#breaking news: furries now the enemies of cops

[bungou-stray-dingus]

hey there, so like this is my first time requesting but your writing is sooo good i can't help myself. if you could, could you make a scenario for dazai and chuuya where his s/o is a non-ability who is very bubbly and innocent but they find out she has a deadly skill that could almost pass as an ability. im sorry if you're busy, you dont have to write this if you dont want to. I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH💕💕

OH IM GONNA WRITE IT BECAUSE I THOUGHT OF THE FUNNIEST BUT ALSO CUTEST THING OH YEAH ITS GETTING WROTE

THANKS BOOBOO ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dazai

You were like an angel, too pure for this world. Your heart was filled with nothing but good. You donated to charity, helped out in elementary schools during the week and volunteered at children’s hospitals, homeless shelters, and animal shelters during the weekend.

He looked at you as if you were a saint. Whenever you would come home from volunteering he’d bow down at your feet. “My goddess has returned! I’m not worthy!” You’d laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his hand and helping him off the floor.

“Shush.” You’d say before pecking a kiss on his lips.

When you weren’t out helping in the community, you were at home doing what you could to help out without being there. You took up knitting, and Dazai joked about it often. He even went as far as to buy a rocking chair with extra cushion for you to sit in while you would work. “You’re the cutest grandma, you know that?” He’d say, and you’d throw your ball of yarn at him.

“Shut up, and bring me my yarn back.” He’d re-wind the yarn that came undone when you threw it as he walked the ball back to where you sat.

He poked fun at it, but he would often sit on the floor next to your rocking chair, becoming entrances as he watched your hands carefully wrap the yarn around the needle and thread it through the loops. He didn’t understand how you did it, but everything you made came out perfectly, especially the tiny hats for newborn babies with matching booties, and sweaters for dogs and cats in the shelters for when it got cold. You had even made blankets for the people at the homeless shelters, making sure to use the softest yarn that would also be warm.

Sometimes he would come with you to the hospitals or the homeless shelters when he wasn’t working. He never went to the animal shelter though, he didn’t want to be anywhere where dogs were.

When he would go to the hospitals with you he would spend hours making over the babies and how cute they were in the new hats and booties you had made for them.

“Y/N, is it illegal to take a baby from the hospital?” He would ask you on the way back home and you’d just stare at him.

“You’re a cop, I hope you’re joking.”

“Yeah, obviously I’m joking but... so it’s illegal?”

You were used to people not liking your boyfriend. He had helped bring a lot of people to justice in his line of work. You weren’t expecting people to hate you though. Dazai had worked hard to make sure that anyone from opposing agencies or enemies didn’t know that you and him were dating. In the beginning he was always worried and on edge that something bad may happen to you just for being associated with him, but it’s been a year and a half now and nobody had tried to hurt you or kill you.

That’s why you were less than serious when the door got kicked open and three men stormed in, all of them wielding knives. It had to be some kind of weird prank by Dazai, or maybe even some strange act that would set the stage for a new fantasy kink.

“I’m kind of busy right now, can you come back in an hour?” You said calmly, holding up the knitting needles to show them that you were occupied.

“We don’t give a damn. You’re coming with us.” One of the men said, you didn’t know what he looked like, all of them had black masks on.

“Eh, I don’t think I am.” You shrugged, not even looking up from the new sweater you were making.

They were getting angry, the three men stomped over to where you were sitting in the rocking chair. One of them held his knife to your throat, and you finally realized that they weren’t joking, and Dazai wasn’t in on it. “I think you are. That bumbling boyfriend of yours needs to know. Mess with us and we mess with him. Now let’s go.” He pressed the knife deeper and your fight or flight instinct kicked in. You wouldn’t be able to outrun the three of them, so you had to fight.

You gripped the needles tighter, bringing your arm up to jab it into the mans neck. He staggered back and fell to the floor against the wall, trying to pull the needle out.

“What the fuck!?” One of the other men shouted, as the third one started sprinting towards you. You quickly grabbed the knife that the first man had dropped, preparing yourself to stab the man before he could get to you. As soon as he got close enough you forcefully pushed the knife into the mans stomach. He screamed as you twisted it, making him drop to his knees, blood dripping out of his mouth from the damage you had caused.

The final man stood there, assessing the scene, his hands in the air. He had already dropped his knife.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Your voice was low, you were out of breath. You watched him run out your door, then took the time to finally realize what you had done. “Oh my god. Oh... oh my god....” You swallowed back the bile that was rising up your throat. You had killed two people, you had single handedly taken out two grown men. You were a murderer.

With sweaty hands and shaking fingers you dialed Dazai’s number, praying that he’d actually answer.

“Hey swee-“

“You need to come home, I need your help. Please hurry and come home.” Your voice was as shaky as your hands were.

“I’m coming.” His voice wasn’t as cheery as when he first picked up. Obviously his first thought was that you were being attacked or someone was trying to break in. He wasn’t expecting the grisly scene he walked into.

He examined both guys, confirming they were dead, and you couldn’t really understand why he was smiling the entire time he was making his mental report. You couldn’t see anything good about having two dead men in your apartment.

“You did this? Yourself?” He finally looked up to you while poking the knitting needle protruding from the mans neck.

“I was scared! I didn’t know what else to do! I didn’t mean it.” He watched you try to explain yourself. He tried to imagine what was going through the men’s brains when his adorable girlfriend, wearing a skirt with knee high socks and buckle shoes started fighting back, especially with knitting needles. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you laughing!?”

“You’re just so... sexy. You got a little blood on your shirt too.” He got up off the floor and surprised you by sweeping you off your feet as you tried to find the blood stain he was talking about. “Don’t worry, I’ll get that shirt off you soon.”

Chuuya

If he could describe you as a color, it would be yellow. You were bright, fun, happy, you always found a way to put a smile on his face, even when he had the worst day. It was as if a ray of sun took form and for some reason decided that he was the one who deserved it.

Your spontaneous adventures, even if it was just to the park always kept things exciting. He would stand back and watch as you ran over to anyone with a dog, sitting on the ground in front of the furry animal as you looked up and conversed with the owner about the breed and how cute the dog was. He would hear about it for the rest of the day, your hands moving freely through the air as you described the dog, even though he was right there and seen it as well, he would smile and nod. You always found something to be excited about, even on days when it would rain and you both were stuck in the house you would find some way to make him forget about the dreariness of the outside world. Building pillow forts and watching movies as you both attempted to toss popcorn into each others mouths. You had a stash of board games for days like that, and you would let him pick which one he wanted to play. It was the simple things that he enjoyed.

Waking up to the sound of music drifting into the bedroom from the kitchen, your spot on the bed empty. He would groggily walk into the kitchen to find you in front of the stove, the smell of eggs and bacon and pancakes filled the room, but that wasn’t the best part. You would be wearing one of his button up shirts, and only that. Your hips would sway to the rhythm of the song and he’d just stand and watch, unable to fight the smile that would form on his lips and the feeling of pride as he watched you, knowing that you were his.

Other days he’d come home from work while you were straightening up, singing into the broomstick handle as if no one was watching and the living room was your stage. He’d shrug out of his coat, kick his shoes off and slide across the floor while playing the air guitar. You always put a smile on his face, everything you did was his favorite thing. He could never pick one particular thing that you did that made him happy, because honestly you in general made him happy.

Even when you weren’t being goofy, which was rare, but it did happen, he would take the time to sit back and appreciate your beauty. When you would curl up on the couch and drift off to sleep and he’d come home and find you there, he would just marvel at how perfect you were in that innocent state.

That’s why he did everything he could to keep you safe, make sure you were protected everywhere you went. Sure, it was kind of ridiculous to have the black lizards guarding every store you went into, but it was a precaution that needed to be taken. As long as his little drop of sun was safe he could relax.

The two of you were on your way to the restaurant, it was date night. You looked flawless, as usual, and Chuuya couldn’t wait to show you off. His phone started ringing and you picked it up for him so that he could keep one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh as he drove.

“Hi Mori!” You greeted him excitedly, and although he didn’t understand how Chuuya ended up with you, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice. You seemed to have that effect on anyone you came into contact with. “Will do! Thanks Mori! Buh-bye.” You shut the phone and put it back into the center console. Chuuya looked over to you, his eyes asking the question. “There’s some problem in an alley around the corner. He said it should be quick and you can handle it and get back to our date.”

He groaned but took the sharp turn that would lead to the alley in question. He saw the cloaked figure, like they were waiting for him. “Alright, this’ll be quick. Stay in the car.” He said, kissing your cheek before hopping out of the car.

You stared out the window, watching him stride into the alley. It sent a shot of electric up your legs, seeing him so dominant in situations like this. That was your man, and you couldn’t be prouder. You smiled as you watched him deliver kicks and punches to the figure in the alley, silently rooting for him.

Then you saw more figures coming from nowhere it seemed. There were at least six of them, and you started worrying. He would get hurt if he tried to fight all of them by himself, and you couldn’t have that. It would take too long to call someone and have them come out and help. Your mind raced as you tried to think of something to do, then you remembered the pistol that he had in the glove box. You pulled it out, checking to see if it had ammo, and then hopped out of the car.

“Hey, assholes!” You called, and everyone stopped to look at you. You cocked the gun and aimed it at them. Your hands didn’t shake, and you eyed up your target and pulled the trigger. Headshot.

The figures split up, some advancing towards you while the rest went after Chuuya. You fired the gun quickly, they all dropped like flies. Each one being hit exactly where you aimed. Headshots, chest shots, you even managed to get one in the throat which even you were shocked about. You moved further into the alley, pressing the barrel of the pistol against the head of the one who was about to attack Chuuya while he was fighting the first figure. “Not today, pal.” You said menacingly, pulling the trigger. Blood and bits of flesh and brain tissue splattered onto your face and you dropped the gun to the ground.

Chuuya finished with the final figure and ran over to where you stood. You were frozen, the warmth of the blood against your face made you want to vomit. “Are you okay?” He asked, grabbing your arms and examining them, then moving to the rest of your body to make sure there was no damage done. The amount of blood on you worried him, but once he realized that you were okay, he sighed with relief.

“I need a shower and and and and.... oh my god this is gross.” You couldn’t keep your hands from shaking as you tried to wipe the blood off your face.

“I mean, it’s pretty gross, but god damn, my bad ass little princess. Who would have thought?” His sense of pride sky rocketed.

After you both returned to the penthouse, the date was completely forgotten about at this point, and you both showered together. He rubbed your shoulders as the water fell over both of your bodies. The water was stained with red as you washed the blood from your face and when the shower was over you wrapped the towel around yourself and laid in the bed.

“You took the gun and you were like ‘bang bang bang’ and I was like ‘oh my god!’ And you shot all of them! How did you learn to do that?!” He was pacing the room in his boxers as he described the whole situation again, his feet padded against the floor leaving water footprints on the hard wood.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to get hurt, so I shot them.” You said it nonchalantly, rolling to your side and propping yourself up on your elbow. “Seems like you enjoyed it.” You joked and he whipped around to look at you. The look in his eyes, you knew the look well.

