#he DOES kill that leaf 2 seconds after this image is taken | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heeytwelve · 4 years

Text

A mundanity that creeps into your very soul

Insidious Humdrum is he most intriguing and controversial character in Simon Snow books. It also one of the main characters of “Carry On” book, and, (as unpopular opinion) - he is still appears in “Wayward Son” - he mentioned by Simon, Agatha, Penny, Baz multiple times as nightmarish memories.

I believe Humdrum will make his appearance in third book and I want to dig on why he is so important in “Carry On” set and why Simon might be not quite done with him.

Humdrum is “official” antagonist of the first book, the prophesy which gave Simon “The Chosen One” title also implies that his only mission in life is to banish the Greatest Threat of World of Mages.

It’s important to notice that Simon himself is not really invested in fighting Humdrum, he strangely detached from his life mission:

“When the Humdrum comes after me, I fight him. When he sends dragons, I kill them. When you trick me into meeting a chimera, I go off. I don’t get to choose or plan. I just take it as it comes. And someday, something will catch me unawares or be too big to fight, but I’ll fight anyway. I’ll fight until I can’t anymore—what is there to think about?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” Think about it - he never create strategies, he never tries to understands what is it he tries to fight with, he never initiate the battle, he accepts battles, when he can’t avoid them. You’d think that he just escalate this part of job to The Mage, but then, (say to compare with HP) he doesn’t exactly bothers The Mage with questions or he doesn’t try to find out what Humdrum behaves like this and what is he plotting.

Oh, yes, plotting. See, we could say - you know, Simon is just like this, he’s quite passive, he hates to think or take action, but it’s untrue. Simon, in fact, has 3 antagonists: first one is Humdrum, which was given to him, second one is Mage (which as Voldemort in HP both created him and destroyed) and third is the only one antagonist he actually chose - Baz, the handsome vampire. Because Simon chose him (and Baz accepted). it is this antagonist he is really fighting and very passionate about: he thinks about his plotting every day, he cracks his secret/superpower, he finds his weakness and “defeats” him. Simon is capable of active fighting, thinking and strategising.

WHY Simon is so NOT invested in fighting Humdrum?

Let’s take a look at Humdrum and Simon, using Penny’s method, aka - what do we know, here I gathered a small table of data for these two:

So clearly, you can see that Humdrum is very unusual antagonist. Yes we can see that like in many pairs protagonist-antagonist there are a few opposite qualities of them, and it’s normal, it is trigger to fight dynamics. But at the same they are sort fig leaf to hide from Simon (or reader) who Humdrum really is. Humdrum - is Simon’s doppelgänger. And that is VERY important, let’s look at this from writer point of view, it is not your usual antagonist-just-a-person-who-have-opposite-beliefs-or-hates-you-for-some-reason. This antagonist is VERY attached to protagonist, he is in fact his continuation.

WHY would you want to write exactly this type of antagonist, what do you want to say?

I have multiple answers to go through.

1) To show Simon’s complexity. To show _protagonist_ complexity and somehow preserve the certain image of him. In “Carry On” Simon (at least for me as a reader) associated purely with soft and positive features, he is the definition of the good and kind hero. Yes, he’s impatient and short tempered, but he is empathic, he is thoughtful, he cares about most of the people around (he protect and shield his _chosen_ enemy, Baz. He won’t end him without second thought when he finally has opportunity - the scene in catacombs), he doesn’t hold grudges or avenge betrayal, he always tries to think above the things, see the whole picture, kinda look past himself. It is very high EQ and it is my dream character. But realistically for kid who had no one to raise him to love and understand people; with tough childhood - it is impossible to have no dark sides. Again, remember how annoyingly for reader neurotic HP would be in books? Well, guess what, his dark side is still in a book, it’s just detached from him, to not spoil his image for reader. Perhaps, because at this point (introducing the character) his dark sides are not allowed to make impression and they are not important YET. 2) To allow protagonist to do things he want to do, but can’t. This is “Jekyll and Hide” type of protagonist and yes, this is fair for Humdrum too. He destroys things and doesn’t feel bad about it. He “mundane” and again, he doesn’t feel bad about it. He doesn’t have to go to magic school and still - he is known, strong, dangerous. But most importantly - he can express his negative feelings. He is unhappy to be forgotten - he attracts attention (quite brutally); he is unhappy to be the only one who left to deal with trauma - he reminds about it - he summons Simon exactly at the place where bad things were happening (Lancashire) and he takes the form Simon probably tries to push away from his mind; he dislikes Mage - he talks to the Mage harsh and dismissively and laughing at him; the only people which Humdrum snatches/damages away from Simon are Agatha and Baz - it might be some sort of jealousy expression, and surely he express his jealousy about Simon’s skill and development. And IF he really hates the magic - he sure express his hatred good too, by literally destroying and he allows himself to feel pleasure from act of destruction (the face expression Simon never saw on his own face). And often, this reasoning for introducing doppelgänger goes with implying that protagonist has hidden desires to not be as good as he currently is. What doppelgänger does, it is what protagonist secretly desires to do.

To sum this these 2 points - they _usually_ lead us to the point that protagonist is not as good he thinks he is. And while it is partly true - I believe, it is NOT Humdrum purpose.

3) While Humdrum is surely threat to magic, is he Simon’s antagonist, really? Does he hates Simon? Do his actions have purpose to destroy what Simon have/created? It is a big no, to all these questions.

Humdrum is metaphor for Simon’s trauma, he tries to shove away from himself.

Many people talk about Humdrum in the book, but most informative are - Penny, Mage and Baz, Simon and Humdrum himself.

Penny, I believe, is an author’s reflection in the book, so her words are clues), and she tell us - that Humdrum face is his real face (he is Simon), he’s childish and Simon’s dealing with negative emotions frustration/fear/annoyance/going off brings him joy (genuine childish laugh). She also tell Simon, the reason why he have to fight Humdrum - cause he the only one who can (and have to) do it. Which is true. Mage - who is the real Simon’s antagonist and evil in the book - is the one who setups the reality “Humdrum is evil, you have to fight it”. Which can be easily translated to “Your feelings/experiences are not valid, you have to get rid of them”. He also setups example of not being important as a person, but being important as a weapon, to sharp your blade constantly if you wish.

“Look at me, Simon. Have you ever known me to indulge myself with a normal life? Where is my wife? My children? Where’s my house in the country with my cosy chair and a fat cocker spaniel to bring me my slippers? When do I go on holiday? When do I take a break? When do I do anything other than prepare for the battle ahead?

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

Again - it translates to these old methods of dealing with trauma: fight it, ignore it, experience more trauma to make yourself numb. It doesn’t work. Mage doesn’t care about Simon. But in a way, Simon follows his instructions.

