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jeff-from-marketing · 2 months

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Hey it's been a hot minute, I'm gonna go off about Helldivers 2 for a bit, because the whole thing fascinates me.

Funnily enough it's not even the actual game itself that truly fascinates me, as great as it is. I do genuinely think that, while not perfect, it's a very solid game that knows what kind of experience it wants to deliver, and does a fantastic job delivering on it. The Starship Troopers-esque satire is hilarious, and I love how much the gameplay reinforces that satire through things like reinforcements canonically being a whole new Helldiver sent into the meat grinder, and that the mission still counts as a celebrated victory even if you never make it back alive. I could even talk about how the objectively clunky system for calling in orbital support is actually a positive for the game, but only this game and the type of experience it's selling.

But none of that is what fascinates me about this game so much. Because y'see, I played the first Helldivers game, and it was also a great bit of fun! It's actually why I was interested in the second one to begin with. But I also know that the first Helldivers was not a very wide reaching game, none of Arrowhead's games have been. They've not done poorly by any means, they're still in business and have been for over a decade now. But they've always been fairly niche affairs. Until now. To really sell the picture, I wanna rattle off player counts for their previous games:

Magicka in 2011, Arrowhead's first big game and published by Paradox, had an all-time max player count of 11,727 players according to SteamDB. I don't believe it was on any other storefronts, but I could be mistaken. A quick wikipedia visit tells me that the game sold roughly a million units over a year which, again, not bad! Especially for a game that is admittedly fairly unusual, but is a lot of fun!

The Showdown Effect in 2013, which I only just found out about right now after double checking my numbers, had a all time high of just 3,284 according to SteamDB, and is now delisted from Steam. Though apparently there's a remake from another company happening? There's a lot less info on this one in general.

Gauntlet in 2014, this one I do know a bit more about since I also played this one. A remake of the original 1985 game, and was a good bit of fun as well! This one is trickier to get an accurate player count reading, because it did have a PS4 release and those are harder to find numbers for. Regardless, it was also on Steam, so therefore I can use those numbers at least, which gives me a max consecutive player count of 12,730. I don't know how much PS4 factored into this.

And now we get to the real interesting one: Helldivers 1. Again, this is tricky because not only was it on console, but it was actually on console before it was ever on PC, which heavily skews numbers. SteamDB has the peak at just 6,744, but this doesn't sit right with me. I've seen estimates of 50k people around the place, some say 35k, but never a solid source. It's also very difficult to search atm because of how much Helldivers 2 is blowing up. Speaking of...

So Helldivers 1 is their most popular game, and I'll be generous and say that the 50k count is the accurate one. So surely Helldivers 2 can't be that much more- oh I'm not even going to pretend, you already know what's going on here. The game has reached ~450k concurrent players just on Steam alone! And the game also exists on PS5, and if I recall correctly: there's official statements saying that the player counts are roughly equal with each other. That means a peak of ~900,000 individual players. To illustrate how bonkers batshit insane that is, motherfucking Fortnite has a current consecutive player count of roughly one million.

Let me reiterate: a game that came out of basically nowhere with little marketing, from a small studio with only about 100 employees, is rivaling the juggernaut that is fucking Fortnite. That is insane.

As someone who has played all of Arrowhead's previous games besides The Showdown Effect, this is bonkers. There's a reason the sentiment was "there's no way to have predicted this" when the servers were at their worst, because look at the previous data! How is anyone supposed to predict a sequel to a niche game (from a company very few people have heard about) to get a ~1800% increase in max player count? Their initial server capacity was 250k, which would've been very optimistic if you were just going by Helldivers 1 numbers. But then that wasn't enough. And then 360k wasn't enough. And then 450k wasn't enough. We're now at 700k server capacity and just finally getting things under control. This game just exploded in a way no one could have reasonably predicted. And I have no idea why this is the case either.

I'm not saying it's not deserved; it absolutely is! Like I said, game is great, and there's not even any shitty business practices I can bitch at this time! It's just so sudden and out of nowhere that it baffles me. Such a small percentage of these players would've even heard of the first game, let alone played it. It didn't have a massive marketing campaign, this is pretty much all spread through word of mouth, which is insane in its own right. It's not even like the game is entering an untapped market, it shares its existence with games like Deep Rock Galactic, Vermintide, Darktide, the actual Starship Troopers game, probably some others I'm forgetting. And yet, despite all of this, it breached containment something fierce. I don't have a big conclusion to make from all this, I'd love to be able to say "oh people are just getting tired of Triple A- oh I'm sorry, Quadruple A gaming and this is a breath of fresh air" and it is that, as was Baldur's Gate 3, but I'm not naive enough to think that's the main reason. Not when so many other great games continue to go undiscovered, and so many people still end up buying whatever the next big Triple A thing is. It's a great game to play with friends, and there's a lot going for it and a lot of charm, but such is also the case for the other games I already listed in this paragraph and they don't see the same popularity.

Whether it's just dumb fucking luck, or a really oddly specific set of circumstances at play that I can't see, I'm just dumbfounded and flabbergasted. But I'm not exactly gonna complain. It's fun getting sent into the meat grinder to spread Managed Democracy, and I'm glad the game is doing as well as it is, though I do hope that the devs get to have a bit of rest once the dust finally settles a little bit.

#helldivers #helldivers 2 #seriously if they ever need to update the example sentence for the word “unprecedented” this would be a solid candidate #this has genuinely kept me up at night before just thinking about how wild it is compared to all of Arrowhead's other games #let alone compared to just Helldivers 1

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artiststarme · 1 year

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Bye Bi Steve

Thank you @nburkhardt and @doubleb11 for the ideas on this fic! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Now with a Part 2!

