I kinda maybe put a lot of my OC plot tag lines on a Wheel and gave it a spin so outta 79 options, it landed on "Cellphone Justice" which is... these two.
Matthew "Skittles" Mouse and Daisy Eddington
Partners in justice (of sorts). They're basically vigilantes and their orders are simply text messages. They don't really know who their bosses are but they do as they are told.
Skittles is a very mediocre guy. Doesn't stand out. The most color he has in his wardrobe is blue jeans. He's amazingly asexual and has zero interest in romance regardless of intimacy and yet he gets partnered with Daisy. The gayest lady he has ever met. Great start. She enjoys calling him fun little nicknames but seeing as they're monitored closely (via cell phones/technology) she is scolded and told to pick a single one. So she does. She dubs him Skittles. The candy as gay as her.
The one thing they have in common is their number one weakness: cute girls.
Daisy turns into a stuttering MESS of a human being. A disaster. At the mere sight of a cute girl. Skittles on the other hand is TERRIFIED of them. When asked, he simply blames his life growing up. Daisy doesn't really push the matter just thinks it's a little weird to be scared of every single cute girl (no offense to the not being afraid of her taken).
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While he’d had Diluc’s Vision in his care, Kaeya often spoke to it. Updates on how things were going in Mondstadt, on Jean and the Knights, quiet admissions on how much he missed him and hoped he was alright. Demands he come back to Mond alive, if not for the family he’d discarded, if not for the Knights, then for those at the Dawn Winery at the very least. They missed him more than anyone.
Kaeya doubted Diluc could even hear them, but if there was a chance those words could reach him, that Diluc could somehow be reassured through whatever turmoil he was facing in that moment and given some burst of determination to succeed through the worst from them, Kaeya would still ensure not a day went by without speaking to the Vision, conversations scarcely more than two hours apart if he could help it. It was a childish, most likely vain hope, he knew. But nothing and no one, including himself, would ever have been able to curb the habit.
Anything to make sure that Vision never once dulled to emptiness.
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honestly, it's really interesting thinking about how the events of the desert dream in 1998 would get blown out of proportion in the coming years ; hell, it already kinda is twenty-four hours later. not only does the fbi get involved ( and they get involved quick ) but the entire thing is immediately labeled as 'the desert dream massacre' which is ... simply not true. if tyler doesn't kill joyce and michelle isn't shot then the total body count is four cops, with two on life support from the motel burning down. this is literally confirmed in game!
events get labeled as massacres if there's a huge body count, or if it's violent enough. the desert dream killings were neither. all the victims were shot, usually at a distance, or they suffered from burns ; which, while violent, it was more of an escape attempt on the holts' part than anything else. i also find it telling that, even if the holts kill a hostage or two, agent bradley doesn't bother mentioning that in private. all he cares about is the cops lost to the standoff. it's no surprise that killing an officer will get you a more severe punishment then if you kill a regular person, that it can sometimes send you straight to death row on its own, but the fact they don't even care about the deaths of any of the hostages ... it sure is something.
especially since the only hostage deaths in the desert dream can turn the only two kids in the game into orphans. or on the flip side, if the holts didn't harm a hostage, there's no mention of that either. or how the hostages were treated, which compared to usual hostage situations, they got it better than most. it's just the fact that they killed cops ( who were under the thumb of a corrupt sheriff, by the way ) that made this into a massacre. though i wouldn't be surprised if to the public the force would then heavily focus on any other victims, that's usually what happens normally, after all.
anyway, point is, classism does play a role in how cases and crimes are treated -- especially back then. the holts were poor, notoriously so, and they were a family full of drop-outs with nothing to their names. the very second they escape the motel, their names are plastered all over the country and their fates ( including jay's, who's merely an eighteen year old who was an accomplice at best ) are decided : they're going straight to death row. even if jay tries to do the right thing and come clean to agent bradley, tries to turn on his family, said guy immediately goes to pin all the murders on him, for seemingly no reason at all! it's very unjust, and ah ... shady!
the news and papers hype up their crime spree and i wouldn't be shocked that within a couple years, the holts would be presented as bloodthirsty rednecks who were simply greedy rather than a family that didn't have any help and got in way over their heads. the narrative would be twisted so much, especially if three of the holts were never found. there'd be no word from their side, no mention of the thugs who were threatening to kill them, just a true crime story where they were at the forefront of a very unfortunate situation and got away with it. leaving gossips to fill in the blanks as they please, and considering the police's and the fbi's behavior towards this case, they would only fuel the narrative that the holts were a family who did all this on purpose and relished in the aftermath, a family who loved doing the crime.
anyway, it's just something i love thinking about for post canon stuff when it comes to my adf muses. how wildly inaccurate the story's become in time, simply because people got bored or because of the classism back then that was so woven into the broadcasted crime that it's become impossible to separate the two. they'd paint the holts out to be wildly dangerous, cruel individuals and probably spin tales about unsolved murders and robberies and how it could be the work of a holt who had got away. their entire motivation would be obscured and would've gone unsaid, leaving random civilians and a force who hates them to speak for them instead. it'd be a whole thing! and the desert dream was dramatic, sure, but by the time everything is said and done you'd probably barely recognize what the media was talking about had you actually been there.
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“At least he doesn't drink” she exhales, with relief,
like she found the most beautiful pearl,
something she went on searching for —
to comprehend, make some sense
of the horrors forced upon her
each day by someone who promised to love
her for 7 lives,
beaten up, bruised like a corpse, she still hopes one day, it will all end — “God will knock in some sense.”
25 years of hell, she stayed for the kids she said.
Why a blind eye when the blue and black paint buckets were used on them?
Where's the blanket of comfort, the motherly love you think you posses?
“at least he doesn't drink” she celebrates.
For what I can not comprehend,
soothed — he knows what he did or
“thank god! he's not killing himself?”
I beg you again and again,
“grow a spine”, let's flee from this hell.
I can not tell when he’ll give me chocolates and when he’ll see me like a punching bag,
obsess over the movement of head as I gasp for air,
list every reason he has to muffle my scream with his bare hands.
Ask me to apologise for crying too loudly, “You’re ruining the family’s name”
The punisher, the judge and ultimate bearer of justice.
Please mum, at least look at me.
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