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quicksilversquared · 4 years

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Traps and Sneaks: Chapter 2 (of 2)

As the Guardian, it’s Marinette’s job to protect the Miracle Box and all of the Miraculous inside of it from evil. Obviously just sticking it away somewhere hidden isn’t going to cut it, so Marinette makes a box to hide it in. A booby-trapped box. A very dangerous booby-trapped box.

And if a certain someone gets their thieving little fingers caught in it, so be it.

links in the reblog

Lila sniggered to herself as she snuck up the stairs in the Dupain-Cheng bakery, unnoticed and unhindered.

Really, it had been way too easy to get in. All it had taken was feeding Alya a lie about how she had lent Marinette something to help her finish with their most recent Literature project but hadn't gotten it back, and she was worried about approaching Marinette to ask for it because, well, Marinette had been so busy recently that she probably thought that she had returned it. Lila was worried about appearing like she was accusing Marinette of stealing it if she asked about it, and they were only just starting to fix their relationship after getting off on the wrong foot. Alya had swallowed the lie like it was the most believable thing in the world, clearly thrilled that Lila and Marinette might be on the road to reconciliation, and from there all Lila had needed to do was suggest that maybe it would be easier for her to just fetch her things herself than it would be to ask Marinette.

Alya had been too eager to help, going into the bakery herself and getting permission from Mrs. Cheng to go in. Then she had let Lila in the side door- "I can't possibly go through the bakery myself, what if they recognize me and blame me for the time when Marinette got expelled and don't let me in!" Lila had exclaimed when Alya suggested that she just go in through the front herself- and made sure that she knew the way up before leaving. There had been a dicey moment when Alya moved to come up with Lila and help look, but Lila had waved her off with another excuse, insisting that she didn't want to eat up more of Alya's free time, especially when she knew that Alya and Nino had been thinking of going out for ice cream.

Alya had left, Marinette's parents would be busy in the bakery for hours, and Marinette herself was across the city at some sewing techniques workshop that she had won a full-ride scholarship for and hadn't shut up about all week. There would be no one to catch Lila and plenty of time for her to investigate Marinette's room and find- well, anything she could use against her.

A diary with embarrassing secrets, perfect for blackmail. Money, perfect for- well, money was always a good thing, and so was jewelry that she could pawn. Photos, also for blackmail. Sketches of designs for any other contests Marinette might have her eyes on, to copy and claim that Marinette had taken Lila's ideas. Maybe in-progress commissions that Lila could mess up, all the better to put a dent in Marinette's reputation if the damage wasn't found before she sent the pieces off to whoever had bought them.

One last flight of stairs, and Lila pushed open the door to the Dupain-Cheng apartment. Another set of stairs led up to a trapdoor that Lila could recognize as Marinette's (thanks to Alya's instructions), and she scampered up the steps and into the obnoxiously pink room at the top of the stairs.

The first thing she noticed: it was neat, unlike what Alya had warned her. There wasn't fabric draped all over the place or notebooks left out. On one hand, that would make things more difficult because she would have to search to find anything interesting, and unless Lila wanted to raise suspicion right away, she would have to put away anything she took out. On the other hand, well, it would probably be easier to find some things if she didn't have to dig through piles of fabric scraps or whatever it was that Marinette apparently usually had scattered around her room.

"Okay, first impressions," Lila said out loud as she glanced around. Marinette's school bag was by her desk- maybe she could tear out a couple pages of notes, so Marinette wouldn't have them to study from on the next exam. Next to the desk was a mannequin with what looked like a fairly complete outfit on it, leather pants with a lot of detail work and a matching jacket. Lila fingered the material, glancing at the seams on it. Since the piece was complete- or at least it looked complete- Marinette probably wouldn't look at it too closely before sending it off to its recipient. The recipient who, if the size of the pieces and the look of them was any indication, was probably Jagged Stone.

If she could mess with Jagged Stone's perception of Marinette and maybe mess up their working relationship, that would be perfect. Then he wouldn't feel inclined to do Marinette any favors like, say, coming in to call Lila out on her stories.

Lila decided that she would look for a seam ripper later, when she was poking around the desk. There was no point in stopping her assessment of Marinette's room now for that. After all, she had plenty of time.

The desk was otherwise pretty clear of anything interesting, though Lila was sure that she would dig through it later if she had time. The boxes on it probably just had sewing stuff anyway, and that- well, mixing it up or taking things might annoy Marinette, but she probably wouldn't think that much of it.

Across the room, though- well, there was a storage chest doubling as a bench, and Lila would be very surprised if there wasn't anything interesting in there. There might be a lock to deal with, but she had expected that and brought along her lock picking kit along. A few pokes and she would be in, ready to find out any secrets that Marinette might prefer stay hidden.

"Why couldn't she leave her diary on her desk like a normal person," Lila grumbled anyway, because it was also very possible that she would unlock the chest and find...nothing. Maybe Marinette didn't have any juicy secrets for Lila to exploit, and this whole trip would be- well, not for nothing, because she was still fully intending on causing ill-intentioned chaos, but not nearly as productive as she had hoped.

And considering that Lila was running quite a large risk with her lies to Alya about the thing she had 'loaned' to Marinette, a large payoff would be really preferred.

After a few more minutes of poking around- Marinette didn't keep a diary up near her bed, either, or any jewelry of any value, not that that stopped Lila from pocketing a few exotic-looking necklaces that she could always claim were gifts from people that she met around the globe- Lila turned her attention back to the large storage chest. The lock gave after a minute of working on it, and she flipped the lid eagerly, hoping that- well, hoping that there would be something interesting inside. Instead, she came face-to-face with...presents.

Boring. Knowing Marinette, they were probably all homemade and not worth anything.

Lila scoffed, wrinkling her nose at the pile of gifts. There was nothing interesting about Marinette being so disgustingly organized that she had gifts for her friends prepared well ahead of the holidays and their birthdays. She shoved a couple of the presents to the side, her nose wrinkling further at the next row of equally neatly-wrapped presents underneath.

Except... they were all labeled as being for Adrien.

Lila's eyebrows raised as she glanced at the top row of presents and- yep, all for Adrien. On closer inspection, all of them had little post-its on them with what event- and what year- they were meant to be for.

She sniggered. Marinette was a little obsessed, wasn't she? But as interesting as this was, it wasn't exactly something that she could easily use as blackmail. A bit disappointed, Lila kept digging, shifting packages aside. One more layer, and her fingers brushed against a dark wooden box, one that looked like perhaps Marinette had put it together herself.

It was exactly the sort of thing that a girl like Marinette- someone annoyingly craftsy- would store her diary in. Jackpot.

Smirking, Lila pulled the box out and considered it, her smile dropping as she did. Really, upon second glance, it was surprisingly sloppy, with uneven, dripping varnish and wonky nails. It was ridiculously heavy, even for its size, and especially considering that it was clearly made out of some cheap plywood. And oddly enough, it had two locks on it.

Frankly, the locks were the only reason why she didn't immediately lose interest. If they hadn't been there, Lila probably would have assumed that it was actually a failed project that Marinette was trying to hide.

"Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out which lock to try," Lila scoffed, setting the box on the floor in front of her and settling down more comfortably to work on it. "That second keyhole isn't even in the right spot!"

Really, had badly had Marinette messed up that she had managed to insert a keyhole in middle of one of the side panels, nowhere close to where the box and the lid had come together? It wasn't even straight- in fact, it was upside down. Shoddy craftsmanship, all around.

(The fact that Lila had never made anything like the box and had no idea how to even approach putting a lock like that on a box or even make any sort of box herself was, of course, completely irrelevant.)

Unlike the lock on the storage bench, the lock on the box wasn't very straightforward. There were more pins in this lock, and each one had to be individually maneuvered into place. Lila worked on it, scowling in concentration as she slowly picked it open.

Either Marinette had just happened to have a lock sitting around that she used, or there was something good inside of the box. No collège student was going to spend the amount of extra money it would take for a fancier lock like this for no reason at all.

With one last careful nudge, the lock gave. Lila grinned in triumph, flipping the box open. The lid seemed a bit heavy- for some reason it seemed to be lined with a strange metal band, but who cared- and there were a few stray papers and a thin journal sitting in the top compartment, on top of a wooden shelf with- you have GOT to be kidding me- another lock, just barely visible. Lila reached in to move them, and suddenly metal flashed, quick as a blink. Lila shrieked in surprise, automatically yanking her hand back, but she was far too late. Pointed metal teeth had snapped shut around her arm, keeping it in place, and- oh god.

They hadn't just closed around her arm. No, they had gone straight through the skin and- oh god the pain-

Lila fainted.

Marinette had been having a lovely time at her sewing techniques workshop. Their instructor had walked the small class through all sorts of different ways of handling material, and next week they would be covering more tricky materials. They had gotten an entire binder with step-by-step photo reminders of what they had learned, and Marinette's already had notes scribbled up and down the margins.

She was so glad that she had won the scholarship to the class. It wasn't that she couldn't afford it herself- after all, with the commissions that she had done lately for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, she wasn't left wanting for money- but considering that she often had to miss things because of akuma attacks, Marinette wouldn't have wanted to spend the money on something that she might not even be able to attend. With the scholarship...

Well, if an akuma showed up, that would still suck. She was learning so much from the class and it would definitely up her design skills. Having to duck out on the class because someone got upset and Hawkmoth had to akumatize them would be a huge disappointment, because she would miss out on so much valuable instruction. But at least she wouldn't be spending her own money on it.

She still felt a bit guilty that she was doing the class and not spending the spare time working on learning more Guardian stuff, but the Order and Master Norbu had assured her that she should make sure to balance her superhero duties and her civilian life. After all, they didn't want her coming to resent her duty as Guardian because of everything that it made her miss out on.

The last section came to an end, and everyone turned off their machines and started packing up. Marinette tucked her sewn samples into her bag with her binder- at some point, she wanted to actually file the fabric pieces in next to their respective instructions, but that was a project for another day- and pulled out her phone, opening it up to check for messages. She had put it on silent for the class- silent with the sole exception of akuma alerts, thank you Max for that setting modification- so that no one would accidentally distract her. Sometimes the class chat blew up over the weekend, and having that pinging constantly throughout the class...

Well, it wouldn't give anyone a very good impression of her, that was for sure.

-and oh boy that was a lot of messages.

"My parents tried to call me ten times, Tikki!" Marinette hissed, all of the relaxation and good feelings from the day gone in a heartbeat as she tried and failed not to catastrophize. "Oh my god, what if one of them had a heart attack or a machine broke and sent pieces everywhere and they're at the hospital and it's really bad and I should have been there and-"

"Call them back!" Tikki urged, sticking her head out of Marinette's jacket as soon as they were clear of the rest of the group. "And- look, it was both of your parents calling, not just one or the other. So that means that they're probably fine, right?"

"Oh!" Marinette considered that for a minute, then dove straight back into her worrying. "Then maybe the bakery caught on fire and burned down and we're homeless and-"

"Just call them back, Marinette!" Tikki exclaimed, though she was looking worried, too. "Then they can tell you what actually happened."

Marinette wavered, then pressed Call. Her mom's phone rang once, twice, and then she picked up.

"Marinette! Ah, is your class over?"

"Yeah, we- we just finished," Marinette responded, her heart rate slowly dropping back towards normal. Her mom didn't sound overly upset, so- maybe it wasn't super-serious? "I- I saw you called? And papa?"

"Yes, I hated to call during your class, but- well, there was an incident," her mom told her, sounding a bit hesitant. "Right away- your dad and I are fine, the bakery is fine, the house is fine. But your classmate- Lila Rossi- she broke into the house and into your room. She got into your storage bench and- anyway, long story short, there was a box in there that was, ah, quite severely booby-trapped?"

Marinette's heart skipped several beats, jumping straight into her throat. The- that was the box where she hid the Miracle Box. It was very well hidden- after all, it had been in a locked storage bench, hidden under Adrien's presents, and then locked (several time over) itself- and she had assumed that that would be enough to keep it undiscovered. If Lila had gotten into it- even just into the first layer- that could be enough to put the Miracle Box in danger. The police might want to know what was in the box, or they might have broken it open to get Lila's hand out- because presumably Lila had gotten her hand caught when she tried to get the box open, and getting the trap open wasn't exactly straightforward- or maybe Lila hadn't been caught too badly and had somehow persuaded someone to open the box for her. "It- yes?"

"Whatever the box is hiding- well, it's still hidden," her mom assured her, and Marinette couldn't stop herself from letting out a sigh of relief. "The second level is still locked. And the doctors did manage to get it off of Lila's arm- well, after a bit of puzzling, at least, they said that set-up was very clever. That was why we called you, actually. We didn't want to bother you, but it was just taking the hospital and the police so long to figure out that lock mechanism and they had been hoping for a clue."

...well, at least her mom didn't sound upset with her. Yet, anyway.

"We've gotten the box back now," her mom continued. "And we've already dealt with the police, so you don't need to worry there. They understand that Lila wasn't meant to be in our house, much less your room, and that the box was securely hidden and locked up. The only reason they might want to talk to you is to learn more about why Lila might have broken in."

"To make me look bad, I bet," Marinette said dryly. "To steal things, or plant evidence, or try to find something to blackmail me. Why else?"

"Lovely girl." Her mom said something to someone else on the other end of the line, muffled and indecipherable, before she came back. "That's all, really. Will you be coming back soon?"

"Yeah, I'm heading for the bus stop."

"All right. See you soon!"

With that, the call disconnected. Marinette stared at her phone for a minute, then glanced down at Tikki. Her kwami looked just as worried.

"I thought that you had hidden the Miracle Box really well!" Tikki exclaimed. "That was a really nice place, and no one ever goes digging in there! Add in the fact that you had it locked, and it should have been fine."

"Yeah, but clearly Lila was digging around with the intention of finding anything that I had hidden," Marinette told her. She let out a sigh, the stress starting to inch back in on her, taking all of the relaxation from her sewing class away. Maybe the Miracle Box hadn't been found today, but- well, this was hardly going to be the end of this whole fiasco. If (when) Lila got akumatized again, she would probably go after the box again to see if she could break it. She might tell people at school about it- changing, of course, the reason why she had been in Marinette's room in the first place and making up completely different circumstances as to how she had ended up with her hands on the box. While Marinette really had no choice but to return the box to its previous spot for the moment- after making sure that it was re-set, of course- it wouldn't be completely safe for the long term.

