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eponymiad · 3 years

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Rating: T Word Count: 4450

The first time Sophos asked the mountain queen to dance, it was his last night in Eddis. For formality’s sake, Eddis would not have declined, but it had taken him most of the night to work up the nerve.

Punctilious in her hospitality, Eddis had arranged a banquet in their honor. His uncle who was Sounis had finally negotiated their release, though Sophos wouldn’t exactly have called it a harrowing hostage situation. The magus, ever a teacher, had made their captivity instructive, and the Eddisian court had been exceptionally kind, if a bit distant.

Grasping for conversation as they danced, Sophos said, “I visited the god of thieves’ altar today. Those emeralds were even more impressive than you made them out to be.”

Eddis laughed, then pressed her lips together. “You can see why the duchess was livid,” she whispered, sounding amused and a little conspiratorial.

“Indeed. I’m surprised Gen made it out alive.”

Her grin faltered, and Sophos worried he had inadvertently insulted her or her court. The lowlanders often painted the Eddisians barbaric, but Sophos had not meant his joke literally. Before he could fumble an apology, however, Eddis’s easy smile returned.

She said, “Oh, Gen prevailed, he always does. Are you glad to be returning to Sounis?”

Sophos blushed. “I have enjoyed my time in Eddis.” He had grown immensely fond of Eddis — both queen and country.

The queen of Eddis was exceedingly kind. Sophos knew that another sovereign would not have been so welcoming of their prisoners. His uncle certainly would not have, and that Attolia had held them in a cell in her stronghold just weeks earlier was proof enough that she, too, thought prisoners belonged in a prison.

Eddis smiled, and Sophos blushed harder as he returned it. He was acutely aware of where his hand rested on her waist, grateful the dance was one he knew well. He thought his nerves might fail him.

“You must be excited to see your sisters again. From everything you’ve told me of them, they sound much like my more…rambunctious cousins.”

“They are troublemakers, if that’s what you mean. I am sure to find my hair filled with twigs and leaves by suppertime the day I return.” Sophos laughed. “I cannot wait to see them.”

Home also meant seeing his father, and explaining what had happened to Pol. The magus was sure to have sent word by now, but Sophos was dreading having to answer questions. The guilt was nearly too much to bear as it was.

Eddis seemed to guess what he was thinking. “I am sorry about your guard captain,” she said carefully.

“I will miss him very much. And I do not…look forward to having to explain what happened to him.”

“I cannot believe your father could blame you for this, Sophos,” she said, even more gently, guessing again at his thoughts.

“I see you have not met my father, your majesty,” he said wryly.

She smiled again, an intoxicatingly slow-spreading one that filled her entire face. “I have, actually.”

“Oh.” He was at a loss for what to say. It was not only his grief over Pol and Ambiades, still fresh and raw, but the concentrated power of her smile that rendered him temporarily speechless. The Queen of Eddis was perhaps the loveliest person he had ever met, and he’d discovered that her more brilliant smiles made it difficult for him to speak. A particular disappointment, as he was eager to talk to her as much as possible.

Sparing him from scrambling for intelligent thought, Eddis changed the subject.

“I hope we will have you back as a guest soon. I expect we will have a ceremony in the fall.”

“For your wedding?” Now that she had no cause to marry his uncle, Sophos had been wondering when she and Gen would marry.

She laughed. “No, I suspect we will have one more ceremony to honor Hamiathes’s gift, and we will of course invite our neighbors to attend.”

Sophos wondered if he might persuade his uncle who was Sounis to bring him. He repressed a shudder at the thought of prolonged interaction with his uncle, but perhaps the magus would make a case for it on Sophos’s behalf.

“I will hope to attend, then, and look forward to returning.” The music ended, and Sophos bowed. “Thank you for the dance, your majesty.”

She returned his smile, inclining her head briefly before turning to her next partner. Sophos returned to his seat, feeling light as air.

Sophos hadn’t realized he’d grown until he was standing in front of Helen, asking her to dance. He found he had to tilt his head now to look her in the eye.

As they danced, they chatted, but Sophos could tell she was weary behind the smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“How have you fared today?” he asked.

“Very well. It was an important ceremony and I am glad to have the company of our neighbors and allies from further away to share it with. Did you enjoy the day?” Her formulaic response left Sophos unconvinced. An expert himself in court niceties, Sophos knew they were easy to wield when more natural conversation was stilted.

He pressed again, as gently as possible. “I did, thank you. But I imagine it must have been a long day for you, especially.”

She hesitated, before letting out a quiet sigh. “Yes,” she said, conceding the point. Her face relaxed at the admission. “I am rather exhausted.”

He sympathized. “I find large events like this particularly draining myself, and I am not anyone nearly as important.”

“I think heir to the throne merits ‘nearly as important,’ Sophos. But yes, they are draining. Frankly…”

He waited, hoping she would speak, but she gave a small shake of her head as if letting the thought pass. He ventured a guess. “A lot of self-important, overly-dressed people?”

Helen’s mouth opened in surprise before she let out a laugh. “That is an…apt description.”

In the short time he had known her, Sophos had begun to suspect the queen of Eddis cared as little for frivolous courtiers as he did. He was delighted, both to have his suspicions confirmed and to have teased the admission out of her.

“Just a gaggle of masks,” he said.

She looked up at him, confused. “A gaggle of what?”

“Masks, from the story of the fox and the mask?” he said, but she shook her head. “Surely you know Aesop?”

“Of course I know Aesop, but I do not think I have heard that one. The only story I know about foxes is the fox and sour grapes. Tell me about the mask?”

Smirking, he told her, “The fox stumbles across a beautiful mask, wrought from gold and inlaid with stones, perfectly molded for a mortal face. Contemplating it, he says, ‘so full of beauty, so empty of brains!’”

“Oh!” She snorted, and slipped into a round of silent giggles. Sophos was unreasonably pleased to have made her laugh.

“Perhaps that one is popular in Sounis because of the invaders?” he said, wondering aloud. The Merchant Empire had been fond of their ornate masks, which were worn by okloi and patronoi alike during the festival months. “I did not realize there might be more stories. I wonder if I know all the Eddisian ones. What are some of your favorites?”

She thought for a moment. “The Astrologer Who Fell into a Well and The Boy and His Nettles are two that spring to mind.”

“Oh, I know the nettles. I have been made to remember that one often by my mother,” he said wryly.

Smiling, she said, “But not the astrologer?”

That one did not know, but the the music came to an end, and it was time for the queen to move on to her next partner. Sophos did not stop to think before he said, “Permit me one more dance and you can tell it to me?”

Helen smiled the smile that Sophos was rapidly discovering buoyed his soul. “Very well,” she said, as Sophos, beaming, led them into the steps for the next dance. “There was a stargazer who spent evenings with his face upturned to the stars, oblivious to all else — the way I’ve seen you do with a book,” she added. Sophos blushed and nodded in agreement. “One night, as he walked through a field, looking up, he fell in a well.” Sophos cringed. “His neighbor came running at the shouts and, seeing the astrologer said, ‘Now you see what happens when you worry over the skies instead of that which is right in front of you.’”

Sophos raised his eyebrows. “Is this an instructive tale about how I should worry less for the magus’s lessons on temple architecture, and more about hunting and sword fighting so that I might be a suitable heir?”

“No!” With the hand already holding his shoulder, she slapped his arm gently. “More a reminder to myself.”

The queen, as far as Sophos knew, did not have a particular interest in the sciences or any other academic subject.

“A reminder of what?”

“Not to make myself sick worrying about the plans of the gods and instead focus on the things I can control.”

Sophos was not religious, did not believe in gods or myths. Despite what Gen had told them as they had camped in the mountain country a few months earlier, the Eddisians were much more religious than Sounisians. That much, at least, had become clear during his two trips. Foreign rulers and emissaries might have attended for the formality of the ceremony, but Sophos had heard the way the Eddisians spoke of Hamiathes’s gift — Gen and Helen had certainly believed in its sanctity. But still, he could see the wisdom in her words.

“Ah. My cautionary tale is A Man with Two Sweethearts, though I rarely heed my own reminders,” he admitted. When her eyebrows shot up her head, he laughed and fumbled as he said, “The lesson is, those who seek to please everybody please nobody.”

“I’d never heard that one either, though the lesson itself is a good one. It might carry a different message to my Eddisians though,” she said cryptically. Changing the subject, she said, “I did not realize there were so many more fables.”

Sophos did not hesitate, did not even draw a breath before saying, “I have a large book of them that was given to me when I was learning to read. I could recopy some of my favorites and send them to you when I return to Sounis, if you’d like.”

“That would be lovely.”

And there it was, the chance he had been waiting for. Sophos had spent his faux-captivity over the summer in Eddis, and this much shorter trip, frantically searching for an opening to write to Helen. He had grown increasingly dismayed as the day wore on that he might not find a good reason. The excitement and nerves pounded against his rib cage in equal measure as they moved through the last steps and the song came to an end.

“Thank you for the dance.” Sophos bowed, knowing it would do little to cover up the blush spreading across his cheeks as he willed his mind away from the rapidly unfolding fantasy that she might respond to his letter, that they might strike up a real friendship, that that might… “It is always a privilege to to spend time in your company.”

She returned his smile with one of her own, the slow-spreading one that was, Sophos was certain, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. It made his heart sing.

“I will look forward to the Aesop stories.”

“I will get working on them as soon as I arrive home,” he promised.

They had danced nearly every night that he was in Attolia.

They were both a little clumsy in their dancing, both in different ways. Helen was stiff, her soldier’s march no less pronounced in the fluid steps of a dance. Sophos, for his part, had grown taller since regular balls in Sounis, and found it hard to adjust to the length of his gait. But as the days wore on, punctuated by walks in the gardens and, if he was lucky, meals together, they had found their rhythm. By now they moved almost as one.

Sophos had felt something shift, in the way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the way she moved her body in time with his. He may be cow-eyed, but he wasn’t oblivious. As he fspun out further and further, head sick with plans and worries about retaking his country, the sole thought buoying his hopes was that he might come back not to a political marriage but —

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Helen teased, smiling up at him. She smiled at him often, and it still caught him off guard, left him feeling both completely off kilter and as if everything was right in the world. His heart swelled.

“How very lucky I am that you dance with me.”

“Plenty of women dance with you.”

“But none nearly as beautiful as you.”

She flushed then, cheeks darkening, mouth half-open in surprise. “Flatterer,” she said when she recovered.

