#he even has a lab coat for no real reason is everybody else seeing the parallels here? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twst-campos13 · 3 years

Note

headcanons for Rook, Malleus, Silver, and Vil when their m!s/o jumps on their back biting their head screaming nonsense like a mad man. the first year gang coming running and one explains wheezing “mistake in potions, physical capabilities inhanced, out of control, immune to magic, help”

the rest of the day is spent with literally all the twst boys chasing after their insane boyfriend. tears were shed, dignity lost, pride scratched.

by the time he’s caught it’s nearly midnight and none of them know what’s real anymore since he kept screaming very philosophical things.

i await your answer with anticipation~

*weakly grips you,,,*

it is...finished....i will leave most of my commentary in the notes...also please read the warning tags carefully!

Warnings: language, mild physical violence, implicit dementia (Vil’s part!), poison, blood, depiction/description of death, goofy’s trial dialogue (Vil’s part), mild gun threat (Vil’s part) << no actual guns were present but was mentioned Tags: male!reader, angst, crackfic

This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Ace started it. Deuce aided. Epel volunteered. Jack said it was a bad idea and Sebek warned them. Yet in the end—in the end—they contributed. They helped. And when the smoke cleared from the explosion that shattered the laboratory's windows, beakers, and test tubes, spilling chemicals on the ground—on you—it was too late for Crewel to protect you. For your friends to protect you.

Grim called your name. Once. Twice. Thrice in a yowl of panic as Deuce held him back and carried him away when he tried to get closer to your unmoving body; it's laying in a puddle of liquid. Black? Brown? Gray? He doesn't know the colors—how doesn't know what's happening—he doesn't know and he doesn't care because he just wants you to be safe.

Ace couldn't speak. Deuce couldn't move. Epel started shaking but hid behind a mask of control. Jack's ears and tail were erratic and Sebek broke the silence with a firm command of retreating. Let the professor handle this. Let the adult handle it.

Then you moved.

They watched you rose from the ground like a corpse from the grave.

And hell breaks loose.

➸ Why did you bite his head and messed his hair up

➸ He got no time for games, fool

➸ KIDDING

➸ Granted you did jump at Vil when his Flying Class was done. It startled him and shocked everybody. His face flared because he thought your surprise hugs had gotten too far. It took Mr. Ashton and a few of his classmates to get you off him. He's pretty sure you managed to tear off a few hairs from his scalp—and skin apparently because he felt blood drip down his lashes.

➸ Okay, that's not normal behavior for you-

➸ You were more than disheveled; your lab coat was torn and singed, blood was seeping from your clothes, and you had a dazed look. Vil fixed himself immediately, of course, but it's natural for him to get worried about you. You looked awful. Vil was sure the chemicals splattered on your skin and uniform was what was making you disoriented. What are these fools doing still holding onto you? You should be taken to the infirmary this instance!

➸ Vil wasn't prepared for what you did next. The moment Mr. Ashton held your shoulders to lead you to the infirmary, you knocked him out with an elbow strike. What the fuck.

➸ Okay, obviously, you're defensive. Vil took out his pen and—along with a few other students and the professor??—tried to restrain you. Vil was careful not to cast any harmful spells on you but for some reason, the professor and the other seniors seem to go off on casting advanced spells that could quite literally kill you! Du spinnst wohl are they insane?

➸ It took a lot from Vil to not be hysterical. Panicking will not do him any good but having to witness you get blasted by magic and only shake it off while maddeningly laughing is frustrating. He couldn't bear the sight of seeing you get hurt and argued loudly with one of the seniors to go easy on you. The fact that you were spouting nonsense doesn't help your situation at all, especially when you declared this, "ah-hyuck! I'll fucking shoot 'em again."

➸ "Love, will you please cooperate!" was what Vil wished to say, but seeing you in this state brought a jab of pain in his heart. The familiarity of this situation—the confusion, the frustration, the worry, the pain—adds up to the pressure and desperation of just saving you from whatever the fuck this is.

➸ Vil doesn't even want to look at himself in the mirror. He fears that he'll end up breaking the mirror from what he'll see, but he's pretty sure, with the fight and the chase you're giving everyone, that his makeup is running and his hair is a mess. Amidst nausea and chaos, Vil came up with a solution to restrain you. So, gathering what is left of his dignity and pride, and his love for you, Vil wiped the sweat and smudged makeup off his face and ran back to Pomefiore.

➸ Don't ask why he has a ready-made collection of poisons. Just don't. It's for emergencies—such as this.

➸ Rook found him hunched over his table with the vials of poison. He calmed Vil down and assured him that you'll be alright. The only fear that Vil has is losing another person he cares about—that includes you. Rook kissed his hand and told him he will bring the poison to you. Rook knows how much you mean to Vil, and because of his devotion to his roi de poison, he will do whatever he can to ensure your safety for Vil's sanity.

➸ Rook advised Vil not to come with him, but he wants to. Vil wants to be able to hold you in his arms and be the first to make sure that you're okay.

➸ When the deed has been done, Vil rushed to your side. He expected your body to be as cold as a corpse but still, it shocked him. He ignored the whisper of doubt and tended to the wound Rook made to put you to sleep. You've been taken to the infirmary along with everyone else that you caused inconvenience. Vil didn't come for the anxiety settled with the fatigue in his body.

➸ When Vil came back to the Pomefiore common room, sluggish and tired, he found Rook holding Epel's shoulder. The little potato couldn't look at him in the eye and frankly, Vil just wanted to spend some time in his quarters. However, Epel's confessed, and a little bit of energy came back to Vil so he can process what the little potato said to him.

➸ He what.

➸ His hand sprung up instinctively and Epel flinched. But Vil knew this wouldn't undo what happened. He knew it isn't worth it. Vil doesn't have the strength to be angry or blame Epel. It was a mistake, after all. A very stupid mistake. Epel looked pitiful crying for forgiveness so Vil asked Rook to send him back to his room.

➸ It's proven enough just how Vil cares about you.

Vil sat down in front of his vanity table. He could not bear to look at himself in the mirror. All he could do is stare blankly at nothing. Your words made no sense and Vil feared the worst when you wake up. If you wake up.

"Great Sevens..." he muttered and wiped the tears that fell from his face. He knew what he had to do next. He just had to be prepared for it.

➸ Imagine Rook saying "oh mon Dieu" with the most neutral face and surprised eyes as if the explosion was just a mild inconvenience.

➸ POV: you're Trey Clover

➸ He and Trey were just cleaning around in the greenhouse when the explosion occurred. Rook knows that you have a special assignment with your friends. You didn't tell him what it is but he doesn't need you to. (He overheard Epel and Ace chill he respects you enough as his boyfriend to not pry into your private life via stalking)

- ➸ He wasted no time dashing to the potions lab. Being a hunter makes you very quickly as well as expecting the unexpected. However, he didn't expect the First Year Gang to be thrown out of the door and you emerge from the smoke as if you were some sort of ravaging beast.

➸ If you weren't obviously covered in soot and blood, Rook would have fainted from the beauty and badassery you're currently conveying.

➸ Now is not the time to be in awe—you jumped wall to wall with a speed faster than a cheetah's and Rook was able to deflect your attack by sidestepping. However, a few students got injured in the process. Rook saw your intention despite Monsieur Heart warning the students to not get in the way, lest they hurt themselves. You had no intention to harm—only run.

➸ Rook has two options: follow you empty-handed or grab his bow and risk losing you

➸ He's confident in his skills in finding you, so he chose to gather information first. By that, well, pulling Epel to the side to calm him down then ask him what happened. Rook managed to understand the situation despite Epel shaking like a leaf. He doesn't feel angry. Such emotion would only intensify his instincts and he might do something that will put you and everyone else in harm more. So instead he thanked Epel, gave his head a pat, and quickly dashed to his locker for his bow and arrows.

➸ Your boyfriend is a madman before you, for he immediately knows where you were after getting his bow. Rook attained higher heights for a better view and from the roof, he saw your figure dashing towards the forest. Ah, so your instincts led you to where you wish to be. Alright, this isn't Rook's first hunt.

➸ When everyone else had trouble tracking you down, Rook doesn't. He reminded himself that you're not in the right mind. His monsieur filou is akin to a startled, confused, and defensive wild animal at the moment. Like a little rat, he supposed. Your movements aren't that hard to decipher for a hunter like him plus he can hear your kitchen philosophy from a mile away.

➸ He has to apologize to Vil for taking a few vials of ready-made poison. But this is a matter of life and death. You are in danger from yourself, and as your knight, Rook will save you. Quiet as he can, he laced the tip of his arrow with the poison and aimed it at you. Rook closed his eyes and reminded himself that he is doing this to save you; not to harm you.

➸ He notched his arrow—and you caught it with your bare. Fucking. Hand. SINGLE HAND!!

➸ Rook, internally: holy shit that was hot

➸ Well his covers have been blown and you waved the arrow around screaming something about "I trusted you little guy!" before throwing the arrow with such accuracy while saying "go and take your little mice friend family rat with you!"

➸ Mon Dieu, he does not appreciate being called a rat!

➸ The chase continued and you quite gave everyone a workout. As much as Rook appreciated the stimulating experience you gave him, he much rather wants you subdued and safe, not running around with so many people after you. Luckily, Vil came in and gave him a new vial that is much more potent than the one he stole. He is amazed by the preparedness of his roi de poison but he is much concerned at the potency of the poison.

➸ Vil strictly stared at him and nodded at the new direction you ran to. "With his state like that, you need to take the risks." Rook took his advice. Vil is always sharp as a dagger after all.

➸ Which means he had to use a dagger than an arrow to subdue you. Yes, Rook took the risk of having the poison close to him and closer to you in a 1 v 1 scuffle. Ah, this took him back to when he wrestled his first bear. Except the bear is his boyfriend and you're still quite human...and he's going to drive the blade of his dagger in a non-critical part of your body.

➸ Finally, the drama ended, and the curtains closed when your body fell into his arms. Your blood trickles into a small stream from where he drove the blade in. Rook knelt to the ground and cradled your body in his arms. Sweat dripped everywhere on his skin but he doesn't care about that. He cares about you.

➸ Rook reminded himself that you can be cured of your sleep-like death and prioritized the wound that he engraved on your skin. He kissed the place where he stabbed you and solemnly apologized for defacing your body. Worry not, he will have you stitched in the infirmary, and you will awaken with his kiss...atleast he hoped you will.

➸ Epel was waiting there when Rook brought you in. The poor boy had been crying and he apologized to Rook for the mistake he had done. Rook felt no anger and instead felt sympathy. He too had done his fair share of mistakes, and Epel should not burden himself with those. Instead, he told him, take this as a learning experience as to not do it again.

➸ Rook saved Epel from Vil's harsh scolding. Now, the only one that needs saving, is you.

Even in a sleep-like death, you are still beautiful. Your pale skin is a worrying sight to many but Rook managed to calm himself by admiring it instead. Your body is like marble with blue veins spreading in varied directions.

Rook knew he cannot distract himself by admiring you like a statue of art. You are an art, not a statue. Only histories remain as statues—and you will not become history. He knew what he had to do.

"Oh, mon filou," he whispered against your cold lips, "forgive me."

➸ Just a reminder: Malleus cares for you deeply :))

➸ He was just minding his own business when you suddenly attacked him from behind. Malleus thought you were just being your usual self and lifted his head so you'd let go of his horns. But you didn't and instead, you pulled on it harder that it startled him. He knows how strong you are—meaning something is wrong-

➸ You had quite the vice grip on his horns even when he used his tail to try and pry you off and even shake you off. He didn't want to use his entire strength to throw you but the moment his skin broke under your nails, his instincts came in first, and he threw you across the hallway.

➸ Malleus was horrified. He didn't mean to throw you much less even hurt you. The panic got to him faster than the pain on his head as he rushed to where you flew. Was it possible to feel overwhelming fear? When Malleus' saw the outline of your figure cut clean on the window, he felt something more than fear. If he had lost you and it was his fault, then his promises for you are broken.

➸ Then he spots your hand reach through the hole in the window. And you pulled yourself up and through the hole before dropping to the floor like a ragdoll. You were covered in bruises and cuts. Malleus feared that you have a concussion as well for you were muttering loudly about the stars melting and the Moores burning.

➸ Well, Malleus could worry about that later. You were injured and disoriented. The amount of blood coming out of you is increasing and his priority is getting you to safety.

➸ However, just before he can scoop you in his arms, his knights came to his side. Silver looked like he'd been roused from his sleep as Sebek is disheveled. He made a firm declaration of protecting the Young Master, and that would have been normal for Sebek...if he was standing proud and tall as he said it. Malleus could easily smell the anxiety and lingering guilt from the young fae.

➸ Things got even more concerning as Professor Crewel, Crowley, a few senior students, and Sebek's friends joined in. Malleus looked back at you and saw your cornered state. He doesn't understand what's happening yet but one thing is for sure—you're equally terrified as he is. Everyone was on guard, the Headmaster and the Professor spoke to you as if you were a wild animal—which you were—but all Malleus could think of is grabbing you and flying you away to safety.

➸ Which he did do despite public opinions

➸ By public opinions, the shouts of protests that soon fell quiet when he grabbed you and disappeared...also the "protest" falling from you which Malleus couldn't really understand. It was philosophy and poetry and a prophecy that he can comprehend little; for all Malleus cares about is you.

➸ "My dear, please, what had happened to you?" The desperation was painfully obvious in his tone as he restrained you with advanced magic. Yet as he tried to call you out of your subconscious he realized that magic is futile. Whatever state you are in you are able to break free from his magic. Malleus stayed on the defense as you attacked him, yet he recognized your attempts of attacking as desperation for help. If you crying and wailing out "save me" and "free me" isn't enough to give it away.

➸ No matter how many cuts you give him, no matter how much he will bleed, Malleus refused to fight you.

➸ He just wants you to be okay :((

➸ Malleus knew what he had to do but he doesn't know if he had the strength to do it. Your face streaked with tears and pain pushed his heart to do it anyway. So, Malleus shoved you away with a quick pulse of magic, just enough time for him to summon his staff. He blocked your mouth from biting his neck with his arm, and even if it hurts, seeing your eyes begging to be saved hurts more.

➸ When Lilia and the others found him, he was cradling your body in his arms. His staff laid on the ground and his tears dripped down your face like a fickle rain. Lilia didn't need an answer to know what he had done.

➸ Malleus pulled your unconscious body close to him, hoping—desperate—to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. He couldn't hear your pulse, your heartbeat, and he couldn't feel your warmth. All he could feel is cold and numbness. But atleast you are at rest. You are saved. You're okay. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.

➸ But he knows deep down that you're not. Because if you are okay, he wouldn't be noiselessly crying and clinging to your body as if you just died. You're alive but you're also dead. Knowing the cure for this dilemma tore his heart to pieces because deep down Malleus is still afraid. He feels like he lost you even though the truth isn't far from it.

➸ Your words echoed in his mind before he hit you with his Unique Magic. You started hissing and wailing and finally, you raised your arms in the air and shouted, "this curse will last till the end of time—no power on earth can change it!"

➸ Can you blame him for putting you in a sleep-like death, a sleep which you will never awaken unless by True Love's Kiss? He panicked :((

➸ Malleus kept your body close to him even when he stood up and looked at Sebek bowing deeply on the ground. He was shaking but his tone was loud enough for Malleus to have an understanding of the matter and of Sebek's apology.

➸ Hearing that he was an accomplice of what happened to you gave him mixed emotions.

➸ Sebek vowed his loyalty to Malleus, and when you came into his life, Sebek vowed to protect you as well. And he failed. That is very clear. The poor boy must be getting gnawed inside out with guilt. Well, Sebek did say that he will accept whatever punishment that is will befall him. He should stay true to his words because Malleus is furious.

➸ Malleus vowed to protect you and raise Hellfire to whoever will cause you harm. He wanted to curse him, burn him on where he stands, and make him pay for what he had done unto you. He could do all of these for he can.

➸ But Malleus won't. He won't do those things to Sebek. He held himself back, swallowed the anger, remained in control of himself in front of the pitiful boy. Sebek is your friend. Sebek is his family. In the end, despite his loyalty, despite his duty, Sebek is still a kid. And Malleus knows that. He won't let this burden the young boy despite him taking full responsibility for the situation.

➸ But Malleus doesn't have the words to say what he wants to say. Instead, he told Sebek to rise from his feet and wordlessly left to bring you to the infirmary.

➸ In the end, what matters most is you.

Your words remain in his mind to echo along with the voices of his fears. Malleus wished to feel the warmth of your hand again, for when he grasped it by your bedside he could feel nothing.

True Love's Kiss can wake you. True Love's Kiss. But do such a thing exist in Twisted Wonderland? Of course, it does, Malleus, of course, it does. However, seeing your pale lips are more of a dreadful reminder than a hopeful invitation.

The fear settled in his stomach along with his insecurities. Malleus cannot lose you. He can live without you, but he does not want to.

➸ Homeboy was just sleeping under the tree,,, he didn't hear the explosion go off or even heard you running at him at full speed

➸ By that, well, running at inhumane speed and pouncing right on him like a rabid animal.

➸ He woke right up when he felt the pain immediately. It was like getting hit with a spine of a book—it jostled him enough to wake him, at least, and the adrenaline rushing through him was enough to knock you off. Silver didn't have time to get what the fuck was happening but thank the Sevens he was trained enough to be quick-footed.

➸ He had time to grab his baton but he didn't have time to block your pounce. And damn you hit like a truck! Silver had to use his baton to block your face even if your entire weight was pressing down at him. There was something definitely wrong with you—and it's not just the look in your eyes-

➸ "What's gotten into you?!" the sudden shout made you calm down—thankfully—and Silver thought you're fine again. You looked at him blankly and the anxiety nipped at his skin. "Are you talking to me?" ????? Who else is he talking to???

➸ When he talked to you, like, yes dear I'm talking to you, your face contorted into something akin to bashfulness—the tipsy kind of bashfulness. The next thing you said confused and worried him more: "Mrs. Robinsons...you're seducing me."

➸ ???? Who the fuck is Mrs. Robinsons???

➸ Well, Silver doesn't have time to think what kind of enchantment table language you're daying because you're suddenly thrown away from him by a burst of magic—advanced magic that he only saw Malleus cast once because of the sheer force it can create. By that, meaning, one single hit of that magic can KILL A REGULAR HUMAN BEING.

➸ It was Professor Crewel who fired the blast and even he looked astounded at what he'd done. Silver didn't waste any time rushing to where you were blasted off. He was expecting you...dead, remains, fuck...what he wasn't expecting was seeing you still standing. Barely alive with your skin blooded and peeling and regenerating—but alive, nonetheless.

➸ He locked eyes with you again and the cold feeling settled at the pit of his stomach looking at you. "Hey. Don't look at me like I'm fucking Frankenstein." You opened your arms at him and gave a solemn nod. "Give your father a hug."

➸ Silver, softly: what the fuck

➸ When Professor Crewel withdrew his wand again you literally hissed like a raccoon. And it looked like he wasn't alone for Sebek pulled Silver away from your range. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were here too. Silver took a deep breath and looked at Sebek wordlessly demanding what the fuck is happening.

➸ Sebek, as quick as he could, explained the situation to Silver. The quick run-down of things swum around in Silver's head as your nonsensical remarks made him dizzier. Guess that explains your strength and immunity to magic.

➸ Silver: who did this to him?? Sebek, sweating: it's a funny story, really

➸ Silver stared at Sebek. He didn't have time to process what the fuck Sebek just confessed to because you screamed again. Sebek and he whipped around to see you viciously tearing apart roots and magical bonds set off by the professor along with the senior students that rushed to the scene. "ALRIGHT," you screamed, yeeting Ace, "I'm TIRED of these EFFIN snakes on this MOTHERFUCKIN' TRAIN!" Then you took off running the other direction toward the forest, and the chorus of frustration reminded Silver of the gravity of the situation.

➸ The absurd weight on his entire body made Silver wish this was just a nightmare.

➸ But it would be a nightmare to lose you.

➸ Even when the night was starting to stretch, and the others were sent by the staff to the infirmary, Silver went to the forest with a heavy heart and his baton in hand. Sebek followed him—for what, a sense of responsibility?—and stopped him before he runs into a tree or worse. Silver snapped at him, the anger finally reaching its surface, and he glared at the young man. Silver isn't the type to fight with his fist nor his words, but this is about you. You who were struck by a mix of potions and magic and currently missing because someone's big head got you in trouble.

➸ Silver knows that Sebek knows how much you mean to him. He's also well aware of Sebek's particular dislike for humans. That remark made Sebek slightly stumble. A flash of hurt and angry was in his eyes but he never tried to hit Silver, despite almost losing control over himself.

➸ "Fighting would not bring him back, Silver. Arguing will not either," Sebek told him. "I know my apologies will be useless in this situation and that is why I will do everything that I can to fix this."

➸ Silver is on the verge of fucking tears but it won't compare to Sebek who remains a straight face while his nose turns bright red from holding back tears. Fortunately, before things get worse, Lilia and Malleus came from the trees. In Malleus' arms was you, quiet, and sedated. Silver would have jumped at Malleus and whisked you away but he's suddenly overcome with fatigue that Lilia had to place his arms around him.

➸ Apparently, the two found you by the river doing whatever then Malleus struck you with his Unique Magic. At that mention, Silver felt cold. He didn't realize how tired he felt, from running around to worrying about you. Despite the heaviness on his shoulders and eyelids, he kept his eyes on you. You looked peaceful but hurt. And Silver wished he can keep you close to him to make you less hurt.

➸ He's glad that you're okay now but he feels dreadful about what's to come next. That dread never left, though, even when the slumber takes him.

"Poor things," Lilia sighed, stroking Silver's locks as Sebek carried the boy on his back. Malleus still has your unconscious body in your arms. His expression is unreadable.

Sebek felt the guilt suffocating him but he remained calm despite the lodge in his throat. "M—Master Lilia—Young master—It...this is..." Sebek stammered, failing to grasp the appropriate words for a sincere pardon. Yet Silver's weight is just as heavy as his sins. Lilia, however, stroked his head. "Save your strength, little one. The best you can do for now is take Silver to the infirmary," the elder fae instructed.

Sebek only nodded and obediently abided.

351 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 107

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,300ish

Summary: The team figures out the monolith and tries to save Simmons

“Do something!”

“Fitz,” Y/N got up and hurried to him. She was afraid to portal, scared of what the monolith might do. “Come on.” She grabbed his arm but he tore it away. “We have to get out of here!”

“Leave me alone!”

He turned and decked Y/N in the face, causing her to tumble down the steps and to the ground. Y/N gently touched her face, pulling her hand back to see blood.

“Fitz! Y/N!” Mack shouted, rushing to grab Fitz from the container.

“Fitz, get out of there!” Hunter yelled, getting the door.

“Are you crazy?”

“Close it!” Bobbi yelled. “Close it!”

“Y/N!” Daisy rushed over. “Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding.”

As soon as Bobbi and Hunter closed the container, the monolith turned into liquid. Everyone was panting.

“Damn it, Fitz,” Coulson murmured, coming into the room.

“I had to know,” Fitz panted. “Had to— had to know—“

“I already lost Simmons to that thing. I cannot afford to lose you or Y/N, too.”

“Trying to get yourself killed?” Hunter wondered.

“Sorry,” Fitz said. “I won’t give up. I can’t give up.”

“None of us want to, Fitz, but…” Daisy tried to say.

“Fitz,” Bobbi knelt down in front of him, “you tried. Okay? You tried your hardest. Everybody knows that.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I missed something. I m… I missed something.” He wiped something off his face.

“What is that?”

“Proof.” Fitz got up and ran to the lab.

“Y/N,” Coulson said, the others turning to face her. She was still on the ground, breathing heavily. “Oh my…” There was a long cut down the right side of Y/N’s face. “Did he—“

“I’ll be fine…” She panted. “I’ll be fine…”

“Come on,” Daisy urged, helping Y/N up. “Let’s get that stitched up.”

Daisy took Y/N to Coulson’s office and Bobbi brought all the supplies to help patch up the cut.

“He didn’t mean to,” Bobbi said quietly.

“I know,” Y/N responded.

“He just misses Simmons so much.”

“I know.”

“It hurts—“

“I know, Bobbi! Just stop, okay?” Tears formed in Y/N’s eyes. “Out of everyone here, I think I understand the most… I lost Bucky… no one could find his body… I was torn. I acted out too. That’s how I’m here… So I understand. I get that now we know Bucky’s alive, but we didn’t then. And I didn’t think he would ever come back… Honestly, at least he has hope. That’s more than I ever had.”

~~~

Fitz showed up in the office not too long later. He had a tablet in hand and pulled up his findings.

“Sand,” he stated. “Not just sand. Impossible sand.”

“The monolith’s case is a clean room,” Mack said. “There’s nothing in there but that rock. Not even dust.”

“Unless you blast it open with a shotgun and contaminate everything,” Hunter retorted.

“That’s not what this is,” Bobbi shook her head.

“Okay, the sand itself, not unusual,” Fitz continued. “Mostly silicone-dioxide particles just like on Earth.”

“Wait, are you saying…” Y/N paused. “You’re saying this sand is not from Earth?”

“Carbon dating show that—“

“It predates the Earth by a billion years,” Fitz interrupted Bobbi.

“So you think the rock is a portal?” Daisy asked.

“No. No, I’m proving that it’s a portal. Okay, to another planet, a-a very old planet. A crack in space-time that carried Simmons away… and carried the sand back. Which means…”

“She’s out there,” Coulson stated. “But it’s been months.”

“Yeah?”

“She could be long gone from wherever this thing dropped her.”

“Yeah.”

“She could be dead.”

“Yes.”

“But we’re gonna find out, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” / “You’re damn right.” / “For sure.” / “Yeah.”

“Okay, Fitz, what do you need?” Y/N asked. “I can get Tony to bring some things as well.”

“Uh, uh, well, uh, more historical data. People have studied this thing for centuries. I need an expert on quantum mechanics and Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory. And a— a sandwich would be nice.”

“I might have an idea,” Coulson said, nodding, “about the other things.” He turned to Daisy and Mack. “You two, stay with our new inhuman guest. Be here for Dr. Garner’s assessment. Building that team is still the priority.”

“What did I say?” Daisy commented, her and Mack exiting.

“Bobbi—“

“I’m on this with Fitz,” Bobbi responded.

“Yeah, haven’t you been on this with Fitz the whole time? Hiding his trip to Morocco, covering for him on a constant basis?”

“Have I?” She smirked, walking out.

“And you know where you’re going,” Coulson said to Hunter. Hunter nodded and left.

“What about me?” Y/N asked. “I’m staying until Simmons is found. I’ve already texted Tony and he’s on stand-by if we need anything.”

“With me.”