~*~*~*~

All throughout his life, Steve has denied his interest in guys. He discredited his feelings for Tommy H. as friendship and placed his attraction to Billy as jealousy. He liked girls, had loved Nancy, so he couldn’t be interested in guys. Steve kept telling himself that all throughout high school, all throughout 1985, up until a random day in the summer of 1986.

It had been a shift just like any other, covering for Robin while she mooned over Vickie at the community pool. Steve was organizing tapes in the romance section in a way he knew would infuriate her when she came back when he heard the bell chime. “Welcome to Family Video, how can I-”

He stopped mid sentence when he saw it was Eddie. His hair was pulled back in a bun showing off the contours in his neck as well as a couple of piercings in his ears. His skimpy black T-shirt that showed off his scars and tattoos in equal measure did nothing to mute Steve’s attraction.

“Hey Big Boy, when do you get off? It’s hot as shit out today and I refuse to go to the community pool with all of the religious zealots and their mothers. Fancy sharing your pool with the rest of us peasants, my liege?” Eddie blinked up at him through his eyelashes.

Fuck, shit, fuck! This was not what Steve needed today!

Fortunately, his outward composure remained calm despite his internal crisis. “I work until 10 tonight,” Eddie groaned but Steve plowed through the interruption. “BUT, I can give you my house key so you can swim. You can bring the kids over and use the pool as long as you watch them, alright?”

Eddie nearly hopped up and down in excitement, “thanks Stevie! I knew I could count on you! I love you!”

He went to run out of the store but Steve called him back, “Eddie! I didn’t give you the key. Here, try not to make a mess please?”

“No promises, Stevie. Thank you!” Then, he pranced through the door and was gone with a squeal of the van’s brakes.

Very calmly, Steve walked to the door and flipped the open sign to closed. Then he turned the lights off and made his way to the dingy floor of the bathroom. It was there that he spent the next thirty minutes on the verge of consciousness, having a panic attack so brutal that he thought it might kill him. His entire life, he thought he only liked girls but just a moment of seeing Eddie looking so hot so effortlessly was enough to unravel everything he thought he knew about himself.

Once he wrapped his head around being attracted to Eddie (he’d seen monsters with faces that opened up like a flower filled with teeth, there were stranger things than finding a hot guy hot), he realized that he needed help. He couldn’t go to Eddie for obvious reasons and Robin was too busy to help him with his crisis. So he did the only thing he could think of… he called Nancy Wheeler.

Using the store phone at Family Video while hiding behind the counter was a low point for him but so was calling his ex-girlfriend to tell her that he might like guys. He waited for her to pick up the phone for what seemed like forever but was only a few seconds.

“Hello, Wheeler residence. This is Nancy.”

“Nance, it’s Steve. Can you come to the video store to talk? I’m kind of having a crisis and I need to talk to someone. Robin and Eddie are busy and I really need to talk to you because I think I might actually be going insane,” he rambled.

“Steve? Calm down, what’s going on? Aren’t you working right now?” Her voice filled with concern as she questioned him.

“Obviously not well! I had a crisis so I shut the door, it’s fine. Can you please come? Please, Nancy?” Steve was begging her but he hoped she wouldn’t hold it against him.

He heard her sigh and then, “fine, I’ll be there in five minutes. Just- hold on, okay? I’m sure everything will be fine.”

And so, he waited for five minutes in a sense of fake calmness. His hands were still shaking with leftover anxiety and sweat was dripping down his forehead from the stress but he was fine. He certainly didn’t jump a foot into the air when he heard a gentle knock on the door. When he peeked over the counter to see a confused and worried Nancy though, he calmed a little bit.

He unlocked the door and opened it just enough to pull her inside before slamming it closed and locking it again. “Steve, are you okay? You don’t look very good.”

He started pacing back and forth in front of her. “Okay so, I have something really important to tell you and it’s kind of a secret? Like if you tell the wrong person, it could get me killed. But I have to tell someone because I’m pretty sure I’m losing my mind.”

She put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Steve, just tell me.”

“I think I like guys. Eddie specifically, I think I like Eddie.” They both stared at each other in silence. Nancy’s face was blank as she thought over his words and Steve’s heart only seemed to race faster at her nonchalance.

“Okay, is that it?” She asked him.

“What do you mean, ‘is that it’? I’ve been freaking out all day!”

“Steve, it’s okay that you like Eddie. Thank you for telling me and I’m glad you felt that you could trust me with this information. Why are you freaking out about that?” She reassured him.

“I like girls, Nancy! I can’t like Eddie!”

“Why not?” She asked with her eyebrow raised. “No one can tell you how you feel besides you, Steve. If you like Eddie, then you like Eddie. There’s nothing stopping you from liking girls and boys.”

“Nance, you have to be either gay or straight. There’s no in-between.” He said in frustration.

“Yes there is. I read an article about bisexuality, it’s when you’re sexually attracted to both girls AND guys. So if you like Eddie and still like girls, it sounds like you’re bisexual,” she explained to him.

Steve’s eyes widened but his voice was small when he whispered, “and that’s okay? It’s okay that I’m bisexual?”

Nancy gave him a soft smile, “of course, Steve. It’s perfectly fine to be bisexual. And I’m pretty sure that Eddie has a thing for you too.”

Steve grinned at her words and pulled her into a hug that she returned gently. “Thanks Nance, I needed that.”

“Of course. Things may be awkward between us but we’re still friends, Steve. And I meant it, I’m glad you felt safe enough to tell me.”

They talked for a few more moments and by the time she left, he felt a lot lighter. He was bisexual and that was okay.

