#I was just thinking today about how hard everyone is on Wilhelm all the time and I had a little head rant about it and wanted to get it out

[billfarrah]

People are too hard on Wilhelm sometimes. I feel like I see “Wilhelm was never there for Simon/never comforted Simon” a lot and it’s just not true; I feel like people focus so much on Wille’s mistakes that they forget about the good things he does as well.

When they fight about the drugs in the music room, Wille doesn’t exactly come into the argument from the best angle, but he does make it clear he wants to talk to Simon about it, and Simon walks off before they can make things right. After that, Simon stops talking to him, and it’s Wille who tries to make things right between them, reaches out, and approaches him to talk things out at Lucia.

You could perhaps argue that he threw Alexander under the bus so that he himself wouldn’t lose Simon, and there’s probably a bit of truth in that, but I don’t think that has to be the only reason and I do also think he did it for Simon’s well-being as well.

When the video leaks, Simon turns off his phone (which is understandable, I’d probably do the same thing; this post is not about criticizing Simon), and it’s Wille who reaches out once again and tells him he wants to talk about it. I feel like in another show Wille would’ve tried to ignore Simon even harder than in the past, but no, he wants to see him and talk. When they’re in the locker room together, he holds Simon’s hands and strokes them gently, lets Simon rest his head on his shoulder and tells him exactly what his family wants him to do about the situation. He communicates.

Wille fucks up, yes, he’s in a shitty situation and is being forced to make impossible decisions, and he doesn’t always fully consider Simon’s feelings, but there are many times in which he does and I just feel like those times get ignored a lot and people focus way too much on his mistakes. He’s not as self-centred as people say he is; he can definitely be self-involved sometimes, but I think it’s kind of understandable given how fucked up the situation he’s in is.

Wilhelm and Simon are both teenagers and neither of their communication skills are perfect (Simon basically hides everything that’s going on in his life/everything he’s feeling and Wilhelm tends to get so overwhelmed by his own problems that he fails to consider the impact he has on others), and I think that’s what makes both of them so human and compelling. I think them taking a step back from their relationship was necessary for both of them at the time and I can’t wait to see how they come back together. Maybe Simon can teach Wilhelm a little bit about decentralizing himself and Wilhelm can teach Simon how to open up a little bit more.

#young royals #wilmon #idk #I was just thinking today about how hard everyone is on Wilhelm all the time and I had a little head rant about it and wanted to get it out #I 1000000% believe Wilhelm would be more than willing to be there for Simon if Simon reached out #it’s just that Simon never does #and perhaps Wilhelm is a bit short sighted by never asking #but he’s got a lot going on #and that’s why they had to break up for now! #it makes sense!

[im-a-king-baby]

I love ELYN, it was a wonderful read. 🪷

<333

Today's bonus scene is a post-epilogue snippet, because Kevan is one of my favourite characters who barely appeared in the actual fic XD

Under the cut for maaaajor ending spoilers! Go read ELYN first!

“The band should have arrived,” Simon checks his phone, for about the twentieth time since getting out the car that had picked them up at the airport. “Normally we’d meet in the bar, have a drink.” He looks across the lobby to the hotel bar, racks of liquor stretching up to the ceiling.

Wilhelm catches his hand. “The schedule I got said we were meeting for dinner,” he says. He’s pretty sure Simon knows that, but sometimes it helps to have someone else say it out loud. “So let’s check in, and you can have a shower while I ask Farima what time.”

“Right.” It takes Simon a second too long to drag his eyes away from the bottles. He keeps tugging on the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Wilhelm had asked widely around for advice on how he could support Simon going back to playing live shows but the consensus from everyone was just, ‘It’s going to be hard, but if he wants to tour again you have to start somewhere.’

“Hey! Si…imon!”

Wilhelm barely has a chance to jump before someone is bounding across the lobby. He’s a huge man with long black hair dressed in a leather jacket with silver studs and for an instant Wilhelm wonders if he should be throwing himself in front of Simon - where are the bodyguards when you need them?

Then he registers that Simon is laughing. “You can keep calling me Simme,” Simon says, stepping past Wilhelm so the man can pull him into what looks like a bonecrushing hug. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh thank god,” the man says, letting Simon go and stepping back. “Farima keeps sending emails about ‘Simon’ and I’m like ‘who?’ every single time.” He notices Wilhelm for the first time, slightly off to the side in his carefully nondescript jumper and jeans combo. “Let me guess, you’re the boyfriend formerly known as Prince?”

Simon snorts. “Kevan, this is Wilhelm. Wille, Kevan. He plays guitar.”

And now Wilhelm remembers him from the Faktory, standing off to the side of the stage with a red guitar. And the name, too. Kevan was the person Simon called in Bjarstad, the one who told Candace where to find them. Wilhelm’s first instinct would be to keep him far away from Simon, but he’s aware that - as much as he doesn’t like it - the Candace Issue is more complicated on Simon’s side.

Simon met her for coffee, when he was in L.A. and Wilhelm was stuck in class a million miles away, and Wilhelm’s phone left imprints in his palm he was gripping it so tight waiting for a phone call that didn’t come, just a text two hours later: she’s gone, all still standing and heading to the airport. See you soon xx

Here and now, Simon seems relaxed for the first time since they entered the lobby, flicking the studs on Kevan’s jacket and saying, “Did you listen to the EP?”

“I did. Not really my thing,” Kevan says, but with a grin as though this is some shared joke between them. “But we can add more guitar solos when you record the full album.”

Simon snorts a laugh, like he hasn’t been up all night for the last week worrying about The Full Album. “Let’s get through these shows first.”

“Speaking of, I did need to catch you.” Kevan’s smile drops. “There’s a problem with my schedule.”

Fuck. Wilhelm steps a bit closer to Simon as his laugh dies and he casts a desperate look towards the check-in desk and escape. “The schedule isn’t really my area,” Simon starts. “Can you talk to Farima about it?”

“No,” Kevan says. “I think I need you.” He’s already pulling out his phone. “See, I’ve got the dinner tonight, rehearsals tomorrow, shows Friday and Saturday, but in the middle I have something called a ‘day off’? I told them, this is a Simme tour we don’t do that here -”

The tension drops entirely out of Simon’s body. "Oh my god," he says, shoving at Kevan’s shoulder, the kind of easy roughhousing that he would've done with Ayub or Rosh back at school. “You’re such an asshole.”

Kevan uses his height advantage to ruffle Simon’s hair then takes off running before Simon can retaliate. Simon is laughing, but pauses to kiss Wilhelm’s cheek and shove his backpack into Wilhelm’s arms before chasing Kevan across the lobby, scattering guests and hotel staff in all directions.

Wilhelm slings Simon’s bag over his shoulder and heads to the desk, only glancing back every other second. “Simon Erikkson and Wilhelm Kassel, I think our bags have already been dropped off.”

She digs out some paperwork for him to sign - he’s still figuring out his signature, still forgetting to respond for a minute when he hears ‘Mr Kassel’ - and she’s coding up two keycards when Simon stumbles back up against the counter, breathing hard.

“Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to abandon you,” he says, and Wilhelm can’t blame him for it when he’s still smiling like that, lighting up his whole face.

He had kind of understood what Simon said about wanting to be back on stage - in that he could see it was something a person might want, even if the idea of doing it himself made him want to throw up - but he’d thought the touring was a necessary evil that went with that, not something that could possibly be enjoyed. When Simon had arranged these first shows for Spring Break so Wilhelm could come along, Wilhelm had just assumed it was so that he’d have someone other than Farima there to fall back on.

But as Kevan falls into step with them on the way to the elevator, talking about dinner plans like booking a table at a restaurant is the most outlandishly posh thing that any person has ever done, he realises maybe for Simon it was about showing Wilhelm this other side of his life. To show that he’s not alone out here.

“Di was asking if we need to dress for dinner,” Kevan says. “I said I didn’t think we should go naked but I’d check with you.”

Simon elbows him in the side. “I think we can be us,” he says. “It’s not -” he pauses as Wilhelm presses the button to call the lift, waits for the doors to open and them to step inside before he continues. “It’s just to keep it out of the bar, you know?” Wilhelm steps closer, so their knuckles touch and Simon gives him a sideways smile. “Things are going to be a bit different this time.

Wilhelm half expects Kevan to make another joke, but Kevan nods, like he gets it. “You let us know what you need, yeah? We’re all rooting for you here.”

#bonus content meme #elyn fic #I feel like these snippets keep getting longer #oops #sorry not sorry #why is his name kevan instead of kevin? #nobody knows

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (38)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Soon. Soon, death will strike with its vengeful and saving scythe. Soon the blood will flow, in a golden setting. soon... Danny will kill Hoggins. After tomorrow, in the evening, to be more precise. But before that, the festival. Tomorrow, Danny will have to do everything possible to stay focused for article on the Roseville Festival. Mattew and Melina will be there to support him, but he is the one who will take the pictures. And he will have to take a lot of them. He will not really have time to enjoy it unfortunately. Especially since they will not be the only journalists on the spot, newspapers from other cities will be there too. It will be an opportunity to see new faces... and if possible, to have an exit door. Because if he can impress these journalists, maybe they'll offer Danny to come and work with them? Maybe.

The police will also be present to monitor the central square. Wilhelm too, unless he was too busy with Hoggins. But there will be at least one inspector, that's for sure. It remains to be seen who it will be. And you will be there, holding your stand, selling your pastries with your two employees. Just like Danny, you won't be able to enjoy the festival fully but it doesn't matter, you can always have a little party... in private.

Besides, Danny thinks back to last night. He appreciated that you were more playful, more enterprising with him. It amused him a lot. A sneaky smile stretched on his face; he already imagined all the little "games" that you could both play. But he will start slowly, he would not want to destroy everything. Mattew comes to rest next to him, sighing completely exhausted.

“Did you get up on the wrong foot?” asks Danny.  

“No, the boss wanted to see me for tomorrow... he told me to focus on the festival and not on the stands to eat. But if there is the pastry stand of (Y/N) I will not be able to resist! He knows it! I would like to see him in my place, I am sure he would do the same!” responds Mattew sulking.  

“Haha it's clear, but he's not wrong especially that other journalists will be there as well, we have to look good in front of them. But don't worry, I'm sure (Y/N) will still have a lot of cakes for us. And then you can taste his famous cake. I can't wait to see what it will look like in the end.”

“Besides, how does it work in your new apartment? doesn't that make you weird all this space?” replied Mattew.

“Very well, very well... it’s true that at the beginning it was strange to live together when we used to live each on our own. But we get used to it. And then... we have several opportunities to... test the resistance of the bed, if you know what I mean.” responds Danny, smiling jokingly.

Mattew looked at Danny with big eyes while Melina who was passing by at the same time started laughing. Danny also laughed as he patted the shoulder on his colleague who was still shocked. All three took a coffee break to chat a little, while enjoying the fresh air... of the air conditioner. It was a little hot today and, in the offices, even more. So, the air conditioner was welcome. They meet Nancy, the newcomer of the team. The poor woman was lost, until now she had only done odd cleaning jobs despite her diploma as a journalist. She wore small round glasses, her black hair tied in a ponytail gave her a little schoolgirl side or the cliché of shy and clumsy women. Afterwards, the poor woman was really clumsy. How many times has she dropped her coffee? too many times to remember. And it had only been a week since she was there.

“Have you heard the latest news about Hoggins? Apparently other former collaborators are ready to testify against him if there is ever a trial. From what some have said, Hoggins has been manipulating people for years and years to get them to invest in his business and mysteriously they have all sunk. He even did it with foreign collaborators. What a son of a bitch.” Said Melina.  

“He really fucked the whole world this guy it's not possible. Let him be fucked up in prison once and for all! The prisoners will take care of him! If you see what I mean...” responds Mattew.  

“The famous trick of the soap?”

“I would rather say the famous Swiss army knife trick. It's very easy to get one in without being noticed in prison... I've seen that before.” Replied Danny, sipping his coffee.  

“What? have you ever been to prison?” asks Melina shocked

“Yes. When I started my job as a journalist, me and my superior at the time went to a prison to interview a prisoner who was wrongly accused. And we took the opportunity to write about what was happening in prison. At one point I turned my head towards one of the cells, and I saw one of the prisoners pull out a knife that he had had hidden in a banana bread.”

“A great classic that. I am still amazed to see that the prison guards are not more on their guard than that...”

Danny shrugged his shoulders; he was not surprised. As it did not surprise him if these same prisoners managed to escape. But because they are idiots, they end up in prison again for the same crime. Dumbass. Danny never got caught at least. At the same time, he did everything to never get noticed or arrested. And yet he left from afar! He learned on his own... and he was lucky. And he intends to keep his chance with him... Oh, yes.  

Observing through the window, Danny noticed that the city was adorned with a thousand colours. The last banners were hung, the leaflets distributed, the posters glued. Tomorrow, Roseville would have been in existence for exactly 32 years. And Mayor Tallis is the one who runs this city... This man is truly an impressive person. And respectable. It’s perhaps the only one that is respectable in this city.  After you.

Our trio went back to work, each on their article, Danny on Hoggins' article. So, he's hated all over the world... In a sense it wouldn't be so bad if Hoggins stayed alive. it could be the scoop of the century! the case that could boost his career! Imagine how sensational a trial article could be. Especially if it's Danny who writes it. Even if he is a murderer, this is not a reason to abandon those why he spent his youth and his studies. He has to work hard, very hard even to get to this point! While Danny was working, his phone rang. A hidden number? That's not a good sign... unless it’s still these sellers who are trying to bait you with their stupid products.

“Roseville’s Gazette, Jed Olsen on the phone, what can I do for you?” said Danny.

“Hi..."Olsen".” responds a man voice.

“Hoggins. How did you get my number?”

“I have my sources as well. But you suspect that I am not calling you out of pure courtesy.”

“Gets straight to the point. What do you want?” replied Danny.  

“Leave this girl. Otherwise, you'll regret it bitterly little asshole. You don't realize who you're dealing with...” responds Hoggins.

“No, I think it's YOU who don't know who you're dealing with. And believe me I intend to make you pay for it. The prisoners will take good care of you, when the court will sentence you to jail for fraud, plus a voluntary homicide... You are cooked Hoggins. You can hide, you can lie as much as you want, you will not be able to escape your destiny. If Ghostface does not decide to kill you for copying its modus operandi. Because he attacked poor people for a few days... because of you. He can't stand being robbed of the show. Now if you excuse me... I have a job to do. Oh, and one last thing...” said Danny Before taking on a more menacing tone: “If you dare to threaten MY girlfriend again... it’s not her who will have an accident. But you.”

Danny hung up dryly, leaving Hoggins no time to say anything. This guy doesn't lack grit decidedly... he will have been a strong opponent, Danny must admit. But not enough to survive any longer. He sent an email to Wilhelm where he explained everything that was said in the conversation between him and Hoggins. Like that, it will make one more ball at the foot of this son of a bitch.  

The rest of the day went smoothly. Mr. Hembrook had summoned Danny to set up tomorrow's day. There will be a total of 4 newspapers, including them, at the festival. It will therefore be necessary to look good! It will also be necessary to take good photos, and to transcribe the speech of Mayor Tallis. Unfortunately, not everyone will be able to come tomorrow. The Gazette must therefore allow these poor people to know what the mayor said for this year's festival.

He worked another hour or two before returning to the apartment. It was quite late, and he had sent you a message to warn you to not wait for him to eat if you were too hungry and he apologized. To which you replied that it didn’t matter, and that you would put a plate aside for him. He parked, entered the building, and went up to the apartment. When he opened the front door, it was dark. no sign of life from you... Until he sees something moving on the couch. When he turned on the light, he sighed as he saw you asleep and, in your pyjama, his coat on you.

“Honey? Honey... Wake up... I'm home.” said Danny.  

“Hm... Jed? Sorry I fell asleep... I'm going to make you warm up your plate... I hope you like Udons...” you respond rubbing your eyes.

“You should go to bed instead... you barely stand. You must have had a big day. I'll take care of everything don't worry about it... I join you after eating and after a good shower.”  

You nod by yawning, which made Danny laugh. He placed a kiss on your forehead before letting you go to your room. Poor of you.... you are exhausted. He warmed up his dish of Udons and moved to his office to work. He worked for an hour, then he left his office by locked it, made the dish, took clean clothes and went to shower. He changed, and walked into the room, to find you asleep in bed, Danny's cushion in your arm like a stuffed animal. You're so cute... He gently regained his cushion, putting himself in the place of the latter in your arms. He laughed lightly when he saw your arms tighten around his waist, and he placed a kiss on your cheek before turning and stalling in bed.

He looked at his phone for about ten minutes, just to find sleep, which eventually happened. He thought back to the conversation with Hoggins. If only he knew what awaited him... if only he knew... But that would spoil the surprise. 2 Days... it's going to be a long time. But the most amusing thing will not be hoggins' death. The most fun will be your reaction. And whatever your reaction, he's ready to react. For good and for worse. A little conversation between Danny and Jed is in order.

“Everything is ready for your little massacre?” said Jed calmly.

“You don't seem to object to it this time... Jed.” Responds Danny.

“Don't claim victory too quickly, I'm not for that kind of thing... But here Hoggins touches on something precious. Or rather someone. As much for me as for you. And I'm not going to let him do it.”

“No, it's ME who's not going to let him do it. Believe me... you'll enjoy the show too.”

“What's next? What will happen?” replied Jed.  

“I don’t know. We shall see how things develop. In the meantime, we must prepare... as much for tomorrow. That for the day after tomorrow.” responds Jed.  

Yes... we have to be prepared. Because these next two days are going to be intense.

But really delicious.

***

(Phew! this week has been just as busy as the previous one! But I managed to finish this chapter! As for the RE8 fanfic I'm progressing pretty well! I may do a little teaser post to give you an overview! As for the title... I'm stuck. I have three ideas in mind and I can't make up my mind... Help me XD I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

[im-fairly-whitty]

The Witcher Wolf: In Plain Sight

Two years have passed since Geralt was cursed with the ability to turn into a wolf whenever his medallion is removed, a curse that’s turned into a blessing now that he and Jaskier are partners in everything they do.

It’s no exception when they discover a Nilfgaardian army bearing down on Cintra, headed straight toward a certain child surprise. With Jaskier’s help and Geralt’s enchanted medallion they must find a way to get into the palace, make sure Princess Cirilla is safe, and get out with her in tow if needed, regardless of Queen Calanthe’s orders.

[Chapter 1: Into the Fire]  [Chapter 2: Old Friend] [Chapter 3: Bad Luck] [Chapter 4: So Much For Being Smart]

Chapter 5: Secrets

Geralt had been inside a besieged city several times before Cintra.

He knew what it felt like to be able to taste fear in the dead air as those trapped inside waited. A kind of waiting that was heavy with the anxiety of knowing time had already run out, that you could do nothing and that nothing could be done. A whole city that knew the cards had already been dealt, and that their only chance of survival rested on the increasingly slim chance that the enemy would make a wrong move.

Because two days had passed with Cintra surrounded by the Nilfgaardian armies and all the guests from the banquet the night they had arrived were still anxiously locked down within the castle walls. It was no secret that Queen Calanthe had miscalculated this game, and that she had few possible moves left to her to try and win it.

One possible move in fact, Geralt realized as he stuck close to Ciri’s side in the palace courtyard, watching Queen Calanthe trot her warhorse back and forth across the gravel as she shouted a rousing speech to her troops with a voice amplified by one of her mages.

This royal army she was about to lead out to the front lines was her last move. This was the final card to play that had been dealt to her. And it was a weak one.

Geralt wondered how many of the soldiers in the stiff, spit-shined ranks lining the courtyard realized that.

“They’ll be okay Wolf, don’t worry.” Ciri said to him, her voice shaking a bit as she stood straight.

Geralt whined, pressing up against her comfortingly as she rested a hand on his ruff. Her fingers held tight to his fur, betraying her anxiety as they watched Calanthe and Eist complete the ceremonial rousing of the troops before battle.

“I know you’re worried about them,” Ciri whispered, the girl clearly talking more to herself. “But they always come back from battles alright, you’ll see.”

After two days of spending nearly every moment at Ciri’s side--hearing every thought and worry she told only to him as the chill of the lockdown settled over the castle, letting her curl up next to him when she awoke in the middle of the night with nightmares, even managing to coax rare smiles and laughs out of her with his doggish antics despite his own consuming worries about Jaskier--Geralt was entirely fed up by now with her not knowing who he truly was.

He wanted to be able to do more than be her secret mute companion, he wanted to gather her up and get her out of this doomed city to somewhere safe, to find Jaskier and get all of them away before Calanthe’s last desperate ploy failed. But without Jaskier and the medallion all Geralt had been able to do was wait just as uselessly as everyone else trapped in the castle. Waiting for the right moment to reveal himself. Waiting to catch another hint of Jaskier’s scent. Waiting for Nilfgaardian soldiers to spill into the castle and cut all of their throats.  

A roar of a cheer filled the courtyard as the queen finished her speech, raising her sword in a show of might as she got her horse to rear impressively. A show that did nothing to change the fact that Geralt was sure that most if not all of the men crowded into the courtyard would not be returning from this foray as whole corpses, let alone alive.

The troops seen to and now beginning to file out of the courtyard, Calanthe and Eist trotted over toward them, dismounting when they got close. The queen and prince regent were both in full armor but Ciri still rushed to hug them anyway, her anxiety finally leaking through.  

“Be good for Mousesack, little cub,” Eist said, kissing her forehead and ruffling her hair with a smile. “We’ll be back before you know it, just as soon as we run these bastards off our land.”

“What if you don’t?” Ciri asked, eyes wide with fright.

“Then-”

“We will.” Calanthe interrupted. “We always win.”

Eist gave her a grim look, “It does the girl no good to coat a hard future in honey, Calanthe.”

“Is it better to admit defeat before we’ve even reached the battlefield?” Calanthe shot back. She looked away for a moment, then back to Ciri. “If something were to happen to us you would still be cared for by the court advisors, there are plans to keep you safe Cirilla, but we’ll be back soon so we won’t need them.”

“Alright.” Ciri said bravely, clearly not at all alright judging by how painfully tight her grip on Geralt’s fur was.

“Your majesty, if I might have a word?”

Geralt looked up at the approaching man and bristled to see it was the man from the banquet, the one with a grey streak in his hair who had smelled of Jaskier. Geralt scented the air as the man drew closer, barely managing to keep himself from growling even when he didn’t smell anything of Jaskier on him.

Calanthe nodded to the man, kissing Ciri on the cheek before waving her away to follow one of her ladies in waiting and beckoning Mousesack over instead. Geralt hesitated, knowing he was supposed to follow Ciri

“I’ll bring Wolf in with me in a minute Princess.” Mousesack said to Ciri with a smile, seeing Geralt’s hesitation. “I think he wants to be outside a bit longer.”

“Master Wilhelm has been creating contingency plans for getting Ciri to safety.” Queen Calanthe said as soon as the princess was out of earshot, her voice sounding twice as tired as it had only a moment ago. “If anything does happen to Eist and I then you’re to follow his direction, Mousesack.”

“And what is the plan?” the druid asked soberly.

“There’s seven plans at the moment, none perfect.” Wilhelm said grimly. “The pieces on the board are still moving so I won’t know which is the best until the fatal hour arrives.” He looked at the queen. “Although the longer we wait the worse our options will be...”

“We are not removing Ciri until we absolutely must.” Calanthe said, irritation in her voice. “We still have a viable chance at beating them back today, I’m not going to needlessly bundle my granddaughter out the back gate and into the waiting hands of the enemy because I was too afraid.”

“Your majesty, we are in dire straights.” Wilhelm said carefully. “No one would dream of judging you a coward for taking advantage of what few choices you-”

“I must join my troops.” Calanthe said sharply, putting her helmet on and looking away. “If the worst does happen you are to inform Mousesack of the best option for saving your future queen. Mousesack, you are to guard her with your life.”

“Yes your majesty.” Both men said in unison, bowing as Calanthe walked away.

Mousesack put a steadying hand on Geralt’s head as they turned to head back into the castle.

“Mousesack.” Wilhelm said.

“Yes?” the druid asked, pausing.

“You’re an old friend with Geralt of Rivia, the witcher, are you not?” Wilhelm asked casually.

Geralt froze, looking up to see the druid just as stiff.

“I am, I met him decades ago.” Mousesack said carefully, looking like he was trying very hard not to glance down at Geralt.

“You haven’t heard from him recently, have you?” Wilhelm asked, looking at him.

“You know her majesty has banished him from her lands.” Mousesack said slowly. “To contact him while serving in such a high position in her court would be near treason.”

