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instacarma0798 · 3 months

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Title: Wings of Mischief

Ship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (but only if you squint)

Warnings: background character death?

(A/N- I might make this into a full story, but have a little drabble while I get over writers block)

You sighed as you listened to the familiar sound of water drip from the ceiling in a constant pattern. Your knife twirled between your fingers, the metal now warm from use, as you waited for your hostage to wake up.

It was a red-headed woman, you think your dealer called her the Blue Spider or something, you weren't sure. Anyways, big money was involved and it seemed like fun so who were you to say no? The woman was tied to a chair, adorning a deep red t-shirt and black pants plus some sneakers. You almost wished her eyes were open, they were the most beautiful shade of green.

The woman groaned as her eyes blinked open, taking in her surroundings and you grinned. You leaned your chest against the back of your chair and draped your arms over it as the woman adjusted to her surroundings.

"Hiiii!" you drawled, "Nice to see your finally awake."

The pretty red-head glared at you as she finally gained full consciousness.

"Aww, don't give me that look," you pouted and twirled your knife once more, drawing her eyes to it.

She struggled against the restraints bounding her to the chair, metal handcuffs securing her hands and legs to it. After a moment she gave up and went still glaring at you.

"Ok so," you started to stand and walk towards her, stopping when she spat at your feet, "Hey! That was rude," crossing your arms and pouting your crouched in front of her, "Look, it's nothing personal, but you are going to make me big, big, big, money."

She eyed for a moment before grunting out, "You're new."

That threw you for a moment and you blinked wide eyes at her, "Thank you..? I'll take that as a compliment."

The woman shrugged as best she could, "Go ahead. You just aren't like other kidnappers."

"Oh it is a compliment!" you squealed, "Thanks!"

She didn't seem to appreciated your cheery attitude.

Sighing, the woman titled her head, "Have you ever thought about using your talent for good?"

You waved your hand in the air as you stood, "Meh. Good, bad those are all just labels. I prefer the term fun."

"Fun for whom exactly?" she questioned with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"Me!" you exclaimed casting your hands out to your sides in a dramatic fashion, "duh."

Subconsciously you twirled your knife between your fingers once more, the action somewhat soothing having been a pattern since you were young. You pursed your lips as you paced around the woman, noticing her fingers twitching at the cuffs around her wrists. So she was smart. Good.

"Oki Doki," you clapped your hands together, forgetting the knife and wincing when you hit it, "Ow. Anyways, here's the deal cause I like you. Imma leave, my contracto/r will be here soon. If you're gone," you shrugged helplessly, "you're gone and you kidnapped me. Deal?"

You smiled when she simply glared you at you, "Oh honey, I noticed your hands working the cuffs already, I'm sure you'll be gone by the time my employer gets here."

Snatching your duffle off of the counter on your way towards the window you turned and blew her a kiss, "Toodle loo!"

Wings sprouted from your back, ripping your clothes (dammit, you just got new ones), as you launched yourself out of the window and let the wind carry you away.

<____________>

You didn't see the woman again for a few months, picking up a few jobs here and there. That was, until you were supposed to kill this super fancy man - to be honest you forgot his name - at this super fancy party. Thus you bought the fanciest clothing you could find. In reality, you ought to buy a dress, but that just wasn't your style so you went with a suit instead.

Smoothing it down you looked in the mirror as you stuck earrings into your various ear piercings and tightened your tie. The party was supposed to start half an hour ago, so you could be fashionably late - not that anyone was expecting you.

Once you arrived, blinding lights met your eyes, disco lights, and people chattering all around. It was rather loud for your taste, but it would have to do. You sighed and got to work. Locating the man you were supposed to take out wasn't hard to do, he was an older man with greying hair and a bushy beard.

Rolling your eyes you mingled until he excused himself you took your chance. Also excusing yourself from the random woman you were socializing with you trailed after the man. He rounded a corner, heading towards his private room.

Before you could enter after him a hand yanked on your suit collar, blocking off your air, and you stumbled back.

"Hey!" you yelled, "That was ru-"

Your legs were swept underneath you, cutting off your sentence. A weight, surprisingly light, was pressed onto your hips. A pale face stared down on you as a woman pinned your arms to the ground.

You grinned up at the red-head who you had captured a few months prior, "Y'know if you wanted to be on top all you had to do was ask."

She wrinkled her perfect nose in disgust before hissing, "What are you doing here?"

Huffing you flipped the two of you over, this time you on top, "I like this better," you wiggled your eyebrows, watching her nose crinkle and eyebrows furrow once more, "I just hafta do something then I'll be outa your way sweetheart."

Giving her a wink, your pressed a small device into her side - an electrical shock flooding her body as you hopped off just in time. Brushing invisible dust off your hands you stared down at her. Damnit, you didn't think this through. Ok...where to put her? You glanced around a tad frantically before locating a random door and dragging body over and shoving her inside the random room.

"Sorry sweetheart," you whispered, "I have a job to do."

The rest of the job was easy, you killed the fancy dude - blood spilled out of his neck and flooded the white carpet, staining it your favorite color. You leaped out the window once more, your wings carrying you back to your safehouse.

<___________>

Your next meeting with the woman was, to your shock, in one of your own safehouses. Priding yourself on having rather secure houses, you were quite shocked. The woman showed up with a man who carried a bow and had sandy blonde hair.

"Hi!" you chirped despite your surprise, "I see you brought a friend this time."

You turned some bacon over from where they sat sizzling in a pan on the stove, even though it was around midnight. You held the pan up, bacon cooked and ready to eat, "You want some?"

Both humans stared at you questioningly as you plopped your bacon onto a plate and grabbed a piece with your bare hands, "No? Ok."

It took a moment before either of them could formulate a response, but it was the man who did so, "No eggs with those?"

Gasping, you placed a hand over your heart, "How could you? Are you suggesting I commit cannibalism?"

Crunching down on the bacon you giggled as both humans stared at you, perplexed once more. You waved a piece of bacon around, "Relax, I'm joking." Rounding to counter you stood in front of them with your hands on your hips, "So, what do I owe the pleasure of two SHIELD agents?" It was hard not to identify them as such, and even with your limited knowledge of the how human's worked you were able to see the emblem on the man's shoulder.

The woman pursed her lips and regarded you for exactly two breaths before she spoke in her silky smooth voice ( you refused to admit that it sounded like heaven to your ears) that had the slightest rough Russian inflection, "You're an...oddity. SHIELD wants to learn more."

You let out an exasperated sigh, "First HYDRA and now SHIELD," your lips formed a pout and you sagged your entire body, "Can I just be left alone?"

The man shook his head with a small, almost fond, smile, "Sorry kiddo, no can do," he pulled handcuffs out of his pocket, "Would it be a stretch to ask you to put these on and come with us?"

"Ooooo!" you clapped your hands together in excitement, "First, not a kid," you held up one finger before holding up another, "Second, you brought friendship bracelets? I'm honored."

The woman looked close to snapping, much to your amusement, and stated in a deadpan voice, "Those are handcuffs."

"Eh, technicalities," you shrugged in indifference and popped your last piece of bacon into your mouth, "Any chance I could get your names?"

Honestly, you didn't expect to get their names - they were most likely spies after all. Especially when the man opened his mouth but the woman elbowed his side with a glare. They seemed to have a mini staring contest before the woman sighed heavily.

"I'm Clint Barton and that's Natasha Romanoff," the man introduced, gesturing between the two.

"Great!" you chirped, wings sprouting out of your back once more.

You shook them out, a couple feathers dropping to the ground as you winced and the two stared in shock. You took their moment of stunned silence to jump out the window with a flip, your wings sprawling out and spreading wide. Distantly you could a faint, "I told you so!" causing you to giggle.

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #female reader #marvel

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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friendship-ended-with-pokespe · 4 years

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Kirby: Rescue the Friend in the Great Labyrinth! Chapter 1

Before the extra large castella, Kirby shut his eyes with rapt attention. It’s because he felt that he wouldn't be able to hold it and inhale it in one gulp if he opened his eyes. However you look at it, a castella this large, delicious-looking, and top-class is too good to swallow whole in one gulp.

He should first close his eyes, smell it......and savor it without rushing after relishing the aroma of the castella...... Kirby opened his eyes with his heart racing. The castella was shining in gold, as if telling him to hurry up and eat. “Time to dig innnnnn......!” It was when Kirby opened his mouth while on the verge of drooling. “Kirbyyyyyy!! This is terrible~!” The door slammed open and Waddle Dee came tumbling in. Kirby blinked in surprise with his mouth wide open. “Waddle Dee......?” “We’re in trouble! Hot water, Kirby!” “S......Sure. My bad, Waddle Dee.” Kirby felt a bit guilty and apologized. “I wasn’t gonna hog it all to myself. It’s just that I had only one castella......” “Come on, shake a leg, Kirby!” “Chef Kawasaki gave this to me......he said that it’s a prototype menu for his shop......and said to give it a try and tell him my thoughts, so......I......I......” “I said that we’re in trouble! Hurry up and come!” “It’s not good to try it in secret, huh. I should go halfsies for something that’s yummy......sorry, Waddle Dee! I’m glad you made it in time. I’ll split it in half from now......” “Geeeez!!! That’s not what we’re talking about!” Grabbing Kirby’s hand, Waddle Dee pulled him down from his chair. “Wha......what is it, Waddle Dee? Ah, are you going to Chef Kawasaki to get seconds?” “I said that’s not it. That guy came!” “That guy? The ramen guy? The oden guy?” “It’s not a food stand! Anyways, just come!” “But the castella......” “The castella can come later!” Pulling Kirby reluctant for the castella, Waddle Dee started sprinting at full throttle.

Where the pair arrived at was the square at the foot of Mt. Dedede. Shaped like a sailboat, a spaceship with a familiar ring is docked. Kirby’s appetite was blown away right as he laid his eyes on it. “Ah, that ship is......Lor Starcutter! You don’t mean!?” “There's just no way. That guy has shown up!” Waddle Dee pointed to the Lor Starcutter with an unusually stern look. Three people could be seen before the Lor. King Dedede is the one with a noticeably large build. The masked swordsman, Meta Knight is next him. Lastly, the one spruiking before them is...... “Magolor~!?” Shouted Kirby, and in complete contrast from just now, started sprinting with enough force to drag Waddle Dee. Magolor turned around, having noticed Kirby’s loud shout. With a hood on, his face was beaming with a smile. “Yo, Kirby! Long time no see! How’s everything?”

”Y......You......why......” Kirby stood on guard and glared at Magolor. He went through a bitter time with Magolor before. For him to show up in Dream Land as if nothing happened......he must be up to no good. “What did you come here for!? I’m not letting you do as you want! Get out of Dream Land!” “You have the wrong idea, Kirby. I’m really, really, sorry about that time. I really need you guys’ help this time!” He clasped his hands and fixed his eyes on Kirby. Kirby sealed his lips and shook his head “No can do. I’m not falling for the same trick twice. I won’t believe your words ever again!” “Don’t say that! I’m asking you here, Kirby......I want you to at least hear what I have to say.” Magolor hung his head downheartedly. “To tell you the truth......my friend is in trouble.” “......” “I want to go save him as soon as possible. But there’s nothing I can do by myself! I beg you, Kirby. Lend me your strength......!” Kirby still didn’t relax his expression. Meta Knight said, having listened in silence. “You came on a fool's errand, Magolor. There isn’t a single person that could be manipulated by your lies here.” “Don’t say that......Meta Knight......!” “Would you like to be slashed by my sword?” Meta Knight laid his hands on the prized sword, Galaxia. Magolor shuddered with fear and kneeled. “Listen to what I have to say......I want to save my friend! My best friend has been captured in the Great Labyrinth of the Mirror!” “......What? The Great Labyrinth......of the Mirror? On the verge of drawing his sword, Meta Knight, stopped his hands. Magolor said with a frantic look. “You guys know it too, right? That frightening mirror of legends......Dimension Mirror!” Kirby, King Dedede, and Meta Knight all exchanged glances. Suspended above the skies of Dream Land, the Dimension Mirror is a sacred mirror in the Mirror World. It has a strange power to reflect the desires of everyone and grant them. “What do you mean? What happened to the Dimension Mirror?” Asked Meta Knight, where Magolor said while making exaggerated gestures. “My friend has been swallowed up in that mirror! He was unable to leave the Mirror World......I’m worried to death about him......I beg you, Kirby, save him!” Kirby wasn’t sure how he should respond. He does want to lend his strength if what he said is true. But would it be alright to trust him? You see, Magolor is a smooth talker. Kirby hasn’t forgotten that he went through a bitter experience from falling for his words before. Meta Knight, King Dedede, and Waddle Dee all kept their mouth shut. As expected, none of them seem to believe in him. Magolor said in tearful voice. “......I......see......you can’t trust me, huh......” “......” “I’m the one at fault, huh......but it’s sad, you know......how could you distrust even me caring for a friend......I thought Kirby would understand my feelings......” “......Huh?” “You care a lot about your friends. If a friend you love is in danger, you’d never turn a blind eye, would you?” Magolor glanced at Waddle Dee as he said so. Kirby realized suddenly. If Waddle Dee happens to be captured by a bad guy or is in distress, Kirby would go rescue him with all his strength. Whatever the danger may be, he is sure to face it without hesitation.” “I’m the same as you. I want to save my beloved friend at all costs......!” Magolor clung to Kirby with a frantic look. Kirby’s heart wavered. Magolor may be a big fat liar, but him caring for a friend could be genuine. Similar to how Kirby cares for his buddies. Kirby couldn’t possibly trample on such. “......Got it.” Kirby nodded. King Dedede was wide-eyed. “The heck did you just say, Kirby!? Don’t tell me that you believe in this prick!” “I do. I’ll go and save his friend.” “Really!? Hooray! Now that’s Kirby, so reliable!” Magolor jumped about in joy. “Kirby, you can’t just believe in him that simply. He could be up to something again.” Waddle Dee said in worry. “It’s ok-ay! If it’s a lie, I’ll teach him a lesson when that time comes!” Kirby looked at Magolor with a frightening face. Magolor nodded many times over. “I know that! I’ve turned over a new leaf. I don’t lie anymore.” “Then let’s set out pronto. Lead me to where the friend disappeared.” “Sure thing! ......Huh? What about you guys?” Magolor looked at King Dedede and Meta Knight. Without dropping their guard, the two glared at Magolor with a harsh look. Magolor shrugged his shoulders. “You guys ain’t coming......even when Kirby’s lending me his strength?” “Hmph! I’m not a Mr. Nice Guy like Kirby. I have no faith in those words of yours!” King Dedede folded his arms and turned away. Magolor said with sighs mixed in. “I see......that’s unfortunate......although my friend is really rich and open-handed......” “......What?” “I think he’ll repay his lifesaver very handsomely......he would treat you with a dream-like banquet prepared......” “A banquet......you say?” King Dedede gulped. Magolor turned his back on King Dedede. “There’s no helping it......then the feast will be for Kirby only......I wonder if Kirby could eat it all by himself......?” “I sure can~! Whatever the feast is, I can slurp it all in one go! Relax, Magolor!” With his eyes sparkling, Kirby spun once in midair. The last bit of doubts left deep in his heart were blown off with the word “feast.” Grabbing Magolor’s hand, Kirby was ready to start dashing at any moment “Let’s hurry up and go, Magolor! A feast, a feast! “My friend comes before the banquet!” “I know that! We’ll have a feast party after rescuing your friend~!” “Hold it!” Jumping out in a hurry, King Dedede stood in Kirby’s way. “You’re gonna leave me behind!?” “Step aside, King Dedede. You don’t believe in what he says, right?” “I changed my mind, since I’m a kind-hearted king. I can’t leave a troubled fellow be!” “You don’t need to come.” “You won’t stand a chance in the Dimension Mirror without my strength!” “I said there’s no need to come.” King Dedede and Kirby got on the Lor Starcutter, as if elbowing each other out. Magolor let out a soft giggle, and suddenly shifted his focus to Meta Knight.

