#cleo (science i believe)

[apollos-boyfriend]

you could reasonably teach like almost an entire curriculum solely employed by minecraft youtubers that used to be teachers and i think that's beautiful

#icarus speaks #you have rt (english) #cleo (science i believe) #jimmy (gym class) #and fit (history/science) #so like. kind of all you need is a math teacher for the basic curriculum

[amethystfairy1]

hello internet stranger,

i am in love. you've infected both me and my sister with your brainrot and captivating fics, we've talked about it non-stop the past few days, so naturally we have some questions.

But first, i want to ask what your boundaries are w/ fanart and writing. i've already drawn a couple pieces, are you alright with me posting them, and what should i tag them with? Also, i'm feeling very inspired to write more zed and tango for the travelling thieves au, is that alright if i take your ideas and just yoink them? Im not planning to post whatever i write at this point :P

anyways, moving on, i have a few world-building questions for you, starting w/ traveling thieves:

how does the mercenary guild and hits system work? Can anyone put a hit out on anyone, or do they have to be a wanted criminal? also, how does gem choose her targets? i like to believe she has some sort of moral compass in picking, but knowing the world they live in, i can't be certain

this is less of a question, but i don't see how the world can be resolved. For ttsbc, the obvious solution to the undercity folk living freely is that they overthrow the overcity government or just remove the laws keeping them banned. Sure, it'd be difficult, but from what we've seen, most people don't actually have strong prejudices against the undercity, they just vaguely believe they're evil, which can be very easily disproved. For traveling thieves, it's completely different, because not only is the discrimination in the government, it's in the people themselves; merely changing the laws would not change how people see hybrids, so how can that be fixed? My best solution to them all getting a happy ending is that they run away and found their own civilization where all hybrids can be free, but it doesnt seem like a likely scenario

again, not really a question, but I'm so so so happy in the latest fh piece that they looted the bodies of their attackers. the first time i read it through, i was practically screaming at the screen, telling them to grab the loot and weapons before they continued

next, ttsbc:

4. how do the mobs work? do they act like any normal animal, in that they just kinda exist and happen to be very hostile, or do they follow minecraft mob mechanics and spawn into existence from nothing when the conditions are right? could they theoretically all be exterminated? do all of them dislike light, like the zombies in the cleo bdubs fic? if they do, why are they making their way to the overcity?

5. how did the undercity become a thing? Was it just always there, or was it manmade? did hybrids and mutants always live underground? are the pits really bottomless? and if so, is the world a globe, or is it flat? i understand you might not have thought very deeply about these things before jumping in, but my sister and i were theorizing about different answers. i figured the undercity isnt manmade just like the grand canyon isnt manmade, it just came about through natural processes, and mutants and hybrids just evolved(?) seperately from humans, underground, which is a whole other can of worms with the science behind that. an idea about the "bottomless" pits has to do with physics. at the center of the earth (if it were hollow), you wouldn't feel gravity because it would pull on you equally in all directions. so maybe the bottomless pit really just leads to the center of the earth, and you're not really falling forever, you're just suspended in the center forever lol. not falling, but not hitting the bottom, either

anyways, this was a really long ask (i hope thats ok), and i still have more to say, but i'll leave it there for now. again, i love the angst, and have a wonderful day. im gonna try to get some work done, but it probs wont happen with all the brainrot XD

Hello hello! ✨

I'm so honored that you and your sister are enjoying my AUs and fics so much! That you've been talking about them and theorizing over them is so awesome to hear! Knowing that they've become something fueling discussion is super cool!

I LOVE IT ALL! Fanart/fanworks/fanfic I wanna see all of it! I would absolutely love it if you would post your fanart! Please use either the (#traveling thieves au) or (#through the sky blue cracks) depending on which AU it is for and mention me in the post (@amethystfairy1) so I can see it! And of course you are welcome to write fics based in my AU or using my characterizations, in fact I'd love it if you did! It's the best thing to hear that my writing has inspired someone else to get creative! I know you said you had no intentions of posting it, but if you ever do, please use the same hashtags here if on tumblr, or if you use A03 list the appropriate fic/series as inspiration and please credit me in the notes if you don't mind! I'm looking forward to seeing anything either fanart/fanfic related that you've created!

ONTO THE QUESTIONS 🏃‍♀️

The mercenary guild is basically like the underground/illegal version of the adventurer guild, and they'll take any jobs that the adventurer guild won't. Blackmail, assassination, smuggling, you name it. Gem has something of a moral compass, but it isn't exactly the strictest thing in the world. We learn when she meets Mumbo in Grian's wing preening fic that she is on her way to assassinate a noblemans son, and while that is a bit of a wink wink nudge nudge if you can figure out who that son is, exactly, it's still Gem agreeing to kill a teenager who is guilty of little more than pissing off the wrong person. Cruel world and all.

Perhaps that's exactly point? 😌 With Traveling Thieves, I did not set out to make a world that could be resolved or escaped from...the whole point is that it is cruel and inescapable, and the best you can do is continue to protect yourself and those you care about...and even then, you might fail to do that. You might be set up to fail in a sick system that would never give you a chance in the first place. And the best you can do is try to put the pieces back together in the aftermath. I don't want Traveling Thieves to resolve in any traditional sense of the word...for where that'll lead all our various characters, well, you'll have to wait and see. 🤔

Loot that body LOOT THAT BODY NOW 💃

They're like your typical minecraft mobs, they spawn in places with low light levels! We've also got some homebrew monsters that I've come up with, such as the bird-men, that we will be meeting as time goes on. Certain monsters such as zombies do avoid light, but there are plenty of monsters will go above bedrock just like certain monsters in minecraft can survive in the sun, like creepers and endermen. No, they can never be exterminated because of how they spawn!

The pits aren't bottomless, we've seen the bottom after all, where Pearl, Jimmy, and Grian were in the Depths! It is a natural chasm beneath the bedrock, and the various caves and tunnels stretch are incredibly huge and diverse, so while everything connects back to the main cavern of the under-city that's so huge, there are also other caves and tunnels where other groups live that we will be learning about eventually, such as the blaze-born pyres or where Cub is from in the Deep Dark!

It is completely totally 100% ok! I love getting long asks like this that give me the chance to develop and worldbuild the AUs and mention some details that might never really show up within the fics themselves! So by all means send more questions and thoughts! And I'd also love to see the fanarts you mentioned if you still are up to posting them, I can't draw so anything anyone draws that has anything to do with my AUs makes me incredibly happy! 😆

Thanks so much for coming by! 💖

#traveling thieves au #through the sky blue cracks #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #worldbuilding #life series #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #empires smp #pearlescentmoon #grian #jimmy solidarity #cubfan135 #flower husbands #scott smajor

[oh-snapperss]

Promise I Held (Just Out of Reach)

hi guys. this is a cowrite by me and @tunastime, a continuation of our hot tea fics we wrote a few months ago. you don't have to have read them to read this, but it adds to the experience!

words: 3788

warnings: none

read on ao3!

On the top of a large, grey-white slab of rock, a figure looks to the sky.

Bdubs is sitting on the warm rock face and wondering when the sun might set. He sighs. The air in his chest feels short. He chews at the inside of his cheek and wonders when the sun will set, not because he needs it but because he wants it. It’s the only solace he gets here, and it’s the only solace the games give him in general, even when he doesn’t sleep, and even when he’s not allowed to. He’s not allowed to sleep here. The nights are too short to warrant it, and there’s too much killing going around, coupled with the fact that his clock isn’t visible to him. To see his time he has to stand by the river edge and crane his neck to even glance at the ticking seconds, and keep doing the mental math. He’s close to yellow. He can feel that at least. Maybe he’ll get lucky. Maybe there’ll be another chance to get a boogey kill. Some extension on his life. Something he’ll have to get for himself this time, it seems. He’s trying to be patient, something he’s gotten too good at doing, even with the short string it hangs from.

He’s waiting for Etho to come back.

It seems like a hopeless cause, but something deeply entrenched and rooting around in his chest believes otherwise. Etho comes back, doesn’t he? Not necessarily crawling, but something of the sort, standing off to the side, waiting to be welcomed back with a kicked-dog expression. So Bdubs is waiting for him. 

“When will it be enough for you?”

Cleo’s voice is a cut through his train of thoughts like a cleaver. He turns, bracing his hand on the rock to support himself. She’s standing behind him, hands on her hips. At least he has Cleo, he thinks, as a warm tumbling thing rolls around in the empty space of his chest. He turns back around, expression souring.

“Never.”

The it is self-explanatory. It is whatever Etho gives him in lieu of an actual partnership, or an actual apology. They’d exchanged those, once before, after everything. So is he really to blame for thinking this might go a bit differently? That Etho might be beside him, instead of over the crest of the hill, playing house with the remnants of a team he used to be a part of? They’ve gone and replaced him with his better half. Dead weight. The it is the strings of affections Etho tries to tie together. It’s I love you never said but implied. It’s how they’ve always functioned, except in places they know are truly safe. Bdubs doesn’t mind that. But how is he supposed to not yearn for it, even here?

“He’s not coming back, y’know,” Cleo adds. She’s not moved any closer. Bdubs shrugs. He’s too busy watching the sky start to go orange at the edges

“Doesn’t matter,” he says shortly. Cleo huffs. She doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Bdubs, even when her footsteps have long since faded back to their cave.

Bdubs is waiting.

It’s an action he’s gotten very good at.

The good thing, though, is that night comes quicker than usual. It’s something about rotation, or sun’s rays, some science-y thing Bdubs would need to work out much longer than a few minutes to completely understand. He watches the sun brush the horizon for only a moment before he turns away, and the stretch of orange above it. 

Etho never came back. His boots crunch against bits of pebbled stone and granite. So it’s his job to find him. He’s good at that, too. Just keep walking. Walking. Walking. Soon enough he’ll find something, right? Anything?

He pokes his way down, minding the way the stone turns to dirt and dirt to grass. Just beyond the next hill he can see a tall stone structure. He’s not sure what about this place feels so much more alive than previous games. There’s a nervous energy to the air, like a static charge. He makes his way over the hill.

He can see someone at the top of the tower as he manages down the other side of the hill. He hears grumbling, some unmistakable noise only Tango could make. Wading the short way over to the sandy bank, Bdubs stands, looking up on a particularly nicely textured tower, all things considered. He’s tempted to reach out and touch it, but Tango hears his approach. He leans over the edge of the tower, peering over at him.

“Tango!” Bdubs squints at him, smiling. 

“Bdubs?” Tango leans a bit further. “What’d’you want?”

“I, uh…” He stops short. For all his big game, wandering around like he’s made up his mind, Bdubs still isn’t sure exactly what this is going to give him. Closure? Hope? Anything? He’s been standing here silent. Better say something. “I’m looking for Etho.”

“Mm.” Tango jerks his head to the left. He keeps his tone neutral, though, and besides, in the cover of nearly night, Bdubs can’t really tell what he’s thinking anyway. “He’s over at the farm. The uh—the box, there. Why? What’d’you need ‘em for?”

“Just to chat.”

“To chat?”

Bdubs nods.

“Yeah. I mean it.”

Tango shrugs. He seems to believe it. Bdubs isn’t lying anyway. It’s not like he could actually do something right now.

“Alright. Enjoy your talk, man. Lemme know if you need somethin’.”

Bdubs thinks he sees the swish of a tail before Tango ducks away, back to moving stone bricks around. Bdubs nods. Right. Left. To the farm. The “box” as Tango had put it. He can see the outline in the torchlight.

Making his way over, Bdubs steels his expression, trying to sooth frazzled nerves. He makes his way through the beach and around the side of the hill, toward the mass of dirt and granite that resembled its namesake.

Down the stone steps, walled in by the border and the box itself. Bdubs can hear the mobs within fighting, falling, dying. It’s a familiar sound, the clattering of bones and groans of undead… hissing of creepers and the crawling spiders. Not to say a pleasant sound, but… it’s something reminiscent of better times, at least, when time and death meant nothing. 

He’s shaken from his thoughts at the bottom of the steps, where the entrance to the farm lies. There’s a hole, and a rickety ladder into darkness. He shakes his head, but doesn’t hesitate to descend, rung by rung until his ankles land in water. Eurgh. It splashes up to his knees when he turns to get out of it, and he shivers—not cause he’s cold, but… he’s a little cold. 

Even with his soaked boots, and aching arms from the climb down, he falters before fully stepping away from the water and towards his… friend, partner, lover… Etho. Who hasn’t bothered to acknowledge him, save for the hand straying toward the diamond sword at his side and stiffened back. His other hand keeps busy, gathering gunpowder from the chest and placing it straight onto the crafting table.

“Etho?”

This time, his only sign Etho knows he’s there is that both hands go to craft TNT, and his posture gets about as bad as Bdubs knows it usually is. Other than that, Bdubs is ignored, and he frowns, a prickle of hurt creeping through. Dead weight. Did Etho think the same? 

