto his palm. I could have sworn there was a glisten of tears in his own eyes as he carefully curled his fingers and laid them against my bruising frame.

Then, with the utmost care, he lifted his hand to his face and tenderly pressed his forehead against me. It took effort, but I twisted around and spread my arms as far as I could, pressing my forehead to his.

“Thanks dad,” I muttered, and I meant it.

Steele was everything I could have wanted in a dad, and I would endeavor every day to be worthy of being his adopted daughter.

Now we really felt like a family.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Beginning

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Book One: The Orion’s Factotum

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elixirvitae · 2 years

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Alucard- Occult References

I’m putting my slideshow into text post format, so buckle up! It’s history lesson time!

The “Cromwell Initiative” is most likely a reference to Oliver Cromwell, a leader of Parliament armies during the English Civil War during the 17th century. Despite being one of Britain’s most widely regarded controversial figures, he was chosen as one of the Ten Greatest Britons” in a 2002 BBC poll.

A legend surrounds Cromwell. It is said that on the eve of the Battle of Worcester, Cromwell snuck away from the camp and met the Devil in the woods. In exchange for 7 years of prosperity, he would give his soul. He died precisely seven years after. So, who in Hellsing Cromwell contract sold his soul? Alucard to Abraham for survival, or Abraham to Alucard in exchange for a lethal weapon he could wield and monetize?

Alchemy is referenced in the content of Alucard’s characterization as well. The quote inscribed on Alucard’s coffin (in Ultimate, it is written in its original Greek language) is translated as “The Bird of Hermes is my name/ Eating my wings to make me tame.” This quote is taken from the 15th century alchemical work known as the Ripley Scroll. While George Ripley is the suspected author and artist behind the scroll, the Hermes named is a reference to Hermes Trismegistus, a philosophy figure that was the product of merging the Greek god Hermes with Thoth, the Egyptian god of knowledge and wisdom.

The quote is taken from a part of the scroll that allegedly details the way to obtain the Philosopher’s Stone, a commonly sought after target by alchemists seeking power, immortality, and enlightenment.

The Left-Hand Path, which is one part of a dichotomy opposite the Right-Hand Path, focuses more on the elevation of the self through reaching one’s own potential, while rejecting religious authority and most commonly rejecting the notion of a higher power. Laveyan Satanism, Theistic Satanism, and Luciferianism are all Left-Hand Paths. We see references to Satanism in Alucard’s gestures, both in the inverted cross commonly (and widely mistakenly) associated with Satanism, and in the positions of his hands which match those of the iconic imagery of Baphomet.

Speaking of his hands, let’s look at his gloves. Working from the outside in, we find Theban script, also known as the Witches’ Alphabet. Hirano’s Theban is poor, but we can make out enough to correct the script into what translates to “Hellsing”, “Hell’s Gate Arrested”, and “Shine Heaven Now”.

Closest to Alucard’s wrist, we see a number of 812. Knowing Hirano, this could just be a random number but I think the number refers to Gematria, a Jewish alphanumeric code that assigns numeric value to words and phrases, originally meant for the Torah. My favorite phrase I found that has a Gematric value of 812 is “Lucifer Begotten Son”, which would fall in line with the byname “Dracula” translating to “Son of the Dragon/Devil”.

And then we have the sigil, all placed within a circle. The sigil itself is reminiscent of those belonging to Goetic demons, found in the Ars Goetia, a section of “The Lesser Key of Solomon”. In the Ars Goetia, the Goetic demons images, descriptions, and sigils are displayed. For example, here is Astaroth’s sigil.

I think the way the sigil glows during the Cromwell Invocation means the sigil acts like a binding to Alucard as the sigils of the Goetic demons act to them. The characters around the five-pointed star in Alucard’s sigil contain the alchemical symbols for Uranus and Neptune, representing the elements of Air and Water respectively, and stylized characters from other languages and cultures that represent the other three elements Fir, Earth, and Spirit. And that’s all I can remember now, save for the references made in Stoker’s novel. I hope these are fun facts, because I have had fun picking up on them over the years.

#alucard #i may be a nerd but good luck pushing me into a locker #hellsing hc #alucard hc

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lightandheatao3 · 5 months

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The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 2: The Inevitable

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer knows what's about to happen. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean he's prepared to deal with it

Read chapter 2 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

Chapter 1 link

There was no sunlight. No clocks on the wall. They had been stripped of their watches and phones. They had no way of being certain how long they’d been trapped.

Spencer had a pretty good idea, though. Cool air flowed in from the small vent in the roof but sweat beaded on his brow.

They were all sat leaned against various sections of wall. The room was big enough that they had to raise their voices slightly to ensure they were heard from the opposite wall.

“Are you doing alright, Spence?” asked JJ, then rolled her eyes at herself for the asinine question, given their current situation. “I mean, relatively speaking, obviously. You look a little pale.”

“Just exhausted,” he said.

Please please please someone break the door down and let them out.

They had spent a long time analyzing the note and had come to the conclusion that whoever wrote and delivered the note was a woman. The hand size, the passive language, the fixation on teaching them a lesson. The apparent belief that she was helping them, justifying her cruelty with compassion. All of it added up to a female Unsub.

They had debated heavily if she might have an accomplice. It would have taken a significant degree of physical strength to subdue them all. Even intravenous drugs don’t knock someone out instantaneously. In addition, the site of injection was incredibly precise and nearly identical on each of them. This would only be possible by holding them very still, likely with a headlock from behind.

An accomplice certainly seemed possible, but at this stage they had no hard evidence to support it.

Everyone looked to Spencer to compile a mental list of all female Unsubs they dealt with while the team was in this particular configuration. Nobody quite fit the profile.

Antonia Slade was intelligent enough and had a history of taking her victims in to care for them before she killed them, but she wouldn’t hide behind a door. She would gloat. He wouldn’t put it past Lindsey Vaughn. She was resourceful. It’s not her MO, but she’d been known to be adaptable when a good opportunity to fuck with them presented itself. But that didn’t explain why she’d gone after them but not Luke and Tara, who she’d also dealt with.

Spencer pointed out to the team he kept tabs on Vaughn in prison, given everything that happened in Mexico. She could theoretically operate via proxy, but he was pretty confident she wasn’t their Unsub.

Truthfully, there were no good candidates. Whoever was doing this was going to need to give them something more to go off if they wanted a chance of piecing it together.

The fluorescent lights buzzed.

Once again he was living under the looming threat of violence and death but all he could think about was how terrified he was to be seen by the people he loved.

There were too many people in too small a space. He had his arms crossed tightly over his midriff to hide the fact his hands were shaking.

Everyone agreed there was no merit to speculating on what secrets she was referencing. For all they knew that was her plan. Get them to reveal information she could use against them, or get them fighting amongst themselves.

There was an invisible ticking clock. Spencer could hear it like it was real. Each second that ticked by was one closer to the moment where his most pressing secret revealed itself anyway thanks to his uncooperative body.

Nobody had spoken for a long time when Rossi piped up, “When do you think dinner is?”

They all stared at him. Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Feeling peckish?”

“If she wants to keep us imprisoned for the duration, surely she plans to feed us.” He looked up at the camera on the roof and raised his voice. “If you’re taking orders, I would love osso buco and a glass of the ’95 Chateaux Latour!”

JJ laughed. “Could you throw in a carbonara for me?”

“And a carbonara!” he demanded from the camera. “Real egg, none of that cream shit.” He looked around the room. “Any other orders? I hear the food here is excellent.”

“Ribeye on the bone, medium rare, a side of fries with a Bearnaise sauce,” said Derek, closing his eyes and giving a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” said JJ.

“Yeah, I’ll have what he’s having,” said Emily. “Throw in a pinot for me.”

“What vintage?” asked Rossi.

“Whatever one tastes best chugged straight from the bottle.”

Spencer smiled at them. Truthfully the thought of food was making his stomach turn violently, but he played anyway. “I’ll take a cheeseburger from Bernard's Burgers,” he said simply.

The others hummed in approval. They all cast their eyes to Hotch. He hesitated. Eventually, he said, “There’s a seafood restaurant a couple of blocks from where I live that has the best lobster you’ll ever try. You wouldn’t expect it from a landlocked state, but there’s nothing like it.”

Everyone nodded, satisfied with their imaginary feast.

“Not to keep bugging you, kid, but are you sure you’re alright?” asked Derek. “You’re not looking so hot.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been kind of off the last couple of days. I might be coming down with something. Sorry if you all catch it,” he said with his best impression of sincerity.

Derek made an ‘oof’ noise. “How’s that for timing?” he asked lightheartedly, though his eyes lingered longer than was entirely comfortable.

After another moment Rossi spoke again. “How long do you think we’ve been in here?”

“14 hours since we woke up,” said Spencer without missing a beat.

They all stared at him. “How the hell do you do that?” said Rossi, impressed.

He shrugged. Truthfully, he didn’t have the best internal clock. It was very easy for him to get lost in thought and lose track of time. The piercing headache and rising nausea were making him acutely aware of every passing minute.

That was how it went with this sort of thing. You had to develop a routine, especially if you wanted to function. He knew exactly how long he could go before he started getting sick. He scheduled his entire life around it.

The Unsub had clearly figured out their routines. Even if she hadn’t, the evidence of Spencer’s habits were strew across the bedside table in the room he was taken from.

He dug his nails into his arms through his sleeves. Time was running out. It was all getting away from him.

As if the Unsub had been reading his mind, the chamber on the door opened.

Derek was faster this time, managing to get his face right up to the chamber while the external hatch was still wide open.

“Talk to us!” he yelled. “We know you’re trying to teach us a lesson,” he said, an empathetic lilt pasted onto his voice. “We just want to know more. We want you to help us understand.”