Baz - he is the symbol of healing love Simon needs (one of his defining quotes is “I chose you” - returning Simon everything what was taken away by Mage at that point) he have experienced Humdrum only one time, but it’s enough for him to figure it out precisely. He understands that Humdrum is Simon (or his part) and he does not hesitate to confront Simon with it, because it is important. And he the one who tell Simon the aftermath of ignoring Humdrum. Baz is the one who - finally - triggers Simon to act. He also the first character who sees Simon (and Humdrum) and accepts them as whole. And still loves him. Simon - he doesn’t talk about nature of Humdrum a lot. He hardly bothers to describe fighting scenes in a past. But he clearly indicates how he avoids Humdrum, thinking about Humdrum, thinking about time he will need to deal with it. He doesn’t want to have any touch points with it, even when he’s confronted about it. He shouts at Humdrum when he sees his own face on him, but he never thinks that Humdrum is him. Because it’s all painful. Humdrum - is pain he released and locked himself out of it. That is why he reluctant to deal with Humdrum, though it his life mission. He only do it if he have HAVE TO. And then - he will take the pain/fear/negatives and lock it in Humdrum again (make magic holes bigger) and leave. So he can stop thinking about him again. And finally, Humdrum. He thinks a lot, he has time for it. And he know exactly who he is. And when Simon is ready, when Simon’s is finally ready to face him by his own will, he tells him who he is:

“It’s the Humdrum,” I say. “It’s you on the day I found you.” His eyes are wide and soft. “My boy—” “I’m not him,” the Humdrum says. “I’m not anybody’s boy.” “You’re my shadow,” I say to the Humdrum. I’m not afraid of him now. “More like an exit wound,” he says. “Or an exhaust trail—I’ve had loads of time to think about it.” “The Insidious Humdrum,” the Mage whispers. “It’s a crap name,” the Humdrum says, bouncing his ball. “Did you come up with it?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

He is willing to talk about himself and all this scene he is strongly communicating on Simon’s side, but not on Mage’s. He behaves like he is Simon’s ally and they have the same goal. He’s open about his wishes (to evolve, to be like Simon, to be the one with Simon), he is open about what happens if Simon’s continued to follow the Mage’s instructions ( “He’s right. End everything. All of the magic.”).

The scene of dealing with Humdrum doesn’t feel like Humdrum eliminating, but more like becoming one with him, finally accepting what was shoved away, belated debts payment. It is very sad but beautiful scene.

“I’m sorry that all the good stuff happened after I left you.”

“The Humdrum puts his hands over mine and gives me a small nod. His jaw is set, and his eyes are flinty. He looks like a little thug, even now. I nod back. I give it all to him. I let it all go.”

At the end - Humdrum and Simon became one, like it was before Simon first went off and got his magic at 11 year. Now he back to the same state and next book he is dealing with trauma (not the way he should, unfortunately).

Maybe the key of getting powers back is to learn how to live with Humdrum and not ignore him. To accept yourself, to find yourself. Maybe use Humdrum powers too. “Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”

p.s. The negative power of sucking off magic reminded me about Dementors in HP a bit, in a way, that’s what made me think about Humdrum as trauma or depression. At the same time, sometimes, Humdrum would show us, that he is still a doppelgänger of Simon’s and have the same thoughts - like his phrase about “it’s it better than fighting” about Baz is quite the same as Simon’s.

#humdrum #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #the mage #penny bunce #penelope bunce #the insidious humdrum #wayward son #my texts #carry on meta #simon snow meta #humdrum meta

98 notes · View notes

wildflower-alex · 4 years

Text

The Job (CH) part 3

As a request, there’s the third part and I kinda feel like I should’ve started a mini series, still evaluating the option, though (thanks @dirty--heart xo)

Note: as many of us do the same, meaning writing about us with other person, you will slowly get to know my personality and behavior. It feels more personal and real if I expose true feelings and traits, knowing I’m not the only one who feels this way, plus it makes more sense to explore a mind-body relation and to actually write about it, rather than keeping a flumsy, incoherent attitude of the characters.

Still, I’m not the greatest writer because English isn’t my first language and after a pause of maybe 5 years of not writing it’s kinda hard now.

Part 1 and 2 here and here

She stood up and put the clothes back as a sudden feeling of guilt reached her brain. Her eyes sneaked a peak at his body while he was slowly pulling up his boxers. He truly was a heartthrob, his buff body making him look like a Norse God, way too hot. She felt confused as she realized they had to talk, but about what? Who should say what? What would she answer? And after all, what are they as of now? She unthinkingly sighed at the thought, making him look up at her.

“What?” he asked and she could sense his confusion.

As she realized the gesture, she jokingly said “Nothing” and actually meaning that, because nobody could clear up her min, only her by thinking everything through and analyzing every aspect, gesture, sound and look he threw her.

He too felt this pressure, of not knowing what to say next. Yet he used his hunger to make a conversation with her.

“Listen, I thought maybe I should... buy you some food?”

“You mean... paying for the services?” she said and instantly regretted it, punishing herself inside her mind for ever saying that.

“God, no! Please, stop being sarcastic... I really meant it... but if you don’t want to...” he replied with a slow sorrow in his tone.

“I’m sorry, I... that’s how I deal with... nevermind, sure, let’s grab something to eat” she said, trying to break the barrier between them. She had enormous anxiety problems and her defense system was sarcasm and expecting the worse, only for her brain to cope with the presumed failure. Continuous traumas reflected on her daily tasks and she was trying to let go of that killing feeling she constantly had and she hardly had a day without feeling so heavy. These thoughts would never leave her mind for the whole day.

“Ok, well... I know a restaurant that has great carbonara I know you’ll love” he replied.

“Oh, wow, I’d love to eat some, they’re my favorite” she smiled at him.

“I know, you’re always talking about it” he chuckled, showing off his puffy cheeks and that bright, warm smile of his.

The ride was short, taking only a few minutes to get to the restaurant. Even so, he tried to talk to her, but they both seemed awkward to actually say something relevant. Instead, he took her hand while driving and placed a kiss on it, making her blush at the new feeling. She took a look at his face, his face turning to look at her too and they both shyly smiled, just like two kids.

“I meant everything I said” his voice broke the silence. She never stopped looking at him, only to lean forward and kiss his hand, too.

Arriving at the restaurant, the scene was pretty poetic. The floors were imitating the Italian pavements, with tall black lamps at every table, green leaf plants covering the walls and giving the place an allure of forest. Only a few tables were taken, people being more engaged in conversations, rather than looking at them. She felt a relief knowing that they actually did not know who he was. Fame was pretty rough and she saw that reflecting on their lives.

After both ordered the food he rested his chin in the fists, making his cheeks to look even fuller than before.

“So... for how long?” he asked.

She looked confused, but understood his question after one second.

“Let’s say enough time” she replied. The shame she felt that moment could make people deaf if it had a voice. Realizing she could distract the attention from her, he continued.