“E-Etho?” Bdubs’ voice falters, and he winces at the crack in his usual facade of boisterous bravado. 

For the first time since the timer started, at least that Bdubs has seen, Etho pauses. Just a heartbeat, just long enough to acknowledge Bdubs’ presence. But the moment passes, and Etho resumes his work, not even bothering to turn to Bdubs as he gathers gunpowder and crafts more of the TNT. 

Gather, craft. Gather, craft. A terrifying rhythm of coming destruction, and Etho won’t look at Bdubs. His hands are too busy, and Bdubs’ own flutter about uselessly before he settles on leaning against the wall and watching. Even then, he picks at the sleeve of his shirt, biting his lip before trying again.

“You’re… you busy right now?” He keeps his voice quiet, as if any volume might shatter the peace and walls both have built up. There’s water dripping from the rocks above his head and he holds back from wrinkling his nose when a drop lands on it. 

“Got things to do,” Etho mutters, turning back to the collection chest. A wrinkle appears between his eyebrows—empty. 

“Of course, of course…” Bdubs tracks Etho’s calloused hands as they pack away the last of the tnt. There’s a spark in Etho’s eyes as he does that Bdubs doesn’t particularly like—it feels wrong, and far too similar to the same spark a flint and steel might make. “Do you have a minute?” (Or a few?) 

“Do any of us?” Etho’s tone is light, but to Bdubs, there’s almost a beat to each word, a tick-tick-tick of seconds passing, of life draining. Etho steps forward, and so does Bdubs, but then Etho steps right past him to the water and ladder, not even sparing a second to look into Bdubs’ eyes.

And so Bdubs follows helplessly, just like he always does, once again grimacing at the water pooled around his ankles before he starts up the ladder after Etho. “W-Etho, c’mon…” 

Up and up and up into the starry night above, up the stairs, past the base and into the woods. Step, step, step, step. Tick, tick, tick, tick. 

“Watcha doin’, Etho?” 

“Resource gathering.” 

“It’s the middle of the night… shouldn’t you be sleepin’?” Bdubs raises his eyebrows, trying to keep up with Etho’s quick march. He’s really too short for this–not that he’ll ever admit that out loud. 

“Shouldn’t you be, sleep king B-double-o?” Etho side-eyes him, raking his gaze down to where Bdubs stumbles over his own feet. 

“Oh, come on…” Bdubs grumbles, but Etho’s right. “...wanted to see you?” 

“Wanted to see me?” Etho sounds teasing and entirely uncaring. “Shouldn’t you be with Cleo ‘n Scar?” They’ve reached a point, lit up with few torches. There’s a rudimentary tree farm ahead, ready to be harvested, but surely Etho isn’t just using his precious tnt, is he?

“Oh, tell me you aren’t just blowin’ it u-”

Bang! It’s lit and fired off before Bdubs can finish his sentence. While Etho heads forward, dragging his axe from his back to harvest and collect, Bdubs backs up a couple steps. 

“Etho, please look at me-” 

“I can hear you just fine. I gotta collect this stuff, ‘dubs.” 

And that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s frustrating, and so very Etho, and none of it makes sense, because Bdubs just wants to talk to Etho and he wants Etho to look at him even if it’s just for two seconds, would he please just acknowledge, or sit down, or-

Two short breaths, then one deep, and Bdubs thinks maybe he can fix this. Maybe-

He leaves Etho to his farm, staying within sight to gather sticks and wood. When he drops to the ground to place it all, to make a fire, twigs push into his knees uncomfortably, the ground itself damp and cold. It’s awful, and it’s worth it to light the campfire, to place that rickety old tin kettle he’d brought with him. The kettle trembles in his grasp, a memory of a time with it hadn’t been his, it had been theirs. He waits to use it though, wanting to bring Etho over first. 

But then Etho walks out, glances over, and just shakes his head, like it means nothing, like it never did. He scrambles to his feet, the kettle left empty on the ground. He makes it over to Etho before he can walk away fully, out towards the river nearby. Once again staring at the ground over Bdubs, Etho tries to slide past, but Bdubs just can’t help it, heart aching in all the worst places. 

“Please-” Bdubs’ hands fly out, then halt just before touching Etho. His plea is quiet too, but Etho hesitates to move away and Bdubs reaches fully forward to take both of Etho’s hands in his. He runs his calloused fingertips over the backs of Etho's hands, gently turning them palm up with his thumbs. Scars cover Etho’s hands in angry red ridges, and Bdubs traces over them without a word, keeping his eyes on them instead of Etho’s face. He doesn’t think he could possibly look at Etho right now, not when Etho could shove him away, call him dead weight or laugh it off or-

But he doesn’t, and Bdubs barely catches the soft, too-fast intake of breath from Etho. Another moment of memorizing the palms he already knows by heart, and he closes his hands fully, squeezing them tightly. 

“Just-come sit down. Please?” He won’t take no for an answer, tugging Etho forward with both hands until they’re next to a couple rocks near the farm. “Here.” 

Etho’s eyes squeeze shut, stressed in the way Bdubs sees when he’s worked too long on a project without sleeping, or the times in the snow fort he’d thought Bdubs hadn’t seen in the nights spent across the fence. “I shouldn’t.” 

“Just a few minutes.” (Just tonight. Just for tonight.) 

He doesn’t miss the way Etho tenses, or the shuddering breaths he takes. 

“Okay,” he sounds tired, already shifting his weight from leg to leg. 

Bdubs doesn’t let go of his hand, though, as he pulls Etho with him to the unlit fire. It’s funny, in some type of way, that he came prepared thinking that Etho would say yes, when every other part of him knew Etho would say no. He drops to the ground, Etho still standing at his side, to light the fire. It takes a second to catch, but when it does, Etho is dropping next to him. He holds his hands out in front of him, palms turned toward the heat. Bdubs takes his time setting up. It’s a process he’s seen Etho follow too many times to count on his hands. If he’s being honest, he’d originally brought the set for himself, knowing a day without it would leave him grumpy and nonfunctional. Being able to share it with Etho now was a luxury he’d surely taken for granted back home. Now it, for this small moment, was all they had. 

He fills the kettle halfway with water from his canteen, tosses in the tea leaves, and sets it in the coals. Chamomile. His preferred stuff. He watches the kettle for a second, listening to it start to rumble. Then he glances at Etho. Etho glances up, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His eyes flick across the dark sky they both know will soon be gone, replaced with the sun and a bright, scary blue. Bdubs sighs.

“Mind if I join you?” Etho extends one of the mugs towards Bdubs, and Bdubs takes it gratefully, hands curling around the heat of the mug. Then Etho sinks to the ground on the other side of the campfire, legs crossed. He places his mask on the log next to him.

I love you, I made you tea.

Etho hasn’t taken off his mask, yet, but he’s just at the side of the campfire. His familiar, left-hand spot to Bdubs.

Bdubs fishes two cups out of his bag—the last bit of the set. As much as he would rather wooden ones, the metal ones will have to do. He lifts the kettle as it starts to boil, and pours out a cup of tea. It smells strong enough as Bdubs lifts it. Then, he holds it out for Etho to take. Etho finally looks over, and his eyebrows furrow.

He’s still wearing his mask.

Bdubs swears he doesn’t flinch.

There, he takes another small wooden cup from the satchel and turns back to the pot. The metal tin is lukewarm at best, and only a few long wisps of steam rise from the cup’s surface, but Etho cradles it in both hands. With a deliberate slowness, he turns to Bdubs, and extends his hands.

Etho takes the cup, and Bdubs feels their hands knock together awkwardly as he tries to grab it from him. He manages the last bit of a wheezing sounding laugh, and pretends not to notice Etho’s eyes squinting shut for a moment.

Etho sits with his tea for a moment, holding it in the cradle of his hands. Bdubs knows the motion—he saw it a long time ago, before Etho got comfortable with him. He lowers his eyes to the second cup, and Etho seems to relax after a second. He hears him sigh tiredly. Bdubs stares into his newly poured cup of tea and chews his bottom lip.

“Etho...” Bdubs says, still looking up into the sky. Etho turns his head to him, and in the light of the fire, he can just see the profile of his face, tipped back. Etho’s eyebrows raise questioningly.

“Yes?”

“I want to offer you a proposition.”

“Etho?” He asks. Etho hums. “I want to offer you a proposition.”

Etho laughs. The sound is warmer than he’s expecting.

“I can’t run away with you, B,” he says, and his tone stays light. Bdubs feels his stomach turn over—both in a good and bad way.

“Hey!” He swings out, trying to catch his arm and failing. “I never said…”

But that is what he was going to ask. Etho’s stolen the words right out of his mouth. He takes a sip of tea. The chamomile is bitter without honey.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” Etho starts, and it sounds an awful lot like a rejection. Bdubs shakes his head. When he looks over at Etho, his leg bounces nervously. He’s not looking directly at Bdubs, but over his shoulder instead, eyes occasionally flicking over to his face. His mask is forgotten, hooked around his ear, and his mouth is a fine line. 

“You just can’t,” Bdubs finishes. “Look, I get it…I do, I promise.”

Etho sighs. It’s a weary sound Bdubs doesn’t hear often.

“I don’t think it’s good for us,” he manages, turning the cup in his hands. Luckily for Etho, Bdubs is watching his hands move, rather than studying the pinched expression on his face. 

“No, Etho, it’s fine,” Bdubs says, despite the way his chest hurts when he says it. “You don’t have to make excuses.”

Silence stretches between them. Bdubs watches Etho turn the cup, like he’s studying the contents, and Bdubs feels his chest start to stuff up with cotton. It’s a lingering silence, like a sticky heat, something tangible, like a thread. He wishes he could reach out and cut it with a knife, but Etho coughs, and the stillness goes back to being the sound of crickets and water lapping at the shore a few paces away. There’s a shock of cold to the air. The fire fights to warm them both.

“Bdubs,” Etho starts. The words are slow and deliberate. “You don’t take this seriously. You're just treating this like it's a game." 

Bdubs makes a noncommittal noise. "Well that's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?” He shrugs. “In the title and everything…"

Etho shakes his head. There’s that silence again. At least it’s shorter this time.

“I can’t come with you.” Etho doesn’t look at him. Bdubs shrugs again.

“‘S fine…at least finish your tea, will you?” The words are half-caught in his throat like he’s coughing them out. The dregs of his tea have gone cold in his cup, but he knocks back the contents and grimaces as he swallows. It’s better than nothing. Etho nods. He drinks slowly, even as Bdubs knows his tea has cooled, and even as the thread taut between them pulls at them both. Just one night, right?

“Just one night,” Etho says. Bdubs shuts his eyes.

“Right.”

Etho leans forward, still holding his cup. Then, he stands, brushing his free hand on his pants, rehooking his mask over the other ear. The expression Bdubs manages to catch is pained, tight, uncomfortable. Etho curls and uncurls his hands. 

“Thanks for the tea, ‘Dubs.” Etho sounds unsure, like he might be looking for something else.

“Sure thing.”

Etho’s back is turned to him, now, where he stands at the very edge of the flickering light the campfire gives. And he’s about to leave, and they’ll meet again, sure, and pretend, and play two different games, and then they’ll go home and pretend to play the same one. He blinks back tears, because he knows, he knows Etho’ll come back to him, eventually. It’s just a game. Staggering to his feet, he stumbles towards Etho out of time–tick, step, ti-step, tick, tick, step. Even with his fumbling, loud movement, Etho doesn’t flinch, staring down into his cup just emptied, rather than the woods promising resources, or the stars that no longer promise safety. 

He shuffles forward, to rest his forehead against Etho’s back. It fits just between his shoulder blades, pressing against the thin padding of Etho’s jacket. 

For a second, Bdubs rests, and it's as if nothing's changed at all. For a moment, he holds his breath, and feels as if time stops ticking. It's over, though, as soon as it starts. Just one day.

He reaches up, hardly daring to breathe, until his fingers just barely brush against the arm of Etho’s jacket, tracing along his elbow. Part of him wants to wrap his hand fully around, wants to tug Etho around to face him, to beg him to stay with him, even if it means sacrificing their time. He knows better. He knows Etho loves him, and he knows it’s not enough, not in the game. So instead he stays perfectly still, save for his shuddering, unsteady breaths. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he means it. 

Etho’s own breaths are out of time, too. Just for a few seconds, but it’s enough. “I’ll see you after, ‘dubs.” 

Bdubs doesn’t watch Etho walk forward. But he certainly feels the pull and the cool air on his face instead of fabric. Behind him, the fire splutters back into nothing, and the creeping chill against his back sets him shivering. He drags his hands up and down his arms quickly, trying to warm himself, and rather than linger and stare at his failed proposition, he steps forward in the direction of his bed. Step, tick, step, tick, step, tick. 

