#I probably misspelled a lot of things but I’m working from memory here...
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I’ve read the comments on my post abt soulsborne sleep token thing! Here’s some concept art I tried. More is on the way just… HW ew. Tagging people who were interested/encouraging this idea: @sleep-token @wingedinsect @moonchild-in-blue @foundationsofdecay @madsthenightowl @a-s-levynn
Undercut is me mindlessly rambling about what’s going on in my brain about this. Don’t read unless you like torturing yourself with reading.
I guess to start, I have only played Elden Ring (crucible knight more like crucible kill yours-IM JOKING), I’ve watched some lore videos on Elden Ring Bloodborne and DS1, haven’t played DS1 yet, and have all the art books except DS2 (cause nobody likes DS2). I’ve played very limited DND games. I’ve read lots of weaponry wiki pages but I have bad memory. If any information I say below is incorrect (like I say this sword is two-handed but it’s not or I misspell spauldor… spalder? Spauldron?) please correct me. I’m just using information I know and I’m always open to suggestions and feedback!
Random Lore Bits: Sleep and the Whale lived in peace but Sleep was always the higher deity. It created all that lives on the land and the TMBTE creatures. Sleep had many worhsippers but Vessel and the rest stood out. They were appointed as the highest knights of sleep. Vessel always had Sleep’s favor and therefore became Sleep’s vessel. Confusing I’m aware lmao. Sleep and Whale became enemies somehow and Sleep injured the whale, causing it to die. This time period before the Whale’s death was called Eden. NPCs speak of Eden all the time about how, “Peace and day has never been restored since Eden” “Eden is over” “If the whale were here, Eden would still be here”. All followers of Sleep become corrupt.
Bosses: Once killed, all bosses turn into statues and have branches grow out of them. They aren’t dead, just dormant. You can fight them again but returning to their fight area and making an offering of a certain amount of tokens. Once defeated again they return to being dormant. If you defeat all resurrected bosses (fought each one twice) you get smth called a Talisman of Blood (important later).
Regular enemies: Idk skeletons???? Giant birds??? Snakes???? Giant insectoids Idk bro???
Location: Like Elden Ring lands between, it’s called Fields of Elation. The capital city is either Nazareth or Jericho. I’ll try to incorporate Calcutta somehow. Geography is a mix of frigid coast, deep dark forest, large cavernous cave strictures, old ruined castles with mysterious rusty machinery inside, sparatic temples to sleep (all whale temples were destroyed), and the remnants of towns. Large trade road that goes through the entirety of the land is called the Path of Reason??? Idk bro I’m spitballing.
Currency: Tokens. Killing enemies and bosses earns you large amounts of tokens and like how runes work, you can level up you and your armaments with them.
Waypoints: Sites of grace, bonfires, more like RITUALS (I am not funny). I think calling waypoints rituals makes sense.
Flasks HP/FP: Estus Flask, Flask of Crimson/Cruelean Tears…. How about Flssk of H I G H W A T E R. Nah I’m kidding. No idea! Suggestions are open! I’m reading lyrics and nothings jumping out.
Incantations/Spells: Can be equipped to magic armaments and weapons! Kinda like you can choose between spell sword or just being a wizard.
Player Character: Tarnished, undead, hunter…. No idea what to call them. Robes and garments Very inspired by TPWBYT. Thinking the whale was an ancient god defeated by Sleep. Player Character is gifted with a certain power of the whale and was resurrected to defeat Sleep. Game opens with epic cutscene and player charter emerges from a cavern (TLYW) and goes through it before finding themselves on the coast of a freezing raging sea and an inviting forest. There’s probably one class you play as cause I’m lazy and you just collect armor and new weapons on the journey. TLYW style robes with greaves, hood, and gauntlets. Basic longsword.
Vessel: I’ve read the feedback and I agree that staff needs to stay. Live laugh staff. I’ve seen a few Elden ring builds where it’s right armament is staff for casting the long range stuff and left armament is a short sword, miséricorde (mercy dagger), scimitar(?), or other various short weapons. I like the image of this because I imagine him having somewhat light armor so if you’re far away, he spell. If you’re close, he stab. Spells are gonna be red. Change my mind. I like the Elden Ring boss Maliketh’s magic attacks so I imagine something like that. I imagine his boss fight starts with epic cut scene with him kneeled in a big arching cathedral temple type place and he’s like, “you seek to defeat the vessel of Sleep, foolish warrior? I have not known defeat against those of the sea nor those of Sleep” or some crazy bs like that. Half health, hands of Sleep show up and swipe and grab and Player Character. Just giant spindly hands that appear and float around. Attempts to break away form Sleep control but fails so that why he evil >:}
II: Dual wielding… what? No idea. I want him to dual wild some sort of straight weapon cause like drumsticks but honestly… sickles are so badass… Med. to light armor so he can move around a lot. Some sort of helmet with feather Mohawk. Boss area is probably in a fort outside of the main city. Just you and this guy. Get ready for a stamina check.
III: I’m torn between frenzied flame/black flame style magic user or spell sword. If magic, light armor. If spell sword, med. armor. Boss fight in a large old temple, candlelit and torn tapestries everywhere. Better have some fire immunity talismans on you.
IV: Halbert. All the way. Heavy armor my guy. Idk not much to say. Thinking banished knight ornstein inspo?? Boss fight Outside the gates to Vessel/Sleep’s castle. Vigor check time!!!
Chokehold: large dark cavern with webs strung about. It appears from above like, “A traitor to Sleep, hm? Pity. You seemed like you would be a good asset to the Vessel’s artillery.” Big axe time. High HP high strength boss. Vulnerable spot is probably its stomach area. Gives you armor, weapon, talisman, and incantation “Branches in a Flood” (roots sprout from the ground and entangle enemy).
The Summoning: Player probably stumbles upon the fight after meeting Aqua Regia and Granite. Mean killing machine. Idk what else to say erm… maybe player interacts with a sleep token symbol on a pillar with runes and it summons (pun intended) the summoning creature??? Stonehenge lookin boss area. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.
Granite: Relatively peaceful NPC. Dialogue options are cool and it probably raises stats and alters your armaments. Quest line ends with Granite maybe just becoming dormant or it becomes a member of sleep again and sad boss fight initiates. Drops its armor, axes, root/weed talisman that increases stamina and immunity.
Aqua Regia: Chill and never ends in boss fight. Probably lets you summon them during other boss fights. Spear and sword. Gifts you new armor and talismans. Quest line maybe ends with them becoming too weak to keep battling and becomes dormsnt. You get their armor, spear, sword, rose talisman that raises FP, and a spell/incantation that shoots gold acid rays called Gold Rush or smth similar (Like Aqua Regia? Get it?)
Vore: Awesome boss. Inflicts poison damage for sure. I think we can all imagine how fighting Vore would be. In a poison lake haha it wants you to suffer. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.
Ascensionism: Swords swords swords. Pulls a Starscourge Radahn and turns a meteor and player has to dodge lmao (cause yk ascending). Boss area is probably in a giant colosseum that’s old and crumbling. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.
Are You Really Okay?: Player character pulls a stupid and decides to touch and inspect the strange incubator with a fetus inside and AYRO appears and is like “DONT TOUCH MY CHILD” initiate boss fight. Small castle is the boss fight area. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.
The Apparition: Big guy, big hammer. Boss fight is somewhere in a forest clearing. No other ideas for it. Drops weapons, armor, talisman, incantations like everyone else.
DYWTYLM: Chokehold but with tiny dagger and looks like a giant engine. Probably shoots fire from the pipes on its body? Chokehold is PISSED if you defeat this guy first. Brothers fr fr. Boss fight in an old building filled with machinery. Speed is low but HP is super high. Drops armor, weapons, incantations, and talisman.
Rain: Your magic immunity better be HIGH. Renala style fight: Crazy hits, bad defense. Probably drops some crazy cool incantations, armor (really bad armor), and a talisman of fire immunity and raises your FP. Boss fight area is in a shiny crystaly forest area surrounded by weeping willow/wisteria like trees.
Take Me Back To Eden: The last boss before Vessel. Killer fight. Armor is also fire??? Difficult but probably super dope. Boss fight is in a SUPER large hallway in the castle of Sleep. Drops weapons, armor, talisman of resistance against airborne attacks.
Euclid: NPC that’s probably cranky and hesitant to befriend you at first. Still a follower of Sleep but respects the players fate to defeat the sleepmiester (I’m so tired bro—). Might fight you idk.Once dormant, drops and old mask of Vessel, a few incantations, and armor.
Endings: Endings one: You defeat vessel, sleep becomes dormant and no gods rule over the land. Retires and vessels are resurrected. Endings 2: You defeat vessel and become the new Vessel of Sleep. No difference from first ending, you just chose if ya wanna be evil or not. Endings 3: If you acquire the Talisman of Blood, Sleep sees you worthy to fight them without using a vessel. Radagon Elden Beast situation. When you defeat sleep, the whale is resurrected.
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Colors
started with a one shot because I wanted to write about someone fighting with Snape during an Order meeting (because God knows I would)
ended with me writing three moments of a world where jily lives, Sirius and Hestia happen, and it takes place in 1995
TW: the first one shot - BLACK - talks about an anxiety attack, so if you don't want to read about it, just skip to the next color: YELLOW
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Black.
{respect, death, isolation, fear, loneliness.}
Sirius felt like he was going to lose his mind, and he probably would.
Memories of a past he tries so hard to forget keep coming back to him at night, preventing him from sleeping, which automatically prevents him from living as a normal human being.
But it's only when Dumbledore forbids him to leave the house for anything - Moody thinks he's too unstable - that Sirius freaks out.
He breaks everything in the attic, absolutely nothing escapes his anger. He rips up stupid family portraits, smashes stupid ceramic cups, burns old newspapers that proudly displayed a picture of the Black family on the cover - a photo he wasn't in. Sirius feels he could blow up that house if it weren't for James, Lily and Harry living there. It's basically what keeps him from ending that stupid legacy that haunts him like a death spell.
He picks up that stupid box of pictures he hid before before everyone arrives - because he's ashamed -, and starts burning them one by one with his wand, hating more than anything to notice there aren't any pictures of him in there. He's been completely erased from the family, and Sirius thinks it's a pain that will never go away.
Watching Regulus's cheerful face burn through photo after photo, enrages him even more. The golden boy, the most perfect of all, while he has his name burned on the wall, and everything that could show that were two brothers before, erased like a single misspelled word in a letter.
He doesn't exist there, only his bedroom remains, which is one of the rooms he avoids the most, although it's the only one left to prove that he once lived there.
He hates that house, he feels like marching to his parents' grave and screaming at them, and screaming at that stupid portrait of his mother until there's no more air in his lungs, because she did that to him. She's turned him into this unstable madman who needs to be chained indoors like a dog while the others work for him.
Before he could do anything else, James intervened.
And at first Sirius hated him to do that, because how could James care so much for someone like him? He wanted to scream and push James from upstairs, wanted him to leave him alone, but suddenly he didn't want any of that anymore. Then Sirius began to shamelessly cry like a child on his best friend's shoulder, sobbing as if someone had hit him.
James didn't say anything, because he was a good friend after all, just stood there, hugging Sirius and hoping that whatever happened to him would pass and he'd calm down.
Sirius felt like crap for not being as good as James.
"I'm here with you," James said, as he would say to Harry or Lily. ''Everything will be fine.''
''No, James, you know it’s not that easy, I... I can't stand being in here anymore, there's a memory wherever I look, I... Dumbledore took everything I had left, I want my freedom back, I want my motorcycle, I want my wife I want my house...'' Later, Sirius would be embarrassed for sounding so weak, but right now, he couldn't care less.
"Hestia will be here in a few days, and… it will all be over as quickly as it started, you'll see, by Christmas you'll be back to your routine."
‘’It's not true, Prongs, you know it's not. We've been in this shit for years now, I feel like I'm going to die any second.”
"You won't, I won't let you," James promises, hugging him even tighter.
Yellow.
{light, warmth, relaxation, optimism, joy}
Hestia first entered Grimmauld Place during the night, a storm was falling outside and her body was cold and tense. She just wanted to see him, for Merlin's sake, just make sure he was okay. She made sure not to make so much noise because Lily said in the letter that there was a horrible portrait of Sirius' mother who would scream if you woke her up, and Hestia didn't have the patience for that.
She's had horrible days now that she's had to travel further into the woods—which doesn't help her research at all—and has been prevented from talking to him. Hestia had only spoken to Lily once, and she told her that Sirius was not well, which was nothing new as he had to go back to his parents' house and Hestia knew that it would torment him much more than it already did.
But when she arrived in the kitchen she noticed him there, sitting alone at the table, a half-empty bottle of wine and an empty glass in front of him. Sirius had his back to her, but Hestia didn't need to see him to know he had a serious expression on his face.
"You shouldn't drink this time of night," she said, her voice sounding a lot more worried than she imagined it would.
Sirius jumped up from his chair, wand already in hand, gray eyes bulging as he watched her warily. ‘’Tell me about our first time.’’
Hestia laughed. "Only you to ask me that question," She sighed. ''We were at the Potter's house, Euphemia had made the bed in the guest room for me, so I went to say good night but you started kissing me and when I saw it, I was half naked on your bed, wearing a black lingerie, and you was saying you wouldn't let me out of there ever again… Anything else?''
Sirius didn't answer her, just lowered his wand and walked over to Hestia with a face so worried she almost didn't recognize him, his arms enveloping her in a warm, familiar hug that made her bury her head in his shirt, feeling a little foolish for wanting to cry.
"I've missed you so much," Sirius said, his lips against her hair, damp from the rain and a little oily from days without washing it. “Merlin, I thought I was going crazy.” He denies it. "I went crazy actually."
"Lily told me," Hestia hugged him even tighter, wanting Sirius to understand that she was really there, that he wasn't alone. ''How are you?''
"Absolute shit…" He snorted, pulling away from her enough that Hestia could look at him more cautiously. Sunken eyes and cheeks, big dark circles, long hair, stubble… Her heart aches. “But you're here now, so we're stuck in this shit together. You can't run away from me anymore, Jones.”
''Not at all, Moody forbade me to leave the house after I got back, something about,'' Hestia pauses, remembering the unfriendly conversation they had, and how the auror yelled that ''her out-of-control husband nearly killed them ''. Sirius would probably think it was his fault that she couldn't go out anymore. Which was half true, but then again, Hestia didn't help herself when she lost her temper and yelled at Moody back. "About him and Dumbledore not wanting to take chances with one of us out of the house."
“They think I'm crazy, don't they?” His jaw tensed, his gray eyes seeming to burn. "Well, I'm sorry if I didn't keep quiet when I heard someone talking shit about my godson and calling him a liar."
"You don't help Harry at all if you keep threatening other Aurors."
"I know." He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes steady on hers. There was a faint booze smell to him, but nothing to make her think he was completely drunk. "But you know how I am."
"I know," Hestia placed her hands on his face, making a brief caress of his cheek before leaning in to kiss him. "I love you, but I prefer you without that beard."
"I was thinking of making it look like Dumbledore's." Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes still closed and his lips touching hers.
"Do that, and you'll never see the middle of my legs again."
"Ouch, it's not fair," He looked at her, his gray irises gleaming in amusement as he pouted softly.
"Take it or leave it, Black." Hestia pulled away from him, grabbing her suitcase from the floor. “I need to take a shower.” She arched her eyebrows. 'Will you keep me company?'
“Of course, I hear this house is very haunted, so I'll have to stay with you to protect you from the ghosts.” They walked out of the kitchen, taking slow steps so as not to wake the fucking portrait.
''Thank you so much, I'm terrified of haunting.'' Hestia smiled, letting him lead her to his room - which looked strangely untouched - and then to the bathroom, with Sirius talking non-stop about how he would protect and secure her, so that Hestia didn't have her foot pulled during the night.
“We'll have to sleep cuddled together so that doesn't happen.” He took off his shirt, and Merlin, how she missed him. "And no clothes." Sirius waved his wand at the water to fill the tub, then unzipped his pants and took them off along with his underwear.
''I'm sure yes.''
Red.
{passion, lust, war, danger, violence}
It is during a meeting of the Order that Hestia loses her temper.
She was sitting next to Sirius and holding hands with him, as they usually are, talking quietly about everything and nothing while Molly doesn't come down and McGonagall doesn't arrive. Everyone is there, she knows it, and every now and then someone looks at the nearly untouched glass of firewhiskey in front of Sirius, but she doesn't care, she keeps talking to him and making him chuckle softly, saying how indecent her new panties are just because she likes to tease him.
And because things are getting more and more tense.
Living in that house didn't just affect Sirius, but she too, and every now and then Hestia finds herself close to breaking everything in sight, blind with rage that Dumbledore has trapped them there like a lab rat, thinking that if Sirius doesn't explode that house, or that damned picture of his mother, she goes.
Anxiety gnaws at her inside and every day she wakes up thinking that this will be the last, tomorrow they will return to their home, safe and sound, enjoying their freedom again, and Hestia won't have to worry about talking portraits and a elf that pisses her off, no matter how kind she tries to be.
But when Snape speaks - something she's been ignoring since he arrived - she just can't take it anymore.
''Like Black could do anything, being trapped in here.'' He says, in that petulant tone he's been throwing at her, Sirius, James and Lily every meeting, and Hestia's chest burns, finally finding a good target to take out all her anger.
She knew Lily said it was best to ignore him, she tried to do it, but Hestia couldn't do it anymore, not when Dumbledore trapped them there now that they were no longer useful making them almost insane. Driving Sirius insane! How can he trap him in the only house he knows would affect him, in an environment where for years he's been frowned upon and unloved, making him wake up the demons that have long been sleeping.
Sirius was getting sick in there and Dumbledore couldn't care less.
Without saying a word she reached for her wand at her hip, standing up and nearly knocking over the chair behind her, making everyone look at her as she sewed Snape's mouth shut and stopped him from talking any more, eyes getting huge in his face.
"Speak one more time of my husband and I'll kill you, and I'm not even kidding," Hestia said, her voice low and her eyes hard on that coward. ''I've killed a lot of Death Eaters in the last few years, and I would have done it to you in a blink if Dumbledore hadn't convinced himself that you're worth some shit. But I don't believe it, Snape, I know you, you're nothing more than a scared coward who runs when sees the boat sinking, so think twice before talking about my husband, because I can kill you without you even seeing where the spell came from.'' She undid the invisible ropes that they kept his mouth shut, and the man let out an exaggeratedly long breath of air, but Hestia didn't mind.
She sat back down, feeling her heart beat much faster than normal, hot blood rushing through her veins and making her feel feverish.
Sirius smiled, putting his arm over her shoulder and staring at Severus near the other end of the table, his eyes blazing with anger but still looking too scared to speak. Coward.
It didn't take long for the meeting to start, obviously Dumbledore being an idiot every time he needed to talk to her, probably wanting to remind her who was in charge here, like he did at Hogwarts. Well, she hadn't been his student for years now, so she couldn't have cared less about it, honestly.
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Hopeless
Ishikawa Yuki AU
Summary : When the pieces started to fall together, she knew she had no choice but to let him go.
Genre : slice of life, angst
Notes : long. Self-indulgent. 3rd person POV. Not sure if I got the characterization right. I wrote this all in one night. Not proofread, so there might be misspelled words and grammatical errors. Based on a prompt. Best read on pc/laptop/browser (if you’re on your phone), since the layout changes when it’s read/opened on the phone tumblr app.
When did she start noticing it?
Was is sometime after their relationship reached the eighth month?
Or was it when he started showing strange signs or started doing things that were very much unlikely for him to do?
+++
Even before they started dating, when they were just friends, Yuki had always listened. Whether she’s venting, or just simply talking about how her day was; he would always, always listen.
And so, when she caught him staring into space that day, just as she was talking about her thoughts on one of the matches she recently watched, she felt a little odd.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He shook his head lightly. “I’m just a little bit exhausted. I stayed up watching the team’s past matches. For reference.”
She chuckled. That sounds just like him. Always finding opportunities to improve. He never thought of anything or anyone lightly. He always believes that there is always something new to learn from everyone regardless of age and experience.
She gave him a little smile and brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek. “You’ll do well. Your teammates got your back. You know that, right?”
He nodded.
And she brushed off the odd feeling. Yuki was just being…. Yuki.
_________________________________________________________
On their date the following week, Yuki suggested that they go to their usual place for dinner; a restaurant with tatami rooms for private dining, surrounded by luxurious green landscaping to cater to the demands of the many wealthy patrons who frequent the restaurant. She’s not used to at all, since she grew up in an ordinary, middle-class family, but the food is heavenly, and the restaurant provides a safe space for the both of them to spend some time together.
Yuki was reading the menu, seeming unsure of what he would have that evening. He was probably being cautious of his diet, she thought.
“I think I’ll have the usual.” she spoke first while Yuki was still scanning the menu. It’s the same food that she always had every time they went to the restaurant. Yuki was the one who suggested it when he first brought her to this restaurant, and she was teased a lot by him for not wanting to try anything else other than that particular menu, to the extent where he no longer needed to ask her what she would have whenever they go to this place for a meal.
She stifled a laughter when she remembered how Yuki used to tease her all the time about it, how he used to attempt to steal her food and cutely asked her to finish the tomatoes in his plate, and how they often argued about the secret ingredients in the menu. This restaurant held all those memories.
She was happily smiling at the thought, until Yuki asked,
“Hold on… which one is it again?”
_________________________________________________________
Two weeks.
They didn’t see each other for two weeks after that last date. Yuki had a busy schedule, filled with practice, meetings, interviews and photoshoots. It wasn’t the first time they couldn’t see each other for a long period of time.
But it was the first time that Yuki couldn’t respond to a lot of her calls.
She was probably calling at the wrong time. His schedule usually ends at 10 p.m, but he must’ve had extended meetings with his manager after that. Or he just wanted to rest. After all, not all of her calls were left unanswered. He did answer some of it. And as she suspected, he was just exhausted. Of course he was. After all, he was the team’s ace.
She understood her position. She understood his as well. This is as normal as their relationship would allow. Who he is… does not allow them to have what other couples have. They could not have that stroll at a park under the cherry blossom trees. They could not have those cheesy movie dates. They could not even go to the beach to watch the sun set, since there is a high risk of fans and paparazzi finding him.
