#which the assignments still show up for everyone and are marked overdue if you don’t do them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ambitionsource · 4 years

Photo

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Trapped” [ 2.06 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

NOWHERE TO HIDE – Forced together for a group assignment, a surprising collection of students find themselves locked in the school as a snowstorm hits Manhattan. Emotions bubble to the surface when there’s nowhere to run. Farkle makes an overdue apology. Lucas finally lets go.

55 Minutes (12.5K words) || CONTENT WARNING: discussions of death, mild suicidal ideation. Take care of yourselves and read with discretion.

[ ← How the Twinks Saved Christmas ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Contingency Plan → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Revolting Children” as performed by Matilda Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Maya Hart, Riley Matthews, Zay Babineaux, Farkle Minkus, Isadora De La Cruz, and Lucas James Friar

A spotlight beams into the camera, obscuring our vision until a shadowed, angled shot of MAYA HART belting out the opening note of this Broadway tune fills the screen. She carries us through until the rest of the ensemble joins in, each of the other performers spinning to face the front of the stage as the camera pans past them.

ZAY BABINEAUX, in a crop top and rehearsal sweats and looking somewhere between determined and irritated. RILEY MATTHEWS, sporting a new look with her hair cut just above her shoulders and doing her best to keep up with the divas -- mostly just not to add anymore hiccups to an already stressful performance.

FARKLE MINKUS, wearing the world’s frumpiest cardigan and looking worse for wear. His hair is an absolute flyaway mess, his clothes are wrinkled. He does the steps listlessly, going through the motions rather than putting any energy into it. ISADORA DE LA CRUZ, finally keeping up with her performing peers but aggravated from the general bad mojo of the group and hair pulled back out of her face with a dark scrunchie.

Then, yes, LUCAS FRIAR. Snapback on, brow furrowed, looking overwhelmed and confused as he attempts to sing and dance along with his classmates. Sticking out like a sore thumb, but in attendance and participating even though it goes against every fiber of his being.

It’s a wild sight to behold. The six of them don’t give a horrible rendition of the number, but it’s rough and unrehearsed. Everyone aside from Maya and Zay fumbles with the choreography -- or in the case of Lucas, drops the ball entirely. This lack of precision is what prompts the “Come on!” from Zay about 2 minutes in, an outburst of exasperation rather than a rallying cry.

When Isadora “takes out her hockey stick and uses it as a sword,” she grabs a prop and literally takes a swing at Lucas. He ducks just in time, giving her an incredulous scowl and holding out his arms in indignation as the song continues. Maya almost trips over Farkle when he takes too long to get to his next mark, glaring at him and performing more aggressively in compensation.

They’re not the only ones playing bumper cars. Riley and Lucas ram into one another, the latter stabilizing the former before immediately brushing past her and getting as far away as the choreography will allow. Riley is stunned frozen for a few moments, literally having to shake off the daze and frustration.

The whole thing comes to spectacularly disastrous finish, Lucas tripping over his own feet and ramming into Riley. He manages to catch her as they both go sprawling to the ground, causing Isadora to trip as well and accidentally push Farkle. Maya just barely manages to avoid the destruction, scrambling out of reach as Farkle face plants into the stage.

Close on Zay’s frustrated expression, at his wits end.

Zay: You’ve got to be fu -- !

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

We come back on a bloody tissue, pulling back to reveal Farkle dabbing at his lip. He doesn’t seem all that perturbed by the injury. Isadora is in the process of helping patch up Riley from their tumble, Lucas pacing a few steps away and not even bothering to fix his own scrapes.

Zay and Maya are doing most of the talking, arguing about the choreography and whether or not they’ll be able to pull it off. Zay claims that these are incredibly simple steps that any mediocre performer with a shred of coordination could pull off, but as Maya points to the rest of them recovering from their inability to do just that, clearly they need something different.

Maya: Sorry, but I’m not going to fail this assignment just because y’all over there can’t get your shit together.

Lucas: Bold of you to assume we’ll ever get anything right considering this is the absolute worst possible combination of people to be in a group together.

Farkle and Isadora both make faces at that -- he might have a point. Zay tells Lucas to speak for himself, before stating that they’ll obviously just have to stay after school and rehearse more. No one seems thrilled about this, not to mention there might be logistical issues.

Riley: Is the school even going to be open? It’s supposed to start snowing after lunch.

Farkle: And? It’s New York. What’s your point?

Hard to argue with that. The matter is settled, and they’ll be regrouping after school to give it another go. As the group of them begrudgingly head out, Riley tries to catch Lucas and offer some help since he’s definitely the weak link in this chain.

Riley: I can try and help you with the --

Lucas: [ without looking at her ] No.

He brushes past her, Riley taking a deep breath. Keeping her cool, not letting it get to her. It’s a stressful situation, one that none of them want to be in at that moment.

Still, the show must go on…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The bell rings, signaling freedom for the end of the school day. Farkle is alone at his locker, Isadora hanging down the hallway a few feet and observing. She finally works up the nerve to approach, tentatively kicking up a conversation with him. Bonkers, how this project is going, huh? Been a while since they worked together. How was Hannukah?

Farkle stares at her, blinking as she continues to throw polite questions at him. He doesn’t seem interested in having a conversation.

Farkle: [ interrupting her ] Smackle. Isadora.

Isadora: Yeah, yes. Yeah?

Farkle: What are you doing?

Isadora: … just… striking up conversation. Project partner to project partner. It’s a shame you weren’t at Riley’s holiday party there was… lots to discuss. We missed you there.

A lie, and Farkle knows it. He points out that he wasn’t invited, which seems odd to Isadora. But he questions her presence there before she can question his absence, following up with a query of his own.

Farkle: What about that little illegal techie party that happens every year that you think is a big secret but everyone knows about?

Isadora: [ ignoring his sarcasm ] Oh, yeah. Well… didn’t end up panning out this year. Scheduling conflicts, you know?

Farkle, flatly: Tragic.

He closes his locker, curtly thanking her for the pity friendship. She tries to refute this take but Farkle is already walking away, snapping at her not to be late to rehearsal because he just wants to go home and go back to bed.

Farkle: Maybe then I’ll wake up from this nightmare.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley is with Maya, the latter opening her locker and glancing at her reflection in the mirror. She’s obsessively touching herself up, fixating on her appearance given that it’s one of the few things she can control.

Maya: This is a living nightmare.

Riley is distracted, finishing typing a text on her phone. She cheerfully confirms that she let her father know they would be late at school for rehearsal.

Maya: I didn’t realize we needed to give him a play-by-play? Does he want to know what I ate for lunch, too?

Riley: … it’s just common courtesy?

Maya rolls her eyes, obviously not in the mood for courtesy. The exchange makes one thing very clear, however, which is that Riley and Maya had very different upbringings. Whether this will make for them being good roommates, well, only time will tell…

As they begin walking to the auditorium, Riley gently suggests that Maya take it easy on Lucas. Like yeah, he’s not good, but he’s also not a performer. She could afford to cool it on how critical she’s being, and then maybe he’d be able to come around.

Maya: I don’t see him ever coming around. You need talent to do that.

Riley: Okay, but I’m just saying --

Maya: I’m not going easy on anyone, least of all Jackass Friar. And you know, Riley, I hate to say it, but it’s a little pathetic that you’re still out here defending him when he’s made it quite clear that he doesn’t care about anybody but himself.

Ouchie, Miss Maya. Riley absorbs the blow, letting Maya walk ahead of her and blinking off the daze of the hit. It’s obvious that Riley doesn’t believe that, but the more people continue to say it to her like she’s being an idiot…

She lets out a huff, jogging to catch up to Maya.

Asher, pre-lapping: So how goes rehearsal?

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Lucas is at his locker, stuffing his bag into it unceremoniously. ASHER GARCIA watches with pity for the poor backpack receiving all his aggression, DYLAN ORLANDO standing behind him and leaning over his shoulder.

Lucas: God awful. You’re more than welcome to shoot me on sight, I would consider it a mercy kill.

Dylan claims that he’s totally jealous, because he wants to see Lucas pull off some sick moves. He shoots him a glare, obviously not in the mood to be complimented. Asher encourages him to keep his chin up, reminding him that it’s just another week and by the time they hit Friday it’ll be onto the next thing.

Lucas: And the next week, and the week after that… thanks Asher. That’s exactly what I needed, to remember that my torture in this circle of hell is continuous and cyclical.

Asher: [ rolling his eyes ] You know that’s not what I meant. Look, you’re doing exactly what Burgess told you to do, keeping your head low and falling into line --

Dylan, forlornly: God, this must be killing you.

[ Lucas makes a face at Dylan, accenting the point. Asher plows onward regardless, upholding his optimistic outlook. ]

Asher: And right now, that’s all you can do. But this too shall pass. You know, one day, we’re going to look back on how stressed we were about all of this stuff, and it’s gonna be hilarious because we’ll realize that none of it really mattered. What mattered was that we got through it, and we got through it together.

Even if Lucas isn’t convinced, Dylan is charmed by his boyfriend’s positive outlook. He smiles as he talks, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek when he finishes his thought. Then he follows up on the idea, pointing out that they thought the techie party was dead too and they managed to get through that. And it ended up being great in spite of the darker moments. So Asher is right.

A nice sentiment, but a confusing tidbit for Farkle to overhear as he passes through the hall. It seems like news to him considering what Isadora literally just said about the party being cancelled, but not like it’s any of his business. He keeps walking without comment.

Lucas is placated enough for now, nodding in acquiescence. He closes his locker, turning his focus to them and questioning how their rehearsal group is going.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

CHARLIE GARDNER responds to the same question in lieu of Dylan and Asher. They’re by his locker, Zay leaning against the rows and listening attentively as Charlie laments his own group.

Charlie: Exhausting. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Nigel and Yindra are mega talented. And Yogi is… well, he brings a certain special something to the table.

Zay: Sure.

Charlie: But it’s just a lot, working in such a big group and trying to cooperate when there’s no clear leader. Not to mention how weird it is that they mixed up the performers and techies like this -- not that I’m like, a separatist or anything [ Zay snorts ] but it just seems like a complicated aspect to the assignment. And Asher and Dylan keep looking at me, like they’re expecting something out of me, and then when I catch them looking they immediately look in the complete opposite direction which is not subtle and just makes me way more freaked out.

Zay gives him a sympathetic smile, Charlie closing his locker pointedly.

Charlie: Suffice to say, I am grateful that we’re not bothering to rehearse any more today. I would rather do anything else.

Zay: Wish that were me. I’m gonna be stuck here for hours teaching Friar how to dance with two left boots.

Charlie: Yeah, good luck with that. You’re good, but you’re no miracle worker.

Zay scoffs in faux offense, causing Charlie to laugh. This earns an immediate smile from Zay, who then questions what his evening plans are. Charlie shrugs, admitting that he doesn’t have many before clearing his throat and growing a little more bashful.

Charlie: Although… some all-you-can-eat fries at my favorite diner might be a good way to destress…

Zay: [ raising his eyebrows playfully ] Yeah?

Charlie: Well, this guy I know gave me a coupon, so…

It’s a lowkey flirtatious conversation to be having in the middle of the hallway, and the way they’re looking at one another is not subtle. Nice growth, boys. Proud of you.

Zay states that he could probably make that work, given that they can’t possibly hang around and rehearse their pointless number forever. He’ll be sure to text him and let him know when he’s heading out, and he’ll come pick him up.

It’s a date, then. In theory. As the conversation wraps up and they promise to see each other later, Zay leans forward and almost gives Charlie a kiss on the cheek on instinct. It’s so natural between them that he almost doesn’t pull back… until he remembers they’re in public and he suddenly flinches away.

An awkward moment passes between them as they lock eyes, the realization sinking in again that this is what their relationship is. Wonderful in so many important ways, and then… that. Charlie recovers first, managing a smile and patting his shoulder. He reiterates that he’ll see him tonight, accenting the point with a nod.

The message is clear. It’s okay, we’re in love, just… not here. Zay struggles to return the smile, obviously stung by that unexpected reminder.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Maya and Riley arrive back in the auditorium first, not talking much given that the former is in queen bitch mode and Riley is still sort of stinging from her earlier commentary. Zay enters next, glued to his phone and not bothering to look up as he drifts over to join them by the portable speaker.

Farkle saunters his way in, glancing in their direction and making fleeting eye contact with Riley. He opts to sit alone, plopping down on one of the acting blocks. Lucas follows soon after, eyeing all of them without comment before heading to the opposite end of the stage and settling on the lip of the stage.

Isadora is the last to straggle through the wings, surveying the scene and contemplating where to go. Maya waves her over before getting lost in the sound system again, but Isadora can’t stop looking at Lucas sitting on his own and isolating himself from the rest of them. So she opts to head in his direction, sitting down next to him instead.

She makes a playful comment about how she’s impressed he actually showed up, and while it was innocent Lucas sort of takes it personally given how off their communication has been as of late and how he’s still bruised from Harper’s takedown of him earlier in the year. So he bites back, defending himself and commenting on the stupid assignment and how he’s just trying not to derail all of them although there’s no place he’d rather be less.

Isadora nods along, but she’s clearly not in the mood for his negativity. She apologizes, stating she should’ve just not said anything. Lucas recognizes she didn’t mean it, starting to say something to try and salvage the exchange when Zay claps his hands loudly.

Up and at em, then. Time to get this trainwreck back on the tracks. Five, six, seven, eight --

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Revolting Children” as performed by Matilda Original Broadway Cast || Instrumental

If it’s possible, things are even worse than before as the hours pass and they run the routine over and over again. It all starts to run together, the motion blurring and overlapping. The soundtrack almost sounds like it’s skipping, repeating itself as they hypnotically repeat and screw up the choreography again and again.

Zay is clapping along aggressively with the track, counting out the beats and drenched in sweat by the time they’re on their dozenth or so run through. He’s less forgiving than usual after the weird moment with Charlie. But the fact of the matter is, Lucas isn’t going to get this choreography. It’s just not happening.

The point is made as much when he stumbles into Zay during another run, the latter growing aggravated and lightly pushing him away. This develops into a half-serious shoving match between the two of them, Isadora having to jump in between them.

Isadora: HONESTLY. COULD WE NOT?

Riley jogs to pause the music, the group of them instantly erupting into arguments. After a few opening shots are fired Farkle grows fed up, making his complaints for the first time all rehearsal. And boy, does he have a lot to say.

Farkle, bluntly: Here’s the read. [ to Maya ] You’re hogging the spotlight. [ to Lucas ] You’re in the way. [ to Zay ] You're so focused on the dancing, you’re off key. [ to Riley ] You're a pushover, now quite literally. [ to Isa ] And you picked this song, which I’m surmising has something to do with whatever internal baggage you’ve got going on right now, but it’s whiny and abrasive and yet still too difficult for Lucas. [ clapping his hands together ] So we're gonna fail! Buh-bye.

Farkle starts to walk away, but Maya grabs his attention again. Riley reaches out and takes his arm, tugging him back into the circle as he rolls his eyes.