#limited life #limited life smp #ethubs #etho #ethoslab #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #trafficshipping #my fics #hi guys. long time no see! #shoutout to tuna for being the best cowriter ever i love them sm #honored to have written this with you ueueueueueeueu

[mickemz01]

[MAJOR spoilers for SlashMagpie’s LifeLine AU]

LLAU is so wild to me because like

“People don’t just come around here for a vacation. How’d you get here?”

“Well I was out in deep space for my job when my ship went down and I was attacked by body-snatching aliens. But I lived with help from a guy. Then I was rescued. Then the ship was attacked by body-snatching aliens. Then I blew myself and the aliens up and into a black hole to save the world from the same fate.”

“Well that’s a blatant lie because none of that exists so here’s a slightly more believable story: My parents were killed by demons so I ran and accidentally opened up a portal to another dimension using blood magic and shoved my brother through and then forgot to jump through! Then I spent the next years of my life at an orphanage. Then I spent the next years of my life trying to escape the orphanage. Then I spent then next month of my life avenging my parents with the help of a friend and burnt down my hometown using a magical eternal flame that I got for my shoes and then jumped through a portal and ended up here.”

“Uhhhhhhhh???? But demons and magic don’t EXIST?!”

“UHHHHH WELL ALIENS and SPACE and BLACK HOLES DON’T EXIST?!”

“You’re crazy”

“You’re crazier!!!!”

“oh hey BY THE WAY you said you don't believe in magic. What the fuck was that?!”

“Uhhhhh?! Radiation poisoning?! Obviously?!”

“No fuck you that’s magic?!”

“Fuck you back the captain of a ship told me it’s negative radiation?!”

“?!?!?”

meanwhile, Etho, a man of science, to the extent that he spent years of his life trying to figure out why his blood could heal something in an instant, just gets told by LITERAL GOD that what he spent so long trying not to call “magic” has just been space rocks in his blood the entire time

And also Tango REALLY dislikes Impulse

And also Tango wants Impulse to suffer

And also Tango wants Impulse to pay

And also Tango wants Impulse to go through the same pain he did

Meanwhile Captain BdoubleO crashed the ship on purpose

And also Tango REALLY wants to kill Bdubs but he's told he can’t because he’s told that if he kills Bdubs, then he kills the universe, and wasn’t that what Tango spent so long trying to save?

 And also Cleo just split the ground in half and made a deal threatened God until she got what she wanted and HOLY FUCK GUNSHOTS IN WALMART?!? WHO’S CRAZY ENOUGH TO DO oh. hi, captain of the Hermethius. Been a wild month, yeah? Month. A month. Yeah, a month. No, a month. Hold up wait you said SEVEN HUNDRED YEARS?! That… explains a lot. 

Also just

“Hey guys do we have a doctor?”

“Etho’s a doctor.”

“Etho hasn’t been a doctor in seven hundred years.”

“I actually haven’t been a doctor in fourteen billion years”

“Etho was actually a doctor two weeks ago so.”

“Yeah that logic checks out. Etho’s a doctor!”

“Etho is NOT a doctor his medical license was suspended YEARS ago due to medical malpractice.”

“Oh my god. That makes so much sense.”

“Hey why do we have guns in Walmart? Is there someone we plan on pointing it at?”

“Yeah the fucking Walmart.”

“Yeah the fucking— WHAT?!”

“Yeah Ren the fucking dog in the fucking Walmart.”

“Ren the OH MY GOD REN?! WHY IS REN HERE?”

“Idk man but this was all obviously a setup”

“Not at all.”

“yeah bro I just saved him from spacing out and talking to ghosts”

“It was very traumatic”

“Guys this is the cheese aisle in a WALMART need I remind you.”

#llau #lifelineau #the entire series feels like a feverdream in the best way possible

[djeterg19]

15 people, 15 questions

Thanks for the tag, @callipigio

1. are you named after anyone?

Uh not sure how many people are gonna know her now but lets just say my dad was a big Carly Simon fan

2. when was the last time you cried?

All the time. I cry at everything anymore which I used to make fun of my mom for but I cried at part one of Cooking Crush this morning.

3. do you have kids?

God no

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

None now but I played soccer(aka real football) and volleyball in school

5. do you use sarcasm?

It's my main form of communication

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

As little as possible? I'm too worried about how I'm being perceived

7. what’s your eye color?

Green!

8. scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings... there's a reason I read mostly romance novels and watch bl

9. any talents?

Uh I'm going with knitting here

10. where were you born?

The desert of southern Arizona

11. what are your hobbies

Knitting, collecting yarn, reading, obsessing over my shows and blorbos

12. do you have any pets?

Oh, yes, I have 5 cats currently: two black cats who are twin brothers named Elvis and EJ, a Siamese named Cleo, and two orange ladies who are not related name Gigi and Missy(short for Miss Mayhem)

13. how tall are you?

5'4"...I used to say I was the same height as the Queen when people didn't believe I was short

14. favorite subject in school?

English or earth sciences

15. dream job

To quote James Baldwin: Darling I told you several times before. I have no dream job, I do not dream of labor.

No pressure tags: @immoralq @komari-maxx @forcebookish @tonyspep and anyone else that wants to play!

[theinternetisaweboflies]

Electric Boogie Chapter 6 (Chapter 1)

There was something different about Twyla.

She was wearing tights.

They were simple ribbed black wool, classic and a little old-fashioned, like the rest of her outfits (with one electrified exception), but they were new. Frankie only noticed because she had gotten so used to seeing those swirls, like living tattoos, writhing around Twyla's ankles.

Hosiery wasn't the only difference however. Twyla was acting… normal. Abnormally normal. She wasn't hiding in the shadows. She was standing in what Frankie had come to learn was one of her usual shadows, but she hadn't actually shifted to the shadow realm.

Frankie made sure not to sneak up on her this time, but Twyla jumped anyway.

"Are you okay? You're usually not this… solid."

"I'm just a little tired." Twyla hid a yawn behind her Biteology textbook. "It gets harder to use my powers."

"Late night?" Frankie asked, in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, "or more nightmares?"

It was not, judging by Twyla's tired smile. "Neither; I just couldn't sleep."

"Well, you're sleeping now." Frankie took her by the shoulders and steered her into the science lab, which didn't have a class till after lunch. Mr. Dracula had learned the hard way not to trust tired students with dimethyl sulfoxide.

Lab tables weren't the comfiest beds, but if you piled up enough lab coats, they could do in a pinch.

"I can't believe you're encouraging truancy."

"It's not truancy if you're technically at school," said Frankie, fluffing a lab coat.

"I don't think Principal Dracula would agree with you on that one," said Twyla. "Aren't you supposed to be the Student Disembodied President?"

"Oh, you're right!" said Frankie. "Then you should definitely listen to me. Catch some Zs. I'll keep watch."

Twyla looked like she was going to argue, but then she hopped up onto the makeshift bed. "Our first creepover was better."

Frankie's laugh cut off abruptly. Twyla's classic, old-fashioned, shirt had ridden up, just for a moment. Frankie didn't understand exactly what she had seen, but it didn't seem like a laughing matter.

"What is that?"

"Nothing," said Twyla, a little too quickly.

"Are those your… Those markings are usually on your ankles. Why are they up so high?" It wasn't until the last word that Frankie realized her voice had gotten a little high too. She cleared her throat. "What are they?"

Twyla sighed. It wasn't like when Cleo did it because she wanted someone to ask what was wrong so she could complain. Twyla sounded tired. Worse than missing a few nights of sleep, and they hadn't even stayed up that late at the creepover. She sounded dead tired.

"They're called Shadow Shackles," she said. "The markings."

"Shadow… Shackles?"

"At least that’s what he called them." Twyla's head was ducked so low, she was essentially talking to her knees. " A little misleading. They start with your toes, where the Boogeyman gets you when he comes out from underneath your bed. All I know is, the more negative energy I consume, the higher they get."

"But then-"

"The Shadow Shackles seemed to stop growing a few years ago," Twyla told her knees, as if Frankie hadn't spoken. Her words were convulsive, almost like she couldn't stop now that she'd started. "I thought my theory was wrong, and they weren't related to the negative energy, but it turned out he'd just been hiding the Shadow Shackles from me with Boogey Sand." At Frankie's look, she added. "Long story. He also stopped hiding his own shackles. They're… all over him. I think this is how Boogey Monsters are made. I always wondered why he never tried harder to stop me."

"That might explain why there are so few of you," said Frankie before her mouth parts could catch up with her brain parts.

"That might explain why my mother left."

"We have to get you out of there, Twyla," said Frankie.

"I hate to be cliche," said Twyla, "but think of the children."

"If your hypothesis is correct and your father is trying to turn you into a Boogey Monster, then interfering with his plans would technically protect the greatest number of children."

"From me," Twyla finished.

"From what he would turn you into," Frankie corrected, but Twyla didn't look convinced. Her arms were wrapped loosely around her waist, where Frankie knew the Shadow Shackles were squirming, even if she couldn't see them anymore.

"Why did he stop hiding the Shadow Shackles from you?" she asked.

Twyla spent a few moments tapping her fingertips against the metal lab table before answering. "My dad and I got into a bit of a fight this weekend. It was about… a lot of different things. Mostly his work. Apparently he had cut down on hours because he already had enough power over me. He can't control me completely with the Shadow Shackles, but he can keep me from using my powers. Without my powers, I can't phase."

Frankie could feel her brain parts trying to make the final computation. All of the information was there, but she just couldn't find the answer. Then she noticed Twyla's sleeves.

They were usually three-quarter. Today they were full-length. The Shadow Shackles had only reached up her stomach. There was no reason for Twyla to hide her arms.

She didn't react when Frankie slowly rolled up one sleeve. There were four parallel lines on Twyla's arm, like grill marks, but contusion-blue.

Frankie found the answer: Without her powers, Twyla couldn't dodge.

Twyla grabbed Frankie's hand, which was when she realized it was shaking.

"Stop that," said Frankie. "You shouldn't have to comfort me."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not!" She cleared her throat again. "Especially not if you think this is fine."

"It's just a couple of bruises. He gets bored easily. The only reason I didn't get any sleep last night is because he sicced the Shadow Nightmares on me, and they refused to go back in the box. Even when I said please. I had to read them a story."

"Can I hug you?" asked Frankie.

Twyla laughed for some reason. "You've never asked before."

"I'm sorry."

"That's not what I meant."

Frankie didn't know what to say to that, so she just said, "Please?"

"Yes," Twyla whispered. "Please."

Frankie stepped in between Twyla's stockinged knees and hugged her gently, in case it was more than just a couple of bruises. This time, Twyla hugged back.

Eventually, Frankie pulled away just far enough to meet Twyla's eyes, which…. appeared to be phosphorescent in some way. Fascinating. Later.

"Don't worry, Twyla. I've got at least twelve different geniuses in me, somewhere or another. I'll think of a way to save you."

#mh #monster high #mh fanfic #monster high fanfiction #frankie stein #twyla #twyla mh #twyla monster high #twyla boogeyman #child abuse #tw child abuse

[hydesjackiespuddinpop]

the 2000s circle and their personalities

Anne-Marie Kelso: A bookworm and total nerd like her mom (affectionate). She isn't the most popular in school, especially compared to her older triplet, Margie. She's an introvert and very in her shell until high school when the 'gang' comes in.

Cleo Joy-Martelli: Very spiritual and believes in good healing. I remeber @disneymbti helping me with her personality and it was something along the lines of this. Just like Lydia, she just loves being there for the ride. And similar to Darline, she comes off tough but is a huge sweetie. Also, despite being Ridge's bio daughter, they have NO resemblance personality wise.

June Guzman-Queimada: She gets unfairly judged sometimes because of her shitty dad, but is a lot like her mom. June isn’t the most popular girl in school and is actually a huge outcast. She’s also kinda sheltered, though not as much as Anne-Marie (I.e. with drinking and hooking up). She’s very open minded and considers all POVs.

Kira Kwan: She’s a lot similar to Anne-Marie in the sense that she’s an outcast, but at the same time is more extroverted than her. Just like her mom, Kira doesn’t take shit but also tries to stray away from the drama like her dad.

Jonah Shaland-Mitchell: He can be pretty oblivious at times, despite his A+ streaks. Just like Kelly, he's very gifted in science and loves school. But similar to his mom, he also has an artistic soul and is very abrasive. He loves to go boxing and play video games.

Lois Clarkson: He's like Kelso and Nate, with being a himbo and a (mostly) good friend despite not coming off so bright, but he doesn't treat women like shit the way those two did. In a way, he can be compared to Jake Peralta with his goofiness and big heart. He's also not great at school but is smart socially.