His attitude unchanged, Meta Knight is glaring at him quietly. “I knew that you won’t believe in me. How cold, Meta Knight.” “......” “Well, it’s fine. There’s nothing to fear with Kirby with King Dedede together. I have no need for your strength. Toodle-oo!” Magolor turned his body and quickly boarded the Lor. Leaving the grounds of Dream Land, the Starcutter was steadily rising up. Waddle Dee whispered as he looked up at it. “It’s a little fishy......I can’t trust what he says.” “It’s natural. Magolor is a liar and a wizard. There isn’t a single truth to his words.” Meta Knight said resentfully. “Kirby cares for his friends more than anymore. He took advantage of that nature of his and moved his heart. Since something like friendship doesn’t work for King Dedede, he lured him with talks of food. He led them by the nose after learning the two’s nature thoroughly. I don’t like his way of doing things.” “How awful......taking advantage of Kirby’s kindheartedness!” His face seeping with anger, Waddle Dee scowled at the Lor that was becoming smaller and smaller. “Sir! That Magolor really is fishy. We can’t just leave it like this!” “......I wouldn’t want to be involved in their affairs,” Meta Knight sighed a little. “But, as you said, I can’t leave it be. I couldn’t care for what happens to Kirby and King Dedede, but I am concerned about what Magolor is up to.” Looking up at the sky, Meta Knight glared at the Lor that became as small as a sesame seed. “Let’s go, Waddle Dee. I ask you to not let your guard down. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Magolor is the most crafty in the universe.” Turning on his heels, Meta Knight headed to the Battleship Halberd moored nearby as he said. “Right, sir!” Waddle Dee nodded firmly and followed after him.

The Halberd caught up to the Lor Starcutter in no time. Magolor and the others were right in the middle of a strategy meeting by the time Meta Knight and Waddle Dee came on board. Kirby was, of course, glad to have the two joining them, but Magolor ignored the pair. “You guys are well aware of the Dimension Mirror, right?” In the meeting room of the Lor Starcutter, Magolor explained while walking about restlessly. “That mirror has a power to project someone’s wish and make it a reality. It’s bound to be in the Mirror World, but my friend happened to get his hands on it......” “Happened to? What do you mean? How did your friend hold of the Dimension Mirror?” He questioned pointedly, where Magolor paused and turned around in an ill humour. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking......to begin with, why did you get on the Lor, Meta Knight?” “Change of heart. More than that, answer the question. Dimension Mirror isn’t someone that can be obtained that simply. Just how did he......” “Beats me. I wonder if he just picked it up? Anyhow, my friend got ahold of the mirror and showed it to me first. He’s my closest friend!” “Did you ask for anything to the mirror?” Asked Kirby. Magolor shook his head and spreaded both his hands. “I had no time for that......as me and my friend was talking, the mirror started shining suddenly, and swallowed up my friend in the blink of an eye!” Magolor shivered as if looking back that time. “I was so scared! The mirror swallowed up my friend, clouded up in pale white, and didn’t display anything at all!” “The Dimension Mirror......” “Uh-huh. I lost all my strength. I had no idea what I should do......so I decided to borrow you guys’ strength!” “Where is the Dimension Mirror right now?” Asked Meta Knight, where saying “Over here,” Magolor beckoned everyone and started walking. The automatic door opens, where a dim hall was on the opposite side. Placed in the center of the empty hall is a large mirror. It’s a mystical mirror wreathed in ornaments resembling gold-colored wings.

As Magolor said however, the mirror’s surface was fogged up in pure white. Just like a lake with its surface frozen over. Without lowering his guard, Meta Knight said as he laid his hands on his sword. “So this is the Dimension Mirror? It does look like it on the surface, but......I can’t sense the mystical power that that mirror is sure to have. That’s funny......” “But it did swallow up my friend!” Magolor drew his body back in a terrified manner. “I had no idea what I should do, so......I at least brought the mirror here.” “Your friend is trapped inside this mirror, huh.” Kirby trotted up to the mirror. Waddle Dee warned him in a hurry. “Be careful, Kirby! It’s not safe to approach it carelessly!” “No problemo! Looks like its power is gone, just as Meta Knight said. I can’t feel anything.” Kirby peered into the mirror. The white, foggy mirror isn’t reflecting anything. “This isn’t a mirror but a white plate of glass in this way......I wonder what happened to the Dimension Mirror......” Kirby gently laid his hands on the surface of the mirror. Just then: The foggy mirror regained its sparkle in no time. Kirby’s surprised face was reflected in the mirror. “Hu......Huh? The mirror is......?” Kirby raised his voice in astonishment. Simultaneously, as if being pulled by his display in the mirror, Kirby was dragged into the mirror! “Ahhhhh!?” Kirby’s shout was cut off in the middle. “Kirby!?” By time Waddle Dee screamed, Kirby was nowhere in sight. Meta Knight muttered in blank amazement. “What is the meaning of this......is the Dimension Mirror asking for Kirby’s strength? Just why......” Magolor jumps up and shouts aloud. “This is awful! This is the same as the time with my friend! My friend was also engulfed by the mirror like this! Is Kirby all right? I’m worried to death!” “......You seem quite happy for what you’re saying, Magolor.” Meta Knight pointed out, where Magolor shook his head in haste. “What’re you saying? That’s not what is. Shake a leg, everyone! You’ve got to save Kirby!” “Hmph, you're not the boss of me! You go first since you said it!” King Dedede seized Magolor firmly by the neck and flung him forcefully at the mirror. “Eh......wahhhhh!? What are you doing, you hooligan!!!!!?”

Magolor vanished, as if being swallowed up by the mirror. Dusting his hands, King Dedede went towards the mirror as well. Waddle Dee spoke to him nervously. “Your Highness, are you going to jump into this mirror......?” “You betcha. I can’t stand the thought of Kirby hogging the feed all to himself. You can stay here, Waddle Dee. You won’t be of any use anyways.” “No, I’ll go too, sir! I’m worried for Kirby......” Waddle Dee realized suddenly and buttoned his lips in mid-sentence. King Dedede glanced down at Waddle Dee. “Worried? What’d you mean?” “N......No......that’s......” “I had a feeling it was fishy for quite a while now. You wouldn’t happen to have got along with Kirby behind my back, did you......?” “N-No way! I meant that......I’m worried about Kirby hogging the feast all to himself!” “You mean it?” “Of course, sire. Kirby is my enemy! That jerk dares to rise against Your Majesty!” “Good, good, there you go.” His suspicion cleared, King Dedede turned back to the mirror. Waddle Dee sighed in relief. Waddle Dee and Kirby are very close with each other, but that’s a secret to the king. Dedede sees Kirby as a rival and would bicker with him one way or another. He’s bound to burst enough blood vessels to destroy Castle Dedede if he finds out that he and Kirby are actually friends. (Since it’s Kirby we’re talking about, I have faith that he’s all right......but just don’t get hurt!) Waddle Dee prayed secretly in his heart. King Dedede looked back at Meta Knight behind him. “What are you gonna do, Meta Knight?” “It can’t be helped. I’ll go with you.” “Hmph, I won’t let you have the feeds even if you follow me!” “Don’t lump me with you. I only wish to shed some light on the mirror.” Meta Knight swiftly rushed into the mirror with the word. As though losing to him means trouble, King Dedede also plunged into the mirror in a hurry. Waddle Dee cannot resist either. Though he couldn’t help but be scared, he shut his eyes and boldly ran into the mirror.

Next chapter

Table of contents

#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #kirby #waddle dee #king dedede #meta knight #magolor

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lushscreamqueen · 3 years

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CARNIVAL OF SOULS on the Schlocky Horror Picture Show

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Hello, good evening, and welcome to the Schlocky Horror Picture Show. I'm your host, Nigel Honeybone. If you look up Sleeper or Cult in any good movie dictionary, you'll find tonight's presentation. Yes, we have for your bemusement a 1962 chiller that many film fans often mention as one of their own personal discoveries, and an inspiration to generations of low-budget film-makers, Carnival...Of...Souls! Oooo woooo hoooo... BREAK: From the blackest pits of Hell, insatiable evil creeps forth to claim your minds and souls! Then after the ads we'll be right back with The Schlocky Horror Picture Show and Carnival...Of...Souls! MIDDLE: Welcome back to the Schlocky Horror Picture Show, and me, Nigel Honeybone. Carnival Of Souls was made for only $30,000 in Lawrence, Kansas and around Salt Lake City by the enigmatic Herk Harvey. This creepy cult horror stars Candace Hillgoss, an actress imported from New York, so she already feels alienated. She plays Mary Henry, the lone survivor of the car crash we saw in the prologue. You notice no one seems to question why it takes her a few hours to be found on the riverbank? So, Mary goes to Salt Lake City where she has accepted a job as church organist. Where ever she goes, she sees a death-like figure who seems to be pursuing her. She also finds herself being strangely drawn to a deserted dark carnival. The director and lead ghoul Herk Harvey never made another film, making it even more of a cult item. Carnival Of Souls has a lot of clever creepy scenes, like when Mary can't hear anything, silent and invisible to the people around her, getting on a bus only to find it full of ghouls, witnessing the Dance Of The Dead at the pavilion and of course, the finale. But rather than being a straight horror film, it delivers a message similar to the one in Invasion Of The Body Snatchers about how we are turning into pod people. Mary is such a passive, uninvolved and completely soul-less character. She has no religious convictions, no interest in men, no desire for friendship, she never really feels alive. Director Herk Harvey and screenwriter John Clifford don't really seem to blame her for withdrawing from society. Her male neighbour is a lecherous pig, her landlady is a nosey bitch, and her priest employer casts her from the church for playing gloomy music. Even her own doctor makes accusing remarks. Obvious inspirations beside Invasion Of The Body Snatchers include The Twilight Zone episodes Death Ship and The Hitchhiker, but remember Carnival Of Souls pre-dates George Romero's Night Of The Living Dead, the pilot episode of the great Australian anthology series The Evil Touch, and it almost definitely scared the pants off of director M. Night Shamalana-ding-dong as a child. And it's with that image in mind we now return you to the atmospheric horror that is...Carnival...Of...Souls! CLOSING: Well, what do you know, she's been dead all along! Maybe the moral of this story is Live While You're Alive, or Soft Words Butter No Parsnips, or something like that. Anyway, please join me next week when I burst your blood vessels with another terror-filled excursion to the dark side of the Public Domain on...The Schlocky Horror Picture Show. Toodles!

by Lushscreamqueen

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

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Runaway - Part Eighteen

~Masterlist~

Concept: Hazel Richards is a twenty-year-old woman living in London. When she meets a mysterious time-travelling alien known only as the Hunter, she’s thrust into a world of wonder she could only have imagined.

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

"You know the Hunter," the nearest Dalek to Hazel stated, swivelling to face her. "You understand her. You will predict her actions."

"I don't know," Hazel told it. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Predict! Predict! Predict!" the Dalek ordered.

"TARDIS detected in flight."

"Launch missiles. Exterminate!"

"You can't!" Hazel protested, her eyes widening. "The TARDIS hasn't got any defences. You're going to kill her!"

The Dalek looked at her. "You have predicted correctly."

***

"We've got incoming!" Jack announced, seeing the missiles on the monitor. They struck the TARDIS, but inside, they felt little more than a minor jolt. He grinned. "The extrapolator's working. We've got a fully functional forcefield. Try saying that when you're drunk."

The Hunter smiled at him from across the console. "And for my next trick." She materialised the TARDIS around Hazel, trying not to get any Daleks too. As it was, only one was in the TARDIS. "Haze, get down! Get down, Haze!"

Hazel hit the deck, and the Dalek's head and body swivelled round to look at the Hunter. "Exterminate!" She ducked, making it miss, and Jack took it out with his Defabricator.

"You did it," Hazel breathed, hugging the Hunter tightly. "Feels like I haven't seen you in years."

"I told you I'd come and get you," the Hunter reminded her.

"Never doubted it," Hazel smiled.

"I did," the Hunter admitted, pulling back to look her over. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You?"

The Hunter blew out a breath shakily. "Been better."

"Hey, don't I get a hug?" Jack complained.

Hazel grinned. "Oh, come here!"

"I was talking to her," Jack joked, but hugged her. "Welcome home, Jules."

"Oh, I thought I'd never see you again," Hazel sighed, grinning.

Jack scoffed. "Oh, you were lucky. That was just a one shot wonder. Drained the gun of all its power supply. Now it's just a piece of junk." He tossed the Defabricator aside, and they went over to the Hunter, who was watching the smoking remains of the Dalek wistfully.

"You said they were extinct," Hazel said, putting her hand on her arm. "How comes they're still alive?"

"One minute they're the greatest threat in the universe, the next minute they vanished out of time and space," Jack added.

"They went off to fight a bigger war," the Hunter told him. "The Time War."

Jack's eyes widened. "I thought that was just a legend."

The Hunter shook her head, putting her hand over Hazel's. "I was there. The war between the Daleks and the Time Lords, with the whole of creation at stake. My people were destroyed, but they took the Daleks with them. I almost thought it was worth it. Now it turns out they died for nothing."

Hazel bit her lip. "There's thousands of them now. We could hardly stop one. What're we going to do?"

There was a long pause in which none of them said a word. Hazel and Jack were waiting for the Hunter to think of something, hoping she could save them. The Hunter was watching them with wide eyes, wondering how these two beautiful, brilliant humans were so prepared to fight a losing battle with her. Barely a year ago, Hazel had been a normal human girl, living with a man who wasn't even really her brother. Not six months ago, Jack had been a coward, a conman, a crook. And now the pair of them were stepping up to try and save the world, maybe even the universe, against a race of creatures thriving on hate and murder. It was a losing battle, but there was no one else she'd rather fight it with. If only Apollo were there to make it even better.

She took a deep breath, then grinned at them. "No good stood round here chin-wagging. Human race, you'd gossip all day. The Daleks have got the answers. Let's go and meet the neighbours."

Hazel's eyes widened as the Hunter headed for the door. "You can't go out there!"

"Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

The Hunter stepped out of the TARDIS, rolling her eyes as the Dalek rays were stopped by the extrapolator forcefield. "Seriously? Is that it? Useless! Nul points." She turned around and beckoned Hazel and Jack out. "It's all right, come on out. That forcefield can hold back anything."

"Almost anything," Jack corrected, then winced at the look the Hunter shot him.

"Gee, Jack, I wonder what it was I wasn't going to tell them? Oh, wait."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the Daleks. "Do you know what they call me in the ancient legends of the Dalek Homeworld? The Bringer of Darkness. You might've removed all your emotions but I reckon right down deep in your DNA, there's one little spark left, and that's fear. Doesn't it just burn when you face me? So tell me. How did you survive the Time War?"

"They survived through me." The lights came on to reveal a giant opened Dalek casing, the inner one-eyed mutant sitting as if on its throne.

"Haze, Captain, this is the Emperor of the Daleks," the Hunter introduced, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

"You destroyed us, Hunter. The Dalek race died in your inferno, but my ship survived, falling through time, crippled but alive," the Emperor stated.

"I get it," the Hunter nodded.

"Do not interrupt."

The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "I think you're forgetting something. I'm the Hunter, and if there's one thing I can do, it's talk. I've got five billion languages, and you haven't got one way of stopping me. So if anybody here's going to be shutting up, it's you!" She smirked as the Daleks backed away. "So, where were we?"

"We waited here in the dark space, damaged but rebuilding," the Emperor explained. "Centuries passed, and we quietly infiltrated the systems of Earth, harvesting the waste of humanity. The prisoners, the refugees, the dispossessed. They all came to us. The bodies were filtered, pulped, sifted. The seed of the human race is perverted. Only one cell in a billion was fit to be nurtured."

"So you created an army of Daleks out of the dead," the Hunter realised, disgusted.

"That makes them half human," Hazel pointed out.

"Those words are blasphemy!" the Emperor decreed.

"Do not blaspheme."