“As the royal spymaster it is my profession to foretell the future and maneuver to the best possible version of it.” Wilhelm said, looking at the druid. Judging by the look in his eyes Geralt guessed the man hadn’t slept in two days. “And I see only one future Mousesack. We all die. Those of us who are very lucky will have one of the small bottles the kitchen staff are filling with poison as we speak. The rest of us will exit this life rather slowly with war cries glorying the eternal flame in our ears and a Nilfgaardian blade in our bellies.”

“Wilhelm, why are you telling me this?” Mousesack asked, voice dry. Geralt could smell the unease seeping off him.

Wilhelm leaned in close to whisper in Mousesack’s ear, quiet enough that only Geralt’s witcher hearing could be able to eavesdrop.

“I have extremely good reason to believe that there is a witcher lurking somewhere in the city and that he may in fact be interested in the princess’ wellbeing.” Wilhelm breathed. “If you have the ability, communicate to him that if he appears now it is my duty to put him to death on sight, but that the moment Calanthe is reported dead my loyalties lie with Ciri, at which point I would very much like to give him the princess, his bard, and the fastest three horses in Cintra with as much cover fire I can muster. Is that clear?”

“There is no response I can give that would not be counted as treason.” Mousesack said, just as quietly as he looked away across the courtyard.

“Which is why I do not ask one of you.” Wilhelm said easily. He patted Mousesack on the shoulder and then walked away, leaving the druid and the wolf to watch him leave in stunned silence.

Geralt watched the spymaster disappear back into the castle and a growl bubbled up through his shock. The man might know Geralt was in the city, but he didn’t know he was a wolf which meant he hadn’t broken Jaskier yet. Most importantly, if he’d offered Jaskier as a bargaining chip in the message he’d given Mousesack that meant the spymaster had his bard, which made him a very dead man once Geralt got his teeth on-

“Don’t you dare go after him.” Mousesack hissed icily, his hand locking onto Geralt’s collar before he had a chance to move, instead dragging him in the opposite direction back to the princess’ chambers. “Don’t you dare be so foolish Geralt, I will slam you down with magic before you even get two steps in his direction.”

Geralt whined and growled but angrily followed the druid as they entered a long marble hallway lined with pillars.

“I know he made it sound like he has the bard, but we don’t know for sure and it will be suicide to try and find out before Wilhelm wants us to.” Mousesack said. “Wilhelm is a good spymaster but he’s a good man too Geralt, if he’s using Jaskier as a bargaining chip he’ll keep the bard in good condition, he’s not the kind to cause harm where it’s not needed.”

Geralt’s ears were still pinned back with a whine. You don’t know that for sure, and there’s all kinds of pain a spymaster can cause in two days without killing a man.

“If Wilhelm thinks the city will fall then we can be sure that it will,” Mousesack continued. “The greatest difficulty will be getting the medallion from him before-”

“He’s magic isn’t he?”

Geralt and Mousesack jumped, looking over to see where Ciri was leaning out from behind a pillar she’d been hiding behind.

“Princess.” Mousesack said, voice suddenly very dry. “I...”

“I saw you talking to him, really talking to him. Don’t try to pretend it was nothing just because I’m a child.” Ciri said, tilting her chin up. “I know he’s different, I can tell he knows what I’m saying to him, and he feels different than other dogs do. What is he really? A doppler hired to keep an eye on me? A wolf you enchanted to be smarter to protect me while I’m in the market?”

Mousesack swallowed, looking around helplessly, glancing down at Geralt.

Geralt scented the air, paying attention this time for any other scents in the hallway but found nothing that would indicate a second eavesdropper. Well. There was no hiding it now was there? Not with so little time left to them before things got truly bad.

He trotted over to Ciri, pushing his nose against her palm before looking back at Mousesack expectantly. Tell her.

“Excellent.” Mousesack said, scrubbing a hand across his face with an exasperated sigh. “Two instances of treason in the same five minutes. A truly excellent afternoon.” He snapped his fingers and a ripple of magic surrounded the three of them.

“Just to keep anyone from overhearing us.” Mousesack explained when Ciri looked at him. “Cirilla, do you know what the law of surprise is?”

“It’s that thing in stories, isn’t it? Where someone gets a reward for helping someone?” Ciri asked, looking confused. “I had a nurse who used to tell me stories about it when I was little, but then she left and no one else tells me those stories.”

Geralt winced, trying not to think about what had happened to the poor nurse for such a flagrant indiscrecion around the princess.

“Well many years ago your grandfather King Roegner was saved by your father.” Mousesack said, glancing around uncomfortably, as if Calanthe would leap out of the shadows at him at any moment. “In return he was promised your mother through the law of surprise, a claim he made when she was of marrying age. Your grandmother was...unhappy with the arrangement, but there was a man named Geralt who stepped in to keep your father from being...stopped. After Geralt helped convince your grandmother to allow your parents to be together your father granted him the law of surprise, and the reward was you.”

“Me?” Ciri asked, her face screwing up in confusion. “You mean like a betrothal?”

“No, not like a betrothal.” Mousesack chuckled. “You are his child surprise, destiny has decreed that you belong to him as much as you ever belonged to your parents or grandmother, more even.”

“Then why haven’t I ever met him?” Ciri demanded. “And what does this have to do with Wolf?”

“Your grandmother forbade anyone from ever speaking of him.” Mousesack said. “He was forbidden to ever return to Cintra and your grandmother would have killed him if he’d tried, she is afraid of losing you like she was of losing your mother.

“As for Wolf,” Mousesack sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Apparently in the last few years Geralt has acquired the ability to transform into a wolf under the right circumstances. When he heard about the Nilfgaardians he came into the city disguised to make sure you were safe. And you found him first it seems.”

“Oh.” Ciri said, blinking in surprise and jerking her hand away from Geralt’s head.

Geralt swallowed, looking up at Ciri. If she was frightened or decided she felt betrayed or disturbed by the revelation he would have no choice but to give her as much space as he safely could. A beginning to their relationship that he’d desperately been hoping to avoid.

“I’m sorry for petting you, Geralt.” Ciri said, looking unsure as she addressed him, but to Geralt’s surprised relief she didn’t smell frightened. “I hope you didn’t mind too much, I didn’t know you were a person.”

Geralt wagged his tail, panting in a doggish smile as he nudged his head back under her hand. It’s alright.

Ciri smiled, relaxing a little as she pet him again. “Well if you don’t mind I suppose we’re alright then.” She frowned. “But this does mean I won’t forgive you for chasing the cook’s cat if you really do know better. I don’t suppose you can talk? Or change back into a person?”

“He can’t speak in this form, and he won’t be able to change back until...the time is right.” Mousesack said, glancing at Geralt’s subtle shake of the head before glossing over the problem of the missing bard, the missing medallion, and the fact that the right moment would be the death of Ciri’s grandparents.

“I heard you talking about Jaskier the bard.” Ciri said, her eyes brightening. “I haven’t seen him since two birthdays ago, I miss him. Why were you talking about him? Does Geralt know him? Is he alright?”

“He, ah.” Mousesack looked at Geralt who gave no real reply, trusting Mousesack to say the right thing. “He’s alright as far as we know, he’s in the city and he’s due to meet up with us soon. He’s Geralt’s partner, so we’re just a bit worried about him is all because of the siege.”

Ciri clapped her hands, her expression looking torn between delight and concern. “You’re his partner! You’re the one he sang all those love songs about then, how lovely! Oh, but is he really alright then? Can’t we bring him to the castle sooner so he can be safe too?”

Geralt sighed. It was probably for the best that the princess mistakenly thought the castle would be any safer than the rest of Cintra if her grandmother’s forces failed, but it was going to make for a terrible revelation in the almost guaranteed occurrence that a sober messenger arrived at the castle gates in the next few hours from the battlefield.

“He’ll be here as soon as he’s able.” Mousesack said with a thin smile. Doubtlessly thinking the same thing as Geralt. “But until then Geralt must remain a wolf and we all must keep very quiet about all of this, understood princess?”

“I understand. I’m eager to see Jaskier again after so long though, I hope he comes soon.” Ciri looked at Geralt curiously. “What does Geralt look like when he’s a person?”

“He slays monsters for a living, he’s big and strong and mean looking, even if he’s secretly a caring and honest man underneath it all.” Mousesack said, smiling at Geralt’s huff at the description. “I haven’t seen him since before you were born, but last I know he had long white hair and golden eyes like a cat that shine in the darkness.”

“White hair?” Ciri asked. “So he’s old then?”

“Older than anyone you’ve ever met, but he looks much younger than I do.” Mousesack said with a wry smile.

“Well, I’m excited to get to speak to you and have you able to speak back.” Ciri said, hugging Geralt’s neck.

He wagged his tail at her, nosing at her ear affectionately despite his unease. Because at least after several days of everything going wrong, this one thing had gone well. There was no telling what the coming hours would bring with Calanthe’s ill-fated foray into the battlefield and they still didn’t know where Jaskier or the medallion were, but at least this one small thing had gone alright. Ciri didn’t hate him for his secret and she was even eager to see Jaskier too.

If only Geralt could escape the rising anxiety that came from knowing that this could very well be the last thing that would ever go right for any of them.

[Read Chapter 6: The beginning of the End]

------------

Ciri: "Hey Mousesack, watcha' got there?"

Mousesack, clearly having just been speaking to a wolf: "A smoothie."

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #geraskier #the witcher wolf #wit writes

[michael-weinstein]

Reacting to David Hurwitz

Some weeks ago I came across the recently opened Youtube channel of David Hurwitz, a music critic who wrote reviews for High Fidelity and Amazon, and the founder and executive editor of the website Classics Today. I agree with some of his opinions, though I do disagree with him a good deal. But the straw that broke the camel's back was one of his early videos, which is titled: Classical Music's 10 Dirtiest Secrets. I was so alarmed by it, that I decided at once to stop watching his videos and to omit him from my YouTube recommendations. Today I've decided to finally face Mr. Hurwitz and express my reactions to his "secrets". Now, more than my opinions being lauded, I actually want people to congratulate me for copying the entire script, unabridged, because it was painful for me to do so, since I disagree with practically every "secret". And in response to some of the comments, Mr. Hurwitz said something to the effect of "some people here don't have a sense of humor!" Well, I do have a sense of humor (you can blame my parents for that), but if you, dear Herr Prof. Hurwitz, say you're joking, you've got to make that more clear in your arguments. Well, here is, without further ado, Classical Music's 10 Dirtiest Secrets by Mr. David Hurwitz.

[This is] the antidote to all of that PR we hear these days, that tells us that just because something is "classical", it must all be equally fabulous and we just can't get enough. Well, here's a news flash: it's not. Witness the following:

1. Mozart really does all sound the same. Yes, he was a genius. Yes, he wrote 620-some-odd pieces in 35 years, but let's face it. How different can they be? Even Toscanini thought they all sounded the same.

2. Beethoven's Grosse Fuge is just plain ugly. I mean, if you ever listen to that thing recently, it sounds like four dying cattle. I know we're supposed to be amazed at its contrapuntal mastery, and it's transcendental what-not whatever. It's ugly, let's not kid ourselves.

3. Wagner's operas are much better with cuts. I mean nothing, nothing has the right to be 4 or 5 hours long at a stretch. I mean, you go to the Met at 6 in the evening, and you don't leave till after midnight? You got to be crazy. The shorter it is, the better it is.

4. No one cares about the first 3 movements of Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique. I mean, nobody. We all want to hear The March to the Scaffold and then The Dream of the Witches' Sabbath. That's the hot stuff, that's were the music gets really juicy and exciting. The first 3 movements are more than a half hour [long], they're just preludial. I mean you sit through them politely, but then you wait to get your pulse racing, right? When the guy's head gets chopped off and the witches start hopping around. I mean, you know, he really should have just written the last 2 [movements] and left off the first 3, I think.

5. Schoenberg's music never sounds more attractive, no matter how many times you listen to it. Of course we're told that, you know, it's only a question of getting accustomed to its particular unique sound world and all that, and the more attention you give to it, the more rewarding it will be. Wrong, it's never more rewarding, it never sounds better. He was just a difficult truculant kind of guy, and he wrote difficult truculant music. Even his tonal music is hard to listen to. It's just difficult, period. Accept it, live with it, and love it, or don't.

6. Schumann's orchestration is really bad, and needs improvement. Once in a while a conductor will show up who says: "Well, you know I'm playing the original orchestration, it's better than everybody thought". No, it's not. It's thick, it's muddy, it doesn't do the music justice, and everybody tinkers with it. Even people who don't physically rescore it mess with the balances or whatever, just to make it listenable. Otherwise it's simply impossible.

7. Bruckner couldn't write a symphonic allegro to save his life. I mean, he calls some movements allegro, but who is he kidding. Even his early school symphony (you know, the one we call [Symphony No.] 00) has a first movement that's Allegro molto vivace. I mean, who is he kidding? It's not allegro, it's not molto, it's not vivace, it's all just slow. It's the way the man was, and we have to accept it as it is.

8. Liszt is trash. Enough said.

9. The so-called "happy ending" of Shostakovich's Fifth is actually perfectly sincere. Now, recent scholarship has revealed that this happy ending with the trumpets going nuts, and cymbals and timpani pounding away, crashing and bashing, is supposed to be a hidden signal for the misery and suffering of the Russian people. So while the music itself is going nuts with joy, we're supposed to be secretly sympathizing with their unhappiness and with the composer's personal misery. Well, I don't know. Freud said sometimes a happy ending is just a happy ending. And you know, it's okay to be happy. Finally:

10. It's a good thing that only about 200 Bach cantatas survive. I mean really, folks, have you listened to all 200 of them? Do you just like come home from work and say, "Heck! I really need to hear a 25-minute Lutheran penitential cantata about suffering and misery"? I mean, how many of them can we stand? Supposedly about a third of them are missing, I mean more than a hundred of them. And if you're really really that concerned about it, if you really think it's a loss to humanity, I have a suggestion of where you might want to look for them. You see, when Bach died his estate got divided up between his wife and kids, and the oldest one Wilhelm Friedemann (who was supposedly a drunk organist or something like that) had a daughter. And his daughter got married to a business man, and sometime around the 1760s or so (or '70s, I don't know somewhere around then) they moved to Oklahoma. So, if you happen to have nothing to do, and you're really desperate for a new Bach cantata, start looking in barns at Oklahoma, because they started a farm there, and so somewhere, maybe, you know, near Oklahoma City or somewhere out there in the Texas Panhandle, you may find a hundred or so Bach cantatas!

And with that, let me just suggest that you should use your own judgement, listen fearlessly, judge mercilessly, enjoy what you want, love what you love and don't worry about the rest.

Well, now it's my time to respond (wow, it was difficult copying all of that).

1. I have to admit that I'm not so hot on Mozart. I get the feeling that I must worship him because he was a colossal genius, in a sense he's an encylopedia figure (and it's weird that I don't feel the same way about Bach, Beethoven or Haydn who are usually considered as encylopedic figures, and Mr. Hurwitz has himself admitted that although he respects Bach, he doesn't like a lot of his music specifically for this reason). However, I do think that there's a very noticeable difference between Mozart's 1st symphony and his 40th (I haven't heard the Jupiter, so the analogy is not perfect, but at least I'm honest about it). Besides, I personally do not really like Toscanini, but even without that, just because Toscanini said something doesn't mean it needs to apply to everything and everyone.

2. Well, Beethoven's Grosse Fuge is an acquired taste. I mean yes, it's difficult, it's hard to get through, it's angry, and it might even be "ugly", but that's because Beethoven wanted to be ugly. If you don't like it, just go and leave.

3. This one touches a sick nerve because I am a Wagnerian. Yes, some people are crazy in order to go and be in the theater for 6 hours for a Wagner opera. I do get that sometimes it's difficult to be attentive throughout such a long performance (especially if it's a bad one), but Wagner knew what he was doing when he was composing such long operas (and mind you, I don't always agree with his megalomaniac ideas). It is Wagner's right to have Meistersinger run for 5 hours, just as it is Puccini's right to have La Bohème run for 2 hours. Once again, if you don't want to be in an opera house for 6 hours, don't go. But don't tell me that everything is better when it's short.

4. Once again, this one also touches a sick nerve as I'm a deep fan Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique. I should remark that aside from its programmatic function, I don't get the fourth movement, but I would be the first to admit that the finale is the X-Factor of the symphony. That said however, there is a place for the first 3 movements. If they're preludial, they're supposed to be so! And they're much more than a prelude! The first movement has lots of moments of teenage anxiety, depression and hallucination and one of the criteria for a good performance would be for me how much it gets the madness and extremness in this movement. In short, how "teenagery" it is. The second movement also seems to be just nice, and not having any service apart from its programmatic function, but it's sometimes good not to be going full tilt in the epicness department. Likewise, the third movement is also there for the need of what William Berger called (in a different context) "the lowering of the collective blood-pressure". And yet despite what might seem from a movement titled Scene in the Countryside, this movement actually has some manic terrifying moments. Once again, if you don't like the first 3 movements, just listen to the last 2, but again, Berlioz knew what he was doing in adding these first 3 movements.

5. Like the Grosse Fuge, Schoenberg's music is also an acquired taste. I disagree with Mr. Hurwitz's opinion that "it never gets more attractive", but I also disagree with those who say that "the more attention you give to it, the more it will reward you". Circumstances vary with every single person from one millisecond to the next. I am a Schoenberg fan, but I don't persuade people to join the Schoenberg fan club (but that's because I'm not a kind of a persudaing guy). And I'm not alone in that. Alexander Goehr, who is likewise a deep Schoenberg fan, seems to agree with me on this point (that is, I agree with him):

I don't think it is likely that it is possible to convince people who find the music [of Schoenberg] extremely difficult, that hidden beneath the surface is a heart of gold, and it's really all like Puccini if you only knew how to listen to it. It isn't like that. This was a fractious and difficult personality, with a striking and fast mind, and a feeling of responsibility towards music, musicians, students, all through his life.

Once again, if you don't like it, don't listen to it, just go and leave.

6. I haven't listened to Schumann's music so I can't say whether his orchestration is bad or not. However, I can say that people don't tinker only with Schumann's dynamics, and for some reason they get criticized for that in a way which would not happen if they would do the same to Schumann. So in a sense, having a conductor tinkering with Schumann's dynamics should not be something all that special, so stop making so much of a deal out of it.

7. Likewise, I haven't listened to much Bruckner, but I would agree that if it is indeed slow, that is the way Bruckner was and we can't do anything about it. Maybe what for him was fast, is slow for Mr. Hurwitz. And not only is the perception of tempo different from one person to another, it's different within the same person from one millisecond to the next.

8. Ok, I'm barely handling myself together when I'm writing this, and things are especially confusing when Mr. Hurwitz doesn't dare detail. If you think that Liszt is only virtuoso opera transcriptions, the Transcendental Etudes and the Hungarian Rhapsodies, you are damn wrong! Just look at his symphonic poems, and the Faust and Dante Symphonies and you'll see he was much more than just a flashy romantic pyrotechnic of the piano. You still think this is kitschy and wearing on the sleeve? Ok, fine. How about the late piano pieces?! I just keep going mad when I see how many people don't know, let alone appreciate Liszt's late works (which I'm not even going to write a blog post on, because it speaks by itself. Here's a playlist.) These pieces tell you, more even than Tristan, the Ring and Parsifal, how Debussy and early Schoenberg came into being. If you're not convinced by that, I really have no other idea to dissuade you from believing that "Liszt is trash".

9. I have to say before I begin the discussion of Mr. Hurwitz's argument, that trying to figure out the meaning of Shostakovich's music is just pure mayhem, for reasons I hope I don't need to tell you. That being said, we are really actually told that the conflict between musicologists is whether he composed the Fifth Symphony in order to save his skin, or is the music braced with sarcasm. As I understand, there is no reason why the ending should be understood as "sincerely happy" when one goes deeper. Once again, what Freud says doesn't necessarily apply to every situation. So yes, I wouldn't necessarily go as far as to say that we're supposed to be thinking of misery, but we should think of hypocrisy.

10. Once again, I have barely listened to Bach cantatas, but just from looking at the titles, I'm pretty sure that not all of those cantatas are about "suffering and misery" (small unimportant sidenote: You really needed to use the same two words you just used for Shostakovich?). I don't know how much this is likely, but go figure that the hundred or so lost cantatas happen to be the best cantatas Bach ever wrote, and what we've known till now is, forgive the expression, the rotten bottom of the barrel? But trying to go around Oklahoma farms to find them is almost hopeless, for a number of reasons. Most likely, the manuscripts could have been deemed worthless, so they were used for other purposes. The farm could have been destroyed or dismantled or whatever. So maybe we're lucky that some Bach cantatas are missing, maybe not, I have no idea what to say about this.

I saved the most important issue for the end. I have no problem with all the opinions that Mr. Hurwitz has expressed - as long as he was meaning only to express his own opinion. I obviously disagree with him, but I have no serious problem with Mr. Hurwitz suggesting that Wagner's operas are better when cut, that Mozart sounds all the same, and (though with some difficulty, if only because Liszt is widely misunderstood) that Liszt is trash. The problem I have is with him saying that these are the "official dirtiest-secret facts of the classical music industry". And once again, if he's joking, he should make that clearer.

P.S. As I was writing this, I discovered that it's apparently also available online as an editorial, so if you want to make me suffer twice, you can do that.

(Originally posted: 9 August 2020)

#david hurwitz #classicstoday #mozart #arturo toscanini #beethoven #wagner #berlioz #symphonie fantastique #arnold schoenberg #schumann #anton bruckner #franz liszt #shostakovich 5 #johann sebastian bach #cantata #alexander goehr #dmitri shostakovich

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Side by Side (Wilhelm Wicki x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @perawuat Enjoy! :)

(If anyone wants to be tagged in the Inglourious Basterds fics, let me know :) )

Wicki was more on the quiet side, a little more serious than some of the younger basterds, like Donny and Omar.

Of course, he was not as quiet and distant as Hugo, but...he always just seemed a step further than everyone else. He spent most of his time with Aldo, Hugo, or Donny.

Actually,  he seemed to spend more time with everyone aside from you.

Maybe it was because you were the newest, and youngest basterd, and he hadn't quite had the time to bond with you...

But that couldn't be it, you had a good friendship with the rest of the basterds, especially Utivich, who saw you as a God send, since all the rookie jokes were passed on to you. Still, all the short jokes fell on him. Even if you were only an half inch taller than him, he didn’t count it. But the other basterds did.

You'd once caught Wicki smiling slyly at the height of your teasing each other before he turned away.

"Just talk to him." Smitty spoke as he looked in the dusty, cracked mirror of the abandoned hostel you were all hiding in at the time. He dipped his fingers in some water and ran his hand into his hair.

"I...I can't." You clenched your hands around your biceps as you crossed your arms.

"He's not gonna go crazy...actually...he might."

You glanced at him in concern, though he smirked, "I don't remember the last time he went to the whore house with us."

You narrowed your eyes and sighed in disapproval. "Smitty..."

He finished giggling, "Alright, alright. The point is, I think you have a pretty good shot."

"But-"

He sighed as he took off his coat and untucked his shirt, "He's older, he outranks you, and the life you want after the war is different than his."

"Yeah..."

He smiled a little, and sat by you on his bed, the bunk under Omar’s bed. "You're pretty shy for an opera singer, you know?"

You rolled your eyes, though he was right in the end. At 18, you were an up and coming opera singer in France.

Of course, that was in 1940.

Then the nazis came.

The night Paris fell, you were silenced. You were voiceless because you were French. Voiceless because you were young. You were voiceless because you were Jewish.

You couldn’t leave, not without your family. You fled the limelight. You ran. It was too late... The resistance found you, and opted to take you in. You proved to be handy with a knife, and had good eye. You used it to try to find your family...

Three years later, after a job didn't go as planned, you were left for dead by the Nazis in a forest at the edge of France.

That day, your heavy eyes gazed upon the setting red rays of light that fell over the drying colorful leaves. Heavier still, because you knew you would never find your family. It was too late.

You moved your eyes over, after hearing the sounds of crunching leaves, muffled by the deafening, slow drum of your heart. You sensed a shadow falling over you.  You wondered if the nazis changed their mind and wanted to make sure you were out of their way.

Everything was hazy, every sound was dull. You had  managed to focus, and saw a man crouching by you. He seemed startled when he saw life in your eyes. You didn’t quite know what to make of it, seeing as you were on death’s doorsteps. He looked back, and called something out in German as he pressed two fingers on your neck. Though he was finding a pulse, at the time you feared it would be asphyxia to take you from the world.

You thought he was a nazi, and you thought he would strangle you.  You somehow found the strength to pull back, and reach for his hand. Your fist wrapped around his wrist, though your grasp was initially like an iron cuff, you couldn’t hold it, and your arm was trembling.

He placed his other hand over yours, and gently laid it down. “Sh-sh...” He moved hair from your face, which had been matted down by blood and soil. Something about him set him apart. 

Another face hovered over you shortly, one you recognized. One that was smuggled from papers out of Germany.