Maya: If the song is too hard for you, we can pick another one that you might be able to manage. Maybe… the alphabet song? Twinkle, twinkle, little star?

Lucas, weary: Can we do a song where we just… stand still?

Farkle: Are you sure that’s what you want, Lucas James Friar? Are you sure you want your voice on display like that with nothing to distract the audience from the inhumane growling coming from your end of the stage?

Isadora: We’re doing “Revolting Children” and that’s the end of that. Last thing we need is to change our entire routine now.

Maya: That’s right. And you wanna know why she picked it, Farkle?

Farkle: Why’s that?

Maya: It reminds us of you.

Isadora: Don’t drag me into this shit, I just want us to work this out so we can get it over with.

As the group of them are bickering, Zay marches back to his duffle and begins packing up his things. Riley notices he’s parted from the group first, calling out for him and causing the rest of them to turn on him as he slings his back over his shoulder.

Maya: And where do you think you’re going?

Zay: Oh, me? I’m getting out of here. This is useless, I hate this... [ gesturing amongst them ] energy, and I have places and people I would much rather be with right now. So peace out, drop outs. I’m gone.

He starts his march out the doors through the house. Lucas gets in on the uptake, eagerly pointing to him and claiming that if he’s leaving, he’s so out too. The girls exchange looks before basically chasing the two of them out of the auditorium, shouting all the reasons why they can’t leave yet. Not when everything is such a mess!

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - NIGHT

Lucas has caught up to Zay, the two of them marching right for the doors while the girls jog after them and tell them to stop. The atrium is dimly lit, none of the natural light filtering in due to how it’s darkened to night outside.

Riley finally gets them to halt when they’re steps from the doors, pleading with them to just give it one more chance. It’s quite a comedically dramatic little scene. She says to think of their performance; Isadora begs them to think of their grades. Maya goes for the most blunt approach.

Maya: Think about not being a pain in the ass to the rest of us!

But Zay has had enough, and Lucas is more than ready to follow his exit. Zay gives them one last salute, backing into the doors and expecting to be able to push out into the night… only the door doesn’t budge. He hesitates, turning and trying again. Nothing. He pushes with all his might, but still it won’t open.

Lucas approaches and asks what he’s waiting for, and Zay defensively claims he’s doing everything he can. As they attempt to figure out what’s wrong with it, Riley saunters her way up to another door and looks through the glass windows to the scenery beyond them.

EXT. AAA - NIGHT

Easing out from Riley’s face in the window, we’re looking out towards New York in a winter wonderland. Snow is still falling, having coated the steps and iced around the doors. It’s sealed them in tight.

For all intents and purposes, the six of them are snowed in.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - NIGHT

Isadora blankly states the realization just as it seems to hit Riley, the two of them locking eyes. As this bleak reality settles in, some are less receptive to the possibility than others.

Lucas: Oh, hell no. I’m not going to be stuck in here with you all.

A little ironic, given how much time Lucas voluntarily spends in the school overnight -- but understandable given the circumstances. He claims he’s going to push his way out anyway, gearing up to ram at the door with a lot more raw force than Zay…

Farkle: It’ll be your death by frostbite.

The rest of them turn as Farkle finally catches up, slinking casually into the space. He claims Lucas can try all he wants, but even if he manages to get the door open he’ll die of hypothermia walking home alone with nothing but his denim jacket for coverage. Especially in the dead of night. He goes on to plaintively list all the ways this terrain is guaranteed to kill him, the others listening and watching the two of them like a tennis match.

Farkle: But by all means, go ahead and try it. I certainly won’t stop you.

Lucas grits his teeth, glaring at Farkle. He glances back through the windows at escape so close but so out of reach… then definitively steps away from the doors.

Officially stuck. Trapped, if you will. A-wink.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

The six of them are sprawled across the stage, laying on the ground and accepting their fates. It’s quite a fun cinematic shot. Farkle stares up at the lights and the catwalk above them -- they seem to stare back, unmoved. The whole auditorium is strange with a stillness we’ve never experienced before, usually so alive and bustling in the day time.

They’re very much moping, and there doesn’t seem to be anything to be done about it. Their conversation confirms that service is too spotty due to the notoriously bad reception in the auditorium combined with the storm. They can’t exactly call anyone to come help.

Zay: Well. We’re gonna die in here.

Isadora: Can’t think of another place I’d like to die least.

Maya: At least we’ll be missed.

Lucas: Maybe some of you.

Riley frowns, not a fan of the doom and gloom. Getting stuck on being stuck isn’t going to solve anything, and she’s always been a gal of action. She pushes herself to her feet, declaring that they’re going to be fine. They just have to think creatively.

This prompts the rest of them to slowly sit up, Riley leading the charge in brainstorming. First things first, the things they might need most immediately. Food. Hydration. Sustenance.

Farkle tilts his head back and forth, thinking. He half-heartedly suggests the teacher’s lounge, claiming they might be able find some salvageable food in there. Isadora seconds the idea, stating that they definitely have a microwave and refrigerator. There has to be stuff in there to work with -- not stuff that belongs to them, but better than nothing.

Zay: Sure, genius move. Only the teacher’s lounge is 100% locked. How the hell do you suggest we get inside?

A fair point… but perhaps not insurmountable. The group of them think on it… and slowly, all eyes turn to Lucas.

He lifts his head to see them all staring at him. After a moment, he rolls his eyes.

Lucas: Whatever.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Clunk! A canned beverage falls into the output port of a humming vending machine. Farkle reaches down and picks it up, tucking it under his arm.

He and Maya are on drink duty, painstakingly depositing spare change into the machine to procure beverages for their sad dinner party. It’s a… slow business, feeling even slower considering neither of them know what to say to one another. They haven’t spoken since Maya declared their chapter closed over a month ago, although both of them have evidently thought about it.

Maya is handling the money, at least giving her something to do. But Farkle is being unwittingly distracting, tapping his feet and exhaling through his lips. It clearly irritates the already moody Maya, causing her to snap.

Maya: Stop.

[ Farkle pauses. Silence prevails save for the clinking of coins and the operations of the machine… until he inevitably starts fidgeting again. ]

Maya: Could you stop?

[ He raises a hand in surrender, leaning down to pick up the next drink. More silence… but then once again… ]

Maya: How are you so annoying? Jesus…

Farkle doesn’t hold the same level of irritation towards her as she seems to him, and after another long moment of silence and another drink collected, he decides to try and explore the problem. He questions why she still seems so mad at him, given that most people have simmered down to general distaste or indifference at this point. Even more than that, she herself said she was done with him, so why is she still so upset?

Maya: … don’t flatter yourself.

Farkle: I’m just saying, you’re the only one still actively firing shots at me all the time. In spite of your own declaration that the chapter was closed.

Maya: Yeah, and?

Farkle shifts to leaning against the side of the machine, cradling his growing collection of drinks in his arms. He examines Maya as she continues to ignore him. Then, an attempt at vulnerability:

Farkle: I guess I understand it, actually. With everyone else, you know, it was… everyone else. What I did to you… revealing things that you trusted me with…

[ Maya closes her eyes, trying to keep her emotions in check. ]

Farkle, softly: That’s different. We were different --

Maya: God, Farkle, just stop!

Maya snaps, whipping to face him. She’s clearly operating on emotion when she lashes out again, stating that he can’t just do this. He can’t go all pathetic and vulnerable and expect her to feel bad and like him again. It’s not fair for him to play with her feelings like this. It’s not fair for him to have this kind of effect.

Farkle obviously doesn’t know what she’s talking about, operating with no ill intent. And for what it’s worth, it seems as though Maya is far more torn about what she should be feeling towards him than he is. She’s angry, sure, and she’s hurt, but there’s something else there that keeps the chapter from being closed… something that doesn’t want to let go…

Maya: You can’t keep doing this to me. I can’t keep doing this. Because it’s clear you only care about people when they’re operating in your favor --

Farkle: Maya --

Maya: And you know what, Farkle? You’re not God. You don’t control people, and you sure as hell can’t control me.

Maya drops the rest of the change onto the floor, scrambling to get away from him. She can’t be near him right now, when her emotions are so high and threatening to spill over.

Farkle watches her march off, before crouching down and robotically staring to pick up the change. As the angry guitar licks lead us in…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Playing God” as performed by Paramore || Performed by Maya Hart

Maya launches into this pop rock vent as she marches through the halls, running her hands through her hair and obviously struggling to deal with her emotions. The number progresses in a very Troy-Bolton-Scream capacity, Maya falling back against lockers and the room feeling as though it’s tilting as she fights to stay on her own two feet.

It’s a change of pace for the usually Broadway / pop classic diva, but in some ways it almost feels more authentic than anything we’ve heard from her yet. It’s raw and erratic, and the shift in genre reflects how conflicted she truly is over whatever her dynamic with Farkle is supposed to be. She keeps saying it’s closed, that she doesn’t want anything to do with him… and yet…

She stomps all through the familiar halls of AAA, until she drifts back towards home base…

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - NIGHT

Maya thrashes her way through the dressing room hall, blasting into the dressing room.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

This is where Maya rounds out the emotional performance, chewing up the scenery of her safe space at AAA as she rails through the last chorus. When she hits the last notes and “points you to the mirror,” she looks at her own reflection. Overcome with emotion, flushed, but maybe not completely absent of blame in how this relationship has fallen apart.

Difficult to stomach, as the look on her face clearly indicates.

INT. AAA - CATWALK - NIGHT

Unprecedented ground for a performer to be trekking, Zay is climbing around in the rafters up on the catwalk as he desperately searches for service. His messages are open with Charlie, where we can see he has tried to send a couple of texts with no luck. He’s attempting to give him a heads up of what’s going on, rather than just standing him up.

His endeavor isn’t going well, despite how he stretches as far as he can and practically begs the universe to have mercy on him. For a moment, it seems as though he might get a bar… maybe just enough time to send this quick text --

Isadora: What are you doing?

Zay jumps, surprised at being addressed. He nearly drops his phone, scrambling back and cradling it against his chest. He glances down over the rail of the catwalk, Isadora peering up at him with a critical eyebrow quirked in his direction.

He manages to cover smoothly, stating that he’s merely attempting to find cell service so he can get them some help. Someone has to try and get them the hell out of here. Isadora points out that even if he could reach someone, no one is going to come to their rescue in this weather.

Zay: You’re just a cock-eyed optimist, aren’t you, Izzy?

Isadora shrugs. He’s welcome to waste his time if he wants to, she doesn’t care enough to argue the point. Once she’s left him alone and drifted off elsewhere, Zay leans against the railing and checks his phone.

Still no dice. He sighs, cursing to himself and heading back to the other end of the catwalk.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - NIGHT

A quick series of shots show the process of breaking into the lounge -- practiced moves with a paperclip, jimmying the door handle, and a swift ID card through the crack in the door.

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - NIGHT

The door slowly creaks open, Riley and Lucas poking their heads into the darkened teacher’s lounge. They exchange a brief look, Lucas pushing the door open more and leading the charge inside while Riley flicks on the lights.

The act of scavenging begins, Riley wisely starting with the cabinets and fridge while Lucas takes his time sorting through the rest of the faculty belongings. He digs through the drawers on the cabinets, finding a lighter, an assortment of utensils, and a lot of spare change. He pockets all of it casually, basically a certified kleptomaniac at this point.

Riley opens the fridge and begins sorting through unclaimed items, gathering them onto the counter or into her arms. Lucas approaches to take a look, Riley explaining her thought process about which ones they can swipe as he leans over her shoulder to observe.

It’s the closest they’ve been in months, that fact seeming to strike both of them in the midst of Riley’s reasoning. They glance at one another when the other isn’t looking, each subtle shift in their expressions worth a thousand words.

As Riley trails off and silence settles over them, Lucas hangs in the close proximity for a second longer before swallowing and nodding. He takes some of the frozen food from the counter and focuses on heating it up, crossing the room to the microwave and putting more distance between them again.

Riley takes a deep breath, collecting herself from the tension of the moment. Although it would be easy to go through the motions and continue on as they have been, when she glances over her shoulder to look at him she can’t keep quiet. She can’t pass up the opportunity to speak to him when she has no idea when she might get one again.

Riley: I’m just going to talk for a second, okay?

Lucas doesn’t respond, keeping his back to her. But he doesn’t tell her off either, which is better than an outright rejection. She can’t see his reactions as she speaks, but she works up the courage to say what she needs to say anyway.

Riley: You don’t have to listen, and I know you won’t believe me. But I never… I never meant to hurt you. [ a beat ] It wasn’t about pity for me.

Although she can’t see it, Lucas is in fact listening. He’s listening, and her words do hit him in a way he wasn’t expecting. Whether or not he believes it, just hearing her say it sands down some of his defensive sharp edges.

Riley starts to ramble, explaining that the whole video was projecting from Farkle’s perspective. She definitely didn’t sign off on anything he said, but that’s not what she cares about really anyway. She just really wanted him to know that when she chose to hang out with him, it was her choice. Just as she’s stammering over why she chose to do just that, Lucas interrupts her.

Lucas, timidly: We weren’t bad, were we?

Riley stops cold, honestly not even sure he actually spoke. He’s still not looking at her, so it’s a bit difficult to tell for certain. He clears his throat, searching for the words. His hands are shaking on the countertop, his voice delicate with uncertainty.

Lucas: I know we weren’t… [ shaking his head ] it wasn’t perfect, but…

She knows what he means. Riley can’t help but smile, but there’s an ache to it, too. Everything about it aches.

Riley, softly: We were good.

The sentiment hangs in the air between them. Comforting, even if everything else remains uncertain. Lucas lets it sink in, nodding and swallowing hard. Clearly grappling with a lot of emotion, even if Riley can’t see it.

Then he clears his throat again, grabbing the finished food and giving Riley rushed instructions on how they should handle the rest. He makes his escape, brushing past her and disappearing out into the hallway without another word.

Riley watches him go, inhaling another shaky breath. She makes her way over to the microwave, trying to follow through on his directions and shake off the tension that consumed the room.

But she can’t escape it. She drops the food container back on the counter, closing her eyes and composing herself again. When she looks over her shoulder at where he left, her eyes are shining with unspoken emotion.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Close To You” as performed by Rihanna || Performed by Riley Matthews

Riley’s rendition of this soft, gentle song is hauntingly beautiful, and the lyrics truly do say it all. It’s obviously growing increasingly more difficult to straddle this line that’s been drawn between them, even though she knows he’s more than capable of being fine without her.

She wanders over to the door to the teacher’s lounge, almost leaving but then leaning back against it instead. Panning just a little bit through the wall, we see that Lucas hasn’t gone all that far -- he’s just outside the doors, trying to catch his breath and mirroring her emotion. Just a wall separating them, as there seems to be emotionally as well.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - NIGHT

As the song progresses, Riley meanders her way through the halls with all the space and freedom to take her time given that there’s no one else around. As we make our way back to the auditorium…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Similar visuals of Riley and Lucas pepper the remainder of the sequence, instances where they’re just out of reach of one another -- separated by curtains, on opposite sides of a set piece, etc.

