#Jeb is the only one of these I would actually consider naming any of my kids

[lil-als]

#Jeb is the only one of these I would actually consider naming any of my kids #newt gingrich #mitt romney #jeb bush #rand paul #spiro agnew

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

New Religion

Chapter Fourteen of The One Condition Series | Chapter Fifteen

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You and Leto are alone aboard The Crest, but things aren't as innocent as they initially were.

TW: sexual harassment, blood, Din being violent, and an open wound

Notes: Hi everyone !! I hope you all enjoy this chapter ((: I am going to be taking next week off due to the fact that I will be spending the upcoming holiday with my family and sneaking away to write smut might be frowned upon *sigh* but don't worry I'll be back ! I have no intention of leaving everyone hanging ((: Happy reading <3

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Under any other circumstances the walk would actually be peaceful. The native birds sing a melodic tune, the wind is causing the trees to dance in an unsynchronized manner, and the flowing streams babble in a language that has been lost to everyone but them. Din can name on a single hand the amount of walks he has gone on simply for pleasure. This should be one that he adds to the list. Unfortunately, his mind is as detached as can be from the scenery. Thoughts of you alone with Leto plague him as he continues his trek with the father, Jeb. How he hungrily eyed you from the moment he walked up. The way he smiled at you when he was being introduced. The audacity of him to sit with you in the grass and try to play with the kid. He allows himself to quietly laugh when he remembers how the child growled at him and receded to the sanctity of your lap. He needs to remember to give him an extra helping of dried meat for that. Although that laugh is quickly stifled when he remembers how Leto scrambled up out of the grass to assist you. 

Something was off in how he offered to watch over you while he left. He could sense goodness and geniality in Jeb. The way he winked at you was paternal and joking, but Leto had other motives. He could feel it in his bones. A part of him felt guilty for remaining so quiet as the old man spoke of nothing and of everything next to him. With his head swimming in anxiety riddled thoughts, Jeb’s words sounded as if they were underwater. He would half heartedly nod his head or mumble out a ‘hmm’, but nothing of any substance. They had only been walking for twenty minutes, maybe he could still find a way to get back to you. The gnawing he felt in his chest grew almost physically painful with each step he took that carried him farther away. Din clears his throat and prepares to articulate the lie of the millenia. 

“I just realized I didn’t check to see if the thruster’s central radial disc got damaged.” 

Of fucking course he checked to see if it was damaged. He spent hours up there before salvation arrived. He went over every inch of that thruster. He knew exactly what was damaged and what wasn’t, but Jed didn’t need to know that.

“Those ‘asteroids’ must’ve really rattled ya’ can there, partner.”

Din shrugs as innocently as he can before he continues. “I know for a fact the engine is busted, but if the disc is broken as well the new engine installation won’t make a difference.”

The two have slowed their steady walk to a light stroll. Din watches as Jeb seems to consider what he said. 

“Tell ya’ what,” he stops and faces him. “I’ll keep treckin’ on to the warehouse and load up both a pre-empire thruster engine and a central radial disc in a cart. You head back to the ship and check on that part. If it's fine then I’ll just take the disc back, but if it ain’t then our skins will be saved with the backup.”

Din nods in approval of the plan. He apologizes for ‘glossing over’ such a key component, but Jeb just brushes it off and assures him ‘that accidents happen’. After a firm handshake, Din is retracing his steps. He is hurtling towards The Crest, the baby, and you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“But you're not too busy to stare longingly at some man whose face you can't even see?”

The cup of caf you pick up scalds your hands. Somehow its burn feels better than what Leto says. You have no idea how to respond to that. You watch him calmly blow on his own drink before taking a sip. His eyes never leave your face. He is practically daring you to expose yourself.

“Inquisitive, aren’t you?”

“I’m just trying to feel the situation out.”

“So that was your attempt at trying to ask if I'm single?” You laugh dryly.

“Well…are you?” His brows raise slightly.

Truthfully, you don’t know. You and Din have never had the talk about exclusivity. Then again the two of you are the only ones who roam around the hull walls, so there really was no reason. He’s the only person you want to wake up next to, the only person who doesn’t see you as damaged goods because of your scar and your bloody history, and the only person you trust. The night that he told you his true name you had also told him your true feelings. Until the universe burns out. You meant every syllable and more of that sentence. You would have him any way he allowed you too. When he said it back to you, especially in Mando’a, you had a feeling he meant more too. It had unwittingly become a declaration of love between the two of you. So you guess, maybe you do know after all.

“I’m not actually.” You straighten your back as you say it. It felt good to hear it out loud.

“Ahh I see,” he sets his caf down on the crate he is leaning against. “The Mandalorian beat me to the punch.”

“To be clear, I never said who I was dating.”

“Oh come on. I’m sure you spend more time alone with him than you do with yourself.”

“It’s not as if we are on a galactic star cruiser,” you wave your free hand around you. “There is only so much room.”

“Fair, but tell me what he has that I don’t.”

“You’re fucking joking right?”

“I, for one, can show my face,” he takes this as an opportune time to wink at you. “Two, I have an actual house and not a ship being held together by hope and some fraying wires. And three, I’m your age.” 

He lists these off as if they are going to make you drop your panties right here on the hull floor. As if these are the only three criteria for the most perfect match in all the cosmos. He is making you feel ill and your only solace is that the child is safe and away from him. 

“Charming.” You dully say while setting your caf down.

“Aren’t I? So really, what does he have that I don’t?” He takes a step towards you. 

Your eyes dart to the still open ramp. You want to make a break for it, but you could never leave the baby alone with this neanderthal. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he chides in a sickeningly sweet timber. “My father and your oh so precious Mandalorian are long gone. It’s just us, baby.”

“I’m not your fucking baby.” You hiss, taking a step back.

“But you could be.”

“For The Makers sake, get a grip, Leto!”

“I’m just having a bit of fun with you.” He laughs as he says your name.

“This isn’t fun for me. It’s getting weird. Maybe you should go back with your dad.”

“And leave you here all by yourself?” When he smiles, it isn’t the warm one you received when you first met. There is malice behind it this time.

“Trust me, I have a feeling I’ll be much better off alone.” 

That wipes the smile off his face. It’s now replaced with a scowl. Not even the warm air flowing in from outside can deter the chill that settles around the two of you.

“Fine, but not without a kiss for the chivalrous hand I’ve lent you.”

“You’re getting nothing from me.” 

“What’s a small kiss for me to the countless hours you spend on your back like a whore-on-call for a bounty hunter?”

He grabs your arms too quickly for you to move out of his reach. His grip feels like it's burning a hole through the sleeves of your shirt. You curse and struggle against him as he laughs callously. Your fight or flight kicks in and you ram your knee into his crotch. He releases you and buckles to the floor with a yelp. The adrenaline flooding your system propels you past the huddled mass on the floor in front of you. You make a beeline for the childs pram. You and the baby need to get out before Leto recovers. The Maker was on your side with that first shot, but you aren’t sure how long your luck will last. As you reach the crib you hear a low laugh behind you.

“Like it rough do you? I can play like that too.”

“So can I.”

You dare to peak over your shoulder, body still shielding the enclosed child, to see the owner of the voice. Din. He is on Leto instantly. He grabs a fist full of the back of Leto’s shirt and pulls him backwards towards the crates. 

Din heard the man’s yell from outside the ship. He could feel the blood in his veins turn to ice at the sound. He scaled the ramp and the sight he saw made him go blind with rage. You huddled over the crib and Leto stalking over towards you.

“Like it rough do you? I can play like that too.”

Red is all he sees as he drags him back across the hull floor. He slams Leto against the crates and holds him there. His is flailing under his hand only because the realization that he isn’t getting free on his own accord hasn’t set in yet. Din can see Leto’s mouth moving and spit flying, but the sound is lost to him. His own breathing echoing around inside his helmet is the only thing that reaches his ears. Years of training takes over his body as he unsheaths his vibroblade. He can feel the man still under his grip as the blade hovers over his throat.

“What’s wrong, Leto? Don’t want to play rough anymore?”

Leto opens his mouth to speak, but is met with a fist careening into the underside of his chin. Another pain fueled wail is heard throughout the hull. His tongue must have been smashed in between his teeth because blood starts pouring out of his mouth. Din doesn’t care as he moves the knife back to its original position. 

When he tilts the weapon closer to Leto’s trembling neck he catches a glimpse of you in it. The shaking of the blade doesn’t allow a clean image, but he could spot you anywhere. You’re still sprawled out over the crib with your back to him. You could have left. You could have saved yourself from this man, no, animal, but you didn’t. You stayed behind to protect the kid. His kid. Each other's kid. 

He has never felt uneasy with a weapon in his hand before in his life. If anything it has made him feel more like himself; an extension really. As per The Mandalorian Creed, weapons are a part of the religion. They are just as important and impactful as the beskar he dawns everyday. But this particular weapon, used in this particular fashion, makes him feel sick. Images of your body writhing in a nightmare induced panic in the dead of night come to him. You’re trapped in a never ending cycle of reliving what your brother did to you and how he did it to you. Even though you aren’t looking he is sure you can hear the haunting hum the vibroblade is emitting. He doesn’t want to be the cause of any more pain you endure in your life. At this very moment he feels no better than Alden himself. This thought alone makes him want to kneel in front of you and beg for forgiveness. If you asked him to cast aside every weapon he owns he would do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t need them. You have become his new religion. Your body, the altar. In between your thighs, his place of worship. 

As much as he would love to wipe Leto from the face of this planet, he knows he can’t do it. One, at least not in this fashion and two, his father knows he is here. He sheaths the blade back in his vambrace and throws Leto to the ground.

“I should kill you for what you did and what you said. It’s taking everything in me not to.”

His words chill you, but not in the way you expect. No, it isn’t that he is threatening to kill someone. It is that he is threatening to kill someone for you. You silently peel yourself off of the floating carrier and face the two men. Leto's body, while sprawled out on the hull floor, is supported by his elbows. He tries to answer, but blood spurts out instead. 

“If I ever see you again, in this life or the next, I will make it my personal mission to hunt you down and break you.” You watch as Din places a heavy boot on Leto’s ankle. “Do you think you can get that through your fucking head?”

You hold your breath and let your eyes drift over to the man on the ground. He is shifting his gaze rapidly between Din and his trapped ankle. Then you see him glance in your direction ever so slightly. A devastating crack greets your ears as Leto’s elbows give out under him. 

“Don’t you fucking dare look at her,” he forces his foot down more and a succession of popping noises are produced. “Now get the hell off my ship before I change my mind about letting you live.”

“C-can’t walk…my ankle.” 

“Then I suggest you figure it out. Quickly.”

Both you and Din watch as Leto struggles to pull himself up using the rope you have tied around the crates. Neither of you say anything as he braces himself against the wall and struggles his way over to the still open ramp. As soon as he is officially off of The Crest, Din scrambles for you. You’re in his arms in a matter of seconds. One of his hands cups the back of your head and the other wraps itself around your lower back. You have yours thrown around his neck and feel tears start to pick your eyes when his body shudders against you.

“I-I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t shake the feeling.” 

“I’m safe now,” you say as steadily as you can. “I’m safe, Din.”

“Say it again. Please, say it again.”

You tell him that you’re safe until it feels like the only sentence you have ever known in your life. With each passing minute he has you in his arms, you can feel his breathing start to stabilize. With each utterance of the confirmation of your safety, you can feel his muscles relax. His hands on your body never loosen and neither do yours. You hold each other until the world around you fades away and nothing else exists except this moment in a timeless universe.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“So where did you say Leto ran off too?”

“He had a really bad headache,” you call up to the two men on the right wing of The Crest. “When Mando came back, he said he was going to go home and sleep it off.”

A small knot forms in your belly as you realize the two men could have seen each other on the path home. Leto got what he deserved, but you didn’t want Jeb to stop helping Din just because he finished what Leto started. You and Din must be thinking the same thing.

“You didn’t run into each other?”

“Oh no. I took the longer route when I was headed back towards ya’. It was easier on the wheels of my cart.”

Relief washes over you as you watch the men work in sync together. By the time Jeb goes home and sees the state his son has been left in, your party of three will be long gone. You also have a feeling that the coward won’t even admit why he looks like that. His ego lies shattered on the floor of The Crest.

You and the baby occupy your time playing in the grass and the river. You want him to have as much time outside as he can. The next stop you will be making is Daiyu and that is certainly no place for a kid to run around carefree. As the day sheds its sunny disposition and the evening clocks in for its shift, fireflies emerge. You bask in the plush greenery and watch the child hobble around trying to catch them. His squeals of laughter float around you and mix with the warm evening breeze. Despite the events that unfolded earlier, you feel safe. You are near the two people that you have grown to care so deeply for in a matter of months. They have proven that they feel the same way about you. The feeling of reciprocated love flows through your body and lights you from within. It’s in this glowy daze that Din finds you.

“Cyar’ika.”

You tilt your head back and look at an upside down man. “Yes?”

“Come say bye. Jeb is going to head back before it's completely black outside.” 

You nod your head and turn your body in the grass to face him. He extends his hand to help you up and you take it with a smile. When you stand the two of you just look at one another until Din brings your hand up to the bottom of his helmet. You watch, starstruck, as he lifts it just slightly to reveal what you only know by touch. His lips press slow kisses on each of your knuckles. With each one you feel electricity shoot through your body. That spark in your veins keeps going even after he replaces his helmet. 

“What was that for?” You can hear your own smile in your voice.

“I’ve always wanted to do that. Now seems like a good time.” 

Din beckons the kid to come over and he responds enthusiastically. He runs, if you could call it that, and hugs his fathers boot. Nothing makes you melt quite like seeing your two boys interact together. 

“Come on, Kid. It’s time to go.”

With the child in Din’s left hand and your hand in his right, you all walk back to send Jeb off. You thank him profusely for being so generous and helpful today, but he shakes it off as if it was all in a day's work. He and Din share a handshake and the baby presents him with a squished firefly. Jeb only laughs and places it in his shirt pocket with a light pat.

“Gotta keep my new loot safe.”