~~~

Coulson explained that they were going to make a visit to a Professor Randolph. He was an Asgardian, hiding out on Earth. The team had a run in with him once when Y/N was on a break. Bobbi and Fitz joined them.

“I’m sorry,” Randolph said, reading a book inside of his cell. “I can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Coulson questioned.

“Potato, puh-tah-toe.”

“And your reason?”

“The nightly news, cities flying into the atmosphere, government task forces, and now the public is freaking out about alien outbreaks. Pretty crappy time to be on Earth if you’re not a local, so I am staying low. And of course,” he chuckled, “there is my current situation.”

“Destruction of property, public drunkenness,” Bobbi clarified.

“And here I thought that Asgardians could hold their drinks?” Y/N retorted.

“Yes, well, Asgardians can generally hold their drink. It’s just, well, one night I tried to hold all the drinks.”

“Asgardians are also strong, right?” Bobbi questioned. “You could easily break out.”

“What? And miss dinner?” He chuckled. “Oh, no. Yes, norse prisons are surprisingly evolved—decent food, comfy bed, extensive library, and no attention being drawn to me. Come back in a few months, why don’t you? Maybe then I’ll be in the mood.”

“Can’t I just call in Thor?” Y/N muttered to Bobbi.

“We don’t have a few months,” Fitz stated.

“And neither do you,” Coulson said. “I don’t have to remind you that I saved your life. Though I did just mention it in case you forgot. But I’d still have no problems contacting those task forces you mentioned. I bet they’d go bonkers to have a real life Asgardian to dissect in their labs. I don’t know how comfy you’d be there.”

“Why, Agent Coulson…” Randolph said, standing up. “Are you threatening me?”

“I wouldn’t call it a… well, yeah, I guess I am. That’s absolutely a threat.”

“You’re different now. You know that?”

“One must accommodate the times or things get messy.”

“What’s with the hand?”

“Things got messy.”

“Well… you’ll have to cover my realize. And if there is a portal, which I will have to see to believe, you are diving into very dangerous waters here.”

“We live in the dangerous waters,” Y/N commented. “And have been for a while.”

Randolph exhaled sharply. “Alright. Well, it’s not like you’re giving me any choice.”

He quickly tore off the door and the alarm started blaring. He grabbed his coat and they began walking out. Guards rushed in.

“He did it,” Randolph said, pointed at Coulson.

Coulson gave a nervous chuckle and a smile.

~~~

After talking themselves out of it, they took Randolph to the base. He walked around, observing the monolith.

“Well, I hate to disappoint, but it looks like your regular, old—“ He stopped when the monolith turned to liquid then back into a rock. “Oh. How often does it do that?”

“It’s random,” Fitz answered.

“No. No, no, no, no. It may seem random. But… something is clearly triggering it.”

“I’ve checked it against tides, relation to the sun, rotation—“

“On this planet. So you have no idea how to control it. Why come to me? I’m no interstellar-travel expert. I’ve never even studied gravitational lensing or zero-point energy fields or quantum-harmonic oscillation theory.”

“Yet you know all those words you just said,” Bobbi retorted.

“And you’re scared of portals,” Coulson added. “You’re scared of being dragged back home through a portal. Y/N?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Y/N replied with a smirk.

She walked up to Randolph, opening a portal behind him and pushed him into it. Another portal opened on the other side of the room, causing him to exit from it.

“Impossible,” Randolph panted. “No human should be—“

“I’m connected with the Tesseract,” Y/N interrupted. “I can channel it. And I know it’s on Asgard and I’m pretty sure if I tried hard enough I could send you back there.”

“What I think, Randolph, is that in your drunken stumble through history, you’ve probably investigated every story involving a portal,” Coulson said.

“And I’ve seen you eyeing all of your exits,” Bobbi added. “My knee brace, wondering if you can get away with it. The only reason you came with us was to confirm its existence.”

“And destroy it,” Randolph confirmed.

“You’ll have to go through me,” Fitz stated.

“And I could. Literally. But, then, I don’t know what amazon woman and robot hand are capable of these days. And don’t get me started with the Avenger over there. So I will help you get her back. I’m not entirely heartless. But if I do, I want your word that we will demolish this portal and no one passes through it again.”

“I’ll sleep better at night,” Coulson confirmed.

“Good. Well, I’ve investigated a lot of these wormhole rumors. But that’s all they were, rumors. None have panned out. So we know nothing of its origin.”

“Kree, maybe.”

“And this parchment was found with it,” Bobbi said, grabbing the paper and handing it to Randolph.

“Well, hello,” Randolph said, studying the parchment through the bag it was in. “I’ve seen this.”

“It’s a common Hebrew word.”

“Yes. What else do we know, Mr. Fitz?”

“Uh, well, the monolith changed hands a lot,” Fitz explained. “Germanic tribes, spent the hundred years’ war in France. But before the Napoleon era, it was moved again. I lost track of it somewhere in—“

“England.”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

“Because I have seen this word carved into the walls of a castle in Gloucestershire, England, in 1853. To the plane!” Then Randolph started for the door, when no one followed he turned around. “W—am I allowed to say that?”

“Let’s all go to the plane, I guess,” Coulson agreed.

~~~

While on the flight over to England, Y/N was talking to Tony.

“Are you sure you guys don’t need my help?” Tony asked. “I could get there at the same time as you still.”

“I’m sure, Tony,” Y/N replied. “The lead we’re currently following seems solid.” Y/N sighed. “I just want to bring Simmons home so that I can come home.”

“You’ll find her. I know you will.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

From the doorway, Fitz cleared his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention to him. He looked guilty.

“I need to go, Tones,” Y/N said. “I love you.” She hung up, slipping her phone in her pocket. “You need something, Fitz?”

“Yeah, I, uh…” Fitz started, coming to sit beside Y/N. “I need to apologize… I shouldn’t have hit you back like I did. You were only trying to help… I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Fitz.” She rested a hand on his knee. “I completely understand… I was the same way when Bucky died. Or, I guess, when I thought he was dead… So I get it, Fitz. I think that’s why Coulson called me in.”

“Or cause he missed you. You and May left, he lost his hand and Simmons… I think he just wanted a little of the good old days back.”

“Sadly, after we find Simmons, I can’t stay… I need some more time. I’m doing much better than I was. But I don’t think I can ever go back to this life full time. I don’t think it’s in the cards anymore.”

~~~

Randolph led them into the castle. They looked around with their flashlights, searching for the carving.

“Yes. Yes, yes,” the Asgardian exclaimed. “I came here for a costume ball. That was the pretext, of course, ‘cause I had heard rumors of travel to the stars. Found it all to be nonsense. But it was a fun party.”

“The carvings?” Coulson questioned, trying to get back to the point.

“Oh, right, right. Of course. So I was here admiring the stone work, and…”

Randolph turned and shined his flashlight on the stones over the door. There was the word, carved in to one of the stones.

“The same as the scroll,” Fitz stated. “Death.”

“Maveth,” Randolph clarified. “Yeah, one of its translations is actually ‘death by punishment’.”

“Could mean no trespassing,” Coulson suggested.

“A Hebrew warning carved in an English castle struck me as odd. Out of place. Seems ancient.”

“But you stopped looking into it?” Y/N asked.

“A man dressed as an owl, of all things. I got him drunk enough to admit that no travel to other worlds was even occurring. Just ritualistic killings.” Everyone continued to look around as Randolph talked. “En, the whole thing stunk of half-baked satanism. Just some fabrications to entice new members. And, well, there were fire dancers. I got distracted.”

“Here’s another one,” Coulson called. “This is why I got rid of all the SHIELD logos on our vehicles. It’s like screaming for attention.”

“About time,” Y/N muttered.

“You know, there’s an ginormous eagle symbol on top of our jet,” Bobbi pointed out.

“Yeah,” Coulson agreed. “Sometime I can’t help myself with the cool.”

Coulson then pushed a stone in the wall, causing part of it to open up. Revealing a passage way.

“You certain about this?” Randolph asked. “It does say death by punishment.”

Fitz and Y/N went in, examining the walls. They made their way down the passage. Eventually it led to a round room, with old equipment in it.

“Okay, well, this wasn’t on the last tour,” Randolph said. “It’s an odd shoe for architecture this period. Definitely built after I was here.”

“Reminds me of the bunker under the Louvre,” Bobbi commented.

“What? There’s no bunker under the Louvre. That’s a joke, right? You messing with me.” Bobbi simply glanced his way and walked to the other side of the room and Y/N chuckled. “Alright, great. Now I’ll have to check.”

Fitz knocked on the metal he was studying. “It’s late 1800s,” he stated.

He pushed the lever up. Suddenly, electricity crackled and the room lit up.

“Still got some life to it,” Coulson commented.

“I hear water,” Bobbi added. “Could be a stream underground, maybe hydroelectric power.”

On the other side of the room, Fitz hit the control panel on the wall and Randolph pulled down another lever. Suddenly, a round floor panel, in the center of the room, disappeared. They all walked up to it, looking down.

“This looks a lot like it was made to hold—“

“The monolith,” Fitz interrupted Bobbi. “This machine was designed to control the portal, to open and close it at will.”

“Do you know that, or is that just what you hope it to be?” Coulson asked.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Sighing, Coulson pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Mack, I need you to load something onto Zephyr One and bring it to us.”

“What exactly am I bringing, sir?” Mack against on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah… you’re not gonna like it.”

~~~

It wasn’t long before Mack and Daisy arrived with Zephyr One and the monolith was being lowered into the hole. Fitz and Randolph were getting the systems working. Bobbi was guiding the container down, monitoring the monolith on the tablet she was holding.

“Zephyr One,” Bobbi called into the comms, “you’re clear to retract.”

“Wow. Room full of ancient gack,” Mack commented as him and Daisy entered the room. “Kind of reminds me of your office, director.”

“Realistically, what are the odds of this thing working?” Daisy asked.

“If we were realistic, we never would have gotten this far,” Coulson said.

“With anything,” Y/N added.

“Well, Andrew Garner thinks I need to be more so,” Daisy said. “He recommended three months observation and counseling before reassessment for Joey. Says I’m reckless.”

“Wonder what he thinks about me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Coulson said. “He probably just meant that—“

“He said you’re desperate,” Daisy added.

“What? He didn’t say that. Did he say that?”

“I can read minds, Phil,” Y/N said. “He definitely said that.”

“You can read minds, too?” Randolph pipped up. “Why is the Tesseract gifting you all these things?”

“Long story.”

“Let me guess,” Bobbi came up to them. “I’m struggling to come to terms with physical limitations and losing my sense of self instead of redefining it.”

“No,” Daisy said. “He didn’t mention you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, he did. That’s what he said.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yeah.”

“Mack,” Fitz called. “Mack, push that lever.” Mack turned to a lever. “No, the one— the one that’s— the one that’s down. The one— the one beside it. Push it.”

Mack did as directed while Fitz did the same thing on the other side of the room. The gears starting turning, the machine started working. The room began to tremble and the monolith turned to liquid.

“Fitz, it’s working!” Y/N exclaimed.

Fitz knelt down beside the whole, pointing a flashlight into it.

“It’s staying open,” he stated. “Light! I need more light!”

The trembling began to get to Daisy. Y/N watched with concern as she groaned and put her head in her hands. She went over.

“Daisy?” She quietly called. “Daisy, what’s happening?”

“We got a problem!” Mack shouted.

“I need some bloody light!” Fitz yelled.

“Fitz!” Coulson called, tossing him a flare gun.

Fitz shot it through the monolith. Daisy held her head as she began panting.

“The gears have locked!” Mack yelled. “Bobbi!”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she saw blood coming out of Daisy’s nose.

“Daisy!” She exclaimed. Y/N caught her as she fainted, slowly lowering her down.

“Skye?” Coulson called, coming up beside them. “Hey.” The trembling and machine stopped. “Skye, are you okay? Skye?”

“It’s Daisy,” Daisy replied softly.

“What?”

“It’s Daisy now,” Y/N responded.

“You’re really having a hard time with this, huh?” Bobbi wondered.

“Damn it,” Coulson muttered. “Yeah. Daisy, hey.” Daisy lifted her head up. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied. Y/N helped her sit up. “I’m better. That pulsing sound was killing me.”

“What pulsing sound?”

“Are you serious? It was deafening.”

“The vibrations,” Y/N whispered.

“What?”

“The vibrations. You can sense them. And there was so many, that it was too much for you. It’s kind of like, how if you’re all thinking at once, especially about a similar think, I can sense it.”

“Maybe, Y/N’s on to something,” Bobbi agreed.

~~~

The team was currently trying to find a way to put the machine back together.

“It’ll just rattle apart again,” Fitz stated. “We have to reinforce the connections.”

“Reinf— look, most of the workings are under the ground,” Mack said. “We just can’t tear the castle down. And actually, we’re lucky the room is shaped this way, or the machine might have shaken it apart on top of us.” The two bent down to try and pick a piece of the machine up.

“Wait. Wait. Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s the point. Quantum harmonic oscillation theory, like the professor said.”

“I know that look,” Bobbi commented.

“It’s a strange shape for this time period because it’s made to resonate, uh, to—to—to—uh— create a-a quantized field within the stone.”

“Fitz, you’re talking, but we’re not totally following,” Coulson said.

“The room is a speaker. The machine is an amplifier. Uh, a sub—subsonic frequency to resonate with the monolith.”

“You saying you figured out a way to fix the machine?” Mack asked.

“No. I’m saying I figured out that—“

“We don’t have to,” Daisy said, glancing at Y/N. “I can do it. I can open the portal myself.”

“Daisy, no,” Y/N said. “It’s too risky.”

“If I can open the portal and help save Simmons, then I’m doing it.”

~~~

The team added a frame with a lot of rope, to lower some into the portal and bring them back.

“Well, turns out we’re standing in the in the middle of the world’s largest subwoofer,” Randolph stated.

“Yeah,” Mack agreed.

“If the point of the machine was to resonate the room at a certain frequency,” Daisy said, “I can do that.”

“And you can replicate it?” Coulson asked.

“Kind of drilled into my brain.”

“And it could kill you,” Y/N stated, not at all happy with this plan.

“How long do you think you can hold it?” Coulson asked.

“Maybe a minute,” Daisy responded.

“If it’s too much, you pull back. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I got this.”

“Here we go,” Bobbi said, reentering the room with a machine. “Camera and data sensors are hard-lined back to us through a cable. No signal loss that way.” She clipped it onto a cable to be lowered into the portal. “If Daisy can hold it, we’ll get a visual of the other side.”

“That’s what we’re looking for,” Coulson said before turning to Daisy. “Alright, you listen to me. You take care of yourself. We lose that probe, nobody cares.”

“Uh, I’m confused,” Randolph spoke up. “What exactly is she planning to do here?”

Allowing her space, everyone moved as Daisy readied herself. She held both arms out to the sides, causing the parts of the old machine to tremble.

“Sorry,” she strained an apology. “Still tuning.”

After getting the right tune, she aimed at the monolith. Causing it to turn into liquid.

“Hold it open as long as you can,” Fitz stated.

Everyone turned to him. He had clipped himself onto the cable. He ran towards the liquid monolith.

“Fitz, no!” Coulson shouted.

But Fitz jumped into the monolith, disappearing.

“I’m going in after him!” Y/N yelled.

“No!” Coulson held her back. “I can’t lose you anymore than I already have.”

“But I’m the best chance to get back if Daisy can’t hold it long enough.”

“You don’t know if you can do that.”

“And you don’t know if I can’t.” They stared at each other. “If Daisy looks like she’s ready to give out, I’m going in. And no one can stop me.”

The trembling and the cable rope moving was causing the structure that was keeping it steady to lose up. Mack, Bobbi, and Y/N all quickly grabbed onto a different piece, trying to keep it steady.

“Damn it. Pull him back,” Coulson ordered, rushing around to where the cable was. “Get him back here.” He pulled the lever and the cable began spin back up.

“I can’t hold it!” Daisy shouted.

“Y/N, don’t! We can’t lose the both of you!”

Before Y/N could jump, Daisy stopped the trembles and the monolith burst into pieces. Every looked down in the hole, hoping, praying, for something to give. Suddenly, Fitz uncovered himself and pulled Simmons up. Daisy fell to the ground, Mack and Y/N rushing to her.

“You did good, tremors,” Mack said. “You did good.”

~~~

Y/N brought everyone onto Zephyr One quickly. Simmons needed to be checked out immediately and Fitz needed to be monitored in case of radiation. They laid Simmons in the containment module, hooked up to IV’s and allowed time to rest. Randolph and Y/N were standing outside as Coulson came to update them.

“They’re gonna be okay,” he informed. “No sign of radiation or infection. Fitz would never have found her, but she saw the flare. We brought a woman back from the dead today.”

“Yes,” Randolph agreed. “And, happily, you kept up your end of the bargain. The portal is destroyed.”

“Thank Daisy for that.”

“Yeah. Agent Coulson… what exactly is Daisy?”

“The call themselves inhumans.”

He looked surprised. “I have not heard that word in a very long time.”

“You know it?” Y/N questioned.

“I know more about them than I do you. You are something else… The Tesseract you said, that’s how you get your abilities?”

“Part of them.”

“Interesting.”

~~~

They were landing at the base when Y/N pulled Coulson aside.

“You’re leaving,” he stated.

“I am,” she replied.

“Anything that I could do to convince you to stay?”