A gloved hand deposited an unmarked brown paper shopping bag. The external hatch closed. The internal one released. Derek bowed his head as their captor left with no response. “She must be positioning herself to the side of the door. I still couldn’t see anything more than a hand. She’s careful, but we knew that already.”

Derek took the bag out and they all crowded around it cautiously.

It was packed full of fruit. Emily picked up an apple, turning it over in her hand.

With all eyes focused on her, she carefully took a bite.

She chewed, then swallowed.

“It tastes normal,” she assured them. “Give it half an hour to an hour to see if it has any effects on me, but I don’t think poisoning the food fits this woman’s MO.”

“I agree,” said Hotch, taking a pear. He followed Emily’s lead and cautiously bit into it. He nodded at the others.

The first rule of being held captive was to always take your food and water where you could get it. You never knew when your supply could be cut off.

They all reached in and took a piece of fruit, including Spencer. He had no desire to eat, but he knew he had to keep his strength up and get what he could down while it was still possible.

As he took his orange, he uncovered a note at the bottom of the bag. JJ saw it too, reaching in and grabbing it before he could.

They all watched her expectantly.

“Your room must always be clean. After you eat, put the food scraps in the bag and the bag in the chamber. There are consequences for breaking rules. Now, as a reward for good behavior, I will take away the burden of lies that weighs one of you down. If Dr Reid-”

She paused, reading further down the note, furrowing her brow.

They all stared at him. He tugged at his sleeves nervously.

“Keep going,” said Emily to JJ, though her eyes were fixed firmly on him.

JJ looked at him apologetically. He looked at the floor. She continued, “If Dr Reid is sick, it is only because he is missing his medicine. I gave you all a taste of it to get you here. I hope you don’t catch his disease.”

She dropped the note like it was radioactive. She mouthed the word 'sorry' at him, knowing as well as he did the shit show that was about to errupt. Derek immediately picked the note up. He looked over it himself like he didn’t want to believe JJ had read it accurately.

He looked back at Spencer.

They were all staring at him.

Instinct told him to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. Instead he stood and waited for the concrete beneath his feet to turn to liquid and encase him.

They were waiting for him to talk first.

He couldn’t.

“What’s she talking about, pretty boy?” asked Derek, finally taking pity on him and breaking the silence.

He took a few steps back, suddenly acutely aware of how close they were after gathering around the bag of fruit. “I have no idea,” he said petulantly, cringing at himself for it.

“It’s alright, kid,” said Rossi sympathetically. “Nobody is upset, just talk to us.”

Spencer’s brain sprinted in circles. Why did the lights have to be so bright?

He tried desperately to think of some clever way to talk himself out of it even though he’d figured out hours ago that this was going to happen. This Unsub’s plan was technically impressive, but it wasn’t exactly psychologically sophisticated. She wanted to out their secrets. This one was going to out itself pretty soon anyway, so of course she'd want to get to it first.

“Spencer,” said Emily, “How sick are you going to get?”

No is it true? Or does this mean what I think it means? Straight to believing it. They didn’t even look surprised. They looked like this was only confirming what they already knew. They looked sad.

Horribly, infuriatingly sad.

He ran a hand through his hair.

“The others are going to find us,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter.”

He wished he could believe it, but he wished they could believe it even more.

“This is why you woke up before the rest of us,” said JJ softly. “Why you weren’t as affected. It’s because your tolerance is up.”

“You guys can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to pit us against each other,” he accused, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and taking another step back. "We're just playing into her fantasy."

“Don’t think about her right now,” said Emily. “If you’re going into withdrawal then we need to know exactly what to expect. Mind games can’t take precedence over your physical safety.”

“I’ll be fine. Opioid withdrawal has a statistically low mortality rate, with only 2% of the-”

“So it is opioid withdrawal?” She tilted her head. “Look at you, Spencer. You’re shaking, your skin is clammy. You said yourself, we’ve only been in here 14 hours! If it’s this bad already, how much worse is it going to get?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped. “Yes, fine, I’m going to get sick! What do you want me to say?”

“Easy, pretty boy,” said Derek gently. “This isn't an attack. The fact is, we’re all locked in here together and this is happening whether we like it or not. We just need you to tell us exactly how bad this is going to get.”

“I don’t know,” he said shortly.

“Yes, you do,” countered Emily. “You cold give us a detailed breakdown of the symptoms, timeline, and risk factors of an opioid detox based on frequency and duration of usage. You just don’t want to admit how much and for how long you’ve been using because it’s bad, right?” she said. Typical Emily, so pragmatic. There would be plenty of time for sentiment once she had a plan, but no sooner. “This isn’t just a slip, is it? You’re shooting up again and have been for a while.”

Spencer flinched. So did everyone else.

All eyes were on him, but for some reason it was Hotch’s gaze he caught. The man hadn’t said anything the entire exchange. Just stood at the back of the group and watched carefully.

When their eyes met, Hotch gave him a tight, sympathetic smile.

Spencer looked at a spot just behind Emily’s head and spoke quietly. “I… I’ll be fine, Emily. I’ll get sick but I’ll get better. It’s not the first time. I don’t need your help.”

“Roll up your sleeves,” she demanded.

He sputtered, “What? No!”

“Emily,” said Rossi placatingly. “Take a beat.”

She ignored him. “If you won’t tell us what to expect then show us. Spencer, I know this is fucking awful and believe me this is not the way I would like to have this conversation,” she said, gesturing to the oppressive room. “I am so sorry for not seeing what was happening and helping you sooner,” she said sincerely. “The least I can do is make sure you get through this safely.”

Even as he said it, he could feel himself regretting it, but before he could stop himself, “Fuck off Emily,” had slipped out his mouth.

JJ gasped and Derek interjected with a stern “Hey! I know this sucks but do not speak to her that way.”

“It’s fine,” said Emily. “I’m not trying to be condescending, Spencer. I’m just scared. I want to help.”

She sounded excruciatingly sincere. It made his blood boil.

“No,” he snapped, stepping back again until he felt the wall hit him. “None of you were there the other times I had to do this, and now you want me to defer to your expertise? What the hell do you know? What do any of you actually know? If you wanted to do an intervention you should have done it after Tobias Hankle, but none of you said anything and I don’t need you like that anymore,” he spat.

Emily’s eyes were wide with shock.

Spencer's words surprised himself just as much as the rest of them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taken aback. “You’re right. I should have said something back then.”

Guilt twisted its way through the panic and rage, settling into his chest.

They were all trapped down there together and here he was punishing Emily for caring. He tried his best to hold onto the anger. To wrap himself in it. He could feel it slipping away.

Hotch stepped forward. Spencer had almost forgotten he was there.

“I was team leader at the time of the Hankle case. I’m the one who decided not to intervene,” he said firmly. “Emily brought her concerns to me and I shut them down because I was afraid if word got out you would lose your job, making your situation worse. I trusted that you were strong enough to recover. And you were. But you never should have done so without proper support. I regret that, Reid, and I always will.”

Maybe it was the stark inevitability catching up with him that there was simply no way to avoid going through withdrawal in front of them. Maybe it was the way his eyes kept searching for an exit he knew didn't exist. Maybe it was thinking about Tobias Hankle. All these years and all the other traumas, and a part of him was still stuck in that cabin in Georgia. A part of him always would be. Whatever it was, the fight left him.

He was still pressed up against the wall, and he slid down it until he was sitting on the cold concrete floor. The others sat too.

“I don’t know why I said that. I’m not angry about it anymore. Or, at least… I’m not angry at any of you,” he said, chancing an apologetic glance at Emily. “Maybe at Gideon, still. But what’s the point in that?”

“When someone who hurt you is gone it doesn’t take away the scars,” said Rossi. “I loved Gideon, but he made mistakes. It’s okay to be pissed about it.”

“Do you guys really want to hear all this?” asked Spencer skeptically.

They might say that’s what they want, but the subject of his addiction had never felt particularly welcome. They had always flinched away from it, just as they had only a minute ago when Emily referenced him shooting up.

He certainly didn’t want their pity or concern.

“Of course we do,” said Emily, with the others nodding emphatically.

He hesitated. They already knew, he reminded himself. They were asking because they care about him and because the secret was already out. He couldn't put it back.

“2 years. Or 1 year, 11 months, and 3 days, to be precise.”

Silence. He wanted to say stunned silence? But it could have as easily been disgust. He couldn’t tell.

“How is that possible?” asked Derek, deceptively calm.

“We couldn’t miss the signs for that long,” said JJ disbelievingly.

“It’s been on and off,” he clarified. “I was only using in between cases when I was last working with the BAU.” Then, sheepishly, “Mostly." There were some cases... well. He'd done his best. "You would be surprised how easy it is to miss substance abuse in people close to you. One study showed that up to 60% of heroin users are what we call ‘functional addicts,’ meaning they can hold down fulltime employment, social lives, and sometimes even have their addiction go unnoticed by intimate partners for months or years at a time,” he rattled off, before catching the look in his friends’ eyes and stopping. “It isn’t your fault,” he said simply. “I’ve been avoiding you on purpose. Not to mention you base your warning signs on how I behaved when I first became addicted, expecting me to be volatile and disorganized. But I’m not 25 and in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic event anymore. I have more control. It’s not a problem like it was back then,” he assured them.

“Feels like a pretty big problem right now,” said Rossi.

“Functional addicts don’t stay functional forever, pretty boy,” said Derek. “I’m sure you know the other side of those statistics.”