You yell ‘goodbye’ and ‘be safe’ until Jeb and his cart full of damaged parts can’t be seen anymore. Din lets you know that he still has to adjust a few more things before departure. He ushers you inside the hull with a pop on your ass. Your exaggerated shocked expression is met with stoicism, but you know he’s smiling under there. You throw him a wink before you disappear inside.  

You aren’t sure how long Din has been working up there. You can hear him banging on things while you bathe the kid, cook him dinner, and ultimately put him down for bed. You busy yourself by cleaning up the only evidence of Leto on board, his blood, and rearranging items that became dislodged in the shoot out. You’re in the fresher, washing a rag clean, when you hear him come in and close the ramp. 

“Hey can you grab the medpack in there for me?”

Confused and concerned you find the small container and rush out to meet him. He is cradling his left hand in his right as he meets you by his bed. You stand beside him as he sits on the edge of it and slips his left glove off. There is a gash in both his hand and his glove. Din moves his hand forward so the blood oozes onto the floor instead of the sheets. 

“Oh shit, Din.” You kneel beside him and throw open the container, although you aren’t entirely sure what you need to be looking for. “What happened?”

“I went to hop off the wing and my hand slid across some metal that was contorted from the blasts. Grab the disinfectant and then that needle and thread.”

You do as he says. You cup his mangled hand in yours and pour the disinfectant solution over it. While he doesn’t say anything, you can tell it hurts him with the way the muscles in his hand contract against yours. You lean forward and kiss his wrist to give him a silence ‘you’re doing great’. Your hands shake slightly as you take the needle and thread it. 

“I’m scared.” You admit.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” You say this as if it's the most obvious thing in the universe.

With his good hand, Din cups the side of your face. “You could never hurt me, Cyar’ika. Even if you could, I would bask in the knowledge that you’re real enough to inflict pain.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes I…sometimes I get scared I’ll wake up and you won’t be laying next to me. I feel like all of the happiness you bring me can’t be something that exists outside of a dream.”

You take the hand that holds your face and bring it down to your heart. “Do you feel that?” 

“Yes.”

“That means I’m very much real, Din. You’re not dreaming.” 

Sewing the stitches isn’t as bad as you initially anticipated. It isn’t something you will actively seek out, but it’s not that bad. Especially when you have someone telling you how good of a job you're doing as if you are the one with an open wound. You have about three more stitches to sew when Din speaks again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t even move. What are you talking about?” You laugh.

“The knife. I pulled a knife on Leto. I shouldn’t have done that.”

While you hadn’t seen it, you did hear it. Just like when he used it to cut up the child's meat, you found yourself feeling…normal. You hadn’t been taken aback by it or by him. Your heart aches at the thought of him beating himself up over doing something you were almost positive was reflexive. 

“It isn’t about the knife itself per say.” One stitch down, two to go. “It is about who wields it and the intention behind it. I’ll never be afraid of you so therefore, I’ll never be afraid of what you have in your hands.”

“I just don’t want you to look at me and see…your brother.”

“You aren’t him, Din.” Two stitches down, one to go. “When I look at you, I see a man not a monster. You are good, kind, and caring.”

“You make me want to be those things.”

“And you make me feel safe and…”, oh Maker are you about to say this. “Loved.”

“Loved.” 

“Hmm.” Third stitch down. 

You cut the excess thread with scissors you find in the medpack. You squeeze some bacta on your hands and gingerly apply it before wrapping his stitched up hand in white bandages. You pack up the bag and recline on your knees to admire your handiwork. He slowly turns his hand to look at it in its entirety. 

“Does it still hurt?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“So you don’t need me to kiss it?”

“Well, if that's what the doctor orders, who am I to tell her no.”

You smirk up at him while you sit up on your knees again. You take his injured hand in yours and kiss where you just stitched. You can hear a deep, modulated sigh sound out above you. Your lips travel all around the palm of his hand and to each one of his fingers. A smile forms on you as his fingers twitch under the soft skin of your lips. When you finish you sit back down and look up at him. A forced concerned expression makes itself present on your face.

“I don’t think that worked,” you sigh. “Maybe you need something a little stronger.”

“Like what?” 

“Lay back and you’ll find out.”

Sarcasm laces both of your voices. He laughs as he sits back further on the bed, keeping himself propped up on his forearms. Maker, you love his laugh. That deep, sultry sound can light up even the darkest depths of your mind. You wriggle yourself in between his legs and hold your head in your hands. 

“You are so handsome.”

“You can’t even see my face, pretty thing.”

“But I’ve felt it. I’ve felt those full lips, those thick brown, and that nose. Oh Maker, that nose. I’ve even felt that small scar on the bridge of it.”

“Good memory.”

“Only when it comes to things, or people, I care about.”

You hook your fingers under the hem of his pants and them down enough so that you can pull him out. Both of you groan when he is free. You salivate at the sight in front of you. He has worked so hard to fix The Crest and to protect you. Now you are going to make sure he knows how grateful you are. 

You grip the bottom of his length in your hand and lower yourself down. Your tongue swirls around his tip and greedily laps up the evidence of his eagerness for you. You sigh audibly as you feel his hand, his good hand, come up and brush your hair out of your face. You let your tongue roam freely up each side of him. Each time you make contact with his skin, you can feel a shiver run through his body. His modulated breaths have started to hitch up above you. When you finally take him completely, you look up at the masked man above you. You want him to see the desire in your eyes as you sink lower. His hips buck up to meet your mouth as you move up and down lazily on his shaft. Your eyes prick with tears, but you continue to hold your gaze. You send delicious vibrations through his body as you moan.

“Take me just like that, pretty thing. Fuck”

You shine under his praise. Your hand works in tandem with your mouth as you pump the parts of him not in your mouth. You take your other hand and free his balls from their fabric prison. Not wanting to neglect them, you take one of them in your mouth. You feel them start to pull up tightly as you continue to work on them. 

“Can I-can I cum on your face?”

“Oh fuck yes.” You whine.

You sit back on your heels and open your mouth to him as he pumps himself with his own hand. Your name falls from his lips while he releases all over you. Most of it makes it into your mouth, but you feel some of the spray land haphazardly. You hum at the feeling of it handing hot on your face and swallow everything he graciously gives you. Only when you know he is done do you open your eyes and look up at him. You take your finger and swipe some off the excess of your cheek and push it into your mouth. He groans as he watches you hungrily suck on your finger in front of him. 

“You’re so perfect for me.” He is winded as he speaks.

You lean forward again and kiss the tip of him. He hisses at your light touch. You gently tuck him back away and smile drunkenly up at him. 

“Feel better?”

He pulls you up off the floor and into his lap. “Being with what is mine always makes me feel better.”

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#din x reader #din x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #mando x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #one condition #a03 fanfic

[definitely-not-a-wasp]

I'm okay with a bunch of disorganized rambling honestly 😂. But if I had to narrow it down then I guess I want to know about main and side characters and how they compare to the original?

I know that tumblr is the Prime Site for disorganized rambling, but I have perfectionism issues. But that is a great question, nonnie, and I will be happy to ramble is a slightly less disorganized fashion.

When reading Maximum Ride as a somewhat-formed adult who discovered they enjoy English classes about 3.5 years ago, I noticed that JP, when writing, doesn't understand consistency. At all. Which means, in many ways, I have a free sandbox to work with.

Spoilers for my rewrite WIP, because I strongly believe that if a story would no longer be good if one had spoilers, then it wasn’t a good story in the first place.

I'm trying to keep the backstories the same, plus or minus the scientific method and a few characters (RIP my OCs. I want to bring you back so bad but it wouldn't fit with the thematic narrative). I've mostly kept their (starting) abilities the same, too. Without further ado, I'm going to introduce some WorldBuilding. (If I'm good at nothing else, I'm good at world building)

First off. Logically.

How are they getting Cable?

How are they getting internet?

How are they getting money to eat and stuff?

JP's answer: handwave it off. Sometimes you need to ignore logistics for the sake of plot. This is an answer I'd accept from an author that I like, such as Julie Kagawa, that makes amazing worlds, characters, and narratives that I will happily handwave a few things that wouldn't work in the real world. James Patterson, on the other hand, did not make any of that; he made a cool concept, some good rough-draft characters, and nothing else, and therefore this is an unforgivable sin.

Wasp's answer: They are not getting any of that.

Introducing Cottagecore.

The house is off the grid. Solar Panels and a wind turbine create electricity. They have their own well. They grow their own food, raise livestock for eggs, milk, and wool, and trap fish for meat. They get money through dumpster diving and pawning. They still have to steal half of the necessities they can’t make themselves. They do have a TV, but it can access about three channels on a clear day. Internet is only a thing when they go to the public library.

Giving the flock a background that’s heavy in farming and livestock rearing shores up the plot holes mentioned above, but in my opinion, ties the flock more tightly to the environment, thus giving them something tangible to lose when they have to leave the E-shaped house. Because they’re not just leaving a house and a safety net— they’re leaving their entire way of life with no promise of getting it back. It also gives them a tangible connection to the earth in case I want to actually pursue the global warming themes.

Main Characters

Maximum “Max” Ride (Birthname: nonexistent)

First off, I'm letting her be Latina, James Patterson.

In the original, Max was very much the headstrong, independent, action girl. Leaning into Strong Female Character (TM), but overall she had a strong, solid foundation and enough character consistency through the first three books for me to not have to just make an entire new character. However, I felt that she was, in some ways, a bit too Action-Girl and Strong and Capable. Yes, Max is incredible and competent, but she’s also fourteen. She’s a child.

In the rewrite, Max’s character is still headstrong, independent, capable, and sometimes not the best at listening to others. All of that’s the same. But she’s that way not because of girlboss energy, but because there’s no one else to do it. She doesn’t want to lead, necessarily. She wants to get some rest and let someone else handle the problems life keeps throwing at her. But she knows if she did that, the responsibility of leader would fall to Fang and Iggy, and she can’t ask that of them. She doesn’t want to place that burden on anyone else (Look, there’s a reason I chose Ayano’s Theory of Happiness as one of her signifier songs, okay?). Her narrative is very much centered around burden, and also around loss. She lost her cultural heritage when she was taken away from her birth family, she lost her childhood to being a leader, she lost a good deal of her friends to the school (RIP my OCs), she lost Jeb, and then she lost her stability. And she’s going to lose a lot more before the end of the story. So a lot of her character arc deals with learning that there are some things she can’t fix, some things that can’t be recovered. She can’t get the E-shaped house back. She can’t get her Little Baby Angel back, even after they rescue her. She can’t get her friends back from the school. And instead of working so hard to recover those or find something to replace them, she has to learn to live with that sense of loss and move on with her life without feeling guilty for leaving things behind. And she has to learn that asking for help and sharing her burden is selfish or weak.

Other changes I made that don’t necessarily fit into her narrative arc, but you asked for rambling so rambling you shall get:

Max hallucinates, because mental illness is also a prominent theme in the rewrite. She doesn’t have a psychotic disorder, but her C-PTSD causes visual/audio hallucinations, especially when she’s stressed or sleep deprived. 

Max ends up having a Gender Discovery throughout the story and goes by He/She pronouns eventually. I don’t know when, but it will happen.

As far as genetic modifications/special quirks go, she can fly faster than the rest of the flock, but not 300 miles per hour. She averages about sixty mph with diving speeds of 240. She cannot breathe underwater or shut down her organs on command. She also has the Super Special Power to predict the weather, but that’s not because of genetics, it’s because she has chronic pain in her right arm that gets worse when weather fronts change.

Her favored weapon is her trusty rebar that she picked up from a condemned building. I think she’s going to name it eventually but I don’t know what yet.

Fang (Birth name: Gabriel Xue)

In canon, Fang is characterized in early books by being the “dark, strong, silent type”. He’s probably the most reserved member of the flock, to the point of falling into the Brooding Mystery Man trope in parts of the book. They care a lot, but they’re not the best at conveying that, especially with the younger members of the flock, and at times their high empathy leads them to making mistakes. Despite the high empathy, he’s often compared to a robot due to his lack of expression and external emotions.

Well, first change is that they’re not a man, so jot that down—

If Max’s narrative is centered around burden and loss, I would probably say that Fang’s is centered around humanity and moving on. None of the flock was treated as human while in the school, but Fang was more often than not treated like a wild animal due to “behavioral issues”, and therefore had and continues to have a difficult time considering themselves real and alive, let alone human. This manifests through a several different ways— where in canon Fang definitely had a ‘fight’ reaction, in the re-write they have a ‘freeze’ or ‘shut down’ instinct. They’re selectively mute for multiple reasons (including derealization, jaw pain, the fact that they didn’t learn how to speak until they were 10, and genuinely forgetting it’s something they’re capable of), a period of Cotard’s syndrome, and a tendancy towards self-loathing and self-sacrifice. In short, Fang is still halfway stuck in the mindset that most of the flock grew out of when they escaped in the school, and doesn’t know how to move past it.

Much of their character arc revolves around not necessarily seeing themselves as human, but learning to treat themselves as human even when they don’t feel like one (or even feel real), and knowing that just because they don’t feel human all the time doesn’t mean anyone else can treat them the same. They never start easily expressing their emotions, and they’re always going to be selectively mute, but they learn to accept that those aspects of themself aren’t character flaws or signs that they’re sub-human. 

Other additions to Fang’s character include:

They don’t get their hair cut in New York. It stays long through the entire series. They have the longest hair in the flock by the end of the series, and they can wear it in so many styles.

Fang uses they/it pronouns because themes of reclaiming the weapons used against it and, more importantly, Gender.

They’re actually really good at spelling compared to the rest of the flock, because they and Iggy communicate with Print-On-Palm when they’re nonverbal, and they’re nonverbal for some pretty long stretches of time. 

They and Max have... zero romantic tension. At all. There is none. The number of times Max calls them her sibling/little sibling in the first arc alone is staggering, and that will not change.

Igneous “Iggy” (Birthname: Jamsetta “Jamie” Griffiths)

I’ve talked about Iggy before. Canon doesn’t give us much to go off of, but from what’s shown, he’s smart, sarcastic, has sharper edges than Fang and Max, and also has a sizable ruthless streak. So that’s what I have to go off of.