"Everything human has been purged. I cultivated pure and blessed Dalek," the Emperor stated.

The Hunter frowned. "Since when did the Daleks have a concept of blasphemy?"

"I reached into the dirt and made new life. I am the God of all Daleks!"

"Worship him."

"They're insane," the Hunter realised. "Hiding in silence for hundreds of years, that's enough to drive anyone mad. But it's worse than that. Driven mad by your own flesh. The stink of humanity. You hate your own existence. And that makes them more deadly than ever. We're going."

"You may not leave my presence," the Emperor forbade.

"Toodle-oo!" the Hunter waved, then shut the door behind her, Hazel, and Jack. She leant her forehead against the door for a long moment, sighing. She looked down as a hand slipped into hers, and managed a smile, squeezing gently.

***

"Turn everything up!" the Hunter ordered as soon as she exited the TARDIS on Floor Five Hundred. "All transmitters full power, wide open. Now! Do it!"

"What does this do?" Pavale asked, even as he did as told.

"Stops the Daleks from transmatting on board," the Hunter replied. "How did you get on? Did you contact Earth?"

Pavale bit his lip. "Well, we tried to warn them, but all they did was suspend our license because we stopped the programmes."

The Hunter sighed. "And the planet's just sitting there, defenceless." She blinked, seeing a familiar blonde working at a console to up the transmitters. "Lynda, what're you still doing on board? I told you to evacuate everyone."

"She wouldn't go," Pavale muttered.

Lynda blushed. "Didn't want to leave you."

Another woman scoffed. "There weren't enough shuttles anyway, or I wouldn't be here. We've got about a hundred people stranded on Floor Zero."

Pavale blanched looking at his computer screen. "Oh my God. The Fleet is moving. They're on their way."

The Hunter sprung into action, talking as she started building something, pulling things out of the conduits to make it with. "Dalek plan. Big mistake, because what have they left me with? Anyone? Anyone? Oh, come on, it's obvious. A great big transmitter. This station. If I can change the signal, fold it back, sequence it, anyone?"

Jack's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding."

"Give the man a medal!"

"A Delta Wave?" Jack asked.

The Hunter grinned. "A Delta Wave!"

Hazel frowned. "What's a Delta Wave?"

"A wave of Van Cassadyne energy," Jack replied. "It fries your brain. Stand in the way of a Delta Wave and your head gets barbequed."

"And this place can transmit a massive wave," the Hunter added. "Wipe out the Daleks!"

"Well, get started and do it then," Lynda encouraged.

The Hunter bit her lip. "Trouble is, wave this size, building this big, brain as clever as mine, should take about...ooh, three days? How long till the Fleet arrive?"

"Twenty two minutes," Pavale answered, blanching.

***

Jack stood up a while later after helping the Hunter to start building the basics of the Delta Wave. "We've now got a forcefield so they can't blast us out of the sky, but that doesn't stop the Daleks from physically invading."

"Do they know about the Delta Wave?" Pavale asked.

"They'll have worked it out at the same time," Jack confirmed. "So, they want to stop the Hunter. That means they've got to get to this level, Five Hundred. Now, I can concentrate the extrapolator around the top six levels, Five Hundred to Four Ninety Five. So they'll penetrate the station below that at level Four Ninety Four and fight their way up."

"Who are they fighting?" Pavale questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Us," Jack deadpanned.

Pavale sighed. "And what are we fighting with?"

"The guards had guns with bastic bullets," Jack replied. "That's enough to blow a Dalek wide open."

"There's five of us," one woman protested.

"Haze, you can help me," the Hunter requested hastily. "I need all these wires stripping bare."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Right, now there's four of us."

"Then let's move it," Jack ordered. "Into the lift. Isolate the lift controls." Pavale and his colleague ran off, leaving just Jack, Lynda, the Hunter, and Hazel.

"I just want to say, well, thanks, I suppose, and I'll do my best," Lynda said, shrugging.

"Me too," the Hunter agreed. They shook hands, and she went to the lifts.

Jack sighed, looking between them. "It's been fun, but I guess this is goodbye."

"Don't talk like that," Hazel told him. "Artie's going to do it. You just watch her."

He hugged her. "Jules, you are worth fighting for." He kissed her, making her roll her eyes. Then he moved onto the Hunter, who made an effort to smile. "Wish I'd never met you, Queenie. I was much better off as a coward." He kissed her, too. He laughed a little as he pulled back, seeing the way they were both looking at him, like they couldn't bear him to go. "See you in hell." He jogged off, knowing that if he stayed any longer, they'd persuade him not to go.

Hazel bit her lip. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

The Hunter sighed, watching him go. "I hope so."

***

Jack climbed up to stand on a pile of crates on Floor Zero, firing a machine gun into the air to get everyone's attention. "One last time! Any more volunteers? There's an army about to invade this station. I need every last citizen to mount a defence."

"Don't listen to him!" Rodrick shouted. "There aren't any Daleks. They disappeared thousands of years ago."

"Thanks," Jack nodded as one of the workers volunteered. "As for the rest of you, the Daleks will enter the station at Floor Four Ninety Four and as far as I can tell, they'll head up, not down. But that's not a promise. So here's a few words of advice. Keep quiet. And if you hear fighting up above, if you hear us dying, then tell me that the Daleks aren't real. Don't make a sound." He turned back to his team, jumping down off the box. "Let's go." They got into the lift.

***

"Suppose..." Hazel began, then shook her head, going back to the wires she was stripping.

"What?" the Hunter asked, making connections to build the wave.

"Nothing."

The Hunter glanced up at her. "You said suppose."

"No, I was just thinking," Hazel shrugged. "I mean, obviously you can't, but you've got a time machine. Why can't you just go back to last week and warn them?"

"As soon as the TARDIS lands in that second, I become part of events, stuck in the timeline," the Hunter explained.

Hazel nodded, sighing. "Yeah, thought it'd be something like that."

"There's another thing the TARDIS could do," the Hunter suggested. "She could take us away. We could leave. Let history take its course. We could go to Marbella in 1989."

"Yeah, but you'd never do that," Hazel pointed out.

"No, but you could ask." The Hunter smiled at Hazel's surpised expression, shaking her head. "Never even occurred to you, did it?"

"Well, I'm just too good," Hazel shrugged, grinning.

The Hunter looked up as a computer bleeped. "The Delta Wave's started building. How long does it need?" She ran over to the console, Hazel following, unable to make sense of what was on screen.

"Is that bad?" she asked, then caught sight of the Hunter's pale expression. "Okay, it's bad. How bad is it?"

"Hazel Norton, you're a genius!" the Hunter declared suddenly. "We can do it. If I use the TARDIS to cross my old timeline..." She pretended to think, then grinned. "Yes!" She ushered Hazel into the TARDIS and pointed to a lever. "Hold that down and keep it in position."

Hazel did so, grinning at her enthusiasm. "What's it do?"

"Cancels the buffers," the Hunter lied. "If I'm very clever - and I'm more than clever, I'm brilliant - I might just save the world." She paused. "Or rip it apart."

"I'd go for the first one," Hazel said, making a face.

"Me too," the Hunter admitted, grinning. "Now, I've just got to go and power up the Game Station. Hold on!" She ran out, and stopped, the doors swinging shut behind her. She buzzed her sonic screwdriver and the engines started.

"Art, what're you doing?" Hazel called from inside. "Can I take my hand off? It's moving." There was a banging on the door. "Artie, let me out! Let me out! Artie, what've you done?" The Hunter closed her eyes briefly as the TARDIS dematerialised. At least she was safe.

***

Inside, Hazel whipped around as she heard a familiar voice, only to curse when she saw the Hunter was just a hologram. "This is Emergency Programme One. Hazel, please, listen, this is important. If this message is activated, then it can only mean one thing. We must be in danger. And I mean fatal. I'm dead or about to die any second with no chance of escape."

"No!" Hazel cried.

"And that's okay," the Hunter smiled. "Hope it's a good death. But I promised to look after you, and that's what I'm doing. The TARDIS is taking you home."

"I won't let you!" Hazel started fiddling with the controls, to no effect.

"And I bet you're fussing and moaning now. I'm flattered, really, I am. But hold on and just listen a bit more. The TARDIS can never return for me. Emergency Programme One means I'm facing an enemy that should never get their hands on this machine. So this is what you should do. Let the TARDIS die. Just let this old box gather dust. No one can open her. No one'll even notice her. Let her become a strange little thing standing on a street corner. And over the years, the world'll move on, and the box will be buried. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, just one thing." And the hologram suddenly turned so the Hunter was staring directly into Hazel's eyes, and the human girl saw something in her eyes stronger than anything she'd ever seen before. "Have a good life. Do that for me, Haze. Have a fantastic life." The hologram flickered out, and Hazel made a noise like a strangled cat.

"You can't do this to me!" she shrieked. "You can't! Take me back! Take me back!" She looked up as the engines stopped. "No!" She ran outside, only to see the Powell Estate, then ran back in. "Come on, fly! How do you fly? Come on, help me!" Eventually, she gave up and slumped against the outside of the box, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"I knew it!" Mike shouted, running up to her. "I was all the way down Clifton Parade, and I heard the engines. I thought, there's only one thing that makes a noise like that." He paused, noticing her distress. "What is it?"

She just buried her head in her arms, crying her heart out.

***

"Jules, I've called up the internal laser codes," Jack called through the comms system, making the Hunter look up from her work to the viewscreen he was on. "There should be a different number on every screen. Can you read them out to me?"

"She's not here," the Hunter told him.

Jack groaned. "Of all the times to take a leak. When she gets back, tell her to read me the codes."

"She's not coming back," the Hunter shook her head, looking away.

He frowned. "What do you mean? Where'd she go?"

"Just get on with your work," she ordered.

"You took her home, didn't you," he realised.

She nodded, meeting his eyes. "Yeah."

"The Delta Wave, is it ever going to be ready?" Jack asked.

The Dalek Emperor appeared on a second viewscreen. "Tell him the truth, Hunter. There is every possibility the Delta Wave could be complete, but no possibility of refining it. The Delta Wave must kill every living thing in its path, with no distinction between human and Dalek. All things will die by your hand."

"Queenie, the range of this transmitter covers the entire Earth," Jack warned.

"You would destroy Daleks and Humans together," the Emperor sneered. "If I am God, the creator of all things, then what does that make you, Hunter?"

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "There are colonies out there. The Human Race would survive in some shape or form, but you're the only Daleks in existence. The whole universe is in danger if I let you live. Do you see, Jack? That's the decision I've got to make for every living thing. Die as a human, or live as a Dalek." She met his eyes. "What would you do?"

Jack hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "You sent her home. She's safe. Keep working."

"But she will exterminate you!" the Emperor exclaimed.

Jack smirked. "Never doubted her. Never will." He ended the transmission.

"Now you tell me, God of all Daleks, because there's one thing I never worked out," the Hunter admitted. "The words Bad Wolf, spread across time and space, everywhere, drawing me in. How'd you manage that?"

"I did nothing," the Emperor told her.

"Oh, come on, there's no secrets now, your worship," she goaded.

"They are not part of my design. This is the Truth of God," it stated.

The Hunter swallowed, moving her gaze to the Bad Wolf Corporation sign on the wall. What are you, Bad Wolf?

***

Jason and Mike were eating their meals out of the polystyrene containers they had been sold them in at a café, keeping Hazel company.

"And it's gone up market, this place," Jason was saying. "They're doing little tubs of coleslaw now." He made a face. "It's not very nice. It tastes a bit sort of clinical."

"Have you tried that new pizza place down Minto Road?" Mike suggested.

"What's it selling?" Jason asked, eyeing Hazel worriedly.

"Pizza," Mike deadpanned.

"That's nice," Jason nodded. "Do they deliver?"

"Yeah."

Jason sighed. "Oh, Haze, have something to eat, please."

She scowled, making no efforts to conceal the tear tracks on her face. "Two hundred thousand years in the future, she's dying, and there's nothing I can do."

"Well, like you said, two hundred thousand years," Jason shrugged. "It's a way off."

"But it's not," Hazel protested. "It's now. That fight is happening right now, and she's fighting for us, for the whole planet, and I'm just sitting here eating chips!"

Jason shook his head. "Listen to me. God knows I have hated that woman, but right now, I love her, and do you know why? Because she did the right thing. She sent you back to me."

"But what do I do every day, Jace? What do I do?" Hazel asked. "Get up, catch the bus, go to work, come back home, eat chips, and go to bed? Is that it?"

"It's what the rest of us do," Mike pointed out.

"But I can't!" she protested.

"Why, because you're better than us?" he raised his eyebrows.

"No, I didn't mean that," she said quickly. "But it was... It was a better life. And I don't mean all the travelling and seeing aliens and spaceships and things. That don't matter. Artie showed me a better way of living your life." She nudged Mike. "You know, she showed you too. That you don't just give up. You don't just let things happen. You make a stand. You say no. You have the guts to do what's right when everyone else just runs away, and I just can't -" She suddenly jumped to her feet and ran out of the café, tears brimming over.

***

"Right, Lynda, you are my eyes and ears," Jack stated, flashing a smile even though he knew she couldn't see him. "When the Daleks get in, you can follow it on that screen and report it to me."

"Understood," Lynda nodded.

"They'll detect you, but the door's made of Hydra Combination. It should keep them out," Jack told her.

"Should?" she echoed.

"It's the best I can do," he winced. "How long till the Fleet arrives?"

"They've accelerated," Pavale replied.

Jack bit his lip. "This is it, ladies and gentlemen. We are at war!"

***

"You can't spend the rest of your life thinking about the Hunter," Mike tried, sitting next to Hazel near the Powell Estate.

"But how do I forget her?" Hazel asked, sniffing.

"You've got to start living your own life," he advised. "You know, a proper life, like the kind she's never had. The sort of life that you could have with me."

Hazel looked away, shaking her head, then her eyes widened as she saw 'BAD WOLF' graffitied across the tarmac of the play area. "Over here," she whispered. "It's over here as well!"

"That's been there for years," Mike told her dismissively. "It's just a phrase. It's just words."

"I thought it was a warning," Hazel continued, ignoring him as she wiped her cheeks impatiently, a smile beginning to blossom on her face. "Maybe it's the opposite. Maybe it's a message. The same words written down now and two hundred thousand years in the future. It's a link between me and Artie. Bad Wolf here, Bad Wolf there."

Mike shook his head. "But if it's a message, what's it saying?"

"It's telling me I can get back," Hazel realised, starting to grin. "The least I can do is help her escape." She ran back into the TARDIS, Mike at her heels. "All the TARDIS needs to do is make a return trip. Just reverse."

"Yeah, but we still can't do it," Mike pointed out.

"Artie always said the TARDIS was telepathic. This ship is alive. She can listen," Hazel explained.

"Yeah, well, she's not listening now, is she?" Mike shrugged.

"We need to get inside," Hazel decided. "Last time I saw you, with the Slitheen, this middle bit opened and there was this light, and Artie said it was the heart of the TARDIS. If we can open it, I can make contact. I can tell her what to do."

"Hazel," Mike said quietly.

"Hmm?" She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"If you go back, you're going to die," he said.

She bit her lip. "That's a risk I've got to take, because there's nothing left for me here."

"Nothing?" Mike checked.

"Not without her," Hazel shook her head.

Mike was silent for a minute, then nodded. "Okay, if that's what you think, let's get this thing open."

***

"Okay, activate internal lasers," Jack ordered. "Slice them up."

"Defences have gone offline," Lynda reported. "The Dalek's have overridden the lot." She winced as she heard the firing of guns, then a woman screaming out in pain as she died.

***

Mike had fastened a heavy chain to the tow hitch on his Mini, with the other end attached to the TARDIS console. He drove forwards slowly, trying to pull it open.

"Faster!" Hazel encouraged.

"Come on!" Mike growled.

"It's not moving!" Hazel called. Suddenly, the chain snapped, and she kicked the console on frustration.

***

"Advance guard have made it to Four Ninety Five," Lynda reported.