“I thought you were talking to someone”

“Well” he started and remembered the girl she was talking about. “You know, they’re all the same. I felt she needed validation, maybe even a little fame and I let it dissipate”

“They all want that now. Hell, everyone wants that from time to time, let’s be real” she said, really meaning it.

“So you’d like to be famous?” he asked.

“Sometimes” she replied and took a sip from the soda the waiter just brought. “And sometimes I want to be invisible and know nothing about anything” she added, making him to raise his eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that, my minds is complicated”

“I can tell that. So... now what?”

“Now... I don’t know, you name it” she tried to dissimulate, not knowing what to say or to make a fool of herself.

“I mean... we’re working together”

So that was the problem. She instantly took her defensive coat, repelling everything he said.

“I know, that could be a problem. I mean, we can play it cool and pretend”

“Pretend... Yeah, but for how long?”

“I don’t know, until either one of us gets tired of it and I resign” she said.

Her seriousness scared him, what was this all about? He felt attacked and frankly, misunderstood.

“Wait, are we talking about the same thing?” he asked, now his torso stuck to the chair.

“Yeah, it happened once and I’ll try not to make a fuss out of it”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he almost screamed.

“For fuck’s sake, Calum, I know you’re regretting it, don’t continue to shove it in my face, for real”

“The fuck...”

“It’s shameful enough, for real, play it cool” she continued, not paying attention to his expression.

“Are you you serious? Like, dead serious?” he furiously asked, now his arms crossed on his chest.

The music started playing louder and she could hear Beyonce’s “Drunk in Love” play the chorus of it.

“This fucking song” she mumbled under her breath, only to herself, remembering the times she played the song while masturbating with his image in her mind.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing” she replied and slowly made up her response in her mind. “I know you don’t want anything to do with me, other that doing my job and bursting your ego. I just wish that...” she paused, nodding her head from side to side, a regret showing in her eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare to finish that” he fumbled. “Babe, what the fuck?” he said, now his voice softer than even and he leaned to take her hands in his.

“Don’t use such words, we’re not babes” she quietly continued.

“Let me get this clear, you don’t want to start... anything? With me, I mean...”

“I just...”

“Be real. Forget about your mind tricking you. Say it”

She paused, now tears streaming on her face, tears of frustration she couldn’t speak her truth, frustration she couldn’t put words into how she felt, frustration on her anxiety and punishing herself in her mind. She quickly wiped them away, realizing how pathetic she looked.

“Babygirl...” he said. He knew she couldn’t speak and as he looked at her he almost felt angry that such a beautiful soul, inside and out, could have such a defensive system. “Hey” he continued and took her chin between his fingers. “I would like to start something new with you”.

Unfortunately for him, her mind transformed that into a total rejection.

“Love...” he continued and saw she did not change her position, clenched in her chair. He got up and knelt by her side, turning around the chair, so that she could see him. “I promise I’ll be here everytime you’ll need me to speak for you. Please, look at me for a bit”

She finally looked at his eyes, now his tearing up, too.

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to behave around you, I promise I’ll do my best” he continued.

She shyly smiled, stroking his big palms and feeling the weight from her chest being lifted off. “I’m sorry” she finally said.

“Don’t you worry, it’s my fault, too. I know I’m not the greatest talker” he replied.

“I would like it, too” she added, making his form a big smile on his face. They both started giggling, his hands never leaving hers, slowly stroking her knuckles and looking into her eyes.

She was staring at him, seeing a new part of him, one she never encountered before.

“I know it’s already the third, but I also promise there will be less and less days like this. I mean... only the bad part, and more of the previous, you know” he chuckled as she started to laugh loud enough for the people around them to look at them.

“Can you believe we did it in the living room?” he finally chuckled and a burst of laugh left his chest.

She never stopped laughing, but this one made her laugh harder than before.

“I bet...” he started, but his laugh stopped him. “I bet Luke’s gonna be like <<oyy does it smell like dick in here?>> I swear!” he laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye.

He realized how good of a woman she was, even though she had a lot of work to do regarding her mental health, he understood her and liked her even more. Brains always were his favorite.

Part 1 and 2 here and here

38 notes · View notes

queeniewriteshockey · 5 years

Text

Dessert|| Part I|| T. Teravainen + Reader

Requested: No... Just me and my new obsession hanging out Word Count: 1,861 Warning: None - just fluff and more to come.

Part II Part III

The wall is cold against your skin as you lean into it. The earbuds in your ear all but drown out all of the sounds coming from inside the arena. Before, you could hear the other team practicing, now it was more background noise than anything. The scrape of the ice under freshly sharpened blades is a sound you've always enjoyed, even when the team isn't one you work for. The thwack of the pucks hitting the boards and the glass are music to your ears, but you felt a little out of place, standing around listing to the opponent as they practiced.

The game wasn't for several more hours, but you were at the arena to let them in and to be on-site should there be anything they need. That was part of your job description. It wasn't a bad job, truthfully. You really liked what you did. You liked the team you worked for and the perks that came with the job. Some of those perks were getting to interact with teams you grew up watching and loving. You didn't always get to see the games, too busy running around making sure everything was going off without a hitch, but still, you had fun. It was a production and you were the director.

The screen of your phone flashes with images while you watched a game broadcasting from the east coast, it's nearly over, halfway through the third and not going the way you wanted it to. That wasn't the point, though. At least you get to watch a few hockey games while wandering around your arena, it wasn't like you were actually needed. You were simply there as an in case of an emergency kind of thing.

This was your routine when there was a home game. Let the team in, hangout until their practice was done, busying yourself with your work or hanging out in your office watching a game from across the country if there was one on. You didn't typically chill on the concourse or down in the locker area, only because it was hard to get signal. That and you didn't want to be accused of spying on the other team. Not that that was a thing, but you always worried. Some teams got a bit touchy about the opposition seeing them practice before the game.

It made your eyes roll, but you supposed you could understand it. You hadn't made it very far down the tunnel before you'd gotten distracted by the game you'd called up to watch. It was hard not to get sucked into a hockey game, and the fact that somehow your cell signal had no trouble through all the cement this time made it easy for you to pause and just... watch the game.

You're so plugged into the game blaring in your ears, you don't even notice the sounds on the ice have ceased. Perhaps you have the volume up too loud, perhaps you're too focused on the high-speed plays you're watching and the heart racing commentary that's being screamed into your ears. Whatever it is, you practically jump out of your skin when something, someone, taps you on the shoulder. You know you screamed, but you could barely hear it until you plucked the earbuds from your ears.

You heart races as you whirl around, mind screaming at you, make up wild scenarios, all not even remotely possible where you are. Overreact much? It takes more seconds than you would like to admit for the image of the person in front of you to catch up to your brain and you recognize that someone from the other team is standing in front of you.