Martin Martin: He's the 'bad boy'. Always getting into trouble and uses humor as a way to cope. But he deals with a lot of pain and truama from his dad beating him constantly and his mom being an alcoholic. He's also a loner and doesn't like being around a lot of people except for his partners in crime, Lois and Jonah.

#poorni speaks verse #the '2000s circle #the 2000s circle #verse: the future age #oc: anne-marie kelso #oc: cleo joy-martelli #oc: june guzman-queimada #oc: jonah shaland-mitchell #oc: lois clarkson #oc: martin martin #oc: Kira Kwan

[pattysplaceofplaces]

Hi! Do you have any headcanons of the operatives (maybe even the faculty) as parents? Just thought it'd be fun to know if you have any.

- 💖🔫

VILE Faculty as Parents Hc’s 

[Author’s Note: Hell yeah I do! I love this concept so much and also reader gets to be the child. Let’s just say this takes place after VILE crumbles and they all escaped and have given up and are living their own lives. Readers age group is preteen.]

ShadowSan:

Once VILE was taken down he said his farewells to the group and went back to Japan so he could mend his relationship with his brother and help him with the museum. 

While our at night he found a homeless, sickly, someone that happened to you. 

Showing you kindness was the best thing in both of your lives. 

He’s a strict parent but he never yells and always hears what you have to say with an open mind. 

He homeschools you and it’s a huge help. He helps you in ways a regular school can’t and you can actually show off your true intelligence. 

Also teaches you some pickpocketing tricks and self defense but makes it VERY clear it shouldn’t be used for evil. 

Someday he’ll tell you about his criminal past, he’s just scared you’ll never see him the same way.

Dr. Bellum:

She’s more like the cool aunt than a mom. 

Hopefully you’re not allergic to cats because there’s four of them in the house. 

It’s up to you whether you want to be home school or not, either way you’re gonna learn a whole bunch of science skills. 

Makes you a bunch of yummy food and loves to do fun things with you. 

She’s into some modern media and pop culture so both of you may be up for hours making up theories, pointing out details, or even arguing over which ship is superior. 

You’re her pride and joy and will electrocute someone if they look at you the wrong way. 

Gives a lot of encouragement, it doesn’t matter if it’s creating a bomb or having a test to do. 

She will always be your friend and be proud of you no matter what you do with your life.

You can always rely on her.

Coach Brunt: 

Once a momma bear always a momma bear.

Doesn’t believe that you can do anything, you’re an angel in her eyes.

“Y/n didn’t push you down the stairs even though there is proof. My sweet angel wouldn’t do that!” 

If you go to a public school your friends will think she is the fun mom. 

Your birthday parties are always super fun filled and snacks are always made when your friends are over. 

Meanwhile the parents don’t like her because her style of parenting can be different than how others might take care of their kid. 

They even get annoyed since their kids favor her. 

“Y/n’s mom doesn’t get mad over failed homework.”

Definitely a PTA mom.

Maelstrom: 

Goes from: 

“What the hell is this??”

To:

“If anyone hurts Y/n I will become a war criminal.”

If you have an alt style he absolutely loves it.

Both of you are definitely vampires or slashers for Halloween.

Everyone is scared of him because of his sinister smile and personality. You don’t get the big deal though, he lets you braid his hair and buys you Sanrio plushies. 

If you get a partner god help them. He won’t threaten them directly but will certainly drop hints. 

He shares his love of psychology with you. You can read someone’s body language easily and spot the most cunning of manipulators.

Countess Cleo:

Doesn’t matter what your style is, she makes sure it looks great on you. 

Please tell her all the latest gossip going on at your school she needs to know.

If you need to rant go to her because she’ll get angry, happy, or sad with you depending on what’s being talked about.

Teaches you how to be calm even when you’re angry. 

Also teaches you about the history of art

She’s a “don’t talk to me or my child ever again” kind of mom. 

Encourages you to do theater in school and will go to all of your plays or rehearsals. 

Vile Operatives 

Tigress:

Some would say she isn’t the best mother but you disagree.

She is a retired operative but if someone says something she’ll bring the claws back out.

Most supportive mom ever.

Oh you’re trans?

Both of you are going to the mall, getting ice cream, and buying you a whole new wardrobe.

Even if you say you want to be janitor she will do research about the career. 

She’s with you for the ride. 

Grey:

Worried about 24/7. 

The cool dad that is also your friend’s father figure.

Likes hearing about you talk about your day.

Tries to keep you away from all the criminal stuff because he doesn’t want you to be like him. 

You probably find out on your own and confront him on it. (now I gotta write this.)

If anyone does anything to you they’ll die. 

Not even joking.

He stood for the “leave no witnesses” rule remember? 

Unrelated but plays Donkey Kong in every game where he’s a playable character. 

Mime Bomb:

Your father is weird.

He’s street performer 

He doesn’t talk 

And somehow he gets a lot of money from his job. 

People are scared of him.

But you love your funky dad. 

He’s a father and a friend.

Like on the weekends both of you will be watching cult classics at three AM and while eating ice cream and painting each other’s nails black. 

Will let you put makeup on him.

Yes he will wear it for the whole day.

El Topo + Le Chevre:

You are so blessed to have such great dads.

They teach you at least three languages: English, French, and Spanish. 

They don’t hide their criminal past from you but expect you to choose a better career path.

El Topo always makes you and Le Chevre breakfast. He is such a great cook. 

If you go to school he even makes your lunches no matter how old you are. 

Everyone is jealous of your delicious lunches.

Definitely learn parkour from Le Chevre.

It impresses everyone.

They love having family outings.

They always buy (aka steal) cool stuff for you. 

Paper Star:

Definitely not mom material but she tries for you. 

Teaches you everything she knows and encourages your wild side. 

Home schools you since otherwise she’ll encourage you to beat up your teachers or bullies. 

Sings to you all the time.

Loves to style/cut/dye your hair.

Not many restrictions either, dress how you want. 

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandeigo 2019 #anon request #where in the world is carmen sandiego #Platonic Headcanons #Literally healing my inner child #Carmen Sandiego headcanons #Carmen Sandiego platonic Headcanons #Platonic VILE #VILE headcanons

[haunteddrawings]

after a lot of time, effort, and an unusual number of helpful dreams: demons <3

thoughts about them (I have. so many) under the cut

ok so literally everything about all of them is subject to change, but I’m happy where they are for now! I’m building up a lot of stuff for them, but it’s very work in progress. there is some important lore I doubt will change too much though!

the demons essentially are “evil” gods (none of them are super evil, but they are in general more evil inclined/presenting, and they all have pointy ears and horns so they’re one big group that was y’know. demonized) I’m going to have to design the “good” gods at some point but I have some other stuff I want to do before jumping into more mass character design, so those designs might force me to change these ones idk. it’s gotta make sense as one big world y’know.

all these guys (and the angels or whatever I'll call them when I get there) come from an original god. this gods pronouns (for now thy/thym/thyr/thymself) are the basic "godly" pronoun set that all of the demons share. this god also (and most importantly) shattered into pieces and leaked stuff everywhere. the stuff became everything that exists! this original god was made of everything that now exists and also nothing (y'know the science thing abt how before matter existed time didn't either? something about that) so the demons aren't flesh and blood but instead made of magic or something. this means that they all technically have the ability to shape shift, though it isn't a huge part of what they do.

also despite being gods, they aren't all powerful! they have the power to influence the world, but don't have full control over anything (for the most part)

now a rundown of all of them (not strictly in this order. kallie had to go first because of how important she was to me doing this at all)

Kallie: she/thy

my absolute blorbo. was my second demon but the one I cared about the most by far. did 4 pieces of her for a school project I love her so much. she started out as a demon with both a pink demon from and a "normal" human form. she also had wings and was a galah (pink bird). for some reason. her human form was because originally the idea was that she was infiltrating a high school in order to get close to someone so she could betray & kill them in as painful a way as possible. she was an agent of my hell on a mission. then shenanigans occur (this was supposed to be a comedy idk)

NOW: she's the demon of war, violence, and chaos. she's often confused with the love demon because of how much heart patterned stuff she wears. she's silly and cute! always wearing a different outfit. like 6'2" without platforms. she's extremely unreliable when sharing information, and thinks she's really humble (she's not).

Elio: he/thy

my first demon! used to be named sol so this name isn't set in stone but y'know. not a man! this is a lesbian! original concept had him fall in love with a human which I might keep but who knows.

he's basically a demon laywer. demon of laws, oaths, and fire. in the lore he used to be wayyy more evil, more fire than law, and a tyrant! he used to suck! much more chill now though, and more law motivated too.

Vesh: they/thy

sporty icon. demon of electricity, energy, and mischief (they're a troublemaker and a prankster). high energy thus: sports. also I needed a theme outfit-wise because it was really lame originally.

Cleo: she/thy

Cleo was the one I had a helpful dream about. she's demon of doubt, secrets, and being hidden. she can also shape shift into any type of snake!

shes really fond of humans, and really helpful despite having no reputation of being so. everything she says might be a lie though, so she helps point humans in the right direction, but her info needs to be verified. strong believer in shades of grey. she and vika despise each other. her horns aren't visible because I forgot them and couldn't make them work with hair so their really small. it's good hair though, right?

Nira: she/thy

demon of water & fluidity. honestly her design was so easy I don't have many thoughts. she's the tallest. very shy. either apathetic or full of rage and tearing things apart. something about the moon. that's all I got.

Vika: he/they/thy

demon of knowledge, facts, and the mind/the brain. pretends he knows everything but he really doesn't. an egotistical motherfucker. they are the largest source of information out there though. doesn't believe in maybes or subjective answers. if they answer a question with a maybe or subjective answer they will just tell you one answer. doesn't like sharing information but loves showing off. must be very very respectful and stroke his ego to get his (often extremely helpful) information. doesn't know everything though, they're not omniscient. he and Cleo despise each other.

Frankie: he/thy

demon of emotion, beauty, and sex. the actual love demon. a bitch but very very cool so it's waved away by those not victims of it. appreciate beauty and confidence above all. has a fun pink twin purple twin thing with kallie. they are not twins, nor are they particularly close. very dramatic. feels emotions very strongly. often underestimated.

Keres: she/they/thy

demon of darkness, death, and peace. an absolute sweetheart. cane user. slightly separated from the rest of the group. cares for the dead. a highly feared and beloved god. I love her your honor

and that's all of them! these probably aren't all the demons that exist, but it's all I'm making for right now. if you actually read all this, thank you! I really appreciate it. this is the most I've ever cared about ocs before <33

#can you tell i really care about these guys? #yeah #honestly while kallie is so important to any of this shes no longer my fav #cleo and keres are tied for that rn #deities ocs tag #<- probably need one of those

[jojo0039]

*Pogue for Life* Heists Part 2

After a couple of hours of explaining the plan to Topper, they finally make it to the train station where the cross is supposed to be.

"There are like a million trains here. How are we gonna find the right one?" Sarah questions as they stand on top of a parked train overlooking the whole station.

"Well, we know that it's car 750x on the train to Raleigh." Jo states.

"Yea, so now we just gotta find it." JJ comments.

"Well, news flash, we're not getting out of here without being noticed with a giant cross." Kie states.

"We don't have to. We can nab it somewhere further in the country. Just gotta figure out how to stop the train." Pope informs them.

"Just leave that to me." JJ tells them.

"How you gonna do that?" Cleo asks.

"I got an uncle up in New Bern. When he got tipsy, he'd just throw an old chain across the tracks, just for shits and giggles. That old chain would stop all the train traffic." JJ tells them.

"A chain?" Jo questions.

"He's actually on to something. There is a low-voltage current that runs across all rail tracks. Throw a chain on it, you close that circuit." Pope informs them.

"See I knew my science." JJ retorts.

Jo gives him a dumbfounded look.

"The problem is we don't have a chain." Kie tells them.

"No, but I bet there are jumper cables in the truck somewhere. Would that work?" Sarah questions.

"Yea, it would." Pope answers.

"Yo! What's going on?"

They turn to see Topper pacing back and forth by the truck parked below them.

"Alright, you all wait here. Me and Pope will go look for it and send a signal once we find it." Cleo says.

"Alright, this actually seems like this can work, you guys. Let's do this."

Jo does the Pogue shake with Cleo as Sarah and Kie do it, while Pope and JJ do it.

                                                 *******************************

Jo jumps down from the train to talk to Topper.

"What the hell do you guys have me involved in Joanna?" Topper grills her.

"It's nothing bad, okay? You're not gonna get in trouble for this." she assures him.

"Jo, we're literally trying to take something off a train. How is that okay?" he asks.

"I know that you mean well, but please just shut up and live a little." she tells him.

He looks like he's about to yell at her when she puts her hand up.

"You have literally done everything that your perfect mommy wants you to do. I believe that every teen needs to explore and branch out of their comfort zone before it's too late."

She grabs his face to keep his attention.

