#oh fuck z look at that hole in the wall you broke that dude's whole face! he deserved it tho!

[abiik]

i am.mm. THINKING aboutt bffs jayzoe

#h talks. #oc: zoe huang #they make me so 🥺🥺🥺 #they literally bring tears to my eyes im gonna :((( #tiny robin jay & rowdy ruff zoe #lil giggly vigilantes who just wanna do the best they can do #jason's filling big shoes but the shadow he's filling is so estranged it's so hard to do so #and zoe HAS no shoes to fill. she just has the shadows of her past of too many lost loved ones way too fuckin young w a #they both have no legacy of their own & like. also a billion ppl telling them who they need to be & who they DONT need to be #u know #they also have an abundance of paths they can go down if they want even if the ppl they're being influnced by r narrowing those options #they're just kids tho & they have such STRONG opinions #they wanna make a difference they wANNA do things they WANNA change the world THEY think what they're doing is DOING THAT #they're kickin ass and puttin bad guys away #damn jason look at that shiner! #oh fuck z look at that hole in the wall you broke that dude's whole face! he deserved it tho! #like. UGH idek if im making sense they just make me very EMOTIONAL and i have a lot of incoherent thoughts about them #bc like. i have a lot of thoughts about JASON. alone. separate. from zoe. that i then take and PUT INTO my universe WITH zoe #but havent like talked about on main for several reasons #ekdkoeldoel #IM JEICIEOKDD I CANT MAKE SENSE EVER #and then i also wanna just think about them as KIDS as TEENS who just do stupid shit and have sleepovers and shit #but like. they rarely even. got that. bc jason.......you know.....

[basically-an-artist]

Part one of my #nanowrimo entry... Feedback welcome

I had to give myself a second to process what i thought i was seeing. Lamont, my brother, in my living room. His hair had grown alot longer since the last time id seen him. Though, i could tell by the way hed tied his locs that it was him. Messy but functional, and somehow always stylish. For him, though, as with everything, it came naturally.

  He looked magical, bathed in the blue light of the tv; as if there was such a look. He scanned one of the posters on the wall, apparently facinated with world war z.  I wondered how he was able to see them at all with only the pale light from the tvs reflection to distinguish them. In his black trench coat and kangol cap he was out of place amongst the empty beer cans, macbooks, assorted drug paraphernalia, and Harry Potter dvd box set scattered over the floor. It didnt help that he was drenched and dripping water over everything. A puddle collected slowly on the rug beneath him. It wasnt raining outside, though, so i could only guess how he'd been so thouroughly soaked.

Either way, he left a puddle under him as he stood, and by the size of it hed been here a while.

"You arent going to say hello to your brother?"

He didnt even turn around to speak, he kept looking at the pictures and posters lining the walls. I jumped slightly at the sound of him. I hadnt realized hed seen or even heard me;i couldnt even hear my own steps as i walked down the hall. It was a few seconds before i answered, roiling over his last visit before i said anything.

How did he get in? Were on the third floor.

"What are you even doing here dude, i told you i didnt want to see you." My voice fell off at the end. Im sure it gave away at least a peice of my inner monolouge.

Id actually kind of wished hed just show up like this, as he tended to do when he was unwelcomed. I hoped the prompt would give him a reason to apologize for our last meeting, or at least offer an explanation.

He completely ignored what id said.

"You know ive actually seen one of these before," he paused as he pointed at the tv, "What did they call them in the books... dementors?" He shuddered slightly before shaking his head. Now he spoke in a hush, like he was talking to himself, "Those things are not done justice by the movies." He looked away now, another shudder shaking his coattails. Water droplets flying.

"Why are you here? How did you get in?" Silence.

The questions hung in the air. My heartbeat rang in my ears for every second that passed

More silence.

The whole room seemed to breathe with my brother as he sighed. He finally turned to look at me and i froze. Half of me wanted to run to him, but the other half was screaming to jump out the window.

Has face bore the scar of a grotesque burn. As if hed peeked into the nozzle of a flamethrower as it turned on.

his eye underneath the scar looked normal enough. It didnt look misshapen or damaged in any way. But he no longer had an eyelid, top or bottom. His right eye almost cartoonish, exposed, and surrounded by the muddied burgundy of the charred skin in the pale blue light. He kept a straight face as he looked at me, but his eye gave his gaze a manic intensity.i had to stop myself from looking away.