“I don’t have a large enough dataset to offer credible statistics on the amount of opioid addicts who get kidnapped and forced to detox in bunkers. In retrospect, I should have realized that I am an outlier who should have expected something like this to happen,” he deadpanned.

“Well, we’re all outliers vis a vis kidnappings,” replied Emily dryly. "I'm sure that makes you feel better."

“I hate doing this while we’re being watched,” he said. “It feels like we’re encouraging her. This is exactly the outcome she was hoping for. It’s why she dosed you all with opioids instead of using pure sedatives. Just to taunt me.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” said Hotch. “What matters is that we get you through withdrawal. We need accurate information to ensure we know what to do.”

“I know,” he admitted reluctantly. He took a long, slow breath. “Ask me whatever you need to,” he said, directing it to Emily.

He wished he was high right now. He’d give anything for a hit.

Emily nodded; sentiment once again pushed down the line to when the job was done. “Dilaudid?”

“It’s whatever is easiest to get.”

“So, heroin,” she clarified.

He looked at his lap. “It doesn't make a difference to the withdrawal process. It’s all derivatives of the same compound.”

“It makes a difference to your risk of overdose,” she clarified, “but you’re right, that’s not an immediate concern,” she agreed. “Needles?”

He nodded, not looking at them.

“It’s okay, kid,” said Rossi. “We’re not judging.”

He didn’t really believe that, so he didn’t respond to it.

“Every day? If so, how many times a day?” Emily asked.

“It was previously more intermittent, as I said, but for the past 8 months or so It has been twice a day at a minimum.” A beat. "Usually more."

“Okay. Thank you for telling us all that. I know this isn’t easy,” she said. “I just have one more question for now. Is there any risk that you have an infection?”

“All intravenously administered drugs come with a statistically significant risk of infection,” he said, ready to ramble about it before she threw up a hand to preemptively cut him off. “I always use sterile equipment and alcohol wipes. I’m fine.”

“You are anything but fine, pretty boy,” said Derek, shaking his head. “But we’ll get you through this.”

“That would be more comforting if we weren’t locked in a bunker by a serial killer.”

“Minor problem,” Derek joked. “Consider it a study on innovative approaches to running a rehabilitation facility.”

Spencer didn't laugh. Neither did anyone else. JJ placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

He caught Hotch's eye again, briefly.

Had any of them ever really had a shot at escaping their pasts or was this all inevitable? He wasn't getting clean by choice. Hotch wasn't there in the bunker to reconnect with them. Spencer was struck by the reality that proximity did not always mean closeness.

He was already thinking about the moment he could get out of here and get high again. Was Hotch just counting the seconds until he could disappear from their lives forever?

Assuming they didn't all just die, of course.

Maybe that's what he should be focusing on now. Just don't die. Figure out the rest later.

He leaned into JJ, letting her put an arm around him. The red light from the camera blinked down at them.

#criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #bau team #bau team as family #criminal minds evolution

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manuscripts-dontburn · 6 months

Text

Leia, Princess of Alderaan

Author: Claudia Gray

First published: 2017

Rating: ★★★★☆

In the beginning, I felt this would be simply a decent fanfiction filled with movie references and easter eggs, but I was pleasantly surprised, as I read on, that instead, this turned out to be quite a compelling portrait of a girl who grew up to be the character I loved in Star Wars so much. A very believable portrait. I was also quite captivated that the main conflict here does not center on romance or teenage rebellion, but quite well-measured and carefully thought-through discussion of the prize of an uprising, its importance and difficulty, and the hard choices those with means to oppose the evil often have to make.

The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine

Author: Ilan Pappé

First published: 2006

Rating: ★★★★★

Sombre, precise, and accessible. Also very important and heartbreaking. A clear portrait of a colonial project that is still brutally taking people´s lives, homes, and history. I still find it extremely bitter that the Zionists took so many lessons and inspiration from the Nazi regime. It is also extremely interesting that the aims, language, and strategies the Israeli government is using in the autumn of 2023 are the same as they had used in 1948. This book is even more terrible now, as we see the genocide of Palestinian people in real time.

The Maiden

Author: Kate Foster

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★★★☆

Interesting take on a real historical event. Lady Christian, accused and deemed guilty of the murder of her lover (who was also her uncle - thankfully not blood-related, but still urghhhh), a professional courtesan Violet, who hopes the said uncle might just be her ticket to a better life, and a bunch of other female characters who all have their agendas, reasons, and hopes, are all linked through ties that are only gradually revealed. In spite of revealing the murder and the death sentence of Christian at the very beginning, the author still manages to take you on a journey where there are unforeseen twists and turns. I personally could have done with less raised petticoats and sweaty fumbling, but at the same time, the grittiness and awkwardness of human sexuality are presented in a way that is very real, but never pornographic or lewd for the sake of it. Definite feminist tones are running through the whole book and I appreciate they do not turn any of the women in the book into a 21st-century robot. No. everything is very real and I am sure that many women will also find the characters relatable in their actions and motives. The book COULD have been shorter and left the same impact, but if you don´t mind slower pacing, you might enjoy this a lot.

The Escape of Alexei, Son of Tsar Nicholas II: What Happened the Night the Romanov Family Was Executed

Author: Igor Lysenko

First published: 1998

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Except for reprints of some genuine documents in full (i.e. the request of Dr. Botkin for allowing Alexei´s tutors to be allowed into the Ipatiev house), there is really no value to this publication. The whole first half merely gives some basic historical background, pretty much dismisses the accounts of the executioners as faked (without proof) and then there is a lot of trying to persuade the reader that Alexei lived. this the authors came to believe based on some really low-quality photograph comparison, a privately orchestrated writing analysis, and the fact some dude grows his beard like Nicholas II. The fact that Vasily Filatov was obviously very intelligent cannot be taken into account as proof at all, especially since the writers insist he spoke languages Alexei had never been taught and played instruments Alexei had never been taught to play etc. I also found it extremely weird that they insisted Alexei survived the brutal massacre in the Iptaiev house completely unharmed. This book was, of course, written before the 2007 discovery of the two missing bodies, so perhaps the fact those bodies had been missing in the first grave was just too tempting for the writers to let go of once they were contacted by Filatov. Yet in the whole book, there is not a single suggestion as to the fate of the "missing" sister. What happened to her according to these people? I picked this book up because I am fascinated with the Romanov pretenders and how much mental gymnastics they can go to. I am never disappointed in the amount of de-lu-lu.

And the Mountains Echoed

Author: Khaled Hosseini

First published: 2012

Rating: ★★★★★

Not one story, but many lives tying in together, all of which could have been their own book. This is, actually, one of my favourite types of novels and Khaled Hosseini managed to weave a beautiful tapestry full of sadness, desires simple and complicated, and some hefty moral questions. His characters are all so human that you can clearly see their faults and flaws, some of which are more and some less understandable to the reader, but you can always find something to relate to, care for, or pity in them. I would have wished for an ending more book-ish. But the one we get is not bad. It brought tears to my eyes. One of those books that capture life and that which makes us human.

Dostoevsky in Love: An Intimate Life

Author: Alex Christofi

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★★★☆

As I am writing this, I have only read one short story by Dostoyevsky and read only one of his novels (Crime and Punishment). I suppose I should have read a bunch more if I didn´t want to be spoiled for the rest. I imagine a proper biography on this complicated man could easily be a 1000+ pages book, so one must give credit to Alex Chrisofi for writing just about 200 and yet successfully introducing him to me. His childhood, his experiences of exile in Siberia, his ambitions to become a writer - and of course his loves, his gambling, his moral struggles - none of it is missing, everything has its place and tells enough to get to know Dostoyevsky and rouses interest to read more. As criticism, I might offer several footnotes that do not really connect to the matter at hand, and though compelling, I would be always careful before assigning a specific sentence from the author´s book to a specific moment of their life, because that is nothing but guesswork (even if effective in portraying emotions).

We Had To Remove This Post

Author: Hanna Bervoets

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

This was short and that is the reason why I finished it. I suppose that is as good a review as any.

The Madman’s Gallery

Author: Edward Brooke-Hitching

First published: 2022

Rating: ★★★★★

Very entertaining, gorgeously illustrated, and left me feeling like truly walking through a gallery. I love Brooke-Hitching´s books, they are filled with funny and fascinating trivia and can point you in new directions of interest. The artworks are listed from the dawn of time up to contemporary times, finishing with a chapter about AI.

Silk Roads

Author: Peter Frankopan

First published: 2015

Rating: ★★★★☆

Money and greed rule the world, have always ruled the world and the West is really great at pretending it has always been the greatest part of the world while selling their souls for the dreams of colonialism. Peter Frankopan says all this in a very accessible way, pointing out both the obvious and providing lesser-known information. to be completely honest though, I do not think I have retained too much new stuff, since there was way too much all at once, but I suppose this book also gave me some good pointers to topics I have previously overlooked. Definitely worth checking out if you are unsure about how the world became such a mess (and actually always has been a mess). Pretty depressing with all the knowledge we have acquired and events that have happened since the publication of this book though.

Mammoths at the Gates

Author: Nghi Vo

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★★★☆

These books are such healing plasters upon my soul. A moment of peace and quiet, silent beauty, emotions that are welcomed and not repressed.

Starling House

Author: Alix E. Harrow

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Things I liked: the writing, the atmosphere, the creepy old house. Things I did not particularly care about: the contemporary settings, the characters who all just seemed to fulfill a spot rather than actually live in the book. Things I did not like: repetitive situations. Overall I will need to think about this one a bit more before I come to a truly solid conclusion. Some time ago I was not thrilled with the author´s debut book, yet I keep thinking about it. Mabe this will be the same case?