~*~*~*~

It took a few more weeks of coming to terms with his sexuality before he could tell Robin and Eddie. Both of them had come out to him so he felt safe in the fact that they would support him whole-heartedly. Even then, it came out accidentally while watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show at their weekly movie night at the Harrington house.

“He’s hot, I’m digging the fishnets,” Steve said while throwing some popcorn in his mouth.

Both Eddie and Robin snapped their necks to look at him. Eddie looked a little hopeful while Robin looked offended. “Steve, you can’t just say that. Are you seriously making fun of our favorite movie?”

Eddie’s hopeful expression turned mutinous at her words and he scowled. “That’s not cool, man. We’re trying to share one of the most important movies in queer culture and you’re mocking him because he’s wearing fishnets? What, does that infringe on your fragile masculinity so much?”

Steve hurried to backtrack and set the bowl of popcorn down on his coffee table away from his flailing arms. “What, no! I seriously just think that Tim Curry in fishnets looks hot, I’m not making fun of anything!”

“You’re not gay, Steve,” Robin told him confusedly.

“I’m half gay! It’s called bisexual, it’s when you like guys and girls. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about it, I was still wrapping my head around it…”

“What, you’re serious? Steve, that’s not a thing. Bisexual is what people say they are when they’re so much of a slut they’ll go for anything.” Eddie said, shaking his head.

Steve looked to Robin, hoping to get some reassurance but only received a scathing look in response. “Being bisexual isn’t a thing, Steve. It’s just what people call it when they pretend and try to hurt the people that are actually gay. I can’t believe you would do that.”

“I wouldn’t! I’m serious, I like both guys and girls. I’m not trying to hurt you guys or be a manwhore. I really am attracted to both. I thought you guys would be more understanding,” Steve’s voice trailed off at the end in hurt. He never even fathomed the idea that they wouldn’t accept him. Their support had been guaranteed in his mind so now that he didn’t have it, he didn’t know what to do.

Eddie scoffed, “Steve, you’re just confused. You have to be either gay or straight, there’s no inbetween. And you’re the biggest ladies-man I know. You like girls.”

Steve sighed. He felt like his best friends were attacking him for no reason. He finally found his people, felt safe and loved by them, and then ruined everything by being honest. He couldn’t believe that the people he loved and trusted the most were rejecting him.

“I just told you that I like both. Yeah, I do like girls. I love them, I think they’re great. But I also like guys. I don’t know why you guys aren’t accepting that, especially after I accepted both of you but I think you should leave.”

“Steve-” Robin tried to speak but he cut her off.

“If you guys can’t accept me for being bi, I think you should leave,” he said sternly. To his complete and utter heartbreak, they each picked up their things and walked to the door without another word.

Robin turned around just enough to tell him, “Steve, you’re just confused. You’ll get over it eventually and when you do, give me a call.”

And with that, she closed the door behind her.

Steve didn’t even try to stifle the sobs as the ‘Sweet Transvestite’ song played in the background. He rewound the tape on autopilot, tears streaming down his cheeks all the while. He’d just lost two of his best friends, two people that he’d gone through everything with, just because he was a little too different.

With tears still streaking down his face and sobs wracking his frame, he made his way to the phone perched on the wall. He dialed the Wheeler’s number in a haze and only came back to himself when he heard Nancy’s voice filter through.

“Hello, Wheeler residence. This is Nancy.”

“Nance,” he said, barely decipherable through his tears. “I told Eddie and Robin that I was bisexual and they told me that it wasn’t a thing! They left and I don’t think we’re friends anymore! After everything we went through, they left because I like guys and girls. What is wrong with me, Nancy?”

“Are you serious? They left just like that? Steve, listen to me. Nothing is wrong with you and you are valid in your feelings. Honestly, if they can’t accept you then they don’t deserve you,” She told him seriously.

“Nance, I don’t care if they deserve me or not. They’re all I have. The kids come and go, my parents hate me, and Hopper checks in sometimes but I can tell he has better things to do. Robin and Eddie are the only friends that I have consistently. And you I guess. But if I lose them, I lose everything.” Another sob tore from his throat and even Nancy started to tear up on her end of the call.

“Steve, no matter what, you have me. I know that’s not good enough but I’ll always be here for you. I’m going to go talk to them and fix this. Just relax and maybe call Hopper or one of the kids to come over to check on you, okay? I’ll handle this,” she reassured him.

“Okay, thanks Nance.”

“Of course, what are friends for?” And then the line went dead.

~*~*~*~

Nancy was livid. She couldn’t believe that two members of the Party, two of Steve’s best friends that had been through the same shit as the rest of them, would be so intolerant over who someone else was attracted to. Seeing a giant flesh monster made out of melted humans and a vindictive man that could kill teenagers in their own minds were fine but Steve liking guys and girls was too much? Ridiculous.

As soon as she hung up the phone with Steve, she grabbed her car keys, a cardigan, and her gun then made her way to the Buckley house. Eddie’s van wasn’t parked in front of it so she made her way to the Munson trailer next. Both Robin and Eddie were sitting on the stoop of the trailer and only barely glanced up when she pulled in front of them.

“Um, hey Nance. Can we help you?” Eddie asked her disinterestedly. Although, he became much more interested, and afraid, when she pulled her pistol from her car.

“Get in the trailer.”

“Okay, we’re going. What’s with the gun?” He stammered. Both he and Robin bolted inside the trailer and Nancy quickly followed.

“Nancy, please. We didn’t do anything! Are you being controlled by Vecna or something because you’re pointing a gun at us and we don’t know why. You’re our friend! You don’t want to kill us! Is your favorite song still Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper? I don’t know all the words but between Eddie and I, we can probably bring you out of it. Just don’t shoot us!”