I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible, failing apparantly as he chuckled at me in that way he did. The crooked grin on his face saying more than he'd said in any conversation between us. That smile always held secrets.

"I came back to give you something," he began," a souvenir from my travels." He went back to looking at the posters. Staring at them as if taking in some hidden meaning from their images. He did always seem to see some unseen message in everything. You can always learn more the second time around.

"Where have you been?" My voice gave way again. Again i was just the little brother of the infinitely talented Lamont Caldwell. asking questions i couldnt understand the answers to; trying to follow him on his oh-so mysterious adventures. Hed only been in front of me two minutes and hed sent me back 20 years. Again i was a scared and confused 4 year old.

"Dont worry about it. Everything will make sense soon. I told you a long time ago that i had to leave to really discover what it was i was meant to do. There was a purpose for me outside of what our parents had told us for so long." He crossed the room silently towards me, darkening the the floor in wet muddy footprints along the way. He kept eye contact the whole way, that orb of an eye boring into me."Theres a reason for all of this Marion, and i think ive finally found out what it is."

That eye paralyzed me. I was only aware of it because every muscle in my body wanted to back away, to run to my room and lock the door. It felt like minutes passed between each of his steps, like a dream carrying him to me in slow motion.

Stop stop stopstopstop.

He was inches from me now. Eyes still excavating my soul. As i looked into his, though, i could only see the boundlessness of his darkness. He was still an enigma to me; a shadows shadow. Of all the people id known in my life my brother had known me the best, and yet id never felt as if i truly understood him. Now, though, i felt as if i knew what he was thinking. If only for these few seconds.

Slowly, as if his body questioned his own actions, he wrapped his arms around me. His embrace reminded me of dads hugs. He was strong, but gentle. An embrace filled with the love of a long overdue apology. At least thats how i took it.

I accepted it and hugged him back. We stood that way for ten long heartbeats, the seconds passing lazily. I heard a sniffle and questioned for a second if it was him or me that had started crying, but couldnt turn over the thought before he said so low i almost questioned if hed spoken.

" Dont let our secrets burn you."

I felt my face contort in confusion before he ended the embrace. As i opened my mouth to speak the door to a room behind me opened, the noise startling me as it broke the tense silence.

I jumped and turned to see my roommate billie exiting her room in her hot pink bathrobe. Hair tousled, expression caught between annoyance and confusion. Shed just woken from a satifyingly deep sleep.

" dude. Have you seriously been out here watching harry potter this whole time? I know we said wed watch them all straight through but you had to realize that was a suicide run. Go the fuck to sleep. We both have work tomorrow." She shuffled past me to the kitchen turning on the light and then the faucet.

As she filled a cup with water i scanned the room for my brother. He was gone. His absence left a hole in the room, a void of energy where he should have been, but that could have been me projecting.

Of course.

Just like him to come raising a million questions and leave answering none of them.

How the hell did he get in?

I shook the thought out of my head, only then remembering what id come to the livingroom for in the first place. I began to pick up the room, the aftermath of an attempt at a pre-thanksgiving break movie marathon. It was supposed to be an all nighter. Unfortunately, the mixture of wine intoxication and primo bud had most of the participants passing out in their seats before the third movie started.

I picked up the candy wrappers and swept the loose tobacco into the trash. Only seeing the, clearly out of place, bound leather book when i cleared the pizza boxes from the table. This must have been that souvenir he was talking about.

It was dark brown, almost black, and encircled in thick metal bindings. An archaic iron-looking latch and lock protruded from the front. I wasnt sure how he expected me to open this book or if he expected me to.

I turned it over inspecting it more closely. Even in the dim light i could see the textblock was lined in silver. It glow eerily and reminded me somewhat of a bible.

On the back was a post it note:

Hold on to this. See you soon. -L

I rolled my eyes and tucked the book under my left arm. Its not like i hadnt seen my brother in almost 2 years, at least he gave me a completely useless gift too.

Billie crossed back into her den warning me to not make any loud noises on pain of death, which i obliged. I quickly finished straightening the room and headed back down the hall to my own bed. I tossed the book onto my dresser and collapsed under the weight of the night onto my pillow, not even bothering to cover myself with the comforter. The questions still swirling around my head settled in my skull as sleep took me.