One that was celebrated by the resistance: Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz.

You relaxed your muscles, your head laid back helplessly onto the ground as the unknown man simply asked “Deutsche?” as time was of the essence.

You managed to breathe out, "Nein... Französisch?"

He didn't speak French, "Parle anglais?

"Yes..." his voice was warm, and soothing. You trusted him.  You had to. You laid back against the autumn leaves as your eyes wandered up to Wilhelm Wicki's. His voice was somehow forgiving. You wished you remembered what he said, but the world turned black. When you woke up, you were interrogated. After hearing your story, you were welcomed by the basterds.

That was six months ago.

You never could get over Wicki. You glanced at him longer than you should've. You tried to converse, but somehow it was harder to talk to him thatn with the other basterds. And that shockingly included Hugo. You thought you'd get over it eventually. You hoped it was just a crush, after all, Wicki was the one that found you, saved you, and brought you to the basterds....

But that wasn't all.

He was just one of the toughest basterds you’d met in your life... and one of the softest.

You could see the loneliness in his eyes after the basterds' laughter died out, and the cigarette smoke fades, and the bottles were empty.

He was only human.

He was a man...he was a soldier, far from home. In fact, cast out by his home. He had no one waiting for him after the war. You wanted more than anything to hold him, and be the one to make the loneliness go away. You wanted to be the one to walk with him to the end of the war.

But you just couldn't.   He was a corporal. You were just a spy. He was older, and just seemed to know so much.

Utivich smiled, "Hey..."

"I..." You crossed your arms, trying desperately to convince yourself of a lie to make it all so much easier, "I don't even like him that much."

"I'm a basterd, not a dumbass. That’s Donny."

You giggled a little, though you rolled your eyes, knowing Utivich would never say it to his face.

"Don’t.... Don't tell him I said that."

You smirked, "No promises."

Utivich sighed as he sat by you again, "Look. I know you really like Wicki."

"Not.... not that much." "Y/n. You haven't even eaten today. You know what time it is? It's tomorrow."

"I was busy." 

"You've spent most of the day pacing around in the woods or talking to me. How busy could you really have been?"

"I was...looking for nazis." You shrugged it off, though you were a fairly effective spy, Utivich knew you well enough to know that was a lie.

"When you go out, you don't come back without a scalp. I know you."

"Smitty."

He grinned a little and looked down at his hands, clasped between his legs, "He likes you."

"Don't play these games with me, Smitty."

"I'm not."

"Wait, what?!"

"Go eat something, and I'll tell you." 

"You're a real basterd, you know that?"

"About time somebody said it," he winked playfully and you rolled your eyes.

You left the room, but you hadn't even taken a full step down the hall when you ran into Wicki.  "Zut! Sorry!"

"Y/n," you realized as you stepped back thay it was Wicki himself, sporting a soft smile.

He noticed you hadn't eaten. He was holding a plate with the usual prosciutto sandwiches the basterds wrre accustomed to eating.  "I saw some left over, and knowing the boys, I knew it wasn’t them. I realized you didn't come down to eat, so I brought you something. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I..."

You braved a glance into his eyes and noticed they were reflecting genuine worry.

Maybe...it was a raretity, but just maybe Utivich was right.

"Thank you," you blushed a little, and looked away as you slowly took the plate he held out. "You...you didn't have to, I was on my way down, Wicki."

He frowned a little, causing your heart to race, fearing you'd done something to offend him. French and German niceties were so subtle sometimes, you wondered if you botched something.

"Wilhelm."

You were a little startled, and looked back at him quizically.

He looked down a little, nearly fading into a mumble,  "Or...just Wil."

Your eyes narrowed for a moment and your pursed your lips, "I thought you didn't like when the boys called you that."

He smiled a little. "But you are not the boys," he grinned slyly, "You're you."

Utivich was definitely right.

"You didn't have to, Wil."

Wicki shrugged, "You've been working hard lately. Seventeen kills in three days."

"You've been counting?"

"Hard to miss that."

You smiled, your cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

He went on, "It's hard to miss anything you do."

Your eyes widened and your lips parted...

Wicki couldn't wait anymore. It was war. No matter how much blood and adrenaline pumped through your veins, you were soldiers. You didn’t have all the time in the world. You didn’t know how much of it you had left. You didn’t know if you had half an hour, or half a lifetime left. Wicki was a little on the older side. Even if he did make it out of the war, he didn’t want to be alone.

That scared him.

He wasn't alone with the basterds. They were his brothers. His real brothers were gone. That's why he got "the fuck outta Munich while the getting was good." He didn't have anyone until he was a basterd. And if he got to see the war through, he'd have no one to share it with, not unlike you. Reunions were fine and all, but it just wasn't the same. That wasn't life. "I'm scared, Y/n." It was clear that he'd swallowed his pride to admit that, "I've been scared from the moment I found you. I knew war wasn't fair, but I didn't think of it much until there was you. I can't lose you, I can't lose any of them...I'm sorry if I'm too forward, but I need you around. I can't make it unless you do. If I make it out, I don't want to be alone. You make this all a little more bearable.  You make it all seem brighter. Days mean something now. You mean everything  to me." Your heart was aching for him. You'd do anything for him. And you admitted it. You showed him. You stepped toward him, all hesitance fading away as you stood on your tip-toes, and wrapped your arms around him, clinging on from his neck. "I'll be there, Wil. I always will be." The last thing he got that was remotely close to a genuine, full-hearted hug, was on the nights that the basterds drunkenly laughed and clung on to each other to stay together. This meant the world to him. In fact, you became his world as he looked down at you happily, with a relieved smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that happy. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and picked you up. He couldn't help it. You just meant so much to him, he never wanted to let you go. He slowly leaned in, and you kissed. From that moment on, you fought, you bled, and you lived side by side. Everything changed. Everything mattered. Every moment. Because once the war ended, you planned on boarding a plane together, side by side, and never looking back.

#inglourious basterds #imagine #wilhelm wicki #wilhelm wicki x reader #ww2 #wicki #quentin tarantino

[chilliebean5]

Fictober Day 24: “You know this, you know this to be true.”

Rating: Teen and up

Fandom: Overwatch

Characters: Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Hana Song, Brigitte Lindholm, Genji Shimada, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Lena Oxton

Warnings: MekaMechanic, pre-Gencio--Lucio’s in love and pining hard!

Notes: I want to extend the biggest of thanks to not only @robo-cryptid for giving me the prompt to help with this one which left me stumped, but also @liquidlyrium and @midgetnazgul for spitballing, and @fightmemccree for the support <3

Words: 1454

"Titanic?"

"Boring," Hana sing-songs.

"The Sixth Sense?"

"No horror!" Brigitte yells.

A smile spreads on Lúcio's lips. "Jurassic Park." He looks at the both of them. "Can't go wrong with dinosaurs."

Hana's head whips around so fast, it's a miracle she doesn't end up with whiplash. "Yes! It's so good!"

"I guess," Genji replies offhandedly, picking at the bowl of popcorn, before looking at Brigitte. "Up to you."

"Well, I haven't seen it," Brigitte says, thoughtfully, before looking at Hana. "And you're sure it isn't scary?"

"No way! It's got dinosaurs. Please!" Hana pleads.

Brigitte smiles. "All right, then."

"Yes!" Hana exclaims, then looks at Lúcio. "Put it on!"

Lúcio nods, selecting the movie from Athena's database. They found the old folder containing movies grouped by the decade of their release, and are making their way from the earliest, where Jesse gets all his western movies from which they skipped because they have seen those movies enough for three lifetimes, right through to today's modern offerings. The 1990s, for whatever reason, is the one the most of them have seen movies from, making picking one a bit more of a task than normal, and making Jurassic Park the first movie they have watched so far where most of them have seen it, bending their rule of only watching movies no one has seen.

And honestly, Jurassic Park is just one of those movies everyone should see more than once in their life.

Lúcio starts the movie and settles into the couch beside Genji and grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Genji's lap. He notices Brigitte and Hana getting comfortable on the opposite couch, looking rather cosy under the blanket they're sharing, and he can't help but smile.

"Oh gosh!" Brigitte exclaims, covering her eyes with her hands, and when Lúcio looks at the TV, he just nods; it is the scene when the technician is pulled into the cage by the velociraptor.

"It's okay," Hana says, draping an arm over Brigitte's shoulders and pulling her in close. "It's not that bad." She looks at Lúcio, covers her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stifle her laughter.

"Some girlfriend she is," Genji murmurs.

"She's comforting her, it's cute." Lúcio's stomach flutters a little, as he looks from Genji back to the movie. Oh, how he wants that, someone to comfort, someone to cuddle up to—or someone to cuddle up to him. Genji, preferably, because Lúcio has a small crush on him. He's been thinking about making a move, asking Genji out over the last couple of weeks, but Lúcio's partly afraid of getting 'the talk' from Hanzo, and another small part of Lúcio is worried that he's misinterpreting the signals, considering Genji pretty much flirts with anything that moves.  

So he swallows that down, because he is not about to make a move in this room and face rejection in front of an audience, and focuses on the movie instead. As the movie goes on, everyone hums the theme song when it's played—and when Lúcio says everyone, he means everyone, with Lena, Jesse and Reinhardt popping their heads in at various points and humming along with it. Lena and Reinhardt stay, while Jesse excuses himself, two cups of hot cocoa he made in his hands.

Brigitte seems to be handling it okay so far, Lúcio guesses the initial shock of the opener set the mood, and aside from the odd jump scare, gasp, or quiet murmur to Hana, she seems to be enjoying it.

In fact, everyone is enjoying it.

That is, until that open-shirt scene with Jeff Goldblum comes on.

"Shit, he's hot," Hana says, earning her a giggle from Brigitte.

"Yeah, he kind of is," Brigitte replies, barely audible over the sound of the movie. "I'm glad he's okay though!"

"Okay, no," Genji says, somewhat disapproving, but with that little hint of amusement in his voice that Lúcio's picked up on when he shit-stirs. "Nobody was ever attracted to Jeff Goldblum, that's stupid!"

"Speak for yourself!" Reinhardt says, voice booming over the movie. "This scene is a classic moment in cinema history!"

"Yeah dude," Lúcio adds, looking at Genji, "he's hot."

"No, he isn't," Genji retorts immediately, looking at Lúcio.

Lúcio smirks; Genji's definitely committed to this. "He is."

"No!"

"You know this, you know this to be true!"

"Sorry Genji," Lena says, "you're wrong. Even I'm a little attracted to the man."

"Then you all have shit taste," Genji says, plucking popcorn from the bowl and tossing it at Lena. It lands on her lap, she picks it up, pops it in her mouth and winks.

Lúcio glances at Genji again, sees the little smirk on his lips that he tries to hide it behind his glass as he takes a sip, and Lúcio's mostly sure he was just having a go at them.

Everyone is quiet after that. Brigitte watches the entire kitchen scene through her fingers, Hana holding her close throughout the entire sequence, and she and claps when it's done.

"That was so good," Brigitte says, turning to face them. "When can we watch the rest of them?"

"If it weren't for the mission in the morning, I'd suggest the second one now," Lúcio sighs. "I know most of you are on it and you should probably sleep."

"That's a good point," Lena says, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. "We put on the next one, it'll finish at one a.m. and we have to be out first thing--seven a.m. sharp."

"And I'm sure I don't need to lecture you all on why you need a full night's sleep," Lúcio says, turning off the TV.

"No," Genji groans, standing up and holding the empty popcorn bowl. "We're expected to be back in three days, we can do part two the night we get back."

"Sounds like a plan," Brigitte says, standing up and helping Hana to stand. "Thanks for the movie, it was enjoyable and scary, but mostly enjoyable!"

"Any time," Lúcio replies. "Good night!"

"Thanks, Lúc," Lena says, yawning. "Sleep well."

"You too."

"Good night," Reinhardt says, patting both Genji and Lúcio on the shoulder.

"Night, Rein." Lúcio turns to Genji when they're alone in the room.

"Good movie choice," Genji murmurs, looking at the tablet. "And we'll have a whole heap of them to keep us entertained for the next couple of weeks."

"Sure will," Lúcio says, giving the room a quick once-over before following Genji out and turning off the lights. He helps Genji with the dishes, tries to muster up the courage to say something, anything to turn his thoughts into actual words, to tell Genji that he enjoys his company, that he wants to spend some time with him in a relaxed setting listening to music and cuddling and kissing... But he just can't.

"I'd love to stay up," Genji says, and Lúcio looks at him, startled, hoping he wasn't just ignoring him. "But I'm on that mission tomorrow morning too and I should sleep."

"I know," Lúcio breathes, mentally kicking himself for not saying anything. After the mission, he tells himself, he will talk to Genji after the mission. "Walk you to your room? It's on the way to mine."

Genji smiles, and Lúcio can't help but smile back. "Sure," he says, nodding.

They walk in silence, much to Lúcio's mild annoyance with himself, considering he is struggling to find anything to talk about. He thinks over the events of tonight, going over in his head what he would do differently. Maybe he'd take Genji's hand, lean into him a bit more, seeing if he would take the bait, talking about his beef with Jeff Goldblum—

"Hey, you were joking about the Goldblum scene, right?" Lúcio asks.

"You really wanna know the truth?" Genji replies, stopping, and Lúcio nods eagerly. He leans in, close to Lúcio's ear, and Lúcio holds his breath. "I had that picture from that scene in a notebook when I was a kid," he whispers, before pulling away, smirking.

Lúcio looks into Genji's eyes, breathless, drawn in to kiss him, but he comes to his senses, blinking back the stupor and swallowing the lump in his throat. "I knew you were joking."

"Seriously, find me someone who doesn't think he's hot," he says, looking at the door he's standing in front of. "Anyway, this is me."

"It is," Lúcio breathes.

Genji looks at him, his smile softening. "Well... Good night."

"'Night," Lúcio replies, taking a step, then another, and for every step he takes, he hates it more and more.

When Genji gets back, he will tell him how he feels. He promises himself that at the very least.

#Fictober18 #Day 24: you know this; you know this to be true #Lúcio Correia dos Santos #Hana Song #D.Va #Brigitte Lindholm #Genji Shimada #Lena Oxton #Tracer #Reinhardt Wilhelm #Overwatch #Post-Recall #MekaMechanic #Gencio #Lucio's got a crush! #and if anyone's wondering #it was all robo's idea for Genji shitstirring about Jeff Goldblum #chilliebean writes #my fic

[conways]