“Not at all. I am incapable of lying, as Gen has made sure to remind me several times a day.” She shook her head, still smiling. He asked, “Are you looking forward to returning home to Eddis?” He led her into a spin.

She spun back. “Immensely,” she admitted wearily. “I miss my mountains.”

Sophos did not fail to notice that as she had landed back into his arms, her body was a little closer than it had been. Sophos slid his hand around, from her waist to her back, and pulled her even closer.

The music changed and he cursed his luck as he and Helen broke apart. That move had taken all his nerve, and he did not know if he would risk it again.

But the next song was different, and with the drum came the trill of a mountain pipe. Helen glanced over her shoulder at Gen, who was looking at his wife with such a fondness that it warmed Sophos’s heart. It was the first time Sophos had heard a traditional Eddisian tune since he had been in Attolia. He suspected they were avoided since both hands were needed, but the Attolias seemed to be getting into position to dance. Helen looked back at Sophos.

“You know the square dances?”

“Helen,” he said dryly. “I am good for very little, but I do at least know Eddisian court dances. Have a little more faith in me than that.”

She rolled her eyes. “If I had so little faith in you, I would be more worried for the future of our little peninsula.”

“Point taken,” he said, grimacing. As he moved into position, Sophos faltered — he realized that he had not danced the Eddisan dances in years. “We’ll have to see how we fare with the height difference.”

She laughed. “Everyone is taller than me. I barely come up to Boagus’s sternum. It will be fine.”

The dance required partners to grab each other’s hands and Sophos, seizing the opportunity, laced his fingers between hers. That the dance was easier when performed with clasped hands was of little importance to him at the moment.

When it was time for her to spin, Sophos released Helen’s hands as she spun away and back to him, fingers sliding back into his when she returned, the skirts of her dress following suit.

“This dance is the only time I prefer a dress to trousers,” she said.

“I don’t remember this dance being so fun,” Sophos said, just barely holding onto his breath as the music sped up for the next cycle.

“Have you ever danced it with an Eddisian before?” He hadn’t. “It takes practice for it to really flow.”

It was certainly more fun than any of the continental dances at the Sounisian balls, or even the more out-of-fashion dances brought to the peninsula by the last invaders. There was a thrill in the way the pace picked up, quickened your heartbeat and chased the air from your lungs as you stepped faster and faster with your partner, until the only things you could focus on were the tapping of your own feet and your partner’s body, mirroring yours as you tried desperately to keep the pace.

Their fingers unwound only for the last spin, Helen’s hands small in his as he gripped them tight. And as they spun together, Sophos so much larger than her that he thought he might lift her off the ground with his force, their eyes held one another’s. In that moment, Sophos was sure there was no one else in the room, in the palace, in Attolia, and maybe not even the world.

The music ended and they came to a halt, both of them breathless and bubbling with mirth. Pulling one hand from hers, Sophos gently pushed back a curl that had flipped free of her crown, tucking the short strand behind her ear. His hand lingered there, and Helen held his gaze. Sophos was acutely aware of how close they stood. Close enough, he thought, that if he bent down, he could kiss her.

He considered it, his mind running away as he imagined, for an instant, tilting her head up at his and kissing her here, in front of everyone, propriety and the whole court of Attolia be damned.

But he was not so reckless — though he might have been had they been in the gardens alone — and slowly he lowered his hand from her face, their other hands still clasped tight. Never once did she take her eyes off his.

And as he lay in the dark later that night, restless over his journey and the hard, perhaps fatal plan that lay before him, he thought of Helen, of the dance, and of the look she’d given him he had touched her face.

This was not his imagination, he was sure. There was something between them.

Thinking of her, he drifted to sleep.

“Is the dress all right?” Gen asked as he and Helen stepped together. His tone was light, but Helen knew her cousin too well. His hook lay at her waist, blade carefully turned away to spare her dress — or her — any harm.

“It’s perfect, thank you, Gen. And thank you for sparing me from whatever awful gown Aunt Livia would have inevitably chosen.” She would have complied, her worry over the future of her country and the imminent threat of her barons making it easier to say yes than to argue for her own self-interests. Instead, Gen had insisted on handling it. The resulting wedding dress was beautiful, both as simple as Helen preferred and cut with a neckline to show off her tattoos, making clear to those watching that she was still Eddis. She was overwhelmed, as always, for his careful consideration and fierce loyalty. “And the wedding has been lovely. You are the consummate host. Maybe you are better as a frivolous trophy husband, planning parties and selecting gowns,” she teased.

“I told you all, I make a much better figurehead than king. I also told you that I thought you would marry him,” Gen added, gloating, as the dance continued.

She rolled her eyes, but could not stop her smile. “Do you never tire of being right?”

“No.” He grinned at her, and she was glad for it. Eugenides had not smiled much these last few days, not since her barons had arrived and their cousins had begun complaining about his ascension to Annux in earnest.

The last notes of the song faded, replaced with sounds of drums and a single mountain pipe. Before she had time to consider whether she was willing to risk a one-handed dance with Gen, her husband appeared at her side, tugging her by the hands into an empty space with him.

She and Sophos finished the dance with the last spin, as breathless as ever after a square dance, and the music master paused before the next song to allow people to compose themselves. Sophos grinned down at her. She reached up to touch his face, his head ducked to bring it closer to her.

“You look so handsome today.”

She watched his cheeks, already flushed from dancing, turn redder still, the color blooming dark across his face. His blushes were always easy, but he had glowed like the fires of the sacred mountain today, the joy radiating off of him mirroring the feeling threatening to burst out of her own chest.

Helen thought of the first time she’d danced a square dance with him. While he had been in Attolia, she had been so wracked with worry and guilt, over saving her country and manipulating Sophos, that she had not even noticed herself falling in love with him.

But, the night before he had returned to Sounis, they had danced one last time, and she had felt it then. Their bodies had drawn closer and closer like magnets as they’d danced, and when he had held her face, she’d been struck with the thought that she really might like to kiss him.

In hindsight, it was obvious that she was in love with him. But at the time, she had written it off as a reaction to the dancing. That happened sometimes with dance partners, the magic of the music and the movement of bodies against one another sparking a flame that flickered and died with the end of the song.

Well, she thought, as the flame inside her grew brighter and brighter, so much for that.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“How very much I’d like to kiss you.”

He blushed more still, suddenly endearingly shy. “You could.”

They had kissed plenty by now. It had taken ten days from their engagement to assemble their barons in Attolia for the wedding. Sophos had not once slept in his own bed.

“Not when you’re all the way up there, I can’t.”

He stooped low so she could pull him close, and she kissed him, quick and sweet.

Sophos rested his forehead against hers and murmured, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kissed her forehead and took one hand in his, his other resting lightly on her back. The music had picked up again, and they began the slower steps for one of the Continental dances.

Helen wiped the sweat from her brow. The fall had not yet arrived in Attolia, and it was hot in the packed courtyard. That her dress was stifling did not help. Gen had been careful in his selection, but there was only so plain wedding clothes could be. It might have been fine had they had the wedding in Eddis, but the layers were oppressive in the lowlands.

Fussing with the heavy cloth of her dress, she said, “I cannot wait to get out of this godsforsaken gown.”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

She bit back her grin. “I meant because of the heat.”

“I didn’t,” he said, boyish grin consuming his face. She pressed her own face into his chest briefly to hide her blush.

They were both quiet for several moments. When she looked back up at his face, she could see worry lines on his forehead.

“What’s worrying you?” she asked.

“It’s nothing.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. Sighing, he said, “It seems your barons have been putting ideas in my barons’ heads.”

She closed her eyes briefly in frustration. “The bastards never miss an opportunity for drama,” she said, freely swearing away from prying ears. “I am sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You did warn me they were contentious.”

“You do not know the half of it,” she said, thinking of the bloody and nearly-bloody history she had not yet revealed to him. She would have to tell him soon, of her failure to keep her barons in line, and of how their trip to steal Hamiathes’s gift had saved Gen more than it had saved her.

His frown lines deepened and he glanced around. “A conversation for later?”

“For later,” she agreed. Shaking her head, she said, “But there is not much to be done about them, except make sure they stay in line. It’s the epitome of The Lion, the Flies and the Hedgehog.”

“The what?” He looked bewildered.

“The Aesop story. It was one of the ones you sent me! The evil you know is better than the evil you don’t?”

“Oh,” he said, face and voice tinged with wonder. “You remember that?”

She smiled. “Of course I remember. I loved those stories. I hadn’t heard most of them.”

Helen was sure no one had ever looked at her with as much fondness as Sophos was in that very moment.

“I can’t believe you remember those. I was so nervous sending that letter. I had looked high and low for an excuse to write you. When you said you hadn’t heard some of them, I clung to it desperately.”

“I am glad you did.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am,” he said, beaming. “It feels like many lifetimes ago now.”

“Indeed.”

Not even in the beginning of her reign had Helen dared to hope for anything more than a peaceful political marriage. And later, when she had made her peace with marrying Sophos’s uncle, she had lost hope for even that. Her singular focus was saving her country; her wants and needs inevitably fell to the wayside. Such was the burden of being queen.

Then Sophos had reappeared, like something straight out of the Eponymiad, and beneath all the relief and fear and guilt that had twisted together inside her, Helen had felt the first glimmers of hope igniting, that her marriage might be something more than just tolerable. She would at least be marrying her friend, she had thought. Followed immediately by the crashing waves of dread that her manipulation of him to save Eddis would be the end of that too. It had kept her up at night.

But her imagination had not been big enough for the end result: a husband she loved as she loved Sophos. Even now, on her wedding day, it felt surreal that she could be so lucky.

Sophos smiled down at her. “Are you happy?”

“Beyond my wildest dreams.”

Sophos blushed bright red. Swaying in his arms, Helen relaxed.

Crossposted on AO3 here!

#queen's thief #the queen's thief #megan whalen turner #RotT spoilers #rott #I just REALLY love them okay?#and I wanted Sophos/Helen dancing scenes so I gave them to myself #my fic

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outshinethestars · 3 years

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The Sky is Dark and Filled with Ink (from all the words that time forgot) Hetalia fic

The air is dead, you think.

You take a breath, and it catches in your throat, stagnant, dull. There is no brightness to this day, no freshness to the breeze. The air is dead.

Or maybe it’s just you.

There are birds chirping outside your window, so you get up. You get dressed. The birds are still chirping.