“No… Look, I’m sorry, Phil, that I left and May left. But sometimes you need to tap out. SHIELD can’t be everything in anyone’s life… Even yours.” Y/N pulled him in for a hug. “If you need anything like this again, I’ll be there.” She pushed herself away, walking back towards the portal she opened. “Just don’t go opening anymore portals to other planets any time soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Phil.”

~~~

“But she’s safe? There’s nothing wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” Y/N shook her head.

“Wow,” Tony leaned back. “That’s… that’s—“

“A miracle. An absolute miracle.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to join the team again?” Tony pulled Y/N in-between his legs. “You didn’t miss it at all?”

“I missed them. But not SHIELD. Plus,” she gave him a kiss, “I wouldn’t get to do that as much as I would like.”

Tony hummed. “Good. Can you do it again?”

next chapter >

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waystobuild-blog · 4 years

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Top 7 CN Shows That Would Work Better in Live Action than PPG

So I think everybody’s talked about why CW Powerpuff Girls doesn’t work, whether or not it’s a real thing or not? Who even knows. But while thinking about how this:

is kinda awful for Powerpuff Girls, I got thinking what shows that this style of a reboot would work for. In which it’s live action, the character is depressed and has sort of resentment towards their childhood now and that sort of thing.

So what are the top 7 shows that I think this

Number 7:

Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends

At Number 7 we have Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. Seems fitting that we’d start the list with another one of Craig McCracken’s biggest hits. Why do I think the premise of “Oh, life sucks now and I kinda wasted my childhood” would work for Foster’s? For the plain and simple fact that for a few episodes of the show, there was a focus on Mac growing up and whether or not he should leave his friends at Foster’s behind him. You could play a lot with that concept combined with the live action reboot thing. Maybe an older version of the character is dealing with whether or not to let go of both Bloo and the past and move on with his life. Frankie being a young adult during the time of the original show could also be a pretty instrumental character since it was a matter of living there, caring for the friends, having that job and balancing this life with the life that she had outside of the house.

Not quite a coming of age story but a sort of “Hey, my life has gone nowhere and where could I go with this now? Do I keep the friends I loved and cherished as a child or move onto other things? Is there a way to do both?”

Only thing I wouldn’t want though is CGI monstrosity friends. Those would be kinda the worst…

Number 6:

Okay, let’s actually talk about a real superhero show this time around. Or would this count as a superhero show? Well, they certainly do a lot of cool time travelling so I’m gonna say it’s a superhero show. Of course, I mean Time Squad.

Now if you haven’t guessed, I don’t have the most experience with this show but I know enough to think that this is something that could actually work well. I mean, Otto was a kid who was basically running around all over history protecting the balance of time with a stuck up robot and a dude who is a little too into all of this. Imagine if he just sorta did this for all of his childhood and realizing as a young adult that “Crap, I didn’t really have a childhood.” With the dynamic of the squad, the potential to expand the greater organization as a whole and just all the time travel shenanigans that could happen, I don’t see a reason not to do it.

Plus, CW already has Legends of Tomorrow and that’s awesome so even less likely to screw it up if they’ve already got a model to do it off of right?

Number 5:

The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack

Yo ho ho, it is a sailor’s life for me. And in this sailor’s life we’re coming in with Number 5: The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack. Now this is a bit of an odd choice, right? But hear me out.

Flapjack as a child kinda had only Bubbie and K’nuckles as guides for his life. While they mostly spent their lives at Stormalong Harbor, they also constantly spent their lives looking for Candied Island. What if they never stopped looking and eventually, little kid Flapjack is a grown up now and he’s like “Oh wow. I wanted adventure but I was kinda manipulated to follow this creepy old man’s dreams of candy.” I think going heavy and hard on this sort of found family between them would be kinda fun. How K’nuckles wasn’t the best role model and how they’ve still only got each other in this world, that sort of thing.

Plus, a live action Stormalong would be sooooooo cool.

Number 4:

Ben 10

As the old saying goes, it started when an alien device did what it did, stuck itself upon his wrist with secrets that it hid, now he’s got superpowers he’s no ordinary kid, it’s Ben 10.

And unfortunately in CW’s Ben 10, he’s not a kid who just wants to have fun. Nah, he’s got a lot of emotional stuff to deal with and all of that depressing stuff. Isn’t it great? Now I do think that this could work especially if you work it in where maybe Ben enlisted into the plumbers after his summer vacation and it just kinda escalated from there to the point where here he is now.

Say what you will, but at least with Ben 10, we’ve seen it hit a more grounded and emotional place with Ben 10 Alien Force and Ultimate Alien so I don’t believe that this would be too far of a stretch with how that show worked and a lot of people happened to really like those iterations of the show.

Granted, I actually do want a CW styled Ben 10, but less edgy Arrow style and more along the lines of The Flash, but I’d still take this too.

And now before we get into the top 3, let’s get into a few honorable mentions.

First up, we’ve got Steven Universe. Now honestly, this could work really well, the only issue with that is that we’ve kinda already seen this story told and that was with Steven Universe Future. Good stuff and a lot of potential, but we’ve seen it and I don’t think we need to see it again with a live action coat of paint.

Next up there’s Codename Kids Next Door. Honestly, I think the only real spinoff we need for Kids Next Door is Galactic. That’s it. Anything else is unnecessary. Still, with this sort of concept an older KND who has been decommissioned and feels like there’s something missing in their lives that they just don’t understand would be really cool. Although maybe that would work as like a movie or special or somethin’ I don’t know.

And finally for the last of the honorable mentions we’ve got Teen Titans. While I am trying to keep this list to CN Originals, I couldn’t help but bring this one up. How Long is Forever is one of my all-time favorite episodes of the 2003 series so I think seeing a series taking place in that timeline or something similar would be a lot of fun maybe for like a miniseries or something. And honestly, anything’s better than Titans.

With those three out of the way, back to the list.

Number 3:

The Life and Times of Juniper Lee

In a world full of monsters and demons, June is the only one who sees them. This is the Life and Times of Juniper Lee and it makes number three on my list.

Now, like Time Squad, I didn’t watch much of this show. But what I do know about this show is that June is cool and she’s got this whole legacy and destiny by being the newest Te Xaun Ze, which are basically the magical protectors of her town. Only problem, and why I think that this direction for this show would actually be kinda cool, is the whole thing that the Te Xaun Ze is never allowed to leave the town at any point in their lives and oh boy, you could actually go really hard on that with this format since it’s literally built into the show.

Juniper Lee all grown up and just straight up depressed because she’s got the cool powers and grabs all the monsters but everyone around her has moved on in their lives. Friends have gone off to college and started all their lives and she’s got nothing but her family in Orchid Bay. You’d have a story of someone who once was big on their destiny who has accepted it but wishes that it wasn’t theirs anymore. I do know the show dealt with this a bit but with a new continuity and an older version of the character you really could just go in and deep on this.

I stand by that this would actually be pretty cool and kinda want it. Honestly, I like this idea so much that I wasn’t sure whether to put this in the number three or the number two spot, but y’know what? The next show told me a little secret that gave it the edge.

Number 2:

The Secret Saturdays

That’s right, it’s the Secret Saturdays.

Zak Saturday went all around the world with his parents discovering ancient cryptids, protecting the world and everything. He got some cool siblings in Fiskerton, Komodo and Zon. And then to add on top of that that he’s also the reincarnation of an ancient cryptid set to rule and control all the cryptids in the world? Yeah, that’ll do it. Definitely not the type of life he asked for and kid went through a lot because of it especially after losing those powers and apparently getting them back if we’re to count the Omniverse crossover TGIS to be canon.

But having parents like Zak’s, everything with the community of Secret Scientists and not really having many friends his own age or well, his own species will do that.

Exploring Zak and maybe Argost coming back for powers he might not want anymore and learning to embrace his destiny while also trying to patch up the Saturday family would be awesome.

Number 1:

Dexter’s Laboratory

Now while I know we already have a live action Dexter and it was an incredible hit, I- Wait, not the same show.

Ahem, Dexter’s Laboratory makes the top of this list. Partially because of it being PPG’s sister series but also partially because of the whole thing of there’s a lot you could do with Dexter’s character in terms of depression. If someone with such a high intellect were to somehow lose it all or just in some way, never really got forward in life, that would do it. Dexter could be a type of character that’s too stuck inside his own head in order to move forward. Alternatively, maybe Dexter is highly successful but has found there’s something missing in life or something. I dunno.

But whichever way you decide to go with Dexter’s character, you could have Dee Dee be pretty much the opposite of that. Maybe she’s found herself a place in life that she’s content with and Dex doesn’t understand why but wants it. I think going deep on this sort of emotional aspect of his life while also having all sorts of fun crazy science stuff would be a good watch.

All in all, gimme a Dexter’s lab show but we gotta make sure he keeps some form of an accent. No accent is a dealbreaker.

Although, I think that at the end of the day, animation should really just stay animated and that we don’t need to go live action for anything. All of these ideas I’ve presented, I’d of course rather prefer as cartoons with a more balanced tone more than anything but I figured with the announcement of a PPG show, this would be a silly but fun idea to talk about rather than ranting about it like most have. Granted, I’ve got some rants of my own since I still think it’s a bad idea. Haha. But you know how it goes.

At any rate those are all the shows I think would make better CW PPG style reboots than CW PPG. When it comes to the edginess and potential for drama, I feel these shows fit the bill better than the innocent, buttkicking action that was the Powerpuff Girls.

But what do you all think? Do you have any shows in mind that I haven’t mentioned? Do you think I’ve opened Pandora’s Box and given The CW more awful ideas?

Now, this was originally a YouTube video so you can probably see that in the way that this post, especially the ending was written, but I just still don’t really have the energy to edit stuff so have this post instead. It’s something I really wanted to discuss and just decided, hey, why not make it a Tumblr post?

#Cartoon network #PowerPuff Girls #live action remake #cw powerpuff girls #Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends #time squad #The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack #ben 10 #steven universe #steven universe future #kids next door #codename kids next door #codename knd #knd #galactic kids next door #Teen Titans #The Life and Times of Juniper Lee #secret saturdays #dexter's laboratory

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praisemyrelijin-blog · 5 years

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benevolent ; j.jk ; chapter i

↠ series | chapter one ; ↠ word count | 6,021 words ↠ pairing | spiderman!jeon jeongguk x venom!reader ↠ genre | angst ; fluff ; mature themes ; explicit language ; smut ; alternate universe ↠ synopsis | Jeongguk first suspected you when you spontaneously burnt yourself with a seemingly dignified purpose on the Bunsen Burner, making Professor Kim scold you and hold your hand up so he could inspect it, only to see nothing; not even an ashy mark to prove that you indeed held your hand over an open gas-flame He never expected the reasons for your self-torture to be because you have an evil symbiote from space attached to you… well, the more you know. ↠ notes | #repost

⇥ masterlist ⇥ benevolent nav.

It started off when your father decided to get a parasite attached to him, although Venom claims he is anything but that, you say otherwise. And technically Venom’s victim at the time tackled your Dad, but that’s no excuse for your tortured mentality and the distorted male voice that you has to wake up to every morning.

“Wake up, ugly.” You grunt in reply to Venom in your head, “Did Mum know she was giving birth to such an ugly parasite?” You sneer in reply to the symbiote while stretching your limbs lazily under the covers, “Obviously, she saw the ultrasounds of you.” You flick yourself in the head, not flinching while doing so since you were used to your methods of self-torture in order to hurt the parasite inside of your head. “How did you not jump out of me again?” If Venom had a form other than you, he would of shrugged his shoulders. “When your Father mated with your Mother, I gained some weaknesses and lost some, my weakness to sounds like that left when the sperm reached t-” “Oh my god, you can shut up now.”

You received concerned stares from your roommates when you left your room and they saw you talking to yourself, but you were used to them; Talking to Venom was a regular and you would rather hang with the parasite than friends that pretended to know what was wrong with you - not that there was anything wrong with y- “You have plenty wrong with you.” You grit your teeth when he interrupts your train of thought again, “Shut up, you don’t have to remind me every hour.”

You held your head low, not wanting to see your other roommate’s judgemental look that usually coloured her features when she would catch you talking to Ven - yourself. Slamming the bathroom door closed and turning the lock, you turn to your reflection in the mirror to speak with your Venomized-self. Venom smiles at you with smugly, the female-version of himself revealed in the mirror, “Hey, ugly.” You speak to him with a mocking smile, motioning for him to leave your reflection so you can see just how bad last night got to you.

You really wished Venom didn’t remove himself from your reflection.

“I know,” He taunts happily, head popping out of your body with only a long chord of black symbiote to keep him attached to his host, “Ugly as fuck.” You didn’t bother to counter his attack, because he was so fucking right. “What the fuck happened?” Venom looked at you with a smirk before shaking his head, “Spider pushed you around a bit, the usual.” You scoff, “He beat your ugly ass, didn’t he?” Venom bared his teeth threateningly at you, making you hiss at him in retaliation.

“Just get ready, I don’t need an attack from two horrifying things within the span of three hours.” You roll your eyes as you pull open the drawer next to you to pull out your toothbrush. “So you admit your weak ass got beat?” You thrust your arm out to the cupboard behind you to rummage for the toothpaste and another black string shot out of your finger to attach it to the paste and pull it back to rest in your palm.

You were met with a growl.

“Good morning, class.”

The class bowed to the Professor, “Good morning, Professor Kim.” Kim Namjoon sent a dimpled grin to the class, winking at the girls sitting near the front. “It’s a shame he’s married.” Venom comments with a sigh, making you roll your eyes. “The things that man does to me.” “You are so gross.” You spoke under your breath, sitting down and opening your manilla folder filled to the brim with your overdue science projects.

“What was that, Miss ___?” You freeze, looking up slowly to be met with the face of Professor Kim peering at you curiously. “Nothing, Professor.” You answer with a faux smile, making him nod and turn back to the blackboard. “Oh my god, oh my god. Do it again! He fucking looked at u-” You purse your lips in annoyance at the distorted voice filling your head and shake your head, not noticing the stare that was directed to you from a couple of stations back.

Jeon Jeongguk was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your appearance as you seemingly talked to yourself. “Dude, what are you staring at?” Park Jimin asked inquisitively, occasionally looking up from his notes to Professor Kim to catch if he wrote any other instructions down. “Oh my god,” Kim Taehyung gushed, pushing his fake spectacles up the bridge of his nose in amazement, “Is your spider-sense tingling?” Jeongguk glares at his best friend intimidatingly. “No.” Jeongguk says, before sighing as he feels the hairs on his arms stand, “Yes.”

Taehyung gasps spectacularly, catching the attention of everybody; Jung Hoseok, Kim Jisoo, Choi Mi-Hee - you. Jeongguk hushes him with a few harsh blows with his manilla folder, “Hush up, Taehyung!” You roll your eyes at the racket and turned to face the front. Taehyung was practically shaking in excitement when everyone went back to minding their own business, “That is so fucking cool, holy shit, what the fuck!” Jimin glared at the younger with malice, trying to uphold his positive reputation as class president.

“Quiet down,” He hisses, “I can’t risk being seen with you.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, pouting slightly and placing his chin into his palm. “No-one cares, Jimin. Acknowledge me as your best friend.” Jimin shakes his head, pushing his real glasses up the bridge of his nose, “You’re too much of an embarrassment to be known even as an acquaintance of the legendary Park Jimin.” Taehyung punches the class president in the arm, resulting in said person to giggle quietly. Jeongguk snorts at the banter and tightens his sanitary gloves.

“Someone is staring at you, my dude.” You wrinkle your nose at the nickname, tightening your grip on the equipment needed for following the instructions Professor Kim gave you. “I am not your ‘dude’.” Venom sighs in discontent, “Whatevs, my homie, that still doesn’t hide the fact that Jeon Jeongguk is staring at you like you kicked his dog.” You couldn’t help but cringe at his overuse of slang words in that sentence, “Please stop pretending that you’re cool.” Venom snorts at your plead.

“Chill, mamacita-” “Stop, oh my gosh-” “Fam, I gotchu-” “For fuck’s sake.” You could practically sense Venom grinning and opening his big mouth to answer back, but before he could, you turned on the gas for the already prepared Bunsen Burner on your workstation and held your hand over it, making you wince as Venom screeches out in protest. “____ ___!” You heard Professor Kim scream out, making you instinctively pull your hand back out of shock. You watched as your lab partner turned off the burner with shaking hands, “Miss ____, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kim asks with concerned eyes, taking your hands in his so he could observe how bad the injury was, “You do know that this is very worrying fo-” He cuts himself off and stares at your fully healed palm in amazement.

You grin sheepishly and carefully take your hand from out of the gaping Professor’s, rubbing your arm through your lab coat. “Uh, apologies, Professor Kim. May I be excused? I haven’t been feeling well.” Namjoon nods, still dumbstruck from his discovery, “O-Of course, Miss ___.” He stammers whilst nodding, “You may leave.” You bow down graciously to him before taking off your lab coat and hanging it on your station’s coat hooks, stuffing your books into your bag and slinging said item over your shoulder.

“Look what you did, idiot.” Venom teases you as you walk out of the lab, making you accidentally-but-not-really hit your hip on the frame of the door. “Bitch.” You close your eyes and lean against the lockers in the hall, “Fuck you, parasite.” Venom’s grin appeared in your mind, making you groan out. “No homo, a-hole.” You continue walking down the hallway, “I am burning myself with a lighter when we get home.” “Take a chill pill, son.”

Jeon Jeongguk watched you walk out of the lab with interest; his thoughts wandering. “What’s so bad about her?” He questions aloud, making Taehyung and Jimin shrug as if a girl trying to melt her hand off was a natural occurrence. Jeongguk huffs, crossing his arms on the workstation and stuffing his face within them, “What’s got you in the shits?” Taehyung questions, his office chair squeaking as he spun around in circles until he faced the boy. “Is it your spider-sense?” Jimin groans, swatting Taehyung in the head with the hand not holding a beaker.

“Shut up about that shit, man.” Jimin mutters, “What if someone hears?” Taehyung shrugs, “Then we’ll get Spider-dude over here to go apeshit on the poor person, what else?” Taehyung whines when Jimin smacks him in the head once more, “Stop.” Taehyung cries out, scowling in pain. “You’re injuring my beautiful brain and you need that if you want to pass this project.” Jimin smirks, “Actually…”

Taehyung sits up in his seat, interest flickering in his amber eyes. “What, you fucktard? Spit it out!” Jimin raises his hand and Taehyung flinches, sheepishly smiling. “Please?” Jimin brings his hand down and instead chooses to run it through his dark black hair, locks dishevelling and swirling to give his mane a winded look. “I’m actually paired with _____ in this project.” Jeongguk sits up at the mention of your name.

“What? No fair!” Taehyung whimpers, eyes sparkling with a cute mixture of defiance and mischief. “Switch with me?” Jimin shakes his head, hand now busy with writing the essential notes for said partner project due in a month. “I can’t, not only is _____ really funny-” “-I’m funny!-” “-but she actually helps with the project.” Jimin glances at Taehyung, who already looks like his mind is somewhere other than inside of his head, “Unlike some people.”

Jeongguk was concerned; not only for Taehyung’s mentality, but for Jimin. “Hyung, do you know ____?”

Jimin nods casually, bowing to Namjoon as he walked by. “She’s in my Korean Language class, we sit together all the time.” Jeongguk twists his lips into a scowl before flopping his head back into his arms, a muffled-but-audible groan emitting from his mouth. “I know.” Taehyung gave a high-pitched complaint when he heard the younger release the sound, “Talk about selfish.” Another yelp of pain met Jeongguk’s ears and he couldn’t help but spare a smile.

“JK.” Taehyung sang after a while, shaking the sulking boy with a grin. “Are you going on another Spider-Trip tonight?” Jeongguk nods subtly, well, Taehyung interprets the vibrations his body makes as an attempted act of nodding. “Sweet!” Namjoon hushes the excited boy with amusement, probably mistaking the enthusiasm for something Science related. “It’s great to see you so dedicated in class today, Taehyung!” Taehyung shoots up from his slouched position in his seat to send a faux smile to the kind professor, “Thank you, sir.” Namjoon nods in acknowledgement before turning to pay attention to Jisoo.

“It’s great to see you so dedicated in class today, Taehyung!” Jimin mocked spitefully under his breath, “‘Dedicated’ my ass.” Taehyung turned to grin at Jimin cheekily, “Did you say something, almighty Park Jimin?” Jimin scoffs, “Kiss my ass.” “Gladly, pro homo, bro bro.” Jeongguk sits up at the comment, an eyebrow raised in question. “Isn’t it ‘No homo’?” Taehyung snorts before pursing his lips and facing the confused boy. “It’s 2018, Jeongguk-ssi. We support gay-rights in this house, get with the program!” A few people behind them chuckled, some even cheered, fuelling Taehyung’s shit-eating grin.

“Jimin, you’re my guy in the chair tonight.”

“No fai-”

“Suck it, shithead.”

“Wait, I thought you were joking!” You were currently sitting in your room, cross-legged on your duvet with a small cigarette lighter in your petite fingers. “This is what you get when you want to be a little bi-” You suddenly felt a cold wetness slide inside of you, making you shiver in disgust. The symbiote removed itself from your body and glided along your bedding to attach itself to your wall. You groan out, “Venom, don’t be an ass.”

The thick liquid rose up off of the wall, only to shake sideways, as if it was saying ‘no’. It then motions towards the lighter in your hand, making you scowl and open the window to throw it onto the balcony and accompany seven other lighters. “It’s gone, fucktard.” You say, turning towards the satisfied black blob on your vanilla white walls. It seems to be hesitant before it slithers back towards you, sliding up the leg of your pants and dissolving into your skin. “Why are you so mean to me?” You roll your eyes at the over dramatic observation and plop back onto your sheets, “Isn’t Jimin coming over tonight?” You sit up at the mention of your Class President and best friend, “Shit, the assignment.”

Venom chuckles meaninglessly, “It must suck to be you.” “It must suck to be brainless.” His gasp is only one of the reasons why your lips upturned a fraction, the other reason being that Jimin was going to be inside of your room again tonight; he was going to be there. Jimin is the only one - besides your family, of course - that knows of your ‘infestation’. “Are you seriously commentating on everything you do?” Venom asks with a probable grin, “Oh my fucking god you totally are!”You hiss in annoyance, contemplating on whether or not you should pull out the back up lighter in the back pocket of your jeans. “Please don’t.”

“What time is Jimin coming over again?” You ask Venom, eyes searching on the calendar settled on your bedside table. “Seven?” Venom hums in answer, making you nod your head and look at the clock hanging on your closet door, the face reading ‘3:47’. “Okay, we’ve got plenty of time to clean up the dorm.” “The dorm?” Venom echoes earnestly when you mention cleaning, “As in, like, Minah’s room as well? And Su-A’s?” You roll your eyes at the weariness evident in his voice before shaking your head, “Thank god, I would’ve thrown a fit.”

Cleaning the dorms didn’t actually take as long as you thought it would’ve; Su-A washed her clothes and Minah filled the dishwasher earlier that day, so all that you had to do was vacuum the living area and room and turn the dishwasher on. Once the clanging of dishes started, you melted into the cracks of the now-clean sofa with a sigh of content, you had accomplished everything and had at least 40 minutes to spare. “Damn, I’m stuffed.” You scowl at the unwanted intrusion in your mind, “Yeah,” You agree sarcastically, “nice cleaning, parasite.”

“Shut up and go clean your stink ass,” Venom gravels, removing himself from your body so you could go and clean yourself. You stand and stretch, yawning while doing so, “Good call, Venom.” You saw that the symbiote had already left to explore the empty dorm rooms, “If Jimin comes before I finish, be a babe and answer it please.” A crash from upstairs answered you and you smiled before walking towards the shared bathroom to wash yourself up.

Venom wandered through the silent house, occasionally hearing the sounds of the falling water drops from the shower and the echoes of your attempts at singing drama OSTs, he slithered around the hallways and up walls with excitement. Eager to find something, Venom dribbled himself through the cracks under the doors and searched through drawers, ‘Oh, what’s this?’ He questions, is he had a face a smirk would’ve tugged at his lips as he picked up the purple egg-shaped item inside of Minah’s bedside drawer, ‘What’s this button…?’ the egg sprang to life, multiple vibrations coursing through and shaking the symbiote.

Venom panics, his sludge shaking with hesitance and he presses the button again. The egg stills, and the doorbell rings, making Venom thank the gods above for the distraction. Venom travelled out of the drawer and into the hallway, taking the turns that was embedded into his memories - well, your memories - and into the open space leading towards the door. He crawls up towards the door handle and wraps himself around it, twisting until he hears the spring pop.

“Hello?” Jimin mutters out into the open, peering around the door with suspicion, smiling when he catches sight of the symbiote attached to the door. “Hey, Venom.” The black alien substance lunges towards Jimin, catching the boy by surprise. Venom sunk into Jimin’s skin easily, and Jimin welcomed the cold chill that ran up his spine when his system got used to the foreign intruder, “You seem exc-” “Get me away from this place.” Jimin snorts when he hears the distorted voice form into one expressing horror, “The things I have seen-” A shiver was heard, “-disgusting.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jimin questions with amusement, sliding his shoes off and closing the door with a silent click of the lock, “The boys dorm is so much worse.” “Do they have vibrating purple eggs in their bedside drawers?” Jimin sank down into the pillows of the couch with uncomfort colouring his features, “Holy shit, you have been scarred.” Jimin could sense Venom nodding, glazed eyes squinting with distaste.

“I mean, I’ve seen scary things, but that shit’s fucking terrifying.”

“What are you guys talking about?” You question, stepping out of the bathroom fully clothed with a towel in hand, towel-drying your hair. “Is Venom complaining again?” Jimin tries not to cringe when the foreigner slides out of his body and crawls towards you to melt into your veins, “Holy- you know what I just realised?” Jimin looks at you in question when you sit next to him on the couch, “Venom’s like a parasitical hoe.”

Jimin chokes, a dry laugh threatening to climb up his throat as you explained further into your theory; “Like, whenever he leaves me he always takes someone else’s body and uses i- oh my god, does this mean you’re technically cheating on me?” Venom’s head emerges from her body, held up by a black strand, “I’m not cheating on you if we aren’t even together.” Jimin raises an unimpressed eyebrow, “Venom, you hoe.” Venom scoffs, “Stop slut-shaming me, you’re the one with the nice ass.”

Jimin looks at you quizzically, before letting his stare wander back to Venom. “Um, thanks?” Venom nods, “Don’t mention it.” You stand, motioning for Jimin to follow you into your [now] clean bedroom, “Come, we need to get started on the project.” Jimin groans out but doesn’t disobey, standing and following you like a lost puppy, even though he practically knows the layout of your dorm like the back of his hand.

Jimin closes the door silently before throwing his arms around you, bringing you close to his body and embracing you in a soft hug. You try to hide your grin, but you know you’ve failed when Venom’s head finds his way to hover behind Jimin and wriggle his eyebrows suggestively, sharp teeth set into a big grin. You and Jimin were almost the same height, your head stopping short a few millimetres before his, but that seemed like enough for him to tease you about it.

“You staying over tonight?” Jimin shakes his head, an apologetic pout covering his features. “I have computer tech with Jeongguk tonight.” You nod in understanding, waving off his pouting eyes. “I’m sorry.” You laugh, “It’s fine, Chim. Just don’t overwork yourself.” Jimin sighs, muttering out an ‘okay’ and settling himself into your sheets, “I still feel real bad, what if Spiderman is an ass tonight? Who’s going to look after you if Venom’s ass gets beat again?” “Excuse you?” Said person speaks, a scoff sounding from the floating head.

“I don’t know about you, but Venom’s been bad-mouthing you a lot, and I won’t be surprised if he decides to not heal you.” Venom makes a face and disappears, letting himself become one with your body and mindset once more. “Jimin’s harassing me.” “He’s got a point, though.” You say with a teasing lilt to your voice, “You are an ass.” You could practically hear the clogs working in Venom’s witty mind, waiting for a smart ass comeback. “Well, there are different types of ass.”You almost choke on your saliva when he says that, “Your ass, and Jimin’s ass. Hobo, and Pro. I would like to think of myself as Jimin’s ass.”

You hum, impressed. “That was actually a pretty good analogy.” “Thank you.”