Regardless, she was content. She loves him, and she would go above and beyond to make sure his career is not jeopardized by their relationship in any way, even if it means that she could not eat sundaes on broad daylight with Yuki.
+++
[Hey, how was your day? How was practice?]
She texted him.
[It was good.]
Came his reply.
[Did you have fun? Is Takahashi still messing with you since that day you accidentally ate his bread? Haha]
He responded,
[No, not really.]
Strange. It wasn’t like him to give that kind of replies. He usually would talk a lot, even in his texts. He would vent about how his teammates kept teasing him for being so popular, or how much he wanted to eat greasy, deep-fried food.
This time, it was really strange.
[Hey.. are you alright?]
She hit ‘send’.
Two minutes later, a reply came.
[Yeah. Just dead tired. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m going to bed. Good night.]
_________________________________________________________
This went on for a week more. The short replies, the unanswered calls, the brief conversations. To say that she was not upset was clearly a lie, since things weren’t like that before. And it’s not like he didn’t respond to her calls and texts AT ALL. He did. It’s just that.. it has become somehow different.
Or was she the one who became strange? Has she become… clingy? Could it just be her mind playing tricks on her? Or perhaps… this is what to be expected when one is dating a famous athlete?
Then again, beggars can’t be choosers.
She should be more understanding of his job. She should be supportive. There are things that she herself has not understood yet about how the industry works and she’s sure that Yuki already has a lot on his plate. He isn’t just an athlete. He is an ambassador, a representative, and to an extent, an idol to many.
She shouldn’t ask too much of him.
_________________________________________________________
It was on one Friday morning where she had to call in sick after waking up in shock, immediately running to the toilet and vomiting. She knew right away that she caught a high fever.
Has she not been taking care of her health lately? Was she stressed at work?
Overthinking?
Regardless, with shaking hands, and with the little consciousness she had left, she left a voice message for a close friend. She had promised him that she’d join him in a co-op expedition on Monster Hunter later that night.
“Hey, Yuji.. I can’t join you tonight.. high fever.. Need to rest. Sorry.. I’ll join you some other time, okay?”
With that, she hung up, mustered as much strength as she could, pulled up the covers and fell into an uneasy sleep.
+++
She was awoken by the sound of plates being handled. Her eyes shot open.
Burglar?
Terrified, she turned around slowly, only to breathe out a sigh of relief when she saw the person in her house. She had forgotten that she gave him the spare keys to her house.
“Gosh..Yuki.. You scared me..”
“Oh, hey, you’re awake.” he replied, arranging something on the kitchen counter.
“W..what time is it? How long have I been sleeping?” her hand roamed around for her phone. She found it and checked the time. To her surprise, she was out cold for a good seven hours and it’s already 3 in the evening. She groaned. Her whole body still felt heavy, but that sleep was very much needed.
“Are you alright?”
Yuki came to her and sat next to her on the bed.
On his lap, was a bowl of soup.
She stared at the bowl, and then.. at her boyfriend.
“Did you come here and….cook?”
“Yes..? And.. I know you’re sick and all, but how come I only found out about it from Nishida? Why didn’t you call me?” he asked out of sheer curiosity while helping her to sit up straight. She remembered the phone call this morning. “Oh.. I told him I couldn’t join our gaming session tonight.. he needed help taking down a boss. I didn’t have much strength to call anyone after that.”
“Taking down a boss..? Is it that important? You guys are ridiculous.” he teased.
She let out a weak chuckle. “Hey, Shara Ishvalda is not ridiculous. What’s ridiculous is you, suddenly showing up in my place after God knows how long we haven’t properly talked to each other.”
She meant is as a joke, but despite the fever flowing painfully in her veins and biting painfully at her joints, she could still notice the change in his expression. Oops. Did she say something wrong?
“I understand you’re busy. I shouldn’t ask too much of you.” she added, but Yuki was silent. The expression on his face was unreadable.
Was he upset? What exactly happened to him lately? Is he exhausted? Stressed? What is he hiding from her? Was something bothering him? Was it work?
Was it guilt?
Her thoughts were cut off when Yuki handed her a spoon. “I hope it tastes okay.” he spoke.
“Well... unfortunately, my tongue is currently deprived of its senses… and therefore, I deem your soup…”
She took a sip and imitated Gordon Ramsey’s face expression as best as she could, “…mediocre in terms of its taste.”
Her attempt to lighten up the mood worked.
Yuki was laughing softly.
Ah, there he was. Her Yuki.
The person who had made her heart pound like a drum, the man who often put others before him, the man who made her realize just how much she could love someone. She hasn’t seen that smile for such a long time. She missed that smile.
She missed him.
All she could do was stare at the man in front of her. With trembling fingers, she touched his cheek. “I missed this, Yuki. I missed you.” she said meekly. He took her hand in his own, but was silent for some time before saying,
“I’m here.”
“I know you’re busy. I know people expect a lot from you. I know you tend to carry the burden all on your own. I respect that. But-- I also want you to know that if you need any help, all of us are here for you. Me, your teammates, your family.. I want you to always remember that you---”
Yuki’s phone on the night stand vibrated, signalling an incoming call.
Yuki immediately answered the phone call and walked towards the kitchen, where she couldn’t hear him.
It was a short phone call. After it ended, Yuki went back to sit next to her on the bed. But this time, she could no longer form any words.
As much as she was surprised that she was interrupted mid-conversation, she couldn’t stop the chills that ran down her spine. Immediately, that feverish burn in her veins was replaced by something much, much more agonizing, and she could feel blood rushing to her head, trying to make sense of what she had seen.
She saw the caller ID, and she knew who it was.
She knew that name. She noticed that Yuki probably didn’t realize that she had already seen it, considering how he was trying to act normal after that phone call, but somehow… just somehow…
Everything started to fall into place. Everything started to make sense.
_________________________________________________________
Of all Yuki’s friends and teammates, only a few had personally known her. She had grown close to Yuji after she and Yuki started dating (especially when he found out both of them loved games), and Takahashi texts her every now and then, spilling tea about the things her boyfriend do during training, and sometimes sent her pictures of young Yuki because he absolutely loved it when she teased Yuki about it.
Masa, though, is the only one who knew her way before she met Yuki. In fact, he was the reason they met in the first place. She and Masa coincidentally shared the same social circle, and their passion and interest in volleyball and manga made them friends.
When Masa heard her voice over the phone in all seriousness, he knew something had definitely happened. She was not the type who talks about what happens in her relationship to others. She had always tried to resolve any conflicts on her own first. It was her way of protecting herself and Yuki.
When she had finished talking, he became silent, mainly due to shock and disbelief. Several things were running through his mind. What was Yuki doing? Has that boy lost his mind?
“Or maybe I’m the one overthinking? I’m not sure what to think of anymore, Masa.” she spoke. She wanted to believe that she was indeed overthinking. That she saw wrong. That everything happened was either just a coincidence or just Yuki feeling exhausted because of work. She wanted to believe in Yuki.
But it was hard. It was hard when the pieces just somehow…fit together.
“Hey, I’ll try and talk to him somehow and find out what’s going on. You should try to calm down and save your worries for later, okay?” he assured her.
They had been friends for a long time. She knew she could count on him. Plus, Yuki had always looked up to Masa. If there is anyone in the team who could get Yuki to talk about his feelings and thoughts in all honesty, it would definitely be Masa. She trusts him.
She trusts his judgment.
She wished she didn’t.
Because four days later, she received a phone call from Masa, confirming all her worst fears.
_________________________________________________________
Other than the restaurant, they have another secret spot where they could meet without the prying eyes of others.
It was at a small, empty playground on the hills. During daytime, the place would be crowded with children and the elderly who found the place suitable for walks and light jogs. At night, the playground is completely silent due to its not-so-close distance from the nearest neighborhood, and because of it’s location on the hills, the playground is a lot colder and eerier at night.
It was ideal enough for Yuki and her. They would sit on the swings and talk about many things while looking at the view from the hills. On colder nights, they would stay in his car, eating snacks and enjoy each other’s company. She was happy enough to have him next to her, healthy and smiling. She couldn’t ask for more.
This time, however, when she looked at him as he got out of his car and walked towards her, she knew that she will no longer be able to even ask for anything more.
“Hey,” she started.
“Hey,” he replied the same.
No hugs. No kisses.
It had really dawned on her that everything was ending right there and then.
Where do they start?
Where do things start to end?
Can it end quickly?
It’s starting to feel really, really painful.
She looked at him. Stared at him. His eyes, that see the best in everyone. His nose, that he loves to scrunch. His lips.. that had showered her with soft kisses. His hands... that had given her warmth for so many times.
How did things turn out this way?
But she knew she had to do it. It had to be done. What’s the use of a having a relationship if only one of them is committed to it?
“You know I’m breaking up with you, right?”
The words unexpectedly came out smoothly. She didn’t know she could be so… composed.
Inside, however, she felt as if every inch of her was slashed with a knife.
It seemed that he had already anticipated it. She could read the expression he wore on his face.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” she asked.
He paused for some time. And lightly nodded.
She stared at the view. The city used to look so vibrant from where they were. Now, it just looks like random lights piling on top of each other.
It’s making her dizzy.
She turned around to face the other way.
Calm down. Calm down.
“I figured it out early on.” she added.
She heard Yuki taking a deep breath. He didn’t look at her.
Guilt.
He was about to say her name, but she was quick to stop him. “No. Don’t. Don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t..need to hear it. I already know you’re sorry, Yuki.”
Don’t call my name. This is already hard . If you call my name, I’m not sure if I would be able to let you go.
“Instead of saying you’re sorry… I just hope that you would treat her better. Treat her nicely. Appreciate her. Respect her. Make things work, no matter what happens.”
Yuki stayed silent, and she continued,
“I realized that it is no use holding on to you, on this relationship, when it’s obvious that your heart is clearly with someone else.”
Breathe. It is for the best. Breathe.
“And so, Ishikawa Yuki… I release you from this bond.” she spoke. Her lips formed a little smile, attempting to diffuse the heavy tension in the air. Yuki could only stare at her, wondering how could she stay cheerful despite knowing what he had done. He was amazed at how calm and level-headed she was at that moment despite the obvious pain in her voice.
“So.. you should go now. Tell her that we broke it off. Assure her, and yourself, that we ended things on good terms. And move on, Yuki. I will move on as well.” she spoke again, giving him a light push on the shoulder.
Go. Please, just go.
“I… I can’t just leave you here.” he finally spoke.
“I won’t be here all night, silly. My car is right there, and I have work tomorrow.” she chuckled.
Breathe. Breathe. Just… breathe.
Their eyes met for the last time, and with a strain in his voice, Yuki finally said, “Thank you. For everything.”
She forced a smile.
It felt like an eternity. When will this end?
She smiled, almost bitterly. “Go.” she insisted.
And he did. She watched his back as he walked away. She watched him as he got into his car. And she waved her hand lightly as he drove off.
Breathe.
However, as soon as his car was out of sight, her knees buckled, and she knelt on the the ground. Biting her hand, she tried to stifle her cry as much as she could as she could no longer stop the tears streaming down her face.
It hurts. It hurts!
Help me. Anyone. Please. It hurts..
Please stop this pain.
How did things turn out this way? What did she do wrong? What exactly went wrong? What could’ve she done better?
Did she not love him enough?
Why couldn’t he give her his heart?
What did she do wrong?
What did she do wrong?
What did she---
“Hey.” a voice came from behind her and she looked up in shock.
“M…Masa?”
Masa read her tear-stained face as he knelt next to her. “He told me this afternoon that he was meeting you here tonight. I told him to come clean about the whole thing.” he spoke as he took out a handkerchief and handed it to her.
“God, you’re a mess.”
“S…shut up and let me grieve.” she managed to retort in between sobs. The tears haven’t stopped. How could they when she had held them back for so long?
“Alright, alright.” Masa calmly spoke and sat next to her on the ground. She looked at him as if he was insane.
“C..Can’t a girl cry alone?” she stifled another cry.
“In this place? Gosh, no. What if a couple comes here to have a good time and suddenly saw a girl crying on the ground? Good Lord, you’re going to scare the living daylights out of some poor souls. Have mercy on them, will you?”
She knew he didn’t mean it. She knew he meant well, judging from the hand on her shoulder that hasn’t left since he sat down.
She clicked her tongue as a joke. Words have seemed to fail her by now. She wasn’t sure what to do next. The love of her life has left her. What will she do now? How will she move on? Can she move on to begin with?
The thought alone scared her, and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably again.
“I..loved him, Masa.. but.. it wasn’t enough…”
She felt him pull her closer and she felt his hand gently guiding her head to lean on his shoulder. “Here, I’ll lend you my shoulder. The first 30 minutes is free. After that, you will be charged 500 yen per minute.”
She chuckled a little, but said nothing further. She let herself cry as much as she wanted to on his shoulder, the handkerchief was no longer of use at that point. His jacket was stained by her tears, but he made no noticeable expression of discomfort. He had been such a great friend despite his mean jokes, and she appreciated his presence next to her. She wasn’t sure what she could’ve done if Masa wasn’t there. Probably something really, really stupid and reckless.
�� +++
She woke up the next morning in a mess. She felt horrible, her eyes were still swollen, and her head felt unbelievably heavy.
Nevertheless, she woke up.
Just then, she received text messages. They’re from Nishida and Takahashi.
[Good morning! I heard from Masa-san that you and Yuki-san broke up. No worries! Let’s take down another boss tonight! I’ll let you curse as much as you want!]
[Mornin’! Hey, look at this silly photo of Nishida.]
She looked at the photo Takahashi sent. Yuji was getting hit by a ball while he was tying his shoelace. It was a bit blurry, but Yuji’s expression was definitely silly. She chuckled.
It turned out that Masa really didn’t waste any time to spread the news. Well, it’s better if everyone knew. It would save her from many awkward moments in the future.
And then came another text. This time, it’s from Masa.
[Oi, good morning. How are you feeling?]
She chuckled. She felt a slight warmth from the text messages.
[I feel like shit]
[Of course you do. I would be surprised if you suddenly said you’re fine, especially after what you put my jacket through last night. I found dried snot on it this morning.]
She unexpectedly laughed out loud.
[I’ll buy you another one. Sheesh.]
She managed to smile a little more.
She still wasn’t so sure how she was going to move on, but she will take the first step.
And she got up.
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31, because I can’t see it fitting Ian/Mickey easily and know you’re a good enough writer to prove me wrong ☺️
Thanks! I tried. 🙂
Prompt 6: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”
Ian’s Box of Crap
Being currently unemployed, Mickey didn’t have much of a leg to stand on when attempting to deflect Ian’s demands that he get chores and household tasks done while his husband was out earning an honest paycheck. He wasn’t even allowed to shake people down anymore, let alone pull robberies, or get back into the drug trade. Ian had made it clear that divorce wasn't off the table if Mickey deliberately did something stupid that got him thrown back in prison for a long stretch.
He didn’t much like being told what to do, but what he liked even less was not having Ian in his life. He’d had to go too many years without him in the past, and nothing good ever came during those times. Unfortunately, Ian Gallagher was it for Mickey Milkovich. That meant that he actually had to stay in line and put in the work if he didn’t want to lose him again. Ian wasn’t as soft as he used to be. Never really had been at his core, but the maturity of age had cemented his backbone rather rigidly, and Mickey was actually loathe to piss him off too badly these days.
So he did the bullshit grunt work requested of him, just to keep the peace. He was tired of fighting every day of his life, and what was the point of marrying Ian if they weren’t going to try and make each other happy?
In the past couple weeks, Mickey had done everything from laundry and dishes, to vacuuming and mopping. He’d patched up a couple of big holes in the wall that Frank had made, and fixed the loose parts of the wooden outdoor steps and banisters, both front and back. He’d even gone so far as to babysit the tiny, helpless Gallagher spawn a few times, which had been interesting and somewhat terrifying. Then Ian had given him this look when he caught the scene one afternoon, eyes shining, smile beaming. It reminded him of that brief time they’d helped take care of Yevgeny, which made Mickey’s head spin. He didn’t need Gallagher getting the whole ‘having kids’ thing back in his head right now. Mickey was in no way ready for all that. Hadn’t been the first time, and they’d all seen how that turned out.
Today, he was supposed to clean out the attic. He told Ian that asking someone outside the family to do it sounded like a bad idea. How was he supposed to know what shit the Gallaghers wanted to keep, and what they wanted to get rid of? What if he made a mistake? If anyone had asked him what to keep from the hoarded piles of shit in the Milkovich house, he would’ve laughed in their face, then set everything on fire. Mickey wasn’t the sentimental type. So did Ian want him to just toss everything?
Ian had rolled his eyes, clarified that Mickey was a Gallagher now, and given him a run-down. Anything that had obviously been made or cherished by a Gallagher kid, any family photos and albums, or small boxes of keepsakes, those stayed. Anything that wasn’t being used by anyone, but could be of use and handed down to the youngest or recently shacked up of them, set them aside to be put in rotation. Anything that worked, but they already had one of or didn’t need, donation box (because apparently they actually sometimes donated shit to the local shelter). And anything that looked completely unnecessary for anyone, throw it in a Best Choice trash bag, but don't take them to the curb yet. Ian would go over everything when he got home to make sure it was sorted correctly.
“So you’re gettin' me to do all this boring-ass grunt work, then you’re gonna have to go through it anyway? What the fuck, man?” he’d asked.
“It'll make the whole thing way easier on me, so can you just shut the fuck up and do me the favor? I’ll blow you later for your trouble.”
“Like you wouldn’t be doin’ that anyway.”
Ian had shrugged. “If you don’t, I won’t.”
“Threatening to withhold sex? That’s a bitch move if I ever heard one.”
“Whatever, deadbeat. You want me to support you, gotta help out when I ask. A blowjob would just be a bonus, because I’m generous of spirit.”
“I’m not gonna forget this hardcore manipulation, Firecrotch. I’ll get my revenge eventually.”
Ian merely kissed him on the nose. “Sounds like a plan. See ya.”
And he was out the door.
“Asshole,” Mickey’d muttered under his breath.
And now, a few hours later, here he was; sitting on the dusty, hard planks of the weird-smelling Gallagher attic, sorting through the memories and forgotten things of the family he’d married into less than six months ago. He’d dawdled as long as he could on the couch, eating junk food and watching his favorite daytime game shows, judge shows, and salacious ‘who’s the baby daddy?’ shows. The only hint of fun left in the remainder of his day was in the bong and the beer he’d brought with him up the rickety ladder. After every box sorted, he’d take a rip or two and chase the smoke with a long swig of cheap alcohol.
The most interesting things he’d found so far were some old pictures of Ian when he was little, his hair a curly mess, and his pale skin covered in dark freckles. His smile was too big for his face, and he looked goofy as all hell. Nothing like the hot hunk of man he was today. It was the Ian Mickey remembered from Little League a million years ago. And maybe he’d set one of the photos aside to keep for himself and taken some pics of others with his phone, so what?
Mostly he’d had to sift through little Debbie’s ridiculous girly shit, and Frank’s completely random assortment of insignificant trinkets with a side of what looked like bondage gear. He’d since moved on to a group of boxes obviously labeled by Carl when he was younger. He recognized the scrawl, occasional backwards lettering, and lack of possessive apostrophes. The words were short enough not to be atrociously misspelled, and consisted of a Gallagher first name in plural, followed by: ‘box of crap.’
Everybody had one, including Fiona, who hadn’t taken it with her when she’d left Chicago, and the kids she’d raised as her own, behind. The most scandalous item in there was a dildo of decent size that Mickey definitely would’ve packed in his suitcase if he’d been the one moving away as a single chick. The thought crossed his mind to pilfer it for his own collection, but he figured that Ian would be weirded out by the association. Sex toys were probably the only thing Gallaghers never shared between them.
Carl had a box of his own, semi-well-hidden compared to the others, and Mickey discovered why when he’d managed to get the copious amount of packing tape off. It was full of straight porn mags with big-tittied women and shaved pussies, underneath an array of dangerous weapons the family had forbidden him to have when he was underaged. He found everything from nunchucks, to throwing stars, to switchblades, to brass knuckles. No guns or attempted homemade bombs, thank fuck. He chucked the porn in the trash pile, cuz nobody needed to see that shit, and set the switchblade aside for himself, deciding to give the rest to Ian to sort out.
He saved Ian’s box for last, opening it up to find a grab bag of old army decorations, tattered paperbacks, comics, a bunch of loose paper covered in scribbles, and a stack of notebooks.
Mickey didn’t realize Ian was such a huge nerd that he’d kept his high school notebooks, but giving a quick flip through the first two revealed they weren’t school-related at all. He remembered Ian going through a phase when he was always writing shit down, ranting about having great ideas he needed to save for posterity. Before he went to the hospital. A manic phase. Probably one of many he’d cycled through, yet Mickey had missed some of those extremes.
Everything had been so chaotic then. He’d pushed Ian away, then gotten the same treatment in return. Their typical messiness pervaded everything back then. And now, he had in his hands Ian’s unfiltered thoughts about what happened back then.
“Fuck,” he said to himself, setting the notebooks down and going for the beer/weed combo again.
There were exactly two ways to go about this: he could put the notebooks back into the Ian box and not invade his privacy, or he could skim through them and hone in on the interesting relevant bits and maybe get a few long-pondered answers. On the one hand, Ian would probably get pissed if Mickey read them. On the other hand, Ian never had to know about it, did he?
It really wasn’t much of a choice… he’d always been curious as to what the hell was going through Ian’s head back in the day. They’d never exactly been great at talking things out, and he didn’t have it in him to try and make Ian relive some of the lowest moments of his life just to give Mickey some peace of mind. Plus, they were always facing some new bullshit obstacle head-on, so the past always just kind of got lost in the shuffle of their present difficulties.
Mickey took a deep breath and opened one of the notebooks again. The pages weren’t dated, and a lot of it didn’t make much sense. There were many lists with lines crossed out, but they didn’t describe things ‘to do,’ more like an endless inventory of concepts and feelings. The thought patterns were totally abstract, and Mickey couldn’t really make heads or tails of them. It hit him sharply in the chest when he realized that when Ian had been out of it, he’d really and truly been fucking out of it. These seemed like the crazed rantings of an unmedicated schizophrenic babbling on public transportation. It pained Mickey to the core, and it scared the shit out of him too.