“Oh I enjoyed. I don’t think you know how much I enjoyed it.” His voice was low and husky.

“You can tell me.”

He got into the bed and situated himself over top of you, holding himself up with one arm while the other pulled open the towel that you had wrapped around yourself. “I think I’d rather show you.”

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd request #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #bsd scenarios #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya imagines #chuuya scenarios #chuuya headcanons #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai scenarios #dazai imagines #dazai headcanons

[yutaya]

In honor of Veterans’ Day here is a TUA post about a Vietnam AU

I remember the first time I read a fic where Five killed Dave and I was like “hey quick question WHAT THE FUCK.” Then I saw it again. And again. There are loads of fics out there where Five kills Dave. Sometimes it’s just another mission from the Commission and he doesn’t even realize until later. Sometimes he observes for a while, knows that killing Dave will break Klaus’s heart but figures it’s necessary and feels super bad but does it anyway.

Friends, I invite you to consider:

The Commission’s messages, we have seen, are brief. They have a history of supplying no background information and leaving the details to their agents to figure out. Time to identify, locate, and wait for the right moment to fulfill the mission, in a non-timeline-threatening manner seems to be standard - although they do also seem to be expected to perform quite quickly as well. (”Just the one night” “Job delay”) As an agent, Five likely arrives in the proper time period, checks in to a predetermined spot, collects any commission-provided gear and info, and then heads out to find his target. It’s not like he gets zapped to a spot, immediately kills whoever he lands in front of, and moves on.

In a city, strangers on the street are not suspicious. A businessman flirting with a donut shop owner is not strange. A woman heading towards a tow-truck shop, even late at night, is fairly unremarkable.

In Vietnam, Five is too old to be just another soldier, too white to be easily dismissed as a civilian. The boys might shrug him off as a higher up of some sort. Five is clever, after all, good at utilizing what he has, plus probably had some sort of period-blending training in remaining unremarkable wherever and whenever he may go. Maybe any typical 60s American soldier would not bat an eye at some unfamiliar face in the background.

Here is the thing: Klaus Hargreeves is not a typical 60s American soldier. Klaus Hargreeves is from the future. The truths of his life include facts that the boys around him would think impossible. More importantly, Klaus has personal experience with Commission agents. Any person in the background might be a random occupant of this time period. They might be a ghost. They might be a time-travelling assassin. Those exist. He’s spoken to their victims. Odds are high for background faces to belong there, but the other possibility will always exist.

The old man existing innocuously in the background is a new presence. He is idly flicking his eyes over the faces of the people around him. He has a briefcase. The commission's biggest advantage is that people do not know they exist. They do not know there is anything to be wary of. If there were someone who did know about them, well. All things considered, it isn’t hard for Klaus to clock the guy as an agent.

Once Klaus has recognized a time-travelling assassin in his midst, he might consider the “whys” of his appearance.

- The most likely scenario: he is here for Klaus. Klaus, after all, does not belong here. Moreover, Klaus is currently something of an active escapee from time-travelling assassins, who weren’t finished interrogating him, killing him, nor hunting down his brother, last he checked, not to mention probably pissed that the cops got on their tail. It makes too much sense, unfortunately, that they would want to hunt him down.

- The less probable possibility: he is here for someone else. One of the citizens of the nearest town, perhaps, or one of the officers, or a fellow soldier, or perhaps one of Klaus’s unit. One of Klaus’s friends. Maybe it is pure coincidence that Klaus is uniquely qualified to notice that the man in the background is someone who might be about to kill somebody. 

Maybe he will smother his victim with a pillow. Maybe he will torture them first, cut off both their hands and laugh about it. Maybe he will run them over with a vehicle, then back up over their body so he can run them over again. Forward, reverse.

Fuck. That.

Maybe Klaus confronts the agent on his own. Commission agents are trained murderers and Klaus can literally be killed in one hit by a furry at a rave, but maybe this future business is something he wants to protect his people from, and hey, the advantage of surprise has to count for something, right?

Maybe Klaus is smarter than that. Maybe he has spent the past half a year learning the value of a band of brothers, learning trust and friendship and love. Maybe he pulls Dave aside, tells him that the old man over there is an enemy, and Dave requires no evidence to believe him. Maybe they go to their team, to their sergeant and their captain.

Either way, a confrontation happens. Likely there is a least a brief skirmish. Commission agents are on missions to preserve the timeline, which can be very limiting in terms of acceptable collateral damage - probably Team Klaus’s saving grace. The old man, although Klaus does not know this, is a legend in the time-travelling assassin circles. He could have killed everyone in the surrounding vicinity in seconds, if he so desired. What really saves Klaus and anyone else who might have been marked to die on a little slip of paper, however, is that the old man sees Klaus’s face. If there is any imminent danger he avoids it; his survival instinct has been honed by decades of desperation - but other than that, he sees Klaus’s face, and he stops. Stares. Anyone else might say it looks like he’s seen a ghost. Klaus sees ghosts all the time, so he would say the guy looks stricken. Shocked and desperate and hopeful and despairing, all at the same time. Actually, now that Klaus is seeing him up close, there’s something familiar about this guy...

They’re not fighting. Klaus isn’t stupid, he knows he’s at a disadvantage when fighting, so if he can have a conversation with the assassin instead, that is absolutely what he is going to do. He tips his hand - might as well, if the agent is here for Klaus then he already knows Klaus knows there are time-travelling assassins, and if he is here for someone else, someone knowing will probably prompt a retreat and regroup. Starts asking about the agent’s mission, who he’s here for, maybe informs the guy that he won’t be taking anyone from here. Klaus has a gun trained on the guy; he has the advantage.

(Five lets people think they can point a gun and have him - he knows he can jump away at any time.)

Klaus talks, and he makes himself less a coincidental look-alike, less possibly-a-hallucination, and more actually, impossibly, Klaus. Adult Klaus, Klaus as Five last saw him, but alive, alive, moving and talking, not a broken corpse - 

Something gives. Five says something, does something - and Klaus, who knows about time-travel, who knows that his brother, the time-traveler, lived to be an old man before winding up back in his child body in 2019, who knows that this mysterious organization of time-travelling assassins was looking specifically for Number Five - Klaus realizes exactly who’s in front of him, and he lowers his gun, because - Five! That’s different! He can trust Five.

(If there are any fellow soldiers who were part of this confrontation, they are appalled. They hiss at him, “Hargreeves, what are you doing?!” It only makes the impossible hope in Five’s chest flare brighter.)

“Five!” Klaus exclaims. “You bastard, I thought you were here to kill me! Holy shit, you got old!”

It’s the nail in the coffin. This is, actually, somehow, Klaus. Five has so many questions that he will have to ask - what the hell did he miss with his siblings that led to Klaus being here, of all places? What’s the date Klaus came from - by the looks of him it can’t be too long until the apocalypse. Could whatever crazy Umbrella Academy adventure this must be be a part of that fight that ends so terribly for them? If it is, Five can get valuable intel, can learn about at least the first part of the eyeball owner’s plot, has here the first major break in the apocalypse case in four decades - 

- and, louder than those thoughts, his heart pounds a deafening drum of Alive Alive Alive Alive Alive Alive Alive Klaus is Alive One of my siblings is right here in front of me and he is ALIVE.

(And so Five finds out about one of the ways his efforts to save his family could have gone, but with more info he can make improvements this time. Forewarned is forearmed, and now he knows who the commission will send. He has a hint as to how to jump to his family - the idea of screwing up and landing in a younger body is not appealing by any means, but - how has he not considered projecting his consciousness into a suspended state of himself before!? This is huge breakthrough. He has a briefcase that isn’t tied to him making him easily trackable; he can use the briefcase Klaus traveled here with to get home right now, and choose a destination accurately. (He can get his brother out of this active warzone while he’s at it, and if Klaus raises his chin and states that he’s not going anywhere without Dave, well - fuck the Commission, anyway. They want the world to end - their rules are not worth following. Five would be delighted to give them the huge middle finger of displacing someone in time.)

Five abandons the Commission earlier than another version of himself did - at his earliest opportunity, same as that other version of himself. He’s eager to finally start saving his family.)

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #AU #my stuff #where your siblings can be shielded from rain #yes his name is five #four is the number of death #we all love klaus

[talesofhavekostca-blog]

Shangrila

Jack Burroughs

December 27th, 2014

Havekost, CA

“Joint.” Jesus says behind me, slightly below the music blaring from Jake’s speakers. I am uncertain if this is actually what he said, so I turn down the radio and yell “What?!”

“I said ‘Light up the fucking joint.’ Don’t you have a couple in your cigarette pack?” 

“Uh..-” I check my breast shirt pocket and pull out my near empty cigarette pack, the contents inside include three cigarettes, two joints and gram of wax in my cigarette cellophane. “Oh yeah, here.” I light up one and hand it to Jesus, and Jake puts up a fit,”Hey, Shouldn’t that’ve been passed to me? I’m the goddamned captain of this vessel! ”

Jesus hits the joints and passes it to Jake, “Dude, chill. Here.”

“Why do you care?” I say as Jesus hands him the joint and Jake inhales and says to me, “I’m pilot, I drive the big metal death machine. You are co-pilot, you handle knobs and or drive for me if I’m too drunk. Jesus, is the passenger. His opinion of anything doesn’t matter until we’re at the concert.”

Jesus says,”It’s because I’m mexican huh?”

“What? No.” Jake says horrified, “You didn’t call shotgun.”

“Oh shut up. That’s retarded. Fucking white people.”

The joint ends up in my hand again and I bogart it for a bit before handing to it Jesus. “Well I’m happy we finally got a night out for ourselves boys, tonight will comprise of alcohol and fun.” I say with confidence.

“Who’re we seeing again?” Jake asks, “Some shitty local bands, I think.” I say.

“We gotta support our local music scene maaan.” Jesus says sarcastically, he then adds, “Also, Jack’s girlfriend’s band’s playing there.” Way to blow my cover,comrade. Et Tu, Brute?

Jake yells “THE FUCKING CUNT’S GOING TO BE THERE.”

I say quietly, “Please don’t call her that. I’m seeing her and-”

He interrupts me, “YOU’RE PLOWING HER AND YOU’RE THINKING WITH YOUR DICK. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR NIGHT OUT YOU HEDONISTIC FUCKSTAIN! SHE IS THE SISTER OF MY ENEMY YOU BASTARD!”

Before I can plea my case, Jesus speaks up, “Man, leave him alone, he didn't know til this morning. She didn’t even tell him and I already knew since I jammed with them once. They are pretty good, especially the chick guitarist. Oh man, I’d eat her out for days. No bathroom breaks.”

Jake, dumbfounded, “I just imagined some blond girl with a mohawk, chained to your bed, covered in her own waste. You sure can paint a picture, can’t you? Wait, who has the joint?”

Jesus and I both, “You do.” 

