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zoequeenz · 4 years

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Extreme Aggressor (Part 4)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Aaron Hotchner’s POV

“We found out Heather was buying a used car. You know how a car salesman gets us to buy a car? They call it reciprocity.They drop the price and...feels like they’ve done us a favor. We feel obligated. There’s a sudden pressure to reciprocate this one little favor. And it’s so powerful that we’ll...put a deposit down on a car we’re not even sure we really want.” I say pacing in the interrogation room.

“So what?” Slessman quickly replied in an annoyed tone.

“So Vogel did you a favor.”

“He protected you in prison,and now you feel like you owe him and need to protect him. Guys like Vogel learn in the schoolyard which kids to bully and which kids to protect, and he’s got you convinced that you owe him so much that you’ll go to jail for him.”

“Richard...I’m here to remind you of something. You owe him nothing.”

Richard says nothing but looks forward as a smirk grows on his face.

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Elle Greenaway’s POV

“There’s something wrong here. We gotta pull him over. I can feel it.” I say to Gideon while we are following the red Datsun Z.

“You wanna know the word repeated more than any other in your file?” He asks getting my attention.

“Impatient. You wanna stop him, give me a reason.”

“His behavior.” I respond with quickly.

“When we left him, he was nervous, unsettled. But now he’s stopping at every sign. He’s using his blinker at every turn. He’s slowing at yellow lights. This is not someone who is rushing to kill and dump a body.” I explain.

“Okay. Do it.” Gideon says after thinking for a minute.

I turn on the siren and the lights and the red Datsun Z slows to a stop. We get out of the car and draw our guns. We slowly walk towards the car.

“FBI. Put your hands up where we can see them!” I order as Gideon and I approach the car.

“Put your hands through the window now!” I repeat.

“Now!” just as I say that hands come through the window.

“All right, with your left hand I want you to open the car door from the outside.” I instruct. The driver reaches for the handle and opens the door. I move towards him and grab him pulling him out of the car, he falls to the ground.

“Get out!”

The man groans in pain when he hits the ground.

“It’s not him!” I exclaim.

“Where is he?” Where is him?” Gideon asks the man.

“Who?” the man asks.

“Vogel!” I respond.

“I don’t know!” he tells us.

“What are you doin’ driving his car?!” Gideon questions.

“He came up to me in the garage after our shift ended. He asked if he could borrow my truck.” the man explained.

“What kind of truck?”

“He’s dumping the body.” I say.

“What’s the make?”...”WHAT’S THE MAKE?”

“Dodge. Dodge Dakota!” the man tells us.

(DRIVING TO FIND THE TRUCK)

“Gideon Heather’s alive.” Morgan tells Gideon.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“”Cause we’re watching her right now.”

(TIME SKIP)

“Hotch, he’s gonna kill her. He’s heading there now. We need a location.”Gideon tells Hotch.

“I don’t have enough time to get it out of him.” Hotch answers.

“Find something, Hotch, or that girl is dead.”

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We got in and have been watching Heather for about an hour. I was comfortable until Spencer got up and booted me off his lap. We are also still trying to find out where Heather is being held, we don’t know how much time she has left so these few minutes are very crucial.

“Morgan, can you show me the last twelve images lined up next to each other?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah.”

The few images filled up the screen. Spencer must’ve noticed something

“Right there.” Spencer says pointing to the screen.

“You see that?” he asks.

“The light bulb hanging from the wire?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Derek retaliates.

“It’s shifting positions like it’s swaying...like the earth is tilting.” Spencer points out.

“Not the earth,Doc. The ocean.” Derek says leading them to look at each other. Derek then pulls out his phone and calls Hotch.

“She’s on a boat? Where?” Hotch asks.

“It’s a pier or a dock. He wouldn’t be able to transmit the Webcam image from the middle of the ocean.” Derek tells Hotch.

“You’re sure about this.” Hotch questions.

“It’s the best we got, Hotch. Even if we’re right, getting the exact location’s on you, my friend.” Derek tells him.

“What is it you always as Garcia?” Hotch asks.

“To work me a little magic.” Derek responds.

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Aaron Hotchner’s POV

“Just to let you know...Gideon’s talking to Vogel...and Vogel’s nailing you to the wall.” I lie to Slessman.

“Yeah, whatever.” Slessman responds sounding a bit hurt.

“He said it was your idea to keep the girls on a boat.”

“He’s talking, Richard. Reciprocity. Tell me where she is, and we make a deal. Is it a dock? A pier?” I ask finally breaking him.

“It’s a shipyard. Allied Shipyard.” Slessman tells me.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We are still viewing the webcam to make sure that if something happens we are the first to know. When I look back on the screen I notice Vogel there in the room with Heather. I tap Derek on the shoulder and point to the screen to get him to notice the situation at hand.

“Ried, he’s inside.” Derek tells Spency. Spency walks over and stands next to me. Vogel unlocks the cage holding Heather and removes the chain.

“Get Elle on the phone.” Derek commands the both of us. Spency is quick to get his phone out. Then hands it to Derek.

“Listen to me. You need to wait for backup.” Derek says which triggers fear into my mind and I quickly grab Spencer’s hand. He looks at me then puts two and two together.

“If we wait, the girl is dead.” Elle quickly replies.

“And if we had waited in Boston--.” Derek says.

“I can’t. You told me to trust my instincts.” Elle says ending the conversation.

When Derek pauses it causes me more stress. Gideon is like my father and Elle is the only other girl that goes out to the field with me, I don’t normally get this freaked out but usually the unsub’s aren’t cops. Let’s just hope Hotch doesn’t find out this kind of behavior would be bad for the job.

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3RD PERSON POV

Vogel opens the cage door and reaches out to the sleeping Heather.

“Come on.” Vogel mumbles under his breathe. As he pulls the sleeping woman out of the cage by her ankles her foot flies up and kicks him in the face. Heather then gets up in an attempt to run. She hits her head on something due to there being a blindfold on her eyes. Even though there was a delay Heather managed to escape the room she was held captive in. When she makes it to the top deck she trips over something just as Vogel comes up the stairs. Still unable to see a blind Heather crawls in a desperate attempt to get away from her captor. He reaches her and pulls her up roughly. Heather now being able to see and speak cries out.

“Stop!” yells Gideon catching Vogel’s attention.

“Get back!” demands Vogel pointing the gun to the frightened woman’s head. Gideon walks a bit closer but is still a good distance away.

“I’ll shoot her.” Vogel threatens.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, I’d aim the gun at me. You shoot the girl, you got nothing.” Gideon says.

“Get...back.” Vogel warns for the second time.

“Shoot me instead. Come on. What, are you a lousy shot?” Gideon pesters. Gideon lowers the gun to the side and opens his arms.

“Fifty feet away. You got a perfect shot. Shoot me.”

“You think I’m stupid?” Vogel grimly asks.

“I think you’re an absolute moron. I know all about ya, Tim. You’re at the gym five times a week. You drive a flashy car, you stink of cologne, and you can’t get it up. Not even Viagra’s workin’ for ya. You know what that tells me? That tells me that you are hopelessly compensating, and it’s not just in your head. It is physical. What did the girls call you in high school? What’d they come up with when you fumbled your way into some girl’s pants, and she started laughing when she got a good look at just how little you had to offer?” Gideon yet again pestered.

“SHUT UP!” Vogel yelled.

“Short stack? Very little Vogel? I got it. Tiny Tim.” Gideon stated.

Vogel pushed Heather away from him and points the gun at Gideon. Elle shoots and the bullet hits Vogel. Leading Vogel to fire a shot and hit Gideon in the chest. Gideon goes down and slumps. Elle runs over…

“Gideon!”

Elle checks Gideon as Heather gets to her feet and begins to yell and cry.

“I’m fine. Go look after the girl.” Gideon informs Elle. Elle runs over to the distraught girl.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We get to the crime scene and I see Heather on a gurney. Heather and Gideon share a moment of gratitude, then he walks off. Spencer finds me and we being to walk to who knows where. We walk past Derek and Hotch, they are talking about Gideon.

“So what kind of report do they want on him?” Derek asks.

“I suppose whether he’s fit to be a field agent. You know, Haley and I were looking at a baby names book. Well, guess what Gideon means in Hebrew.” Hotch paused only to be cut off by Spencer.

“Mighty warrior. Appropriate.”

As we walk away I giggle catching Spencer’s attention.

“What is funny?” he asks me.

“I just think that how much of a smartass you are is kinda cute.” I reply.

He looks at me with a faint blush on his face and hugs me. I savor this moment, believe it or not we don’t hug a lot. Not to sure why but we don’t. I want to hug him more often though because his hugs are the best.

(TIME SKIP)

We are now flying home. It seems like everyone is asleep except Hotch, Gideon, and I. I can’t sleep, because I have the head of my genius best friend in my lap. I chose to sit here and he thought my lap would be the best pillow. I don’t mind it though, he looks very cute. His hair is in his face and he looks so innocent. I move his hair to behind his ear to see his face better. His eyelashes flutter a bit from me touching his face. He looks at me and I smile then tell him to go back to sleep. Thank god for the wall next to me and slowly drift off.

“Nietzsche once said, “When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you.

NEXT CHAPTER

#criminal minds #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x OC #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid series #best friends with a genius profiler

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

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hey, u got any good lesbian fics? can be a genderswap or irl girls, but no Gerard/mikey pls

Hi Nonny, here's some femslash for you!

Femslash

Didn't Get To Heaven, But You Made It Close by gala_apples, Ray/Mikey, 1k, Teen And Up Audiences. Ray's new to this thing, whatever it is. But she'll do it right for her girlfriend. Mikey deserves getting it right.

Ass-Kickin' Chick Music by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, 21k, Explicit. She's not someone's girlfriend. She's not anyone's anything. She's a fucking force. Gee doesn't know if she wants to be her or fuck her.

skipping school (what the bad kids do) by inkk, Frank/Gerard, 1k, Mature. L is for Lesbians. (In which class is skipped and a staff bathroom is occupied for questionable purposes.)

Rumors by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Mature. Frankie likes to mess with Gee during interviews and Gee hates it.

girls like girls by etselec, Mikey/Pete, 1k, General Audiences. A little Petekey genderbent ficlet based on the music video Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko

Cloud 9 by OwlHooots, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Mature. Gee realizes that she's been bit by the cheesiest love bug.

Alazarin by victoriachase (orphan_account), Frank/Gerard, 1k, Not Rated. i'm on holiday at the moment, and i was bored, and i really desperately wanted to write a girl!frerard fic and i wanted to write a fic where they met on a train, so this happened, i am sorry in advance

Freighthopping by CryptoHomoRocker, Bert/Gerard, 4k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gee should probably be afraid of Bert, but she's too busy falling in love with her.

the world's not waiting by mirrorchord, Patrick/Gerard, 1k, Teen And Up Audiences. Patrick jerks off, at some point.

the joy of rediscovering you by xofrnk, Jepha Howard/Mikey, 2k, Not Rated. She's just a beautiful, pale expanse of skin and ink and perfect. Sometimes Mikey just doesn't know what to do with her.

Alone Above A Raging Sea by something_safe, Bert/Gerard, 13k, Explicit. It's the Summer of Like and Gee Way and Roberta McCracken are still the demonic duo. Sometimes. When they've not fallen out. About nothing. Mikey fixes everything, like always.

Some Hearts Are Gallows (I'm Not Here For Hanging Around) by blindlyseeking (orphan_account), Frank/Gerard, 24k, Mature. My Chemical Romance. The name even had that vibe to it: we’re going to conquer the motherfucking universe. It was like The Beatles or Bikini Kill. It was a name that pinned you against a wall and said, “You better remember me.” And she is a part of it. Gina, Michelle, Rae, Maddy, and Frankie are just getting their new band off the ground. The girls are leaving Jersey for the first time on tour. But Frankie has been head over heels for Gina since day one and in a blur of autumn, Polaroids, house parties, whiskey sours, car rides, and cassette tapes 2002 becomes the year that change everything.

Cherry Bomb by my99centdreams, Courtney Love/Gerard, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gina opens her eyes, the sudden silence in the room almost dizzying and catches sight of Courtney’s scandalized expression in the mirror. She laughs and cuts off the first piece – the tiny snip making something flip in her belly - glancing down to see it resting in the sink. She takes a deep breath; it’s cool, she’s got this. “Flip the fucking tape over, will you?”

Hand On Heart by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. Gee doesn't think it's at all fair of Frank to just waltz in one day with brand new candy-corn-colored ink splashed all over her fucking gorgeous guitarist hands, bouncing around like an overexcited puppy on crack and insisting on showing her new art to anyone who comes within a fifty foot radius of her. Gee hates her, she hates her, she hates her. And also wants to fuck her brains out, but mostly just hates her.

Make Me Tremble (Make Me Shake) by Mondegreen, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Explicit. It's like any other Friday night horror marathon in the basement, and then suddenly it's not. Or: the one where Frank and Gerard are high school lesbians, and then they make out.

Get to Kiss that Twisted Mouth by Nokomis, Lindsey/Gerard, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. Lyn-Z doesn't even really realize that the lead singer of My Chemical Romance, dressed in a black suit and red tie, is a woman until halfway through their first opening set.

Raspberry Swirl by brooklinegirl, Frank/Gerard, 16k, Explicit. The time that the whole band woke up as girls was maybe the weirdest.

girls girls girls by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Teen and Up Audiences, Explicit. “Would you still be into me if I were a guy?”.

Earth Girls Are Easy by Siobhan_Schuyler, Lindsey/Gerard, 1k, Mature. Her gaze travels around the room, over a hundred faces, and unerringly lands on Gee's, like some sort of inevitable tragedy. Something in her chest skips and squeezes, watching Gee smile, eyes on someone else, some other girl who'd rather talk about art than live it. Someone not worthy of Gee and her kind face and her expressive hands and the way she smokes too much and drinks too much and feels too much and cares about Lindsey much, much too little.

Soft by ladyfoxxx, Lindsey/Gerard, 4k, Explicit. Always-a-Girl!Gee and Lindsey - unapologetic girl on girl porn.

Songs About Hips and Hearts by sinuous_curve, Mikey/Pete, 4k, Teen And Up Audiences. So, the point is, sometimes Mikey forgets she's a girl and it's really not that big a deal because even when someone they're touring with suddenly realizes that she is female with actual functioning female parts, nothing happens. Because she is also a girl with one older brother whose scary as shit in his own particularly odd way and three additional older brothers by proxy who have no compunctions about killing to defend her honor.

Three Times a Lady by corruptedkid, Gabe/Mikey, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gee is useless when it comes to girls. Mikey is not.

Pretty Rad by rage_for_love, Frank/Gerard, 3k [WIP], Teen And Up Audiences. In which Frankie and Gee venture into the world of motherhood, which turns out to be a pretty rad experience.

the noise that keeps me awake by ashers_kiss, Party Poison/Gerard, 5k, Mature. Lady!Party Poison/Lady!Gee, five times they fought, and one time they kissed and made up.

you say cut the stem, i say let's see the flower by userl4me, Frank/Gerard, 1k, Teen And Up Audiences. When Gee's school forces her to cut off her hair as part of the dress code, Gee sees no other choice. That is, until her girlfriend comes to the rescue with black hair dye and kissing.

No. 1 Party Anthem by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 4k, Explicit. Gee doesn't like parties. She does, however, like a certain punk with terrible hair who doesn't know how to turn down a dare.

Missing Period by revengera, Frank/Gerard, 1k, Mature. Gee groaned when a knock sounded at her door for the thousandth time that day. She stood up from her seat where she was quite happily signing slips of papers to get sick teenagers permission to leave school. Gee opened the door, being faced by none other than Frankie, who had been complaining about period cramps all day and really, Gee was beginning to think that the period may be a super one by how many times she had shown up at Gee's office that day.

cigarettes and chocolate milk by recklessfishes (orphan_account), Frank/Gerard, Patrick/Pete, 5k [WIP], General Audiences. The media really loves playing the “Who’s in Pietra Wentz’s pants?” game, and Pete wants them all to leave her the fuck alone.

Give Them Blood, Blood, Blood by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. Gee's heat always syncs up with her period. Frankie's willing to help her anyway.

Life Goes On by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 2k, General Audiences. Frankie is an angel who is forced to guard the gates of heaven. She falls in love with a woman who passes through them. The two of them are doomed from the very start. Pete is a djinn who is punished for his sins by guarding the gates of hell and falling in love with everyone who passes through them.

Let me hear your voice by 3cheers4sweet_romance, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Teen And Up Audiences. "The encounter was brief if you measure it in minutes, but it was long enough to make a deep impression on Frankie. She wanted to hear Gee's singing voice again and she wouldn't rest until she'd make her sing again." In this fic, Gee sings random ABBA songs and Frankie tries, with various degrees of success, to convince her to audition for the position of lead singer in a newly formed band.

Record Setter by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. "Frankie, y-you made me cum like-" she cut herself off with a breathy moan, "Fuck, like? Five times already? It hurts."

i'll make you mine (time after time) by inkk, Frank/Gerard, 1k, Mature. S is for Stargazing. (In which Gee is cuddly, Frank is a dork and they have super romantic sex in a field.)

Barely visible stars by giraffewrites, Lindsey/Gerard, 4k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gee had preferred it when she wasn't out to her school. The days when she could just be herself and not have abuse shouted at her as she walked the halls. The days when she wasn't scared of doing such mundane tasks such as catching the bus. And then Lindsey comes along, and maybe everything isn't completely shit for once. Maybe.

#ray/mikey #frank/gerard #mikey/pete #bert/gerard #patrick/gerard #lindsey/gerard #party poison/gerard #femslash #fic rec list

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radwolf76 · 4 years

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FLASHBack: Week 52 - Charlie the Unicorn

Here we go, Major Milestone time here on FLASHBack -- The 52nd weekly installment, which marks the end of year one. Almost a birthday of sorts. Soon we will be entering the final year of Adobe's support for Flash, which was the inspiration for this whole project in the first place. I thought it best to mark the occasion with something truly magical, like say, a unicorn. Flash Animator Jason Steele had a tradition of making a unicorn themed Flash for his mother's birthday each year, which she would then turn around and upload to her Newgrounds account, TypeQueen. This started in 2003 with Evolution of the Unicorn a painting-like animation set to the William Tell Overture, inspired by Disney's Fantasia. 2004's Birthday would take a more comedic turn in The Last Unicorn, which was not based on the Rankin/Bass animation of the Peter S. Beagle novel of the same name but is instead an alien abduction story. The next year, Steele would lean even harder into the comedy along with a heavy dash of absurd non-sequiturs. On 26 November 2004, Charlie the Unicorn would be uploaded to TypeQueen's account on Newgrounds. The story centers around a curmudgeonly grump of a white unicorn (named Charlie, if it wasn't obvious from the title), who wants to be left alone so he can nap. And since conflict is the engine that drives narrative, he is set upon by two other unicorns, one pink and one blue, both equally overly cheerful and more vapid than a sack full of Kardashians. They insist that he needs to go off on an adventure with them. (As an aside, in Jason's script the two other unicorns also have names, which are never mentioned out loud. The blue one is Lolz and the pink one is Roffle, but the fandom just calls them Blue and Pink.) The two have just acquired a map to Candy Mountain, and Charlie finally agrees to go along just to get them to stop bothering him about it. When their quest brings them to a Liopleurodon ("A magical Liopleurodon") who is supposed to give them advice on how to get to their destination, Charlie has a crisis of faith, declaring that there's no such thing as Candy Mountain. Blue and Pink immediately shun the non-believer ("Shhhhhuuuuuuunnnnn!!").