He flipped through it fairly quickly, then opened the next one. It seemed to be calmer, more legible, and less unintelligible. It was more like a diary with bad poetry sprinkled in, and it only took a few pages for Mickey’s own name to jump out at him among the wall of words. It must have been written during Ian’s lost months, after going AWOL from the Army when he was 17.
He described running away from Chicago, scamming his early enlistment, crashing and burning his way out of bootcamp, shaking and selling his ass as a club boy, snorting, smoking, and swallowing all manner of substances, and crashing anywhere from penthouses to flophouses with sexual favors sprinkled in liberally. It was like the chronicle of a person going mad and coping in all the wrong ways. It surprised Mickey how emotional it made him to read these things in vivid detail. He’d completely forgotten how worried he used to be about Ian. When he was gone, when he went missing again, and when he started doing irrational things that could’ve ended so much worse than they did.
Ian was the one that had to live out all the drama and trauma of his disorder, but Mickey was the one caught on the sidelines, not having a single clue what to do or how to fix it. He’d never felt so useless or helpless in his entire life, even through all the bullshit he’d suffered growing up with Terry as a father. Maybe it was because of his age, or how Ian made him feel a certain way he’d never felt before. He just remembered hating it, and being so fucking sad.
These pages reminded him that through the mania, Ian was a bottomless well of sadness himself.
It was tough text to get through, and more than once, he felt like maybe he shouldn’t be reading it at all. Ian had never intended for other people to see his innermost thoughts, even Mickey. But it was impossible to stop now that he’d opened that floodgate. It was like reliving a part of their shared history through the eyes of his partner in crime. It was too fascinating.
After countless pages of dark tales from the void, Mickey came upon a page that was actually addressed to him. Surely, Ian had never intended to hand it over, but it was his nonetheless.
Mickey—
I never had the balls to tell you this,
But you’re the only boy I’ve ever loved.
I thought you loved me too,
But now I’m not so sure.
I’m so confused and I go back and forth,
Never really knowing what to actually think,
Or what the truth is.
All I really realize now is that
I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.
It took you forever to let me,
And now I just do it with anyone,
Cuz I don’t fucking care.
I just miss you,
And I wish you were here.
But also, I don’t,
Cuz I don’t want you to see me like this.
I’m having a great time on my own adventure,
But also not.
You shouldn’t be a part of it right now.
You’re on your own strange journey, I guess.
Maybe one day we’ll be on the same road together again,
And also for the first time, since we never really were.
Mickey barely had enough time to sniff and wipe away the stray tear that had fallen, when his husband’s voice startled him out of his reverie.
“You’re still up here?”
“Jesus Christ!” he cried out with a visible jolt of his body.
His head snapped toward the attic hatch, where Ian’s dumb red head was surveying the musty space. Mickey let the notebook fall from his grasp, but Ian was already climbing the rest of the way in before it occurred to him that he was about to be caught red-handed with journals that were supposed to be deeply private. He could only flip it closed and grab his beer to polish it off, before Ian was crouching in front of him and taking a seat.
“Can’t believe you actually did this for me, to be honest,” Ian said with a chuckle, glancing at the bong. “Anything left?”
“Baggie’s right there,” Mickey replied nodding his head to the left.
“Nice.”
Ian got distracted with loading a bowl, so Mickey very subtly tried to nudge Ian's notebooks aside with his foot, like maybe if they were slightly farther away, he could claim complete innocence as to knowing what they were.
He watched Ian take a couple hits before passing it to him, and Mickey welcomed the opportunity to temper his suddenly sullen mood.
“How was work?” he asked between hits, before passing back to Ian.
Ian snickered and furrowed his brow. “You never ask me about work.”
Mickey shrugged. “Don’t mean I don’t care.”
“Uh huh.” Ian looked even more skeptical, and finally glanced around at what Mickey had in his vicinity. That sent his brow up high, in a decent imitation of Mickey’s usual expressiveness. “Oh. That my box?”
Mickey gulped and nodded. “Yeah. Just sorting it out. Should’ve just left the whole thing for ya. Sorry.”
Ian’s gaze snapped to his face. “You read stuff.”
It was a statement rather than a question.
“Just a little,” Mickey admitted. “I shouldn’t have. Fuck, I’m an asshole.”
But Ian only shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay.”
“You don’t have to say that. I’d be pissed.”
“I’m not. I promise.”
“Really? You’re not mad?”
Ian shook his head again. “No. Actually, I’m kinda relieved.”
“How the fuck so?”
“It's all stuff I wanted you to know. I mean, part of me used to be really ashamed, maybe still is, but… another part of me always just wanted to be totally honest with you. In a way I haven’t ever been with anyone. Even Lip. But I didn’t have the words to say it, you know? And I know a lot of it is just scary rambling. I don’t even understand what some of it means, but the stuff that’s real… the lucid stuff… it’s depressing as fuck, but it’s the truth. We didn’t always tell each other the truth, but we showed each other. And this was something I couldn’t really show you. So maybe you were meant to find these. Do my dirty work for me.”
“Damn, Gallagher, that’s kinda heavy. These were… kinda heavy. Made me feel shit I’d forgotten about, you know?”
Ian nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t read ‘em in years, but I remember. It’s why I wanted to put ‘em away, I guess. Plus, I didn’t want someone else snooping around and finding out too much. I mean, you never know in this house. It’s possible every fucking Gallagher already read them, but I hope not.”
“Ian…” Mickey started, but didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say. Words of reassurance? It was all in the past, and Ian was doing so well now. He was diligent about his medication, and he hadn’t spun out of control since before prison. Anything Mickey said now would just be cold comfort, since that notebook version of Ian barely existed anymore. Ian was always afraid that it would recur, but Mickey wasn’t. They were truly in it together now, and he’d never let Ian cross the threshold into the uncontrollable. “I wish I coulda been what you needed me to be back then. However impossible it was. Some of it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even my fault, really. It was some shitty shit that happened to me. I reacted the only way I thought I could. There’s no use in either of us wishing we’d done things differently now. At least we got the right outcome, right? We’re together.” He clasped their left hands so that their wedding rings touched. “Forever.”
Mickey couldn’t help but snort. “Okay, you didn’t have to get that gay about it. I already had to suffer through a buncha your faggy teen poetry. I deserve a break from the high drama of it all.”
Ian laughed, kissed his hand, dropped it, then smacked him on the cheek. “Fuck you.”
“Just say when,” Mickey responded with a smile.
“After we go through all this shit, Romeo. Explain the piles.”
“Well,” said Mickey, pointing to the nearby corner, “Carl has a shitload of contraband in there. Weapons, not drugs. Frank has some shit that might be S&M gear, not sure, then aside from your lunatic journal ramblings, everything else is boring as shit. Oh, and Fiona left a big blue dildo.”
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Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever
Sickfic drabble that I wrote at 12 am. It’s probably terrible but it’s fluffy so I’m good. TW: scars, fever, sickness, illness, reference to torture/mutilation. Prompts used are bolded.
Spencer had a bad habit of ducking through doorways, even though the elevator doors were an easy foot taller than him. He carried two warm cups in his hand, a spiced chai latte for Piper and his own. He smiled to himself as Anderson opened the glass double doors before sidling past him. His girlfriend, he’d never get used to saying that, had taken it upon herself to get Spencer off caffeine. It hadn’t gone well until she told him that she’d have to drink coffee every time he did. It was working so far, in that every time he almost poured himself a cup of coffee, he’d remember every bad thing his mom and Piper had ever said about too much caffeine. He’d cursed his memory and settled for a soothing cup of ginger tea.
Spencer looked up to see their corner of the bullpen empty save for his pile of pending paperwork and consultancies. That was strange, he noted. Piper was notorious for waking up unnaturally early and as such, getting to work at exactly 8 am. Dismissing it as just a trip to the bathroom, he set the cup on her desk, before remembering her distaste for stains. Her discomfort had been challenged once by Derek who had called her ‘OCD’ and proceeded to challenge her. She’d get 10 bucks if she didn’t wipe away the mug stains on her desk for the next hour. Suffice it to say, she’d failed miserably, snapping at everyone who spoke a word to her and egregiously misspelling her report. Eventually, she’d shoved the takeaway cup she hadn’t even raised to her lips into the garbage before wiping down the desk. Unfortunately, she was exactly 40 seconds from winning the bet. Spencer placed the cup gently on a counter before settling into his seat, getting started on his paperwork. Emily arrived a few minutes later, a latte held firmly in her hand. “No Piper?” Emily asked, slipping into her seat.
“Haven’t seen her yet,” Spencer replied uneasily. He glanced at his watch.
“Maybe she’s with Penelope. She’s been having a rough time with JJ gone.” Spencer leaned back into his chair.
“You think we’ll get her back?”
“I hope so. We need her. I don’t know how we do this job without a communications liaison.” Spencer nodded, taking in a deep breath.
“We still have to do the job,” Spencer sighed, glancing over at Piper’s desk. She always knew how to make his fears go away. He remembered when he’d first told her about his addiction, how forgiving she’d been. That was before he knew she’d battled it before. But she had this magical way of making everything feel so much simpler. “She should be here by now,” he murmured.
“Maybe she took a day off,” Emily shrugged. “I know Rossi took a few days to work on his book.” Spencer nodded, a little uneasy. He was about to dive into his work again until Anderson marched over to Piper’s desk, lifting a large pile of files from her corner across from Spencer’s desk.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked in outrage. Piper would kill anyone who messed up her desk.
“Dr Bishop called me,” Grant said defensively. “Said she wasn’t feeling like coming to work, asked if I’d bring the files to her apartment. I don’t really have anything to do until Gina gets the forensic report from the Maryland case.” Spencer narrowed his eyes and Emily chuckled.
“Let the man do his job, Reid.” Taking it as a cue to leave, Grant pulled the files into a box and left promptly and Spencer tapped on his desk, still thoughtful as he stared at Piper’s empty desk. “My god, Reid, just call her,” Emily groaned as she pulled a file from her desk to start working on and he punched in her number into the dark receiver. It took a few rings until Piper’s stuffy voice filtered through.
“Anderson, where are my files? I have work to do, I can’t stay in bed.”
“Piper?” He heard muffled curses, and something crash on the other end of the line before her voice came through.
“Hello, light of my life. Have I mentioned how much I love you?”
“Yes, Pipes, is everything okay?”
“Yep, just peachy.” He heard a muffled cough on the other line.
“Piper, are you sick?”
“No… I’m just…tired?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“I don’t—Wait, the room’s spinning again...that’s not normal, is it?”
“No, it isn’t normal. Honey, you’re not making any sense.” He was very conscious of Emily’s stifled chuckle on the other side of the desk.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he heard her say after sneezing loudly. “’M fone.”
“Oh, well if your fone, then sure.”
“You know, last I checked, they don’t pay you to check my grammar,” she grumbled. and Spencer would’ve chuckled if he wasn’t so worried. “Besides, it’s like Dr Phil says, you don’t have a fever if you believe it strong enough.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m checking up on you.”
“No, really, pretzel, I’m fine. Everyone has colds, you don’t have to—”
“Pretzel?” A reluctant chuckle spilled from his lips. “You know what, I—I don’t care. I’m coming over.”
“No, don’t!” But the rest of her protest was deafened by Spencer placing the receiver into his landline.
“What’s up, pretzel?” Emily said, valiantly fighting back a laugh.
“Shut up,” he murmured as he left his seat, almost tripping over himself as he made his way up the steps to Hotch’s office. Emily was still laughing by the time he marched past.
Spencer found Anderson waiting outside Piper’s apartment. “Hey, Dr Reid,” Grant greeted him. “I tried calling her cell, she didn’t pick up. I’ve been waiting for her for 20 minutes and Gina’s almost done with her report—”
“That’s okay. You can give me the files. Besides, I’ve got the spare key.” He watched Anderson leave and carefully tucked the box under his arm before rummaging through his bag for his key. He pushed his shoulder against the door, calling out her name while squeezing through the door. But the sight of his girlfriend collapsed on the floor made him drop the files, rushing to her side. She moaned softly as Spencer rolled her on her back. Piper squeezed her eyes together. He called out her name again, but she just rolled to her side.
“Five more minutes, Mama,” she mumbled, and Spencer blinked slowly. Quickly, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, then to her neck.
“Oh, you’re burning up.” Ignoring the number of germs that were probably covering her entire body, Spencer slung her arm around his shoulder, slowly lifting her up. He shifted her weight, inching towards the bedroom. Piper was wearing one of his button-ups that he’d left at her apartment and a pair of sweatpants. She’d rolled up the sleeves high enough that her scars were visible. Her university seal glowered against her warm beige skin while faint white lines traced her other arm. Finally, Piper seemed to wake up for a moment and her weight was shared between them until her head hit the mattress and she let out a groan. Spencer retrieved her medical supplies, returning to the familiar room with an armful of various medications and inhalers. “Have you eaten anything?” Piper shook her head thickly.
“Waffles,” she mumbled. “With butter and whipped cream and chocolate and—”
“And DayQuil,” he finished for her as he pressed to fingers to the bridge of her nose, forcing her to open her mouth. He popped the pill in and passed her a glass of water. Grumbling, she swallowed it.
“I told you not to come,” she said nasally. “You’re gonna get sick, peanut.” He looked up; forehead wrinkled. “Not peanut?” Spencer smiled at her and she looked to the sky to take an enormous sniffle. “I can’t breathe,” she groaned before collapsing backwards onto the mattress.
“How’d you get so sick?” Spencer asked her, fumbling for the thermometer.
“Well, I remember I was really sad about JJ leaving so then I was eating ice cream and then Mrs Jameson came over,” she said deliriously. “She told me her cat got stuck up a tree. I think.” She shot up, sniffed deeply, relieved at being able to breathe for about 2 seconds until her nasal canal was blocked again and she groaned, collapsing sideways. Spencer stuck the thermometer into her mouth and Piper continued the story. “So, I left and what Mrs Jameson forgot to mention was that it was raining.”
“How did you not know it was raining?”
“Because I was blasting Linkin Park. I was sad, remember?”
“Right, duh,” Spencer scoffed, folding his legs under him next to the bed as he waited for the thermometer to ping.
“So, there I was, half-way up the tree, only for the cat to jump down. Only issue was, now I was stuck in the tree and it was raining a lot and if I took the wrong step, I’d probably fall.” Piper sighed miserably. “By the time I got home, I had a huge cold and probably a sinus infection. I figured chow mein and sleep would get rid of it. But no, my body can’t fight off a cold without turning into a bloody oven.” Spencer pressed a kiss to Piper’s forehead.
“How ‘bout a cup of tea?” Spencer murmured. “We can watch Doctor Who.” Piper’s eyes drooped and she hummed before shaking her head and wrinkling her forehead.
“No, I’ve got work to do. My paperwork—”
“Really?” Spencer challenged as his gaze hardened, a nearly impossible feat at Piper’s shrunken, stiff, pale body. “Where’s the last case we went on?”
“Maltimore,” she mumbled.
“And the names?”
“Sigmund Petersen and, um, Jilly Boel,” she said, grinning. “Fee, I’m sine!” She wrinkled her nose before the thermometer pinged and Spencer plucked it, careful not to touch the moist end.
“Baby, you’re 110 degrees.”
“That’s me,” she mumbled. “Always 110 per cent.” Spencer shook his head, moving to unravel Piper’s sleeves and tucking her into bed.
“You need to sleep.” Piper tried to mumble something, tried to fight the drowsiness but her body seemed to want to heed Spencer’s words and soon enough she was snoring softly. Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he got up from his uncomfortable seat next to the bed. He figured he’d have an hour before she woke up again, plenty of time to get Penelope to make her signature soup and clean up.
Piper rolled over, her hand migrating to settle under her pillow. Slowly, her eyes opened to find Spencer sitting in bed next to her, reading one of her books. “Thank you for staying with me,” she mumbled. Spencer looked over at her warmly.
“How do you feel?” Piper clutched her head, finding the energy to push herself into a sitting position.
“I feel thoroughly disgusting.” She smiled feebly at Spencer’s chuckle. He never laughed; Piper noted as Spencer adjusted her pillows. Always little chuckles and smiles. Sometimes it was hard to tell when Spencer found something funny, almost never at the moment. Most of the time he found things odd, but he’d always laugh about it after. He reached out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” Piper smiled. She still felt a little weak, but maybe the sickness was worth it if it meant a little love and affection from Spencer.
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PCPR Mini Big Bang Fic Claiming Time!
Today’s the daaaaay!
Under the cut, you will find the summaries of the fanfics our Writers have been working on. They have been posted anonymously, labeled only by number.
Artists, go through the summaries carefully and figure out which ones you’d like to work on the most! Please pick three choices and then hop on over to your email to send your fic claiming email to [email protected]! If you are confused as to how this process goes, please check your email inbox for emails Mod has sent concerning the full details on how to claim a fic.
For those not participating in this event, please feel free to read through the summaries as well to get a sneak peek of what our Writers have been working on!
Okay, that’s enough talking from Mod. Here are this event’s fics!!!
FIC #1 : CLAIMED!!!
He shuffles to the door, reaching for his gun just in case before he pulls it open, startling the short man who was waiting on the other side.
"Goddammit, Burger!" Vang0 hisses, leaning a little closer, eyes darting to the sides. "Can I come in?" He asks bluntly, as if they had been talking just a couple minutes ago and this wasn't their first chat in about a week. We're not that codependent.
"Wh- why are you out this late? And with a bag?" He frowns when he sees the uncharacteristic plain green duffle bag hanging from Vang0's shoulder, completely contrasting with the man's clothes, even if this time he went for more subdued colors.
"Let me in and I'll tell you," the blonde retorts as he puts a foot in the corner, ready to push himself inside as soon as Burger gives him room for it.
And Burger can't say no, has never been able to say no to Vang0, so he just rolls to the side and lets Vang0 in before slamming the door closed again.
"Why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate ya visiting, just... it's late and yer carrying a bag," he points out, tilting his head a little. "Y’know you can talk to me, Vang0, right?"
"Y-yeah, that's why I'm here, I-" he pauses, taking a deep breath "I got in trouble, I hacked into something I shouldn't have and I need to lay low for a while"
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Vang0 Bang0 messed up, big time, he needs help to get off the radar for a while, and of course that his best friend Burger Chainz would help him, and a road trip seems to be the best way to make him drop from the face of earth until things have quieted down. But the empty roads bring nostalgia and an unearths feelings both of them thought deeply buried. They say that road trips change you, why should that be different in the cyberpunk future?
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Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, getting together fic, Teen rating, no ao3 warnings needed, maybe some minor canon violence. It's a slightly introspective fic, more focused on how Burger realizes some stuff and how he deals with it.
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None
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FIC #2 : CLAIMED!!!
Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:15 PM
……
did u just ping me to ask
if i
wore
heals
Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:16 PM
*heels
yes i did and do you?
Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:17 PM
not usually?? ill wear em if its like a big thing or w e i guess (Edited)
i mean i havnet really had the oprotuntiy to wear em
Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:19 PM
are you intentionally misspelling words to make yourself seem cooler to me??
Vang0 I watched you lick a stranger’s nose
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Vang0 doesn't remember his birthday. Or his age. Or his interests, his likes, his dislikes, the password to his CollegeBoard account.
(Well, one of those is less important than the others.)
That being said, Burger wants to throw him a birthday party. Dasha is interested, despite herself. A series of assumptions are made, some feelings are hurt, and some lessons are learned.
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Ships: Vang0/Dasha/Burger if you squint but pretty much a gen fic
Rating: Probably G, bordering maybe on T for swearing
Sensitive content: Canon-typical amnesia, a little bit of angst, some oblique canon-typical gun mentions, maybe a panic attack later in the fic- I haven't quite decided if that's gonna happen or not yet?
Other info: It's a pretty lighthearted fic focusing on the relationship between the three of them! No AU, pretty much just comedy and fun all the way through. I haven't ironed out all the details of what's going to happen yet, but that's gonna stay pretty consistent- there'll be some angstier/less funny bits here and there, of course, though.
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None
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FIC #3 : CLAIMED!!!
Vang0 chewed his lip, feeling uneasy.
“What’s up, friend? You’ve got a big ol’ frown on your face.”
Vang0 blushed. “I’m not- I’m just- thinking. I mean, Joltik usually travel with their mother Galvantula, and it’s unusual for them to be seen without one, so these ones might have been separated from their mother.”
Burger frowned. “Well, that ain’t good.”
Vang0 nodded. “And Galvantula can get very angry when separated from their young.”
Burger opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone yelling loudly.
“BURGER! Burger, where the fuck are you!?”
Vang0 watched as Burger spun around and started towards the basement door.
“Burger!? Are you down here? There’s a huge fucking-”
“No, don’t come down-”
Burger was cut off as the door flew open, and someone catapulted into the basement.
Vang0 stared, eyes wide.
“Burger,” he said, “why the hell is Dapper Dasha in your house?”
-
Seven months ago, Vang0 woke up in a half-destroyed laboratory with no memories of his life before that. He's made something of a life for himself fixing people's technology, because he somehow knows how to do that really well.
And Burger Chainz is just another one of his clients. That is, until it turns out Burger's hiding ex-Pokemon Contest star Dapper Dasha in his house - who hasn't been seen in two years and just so happens to be Vang0's role model.
Vang0 definitely isn't freaking the fuck out. And he definitely isn't falling in love with Burger, either.
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Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. A Pokémon AU where Burger owns a farm, Dasha is an ex-contest star in hiding, and Vang0 has no clue what's going on. Rating: Teen. Warnings: mentions of blood and violence, nothing explicit
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None
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FIC #4 : CLAIMED!!!
clink!
clink!
clink!
Vang0 Bang0 jumped in his seat as the van hit a bump in the road, speeding upon the old, graying highway. The trinkets they had collected over their various traveled crashed and banged, one almost hitting the window. The loud trinkets and music blaring from the car stereo didn’t phase Vang0. They weren’t sure where he was going, but it sure wasn’t home.
Vang0 wasn’t focused on the road, he was focused on something...else. It wasn’t the other cars; there weren’t any. Most people stayed in Night City, so the roads weren’t full a lot, he knew that. But this road doesn't have anything, anything that would ever prove that anyone had ever existed near here. Not even a bottle.