Humberfloob Real Estate. How can we make your dreams come true? What do you mean, you're leaving? You're a babysitter. Babysitters don't leave. They sit. Baby-leavers leave. I'm sorry. I really gotta go, Miss Walden. Well, I need to come home right away. All right. Thank you, Amy. Sorry. Attention, everyone! It's 9:02. Staff meeting! Staff meeting! Look alive, everyone! First I'd like to welcome aboard... our newest member of the Humberfloob family, Jim McFlinnagan! - Mr. Humberfloob, I wanted to thank you... Fired. I beg your pardon? Fired. B-But l... Fired! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10! As you know, tonight is our bimonthly meet and greet" party. Tonight's host is... Joan Walden. This is where people can meet our real estate agents... in an informal, yet hygienic setting. Mr. Humberfloob, I have to get home to my kids. Ah, yes. Your children. Joan, let me make this perfectly clear. If your house is as messy as last time, you're fired! That's pretty clear, Mr. Humberfloob. Don't worry. I promise. My kids'll be on their best behavior. Great. Humberfloob Real Estate. How can we make your dreams come true? Please hold. If you leave Humberfloob's and turn left onto Main, three miles down you'll find Lipplapper Lane, a pleasant-enough street in a pleasant-enough way... where a neighbor greeted neighbor with a neighborly "Hey!" Hey! Hey! Here the hedges were hedged, the weeds were all weeded, and lawns were mowed daily, twice daily if needed. And at the end of this street, in a house like any other, something magical would happen... to a sister and her brother. Shh! Nevins! Stealth mode. Today's to-do list. Number one: Make to-do list. Number two: Practice coloring. Number three: Research graduate schools. Number four: Be spontaneous. Number five: Create lasting childhood memories. And number six: Amend will. What is he doing? Number 10: Make tomorrow's to-do list. Ladies and gentlemen! Nevins, your attention, please. You are about to witness the third most spectacular stunt... ever performed under this roof! Do you know how hard it's getting to tell people that we're related? Relax. I'll put everything back. And now, for the indoor stair luge! Indoor stair luge? I'll have to add this one to my list. Go have no fun somewhere else. It... is... showtime! Whoa! - Aah! - Yeah! - Oh, my word! Nevins! Nevins, come back! Hey, Mom. What's up? You are so lucky you didn't ruin this dress. Mom, I know you're angry, but there's something you need to know. This was all Sally's fault. Oh, really? And how, exactly, was it Sally's fault? Give me a minute. I'm workin' on it. Save it, Conrad. Why today? Why did you have to pick today to destroy the house? You know what's happening today. I tried to tell him, Mom. "Mom's throwing a very important party," I said. "All other important clients will be here." But he went right ahead and wrecked the house and let Nevins get away. Now, again, I hope you're going to ground him. Yes, Sally, for a week, but that's none of your business. A week? Come on. Two days. I asked you to do one thing today, Conrad... keep the house clean. Do you know how frustrating it is that you're always doing the exact opposite of what I say? Knock, knock, knock. Someone lose a dog? I found him next door... in my yard... again. You are a saint. And here I thought you were only dating me for my good looks. Lucky us. Larry Quinn is here. Hey-a, sport. Call me Lawrence. Okay? You rescued Nevins! Thanks, Lawrence! It was my pleasure, Sally. Anything for my little princess. Oh, I don't wanna be a princess. In a constitutional monarchy parliament has all the real power. I see. Okay, that's great. Uh, look, pal, be a sport. Why don't you go tidy up the living room. Okay...dude? I don't have to listen to you, Larry. Conrad, do what Lawrence says. Have you given some thought about the Wilhelm Academy? You mean the Colonel Wilhelm Military Academy for Troubled Youth? That's the one, Joan. I'm not sure it's right for Conrad. Oh, Joan, Joan. Joan, Joan, Joan. I have so much respect for you, Joan. Single mother, career woman, raising two children on your own, and still finding time to be the best darned real estate agent in town. I know how hard it is, Joan. It is hard. Oh... I know. And I know how hard you're trying. This is a once-in-a-lifetime proposition, and you must act now. The Colonel Wilhelm Military Academy for Troubled Youth... is what we call in the sales game a win-win scenario. A top-flight military school, and it's only... eight hours away. Oh, the phone. I heard what you said. I'm not going to military school, Larry. Look, buddy, I know I'm not your dad... and this is probably really strange for you... your neighbor's dating your mom. But here's the thing, son. Come here. I don't like you either. But I'm gonna marry your mom. And if it was up to me, you'd be at military school today. I'm not going to military school. Ohh! I think you're gonna love it. It's just like summer camp, except with brutal forced marches... and soul-crushing discipline. And one more thing... It's Lawrence, you snot-nosed son of a... wonderful woman who I'm absolutely crazy about! Oww! Gosh, I love children! Oh, Joan, I didn't see you there. Would you be a doll and help me bring up chairs from the basement? Nothing would give me more pleasure, Joan, but I do have to run. I have a very important sales conference downtown. Oh. Okay. - Well, I'll see you at the party tonight. - Sure. Mom, that guy's a total phony. You can't let Larry... It's Lawrence, Conrad. Kate's Catering. I'm here to do your party tonight. Oh, hi. Where's Kate? I'm Kate. Oh. Okay. Right this way, Kate. Mom, you've gotta listen to me... Quiet! Two weeks ago you said you would... I "specialed" it. See? Quiet! Nevins! I said quiet! Joan Walden Real Estate. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Joan. This is Mr. Humberfloob. - Oh, hi, Mr. Humberfloob. - Joan, I need you to come back to the office. - Today? - Yes, Joan. - No problem? - No problem at all. Great! - What's going on, Mommy? Mommy has to go back to the office. Oh! I hope Mrs. Kwan can baby-sit. - Not Mrs. Kwan! Oh! Hi, Mrs. Kwan. Hi. I'm running late. Thanks for babysitting on such short notice. Mmm, yeah. Okay, Mrs. Kwan. Oh-oh-oh! I'll be back in a couple of hours. Hi. Conrad's grounded, so no video games. Sally? Last chance. If you wanna make cupcakes, I can take you to your friend Ginny's house. - Ginny's not my friend anymore. Last time we made cupcakes she wanted to be the head chef. I'm the head chef. What about Denise, then? She talked back to me, so I ordered her not to speak to me anymore. - And you don't like bossy? - I won't tolerate it. Right. Well, if you're both staying, remember the rules. Conrad: No playing ball in the house, no fighting, no answering the phone, "City morgue." Mommy, can't I have some rules? No chewing tobacco. Thanks, Mom. You have my word. And absolutely no one sets foot in the living room, or else. Or else what? You're gonna do what Larry said and send me to military school? Maybe if you'd just behave, I wouldn't have to consider military school. I wish I could trust you. I wish I had a different mom. Well, sometimes I wish the same thing. Mmm. Good luck with your meeting. Children, would you like to watch television with me? - We don't have to tell your mother. Taiwanese parliament. You tell them, Kwi-Chang! No more big government! Rip his heart out! Hit me! So they slumped in their chairs, too glum to complain, and to make matters worse, it started to rain. They sat in the house... on that cold, cold, wet day... with no fun to have... and no games to play. They could just stare out the window... or perhaps get a nap in, and hope that something, anything might happen. Quit bothering the fish. I know. Quit bothering the fish. Spit hand! Oh, gross! Get that away from me! Get it away! Then something went bump. - What was that? How that bump made them jump. I think it came from the closet. Conrad? Conrad. Come on, Conrad. You shouldn't scare people. You should've seen the look on your face. It was like you saw a monster... A monster? Where? That could've gone better. What was that? I don't know. Looked like a humongous cat. "Humongous"? I prefer the term "big-boned" or jolly." Now, what are we hiding from? That was a giant cat. But that's impossible, isn't it? It's entirely impossible. You know, I like this hiding place a lot better. They'll never find us here. Scream and run. And there they go. Who are you? Who? Me? Why, I'm the Cat in the Hat. There's no doubt about that. I'm a "super-fun-diferous" feline... who's here to make sure that you're... Meeline? Key lime? Turpentine? I got nothin'. I'm not so good with the rhyming. Not really, no. Look, I'm a cat that can talk. That should be enough for you people! I can talk! I'm a cat! Yes! Where did you come from? Hmm, how do I put this? When a mommy cat and a daddy cat love each other very much, they decide that... Oh, no, no, no, no. Where did you come from? My place! Where do you think? No, how did you get here? I drove! Look, I've been here two whole minutes, and no one has offered me a drink. Harrumph! - Sorry, Mr. Cat. Would you like some milk? - Milk? Ecch! No! Lactose intolerant. Gums up the works. Oy. You'll thank me later. Wipeout! - Hello! @@Yeah! Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Yee-hee-hee! Nice spread you got here. Homina-homina-homina-homina! Who is this? Ohh! That's my mom. Awkward, yeah. Yes, this place will do quite nicely, actually. Yeah. Although those drapes are a train wreck. And this is the lumpiest couch I ever sat on. Who is this dreadfully uncomfortable woman? Get off her. That's our babysitter. What the... Babysitter? You don't need one of those, do ya? Let me get this straight. You pay this woman... to sit on babies? That's disgusting! I'd do it for nothing! Hmm! Now, let's see what the old "phunometer" has to say. - "Phunometer"? - Yeah. It measures how fun you are. Hi. Huh? Ohh. Ah. Control freak. Yeah. Now you. Hi. How are ya? - Whoa! Oh. Tap it. Listen, kid, you can tap it with a hammer, it ain't gonna change. Just as I suspected. You guys are both out of whack. You're a control freak, and you're a rule-breaker. That'll be $700. Who's your insurance carrier? - So, what do we do? - Well, there are two treatments I'd recommend. One is a series of painful shots injected into your abdomen and kneecap. And the other... involves a musical number! @ Me-Me-Me-Meow @ How many shots? "How many shots?" Aren't you precious? Maestro! @ I know it is wet @ @ And the sun is not sunny @ @ But we can have lots of good fun that is funny @ @ It's fun to have fun @ @ But you got to know how @ Hair ball. @ I know lots of good tricks and I'll... @ Stop this right now! Huh? - Who said that? - Me! Remember? The fish? Came home in a Baggie, loved me for two weeks, and then nothing! - The fish is talking! - Well, sure, he can talk. But is he saying anything? No, not really. No. Hey, Socks, can it! This cat should not be here. He should not be about. He should not be here when your mother is out. Come on, kids! You gonna listen to him? He drinks where he pees! @There was this cat I knew back home where I was bred @ @ He never listened to a single thing his mother said @ @He never used the litter box He made a mess in the hall @ @That's why they sent him to a vet @ @To cut off both his ba... @ ba... ba... @ Boy, that wasn't fun, fun, fun @ @ He never learns You can have fun, fun, fun @ But less is more! @They may ship you off to school so rein it in a little @ @ We can't spell "fun" without "U" in the middle @ Human, this cat is currently in violation of... 17 of your mother's rules! City morgue! - Eighteen! - Ol! Ooh! @ You can juggle work and play but you have to know the way @ @ You can keep afloat a wish like the way I do this fish @ @ You can be a happy fella Someone throw me that umbrella @ @ And that rake, that cake Life's what you make it @ @ So have fun, fun, fun @ @ Go insane and have some fun, fun, fun @ @Just look at me Fun, fun, fun @ @ No more rain Look, it's the sun, sun, sun @ @ So can't you see I'm as happy as a clam I'm as fit as a fiddle @ @ Yeah, the dogs may bark about you @ @ And the purebred chaps may doubt you @ Getting motion sickness! Milk? Big mistake. @ But remember this You can't have fun without "U" @ I can't breathe! Ohh! Whoa! I knew that milk would come back to haunt me. Help! Help! @"U" in the middle @@ - Bravo, Cat. - Huh? These children are smart enough not to fall for your MTV-style flash... at the expense of content and moral values. That was wicked cool! Do it again! I'd love to, but Shamu is right... I really should be going. - No, don't go! - No, I should go. I should let you and the fish have all your fun conjugating verbs, cleaning your room, doing long division. No, you have to stay! All right, I'll stay. Oh, yeah! Yeah! But if I'm gonna stay, there's something I wanna show you. Something magical... and full of wonder. - It's called a contract. - You want us to sign this? - Just a formality, really. Yeah. - Who are they? Magical time-traveling elves. Yeah. Magic. Okay, they're my lawyers. Liability issues, litigious society, frivolous lawsuits. You understand. Basically, this contract guarantees you can have all the fun you want... and nothing beds ever gonna happen. - All the fun we want? - Uh-yeah! - Nothing bad will happen? - Uh-no! Come on, Sal, for once in your life try something spontaneous. It goes against my better instincts, but... fine. Beautiful. Initial here. And here. And here. Not here! Turn it over. This is nothing. Scratch this. Smell that! Terrific. Yadee-yadee-yadee. Sign the bottom. You're it! Okay, gimme five! Four. Let's get this party started! Uh-huh! Hey, check out this room! What now? Mom says we're not allowed in the living room today, or else. She's worried we'll mess up the couches by jumpin' on 'em or somethin' And she's right. You can't jump on these. Not like this. They need some adjustment. Yee-haw! Let's take a look under the hood. Yeah. Just doin' my job. Sorry. What have we got here? Whew. Here we go. It's oversized. That's unusual. Here it is. Down, Simba! Down, Simba! Get outta here! Spray me, would ya? You... - Thanks for the help. Back in a second. Who's your couch mechanic? You oughta call Mr. Catwrench. Oww! My fur! My fur! My fur! That oughta do it. Whoo! Come on, kids. I could use a little company. What about Mom's party? What about it? We signed the contract. Wha-hoo! Yeah! One cushion left, Sally. She'll never do it. She doesn't know how to have fun. Fun? Sally, you're better than fun. Fun is beneath you. Remember what your mother told you... No one sets foot in the living room... You know what? Let's just watch some flashbacks. Absolutely no one sets foot in the living room, or else. You're fired... fired... fired... fired... fired... fired... Fired... fired... fired... fired... And that's why... Oww! This is where they buried my brother! Yeah! Yippee! Oh, yeah! This is amazing! Like being in the circus! Yeah, but without those tortured animals... or drunken clowns that have hepatitis. See, kids, I told you we could have fun! The best thing is, no one will ever... know. Judas Priest! I can't believe what I'm seeing! Oh, Mr. Quinn, I was just telling Conrad to get off the couch. Bad, Conrad! Bad! Sally, baby, angel, princess, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, okay? Nobody likes a suck-up! Where's the cat? I don't know. Ohh! Good bread. What are you two lookin' at? Is there a cat in here? I'm gonna... You're gonna... I have to... Get out of here. See, kids, I told you. Stick with me, it'll all work out. Oh, no! Ohh! Little-known fact... cats always land on their tushy. - I thought they always landed on their feet. - Oh, sure, now you tell me. Harrumph! - So, kiddo, what do you want to do for fun? - I wanna make cupcakes! Cupcakes? Oh, yeah! To the kitchen! Live from the kitchen, the following is a paid commercial announcement for Astounding Products. Hi! Welcome to Astounding Products. I'm your host, the guy in the sweater who asks all the obvious questions. Now, here to tell us about his astounding product for making cupcakes, all the way from Cheshire, England, please welcome... Me! Hello! Now... Hello! I'm so excited! Do you love making cupcakes, but hate all the hard cupcake work? I know I do! Well, forget everything you know about making cupcakes... and say hello... to the amazing Kupkake-inator. - I'm so excited! Cupcake-a-what? Kupkake-inator! Oh, this amazing device can instantly make cupcakes... out of anything that you have in the kitchen. - Wait a minute. Did you say anything"? - Anything. Anything? Yes, anything. Anything? Anything. - Anything? - I'll get you, and it'll look like a bloody accident. - Anything. Now, take off the lid. You can put in, I don't know, a carton of eggs. What? How about a pack of hot dogs? That's incredible! Why not some ketchup? Yeah, why not? How about... I know what you're thinkin'. Even a fire extinguisher. There we go. Hmm? Now, close the lid and Bob's your flippin' uncle! What an astounding product! Oh, yeah! Open the drawer, Fill the patented Kupkake-inator tray, - Close the drawer, Then place it in a conventional oven. Delicious cupcakes are just minutes away. Did you just say "minutes away"? That's impossible! You're not just wrong, you're stupid. Now, wait just a minute... And you're ugly, just like your mum. Did you just call my mother ugly? Shut up! I mean it! I will end you! Um, Cat. Your tail. What about it? Oh, I see! I've chopped it off. That's interesting, because... Son of a bi... Look, I'm not saying we're going to sue. I'm just saying we have a case. We'll talk later. Ixnay, ixnay. Hi. Cat, is the oven supposed to be making that sound? Huh? Of course. That means they're almost done, Conrack. - Conrad. - That's what I said, Condor. - Cat! - Now, that's my name! Yep! They're done! Oh, man! There's nothing to worry about. I'm sure they still taste fine. Yecch! They're horrible! Who wants some? Come on, come on! Oh... my... cod. Ohh! Aah! Cat, you need to clean this mess up pronto. We have a contract. All right, I'll try. You don't try. You do. Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am. I'll be right back. Whoa! Hi. How are ya? Okay. Look. I'm a girl. Stop! That's... Mom's dress! This filthy thing? She was gonna wear that tonight, and you ruined it. Honey, it was ruined when she bought it. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Mm-hmm. I told you all this would happen! - But no one listens to a fish! - Oy. A dog goes "woof-woof" and everybody knows that little Timmy's trapped under a log. But a fish speaks in plain English... All right, everyone, let's just take a deep breath and calm down. You know who's gonna solve it? Me. I am. I will personally take care of everything. And I know just the guys to do it. In this box are two Things. I will show them to you. Two Things, and I call them Thing One and Thing Two. These Things will not bite you. They want to have fun. So without further ado, meet Thing Two and Thing One! @Ta-da @ Oh, yeah! Thing One, Conrad, Sally. Conrad, Sally, Thing One. Thing Two, Conrad, Sally. Conrad, Sally, Thing Two. Thing One, Thing Two. Thing Two, Thing One. Conrad, Sally. Sally, Conrad. I am the Cat. Don't belittle me. Ah, yes, of course. Thing Two would like to clarify that just because he wears the number two... does not imply in any way that he's inferior to Thing One. And all of the above. He says you may feel free to call him Thing "A," if you like. He will also accept Super Thing, Thing King, Kid Dynamite, Chocolate Thun-Da... or Ben. Ben! Thing One says he's Thing One for a reason, and some people should just get used to it. It's a Thing thing. You wouldn't understand. Okay, enough! You are quickly turning into one of my least favorite Things. Listen, Convex, you probably don't wanna do that. Why not? It's just a crate. This isn't just any old crate. It's the Trans-dimensional Transportolator. It's kinda like a doorway which leads from this world to my world. But it says, "Made in the Philippines." Yes, but not this Philippines. Look, now, I'm not usually a rules guy, but this is a biggie. No opening the crate. No lookee, no touchee. Got it? Mekka-dekka we should settle our differences. Things, front and center! Cool. All right, Things, I'm not paying you to stand around and look pretty. Here's Mom's dress. Oh! Mommy's dress! - What about the couch? - Which couch? The clean one, or the horribly stained one? Ho! Mekka-dekka don't worry! Incoming! Cat, they're wrecking the whole house! - Conrad, help! - Help yourself! Look at me! Come and get it! Whoa! Ooh, yeah! Whoa! That tickles! Geronimo! Mine, mine, mine! Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine! Ride 'em, cowboy! Yee-hee-hee! Ho-ho-ho! Whee! If this were my house, I'd be furious. Hey! Klondike! Do you have any idea what happened to the lock on this crate? - It's on Nevins's collar. - Nevins? Nevins? Nevins! Put the dog down! I said, put the dog down! Why won't they listen to me? Oh. I don't know if this helps, but the Things always do the opposite of what you say. Why do they always do the opposite? That's so annoying! Remind you of anyone, Conrad? Zinga! Zinga! Zinga! Blue! 41! Set! Hut! Hut! Hut! Hut! Hey, Thing, don't let go of that dog! Let go! Catch him... I mean, don't catch him! Well, this is just great, Conrad. The whole house is destroyed, the party is ruined, and now Nevins is gone. Sally, Kojak, that's nothing compared to what's gonna happen if we don't lock this crate. Take a look. It's already leaking. - It won't stay shut. - Not without the lock. Look, if we don't get that lock off of Nevins and put it back on this crate, we're gonna be staring down the business end of the mother of all messes. We've gotta go out and find Nevins. Impossible! Sally! There's only four hours till the party. The Fish is right. We should call Mom and tell her what happened. Look at this house! There's no way we could explain this to Mom. We gotta get Nevins back and lock the crate! We're staying and calling Mom. We're going and getting the dog. There is a third option. There is? Yes. It involves... murder! - That's your option? - No. But you guys both had options. I just wanted to have one too. Or did I? - Cat, you're not helping! - Come on. Let's go get that dog. Now, we just need a heavy, inanimate object to weigh down this crate. There. That oughta buy us some time. Come on, kids! Let's go, go, go! Identical sister Mitzy... That's right. - Yeah! What do you want now? Repo. You're repossessing my TV? I'm sure I made a payment. If it's about that bounced check, let me give you a credit card. That one's expired. Huh? Oh, come on! With the lock on his collar, Nevins kept running, unaware of his part... in the evil Quinn's cunning. Joan Walden Real Estate. Be it ever so humble, there's no... Oh, hi, Joan. The kids let the dog out again. You're kidding. Don't worry. I'll go get him, then we'll have a conversation vis-a-vis military school. I don't know. Conrad's like you, Lawrence. He's very... sensitive. Uh-huh. But I suppose it's something I should consider. I'll get the dog. I'll be right over. Okay, there's Nevins. Stay out of sight. I thought the moment needed something. Oh, what will become of us? Your mother will lose her job, and we'll have to... live on the street! I can't! Don't make me go... I don't know this world! It's dry! It's like... I can't... It's too... Fish! It's too much! Would you like to go back in the toilet? On second thought, it's such a beautiful day. Why spend it indoors? - Thank you! Okay, kids. Get out of my way. This fence is no match for my cat-like grace and reflexes. Here we go. Ow. Okay. Watch me fly, kids. Ow! I don't think the little girl's even trying. What about your cat-like... reflexes? What about showing a little effort, shrimp boat? Now, push! Whaa! All right, Nevins. Time to die. - Cat, you scared him away! Dirty hoe. I'm sorry, baby. I love you. Hmm. Come on, Cat! There he is! Happy birthday, Denise. Denise? Everyone I know is there. There's Ginny and Alan. How come Denise didn't invite me to her birthday? Don't worry. Lets just get Nevins and go. Okay, kids. Everyone outside! Aaah! Nevins. Cat, get down! They're gonna see you! Hide! Piata! Piata! Piata! Piata! Piata! Piata! Piata! - Everybody join in! It's breaking! Step out of my way. This cannot end well. - Piata! Piata! @I'm easy @ @Ah, ah, ah, ah @ @I'm easy like Sunday morning @@ Oh-ho-ho! Whoo! - Oh! Whoo-hoo! - I got an idea. Candy! Candy! No! Get back! Cat! I'll get you! I'd love to buy some. Hello, Mrs. Kwan. Its Joan Walden. I just called to check on the kids. Are they okay? Those aren't children. They're little angels. That's sweet. Well, all right, Mrs. Kwan. I'll be home as soon as I can. Bye-bye. Bye. All right, soldier. Our bogey is in range. Commence search and destroy. - What? - Search and rescue. I meant search and rescue. Come on! I can't believe I wasn't invited to that party. Hey! You're a lone wolf. Live alone, die alone. Yeah. - Can we please get the dog? Can we please get the dog? Can we please get the dog? Boo! Oh, no! Oh, man! Hello, Nevins. Good-bye, Conrad. Not so tough now, are you? We're dead. We're never gonna get that crate shut. And I'm getting shipped off to Colonel Von Kronk's School for Wayward Boys! Why don't we take my car? You have a car? Yeah, sure. Wow. That is so cool. That's just the dust cover. Here she is, the Super Luxurious Omnidirectional Whatchamajigger. Or S.L.O.W. For short. S.L.O.W.? Yeah, SLOW. It's better than the last name we had. Super Hydraulic Instantaneous Transporter. - Oh, you mean... - Ohh! Quick, to the SLOW. Buckle up, kids. We're on a mission to get that dog, and we will not rest until we find and destroy it. Rescue it! Rescue it! Of course I meant rescue it. Whatever. Remember, kids, there's nothing faster than SLOW. That's backwards! It makes no sense. Look at you! Argh! Okay, here we go. G.P. S... check. DVD, CD... check. Someone from Czechoslovakia is a... Czech. Siren! What are you... What... Siren? Let's go! Whoo-whoa-ho-ho! Hi there! How are you? Yeah! @ I'm sending Conrad away @ - Oh! Oh! Oh! I can't believe you whizzed on my taco! Wait till Joan gets a load of you! - There they are! - Red light, red light, red light, red light! Red light! - Someone else should drive. - All right. You win. Concrete, you drive. Are you serious? I don't know. A little voice inside of me is saying, "This is a bad idea," but I can barely hear that little voice... because an even louder little voice is screaming, "Let the 12-year-old drive!" Now, punch it! This is awesome! - I want to drive. - I think that's a great idea. Wait! Two people can't drive at the same time. You're right. We should all drive. - Cat! Where are the brakes? - I'll get them. I think there's something wrong with your brakes. When's the last time you had them checked? Bad brake! One-way street, one-way street, one-way street, one-way street! Hey, Rhode Island license plate. You never see those. Om. Om. Air bag. Standard. I think... I wet... my jar. Can we do that again? Hey, there he is! Oh, no! He's going into Mom's office! Come on, Cat! You know, Nevins, when Joan finds out you've escaped again, Conrad will be moving out, and I'll be moving in. We've gotta get Nevins and that lock back. What are we gonna do? Don't worry. I have three plans. Plan "A": "Mess up a perfectly clean house." Done that. Plan "B": "Cut your losses and ditch the kids." - That could work. - What about that one? Plan "C": "Trick Mom's boyfriend into handing over dog and lock." I don't know. I still like Plan "B." - Cat! - Okay, okay. Plan "C." Look at you. Argh! Excuse me, sir. I'd like you to sign my petition. Yeah. Get out of my way, you hippie freak. Are you aware of the senseless, wholesale slaughter... of the flatulating, acid-spitting Zumzizeroo? What will it take to get you out of my face? Just sign my petition... with this large, oversized pen that requires two hands. I see. - Will you hold my dog? - Yes! Okay, I have a problem with the word "dog." I don't use the "D" word per se 'cause I think it's really, really wrong. Yeah. But I will happily hold your Canine-American. - I'm more comfortable with that really, yeah. @ How much is that Canine-American in the window @ Cat! Come on! - Hey, what the... Go, go, go! Come back here! I'm on to you kids! - Nothing to see here. Keep moving! Go! Come on! Let's go. Ah, get in, get in! Come on, let's go. Get in! Hi, hi. Get in! Get in! Look out below! Oh! Sorry. Over there. Hey! Hey, hey! Hey, hey! Ohh! Oh! I got you! Here he comes! Cat! - Where's my hat? Oh! Go! Go, go! Go! Let's go! My tail, my tail. Come on, Cat! I'm walking here! Joan. Joan! - I think we lost him. - Not the pocket. Not the pocket! - We got the lock back. Now let's get home. - Relax, kid. I'm all over it. Hey. What's wrong? This. This is not my hat. I must have picked up the wrong hat back there. - So? - So... without my hat, I'm just your garden-variety six-foot-tall talking cat. Joan, your children are running around town like complete maniacs. Yes, they are. With some weird, hairy man in a big hat. Uh-huh. You're gonna believe everything I'm telling you once we get to your house, okay? Come on. We're doomed! We're dead. This is all my fault. I'm such an idiot. Why do I always have to do the opposite of what I'm supposed to? Wait a second. That's it! The opposite! Hey, Things! Don't help us! Do not show up and help us get home right now! - We're goin' on a road trip! - Larry's car? How'd you get so smart? So the race was on to get back home first. Hang on! We gotta beat Mom and Quinn home! But back at their home, things were just getting worse. There's Mom and Larry! Step on it, Joan. Go, go, go, go, go. Oh, Things, do not do anything to slow down my mom. Slow down Mom! Look, Joan, they don't beat them every day. Oh, great. I'm sorry, Off

[awkotacosummoner]

Teach Me Chapter 1 (Leo x Reader)

Summary: (name) begins her lessons with Lord Leo.

Last Chapter: https://awkotacosummoner.tumblr.com/post/185911739812/teach-me-prologue-leo-x-reader

AO3 link :https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395199/chapters/46182484

(name) performed her duties with a small skip in her step.  Lord Leo was coming back from visiting Princess Corrin today and they were supposed to start her lessons.  She had also overheard that if Princess Corrin where to pass a test Lord Xander was to give her in a few weeks then she and her retainers where to come to Castle Krakenburg.  Which meant that her sisters would be coming to visit as well.

She made quick work of her chores, hoping to start her lessons as soon as Lord Leo was ready for her.  She went through her mental checklist when she neared the end of her duties.  

Sweep the halls? Check.

Wash the dishes? Check.

Dust the bookshelves? Check.

(name) went through a few other of her daily duties and had completed everything an hour earlier than she usually did.  She didn’t know if she could wait until Lord Leo sent someone to get her, she was just too excited.

While waiting, (name) had busied herself with helping the other servants of the castle with their duties.  While organizing things on a shelf, a servant approached (name).

“(name), Lord Leo has requested your presence in his quarters.” the older man said.

“Thank you, Wilhelm.” (name) smiled.  “I’ll head over there right now.”

“Be careful, (name).” whispered Wilhelm as she walked past him.  “I don’t like the idea of someone like you being alone with someone in power like Lord Leo.”

(name) just chuckled at her fellow servant’s warning.  Wilhelm had always been a bit over protective.  He was like a father to her, considering she was here since she was very young and never got the chance to get to know her real father.  He was always looking out for her, especially with the other male occupants of the castle.  

Nothing like that had ever really happened before at the castle, so she couldn’t quite see why Wilhelm was so paranoid.  But she had heard that he did have a young daughter back home so maybe it was just from him being an actual father that he treats a girl around the same age as his daughter like this.

“Don’t worry, Wilhelm.  I’ll be fine.” she smiled before walking off toward Lord Leo’s room.

Wilhelm was a fairly old man.  Probably only a few years younger then Sir Gunther.  Quite a few wrinkles marking his features, but (name) will admit he was fairly handsome.  She can only wonder how much of a looker he was back in the day.

He was also still pretty strong.  Apparently he had trained to be a knight, but suffered an injury and was no longer able to keep up with his fellow knights.

(name) had finally reached Lord Leo’s door and gave it a hard knock.

“Lord Leo, it’s (name).  You summoned for me?”

Prince Leo had opened the door, a gentle smile on his face.

“Yes I did, (name).  I came back from visiting my sister a few hours ago and recalled I had promised to tutor you in reading.”

“You’ve been back for a few hours already?  I’m sorry, sir.  If I’d known when you were arriving home I would have welcomed you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” the prince waved his hand dismissively.  “You were probably busy with your duties anyway.  Come, I have a spot for us at my desk.”

(name) had followed Leo over to his desk which now had two chairs in front of it, along with a stack of books.

“Thankfully, Elise still had her books from when she was learning to read so we’ll use them.” Leo said taking a seat while (name) took the other.  “They are a bit childish, but very useful for beginners.”

(name) began to feel slightly self-conscious at Lord Leo’s statement.  Here she was, at eighteen years old and reading books meant for small children because she never learned.  It’s not like she expected to jump straight into huge books with small text, but it was still a bit embarrassing to have to read children’s books when other people her age where reading complex stories.  Well, everyone has to start somewhere, right?  

“So to start out, I think we should focus on reading letters out loud.” he said as he pulled out a thin book.  He opened it up to reveal that pages had letters in large print with some smaller... words? Underneath.  

“Right here is a letter,” the prince had pointed to the letter in large text.  “and here is how you pronounce the letter.”

His finger moved down to what (name) thought where words.

“I want to first see what you know so I know what you do need to learn.  I want you to go through all the letters and to sound them out for me, okay?”

“Yes sir.” (name) replied.

----

It had taken (name) a while; probably a full hour, but she had finally made it through the alphabet twice.  Lord Leo had helped her with most of them.  She was beyond frustrated with herself.  Here she thought she was pretty smart for someone who had never gone to school, yet here she was proving herself wrong.

“You did really well.” the prince said, giving her a gentle smile.

“You really think so?” (name) asked.

“Yes, it took Elise about three hours for her to get past the first half of the alphabet.  Granted she kept on getting distracted but that’s beside the point.”  Lord Leo then turned to another page in the book that definitely had words on it this time.  “Now that you know how to pronounce letters individually, I want you to try and sound out some of these words.  You don’t need to worry if you don’t know what they mean, just try your best for now.”

“Right.”

----

This part was even harder then the last.  It must have taken (name) twice as long to read these then when she was reading letters individually.  She really got stuck with letters that made a new sound when put together.  Like ‘th’, ‘sh’, ‘wh’, and others like that.

She hung her head in shame, she felt like she wasting Lord Leo’s time with this.

“You did very well.” said Leo, surprising the maid.

“You’re just saying that, Milord.  That had to have taken me more than last time to read.”

“I mean it.  You are actually a fast learner from what I can tell.” the prince looked out his window to see that it was now night time.  “I think we should call it a day.  It’ll be dinner for me soon and I’m sure the others are wondering where you are.”

With that, he stood up and walked (name) to his door.

“Thank you again, Lord Leo.  You have no idea how much this means to me.” (name) smiled before bowing.

“It’s no trouble at all.  In fact, I do enjoy your company and I hope we can continue tomorrow at the same time.  Would that be alright?”

“Yes, of course.  I-I guess I’ll see you then, sir.” (name) smiled before making her way back to the servants quarters. (name) couldn’t help but blush at Lord Leo’s praise.  Maybe she was smarter than she thought...

#my writing #reader insert #fire emblem fates #Leo #Teach Me #Leo x Reader

[ciathyzareposts]

Missed Classic 67: Ballyhoo (1986) – Introduction

Written by Joe Pranevich

Infocom careened into 1986 on the backs of two contradictory pieces of information. Sales had been up in 1985 for an all-time high of $11.5 million, and yet the company was falling apart. The Cornerstone flop was a distant memory, but the winter layoffs that followed were not. Marc Blank, founder and co-developer of the Zork series, Deadline, and Enchanter was out. So was Al Vezza, the CEO. Mike Berlyn had left even before Fooblitzky had been released with the graphics team as one of the layoff casualties. Infocom was in active negotiations with Activision for a buyout, although how much of this was known during the development of Ballyhoo is unclear. What is clear is that the announcement of Activision’s intent to merge came out within days of Ballyhoo’s release. This would be the last game ever released by an independent Infocom.