"Jack, how're we doing?" the Hunter asked.

"Four Ninety Five should be good," Jack shrugged. "I like Four Ninety Five."

The Anne Droid destroyed a few Daleks, but then its head was shot off and it deactivated.

"They're flying up the ventilation shafts," Lynda stated, then gasped. "No, wait a minute. Oh my God. Why're they doing that? They're going down." She heard screams through the comms, and turned off the sound from the bottom floor. "Floor Zero," she whispered. "They killed them all."

***

"It was never going to work, sweetheart," Jason soothed, his arm around Hazel as she wept in the jump seat. "And the Hunter knew that. She just wanted you to be safe."

"I can't give up," Hazel wept.

"Lock to door," Jason urged. "Walk away."

"I can't!" Hazel insisted. "I... I think I love her."

Jason froze. "What do you mean?"

"She took me to see Mum and Dad, back before it all went to shit," Hazel told him. "And I - I couldn't deal with it and I just broke down, and - and she could have just left me alone, but she came and comforted me and held me till I fell asleep and I just realised - she's been doing it all along, looking after me, and I never recognised it or anything, but I just love her!" She sniffed, wiping her cheeks. "I can't just leave her there to die!"

"She was saving your life!"

"Why won't you let me save hers?!" Hazel shot back.

Jason looked at her, his eyes wide. "Because she and I have an agreement that you come first." He stormed out, leaving her staring after him.

***

"Lynda!" the Hunter called. "What's happening on Earth?"

"The Fleet's descending," Lynda replied. "They're bombing whole continents. Europa, Pacifica, the New American Alliance. Australasia's just gone."

***

Mike sighed, biting his lip as Hazel came out of the TARDIS, her face tearstained. "There's got to be something else we can do."

"Maybe Jace was right," Hazel sighed, wiping a hand over her face. "Maybe we should just lock the door and walk away."

"I'm not having that," Mike decided, shaking his head. "I'm not having you just, just give up now. No way. We just need something stronger than my car. Something bigger." He turned, and his eyes widened. "Something like that!" Hazel turned to follow his gaze, and they were both confronted with a big yellow recovery truck coming round the corner.

Jason got out, handing the keys over. "Right, you've only got this until six o'clock, so get on with it."

Hazel's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "Jace, where the hell did you get that from?"

"Rodrigo," her brother replied. "He owes me a favour. Never mind why, but you were right, sweetheart. You come first, always, and I'm not letting you suffer while she gets herself killed. Now, get on with it before I change my mind." Mickey climbed up into the cabin.

***

"I've got a problem," Lynda called, sounding scared. "They've found me."

"You'll be all right, Lynda," the Hunter assured her, biting her lip. "That side of the station's reinforced against meteors."

"Hope so!" Lynda chuckled. "You know what they say about Earth workmanship." Then there was the sound of glass shattering, and she screamed just once before the line went dead. The Hunter bowed her head.

"Last man standing!" Jack shouted, from just around the corner, making the Time Lady look up sharply. "For God's sake, Queenie, finish that thing and kill them!"

"Finish that thing and kill mankind," the Emperor countered.

***

"Keep going!" Hazel shouted from inside the TARDIS as she watched the chain strain against the console.

"Put your foot down!" Jason relayed from outdoors.

"Faster!"

"Give it some more, Mikey!"

"Keep going!"

"Come on, come on!"

"Keep going!"

"Give it some more!"

The console burst open, and Hazel looked into it, golden energy streaming into her eyes.

"Haze!" Mickey shouted, but she clicked her fingers, and the TARDIS doors slammed shut in his face. She smiled as the TARDIS began to dematerialise, piloting her thousands of years into the future to save the Hunter.

***

"Queenie, you've got twenty seconds maximum!" Jack shouted. He ran out of bullets in his machine gun, and threw it aside, switching to a pistol, which was also empty.

"Exterminate!" the Dalek pursuing him stated.

He rolled his eyes. "I kind of figured that." The blast threw him back into the lift, and Captain Jack Harkness died in the knowledge that they'd at least saved Hazel.

"It's ready!" the Hunter called, before the Daleks entered from all sides. Her blood ran cold as she got no answer, realising what must have happened. "You really want to think about this, because if I activate the signal, every living creature dies."

"I am immortal," the Emperor stated.

"Do you want to put that to the test?" the Hunter snarled, narrowing her eyes.

"I want to see you become like me," the Emperor countered. "Hail the Hunter, the Great Exterminator."

"I'll do it!" she threatened.

"Then prove yourself, Hunter," the Emperor challanged. "What are you, coward or killer?"

The Hunter tensed, her mind full of the names of everyone she knew who'd died today, Jack's name right at the top of that list, urging her to do it, to kill the Daleks once and for all. But then another name came into her mind - a pure name, full of memories of happiness and laughter, and love. Hazel. The Hunter remembered the shock in her eyes when she'd threatened to kill just one Dalek, and suddenly she found herself unable to throw the final lever, despite what the Daleks had done to everything she loved. "Coward," she whispered. "Any day."

The Emperor seemed pleased. "Mankind will be harvested because of your weakness."

"And what about me?" the Hunter asked dully. "Am I becoming one of your angels?"

"You are the heathen," the Emperor informed her. "You will be exterminated."

"Maybe it's time," the Hunter sighed, kneeling and closing her eyes. She could've sworn she could hear the TARDIS' engines, but it was probably just her memories.

"Alert!" a Dalek cried, and her eyes shot open. "TARDIS materialising."

The Hunter got to her feet as the ship landed, turning to see the doors open and reveal a bright golden light. A humanoid shape was silhouetted in the doorway, and as the light dimmed, the Hunter realised who it was. "What've you done?" she cried.

"I looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me," Hazel replied, her voice echoing unnaturally.

The Hunter's eyes widened. "You looked into the Time Vortex. Haze, no one's meant to see that!"

"This is the Abomination!" the Emperor declared.

"Exterminate!"

Hazel lifted a hand casually, and the beam shattered upon impact. "I am Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words; I scatter them in time and space. A message to lead myself here."

"Hazel, you've got to stop this," the Hunter pleaded. "You've got to stop this now. You've got the entire vortex running through your head. You're going to burn!"

Hazel looked at her, her eyes shining with loving tears. "I want you safe. My Artemis. Protected from the false god." Her voice caught.

"You cannot hurt me," the Emperor scoffed. "I am immortal."

"You are tiny," Hazel corrected. "I can see the whole of time and space. Every single atom of your existence, and I divide them." She lowered her hand, and a nearby Dalek disintegrated slowly. "Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies. The Time War ends."

The Daleks crumbled to the ground.

"I will not die!" the Emperor cried, even as he, too, disintegrated. "I cannot die!"

The Hunter watched with wide eyes as the entire spaceship turned to dust. "Haze, you've done it. Now stop. Just let go."

"How can I let go of this?" Hazel laughed - a soft, tinkling melody that sounded nothing like her usual giggle. "I bring life."

There was a loud gasp from the corridor as Jack came back to life. The Hunter glanced over, a look of consternation on her face. "But this is wrong! You can't control life and death!"

"But I can," Hazel assured her. "The sun and the moon, and the day and night." She sighed blissfully, before wincing, her face contorting in pain. "But why do they hurt?"

"The power's going to kill you and it's all my fault," the Hunter realised, covering her mouth in horror.

"I can see everything," Hazel breathed. "All that is, all that was, all that ever could be."

"That's what I see," the Hunter told her softly. "All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?"

"My head," Hazel groaned, swaying slightly.

"Come here," the Hunter whispered, holding her arms out towards her.

"It's killing me," Hazel whimpered in realisation, stumbling towards the Time Lady.

The Hunter smiled down at her as she supported Hazel in her arms. A tear rolled down her cheek, splashing down to join the many already adorning Hazel's cheeks. The Hunter sniffed, smiling, and wiped them away with her thumb. "Oh, Hazie..." She sighed happily. "I think I need you." She leaned down and kissed her, their eyes both closing as she started to pull the vortex from Hazel's mind. When the golden energy had transferred across completely, Hazel gasped slightly, her eyes opening. The Hunter pulled away, smiling gently at her through her tears. Hazel managed a small smile back before she fainted in her arms.