The Liopleurodon dispenses its sage advice, in that way that only a land-bound Jurassic-era carnivorous marine reptile can. Then after crossing a "magical" bridge that gives Charlie splinters the trio of unicorns finally arrives at the fabled Candy Mountain. Pink and Blue try to convince Charlie to go inside Candy Mountain's cave, and of course he refuses. This prompts the letters of the word "Candy" in the Candy Mountain sign to hop down and break into a musical number. (Originally Steele was going to have Blue and Pink sing the song, but he felt it was too uptempo for the voices he'd given them, so he gave the song to the letter Y instead.) At the end of the song, the letters explode inexplicably. Charlie who has had quite enough of absurdity after absurdity in his day, gives up and agrees to go inside. The other two ominously say goodbye as the cave seals itself, and then in an unexpected twist, Charlie is mugged for one of his kidneys. Three years later on 14 April 2008, a sequel, Charlie the Unicorn 2 would be released. This time Charlie finds his TV watching interrupted when Pink and Blue float by in full scuba gear, claiming to be exploring the ocean. Suddenly a glowing vortex erupts from Charlie's back and sucks the other two in. Unnerved by their sudden disappearance, Charlie calls out to the guys and then admits that he doesn't know if they're guys or girls. The pair do return, having retrieved a magic amulet from the vortex. It must be taken to the Banana King to prevent the vortex from releasing a thousand years of darkness. As they journey, they encounter the letter Z, who speaks Spanish. Eventually, they arrive at the temple of the Banana King, where a green... thing wearing a Santa hat (Damnit, there's another seasonal reference, I was trying not to make a habit of that this month) sings a song to Charlie about sticking a banana in his ear. At the end of the song he bursts into flames. When the time comes to return the amulet to the Banana King, it turns out the real Banana King was the Charlie we met along the way. And also this was all some elaborate ruse to distract Charlie so his TV could be stolen. Jason would put out Charlie the Unicorn 3 a year later on 6 April 2009. This one finds Charlie accosted by Blue and Pink from a future where the world is about to end because evil has overrun good. Naturally they need his help with a snowman. The usual hijinks ensue, culminating in them taking a ride on a submersible duck. There's another musical number, lead by a capricorn sea goat, about how all sea life loves Charlie, especially one Starfish who's so eager to profess his love that he more shouts than sings. Halfway through, the song turns into the sea creature version of the PokeRap. Keeping up the trend, all the singers then explode at the end of the song, just in time for Charlie to find the snowman. He's then knocked out with sleeping gas, because Blue and Pink want his horn for the snowman nose. And while kidneys aren't traditional snowman decorations, Charlie's missing kidney is there too. It would be another three years before the next sequel, Charlie The Unicorn 4. Premiering on 28 December 2012, Pink and Blue crash a rocket in the middle of the forest meadow. As they're frantically trying to warn Charlie (who has had to reattach his horn with a band-aid) about the danger of a Millipede on the Moon, Charlie cuts them off. He's been in enough of these situations to know the explanations don't help, and so he tells them to just take him to the moon already. They flip the world so that he falls off into space. On the way to the moon, Blue and Pink get up to their usual shenanigans. When they land on the Moon, The Millipede immediately shows up, and she launches into a Broadway-quality "I am" type song (as opposed to the other major song type from musical theatre and film, the "I want" song). The song feels like it should be an homage to the song Shiny from Disney's Moana -- both feature narcissistic arthropods who spend their entire songs bragging about how great they are. Except that Charlie the Unicorn 4 predates Moana's release by 4 years. One significant difference between the two songs: as Tamatoa isn't singing to Charlie, he doesn't blow up at the end of his song. The Millipede is not so lucky. Having "defeated" the Millipede, the trio then enter the Cavern of the Red Wind. Inside, Blue and Pink reveal their plot to blow up the moon, with Charlie still on it, and then float off, leaving him stranded next to the bomb with its digital countdown. However, the Starfish who was so in love with Charlie in the previous chapter (and who didn't blow up because he didn't actually sing) shows up to rescue him. He talks Charlie into using him as a wishing star to get back to Earth. Pink and Blue are rather shocked to see that Charlie survived, after all the trouble they went to. Steele produced plenty of other Charlie the Unicorn content, but as this post is getting long, we're going to save the rest for the day after Christmas. In the meantime, there will be a short intermission somewhere in Nevada. Also, if you'd prefer to see all four of these chapters together in one HD video, Here you go.

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cxhnow · 4 years

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There’s Something Special About Chloe x Halle

With soaring harmonies, gorgeous song compositions and mentoring from Beyoncé, the teen sisters are one of music’s most promising new acts.

[full article below]

In 2011, Chloe and Halle Bailey made their TV debut on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, performing a cover of Beyoncé’s “Best Thing I Never Had.” They already had a very popular YouTube channel and several million video views to their names but it would be two years later and another Beyoncé cover – an earth- shattering rendition of “Pretty Hurts” that they posted online – that their lives would change.

“Two weeks after we posted the ‘Pretty Hurts’ video, we got an email from Beyoncé’s entertainment company, Parkwood,” Chloe recalls, setting the scene. “They were like, 'We really love this – can we post it on all of Beyoncé’s socials? …And are you guys signed?’”

What happened next played out like a fairytale. Two days later, the sisters got a call saying that Beyoncé wanted to sign them. Then, in late 2014, she did. Chloe and Halle had become mentees to one of the world’s biggest stars – and they weren’t even old enough to drive. By March 2016, things started to heat up. First, the twosome opened for Michelle Obama’s keynote speech at SXSW, winning praise from the First Lady herself. A month later, Beyoncé dropped Lemonade, and viewers across the world saw the Bailey sisters in the now-iconic video series that accompanied the album. (Their cameo takes place during a scene that produced one of the most powerful images in the modern pop-culture landscape: a portrait of Chloe and Halle sitting on a stoop beside Ibeyi’s Naomi and Lisa-Kaindé Diaz, Amandla Stenberg, Zendaya and Beyoncé – a regal vision of black female empowerment.)

Six days after Lemonade came out, the two – now stylizing their names as Chloe x Halle – released their Sugar Symphony EP, which went on to receive critical acclaim from Billboard, Rolling Stone, and countless others. Chloe, who just turned 18 (Halle is now 16), produced the lead single,“Drop,” in the sisters’ home studio in L.A., where they recently relocated from Atlanta. They had another major relocation (or, rather, multiple relocations) for work this summer – the two traveled throughout Europe and opened for their famous mentor on Beyoncé’s Formation World Tour.

Chloe and Halle’s success seems to have come naturally. Their ability to harmonize with one another appears intrinsic, and they’re exceptionally poised, displaying the kind of maturity one expects from young talent that grows up with camera training – and these girls did. (When she was just 3 years old, Chloe played a toddler version of Beyoncé’s character in 2003’s The Fighting Temptations – a grand coincidence lost on no one.) “We always loved being in front of the camera, even as little girls,"Halle recalls. "That was a fun way for us to learn how to express ourselves and navigate our emotions.”

The sisters grew up auditioning for acting roles, getting small gigs here and there, but eventually, music became their main focus. They started a YouTube channel in 2006 and by 2011 were posting videos of themselves singing covers. But now, with Sugar Symphony, the sisters have the opportunity to release original music and create their own sound, which, as heard on the EP, favors dark and moody beats mixed with lush gospel harmonies, a rare, ethereal combination that has an enduring, modern appeal. During the recording process, Chloe recalls that they were going in this “dark and vibe-y” direction “without even knowing it,” buoyed by a positive response to “Drop” from the Grammy Award-winning writers and producers they were working with.They teamed up with Hit-Boy, who’s worked with Beyoncé, Jay Z and Kanye, to co-write “Red Lights,” another track from Sugar Symphony that, like “Drop,” initially sounds delicate but wouldn’t feel out of place bumping from a subwoofer.

As excited as they are by these opportunities to work and collaborate with major artists and producers, the sisters say they’ve learned from Beyoncé to believe in the music they create – just the two of them. “It’s an incredible feeling, because yes, we do believe in ourselves, but hearing that from Beyoncé makes us believe in ourselves even more,” Chloe says. While Beyoncé may be the latest mentor in their lives reminding them to believe in themselves and to keep control over their work, it’s a message they’ve been hearing for much longer from their parents, Doug and Courtney.“Our dad is a great writer, and one day he sat us down and said, 'Girls… you’ll have the most power if you write your own stuff,’” Chloe recalls,“so we researched proper song structure together. He taught us about metaphors, similes and alliteration when we were sitting at our dining room table writing our first songs.”

But as much as they’re venturing out with their own music, they still know how to nail a good cover. In late July, the sisters posted their version of one of Chloe’s favorites: “Timmy Turner,” the newest song from rapper Desiigner. The cover, a beautiful two-part harmony that wouldn’t feel out of place on Destiny’s Child’s The Writing’s on the Wall, was a hit with their followers and even inspired response videos from fans. “I love watching people upload videos of themselves dancing to the cover like it’s a full-on trap song,” Chloe enthuses.

It’s these connections with fans and the chance to build a community on the Internet that motivates the sisters to continue uploading covers of other artists’ music (like Rihanna, Lorde and Lil Wayne, to name a few), even as they travel the world with Beyoncé. “Social media has really made us feel like we’re connecting, so we try to keep that link with our fans, because without them we wouldn’t be where we are now,” Chloe says. “The Internet is super important to us,” Halle adds. The Bailey sisters are as gracious as they are skilled, but this is not an exaggeration: “We taught ourselves how to play our instruments off of YouTube videos,” Halle continues. “Chloe even taught herself how to produce fromYouTube – so YouTube has obviously been good to us!”

The Formation Tour audience has been good to them as well, building hype for their as yet untitled debut album, which is set to arrive later this year. “Connecting with people who aren’t familiar with our music and knowing that there are so many eyes looking at us is just so strange,” Chloe says. “But,” she adds, “the most important thing is to believe in yourself.” Beyoncé would be proud.

[s]

#chloexhalle #chloe x halle #chloeandhalle #chloe and halle #sugar symphony #aug 2016 #2016 #sept 2016 #paper mag #paper magazine #photo shoot #chloe bailey #halle bailey #articles #interviews

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duhragonball · 5 years

Text

Dragon Ball Z 290

I’m going to skip around a bit, because much of this episode is just the bracket being filled out while the fighters all stand around chatting. It’s supposed to be a random draw, but Goku asks Buu to cheat for him, much the same way Chiaotzu once rigged the 22nd World Tournament.

Also, 18 calls Krillin a chicken for not entering the tournament himself, and I have to assume this is some sort of weird foreplay they do in public.

Marron’s a teenager at this point, although you can’t really tell by looking here. I have no idea how old Bulla is supposed to be, but I can’t help but think Dragon Ball Super got it wrong. Master Roshi has different sunglasses in this future world, but if I were Krillin and Bulma, I wouldn’t let him anywhere near my daughters.

ANyway, the whole reason Goku wanted to enter this tournament was so he could face this Earthling who’s supposed to be incredibly strong. Vegeta tagged along to see what he was talking about, but he still doesn’t get it. Goku is using Buu to fix it so he can fight his dream opponent in the first round, but who is he?

Turns out it’s this kid.

Here’s the deal: When Goku killed Kid Buu, he wished for him to be reincarnated as a good guy, so they could fight again some day. Goku thinks King Yemma must have decided to give Goku what he wanted, so he arranged for Kid Buu to be reincarnated as a human. And that’s why this part of the story is set ten years after the Kid Buu fight. It was the only way for Kid Buu’s reincarnation to grow up to an age where he could fight Goku. Also, this works out nicely, as the boy is about the same height and build as Kid Buu was.

Goku isn’t sure how he knows this kid is Kid Buu reborn, but he just does. Also, the boy’s name is “Uub”, which is “Buu” backwards. That’s bullshit, but I believe it!

Up in the VIP room, Piccolo and Dende overhear this with their Namekian super-hearing, and Dende seems surprised. Pretty sure there was a scene in Dragon Ball Super where he already knew about Uub before this, but okay.

As for Uub himself, he’s starting to question his decision to enter this tournament. Like Nam in the 21st tournament, he entered to use the prize money to support his village, but he’s starting to realize that there’s a lot of strong people here, and maybe he’s not good enough to win this thing.

As for the tournament, there’s only thirteen participants. Twelve of them fight in brackets, and the winner goes on to face Mr. Satan in the final round. I don’t know if that means Satan is in the tournament with a lot of byes, or what. The matchups are as follows:

Pan vs. Mo Kekko aka Wild Tiger!

Son Goku vs. Uub!

Captain Chicken vs. Nareg aka Kirano!

Majin Buu vs. Goten!

Trunks vs. Otokosuki!

Vegeta vs. Knock!

Yeah, this lineup sucks. Let me work through the small fry real quick.

Wild Tiger is this big dude who resents being pitted against a four-year-old. His job is to recreate that match Krillin had with the big fat guy at the 25th Budokai.

Otokosuki is a leatherboy and probably another sign that this cartoon hasn’t aged well in places. I want to say Otokosuki is an offensive stereotype, but I don’t know enough about him to say for sure. I’m pretty sure Toriyama didn’t draw him this strip to add diversity to the cast. Anyway, he really wants to fuck Trunks.

Knock sucks, so Vegeta hits him once and he has to be stretchered out of the ring before the matches start.

Nareg is a pretty boy, and I keep thinking he’s Jewel from the 25th Budokai, but he’s a whole other blonde pretty-boy type. We learn absolutely nothing about him, so let’s just make up a backstory for him. Uh, he entered the tournament to take revenge on Mr. Satan for murdering his sister, but it was actually King Choppa wearing a Mr. Satan costume.

“Goten”, sometimes referred to as “Son Goten”, was actually a minor character in the Buu Saga, but he got killed off-screen when Buu destroyed the earth. He’s only in this tournament because his dad made him enter.

Anyway, Bulla really liked the part where her dad killed Knock. Good for her, because he won’t be doing anything else for the rest of this show.

All right, let’s get on with this. I’m glad the World Tournament Announcer is still enjoying these things, but this tournament’s a joke and the matches are all rigged.

I dig this girl on the left. That’s a cool look. Is her boyfriend wearing a Potara earring? The Knock merch looks better on him than it does on Knock.

Anyway, Pan obliterates Wild Tiger, so that takes care of the only match in this thing that goes to a finish.

EVEN CAPTAIN CHICKEN IS AFRAID!

Next, it’s Goku vs. Uub, the match Goku’s been waiting for all these years. But Uub’s got stage fright, so Goku has to use HEEL HEAT to get him in a fighting mood.

#HEELGOKU

Goku runs down Uub’s favorite sports teams and tells him his hometown sucks.

Then he threatens to kill Uub, which is kind of going too far, buddy. Just tell him your shoes are worth more than his house.

I don’t know what’s dumber, that Goku is using all this nonsense, or that it actually gets a rise out of the kid.

Then Goku just flat out says Uub’s parents are made out of shit. Insert Vic Mignogna Defmation Suit Joke here.

Then he kicks him in the face. #HEELGOKU taking no prisoners.

HE’S UUBING UP!

Uub’s out of control! He’s had all he can stands, and he can’t stands no more! He’s ready to beat the crap out of Goku...!

...Next time!

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darlingnisi · 5 years

Text

Celebration 2019 VIP Day 3

Opening Session

Spirited start to the day! Fams started a party line around the soundstage to Let’s Work.

JD Steele also led us in a sing along of Raspberry Beret

Bob Cavallo

Moderated by Bobby Z

Earth Wind and Fire’s studio the Complex was the inspiration for Paisley Park. They filmed pickups for Purple Rain there and Prince told Cavallo “I want want one of these”

WB didn’t know much about Purple Rain until it was almost done. It was financially backed by Prince and Cavallo ( Cavallo said he only contributed about 20%...the rest was Prince’s money or advances on his royalties)

Cavallo’s management agreement was about to run out. He told Steve Fargnoli to try to get a Prince to sign a contract for 5 more years. Prince said “I’ll sign one if you get me a movie and not about some drug dealer and jeweler...and I want my name above the title.

They had trouble getting people on board to write the movie William (Bill) Glenn (of Brian’s Song) wrote the first version but it was “not edgy enough...too TV”

No director would sign with them

Watched a movie called Reckless. There was a kid sitting behind him who asked what he thought. Cavallo said it was okay...the kid said “Well I edited it.”

Cavallo had dinner with Albert Magnoli the writer of that movie to see if he’d sign on for Purple Rain. He initially passed. Cavallo “You passed? You don’t have a pot to piss in and you pass? I’d pay you 75k and you’re passing.” Magnoli thought it was too square. Cavallo “Then rewrite it”

“Mo Austin didn’t have anything to do with Purple Rain”

“He made that movie Paul Simon made. That was a failure.”

WB passed on producing the movie, Guber Peters also passed, as well as others

Richard Pryor’s company Indigo Films did NOT pass! Jim Brown (the football player) was CEO at the time. Both Richard and Jim were thrilled to do it! However Jim got mad that Cavallo hired a cinematographer without checking with him as he wanted to hire Black staff to support the project. Bob said he didn’t have time to wait to find some so Indigo dropped the project.

They had a completion bond gaurantor for the film and ended up being 3-4 weeks behind at one point. To catch up, they got more cameras and filmed the movie at multiple angles vs doing several takes. This caught them up.

Promo department thought When Doves Cry was a flop. They wanted Let’s Go Crazy to be the lead single.

Cavallo managed Earth Wind & Fire. (Other info about Cavallo opening a night club his senior year of college which was very successful. Bill Cosby opened for acts when he was coming up on the scene. “He met his wife there and I guess he did other things...” *groan from the audience

On how Cavallo and Prince first linked up Prince had gone to an EWF show and said “When I saw that show, it scared me. I don’t know if I can do something that good.” Asked to meet their manager. Cavallo went to see his show...where he was wearing a Trench coat, panty hose, and g-string. He said “Well young man...show was great....but I don’t think it’s alright to go out on stage in your underwear.”

Prince : Okay I’ll take them off.

He said there was maybe 20 people at that particular show

Purple Rain was made with 7.6 million dollars

They had to fight to get it into theaters to show it. “It was the race thing”

Even WB wasn’t on board at first as a distributor. Cavallo was trying to rally them “If you’re a young Black person age 11-30 and you see Prince headlining his own movie, you’ll go see it opening night.”

At first they could only get a couple of theaters...and were told they couldn’t do it in the south because they were worried about race riots.