At least summer break was coming up soon and she had already been doing research on how to DIY hidden compartments. Clearly she would need to use that knowledge earlier than intended.

"Maybe she'll actually get in trouble this time," Tikki offered hopefully. "I mean, breaking and entering, trying to steal- you could try to press charges."

"Maybe, but considering how injured Lila probably is, she'd probably pull the sympathy card." Marinette groaned. "I don't understand how she even got in! We've been keeping the side door locked, and mom knows better than to let Lila into the house."

"If she got through the locks on the bench and the box, Lila probably knows how to pick locks," Tikki reminded her. "She might have just picked her way through the door downstairs."

That was a terrifying thought, honestly. That someone like Lila could just pick her way past a door lock and get in her house...

"If that's what happened, I'm definitely going to petition my parents to get better locks." Marinette checked her room again, then headed back down the stairs. Tikki flew after her, phasing into her purse. "I don't think they would agree to put in booby traps, too, but- ugh, I'm going to be worrying about people getting into the house now."

"Maybe it's just a matter of the lock being old and needing to be replaced," Tikki suggested. "Hopefully your mom knows more."

"I hope so!"

It felt like it took forever for the bus to come, and then it trundled along the streets far too slowly for Marinette's taste. She spent the entire trip worrying over different scenarios where Lila could twist things around to make Marinette look like the bad guy and trying to figure out where she could add a hidden compartment to her room, somewhere where no one would notice the addition.

This far, she was coming up blank. Maybe she could put something on her balcony- but that just didn't seem secure enough. It would be far too easy for a passing akuma (or, perish the thought, a passing supervillain) to accidentally knock into and destroy a hidden compartment. No, it would be better to get creative inside her room.

Once she hopped off of the bus, Marinette wasted no time in hurrying home. The bakery was still open- hopefully business hadn't been interrupted too much by Lila's injury- and she headed in, sparing a quick smile for a few regular customers that she recognized. Her parents had one of their normal bakers working the counter in her mom's place, clearly finishing up the day so that the Dupain-Chengs would be able to deal with the mess going on in their home.

Hopefully it wasn't messing production up too much. If both of her parents were upstairs and they had one of the normal back kitchen bakers at the counter, that meant fewer hands on deck to start preparing things for the next day. And since the staff wouldn't stay overtime, that meant that her parents would end up working long hours.

Freaking Lila. Of course she just had to make life difficult for everyone else simply because she was spiteful and fixated on revenge.

Not wasting any time, Marinette headed upstairs. Her mom was in their kitchen and on the phone, her back to the door, but her dad wasn't anywhere in sight. That meant he was probably downstairs, which suggested that she actually wasn't in trouble because she had the trap. If she had been, her dad would be there too, his arms folded and a frown on his face.

Her mom, though, was more than making up for the frowning as she argued with whoever was on the other end of the line.

"No, I am not arguing the definition of 'breaking and entering' or 'trespassing' with you," Mrs. Cheng snapped into the phone, mere seconds after Marinette entered the room. Marinette paused, blinking over at her mom in confusion. Normally her mom didn't raise her voice over the phone. "You are not a resident here, you do not get to let people in who we don't want inside. That is outright irresponsible behavior- no, I do not care what your interpretation of the situation was, I already told you that. And I will be contacting your mom about this. Perhaps she can get it through your head how unacceptable your actions were. Good-bye."

With that, Mrs. Cheng hit the end call button with a flourish, scowling at the phone for a moment before noticing Marinette. Her scowl was promptly replaced with a smile. "Marinette! How was your class?"

"It went well," Marinette told her, biting back the urge to gush. That could wait until dinner, after the more pressing issue of Lila's break-in had been dealt with. "Who was on the phone?"

"That was Alya," Mrs. Cheng told Marinette with a sigh. She pocketed her phone and washed off her hands before returning to her dinner prep. "I was calling to ask her if- well, she stopped by earlier to get something, so I wanted to know if she saw or heard anything out of place while she was here. I just wanted to try to get a better idea of when Lila might have broken in so we wouldn't have to go through as much security footage-"

"Wait, why did Alya come over?" Marinette interrupted, frowning in confusion. She hadn't borrowed anything from Alya recently, and normally Alya at least texted her to let her know if she was borrowing anything from Marinette for some reason while she wasn't home.

"I was getting to that, don't interrupt," Mrs. Cheng gently chided her. "Anyway, Alya seemed pretty surprised about us having a break-in... until I mentioned that it was Lila."

Marinette groaned. She was getting a sinking suspicion that she knew where this was going. "Please don't tell me that Alya let Lila in."

"...Alya let Lila in," Mrs. Cheng confirmed, sighing. "...on the plus side, at least she didn't pick her way in through our doors. I would be looking into swapping out our locks if that were the case."

"Why on earth would she think that that would be a good idea in any way?" Marinette exclaimed. "And- well, presumably she let Lila in and then just ran off instead of supervising her, which- even if Lila somehow made up some reason for having to stop by my room, why wouldn't Alya at least have the common sense to stay with her?"

"Well, from what Alya said, Lila said that she had loaned you something and you had forgotten to give it back, and she was worried about bringing it up and making you upset... because you might think that you had already returned it and think that she was trying to frame you. Or something." Mrs. Cheng pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly exasperated. "It sounded like Lila was making it sound like you two were starting to mend bridges. And I told Alya that Lila was found with a lock picking kit and some jewelry from your Nonna Gina in her pockets, but she's still insisting that it was all a misunderstanding. "

"How- how much did you tell Alya?" Marinette asked suddenly, brain all of a sudden dancing with pictures of Alya hearing about the trap and trying to dig into what, exactly, Marinette was trying to hide. She presumably had enough sense to not go digging through Marinette's things in hopes of an interesting discovery, especially considering how hurt Lila had gotten, but that didn't mean that Alya wouldn't incessantly ask her questions, and within hearing distance of other people, too.

Not that Lila probably wouldn't bring up the trap on her own- or would she? Why would she? There would be no way to talk about it without making herself look bad. But if Lila's reputation was tanking anyway, maybe she would bring it up just to make Marinette look bad, too.

"Not much," Mrs. Cheng assured her. "I didn't have to. I implied that Lila got into a locked box of sewing things and cut herself that way, which is very believable. Your fabric scissors are sharp, as are your rotary cutters, and it's not hard to believe that someone who wasn't familiar with that box might get themselves injured. I'm not going to tell your most inquisitive friend about your very mysterious and heavily-guarded trap box."

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief.

"On a related note, I suspect that Alya might not be very keen on coming over here for a while," Mrs. Cheng added. "I was not subtle about how irritated I was with her. And she just kept on digging her heels in more whenever I pointed out things that she wasn't considering or just flat-out missed." She paused, looking slightly sheepish. "And I may, before you got back, have insulted her investigative and observational skills. Just a little bit. I just got too mad about the fact that she fell for such an obvious lie and didn't even try to check with you about it before she went ahead and let Lila in."

Honestly, Marinette couldn't blame her mom for exploding. She couldn't believe that Alya would have done that- and apparently still thought that she was completely justified in doing it. If Lila hadn't gotten herself injured and had gotten away without being caught, who knew what sort of damage she could have caused or what information she might have gotten her hands on?

Frankly, if things had gotten to that point, once she realized what had happened, Marinette probably wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to pull out the Horse and Portal Lila to somewhere dangerous. The arctic, maybe, or the surface of the Moon. She wouldn't be able to cause trouble there.

After a pause, Mrs. Cheng nodded towards the couch. "Your box is there. I think the police said that it's currently disarmed, but be careful with it."

Marinette nodded, scooting around the table to grab the box off of the couch. She was planning on being super careful. After working so hard on the trap- well, she had once gotten a cut on her finger while she was assembling the booby trap, and that had been without any force behind it. She had no intention of becoming acquainted with those same blades with force behind them.

Besides, the box was completely safe when it was disarmed, and Marinette really didn't think that she was likely to ever just forget to disarm it, not with all of the safety measures she had deliberately built in. All that took was unlocking the second lock first- the crooked one that looked like it had been a mistake, or just a practice run on a spare piece of wood that ended up not being a spare piece- and then she could unlock the lid itself. There was a visible latch on the inside that would give away- to her- if the trap was set or not, and she always checked it just in case before sticking her hand in.

"I know how to open it safely and make sure that it's disarmed before I put my hand in," Marinette assured her mom. "After all, I designed it. I won't forget how to do it."

"Honestly, I figured that much. It wasn't a reassurance when I looked at the box at first because honestly, it doesn't look like an expertly engineered box." Mrs. Cheng smiled over at Marinette. "But that's deliberate, isn't it? No one would suspect that there's anything inside when it looks like a beginner's project."

"It was either make it look like that or try to make some sort of ornate box with a hidden key hole so that no one could figure out where the lock was, but- well, I don't have the time or skill to do that sort of carving." Marinette ran one hand over the box, remembering how much effort it had taken to make the box really solid and then go back and make it look like a beginner's project, ramshackle and not at all sturdy. If the person looking at the box knew anything about construction, the presence of the lock would probably give away the fact that she knew what she was doing, but Marinette was willing to bet that most people wouldn't know that. "It would have been cool, though. I've seen some locks online where people would never figure out how to open it unless they had been shown how, and that would have been nice."

Hawkmoth would probably just try to slice the box open then, but- well, if he did, he was in for a surprise. The wood might crack, but the enchanted metal underneath wouldn't budge.

"You've done quite a bit of research about this, then." Mrs. Cheng considered Marinette for a long moment, and she resisted the urge to squirm. "Honestly, there's a part of me that really wants to question the box and say no to you having it, because it's clearly dangerous- I mean, I saw the damage that it did to Lila- and even though I know you'll be careful, it's hard to be comfortable with the idea of that being in your room. But clearly you've been responsible with storing it, and I trust that you wouldn't have gone so far out of your way to get the materials and do the modifications to that trap if you didn't think it was important to protect whatever is in there." She took a deep breath, and Marinette could tell that her mom was severely torn about whatever she was about to say. "So your dad and I are going to allow it, and we won't ask about what you have in the box. Heaven knows you deserve some privacy."

Marinette let out a sigh of relief. "I- thank you."

"And- I didn't want to say anything over the phone, but the police had originally wanted to talk with you about why you had that trap on the box," Mrs. Cheng continued, and Marinette's heart dropped right back into her feet, the moment of relief gone. "Because- well, normally kids your age don't have stuff like that. But- oh, you should have seen it. Your dad got very puffed-up and huffy with them about how this was the second time in less than two years that a classmate of yours had been caught breaking into your room with ill intentions and were you not allowed to protect your things? And one of the police was Officer Raincomprix, so of course he was in a pretty big hurry to drop that line of questioning. Particularly when he was reminded that his daughter was the other classmate that had snuck in."

Marinette hastily muffled a laugh. She would have loved to see that, honestly. "And they didn't say that they would, like, come back later or anything?"

"Only to get a statement from you that Lila wasn't meant to be at our house at all. Your father and I discussed it, and- if it's all right with you- we'd like to pursue pressing charges. We've heard enough about Lila that we want to make sure that she won't be bothering you in the future. Breaking and entering is just- she's taken it too far. She's been taking it too far, and I apologize for both your dad and I that we haven't taken it seriously. No disorder is going to compel someone to target you to the degree that she has been, much less plot to break into your room." Mrs. Cheng shook her head, clearly disgusted at herself for having fallen for the lie. "At the very least, we want to look into getting a restraining order. That should keep her away from you."

"What if Lila spins some tale or tries to get sympathy and we can't get the order?" Marinette asked. Even with their evidence- well, from the sounds of it, Lila's hand was probably pretty mangled, and she didn't have the magical healing potion that Marinette kept on hand just in case to put it back to normal. "What if they decide that her hand is punishment enough?"

"Then we'll argue that." Mrs. Cheng's voice was firm. "If you testify about what Lila has been like, then the courts will know that she's likely to just go back to school and cry about her wrist to get sympathy. And they've seen people like her before, I'm sure. They're not going to be as easily fooled as your teachers and classmates and- well, and your dad and I."

Marinette swallowed and nodded. That would be nice. That would be really nice.

"And if they do- well, and even if they don't- I will be talking to Lila's mother. There's no way she knows what her daughter has been up to, if she still was letting her run around." Mrs. Cheng nodded once, sharp, and Marinette knew that there would be no stopping her mom now. She was determined to keep Lila away from Marinette and force her to see the consequences of her actions, and so it would happen.

Honestly, Marinette had the best parents ever.

Marinette let out a sigh of relief as she tucked the box back in its spot, piling the presents for Adrien back on top of it and shutting the lid of her storage bench. It locked with a thud and a sharp click, sounding sturdy and secure.

It was too bad that that was a lie. Marinette ran her fingers over the lock, wondering if she should try switching out the lock for a different style, something that would be harder- or, even better, impossible- to pick. It might be hard to do that without attracting attention, though, and if she messed it up?

It would be better to not have signs of tampering on her bench, just in case. Maybe she should practice with putting in and taking out locks on a bit of scrap wood first.

A blanket went over the bench, set at a jaunty angle, just casual enough that it didn't look arranged. Marinette's backpack went next to it, the perfect picture of nothing here to see.

And still Marinette worried her lip.

"It'll be fine, Marinette!" Tikki told her, zipping up next to her shoulder. "Downstairs is all locked up, the box is hidden, and the bench is locked. No one is going to be breaking in- and Lila is in the hospital anyway."

"I know, but..." Marinette trailed off, glancing around her room. Whenever someone entered her room without her consent- when Sabrina broke in, after Jagged Stone's camera wandered in while broadcasting live to all of Paris, and then now with Lila- she always felt thrown off kilter and uncomfortable, out of place and not as secure as normal in her own room. It wasn't ever a nice feeling.