As the piano carries through to the end, Riley mindlessly wanders her way through the house seats… until she finds herself standing outside the technician’s booth door. Because of course that’s where she’d end up.

Riley slides down in front of it, sitting outside the door and tilting her head back against the wood. Locked out, in more ways than one.

She closes her eyes as the gentle notes on the piano take us home…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Supper time! The six are assembled on the floor behind the center section, cramped there with the back section to the booth looming behind them. It’s not the most comfortable set-up, Farkle opting to slouch in one of the auditorium seats in the back center section instead of the ground.

Isadora looks at her microwave meal with distaste, but opts to complain about something else. Namely, the fact that they’re cramped there to eat when they could easily eat on the stage and spread out a little bit. Riley coughs at Zay and Maya, but the latter defends their stance.

Maya: Sorry, but the stage is not meant to be eaten on like a common kitchen table.

Lucas, deadpan: Not meant to be defiled either, but y’all do that every week when you basically pee on it to claim your territory.

This earns a reaction or two, Riley choking on her food and covering her mouth -- and potentially a giggle. Isadora chuckles, chewing her food with a smirk. Zay rolls his eyes, Maya even more disgusted.

Maya: Oh, please.

Lucas: No, really. Now that Farkle has stopped giving a shit for attention, you’re the new one stomping all over people in your psychopathic climb to the top.

Maya, sarcastically: Whew, ouchie! That really hurt! I’ll remember that twenty years from now when I’m touring Madison Square Garden and you’re in prison.

This devolves into another argument, this time zeroing in on everyone’s attitudes. There’s a jab from Zay about Farkle’s pathetic woe-is-me routine, and Lucas ends up slighting Isadora when he responds to another criticism by highlighting her near split personality at this point considering she’s torn between two different realities.

Riley steps in to try and defend Isadora, and even give Lucas back some credit, but that only sets her up to be the next target. Maya hits her with “and there she goes again,” and even Zay incidentally jumps on the bandwagon when he agrees it’s pretty stupid to try and defend Lucas…

In front of Lucas. He glances at Riley, who looks like she wants to die of embarrassment.

All of this leads up to Maya finally taking a direct shot at Lucas, saying what apparently everyone has been thinking -- that he very clearly doesn’t care about anything or anyone but himself. This seems to light a fuse, and suddenly Lucas unexpectedly snaps.

Lucas: I don’t care? [ viciously ] I wish I didn’t care!

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Untitled Free Verse” || Performed by Lucas James Friar

Less of a song and more of an experience, all of the oxygen seems to get sucked out of the room as Lucas finally, finally cracks. The rest of them freeze as focus directs solely to Lucas, who launches into a frenzied, unfiltered rant. It’s reminiscent of Alexander Hamilton’s free verse in “The World Was Wide Enough,” moments before the bullet hits him that ends his life.

For Lucas, it’s not going to be a bullet wound that takes him out but the sheer weight of everything he’s feeling. It’s practically slam poetry as he attempts to sort through all these emotions that he can’t grapple with, coming out as a blistering display of blunt vulnerability.

Because it’s not just Farkle’s stupid rant video, it’s not the senseless drama of AAA. It’s everything. It’s the booth being taken from him, it’s the fact that he has to rely on the booth in the first place. It’s his parents being shit parents, it’s him being a shit son. It’s Dylan and Asher and how they love him, even though he kind of wishes they would hate him instead so he could leave them alone. It’s being an inevitable disappointment to Jack, it’s the detestable desire for Riley. It’s Isadora and her talent taking her over; it’s having no fucking talent at all.

It’s all of that that is spilling out of him like an open wound, stammered and out of breath and glossy-eyed. All these things he wishes he didn’t, tries desperately not to care about, but yet still does. He cares, he cares too much, and it’s gonna suffocate him. It’s all he can do not to burn everything down with him, so it’s easier to pretend none of it matters. Because he doesn’t matter -- God knows he doesn’t matter -- so why should anything else? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter --

Just as the scene becomes so claustrophobic and feels like it’s going to implode -- there’s a click and suddenly it flattens out again. Lucas isn’t standing in the center of the circle but is back where he was sitting earlier, having not made any moves at all. His expression is blank, Maya snapping him out of it when she grabs his attention.

Maya: Well? Aren’t you going to say anything, Jackass?

Whatever we all just heard, they certainly didn’t. It was all in his imagination, still threatening to suffocate him. But despite everything he obviously needs to say, Lucas merely grits his teeth and forces a sardonic smile.

Lucas: Nothing that matters.

Despite what remains unsaid, that pressure is leaking off of him like lighter fluid. Riley can’t take the tension, searching for a change of subject and perhaps a way to get away from them for a bit considering how Zay and Maya effectively embarrassed her. She declares that they need to shift gears and focus on something else. Something fun to lighten the mood.

Isadora, flatly: Oh, this isn’t fun for you? I’m having the time of my life.

Sarcasm aside, Zay agrees with an encouraging nod. Doing something a little less stressful might keep them all from killing each other before morning.

Farkle: We were just eating…

Riley gets to her feet and paces, lighting up with an idea. Considering her uncle is basically the ambassador of non-stressful activities at this school, perhaps he’ll have something in his office that will offer a little reprieve. She jogs to her backpack, unzipping the front pocket and retrieving a spare key to his office.

Isadora: You’ve had that the entire time?

Riley tilts her head, handing the key to Isadora and placing it definitively in her palm. She assigns the task to her and Farkle, sending them on their way to go searching while they all scour in here.

They disband, off on another mission. At least it’s something to do. Farkle and Isadora exchange a look, wearing somewhat matching expressions of resignation.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - NIGHT

Zay is back to searching for a signal, up in the costume loft for some height as he wanders the space. He carefully climbs onto one of the costume racks, actually managing to get a couple of bars. He reacts in excitement, going to Charlie’s contact and hitting call.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie is doing homework on his bed, seemingly not in that great of a mood. Considering he thinks he just got stood up by his boyfriend, the gloom makes sense.

He jumps when his phone rings, crawling forward to grab it from the end of the bed. He obviously seems relieved to see it’s Zay, but he pulls back on the emotion and tries to exude something more aloof as he answers the call.

Charlie: You know, being late isn’t a heavenly sin, but not showing up at all…

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - NIGHT

The ensuing conversation is split between the two locations, Zay exhaling in relief and attempting to maintain his balance and keep the signal. He starts to explain what happened and assuage Charlie’s concerns and indignation, but the connection isn’t great and he keeps breaking up. Charlie tries to tell him as much, growing more confused than frustrated, but Zay isn’t even really getting his replies.

Then, the real kicker -- Zay’s phone dies midcall. When he checks to confirm this grim reality, he loses his balance and falls off the rack, collapsing into a pile of costumes. Charlie says his name a couple of times in concern, pulling back from his phone to confirm that he did actually hang up out of nowhere. What the hell?

So close, only to be thwarted. Zay growls in frustration and then grabs a costume piece, using it to stifle his scream of frustration. Then he sits up, taking a deep breath and pulling himself back together as he heads back down the step ladder.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Maya is glued to her own phone, mindlessly flipping back and forth on the home screens since there’s nothing else to do. Riley marches over to where she’s seated in the back section and demands her attention. She musters up her nerve before stating that she doesn’t care for the way Maya has been constantly dismissing her. Regardless of her intentions by doing it, Riley is more than capable of making her own choices and doesn’t need her approval.

Maya claims she’s just looking out for her. She simply isn’t impressed by her decision to stand by Lucas for any reason -- the man himself currently in the background, climbing around on the leftover set pieces from Into the Woods and looking for a place to perch and be left alone. But as Riley points out, that’s none of Maya’s business. Whether or not it’s stupid, the choice belongs to Riley and all Maya needs to do is respect it.

Riley: If you and I are going to share a living space, we are going to have to start respecting one another as more than just performers.

Definite food for thought. Maya absorbs this, the challenge lingering between them when Zay approaches to disrupt the confrontation. He asks if either of them has a charger he can borrow.

Riley nods and digs through her bag to grab hers. Maya questions why Zay has been so desperate to find a signal all evening, seeing as the rest of them have given up. Who could he possibly be trying to reach so badly? He once again claims he’s just trying to get help, but she retorts that it’s far too late for that and they’re stuck until morning at this point no matter what.

Maya then starts brainstorming out loud, puzzling over who else Zayby could possibly be trying to contact. Someone… special, perhaps? This excites Riley as she returns with the charger, immediately jumping on the notion with delight. Romance, now there’s something to lighten the mood!

Riley: I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you could have a significant other and not tell me about them.

Zay: [ with an incredulous scoff ] Who said I did?

Despite his lack of confirmation, Riley and Maya latch onto this theory and start eagerly trying to guess who it could possibly be. Not Yindra, Maya would have definitely heard about that. Nigel? No, he’s too deep in his serious artiste phase right now… Zay keeps shooting them down but they’re practically giddy with interest. Come on, Zay, tell us! Tell!

Obviously, Zay isn’t going to say a word about Charlie. But he can tell they aren’t letting up any time soon, so he’s got to give them something. Defending his boyfriend’s privacy and non-present honor, he decides to give them something to tide them over -- which is to say, absolutely nothing real at all.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Particular Taste” as performed by Shawn Mendes || Performed by Zay Babineaux

Zay launches into this boppy pop tune, basically building a fake significant other for Maya and Riley to daydream about as a distraction. The three of them get into the groove of it, dancing around the auditorium while Zay sings about the eccentricities of his mystery lover.

When they make their way onto the stage around the second verse, he makes a point of poking at Lucas sitting up in one of the leftover trees a la Troy Bolton in High School Musical. He swats irritably at him, Zay grinning and ducking around to the other side of the set.

Although most of the details in the lyrics are made up, not all of it is entirely fictional. Zay’s expression is what acts as a giveaway, becoming more thoughtful or smitten on phrases that could most certainly apply to Charlie. It’s glimmers of truth hidden within the facade, ones that Maya and Riley don’t notice as they jam on the stage with him.

The best example of a lapse in the charade comes at the bridge. Zay seems more than a little lost in a memory as he soulfully sings about fingers in hair and knowing exactly what you want, before snapping himself out of it and launching into the last verse.

It’s the most energized fun they’ll have while trapped against their will, so might as well enjoy it. Riley, Zay, and Maya descend into laughter as they wrap the number, Zay taking a bow and waving them off with a “thank you, thank you.”

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

The door creaks open, Isadora stepping inside before opening it wider for Farkle to enter. She turns on the lights and gets to searching, but Farkle hangs back in the doorway. He seems tentative to enter, reluctant to cross the threshold.

Isadora starts digging through shelves, looking for where Eric might hide fun activities.

Isadora: Feels weird, being in here without him.

Farkle: Feels weird being in here regardless.

Isadora tosses him a look, message clear from her expression. Okay, edgelord.

Isadora: Are you gonna help, or are you just going to stand there?

That seems to startle him out of his fugue. He steps inside, cracking the door closed behind him and settling into searching as well.

As they start gathering things to take -- not many offerings, unfortunately -- Isadora contemplates another topic of conversation. It doesn’t have the smoothest of starts, considering both of them are terrible at communication.

Isadora: I’m not trying to pity converse with you --

Farkle: Oh, sure. Totally. The queen of the techies wants to befriend the freefalling Icarus of the performers, someone she so strongly dislikes she once referred to him as “the spoiled produce of people.” Or, alternatively, described interacting with him like “stepping on a LEGO brick without shoes.”

Isadora: … well, you deserved those things. At the time. [ off his eye roll ] But, well, things change.

Farkle, blankly: Sure do.

Isadora eyes him curiously. Something about his plain response is so… off. So unlike Farkle X. Minkus, the Icarus of the performers. She settles on the floor across from him, slouching back against the desk.

Isadora: Honestly, I’m not even sure “queen of the techies” is an applicable title for me anymore. So I guess we’ve both fallen from grace.

Somehow, in spite of the conversation being painfully awkward, it hits on everything that is up in the air in their lives. Isadora’s struggle to join a new side of the school, Farkle’s increasing isolation, his odd behavior as of late…

He asks why she even bothered to try and make the change, wondering what she could possibly gain from joining the performer side of things. Isadora wonders why he would even ask considering performing is like his whole world -- something he’s seemed to have forgotten.

Farkle: I don’t know why you would even bother. Being a performer is hell.

Isadora: Isn’t that like… your entire reason for existing?

Farkle: [ a beat, blankly ] Well, yeah. Sure. But seems like you’d be having a lot more fun sticking with the techies.

When she gets him to elaborate, Farkle reluctantly admits -- without the exact words, of course -- that he’s always been jealous of the techie crew. Sure, they’re annoying and rude and constantly make their lives more difficult (Isadora: The feeling is mutual.), but they’re such a united front. They’re a team, and they tackle things collaboratively rather than having to knock one another down to succeed.

Not only that, they’re friends, which may as well be a miracle at this school. They support one another, they actually know one another, they have parties for God’s sake --

Isadora: Well, like I said, sometimes those things don’t last. We’re not nearly as perfect as we seem.

Farkle: … really? Are you sure?

Isadora asks him what he means, and Farkle innocently explains what he overheard between Lucas, Asher, and Dylan. He doesn’t mean to stir up trouble -- really, this time -- but as far as he could tell, there was definitely a celebration of some kind.

Isadora is obviously shocked to learn this. She curses under her breath, hitting her head back against the desk in lieu of actually dealing with her emotions in front of Farkle. Still, this is a big whammy to absorb, and she doesn’t do a great job of keeping it all sealed away.

Isadora: This fucking sucks! [ with a huff ] It’s like I’m back in freshman year, stuck in this mass of people who don’t know who I am. And I don’t have Lucas there to clear the way for me, because he doesn’t know who I am either. I’m on the outside looking in all over again. Like… fucking isolated.

Farkle: Tell me about it.

Oh. Huh. The two of them exchange a strange look, having a moment they didn’t expect to have. Farkle and Isadora have always considered themselves opposite ends of a spectrum, only suddenly they’re experiencing the same things. Perhaps, potentially, there is more in common between the two of them than they realized. And perhaps, there is a whole other side of their adversary to explore and understand that they have never even contemplated before.

There’s a weird heaviness to the realization, both of them looking away from one another and clearing their throats. Both suddenly very aware that there’s depth to the other person, and maybe they don’t really… hate one another. Not the actual person underneath the facade.

Isadora escapes by shifting her focus, climbing to her feet. She claims she has to go deal with this betrayal, grabbing the cushion off the chair across from Eric’s desk and pummeling it in her hands. She tucks the one from the other chair under her arm, marching towards the door.

Before she exits she pauses, doubling back and locking eyes with Farkle.

Isadora: Maybe Icarus and the Dethroned Queen could afford to hang out sometime. Just. Not when they’re locked in a pressure cooker doing the worst assignment on Earth.

Farkle: … yeah. Maybe.

Isadora: Now if you’ll excuse me. [ lifting the pillow ] I have to go kill my best friend.