Jake looks down at the half smoked joint in his hand and says meekly to no one in particular,“Oh...sorry. Here, Iago, light this.” He shoves it in my general direction and I try to re-light it. “That doesn’t even make sense, Iago didn’t betray Othello with his arch enemy’s sister.” I say, succeeding at my joint’s reignition, “Do you ever pay attention during Mr. Cruickspice’s drama class?”

“No, why would I, drama girls are the worst. If you’re looking for damaged, there’s the place to go. Also,  you admit your betrayal Jack? Eh, whatever, we’ll still make a night of it won’t we boys?” Jake smiles and I have a sick feeling in my stomach as we exit off the freeway, I can’t imagine whatever he’s planning. 

’m on the highway, a miles sign tells me “HAVEKOST 5 MILES, CENTRAL CITY 8 MILES,  ST. FRANCIS 18 MILES,DRESDEN FALLS 23 MILES”

How the fuck did I make it out here? I can at least be thankful that home is the closest as I walk down the highway, my shirt back on completely. I check my pack to see if I have a cigarette. I do, but notice that I now have a tiny car instead of the wax in the cellophane. That must have happened back with the homeless/furry thing. I light my last cigarette and a sign tells me that a diner is down the road a half a mile and I scream ‘thank god’ to the vastness that are the stars, I’m kind of still tripping.

 I make it to the diner and inside there is just a few waitresses and a few random people. No cops, all that matters. 

I sit down at the counter and ask for coffee. I check my wallet and luckily I still have everything. The Waitress says to me “You look like shit, hard night?”

“Ma’am I was in the middle of a furry orgy after getting split from my friends. I have seen the end of days and it isn’t soon enough.” She gets another waitress to cover me. I get my coffee and somebody decides to turn on the tv. The news plays. 

A older white male, with perfect almost square teeth says” Good Morning Havoc City! I’m Tom Thompson. Top Story: an Orgy in Black Justice Park was stopped by local police a few hours ago. Apparently a group of people dressed up in animal costumes were having a decadent display on public property. Excuse me as we switch to to Debra Hunn for more. Viewer Discretion is Advised “

Oh shit.

“Hello, Tom! I’m at Black Justice Park where hours ago, hedonists were having sex in this very public setting. We have video of them. Here’s one where they are doing the act of fornication.”

Yep, on the tv there is blurred mountain of people in animal suits fucking. I’m speechless. 

“Here is another video of them running from the scene, where we also found a...ahh..a random bystander in the mayhem urinating!” The video follows a group of them, one being the Dalmation, However I had caught the eye of the Camera Man , who turns, to see me, half of my shirt on and the other over my shoulder and I have a huge smile and I can make out myself saying “Would you like some tea, helicopter?”  And with my other hand, my dick, surprisingly uncensored peeing. Oh my god. I’m ruined.

Everyone in the Diner looks at me. One of them laughs, the others just ignore me. I ask the room if I can use a charger so I can use my phone for a ride. No one answers but a younger but still worn out waitress let me use her’s.

[ayma-nidiot]

In the White Light - Prideshipping fic Chapter 7

Also on AO3.

Chapter 7 – I’ll Soar Away

As shocked as he was, Yami Yugi allowed Kaiba to let him go, instead of trying to break free of his hold. “Kaiba… What is the meaning of this?”

“Dammit, are you as dumb as that shorter Yugi? Never before has someone told me that a game could be fun. Never before has someone provided me with a worthy challenge! Can’t you see, Pharaoh? I’m in love with you!”

“You… are?”

“Why are you surprised? Don’t you remember that time?”

“Oh!” Luckily, Yami Yugi wasn’t so dense as to have forgotten about the time travel to ancient Egypt.

“You would do all of that for me… Tell me, Pharaoh, do you feel the same?”

“Kaiba…” Between that kiss and this question, Yami Yugi’s mind was in such a fog that he couldn’t formulate an answer.

“Hey, what gives?” Joey interrupted. “Don’t put Yug on the spot like that! You know, you’ve always creeped me out because you’re way too rich for someone your age. Now you’re hitting on my best friend? Well, sort of my best friend.”

“Yeah. Don’t you think we have bigger things to worry about… Like, avoiding all of these monsters, for instance?” Téa added. “We just got done dealing with the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon, and we need to move!”

Wanting to avoid the topic of his dragon form, Kaiba replied in his usual grumpy manner, “Yeah, I know that!”

Just then, a familiar German voice called out from afar, “Mr. Kaiba! Mokuba! Are you guys hurt?”

“Roland! No, we’re fine,” Mokuba replied.

“That’s good, but I bring terrible news… The KaibaCorp building has been taken over by and monsters!”

“Great, more monsters…” Kaiba wasn’t too ecstatic to go back out there after what he had just gone through – unless, of course, it was in the name of his company.

“I’ve got a chopper ready for you and your… acquaintances, sir.”

“Thank you, Roland.” As everyone boarded this chopper, Kaiba spoke, “But may I remind you that I’m not your boss anymore?”

“Nonsense!” Another KaibaCorp employee answered. “We’re with you through the end.”

“See, Seto? We’re all here to support you?” Mokuba smiled as the chopper took off.

After an hour of awkward silence, Kaiba finally spoke up, “So let me guess. It’s Dartz, isn’t it?”

“Correct, sir. We’ve already dispatched a research team at the museum to decipher some tablets. We can learn even more about our enemy this way.”

Could have done that a week ago…

“I regret to inform you that Dartz has bought out all of KaibaCorp’s shares, too. They’ve hacked into your account as well as the building.”

“Well, that’s nothing I can’t handle.” Kaiba could tell the chopper was close to their destination. “As the former president, I am really the only one who needs to go in there. But just out of curiosity, is anyone coming?”

“I will, Seto!”

“Mokuba, no. You’ve been through enough danger for one day. Stay with Joey and the others, where it’s safe.”

“Uh… I guess… Téa, Joey, Mokuba, and I will go find the cops,” Tristan affirmed.

“So you guys are so creeped out by me kissing Yugi that you don’t want to be anywhere near me? Is that it?”

It was then that Yami Yugi spoke up and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Kaiba tried not to show his inner joy at this news as everyone exited the chopper, faced unexpectedly with Duke Devlin and two strangers.

“Professor! Rebecca! Duke!” Téa greeted these strangers. “It’s good to see you’re well!”

“Eh?” Kaiba only needed to take one look at the little girl, Rebecca, to decide he didn’t like her. “This isn’t a field trip, kid. You need to go home and take care of your grandpa.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Kaiba.” Rebecca pushed up her glasses. “If you’re going to retake KaibaCorp, then you’re going to need someone who can hack the computers. Someone like Grandpa and I.”

“Fine, then. I suppose you could tag along, kid.” Kaiba turned around as Yami Yugi went after him.

“I’m not a kid!” Rebecca and her grandfather followed suit. “Why don’t you try showing a little more gratitude for those of us sticking our butts out here for you!”

“Yeah, whatever.” The four soon arrived at two trap doors with ladders. “You need to take that trap door over there to get to the control room. Yugi and I will go this way.”

“Right! You’re going to be glad I ‘tagged along’ for this ‘field trip!’” With that, both Rebecca and her grandfather had taken off.

Though he was now alone with Yami Yugi, Kaiba didn’t let the events of a few hours prior cloud his judgment. “Try to keep up, Yugi,” he dared as he led the pharaoh down the other trap door and started running when they reached the floor.

“Keep up? To where?”

“This here is a shortcut to my central computer, designed for emergencies. Dartz shouldn’t have been able to disable it.” Kaiba explained when they reached the door to an elevator, and used his card key to open it. “See? Now come in.”

Yami Yugi had no qualms about entering the elevator, but as it started up, he couldn’t look Kaiba in the eye.

Ugh, this tension is killing me. Though the elevator ride was short, Kaiba didn’t exactly feel comfortable in this situation either. “So, um… Thanks for doing this for me, even though you could be doing your time travel thing instead.”

“Sadly, as things are right now, I can’t just leave the modern world as it is. My selfish wishes are nothing compared to what people of this time are going through.”

“Such a desire to fight for what you believe in… How gorgeous.”

Hearing such kind words, Yami Yugi could finally look at Kaiba again. Before he could say anything, a one-eyed furry monster dug a hole through the ceiling of the elevator and then through the elevator doors.

“What in the fu- No, it doesn’t matter what that was; we’re getting off here and now,” Kaiba asserted, ramming his Duel Disk into the elevator buttons. “Let’s go! Help me get these doors open!”

Even though the elevators were now broken, prying the doors proved to be easy; however, the new task of traversing the monsters that appeared wouldn’t be.

“They all have a weird green symbol on their heads… Yugi, what does this mean?”

“It means that these are real monsters, not holograms of yours.”

That’s what I was afraid of… Kaiba gulped. Only this time, I have to face these monsters as a human. “These can’t be real monsters! You’re no better than the lunatics who took over KaibaCorp.”

“Oh, they are. I don’t know how, but monsters from a different universe have found their way into our world. Do you have any better ideas, besides my ‘superstitious bullshit’ ideas?”

“I think you’ve gone batshit, but this isn’t the best time to argue.”

“We’ve got nothing to lose!” Yami Yugi proclaimed, getting his Duel Disk ready for battle and prompting Kaiba to do the same. “Let’s go, Kaiba!”

“Vorse Raider, go!” Kaiba called forth a monster.

“I summon my obnoxious Celtic Guardian!” Yami Yugi spoke as he put this card on his Duel Disk. He knew that these mid-level monsters would not be able to last long, and led Kaiba to the other end of the corridor. “Make a run for it! Say… There’s a card key slot here. You can get us through this door, right?”

“What do you think I am, stupid?” Kaiba attempted to use his card key to get in, but only got an “access denied” response, even after trying twice.

“Yes… Yes, I certainly think you are.” When Yami Yugi looked up again, the enemy monsters approached even more closely. “Our monsters are gone… We’re done for!”

“No you’re not!” sounded a voice from the card key slot.

“Rebecca!”

“Need some help, boys?” Rebecca spoke as the doors opened, letting Kaiba and Yami Yugi enter the next corridor safely, and her voice continued over the P.A. “With my computer, I can hack into the KaibaCorp system. Kaiba, let me know if you want me to upgrade your system for you.”

“Can it, you kid… I mean… Thanks.”

“However, there’s just one problem… I can’t access the central computer.”

“But I can! Incidentally, guess where we just arrived? I’ll take it from here.” With that, Kaiba got to work on the central computer right awake. “With this, we can enhance those photos my men took at the museum.”

Kaiba swiped his card key again as the computer took biometric from him. “Voice recognition, set! Reboot with the backup system! Begin analyzing images! Cross-reference all the archaeological databases!”

“You… came prepared,” Yami Yugi remarked.

“It’s a week’s worth of hard work.” Symbols and inscriptions showed up on the large LED screens above, and Kaiba asked, “Professor, if you can hear me, what do these inscriptions mean?”