#booklr #wrap up #November 2023

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chasingpj · 1 year

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HEYY OMG CONGRATS ON 1K <333

can i have a **bow and arrow emoji** please? she/her, cabin 6 (athena cabin), no powers but preferred weapons are throwing knives. uhh idk what else to say, ig im pretty intelligent and very, very sarcastic?? ive also been told that im funny, and in terms of mbti im an estp, enneagram type 8, and a capricorn if any of that helps lol. tysm, and congrats again!! oh yeah and i have adhd, which is one of the reasons why i love pjo sm loll <3 tysm!!

HEYYY! Thank you so much!

okay first of all, you being a capricorn and then reading your personality type matches up so well lmao anyways, i hope you enjoy this!

Cabin/Friends

i can see the athena cabin is a very tight knit group because you guys can truly regard each other as like-minded individuals

with that being said, i think your closest friendships are with your siblings

judging from your personality though, i think you and annabeth would be pretty close!

annabeth is the one who does your orientation and sets you up with everything you need

at first the two of you were very neutral to each other as you settled in

the beginning of your friendship started in mythology class when Chiron asked about a myth you really enjoyed

you raised your hand at the same time as annabeth did and chiron took a moment to decide who he was going to pick

he picked you

it only felt right since this was your first time in class...

annabeth had already spoken plenty this year

you shared some details and answered his question flawlessly

but annabeth, of course, had to chime in

suddenly, you were in this back and forth with her. a silent competition on who knew more about the topic

you won, obvs...

and annabeth is a sore loser

from then on, you and your sister had started your friendly, but not so friendly competition and slowly, it did bring you closer to her

Finding your Niche

you found your preferred weapon from your competition with annabeth as well

even though you just arrived, you confidently sparred with her after some lessons

you got beat up a few times

actually, a lot

but it only motivated you to get better

at some point, you kinda felt turned off by the whole sword fighting thing

it didn't feel right and when you told annabeth, she suggested maybe you should try archery

you had some impressive aim

the apollo kids were quick to claim you as their surrogate sister

with some training, you were doing well with a bow and arrow but after a while, it didn’t feel right either

it wasn’t until you took it upon yourself to head to the armory

you figured that maybe looking at the many options would help since the first few times you were in there, you had quickly decided on a sword or the bow and arrows

nyssa saw you at the displays of weapons

as time passed and you were still there, she decided maybe she could help you

you say it was fate because in her hands was a sling that was designed to hold four small daggers across your chest

something in your brain just clicked and she was more than willing to give it to you, happy you were so excited for something she made

It was history from then on, you picked your daggers with care and soon you were flinging them at bullseyes with precision

Reputation at Camp

everyone knows you and Annabeth are best friends

at some point, in your early years at camp, there wasn’t a time where someone saw you two apart

as you flourish into your own person however, i think you’d be recognize for your leadership skills, and your humor

i think the Stoll's would have a good time around you

the banter would be unmatched and your snarky, witty remarks definitely keep them entertained

with the younger campers, you’ve volunteered enough for programs and events at camp so they all know you

a lot of them look up to you, hoping they’d be as confident and as good as a fighter as you

especially during SOM when the borders where down, you played a big role

capture the flag was hard for you to participate at first because you can’t really throw knives without impaling people

beckendorf gave you a solution though and made you replicas of your daggers but they’re completely plastic and blunt

so you’re also known at the girl who throws plastic daggers at people during capture the flag lmao

the best part is that some of the campers will make a scene as if they’ve actually been impaled and throw themselves on the floor

it’s always fun

still training in the archery fields, you’ve established yourself with the apollo campers pretty well

they’re always a fun crowd to hang out

they make you participate in karaoke, always

also reprimand you when you’ve been up studying, or reading all night

fletcher makes a comment on your eyebags, literally all the time, even if you’ve had a good night's rest

overall, you’d be well acquainted with everybody

being close with annabeth means you took on many projects together and it helped setting your reputation

Quest

your first quest would be a few years into camp

unlike annabeth, you weren’t as eager but a part of you knew you were ready

you were strong and capable in your weaponry and fought plenty of monsters at this point

you fought annabeth pretty often and recently, you’ve been kicking her ass so you were definitely a lot more confident

the quest was to retrieve Athena’s aegis breastplate

It was a pretty big deal

Especially since you were specifically chosen for it

Annabeth was excited for you, willing to go but she was caught up with Percy’s stuff

Chiron told you to choose wisely about who would come with you but you already had two in mind

Bringing your brother, Malcolm was a no brainer

After you and Annabeth he was the best fighter in the cabin and being older, he had a lot of knowledge that could be useful

Your second?

Connor Stoll

It was only right

Who would understand a thief more than a thief himself?

Connor was also so hype to get on a quest

Overall, it was pretty smooth

If you ignore the few hours you were trapped a cell

Which could have been completely avoidable if Connor had noticed the bobby pins in your hair sooner

By the end of the quest, Malcolm was sick of you two

Between you and Connor feeding off each other’s energy causing you two to be absolute menaces and then bickering on top of that? He was so ready to get this done

After a long journey out west and then a long journey back to NYC, you had returned the shield

Athena had thanked you and a few days later, you were gifted a breastplate that was identical to the one you retrieved for her

Annabeth was a little jealous

But couldn’t help and geek out with you about how cool it was

Legacy

Your quest really set you on the map

I mean, you have a really bad ass piece of armor that you wore all the time

The face of aegis right on the front of your body, it’s intimidating

You helped lead in the wars as well

In the Battle of Manhattan, you were leading the chunk of CHB on the other side of the city and wiped out plenty of monsters

All in all, you have the reputation of being a great leader and soldier

The younger campers in your cabin and even the campers that will come years later will know your name along with Annabeth

Plenty of them strive to be recognized by your mother and hope to receive such an honorable gift such as your breastplate

When you leave for New Rome and retire from the demigod life, you can be proud of the reputation you left behind

#xeni's ask box #xeni's 1k celebration

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connoraidann · 1 year

Text

The Day The Internet Died

What would happen if the internet suddenly vanished?

To read along with the audiovisual version, click here: youtube.com/@ConnorAidan To listen to the audio-only version, click here: Stories on Spotify

Monday

It started with a murmur. What was hardly a hushed whisper at first began to build and build, as spurts of conversations sprouted around from all sides. Something was going on. Something had happened, and it wasn’t good. Because all around, those hushed whispers held a feeling, and it was a feeling of unease.

—

RINGINGINGING. *school bell*

“Did you get my super, special, amazing, heartfelt, birthday text? I’ve been working on it all morning.”

In their crowded high school halls, Katie was bubbling with energy, as usual, and much to the chagrin of Alex. Always bubbling. Bubbly Katie.

“Oh uh, I haven’t read it yet…” Alex pulled out her phone to check for the message, but no message was there. “Are you sure you sent it? I don’t have any new… Oh wait, I don’t have any signal.” I don’t have any signal? “Give me a sec.” Alex fumbled with her phone to restart it, but the connection issue persisted.

An uncharacteristic frown crossed bubbly Katie’s face. “Come on! I spent all morning writing it. The least you could do is read it,” Katie pouted. “Fine, if you want it that way, I’m not afraid to embarrass you right here, right now by reading it out loud in front of everyone!” Katie reached down to pull out her phone and began to read. “Dear Alex, your bestest friend in the whole world wanted to wish you the happiest birthd—… Oh wait, I don’t have any signal either.” Katie began to furiously tap on her phone.

The bell rang, cutting their conversation short.

Mr. Sanderson’s fourth period was abuzz with conversation. “I can’t get my phone to work, can you?” “No, I don’t have any signal.” “Hey, I don’t have any signal either!”

The ever-plump Mr. Sanderson walked in and hushed the crowd as he strode toward his seat. “Alright, alright, settle down class. Time to learn. Switch your brains into World History mode!” Mr. Sanderson chuckled at himself as he took his seat with a hard plunk and started clicking around on his computer. “Hold on, I just gotta pull up the… hmm…wait a second.” Mr. Sanderson sat back in his chair and gave his scruffy beard a stroke, before returning for a second round of more frantic clicking. After an unsuccessful round two, Mr. Sanderson sunk back into his chair with a deep sigh.

Around Alex, people began to murmur. Mr. Sanderson rose to silence them. “Alright class, just give me a second. I can’t seem to get the school Wi-Fi to work. I’m just going to pop next door to Ms. Robinson’s class to ask. Open your textbooks to uh… to the last thing we learned about.” Satisfied with his not so precise directions, Mr. Sanderson sauntered out the door. “Hey Olive, I can’t seem too…” The rest was cut off as the door closed behind him.

Immediately, the classroom was a hive of activity.

“Can anyone get their phone to work? I don’t have any signal.”

“Not me.”

“Not me either.”

“Do you think they installed a cell blocker? You know, to keep us from like, cheating?”

“Seriously? Why would they do that?!”

“But even the school Wi-Fi doesn’t show up. They wouldn’t block their own Wi-Fi. Maybe it’s because…”

Alex, who wasn’t much of a talker, especially in the absence of Katie, sat back and let the conversations envelop around her. Already, her thoughts were beginning to whirl. The school Wi-Fi isn’t working either? How could both the Wi-Fi and cell service be down at once? Is that even possible?

Mr. Sanderson opened the door, bringing the boisterous conversation to a halt just as it approached its climax. “Well class, it seems like the network might be down in the building. But don’t worry,” Mr. Sanderson said with a smug grin. “We’ll just have to do this lesson OLD SCHOOL.” After he said that, he waddled up to the seldom-used whiteboard and uncapped a marker. “Now… can anyone tell me, uh… Joshua, summarize what you learned for homework.”