As i drifted into the land of dreams a single thought peeked back through the veil before being silenced by the void of unconciousness.

How the hell did he get in?

#nanowrimo #my writing #writing #fantasy #urban fantasy #witch #witchcraft

[gilfoyles-tech]

Gunz

Some Dinfoyle 

I’m new pleASE request a oneshot, talk to me, tell me to follow ur SV blog pls I beg of you

On AO3. On FFn.

"Are you actually coding over there, or are you just spazzing out all over your keyboard?" Dinesh snapped, turning in his chair. "All I've heard for the past ten minutes is you button mashing."

Gilfoyle didn't even dignify that with the turn of his head. "I finished my section of the code."

Dinesh snorted, secretly pleased that his worried glance at his code went unseen by Gilfoyle. "There's no way you figured out how to unscramble the image from the code. You literally built the code into the image."

"Nope. Finished."

Dinesh squinted at the back of Gilfoyle's head. "Are you playing PC?"

The only sound was the frantic mashing of keys.

Dinesh frowned. "You are! Shouldn't you be, oh, I dunno', doing your job?"

"I'm playing a classic, and once again, I finished my section of the code."

Dinesh hesitated. He looked around. Richard had holed himself up somewhere in his room, and Jared was probably hovering nearby, offering tea and soothing Richard's ego. Erlich had fucked off to who knows where—or he was smoking in the charred remains of the palapa. It was late.

Dinesh looked at the distant few feet to Gilfoyle; it was late, no need to kill himself over code if Gilfoyle wasn't.

Dinesh scooted his chair over to Gilfoyle's desk.

"You're in my space," Gilfoyle said, but it was lower than it would have been if he was actually complaining, so Dinesh promptly ignored him.

"Jesus, what are the graphics on that?" Dinesh grinned. "2004 at the earliest."

"I neither volunteered this game for your scrutiny, nor care for your opinion. I don't expect you off all people to understand the tactical knowhow that Gunz requires."

Dinesh leaned forward, his smile only growing. "I'm sorry, did you say Gunz? Like, with a Z?" Dineh squinted. "Are you holding a sword?"

"It was made in Korea."

"I didn't know they called swords gunz in Korea."

Gilfoyle had been killed, and he leaned back like he wasn't going to respawn. Dinesh kept his face right where it was, trying to see past the pixels to understand how the game was actually played.

"I'm the admin," Gilfoyle offered, raising one shoulder in a shrug that seemed suspiciously nonchalant. "I had to find my backup after Anton's… After Anton."

Poor Anton.

"Did you make it?"

Gilfoyle's eyes were locked on the screen. "No, just saved it. It was a shitty game, with shitty forums, but when it was shut down, I made my own server for some of my buddies and I to play on. I was just booting the server back up when you so rudely interrupted."

Dinesh pointed—though he was resting his hand under his chin, so it wasn't a super aggressive point. "No, you were totally playing."

"To make sure everything in the backup made it over."

Dinesh sat up. "I want to play."

Here, finally, Gilfoyle's eyes flicked over to him. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "You're going to get destroyed."

Dinesh frowned. "Fuck you."

Once again, Gilfoyle's shoulder rose in a half shrug. "I'm just warning you. My server is k-style only, and even if you're playing with me, all these other guys have been playing for ten-plus years."

"It's a PC game, Gilfoyle."

"Look, this isn't some PS4 baby's-first-blunt piece of shit game; this is the hardcore heroin of PC games. Highly specialized, obsessive players literally broke the game and then made a whole competitive sport involving breaking the game."

Dinesh raised an eyebrow. "You sound a little defensive, Gilfoyle."

"This isn't Halo, Dinesh."

Dinesh's eyebrow arched higher, and he smiled. Gilfoyle threw his hands in the air and rolled over to Dinesh's computer. Dinesh scooted after him, watching Gilfoyle log into the server.

"Dude, I don't want to be a chick!"

Gilfoyle glanced over his shoulder, exiting the character creator. "Smaller hit box. Trust me, you're going to thank me."

"I'm not a chick!"

"I'm not saying you have tits, Dinesh, just that you're going to get shot enough without having a huge hitbox to contribute to the—no, your slaughter."