Into this maelstrom entered Jeff O’Neill, a first time Implementor. Originally from California, he came to Infocom with a background in journalism and a smidge of computer science. He put those skills to use doing QA on Wishbringer, Hitchhiker’s Guide, and likely other games. He also subbed in as a writer for the The New Zork Times, the company newsletter. Unlike many of the other Imps, Jeff has kept his privacy post-Infocom and so we know less about him than other team members. We’ll see his touch here and in Nord and Bert (1987), plus he was one of the contributors to Bureaucracy (also 1987). I look forward to getting to know him through his games.

($11.18 in today’s dollars.) 

Prior to this marathon, I knew very little about Ballyhoo. Like many of the games in the first Lost Treasures set, I dipped a toe in twenty-five or more years ago, but I recall not “getting it” and ending a few turns in. My confusion may have been because Ballyhoo is listed as a “mystery” game, the successor to the Sergeant Duffy series of games (Deadline, The Witness, and Suspect) but without (as far as I know) continuing that series directly. I don’t recall even what the mystery was. The 1995 re-release recategorized the game as a “comedy”. Is it a comedy mystery? Or a mystery comedy? To make things even more confusing, it was initially developed as the third “junior” game (after Seastalker and Wishbringer), but that was abandoned before release. So how does this game play and feel? I’ll find out soon enough.

The manual opens with a souvenir program for “The Traveling Circus that Time Forgot”, an old-fashioned circus that my character has recently attended. We also have a balloon, a copy of our ticket, and an ad for an old cure-all in the box. I attended a Barnum and Bailey circus once as a kid in the 1980s. Even then they were old-fashioned; I remember pushing past protestors handing out anti-animal act fliers before we were in the door. That may have soured my opinion of the circus and I never went to another one. Thirty-odd years later, touring “three ring” circuses like that are gone, replaced in part by the upscale Cirque du Soleil and similar acts.

The program is mostly concerned with the story of Thomas Munrab (“Barnum” spelled backwards) and his players. He was a graduate of Harvard Business School, but invested in the circus even when everyone else thought it was stupid. The program says “backwards vision and superlative genius” but it is not difficult to read between the lines:

Sounds so simple yet it is hard to imagine the tremendous quantum of resistance and awesome challenge that would confront this would-be modern day P. T. Barnum. Immediately you would hear the voice of the naysayers. their prickly criticism intended to burst your balloon deriding such “pipe dreams” as low tech and low brow, logistically impossible, financially unfeasible. And imagine the embarrassment of getting laughed out of the Harvard Club!

As Infocom was a MIT shop, I expect there is more than a hint of cross-town Harvard/MIT rivalry in this description. Beyond their “stable genius”-level founder, the circus consists of:

Glorious Gloria, a trapeze artist

The Amazing Genatossio Brothers (Carlo, Giuseppe, Antonio, and Stefano), a hire-wire act

Gottfried Wilhelm van Katzenjammer, an animal tamer

Comrade Thumb, a 28-inch tall clown

Chuckles, Mystic Malcom, and other clowns

Rimshaw the Incomparable, a fortune-teller

Tina, the fat lady

Andrew Jenny, a “strange union of a man and a woman in one body”

I have no idea how much of this will matter, but I take notes anyway. As I look at this, I am particularly struck– and worried– by how Tina and “Andrew Jenny” will be portrayed in the game. Both are included as examples of “circus freaks”, but obesity isn’t quite as funny as it used to be. I am also worried about transgender stereotypes and the possibility that Andrew / Jenny will be depicted in poor taste. Then again, the program says that he/she is split right down the middle with an Andrew-half and a Jenny-half which is not the way any real kind of transgenderism works. I’m going to accept this as a period piece rather than worry too much immediately on the game as a commentary on non-binary genders or gender dysphoria.

Music to soothe the savage beast, eh?

The rest of the program includes a brief history of traveling circuses, connecting them to events going all the way back to Roman arenas. It also introduces circus slang which may come up in the game. Filling out the rest of the manual is a standard Infocom text including sample commands and recommendations for new players. The only new material there is that we will be solving a kidnapping plot. Sounds like fun!

Before I begin, I was already clued in to a major problem in my version of the game: the Lost Treasures set is missing a page (above) from the program which is required for copy protection. I found the page online, but it means I already have a good clue to one of the puzzles if the answer is there.

There doesn’t seem to be too much more to say about the game. Let’s play!

The circus came to town!

As the game begins, we are a disgruntled circus-goer that just finished watching a lackluster performance. And yet… we also have an “irrational desire to steal the spotlight, defy death, and bask in the thunder of applause”. Do we take over the circus when we win? Or is this just to suggest why we might help a circus to solve a mystery?

There’s not much to do except look around. I double-back into the Big Top as other spectators are just about all gone. It wasn’t a “three ring” circus, but rather a two-ringed one. A ring to the west that I cannot access is for animal acts, while this one is for the acrobats. The hire-wire is still set up with a safety net below. I can even climb up to try to cross it! This appears to be a puzzle as I have to cross slowly and “lean” to the north and south to keep my balance, but I quickly fall into the net below. I may have a reason to do this later. For now, I’m just impressed that none of the guards or ushers or clowns or anyone else didn’t stop some idiot (me!) from climbing up there and nearly getting himself killed.

I file out with the crowd and make it outside. In the main “connection” between the circus events and the Midway to the east, I find a small person wearing a general’s outfit. That must be Comrade Thumb, the world’s smallest man. Quick searching suggests that he is based on Francis Joseph Flynn, aka “General Mite”, a diminutive 19th century circus performer. He’s struggling to drink from a water fountain, but it’s too high for him. I help him up and he thanks with a salute before walking away. I cannot head east as I need to have a special ticket to access the Midway through a set of turnstiles, so I follow Thumb to the south instead.

Just to the south, Thumb is joined by Chuckles, another clown. They arrive at a second set of turnstiles. They say something to a guard and they are allowed to pass through. The guard does not let me through so I cannot follow them. I wander west instead and find myself in the prop tent where I hear voices approaching from outside. I do what any sensible person would do: hide. Munrab and a Detective arrive and speak to each other in whispers. The detective actually asks why they are whispering and Munrab breaks the fourth wall by reminding him that they are in a mystery. Munrab explains that his daughter Chelsea has been kidnapped, but he neither suspects anyone in the circus nor trusts the local police. He hands over a photo to the detective. After a brief exchange, they both leave the tent and I can come out of hiding. The game has begun for real! I don’t think the detective is supposed to be Duffy, both because he doesn’t seem to be competent and because he is a PI rather than police. I’ll see if we can get a better look later.

Our 27th President. He was the last President to appoint a non-lawyer to the Supreme Court. 

My first step is to map out the circus grounds as best as I can to look for clues. Rather than a blow-by-blow, this is what I found:

The prop tent contains a stand-up figure of President Taft and a gorilla suit. I grab them. 

West of the Big Top entrance is a discarded clown mask and a caged-in passage for animals. My gut says that we’ll have to traverse that at some point.

Off to the east is a white wagon, the circus’s main office. The door is locked, but there is a discarded fiberglass pole out front. I grab that too. 

There are signs throughout leading to the “egress”, a famous Barnum gag. An egress is, of course, an exit and not a female egret.

Returning to the main tent, I find that the grandstands have been moved and there is now a gap I can walk through to get under the seats. I discover a ticket in the refuse below. I’m not sure why I don’t have one already since I did just watch the performance. 

While in the Big Top, I try the tightrope walk again. Why? I have no idea. But this time, I drop everything except the fiberglass pole and start to climb. That’s when I notice: the safety net has been removed by the workers. I neglected to pay attention before, but quickly restoring shows that it was just removed by a “roustabout”, a laborer. Crossing it with the pole is easier than I expect and I do not have to use the “lean” command at all. At the top of the far-side platform, I find a child’s helium balloon. I grab that for another ten points.

Leaving the tent, I use my ticket to enter the Midway but it doesn’t work. I check out the ticket from the packaging and discover that I had to poke out one of the holes to specify whether I am male or female. Will that come up later? Does this game have a gendered sequence? I punch out the blue dot and put the ticket in the turnstile and this time it lets me through. Once on the Midway, I spot the detective getting drunk on the job. He’s been binging on that “cure-all” that the feelies advertise, an 18% alcohol concoction. I don’t think Duffy would do that!

My map at the end of this post. Not a ton of rooms.

That gives me access to a few more places:

A menagerie where an elephant blocks my way east, plus a locked cage to the west. I can also scoot around the elephant’s tent to find another locked cage. I can hear that the elephant is chained up and unhappy. 

“Jennifer’s Boudoir” which is Andrew Jenny’s trailer. Andrew and Jenny are there, two halves of one person. They must have an interesting tailor! There is a spiral staircase leading upstairs but they will not let me through. 

Rimshaw’s tent is north. He looms and looks mysterious at us. 

The Fat Lady is at the eastern end. I grab a stool from her room. I should say “rooms” since she spans two of them. It’s funny, right? She’s also listening to the radio.

With that, I have explored everywhere I can explore. I need to start solving puzzles to proceed. My ticket says that it comes with three free sessions with Rimshaw. I will try there next.

All in all, this is a fun little game but I’m not sure that I “get” it yet. It’s not a time-boxed mystery like the three previous games, but I am not sure exactly what it is. There is the passage of time, but I expect that it is tied to my score. I hope that is the only similarity this game has with Cruise to a Corpse! (My god, I hated that game.) I can’t help but think that a game about the end of magic (Spellbreaker) followed by a game about the sad decline of an art form (Ballyhoo), all while Infocom was preparing for their own end… isn’t a coincidence. Let’s see how this plays out.

Time played: 1 hr 10 min Inventory: stool, clown mask, pole, ticket, gorilla suit, balloon, President Taft, $12.81 Score: 20 of 200 (10%)

Since this is an Introduction post, it’s time to guess the score! The current average score for an Infocom game is 39 points. Since we have never seen O’Neill work before, there’s not much guidance that I can give. Good luck!

Note Regarding Spoilers and Companion Assist Points: There’s a set of rules regarding spoilers and companion assist points. Please read it here before making any comments that could be considered a spoiler in any way. The short of it is that no CAPs will be given for hints or spoilers given in advance of me requiring one. As this is an introduction post, it’s an opportunity for readers to bet 10 CAPs (only if they already have them) that I won’t be able to solve a puzzle without putting in an official Request for Assistance: remember to use ROT13 for betting. If you get it right, you will be rewarded with 50 CAPs in return. It’s also your chance to predict what the final rating will be for the game. Voters can predict whatever score they want, regardless of whether someone else has already chosen it. All correct (or nearest) votes will go into a draw.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-67-ballyhoo-1986-introduction/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

[theuniverseisher]

Hostage Negotiation

In which Tumblr absolutely dunks on the Discord formatting, starring:

@sunlight-magnificence @fouramour @sixpinsdie @itsjacktheknife @lassofthelaw @cautionarylaw @fastestshadeofgreen @undertakinggraveshift @dilldaydreamer @aceoflaw

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:04 PM

08: @Law

https://theuniverseisher.tumblr.com/post/178198725232/pvt-law

08: ;) ((for those who can't get on tumblr just now))

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:08 PM

WK: ....Release her. NOW!

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:09 PM

She already had her relea--))

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:09 PM

((ADSFGH))

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:09 PM

((don t do  th i s

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:10 PM

08: ;) You know my demands.

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:14 PM

WK: You want me to beg, you FILTHY URCHIN?! Please, come here so I can hear your carapace CRACK under my foot.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:15 PM

08: Would somebody please inform His Royal Marshmellow why, precisely, that's ill-advised?

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:17 PM

WK: No, you won't die. I shall just remove every joint from it's socket until you're a shell with a still-beating heart. You will not GET to die.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:18 PM

08: Still not a good idea, cupcake!

Resh (NB)Today at 10:19 PM

NB: Sir! Wait! Wait, she’s, well apparently she’s got the universe inside her! If you kill her, or damage her, maybe, reality itself may break. If the universe dies, we, goddamnit, we all die.

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:22 PM

WK: You're with the Felt then? I will end each and every one of them unless you return here with my wife, NOW.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:23 PM

08: Yawn! 08: Really, you're cute.  Thinking that bothers me. 08: Is that all you've got?  You must really not care about your wife. 08: My husband would have bent over backwards to get me back. ;)

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:25 PM

WK: How DARE you imply that I do not care. WK: Is that what you want? Wherever you are, bring me there.

Resh (NB)Today at 10:26 PM

NB: Sir!? What the hell are you thinking we need to plan this!

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:26 PM

08: No. 08: I want you to beg. 08: Before all your people.  I want them to see you on your knees. 08: Show me how much you want her back, Wilhelm.

ave (PS/Sol)Today at 10:28 PM

PS: Snowman.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:29 PM

08: :)

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:31 PM

06: Hey 06: I'm innocent. 06: Why are we threatening my life, I'm not involved in this. You should consider anger therapy. 06: Your wife gets kidnapped one time and suddenly it's an everyone problem.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:31 PM

SS: oh there you are SS: left me on read you bitch SS: ....but this is pretty great not gonna lie

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:32 PM

08: 💋

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:33 PM

WK: >You kneel where you stand, in the middle of the street in the city. Where everyone can feel your unbridled rage around you at the epicenter. You don't know how or if she could possibly see you, but you're kneeling now WK: PLEASE.(edited)

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:34 PM

06: Haha.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:34 PM

SS: wow

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:34 PM

08: Someone get there and Skype me.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:34 PM

04: on it.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:34 PM

06: Bitch we use discord now get with the times ))

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:34 PM

(( IT IS, IN HINDSIGHT, A HILARIOUS TIME JOKE TBH

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:34 PM

SS: cant wait to see this shit in the papers

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:35 PM

((LMFAO))

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:35 PM

04: is it just gonna be really obvious where he is, or should i close my eyes and assume i'll end up there.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:35 PM

((pesterchum or bust))

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:35 PM

uninstall AOL messenger u cuck))

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:36 PM

08: Probably obvious! A little limited at the moment myself. FINE AIM ME YOU FUCKS))

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:37 PM

01: yo 01: snow 01: ill pay you for pics

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:38 PM

> Clover manages to find the king in record time, as he do. > There's now a livestream in-chat.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:39 PM

SS: ha!

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:39 PM

08: 3 favors for a set of 5.  5 for 10. 08: Ohh, this is good. 08: Now, see? That wasn't so hard.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:40 PM

01: mmmmm 01: yo WK how much you think snuff of your wife is worth just wondering

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:41 PM

08: I also have a cashapp.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:41 PM

SS: id pay for it

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:41 PM

WK: Don't! Please.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:44 PM

08: Now, see, this is fun! 08: On the one hand, there's the good, sweet husband and law enforcement, who surely wouldn't want queenly blood on their hands--given how Beloved she is to the ruling planet--no matter whether they personally care for her or not. 08: On the other, snuff of a Queen is once in a lifetime. 08: Race to see who has the better offer.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:44 PM

01: definitely rather pay cash i dont trust your uh 01: creativity 01: on favors and shit

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:45 PM

SS: really snow? youre thinkin of leaving her alive?

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:45 PM

08: I'm all ears! Auction starts now. 08: 💋

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:46 PM

WK: Anything you want. Anything. WK: I will do whatever you ask.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:46 PM

08: Anything is dangerous, sweet Marshmallow. 08: Are you absolutely certain of that?

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:47 PM

WK: If you return her, yes.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:47 PM

04: ooooh.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:47 PM

SS: didnt she take everything from you SS: what fun is it to let her go now that youve got her SS: you should do to her what she wasnt able to do to you SS: cull that bitch SS: and her husband too

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:48 PM

WK: I swear on my life that I will do whatever you ask so long as you return her. Please.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:48 PM

AR: you should also refrain from bribery. and threats. and kidnapping. AR: on a public forum.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:48 PM

08: Oh, darling, sweet Regulator. 08: Eat me. 08: Now then!

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:48 PM

SS: haha

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:49 PM

cop dad banging pots and pans SCATTER))

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:49 PM

SS: he said you could return her so SS: just return her body SS: everyone wins

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:50 PM

WK: ALIVE.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:50 PM

SS: aw see now youre asking for a lot

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:51 PM

(( doin this for quick not-worth-a-dm-channel exchanges )) [04->08: i dunno, 'on death's edge' is still alive. :P]

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:51 PM

[08->04: ;)] [08->01: You'll get your photos.  $Sn0wbitch send the cash.]

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:53 PM

Death: Perhaps not my place, being human, but... there has already been one war between Derse and Prospit. Wouldn't murdering her constitute a second war, and are we all willing to cause a second war over this? I feel you have already... pushed good reason for such.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:53 PM

[01->08: god bless you ya crazy c*nt.]  [-Transfers 4k, because this is an investment mon dude.-]

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:54 PM

WK: Do you accept my offer?

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:54 PM

SS: freedom doesnt come cheap SS: kill the tyrants

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:55 PM

[04->08: you deserve more than just 'please', in my opinion!]

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:55 PM

[AR may or may not have just....closed the chat. T-minus 45 minutes for guilt and doing the right thing but I'm going to have a GRAND forty five minutes thank YOU.]

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:55 PM

[45 minutes is a long time to allow murder]

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:57 PM

[08->01: I'll send them once we're done here.] 08: Here's what I'm thinking, Wilhelm. 08: Immunity for this little debacle.  No arrests, no charges--I walk out of this scot-free, as do my fine band of merry gentleman.  No legal retaliation. 08: And I will have my ring back. 08: How's that sounding so far?

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:57 PM

WK: Done.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:57 PM

[AR awknowleges the narrator's point with a steven universe struggling not to crack gif. Time is adjusted accordingly.]

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:58 PM

08: Ho. 08: Also this story is going to the press as we've written it, and none of your heroic-twist style narratives. 08: For that little extra salt in the wound.

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:59 PM

WK: I don't care. Return her immidiately, or bring me there.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:02 PM

08: No, I won't be bringing you here. 08: And I will return her, when I am good and ready. 08: The drop off with be in front of the Regalia Hotel, two hours from now. 08: There will be no police presence. 08: Only you, and Mister Four of my outfit. 08: Any breech of this contract, and I'll slit her throat before you even get a shot off. 08: Are we perfectly clear on that?

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:03 PM

04: 🕓🕗✌💋

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 11:03 PM

WK: Yes. WK: Is everyone clear? Do. Not. Follow. Me.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 11:05 PM

06: That was easy.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:05 PM

04: requesting permission to end stream, boss?

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:05 PM

08: Permission granted. 08: Be sure to save that.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:06 PM

04: wouldn't dream of otherwise.-- The video stream cuts off. --

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:07 PM

08: A pleasure doing business with you, as always, Wilhelm!

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:07 PM

04: ✨

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 11:07 PM

WK:....

Mabs (PI/02)Today at 11:07 PM

PI: -Pembrooke Ingleton has signed off-

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:07 PM

08: Oh! Yes, Clover,you're quite righht. 08: ✨

#ic #rp thread #Hostage Negotiation

[paraclete0407]

When I was at Governor’s School after the ‘Oh! Are you a Retardican?’ thing and getting volleyball-smashed in my finger for implying something about male-female differences (I did not say ‘traditional’ since I am pro-renovation / Pope Saint John Paul II) - started practicing the piano again, ‘Claire de Lune’ and two of Chopin’s waltzes. I didn’t know any ‘sweet’ music for girls.  As a kid I liked ‘Swans on the Lake.’  One of my other favorites is Liszt’s transcription of the ‘Shepherd’s Song’ or last movement of Beethoven’s fourth symphony.  Weavings and ‘declamations(?’).  But to some the weavings are flower-garlands or vine-stems or sth and to some they are chains; I wonder how Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli would interpret the weavings given his ‘bulletization’ of Chopin elsewhere how his fioritura are like a figure-skater using gravity-boots and wires from the ceiling. 

Watched a bit of the Int. Chop. Comp just now and realized - IMO - they’re just using the wrong pianos and have for a long time.  Chopin started out IIRC with sth called a fortepiano and throughout his life preferred uprights to grands; his favorite brand was Pleyel, perhaps ‘rosewood.’  Some of these heavier grands not only obviate the possibility of the miraculous or intuitive or non-personal(?) in the fioritura (chains of gracenotes), but can cause lasting nerve-damage and even dystonia(?)(a kind of paralysis).  NYT of course loves to use STEM and call everything ‘small muscle athletes.’  To achieve certain ‘pellucid(?),’ singing effect the triceps sth sth I think.  To me perhaps the most totally realized pianist of 20C was Uchida Mitsuko but honesty I don’t have the money to know or the time to listen to hundreds of records.  I just felt as though she never threw a note away - she had no ‘personality cult’ as a pianist.  The other I admire from an ethical standpoint Wilhelm Kempff.  Kempff could’ve been a ‘gr8′ Headmaster.  

Milstein, Furtwaengler.  Heifetz as obviously gifted but IDK if I ever felt ‘wow’ or ‘oh’ listening to him.  Milstein’s ‘Chaconne’ starts to rip the chains and weavings both apart; like Bach is attacking his math or rebelling against God.  

I never studied conducting but surely one of the problem has to be giving the violins a ‘true voice’ which Furtwaengler is able to do in ‘Shepherd’s Song’ along with the flutes.  Orchestras need many violins and only a few trumpets ad trombones and on, but even with many the violin section can lack a ‘will to live(?),’ ‘identity,’ ‘face?’  There is a ‘bright’ at the end of his ‘Shepherd’s Song’ - literal ecstasy which IDK how he was able to inspire either the violinists or to get the other sections to back off.  In America there are all these jokes and during choir break they’re playing Mario-songs on the piano.

If you lose everything that was special about you at the end of your life were you ever truly doing what you enacted or acted out?  What was my most specific trait?  Was it ultimately snobbery?  

Lately I want to punch through doors and stuff.  Maybe I ought to go back to the night at the department store with person and person; downtown Milwaukee used to have a ‘certain shade of blue’ to their Christmas-lights in 2008 but today the whole city that I can tell drank warm Burger King milk before singing ‘Deck the Halls’ and it shows.  Like everyone I love ‘The Carol’ and sometimes tell myself 3-gen’s ‘Hail Mary(?)’ moment was ‘Wish Tree.’

At the hagwon I was known for leaving the side-office at the right moment ater telling a joke but it’s really easy to be like that and in the land of lemmings and Ewoks that’s all some people want like 55-year-old male nurse when I criticize him for railroading me - not giving me 1 minute to make a life-crucial decision -he comes at me with my own ‘executive style’ like, ‘How you like me now oppa?’  Like DROP FUCKING DEAD.  I try to make them crisp and considerate but they don’t get that procedure and style have human consequences - that they belong to an organization that impacts lives.  Just banging on their drum... no ‘chain of care,’ no ‘ownership.’  Lt’s just Thatcherize all of Wisconsin!  They actually kill people this way and Biden says social media is killing people.  I wasn’t asking you for peanuts or a glass of OJ I am asking to be allowed to consider my own body, psyche, soul.

And it’s like all of America or the world, Jiang Zemin.  TS 1989 they ask for democracy and not only can CCP not say ‘no’ but they have no process or plan; I don’t even know.  It’s like your pussy bitch father finally tried to an up - a bit like ‘Anna Karenina’ where the husband starts quoting the Bible but who knows what is in his heart or whether he has any [nunchi?]; whether say he LIKES Christianity or would feel sad or disappointed if he lost it? 

CCP ccream at each other in a closed session for days.  I just tell myself again, ‘Oh XJP can’t quite control his own country and Mao was a blunt-force instrument and the remains of his heyday are being mitigated even still’ but in America and Europe they’ve never seen full-blown Maoism even in the times of Hitler and Stalin, that I know of.  Maybe in China after TS1989 they still let the pro-youth cadre live for decades under house-arrest, Zhao Ziyang, and maybe ‘e-flowers’ on the occasion of his passing for ‘a vanished world of love’ - ‘I am thinking of my old friend, ‘zi(?).’  I was fond of Tu Fu’s ‘Thinking of Li Bai Beyond the Sky,’ ‘Demons exult in human failure’ - but I mean literal demons not fairy-tale characters from Amy Tan stories that Chinese use to seem loveable.  And that too there again feeds in to ‘Op. White Summer’ / nuke Milwaukee / uke America.  

David  has a sense of evil like when driving to DC with TW-1 we got lost in Fredericksburg at night - never again.  Outside Madison 08.  Maybe bairen didn’t manage the environment here well, there is no real wilderness, everything is ’revolving in crystal’ or ‘the glass man, without external reference.’