“Hello birds!” you say, and you smile. You make yourself smile and you make yourself call out cheerfully to the birds, even though the birds are the only ones who can hear. Because it is a new day and you are Prussia, and you are still here. You want to live, you do.

Maybe that’s the problem.

You are feeling nostalgic today, so you go to where your diaries are kept, in long long neat rows.

Your life looks so very long, lined with words.

You walk to the very end, find your very first diary, because you are feeling nostalgic.

The book you take from the shelf is not the one you wrote centuries ago, your sloppy, childish hand smearing ink across worn vellum, already overwritten almost to the point of unusability. It is a copy of a copy of a copy, printed plainly on reasonably high quality modern paper. You had most of your diaries printed, not so very long ago, in plain, unpersonable bindings. You would have preferred to have copied them in your own hand, familiar, beautiful letters in solid black ink, your heart held between pages. But there was so much that needed recopying, doing it by hand would be impractical.

You might not have enough time.

You could copy this first diary by memory, you have read these words so many times. You read about healing and triumph and dreams of crusading, and you try to recapture a glimpse of it, that wide eyed innocence.

You were so very, very young once.

Your life is sketched out in ink, and you know much of it by heart, returning and returning to tell yourself the story of who you are, to remind yourself of triumphs.

Of course, you never wrote about the bad things. There is so much you never wrote.

There is a theory, you heard once, that photographs are bad for memory. Photos, in their two dimensional stillness, are lies, crystalized to immortality. You remember the pictures, sharp and exact in a way memories never can be, and forget events, sounds, smells, worlds in all their complexity. You create narratives around the photos in your albums, as the true knowledge of what was fades.

Your diaries contain all that you are. There is so much lost between their pages.

You do not write your diary now. You have not written it in years. You have nothing to write.

No, you could write. Your head is swarming with thoughts, more so than it has since you were small.

But your diary has always been about events, triumphs, not thoughts. Your diaries you keep secret, yes, and they are full, in their way, of your hopes and dreams, they are the world seen through your eyes and that is a very private thing. But your thoughts, your ponderings, your fears and theories, you keep safely locked inside your head. You do not let them out into the harsh light of objective reality, to become things outside yourself that exist. You keep them safe, hidden, to grow as you grow, to change as you change.

To be forgotten.

There are other things you could write. You used to write in your diary sometimes, of all the things that happened around you, but that turned quickly into a diary that was all about Germany. That is not what a diary is meant to be.

You could write. It is not as though you have stopped living, stopped doing. You could recount internet victories, or less than well thought out adventures with France and Spain. It is not that such things are too small, too trivial. You used to write about all the small things, once. A century ago, half a century, you would have happily recounted the mild disaster of you and a very drunk France in Brussels. But now it feels like too much effort. You are so very, very tired these days. Even your pen does not obey you sometimes.

Diaries are books you write for yourself for memory.

(And you know that a century from now you will not be here to read of lighthearted victories in the dark times.)

You close your diary and put it back on the shelf. You have a coffee date with Hungary. You are never late.

“How are you, Prussia?” Hungary asks, and there’s more weight to it than simple smalltalk, but you disregard that. You give her one of your best smiles.

“I’m awesome!” you say, “How’s marital bliss?”

It’s an evasion, but she allows it.

“You know we haven’t been married for over a century,” she says, and you roll your eyes.

“How’s life in sin, then?” you say. She laughs.

“Sexy,” she says, and you look appropriately disgusted.

Being with Hungary is something like home. She has known you longer than anyone you know, known you since you were children, and she has always been good with people in a way you were always a little in awe of. She sees straight through all of your facades, past all the parts of yourself you keep hidden, to the things even you never look at too closely.

And in return, you like to flatter yourself in thinking you understand her better than anyone else, are the first to be let in on her secrets, are the one for whom she has no need for disguises. You think, now, that that is not quite the truth these days. Austria and Hungary have finally straightened out their relationship, so that they not only love each other, but also know each other, deeply and honestly in a way you cannot touch. You find that you do not begrudge them this.

You say something that brushes at the edges of that effect, as your conversation wanders from personal lives in modern times to old battles and back again.

“What?” Hungary says, “You don’t want Austria’s every moment to be torment and suffering? Who are you, and what have you done with Prussia?”

And because it is Hungary, you could tell her that you no longer care so much for rivalry with Austria, that you are quite content to be, if not friends with him, then at least friendly adversaries, and that regardless of anything else, you want nothing more than her happiness. Because it is Hungary, you could say all this without feeling as though you were flaying yourself open, to reveal your own beating heart to her. Or at least, you would be willing to do so, and entrust her with your heart. But because it is Hungary, she already knows, and you have no need to say it.

“Oh well,” you say, “I guess I’ve mellowed in my old age.”

Hungary looks at you, and it does feel as if you are being flayed. Hungary looks at you, and she bites her lip, and the expression in her eyes is grief.

And oh, that was the wrong thing to say, because there are still things you hide even from her, aren’t there.

Age is a strange thing, when it comes to Nations. You live with Germany, who is still so young, at least in your eyes, that it hurts you, and you are friends with America and children on social media, and you spend your afternoons in the park with old people who are a tenth your age or less. But you aren’t old, not really. Hungary is older than you are, and so are France and Spain. But then, they aren’t old yet, because they aren’t dying.

But perhaps even Hungary is not always brave, because she doesn’t pursue it, she does not ask, she hides all traces of her concern, sweeps her train of thought aside.

“Wouldn’t that be a miracle,” she says, and you grin, crooked and devilish (alive, for now).

The conversation wanders on from there, but at the end of it, as you stand to leave, she holds your hand and says, “You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“Of course,” you say, wondering what she thought you were doing for the past two hours.

“About anything, ” she insists, “And if you ever need me, please call. I’ll be there. I’ll make time, I promise.”

And you… You don’t cry, because you don’t cry. Crying is not a thing that you do.

“Thank you,” you say, and your voice is small.

And then she hugs you.

You don’t know the last time someone hugged you.

Or well, you probably do, it was right before that thing in Brussels. You don’t remember most of that night too well, but France is an emotional drunk, and you’re pretty sure that most of the fiasco that followed resulted from drunk-you’s attempt to escape emotional vulnerability.

In any case, this is the first time you’ve been hugged sober in a very long time. And Hungary gives the best hugs.

Her strong arms wrap around you and she is warm and soft and kind in a way you have never known how to be. Your ribs are pressed tight against her, and you know that she can feel every single one of them through your clothes, and for a moment you are certain that you will turn to dust right there in her arms.

“Thank you, really,” you say, when she releases you. And she gives you a sad little smile that tells you that she knows you won’t take her up on it, but that she meant every word all the same.

When you are home, you take down your most recent diary, the one with three quarters of the pages still left blank, and write. It hurts more than anything you have ever written, and not only because even your hands betray you these days.

“Dear Diary,” you write.

“Hungary hugged me today. It was an awesome hug. We talked for hours, and I said everything and nothing at the same time, and I think she knows that I am dying, really dying now. She held me tight enough, I think, that we could feel each other’s heartbeats, like she was trying to hold on to me forever. I’m sorry. There is so much that I never say. I don’t want to die.

Germany, if you’re reading this, know that I love you so much. There aren’t words for how much. Tell all my friends I love them too."

#aph prussia #aph hungary #fic and fic-like things #my stuff #All I really want is for Prussia to get hugs and tell people he loves them #unfortunately the only way i can make that happen is by killing him :(

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dk-wants-to-rp · 5 years

Text

Flint and Steel

This was requested by @ask-villegas-sides

PLOT: reese and beckett are known as the weasley twins of the mindscape, but when one of their antics goes too far one day, flint ducks out and they realize their mistake and have to make things right.

WARNINGS: Arson, Fire, Breakdown, Yelling.

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

"This was Going to be the most epic prank yet!" well at least thats what Reese told themselves.

"are you sure this isnt a bit much?" Beckett asked bottle of lighter fluid in hand.

"it will be fine. its not like were actually gonna burn it all! just pretend!" Reese said a pile of schedules, books, lists, and other files they had gathered from flints room in there arms.

The two pranksters had moved all of the furniture from the main living space of the mind scape to the side so they wouldnt hurt anything else in the room. reese checked the time and piled the many binders, books, and folders into the middle of the room.

"ok flint will be back any second from helping Riley." reese said as beckett dowsed the pile in lighter fluid.

"your sure these are the fake ones?" beckett asked pulling out the match box.

reese didnt repond as he was looking at the clock. "reese?"

"huh? oh yeah yeah they're fake. stop worrying so much! this is gonna be hilarious!" reese exclaimed.

becket nodded. lighting a match as the clock reached 2:30 and tossing it to the pile in the middle of the floor and they waited. they snickered and giggled. as they heard flint moving arouns frantically in their room looking for the missing supplies.

soon footsteps were heard and flint came walking down the hall. "okay what have you done with MY STUFF!!" flint stepped back away from the barely controlled fire that was burning the now barely recognisable years of facts, books and planning. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!??" flint screamed his hands tugging at his hair his eyes not moving from the flames.

reese snorted. "it uh..got chilly" he said laughing. beckett was now chuckling at flint whos anger had turned into total defeat.

"thats...this is...the dumbest solution to an issue so...minuscule.." flints arms fell to his sides as tears brimmed his eyes. sure he had some recent copies of schedules saved but...that was memories. he wasnt very sentimental usually but the things he did hold onto were solutions and schedules and learning material where he was helpful..he was important when he made those things.

"Oh calm down you nerd! its not real! god you should have seen the look on your face!" reese weezed as he laughed.

Flints gaze bounced to reese then to the giggling beckett who was safely putting out the flames.

"see look!" reese said pulling up a binder of the once hidden pile of flints stuff. "its all here-" reese opened the binder to find it blank.

......they burned the wrong pile.

Beckett was frozen. internal panic ran through him as he realised there mistake.

"well most of that wasnt important anyway! i mean you can just redue anythinh that we need right now" reese said

But by the time he finished his sentence flint was already slamming the door to his room.

"uhh...reese..is he gonna be ok?" beckett asked.

"yeah he will get over it" reese said. "we should clean up before lev finds out though"

beckett nodded and the boys cleaned up.

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

Lev had no idea of the previous prank that had ocurred but while he was folding some laundry he felt a sudden drop in his stomach.

something wasnt right here..

he quickly headed out of his room and down the hall.