Cavallo went to the Chairman of WB with his case and he was on board “Get me 800 theaters or I’ll get someone who will”. (These days movies open in about 2k theaters in the US)

Prince got 15% gross cash guarantee for 3 films

The Purple Rain sequel pitch Cavallo had for Prince was Purple Rain 2 : Further Adventures of The Time. The Time went to Vegas and got in trouble with the mob and cops. Only showgirls liked them. Prince wasn’t in it except for a cameo to give advice.

He also tried to get P to get Madonna to star in Under The Cherry Moon

Prince wrote Under the Cherry Moon even though there’s another name on it.

Cavallo wasn’t a fan of Kristin Scott Thomas as the star. He gave Prince a tape of the options for actresses and put her last.

Prince : “I see why you put her last in the group of girls you figured she would outshine the others!”

Cavallo went on to manage the Disney music catalog among other numerous things.

“The greatest joy I had in the music business was with Prince”

A memory : Prince calls “When are you gonna stop beating that dead horse?”

Cavallo : “What dead horse”

Prince : Earth Wind and Fire

Cavallo scolds him for saying such things

Prince : If you knew how good I was, you’d be meet me in Minneapolis

Cavallo thought about how cold it was there and sent Fargnoli instead

Tour Part 2

Video editing bay

More from Vienna 2014

Forever in My Life (With a Bass solo by P...noticed his voice and bass were turned WAY up in the mix)

Controversy

1999

Atrium

I had to smh at Peach being played during the moment of silence haha gosh #bouncingtitties

Cream top is in the Diamonds and Pearls room which is where I usually spend most of my time watching the show footage in there

Studio B

Nothing really new here if you’ve done a VIP or Ultimate VIP tour.

The isolated vocals for Breakdown are still in the control room

We took pictures with one of the P mic stand Symbols.

The coat on display on the right is the same one he’s wearing on the left

Screening

Musicology May 28, 2004 (Shout out to his sneakers)

Let’s Go Crazy

I Would Die 4 U

When Doves Cry

Baby I’m a Star

Shhh (Good job on the slow pans up his body btw)

DMSR

Acoustic Set (Little Red Corvette, Cream, Raspberry Beret 12:01, Adore, Sweet Thing, Dear Mr Man/Hit the Road Jack, 7) He was super chatty during this. Told the story of going to an after party from the previous night and a “da-runk” (how he said it lolol) guy told him his favorite song was Strawberry Barrette. P made sure to sing that as the lyric when he did Raspbert Beret.

The Funk Soldiers Concert

(I def sprinted up to the front for this! This is MY CREW!)

Rock and Roll is Alive

Chelsea Rogers

Party Up

Black Muse 🙌🏾

Life of the Party

13 They had a dance troupe of 6 young Black girls from a dance studio Prince donated to dancing to this and it gave me LIFE! SO cute and completely appropriate!

You Make My Sun Shine

SHADES OF UMBER OMG 🙌🏾 (Sorry for how I tweeted about this btw, this is what I meant as a nod to the boot listeners. One of the only times this was performed live was at Montreux 2013. It was also extra special because they had local young people doing this song with them and it sounded FANTASTIC!)

Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad

Guitar

Act of God

This was my favorite concert of all of them truly! They added nice touches like playing associated videos behind them or displaying the album art of the albums they were playing from. Their show is always a cross catalog musicology lesson of P’s discog and I appreciate that so much!

Also briefly talked to some reps from Sony again this day. I will say from our conversation I do trust that team with P’s music. They were not suits, they were FANS. Talked deep cuts and Prince nerd geekery with them. Really appreciate that the people trying to do things there are fams as much as we all are, truly. (No seriously I was like don’t look too close at my social media please and we laughed about it). Very excited about stuff that’s on the way! (Different department than the purple wax stuff so don’t ask, lol...)

Probably my favorite day of the 3 guys wow.

#prince #princecelebration2019 #there will be typos #look for the general info as usual

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years

Text

Chapter 10 - Come Sunday

I was sat at the counter later that night as Victor cleaned up the kitchen from making dinner. Harry--who was stood on the other side of the open concept living room strumming a guitar--seemed to finally understand the need to keep a safe distance from each other.

Alex was to my right, scrolling on his phone as he pushed around pieces of rice with his fork. I took one last bite of the papaya glazed chicken on my plate and downed the last sip of my piña colada on the rocks--Victor was truly a Godsend--when my phone rang.

The screen immediately reflected the ceiling above, letting me know that a facetime call was coming through. Kyle’s name, and the obnoxious eggplant emoji he’d chosen to accompany it, started to scroll by. I slid the button at the bottom to answer it, immediately grinning at the image on the screen.

Charlie was looking into the phone, Kyle behind him, both of them at a ridiculously unflattering angle. I let out a laugh in greeting. “Glad it’s just me you’re calling--this angle makes you both look a little...plump.”

“Ha ha,” Kyle rolled his eyes, picking up the phone to hold it at a more appropriate level. He used a hand to reach for Charlie, pulling him onto his lap on his couch back in London. It was late there--dark outside the window behind him and likely much colder than the current warm breeze that floated in from the open slider. “Nice to see you, too.”

Harry, in the time it took Kyle to adjust and get Charlie resituated on his lap, had made his way over to me, eagerly smiling into the camera behind me like an idiot. He liked Kyle, of course, but I knew very well he was just trying to get a glimpse of his favorite feline friend.

“How is he doing?” Harry cooed into the camera, shoving his face over my shoulder--leaving only a few inches between us, as he let a grin take over. “He looks good, is he eating well?”

“Margaret did you forget to tell me that Harry has signed adoption papers or something?” Kyle teased, pulling his head back in amusement as I shoved Harry away from me with an elbow.

“He’s just clingy,” I dismissed. “But--is he eating well?”

“Jesus, the both of you,” another eye roll. “He’s eating just fine. He’s been excited to see us when we come home from work and extremely excited for cuddles at bedtime. Figured we’d give a call to say hello.”

“Well it’s very much appreciated,” I smiled, watching as Charlie maneuvered his head to keep Kyle’s hand moving in a calming pattern. I could hear clamor behind Kyle, likely somewhere in the bathroom or kitchen. “How’s Mark? How’d wedding planning?”

He let out a sigh, running his free hand through his quiff of brown hair. “He’s fine, it’s fine. Just--trying to pick a venue,” he raised his voice, clearly hoping Mark would overhear his conversation. He turned back to me with a smile. “The real question, however, is how’s Jamaica? How is the sun in your hair and the sand in your titties?”

“Okay, alright, a lot of people in the room,” I said to Kyle, taking a quick scan to determine who’d heard his comment. Based on the smile on Jeffrey and Alex’s faces, it seemed like it was just them. Tyler, Jeff, Mitch--the guitarist who’d be playing on the album, Ryan, Teddy, and Matt, had all seemed to meander outside, a few of them were seated in the recliners that were dispersed over the slate patio.

I figured we’d have a few drinks, write a bit more, enjoy the nice weather outside. Suddenly, I felt a little homesick for London and a bit more out of place. I thought I’d made my peace with being the only woman in the house, the only one who needed to figure out what type of Jamaican tampons would best suit me, the only one to have titties to get sand in.

But with the once mixed drink I’d already had, a wave of sadness washed over me. How long was I supposed to pretend that I belonged here? These people--these writers and producers and musicians--all had been vetted and hand-picked by Jeffrey and the rest of Harry’s management. I, however, was handpicked by Harry--likely due to his need to get laid and his inability to think with his brain as soon as it became clear that maybe he’d get some from me.

But I knew that something about that didn’t feel right either. Whether or not I knew Harry as well as Niall or Liam did, I knew he wasn’t just keeping me around for that. I mean, afterall, we’d only had sex twice.

But was I ruining it? Was I ruining a chance of him seeing me as a real writer and someone with real talent if I slept with him at his beck and call?

Kyle’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Where is good old Harold? Let me talk with him,” he said.

At the sound of his own name, Harry’s eyebrows jumped in excitement as he made his way back over to me. I handed him the phone before bringing my drink over towards the fridge to try to recreate whatever Victor had poured in it before.

By 9pm when the sun was down and the music had officially been turned on, I was sat at the edge of the pool with Tyler and Mitch on either side of me. It was nice to get to know both of them, nice to hear their stories, hear where they were from, and it was especially nice to hear that we’d added another American (Mitch) to the team.

I wasn’t exactly keeping track of how much everyone was drinking, but it became clear as the stars became brighter that everyone else was a little bit ahead of me. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t have my dirty shirley’s, or maybe it was the fact that my overthinking didn’t quite lend itself to a drunken night.

“Alright, then, what’s on your Jamaica bucket list?” Teddy asked Matt and Harry. They sat a ways away from us, Teddy’s back to me as he ran a hand through his hair.

I figured keeping my distance would be smart--I worried that my closeness with Harry would come off as unprofessional. I worried that if anyone found out that we’d slept together, I’d never get hired again in the business. Call me catastrophic, but the jump from A to Z didn’t seem too difficult. Would Jeffrey fire me if he knew? Did he have that power?

“Ziplining would be wicked,” Harry shrugged, waiting for Teddy to chime in. Mitch seemed to quiet down to hear their conversation, Alex did the same. I kept my eyes on the small waves in the pool, wondering how on earth I’d gone from an awkward rendezvous in the hallway to having sex with Harry in a master suite in Jamaica. Jeff Bhasker--who was waist deep in the water--had shared that he was definitely in the mood for an evening swim.

“What about like a pub crawl?” Teddy suggested, looking from Harry and then back to Matt.

“I’m always up for that,” Alex chimed in, leaned back to see past me.

“We might get a ridiculously drunk former popstar on our hands,” Ryan called from his spot in the pool. He leaned against the edge, watching between the two groups as the conversation seemed to become an entire, house-wide topic.

“I can handle myself just fine,” Harry held up a hand in defense, his nose scrunched in amusement.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of girls trying to get with you if we go into Kingston or Montego,” Tyler let out a laugh, his words seemingly innocent and comical.

My stomach, though, did not find them either innocent or comical. Instead, a knot the size of the fancy shower head in my bathroom suddenly felt cemented in my gut--a steady reminder that the deeper I got in this whole thing, the more I had to lose.

Harry’s eyes seemed to look everywhere but mine. “I’m definitely trying to keep a low profile, so that’s--not going to happen.”

I didn’t know if he was saying that because of me or saying it because of my presence. Either way felt uncomfortable and made me feel stupid. I waited for someone else to speak and stood from my spot and headed for the doors inside. Luckily, Tyler and Alex seemed to say something else about a rowdy night out, keeping others entertained while I slipped back into the house.

I let the sliding door shut behind me, their voices and music now muffled. The air inside was cooler--the air conditioning had kicked back on and the lights were all off. I wondered, for a second, what would happen if I packed my bags and called for a car to the airport.

I didn’t have a chance to really think it all through before the sliding door opened behind me.

“Oh, hey,” Jeffrey said, his smile soft and concerned behind me. I turned to face him, the light from the patio seeping in to light our silhouettes.

“Hi, sorry, I was just--thinking.”

“Y’okay?” He moved towards the kitchen, his eyes narrowed at me as he reached for a bag of chips on the counter. I was thankful that he’d come inside for a snack, not because he picked up on my nervousness or embarrassment.

“Fine, yeah, I was just gonna use the bathroom.”

He nodded, reaching a hand in and placing a few chips in his mouth. “Big day tomorrow, you ready?”

He was referring to the fact that we were set to spend all day in the studio. We’d decided that getting ourselves up and out of the house in the morning might lead to more productivity--Harry had decided that he wanted to really get comfortable with the space and the instruments we’d have access to down the road.

“Pumped,” I told him. And I was--I was excited to be writing again and be working with people who were extremely talented. The only catch was that one of them--the one who was technically my boss--was also the guy I was sleeping with.

I was stood behind Harry at a small deli in town as he ordered some sort of intricate sandwich. The morning rain had made way for a sunny day--and when he suggested we leave the rest of the group behind on our lunch break, I was hesitant at first.

I’d dipped outside of the studio to check my phone. Not only did I need a minute in the sun, but I also could stand a minute of silence before heading back inside. The studio was our dark and carpeted sanctuary for the day, and Jeffrey and the others had ordered Italian take out.

It’d been a week since we’d arrived. A week of writing and swimming and exploring the town that was now somewhat of a home base. We’d written about 7 different songs. Each of which had a melodic reminder that I was digging myself a ditch.

When Harry found me on the deck, he’d said he was in the mood for a sandwich.

I reluctantly got in the car, feeling like every word we said to each other was somehow cementing my fate. I couldn’t tell if anyone suspected anything so far--no one had brought it up, no one had mentioned that we seemed to spend a fair amount of time together and be awfully close.

I hoped, with everything in me, that they believed him when Harry introduced me as his good friend Maggie.

“And whatever she wants, too,” he spoke to the man behind the counter.

“I can get lunch,” I told him, reaching for my wallet in the bag on my shoulder. “Can I do a chicken caesar wrap, please?”

Harry kept his eyes on me, and when I sidestepped him to pay at the register, I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

He shrugged his shoulders quickly but didn’t abandon the smirk on his face. “You’re just funny.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, my eyebrows raised in amusement as I handed a woman my card.

“The money stuff,” he said quietly. “I don’t mind--if I did, I’d tell you.”

I didn’t know if I believed him--I didn’t know if he would tell me. I thanked the woman for my receipt and stood beside him as we waited for our sandwiches. “I can buy you a sandwich. It won’t break the bank.”

He let out a quick laugh at that, slinking an arm over my shoulders. He pulled me closer to him, the warmth of his body felt comforting against mine. He leaned down, pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and then pulled his phone out his pocket.

I stood, frozen for a second. It was a small gesture, one that could never have happened in London, or likely anywhere else on the planet. He let his arm rest there, dangling over my shoulder.

Eventually, the man behind the counter turned around to offer our food. He looked down at the two wrapped sandwiches in his hands, offering one forward first. “For you,” he held it out to Harry, and then held the other out. “For your girlfriend.”

Harry immediately looked down at me with an obnoxiously silly smile, his eyebrows raised in delight. “For my girlfriend,” he repeated, both dimples present on his cheeks. I took the sandwich he handed forward to me and turned to head for the door, doing my best to fight the smile on my own face.

We found a table outside and sat, the smirk still on Harry’s face as bit into his lunch with sunglasses perched atop his nose.

“Knock it off,” I said, keeping my lips in as close to a straight line as possible.

“Knock what off?” He asked, looking up to meet my eyes, his lips still curled up into a tight smile. “I can’t control that everyone else sees what you don’t.”

I let out a sigh at that--partially because I didn’t know what to say, but mostly because he hadn’t been that straightforward with me about it.

“I don’t see why you’re so afraid of this,” he shrugged his shoulders, again, leaving me a bit speechless at his honesty and bluntness. He chewed and watched me, apparently more than comfortable with the conversation at hand.

What was I supposed to say? Sitting on a rickety old porch of a sandwich shop in Port Antonio didn’t leave me feeling equipped for this conversation. Being thousands of miles from home and thousands of miles from stability made me wonder what he wanted to hear.

“I don’t see why you’re so not afraid of this,” I murmured, instantly regretting the words that left my mouth. Natural, Maggie. Articulate, Maggie. I rolled my eyes at myself as he took another bite.

He spoke around the food in his mouth. “You have feelings for me, yeah?”

He asked the question but kept his eyes on his sandwich as he repositioned the roll and his hold on it. I nodded, which made him look up at me. I didn’t speak, I was kind of just waiting to see where he was going for this.

“Okay, and I’ve got feelings for you.”

“That doesn’t make it a good idea. That doesn’t mean that we can just ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. This isn’t some movie or stupid love story.” I was getting angry now, my appetite suddenly gone for the wrap in front of me. Harry, who seemed rather unperturbed by my sudden shift in mood, took another bite of his sandwich.

“M’not saying that,” his words were muffled until he swallowed. “But I am saying that I think we should stop pretending this isn’t a thing.”

I watched him for a second. His calmness was equal parts annoying and reassuring, but I couldn’t decide which felt more accurate. I stared at him--watching as he took another bite and chewed. He stared at me--waiting for some sort of response.

“And what do you suppose we about the fact that there are a bunch of other people here?”

He looked up at me, shrugged his shoulders, and then shifted in his seat. “Dunno. M’not saying we have to tell everyone--I’m just tired of having to pretend that this isn’t happening. Just--I dunno--be my girlfriend.”

“Be your girlfriend?” I asked, pulling my head back from him in a mix of shock and doubt. I didn’t necessarily doubt that he had feelings for me, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of being his girlfriend.

He nodded simply, his eyes only leaving my face when another car pulled into the parking lot.

He was being naive--he was acting as if this weren’t as big of a deal as it was. Sure--it might feel like nothing to agree to be his girlfriend on the deck of some sandwich shop in Jamaica, but when we went back to London, everything would be different.

Aside from the fact that he was paying for everything on this trip, we were on a pretty level playing field in the present moment. Here he could come to the grocery store, walk down the street and even come out to lunch.

In London, things just weren’t that simple. This album held meaning. It meant he was committing to at least three months on tour. At least two continents, probably a month of promo. This album simultaneously gave us time to figure out whatever was going on between us, but it also set us up for an undeniable shift in the near future.

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” I said quietly, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice.

“Why’s that?”

I rolled my eyes at him a little--the way he spoke so casually about it made it seem like I was being difficult. I preferred to see it as realistic.

“You’re going to have to tour this album, and you’ll be busy, and I’ll be stuck in London.”

He took another bite, his eyes lazily flashing to the wrap in front of me that was sufficiently uneaten. Maybe he disagreed, but he didn’t say so. Instead, we were interrupted by his ringing phone--another reminder that we lived two different worlds. People always wanted something from him. People wanted to know where he was, what he was doing. I didn’t know if I could quite keep up.

He clicked his phone to silence the ring and flipped it over on the table.

“You can get that,” I said flatly, bringing my eyes out to the ocean that was likely only a mile down the road.

He shrugged and waved a hand to dismiss it. “S’just Mitch. We’ll be back there in fifteen. It can wait.”

I was quiet for a second, I kept my eyes on the trees and the scenery around us, the air much fresher than it was in London. I appreciated what he was saying, I was flattered and pleased and probably even somewhat flustered over the fact that Harry was requesting a label on our relationship.

“You don’t have to commit to anything,” he said, his voice now quiet and his eyes avoiding mine. His hair was up in a bun--a few loose strands blew in the wind against his forehead.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be his girlfriend. In a perfect world I wouldn’t question it--I wouldn’t feel insecure and I wouldn’t always feel so hung up on the fact that he was basically my boss. It a perfect world we would have met in a bar instead of at a bus stop and he’d just be Harry--not the one with the long hair who cost me my job.

I turned to look at him now--his eyes were on mine and he offered me a sheepish smile.

“We just--” I paused, almost surprised that the words were about to come out of my mouth. He raised his eyebrows in an effort to get more words out of me. “We can’t tell anyone.”