The big difference between Iggy and Fang&Max is that Iggy has a much better memory of the School. Most of the flock have areas (months or years) that they don’t remember, or people that they’ve blocked from their mind, but Iggy... doesn’t. So he’s the one that remembers all of the other AVIAN test subjects that were old enough to have names and identities but died due to complications. Max might have the burden of leadership, but he has the burden of memory. And that has lead to both a massive fucking guilt complex, because why did he survive when they didn’t, and, as mentioned above, a ruthless streak that he doesn’t shy away from.

Which is to say, by the end of the story, Iggy has the highest kill count.

I love, love writing Iggy next to Max and Fang. I love writing Iggy next to Gazzy and Nudge. Because, I say this with all of the love of the world, but Iggy is not a good person. He is loyalty and love incarnate, and the world can burn down if he and his siblings are safe. Max and Fang will always try to save as many people as they can. They will wonder what’s wrong with them the first time they kill and don’t have a mental breakdown about it. They are good in a way that Iggy is not. He’s okay with killing Erasers. He’s okay with killing humans. He’s okay with killing people who might not necessarily deserve it, if they show themselves as a threat or are simply in the blast radius. He knows perfectly well that most of those Erasers he’s murdering are four and five and he is okay with that, because a lot of the AVIANs were that age when they died. (Yeah, in the rewrite it’s not Fang who has an issue with Ari; it’s Iggy who wants the 7-year-old wolf-boy dead.) 

And this is, of course, juxtaposed with Iggy being really, really good with Nudge and Gazzy (especially in the beginning). Because, again, he actually remembers being a child. He remembers a lot of kids that died and is therefore fiercely protective of the kids that didn’t, as well as fiercely protective of the innocence that he never got. So he’s the one that cooks their favorite foods when they’re having a bad day, always makes time when they want to talk about something, and convinces Max to let them go to that toy store in New York because, yeah, he Max and Fang aren’t kids. They never were. But Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel can be. (And if he has to be a murderer to preserve that, then he’s perfectly okay with that.)

He and Angel don’t get along very well, though. The telepath doesn’t like hanging out with the person with the most clear memories of the school.

Other additions:

Iggy is trans and says trans rights

He also has paranoid episodes, because C-PTSD. Sometimes they’re very helpful. Sometimes they are not.

I actually decided that he’s one of the flock that doesn’t meet their parents. I know in canon he did, but I always found that very clunky because it didn’t add to his character. He was one of the characters who, until it was convenient for the plot, seemed to care the least about his family. I’d much rather give that to a character whose arc would benefit from it.

Iggy! Gets! Older Sibling Rights! Seriously, he’s two months younger than Fang, he is just as capable.

Iggy does not know braille because Jeb decided it wasn’t necessary for him to know. Iggy is also the best speller in the flock, because Print-on-Palm was the only way to talk to Fang for a solid year. Yes he mocks everyone over this.

Iggy is the only member of the flock that enjoys swimming and can take into the air from water. Everyone else in the flock is incredibly jealous.

Nudge (Birthname: Monique Robinson)

If Iggy is defined by his memories, Nudge is his polar opposite. She was seven when she left the School, but she has next to no memories of it. She is missing a lot of time in the first year she escaped. And that causes... a lot of things. It makes her feel disconnected from her older siblings, it gives her the ability to function in society in a way the other’s can’t, it lets her feel less grief over the ones that didn’t make it and she doesn’t remember, it makes her feel guilty that she doesn’t remember what she’s old enough to know. 

Basically, in order for me to keep the character of Nudge as I saw her (more extroverted, not afraid of the world, fascinated with humans like her siblings aren’t, desiring to fit in instead of isolate), I had to put a little bit of distance between her and the flock. Of course, she loves them— that will in no way change— but she’s old enough that she should remember the school (and her dead friends) unlike Gazzy and Angel, but she can’t, and she very much fears forgetting the flock if anything happens to them. So she’s trying desperately to keep the flock close and wants desperately to experience the world at the same time, and doesn’t know what to do when she can’t have both. That’s her biggest character conflict throughout the series, along with that in-between area where she’s not quite where her older siblings are but understands so much more than Gazzy and Angel, and where she stands in that.

So yeah. Nudge’s journey is that in looking for belonging in the world, in her family, and in herself.

This is why she’s one of the ones that gets to find her parent, James Patterson. 

Other additions include:

She never straightens her hair. Never. Her resources at the E-shaped house aren’t perfect, but she still has learned how to take care of her hair and has a few styles she cycles through.

She becomes the default person Max sics on people when the flock is trying to befriend them. Also their de-facto diplomat around strangers.

As in canon, she does take some time away from the flock to expirience ‘normal life’. This does not last long due to the stress of being separated from her siblings/not being able to help them and [REDACTED]

Nudge is... not the only person in her head. I’m not focusing on it much because she doesn’t actually know and neither does the flock (I don’t know if they ever figure it out during the series, either), but she has dissociative identity disorder. She’s not aware of her alter(s?). Her alter isn’t super aware of her, either. 

The alter that I’ve developed is named Oxy and is not super aware of the outside world. In her eyes, she’s still seven and they’re still at the School. She would not recognize the body as her own if she looked in a mirror.

Nudge actually leaves the flock for a while to pursue her dream of living a normal life. She deserves it. She learns how to make muffins and the basics of software development. These things are unrelated.

Gasman (Birthname: No first name, surname “Falk”)

Honestly, writing Gazzy is kind of hard for me. Partially because I’m not great at writing kids, and partially because I feel like he’s a pretty surface-level character in-series that... isn’t super compelling in canon. But even if that’s the case, I try to treat all of my characters with respect, so here we go. In my rewrite, he escaped when he was four, which was half a lifetime ago for him, so his memories are ill-defined. Therefore, he managed to circumvent a lot of the trauma that the rest of the kids have, and not in the way Nudge did, which is by creating an elaborate blockage in her memories. 

Which means Gazzy... really doesn’t know how to deal with all of this traumatic stuff happening. So much of his development turns out to be a coming-of-age narrative. Learning how to deal with the horrors of what his siblings grew up with. Learning the fears that they had the entire time. Losing his innocence when everyone around him never had it in the first place, and being so terribly alone because of it. Because, really, how can you explain such a deep loss to people who never had what he had? How can they help in a way that matters?

Also, relationship-wise, I’m slowly deteriorating the relationship between him and Iggy. Slowly. Or, changing it, at least. Gazzy hero-worships Iggy in-series, and for good reason, because Iggy is super cool, especially in the eyes of an eight-year-old, and especially when Iggy has taken care to cultivate parts of his behaviors to be child-friendly. Part of growing up is seeing the flaws in your heroes, and Gazzy has to learn how to deal with it. End of the series Gazzy is much less closer to Iggy than beginning of the series Gazzy, and neither of them are really okay with that, but they learn to live with it, because that’s really all they can do.

Notes:

I’m keeping the mimickry! It plays a bit of a bigger role because that’s how Gazzy learned to talk. I’m debating whether or not he has his own voice or if he just borrows the flock’s as he sees fit. He also uses it to scream really loudly and occaisonally burst the eardrums of Erasers.

At one point he cosplays as Jessica Jones. No you don’t get any more context than this.

He has a horrible sense of fashion.

I’m changing his name eventually because it sucks. He’s either going to change it to Gannet, Garrison, or Ivy Mike temporarily, and permanently to Zephyr. (I never said I was going to make his name GOOD, because he’s eight, but it’s changing. You’re welcome.)

Angel (Birthname: No first name, surname “Falk”)

It’s just... a completely different character, at this point. I’ve changed so many things about her in an attempt to make her consistent and act like a six-year-old and work in the whole “telepath before she has a solid sense of identity”, so it’s a different character. Also, I’m tired of writing coherently or in paragraphs, so have some interesting facts.

She has epilepsy! Super severe epilepsy! I think she might also develop juvenile MS in the future because her brain has so many scars from being a fucking six-year-old telepath. There’s no way she could get out of that unscathed.

She has more memories of the school than Gazzy, but only because she keeps accidentally reading the minds of Max, Fang, and Iggy. On a related note, she interacts with Iggy as little as possible.

The mind reading means that she has a hard time developing as a normal child with a normal sense of identity or reality. She can’t tell how much people are individual people and how much they’re just extensions of her. Conversely, she can’t tell how much of herself is actually her instead of the thoughts/opinions/identities of someone else. It’s... kinda fucked? But also super not-her-fault. 

She’s albino because white wings. Also, because I thought it was cool. This also means that her vision sucks, though. Also she has the biggest straw sunhat and the most stylish sunglasses a six-year-old can have.

She’s responsible for Max shaving her hair off.

She has the highest swear count because I think it’s funny. She’s the only person allowed to say the fuck word in writing. Everyone else can only say ‘hell’ and the occasionally ‘damn’ but she can say whatever she wants for dramatic and comedic value.

She is NOT THE FUCKING VOICE, J*MES P*TTERSON.

Honorable Mentions

Jeb

I’m skipping Jeb because of how little I care about him. He’s a little bitch, next character.

Ari

STILL HASN’T BEEN REVEALED AS AN ERASER. I’ve been writing for 50,000 words and he’s over here saying ‘nope nope not yet, not dramatic enough’. He’s had speaking lines but has refused to make himself known to Max. I am so frustrated with this seven-year-old wolf-child that I’ve already considered how I would kill him, if I decide I want to kill yet another child in my writing.

So, my main thoughts for Ari is that he... really just drew the short end of the stick in every possible way. While Jeb didn’t sign him up for Eraser expirimentation, he didn’t do anything to stop it, and pretty much cut his losses when he realized this expiriment made a wreck of his ‘perfect, unflawed’ son, because Jeb doesn’t consider children of any species to actually be humans. So, Ari really hates his dad, which makes things complicated, because he also really loves his dad and really wants his approval. 

Which means that he also really hates Max, because she’s the child that always got Jeb’s time and attention, even when Ari was human. I think, on some level, he knows that trying to tear Max down to a less-favored level isn’t actually going to help his situation— infighting for the love of an abusive parent won’t make them any less abusive— but he’s also seven, and his development is already severely stunted due to becoming an Eraser, and he doesn’t see ‘leaving ITEX’ as an option like the Flock does. ITEX is his everything. It’s all he’s ever known, and they tell him he’s doing the right thing, and he wants them to love him. He wants his father to love him. He knows that if he ever questions ITEX, his father will never love him. So it must be his older sister that’s ruining his life and being a horrible child, and once Ari drags her back down to his level, Jeb will realize who the best child is and love him properly again.

Ari, on an even deeper level, does care for Max quite a bit, because she’s his older sister and he wants that to mean something in a way that ‘Jeb being his father’ obviously doesn’t. He wants what she made for herself, and he hates the Flock because she loves them and obviously doesn’t love him. 

Ari, if anything, is the product of neglect, and both loves and hates everyone who shows a chance of caring about him. And he’s seven, so he can’t notice these patterns, let alone break them.

So. Notes!

He doesn’t look like an adult. I thought that was gross and unnecessary. He’s seven, but he looks closer to thirteen or fourteen. Still young enough that he looks like every Eraser’s little brother, and the Erasers high-key treat him like it.

On a related note, he’s the only Eraser who can talk. The others don’t have the mental capacity or vocal structure to replicate human speech, but they can understand language (at about the level of a two or three year old) and are very good at nonverbal communication. This is why Ari managed to climb the ranks despite only having three years of “service” and also looking like a tween.

He doesn’t have an expiration date because that is SUCH a stupid plot point.

I’m giving him a chainsaw! I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but he deserves to have a chainsaw and GODDAMN I will give it to him.

Emergency and Gene

The OCs that I love and also killed pre-series. They don’t have any scenes, because they’re dead, but their deaths greatly effected Max, Fang, and Iggy, and they are very commonly referenced. Their voices are probably Max’s most common hallucination, to the point where she sometimes pretends they’re ghosts that she can talk to. They’re not ghosts. They’re dead.

Dr. Valencia Martinez

I’m actually keeping her pretty close to canon— loving, supportive, the type of person to take in a gsw victim with minimal questions. The difference is that rather than kindness fueling her actions, it’s incredible guilt. She has three goals surrounding Max: Give her as much support in any way she can, teach her as much about chicane culture as possible, and never let Max know that she’s her birth parent.

(She’s probably going to fail at AT LEAST two of those, but it’s the thought that counts.)

Notes:

She has a pet fox named Robin Hood that she rescued from an exotic animal salesman that got arrested.

I think I’m going to kill her. I don’t know yet, but it’s on the table.

Anne Walker

Y’know, the fake FBI Agent. Who’s not actually a fake in my story because I hated that plot point. She’s genuinely an FBI agent who put the Flock into pseudo-witness-protection in order to build a case against the Institute of Higher Living, accidentally got attached to her prime witnesses, raised them for a few months, realized a [SPOILER] and promptly had to let them get the hell out dodge.

I really like the Anne Walker that lives in my head. She is a VITAL part of the Flock’s development, their mental/emotional recovery, and adding to their safety net to fall back on. She serves them as their first adult role model, and is the first adult to show them what parent/child are supposed to look like from a healthy perspective. Though she has several fuck ups, she becomes someone that the Flock genuinely trusts and loves, which makes it all the more difficult for them to leave when [REDACTED].

Notes:

She and Max do butt heads initially, because Max is paranoid and also afraid of becoming uneeded. This ends up being incredibly important because Max needs to learn how to live and find meaning in life without being the designated Leader/Parent/Big Sister

Anne, at one point, sits the entire flock down to teach them about consent, which was something no one ever talked about with them before. She goes in talking specifically about consent in a romantic/sexual sense (because they’re fourteen and that’s something they need to know), but quickly turns into a full-fledged no, people are NOT allowed to do that to you, what the FUCK.

She’s responsible for giving the flock a laptop. It’s because Angel is online schooled (bc telepathy makes actually learning difficult) and was therefore provided with a computer.

Anne is also allowed to swear, but only when it’s funny.

Michael “Grey” Rivers

Aka Grey from the Sewers Aka GR3Y H47 Aka Mike from the Bronx Aka Gifted Child Syndrome Incarnate Aka Would-be-in-MIT-if-his-parents-weren’t-horrible. He’s my son, your honour.