You settle next to Jimin on your duvet, sinking into the sheets easily with a content look on your face. “Did you bring the stuff for the project? What is the project about?” Jimin sighs, shaking his head. “You’re so clueless.” You didn’t bother to object, knowing that he was right. “And you can’t do shit about that.” You shoot back lazily, rolling onto your stomach to face him. “Are we finding a cure for cancer, or something?” Jimin purses his lips, shaking his head in disappointment, “If only, we could actually be helping the world, but no. Finding out the difference between seven different laundry detergents is essential, absolute bullshit.” He whines, allowing his head to rest on the small of your back.

“You’re lucky.” Jimin concludes quietly, taking your hand and playing with your fingers. “You actually get to do something to save the world, while I’m here looking at microscopic images of some samples of Venom that are probably from his ass.” You chuckle, sitting up so his head could rest on the soft haven of your thighs, “You, Park Jimin, save my ass every time I get into trouble; So you’re practically saving a superhero, what does that make you?” You question softly, carding your fingers through his fluffy black hair. “Anpanman?” Jimin pouts, taking your hand and kissing your wrist, “A human.”

You both got at least a quarter of your work done, writing down your comparisons and sending copies of the notes to each other via email. Finally, it was time for Jimin to take his leave and go to help Jeongguk out with his work. “How do you not get tired?” You ask, walking him to the front door of the dorms, “Of being awesome, and all that?” Jimin sends a teasing grin your way, “You get used to it, eventually.” You softly punch his bicep.

“You know,” You pout mockingly, “You’re so mean to your younger friend, you need to lower your ego.” Jimin spares you a small giggle, body shaking in amusement at your comment. “You need an ego-boost yourself, gorgeous.” He teases, bopping your nose with the tip of his finger. You send an ugly scowl his way, moving forward to pinch the skin of his torso.

He catches you by the wrist, pulling you in for another warm embrace. “Be careful out there tonight, okay?” Jimin then holds you at arms length to place a soft kiss on your nose, make you wrinkle it at the unfamiliar gesture of affection. “Yes, sir.” Jimin smiles and ruffles your hair, “And if you do get hurt tonight, do not hesitate to break the window on my floor.” You nod in agreement once more, “If that Spiderman hurts you in anyway, I will personally beat his ass.” You giggle, an eye roll threatening to appear, “You act as if you know the kid, resident superhero.”

Jimin only sends you a weary eye smile; black hair falling into his eyes, black turtleneck hugging his torso warmly and grey slacks hanging loosely off of his hips, not to mention the squared glasses dangerously close to falling off of the bridge of his nose. He utters very few words before waving and walking towards the boys dormitory: “You never know.”

⇀ ask my muse!

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ladyofmind · 5 years

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October Wrap Up

Hey everyone! Sorry for the silence... been busier than even I can keep up with, and also found out that the last Music Monday I had a few weeks back- well it didn’t post so I was quieter than I intended to be...

But it is NaNoWriMo time now, so there should be time to settle in and post like mad to update you all, and write my 50k! After all, I have no plans to be anywhere this November. Fingers crossed nothing else goes crazy on me.

Without further chatter, game answers after the jump.

#CharactersHell

1- Rooms for rent above an active and lively bar, for as long as you like* (*Mgmt not responsible for any damage from the cat or other beings if you leave your door open/unlocked.)

2- Not in the expected way. Most of the monsters are the human Antags. The antags are motivated by jealousy and obsession. Other characters have their own personal demons, or else they aren’t really human...

3- Not real monsters, not really. The Antags are over the top in their issues, but they are rarer. Everybody has some kind of issue though.

4- Frost? That grumpy man is actually a bit of a softy inside… If not, Sly mixes up some ugly looking boozy milkshakes that are pretty tasty!

5- That would be the Antag. Tim is a sort of threat in waiting, one that slips around a bit like the snake he is. The incidents he is involved in are hard to figure out until after it happens...

6- My world is no different than our world. There is divinity in the form of God etc, but it really plays no part in my story.

7- Same world, same dire predictions. Only difference is, it’s a brothel, so one can assume they may already be in hell…

8- Most interesting job? That’s a toss up… It’s an interesting place to work in general, but I’m torn between Woods being in a band, or Tweety, the one in somewhat charge of all the other looney tunes….

9- Best Co-worker award goes to Malta. There is no one else likely to push, prod, and sometimes accidentally beat ya up to have a good time, while respecting limits. Unlike the constant party pusher Bebe, Malta can tell when you need the push, and when you just need a cuppa tea.

10- Most of the time, the networking person is Tweety, as everyone knows her and gets connected by her. But for this, I have to give it to the guys. Nira has a lot of connections from before bar life, music man Martin is always networking and improving his career, and Frost? Well the giant makes friends thru fights. Might not be a lot, but they are the best connections…

11- This is a little bit of everyone really. Malta, Frost, and others don’t do it intentionally, it’s more of a language barrier. Sly is the master of deflection to the point you still don’t know very much. That may be why Tweety sees him as an equal, as everyone assumes they know her, but they never know a thing. She doesn’t lie, just turns things around on ya.

12- Woods is about/has turned professional famous musician, depending on which book you read… Tweet is just really good at talking to people and getting everywhere from it.

13- Antags- Sofia has some fans yes. She’s a strange boss with a back story & has some loyal workers until she does things to mess that up (her MO). Tim on the other hand? Well, he’s liked for what his skills & the more unstable/broken sorts love him to obsession.

14- The Antags are good for backstabbing! Tim and Sophia work together for the mostly common goal, but in places there’s differences. For instance, a rigged auction is supposed to end in Tim’s favor. Doesn’t mean S can’t make more money off of him if he wants it that badly…

15- Tim gives me the creeps. There’s this thing he does that makes me feel violated too, so I know it will be good in the end… I just need recovery time after him.

16- Tweet isn’t monstrous… but it is a pain sometimes, writing for an always happy sort, even if you want to have her fight back against things.

17- Tim is as direct as a blunt log to the face can be. He’s more bull in the china shop. Sophia is the mastermind, making her puppets dance in that web way. You can 100% assume she’s behind something, but you’re hard pressed to prove it…

18- With Tim, smarts is the easy part. It’s Sophia you match wits with, if you have to at all…

19- Woods isn't really vicious… maybe some biting comments while holding a grudge. Tweet is always the “kill 'em with kindness” type

20- I think the side chars are very active in their own ways to push this story forward. Some are even pushy as hell!

21- Ok, so Frost isn't exactly wrathful towards the MC so much as ornery and wrathful at everyone… but he does blame Tweety for flaring his ulcer with her ideas.

22- Not all that hard for me, as I don’t force my characters into doing things they wouldn’t do anyway. I try to learn who they are first and go from there.

23- I don’t really use red herrings, not intentionally. There may be one or two accidentally...

24- So zen! I throw on some earphones blaring my playlist and forget that people exist. The absolute worst is when you’re writing so well, and then someone scares you by interrupting you!

25- I’m not really into the sweets. Once in a while, but mostly my writing runs off potato chips or pretzels. Crunchy and salty balances the romance writing well!

26- #FF #followfriday with interesting stories by: @nomdejillian @TGNeal @SkeptiCybrarian @marshawritesit

27- Halloween was fun when I was a kid. Now I enjoy making Halloween-y cookies and giving them out to people I like, since we never have trick or treaters where I live. One year per the Halloween cookie costume rules, I dressed in all grey with a bell on… Jingle bell rock ya’ll!

28- Not a prankster, so not very wrathful at all. Halloween isn’t a big deal near me.

29- Oh I think I did that already! False arrest of the sweet one anyone?

30- So this is a boost for our Co-Host @manual_arbanassi! His amazing, well rounded character work in #Tiogair is great. Plus he totally shares that character building with all of us with both this game and #CharactersTell!

31- After work where I have to avoid a kids book sale while having a bills closing day? Relax and maybe watch a Halloween-y movie. Really, I am more excited about #NaNoWriMo starting at midnight.

#SciFiNaNoPrep

1- Hi, Nicole here. I was fairly certain for #NaNo I would continue my #RedLetters #series, but this Mars idea won’t let go. It has an outline, so maybe this prep will help me change course?

2- For this Mars idea? 50K or whatever it takes to finish this idea. Definitely looking to start it.

3- It’s very similar in that it’s our Earth, and an exploration of the Mars planet we think we know.

4- The not so very distant future. My research says I need at least 4 years, so mid to late 2020’s

5- Planet Mars for about 90% of it. There’s a little Earth training time, and possibly other planet flash backs.

6- Both generally advanced Earth tech, and some stuff for Mars that feels like #spoilers (plus I need to sort that out –Note to self on more #prep!)

7- Haven’t quite named them… but I do know there’s some diversity and a female MC/narrator

8- That’s definitely a #spoiler! I can say that it’s a “greet the way you’re greeted” thing…

9- Oh, I’m showing my age here for sure… but like Sailor Mercury from Sailor Moon or the original Power Rangers Billy the blue ranger come to mind… for their smarts and calmness.

10- There are both Earth “children” and adults, plus some Martian life.

11- Earth customs, sure, all the standard ones. Martian customs fall into “show you, you decide what happens” things. Because the message/meanings are important sometimes.

12- #FF #followfriday with #scifi writers: @RagingCyclone @authorASMcGowan @mae_mckinnon and a bunch of people at #wipworldbuilders

13- I would say somewhere in between, as it largely depends on which side you see it from. Just because it’s Utopia to one may be dystopia to another. Similar to the grass being greener on the other side theory.

14- Earth politics are the same. Mars doesn’t have politics in the same way. They have more rule, order and understanding.

15- Mars is more science and study, so they are more guardians less lawyers in that sense. They have systems for everything, but mostly they do not have crime within their own ranks. Outsiders are a different story.

16- Oh lots! I am taking some of the known things about planets and life and tying it together to give credible conspiracy theory if you will. Might even include Nikola Telsa…

17- As Mars is a drier planet- with more wind storm, less water, the idea of hydro anything doesn’t work. Plus they have a better greenhouse process that makes planting in the ground useless.

18- There is really no focus on currency in this idea, as shooting for different themes, money being the root of trouble not one of them.

19- ATV type things above ground, underground tunnels with everything from walking to hovering transports.

20- I enjoy a reasonable time travel story. Not the type that appear there just to be there, or where the tech that travels person is hokey. More like Timeless, Krypton, or Doctor Who on good days.

21- On Mars there is advanced tech where medicine as we know it is obsolete. A little more nanites and lasers a lot less oral pills and rectal anythings.

22- Mars is a dry windy planet without water, in comparison to Earth’s visible habitats.

23- Mars grows things without name at the moment, but it is edible, like all things people make do with.

24- Standard Martian wear is something of a lab coat but resistant to its environmental elements.

25- Anything can be a weapon in untrained hands…

26- #FF upcoming writers

27- Earthlings go to school and are trained for space exploration. Martians learn by doing.

#RomanceNaNoPrep

1- Hi, Nicole here. Library worker by day/night/weekend, writer every other chance. Currently two and a half books into my #RedLetters series. So far all I’ve ever written falls into womens fiction category.

2- For Red Letters? 50K is just going to start it. They end up being easily 80-100K, even if its more like 200K words that have to be split into two different books...

3- Romance is my sub genre, as it reads more like womans fiction first. But the other books in the series cover more of the slice of life/journey stuff. This one would have a heavier romantic tone.

4- I love a good believable romance. Whether it starts off as a one night stand or getting to know each other first, the characters have to be real and well rounded. Funny is a plus but not cartoony or asks me to assume too much.

5- Depends on the mood. If I need a little escape, a sweet romance will do the trick. But if I need to be reminded of what it’s like to be human outside of working too much or need a serious escape, steamy tends to have a better grip on me.

6- #RedLetters started as an RP… don’t know where the 💜 of romance came from, but I’ve been writing about it as long as I can remember. Helps that hubs & I have been together 10+ yrs & we’re good friends first. Learned lots about relationships from that alone.

7- The main characters in #RedLetters has always been Naomi, better known as Tweety and the musician Woods. There is a whole host of other characters that are important, and Greg may become an MC… if he stays Greg of course.

8- Well, it’s not really a special meaning, so much as an inside joke. Tweety got her nickname from an outfit she wore, and a drunk-ish Cockney woman. The rest as they say is history…

9- Honestly? Kind of a fan of Emma Stone. Looks sweet and innocent, but can be sassy and a bit sexy too. All around package, inside and out I think.

10- I might have the Evil Other Woman cliche… At least on the surface. Hoping the history fleshes this out to be a full story not just a mad woman scorned thing...

11- Big fan of sassy heroines (aka no weak and fainty unrealistic women) and maybe a touch of the second chance at love thing…

12- #FF #followfriday @MaeBaumWriter @klimov_author have been #prepping with me since day one... plus I like the stuff @K_A_Grayson does in her rockstar #romance...

13- When they first met, Tweety was about 21/22. Woods was 24/25. When they meet again about 5 years later, Woods is 30, Tweety will have a birthday in that book.

14- The characters are struggling 20's. Woods is higher in class while trying to do it himself. Tweety's poorer & finding herself. Inside the bar/club, social status doesn’t matter, & in some cases, makes you less important the more important you assume you are.

15- Woods sister approves, eventually. Tweety doesn’t talk to her parents, instead relying on Frost the manager to be her father figure. After a good bit of threatening during a chat with Woods, Frost approved too.

16- In this book? Friendly enemies. Tweety is not happy to see him, but she is never a rude sort, more the kill with kindness type. Woods is more eager to charm her into regretting her choices and occasionally bringing up the past, even if facts are distorted...

17- What brings Tweet and Woods together? A certain book… you know when you get that déjà vu feeling? Except you have proof from your side of the tale too. Trouble is that the truth has its own version…

18- What’s keeping them apart? Lots of hurt pride, broken hearts, completely different lifestyles… But even with all that past, the thing that made them unique is still there.

19- Remember yesterday, when I said different lifestyles? Yeah. West coast musician with a wildly successful touring band vs an East coast wildly famous bar/nightclub owner. One is always on the go, the other is happily rooted to one spot. Plus the same problems as last time- other people.

20- Woods can be a bit too thick headed or obtuse for Tweet’s liking. Woods isn’t exactly annoyed by her running off tendency, but it isn’t making his days any better either.

21- Well, this pair have been together before, and neither were all that innocent then. But since then… One has gone full on flavor of the month style, while the other is much more cautious about their reputation.

22- Woods & Tweet = the infamous Ghostbusters “don’t cross the streams” thing. It’s a peppy flirt who makes you question if she’s as naïve as she sounds vs a rogue with all the manners of that bad boy you need to leave with. Their game is holding out the longest & upping the stakes…

23- Their first kiss? Very steamy yet semi polite in front of the crowd… You see, it was Halloween, and there were sexy costumes… someone didn't speak, just acted, and the rest is... in the book!

24- In this series, I love that Tweet and Woods flirt at the level of chess moves sometimes. Tweety makes a man play on her level or the game is over. If you use tired lines or give the answer she expects when giving you enough rope to hang yourself… well she’s already over it.

29- Favorite quality about-

Tweety- She’s amazing at making people feel welcome and free to be themselves.

Woods- He’s got an awesome amount of patience and tolerance. The not being jealous adds to his charms.

30- Least favorite quality about-

Tweety- Always with the bright, happy side even if it hurts…

Woods- He picks up a ghost nickname for a reason you know.

31- This has been fun, and I’m totally ready for #NaNoWriMo! (Sits and waits for the clock to strike 12…)

#CharactersTell

1/10- “Oh, it’s my favorite month! Halloween weekend parties are our best buiness, and the most fun! Of course I have to come chat about #RedLetters with you all. You all know me as miss Tweety...”

2/10- Tweety- “Why i’m your hostess with the most-ess! I run the front of house at Soulful, in addition to being a co-owner.”

3/10- Tweety- “It’s only lonely in the sense of responsibility. Otherwise, I have a ton of staff and regulars around at any given time.”

4/10-Tweety- “I guess? I’m great with a lot of things, but Nira is best with the finances, so I leave that to him. Since I started being a waitress, I had him investing & asked for what I needed to buy clothes with. Best way to pay him back for the couch surfing.”

5/10- Tweety- “My time off is usually when I sleep. Now there is some help so I can leave before I start falling asleep, but other than writing, I wouldn’t know what to do with time off.”

6/10- Tweety- “Adventure happens all around the club. You never know what Bebe will do when bored, at least my job and the respect given to me, keeps the place from falling down around it all.”

7/10- Tweety- “Well, I would hope that my kindness keeps me in high esteem… Why else would we be so packed all the time? I know there are those against me, because I built a following from scratch.”

#CharactersTell

8/10- “I'm Greg, Gus’ grandson and recent college grad with a degree in business.”

9/10- Greg- “I had a few odds jobs, some for the experience more than the money, but yeah I work a lot.”

10/10- Greg- “I'm not nefarious. Just a regular guy with an inheritance that apparently affects others…”

11/10- Greg- “That's what I'm trying to decide! A piece of a prosperous club or a life on my own…”

12/10- Greg- “Trying not to do that with this choice. You know, this isn't really helping me decide, not when you're highlighting the downsides…”

13/10- Greg- “Progressive. Smart, firm when I have to be. Not overly nice, you will know I'm the boss.”

14/10- Greg- “If I decided to take the ownership, it's really like a slow raise. Or I sell it and make a windfall quick…”

#CharactersTell

15/10- Rolls in on those shoes with wheels inside “Duranta at your service, but everyone calls me Runta! Soul’s not so resident clothing designer and somewhat personal shopping friend to Tweet, if you must know.

16/10- Runta- laughs “Of course not! It takes money and patronage to become a designer who makes money. They wanted me to have a different sort of full time boring work.”

17/10- Runta- “I’ve made a few fashion week shows, and have some amazingly supportive fans who basically are fashion influencers in their own rights...” #spoilers

18/10- Runta- “Sure, I mean clothes and fashion is how you see a person, so of course people have stereotypes based on looks, but I don’t play that game.”

19/10- Runta- “Absolutely! Networking is a big part of what I do! Connections get me everywhere.”

20/10- Runta- “Total workaholic! A friend of mine says that if you love what you do, it’s not working, but living. And I am living for this life!”

21/10- Runta- “I learned a few things from the place I got my start. Hire people good at what they do, and that you can stand being around constantly. So yeah, the people who work for me become a family, since we’re together that much.”

#writer #game #twitter game #answers #charactershell #characterstell #nanowrimo #prep #romance #scifi

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danganronpa-imagines · 7 years

Text

Ultimate Herpetologist

Hello Mod Kiibo! Thank you so much for replying to me :)

Here is my OC, I hope it’s ok as I haven’t created one in a long time. She’s heavily influenced by myself actually, other than the second name and some of the animals kept. I do own 15 pets though, just no venomous or poisonous ones! I hope everyone’s OCs can get along!

Edit: Hi Mod Kiibo, sorry about this, but I forgot to add my OC’s ability that is given to the protagonist after obtaining all of her friendship fragments! The ability is called “Snake Charmer”, and it cuts the damage recieved by saying an unsuccessful lie during class trials in half :) Sorry to be a pain! Thank you for all the hard work you do for us

P.S: Please don’t copy her, she is a work from my own heart!

Hello there, tea-drinking-dragon! I hope you are doing well and are taking care of yourself! Thank you so much for your submission! I very much enjoyed reading about Amy! What a wonderful and distinctive character! I like snakes myself, so I loved reading about The Ultimate Herpetologist! This is my first time receiving a submission like this and responding to it, so please excuse my inexperience in responding to it and formatting it! As you requested in a previous post, I will write about how my OC, Yoite, will react to her. Thank you so much once again for this submission! It is very much appreciated!

Please do not copy or reuse Amy Blackadder! She belongs to tea-drinking-dragon and them alone! Please do not copy or reuse Yoite Inoue! She belongs to me and myself alone! Thank you!

“Her presence is quite reassuring…”

Because of Amy’s concealed reserved nature, Yoite makes the effort to spend time with her and understand her. The former’s contentment with animals and quiet is favored quite a bit by the latter, as Yoite succumbs to tiredness and lethargy easily. She will occasionally unapologetically rest her head on Amy’s lap and nap for a short period of time, simply because she has decided that Amy is to be trusted. It is especially pleasant when Amy rubs her thumb back and forth gently on Yoite’s sleepy head.

Aside from napping though, Yoite does enjoy spending meals with Amy and spending quiet time with her snakes. She especially is attached to Amy’s Corn Snake. She lovingly refers to it as a ‘snek.’

Amy Blackadder

Ultimate Herpetologist

Characteristics:

Gender: Female

Height: 5′7″ (ENG)

172.2 cm (JP)

Weight: 72.5 kg (160 lbs)

Birthdate: 30 July (Leo)

Blood Type: O+

Likes: Reptiles, Birds, Video games, Sweets, Gardening and Mythology.

Dislikes: Parasites, Centipedes, Spiders, Non melted Cheese, Slippy floors.

Appearance:

Amy is a pale skinned adolescent woman of slightly above average height, and carries a few extra pounds. Despite this, she isn’t unfit and is actually surprisingly strong, which she claims is due to handling some of her more heavy animals and their tanks. When hugged, she tends to be a little squishy. She has slightly broad shoulders and a DD cup size. She has black hair in a choppy bob that is longer near the front of her face and gets shorter towards the back of her head and heterochromatic eyes that are green and brown respectively.

Amy has poor eye sight and wears a pair of navy coloured glasses to correct her vision. Clothing wise she wears a navy blue kennel coat made out of tough synthetic fibres and cotton over a loose turquoise button up shirt and ripped black jeans. Her shoes are black steel toe capped safety boots and have an iron plate running through the sole.

Her accessories consist of a small bottle of hand sanitizer clipped onto one of the belt loops on the right hand side of her jeans, a thick pair of handling gloves that hang out of her kennel coat pocket when not in use alongside a fold away snake hook, a white scarf with navy stars and rests a special pair of safety goggles that are designed to go over her glasses on her head.

Personality: Amy is generally laid back and won’t usually bother someone unless they speak to her first, unless it is someone she is already friends with. She’s naturally calm, and does her best to try and stop people from panicking. To do this, she purposefully comes up with cringey jokes and tries to push herself to bring up humour in bad situations. Whenever she herself is struggling with things, she’ll redirect the conversation with jokes, sarcasm or white lies. This is partially because she’s embarrassed and unwilling to share her vulnerable side to others, as well as not wanting to show weakness to make people think she’s an easy target in the killing game. She suffers from depression and can be prone to some serious low moods, to combat this she interacts with her animals, who she doesn’t mind sharing her secrets with. If she has no access to them, she tends to isolate herself in her room until she knows she can convincingly tell a cover story or make satire out of the situation. She prefers to hang around with one or two close friends rather than get too close to everybody. She is well aware that not everyone is free from malice and that dead men tell no tales.

Quotes:

“Oh? Um, hello! My name’s Amy, I’m the Ultimate Herpetologist. It’s nice to meet you, shame about the circumstances though.”

“A herpetologist is someone who studies reptiles and amphibians. It can be a useful talent outside, but in here… Not so much. Haha, don’t worry though, I’ll try to make sure nobody croaks!”

“Let me know if you get hurt ok? I’m not a nurse, but I know emergency first aid. The amount of bites I got when I first started training was quite embarrassing. At one point I just wanted to tell anyone asking me to catch a snake for them to hiss off!”

Responses:

“Hmm? What’s up?”

“Would you like to talk about it? Or, I could just listen if you want.”

“I doubt it.”

“Lets go friendo, I’ve got your back!”

“Hey, I made some cake earlier! Here, let me take your mind off it.”

“Want me to make us some tea?”

“I’m certain.”

“Definitely not.”

“… Lets go over it again. Maybe we missed something?”

“Not everything is black and white. Lets investigate the grey area. All 50 shades of it.”

“It’s ok to be afraid. Please, let me help you.”

“What’s a snake’s favourite subject? Hisssstory! Oh… Not funny? Shame, I found it hisssterical!”

“There’s no turning back now. Even if it takes tooth and claw, we have to fight!”

“This… this is for me? Oh, wow, um, thank you very much! I promise to take good care of it!”

“ Whatever way you wish to play this, I will back you up. Just because people don’t like something or don’t want to believe it, it doesn’t make it any less real or true. Also, it’s surprising how fast people stop talking shit when they find a black mamba in their room, want to see how long it takes?”

“If that’s the truth…”

“I understand.”

“It’s people and situations like this that is reason why I prefer animals to humans.”

“… What? Really?”

“Oh…”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m fine, really. I was just thinking about my pets back home… Anyway, did you hear about the tortoise who bit a power cable? He was shell shocked!”

“Um…. I’m sorry to bother you and if I’m annoying you just tell me, but would you mind if I talk to you for a bit? It’s just… I just need a friend right now…”

“I suppose I have room for one more being to take care of… Where do you want your enclosure? Next to the Asian water monitor, me, or the giant African bull frog? …. Hehe, are you sure? I bite!”

“Ah, it’s ok! Sorry, did we scare you? It’s ok, I’ve got him on a harness!”

“Hey Kirumi! It’s ok, have a rest. I really appreciate all the things you do for us so I…. Oh? I can smell…. Oh no I left the oven on!”

“Oh? You’re interested in snakes Kokichi? Hehe, kind of ironic, no? Hehe, just joking. Anyway, I’ll show you a couple if you like, but no venomous ones. It’s not that they’re unpredictable, it’s just I haven’t handled those ones around strangers and don’t want to risk it. I don’t want to be the next blackened cause of an accident!”

“Come on Shuichi, lets turn that frown upside down. Have you been in the games room yet? I’ll grab some snacks and we can chill out and play! ”

Free Time Event Presents:

Loves: Boba Tea, Bubblegum Bomb, Teddy Bear, Steel Glasses Case, Helping Yacchi

Dislikes: Monkey’s Paw

Trivia:

- Despite being openly friendly, it is thought that she is secretly lonely, and has been observed talking to her companion animal if she has one with her when no else is around.

-The “Adder” in Blackadder is actually a venomous snake from Amy’s home country in the UK and can also be linked to a comedy show originated in the UK called Blackadder. She has been known to quote parts of the series in some of her interactions;

“My dear Gonta, you wouldn’t see a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on top of a harpsichord singing “Subtle plans are here again!”. “

“Well that was about as useful as a barber’s shop on the steps of the guillotine…”

- In Amy’s DanganronpaV3 talent lab, she has a variety of venomous, poisonous and dangerously large animals who tanks have padlocks on and have a red colour coded danger sticker. These include:

Inland Taipan (Venomous)

Black Mamba (Venomous)

Mozambique Spitting Cobra (Venomous)

Reticulated Python (Large Constrictor)

Green Anaconda (Large Constrictor)

Gila Monster (Venomous)

Rough Skinned Newt (Poisonous)

The “Safe” animals in her lab include:

Bearded Dragon [Lovingly nicknamed “Skittles”]

Leopard Gecko [“Disco”]

Asian water monitor [“Ruby”]

Black throat Monitor [“Lancelot”]

Giant African bull frog

Blue tongue skink [“Bingo”]

Uromastyx

Corn snake

Ball Python

The animals with nicknames are ones that she actively takes outside her labs for walks, either holding them or using a harness.

FreeTime Event:

Amy: “Hey Kaede, how’s it going? Don’t mind me, I’m just… Investigating. Other than us, it looks like there’s nothing else alive here… Not even insects. I mean I’m not complaining, but still.”

Kaede: [I watched as Amy left the long grass and brushed herself off, looking concerned. Should I ask her to hang out?”]

[Yes]

Amy: “I’d love to! I was starting to get a little bored, everyone has this dire look on their faces and I didn’t want to accidently tread on any toes so I haven’t really gotten to know anyone yet… So Kaede, do you like extreme wrestling, pineapple on pizza and bad jokes? No? Good! Cause I don’t either. Apart from the last one, but hopefully it’ll grow on you like penicillin on an orange. Might take a while to fester though.”

[I spent time today chatting with Amy and trying to cope with her sense of humour.]

[Looks like Amy and I grew closer]

[Would you like to give Amy a present?]

[Gives favourable present]

Amy: “Oh? For me? Are you sure? Thank you! Lets see… I don’t have anything in return, but I’ll have a look in the dining hall later and if I can, I’ll make you some of my special chocolate orange cupcakes!”

Kaede: “Cupcakes, huh? Do you like baking Amy?”

Amy: “I do! The only thing is though, is that once I’ve made something I have to eat it. I live alone so I don’t normally bake unless I have friends coming over, but when I do I’m essentially putting myself and everyone else on a fast track to diabetes. I haven’t had the time to do it in a while though because of caring for my animals.”

Kaede: “Oh yeah, I remember you mentioning earlier. Snakes and lizards right? But… Aren’t snakes slimy?”

Amy: “Haha, no, not quite. Frogs are, but not snakes. A lot of people assume that they are though because they’re shiny. If you were to stroke a snake, most feel cool, and smooth. A little bit like a leather sofa, but more sleek. Some snakes might have specialised rough scales which when they vibrate make a rattling sound, or on their belly to help them grip trees.”

Kaede: “I see… Are you ever afraid of getting bitten though?”

Amy: “Are you afraid that I could bite you?”

Kaede: “What? Uh, no, I guess…”