Gilfoyle kicked the neighboring computer's chair away and logged on to his own account. Dinesh frowned, carefully arranging his fingers over the WASD keys. A controller was so much easier.

"A controller is so much easier," Dinesh muttered.

"Take your baby-blunt complaints out into the living room, Dinesh. Alright, we're going to be playing two v. two, so I want you to try not to fuck up as long as possible. I put in standard controls for switching weapons—"

"So you're not entirely stuck in 2004?"

"—but your melee weapon is your most important." Gilfoyle reached over and showed Dinesh the keys, eyes glued to his own screen. "You can glitch out the animation and essentially bounce off the walls as long as you have your sword out."

"You mean my gunz." Dinesh smiled.

"I mean don't make me replace your teeth with your computer keys. Switch to your gun and then back to your sword so you can keep dodging as fast as possible."

"Sounds easy." Dinesh settled into his chair.

It wasn't easy.

The first three rounds, Dinesh couldn't get the glitch to work. He would just hop around, frantically waving his sword around, and then get shot in the head. The fifth round, he managed to bounce off the wall—

"Gilfoyle, I bounced!"

—only to get shot in the head a second later.

So most of Dinesh's time was spent watching Gilfoyle play because the stupid fucking game wouldn't let him respawn until the next round.

"This is fucking stupid." Dinesh threw his hands in the air and swiveled to watch Gilfoyle.

"Team deathmatch," Gilfoyle said, fingers flying across the keyboard. "It's a bitch."

"I bounced again," Dinesh said, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Though I have absolutely no fucking idea how you do it."

"I'm thirteen years in the making. I'm pure heroin, baby."

Gilfoyle picked off a player, switching back to his word and glitching away before the team mate could kill him—but only almost. He had almost died, just then. It was the first mistake Dinesh had noticed; Gilfoyle pretty much was pure PC heroin.

"This is how I got into coding," Gilfoyle said. Volunteered, even.

"Really?"

Gilfoyle nodded, eyes on the screen, fingers moving on their own accord. "I'd track down people's IP addresses and fuck with them. When this fuck sent a letter to my house after my clan beat his, I had to figure out how to protect my own shit."

Dinesh's gaze had moved to Gilfoyle's face. It was as impassive as ever, but Dinesh caught Gilfoyle's eyes dart to meet his, then back to the screen.

"And then I got into figuring out statistics for firing, got into how the glitch actually worked, how to perfect it, take advantage of it." Here, again, their eyes met, just for a second. "I won a Wii."

Dinesh made a face. "What?"

"We had competitions. There would be clans, and a point-system. We came in first one year and won a Wii, and my team decided I should get it." Gilfoyle dropped his hands into his lap. "My parents weren't very pleased."

Dinesh didn't move back to his keyboard, still hunched over, face close to Gilfoyle's arm. Gilfoyle looked at his hands.

"Who wouldn't be pleased with their kid winning a brand new Wii?"

"My parents. And it wasn't anywhere close to brand new." Gilfoyle shrugged. "Anyways, I'm tired of carrying your ass in this game." Gilfoyle stood and closed out the game.

Dinesh blinked and watched him, sitting up and crossing his arms. There was an awkward silence that Dinesh's dumb little brain needed to fill. "Yeah, well, it's late, and this game is a piece of shit, anyways."

Gilfoyle's who posture stiffened, shoulders hunched, fists clenched. "You asked to play," Gilfoyle shot back.

Dinesh's head jerked back. Jesus, what was with the attitude? "Oh, I forgot I held a gun to your head and forced you to make me a girl character."

Gilfoyle snapped around to face Dinesh. "Smaller hit box." Gilfoyle shut off his other computer. "I shouldn't have even shown you," he said, heading towards his bedroom.

Dinesh sank lower in his computer chair.

Sat there in the dark, arms crossed, stewing.

For a second, Gilfoyle had…

He couldn't even be nice for…

What a one-eighty in attitude…

He had probably meant for Dinesh to see his stupid game, and make him feel stupid for sucking at it. Or something.

Or something.

Gilfoyle was fucking weird, and that was that. Dinesh stood, switched his computer off, and walked to his bedroom. Fucking weird.

#dinfoyle #dinesh chugtai #bertram gilfoyle #silicon valley hbo #silicon valley fanfic #writing