-
After an eventful drive, Vang0 Bang0 finds themself on a beach with no discernable exits. No stairs, no ladders, not even a boat. Confused, Vang0 comes to terms with what he’s found in Night City, and what they’ve lost along the way. (Also they/he pronoun Vang0 rights)
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There are no ships in this fic. I am likely to rate it Teen and Up audiences, since while there is no explicit or intentionally upsetting content, it might get a little sad at times. I’m not 100% sure about the exact direction my fic is going to go, there might be a car crash (not to graphically described, Vang0 is not hurt very badly, since this is [spoilers] a dream or metaphor about Vang0 coming to terms with memory loss). And since it is a dream sequence with no clear exit, this may be an unreality situation.
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only minor Artists can claim this fic.
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FIC # 5 : CLAIMED!!!
Upon Burger barging into Dasha’s bedroom and announcing that he got tick- stop screaming Vang0, it’s just me, got tickets to a film festival tonight, are you guys in, Vang0 informed him that they had “a job tonight, Burger, did you even check the zoogle calendar, we’ll go tomorrow or something,” and no, of course Burger hadn’t checked the calendar, that’s Dasha’s job, and sure we can get tickets for tomorrow too but the Winston Rider film is only showing tonight and I thought you guys might be interested -- “Winst- do you mean Winona Ryder?” -- and after about five minutes of schedule comparisons Dasha simply shoved Vang0 out of the bed and declared that she was going to the movie with Burger, Vang0 was finishing their job, and Burger was going to make her some coffee because “it’s too fucking early for this” even though personally, Burger thought 11:00am was a perfectly reasonable time to be awake -- he was probably missing something, or maybe Dasha had just been up late, Vang0 was definitely a blanket hog and Burger knew from experience that sharing a bed with them would be more likely to result in a semi-conscious tug of war than a decent night’s sleep -- so Vang0 got up to do their job and Burger went and made some coffee and Dasha relocated to the couch, where she downed the coffee and some eggs and promptly fell back asleep for another three hours.
-
Burger loved Dasha, of course he did, he loved spending time with her and he thought she was beautiful and the idea that they might be dating -- might have been dating for a while -- sat warm and comfortable in his chest, but, except, it just was that, he hadn’t realized that how they interacted might be how two people that were dating behaved, he was just hanging out with his friend, he did stuff like this with Vang0 all the ti- -- now wait, wait a second, now hang on just a second --
a.k.a. 5 times Burger missed the point +1 time he caught a clue
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Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, Rating: Teen, content warnings for implied violence, drinking, implied sexual content
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.
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FIC # 6 : CLAIMED!!!
“What is this? What’s going on? Why am I dressed like I’m straight?” Vang0 hisses, gesturing to everything around him and the wrongness of it all.
“Seriously?” Candella rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “You couldn’t have scheduled your existential work breakdown until after our shift? You don’t see my lesbian ass complaining while I’m on the clock, do you?”
“I—What? Am I speaking another fucking language? You answered none of my questions!”
“Yeah because it’s 9am and the morning rush just ended so I do not have enough energy to indulge just,” Candella gestures at all of Vang0. “whatever is going on with you right now.”
“What’s going on with me right now is that I’ve found myself in a bougie caffeine establishment fever dream that just so happens to have the shittiest store playlist in the history of ever.” Vang0 says, bordering on manic as he looks up at the ancient speaker up in the corner of the shop. “Seriously, what is this terrible song?”
“Hey, Soul Sister by Train.” Candella still, amazingly, does not look alarmed or worried.
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Or the one where Vang0 is a barista at Zero and One’s Cafe...except he’s not.
This isn’t his fucking job, this isn’t his fucking life, and it takes a quick look around the horrifyingly low tech coffee shop he’s in and the fact that he’s missing a USB port on his neck to be painfully aware that this isn’t his fucking universe. This is a 2010s over idealistic portrayal of adult mundanity that he and his friends are stuck in and Vang0 has to get them all out of this nightmare before he commits customer service acts of violence.
Bring it on, Coffee Shop AU. Bring. It. On
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Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. An absurd existential romantic comedy where the trio somehow get transported into a Coffee Shop AU against their wills. Rating: Teen. Content warnings for slight absurd horror and canon typical violence.
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None
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FIC # 7 : CLAIMED!!!
“That guy in my english class,” Dasha could hear through the speakers the distinct sound of combat boots stepping on cement. What was Vang0 doing outside at this time, alone? “The one I told you about! Burger-”
“The one you’ve been crushing on for months and you’re too much of a coward to ask out?” Dasha already knew everything about this guy, Vang0 saw him on the first day of senior year in his english class and he hadn’t shut up about him ever since. 5’10, large and muscular shoulders, nice to everyone and just dense enough that everytime he said something you would automatically think “wow… thank fuck you’re attractive,” but not in an irritating way, you know?
Vang0 exhaled, which Dasha interpreted as a yes. “Well I couldn’t ask him out even if i wanted to,”
“Huh?” Dasha could hear the cogs in her own brain turning, trying to process what was being said to her.
“Because he’s dating a blonde g-” she heard Vang0 stop on his steps and his tone becoming more dry, “are you even listening to what I’m saying?”
Dasha yawned audibly and tried sitting up again. This time she succeeded, “yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. How did you find out about this and why did you decide to call me at nearly 2 am instead of just waiting until tomorrow?”
“I followed them and I saw them talking.”
“You’ve lost it.”
-
Dasha received a call from Vang0 at 1:47 am one saturday night, and everything went downhill from there.
They were not friends, she couldn’t understand why Vang0 acted like they were, but they weren’t, because Dasha didn’t have any friends. Except that, when she sees Vang0 struggling, for the first time in 18 years of life she decides that maybe this one idiot is worth getting soft over.
And so she helps him bleach his hair over a cup of coffee and a can of Spunky Monkey. Because why the fuck not.
-
Main pairing is platonic Vang0/Dasha, background ship is Vang0/Burger. The whole story is from Dasha’s POV. Genre is just a very typical teen romance story except that it’s focused more on platonic bonding rather than the actual romance. Vang0 calls Dasha late at night, tells her he wants to bleach his long dark curly hair and cut his bangs after seeing Burger with a blonde girl, and he goes to her place. She helps him do the deed in her bathroom (she’s still elite) as they realize how much they care about each other. Initially inspired by that one scene in Scott Pilgrim where Knives Chau dyes her hair. Rating: general audiences, content warnings: lots of swearing, implied addiction/addiction enabling, shoplifting mention.
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None
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FIC # 8 : CLAIMED!!!
vang0 officially disappears on march 23rd, 2040. exact time unknown, but whatever conspires that morning takes place before burger wakes up.
if he’s being honest with himself; he’s seen it coming for a little while now. vang0 isn’t the routine type, he’s young and whip smart and drinks so much redbull that the stuff must pump through his veins.
burger’s an old dog. older than vang0 by at least 2 years, he’s sure. he doesn’t have much, and god doesn’t that sound cliche, but he’s stupid and optimistic- and really. he must’ve known somewhere that the kid wouldn’t stay. he’s got a nasty drug habit that burger cant support and a look in his eyes like he wants the world- burger cant even buy him a fake ID.
this happens sometimes, the coming and going. vang0’ll disappear for a week if he’s lucky, a month if he’s not, but never longer than that.
no use crying over spilled milk.
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vang0 goes missing, burger velmently pretends nothing is wrong until he doesnt, and dasha has to pick up the pieces.
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missing person fic, burger/dasha/vang0 implied, but nothing explicitly mentioned or talked about, drug use mentioned, mature, canon typical violence, kidnapping, and other canon typical shit- it is night city after all lmao, kind of introspective, alot of burger just thinking back on his relationship w vang0 and shit, but there is some plot as well ig
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None
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FIC # 9: CLAIMED!!!
“Anyway, dude, what’s up? Or did you just come over for a cola because you ran out of your own?”
“Oh, right,” Vang0 says. He is still thinking about the man, and Dasha, and Dasha and that man, and Dasha’s long fingers and Dasha’s hair falling over her face as she purses her lips and blows upwards, her breath scattering strands of brown hair around her sharp cheekbones. “Um, there was something on the forum, I think - I think there’s a thing. For us. Should we call Burger?”
“Oh, Burger’s here,” Dasha says. “Somewhere. Burger!” she yells.
“Burger - but he spent the night?” Vang0 says, brain processing too slow somehow.
Dasha doesn’t respond.
“Did you -”
“Have a threesome?” Dasha asks, in her usual blunt way. Her face is pretty expressionless, eyes severe under the liner and blinking less than a person should, but Vang0 knows her pretty well, he can see the corners of her mouth turning up. That means she thinks something is funny. “I don’t think so. Burg!” she calls over her shoulder. “Did we?”
-
When Vang0 sees a JumpTrash post about vandalism at a club down town, he figures it will be an easy job for the trio - find out who did it, have Burger intimidate them, done. But things are more complicated than they seem, and the gang ends up drawn into a complex scheme involving the Brotherhood of the Screaming Abyss, conspiracies and hit men, and people from their past they thought were long gone. Along the way, they'll have to decide what they want out of this job - and what they want from each other....
-
This is basically an elaborate CAPER, with a bunch of feelings and shit thrown in. It's a job and then it's a crime story! Its kind of a noir? Can I write a noir? WE"LL FIND OUT. It's gonna be fairly long assuming I can get my act together and put in all i want to put in. Like every good story, it's got plot and whatnot but the plot is just a fulcrum around which to wrap some found family polyamory shit, baby. It's Vang0/Dasha/Burger, duh and it takes them a minute to get there but they'll get there! Its gonna have canon-typical violence, basically - none of the trio die or anything, but other people do, and there's blood. There's gonna be a sex scene because I'm not an AMATEUR. Drug use, too, but mostly in happy fun ways. I haven't fully sussed out some of the flashbacks, but probably some oblique references to past traumas, probably Vang0. Nothing explicit, no reliving events or anything. Also i'm 1000 years old, be warned!
CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.
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i cannot agree about CA being innocent. she literally had deleted Google searches like “fool proof suffocation” and extensive searches for chloroform on the day of the death. told the cops she had talked to Caylee the day she was reported missing, even though she was long dead, said she worked at Universal studios, and didn't admit the truth until she had failed to show them her desk. she told them Caylee had a nanny (whose name was literally Zanny, after Casey's drug of choice) that had taken and killed her. even if the cause of death was drowning like some people say, then why the duct tape? that for me cements the idea that this was not just negligence turned into a cover up. there was a lot of evidence kept out of the trial (like the Google searches) that I think really hurt the chances of her being convicted.
Aokay imma break this down point by point i’m not trying to be mean this is just my opinion and i find this case v interesting so pls don't take this as me attacking u or anything💖 this ended up very long so here’s a read more
The google searches
So basically I’m not under the impression the chloroform searches happened the same day Caylee died if I’m remembering correctly, what they did correlate with was a post her boyfriend made on Myspace (facebook maybe????) which was basically a meme that said ‘win her over with chloroform’. she sees the post, googles chloroform, then the immediate search she makes after this is ‘self defence’
the foolproof suffocation one is dodgy af and hard to defend, but if you look at the phone and online history of that day there are a few interesting points if we’re building a timeline.
Cindy leaves for work at 7am. We can assume at this point Caylee is alive.
Casey leaves her parents house by 4.11pm. we can assume by this point Caylee has died and her body has been dumped in the park.
but a lot happens between this
between 7.45am and 2.21pm there is constant activity on both Casey’s computer and phone, the most noteworthy of this activity being a phone call. It is important to note that one thing that is consistent through Casey’s browsing and phone history is that she was always using one or the other. She is on the phone with her best friend Amy from 1.44pm- 2.21pm, and after this, there is a gap in browsing history until 2.51pm when she makes the foolproof suffocation search (with suffocation being misspelled), and clicks on a website that deals with ways to commit suicide via suffocation. After this, there is no further gap in her browsing and phone history. She talks to a friend at 2.22pm (one minute after the suffocation google search) who describes the conversation as abnormal, and she is talking about having to find a new place to live. After this she talks to her dad on the phone, then proceeds to try and call a number of people, including her mother multiple time, her boyfriend and her ex boyfriend, all of which go unanswered.
Based on the timeline we can assume that whatever occured happened prior to the 2.22pm phone call to her friend, and therefore also prior to the foolproof suffocation search. It is likely that this was in response to Caylee's death, and was more suicidal inclination than homicidal.
Duct tape
So the thing with the duct tape isn't very nice but uhhh...... the Anthony family had a tradition that when burying pets they would wrap them in their favourite blanket, then a garbage bag, duct tape the garbage bag and dispose of the body. That’s how Caylee’s body was disposed of, and that’s why the duct tape was there. There’s also some spicy stuff surrounding the dude that found the body potentially moving it but that’s a whole other Thing that i won’t get into but he is DODGY.
Casey partying (the Xanex thing) and the lying
Okay so like...... here’s the thing...... based on literally ALL of the character witness testimony Casey did. not. like clubbing. like at all. They described her as a homebody who did not like going out and an excellent mother who loved spending time with her kid, and when they did stuff together she would try and make them do things she could bring Caylee to. The only person who seemed to think she liked clubbing was her friend Amy who Casey had a history of saying shit too just to make her happy. an example is an instance where Amy wanted to move in with Casey, Casey said yes and acted like she was 100% down for despite the fact that she literally had no way to pay for it and just made excuses until Amy eventually gave up on it. This kind of things happened all the time with Amy. Amy said that Casey could never go out with her because either she couldn't find a babysitter (Cindy probably would have watched Caylee if asked lbr) or that she had to work. We know for a fact that Casey didn’t have a job. She literally just didn’t like going out and didn’t want to let Amy down so she lied to her. Which is was Casey did because she was a compulsive liar, and being a compulsive liar doesn’t make you a murder. I have a friend who’s a compulsive liar and when I catch her in lies she just keeps digging herself deeper and deeper until either she confesses to lying or I let it go, and this is EXACTLY what Casey does.
Anyway so now we’ve established that Casey does not like partying we’re gonna have to address the partying she was doing while Caylee was missing. Now this entire point is kind of misleading. Casey did not party nearly as much as you think she did. Her time away from her parent's house until Caylee was reported missing is split into two sections, when she was living with her boyfriend, and when she was living with Amy.
Her boyfriend worked at a nightclub (I cannot remember his exact position but it was high up enough that Casey used to help out a lot). The times she ’went clubbing’ while she was living with him she was essentially working. The infamous hot body contest? at her boyfriend's club. They didn’t have enough woman so she was asked to do it and she did. Most of the time there she spent managing the drink girls. She was not exactly partying.
The times she did go out clubbing was when she was living with Amy, she can’t say she can’t find a babysitter when she’s living with the girl and she knows full well her kids not there, and she can only use work as an excuse to many times, and we know she has issues saying no to Amy, so she goes clubbing. I could have missed it but i have no memory of Casey ever admitting to using Xanax recreationally, and that’s just speculation based on the name.
Additionally, it should be noted that whenever Caylee was ‘at the nanny’ while Casey was at work, she was literally just hanging out with her kid all day. like we know she wasn’t at work because she didn’t have a job.
Proof of drowning
Honestly, I think we can agree that the most reliable family member is Cindy. George has some fkn issues that I'm not going to get into in this and Casey is Casey so yeah, Cindy’s the best there is.
And Cindy says some interesting shit that illudes to the fact that maybe Caylee did drown.
Firstly, it’s an established thing that when talking on the phone Casey would leave Caylee unattended (the phone call with Amy from 1.44pm- 2.21pm. This is likely when Caylee drowned based on the timeline.
We know that when Cindy got home from work that day she found the pool ladder down and she was not happy. She called George to berate him about it and commented on it to her coworkers the next day.
Right after Caylee was reported missing and way before any growing had been mentioned Cindy called one of the detectives and expressed again how concerned she was about the pool ladder being left down, fearing that Caylee had drowned
Literally everyone involved in the case, including those outside of the Anthony family expressed that the pool was a major safety hazard that Caylee repetitively was trying to get into. she was obsessed with swimming. Casey’s boyfriend said on one occasion Caylee had attempted to run straight into the pool at his apartment upon arriving and Casey had to run after had and stop her from jumping in.
We know based on photos shown at the trial that Caylee was both able to open the sliding door to get outside, and that she was able to climb the pool ladder independently, which is why Cindy was so upset upon finding the pool ladder down.
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129. Knuckles the Echidna #26
The First Date (Part One of Three): She Loves You… (And You Know That Can't Be Bad!)
Writer: Ken Penders
Pencils: Chris Allan
Colors: Frank Gagliardo
So this arc is kind of… eh, awkward and dull. There's really no action, and it's all centered around love and dating and whatnot like we're suddenly watching a bad will-they-won't-they sitcom. Everything is extremely heteronormative - like look, I get this is the 90s, but everything is about "boys and girls" and just ends up sounding really juvenile as a result - and everyone is really out of character, too. I mean, do Knuckles or Julie-Su seem like the types to wander around all lovesick like shallow high schoolers? Not to mention the Chaotix, especially Vector, are… well… ugh, let's just jump into this and get it over with.
The Chaotix are hanging around in their usual burger joint, when Espio mentions that recently he's heard some surprising news about Prince Charmy - namely, that he's gotten engaged!
Now, you remember how a while back when the Chaotix were first introduced I had to clarify that unlike in the games, where he's six years old, in the comics he's sixteen? This is one of those moments that completely threw me when I first read the comics, because I had been operating under the assumption all this time that he was six. Now, obviously sixteen is still pretty damn young to be getting engaged, but I was sitting here with my eyebrows furrowed wondering why Charmy's friends didn't seem more concerned that this six year old child suddenly had a fiancée. I thought that his parents had arranged his marriage to Saffron (for whatever reason her name is misspelled in this issue, with only one F) and that by going back to his role as a prince he'd basically doomed himself to having his love life strictly controlled. But no, I guess somehow in the short time since he left the group and went back home, he got into a serious enough relationship with Saffron that he proposed (or hell, maybe she proposed, who knows). It's possible there was still pressure from his parents considering his heritage, but for now we can only assume that it was a totally voluntary action on his part to get engaged to Saffron, which is just… really, really weird.
Now Vector is very displeased to hear this. Vector is, in fact, something of a gigantic sexist douchebag in this issue, talking big about how no woman could handle him, prompting Espio and Mighty to joke that Julie-Su is more than his match if they were to go head to head in a fight. We then cut to Julie-Su angrily and viciously firing her blaster while shouting about Knuckles "running out on her."
Geez, man. You think her insurance covers blaster burn marks on the walls? She's mostly angry because she wants to talk to Knuckles one on one, but he's not there with her right now. He's with his father, in some kind of apartment-like space within Haven (it's not really clear, but I'm assuming Haven given we're talking about Locke here) as his father makes him breakfast. Out of nowhere, Knuckles asks his father about "why boys and girls get together," prompting Locke to immediately spit out his coffee. Knuckles, unfazed by the sudden brown-colored backwash all over the table, starts going on about how whenever he's around Julie-Su, he feels "weird."
This is maybe my least favorite part of Kenders' worldbuilding in the comic. Apparently, the Soultouch is an instant romantic attraction between two members of the opposite sex amongst echidnas, essentially love at first sight. It's not outright stated, but in case you haven't guessed, this is why Julie-Su so abruptly left the Dark Legion when she first spotted Knuckles many issues ago, feeling like she "had to find him" but didn't know why. Knuckles asks that if the Soultouch is accurate, why Locke and Lara-Le ended up splitting up, to which Locke shrugs and says that he doesn't know, but even the best of relationships require a lot of work, which is maybe the most accurate thing written in this entire arc. Knuckles then utterly hilariously, and completely accidentally, makes his case for homosexuality by saying he thinks things would be easier if guys stuck with guys and girls stuck with girls, noting that he gets along way easier with his male friends and "doesn’t even think about other girls." Kenders clearly wasn't meaning to characterize Knuckles as a closeted gay, but that's how it comes across and it's amazing. Let Knuckles be gay if he wants, man!
Meanwhile, out on the street, Espio and Mighty start challenging Vector's flippant attitude toward women, taunting him that he probably doesn't even have the backbone to ask a girl out on a date right now. Vector, his fragile masculinity sufficiently rattled, stomps away and begins casing out the women in the area in perhaps the most uncomfortably out of character series of panels I've ever seen.
*sigh* Kenders… why in the unholy hell… did you think this was okay? Remember the sweet but clueless Vector in Sonic X who did his utmost to help Vanilla out and give her nice things because he had a crush on her, not caring about how "hot" she was or that she was a single mother with a little kid? Yeah, this isn't him. Ugh.
Julie-Su, meanwhile, has had enough of moping around in her apartment and takes a walk outside, trying to think of ways she can improve herself and become more confident. She happens to pass by a clothing boutique and glance inside, and as she muses to herself that perhaps she needs to stop being so serious all the time and learn to have a little fun - probably a good idea, considering she was part of a technological military group for so long - a passing echidna suggests to her that she go inside and try out the hat she was absentmindedly staring at. She's startled, but allows herself to be led inside by the echidna and an attendant of the store.
I very much disagree that it's "so her" - I feel like Sarah-Connor-style badass tank tops and combat boots are more her aesthetic - but regardless, the echidna encourages her and then invites her out for lunch. Fun to contrast his polite and complimentary approach towards Vector's more misogynistic one, huh? Back in Haven, while Locke is out of the room, Knuckles' musings are interrupted by Archimedes poofing in and immediately noticing his lovesick state. Upon hearing that Locke was rather awkward in trying to explain the source of his feelings, Archimedes offers his own advice for Knuckles' problem which basically boils down to "you'll never know if you don't take the plunge." Knuckles, encouraged, stands up and has Archimedes poof them away, and a second later Locke walks back in, surprised to see the room empty. Back in the streets, Vector is still trying to "score" to prove himself to Espio and Mighty…
That is the most uncomfortably-drawn swan I've ever seen. Like… why in the world does she have boobs? She's a bird! Birds don't need boobs! Argh! Archimedes poofs Knuckles straight into a restaurant, apparently having homed directly in on Julie-Su, because there she is, out to lunch with Raynor the echidna who asked her out, and to Knuckles' shock, she's holding his hand… better make a move fast, man, cause this polite dude is gonna win her over first!