His lips pulled up into a smile. “It’ll be between you, me, and the guy who made our sandwiches.” I rolled my eyes playfully at him, but he reached over and poked at my wrap. “Eat up,” he said. “I didn’t pay one thousand Jamaican dollars for you to throw that out.”

I was laid in bed that night, my hair up in a bun and the door shut to block the noise from downstairs. We’d spent most of the afternoon writing--after four new songs and a sunburn from being by the pool, I’d decided that I was going to turn in early.

Apparently, everyone else had a different idea. I could hear the laughter and the voices travel up the stairs and drift down the hall, lighting a tiny flame of loneliness in my stomach. I didn’t really want to be down there with them--in fact, I think they were all just hanging out in the living room.

The weather had taken a turn around dinner and it seemed to be a colder night than usual, but it didn’t stop me from feeling like I should be social, make a name for myself, impress my co-writers and not let them know that I was secretly shagging the boss.

I tried to focus on the movie in front of me--I was 45 minutes in to The Time Traveler’s Wife when there when the noise volume finally lessened. Another ten minutes passed before there was a knock on my door.

I figured it was Jeff or Mitch, coming to see if I wanted a drink or if I wanted to go out wherever they were likely headed. We’d been doing that a lot--even if we just brought bottles of rum to the beach and stared up at the stars.

Instead, though, I found Harry, a big grin on his face and a good 90% of his hair missing. “What did you do?!” I reached a hand forward to touch it--the strands that once skimmed his shoulders and collarbones were gone. Instead, it was pushed to the side, styled, almost, and the smile from his face faded quickly.

“You don’t like it?”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “It looks great, I just have never seen you with such...little hair.”

He smiled at this, tilting his head to the side, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. I kissed him for a second, but eventually let my hands reach up to put distance between us. “Who cut your hair?”

“Someone Jeffrey’s friend knows. He just left. Is it too short?” He pushed past me and walked into the bathroom that was attached to my room. He slipped the light switch on and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked side to side, analyzing his new look.

“It looks--” I paused, searching for the words. He looked older, less boyband and more solo. He looked cleaner and more attractive and I felt my eyebrows raising as he stared at me in the mirror.

“It looks what?” He turned around, leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms.

“It looks fine,” I said simply.

His typical obnoxious smirk found its way onto his face, as he wiggled his brow in a suggestive manner. “You think it’s quite attractive, don’t you?”

I shrugged my shoulders, trying desperately to keep my cool. I wasn’t about to tell him that he looked straight out of a GQ cover shoot--it would clearly just go to his head. “Yeah, you look good.”

He let out an amused laugh, reaching to grab my hand and pull me into him. “You’re quite difficult,” he said, his voice low and in my ear. “But I find it quite entertaining.”

There were steps on the stairs in the hallway, I pulled away quickly, just in time for Ryan to stick his head in the doorway to my room. “What are you guys doing?”

I took a step away from Harry and back into my bedroom. “He just wanted to see if it got the approval of a woman. And it did.”

Ryan smiled a bit and watched as Harry turned around to ruffle his own hair again in the mirror. “What are you up to, all alone, anyway? Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” I said casually. “Just was watching a chick flick.”

“I love a good romantic comedy,” Harry said with wide eyes and another smirk.

“You can all go back downstairs,” I laughed a little. “Have your bro time and crush beers or whatever you all do.”

Ryan let out a laugh but Harry pulled his head back in feigned disgust. “Is that what you think we do? Crush beers?”

I shrugged, just trying to get Harry to stop drawing attention to the two of us.

“Jeffrey and I are known to enjoy a good rom com here and there. Haven’t you read Cosmo? The Notebook is one of my favorite films.”

I let out a scoff, Ryan seemed entertained by our dynamic. “I did not know that,” I admitted.

He walked past me towards Ryan, waving over his shoulder. “Bring it downstairs, we can all watch.”

I stood frozen in my bedroom, watching as he wedged past Ryan in the doorway. “What? No. We’re not all going to watch a dumb movie, it’s not even that good.”

Harry turned around quickly and looked utterly unimpressed. “Trust me, it’s one of Jeffrey’s favorites.”

“Shut up,” I hissed at him two hours later, his face barely visible in the dark. He grabbed at my waist, causing a high pitched squeak to come out of my mouth--I didn’t even know my vocal cords could make that noise.

He laughed, trying his best to keep his voice down, as we walked down the hallway. He spent our entire trip up the staircase trying to convince me to come to bed with him--and while it sounded delightful, there were four other people in the house who had to come upstairs, down the hall, and go to sleep with zero knowledge that Harry and I were spending the night under the same sheets.

I opened the door to his bedroom, and as soon as it was shut behind us, he brought his hands to my face and pressed his lips hard against mine.

I giggled against his mouth, the warmth of his skin against mine helped push the impending thoughts of doom out of my head. In these moments, his tour, his album, the rest of our lives waiting in London didn’t matter. It was just me and him and the sound of the jungle outside the house.

He walked me over to the bed, and when we were close enough, I let myself flop back onto it. He laughed at this, rolling his eyes at how dramatic I was as I let out a quiet sigh. He crawled up to me, but then instead of bringing his lips back to mine, he laid on his stomach and rested his head on his arms.

“It’s so short,” I reached out to touch his hair again, he made a pleased sound when my hand made contact with his head.

“Hey Maggie,” he said, his voice still low and his eyes more droopy than before.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m falling in love with you.”

“Did that sound shitty?” His voice carried through the microphone and into the room.

He was behind the glass in the dark booth, his eyes waiting for a response from Ryan. “No,” he reassured him. “It was fine.”

“Actually?”

“Actually,” Ryan confirmed. “But let’s do it again.”

Mitch and I both let out a laugh, more than amused by how picky both Harry and Ryan had been throughout the entire morning.

We’d decided to record three or four songs today--ones that we all really liked and felt were sure to be on the album, that is, unless we wrote better songs that took precedence.

I had my feet up on the coffee table, a water bottle in my hands that Jeff Bhasker wanted to use as a percussion instrument on the previous track. Mitch, whose head was back against the couch with his eyes closed, seemed to hum along as Harry sang.

I didn’t feel as awkward as I thought I would. In fact, in the ten days that had passed since Harry had told me he was falling in love with me, I almost felt more at ease with the rest of the group.

We’d spend our mornings having breakfast, we’d head to the studio, do some work, and then come home for lunch. We’d go back and do it again, sometimes ordering take out and working until 1am.

Other days we’d come home in the afternoon and swim, we’d go to the beach, we’d write songs around the long dining table. It was a constant flow of creative energy. Even if we weren’t writing, we were thinking. We were bouncing lyrics and concepts back and forth. We’d hum and sing melodies that we’d come up with and we’d edit old songs that we thought needed work.

After three weeks of being here, I finally settled in.

“Okay that one definitely sounded like rubbish,” Harry laughed into the mic, making eye contact with me as he ran a hand through his hair. He gave me a toothy grin, waited for Ryan to set him back up where he’d punch in, and then sang the line again.

I stood--I realized what it was that they didn’t like. When Ryan paused him again, Jeff looked up at me in expectation.

“I think the problem with the verse is that the melody is too repetitive,” I looked at Harry behind the glass window. “If you go up in pitch in the middle I think it’d be more...catchy.”

“What do you hear?” Jeff asked, his hands clasped over his lap.

“I can’t touch what I see,” I sang the line back to them and waited. Harry, who looked thoughtful, nodded at Jeff.

“I think that sounds better,” he said.

“Me too,” Jeff agreed. “Do it again,” he pointed at Ryan, who queued Harry up at the same exact punch.

Harry sang the line, looked to Jeff expectantly, and then to me. “We’ve got to start from the top and re do it. That’s the way it should sound.”

Jeff smiled a bit, then turned to Ryan. “You heard him.”

I wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but almost everyone was inside. It’d been a long week of recording, recording more, and writing. It was finally Friday, meaning we had about two weeks left in Jamaica before we were set to head our separate ways. With 12 songs recorded, Harry was starting to get antsy about making the final decisions on what would stay and what would go.

The fix, for that, we all decided, was an excessive amount of alcohol after Victor had cooked a delicious lobster dinner. We weren’t all quite inebriated yet, but when the rain started to pour down outside and we were cooped up in the living room, the drinking continued, the music got louder, and Harry started dancing in the center of the room in a Hawaiian shirt. That’s when I knew it was going to be a long night.

I decided, though, at half past midnight, to FaceTime Kyle. He was traveling in the states with Mark--they claimed to need a pre-honeymoon to deal with all of the stress of wedding planning. It rang twice before he answered.

It was dark and loud and I could barely hear him, but when he stepped outside of whatever bar they inhabited in New York City, his face became much clearer.

“Long time no chat,” he smiled into the phone, Mark waved from behind him as he lit a cigarette.

“I’m busy--you know, working,” I laughed, motioning around the room behind me--which was nearly as rowdy as a Greenwich Village nightclub.

Harry, at the sound of Kyle’s voice, was making his way towards me with a big smile and an eagerness to talk to our friend.

He was sitting down beside me on the couch when Kyle replied. “Thank God that you stuck it out even though you didn’t even want to be his friend. It has obviously paid off financially!” He let out a giggle, completely ignorant to the weight that his words held and the ears they fell on.

Harry pulled his head back and I could see him try to process Kyle’s words despite the liquor in his veins. I could feel my own world slow down as I realized what Harry had just heard.

“Kyle,” I said slowly, my heart rate climbing--Harry tensed beside me. I looked at Kyle through the screen, back to Harry, and then back to my phone again.

Harry stood, his fists clenched beside him as he made a beeline for the sliding door to the patio. I was frozen for a second, unsure of if this were real and how to respond. The music in the room seemed obnoxiously loud, the laughing was distracting, and I suddenly wished that the alcohol that I’d already consumed would clear itself from my brain.

I looked back to Harry as his hand made contact with the door.

“Fuck Kyle,” I said, emotion raw in my voice as I hung up quickly and tried to weave between Mitch and Teddy. The front door slammed behind him, causing Jeffrey and Tyler to look in my direction as I made my way for the foyer.

I was outside and into the rain behind him--he was ten steps ahead of me, walking around the corner of the house.

“Harry hold on!” I called out, the adrenaline pushed me into the rain, the water was cool on my feet as I picked up my pace through the wet grass.

He didn’t turn around--instead, he trudged up the hill towards the front of the house.Sure, maybe I hadn’t initially wanted to be friends with someone who was rich and famous and undeniably out of my league. Maybe I didn’t want to be friends with the guy who cost me my job and seemed to know exactly how to irk me before he even knew my name. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system, but maybe it was the fact that I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. Instead of trying to apologize, I criticized him.

“This is so dramatic,” I called after him, watching his figure storm into the night. “Really? Running away into the rain?” I yelled louder this time, my voice carrying through the little piece of jungle that had become somewhat of a private paradise.

“Oh fuck off, Maggie,” he yelled over his shoulder--his voice much angier than I’d expected. He stopped short in the driveway, turning to face me suddenly. His eyebrows were drawn together in anger, his lips in a thin line that made me question the entirety of our relationship. “Don’t tell me m’being dramatic when you’re the one who’s been lying.”

“I haven’t been lying!” I defended, letting my hands slap against my legs in defiance. He’d barely given me a chance to speak before running out of the room--I figured he at least owed me a minute to explain myself.

“No? You haven’t been? Then why is it that Kyle’s under the impression that you’re here just for the money? Just for the work? That’s all this has ever been?”

“No,” I said through clenched teeth, but he didn’t even pause for a breath.

“You’re only friends with me--doing whatever this is--because you were so terrified of what you’d be without a job?”

“No!” I said again, this time the emotion more raw in my voice. I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes, but I was thankful for the fact that the rain would mask whatever spilled over and onto my cheeks. He faltered a bit when he heard my voice crack--the anger seemed to dissipate in the slightest for just a second, and then he frowned again.

“I thought this was different, Maggie,” he sounded almost defeated now--the rain was soaking into his short hair, the droplets felt warm on my skin as then soaked through the t-shirt I wore. He shook his head quickly, rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake!” He yelled, his voice carrying over the trees and echoing against the garage doors behind us. “I sound so fucking stupid,” he said. “I can’t fucking believe I fell for this.”

“You didn’t fall for anything, Harry!” I tried to take a step towards him, but instead of looking at me, he kept his gaze above my head. He stared off into the night--a light in the driveway illuminated the asphalt on which we stood. This was the type of scene we’d written about so many times.

This type of dramatic, emotion-fueled climax was the shit that songwriters ate for breakfast. We lived for it, really. We lived for the imagery of tears mixing with rain, the feeling of a heart so broken you wonder if it’s jumped right out of your chest and now lies beating on the ground.

I was quiet now--mostly because I didn’t know what to say, but also because he wouldn’t look at me.

He was shaking his head. It wasn’t pronounced, it wasn’t obnoxious, it was just a slight and steady head shake that made my head throb a little harder. My entire face was wet--I was sure that most of it was tears, but the passing storm still seemed to mask my emotions as I reached a hand out to touch him.

I reached for a button on the front of his shirt--mid way up, it was right next to a printed leaf that now looked like darker green, thanks to the rain.

He looked down at my hand--at the contact between us--and then stepped back.

“You just need to hear me out,” I said quietly, my voice barely loud enough over the sound of the rain on the concrete beneath us. “Please,” I panted.

His eyes, still lingering on the spot where my fingers met his shirt, avoided my face at all cost. “No, Maggie, I don’t.”

#come sunday #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles fiction #harry styles jamaica #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction

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yeshawrites · 5 years

Text

AGENCY, CHAPTER 1. You can find all other works of mine here. NOTES: This story is not always friendly. It contains some graphic content, brief mentions of non-sexual nudity, murder, death, and plenty of language. Please be advised before you read it. I won’t tag everything as it comes along unless it is particularly upsetting.

Xi’s list of things to worry about was very, very long.

In no particular order: he still had to call back the Vice President, check in on Desch’s hunt, follow up on the possible sighting, arrange Father Rodriguez’ funeral, and make sure the South Carolina division didn’t need assistance (and so help him, if they stayed dark even a moment longer, he would call in the Rock to send out Watchers. They didn’t need another San Francisco). There was a leak in the garage roof that still needed mending and naturally no one had come to check it yet. No doubt the pouring rain was making a mess of things.

But that was all secondary for now. The police cruiser pulled to a stop in front of the hospital and he murmured his thanks to the escort, kicking open the door and very nearly biting it on the soaked pavement. He straightened up only to drive his toe straight into the curb. What a start. Grinding the ball of his foot to numb the pain, he followed the waiting security personnel into the emergency room.

No one but the staff awaited him. Good. They’d followed his instructions. A couple of nurses huddled behind the counter. One of them cried softly into a napkin, blood tangled in her curling hair and dripping on her flower scrubs. Another day he might have stopped and soothed her, but if the situation was as they said, he had no time. Another nurse carded him through the shut doors and kept her eyes pinned to the floor.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and kept going.

The hallway was a wreck. Little brown patches of blood speckled the floor. In one of the rooms he could see a doctor tending to a bad slash on his hand, a similar one still gushing from his shoulder. Security and a few staff had piled overturned tables at the far end of the hall. He nearly laughed. If it were really what they said, no number of tables would protect them.

“Hey.” One of the security jogged over to him, still breathless. “You’re the guy, right?”

“Yes. Where is she?”

“Room one twenty-four. We tried sedation and it didn’t kick in.” For not the first time that night, Xi watched as the guard appraised him up and down, doubt creeping in the corners of his mouth. It was a natural reaction, all things considered. They’d come armed with handguns and sedatives and body armor. For his part, he’d shown up in a Dior coat. “Do, uh, you need anything?”

“No,” Xi replied smoothly. “Thank you. Not unless you have a ponytail holder on hand.”

One of the nurses offered hers silently. He caught up his long black hair with a few quick twists and gave her a thankful smile before stepping around the makeshift barrier. Things only got worse the further he went. Shattered glass scraped around his shoes, the grate protecting the overhead lights swinging free and the sparking of a broken bulb telling a tale all its own. More blood. Something scraped loudly against the floor. Quietly he patted his chest pocket and made sure he had all he needed.

Room one twenty-four. Inhaling deep, Xi stepped over the threshold. First things first: more blood. It was smeared in wide strokes over the linoleum. The blood pressure machine lay on its side, the cuff dangling over an empty hospital bed. All of the cabinets were open wide, their contents spilling down the counter and across the floor, pill bottles still rolling. The only chair in the room was overturned and missing one of its metal legs.

He almost missed the girl crouching in the corner.

She was very small and her posture made her smaller. Her knees were bent clear to her chest, bracing herself with one arm and clutching a scalpel soaked in blood with the other. Greasy black hair strung around her face, two wild hazel eyes a sharp contrast to the track marks dotting her tan arms and dark bruises on her throat. He took one more step into the room and she raised her weapon threateningly.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. This was a child. How had a child caused all this chaos? He almost suspected the report was right--but something stilled him. No. If she were one of them, it made no sense that she’d react this way to him. “I’m not one of them.”

“Our Father which art in Heaven,” she answered shakily. “Hallowed be thy name…”

“Thy kingdom come,” he added. “Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. What’s your name?”

She didn’t move. Xi crouched to her level and pulled the large steel cross from his coat pocket, holding it before her. Nothing. He wrapped both his hands around the icon and pressed, then showed her his palms.

“See?” He murmured encouragingly. “Nothing. Now your turn.”

The cross screeched horribly as he skated it over the floor, but she picked it up all the same, wrapping her bloody fingers around it as if it were a liferaft. A litany of line items scrolled through his mind: no rash, no burning, no smoke, no smell…

“So this really works?” She asked at last, wriggling the cross in her hand. “Really really?”

“Well, it isn’t actually the shape that does anything.” He settled down in the blood lotus-style, already resigned to the dry cleaning bill for his coat. “It’s the metal content. But testing indicated some of the staff felt better about it in a cross shape, so we kept that one on hand. We have a few different styles, I just defaulted to that one if I’m honest.”

“Are the demons gone?”

Xi almost smiled at her and thought better of it. “For now. You’re safe.”

Her reproachful stare was haunting. “You can’t be sure. You can’t ever be sure.”

“I’m as sure as one can be, unfortunately. You could say I’m something of an expert. I am part of a group they call in for things like this. Where did you see the demons? How are you so sure that they’re demons? It looks like you’ve been through the wringer.”

Those hazel eyes sparked and flashed like a fire. “I’m not hallucinating it. I know what a trip feels like. It followed me.”

“Followed you?” He echoed. “Followed you from where?”

Once again the child fell silent. No good pressing yet. Instead he reached out his hand. “I’m Xi Piotrowsky.”

“Like the letter?”

“X-I, but yes, said like the letter ‘Z’. What’s yours?”

She didn’t take the hand. He pulled it back. “Aishe Sarraf.”

“Pakistani?”

“And French.”

“You’re a long way from France. Where do your parents live?”

“Nice.”

“As in France? Who is your guardian here?”

“No one. I came alone.”