"So shut up, live a little, and enjoy the ride." she tells him.

Sarah comes up to them.

"Hey where are the jumper cables?" she questions.

"I just want everyone to know that if we get caught, we're all gonna go to federal prison." he states.

"I would do it, for Pope." JJ says as he and Kie get on his bike.

"Get in the truck Topper and live a little." Jo lectures.

Topper rolls his eyes, but gets in the truck.

Jo sits in the back seat as Sarah sits up front with Topper as they follow behind JJ.

They keep a steady pace beside the train.

They slow down as the train comes to a stop.

Once Pope gives them the signal, Topper drives the truck up to the car that Pope and Cleo are standing in.

"Where the hell are we right now, guys? This is ridiculous." He stops at the car.

Sarah instantly jumps out.

"Quit bitching. You already agreed to help." Jo snaps as she gets out of the truck.

"How's it looking?" Jo asks them.

"We're still looking." Cleo replies.

Jo holds the flashlight up to give them extra light.

"I found it!" Jo hears Pope.

"What are we doing here?" Topper questions as he comes to stand beside Jo.

"We're gonna put this in your truck bed." Pope tells him.

"That's gonna scratch the paint." Topper argues.

"We will get whatever damages are caused fixed before your dad finds out." Jo tells him.

"Help guide it."

Jo and Topper help guide the cross slowly onto the truck bed.

They hear the train start-up.

"We gotta hurry!"

A man comes running towards them.

"Stop right there!"

They get the cross in the back and hop in the truck.

"This is insane! How the hell did I let you convince me into this?" Topper continues to complain.

"Just drive!" Sarah yells.

                      ********************************

They drive past the train.

Jo looks behind them and sees the cops following behind them.

"Shit, we have cops."  she tells them.

"Top, step on it!" she shouts.

Topper starts driving faster once they make it onto the main road.

"There's someone on us." Topper says.

"That's JJ and Kie." Sarah states.

They continue to speed on the main road.

JJ drives up alongside the truck.

"What the hell is he doing?" Topper demands to know.

"I don't know." Jo answers.

She rolls the window down.

"What are you doing?" she shouts.

"Top, hold it steady!" JJ shouts.

"I'm trying!" he shouts back.

"What are you doing?!"

Jo watches as Kie jumps from the bike onto the back of the truck.

Jo leans her head out the window.

"Kie! Are you okay?" she asks.

Kie gives her a thumbs up.

"Did she make it?" Sarah asks with concern.

She made it she's fine.

They notice JJ stop the bike and turn around.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sarah asks.

"Maybe he's just trying to get rid of the cops." Topper suggests.

They watch as JJ flies toward the cops.

The cops start chasing JJ on the bike.

"Stop the truck Topper." Jo demands.

"No, Jo, I'm not stopping the truck." Topper argues.

"Stop the truck!" Pope shouts.

"Stop the truck now Topper!" Sarah tells him.

"We're going to get JJ!" Jo shouts.

"I'm not going to jail for you. No chance." Topper argues.

"Please Topper, stop the truck!"

Jo starts to have tears roll down her face.

Topper notices and starts to feel bad.

"Alright, alright. Damn it!" Topper stops the truck.

"I'm not going to jail Sarah. I can't." he says.

"Turn the truck around!" Cleo shouts.

"Hey, look at me. They're gonna arrest him. I can't let that happen. We can't leave him behind. Please. I will never ask you for anything again." Jo pleads.

Topper slams his hands on the wheel.

He turns the truck around to catch up to JJ and the cops.

"You need to go faster." Sarah tells him.

"I'm trying!" he yells back.

"You're not trying hard enough." Jo argues.

"Turn left!" Pope directs from the back.

"I'm not turning left." Topper argues.

"Turn!"

Topper relents and turns left.

They are following alongside JJ being chased.

"Turn right!" Pope yells.

Topper turns right.

"He's on the overpass." Sarah states.

They watch as JJ goes into the other lane and flies off the bike.

The bike goes through the railing and flies onto the ground in front of them.

Topper instantly stops the truck.

Jo feels completely numb as she gets out of the truck.

She can't hear her friends shouting for JJ.

She can feel her hands shaking as she looks around for JJ.

"I wish I did that on purpose."

She hears from behind her.

His voice was able to cut through her panic attack.

She turns around and instantly spots him already staring at her.

She gasps as she feels relief wash over her body.

Pope traps him in a big hug.

Then Sarah wraps her arms around him.

He stands there just staring at Jo who doesn't look away from him.

He steps closer to her.

She slaps him across the face.

They both stare at each other in shock.

She then grabs his face in her hands.

"Don't you ever do that to me again." she tells him.

She can feel his breath on her face.

"I'm sorry." he tells her.

He wipes the tears from her face.

"Hey! Kids! Stay right there!" The cop shouts from above them.

"Shit! We gotta go!" They jump back in the truck and Topper drives off.

                                           **********************************

Jo is sitting against the door with JJ beside her.

"They definitely called it in." Topper starts freaking out.

"Turn here!" JJ states.

"Don't touch the driver man!" Topper argues.

JJ goes to reach forward again and Sarah slaps his hand.

"He said don't touch the driver!" she lectures.

"Its a liability." Topper states.

"Then just go faster." Jo mumbles leaning her head on the window.

"If I go faster, that's gonna draw attention." Topper argues.

"I feel that ship is sailed already." JJ argues.

"You guys are a freaking nightmare. Do you literally argue about everything?" Topper questions.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we do." JJ retorts.

"Put the pedal to the metal, boy!" Cleo yells.

"Put in a little bit, you're going like 65!" JJ argues.

"Fine!"

Topper put his foot on the gas and goes faster.

He hits a bump and the cross falls off.

Topper stops and they get out to check the cross.

Pope opens the crate and inside is not the cross but cement blocks.

Jo places her hand over her mouth.

They had stolen a fake.

Jo knows instantly that Rafe set it up that way.

Jo places her hand on Pope's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." she tells him.

They hear sirens in the distance.

"Okay, we gotta go. I can't be here. My grandfather is a judge." Topper starts freaking out.

"Dawg, would you relax? They're not gonna think some dude in flip flops is part of a robbery." JJ retorts.

"Oh yea? With the crate sitting right next to my truck?" Topper argues with JJ.

"Would you two stop and just get in the truck?" she shouts at both of them.

They all climb in the truck and Topper drives off.

 Once they make it back, Jo turns her phone on and charges it.

She plugs it in the car and checks her messages.

She has a bunch of missed calls and texts from Rafe asking her where she is and if she's okay.

She doesn't have the energy to call him back so she drives to her mom's trailer.

She opens the door and walks inside.

She jumps when she sees a figure sitting on the couch.

The light comes on and she sighs in relief when she realizes who it is.

"Dad?" she greets.

#outer banks #pogue for life #joanna mills #jj maybank #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #cleo #topper thornton #pogues for life #p4l

[druvjelly]

Ohhh yeah, the fanfiction

I’m posting chapter 2 (aka 2.1 here). The other part is a bit down on my page. Hopefully not buried tough. But the whole thing is on my ao3

26th of October, Tuesday, 09:30

Walking towards his locker as EDM blasted throughout his headphones. Holt was just awaiting a regular school day. Despite what happened yesterday. Moving his head in sync to the rhythm and tapping his hands. But it went a bit off key when he heard two familiar voices.

“So when are we going to tell everyone else about what we saw?”

Holt turned his attention to see Frankie and Operetta. His interest peaked a bit, so why not approach them?

“Well maybe after we change the candy because I think the only one who wants to eat it is Abbey.” Operetta answered.

Holt put his arms over their shoulders.

“Hi.” He said.

Frankie jumped a little before her bolts charged some electricity before releasing it. With the volts being transferred to Holt and Operetta.

“Sorry! I just got a bit scared” Frankie apologized.

“It’s alright Frankie Fine. But what were you two talking about?” Holt asked, lowering the volume of the song a little.

Operetta and Frankie looked at each other, their eyes all widened.

“Well….” “Umm…” both of them said.

“We were at the candy store. The owner asked us if we could help them. And the money we got from helping was amazing. But you could only eat the old candy.” Frankie said.

Holt believed what they said despite her shaky voice and the other obvious signs. If they were lying, what would they be lying about?

Just like the chord in a rock song, the conversation topic changed too.

“So how did the music project go?” Holt asked.

“It went amazing, thanks for your help Holt.” Operetta told him right as the bell rang.

The three of them parted their ways as the next lesson would begin. Which was… Mad Science. Ugh, usually Jackson does stuff like this but he just felt like being in charge this time, plus he could just read his notes.

When he arrived in the classroom the rest of the gang was there. Deuce, Cleo, Heath, Abbey, and a few others. He sat down right next to his cousin and took out the notes Jackson left in their notebook, but it would take almost half a century to read it all. Holt looked at the chalkboard while turning his head to the side.

“Alkynes”

Wow. Basic normie science. He looked around in the book to see Jackson’s notes. It was probably somewhere.

“Holt, what are you looking for?” Heath asked.

“I’m trying to find what Jackson wrote about this subject. But everything he writes is so tiny!” Holt said, spinning his pencil around.

“Why didn’t you just make Jackson in charge?” Abbey asked.

“Well. I just want to know what it’s like. And I fucking hate it. I will never do it again.” Holt groaned before laying his head on the desk.

His brain felt fried. Why couldn’t the few memories and facts they share be one of these sciency stuff. But thankfully for not being Jackson, the teacher didn’t pay attention. He could just vibe to the music instead. To his surprise though, the teacher caught him.

“Surprising seeing you here Mr Hyde. It’s always Jackson who attends my lessons.” The teacher said.

Holt’s attention was thrown at the teacher. Shit, now he needed to do something. He searched the whole damn book until he found a singular sentence that could help him. Eyes looked on those tiny letters until he found a singular thing he could use.

“Alcohol is a type of alkyne” Holt said quickly before heading back to his one man music jam.

“Well correct, thank you for your basic knowledge Mr Hyde.” The teacher said.

As a few more minutes passed the lesson was over and they all just walked around the hallway. Holt greeted people he saw. This day was probably way more decent than the previous one. Welp until Heath was suddenly back to being Heath.

“WOW GUYS! Look at that.” He yelled before running outside.

“I need to grab my charger man.” Holt said.

Heath was now outside though, and everyone else. So it felt like he needed to follow them. When he arrived outside there was a massive pumpkin patch filled with a scarecrow and several jack-o-lanterns. There was some candy in there too.

“Who would leave all of this here?” Abbey questioned looking at Heath standing in the middle of the patch.

Heath unwrapped one of the candies and plopped the black bath shaped hard piece into his mouth, before he spit it out with a disgusted look on his face. People looked at him and wondered what he ate. He threw a few at Clawd, Manny, and Abbey. All of them tasted it and it was.

“Dude, this is….” Clawd said.

“Black liquorice.” Manny followed.

“Salty too, I enjoy this.” Abbey said. While the other two got faces of disgust.

“Who the fuck buys salty black liqource unless you’re from Goreway.” Clawd said.

Heath pulled up the pumpkin with the revolting treats in it, there was a rope tied to it. The sound of something getting launched could be heard. Looking up at the sky to see a myriad of pumpkins flying towards him. Oh shit. He went into a defensive pose as Abbey ran right towards the makeshift pumpkin patch and made a shield with her ice powers to protect him. The day was saved. For them…

It became as silent as a library in a slasher movie, the only thing heard was the loud breathing until a scream came out of someone's mouth, Cleo’s mouth.

Covered in orange sludge from head to toe, her face more red than a Skullphora grave de rougé lipstick. Saying she was done with life was an enormous understatement. Nothing else left her mouth besides that scream, but based on those eyebrows and wide open eyes. It was best for her not to speak. For the better, Deuce guided away to the women's bathroom before he headed back to the gate. Where other things began to happen.

“Baby please don’t leave me here!” Holt said clutching his phone as it reached zero.

The music stopped playing and the flame stopped burning. Now there was just an awkward Jackson standing in Holt’s place. So small, so timid in a situation like this. Like a hare in a hunting range trying to navigate between the tall grass of monsters. Hiding in a place like this was impossible when most people wanted some rabbit stew.

“don’t mind me...” He said under his breath, sneaking around.

Before he bumped into a familiar red t-shirt. Oh shit.

“I’m sorry Manny…” he said before his feet were no longer on the ground, instead Manny lifted him up so they could have eye contact at the exact same height.

“Well yeah you should be.” Manny told him. “Do you need to remember?”

And then those dreaded words left his mouth.

“You’re half normie and we do not want to see someone like you at our school. So you better get out of here or you will wish you were never born.”