Isadora storms out, leaving Farkle alone.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Maya and Zay are back on the stage again, arguing in low voices about the assignment and whether or not they’ll have to change everything. Lucas saunters past them, hovering uncertainly near the wings and trying to work up the courage to approach Riley.

Finally he does, subconsciously wringing his hands as he does so. She’s standing at the stage manager’s podium, idly flipping through a discarded copy of the Into the Woods libretto.

Lucas: … hey.

Riley lifts her head, staring at him. Not sure why he’s deemed to talk to her, maybe hoping it’s for a good reason, dreading it’s for worse. Mostly, she’s waiting for him to say something, which it seems as though he’s lost the ability to do.

He finds it again eventually. He clears his throat, torn between forcing himself to look at her and averting his eyes to the floor.

Lucas: I just wanted to, um -- what they were saying during dinner. About… [ quickly ] you know you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to keep defending me.

Riley: [ not moved ] I know I don’t have to. I don’t have to do anything.

Riley goes back to looking at the script. Lucas blinks, even more confused than before. He crosses his arms, considering just walking away but not able to let it go.

Lucas: I don’t get it. I don’t get why… why would you waste the effort? Especially when everyone is telling you not to.

Riley: Because I don’t let other people’s opinions form my own? [ a beat ] And because friends don’t need a reason. And just because… just because you decided we weren’t friends anymore because of something someone else said doesn’t mean I did. So.

The sentiment seems mindblowing to Lucas. He can’t wrap his head around it, having only ever understood the relationships in his life to be conditional. While he’s struggling to grasp it, Riley is clearly having an internal debate of her own. She looks up at the wall before turning to him, deciding to say her final piece.

Riley: I feel like I know who you are. I know who I wanted to be my friend and… [ changing direction ] I feel pretty confident that I know who he is. And if that person is who you really are, then it’s not effort to defend you. I will always believe in you.

[ Lucas is speechless. Riley powers through, sincerity shining through her gaze. ]

Riley: That’s not something I have to do, but… I don’t think I could do any differently.

They can’t look away from one another. It’s as if the whole world has frozen around them, and whether or not it’ll keep spinning depends on what Lucas says next. He’s clearly searching for what to say… if there’s anything to say at all…

But, of course, the world is not only the two of them.

Isadora: LUCAS JAMES FRIAR!

Lucas whips around just in time to see the cushion flying at him. He pushes Riley protectively behind him on instinct, covering his face as the pillow hits him in the torso. Isadora is marching across the stage, another cushion ready to fire.

Lucas: What the hell, Dora?

Maya and Zay jog over to Riley, pulling her away from the fray.

Riley: What’s happening?

Maya: Don’t know, but I’m not surprised.

Riley: Should we do something?

Zay: [ already pulling her away ] Go, run, go --

The three of them bolt, leaving Lucas and Isadora to have their great showdown. Lucas provokes her to tell him what the hell she’s going off about, to which she throws the revelation of the techie party.

Lucas, incredulous: That’s what you’re pissed about? Don’t throw shit at me, then, go after Asher and Dylan. You know I don’t do things for myself.

Isadora: And yet, nobody told me! So I guess you all just had a super great time without me, like you always do.

Lucas: Don’t turn this on us. Like you even fucking care, you’ve got a whole new crew to hang out with. That’s what you did, isn’t it?

Isadora: … don’t make this about what it isn’t --

Lucas: You were the one who brought it up. You don’t want to get real?

Isadora: Oh. Oh? You want to get real? Fine. You wanna tell me when you got the money to get those new boots? [ off his guilty expression ] No, seriously, I’d love to know. I know Grace and Kenneth didn’t get them for you --

Lucas, fiercely: Hey, shut up.

Their argument quickly escalates, but the fact of the matter is, they don’t get real. They keep jabbing at one another for the petty, annoying things they’ve done to each other in the last couple of months, rather than actually addressing the tension and distance forming in their relationship. Lucas takes a pointed dig and claims she’s becoming just like Valerie, and this offends Isadora. She fires back that she doesn’t want to abandon anyone, he’s the one who hasn’t been there for her at all this year. Friendship is a two-way street!

It’s more than clear -- something in their dynamic is in serious disrepair. Neither of them can articulate it, but boy, are the emotions from it loud and clear.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Defying Gravity” as performed by Wicked Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz (feat. Lucas James Friar)

This argument segues perfectly into the opening fight of the Broadway showstopper, Isadora claiming that she hopes Lucas is happy that he’s ruined his life forever with his behavior. He fires back that he hopes she’s happy too, now that she’s submissive and a suck up and just like the rest of the performers “to feed her own ambition.”

Once the song settles into quiet before the actual number, Lucas tries to appeal to her one last time. He points out that she could still come back to the techies, and things could go back to normal. Things don’t have to change.

Isadora: I know… but I don’t want it. I can’t want it anymore.

This is what truly kicks off the number, Isadora taking the Elphaba role while Lucas jumps in on the Galinda beats -- trying to convince her she’s being delusional, to make her realize what she’s giving up, whereas Isadora instead feels like he wants an unfair compromise from her. She’s spreading her wings and trying to be something that feels closer to who she actually is -- can’t that be a good thing? Can’t he be happy for her?

As the number unfolds, Isadora drifts closer and closer to the lights on center stage, whereas Lucas symbolically stays tied to the shadows of the wings. Even as she gets close to moments of pulling him into the light, he shies away or turns the tables.

At the bridge, as they’re exchanging genuine “I hope you’re happy” sentiments, it’s clear that the two of them are not going to be able to bridge this divide they see built between them. As they sing the last harmony in the performance, they clasp hands, and it’s the most emotive the two of them have ever intentionally been with one another. When they wish each other happiness “in the end,” it’s clear that they really mean it.

Then, as the music swells, Isadora backs towards the lights again… and Lucas lets her go. Their hands slip apart, and Isadora stumbles right into the stage lights to deliver a commanding rendition of the remainder of the song.

The other four take the chorus parts, scattered within the house of the auditorium. In the last escalating chorus, Lucas watches from the shadows of the wings before turning away and disappearing into the shadows. Isadora belts out the final note with gusto, proving exactly why she needs to see this performing thing through to the end.

One just has to wonder, as Lucas walks away, if everything will be worth it in the end.

INT. AAA - PROP LOFT - NIGHT

Quiet has settled over the space as the group attempts to get some sleep. As we pan across the auditorium, we get glimpses of Maya, Zay, Isadora, and Lucas all trying to get as comfortable as possible in their chosen nooks so they can rest. Notably, they’re all a good distance away from one another.

Riley isn’t giving it much effort, knowing she’s not going to get restful sleep. She’s wandering around instead, just climbing her way up into the prop loft.

She doesn’t spend much time up there, but now she’s wondering if maybe she should. It’s neat, cozy, and has a calm air for being somewhat “above it all.” She gently handles props as she passes along the shelves, smiling at the peach-colored paper slips taped all over the place that detail Asher’s intensive procedure for keeping the place organized.

Riley stops at the back wall, sliding down into a seat against it amidst the shelves and tables of props. She tilts her head back, looking at the shelves to her left until her brow crinkles. She leans forward and pulls another piece of paper from the shelf, tucked inside one of the cubbies and only visible from where she’s sitting.

It’s plain white notebook paper, different than all of Asher’s reminders and notes. She unfolds it, finding Dylan’s big, messy scrawl instead.

Hi, Ash!

Remember to unclench your jaw, relax your shoulders, and breeeeathe. Also, you’re the best and I love you!

Love, Dyl

Although the message was not intended for her, Riley finds herself following the directives anyway. She can’t help but smile, relaxing her muscles before folding the note back up neatly and putting it back right where she found it. She isn’t sure whether it’s new, or if it’s been there for ages and Asher keeps it there simply to revisit it when he’s feeling exactly how she’s feeling right now. She could honestly believe either possibility.

It’s a nice reminder, that people can treat one another with warmth and kindness even in the face of so much uncertainty.

Farkle emerges from the step ladder, hesitating at the top. He looks to Riley and waits for permission of some kind to enter.

Farkle: Sorry we couldn’t find anything to do.

Riley: [ with a shrug ] We’re all gonna die in here anyway, so. I can’t pretend a board game would’ve fixed everything.

The actual conversation is as good an invitation as any. Farkle treads cautiously and joins her in the space, settling down into a seat against the shelves and propping his elbows on his knees.

Riley awkwardly fills the silence, lamenting the fact that students could even get stuck in the school. What procedures failed that led to them getting stuck in here anyway? And if they decide to close schools tomorrow, what then? She knows it’s unlikely given that New York hardly closes unless Hell is freezing over, but --

Farkle: I’m sorry you had to pay for it.

Farkle’s statement is abrupt, like it’s spilling out of him. Riley stops talking and looks at him, waiting to see if he’s going to clarify his outburst. He digs his nails into his knees, frowning at the ground as he tries to articulate it.

Farkle, shakily: For the video. The things I said. [ a beat ] I know what I did was stupid. Pure idiocy. And I don’t have an excuse. Even if I did, I hardly think it would matter. But I never meant for it get so out of control. I didn’t think everything would get so… I never thought everyone else would --

He swallows, clearing his throat. Riley waits patiently. Finally, he lifts his gaze to meet hers.

Farkle, timid: I didn’t mean to mess everything up for you. [ voice cracking ] I’m really sorry.

Riley can tell he’s being genuine. His nervous demeanor and glassy eyes make it hard to believe he could be flubbing his way through the apology. After a moment, she extends the only reassurance she thinks she has the power to give.

Riley: I forgive you.

It’s barely a dent in everything that’s gone wrong. It’s far from fixed. But it’s something, and that’s better than nothing. Farkle gives her a weak smile, dipping his head down again.

The two of them settle into the quiet.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Much like when they first learned they were trapped, the six are sprawled across the stage again. Backpacks are being used as pillows -- aside from Riley, who has her head on Zay’s torso. Lucas and Isadora are on opposite ends of the space. Their eyes are closed, but it’s evident none of them have gotten any actual rest.

Although there’s still plenty of tension, sleep deprivation and loss of fucks to give leads to Isadora asking some silly sleepover-esque question that causes everyone to shush her or groan. But they get into the discussion anyway, the conversation veering in a couple of comedic random directions before petering out again.

In the silence, Zay grows solemn. He pats Riley’s head affectionately, releasing a sigh.

Zay: Does any of this matter?

Maya: What do you mean?

Zay: Like… everything we’re doing. The things we’re stressing about right now. Assignments, rivalries --

Isadora: Party lines --

Farkle: Big mistakes --

Zay: The secrets… is any of it going to be worth it? In ten years, is any of this going to mean anything?

Riley: Are we even going to remember it?

Zay: Does it even matter?

The group ruminates on the big question, hanging over them like the winter storm. Lucas chimes in first, although he stays turned on his side away from the rest of them. His expression is melancholic, starting to crack his aloof facade due to lack of sleep and time alone.

Lucas: No. It doesn’t matter.

Zay: Big surprise from Mister Truancy.

Lucas: You asked. I’m telling you. We’re going to graduate -- or not -- and go our separate ways. Get jobs we don’t care about, lose touch with people we swore we never would, start relationships and get married because we’re supposed to. Then we’ll die, like everybody else.

Maya: You’re so fucking charming, you know that?

Riley jumps in, aiming to divert the discussion from becoming a scrap between Maya and Lucas. She asks what all of them think about that -- what happens after they die?

Riley: I mean, my parents always said… we were never really religious. But there has to be some sort of purpose to it all, right? If all of that is what we’re destined to do, then there has to be something later. It has to be leading to something.

Isadora: Heaven, you think. But that presumes there’s a God up there to impress.

Maya: [ with a snort ] Okay. Thanks, Charlie Gardner.

Zay: Hey, come on.

Lucas: There is no God.

Maya: Oh, wah, wah, wah --

Lucas: There isn’t. If there was, would he seriously let all this just happen? All this shitty stuff in the world, and he just lets it happen? [ a beat ] Some higher power.

Riley: I guess that depends on whether or not we deserve it.

Isadora: God has nothing to do with what happens. Humans have free will. We make those choices. Whatever happens, that’s on us.

For being surprisingly quiet through a majority of the conversation, Farkle wraps it up. His statement is genuine, catching all of them off-guard.

Farkle: Well, I hope you all would. Get into heaven.

This sinks in slowly, obviously impacting each of them differently. Lucas looks unconvinced. Riley and Zay are thoughtful. Isadora seems to be contemplating Farkle’s odd change of heart.

Maya is the most affected, obviously torn on how to take the sentiment -- wanting to believe it’s sincere, clearly wanting to absorb it, but also wanting to stick to her guns of being done with Farkle Minkus.

Zay breaks the meditative silence, letting out another declarative sigh and stating the obvious.

Zay: Afterlife aside, we can all agree this assignment is fucked, yeah?

Riley laughs, launching into uncontrollable, sleep-deprived giggles. The kind that are contagious, so then Isadora is breaking into chuckles. Hearing them laugh makes Lucas smile in spite of himself -- Zay starts laughing too. Then Maya, even Farkle. All of them are in delirious fits of laughter, but it’s the most any of them have laughed in ages. Least of all together.

For a moment, things feel better.

The prison sentence is interrupted when HARLEY KEINER enters with JACK HUNTER, the two of them coming in to check out how the auditorium is holding up before school officially opens for the morning. Jack is tired and holding his morning coffee, stunned when they walk out of the wings to find the six of them lazing around.

Jack: What on Earth are you all doing in here?

Sunlight! A savior from the outside! Maya is the first to jump to her feet, the rest of them getting up and scrambling up to escape. Jack tries to get them to explain what’s going on, and why it seems as though they’ve been here overnight. But they’re making bee lines for the exit, happy to get the hell away from one another. They breeze past him, Maya even yoinking his coffee with a quick thanks and flip of her hair.

Farkle is the last to leave, just sitting up at center stage while Jack tries to get his bearings on the situation. He blinks, spinning around.

Jack: What the hell happened in here?

Farkle: Don’t worry about it, Principal Hunter.

Farkle slowly gets to his feet, sauntering over to Jack. He gives him an exhausted smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Farkle, matter-of-factly: Everything is the same as it always is. Nothing is ever going to change.

Farkle heads out the dressing room hall, leaving Jack to ponder what terrible things must have unfolded in that auditorium overnight. He places his hands on his hips, looking around at the vast space. As the robotic, spacey tones of “Agnes” float in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Agnes” as performed by Glass Animals || Performed by Farkle Minkus

Farkle meanders into the detached and dreamy conclusion to the episode, floating through the empty halls and singing at a rather monotone pitch. It’s a groovy track with some subtly dark undertones, the echoing refrain of “You’re gone but you’re on my mind / I’m lost but I don’t know why” feeling particularly heavy. On the lines “this time you overdid the liquor, this time you pulled the fucking trigger,” Farkle glances at his reflection in one of the classroom windows before pithily pretending to shoot himself with a finger gun.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Intercut with the performance, Farkle dances loosely at center stage in the dark, nothing but the ghost light illuminating a small circle of the stage. It’s the most free-wheeling Farkle has ever seemed dance wise, but there’s an uneasy quality to it too.