Amy: “Haha, don’t worry, I won’t. However, think of it this way. If something has a mouth, it can bite. People often fear snakes due to the possibility of being bitten, but in reality a snake would rather just run away. Biting is usually a last resort because it’s frightened of you. You’re much more likely to be savaged by a dog than harmed by a snake. It’s a fact that’s often over looked because dogs are cute and fluffy, whereas many people think reptiles are ugly.”

Kaede: “That is… A unique way of seeing it, but it makes sense. If we get out of here, would you help me touch a snake? Even if it’s just a little one, I’d like to try.”

Amy: “I would be very happy to, I know just the snake to introduce you to!”

Reaction Yoite: Amy would likely get on with Yoite, and would be interested in working together with her to help educate people on reptiles, providing a handling session and keeping the animals under control as Yoite controls the students and explains information to them in a way that they’d understand.

#tea-drinking-dragon #original character #oc #danganronpa #submission

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federico-rondelli-naba · 4 years

Photo

Videogames for humans: Eden

Il Videogioco fin da subito ci consiglia di attivare l’audio per una “riproduzione ottimale” di esso.

Inizialmente ci chiede di inserire il prorpio nome, per poter trasportarci all’interno del gioco.

Something isn't right today. You don't know what it is.

But you do have a feeling.

Una sensazione, una sensazione di qualcosa che è andato storto.

You have this strange and eerie feeling SOMETHING is going to happen, but you have no idea what it is.

That is, until....

Qalcosa è andato proprio storto.

That is until your supervisor shows you the lab's new specimen. "We're not sure what it is," he says. "But it can't be human."

You take a look.

Guardi di cosa si tratta.

You take a look at the specimen and try to conceal your horror. "Are you sure it isn't human?" you ask. Your supervisor just shrugs.

"Keep an eye on it," he says. "I'll be back in a few minutes." Then, save for the "specimen" in the holding cell, he leaves you all alone.

You feel conflicted.

Ti senti in conflitto con l’essere.

The creature in the cage looks like a person to you. Different, perhaps, but either human or so close that it hardly matters.

"What's your name?" you ask, hands curled around the bars.

The specimen... no the prisoner wearily shakes their head.

You decide to rescue the prisoner.

No. It's safer to keep your distance.

No, è troppo pericoloso, meglio non avvicinarsi. Questa è la prima volta che si può scegliere cosa fare.

You stay put and don't say a word, never meeting the prisoner's eyes. They'd never keep a human in here, you console yourself. You almost believe it.

Then, you wake up.

Ti svegli.

You've had the same dream for three nights in a row. (Well, actually, the last three mornings since you're on the night shift.) It never ends quite the same. Maybe you're just THAT depressed your vacation is ending now.

Anyway, it's time to get ready. Who do you see in the mirror?

I'm a woman.

I'm a man.

I'm neither, actually.

Il videogioco cerca di capire di che sesso sei, ora addirittura si ha tre scelte.

I could use a shave, you think. You shower, you groom, you dress, you grab breakfast.

Time to face the day.

Dopo questo ricorrente sogno, è giunta l’ora di affrontare la giornata.

You get to work on time like you always do. After all, getting ahead takes making a good impression.

Hang up your coat.

Appena arrivati al lavoro appendiamo il nostro cappotto, sembra un azione abituale.

You put away your coat and head for lab A-3.

You exchange polite hellos with co-workers on the way, but everybody knows you're not much of a talker.

So, what's up?

Questa è un'altra emozione che proviamo, come va?

When you get to lab A-3, almost no one is there. You ask an acquaintance named Kyra, "What's going on?"

She tells you, "Check B-2. While you were gone, they brought in a real, live alien and everyone wants a look."

"Are you sure it's all right?" you ask.

She says, "It's fine. I'll cover for you. Besides, Jones is there and he wants to see you." Jones being your supervisor, who's called you "brilliant" before.

Go to Lab B-2

Andiamo a vedere quell’essere nel laboratorio, sembra proprio come nel sogno.

Phones aren't allowed in the basement labs, so you leave yours in your mini-locker. You go to lab B-2, where they keep the most secret of secrets—even for this place. You only earned clearance a week ago and you're eager to see what's inside.

You swipe your card through scanner. The door unlocks. You go inside. You notice there's a card reader inside the room as well—likely an added precaution to help keep whatever's in here from escaping.

Everyone is "Ooh"ing and "Aaah"ing over the new specimen that's in the cell in the corner. You nudge your way through the crowd and... and....

Oh my God.

La sensazione di curiosità che si prova, sarà come nel sogno?

Huddled behind those cold steel bars is the most beautiful creature. Beautiful... and if not human, close enough that it hardly matters. You're absolutely haunted by this creature... no, this person's mournful eyes.

The captive is wearing loose gray prison clothes—pants and a short-sleeved shirt. You believe this ethereal being....

Is male.

O Is female.

O Is neither.

O Is MESMERIZING. You'll work out the details later.

Questa creatura è ipnotizzante, mesmerizzante.

This person is simply beautiful, beautiful beyond reason. You've never seen anything like them before and doubt you will again.

"What... how...?" you ask Jones. It's difficult right now to voice coherent thoughts. Luckily, he knows what you mean.

"We're calling it Eden," Jones replies. "Agents discovered it three days ago in a field not far from here, captured it and brought it in for study. We believe it's an alien lifeform."

"Can they speak?"

"It seems physically capable of speech, but we don't know its language. And that's why I wanted to see you."

Why me?

Ci chiediamo perché proprio noi. La musica di sottofondo continua.

"Why me?" you ask.

"Several of us have tried already, but the creature won't respond. Essentially, it's your turn." As good an answer as any.

You kneel in front of Eden's cell. "Hello," you say quietly so as not to frighten them. "You probably don't understand me, but... I'm not here to hurt you."

Send them away, whispers a gentle voice in your mind. Please. Send them away.

You blink in surprise since it isn't your voice. It must belong to Eden. It sounds....

Exactly like you'd expect.

O Different somehow.

Non è come me lo aspettavo.

Their voice is calming, like autumn rain.

You also think that Eden's voice seems....

More ethereal than you expected.

O More lyrical than you expected.

L’essere è lirico, non me lo aspettavo.

Eden's voice is even more lyrical than you expected, and a perfect match for Eden's androgynous beauty.

But back to Eden's request.

Ritorniamo alla richiesta di Eden.

Eden asked you to clear the room. You look back and say, "Eden is telepathic. They asked me to ask everyone else to leave."

Silence. The other scientists exchange puzzled looks and mumurs about the brain scans they took and how they were "different" from a human's.

"All right," Jones says. "But I want a full report on your findings."

Now, it's time to talk to Eden.

Iniziamo a parlare da soli con Eden.

You ask Eden: Where are you from?

O Why are you here?

O Why did you pick ME?

O Eden, how are you feeling?

O Can you tell me your real name?

Come si chiamerà Eden?

You say, "I'm sure your real name isn't Eden. That's just the name they gave you. If it's all right, could you tell me your real name?"

Eden smiles. "Maybe later. But not yet."

Ask more questions.

Gli facciamo altre domande.

You ask Eden: Where are you from?

O Why are you here?

O Why did you pick ME?

O Eden, how are you feeling?

O Can you tell me your real name? (Already asked) -Or-

That's enough questions for now.

Perché mi ha scelto?

You ask Eden, "Why did you choose to talk to me?"

Eden says, "Give me your hand." You do. Then, they answers you.

I sensed you were different from the others. That maybe... you might help me.

Ask more questions? That's enough questions for now.

Gli faccio altre domande.

You ask Eden: Where are you from?

O Why are you here?

O Why did you pick ME?

O Eden, how are you feeling? (Already asked)

O Can you tell me your real name? (Already asked) -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Perché sei qui?’

Eden looks away. "There were rumors about life in this part of the universe. I wanted to see for myself, though I was warned not to." Ask more questions? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Gli faccio ancora altre domande.

You ask Eden: Where are you from?

O Why are you here? (Already asked)

O Why did you pick ME? (Already asked)

O Eden, how are you feeling?

O Can you tell me your real name? (Already asked)

O NEW: What kind of warning? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

sChe avvertimento ti hanno dato?

Frowning, you ask, "What kind of warning did they give you?" You already suspect the answer.

Eden looks away and says, "That... the rumored lifeforms here were dangerous." Which is about what you expected. Ask more questions? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Sono curioso, altre domande.

You ask Eden: Where are you from?

O Why are you here? (Already asked)

O Why did you pick ME? (Already asked)

O Eden, how are you feeling?

O Can you tell me your real name? (Already asked)

O What kind of warning? (Already asked) -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Di dove è l’essere?

You ask Eden, "Where are you from?"

Eden tells you in the gentlest (and weariest) voice you've ever heard, "A world we call Mekkari. It's... quite far from here." Ask more questions? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Gli faccio ancora delle domande.

You ask Eden: Where are you from? (Already asked) Why are you here? (Already asked) Why did you pick ME? (Already asked) Eden, how are you feeling? Can you tell me your real name? (Already asked) NEW: What's Mekkari like? What kind of warning? (Already asked) -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Cos’è Mekkari?

You ask, "What's Mekkari like?"

Eden gives you a ghost of a smile. "It's a wonderful, wonderful place. Peaceful. Beautiful. I'd really like to go home." Ask more questions? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Gli faccio un ultima domanda.

You ask Eden: Where are you from? (Already asked) Why are you here? (Already asked) Why did you pick ME?(Already asked) Eden, how are you feeling? Can you tell me your real name? (Already asked) What's Mekkari like? (Already asked) What kind of warning? (Already asked) -Or- That's enough questions for now.

You ask Eden gently, "Eden, how are you feeling?"

Eden stares at you for a long time. "You're the first one here to ask me that sincerely," they say softly.

Their eyes are shining with tears. "Thank you. I am.... I've been better." Ask more questions? -Or- That's enough questions for now.

Ha risposto ad abbastanza domande per ora.

You and Eden both are silent for a while. You feel sorry for their being held captive like this, but what can YOU do? You're not in charge of anything here. Try to console Eden.

O Try to reach Eden with your thoughts. Consolo Eden.

"I wish I could help you," you tell Eden. "I don't have much influence here, but if there's anything I can do to make things better for you...."

"I know," Eden says. "You'll try." Maybe... there's a way?

O It's just too risky.

Ci sarà un modo?

Since Eden can reach you mind-to-mind, you decide to see if it can work the other way.

With all your concentration, you think, Eden. Can you hear me?

Eden answers, Yes.

Is there anything you can tell me that might help me get you out of here? Things you've noticed? Certain abilities you have?

Eden says, If I'm close enough, I can "communicate" with technology and alter it with my mind. I can do it most accurately with things I'm actually touching. I can sense the presence of other living beings. And I doubt they've found my ship since it was cloaked when I left it. If I could use something as a tracking device, I could find my way back to it.

Do they know what you can do?

They only know about my telepathy. And that's only because of today.

Hmm. Figure out your next steps.

O You're having second thoughts.

Penso a cosa fare.

You're not sure about this anymore. If the others found you out, at best you'd lose your job. At worst.... Well, since the lab itself doesn't even exist on paper, you'd rather not think about that. But you have to try

O You can't. It's just too dangerous.

Potrei tentare.

You and Eden work out a plan. Communicating mind-to-mind makes it go by quickly.

Eden's technomancy skills can turn your card into a master key. They can likely disable security cameras and alarms as well, provided they can get close enough—and in very little time since destruction takes a lot less nuance than recreation. (You're glad they haven't tried that with the lock on they cell. Cell locks STAY locked if they're tampered with at all.) Also, perhaps most importantly, they can reconfigure any smartphone locate their ship.

Since the cell has a keycard lock (located across the room and out of Eden's range), freeing them won't be a problem. The problem is that after that, you need to get them out of the building without getting caught.

First, though, you take out your keycard so Eden can work their magic. You do your best to keep it hidden from camera view, knowing there's one behind you pointed directly at the cell.

It's done, Eden says after a minute or so. It can open any electronic lock now. You put the card back in your lab coat pocket.

Now, you can free Eden. But first.... You need to get your smartphone.

O No, Nab a phone on the way out.

Ho bisogno del mio cellulare prima.s

Getting your phone first risks Jones coming back before you've freed Eden. But you want to have all the pieces in place before you set the plan into action. I'm going to get my smartphone, you tell Eden. Then, I'll be right back.

Eden says, Okay.

You swipe your card through the reader and go back to the hallway.

Ritorno nel corridoio.

Time is of the essence, so you try to get this done as quickly as possible, i go back to the hallway.

Ritorno nel corridoio.

You head back into the hallway and try to act natural. You left your phone upstairs in lab A-3, and time is of the essence.

You've almost reached the stairs... and you're stopped by a new "fan." Crap. What does he want?

Cosa vuole?

"I can't believe Eden spoke to you," he says.

"Yeah, that was really something," you say, trying to get past him. "Look, I'm in a hurry."

But he's not good at taking a hint.

Non sono bravo a fare queste cose.

You STILL wish this guy would find someone else to talk to. He just goes ON AND ON. And he won't shut up.

La smetterà di parlare?

You eventually manage to give him the brush-off, but he did waste your time.

You can get to the stairs, finaly.

But maybe it's not worth the risk.

Posso arrivare alle scale finalmente.

a Quickly, you run up the stairs.

And right into the last person you wanted to see.

Non la dovevo beccare.

Jones is headed right your way—and in all likelihood, back to lab B-2. You need to convince him to give you more time with Eden.

"Ah, fede," Jones says. "Do you have anything to report?"

"I'd like more time alone with Eden," you say. "I hope that's all right." You hope you were convincing.

Jones doesn't answer right away. "Well...."

Menomale, mi ha dato più tempo.

Jones says, "Hmm. Well, take what time you need. I'll check on you later." Seems you were lucky. Just barely. Maybe you shouldn't press your luck.

So. What will you do? Head back to the lab RIGHT NOW.

O Keep going and get your phone.

Cerco di prendere il mio telefono.

You're upstairs already, so you might as well keep going. Lab A-3 isn't that far.

Head for lab A-3.

Mi dirigo verso il laboratorio.

You reach lab A-3 without incident, and your phone is right where you left it. You hurry back to Eden.

Ora torno da Eden.

Luck is on your side today. When you return to Eden with your phone, there's still no one else in the lab.

Presently, Eden seems very focused on the camera on the wall. Trying to connect with it, maybe...?

Anyway, you tell Eden, I'm going to unlock your cell. Then you can disable the camera and get out.

Eden says, All right. It's Showtime.

L’ora è giunta.

Quickly and subtly, you unlock Eden's cell and walk to the door, waiting for Eden to take care of the camera. You hear an odd crackling sound; the room's lights flicker into darkness and the emergency lights near the floor come on. You reopen the lab door with your keycard. A peek into the hall confirms that power has gone out.

It might be overkill, but it's useful overkill. Regular staff will be leaving now. However, with such a suspicious outage (and perhaps suspicious camera footage), it seems like a sure thing they'll be sending in some guards to investigate.

Once you've confirmed the coast is clear, you tell Eden, "Let's go." Since you already have a phone, that's one less risk you'll need to take during your escape. But, you realize, a disguise for Eden might come in handy. You can likely pick one up in the basement storage room.

Time is of the essence, especially if you alert the guards.

Rush ahead while it looks clear.

O Better to be cautious.

Meglio essere cauti, molto cauti.

It's a good thing you held back. A guard just rounded the corner. Get back in, you tell Eden. I'll hide behind that counter and HOPE he doesn’t come in.

Speriamo non entri nessuno.

The guard walks into the room. He sees Eden is still in their cell (but hasn't noticed it's unlocked) and hasn't spotted you yet.

So, what now? Every option has its risks.... Make a break for it with Eden.

O Keep hiding.

O Grab that digital scale from under the counter just in case.

Continuo a nascondermi.

You decide to keep hiding and hope for the best.

Then, the guard squints at the green light that shows Eden's cell is unlocked. He reaches for both his keycard and a gun. Grab the scale.

O You and Eden RUN

Afferro la scala.

You're a little panicky as you grab the scale. Luckily, you're still together enough to run up behind the guard and whack him with it before he knows what's happened.

Lo colpisco.

SMASH!

You can also ask what Eden suggests. Crap. He's still standing! o

Hit him again!

Grab Eden and RUN!

Lo colpisco di nuovo.

What does Eden suggest to me?

Cosa mi suggerisce Eden?

You ask Eden, Should we get the disguise or just go?

Eden says, My feeling is a disguise might make us safer. Take Eden's suggestion.

O Just RUN.

Prendo il suo suggerimento e travesto Eden.

You've reached the Storage Room.

Raggiungo il ripostiglio.

Time seems to pass more slowly in this room for some reason. You can spend as much time here as you need.

Following Eden's suggestion, you return to the storage room. This does seems like a good time to get a disguise for them.

There are plenty of scientist uniforms in here as well as sundry junk from the Lost and Found. You hand Eden a uniform as well as a pair of glasses and something to tie back their hair. That should do in this dim lighting.

Eden immediately starts undressing right in front of you and doesn't seem especially modest. You're still not 100% sure of Eden's sex and you can't help being curious. Looking away seems more courteous.

O ONE quick peek. Eden doesn't seem to mind.

Un veloce sguardo dai.

Eden doesn't seem to mind, so you guess it's all right to look as long as you don't stare. A cursory glance reveals that Eden is definitely male.

Normally, you're attracted to.... Men

O Women

O Nonbinary people

O Whoever looks attractive, regardless.

Sono attratto dalle donne.

You're normally attracted to women. But Eden is so beautiful. Is it possible he's an exception? Okay, time to go.

Dobbiamo andare.

Now that your business here is done, it's time to.... Get out of here.

O Or risk a little exploring.

Andiamo subito via.

You have a phone and Eden's disguise. It's time to get out of here.

Andiamo.

Please oh PLEASE let us make it to the exit....

A guard is running after you and Eden. You want to make a break for it, but Eden says, Wait. He's not hostile. So, both of you wait where you are and try to act natural.

"What are you still doing here?" the guard asks breathlessly. "All non-security personnel are supposed to evacuate!"

"We're leaving right now," you assure the guard. He goes back to patrolling the area.

It looks like you're home free.

Sembra ci sia via libera.

Once you're safely away from the complex, Eden reconfigures your phone. He laughs when he sees where the ship is.

"It isn't far from here," Eden says. "It's right through these woods."

And that's where you go.

Andiamoci subito.

Once you've reached the supposed right place, Eden holds out his hands and focuses with all his might. After a minute, his ship appears, silvery and shining like a vaguely sphere-shaped star.

Eden's face is bright with hope. "Thank you so much," he says. He really are incomparably beautiful, especially his eyes. When you look in them, you see.... A quiet strength and thoughtfulness beyond anything you've known.

O The enchanting purity of Eden's bright and loving nature.

O The wonder of a place so very far away.

Vedo nei suoi occhi la purezza.

Once you've reached the supposed right place, Eden holds out his hands and focuses with all his might. After a minute, his ship appears, silvery and shining like a vaguely sphere-shaped star.

Eden's face is bright with hope. "Thank you so much," he says. He really are incomparably beautiful, especially his eyes. When you look in them, you see....

Respect Eden's wishes.

O Throw caution to the wind.

Rispetto Eden.

Since you're not sure Eden wants to be kissed, you choose to hold back.

"Thank you again," Eden says.

You tell Eden, "I would do it all again." Eden gives you a nod and smile and walks towards his ship.

It looks like this is the end. That doesn't mean it is.

Non è per forza finita.

Running after Eden, you shout, "Wait! Please, can I come with you?"

Eden blinks. "Are you sure?"

You nod. "Absolutely. I doubt there's much left for me here, and I'd love to see your world."

Eden's smile is as enchanting as the full moon overhead. "I'm so glad you said that," he says. "Follow me." You board Eden's ship.

Salgo a bordo della nave.

The flight to Eden's world seems to be over in an instant.

"Welcome to Mekkari," Eden says, opening the ship's hatch. "I hope you like it here."

You take a look at your new home.

Do un occhiata.

Eden's homeworld is simply amazing.

Il suo pianeta è fantastico.

You never could have imagined such a pristine and marvelous place.

Un posto magnifico.

The only thing more perfect... is the person who brought you here. But you're curious.

"Eden," you ask, "what's your real name? Can you tell me now?"

"It's Aevra," he replies. It suits him very well. Then, Eden... no, Aevra asks, "What's yours?"

"It's Fede," you say.

Aevra smiles. "I like that very much."

Neither of you speaks for a while. Then, Aevra breaks the silence saying, "You hoped I was a woman, didn't you."

You admit, "Yeah. I did."

"Does knowing that I'm not change anything for you?

You think about that for a while and give Aevra your honest answer. "Maybe a little."

O "Not in the least."

Forse.

You admit, "Maybe a little."

Aevra says, "I understand. I appreciate your honesty—and hopefully, your friendship."

You smile. "Absolutely. And thanks." There are worse things to have in one's life than a kind and pleasant friend, especially one who has taken you to a world beyond the stars.

End.

Questo videogioco secondo me è davvero bello, sembra di leggere un libro. Entri con l’immaginazione nella storia infatti ho immaginato ogni scena e ogni scelta che ho fatto, ogni scelta ti fa pensare alle possibili conseguenze. Non serve alcuna grafica, bastano le parole, la vostra immaginazione farà il resto.

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purkinje-effect · 7 years

Text

The Purkinje Effect, 3

Table of Contents

Once Galen had paid Dr. Sun for the Addictol, he walked down the front steps and dropped five dollars in their cigarette machine to get a pack. Second Street. He chuckled to himself as he lit one up. They’ve embraced every bit of Bostonian culture here, down to the diamond itself. The guards wear catcher gear. The streets are named after the bases. Pff, there’s even a guy over there makin’ a living selling baseball bats. But can I blame em? Heck no. Of any building I can think of in East Mass, Fenway Park was built like a damn fortress.

He flicked his ashes and took another drag, sizing up his surroundings to get his bearings. Town square was the inner diamond, three rows of merchant stalls. A second row outside that seemed a combination of residential and merchant blocks. Besides the “swatter” dealer, gun enthusiast, and surplus stalls, he could discern they’d reclaimed pieces of an old Fallon’s building. Behind the Mega Surgery Center was the butcher’s, and Public Occurrences was behind the barber’s to the other side of what he quickly determined was Home Plate. The pink dreg let out a deep, smoky exhale. Piper. He’d been too abrasive with her. Once he’d settled business with these two doctors Sun had referred him to, he felt obliged to make it up to her somehow. Galen swallowed his filter. Before anything else, a haircut.

Normally the going price the barber charged was fifteen caps, but he accepted Galen’s thirteen provided he could bum a smoke while he worked. A fresh trim and clean hair did wonders for Galen’s comfort and confidence levels. Two weeks on the road had left him scruffier than tolerable. John added a taper-fade to the slicked-back, longish undercut Galen desired to maintain. He smiled to himself as he walked off from John, running a gloved hand over his smooth nape and down past his clean shaven jaw. A fresh coat of pomade was far preferred to whatever had been failing to keep his hair slicked in place previously. He did his best to ignore the fact John’s mother, who’d loitered in the other end of the trailer while John worked, didn’t even wait for him to get out of hearing range to start speculating as to why he was bright pink.

Subconsciously he followed the ritual of walking the bases to find his way, and he passed by both the butcher’s and the Dugout Inn before he rounded the intersection of First and Second. He tapped his foot on First Base with a lighthearted spring in his foot before wandering Second Street to locate the one door on the path not labeled as strictly residential. Then he knocked on the blue door before letting himself in.

“I still think you should reconsider,” the dark blonde woman started cheerfully from one end of the two-story room, filled with various equipment and workbenches. Both wore white lab coats.

“Excuse me?” Galen started, to announce himself since it didn’t seem his knock had been heard.

“Ah, we have a guest,” the dark-haired woman with glasses segued from her place at the microfiche. “Dr. Duff, perhaps you can help him, so I can get back to my studies.”

“Ahh, yes, hello! You must be here for our free Science! lesson. You’re a little late, since the children from the schoolhouse have already left on their biology field trip, but I’m at no inconvenience to include you as well.” She smiled enthusiastically.

“Field trip?” Galen echoed, impressed. “This city’s got a fine educational system, if it’s got a science building all to itself.”

“We have some of the best scientific equipment in the city,” Duff grinned. “I promised the mayor himself that we would share that invaluable learning resource with anyone interested in self-enrichment. And what better way to enrich oneself than through Science!, hmm!”

“I think... I like the way you think.” Galen chuckled. The spirit of the woman was catching. “A biology lesson, though? Tell me more.”

“We all talk about radiation like it’s a single thing, but it’s actually comprised of many different types of ionizing rays. X-rays, alpha rays, beta rays, gamma rays... Do you know which of them we’re most worried about? The one most associated with the big, old bombs 200 years ago?”

He choked up, a bit unnerved by casual conversation broaching the apocalypse in such a way, but managed to rack his own personal knowledge enough to form an answer.

“Gamma rays, right? I remember cause of the triangle symbol, lookin’ like a piece of the radiation symbol.”

“That’s right! You’ve got a fine mnemonic. Now, gamma rays are bad. Really bad. If your body absorbs too much of that kind of radiation, you’ll suffer from fatigue, anemia, even death. But, some life forms have been living with gamma radiation exposure for two centuries now, and they've adapted. Neat, huh?”

“Adapted? Like, evolved?” Additionally, he wondered to himself, Mutated? “This is all very fascinating.”

“Yes, exactly! That’s what Science! is all about. Nothing stays the same. Everything reacts. Science! teaches us the lessons we need to survive. Now more than ever.”

“I love science,” he nodded, adoring her bubbly attitude.

“Now how about that field trip?”

“Field... trip?”

“Time to go out and do some Science! of your own, you silly. I usually have a prize for Best Junior Scientist, and nobody’s come back yet so you’re still in the running for it, if you’re interested.”

“Well, you certainly have my attention.”

“You're going to go out and find a Bloatfly gland. You see, the oversized Bloatfly of today evolved from an earlier species of a smaller fly. Radioactive adaptation has resulted in a unique gland that enables it to balance and maintain speed despite its size.”

“Is there... any chance we’ve adapted like that?” He didn’t want to admit off the cuff that he’d been eating his fair share of Bloatfly past two weeks, especially knowing from this conversation that they had in fact been horseflies before the war. It moderately alarmed him the approximation this conversation had to his own reasons for having come.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be something! You sure seem inclined towards theoretical topics, much unlike my partner, Professor.” The emphasis on her name, directed toward her, elicited an irritated huff from Scara.

“It’s not so much that. It’s... why I came here.” Galen pushed his hood back and made a self-conscious face. “Nobody above-ground’s pink. Just me and everybody else in my vault.”

“Ah! I didn’t even notice. Hm, you don’t eat a lot of any one thing, do you?”

“We’ve been eating food paste from dispensers installed in the vault, ever since the beginning of being shut in. And we haven’t got a garden or any of that, before you ask. Dr. Sun seemed real upset by that, when I spoke to him. He’s the one who sent me here.” He dug out the sample of food paste again and offered it up. “He said you might be able to analyze this stuff, and tell me what’s in it. My people’re getting sick, and everybody’s convinced it’s the paste. But there weren’t problems stomaching it until recent years.”

Duff took it and removed the lid, frowning at the pink goo.

“Pardon the obtuse remark, but this doesn’t look like food. Are you sure what you were eating out of was a food dispenser?”

“Six valves, in the mess hall,” he nodded. “When the vault was first set up, we had a nutritionist and a doctor. They both insisted it was a vitamin-enriched gel with the full gamut of nutrients anybody could need. They passed away a long time ago, though, so nobody can talk to them directly about it. Is it not common, for a vault to be outfitted with this stuff? Sun was distraught as all get-out that we don’t farm.”

As he spoke, Duff moved to the chemistry station against the far wall, taking a portion of it with a scoopula to a clean beaker, and she did not look up from her work as she got started.

“It’s going to take some time for me to analyze this. But round back. You mentioned adapting when you brought up being pink. You think you’ve adapted... to eat... this?”

“It’s uncanny. The longer it goes on, the more I realize I get sick from real food than I do from the paste. Or anything else I eat.” He cleared his throat, noticing his attention wandering to her scientific equipment. “My people’ve developed pica recently, myself included. Dr. Sun says eating non-food indicates malnutrition, which... confirms to me my theory that the formula for the paste’s changed. Maybe it’s expired finally. Who knows.”

“If you get sick from what you call ‘real’ food, then do you not get sick from eating what you consider not ‘real’ food? Maybe you’re mixed up which thing is food and which one isn’t.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he mumbled, brow furrowed thoughtfully.

“That’s the great thing about Science! though. Multiple perspectives can illuminate the simplest answer, when from just one you might not notice it.”

“Are you... are you proposing that I stop trying to eat real food? That’s gonna be real difficult, considerin’ what you’ve got there is the last of the paste rations I brought with me. I’m from Blackstone, and even if I could get back there in a timely fashion, I... kind of doubt I could get let back in. Not without something that’d make it worth it to ‘em.”

“Blackstone! My, you’re a long way from home. And all for Science! I admire that.”

“Yeah...”

He rubbed the back of his head, glancing off awkwardly. Duff began a second test sample of the paste, having gotten the first one going in a centrifugal spinner.

“What, besides the paste, have you been eating?”