That complicated things. Xi mulled over his options before saying, “Well, let me tell you what. If you’d let staff look at you--”

“I’m not crazy!” She yelled.

“No, you’re not,” he soothed immediately. “You’re utterly sane, and that’s the most terrifying part of this. But if I’m right, you’re going to start withdrawing soon, and you’ll need medical attention for that at least. They’ll bandage you up and I promise I’ll stay the whole time. What do you say?”

Aishe lowered the scalpel. She was maybe sixteen and far, far too young to be in the state she was in, and all at once Xi wanted to strangle everyone who’d laid their hands on her.

“You promise?” She whispered.

He made the sign of the cross over his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

#Agency #my writing #1.#original fiction #writeblr #Xi #Aishe Sarraf #Xi Piotrowsky #medical tw

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sailor-cresselia · 6 years

Text

Try and Re-Build

They can't stay here.

This version of Touto is so, so much better off then the one they left. (The one they... replaced? Repaired? … erased?)

But it hurts to be here.

It hurts so, so much to encounter these people, to even see the strangers carrying names and wearing faces that they met and knew, that they fought against and alongside.

They thought about meeting them, and trying again, at first.

But it would be cruel.

Not just for themselves, but for the others too.

Sento and Ryuuga both know full well that they wouldn't be able to separate their friends who lived there from the people who live here, and that’s not fair to these familiar strangers.

It's just too hard, seeing a laughing farmer and his friends, who never had to give up their humanity so their families could live, but who can joke and cheer and relax.

(And isn’t it strange that he still falls for the same girl?)

Seeing politician and his son, who hadn't been worn down and torn to pieces by a war, but are thriving and whole.

Seeing an engineer and a reporter who didn’t have their lives planned, but who got to choose their own paths.

(And isn’t it strange that the dynamics shift, but the choices are still so similar?)

Seeing a pair of goofs with a band, and a successful one at that.

(And isn’t it strange, that even after endangering him, they never thought to tell Tatsuya that Sento wasn’t Satou Taro, did they? They probably should have… but how do you tell someone that? And there was no time. Just one more mistake.)

Seeing a father who runs a booming cafe.

(And they never even knew him the first time around, did they? It was never really him back then.)

Seeing a daughter who goes shopping and sings karaoke with her friends and smiles, who doesn’t carry that awful weight and guilt of being used and tricked on her shoulders.

(And why couldn’t they have seen sooner that she blamed herself? Yet another mistake.)

Seeing a woman who got treatment and recovered.

(It hurts so much that she won’t know him – not this version of him.)

Seeing a man who never had to throw a fight.

(The monkey jokes are harsher looking back – and also couldn’t have been further from the mark.)

Seeing a scientist who openly loves his parents.

(Did she know it was him? Even when he didn’t know who he was, did she?)

(Did she know his father was still alive, too?)

~ ~ ~

Identities are a problem, too. Sento has one mans face and memories for another two, and Ryuuga has a fully-human double born seven months after him. They don’t (didn’t?) exist here – not in a way that fits the shape of this new world.

They have a phone that's a bike, and a mechanical dragon that hasn't woken up. (Ryuuga hopes it will, someday. He grew fond of the little guy.)

They've got two belts, and two bottles - one silver, one gold.

(Neither has tried using them. It feels like it would be bad luck to try, but that it would be even worse to get rid of them.)

Kiryu Sento and Banjou Ryuuga cannot stay in Touto, which is properly a city again, not a war-torn city-district-region-country hybrid.

WAS it a city in their world? They aren’t really sure anymore. Neither of them remember much of politics before the Skywall. Sento only ever really picked up (was given?) memories through Takumi's days in high school, and what happened after Katsuragi Takumi ‘woke up.’ Besides, Takumi was focused considerable more on science than… well, pretty much anything else. Banjou was 13 – he was just a kid! – when the wall went up, and a lot of his youth was blurred and smudged and faded by Evolt.

(Back home, it was Quite A Day when he realized that Misora was the only one there younger than him. Kazumin called him a kid for a week.)

~ ~ ~

They can’t stay here.

So. they leave.

They leave the city that they remember but don't know.

~ ~ ~

And finding work is hard when you don't have a past that doesn’t and can’t match the world you’re in, and everything down to the roads just isn’t the same compared to the ones you know/remember/knew.

History is one of the biggest differences.

~ ~ ~

They look up the history of the other Earth, to see how far back it diverged from their own. They go back 25 years, and there hasn’t been anything that returned from Mars. So that's a good sign, they guess.

(They hope.)

They go back further, to make sure they don’t say the wrong things, and start looking up cultural changes as well, to make sure they can pass for people who’ve been here all along.

They come across something weird.

It's an urban legend fansite, sure, and neither of them is sure how they actually GOT to that page. But that picture is…

It’s a photo from the early 1970’s – discolored by age and grainy from being digitized. It’s off center, and crooked, and looks amateur, but there’s no reason to think it’s not real.

A photo of two men on a cliff, doing posing next to a pair of motorcycles.

Wearing full masks and armored bodysuits.

And captioned as the “first known photo of Kamen Riders 1 and 2 together.”

~ ~ ~

So. That’s not something they had either.

~ ~ ~

The pair who fought as Build and Cross-Z dig deeper. And as they get closer to the present, more and more warriors of justice fighting under the name (title?) of Kamen Rider show up.

There's a period after the early 1990’s where the records sort of stop, and no new heroes show up for a while, but around 2000 the Riders start appearing again.

Some of them are rumors, and urban legends, but others are definitely on record as being real.

And they keep reading, and the closer to the present the more familiar things get.

8 years ago - rumors of a Rider in black with a partner who didn't QUITE pass for human.

7 years ago - a high school that focused on space and science, with sightings of a Rider in silver.

Ryuuga has been to that school, and been rescued by the warriors in those blurry, hastily shot photos.

5 years ago - an archived site for a dance competition that turned into monster fights that turned into battles between members in armor that then stopped reporting, then followed by accounts of describe a city turned into a war zone.

That first armored rider helped get Sento to Ex-Aid’s world. To what might be THIS world.

Neither of them have wanted to talk about the nagging worry they've both had the past month, living here on this other earth.

3 years ago - a temple that has never gone out of their way to confirm the rumors of a Rider in black and orange, but has never gone out of their way to deny them, either.

The concern about what happened that brought them here, alive. What brought them here when neither expected to come out of that last battle with Evolt.

2 years ago - news footage and reports from this worlds Seito, about a digital viral outbreak and the Riders that fought it - and the press conference covering the aftermath, led by a doctor with a face that appears in two sets of memories in one persons head.

The fear that “they didn't get it right.”

7 months ago - News articles about a resurgence of the virus and a giant mechanical hand reaching to the sky.

That “maybe they didn't fix anything.”

7 months ago - terrified social media posts about another earth in the sky, one that had a jagged red scar.

That “maybe they just left home.”

7 months ago - still frames from amateur videos of two Riders fighting a gear themed enemy.

That “maybe they just took themselves out of the equation.”

7 months ago – two riders, a constant and an unknown,

That “maybe they left everything behind -

7 months ago - a rider in gold, with a name and reputation to put to the mask,

“- left everyONE behind -

7 months ago - and a rider in blue and red, never seen before or since.

“maybe everyone else is gone and the people here - these same-but-different people we know-but-don't - are just the alternate versions, not merged or remade or saved, but just preexisting familiar faces that will never, ever replace the ones that I just ran away from and left behind to d--”

And Sento didn't even know he was talking until he couldn't get the words out, until he was choking on fears and doubts and grief and guilt, and sobbing at things that were “all his-and-my fault and he-and-I did this and brought so, so much suffering and then just ran away and I didn’t even have the decency to remember-”

And Banjou grabs him, holding him close in almost a death grip to keep this stupid, egotistical, terrified genius from shaking himself to pieces - physical, mental, emotional, whatever. And he’s shaking too, because he hasn't wanted to think about these possibilities, either.

Hasn’t wanted to think about how maybe they messed up – that he's the one who messed it up, because if nothing else, the other him shows that black-hole bastards or no, he is consistently a muscle-headed fighter, and if anyone that was there that day screwed up the creation of a literal world it would be him…

So, he keeps saying quiet, ragged reassurances to his best friend - only friend now that the others are strangers again - both of them red-eyed and hoarse and SCARED, because they just. Don't know what really happened in and after that gap in reality where space and time and energy were colliding and tearing apart. And that not knowing, that's terrifying, for both of them but neither have dared bring it up for just this reason. It’s so, so terrifying to have so much information and yet still have nothing but questions.

He doesn’t say it, but he can see. It's awful for Banjou, the not knowing. But not understanding isn’t really NEW to him – confused has kind of been his default state since they met and he hasn’t hid that at all – but Sento? Kiryu Sento had really only existed for a year before they met at a factory and a fight, and been manipulated and lied to and trying to find himself and coming up with nothing. He made so much of his identity out of his smarts and on Build and just kept hiding anything that didn’t fit the person he was or could have been or could be – that didn’t have a place in the puzzle of his past. He hid whatever he could fit behind the mask of a grinning nerd and the helmet of a warrior for love and peace.

Then they were thrown into war, and so, so many awful things had happened, and Banjou hadn’t said anything back home, hasn’t said anything here and still doesn’t, but he’d been seeing it for months. He’s seen his friend shouldering worry and stress and doubt until he broke and then hid that behind the same smile and behind his work and the fighting. The war dragged and grew and got worse and more personal and Sento had just kept taking it on himself and bearing it and breaking and kept going anyway.

This is definitely not the time for that talk. It’s even less time for anyone to bring up that half of those fights… that both of them kept going in with no plans for making it out after.

It’s not the time for that, but they’re at a park, the one they stayed in last night, and they should probably find somewhere else for this because they’re two sobbing wrecks who can’t explain this to anyone else. They can barely explain it to themselves.

“We're out of our element here, aren’t we? Listen, man, you can't lose yourself to this, okay? Who else'll be the brains of this outfit? Pretty sure we’re both screwed if it's me.”

He chuckles, half-hearted and hoarse and so, so tired. Looks like he’ll have to take the lead for a while.

“This is messed up. I know. So just… take your time and breath, okay? When you’re ready, we can go and… I dunno, find some of these other Riders, maybe? And we can try to get some answers.

“Just don't GO, okay? We're in this together, Sento, we have to stick together.

“We're all we've got."

#Kamen Rider Build #so it looks like i'm an asshole #because i want to write fix fic #but this came into my head instead #i was supposed to be working but it was a slow day #which is for the best because i was crying writing the first draft #i want to be nice to the boys but they won't let me #i want to help them really #but so much has changed for them #and it can't go back #i want them to be happy but i can't get them there yet #where did they wind up #that's the real problem #i will ride this inspiration train until it runs out of track

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angelicspaceprince · 6 years

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Summer Lovin’ (Part 1)

Author: Anna

Title: Summer Lovin' (Part 1)

Pairing: Gabriel/Reader

Character/s: Gabriel, Castiel, Lucifer, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Balthazar, Crowley, Michael, Charlie, others I can't remember.

Word Count: 3, 634 words

Warnings/Tags: Teacher!Gabriel, History Teacher!Reader, overseas trips, having a crus on our man, lead up to smut, angst and goodness

Summary: You had no idea how this happened. Well, that was a lie. You knew exactly how this happened. Those stupid golden eyes and ridiculously sexy smirk somehow managed to throw you off course every time they were in your vercinity. You had no idea how you were going to handle spending two months taking care of an entire grade of students as you travelled around Europe...especially when Gabriel was going to be with you every step of the way.

Notes: Just discovered the @gabriel-monthly-challenge blog and saw their prompt for this month being high school AU and decided, yes, Gabriel as a high school teacher being the little shit we know and love. So, here we are! I'm about to go on placement so either there will be a TON of more writing that may or may not be. (Was originally going to be one large fic but had to break it down, I start placement NEXT WEEK so I'll prbably finish this series then plus all my others that are overdue to be finished)

Tags: oddone92. elyshakate. authoressskr. thewhiterabbit42, gabriel-monthly-challenge, saintbartine, ever-faithful-sidekick, saltvattenshar, diehadess, mega-supernatural-writings, shanghai88, sassysousa, micas-dont-like-rain, randomlonelytorment, oldparchmentandcoffee, ihopehellhaswi-fi. gabrieltrash, thoughtfullyoptimisticgalaxy, djpaige13paige, letsfeerintheheadlightsuniverse, taylorchwan, pizzafromhell, tuesdays-suck-for-tuesdays, archangelsanonymous

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Summer Lovin' (Part 1)

You have no idea how this happened.

Well, that was a lie. You know exactly how this happened.

Those freaking golden eyes and that ridiculously sexy smirk.

Mr Gabriel “call me Gabe” Shurley was the religion teacher at your new school. An elite school for the rich that made you feel incredibly small and insignificant when you first approached it looking for work.

You'd just moved from your old home to here, looking to get away from a nosey family and old boyfriends, and you were extremely lucky in the sense that the old history teacher has decided to retire, leaving a place for you to slip right in to take over.

You were fairly easy going and it took a lot to fluster you. But somehow that religion teacher always managed to make your brain short circuit and cheeks flush a deep red.

You didn't even hear what he said, just agreed to it when you realised he asked you a question and wasn't telling you a story. When a bemused Sam Winchester - science teacher who, as you had figured out during your third day here, every female and a few male students either had or had had a crush on him and was (as your class put it) “super cool” - came up and gently explained what you signed up for.

A six-week long school trip around Europe.

Okay, a) what sort of school has a grade-wide trip to Europe to help with their studies and b) how did you not realise that's what he was asking?

You, as a general rule, avoided day excursions like the plague. The paperwork alone was enough to invoke anxiety, but with the added stress of being the sole responsible adult for 23 kids was enough to set you off.

You didn't know if you could handle a two-month trip, responsible for an entire grade. The planning alone was enough to cause you to freak out. You should pull out, you still could. Hell, Mr Gabriel ‘Call Me Gabe’ Shurley had come up no more than six times to ask you if you wanted to withdraw.

But you couldn’t say no to him.

At least there were going to be other teachers attending, thank God. The school had decided that for a grade of a hundred and five that eight teachers and two aides for the kids who required one-on-one support would be sufficient. And, to make matters somewhat more bearable, the other teachers and aides being sent you were, at the very least, on good terms with. When Sam told you that Zachariah (not Zach. Never Zach) never came along on school trips, you swore if God Himself appeared before you, you would have kissed him in relief. Creepy Zach and Lilith, who were the two major staffing members that you had real issues with, weren’t even invited according to your reliable source. The staff that was coming, you felt comfortable with and were class favourites.

Sam was coming, obviously, and so was his brother Dean, the PE teacher. Both of the Winchester brothers were nice enough, Dean was flirty and always insisted on wearing these tiny, red shorts during PE sessions, Sam assured you that they weren’t coming on the trip, he was making sure of it.

Then there was the Maths and Art teacher, Crowley MacLeod. The snark sessions the two of you shared left most of the staff room amused, and you enjoyed the banter the two of you had on a regular basis. You were still pretty confused as to how he could have two completely opposing subjects as his classes, but he seemed to make it work. Took no shit from anyone and, quite often, would sass his students (or anyone, really) just for being in the room.

You loved it.

The drama teacher was also an amazing person, although you didn’t believe his name at first. Who on Earth calls their son Lucifer?

Lu, as he allows you and a select few call him, was also incredibly sarcastic. Must come with the job description for the teachers in this school, including ridiculously good looking, honestly. Were they running a school or a runway?

Doesn’t matter, that’s beside the point. Lu had a flair for the dramatic, both in the theatre and out of it. So it made sense to you that he took up drama, although his teaching style could be rather...well, simple. On several occasions, the kids had told you that he played drama games every so often but for the most part he’d tell them to write a play to perform in x amount of weeks.

I mean, if it fits the modules he had been given then you guess it’s okay? You could never imagine doing that, however, you had to have everything planned to the minute’s detail, including plans A-Z in case anything happened that caused you to go off track.

Then you have Castiel, the English teacher. Possibly the most amusing person you had met. Most things just flew over his head, but the few things that he actually questioned always cracked you up. He was possibly your favourite teacher to approach for serious concerns and philosophical discussions, always having the time to chat. Quite often, the two of you would start a conversation about school or marking, him answering any and all questions you had, and it would quickly turn into a discussion or debate about some topical issue. It was amazing.

Then there was Balthazar. When God created the word Man-Whore, he had Balthazar in mind. His shirts were always plunging and awfully tight, and every Monday morning he’d walk in and loudly proclaim his weekend activities, or as he liked to call it, his conquests. Teaching Food and Bev as well as French, you were pretty sure he embodied the phrase ‘well, it’s four pm somewhere’. Kids loved him, he always had some story to tell and, for the older ones, stories involving alcohol were a fan favourite.

The music teacher was another friend that you actually started spending time with outside of school. Marie, the tall brunette that was kind, wise but with an evil streak. From the moment that you first met Mr Gabriel “Call Me Gabe” Shurley, she was determined to set the two of you up, which led to a lot of awkward moments. I mean, the moment he’s in the room, all rational thought is out the window. Scratch that. All thought it out the window. You were pretty sure Marie got some form of derived pleasure out of this. And you highly doubt that she was going to behave over the two-month trip.

Finally, you have your two aides for Crispin and Louise, your friendly neighbourhood geek and lesbian, Charlie, and possibly one of the most serious men you’ve ever met, Michael. Charlie was amazing, a people’s person and genuinely funny. The two of you would talk about your favourite shows and movies before and after classes, and would often come up with new and creative ways to encourage Crispin with his work. Michael, on the other hand, was completely opposite.

The relationship you had was strictly professional, and you often didn’t know what to say to him outside of school work. He was very focused and was amazing for Louise, patient and kind to the girl with so many questions as she signed them out. You had put in a few things to help with Louise, but for the most part, she just needed a translator and occasional assistance with understanding school work. He made sure to remind you for subtitles on all YouTube videos or movies shown, even though you made a point not to forget without his reminders. The texts he sent you were short and sweet and were always to remind you of things you needed to bring in for Louise’s dyslexia.

So, he was an amazing guy. Just a polar opposite to Charlie.

All in all, you knew the trip was going to be a great one. Even as you stand, practically comatose, with your steaming coffee warming your hands as you all do a final headcount at the airport. Parents either respecting their kids and not making a big deal over them leaving the country for what would most likely feel like an eternity, and others full on embarrassing them as they blubber and sob as their babies make their first step to exploring the world (somewhat) alone.

Who decided that you were all going to fly out before the sun had even risen? To meet up at the airport at four in the morning was a feat you weren’t sure you were going to be able to succeed in but, miraculously, here you were, rather than in the comfort of your warm, soft bed.

Gabriel was, of course, a morning person. Already up and running at a speed you didn’t think you could ever match as he was excitedly chatting away and reassuring parents and students, making final checks and rushing around the airport to make sure that everything was in order. So far, when any of the members of the faculty came up to greet you, they got a grunt.

Simply too early for you.