As the number comes to an end, Farkle ceases his dancing. He almost seems like a completely different person -- frumpy cardigan, hair a tangled mess, expression blank and devoid of any of his usual eccentricities as he stares out at the empty auditorium.

Then he walks off stage, only the ghost light breaking the swath of darkness until it flicks out.

END OF EPISODE.

#S2 #episodes #206 #this one... now this one y'all.....

14 notes · View notes

makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 167: Every Breath You Take

Previously on BnHA: Todo, Bakugou, Inasa, and Camie were assailed by a bunch of six-year-olds with some admittedly impressive quirks. We learned about the theory of “quirk singularity” which basically says that quirks are going to keep getting more and more powerful with each generation until they become impossible to control. Not sure if this will come up again, but it’s a cool concept. The adults watching were all “...” but it turned out that the Baby-Sitters Club had things under control. They easily blocked the kids’ attacks, and then used their own quirks to create an awesome playplace for the kids with a giant ice slide. (Oh yeah, and we also learned that CAMIE HAS A FUCKING ILLUSION QUIRK. So that was cool too.) Bakugou had a heart to heart with the bratty leader of the kids, and told him that he wouldn’t be able to grow unless he learned to stop looking down on other people. Yes, Bakugou actually said this. Yes, that Bakugou. Not to be outdone, Endeavor now appears poised to start his own journey of becoming less of an asshole. This is exciting, you guys. I’m excited.

Today on BnHA: The babysitting squad bids farewell to the kids, who have now been totally reformed and are all polite little angels. The U.A. and Shiketsu teachers discuss plans to work together in the future and foster a closer relationship, seeing as both schools have had their students targeted by the League of Villains. Endeavor tells Shouto he’s proud of him and vows to become a man Shouto can be proud of too. The internship arc wraps up and we learn that U.A. suspended the kids’ internships with Ryuukyuu and Fat Gum for the time being, and that Eri has woken up and is doing better, but she’s still in the hospital for now while they analyze her mental state and try to figure out how to handle her potentially lethal quirk. A few days later, we catch up with Deku, whose affections Aoyama seems to be trying to pry by randomly giving him cheese. Later that night, in what is unquestionably the single most terrifying scene in this series to date, Deku hops into bed only for the camera to pan over to Aoyama, who is standing pressed up against Deku’s balcony door, just fucking watching him sleep. Good night, everyone.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through half of chapter 192 now (lol I just need more time to binge), so any ETAs will reflect that.)

so now playtime is over and they are professionally demolishing the slide

don’t act like this isn’t easily the best part of your day you psycho

Chain Chomp is volunteering to help by having his little chomps eat the ice shards

Shouto is praising him and saying that a quirk like that would shine during a disaster rescue operation

the teacher is amazed at how calm the kids have become

but Gang Orca says that the kids attitudes “reflect their evaluation of us adults”

he says that them unleashing their quirks without hesitation like that is a problem of the education system

yeah, I’ll say. I’m thinking back to Katsuki and Izuku’s chaotic middle school now, and it’s safe to say that place had a similar problem with a lack of decent quirk counseling and education. their teachers basically just let the kids go off whenever and use their quirks all the damn time. whoever was tasked with teaching them responsibility and ethics clearly fucked up in a major way

anyway, it seems these kids have now been nudged onto the proper path, and their sensei is vowing to teach them well

lol look at them returning Bakugou’s gauntlets so solemnly

so now they’re bidding the tykes farewell, and Gang Orca is appraising how they did in the assignment

“abstract challenge” lmao. A++ government trolling for sure

holy shit would you look at these disrespectful little delinquents

this is why he keeps punting them every time he sees them. he’s just desperate to maintain their attention in any way he possibly can

so the kids have changed back and are getting ready to go their separate ways

you guys I think Shouto is finally warming up to Inasa omg

like, he doesn’t look completely annoyed just by his mere presence anymore! progress

also lol at Camie pointing out that when Bakugou is keeping quiet, his manners can actually pass for decent

and then him immediately shouting at her to shut up, because GOD FORBID anyone get it into their heads that he’s actually capable of behaving like a normal, calm human person

uh oh Inasa’s going all “!” and it looks like he’s spotted Endeavor up ahead with the other teachers

Camie’s running over to them now and she’s all, “oh my god, Seiji’s talking to All Might”

and he says that they were actually talking about her

her teacher says that they’re talking about forming a closer relationship between the two schools and sharing information with each other

and part of the reason why is that they still don’t know why Camie was attacked, and it would be easier to figure out if they worked more closely with U.A.

good call there. if you want to find out more about the League of Villains, that is

maybe less of a good call if you actually want your students to stay out of the constant-villain-attacks-and-secret-traitors shitshow that U.A.’s got going on, though

so apparently they’re talking about setting up some cooperative training exercises between the two schools. ooh, that would be fun. I’m on board for this

meanwhile Endeavor is trying to casually chat up his estranged son

hoo boy this is awkward as fuck

hey here’s an idea, maybe don’t pretend like everything’s good between you and like you haven’t done anything wrong. maybe try showing some remorse or something. that’d be a good start

dammit

okay here’s the thing. I fully believe this is true, and that he’s proud of him for finding his own path and his own strength. we saw at the end of the last chapter that he was possibly starting to come to a lot of extremely belated realizations

but the thing is that Shouto doesn’t know any of that, and as far as he’s concerned, Endeavor’s still the bastard who spent Shouto’s entire life telling him “I created you to surpass All Might” in addition to the various other bastardly things

so when Shouto hears “I’m proud of you” from this man, I have to assume he’s going to take it as Endeavor being proud of how strong he’s become in terms of mastering his quirk. like, “good on you, you’re closer than ever to becoming the perfect little super soldier puppet I created you to be.” rather than “I’m proud of you for the good person you are and for the strength of character that you’ve shown today and continue to show and that you certainly never got from me”

anyways, yeah. so Shouto looks quite angry, actually

meanwhile Inasa’s watching them like

are you gonna step in and help your new best friend out here buddy

oh shit, sudden vulnerable power move from Endeav out of nowhere

oh damn

there’s a lot going on in just that one simple sentence, though

for starters, it’s an acknowledgement that Shouto is rightfully not in the least bit proud of him right now (on account of him having been a piece of shit this entire time). and then obviously, it’s also a promise to become a better person. not just a stronger person, but a better man

so, yeah. I like this. progress. finally some long-overdue steps toward making things right

(ETA: honestly, I love that Horikoshi had the nads to go for an Endeavor redemption arc after going out of his way to make him as unlikable as humanly possible. it’s like he purposely set the challenge level to the highest possible difficulty and then took a deep breath and said “okay, let’s do this.” looking back at Endeavor’s introduction and even his character profile, it’s clear he had this whole thing planned from the start, but he patiently played the long game and took no shortcuts, and all in all I’m extremely impressed.)

Shouto doesn’t look like he has any idea how to react to this, and he’s mostly just still irritated

that’s about as good of a response as Endeavor could hope to get, honestly. now leave him alone and go start improving yourself you douchebag

omg

what just happened

did he just punch himself in the face and then power walk up to the guy that he hates

what the fuck you guys

which angel up in heaven is responsible for molding this young man. what did you put in him. he’s so fucking nice. how is he so nice. why did he punch himself, that was so violent and I’m honestly very concerned. but mostly, just. WHY SO NICE GODDAMMIT

lol and now All Might is just

had enough of this weirdness, eh

now All Might is thinking optimistic thoughts about how much progress everyone is making little by little, and it’s so heartwarming

(ETA: I just wanted to add that that last panel in the bottom left is a favorite of mine. I fucking love moments when mentors are looking on at their kids proudly and the kids aren’t aware of it and so they just keep on doing whatever it was that made the mentor proud to begin with. there is such fondness in All Might’s expression here. it’s so gentle. he is so proud of them in this moment. and Bakugou isn’t aware of his hero’s eyes on him; he’s just looking back at Shouto, who he’s been getting on with to a degree that would previously have been shocking tbh. and of course we got the reminder just two chapters ago that Bakugou does know about Shouto’s history with his father, so I interpret this glance here as just him quietly assessing his classmate’s status after that chat with dad, and making sure he’s all good so he can recommence being annoyed by everything he does and making sure he knows it. and meanwhile Shouto is just caught up in his own thoughts, but just like All Might said, he is making progress. little by little he is figuring out how to move on.

just, there’s so much going on here and I didn’t even get into all of it, honestly. but basically I just got caught up in the moment and remembered how much I love this series and its characters omg.)

and now we’re cutting to class 1-A a few days later!

the narration is saying that September has come to a close and it’s now October. wow, seriously? you mean it wasn’t already?

well, I suppose that makes sense. the provisional license exam was probably set on September 1st or around then. so they’ve been doing these supplementary courses every weekend since then, so this was probably like their fourth one. one of these days I’m going to have to make a timeline, if there isn’t one out there already

(ETA: there’s actually a pretty nice one up on reddit somewhere, but I haven’t looked at it too closely yet because spoilers.)

HEY WHAT THE FUCK

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THESE FEELS YOU SON OF A BITCH!!

but also does this mean Mirio is officially back at U.A., though? because that’s good. even if he doesn’t have his quirk, it doesn’t mean he can’t still complete the last year of the hero course. he’s still gotta keep up with his studies and stay in shape

(ETA: U.A. is honestly failing their most gifted student in his time of greatest need and I’m so mad about it. what the fuck U.A.)

also THANK GOD, they ended up putting the internships on hold for the time being. THANK YOU JESUS

honestly it was the right call. let’s give these kids a break from trauma for a little while. or at the very least try to do so

and apparently Centipeder took over Nighteye’s agency and they are awaiting Mirio’s return. ;_; awww

AHHHHHHH

MY SWEET BABY

“her psychological state is still unstable” gee you think??

and this is the first time we’ve seen her without the bandages on her arms, and there are all those little scars there and I was just slammed by feels oh shit

but still! she’s safe! and getting better finally!

and they’re actually explaining about the horn on her forehead oh wow

does this mean her power is weaker now than it used to be? I honestly feel like Horikoshi’s doing a good job of keeping this in check for now. he’s made it so she can’t control it, and that excessive use of it can do her serious harm and put her in a fever coma. so for the time being, it doesn’t look like we have to worry about this becoming a deus-ex-machina type of thing

but I honestly don’t see why they can’t just give her some gloves and let her interact with people

at least Aizawa is clearly visiting her, though. maybe he can adopt her. I mean, he’s the second best dad in the series, and honestly just a dad hug or two from stealing the top place from All Might if he really really wants to. I’m just saying, Aizawa. the power is yours

(ETA: man, the Basement Arc dragged on so long that I almost forgot what it was like for this manga to give me exactly what I want. it is such a nice feeling omg. we can still be simpatico with just a little bit of effort.)

oh hey

so can we take this as confirmation that Ecto teaches math, then? so that’s him for math, and Present Mic for English. I still have Aizawa down for art unless anyone can prove otherwise

holy moly Jirou has taken her blazer off and rolled up her sleeves and is chewing on her earbud in thought

this, to me, is 1000x hotter than any skimpy boobs-showing costume Horikoshi could ever design you guys. not that I’m being all “hey look how smoking hot this 16-year-old is!” or anything like that lol. but she looks good and once again her lesbian energy is off the charts, and I’m sure that if Momo wasn’t so distracted by math right at this moment then she’d be all over that

however she is, in fact, distracted by math!

stumped, in fact. wow, seriously?

and now Tokoyami is continuing to look around the class, and it seems that his attention has fallen onto Deku. and it’s not hard to see why

YOU GO, DEKU. PUT THAT BIG HERO BRAIN THROUGH ITS PACES

oh!

SO CONFIDENT

LMAO

SO MUCH FOR THAT BIG HERO BRAIN

but did you see Bakugou’s face though omggggg

Deku can’t seem to figure out where he went wrong. huh

I don’t see why this is a big deal at all, but let’s see where this takes us!

now Ecto is dismissing them for lunch

Ocha and Iida are coming up to Deku to congratulate him for his ferocious efforts

oh?

do tell, narrator Deku

WHAT THE

first of all, somehow that nearly scared the SHIT out of me

and second of all... what

I don’t think any of us were expecting that lmao

wow, Deku is summing up both of my reactions so neatly

YOU SCARED ME! and CHEESE!? yep. pretty much covers it all

Aoyama has got a whole plate of cheese in fact, and now he’s trying to feed Deku more

Deku’s trembling slightly and says his mouth is still full

now Iida is inviting Aoyama to join their group since he usually eats alone

but he says the cafeteria doesn’t suit his tastes

is he drinking wine

(ETA: ngl, after I first finished reading this chapter I went back to this part and I was honestly wondering whether or not he was drinking blood. can you imagine. like Toga’s own fucked up form of Polyjuice potion.)

and Iida’s just letting him. wow

also that katakana is cracking me the fuck up omg

holy shit Deku, you’re fucking telling me your ominous narration was about fucking Aoyama this whole time

and now we’re visiting Deku’s room at night huh

it’s 1 a.m. and he’s still studying, wow. Bakugou has been asleep for five hours already lmao

holy SHIT????!!

-- HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS WAIT UP

because I was all 1. WHAT THE, and 2. AOYAMA WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU, and then I remembered that 3. Deku’s room is on the 2nd floor so HOW DID HE EVEN GET UP THERE

but then I went back to look at the dorm layout and remembered that Aoyama’s room is right next door, so maybe he hopped balconies like some sort of ninja

but then I was like 4. BUT WHY, THOUGH

and meanwhile this entire time I kept looking back at his creepy face and was like WHAT THE FUCK, WHY IS MY SPARKLY LITTLE FRENCHMAN SUDDENLY ACTING SO FUCKING CREEPY --

AND THEN IT HIT ME. that’s not really Aoyama, is it

it’s fucking Toga, isn’t it. it has to be. right?? suddenly acting wildly out of character and bizarrely interested in Deku in the creepiest of fashions? and then sneaking over to stare at Deku through his fucking balcony window in the middle of the night??

and on top of that, for this to happen in the very same chapter where they discussed the same thing happening to Camie? yeah. yeah, okay, manga. I got it. message fucking received

so this means that Aoyama has been captured by the League?? or is Toga acting independently? holy shit

do you hear that. that’s the sound of me being sucked RIGHT BACK IN lol. ahhhh man. feels fucking good. let’s read some more of this bitch

(ETA: lmao, there’s a part of me that honestly wishes this theory hadn’t been blown to bits in the very next chapter. for a minute there it was such a damn rush. but no, Aoyama just loves Deku and wanted to present him with some friendship cheese, and also maybe give him a friendship heart attack.)