The Hunter carried her into the TARDIS, setting her down on the jump seat carefully before exhaling the energy back into the ship. The doors closed, and the TARDIS dematerialised, leaving one revived man stranded on a satellite full of corpses.

~~~

If you enjoyed, please like and/or reblog, and consider donating to my Kofi to help me keep writing! Thanks for reading :)

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #gxg #lgbt #captain jack harkness #tardis #time lady #series #oc insert #thedoctorcried #slow burn

3 notes · View notes

staliasjeronica · 5 years

Text

Riverdale S4 Ep3 Thoughts *Spoilers*

- Betty’s just sad because while he’s in the prep school she can’t control him.

- Getting really tired of the random sex scenes with Varchie. They’re cute, but—

- OH MY GOD MOOSE??? Also not Jughead hugging Moose as if he’s his best friend tho lol but aww Moose bettering his life I’m so SOFT HE SOUNDS LIKE A CUTIE I’M SO PROUD OF HIM!!! If only everyone else in Riverdale could do the same...

- I blame the poor agent being shot on you adding Betty into the investigation.

- We get a cute Choni scene that’s interrupted, of course. But at least we know who takes care of the twins when Choni’s at school. Nana has a loud ass scream damn the Blossom’s have to banshee’s lol… TRIPLETS?!!??! OH BITCHHHH THERE’S ANOTHER BLOSSOM ISN’T THERE.

- I hate that Veronica and Reggie act like they didn’t date it’s vv sad. I’m surprised they didn’t make the girls get into bikini’s but I’m glad they didn’t... still this is just—

- Betty, Edgar called you because he knows you’re a dumbass who’s gonna do dumbass things.

- Brett is a whiny bitch boy isn’t he… Jughead’s found his match huh lol

- “I could give you a crash course in five seconds.” Jughead acts like he’s so intimidating it’s hilarious

- TONI HIRING SOME HOT NIGHT NURSE LMAO THEY REALLY ARE A FUCKING MARRIED COUPLE

- MARMADUKE KNOWS HIS SEXUALITY LEMME JUST CRY

- Polly really let Edgar put a fucking bomb on her??? I know they’re all “brainwashed” but like………… imagine if they used someone Betty didn’t care about though like how different would it be lol

- WHY DOES BETTY TELL CHARLES TO GET BACK?!?!??!?!??!! BETTY YOU KNOW NOTHING. WHY DOES BETTY HAVE TO DO ALL OF THIS? WHY DOESN’T POLLY LET THE GUY WHO KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING DO THIS???? The Betty catering is strong and clear Jesus fucking Christ

- Donna reminds me of Toni and Veronica, aka two girls who vibe very well with Jughead. Please let her get with Jughead pLEASE

- MAD DOG,,, ARCHIE KNOWS THE FUCKING SHERIFF JUST LITERALLY TELL THE SHERIFF??? Thank God Archie actually said he wanted to go to FP

- Polly look’s good af damn

- GUYS STOP GOING TO VERONICA FOR MONEY SHE’S LITERALLY LIVING ON HER OWN

- Not the fucking eggs again… flashback to when Jughead stupidly kicked Choni out

- “I know people” TONI ACTUALLY BEING IN A PLOT???????

- See, Betty, this is why Edgar contacted you and not Charles, he knew you’d be this dumb to get him what he wants… please tell me she’s not as dumb as she always is and told Charles

- Oh yeah I forgot that Evelyn bashed her upside the head lol

- Why is Brett so threatened by Jughead he ain’t shit like chill bitch—

- NOT HIRAM AGAIN… JUST LET HIM ROT IN JAIL OH MY FUCKING GOD, JUST BECAUSE HE MADE THE FUCKING JAIL DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN LET HIM GO?????? HE WAS PUT IN THERE BY THE SHERIFF. This fucking show… is such—

- If you’re gonna let anyone out of that stupid jail, let Hermione out.

- Did Hiram just say that Veronica has sins? She’s done NOTHING except do your bidding fuck OFF

- So is Veronica gonna tell FP that a prisoner has escaped??

- It’s vv sad that the Serpents like don’t exist anymore…

- ARCHIE AND MARY HAVING A FIGHT NO :(

- Oh not vigilante Archie again NO ONE LIKED THIS PLOT PLEASE but at least he was smart enough to cover his face and hide his identity… last time he pulled a gun on SP and SP rightfully went to his house so like

- Also why is the arcade still opened this late

- Veronica is one of the nicest people in this show omg

- Varchie is so good and cute (but don’t worry I still ship Barchie much more)

- THEY WASTED HOW BEAUTIFUL CHERYL LOOKED ON A FUCKING CORPSE ARE YOU KIDDIING

- Monroe’s like “ahhhh Archie this dumbass…”

- Love Donna muah

- Betty “I’ll kill him” you’re not even scary stop

- … Edgar has a rocket? This fucking show—

- Tied to the bus as shield’s?? What are they going to be able to do while the bus is moving?????????

- TOODLES I fucking love Cheryl I CAN’T

- Why did Betty have to knock Evelyn out? Let Alice do bad ass shit! Betty is not bad ass, Alice is, just stop trying to make Betty cool because she’s not

- Can people stop trying to bring Veronica into crime like she said she didn’t and then she was forced.

- BETTY FUCKING KNOCKED FANGS OUT LMAOOOOOOOOOO I hate what they’ve done to my baby boy but I laughed so hard

- I know that every episode is laughable but this fucking episode is HILARIOUS

- Boss ass bitch Alice YES

- Mary 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 UGHDSHJFKSAKFGSAHFASGFHJGFAJSFGJSAF WE STAN THE GREATEST PARENT BYE

- WAIT SO HIRAM IS BACK IN THE JAIL—what even is this fucking show

- VERONICA LUNA??? NOOOOO BUT GOMEZ WAS SO GOOD—

- Toni knows now…. oh my god poor Toni

- But the thing is, why would anybody care about Moose’s father pretending to be the gargoyle king? And all of that? Anyways fuck Brett smh my boy Marmaduke did NOTHING

- Polly made a place where people can get better? Great, put basically all of the kids in there too!!

- If this is more black hood shit or something… NOT MORE BLACK HOOD SHIT OH MY FUCKING GOD

#Riverdale #Veronica Lodge #Archie Andrews #anti-betty cooper #anti-jughead jones #anti-bughead

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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

Text

Fugitives- Chap 6

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Warnings: D E A T H (someone is shot and killed, yeet), drug mention

Ship: Eventual Ralbert

I’m so so so sorry

Albert was awoken a few hours later to the sounds of people arguing on the other side of the shower curtain. He kept his eyes shut as he strained his ears, trying to catch what the voices were saying.

“You let someone walk away?” Whispered a voice that Albert recognized as Jack’s.

“He promised he wouldn’t run his mouth,” Came Race’s reply.

“Of course he promised, Antonio,” Came another, exasperated voice, “Anyone would promise that if you shot a gun at their wall and threatened to kill them.”

“Davey’s right,” Jack said, “I can’t believe you, Race.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Race exclaimed defensively.

“Kill him, Racetrack,” Jack said, his voice was gaining volume, “You were supposed to kill him.”

“Jack Kelly, you know that I can’t fucking-”

“Yes, I’ve fucking heard it. I’ve heard a million times that you won’t fucking kill anyone else,” Jack was speaking loudly now, “I don’t know what happened to you in Prospect. I don’t know what part you played in Rockefeller, but you’re going to have to get the fuck over it one day, because in this fucking life, you’re gonna have to kill a few people and-”

“Shut up, Jack!” Race shouted, “Shut the fuck up. I know that I’m gonna have to kill a few people. Hell, you’ve made me kill a few people, but don’t fucking talk to me about Rockefeller. Don’t ever bring that up, asshole, there’s a fucking reason I don’t talk about it.” Race’s breath hitched after the last sentence.

“Both of you quiet down, you’re going to wake people up,” The other man, Davey, scolded, “Jack, leave his past out of this. Race, take a deep breath. We’re going to have to think about how to deal with Albert’s roommate, but for now, I think that it would be best if we all just got some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack mumbled.

“Thank you,” Davey said, “Race?”

Albert heard Race take a measured breath, “Okay,” he answered, voice strained.

“Good, get some sleep, Race,” Davey instructed, “Jack, c’mon.”

Albert cracked an eye open, watching as two silhouettes walked to the other side of the theatre. He saw Race’s shadow pacing back and forth behind the curtain a few times, before he sat down on his cot. It looked like he was holding his head in his hands.

Albert felt worry claw at his gut. What were they planning to do to Elmer? He had half a thought to send a warning text to him, but didn’t want to find out the repercussions if Jack found out he’d contacted him. Maybe they weren’t going to kill him, maybe they were just going to recruit Elmer like they’d done with him. Logically, Albert knew that wasn’t the case.

Albert let out a frustrated sigh and reached under his pillow to grab his phone. It was nearly 6:00 am, so Elmer would be waking up within the hour to go to his morning shift at the coffee shop he worked at.

Albert clicked into his and Elmer’s texts and bit his lip, trying to decide how to word his message.

To Elmer: Bro, do me a fat favor and stay at your girl’s place for a few days. Don’t ask questions. I’m handling it. Just don’t go back to our place and never go anywhere alone.

He hovered his thumb over the send button for a few moments, then delivered it. Elmer was no doubt going to ask questions anyway, but it was worth a shot. He deleted their conversation and slid his phone back under his pillow. Rolling over, he noticed that Race was no longer sitting on his cot. In fact, it didn’t look like he was on his side of the wing at all. Albert frowned and lifted his head, glancing around the parts of the theatre that he could see, but there was no sign of Race anywhere. He got up, curiosity getting the better of him. Carefully, he drew back the curtain separating his and Race’s side, eyes sweeping the dark area. At first he didn’t see anything, then he noticed Race sitting on the ground in front of his cot.

“You okay?” He whispered, causing Race to jump violently and turn around.

His face was lined with tear tracks, which he hastily wiped away with his shirt sleeve, “What the fuck? How long’ve you been awake?”

Albert shrugged, “Not too long.”

Race stood, then sat down on his cot, pulling his knees up to his chest. He looked tired, “Did you hear anything?”

Albert considered telling him what he had witnessed of his conversation with Jack and Davey, but thought against it, “Nothing besides you moving around.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah..”

“Sorry for waking you.”

Albert waved a hand nonchalantly, “You didn’t, I’m a light sleeper.”

Race sniffed and lowered his chin to rest on his knees, “What do you want?”

Albert glanced down, suddenly feeling guilty for invading what was obviously a very personal moment for Race, “Uh, nothing. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Race scowled, “Well, I’m fine. Why do you care anyway? I’ve been pretty terrible to you.”

“I was just curious, man-” They both startled when Albert’s phone began buzzing.

Race raised his eyebrows, “You better go get that before Jack or Davey hears. They’re really strict about phones and who we’re all contacting.”

Albert huffed and let the curtain fall back into place, once again separating himself from Race. He took his phone from under his pillow to see that Elmer was calling him. He quickly declined the call and clicked into his texts.

To Elmer: No calling. Just text.

From Elmer: Where the fuck are you man???? What the fuck happened yesterday??? Are you alive?????

To Elmer: Of course I’m alive, numbnuts. I can’t tell you where I am and I can’t tell you what was happening yesterday, but you’re kinda in danger so…

From Elmer: BUdDY you can’t say all this shit without an explanation. I’m freaking the fuck out

To Elmer: Believe me, I am too. Listen, please just trust me. Where are you right now? From Elmer: Sarah’s

Albert slumped onto his cot, relief flooding his system. Elmer was safe at his girlfriend’s place, far from their apartment.

To Elmer: Thank fuck, okay. Maybe don’t go to work tomorrow. Or move to China and change your name. Idc, just please look out for yourself. Also delete this convo

From Elmer: Albert what the fuck

To Elmer: I’m sorry. I gotta go. Remember to delete this. I’ll talk to you when I can

From Elmer: Jfc ok bye

Albert erased his messages once more and laid back against his pillows. He scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, trying in vain to get tired again. It was nearing 7:00 am, so he assumed he’d have to be up soon anyway. Eventually, he dozed off, phone still in hand.

XXX

“The fuck?” Albert yelped as his pillow was yanked out from under his head.

“Rise and shine, bitchatcho.”

Albert looked up to see Race hovering over him, pillow in hand.

“What time s’it?” He asked, voice still thick with sleep.

“Like, 8:00 am,” Race thwacked Albert violently with the pillow, ”We gotta long day ahead of us, so get the fuck up.”

Albert glared at him for a long moment before reluctantly sitting up, “Fine, give me like, ten minutes to change and take a piss.”

“Awesome, meet me downstairs by the storage room when you’re.”

Albert gave him a sarcastic thumbs up and watched as Race left the stage. He pulled his jeans out from under his cot and changed into them, then went to the dressing rooms to use the bathroom. On his way downstairs, he stopped by his bin and took out a sweatshirt, yanking it over his head as he bounded down the stairs.

As promised, Race was waiting outside the storage room, eating a banana. There were two other men with him, one sporting a backwards hat over his curly brown hair and the other leaning heavily on a crutch.

“Heya, Albert,” Race greeted, “Meet Finch and Crutchie.”

The one with a crutchie leaned forward, offering a hand, “As you can probably gather, outta the two of us, I’m Crutchie. I’m Empire’s medic, so if you’re aboutta die or some shit, I’ll patch you up.”

“Uh, sounds good,” Albert said, shaking Crutchie’s hand. He turned to the guy in the backwards hat, “And what about you?”

“Finch,” The guy grunted.

Albert cocked his head and looked at Race, who flicked the guy in the back of the head, “Sorry about him, he’s bitter. That’s Finch. He’s our botanist.”

“Botanist?”

“I run our drug inventory,” Finch said, toying with a cigarette and looking entirely uninterested.

“Cool, uh, nice to meet you..” Finch scanned his eyes over Albert, who crossed his arms self-consciously.

“Likewise.”

“Well, this is cozy,” Crutchie said brightly, “Anyway, I leave you all to your work. Just thought I’d introduce myself. Toodles!” He waved and hobbled away.

“You gotta key, Finchy?” Race asked.

“Don’t call me that,” Finch said, fishing a key out of his jacket pocket and unlocking the storage room door.

“Oh yeah,” Race said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out another banana, “Here, before I forget it’s in there and sit on it.” he handed the banana to Albert, who hesitantly took it.

“I didn’t poison it or some shit,” Race laughed, “Just thought you’d be hungry.”

Albert wordlessly peeled the banana and took a bite, realizing belatedly how hungry he was.

“Race,” Finch called from inside the storage room, “What do you need?”

“Uh, get me like, two grams of pot? And...I think that’s it. It’s a small trade.”

“Kay,” Finch emerged a moment later holding a white paper bag. He handed it to Race who crumpled it and put it into his jacket pocket.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Higgins,” Finch held out a hand, “Give me the bag back.”

Race rolled his eyes and shoved the bag into Finch’s outstretched palm. Finch held his glare as he neatly folded the bag over a few times, then handed it back to Race, who carefully placed it back into his pocket.

“Happy?” Race jeered.

“Extremely,” Finch answered with a fake smile, “We done here? I would like to get coffee now.”

“Yes, we’re done, go get your bean juice.”

Finch sneered and walked away, disappearing up the stairs.

“He’s really fucking meticulous about his drugs,” Race said, zipping up his jacket.

“Meticulous,” Albert repeated, “Didn’t peg you for a fifty-cent-word kinda guy.”

“Shut up, I went to high school. I glanced at all the SAT words.”

“Oh, did you? So what does brevity mean?”

“Uhhhhhhh..” Race screwed up his face in thought, “I said I glanced, dude. That doesn’t mean I retained any actual knowledge.”

“Brevity’s easy. It’s the quality of being brief or terse.”

“Albert, have I told you you’re annoying yet?”

“Many times.”

“Okay, you’re annoying. Now c’mon, The Bronx is waiting.”

XXX

The bleak winter air bit Albert’s face as he and Race left The Bowery. As they walked through the street toward the nearest subway station, Albert couldn’t help but notice the strange feeling that nagged at the back of his neck. The streets felt almost different, like they were hiding some enormous monster underneath them. The ever-existing presence of Empire and Prospect loomed ominously over Race and Albert, blind to the eyes of other pedestrians. He felt incredibly vulnerable, constantly paying mind to who was paying attention to them. Anyone at any time could be a threat- there was no telling who knew what.

They caught the yellow line that would take them to The Bronx, where they were scheduled to trade with some guy in Fordham at 9:30. It was currently 8:15 and the ride was supposed to take about forty-five minutes, leaving Albert wishing he had his headphones so he could disengage completely.

“You nervous at all?” Race’s question surprised Albert, and he turned to him

“Kinda, I guess? How exactly does a trade work?”

“First off, for the love of God, lower your voice,” Race said, leaning in so that they could talk in quieter voices, “And it’s pretty simple. You missed phase one, which is deciding a meet place and trade time. We do that using the graffiti, which I’ve already told you about. One of these days, I’ll show you the symbols we use and what they mean, but that’s not important right now. So now, we just have to be at the coordinated location and make sure he actually has the cash he promised. If he does, we trade, plain and easy.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

Race glanced to the side briefly, “Then, we….” he worried his lip between his teeth.

“...Kill him?” Albert tried,

Race looked down at his lap, reaching up a hand to tug at the hair on the back of his head, “I mean, no. Killing’s not entirely necessary. That’s like, last resort. Like if he pulls knife on us. Yeah, no, we’d just, like, beat him up.” He was rambling and Albert furrowed his brow.

“You alright? Why are you getting weird?”

“I’m not,” Race said, defensively scooting backwards a bit.

“You totally are,” Albert noted that Race had shrunken in on himself, “Is this something to do with last night? With Rockefeller or whatever Jack was talking about?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Albert regretted them.

He silently cursed his lack of a filter as Race whipped his head up, “What? How did you-” he scooted backwards further as his expression turned furious, “So you were listening. You lied to me, DaSilva. This puts you on thin fucking ice.”

Albert pursed his lips, annoyed with himself.

“If you were listening so carefully,” Race seethed, “Then you should have known not to fucking bring that up.”

“M’sorry,” Albert mumbled.

Race didn’t answer as he busied himself in pulling out his headphones, though Albert could see his hands shaking. Albert sat back in his seat and pulled out his own phone, electing to catch up on SnapChat until they arrived in The Bronx.

Fordham was significantly sketchier than the neighborhoods Albert was used to. The storefronts they passed were all worn down and the deeper Race led Albert into the area, the dirtier it got. Race hadn’t spoken a word to him since their conversation on the train, leaving Albert more or less in the dark about the specifics of where they were going. Eventually, they arrived at an abandoned auto-shop.

Race walked around to the back of the lot and knocked on one of the garage doors. It opened a moment later to reveal a tall, gruff looking guy.

“You Racetrack?” He asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Yes, sir, I am,” Race said, sauntering over to him, “But, a little piece of constructive criticism, don’t ever voice your assumptions. If you had been wrong about who was just now, that could have meant serious trouble for the both of us.”