He's tall on his skates and you have to look up to fully understand who you're looking at, it's not just a practice jersey with the eye of a storm in the center. His face is unobstructed by the helmet you're so used to seeing players wear, though the red line across his forehead tells you it's only recently been removed. His blonde hair is slick with sweat and pushed back from his face. It's not just any player from the opposing team, you know who you're staring at - Teuvo Teravainen. You do your best to feign indifference as your heart starts to race for another reason. You may or may not have a few of his jerseys in your collection of hockey memorabilia. You weren't about to fess up to the truth.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he says just before his lips press into a thin line and his bright blue eyes dip down at the corners. The apology is as clear as the eyes that look at you. His accent is thick but it's smooth and his words are honest.

"You didn't," you lie. It's a lie neither of you believes if the skeptical look that's being reflected at you through those blue eyes was anything to go by. Even if you hadn't done your best imitation of a damsel about to be killed in the latest cheesy horror flick, your pulse was moving faster than a hockey puck shot across the ice. "Okay, maybe you did... A little. That's what I get for not paying attention."

You stuff the phone in your team hoodie pocket, the earbuds following suit. You're technically out of uniform for your line of work but at this moment you hardly care. It's early and cold down in the tunnel. The sweatshirt covers your suit pants and blouse making you look like a strange mashup of a professional and a straight-up hockey fan.

"What can I help you with?" You ask in your most professional voice. You do your best to ignore the heat that's started to creep up your neck as the embarrassment of the situation finally settles between your shoulder blades. First impressions are always something you pride yourself on, this was not an impression you wanted to leave on anyone, let alone this someone.

"I, uh," his lips press together again, a habit you've noticed throughout the games you've watched, he does when he's looking for a word in a language still very much foreign to him. "The puck broke the glass."

A smile spreads across your lips wide enough that your eyes crinkle at the corners and your top teeth bite softly into your bottom lip. "Oh, that's exciting!" You tell him honestly. It's a pain in the ass, as everyone knows, but it always gave you a weird rush of joy to see that happen. "Did you break it or was it someone else on the team?" It's not meant as a tease, more wondering who you should be impressed with, but you're pretty sure he thinks you're teasing him if the blush that creeps over his pale cheeks is anything to go by.

"I did it," he admits, "I'm sorry." And he truly looks it.

You do your best to wave off the apology, truly there is nothing to be sorry for. It's a piece of glass being hit with hard rubber biscuits at speeds that cops would pull drivers over for. It's a wonder more glass doesn't break. "I can get maintenance to get that fixed right up, don't even worry about it. Give me a few minutes, yeah?"

"Thank you," he says, his smile matching yours. It's the first smile you've seen from him since he walked up and scared the shit out of you. He's got a nice smile, you think, though not for the first time. "And uh, I'm sorry for scaring you, honestly"

Your smile softens almost instantly and you feel the warmth of a blush creep up again. "It's fine, seriously. You're not nearly as scary as the game I was watching."

"What game?" He asks because of course, he has to ask.

"Uh," you say, top teeth worrying into your bottom lip. "Just, an eastern conference game. I'm from back east so... I try to keep up with the teams."

"Who were you rooting for?" He asks, clearly still interested in what you were watching.

"Not the team that was winning," you say honestly.

"Who was losing?" He knows you're dancing around the answers, likely sure you're trying not to admit that you root for a team that wasn't the one you worked for.

You sigh softly and pull your phone out of your pocket and open the screen. The score is 3-2 Flyers over Maple Leafs and you gasp. "Holy shit," you say staring at the score, "they won! You made me miss it!" You turn your phone around to show him the score, but you're kind of laughing. Of fucking course, your shit team finds a way to pull a win out of their ass when you aren't watching.

"I'm very sorry," he says again. It's the second or third time he's apologized to you in the span of the maybe ten minutes the two of you have been standing there talking. He didn't make you miss it, even if he kind of did. You'd missed most of the game before you'd tuned in anyway. "You should let me make it up to you."

Your laugh dies softly on your lips and your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline. "Oh yeah?" you say, a smirk growing at the corning of your lips, "How do you plan on doing that?"

"Dessert" he offers, "after the game, perhaps. As an apology for bothering you."

He hadn't bothered you, not really, but you're certainly not going to say no to a sweet treat. "Yeah, okay. I mean," you roll your eyes a little, the smirk on your lips growing, "it's the least you can do. It's not every day the Flyers actually win and I did miss it because of you." You're joking. The grin on your lips tells him so. It's kind of fun being playful with a member of your team's opposition.

"That's very true. Winning isn't what they're known for," he says with a laugh. If others had said that, it would have needled you, but it didn't bother you coming from him, not when coupled with the dimples on his cheek and the light shining from his eyes.

"Let me go get maintenance to fix the glass and we can finalize our plans, yeah? I know just the place you can take me." Your grin is big and bright, you don't even bother trying to hide your pleasure at the turn the conversation had taken.

"Sure! Oh, I'm Teuvo, by the way," he says extending his hand out to you.

"I know," you tell him with a smile, "I'm Y/N. I'll be right back."

It takes you a moment to excuse yourself from his gaze but once you have, you're on your way to locating Chuck, your resident handyman. He'll be able to fix the glass and get the rink back to snuff so that the rest of the Hurricanes practice can continue without a hitch. If you're a little distracted by the idea of going to dinner with Teuvo, well, no one needs to know that, right?

#teuvo teravainen imagine #nhl imagine #carolina hurricanes imagine

65 notes · View notes

highbuttonsports · 3 years

Text

Calgary vs Ottawa (2021) flames senators - Bing images

Resilience

Like a bad Vietnam flashback, the Calgary Flames must have been sitting in the dressing room with pools of sweat on floor wondering what just happened after Thursday nights game against the Ottawa Senators. Things couldn’t have gone much worse on a night where optimism was trending up coming into it. After taking 3 of a possible 4 points to the division leading Maple Leafs the previous 2 games in Toronto, the Flames were feeling good about the direction their game was heading. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect couple games by any means but given what transpired Saturday night against the Edmonton Oilers it was a huge improvement. The Oilers took it to the Flames to a tune of 7-1 and handed them, what at the time was thought to be, their worst loss of the season. That loss left everyone frustrated and wondering how to move forward. Well, they answered that by going into Toronto and shutting out the high-powered Leafs 3-0 behind the stellar goaltending of David Rittich. Big Save Dave was pressed into action after starter Jacob Markstrom couldn’t play due to an upper body injury. That remained the case the following game against Toronto, as Rittich and the Flames would try to carry that momentum into it.