I would look around for n/Nature more but the pervasive disbelief-engine or anti-belief-engine or whatever is happening t me with debates over the past has made it hard to drive and I lose energy quickly except with typing.  I miss my gifted student whom I tried to push to write her sci-fi novel about caste societies enabled by biotechnology but she was already pulling a Catherine Chung(?) talking about children and the coming generation instead of accomplishing the proximate mission or purpose or objective.  My uncle is /was really devout and resembles Saint Paul in my mind’s eye, kept his muscles in to his 90′s, and yet the transmission of his best values encountered massive interference - kids divorced, Spice Girls(?!), cultural Christianity / Christian nationalism(?), CS Lewis and Martin Luther saying it’s cool to tell sick jokes and fart, the jocular contempt of the Gingrich-era GOP for the poor and perhaps women.  And how most of my family’s money seemed to come from the arms-industry like the Sidewinder missile and eve after walking away from the mil-ind complex the mentality of massive retaliation or lethal and punitive solutions to all problems - but that is a a big intuitive leap and maybe self-serving.

One of the ‘split’ moments in my life was being offered a job at Catholic University of Daegu ad I requested 3 days to decide but was woken up in the morning at UncleHammer’s house told to leave immediately and forgot to reply b/c I had like 1hr sleep.  Just shouldn’t’ve been there.

This again why I say if I don’t die from coronavirus and ever work a good job again I should just talk out any problem all night or bear any burden; 10 billion people all wanna good job and ever 36-y/o male has stories and observations.  

‘Heaven and Earth.’  People tried so hard to make this world a little better, some theory of r/Revolution as bringing Heaven down to Earth and maybe now Man will go  out to the stars as well.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (33)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Aaaah...(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). What mess are you in? You don't realize how much your life is going to change. Certainly, your career, your business, flourishes day by day, to the point that you are solicited for great events. Well, I recognize that for the moment, you have just been asked for cakes for the local festival. But imagine the success you could have! the whole area could hear from you. But... It may not be for that reason.  

Your life could change... because of this "deal" that you have made with Ghostface. I have to admit that, if I had been given the same proposal, I would have finally accepted it. But not as quickly as you did. The curiosity and eagerness you felt to know the true identity of the Roseville Assassin... could destroy you forever. How... it’s still a mystery. But back to our business, will you?

The whole city was aware of your participation in the festival. The information spread very quickly, and in a city like Roseville, it's not very surprising. Everyone is wondering about, this famous cake that you are going to prepare for this special occasion. And it's a good opportunity to get ideas. Even if you already know what you are going to do, having or rather hearing people come up with ideas, can give you new inspirations. Amy and Corey also stay on the lookout for any ideas that might be interesting to explore. As you were preparing the next batches of cakes, the phone rang. Amy being too busy taking the orders, it’s you who take the call.

“Welcome to the Nebula, where our pastries came from Outerspace! How can I help you?”

“(Y/N) sweety!!! How good it feels to hear you after all this time!” said a woman cheerfully.

“Aunt Marnie! How did you get the number of... Oh that's right. Mr Parkson had to tell you about my business and had to give you the number. it's so nice to hear you after... You know what. How is Uncle Joey? And Daisy and Tobias?” you respond with a smile.  

“Daisy has managed to get a scholarship for her studies in geology, she will be able to start this year. Tobias still plays on Gary's American football team. The city has not changed. some people come to settle there while others go elsewhere. As for Joey... Let's say he hangs on as he can. You know how much he cared about your mother; She was his little sister... he feels guilty for not being there to protect her.”

“Me too you know. I'm sorry if I left the area but... I needed to change the landscape. To start from scratch.”

“Oh, don't worry you Butterfly, we all understand that you needed to do that. You are much stronger than us, never forget that. So, tell me! How does it go in Roseville? is your business going well?” She replied.  

“Everything is fine! I was offered to make cakes for the local festival and Jed and I will move in together!” you answer.  

“Jed? Who’s Jed?”

You suddenly realize that you have made a slight blunder. When you separate with Alex, your aunt Marnie protects you like a mother hen. And this is even more the case since the death of your parents. No boys could approach you without her being around to watch for any suspicious movement on their part.

“Jed is...is my boyfriend. He works for the Roseville’s Gazette. It's recent, but don't worry about it, aunt Marnie, he's very nice! this boy is... he’s an angel. He’s the complete opposite of Alex.” you explain, worrying about her reaction.

“... Well, if you're sure what you're doing... And from what you say, I want to believe you. A journalist you say? Well, he had to live things from it! You will have to present him to us one day. And if possible before you are married.”

“Don't worry about it, we're not there yet. As I told you, it's recent but... he’s someone of trust. Believe me. Listen aunt Marnie, I have to go back to work, I'm going to give you my number like that if you want to call, you can call me directly on my phone! you always have the same, don't you?”

“Yes of course! I'm not going to bother you for very long either, I have a few groceries to do on my side. I hope we can see each other soon, and with your boyfriend! I love you very much (Y/N). See you later.”

“See you later Auntie. I love you too.”

You hang up before you get back to work. It felt good to have talked to your family again since the death of your parents. Poor Uncle Joey. He is your mother's closest brother. They both adored themselves. And yet, they couldn't help but argue about something. by force you were used to it and you wondered each time how long they would resist before arguing. And especially on what. And every time it ended in the same way: in the water of the pool, laughing like two idiots. They couldn't even remember why they were arguing.  

When your parents died, Joey didn't say a word. For several weeks, he had locked himself in the guest room, without eating or even talking. It was you who managed to get him out of his silence. You sigh as you think back to all this. From the whole family... he’s the one who has suffered the most. And he still suffers today. Luckily, he has a wife and two children who love him and help him. Otherwise, who knows how he would have turned out. Bad, very bad if you want my opinion.

You return to work when Melina enters the café with Mattew and Jed. The three greeted you from afar and went to sit down at a table that Corey had just cleaned. The latter took their order, which did not change the habit. You won't even need to ask them what they want by force. But Jed looked... annoy. You were wondering why.

“This guy is really twisted anyway. Hiring a guy to kill his own partner, it really goes too far. McKellan was an asshole, but Hoggins is twice as much.” said Melina, crossing her arm on her chest.  

“What amazes me is that the guy Wilhelm interrogated is not responsible for this murder. Are you sure that he didn't lie?” asks Mattew.

“Wilhelm passed him twice to the lie detector, left him alone for several minutes to see if he was going to say something and the results showed it well: he did not lie and he said nothing. Wilhelm said he knew Devon well, we can ask him anything and everything, but killing someone is not in his ropes and in his principles. At least he doesn't kill when the person has done nothing to him.” said Jed.  

“What do you think in this case?” you ask suddenly, making all three of them react.

“... Either Hoggins hired someone else... or he was the one who killed. But in this case, you have to prove that he went at McKellan’s home. But Wilhelm has interrogated the guards. They did not see, neither Hoggins, nor his car in the vicinity. So there remains only the first option, remains to know who he hired.” responds Jed.

“It doesn't seem to be going. Do you have a problem?”

“Let's say in short, that if I had this asshole in front of me, I would beat him to death.”

“Hoggins said things about you two that...  didn't really please Jed.” explain Mattew.  

“I think I know what he said. But you don't have to care, I won't leave you for anything in the world.” you said, kissing Jed on the cheek which made him smile.  

You suddenly remember the conversation with your aunt and take the opportunity to tell Jed about it. If at first, he was a little reluctant, worried and uncomfortable about the situation, he was rather reassured to know that your aunt was delighted to know that you are in a relationship with someone. Luckily for you, she doesn't know anything else... and so is Jed. Better to avoid talking about Ghostface.

*You have all the cards in hand, and two lives. Let's see if you get to the end of the game. *

Two lives...No, more. It’s not your life and Jed's that is in your hands, but also that of all the people who are close to you, Melina, Mattew, Corey, Amy... and even your family. So many lives in your hands, which may or may not be a victim of your choices. It's way too much for your shoulders, but you have no choice, you can't go back now. All you can do is say nothing to Jed. Even if it bites your lips, that your heart tightens at the thought of having to lie to him, you must hold. For the good of all of them.

The day went smoothly, although for once, a few annoying customers gave you a hard time. It takes everything in this low world, otherwise everything would be wonderful. Corey and Amy helped you clean everything up before returning home completely exhausted. Jed was waiting for you outside leaning against his van. You close the café after checking that everything was locked and then join him.

“Still worried about my aunt? I told you, you don't have to worry, they will adore you, I'm sure.” you said when you see his face.  

“No, it's not related to that... It's... it’s in relation to Hoggins. How can such a guy appropriate someone like common merchandise? When I heard him say that you were a bird of paradise and that it was a shame that you were with a guy like me... I refrained from sticking my fist in his face. It's easy for him to have a woman by his side, he has the money and the luxury.” He responds, clenching his fist.

“Hey! Don't say that. I could have hanged out with him, not worrying about finances and having everything I want. And I chose you. So, he can do whatever he wants, offer me all his fortune if he likes it, I would say no. He is repugnant, narcissistic, old, a real head to slap. It’s out of the question for me to go out with such a moron.”

“Hahaha that’s why I love you honey. Ready to go?” Jed replied, holding you close.  

As you were about to leave, a group of men surrounded Jed's van. And obviously they weren't there to talk. Jed gently pushed you behind him, blocking you between him and the van.

“Get in the car. Right now. And lock yourself in.” He said seriously.  

“But Jed...” You start.  

“I said RIGHT NOW.”

You get into the vehicle and lock it as Jed asked you. The men came a little closer, revealing iron bars. Some of them made them spin while sneering, others hit the ground with them. Jed didn't seem panicked, he didn't tremble. He gently removed his glasses, tapped against the glass so that you would take the glasses with you and then turned to the group of individuals.

“I suppose... that you were hired, were you not? It's Hoggins I bet.” He said calmly.

“We have nothing against you, man, but the boss... he can no longer stand you. On the other hand, he paid us to bring the girl back to him too.” said one of the men.

“Just try to see.”

It was then that the fight began. Despite the fact that there were several of them, Jed managed with disconcerting agility to dodge punches and iron bar blows. He even managed to put some men on the ground, before unfortunately being blocked and punched before being thrown to the ground. You knock against the window of the truck screaming his name, actually starting to worry when you see him spitting out a light trickle of blood. Suddenly, as if caught in a sudden rage, you see Jed throwing himself at the man in front of him, hammering him with fists.  

He took the iron rod to knock one of the men who was trying to attack him and then returned to the one on the ground. Despite the windows you could hear the man on the ground begging Jed to stop. But he kept on. As if he was taken with an uncontrollable rage. A monster. Jed again took the iron rod and raised it to hit the man on the ground, when suddenly he stopped and turned his head towards you, realizing that you were still there. Then police sirens were heard.

“Hands up! not a gesture you are surrounded!” shout an officer.  

“Olsen! put this iron bar down! Right now!” said inspector Wilhelm.  

Jed dropped the iron rod before collapsing next to the man he had just beaten. You unlock the vehicle and get off it to go see Jed shouting his name. The officers handcuffed the men one by one, while another called doctors to take care of Jed. It took them only a few minutes to arrive and take care of Jed. This one grimaced when the doctor applied the disinfectant.

“Are you okay, Olsen? nothing serious?” asks Wilhelm.

“I'm fine, nothing too serious except spitting a trickle of blood. These guys told me that Hoggins had hired them. They did not say it directly, but they made it clear to me.” responds Jed.

“We're going to take them to the station for that. Both of you go home. Miss, I count on you to take care of him.”

“You can count on that Inspector. Thank you.” You said, turning to Jed. “Does it hurt?”  

“A little, but don't worry, I've experienced worse. And then you're fine that's the main thing. I guess I will have to give a deposition tomorrow at the first hour?” He responds.

“Yes, unfortunately for me, it’s I who will have to take your deposition. It looks like the roles have been reversed between you this time. See you tomorrow Olsen. Miss.” said Wilhelm before leaving.

You and Jed go back to the apartment. There is no question of leaving him alone tonight. He will sleep at home. You both go to bed, Jed hugging you. He wished you good night, told you that He loves you and that he will not let anyone harm you. And you take his word for it. The Jed you saw tonight, scared you. He has protected you and protected himself in a sense. But from there to almost kill a man...  

Now you understand better why you should never piss him off. And it scares you.

***

(I’ve to finish RE8 Village but I don’t want to kill Heisenberg! He’s my favorite Lord!  I must admit I’m a little disappointed about the fact that we can’t choose to help Heisenberg or not. While we could choose between saving Mia or Zoe in RE7. Even if in the end both survive (Thanks the DLC: the End of Zoe). This could have led to an alternative path! But I'm quite curious to see the DLC that CAPCOM is developing for RE8! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

[unfurledwings]

And now, after nine thousand years, I’ve finally finished that piece with Wilhelm and I that I said I was going to put up. I know I’ve been really quiet here (I’ll try to be more active here soon!), but I still hope you all enjoy this. Read it under the cut!

Title: The Dinner Party

Fandom’s Involved: Xenosaga

Rating: G? Maybe T, just to be safe, though there isn’t anything explicit or violent going on here.

Pairing(s): Wilhelm/Me

Summary: Never, ever think that Wilhelm won’t annoy you if you know the truth about him and go to one of his company dinners.

               If you’d known who was going to be sitting next to you, you would have thought twice about accepting Shion’s offer to a big, formal Vector dinner.

               “Allen says that events like this make him sick to his stomach, so we have an extra spot for you, if you want to join us. Even my bosses say it’s okay, so I’m sure you won’t get in trouble.” You thought about whether or not you should go for a moment, since it was a big event at Vector, of all places, but you didn’t think that Wilhelm would be around, so you happily agreed to come, a big smile on your face.

               Unfortunately, not only did Wilhelm make a rare, semi-public appearance at the dinner, someone-probably him, even if only indirectly-had decided to seat you right next to him, far away from Shion, and among a group of strangers. You’re a little awkward among new people, but you handle the conversation just fine, even if you do feel bad about the fact that you’re quiet and don’t have anything interesting to talk about (being a cook onboard the Elsa, while interesting and a decent way to pay the bills, doesn’t give you much to talk about, especially in a setting where you can’t talk about anything illegal or grim.). It’s the man sitting to the left of you that’s the problem.

               Even though he looks rather calm and genial, you’re sure he’s feeling smug and amused about this whole situation right now, which just pisses you off even more. It’s not like you haven’t known chaos for a long time now. It’s not like the two of you are in a relationship of some sort, the kind where you would follow him to the ends of the universe and back if you had to. It’s not like he quietly told you about what he could remember of his past one quiet evening that felt like it was dipped in melancholy, when you two were alone in the kitchen, long after everyone else had gone to bed, drinking tea and pouring out your complicated, wounded hearts to one another. It’s not like he told you about the person who now calls himself Wilhelm, of what he once was to chaos, Mary, and their friends, and how he turned his back on them, manipulated them, and killed the people they considered their dearest friends.

               “I understand why he did it,” chaos had said, his quiet voice two steps away from being a groan, still flecked with blood, and the solemn, haunted expression on his face looked like it belonged in an abandoned church in the dim lighting, “but understanding doesn’t always erase the pain. He killed everyone, and I was the sole reason why.” As you held chaos and gave him whatever comfort you could, your heart ached and bled out with his, even as a burning, screaming, poisonous hatred for this man was born in it, and that hatred never died away, even as the days passed and you began to wonder whether or not Wilhelm was actually hoping for humanity to defeat him and break the cycle, whether or not he was choosing to be the villain so that everyone could move on someday. On the contrary, that idea simply stoked the fire in your heart, threw your head into a burning daze, and made you feel like punching him the moment you met him.

               If Wilhelm actually wanted the Recurrence to continue endlessly, no matter the cost, if he was truly the cold-hearted man he pretended to be, it would have been easier to wrap your head around him. You still wouldn’t have liked him, but you could have felt like you had a handle on him somewhat. This new theory introduced the idea that Wilhelm wasn’t cold at all (at least, not completely), that he wished for humanity to rise above his solution, even if he saw no other way to do that than to be the villain in this story. Hell, the theory didn’t rule out the possibility that he enjoyed his self-made role somewhat or the fact that he was the one mostly penning the events in this story, for better and for worse, which wouldn’t surprise you, given what chaos had told you about him. It makes you think that there are layers of maddening pretension surrounding his true core (and even that might be more than a bit pretentious), and that frustrates you to no end, since you want to wrap your head around this man. You want to understand him, like some Lovecraftian protagonist who tries to understand the horrors around him and is doomed to madness for his efforts, but instead of insanity, all you get is speculation-some of it plausible and some of it not-and a pounding, aggravated head for your troubles.

               So, sitting next to Wilhelm at this formal, polite dinner, knowing what you know about him and having to pretend you don’t loathe his guts is hard enough, but trying to analyze his motives for seating you next to him annoys you even more. Did he simply do it to get under your skin, or is he trying to mess with chaos, who knows all about your plans for this evening? Or both? Some lovestruck people might say that he did it because he likes you and wants you around whenever possible, despite the story, the play he’s trying to construct, but you’re ninety-five percent certain that that’s not the case. You can’t think of any reason why Wilhelm would be in love with you, and from what you understand, he’s too much of a sadist to derive pleasure from that sweet of a motive.

               Despite your growing irritation and desire to punch Wilhelm’s face, you make it through your beginning salad course and move onto your main one: a plate of baked, breaded catfish, fried squash, and a hefty slice of cornbread. It is here that Wilhelm finally makes his move.

               He orders a plate full of sticky ribs and coleslaw, a choice which everyone-including you-thinks odd for him, though only one woman sitting across from him actually comments on it.

               “I know they may not fit with my professional image,” he replies with a chuckle and a grin that further frustrates you, since you can’t tell whether it’s genuine or not, “but it’s been a long time since I’ve had them, and I felt in the mood for them. Sometimes, all you want is a simple, good meal.” As the people around you heartily agree with this and use it to pave the way for a new conversation, you quietly dig into your dinner as you listen and observe, unsure of whether Wilhelm is being completely honest with his explanation, though you can’t think of much-or anything-he’d have to gain from lying about his meal choices.

               About fifteen minutes into the main course, Wilhelm puts down one of the ribs he’s just finished eating and politely sucks on the middle of each of his fingers before moving his hands down to his lap like he’s going to wipe them on his napkin. Except he doesn’t. He times his actions perfectly so that it matches up with the moment you move your hands to the napkin in your lap so that you could wipe off the residue from your cornbread, and instead of wiping his hands, he presses his fingertips against yours, under the table where no one can see.

                The indirect-and passionate, given that he sucked on his fingers-kiss takes you completely by surprise, and you quickly jerk your head towards him, unable to stop yourself from glaring at him, and while you try to pull your hand away, he quickly takes ahold of it, giving it a little squeeze as he gives you an amused, warm look packed full of possible meanings. Is he amused because he knows he’s bothering you and likes it? Or because he’s messing with someone that he knows chaos cares for? Or…would a romantic heart actually be right here? Or is it some combination of these answers? You’re not completely sure, but the possibilities make you feel dazed and dizzy, like you’ve had too much to drink, and whether you realize it or not, the glare on your face melts away into something more confused and puzzled. You just hope you’re not blushing without realizing it, since you wouldn’t want to give Wilhelm, of all people, the satisfaction of seeing that. You realize that this little stunt puzzles you more than it annoys you. While you’re not certain whether Wilhelm knew you’d react like that (he probably did), you have no idea how to feel about the implications of your feelings. Thankfully, the guy sitting across from you notices the looks on yours and Wilhelm’s faces and speaks up, a sly grin on his face.

                “What’s up with you two? You look like Mr. Wilhelm just proposed to you.” The moment he speaks, Wilhelm lets go of your hand and continues eating like nothing ever happened.

                “Nothing! I’m alright.” You reply, trying to get ahold of yourself. “Wilhelm just reminded me of someone I work with onboard the Elsa.” Of course, your relationship is more than that of just two coworkers, but you can’t tell these people that. Despite how old he truly is, chaos looks like he’s sixteen, tops. “I guess I just got lost in thought thinking about him. I’m not going to marry Wilhelm, though.” You say, trying to make your tone sound joking. “I’ve never even met him before today!”

                “Oh, that’s too bad.” Nearly coos the elderly woman sitting to the right of the man. “You two would be such a cute couple. Have you ever thought about getting married, Mr. Wilhelm?”

                “I have, actually.” Wilhelm replies, pausing in the consumption of his dinner, and as you continue yours, you wonder, yet again, whether or not he’s telling the truth. If he is, who did he ever think about getting married to? Mary? chaos? Someone else? A long list of people, some of whom you know, some of whom you don’t, and all tossed aside in favor of the grand play and role that he wished to put on? You can’t imagine a guy like him having a really successful love life, considering the stunt he just pulled on you, knowing what your feelings towards him are, and what chaos has told you about him. “But I’ve never been able to find the right person, and I’ve been so busy lately that I simply haven’t had the time to mingle with other people.”

                “Then you should grab the bull by the horns while it’s sitting right next to you!” The old woman cries, and your whole being lurches, knowing what’s about to pop out of her mouth and what Wilhelm’s response will be, the sadistic motherfucker. Now you have a better understanding of why Wilhelm seated you next to him, but, like chaos said, understanding doesn’t always erase the pain, especially in this case. “How about you go on a date with this lovely young lady?”

                “Well,” Wilhelm says, genuinely sounding like he’s just discovered a gem that had been lying right under his nose this whole time, “that’s not such a bad idea. What do you say, Miss Langley?” He asks, turning to you with a friendly, warm smile that would charm anyone who didn’t already know the truth about him. For better or worse, though, you do, and you want to rip out all the teeth in his lying, pretty little mouth. “Would you mind gracing me with your presence next Thursday at nine o’clock?”

                “I’ll see what I can do.” You reply, forcing yourself to sound flattered and excited about the idea of a date with the enigmatic, handsome Mr. Wilhelm, instead of sighing and sounding like a sullen fifteen-year-old. What makes this even worse is the fact that you’re ninety-five to one hundred percent certain that Wilhelm knows what your true feelings are about the matter. “It’s not that I don’t want to go out with you, but the Elsa’s always busy running odd jobs in all sorts of places. How about you give me your email, and we’ll work the details out there?” You might not be able to tell Wilhelm no, you might not be able to scream for him to go to hell in this polite setting without looking like an insane bitch, but you’re not going to just let Wilhelm mess with you like this without trying to get some information out of him.

                “There’s no need for that.” Wilhelm replies, still grinning like he’s talking with a long-lost friend. “I already have your email, so I’ll send you a message later. I hope you’ll be able to find an opening in your schedule, though, Miss Langley. You seem like an interesting person, and I feel like I truly would be missing out on something if I let you slip through my fingers.”

                 “I’m not sure about that.” You reply, wishing you could strangle this man right now. So much for getting some good information out of him. “I tend to be a pretty quiet person, even around people I like. But hopefully Captain Matthews can let me go for a little while so that I can get to know you better. And, even if he can’t, I’ll still be able to message you and annoy you with a million personal questions.” You say, letting a trickle of your true feelings show with a teasing, mischievous look, though Wilhelm still looks perfectly and frustratingly friendly.

                 “And I’ll be able to share some songs I’m quite fond of with you. Do you like Wagner, by any chance?” Before you can tell him your opinion of Wagner (which, you predict, is nearly the complete opposite of his), the elderly woman across from you sighs happily.

                 “Ah, young love! You two enjoy it, now! From what I understand, it’s so much harder to find a good lover when you get older. Not that I would know. We may be old, but Thomas and I still enjoy ourselves like we aren’t a day over twenty!” While you’re not entirely pleased with this woman for being the catalyst of your date (though you know she’s not the one to blame), you still can’t help but be amused by her comments. You’re one thing, but while Wilhelm looks like he might be only five or ten years older than you, both he and you know that he’s as old as chaos, as old as Christianity. At least she gives you a new direction to take this conversation in. As you give the woman a friendly little smile, you secretly pinch Wilhelm as hard as you can under the table, where no one else can see. He doesn’t react, since he probably saw that you’d do this in his Compass, but it’s the least you can do to return the favor. Tit for tat.

                 “Then it’s good to hear that you two are still happy. What kind of person is Thomas, though? Hopefully he doesn’t mind going on long, exciting adventures with you!”

                 “Oh, no, not at all! Thomas loves to travel, and he can never sit still, so we’re always up and about from one place to another. It really is quite exciting. Not even the Gnosis can put a damper on our spirits while we’re traveling!”

                 “Isn’t that dangerous, though?” Asks the man sitting on your right as you start to seriously tuck back into your dinner. “There’s nothing wrong with traveling about and seeing the universe if you can, but you can’t let your traveling highs blind you to danger. I’d be horrified if the Gnosis ever did show up on one of your vessels.”

                 “Oh, relax.” The woman laughs, and as she speaks, you slowly become the listener in the conversation again. Not that you mind, since you’d like to finish eating, but you hope that Wilhelm doesn’t have anything else in store for you. Being a listener is like being the goalie on a hockey team sometimes. If you’re not alert enough or zone out, you might not be in time to stop something horrible from getting past you, and as sadistic as Wilhelm is, both willingly and not, one wrong turn in the conversation that you weren’t able to prevent might spell doom for you or those you care about. “We’ve never actually seen the Gnosis while we’ve been out and about. Besides, Thomas and I have talked about it, and we both feel that, even if the Gnosis were to come onboard one of our ships, there wouldn’t be anything we could do about it. It’s like worrying about a random comet suddenly hitting you. Worry or not, it’ll still come!” She says, laughing again, and while you still don’t like the way she roped you into a date with Wilhelm, you know where she’s coming from here.