The guy looked unimpressed, “I expected you to be less twiggy.”

“And I expected you to have more than one brain cell, but alas.”

“Whatever,” The guy said, “You got the shit?”

“Yeah,” Race retrieved the paper bag containing the weed from his jacket, “And you’ll get it as soon as I see the cash.”

The guy reached into his back pocket and produced an envelope, “Here, you see it. Now give me the goddamn pot already.”

“Nuh uh uh,” Race wagged his finger, “Calm down, you useless junkie. I already made it very clear the other day that it’s cash first, weed second. Hand it over.”

“Show me the pot first,” Race opened the bag and held it out for the guy to see. He peered at the bag’s contents, inspecting it closely, “And that’s two grams?”

Race clicked his tongue, “It should be.”

The guy nodded and reached into the envelope, revealing a large wad of cash. He held it out for Race to take, who in turn, handed the paper bag over to him.

Once the items were exchanged, Race spit into his palm and offered it to the guy. Without hesitation, the guy spit into his own hand and shook Race’s. Albert wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Pleasure doing business,” Race said, formally.

The guy huffed a small laugh, “Okay.”

With that, he stalked back into the auto shop and closed the garage door. Race turned to Albert, looking pleased.

“That went nice and smooth,” He said.

“Yeah, seemed easy,” Albert agreed.

“I’m hungry,” Race declared, “Let’s head back to The Bowery for lunch, then we can do our next trade.”

“What time’s our next trade? And where?” Albert asked, following Race away from the autoshop.

“4:00 over in Washington Square Park. We have a little while.”

The journey back to The Bowery seemed to take less time than the commute to The Bronx. Race had loosened up significantly and was telling Albert about the other guys in Empire as they entered the theatre.

“So yeah, you met Finch and Crutchie- great guys by the way, absolute geniuses. Aside from them, there’s Mush and Blink, who trade a lot over in Staten Island. Blink’s got an eyepatch. No one knows exactly what happened to his eye, but it definitely involved a knife. Romeo is a little shit, but a total charmer, which comes in handy during trades. Jojo’s the handyman- I’ve already told you about him. Giant teddy bear, that guy. Love him. And then you met Jack and I’ve told you about Les and Davey- oh! I want you to meet Davey, he should be around today, one sec,” As they passed the recreation room, Race stuck his head in, “Hey, Mush.”

Albert peeked over Race’s shoulder to see a shorter guy with straight brown hair, playing solitaire. He looked up upon hearing his name and smiled, “Hey Race,” He made eye contact with Albert and blinked, “You’re Albert, yeah? The dude Race pulled off the street?”

“Indeed, that’s me,” Albert said as Race pulled him into the room.

“Welcome, don’t fuck anything up,” Mush said, placing his cards onto the table and clasping his hands under his chin, “Did you guys need something?”

“Yeah,” Race leaned against the door, “D’you know where Davey is?”

“Uh, I’m not actually sure? I saw him and Jack leave a little bit ago. They said they have something they need to take care of over in SoHo.”

Race frowned, “That’s weird, I didn’t think that they had any trades today.”

Albert felt his blood run cold as he processed what Mush had told them, “Oh my god,” he muttered, “Oh my god.”

Race and Mush looked at him, confusion written on their faces, “What? What’s wrong.”

Albert swallowed and met Race’s stare, panic running down his spine, “Elmer’s girlfriend lives in SoHo.”

“What are you-” Albert didn’t let Race finished as he fled the room, running towards the exit.

“Albert, slow down,” Race called, running after him, “Albert!”

Albert stopped just outside the theatre, turning around to look at Race with wide, terror-stricken eyes, “Race, please, I need to make sure Elmer’s okay.”

“But what does that have to do with his girlfriend-” Understanding dawned on Race’s face, “Wait shit, is he still at his girl’s place?”

“Yes and I think that’s where Jack and Davey are headed. Come or don’t, I’m going,” Albert ran to the street and hailed a cab, Race climbing in next to him.

“Albert,” Race hissed, “You realize this is gonna make it worse, right?”

“Shut up,” Albert snapped, pulling out his phone and dialing Elmer’s number. When he didn’t pick up, Albert called Sarah.

“Hello?” Sarah answered from the other side. She sounded okay, which Albert took as a good sign.

“Sarah, are you at your place?” Albert asked, urgently.

“No, I’m at the grocery store right now, why? Is everything okay?”

“Is Elmer with you?” Albert pushed.

“No,” Sarah said, slowly, “He was still asleep when I left, so he didn’t come.”

“Shit,” Albert cursed, “Shit shit shit.”

“Albert, what’s-” Sarah started, sounding worried.

“I gotta go, but don’t go home,” Albert demanded, not waiting for a reply as he hung up.

They arrived in front of Elmer’s apartment complex fifteen minutes later. Albert almost didn’t want to go inside, too afraid of what he might find. He forced himself to get out of the cab nonetheless and sprinted in through the front, Race on his heels. He bypassed the elevator, instead darting towards the door to the stairwell and scaling the three flights of stairs to Sarah’s floor. When he got to the apartment, he found that it was locked.

He cursed under his breath, then turned to Race, who was standing nervously a few feet away, “Do you have, like, anything you can use to pick locks?” He asked, impatiently.

Race looked like he was having some sort of internal battle as he reached into his boot and pulled out a knife, handing it to Albert, who stuck his tongue between his teeth as he fiddled with the doorknob. It took a few minutes, but eventually he got heard the click indicating that he had succeeded.

“I don’t think you should go in there,” Race warned, but Albert ignored him.

The next thirty seconds felt like they went by in slow motion. Albert opened the door to find Jack and a man in a button down shirt and sweater vest standing on the other side. The man in the sweater vest was pointing a gun at Elmer, who was cowering against the wall. Jack looked up as Albert entered the room and opened his mouth to shout something, but was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Albert looked over to see Elmer slump onto the floor, blood flowing steadily from his head. He screamed and staggered backwards into Race, who caught him and lowered him to the floor. The sound around Albert seemed to muffle. The world was blurry and he was certain that people were talking around him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Albert, Jesus Christ,” He felt someone slap him across the face and he flinched, “Stop screaming or Davey’ll shoot you too,” Race’s voice bled into his consciousness and he was suddenly pulled back to reality.

He closed his mouth, stopping the screams that were escaping him. Without thinking, he looked at Elmer’s body again and his stomach lurched. He bent over to the side and threw up, unable to handle the sight any longer. He heard the door close behind him, then the man in the sweater vest crouched down in front of him.

His eyes were alarmingly calm as he offered a hand to Albert, “You must be Albert. I’m Davey, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

In the words of @newsies-of-nyc “R.I.P el, sorry bro”

next chapter we find out what ‘Rockefeller’ is oooo race’s dark past

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@have-we-got-news-for-you

@musical-shitposts

@thebroadwayaesthetic

#racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #ralbert #newsies #newsies fic #jack kelly #davey jacobs #fugitives

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themurphyzone · 6 years

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Episode 42: Meap Me in St. Louis Ch 2

WE NOW RETURN TO: THE CHRONICLES OF MEAP: EPISODE 42: MEAP ME IN ST. LOUIS

WE DEEPLY APOLOGIZE FOR THE HIATUS BUT HEY THAT’S JUST THE NORM THESE DAYS AIN’T IT?

PART 2: THE MEAP FACTOR

“OKAY! THAT’S ENOUGH! YOU’RE GONNA BURST ALL OUR SEAMS AT THIS RATE!” Frawg screeched over Candace’s continued scream.

And great giant toy shop in the sky did she have a large lung capacity.

Candace’s voice faded away, and she coughed to clear her throat. “Sorry, I was expecting my kidnapper to be-”

“Human?” Frawg supplied.

She shook her head. “Less ugly.”

Frawg glared at her as he dragged himself onto the table. Then he stomped over to Candace and jabbed a plush, stumpy arm in her face. Candace wondered if she was supposed to take that as a threatening gesture.

“You created me, then threw me away. Was it because I’m not as stupidly lovable as your beloved Ducky Momo? Or Mr. Miggins, who’s in worse shape than even me?”

Candace scooted her chair out of range, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Hey, for your information, I’ve had Mr. Miggins since I was a toddler. It’s only natural that he’s a little beaten up. Besides, he was good for kissing practice.”

The seams across Frawg’s face stretched into a hideous frown. “I’m going to pretend that last statement didn’t hurt my self-esteem. But let’s get back to business. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

Candace shrugged. “Nope. Got nothing.”

“Really? Nothing at all?” Frawg pressed. “Not even to ask how I’m alive or anything?”

“Okay, maybe that one,” Candace said. She just needed to delay him long enough so she could hightail it out of this weird place and find some cell service. What kind of sick creature didn’t put wifi into his own building anyway?

“It started when you ordered me for ten dollars off the Internet,” Frawg said. “I was produced and stuffed on my home planet, then shipped to your house. Then you threw me away and replaced me with him.” He gestured angrily to Meap, who guarded the door with a vacant expression on his face. “On that day, I swore to get my revenge.”

Candace stood up and walked away while he poured out his heart in a frankly not-so-dramatic backstory. Meap made no move to stop her from unlatching the safety gate. Just her luck that his office was on the top floor.

She turned into a right corridor that she hoped would lead her to an elevator. Strangely, someone had taped a router to the wall with a large red arrow pointing directly to the switch.

Candace stared up at the huge sign above her. “’Free wifi. Totally not a trap,’” she sighed, then flipped the switch. “Curse them for appealing to my nature as a teenage girl.”

A loud siren blared through the building, and she yelped and covered her ears. A swarm of Bango-Rus surrounded her, some looking as if they’d stepped out of their catchy infomercial while others appeared to be missing seams, eyes, and limbs.

Frawg laughed, pushing his way through the crowd. Meap followed behind him, vacantly staring ahead. Frawg said something that Candace couldn’t make out. She cupped her hand over her ear.

Frawg turned to the elephant-bee next to him, pointing up at the switch. One of his eyes bulged out a little more when the elephant-bee didn’t seem to understand his order. Frawg shook one of his stumps at the elephant-bee in what was either supposed to be a threat or a hug request.

Candace couldn’t really tell the difference.

The elephant-bee quickly nodded, then gestured for several more Bango-Rus to form a stuffed animal ladder. He climbed up and hit the switch.

“Ah man, I was so close,” she lamented as the bars were quickly replaced by a no service icon.

“That could’ve ended in disaster!” Frawg declared. “But you’re within my clutches, and you cannot escape your fate now! Mwahahahaha! And I see you’ve met my entire Bango-Ru army! They’re all loyal to me! You stand no chance!”

“What about Bunny-Bear?” the elephant-bee asked. “She never showed up.”

Frawg coughed. “Ah, yes. I’m sure she had prior engagements. Don’t move, I haven’t explained my plan for you yet. I’m just going to make a quick call. Everyone quiet!”

Candace wondered if all small creatures had pocket dimensions behind their backs to store items. It was definitely more convenient than a purse.

“Wait, why do you get reception?” one of the Bango-Rus shouted.

“Because I was smart enough to pay for the universal plan before I set foot on this miserable rock!” Frawg yelled back. “Now shut up!”

“St. Louis?” Stacy glanced at Bunny-Bear’s phone in confusion.

Bunny-Bear groaned. “I think I like, have some idea of which lame-o it is. Fork it here.”

Stacy handed the phone to Bunny-Bear, though she wasn’t sure how the alien/stuffed toy/valley girl managed to hold it without fingers.

“Yo Frogface, how many times do I like, have to tell you to quit ruining my vibes?” Bunny-Bear complained. “Fine, waste your time on like, your lame-o evil plan. Just leave me alone. Toodles.”

She dropped the phone on the bed, flopping into a pillow. “This is exactly why Lizzie broke up with him,” Bunny-Bear sighed. “Like, where was I in the story again?”

“You were on the part about being originally produced to conquer the Earth with the power of cuteness,” Stacy supplied.

“Oh right,” Bunny-Bear said. “So like I was saying, we’re stuffed in a factory after a computer processes an earthling’s order. And like, I think Frogface’s stuffing got scrambled somewhere on the assembly line.....”

“Okay, so she’s a little headstrong,” Frawg shrugged. “No matter, I’m still going to marry and dispose of you.”

“What?” Candace yelped. “You can’t do that! I was going to date Jeremy throughout high school and college and then we’d get married and have two kids, Xavier and Amanda.”

Frawg pointed to Meap. “This Jeremy could pose a threat. Keep an eye out for him and make sure none of those other children interfere. The rest of you, begin the preparations at once!”

Meap saluted and left, his dazed expression never wavering.

Candace was dragged away by several Bango-Rus as Frawg laughed.

They led her to an empty room, locking the door once she was settled at the single mirror. “So we have an off white patchwork or a gray patchwork dress,” a fox-zebra hybrid said. “Take your pick.”

“C’mon guys, where are you?” Candace muttered. “Hope Phineas and Ferb will leave the actual saving part to Jeremy. More romantic that way.”

“Any sign of Candace yet?” Phineas shouted up to Buford, who was strapped to a glider above their speedboat.

“I’ve spotted five hot dog stands and a fudge shop, but other than that, I got nothing!” Buford yelled back. “This is what you get for not letting me finish my birthday cake!. Now I can’t focus at all.”

Baljeet dodged a rock that jutted out of the water, narrowly avoiding getting one of his skis knocked off. “Pay attention up there!” he shouted. “I promise I will buy you any food of your choosing if you can just focus!”

Buford tapped his chin in thought. “My weaknesses are monetary and food bribes. You got me.”

The cuteness tracker beeped several times, and everyone on the boat crowded around it.

“I thought you said it wouldn’t go off around the girls,” Jeremy said, quickly grabbing Suzy’s life jacket before she toppled overboard from leaning out too far.

“That signal’s not coming from anyone on the boat,” Isabella noted. “I think something’s above us.”

“Guys, there’s something weird on the arch! It’s like a pink toy with creepy blue eyes. Ugh. Those eyes don’t look proportionate to its head at all,” Buford grimaced.

“That’s not a toy!” Phineas exclaimed. “That’s Meap! Hey, Meap! Down here!”

In response, Meap shot a concentrated rainbow beam at them, sending a geyser of water sky high.

#phineas and ferb #meap me in st louis #candace flynn #jeremy johnson #suzy johnson

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youmightaswell · 2 years

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LIVE

COMING SOON: I BOUGHT MIKE TYSON'S FORMER COUCH

I’m officially the woman WITH ALL THE FUCKING VIBES. Obvs. I am going to be writing a long and crazy hilarious essay about this – but want to be paid to do so in hopes of off shooting the costs of shipping the sofa.

Anyway, through Seinfeldian circumstances, I just ended up buying Mike Tyson’s former sofa – a one-of-a-kind, black and white giraffe print number made for him by Versace. [Basically it’s the equivalent of me buying Jon Voight’s car.] Did I mention it’s velvet (I will be ensconced in velvet!) and sold to me by his ex-wife who recently sold their 20,000-square-foot estate for a record price? The one where he lived with her and a WHITE TIGER? It’s even featured in the home listing photos!

Anyway, because I’m an insanely good negotiating genius, I not only got the sofa for a steal, but made her throw in a pic of Tyson sitting on the aforementioned couch.

For reals.

I will be back at some point with the full story and all the wacky shit I did to get this couch, but more so, the weird shit the Universe did to make this sofa find me.

But rn, I’m busying ordering an ear-shaped throw pillow.

Toodles.

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keeps-ache · 1 month

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ah yiss. the golden garbage premium pass (free!)

#just me hi #[spins really fast until i become pancakes]#/'what does this mean' that's for me to forget and you to guess 👉👉#//anyway working on stuff (woo!) and it's absorbing All of my time lmaooo (ah!!)#i'm about halfway done with this chapter i am making Great time but ouuuuuhhhfhfhghg hvbsh #when i really wanna stay in the groove i will just straight up avoid anyone that i can't see. people turn into wallpaper projects turn to #dust i turn into some weird entity that's just a floating pair of eyes and hands and the world temporarily becomes merely a bottle to #contain an essence that i find hard to even fathom. you see !#seriously i got through a whole season of a show n i've still gotta go hfbsh #i'm about halfway done with this chapter so... ouuhghh..#haven't even gotten to the worst part of it yet so !! still going strong !!!#trying not to be picky with everything and ouh. oouh #//OH and lent's almost over!! cool stuff cool cool #i thought giving up sugar would like. kill me or something (not literally) but nope i'm just a little bit more bored some days hfbvsh :>#//anyway i gtg finish this page cuz the side profile is Killing Me hfhvbs #why is drawing old people backs so HarD Lolll #anywho toodles !! shipping off !! :D

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tehlaen · 6 years

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Day 8: “Magnetic Interference” (Morality)

Day 8 of the 30 Day Star Wars OC Challenge from @smuggler-captain that I’m doing with @lessdenied! Previous posts are tagged with #30dayswchallenge.

This is a bit of a deviation from the listed thing; the prompt for Day 8 is “Morality,” but I already touched on that a fair amount in previous entries. Instead, I decided to share a bit of fic that show-don’t-tells Teh’s morality in action.

(Also, I’m a day late and possibly a little rambly, thanks to the mind-fogging effects of head colds and the cold meds meant to make them bearable. So, ya know, be kind!)

The system didn’t even have a name, so far as Teh’laen could recall. Just a seemingly random sequence of letters and numbers that some bored surveyor had assigned it before hurrying to put the unremarkable collection of mostly stationary rocks behind them. Pretty much described every spacer’s feelings on it, she reflected. It was conveniently located just off the major hyperlanes that connected Hutt Space and the portions of the Galaxy still occupied by the reeling Sith Empire. Aside from its location and a seemingly endless supply of asteroids full of useful, if common, minerals, it had absolutely nothing else to recommend it. Ships dropped out of hyperspace, fueled up and resupplied, then put the ugly little system out of sight and out of mind.

Teh’laen hated it, but it was a reliable source of income for her, so once again, she found herself cruising through at a leisurely pace, one eye fixed on the long-range sensors. A couple of passenger liners. Tiny mining pods and their motherships—some belonging to conglomerates, others operated by wildcat miners. A heavy cargo hauler looked promising at first; she swung around, paralleling the transport at a distance that could be considered mildly suspicious, but not outright hostile.