Like the previous game, Calgary’s game plan appeared to be focussed on using tight defence to manufacture offence in transition. It was just as successful as they minimized scoring chances even while having to kill too many penalties. A problem they had all season as they have been short handed the 3rd most times in the league. Thanks to a PK that is operating at 80% (13th in the NHL), they were able to kill all 4 Toronto powerplays. That made for 11 straight successful PK’s against them which usually isn’t a good recipe for success especially when facing the 4th best PP. Of course, to have a good PK it usually comes down to the goaltending. Rittich once again closed the door on everything the Leafs threw at him. The Maple Leafs fired 39 shots and he was up to the task on all of them...almost. David was a minute and a half away from his 2nd consecutive shut out versus them when it all fell apart. With a 1-0 lead on a late period Mangiapane goal, Toronto pulled their goalie for an extra attacker. It almost backfired, but half a puck width is what stood between them and a 2-goal victory. The puck hit the post of an empty net and stayed out giving the Leafs hope. That unfortunate event turned into a game tying goal by William Nylander and forced overtime. It was Willy who scored again and won it in the extra frame for Toronto. That was such a disappointing way to end what was a successful 2 games to build off of. Sometimes those losses hurt more than the blowouts because the team was so close to winning. It can truly feel like something was taken from them or they let it slip away. The key is to not dwell on that missed opportunity and instead focus on all the positives that lead to being so close to victory.

Well, maybe the Flames took the sting of that loss with them to Ottawa the following night. In what can only be described as the worst loss of the season, the whole team decided not to show up for the game. At least that’s what it looked like. They seemed to get beat to every loose puck, lose every puck battle, and couldn’t generate any offence whatsoever. Every time they entered the offensive zone they were pressed to boards and unable to get any separation for a meaningful shot. Even David Rittich couldn’t bail them out as he was forced into playing back-to-back games with Markstrom missing another game. On top of that, all the same issues that plagued Calgary before popped up again. They started slow in finding themselves down 2-0 less than 10 minutes into the game as the Sens scored goals in 1:42. The Flames were yet again playing catch up facing a 1st intermission deficit. The shots on goal heavily favoured the Sens too as they held a 13-5 advantage. It was an awful start against what was suppose to be an inferior opponent that struggles to score. Ottawa is 24th in the NHL in goals for per game at 2.59 while they are the worst at giving up goals at 3.86/game. Calgary is actually worse at scoring coming in at 2.44 goals/game. Yet in the views of the hockey world, they are supposed to be the team more poised for success right now. There they were playing comeback hockey though. The Flames came out better to start the 2nd period, with Lucic scoring 1:41 into the period. It was his 1st goal in 9 games as he continues to drag that $5.25 million cap hit around with him. That put them back in the game, but it was short lived. 3 minutes later Lucic got stripped of the puck by Connor Brown to make it a 2-goal hole again. In fact, Lucic was responsible for giving the puck away on all 3 Ottawa goals. That doesn’t take any blame away from the listless effort of the whole team though. At the halfway mark of the game, they had only 6 SOG! It doesn’t matter how many goals the other team scores if you aren’t going to put any pressure on the opposing goalie. Things went from bad to worse from that moment on. The Sens took a 4-1 lead on what appeared to be a shoot in from just over center ice by Erik Brannstrom. At least that’s what Rittich thought. He tried cheating behind the net to intercept it, only to be fooled with a direct shot on net that he was unable to scramble back into position to stop. That was an ugly was the end an ugly night for him. After a coach’s timeout and then a t.v. timeout, Coach Ward mercifully pulled the frustrated tender. After 2 stellar performances Rittich was unable to make up for all the short comings of the team on this night. It was obvious he didn’t take that lightly either, as he could be seen walking down the tunnel towards the dressing room and smashing his stick. That about summed up the mood of the team and any fan watching this debacle. The only positive from this game is back up goalie Artyom Zagidulin got to see his 1st career NHL action. It’s not how he wanted to see it I am sure, but a nice moment for him regardless. He did give up a couple more goals to make it a 6-1 final, but by that point the game was out of hand anyways. Yes, the goaltending was bad giving up 6 goals on 31 shots but there was enough blame to go around. From the goaltending to the D to the forwards, there just wasn’t enough compete all around. There wasn’t any intensity either in what was billed as the meeting of the Tkachuk brothers. The game featured no penalties, which is a rarity in the modern NHL where penalties are assessed for the simple placing of a stick against the arm of the puck carrier. Maybe that’s exactly how Ottawa wanted to play it. Maybe it was the result of the Flames playing their 3rd game in 4 nights. Maybe they took the Senators for granted. Maybe it was just one of those games. Regardless, how they would answer that performance the next game would show what this team really is all about. If they came out flat once again and lost, the vultures would start circling.

It’s odd to say that after 21 games the Flames were at a point where the next game could decide how the next 35 would go, but here they were. Coming off their worst loss of the season, it was about character and resilience. It was about showing the fight the team had left in it. It would be easy to roll over and feel sorry for themselves. It would be easy to look at the standings and see the gap between them and the top as insurmountable. That’s not what a team with the leadership of captain Mark Giordano and Matthew Tkachuk does though. With 3 of the next 4 against the same Sens an opportunity still presented itself to pile up some points and jump back into a playoff spot. The team ahead of them, in the Montreal Canadiens, was having their own set of problems. There was still plenty of time to turn things around and cause havoc in the divisional hierarchy. However, that had to start the next game.

In Ottawa and without top netminder Jacob Markstrom for a 4th straight game, that would be a challenge. They brought him in for situations just like this. To be the guy to stop the bleeding and right a struggling team. With him out, it’s a lot to ask of backup Rittich to be that guy for long stretches. Even though he had shown back in Toronto he could do it, the team needed to come together. As well, Coach Ward decided to shake the lines up to give the players a fresh look and feel. He moved Lindholm from center to the right side of Monahan and Gaudreau. Backlund moved up to the second line between Tkachuk and Mangiapane. And Same Bennett was moved back to his more natural center position with Lucic and Dube. Those moves paid quick dividends as less than 5 mins into the game it was 2-0. They scored those 2 goals in a span of 37 seconds on the backs of goals from Valamaki (1st of the season) and Backlund. That was just the start they needed to gain confidence and quickly put the doubts seeded from last game behind them. They didn’t let up either, extending their lead to 3-1 after 1 period and a 6-2 lead after 2 periods. The newly formed Tkachuk-Backlund-Mangiapane seen this biggest boost in accounting for half of the goals and 7 points between them. With that type of offensive explosion, I expect these lines will carry forward to the next few games at least. The game was never in doubt from the drop of the puck, but even so Rittich was good when he had to be in stopping 31 of 34 shots. There is hope that Markstrom will be back for Mondays rematch the Ottawa, but if not Rittich will certainly be back between the pipes for a fifth straight start.

So, at .500 and 1 point behind the struggling Canadiens, Calgary would love nothing more than to end their 5-game eastern road trip with another win. That would give them a 7 of a possible 10 points on the trip, turning what was a low mark 6-1 loss during it into a success. Such is the highs and lows of an NHL season. The key is not to get too high on the highs and too low on the lows. It is critical for a team to remain even keeled. If they don’t it can unravel pretty quick and a couple losses can turn into a half dozen. Those types of losing streaks must be avoided in a season where the standings can swing dramatically one way or the other. Much like the way the outlook of this Flames team swung from Thursday to Sunday. Where in the former all seemed lost, now in the latter resilience and hope spring forward.