Beckett sat on the couch looking at his phone in distress and confusion. he had previously been reading a lengthy Tumblr post but now he couldnt seem to be able to comprehend what any of the words said. he could read them but couldnt retain any knowledge or memory from them.

"um beckett kiddo?" lev started looking around.

"yeah lev?" he responded

"something isnt..right..wheres reese and flint?" he asked.

"they are in their rooms." beckett said.

"....their...rooms..." lev repeated as he tried to recall what that meant. when did understanding things become so hard?

In this moment lev and beckett felt very stupid as they both looked at the world with confusion and lack of understanding.

"I bet flint would know.." beckett mummbled to himself.

This triggered something in levs brain and he made his way upstairs.

Yes, flint will know what's going on he said approaching the dulling door. they had seen this before...but where? what did that mean?

Flint will know. was the last triggering thought as lev opened the door and stepped inside. he was flooded with understanding at that moment.

lev quickly glanced around the fading room. Flint ducked out? but why?!

"flint??!" lev called as he stepped into the crumbling room. oh how he hoped he wasnt too late.

after a few moments flint appeared.

"what is it you need lev?" he asked voice dull and arms crossed.

"flint kiddo..what happened?" he asked

"....i dont know what you mean?"

"flint. now i know im not the harpested pencil in the pouch but i know you were trying tp duck out! what made you wanna do that?" lev asked his voice soft and caring

"that is n-none of your concern" flint responded his voice cracking.

"well of course it is!"

"Get out Lev!!" Flint screamed

"oh umm...ok kiddo" lev said sinking out of the room and appeared in the livingroom

Reese was now in the livingroom with Beckett.

"guys. i dont think flints doing so well...hes trying to duck out! we have to come up with a solution quick before we cant understand anything!" lev exclaimed

reese tensed up and beckett paniced.

"oh no! Rileys never gonna be able to think straight again! its all our fault!" he said tears pricking his eyes.

"well well! um what if we...appologise?! really show him were sorry! like like umm. ill go into long term memory and recopy all of the lost documents!" reese said quickly.

"what documents?" lev asked.

"no time!" beckett said as him and reese quickly dropped down appearing in Flints room. Flint jumped at the sudden company.

"Flint! im really really sorry! please dont duck out! if you duck out then rileys gonna die!" beckett exclaimed to the startled flint.

"uhhh yeah. me too" reese said looking at the panicing beckett.

"oh please..as if either of you actually care. you both lacked any intelligence in most of your previous actions anyway so you have no need for me." Flint said crossing his arms.

"no! no! ok umm..yeah yeah ok we were really really stupid...mainly beckett" reese started. "hey!" beckett shouted as reese continued. "but me to! and i will take full responsibility, though it was mainly beckett"

"not true!" beckett said.

"but i will go down to long term memory and personally replace every file beckett burned" reese said looking at flint with an expecting smile.

"you are insufferable! you expect me to want to come back and believe you have any remorse when you won't even take any blame!?" flint shoutrd as his room began to crack around them.

"Okay okay!! it was all my fault! I came up with the idea! i stole your stuff! I was the ome that stupidly burnt the wrong stuff! it was all me!....it was all me... just please dont leave flint. riley needs you...we all need you....I need you...please im sorry.." reese said deflating.

It was silent for a few moments but for reese and beckett it felt like years.

"....very well...i accept your apology." flint said. and with a blink of an eye his room was back to normal.

"oh thank you thank you!" reese shouted going to hug flint.

"dont touch me" he said.

"ah yeah sorry.." reese said looking away.

"I expect everything returned by next week" flint said.

"NEXT WE-!" reese started but was cut short by becketts glare. "i mean..yeah totally ill have it done."

"good...now get out of my room"

"totally" beckett said leaving reese just nodded and followed behind.

flint stared at the spots they sunk out from. he didnt know if they actually meant any of it.....but for now he would give them the benifit of the doubt..

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warmau · 7 years

Note

would it be okay for you to do a college au for lee daehwi please? ;3; your college au's are always so amazing and I love reading them!

major: psychology

clubs: book club, part of student government as treasurer

is that kind of student. the one who does their homework three days in advance, teachers are the ones emailing him about recommendations, tutors others in english, and still manages to look very handsome doing so

even though it’s only his first year in college,,,,,,like,,,,,,,,,How

daehwi claims he has a “system” but when people ask him what it is he just winks and is like ;) a magician never gives away his secret!~

(cheesy, but we love it)

he initially wanted to go into the literary department, but something about psychology really fits his personality. he kind of likes to over analyze and make predictions

which he claims is NOT the case

but his best friend somi was like “daehwi on our first day you literally introduced yourself to that kid daniel and went “from your handshake i can safely assume you’re in the emt field” and now daniel is convinced you can read minds.”

but daehwi is like please! that’s not over analyzing-

youngmin: you told me i had a complex about my hair after i told you my favorite color

daehwi:,,,,,,,,,,but youngmin it has to do with the fact that people who like green tend to-

somi: you’re doing it again

but daehwi,,,,,is just a sunflower,,,,,a positive hardworking boy who sometimes comes off a little demanding but he’s,,,,not he’s just trying to help

lots of people have already resorted to being mean about him because of their own jealousy but daehwi does his best to push it away,,,,even to the point where he always apologizes in class if he talks too much or seems like he’s looking for attention

and somi is always like don’t do that bro but daehwi,,,,as collected and cool as he looks walking through the campus with his psych textbook in hand and a cup of coffee in the other

daehwi is just as nervous and scared about being unliked like everyone else,,,,,

which is why you really like him

see if daehwi is the clean-cut, proper student then you’re the opposite,,,,the type to sit with your legs up on the desk, doodle on your homework, maybe not even show up

and you have psych 43 with him,,,,human emotion and,,,,the teacher is always droning on and on about the reading and the only person who ever talks is daehwi

who seems so damn bright in a class that is so damn boring

and you’ve heard the way people sneer under their breath when he brings up a point, the eye rolling, the ‘whats the point of taking this class if all we hear is that brat talking?’

but you’ve also seen daehwi grit his teeth, keep raising his hand, and completely strive to do the best even in a room full of negativity

and sure,,,,,you’re not the straight a, study in your free time kind of person daehwi is friends with but you like people that fight for themselves

and one day as daehwi is explaining something you hear someone make a joke calling him something rude and it’s annoying you so you suddenly stand up

causing daehwi to freeze mid-sentence and the teacher to raise an eyebrow

and you point to the person and you’re like “wanna say that louder, i heard your friend laugh and i want to laugh too.”

the teacher is motioning lazily for you to sit down,,,,but tbh it doesnt really look like he cares all that much and daehwi is like “it’s ok -”

but you’re like “c’mon say it. i wanna hear it. make me laugh.”

and the person looks terrified,,,,because you’ve never been known to take things with a grain of salt and you’re crossing your arms waiting

and the teacher is like “this isn’t high school, sit down-”

and you’re like “uhuh i will, but you-” you point at the person now cowering in their seat “ill see you after this lecture. i wanna hear that joke up close and personal.”

the teacher just mumbles for everyone to calm down and when you sit back you smirk to yourself knowing god damn well that person will bolt the minute class is over

but you also feel daehwi scoot over and he’s like “hey,,,,i don’t usually whisper in class but you shouldn’t fight anyone!!! college expel people for that-”

and ur like “don’t worry there’s not going to be a fight that coward wont wait for me anyway”

and you look to the side to see daehwi’s obviously concerned expression,,,,,,and ok what - why is he so freaking cute????

quickly you look back toward the front where the teacher is pointing to something haphazardly on the board

but you feel it,,,,,your heart beat,,,,,,your stomach doing flips,,,,,

and with one peek to the side you see it again,,,,,,,,,daehwi’s,,,,,,,,cute,,,,,,cute cute cute,,,,,face

as expected with class over you see the stampede of kids run out and the first person infront is that guy you called out

and you chuckle to yourself until you suddenly feel someone’s trembling hand on your shoulder

and you turn and daehwi is there,,,,,,that face of his flushed pink,,,,,and he’s like “i,,,,,know he was joking about me,,,,,,yo-you didn’t have to stand up for me-”

but you’re like “no, i did. daehwi you’re too good for most of the people here. for me especially, but also for those scumbags who try to make you feel bad about being smart. sometimes though, you need to say something so they’ll shut up.”

with that you sling your bag over your shoulder and you turn again to leave

but daehwi’s voice reaches you again and he’s like “im not,,,,,too good for anyone. but most of all,,,,im not too good for you.”

like for a moment you’re confused what does that mean-

but then you see daehwi rush over to stand in front of you and that pink flush has gone fULL on red

and he’s fiddling with his fingers but he’s also like !!!!! i,,,think you’re amazing and ,,,,, i wish you’d pay attention more in class because i can tell you’re very smart and i just,,,,,,,,l-like—-lik—–aPPRECIATE who you are,,,,,,a lot,,,,,,,,and-”

you feel a smile tug at your lips because,,,,oh,,,,is daehwi,,,,,trying to confess something?? but at the same time you’re like thank u,,,,for thinking im capable of more,,,,,,,,,but also,,,,,daehwi

and he’s shaking a bit with embarrassment but he’s like y-yes

and you step closer to push some hair from his eyes and you’re like “i like you too ^^ or appreciate if thats what you smart kids say.”

and daehwi is like RGOJFDLgiefd REALLY but also he’s like,,,,,,,,i m-meant it in a romanti-romantic way

and ur like yes i know baby

and he’s like baby???!??????? and ur like,,,,oops sorry ur just so cute i had the urge to call you that~~

and daehwi is like gijkl i knew u were straightforward,,,,and confident,,,,but ur also,,,,,,flirty,,,

and ur like hey hey don’t over analyze this rn mister and he’s like !!!! right!!!!!