Friend in Need
Writer: Ken Penders
Pencils: Manny Galan
Colors: Barry Grossman
So I think this is actually the first KtE arc that has a secondary story at the end of each issue - previously, they've all had one story taking up the full span of the pages. This story follows Mighty, in which he is approached by Nicolette the Weasel, who prefers to go by Nic due to her full name "not sounding tough enough for a bounty hunter," and who is Nack's previously-unmentioned sister (and looks exactly like him but with eyelashes and a crop top, because girl). She gives Mighty a red collar, which in shock he realizes used to belong to Ray the Flying Squirrel, whom he used to know. He agrees to come with Nic on her latest treasure hunting venture, providing the brawn she needs in exchange for his chance to look for what happened to Ray. While they're flying to their destination, Mighty becomes lost in memories of how he met Ray, leading to one of the most jarring character revelations next to "Charmy is a prince" - all we've ever known about Mighty up till now is that he has super strength and likes hanging around on the Floating Island, but apparently, six or seven years ago he was captured by Robotnik's forces and taken to a goddamn slave labor camp, where he found himself on a prisoner transport cart along with Ray. Ray had a very bad stutter, most likely due to fear and trauma, but was still kind to those around him, and Mighty began to look after him even though he was shackled due to his strength. But unexpectedly, one of the other prisoners on board this cart was Sonic! Keep in mind, we're talking about a cart full of eight year old children that Robotnik was shipping off. Mighty was skeptical of Sonic's confident attitude, with Sonic claiming that he was there to break everyone out, and that Robotnik didn't suspect him since he was only a child and up until recently adults had been carrying on the fight. However, with recent losses, the Freedom Fighters formed by Sally in the Sonic Kids special started taking up arms against Robotnik as well.
Let that sink in, man. This is why the leading members of the resistance against Robotnik were children and young teens. All the adults were dead or roboticized. Anyone who could have fought was gone. These children had no one else to stand up for their freedom; circumstance forced them to step forward and take the lead instead. Remember what I was talking about a while back, about Sonic having trouble settling down after Robotnik's death and how he was so used to war as essentially a child soldier that even in peacetime he found himself unable to relax? This is the true horror of the war against Robotnik. King Acorn's abrupt disbanding of the Freedom Fighters several issues ago may have seemed dismissive and uncaring, but in the end, his point of view does make sense - he doesn't want literal children robbed of their chance to, well, be children. Just think of how many main characters, and hell, even side characters, thought for so long that they were orphans until their family members started turning up after the war. Think about how many are still orphans for all their know - where are Amadeus and Rosemary Prower? Where's Bunnie's parents? Antoine's mother? Amy's parents? That is what the war against Robotnik cost society. It's actually kind of chilling.
Anyway, Nic wakes Mighty up from his train of thought as they land at the site of the now-deserted labor camp. Mighty is a little jumpy, still reluctant to trust Nic fully, but suddenly an unexpected face makes her appearance…
Fiona? As in, the robot that Tails supposedly fell in love with right before his solo adventure? She's a real person? And Mighty somehow knows her? Oh boy, there's a lot to cover here…
#nala reads archie sonic preboot#archie sonic#archie sonic preboot#sonic the hedgehog#kte 26#writer: ken penders#pencils: chris allan#colors: frank gagliardo#pencils: manny galan#colors: barry grossman
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Fate/stay night Réalta Nua Part 1 - Fate Route (1/2)
Prologue
I’ve always wanted to read the VN so it’s time for me to actually do it! I feel like the anime left a lot of things to be desired so let’s see how it goes~ Didn’t expect Mitsuzuri and Rin to be good friends hmmm. I knew Shinji was supposedly popular but I didn’t know he was supposed to be THAT popular, guess I can further understand why he gets so insulted when Rin rejects him but yeah, still a thoroughly crappy guy. Ugh, his arrogance puts me off to no end. Wow, omg, Rin put him in his place so hard, it was hilarious. No wonder why he hates her lolll. Rin is so silly though, she knew her clock was one hour faster and yet she totally forgot loll, I wonder if she really would have been able to summon Saber instead if she did the ritual at the time when her magic was at its peak though? However, Archer is much more interesting and fun than Saber so yahh, not much of a loss there hahaha. Well, I guess since you have to summon them with something related to the Servant, she probably would have still got Archer haha. Hahahaha, I love how he said he’ll ignore her opinions and do everything his own way, so she can just hide in the basement until the Holy Grail War ends🤣🤣 Lmao when she used one of the Command Spells to force him to obey her orders from now on lolll. But I see…she failed summoning him properly so he doesn’t have his memories of who exactly he is… Lmao that he had to clean the living room because he has to listen to her orders or it’ll affect him (due to the spell). Their relationship is so cute though, he even made good tea for her! Although she’s too much of a tsundere to admit that she liked it, he could already tell, so that really adorable hahaha. I’ve alwayssss shipped Rin and Archer together since back in the day hahaha. So cuteee when she was embarrassed at him calling her Rin when she thought he’d just call her “you” or “Master” hahaha.
I love how confident and strong Rin is. She doesn’t feel the need to hide her magic circuits (since other Masters can detect it) because she wants other Masters to find her instead of her looking around for them hahaha, she’s so cool. Honestly, I’m really enjoying seeing things from Rin’s perspective rather than Shirou’s. Sakura…is talking to Gilgamesh? Honestly though, seeing Rin quite actively help and communicate with Sakura is very nice and refreshing, I always found it weird in the anime that they didn’t even seem like acquaintances imo. Also great to see more insight into Kuzuki’s personality with him cancelling and delaying midterm exams to a later date because of a misspelling in the papers loll. Rin even asks about whether she’s okay considering her home circumstances🥺 I see…I always kinda wondered why Rin never did anything to the boundary field at the school when she knew about it, but I see, she can’t destroy it thoroughly, but she was planning to hinder it by decimating some symbols, until Lancer appeared anyway. A lot of things are much clearer in the VN since it explains things and gives you time to digest it, but there really was much relief that Shirou happened to pass by and stopped Lancer from using his Noble Phantasm and kill them. Although, it doesn’t show that this person is actually Shirou, but you do see that Rin obviously really cares about this person, because she used the pendant (given to her by her father’s will, it was supposed to be a last resort for the war) containing an abundant amount of magical power to save his life. Initially, she was about to just accept his death as something “unlucky” since it’s just the normal process of killing all witnesses and it was unfortunate that she was careless this time (since she always made sure to have no witnesses so she wouldn’t have to kill anyone), but when she saw his face, she couldn’t help but use everything she could to save him. Interesting to see that she forgot about the pendant and left it with him, not that it’s very useful anymore since it doesn’t have much magic in it. Also interesting to know that since she lacked the skills to revive him from near death, the magic power from the pendant helped her in that regard, so I guess that means if you lack skills, you can make up for it with magic power?
Hmm I see, so the reason they always say that Saber is the strongest is because in all the previous wars, Saber has made it to final fight. I’ve always wondered why they always put such high acclaim on Saber when even though she is strong, I wouldn’t call her the “strongest”. Nice to also have it clear that most magic doesn’t work on Saber, Lancer and Archer because they were fighters who fought through the age of myths where magic was used widely, and that’s also why these classes are usually the best. I guess that’s why they’re always focused on Saber compared to the other Servants. Lmaoo, for someone who has no goal in this war besides winning, Rin is really confident and cool to be able to sway Archer in believing in her without even trying haha. Took me a while to figure it out, but I guess the pendant that Archer returned to Rin is actually his own? Does that mean he already knew who he was then and was just hiding it from her? I feel so sorry for Rin though! Imagine if she really got killed by Saber because she went back to save Shirou from Lancer and ended up letting her guard down against the sudden appearance of Saber! I didn’t even realise this part was a prologue, and it even ends on the cliffhanger of Saber intending to kill Rin! Well, anyway since I’ve forgotten a lot of things, it’s great to see things again whilst having some knowledge of other stuff that makes me realise what I missed when I first watched the anime haha. Guess we’re back to Shirou’s perspective then!
Fate route (Day 1-9)
It’s so cute to see Sakura wake Shirou up in the morning! So crazy that she got there at 6am though omg, how early does she wake up to prepare breakfast for everyone?! At least Shirou usually tries to wake up early to help out, but wow, club activities start at 7am like dayum. Nice to see that Shirou actually notices Sakura as a girl and feels a bit awkward sometimes because he’s aware of how pretty she is and everything, she is a very good girl after all~ It’s so cute how Shirou admits to being one of Rin’s admirers since she’s so perfect, beautiful and well mannered! Ugh Shinji is SO ANNOYING, always being so insecure for being crappy compared to Shirou and he has to make it seem like he’s SO GREAT, ugh he grinds my gears. I don’t even know why Shirou can even consider him to be a “friend”. Lmao, Shirou is so used to Shinji being full of shit that he just calls it Shinji’s style hahahaha, I guess that’s how it is when you’ve known them for a long time. Lmaoooo at Fuji-nee roaring like a tiger hahahaha. I find it so funny how her whole class calls her by the nickname she hates - Tiger, it’s the only way to bring her back alive when she faints from falling down lmaooo. As usual, Illya is creepy saying that if he doesn’t summon it soon, he’s going to die, and it was at night when no one was around on the road!
I’m glad that there’s more explanations about magic circuits since I’ve been rather confused by them. So basically, the amount of magic circuits in a person is determined at birth, and usually it’s not very much. This is where inheriting magic circuits from generation to generation comes in, and that’s why people like Rin are so powerful in magic I guess, because she’s a descendant of a prominent family of magi. However, these magic circuits can only be inherited through blood relations and that’s why Kiritsugu couldn’t pass his to Shirou, although I’m not sure if he would have even if he could tbh. The good thing though, is that apparently every person has at least one type of magic they’re good at, and that’s why Shirou is good at understanding the structure of things. And now I’m glad to understand the difference between mana and od because mana is magical energy floating around the world, and most magi are able to draw mana and “filter” it through their magic circuits to use as a spell. Since Shirou doesn’t have many, I assume he uses od which is the magic within oneself most of the time and I guess that’s why when he gets Saber, it’s hard for him to give enough magical energy to her since it’s difficult for him to draw any mana with his limited magic circuits? Especially since even when he’s doing his training and fixing stuff, he has to utilise an artificial magic circuit and that’s already dangerous enough to his body if he lacks the concentration… I see, as he said, he is not a magus, he is only a magic user who can create magical energy within his body and channel it into objects hmmm, I like that it’s much clearer in the VN what exactly he can do. Strengthening objects is a cool ability though since it reinforces the object’s abilities by putting magical energy into it~ It’s kinda crazy how the Magic Association only cares about concealing magic from the public and not about whether people are using magic properly, it’s like as long as it doesn’t affect them doing their stuff, they don’t care. I guess it’s because they’re probably doing suspicious magic research themselves imo.
Not sure I like the translation of “seigi no mikata” being superhero, since technically you could be a superhero but not really an ally/protector of justice. Although, I do enjoy more info about Shirou’s motivations here. I guess the fact that Shirou tries to be one is mainly because he wants to become someone like Kiritsugu (since he saved him), so really now that I think about it, Shirou isn’t exactly what you would call a “nice person”, like he’s still nice in various areas etc, but a lot of the reason why he doesn’t mind helping people is because he thinks that as long as he keeps helping people who need him and he has the ability to help them, he will one day become the protector of justice he wants to be. On the other hand, I never realised/remembered that Shinji and Shirou actually had a fight where Shirou beat him up when he asked Shinji about Sakura’s bruises and Shinji had the audacity to say he hits her because he feels like it. What a douchebag. I do feel bad for Shirou that because of that, now Shinji thinks of him more as an enemy now and apparently hurts Sakura more, I feel so sorry for Sakura… It always felt like (in the anime) Shirou left the archery club because of Shinji but it seems like, it was a part of the reason, but not really, since Shirou does want to focus on working for living expenses and because he got a scar from work on his right shoulder and I guess it’s not very proper to have something like that when doing archery since people can see it when they shoot. Or maybe these are all just excuses haha, since Shirou seems to be the best “archer”. It seems that Lancer noticing Shirou’s presence was partly done deliberately so that he could distract him from killing Archer? I mean, Shirou’s sick of not being able to do anything when other people are in danger so that’s understandable..
It’s pretty cute how tsundere Rin is, she obviously wants to tell him about the Holy Grail War and everything because she doesn’t want him to die a meaningless death, but at the same time she can’t bring herself to say it like that, so she tells him she’s doing it because he stopped Saber from killing her. When really, he’s the one who owes her considering how she used that jewel that was left for her in her father’s will to save his life. I don’t know why, but in the anime, Shirou came across as annoying with how he keeps saying girls like Saber shouldn’t fight and how he’ll protect her etc, but in the VN, I think the interaction with Rin thinking it was funny that Shirou was going to protect them from perverts at night (when they went to visit Kotomine at the church) made it sound so silly and cute instead. Well, that bad end where you choose to revoke the command spells and thus your rights as a Master was pretty crappy! Illya literally “kills” Shirou and plans to torture him until he’s really dead! That’s pretty disgustingly ruthless honestly… Lmao at the existence of the Tiger Dojo though! It’s a place where they tell you how you went wrong with your choices to get this bad end and tells you the mindset you should have to get back on track to the proper ending lol. Kinda weird to see Illya act so cute in it when she just killed Shirou though lol. Although, I have to admit that Kirei being able to “take out” Shirou’s command spells was very interesting… Tiger Dojo 2 ending was nice in the sense that you could really see how Rin would sacrifice her life to protect Shirou even when he makes silly choices, it’s really heartwarming to see how much she cares about him tbh. And I guess also “nice” to see how much Illya loves and hates both Kiritsugu and Shirou.
One thing that’s interesting to see in the VN for this fight was Shirou’s intention to save Saber by pushing her away from Berserker’s attack, and hoping to think of his next move after that, rather than him simply shielding Saber. In the end, because he wasn’t fast enough, he ended up taking the hit for Saber, but he had no intention of actually getting hit, he thought he would be able to dodge it. Maybe it was naive of him to think that, but I do enjoy knowing more about his intentions and hopes from this move. I love how Rin teases Shirou when he gets embarrassed at shaking her hand because he realised how soft it was hahahah. Shirou is so cute hahaha! LMAO when he doesn’t count Taiga as someone he’s embarrassed to touch hands with because he considers her as someone from a different planet rather than a girl hahahaha. Ohh? I didn’t really think that how famous each Servant is in the current time actually affected how strong they are as well. I see, so they need to be known and like “worshipped” to solidify their existence and power, I guess that makes sense.
I love Shirou and Saber’s first proper conversation with each other at the dojo. It was really nice to see him have the resolve to fight now that he’s decided to keep with the war, and that he’s just like Saber when it comes to their beliefs and values of protecting the innocent. But I think the best thing about their relationship that I’ve always loved is that Shirou always treats Saber like another fellow “person” rather than a Servant. He’s polite, he’s normal with her and he acts the same as he does with others, and I think that always catches Saber off guard in a good way haha. I also love the professional relationship Archer and Rin have though! But yeah, lmao at Rin just bringing her luggage to Shirou’s place saying she’s living there from now on since they’ve decided to ally with each other. Ohh, I don’t know if I missed it (or I just forgot loll) in the anime but I never realised that Shirou wasn’t giving any magical energy to Saber at all! I thought he gave a little bit! But apparently the summoning might have gone wrong and the connection between them wasn’t connected so she can’t receive anything? No wonder why Saber always has to limit herself and her use, because she’s relying on her own medical energy to stay in this world! Actually, yeah, I think I remember it now lol, my bad! Anyway, gotta love Sakura when she was annoyed that Rin was trying to shoo her out of Shirou’s place when Sakura basically thinks of it as her territory loll. Even funnier when Shirou “forgot” about having to deal with Taiga in regards to Rin living here now lol. Not to mention Saber when she appears later! But Taiga is relatively easy to handle anyway haha. Awww I love how Taiga hates the Tiger nickname but her cup has a tiger on it lmao!
Honestly, although Shirou’s white knighting can get a bit too much, it’s situations like when he decides to introduce Saber to everyone instead of continuing to hide her that really makes me like him. Taiga is so cute though, she has such a soft spot for Shirou that she thinks Saber is taking him away from her since Saber is stronger than her and can protect him better hahaha. Taiga really loves Shirou. Hmmm I see, so the Matou don’t have magic circuits anymore and are really just a family that used to be magi, but still retain knowledge of magic etc. Shinji really just thinks of this whole thing like a game, huh? It was so cute how Rin and Saber glared at Shirou for meeting Shinji by himself haha. Although I can understand Saber’s frustration with Shirou when he always tries to prevent her from fighting etc, it was super reckless of her to go to Ryuudou Temple by herself. I always find Assassin/Sasaki Kojirou to be super cool, because he’s really amazing at having the capability to fend off against Saber with his skill and technique as a samurai. Oh, and seriously, Saber and Shirou should really be thankful to Rin, if it wasn’t for her, the two of them would just be super stubborn in their respective positions and beliefs and be unable to understand the other person. Rin is the best~ loved it when she teased Shirou after he carried Saber back home even though she already knew what happened. But yeah, seriously though, Shirou can get pretty frustrating about how he keeps treating Saber like a girl so she shouldn’t fight etc, like dude, be realistic please, she’s gonna have to fight eventually whether you like it or not, the war isn’t so easy that you can keep her safe.
I guess I’ll always love how proper Shirou is, stuff like properly greeting Saber in the morning even when he’s in a rush and apologising to Rin for forcing her to kick out Sakura when he should have done it for her safety a long time ago is just very nice to see. Sure, Shirou is wishy washy and can be very indecisive and not even know what he himself wants, but he’s such a good guy, it’s hard to really get too annoyed with him. Not sure how I feel about Shirou saying that Ayako getting attacked by a mugger and needing to run away might have been good in a sense to teach her some femininity, like I know he means it in a “good way” but seriously, that’s not important considering what happened! Shirou and Illya eating dorayaki together is such a nice image, especially since Illya never got the chance to experience simple stuff like that stuck in a castle. Lmaoo at Shirou accidentally seeing Saber changing to get into the shower and she’s so whatever about it lol. I always found Archer’s talk with Shirou about it being impossible to save all people much more realistic against Shirou’s ideals, but I think hearing it again when you know who Archer actually is makes it even more saddening and “real” because you know how much Archer personally experienced by believing in and trying to achieve this “ideal”.
Although skipping school is bad, I do enjoy the spars Saber and Shirou have in order to give him battle experience on making the best decision at critical moments. I think it’s the most realistic approach on what they can do to train him against Servants since he obviously doesn’t have the power to really win against them. LOLL at Illya casually saying Sella told her that it wouldn’t be fun to play with Shirou because Illya needs to kill him soon anyway. Like, yep, okay, see ya Illya lol. But I guess it’s kinda cute that even though Sella told her that, Illya herself still decided to wait at the park and see if he would come since she thinks it’s fun being with him, and I guess he feels the same since he bothered to pass by the park. But yeah, it’s pretty saddening how Illya was raised all this time knowing nothing about her parents’ love for her and having to live in the environment where her grandfather raised her as a Master to listen to him and kill anyone in their way to winning the war. Saber getting attached to the baby lion plush she got from Taiga is really cute, I guess since it reminds her of something familiar in her life (when she raised a lion cub for a month), she can’t help but feel soft towards it. On the other hand, lmaoo at Rin punching Shinji and not even caring hahaaha, I can understand why she would, but dang is she ruthless and just making things worse for Shirou by telling him that she’s living with Shirou etc loll. I’m still happy that she punched him though, he totally deserves it. I love how Shirou just listens to Rin and swallows the jewel without even questioning what it is. But it’s nice that it’ll help him keep his Magic Circuit on all the time so he can accustom himself to using magic without having to go through the whole process of risking his life to turn the circuit “on”, definitely more efficient if he can master this! It’s definitely contradictory but amusing how in the end, the best teacher for Shirou probably is Archer lol, since he understands his problems best compared to Rin who is too capable and so doesn’t really understand the problems of an ordinary person learning magic lol.
I’m not surprised Shirou met up with Shinji at school and ended up getting caught in his activation of the boundary field, but dang did I like how decisive Shirou was the whole time during battle. He understood he couldn’t fend off against Rider, and he wasn’t shocked too much by the kick from Rider and was able to use a command spell to get Saber to help him. I also liked how he really was ready to kill Shinji if he really had to in order to stop the boundary field (that could have melted all the people in it). Shinji is such a shit though, I was so mad when I heard him talk about kicking Taiga when she told him to call the ambulance when he activated the boundary field. So glad Shirou thrashed him even if he got away in the end. Btw I love the Tiger Dojo segments, they’re hilarious hahaha. Although it was reckless of Shirou to go by himself, it’s good that the experience ended up making him realise he needs to fight alongside Saber and not prevent her from fighting. I thought it was really cute how Saber and Shirou finally came to a better compromise and shook hands, but then Rin appeared and they got all embarrassed haha. But the cutest thing was when Saber was so concerned about wanting the same casual clothes (since they were destroyed) and asked Rin for another set just because Shirou said it looked good on her before.
Overall, most of the stuff for now is pretty similar to the anime so it’s more of a refresh for me with added details. As usual, Rin is really the highlight for me though haha.
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I said I’d post these rambling text posts I’d left in my drafts, and so here you go. I’ve resisted the urge to reread it, so here’s hoping I don’t regret this! LOL ....
Wow, it’s amazing the emotional impact of finding a notebook from when you were 12!
I’d actually forgotten I had a “security notebook” (one I carried to make school endurable) that early, but it geez it brought back memories.
That isn’t always good.
Now, it’s not full of deep thoughts. It’s also not a “Dear diary” sort of confessional. It’s all random.
Doodles. Tree filled landscapes, the TARDIS, a creepy clown, space ships....and lots and LOTS of Pac Man! LOL
Notes exchanged with friends. I was apparently appalled that my teacher told the class ghosts were real.
A list of ALL the comic books I owned at the time, still years before filling that Uncanny X-Men gap of #62 I’d fix when I was 14 and went into my first comic shop.
Several pages of a story was calling Gama II that I have no memory of at all. I wonder where I was heading with the discovery of a space ship captain (female, of course) in suspended animation. I probably didn’t know myself yet.
The back cover is filled with a “where I am” that starts with the Milky Way Galaxy (or “galaxiy” as I spelled it), getting closer and closer in finer detail until it ends with me sitting on my bed.