*all stats provided by NHL.com

By: Jaymee Kitchenham

#hockey #nhl news #sports #calgary flames

0 notes

specialsituationsgroup · 3 years

Text

A study of Discworld

Color of magic, pt 2

Last time I was gushing. This one will be a bit more critical.

Another covert info-dump. An ingenious description of Ankh morpork, told through the advancing fire. The colors of the flame in Unseen university, the vat exploxions in merchant street, the fragrant insence in the perfume makers and the halucinations at the apothecary. The weathy side demolishing bridges to stop its advance, as wind carries sparks and burning ships across the river.

It's briliant.

Rincewind and Twoflower escape a bruning Ankh Morpork and run into two highwaymen, your typical barbarian and rouge. We see the meeting throgh the perspective of the highwaymen. You get a good feel for them very quickly. Unfortinetely, they are the first of many throwaway characters. The two beggars, the mob boss and his second in comand etc etc. Everyone, even people mentioned biefly in passing, are named. And so those details that made the world lived in start feeling excessive. An overload of minutia.

The prose has hickups in places. Like the description of the rouge:

"Later, when he has ocasion to move, it will be seen that he moves lightly, cat-like."

So, the way the rouge moves is described before he moves, and later when he does move it is not described at all.

It's as if Terry came up with this image, loved it, and dropped it in as soon as he could, not where it would best fit. But he will repurpose this metaphor for teen-Vetinari. XD

A milder hickup is here:

"He leafed trough the book he had taken from his pouch."

I imagined him fliping through the pages, then had to pause, rewind and replay the scene to include the taking-from-the-pouch. It should flow smootly. Maybe this is just prefference. :-/

Rincewind starts telling how his adventure started, except the flashback starts before Rincewind met Twoflower. But it’s not jarring as you read it.

Twoflower arrives At Ankh-Morpork. Again we meet him through other characters. Terry obviously had a lot of fun making all of them up, unfortunately, they're throwaway, and they're all assholes.

I realy don't like Ankh-Morpork here. Everyone in it is an asshole. In Gurads Gurads, there is a heart of gold under Colon's lazy cowardice and Nobby's petty theft. There was a dissapointed idealism at the bottom of Sam's alcoholism.

Here, everyone is an asshole to everyone else. Yes, this is a city of thieves parody, but the closest thing to humor is a bunch of passers-by enjoying a beggar's embarrasment. When another beggar figures out that his coleague will be killed, he is sad not for the man, but for the money the man owes him that he will not get.

I don't care that this city will burn down in a couple of days, they deserve it.

One entire scene of the flashback is a tangent. Neither Twoflower not Rincewind whitness it. Again, it’s not jaring when you read it, but cumulatively it starts dragging on the story.

Notes:

I could not help compare Twoflower's arrival in Ankh-Morpork to Carrots.

First, we see Carrots arrival through his own eyes. His explicit good natured naivety is contrasted by the implied corruption of Ankh-Morpork, which goes over his head. We don't get Twoflower's perspective at all. Yet.

Second, the corruption is milder. Carrot doesn't know what the seamstresses are, but they give him a place to stay after he helps one, they don't plan to take advantage because he's a sucker.

Third, there are characters in Carrot's backstory that are never mentioned again, but they are nice people, and they reveal Carrot's upbringing. The gang in Ankh-Morpork reveals nothing of Twoflower, and what they reveal of the city is repulsive.

Summary:

- Descriptions in the apropriate place. - Details in moderation. - Throwaway characters should only be developed to convey something. - One or two characters can be without redeeming qualities, but more than that strats driving readers away. - Make the prose flow as smoothly as possible. - Flashbacks triggered by a narative device should start at a point which fits that device. - Main character(s) should get more POV time than side characters, and much more than throwaway ones.

To be continued...

#discworld #studying discworld #literature #gnu terry pratchett #pterry

0 notes

katrandomtiger · 7 years

Text

Paper Spoons & Glass Knives

This is a Hitman: 76 and Detective Reyes enemies to friends to lovers deal.

The prequel

Read it on AO3

Flashpoint, Wyoming is an unknown, underfunded, and unimportant town with a very important purpose; tracking and eliminating hitmen.

For Senior Detective Reyes, his job was his life but after much failure and loss he’s burning out. That is, until the hitman that nearly claimed his life resurfaces in town. Now with the help of two rogues, Reyes and his international team must crack the biggest case of their lives and take down an empire before their reign becomes supreme.

Please excuse the information dump. The first few chapters contain a lot of information but once the main arc starts it should even out. I want y'all to know I started this in May, so yeah. A while ago. I’m excited.

This has nothing to do with the Hitmen video games or any other media, except for Bones, maybe. I just really like crime dramas.

There are a butt ton of background pairings but r76 is the main focus so I don’t wanna really flood the tags.

October 2nd, 207X – 09:00 - Flashpoint, Wyoming

‘Why does this shit always happen in the morning.’

Detective Reyes grumbled to himself as he ducked under the ‘do not cross’ tape and into a narrow alley. Graffiti and filth cover the walls and dumpsters that crowd the passage. The forensics team was nearly done cataloguing and bagging the area.

They’d gotten very well acquainted with this particular alley the last few weeks. This would be the third time this month that they’d been dragged out of the lab to pull a body out of the gutter. There was a fresh tag that looked suspiciously like something he’d seen doodled in the margins of Fawkes’s last report.

Dr. Zeigler looked to be finishing up her field exam on the victim with McCree standing by. All that was visible of the body was a blue arm.

“Who do we have here?” Reyes grumbled.

McCree whipped around and gave his partner a blinding smile before handing him a paper coffee cup. Reyes could forgive the sunshine-y morning attitude if he was being offered caffeine.

“Hitman under the call sign ‘Widowmaker’ aka. Amelie Lacroix. Went missing about two years ago after her debut performance as a prima ballerina in Paris, France. First confirmed kill was her husband Gerard Lacroix four months later. Put a bullet clean through his head from the roof of a building two blocks away.”

Reyes gave a low whistle as he crouched down next to Zeigler. Lacroix’s entire body was an odd shade of blue. The cause of the discoloration was unknow but it was a previously documented trait. What wasn’t documented were the extensive bruises and laceration decorating her corpse.

“Any idea of what happened?”

“It appears she was beaten to death, just like the others. Though it seems a little more violent than the last two,” Dr. Zeigler said, not bothering to face him as she pointed to a hand-shaped bruising on her neck, “Her gun was found covered in blood behind the dumpster.”

“They beat her with her own weapon? Yikes. Do we at least have finger prints this time,” Reyes asked as he stood back up and made his way over to the tarp full of evidence that had been set up.