She couldn't even safely leave her diary out in her room. Not her diary, not anything that might be the least bit valuable, not any signs of her crush or anything that might even hint at her double life. Maybe it would be a good idea to tuck those things away anyway, but there was a difference between having to simply put things away instead of leaving them out in the open and having to lock everything away under several layers of protection.

Marinette was starting to get the feeling that once she was older and had her own place, there would be a lot of personalization with false walls and hidden compartments where she could hide away- well, everything, really. All of the parts of her life that she might be at all leery of anyone finding out about.

It was always going to be a good idea to hide the Miraculous stuff, especially while Hawkmoth was active, but Marinette should be able to expect some measure of privacy in her own room. The fact that she apparently couldn't...

Maybe it was a better idea to not dwell on that too much. And, with any luck, they wouldn't have any trouble going forward. She and her parents had talked over dinner and come up with a new rule for letting in friends and classmates: all visits had to be approved by Marinette before they set foot through the door. If she let them in herself it was fine, of course, but if they came in through the bakery and wanted to be let up then Sabine had to have a text on her phone from Marinette approving it. There would be no more surprise visits from her friends- or at least no truly surprise visits, since she would at least get a couple minutes' warning from her mom's inquiry text- and no more people going up to her room when she wasn't there 'just to grab something really quickly, honest'. If someone tried to come over as a surprise and Marinette didn't see her mom's text right away- either because she was just busy or because she was out as Ladybug- then that was just too bad. They didn't just get to saunter up and poke around in her room unattended until she got back.

That- well, security reasons aside, it was a really good change. There had been multiple times lately when Marinette had been in the middle of trying to catch up on homework and one (or more) of her friends burst in and interrupted her, and that had both thrown her completely off and eaten up time that she really didn't have to spare because she felt bad about sending them away when they had come over to see her. There hadn't been any times yet where Marinette had been out as Ladybug and came back to find someone in her room, but, well, she couldn't get lucky forever. If they hadn't made the change, then it would probably only be a matter of time before Ladybug slipped into her room after a long fight and found Alya waiting there.

(That would be a disaster.)

"At least I hadn't gotten around to painting the trap with the poison that the Order sent me," Marinette commented after a pause, pushing away thoughts of her new visiting arrangements and how she really should have implemented them earlier for the time being. The poison was a new suggestion from the Order, something to completely ensure that Hawkmoth wouldn't be able to steal the Miraculous, and it was a suggestion that made her really, really nervous. She fiddled with one of the tassels on the blanket, then resolutely turned and headed up to bed. "The police might have been fine with the bear trap- if only barely- but a bear trap coated in poison? I would have gotten in so much trouble."

"I still think it would be a good idea to put it on," Tikki told her. "I know it ups the scary factor even more, but in case Hawkmoth finds the box and he doesn't pass out from the trap- or if it doesn't catch him as much as it sounds like it got Lila, since he might be expecting a trap!- then it should still keep him from getting away scot-free. You have the antidote and the healing potions, so you should still be safe!"

"In theory, at least." Sure, the Order had assured her that it would take some time for the poison to kick in, enough time for her to get to her remedies- a delay of sorts, followed by it absolutely flooring the unfortunate person affected- but that still depended entirely on her keeping her head long enough to actually get to them.

Maybe she needed to consider a rearranging of where things were so that there would be less distance between the box and the antidotes, just in case that very dangerous and (hopefully) very unlikely scenario of the box snapping shut on her ever happened.

Ugh. More things to do, as though she didn't already have enough on her plate. But Tikki was right- Hawkmoth was too much of a threat to keep putting off the secondary level of protection. She would just have to be super careful around the box- even more than she had been before- and prioritize getting her remedies located closer to the hidden Miracle Box.

That, and she definitely had to make sure that she kept her remedy up-to-date, no slacking and letting it come close to expiration. And, well, she had to make sure that she didn't use up the healing potion- the potion that would immediately reverse the damage from the trap in case something went wrong- with injuries that she got while sewing or tripping over her own feet.

At least she knew how to make the healing potion. As long as Marinette kept an eye on how much she had- and her (poorly) hidden supply of potion ingredients, those had to be next on her list of things to build hiding spots for after a new spot for the box and a close but not too close location for the remedies- and made sure to top it back up whenever she got low, using it for other injuries shouldn't be a problem.

"I'll tell Mom no babysitting next weekend, and do the poison then," Marinette said, realizing that she hadn't said anything for a minute. "If I do it right away and the police end up wanting to see it again, then that'll be an issue. If I give it a little time, then I won't end up putting the poison on and then having to take it right off again. And I need to get some more supplies- a dedicated paintbrush, and some gloves so that my skin doesn't come in contact with it at all."

Tikki nodded, approving. "I didn't think of that! That's a good thought. I think that should be fast enough. And it'll give you time to think about ways you can shake up your set-up so that no one else will know about it again!"

"The biggest changes there might have to wait to summer, honestly," Marinette admitted. The amount of work it would take to make a hidden cubby- and to make it fast enough that no one would notice it- would be absolutely insane, her biggest project yet. "But I'm sure that I can make some changes to up my security before then, and dream up improvements that I can make so that I'm ready to hit the ground running as soon as I have enough free time."

Her mind was whirring with more ideas already, actually. She would have to ask the Order to enchant more metal so to be Miraculous-resistant, pieces that she could put inside of the storage bench and keep it from being destroyed. If Hawkmoth (or his akumas) couldn't pick locks, that should be enough to stop him. And then if she practiced with taking out and putting locks in, then she could put in a lock like one she had seen online most recently, the one that had a hidden keyhole. Both improvements wouldn't affect her ability to get in- which was a good thing, since speed was super important during akuma fights- but should make things for difficult for anyone with nefarious intentions.

It would be a lot of work, of course, and might mean skipping out on a few outings with her friends to get things done quickly just in case, but she could make the Miracle Box safe and secure again. It might even end up helping her in the long run, since now she knew where the weak points in her security were and could fix them before they were put to the test by an akuma or Hawkmoth. Sure, it wasn't ideal that people knew about the box at all, but- well, it wasn't worth crying over spilled milk.

Marinette would come back from this, and she would come back stronger.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #Traps and Sneaks

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warmau · 5 years

Text

{Special} College!AU Shinwon

*this post was commissioned | find all my college aus here | commission info

major: media management

minor: rhetoric

sports: brags about how his long legs are perfect for volleyball, but screamed bloody murder when hongseok spiked the ball in his direction once so you could say,,,,,,,,shinwon’s not a sports person

clubs: drama club (less for the acting, more for the strutting), public speaking, and of course - it’s not a club per say - but the fashion department always loops him into helping them out as an impromptu model

shinwon,,,,,,,,,,really didn’t think he’d even end up going to college,,,,,,,,,,,,,

really he was sort of set on debuting as a model and working it out from there

but after a while, waiting around for work just got boring

so he left the agency he’d signed up with when he was still in highschool and applied to college

much to everyone's collective shock, his parents, sister, and himself included

hui: im so proud he took this step, you know shinwon is bright and im sure he’ll use his brain for good.

shinwon: exactly!

shinwon five seconds later: actually i just realized i have to do homework again and i think im going to drop out?

hongseok: i knew it

shinwon’s reputation is all over the place - he’s kind of known as being messy, beautiful beyond comprehension sure,,,,,

but he’s messy messy

from his dorm room

cluttered with magazines he’s been featured in, his guitar stands, vinyls which no one understands why he buys like this is the twenty-first century ......, and clothing strewn from the lampshade

to his dating history

pretty sure he’s had a hook up with someone from every department available on campus like pre-meds, literature, music, hell even someone in egyptology was smitten by his good looks

and of course ,,,,, his personality

from playing childish tricks on tired masters student jinho, to owning the student held fashion shows with impeccable grace and posture

yuto affectionately refers to shinwon as a rubix cube made of spikes, flowers, and a little bit of hot sauce

shinwon thinks it’s such a compliment, he tries to lean over and grab yuto in for a kiss

(which is refused with an almost punch to the face)

he’s definitely a force on campus and is famous for different reasons with different people

but if there’s one thing shinwon has learned from life it’s that he really cannot stand to give two shits about what people say about him behind his back

not like he’s going to hear it anyway

and he’s blunt to the point where it’s sometimes too much and hongseok on occasion (many occasions) has had to just pick shinwon’s six foot tall body up

and carry him out - as shinwon continues to spew well-deserving facts at whoever it is that tried to start with him

(or any of his friends. someone once made an offhanded comment about yeoone who is way too nice to say anything and shinwon just stopped in and turned on his gucci boots heel to be like “come again?”)

loves when cute shy freshmen get all nervous around him like

“oh my god, he looks like a marble statue! wasn’t he on that one magazine? he’s so pretty~ he must be so cool~”

shinwon: basking in it

hongseok: trying so hard not to tell them about how shinwon is nothing close to cool

has the worst diet imaginable - lives on fast food

and he does NOT work out which adds more confusion

pre-meds will be like “hey,,,,,,so,,,,,,,,,do you have like ibs or something? or is your stomach literally made of iron?”

and shinwon just slaps his scrawny tummy and is like “i don’t know man, but this machine runs smoothly!”

more clothes than he knows what to do with - likes brand names, but cannot afford them unless he has gigs - says he doesnt but totally owns a cheap tracksuit that he lazes around in during campus holidays

backpack covered in old rock band pins

always steals his classmate's pencils

notes stained with coffee

binders unorganized, lost his textbook at a nightclub

really again - does not look like he belongs in college LOL

does media management because it still keeps him in the loop of fashion, but without all the actual drawing and sewing

because no one trusts him near a sewing machine or fabric scissors

the rhetoric minor was a big surprise - but shinwon just goes

“i get grades for talking good”

jinho, twitching: “talking well. you can’t say “talking good”

shinwon: “talking sexy ;) hahaha”

jinho: ill kill him

he is an enigma with a shit-eating grin ,,,,,,,

but he’s also hot. and has perfect proportions,,,,,,,,,,

you,,,,,,,are a fashion major,,,,,,,,who knows the legends about ko shinwon

about how he’s nothing but fire to play with

that being said

you are absolutely, utterly, one hundred percent, totally infatuated with him

he’s been your muse since you first stepped into the fashion building and saw him making his way down the hall

half of someones finished project still pinned to his shoulders, messy orange hair pulled up with bobby pins and that smile

almost,,,,,, angelically,,,,,, twisted?

you had no idea how to describe it - but you had remembered him and even though you knew no one else's name yet

he was the person you could visualize in an instance

you’d learned his name at your first student held fashion show, where to your dismay he had already been picked by someone else to be their model

and they’d skipped past calling out for him

“shinwon~”

you repeated it again on your lips in a small whisper “shinwon”

it was unique, it was different, and you really really started liking it

everything about him was unique, different, and you can guess,,,,,,,,you were really starting to like him

not like you would ever act on it though

shinwon seemed untouchable, not because he was standoffish - actually he seemed like he’d be super easy to get along with

it was because he was just,,,,,,,,he was just so ,,,,,,, unusual

and you wouldn’t consider yourself a shining star, you were like everyone else

waking up, doing your schoolwork, trying your best to breakthrough in fashion

you had a small group of friends - you had your regular hangout spots - your favorite kind of coffee flavor

you were simple, you would say, and shinwon was not

that’s why he gave you so much inspiration

if you were one speck in the galaxy, he was like a whole milkyway

you had started off just admiring from afar, but as time went back you started sketching too

at first it was what you could conjure from your memories of him

the flashes of him around the fashion department, when you saw him in the library, the orange hair - the sparkling oak brown eyes - the over-the-top outfit he pulled off effortlessly

and when you think you’d filled up half of your sketchbook with stills of him

you started to envision him in your designs

actually, you had lied, you were a simple person

but your mind was not - you might have stuck to simple tones and patterns in your wardrobe

but when it came to clothes you made, you were vibrant and loud and risky

some of your professors had initially mixed up your work, thinking your submitted designs were someone elses

because well ,,,,,,,,,,,,, they just didn’t match

your designs were for someone,,,,,,,,,,,,,,someone like shinwon

bursting with confidence, immune to shame, always ready for a thrill

your goal had quickly went from being able to saying hi to him in the hallway

to one day having him wear an original creation of yours

but getting shinwon as your model was a feat

either he wasn’t doing the show at all, or he was everyone elses number one pick

with long, lithe limbs and an almost wonderland like face

that is ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, until the final project for the semester came up

you were expecting it all to go as usual

the older fashion majors would get first dibs on their models - someone would pick shinwon (if he was even showing up)

and you’d only have to go back to drawing him with your designs rather than seeing them come to life

but to your almost painstakingly obvious shock

that was not the case

shinwon did volunteer to model for the final project - but,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,no one was picking him

actually - everyone was actively avoiding him

and when your turn came around you couldn’t believe you were finally getting to say it

“i’ll pick ko shinwon.”

suddenly there was a swarm of muffled whispers - you couldn’t hear anything clearly but as shinwon strode over to you

he gave you a once over and winked - and the was enough to make your entire body flare up

after everyone got settled with their models, you were shaking with anticipation as shinwon slipped into the seat across from you

“are you cold or am i just so handsome you can’t help shivering?”

he jokes, running a hand through his hair for added effect

“y-yes”

you answer, stupidly unsure of what else to say

he lets out a laugh, leaning over to pat the top of your head which once again sends you into a blank

“cute, so - let’s see what you’ll be dressing me up in huh?”

he leans over and you flounder as you flip to the page with the outfit you’ve chosen to create for your final

it’s inspired by 80s punk and glam - rhinestones, spikes, rainbows

shinwon’s eyes light up when he sees it and he looks at you with a giant smile

“where have you been all my life - this is totally my style!”

i know,,,,,i made it thinking about you,,,,,,,,,,,

is what you want to say - but you just stutter over your words instead

“o-oh, im glad you like it,,,”

he nudges at your elbow and you think electricity rides up your spine

“can’t wait to wear it! by the way-”

he moves his body, gracefully around the table so he’s standing beside you now

it makes everything else melt away as he leans in closer to your face with his own

“don’t listen to what people say about me - and trust me, ok?”

it’s,,,, cryptic - and in the moment you had no clue what he was talking about - but he’s your muse

and he’s inches too close to you

so really - it goes over your head as you nod with moonstruck stars in your eyes

shinwon says his goodbyes and tells you to text him when you want to do measurements

you only realize after he’s gone that,,,,,,,,,,you don’t have his number

so you approach an upperclassmen who usually works with him and politely ask if she might have it

she stops what she’s doing and sighs

“you really picked shinwon for your final project - you’re crazy!”

you look around - not sure if she’s really talking to you - until she huffs

“this is the final - you can’t rely on someone like him!”

someone like him?