“Let’s see… They translate to, ‘After its 10000-year-long slumber, the black serpent will swallow the sun, and then paradise will rule once more.’”

“That insignia… I know I’ve seen it before…” Kaiba spoke as he typed into the computer. “It’s… the symbol of a secret financial organization, Paradius! And its president is… Oh, no! Yugi, it’s Dartz! This situation just got a lot stickier… We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You see, during a vision quest, I saw that man fight in an ancient Atlantean war. What confuses me, though, is how this 10000-year-old man is still alive today.”

“Make no mistake about it, I am indeed very much alive,” a voice spoke before the computers started to blow up, and distorted shadows started taking their places.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” Kaiba demanded.

“My, oh my… If it isn’t Seto Kaiba and the legendary so-called pharaoh. How is Timaeus’ eye, by the way?”

“Dartz!” Starting into the eye of his new enemy. Kaiba drew the Fang of Critias from his deck and held it at the ready. “Give me back my company, you prick!”

“And release the souls you’ve stolen!” Yami Yugi held the Eye of Timaeus in his right hand. “Duel us!”

“Hmm, let me think about it…” Dartz crossed his legs as he floated in the air, and looked up. “No.”

“That does it!” Kaiba and Yami Yugi summoned their dragons in unison. “We summon the dragons Critias and Timaeus!”

“Timaeus, attack!” Yami Yugi ordered.

But before Timaeus’ attack could hit Dartz, he had summoned a dragon, which shattered into a thousand holographic pieces.

“I don’t feel like dueling you today… Farewell, gentlemen!”

“Wait! Dartz, come back!” Yami Yugi shouted, but to no avail as the dragons – and warped shadows – disappeared to reveal the real world again.

“We can worry about Dartz later…” Kaiba noticed more monsters breaking in through the doors, and opened another elevator as an escape route. “Come in, quickly!”

Fortunately for them, this elevator was much quicker than the last one, and promptly took Kaiba and Yami Yugi to the roof. That didn’t mean Kaiba enjoyed what awaited him thence. “Great, what a surprise! More monsters!”

“There are too many of them, even for monsters as strong as ours.” Yami Yugi wasn’t afraid, even in the face of these odds, and said, “I know the best way to stop them.”

“Yugi, are you insane? I’ll call a plane and-” Kaiba wanted to search his deck for a strong monster before Yami Yugi could sing more words of the incantation. But it was just then that a couple of Assault Wyverns grabbed his arms and dug their claws into them. “Oh, no…”

Too busy dealing with the monsters in front of him, Yami Yugi didn’t notice the Red-Eyes Black Dragon about to attack him from the rear.

“Yugi! Watch out behind you!”

Though Kaiba now escaped from the monsters holding him back, it was too late, as the Red-Eyes Black Dragon set Yami Yugi’s back on fire. “Aaaaah!”

“Yugi!” Kaiba desperately searched his deck for a water-based card. “Water Hazard, do your thing!”

“Kaiba… Thank you,” Yami Yugi spoke when Water Hazard dissipated. “Even after I… practically rejected you. Even though you appear to be… urk! Even if you appear to be a… cruel person, I know there’s some good… in you… No matter what… Joey says…”

“I don’t give a damn about that right now! Just… please, don’t die…”

“What’s already dead can’t die, you know that.” Yami Yugi let out a weak chuckle, then passed out.

“Pharaoh… Pharaoh, no!” Kaiba cried as he held Yami Yugi’s unconscious body close to him. He hardly noticed, but all the while he felt a warm light brewing within him. “Please… I love you. I want to save you… Please, dear gods, I’ll do anything.”

Though this event occurred at the roof of the KaibaCorp building, Téa and Tristan could see a column of light towering to the sky.

“Oh, gosh… Tristan, something is happening at KaibaCorp, and it doesn’t look good!”

“Hey, what’s happening?” Rebecca – along with Duke and her grandfather – had caught up with the pair at last.

“Something tells me that Kaiba and the pharaoh are in trouble!” Tristan started running before the others could really get a handle on what was going on. “Come on, guys, let’s go!”

“Um… I don’t understand, but I trust you.” With that, Rebecca followed the others in the direction of the KaibaCorp building.

Still aglow, Kaiba hoisted Yami Yugi onto his back. With all the confidence he could muster, he jumped off the roof, and after freefalling for five seconds, he had morphed into the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon once more.

“Raaaaar!” Kaiba unleashed a Shining Burst on the Red-Eyes Black Dragon that had attacked them, disintegrating it instantly.

This attack – and a few others that followed – was loud enough to awaken Yami Yugi, who had been sleeping at the base of Kaiba’s neck. “Kaiba…”

Having just defeated the last of the nearby enemies, Kaiba turned his head slightly to get a good look at the pharaoh.

“Don’t be shocked; I know it’s you, and I know you’ve saved me… I’m so fortunate… to have someone like you.” Yami Yugi reached his arms as far as he could around Kaiba’s neck, burying his face into it while he hugged him.

Too embarrassed now, Kaiba simply continued to fly while facing forward.

Before Kaiba could fly much further, Yami Yugi’s friends noticed the both of them – and Téa was the first. “Hey, it’s that Shining Dragon again! And he’s got the pharaoh!”

“You’re not getting away this time! I’m going to save the world from you today! Hermos, go save Yug!”

This time, Kaiba wasn’t so far into his own madness that he couldn’t think for himself. Oh Dweeb Patrol, your timing couldn’t be any worse! Unable to parry the Claw of Hermos in time, Kaiba had taken the full blow, plummeting to the ground along with Yami Yugi.

“Yugi! I’ve got you!” Téa caught Yami Yugi right before he could hit the concrete.

“Wait, look who else it is… It’s Kaiba! W-Whoah!” Before Joey could react, Kaiba landed on top of him, though Joey felt well enough to get up right away. “Ow, lay off the steaks, ya turd.”

“Ngh…” Kaiba managed to awaken upon crashing on top of Joey. “For the record, this ‘turd’ just saved your friend the pharaoh.”

“But we didn’t even see you up there on that Shining Dragon…” Joey ran a hand through his hair, and in a mocking tone he said, “Wait, let me guess. The dragon ate you and you somehow managed to slice it open from the inside. Quite a tall tale, if you ask me.”

“Joey, look!” Rebecca pointed at the claw wound on Kaiba’s chest.

“No way… That’s from the Claw of Hermos! So do you mean to tell me…”

“It’s about time you twerps figured it out. That dragon was me.”

“What?!” Everyone exclaimed in unison.

Kaiba used the ball of his hand to help himself get up. “And did I mention that I was the same dragon that you guys attacked about a week ago? The same dragon that fled from you because I was too damned afraid to show my face to the pharaoh?”

“Yeesh… Sorry.” Joey felt tempted to punch Kaiba earlier for landing on him, but let it go. “Look, for what it’s worth, we’ve helped you take back KaibaCorp… Well, at least the building. Isn’t that a good enough apology?”

“Hmph.” Kaiba held out a hand to shake, which Joey accepted. “Even I know to give credit when credit is due. But don’t expect me to be this nice again!”

Just when things started to get cozy, Joey could hear a loud motorcycle in the distance. He couldn’t quite catch the face of his opponent, but noticed a flash of spiky brown hair. “That was Valon…”

“I’m sorry?”

“Valon, come here, ya bastard!” Without another word, Joey had taken off in the direction of that motorcycle.

“Joey, you reckless buffoon, wait up!” At those words, Tristan was gone too.

“Must want revenge on him for stealing Mai Valentine…” Téa turned back to her friends. “So… So is Yugi- I mean, the pharaoh going to be okay?”

Kaiba scooped Yami Yugi up and carried him bridal style. “Once I get him to the hospital, yeah.”

“Don’t be stupid! You’re almost as badly injured as he is!”

“You underestimate me.” Kaiba left the vicinity before his own employees could find him. Besides, the pharaoh has his own score to settle, and I’ll make certain he does.

#yugioh #kaiba x atem #kaiba x yami yugi #ygo #prideshipping

[whoneedsapublisher]

When The Past Comes Calling

Chapter 4: The Asphalt Jungle Ao3 link

This chapter is a little more eventful than the last couple. The continuing adventures of Noir Nico, for another 3700 words. Still Nico x Maki. Although, uh, not exactly domestic bliss.

So far, my day wasn’t the kind of eventful that made the broadsheets, but I might at least get a cameo in some personal diaries.

“Dear diary,” our hypothetical mobster might write, contemplatively chewing the end of his worn down pencil, probably used mostly for jotting down scores. “Today that idiot Nick showed up and started snoopin’ around, so I told him to get lost or I’d punch him in the face. He’s still incredibly attractive and has a wonderful voice.”

Alright, so maybe the devolution into love letter was more fantasy than deduction. So sue a girl for indulging in a little bit of optimism on a day that made pessimism real easy.

My plan had gone over about as well as asking for a car bomb at an Irish bar. The goons had clearly already gotten marching orders, and as soon as I brought up Arnati I got shown the door with all the subtlety I’d come to expect from heavies. That is to say, when they threatened me, they didn’t specify which bones they’d break.

That alone wasn’t enough to completely kneecap the plan, as long as I avoided losing my own kneecaps. I couldn’t get to Arnati by playing Johnny Rumorseed and sowing panic in the ranks, but my position served me well. I was someone who sometimes gave tips to the mob about ongoing investigations. And so I knew which ears to whisper those tips into.

 The first pair of those ears belonged to Jimmy the Weasel. Jimmy’s name was an accurate one. Aside from the fact that he was about as trustworthy as his namesake, his long nose and wispy moustache made him look like he’d be more than at home if he sidled up to a pack of furry woodland rodents and started whispering about where they could find bird’s nests. Jimmy was the kind of traitor that no one really felt betrayed enough by to kill. Sure, he’d sell you out, but he’d sell out whoever he sold you out to right back to you. And if you knew your enemy, he’d sell them out in advance and feed them lies when they bought him off. Using Jimmy was a fine art, and the masters of it profited.

And so did Jimmy. Whatever crazy tricks he’d pulled to get here, he was now in the enviable position of being paid to tell the truth, to lie, and to shut up. Somehow, throughout all this, he carefully avoided backing the losers too much or crossing the wrong people.

I wasn’t deep enough in mob politics to play the bad info game with Jimmy, and didn’t have the money or influence to get truth out of him. So to Jimmy, I was two things: someone who gave him info to sell or lie about, and someone he told whatever he’d “heard”. Usually it was bullshit, often bullshit he’d been paid to say, but you can learn a lot from what people want to be said.

“Your info’s bad, Nick.” Right now, though, he was giving me bad news that I did trust him on. “Ain’t no foreign cops looking for trouble. Arnati’s got out of town business, alright, but he’s got his victim real scared. No way she’s ratting him out.”