                 You don’t have to worry about the Gnosis now, since chaos protects everyone onboard the Elsa, but even before you met him and started working for Captain Matthews, you didn’t worry about them for exactly the same reason-there was no point in doing so. Not that you really want to die, but you don’t think there’s any sense in worrying about things you can’t prevent. Wilhelm could decide to send in one of his workers to kill you in the bathroom after dinner, but there’s no point in worrying about that because you can’t do anything about it. You might be a weird human, but you’re still a human without any special powers (at least, as far as you know.).

                  Thankfully, as the conversation starts to die down and dinner draws to a close, your imaginary scenario in the bathroom doesn’t come to pass. Wilhelm’s presence decides not to follow you into the bathroom, so you can pee and wash up without yet another thing to deal with. When you come out and find Shion in the reception area, though, he decides to mess with you again. Not immediately, though. Like a patient hunter who’s stalking the wariest antelope in the universe, he lets you and Shion talk about your meals, how much fun you had, and doesn’t even come into the picture when Shion starts, a confused look on her face.

                  “I heard that Wilhelm asked you out on a date next Thursday. How did you manage to make that happen? I didn’t think he had much in the way of friends, much less romantic interests.”

                  “I honestly have no idea.” You reply, lying through your teeth, though you try to look surprised about your new outing. Happy, but excited, despite the truth of the matter. “Wilhelm mentioned that he’s thought about getting married, even though he can never find the time to look for the right person, and the woman across from me joked that he should go out with me, since I was an open opportunity and we’d make a cute couple. I guess he decided to take her seriously, and I didn’t see any reason to turn him down. I don’t know him well enough yet to really say ‘no’ to a date with him.”

                  “Well, from what I know, he shouldn’t ever give you any reason to say ‘no’.” Shion says, though she looks a bit awkward discussing romance with you, though you can understand why, given her position. You don’t imagine that too many people grieving the loss of a lover would be comfortable or completely happy talking about someone else’s romantic prospects. “Of course, Wilhelm doesn’t make too many public appearances, but I hear that whenever he does, he’s always a perfect gentleman to everyone, no matter who they are.”

                  “Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I don’t have anything to worry about.” You reply, forcing the fake grin to stay on your face. You know that there’s more to Wilhelm than he lets on, but you can’t go on about that here. At least, not without looking like a complete lunatic. “I just hope I don’t bore him to death.”

                  “Don’t worry! You won’t! I don’t think Captain Matthews is allowed to hire anyone who isn’t interesting, considering his crew. Speaking of which, you should probably stay at my place tonight. I can’t think of any transportation service that’ll come all the way out here without charging you an arm and a leg for it.”

                   “I’ll admit that there aren’t that many good services that’ll come out here without charging you out the wazoo, but there are a few more than you might think. I’ll just keep calling around until I find someone to take me back to the Elsa. I really appreciate the offer, but I know that if I’m not there to cook breakfast, I’ll never hear the end of it from the Captain.” It’s at this moment that Wilhelm chooses to strike again, quietly sidling up to you two like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you two are actually friends of his and he’s not planning on messing with you two or harming you or your loved ones later on.

                   “Forgive me, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.” He says to you, a warm little smile on his face that might have been endearing if you didn’t already know the truth about him (or at least most of it.). “If you really have to go back, I could always ask one of my shuttles to take you home, free of charge.”

                   “Are you sure?” You ask, eighty to ninety-five percent sure that Wilhelm is planning to use this little gesture of goodwill for something, even though you know that you can’t refuse without looking rude, insane, or both in front of everyone. “I really don’t mind calling around. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

                   “There’s no need to worry about that.” He replies, and while you know that you might be acting overly paranoid, you’d swear that Wilhelm’s little grin looked sadistic for a moment, like he knew something that was vital to the survival of the human race, knew that you knew he had it, and enjoyed only giving you bits and pieces of his information at a time, like you were a dog or cat to be played with. “It wouldn’t be an inconvenience for me to know that you made it home safely. Far from it, really. You seem like a lovely person. I would hate to lose you, and I especially wouldn’t want my date to die before we exchanged a single email.”

                   If you two were alone, you’d probably hit him at this point and yell that you never would have agreed to go on a date with him if he didn’t set this whole scenario up and knew that you couldn’t refuse in front of a bunch of other people without looking like a weird, crazy person. But, since you’re still in front of other people, Wilhelm’s best weapon against you this evening, you grit your teeth and try to respond like a normal, grateful girl, like nothing’s wrong at all, like Wilhelm hasn’t bothered you all evening.

                   “I’m not going to die just from calling shuttle services until I get lucky. It’s more likely that the Gnosis will take me out, and I don’t even worry about them. But, if you really don’t mind, then I’ll take you up on your offer. People or Gnosis, I can’t die until I learn a little bit more about you, Wilhelm.” Wilhelm, with his eternally perfect poker face, nods at you. If Wilhelm was a normal person, you’d joke about it, saying that he should use it to win or steal millions of dollars out of people instead of setting up the biggest company in the universe (after all, he does have the looks for a phantom thief), but, for better or worse, he isn’t.

                   “Even though you don’t worry about the Gnosis, you should still worry about Humans. Dangerous times tend to bring out the worst and best in people, and if you’re overly careless, they might do something horrible to you. Thank you for accepting my offer, though. It truly is a weight lifted from my mind. Follow me, and I’ll show you where the shuttles are. And, Miss Uzuki?” He asks, turning his attention to Shion.

                   “Oh? Yes sir?”

                   “Please keep up the good work with KOS-MOS. Her systems have shown a lot of improvement while you’ve been working with her, and we’ve acquired a lot of good data while you’ve been out in the field with her. I’m sure whatever new upgrades you come up with next shall be truly magnificent.” You have no idea whether Wilhelm’s just trying to pay Shion a compliment (for whatever reason), hint at a new and-possibly-sinister upgrade that’s going to occur thanks to him, or both, but the compliment does make you wonder (normally, it might make you a bit more suspicious too, but you’ve found that worrying about and being suspicious of Wilhelm all the time just wears you out, and you’ve been so suspicious this evening that you’re too exhausted to worry about any more of Wilhelm’s machinations unless they’re staring you right in the face.). Of course, since Shion’s unaware of the potential danger and who she’s dealing with, she just gives Wilhelm a shining, proud smile.

                   “Thank you very much, Sir! It really does mean a lot to hear that from you, considering everything we’ve put KOS-MOS through. I’m not sure what we’ll come up with next, and there aren’t any real-world testing scenarios we can put her in at the moment, but I hope we’ll exceed your expectations, whatever we all decide to do next!”

                    “There’s no need to worry, Miss Uzuki. I’m confident that you will.” With that, Wilhelm turns away from Shion and starts to walk out of the room. You follow him, since he’s supposed to be taking you to a private shuttle, but the moment you two are alone (at least, as far as you can tell), you try to relax with a long, low sigh, letting your rock-hard mask of a friendly, happy smile finally fall away so that you can genuinely express your feelings of exhaustion, distrust, and dislike of Wilhelm. As you walk through a few metallic hallways, you consider seriously grilling Wilhelm about why he set you two up on a date, but after a few moments, you decide against it. It’s not that you don’t want an answer, but you know that you can’t fully trust anything that comes out of Wilhelm’s mouth. You’d have more luck asking chaos about it later, assuming he was even monitoring Wilhelm this evening to make sure he didn’t do anything uncouth to you.

                    So, you two walk in silence until you both come into a large ship docking and takeoff room with various ships and shuttles of different shapes, sizes, and colors all scattered about the place. As you follow Wilhelm, you can’t help but look around, your head swiveling about like a three hundred and sixty degree camera. Everything just looks amazing, and you’re sure that if your mother were here, she’d get a kick out of examining and exploring every craft here. If Wilhelm is amused by your antics, he doesn’t show it (though he probably knew that you were going to do this long before you did it.). He simply leads you to a small, violet-colored shuttle before turning back towards you, a smile on his face, though you have no idea how genuine it is. “Go right on in. The Captain of the Vorabend has already been made aware of your situation, so just give him the coordinates of wherever you wish to go, and he’ll take you there, free of charge.”

                    “Thank you. I guess I’ll talk to you later, then.” As you reply, you wonder whether or not Wilhelm set this part of the evening up with one of his Testaments or Vector employees beforehand, since you didn’t see him typing on any devices to fill anyone in on your situation while you two were walking here. It’s possible that he just asked someone to meet the two of you down here so that they could take you home before he spoke to you, but..considering that this is Wilhelm, you think there’s only a five to ten percent chance that possibility is actually a reality.

                    “There’s no need to guess. I know we’ll see each other again, Miss Langley.” You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead, you simply smile and nod at Wilhelm as you hold in your anger and board the shuttle from the bottom entrance, which leads you into a small storage room that looks like it doesn’t get much use. It looks like there’s only about five or six boxes in here, and there’s no way for you to know how long they’ve been here or how long they’ll continue to be here. On the plus side, though, the lack of clutter makes it easy to see the door on your left-hand side, which you might not have been able to find if this shuttle were in general use (you suspect it isn’t). God knows it can be nearly impossible to navigate the Elsa’s cargo hold sometimes, after Captain Matthews has finished loading it full of junk.

                    The next door opens into what looks to be a combination of a kitchen and a rec room. It’s bigger than the storage room, but it’s still not big enough to put a bed in without taking up a decent amount of space. Instead, on the rec half of the room (which is the part the door leads you into), there’s a long, cozy sitting area bolted into the wall that’s wide enough for people to lie down and sleep on. It kind of reminds you of an old R.V., or a tour bus that a band might have used while Earth was still around. To the right of this sleeping area, there’s a long, brown table and an old television behind it, though you wouldn’t say that they get a lot of use either. This whole room feels just like the storage room-there are no personal effects or books anywhere, and the whole place feels cold, abandoned, and unloved. If Wilhelm were here, you’d joke around, saying that he needed to pick a better ship if he was trying to impress you, or that it’s an insult to your intelligence and your sense of taste if he thought you were going to be impressed by such an unloved ship.

                    But, since he isn’t, you walk through the room and open the door at the north end, which finally takes you to the bridge. Not that the bridge is very big, either-it’s only big enough to contain an all-purpose command module and controls for transportation, communication, connecting to the U.M.N. (which is necessary for all sorts of reasons), offense, just in case the shuttle is under attack at some point, and anything else that’s necessary for piloting, observing, and protecting a ship, along with a second offensive module on the right, just in case the-possibly nonexistent-co-pilot’s combat services are required to shoot down other craft and Gnosis while the main pilot guides the shuttle through rough space, and two chairs in front of each module, one of which is currently being occupied by a man with short, light blue hair and a cold expression wearing a black shirt, blue pants, brown boots, and a navy blue jacket. He may or may not be happy to see you, but at least his tone is somewhat cordial, even if it does sound a little forced.

                    “There you are. You must be Miss Langley. I’m Kyle, the pilot of the Vorabend. Wilhelm told me you’d be here eventually. Just tell me where you want to go, and we’ll be right on our way.”

                    “Ah, al-alright then.” While you do your best to give Kyle the coordinates to the Elsa as coolly as you can, your voice falters and stutters a few times, which just makes you feel like yelling at yourself. After all, it’s not like you don’t know who this guy is. He’s either a Vector employee who’s in the know about Wilhelm, or one of his Testaments (though you suspect the latter more than the former). There’s no reason to feel anxious or falter around this guy logically. It’s just hard not to emotionally stumble when someone is looking at you like Mrs. Danvers. You’ve half a mind to ask whether or not this guy is genuinely in love with Wilhelm, but,  you get the feeling that the half-joke would probably piss him off, even if he decided not to show it or act on it (at least for the moment), so you don’t. You just try to calm down and get your feelings together while Kyle inputs the coordinates and gives you a frosty smile.

                    “Thank you so much, Miss. I’ll take it from here. You can go in the back and rest until we get there.” You quietly sigh to collect yourself before you reply, hoping that Kyle doesn’t notice, or, if he does, doesn’t completely understand or care about why you’re doing so.

                    “Thanks. If I fall asleep, just shake me, and I’ll be on my way. You don’t have to carry me all the way back to my bed on the Elsa.”

                    “Of course.” Kyle replies, his smile still as chilly as before. “I was planning on doing that anyway.” You can’t think of anything else to say, and Kyle both has to fly the Vorabend and seems to have a low opinion of you at best, so you head back to the rec room and sit down on the sleeping area, pondering whether or not you’re tired enough to actually fall asleep. You don’t think you do, but there’s nothing else to do on this ship. Plus, your back could probably use a rest. So, you sigh and curl up on the sleeping area, smoothing out your skirt so that Kyle won’t accidentally get a look at anything, before closing your eyes and doing your best to relax your being, playing a calming song in your head that always makes you feel sleepy.

                    It must work at some point, even though it feels like you’ve been lying there for three hundred years, because at some point, someone shakes you awake, even though you didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep. With a little groan, you open your eyes and see Kyle standing over you, the cold, semi-mocking smile still on his face. “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Langley,” he says, even though he sounds like someone who just found their worst enemy in the most venerable and embarrassing position imaginable, “but I just landed inside the Elsa. We’re here.” He adds as you sit up, like you’re a moron who can’t figure out what landing inside the Elsa means for you. You do your best to glare at him as you rub your eyes before getting up and stretching a little-but not so much that it gives Kyle more ammunition to mock you with.

                    “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later.”

                    “You probably will, Miss Langley.” Not only is that similar to what Wilhelm said to you before you left him, Kyle says that in the most mocking, patronizing tone imaginable, like he’s speaking to a stupid maid working at his manor who dreams of being a rich mistress herself someday, even though she’s too stupid to look after cattle, much less run an estate. You have to grit your hand as hard as you possibly can to stop yourself from just punching or letting loose on this guy. You hate Wilhelm, but even he wasn’t as cold, patronizing, or rude as this asshole.

                    “We’ll see.” You reply, your voice cold enough to instantly freeze twenty men, as you head out of the shuttle and into the Elsa’s dock. You speedwalk out as quickly as you can so that the shuttle can leave as soon as possible, and as you head up to your bedroom (which is just your own little section in the woman’s sleeping quarters), you idly wonder who let the Vorabend in, since it is getting pretty late, and since Captain Matthews tends to wake up early in the morning, everyone else tries to go to bed at a decent hour so that they don’t have hell to pay in the morning (the only person he goes easy on is chaos, who, ironically, sleeps in more than anyone else on the ship, including your passengers.).

                    Probably chaos, though you don’t really feel inclined to check the men’s sleeping room to be sure, just in case you’re right and everyone else is asleep in there, or the bridge. Normally, you might, if you had a better night with different people and wanted to share some of the dinner highlights with him, but you had an awful night with Wilhelm, and it’s likely that he already knows about it. Plus, you’re not really in the mood to have a good, objective conversation about Wilhelm and his awful pilot with chaos, someone who doesn’t have a burning hatred of Wilhelm, but can also neither completely like or trust him anymore, while also remaining aware of his feelings and issues. Instead, you just head to the woman’s sleeping quarters, slip off your shoes, and head to the kitchen for a good cup of tea. You need to unwind and relax before you can even think about going to bed. You’ll tell everyone about your ordeal-sans what Wilhelm did, which’ll be for chaos’s ears only-tomorrow.

#self-insert #self-shipping #f/o #Wilhelm #fucking kismesis #fanfiction #fanfic #Xenosaga

[halsteadsass]

Kaleidoscopes

Fandom: Skam [on ao3] 

Pairing: Noora/William | Noorhelm ; Chris/Eva | Chriseva

Part: One

Summary: William has finally moved in with Noora and is now dealing with the repercussions of being cut off. Chris has made it clear where he stands with Eva, but what happens when what was once enough isn't anymore? Life goes on. At least that's what everybody says. 

or 

the one where an adventure begins and another one ends.

**

The party was quite beautiful.

There was something about the way a celebration can bring together people from all walks of life. Each person had affected each other in one way or another. Sometimes all it took was one choice.

They would all remember this moment. In ten years from now, when they're all in different paths in life, this is what they'd look back on. They we're all connected.

Forever or fleeting, that mattered.

Everything was going to change after today. He had no idea where his life was heading. If he was good at anything, it was pretending that everything was fine.

William Magnusson, affected by anything? Not a chance.

Except that was a facade. Shit did get to him, but his problems were his own.

"So, I was talking to Eva earlier." Noora says as she casually strolls up to the spot he's been sitting. Taking a seat right in his lap, throwing him off balance in his thoughts.

"Did she say anything about what's going on with Chris?" he asks.

William was worried, to say the least. He had seen Chris be adamant about a lot of things in the span of time he's known him. The moral of the story - cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye promises were shit and he'd change his mind in a heartbeat. William had to keep reminding himself that things are different now, of course. They've grown up and matured. He questioned Chris the same way when Chris told him he would be joining the army. It's not to make him doubt himself, but be absolutely fucking sure. Chris deserved to feel the amount of happiness he felt. Nevertheless, William knows Chris can handle himself, but there was a part of him that still felt the need to look out for him.

It's always been the two of them against the world.

Being seven making paper eye patches to wear during their sword fights, sharing chicken pox miserably at nine but it was okay because wearing mittens as lobster claws was cool, the race at eleven for whose voice would crack and who'd get their first armpit hair first, turning fifteen and competing for the higher amount of goals in football for a dumb trophy or being seventeen doing Russ together while throwing what they thought were groundbreaking parties. The time at nineteen fates finally deemed goodbye for a while was necessary.

"Promise me that no matter how far we're separated this isn't a permanent goodbye." Chris muttered quickly because feelings sucked. Change was scary. He was smart enough to know that this would happen one day. He just never wanted it too. "You're my best friend."

William expected this to go much easier. Everyone found it so easy to leave him so why was it so hard to just pick himself for once. Chris had never left him. It was that simple. Instead, William felt terrible like he was losing a limb from his body, but he'd never dare show it. "When Noora and I have kids, I need proof that I was cooler."

"Fuck you, Magnusson."

"You wish."

One pill after another to swallow.

"I think I'm in love with Eva." That statement didn't throw William. It's been four years leading up to this moment. Two spent where Chris only had eyes for Eva. Anyone involved with either of them could see it. For Christ-sakes, they've been attached at the hip. He's more surprised that its taken him this long to admit he has feelings.

William rests his head on her shoulder looking back in the same spot he was earlier - Chris and Eva dancing to some slow song he doesn't know the name of.

"Is this why you're sitting here brooding?" Noora asks.

"Chris told me he thinks he's in love with her."

Noora spun her head around quickly to look at him, "What?"

"He dropped it on me and I told him that he isn't." William admitted. He's starting to get that really awful itch inside of his stomach he gets when he knows he's done something he shouldn't have. Don't get him wrong, at the moment, he thought what he was saying was correct.

Now that stupid advice he gave isn't looking too hot. He's noticed how anxious Chris has been the last couple days in anticipation to how Chris has not taken his eyes off Eva since they picked her up.

"I think I was wrong." William states. He missed the mark completely.

Noora surveyed the scene in front of her, "I have never seen Chris be nervous around a girl, especially Eva. He's trying." Swiping the fallen pieces of William's hair out of his face, Noora continued, "I think I'd be really great if he got some encouraging words from his best friend."

William picked Noora up and gently sat her down in the spot he previously occupied. "I think I will."

Before William got too far away, Noora grabbed his hand to make him pause, "Eva's a little bit in love with him too. She's just scared, but you didn't hear it from me."

William gave a quick kiss to her inner palm, "Thank you."

"Can I steal him for a minute?" he asked after tapping on Chris's shoulder to get their attention.

"Aw, you want to dance? How sweet of you Wilhelm." Chris said in a sickeningly high pitched voice that made him to want to drill holes into his head. Not to mention, Chris thinking its hilarious to call him Wilhelm every once and a while to rile him up is going to have to stop.

"Funny. No, I actually need to talk to you."

Eva threw a wave of her hand in the air before she took off in the direction of Noora, "Bye boys."

Chris grabbed William's arm tightly,"Oh thank god, you came and saved me."

"What?" William scrunched up his nose in confusion. Saved him? What the fuck was going on.

"We have to get out of here." Chris said panicking.

William could see the sweat starting to pool around the edges of his hairline and it wasn't hot out. "Again, I repeat, what?"

"I was trying to tell Eva she's pretty but all I said was the purple is nice. Not that she looks pretty in her purple dress. JUST PURPLE." Chris was whisper yelling at him right now. "You never said it was this hard for you and Noora."

"It wasn't."

"You didn't win her over without woo-ing her."

"Woo-ing her? I won her over with my winning personality." William stated with the smile of a Cheshire cat.

"Where? In between the constant brooding or eye rolling?"

William placed his hands on both of Chris's shoulders, "No, that's only reserved for you."

"I hate you." Chris sighed miserably.

"Relatable."

"No wonder why she won't give me a chance. I think I love her and suddenly all my ability to speak to her like a normal human being flies out of the window."

"You just need to collect yourself. You're too much in you head right now. Being nervous is okay. Giving up is not a part of your vocabulary. You've never given up on anything in your life." He wants to say including him but he doesn't. "You don't need any big theatrics even though that's sort of your thing. Dramatics and all. You just need to be open and honest. Listen to every word she says and every word she doesn't. Be as loyal to her as you've been to me all these years. You're capable of being more than a high school reputation you've grown out of. Just be yourself."

"What if she doesn't like who I am?"

"Bullshit Chris. She wouldn't have had any type of contact with you for four years now if she hadn't." William so desperately wants to tell Chris what Noora told him but Chris should discover it on his own.

Chris takes a deep breath in through his nose and exhales through his mouth letting the nervous energy fall away, "Fuck, I wish there was some alcohol at this party."

"You got this." William says adamantly.

"I got this." Chris repeats confidently.

All would fall into place. It always does.

The games have officially begun.

**

Eskild just hasn't realized William's been playing along until then.

William could hear the bathroom door open despite the hot water hitting the bottom of the porcelain tub. There was no reason to speed up the shower process. No, he would make Eskild wait for the show he's been practically begging for.

He's not complaining.

He actually gets quite the kick out of it.

Eventually, he does have to get out of the shower and get ready. William would joke that the world does not revolve around a certain blonde that’s completely destroyed his world in a great way, but it does. It truly does.

Noora gave him a list of very specific rules.

One: Don't be late. Be at Eva's at eight o'clock sharp. (He's slightly offended since he's never been late once. The eight months definitely don't count.)

Two: Wear the black on black suit. Chris is wearing a light blue shirt to match Eva's dress. (Since when did Noora give Chris the time of day enough to give him clothes advice?)

Three: Reassure Chris. I'm doing the same with Eva. Anything and everything is possible. Our best friends deserve to be in love like us. (Except we're better.)

Four: This is not a rule. I love you. Thank you for always being the best. (He loves her too. He can't wait to see how beautiful she'll look tonight.)

If he fucked this up, he'd officially have a pissed off girlfriend and best friend for ruining the night.

A situation that is completely avoidable.

Turning the knob to kill the water, he pulled the shower curtain back. Eskild's eyes went from his face to his chest to his abs and finally to the money shot.

A smirk unfolded upon his lips as he fastened the towel around his waist. Extra low on the hips to show off the v on purpose. "I hope you enjoyed the show."

Eskild was flabbergasted. William had been there a month already and showed no signs of loosening up. The power point presentation was the last time the nerves choking him seemed to be nonexistent.

"You can give me one anytime, Willie."

"William, Eskild." He corrected. "Was it everything you hoped it to be?"

"More so, Wilhelm." Eskild said making a point. I guess it was better than pookie which he got the first week here.

Moving past Eskild, he felt a hand slide down his back. "Slick pookie."

William groaned internally. He spoke too soon.

**

The moon was shining exceptionally bright tonight.

Morning. This morning.

The chill has already creeped in, nipping at the tip of his nose and ears. Its made its home in his bones and upon every uncovered surface.

William's sort of mad at himself or maybe the world for pushing him back into this nasty habit again.

Definitely only his fault.

His lips are wrapped around the cigarette taking a long deep drag before exhaling the smoke burning his throat.

The streets are dead and the only sound he can hear are his own thoughts running rapid in his head. He was silently struggling with everything that was his life right now. The only happiness he had was Noora. She was his constant.

The new job was killing him, but he knew this is what he had to do. Taking orders wasn't something William was fond of because he was always the one giving them. Now he's sorting through law office mail and grabbing coffee. In Chris' words - a peasant. If William could have smacked the smirk off his face that day, he would of. The little shit makes one responsible decision in his life and he's suddenly on a pedestal.