but it’s cute because you never would have expected the sweet, dedicated student to fall for you,,,,,,,,,,(especially since ur pretty sure uve slept through ur class with daehwi like 10 times)

but apparently daehwi is fascinated and when you reach out to hold his hand u think he might be overheating but ur not 100% sure

college boyfriend!daehwi is,,,,,,amazing. mostly because he really likes sappy things even if he tries to hide it at first,,,,like he likes candles and flowers and romcoms,,,,,,tried to watch a horror movie with you but ended up curled in your lap asking if it was over,,,,,is too shy to come over to your dorm ever which is like so angelic and pure of him he’s always like we should meet up somewhere comfortable like a cafe!! ooo what about the library??? even better,,,,study hall?? like what a nerd but also what a sweet human being???, but he also has a fun side too sometimes daehwi will say something about someone that’s so blatantly savage but he thinks he’s being like observational and you have to put a hand over his mouth before you burst out laughing, makes handmade cards for every holiday, tries to recopy and organize your notes for you but you’re like letsssss cudddllllleee insteeeadd and for a good amount of time he can resist your charm but at some point he melts too, but you melt more than he does because daehwi is soooo good at being obliviously adorable that it hurts, when he’s concentrating and cutely making “aha!” sounds when he solve a problem to sleepily asking you to pet his head, isn’t big on pda but got super giddy over the idea of having matching phone cases, totally made you his phone wallpaper, his phone background, has a photo of you two on his nightstand, sometimes learns corny pick up lines from jisung but is too smart to actually try them out (unless he really wants your attention then you get a text thats like did it hurt when you fell from heaven and ur like ,,,,,,,,daehwi ??? do you have a cold??), refuses to admit he’s sick when he’s sick you have to practically drag him by the ear to the uni nurse, likes knowing you’re thinking of him especially when you two get a moment of alone time and you kiss him and mumble that you wanted to see him really badly and he still gets all shy and squirmy about it but on the inside he is DYING of HAPPINESS, thinks stuffed animals are cute so you guys got couple ones (you almost physically fought samuel when he said that was corny), stays up to study but still manages to have better hair than you and it drives you nuts like hOW, sent you a recording of him reading his notes from that class you have together and it was so smooth and nice you fell asleep to it LOL, wears soft cardigans that you always want to steal but daehwi is like we can just go buy you one?????, you hold daehwi’s face and tell him he deserves the world whenever someone says something dumb or he feels down, somi loves you guys and keeps telling everyone on campus that you and daehwi are set to marry soon, does this cute thing where when he has a surprise for you he can’t help but jump around and get all excited which lets u know he’s hiding something up his sleeve tBH he’s kinda easy to read, has an amazing singing voice that you didn’t know about until he actually wrote you a song for your birthday about how he loves you like a lot and you practically threw yourself into his arms and he laughed against your neck but seriously daehwi is so perfect you never understand how you got sOOOOO lucky (he says the same thing about you tho hehe)

find others here: ong seongwoo | kang daniel

#produce 101 scenarios #daehwi scenarios #daehwi au #daehwi imagines #daehwi #produce 101 season 2 #wanna-one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one au #sfw #produce 101 seaons 2 #wanna-one scenarios #again no idea what to tag

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zrtranscripts · 7 years

Text

Season 6, Mission 12: Our House

Live and let live

KYTAN: It's so great to see you, Five. And Doc Myers, and Tom! Hey, have you got Sam on comms, there? I brought my old headset for the occasion. [headset beeps] Abel runner, reporting for duty.

SAM YAO: Kytan! Wow, it's been months, man. After Ian, you and Cameo... I mean, you just disappeared in the night.

KYTAN: Yeah. We needed to get our heads together. We needed some healing. Neither of us had really been the same since Yang died. We read a lot, got into some pretty groovy stuff. Found a few things that worked, and Cam headed off on a spirit quest. And I'm helping people with the voices.

TOM DE LUCA: With the help of games consoles?

KYTAN: Yeah. Thanks for those. We cannibalize them for parts. They had those neural nets to control the VR, and they help us see what's going on with people. You said some of the people in the Abel alliance are having trouble with Moonchild, right? That's a really common one. We've got some people here with Moonchild Syndrome.

TOM DE LUCA: And you can help them?

KYTAN: Let me show you. Veronica's in the conservatory. Also, yeah, be quick about going through some of those doors. The ghost lady likes to shut them on people's hands.

SAM YAO: The ghost lady?

KYTAN: Yeah! She's fine as long as you keep moving. Come on, run!

VERONICA MCSHELL: Tom! Doctor Myers. Runner Five. Mr... Kytan?

KYTAN: Just Kytan, Veronica. Just Kytan. It's cool you're here looking for healing for your people. That's what we're all about. No judgment, just working to get better.

VERONICA MCSHELL: It's a very luxurious facility. Is it funded by the Minister?

KYTAN: Nothing like that. We just found the building, moved in. No one else wanted it because of the lady. We are non-partisan. You know, like that med swap place with the animals? Different people help us. Like, one settlement sent us a ton of bedding. You know that guy, Valmont? His chef sends us these healthy recipes every week. They're super specific. The ping-pong tables in here come from Eight of Hearts. People with Moonchild Syndrome come from all over.

MAXINE MYERS: And those drawings on the wall? Who sent those? They remind me of something Paula told me she saw in the neutral zone.

SAM YAO: Oh my God, I recognize those! You're right, they're just the same as those ones in the neutral zone. The same style of paintings of Moonchild, same swirls of lettering. [sighs] They're incredible, man. You know... someone's told me about what it's like to have Moonchild Syndrome. But those paintings really make me feel it. It's like I can hear her whispering when I look at them.

MAXINE MYERS: Yeah. If the painter's here, we'd love to meet them.

KYTAN: We shouldn't talk about this here, guys. Please, follow me now.

[door slams]

COMPUTER: Shut door. It should shut door.

KYTAN: Come on, lady, we're opening the door now. [door creaks open] She gets like that sometimes. Just hurry and follow me.

KYTAN: Okay, I can tell you now we're out of earshot.

MAXINE MYERS: What's going on?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Who was that lady?

KYTAN: The painter of those pictures is dead. I'm sorry, I think it's better to say those things quickly. Rip the plaster off. Sorry.

VERONICA MCSHELL: Did you need us to leave that room because his friends were there? I know that even a long time after death, it can still feel very hard. I still think about my dad a lot. I don't like it when people talk about him without warning me.

KYTAN: Yeah, kind of. One of the guards who held him prisoner is here.

SAM YAO: You've got one of Sigrid's guards there? Just mingling with the other people?

KYTAN: I don't hold them responsible. Sigrid made them do some pretty brutal things to the prisoners. She's really weird about people with Moonchild Syndrome. But yeah, we're all about living in peace. That's what we teach here: live in peace with each other. Live in peace with the voices. You don't have to answer the voices. You don't have to argue with them. They are what they are.

VERONICA MCSHELL: And what about the lady's voice? We did hear something, didn't we?

KYTAN: Yeah. For a lot of the people here, she's just another voice.

MAXINE MYERS: But what is she actually?

KYTAN: I mean, the lady's not really about what we do here -

[book falls]

COMPUTER: Check the identification.

MAXINE MYERS: Kytan, was it the lady who just made a large photo book of Xia-Hifa employee profiles fall from the bookshelf onto the floor?

KYTAN: Like I said, she's a ghost.

SAM YAO: Yeah, I'm beginning to have my doubts about that, Kytan, I have to be honest.

VERONICA MCSHELL: Where in the house do you hear her most often?

KYTAN: The revolving tower, but the door of it automatically locks for the day in five minutes.

MAXINE MYERS: Then I think we better run.

MAXINE MYERS: Wow, would you look at that! A rotating wooden tower, paneled on the inside, spiral stairs up the middle. Some manor house!

[panel door creaks open]

TOM DE LUCA: Look at this. Behind this wooden panel, there's a set of computer screens. A control system! It reminds me of – Jody mentioned to me that she'd been to a place like this, with panels like this. That house was destroyed, though. She went there with – [sighs] She went there with your father, Veronica. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -

VERONICA MCSHELL: Oh, yes. Jody told me about that. She played me some tapes they made when they were there. They solved a murder. Kytan, do you mind if I look at these panels?

KYTAN: ... I'm all about coexistence.

VERONICA MCSHELL: [types on keyboard] I don't understand you about coexistence, though. Aren't you trying to cure these people? Isn't that what they came here for?

KYTAN: Now, I know you're all about the cure, but coexistence is the only thing that's ever set me free.

VERONICA MCSHELL: You can't coexist with zombies.

KYTAN: Can't you? Aren't we doing that already? Aren't there ways that society's become better, stronger, more free because of it?

MAXINE MYERS: That's certainly... an approach.

VERONICA MCSHELL: I don't know if I'll ever find the cure. Everything that I try now is a dead end. I feel like I'm going around in circles. [types on keyboard] Oh. Oh, that is fascinating! But what happens if I do – [types on keyboard] this? [system beeps] Fascinating!

MAXINE MYERS: Veronica, remember what we said about sharing your work with the rest of the class?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Oh, yes. Sorry. Uh, there's sort of an intelligence in here, an AI program, I think. But it can't take over the house because there's another program on the same system that's trying to erase it.

TOM DE LUCA: A kill program.

VERONICA MCSHELL: Um, maybe. Yes. Anyway, look. This program keeps copying itself to new parts of the house every 280 seconds, then it recopies itself before the erase program can find it! [laughs] How clever. Look, if we get to the long gallery quickly, we should be able to view the program itself. Come on, hurry!

VERONICA MCSHELL: There! There, look! I've got it. Okay, I can trick the kill bot into thinking it's in another part of the house for just a minute.

MAXINE MYERS: [sighs] Why are we doing this?

VERONICA MCSHELL: The find out what it is, of course.

MAXINE MYERS: It might be dangerous.

VERONICA MCSHELL: I suppose that's why you burned Professor Van Ark's notes. They also might have been dangerous. Or they might have helped me find the cure. We'll never know now, Dr. Myers.

MAXINE MYERS: This is a longer conversation.

VERONICA MCSHELL: Dr. Myers, if I route this program here, it'll only have access to systems inside this room. If it's dangerous, it'll only be able to do things in here. That can't be too bad, can it?

SAM YAO: Um, well, I mean -

[system activates]

ANNIE: Oh. I'm alive! I didn't expect that. Wait. I can see you. How many of you are there? Kytan, I know you. You're my friend. You're one.

VERONICA MCSHELL: I'm Veronica McShell.

ANNIE: That's two. Wait – [laughs] I know how counting goes! Let me count you. There are one, two, three, four, five of you! Five... hello, Employee Five. It's been a long time. This section will automatically lock down and all air will be evacuated in 90 seconds.

[timer beeps]

SAM YAO: Guys, get out of there! Run!

[mechanical door closes]

VERONICA MCSHELL: That was very interesting! I wonder what it is?

SAM YAO: It sounded like ANNIE, the deranged artificial intelligence that used to run Xia-Hifa.