“It’s not so nice to be betrayed by your friends, now is it?” She lowered the gun enough for them to relax before she continued her crusade. “Steve called me in tears today because his best friends, the people he trusted to accept him, rejected him and tried to call him confused when he said he was bisexual. Do you even know how much that hurt him? He called me three weeks ago having a crisis because he realized he liked a guy and didn’t know he could. After I explained it several times and assured him that it was okay, I told him that you guys would accept him. Not only did you guys trample all over his feelings, you’re also making me look like a liar. And I am not a liar.”

“Nancy-”

“No, Eddie! When you and Robin came out to the Party, we accepted you. You were nervous and scared to tell us but we all accepted you because someone’s sexuality doesn’t change who they are as a person. Steve was just as nervous to tell you that he was bisexual and you ridiculed him. What if we had done that to you when you told us? Eddie, what if Dustin had laughed in your face and told you that you had to be confused? Robin, what if Max had yelled at you and said that lesbians didn’t even exist? Whatever you imagine that would’ve felt like, Steve is feeling it right now.”

Tears were dripping down Robin’s face and Eddie had paled several shades. Both of them were at a loss of what to do and neither one could find any words to say.

In turn, Nancy dealt the final blow. “The worst part is that the reason he figured out he was bi was Eddie. You were his bisexual awakening and then you ridiculed him for it. He feels awful now and I don’t know if he’ll forgive you guys for this.”

Eddie’s face paled even further and Robin brought a hand up to her lips in shock. Nancy just shook her head, tucked her gun into her waistband, and walked back to her car. She’d done what she came to do and now she had an ex-boyfriend to comfort.

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#nancy is steve's biggest ally in this fic #especially since the only reason she knows about bisexuality is because she's bi herself #if eddie and robin hadn't shown remorse she would've shot them #she stops at the grocery store to pick up ice cream and snacks before going to comfort steve #eddie and robin make it up to steve eventually but he always remembers that they didn't support him right off the bat #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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miyagi-hokarate · 4 months

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ROBERT MCCALL'S FRAMED PHOTOS OF SCOTT...

#Scott McCall #The Equalizer #The Equalizer 1985 #The Equalizer Scott McCall #William Zabka #Robert McCall #Changed the image because this one has MORE IN ONE SHOT I'M AAAAAAAAAAA #I don't respect Robert because how THE FUCK DID HE ABANDON THIS BABY?#LOOK AT MY BOY #Miyagi-horiginal

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kata-loging · 11 months

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The Equalizer (1985): Season 1 Episode 1 Introduction of Scott McCall played by William Zabka.

#gif log #the equalizer 1985 #Scott McCall #william zabka #Edward Woodward #Robert McCall #the entire convo is essentially robert: I've retired from my job and moved back to NYC #and scott the son who he abandone around like age 8 is like: wow who knew you could do that? I'm not going to hold my breath for anything #what do you even want?#and Robert's like: I wanna get to know my son #and Scott's like wow bit late huh? not out saving the world any more?#and eventually it becomes: Well fine actually happy to see you dad if you want you can come to my violin show I'll look in the crowd for you

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eightiesfan · 1 year

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Aiwa New Audio - 1985

#aiwa #stereo #1985 #80s #1980s #80's tech #vintage tech #audio stereo #vintage hifi #80s tech #hi-fi #hi fi design #80s aesthetic #turntable #equalizer

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word-wytch · 1 year

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Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 11

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 11/? 5.2k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Parent teacher conferences and long forgotten stories uncover worlds beneath.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: stories within stories, high fantasy, discussion of childhood hardship, implied spousal abuse, parent death mention, drug use mention, heavy angst

Friday, November 15th 1985

Eddie was lost in another world.

He was floating actually. High above the clouds, not that he could see them. He wished he could but the empty crate he had stolen away in was the only thing shielding him from the suspicious eyes of the merchants aboard the zeppelin. His heart pounded as the wind carried him further than he’d ever been from the only place he’d ever known — the isolated Cloud Kingdom of Myrne. High atop a mountain range. A city of gold, gleaming like a beacon in the sun.

His back ached against the stiff wood rocking him like a cradle. He was lucky to be small enough to fit. Lucky that he had just enough space to shed his silk coat to use as padding. If he laid just right he could even stretch his legs toward the ceiling to relieve the cramps that threatened his claves.

He would have to ration the dried boar’s meat and meager flask of water that he’d stashed away in his knapsack. There wasn’t space for very much, and he needed the precious real estate for not only clothing, but the jars of herbs and poultices to stave off the illnesses he was so susceptible to.

That was why he — or, Lady Cybelle rather, ended up here in the first place. See, there was something she needed from the world beneath. Desperately. Her brother did anyway. A rare, translucent plant called a ghostfern found only in the depths of certain caves. It was a known cure for his equally rare illness, or at least that’s what she read during her herbalism studies. Much like Eddie, all she knew of the world beneath was what she read about.

Cybelle begged the high council to send for it. To send scouts to collect it. But they refused, unwilling to risk the safety of the collective for the life of just one. There was always a risk involved in the leaving and returning of Myrnish people. A risk to contract and spread more illness that threatened the lives of them all.

Cybelle was crafty though, and equally determined. She’d fashioned a mask out of moth silk with a pocket for illness-staving herbs. She would need it when the zeppelin finally landed in Torgaard. When she figured her way out of this crate without being spotted. When she set foot, for the first time, on the land she only caught a glimpse of when the clouds beneath her parted.

Eddie had grown rather fond of Cybelle. He’d been spending every evening with her since Wednesday. Ever since you handed him your world in a black three ring binder — Worlds Beneath.