—

Class passed by excruciatingly slowly as Mr. Sanderson attempted to improvise a lesson on the fly. Of course, none of the class was paying any attention, as everyone was too busy secretly pulling out their phones every few minutes to see if it was back up. Alex was similarly following suit, glued to her phone turning the lock screen on and off, hoping each time that somehow something would change.

She continued this on the ride home in Katie’s not-so-brand-new-preowned car, giving updates to Katie as she went. But even though they were getting further and further from the school grounds, the reception still wasn’t coming back.

“Is it back now?” Katie asked, hands firmly planted at 10 and 2 as she headed towards Alex’s house.

“No.”

“But we’re like at least 50 miles from school at this point!”

“Katie, I don’t think our town is even 50 miles wide in total.”

“You know what I mean.” Katie retorted. And then again, after a brief pause, “What about now?”

“Oh wow, it’s back!”

“Really?!”

“Nope.”

—

Sonya was already home when Alex arrived. Shuffling around the kitchen, she looked up as her younger sister entered.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the birthday girl! Happy birthday Alex!” She paused briefly to pull out a store-bought cake that she had until then kept hidden behind her. “And look, your big sis even got you a cake!” Her smile beamed in direct contrast to the heavy bags under her eyes.

“Thanks.” Alex’s curtness spoke volumes.

Sonya continued her shuffle around the kitchen, speaking as she moved. “I’m so so sorry that I can’t stay for your special day, but you know tonight I have the night shift at the hospital. But I promise to make it up to you. What do you think maybe this weekend you and I—”

Alex cut her off. “I know. You always have the night shift.”

Sonya stopped in her tracks. “Well, that’s not technically true. But you know it’s easier to pick up overtime hours now that—”

“I know. Thanks. I’m fine. I’m pretty busy right now anyways. The usual. Homework, and a test on Monday. Anyways, Katie’s stopping by after her work to celebrate with me.”

After taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Sonya replied. “Oh. Well… that’s good. Of course, she’s welcome anytime. You know, maybe we can all—”

“I’ve got to do my homework now,” Alex said, ending the conversation by shutting the door to her room.

—

Immediately after shutting the door, Alex slung off her backpack and sat down in front of her computer. Please. Please tell me it’s working here. But after some increasingly frantic clicking, and the subsequent unplugging and replugging of cables, she was forced to acknowledge that it was in fact not working here either. Even the router refused to submit to her tampering. No Wi-Fi at school or here. Where’s my phone… Still no cell service. Maybe if I… Oh come on! Why today?!

Alex slouched back into her chair, eyes staring up at the ceiling. From down the hall, she heard her sister calling to her. “Okay Alex, I’m heading off to work now! Tell Katie I said hi! I’m sure you two can rummage up something from the fridge. Save me a slice of cake! Oh, and don’t stay up too late! And don’t forget I love you!”

How could I forget. Alex waited until she heard the front door shut before creeping out of her room back into the kitchen. On the counter sat the now unboxed cake, on which some underpaid grocery store employee had been forced to pipe:

Happy Birthday Alex! Love Sonya, Mom, & Dad

But for Alex the message only stirred up anger.

—

“Well, I think it’s sweet,” Katie said while munching on a slice of cake. “It shows that she cares about you.”

Katie and Alex were sitting in the living room, the now partially eaten cake residing on the coffee table in front of them. The TV wasn’t working either—only displaying static—so they were forced to choose one of Sonya’s cheesy DVDs. Katie hadn’t even bothered to change out of her McDonald’s uniform.

“You know, I wonder if the internet is out at my house as well. Actually, do you think my parents even remembered that I was coming over here tonight? Oh! Do you think they think I’ve been kidnapped?!” Katie was always one to err on the side of dramatic. This time, it seemed kidnapped child was the role she selected.

“I just hope it’s back up by tomorrow,” Alex mumbled in between bites of cake. “You know, I think I read something once about how a guy dug too deep and accidentally cut the main fiber cable to a city, leaving them without any service. Maybe that’s what happened here.”

“You think so?” Katie asked.

“Maybe. I think they couldn’t even call 911 or anything. It was a big deal.”

“Oh… Do you think Sonya is having to deal with that right now?”

Katie bringing up Sonya again dampened Alex’s mood. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s very good at always handling everything, even if you don’t want her to.” The last bit Alex mumbled under her breath.

“You know, I don’t understand why you hate Sonya so much now. With what you two have been through, I figured—”

Alex quickly cut her off to change the subject. “What about your parents? Don’t they like, work from home on the internet?”

Katie leaned back into the couch, as if the thought had just now dawned on her. “Oh yea… I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. Well… then I hope it comes back soon!” After that momentary pause, she perked back up, as if all the doubt had already left her mind. “Anyways, since it’s still not back up, I guess I have to read my super special birthday message to you in person!” She picked up her phone from the table. “Dear Alex, your bestest friend in the whole—”

Alex quickly snatched the phone out of her hand. “Please don’t read it out loud! I’ll literally die of embarrassment!”

—

That night Alex lay in bed, staring across at the blank computer monitor over on her desk. It will be alright. It’s just one day. You can survive one day. As long as it’s back up tomorrow, everything will be okay. No need to panic.

Tuesday

It still wasn’t back.

As Alex walked through the school halls, she could feel the outward projected misery around her. It seemed like the entire school was reeling from a great loss. All around, people were trading stories of their own home experiences.

“Yea, our Wi-Fi didn’t work either! And neither did the TV! My Dad was absolutely pissed that he missed football.”

“Who cares about your Dad and football! Joshua and I were supposed to go on our third date last night but I couldn’t even text him to find out where!”

Now that sounds traumatic. Alex walked by several pockets of similar conversations. It seemed the outage was the only thing anyone was capable of thinking about. Even Katie was noticeably on edge.

“My God Alex when I got home last night my parents were freaking out.”

“Did they think you were a helpless kidnapped child?”

“No! They didn’t even care about me! They were too concerned with how they were going to report in for work tomorrow.”

“Ouch.”

Katie, disappointed that she hadn’t been heralded as the helpless kidnapped child, shifted the conversation. “What about you? What did you do after I left? Don’t you usually spend like all night online?”

Alex thought about the night before. About how she had woken up every few hours just to check if it had come back on. “Yea… it was, not very fun.” Habitually, she pulled out her phone again, only to be reminded that it still had no service.

—

On their way home, Katie stopped for gas, only to find that all the pumps were now cash only. They went inside to ask the clerk.

Katie approached the counter, with Alex trailing slightly behind. “Excuse me, it won’t take my card.”

“Sorry gals, cards don’t work with the internet being down. Cash only.”

Katie let out an overly dramatic sigh, before reaching into her purse to try to scrounge up some bills. “Cash only… who even carries cash anymore… I don’t even think I have… Oh! Ugh.” Katie had only been able to find one $5 bill. “Well, I guess I’d like $5 of gas please!”

Alex stood back, observing the conversation. Cash only… So is everywhere like this? She looked in her own wallet and found only disappointment.

—

When Alex arrived home, she found Sonya slumped on the couch, hospital scrubs still on. On the table sat a half-eaten bowl of microwavable mac and cheese and a newspaper.

Sonya perked up seeing Alex come through the door. “Alex! Welcome home.”

“Hey.”

“You won’t believe what happened last night. I showed up to the hospital, and the ENTIRE network was down! We couldn’t access any of the patient records, and all night they had us running around, trying to find the paper files. I didn’t even know we had paper files!”

Alex mumbled something under her breath as she walked into the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge.

Sonya swiveled on the couch to face Alex’s direction, and continued, “You know, you didn’t tell me yesterday that everything was out.”

Alex came out of the kitchen, juice box in hand. “I thought you knew.”

Sonya deflated. The fatigue was visible across her face. “Alex…” Sonya turned back and grabbed the newspaper off the coffee table. “Anyways, one of the doctors coming in for the morning shift brought this in. He let me snag it off him since he was done with it.

Figures. We are a family of handouts now. Alex grabbed the newspaper from Sonya, and looked down at the front page.

—

SERVICE DOWN ACROSS ENTIRE COUNTY

Across the entire county, all telephone, internet, and cable services are down. As all networks continue to be inoperable, WNYB News has been unable to reach outside county borders to assess the full scale of the outage. Members of our Frontline Team personally drove out to Telecom’s city branch building to request a comment, but as of publishing no comment has been given. It is our hope though that Telecom will be able to provide a statement shortly. By then, other Frontline members should be back from neighboring counties to see if this is a larger-scale issue…

—

“Wow,” is all Alex managed to get out.

“I know right. Anyways…” Sonya paused briefly before continuing, “Because of all the pandemonium they need me to come in again for another shift tonight.”

“You usually have Tuesdays off.”

Sonya sighed. “I know. But with all THIS,” she emphatically waved her hands in the air, “it’s different. If they can’t get stuff back online soon I think we’re going to be in big trouble. They need all the help they can get.

Alex stared at Sonya before turning around to head to her room. “Okay,” is all she responded.

As soon as Alex closed the door, she fell face-first onto her bed. Turning over, she glanced at the blank computer monitor mocking her from her desk before pulling out her phone. Still no service. Still nothing. She sat up and walked over to her computer to begin a cycle of increasingly frantic clicking that she already knew wouldn’t give her the results she wanted. After a while, she crashed back into her chair and let out a grunt of frustration. What is going on! How is it still not back yet?! What could possibly have happened? Why did it have to go out now? Now, of all times!

Alex’s frustration soon gave way to anguish. That night, after Sonya had left for work, Alex sat on the couch eating her second bowl of microwavable mac and cheese, staring at the blank TV screen in front of her. Things wouldn’t be like this if Mom and Dad were here.