William had to keep reminding himself this was a foot in the door as he flicked the cigarette into the middle of the street. He had to earn his way to the top and he respected that. Its just that adapting looked so much easier on everybody else.

The door of the apartment building creaked open and a sleepy Noora walked out. The guilt of worrying her when she awoke to an empty bed nawed at his insides, but when she sat down on the sidewalk curb right next to him, it vanished. She easily slipped her arm around his and the warmth she exuded sent chills down his spine. "What are you doing out here at three in the morning?"

He loved the sound of her voice when she was half awake. Raspy was cute on her.

"Thinking."

Noora tilted her head back to get a good look at his face, the worry lines evident in his forehead.

"You couldn't do it in bed?" she questioned. "I hate it when I can't feel you next to me." In an attempt to comfort him, Noora tugged him as close to her as she could manage.

William's expression turned warm, "It must be utterly devastating."

Noora nipped his earlobe with her teeth teasingly, "Only on the days Chris isn't available. We're finally at the point in our relationship where I'm accepting his offer on the threesome."

William scoffed his breath, "Over my dead body."

Noora smiled sickeningly sweet at the boy beside her, "That can be arranged, Wilhelm."

William leaned over giving her a kiss on her forehead, "You're lucky I love you."

Despite the sleepiness in her eyes, she managed to give him the most god damn beautiful smile he's always grateful to see, "I love you too, but you better give me a real kiss."

"Your wish is my command."

He made it agonizingly slow. Dragging his lips along her jawline, peppering kisses on her chin and around her lips. William's right hand cupped Noora's cheek, finally bringing his lips to hers.

They sat in silence after that.

Eventually, one of them had to surrender. Neither of them wanted to ruin the moment. The reality of the situation was that William was out here for a reason. No amount of banter would make that go away.

So Noora broke the silence, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

Blissful moment over.

William considered just pushing it aside, working through it on his own, but Noora would see right through him. Sometimes he misses the day he was a mystery to her.

"I'm just having a hard time compartmentalizing everything."

Confusion washed over her, 'What do you mean?"

William sighed, "Starting over. Spending that month depending on you in a way I shouldn't have to. Accepting my position at work." Does my father even care about how I'm surviving?

He doesn't say that out loud.

"Listen to me, William Magnusson. Everyone in their life has to make hard decisions and you should be proud of yourself for what you have accomplished. Not everyone can be as strong as you have been. You may not see it, but everyone else does. I do."

"My father has made me feel like I've been a burden my whole life. I don't want to become one to you." he admitted.

Noora looked him straight in the eyes, her gaze steady and strong, "You have always taken care of me and now its my turn. You have to let me do that for you."

"I just want to be the best man I can be for you because its what you deserve. Not a man who is one step away from falling apart."

"Acknowledging that you aren't okay is a step in the right direction."

"You think so?" This was new to William. The constant questioning of every distinct moment currently happening in his life.

Noora nodded, "I know so. Everything can only get better from here."

**

Chris has taken romantic gestures to a whole new level.

It's one thing to wake up to breakfast in bed, but a whole other thing to wake up to a huge feast surrounded by rose petals.

The intense floral smell was too distinct for her to ignore and go back to sleep.

Eva pulls herself up into sitting position to find herself the only one in bed. The last she remembers, Chris was in bed next to her holding her tightly. Just the way she liked. It always made her feel so safe - so wanted.

This side of Chris was different. She admired it.

Here's the kicker, not everything about him has changed. He's not one to pull something of this caliber and not stay for the show.

"Paint me like one of your french boys, Eva." Chris teases flipping the spare blanket open to flash his goods from where's he laying on her lounge.

"Fuck, Chris." Eva laughs clutching her chest. "You scared me."

"You're welcome." He was so proud of himself. Eva bets he's giving himself mental pats on the shoulders for being so brilliant.

"Do you like it?" Chris asks, smiling so wide it reminds her of a kid in a candy shop.

Eva shrugs her bare shoulders, "You know I can't answer that. I haven't tried it yet." She doesn't add in the part that everything he's ever made her has been delicious. She can't afford to feed his ego farther.

She appreciates it all. Who doesn't like to get pampered in this fashion? The effort he's been putting in hasn't gone unnoticed.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asks.

"For you to feed it to me." Eva quips back grabbing the fork and knife ready to pick at the blueberry pancakes.

"What if you just have me for breakfast instead?" Chris asks suggestively making Eva drop the fork onto the tray.

She looks up to look at him and there's nothing about him that's joking.

Well damn. How do you say no to that?

#noora saetre #william magnusson #noorhelm #eva mohn #chris schistad #chriseva #skam #my fic #noora amalie sætre

[segadores-y-soldados]

Talon: Clawing to the Top

Alright, everyone, craziness went down today, but one of the things I’m most HYPED about is the confirmation that Talon is run by a council of leaders.

Most importantly, these leaders disagree with each other.

This is a big deal.  We know so little about Talon’s structure that it’s great to finally get some news on the internal hierarchy of the organization.  Some of the things I’ve pulled together are statements or implications made by Blizzard, some of it is just putting the pieces together, and a lot of it is pure speculation.  I’ll try to keep it clear what’s what.

To start off with, I’m going to be dropping my main hypothesis:

[Main Hypothesis]: the “global conflict” that Doomfist’s faction within Talon has been trying to spread is the Second Omnic Crisis.

[Subset Hypothesis]: the group within Talon that is trying to prevent this is none other than Sombra and Reaper.

As a sort of guide, when I say [Factual Lore] these are things you can double-check in Overwatch dev interviews, Chu’s GDC talk, heroes’ biographies, etc.  When I say [Implications], I’m talking about trying to read in between the lines, to assess what certain things are trying to hint at or indicate.  When I say [Hypothesis] I’m just speculating and constructing a discussion point.

We’re gonna go way, way far back, all the way to the beginning:

The First Omnic Crisis

[Factual Lore]: As many OW fans know, in the universe of Overwatch, a major war occurs between humanity and robots called Omnics.  This war occurs approximately 30 years from present time (2046-2047) or 30 years in the past from current Overwatch time (2076-2077).  This war was a global near-apocalypse for humanity, called the Omnic Crisis, which was prevented by a task force of at least five people - Gabriel Reyes, Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, Reinhardt Wilhelm, and Torbjörn Lindholm - who conducted mainly small, infiltration missions to destroy Omnic bases or factories called Omniums.  This task force was called Overwatch.

[Implications]: What you may not have realized is that the Crisis likely caused a massive shift in how many aspects of the world function.  Blizzard - specifically lead writer Michael Chu - has called the genre that Overwatch dabbles in as “firm science fiction.”  They describe this as being “between soft science fiction and hard science fiction,” with the former lacking explanations for how things operate or work, and the latter being too detailed in descriptions.  The Overwatch development team opted for a middle ground where some things are explained or at least “feel natural” to the audience - London now has a massive skyscraper metropolis in it, there are robots working in various cities, the world has moved onto cleaner technologies, etc.

However, in doing so, there are some interesting subtleties that many Overwatch fans appear to have missed.

Primarily, the gasoline and oil industries - along with possibly “current auto makers” - appear to have died out.

Consider this:

The United States by and large lacks a consistent, cheap railway system for passengers.  There are definitely a few passenger rails and certainly predominant subway systems in some major cities, but overall, almost no one travels cross-country by train.  If you have time, driving by car is arguably “cheaper” and if you have money, picking a plane saves you on time.

But in Overwatch, almost nothing runs on gasoline, and while cars exist, they hover.

The most decrepit and underutilized building in the Route 66 map is the gas station, which is falling apart.  Compared to the Diner, which is still being operated, and the other buildings (probably maintained by Deadlock), the gas station is in a wretched condition.

More than that, McCree’s comic gives us the implication that new passenger railways have been built in the United States.

It makes...some sense, especially if we consider that the world is shifting towards using fusion power in everything.  LumériCo is a major example: the entire country of Mexico is in the process of switching over to making everything run on an electricity grid powered by LumériCo fusion cells.  By the time the game takes place, the world of Overwatch has flying cars, express trains everywhere (including a not-train-friendly place like the U.S.), and fusion power.  It doesn’t need gasoline or oil anymore, not in the same quantities is does in our world.

What we should probably question is how much of this is due to the Crisis.  It’s extremely hard to say.  We know that Mexico and parts of Centroamérica lost major sources of power in an event called La Medianoche - The Midnight - which LumériCo President Portero cites as a major motivating goal in moving Mexico towards a “sustainable” energy source.  We don’t know much about other countries during the Crisis, but we know Australia lost a significant amount of land (which they eventually conceded to a surviving “Outback Omnium”), and we now know that Nigeria struggled with an Omnium and the OR-14’s.

Another thing to consider is how much of this was post-Crisis Overwatch’s involvement.  If Mei is any indication, Overwatch was at one time committed to restoring various ecosystems, including melting ice caps and permafrost (which is part of what Mei was studying).  If Overwatch is somehow enforcing sanctions on companies that damage environmental resources, it seems likely that they could’ve had a hand in “killing off” gasoline and oil companies.

So here’s the real question:

What kind of crazyass political and social power does it take to kill off whole technological industries?

Why do I bring this up?

Because some people will see war as the ability to advance human industry (spoiler alert: this character was released on the PTR today and his name starts with a D and rhymes with Boomfist), and other people will see war as a killer of older technologies.  Some people profit in wartime, and other people profit in peacetime.  One need only to look at the U.S.’s economic boom in World War II or the military-industrial complex to see how it works.

What better way to usher in another new technological era than to force the world to war?

[Implications]: We know that Blizzard has been touting the Post-Crisis Omnics as a cheap labor force in various parts of the world, specifically in the United Kingdom.  Part of why Null Sector emerged was as an extremist reaction to the treatment of Omnic laborers.

Furthermore, these tensions between the humans enjoying Post-Crisis prosperity and the Omnics suffering as they work to support it have not subsided.  In Alive, we see that Mondatta has returned to London to speak about encouraging harmony between humans and Omnics, and we know that tensions continue to sizzle in Australia, Russia, and Korea.  Numbani is the deviation, not the new standard.  All the Overwatch characters have varying reactions to places like the Shambali Monastery in Nepal and Numbani in Nigeria, ranging from outright disgust and hatred to acceptance and hope.

So tensions are not exactly smooth in the present Overwatch world - we have shifting technologies and a psuedo-class-based struggle with a new labor force that lacks rights.

The world is poised on the edge of something very, very big.

Something that has yet to be really, truly explored by Blizzard.

News Announcer in Recall: The Second Omnic Crisis continues to devastate Russia.  The conflict between Omnics and humans has now claimed over fifteen-thousand lives.  So far, the international community has been reluctant to intervene.

The Second Omnic Crisis

[Factual Lore]: What’s been quietly building in the background of all these lore drops is a new, Second Omnic Crisis.  Currently, the only character directly engaged in the war is Zarya, who was stationed at the Siberian front against the revived Siberian Omnium, but D.Va also appears to be semi-engaged in a building battle, being drafted into MEKA to fight a monstrous Sea Titan that emerges from the ocean to wreck havoc on parts of Korea.

[Implications]: What gets really interesting is Talon’s role in this.  Talon appears to be anti-Omnic, assassinating a major, peace-loving Omnic leader for seemingly no purpose.  Perhaps they want the war to spread?  Perhaps they want to fan the flames of discord and chaos?

Talon is also the organization that sets out to kill Katya Volskaya.  At first glance, this seems like Talon is trying to aid the Omnic forces, but consider the scenario that results if they had actually killed her: with Katya’s death, the company is thrown into chaos.  No one but Katya knows where they are getting their new technology from, so mech production stalls.  The new mechs are not deployed to the Siberian front, resulting in a major technological weakness.

This would permit the Second Omnic Crisis to overwhelm the human forces there, and spread outwards to the rest of the world.

[Factual Lore]: Jeff Kaplan: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uKkAyLPJe0)

“One thing you may not have known is that Doomfist is a prominent member of the Talon leadership.  So, contrary to popular belief, Reaper is not the sole leader of Talon - there’s actually a council of leaders who oversee Talon - and sometimes they agree with each other, and sometimes they disagree with each other.  And Doomfist is a very important member of that Talon council.  Now, Doomfist’s ideology is that he wants to see humankind become more powerful, and he thinks the way for that to happen is through conflict.  So it’s kinda a harsh worldview, but he really believes that we as humans get stronger the more conflict that we endure.”

[Factual Lore]: Doomfist’s biography

“Recently freed from imprisonment, Doomfist is determined to plunge the world into a new conflict that he believes will make humanity stronger.”

“As the new Doomfist, Ogundimu rose high in Talon and helped to orchestrate a conflict that the organization hoped would someday engulf the world. However, before their plan came to fruition, Ogundimu was defeated and captured by an Overwatch strike team that included Tracer, Winston, and Genji. He was imprisoned in a maximum-security facility for years, where he waited patiently for events he had incited to play out.”

(Things that occurred while Doomfist was in prison: the collapse of Overwatch, the ‘return’ of the Siberian Omnium, the death of Mondatta, Anubis attempting to break out of confinement, Deadlock and Los Muertos expanding their power.)

Finally, he sensed that the time had come for him to return. He broke out of his prison and recovered Doomfist's gauntlet in a one-sided battle with Numbani's newly unveiled OR15 defense robots. Now, he has retaken his place in Talon's inner council, ready to spark a war that will consume the world once again.”

[Factual Lore]: Doomfist on King’s Row:

“Omnics will not be kept down forever. The ashes of the Crisis still smolder.”

[Hypothesis]: the conflict Doomfist wants to see expand to engulf the war is the Second Omnic Crisis.

Someone - whether Doomfist himself operating out of the Helix prison, or a follower of Doomfist within the Talon Council - approved the assassination of Mondatta, hoping this would incite more Omnic riots and encourage Omnics to engage in a large scale war once again.  Someone else approved the assassination of Katya Volskaya.

Something that’s important to consider, however, is that Volskaya has a partnership with LumériCo, a company which is currently profiting off of the last major technological switch that occurred either due to, or in the wake of, the First Omnic Crisis.  Furthermore, LumériCo has a partnership with Vishkar, which is also benefitting from doing construction projects in peacetime.  And Volskaya itself is getting technology from Omnics in Numbani, a city that promotes peace.

Killing Katya Volskaya had the potential to set off a massive chain reaction in which all these corporate alliances fall apart, effectively breaking down the current technological and economical structures that maintain the present world of Overwatch.  Furthermore, Katya Volskaya is seen as a hero to the Russians, and her death would have angered them and motivated them to fight further.

It seemed like a prime opportunity for the faction within Talon that wants to spread global conflict to make its move.

But the assassination failed.

Quite deliberately.

The One Who Pulls The Strings

In Infiltration, we reach the revelation that Sombra was actually the one who cause the assassination mission to fail, quite intentionally.  Even though she had a major opportunity to kill Katya Volskaya, she chooses not to, and instead threatens to blackmail her with proof of her trading “with the enemy.”  We end the scene with Sombra saying that she’ll “be in touch” with Katya over what exactly Sombra wants the CEO to do.

Alongside this, we’ve seen other “major Talon missions” fail - rather spectacularly.  The biggest issues it that Sombra isn’t directly involved in at least two of them.

[Factual Lore]: Reaper is sent by Talon, along with a squad of “standard grunts” to steal the remaining Overwatch agent list from Athena in Recall.  His team fails to subdue Winston, and Reaper fails to 1) gain the list and 2) stop Winston.

[Factual Lore]: Reaper and Widowmaker are sent to retrieve Doomfist’s Gauntlet sometime after Overwatch was Recalled.  They encounter Winston and Tracer who try to stop them.  They fail to retrieve the Gauntlet, and are forced to escape.

[Implications]: In BOTH shorts, Reaper has at least two opportunities to shoot Winston at point-blank range.  In BOTH instances, Reaper chooses not to - in Recall, he briefly incapacitates Winston by...knocking part of a spaceship on his head, and in the Museum Heist, Reaper goes out of his way to step on Winston’s glasses, an act that pushes Winston into rage mode and effectively makes him and Widowmaker lose the battle.

This is combined with the fact that Reaper consistently “fails” missions - often acting completely “irrationally” for a man who has spent like 30 years knowing how to use dual shotguns and leading a major black ops division.  In the Old Soldiers comic, Reaper has an opportunity to shoot Soldier: 76 in the head at point-blank range, and choose to attempt to incapacitate him instead (eventually, Reaper foregoes his shotguns altogether to fight hand-to-hand).  In the same comic, he later rematerializes near Ana, and rather than shoot her, engages in hand-to-hand combat instead.  

Reaper has failed to kill every ex-Overwatch agent he has come across in every canon material piece he has been in.

In Infiltration, Reaper chooses not to shoot at a Volskaya employee who knocks himself out on a mech.  Rather than wraith after Katya, Reaper instead engages in a seemingly monumental task of fighting one-on-one with a goddamn battle mech.

So just to reiterate:

Reaper - a man skilled in black ops, stealth, and lethal close-range fighting - has consistently chosen to not use any of these abilities in several major Talon missions.

Why?

[Hypothesis]: Reaper and Sombra want to see the Talon leadership fail.

For Sombra, this is almost certainly the case.  She actively undermines an assassination mission, and she states outright in her Origins video that she wants uncover the weaknesses of the people who “run the world.”  As I suggested in my Doomfist essay, I think it is incredibly likely that Sombra believes assisting Doomfist in his freedom will cause possible leaks in at least two places: Helix in the Temple of Anubis, and the pro-Volskaya Omnic faction in Numbani.

With the newest information about Talon, I’d also say that Sombra anticipates there might be a third place for an information leak:

The Talon leadership.

We know that the Talon council members do not always agree with each other, possibly about missions, objectives, and ideologies.  Doomfist may be able to rally a faction of the Talon leaders, but by critically undermining them in key missions, Sombra has put immense pressure on them to make hastier, more precarious moves.

Reaper is possibly a part of this.

Consider: Reaper not only failed to kill Winston in Recall, but by fighting him, actually encourages Winston to take the final step towards initiating Recall.  We already know that the Talon leadership - and specifically Doomfist - found Overwatch to be a major roadblock to the conflict they wanted to achieve.

[Factual Lore]: Jeff Kaplan:

“Obviously Overwatch is a world group that is opposed to conflict and is trying to create peace throughout the world, so therefore it leads to Doomfist and Overwatch definitely being at odds with each other.  You add to the fact that it was Winston who put Doomfist behind bars for many, many years, and Doomfist’s hatred of Overwatch is at an all-time high.  Now that Doomfist is free, he plans to use Talon to implement his worldview on the rest of - not only Talon - but the rest of mankind altogether.  So the story’s gonna get very interesting, now that Doomfist is in the mix.  I think it’s gonna be awesome that we learn more about Talon through Doomfist and his interactions with heroes like Widowmaker and Reaper.”

Think about it like this:

Things Gabriel Reyes/Reaper knows roughly about the time of Recall:

Winston has been hanging out in Gibraltar being listless for awhile.

The Talon leadership has approved the assassination of Mondatta.

The Talon leadership is starting to make moves to put their plan towards global war into action.

Gabriel Reyes actually fought to prevent the First Omnic Crisis from resulting in the outright destruction of humanity.

Doomfist and Winston hate each other on a very personal level.

Doomfist hates Overwatch on a very personal level.

Winston is the main Overwatch agent to have stopped Doomfist in the past.

It took creating Overwatch to stop the First Omnic Crisis.

It might take recreating Overwatch to stop the Second.

Everything Reaper has done from Recall onwards (Old Soldiers, the Museum Heist, Infiltration) has arguably been “sloppy” to the point of being “suspicious.”  If this hypothesis is true, he has managed to maintain some levels of plausible deniability - and more importantly, we should keep in mind that the only characters who canonically know Gabriel Reyes is Reaper are Soldier: 76 (Jack Morrison), the Shrike (Ana Amari), and Sombra.

[Implications]: Reaper is downplaying his true abilities to undermine Talon missions and weaken the Talon leadership’s unity and stronghold.

Once again, it seems like releasing Doomfist could be a great rallying force for the Talon leadership...except that now Winston and Tracer are putting the band back together on the other side of the Mediterranean.  And oops, no one has managed to capture Soldier: 76 or the Shrike yet, so those two are still loose.  And oops again, no one has managed to kill Katya Volskaya.

And oops again, new “heroes” like Lúcio and D.Va are starting to inspire people to believe in hope again.

And oops x10, releasing Doomfist caused child genius Efi Oladele to make a brand new, anti-Doomfist hero in Numbani - Orisa.

These are a lot of “pressures” Talon has to now face in their efforts to fan the flames of war.

And everyone knows that when you put more weight on things, you can eventually stress them to the point of cracking.

And then breaking.

If the Talon leadership is as disjointed as Jeff implies, and coups occur as frequently as Doomfist’s backstory implies, Talon is beginning to flounder.  It seemingly had the run of the world in the wake of the Fall of Overwatch, but in the Post-Recall world, things are starting to get more complicated.  The Second Omnic Crisis is not spreading - it is stagnating in Russia.  Riots in London have not necessarily resulted in the return of Null Sector.  The ex-Strike-Commander of Overwatch is still alive (and the ex-Strike-Lieutenant is too, although it is not known how many people within Talon are aware of this).

[Factual Lore]: Sombra:

“I’ll find out who really runs the world.  I’ll find their weaknesses, and how to exploit them.  And when I do - I’ll be the one pulling the strings.”

It is not entirely clear if Sombra is blackmailing Reaper into helping her.  As Chu has stated, Sombra is one of three characters to know his true identity, and their in-game interactions certainly imply that they have an a tenuous alliance, with her teasing him about a personal nickname.

Sombra: What's the plan today, Gabe? You don't mind if I call you Gabe, do you?

Reaper: Stick to the mission.

But their other interactions also show a cautious trust with one another:

Sombra on Oasis: So what are we doing here, boss?

Reaper: I need to pay a visit to a friend.

---

Reaper: Try to stick to the plan, Sombra.

Sombra: Look, someone has to be ready when all your careful planning doesn't pan out.

[Implications]: The last set of lines implies that - not only does Sombra know who Reaper really is - she also knows his personality.  While Reaper plays the part of a seemingly arrogant Talon mercenary, Sombra is aware that underneath the mask, Gabriel Reyes is still a skilled tactician and careful planner.  It is also implied that she is aware that these skills did not prevent Overwatch and Blackwatch from collapsing, and must consider making countermeasures in the event they “fail” again.

More importantly, the last set of lines imply that the two of them are collaborating on something - “a plan.”

What kind of plan?

It’s not clear, unfortunately, but it certainly is tantalizing to speculate over.  Just hours ago, Michael Chu responded to a set of tweets asking if Reaper is part of the Talon leadership or if he is “just a nerd working for Talon.”

Chu’s wonderful response?

I’m desperately waiting to see what kind of interactions Reaper and Sombra will have with Doomfist, but we know there are at least two datamined lines:

Reaper: Why can’t Doomfist do his own dirty work?

Reaper: what kinda name is Doomfist anyways?

Now, these lines might not make the cut.  They’re pretty old and a lot of the story has been reworked since the game was released a year ago.  Reaper in particular has undergone a number of big story shifts.  What is interesting are the two potential hypotheses for this:

Reaper is working to undermine Talon to destroy it from the inside.

Reaper is working to undermine Talon’s leadership to orchestrate a coup.

Sombra’s goals seem to fall in-line with the latter moreso than the former, and I’m inclined to believe that Reaper - whether he’s being blackmailed or not - is also aiming for that.  But in order to orchestrate a coup from the inside, you have to be willing to push boundaries and shake things up.  Releasing Doomfist is an ideal trigger for that because:

Helix may attempt to reclaim him, and possibly send out the Raptora Squad (Pharah’s group) to arrest him.  This leaves the Temple of Anubis unguarded - and Sombra wants to get access to that.

The pro-Volskaya Omnic faction in Numbani might slip up, resulting in another information leak that Sombra can exploit.

Doomfist is being pushed into a fight with Winston and/or Orisa, resulting in the Talon leadership either losing their rally point (Doomfist) or losing yet another “big mission.”

There is no situation where Sombra (and possibly Reaper) actually lose because - assuming they want to see Doomfist and the Talon leadership fail - every possible situation works out in their favor.  They either gain information, or Doomfist is re-arrested, or the Talon leadership splinters and cracks.  None of this actually outright harms Sombra or Reaper.

And all of this is because Reaper keeps “failing” his missions.

As Jeff said -

The story is going to get very interesting.

#team talon #reaper #gabriel reyes #sombra #doomfist #akande ogundimu #overwatch #my essays #overwatch lore #overwatch speculation #I am so excited you guys have no idea