That was what he was told before he fell face first onto the ground and despite it just being grass, his hands got pretty scraped up. His glasses? Well they just got a minor crack in them that he noticed when he picked them up. Jackson turned his head around to see everyone else staring at him. All the things he heard was his own heartbeat and his heavy breathing. Trying to stand up but his legs are to shakey. Though he did get the balance to immediately run away after what happened.

When he arrived at the library, he looked for a place to hide. It was a bit hard with a pair of broken glasses and eyes covered in tears, and just. Broke down.

At the same time Frankie tried to follow him until two guys behind her began to argue, she quickly removed their hand so it could find Jackson. While they went to look at whatever the mansters were doing.

“Manny. We are friends but if I see you do stuff like this you are done with any of the sports teams!” Clawd told him.

“Yeah, we are best friends. But you can’t treat my cousin like that.” Heath added.

Manny stood there silent as all eyes were now on him.

“It was an impulse I had.” Manny told both of them.

“An impulse to throw Jackson around like a ragdoll and then break his glasses like it was nothing?” Frankie said.

Approaching all three of them before sending a small volt of electricity into Manny’s nose ring. There have been times she has been disappointed with her classmates, but this time. They were just angry, not in a “I want to stab you” way, just angry.

As tension rose around all four of them, it would be no less than a few seconds before one of them would attack, nobody would know if it would be Manny, Clawd, or Heath. What if it was all 3 of them. The fire was burning and the claws were sharpened. Some students began to chant “FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT” right behind them, forming a circle. Frankie slowly backed away, running into the crowd trying to head inside. Though before Frankie could even blink it was a 2 on 1 fight.

Pieces of cloth were ripped away, fur thrown on the ground like nothing. They were all surprised no screams came out of their mouths as everything continued. Clawd had his hands on Manny’s t-shirt, pulling it closer and closer until Manny needed to cover his snout or else his stomach would turn from the vile odor.

“Do you even brush your teeth?“ he asked before punching him in his stomach.

“Well I do, but I had beef for breakfast” Clawd said before punching him back, making him trip over.

“Do you want another serving?” Heath asked before lighting a small fire.

At the sidelines Draculaura and Clawdeen were standing, One of them overly concerned and one just rolling her eyes.

“Don’t worry, he has been in worse fights before” Clawdeen said.

Out of nowhere Abbey appeared behind them. “It’s normal, reminds me of yak fights at home” she said right as Manny kicked Heath in the face. Everyone stood in shock as something dropped from his mouth directly before he coughed out some blood.

“Abbey, is losing teeth normal?”

“Uncommon.” She said moving her hand lightly.

Even after everything the fight still continued. Until a loud voice broke everyone’s attention.

“ENOUGH STUDENTS”

Oh shit. Bloodgood was here. As her footsteps got closer and closer to everyone, the three of them turned around with their hearts beating so hard it almost fell out of their body.

“All 3 of you to my office now” she commanded.

“Yes Headmistress Bloodgood” all three of them said almost in sync. Following them to her office.

11.00am

Frankie was walking around the halls with their hand still disattached. Maybe it had already found Jackson. Why couldn’t school end already, it was not even noon yet and so much crap had happened.

Her being on the empty second floor with the only other sound being the tapping of their shoes. Trying to hear other sounds but it was just them there. Plus some finger tapping from her loose hand. She began to run towards the sound to see it was right next to the door of the library.

“Of course he would go there.” Frankie said before putting back their hand.

She stepped into the library, every part of her view now covered in the endless hallways with books that haven’t even been touched in millenia. Hallways formed like a maze with the tall umber colored bookshelves being more confusing than guiding. Frankie tried to listen for him, trying to find any sign of life. However nothing could be heard or smelled if you didn’t count the smell of the old books.

It felt like she was running around in circles. But Jackson was her friend so why would they give up. She took another step that echoed throughout the building. To hear something crumble. A piece of paper. Franke picked the paper and read what was on it. “Holt, we are screwed.” Oh… well, Jackson definitely wrote that to say at least. Frankie put it in her handbag and as they did, they heard something else than their own thoughts. Some crying. She headed towards the sound to find the library computers. The crying got louder and louder until she looked under a desk to see Jackson hiding there.

“Jackson!” Frankie said.

They bent down trying to hug him but she was pushed away. Jackson looked at her trying to adjust his broken glasses.

“Please I just want to be left alone.” Jackson said, turning around.

“I know this week has been really hard but Jackson, you do not need to worr-” Frankie replied before being interrupted.

“Then why does no one want me here?” Jackson asked.

It went silent once again, no more crying, no more high heels tapping on the stone floor. Just silence. Frankie looked at Jackson with a frown on their face. With thousands of responses in their mind but none felt right to say.

“Dude. Everyone wants you here.” A third person said.

Frankie turned around to see Deuce who put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

“No, they don’t want me. Everyone else wants Holt.” Jackson said as he crawled out of the desk and stood up. “And I understand why. I’m this tiny normie nerd and Holt is this cool m-”

Deuce put his hand on his shoulder again. “Jackson, do you think Clawd and Heath don’t want you?” He asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t they?” Jackson sighed.

“Dude, they got into a fight for you! I am pretty sure Heath lost a tooth just from that fight.”

“Really?”

“Yes Jackson, it was a bit brutal though,” Frankie said.

“Bloodgood had to break up the fight and now all 3 of them are in the office, and Heath needs to see his dentist.” Deuce said as he took out something from his pocket.

“Why would Clawd attack a team member? He loves his team.” Jackson said, still looking down at the ground.

“Dude, he’s Clawd. Do I need to explain?” Deuce replied before putting something in Jackson’s hands. “I also think you need this.”

Jackson felt what was in his hand, it was his charger. He immediately began to charge his phone.

“Thanks Deuce, but how did you get into my locker?”

As Deuce was trying to answer the question. There was an announcement on all of the speakers around the school.

“May every student be at the ensemble hall now”

All 3 of them just followed the message and headed there. As everyone else. But there were still a few questions that lingered in their heads. While walking down the stairs, Jackson looked up at Deuce before opening his mouth.

“Shouldn’t you be with Cleo?”

“Well, I followed her to the ladies restroom but then I let her friends take care of her. There is no way in hell I am going into that place.”

Well, not an awful answer. As the three got closer and closer to the ensemble hall. The more students appeared. Everyone seemed too interested in their own thing to notice them. Except for Cleo who confidently walked up to her boyfriend before grabbing him by his biceps.

“Deuce there are you.” She said before walking away with him.

Both Frankie and Jackson waved goodbye before Frankie noticed her friends and approached them. Now, Jackson was alone again as he reached the entrance of the hall and went to the first empty seats he could spot.

He sat down and checked his phone, it had a small crack on it but he could deal with it after all the crap he went through. It had charged a bit at least, and a call from Heath? It still felt so surreal, seeing his cousin turn on his best friend for someone like him. Was he stuck in a weird realistic dream? He continued to ponder for a while until someone rubbed their fist onto their head. A bit shook, he turned around to see two pretty injured guys, and Gil. They didn’t say anything to each other, they just waved before they watched Bloodgood enter the stage.

“So, students, the past two days there have been some humans who have vandalized some schools and attacked a few of our students. I have gotten a few calls from some worried parents, so paired with everything. I and the school administrators have come to the conclusion that every student should stay away from the human town. I will also add because they have figured out how to get here. During the weekend we will make sure that every one of you stays indoors. I understand your disappointment. But it is for your own safety.”

A crowd of groans and “what” began to come out from the students as everyone began to talk to their seatmate about the rules. Except for Frankie who just had their hand raised up in the air. Bloodgood looked around in the audience before spotting them.

“Mx Stein. Do you have anything important to say?” She asked.

Frankie nodded her head as they stood up and began to walk towards the stage. With each footstep their heart began to beat faster and faster. The moment they reached the stage and grabbed the mic, she took a huge breath.

“Hi.”

“HI FRANKIE!” Heath said back.

Frankie smiled back at him before starting their speech, albeit with a shaky voice.

“So, I know everyone has been scared recently with everything that has been going on and with the school's new curfew. And it shouldn’t be like this. A few days ago, me and my friends visited the catacombs. Where we saw this wonderful play about halloween. Just a few centuries ago Halloween was a holiday that both humans and monsters celebrated together. It was meant to show our kindness and love for each other. I don’t know when it became a tradition to hunt us down and attack our school. But this needs to stop. We can take back Halloween if we try! There is no need to be afraid! We can do this! ” She said before putting back the microphone.

It was silent for a few seconds, before one person clapped, then another one, then everyone was clapping. Chanting their name in a hectic choir. They stood up, but soon the word Frankie went into other things. Things she didn’t even intend at first.

“Frankie Stein!”

“Frankie! Frankie!”

“Take back halloween!”

“Halloween will be ours!”

Definitely didn’t intend on the final part. Though it couldn't be that bad… right?

(Well. Time to binge watch monster high again to refresh my memory on AO3)

#monster high #monster high fanfiction #monster high fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #jackson jekyll #holt Hyde #ah yeah #this has been laying for a while #but school and splatoon 3 keeps frying my brain

[adamwatchesmovies]

Autómata (2014)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Writer/director Gabe Ibáñez has clearly seen Blade Runner. He’s obviously read Isaac Asimov’s works. What he didn't do is learn from them. Autómata aspires to be another cerebral sci-fi film. Instead, it's just a cheap clone. The slivers of good ideas peppered throughout are lost in boredom. If that wasn't bad enough, the film can’t even get its own rules straight.

In 2044, 99% of humanity has died. The survivors live in cities surrounded by deserts and rely on humanoid robots called Pilgrims for day-to-day labor. These robots have two unalterable protocol: they cannot harm any form of life and cannot alter themselves or other robots in any way. Jacq Vaucan (Antonio Banderas) is an insurance investigator working for ROC - the company that manufactures Pilgrims - who learns that a robot may have found a way to circumvent the second protocol.

Autómata begins with a proxy for Asimov’s three laws of robotics and is set in the world of Blade Runner, with towering sexy lady holograms in the distance and a crappy, overpopulated city below. An interesting, if familiar setup. What's next? Instead of a cop, our protagonist is an everyman. That’s an unexpected turn. And then? Bad decisions. The machine who turns Jacq’s world upside down is a sex robot working at a brothel. Not only has it been modified to do things beyond its basic programming (not illegal), it’s able to inflict pain on its clients if they request it. Big no-no. Now we're going somewhere. Or so you think. The movie isn’t really interested in exploring this idea. In fact, the sexbot is a massive misstep. The thing doesn’t wear any clothes so you see it parade around in the nude. Every time you see it from the back, you notice its individually modelled butt cheeks and can’t stop thinking about what those greasy robot fetish perverts have done in between them. Grosser is the fact the robot doesn’t look human at all. When some dude can build a gynoid who looks EXACTLY like Scarlett Johansson (also very gross) and the people of 2044 are having sex with a fancy store mannequin, your movie’s got problems! It may seem like a trivial detail but this thing’s a big part of the movie and there was no reason to make it a sex robot!

As the audience tries their hardest not to stare at Cleo’s crotch and plastic breasts, wondering how or why exactly someone would pay to do anything with those, the picture introduces a conflict. Following some outrageously stupid decisions by Jacq, the authorities believe he’s in cahoots with the altered machine and decide to give chase. Time to introduce the flattest, most uninteresting, most one-dimensional evil baddies you could… and again, for no reason.

It’s a badly written film. Whenever interesting thoughts are introduced, there’s no follow-through. Instead, the story goes for the generic path, the uninteresting path. Antonio Banderas doesn’t feel right for the part. I don’t want to pigeon-hole him in the role of a sexy action hero but he spends the entire film covered in dust or miserable. The charismatic actor couldn't be less appealing. The special effects to bring the robots to life are quite good, up until the very end of the picture when we're introduced to a new model. It sticks out like a sore thumb. The longer you watch, the less forgiving you become. Even before Autómata unintentionally has one of the robots break its own rules, you’ve given up on it.

Those who appreciate a good science-fiction story are the only ones who might find anything appealing within Autómata - a generic robot title if I’ve ever heard one. Unfortunately, those same people have seen the works this one is aping dozens of times. It’s forgettable. (On DVD, June 21, 2019)

#Autómata #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Gabe Ibáñez #Igor Legaretta Gomez #Javier Sanchez Donate #Antonio Banderas #Birgitte Hjort Sorensen #Dylan McDermott #Robert Forster #Tim McInnerny #Melanie Griffith #2014 movies #2014 films

[korasonata]

I think this is just what my blog is now. Model streams have taken over. Sorry, not sorry. Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo paper model streams part 5! (Featuring a heavily sleep deprived Joe)

—

Cleo (talking to her cat): Ok. You have had attention. Are you— are you going to go? *pausing* This is the sort of thing I ask Joe. Umm… *laughing*

Joe: Constantly!

Cleo: *laughing* You’ve had your attention, can you go now?