Basically, his backstory boils down to him being a genius, getting into MIT at 14, his (horrible) parents wanting a perfect child who could “make it out” of the Bronx and represent his family/neighborhood/borough to the world. When he inevitably failed their expectations due to stress, a schizophrenic-spectrum disorder that completely alienated him from the rest of his support network, and refusing to take his psych meds because the side effects were horrible and they made it harder to think (and therefore pass his classes), they kicked him out. He fully intends to go back to MIT when he turns 18 and has control of his finances/scholarships/medication/therapy.

So that’s how the flock meets him. 

Mike ends up in a very prominent support role for the flock both in technological persuits (helping them track their parents, helping them get information from ITEX, trying to disable Max’s chip and failing multiple times until it becomes a matter of personal honour—), in helping the older members of the flock figure out how to deal with hallucinations/delusions (because he’s actually been to therapy, unlike them), and in being one of the only people who talks to them and helps them without any ulterior motive. He’s not trying to build a case against ITEX/The Institute of Higher Learning, he’s not double crossing them, he’s not plagued with guilt. He just genuinely wants to help them, and they genuinely want to help him, and that’s their first introduction to a healthy, non-codependent relationship.

My many disorganized notes on Michael Rivers:

He’s from specifically Morris Heights, Bronx, NYC.

He would say that his last name is actually Rivera, but his grandparents changed it to Rivers so it would sound more English, and his family has been in America for so long that he doesn’t know much about any Latino heritage he may or may not have. He identifies as African American, not Afro-Latino. He’s just bitter that his family felt the need to change their surname to have better opportunities in New York.

Nudge aggressively befriends him pretty much the moment she meets him, bullies him into teaching her how to code, and he very quickly adopts her as his pseudo-little-sister.

His delusions in the book seemed to involve government conspiracies, but as that’s the one delusion that is proved correct in the book, I’ve decided it would be best if his delusions and reality intersected a bit less if I don’t want to write him having a manic/paranoid episode in the second scene he has screen time. So his delusions are more based on “none of this is real”, “someone is recording everything I do and setting me up to fail” and “my ill-wishes on people can and will come true if I dwell on them too long.”. Government conspiracies are one of things he is skeptical about because he thinks most conspiracies are either “CIA admitted to this twenty years ago” or “antisemitism”.

He’s taking online free college classes that don’t actually give him any college credit, but they have good information and help him feel like he’s working towards something. He plans to double major in computer sciences and electrical engineering, minor in marine biology. He’s wanted to join NOAA since he was twelve and he is nothing if not stubborn.

There you go. These are my characters, now. I have custody.

#maximum ride on main #Maximum Ride rewrite

[catboy-syrup]

I know no one probably cares, but I made a madness Combat Oc, that probably makes no sense to the canon universe cause I’m mega cringe but whatever take her I really like how she came out. She was kinda made cause I’m writing a madness combat fanfic called “A field trip to Nevada [GONE WRONG!!!]”. And before you say anything, it’s not a crack fic what so-ever, some really fucked up shit happens in it, I just wanted to make it something funny to yaknow, Ease the tension one dark tones of the story. She’s not a main character but she does appear as an antagonist at some point, attempting to capture Hank so she can Torture and Kill him in the most painful way possible. Still deciding on what happens to her though.

Her name is Xena (name chosen by my best friend @redseaprincess ). She a MAG Agent, technically speaking.

What I mean by that is, she’s supposed to be the ‘first’ MAG grunt, in terms of it coming out successfully. She stands at about a towering 17 feet and 11 inches, meaning that she can most likely fit a normal sized Grunt within the palm of her crudely patchworked hand. Instead of working more as an agent though, she is instead suppose to be a caretaker, taking care of any new grunts produced by the A.A.H.W., as well as train them to work for the agency. Due to this, she has very mother like tendencies towards most grunts she meets, and even calls them her children, the only exceptions she has so far are The Auditor, of whom she somewhat fears but respects, Hank, who she’s personally out to rain hell on for “Killing too many of her children”, Tricky, who she considers a very close friend (reason unknown), and Jeb, who she feels would be demeaning to refer to as one of her ‘children.

That’s the most I have for her though, but here are some funfact about her that aren’t really important but are things about her I came up with:

She is a transwoman, The magnification process seemed to help somewhat in the process of transitioning, all except for the fact the her voice still sounds rather masculine.

To deal with her masculine sounding voice, she try to pull of a softer for high pitched voice when speaking. If works half the time.

She is also supposed to be Asexual Grey-Demiromantic, But that may change in the future cause I’m indecisive.

She’s actually rather large compared to most of the other MAG agents, with them being at her chest height at the most.

While she doesn’t like violence at all, she will resort to it to protect her children, as seen via. Wanting to kill Hank.

If you have a bad dream, just got to her and she’ll let you cuddle her happily.

She would be very physically affection in general, but she’s too afraid of hurtin the grunts, due to her massive size and how she see’s a lot of grunts as “Small and fragile”

Yes, she is meant to be chubby/chonky, I’m still practicing drawing chubby body types without going overboard give me a break.

She’s not blind, but her eyes would be considered more ‘terrifying’ than what you’d expect, at least in her opinion, and she doesn’t want to be terrifying, she wants to give off a motherly vibe. So she covers them to hide them, the only time she’s seen without the bandages is when she’s attacking Hank, in which she wants to look more menacing.

Not really a fact about current her but in her concept art, she was originally gonna have pink hair in a low pony, no bandages over her eyes (with her eyes being a greenish red), horns, no claws, a collar around her neck, no stitches around her body, and a white lacy dress. Dk how she went from “preppy mama” to “goth mama” but ok.

But uh yeah, I hope you like my super cringe Madness Combat Mary Sue Oc. I hope you like her cause I really do like how She came out.

#🍥🍁🍡syrup talks🍡🍁🍥 #🍥🍁🍡syrups creations corner🍡🍁🍥 #🍥🍁🍡Oc tag: Xena🍡🍁🍥 #madness combat #madness combat oc #art #I am very cringe #//scars// #//body horror// #//body stitches// #//ask to tag//

[shadow3142]

...fic where jess gets to go on an nss mission, actually

[For context, this takes place in an AU where Octavio manages to take over the city, and the NSBS is split up.]

Sector clear, moving on to site Delta,” Neo barked into her headset. Despite her affirmed safety, her eyes still started along the streets below.

“Copy, Agent 8,” Marie’s voice replied, which Jessie had learned to identify as ‘Agent 2’. “Check back in when you arrive.”

“Understood, over.”

As the octoling stood up from her crouched position, Jessie’s focus remained on the ground below, who’s eyes were also keeping tabs on their surroundings. She glared at every nook and cranny she could spot, double and triple checking for any unwanted peering eyes. Her ear twitched underneath its headset at her friend’s voice.

“How’re you holding up, commander?”

“You don’t have to call me that.” Jessie replied flatly.

“I know,” the octoling shrugged. “but it’s better that we don’t use real names out here, in case any unwanted ears are listening to us, y’know?”

The commander promptly rolled her eyes. “I guess.”

She promptly continued, pressing her original question. “Besides that, how’re you feeling so far? Do your legs hurt yet?

“I’m fine,” Jessie answered. “My nose is a little itchy from all the dust, but I’ll live.”

Neo smiled. “Well, it’s better than I expected! Usually the first few patrols don’t go over so well with the new guys.”

Jessie playfully quirked her brow. “Really?”

“Oh yeah!” She grinned. “I remember one of Vivian’s first patrols—we had to make a stop back at base and while we were there she collapsed on the couch, but she said she was fine, so Parker took a look at her and she had this huge fever! She got sent home and everything!”

Jessie smiled to herself softly, recalling hearing about the incident from Vivian’s roommate at the time. Her smile then quickly faded, as her brain then tripped over the fact that said roommate was currently nowhere to be found.

Come to think of it, both Jeb and Vivian were missing in action.

A bitter, sorrowful taste rose in the inkling's mouth at the thought. They weren’t the only people to have disappeared in the midst of Octavio’s takeover, and they certainly wouldn’t be the last. Several names and faces drifted across her mind, all of which were part of a missing persons list that Jessie had memorized. Names she was meant to find. Some were still considered MIA, others found alive, but most currently imprisoned, caught by the Octarian King’s forces. There were an unlucky few that met a more fateful demise, one of which she knew personally. A smile flashes in her mind’s eye—

No. She wasn’t going to think about him right now. She couldn’t.

A soft hand landed on her shoulder, and she tilted her head to see Neo’s empathetic stare. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” Jessie barked. “It’s fine. I know.” She paused to sigh, trying to clear her blurring vision. “We should get moving.”

“Right.”

She shouldered past her shorter companion and picked her way down from the rooftops and back into the streets below. She stared at the ground and her dusty boots as they tread along the concrete, trying to push the invading thoughts away before they could get firm ground in her mind. She would deal with this later, when she was by herself and had time and energy. When she had the time to think about her lost love’s face, his smile, his voice, everything that had happened.

That time, however, was not right now, she thought as Neo jumped down onto the concrete behind her. Right now, she has work to do. Too much work, but work, nonetheless.

#ask #melon-official #Splatoon #drabbles #OC: Jessie #OC: Neo #SDT AU #post

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 9

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art (so much Art...) 

Ironically (not ironic), I actually wrote part 10 before I came back and wrote this part. Let me say, this is a family heavy chapter. It’s a bit intense, but I hope you’ll be able to bear with me so we can get to the next one. Because homg... it’s worth it. Which you may see, based upon where I left this one off.

Read more of my ramblings on my MasterList above, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you’re there to support my unbridled insanity (#obsession). Check out all the artwork and related posts for these guys by clicking #Royal Flush. Like what you see? You can commission me for an art piece or story. Just shoot me a DM!

Thanks to everyone for all your support so far. Enjoy!

My spine itched to move, my fingers longed to twist and wring about themselves. But I sat still, letting the carriage bounce along around me. Staring out the window with as blank a face as I could muster. Externally, my features were fixed, my posture straight. Internally? I thought my heart might just burst. It beat hard and fast against my breast, slamming into my ribcage with a reckless abandon that belittled its delicacy. My stomach turned and flipped in knots. I was grateful for my darker complexion at that moment. It meant that nobody could quite tell how sick I was feeling. Save for those who already knew the various shades of my complexion, of course, and those who shared it.

 I chanced a glance at Grier, sitting across from me in the carriage. I wondered if he noticed the change; he hadn’t known me long. Though I supposed he had seen quite the fair variety of the shades my skin could become, based upon how much he seemed to enjoy getting me flustered. I pondered for a moment if I would recognize his skin if he flushed or paled. I wondered if he had already in the past, but I simply could not tell, as his particular shade of green was foreign enough to befuddle my senses. Would he turn red when embarrassed, as persons of a fairer complexion did? Or perhaps his color would darken, as mine did? I amused myself with the thought that perhaps he would turn an entirely different color. Purple would look quite fetching on him, I thought.

It was the first time we had really seen each other since the previous morning, and he was watching me. I could feel his eyes on me, for the entirety of the ride. More than once he had tried to pull me into a conversation, but when I would only give short, polite answers, he eventually gave up. Leaving us in the awkward silence we sat in now. I didn’t mind overly, staring out the window as the countryside passed by. Each mile ticking by like a year of my life; even though we moved much faster than any normal carriage. What should have taken us nearly two days now took less than half of one. We had left before the sun had crested the horizon, and expected to be at the Kingdom walls by noon at the latest. Grier assured me we were moving a little slower than normal, as we had a large contingency of goblins in tow. I wasn’t sure if I preferred the speed, or would have rather lingered in the journey. I dreaded this day more than I could ever hope to fully acknowledge. 

Perhaps the King had sensed that, and let me wallow rather than pressing too hard for my attention, despite the fact that I knew he wanted to. Despite the fact that our last interaction had been set in a completely different tone... His expressions ranged wild and free on his sharp features; from his own much more subdued anxiousness, to a soft anger at the corners of his eyes, then to a strange somberness which seemed to thicken his already prominent brow, then again to worry, followed by a distant, glazed over look… I worried what the court would think of this ‘radical’ display. Not to mention his choice of attire. A ruffled cream shirt tucked into high waisted black trousers with tiny golden embroidery. Topped off by a flowing coat of silken pink and blue squares that he wore draped across his shoulders and clasped at his neck with a gold chain rather than with his arms through the sleeves. Relatively conservative by his standards, I supposed, but outlandish by my Kingdom’s. I worked out a lump in my throat with a small swallow as the walls loomed over our heads.

We slowed as we entered the lower city in order to disperse the goblins to their duties as per our discussions and plans with the Masters. Something was off though. The people cowered and quivered in the shadows of their homes. Looking out with surprise and suspicion as Damjan ordered his contingent about in abrupt goblinese. I resisted the urge to sigh. This was not off to a great start… I noticed there seemed to be a prominent lack of city guards. And I doubted it was an oversight. A soft shout of alarm had me craning my neck about to look almost behind us. The goblins were beginning to set up a station, including a tent, where they could have the citizens line up to be treated or warded. But the magic utilized in the process had already set the citizens on edge, and they were beginning to gather in the streets in even larger numbers, like moths to a flame. Pouring out of their abodes and whispering in anxious, hushed tones. I gritted my teeth, glancing at Grier. His own brow was furrowed. Why had Valerianus not readied the people, as he had promised? Surely they would then know why the goblins were here. Surely an order would have already been established. This felt more like panic and confusion. One that threatened to tip over into aggression...

Another shout had my next decision made for me, and I moved for the door before I could second guess it. Grier started to say something, but the door was already open by the time he did, and I stepped out into the streets. A rippling murmur spread through the crowd as I emerged, straightening to my full height and looking around. I stiffened my spine, considering the gathered as I stepped around the horses at the front of the carriage. Very aware of at least a hundred sets of eyes following me.

“Excuse me, good sir.” I called out to one of the more well-dressed members (though by this I merely meant that his clothes had less holes and stains than his fellows). His eyes went wide with recognition, and him and the immediate surrounding members of the crowd quickly dropped into a bow. The rest of the gathered began to follow suit. I took heart in that, and walked over to him. “Rise, sir, I would speak with you if I may.”

“B-beggin’ yer pardon, yer Princeliness… sir…” Mumbled the man, straightening slightly. An unnatural hush had fallen over the crowd. “How can I be of service, my Lord?”