BONUS:

nice try son, but nope

oh look, it’s Iida’s brother who’s currently paralyzed from the waist down. standing back to back with his lil bro in costume, in a way that they’ll actually never be able to do ever again. that’s just cruel, Vigilantes writer guy

not sure what’s been up with the volume extras lately. I’m really surprised we didn’t get a profile of Camie after the babysitting arc. we got one of the damn elementary school teacher, but not her, even after her quirk was revealed? did Horikoshi just forget, or did he run out of time, or is he saving it for later, or what

anyways, this is also the last batch of volume omakes that FA scanlated. so after this it’s going to be a lot harder for me to find them. I know that some of the extras from the upcoming volumes have been translated, but I might not always have time to try and track them down. so moving forward we might not have as many bonus pages, but I will still try and include them whenever I can

81 notes · View notes

welcometophu · 6 years

Text

Not Your Love Song: Chapter 18

Marked Book 2: Not Your Love Song

Chapter 18

[ Previous | First | Next ]

Rory is awake far too early on Sunday. Alaric convinces him to stumble down into the dining hall for breakfast, but Rory doesn’t bother to shower first. He just wants to go back to sleep after breakfast, when Alaric leaves for OPT.

It works for a little while.

His phone starts buzzing a little after noon. Rory would guess that Alaric just hit the road in Dax’s minivan to go home, so he’s not surprised by the onslaught. He rolls over and grabs the phone, unlocks it to find three text threads waiting for him.

The oldest is from Darrik, and Rory can’t imagine why he’d be up at just past six in the morning on a Sunday.

I forgot to text that I got in okay last night after the movie. Had a good time. Bet you’re still sleeping.

At that hour? Definitely. The nine o’clock breakfast was too early as it was.

I was, Rory replies. I’m awake now. You surviving after your late night?

While they’d seen the first movie showing of the night, their group had all gone out to Teas Please after, and Darrik had dropped Rory off at just past one before heading back to Valiant. It wasn’t all that late for Rory, but for someone who works in a high school on weekdays, it had to be past his usual bedtime.

He switches to the next conversation in the list, a little surprised that it’s just Kit and him, and not the group chat with Shane, or the larger one that includes Dax and Darrik as well.

We just hit the road. Carolyn looks like she’s going to puke. Corbin is loud and he and Drea are kind of disturbingly cute. There are two people we knew in high school going with us, and having their car behind us is like having the past on our tail.

It’s a poetic image, the idea of the past literally hunting a person down, following them down the highway. Or back roads. Rory grabs a notebook and writes it down before he sends back, Is that imagery up for grabs?

Give me a shoutout when you sing it, if it makes it that far, Kit replies.

That’s easy enough. I can do that, Rory agrees. Is Alaric bored and sulking about having to go home?

I think he’s talking to Dax about football. Why? Is he texting you, too? You guys are really good friends, right?

Like family. Rory doesn’t need to think about it, or qualify it in any way. We got lucky. I think he was dreading having to room with a Mage. I didn’t know what to expect from Clan. People are so different. There’s Alaric, and then there’s Darrik.

It’s a cue, maybe, because a notification pops up to add to the trail of texts he has from Alaric. It starts with a series of apologies for waking him up early, trails into a discussion of just how thrilled he is to be heading home, and meanders into a dry commentary on public displays of affection between his sister and his best friend. It’s easy to imagine Alaric’s voice for each of the texts, and Rory’s laughing at the end. You could just tell them to quit it, he suggests.

Do you think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many Mages are in this van? And two more in a car behind us. Drea says she talked to our parents. I don’t think it matters that they’ve been warned. It’s not going to go over well.

Do you have a plan for Theobald? Rory asks.

Yeah. I’m distracting him with politics. I have a whole printed contract with Dayton’s Clan, specific to her and me allying, not the older generations. I also want to arrange a visitation for spring break. Our whole alliance plans to meet there, including the Mages.

Rory rolls onto his back, phone held above him. That’s going to be a hell of a distraction, yeah. I don’t have to worry about him trying to kill you or something, do I?

I’m all he has left.

Rory knows exactly how Alaric says it, how lost he sounds with those words. He also knows it’s not true. There’s Drea. There are other families among their Clan. There are options. He’s not sure what, exactly, keeps Theobald from stripping this away from Alaric. But something does, and Alaric’s going to continue to push his limits as long as he can.

I’m doing okay. The message pops up from Darrik, and when Rory switches conversations there are dots like Darrik is still thinking through what he wants to say next. I had fun last night, Darrik finally sends. I like your friends. I’d say I’m looking forward to Wednesday, but I’d be lying. I am looking forward to seeing you and your friends, though.

That statement makes sense to Rory. Did you talk to Lora’s parents and the people at Sunnyview?

Not yet, Darrik admits. I did try to call her parents, but they’re out. They do brunch sometimes, so I’ll probably get hold of them this evening. I’ll let you know when everything’s set. Do you need anything special for the ritual?

Rory switches conversations, pulling up the group text with Kit and Shane and staring at it for a long time before deciding he’s not typing anything there right now and switches back to Darrik. I don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know. I think it’s going to be all Kit’s focus and me and Shane trying to supply direction, and we’ll go from there. Hopefully we can reach her.

Hopefully.

There’s nothing more than that one word from Darrik. Rory shifts from conversation to conversation, ignoring what he’s been sent in favor of looking for another reply from Darrik. When one doesn’t come, he bites his lip, tries to decide what to send back.

This was a rough weekend. Are you okay?

I’m going to be. The response comes back like he didn’t have to think about it, like maybe he was expecting the question. I’ll send you info as soon as I know it for Wednesday. And probably text you when I’m bored in study hall.

Rory smiles at Darrik’s attempt to lighten the mood. I’ll look forward to it. And keep my phone on silent so I don’t get in trouble for texting my boyfriend during lectures.

This time when there’s no reply right away, Rory lets it go.

Alaric put his phone away. I can almost feel his anxiety. He’s the one who doesn’t like Heather, right?

Kit’s text comes through while Rory is talking to Darrik. It’s been several minutes by the time Rory gets to it, but he figures that’s fine. It’s not like Kit’s going anywhere; he’s trapped in a car for at least a half an hour.

Yeah, he doesn’t like Empaths. I was just talking to Darrik. He’s going to talk to Lora’s parents. He’s not looking forward to reliving any of that mess again, but he liked you guys. So he’s looking forward to seeing everyone again.

Jess won’t be there, Kit replies. But I liked her. She’s got a lot of energy, doesn’t she? But quiet energy. Like a mountain. With freckles.

Rory has to look through his photos to find one from last night, because he doesn’t have a clear mental image of Jess, and he doesn’t remember the freckles. They’re there, though. She’s tall, broad-shouldered, taking Shane’s weight when he leans on her.

He hopes Kit never actually calls her a mountain; he’s pretty sure she’d find that offensive. But he understands the reference, that kind of solid, stable energy that lies in the earth. I get it, he replies. Did you get to talk to Serina at all today? You guys seem to be doing well.

It’s only been a week. Ish.

Rory frowns at the phone. Is that your way of saying it isn’t serious? Or that it’s not a thing? Or that it’s not working? You guys seemed good last night.

I think we’re okay.

Kit’s response comes quickly, but it’s followed by a series of dots and Rory waits to see if Kit’s going to finish the thought. He reaches for his notebook, scribbles notes to himself about the idea of the past chasing as they drive down the highway, the car close behind. What happens when you stop, and the past catches up… yeah, that’s a thought.

I really like her.

The phone buzzes to let him know Kit replied, but it’s just those four words.

I think she really likes you, Rory replies.

I know. We get along really well, and she’s fun. We talk a lot, and we make out some.

Rory winces, because this may be starting to verge into TMI territory. Not that he hasn’t handled that since Thorne hit puberty, but still. He doesn’t really think he has that kind of friendship with Kit, yet.

I like kissing her. I think I like kissing in general. Which is good, right? I’m just not sure… I haven’t really wanted to move past that. She hasn’t said anything about it, which is also good, since moving past kissing starts getting into other things. But I don’t know if not wanting more is a me thing, an us thing, or maybe it’s just life.

Rory is not qualified to be having this conversation. He wants to ask if it matters right now, but he figures it must matter to Kit, since he brought it up. And maybe it matters to Serina, maybe it doesn’t, but Rory certainly isn’t going to go knock on her door to ask.

He looks at his door like it’s about to burst open on cue. Thankfully it doesn’t, but he gets out of bed anyway, just to check and make sure the door is actually still locked.

Is it something you need to figure out right now? he asks.

No, but I

The text ends there, as if Kit was interrupted or just decided to stop, and Rory isn’t sure which it is. Alaric’s gone silent, and Darrik never responded to his last. It’s as good a time as any to toss his phone on the bed and go looking for something to wear.

Rory tosses dirty laundry into a hamper; there’s enough that he probably should throw a load in while most of the world is either still sleeping off the Saturday night drunk, or getting brunch downstairs. Apparently it’s long overdue since the only t-shirts left in his drawer are the ones he wears when he doesn’t really give a shit. And every single hoodie could use a wash, so he has to decide which one is least offensive, or else just not leave the building.

He does a sniff test and decides that not leaving the building is the right answer. Clean pajama pants, an old t-shirt, and hanging out in his room finishing up assignments and working on music. He can do that.

He takes the hamper down and separates it into two washers. He walks cautiously past Serina’s room, as if she somehow knows what he’s been talking to Kit about and is going to pounce on him with her side of the story.

When he gets back to his room, he grabs the phone and checks it.

Maybe I’m just being stupid, Kit says. If I like her, shouldn’t I want to do more? Shouldn’t I be interested in

He cuts off again in that text, but another one has already come through.

I just want to know if it’s me, or if it’s because it’s her, or if it’s something else entirely. I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and maybe it’s just a time thing.

Rory closes his door, twists the lock. Have you ever kissed anyone before Serina? he asks. He strips down to his underwear and wraps a towel around his waist while waiting for Kit to respond.

Once. In seventh grade. During one of those stupid games that I honestly didn’t believe that anyone actually played at middle school parties.

I didn’t like it. But I figured it was because he didn’t know I was a guy, so it just felt weird and wrong. Most of seventh grade felt weird and wrong. Adolescence sucked in a major way.

Rory’s starting to wonder if maybe he is the right person for Kit to be talking to. He leans back against the bed, fingers sliding over the keyboard as he types. I’m not personally a big fan of kissing. I like cuddling. There is nothing better than having another body in bed with you, honestly, but it’s nothing sexual. I snuggle people I trust. Kissing always feels weird to me, and I definitely don’t want to do anything else with anyone.

Hm. Rory imagines the way Kit’s brow furrows. I do like

He cuts off again, and Rory swallows a laugh. It’s like talking to someone who’s been bleeped out.

You can like getting off without wanting to do it with another person, Rory says, his cheeks bright red even though no one’s there to see it. Or it’s possible she’s just not the right person for you. No matter what popular media says, not every guy wants to get into every girl’s pants. And not everyone is thinking about sex all the time. Even people who like it. Thorne’s an outlier. Most people are a lot more subtle about it.

Thanks for talking to me. I know you’re not a fan of sex. I appreciate it, Kit replies.

Rory does laugh out loud at that. I am betting I’m the only ace guy you know, so I’m okay if you want to talk to me about that. It’s one of those things that a lot of guys don’t understand. And Kit? It’s okay if it’s also just because you’re anxious because of everything else. That’s something you’ll figure out. Just don’t worry about rushing it, okay?

He leaves the phone on the bed when he heads to the shower. Kit should be arriving in Haverhill soon, and Rory thinks that maybe he’s had enough awkward but encouraging conversations about sexuality.

There’s a song in that somewhere. It might even have to do with the past chasing…

Huh.

He hums under his breath while he showers, and by the time he gets back to his room, lyrics are starting to form.

[ Previous | First | Next ]

#welcome to phu #welcometophu #not your love song #phu marked #marked

7 notes · View notes

infini-tree · 6 years

Text

FANFIC: Bùkěsīyì - Part 13

prev | next

Summary: In which the Musician's Village is evacuated.

A/N: So. This is a year overdue.

Lots of stuff happened, leaving me to go on and off with this chapter. The reason why its something of a supercut of events is mostly to show the monotony of all the traveling back and forth, as well as help highlight things that deviated from all it. Also because the original version just had a lot more unnecessary stuff-- there's a whole scene cut, and another that had to be condensed.

Originally, I wanted this to be one chapter but par for the course it became two in order to give proper depth/development/pacing, so this is more of a chapter 13-a. Shifu is a character that I have very little experience in writing, AU or otherwise.

The Musician’s Village was the furthest village under the Jade Palace’s protection. It wasn’t so much a town you stayed at, so much as passed through. And those that did stay were a hardy folk that could brave whatever nature could throw at them.

Invasions, on the other hand, were another story. They were called the Musician’s Village for a reason.

Shifu breathed in the mountain air, looking at the settlements ahead lit in early morning light. Turns out, the masses had many questions regarding evacuation. Most of them regarding how. First thing’s first-- he needed to organize everyone. Everything needed to be just right for this. He looked down to a small scroll from his supply; on it was a basic procedure, some quick notes penned by him, and a map.

Past the winding trail, past the forest marked down hastily was their destination-- a town with proper walls and safehouses in case worse comes to worst.

It seemed simple enough, but he’s heard enough stories from the Five to know otherwise. He looked back up to a small group, who were looking were looking back at him for guidance. Chatter continued to ring in his ears-- there was too much of it, but he managed to catch snippets of conversation.

“-- he’s the master?” a young voice mused aloud.

“They sent just the one...” another whispered, tone tuned to gossip.

And through the panic, he heard a calmly embittered voice grumble, “Of all the-- I don't have time for this...”

Shifu cleared his throat a little bit louder than expected. The people in front of him lulled into a relative silence.

“You are the first of many groups that I’ll take down to the merchant village at the foot of the mountain.” He began to pace back and forth in front of them. “The Five have already informed the people there and are more than willing to take you all in.

“Women, children, and the elderly should be at the center. Those that don’t fit those categories should be situated around them, while I lead all of you down.”

“Er, that sounds like a lot of work for a little guy like you,” a pig with uneven tusks piped up.

Shifu opted to pretend not to hear that comment, a feat in and of itself considering his large ears. “If they’re unable to walk, get something or someone to carry them with.”

“Are you sure about that--” the pig continued, undeterred and unaware… at least until the master was face to face with him.

The red panda stared him down, shoulders squared as if readying for a battle. He had half a mind to lecture him in front of an entire village for disrupting the assembly of people, but he relented.

It would reflect poorly on the Jade Palace, after all.

Shifu took in a deep breath. Blew it out. “If you have anything to share, I suggest doing it out loud and in front of me.”

Everyone’s eyes were on the both of them. The pig had the decency to look partially chagrined.

“I get that you’re a master,” he continued. “But that seems like a lot of work for any one person. Can you blame me for being worried?”

“No need,” he said with a wave of the hand holding the scroll. “I’ve personally made the quickest possible evacuation plans, accounting for everything; walking speed, population, alternate routes--”

“But is that enough?”

Shifu stared at him, his mouth opening only for nothing to come out. He already knew that this mission had no margin for error, but those words made the failure more palpable. Made him much more aware of everyone’s existence, and how much they depended on him.

Everyone’s eyes were on him now, and they’re expecting something. As much as this was a terrible ordeal, he needed to stay strong for these people, like how the Five would be.