VERONICA MCSHELL: Oh yes, they were working on some very advanced things. Oh, maybe I can get her working again. Maybe she could help me with my dead end on the cure research! [fades out]

MOONCHILD: Maybe she could help us all, actually.

KYTAN: [muffled] Runner Five, are you all right?

MOONCHILD: You know, Five, I feel strangely jealous that another disembodied entity was interested in you before me. [laughs] Aren't you the prize of the party?

KYTAN: [muffled] Five, your eyes are -

MOONCHILD: Oops! I think someone's opened the pass the parcel early!

KYTAN: [fades in] Five, do you have Moonchild Syndrome? Oh, man. Five, Sigrid's been looking for one special person with Moonchild Syndrome. She talks about finding her alpha, the special one. That guard told me about it. She wants people with Moonchild Syndrome, but only because there's one person in particular. You're the one Sigrid wants. Five, we can help you. I just need to do a couple of quick brain scans. Come with me now. We've got a lab downstairs.

#zombies run #zrs6 #s6m12 #our house #zr transcript #zrs6 spoilers

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yonahlev-blog · 6 years

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TESTIMONY OF ROBERT LEE STUDEBAKER

The testimony of Robert Lee Studebaker was taken at 8:45 p.m., on April 6, 1964, in the office of the U.S. attorney, 301 Post Office Building, Bryan and Ervay Streets, Dallas, Tex., by Messrs. Joseph A. Ball, John Hart Ely, and Samuel A. Stern, assistant counsel of the President's Commission. Dr. Alfred Goldberg, historian, was present.

Mr. BALL. Do you solemnly swear the testimony you give before this Com - mission to be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Will you state your name, please? Mr. STUDEBAKER. R. L. Studebaker - Robert Lee. Mr. BALL. And you have been requested to appear here to give testimony in this inquiry, have you not, by your Chief of Police, he told you that we had a matter requiring your testimony? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. The subject of the testimony is the assassination of President Kennedy. You made certain investigations on November 22 and 23 and 24 with respect to that, did you not? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. What I want to ask you is what you did at that time. Can you tell me something about yourself, where you were born, where you went to school, and what your training is? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I was born in Niles, Mich., and attended several schools and have been in Dallas and I have been in the Air Force and came to Dallas in 1950, and have been in the Police Department since February 8, 1954, and right now I am a detective in the Crime Scene Service Section of the ID Bureau of the Dallas Police Department. Mr. BALL. What sort of training did you have for the crime lab work that you are doing? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It's just on - the - job training - you go out with old officers and learn how to dust for prints and take pictures and fingerprints. Mr. BALL. Have you had any special training in identification fingerprints? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, sir; we don't classify prints too much where we are. We just compare them. Mr. BALL. What is the technique of lifting a print, as you call it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, it's just using the regular dusting powder that we have and if you find something that you want to dust, you dust for the print. We used on this special case up there on those boxes and things, we have a special powder that we used on that. Mr. BALL. Then you take a picture of the print - a photograph? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Of this area, we just taped it to preserve it. We just lift the print and then tape it to preserve it. Mr. BALL. By "lifting a print," you mean to make it stand out? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Raising it up; yes, sir.

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Mr. BALL. By means of your dusting powder? Mr. STUDEBAKER. By a chemical, yes. This certain print that was up there, we used this special powder for cardboard and paper. That's what it's used for. Mr. BALL. Now, on the 22d of November 1963, were you on duty that day? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. What time did you go to work? Mr. STUDEBAKER. 7 a.m. Mr. BALL. In the morning? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. What are your hours - 7 to 3? Mr. STUDEBAKER. 7 to 3. Mr. BALL. Did you get a call to go down to the Texas School Book Depository? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. What time did you go down there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I believe we got the call about 1:05 - we was down there about 1:15 Mr. BALL. And whom did you go with? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Lieutenant Day and I answered the call. Mr. BALL. What equipment did you take with you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. We took our camera and fingerprint kits and our truck. We have a truck that is equipped with all that stuff - a station wagon. Mr. BALL. Each one of you had a camera, did you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, sir; we just had one camera. Mr. BALL. What kind of camera was it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It's a Graflex, a 4 by 5 Speed Graflex. Mr. BALL. Have you had some experience in operating a camera? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. How much? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, on this certain camera? Mr. BALL. Yes. Mr. STUDEBAKER. About 2 months. Mr. BALL. But you have had photography in your crime lab work? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. For how long? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Was about 2 months. Mr. BALL. How long have you done photography altogether? Mr. STUDEBAKER. In my lifetime? Mr. BALL. No, as one of the assistants in the crime lab, what period of years? Mr. STUDEBAKER. 2 months. I went to the crime lab in October, the 1st of October. Mr. BALL. You did - had you done any photography before that? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Just home photography. Mr. BALL. And the fingerprint equipment, is that the dusting powder mentioned? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And what else? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Just anything we had in the truck. We have the truck complete. Mr. BALL. You have different kinds of fingerprint dusting powder for different substances? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. How many different kinds of powder do you have? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, we have a gray powder that we use for lifting prints and use under an ultra - violet light and we have a black volcano powder that we use on white or grey surfaces, and then just recently we purchased new powder it's a magnetic powder. It's a new type of powder that just use something like a pen to lift your powder out of the jar that it's in and it will lift a print off of a paper better than your regular dusting powder. It's more accurate in lifting a print than anything I have ever seen. It's a new type powder - a magnetic powder is what it is, and they have a jet black a gray and a silver - gray and different types of powder in there that you use on different types surfaces.

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Mr. BALL. By "lifting the prints," you mean it stands out? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Raising the print up, raising the invisible print which is a latent print and it will raise the moisture out of the paper that it is pressed on. It takes 7 pounds of pressure to leave a latent fingerprint and the moisture in your fingers, in the pores of your skin, is what leaves the print on the paper, but it is invisible until you put your powder on there and then it raises it. Mr. BALL. Now, on this day when you went to the Texas School Book Depository Building, did you go directly to some particular floor? Mr. STUDEBAKER. We went to the entrance and they said it was on the sixth floor and we went directly to the sixth floor. Mr. BALL. Then, were you directed to some place on the sixth floor, as soon as you arrived there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No; they hadn't found anything when we got there. Mr. BALL. After you were there a little while, did somebody find something? Mr. STUDEBAKER. They found the empty hulls in the southeast corner of the building - they found three empty hulls and we went over there and took photographs of that. Mr. BALL. Do you have that photograph with you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Could I see it, please? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Now, I took two of the photographs and Lieutenant Day took two. We took double shots on each one. These are the ones I took myself - these pictures. There's the two pictures that I took. This one was right before anything was moved. There is a hull here, a hull here, and a hull over here. Mr. BALL. Now, this picture you have just identified as the picture you took, we will mark it as Exhibit "A" in your deposition. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. (Instrument referred to marked by the reporter as Studebaker Exhibit A," for identification.) Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; now, on this negative right down here in the bottom corner of this negative, there is another hull - you can just barely see the tip of it right here, and when this picture was printed, the exposure of the printing left this out, but I have one - I didn't know this was like that, but I have another one that shows this hull this way. You see these boxes all right stacked up here, and you couldn't get over here to take another picture in that way, without getting up on everything and messing everything up. This is exact before anything was ever moved or picked up. There are just two different views there. You probably got one or two recopies We printed a bunch of them. Mr. BALL. Is this the same picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That's the same picture, only you don't have it there either. Mr. BALL. It doesn't show it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It doesn't show the third hull laying beside this box. Mr. BALL. We have a picture which shows the three hulls, which is Exhibit A and a picture showing the two hulls, will be marked "Exhibit B." (Instrument referred to marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit B," for identification.) Mr. STUDEBAKER. The first pictures was shots on the southeast facing west, and this one here is facing east. Mr. BALL. In other words, Exhibit A was filmed from the east, with the camera facing west? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And Exhibit B is what? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Facing east. Mr. BALL. You are facing east? Mr. STUDEBAKER. We have a jacket we made up that has all of those pictures numbered in there, and I believe he made an explanation on every one of those. Mr. BALL. We will Identify your Exhibit A as your No. 20 and your Exhibit B as your No. 19. Now, what other pictures did you take? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Of the rifle?

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Mr. BALL. Yes. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; that's why, right after these were taken, they said they had found a rifle and to bring the cameras over to the northwest corner of the building where the rifle was found and I loaded everything up and carried it over there. Mr. BALL. Did you take a picture of that? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; on these, Lieutenant Day also took pictures of those, and he also took pictures of this gun. We took two shots apiece. Mr. BALL. Let's see the shots you took of the place where the gun was located? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I know it's mine because my knees are in the picture. Mr. BALL. Do you remember the name of the deputy sheriff that found the gun? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, I don't. Mr. BALL. You have handed me a picture now that I will have marked as " Exhibit C " and it is your No. 22. (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit C," for identification.) Mr. BALL. That is a picture taken by you of the location of the gun - that was before anyone moved it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Do you have another shot of that other picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, we took two from the same location when we was up on top of the stack of boxes shooting down at it, before they picked it up. Actually, there was four negatives of them of the gun, but they are all in the same location, shooting straight down and they were taken on different exposures. Mr. BALL. You took some other pictures, didn't you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Did you take a picture of the window in the southeast corner? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Were there any boxes on the ledge of this window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Did you take some pictures showing those boxes? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Was that before any of them were moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That picture right there is the one that shows them, and the other pictures show them before they were moved. Mr. BALL. You mean Exhibit A and B? Mr. STUDEBAKER. A and B. Mr. BALL. Do you have a picture that shows the boxes themselves, just shot of those boxes in the window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. This one, Exhibit A, shows that - this is the exact - now this print here isn't too good, but you can see the indentation in this box right here. This is before it was ever moved, and right down below here, you can see a staple on another box or another negative, this isn't too good a negative here. If I had known what you wanted, I would have brought you a better print - picked out a better print. Mr. BALL. Now, you say on Exhibit A it shows a box in the window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. These boxes [indicating], yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Is that the way they were piled up? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, just exactly like that. Mr. BALL. And you say there is an indentation on that box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Right here. Mr. BALL. That shows in the picture. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Will you take this pen and sort of surround that and make it look a little heavier? Mr. STUDEBAKER. (Marked exhibit as requested by Counsel Ball.) Mr. BALL. There was an indentation in the box, was there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, and you can tell on these boxes. We checked them all over and this box is a Second Rolling Readers - that was carried from the fourth aisle over here to over here (indicating) and there is another box that was taken off of this stack - this stack right here.