“I am looking for someone in charge.” I started, and I saw his eyes dart up to me in surprise. I almost sighed; yes, of course, I was someone in charge. “... An elder. Your elected official.” I clarified. “Someone to speak for you.”

“Ah… I supposin’ that would be me then, my Lord.” He replied, dipping his head low.

“Excellent.” I nodded to him. “May I have your name, good sir?”

He stammered a few times uselessly first. “I am Jeb, my Lord, if it be pleasin’ ya.”

“Mister Jeb,” I returned, then glanced about at the gathering, “Word was sent to us of the outbreak here in the lower city. Where are the sick being housed?”

Eyes widened at that, and a soft murmur whipped like a chilly breeze through the crowd. The townsman's eyes also stretched, then filled with a wariness, and I saw them flick over my shoulder. I could hear the soft click of boots on stone behind me and didn’t have to stretch my imagination far to figure out who approached. Jeb’s eyes flicked back to me anxiously.

“Ah… We are keepin’ the worst in the main temple, My Lord…”

I nodded. “Thank you, Mister Jeb. Would you be so kind as to escort the goblin Masters there to see to them?”

There was a stiff silence again, and I saw the man glance about nervously. He was rather young still, though certainly older than me. I could see lines into the corners of his face and flecks of silver in his greasy black hair. But his eyes were bright, and his back unbowed. I guessed he was perhaps at most a decade or two my senior.

“Beggin yer pardon, my Prince… sir…” He hesitated, glancing around, “... What are yer… Masters… to be doing with them?”

I heard Grier scoff lightly behind me and there was a sharp intake of breath from the gathered. “Why, using their magic to heal them, of course!” He exclaimed, coming to stand at my side. “Whatever else would we be doing??”

Another murmur passed through the crowd, louder this time. Jeb’s eyes shot from me to Grier, then back again. I turned, bowing slightly in deference to the goblin.

“Beggin’ yer pardon again, Master Goblin.. Sir,” He mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck, “But… there was rumor havin’ that our King planned to…” He dropped off, but the stiffening of his spine suggested to me a far less tasteful solution to the spread of the disease. Anger flashed through me at the understanding, though I hid it well. “We werena expectin’... ah… yerself…”

As he dropped off, obviously at a loss as to whom he was addressing, I bowed my head to Grier lightly again. “Allow me to present his Majesty, King Grier, of the goblin Kingdom.” I announced, loudly enough for the gathered to hear.

Jeb dropped to his knee, quick as a wink, which had the goblin starting slightly in astonishment. A gasp swept through the gathered now, and many followed the townsman’s lead and dropped to their knees as well. As was to be expected for a king’s presence. Murmurs and whispers were quickly filling the spaces between bodies, and only the choppy cough here and there broke the hiss.

Grier waved his hand, scoffing again. “Enough of that, there is no need.” He shot me a glance, as if irritated I had blown his cover. I dipped my head, but said nothing. Keeping my expression flat. He turned back to the townsman, who was slowly rising back to his feet nervously. “Sir Jeb, kindly assist my men in organizing, yes? We shall have a tent here for those able to walk to it.” He gestured to the one being set. “For those too unwell, they shall go with you or whomever you appoint to this temple you speak of.”

“Y-yes sir,... I mean, Yer Majesty… sir.” Jeb stammered, scrunching his hat between his hands and bowing excitedly. “We are most thankful, my Lords, most thankful!”

“Mister Jeb,” I put in, calling the man’s attention back to me, “Where are the city guards? Why have they left their posts?”

He shuffled anxiously. “... They wit’drew, my Lord. When the first of us fell sick…” He bowed his head, glancing out the corner of his eye warily. As if someone might be listening in. “The King recalled all of them… and closed the castle gates. To lessen the spread, they say.”

I stiffened, and my lips pursed into a tight line. Again, the rage rippled through me, but luckily Grier did not hesitate in light of this new information. He smiled widely, and Jeb twitched in surprise at the sight of his sharp teeth.

“Well, luckily we have no intention of doing the same,” He exclaimed, his voice light, “But I assure you, good sir, it will be addressed. After we heal the sick and ward everyone else for protection from the illness. But let us not delay a moment more in this, yes?”

The murmurs around us were quickly growing higher pitched, which I took as a positive. Excited and rushed, rather than low and angry. I glanced around the crowd as Jeb gestured a few people forward. Grier did the same, beckoning over some of the Masters to begin the organization. I lost track of their deliberations, looking beyond the roofs of the lower city to the high walls of the castle beyond. The feeling of dread returned to me, mixed with my anger, and despite the pristine white of the stone… the palace looked far darker than it should in the bright morning sunlight.

“Es’cuse me, Prince sir,” Came a small voice, and I turned, pulled abruptly from my ruminations. A small child stood before me, one thumb in their mouth, so covered in filth and grease I couldn’t quite tell if it was a boy or a girl. They were all skin and bones, and looked up at me with wide, bright green eyes. Our interaction was all but lost in the bustle as the humans and goblins finally began proper organization and preparation.

I dropped down to one knee before them, careful not to let my clean trousers touch the dirt road. But coming to their eye level. “May I help you, little one?” I asked softly.

Their eyes went wide with surprise, and they chewed on their thumb nervously. I guessed they must be about 6 or 7, though I supposed with malnutrition they could have been a fair bit older. It pained my heart to see them so, and I made a mental note to speak with whomever was in charge of the lower city now. Poverty, as evident before me was… unacceptable, to any degree.

“... Beggin’ yer pardon,” They mumbled around their thumb, glancing down at the road nervously, “But are ya Prince Niko… Nikostrant… Nikostrawsus… sir?”

I nodded curtly. “Yes, I am indeed.” I didn’t bother correcting their mispronunciation. My head tilted to the side slightly. “Is there something you need?”

“They be sayin’ yer the one who ended the war, sir…” They explained. “... They be sayin’ ya live with the goblins now, n’ we dun have ta fight them no mores, sir… is that true, sir?”

A few of the townspeople had slowed, and were gathering about us with quiet but curious stares. I nodded again, ignoring the eyes watching us.

“I suppose that is true. Though it was hardly-”

I started as the child launched themselves at me. Suddenly wrapping their grimy little arms as far around my neck as they would go. A loud wave of surprise rippled through the crowd, and I saw a hunched old woman rushing forward, looking panicked.

“Forgiveness, my Lord!” She cried, bowing repeatedly and reaching out as if to pry the child from my neck. “She’s but a babe still, she not be knowin’-”

I raised a hand, silencing her. Then used it to pat the little child’s back lightly. The crowd released a uniform breath of surprise and relief. A fresh murmur rippled through their ranks. The child leaned back after a moment, her eyes bright with awe, and bared spotty teeth at me in a delighted grin.

“Thank ye, my Prince.. Sir,” She told me, her voice soft and shy, “My pa’s home now, thanks to ya. I missed him much, and he be sayin’ yer why he’s back.”

A wave of something strange washed through me, and a quick glance around had me discovering the same mix of awe and gratefulness on all the gathered townspeople as the child held in volumes in her glittering eyes. The older women came forward a few steps, giving me a shy, polite smile. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth, turning back to the little girl. I reached out, tucking a strand of her messy hair behind one ear.

“You have nothing to thank me for, my Lady. It is your father who deserves the praise, for serving his Kingdom,” I assured her, “It was my duty and honor as your Prince to forge this Treaty for Peace.” I sensed hers weren’t the only ears listening intently, and increased my volume for the benefit of the other observers. “For too long have our two Kingdoms been at odds. But no more, I can promise you that. Now, we can work together. For the good of both humans and goblins alike.”

It felt overly formal, and very cliched. But a hearty murmur of excitement and approval spread through the gathered crowd like wildfire, and I even heard a few soft cheers. I patted the girl on the head once more, then slowly rose as she retreated back to the skirts of the older woman. The woman bowed to me deeply, as did the rest of the gathered people. I tucked my hands neatly in the small of my back, and turned as I heard Grier come up beside me. He grinned toothily up at me, and I felt my heart skip.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He teased lightly, glancing over at the little girl. She stared at him, eyes full of curiosity. My heart softened as I remembered another pair of very similar eyes, and I chanced a peek at the castle beyond again. “Apologies, my Lady, but if I might steal the Prince?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I know he is quite charming company, but I am afraid we are due at the palace. I would be sorely pressed if I arrived without him on my arm.”

The small child giggled, then nodded shyly. I saw the old woman considering the goblin. Not quite warily, but neither with the open eagerness of her ward. Still, it was a good start for a people who had spent the last decade in fear of the goblins. When she felt my eyes on her, she bowed her head. I nodded, then turned back to the girl.

“Send my gratitude to your father for his service, if you would, my Lady.” I told her. “And my sincerest welcome home. May his days be long and full of blessings.”

Grier led the way back to the carriage, amid a completely different atmosphere than that we had arrived in. The people cheered and waved as we climbed back in, and the King offered a small returning wave before closing the door behind us. He settled back into his seat, still grinning like a fool. I considered him as I sat on to my own padded bench, carefully brushing the dirt off my hands and knees and straightening my vest.

“Oh come now, you must be pleased,” He pressed, “You are being welcomed home a hero! Your people are grateful to you for what you have done!” I glanced at him again, and his grin grew. “Surely that must set your heart at ease.”

I turned my attention to the window, hearing the muffled sounds of the people as we passed them by. Damjan’s mount clopped past my view as he moved back to the front of the caravan to the castle. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth. Feeling far too numb to fully register anything but the dark looming shape of a place I had once called home. I watched the walls climb up, up, up as we drew ever closer.

“The welcome will not be quite so universal.” I told him dryly.

I saw his brow scrunch, and he followed my eyes to the castle. A scowl skittered across his lips, and he shifted in his seat. I could sense his hesitation; the preliminary to something more he wished to say. I waited for it quietly, my stomach still flipping in my abdomen.

“Nikostratus…” He started, and I stiffened slightly in anticipation, “... Whatever might happen… I want you to know something…”

When he dropped off, I steeled my nerve and turned to look at him. His scarlet eyes currently held the delicate duality of ferocity and gentile, and I was instantly thrown by the strength of their warmth. So lost in their depth, I almost forgot to jump as his hand came out and rested upon mine on my knee. Almost.

“... I want you to know how much I like you, and how happy you make me. Just the way you are...” He breathed. “And I am here not for the sake of this Treaty, nor, most especially, for that weasel you call a King… I am here for you. For you, and for no one else.”

I let his words filter slowly through my mind, turning each over. But I kept my mask carefully in place. I saw him searching it carefully, and knew he found nothing from the disappointment that filled his. He took up my hand, almost desperately, and I saw something like a plea in those scarlet eyes of his. But I winced as the pads of our fingers touched, and I saw the plea replaced by a flash of pain.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Your-...” I stopped myself, seeing him flinch at my words. I chewed my tongue for half a moment before continuing. “... King Grier... But you are a good person. A good King. You would not stand by and allow innocent people to suffer when you have the ability to help them.” My confidence wavered, and I dropped my eyes. The only break in my defenses I allowed. Staring at his hand wrapped around mine. “... It is an honorable trait.”

He moved his thumb across my knuckles, and I somehow stiffened even more. “Yes, perhaps you are right… But I would not be here, as I am now. This,” He gestured to the carriage and fanfare and armed guards surrounding us, “Is not for the sake of innocent, suffering people. This,” He curled his fingers between mine, giving a gentle squeeze, “... This is for you.”

For my suffering, I added silently. My lips tightened, and I swallowed the hurtful response that came to sit on my tongue. This was not for me. He was here because he had deigned to invite himself, and by extension, was forcing me to face things I had left buried for a long time. And had buried for good reason. I carefully pulled my hand from his, and glanced back out the window. We were approaching the main castle gate, and I couldn’t think for the pounding of my heart in my ears. But when I looked back at Grier… he was confused. He was hurt… and I felt a stab of guilt for having caused that… as I’m sure he did for having unintentionally caused me such pain, even though I didn’t show it as he did. I knew it had not been his intent. I would have sighed, had I breath in my lungs to spare. I flicked my eyes to the rocking floor beneath our feet, opening my mouth. It stayed that way for a moment, then I closed it again.

I saw him shift, heard the muffled sounds of the shouts and announcements outside. A pause, then the heavy sound of the gate opening. I was running out of time, and my heart alternated between ramming against my chest at an alarming rate and skidding to a dead stop for several breaths. I gritted my teeth, chiseling the stone into place on my features. Preparing myself. But Grier… I glanced at him again. Grier was not prepared. Nothing could prepare him for this, I knew. Not without a lifetime of… what I had endured. I ran my hands down my legs slowly. I still needed to try.

My head shook, forcing it clear. “... Th-this…” I closed my eyes, steadying my focus. If I couldn’t speak to Grier, how could I hope to face the court? I reasoned. I tried again. “... This will be… very hard.” I told him, and realized my voice sounded nearly as weak as I felt. “And…” I dropped off again, then forced as deep a breath as my constricted chest would allow. “And I will need to be… someone else for it.” I almost winced, but I had chiseled myself into stone too well, and there was not a molecule of flesh left to do so. “... I need to… Grier…” I almost whispered his name, as though afraid of speaking it. “... to protect myself…” I glanced up at him, and could almost hear the click as the last of my composure snapped into place. “To protect you.”

My determination to do so drained the last of emotion and individuality from me. Hid me behind stone and hardened clay and a wall so high I couldn’t see the tops. I prayed that my words would be enough to soothe the goblin for whatever might come next. Somewhere deep down, in a spot I buried for when it was safe again, I worried. I worried that I might not be able to break that wall down when this was all over… If it ever would be over... But for now, it was necessary. And I straightened, looking away from the King as the carriage came to a halt. I couldn’t bear to try and read his expression. The door opened, and we stepped out into the main courtyard…

...

We were ushered down the main hall, then to the smaller audience chamber. My rage flared at this; as a visiting royal, Grier should be greeted in the main throne room. It was a barely concealed insult that my father would meet with him here. But then, I reasoned, perhaps he could excuse it to the staunch traditionalist Court, as it was not by his invitation that the goblin was here.