“Essix, peek in the window; let’s see if they’re carrying anything good.”

The droid toodled an acknowledgement and went to work. The comm panel lit up as Essix, through the subspace array, spat out an electronic handshake. The other ship’s transponder answered automatically; unless the crew was particularly astute, they probably wouldn’t even have noticed that their ship’s computers were being pinged. Essix used the handshake to piggyback on the signal to slice into the ship’s mainframe.

Teh had paid out the nose for Essix’s slicing module—top-of-the-line, military-grade, the kind of thing that made planetary governments both envious and deeply uneasy. It had cost a small fortune, but it’d proven a worthy investment time and again. (And, if she was being honest, she couldn’t say no to Essix and adored spoiling the little rustbucket.) Bypassing the cargo ship’s firewall was child’s play, and data began streaming across a secondary monitor as Essix plundered their quarry’s files.

Teh’s lips curled down in a frown. Agricultural products, medical supplies, some heavy construction equipment and prefab structures...Its manifest was chock full of goods that were neither especially portable nor valuable, and certainly not at the ratio necessary to justify the risk and effort… or, for that matter, the ethical implications of stealing food, medicine and building supplies from people who probably needed it.

With a sigh, Teh’laen peeled off, increasing speed to clear the hauler’s comfort zone. If she wasn’t going to steal from them, there was no reason to hang out uncomfortably close and make the crew nervous.

Her wandering flightpath took her through the farther reaches of the system--close enough to scan ships dropping out of hyperspace, but not so close she had to worry about getting run over by some mega-transport like an insect on a speeder’s windscreen.

Her control board lit up and Essix bleated a warning; another ship apparently had had the same idea as she had and was prowling the vicinity.

Active scans, but no intrusion. Good.

Since they’d already been rude enough to hit the Yime’Dizoh with active scans--the spacecraft equivalent of bracketing her with a spotlight and scrutinizing her with macrobinoculars--she felt no compunction against returning the favor.

A three-dimensional mockup of the other craft sprang into existence, the results of her scans highlighted with orange and red arrows. Heavy weapons, reinforced shields, plenty of cargo capacity… She had a sinking feeling in her gut, and a glance at the ship’s registry confirmed it: It belonged to the Labor Alliance, the largest consortium of slavers in this region of space.

Both Teh’laen and the slavers altered their course in an unspoken, apparently mutual decision to leave each other be. Under other circumstances, this sort of detente could have been construed as professional courtesy; on those occasions when she and another thief had bumped into one another while targeting the same mark (a situation that occurred more often than one might think), they almost always came to a similar arrangement and went their separate ways.

By now, the slavers would have had time to make their own assessment of Teh’laen’s ship and its decidedly atypical outfitting, and they had likely come to the (accurate) conclusion that she was a pirate, engaged in similar activities to theirs. She suspected that they let her be as part of that unspoken professional courtesy... In the Twi’lek’s experience, slavers often saw themselves as pirates specializing in a very particular commodity; their counterparts rarely appreciated the comparison, and Teh was most definitely among those who resented any such equivalence. Thief, sure; slaver, never.

On Teh’s part, at least, the decision not to attack was purely pragmatic; she relished the idea of erasing a few slavers from existence. But the two ships were probably evenly matched, which made the potential conflict decidedly not to her liking.

“Essix, keep an eye on them; lemme know if they do anything interesting.”

The droid chirped an affirmative, and a little halo surrounded its blip on her sensor readout as Essix tagged it.

Another ship dropped out of hyperspace and Teh glanced at the sensor readout. What she saw elicited a grimace: a decrepit medium freighter, with weak shields and engines that looked to have been cobbled together in a junkyard.

“Faithful of Bezhil, huh? I dunno what a ‘Bezhil’ is.” She glanced at Essix questioningly, and the droid chirped in agreement. He, apparently, had no idea either. “Alright, this is almost certainly a waste of time, but check it anyway.”

Essix repeated his feat, slicing into the Faithful of Bezhil’s computers effortlessly. The manifest scrolled across her screen; as expected, nothing but passengers.

“I’m going to assume that they’re not passengers worth robbing,” Teh said dryly as she looked at Essix. “Nobody would choose to travel on that piece of junk if they could afford not to.”

A strobing flash out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to the sensor readout; the icon representing the slaver ship had changed course and was set to intercept the Faithful.

Oh, shit.

Teh’laen chewed on her bottom lip as the slavers came up on their target’s stern and roared past with barely five hundred meters separating them. The pilot of the passenger ship goosed the throttle, and it lurched forward. Even an idiot could tell that there was no way the Faithful could outrun the slavers; even with its burst of speed, it crawled like a drunken Hutt in comparison to the raider that had it in its sights.

The slaver vessel pulled up in a lazy loop, then dove at the passenger ship, laser cannons blazing. Hard light chewed through the weak shields like a blowtorch through butter.

“Unidentified ship, this is the passenger ship Faithful of Bezhil!” Teh cursed as the panicked shout of the transport’s pilot blared through her earpiece. “Please, we are unarmed, break off your attack!”

Unsurprisingly, their pleas did not have the desired effect; a second strafing run, this time with ion cannons, left the transport drifting, its vital systems disabled or destroyed. Its subspace comm array, at least, was still functional: “I repeat, we are unarmed! We are transporting religious pilgrims on a holy voyage, we have no valuables to steal!”

Teh’laen glanced at her comm panel. The stricken vessel was broadcasting on an open channel--either because the pilot had flailed at their console in a panic, or as a calculated ploy to beg assistance from any vessels within comm range.

If they’re betting on charity in this part of space, they are sadly mistaken, Teh’laen thought to herself. And yet…

She sighed and brought the Yime’Dizoh around in a lazy loop. Essix trilled a question at her, and she didn’t bother glancing over as she answered. “Yeah, I know. Just be ready.”

With its shields and engines disabled, the pilgrims’ ship floated, helpless, as the slavers grappled and docked at the port airlock. Teh kept her eyes on the controls and the holographic mockup of the slaver ship and steadfastly refused to contemplate what was happening aboard the Faithful.

The Yime’Dizoh orbited the two joined vessels, just out of weapons range of the slaver ship. Coupled to its quarry like this, it couldn’t bring most of its armament to bear even if Teh’laen’s vessel was in range, though a couple of turrets tracked her as she flew past.

Her scanners swept the attackers and she started to formulate a plan of attack. Slavers were a predictable bunch, and this crew was apparently no different. The raider’s shields and weaponry were top of the line, but the people making the purchasing decisions didn’t bother to consider less straightforward angles of attack. The ship’s electronic-warfare and countermeasures suite was hopelessly, hilariously outdated by modern standards.

Teh’laen’s lips parted in a predatory grin, baring gleaming, sharply pointed teeth. “Essix? Let’s have some fun.”

As expected, Teh’laen and Essix quite enjoyed what followed, and the slavers--likewise according to Teh’s expectations--most definitely did not. With the Yime’Dizoh docked to the Faithful’s starboard airlock and thus shielded from the slavers’ weapons by the transport’s bulk, and with unfettered access to the slavers’ electronic systems, the confrontation was over in a matter of minutes.

Seated in her ship’s lounge, booted feet kicked up on the holotable and munching contentedly on a slice of beto melon she’d found in the galley, Teh’laen’s fingers flicked casually over the simulated control panel that Essix projected for her. Opening and closing the correct blast doors in the correct sequence shot most of the slavers out into vacuum before they even realized what was happening. By the time a couple of the brighter slavers--contradiction in terms, that--caught on, they were cut off from their ship. One grabbed a hostage, hauling him by his long, braided hair through the corridors, trusting that his unseen assailant wouldn’t space both attacker and victim. Which, Teh had to admit, was true.

That said, she reflected, if one were counting on a hostage to save one’s life, best to keep that hostage close and not drag them along a corridor with one’s arm outstretched. Particularly when a slicer had control of the blast doors and hatchways.

When she’d finished, the only trace of the slavers still aboard the pilgrim ship was a length of the late hostage-taker’s arm, severed just above the elbow. The hostage was having a fit; but, she thought to herself, better to be having a fit on this side of the airlock.

Teh’laen rose to feet, double-checking the charge on her blaster as she strolled to her ship’s airlock. “C’mon, Essix, let’s go clean up.”

The droid toodled at her derisively and she smirked. “Not literally. These poor fools want the blood mopped up, they can do it themselves.”

The Faithful of Bezhil was a mess. Passengers from more than a dozen different species sat, slumped or lay about in varying states of distress. Their clothes were rough, almost certainly hand-made, and their possessions were few and strictly of sentimental value.

“Vow of poverty, I guess,” she remarked dryly to no one in particular as she picked her way carefully among the pilgrims. They looked up at her with expressions ranging from guarded optimism to gratitude to mortal terror to near reverence, and it was the last that she found most discomfiting.

None of them had any symbols indicating rank, and since their clothes were uniformly shabby, she couldn’t even rely on the otherwise universal rule of “better clothes, higher status.”

She sighed and opened her arms, careful not to accidentally point the blaster held loosely in her right hand at any of the already traumatized passengers. “Anybody want to tell me who’s in charge or what the hell’s going on here?”

Faces turned in the direction of an old Zabrak, the tattoos on his face faded with age and the horns atop his head weathered and chipped. He gave Teh’laen a warm smile and stepped forward, holding out both of his hands to take hers.

She didn’t oblige, instead planting her left hand on her hip and letting her right arm dangle by her side, blaster pointed at the floor. “You in charge?” she asked coolly, one eyebrow arched.

He smiled and Teh’laen’s eyes tightened. “Our deity, the Great Consciousness Bezhil, is who’s ‘in charge’ here, Captain, as They are in all aspects of our lives.”

Fucking great. A sermon. No good deed, huh?

Teh’laen holstered her weapon with perhaps more force than was necessary and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fantastic. So can I talk to Bezhil? Or is there someone a little more corporeal that I can have a little chat with.”

A startled murmur rose from the Zabrak’s congregation and Teh set her jaw. Showing more sense than she would have thought, he bowed his head politely. “I suppose that would be me. My name is Hagen and I lead this group of adherents.”

Teh’laen glanced about, scanning faces, then returned her gaze to Hagen. “Okay. That answers my first question. My second question, though, still stands.”

The beneficent smile on the old man’s lips faded somewhat. “I apologize, Captain. What question was that?”

She sighed heavily. “What the hell is going on here? More to the point, what the hell were you thinking, traipsing through one of the most dangerous regions of space in a ship that, if I hadn’t personally seen it drop out of hyperspace, I would have mistaken for space junk?”

His smile grew again, and Teh’laen couldn’t fully keep the scowl off her own face. “Ah. As I said, we are pilgrims. This,” he waved around, indicating his flock and their vessel, “is but a test of our faith. In search of the enlightenment that will make us one with The Great Consciousness Bezhil, we travel the stars, trusting in Them to watch over us and provide what we need.”

“Right,” she replied dryly.

“Because we rely strictly on Their largesse, we do not keep any but the most rudimentary supplies on hand. Truth be told, I am not certain why those pirates attacked us; as we tried several times to explain, both before and after they boarded our humble ship, we have nothing of value to steal.”

“Idiot,” Teh ground out between her teeth.

Hagen looked at her with eyes wide, and shocked gasps came from the pilgrims closest to them. “I beg your pardon?”

“They weren’t pirates, you stupid bastards.” Her voice was less a recrimination than a dejected sigh, disappointed in their naivete. “They were slavers. They weren’t after credits or jewelry. You’re all poor, but the one thing they want, you possess in abundance.”

An expression of horror dawned on Hagen’s face and dozens of voices began to shout over one another. Teh’laen stood there, arms crossed, until the cacophony diminished.

The group’s leader recovered his composure first, and he bowed his head toward her. “Then we are doubly grateful for your assistance, Captain. Truly, Bezhil has rewarded our faith with protection.”

The Lethan Twi’lek shifted her weight from one foot to the other, losing patience. “Maybe next time you should ask Bezhil for blaster cannons, deflector shields and engines that actually work.”

Hagen’s smile turned almost to a smirk, and Teh’s hands tightened on her arms to keep herself from reaching out and slapping it off his face. “No need, Captain. They sent us you.”

That does it.

Teh’laen lunged forward, grabbing the shoulders of Hagen’s roughspun tunic and bunching the fabric up in her fists. “Are you stupid?” she spat. “Your god didn’t send me. I’m a pirate. The only reason they took your ship instead of me is because you’re poor and don’t have anything I feel like taking from you.”

The look of panic on his face set off a guilty twinge in the back of her mind, but she didn’t let it show on her face. Good. Maybe he’ll realize that he can’t count on someone coming along to save him and his friends.

She released her grip and took a step back, then turned in a slow circle to take in the other pilgrims. “I scanned the damage to your ship; it’ll take a day or more to get your engines operational, and at least that long for shields. If it’s even possible to repair this thing. I’m not sticking around that long. I’ll be leaving in a little under two hours; anyone wants a ride, I suggest you be at the starboard airlock before I return. Only what you can carry. Though,” she added after a moment, “I guess that shouldn’t be a problem--vow of poverty and all.”

The quiet ripple of laughter heartened her, and she looked at Hagen. “Anyone injured?”

He shook his head. “Not seriously. We have medicine enough to treat them.”

“Good. I’ll be back.”

The slavers had been busy.

Teh’laen focused on the task. She refused to count the beings crammed into the hold, or speculate at their ages, or think about their injuries beyond what sort of treatment they’d require and whether she could provide it.

The controls for the shockcollars affixed to their necks was a closed circuit, not linked into the ship’s other systems, but once she and Essix had physical access to it, the droid’s slicing protocols made quick work of them.

Her voice was softer, but still briskly professional, as she swept her eyes over the freed slaves. “I’ll be leaving shortly. If you’d rather not stick around, you can get a ride to some place with a medical facility, maybe even a Republic embassy. I can’t promise th….”

She trailed off as she spotted a Devaronian near the very back. Something was off about him; Teh’laen’s eyes narrowed to slits of amethyst and she pushed through the crowd to face him. He cringed and shied away from her.

Too clean. That was it. She grabbed one of the Devaronian’s horns with one hand, wrenching his head around so that her other hand could pull down the neck of his freshly-laundered shirt.

“No shockcollar, hmm?” Her scarlet lips, pressed into a thin line, paled to a sickly pink.

“N-no, they j-j-just captured me!”

“Uh huh.” Teh let go of him and he straightened his shirt, looking around warily at the freed slaves starting to press in upon them.

A small vibroblade dropped into her palm with a flick of her wrist, and she reached up and rent the fabric from navel to collarbone.

The Devaronian clutched the ruined cloth around him, trying desperately--and futilely--to conceal the tattoos that marked him as a proud member of the Labor Alliance.

Teh’laen regarded him coolly. The former captives watched their former captor with bloodlust, but they glanced at the tall Twi’lek before they made any move.

She shifted her weight to one hip, holding one elbow in the palm of her hand as she inspected her nails with studied indifference.

“Hm.”

Nearly a hundred eyes stared at her.

“I’m leaving shortly,” she remarked offhandedly, then turned for the hatch. “Make it fast.”

#my writing #teh'laen #essix #space piracy #swtor #swtor oc #30dayswchallenge

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fish-d · 6 years

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I'm realizing more and more how much potential for romantic drama the krolfred ship has? Like, imagine the count at first being only superficially interested in this boy because of his youth and innocence - traits the count assumes he'll lose post-transformation, bc that's the way it always goes, he's seen it a thousand times, the vampire nature always takes over - except with alfred, it doesn't. and count does not know how to deal w this (1/2)

(2/2) and time passes and the count is confused and entranced and tries to figure this odd boy out and falls in love in the process - but thinks he’s not worthy of being loved, after all, he indirectly condemned alfred to this fate, he’s a monster, he mustn’t take advantage of the boy’s isolation ( alfred can’t really relate to the other vampires in the castle) - meanwhile alfred is falling hard and fast for the count and thinks krolock doesn’t want him. mutual pining all around.

first off - honestly, the reception to the #krolfred content has been way better than i was expecting - i’m glad so many people are into it, because it has RUINED ME UTTERLY. i think about these vampires more than is healthy, probably, and im glad instead of messaging @penhales at 2am with headcanons and sketches no one asked for, i can subject y’all to them instead B)

secondly - YES ABSOLUTELY you hit the nail on the head. imo krolfred works best when alfred is turned, because krolock, for the first time in his 300 years, has the opportunity to have a companion. someone educated and lively and curious and compassionate in all the ways alfred is - and someone who will stick around, and if there’s anything alfred is, its loyal. and i really think krolock would be charmed by that, and then exactly as you said - a lot more than charmed, eventually.

i just. i LIVE for krolock - strong, stalwart, “I Have Never Had an Emotion in All My 300 Years (Except for When I Cry Alone in the Graveyard Sometimes)” von krolock falling for this little prussian nerd who still has a heart of gold even after its stopped beating. alfred is such a surprise but he would be exactly what krolock needs, even if krolock is terrified of accepting it.