“Yeah? How are you so sure, Jimmy?” I asked, waving off the cigarette he offered me. I was no stranger to vice, but I didn’t smoke. It wasn’t out of habit from that sort of thing being banned as an idol- I indulged in plenty of things that would have gotten me thrown out of my agency. No, even if I entertained no illusions about my future prospects, the risk of damaging my voice and my lung capacity just never appealed. I still had my pride. Plus my job meant being able to run fast and a for a long time could be very useful.

Jimmy, however, smoked like a chimney. Between that and how thin he was, I wondered just how much stress he endured playing his high stakes game of “too useful to die.” It wasn’t a job you could retire from, either. If he backed away from the web of betrayal, it would just give resentment time to fester and someone would realize there was no longer any gain in delaying their revenge.

“Arnati’s got ears in the police and he’s been listenin’ hard lately. He ain’t heard nothing, and no way out of towners would make a move without letting our hometown boys know.”  I swore internally. I figured Arnati would be sitting on his heels, and would be startled if anything went wrong, but he must have been more worried about Nishikino than I’d expected. If he was watching the cops, he’d never believe that the law was ready to make a move. Jimmy was right- any other jurisdiction would give the local precinct a heads up before they started planning any moves.

“Well, guess my warning’s not much good.” I said, putting my coat back on and standing to leave the dingy little bar we were chatting in. Jimmy spend a lot of time in bars. Probably hoping that he’d be less likely to catch a bullet with a pack of witnesses around. “I assume you won’t take it too personal if I verify your story?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Hey, no one ever trusts me when I’m telling the truth.” It was true. If Jimmy told you the sky was blue, you’d look up to check.

Unfortunately for me, Jimmy wasn’t spreading tales for cash this time. Everywhere I went, I got the same story: Whoever had told me that out of town cops were ready to jump on this had bad info or was lying, because the police didn’t have so much as a hint of anyone setting up in their town. Even my police contacts confirmed they didn’t have any joint operations coming up. I didn’t bother to tell them that Arnati had someone inside the department. They probably already knew.

Then again, I already knew they didn’t have any joint operations, being as I’d made the whole thing up, but I’d still asked. It would look too suspicious for me not to. You never knew who might be gathering information about you when you were trying to gather information.

My last hope was that Arnati’s paranoia meant he was worried enough to cash out and see the back of this whole affair. If I wanted to find that out, I knew my next stop. 

Lorenzo Crane was a cold man, and not one I liked dealing with. He was unsettling, and there was something… off about him. I’d never seen him out of a suit, for one thing. Everyone went off duty, but either Lorenzo managed to keep to himself to a level approaching bigfoot’s legendary elusiveness, or he wasn’t part of “everyone”. On top of that, I’d never heard him speak in any voice other than a measured, low tone, just that tiny hint quieter than a normal man spoke. It put you in mind of a motionless wolf. Just because it wasn’t being aggressive didn’t mean you were more than a few seconds from dead.

But if you needed to deal with the mob without rattling too many chains or being too direct, he was one of the best points of contact. He worked out of an office on the east side of town, in an area that looked run down but an observant eye would notice was severely lacking in vagrants and street rats. There was money here, but it was money that didn’t want to announce itself.

Lorenzo was a somewhat of a professional broker. Of everything. Drugs, blackmail material, counterfeits, kidnapping, assassination- name an illegal good or deed that money changed hands to accomplish, and Lorenzo could turn your money into it, or turn your services into money. I had the sneaking suspicion that if he was put into jail, crime would ebb like someone pulled the stopper on a bathtub. It’d take years for anyone to rebuild his networks of buyers and sellers.

We weren’t on the best of terms, given what side of the law I tended to live on, but Lorenzo was a man who firmly believed in burning no bridge he might someday wish to cross.

“I do not know how you found out about this arrangement, Mister Young. I would quite like to know, in fact.” Despite his words, Lorenzo gave no indication of surprise when I brought up Nishikino and Arnati’s little “agreement” over Nishikino’s keepsake.

“I will not bother to ask. I am sure you will not tell me.” Lorenzo was continuing, not waiting for a response. “However, I can give you the answer to your question now: Mister Arnati will not be selling the item for any price other than what he has suggested to the legitimate owner. He has instructed me to decline any offers, even if you happen to have what he requested from the client. He will deal only with the original holder.”

Lorenzo’s voice was generally unreadable, but I could detect a faint hint of displeasure. If Arnati spoke to him about this deal, only to tell him he wasn’t taking offers, that meant one of two things. Either Blake was getting some kind of sick pleasure from making Nishikino send the photos herself, or he wasn’t planning to return the box even if she did pay up, stringing her along with the threat of its destruction to make more and more demands. Probably both- if the crime was motivated by the sting of rejection, he probably wouldn’t stop until she’d utterly debased himself or he’d destroyed the thing out of spite. Hopefully, he wanted the photos enough that he hadn’t done so already.

Either way, it meant that my plan was dead in the water.

“I would advise that you leave, Mister Young. We have no further business, and you make many of my clients… nervous.” I didn’t need to be told twice. This area of town always made me paranoid. I worried someday I’d walk into the wrong alley and find out too much to keep breathing.

I beat feet out of Crane’s office and back towards my own.

 As night started to fall on the city, I unlocked the door of my office and collapsed into my chair. I’d never been one for drugs, and I kept drinking in moderation, but I’d tasted enough illicit pleasures to get the measure of them. Not a lot of them matched the bliss of putting my feet up after walking all day. And after today, I could use some simple pleasures like that.

What I could also use was a stiff drink.

As I cracked open a bottle of whiskey and poured myself a glass, I glanced at my clock and grimaced. Any minute now, Nishikino would come through my door. And she wasn’t going to like what I had to say.

I didn’t much like what I had to say either.

Before I could spend too much time thinking in circles about why I wasn’t looking forward to kicking my past right back out of my life again, my door opened and Nishikino swept in.

“So, how’s it going?” Nishikino’s outfit today wasn’t playing at being casual. She was in a long dress, black as midnight with twinkles of starlight running through it, flashing and glinting in the light when she moved. A slit ran up the side of it, giving tempting flashes of her long, pale leg. The neckline was high enough to be modest, but low enough to showcase a predictably expensive necklace. She looked like she should be attending an opera, or a fancy private screening, not standing in a dingy office. In other words, she looked unbearably beautiful.

Her voice, however, was notably worried.

“It’s not.” I said. No point delaying. Anyone who told you that you should prefix bad news with formalities and pleasantries was a showman who relished the drama or dense as a twelve gauge slug. The faster you got to the news, the less time the recipient spent stewing in suspense. “The case is over. Go to the police.”

Nishikino paled. “What? What do you mean?” I was a little surprised at how desperate she sounded. I half expected her to dismissively state that I’d performed exactly as expected and flounce out. After my relationship with her, the idea that she’d actually had some kind of faith in me was a strange one. “I thought you said you were the best detective in town! Can’t you solve any case?” Seemed like she hoped to appeal to my pride. If you were working with a twenty year old playbook, it was the kind of move you’d come up with. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t twenty years younger, and pride didn’t come into this.

“There is no case, Nishikino. There’s no mystery here. You know who stole it already. You want me to crack the case? Here: Arnati stole it. He lives in the Silver Arches casino, penthouse suite.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not the police, you know? I can’t walk into his lobby and place him under arrest. I took the job because I had an idea of how to get him to sell, and it didn’t work. He won’t cash out.”

Nishikino clenched her fists by her sides and glared at me as I took another drink. “So that’s it then? You’re just giving up?”

I looked back at her impassively. “Call it what you want. I’m an investigator and I investigated.”

Nishikino was nearly shaking with rage now. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe I ever thought you were someone worth respecting. I can’t believe you’re who Nico became.” Now the knives came out. What a shock. Nishikino, insulting me when she didn’t get her way. Ever the spoiled princess. Well, I was done getting angry. I’d lost control before, upset by the sudden reappearance, but now this was just painful reruns.

In retrospect, it was almost impressive how quickly my calm front crumbled.

“I thought we were the same.” she continued, still glaring. “You were striving to be an idol, I was striving to be a doctor. But in the end, I became a doctor, and here you are, burnt out and giving up.”

I slammed my glass on the counter so hard that the glass cracked. “We were never the same!” All thoughts of keeping my cool were out of the window. I was seething with rage, and practically roaring at Nishikino. “You strived. Bullshit! BULLSHIT!”

I was out of my chair now, the pain in my feet utterly forgotten as I stalked over to her. “You know nothing. Not a single god damn thing. You accuse me of giving up?! Who left μ’s first?! Who tossed away being an idol like a cheap dress you got bored of wearing?” Nishikino looked as if she wanted to retort to that, but I didn’t give her the chance.

“You didn’t climb your way to the top! You didn’t reach success by fighting for every inch, risking everything to move that little bit closer to the finish line! You had your fun with us silly little idol girls you knew in highschool, then you decided it was time to grow up and hopped on your gold plated escalator from the last year of highschool right to the top of daddy’s hospital.”

“How dare you!” Nishikino managed to get a word in now. “I wasn’t handed my position! I worked hard to get where I am!”

“Worked hard?” I spat. “The fact that you think that studying diligently is the same thing, even in the same league as what I did is why you’ll never understand. It’s why you were never like me. You know what you are, Nishikino? You’re a gym instructor, telling a boxer that you know exactly what their life is like, that you’ve gone through the same thing, because you work yourself ragged punching a speedbag.”

I was getting closer and closer the angrier I got, and Nishikino took a half step back, cowed into silence.

“Tell me, Nishikino, when you were cracking the spines of books and looking at the clock, feeling so brave for studying in the dead of the night, did you ever ruin anyone? Did you ever walk into a room with twenty young girls, eyes full of stars and hope, and say to yourself ‘I’m going to destroy the future of everyone here’? Did you ever watch someone’s dream die in front of you because you snatched their last chance away from them, because you needed it climb higher, higher, ever higher to reach that impossible summit? Did you ever crush someone’s ambitions because only one of you could get that TV spot, only one person can be number one in the rankings, and no one remembers number two a week later? Did anyone ever put a knife in your back? Did you ever have to just accept a betrayal and move on, smiling for the crowds an hour after someone you thought was a friend tried to send you to the gutter?”

I turned away from her, staring out the window, unable to look at her face any more. I could see myself reflected in the dirty glass, and my eyes were hard. “Did your whole world ever fall apart, Nishikino? Did you ever realize that after years and years, no amount of talent or work could make you new and exciting again? That no amount of training could stop time from destroying your natural gifts?”

I turned back to her, my anger cold now, still intense but no longer wild and fiery. “No. Of course you didn’t. You just kept on working hard and doing your best and everything fell into place. You didn’t have to put your life back together because it never fell apart. Never even cracked. And now you come in here crying because for the first time in your life, you lost something you wanted. Well you know what, Nishikino? I don’t care. I don’t give a damn if Arnati burns your stupid first all A’s report card or whatever the hell he stole.”

I walked back behind my desk, leaving Nishikino in silence as I inspected my now worthless glass before tossing it in my trash bin. Lucky it was empty when I slammed it. No sense wasting whiskey on Nishikino’s self-absorbed tantrum.