It was intimate, reading your work. As if he could read between the lines and observe the way your mind worked. The way your phrasing flowed. Your choice of words. As if part of you was there within the pages. The hidden part of you.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was as captivated as he was impressed. He supposed after watching you analyze literature on a daily basis that it would be more… literary. More serious. Less fantastical. But this was beyond anything he could have anticipated.

There was a secret world in you. He would catch glimpses of it sometimes when you laughed. It would peek around the mask you wore like a curious child when he talked about elves and magic. He could hear its quiet voice becoming braver.

He was there now, inside of it. Crammed inside a crate aboard a zeppelin. You had a way of doing that, he noticed. Taking him there. Making him feel the wooden crate against his spine. The stuffy air in the close darkness around him. The fear twinged with excitement. It was a sort of magic you possessed.

He could feel it outside the pages too. The gentle burning in your fingertips, even when you pulled away. Especially when you pulled away. The quiet wanting of it all.

He wondered how often you went there, to the secret world in you. Did you drift there as you glided down the hallway? Would you hide there when the real world was too much?

He wondered how many people saw it. How many others you let in.

He wondered if he stayed there long enough, set up camp and looked around, if he would find himself there too.

______

You fixed your hair as you checked your reflection in the faculty bathroom mirror. The old light bathed everything in a yellow wash. It made your skin look as tired as you felt. You picked lint off the black blazer you pulled from the back of your closet this morning. The one with the shoulder pads. Professional, right? It made you look bigger than you felt. Perhaps parents would take you seriously if you looked like you belonged behind the desk.

There were some perks to in-service days. No classroom to manage. You got to come in at noon instead of 7:30 am. Got to be the one listening to a lecture instead of giving one. The only downside was having to stay until 7:30 pm. That and trying your best not to cry when a parent inevitably got defensive. You always looked for something nice to say about all of your students. It softened the less savory news, if there was any. More often than not it was just making small talk, telling parents what a pleasure their child was to have in class.

The heels of your shoes clicked down the empty hallway, past the trophy cases filled with plaques of names you still recognized. You caught the ghost of your reflection in the glass, the angular silhouette of the costume that you wore. You noticed your tight pencil skirt riding up in the back and you corrected it with a downward tug, keeping on the straight and narrow path toward the teachers lounge.

The wood paneled walls welcomed you in, and you padded across the old carpet toward the open boxes of pizza laid out on one of the three round tables. You grabbed a paper plate and pulled a few slices of pepperoni from the large, square cut sheet, the cheese already hard from sitting out. You rarely complained, and this time was no exception. Your stomach was threatening to eat itself and lukewarm pizza more than fit the bill.

You took a bite to satiate your blood sugar and made your way to the coffee station for the third time that day. Grabbing a mug from the stack, your fingers grazed the faded lettering that vaguely resembled the Chief’s Auto Repairs logo. You glanced at the clock as you filled it with your liquid vice. It was 2:37, which meant you had approximately twenty-three minutes before you had to be posted at your station. Your stomach churned, and not from the pizza.

“Boo,” came a gentle whisper from behind you.

Your hand jerked, sloshing coffee all over the wood veneer.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” Diane apologized, making haste to grab a generous handful of square napkins from beside the sugar. Her bright red nail polish glinted under the fluorescents as she blotted up the mess.

You put a hand to your chest. “No, no it’s ok,” you sighed, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bottom of your mug. “It’s good to see you, honestly. I didn’t think I would.”

“Yeah, I still have quite a few notes to catch up on. Just because I’m not a teacher doesn’t mean I’m off the hook,” she said with a wink. “What was the seminar about this time?” She tossed the napkins into the trash at the end of the table.

“Oh, just the usual stuff. Classroom management, how to have better boundaries with students, you know, hah.” Knots twisted in your stomach as you leaned against the counter, grabbing a milk carton and tipping it over your mug.

Diane hummed, eyes fixed on your generous pour threatening to overflow the coffee from the rim. “Sounds riveting.”

“Oh yes, enthralling,” you said, folding the mushy lip of the carton back in on itself, something to do with your hands to keep them from shaking. The coffee probably wasn’t going to help.

Diane’s eyes narrowed, “Are you… ok?”

“Me? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I’m just uh,” you tapped your finger on the edge of your mug. “Parent teacher conference day nerves, you know.”

“Ugh, I can only imagine. I hope everyone is nice to you today. I have no idea why they wouldn’t be.”

You offered a shaky chuckle. “Yeah, me neither. Just getting in my own head I guess.”

“Love the blazer, by the way. Super sharp.”

“Oh, thanks. Figured I’d dress the part.” Grabbing your plate of pizza in one hand and very full mug in the other, you took a sip off the top, marking the rim with a delicate red blot. You pulled out one of the old chairs and found your place in it, which your feet were thankful for.

Diane leaned against the table, “So, Darren called last night.”

“Oh, you’re still talking to him?” The sauce squeezed out from the corners of your bite as you sunk your teeth into the hard cheese and gummy crust.

“Yeah, a bit. Off and on. He’s a nice guy. Does stuff for his sister and her kids lot, which I feel like is a good sign, right?”

Your brows raised a little. “Yeah, totally a good sign,” you said through a mouthful.

“He invited me to the Colts game this weekend. I think I’m gonna go.”

You blotted the sauce from your lips. “Really? I thought you said he wasn’t your type.”

“I mean, what is a type anyway? If I keep waiting around for my type I might be waiting forever. I’ve gotta just start putting myself out there, you know? Give guys the benefit of the doubt for once. You never know until you try,” Diane offered as she opened up the large box of sheet pizza and ripped off two slices onto her plate.

You huffed through your nose, “Sometimes you know.”