Joe: Can you just not be here. *both laughing*

—

Cleo: Yeah, I have to start gluing things to other things. Badly. And, uh, realizing where I’ve messed up. Which is EVERYWHERE!

Joe: Uh oh.

Cleo (totally not fine): Its fine. It’s fine. I’m fin— how are you Joe?

—

Joe: It makes about as much sense as anything else I do? So…

Cleo: I mean yeah. I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it cause I’m not rude. But, you know.

*both laughing*

Joe: Now you’re just lying to me!

Cleo: *laughing* WOW!! Joe!! My heart is just hurting! Now.

Joe: Mhm.

Cleo: You can tell can’t you, I’m deeply— intensely wounded by that statement that you just made.

—

Joe: I was gonna say, we’re gonna have to call whatever the British version of an ambulance is.

Cleo: Um, I think— and I could be wrong here, the British equivalent of an ambulance is…an ambulance.

Joe: oh, ok that’s really good to know. Cause like, not that I’m planning on getting injured while I’m over there, but like—

Cleo: I mean, if you carry on talking that way you might.

Joe: I mean if I meet you, then there’s a chance that somethings gonna get shoved in my eye or something.

Cleo: Somethings gonna get taken off.

—

Joe: I mean, they say it’s the shotty carpenter that blames his poor tools, but I mean look at this.

—

Cleo (about her bisexual tags on twitch): Hold on, hold on, I need to explain what “visibility” means to bisexuals. Bisexuals are often— um, hidden in the community. They are often, um, not treated as either part of the gay community and the straight community doesn’t really appreciate them either. So, having visibility for bisexuals is very important. As it is for any other place. Also having those tags on your stream show that you are a safe place for those people to go. So, you know, actually labeling those things is important because it shows people that they are not alone. And not being alone? Really important. (To Joe) Sorry, am getting frustrated.

Joe: As somebody who’s been alone for the last year and a half with this stupid isolation, uh, yeah.

Cleo: Yeah! Being alone and not feeling alone is really important.

Joe: If you need to be explained at this point in the pandemic why feeling alone is not good, like I don’t know what to say.

—

Cleo (reading chat): What’s my favourite minecraft mob? Do people have favourite minecraft mobs?

Joe (very tired): Just say whichever mod’s here. Who’s got a sword *scrolling through Cleo’s chat* umm… yeah it’s AnnaBomBanana. Is everyone’s favourite minecraft mod.

Cleo: …moB.

Joe: …MOB! OH!

Cleo: *continuous laughing*

—

Joe: This is gonna go off of the rails further and further. There’s no— there’s no rails anymore! It’s just, somebody has scrawled “here there be dragons” on the ground.

Cleo: I mean, isn’t that pretty much how you live your life anyway?

Joe (high pitched squealing): It kind of is. *laughing continues*

Cleo: You know. Here there be dragons— Sometimes it’s not dragons. Sometimes you might be lucky.

—

Joe: So, like, one thing you can do is after this project you can build tiny dollhouses. And create like a bedroom for each of your tools. And so the knife can just be in the knife room. In the dollhouse. And it can have a knife day.

SILENCE

Cleo: Umm…I’m gonna pretend like what you said made sense.

—

Cleo: I could have said something really nasty then, but I’m not going to. See? I’m growing as a person Joe.

—

Joe: You know what? Hold on, we’re gonna— we’re gonna— at the point where NJ is concerned about my caffeine intake, I’m gonna go get a red bull and I’m gonna take my headphones off before anybody can tell me otherwise, byeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Be right back!!!! *leaves*

Cleo (calling after him): Well done Joe! I believe in you! *narrating* She did not in fact believe in Joe, and was very concerned.

—

Cleo: I know when there’s a bad idea. It’s when Joe has made it. Joe has suggested it, that’s— that’s when you know it’s bad.

—

Joe: I know that there are ways to have computers automatically send invites, but that’s a good way, like, I know there’s a saying like, to error is human, but to screw up like a hundred thousand things all at once—

Cleo: That’s the Joe Hills Difference.

—

Cleo: Ugh, I feel like poop today.

Joe (genuine): I’m sorry.

Cleo (tiredly): No, that’s ok…(groggy) I’ll torment you…later…it’ll make me feel better…

Joe (equally as tired): Yay!

—

Joe (about Cleo and Xisuma): But Cleo, you’re the responsible adult in this scenario, so yeah you probably should have some answers.

Cleo: X is almost as old as I am.

SILENCE

Joe: …it’s a maturity gap?

Cleo: *laughing* Is that why I’m here with you?

Joe: …no.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: I say very confidently.

—

Joe (teacher voice): Quantum mechanics is a fundamental theory in physics that provides a description of the physical properties of nature at the scale of atoms and subatomic particles—

Cleo: *flipping him off*

Joe (blissfully unaware): Now classical physics! The collection of theories that existed before the advent of quantum mechanics—

Cleo: *trying to ignore him*

Joe (carrying on): Quantum mechanics differs from classical physics in that energy, momentum, angular momentum, and other quantities of a bound system are restricted to discreet values—

Cleo: *fingers drumming impatiently*

Joe (still going): Now! Quantum mechanics arose gradually from theories to explain observations which could not be reconciled with classical physics—

Cleo: *physically going through all 5 stages of grief*

Joe: (insert continuously long string of rambling science here)

Cleo: *mutes Joe*

—

Cleo (responding to her partner in chat): You have the movie poster for Dora the Explorer? Cam, I’m suddenly questioning our relationship now.

Joe: Uh oh.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: Yeah, I knew I was gonna get blamed for that eventually.

—

Cleo (frustrated): I’m gonna kill someone. And since the person who made and designed this castle isn’t here…(trailing off) Hi Joe.

Joe (accepted his fate): Hello.

—

Joe: Have you ever officiated a wedding?

Cleo: No I haven’t. Why, do you want me to?

—

Joe: Oh! Oh! I found my cross stitch the other day!

Cleo: Oh cool!

Joe: *rummaging in the background* Yeah, so, I don’t know if you’ve seen this before—

Cleo (excitedly): ShowMeShowMeShowMeShowMe!!!

—

Joe (reading chat): Am I excited for Minecraft Live? Umm…

SILENCE

Joe: You know, so much of life is minecraft, but you know, maybe this is just a step too far. You know? Um, I think Mojang asked if they could and never stopped to ask if they should. Um, you know, I think their decision in particular to clone dinosaurs at the event as part of their Jurrassic Park, uh, map thing that they put out— which, also, it’s not even like the Jurrassic Park movies are really for kids, but here’s— here’s Minecraft with Jurrassic Park in it, and also we’re gonna clone a bunch of dinosaurs for this livestream, it’s like *groaning*. I dunno. I’m dubious. I think it’s gonna backfire. Ya know, there’s like 4 cautionary films about why you don’t clone dinosaurs. And they’re just jumping in feet first. So…but, you know, I’d like to be wrong about this. Maybe it’ll go great.

Cleo: …are you having a moment Joe?

—

Cleo (reading chat): “when the arts and crafts streams become Cleo with a scream mask” I am not X. I am not X, I promise you I’m not X. I just don’t have a face.

Joe: Heh

Cleo: And if I was— hang on I’ll be back in a second.

Joe: …wait, did you just realize that you do have a scream mask?

Cleo: No, I have a better mask. *leaves*

SILENCE

Joe: *watching Cleo’s stream intensely*

—

Cleo: Are we seriously doing guillotine jokes right now? I’m not saying I disapprove, but

Joe: yeah, we say “Giatine”

Cleo: That’s ok, you can be wrong.

Joe: …It’s a french word.

Cleo: And? You’re allowed to be wrong.

Joe: …*deep sigh*

—

Joe: It’s funny too. Because people will tell me that I don’t seem like a very— like, mostly my coworkers. Like, would tell me that I didn’t seem like a particularly emotional person.

Cleo: *bursts out laughing*

—

Joe: Yeah, I feel like I didn’t make a lot of…visible progress today…but…it’s fine…

Cleo: I made progress for both of us Joe.

Joe (tiredly): Thank you Cleo… (resting head against the ring light)

SILENCE

Cleo (tenderly): …You’re welcome.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombiecleo #zombie cleo #joehills #joe hills

[xilamoc]

So we all know how in Season 3 Rikki is very protective of the secret and is very paranoid about it and sometimes even rude to other people about it the same way Emma was, well, I think I might have an explanation for that.

As we all know, Season 3 was not in the initial plan, and it came out 1 whole year after Season 2 and as such, the writers were left with a lot of time to self reflect on the product they created, the good, the bad and the ugly, by the time they started working on season 3, the writing team must've had identified some problems the show had in its first 2 seasons and clearly went in with the mindset to fix those problems, these include the mysogyny, the handling of women in science, and the one that's relevant today, Emma, I believe when the writers finished the show, they realized how bad they screwed up with Emma and I presume the first thing they did while writing Season 3 was give her a storyline where she could develop, once Claire Holt notified she wasn't coming back, Emma's storyline was most likely the only one that was complete (or in the process of being completed) so rather than undo all that hard work that took writing Emma, they just gave her storyline to Rikki, with that in mind, it's clear now why Rikki acts the way she does after S3E4, that's because its not her, its Emma's dialogue and soul that was put into Rikki, her whole arc in S3 seems to be about learning to be less bossy, because her bossiness seems to be self-destructive, a trait that wasn't in Rikki's character, but was in Emma's, they also gave Zane Ash's intended personality in S3 btw, and call me crazy but I think they gave Bella some of Rikki's original storyline, in "The Awakening" when Rikki and Will meet for the first time romantic music plays and Rikki seems to be attracted to him, which is evident by the fact she looks at Will with a smile on her face as she goes to Mako island, until Zane interrupts her, I think these are remains of Rikki's original storyline which was going to be her between two boys, these ended up being half slashed from her and the other boy (Will) was given to Bella, and the writers chose not only to give Rikki's Emma storyline, but to kind of fuse it with her older one but left all the romantic development to Bella, and kept most of the Jealousy and drama with Rikki.

As for Cleo, I think she was, like Emma and Rikki, written before Claire and Angus notified their departures, however, I think her arc was probably mostly the same in the original script, the only piece of information I have to somewhat back this up is the fact that Jonathan said in an interview that was posted here on tumblr not so long ago that Cleo's development was based on the way her actress is in real life, which I think it's true but I also think they wanted to use Cleo as a means of fixing the handling of women in science, given not only she was the main character of the ensemble, but Cleo herself shamed women in science in the past and was not good at it herself, which I think production saw that could give a very bad message to younger viewers and sought to fix it by developing Cleo into a science nerd, this storyline probably just had the minor rewrite in which Cleo doesn't have the help of Lewis in the second half of the season, which in my opinion works for the better, and helps her character unfold.

So In conclusion, when watching Season 3, try to View Rikki as Emma, Bella as Rikki, Zane as Ash, Will as Zane (I guess?) and Cleo and Lewis as... Well, Cleo and Lewis and you have yourself a much better story.

#h2o just add water #h2o season 3 #cleo sertori #rikki chadwick #emma gilbert #bella hartley #zane bennett #ash dove #lewis mccartney #will benjamin

[opera25]

Ope, I have known way too many computer science kids to believe that Etho wouldn't get himself into some weird scenario and walk away with a scar. Take it or leave it obviously but PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU:

Etho, who in this AU has canonically both fought a bear and almost blown himself up with fireworks, has a small (not as noticable as Last Life Etho's) scar below his left eye from just walking into an open refrigerator door

DECISIONS... DECISIONSS...... I do really like the idea of him have a small scar below his left eye and eyebrow! I think it's very cute and it's probably what I'd go for! Him getting a scar from Cleo is so funny to me, even if I won't draw it it will still ba canon in my heart <3

Now I feel like a hyprocite for saying I wanted Etho to be just Some Guy when the dude has natural white hair, faught bears as a child(it ended in a "draw" where he gave them bacons) and mess around with dangerous fireworks.

And Etho with heterochromia! I'm looking at that... I mean... In Bdubs' vision, Etho sometimes has that red eye already, if that counts haha- (I did get your second ask btw, mismatched eye guy! Don't worry about overlooking something okay :Dc it's very alright)

OH LOOK IT'S ETHO SLEEPWALKING ANON! There you are! Hmm I've thought about it, him seeing Bdubs' horrified face through blurry red vision is so cool to me??? Like ouch but also fuck, that's neat? Give me a little idea for some story progress ngl! ...Cause Etho's gonna have to remember the bad memories at one point.

#MLL #ope ask #conclusion: efo has a small horizontal scar under his left eye and another over his eyebrow thank you for the ideas!!

[archetypal-archivist]

Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone P.2

So, a little while back I wrote piece titled Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone (linked here) which was inspired by the works of @petrichormeraki and @redorich, who popularized the AU of Tommyinnit from the Dream SMP getting dropped into Hermitcraft somehow and summarily getting adopted by the entire server. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided “yes, but also angst” and spat out a solid 1500+ words with a cliffhanger at the end because it was getting ridiculous and I had yet more to write. This is another 1500+ words of continuation. 