Wednesday

The student body’s previous day of despair had now been replaced with outright agitation. The outage persisted, and now the conversations had shifted towards conspiracy theories.

“I bet someone was digging for oil and cut all the lines.”

“If that’s true, then why wouldn’t Telecom have blamed them? Not saying anything sounds really shady.”

“They’ll have to say something soon, otherwise the government will do something.”

“Well, my Dad says that the government and Telecom are working together to control us!”

“Joshua, tell your Dad to go back to watching football.”

“He can’t!”

Alex looked once again at her phone before putting her bag in the locker.

—

Sonya was already gone by the time Alex arrived home from school. On the coffee table was the newest paper and a sticky note on which Sonya’s terrible handwriting sprawled:

Had to go to work earlier than normal. Still CRAZY. For your reading pleasure. Love u!

The newspaper didn’t reveal much new information. Only that now they were sure the outage at least expanded to all the neighboring counties, and that Telecom still hadn’t issued a statement despite mounting pressure from local government officials.

They must have really messed up. Alex put down the paper and rummaged in the fridge for a juice box. Getting pretty low on mac and cheese. Wonder if Sonya knows about the cash thing.

Alex returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch. I wonder if she secretly enjoys being at work. Then at least she doesn’t have to be here with me. She took a sip of her juice box, before checking her phone once more just to be sure.

Alex eventually turned her meandering gaze to the front window and noticed something off. A piece of paper clung to their hedge that she hadn’t noticed when she first got home. Tiptoeing outside barefoot to snatch it, she realized it was actually a printed out flier.

—

TAKE BACK WHAT IS YOURS

We the people will not stand for this injustice and restriction of basic human rights. Do not believe the Telecom lies. Do not believe the government lies. Stand with us and demand answers.

On Friday, August 7th starting at 12PM we will gather in front of the Telecom building and demand answers.

—

Along with the text, the page was mostly dominated by the large black and white silhouette of a face, or at least one that looked like it had been run through the photocopier one too many times, destroying most of its identifiable features.

Creepy. Some poor schmuck must have been going door to door with these. Probably made them himself to try to prey on people’s insecurities. Who would even believe this crap? Still, the silhouette of a face unsettled Alex. Though it lacked features, its strangeness succeeded in eliciting a very off-putting presence.

Alex brought the flier inside and tossed it on top of the ever-growing pile of loose school papers that had taken semi-permanent residence on her desk.

That night, Alex once again found herself laying in bed, staring across at the blank computer monitor. Her agitation was beginning to turn into desperation. Surely tomorrow, at least something will be back up. Anything. I mean, won’t people be out of work? It’s been like…one-two-three days! Her gaze then drifted over to the flier still on her desk. In the dimly lit room, the face seemed almost alive. Alex got out of bed, grabbed the paper, and turned it face down. If this goes on much longer, people will start believing this crap.

Thursday

It seemed that people were in fact believing this crap. At school, Alex was once again surrounded by conversations about the outage. But this time, all anyone was talking about was the flier.

As Alex waded through the crowded halls towards her locker, Katie ran up from behind. “Alex! Hey Alex!” Katie, looking perturbed, held up the flier. “Look at this creepy flier that was taped to my door last night!”

Alex skimmed the flier, confirming that it was the same as hers. Yet again, she was confronted with that face. “Yea, I got the same one too. Creepy mug.”

“Do you think it’s true? About Telecom and the government?”

“Of course it isn’t true. It’s probably just some guy trying to take advantage of the situation to rile people up.”

Katie frowned, before continuing, “But still, everyone at school seems to have gotten one. That would be pretty hard for just ‘some guy’ to do!”

Alex had to agree with her on that one. Though their town was pretty small, going door to door in one day would have taken a lot of work.

Katie continued, “Anyways, my parents were pretty freaked out about it. You know how they get about these… things.” Alex knew what she meant. Katie’s parents were very susceptible when it came to conspiracy theories. Katie held up the flier again. “As soon as they saw it they were all doom and gloom. I mean, they’re already super anxious. And now this! They haven’t been able to work for like three days now!”

Alex could see how torn up all this was making Katie, how her parents’ anxieties were starting to map onto her own. Alex wished she could comfort her, but didn’t know what to say.

Just before lunch, the principal came over the intercom announcing an impromptu school-wide assembly to take place before third period. As Alex filed into the packed gymnasium along with the rest of the students, she noticed several teachers huddled together in the corner talking excitedly, as if something big was about to happen.

After the students had all crammed in, Principal Moreno took his place at the podium in the center of the basketball court. He carried with him a loose stack of papers, which he briefly thumbed through before addressing the crowd.

“Hello students. I hope you are all doing well today. As you know, a few days ago our town experienced an outage of all phone, internet, and cable TV services.”

The crowd of students murmured in agreement.

“Well, I must inform you that we have just received an official letter from the federal government. It seems that the outage is in fact across our entire country.”

Immediately the students erupted into conversations. Alex nervously looked around to see if she could spot Katie.

From the podium, Principal Moreno raised both his hands, “Now now, please! I haven’t finished yet. Because of this national outage, the President has decided to declare a national State of Emergency…”

The students erupted again before he could even finish the sentence. This was not the news they wanted to hear. Alex finally managed to spot Katie on the other side of the gym, busily speaking to those around her.

Again, Principal Moreno tried to calm the crowd. “Please everyone! Please settle down. It will all be okay. This is just a formality so that the government can distribute aid where it is needed. There is no need to panic.” But to Alex, his tone seemed more like he was trying to convince himself than them. “That being said, since it appears that the government is preparing for this to become an extended situation, we have decided to cancel school tomorrow in order to hold a school-wide faculty meeting to address adjusting certain procedures going forward. So, please let your parents and guardians know about the situation and make sure to…”

—

It was safe to say that if the students weren’t anxious before, they were now in a full blown state of panic. The flier, coupled with the unfortunate timing of the announcement, had everyone convinced they were in the middle of some kind of giant conspiracy in motion.

Katie, most of all, seemed incredibly shaken after the assembly. “This isn’t good. This is not good,” she said, pacing back and forth in front of Alex in the crowded hallway. She stopped and turned to face Alex. “A national emergency… Alex, my parents are going to freak out when they hear this!”

Alex could feel the anxiety pouring out of Katie. In truth, Alex was just as anxious as well. Alex started, “I’m sure… maybe…” but was unable to find the words needed to calm down Katie. Why this? Why now?

“You don’t understand!” Katie shouted, resuming her pacing. “My parents… you know what our situation is like. You know how hard it’s been. They can’t be out of work for this long… I can’t be the only one feeding us on my shitty McDonald’s minimum wage!”

At this point, Katie was reaching mass load and looked like she could break down at any moment. And if Katie broke, Alex knew she was sure to follow. Think of something to diffuse the situation. Think Alex. Think. Think think think!

Katie began to whimper, “Why is this happening to me…”

“What if we went to that protest?”

“What?” Katie looked up at Alex, sniffled, and rubbed her eyes.

Alex grabbed Katie’s bag and dug around until she found the flier. “That protest. From the flier.” She held up the flier so that Katie could see it. “See, it says it’s tomorrow at noon. And now we don’t have school tomorrow.”

“You want to go to the protest?” Katie said.

“Well…” Alex reread the flier. Stand with us and demand answers. “Maybe if we go, we can get some answers. Maybe if enough people show up, they’ll be forced to explain what’s going on.” Already, Alex realized that the reasoning seemed far-fetched at best, but right now she wanted more than anything to get Katie out of this mess. After all, it had been Katie who had helped her so much during her lowest lows.

Katie stopped rubbing her eyes and focused entirely on Alex. “You think if we go to the protest, things will get better?” At this point, it looked like Katie was ready to believe anything.

Alex reached out and put her arms on Katie’s shoulders. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Katie leaned in to turn it into an embrace, sniffled, and faintly smiled. “I missed my old Alex.”

—

On the ride home, Alex could only think about how this was definitely a bad idea. She was sure that nothing good would come of it, and that a bunch of angry people grouped together did not often lead to great results. But, perhaps a bit selfishly, she too wanted answers. Alex stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by.

Day 4… and it’s out all over the country… and no one knows what’s going on? How is that even possible? There’s got to be something. SOMEBODY has to know what’s going on. They must just be keeping quiet to cover their asses… But day 4. DAY 4! Alex’s thoughts continued to spiral more and more. And cards don’t work. Do they expect us to just pay for everything in cash forever? Do people even have that much cash? Does Sonya? What are we going to do for food next week? Can you even withdraw from the banks if their networks are down as well?

The frustration continued to build as Alex arrived home to find a very tired Sonya sprawled out on the couch. It looked as if she had only recently gotten home, like she had been working straight through since yesterday. Get yourself together.

Sonya rubbed her tired eyes. “Hey Alex. I heard at work that we’re in a State of Emergency. What’s school saying? Is there anything I can get for you? Any way I can help?”

“No.” Alex’s frustration continued to rise. I am not a baby. I can take care of myself.

“Are you sure? Maybe I can—”

“I don’t need your help!” Alex snapped back. “You are not my Mom!”

Sonya sat up on the couch. “Alex, I know I’m not your Mom. But it’s my job now to take care of you—”

Alex slammed her fist on the counter. “I can take care of myself!” Her voice rose louder and louder, the pent up frustration pouring out of her. “I didn’t ask you to come back after they died! I could have taken care of myself! I’m not a baby!” At this point, tears were welling up in her eyes.

Sonya rubbed her temples. “Alex, please. Can we not do this again right now? I’ve just had a double shift at the hospital and am running on, like, max 3 hours of sleep.”