Marie, as it would appear, was in the same boat as you, standing next to you as the two of you silently count and recount the students as Gabriel does the final lot of announcements about how the lot of you were going to travel. Travelling with a hundred and five students was going to be a challenge, so having groups of students that each teacher and/or aide was responsible for seemed logical, after all, it’s easier to look after nine-point-five students then it was all of them at once. The ten you were responsible for were the easy ones, thank God. Any other time you’d have the brain capacity to take care of the difficult students but today was not that day.

Marie bumps you slightly as you take a sip of the ambrosia that is your coffee. “What seat are you in again?”

“1B?” You confirm, looking down at your ticket. You see a faint smirk in the corner of your eye as Marie moves to take a mouthful of her drink, no doubt to hide the fact that she knew something you didn’t. “Marie? What’s going on? Why did you want to know?” She shrugs.

“Curiosity.” She replies sweetly before moving to stop an argument between two boys before it got physical. You had a funny feeling, but that could be from the lack of sleep. But the almost sinister look Dean was sending your way made you think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t that.

Final goodbyes were said and the boarding of the students commenced as the eleven of you tried to get them to board in an orderly manner. An impossible task, but somehow you managed.

You were seated with Jordan next to you, a quiet boy who, immediately after sitting down, pulled out his book and started to read. You liked Jordan, very brainy and never really was a bother. Relieved that you wouldn’t have to deal with one of the more hands-on kids directly next to you, you settled, pulling out your own book to read once take off commenced. Usually, you’d listen to music but you didn’t think that would be a great idea this time around.

“Hey there, neighbour.” A cheerful voice states as a weight plonks down in 1C. When you turn, your stomach does a turn, cheeks instantly flushing red and burning your skin. Golden eyes meant one person. Gabriel.

Shit.

Ten and a half hours next to the one person you couldn’t properly talk to.

“Hey.” You finally managed to not-quite blurt out with a tense smile. “Kids ready?”

“Yeah, just.” He agrees. “You ready for this?”

“Once I fully wake up.” You can feel yourself trying to be somewhat normal, but your voice has somehow gone back to how it was when you were fourteen, something that caused embarrassment to eat away at your very core.

“If you need a nap, I don’t mind being your pillow.” He winks your way, clearly enjoying how you somehow managed to get more blood into your face.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You state somewhat sharply as you open your book and attempt to read, the words not quite making their way into your brain, signalling the conversation was over.

Wait a minute.

Wasn’t it Dean who booked the plane tickets?

~~~

When, and how, you fell asleep was news to you, but all you could think of now was the ridiculously warm and soft pillow you were leaning on. And occasionally moving.

It was annoying, causing you to grumble and shift slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable. A quiet voice asking ‘sir’ with a low ‘shhhh’ in response quickly made you realise two things.

A), there was no pillow and B) if there was no pillow, that meant there were two possibilities as to whom you were leaning against.

Sitting up quickly, rubbing your eyes and the slight drool that dampened the corner of your face, you were completely mortified when you realised you had been sleeping and drooling, on your crush, who saw nothing of it.

“Morning, sweets!” He exclaims cheerfully as the student - Olivia - walks away, clearly, her question answered. “Sleep well?”

“I’m so sorry.” You start, ready to jump into a full-blown apology when he simply shrugs you off.

“Don’t apologise, I’ve been told that I’m a fantastic pillow.” He grins brightly as your brain fog begins to, yet again, settle down causing your brain to slow, the bright smile he sent your way causing it to jar suddenly. For fuck’s sake. “Not a morning person?”

“Not much of a person in general, if I’m honest.” You hear the words tumble out of your mouth as you move to sit more comfortable, grimacing at the crick in your neck. You can see his face twist in amusement, trying to hold back a small amount of laughter from bubbling forth. “Where’s the coffee? Actually no, where are we?” You correct yourself as he opens his mouth to answer.

A small paper cup filled with glorious brown liquid appears in front of you. “You missed her by about two minutes, so I grabbed you a cup.” The sip you took felt heavenly as warmth filled your system and you began to slowly pull out of the fog and the wrench in the gears of your brain started to shift slowly. “You slept for about eight hours, we have another hour and a bit to go.” You groan. “What? Is sitting next to Jordan that bad?” You quickly swivel to make sure Jordan isn’t offended but, thankfully, he’s fast asleep. He’s a little bit sensitive, that boy.

“No, not a fan of flying.” You admit. “If God wanted us to fly, He would have given us wings.” You quote your mother. Gabriel starts to laugh, obviously trying to keep the volume low so not to wake up the surrounding sleeping students.

“You sound like Dean.” He lifts his head to look behind the two of you, you follow suit. Sure enough, there was a pale, with an almost green tinge, Dean Winchester, gripping onto his chair for dear life as Sam continues to obviously enjoy his misfortune and tease the shit outta him. “He hates flying.”

“Then why do the trip?” You ask him quietly, smiling reassuringly when Dean’s eyes flicker to yours for a second.

“To get some of, and I quote, hot European ass.” You roll your eyes as you turn back, leaving Dean to his misery.

“In that case then, Dean can suffer.” As you move to drink more of your coffee, you feel Gabriel’s laughter next to you.

You really liked his laugh.

~~~

The rest of the hour flew by quickly, sleepy but excited students slowly waking up as the plane prepares for landing, chatter slowly filling up the cabin as you help calm nervous students and stop the overexcited ones from freaking out the rest. In between all of that, you managed to somehow, miraculously, have a semi-normal conversation with Gabriel, find Marie to basically just slap the upside of her head as clearly, she knew the torment that awaited you when you first boarded the plane, and finish the last two chapters of your book. The moment you were on land again, you could have jumped for joy. Dean all but fell down the stairs his legs were so shaky from the ride, and you were certain his voice was about two octaves higher than usual.

Student check and baggage claim happened relatively quickly...well, slightly quicker than you expected for a group of over a hundred. You managed to track down Dean to check up on him as your kids were getting their bags, and although his voice hadn’t quite returned to its normal deep pitch, he didn’t look as green as he did when he left the stairs.

He was, however, strangely interested in how your flight was, and surprisingly disappointed when you informed him you spent most of it sleeping and the rest dealing with the kids. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were adults, you would have suspected something was up.

Herding tired and excited kids into a bus at 7:30 at night was a little disorientating (read: super fucking hard) when you were still running at your home state’s time of 2:30 in the afternoon, your mind confused at why it was suddenly going dark, but you managed. Thankfully, the bus driver who addressed everyone as ‘flower’ did a pit stop at McDonald's so the kids had something to eat before checking them into their rooms for the night, having a meeting with the head of their group before lights out. Gabriel had run ahead to check him in, so you grabbed him something to make sure he ate, which allowed Marie to basically take the piss out of you as you two waited for the others to finish.

Finally, you were at the hotel. Your heavy eyelids wanted to cover your lead-like eyes, but your jobs weren’t done. You had to hold a meeting with your group of students to remind them of the rules (no fooling around, lights out at 10pm, breakfast at 7am and to be ready for departure at 9am, unless otherwise specified, no sneaking out, no alcohol, no drugs and, if you really must leave your room, make sure to inform a teacher and take a buddy, no we don’t care that you are 18 we are responsible for you, therefore, you will do as we say) and get them ready for the next day, which was going to be an easy one. Visit Westminster and possibly do a bit of exploring.

The nine you had were easy, and you had the added extra help of Charlie as Crispin was in your group, alongside Victoria, Lucas, Ursula, Joel, Ryan, Elizabeth, Jane and Angela, meant that you were sure you were going to have it easy. Sure, Lucas and Joel together was often a recipe for trouble but the two of them never caused you any grief and Victoria was upset that her boyfriend was in another group but she would be fine once they all figured out that these mini-groups were just to check to see if everyone was present and to give them the run down of the next days events.

After explaining this to them, they all seemed settled that they were, in fact, going to be able to hang out with their friends. The meeting itself lasted only ten minutes, located in the boy's room before you left them all to get ready for bed, having shown the girls to their room as you walked down to your room.

You already knew that you were going to have to share with another teacher. The groups had to share rooms in their gender and so did teachers, mostly due to room restrictions and to be fair on students.

You had no idea who you’d been paired with, but Marie had assured you that she had put in a word so you wouldn’t have to deal with the snorers (the Winchester bros) or the extremely fussy ones (Castiel and Michael), especially as you would have to stay with them for the duration of the trip.

Secretly, you were hoping for Marie, who was hoping for Dean, or Charlie, who was hoping for Marie. That was a Shakespearean love story right there.

So, when you opened your door and no one was present, you assumed whoever you were staying with hadn’t finished their meeting, so you move to claim the bed closest to the window, hoping to be more or less in bed within the next ten minutes.

Teeth brushed, PJs on, book out, you were more or less ready for bed and just waiting for the other teacher to rock up. It wasn’t until another twenty minutes had passed that the door was finally slammed open.

Oh no.

You can’t be serious.

You don’t know if your heart, mind, body and soul could take this.

“Hiya sweets!”

It was going to be a long trip.

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gdiblake · 3 years

Text

The Princesses in the Tower - Chapter 3, Part 2 - Zita [Maledom] [Male supremacy] [BDSM] [Humiliation] [Masturbation]

Zita

Be a foal.

Now be a kitten.

Or perhaps a puppy.

Stepping on the floor of the BDSM playground means to replay times of childhood when we run wild with the revolving door of roles.

Let’s play...

Some of us will never grow out of it. If we are bigger, we just sew larger-sized costumes. In the bedroom, we are the same playful monkeys. We can´t stimulate ourselves by the actual ray guns, functional magic and none of us has superpowers either. They are not necessary. Nerve endings plus fantasy, that will take us away from vanilla Earth to infinity.

I´ve met Anthony at the con. The brawniest audience member in the video games corner, he impressed me with his partial Latino heritage and that he called his father Dr. Robotnik. I´ve told him about my daydreams rich on surrender, on powerlessness, on strange, frequently otherworldly settings. We did not start right away, had dating in nature and the city like most people. We used not signing our hearts A+Z, but A-Z. However, hearts are hearts, so we knew the time is right. I lied to my folks when I said Anthony isn´t alone when I went to his place and the non-video games begun.

I was playing the elite agent in the interrogation room, but instead of Guantanamo Bay methods, Anthony was applying wooden clothespins. Other times I was an ambassador on the alien world and chains were part of the diplomacy. Lying to parents is bad, so the demon blindfolded me and dropped the wax everywhere he could. I´ve been imagining the scenario on the home base - The Postapocalyptica Hardcore.

Before starships of A-Z reached this home base, Anthony went to Monster Truck Show while I was out of town and fed hot dogs to the sexier girl. Elementary, dear Woodroof.

Four relationships of various depth, out of which two times I found a natural dom once more, never went to anything edgier than light bondage.

Perhaps because of being scorned, I wasn´t considering the drill of the full-time sub under the new boyfriend.

Who said the boy must be friendly?

The Art of Holy Submission can´t work as a short lesson, the dungeon should digest you and the guys delivered. We are sleeping in cages, which is fucking awesome! To make matters better, the cages aren´t static. They once pulled me down into a pit with a strong lion roaring, his nutritious meat nowhere, except under the skin of a seventeen-year-old virgin. Not so dumb to think they will feed me to him, I courted the kingly beast.

I whispered: "Come to me, the gorgeous guy. I wish I could be your mate."

Here the animalization of women works for both parties!

"The newspaper is on the shoe cabinet, Zora. I want it within a minute."

Malcolm is using the pet name, the nick of my "latex canine". I ran on all four through the lounge, limbs rub the carpet by the representations of the dog legs, my face is not seen in the mask with the open snout. I was looping between slave girls, some begging with paws to master guests, one or two breathing intermittently out of things one to their breasts. Catching sight of the newspaper made me hungry for fresh events far from our walls and ground. Alas, the date was from Monday of the starting week...We arrived on Wednesday. The copy got old on Tuesday. Dummy newspaper for a dummy dog.

That was the trickiest part, to position the newspaper to hold it tight in the snout. Not that wouldn´t enjoy Malcolm´s retribution, it softens my resilience as well.

Thanks to the newspaper, people get out of my way and I was in smaller danger of being kicked. I´ve put it to Malcolm´s feet in time.

"Woof!"

Putting the insensitive rubber ear, he flattered me.

"The dog face is handier on you, Zora...."

He has to remember the last dog play lesson, us chasing "fully" human slave girls, teeth snapping. I´ve ended up biting Lydia.

"Do a more woofing. I won´t demand anything else. Lady Georgianna will order something exacting."

I never sensed the radiant authority around Georgianna, the halo inherent to Malcolm and Weatherby. The reason for the difference was traumatizing.

Guests grudgingly left the lounge and the doggie parts were collected by the only leading master. Slave girls of all ages were waiting for the Mistress, not on the knees, as they usually greeted Malcolm, but in a neutral lotus seat.

High-heeled shoes, pointy on two places, stayed recognizable on Georgianna, from the stockings up she sported a motley set. The boring office clothes didn´t go very well with the cap of the cleaning ladies... The cap that itself is seldom flattened by the crown.

She lazily lifted her leg in a clear sign, that nevertheless didn´t apply to everybody. The new posture was assumed by women in the corners, faces swollen by the slappings. The reprimanded ones bend backward and spread asscheeks by hands as they could. Georgianna never hesitated, kicking them right in the center. They squeaked, but made longer unpleasant mutterings as Lady rode the vamp of the shoe for them to smell and said: "Lick!"

When the victim didn´t stick out much of a tongue, she just made the mouth open by clenching the nose and she stuffed the shoe whole... In the middle of processing the seventh and final victim, she redirected their attention to all of us.

"I know we have no Homemaking, slaves, but you have been conceived for work and two libraries are in mess. Rejoice, torment will be multiplied for you!"

Let’s become broom and dustpan.

I wasn´t simulating loyalty and enjoyment in Holy Submission, it didn´t make an effort to deny Stockholm syndrome.

That´s not to say I´m getting myself off by grafting ... We had to plug our arms and legs into the leather sleeves with holders. In the Holy Submission library, we were issued attachable hooks, basic cleaning instruments, and spidery things for rags and sponges. Forbidden to remove was muzzle with a toilet brush. All the holders must have been put to use. The result hadn´t much in common with the monotony of drudgery. I believed Georgianna was in the temptation to send some random underling for popcorn. Claiming extended legs ridiculed us would be an understatement. Mistress relished comical figures skating at our expanse. I did practice the art of work lying down, enabled by a suitable combination. The easiest part was polishing the toilet bowl. Surprising, how can your head end up there semi-voluntarily.

The task I wished I could be knocked out of? Cleaning picture of Anne, the classic author, from the stepladder. Sleeves laid unbuckled in section unmissed.

As an underage, I have been visiting The Central Library on regular basis. I didn´t register the dust or litter there and the study conditions remained optimal.

Oh yes, here is the spot where I pushed the bullshit out. As a woman, I have the most precious part of myself hidden in a set of my organs, designed to cultivate life. I am forever defined by the internal, not by the external.

Good start, fortunately, Weatherby didn´t give me a higher than B... The next paper presentations are titled "Gender equality and The Female independence - Dispensing with the myths".

Georgianna pushed us to the table, every millimeter covered by the short columns of thick books.

"Slaves, just like the cleaning ladies, the librarians used their right to transfer their nearest task on you. The four free computers are in a secondary study room... You have the cataloging manual printed there."

In the Roman Empire, actual slaves served in the public libraries. Fetishism continues on the traditions of antiquity.

Items were suggesting the implementation of new courses, oriented mainly on language skills. We have filed French, Danish, and Dutch dictionaries, then textbooks full of exercises. A few brochures about life in the countries of the tongue. Do the math, Zita. We are going to be shipped off across the continents.

Mistress thought it distracts us and ordained submission training to the fours, who completed the job. She put three books on my head and six on each palm. I´m holding them, excruciated by standing on my toes. Julie collapsed under her pile and wasn´t going to leave without long whacking. Riding crop is such an ironic implement of choice when you are told not to move, let alone ride.

Swinging, the experienced dominatrix could be proud of monumentality never achieved by Mary I. Tudor. If she were a master, I would batter the tomes from one of my sides - the compromise. It wouldn´t erase any words in Hoe zeg je to help the girl find a way to the Coffee shop.

I liked a little shopping, not to mention traveling abroad. I have to make up for homebody years, interrupted by some Italian vacations and one excursion tour to Prague, preserving the vain hope we will afford a trip to an unreachable Hawaii one day. Wow, this... The next year´s summer my possibilities are going to be vast. Choices? That was a different tale altogether. The dichotomy in the future of the person, who becomes the subject of the transaction.

A Flash of loathing blinded me when Georgianna lightened me of the loads. I despised her role!

"Empty books racks stand where we started. Line up the new pieces, they have serial numbers, and you are free to sport.

I´m free to imagining groin attacks…"

I´ll be damned and I must salute her. Something was telling me Mistress fantasies are not about hurting twats. While not a Princess, she is one of us. Newly lustful for the infodumps pulsing in my head since I saw Malcolm´s newspaper, I did a negligible job and approached Georgianna. Confused, how to address her after the lesson, I began by: "Lady..."

"Lady McLeaf, girl."

"Lady, McLeaf... Is there an... An influx of European takers?"

"There´s an influx of European citizens, girl. FPA stretches the wings alongside two oceans."

I was playing dumb, I remembered my Geography. I wiped a tear out of the dry eye.

"I know... Nothing! By the time my auction comes to pass, the rich Azerbaijani might participate!"

Xenophobia tingles your emotions enough to bring about a charged moment.

"Lady McLeaf, we are left... To speculate! Secrecy is feeding inmates with uncertainty or false hope. Please, tell me about more important happenings!

Come on, Georgianna, don´t be stupid! Scorn me, but do it unnoticed!

She got the scorning part.

"Girl, do you trust even opening song in the news? I never did. If you think you should know more and gossip, go to hell. If you think I don´t like this job, you´ve hit the nail on the head, but I´ll not put it in danger!"

I smell the poopies, chicken.

"Mercy, I beg you, Lady McLeaf!"

Georgianna narrowed her eyes and exhaled.

"Principal recently affirmed the news are not allowed. Some co-lectors were suggesting stress-reducing entertainment. It would have to be organized by inmates themselves and the content would be examined beforehand. Think about it!"

"Jump!"

Zita, who boarded the bus would crawl on the plank over the pool and staggering from vertigo, she would walk backward like a crab.

Me? I have used the legs to pull headlong, synchronized as one of the swimmers in an azure bikini. The impact made so many bubbles, I saw myself in champagne. I got sober to cover the pool´s length fifteen times.

"Don´t disgrace us, slut, you have both legs in order!" such half-serious insults are common, although one suspects if that banter isn´t a way of venting one´s opinion about sleepy co-lector Ekström of thunderous voice when she needed it, seated on the stair.

The first eight pools are like one go to me, during the ninth the simple line is no longer the intelligible direction. The spirit could yoke me again if it had somebody´s voice as a ship pilot. Thankfully, we haven´t been separated physically and Lydia swam to the same edge.