“I mean, yeah. Sometimes, but with this one, I dunno. I mean we do have some things in common. We both like Saturday Night Live and spending time outside. He’s decently attractive, or he was at Mojo’s anyway,” she chuckled. “We’ll see what he’s like off the phone. At the very least it’s something to do, right?”

You swallowed your bite. “Right. I mean, hey, free entertainment I guess.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Diane as she settled into the seat beside you.

______

The phone was ringing. Shrill and deeply annoying as it echoed through the trailer. Eddie sighed and pulled himself away from your world in his lap, his expression blank and perturbed. He thought for a moment about answering it. About putting an end to the intrusive noise, but that would mean getting up from the toasty blanket cocoon he’d wrapped his legs in, like a warm pretzel. November’s creeping chill was doing nothing to help his motivation to leave it.

So he let it ring. And ring. Until finally the answering machine picked up, coloring the voice that came through in static and tin.

“Hey man, it’s Gareth. Um… I’m kinda freaking out about this date tomorrow. I know you’re probably just gonna tell me to stop being a pussy, but uh… yeah. Call me back.”

Eddie smirked and rolled his eyes. His friend knew him so well. There would be plenty of time to tell Gareth exactly what he needed to hear. That he was, in fact, being a total pussy. Later though. Right now he was busy.

He was a man named Lazarus now. The Amazing Lazarus, formally. And he had a full time job shuffling cards and making purses disappear.

The small crowd that gathered around him didn’t know that though. Not in this city anyway. He was certain he hadn’t seen any… artistic interpretations of his face plastered on any of the buildings in Torgaard. Yet.

If he could be quick enough with his hands they wouldn’t even notice what was missing until they were blocks away, and by then he would have long since packed up his banner and left.

“Is this your card?” he flourished to the unfortunate man who had stepped forward from the crescent crowd.

The man squinted. “No I don’t think it is.”

“Ah,” he answered curtly. “Oh, what’s this?” He feigned surprised, reaching forward to dip his fingers into the man’s pocket. He pulled back with another flourish. “Is this your card?”

“Why it is!”

Cheers and claps erupted from the crowd. Lazarus took a bow. “Thank you, thank you.” He took off his weathered top hat and passed it around to collect any loose change that the crowd was eager to get rid of.

The people dispersed as quickly as they came, leaving him alone. He reached into the hidden pocket beneath his leather glove and extracted a small pouch. And now, for the even bigger reveal.

He dipped his finger into the opening and loosened the draw strings to reveal a few spare coins and…

Another pocket watch.

It was almost like everyone carried them around in their pockets. Dull and predictable, and practically worthless to him. He sighed, wondering how long it would be before he actually made his trade worth his time today.

That’s when he spotted her — the strangest person he’d seen all day. Maybe all year. Maybe in his entire life, and he’d seen a lot of people.

The first thing he noticed was her shock of white hair, cropped in a bob with bangs like a toddler. She toddled like one too. Petite and girlish. Flat boots with curled toes flapping like duck feet against the dirty cobblestone. Deeply unstable. Crinkled gold coat gleaming like a beacon in the sun.

But the real clincher was the mask she wore. A big crescent moon that swept across her round face. Strange and alien. Stark against deep copper skin. Eyes like saucers.

The perfect target.

He strolled up to her, and her enormous eyes drank him in like they were parched.

“Hey, you look like the type of person who might appreciate a magic trick.”

She looked up at him, chin lowering beneath her mask. “A… a magic trick?”

He couldn’t place the accent.

“Oh yes,” he said, shuffling his cards in an arch from one hand to the other. “Have you ever seen a magic trick before?”

It was a silly question to be asking someone who looked like they’d never seen a man before.

“Oh, um. I do not think so,” she said, her flat silk boots stumbling across the cobblestone to regain her footing. “Sorry I am a little, uh… it is like the air here is just so… different.”

Lazarus stopped shuffling. “Different? Different how? Different from where?”

She looked around, out past the zeppelin docks toward the horizon. She pointed toward the sky. “Myrne.”

“Really,” he half whispered. In all his travels he had never seen a Myrnish person before. He had only ever heard about them from others and what little they knew secondhand of their isolated culture.

“The air…it is just… thicker,” she said between breaths. “Sorry. I am quite dizzy.”

He took a step closer. Close enough to assess that there were no pockets to be found on her strange garments, but there was something else that excited him much more. An obelisk of glimmering pale gold that dangled from her neck. Worth a small fortune, at least.

The gold found in the mines of Mount Myrne was different from any other precious metal in the world. It was found only there, and unlike common gold, was very hard. It sparkled rather than shined, and most importantly possessed an energy that could be harnessed. Like magic.

The gnomes would use it to power their inventions. It didn’t take much of it to make a moderate machine come alive. A piece this size could surely afford him a permanent home, and then some. No more hiding his caravan outside cities. No more paying for stables or worrying about wolves making a meal of his horse.

He could picture it now. A little cottage in Shantiglade by the sea. He would wake up to a full body stretch in a real bed. He would fix himself a goose egg omelet over a real stove with peppers from his garden. He would open his windows and taste the fresh brine in the air.

He would stroll leisurely to the beach where no one knew his face. Where the tide would kiss his ankles and wash away his footprints. Where his past couldn’t follow him.

The pendant winked in the sunlight. She was so small. He could easily break the chain from around her neck with a single tug and run.

“So, what brings you all the way down here?” He drew closer, unable to tear his eyes from the shimmering treasure.

She stepped back in time with his advance, like a dance, adjusting the mask on her face with hesitant eyes.

“I am looking for ghostfern.”

“You’ve come a long way for a plant, my dear.” Another step forward.