“It’s not a report card.” Nishikino managed. Her voice was shaking, but it wasn’t rage. She sounded like she was going to cry. Good.

“What the fuck do I care what it is?” I asked, fishing out another glass from a drawer.

“It’s a memento of the only person I’ve ever truly loved.”

I stopped midway through opening my bottle.

I hadn’t thought I had a lot of illusions about my relationship with Nishikino. But it was only now that I realized I’d stupidly clung to one improbable belief- that Nishikino, had, at one point, actually loved me.

But no. Here it was, signed and stamped and ready to be presented to a lawyer- proof that she’d never cared at all. There was only one person in her life, ever. Everyone before that wasn’t worth mentioning.

“Please.” Nishikino’s voice was trembling worse now. “Nico, please, I’ll give you anything.”

“Anything?” My head was spinning and my heart ached. Reeling and in pain, I lashed out. “What if I asked you for your body? What if I told you that I wanted more than pictures, that I wanted a live show? What if I told you to sleep with me?” That’s what I’d wanted, once upon a time, wasn’t it? Hadn’t I wanted Nishikino to give herself to me?

Nishikino looked away. “...The only reason I didn’t send him the photos is I know he won’t return it if I do.” she said, quietly. “I’ll do anything to get it back. Even that.”

My jaw clenched and I put down the bottle before I risked breaking more glassware. My veins burned with poison, jealously pumping out from my heart with every beat. Nishikino was willing to go that far just for a trinket of this person. They were worth anything to her. I wasn’t even worth a phone call. For twenty. Damn. Years.

“...Leave an address.” I growled. Nishikino looked at me again and I continued. “I’ll get your fucking box, you will pay me a hundred thousand dollars for it, and I’ll send it to your hotel room. But you are never allowed to come back. Send me a penny less, or show your goddamn face here again, and it’ll find a new home in the incinerator.”

Nishikino opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Don’t say a goddamn word. Just leave the address in the mailbox downstairs and get the fuck out. Now.”

She did. And this time, my feelings about the prospect of her walking back out of my life weren’t mixed at all.

I could have asked for more. A hundred thousand dollars was a clearly unreasonable price, but it was easy enough for Nishikino to afford. I could have demanded millions, or unreasonable favours, or made impossible demands to be cruel. But I didn’t care. I just wanted money and wanted her to go away.

And now I had the same impossible damn job I’d tried to give up on once before. But at least Nishikino’s dress had given me an idea for how to get the box.

And if I died trying this stupid, dangerous, insane plan, at least then I’d be free of the memory of the look Nishikino had in her eyes when she was talking about the person she loved. Because right now, it was burned into my retinas so hard that when I closed my eyes, I couldn’t see anything else.

#love live #nicomaki

[superman86to99]

Adventures of Superman #500 (June 1993)

OVERSIZED ANNIVERSARY ISSUE! Featuring the return of Superman! And Superman! And Superman, and also, Superman! But first: The Badass Adventures of Pa Kent in Hell. The last time we saw ol’ Pa, he’d just had a heart attack and seen a ghostly vision of his dead son (that’s Superman, for those joining us), who grabbed his hand and pulled Pa towards him. Now Ghost Superman is like, “Whelp, nice seeing you dad, gotta go.”

Superman is taken “into the light” by a couple of demons disguised as robed Kryptonian ladies. However, Pa refuses to give up on his son and follows them, only to find himself in a battlefield covered with corpses -- those of his Korean War buddies. Pa is (understandably) confused and thinks he’s back in the war, carrying out a mission to rescue some captured “airman”. Private Pa then comes across a farm littered with more dead people, including one that reminds him of his brother Harry... mainly because that’s exactly who it is.

In case you hadn’t noticed, something fishy is going on here. A demonic-looking enemy soldier tries to kick Pa out of wherever the hell this is (get it? hell?), but Pa just punches him into oblivion and soldiers on. Sometimes you just gotta punch some Nazis, folks.

Next up, Pa runs into Lady Blaze, the satanic mistress/recurring Superman baddie. Blaze generously offers to help Pa find his son in exchange for one million do-- I mean, his soul. Pa apparently thinks “eh, I don’t love him that much” and prefers to jump into the void beneath him.

At this point, Pa is saved from pinballing from sad memory to sad memory for all eternity by Kismet, the nice cosmic entity Superman met a while back (“our favourite naked outer space lady in a cape”, as Don Sparrow puts it). With Kismet’s guidance, Pa finally finds Superman, but he’s in the middle of some sort of weird funeral procession carried out by more demons disguised as Kryptonians (and Superman’s old furry friend, the Cleric).

Superman has completely fallen for the show these guys put on, and is prepared to let them take him to the “Kryptonian afterlife”, but Pa eventually breaks the spell with his hollering. More punching ensues!

Superman gets rid of the demons, but he still thinks that Pa should go back to the land of living without him. He’s been gone for too long, and it’s not his place to deny death. Superman’s Kryptonian father Jor-El suddenly shows up to reinforce this notion, telling Superman to join him and his biological mother, Lara, in the afterlife. It is the natural way of things.

Naturally, Pa Kent ain’t having any of that.

Pa practically carries Superman through the portal in front of them. Cut to: Pa waking up in a hospital bed in Smallville, whispering “Clark is back” to a freaked out Ma Kent and Lois Lane.

Suddenly, Superman sightings are reported all over Metropolis -- it’s like he’s in four places at once! Lois refuses to give herself any false hopes, but just to make double-sure her fiancee is still dead, she decides to take a peek inside his tomb. Inspector Henderson opens the casket for her, and it’s... empty?!

TO BE CONTINUED! But first...

Epilogue 1: Two rival gangs are fighting over turf when one pulls out some futuristic super-weapons that literally blow the other guys to pieces. As the cops roll in, out of the rubble emerges a hulking figure saying “DOOMSDAY! GOTTA STOP DOOMSDAY!” Holy shit, it’s Superman! He’s back! Also, black!

Epilogue 2: As an evildoer tries to carjack an innocent citizen, a caped figure flies to the rescue... and blasts the absolute crap out of the would-be thief with some energy blasts, throwing him off the roof of a building. The familiar figure explains that he’s “risen from the dead” and been changed by “the fire and darkness” -- OK, that has to be Superman. There’s no other explanation.

Epilogue 3: There’s an emergency at Project Cadmus, the genetic experimentation facility that recently held Superman’s corpse: some type of secret cloning experiment has broken out before it/he was ready. We see this brash young clone being led to the outside world by the Newsboy Legion, and upon hearing the way they refer to him, he exclaims: “DON’T EVER CALL ME SUPERBOY!” Because he’s actually Superman! Oh my God!

Epilogue 4: A tourist family stops in front of the Daily Planet and reflects solemnly on the plaque marking the spot where Superman died... until a man in blue tights lands from the sky, rips out the plaque, and burns it with his heat vision. We then see that he’s got robot parts all over his body; you know, as if he’d been brought back to life after being pummelled to death by a monster. Whelp, that’s it. That’s Superman, right there.

Character-Watch:

First appearance of these four mysterious Supermen: Black Superman, Blind Superman, Brat Superman, and Beep-Bop-I’m-a-Robot Superman. Or is it?!

Creator-Watch:

This is a suitably epic finale for Jerry Ordway’s original Superman run, which started way back in 1987. Ordway went from artist to co-plotter to writer/artist to just writer, along the way pioneering the house style that all Superman series will use throughout the ‘90s. This is often called the “Byrne” and/or “Jurgens” era, but I’d argue that Ordway was the single most influential creator involved in this period, and although what comes directly after his departure is cool as hell, we’ll definitely miss the heart, humor and realism he brought to even the most obscure background characters.

Speaking of which, this wouldn’t be an Ordway comic without a shit-ton of subplots, so here we go...

Plotline-Watch:

One detail I never caught as a kid: one of the “Superman sightings” at the end of the issue is clearly a drunken Bibbo in a Superman shirt.

The Final Misadventure of Jose Degaldo: He’s been beaten, burned, broken (literally), had buildings dropped on him, and dumped by both Lois Lane and Cat Grant, but Jose “Gangbuster” Delgado has finally had enough -- he’s ditching Metropolis. A regular crime-punching adventure goes wrong when Jose accidentally beats up an undercover cop posing as a drug dealer. Upon learning there’s a warrant for his ass and getting shot by another cop, Jose decides to call it quits and leave town (using the bus ticket Inspector Henderson recently gave him). He’s actually going to Fawcett City along with his creator -- he’ll show up again in Jerry Ordway’s Power of Shazam, but that’s it for Jose in these pages! Goodbye, Suicide Slum’s rose.

Incidentally, Cat Grant is feeling rather down since she split with Jose, and her boss Vinnie Edge uses the opportunity to invite her to dinner. She agrees, even though A) her relationship with Vinnie’s son did not end well, and B) he’s a disgusting perv who just grabbed her butt. Don Sparrow says: “The interplay between Cat Grant and Vinnie Edge hasn’t aged well -- though in some ways it seems timelier than ever.”

The “favor” Vinnie mentions above is not what you might think: he wants Cat to talk to Jimmy Olsen, who has neglected his duties as star of the hit Turtle Boy TV series ever since a certain pal of Jimmy’s was violently killed. Jimmy isn’t in the mood for light-hearted TMNT copyright infringement, though, so the series is currently on reruns.

Those Turtle Boy reruns are watched by the cellmate of Oswald Loomis -- aka Superman’s least intimidating rogue, The Prankster. Loomis, once a children’s entertainer himself, doesn’t appreciate ‘90s television and tries to electrocute said cellmate (who, in my memory, was Vinnie’s son Morgan Edge, making this scene slightly less random).

Pa Kent smashing the ghostly Jor-El with a shovel that materializes out of nowhere is, of course, a shout out to John Byrne’s classic Man of Steel #6, when he does the same thing. I want a full series about Pa dispatching Kryptonian ghosts the same way. His maligned brother Harry was also mentioned in a Byrne comic, World of Smallville #1.

As usual, I’m forgetting or lazily leaving out plenty of important details, so check out Don Sparrow’s section after the jump for way more!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

Even more than Superman #75, it’s this issue (and the storyline that follows) that most define this, my most beloved era of Superman comics for me.  Perhaps it’s because I was actually opposed to Superman’s death, rather than excited about it, whereas with this issue, I was only completely excited, and totally curious about how they’d bring Superman back.