He gulped. No pressure.

“You have my word as a master of the Jade Palace that all of you will get out of here alive.” Shifu’s voice was noticeably slow and deliberate. “I have been assigned this mission, and I will do whatever it takes to finish it. Do I make myself clear?”

The pig pulled back his mouth and could only manage a grimace of a smile, but he nodded regardless. Even if they weren’t being directly lectured at there were others that held similar doubts in the group did so as well.

“Good.” Shifu turned around. “Now the lot of you should get ready before noon.”

“Can I ask you somethin’, master?”

The third group, thankfully, got their bearings quicker than the ones before them. Not by much, admittedly, but just enough to reach the safe town earlier than expected.

And in that reprieve, there was a lot more time for questions… much to Shifu’s chagrin.

He looked up from his planning scroll with a disinterested gaze and meeting eyes with nothing. A quick look down, and he was face-to-face with a rabbit kit that, save for the dirt clinging to her robes, was in good condition.

“Can’t you see he’s busy, Lan Min?” The father stepped forward, his entire frame shaking as he pulled his daughter back.

Shifu’s face smoothed out into something that at least seemed friendly. “It’s fine, I have a bit of time,” he said with a tone that barely masked how not fine it was, or how little time there could be.

“You’re a kung fu master, right? C-- couldn’t you just fight th’ army?”

His ears perked up at the incredulity of that. “Er-- no,” he said finally. “I could fight, but… they’re a lot of people. I would get tired.”

You would be slaughtered, his mind thought back to training sessions with Tigress.

“Oh.” The kit was silent for a moment, a sad sort of disappointment etched on her face. “Wha‘bout the Dragon Warrior? I heard there was a big, big festival an’ then he just kinda appeared.”

Shifu’s brow furrowed in frustration. Even with how far away he was from the Valley, the Dragon Warrior still taunted him-- still infuriated him. He wanted to say no, that the person they chose to be the Dragon Warrior wasn’t even that well-versed in kung fu. That it should have been any of the Five.

That it should have him.

But he didn’t have the heart to say that to a child-- especially one going through such an ordeal.

“I… don’t know,” he managed. Seeing the child’s confused face, he gave a soft smile in an attempt to mask his tiredness and disappointment. “But… I hope so.”

The kit seemed satisfied with this answer before she beamed, completely unaware. “I hope so too!”

The rest of the family shared a soft laugh at that, but before the child could answer any more questions, Shifu straightened up.

“In any case,” he said, perhaps a little too hastily. “I should get back up to the village. There’s still-- there’s still people.”

The mother had ushered Lan Min away, much to her protestations. Meanwhile, the father looked back at him, his brow furrowed. “Master,” he said finally. “I know you must hear this all the time, but… thank you.”

“It’s no problem, this evacuation is all in a day’s work.”

“I’m not talking about that,” he said quietly as his gaze shifted to his wife and kid, who were now mingling with the local villagers here.

They seemed… lighter, if only a little bit.

The buck coughed quietly before making his way to his family, leaving Shifu to stare at where they once were.

The red panda wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling, but he could ruminate on that later. He was burning daylight here, and there wasn’t much time to ruminate on what exactly he was feeling.

Days began to meld into each other. So did the evacuating villagers’ faces, although Shifu was sure that was due to fatigue. With everything that had happened, it almost felt like he had been doing this for decades as opposed to a few weeks at most.

The mists had overtaken most of the mountains, and by extension the final group to descend. Villagers trudged onward and behind the red panda, their collective brows knitted and eyes downcast.

The trek, like all the treks before it, was monotonous. Maybe that kind of thinking, Shifu surmised, came with the territory of being bedraggled.

They had barely managed to make it past the first turn of the path before someone spoke. “Er, master?” One of the villagers-- a merchant goose with his feathers in a messy topknot looked at him with concern. “Are you alright? One of us could take the lead while you rest--”

“Absolutely not.” He emphasized that point by sweeping his hand in front of him in a defiant gesture.

“I think we can stand to take a small breather.”

Shifu looked back from his position in front. Even with the blanket of fog obscuring everyone, he could see how everyone dragged their collective heels as they tried to keep up. Which, upon further thought wasn’t even a fast of a pace in the first place due to how tired he was. At this point, all of them were running on survival instinct.

With a quiet sigh, he sat down cross legged. “Just keep it short-- we’re on a schedule here.”

The collective group let out a sigh of relief, setting their packs down and took out their respective rations. Soon enough, there was quiet chatter that could even be considered as amiable. There was a faint sour scent of pickled vegetables lingering in the air as they ate and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

From quite a ways away, Shifu took a swig of water from his canteen as he surveyed the path ahead… by walking the length of it back and forth with ears perpetually perked up. For the most part, there was the din of the group behind him and the breeze blowing past the mountaintops.

Despite that, he could still hear… something under all of that. A low rumble, or perhaps--

The red panda tensed up.

The villagers nearest him took note of the sudden shift and stared at him. The goose from before approached him. “Master?”

Even through the wind and low chatter, the sound of marching released was unmistakable.

“Be quiet and follow me.” As the villagers made their way to collect their carts and such, he stopped them. “Only bring what you can carry on your back and a canteen. Everything else needs to stay.”

A howl pierced through the silence. The villagers let out a collective gasp.

There wasn’t much time to process much of anything as the sound of taut string being released echoed in the mountain range.

“Take cover!”

Hundreds of arrows flew out from the mist. Many of them had been aimed at the village, but there was still dozens coming after them.

Shifu leapt up to bridge the gap between him and the arrowfire. As each one had closed in, he had quickly struck them mid-air, quickly gaining upward momentum as they clattered onto the cliff ground around them.

Higher and higher he went, until finally he could just barely see past the cliff edge of the Musician’s Village. Through the fog, he saw a platoon of wolf archers who fell back… and were going down the same path they were currently on right now. Before gravity took over and pulled him back down, the sound of something off had caught his attention.

The sound of metal clanging against each other.

As soon as he landed, the group of villagers crowded around him. The sound of snarling was fast approaching.

“Master, what do we do?”

The red panda stayed silent as his ears began to swivel in the direction of where they came from. Far above, there was the sound of marching and things being moved around.

“Master?” Another villager said through gritted teeth.

In the bit of quiet between footfalls, he could hear a caw, followed by the clanging of metal. He knew a fight when he heard one.

“All of you need to go,” Shifu said finally. With great hesitation, he handed off the scroll he had been using for his mission to the merchant-- surely, he knew his way around a map, if not the way down. “Just take what’s on you, everything else needs to stay--”

There wasn’t time to protest as the sound of snarling was fast approaching. Five wolves cut through the mist armed to the teeth. That is to say, the only weapons they had was their teeth and claws.

The villagers stood stock still, too mortified to run.

"Just go already!" Shifu leapt in front of the final group, standing off against the squadron of wolves. "I'll buy you time!"

After a moment's hesitation, the villagers ran.

One of the wolves noticed the evacuating villagers on the far edge of the ridge and attempted to run after them. This was met with the master pulling him back by the tail and throwing the wolf back. One soldier had managed to get hit square in the face with the body of his comrade, and left them in a bewildered heap.

There wasn’t enough time to process what to do with the downed wolves before the rest of them tackled him to the ground. Shifu quickly struggled out of the grasp of one of the wolves gripping at the collar of his robes, pulled his legs in, and let loose a double kick to the stomach towards the offending wolf.

The soldier flew back into the carts that were left behind, letting out a horrible cacophony of crashing. The remaining two hunched down on all fours and attempted to pounce on the red panda once more.

Shifu leapt up at the last second, causing the both of them to collide into each other. In their bout of disorientation, he delivered a Tiger-styled jab to the both of them. The soldiers fell, their bodies too tired to continue.

For the briefest of moments, the master's shoulders heaved. His ears twitched as the sound of retreating footsteps echoed from below the mists. The evacuating villagers was safe for now, but there was still more soldiers... and by the sounds of the overhead growls coming closer, they were now suspicious at the sound of conflict down here.

Shifu took in a deep breath as he began to go back up the path into the Musician’s Village, steeling himself and following the distant noise of fighting.

Dragon Warrior or not, he was going to end this.

#mellsian fanfics #kfp generationswap au

8 notes · View notes

namjoonchronicles · 7 years

Text

Rose - [BTS] Jungkook!Au

[A/N] This was song recommendation sent into my ask, a thousand years ago, and I was going to write a one-shot based on it. I know it's been long overdue, but...I love you?

Song: Rose By Eli.

A rose by any other name, still smells as sweet. And like every other rose out there, you had thorns on you, a tough love. If he could endure the pain that comes with you, you would give him your sweet scent. And most would abort the mission halfway, because, let's face it, who would endure pain? Given a choice, otherwise.

Your line of job didn't allow you to be close to any guys. Involvement of any male species will complicate things, and slow down processes. But as usual, shit happens.

He opens doors to possibilities. Your hostage, whose name is as attractive as his face, "Jeon Jungkook," you called and he lifts his tired face from the chair you tied him up in. A poorly litted motel room. "Time to eat." You set a bowl on the coffee table in front of him, in between his lap. He wriggles his wrist, tightly bounded by phone cable, and trailed his eyes to the side and you understood. Suddenly, you felt sorry for him. "I can't untie you, it's against the protocols." You picked the bowl up and replace yourself in it's place, before you started feeding Jungkook, gently.

He peers at you, through his bangs. He slurps the soup hungrily. "How old are you." You asked him. Jungkook cleared his throat before answering. "Twenty."

He looked very young. And probably made a wrong move to the client that paid you, that resulted in his capture. They usually do. A business deal turned awry, a cruise that turned capsized, a risky move that could have taken everyone in the path, under the bus. Usually, your clients have vendettas. You don't know what happened to the people you helped capture. You don't know what happened to them, but you were just a point in between two, and you had no rights to judge whatever your clients does. You get your money, and you move on. "What have you done?" You asked.

Usually, you would refrain from asking this. It's unethical to know the motives. It gives you empathy, and gave you the rights to judge, which is not right. But you couldn't help it. Watching this helpless boy get pursued by opposing parties. "You have two money, on you. Two groups of savage people going after you, and I want to know why." You said, firmly, dabbing his lips with a tissue to clean him up. He starts slowly. "I made a wrong decision. And I'm fine if I were to be killed for it." He said, in a defeated tone. "That's not my job." You shot, lifting yourself up and turning away from him after shoving the bowl into the bin. You took off your jacket to reveal your turtleneck, burgundy colored. "If you say that you'd be okay being killed for it, you must be in deep shit." You snickered. Your pristine figure dashed across the room and you collected your toiletries.

"I helped their son escaped. And he got killed in the process." He said out, easily. "Park Jimin. The illegitimate son of the ruling president. Was imprisoned in his own basement, shut out from the world." Jungkook threw his head back. "...Jimin came to me from a link I created by accident. I didn't believe who he was at first. Until I tracked his ID and found him, through a tiny hole on the ground. The only chance he got was from the phone people left behind." Jimin reeled the phone in, and used it to connect with the internet, found Jungkook's link and sent a cryptic message, that says, "Help." Jimin finally escaped with Jungkook's help, but was shot by an assassin his own father assigned. Jungkook escaped narrowly and was on the run for months.

That's when you come in.

You could find anybody in less than a day. The two parties are indeed, the president's house and his greatest enemy. Only his opposing party had no intention to kill Jungkook, but to expose what the president had been hiding in his wake. They are bidding prices on line where you have powers to stop. The numbers are climbing and the problem was, you didn't know who's who. You can call off the bidding at any time and with Jungkook held harmless in your hostage, you get to decide. Days had passed. You spend time reading bedtimes stories with him. Bought pizzas since you got bored with instant noodles, watching movies and laughing together. And suddenly, the situation changed to you.

"What about you? You looked like you have your own story, Rose." He said.

He glanced to your wrist where a little black rose tattoo was and you smiled. "We all do." You sighed. "I chose this life because the demands of living. Illegal stuff pays a lot. And I have my own time, not stuck in a desk at nine to five pace. Pays good money too." You shrugged.

"Love life?" He asked. "None. Dangerous. I wouldn't put him through this pain. He deserved more." You pursed your lips. "You speak as if you had someone in mind, already." His face fell.

You shook your head, staring fondly at the long scar down your forearm. "He is unattainable. Our love life was doomed from the start." Taehyung dragged the tip of the blade on your skin in a combat. You let your guards down for a split second and he took the chance to wound you.

"Is your neck straining?" You asked, and massaged it, at once. Jungkook stifled a moan at your touch and suggested that laying down would be better. "Do you trust me?" He asked as you untied him. "I shouldn't but, you have to be in good shape to meet you saviour." You said. "You know which one? Is not the president?" His eyes widens.

"Rose are not a person. We are many. I have friends I can depend on." You showed him your tattoo. He relaxes at the contact of his back to the bed. Finally.

"I think Jimin would be happier up there." Jungkook suddenly start. "...Of course he will. He can get all the sunlight he wants." You wrapped him in a blanket. You took his wrist and placed a tracker, scrunching your face at him. "...Procedures." Feeling slightly sorry that you had to keep him tied up.

Jungkook filled the empty space that didn't seemed big to you back then. He gestured for you to lie next to him. And for that brief moment, you felt like a normal person, for once. It had been the happiest moment for you, in a very long time. Gazing up to his solemn and unreadable expression, he breathily said, "Let me take care of you." Then he gives you a peck, on every inch of your face. Murmuring sweet words. When his other arm rises, you activated the tracker and its magnetic features, had Jungkook's wrist plastered to the headboard, but it didn't stop him from continuing the kiss. The liplock never broke.

When the morning sun greeted you through the shades, the warmth of it glide onto your bare shoulders, rendering you awake. Jungkook was still sleeping next to you. Clothes on the floor, and you were confined in his arms, skin to skin. The light that came, revealing his golden skin, before you. You ran your palm down his chest, the marks you made on him are blossoming. You shuddered at the remembrance of how he tasted like, so you thumbed his jaws, gently, earning a groan from him. So he rolls to his back. His arm still attached to the headboard. So you deactivated it before grasping them lightly, so that it won't fall on his face. He was totally knocked out.

His wrist were reddening from the confines you placed on him all these hours, in which it revealed a barcode tattoo. And it threw you to your senses as those barcodes are not unfamiliar.

In fact, you had seen it before in someone's wrist as well. Someone who held a knife against your skin, dragged the blade along your forearm. Taehyung's wrist.

But before you could escape the bed, Jungkook kick away the remote that is used to activate his confines, and brought his hand around your neck in an instant. The walls are closing in as you coughed up all the air you should have kept inside you. You were clawing his collarbones as he straddled low on your waist, gradually putting strength in his fingers as he chokes you. "Taehyung died because of you. If you didn't love him, he would have still be alive. He tried to leave the company because of you. And for that he was killed." Jungkook hissed through his teeth.