“wh-why not, he’s done other shows?”

she shakes her head

“other shows aren’t the final project. he might just not show up on the day or he might get the clothes dirty. he’s fun when there are no consequences but you know this is worth fifty percent of our grade right?”

you’re left sort of speechless and she just mutters that she pities you as she scribbles down the number in your sketchbook and hands it back to you

you turn and realize other students are eyeing you from their station

a lot of them are already doing measurements on their models, while yours

well shinwon just left

you hadn’t stopped him - he just said he had to go

you feel something twist in your stomach but you ignore it

he had said it right - not to listen, and to trust him

the first couple of weeks go by,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, perfectly

you finally suck it up after typing and deleting a text to shinwon about measurements

spending nearly half a day trying to come up with a casual and cool way of asking

and all you get in response is a misspelled “yeha” from him when you make a date and time

you think it’s goofy and cute

and shinwon does show up

charming, joking, making you embarrassed and happy all in the same breath as you take his measurements

wiggling his eyebrows when you ask him to take his shirt off for the chest measurement

excitedly rambling about this underground show he’s seeing on the weekend

mind you - you and him haven’t ever had a conversation before this

shinwon just naturally opens up - having no problem doing the talking as you either 1) stare at him like a puppy or 2) nod enthusiastically in agreement to whatever he’s saying

you’re pretty sure he can tell how much you admire him and with anyone else you’d be dead from the shyness

but with him it’s like,,,,,,,,,it’s like he’s a celebrity to you

so it’s not that bad to be so so so enamored

his flirting doesn’t come off as anything romantic either, just part of his persona

and despite those doubts from other students

“he could just now show up” “he isn’t super reliable” “he might go to a party and just forget in the morning to show up!”

it doesn’t happen - when you need him, shinwon is there

and it’s like a dream come true - watching your outfits slowly come to life on his perfect figure

there is a hiccup at some point

shinwon agrees to meet you on a thursday evening for some help - you had initially been shy about asking him to come and look at fabrics with you

you don’t really ask models for that kind of advice

but when you’d mentioned - he’d been the one to get all giddy at the thought

and, with your heart over the moon, you waited outside the fashion building

for two hours

your phone was barren of any texts - any calls

and even though it hit 10 pm and the store was closed - you stuck it around for a little while

but he ,,,,,,,,,, didn’t show up

it’s fine! he probably had to cram for an exam or something - he seems like the type to push studying to the last minute

you make up the excuse and nod to yourself, happy with the conclusion you’ve drawn

pushing down any doubt that might have tried to bubble up

and it’s just a hiccup - because shinwon bumps into you three days later and snaps his fingers

“AH! we were supposed to go shopping right? i totally forgot! please forgive me! shinwon has been a bad boy!”

he clasps his hands together and pouts and you laugh, telling him it’s totally fine

yuto and jinho who are beside him look confused and so shinwon introduces you as you shyly hand over your sketchbook

because shinwon insists you show his friends your outfit planned

“wow, you’re so talented - these look so much like shinwon.”

yuto compliments, flipping to some of the old drawings you had of shinwon

you forgot about them and try to stutter out an excuse but shinwon is already sticking his nose between the pages with wonder

“woah! you’ve drawn me so much!”

you clasp your hands together - awkward and shy

jinho takes note of the way you can’t help but smile as shinwon continues to muse about how much he likes your drawings

and when you finally get your sketchbook back - shinwon promises he will never forget when you ask him to do something again

he does this by taking your hands in his own and giving them a squeeze

you’re so happy you can’t even speak and again,,,,,,,,,,,,jinho takes note of that

as you scurry past them - realizing you’re late for class now, he turns to shinwon with a tilt of his head

“they seem really sweet. are you sure you’re being nice to them?”

shinwon rolls his eyes

“im always nice”

“no - you did forget to go shopping with them.”

shinwon puffs out his chest with a whine

“because i woke up on the roof at like 5pm - i didn’t remember my own name hyung. now stop grilling me about it - they weren’t mad and so why are you?”

jinho pulls his lips back into a tight line - yuto breaks the tension with a question about lunch and shinwon ignores the side glances jinho still throws his way

you really aren’t mad, just like shinwon said

because he shows up when you ask him to for some extra measurements and test runs on the runway

he’s the same silly, weird, and lovely boy as usual

playing with the sleeves of the half-finished top piece you’re working on -

showing you the new candy bracelet he got

putting his arm around you when he leans over to look at your new sketches

knowing damn well your head goes spinning

“you’re cute when you get all nervous - do you really think im that handsome?”

he makes the joke again and you try to answer but all you can squeak out is “yes?”

he even offers to make it up to you for not showing up - the offer is to go to mcdonalds but it’s still sweet - and you assure him it’s fine, you’re not angry - not at all

but ,,,,,,,, the happiness of those moments with him dulls as more and more hiccups begin to happen

he texts you that he can’t make it to the practice runway - he’s sick

you understand

then he doesn’t text you or tell you anything on the next one - you don’t have your model and all the students shake their head with pity at you

the final date approaches faster

and shinwon,,,,,,,,,,,,,goes ghost

you don’t want to be that person and over text him - but you have to, this is about your grade

suddenly the worries you’d been told about in the beginning of all this start coming true

maybe he got super sick - i should ask his friends, but i don’t know them that well - did i do something wrong?

you don’t get it - every day without word from him is another day closer to the final runway

it stresses you out and you notice the acne coming in - the refusal to eat because it makes your stomach sick

you’re running across campus because you’ve pulled another allnighter working on your designs and fell asleep on accident

when you slam right into someones chest

your books go flying, the yogurt you had bought falls and explodes somewhere behind you

and when you look up you see ------- what was his name ------ jinho?

“oh gosh, im so sorry”

you mutter, leaning down to get your things

jinho realizes you’re scrambling and he helps you - for which you bow over ten times and apologize again for bothering him

but before you continue on your run he asks you, much to your shock

“have you seen shinwon?”

your face pales and you can’t move forward even though you know class has started

you shake your head slowly and jinho lets out a sigh

“how long has it been?”

“maybe two weeks....”

“ah. ill talk to him.”

you perk up - and then just as instantly your shoulders sag - you shouldn’t be so excited over someone whose been ignoring you for no apparent reason

“no it’s ok-”

“isn’t he supposed to be helping you with your project. it’s not ok - he’s being a brat.”

you don’t want to argue because jinho is older and closer to shinwon, but you also don’t want it to seem like you’re begging for his help

“please,,,,,just ask him if i did something wrong?”

you look into jinho’s eyes and it clicks for him

“you like shinwon don’t you?”

your books fall out of your hands again and this time it’s not because you’ve been knocked over

you just don’t know how to answer the sudden question - because you really,,,,,,,,,,,,don’t know

“he’s my muse.”

you start

“and im just,,,,,,,i just don’t want to lose that.”

jinho leans down to help with your books again, he gives you one last look before turning and heading toward the dorms

you don’t even bother getting to class anymore - you just drag yourself to the workrooms in the fashion department and sit beside your final project

it looks much less extravagant on the mannequin then it does on shinwon

and when you open your sketchbook it flips to one of your first drawings you ever did of him

it hurts to think about him.....not even because of my grades......but because........

you shake your head and lay it down on the table

no, you always have to remember what you say. you’re a small tiny star - that boys a milkyway.

jinho finds shinwon in the bathroom of the dorm, the ramones are blasting from his phone and he’s got his hands covered in black hair dye

jumping when he sees his older friend, shinwon grumbles that jinho should at least knock

but jinho crosses his arms, stern gaze unwavering on shinwon

“why are you ignoring that sweet fashion major who obviously idolizes you?”

“im not ignoring them - they’re ignoring me.”

shinwon points a finger

“and no one ignores me, you know this.”

he turns to look at himself in the mirror - making a face as the old orange goes back to his natural thick black

jinho cocks an eyebrow

“really? i just bumped into them and the poor kid looks like a mess.”

“are you saying im lying - look at my phone!”

jinho picks it up from where it’s charging on the bathroom sink

“this isn’t your phone........ is it new?”

“yeah - my last gig gave it to me along with some free clothes, my old ones on my desk but im using this one now”

he scrolls through the texts messages, gagging at some of them, and he finds what he can only assume is your number

it doesn’t have your name - all it says is

“cutest fashion major ive met in a hot minute”

jinho opens the messages and ,,,,,, it’s true - shinwon has sent an abundance of texts to you but ,,,,,,, none of them are answered

it takes three minutes for jinho to figure out what’s going on

he picks up shinwon’s old phone - find your contact (saved with the same corny name) and opens it

shinwon typed your number in..................wrong

and in his old phone are the messages from you that going unanswered

jinho groans

“ko shinwon - you’re an idiot.”

shinwon pokes his head out of the bathroom - “i know that, but what did i do this time?”

you pick your head up after what seems like hours - drool embarrassingly on the edge of the workroom table

did i fall asleep here? guess i missed more than one class.......

you stretch and look down at your sketchbook with tired eyes

“oh you’re awake?”

you jump at the sound of the voice and nearly fall out of your chair when you see shinwon sitting across from you

he’s,,,,,,,,,he’s got black hair now - and he’s not wearing his usual outrageously expensive outfits

he’s just got a flannel over some simple jeans

the sleeves are rolled up and you see those candy bracelets he loves making, the silver rings you’ve sketched on his hands a million times over

“sh-shinwon?”

“wanna hear something hilarious?”

he pulls his phone out and grins

“i was texting the wrong number for a whole two weeks - the person must think im insane! well,,,,,,,,they wouldn’t be wrong.”

you don’t understand - you look down at the screen and see the contact name

“cutest fashion major-”

“ah ah ah don’t look at that - look at the texts.”

he waves his hand and you read them one by one

“hey - do you need me for measurements? you know my body is always ready!” “hey hey hey” “doesn’t a designer need their model?” “are you mad at me? did i do something dumb when i was drunk and i dont remember?” “heeeeeeeelllllllllloooooooo?” “ill make it up to you~ shinwon was a bad boy wasn’t he?” “hey, is everything alright?”

you still don’t really understand - you look up and shinwon is resting his cheek on his palm

“i got a new phone which is why i wasnt getting your texts and you weren’t getting mine.”

something that feels better then relief washes over you

“o-oh, i thought you just ,,,,,,,,, you just didn’t want to help me anymore?”

shinwon makes a dramatic noise and jumps up from his seat - pointing at the outfit on the mannequin

“and miss out on wearing THAT masterpiece, never!”

he rounds the table

“it’s the best design ive ever seen - from the people here and from the magazine shoots ive done.”

he looks at you and for the first time they’re not those crazy, sparkling with mischief eyes

they’re almost,,,,,,,,,,,,soft

“i really love it. i won’t let you down.”

suddenly the stress and the tiredness that had hung over you seems to vanish

you get up to and smile up at him

“well then - i should finish it quick. i won’t let you down either!”

shinwon grins and when he reaches over to ruffle your hair like he’s done many times before

it’s like gravity refuses to let him - instead all the wires in his brain connect and he puts his hand on your shoulder gently

tugging you into his chest and into a hug

he smells like ,,,,,,,, fresh laundry and there’s the residual lingering from the hair dye

but there’s also the smell of his skin and the warmth of his tall frame

it sends an earthquake through you - but it makes you feel safe too

and shinwon,,,,,,,,,,,,shinwon can’t believe that there’s someone on this earth who fits so perfectly into his arms

for the first time in...............ever ...........shinwon pulls away and misses the feeling instantly

he doesn’t show it - he starts blabbering to forget the mess starting up in his brain

and you are content, as always, to go along with him

shinwon feels like something has taken him over when he offers to walk you to your dorm and you think nothing of it

waving goodbye as you go inside and some students pass by shinwon in awe

ko shinwon,,,,,,,,walked someone home? and is staring at the spot they just stood in with - is that - is that -?

this time shinwon keeps to his promise - actually he probably goes up and beyond that

he even starts asking if he can come over and see your progress

sitting beside you as you work - much to the shock of everyone else

because,,,,,,,, shinwon is never one to sit still

he’s there for measurements, the show, and then he’s out

doing whatever it is he does on campus

someone asks you about it - but you just go “he wanted to come!”

it doesn’t seem all that remarkable to you - you’re just happy to see he’s proven everyone who doubted and didn’t pick him wrong

you start to talk more too, you get excited as the final project comes to a close and the day of the fashion show approaches

you explain to shinwon the colors you chose, the fabrics, the inspo

and he stares at you in wonder this time

but you just can’t wait to see him under the lights - glittering like the beautiful model he is

on the day of the show - you’re excited to see your friends and even some of shinwon’s show up

and as you get ready behind the stage - tailoring the pieces to sit just perfect on shinwon

he watches your fingers work and your concentration and you apologize when you lean in to apply some makeup to his eyes

but he just welcomes it - your touch which was just like everyone elses when this started

feels like heaven all of a sudden

you hear your professor call out the order for the models - shinwon is last and it makes you nervous but you’re also happy because

this outfit is showstopper - it’s shinwon to a T

and it deserves to be the best, so it should be saved for last

you fix one of the lapels and make sure shinwon’s accessories are in order before you take his hands in yours

you look into his eyes - it’s dark behind the curtains but shinwon sees you clear as day

“thank you - you’re the only person who could wear what i’ve made. shinwon, you’re my muse.”

you breathe as you say the word - the word you’ve wanted to say for so long now

“im your muse?”