Let me point out my spelling was horrendous! As someone that read non-stop, you’d think spelling would rub off, but nope. So source is “sorse”, neighboring is “naboring”, captain in “captin”, hidden is “headen”, weird is “weard”...actually I misspelled more words than I got right! You can totally see why my 6th grade teacher openly laughed in class about her best student being the worst speller she had ever seen. But let me also say, I NEVER actively worked on improving my spelling, yet when I graduated I was valedictorian. Of course, if it weren’t for modern spell check I STILL couldn’t spell “valedictorian”! LOL
Just remember, so called “smart” people can be ridiculously bad at some things!
But what really knocked me for a loop were seeing notes from and referencing a certain boy. We had become friends, which in retrospect seems rather odd. We only seemed to have fondness for writing messages in code and for those early video games in common. It seemed like a lot at the time. I do wonder if writing notes to each other that no one else could read didn’t create a false sense of closeness to me. That was my undoing.
Well, maybe my undoing was actually trusting my two best friends.
If I had little in common with the boy, I had far, far less with the girls. They weren’t very bright and I can’t honestly think of a single thing we shared an interest in. Still, I almost never had a friend that liked or thought the same as me. Surprisingly, that isn’t a deal breaker with friendship. Friendship is more about the good will involved, the willingness to care, and I had long before learned to take it where ever I could find it. The trouble was, I still hadn’t yet learned that even real friends can’t be trusted.
See, I had the girls over two my house, which I rarely did. We went for a walk on the railroad track, which was pretty much where we could go since they weren’t woodsy types. And like is common with many girls, the subject turned to boys.
They were all swoony over this boy or that boy, and me being me I was a bit quieter. I was shy about sharing something so private, and to be honest, most of the boys at our tiny school were unappealing. Not that they were all horrible, even many that would be classified as “rednecks”, had nice sides. The boys in my grade often had a sweet side. Now the girls, they were brutal with fights (which was the talk of the teachers after the blood splattered wall from the “earring incident”). The boys were nice, friendly....but generally not talking to me more than very casually. And for me, attraction to a body comes after attraction to a mind. I need to be talking to the guy, sharing interests, laughing at jokes together, connecting....
You see where I’m going with this. I had a big crush on the boy.
TBH, I blame my parents! They had met in high school and become friends before they fell in love. I thought that’s how it works: you can be friends without falling in love, but you can’t fall in love without being friends first. Considering it worked so well for me parents (they were happily married, inseparable even, for over 50years when Pop died) they set a HORRIBLE example for me.
Anyway, the girls coaxed me into saying what boy I secretly liked. They had told me their crushes, and they were my best friends. I could certainly tell them.
Oops!
Come Monday morning it was known. I dunno whether one or both told. I dunno who they told. I dunno why they told. I just know they told. I expect it just slipped out and wasn’t done maliciously. They probably would have been oblivious to the consequences.
The boy knew. He knew, but didn’t mention it to me. He didn’t mention anything to me. He never spoke to me again. Actually, I’m not sure he EVER said anything to me again, and considering it was a small K-12 school where we graduated together that was kinda tricky.
See, the boy was teased because “Stephanie likes you!” It became the big insult at boys at school. “Stephanie likes you!” How shameful! How humiliating! to have weird, fat, ugly, not girly enough Stephanie likes you! It was social death. There had been another girl they used as the big insult, but she’d been in high school and might have even already graduated. I never even knew what that mythic girl looked like, only that in elementary school boys used her as an insult. Now I had taken her place.
And so it began, the horrible romantic process of my life. Guys likes me...as friends. Try as I might to resist it, sometimes I’d fall for those guy friends anyway. But I knew full well what would happen if anyone, anyone at all, discovered how I felt. That would be it. If the guy found out there would be a 99% chance he’d be disgusted. That 1% chance wasn’t worth risking a valued friendship. I trained myself to deny, even to myself, my own feelings.
Looking at that notebook, seeing the boy’s handwriting, his name... This was the moment. The moment I realized I was inherently unlovable. Romantically speaking anyway. Other forms of love were always possible, but my god no one would ever find me attractive.
Flipping through the notebook felt like a gut punch. Decades have passed, I’m technically middle aged, and I’m STILL just that 12 year old girl.
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Winter Weebwatch #1
So, because it is Good when I get to have opinions about things, I figured I’d try out doing a bunch of mini-reviews for the current season of anime, doing a new batch of reviews with each episode and seeing how they evolve and change over time, whether some do better, or some fall behind, or if I end up dropping any of them (and by any of them, I mean Plunderer).
The winter anime season is kind of a dead zone: Since it starts in January when everybody’s starting to get busy again and Christmas has screwed over their sense of work-life balance, it’s the season with the lowest amount of viewers, and so it’s the season where the shows tend to be noticeably low effort and low budget. It’s telling that, despite having huge franchises with a lot of brand recognition, Sunrise and A-1 Pictures put Gundam Build Divers Re:Rise and Sword Art Online on hiatus for the entirety of the winter season, choosing to take the hit that comes from a three month hiatus instead of wasting twelve or thirteen episodes on the Death Season, The Season Where Shows Go To Die.
So by and large, what we’re reviewing here are either the shows distribution companies didn’t care about, or the shows distribution companies did care about but couldn’t get a channel to pick up in any other season. We’re also not reviewing all of them, because there’s like ninety and my store of time and opinions is finite, so we’re reviewing seven.
While the intention is to follow these seven shows through to the end, what will probably happen is I might drop a couple that aren’t keeping my interest, and pick up a couple that catch my eye. If I pick up new ones, then whatever I pick up will get some kind of bumper review covering several episodes.
Also, I really dragged my heels getting this done, so most of these shows have already aired their second episodes. I’ll be trying to put out the second episode reviews a lot quicker, so that I can be relatively current by the time the third episodes roll around.
Anyway! Week 1, first episodes.
Infinite Dendrogram.
★★★☆☆
Infinite Dendrogram has a terrible and ridiculous premise that crumbles into dust if you examine it for more than 0.2 seconds, and I kind of don’t mind that at all.
The show follows Ray Starling, a player in the titular Virtual Reality MMO, which promises infinite possibilities owing to its two unique selling points: The first, that all the NPCs are fully-fledged AIs, meaning the world ‘exists’ distinct from its players or any manned oversight, with quests emerging naturally from the NPCs’ wants and needs, and with NPCs able to permanently die; and the second, that each player character has an Embryo, a superpower generated using their personality as a model, with infinite possibilities.
This is an inconceivably dumb premise. Leaving aside the obvious game balance issues with the Embryos, it’s clarified early on that this AI technology is unique to the game, which means that some game company discovered the technology to create fully conscious, sapient life, and decided to use that technology to create a video game (and in doing so, directly led to the deaths of thousands of those sapient lives).
But I … kinda don’t care? Infinite Dendrogram’s episode was fun, lively, not terribly original but consistently engaging, and managed to introduce five characters who I actually kind of like while telling a self-contained episodic story with good stakes and nice pacing. It feels like Sword Art Online if Sword Art Online was written by a competent writer and also not just a delivery system for creepy, irritating fanservice, and that’s pretty nice.
Also, bonus points for actually making the in-universe game look fun? We’ll call that one another advantage it has over SAO.
ID: Invaded.
★★★★☆
ID: Invaded has indisputably the strongest first episode of this season of anime (really first two, as it aired both episodes one and two back to back), by a gigantic margin. A video called ‘Defending ID: Invaded’ floated by my youtube dash a few days back, so clearly some people don’t agree with me on that, but that’s fine. It’s okay for them to be wrong.
When ID: Invaded picks up, a young man awakens in an empty white void full of floating chunks of a city, with his own body in pieces and no memories. Pulling himself back together, he realises, upon seeing a dead body of a young woman, that his name is Sakaido, and he’s a detective here to solve the woman’s murder.
Sakaido, it quickly turns out, is exploring a cognitive world formed out of a telepathic link with the killer, with a team of investigators in the real world watching through his eyes and picking out evidence to find the murderer with. When the murderer, a serial killer called the Perforator, kidnaps a member of the investigation team, the race is on to find him before he can kill again.
So, ID: Invaded has kind of mastered the art of dripfeeding information in a way that gets a viewer hooked very quickly while steadily delivering a series of twists and turns, and recontextualising the story and the mystery (which, it rapidly emerges, is not the mystery of the Perforator, but rather the mystery of Sakaido himself). It’s gripping and inventive, with a strong if slightly convoluted premise and a lot of interesting material to set up going forward in the series.
In a nice touch, director Ei Aoki turns the mental worlds Sakaido visits (two in the first two episodes) into homages to other surrealist anime directors, mimicking both their compositions and their cinematography. The world of the Perforator draws marked influence from the works of Mamoru Hosoda, an apprentice of Hayao Miyazaki and one of the original creators of Digimon Adventure; while the second world visited pays homage to the works of Akiyuki Shinbo, best known for the unsettling surrealist landscapes and equally unsettling cinematography of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Fate/Extra Last Encore.
Pet.
★☆☆☆☆
Pet looks like a cheap OVA from 2004. Let’s just get that out of the way, it looks bad, but in a really inoffensive way where it just kind of looks cheap and outdated.
It’s … fine. It’s okay. If you’ve ever had a Burger King bacon and cheese burger, you basically know what Pet is like. If you haven’t ever had a Burger King bacon and cheese burger, go and have a Burger King bacon and cheese burger, and then you’ll know what Pet is like.
The first episode doesn’t really give away anything about the premise of the series, save that it involves psychic criminals, but it tells a decent self-contained little story about a guy who learns something he shouldn’t and is then psychic-ly tormented before his memory is eventually wiped.
There’s also just not a lot to say about Pet, though. It fulfills its function as a work of storytelling, and it doesn’t really ever do much more than that, at least in its first episode. It finds its comfortable niche in just being very average and unremarkable, and sticks there, being average and unremarkable.
Of all the first episodes I’m reviewing, Pet seems the most passionless. It’s such a middle of the road piece of art that I struggle to imagine why it was even made. It doesn’t seem like it’s trying to sell merchandise, it doesn’t seem like a passion project, it doesn’t really seem like much of anything. It feels like someone asked a creative writing class to write a short story about psychic criminals, and then one of those stories was turned into an anime episode.
Plunderer.
☆☆☆☆☆
Plunderer offers a moderately interesting premise that literally nobody watching the first episode will even remember because oh good god, from the second scene onwards the entire episode is just non-stop sexual harassment and assault, first from the protagonist to the deuteragonist and then from the antagonist to the deuteragonist, and I hated it. I hated it so much.
In a bizarre turn, when the protagonist sexually harasses and attempts to sexually assault the deuteragonist, it’s played as wacky comedy, but when the antagonist does basically the exact same thing, it’s played with all the sense of horror that those actions warrant.
I just … don’t really get how I’m meant to ever sympathise with the protagonist after this. I don’t know how you rehabilitate a character in the audience’s minds when our very first introduction to him tells us that he’s a sex pest.
Also something something numbers something something die if your number reaches zero something something magical items who even cares what the premise is, my patience for this show ran dry thirty seconds into the second scene.
If I had a way of representing it, I would give this first episode a negative number of stars.
Sorcerous Stabber Orphen.
★★★☆☆
Let it just be noted that ‘Sorcerous Stabber Orphen’ is the most unintentionally hilarious anime title of the season, so there’s that.
A remake of a 1999 series of the same name, Sorcerous Stabber Orphen follows Orphen, a disgraced former sorcerer turned small-time crook and moneylender whose ill-advised attempt to commit marriage fraud is abruptly interrupted by the appearance of a dragon crashing through the roof of his potential bride/mark’s house. This isn’t just any dragon, however, but Orphen’s sister, Azalie, magically transformed after a spell gone wrong, leading Orphen on a quest to turn her back into a human before the sorcerers of the Tower of Fang can kill her.
Side note: While he names himself ‘Orphen’ because he is an orphan, I’m not misspelling the name, that’s how it’s spelled in-show. This is everybody’s fault except mine.
So, this first episode rather shows the age of its source material. It looks very much like a spruced up late 90s anime made with current day animation techniques, and that’s actually not a bad look for it. It’s also not really a good look -- Megalo Box this ain’t -- it’s just kind of a … look. Which is there. It exists in a state of Neutral Retro.
As first episodes go, though, this is probably one of the emptier and slower ones, somehow managing to cover less of its plot than even Plunderer (although it wins out on a massive margin the basis of that plot not being 90% sex crimes), because seemingly not only is its animation style cribbed from late 90s action anime, but so is its pacing.
What’s there, though, is pretty fun. None of it is dazzlingly original, it probably wasn’t that original even in the 90s, but we get introduced to a likeable cast of characters, we get a decent central conflict set up, and the worldbuilding is, while bare bones at present, at least interesting enough to hook a viewer who likes fantasy.
Also, it’s called ‘Sorcerous Stabber Orphen,’ so, you know. Extra star just for that, man.
In/Spectre.
★★☆☆☆
I’m not sure what In/Spectre is trying to be, and it doesn’t seem to be sure either.
The marketing set it up as an atmospheric, brooding supernatural mystery. The first third of the episode frames it as a romantic comedy with emphasis on the comedy. The second third of the episode switches back to atmospheric, brooding supernatural mystery, only for the third third of the episode to switch tracks yet again, this time to an action comedy with an emphasis on the action.
I don’t know whether I’m coming or going with this show. I get mood whiplash constantly, as it veers from genre to genre like a drunk driver on the freeway. By the time the last third of the episode hit, I felt completely unmoored not just from the plot, but from how I was even meant to interpret the characters.
It’s not bad at any of those genres, either. The romantic comedy section was actually pretty funny, the supernatural mystery section was suitably ominous, the action comedy section established stakes and followed through on them pretty well. None of it was blow-me-away-amazing, but it was all competent, it’s just that there’s no coherent sense of tone to any of it.
Darwin’s Game.
★☆☆☆☆
Full disclosure, I completely forgot I was watching Darwin’s Game. I finished these reviews, thought ‘haha, well done, I’ve reviewed all six shows I wanted to review’ and didn’t remember that there was a seventh on my list until I saw its name come up on a streaming website.
That’s a large part of why I’m scoring it so low. It’s better than In/Spectre, Pet, or Plunderer, it’s probably at least as good as Sorcerous Stabber Orphen, but at least those shows actually made some kind of impression on me. Darwin’s Game is good, but I can’t exactly justify giving two or three stars to a show that had such little impact that it vanished from my memory as soon as I stopped actively watching it with my eyes, like some kind of middling Doctor Who monster.
So, Darwin’s Game follows, um. It follows … a guy … with a name that I can’t recall … who is unwittingly dragged into a death game played in the streets of Tokyo. With each player given Sigils, seemingly magical abilities that they can use to gain advantages in the game, and with points exchangeable for vast sums of real money, the players of Darwin’s Game are set to the task of hunting down and murdering other players. Unable to back out of the game, Some Guy finds help with, er … with … a person … whose name I also don’t recall … and …
God, trying to recall the details of this show is like trying to recall what you had for dinner last week just after a severe head injury. You know, but the details just aren’t there.
I’m kind of at a loss as far as opinions go, because I don’t … know? If I think hard, I can remember the order of events that happened in the first episode, but I can’t remember what, if any, emotional response I had to them. All of my memories of this show are a blank, emotionless void, this is like asking me to review Solitaire. Like, I guess it was fine? I guess?
I can’t remember the main character’s face or voice.
Note to self, write all Darwin’s Game reviews from now on immediately after watching the episode, otherwise all recollection of it will melt like ice cream in a heat wave.
I’m still giving it one star, though, because I refuse to put it on the same level as Plunderer. For a start, the main character doesn’t belong on some kind of registry.
#infinite dendrogram#plunderer#id invaded#sorcerous stabber orphen#darwins game#anime#winter weebwatch
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I really love how modern tech ology nakes it SO EASY to go and learn how someone else views a part of the world. One example: I'm white, amd usually on the fairer side but not ghostly so unless its dead of winter and i park in a parking garage. I can usually find a pretty decent shade that works for foundation, concealer, even bronzers and blushes i don't have to worry about finding something that works. Nyma tang (forgive me if im misspelling im going off memory here) on youtube has the most BEAUTIFUL deep, deep, richly pigmented dark skin. Her videos of darkest foundstions, etc really ahow me just how limited a lot of lines are. Probably most lines really. And bronzers for dark skin? A joke. She found MAYBE 2 she might use to set her undereyes. I never would have thought about that. And i get to learn about this through someone else i can see because of modern technology.
I'm not trans at all. I can take to the internet, find support groups, blogs from people who are, youtubers who document their journey, and learn about some of the similarities, but also how individual and unique it is to each person. I never would have understood trans at all if we didnt come this far. I'm FAR from an expert, but i have a basic grasp of the idea. I know its unique to each trans person too. That no two trans journeys are the same journey.
Found vlogs from people with cystic fibrosis on a medication helping to treat the cause of their symptoms, being estatic about 73% lung function. Something i thought still had a life expectancy below 40 in almost everyone. And now there's potential for a real future, happy, relstively healthy, and who knows what all can happen wit this medication.
I look at how many viewpoints I've been able to see, how many people let the world into their lives, how much I've learned just in the past 10 years even. There eas a time i thought all trans people were either conpletely madculine or feminine and all eventually got surgery and hormones and the whole shebang. There was a time i didn't realize that some black people are just as easily sunburnt as a lot of very fair people. There was a time until extremely recently i didn't even realize how drastically lacking the makeup market is for complexion products for the truly deepest darkest shades (and honestly just anything beyond tanned white girl shades). And that's ok. That's now in the past. I've learned. I've had people kindly inform me i was wrong. Or come across posts or youtube videos that show me an entirely different view of the world. Because of modern technology, I'm able to almost immediately find some little insight into just about anything. Sure theres false information you have to sift out, but there's so much to learn, and so much rifht at our fingertips.
Modern technology is uniting us. If we let it unite, we don't let politicians push us away from each other, we can all learn SO MUCH about what it's like to live someone else's life. There's so many things you don't realize you don't know yet. And so many amazing things to learn. And so many amazing people demanding change whose voices are amplified through platforms of modern technology. And we all have a duty to try our best to understand the people around us. I don't need to know how to do box braids for someone, but it's nice to have a basic understanding that my suoer fine, straight hair has vastly different needs than someone with super coily kinky curls. That its entirely different hair types and needs entirely different treatment. I dont have to personally buy the darkest shade of foundation or bronzer, but to know how much of a problem it really is, and to be able to speak out with the ones who cant find thenself represented is great.
Don't automatically jump down someone's throat for being misinformed. If they're not say a nazi or clearly intentionally being derogatory, ask if they know it's offensive, or politely explain why it's actually wrong. I've learned far more from "well my experience has been..." and "no, that actually happens to me to" and "this phrase/word actually comes from this origin and is really not ok to use for that reason" than i ever have from someone yelking "you're just worshiping cops" or "you have no idea you're racist becsuse you didnt side with this person when limited evidence was made public" or "i cant believe you think that you're awful". If they seem like they genuinely just dont know or dont realize, try compassion first. If they're clearly coming from a place of hatred, I'm not gonna stop you from face kicking a nazi. But try to approach people with the mindset of "they haven't tbiught about this, or they just have never been informed". The instructional, factual, kind and compassionate approach to correcting false beliefs is what's worked for me. I'm far from perfect. There's still plenty i don't know. There's still plenty I'll never experience myself firsthand, and just have to take the words of someome who's been through it. But I'm willing to learn when I'm wrong. I'm willing to listen to someone who's experienced it. In willing to be informed, and help take a stand with those who may have meen marginalized in some way. Just approach it with kindness if I'm wrong. I'm never trying to hurt someone or any group (except say nazis, flat out intentional racism, KKK, the obvious these people deserve whats coming to 'em). I always try to come from a place of compassion. And i dont always succeed. I mess up. When i do, please don't beat me down. Talk to me. Explain what I'm not seeing, what i hadn't thought about. Tell me why. tell me your experience. Help me understand.
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So four of us were at MegaCon last weekend and we had a chance to talk KC’s ear off. We also had a chance to listen to her a bit. I, of course, took notes. Here’s what I got. Please feel free to ask questions about anything I have. I will flesh out what I can!
Panel notes:
None of her characters are based on real people that she knows. Too much bad shit happens to them.
An element of her work that she’s proud of: she uses her history degree with her writing.
Favorite mythologies to write are about gods (didn’t mention one particular cultural pantheon).
Lots of cross over with various mythologies throughout the world. Makes sense since people travel and talk. Many of the giddy traits cross over, some of the gods are identical across cultures too.
Mythology has everything that Urban Fantasy has in it, romance, heroes, monsters, etc. Really UF is a retelling of the old stories in a modern way.
We even have similar stories across stories, just like they did.
God in a jar mythology is a common theme (Artemis is in a jar right now dajuan note).
World building: Write what you need for first book, world building wise, never enough pages for world building per book. Don't do all at once. Too much, leave some for future books. Your editor will always tell you to cut it down anyway.
You need to know the world and back story even if audience doesn't yet.
Audience will know if you contradict something and they will tell you.
But don’t box yourself in, don’t let others write your rules, break them if you need to.
Writing is a you learn as you go craft. When you read your old stuff, think to yourself "look how far I’ve come!" rather than cringe at it. You aren't perfect.
Enjoy what you are now and learn from it and grow from it.
Work on the story, that’s what people care about more than the grammar and perfect characters, those are important but secondary to the story itself.
She knows the major beats of story now, but not all the details yet.
Mystery authors are her favorites (Agatha Christie was mentioned several times).
Liked mischievous gods, assholes, they more fun. If they are good, watch out! (Daj note, I got big HINT vibes here! Artemis isn't as altruistic as she seems maybe?? Personally, I've been wondering about her for a while. There is definitely more going on with her.)
Stay in genre but make it new, fresh spin: take new things, Pythia, new abilities. Hard to make vampire different, same with witch. Pick new creature to explore. Go back to original myths
Bonicon: ox type thing, napalm from butt (need to look up name, I am 100% sure I either misheard or misspelled it).
Must do some digging to find new stuff.
Add some realism, how do the characters get money? Stuff like that (ie early Cassie and Billy cheating casinos)
Mystery, how keep threat level up? Kill someone else!
World expansion: story or character come first? It depends
All characters must have an arc. Even supporting characters, must change or not believable.