“Then leave me alone! Stop trying to butt into my life! Stop trying to baby me and pretend that you’re Mom when we both know that you aren’t!” At this point, Alex’s yells were at peak volume.

“Alex—”

“No! Don’t Alex me!”

Finally, Sonya couldn’t take it anymore. Standing up, she shouted back, “Do you think I wanted to come home Alex?! Do you think I wanted to drop out of med school to move back to our shitty town to take care of you?! To deal with how much of an emotional wreck you’ve become?! Do you think their deaths didn’t destroy me just as much as it destroyed you?!” Tears streamed down her face.

Instantly, Sonya knew she had gone too far. “Alex… Alex, I didn’t mean that—”

But by then, Alex had already slammed her bedroom door shut.

Breathing rapidly with tears still streaming down her face, Alex ran to her commuter and began to click around frantically. “Please be back on. Please. Please… please…” But no matter what she did, the internet was unyielding in its silence.

Tears rained down on the keyboard as Alex desperately tried to get anything to work. “Please… please… I need to see them. Please…”

Alex collapsed into a full sob at her desk. No matter what she did, the tears would not stop.

“Please…”

Friday

Alex woke up Friday morning in her bed—still in yesterday’s clothes—having apparently made the transition from her desk sometime overnight. After a long shower and a change of clothes, Alex cracked open her door to take a peek outside.

Sonya was sprawled out on the couch—also still in yesterday’s clothes—fast asleep. It was unclear if she had stayed up waiting for Alex to return, or had just passed out from sheer work-induced exhaustion.

Alex gently closed the door and returned to her bed. Okay. It’s just after 10 now. Katie should be arriving soon. She spent the next few minutes looking out the window, waiting to spot Katie’s car. It was a good distraction from having to think about last night.

She realized that she hadn’t told her sister where she was going, or even that school was canceled, but at this point she didn’t care. Yesterday’s fight had solidified her desire to go to the protest. She wanted answers. She wanted the internet back. And she would do anything for that.

Katie’s car arrived in the driveway and gave a brief honk, immediately making Alex tense up. She did not want Sonya to wake up. She did not want to have to deal with that right now. Thankfully, mercifully, Sonya was still asleep when Alex opened the door. Carefully, she crept by the couch, and with the utmost care, opened and closed the front door.

“Woah. You look rough. What happened last night?” Katie watched Alex as she entered the car and began to buckle.

“No—Nothing… nothing,” Alex responded.

But Katie wouldn’t accept the response. “You sure nothing happened? You look like, pardon my French, a wreck.”

“Wreck is an English word,” Alex retorted, before letting out a deep sigh. “Sonya and I got in a fight last night.”

“You and Sonya always get in fights.”

“Yea. But this one… I don’t know. This one hurt.”

Katie reached over and squeezed Alex’s hand. “Well, now you’re with me and you don’t have to think about any of that anymore. Now, we’re rebels on a secret mission to infiltrate a protest and demand answers!”

Alex responded by squeezing Katie’s hand back. “You’re in a cheery mood,” she said. But when she looked into Katie’s eyes, they didn’t look so cheery. It seemed she had had a rough night as well.

Katie reversed out of the driveway and put the car in drive. “Well, I guess it beats the alternative!”

—

As they drove towards the Telecom building, they passed by a few future protesters on foot. And then a few more. And then several more. Before a while, the entire street was congested with pedestrians and cars, making it impossible to continue any further, even though they were a good mile away from their destination.

Katie, attempting to find a spot to park, piped up, “Damn. I did not expect this many people to be here. This has gotta be like the entire town!”

“I know right,” Alex replied, looking to see if she could make out anyone in the crowd.

They were forced to continue the journey on foot, blending into the crowd of protesters as they marched towards their destination. Katie grabbed Alex’s hand. “So we don’t get separated,” she said. Once again, Alex was reminded just how much she needed Katie.

The crowd continued to get denser and denser as they waded their way towards its epicenter. I’m starting to have a bad feeling about this. Well, maybe I ALWAYS had a bad feeling about this. Already people were getting heated, roughly bumping others aside to get past them.

After a particularly rough shove, Katie turned back and snapped, “Hey bud! Chill out! We’ll all get there eventually!”

The crowd reached its peak right in front of the Telecom building, where a dozen or so police officers stood guard in front of its entrance. Unfortunately, from Alex’s perspective it looked like the protesters outnumbered them around 100 to 1. Their presence seemed to have little effect on the crowd, who were by now getting even more boisterous, even though the protest wasn’t due to officially kick off for another hour.

A disheveled man shouted from amongst the crowd. “Tell those Telecom fuckers to get out here now and tell us what’s going on!”

“YEA!” shouted the crowd in unison.

Emboldened, the man continued. “It’s our fuckin’ right to know what’s going on! So tell them fuckers to come out here right fuckin’ now!”

Wow. He sure likes to say fuck. Alex felt Katie squeeze her hand to confirm that she was still there.

“Alex, I don’t know about this.”

As Alex looked around at the still growing crowd, she realized that they were now firmly planted in the middle, making it hard to move anywhere else. One of the policemen looked like he was about to step forward to speak, but the crowd wouldn’t hear him out. Alex and Katie started to get jostled, as the crowd competed to rush to the front to confront the officers.

Alex glanced over at Katie, whose face a mix of trepidation and fear. “Alex…”

The battering increased as more people tried to force their way by. A protester barreled through Katie and Alex from behind, breaking their hand hold. Seconds after, Alex felt a sharp elbow dig into her from the other side. Alex turned to confront its owner. “Hey! Watch out!” Clutching her side, Alex turned back, only to find that Katie was no longer next to her.

“Katie!” Alex shouted at the top of her lungs. But the sound was only swallowed up by the increasing volume of the crowd. “Katie!”

The man’s voice from earlier rose above the crowd. “Take this, you police fucks!”

CRASH!

Alex saw a glass bottle shatter by the feet of one of the police officers.

CRASH!

Another, this time making contact with a riot shield.

The policeman who had earlier stepped forward now raised a megaphone. “ATTENTION! THIS HAS BECOME AN UNLAWFUL ASSEMBLY! DISPERSE NOW, OR YOU WILL BE FORCED TO DISPERSE!”

But all this did was rile up the crowd even more. More things were thrown at the officers, who had to fully huddle behind their shields. Alex continued to get jostled from all sides. She scanned the crowd, desperate to spot Katie. “Katie! Where are you!”

Alex’s breathing started to rapidly increase as the crowd closed in around her. This is not what was supposed to happen. I just… I just wanted answers. More shouting. More sounds of glass shattering. More shoving. Why did we come here? Where’s… where’s Katie? I need Katie. Shoving. Shouting. Nearby, it sounded like a window was shattered. The crowd continued to compact, squeezing the air out of Alex’s lungs. Katie. Katie.

BOOM!

Off to the side, a police car was now engulfed in flames. The heat radiated over the crowd. The policeman yelled something over the megaphone again, but it was muffled by the roaring crowd. From somewhere amidst the chaos, a shout, “Alex!” But Alex couldn’t hear it.

Why… No… I just wanted answers… I just… I just wanted to see them again… Alex cupped her ears and bent down to shield herself from the heat. The crowd roared around her. The sound: piercing.

The roar continued. The heat increased as the flames tried their best to suck all the oxygen out of the air.

Hot. Hard. To. Breathe. Please. Make it stop. Air. Someone help me.

“Alex!”

Make it stop. Make it stop.

“Alex!”

Make. It. Stop.

“Alex!”

Make… it… stop.

—

End of Part 1.

To find out what happens next without the wait, head to patreon.com/connoraidan Otherwise, Part 2 will be posted around 2-4 weeks after the release date of Part 1.

#fiction #short story #fictional #flash fiction #original fiction #science fiction

2 notes · View notes

meli-r · 14 days

Text

"How do we know that the rest of the world is at war?" Yashiro's voice resonated from the back of the classroom, interrupting Touma Kouzaburou's flow of teaching. The constant murmur of the students momentarily fell silent.

Touma glanced over the focused faces in front of him, deliberately ignoring Yashiro's question. He chose to proceed with his explanation about the history of the Sibyl System. However, Yashiro's persistence became evident when, right after another student asked a question, she intervened again, rising from her seat.

“Professor," Yashiro began, raising her hand. Touma's eyes met hers as she lowered her arm.

"Wait a moment, there are more questions," scolded Touma, trying to maintain his composure.

"But I asked first," Yashiro argued, seeking an answer that Touma seemed reluctant to give.

"And I didn't respond because your question crossed the boundaries of this subject," replied Touma, with a firm yet controlled tone.

"That's not true. My question was about the Sibyl System. If we can't move freely outside of Japan, how can we confirm that the rest of humanity is in constant war?" Yashiro asked, with a mix of frustration and curiosity in her voice.

"So what?” interjected a girl from several seats ahead. “That's precisely what he just explained."

"The books claim that they have fallen into war completely, but they should present objective information," Yashiro continued. "What they should say is that it’s believed the rest of humanity is at war."

A wave of murmurs spread among the students, some nodding in agreement with Yashiro, while others simply observed with curiosity.

"But it's the same," another girl interjected, leaning her arm on the backrest of her seat. "What difference does it make how they say it?"

"It's important how they say it!" Yashiro exclaimed, raising her voice without realizing it, her gaze hardened, drawing the attention of the whole class. "Don't you see it's deliberately phrased this way?"

"And what's the problem with that?" the girl asked, defiantly.

"What's the problem? It's serious!" Yashiro responded, with growing frustration.

"Maybe it's like that to protect us, but why would you care, since you don't have social awareness?" the other girl replied as she waved her hand in front of her.