“yes, im honored to make this outfit for you. and im so happy you worked with me. i couldn’t have done it without you. you look so beautiful-”

shinwon can’t stop what comes over him

it’s not stupid lust like it usually is with him - it’s another worldly force this time

it’s what they sing about in all those love songs - all those songs about wanting to be connected to someone

“no - you look beautiful.”

he presses his lips to yours before you can finish your sentence

and his name is called out for the order

he rushes to the line and you

you are frozen - unsure of what just happened

am in a movie? did shinwon just ,,,,,,,,,,,, kiss me?

you can’t even process it - one of your classmates comes and tugs you toward the audience

you look over your shoulder and shinwon is staring at you from the line

oh my god - i think shinwon just kissed me for real.

the fashion show is a haze - you want to pay attention, but you keep touching your lips

it’s not until the shinwon steps out into the limelight and struts with everything he’s got

flaunting your design, making it move and sparkle just like you had seen in your vision

the crowd all let out a wave of oohs~ and the professors who are judging seem to be impressed

and when he makes his way to the turn - he spots you - the background music seems to stop

the people seem to disappear

he was fucking right - you are beautiful

you get rave reviews on your outfit - people flock to you after the show to ask about it

you want to answer questions and thank everyone - but you are looking for him

you’re looking for shinwon

who is in turn, looking for you - ignoring the people who try to get in his way

he pulls you out from the conversation - waving off the complaints of others

and tugs you through the crowded stage until you guys are alone - stuffed into a corner of costume racks and abandoned makeup stations

“shinwon why did you-”

“am i just your muse? am i just someone you idolize - or do you - do you -”

he has never struggled this much in his life

you’re looking at him with such purity that it feels overwhelming as he puts his hands on your face and kisses you again

you melt into it and he eats it up - until you’re caught by stagehands who usher you annoyingly back out into the mess of people

jinho, yuto, hongseok and hui who came to see shinwon spot you guys and jinho’s eyes avert right to your hand - in shinwon’s

he smiles - he knew all along

because yes, you looked at shinwon like he was the only man in the world but

jinho had never seen shinwon text someone seven times in a row

and he sure as hell had never seen shinwon reject an oncoming hookup like he had for the past couple of weeks

“so - something you want to tell us?”

hongseok asks, and hui looks at you and then at shinwon

shinwon shrugs

“nah not really, just that ,,,,,,,,,,, well,,,,,,,,,,,”

he shakes your hands a little and you go red

“looks like ko shinwon is off the market! sorry ladies and gentlemen - i think ive found,,,,,,,,,,,,what’s a word for it,,,,,,,,,,,,,, my muse?”

so dating shinwon,,,,,,,,,is like a whole new world for you

you were always so sure you’d be a secret admirer - at most someone who got to work with him

but now you were like ,,,,,,, you were his significant other ,,,,,,,,,,

you were basically like an overnight star

you showed up the next morning after the fashion show and everyone was just like

“YOU LOCKED DOWN SHINWON? KO SHINWON? HOW? WAS IT MAGIC?”

shinwon is so dramatic you know he opened up his contacts and deleted nearly everyone he’d ever fooled around with and you’re like

that’s not necessary and he’s like

“once im committed im committed. i should delete hui’s number too i think he has a crush on me”

hui in his composition class: my shinwon senses are telling me im being clowned

no one knew,,,,,,,shinwon could love someone so hard

for most of his life he’s taken everything happy-go-lucky, he’s always just lived by the flow

but now he’s like ,,,,,,,,,, he’s like a changed person

you are the only thing he seems to put real effort into

which you actually know isn’t true, shinwon takes modeling seriously and although his studying is slacking

you are there to encourage him

because jinho and hongseok poking at him for never doing his homework is not going to get shinwon a degree

so you offer to help him study and your first dates consist on you trying to get him from a D to at least a C+ in most of his classes

he probably doesn’t even know how to properly use excel so you’re like babe let me

as you date him, you realize that the uniqueness you fell for in the first place stays true with shinwon

there’s so much more to him - like his musical talents and his secret nerdiness

and also the anxiety that sometimes spikes in his throat and that he plays off but that now,,,,,,,,,now he has someone who’ll take these thing seriously

you can see it - when he can’t figure out his schoolwork or when a gig gets canceled on him

the furrow of his brow - the silliness gone from his face and in the beginning he tries to keep up appearances

but you just pull his long body down to yours and you tell him that nothing in this world is going to stop him from being successful

“you were born to shine, shinwon. it’s why i saw you for a second and never forgot”

“babe.............omg you had a crush on me from first sight?”

“im trying to be serious ko shinwon”

him wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you in closer “i know but like oooo a crush on me hehe you’re so cute”

you: rolling your eyes but also it’s true,,,,,,kinda

he gives you a tour of the infamous madhouse dorm - stock full of vinyls, his guitar, and brand name clothes on the floor

you’re kinda like “ooo this is cute” picking up a sweater off the floor and he’s like that’s versace i think?

you: and it’s on the floor

shinwon, shrugging: i ran out of hangers

oh my god shopping for anything with shinwon is a trip he somehow always tries to buy something that’s shiny and not useful and you’re like hey hey no

you become his impulse control - like at least 75% of it. the other 25% is jinho yelling at him over the phone

he’s such a cutie pie he loves making those candy bracelets with little rainbow charms and he makes some for you with your favorite song lyrics

which he hums as he puts on your wrist

and you promise not to take it off - which shinwon is more proud about then he should be

gives you nose kisses a lot - ruffles your hair a lot - asks you to sit on his lap and you’re like no we’re in public

loves it when you sit behind him and put your hands in his hair as he flips through the tv channels or plays a video game

won’t admit how much it kinda turns him on when you tug it - but you learn

you once are making out and shinwon keeps trying to tug at your shirt and you’re just like “listen to me shinwon, stop rushing me.” and oooooooooh my gooooooooooood

he thinks he sees stars

you most of the time: his precious angel who he can make all blushy with just some cheesy words

you also: bosses him around and points out his bullshit (which he is very into)

you and shinwon probably rock halloween parties - even though you’re not to big on the whole scene - you make the costumes and they’re killer and shinwon is just like

“they made this. for me. only me. only i get to wear the clothes they made”

complains about how when you’re a rich famous designer everyone else is gonna get to wear your masterpieces

makes you promise you’ll make exclusive outfits just for him

he does the MOST embarrassing thing ever

he marches into the fashion dept workroom one afternoon and he’s like “everyone, psa: when im a model i want to by chosen by ONE person and ONE person only - you know who!”

he winks your way and the whole room (including you) groans

like no one was planning on it anyway shinwon - he just lives for theatrics doesn’t he

his modeling gigs usually last a long time and go late into the night and he doesn’t expect you to stay up or anything

maybe send a text and a photo or whatever

but when he comes back to the dorms and you’re waiting in his bed wearing one of his led zepplin tshirts he just

he just gets all giddy - can’t keep his hands to his damn self

but also shinwon is a bad texter to everyone

but you

you get constant updates and constant photos which are demanded to become your phone background now

hongseok told you to change it to hui as a joke once but you guys were both like

no,,,,,,,shinwon might actually cry

jinho basically adores you because you actually do your work and try to help improve shinwon

but he’s also big brother mode where he’s like shinwon you better not screw this up or i will end you :)

yuto silently agrees - so does basically everyone else

jealous shinwon is ,,,,,,, like a yappy baby puppy

wooseok visits campus - a younger friend of the groups and he doesn’t know you’re dating shinwon

but he thinks you’re SOOOOOOO cute and tells everyone and shinwon just goes huffy like

“no. mine.” and wooseok is like oh ok-

shinwon: “see my phone wallpaper - it’s us kissing. see these sneakers - it was a gift from them on our anniversary - see this bracelet on their wrist? i made it and -”

everyone: OK SHUT UP

you finished your old sketchbook and you wanted to throw it out - but shinwon salvaged it and sometimes he opens it and traces the sketches you did of him

and he just,,,,,,,,,,feels so good knowing you’ve loved him for a while - and he thought he’d never have something so real and powerful

you once jokingly tell shinwon as you’re sitting cross-legged across from him in the park that you used to say you were a tiny star and he was a milkyway

and he just blinks and shakes his head

“no - if im a milkyway, you’re my entire galaxy.”

and then hung his head because OK CORNY but it’s true,,,,,,it’s so true

shinwon is always opening up the world for you - from music to art to whatever

he’s still your muse - even if he’s your boyfriend

but now instead of having to see him from all these miles away - like he’s some untouchable force

he’s sitting beside you

strumming on his guitar, hair messy and only an arms length away

you lean over and kiss his neck and he chuckles as he continues to play and you continue to sketch

only to realize some things never change

the page full of shinwon, and his heart is full of you ~

#pentagon scenarios #pentagon au #pentagon imagines #shinwon scenarios #shinwon imagines #shinwon au #shinwon #pentagon #ptg scenarios #ptg au #ptg imagines #college au #writing commissions #this really ......... helped me

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morshtalon · 4 years

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Dragon Quest II

Well, it's been a while since I wrote a review on something. I've played a number of games in the meantime, but none of them really gave me anything I felt was worth talking about or that hasn't been talked about before, so I just keep them in the backburner of my mind for possible future reference.

However, I feel like current circumstances make for a good time to dig up one of the games I wanted to share my thoughts on for a long time, and that I had beaten before even writing the first review I've ever "published". That game is Dragon Quest II.

Part of the reason why I held off on it for so long is that I don't think my review of the first game is all that great, and another part is that, again, I don't feel like I've bunched up enough good stuff to say, even though I really wanted to talk about it ever since I played it.

But hey, by far and wide my post popular post is technically related to Dragon Quest II, so why not cut to the chase and do it, right?

Anyway, to say that the first game took off in popularity is an understatement, it being the seminal harbinger of an entire genre of gaming that would soon take the world by storm. You would think that means this would be the time-old tale of "runaway success game making company executives pressure developers into slaving away at a sequel with suffocating deadlines". However, planning for DQII apparently began before DQI was released. 1986 was a different time, I guess. A time when the industry was fledgling enough that it wasn't that much more than a group of dudes banding together to bring an idea to life, and then - not a moment of hesitation after that idea comes to fruition - immediately start brainstorming ways in which they can build on it to give birth to new, more complex explorations of the concepts they had just tackled.

I believe this is why it's good to go back and play these games in their original versions, in chronological release order. Nowadays, it's virtually impossible to innovate. Back then, almost every big-time franchise was always finding ways to breathe fresh air into the structure of their games. Though Dragon Quest isn't the most innovative when compared to the likes of Final Fantasy, they were still making great strides into the codification of the type of game they had pioneered. With that knowledge in mind, one can really appreciate the evolution by going back and exploring these things as they grew with the times. And hey, Final Fantasy still wasn't around by the time DQII came out, so once again, they had to rely on ideas from western RPGs they liked.

In my opinion, II is the first jRPG that actually feels good to play, if you can put yourself into the mindset of an 80's gamer. The designers felt the 1v1 battles of the first title were boring - a sentiment which I share - and put in different groups of enemies as well as extra party members for you to find. One thing that some of these old RPGs that only let you target a group of enemies does is drawing only one enemy sprite on-screen to represent the entire group. Surprisingly, this game does not do that, even though it predates all the ones that do. It draws every enemy on-screen, which doesn't seem like much nowadays, but it's very appreciated nonetheless. Sure, it came at the cost of battle backgrounds (all fights in this game are set against pure blackness), but they did the right thing. The party itself follows what would become a typical archetype of 3-person groups: One character who is a jack-of-all-stats, balanced between physical prowess and magic, one who is focused on physical combat (in this game, this character actually has no magic capabilities whatsoever), and one who is a pure mage. Perhaps surprisingly, because these structures hadn't become tropes yet, the main character is the physical one, and he's also pretty much the most reliable party member by a reasonable margin, even though all he can do is attack normally. Balance issues aside (we'll talk about that later), I honestly sort of dig this arrangement. It's a little bit of a breath of fresh air to see the main character in an RPG rely completely on his weapons, and in the future, in any DQ title that has a reasonable degree of character customization, I always try to make the protagonist a physical powerhouse, to match the one from this game. It hardly ever works, but hey, it just goes for show that I enjoyed it while playing. Given that the other party members join you as you progress through the game at specific points, that also means the complexity of magic spells is added to your arsenal slowly, getting you used to it without feeling overwhelming. Sure, the game is simple enough that it wouldn't be overwhelming regardless of how they had set up the pacing, but I never felt like any of the times I struggled were because of insufficient knowledge of the game mechanics. So, the battles are fun enough, and they feel just right in terms of complexity vs. focus. The strategies to win are simple - really, the whole game is very simple - but it does its job well, and it allowed the developers to have near-perfect control of the game's difficulty curve. As a result, it is also - almost up to the end of the game - pretty nice, even if the whole thing is on the challenging end of things. At the end, it gets... A little special. We'll get to that later.