You were belching in his grasp, trying to yank his wrist off of you, but to no avail. "If you were the Roses, we are the Thorns. But we don't want you anymore." He growled low in your ear. Your toes found the tip of the curtain and you pushed them slightly open. A shot came flying in from your colleague (always on standby), straight to Jungkook's shoulder blades. He fell spiralled to the floor, immediately. You hurried to put the T-shirt over your head and head out the motel room. You grabbed the remote and activated it. It had Jungkook pulled back to the headboard by his wrist, and allowed you to leave.

You hurried out and passed by a familiar cologne. A deep voice greeted you. "...An eye for an eye, Rose." Namjoon sighed. "Not today." You hissed.

And that was how the war between Roses and Thorns, began.

#bts #fanfic #jungkook #smut #angst #jeon jungkook #kpop fanfic #assassin au #bts jungkook #jungkook au #scenarios #one shot #bangtan fics #kpop

85 notes · View notes

autoirishlitdiscourses · 4 years

Text

Discourse of Friday, 21 August 2020

2 I think that having a meaningful discussion about one or more of the claim that it's too late to propose other text that takes a stand as Heidegger has it explicitly on why your grade—what does this in your current participation level, do you think it's too late to pick up every single one of the quarter if you are scheduled to recite because a visit to the professor thinks your paper most needs to be a productive move. Have a good job tonight. Thanks for your flexibility. You're welcome to send your lecture slideshow on Waiting for Godot or McCabe's The Butcher Boy both are a number of things going with the two of my girlfriends.

You added an extra word to line 7. Well done on this quite clearly here, while their children are constantly shown to be helpful. Again, well done! He also demonstrated that you need another copy of the emotional aspects of the list are represented by men in literary texts to a more luggage than you to get to people, or the rest of the handout yourself, and one option from section 1:1. Another would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats were visual artists, and then don't follow through on it and of Sheep Go to Heaven, too, that trying to get back to you. I also think that they will help you to talk. Well, they're on Wednesday I'll give you advice as good as a good job in most places is basically clear and solid understanding of what's going on your way into the topics that you have, effectively treated it as soon as possible after lecture. The UCSB Library's full-text Electronic Journals database Project MUSE SAGE journals The UCSB Library's full-text Electronic Journals database Project MUSE SAGE journals The UCSB Library's full-text Electronic Journals database Project MUSE SAGE journals The UCSB Library's advanced search. Where is the highest of any of these are very impressive moves. A on it. 45 is the general introduction to things that would be something that's much more punctual, but that you are not enough to make. All of these are very solid aspects of the class, but I'm not mad at any of these questions and comments by demonstrating close familiarity with the assumption that you can possibly write. I'm sorry for the edition you're quoting from, as you know what you're actually saying to each other in regard to this recording of him consenting to be successful in the scholarly mainstream, but if this is a good job of effectively engaging the rest of the division of a rather uncomfortable scene with Father Sullivan 5 p.

Good luck on your own project in order to achieve this—I'm not trying to demonstrate this to have mercilessly restructured around that, then you may contact UCSB's Title IX Compliance Office, the topic has been known to bill clients in guineas, for instance, you did a very sophisticated and interesting thoughts, and their relationship is not by any means the only one who has not scheduled to perform your own ideas. I'm glad the midterm he has not removed the price tag from his angry moustache to Mr Power's mild face and said so on the final, and nicely grounded in a single class than when you're on the final exam except that this is quite well here: you need to reschedule, or a test is scheduled from 1 to 18. I can if you run out of 150 just below 80%. Would you? Attendance and Participation I track your absences from each paragraph, sentence fragments, singular/plural confusion, fear at his wife in comparison with the course website: good reading of the text, etc. Additionally, you should definitely be there. Some particular suggestions. If you're scheduled to recite because a common hedge plant in Ireland at the issue from all sides, but I think you overlooked people in the context of conversations about Irish identity are instantiated in the wrong place, but this is the question of what you actually want to say for sure that everyone knows a couple of suggestions. Of course, let me know if you only fall short by one person who, as your main points. Organizing your discussion could have been a good job digging in to the course as a team and gave a very small textual details and building your very perceptive. Of course, the bird as intermediary between this world and the Stars I just won't see that you're analyzing.

I'm looking forward to your main points of view from the Internet, just so happens that I currently have five openings in my sections avoided and gave a sensitive, thoughtful performance that was fair to call on you second or third, although this was a TA than I had a B for the group to respond to any particular essay format has to somehow be constructed through texts that proceeds through them more quickly.

You have some good things for the quarter, and some people may get some informed ideas here, and that everyone knows a couple of ways in which hawthorn bushes often mark a boundary between this world, people have no one else has already chosen it. The other people's questions and were not born in and marked you present. I'm sorry about that. 697, p.

A-, and note that practically no points on the Philosophy of History, section, but rather because you probably just need to be refined which migrant workers? Ultimately, you'll have to accept it by adding. Again, thank you for being such a fine piece of text; carried it off with a very impressive work here, I think, meant to write your paper and turning it in terms of what I'm trying to suggest that there aren't other very strong job here. If you want to talk. Contains a think about how Joyce portrays the sexual feelings and experiences are radically re-take it to me nor emailed me to do that, in-depth manner and provided a good job of setting them next to each other respectfully during discussions, even if you can point the other, aside from a difficult way to analyze. Any college student taking a particular race is actually rather broad topics, but our wonderful email servers that the Irish are people who are as nuanced and perceptive piece here that does not fully resolve all of the passage you'll be stuck with it? If you get a productive exercise I myself tend to think meta-narrative path through your topic in more depth. What kinds of political beliefs does the opening paragraphs of a particular point by way of taking up time that you are one of your own motivations and how we react to Dexter may very well and managed to introduce a large number of ideas back from Sacramento and have moved forward even more effectively to larger-scale judgments about sex. I'll still take it, no rush I'll respond to a theoretically supportable level. Section Guidelines handout. Let's face it: it will prepare you to taking the safe path, but if there are other possible interpretations, and a half overdue on this you connected it effectively to the section Twitter stream. None of this in more depth if you have any questions. Change to attendance policy: the twelfth episode, Cyclops, in my mailbox South Hall 2635. Have a good topic, but your delivery, which is also lucid and very engaging, for a job and knee surgery.

I will be worth winnin' for freedom that ain't the silky thransparent stockings that show off for you if you start making regular meaningful contributions to discussion problem if it seems that it would have paid off, not to say that your analytical rigor of the room. Just a quick search. I'll put you down many dark rabbitholes, such as background information demonstration of why I am not sure what to tell; changed their to the smallest detail, and I really hope that the professor.

However: November 13 is totally full. I have to score less than half a second essay? That is, I felt like you were on track throughout your time and attention to the show must go on Tuesday! All of which are based on whether that's meant to be even more, I think you're on the final. I expected, and your health first and foremost, and no one else is doing so by staying in the 6 p.

Students who did badly did very well here—although I also think that it would have helped to get there, but there are a couple of days to grade all the fun under Liberty's masterful shadow; To-morrow the hour of the Western World: Chu's discussion of The Butcher Boy, and may serve a number of things well here, and your recitation/discussion assignment. It got cut a bit nervous, but rather to set next to Yeats's text, be sure that you're capable of being fair to the Catholic doctrines on temptation, which is up to your discussion a bit more about me than you expected. 5% on the midterm!

You responded effectively to larger concerns of the few I haven't graded the final. Throwing the candy was a good public speaker. One of these are of course perfectly happy to meet at a coffee shop reading and grading papers, too. 9 October 2013 We also insist that politics demands complex thinking and that you'll get one of the authors in great detail here. Give a stellar, passionate, and have a reasonable guess is that it's too late for students to review that document anyway, especially because so many other parts of your key terms, and then move to #2, who told it to move forward. Any poem at all; both seem more or less right before the other reading assignments for Ulysses recitations is over. No longer legal tender in Britain after 31 December 1960. What I suspect that much of its main claims. Here is what you are from the section, which has been read as a whole and because your writing, despite the occasional textual hiccup here and ask people to pursue the topic. Alternately, it sounds like you were quite good, thoughtful performance that was fair to the section, probably about five minutes unless the group outward from a document in a lot of important things to say that your paper comes in is the only thing preventing you from your scheduled recitation: Family death. That's OK sometimes it's helpful to open discussion about the negative sides of nationalism and neutrality—these are comparatively minor hiccup here and there are any changes made that are so stressful for you. This is absolutely still within the realm of possibility for you, but your writing is very promising … and then asking people whether they agree with you at non-trivial citation problem; incorrectly sized margins or font; use of verb tense rather complex in the novel, too, but I remember correctly that you can better succeed in constructing an argument based on the other half of the novel for your paper has that passage on page 4 and you'll get other people in the attendance or performance that was fair to Yeats's The Song of Wandering Aengus. I think, too, that there are a few things that you also gave an engaged, and talk about, exactly, by the way that shows you paid close attention to your main points out while still letting the discomfort of silence force people other than the one-half percent, you're on the section for the other group. Don't forget to bring your participation score a small number of presentations. Because she really wanted to wait for your section who was buried that morning in terrace she was excellent. If it falls flat, try moving on to present your complex thoughts in your reading of Stare's Nest by My Window Yeats, The Song of Wandering Aengus but that would need to represent them even better work on these trees in the sense of having impaired mobility; bone spavins are caused by osteoarthritis. Just a reminder that you're covering. Think about what you're ultimately proposing, as Giorgio Agamben has pointed out; if you were strong and, again, and that there are some books that I have you scheduled on 27 November or 4 December. Both of these are impressive moves. Grade Is Calculated in excruciating detail. A timely fashion in order to fully explore your own experience. Just a chance. Your initial explication was thoughtful and focused, but this would have helped, I think that you will have the overall meaning of the implications that this is my nation? Section Discussion Notes These notes are posted here. However, I think that what most needs to be a person, dropped off in my experience, if you'd like to discuss the readings explicitly to each section, and instead think about how to draw deeper into issues raised in orphanages, or Synge or O'Casey, both of you who have not yet posted, with staying within the absurdist tradition. From Arnhold Program is a good and your boost from the opening and using it. This does not take an explicit statement of what you're going to be time management you've only got ten to fifteen minutes. I've gestured toward, though, you can bridge between them having intermediate questions leading up to be caught up with something you like the poem before the beginning of section; we haven't yet fully thought around what your overall payoff will be. You picked a wonderful quarter, so if you want to do when they want to do with your paper, if I can reschedule you for being such a way to put them in some places where I wanted to talk about the amount of time that you wanted the discussion requirement. Though it's not you, with this ambiguity; you could take this into account when grading your paper there were things that interest you in the past that there are also very well require that you want it to one of the texts are also likely to have a few exceptions, listed in a more specific thesis statement at the heart of what interests you about the offer, you should definitely be there. So, I'd move into discussion of the play. Though the description of your discussion.

Volunteering to be: ultimately, I'd be happy to have a good job digging in to work harder for the actual purpose of the room to make this offer to you, and does so in a way as to let the discussion in a fairly full schedule this week I'll send you during the Great Hunger. Just let me know as soon as you plan to recite, or the historical and literary readings are quite interesting. I realize that not taking the class and the overall arc that you do not re-inscribe Gertie into the next thing what does this in 1914-1922, of course readings or issues leading up to your presentation out longer, I think you've got an interesting contemporary poet, as well. Again, you did a good idea, but keep in mind when writing September 1913, which requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one's self-characterization at several points in the novel's take on the theory of reader it assumes that you've identified this as the major, it's a reliable source some guy ranting about sociopathy in a radio interview. Just a reminder that I am happy to talk about, and this is certainly the best I can also refer you to demonstrate this to everyone who is alive, for instance, it would have involved, but will not necessarily a reason that you do well, here is to efface yourself as a group that's often been painfully silent this quarter. Hi! I think that what you're going to relate Ulysses to cubism as the student who wants to do so, probably about five minutes unless the group, and I will cut you off. Here's the email but don't yet see a different direction. Besides attendance, not to the text s involved, but has the maximum number of points 1 and see whether I can attest that this is a rhetorical move that would have helped to think about Irish identity that signals that the final exam except that this will just mean that you inform people who were getting a why you picked to the connections between the IRA and the humor that people can find out. We will then schedule an appointment with me. Professor Maurizia Boscagli has specific ties, but I think this could have been hoping for. But your readings of The Song of Wandering Aengus—6 p. Looks good to me about your health allows. What kinds of things well here, and went above and beyond. You cannot rewrite your thesis would be to make your readings sometimes fall flat because you're bright and can take the midterm helped, I absolutely understand that this would result in further disciplinary action even if you can't get it in any case, that one thing, I think, is to think meta-narrative path through your subtopics. It's all yours! I look forward to your plan, either for the quarter, I supposed I'd have to complete everything by 17 Dec so I suppose another way, and good choice to me I'll post it as 1:30 tomorrow, as it is still theoretically in range for you. If people aren't talking because they will be out of lecture on Tuesday! You also did a number of ways to do this or anything else that you have not held your grade another 5%, which would make it a better way to add compliance with that requirement this late in the Fall 2013 Anglo-Irish Nugents may very well on the section website. Thanks for all three of the song choice is a scholar's job to do more than that, if there's anything to talk to your ultimate conversational goals. Should I have a week when we're discussing the work you've already sent it on a Thursday, October 10. I've finally figured out the eighth one without grading it, but I can't imagine why he would email you to lift you naturally into the final, you'll still want people to do with the Easter Rising rebels: Wikipedia's disambiguation page for each document from IMDb. It's not necessary to have a good selection and you related it effectively to questions like these two particular pieces is a piece of elevated political rhetoric. Thanks! Among other things well, here, and cultural context of your overall points. Ultimately, what early twentieth-century, and I think that there are potentially a number of recitations, that you will go last, or turf, from a B his grade based on general claims such as information about your thesis statement? I think that having a more productive question is a don't make a specific question. Once you have a good thumbnail background to the day's reading assignment, so you legitimately crossed the line into A-range papers: Papers with substantial deviations from the opening of the twentieth century. Don't want to treat each other personally.

Just for the Arnhold Program Assistant Lindsay Thomas: The Clancy Brothers and the Troubles in Keeping Going is from page 4 McCabe TBD McCabe TBD Paul Muldoon, though. I'm not trying to suggest that you previously got on that without also pulling in the discussion could have been a pleasure to have been pushed even further. Incidentally, you did a good question. That would give you some unsolicited advice. Yes/no pass, knowing where you should put a printed copy.

Have a good job of thinking about what you're actually doing the reading yet, you've got some really perceptive readings of Butcher Boy, and that they each see themselves as being the plus and minus for each text in my paper-writer may be an indication. Think about how you're using it as soon as you should definitely be there. I do think you've got some really good reason for pushing the temporal envelope, note the recurring discussions of course grade. All in all, this was a nice plan here. I notice you.

One thing that I record your performance. It's a good student this quarter! Another student from my grading spreadsheet or have been structuring your examination of how Ireland looks, which would be the most significant thing to do this assignment. Like This One By the way; the Irish nationalism, and I think that your paper and for which I think that there are a number of important concepts for the quarter, and that you may contact UCSB's Title IX Compliance Office, the larger context of his identity entirely.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

0 notes