Five characters in a scene, all should have a distinct voice. A friend should be able to tell which character said a line a dialogue
Character best friend? Rosier, she would hang out with him (we cheered, loudly).
Personal discussion:
Mircea always a rogue. No one should be surprised by his shit in RtS. It was telegraphed all the way back in TtD.
Cassie is an extrovert who had to learn to be introvert by upbringing. She is learning to let people in now.
Cassie has a woman’s strength, is girly and ok with it. Meant to be a character many women could relate to.
Dory by herself would be boring(?) Dorina is what makes her unique or interesting. She would be more cookie cutter character without Dorina.
KC doesn’t want to write cookie cutter characters or stories.
There are so many characters out there for all types of men (strong, weak, nerdy, whatever) but not all types of women. Cassie is an “everywoman" character that every woman could see an aspect of themselves in. Because think about it, if shit were to hit the fan what would you do? Go out guns blazing or hide behind the sofa? Probably hide behind the sofa.
There was a lot of Tolkien talk about the three whole female characters in those books. I’m a little foggy here because Tolkien is not my thing, (I had to ask who everyone was to be sure I understood, yes I was a little embarrassed). One character was the prize for the king, one was a warrior woman or essentially a “man with boobs," and one was actually a woman with her own agency. There have to be more roles for women in fantasy than this. We deserve better. There is nothing wrong with the warrior woman, but that’s not all woman and many can't see themselves like that. (Daj note I can't see myself in the warrior women and I'm stronger than the average woman. Strength, power is not my strength. I’m excited to see a wider variety of role models for young women.)
There are at least 3 more books after BtT.
Big stuff is coming! No, we didn’t ask what!
KC does not write romances! This has been said before but needs to be reiterated. She writes about people and people have romance, sex, friends, enemies, etc so of course there would be elements of that in the books. Otherwise the characters would not be believable. She does write damn good stories and characters though. All of her characters have arcs, they change because real people change. The bigger the character the bigger the arc. Smaller or side characters have arcs too, though, they just have smaller ones.
There are some obvious hints in books as to what is coming that we are all missing. (No, we didn’t ask what they were. We did our best not to blatantly ask for spoilers. There were things that we would say that she'd just smile at, but I'm not saying what. I'm doing *my* damnedest not to spoil people as well.)
People will sometimes pick up the smallest of hints she thinks they will miss though.
Yes, Mircea has a foot fetish. Why not? It's mild as fetishes go really. (We had a good giggle about that.) Again, it's a thing that makes him real.
Rian chose Casanova for a reason and it's a BIG reason. If you catch my drift ;) (More giggles and an embarrassing amount of discussion was spent here.)
Rosier speech "fake it, everyone else is too" has gotten her through a lot (daj note, me too. It’s my favorite speech in the series, I give and get it often.)
Again, any errors are mine. I do not speak for Karen Chance so do not hold her to anything that I have written here. Most of this is cobbled together from notes and exhausted, overexcited memory. She is free to correct me on any errors that I have made, and I sincerely apologize for making them and potentially speaking out of turn. She was an absolute blast to chat with and I am honored to have been given the opportunity to spend a few hours with her this weekend. I will forever claim that she is one of the kindest authors and people that I have met. I know a lot of wicked cool people, so I don't give that praise lightly.
Let me know if you have any questions. I’ll will try to answer what I can. If my roomies have anything to add, please feel free! @emberfaye @pritkinspalemoons @annalane
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Health Post (not content)
Hey all! Here’s a general update on my health.
CW I will be discussing health issues, possible malpractice, drug addiction, blood mention, pregnancy, and derealization.
Let’s start with the more “concerning” of the two. Certain symptoms are reminiscent of Cholestasis in my liver which, if severe enough, means I’ll have to deliver my child a month early. Along with that it’s caused manic itching and made me scratch until bleeding. It was rather alarming to look down and see I’d unconsciously mutilated my legs. Oops. ;;
Second point requires some backstory. About 6 years ago I was put on a “non-addictive” sleep aid as a treatment for my insomnia. The problem with this is that I’ve been taking this medicine daily for SIX YEARS, UNINTERRUPTED. There was hardly any dose changes from the medium dose I took, despite my weight fluctuating. Well, when you’re pregnant, your OB will want to reduce the amount of medication you’re on so baby isn’t also effected by it.
Despite this medicine being “non addictive”, I used to go into seizures and fainting spells when I would be abruptly taken off of it. Basically, it’s addictive and it being non addictive is only a sometimes thing depending on who it is.
The past few nights I decided to listen to the good ol doc and quit my medicine as he requested. The first day was fine, albeit, I slept restlessly and had episodes of derealization. It’s nothing too bad and the drug would be out of my system soon, yeah?
Wrong. Day two I woke up after not remembering going to sleep. My husband had just come home and greeted me cheerfully and I literally sat there. I didn’t know who he was, nor that I was married. Even more jarring, I did not know I was pregnant and looking down to see I’m VERY VISIBLY PREGNANT caused me to lock up so bad I went non-verbal. This continued for three hours. Three hours of waking up trembling, crying when he got too close, and being unable to speak. I thought towards the end that I had finally had the stroke my doctors warned might be in my future. Finally I was able to remember everything up until that point.
Now for those of you who are saying “So what? Just post the fic on time” I’d like to clarify that if I couldn’t remember my spouse and kept having lapses in memory, I certainly could not remember much about Genshin Impact (a game I recently got into.) I know a lot of you have common sense to not ask that question but just in case, I’d like to cover my bases. This isn’t targeting anyone btw I just made this comment to clarify I couldn’t remember something as important as if Zhongli was Geo or Pyro. Or that Cryo meant ice. I thought Anemo was a misspelling of anime for a minute and that was probably the funniest thing that happened.
Following up, I’ll be getting both blood work for problem A and a CT scan/MRI for problem B. Let’s hope for the best. ^^
#not content#tw memory loss#tw medication#tw blood mention#please read triggers for more#personal update#tw addiction#tw pregnancy#tw derealization
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Spiral
Fandom: Overwatch
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Lúcio Correia dos Santos
Summary:
Hana said it took twenty-one days to form a habit.
It should have been simple to do.
The universe only gave him four days before everything went wrong.
Read on AO3 here.
It was yet another of Hana’s spontaneous theories and, like most ideas she came up with unrelated to battle tactics (either in Starcraft or actual combat), it was completely awful.
“It’s really simple in theory,” she told Lúcio through a mouthful of chips and ice cream. It was a combination that he always found awful, but it made appearance any time either of them had something go down that required ‘bestie time’, as Hana put it. “You just need to stay so busy that you can’t think about him. Eventually, you’ll just forget to think about him. They say it takes twenty-one days to form a habit. Think you can do it?”
Hana didn’t know much about Akande, other than he was exactly Lúcio’s type and managed to severely bruise his fragile heart. She didn’t even know his name, because he’d never told her and she’d never asked. It was the unspoken rule when they got together that the other person didn’t pry, to just let everything flow out naturally.
This time, Hana perched on the ratty old couch she’d found in the depths of Watchpoint: Gibraltar, after having put on something awful (anime, probably) on the holoscreen at the front of the room. Lúcio sat on the floor with his back against the couch, letting Hana comb her fingers through his recently cleaned hair. After a lot of practice, he was comfortable with her helping twist his hair back into locs.
It was hard, sometimes, to reconcile this Hana with the one he went on missions with. When she was out of the MEKA, she was bright and happy and spontaneous. In it, she was cold, calculating, and brutal, everything she trained to be as essentially a child soldier.
“I’m going to bet that’s worked for exactly no one ,” he told her, eyes trained on the screen in front of him but not really watching. “How do you come up with this stuff?”
“I don’t,” she said, but then backtracked. “At least, I didn’t come up with this. It’s something 76 mentioned to me once.”
“You should leave that poor guy alone,” Lúcio mumbled, and then asked “What did he have to say? I didn’t think he really had anything or anyone outside of just being an old soldier past his time.”
“You tell me to leave him alone and still want to scoop? I don’t think that’s fair!” She tugged on a completed loc playfully.
“It’s not like you’re going to leave him alone anyway. Just spill!”
He expected Hana to spill immediately, like whenever she had a juicy piece of gossip about someone on base, but she hesitated. “I’m not really sure if it’s my story or whatever to tell, but...I found him one night when I was exploring, out near the big beacon that acts like a lighthouse over the straight. His visor was off and he was slamming back this cheap ass beer. I asked him if he wanted to have some company, to share some war stories and beer because I had some too and god knows none of us are getting therapy anytime soon and he told me, ‘That’s not why I’m out here’.
“He let me join him though, and few beers later he started talking. Said that back when he was the head of this whole shindig, he had a person that he was really close to, that he fell in love with. He never told them though and they died when that base blew up. He told me that piece of advice, though. Said that’s how he got over it. Maybe it’ll work for you.”
“Did he ever say who they were?” Lúcio asked, curious.
“Nah,” she said, flipping a finished loc over his shoulder. “But hey, his advice has to be worth something. He’s got way more age and wisdom and senior discounts than we’ll ever have. He probably knows what he’s talking about.”
He hummed softly in agreement, but couldn’t help imagining 76 up on that lighthouse tower. Hana probably didn’t realize that if he was up there mourning by himself that his tactics for forgetting hadn’t worked after all. Maybe his advice had worked once upon a time, but obviously something or someone recently dragged every bit of thought and obsession and grief back to the forefront of his mind. Lúcio didn’t plan on taking Hana’s advice, at least not originally. As was the case with everything in his life, but especially concerning Overwatch, trouble soon followed.
He told himself at first that he wanted to know more about Akande because he needed to thank him for the research and schematics left behind on the holo tablet. Not because, he scolded himself, he was still enamoured with the man despite not seeing him in over two weeks and despite the lack of any further promise. Searching for him on the web hadn’t been his immediate course of actions because it felt weird to search for someone he’d been so...personal...with in such an impersonal way. Lúcio was afraid of what he’d find, afraid that his experience that night would be far from unique, even if nothing was promised to make it that way. He soon found that with Akande, that should have been the least of his worries.
Instead, he checked the message Akande left for him on the datapad, hoping for some overt contact information he missed on his first glance through or clues in the metadata. The message itself was as unhelpful at it had been before. Checking the metadata was no better; it was as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, leaving it utterly unsalvageable and utterly useless. It was too much like recovered data from old watchpoints and Talon bases, deliberately obscured and damaged to hide the fingerprints of individuals long gone, or long damned in their pursuits.
Lúcio chose to look past the oddity. Surely Akande had his reasons for masking his digital trail. From his knowledge to his (too) expensive suit to the small red plates on his head announcing the fine intraneural nerve wiring to his prosthetic, it was clear he was someone , someone who dearly didn’t want to be found trivially. It should have scared Lúcio more than it did. He wasn’t prepared for how hard the fear and realization would hit him.
It had been entirely too easy to find out about Akande on the web. Lúcio thought that he misspelled his name at first because surely this couldn’t be the intimidating but gentle man he met. A quick check of the message of the datapad confirmed he had it right and a hard, cold lump of anxiety settled deep in his gut. He steeled himself and clicked on the first biography page that popped up. His eyes lighted on the picture and the lump immediately shot up into his stomach, nausea rising quickly. He threw the datapad (the same one from Akande) violently away from him and dashed to the bathroom to lose his lunch. The datapad landed on the bed’s comforter and was fine. Lúcio’s emotional state, however, was not.
Lúcio could honestly say before he saw Akande’s picture that there was not much he regretted in life or, at least, nothing he regretted deeply. He mourned deeply those lost in the revolution he’d started, wished there had been a better way, but he knew his regret would do nothing to change the past and only dishonor their memory. He didn’t really regret the actions that led him to lose his lower legs; after all, he wouldn’t be the same person or have all the same friends today with them.
After emptying his stomach, he rested his head back against the wall. He realized, panting slightly, that this was his first true regret. The only person that could reasonably be worse in this situation might be Gabriel Reyes, if he ever really was a person when he was still in Blackwatch (there was still so much he didn’t know or wasn’t privileged to). Or maybe Widowmaker. Still, Akande -- Doomfist -- was terrible in his own right. He killed so many in his rise to power through Talon; more still would be lost Talon’s warmongering efforts succeeded. He was the antithesis to everything Lúcio stood for in his life and Lúcio had let him see the most vulnerable part of him, both personally and with his tech.
The memory of being touched gently by Akande, by the same hands that killed so many, flitted by in his brain and Lúcio smashed his head back against the tile wall, quashing down the nausea that rose violently in him with pain. He took a few deeps breaths and tried to center himself. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he was making it out to be. After all, Aka-- Doomfist certainly hadn’t mentioned to anyone what had happened between them and if he did, it hadn’t gotten out. Maybe this was just another passing thing for Doomfist or at most, some manipulation on Talon’s part. He couldn’t let it get to him. He wouldn’t.
The keypad beeping faintly in the distance was all the warning he got before Hana barged into his room, 76 in tow with a tray of food. Apparently in his internal angsting, he missed dinner. Hana joined him on the floor of the bathroom without hesitation, smoothing his locs away form his face. 76 positioned himself in the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom with the tray balanced on a single hand, obviously irritated by being dragged along but still not leaving.
“You never miss dinner, are you sick?” asked Hana. Lúcio shook his head and smiled weakly at her.
“Nah, I’m not sick,” he said and tried to stand up. Hana pulled him back down to the cool floor.
“What’s wrong? I know something’s wrong. Is it him?” she asked once more. Lúcio glanced up quickly at 76. The old soldier seemed to be unimpressed by what the youngsters before him were talking about and studying the room around him. An arched eyebrow above his visor, though, cued Lúcio into the fact that 76 was actually listening to their conversation.
“Um, kinda,” Lúcio admitted quietly, trying to prevent 76 from listening in. It probably didn’t work; super soldier hearing made having private conversations near impossible. “Just...I think I need to take your advice, for once. I’m driving myself nuts.”
Hana helped him to his feet and together, they stumbled back into the bedroom. His prosthetics feld like dead weight as he settled back onto the bed. Hana relocated the tablet to his bedside table, where 76 also placed the tray of food. 76 averted his gaze when Lúcio undid the locks on the prosthetics but Hana just leaned on his shoulder, entirely used to seeing his legs off and knowing it just made everything more awkward if she ignored the elephant in the room.
76 took up post by the door, clearly waiting for Hana as she whispered to Lúcio, “Love sucks. It gets better though. I promise.”
“It’s not, uh, love and thanks. For the advice. And for dinner.”
She pushed herself off his shoulder and off bed. “No problem! Text me if you need anything else. And hey, maybe you should start taking my advice more often.”
“You had a good idea for once?” rumbled 76’s voice finally. “The world must be ending.”
Hana pouted at him with crossed arms as he poked roughly at the keypad to open the door. 76 waited outside in the hall as she hugged Lúcio.
“Can it, mister,” she told the old soldier as she joined him in the hallway. “Besides, this bit of wisdom wasn’t one-hundred-percent Hana Song Certified. If it goes topsy turvy, it’s your fault.”
The door closed, but Lúcio could still hear the indignant, “My fault?” from the other side as he flopped back down the bed. For some reason, he had a feeling that sleep would not come easy.
Everything that could go wrong, did so like this:
Hana said it took twenty-one days to form a habit. Simple enough, Lúcio thought. Overwatch always had a plethora of missions available, ranging from escort situations to active combat situations. He signed himself up for the most mind numbing missions he can find after he fails to not think of the night in Rio for a week straight. This will work, he told himself.
And it did, for about four days. Four days of pushing himself to the limit and falling in his bed or a cot every night, absolutely exhausted. Four days of getting up, showering, and throwing himself back into his work, healing and guiding and fighting with blood making his skin tacky.
His life hadn’t been this intense since living back in the favela under Vishkar. These missions were the most extreme Overwatch had to offer, the ones that were always waiting for one last brave soul to make them a reality. Lúcio found himself crawling through vent ducts and scorching under the heat of the Cairo sun, all in the name of justice (and keeping his mind off of Akande). He didn’t even realize his plan was working.
Everything went wrong, starting like this:
They’re up in a satellite state of Russia and the air was cold enough to make breathing physically hurt. The sun, just starting to set below the horizon, did not help the temperature at all. The mission is in an area that could be described as a slum. Each shack was built out spare parts, whether from the siding of trains or the hulls of Volskaya mechs and rats, more impervious to the cold than Lúcio was, ran underfoot.The streets were narrow and wound through it in an almost non-Euclidean manner, making it all the more impossible to avoid the sharp icicles hanging from the tin ramshackle roofs. If not for the cold, it would make Lúcio miss his favela fiercely.
There was a definite sense of poverty, yes, but also a feeling of community and belonging. Everyone here knew each other and each other’s business, which made the Overwatch team’s presence all the more glaringly obvious. Their objective was a specific omnic living in one of these shacks, particularly escorting them to safety from the harshly anti-omnic groups circling like sharks around the neighborhood. Omnics were exceedingly rare in Russia, though this omnic had managed to survive long enough to see many others of their kind to safety. Now, only they remained, trapped by those wanting to prosecute them for the crime of protecting others. The community didn’t know or trust their intentions to help, though, and so hidden the omnic remained.
Today’s squad was smaller than their usual six man. He was accompanied by Soldier 76 and McCree, of all people and was dismayed when neither man seemed very bothered by the cold. They split up early on, to gain more ground, and Lúcio found himself quietly skating through icy alleys, followed only by the quiet hum of his sonic amplifier and the stares of the slum’s residents. There was at least a clue to where this omnic might be in the form of some sort of symbol painted on the upper left of their door, but that was according to the worried omnics this one helped. Still, working on old information was better than none at all.
He barely turned a corner when an explosion nearby rocked the slums, causing some of the icicles to fall from the eaves, shattering on the ground melodiously. Lúcio quickly backtracked to the alley he came from in search of better cover, hand reaching up to the comm in his ear to consult his team about what just happened.
76 only had time to growl out, “Talon, Reaper,” before the rest of the icicles crashed down in a cacophony as something heavy landed behind him. Lúcio froze, heart in his throat and his skin prickling up from something other than the cold. He had a feeling that, if he were to turn around, he would know exactly who was behind him.
Everything went wrong because Hana’s plan couldn’t possibly account for Doomfist finding him in the middle of a mission.
Once, he read that the now extinct wolves in America proper would refuse to look at or acknowledge humans when they were caught in a trap. Sometimes, a wolf would twist itself around in a trap if that meant not looking at a human nearby. It was as though they thought trouble didn’t exist or would go away if it wasn’t acknowledged. He didn’t understand it then, but he did now.
“We meet again, Lúcio Correia dos Santos,” rumbled a voice behind him. Lúcio willed his knees to not give out and turned around finally, knowing that not facing an enemy was probably the stupidest thing he could do, next to being intimate with the same enemy.
The next stupidest thing came out of his mouth a moment later and he wanted to slap himself. “Just Lúcio is fine, but you know that.”
The corner of Akande’s mouth twitched up into a smirk as he approached Lúcio. The way he moved reminded Lúcio of some sort of big cat stalking its prey. Any other time it might have been a flattering comparison, but in this case…
The prey was a rather idiotic frog.
Lúcio skated smoothly backwards, intent on putting some space between himself and Akande--Doomfist---he really needed to stop conflating this man with anything but enemy . He hoped Doomfist wouldn’t force him to wallride to escape, as he knew there was another wall fast approaching behind his back. Escaping that giant gauntlet while having little control on a wall other than forward was not Lúcio’s idea of a good time. Really, Lúcio ought to just flee but some stupid part of him wanted to know why he was sought out specifically.
Thankfully, Doomfist stopped. Still, his huge frame filled up the narrow alley to the point where Lúcio could barely see past him. In contrast to the images he saw in his earlier search of the Talon, the mountain of a man actually wore a shirt, with one long sleeve that nearly extended past his free hand and the other tied up above his gleaming gauntlet.
“I am glad to see you once more. You were not on any of the usual missions you take for Overwatch.”
Lúcio’s first thought was that, duh, he wasn’t on any of those missions because he was trying to avoid the man, whether it was actually encountering him or simply thinking about him. His second was to question if Akande was actually looking for him . Was the man actively stalking Overwatch just to talk to him? Subtly, he muted the comm in his ear, listening with only half attention as 76 screeched commands into their line like a hoarse, old crow .
“I have to say that, uh, I’m not really that glad,” Lúcio as he shifted his weight back and forth on his skates and studied the eaves. They were just tall enough that wallriding might be possible to get past Doomfist, but there would be a problem if he wanted to launch himself on top of the building due to the eaves.
The smirk dropped instantly and Lúcio felt his veins turned to ice. Happy Akande was terrifying and intimidating but this was on a whole other level. He wasn’t sure if he would be more intimidated of Reaper if the ghast decided to show his face right then and there (it was doubtful though, if the traded gunfire between a pulse rifle and shotguns in the distance was anything to go by).
“I must admit, I thought you might be slightly more cordial, especially after how our first meeting ended.”
Nope. Nope. What man experienced in modern combat would ever say that in the possible presence of comms that either side could hear ?
“Yeah, no, not after what a quick search of you brought up. No way.” Peeking down the other alley revealed a McCree rolling by like a tumbleweed, quickly followed by gunfire. That was a definite no.
“You did not realize who I was.” It was not a question. Lúcio glanced back and met Akande’s gaze levelly. There was no referring to him as Doomfist anymore, not with his insistence of talking about that night.
“No,” he said. Akande huffed out a laugh and shook his head incredulously. The slight movement caused his giant gauntlet to gleam with the weak rays of the dying sun.
“I see. So you make it a habit then, to let total strangers make modifications that could leave you helpless? To let them bring you to the end and--”
“Could you not?” Lúcio interrupted. “Go there, I mean. To answer your question so you will stop coming back to that, no, I don’t. Now if you could stop mentioning that night, I’d be super happy because I know we both have active comms and I don’t particularly want an international syndicate knowing the details of what I do in my free time.”
“My comm is muted,” Akande said. “I assume yours is the same.”
The gears turned in Lúcio’s head, though he was quickly brought out of his reverie by another explosion, this one closer than last time. Helix rockets, maybe?
“Your team doesn’t know either,” he said slowly.
“Yes,” said Akande.
“You’re not here for Talon reasons,” Lúcio clarified and then asked, “Why are you following me?”