Let's take a step back and look at the gameplay outside battles. First of all, the story is... sparse, to say the least. Not as much as the one in the first game, and supplemented in the international version by a frankly kick-ass introduction that gives the experience a certain tone and atmosphere I appreciate a lot, but still, it's 1987. jRPGs were... not so much about the story back then, if you can believe that. In fact, they were more like an extension of a point-and-click adventure game. DQII is, essentially, a big fetch quest. In a different story, one that has enough plot points that you can sense a type of underlying narrative progression, I would not enjoy having the game interrupted by a blatant collectathon. However, the fetch quest aspect is basically the soul of this entire game. The extremely loose story paves the way for an experience that boils down to pure exploration and combat, with light elements of puzzle-solving woven in, using the fetch quest premise simply as a background to leave the developers with fertile soil to plant their little tricks and enigmas without worrying too much about how it would all connect rationally. And here, we witness an aspect of old games that could only spring about as a byproduct of limited graphics, ill-defined representations of the setting's reality, and a healthy disregard for common sense, things that were the style at the time. The puzzles, and sometimes just the exploration, violate logic quite heavily. Traversing through a monster-infested castle to get to a point that is technically outside the castle, but you can't just walk around it because most of the outside grass tiles are exit tiles that warp you back to the world map? Sure, why not? Having dedicated "teleport-room" maps that only serve the explicit purpose of housing a teleporter to another part of the world, except for one which also houses a chest with an essential item if you walk along the right border of the map, but not the identical-looking left one? Mario 2 hid a goal post inside a secret too, so yeah! Throw that in! Stairs down in a brick islet surrounded by water which brings you to a room that's... Also at water level? We hardly have enough tiles to go around, let alone a set to represent underwater or underground rooms, so whatever! Nobody cares! And, honestly, I truly don't care, either. If a game is up to, let's say, willfully forgo a bit of logic in order to formulate a creative puzzle to play around with your expectations, then all the more power to it. I honestly feel like puzzles nowadays are too sectioned-off, contained within a single room in a single dungeon, ready for the player to walk in, solve it, move on to the next point in the flowchart and never think about it twice. When puzzles are woven in so closely with the world, requiring the player to think outside the box at all times, as they're out there exploring, it makes the whole game feel like it's working together to make a point, and helps reduce that feeling one gets when playing RPGs where there are very separate elements of gameplay that... Don't really connect to each other very well. Sure, you're blatantly aware you're playing a videogame at all times, and it's not super great for immersion, but this was a time when there just... wasn't enough memory for immersion. It was a constraint that naturally gave way to challenges that capitalized on its own limitations, and therefore, created a type of immersion of its own, where the player is completely sucked into their own thoughts, holding a notebook with a rough sketch of the world map in their hand (yeah, I might have done that), taking notes and thinking where in the world could that last crest possibly be?! I think DQII hit that sweet spot of looseness vs. clarity in the narrative that helped these wild, nonsensical elements flourish. I really don't know how other people react to this sort of thing, but I don't care. I had a good time with it, and soon after this game, everything RPG started to become more focused on story. That's definitely not a bad thing, but I felt a kind of clear, developer-to-player kind of communication from these small bits of wrongness that made me more aware of the time, effort and creativity put into it by the people who were making it. I realized that, were I in the shoes of the dude who was making all this crazy stuff, I'd be stoked to see my friends trying to solve them. I'm not trying to be sentimental, that's how I honestly felt while playing that part with the teleporter and the chest. In any case, I appreciated it.

Then you get to the road to Rhone.

Though, apparently, the game was not pressured into deadlines by higher-ups, I did read something about one of the guys in the team offhandedly setting a deadline that turned out to be just that little bit too tight, requiring it to be delayed from November 1986 to January 1987. This, along with the fact that, at the time, the second title in a franchise had the habit of being designed for people who were hardcore fans of the first game in that series, might go a little ways into explaining why everything starting from the road to Rhone is absolutely fucking brutal. Every element of the game that, previously, was a tad questionable, leaving that little itch of worry in the back of your head, returns here with the express intent to make your life miserable. I have a high tolerance for difficulty, one that is even higher for RPGs where, for the most part, there are always ways to slightly circumvent it and make your life easier. The simplicity of design in DQII means that this is not the case here, and from this point on you're expected to not only have the skill and familiarity you've accrued while playing, but also a very healthy amount of luck to go with you, otherwise you will die. And rest assured, you WILL die. In fact, due to the specific way in which the player's mortality rate skyrockets in Rhone, it's almost not even a matter of the game being "hard" in the traditional sense, because it doesn't exactly require you to be strong enough or smart enough anymore, it just requires you to be patient enough to slowly trudge through the mountain of corpses of your former attempts until you figure out how to minimize your risks to the lowest degree they possibly can be minimized, then hitting that sweet spot of luck and control that finally allows you to reach the end of the game. This particular way of handling things means that, after you hit about level 30 with the main character, further leveling will only render you negligibly less likely to die, and the effects are not strong enough from level to level to even be clearly noticed. But what exactly makes it so hard? The answer is primarily RNG. When you reach the end, you will begin to notice just how much RNG there is through the whole game. Starting off, the turn order is entirely random. There is an agility stat, but I never found any evidence of it actually factoring into who goes first in battle (instead, it's a carryover from DQI that calculates your base defense). If there are more than three enemies, you're at a disadvantage, but even if there aren't, a stray run of bad luck - which is guaranteed to happen given the density of random encounters - means you're gonna have to scramble with enemy attacks, and they are perfectly capable of leaving you in such a state that it would take a miracle to put yourself back in shape, if they don't just wipe you out instantly. Now, remember, two of your three characters have magic. However, at this point in the game, enemies have a large amount of magic resistance to all kinds of different spells, and magic resistance in this game means that there is a chance the spell simply won't work. If it does, it deals full damage. If it doesn't, it deals none at all. I don't know about you, but I almost never take my chances with low-accuracy, gimmicky stuff in other games. This one renders all spells like that given enough time. If you decide to rely on physical strength, the main character is the only one who will bring you any significant results. The pure mage at this point in the game is far more efficient at support casting than direct damage, and the balanced character is - memetically, at this point - incompetent at both, and also sucks as a physical fighter, so once again, you're boned on that front. All of a sudden, running away becomes an alluring strategy. However, once again, there is an ever-prevalent random factor to it, so the pressure is on in all fronts. The game becomes a challenge of carefully planning out how to simply survive each encounter. Do you take the chance and run? If you fail, you'll be wailed on by the full force of the enemy party, and will likely be too weak to attempt mounting a resistance. Do you take the bait and unleash the full force of your attacks? What if they all target different enemies in the group? You won't deal enough damage to kill one of them, so you'll suffer heavy retaliation and waste precious MP that could be spent on healing spells. Did you win or escape successfully? You've only lost about 20% of your health, but some encounters can relieve you of the remaining 80% before you can even act, so do you spend MP healing or do you trudge on because you already don't have that many to go around? If you make the wrong decision at any of these break points - and rest assured, there won't be a shortage of them - you'll either die or get so close to death it will be almost irrelevant to keep going. And then, it's back to the last save point. Rinse and repeat many times until you clear the road and get to Rhone proper, for one final save point and one last, grueling stretch of game before the final boss. Here, the game introduces enemies that have, no joke, a move that kills your entire party and has 100% accuracy. Typing it out, it sounds like hyperbole, like i'm salty that I died so much and am exaggerating the things the game does in order to trick myself into believing that it was super impossible times infinity, but no, it's true. To be fair, there isn't a high chance the enemy will perform this move, but when they do, there's absolutely nothing you can do to save yourself. Just reset the game when the screen turns red. Other than that, the rest of the lovely cast of enemies rounding up the final waves are more than capable of just killing you the regular way, so keep your wits about you like you did back in the cave and grind yourself up until the stat bonuses start getting negligible, because now, you need to face five bosses in a row. Right, okay, technically you can go back and heal yourself right before the last one, but I didn't know that, so if you're an idiot like me, try to get ahold of a Wizard Ring, as well. It's the only way to heal MP, and can be used multiple times until - you guessed it - it randomly decides to break. After that, you just have to contend with two bosses that use a move that heals all their HP when it gets low, so you also have to roughly keep track of their state in your mind so you can unleash a full round of attack before they can get in that heal. Unless your spell doesn't hit them, of course. Or they happen to go first. Or you just barely miss the threshold of HP that will actually kill them. Oh, and be careful! One of the other bosses also knows the instant death move. He won't use it often, but 30 or so attempts in, you're likely to see it once or twice.

Then, the final boss can randomly spawn with a number of hit points between 75% and 100% of his assigned value (every enemy does that), and you're gonna deal an average of about 15% damage per turn to it. Sounds easy at first, but he will take you out in either one or two moves, and...

...Here's the motherload...

...He has a 1 in 16 chance of casting the full heal move at any point in the battle. And he WILL do that the first 2 or 3 times you get to him, sucking you dry of resources and smashing your face all the way back to the save point to try the 5 bosses again, so it's back to grinding attempts until you have another mostly hopeless shot at him.

But when you get him, man...

When you do it...

*sigh*

Anyway, this was a long, rambling, focus-shifting tangent just to correctly capture the degree of luck and randomness that constitutes the final stretch of Dragon Quest II. How does it impact the rest of the game? Well, I still appreciate it for what it did right, and there's a small, strange part of me that actually thinks the insane difficulty perfectly fits the stakes that the game set up, but it is, nevertheless, very hard. And once again, it's the kind of hard that is virtually impossible to circumvent. For any average, non-god-tier player, there is no alternate way of tackling the simple-looking, but highly controlled challenges in this game that trivializes it. You can't change your party, you can't buy extra spells, you can't really use stat-up items to change stat configurations in any significant way. You just have to keep trying and hope it works, and for the first few dozen times, it won't, so you'll just have to deal with it.

Still, it shows, even up to the end, that the DQ team has a certain grasp of consistency in design that will slowly grow and adapt as the series embraces new complexities through the years. DQII stands as somewhat of a black sheep in the series (as the second titles of old franchises often do), but I think it has its place, and it's surely a wild ride. Also, if you can get yourself into the mindset of late 80's design, I can assure you it won't ever be boring. Maddening, sure, but not boring. It's more fun in the midgame, in my opinion, as for someone who is very used to RPGs, it can be exceesingly simplistic at the start and too hopelessly uncontrollable at the end, but I feel it deserves a score of 7 out of 10. It's pure gameplay, and, for what it's worth, you WILL get an intense experience. Just be ready to shake, a lot. And pad your walls.

#rpg #video games #review #dragon quest

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uomo-accattivante · 5 years

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Oscar Isaac in the role of painter Paul Gauguin is trouble you see coming from a mile away—the kind you live to regret falling for anyway.

He’s a holier-than-thou painting bro with a “slightly misanthropic” streak (Isaac’s generous wording), eyes glinting with disgust in his first close-up. Pipe in one hand, book in another, dressed all black save for an elegant red scarf, he slams a table and shames the Impressionists gathered around him: “They call themselves artists but behave like bureaucrats,” he huffs after a theatrical exit. “Each of them is a little tyrant.”

From a few tables away, another painter, Vincent van Gogh, watches in awe. He runs into the street after Gauguin like a puppy dog.

Within a year, a reluctant Gauguin would move in with van Gogh in a small town in the south of France, in the hope of fostering an artists’ retreat away from stifling Paris. Eight emotionally turbulent weeks later, van Gogh would lop off his left ear with a razor, distraught that his dearest friend planned to leave him for good. He enclosed the bloody cartilage in wrapping marked “remember me,” intending to have it delivered to Gauguin by a frightened brothel madam as a bizarre mea culpa. The two never spoke again.

Or so the last two years of Vincent van Gogh’s life unspool in Julian Schnabel’s At Eternity’s Gate, itself a kind of lush, post-Impressionistic memoir of the Dutchman’s tormented time in Arles, France. (Not to mention artistically fruitful time: Van Gogh churned out 200 paintings and 100 watercolors and sketches before the ear fiasco landed him in an insane asylum.)

Isaac plays Gauguin like an irresistibly bad boyfriend, a bemused air of condescension at times wafting straight into the audience: “Why’re you being so dramatic?” he scoffs directly into the camera, inflicting a first-person sensation of van Gogh’s insult and pain.

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Yet in the painter’s artistic restlessness, Isaac, 37, sees himself: “That desire to want to do something new, to want to push the boundaries, to not just settle for the same old thing and get so caught up with the minutia of what everyone thinks is fashionable in the moment.” He talks about “staying true to your own idea of what’s great.” He talks about “finding something honest.”

From another actor, the sentiment might border on banal. But Oscar Isaac—Guatemalan-born, Juilliard-trained and, in his four years since breaking through as film’s most promising new leading man, christened superlatives from “this generation’s Al Pacino” to the “best dang actor of his generation”—might really have reason to mean what he says. He’s crawling out the other end of a life-altering two years, one that’s encompassed personal highs, like getting married and becoming a father, and an acutely painful low: losing a parent.

He basked in another Star Wars premiere, mined Hamlet for every dimension of human experience, and weathered the worst notices of his career with Life Itself. Through it all, he says, he’s spent a lot of time in his head—reevaluating who he is, what he wants, and what matters most.

Right now, he’s aiming for a year-long break from work, his first in a decade, after wrapping next December’s Star Wars: Episode IX. “I’m excited to, like Gauguin, kind of step away from the whole thing for a bit and focus on things that are a bit more real and that matter to me,” he says.

Until then, he’s just trying “to keep moving forward as positively as I can,” easing into an altered reality. “You’re just never the same,” he says quietly. “On a cellular level, you’re a completely different person.”

When we talk, Isaac is in New York for one day to promote and attend the New York Film Festival premiere of At Eternity’s Gate. Then it’s back on a plane to London, where Pinewood Studios and Star Wars await.

Episode IX, the last of Disney’s new Skywalker trilogy, will see Isaac reprise the role of dashing Resistance pilot Poe Dameron, whose close relationship with Carrie Fisher’s General Leia evokes joy but also melancholy after Fisher’s untimely passing.

Each film was planned in part as a celebration and send-off to each of the original trilogy’s most beloved heroes: in The Force Awakens, Han Solo (Harrison Ford); in The Last Jedi, Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill); Fisher, meanwhile, had hoped to save Leia’s spotlight for last but passed unexpectedly long before filming began. Director J.J. Abrams, returning to close the trilogy he opened with Episode VII, has since said that unseen footage of Fisher from that previous film will ensure the General appears, however briefly.

For his part, Isaac promises the still-untitled ninth film will pay appropriate homage to Leia—and to Fisher’s sense of fun. “The story deals with that quite a bit,” he says. “It’s a strange thing to be on the set and to be speaking of Leia and having Carrie not be around. There’s definitely some pain in that.” Still, he says, compared to the first two installments, “there’s a looseness and an energy to the way that we’re shooting this that feels very different.”

“It’s been really fun being back with J.J., with all of us working in a really close way. I just feel like there’s an element of almost senioritis, you know?” he laughs. “Since everything just feels way looser and people aren’t taking it quite as seriously, but still just having a lot of fun. I think that that energy is gonna translate to a really great movie.”

Fisher’s absence is felt keenly on set, Isaac says. As if to reassure us both, however, he reiterates: “It deals with the amazing character that Carrie created in a really beautiful way.”