I stayed a pace behind the King in question as we were announced and led into the chamber. As was my place in the eyes of the human court, not only as secondborn, but also as… dare I even think it in this context, but as Grier’s betrothed. I kept my eyes straight in front of me, my head high and my shoulders squared as we entered. I did not look about, and registered the room from my peripherals. A few of the more prominent members of Court lined the walls, with the center aisle clear straight to the small throne at the end of the room. Valerianus stood to one side, and Gareth, to my dismay, to the other (though further back out of respect for my brother). I noticed my sister amid the pillars towards the back, and saw her face light up at the sight of me. I was grateful for once that Gareth caught her shoulder as she moved to pass him, keeping her in place. Despite his reasoning for doing so and the disdain I could almost feel wafting off him in waves. Despite my own contempt to have to see him once more. As if my return was not difficult enough without his disapproving eyes. Yet I was grateful, if only for a breath. I was not sure I could manage my sister at that moment, with my nerves taut and close to breaking. I could not allow myself to crumble, for any reason. And now my breath hitched at the site I had long dreaded. Sitting there, his back stiff, a scowl barely hidden in his stoney mask.

My father was not a small man. Not by any means. He was at least my height, though I had always thought him taller, with equally broad shoulders. My brother had inherited his square jaw, blonde hair, and fair skin, though my father’s complexion was more worn with his nearing 70 years. The edges were cracked and frayed, and his once proud cheeks had become shallow and gaunt. I decided he looked like parchment then, and about as lifeless, staring at us with hazel brown eyes (the mirror of my own) concealing the contempt I knew he must feel. His hand was forced here; he had not invited Grier to the palace, nor asked his aid. But he could neither deny it, now that it had been given. A lifetime of experience told me he was furious, though an outsider looking at him might only see another stone statue. 

I wondered what the room must look like to the goblin King. An audience hall of statues, staring at him. The one bright, and colorful life amid a garden of stone. I would imagine it was unnerving, knowing what I did of the goblin court and general lifestyle. But to his credit, Grier didn’t flinch. Despite his diminutive height, he strode proudly into the room, head high, sharp featured face fierce. His head turned as he took in the room, as a predator surveys the herd, and one slender brow cocked. I saw a few skilled nobles twitch as his scarlet eyes ran over them. Damjan and a few more armed guards stood behind us, and the tension in the room was palpable. Grier stopped before the throne, considering my father with an unabashed appraisal.

I saw my father’s eyes flick up and down my companion’s attire, saw the slightest twitch of disapproval at the corner of his mouth. I felt a familiar anger rolling about in my gut, but carefully tempered it. Neither spoke for a long moment, nor did anyone else. It was not our place. There were two Kings to be reckoned with here, and no one would dare step out of line. The goblin guard had been well briefed in the need for their silence prior to our arrival, and they too held still under scrutiny. My spine itched, but I stood still, keeping my gaze trained forward at some distant place.

“Welcome to my home, King Goblin.” Came the greeting from my father finally, breaking the silence. The anger in my gut burned hotter at his refusal to use Grier’s name. I had no doubt he hadn’t even bothered to remember it, if he had ever cared to hear it. His voice was flat, and thin. He did not speak loudly, for he was King. If he was speaking, all others should be silent. There was no doubt in any listeners mind of that, just from his enunciation of that single line. 

Grier dipped his head politely, and I saw his lips twitch. “I thank you for your hospitality, King Human.”

I would have laughed under different circumstances, as the Court members all visibly flinched at the insulting address. Even though it was no more than a mirror of their own King’s. My father seemed unmoved, though he brought up one hand slightly, resting the fingers by his chin. Valerianus’ eyes flicked from him to Grier, and I saw the gears moving slowly behind them. I wondered briefly what kind of welcome he had found upon his return from requesting our aid. I couldn’t imagine it had been very pleasant. My father flicked his fingers at him, answering the unspoken request.

“Your Grace,” He stepped forward, bowing slightly to Grier, “May I present, His Majesty, King Tiburtius, of Geriveria.” Grier inclined his head, and I knew the introduction of my father’s name was not lost on him. I could almost picture the twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips, though with my gaze fixed ahead I couldn’t quite make out the majority of his face. “And, Your Majesty,” The whole court drew in a sharp breath as Valerianus turned, bowing to my father, “Might I present to you, King Grier, of the Goblin Kingdom.”

Oh, my father would not be happy. I found I was surprised to see my brother act so boldly. Introducing both Kings with equal respect and grace. He had handled it nearly flawlessly, from my perspective, and I was pleased that now my father would not have the excuse to forget Grier’s name in any future address. It was a bold statement, but also a great sign of respect for the goblin King from the Crown Prince.

Again, my father was the first to break the silence. “Prince Valerianus tells me you have come to lend your… magic to our people.” He spat the word with as much disdain as was allotted for by our paltry excuse for emotions.

Grier inclined his head again. “Indeed. I received word of the terrible sickness plaguing the citizens of our sister kingdom,” He intoned, his voice, in contrast to my father’s, illustrious and loud, “And of course could not sit idly by.” His head cocked to the side. “I do hope I have not overstepped our alliance?”

The Court shifted restlessly, though almost imperceptibly. My father ran his finger across his dry lips. “... Of course, your aid is always welcome. We are most grateful.” The words were forced by politeness and honor from Grier’s bold and direct question, but I could sense his rage with having to have spoken them at all.

“I am glad to hear. I might have been led to think otherwise, considering the manner in which we were greeted.” Grier continued, his point barely concealed. By court standards, he had brusquely called out my father for his lack of fanfare and preparation.

“My greatest apologies,” My father returned without pause, no stranger to such plays, though his eyes narrowed by a barely perceptible hair, “We were given very little advance notice of your intent.”

“Ah, yes.” The goblin replied, nodding in bemusement. “But of course. I suppose you would request at least a week’s notice prior to hosting a royal visit.” His brow cocked. “I’m sure your people would have kindly waited to die until the day was more suitable for you.”

There was a sharp intake of breath that hissed through the room, and the tension grew. I heard the rustling of armor as the goblins shifted behind us in response. I felt a chill run down my spine as my father’s eyes turned to me, his gaze colder than ice.

“Perhaps it was foolish of me to expect Nikostratus to inform you of proper human etiquette. I will forgive you such small slights of course.” He replied, as if graciously ignoring the insults Grier casually levied at him was quite magnanimous of him. “After all, based upon the current state of him, I can see he has forgotten himself. Hardly a worthy representative of our people.” I tried not to twitch beneath his scrutiny, and did not move from my gaze locked straight ahead. My father’s eyes flicked to my brother. “Though it seems we are in short supply of that recently.”

It was not lost on me that he neglected to use my title. I saw the uncomfortable shift of the Court, the eyes flicking about almost nervously. This was, after all, as public a display of humiliation as one could get. I remained steadfast, unwavering. I had not been addressed, and so could not speak out.

“On the contrary, good King.” Mused Grier, his returning tone icy. “It is only by the nature of your sons that I am here at all.” His scarlet eyes considered my father harshly, and without pretense. “Should it not be for them, and Prince Nikostratus specifically, I would have been more than happy to raze your paltry kingdom to the ground.”

The equivalent of an uproar overtook the room, the members of court shifting more visibly. And even a few gasps and hushed whispers spreading through their ranks. My father stood, moving to try and tower over Grier. I knew this tactic. I had faced it many times. If his words failed him, he would try to intimidate by his sheer size alone. And then he would use his considerable courtly experience to completely destroy his opponent’s reputation and authority... By any means. I saw the goblin’s eyes harden, flashing with contempt. It broke everything; every training, every etiquette and protocol I had ever had forcibly ingrained into me. But I knew what came next, and I would not allow it to befall the goblin.

I stepped forward. Lining myself up with Grier. Shoulder to shoulder. An absolute breach in decorum and honor. I was a Prince, and he a King. It was the greatest disrespect, but less to Grier, and more to my father. As it forced him to address not only the goblin, but myself. For we now stood level to each other. He would have to reprimand me. He would have to acknowledge me, as he had all but refused to do since we had entered. I saw my father’s eyes flash. And he turned his focus on me. I prepared myself for the onslaught I knew was coming.

“Stand down, Prince Nikostratus,” He told me, his voice cold, spitting out the title as if it were venom on his tongue, “And remember your place.”

As he had addressed me, I could turn my head to him. Meeting his gaze. Then I bowed slightly. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” I intoned, my voice flat. But I did not step back.

“I shall not.” He all but growled. “You are-”

“My betrothed.” Grier interrupted, and again, a gasp ripped through the hall. I saw Gareth make a quick exit with Morgana out of the corner of my eye, disgust evident on his features. He had to practically drag her out. “And as such, stands my equal. A position above yours, I would think. Considering the size of my Kingdom compared to yours.” Grier continued without pause. That rocked my father back, and his unbalanced attention switched back to the goblin. “Would you levy such an insult against me as to deny my partner, and your own son, the respect and authority he is entitled to?”

His eyes flashed, but was met with matching tenacity in the goblin King’s eyes. He lost himself for a moment, and I saw his mask slip. “You would-”

“I am a man and a King of my word,” He interrupted again, and I knew he was not about to let go of the advantage he now held, “I have made a Treaty, through the union of our two houses. A contract that benefits both our Kingdoms, in no small part due to Prince Nikostratus tireless efforts to make and keep the peace.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps, Your Majesty, you have forgotten your own place.”

There was silence then, that cut into my eardrums like fire. I didn’t move, standing frozen in place at Grier’s side. My father’s mouth closed tight, and I saw him working to sort out the proper answer. It took him too long though, and I could see the weight of time dragging on him. I knew there was no right answer. Not one that he would ever allow himself to speak at least. But I also knew Grier was right. By all intents and purposes, my father had insulted him, and dishonored him. The goblin would be well within his rights to take his army and raze the human kingdom to the ground. No human with half a brain would be able to argue against his justification. Beyond that, I was certain my father was already well aware he was at a complete disadvantage should he decide to affirm the insult, for not only was the goblin army larger and stronger than our forces, but they were currently well entrenched into the city. And the castle. He could not afford to allow the insult to stand, and Grier had forced him to address it. As no human would ever have dared. Finally, he straightened, a cold storm settling across his stone-faced features.

Slowly, he tucked his hands behind his back. And I didn’t like the glint in his eyes. “Indubitably, King Grier. Allow me to offer a balm to this perceived slight.” He gestured one of the more prominent members of the court forward, who bowed repeatedly and anxiously. “Lord Tipp shall give you a proper tour of the castle, as our esteemed guest.” I stiffened, sensing his hand before he had even played it. His gaze flicked to me, still icy cold. “Since Prince Nikostratus is your equal, as you say, and already familiar with the castle, I am certain he shall be acceptable as a representative in your stead.”

Grier paused, considering this. To his credit, he did not flinch, but I knew my father had now forced his own hand. The goblin’s gaze flicked to me, and I could just see it out the corner of my eye. He would have to abandon me, or else retract his previous statement. Anything else would now be perceived as an insult from him. As my father’s attention turned back to the goblin, I allowed my eyes to flick to Grier at their corners. He watched me for a delayed moment, then gave a nod.

“Of course, King Tiburtius.” He returned, voice back to its previous airy lightness. “I would be pleased to see more of your home. And Prince Nikostratus will be more than able to handle our affairs as I do.” His eyebrow twitched up, and he glanced back at me. “I do hope he won’t mind indulging me so. Though I was certain he would wish to give the tour personally, as he is intimately familiar with the castle himself.”

I dipped my head politely. It was a paltry excuse, but absolutely viable, should I choose to take it. I realized he was asking me what I wanted, as best he could given the circumstances. Asking if I wanted him to stay, or if he should leave. It would not be a perfect cover, not an ideal excuse. It wouldn’t leave the best impression of us. But it was an option, and my heart skittered. Debating taking it. Feeling weak at the knees at the thought of being left on my own...

“I would not deny you your curiosity, Your Majesty,” I told him, slowly straightening and sealing my fate, “I am certain Lord Tipp will be an adequate guide. If it pleases you.”

“Good.” My father intoned before Grier could speak further. “Then it is settled.” He turned back to the court at large. “Lord Tipp will be able to show you the extent of our hospitality, which we have woefully neglected thus far. While I will speak with my sons. Alone.”

The court quickly and efficiently cleared behind Grier and his new host. I saw him shoot me a glance over his shoulder as my father turned and made his way back to his seat. I could give him nothing to soothe his conscience, but watched quietly as he and his small contingent of guards left. The sound of the door scraping shut sounded almost as sickening to my ears as a spine snapping. I turned slowly back to the throne as my father settled in it.

There was a long moment of silence that threatened to crush my nerve, but I held it resolutely in my breast alongside my pounding heart. Praying it was strong enough to endure whatever I was about to face.

“How long has it been, Nikostratus?” Came the flat, cold tones of my father finally. “A week? Two? Less than a month, I am certain.”

“Just over two weeks, Your Majesty.” I replied hollowly.

“And yet you stand before me, practically a savage.” He shook his head, running his hand across his chin. “Mannerless. Mud on your trousers and boots. I believe your top button of your shirt is even undone. Did you walk here?” He raised a hand, not allowing me a breath to answer. “And then you would disrespect me, in my own court? Seek to embarrass me in front of that… thing.”

I tightened my jaw, resisting the urge to lash out at him. “I did as you asked, Your Majesty. I brokered a peace between our Kingdoms. A fair and-”

“You have brokered a sham!” He snapped, though his cold voice barely raised at all. “This Treaty you sent? I have never seen anything so absolutely ridiculous in my life.” He scoffed. “A marriage?? Between a Prince and a King?? You must be joking.”

“Your Majesty, in goblin culture-”

“I do not care about goblin culture, you insolent cur.” He cut me off again, standing, glaring down at me, squaring his shoulders and all but spitting as he spoke. I instantly bowed my head, recoiling a step. “How dare you use the authority I granted you to follow your own lecherous pursuits.”

My gut roiled at his words, and I almost blanched. Instead, I secured my façade into harder shape, and cast my eyes to the ground. I could hear his disgust as plain as if he had spelled it out for me, and clenched my hands tightly behind my back to keep them from quivering.

“Your Majesty, the Treaty that Prince Nikostratus-” Valerianus began, and I was a little surprised at his intrusion.