Another step back. “My brother needs it. He will die without it.”

It was a look he’d seen before. Desperation twinged with hope. He’d seen it in his own reflection more times than he cared to admit. He saw it in his mother too, though the hope faded almost as quickly as she did when the cost of the cure was too great.

She lowered her gaze. “Ghostfern is very rare. None of our merchants carry it, though I hear it can be found in caves outside of Rower’s End, but I do not know how to get there.”

Rare, expensive — what difference did it make when it was out of reach?

“That’s a long ways off,” he offered solemnly. It was deep into the boglands and nary a merchant dared to venture along the thin, winding path to Rower’s End. The rumors of sinister creatures and bog crone hexes were enough to keep them away.

The strange young woman seemed unfazed by this. “Have you been there before?”

Lazarus huffed. “No, I but I do know how to get there.” The gold obelisk winked at him again and he stilled his itching hands. “How about I uh… make you a deal?”

“A deal?”

“Yes, a deal. I take you to Rower’s End in exchange for that pendant you’re wearing.”

She sized him up, the gears turning behind her enormous, chestnut spheres. “You will take me back then too? To Torgaard?”

Lazarus nodded firmly, “Of course.”

Her eyes crinkled, sparkled like the obelisk she wore. “Then it is a deal.”

“Excellent,” smirked Lazarus. “Ah, what is your name, by the way?”

“Cybelle.” Certainly one he hadn’t heard before.

“Lazarus, pleasure to be doing business with you.” He extended his hand.

Cybelle cocked her head, studying his open palm hovering in the space between them like a foreign object.

“Uh, you — you shake it. See? Like this.” He demonstrated awkwardly with his other hand, then presented her with the opportunity again. “Now you try.”

Cybelle stared at his hand. Her fingers twitched, gaze darting from his palm to his eyes. “Ah… sorry.” She put her hands up sheepishly, waving his away. “Trying not to get sick.”

Lazarus retracted his hand and gave a single, solemn nod. “As you wish.”

______

Your eyes tracked down your list of parent names, then up at the clock. It was 6:45 on the dot. The last name on your list was scheduled at 6:40.

There was a part of you that hoped he wouldn’t show at all. The churning in your stomach was kicking up with each minute that ticked by, anxious eyes flitting from the paper, to the door, to the clock.

Until suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway. He was tall, weathered, with a short grey beard. Hair even shorter, stark against the ruddy skin that it encircled atop his head. He wore a denim jacket with a corduroy collar and olive green work slacks stained with patches of grease.

He peered around your classroom tentatively, as if looking for a sign that he found the right one. “Hi, Wayne Munson." It sounded like more of a question.

You stood up from behind your desk with a jolt. “Oh, hi! You must be Eddie’s dad.” Knots twisted in your stomach. You extended your hand to him and put on the warmest, brightest mask you could muster.

“Uncle, actually.” His hand was rough and thickly calloused, fingers stained from nicotine. You could smell the stale scent of his vice on him, a family habit, evidently. “Sorry ’m a little late. Still a bit early for me, I work the graveyard at the plant.”

Uncle. The questions bubbled in your gut but there was no place to air them in the split second between you. “Oh that’s no problem, you’re last on my list today anyway. Here, have a seat.” You gestured to the chair opposite yours at your desk.

Your desk. The same desk his nephew held your hand under. Your stomach churned again.

As Wayne eased himself into the small, wooden chair, you allowed your timid eyes enough agency to take stock. There was a weight to him, not in his body but in his aura. A heaviness that you could feel. Tired stories you strained to read between the lines on his face, stained into the cracks of his fingers. You would search for the resemblance to the one you saw most often in that chair. You would find very little save for their strong oval faces and the warmth that surprised you in his ice blue eyes.

Wayne sighed, deep and heavy as he creaked back into the chair. “Alright, how’s Ed doing in class?” he asked flatly.

There was something else in his eyes, leaden like defeat. Like bracing steel. Like tired expectation.

He might as well have said, “Let’s get this over with.” It was the same tune. A tune he memorized. Sung a thousand times. A tune his voice was tired of.

“Eddie is…” a soft smile crept onto your face and you suddenly became captivated with the pen on your desk. You felt him lean forward, hinging on the words you left hanging in the air.

And so you told him the truth.

“…one of the most creative and tenacious people I know.”

There was a breath that he’d been holding in, a sigh that permeated the stunned stillness between you.

“I know it isn’t easy for him to be here. I know he’d rather be doing a million other things but he’s still here, you know? Despite being denied graduation twice.”

He knew. You could see it as clearly as the lines that softened on his forehead.

“I mean sure, I could tell you that he’s got a B minus in my class right now. We could sit here and talk about grades, and attendance, and behavior, but… he’s trying really hard and I don’t think that you can… quantify that. There aren’t grades for effort. They don’t give marks for how many lonely students you offer a place to sit in the cafeteria. It isn’t something you can measure.”

Wayne leaned closer, the ice in his eyes melting so much that he needed to blink it away.

The sight stirred a deep part of you. The easing of the bracing steel into something so much softer. Tender like a bruise. You thought about Eddie Munson with pen on his hand and shame in his eyes. Your nose burned.

“You know he’s got a lot of leadership qualities too,” you said, steadying the quiver from your voice. “He’s in a band, he runs a club. He’s involved and engaged. He’s…” your eyes lowered again, thumbing at the pen on your desk. “He’s got an enormous heart,” you said, quieter. “I think he’s just… extraordinary. If you want to know the truth.”

Wayne glanced away, toward the windows, as he swiped a calloused finger at his cheek. “M’sorry,” he muttered, blinking. “Y’know I’ve been goin’ to these for the past, what is it… nine years now? Nobody ever has nothin’ good to say about ‘im. Not a single one.”