“Most of my people’ve been eating chalk, or even river mud, but that’s just what I know of. We don’t really talk about it. It’s... a private matter. I’ve been eating a lot of metal stuff in the past few weeks. Even fusion cells. I felt so good the night I ate those batteries. ...Radiation made Bloatflies develop that gland, you said? You don’t think...?” Suddenly he remembered he’d eaten the last of his paste rations the same night, and he grimaced, but said nothing.

“My word, you’ve been eating nuclear materials! You must either have a Lead Belly, or you don’t show symptoms of illness on your sleeve.”

“Believe me, I’m real sick, but I don’t think it’s radiation sickness.”

“Without the results of the tests I’m running, I don’t have any answers for you. Come back in a few hours, and maybe we can get to the bottom of this together.” She laughed gaily. “Maybe... go on your little field trip?”

“I just might,” he replied, excusing himself to let her finish her work.

#dr. duff #professor scara #fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #the purkinje effect #geek

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smartgirlsaremean · 7 years

Note

Expanded universe ask game for fanfic writers!: Avonlea Books + 5?

OOPS MY HAND SLIPPED

Previously on Avonlea Books, Belle and Gold attended a launch party for her first children’s book. They were engaged to be married.

TEN YEARS LATER

Warmth and savory smells washed over Henry as he let himself into the Park Avenue brownstone. He’d barely had time to take off his coat before there was a thundering of footsteps in the hall, and three small bodies launched themselves at him. Grunting, he stumbled slightly on impact, but tried his best to hug all three kids back at the same time.

“Mama! Papa! Henry’s here!” yelled the youngest of them, her big brown eyes shining.

Henry reached out and ruffled her dark hair. “Hey, Aunt Miranda. You ready for some turkey?”

She nodded and grinned. “Papa bought two! He said with this many people and your hollow legs, we’d need enough food for an army. Do you really have hollow legs, Henry?”

“That’s just an expression, Randy, it means I eat a lot.” Henry put an arm around the boy nearest him and squeezed. “How ya doin’, Jake? Ready to get your butt kicked at Mario Kart?”

“Yeah, right,” his kid brother snorted. “I’m the best. I beat everybody.”

“That’s not true,” piped up eight-year-old Gideon. “Mama beat you last night.”

Jake frowned at the other boy. “I let her win.”

“You did not!”

“I did too!”

“You can’t argue with me, I’m your uncle!”

“Nuh-uh! You’re younger than I am, and uncles are older. Right, Henry?”

“Uh…well, Gid is Dad’s brother, Jake. So…I mean, yeah, he is our uncle.” Gideon stuck his tongue out at his nephew, and Jake scowled. “But that doesn’t mean…”

“Gideon, be nice to Jake.” Henry looked up to see that Belle had appeared, her face stern. “We’ve talked about this - just because you’re his uncle doesn’t mean you can boss him around.” Jake made a face at Gideon and Henry sighed. He loved them both, but they were so…competitive. Adolescence was gonna be a nightmare. “I wondered where my helpers had gone,” Belle continued. “Who wants to peel potatoes.”

“I do!” Jake said quickly. “Can I use a real knife instead of the peeler?”

“Not til you’re older, sweetheart. Come on, I’ll get you started. Gideon, will you help Miranda change her dress again?” Belle eyed her daughter’s outfit, which was covered in flour and butter and God knew what else. “Actually, Randy, darling, don’t worry about a dress. Put on some of your play clothes and you can change right before dinner. Honestly,” Belle confided to Henry as Gideon led his sister upstairs, “I don’t know why I thought the dress was a good idea. She’s the least dressy person I’ve ever met.”

Henry smiled and put his arms around her when she hugged him. “Your dad and grandpa are in the study,” she said. “Jefferson and Grace should be here any minute.”

Henry swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, smiled, and headed down the hall. He’d known Grace for years - her dad worked for his, and had once worked for Belle - and they’d been friends since middle school. They’d even shared a high school graduation party. She was cool, if a little weird, but that wasn’t surprising considering that her dad wore top hats and smiled like a Cheshire cat. He’d gone to school in Boston while she’d stayed in New York, and for one reason or another they had dropped out of touch, never quite managing to be at home at the same time, even during the summer. And then he’d run into her in Atlantic City on Spring Break, and…well, he hadn’t remembered her being quite so pretty. Or so funny. Or so…everything.

He took a breath and reminded himself that the last thing he needed was his grandfather figuring out he had a thing for Grace. Roderick Gold might be ruthless as a businessman, but he was an equally devoted family man, and the merest whiff of a possibility of a granddaughter-in-law would have him on high alert. Not that Henry’d even had the nerve to send Grace more than a couple of friendly emails, but that wouldn’t stop his grandfather from speculating.

“That’s a pretty good location, but when you retire aren’t you supposed to stop working?” his dad’s voice sounded fondly exasperated, and Henry walked in to find his grandfather and father hunched over some papers at the desk.

“I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in eight years,” Grandpa said dryly. “I’m quite looking forward to spending a few hours a day in a dark shop surrounded by inanimate objects.”

“Hey,” Henry said, drawing their attention.

“Hey, Henry,” Grandpa smiled.

Dad stood and walked over to pull him into a hug. “The roads weren’t bad, were they?”

“Nah, just a little wet. Did you guys finally pick a place for Grandpa’s store?”

“Yeah, it’s a few blocks away from the Greenwich Village store, so I can still bug him if I need to.”

“You’ve just done fine without me,” Grandpa pointed out. “You could probably have done even better if you’d taken the CEO position, though.”

“Nah, I like the VP spot better, you know that. Smith’s doing fine.”

“Is anyone from Belle’s side coming this year?” Henry asked. He didn’t know his step-grandmother’s family very well, but Joan was a hoot and Maurice was nice.

“No, they’re spending the holidays with Joan’s family.”

The doorbell rang and Dad waggled his eyebrows at Grandpa before heading to the door. Henry grinned when he heard his other grandparents’ voices. Grandma and Grandpa Nolan were very nice, and he loved them, but they always treated his Grandpa Gold like he was a tamed beast ready to snap its tether at any moment. Gold rolled his eyes and limped out into the hallway to welcome his guests properly.

Henry took a deep breath and looked around the study. Belle’s books had a place of honor just behind the desk - the two best-selling kids’ books that had made her name and the four others that hadn’t done quite as well. There was also a chess table set up to one side, the pieces in the middle of a game. As he looked over the game, trying to determine who was closest to checkmate, he heard the doorbell ring again.

He hoped there would be enough room for everyone, and that Ruby and her grandmother got here soon. Ruby had taken over the diner when her granny retired, and she always brought pie. Really, really good pie.

“Hi, Henry.”

His hand jerked and he knocked over one of the pawns on the board. He reached for it, trying to right it, but he missed and sent a few more pieces flying. “Shit,” he muttered. Panicking, he tried to duck down to pick up the dropped pieces, and his head hit the board, sending everything scattering across the floor.

“Are you okay?”

He turned to look at Grace, who looked like she wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I just…wow, Grandpa’s gonna be pissed.”

She pressed her lips together and fought a smile, her blue eyes sparkling, and Henry flushed. “It’s good to see you.”

He smiled mutely and gathered the pawns to set them back on the board. Of course he had to act like a complete idiot around a cute girl. His dad and grandpa had been the same way. Why couldn’t he have inherited his Grandpa Nolan’s smooth charm?

Grace seemed determined to talk to him, though, so that was good. “Are you still majoring in creative writing?” she asked.

“Double majoring. Creative writing and business management.” Henry gathered the pawns and set them back on the board. “How’s biology going?” Grace was going to be a veterinarian, which made sense because she was crazier about animals than anyone he knew, except maybe Ruby.

“Not bad. A lot of labs and late-night cramming sessions.” She bit her lip and looked behind her. “Look, you didn’t…you didn’t tell anyone that we met in Atlantic City, did you?”

“Uh…no. I mean, it’s not like I was supposed to be there either,” he pointed out. Neither of them were twenty-one yet, and it was sheer luck that they hadn’t been caught. Spring Break was supposed to be for good times and minor rule-breaking, but he knew neither of their parents would see it that way.

“Okay, good. It was nice to see you and everything, but if Dad knew…”

“Yeah. It’ll be our secret.”

Grace smiled. “I like that. Our secret.”

“Yeah.”

She leaned past him and looked at the board. “Who was winning?”

“No idea.” She was too close, and Henry leaned away. “Probably Grandpa, though. He’s the chess master, after all.”

“Yeah, but I bet Belle has ways of distracting him.”

“Don’t go there,” Henry warned. “Just don’t.”

“They have two kids, Henry. It’s not like you don’t know…”

“I can pretend they hatched out of eggs, can’t I? I mean it’s bad enough with my parents, but…”

“I think it’s sweet. They’re obviously still crazy about each other.” She shook her head. “I’ve always hoped I’d find someone I loved as much as Belle loves Mr. Gold.”

A soft smile worked its way onto Henry’s face. “Yeah, me too. Or my parents. They’re still pretty distressingly into each other. Of course, they did meet stealing a car, so I don’t think I wanna copy them too closely.”

“And I’d rather not fall for my future husband while he’s putting me out of business.” Grace looked thoughtful. “I guess what I like most about your parents and grandparents is that they’re friends, y’know? I mean they love each other, but they also really like each other. That’s important in a relationship, don’t you think?”

“Uh…yeah, that’s…that’s important.” Henry realized he was holding his breath and released it. “I was, uh…I was wondering if you…”

“Hey, kid, Grandma Nolan’s looking for you.” His mom poked her head in the door. “Hey, Grace.”

“Hi, Mrs. Gold.”

“God, call me Emma, please. Henry, come out here before she drives your grandpa crazy,” Mom said, and Henry couldn’t quite keep the slight grimace from his face. “Or…is this bad timing?” Her eyes turned speculative and she glanced between them with a sly grin.

“It’s fine,” Henry said hastily.

“‘Cause I can make your excuses, tell everyone you’re in here entertaining a pretty young lady all by…”

“Oh my God,” Henry groaned. He moved to the door, but Grace stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“We should get coffee tomorrow. Catch up.” Her eyes searched his. “That’s what you were going to ask me, right?”

“Yeah. Um. Cool. I gotta…” At her nod and smile, he walked to his mother, who was smiling widely.

“Don’t,” he muttered.

“Your grandpas are gonna be thrilled,” she teased.

“Why do I come back here?” Henry asked the ceiling. “Why do I torture myself like this?”

“Because you love us,” his mom pointed out, taking his arm.

He tried to scowl, but he couldn’t, because she was right. They were weird and mixed-up and complicated, but they were his family, and during the holidays there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

#rumbelle fic #extended universe ask game #avonlea books #my oldest child #anonymous

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theclaravoyant · 7 years

Note

High school AU: popular Bobbi has a crush on adorkable Jemma. Only problem is that Jemma hasn't realized she's gay yet.

AN ~ This was so much fun! I hope you like it.

Rated T for some sexual references, but it’s mostly fluff & mutual (& eventually resolved) pining

Currently accepting Pride prompts! here’s my askbox.

Read on AO3 (~3500wd)

Suddenly I See

“Shh – it’s Jemma’s turn.”

At Stanley High, the word of Bobbi Morse was law, so the students around her hushed. Bobbi leaned forward a little in her seat as Jemma Simmons, in jeans and an unassuming pale-pink t-shirt, stood and stepped up to perform. She laid a copy of the play from which she was reciting at the front of the stage, but of course, she didn’t need to double-check it. Katherine’s monologue from The Taming of the Shrew spilled from her lips in a lilting chant, word-perfect and faithfully emphatic. When she ended it on her knees with her hands raised up to an imaginary Petruchio, a murmur went around the room and the class halfheartedly applauded, as they had done for everyone else.

Well, most of the class applauded. Bobbi didn’t even clap once, though one hand absently drifted in an attempt to do so. The other one was too busy digging into the material of the seat, reminding her to be cool.

Lincoln elbowed Bobbi.

“Shut up, Campbell,” she muttered.

“Mr Campbell,” called the teacher in a crisp tone. “Perhaps you have something you’d like to share with the class?”

Raising his eyebrows at Bobbi mockingly, Lincoln obediently got out of his seat and jogged down the stairs, turning to bow up at her just as mockingly, before nodding a noncommittal apology toward the teacher and taking to the stage for his rendition of Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet. His monologue was a bit more bumbling than Jemma’s, in terms of word-perfection, but it was delivered emotively nonetheless, and Lincoln was her friend, so Bobbi applauded properly at the end of it - even if her eyes did keep drifting down to Jemma all the while.

While Bobbi was thus distracted, the gangly form of Antoine Triplett climbed over the row of seats that had separated them, and dropped down into Lincoln’s now-empty place.

“Hey now, what’s that face?” he wondered, prodding Bobbi with a finger.

“I’m going to do it,” Bobbi swore, her eyes fixed on Jemma. The bell rang – she was running out of time – she twisted in her seat. “I’m going to tell her how good she was.”

“Was she good though,” Trip mused, “or just English?”

“I don’t know,” Bobbi retorted. “Was your Othello good, or just Black?”

“Damn, jumping out of the gate fast with that one!” Trip exclaimed. “I’m just looking out for my girl! What’s the first rule, Bobbi? Your first rule? Never fall for the straight ones.”

“She’s not –“

Bobbi cut herself off. Her heart sunk. It was all well and good to imagine, but Jemma wasn’t out and in fact, as far as Bobbi could tell, hadn’t even thought to question the idea that she could be anything other than straight. In terms of her actual sexuality, that didn’t mean much, but in terms of Bobbi’s dating prospects, it meant a lot. It was an elephant in the room that would be incredibly poor form for her to point out. She’d helped many a fledgling gain their little gay wings, but the beginning of the journey was a path Jemma’s own feet would have to find.

Bobbi told herself this whenever she was overcome with the desire to grab Jemma and make out with her against a locker.

It was becoming less and less effective.

In fact, Bobbi was even starting to weave a story in her own head of a queer Jemma, based on their interactions, and the things that Bobbi had seen and imagined; nebulous possibilities fuelled by subtext. She was, more and more, getting her hopes up, and her first rule was collapsing under the weight of a crush with such potential that she had not even realised how far she had taken it until now. Until this moment. Until she watched Jemma, laughing and content with Fitz and Daisy down the front of class, utterly unburdened by this crush, or by the tumultuous self-inspection that came with questioning oneself intimately. She was happy, and Bobbi was happy, but also frustrated, because she couldn’t tell Trip that she hadn’t broken her first rule after all.

(Well. She couldn’t tell him yet.)

They hurried to next period in their own groups, and sat apart, like they always had, until the teacher rearranged them.

“Jemma Simmons – Bobbi Morse.”

Jemma squirmed with glee, and packed to change desks so hurriedly she almost dropped everything before she pulled her head in. Of course, in that moment, even she was not sure why she was so excited to be partnered with Bobbi. It was not as if they had not worked together before. It was not as if there were not half a dozen people of comparable ability in their class (though, she would argue, none on the same par of neatness or commitment as the two of them were). It was not as though Bobbi would consider it a memorable experience, either; in fact, Jemma found herself rather nervous that it would go badly. For all her intelligence and general likeability, she had a penchant for being blunt and, when she tried to steer away from that, “off-putting” or “suffocating.” It was a balance she had always struggled with but one that, for some reason, seemed especially important today. She must refrain from putting her foot in her mouth for the course of this two-week assignment. She could manage that, right? Yes. She and Bobbi would be friends, if it killed her.

(Friends. Later, she’d laugh about that.)

Friends could admire the way Bobbi seemed to look like a professional in the school-issue lab coats, right? It was purely aspirational. The rest of their class tended to look like bumbling children in oversized, overly generic white jackets. Bobbi looked like a proper Doctor, and one that Jemma would trust with her life. In a totally platonic, professional-admiration-based kind of way.

Friends could admire Bobbi’s handwriting too, of course, and smile at the little loops it made, right? Jemma wondered: how did she have time to write like that? Had it been bred into her? Genetically engineered? It wasn’t as if Jemma had the most chicken-scratchiest penmanship, of course, but when Bobbi wrote, she oozed perfection and Jemma couldn’t entirely quantify what it was. It just felt like anyone who could write both that level of content quality, and aesthetic quality, was worth mooning over.

Friends could admire the way Bobbi’s eyes looked, too. Couldn’t they? Of course they could. It was a matter of objectivity. Not only were they bright and intelligent, but they were an unusual and pleasant shade of blue: it was only natural to find them attractive. Bobbi’s face was made of bold shapes, with a strong jaw-line and cheekbones, and her eyes stood out. Her face was aesthetically pleasing. That was just a fact.

Right?

Not for the first time, Jemma’s eyes trailed down to the rainbow Pride flag pin that Bobbi kept on her pencil case. She herself had always admired Bobbi’s – well, her pride, Jemma supposed. Her out-ness, her confidence with it, and the way the school seemed not to mind about it all that much. No doubt she’d faced her fair share of demons, probably, but Bobbi was one of the popular girls here – even amongst guys, which Jemma found fascinating… had found fascinating… now was starting to find fascinating in a whole new light. Bobbi, everything Bobbi, had seemed unattainable just a few days before, but unattainable in a conceptual, personality-trait kind of way. Like the kind of person who had her life way too together to be real. But now, once it had entered her mind, another thought lodged in Jemma’s brain that maybe, her fascination had been related to the fact that Bobbi had been unattainable in other ways, too. Surrounded by her clique, and so high-achieving and beloved and athletic at the same time, and a social butterfly on top of that – Bobbi was enviable in her own right. But smart, fit, charming? Were those not all desirable traits too?

Jemma shook her head and twirled her pencil between her fingers, trying to draw herself back to the task at hand with a few rapid-fire conclusions. She had dated boys. Quite liked a few of them, and quite liked their advances too. She had never dated girls, or looked at one sexually really, except for objectively, but everyone did that, probably. She had a few female celebrity crushes, but didn’t everybody? So she wasn’t gay. Ipso facto, she didn’t have a crush on Bobbi and never had and never would and all that unattainability rubbish was just her getting up in her own head again. Damn psychology.

(Fortunately for her, Jemma would later recount, it is not that easy to kill an idea.)

Jemma shoved her eyes back to the board somewhat forcefully and Bobbi lowered her own, twirling a pencil absently as she stared. She sighed. She had been hoping, always hoping, and though somewhat prepared to be let down, it still hurt a little each time it happened. Each time Jemma looked, and then looked away; each time it seemed like there was a question, or even just a breath, on the tip of her tongue, and she did not let it fall. Bobbi was frustratingly sure now, that she was not imagining things, but Jemma seemed just as frustratingly sure to keep said things to herself. Sometimes, Bobbi daydreamed up a collection of haphazard, farcical scenarios designed to trigger in Jemma a rom-com-like revelation, but the thought of forcing it – whether she was imagining things or not – made Bobbi feel predatory and wrong. There was nothing to do but wait it out and see how things developed. Her crush was her own problem, not Jemma’s. And besides, Jemma clearly had enough of her own stuff to sort out.

Even if she was taking so long about it, and dancing so painstaking close to the truth, that Bobbi wanted to snap a pencil.

It wasn’t all frustrations though. Bobbi did allow herself some pleasantries in her own head, and complex bundle of attractions aside, Jemma was great to hang out with. She was smart, in lots of ways and on lots of topics, and she was energetic and kind for the most part, and she loved to talk. She was honest, about the good and the bad, and sometimes she was blunt to the point of rudeness to which Bobbi, though she’d struggle to admit it, could relate. Bobbi loved her, in ways that could not clearly be divided into friendship and romance. She loved the way Jemma’s eyes lit up when she got excited, because it was beautiful, but also because it meant she was happy. She loved the way Jemma tucked her hair behind her ears, both at the same time, whenever she was nervous or needed to concentrate. It just felt very her. Bobbi loved the care and enthusiasm with which Jemma distributed cupcakes to Bobbi’s group one lunchtime. Half of them were made with applesauce instead of butter, Jemma told her. Fitz had bet her they wouldn’t taste as good, so she wanted a blind test. Scientifically rigorous; fluffy and adorable. The eternal dichotomy of Jemma Simmons.

(The cupcake test was definitely not, Jemma maintained, an excuse to spend more of the day with Bobbi. And she definitely did not, she insisted, spend the rest of the day thinking about the way Bobbi had licked the soft pink icing off her lips, or how much Jemma wished those lips had been her own.)

Bobbi, of course, swiftly resigned herself to daydreaming alone about that icing and how good it would taste on Jemma’s lips. She dreamed about how Jemma’s pupils had dilated at the sight of it, and how much more it would’ve taken – not much more - to make her weak at the knees. She dreamed about spending a lazy morning baking with Jemma, dancing around in their pyjamas and making a mess of a fantasy kitchen she must have pulled from a movie or advertisement she’d since forgotten. Sometimes they had a dog, for some reason. She didn’t question it. It was only a daydream, after all. A stockpile of fuel for her unquenchable crush - not that she was trying that hard to quench it: if she only had two weeks, she was going to make it count.

But as those two weeks came to an end, Bobbi gathered her dreams and fantasies to one side, and committed herself to enjoying their last few days together for the fun and challenging assignment and vibrant friendship that it was. When the night of the science fair came at last, and it was time to present their project, it all flew by, flawless and fast. Too fast. Afterward, when the gravel crunched under her tyres as she pulled into Jemma’s drive to drop her home, Bobbi held her breath.

“Well… thanks for the lift,” Jemma said.

Her voice sounded a little shaky and wistful, but maybe that was just an effect of the silence, and Bobbi’s own mind. Or maybe she could feel it too – that slight ache that was now making a home in Bobbi’s chest. An ache full of the knowledge that they could have had so much more and that they were about to watch it slip away. Tomorrow, they’d return to their normal seats in biology. They’d return to their regular groups at lunch, and to sitting on opposite sides of the theatre in drama, and to their pre-This patterns of after school lives and extra curriculars. They’d return to how it was, which had been fine, but hadn’t been all it could be.

Still, Bobbi smiled.

“No problem,” she said, but the words left her lips just as Jemma took in a rush of air and blurted:

“How did you know?”

Jemma startled herself when the question came out, but her fingers refused to reach for the door handle and her body seemed determined to hold her here until she’d got some kind of response. First, Bobbi took a moment of silence to turn the car’s engine off (and to lock away her crush; it was not the time or the place for it). Then she looked back at Jemma with more longing than she meant to, and with a smile.

“Know about what?” she asked, because know about me, or know about you? felt like it would send Jemma running.

“Know about –“ Jemma stumbled through it. “You know, that you liked girls. How did you know? And, when? Why? What does it feel like?”

Not the questions of somebody curious, or looking for a thread to pull. No. These were questions Bobbi herself had asked, on more than one occasion, and they made her smile deepen.

“It feels amazing, first of all,” she said. “Although, there’s a lot of doubt involved too. I’m working on it, but sometimes it feels like there’s something to prove.”

Jemma felt her heart swell and shrink again, in a moment. Bobbi had answered a question she hadn’t thought to ask, and Jemma knew in that moment that Bobbi had seen through her. Strangely enough, though, it didn’t make her want to run. Rather, she felt like reaching down into herself and pulling out more of herself, of her soul, to show Bobbi. She listened instead.

“I guess I’d say I knew,” Bobbi continued, “a long time ago. Well, not that long. Middle school. My first kiss was a girl, even though my prom date was a guy. He dumped me the day before the dance, and my friend found me alone outside ‘coz I’d still gone for some reason, and we ended up kissing. Just a little peck on the lips, really, but it was a kiss. I was twelve. It opened up a door for me, I guess, and I went exploring through it, and here I am. But not everybody knows that young. And not everybody knows with a kiss. Sometimes it’s a lot more conceptual and harder to figure out. It’s like, you think you want that girl’s dress, you know, but then actually it’s more like… you want that girl’s dress on your bedroom floor.”

She laughed, and Jemma found herself laughing too. She’d been expecting this conversation to be a lot heavier, and while it certainly felt significant, with every piece of advice Bobbi offered, her heart felt lighter and lighter. Bobbi didn’t ask her to share her own feelings and talk through them – for which Jemma was grateful, although she did offer the occasional tidbit – but they talked for a long time about the nature of different forms of attraction and the complexity of figuring it all out. It seemed simple and complex both at once, Jemma thought to herself, and as Bobbi talked her through some of the labels – the complexities - she felt the acceptance – the simplicity – settle in the back of her heart and her mind.

I like girls.

I like Bobbi.

I like girls.

I like Bobbi.

Does she like me?

“…and – oh, shit,” Bobbi cursed. “I’ve got to be home by midnight. Sorry to kick you out, but I’ve gotta go.”

“It’s no problem,” Jemma assured her. “I should be getting inside too. Thanks for the talk.”

“Anytime.”

“But- um, don’t tell anyone at school about it, okay? I’m still thinking through it.”

“Sure thing. Take your time.”

Jemma sighed, relieved and satisfied, and got out of the car, gathered her books, and strode up the drive with a spring in her step and a grin on her face. Bobbi grinned after her as she started up the car, and tried not to fist-pump the air as she drove away.

It didn’t go back to the way it was before – not quite. How could it, why would it, after that? Jemma did go back to spending more time with Fitz and Daisy, but she smiled at Bobbi when they passed in the hall, or sat across the room from each other. Bobbi put in the Good Word of a Popular Girl on Jemma’s behalf when she wanted something, and helped pull sway in the Student Council elections – in return, she jested, for some more of those applesauce cupcakes, which Jemma was happy to provide. They danced around each other for a while, a pleasant equilibrium of mutual crushing, while Jemma sorted herself out. Bobbi slipped her resources and kept her secrets. Jemma told Fitz and Daisy, and when she was ready, came to school with three little star badges in a row on her pencil case: one pink, one purple, one blue.

At a gesture from Jemma, Bobbi took the seat beside her instead of her usual in biology. Their partners swapped without a word, if perhaps a bit of a grin. Nobody questioned the ways of Bobbi Morse, but the rumour mill was in full swing by now. This bit of gossip was one of the juicier ones in the saga so far. Watching the other students murmur excitedly, Jemma tucked a lock of hair behind her ears. Bobbi shook her head.

“Ignore them,” she said, and nodded at the stars. “You figured something out?”

Jemma beamed, and felt her chest expand a little.

“I’m still tossing up between yellow and purple,” she said, “but it’s early days, so I’m happy.”

“Well, that’s good.” Bobbi found herself blushing, cheeks burning with the question she’d been hanging onto for so long. Instead, she asked: “What’d you get for production? Happy with that too?”

“Lead.” Jemma grinned smugly.

“Of course,” Bobbi agreed. “I’m stage manager.”

“Well, you know what that means.”

Jemma’s tone was laden with possibilities that captured Bobbi’s attention like the smell of freshly baked goods on a windowsill. She almost laughed at Bobbi’s expression as she expanded on her offer:

“Lots of after-school stays… Long rehearsal hours together - I’ll be called a lot, after all. And I might need a ride. A few rides, in fact.”

Jemma raised an eyebrow, and Bobbi caught on.

“Some of those rehearsals go to six, seven o’clock,” Bobbi mused. “We might have to get dinner together sometime.”

“That we might.”

“I guess it’s settled, then, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”

“How are you feeling?”

Bobbi laughed a little, watching the blush creep up Jemma’s cheeks instead of a verbal answer. That dizzying validation: Bobbi remembered it well, so instead of probing Jemma further, she intertwined their fingers together below the desk. Their hands hung together until the teacher walked in, when they reluctantly crept apart and back to work. A few of the students behind them snickered with laughter, but this time Jemma didn’t seem bothered. She sat taller, as attentive as ever, and the class launched onward, with the pleasant pressure of Bobbi’s grasp still tingling in her fingertips.

#simmorse #simmorsefic #aosfemslash #aospositivitynet #aosficnet2 #happy pride!#prompt me stuff #clara's fic tag #Anonymous

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thebrunettewriter · 7 years

Text

Strength of the Songbird

(I love this picture so much! And it’s one of the few pictures that has all four pillar men together!) Summary: Natalene is an intern at the Speed Wagon Foundation tasked with monitoring the captured vampire Santana. While the job is fairly boring and very quiet, she's perfectly happy just singing to herself. Little does she know, her captive audience is far from unconscious and unaware. When a particular incident leads to Santana's escape, she finds the vampire's interest focused on her; an interest that only gets stronger after he's freed. Featured Characters: Santana, Kaaz|Cars, Wamuu|Wham!, Esidisi|ACDC Word Count: 3,407 Author’s Note: This is based off a dream I had after watching several episodes of Battle Tendency one night. Please note! I have not finished watching Battle Tendency! I don’t think I’m even half way! Requests Open!