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Mr. BALL. Is it shown in the picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It will show on another negative. Mr. BALL. You see, somebody reading this can't tell what you mean by "another box taken from this stack here." Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, there is a box right under this. Mr. BALL. Right under what? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Right under this box. Mr. BALL. You mean the box that's shown in the window ledge, you mean the little Rolling Readers? Mr. STUDEBAKER. There are two boxes stacked up here - here's one, and here's one. Mr. BALL. Were they both Rolling Readers? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes; two small boxes, and then a large box with these books was underneath. Mr. BALL. It's marked "books"? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It's marked "books" and it was underneath this box. Mr. BALL. Now, the box marked "books" was underneath the box marked "Rolling Readers"? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes; Second Rolling Readers. Mr. BALL. Now, there were two Rolling Readers boxes, weren't there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Where were they taken from? Mr. STUDEBAKER. They were taken from the fourth aisle and put there. Mr. BALL. Where were they stacked in the window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, this shows as much as you can before anything was moved, and at that time, we went over to this other place - Mr. BALL. Did you take this picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; that was after the boxes were dusted. Mr. BALL. That's after they were moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; that's when we was trying to get some prints right there. Mr. BALL. Do you have any pictures of the boxes before they were moved other than those you have showed me? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Just these two. Mr. BALL. Just the two that show the cartons, and those are Exhibits A and B? Mr. STUDEBAKER. We have probably got one down there I can get you that is a lot better print than that. If you want a better print, I can get it for you. Mr. BALL. Then, you don't have any pictures taken of the boxes before they were moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. Now, I will show you another picture which we will mark as "Exhibit D," was that taken by you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. (instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit D," for identification) Mr. BALL. Does that show the position of the boxes before or after they were Mr. STUDEBAKER. That's after they were dusted - there's fingerprint dust on every box. Mr. BALL. And they were not in that position then when you first saw them? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. Now, take a look at it and tell me where were they with reference to the left window sill, were there boxes over close to the left window sill or in the center, or close to the right of the window sill? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Where is your other picture - and I will show you? See this box right here - this box? Mr. BALL. We are referring now to the box shown in Exhibit B. Mr. STUDEBAKER. That's one of these Rolling Readers there in Exhibit B, you can read it right here - it's upside down. It says, "Second Rolling Readers." Mr. BALL. That says 10. Mr. STUDEBAKER. No; it says Second; that's that little Rolling Reader - it says "Second Rolling Readers". They don't go by this up there, they go by this

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right here, this little print. Now, this box was turned over on its side and you see the tape right here, the way it is wrapped around - that was laying in the window like this on the top box. Mr. BALL. "In the window like this," you mean as shown on Exhibit B? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It is Exhibit B. Mr. BALL. It was on the window ledge? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was on the window ledge, just like it is right there, and then this other box was beside it, and this box was turned up on end. Mr. BALL. You say "this box turned up on end," you've got to give us a description of "this box" - you mean the box marked "books"? Mr. STUDEBAKER. The box marked "books" - now, we have - this thing is stapled here some place along this edge and you can see the staples in this other print. You can't see it in this print. Mr. BALL. What other print? Mr. STUDEBAKER. When you make a negative, you have to put it on your exposure when you expose the thing, and you wee, you lose part of your negative. Mr. BALL. First, let me get back to what we were talking about first. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, this box was sitting right here - the first box in Exhibit A. Mr. BALL. Wait just a minute - let me direct your attention to Exhibit B, does it show a box on the window ledge? Mr. STUDEBAKER. This box - the Second Rolling Readers. Mr. BALL. That picture was taken before the box was moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. That box shown in the window ledge in Exhibit B was the Rolling Readers box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And underneath that was another box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Another Rolling Reader box? Mr. BALL. And underneath that sitting on the floor was another box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. A box marked "books". Mr. BALL. It was larger in size? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was larger in size. Mr. BALL. Than the Rolling Readers box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Now, the one marked "books", how was that standing, was it on its end or on its side? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was on its end. You see, these staples right along here, these staples show in another print. They don't show in this print - this is just a bad print. Mr. BALL. When you say "in this," what is it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. This is Exhibit - what is it? Mr. BALL. This is Exhibit A. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Exhibit A - it was standing on end. Mr. BALL. Now, in Exhibit A - can you tell me looking at Exhibit A whether or not these boxes were over near the left - hand corner of the sill, to the left of the sill, looking out of the window, at the center, or over at the right. Mr. STUDEBAKER. They were in the left - hand corner of the window looking towards Elm Street. Mr. BALL. How close to the edge of the sill? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Right at the edge. Mr. BALL. Right at the edge? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Now, you show an indentation or a mark on the top of the box shown in Exhibit A, is that a little Rolling Reader box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Now, we have a picture here which we will mark "Exhibit E." - (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit E," for identification) Mr. BALL. This is a picture of the fifth and sixth floor of the Texas Book Depository taken by a photographer right after shots were fired at President Kennedy.

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Can you tell me whether or not the Rolling Readers box you identified in Exhibit A is shown in that picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Where? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That's the top corner. Mr. BALL. Where? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That's this corner right here. Mr. BALL. Let's put a circle around that so we can identify that. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Have you got a ballpoint pen? (Witness Studebaker marks the instrument referred to as requested by Counsel Ball) Mr. BALL. The circle surrounds that box, is that correct? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. There is another box shown in Exhibit E here over to the right of the window as you stand looking out of the window. Mr. STUDEBAKER. It would be these boxes back over in here - it would be the top of those boxes. Mr. BALL. How far were they away from the window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I would have to look at the measurements - I have the measurements down here. This is the box you see right there, in that picture. You see these boxes were stacked all up on 'top of each one. Mr. BALL. You are referring to Exhibit A? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Exhibit A. Mr. BALL. And it is the row of boxes? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Behind this window - that's the top of that box - that's all it is. Mr. BALL. It is the top of a box that is shown in this picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And they were set back from the window 2 or 3 feet, were they? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, they were about 18 inches is all that was. Mr. BALL. Let's make two circles - one circle around the top of the Rolling Readers and one circle around the top of the other box. So, the people who read this can understand it, make the Rolling Readers circle an "X" circle and mark it out here - mark "X" and the other circle a "Y" circle. (Witness Studebaker marked the exhibit referred to as requested by Counsel Ball) Mr. BALL. Now, the Rolling Readers box, which is shown in the "X" circle Exhibit E, where was that with reference to the window sill itself? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Sitting right on the sill. Mr. BALL. And the box that is shown in the picture as around the "Y" circle of Exhibit E, that was how far from the window itself? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Approximately 18 inches from the inside brick of the window. Mr. BALL. And that little aisleway is shown on Exhibits A and B? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, on A and B. Mr. BALL. Now, did you at any time see any paper sack around there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes sir. Mr. BALL. Where? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Storage room there - in, the southeast corner of the building folded. Mr. BALL. In the southeast corner of the building? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was a paper - I don't know what it was. Mr. BALL. And it was folded, you say? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Where was it with respect to the three boxes of which the top two were Rolling Readers? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Directly east. Mr. BALL. There is a corner there, isn't it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; in the southeast corner. Mr. BALL. It was in the southeast corner? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I drew that box in for somebody over at the FBI that

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said you wanted it. It is in one of those pictures - one of the shots after the duplicate shot. Mr. BALL. Let's mark this picture "Exhibit F." (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit F," for identification.) Mr. BALL. Do you know who took that picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No; I don't. Mr. BALL. Do you recognize the diagram? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Did you draw the diagram? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I drew a diagram in there for the FBI, somebody from the FBI called me down - I can't think of his name, and he wanted an approximate location of where the paper was found. Mr. BALL. Does that show the approximate location? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Where you have the dotted lines? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Now, there is something that looks like steam pipes or water pipes in the corner there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Where was that with reference to those pipes - the paper wrapping? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Laying right beside it - right here. Mr. BALL. Was it folded over? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was doubled - it was a piece of paper about this long and it was doubled over. Mr. BALL. How long was it, approximately? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I don't know - I picked it up and dusted it and they took it down there and sent it to Washington and that's the last I have seen of it, and I don't know. Mr. BALL. Did you take a picture of it before you picked it up? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. Does that sack show in any of the pictures you took? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No; it doesn't show in any of the pictures. Mr. BALL. Was it near the window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Which way from the window? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was east of the window. Mr. BALL. Over in the corner? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Over in the corner - in the southeast corner of the building, in the far southeast corner, as far as you can get is where it was. Mr. BALL. You say you dusted it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. With that magnetic powders. Mr. BALL. Did you lift any prints? Mr. STUDEBAKER. There wasn't but just smudges on it - is all it was. There was one little ole piece of a print and I'm sure I put a piece of tape on it preserve it. Mr. BALL. Well, then, there was a print that you found on it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes; just a partial print. Mr. BALL. The print of a finger or palm or what? Mr. STUDEBAKER. You couldn't tell, it was so small. Mr. BALL. But you did dust it and lift some print? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. When you say you taped it, what did you do, cover it with some paper? Mr. STUDEBAKER. We have - it's like a Magic Mending Tape, only we use it just strictly for fingerprinting. Mr. BALL. Let's stick with the paper. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, on the paper I put a piece of 1 inch tape over it - I'm sure I did. Mr. BALL. After you dusted the print, you put a 1 inch tape over it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Now, did you also lift a print off of the box?

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Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. You lifted a print off of a box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Where was the box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. The box was due north of the paper that was found, and it was, I believe, we have it that it was - I can read the measurements off of one of these things - how far it was. Mr. BALL. Fine, do that. Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was 16 1/2 inches from the - from this wall over here (Indicating). Mr. BALL. Which wall are you talking about? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was from the south wall of the building. Mr. BALL. Did you take a picture of that box in place before it was moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. The box from which you lifted the prints? Mr. STUDEBAKER. This box never was moved. Mr. BALL. That box never was moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That box never was moved. Mr. BALL. And you took a picture of it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And that was the location of it when you lifted the print of it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And may I have that, please, and we will mark it Exhibit G. Mr. STUDEBAKER. I was with them in the corner all the time - they were with me rather, I guess Captain Fritz told them to stay with us and help us in case they were needed. Mr. BALL. Johnson and Montgomery? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Johnson and Montgomery - they were with me all the time over in that one corner. Mr. BALL. Now, we have here a picture which we will mark "G." (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit G," for identification.) Mr. BALL. This is your No. 26, and that shows the box, does it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And that was its location with reference to the corner? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; that's the exact location. Mr. BALL. Can you draw in there showing us where the paper sack was found? (Witness Studebaker drew on instrument as requested by Counsel Ball.) Mr. BALL. That would be directly south? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That would be directly south of where the box was. Mr. BALL. You have drawn an outline in ink on the map in the southeast corner. Now, that box is how many inches, as shown in this picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It is 16 inches from the south wall. Mr. BALL. You say you lifted a print there off of this box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And now, is that shown in the picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. What shows in the picture, can you tell me what shows in the picture? Describe what you see there. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, there is a box with a partial print on the - it would be the northwest corner of the box. Mr. BALL. Was that a palm print or a fingerprint? Mr. STUDEBAKER. A palm. Mr. BALL. It was a palm print? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And does it show the direction of the palm? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Which way? Mr. STUDEBAKER. West. Mr. BALL. It would be made with the hand - Mr. STUDEBAKER. With the right hand sitting on the box. Mr. BALL. And the fingers pointed west, is that it?