An ache sank deep in your chest. It stung, like your eyes did when you imagined the younger versions of the man who took that chair most often, and those of the one in it now. Sitting in front of the big desk. Facing someone who was far less kind than you on the other side.

“You’re the one who’s been tutoring ‘im, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, stomach churning again. You figured he’d mentioned that. It would have been strange for him not to. “Yes. A few times a week after school. It seems to be helping. He showed me his progress report, all passing grades so far. He’s gonna walk that stage this year. He will if I have anything to do about it.”

Wayne cracked a smile at your determination. “Well thank you kindly for all your patience. I mean it. The boy’s always struggled in school. Been an issue even ‘fore I had ‘im.”

“What happened before you had him?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had a moment to process whether they were appropriate or not. Whether it was your place to ask.

Wayne sighed deep as his weathered hand eased the exhaustion creasing his brow. “My younger bother is… really somethin’ else to put it mildly. Always has been. He’s in county now doin’ time for stealin’ cars and other petty shit— sorry, young lady, pardon my French.”

You shook your head and waved it off, the humor of his comment overshadowed by the concern twisting in your stomach. “It’s fine, really. Please continue.”

“Ed’s mom on the other hand, well she had ‘er own problems but not like him. Actually, I recon Warren was the biggest problem she ever had. Real young when she had Ed, maybe 19, if even. ’S hard to remember. Younger than Warren was, I know that much. We were all still livin’ in West Virginia at the time. A few years after that Warren got in hot water with the law. Packed up Lorena and the baby and settled in Hawkins with a few gamblin’ buddies he’d met from out this way.”

A twist, deep in your heart. You swallowed, leaning forward.

“Well, Warren managed to find some stable employment fixin’ cars. Stayed out of trouble for a few more years. Then Lorena started gettin’ sick. Always had issues with her heart, see. I don’t think the stress of livin’ out here with Warren helped none. I seen the way he’d talk to her when I would visit, always so suspicious of every damn thing.”

Your chest was so tight all of a sudden. Head filled with flashes of images you’d never seen. Images that you could feel. A woman in a cotton dress looking out a window. A profound loneliness. A longing for a freedom she may never know.

“When Warren started gettin’ into trouble again I knew I had to do something, for Ed and Lori’s sake. They put ‘im away for a year that time, so I packed it up and moved out here. It was a good year. Gave us all a break from my brother. Sorry to go on a tangent, it’s just been a lot.” Wayne sighed deeply, smoothing his beard with his hand.

“No, no you’re fine,” you reassured, putting on your best mask for him. Behind it you were breaking.

“He was worse when he came back though. Started gettin’ into drugs. Few years after that, Lori passed due to her heart. Ed was ten at the time. I shouldn’t have let the bastard have him at all, but he was stubborn as hell and he had custody. Had ‘im for a year before he finally messed up bad enough to go away for a long while. Best thing he ever did was go to jail, I’ll tell you what.”

“I—,” you took a deep breath, the pen on the desk so enthralling again, “I’m sorry, this is… I wasn’t, um, expecting—”

“No I’m… sorry to dump all this on you. Don’t get many people who wanna listen to be honest.”

“No, it’s really ok. I’m the one who asked. It’s just…”

“I know. Kid’s had it rough, to put it mildly.”

You took a slow, shaky inhale to steady yourself and found the courage to meet his eyes again. “He’s incredibly lucky to have you,” you said earnestly.

The ice in his eyes melted again. The steel now soft and pliant. The weight in him less heavy.

“You’ve done such a good job raising him,” you offered gently, swallowing your tears. “Really, he’s a wonderful person. You should be so proud.”

Wayne sighed, allowing a full, bright smile to wash over him. He blinked quickly, glancing toward the windows again, and you wondered how often he heard that. If he ever did before.

“Thank you,” he said, barely audible.

It was strange, your sudden fondness for a man you dreaded meeting.

“I should be thanking you. For sharing. For everything,” you said, stilling the quiver in your chest with a deep breath. “I think that’s all I really have for you today.” Your trembling hands gripped the chair beneath you.

Wayne nodded, “I’m glad I came. For once.”

You smiled, big and bright. “I’m glad you did too.” You extended your hand, your open palm hovering in the space between you. “It’s been an honor to meet you.”

Wayne’s warm, calloused hand bridged the great divide and squeezed yours gently. Lingered for a moment. “You as well,” he said, a fondness you could feel in his touch. He gave a firm shake before letting go.

“Have a great rest of your day,” you said with mustered cheer as he creaked out of the wooden chair.

“You as well,” he said with a wave as he made his way toward the door. His footsteps faded beyond the threshold, into the din of the hallway.

A deep, ragged sigh escaped you.

You thought about Eddie Munson again. Thought about his oval face and big brown eyes. Thought about them smaller. In a hospital. Filled with unspeakable sadness. Sitting in the emptiness she left behind. At home by himself drawing dragons on his pages. Fighting a monster in his living room.

Eddie Munson. With pen on his hand and shame in his eyes.

There was hope in them too. Unbreakable. Eager and wild. Restless, and frenetic, and warm.

All at once.

It surfaced then. The strangled sob that released from your chest. It echoed off the tile floor and concrete walls that would still surround you both.

______

A/N: Apologies for how angsty that was. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it though, lots to explore in these new worlds we're uncovering ;)

As always, I deeply appreciate any and all comments -- keyboard smashes, theories, small novels, all of it. I work very hard on this story and hearing your reactions fuels me in ways that I can only begin to tell you.

Please reblog and help others to find my precious creation! ✨

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