The sound of the faint hum of machines fills the almost empty, medium sized room lit only by the light of the large UV Chamber that took up one wall of the room, the metal garage door that kept its singular stone occupant currently closed to dim the room even further to let only the light from the windows in the door through. Other than the nearly dead vampire trapped under the light of the lamps there was one soul person in the room, monitoring the machinery and the prisoner behind her. A figure, lit up by the UV chamber behind her, eyes focused on the readings on the monitor that rested in the podium in front of her, stood tall; a brunette woman in a lab coat. Appearing younger than the mid-twenties the woman was, the female was an intern to the Speed Wagon foundation. Though her dedication to her job, willingness to do the dirty jobs that needed to be done, and her obvious capabilities, she had been granted the coveted responsibility of being the singular in person operator of Santana’s chamber—for the graveyard shift anyway. The intern, while new, was far from a fool. She knew it was because no one else wanted to be alone in the quiet room with the unstoppable killer at night, and they knew she’d take the job without a fuss. Granted, she wasn’t completely alone. On close circuit cameras, though without sound, security as well as several scientists, monitored the room as well as the Vampire imprisoned inside of his cell. Despite this, the twelve-hour shift was quiet and boring. So, the brunette usually took advantage of the lack of audio in the cameras and (mostly) empty room to sing to herself, occupying her time and mind with the lyrics of whatever tune happened to be in her head at the time. While she was by no means an opera singer or professional in any capacity, she was slightly better than average with a kind, mature, and yet somehow sweet, voice. The woman certainly had fun singing to herself and her, literally, captive audience—though she doubted he could hear her. The sound of humming that didn’t belong to the machines echoed throughout the small room quietly as the woman recalled the song she’d heard on the radio on the way into the facility. “Sweet dreams are made of these~” She sung quietly to herself as her head nodded with the rhythm, her chestnut hair--tied into ponytail with only a few strands and sweeping bangs hanging loose in her face--swaying with the motions, “Who am I dis-ah-gree~ Travel the world and the seven seas~ Everybody’s looking for some-“ The woman stops and looks up as the first set of double doors, one’s designed to keep out pathogens normally, or in this case crazy vampires. As the first sets of doors close, a second set open and reveal a cute, petite, blonde woman. Even if the blonde, another young intern who’d only been with the company for a few months, hadn’t been remarkably small, standing at only five-foot-two with a small frame to match, she would still seem small compared to the brunette. As the younger woman strode over to the one stationed in front of the monitor, the brunette’s size and strength was apparent. Standing at five-foot-eight, the brunette was bigger than her height would suggest--though she was taller still than most of the women she worked with, as well as some of the men. Her frame was disguised, purposefully, under her white lab coat and long pants, but when compared to the small woman now standing beside her, it was impossible to hide. Her shoulders were broad and muscled under the coat, her frame easily twice, perhaps three times, bigger than the smaller woman’s. There were many rumors as to why the woman was so big--most revolving around waterfalls, mountains, and Siberian bears--as well as bets going around to see how much she could lift—though many gave up when she lifted a piece of equipment nearly two hundred pounds after it ‘broke’ (the team tricked her by sabotaging the machine themselves then asking for help). “Good Evening, Emily,” The brunette hums kindly, voice soft and quiet despite what her aforementioned size and strength might suggest. The blonde smiles up at her and hands her the bottle of water in her hand. Emily often brought her food or drink whenever she stopped by—usually on some order to collect data or check on the brunette. Taking the bottle graciously, she opens the cap and drinks it eagerly, parched from hours without anything to drink. “Good Evening, Natalene,” The smaller woman responds back with a soft smile as her eyes flit past the woman and to the UV Chamber. Out of the corner of her eye, the brunette could see the younger blonde shiver at the thought of the vampire behind the door. “Don’t you ever get nervous?” Emily mutters, blue eyes lit up by the light from the chamber. Natalene just shrugs and gives a soft hum. “No real reason to get nervous, I guess, it’s a pretty quiet job,” She says as she lowers the bottle and looks over her shoulder in the direction of the vampire as well. “He’s not particularly talkative,” the teasing tone in her voice is clear and she nudges the blonde with a grin. The sound of the blonde’s giggles is cut short abruptly as the entire room is suddenly plunged into darkness and the sound of the machines cute out. The power went out. The brunette feels a tight, shaking grasp grip her arm and ball the sleeve of her lab coat into tight fists. The room was filled suddenly with the dull red emergency lights. --- Natalene stands protectively in front of the blonde crouched in the corner of the room, shaking and sobbing with fear of the huge figure standing, nearly naked, before them, rippling, deadly, muscles illuminated by the red emergency lights. The sound of banging and shouting could be heard, though muffled, behind the first layer of double doors, but it was clear that the security team wasn’t going to get to them quickly enough. The brunette stares down the man with a fierce but wide eyed expression, much like a cornered dog baring its teeth. For several seconds, neither of them moved, the huge man staring her down with a look of…curiosity. He didn’t seem at all afraid of the brunette, though that was hardly surprising, but he didn’t move to consume her as she had been told he’d done with the German Soldiers when he’d been first captured. Santana takes a step forward, which causes the brunette to press herself further against the blonde, now completely hidden behind her larger frame. “Stay Back!” She snarls with a sharp, but slightly quivering, tone. The man pauses for only a moment before surging forward with a blinding speed that even Nat’s quick reflects could only react to by throwing up her arms in defense and close her eyes. And yet, it wasn’t the feeling of the creature pressing against her or breaking bones that she felt, but a sudden vice grip on her, surprisingly slim, wrists that brought them both together in one huge hand. Her eyes snap open just in time to see Santana’s arm flex in order to pull her up and off her feet—not difficult given their size difference—and to the man’s side, holding her away from the cowering blonde. The Vampire’s eyes do not fall on the tiny human in front of him, but rather, focus on the woman caught in his grasp, her arms pulled taunt over her head as her feet dangle just shy of touching the concrete floor. “Songbird…” He says, as if it were her name, red eyes fixed on her brown ones. “You are in the way of my sustenance.” It’s then that the man’s gaze falls back on the blonde who lets out a loud whimper upon feeling his eyes on her. “NO!” The brunette snarls, flexing her arms and rotating her wrists towards his thumbs, which give without much of a fight to the force of her movement. The man looks back in slight surprise as the brunette hits the ground and immediately launches forward towards him with a speed that was uncommon among men—or perhaps this speed was normal to the humans of this time. The man doesn’t seem to notice or care as the woman’s arms wrap around his (remarkably thin for his size) waist…till he suddenly found that his feet were no longer touching the ground. “Hmph!” The woman stands tall suddenly, hands gripping her forearms tight as she hauls the oversized man over her shoulder and takes several long strides away from the blonde…before the weight throws her balance off and she slips, unintentionally body slamming the man into the ground, stunning him. “RUN!” The brunette shouts, taking in the startled man’s shock quickly and shouting over her shoulder at the blonde. Emily scrambles to her feet with a loud sob and dashes to the double doors—one of which was now finally open—as the brunette pulls herself to her feet quickly. She runs up as the blonde runs into the inner set of doors and bangs on them loudly, hysterical sobs just as loud as her fist on the glass. The door was open just a crack, the security team on the other side using a crowbar to try and pull the door open as several others on the other side struggle to hold open the doors that had already been pried free as they tried to close again. “Move!” The woman shouts at the security team as she steps up behind the blonde quickly, trapping the younger woman between herself and the door as her hands slam against the door, fingers slipping between the crack the other men had created. The man, wide eyed behind their riot masks, take a startled step back and stare in shock as this intern and female lets out a shout, muscling rippling under her lab coat, and pries open the doors. Held just far enough to let in a person, she leans forward suddenly, her chest colliding with the hysterical blonde and sending her through the crack and into the arms of one of the guards. “Go! Get out of here!” She shouts at them. Emily turns abruptly and looks up at her with wide, panicked, eyes. “But-!?” The blonde, along with several of the other guards, seemed to realize the meaning of the woman’s words and step forward to try and get to her. But the brunette offers them a kind smiles. “It’s okay,” She assures before releasing her grip on the doors. BAM! Nat jumps in surprise at the sound of another, much larger, pair of hand grab the doors just as she lets go. Her eyes go wide in shock and fear as she looks back and finds a large expanse of a well-muscled chest behind her. Her gaze trails up to the man’s face, which is still surprisingly calm and, perhaps, a little intrigued. “I’ll see to you in a moment, Songbird. Go sit over there,” Before she can respond to his command or react, his knee comes up and collides violently with her stomach, arching in such a way that sends her to the side and into the wall beside him. Her back hits the metal surface with a sickening thud, the breath knocked form her lungs as she collapses to the ground on her side, her body seizing up and her vision growing dark around the edges. Santana, satisfied in the knowledge that the human of interest would be unable to move for the next several minutes, turns his attention to the less interesting humans in all black before him. The mortal before him, brave or stupid enough to try and fight while the others fled with the blonde female, shakes as he raises his weapon, one much like the one he’d seen in Germany. Stepping forward, the cool metal and trembling hands of the man sink into the flesh of his stomach, caught there as he begins to digest the man. The guard lets out a guttural scream of pain and fear as he leans forward, trying to pry himself free while also trying to maintain as much distance from the rest of the Vampire as possible. The vampire doesn’t notice the near silent sounds of footsteps until he sees a familiar figure beneath him, surprising both men as the brunette steps over one of Santana’s spread legs with one of her own. She ducks her head under the arm still holding the doors apart, her hand reaching out and resting on the other human’s chest. “Leave,” She manages to wheeze out—clearly still not recovered from the throw despite her ability to get up and walk—before she uses what remained of her current strength to shove the guy away from Santana and out the other set of doors before they slam closed as the two guard remaining to hold them open stumble away from the brunette and the huge man behind her. The two formally holding the door grab the, now handless, man under each arm and take off, sparing a glance back to see the unforgettable sight behind them. The brunette waves behind the glass with a soft smile on her face, her brows upturned. Behind her, the tall beast of a man dwarfs even her size, seeming to encompass her entire being as he stands behind her, still holding open the doors. Stepping into the room between the doors, almost touching the brunette now, Santana lets the doors shut behind him as he looms over the human in front of him. Shaking now softly, either from fear or her still unstable breathes, the intern turns and looks up at the huge man with a nervous but stubborn expression on her face. “Interesting…” Is the only warning she gets before a fist, moving too fast for her to see, suddenly drives into her stomach with only enough force to send her consciousness into the black and her body to the floor—though the vampire is gracious enough to catch her before she does. ----- Rousing slowly, the first thing the brunette notices is the tight pain in her gut, one the feels like she’d just done a thousand sit ups in one sitting. The effort not to groan in pain is immense, but she really doesn’t want to feel what would happen if she’d use the muscles required to do so. The next thing she registers is the swaying of her limbs and body, like she’d fallen asleep in a hammock. A confused frown creases her brow as she slowly opens her eyes. While it takes a few moments for her eyes to focus, her frown only worsens when she realizes she’s staring a large expanse of flesh colored mountains and valleys from what appeared to be a bird’s eye view. The realization of what she’s staring at brings with it the sudden flood of memories of her events leading up to her bout of unconsciousness. With a sharp gasp, she flings her head back and pulls herself up with her arms on the shoulder of the one carrying her, doing her best to ignore the stabbing pain radiating through her stomach as she struggles in the grip of the Vampire; a grip that does not waver. “We’re almost there, Songbird,” The man says, his voice rumbling through her body through her contact with him. The woman looks back in the direction they are headed and sees the opening of a huge cave, lit by a fire clearly by the flickering red and orange light. She noticed the shadows of several large figures standing inside of the cave and her heart sinks. “The dog has returned,” Comes a strong but light voice echoing from the cave as the vampire holding her steps into it. Natalene sees the earth suddenly come a lot closer as Santana kneels on one leg and bows his head—the shoulder which he carried her following though she still can’t touch the ground. “And it looks as though he brought something as well,” Comes a different voice, a chuckle in his voice. “An interesting human I have found that might be to your liking, Lord Kars,” The man beneath her says before shifting his grip and grabbing the woman by the back of her long white coat, turning her to face the men as he sets her on the ground. The woman doesn’t wait to take in the sight of the three huge men standing before her, somehow more imposing than the one holding her. She instead lifts her hands above her head quickly, slipping free of her lab coat and turning as she lands, darting for the exit with the quickness of a frightened rabbit. The sudden breeze is her only warning before a massive wall of a man appears before her, a tall blonde in a loin cloth and open vest. Despite being tall and imposing, a trait he clearly uses to bar her way, his arms folded over his massive chest, the female doesn’t break stride, her shoulder slamming into his side. To the surprise of men present, Santana included despite having seen and experienced her strength, the Vampire is actually forced to one side by her strength. She doesn’t stop to fight or attack him, however, as she doesn’t break stride and barrels past him. The woman doesn’t get far before a pair of arms wrap around her middle and haul her off of her feet, pulling her towards a bare chest. The man barely has time to chuckle before the female in his arms goes limp suddenly and easily slides down his chest and away from his grip, her hands raised above her head to make her descent easier. She hits the ground running, darting to one side to keep away from reaching hands before darting towards the woods outside the cave. Just as she finally breeches the mouth of the cave, she feels a shiver shoot up her spine as she stares at the dark woods before her and she’s turning before she can register what her instincts have told her. The sharpness of the nearly one-eighty-degree turn forces her ankle into an awkward angle, which she then promptly steps on with her full weight. The sound of the pop is almost deafening but the human, driven by fight or flight, can feel none of the pain. The brunette runs at the jagged cliff face surrounding the mouth of the cave and is almost twenty feet up before the turban wearing Vampire steps out of the shadows of the woods, staring up at the human with a slightly impressed and amused expression. He approaches the rock wall slowly as the woman continues to climb before suddenly slamming a fist into the rock face, sending violent vibrations up the wall and jarring the woman’s grip. It almost looks as though she might manage to hang on, but the small piece of rock she was gripping gives under her, not inconsiderable, weight. Natalene doesn’t have time to scream, eyes wide as she falls. But instead of the ground, she finds herself in an equally hard but much less jagged and bone breaking grip of the largest man. He smirks down at her, looking pleased and chuckling lightly at her escape attempts. “What an interesting human you’ve found, dog,” The man says even as the human in his grip struggles to free herself. He strides back into the cave just as the human manages to worm her way out of his hold and onto the ground again. Looking up, she finds four vampires in total surround her, blocking her escape route. She looks between all of them as the adrenaline wears off and she suddenly feels the pain of her ankle, which buckles beneath her and sends her to the ground. The white-haired vampire takes a step towards her, but the female uses her good leg to force herself backwards, snarling at them like a feral animal as she moves backwards till she finds herself trapped in a corner of the cave, completely at their mercy.

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ebaeschnbliah · 7 years

Text

SAVING JOHN WATSON

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ONCE AGAIN PLAYING WITH MIRRORS ON THE BASIS OF SYMBOLISM

GOING TO DINNER TO CATCH A KILLER

PILOT: Sherlock already knows 'what' the killer is. A cabbie.

SHERLOCK: There are cars that pass like ghosts, unseen, unremembered. There are people we trust, always, when we’re alone, when we’re lost, when we’re drunk. We never see their faces, but every day we disappear into their cars and let the trap close around us.

And when a black cab pulls up at the other side of the steet Sherlock knows exactly what's going on.

SHERLOCK: I give you the perfect murder weapon of the modern age, the invisible car. The London cab.

Sherlock reacts immediately. With a little help of Angelo (code word 'headless nun') he acts like a drunk and approaches the taxi. The plan goes wrong though. Serial killer Jeff Hope is able to drug Sherlock. After bundling the half conscious man into his cab, where he quickly passes out, Hope drives away. John notices that something isn't right and starts running after the cab .... without his cane.

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ASIP: Sherlock hasn't the 'faintest idea' who would be hunting in the middle of a crowd.

A black cab parks at the side of the road across Angelo's which raises Sherock's suspicion.

SHERLOCK: Look across the street. Taxi. SHERLOCK: Stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out. SHERLOCK: Why a taxi? Oh, that’s clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever

On the off chance that the serial killer could be inside the cab Sherlock and John (without his cane) chase the taxi through the streets of London . Sherlock is right and wrong at the same time. He suspects the passenger to be the murderer when in fact - as it turns out a little later - it is the cabbie. Sherlock and John return to 221b without having achieved what they set out for. After a while the cabbie arrives here as well and lures Sherlock into his car with the promise to explain how he was able to talk people into suicide.

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THE MAIN-DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THESE SCENES:

PILOT: It is Sherlock who phones and approaches Jeff Hope

Sherlock knows already the cabbie is the murderer. John and Angelo are in on the plan and observe from afar. Sherlock gets druged, abducted and is then completely helpless at the mercy of the serial killer. John chases the taxi on foot back to Baker Street (a five minute walk between 221b and Angelo's)

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ASIP: It is Jeff Hope who phones and approaches Sherlock

Sherlock follows him willingly and with full knowledge that this is the murderer. Sherlock doesn't tell anyone about it. He gets never druged in this version. John is able to trace Sherlock to Roland-Kerr Further Education College because the serial killer neglected to get rid of the treacherous pink phone.

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HOW DOES THIS STORY START ?

John Watson the soldier, the doctor, comes invalided back from the war - unable to work in his job anymore. He doesn't get on with his sister Harry. Because John can't afford London on his army pension he is looking for a flatshare. His therapist tells John that writing down in a blog everything that happens to him would be very helpful. Problem is ... nothing happens to him. And John keeps a gun in his nightstand.

THINGS THAT HAPPEN BOTH IN THE PILOT & ASIP

John (with his cane) meets Sherlock at 221b.

Sherlock reacts enthusiastically when he finally gets summoned by DI Lestrade on the case of the serial suicide murders. 'Oh, it's Christmas!' Sherlock exclaims and full of excitement he rushes out of the door.

A frustrated John stays behind who damns his bad leg, his disability, for being the reason he has lost a life full of action, adventure and meaning.

Unexpectedly Sherlock comes back to invite John on the case.

After having investigated the crime scene Sherlock rushes off again, leaving John behind a second time.

Unexpectedly Sherlock calls John back to Baker Street to discuss the case. Then he invites him on the hunt for the serial killer and ... to dinner.

AND WHAT HAPPENS AT THE BEGINNING OF TLD

Faith Smith (with a cane) comes to Baker Street seeking the help of Sherlock Holmes.

It's about murder. Later it turns out that a serial killer is involved.

Sherlock notices certain things about Faith. Her isolation, her limited funds, that she left her job.

But he isn't interested in her case and sends her away.

Unexpectedly Sherlock calls her back because suddenly he realizes somthing very important: Faith is on the verge of killing herself.

Sherlock invites her to dinner and takes her case.

In these scenes Faith Smith serves as a mirror for John Watson. For one second Sherlock even sees John in his mind ... walking with his cane down a dimly lit street (ASIP). There is the memory of a damp coat (lady in pink) and there is a handbag too.

PILOT & ASIP - a smallish suitcase without the weight of a pink phone

TLD - a handbag with the revealing weight of a heavy gun

Sherlock reads the symptoms of depression and suicidal tendencies correctlly and is aware of the dangerous condition Faith is in.

SHERLOCK: It’s too heavy. You said I was your last hope and now you’re going out into the night with no plan on how you’re getting home ... and a gun.

And Sherlock reacts really sweet. He invites Faith on a stroll through the nightly streets of London and later to dinner with fish and chips. He explains patiently and in great detail how he deduces certain things and how he draws his conclusions from them. They walk and talk the whole night. When the new morning dawns Sherlock demands Faith's gun as payment for taking her case and throws it into the Thames.

SHERLOCK: “Taking your own life.” Interesting expression. Taking it from who? Oh, once it’s over, it’s not you who’ll miss it. SHERLOCK: Your own death is something that happens to everybody else. SHERLOCK: Your life is not your own. Keep your hands off it.

John's gun gets thrown into the Thames as well. It happens at the end of the PILOT.

SHERLOCK: Where is it? JOHN: Where’s what? SHERLOCK: Don’t. Just don’t. What did you do with the gun? JOHN: Oh, er, bottom of the Thames.

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AND WHO WOULD BE THE VICTIM OF A SERIAL KILLER ?

SHERLOCK: He wants to kill anyone. He’s a serial killer! SMITH: Anyone.

FAITH’s VOICE: Anyone. MOLLY’s VOICE: Anyone. MARY’s VOICE: Anyone

SMITH (multiple times): Anyone

(In total 'anyone' is mentioned by different characters 28 times in TLD)

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SERIAL KILLER JEFF HOPE FROM THE PILOT:

CABBIE: Anyone who didn’t know where they were going, ’cause they were drunk or lost or new in town. CABBIE: Anyone I could walk through the wrong door

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Interestingly the term 'anyone' is at no time uttered by serial killer Jeff Hope in ASIP.

- SAVING JOHN WATSON -

In the PILOT as well as in ASIP Sherlock deduces a lot of things about John which he tells him right away - first in Bart's lab and on the next day during the taxi ride to the crime scene. But Sherlock is not the only one who notices certain things. The audience gets included in the deduction process as well. We are the ones who are able to watch an isolated and depressed John Watson in his sparsely furnished flat. His nightmares are the very first thing the story starts with. It is clear from the beginning that this man is in a really bad condition. This is a man who has lost his joy for life ... who has lost his meaning of life. The way John looks and moves when he is alone in his dim little room ... how he eyes the gun he's keeping in his nightstand ... tells that he is very near the mark of using it on himself.

But what the audience doesn't see is, if Sherlock Holmes notices the same things as well. Does he deduce about John in the PILOT and in ASIP what he deduces about Faith in TLD?

Looking at John ... does Sherlock see 'suicidal, alone, strapped for cash, good cook and isolation' ?

Does he notice that John is in great danger? That he is in dire need to be saved? If so ... how does Sherlock react? Well, he invites John on the case and to dinner ... very similar to how he reacts with Faith. Therefore Sherlock might very well have deduced the same things about Joh Watson. Just Sherlock's reaction isn't shown to the audience. Or ist it?

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AND ONCE AGAIN THE LYING DETECTIVE

This episode is woven of several story threads (in fact, the whole show is). If I had to name the two main threads in TLD I would call them:

'THE EVOLUTION OF SHERLOCK: CHAPTER 'DRUG ADDICTION'

'SAVE JOHN WATSON: CHAPTER 'GET THE HELL ON WITH IT'

Actually, the second title could be used for the whole of S4 (or more?):

'Save John Watson' - The first episode TST - ends with this request

The whole second episode TLD - is about this request.

The third episode TFP - seems to bring the story in the perfect position for achieving this request.

Hopefully S5 will present the successfull outcome of this request.

((As mentioned in several previous posts (X X X X X X) I think that Mary isn't a real person but a character 'casted' (invented) by Sherlock to serve as an avatar for himself on his 'Mind Stage'. 'It's for an experiment'. Additional information regarding this idea can be found here and here and also in 'Why Mary?' by @loveismyrevolution. In that case the 'insturction' how to save John Watson actually comes from Sherlock himself - it is the result of his own deductions.))

THERE IS A CASE SHERLOCK ..... YOU NEED TO DO SOMETHING ..... SAVE JOHN WATSON ..... SAVE HIM SHERLOCK ..... SAVE HIM

This is how TST ends. And TLD starts with a case that mirrors the PILOT as well as ASIP in a lot of things. Probably to drive home the point as clear as possible - right after Faith 'vanishes' mysteriously by daybreak near the Thames and Sherlock starts wandering aimlessly through the streets - the audience as well as Sherlock is reminded of the main purpose of this episode again:

Don’t think anyone else is going to save John, because there isn’t anyone

And then later, near the climax of this story, the audience gets in detail Sherlock's instructions from the DVD which has already been given to him in the prior episode (TST). What he has to do to achieve the very important task of saving John Watson:

Don’t think anyone else is going to save him, because there isn’t anyone. It’s up to you. Save him. But I do think you’re gonna need a little bit of help with that, because you’re not exactly good with people, so here’s a few things you need to know about the man we both love – and more importantly what you’re going to need to do to save him.

You can’t save John because he won’t let you. He won’t allow himself to be saved. The only way to save John ... is to make him save you. Go to Hell, Sherlock. Go right into Hell, and make it look like you mean it.

Go and pick a fight with a bad guy. Put yourself in harm’s way. If he thinks you need him, I swear ... he will be there.

And exactly this is what Sherlock is doing in 'The Lying Detective'. He picks a fight with a really bad guy. He puts himself into mortal danger. He bets his own life by playing an insanely risky game. Druged and completely helpless Sherlock submerges himself to be at the mercy of a extremely dangerous serial killer. And John starts running to help him. Well .... he starts driving .....

Oh .... but hasn't all this happened before? It's on the tip of my tongue .....

ONCE AGAIN - BACK TO THE BEGINNING - TO THE PILOT

Sherlock invites John on their fist case. He invites him to dinner at Angelo's. Sherlock picks a fight with a bad guy (and he doesn't inform the police ... really nothing new under the sun).

Sherlock puts himself into harm's way. He gets druged, bundled into a cab and is kidnapped by a serial killer.

JOHN: Something’s gone wrong. ANGELO: No, no, no. All part of the plan. ANGELO: Sherlock always has a plan. JOHN: Yes, and it’s gone wrong.

And John Watson immediately starts running .... chasing the cab ... attempting to save Sherlock Holmes. First part of the plan achieved? It seems ....

THE FINAL PROBLEM MIGHT BE A THREE PATCH PART PROBLEM

GOING TO HELL

AVOIDING SAMARRA

STAYING ALIVE

Hoping John arives in time. Because the only way to save John ... is to make him save Sherlock. Either they both survive or neither of them. Because #Sherlock Holmes lives means #John Watson lives. This show runs in circles!

Right from the beginning of the story? It almost seems so ....

Using the same filmset for PILOT and TLD X

I leave you to your own deduchtions. Thank you for the scripts @callie-ariane

@gosherlocked @isitandwonder @monikakrasnorada @tjlcisthenewsexy @longsnowsmoon5 @yan-yae @the-7-percent-solution @tendergingergirl @may-shepard @moffat-rocks @sarahthecoat @marchinaugusta @impatient14 @camillo1978 @shylockgnomes

#saving john watson #the Pilot - asip - tld #mirrors #symbolism

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syn-weaver · 7 years

Text

Science and Friendship

I’m thinking I might continue this someday. There’s room for more.

Anyway, enjoy!

Science is a lot of trial and error really. Cures, machines, anything really that has ever been made by science probably never worked the first time. That’s part of the process though right? You improve on the mistakes of previous attempts and eventually you get a complete success.

Often times that takes a while, a very long while. Years, decades, sometimes the work is carried on by descendants and others. Sometimes the original work is flawed at the very start and only gets fixed a thousand years down the line. Sometimes the improvements are also flawed and you have to start all over again.

But it eventually works. Eventually you complete what you were trying to do and you make another scientific breakthrough in the process. You feel good, you feel proud, and then you tackle the next challenge.

Of course that list bit is really only applicable if you’re a scientist. Which in the case of one Yusei Fudo, he was. A damn good one at that if you ask around.

It was hard not to give Yusei praise. His Fortune system had done so much for Neo Dominio, even if only a few people knew the real reason behind him making it. Like he would always say in those glory days…

“I will save the future!”

Something that he has done a fair bit by now, but there’s always calamities to avoid. They were like a minefield sometimes.

So what’s the great scientist working on now you may ask? A better D-Wheel? A new electrical system for the city? Lunch? All those are pretty small compared to what he is actually doing.

I mean it’s not every day you make a time machine.

This wasn’t Yusei’s first experience with time either. He had gone back in the past before. Twice in fact, and on the same trip no less. Yes it’s that crazy story of how he fought alongside two legendary duellists to defeat a powerful threat and, like always, save the future.

I heard they made a movie about it. Go figure.

Anyway, the Shooting Star of Satellite was making a time machine. Was there something in the past he wanted to change? Was the future at risk again? Well, it was a yes to both of those questions. Just not the way you’re probably thinking of.

Yusei is a smart guy. He’s not the kind of guy who believes he has the right to shape the future or change the past. If it weren’t for Paradox’s actions, he’d have never been in the past anyway. He doesn’t do something without cause, a significant cause at that.