Two months after Fisher’s death, Isaac’s mother, Eugenia, passed away after an illness. A month after that, the actor married his girlfriend, the Danish documentarian Elvira Lind. Another month later, the couple welcomed their first son, named Eugene to honor the little boy’s grandmother. Work offered a way for a reeling Isaac to process.

There was his earth-shaking run at Hamlet, in which Isaac starred as the titular prince in mourning at New York’s Public Theater. And then there was writer-director Dan Fogelman’s Life Itself, a film met with reviews that near-unanimously recoiled from its “cheesy,” “overwrought” structure, filled with what one critic called the genuine emotion of “a damage-control ExxonMobil commercial.”

The reaction surprised Isaac. “I thought it was some of my strongest work,” he says. “Especially at that moment in my life. This guy is dealing with grief and, for me, it was a really honest way of trying to understand those emotions and to create a character who was also going through just incomprehensible grief.” He’s proud of the performance—and, in a strange way, heartened by the sour critical response.

“To be honest,” he says brightly, “there was something really comforting about it.” That the work “for me, meant something and for others, didn’t at all, it just made the whole thing not matter so much in a great way.”

“I was able to explore something and come out the other end and feel like I grew as an actor,” he explains. “That matters to me a lot. And the response to that, you know, it’s interesting of course, but it was a great example for me of how it really doesn’t dictate how I then feel about what I did.”

He thinks for a moment of performances and projects that, conversely, embarrassed him—ones that to his shock, boasted “really great notices” in the end. “You just never know, you know? It’s completely out of my control.”

Isaac is an encouraging listener in conversation, doling out interested yeahs and uh-huhs, and often warm, self-deprecating laughter. When I broach a particularly personal subject, he seems to sit up—somehow, suddenly more present. It’s about his last name.

Óscar Isaac Hernández Estrada dropped both surnames before enrolling at Juilliard in 2001. He’d run into several Óscar Hernándezes at auditions by that point, and taken note of the stereotypes casting directors seemed to have in mind for them—gangsters, drug dealers, the works. So he made a change, not unlike many actors do.

Whether Óscar Hernández might have had a crack at the astonishingly diverse roles Oscar Isaac has inhabited, we’ll never know. But given Hollywood’s limiting tendencies, it’s less likely he might have played an English king for Ridley Scott in 2010’s Robin Hood, three years before his breakthrough role as a cantankerous folk singer in Joel and Ethan Coen’s Inside Llewyn Davis. He was an Armenian genocide survivor in last year’s The Promise, an Israeli secret agent in August’s Operation Finale, and now, he’s the Frenchman Paul Gauguin.

Star Wars’ Poe Dameron, meanwhile, or the mysterious tech billionaire in Alex Garland’s Ex Machina, or the army commando in his second Garland mind-twist, Annihilation, specify no ethnicities at all. It’s the dream: to be hailed as a great actor, period, and not a “great Latino actor” first. To be appreciated for your talent, and seen as “other” rarely at all.

There’s a crawl space between those distinctions, though, where another anxiety lives. The one that makes you wonder: Am I “representing” as loudly as I should? Am I obligated to do so in my work? If I don’t, what does that make me? Questions for when you grew up in Miami, or another Latino-dominant place, reckoning with how you’re perceived in a spotlight outside of it. Isaac listens attentively. Then for several unbroken minutes, talks it out with himself.

He rewinds to yesterday, when he boarded a plane from London on which an air steward addressed him repeatedly as “señor,” unbidden. “It was just a little weird. So I started calling him ‘señor’ as well. I was like, thank you, señor!” Isaac recalls, cracking up. “But then at the same time, I had that thought. I was like, but no, I should really, you know, be proud of being a señor, I guess?”

“I think for a lot of immigrants, the idea is that you don’t always just want to be thought of as other. Like, I don’t want him to be just calling me ‘señor.’ Why?” he asks, more of the steward than himself. “Because I look like I do, so I’m not a mystery anymore? It did bring up all those kinds of questions.”

He grew up in the United States, he explains; his family came over from Guatemala City when Isaac was 5 months old. “I’m most definitely Latino. That’s who I am. But at the same time, for an actor it’s like, I want to be hired not because of what I can represent, but because of what I can create, how I can transform, and the power of what I create.”

Still, Isaac has eyes and ears and exists in the year 2018 with the rest of us. “I’m not an idiot,” he adds. “And I know that we live in a politically charged time. There’s so much terrible language, particularly right now, being used against Latinos as a kind of political weapon.” He recognizes, too, the necessity “for people to see people that look like them, because that’s a very inspiring thing.”

As a kid, Isaac looked up to Raúl Juliá, the Puerto Rican-born actor and Broadway star whose breakthrough movie role came as Gomez Addams of the ’90s Addams Family films. “But I looked up to him particularly because he was a Latino that wasn’t being pigeonholed just in Latino parts,” Isaac adds.

“I do think there is a separation between the artist and the art form, between a craftsperson and the craft,” he says, applying the difference in this context to himself. He calls it “that double thing,” as apt a term as any for that peculiar, precise tension: “Like yes, I am who I am, I came from where I come from. But my interest isn’t just in showing people stuff about myself, because I don’t find me to be all that interesting.”

“What is more interesting to me is the work that I’m able to do, and all that time that I spent learning how to do Shakespeare and how to break down plays and try to create a character and do accents,” he says. “That, for me, is what’s fun.”

But it’s always that “double thing”—reconciling two pulls and finding a way not to get torn up. He wants American Latinos “to know, to be proud that there is someone from there that is out and doing work and being recognized not just for being a Latino that’s been able to do that.” On the other hand, he’s “just like any artist who’s out there doing something. I feel like that’s…” He pauses. “That’s also something to be proud of, you know?”

Isaac’s focus lands on me again. “And I think for you too, you’re a writer and that’s what you do. Your identity is also part of that, but I think that you want the work to stand on its own, too.” His sister is “an incredible scientist. She’s at the forefront of climate change and particularly how it affects Latino communities and low-income areas. And she is a Latina scientist, but she’s a scientist, you know? She’s a great scientist without the qualifier of where she’s from. And that’s also very important.”

Paul Gauguin’s life after van Gogh’s death by gunshot at 37 revealed more repugnant depths than his dick-ish insensitivity.

He defected from Paris again, this time to the South Pacific, determined to break from the staid art scene once and for all. He “married” three adolescent brides, two of them 14 years old and the other 13, infecting each girl with syphilis and settling into a private compound he dubbed Maison de Jouir, or “House of Orgasms.” “Pretty gnarly, nasty stuff,” Isaac concedes, though he withholds judgment of the man in his performance onscreen.

To do so might have made his Gauguin—alluring, haughty, insufferable, brilliant—“not quite as complex.” Opposite Willem Dafoe’s divinely wounded depiction of van Gogh, however, he found room to play. “It was interesting to ask, well, what’s the kind of person that would feel that he’s entitled to do those kinds of things?” The man onscreen is an asshole, to be sure, but hardly paints the word “sociopath” onto a canvas. He’s simply human: “I think that anyone has at least the capacity to do” what Gauguin did, Isaac reasons.

The actor has had more than one reason to think on a person’s capacity to do terrible things in the last year. Two men he’s worked with—his Show Me a Hero director, Paul Haggis, and X-Men: Apocalypse helmer Bryan Singer—were both accused of sexual assault in the last year, part of a torrent of unmasked misconduct Hollywood’s Me Too movement brought to national attention.

“It’s a tricky thing,” Isaac says, “because you get offered jobs all the time and, I guess, what’s required now? What kind of background checks can someone do beforehand? There isn’t a ton.” (Just ask Olivia Munn.) “Especially as an actor, to make sure that the people you’re working with, surrounding yourself with, haven’t done something in their past that I guess will make you seem somehow like you’re propping up bad behavior.”

Carefully, he expresses reservations about the phenomenon of the last year. “People don’t feel like they’re getting justice through any kind of legal system, so they take it to the streets,” he ventures. “It’s basically street justice. You have no other option. And what happens when you take it to the streets is that damage occurs, and sometimes people get taken down, things get destroyed that you feel like maybe shouldn’t have.”

“But some of it had to happen, and hopefully now there’ll be more of a system in place to take these things seriously,” he says. “It seems like it is starting to happen more, but then you see things like, how can this person get away with it? How can that person? It just boggles the mind.”

He pulls back again, remembering what’s out of his control.

Tomorrow, he’ll be back in an X-Wing suit, as Poe struggles to accept the same truth. In a year, he’ll be home in New York with his wife and young son, focusing on matters more “real” than Hollywood, its artists, and its art. Whatever he chooses whenever he returns, he’ll be ready—for the critics, the questions, for this new reality.

“All I can do is just do what means something to me,” he says. “You just have to find something honest.” One expects he will.

###

#oscar isaac #paul gauguin #at eternity's gate #poe dameron #star wars #carrie fisher #episode ix #episode 9 #operation finale #life itself #inside llewyn davis #hamlet #robin hood #the promise #ex machina #annihilation #show me a hero #x men: apocalypse #interview

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heroquills-a · 5 years

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🏠 (i imagine it being all messy lmao)

🏠 - What does their living space look like?

ooon the contrary, you’d be quite surprised. i did do a post about this in the past, i think, regarding what sonic’s place looks like. but some aspects have changed since then but it still generally has the same layout?

so sonic and tails live together in green hill zone. there’s this decent, big sturdy tree they found among several other trees that they decided to construct into a tree house of sorts with a bit of a modern twist to it.

so imagine something like

just with a tropical setting instead of a cabin aesthetic. it’s more like a hut, kinda.

anyway it’s relatively cozy, especially the den/livingroom area- which is actually nestled inside a hollow part of the tree. it’s got a real nice, tropical rainforest feel to it. its small but spacious, and the general area is decently hidden unless you really know what to look for. tails also set up a security system just in case, but honestly it’s one of the safest places you could be.

in terms of living conditions, there really isn’t a whole lot in the place? in fact i’d say the messiest part of the house would actually be tails room/lab/workshop to be honest. and they have a tiny bot that tails built which is basically a modified roomba with the personality of one of those ali vector robots and it basically helps maintain the place while they are away (and kinda works as an assistant for tails.)

but,, yeah sonic’s room is honestly really tidy because he keeps most things in his closet and doesn’t really have much else to keep in his room besides a bed, a nightstand, a dresser and his guitar. there might be some clothes left on the floor but eventually either sonic takes care if buzzert doesn’t get to it first lmao.

second messiest part of the house would probably be the den if only because thats usually where tails and sonic hang out if they’re just chilling & what not, playing videogames or watching tv or something lmao. but yeah.

this place kinda doubles as their base since tails set up so many systems and tricked the heck out of the place to make sure they’d be well protected and eggman wouldn’t discover them.

more under the cut + some diagrams to give a vague idea of what the layout is

so here’s the overall layout of the place (please excuse the shitty sketch lmao i am not an interior designer)

couple things to note;

they use the balcony as their front door more often than not because tails can fly and sonic can run up walls/platforms and its easy to access if you have special powers so, yeah

which is funny because it’s not technically their front door, its just a balcony/platform. their front door is really that secret entrance you see but they like never use it honestly akfjhfgh. that’ll be the one a normal person would probably use

in the den there’s two couches that kinda face eachother and create this little lounging space and they have a big flat screen + rad gaming & movie set up in there which is the main source of entertainment if theyre hanging out. but there’s also some cupboards and stuff for various toiletries and housing items and what have you.

tails’ workshop has two different levels. upstairs (which connects to the bridge to the rest of the place) is the lab for researching/programming/what have you, downstairs is the workshop for building stuff.

secondly, here’s what sonic’s room looks like specifically in terms of layout

his bed is a modified hammock. it rests at about waist level, like any other bed and is lined with a lot of plush padding & pillows and kinda gently slopes in towards the center (esp if he’s laying down in it). it’s actually really comfortable and ideal, almost like a little nest.

it sits next to a window that he typically leaves open because he loves feeling the breeze brush through his room and listening to the night sounds of green hill. its usually very peaceful. even during the day. (unless of course there’s a storm or something lmao.)

next to his bed is just a simple little night stand that has some discarded stuff on it, like a water bottle and maybe some snack wrappers or fliers he’s collected on his travels that advertise events around the world to check out. there’s also a lamp, and he usually sets his phone on it too.

the dresser is kinda where he stuffs what clothes he does have. there’s really not a whole lot in there but yeah there’s some things. whats more prominent is that there’s a few picture frames sitting ontop the dresser one of him and tails, one of him, tails, knuckles and amy, and then an older one of his family back on christmas island before jules passed away.

sonic keeps basically everything else in his closet. though recently he’s taken his guitar out and has it sitting out in the open now so that it’ll remind him to use it more often these days.

there’s definitely some plants in his room too, because he wanted to maintain that nature aesthetic. he’s got some flowers & vine plants growing in there, the vine plants’ pots hang from the ceiling and their tendrils grow along the ceiling and along the walls a little bit.

yeah i think that’s basically it, if i think of any more things i’ll probably add it to this post later but yeah thats what sonic’s living conditions are like. besides, still having nomadic tendencies and sleeping in random spots where-ever when he’s not here.

#🌀 — i just only have a steadfast heart of gold. ❪ headcanons. ❫#long post #whew #gomxmusemasterlist #asks

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kristie-rp · 5 years

Text

[2016] A Series of Coincidences is Called, “The Universe is Having You On”

Prompt: Found their phone number in a library book au

“Todays’ the day,” Xavier declares to his breakfast – scrambled eggs and toast, because his dad takes being a chef very seriously don’t laugh, Xav – and then gives a determined nod. “I can absolutely do this.”

And maybe he could, but when he gets to school and hangs out all day, even having the stupid note – something he did purely because he overheard her complain that she’s sick of being the messenger for her more popular twins notes, I want some for me, damn it – all prepared and written out ahead of time, ready to slip into her locker or, if he’s feeling particularly brave, into her notebook. The one with the little sketches all over it.