and krolock is perfect for alfred in the same way! insofar as i’ve been able to get out of most performers’ alfreds, he’s a lifelong afterthought for most of the people he cares about. he toodles around transylvania with a batty old professor and Falls in Love with the first girl to make prolonged eye contact with him. he NEEDS attention, and patience, and krolock has nothing but time and no one but alfred to spend that time with (and, of course, herbert - but i think after so long watching his father be in his Moods and wallow in his grief and guilt, herbert might not be so active in trying to pull him from that dark place, because thats just How Dad Is)

anyway this is probably mildly unintelligible, bc i am giddy about this ship (and pleased penhales and i have been such a terrible good influence lmao)!!! I LOVE IT TOO MUCH

(and uhhh at the risk of spoilers/rigging the hype train, i think you’re really gonna like the rest of An Independent Will, wink wink nudge nudge)

#rumpelstiltskinned #ask #tanz der vampire #krolfred #graf von krolock #krolock #alfred (tdv)#tdv #THANK U FOR THIS !!!! U MADE MY NIGHT MY DUDE #seriously not to Overhype or anything but this lowkey Krolfred Revolution(tm) has brought me IMMEASURABLE joy over the last. week-ish #glad to see this black hole of a vampire ship dragging in more hapless victims

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hunchbearing · 6 years

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Yar (Something I Wrote in High School)

Looking forward, I see a giant mouth; a top blue lip of sky and a bottom blue lip of water.

Looking starboard, I see a giant mouth; a top blue lip of sky and a bottom blue lip of water.

Looking port, I see a giant mouth; a top blue lip of sky and a bottom blue lip of water.

Looking sternwise, there’s a large ship with light gray flapping sails and dark gray paint on the hull.

Oozing around the deck is a gaggle of limping, sunburned fools.

My name is Tony, and I’m a pirate.

My crew is the craftiest group of sour, salty worms to ever drift around this big blue bowl called the Atlantic. Cap’n Mutt’s crew, I should say. I am no poop deck scrubber, however. I’m the first mate. Well, the first mate when the other fifteen first mates die, anyway.

Our vessel is called the Dynamite Explosive Awesome Thrashing Hellforged Rascally Atrocious Bloody Bane of the Indian Trader. The acronym that comes to mind, DEATHRABBIT, is never used, because it was completely unintentional, not that Mutt would ever admit it. For the sake of saving time, however, I’ll use it.

The DEATHRABBIT’s crew is what makes the British navy shiver while it sips its tea, and with very good reason. This old floating wasps’ nest has turned fifteen of those lily baskets into floating piles of lit matches just this week. Oddly enough, though, a lot of people claim to pray for us! They pray for us to sink back to hell where we belong. I know because King George left us a lovely letter on one of his many ill fated ships.

People I meet constantly ask why I do what I do. Truthfully, I ask myself the same thing in the mirror every morning. Then I see something shine in the corner of the mirror. It’s a five foot heap of doubloons on a Persian carpet with naked women laughing and playing in it. It doesn’t take long to remember at that point.

Of course, I wasn’t always in this line of work. I was just a simple, normal butcher working my way through the Meatman’s Academy.

Then one day, the pirates came to town.

They hurled small bombs and shot bulletholes into the buildings like freckles. While dazedly running in circles in almost total blindness, I saw through the smoke. I saw the silhouette of a man. He was like a statue of a god, just standing with his fists on his hips. A slumped, grunting chap ran up to him and dropped a jingling bag into his hand. Under the hat-man’s other arm came the gorgeous figure of a female, a woman from my own bloody town. The guy never even turned his head! My mouth was agape until the smoke cleared and I saw that the man in the hat was looking at me. Captain Mutt himself. His scarred, pocked face may as well have been a beacon of light. He nodded at me, and I followed without a thought. I left my stupid normal wife, my stupid normal house, and my stupid normal taxes behind forever, never shedding a tear over it. I was born for this stuff.

Anyway, the action started on a typical calm morning at sea.

I had lookout duty that day. Cap’n Mutt expects us to diligently sit with the muscles of one eye socket clamped around the narrow end of an 8-foot spyglass for six consecutive hours or more. That’s rarely what occurs. One would think that pirates leap at the chance to do the ship’s one sit-down job, and one is wrong. It’s boring. Such work makes a man’s mind softer and eyes duller than a barrel o’grog. To help pass the time, us lackeys have conjured up a few games.

One is called Butt Crack Countin’, which is self-explanatory. Another is called Hawkey, where you try to spit all the way across a side of the ship. I was playing the latter when a cliche peg-leg pirate yelled from below that white sails seemed to be coming from the starboard horizon. Grimacing as I swallowed my aborted projectile, I snapped to the eyehole of the looking glass. A smile split my face when I saw the old fart was right.

Now, an enemy ship is nothing to celebrate about for anyone, but for the man in the nest, it means you get to use the Bell. The big black, loud bell that makes the ringer feel like a bear standing over an anthill. I reached straight up into the Bell’s rusty black depths and eagerly slammed the brass ball into the side like a mountain man with a deer’s skull. Every man on deck aside from the wheel warmer (Mutt only likes to steer when ladies are watching) ran below deck to prepare the cannons.

These battles with the Brits are always the same. It’s almost sad, really. The British are an ever-gentlemanly group. They insist on taking turns, then they make the most baffled faces when we unload a dozen cannons on them at once. It’s hilarious. Of course, it’s easy to imagine that the battles can get boring, and they do. Like in the crows’ nest, we get creative.

One popular game is White Flag Pop. We withdraw our cannons, stick our white underwear out of the holes, and when they parallel their ship to ours to walk their plank over here, we bring the cannons through the deck and shoot at close range to blow their vessel into hamster cage chips.

My personal favorite game is Copycat. We put up a British flag in lieu of our own, dress in some of their long-since fallen comrades’ uniforms, and when they start asking us questions, we repeat what they say word for word, and as soon as they get angry, we throw bags of excrement at them, then shoot them and raid their jewelry boxes.

This time, however, we decided to wing it.

The flags drew closer and we were still out of ideas. All the men were pitching their two farthings, saying we should throw our rotten apples at them, wear masks, give them the finger, and one guy even suggested shooting our livestock out of our cannons. Annabel and Eliza, my two girlfriends, both joined in to scold me for leaving the privy lid up, and I remarked that we should launch them to a land where someone cared about their lady times. While everyone laughed (except for the women, who stomped off after slapping me), I had not realized I’d just sealed my doom.

Us boys finally reached a consensus about the attack plan, and not a moment too soon. We decided to wait until they approached, put a crucifix flag up, dress in black, and pretend to be stranded ministers. The men with big beards were okay, but those of us with stubble had to shave, and we rushed to do it before they arrived. Some of us had to use swords, since straight razors weren’t often used on the ship. Indeed, we were committed to our hijinks.

By the time I was shaven, I went back on deck in my black suit to see most of the other men with their game faces on, in costume and frantically waving to our “rescuers”. Shortly, the British ship floated parallel to our starboard side.

“Ello, ‘oly men!” The captain of the Brit vessel greeted from his deck. Lanky with a huge goofy grin, a huge goofy nose, and skin that refused to tan despite the ruthless sun.

“And hello to you, my son.” Cap’n Mutt said in a subtle, accent-less voice with his hands dramatically clasped behind his rear. “We seem to be in some trouble.”

“We can see that, sir! Looks like a bit of a sticky wicket! What seems to be the dilemma?”

“Oh, it’s silly. I’m rather embarrassed, but...” Mutt sighed with a half-smile. “We whipped all our slaves to death.”

“Oh my! Gee, sir! I hate when that happens, so I do! Them things ain’t cheap! But you can’t exactly ask them to not do something again, now can you? Ha! Ye can’t feed ‘em salt water, either! Well, we have plenty of slaves to go ‘round! You can borrow then while we escort your holinesses back home, how’d that be?”

Ted, Frank, and Joey, our three black pirates who naturally had to sit this prank out, were cursing under their breaths below deck with their fists clenched.

“My son, that would be divine. Get it? Divine? Because I worship a deity?” The entire crews of both ships heaved with laughter in a beautiful moment of unity before the Brits boarded the DEATHRABBIT.

Each of us had our rapiers hidden down a leg of our loose pants. Soon every Brit was aboard with ten slaves coming along. Before they got the slaves acquainted with their new quarters, we made small talk for a little while, having no idea that two women were sneaking from the DEATHRABBIT onto the white-sailed Brit ship, the Gaylord Butterworthy.

We were supposed to stall the pale officers, so we started singing hymns (in low voices so they would mistake our gibberish for Latin). Meanwhile, Eliza and Annabel let the remaining slaves on the Gaylord know they were the new commanders of the vessel, using two of my guns to enunciate their points.

After singing the sixteenth chorus of “Jesus Gmlsi Dffftrd God Lfdces,” a familiar voice came from the deck of the Gaylord.

“Hello, you sorry blisters of the Atlantic! This is Captain Eliza Ruth Covington! I’m here to tell you that this ship is going with me and my first mate! And as for the ‘holy men’ among you, they are nothing but filthy pirates! They have swords in their pants and they have a drape over the ship’s label! You may have heard of it! The Dynamite Explosive Awesome Thrashing Hellforged Rascally Atrocious Bloody Bane of the Indian Trader! Toodles, boys! We now have our own bathroom for our “lady times!” Oh, and I hope you can swim!”

A cannon protruded from the Gaylord’s hull and fired a massive hole into the DEATHRABBIT’s belly before the women released their sails and drifted off.

We were silent enough to hear their laughter even when they were a hundred yards away. Finally, we all looked at our foes and destroyed the ship as well as each other in the ensuing gory battle. In the end, only Cap’n Mutt and I survived, floating on a desk.

“Well, today was bad, eh?” I at last spoke.

“Quite,” Mutt answered. “If I die trying, if I have to paddle a thousand miles, which is very likey, I will kill Eliza and Annabel. Are you with me, boy?”

“Actually,” I said as I drew my cutlass, “It’s captain now.”

In one swing, I sliced off Mutt’s head and placed his hat on my head. I smiled, enjoying the feel. “Captain Tony Baloney. Has a nice ring to it,” I mused as I began to paddle west.

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lushscreamqueen · 3 years

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THE KILLER SHREWS on the Schlocky Horror Picture Show

August 03, 2008

OPENING: Hello, good evening, and welcome to the Schlocky Horror Picture Show. I'm your host, Nigel Honeybone. As the 1950's grew to a close so did the era of the giant radioactive beast. Spawned from the nuclear fears stemming from World War II, the movies saw dozens of animals super-sized due to one of the popular catch words of the time: Radiation! By decades end, just about every manner of giant beastie had been seen. Lizards, spiders, ants, grasshoppers, the list goes on. The major studios had lost the inclination to finance such projects, and gradually re-focused their attention on new trends like nudies, bikies and gothic horror. That is not to say that movies with ginogorous critters didn't exist. It's just that, more often than not, it was left to the little guy, the independent producer or filmmaking rookie to unleash such monsters. Witness tonight, if you dare, as a group of people trapped on an island during a storm must contend with a bunch of whippets in wigs, in the 1959 anti-classic, Attack Of The Killer Shrews! BREAK: Don't go away, we'll be right back with more dogs In drag, and then after the ads we'll get back to the movie. MIDDLE: Welcome back to the Schlocky Horror Picture Show. Attack Of The Killer Shrews, also known as just Killer Shrews, was the brainchild of Texas millionaire Gordon McLendon. Born in Paris, Texas in 1921 he would go on to win a nationwide political-essay contest, attend Yale University where he studied Far Eastern languages, work for the campus radio station, and served as business manager for the Yale Literary Magazine, all before the U.S. got involved in World War Two. After the war he bought an interest in a radio station and built up a following for his live baseball game broadcasts. Having built up quite a name for himself as a pioneer in the radio field, McLendon now turned his attention to film...a regrettable decision for producer and audience alike. He and his family owned several drive-ins and theatres. Like many drive-in owners discovered, their outlets for screening films were considered the bottom of the barrel by the pretentious lot in Hollywood and many in tinseltown tried their darndest to keep their films out of the drive-in chains. This only led to the drive-in owners taking the next logical step, they financed their own films. In 1959 McLendon financed three films: The Killer Shrews, The Giant Gila Monster, and My Dog Buddy, none of which are remembered as sterling examples of cinematic skill, if they're remembered at all. James Best, known far and wide as Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane on television's original Dukes of Hazzard, plays Thorne Sherman and captains his own ship. Sounds cool, but sadly it isn't any bigger than the SS Minnow, and the only person he has to boss around is Rook. He's a glorified gopher, delivering supplies out to Doctor Craigis on his island. Sherman is a man's man, which by 1950s terms means he drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney, has an appreciative eye for the ladies and is ready for a fistfight on a moment's notice, the kind of simplistic brute we are gradually evolving away from, a little too slowly if you ask me. His Honour Judge Henry Dupree plays Rook Griswold and looks like he could have played the title role in that live action Fat Albert movie: Hey, hey, hey! He's Sherman's sole crewman, although the two seem to share a real friendship rather than just bossy Captain/abused crew dynamic. Poor Rook is the first person to bite it in The Killer Shrews, or more accurately, the first to get bitten. Repeatedly, as a matter of fact. In this way this film helped start the stereotype of the token black character becoming the first victim in horror films. You may think films like Night Of The Living Dead and Alien were breakthroughs for the token black character in American horror, but a pessimist might say they simply get more screen-time before being killed-off. Baruch Lumet plays Doctor Marlowe Craigis. He may not seem like much, but he fathered one of Hollywoods greatest producer/directors, Sidney Lumet, famous for

Twelve Angry Men, Failsafe, The Pawnbroker and Dog Day Afternoon. Speaking of dogs, he also directed the all-black musical The Wiz starring Diana Ross and Michael Jackson. Nobody's perfect. Anyway, Craigis says he hails from Sweden, and has come to the island of The Killer Shrews to further his scientific work, but you and I both know it was to keep his sexy daughter out of the Swedish porn industry. Craigis wants to shrink people, or at least slow down our metabolisms so the Earth's resources will last longer when overpopulation becomes a big problem. I think a bigger problem might be smarmy foreign scientists who screw around with Mother Nature... Swedish-born Ingrid Goude, a former Miss Universe, plays Ann Craigis, Doctor Craigis sexy daughter. She claims to be a zoologist, which is about as convincing as Nicole Kidman playing a brain surgeon. Though to be honest, I wouldn't mind checking-out her knowledge of biology, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Ann serves no purpose here other than to scream on occasion, and to provide Captain Sherman with a new First Mate, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Ken Curtis, another famous redneck, plays Jerry Farrell, part of Doctor Craigis research team. Curtis was inducted into the Hall Of Great Western Performers in 1981 for his performance as Festus in almost 300 episodes of Gunsmoke. Jerry's vital role in the mission is whining, cowering, boozing it up and generally being a waste of skin. He despises Sherman from the start, probably because he recognises that Sherman is much more of a man than he ever will be. I wouldn't get attached to Jerry if I were you. Played by Gordon McLendon, the Texas millionaire responsible for this mess Doctor Radford Baines is another one of the scientists helping Doctor Craigis with his work. This guy is really devoted to his work. In fact, he can hardly think of anything else and walks around muttering things like "Hematoxic Syndrome." His last moments on Earth are spent in devotion to science and furthering the understanding of mankind, instead of doing something really important like trying to get laid or run away. Unknown Alfredo DeSoto plays Mario. Despite the Italian name, Mario is apparently Mexican. He's most likely a servant of some kind, though his main duty seems to be as a device to advance the plot. Whatever he does, it doesn't involve too much physical labor, as Mario's mid section is expanding faster than a balloon. He isn't around much. Just long enough to say things like "Si, senor," "No, senor" and "Aaaahhhh!". It also explains why the shrews ran out of food. Mario doesn't look like he was missing any meals... Attack Of The Killer Shrews gives real meaning to the phrase Low Budget. Filmed on a mere handful of sets and featuring scene after scene of people talking, often with their back to the camera, with little in the way of action, and one could easily dismiss this as pure manure. The fact that the giant shrews are played by dogs in drag when they're not being represented by clumsy puppets, and one could not be blamed for turning up their nose at this movie. If there is a saving grace, it's the short running time. So yes, there's lots of boring talk, but there is also enough monster action to satisfy fans of such schlocky goodness. Besides, I shouldn't have to explain how funny it is to watch somebody scream in terror at a Collie wearing carpet remnants, when the dog is rolling over on his back obviously expecting a belly rub! And it's with that thought in mind we now return you to the carnivorous canine creepiness that is Attack Of The Killer Shrews! CLOSING: It's alright, you can open your eyes now. How exactly do Killer Shrews assimilate poison into their systems, anyway? For instance, I love to drink Absinthe, and I do mean Absinthe, not that over-the-counter swill. I've consumed hundreds if not thousands of litres of it over the years, over three thousand litres just in the last fifteen years, but I still haven't started frothing with green poison yet. If I can't assimilate my own favourite

beverage after drinking thousands of bottles, how can the shrews do so with poison after just one sampling of it? Anyway, please join me next week so I can poke you in the eye with another frightful excursion to the backside of the Public Domain, filmed in glorious 2-D black & white Regularscope on...The Schlocky Horror Picture Show. Toodles!

by Lushscreamqueen

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