Still more nerdy background:  as we’ve mentioned in previous blogposts, I live in the same city as Super-teamster Tom Grummett, so the fact that he drew this comic was big, big deal in my hometown.  Our local comic store (which sat below Tom Grummett’s art studio upstairs) had Tom in on the day it was released to sign copies, so it was a major event.  Though I was only a lad of 13 at the time, both that day, and in the years since, I bought enough copies of Adventures of Superman #500 to insulate my house with them (and so did the rest of the world, making the resale value not quite what Superman #75 was). How big of a deal was Superman’s return in my hometown?  Well, we made the evening news…

The direct market edition cover features a stunner of a painting by the great Jerry Ordway, of a ghostly Superman reaching out to Pa Kent from beyond the void.  It was billed as being a removable translucent screen, but I don’t know anyone who was successfully able to remove the vellum without ruining their cover, but the softening of the add-on is very effective.  The newsstand edition (remember when comics could be purchased on newsstands?) has a decidedly story-driven cover, which must have perplexed the many non-regular Superman readers who came out in droves for this big issue.  It features Superman and Pa Kent floating over a background of enemies (including the demonic Blaze, which, to the uninitiated, must have been pretty spooky) with Pa Kent inexplicably in a Challengers of the Unknown looking jumpsuit.   Confusion aside, it’s still a great cover, and a nice hint at all the zip-a-tone goodness we’ll find inside.

Throughout the issue, the real world and the afterlife are given very distinct visual styles, with the ‘real’ world being inked and coloured normally, and the spirit world with lots of zip-a-tone shadows and gleaming bright colours.  It’s such an effective way to delineate the storylines, and man, I love how the extra shading looks on the afterlife pages.  It’ll be hard to single out only a few pages, because, honestly, this is one of the best drawn comics of the era.    

In the first few pages, I was struck that, despite seeing Superman in full uniform at the end of Superman #77, the Superman Jonathan Kent sees on the ‘other’ side is Clark Kent, which is a telling note about how he sees his identity.  The image of Pa stripping away his Clark garb is a great one, with the mist and swirling clouds establishing we are indeed, not in Kansas anymore.

The direct market edition also has some differences within the book, in addition to the difference in cover—it has a number of full page splashes inserted into the storyline, which are missing from the newsstand edition, and each one is a stunner.  The first one is Gangbuster descending a fire escape on page 6, having ignored the warnings he got from Inspector Henderson in the Superman specials that preceded this issue. 

The most interesting thing about these splashes, aside from how just about every one of them would have made for some killer poster art, is how seamlessly Jerry Ordway matches the scripts.  Many of the splashes contain dialogue, but if those sentences are removed (as they are in the newsstand edition) the story still makes sense, which must have been a real challenge. [Max: Oddly enough, the one flaw I’ve found in my giant Death and Return of Superman omnibus so far is that some of the dialogue from these pages is duplicated, presumably from combining pages from both editions.]

Page 9 features another great Gangbuster image, and the fight choreography in the pages that follow has a real sense of place and pace.

As we return to Pa Kent’s near death experience, the visuals go a good job of selling the story’s dreamlike conceit—“reality” is pretty flexible where he is, so as Jonathan spends time there, his thoughts get muddled in with memory, and he can lose his purpose.  It really feels like a dream in that way. Also, having heard about Jonathan’s brother previously, I thought he’d look a lot worse. There’s a strange cutaway to the Prankster in these pages, and while it’s a funny little scene, it has no bearing on the story, and Prankster doesn’t pop up again in these pages for a very long time---if memory serves, until the ill-fitting reboot of his look some 80 issues later. [Max: We saw him during the Dominus storyline, but I’m not sure if that counts.]

I also love how Grummett seems to draw Prankster as looking like UK comedian Terry Thomas, which is a great fit.  It’s always tricky to translate such goofy-looking characters into real people, and here, perhaps for the first time, Prankster looks like a human being and not a doughier Alfred E Neuman.  (Do prisoners really get their own portable TVs? Surely this scene demonstrates the danger of such a luxury!)

The scenes of Pa Kent falling into a pit and being pulled out by Blaze are chilling, but, like the rest of the issue, doesn’t it just make you fall in love with tough, no nonsense Jonathan Kent?  It’s a mini-Godwatch when he pulls a Luke Skywalker and choose oblivion over joining forces with Blaze. (Extra points for Jonathan asking the question on the minds of a lot of Superman readers—is Blaze the devil or what?)

Next up is an appearance by what would seem to be Blaze’s opposite number, Kismet, our favourite naked outer space lady in a cape.  Both sides of the two-page splash are pretty stunning here. 

The ersatz Kryptonian funeral is pretty interesting too.  Here, Grummett walks a fine line, having the Kryptonian stuff accurate enough that we know what it’s supposed to be, but just off enough that we know something strange is going on.

Once Clark figures out that the wraiths mean him harm (has there ever been a nice wraith?) it’s so, so great to see him back in action after all these months without him.  Major kudos to the colourist, here especially, but throughout the book, for the unique colours which look great here on Superman’s uniform.  Plus, I always like the times when Superman loses his cape.

The visual effect of the portal back to reality is just amazing, and from their perspective, probably pretty accurate. Next to the blinding light of the afterlife, earthly life would probably seem pretty dark. That last image from the direct edition, of Superman flying through the void with Pa Kent is just such a stunner. And from a story standpoint, this is just so definitive of the Super-team.  That a story about bringing back Superman is told in the most personal, meaningful way, with a chubby, balding old farmer as more or less the lead character.  It’s a total rejection of the grit teeth and substance-less Image comics trend of the era in its’ wholesomeness.  And I love this is how they chose to bring him back.  My very favourite detail, that I came back to again and again was that the heartbeat that returns to Pa Kent’s monitor goes across his panel, into the panel of Superman’s tomb.  So subtle, and so, so awesome.

The four page previews kicking off the Reign storyline are almost an issue unto themselves, but I love how all the eye-witness accounts from page 45 are later seen within issues, and give clues to very different Supermen.

If you’ll allow me just a little more nerdiness, DC sent comic shops some previews of this issue to create excitement, and these pages included scans of the end section with the new Supermen.  The only catch was, on these previews the figures were totally whited out, so you couldn’t see what he looked like.  So having read those short previews, I thought they were all referring to ONE new Superman, who I assumed had been changed by his experience with Doomsday.  It wasn’t until I got the issue home that I realized they were launching four different storylines.

The art on these is pretty interesting.  This is really the point where Jon Bogdanove shifts into a really loose, less constrained style, which honestly works quite well for the larger than life character of John Henry Irons. And that first look at him—you can definitely see why they thought that Shaquille O’Neal would work for this character.

Next is a spooky look at the Last Son of Krypton, who I 100% believed was the real Superman, mainly because of his appearance.  The panel of Superman lowering to finish off the thug is a great, eerie look, and I dig the Gandalf the White style dialogue here, too.

I love everything about the “Metropolis Kid” section, because it’s all built-in, and even gives us hints of this character’s “tactile telekinesis” with the grating not being damaged from his blow.  Maybe it’s just nostalgia, but man, it’s a great costume too.

Lastly, the Man of Tomorrow segment, which is such great, great storytelling, as, until the very last second, you don’t realize anything is amiss, in spite of the facial expressions of the tourists. [Max: This guy freaked me out even before I saw his full face, and I just realized why: the panel of him turning to face the family reminds me the end of this traumatizing BTAS episode.]

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

It’s interesting to me that this issue establishes that Jonathan Kent fought in the Korean conflict, and not, as was established in the World of Smallville mini-series, World War II. It’s amazing that enough time had passed by this point, that they had to move the timeline up.  I suppose if Pa Kent were still in modern stories, he’d have been a Vietnam veteran by now.  I’ll admit being surprised watching Smallville that Jonathan Kent had never been in any war—I thought for sure they’d have made him a Gulf War veteran or something.

Even completely in shock and grief and confusion, Lois Lane really rocks those stretchpants. 

GODWATCH: This is the big one, where, as hinted to in past issues, the belief system that the Kents raised Clark within is made explicit.  First on page 22, in a moment of despair, Lois admits she wishes her faith were stronger, and Martha relates that their beliefs included Heaven, and that Clark himself, to her knowledge, subscribed to those beliefs. Finally, when Pa stabilizes, Ma Kent thanks the Lord, on page 42. [Max: I also find Pa’s theory that Clark only ended up in this limbo because he’d been raised as a mortal pretty interesting.]

“Sure—have some of my hootch, why don’tcha?” A very funny exchange. [Max: I forgot to mention High Pocket’s essential contribution to this issue, when he fishes Jose out of the river, gives him booze, and tries to recruit him for some larceny! Shame on me.]

#superman #jerry ordway #tom grummett #louise simonson #jon bogdanove #roger stern #jackson guice #dan jurgens #ma kent #jose delgado #cat grant #vincent edge #the prankster #blaze #kismet #steel #superboy #newsboy legion #karl kesel #reign of the supermen #doug hazlewood #dennis janke #denis rodier #brett breeding #gangbuster #pa kent #jor-el #cleric #high pockets and lamar #inspector henderson

[swipestream]

An Excerpt from CITY OF CORPSES

Yumiko Moth has discovered her name, but she still does not know who, or what, she is. What she has learned is that her mother is dead, her master has disowned her, and her beloved has vanished. And she also knows that the Day world is a very dangerous place for a Twilight girl, especially when the dark forces of Night are hunting her.

To discover the truth she seeks, she must infiltrate the enemy’s citadel. In New York City, that is The Cobbler’s Club, home to the world-famous Peach Cobbler Girls. But how can a girl who stalks the shadows hide herself in the bright lights of the stage? CITY OF CORPSES is the fifth book of MOTH & COBWEB, the astonishing series about magical worlds of Day, Night, and Twilight by John C. Wright. 

John C. Wright is one of the living grandmasters of science fiction and the author of THE GOLDEN AGE, AWAKE IN THE NIGHT LAND, and IRON CHAMBER OF MEMORY, to name just three of his exceptional books. He has been nominated for both the Nebula and Hugo Awards, and his novel SOMEWHITHER won the 2016 Dragon Award for Best Science Fiction Novel at Dragon*Con.

*     *     *      *      *

Wilcolac spoke in a soft voice, but made each word heavy with emphasis. “We have gathered certain scattered fragments of lore from the one place whence elfin lords never sought to remove it. In the Night World, which is their own, they can find and quell all who might know or guess their secret weakness. We of the Twilight World all vow when we come of age unbreakable oaths, intertwined with runes and curses, never to rebel. But among men, aha! In the Daylit World, the King of Shadows would never suspect the humans retain in rituals and rhymes, in old toasts or old place names, the clues of hidden things the men themselves no longer know!”

Gilberec moved restlessly. Matthias yet again raised his hand, but now Wilcolac spoke. “Your friend, my dear young man of the cloth, seems to be bursting to say something you don’t want him to say. Let us hear it.”

Gilberec said, “We come in Arthur’s name. In whose name do you speak?”

Wilcolac said, “There are those among the Cobwebs who are dissatisfied with the sneers and jeers of elfin lords and the sly looks of their ladies. The elfin blood is pure, their lives are long, and their magic is by nature what we half-breeds can only learn by art or by the crafting of bad bargains with dreadful entities. Their overthrow would please us. Do you support their reign?”

Matthias said wearily, “No one is going to give you a straight answer, Gil, not anyone who knows you are a living lie detector. You are wasting time.”