For the time machine, the cause in question was currently sound asleep on his couch, wrapped up in his lab coat. One legendary duellist straight from some 20-30 odd years in the past, give or take.

Jaden Yuki. Boy this story just gets better and better eh?

So what was Jaden doing here? Well he didn’t come here the regular way in case you were wondering. He certainly was older than when Yusei had met him years ago, in fact he was the same age as Yusei. But what was he doing there and how did he get there hasn’t been answered yet.

The truth is that neither of them know. Jaden just showed up one day on the streets of Neo Domino and, after getting some idea of where he was and where Yusei was, (as he was the only person he actually knew in this era) found Yusei and here they were more or less. Yusei was working on a way to send Jaden back to his own era. Not out of a desire to be rid of his friend’s company but because Jaden didn’t entirely belong here.

He was welcome of course and he had met all of Yusei’s friends. Taking Yusei’s advice he hadn’t looked up any of his own friends to see their future selves. Knowledge of the future and all that. But in the end, Jaden was still a man out of time here and there was no telling what his continued presence here could do.

Thus, the time machine. Now while the last time Yusei had travelled through time had worked, he couldn’t replicate the same means here. The Crimson Dragon had carried him, Jaden, and Yugi Moto through time three times during that adventure. Five if you counted the return trips.

But that was all done through the Crimson Dragon’s power, something science could not as easily replicate. Yusei is still a really smart and capable guy, but a time machine isn’t something so easy to create.

How long has it taken him? Currently six months, and that’s factoring in his day job and how much he pushes himself to work on this. Even now it was another all nighter as he worked on the machine. In fact, he hadn’t realized it had already become morning until a plate was placed next to him.

He looked over at the plate, finding it laden with food. Along with the plate was his frowning friend Jaden, who as usual was not to happy with him working through the night. Again.

Yusei didn’t even get to open his mouth to offer an excuse, Jaden had already anticipated it and wasn’t having any of it.

“Eat now Yusei, or I will feed you myself again.” He wasn’t kidding. Upon seeing just how little the former Signer took care of himself in comparison to others, Jaden took Yusei’s wellbeing into his own hands. This mainly consisted of aggressively demanding Yusei eat something and one time actually throwing him into a bath.

On the plus side, it had worked out.

But Jaden does know how hard Yusei is working and how much seeing him back in his own time means to the scientist. He knows that Yusei is doing the right thing, he’s just doing it at personal cost to himself.

They had a chat about this once actually.

“To be honest Yusei, I was a lot like you once.” Yusei had raised an eyebrow at that, to which Jaden merely chuckled.

“I’m serious. I thought I had to handle everything myself. Had to win every match, had to guard the Spirit Keys, had to stop the Light of Destruction, had to stop Yubel and Darkness and everything.” He shook his head, a smile crossing his face at the memories. “It was all on my shoulders.”

“But you did all that yourself Jaden.” Jaden chuckled again. It was true, and it wasn’t true.

“Not all by myself, the stories miss a few details. My friends were always there to help and support me. I didn’t always know that though. There was a bit there where I forgot it.” That time when he thought he had to handle everything. Protecting the twelve dimensions, making sure everybody was okay and safe. He had the powers, he had the skill, no one else could help him.

“I thought they were useless for a while. I thought they needed to be protected and kept out of the fight. But I was wrong, and they showed me that. They showed me that I didn’t have to have the world on my shoulders alone.”

“Jaden I already know that my friends will be there for me.” Jaden nodded in assent. Yes that was true, Jaden wouldn’t deny it.

“But it’s not the point I’m making. The point is that you can let them help you. Sometimes you can be a burden in trying not to be one.” He was quiet after that point before continuing.

“Sometimes doing something small like eating an actual meal and spending some time away from work helps. It shows that you’re taking care of yourself and that they don’t have to worry so much.”

Jaden had made a good point, even if it was taking a while for Yusei to really incorporate it into his daily life. But progress took time, just like science.

“Now, you’re going to eat this food and then we’re going to go out and get some air.” Yusei smiled, knowing Jaden was going to make good on that. When the brunette put his mind to something there was no stopping him.

But Yusei would acquiesce. Besides, some time with his friend would do him some good anyway.

#starshipping #more platonically than romantically #Yusei Fudo #Jaden Yuki #Judai Yuki #syn writes

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unadulteratedrebelrunaway · 6 years

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O'HARE VERSUS THE PRESIDENT

[9/4/18].

The music starts on the television set, and it is tuned into the highest rated network on television. The theme song is for the O'Hare Factor, and the host is one of the most controversial and well known personalities on television.

Phil O'Hare is smiling at the camera with a grin that is both strong willed and as cold as ice. A man can practically keep time to it. His blue eyes pierce through the viewers with a focused concentration worthy of an inquisitor.

"Welcome, folks. This is Phil O'Hare, and this is the highest rated show on television because we always deliver the most accurate and pertinent news for you. We always offer a fair and balanced approach on these shows, and we are glad that America appreciates the way we do business, which is the right way to do business. It should be the only way to tell the story, but unfortunately, our media is saturated with a deliberate liberal bias that exists only to favor the far left. I wished I could say things worked otherwise, but I'm here to do my job, which benefits all you people out there. Speaking of which, my guest today is one of the most liberal presidents who have ever existed. I never voted for him, and I never will, but I still respect the man and his opinions, even though he's wrong, because I am a fair and balanced man that always listens to the other side of the argument, provided the other side agrees with me. Ladies and gentleman, kids too, can we give a warm and generous welcome to President Bahama?"

Bahama walks out on stage with an air of confidence that few men possess. He is completely unphased by the crowd's hostility. He shakes hand with Phil. "Pleased to meet you. Always a pleasure."

"Have a seat, Mr. President," says Phil. "Should I call you Mr.?"

"You don't have to call me that," says Bahama.

"What should I call you?" says Phil.

"You could call me Doctor President since I have a doctorate," says Bahama.

"You could call me Master O'Hare, but that would make me feel weird, like I'm supposed to be Batman or something," says Phil. "Call me Phil. Are you serious? Do you really want me to call you, what? Doctor Bahama? It makes me feel like you should be wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope."

"No," says Bahama. "I'm just kidding. My first name might be easy to pronounce but you would be surprised how many people misspell it, so just call me Bahama. I don't want to embarrass your teleprompter."

"I think even a simple man like myself, who's worked for everything he ever had, who earned a Master's degree while painting houses, could remember that," says Phil. "You do know I paid for college painting houses, right?"

Bahama chuckles. "I know you worked real hard for your degree, but nobody ever paid for college by painting houses all summer."

"I did," says Phil.

"You paid for graduate school painting houses?" says Bahama. "You must have made some serious money, even back then. Why didn't you just go into business on a professional basis and make your living painting houses?"

"It wasn't something I wanted to do," says Phil. "I figured I was meant for something better and more important, like what I'm doing right now."

"You got that right," says Bahama. "Good answer."

"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about poverty in general," says Phil. "I have never heard you say in any of your speeches, I have never heard you talk about preserving the family unit. I have never heard you address the problem of absentee fathers who are always leaving the family, for whatever reason, like getting drunk and playing the lottery so they can get rich and find a new girlfriend."

"Before I go through the details of what you just said, I address the family as being vital to society, and as a possible mitigating factor in the elimination of poverty in every speech I have ever given," says Bahama. "You should listen to one of my speeches sometime and stop tuning out what you don't want to hear."

"I am extremely objective," says Phil. "After all, you ought to pay attention and read what my show is called sometime."

Bahama chuckles. "Okay."

"What do you think causes this?" says Phil. "I say it is a lack of moral fiber, but what's your take on this?"

"Be more specific," says Bahama.

"I'll try to be more specific, the only trouble is I don't know how I can be more specific, but I'll try," says Phil. "Do you think the real reason for the breakup of the family unit, and I think we agree that the family unit is central to the elimination of poverty--."

"Uh-huh," says Bahama.

"Do you think," says Phil as he starts to point his pencil in the air, illustrating a point, "do you think, that the primary cause of a father leaving his family is a lack of moral fiber?"

"There are several causes," says Bahama.

"Oh yes," says Phil. "Yes there are, but I'm not asking about numerous causes. I'm only asking if you think that the primary reason why a father deserts his family is because, let's just say, he wants to go out and realize his boyhood dreams because he hates staying home, making an honest living, like in a factory, and exercising a little something I was brought up on called responsibility?"

"You're saying that moral responsibility is the primary factor," says Bahama. "Yes, it is important, but there are other reasons that contribute--."

"But my father never deserted me or my family," says Phil. "He was an upstanding man because he had morals."

"Can I ask you a couple of questions first?" says Phil.

"Shoot," says Phil.

"Okay," says Bahama. "Your father was a college professor."

"Right," says Phil.

"He was a tenured professor, so they couldn't fire him," says Bahama.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything, but yes he was, because he deserved it," says Phil.

"You lived in a house in the suburbs," says Bahama. "I believe your home was paid off when you were quite young, right?"

"I'm pretty sure it was," says Phil.

"Now, your father had the opportunity," says Bahama.

"That was because my father created his own opportunities," says Phil.

"Yes, well your father had the opportunity to become a professor because the school he worked at was there in the first place," says Bahama.

"If it wasn't then he would have found another school," says Phil.

"What if there wasn't?" says Bahama.

"Don't be ridiculous," says Phil. "There are thousands of schools across this great land. How could there not be a school for my dad to secure an opportunity with?"

"I'm not saying that," says Bahama. "What if they wouldn't hire him because of his skin color?"

"That's even more ridiculous," says Phil.

"Try and follow me here," says Bahama. "You know this country has a historical problem when it comes to race relations, don't you?"

"Now you're just digging up the past," says Phil. "Over one hundred years ago, we fought a great war to end slavery."

"I'm not just talking about that," says Bahama. "I'm talking about tribalism, and how African Americans are a minority in this country."

"Okay," says Phil. "I'll follow."

"Now, you know that racism existed in the first place because of tribalism?" says Bahama.

Phil nods in agreement.

"Now, we still have tribalism, and we probably always will," says Bahama. "I wished we could get rid of it worse than you would like to, but it is probably always going to be here. Take it my word for it. I hate racism more than you do."

"I get what you're saying, but I still don't see how any of this is relevant to our discussion," says Phil.

"Phil, you're Irish, right?" says Bahama.

Phil folds his arms across his chest. "And proud of it."

"When your ancestors first came here, oh, probably in the late 1800′s, they were treated with the utmost discrimination at the time, weren't they?" says Bahama.

"Yes," says Phil. "I know all about racism and discrimination because I happen to be the offspring of immigrants."

"We all are, except for the First Nations," says Bahama.

"Yes, but like me my ancestors had moral fiber, they worked hard and intelligently, they persisted, and they overcame, so to speak. I probably wouldn't be here today if I didn't come from a long line of industrious and moral people."

"But your skin color is the same as an Englishman, a German, or any other person of northern European descent," says Bahama. "You're skin is white. But what if it was different from everybody else?"

"It's not," says Phil.

"What if it was?" says Bahama. "You see, there have been many people in Hollywood who had to change their names in years past. Many Jewish people, back when we were Anti-Semitic. Many of our greatest entertainers never would have been given a chance to entertain us. I'll assume that you feel you have benefited from many of those great actors. Am I right?"

"So what you're saying is, I've benefited from many of these Jewish performers, but I never would have experienced those benefits if they never would have become professional actors, all because their names were Jewish?" says Phil. "My ancestors never had to change their names just because they had O's and Mc's at the beginning. That disproves what you're saying."

"Phil, you're people blended in with the native crowd once you got past the first generation," says Bahama. "Your skin color, language, and ethnic customs were no different from those of the native population. I mentioned Jewish people, on the other hand, who are usually white, but then you have to remember that many Germans, many Polish, many Italians, also changed their names, especially those of Eastern European descent. Most people couldn't even pronounce or spell their names right, much let alone become friends with any of them."

"Yeah, but my people never had to change their names," says Bahama.

"Actually, many of them have," says Bahama. "There are numerous accounts of Irish people dropping the O's and the Mc's because of discrimination. You see, people like people who are similar to them."

"Yes," says Phil. "I see you're coming around and finally admitting that my people are a minority who were discriminated against, kind of like black people."

"A white person can change their name to assimilate but a black man can change his name to William Howard Taft, or Franklin Delano Roosevelt, or even Abe Lincoln or George Washington, but everything else will still be exactly the same," says Bahama.

"I see what you're saying, but we're no longer racist," says Phil.

"We are," says Bahama..

"What I'm saying is we are no longer as racist," says Phil.

"Saying we are no longer as racist is like saying the New York Yankees are a bad team because they are no longer winning the World Series every year," says Bahama.

"Don't you think that's an unfair analogy?" says Phil.

"Or taking somebody out of a burning building and placing them into an oven that's set at 250 degrees Fahrenheit," says Bahama. "They're no longer being broiled, but they're still getting cooked alive."

"Oh come off it," says Phil. "That was all hundreds of years ago."

"I want to redirect the topic here," says Bahama. "We started off talking about the possibility of eliminating poverty."

"And you turned it into a race issue," says Phil.

"Race is relevant to the topic, but there are numerous white people, along with other races and ethnicities, who live below the poverty line," says Bahama. "Before I go into that, I'll just say that if your father's skin didn't quite match up with what most other people had; life would have turned out very different for him, you, and the rest of your family."

"He got it because he was moralistic and he worked hard," says Phil.

"The thing I want to point out is people need opportunity," says Bahama. "If there was a stronger small business presence in the ghetto, or any other place that's poor, then it would become possible to take a huge bite out of poverty, along with its associated problems."

"Wait a minute," says Phil. "I want to back up a minute. My dad, along with my ancestors, they got what they did for the reasons I just stated."

"And I'm telling you that I have to take into account all other factors, and not just moral fiber," says Bahama.

"So you're saying that morals and values are unimportant," says Phil.

"I didn't say that," says Bahama. "I said values are only a part of the equation."

"So we can agree that moral fiber is an important factor when it comes to eliminating poverty?" says Phil.

"I've been saying that all along," says Bahama. "Yes we can."

"Excellent," says Phil. He rubs his hands together impishly. "You said you also wanted to talk about small business, as in a small business presence in poor communities. Do you mean like Harlem?"

"Not just Harlem, Phil," says Bahama. "There are numerous communities across this country, places with a strong Irish presence, mind you, that can't afford many of the things that guys like you and I take for granted."

"That's because of the taxes," says Phil. "If you would only cut taxes then we can have all the small businesses we want."

"Actually, Phil, there are several reasons why it is hard to start a small business, and whenever taxes are cut, usually only the richest people and largest businesses get the tax cuts."

"I deserve a tax cut because I earned it," says Phil.

"Okay, so let's just say I'll focus on large businesses then?" says Bahama.

Agreed," says Phil, "but when a large business moves into town, like Wal-Mart, then that means jobs. Many jobs for anyone who wants to work, so there's no excuse for people to be on welfare."

"Phil, those are temporary, low paying jobs," says Bahama. "Do you have any idea what the turnover is for people who work at those places? If we want to do something about poverty then we have to nip it in the bud."

"That's what I'm saying," says Phil.

"Yes, but you're saying we should cut taxes on the big players like Wal-Mart," says Bahama. "I'm talking about increasing the opportunity for people with a skill to own and operate their own business."

"Just cut their taxes and you'll have plenty of them," says Phil.

"Phil, the reason why it is so hard to operate a small business in this country is because the government is quite hostile to small business," says Bahama. "Sometimes, it requires an attorney to start and operate one. There are a myriad of statutes and regulations at the federal, state, and local level. It practically requires a full-time compliance officer just to keep up with them. Most small businessmen do not have the time or the money to do so."

"So what do you suggest?" says Phil.

"Phil, if I had my way I would streamline the entire process," says Bahama.

"Streamline how?" says Phil.

"For one thing, I wished I could make the IRS require small business owners to file taxes only once, instead of four times a year, stop fining people for paying too much in taxes, or paying too early," says Bahama.

"Okay," says Phil. "That would be good."

"Here's another idea," says Bahama. "I would like to make all interested parties, from the federal government down to the owners, sit down, and hash out a bunch of stipulations. Agreements that would have to be ratified by all interested parties, and not that top down crap we already have too much of. I would like what is best for America. I would like to use my position to enforce this, and get the parties to draw up and sign a written contract. That way, small businessman could have a fighting chance. Pay one tax to one the IRS, and let the IRS allocate to the other taxing authorities. And please stop fining the little guys tens of thousands of dollars just because he made an honest mistake. This is a free country, so let's start acting like one. If our government became more small business friendly, we would all be better off. When a small businessman survives; society benefits as a whole."

"Benefits how?" says Phil.

"Like a lower violent street crime rate, less drug abuse and addiction, higher home ownership, and several other benefits," says Bahama.

"Good neighborhoods exist because of their moral fiber," says Bahama. "You know--the collective moral fiber."

"Phil, you have to look at all the available data," says Bahama. "Not only that, but you have the evidence in front of you if you ever looked. Neighborhoods need to have moral fiber, but they also need to have opportunities. Both are necessary. Anyplace that is lacking in either one of these fundamentals happens to be run down. That is why urban ghettos are always crime ridden."

"I'll have to look at that sometime," says Phil. "You have all these great ideas. If your ideas are so great then what's stopping you?"

"Both chambers of Congress," says Bahama, "the Federal Reserve, and the United States Supreme Court. Remember, they shot down everything F.D.R. did over his first hundred days."

"I already know that," says Phil.

"You probably also know that F.D.R. was the first president in history to go four years without making one appointment to the U.S. Supreme Court?" says Bahama.

"Yes I did," says Phil.

"Did you also know that besides the speeches he made that he was actually a do-nothing president for his first term?" says Bahama.

"I do, but what's your point exactly?" says Phil

"Phil, I don't run this country," says Bahama. "The guys I just listed do. The point about F.D.R. is he wanted to pack the U.S. Supreme Court after they found everything he accomplished unconstitutional. The only problem was Congress wasn't going to let him. His own party, Phil, ran Congress, and they didn't even care if he got reelected."

"That's the first time anyone has ever put it to me like that," says Phil. "We'll be right back after this break, people."

***

"Welcome back, people. This is Phil O'Hare, along with President Bahama, and this is the most watched program on television. We were just talking about poverty, its causes, and some of its solutions. We, I mean I, want to get right down to the nitty gritty. Would you consider yourself to be the most liberal president we've ever had?"

"No," says Bahama.

"Do you consider yourself to be one of the most liberal?" says Phil.

"I would like to think so, but no," Bahama.

"Not even a little?" says Phil.

"Not at all," says Bahama.

"Why did you say I would like to think so, but no?" says Phil.

"When I was first elected, I thought I could be the next Lyndon Baines Johnson; however, once I got a couple of months into the first term--."

"Sort of like the first one hundred days," says Phil.

"Yes," says Bahama. "I started to realize why ideology doesn't work."

"What's wrong with ideology?" says Phil.

"Ideology is theory; pragmatism is experience," says Bahama.

"So what you're saying is--."

"What I'm saying is since I'm the C.E.O. of this country I cannot try to serve only one group of people," says Bahama.

"That would be good," says Phil

"Or even some groups of people," says Bahama. "I have to serve the best interests of the nation, and its people."

"I guess I'm glad to hear that," says Phil. "If you're not the most liberal president, then who would you say is?"

"Probably Nixon," says Bahama.

"Nixon?" says Phil. "Really?"

"Think about it," says Bahama. "He established the E.P.A. He never abolished the NLRB, much to the dismay of the big business conservatives."

"Like you said a few minutes ago, he couldn't have run the country, and Congress was under the domination of the Democrats," says Phil. "They were probably going to impeach him, although it would have been for something that wasn't such a big deal."

"Watergate was a big deal, but I'm not going to waste time on it," says Bahama. "Remember that Reagan had Congress for a few years, and George W. Bush had Congress for roughly six years, at least he had the House for that, and none of those guys so much as given the NLRB a slight shave, so none of our presidents are what you would call a liberal, or a conservative. To find that, you would have to go back to the time between Hoover and Coolidge, and you can see what serving only certain groups while ignoring the good of the national whole will get you."

"I agree with that," says Phil. "I might not agree with your exact positions on many of the issues, but I will agree with the part about doing what is best for America. People, I'm sorry but we're running out of time. President Bahama, it's been a pleasure."

"Thank you, Phil," says Bahama.

"So long, and remember we are the most watched program because we deliver both sides of the story, in a fair and balanced way. The way the news is supposed to be delivered. Not like the way the liberal biased media delivers it. So long people, and thanks for making us the number one network on television."

THE END

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cynthiajayusa · 7 years

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Six Reasons Gays Are a Higher Form of Evolution

Science has yet to definitively declare a “gay gene” – probably because all those evil-gelicals would abort their gaybies left and right and all hell would break loose (hallelujah?) – but just because the argument for biological evidence that determines sexual orientation hasn’t been substantiated doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Barring the discovery of an actual genetic modification that predisposes people to being gay, studies have shown that homosexuality is a heritable trait. Nonetheless, the research as it stands now is still just a bunch of lab-coat mumbo jumbo caught up in a tornado of politics.

Personally, I believe I’m a higher form of evolution. Not just me, though, but all gay people. I look at our community as a whole and, well, we do just about everything better than those who are not inherently equipped to think above the status quo.

I’m not a kook, either. Rather, I’m skeptical of most oddball concepts – like psychics, paranormal activity, crop circles, and whoever convinced Bill Cosby it’s a good idea to launch a speaking tour about sexual assault. But I do earnestly believe that you and I are genetically superior to our heterosexual counterparts.

Here are six reasons why:

We encourage, adapt to, and continue the pursuit of progression

Since the earliest recorded history – about 97th-century BCE when Mesolithic rock in Sicily is said to depict male homosexual intercourse – gays have infiltrated and influenced all aspects of life, from art to government. We’re drawn to positions of power because we affect change more swiftly and more democratically than those seeking to rule, often iron-fistedly, simply to make up for their lack of anatomical endowment (which isn’t just conjecture, by the way; a study by the Kinsey Institute reported that gay guys typically have bigger dicks than straight guys) and we don’t have to look any further than our own current administration to see this time-honored tradition in practice. It stands to reason then that we have less to prove than straight men seeking power, who much of the time want to stifle progression, while we advocate on behalf of forging ahead, quite happy with what’s been bestowed between our legs. In the meantime, we may have already answered the age-old question: Does size matter? All the world’s conflicts started by cranky old straight men decidedly point to yes.

We have an “eye” for just about everything

You can’t teach imagination or creativity; you’re either born with it or you aren’t. Certainly there’s a case to be made for the cultivation of our own capacities – which requires encouragement from those who raise us during our most vital developmental stages – but once we’re in tune with our own intelligence, we’re unstoppable. We corner the market on creative expression, from home design and culinary arts to science and movie making, and our insight is unrivaled because we won’t allow it to be muted, even when some around us demanded it growing up. The downside to this, of course, includes our rampant daddy issues (for some of us, least) – but let’s be honest, we make the most of that, too.

Before I wrote this column, I asked my friends why they thought gay people were a higher form of evolution. It was mostly because I needed validation that my own ego wasn’t out of control. It is, mind you – everybody who knows me will tell you that – but in this case, I at least have comrades on my side. My buddy Jason provided his thoughts on this particular matter – why we seem to get “it” and ourselves more than straight people understand themselves and their place in this world.

“For thousands of years, we have been systematically oppressed and persecuted by every major religion and every government,” he said. “Attempts have been made to eradicate our kind for millennia, quite unsuccessfully. I believe we are feared most because we are, and always have been, the most powerful beings on this planet. We give you your culture, your beauty, your fashion, your art. We know no bounds, and exist in every corner of the earth, from your governments to your churches to your families, and all of your institutions. We cover every race, every gender and every class.”

In laymen’s terms, we’re here and we’re queer – and we will inherit this earth.

Bullying and oppression has informed our sense of humor and self-worth

I use humor as a defense mechanism. Many of us do. But that’s because we were forced to find the happiness in an otherwise depressing situation. We’re made fun of, taunted, bullied, and put down everywhere we go – even today. But it’s because of that we’re able to evaluate and identify our self-worth when nobody else will, and the sense of humor that evolves from that oppression is what makes us likeable, self-aware beings who can and will read another to filth just for kicks.

People are naturally drawn to us – for one reason or another

Straight women follow us around like tongues-out Frenchies, and straight men envy all the things we possess that they desperately want, like the devotion of those straight women. Whether they’ll admit it or not, heterosexuals envy us – and we should all sleep better accepting that as pseudo-scientific fact.

We are emotionally more advanced because of circumstance

My beautiful lesbian friend Leslie laid this one out bare: “The strength one must possess to ‘come out’ as different from the norm is pretty much as powerful as one can be,” she said. “As humans we want to belong and be accepted by our tribe. It takes incredible strength and resilience to risk being literally abandoned by your tribe and surviving. It defies evolution as we know it, thus making us a whole new breed of fucking fabulous.”

We are, in fact, essential to humanity

Dr. James O’Keefe delivered a TED Talk at TEDxTallaght in Dublin last year, and he related a story that was covered by NewNowNext about how his own son came out 13 years ago. Initially, Dr. O’Keefe feared for his son’s safety and happiness, but then his own analytic abilities led him to surmise that his boy was going to be just fine – because gay people are goddamned remarkable.

“Viewed in the light of evolution, homosexuality seems to be a real self-defeating non-productive strategy,” O’Keefe told the audience at his TED talk. “Gays have 80 percent fewer kids than heterosexuals. This is a trait that ought to go extinct in a few generations, yet down through recorded history in every culture and many animal species as well, homosexuality has been a small but distinct subgroup. If this were a genetic error, natural selection should have long ago culled this from the gene pool.”

Dr. O’Keefe went on to discuss how everyone probably has gay genes in their DNA, but they only would have been activated as a means of survival, like stressful external circumstances while in the womb. You can watch his talk about how homos are motherfucking gods among men on YouTube; the talk is titled “Homosexuality: it’s about survival – not sex,” because that’s the truthiest truth there is.

Mikey Rox is an award-winning journalist and LGBT lifestyle expert whose work has been published in more than 100 outlets across the world. He splits his time between homes in New York City and the Jersey Shore with his dog Jaxon. Connect with Mikey on Twitter @mikeyrox.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/08/16/six-reasons-gays-are-a-higher-form-of-evolution/ from Hot Spots Magazine http://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2017/08/six-reasons-gays-are-higher-form-of.html

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