“Don’t need them,” McCree drawled as he followed him over and picked up a small evidence bag. He hesitated before handing it over to his partner, “Killer left a calling card this time.”

The detective was quick to grab the bag. Inside was a plain cream colored card with a light smear of blood across the edge. Reyes turned the bag over slowly to reveal the seal of the United States Embassy with the number ‘76’ written across it in blood. His heart skipped.

“Shit.”

“Yup, seems your old friend, 76, is back in town.”

Reyes closed his eyes and rubbed his side as memories of a handsome blond officer came rushing to him.

Why Ana had insisted on dragging him along to the Fireman’s Charity ball when she had a perfectly good mystery novelist that would willingly schmooze with Commissioner Adawe was beyond Gabriel. The only good thing about the night was free booze and a cute secretary that he had turning red just by winking at them.

It wasn’t until the last guest arrived that Gabriel started paying attention to the crowd.

Gold was the first word that popped into his mind as the man entered the room, quickly followed by broad and handsome. Gabriel shifted ever so slightly to watch as the new arrival effortlessly danced his way through the crowd, winding through politicians and flirting with every lady he passed until he seemed to disappear.

Ana giggled as she had watched Gabriel push his way into the crowd. He could almost hear the teasing remarks he would receive later as he finally spotted the man again.

To Gabriel’s surprise, and the councilman’s wife’s dismay, the man immediately turned to him and introduced himself as James Hendricks. The two hit it off instantly.

As the night drew on, Gabriel realized that James seemed familiar. He felt as though he’d seen the face before but brushed it off as being paranoid. James had mentioned something about being a part of the Omnic Crisis so perhaps they had met briefly in the field. Gabriel couldn’t really bring himself to care.

At some point, they had shuffled into a vacant room to continue a rather heated discussion about the final strike on the Omnium in Russia without startling some of the more ‘refined’ guests. Gabriel had said something about how omnic joints would freeze up during the battle when James was suddenly much closer than he had been.

Hands slid along his waist and Gabriel soon found himself pinned to the wall. Cold blue eyes boring into his before their lips met.

The rest of scene went by in a blur as Gabe swept his arms up to hook around James’s neck to pull him closer, only to accidently swipe his sleeve across his face.

The smear of foundation never fully came out of that jacket but then again, neither did the blood.

Reyes shook his head as he remembered how all the life had drained out of James’s eyes when the façade was cracked. In just a few second ‘James’ was replaced by a snarling mongrel with an oversized handgun.

Before Gabriel had any time to react a silenced gun was planted firmly in his ribs.

“Esparza sends his regards,” the hound growled before pulling the trigger and sending Gabriel to the ground. His head met the granite floor with an echoing crack, the last thing he registered was a shaking hand slipping a card into his breast pocket and uneven steps leaving the room.

The sight of the scars and dark rings he had accidentally uncovered under 76’s eye still haunted Gabriel’s dreams. It wasn’t until after he woke up in the hospital that he realize why ‘James Hendricks’ looked so familiar.

“Gabe, you ok?” Jesse asked, putting a hand on his partner’s shoulder and giving him a gentle shake.

“No,” he replied simply before placing the card in a box and turning to look over the other bits of evidence. Broken chunks of reinforced plastic and glass were scattered in bags across the ground, “What are these from?”

McCree shuffled around to the other side of the tarp and bent over to pull out a large chunk of the plastic, “This, my friend, is the headpiece that our victim used to snipe with. It magnifies and displaces images while also giving readouts on wind speed and other factors. Oxton found this piece smashed up beside the gun and smaller chunks behind a dumpster.”

“So 76 took her out on her terms? How the hell did he get her down from the roof?”

“That’s a real good question.”

Reyes stalked over to where Zeigler was and nabbed a pair of gloves from her belt. She swiped at him halfheartedly even as she helped Oxton hoist the body onto a stretcher and into the coroner’s van.

“I don’t know if we should arrest this guy or give him an award,” McCree mused as Reyes started picking through a dead bush near where the headpiece had been found, “I think he’s taken out more troublesome hitmen over the last two months then we have in the last year.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think taking out the competition counts as turning over a new leaf nor is it a sign of good intentions. Besides we haven’t fully connected him to last month’s body count.”

“You got me there,” McCree chuckled lightly. He turned and sauntered off to where Zeigler was starting to curse the outdated equipment she was forced to use. She didn’t seem to be having a good day either.

Gabriel gave a noise of annoyance before turning back to the bush. All he was finding were more small chunks of plastic and assorted garbage.

“Hold on a minute- Oxton! Grab me an evidence bag, would you?”

“On it boss man!” she yelled, nearly causeing Angela to drop the stretchrt as she sprinted to the tarp, jumped over it, rolled, grabbed a bag, and sprinted the rest of the way over to him. He had to hold up an arm to shield his face from the gravel the younger officer kicked up, “Here you go!”

“Thanks. Next time, less theatrics, yeah?”

“No promises, sir,” she chirped before bouncing back over to help one of the techs start loading the evidence.

Reyes shook his head fondly before turning back to the bush and gently pulling out a receipt for a nearby grocery store. The time stamp was from the night before around ten.

“Alright people,” he shouted, calling attention from the circus act behind him, “I’ve got a lead. Lena, stay here and help them finish packing this up. Make sure you have everything photographed for Jamie and Winston to work with. Jesse, I want you to come with me.”

“Where are we headed to, partner?” Jesse asks as he trotted over to the tiny hovercar before squeezing into the passenger seat. He liked to joke that putting the both of them in there made it look like a clown car, especially when Gabe was having a bout of road rage.

“Kat’s Grocery Mart.”

“Oh?” Jesse hummed thoughtfully as he reclined into the worn fabric of the seat, “Used to go there all the time went I lived over here. Not the cheapest but they do have the best fresh produce in Flashpoint.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes as he glanced over to his partner. Leave it to Jesse to know everything about the grocery stores in this town, though Gabe supposed he had a pretty good reason. Jesse’s mother probably made him memorize every store location and layout where they lived so he could run errands for her during the day without having to worry about getting cornered by a rival gang.

Back when Jesse was a young and scrawny teenager, he ran with the Deadlock gang down in New Mexico. He bragged that he was their number one look out because of how good his aim and eyesight were. Gabe didn’t doubt it, especially after seeing Jesse land a shot on a suspect from a half a block away at a dead run.

And Jesse couldn’t run straight if his life depended on it.

Luckily for young Jesse, the owner of the restaurant the gang had been planning to hit was a very forgiving woman. Rita McCree had a criminal record bigger and older than most the boys in the Deadlock gang. Even if she hadn’t caught Jesse it was doubtful the gang would have been successful with their raid.

Rita caught Jesse scouting out her place and pulled him into the kitchen by the ear. She took him in, fed him, set him straight, and even adopted him. Mama McCree was a force to be reckoned with. She made sure nobody could mess with her boy.