Gilberec said to him, “I would rather know for sure that he will not be straight with us than to suppose he won’t, without giving him a chance.”

Wilcolac raised both eyebrows. “Giving me a chance…? Your cross-examination is allegedly for my benefit…? I am not willing to say who my principals are. They are not sure whom to trust. That is why they come through me: the Cobbler’s Club is a bit like Switzerland. I have to be careful. If I even appeared to take sides, I would be ruined.”

Gilberec said, “There could be a simpler reason why you know how to break an elfish spell than all this talk of scattered books and Eskimo wizards.”

“And what might that reason be?” asked Wilcolac, assuming an innocent stare.

“You are an Anarchist. Do you deny it?”

Wilcolac took a moment to trim his cigar with a silver knife. He lit it with a spark of flame that seemed to come from the thumb of his white kid-leather glove. “A strange accusation. Here in my club, from time to time, I deal with parties on the wrong side of the law. I hear rumors of a Supreme Council of Anarchists. The oath we all swore to the elfs for some reason does not bind them. They use their supernatural powers to ruin all the institutions the elfs have erected among men as reins and chains, as hoods and horseblinkers. The Anarchists are said to have eyes everywhere, fingers in every pie, to control railways, shipyards, banks, communication nodes, and computer networks. They are said to be behind all the dark deeds that prevent the elfs from enjoying in peace their utter victory over men. But I hear rumors saying the opposite, that the Anarchists are mere agitators or died in the Great War. Supposing they were real: why would I serve them? Anarchy is bad for business.”

“That is not a denial,” Gilberec said to Wilcolac. To Matthias he said, “Come on. Let’s go. This is pointless.”

Yumiko had been listening very intently, glad that no one was looking at her.

But just then she shivered and glanced down. The collie dog had finished his caviar snack and laid himself down at the foot of Gilberec’s chair, placing his furry head on the carpet between his paws so that his bright eyes were staring straight at her.

When Gil stood up, the dog growled and coughed and made a slight sniffing noise. Gilberec turned his head, saw her in her scanty, snug costume, but this time, instead of averting his eyes, he looked at her face. A thoughtful frown creased his brow.

Wilcolac said wryly to Matthias, “At this point in the good-cop, bad-cop routine, you, as the boy good-cop, are supposed to restrain your hotheaded friend to sit again, and this will make me eager to show my cards.”

Matthias smiled and scooped up some caviar on a cracker. “I wish we were that organized. The Swan Knight is no hothead. He is slow to anger, but once he is angry, he is slow to forgive. He feels about truth the way I feel about forgiveness. Guilt and fear and hate tie men to their sins with heavy chains and long so that when they die, their tormented spirits remain on earth, haunting the scenes of their crimes. Without forgiveness, how can they be set free to go onward to their reward? So I have no qualms about entering the house of a Necromancer. You have more need of my services than any!”

Wilcolac said sharply, “What does that mean?”

“I saw a Jack-o’-Lantern in an upper window when I entered this house and smelled the spoor of many hounds. You flay the flesh of men for the benefit of wolves and expose the flesh of women for the benefit of men. Do you think I do not know who you are? What you do here?”

Wilcolac squinted at the young novice, and a look of true hatred appeared, if only for a moment, in his eye. “I think an innocent soul like yours cannot imagine the vices I sell, not even in your most sordid nightmares, little boy.”

Matthias smiled, but his eyes were sad. “You forget. Saint Jean Baptiste is only two streets away. Your patrons come to our confessional booth. My master has heard confessed every detail of all the sins you encourage. But they have been washed away, removed entirely from the dreadful scroll no man can read. I am familiar with your works and your ways, and familiar with how to undo them. You are bold indeed to invite me into your house. Unlike my knightly friend, my weapons are spiritual and cannot be bound in their scabbards. No do my weapons know any truce, nor rest.”

Wilcolac’s fingers tightened on his walking stick, but he said nothing.

An Excerpt from CITY OF CORPSES published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi

[krissysbookshelf]

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  Victim Zero: The Fall (Book 1) by Joshua Guess: Kell McDonald meant to save the world. Instead he killed it. Wracked with guilt over his work being used to create the plague of undead, survival is no longer enough. Redemption is his only goal.

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    The Great Book of Ice Hockey by Ryan Black & Bill O’Neill: The Great Book of Ice Hockey is a must for anyone who loves Hockey and Trivia. This book is full of interesting sports stories from some of the best hockey players, coaches and teams, ever. Go get your FREE copy of The Great Book of Ice Hockey today and dig in to all the nerdy things there are about Hockey.

This book is Free on February 19, 2017

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  Crystals by Faye Froome: A beginner’s guide to the powerful healing properties of crystals. Discover what healing crystals are and how to use energies to improve your health and well-being!

This book is Free on February 19, 2017

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  Stronger Than The Storm by Michele Laine: What happens when you lose everything? Can you rebuild and come back stronger? Stronger Than the Storm not only shares the author’s story of how she prevailed through her most tumultuous time of life but also how she came out stronger and more determined to create a new life, full of passions.

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    Serenity: Afterlife (Book 2) by Willow Rose: Death is only the beginning! From an internationally bestselling author comes this wonderful tale in the addictive Afterlife series — you’ll love reading about teenager Meghan and her adventurous life after death.

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  Continue Online: Memories (Part 1) by Stephan Morse: A man suffering from depression over a catastrophic loss receives a copy of Continue Online, a virtual reality multiplayer game. Not just any copy, but an Ultimate Edition, which introduces him to the AIs who rule over Continue. They offer him a chance to play one of their own – a non-player character (NPC) guide for new players. But there’s more to this NPC and the world than the AIs let on…

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  Kayos: The Bad & The Worse by Tracy A. Ball: Kayos: The Bad & The Worse brings to its readers a glimpse into the grim future of the United States. One that shows the aftermath of a country that became lazy, intolerant, and ignorant, leading to war and division. No one can be trusted—especially the government.

This book is Free on February 19, 2017

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  Terminus: Fringe Worlds (Book 1) by Kevin Hardman: Being the sole survivor of humanity’s first bloody encounter with the alien, Vacra, had cost Gant Maker his military career. However, upon the Vacra’s return, Maker is reinstated and ordered to hunt this enemy down on a distant world.

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  Blinded By Love by Leah Wyett: In 1870, Hazel Lynn Morgan lives in a small town on a farm in Ohio, where nothing new or exciting ever happens. Will a simple mail order bride ad placed by a cattle rancher in Texas named Heath Key change Hazel’s life for the better? Or will the secret that Heath is hiding threaten to ruin both of their lives?

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  Clarity by Loretta Lost: Helen Winters is a young writer who is completely blind. After a traumatic experience, she runs away to live alone. When a brilliant doctor shows up, offering her a treatment that could change her life, she must decide whether to take the chance on life and love again…

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  IGNITE by Glenna Sinclair: Enjoy 5 ROMANCE books. No cliffhangers. COLT: Lena’s brother has gone missing, and due to his past drug addictions the cops aren’t too willing to help find him. Lena’s only hope rests with the Black Dragons—her brother’s motorcycle gang. Can she convince their leader Colt to help her solve the mystery, or will she be left in the dust?

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  The Long Ride by Jane Keeler: Gabe is a spoiled, wealthy young stud. A fight with his domineering father leads to an unexpected bus ride up the East Coast to New York. Also on the bus is Karlee, a feisty, stunning journalist, praying that she will still have a job when she returns to the city. A mugging throws them together and lights the spark that leads to some very “adult” consequences.

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  Unlikely Venture by Kristen Luciani: Jilted by her ex-fiancé and terrified by a devastating diagnosis, Jessica Latham falls into the arms…and bed…of a random, mysterious stranger. No strings, no last names, just one hot night before moving across the country to start her new beginning. Enter James Callahan, the gorgeous, genius Jedi master who knows exactly how to use his lightsaber.

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  Bewitching Winter by Serenity Woods: Four friends. Four seasons. Four ways to fall in love. A sizzling chemistry still exists between Neve and Rhett, but even though he wants her back, Neve wants nothing to do with him. Rhett’s not used to losing. Not everyone gets a second chance at both life and love, and this time he’s determined to win her heart…

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  Beyond Tonight by CJ Thomas: The first volume of Beyond Tonight: Hollywood Dreams, an Alpha Billionaire Romance series by CJ Thomas. I packed up and moved to L.A. The place where dreams were made. Maybe I’d catch my break there. The problem was, I had no money, my car broke down on the way, and I was living in less than ideal conditions. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. That’s when I met him.

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  Rumspringa Romance by Deidra Scott: Leah is an Amish young woman who has a crush on the handsome Enos, but he doesn’t pay any attention to her. Meanwhile, she is being courted by sweet but overweight Luke and she treats him the same way Enos treats her — like an afterthought. Then Luke does something that touches her heart, and she may not want Enos’ affection after all.

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  Once Upon a Cowboy by Lacy Williams: A modern-day fairytale with a cowboy twist. Princess Alessandra is targeted by assassins. To save her life, she runs to the one place no one would ever think to find her: a Texas ranch. Former Navy SEAL Gideon would give his life to protect the princess–but can he keep from falling for her?

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  Mistletoe, Moonlight, and Murder by Carolyn L. Dean: ONE … terrible mudslide. TWO… feet sticking out of it. THREE… carats of perfect diamonds. Amanda hadn’t expected snow for Christmas on the Oregon Coast, but her first winter in Ravenwood Cove brings out long-dead secrets that someone is desperately trying to hide…no matter the cost. Hot chocolate, merry decorations, and purring cats give way to police investigations and a search for a ruthless killer.

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  Davenport House by Marie Silk: A nation on the brink of the Great War. A wealthy family with secrets. A household staff with secrets of their own. Find out what is happening upstairs and downstairs at Davenport House.

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  Dividers by Travis Adams Irish: A little girl is missing. Jacob doesn’t remember taking her, but he remembers seeing her face. Father and son billionaires are at war and a young singer comes between them. How many people will be destroyed in their personal battle? Will the young girl survive?

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  Taken! – Love Conquers All by Remington Kane: From Remington Kane, the author of The TANNER Novels, TAKEN! – Love Conquers All. Mr. White has the heart of a serial killer, yet, he fights the urges that drive him. Along with his wife, a psychiatrist, he tracks down other predators. Will Mr. White someday give in to his desires, or will love conquer all, and his demons be kept at bay?

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  The Bandaged Riders by Gordon Landsborough: In the shambles of the stricken, defeated South, lawless men saw an opportunity to seize power they did not deserve. These men fought on no side in the Civil War, but had instead battened on the defenseless old people left at home. One such unscrupulous man, Reuben Slatt, along with his ragged scalawag followers, had a better idea.

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  Sarah by Teri Polen: Seventeen-year-old horror fan Cain Shannon thought helping a ghost find her killers would be the supernatural adventure of a lifetime. Now, he just hopes to survive long enough to protect his family and friends from her.

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