"If you had a bit of social consciousness, you would at least wonder whether this truly protects us or conditions us to believe that there is no future beyond these islands, manipulating the books to instill that idea," added Yashiro.

"That sounds like a pointless argument. What are you trying to prove?" the other girl raised her voice, standing up from her seat with a look of disbelief on her face.

"Finish and sit down," Touma's voice cut through the air with severity, his eyes scanning the room as the other girl complied quickly, but Yashiro remained standing. "Takahashi-san, don't make me repeat myself."

"But you still haven't answered me."

"You'll receive your answer after we speak with the principal. I'm sure he'll be interested to hear why you choose to attend a class for which you're not enrolled instead of being on your own. Is there anything else you'd like to add or explain, Takahashi-san?" he asked, noticing Yashiro's stubborn expression as she pursed her lips, but she eventually relented and took a seat, though her brow remained furrowed and she averted her gaze from him.

After Touma returned to the blackboard and resumed the class calmly, the rest of the lesson proceeded without major incidents. Minutes slipped by, marked by the teacher's voice explaining concepts and answering questions, while Yashiro remained in her seat, though her mind wasn't entirely focused on the material.

With each word from Touma, the atmosphere in the classroom seemed to tighten a little more, as if everyone could feel the electric charge in the air. Yashiro could barely contain her impatience, feeling the weight of the teacher's gaze upon her.

At last, the bell signaled the end of the class. The students began to pack up their belongings and file out of the classroom. Some lingered to chat with Yashiro until footsteps echoed in the silence, interrupting their conversations.

"Takahashi-san, come with me," said Touma, his tone grave and authoritative, causing Yashiro's expression to become serious as she rose, following him with serene confidence.

Looking back at the girls, Yashiro saw one of them make an exaggerated throat-slitting gesture with her finger and stick out her tongue in a comical manner. Yashiro simply shrugged with an amused smile, maintaining her composure as she followed Touma out of the classroom.

The hallways were filled with students hurrying to their next classes or chatting animatedly among themselves. Yashiro walked quickly to keep up with Touma, whose longer strides forced her to pick up her pace. Despite the bustle around them, a tense silence reigned between them, broken only by the echo of their footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. Yashiro struggled not to fall behind, keeping her composure as she kept pace with Touma.

“The principal's office is that way," Yashiro pointed to a hallway they had just passed.

After traversing the bustling corridors, Touma and Yashiro arrived at the teachers' lounge, deserted at that moment. Touma opened the door and gestured for her to enter politely. At first, Yashiro stood observing the empty room and Touma. Her eyes did not leave him, as if she were watching his every move. However, Touma remained calm and composed. Eventually, Yashiro decided to step inside, though she remained standing instead of taking a seat, keeping her distance.

“Would you like some coffee?” Touma asked kindly as he prepared two cups.

Yashiro nodded slightly, accepting the offer. Touma held out a cup and sat down in a chair across from her.

"I wanted to talk to you about the question you asked in class," Touma began, his tone calm yet determined. "I would have loved to give you a proper answer earlier, but circumstances did not permit it."

“What circumstances?” Yashiro finally asked, taking a seat.

"You're brave, passionate, and honest, too honest for your own good," Touma continued. "But in life, it's not the brave who win, but those who know when to be. The Sibyl System closed Japan's borders to both entry and exit of any individual and achieved decades of peace since taking control. In doing so, any record of our previous past was lost forever. However, the history books that teachers are required to teach by the Ministry of Education are filled with contradictions and mysteries. Why do you think someone would alter historical records?"

“To make it easier to rule people,” replied Yashiro.

"So you believe that if they hadn't done that, the civilization under Sibyl could never have succeeded?" Touma asked, squinting with an almost covetous smile for a moment.

"I had a friend who once asked a teacher why we couldn't go outside if we're born free. That was the last time I saw him. We were 10 years old. Later, I found out he had been sent to a rehabilitation center. The way his mother cried, I don't think he was going to come out. Why must people die for approaching the truth? They believe what they do for humanity is just. But what are they really trying to protect, if when someone threatens their authority, they are extinguished, whether they are criminal or innocent? What public interest can justify their deaths?"

Touma scrutinized Yashiro closely, his gaze sliding over every detail of her appearance. The long, silky strands of her black hair cascaded over Yashiro's shoulders, delicately framing her face. In the dim light filtering through the window, her hair took on an almost jet-black sheen, lending it a mysterious elegance.

Her gray eyes, deep and expressive, captured Touma's attention like two mirrors reflecting the world around her. Within them seemed to reside an ancient wisdom and a myriad of pent-up emotions, as if each gaze contained a story waiting to be discovered. As Touma studied her features, he perceived a mixture of determination and melancholy in those gray eyes, as if they were laden with secrets waiting to be unveiled.

"Truth is often a solitary journey. But questioning the established is already a significant step in that quest. Isn't it ironic that so much is said about the public interest when in reality there is nothing more than a collection of unique individuals with their own aspirations and dreams? In the framework in which we live, we are taught to sacrifice our individual aspirations for an illusory common good. There is no such thing as the public, as it’s nothing more than a number of individuals. The idea that the public interest is above private interests and rights means that certain individuals have priority over others, a conception that some find hard to accept. Of course, you wouldn't tell people your personal interests; you would disguise them with other names, such as national security, combating misinformation, social justice, equality. Don't you think they are more appealing to the public while successfully hiding what is truly important?"

“What is it?” Yashiro asked.

“Whatever is important to you," Touma replied in a soft tone.

As Yashiro immersed herself in her thoughts, reliving the conversation with Touma from six years ago at school, the world around her began to take shape. The urban environment came to life, with neon lights flashing and dancing shadows cast by the towering skyscrapers that surrounded her.

Her black dress shoes dangled in the air, and a chilly wind snaked between her bare ankles, seeping under her dark pants. At her feet stretched an abyss, a sea of flashing lights and moving shadows generated by Tokyo's bustling nighttime traffic. Looking up, she scanned the vast glass of the skyscraper in front of her, as if searching for her own reflection in it. However, her mind was still invaded by Touma's face, with his piercing brown eyes and the distinctive mole on his cheek. The wind played with the strands of her long brown hair, blowing them back and forth as if dancing to the rhythm of her thoughts.

“War is the health of the State,” Yashiro murmured, her voice barely a whisper in the night air.

"Randolph Bourne," Makishima replied with a smile, standing beside her, his serene presence standing out amidst the turmoil of the city spread out below them. "He asserted that the State increases its size and power through war, controlling the economy and transforming society into a herd, while attempting to eliminate opposition under the guise of a supposed public interest. Which crimes does the State pursue and punish more intensely: those committed against private individuals or against itself?"

His voice resonated with a subtle yet palpable authority, as if he were accustomed to being listened to and respected. The light from the neon signs flickering in the distance illuminated his features, highlighting his long, white hair that gently swayed in the night breeze. His eyes, a deep gold, seemed to reflect the same luminosity, as if they contained an ancient and profound mystery. Clad in a white shirt that accentuated his pale skin and light violet pants, his presence amidst the urban chaos was almost hypnotic, as if he were in perfect harmony with the world around him.

“Those committed against the state itself," Yashiro replied.

“Assaults on individuals and their property are never the most serious crimes, but rather those that pose a danger to their own interests: treason, a soldier's betrayal in the face of the enemy, failure to report to recruitment offices, conspiracy to overthrow the government. Murder is pursued at random, unless the victim is a police officer or a slain head of state; failure to pay a private debt is almost always excused, but tax evasion is punished most severely; counterfeiting state currency is pursued much more relentlessly than counterfeiting private checks, and so forth. The State is always more interested in preserving its own power than in defending the rights of individual citizens. Did you know what Lenin said about the success of revolution? While still praising the nefarious ultimate ideal of egalitarian communism, he acknowledged that for a revolution to succeed, it must be led by a minority, a vanguard of dedicated professionals. Revolutions are and must be led. The French Revolution of the 18th century was a complex movement involving diverse social classes, including the precariat and the bourgeoisie, yet it was led by a minority.”

“Who believed themselves morally superior. After the revolution, people who were against it or not enthusiastic enough about it were sent to the guillotine. The religion of the State was imposed.”

Makishima burst into a soft but deep laughter, as if something in Yashiro's words had genuinely amused him. His eyes twinkled with complicity, fixed on some point beyond her. A strange sense of lightness came over him at that moment. For an instant, the fleeting thought of pushing Yashiro off the cliff from where they were standing occurred to him. But that idea quickly faded, for deep within him, he knew he could never carry it out. It was Yashiro who wielded the real power over him at that instant.

However, instead of feeling threatened by that reality, Makishima found a kind of release in it. It was a strange but comforting feeling. In the midst of that shared complicity, Makishima was tempted to laugh, a laughter that welled up from deep within him. It was a laugh that reflected the strange irony of the situation in a world that seemed meaningless to him.

"The revolution is much more than street barricades and destroying drones or sabotaging scanners. That's just one part. Revolution is a complex process and movement. It's the journalist, the politician, the theorist, the writer, the musician, the teacher... and much more. Shall I show you?"

Makishima reached out his hand toward Yashiro, offering a gesture that seemed to hold a world of possibilities. However, Yashiro remained motionless for a moment, her eyes meeting Makishima's, as if she were assessing every word and intention behind his gesture. The constant bustle of the city, with the hustle of passersby and the steady hum of cars, melded into an auditory backdrop, leaving the question hanging in the air like a resonant echo amidst the urban chaos.

*****

The idea may be wrong, I don't remember if this was talked about in the series, so it's my interpretation and I apologize in advance.

AO3

#psycho pass fanfiction

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