-----

It's not easy, knowing things. Joe knows more things than most, and oh, how it eats at him sometimes. He jokes with Cleo that between the two of them and their dogs, they are perhaps the leading experts on being chewed on, but she never laughs at that joke. He can't help but wonder why, his thoughts drifting as he lies still and silent in her arms, curled up together on his bed in the winery. Her orange hair tickles his nose as he moves to bury his face in her shoulder a bit more, her cool breath ghosting over the sticky tear tracks that still line his cheeks. All the things that remain unsaid lie between them, but their silent agreement binds them together tighter still. And indeed silence is the name of the game, however much he wishes it wasn't necessary- everything will work out in due time, he knows. But oh, how it aches that he can't say anything more on the matter, not even to her.

"Cleo?" The zombie woman makes a soft inquiring noise, politely ignoring how his voice cracks on the syllables. "Are we doing the right thing?" Her grip tightens again, almost crushingly so, and Joe goes limp at the implied rebuke. Be it right or wrong, his silence must be ensured- he knows so much that if he said anything, it'd all come pouring out. A real modern-day Cassandra, verbal fountain and harbinger of doom in one. No, best to stay cryptic when he can and silent when he can't- and if even his silence fails, Cleo is there, sword in hand, ready to keep him quiet.

He should not take comfort from that. But here, wrapped up in his best friend's embrace, utterly at her mercy and all the safer for it... He does anyway.

-----

Joe and Cleo aren't in a romantic relationship, but it would not be amiss to call them platonic life partners in this universe. Joe has been seeing things for as long as he can remember, the exact mechanics are strange and baffling at best, and if he tries to actually do any Science to figure out how this stuff works, the magic changes to spite him. It's led to a lot of unfortunate visions of peanut butter and how the server generally tends to misuse the stuff (Etho sometimes using it instead of slime in a sticky piston is a milder example), so after enough peanut visions to make him allergic on principle, Joe tends to just let the visions come as they may. The only hard-coded bit that comes with them is that anyone living who hears his prophecies won't believe them and will have something bad happen to them as a result. Cleo, being a zombie, is a special exception to the rule. She's only alive in the most technical of senses, so while bad things still happen to her if she hears Joe speak about his experiences, she at least will believe him.

Which is why she is so determined to not know more about whatever is going on with Tommy. When Joe had rushed in a month ago, tears streaming down his cheeks and glasses barely hanging onto his face, she had merely put down the book she had been reading and had opened her arms wide to him. Convincing him that she would not betray his trust or break his heart had been hard, but she had known it was worth it. How can it be anything but, when Joe had looked at her then as if she was the most precious being on the planet and had immediately thrown himself into her arms, bursting out into troubled tears? He offered to tell her the full story, eyes wet and longing, and her long-dead heart ached at the trust he is giving her- but she is far too selfish to give that up. So she had turned him down, smile on her lips.

Even when he whispered, voice hoarse, that they wouldn't be seeing Tommy for a while. Even when he shuddered and shook in her arms, fragile as glass in her grip. Even when he begged her to ask, just ask, please, it's too much... She did not ask. If she asked, he would tell her, and then she would be hurt and his heart would break because it would be his words that had hurt her. She would not, cannot, will never inflict that upon him, or let him inflict that upon anyone else. (Of all the heads in her collection, the one she has most of is Joe's.)

She simply asks him if there will be a satisfying ending, and when he says yes, she asks no more. Everything will be okay, in the end. So long as there is that much, so long as she has Joe in her arms and the comfortable silence stretches out between them, then she will be content.

(At the foot of their bed, deep in Joe's winery where the barking is muffled and the light cannot touch them, there lies a chest of heads. Inside it, nestled among the many faces of the dead, rests an old iron sword bearing the name Hush. It's blade is rusty from disuse, but if Cleo ever decides that she isn't satisfied, well. There are ways of dealing with that.)

(Things will be okay. She'll make sure of it.)

-----

Philza was no stranger to death. A veteran of a hardcore world, where even the very earth was out to kill him, he had seen his fair share of deaths and had dealt out even more. Usually just to the local mobs and wildlife, but there was still the occasional player dropped into his world by the cruel hands of the Void as a sort of "apology" for leaving him alone, bereft of his sons. As if some random strangers could ever fill the Void in his heart.

Most of them had wandered off upon seeing him, more interested in escape than any companionship he could offer them, and he'd inevitably see their death messages in the otherwise silent chat a few days later. Others would approach him, some curious, some desperate for kindness- he gave them none, was often intentionally cruel just to drive them away. He had the Void in his heart and the Void had him, and he ached and ached for what he could not have. Anything less would be a pale imitation, a mockery of the love he was desperate to return to. He tried not to think about how those kind strangers would also come to meet their ends, often more messily than those that had decided to leave him be to begin with.

Then there were the rare few with... less than gentle intentions. (Blood for the Blood gods, no matter the universe.)

Theirs were the deaths he regretted the least, but the blood still gave him nightmares. For all that he loved his sons, he never understood their love for glory, be it found in conquering other nations or the sticky ooze of a dying foe. Maybe that's why he had spent so much of his time with his elder sons when he returned, the Void finally releasing him from his hardcore prison. Just a father's attempt at understanding, even if it left his youngest at loose ends.

But the problem with loose ends, he had come to find, is that the world had a way of setting them to rights- either by tying them back into the grand narrative, or by cutting them out entirely. For months after Dream had come to him, apology on his lips and charred shoe in hand, he had believed that Tommy's fate had been the latter. He had  mourned his son as if such was the case, weeping openly at the news for the first time in years. (He wasn't the only one, though- Technoblade was an only child now and he was not taking it well.) It was only when Tubbo came to him with his compass to ask about its ever-spinning needle that he felt a spark of hope, for a compass that spun was not a compass linked to a dead soul- simply a lost one. Such hope was justified when, six months later, Technoblade burst into his house with a snarl on his lips and a smile in his eyes. Tommy had returned.

And as Phil stood, back straightening and wings spread wide, hope bloomed in his chest like hanahaki, choking him with love right down to his core. Tommy had returned, despite everything.

And Philza would not let him go again.

-----

For all that Tommy might have been... gone for at least a month now on the Hermitcraft server and life has significantly slowed down for all involved, by no means has it stopped entirely. The shops are still stocked, the torches are replaced when the old ones burn out, Hermits still go out and see each other, if less often than before. Xisuma, in fact, instates a series of mandatory meetings every week or so as a way of making sure that everyone is still alive- a bit of reassurance that no one else has died in the time interim. Even the hermits who prefer to keep to themselves show up, such as Tinfoilchef, Joe, and Cleo, although the latter two remain distinctly separate from everyone else on the server during the meetings, their refusal to take a side alienating them from the rest. Grian, broken though he may be, also comes, usually in the arms of Iskall or with a vacant smile on his face depending on the state of his mental health on the given day. His presence is also alienating, as most of the hermits don't quite know what to say around him and thus will give him and Iskall a bubble of space to themselves during the meetings. Mumbo is the only one to cross the divide, standing loomingly tall at Iskall's back, as if daring anyone to say something potentially hurtful to either of his friends.

Frankly, the entire concept of weekly meetings is a bit of a mess. Xisuma stands at the front with Keralis at his back, voice and posture more and more tired with every meeting and Keralis standing just a bit closer, a silent show of support (ready if his admin ever needs some physical support too). The prognosis is usually a mix of dull stuff and hopeless stuff- lag is better than it has been in years, the Chestmonster shop is out again, Tommy still has not been... found. It's not exciting exactly, but the tension during the reporting stage is palpable as everyone waits to hear if something else has gone wrong. It's a bit like being on the front lines- horrible, drawn-out minutes of tedium as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if another bombshell will drop but knowing that they have to be there, because some warning is infinitely better than seeing a death message in chat one day and not knowing if that person will ever make it back.

In addition to this is the tension that comes from the server being split in three- the believers, the mourners, and those too damaged or too caught up in their own narratives or too neutral to swing to one side or the other.

The meetings are where the most near-fights happen, and Xisuma is so, so tired of having to be the sane one these days. (The benefit of a helmet, he's come to find, is that no one can see you cry.)

(He doesn't take it off much anymore.)

-----

It's after one such meeting that Zedaph finds himself cooped up in his base, eyes burning with unshed tears and feet dangling out into the Void as he sits at the bottom of the hole in his base, the one that goes straight to bedrock and then even further still. The chill is a welcome distraction from his own inner turmoil, and for all that it's dangerous to be sitting so near to the edge of the world, he can't find it in himself to move away form its cold comfort. After all, Tommy can't have died permanently, right? So sitting there is perfectly safe. He has to believe that. He has to.

The meetings are tough on everyone, but sometimes Zedaph wonders if they are a bit worse for him than they are for the rest. It can't be normal that the first thing he does after every meeting is burst into panicked tears as soon as he gets back to his base, as he's certainly never felt such deep fear and relief after the meetings they had before the Incident. And yet, as soon as the iron door of his base sncks shut behind him, he drops down into the Void hole, sits at the edge, and bawls his eyes out. It's kinda funny- he's shed more tears in the last month than he has in his entire life so far. And all for a boy he had known for less than a year.

During this particular day, however, something odd happens. When he sits down for a good cry, it feels like there's the slightest of breezes coming off the Void beneath his feet, chilling him right down to his bones. It's cold, yes, but a welcome relief as he feels a bit like he's burning up from the inside out. Every moment he spends with Tango and Impulse is stifling, as with them he has to shove himself into a hateful mold he never wanted for himself. He doesn't like being angry, and being angry alongside his best friends is hardly any better. If he had it his way, he would have curled up in bed and simply slept the horror away, only waking when the nightmare was over and he could go play mini golf and Among Us with Tango, Impulse, and Tommy again. Instead, his love for his friends demands that he supports them in all their endeavors, even if their goals these days seem to run a little closer to "get them all killed" than is comfortable.

But yes. The breeze. It feels like ice on his skin and sends every nerve in his legs buzzing. It has a distinct smell to it too, like TV static, ozone, and that sensation you get after you brush your teeth and go take a big gulp of cold water. It's... odd. But vaguely comforting. And as the tears finally well up in his eyes and drip down his cheeks, as he lets himself sob for all the friends- both new and old- he's lost, he finds that it's exactly what he needs.

And if Zedaph would only listen a little closer, let himself see beyond his broken heart, perhaps he would hear the whisper on the wind, too.

Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.

-----

Evil X has his own troubles to deal with. He had been present when Tommy had died, if watching from the wrong side of their dimension. Lost in the Void with nothing better to do, he had often found himself watching his friend go about his day. With space and time being as screwy as they were in the Void, he could find himself taking three steps and then would be watching Tommy go from sleeping over at BDub's base to having "breakfast" with Rendog. So when Grian and Tommy had gone out End-busting that fateful day, of course he had been watching.  And that was all he could do- watch- as he saw his best friend fall to his apparent death, that little line of code that signaled "perma-death" flashing once, twice, and then glowing a deep, ominous red.

But that wasn't the end of it, even as his dull and bruised heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.

Like a redstone pulse lighting up everything around it, that red glow set off a cascading chain reaction that rippled up and down Tommy's code until it eventually trailed out to wherever his code stretched out into the Void. There, it must have severed something because before he could even call for help, his friend's code yanked inwards and away, slingshotting the whole mess into the distant darkness beyond, leaving naught but a vague impression on the inside of his eyelids behind. It was... awful. One of the scariest things he had ever seen, perhaps second only to watching his brother, stern-faced and cold, send him off to the Void once again. But for all that it hurt to see that red glow and watch in mute horror as the server he had once tried to destroy shake itself apart at the seams, there was still hope.

The code was gone, yes, but not unraveled, not destroyed. Merely... transported. Moved. Like a file being sent from one computer to another, or a player teleporting between servers. Tommy's code vanishing like that was cause for alarm, yes, but somewhere out there in the vastness of the Void, it lingered still- and it had left a faint impression of itself in its wake. That meant there was hope.

Evil X- and by proxy, his twin Xisuma- were voidwalkers, beings specifically designed to see, understand, and even modify the world's code. Were he anything else, he surely would have perished by now, his consciousness scattered across the Void as it was. And having been in exile for so long, he had gotten to be adept at seeing the seams between worlds and reading the truths of existence as the Void had intended for her children. If anyone could follow that faint trail, could get Tommy back, it would be him.

For the first time in a long time, Evil X had hope. And hope is a vicious motivator indeed.

-----

TBC :)

#fanfiction #my writing #minecraft #dream smp #hermitcraft #hermit tommy au #heartstone #i'm pretty pleased with this