"Darling, how do the bookworms not drown, when their cerebral tissue is so heavy?"

"Science created Apollo 11. So intelligence beats gravity. And do you know this one? Karl Marx dies and they don´t want him in Heaven..."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen! Ekström whistled loudly and we are leaving the pool.

"Half an hour pause", bellowed co-lector.

Lydia followed me to the bench. I shared there the bath towel with Barbara. Her arms were almost normal and her belly was getting flatter every week. Before one History lesson, Julie complimented her on a change and Barbara tried to eat half of my lunch too. She wasn´t happy with how things progressed today either.

"Most teachers are fuckers and think of us as their puppets."

"McLeaf and Ekström are at least not patronizing as those old bats in the kitchen", said Lydia.

"I suppose you wish they were vampires.", I glossed up.

"Nah, I banished them to girl-unaware-of-real-troubles land." She grabbed a towel of her own and pensively was snooping around the more communicative ones.

CLINC!

When drying her black hair, the tallest underage, giraffe among our peers, several benches on the right, has lost something tiny but valuable for her. She flung herself to the ground, on the spot the sound came from, and got back on her feet in a heartbeat, victoriously smiling above the mystery object regained. Then she walked away to the changing and equipment area.

"She´s odd", I mused. "She never talked to me and that wriggling of hers, unspanked mind you... She has some permanent cannabis in her blood. Terra, isn´t she called?"

"Montserrat Gutiérrez", said Lydia. "Secretive one. Recites poems beautifully and likes sport encyclopediae. One other underage in her room, Sharona. That´s the extent of my intel."

Never before was Barbara the most intrigued one of us.

"I will go after her... Did she found a way of doing something fishy? Maybe the rascality can be copycatted."

I kept looking back, feeling obligated to my roommate, as Lydia to me. All the while my guts warned me about the conclusions of Barbara´s. We could antagonize Montserrat or increase the unwanted attention. But the girls can blend with the shadows in the pause and judging by the door ajar, we will find the strange girl in the equipment room. Yes, I heard her there saying...

"No, Mr. Hockey, I don´t feel anything to Mr. Swimming, come to me!"

We saw what doorstop was blocking the entrance to fully close. no, this rascality is waaaay too personal.

I kicked the thrown-away chastity belt with the key inside, to one of the half-lit corners. The underage laid on the portable minigolf installation, crouched legs spread out widely. Pelvis slowly ascending, chest in tremor, hands busy with the curved part of the hockey stick, moving it in a way that ensured that the end, that was made for the hands, rammed into her pussy. She was letting the visitor know darker parts of the penis garage, moaning and talking to it.

"Mr. Hockey, you have a false reputation. OOOOOhhhh..... There is nothing cold about you. Hardness doesn´t prevent you from moving sensitively! Oh yes, your Montserrat is filthy adulteress, she could never have been happy with Mr. Swimming or Mr. Baseball, don´t ever leave her cave in the mountain..."

Her movements and moaning went hectic, she circled the stick clockwise and counter, concluding it in the sigh describable as "Ahuaheeeh" and the feet conjuring the rhythm on the floor. Stick she just untied. It had some wipes on the polluted part. Cleanly girl. Her head turned to the side, mouth open wide, she noticed us.

"Oh, Woodroof and Pignon, aren´t you?"

"And Butcher", said Lydia. "Get everything where it belongs."

"I haven´t broken any rules..."

"Yes, you did, by unlocking your chastity belt."

"Geez, smuggling the key was like David Copperfield mastery."

"Then begin to practice the Alcatraz act", I said.

Montserrat was receiving the belt from Lydia.

"How often do you think about running away? Do you have a well-secured somewhere to hide?"

"I meant from SHU... Montserrat, couldn´t you wait?"

The belt was locked up and the stick was indistinguishable from its kins in the storage.

"I am patient for the girl-on-girl night. Daily sport... Those are well-defined guys, numbered on their backs and the manliness is the firm currency."

Lydia was stunned.

"You have not a grain of shame!"

"It is a swap of favoritism. Girls act like I´m killing their grandmas, boys wish all girls would be like me. I was deflowered cuntly and assly on the fourteenth birthday, partners just as young. It takes some juice to galvanize Montserrat Gutiérrez from labia to tities."

Barbara was making a long face. Do I have to listen to her?

"You are..." I knew the right idiom. "Hot property. How many languages do you speak?"

"English, Spanish, Catalan, a little bit Portuguese."

A mere year older and she would be the privileged one.

"Did Clara like you?"

"She thought I´ll be a prodigy in Lovemaking. I said yes, I am looking forward to the lovers and she began listing, which positions..."

"Yes! Montserrat, I implore you. After the class, go to her and ask, how to work for her, or one of the lectors. As a bit of an asocial, she will easily believe that you are unhappy among your equals, and grooming you for participation is the plan since she learned about your libido. So far so good?"

Montserrat's eyes popped out.

"I suppose, if I don´t do that, the secret of the key in the hair is out."

"No, I don´t like the blackmail. That will happen only if you snitch on us. Don´t be a fink and open your pussytrap undisturbed. In a productive mood, supply the network."

"Munificent! When I will know, where we can discuss?"

"Start of the park road, the Saturday free time from 1 pm., would you come?"

"I can walk, Woodroof. And I can disappoint. Who do you think will make me a spy?"

Stacey ferrets around, tweaking leaves of the cherry tree. She masterly feigns fascination with the tiny fruit, ear pricked for automatic door. I and Barbara are waiting for our new friend, no cover-up.

My initiative left Stacey breathless. Well, she didn´t have to talk for the Morse fingering of the neverending Rummy.

"I can mentor her when the time comes. You are resourceful, Mata Hari, the strategist I have overlooked. Horny girl found another blind spot in the security, it would seem. God forbid Rosenstein employed such luck and talented double agent."

My answers are not yet fluent.

"Suffers here, can tell. Little embarrassment, but it´s there."

"I know you, Zita. You talk about spying, but I smell desire for getting closer to power."

I have defended myself and she wasn´t dwelling on it.

Montserrat came eleven minutes late. Slutty school uniform didn´t make her exterior more prude in the slightest.

She wasn´t corpse-pale, she didn´t come across as struck bimbo, she had an undeniable presence of mind. She just forgot to bring over the carefree attitude from the equipment room and greeted us with the middle finger. Barbara twisted the hand in response. I split them up and took them away. Stacey behind trees went to the same place by the detour. Women in school and homemaking uniforms sometimes complained about our impractical procession but stood aside as we needed.

Lydia was cooling off in the shadow of the platan with Julia. I am at loss. Should I talk about how she is appeasing her because of unnecessary guilt?

"Something went wrong", I clarified the cause of the coming quarrel.

"Clara saw through me! At the start, I mean. She asked nicely, whose idea was it, which smarty is looking for a way to eavesdrop on lectors! Then she asked less nicely. Woodroof, I got her only by tantrum, how nobody talks to me. She announced I have a new duty then. If I want to be useful so much, I have two weeks to compose some social project for the community. Thanks a lot!"

I am new to being a troublemaker. So I am not surprised to have been rescued and making trouble for somebody else. Becoming the debtor. Oh yes, visionary debtor!

"Must you do it alone, or can you have a team?"

"She didn´t say."

"Georgianna told me principal wouldn´t be against some entertainment. We can have a hobby and later the prestige. Something funny, cultural, artistic, here is room to purify the frowsty living here."

Montserrat cheered up

"I love art! And not just because it´s done by horny guys full of ideas!"

We have rerouted the discussion as I wished.

"What can we do?", speculated Julie. "Write a magazine?"

I doubted that.

"They permitted it, not caring enough to redirect the resources and not trusting enough to not worry about an encrypted text."

"We have one safe option," said Lydia. "To burrow one of the holocams and record some variety show. Affordable, presentable in the dining hall, and not hard to censor."

My head turned into our studio.

"I agree. I can write the scripts, Lydia too. Julie and Barbara can administer the technical stuff and you, Montserrat, have everything that the good host needs. Expressiveness and regime-friendly background."

"Author of the project is the front face, Woodroof, I have the unequivocal entitlement. You are sponging."

Acidity galore.

"Technical stuff? We are worse than amateurs!", said Barbara.

"Don´t tread on my future scripts!", I said.

"Girl, what´s this bird called?"

That was Stacey´s voice and code.

"I´m coming!"

Stacey was "accidentally" passing by amidst the foremost tree trunks of the alley directed to a fountain-centered crossroad.

"That is titmouse," I answered by the first bird species that wouldn´t sound generic.

"Fuck off from my blouse, titmouse!"

She got real and quiet the second she saw my puffed-out cheeks.

"That floozy is a lost cause. You were grasping at a straw, so it ripped. The idea about the show isn´t bad for her fix, but for us it is counterproductive. Thompson is under the watchful eye, Therese did the insanely stupid thing and I am welcoming everyone, who visits the gym. Our room is high-profile, off the charts, so to speak. If you and Barbara are going to run the enterprise, the radar won´t stop beeping. I will never be a spider on the web."

She is so snotty!

"Stacey, compare your plan with mine... You have stolen from them and the future depends on the contrivance you will go to an unmonitored zone in the time you are supposed to be in the room or in the best-case scenario here. I am going to ask them for their devices to use my talent and kiss their ass and thus acquiring celebrity status, soothing the inmates, and being one of few, who are allowed to have demands. Anyone can see, what is thought-out and what is a longshot."

Contrary to the stereotype, Stacey is a blonde capable of sensible dispute, rational deducing, and the assessment that is most likely to be the correct one. She is also proud, accepting the criticism conditionally.

"How about analyzing the plans from the outcomes? My plan is improbable to carry out? Well, I knew that from the get-go. I stick to my guts because I wanted to hear from one man, who will never lie to me. Your sycophantry will make them give you what they filter beforehand. Bones as a blow-out. I promise I won´t cripple you. I can see this activity as a backup solution while pondering faster, how to conceal my calls. Preferably not after your show starts..."

"Montserrat´s show."

"Serves you right, voyeur. My advice should be directed to you two, I suppose."

"They must authorize it first. I hope Barbara is wrong and we won´t pay for inexperience with cams."

"Why not find a skillful woman there too? Claudia told me one of her roommates, another privileged one, is borrowing cameras several times a week, she then edits video on computers of mainstream ed. section."

That didn´t sound like a run-of-the-mill slut.

"Her name?"

"Alice Kane. Nicole won´t say it in front of Claudia, but she is only of her room our Sky Queen tolerates."

I went back to the girls and proceeded with the new information. Alice Kane wasn´t in the park as the warden at the gate´s registration confirmed. She was in a phone-equipped office and they made her curious about the unknown underage interested in her.

"Who´s this? I don´t know you!

"Zita Woodroof, Ms. Kane. Send by Ms. Hamilton, the Mud Queen, a friend of Nicole"

"Mrs. Kane, little cousin of an unknown sister-in-law! What do you want?"

I have described the situation.

"Do you have a story for the show?"

"I thought it will be the jokes and coverage of some happenings in Tower."

"I am an artist slash graphic designer. I´m drawing and writing Uraneia comic book."

"Eh?"

"It is about space heroes mining the mystical energy of creation by fucking in zero-G and later in a vacuum. Their destiny: Ovum singularity."

Porn with the plot is the best one.

"I love comic books, Mrs. Kane.."

"Then you love the narration. I would record for you everything as a full-time cameraman and I would draw things day and night to the suspenseful plot. Stand up doesn´t make me move aside."

"Mrs. Kane! I can come up with a Fantasy story!"

"Zita, come up with a Fantasy story and you can call me Alice. To pass my test, you must have it in the park time tomorrow! "

I hang up the phone.

"Girls, we have to rehearse."

The sympathetic scrawny figure came to the park on Sunday afternoon, almost at the same time as us. We gathered in the remote park spot. Alice spaced out the holocams and we positioned ourselves in the center.

"Not so fast! Strip naked, I need anatomically exact layers to project the holocostumes."

"You will show us the final images!”

"That´s given, Julie! Come on, guys are not looking!"

We have stripped down, folded our uniforms, and put them on each other, only that could end up a little dirty was mine. The breeze blew lightly on me, it passed through the chastity belt and hair under my belly. Zita, you are too big to believe in invisible spirits... The alabaster figures revealed we had a motivation to not stall the recording. The despotic education is one thing and some of the parts achieved notoriety in any context, like Montserrat´s legs, but other inmates seeing Barbara exposing mighty boobs in a park could whisper about her practicing.

"Don´t say anything incriminating, girls. Action!

Alice pushed the main button on the controller.

I have commenced the introduction of heroines.

"I am Zeena, sister to the heir of Trojan kingdom and the mage in training. I fight the ignorance."

"Cut!

"I am Zeena, sister to the heir of Trojan kingdom and the mage in training. I fight the chaos and disorder that threatens the good inner workings of households in The Realm of the Ultimate Good. These are my comrades..."

"CUT!"

"These are my sworn sisters. Julie, the thief, menace of Atlanten library. Dhampir Lydia, known as the Butcher of dwarves. And Barbara, the warrior from the savage Rooster tribe, daughter of the battle bards, immune to the torture. Today we will tell you, how we busted the insidious succubus!"

A moment of silence.

"Woe betide the injured soldiers! My hospital is full of those, who fall asleep and never wake up. They can´t resume the fight against the forces of Werewolf Queen! I think she used some spell from her Grimoire of Beasts!"

Heroines discuss orders from the king. We go in circles for pictures to be edited into an epic journey. We emphasize the importance of rulers, soldiers, and our husbands, doing what is best for us. We reach the menhirs serving as a portal to the Dreamworld. Now we go all the way back, fighting nightmare creatures. In the hospital, we encounter succubus, played by Montserrat, who uses her unnatural powers to making us kissing each other. I recall the soldiers and kiss the succubus herself. By drooling over the mouth and both ears I cancel her magic and petrify her.

We had a long discussion about how to reform her in the end, so Mayson will approve and we won´t get a crucifying squad of inmates up to our asses. So, I wrote up a speech about disadvantaged birth that can be overrun by the correct life choices. Let people choose the preferred subtext. Succubus joins the team as a consolator of the sexually deprived ones.

Alice hasn´t intervened in this take. I pampered the idea she is admiring my tale, thinking it wouldn´t be out of place in her saga.

"Girls, the result will be on the Ed Woodish side, but I guarantee I will draw everything in a week. You are fun that will make up for it." Montserrat, fully dressed, did a high-spirited launching speech and we thanked Alice, glowing.

If nothing else, the next days are intoxicating, the commitment propelling us. Alice was hard on herself. The landscape and the menhirs turned out magnificent as did the Dreamworld, the hospital was serviceable and the clothes maybe lacked the details, but we wore as much virtual texture and armor as a medieval person realistically would. Georgianna came at my invitation to the park too. She should push through the thing she seeded the idea for.

"You have hit the jackpot! That´s what I call believable!", she said.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Now we´ll go to Mayson. "

Georgianna´s smile was sad.

"Girls, you are not at a good start. Rosenstein will be just satisfied, not involved. I can vouch for you and the privileged one is a part of your team, but I´m the least respected lector and the same can be said about Kane... To have solid ground, your request should be backed up by the third pillar. Very trustworthy co-lector."

Don´t show a hint of weakness!

I stepped farther from the other four.

"Lady McLeaf, send us to the First co-lector´s room!"

Alice grabbed her head.

“Hardened veterans of the sex industry live there. Privileged ones below the pig feces. They will degrade you and what I have managed. Go to anybody but Cabrera.”

People are impossible. For their haughtiness, they ignore the nuance. I took the holoset into my arms.

“I can always descend. Champions thrive for the top.”

Georgianna let wardens accompany me, Montserrat, and Alice. In the elevator, my knees started shaking. Couldn´t I´ve been praised for my choice? On the new corridor, I am hallucinating red light lamps.

The door is real.

Whores of Babylon. Five of the reprehensible ones.

Knock-knock.

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duhragonball · 5 years

Text

Dragon Ball Z Movie 3: Tree of Might

Movie time again. This time around it’s “Tree of Might”, which premiered on July 7, 1990, between Episodes 54 and 55 of the anime.

I feel like this is one of the more popular movies of the lot, but it’s never been high on my list. There is a lot to appreciate here, but there’s some things that bug me, and I guess they don’t bug anyone else quite as much. It’s definitely way better than “World’s Strongest”, so I don’t want to overstate my case here.

The movie opens with a space probe heading for Planet Earth. Pretty sure someone making this movie had just watched “The Empire Strikes Back.”

On Earth, Bulma, Krillin, Oolong, and Gohan are on a camping trip. Okay, so I guess there was at least one other meeting between Gohan and Oolong after Movie 2, and this was it. I’m curious to see if they ever interact in any later films, or the TV series.

Honestly, I’m not really sure why Oolong would be involved here. In the last movie, it made sense, because he was the only one who would drag Gohan out on a Dragon Ball hunt, which drove the whole plot. Here’s he’s just chilling out with the trio who went to Namek. He feels like an odd man out.

I feel like this movie is angling at being an epilogue to the Namek Saga, since it depicts everyone safe and sound on Earth. It doesn’t fit well with continuity, but the Namek Saga was still in progress when this movie came out, so I can’t blame the writers there. In any case, the implication is that Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan all got back to Earth, and the first thing they wanted to do together was spend some quality time with Oolong.

Anyway, Gohan’s mom made him pack a ton of stuff he probably wouldn’t need for a camping trip.

Nearby, that probe lands in the forest and the heat of the impact starts a fire! Ruh-roh!

Krillin wakes up to the smell of burning everything, and we see all the animals fleeing in terror, including this little dragon.

Krillin tells Gohan to use his ki to put out the flames.

While they do that, Gohan notices the dragon trapped under a... log? It looks more like a really long piece of rock, but I don’t know what you’d even call that. Gohan lifts it up and the dragon moves to safety.

Later, the fire’s out, but the forest is still ruined, and the gang feels sorry for all the homeless animals. I don’t know, maybe I’m jaded, but I always found it a little cloying how all the animals just stand around at the edge of the forest, looking all sad, like they’re neighbors or whatever. I don’t know what real deer do in a real forest fire. Maybe they just die, but I’m pretty sure the ones who don’t just keep running until they find somewhere else to live.

Then Krillin has a great idea...

Dragon Ball Z! Wow, this is a great idea, Krillin. This show kicks ass, but unfortunately they already made it, so it’s not really your idea, you know?

But seriously, Krilln plans to track down the Dragon Balls just so they can wish to have the forest restored. In lieu of the usual opening credits, we get this montage of the gang collecting the Dragon Balls. Here’s Gohan flying an aircraft. I’d ask why they thought this made sense, but they had Gohan fly an aircraft in the last movie, so whoever made Tree of Might can just claim that the precedent was already set.

Just a thought, but maybe the reason Gohan does all this zany stuff is because Chi-Chi makes him study too much. By that I mean, she wants him to become a scholar, but for some reason she made him read an entire pilot manual, just in case it ever came up in some entrance exam. We’ve seen how well Gohan absorbs information, so naturally he’d finish the book and want to try it out for himself. Chi-Chi probably made him read a book about lion taming, and then she wonders why Gohan ran off to join the circus.