This gave Akande pause.
“This is not entirely Talon related, no,” he said. “I saw a kindred spirit in you that night. One who knew what it was like to fight and rise above, to overcome and be better for it.”
“So, what? You think I’m just going to follow you back to Talon because you helped me out that night? Because I fought in a war and came out on the winning side of it?”
“I did not think it would be so simple as that, but in essence yes.”
A harsh laugh rang through the air and Lúcio realized it was his own. Even Akande looked surprised.
“You really must think I’m some sort of idiot.” Akande tried to object, but Lúcio continued speaking over him, fueled by a level of anger he didn’t know that he possessed. “No, seriously. Did you really think I would be, what, seduced by you into joining Talon? Just because I fit into some part of your weird philosophy? Let me tell you a few things.
“I’m not better because of what happened with Vishkar in Rio. Just because I don’t regret my actions doesn’t mean I want to go through it all again, that I can say I’m better for everything that happened. I don’t know how you could think anyone could be better from losing their legs, their family, everything in their life, from watching children and their parents die from the labor they were forced to do or the beatings from being out past curfew. Even worse is seeing people die in the name of a cause you yourself have spearheaded, before they could ever know a better life.
“You think I’m better for that? That they’re better for that? You can seriously fuck right off with that ideology and take your rich boy self elsewhere because I’m done here.”
Lúcio rushed towards Akande and started to crouch to begin his jump. Akande, seeing the change in posture, lunged for him but missed him by inches, hurtling towards the other end of the alley with the gauntlet. Homefree, Lúcio continued to wallride and flipped around to watch as Akande pulled up short of crashing at the end of the alley before backflipping off a wall to land in the larger street.
“Lúcio, wait!”
The first shot, he reasoned later, didn’t make its mark because Widowmaker wasn’t anticipating the manner of his exit from the alley. Still, it shattered the green plexiglass of his goggles and caused him to land off kilter, not entirely balanced on his skates.
The second hit him, but also not in its intended place. Akande, having realizing the gravity of the situation far before Lúcio did, lunged out of the alley and tackled him into the ground. Still the sniper’s bullet found its way into his right lung, entirely too close to his heart. He wouldn’t know that until later, though.
Lúcio’s world seemed to grind to a halt. Some part of him dimly registered how nice and warm Akande was over him, especially compared to how cold it was. Another part registered Akande yelling into his now unmuted com, ordering Widowmaker to stand down as he was pulled into the man’s lap, while his own comm screamed in his ear.
Akande ripped off part of his sleeve and balled it up. When he pressed it against the wound on Lúcio’s chest, the pain finally cut through the haze in his mind.
Fuck.
He’d been shot.
Pain crawled through his chest like fire and he couldn’t suppress a whimper that came out even more pathetic than it should with a pierced lung. It had been so long since he was last shot -- usually his blades were quick enough to keep him out of the line of fire. It was a familiar enough of a sensation to know that something was very, very wrong with the way pain flowed through his body.
Akande murmured apologies as he cradled Lúcio’s body and kept the cloth pressed to the wound, though it was quickly apparent it was doing nothing to help. Lúcio smiled and tried to laugh, even as he failed catching his breath. There were worse ways to go than been looked after by a really attractive guy he thought and he must have vocalized it because Akande ruefully chuckled as he raised a hand to cradle Lúcio’s face. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open and the hand that was cradling his face soon turned to striking it lightly, probably in an attempt to keep him awake.
He heard footsteps quickly approaching and suddenly, the pain cut to a fraction of what it had been. Lúcio found the strength to crack open his eyes and he saw Akande still looming over him, tense and lit by a warm yellow light. Lúcio let his head loll over to the side and saw 76 crouched by them. That explained the light, most likely from one of the soldier’s portable biotic fields.
“I’m not going to kill you,” 76 said quietly. “I’m not even going to tell anyone about this. I’ve been through this same thing. Just please, give him to me. We can still save him from the venom.”
Venom? Was that what was making this so painful?
Akande hesitated, before gently lifting Lúcio up from his lap and letting 76 take him into his arms. The cold leather of 76’s jacket was significantly different from Akande’s own natural warmth and Lúcio shivered violently. Akande’s hand stroked the side of his face gently and Lúcio leaned into the warm touch thankfully.
“Take care of him,” Akande told 76, who inclined his head slightly in response. The soldier shoved the biotic emitter in his pocket and took off running. Lúcio didn’t make to the ship before losing the fight to unconsciousness, but he was awake long enough to hear the tell-tale boom that announced Akande’s takeoff with the gauntlet.
It took three days for Lúcio to wake up completely.
In the meanwhile, he woke up for seconds or minutes at time.
Once, he woke up to Hana tying his hair back in a scarf, considerate of the way it went absolutely bonkers whenever he slept or neglected to take care of it. Her face was puffy and red, probably from crying and she stroked his face gently when she saw that his eyes were open.
Another time, he saw Zenyatta meditating in the corner of the room, lit only by the afternoon light filtering in through the blinds. The chiming of the orbs around the omnic quickly lulled Lúcio back into unconsciousness.
When he finally awoke, the room was empty save for 76. The old man sat in a chair in the corner where Zenyatta previously was, snoring beneath a magazine that lay on his face. The room was darkened and from the lack of light outside, Lúcio could guess it was well past the time any decent person should be awake. Sore and conscious of the too-tight bandages that swaddled his abdomen, Lúcio carefully sat up. He was surprised when nurses didn’t immediately swarm in with the pick up in heart rate, but it was night after all. He noticed that someone had taken his legs off and it irked him slightly that they weren’t in sight.
He tucked a stray lock of hair back into the scarf and dipped his head to his chest to inspect the wound, or what little he could see of it. Purple blood vessels, so dark they were nearly black, crawled out from under the bandage, clearly damaged by whatever the bullet was laced with. It would be a long while before he was completely recovered. With the wound so close to his heart, he was lucky to even be alive at all. Sighing, Lúcio pulled the covers back up over his chest just as someone entered the room.
The omnic clearly wasn’t a nurse. His (because this was probably the most masculine omnic Lúcio had ever seen) expensive suit looked extremely out of place in the hospital and he wasn’t the standard build that any of the nurses probably were. In contrast to most omnics he knew, including Zenyatta, this one had custom sculpting done on his frame to give him a more human-like appearance, belying that he was something outside of the range of the common omnic. Lúcio also noted with some disquiet that all of the omnic’s vital lights were red.
Could this be the omnic they tried to rescue in the slum? God, he hoped so. His luck lately would have this mystery bot be entirely bad news.
“Ah good, you’re awake,” he intoned, mechanical voice belying an accent that was, again, entirely by choice and out of the common range for most omnics. The omnic placed a wrapped box, presumably a gift of some sorts, at the foot of his bed with many more Lúcio hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you,” said Lúcio. The omnic chuckled darkly.
“That is good,” he said, “for both you and me, but irrelevant nevertheless. I am here on behalf of a mutual friend to check on you and deliver a gift.”
Lúcio eyed the omnic carefully. He was starting to have a few guesses to who this omnic might be and quite a few of them led back to the hole in his chest.
“How...exactly did you get in here?” Lúcio asked and glanced at 76, who still appeared to be quite passed out but still breathing. “Overwatch’s security is pretty good and if I don’t know you…”
“Their security can be the best in the world but it’s not going to stop the owner of this hospital from walking in whenever he pleases.” The omnic tapped at the datapad on the wall, pulling up Lúcio’s charts and examining them. “And don’t go looking for my identity either, you won’t find anything worthwhile there.”
Another glance at 76. Another snore.
“Did you, uh, do something to him?”
“Just a mild sedative in the coffee creamer. Don’t worry, he’ll wake up eventually.”
“So, if your...friend....needed to know how I was doing, why not just check my records through the access you already have?” Lúcio asked and the omnic turned away from the datapad with a sigh.
“Do your questions never cease? And you never ask the right one...Humans, even the more intelligent ones, are astoundingly illogical sometimes. Seeing the records was not enough to assure his heavy heart, though I’m not sure what my presence here will do in regards to that. I will say though, you are looking remarkably well for being on the receiving end of Amelie’s gun.”
Everything clicked at once.
“You’re from Talon. Akande sent you.”
“Finally, some sign of intelligence. Yes, he did. For some reason I’m failing to comprehend at the moment, he has stake in your continued existence. Now that I’ve seen sign of life in all your lacking faculties, I shall take my leave.”
And like that, the omnic strutted out of the room just as suddenly as he had arrived. Dumbfounded, Lúcio could only stare at the small present, wrapped in red paper, sitting out of his reach at the foot of the bed. Everything was spiralling out of control. The night with Akande should have never left the hotel, but now it landed him in the hospital. Overwatch probably thought that he was compromised, Talon was probably looking at him like he was a piece of meat, and now everyone would know how much he messed up.
A short time later, 76 startled himself awake with a snore and then proceeded to act like he’d never been asleep in the first place. Lúcio didn’t enlighten him as to their curious visitor and soon enough, 76 was replaced by a weepy, but happy, Hana. With her, she brought the datapad from where he had abandoned it beside his bed. He left it closed and let her chatter away about what was happening back at the Watchpoint. Being the friend she was, she immediately picked up on his quietness though he initially tried to wave it off as a reaction to recovery and the drugs they had him on.
“76 told me what happened, you know,” she said quietly. “As far as I know, he didn’t tell anyone else. You can talk about it if you need to.”
He shook his head and his gaze caught on the box at the end of the bed for what was probably the thousandth time. Tracing his gaze, Hana grabbed it.
“You keep looking at it,” she explained as she dumped it in his lap. It was heavier than he thought it would be. “Just open it. I think I know who it’s from.”
Sighing, Lúcio carefully untied the silk ribbon binding the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a poncho of some sort, made from tan lengths of woven cloth with green stripes running parallel to its length. Upon closer inspection, there seemed to be little stylized frogs embroidered upon the cloth, hopping the length of the stripes on the front of the fabric leading up to what Lúcio presumed was the neck hole. The reverse side was lined with a heavier cloth, softer than the top fabric by far.
“It’s neat,” said Hana as she reached out to run her fingers over the texture, “but what is it?”
“I’m not really sure either,” Lúcio said. “Look, you can take off the lining.”
“It looks really warm,” Hana murmured as she smoothed her hand over the soft lining. “Which is good, you’re always shivering unless you’re south of the equator! He probably noticed too.”
Lúcio said nothing and traced the outline of a frog. Hana watched him mope for a moment before she snatched the gift from his hands.
“You should wear it!” she announced and fed her hands through the fabric, presumably trying to find the neck opening to shove it over Lúcio’s head.
“Hana, no,” he objected. “I’m fine. Also I have no idea how to wear it.”
“Hana yes,” she said, “and we’ll figure it out together. Hold still!”
Luckily for Lúcio, Soldier: 76 chose that moment to wander back in the room with Efi, a hand on her shoulder. Probably to keep her from excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet, something she almost alway did when she came to see him.
The hand failed to keep her from tackling him.
“Lúcio!” she cried as she barreled into his chest. Lúcio nearly bit through his lip to keep from crying out as her head smashed into the bandages on his chest. “I was so worried but everyone else at Overwatch said you were going to be okay but the mission details said that both Widow and Doomfist were there and oh my gosh I can’t even begin to imagine what happened, you should have taken Orisa with you--”
“Efi, it’s alright,” he reassured, prying the small girl from her tight hug around his chest. Efi didn’t seem to notice him gritting his teeth. “It all worked out okay. We’ll try to take Orisa next time, okay?”
She nodded solemnly and added, “She would have been able to kick Doomfist’s butt. Then he wouldn’t be able to hurt you or anyone else.”
Lúcio looked up guiltily to meet Hana’s pained gaze (and 76 too, if he’d actually been able to see past the visor).
It was funny how the most innocent phrase could just punch through him like a bullet.
Thankfully, Efi was distracted by the gift in Hana’s hands.
“Oh! An agbada! Can I see it?”
“Is that what this is?” Hana asked. She handed over the folded fabric to Efi, who sat back at the end of the bed and unfolded it. She traced the pattern and giggled when her fingers found the frogs.
“Yup,” she said. “It’s a super common thing for men to wear in Numbani. Or really, any Yoruba guy anywhere. Where did you get this? It’s really cute!”
“Um, a friend gave it to me,” Lúcio admitted.
“A guy friend?” asked Efi with a sly smile and Lúcio felt his face start to burn. She laughed. “It’s okay, I can tell. With the way that this was woven, I can almost guarantee a guy made it. Here, let me help you put it on.”
Lúcio leaned forward as much as his bandages allowed him to let Efi slip the agbada over his head. He was only able to get one arm through a sleeve for fear of snagging his IV, so he elected to keep it slightly wrapped around his abdomen under the cloth. Efi tugged the agbada into place, consequently dislodging the breathing tubes from his nose.
“Oops, sorry!” she said as he fixed them. “But really, you look pretty good. You’re not quite tall enough to be called agunt'asoolo, but it suits you anyway. Whoever made this for you really put a lot of care into it.”
“Yeah...he did.” Lúcio mumbled as he ran his free hand down the front of the agbada. This was physical proof of either how smitten Akande was with him, or how desperate Talon was for him to join them.
He wasn’t sure what was worse.
“I’d still wear something underneath it in the future,” said Efi, oblivious to his turmoil. “It’s really meant to be an overcoat of sorts. Maybe Orisa and I will make you some beads for your hair to match with little speakers in them. Don’t you think that would be awesome, miss Hana?”
Hana nodded with a tight smile on her face. The look she shot Lúcio plainly said we need to talk about this soon and Lúcio averted his gaze back down to the agbada. 76 was not immune to the tension in the room and checked an imaginary watch on his wrist.
“Five more minutes, kiddo,” he growled out. “He’s not going to get any better with you playing on him like a jungle gym.”
Efi plainly struck up a pout. When her parents let her visit Orisa back at whatever watchpoint she currently based out of, the pout was the demise of nearly anyone around her and she was consequently able to get away with murder.
Nearly everyone, except for Ana and 76.
Soldier: 76 stared down the small girl and when it became apparent that he wasn’t bowing, Efi turned her attention back to Lúcio, chattering about some of her newer plans and his concert schedule. When finally 76 determined her time was up, she hugged Lúcio tightly (and no, he wasn’t going to admit exactly how much it hurt, it was humiliating that the strength of an eleven-year-old’s hug made him want to cry) and hopped off the bed. It was Hana who escorted her from the room this time, leaving 76 and Lúcio alone in the small room.
Lúcio shrugged off the agbada and folded it carefully as his nurse finally came into the room. 76 took it from him and set it by the holopad at the side of the bed while his nurse ran through his vitals and started a new drip of medicine going.
“You’re going to be out like a light here in a few,” said his nurse, “so you may want to do whatever you need to before you’re dead to the world again.”
His nurse helped him walk stiffly to the bathroom and after settling him back down in bed, left. 76 settled down in the chair beside the bed and Lúcio prepared himself for a lecture. The old man said nothing, though, as Lúcio fussed with the scarf around his hair (hopefully Hana was up for helping him redo all of his locs once more). Finally, the soldier let out a sigh.
“You’re not the first to do this, you know,” he said, “and you’re definitely not going to be the last.”
“I’m not exactly doing anything,” Lúcio told him, trying to keep the snapping edge out of his voice. “Really, I’m trying not to do anything. But...but…”
He shook his head and immediately regretted it as dizziness sucker punched him from the movement. Obviously, the meds were kicking in.
“But he won’t let go,” 76 said. “And really, I don’t think you’re ready to let go either. Kid, you look like a love sick idiot anytime you so much as see that thing he got you.”
Lúcio flopped back on the bed and huffed.
“So?” he finally snapped, feeling more than a little immature. “So what? Are you going to take me off mission rosters because I’m compromised? Remove my agent status?”
“I’d be a hypocrite if I did,” said 76 and Lúcio stared at him. “Again, you’re not the first to do this. You have a good head on your shoulders and I don’t think you’re going to be leaping to join Talon anytime soon, or give them too much information.”
“So why bring this up, then?” Lúcio’s words came out slurred and his mind struggled to gain traction. He wondered if he’d remember this discussion the next time he woke up.
“I just…” 76 sighed again. “I just don’t want to see you making the same mistakes I did. There’s two sides to this, there always is. Don’t do anything stupid but…”
76 reached up to the visor as if to pinch his nose but settled for running his fingers through his white hair.
“Just know that there’s more to life than fighting, okay? If there comes a time that you’re starting to doubt if you’re in the right place, don’t ignore those doubts. Listen to them. It’ll serve you well.”
76 stood up and reached out to lightly ruffle what he could reach of Lúcio’s hair.
“Take care of yourself, kid. Get some sleep.”
Lúcio watched with drooping eyes as the old soldier marched out of the room and thought back to his encounter with Akande. The face Akande had given him when Lúcio ripped into him was one of a man who, for the first time in his life, doubted the ground on which he’d built his life. 76’s words echoed in his head as he gave into the medication and spiralled into unconsciousness.
He sincerely doubted that he was the one having second thoughts about where he was in life.
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Cringe Tag Game
I’ve seen this passing around and thought it would be fun to join in.
Rules
i. post a quote or short excerpt from your early days of writing (i’m talking old fanfics, slash fics, original fics, etc., that are barely edited and have a ton of technical errors and misspelled words). this is the cringe part. don’t edit anything! let it be horrendous. don’t panic.
ii. post a quote or short excerpt from your most recent works/WIPs. something that you’re proud of. something that you’ve written that makes you smile when you read it.
iii. tag a writer you admire, anyone who you think is amazing, new friends, followers, writeblrs, anyone you’d like to know more about. if you think someone is a great writer and you want to see how they’ve developed their skills, tag them! everyone started somewhere.
---
The Cringe is from the oldest thing on my harddrive, Carnal Jesus. It was my first “serious” novel started when I was 17 (in 2004) and plonked at for four years before I realized I’d spent four years laboring over a book with no plot:
It wasn’t quite dark when Davin got out of work that Thursday; the sun was caught in the space between late afternoon and early evening, hanging low on the horizon but burning cold, a thick hazy-orange disc of light that spread over everything, making the colors too rich and the shadows too long. It was almost dim enough to look at, like an enormous harvest moon, fat and lazy in a dark blue sky. He remembered reading somewhere that twilight came in the northern hemisphere because the sun had already dropped under the horizon, but the light would still be reflected for a little while before totally disappearing; that by the time the sun set, it would already be long gone, and the light was just its ghost. He’d read somewhere else that it took eight minutes for the sun’s light to reach the earth; that if the sun were ever to suddenly blink out of existence, people would live out their normal lives for eight minutes, not knowing anything was wrong, before they were immersed in darkness.
There was a tow-truck in the parking lot, hooking up to the battered remnants of a silver-grey pickup truck. There were three people huddled around it, talking; one was wearing the blue jumper of a tow-truck driver, one the black suit of a Coalition investigator. Davin cut across the parking lot on the other side, avoiding them, hoping Julian didn’t see him. He could imagine that the Coalition investigator was filing a report on “possible terrorist activity”; they generally passed through town in the morning, evaluating the damage of hate crimes, deciding who was at fault, who to put under surveillance. It was the government’s official stance that there were no Vigilantes; their crimes were conveniently swept under the rug and attributed to the dangerous rebel LMH, or worse, to the monstrous half-entities that made up the Eliminated. It wouldn’t do, after all, to have the nation believing that there was inner turmoil in the flawless democracy, that the sides weren’t painted so neatly into angels and monsters. They would be doing a background check on Julian tonight, maybe tomorrow at the latest. Davin wondered what they’d find, if it would be enough to do anything with, or if they’d let him go a little longer under surveillance to see if they could get him on better charges. He wondered what would happen to Julian and whatever people he was affiliated with, then tried to decide if he’d care.
---
The New is from River of Souls, which is actually kind of a re-write of CJ in the sense that I gutted everything except for the characters and wrote them into a completely different sort of story. RoS is the first of a trilogy and I’m hoping to publish the three books early next year:
It's just me and the guy with no face, and I stand awkwardly, not sure on the protocol here. Do I sit down? Do I try to strike up conversation? The Undead seems to be staring at me, but it's honestly hard to tell with his drooping eye trailing down his bandaged cheek.
He doesn't say anything, but he lifts a hand and motions toward the couch, and I hesitantly tread past him and settle onto the edge of the cushion, quelling the urge to fidget. I can't quite keep myself still, though, and I start rhythmically popping the joints of each finger, over and over until I'm half afraid the bones will snap.
The dog, still apparently fascinated by me, jumps up onto the couch beside me and shoves his big shaggy head into my side, thrusting his face under my hand. I bury my fingers in his fur, grateful at the distraction.
The guy with no face makes a throaty, strangled sound that sounds like choking. I glance at him, and see his body shuddering, minuscule convulsions that tremor through his frame. I realize that he's laughing.
"Your dog is nice," I offer, as a point of conversation.
He grunts, and swallows noisily, like battling back a retch.
I only dimly remember my grandfather -- he died when I was little, leaving most of my memory-making to my grandma -- but this faceless Undead reminds me of him in some way. My grandfather didn't speak English, and we had learned to communicate through a similar language of grunts and gestures and shared silence. I remember he would take me onto his knee and give me strange sweets, candies laced with mango and chile powder, and sometimes he'd stuff dollar bills into my pocket with a conspiratorial wink.
The memory warms me toward this guy, this stranger who shares so much with me but who it's impossible to know. I give up on trying to communicate and turn instead to the television, letting myself get engrossed in the grainy melodrama, the rhythmic motion of fingers raking through fur, the hot breath of a dog snuffling against my body.
It's not home, but it feels like it almost could be, and it's the most comforting thing I've experienced since I woke up dead in a ditch off the interstate. I cling to this, because I know it can't possibly last.
--------------------
Sometime, I’ll go digging around in my things to find the hard copies of the really old stuff I have. I have stories I wrote when I was 11 that I haven’t looked at in 20 years that are probably very entertaining.
Tagging: @cog-writes @comicreliefmorlock and um anybody else who wants to do this I’m garbage with remembering names and who’s done these things lately.
#writeblr#tag games#house of lazarus#honestly CJ wasn't half bad#aside from my allergy to paragraph breaks#it's just the plot#there was no plot#it was 90k words of Davin ruminating#so much ruminating#god help us all
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