Gabriel shuddered at the memory of her face when Jesse lost his arm when a police raid on the gang went wrong. He had his cuffs out just in case she decided to run off and demolish the gang with nothing but a cast iron skillet.

Gabriel tuned back into what was happening in the car only to find that his partner had started discussing the finer points of making chili with himself. A dorky grin was plastered across his face as he started imitating his ma.

“-and that is why we have spice warnings on the menus for even our mildest chilies,” Jesse said as they pulled into the parking lot, “Ma said she once had an old white guy try to tell her the apple pie was too spicy.”

Reyes snorted before heaving himself out the car door and into the store with Jesse close behind. The place looked well-kept, one of the cashiers greeted Jesse with a broad smile as they walked up to the customer service office and asked for the manager. They were escorted up the stairs and into a small cluster of offices where they kept the surveillance tapes.

“We need to see the footage from around 10:15 last night, register three,” Reyes told the man helping them, “I would also like to speak to the girl who was working last night if she’s here, need to know if she saw anything strange.”

The man gave him a dead look before nodding and shuffling out of the room. Gabriel glanced over at Jesse who rolled his eyes and said something along the lines of ‘service jobs do that’. Gabe shook his head and turned to the screens in front of him before hitting the play button.

Sure enough, two minutes into the feed a tall man with impossibly wide shoulders and graying blond hair wanders up to the register with a golden retriever at his side. Gabe notes that the man doesn’t seem to have an even gait and the dog is almost herding him to the conveyer belt. He responds to the cashier’s questions with a light smile before handing her the cash and turning to the door. The camera there catches a perfect picture of the man’s face.

“Shit.”

Jesse sits quietly behind him. A knock on the table next to the stairs startles both officers away from the screen and to a young cashier who looks ready to cry.

“Mr. Edwards said you wanted to speak to me about something?” she managed to squeak.

Reyes looked over to his partner. McCree was better with kids then him.

“We just needed to ask you about a gentleman that came through your line last night, darlin’,” Jesse started, pointing at the image on the screen, “Did you notice anything strange about this man last night?”

“Mr. Morrison?” she said incredulously, “Is he ok? Did something happen? He seemed antsy last night but he said he was just meeting an old friend.”

“Wait, you know this man?” Gabe raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Ye-yeah, he’s become one of our regulars. He started coming in about two months ago. He’s super nice and sometimes he’ll swap recipes with one of our office ladies. His service dog, Lucy, is a real sweetheart too. He lets us pet her sometimes.”

“How often does he come in?” Jesse asked before the detective could say anything.

“Every other day,” the cashier, Nicole, says, “He usually doesn’t come in so late but he told Matt, one of the stockers, that he had an unexpected visitor. Mentioned something about making her a surprise… Is he ok?”

The two officers exchange a look. Seems that 76’s visitor got their special surprise alright, but why? It was unusual for hitmen to go after each other and why was 76 hanging around in a grocery store of all places? Also, what was with the dog?

“Mr. Morrison is fine, we’ll need your contact information though, just in case something else comes up.” Reyes motioned for McCree to get it while he downloaded the footage.

After they questioned all the employees in the store about ‘Mr. Morrison’ they hopped back into their car and headed for the station. It seemed that no one had a bad thing to say about the man. The only complaint was from a particularly whiny deli clerk who didn’t like that service dogs were allowed in the store.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Jesse groaned once they arrived at the station.

“What did you expect? That a hitman of 76’s age and caliber would just fall right into our lap?” Gabriel snorted as they made their way down the hall. Satya gave them a curt nod as they passed the reception desk.

“Well when you put it that way,” Jesse said sheepishly as they got into the elevator.

“Going up?” called a voice from down the hall. A short woman in uniform turned around the corner swiftly.

“Chief Amari,” Jesse greeted enthusiastically, “get in here before Gabe gets the doors closed!”

“He better not close those doors or he’ll be on desk duty for the rest of the week.”

Reyes’s hand hovered by the button as he weighed his options. Ana stepped on before he could make a move and promptly shoved him into the wall before hitting the button for the forensic labs. Jesse laughed as Gabe steadied himself on the handrail.

“So,” Ana started as Gabriel straightened and pretended to dust off his jacket, “how’s the investigation going?”

“Better than we expected. Not only did the killer leave a calling card but he also left evidence that we traced back to a grocery store,” he said. The three stepped into the lab, Jesse immediately took the footage over to where Fawkes was having a heavily one sided conversation with one of the giant clean-up guys.

“I heard about the calling card. How are you doing?” Ana asked sympathetically.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Gabe, I am not above sending you to talk to the psychologist. If it is too much tell me.”

Gabriel fixed her with a glare as she swept by him and into the lab where Lacroix’s body was already laid out and being prepped for autopsy. Angela was breezing back and forth between the tables with Winston close by. Even from a distance he could see the dark marks marring her otherwise flawless blue skin. Gabriel could only imagine the kind of beating she took to receive such marks.

Ana had a few words with the analysts before walking back to Gabriel and taking him to her office. The room was softly lit and smelled of tea. Pictures of Ana’s daughter and late husband dotted the shelves. Gabriel sank down into one of the armchairs as Ana rounded her desk and plopped into her chair.

“So Fareeha is coming home for the weekend next week and I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

Gabriel blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic, “Of course I want to come over and see my god daughter, what kind of question is that?”

Fareeha had just left in August for college in Colorado. With her gone everything had been almost unbearably quiet. It was almost like he’d lost another daughter…

Gabriel shook his head violently to rid himself of that train of thought. He didn’t need to have another breakdown in Ana’s office. The sad look she was giving him wasn’t helping though.

“Well I’m glad to hear that. Jesse and Reinhardt are coming too. I think Fareeha said something about bring one of her new friends up with her too.”

“Well I’m glad to know she’s making friends.”

Ana hummed in agreement, “She said she was having some difficulty but she started working for the school and met some very nice people. She loves it out there.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence before the door violently swung open an a very disheveled McCree burst into the room. He was breathing hard and had a slightly crumpled letter in his hand. Both senior officers held their breath when they noticed the tears rolling down his face.

“Y-You didn’t,” he sniffled with a shaky smile.

Ana’s face broke into a broad grin as she hurried over to the sobbing cowboy and pulled him into a tight hug. Gabe grabbed the letter from his shaking hands and read it. He couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his chest as he threw an arm around Jesse’s shoulders.

“Good job, vaquero,” he said as he set the FBI acceptance letter down on the desk.

Who’s ready? I’m (not) ready!

Updates should be weekly but I’m in college so who really knows. The first 5 chapters have been pre-written so that should help.

If you ever need anything tagged, please tell me! Your feedback is very important to me!

#r76 #reaper76 #jack morrison #gabriel reyes #jesse mccree #tw: violence #tw: death #sorry i had to kill amelie in the first chapter #fanfiction #overwatch #whispers from the scrapheap

4 notes · View notes