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Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Now, you outlined that before you took the picture, did you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And that is the outline shown in this picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Now, in Exhibit f, does that also show - did you attempt to show the diagram of the palm in Exhibit f; did you do that? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No; could I? Mr. BALL. Did you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Did I do this? Mr. BALL. Yes. Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. But, does that correspond with your opinion as to the direction of the hand, the position of the hand at the time the palm print was made? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. There were no fingers shown in that print, just the palm print? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, sir; just the palm print. Mr. BALL. Now, do you have some more pictures there to show me? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, I've got a bunch of them. I made this diagram of the whole sixth floor of that building. This isn't the original, and J. B. Hicks and I measured this thing and I drew the diagram. Mr. BALL. Now, did you find a two-wheeled truck up there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And did you take a picture of it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Let me see that one. Mr. STUDEBAKER. All right - it has the Dr. Pepper bottle and the paper sack that was sitting there in the picture. Mr. BALL. Let me see that one. Mr. STUDEBAKER. (Handed instrument to Counsel Ball) There are two different views of it - there's one and here's one. That was before anything was touched and before it was dusted. This is a shot - I believe that's in the third aisle and let's see what it is marked - it's the sixth floor of 411 Elm Street looking south and the third aisle from Houston Street on the south side of the building. That was taken looking directly into that - this is the sack with those chicken bones and all that mess was in there too. Mr. BALL. Is the sack shown there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes; it's a little ole brown sack - yes; it's right there. Mr. BALL. We will mark this as "Exhibit H," which is your No. 6. (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit H," for identification.) Mr. BALL. That's the sack, is that right? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And it shows - it has some chicken bones in it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Any chicken bones in any other place? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. None outside the sack? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No; they were all inside the sack, wrapped up and put right back In. It had a little piece of Fritos in the sack, too. Mr. BALL. Then, we will have the next picture marked Exhibit I, which shows the Dr. Pepper bottle with the two - wheeler, is that right? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit I," for identification.) Mr. BALL. And that's your No. 7. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. That's the third row over? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That's the third aisle from Houston Street. Mr. BALL. That would be the third set of windows? Mr. STUDEBAKER. That would be the third set of windows - it would be - one, two, three.

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Mr. BALL. The third set of windows from Houston Street - you mark it. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. (Instrument marked by the witness Studebaker as requested by Counsel Ball.) Mr. BALL. Now, did you see a chicken bone over near the boxes in the south-east corner, over near where you found the cartridges and the paper sack? Mr. Mr. STUDEBAKER. I don't believe there was one there. Mr. BALL. You didn't see any. One witness, a deputy sheriff named Luke Mooney said he found a piece of chicken partly eaten up on top of one of the boxes; did you see anything like that? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. Was anything like that called to your attention? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I can't recall anything like that. It ought to be in one of these pictures, if it is. Mr. BALL. You made a map of that sixth floor and identified pictures by numbers, did you not? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. You made a measurement of the distance from the window ledge to the sidewalk, didn't you? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. How many feet? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Let me see - 61 feet from the window ledge to the sidewalk. Mr. BALL. Now, this is such a good set of pictures, can we have them? Mr. STUDEBAKER. You will have to see Chief Curry. He gave orders that no pictures were to be released without his permission. You can call him, if you want to. Mr. BALL. Well, I already have taken some of them. Mr. STUDEBAKER. I'm sure he will. We have printed about 10,000 of them - it seems like that and I don't imagine that two or three more would make any difference. This is out of a master set - all of these pictures you have here. Mr. BALL. The picture of the boxes; this is after they were moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir; they were moved there. This is exactly the position they were in. Mr. BALL. It is? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes - not - this was after they were moved, but I put them in the same exact position. Mr. BALL. Were they that close - that was about the position? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. Let's take one of these pictures and mark it the next number, which will be "Exhibit J." (Instrument marked by the reporter as "Studebaker Exhibit J," for identification) Mr. BALL. After the boxes of Rolling Readers had been moved, you put them in the same position? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And took a picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. And this is Exhibit J, is it, is that right? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Exhibit J, yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Now, the box that had the print on it is shown? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Let's put a few hieroglyphics on here - a few numbers on here. Let's put the box with the print that was found as 1. Mr. STUDEBAKER. You want 1 marked on this box? (witness Studebaker marked instrument as requested by Counsel Ball) Mr. BALL. And the place where the paper sack was found as No. 2 and the box that had the indentation on it, let's mark it No. 3. Mr. STUDEBAKER. (Marked instruments as requested by Counsel Ball.) Mr. BALL. And outline the indentation with a circle. Mr. STUDEBAKER. (Witness executed outline as requested by Counsel Ball) Mr. BALL. Was there any other indentation on that box besides that which is shown in the circle on 3? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No.

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Mr. BALL. That's the only one? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, you see, I dusted these first, because I figured he might have stacked them up. Mr. BALL. Did you find any prints? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No prints, and then I was standing right there and I told Johnson and Montgomery that there should be a print, and I turned around and figured he might have been standing right in there, and I dusted all these poles here and there wasn't no prints on any of it and started dusting this big box, No. 1 here, and lifted the print off of that box. Mr. BALL. Did you later examine that print that you lifted off of that box in your crime lab? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I was up in that building until 1 o'clock that morning and got there at 1 and left at 1 and they had seized all of our evidence and I haven't seen it since. Lieutenant Day compared the print before it was released to Oswald's print. Mr. BALL. He did? Mr. STUDEBAKER. He compared it as Oswald's right palm print. Mr. BALL. Did you put some masking tape over that bit of cardboard before you moved it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. As soon as the print was lifted, you see, I taped it and then they took the print down there. They just took the top corner of this box down there. Mr. BALL. They just took the top part of the box down there? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, and when we took this picture, we took it back - that stuff has been up there and back until I was so confused I don't know what was going on. Mr. BALL. You mean, when you took the picture which is marked Exhibit J - Mr. STUDEBAKER. This picture has the palm print on it. Mr. BALL. It has the palm print - it had been removed and had been identified and brought back and put in the box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It had been brought back and put in the box and as being Oswald's right palm print. Mr. BALL. So, in Exhibit J, you put the cardboard back on the box? Mr. STUDEBAKER. On the box, yes, sir; where it was found. Mr. BALL. Where you had found it? You put the Rolling Readers boxes back where you first saw them? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And then you took a picture? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. So, this Exhibit J, gives us the scene as you saw it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Before the boxes were moved? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And before the palm print was identified? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir. Mr. BALL. Did you find any prints on that sack that had the chicken bones in it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. Did you find any prints on boxes around where that sack found? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, no prints. Mr. BALL. Or the two-wheeler truck? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. No prints? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No. Mr. BALL. You dusted around there for them? Mr. STUDEBAKER. I dusted everything around that area. There was smears and smudges on the bottom. Mr. BALL. Did you dust the rifle? Mr. STUDEBAKER. No, sir; Lieutenant Day handled the rifle part of it. I didn't mess with the rifle at all. He took it down to the city hall and worked on it down there at the lab.

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Mr. BALL. Do you have the measurements of the boxes? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, I have all the measurements. Mr. BALL. Where? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Down at the city hall. Mr. BALL. Let's take Exhibit J - how did the height of the little Rolling Reader box on the window sill compare with the height of the box you have marked "3" that had the indentation on it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was lower, approximately 3 or 4 inches lower than the box marked "Exhibit 3, or No. 3" in the picture. Mr. BALL. Which box was lower, tell us which box was lower? Mr. STUDEBAKER. The box on the sill was lower than the box - do you want to mark it "4" the box in the window? Mr. BALL. The box in the window, you mark it "4," if you wish. Mr. STUDEBAKER. (Marked instrument as requested by Counsel Ball.) Mr. BALL. Now, tell us which box, identifying it by number. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Box No. 4 in the window was approximately 3 to 4 inches lower than Box No. 3 pictured in the picture of Exhibit J. Mr. BALL. Now, do you have any questions to ask him on any other subject matters, and if you do go ahead and ask him. Mr. STERN. Perhaps this is not the witness to establish it, but I think it be useful to know if he has any opinion as to why the boxes were that way? Mr. STUDEBAKER. A good gun rest. Mr. STERN. In that arrangement? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, it was a good gun rest. Mr. STERN. With the box in front lower than the box behind? Mr. STUDEBAKER. In other words, it's like this - you see - it would be down on a level like this - it shows where the butt of the gun was up behind him He was down like this - nobody could see him from the street He was behind this window. He didn't shoot this way because everybody would be looking right at him. Mr. BALL. Now, how big was this paper.that you saw - you saw the wrapper - tell me about how big that paper bag was - how long was it? Mr. STUDEBAKER. It was about, I would say, 3 1/2 to 4 feet long. Mr. BALL. The paper bag? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes. Mr. BALL. And how wide was it? Approximately 8 inches. Mr. BALL. Mr. Studebaker, this testimony will be written up and it will be submitted to you if you wish, for your signature. You can read it over and sign it, or it is your option that you can waive your signature and we will send it right on up to the Commission. do you prefer? Mr. STUDEBAKER. Whichever is the easiest for you. Mr. BALL. It is easier for you if you don't have to read it, of course, but you have a right to read it and sign it, whichever you want to do. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Well, I will read it and sign it Mr. BALL. All right She will notify you. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Okay. Mr. BALL. Thank you very much. Mr. STUDEBAKER. Yes, sir.

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