“And you!” Our father spun on him, and he too recoiled. “I would expect this of your treacherous brother, but you? Going behind my back. Directly disobeying my orders. Inviting those wretched beasts into our Kingdom.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “The Gods have punished me with such disobedient and disgraceful sons.”

He settled back into his chair. We stayed with our heads bowed, staring at the ground. As we had many times before. My throat burned, and I blinked fervently. Our father let out a soft breath, not quite a sigh, rubbing at his chin with one hand. I almost winced again at the sound, as if he had moved to slap me.

“You, Nikostratus, will return with that… creature. As your last service to me, you will have him withdraw his fellows from our Kingdom. You hopefully have at least some honor left to complete that simple task.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And then I will never hear from you again.”

“The Treaty-”

“I will arm no men against him, for now, so long as he keeps his filth from my borders. And you will count that as a blessing.” He cut in. “But you will not ask for my aid. Nor anything else from me.” He ran his hand over his chin again. “Perhaps the one good to have come of this was saving the arrangement of Morgana’s betrothal to that creature. I have begun negotiations with King Namier of Valthaven, whose army is twice the size of ours, in exchange for her hand.”

My blood ran cold, rushing like ice through my veins. “King Namier is nearly 40. He already-”

“ENOUGH!” I was rocked back by the volume and force of his voice. It sent me spinning back into my childhood, and I resisted the urge to wince, my resolve crumbling. “The sole reason I don’t have your head on a pike and your entrails in my dungeon right now is because that ludicrous monster you have disgracefully attached yourself to has somehow amassed a force powerful enough to subdue our armed forces. And then Valerianus was fool enough to allow them into our city. But make no mistake,” He stood again, stepping down to tower over me, “You are dead to me, Nikostratus.” I felt a numbness spread through me at his words, and my jaw clenched. “You have already dishonored and disgraced me, now leave with what little dignity you have left. And take that filth with you. Immediately!”

“Father, the people of the lower city-”

“The people be damned!” He snapped, spinning back on my brother, who instantly bowed his head again in the face of his quiet, seething rage. “I would see every one of them dead before I allow such abhorrent, lecherous beasts to remain in my kingdom. Now, get out of my sight! Both of you!”

Something snapped in me, as the numbness started to spread through my chest. Something I could not name. Some force or power that curled around me and flamed the hot rage in my gut... And I did not move. I remained rooted in place, instead raising my head and gritting my teeth. Valerianus has started to shift as if to leave, his brow slightly furrowed. I squared my shoulders and spread my stance, and my brother paused at the sight of me. After a moment, our father seemed to realize neither of us had exited, and turned back on us, his brow becoming like thunder behind his mask.

“Leave.” He commanded. 

I straightened my back. “I will not.”

His eyes shot wide, breaking the fraying edges of his composure. “You have no authority-”

“As you have disowned me as your son,” I cut him off abruptly, my voice firm, “Then I stand before you, not as a Prince of your human court, but as future King of the goblin. And voice of their will.”

“You-”

“And as such,” I continued, ignoring him, “I am here to inform you that we will not be withdrawing from the Kingdom until every last citizen is treated or warded from this plague.” My voice was growing in volume with each word, each one more confident than the last. “Furthermore, should you attempt to act against any the terms of the Treaty, including refusal to admit the goblin kind into this Kingdom, we would be well within our rights to forcibly remove you from the throne and take it for ourselves.”

His mouth flapped uselessly, and I saw red growing in the apples of his pale cheeks. “... How… How dare-”

“The way I see it, Your Majesty, you have two choices,” I interrupted him again, my voice nearly quivering with my anger, but no less commanding, “You can accept this fact with some semblance of grace and dignity intact. Or,” I silenced his sputtering at my words again firmly, “You can attempt to publicly resist our efforts, and find instead the full might and force of the goblins dragging you kicking and screaming from your throne.”

I waited a breath, watching his eyes all but bulge from his skull. I could see Valerianus looking only slightly less perturbed than our father at the corners of my vision. Though his mask was much more securely fastened into place. But I ignored him other than this observation, focusing my fury on the man standing before me. As the King tried and failed to find a response, his face becoming more red by the minute, I glared down my nose at him. My shoulders squared, my confidence unrelenting.

When no reply seemed forthcoming, I broke the stony features of my face to cock one eyebrow up in a way that would have made Grier quite proud. “I will assume you choose the first option.” I mused. “But please do let me know if you decide on the latter. I would very much like to see it.”

With that, and a final farewell, I spun on heel with practiced military grace, and marched out of the room.

I walked with an almost giddy, light step. My breath shallow and huffy with adrenaline. I could hardly believe I had just done that. It felt like the memory of someone else, and my pulse raced with the excitement still coursing through me. But… by the gods did it feel good. I was out onto the raised walkway before the main courtyard when the quick click of boots alerted me to my pursuer. I turned, not sure who I was expecting to be there. And found it certainly wasn’t anyone I would have guessed.

“Prince Nikostratus,” My brother breathed, slowing before me, “A word, if you would be so kind.”

I quickly and carefully fixed my mask back into place, turning to face him fully. My heart sputtered in my chest, and I resisted the urge to swallow the lump that suddenly leapt into my throat. Had I forgotten something? Had I made some miscalculation? Perhaps this was a ploy, and attempt to delay me before I could inform the goblins of what had just happened. To distract me while the guard worked to mobilize. I wondered briefly if my father had sent him. My mind raced with the possibilities.

“You see what he is.” I blurted before I could stop myself. “... You see what he’s become.”

My brother hesitated, considering me for a moment, and the brusque nature of my words. Then, slowly, he nodded. “... Yes… I do.”

I straightened, composing myself again. “Then you understand why what I did was necessary, Prince Valerianus.”

Another pause, followed by another small, slow nod. “That is why I am here, Your Highness.” He hesitated again, then straightened his own spine and squared his shoulders properly. “I wanted to thank you.”

I stared at him, a little dumbfounded. I was grateful momentarily for the lifetime of perfecting the mask, so that even in the face of this surprise, it held. My silence, of course, was evidence enough to it. And he gestured towards the walkway, taking a step forward. Uncertain what else to do, I fell into step beside him, and we slowly walked the parapet.

“This is just one in a long line of transgressions I have unfortunately been party to.” He told me softly, and I saw him glance briefly to the side. “I cannot say much more, as you know as well as I that the castle has eyes and ears of its own. But…” He paused, dropping off. “You have done our people yet another selfless act, Prince Nikostratus. Even though you would have been completely justified in taking any other course of action.”

“I can do no less, Your Highness,” I replied, my tone back to the formal emotionless drone, “I may no longer be a Prince of this Kingdom in the eyes of its King, but they are still my people.” My voice became hard. “I will not allow them to suffer for his stubbornness and pride.”

“Another great service,” He replied, “For which I would like to offer you one in return.”

He stopped, turning to face me. I did the same, surprised but hiding it well. My brother looked me up and down, and I searched the edges of his mask with my trained perception. And yet I still couldn’t quite read what he intended.

“You have sacrificed everything,” He continued, his voice still soft, “Your home. Your future. Your…” I saw him hesitate, blinking slowly. I tried to wrestle with his meaning, but found myself wholly unable to discern it. “... I would like to correct this wrong. It was not your burden to take. We can find another path to peace with the goblins, Prince Nikostratus.”

It dawned on me slowly, and I shook my head. “You would have Morgana-” I started, my voice tight.

“If you think I am even capable of such a thought, then you do not know me at all.” He cut me off curtly. Then he paused. “... I am not our father, Nikostratus... And I have every wish to avoid that fate for myself.” He glanced down, belying his mask for a breath, then met my gaze firmly. “... I will find us another path to peace. You need not sacrifice yourself. I will do everything in my power to free you from your bonds. It is not too late. There has been no… ceremony.”

I looked at him, astonished. We stood in silence for a long moment, staring at each other… He didn’t know... He thought I was… I swallowed hard, realizing I would have to say more than I had ever been comfortable saying. A feat hard enough with someone familiar with the concept. Nearly impossible with one for whom the concept likely didn’t even exist. I tried to pick the right words. To come up with a response that would be as delicate as possible to his sensibilities. I clenched my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

“I have given my word, Prince Valerianus.” I told him softly, but firmly. “I will not break it.” I started to open my mouth to say more, then slowly closed it. Hesitating. My heart racing in my breast. “... I am an adult. And have entered into this contract by my own free will, for the good of our Kingdom.” I stopped, hesitating again.

He considered me for a moment. Trying as I had to listen to the unspoken words between us. “Would it be… presumptuous of me to assume that perhaps this is… erm…” He shuffled, glancing down at our feet, a slight pink tinge rising to his cheeks. “... Not quite the same… ah... sacrifice I had initially thought, Your Highness?”

I felt my face flush, and quickly cleared my throat. Staring down at our feet as well. I stammered for a second, then managed to compose myself once more. “I-I...It would be…” I heaved a sigh, shaking my head slightly, “It would be a greater... sacrifice, on my part… t-to return things to how they were…”

I heard him swallow loudly. “... I see.”

I hesitated, then nodded resolutely. “I have found in this… Treaty… a freedom, Your Highness.” I slowly raised my gaze to him. “One I had never expected to find before, nor had ever hoped to pursue...” I swallowed nervously, and couldn’t resist a tiny shuffle of my feet. “The sacrifice, for me, is no different than any other arranged marriage.”

Valerianus studied my face again, and I hoped my flush wasn’t far too evident. But he nodded slowly. Then bowed his head. “Then I will honor your word as well, Prince Nikostratus.”

I bowed in return, and as we both straightened, I felt a strange weight lift from my shoulders. Only to be replaced by another.

“I would beg permission to ask another boon, Your Highness,” I told him as we stood face to face once more, “If you would grant it in light of my services.”

“Ask, Prince Nikostratus,” He replied, “And I will grant it if it is in my power.”

“... Let me take Morgana with me.” My brother froze at that, and I saw him glance quickly out the corners of his eyes again. I quickly rushed on. “You heard him. You know what he is planning for her…. She’s not safe here.”

Valerianus was quiet for a long moment, but he had been unable to mask the flash of pain at my words. We had many differences, my brother and I. But Morgana was not one of them. I knew he cared for her, in his own way. Their connection was not as powerful as mine and hers, yet his earlier words had given me hope that perhaps he might just wish for her the same future I did. Or at least one not so… repulsive. One with a chance of happiness.

I waited with my stomach flipping in knots. Waited with my breath caught in my throat and all my hopes on the line. I couldn’t even bear to think what would happen if he refused my request. And what lengths I would go to in order to assure he didn’t…

Finally, he nodded, slowly. “You are right… The Princess is not safe here. Not while our father…” He stopped, dropping off. Then nodded again. “It would be best if she was kept away from here. For a time, at least.”

I nearly collapsed with relief. With Valerianus’ aid, it could possibly be days until anyone of import noticed the Princess was missing. With his authority, all but the highest levels of court would be forced to look the other way. And even then, only our father had power above him. He gestured for us to continue our walk, and I fell into step beside him once more.

“You must let us ward you, Your Highness,” I told him as we walked, the tops of the pillars of the courtyard coming into view as we rounded the corner and came to the top of the stairs, “For the sake of our Kingdom’s future, I would beg you to consider you own safety.”

Valerianus nodded. “I will trust your judgement, on the matter, Prince Nikostratus.” He replied. “You have shown it to be quite sound.”

I could see Grier in the courtyard below, alone, and as soon as my eyes fell on him, my heart skipped several beats. I felt a warmth spreading through my chest, a longing unlike anything I had ever known before, and it left me in a haze of confusion with its unfamiliarity. I wanted nothing more to do with this palace I used to call home; I had never understood that word until now… And it wasn’t until I had returned that I realized it never had been a home to me. After everything that I had just endured, I wanted only to go down to the goblin King and leave. Preferably to never see this place again, and sooner rather than later. I had no strength for anything else.

“... Forgive me, Prince Nikostratus,” I nearly jumped at Valerianus’ voice, having momentarily forgotten that he was there, “... I thought at first it was a very elaborate ploy from the goblins. A spell, perhaps. Or a great strength of will on your part, for the sake of Morgana and our people.” I turned to face him properly, carefully squaring my shoulders with my back straight. “But I see now it’s more than that. You honestly... care for him. Don’t you?”

I faltered at his words, and blinked stupidly for a moment. Based upon the twitch at the corners of his lips, I assumed my mask had slipped momentarily. I quickly corrected the slight, leveling myself back into stone.

“My interest is wholly irrelevant for this contract. The arrangement of this marriage is for the sake of our Kingdom and people, Prince Valerianus,” I told him stiffly, careful to keep my voice flat, “For a much needed peace. I was beholden by my duty to our Kingdom to form this alliance, and we have already seen the benefits of the Treaty.”

“Of course, I do not doubt that in the least.” He agreed calmly, and took one elegant step forward to peer down at the courtyard as I had. “How fortunate then, Your Highness, that you have already grown quite fond of the man who will be your husband.” If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought his tone was teasing. My lips worked uselessly at the air for a moment, and the corners of his twitched again as my face flushed once more. “... I am happy for you.” He turned back to me. “Truly, brother, I am. He seems to be a good man. And an honorable King. I would be fortunate indeed to someday find myself to be half the King he is.”

It was only the lifetime of discipline that kept the shock from registering on my face. I didn’t answer him, uncertain how to. I couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to me so candidly, if he ever had. By the time I was old enough to remember our interactions, Valerianus was already a sullen teenager. Weighted with the responsibility of the crown. Hardly the mixture for a warm and affectionate older brother, especially in our family. Our eyes met for a long, quiet moment. And whatever tension lingered between us dissipated. I had no words to give him; nothing seemed appropriate in that moment. But they were unneeded. I felt my lips purse, and gave him a small nod. Which he returned, hands still clasped formally behind his back.

“I shall have the maid gather some things for the Princess quickly and bring them to your carriage, Prince Nikostratus.” He told me, then gave a shallow bow before spinning on heel to march off. “I shall task you with the nigh impossible feat of finding her.”