Here’s a variation on the OP, only with a dinosaur chasing Gohan instead of Bulma. Gohan ought to be strong enough to kick that dinosaur’s ass, though.

For some reason, Tien and Chiaotzu happen to be jogging by while they’re at it. Small world, I guess.

And then Gohan shows up with the last ball. Good thing, too. The theme song was almost over.

And finally we get the title card. Granted, these trees in the background don’t look very mighty, but bear with us, we’re getting to that.

DRAGON DRAGON! ROCK THE DRAGON! DRAGON! BALL! Z!

DRAGON DRAGON! ROCK THE DRAGON! COME! COME GET ME!

The sight of Shenron panics that little dragon Gohan saved, and it tries to attack him? That seems like an unusual response. Gohan calls him “Haiya Dragon”, so I guess he named him off-screen?

In the English dub, the dragon was named “Icarus”, which I frankly prefer, because what kind of name is “Haiya Dragon” , anyway? That’d be like naming your son “Hello Human.”

Shenron flails his tail around, and maybe he was getting ready to slap some sense into Icarus, or maybe he didn’t even notice the guy. Anyway, Gohan holds Icarus back and makes their wish.

And the forest is saved! I assume the gang finished their camping trip and went home. All the animals return to their burrows and trees and bushes or whatever, and the probe robot crawls out of its crater. Wait, that can’t be good.

The probe sends signals back to a group of aliens. They confirm the presence of life signs on Earth, although no one can believe it, because they know the Saiyan Kakarot was sent to Earth, and he should have wiped out all of its life a long time ago.

Okay, but why did they bother sending the probe if they didn’t think there would be anything there worth finding? Well, anyway, the probe reports that Earthis a suitable environment for the Shinseijuu Tree, which is Japanese for “Divine Essence Tree” Tree. Um, I think the subtitles goofed a little. I’m just gonna call it the Tree of Might.

That reminds me, the actual title of this movie is Chikyū Marugoto Chōkessen, which means “A Super-decisive Battle for Earth.” It’s also been called “Super Battle In the World”, which sounds pretty dumb. For some reason, most of the movies have Japanese titles that absolutely refuse to indicate what they’re about. Literally every DBZ movie could have been called “A Super-decisive Battle for Earth.” Well, I guess Movie 6 was a battle for New Namek, but Meta-Cooler would have attacked Earth eventually.

Later, we find Goku and Gohan chillaxing in the oil drum they bathe in. Chi-Chi’s tending the fire that keeps the water hot. Does Chi-Chi bathe in this thing? She’d have to, right? I’m surprised that erotic DBZ fan artists haven’t jumped all over that concept. “Oh, now that the fire’s going and I’ve taken off my clothes, I can climb into this oil drum and take a bath! It’s a good think I live in the middle of nowhere, so no one can see my boobs!”

But then Icarus shows up and frightens Chi-Chi until Gohan explains who he is. Chi-Chi immediately takes a dislike to the creature, and I’m with her on this one. Icarus is a stand-up dude and all, but he looks kind of creepy. He’s supposed to be cute, but he ends up looking like one of those Precious Moments figurines.

Chi-Chi tells Gohan to take the dragon back where he came from. Goku tries to stick up for him, but she won’t hear of it.

Gohan shoves Icarus away, but let’s be real here, he could carry Icarus all the way back to his forest if he really wanted to.

Then Goku leads them both to this cave he fixed up as a hideout for Icarus. This seems pretty dumb. Goku tells him not to let Chi-Chi know about this, but how did Chi-Chi find out about Icarus in the first place? He followed Gohan to the house where she could see him.

But Icarus is grateful, and he licks Goku. See, Goku looks way, way cuter than Icarus. They really tried to hard with Icarus’ design.

Meanwhile, Yamcha’s cruising around in a car he bought with a 15-year loan, when suddenly he gets blasted out of the sky by...

... one of these assholes, I guess. If I understand correctly, they blasted a big crater in the ground so they could plant their Tree of Might seed, but I don’t really understand why they couldn’t just use a gardening spade.

Tell you what, let’s go over these guys names right now. The big red one in the center is Amond. The guy on the left is Daiz. He wears pink leg warmers.

The alien in the silver armor is Cacao. I think he’s a cyborg, but who cares? And the two little purple guys are Rasin and Lakasei. They’re all wearing Frieza Soldier gear, so does that mean they work for Frieza? Well, we’ll get to that.

The seed starts growing almost as soon as it hits the soil.

Meanwhile, the aliens’ mysterious leader notes that this was all made possible by Goku’s failure to destroy the planet’s population as he was supposed to do.

The Tree of Might is huge, to the point where its roots erupt underneath a whole city, which I’m pretty sure is miles away from the forest where it was planted.

In the forest, Icarus watches this enormous tree finish growing, and he knows things are looking bad.

Meanwhile, most of the major Dragon Ball characters have gotten together at Goku’s house. I’m not sure why. Also, they didn’t invite Launch, which is kind of bullshit.

Bulma gives Yamcha shit for buying such an expensive car, and accuses him of trying to impress girls. So yeah, about the continuity of this movie. These characters won’t be reunited on Planet Earth until Episode 120 of the TV series. By the time that happens, Gohan’s a few years older, and Goku’s learned to turn into a Super Saiyan, so this whole movie just doesn’t fit. Nevertheless, it seems to depict a possible scenario where the good guys managed to return safely from Namek and wish all their dead friends back to life. In other words, this is the first time Bulma and Yamcha are seen together again since his death in the Saiyans Saga, and what is she doing? Yeah.

Same, Tien, same. Chiaotzu’s not gonna let this stop him from enjoying free refreshments though.

Then Icarus shows up at the window, and Goku and Gohan get caught trying to keep him, but they miss the fact that Icarus came back to warn them about the Tree of Might. Too bad he can’t talk.

Fortunately, King Kai can talk, and he can communicate with Goku telepathically, and he warns him about the Tree of Might. Well, “warn” might not be the right word. According to King Kai, the Earth was doomed the moment the tree took root. It’s basically a parasite on a planetary scale. As it grows, it sucks the nutrients and life force from the host planet, reducing the whole world to a lifeless desert.

So where does something like the Tree of Might come from? King Kai says it was originally grown so that the gods could eat its fruit. That sounds halfway plausible, until you consider that a lot of the “gods” in this franchise aren’t nearly as awe-striking as the Tree of Might. It’s hard to imagine someone like Kami planting a tree like this, destroying a whole planet just to eat its fruit. King Kai literally cooks his own meals, and he seems to eat the same stuff as everyone else. King Yama has a tree in hell that bears fruit reserved specially for him, but it’s not nearly as big as this one. I could imagine Beerus snacking on fruit from a tree that kills whole planets, but he’ll settle for cup ramen. More importantly, Beerus and his ilk wouldn’t be introduced to the franchise for another 23 years.

I’m not sure what King Kai is trying to tell Goku. If it’s too late, why bother telling him about this at all? Is he trying to suggest that Goku should evacuate the planet?

Well, King Kai should know better, because Goku stone cold does not give a shit. As soon as he hears about this crisis, he immediately makes plans to go beat up a tree. His plan: Let’s all go shoot it with our best hand lasers. Diagnosis: Awesome.

Then they all put their hands together in a show of solidarity. It’s time to show that tree who’s boss! Look at Chiaotzu. He’s literally lying on top of the table just to reach the others.

Then Gohan tries to join in, because hell yeah. Gohan can help. He fires some really good hand lasers, especially for his age.

But his mommy said no, so he’s gotta stay home. Better luck next time, kid.

Krillin notes that his wish to restore the forest was a total waste, since this stupid Tree of Might wrecked it all over again. I think the whole point of that forest fire was just to give the characters a reason to use the Dragon Balls early, so that way they wouldn’t be able to wish their way out of this situation. I’m not sure Shenron could remove a tree this huge, but it’s a moot point now. The Dragon Balls won’t work again for another year.

So they shoot their finest energy blasts at the base of the tree, and it does nothing. Krillin suggests another try, but Yamcha points out that if they use too much power they could destroy the Earth instead.

Then these jerks show up. Okay, so this is one thing that’s always bugged me about this movie. From here on, much of the action takes place on the Tree of Might itself, so you end up with a lot of indistinct backgrounds which are probably meant to be super-giant tree bark. It just makes it hard to tell where anyone is in relation to anything else. What exactly are they sitting on here? Why does the Tree of Might have all these convenient ledges and horizontal surfaces for people to stand on?

Yamcha demands vengeance for his dearly departed car. Uh, yeah... Whatever gets you in the zone, buddy.

The boys square up for a fight. You know, I remember watching parts of this movie on Toonami back in 1999, and scenes like this, and Yamcha’s appearancs in the Frieza Saga, were really my first introduction to the character. What really stood out for me was that he looked almost exactly like Goku. Kind of like how Flash Thompson was a big fan of Spider-Man, and one time he dressed up as Spidey for a Halloween party, and the real Spider-Man had to trick Green Goblin into thinking that Flash was the real thing. It just really looks like Yamcha is this jock who decided to dress up like Goku because he loves Goku so much.

Anyway, these two guys do some dumb shit. I really hate Rasin and Lakasei. Just... everything about them sucks. They sound terrible in every dub, they look like inflamed hemorrhoids, and they do absolutely nothing to move the story forward.

Tien blinds them with the Solar Flare, and that’s about the only effective offense the Z-Figthers manage in this whole movie.

It’s really a shame, because this is one of the few movies that actually bothers to use Yamcha, Tien, an Chiaotzu, and they get jobbed out. Would it have been so bad to have Yamcha use his Spirit Ball on Cacao and actually hurt him? Krillin’s Kienzan is one of the more serious techniques in the series, so I might have been cool to actualy see him kill somebody with it. I’m pretty sure Chiaotzu has never won a fight in Dragon Ball up to this point. Would it have been so bad to just let him kill Rasin? But no.

I always wondered why they included Yamcha, Tien, and Chiaotzu in this particular movie, but now that I’m watching them in sequence with the anime, it makes some sense. Around this time, the TV series had just revealed that they were training with King Kai in the afterlife, and one could certainly speculate that they would get resurrected later on, and play a role in the final battle with Frieza and/or Vegeta. I think “Tree of Might” was trying to play along with that idea, except it never actually pays it off.

Chiaotzu is in trouble for a while, until Gohan suddenly shows up to help. Turns out Icarus managed to bring him to the forest where the battle was going on, so now he’s here to turn the tide. Or something.

This attracts the attention of the boss alien, who recognizes Gohan as a Saiyan.

So he goes out to meet the kid, and realizes that he must be Kakarot’s son. He introduces himself as Turles and...

Yeah, he looks like Goku. That’s the big twist.

Only it’s not much of a twist at all. Turles explains that it’s not even that big a deal that he and Goku look alike, since they’re both “disposable, lower-class warriors.” According to Turles, low-class Saiyans “only come in a few types.”

I’ve seen this line interpreted in many different ways. Some fans have suggested that the Saiyans cloned their low-class warriors. I think a lot of fans prefer the idea that Turles an Goku might be related somehow. Bardock and Goten’s close resemblance to Goku seems to support this. Hell, Gohan looks a lot like Goku if you don’t take the hair into account.

I think there’s always been a desire to make something more out of Turles than what the movie offers. The fact that he looks like an evil Goku is easily the most intriguing thing about the character, and this movie does absolutely nothing with it. Turles himself acts like it doesn’t matter, and Gohan is the only character who even seems to notice. So why did they bother making him look like Goku in the first place?

I feel like part of the idea here was to explore the idea of what Goku might have been like if he hadn’t hit his head and turned good. Turles could be a glimpse into what Kakarot might have done as a villain, although he’s so different from the real Goku that it doesn’t seem all that convincing. They could have made him look like another Saiyan, and it wouldn’t really affect anything.

Turles’ main personality trait is that he seems to want to recruit Gohan and Goku to his cause, saying that Saiyans should stick together. I’m not sure if he truly believes that, or if he just thinks that his gang could use a couple more Saiyan lackeys. He talks up the space pirate life as an endless romp around the universe, taking whatever he wants and enjoying food and drink as he pleases. Again, I don’t know if that’s a genuine sentiment, or if it’s just his recruitment pitch.

Piccolo shows up and tries to save Gohan, but Turles makes short work of him, and goes back to tormenting the kid.

Turns out he can make one of those fake moon things just like Vegeta.

He forces Gohan to look at it, and then he destroys it as soon as Gohan turns into a giant ape.

He says it’s because he doesn’t want to turn into a giant ape himself, but why wouldn’t he? Why did he turn Gohan into a giant ape? He doesn’t need any help to beat the Z-Fighters. Is he trying to prove a point? Gohan won’t even remember anything he did in ape form. Also, shouldn’t the transformation wear off once the fake moon is gone? Turles accounts for this by saying it’ll stick for a little while, even after the power ball is gone, but that doesn’t sound right. When Piccolo blew up the moon, Gohan changed back immediately.

For that matter, what good is the fake moon technique if it can be dispersed so easily? Krillin could have attacked it during the Goku/Vegeta fight instead of trying to cut off Vegeta’s tail.

So now Goku has to fight his own son in giant ape form. To the movie’s credit, this is a big highlight, because it’s the only DBZ movie to feature a giant ape transformation. And that’s all well and good, but it seems kind of empty to me because I have no idea why Turles set this up. Does he want Gohan to kill Goku? Is that supposed to make Gohan more eager to join him?

The fight ends up in a cavern, which I think turns out to be the same cave Goku used as a home for Icarus. That, or Icarus just happened to be here. Either way, just seeing Icarus calms Gohan down.

This is cute and all, but it seems odd that Oozaru Gohan would react so strongly to Icarus when he didn’t even recognize his own father.

Irritated, Turles tries to attack Icarus, which turns Gohan against him. Turles tries to kill Gohan with a laser donut...

But Goku cuts off Gohan’s tail before it can hit him, and he shrinks back to little kid size just in time to fall through the donut. I guess it’s lucky that Turles relies on donut-shaped attacks.

Turles then offers to spare Goku if he pledges to join him, but Goku refuses. He came her to whip a tree’s ass, and if Turles is pro-tree, then he can get wrecked along with it.

Then all of these creeps show up to fight Goku first. See, this is dumb. They not only made a clean sweep of Goku’s teammates, they didn’t even defeat them on screen!

Here’s a shot of Tien passing out from the hypothetical beating he took from Amond or some other guy.

Well, at least this sets up a cool scene where Goku has to fight them all by himself, right? Not really, Goku squashes them all in matter of seconds.

Meanwhile, Piccolo tries to take on Turles, but he’s just no match for him.

Boom, roasted.

I mean, why couldn’t Yamcha take this guy out? What was the point of having Yamcha in the movie if Goku was going to beat all the bad guys by himself?

With the rabble cleared away, Goku finally gets down to business. Turles panics when he sees how strong Goku is, so he runs away...

...and picks a piece of fruit from the Tree of Might. Why does he stick his tongue out to eat it? That just looks kind of weird.

Basically, the fruit of the Tree of Might ramps up a person’s battle power, which allows Turles to overpower Goku with ease. This is the core concept with Turles, I think. The challenge with this movie was to invent a new villain who could challenge Goku in the same manner as Vegeta and Frieza. Well, that’s a tall order, because Frieza was hyped as the strongest guy in the whole universe. A Saiyan villain would have made sense, except Vegeta was the strongest Saiyan, and the only one left. To introduce a new Saiyan, you’d have to explain why he’d be strong enough to rival Vegeta or Frieza.

The solution is the Tree of Might. I can’t find the line now, but there’s a part of the movie where Turles or one of his crew mention that the Tree of Might will make Turles strong enough to defeat Frieza. It’s pretty clear, then, that he’s a renegade from Frieza’s organization. They have their old uniforms, but instead of working for Frieza, they just roam the universe looking for places to plant their Tree of Might seeds. They grow a new tree, eat the fruit, get stronger, and then repeat the process. Turles started out as a weakling like Goku once was, but he found a way to cheat the system, and now he’s on his way to becoming the strongest in the universe.

Turles leaves Goku when he refuses to surrender, and then Goku’s friends speak to him telepathically. I’m not sure when they learned to do that, but whatever. They beg Goku to get up and try a Spirit Bomb, and Goku finally musters the strength to try it.

While he does that, the Z-Fighters assemble for one last stand against Turles. I guess this is supposed to buy time for Goku, but I’m not sure he needs it. Turles isn’t actually doing anything at the moment.

But it doesn’t work. The Spirit Bomb relies on borrowng life energy from everything on the planet, and that’s been drained away by the Tree of Might, so Turles thwarts Goku’s attack with ease. Oh, he also clobbered the Z-Fighters, so they’re down too. Triumphantly, Turles looks at his fruit crop. Where exactly is this that he’s standing right now?

But Goku isn’t beaten yet. He drags himself back into the fight, and confronts Turles one more time.

See, this time, Goku has a way to make the Spirit Bomb work. If all of the Earth’s energy is in the Tree of Might...

... then he’ll just draw the energy from the fruit instead of the planet, and make a Spirit Bomb from that.

There’s this tense standoff, and then they both attack each other in a single instant, and Goku’s Spirit Bomb wins out. I always have trouble remembering how this movie ends, and I think it’s because the climactic moment is so quick. I’m pretty sure they tried to imitate a gunfight from a western.

Turles gets consumed by the Spirit Bomb, and it drives him up through the trunk of the Tree of Might. Really, this makes a lot of sense as a finale. Turles’ trump card was to eat one piece of fruit from the tree, but Goku drew power from all of the fruit, so naturally his Spirit Bomb would be stronger than anything Turles could handle. And it’s an elegant solution to the problem posed by the tree. It was completely invulnerable to Goku’s own power, so he ended up using the Tree of Might’s own energy against itself.

All of this causes the Tree to glow yellow and disintigrate into sparkles of light, which rejuvenate all life on Earth.

So this dying deer is okay again, and presumably so is everything else.

Later, everyone celebrates with another camping trip. Launch got snubbed again.

Oolong tries to praise Icarus for his role in the battle, but Icarus nearly bites him.

And Piccolo sort of chills out by a waterfall somewhere, and that’s the end of the movie.

So it’s a pretty decent entry in the movie series, but I find it to be a mixed bag. The highlights are things that don’t quite get developed enough. Yeah, you have Turles, Great Ape Gohan, Yamcha, Tien, and Chiaotzu, but for my money, merely having those things in the movie isn’t enough. It’s what you do with them that counts. I find it particularly frustrating that the Dragon Ball Wiki has all this lore on Turles’ gang, but none of it ever made it into the movie itself, which is their only appearance. What’s the point in having a backstory for Daiz if it never comes up anywhere? His entire character arc was blowing up Yamcha’s car, and then getting decked by Goku.

Still, if you like Spirit Bombs, this is one of the best Spirit Bomb finishes ever. And the Tree of Might is a pretty cool idea. And the visuals are a big step up from World’s Strongest.

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