It’s not until after school, when he’s waiting for Isaac’s chauffeur to give them a lift to karate, that he finds out what happened. “Didja hear?” Isaac asks, more attractive with his actually decent looking facial hair (especially for a 14 year old, which, what) and his flawless olive skin and expertly quaffed hair, as he flops down on the stairs where Xavier has sprawled out, face-down on the concrete. “The hot twins got expelled. You know – the one that thinks she’s a dude and the one you have a boner for.”

Xavier does know. He sits up just to tear the little note to shreds. So much for that, he thinks, and in a dramatic teenaged fit later that night, he gives up on the idea of Pandora Rodriquez, gorgeous artist extraordinaire, and then on romance altogether.

It’s ridiculous but Isaac dares him to do it and the new guy encourages the whole thing, so Xavier writes his mobile number on a post it and sticks it in the book he was hoping had information for the stupid class project that he doesn’t want to do. This is what he gets for hoping art history is actually interesting, and as he packs up to leave he swears the terrifying librarian with her magenta hair and dark skin knows exactly what he just did (judging by the snickering from the shelves, the womans boyfriend definitely knows), because she just keeps staring at him. He smiles uneasily and gets the hell out of there, forgetting about it once Vincent and Isaac finish teasing his damn unfortunate self (“You actually did it? Dude, you could’ve just pretended.” “Shut up and do something about your gigantic bisexual boner for the new guy,” Xavier snaps and hits Isaac with a pillow, because he’s still paranoid the librarian will show up and scold him for abusing books despite the fact that he lives on the opposite side of town to the library).

It’s a week later when he gets a text from a number he doesn’t recognise.

(3:43PM) so does this thing help at all with th project on “obscure fuckin artists” or

(3:44 PM) ? what are you talking about

(3:44 PM) who is this by the way

(3:50 PM) hellloooo?

(4:22 PM) soz not soz. ur number’s in this book. at the library. that was u, rght?

(4:24 PM) oh. yeah.

(4:27 PM) but that book was rubbish. i ended up just googling

(4:27 PM) asdhfkldsahfkdlfkjsa

(4:28 PM) u srs?

(4:32 PM) IM AT THS HOLE FOR NO REASON FML

(4:34 PM) breathe, random angry text person

He doesn’t get another text back that day, but he and the unknown number are in contact for a long time yet.

College is fantastic. And by that of course Xavier means he hates it. He tells his cereal as much one morning, never mind that he isn’t even a college student, waiting for Isaac to quit hogging the fucking breakfast. “I hate college.” Just for good measure, he texts the random angry text person (now called ‘poxy paint’ because why not) from sophomore year the same thing.

(7:43 AM) u wke me up for ths shit

(7:45 AM) you want problems? my roommate sings in the shower

He snorts, because he can hear Isaac singing fucking Keep Moving On in the next room, and it’s mornings like this that he regrets renting an open plan living space. There’s a bathroom and one closed off room, which sucks because Isaac, as the one who actually has the sex life, is the one who gets dibs. Xavier’s still pining after a crush he had in middle and high school (he regrets nothing, damn it, except for a stupid ripped up note that melted in the rain six years ago).

(7:50 AM) coffeeeeeee

(7:52 AM) nyway. u still wanna meet me? coz im free today

(7:53 AM) i can come to that shop thing if u want? sis nd her friends want to do smth “cultural” or w/e

He stares at his phone for a full two minutes before grinning at his cereal, dropping the spoon. “I could actually meet them? Do I want to? Will I ruin everything?

“Quit talking to your fucking food!” Isaac calls. Xavier calls back that he should fuck himself while he’s in there, then texts back.

(7:56 AM) sorry that took so long

(7:57 AM) the show starts at 10 if your serious. convention center and all

(8:03 AM) ill b th chick wiv the twin, a lost boi and a crown

(8:05 AM) i’ll be waiting for you your highness

Vince helps out with the stall, because Isaac has advanced quantum physics or whatever the fuck he’s studying now. Xavier doesn’t care enough to know for sure, and wouldn’t even have an idea it was physics if he hadn’t tripped over a book that morning (“Why is a physics textbook next to the shower?” “I need that for class!” “Noooo? And here I thought you had it for light reading.” “Alright, no need to be sarcastic.”), but it means that he and Vince are manning the stall. Well, Vince is manning the stall. Xavier is mostly just being anxious and doodling little animals running around in circles. When the guy his roommate still has a bisexual boner for (even after they actually did something about it that one Thanksgiving break) became the most responsible person in his life, he doesn’t know, but it’s nice listening to someone other than him argue that his art is worth the price he affixes with little removable tags.

“Vince?” a confused voice chimes. Xavier rolls his eyes – it isn’t the first time someone has recognised the guy who will always be “the new guy” in his social circle – and looks up to scan the room for the crown, the twin and the ‘lost boy’ once again. Seeing nothing, he sighs and looks back at his doodles. “You’re the awkward artist dude?”

Vince looks positively delighted, Xavier discovers when his hand cramps and he looks up yet again as he shakes it out. “Oh my god, you’re the mysterious textee? Seriously?” Maybe he wasn’t there for the event itself, but he knows the story about Xavier’s gigantic crush, courtesy of Isaac himself. He turns to Xavier, says unnecessarily loudly, “Hey Xavier, I didn’t realise it was my Pandora.”

The look Xavier shoots him could wither a sunflower, but Vince just jumps to his feet, gesturing for Pan to come around. “You know what, you two should absolutely take care of things here, I want a break anyway.” He grabs the other guy – who’s mostly just standing there looking bewildered – by the hand and drags him away, borderline skipping. The other girl raises an eyebrow at the one with the – with the crown?

“Is this the guy,” she asks, except it doesn’t quite sound like a question.

“Uh,” the girl says, eloquently, then turns to him. “Phone.”

Xavier points at the counter, baffled, and lets her go through the thing, unlocked to play music as he works. After a moment she emits a triumphant little noise and nods at the other girl – who shakes her head and leaves – and drops the phone on his page. “Hey, so, this is a little bit weird, but – I think I’m the person you’ve been texting for, like, six years or something.” She taps her head; a glance has Xavier realising he didn’t look close enough to spot the fucking crown. It’s paper and bright pink, covered in so much glitter and beads that he’s not sure it’s not just stuck to her hair with glue.

And, worse, he knows her. “Holy shit.” Because maybe Vince thinks this is his Pandora, but before she was his she was his, Xavier’s, in his dreams at least. “This is going to sound absolutely insane, but – you went to Saint Jude’s and got expelled, didn’t you? You’re, uh, you supposedly set something on fire?”

“It was for art,” she retorts, indignant, “why?”

“Because I was, uh,” and he mumbles the last part as quickly as he can, wanting it over with as his cheek turn bright fucking red, “planning on asking you out literally the day you got expelled.”

She starts laughing a minute later, and then, out of sheer desperation, so does he. At this points it’s that or cry.

#kristie writes #kristie's writing #kwrites #kwriting #ft. xavier #ft. isaac #ft. vince #ft. pandora #ft. pan

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seuzz · 5 years

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Short Stories: Twenty-One Stories

Graham Greene was mostly known for his novels, but he was a masterful writer of short stories as well. The stories in this collection show him in a variety of moods, and achieving a variety of effects. For some of the summaries I have added notes on what I think the story does especially well and which can be studied by would-be writers to their profit.

Spoiler Warning: The summaries of these stories may disclose plot twists.

Summaries * “The Destructors”: A gang of boys in post-war London destroys an old man’s beautiful house simply for the fun of it. An acute portrait of male adolescent psychology, particularly inside a large group where the boys may turn on each other at an instant’s notice.

* “Special Duties”: A Catholic businessman employs a woman to perform rites that will gain him indulgences. After he discovers she is really a prostitute who has been cheating him, he fires her ... and immediately starts a search to fill the position. A satirical sketch of a personality type that saves the most revealing touch of all until the end.

* “The Blue Film”: While traveling in Siam in a search for thrills, a middle-aged couple rents a pornographic film. Too late, the husband recognizes it as one that he made when he was young. His wife recognizes him, berates him, then demands he make love to her afterward. The husband feels that in acceding to her demand he has betrayed the girl that he made love to in the film.

* “The Hint of an Explanation”: A Catholic tells an agnostic acquaintance of an incident in his youth—the local “freethinker,” who hated Catholicism and the boy’s father, tried seducing him into stealing and bringing him a consecrated Host. The boy at the last moment refused and ate the Host to save it from the man, and in that act gained a breathing understanding of the meaning of it. At the end, he reveals that he is himself now a priest. Very good at conveying a feeling of spiritual mystery and reality by making very small actions and temptations significant to the individuals.

* “When Greek Meets Greek”: Two criminal families unwittingly run confidence games against each other: One family sells a fake college education to another, which is pretending to be gentry. The daughter and son in these families penetrate each others’ lies, but fall in love anyway and decide to marry, after which they will seize control of the fake college and make a real criminal racket of it.

* “Men at Work”: Bureaucrats argue about trivial matters in a war ministry while the Battle of Britain rages above.

* “Alas, Poor Maling”: An executive secretary has a gastronomical peculiarity -- his stomach, like a parrot, can mimic sounds it has heard. It imitates an air raid siren at an inopportune moment, breaking up a business meeting and destroying his firm’s hopes for an advantageous merger.

* “The Case for the Defence”: A man is acquitted when it proves he has a twin brother, for the jury cannot say beyond a shadow of a doubt which one was seen fleeing the scene of a brutal crime. After the acquittal, one brother is struck down by a truck ... and no one can say if it was delayed justice or not.

* “A Little Place off the Edgware Road”: A man seeks shelter from the rain in a movie theater. His neighbor, who seems ill, mumbles about how a stabbing in the movie would have created much more blood. The man discovers when the lights go up that he is covered in blood, and that his neighbor has gone. He phones the police to say that he sat beside a murderer. The police explain that they’ve got the murderer -- it’s the dead man who’s disappeared. Very vivid horror writing, both psychologically (the protagonist’s horror of his and other men’s bodies) and physically (his neighbor in the cinema).

* “Across the Bridge”: A fugitive financier in Mexico plays a clumsy cat-and-mouse game with two detective sent to retrieve him. He beats his dog, and the detectives in revenge steal the dog. The fugitive crosses the river into the US for a change of scene; his dog spots and chases him, and the detectives accidentally hit the fugitive with their car and kill him. A good example of how to tell a story with an uninvolved first-person narrator who watches all the action from a distance.

* “A Drive in the Country”: A girl who despises the cramped, well-ordered life of her father’s house elopes with a reckless ne’er-do-well. Once in the country, she finds that he has no plans except a suicide pact. She abandons him, gets a ride back home, and gets back inside without her family realizing she had ever been gone.

* “The Innocent”: A man takes the girl he’s picked up to his old home town. After leaving her in the inn he explores, remembering the old place. He remembers particularly a girl he was in love with when he was nine. He finds the crevice in a wall where he left a love note for her. Curious to see what he wrote, he explores the crevice and finds the note. To his shock, it is a crude and obscene drawing of a man and woman together. Later, he reflects that the meaning to his innocent mind wasn’t obscene, but expressive of love and admiration; only his subsequent sexual experiences have made it appear filthy. Psychological acuity that also probes the metaphysics of intent and significance.

* “The Basement Room”: A young boy who idolizes the family butler is drawn unwillingly into the lies that he, his wife, and his mistress tell each other. After the butler accidentally kills his wife, the boy without comprehension dooms his friend by speaking truth instead of a lie.

* “A Chance for Mr Lever”: One Englishman searches for another in the African bush; if he finds him, he may be able to close a deal that the searcher badly needs. He finds the man, but he is dying. The searcher, driven to an extremity, forges a letter from the dying man to take back to England with him, but thanks to a mosquito bite is fated to die before even leaving the bush. Read for its ability to vividly conjure up scenes of nature.

* “Brother”: A cafe owner in Paris is frightened of the group of Communists that enters his cafe while fleeing the police. He hates that they ask for drink while refusing to pay. The police shoot their way into the cafe, and the owner now resents the imperious way they treat him while promising to pay for the damages.

* “Jubilee”: An aging gigolo, while trying to pick up a girl, is taken in hand by a retired prostitute who has come into money. She recognizes what he is and tries coaxing him into a temporary happiness; the shattering of his carefully cultivated front only leaves him feeling old.

* “A Day Saved”: One man follows another on a trip across the Channel. [I’ve no idea what this one is supposed to be about.]

* “I Spy”: A boy sneaks downstairs to steal a cigarette from his father’s tobacco store. While hiding there, he sees his father come in with some business associates, who lead him off. Their conversation—which is above the head of the boy—implies that they are taking the father off to be killed, probably on account of unpaid debts to a mobster.

* “Proof Positive”: A man addresses a meeting of a Spiritualist society, offering “proof positive” that the spirit is stronger than the body. But he seems ill and run-down, to the embarrassment of the listeners. His talk degenerates into incoherent babble before he falls over. A doctor, on examining him, announces that he has been dead a week at least. Another vivid horror story that cunningly anticipates the final reveal with misleading details; that juxtaposes the latent horror with the irascible boredom of the spectators; and which in its final statement replaces the physical horror with a spiritual horror that is even more appalling.

* “The Second Death”: One man tries comforting a dying friend, who dreads death because he had died once before (though was saved from a premature burial) and he remembers what it was like. It will be worse this time, says the dying man, for he did not mend his ways after a traveling doctor revived him. The doctor was a miracle worker, he relates before he suddenly expires. His friend is left to remember how he too had been rescued from blindness by a miracle-working doctor, to no effect on his morality. [The implication at the end is that the story is set in first century Palestine; these were some of the men cured (to no apparent improvement, says this story) by Christ.] Shows how to create a spiritually minded horror story through indirection, understatement, and workaday physical detail.

* “The End of the Party”: Twin boys attend a birthday party they both dread, one of them because he hates the dark and dreads the game of hide and seek that will be played in it. His brother finds him in the dark and grips his hand tightly to comfort him until the lights come on. When they come on, it is found that the one, in gripping the hand of his brother, had scared him literally to death. Somber, terrifying exploration of childhood fears and childhood pities.

Recommended

#reading #short stories #graham greene

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