I nearly groaned, instead nodding to his retreating figure. Morgana could be any number of places by now. I knew the most likely, but that would take time. And time might not be something we had much of, if our father caught wind of our plans. Grier would help me, I declared to myself silently. And his men. We would have to work quickly, but for the first time in a long time, I had hope that things would turn out alright.

I spun back to descend the stairs to the courtyard, and was at the second ledge when a familiar sound came to my ears. It flooded my body with relief as I recognized my sister’s voice. But her words had me freezing in place.

“Excuse me…umm, sir goblin.”

A momentary pause, followed by a polite if hesitant; “Yes, My Lady?”

“I beg your pardon, but you are the King, yes?”

My heart skipped like a smooth stone across still waters. I eased down the last few steps, walking lightly to stand at the corner. Peering around it. Grier stood with his back to me, and Morgana before him with her hands on her hips. She wasn’t much shorter than him, but still had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. I started to round the corner, eager to tell both of them the good news and pleased they were in the same place. But curiosity stilled my feet, something about the determination set into her youthful face, and I lingered momentarily. Not quite hidden… that wouldn’t be very Princely. But they would have to look particularly hard to make me out behind the marble pillars...

“That I am.” I could hear the tiny smile in Grier’s voice. “... Can I be of service?”

“I demand an audience then, Your Majesty.” I almost groaned at her abruptness, and studied her little face for a moment. Intelligent and fierce…. I couldn’t deny it warmed my heart.

Grier hesitated again, but then offered her a small bow. “But of course, Princess. I am at your service… Shall we sit?”

...

UPDATE: Part Ten HERE

#Royal Flush #goblin #goblin king #goblin x human #goblin lover #goblin royalty #monster marriage #arranged marriage #slow burn #angst #mlm #male x male #monster lover #monster husband #monster boyfriend #terato #exophilia #monster royalty

[izzyspussy]

Where, besides Tumblr, can people find you doing fannish things? (Obviously only mention sites and usernames you actually want to be found at. Don’t expose your secret identities on my account.)

What other names have you gone by on these platforms, including Tumblr, if any?

When did you join the IT fandom? And what got you into fandom, to begin with?

What are your favorite ships, or characters, if any, and why? What do they mean to you?

In what ways do you participate in fandom? (ex. Posting memes, reblogging/commenting on content, writing fanfic, making fanart, creating fanmixes, etc.)

Do you have any in-fandom inspirations? Other members of the community that drive you? (And if you have the time/energy, in what ways do they inspire you?)

Name and link some of your favorite works, please!

Do you have any works of your own that you feel particularly proud of, or wish more people would’ve consumed? Please provide links if possible.

Have you ever participated in a fannish event (ie. IT Week, a fic Big Bang) or applied to be a part of a fanzine? If so, which ones, and can you please link them?

Without any form of bashing or lashing out, what is something you feel this fandom is missing?

I'm calicofiction everywhere, I don't have any secret identities lol. For fannish stuff specifically I really only use this account and AO3.

I've had sooooo many tumblr urls adjkjcs. The only other non-referential name I had was penlex, though.

I saw ITch1 in theaters (incidentally I also lived by a river and had bright orange hair at the time, which was.......... An Experience), but I didn't really enter The Fandom™ until setting ITch2a a few months ago. I didn't... know this would happen to me. (It was only a clown, how did it end up like this. it was only a clown...)

I started in fandom by talking to my older sister about how I thought Ginny Weasley should have been in Slytherin, and she hooked me up with ye olden fan sites.

The one character that I can always come back to is Bruce Wayne, but the character I identify with the most of all time is Taako from The Adventure Zone: Balance. I've even considered writing to Justin to tell him how deeply Taako affected me and made me kind of stop feeling like my personality was an unfortunate consequence of my circumstances lmfao.

I'm a Jack of all Trades (*jeb bush voice* please laugh). I do fic, moodboards/aesthetics, traditional art, mixes/playlists, headcanons/shitposts... Mostly fic though.

I'm loving Milo @clownjizz's kink content right now, Kels @lethimrunsonia is a sweetheart and one of my best friends, (other fandoms now), Nathaniel @transbucky and Jess @sequencefairy keep me motivated to make Good Stuff (theirs highly recommended if you like MCU, SPN, BFU), and Rachel @dykerory keeps me from taking It All too seriously lmao (DCTV, Star Wars).

I have 500+ Bookmarks on AO3! I also reblog fics I like here under the tag /fic-rec, and I make a new recommendation every Thursday on my /interlude post.

I'm on mobile so I don't wanna do a lot of linking and formatting BUT you can find all my fic on my AO3 or in my /fic tag. I've done a few fic themed answers that highlight some particular works.

I participated in kink memes and gift exchanges during my LiveJournal days. I'm sorry to say those pages are lost to time.

I don't necessarily feel like the IT fandom is missing anything... but I do think fandom in general, including this one, adheres way too much to normative ideals when attempting to represent queer relationships. Not only is there so often an uncomfortable replication of heterosexual gender roles in every rating level, but there is also the prevalence of cohabitation, legal marriage, and kids as the ultimate happy ending for a couple. It's just plain not the case, and I long to see more relationships like the ones I participate in and witness as a queer person (and especially as a queer man) in real life represented in fanfic that purports itself to be About Us.

#jack chats #writing process

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

For the fandom asks, 2, 3, 5, 7, 12, 17, 19

2. what fandoms were apart of that you aren’t any longer? The only one that comes to mind is the Once Upon a Time fandom. The toxicity was the most insane I've ever experienced.

3. characters you would marry in an instant? oh goodness so many to list between shows and books 😂 Ron Stoppable, Hatter (Syfy's Alice), Sherlock (BBC; no judging lol), Dean Winchester, Fox Mulder, Matthew Clairmont, Jacob Black (Twilight), Jeb Holt (Splintered book series), Liam Stewart (The Darkest Mind book series), Dexter Jones (This Lullaby by Sarah Dessen), Will Herondale (The Infernal Devices book series), Captain Frederick Wentworth (Persuasion), Thomas Cresswell (Stalking Jack the Ripper book series.) Well, that got out of hand 😬

5. what is your favorite overused trope? I'm not even sure what tropes are overused. *proceeds to Google overused tropes* ahhhh okay, so I actually enjoy love triangles, especially when done well.

7. name a character you wouldn’t mind naming someone after. There are a few, but if I could only pick one, I'd either go with Belle (Beauty and the Beast) or Tessa (The Infernal Devices.)

12. if you could change one ending to a book/show/game/etc, what would you change about it? The only right answer is Supernatural's final episode. I would change it to where Dean also got to live a full life and, of course, I would've loved to have seen everyone reunited in that final scene.

17. are there any tropes you wished were used less often? Idk if it's considered a trope, but I dislike one dimensional characters who serve no purpose other than to serve the main character, whether it be romantic or platonic or antagonistic. I like rounded out characters and learning sometimes meaningless facts about them lol it just makes them more realistic.

19. if you could be a part of any story, which story would you want to tag along in? This one is so difficult 😫 in hindsight, this is probably a boring choice compared to all the other fantastical stories I could've chosen, but I think it would be fun to tag along with Kim and Ron and everyone else. This choice was made with nostalgia and my deepest desire to have friends I can actually hang out with in person.

Thanks!

Fandom Asks

#asks #deardaaery

[ayankun]

Ok, if you haven’t already (I say this to be polite, I know you haven’t) go put your eyes on this episode synopsis first.  Why?  Because it’s a good time.  But mostly because I want you to be tangentially familiar with certain topics so I can better explain what happened to my brain while watching this one.

oh, right, this post is a synopsis of the VR Troopers episode 2x13 “Kaitlin Through the Looking Glass” btw

4

3

2

1

WE

ARE

V

R

Now that you’ve got this far, here’s some housekeeping before we start:

I watched this show sporadically as a kid and have very fond memories of it “being better than Power Rangers” but really didn’t know anything about it at the time.  I am watching it as an adult partly due to nostalgia but mostly because I genuinely enjoy it.  Not necessarily because of the reasons they intended, but, you know.

As an adult, with a different understanding of the world than when I was seven, I willfully misconstrue the main characters as being in a polyamorous relationship.  OT3 baybee

On a similar tangent, Ryan “Trooper TRANSform” Steele is obviously trans.  (transgent??)

Hell, maybe they all are.  The more the merrier amirite.

They all call the Professor “Puhfessor,” so I will, too.

Still with me?  Let’s begin.

(first up, though, the title sequence is over a minute long, when really they only needed like, maybe 15 seconds to get the point across.  there is also a ton of footage used that portrays events that never occur and also the song is not catchy enough to warrant any of this and I love it)

So in Ryan’s flashback intro, he muses about how, as a kid, he felt the need to prove himself.  He expresses this to his dad by asking when he’ll get a black belt, and his dad is a good supportive dad who tells him:

“It’s not the belt that’s important, son,”

Ryan’s dad says trans rights.

Ryan’s VO goes on to say "My dad taught me that it’s not outward appearances that really count, and that was an important lesson that would come in handy time and time again.”

Ryan really loves memories of his dad.

Which I think is a sweet lesson to learn when you’re young and other youngs (and olds) are going to give you crap about how you look, but it’s also hilariously phrased considering how superficial the concept of “outward appearances” is to this episode.

So we jump into things down at the ... Voice Underground Daily idk what the newspaper is called, I’m just trying to read the sign on the wall tbh.  We’re at Kaitlin’s place of business, and Woody (I think his name is Woody LOLOL how many episodes have I seen) shows Kaitlin this front page article which appears to have the headline:

ZIKTOR DEFEATED AT CITY HALL -- NO TOXIC WASTE DUMPING AT CROSS WORLD PARK

Ok, a couple of things.

Kaitlin and Percy are just ... chilling out at the copy machine like they’re friends and this is where the cool kids hang out.

Which can’t possibly be true because the actual cool kids are there in the back, just reading newspapers like Actual Cool Kids do.

They’re an indie paper, right?  How can they afford to print headlines that verbose?  ... Or full color glossy, for that matter

THEY ACCIDENTALLY PLAYED THIS LIKE THEY WERE EXCITED ABOUT THE NEWS ITSELF AND NOT ABOUT KAITLIN DOING A GOOD JOB ON AN IMPORTANT FRONT PAGE PIECE

Environmentalism was No Joke in kids’ media in the 90s.  I specifically remember learning the word “toxic” from a Power Rangers episode where Billy tested the lake water.  I literally had to look it up.

and they say you can’t learn nuffink from tv

Anyway, part of the excitement is that this article is the follow up to an expose of Ziktor, also authored by Kaitlin, which inspired the city officials to veto his waste-dumping proposal.  So we’re proud of Kaitlin for doing a good job at journalism and for protecting the world!

JB does what JB does best and attempts to arrange a date.

The line is, “Hey, let’s celebrate!  With lunch!  At Hamburger Hutch” but I guess someone at Netflix got lazy for a second.

I forgot to mention, in my HC he’s our token ace (as my favorites often are), so he tends to go overboard with the romance.  You don’t have to compensate for anything, JB!

Kaitlin appreciates the gesture.

But then Woody interjects and I let my adult sense of humor get the better of me...

come on, the man’s name is Woody I can’t be the only one with my mind in the gutter can I

Also the line is “I don’t want you boys filling up my star reporter” so what am I supposed to thINK

--WITH JUNK FOOD.  Dodged an FCC bullet there.

So I just now gave it 2 seconds thought and the discrepancies with the subtitles probably have something to do with the expectation that children would be watching this show and can’t read that fast.  BOY DO I NOT FIT THE DEMOGRAPHIC

Ok well.

Where Woody’s going with this is that he wants to impose a health shake on Kaitlin for godknowswhy.  But it’s all good because as he todders off to get started on what will surely be a monstrosity, we get this ADORABLE moment where Kaitlin tries to get JB to come to her rescue.

She just runs up and grabs him.  I’m all a-flutter.

But JB is of no help.  Instead, he calls dibs on her fries.

There’s a weird, under-baked joke going on here that seems to be rooted in the idea that if one is dieting then others benefit from this self-sacrifice by gleefully picking up the slack?  Anyway Kaitlin’s not on a diet?  This vitamin shake angle literally came out of nowhere?  Is against her will???

Just one burger, please.  Protein style :<

et tu, Jeb??

Anyway, this weird exchange just passes the time to get Woody all set up.  He turns on the blender and THE WHOLE WORLD STARTS SHAKING. 

Percy runs over to be the hero, demanding Woody turn the blender off, while everyone else just rumbles around looking distraught and not practicing anything resembling safe earthquake response.  Percy manages to get a hold of the blender, lifting it off the counter, and -- you guessed it -- the lid comes off and purreed-carrot-baby-food-looking goop gets all over his nerdy white button up.

The shaking stops.  Percy’s very proud of himself (and disdainful of the others who didn’t come to his heroic conclusion).  End scene.

I’ll be real.  At this juncture, literally thought that the blender HAD caused a natural disaster, and it was just a wacky 90s gag that went on for far too long.

More on this story as it develops.  We’re moving on.

How many cities in the world do you think have ominous buildings in them that aren’t secret headquarters for supervillains?

Our good buddy Karl Ziktor is reading -- wait for it -- Kaitlin’s article.  It has a headline so long they had to dedicate the full front page for it.  I’m pretty sure that’s not how newspapers are commonly formatted.

That is literally just a couple of newspaper clippings taped to a big piece of paper.

Oh he’s mad.  He tells Juliet all about his evil plan for revenge, which is to “steal her virtual image and create a second Kaitlin Starr [that serves him]”.

Same, Juliet.

Off that yikes, a henchwoman comes in to appraise Ziktor of the status of phase one, which is underway.  A so-called Stingbot is “in the basement of the Underground Voice” so that’s what the paper’s name is, anyway.

Anyway so Stingbot was the one responsible for the earlier tremors.  And, yeah, I mean I know they were new cobbling stories together from old footage, but What The Hell do “sting” and “earthquake” and “outward appearances” have in common?

And that is how a Stingbot do.

My question is partially answered, in that Stingbot’s earthquakes are a distraction so that some skugs can plant the “Virtual Mirror Transmitter” on Kaitlin, which is the nefarious device that will create the aforementioned Kaitlin-2.  Bold of him to assume that just because Kaitlin’s a woman that she 1) carries a purse 2) stores a mini pink mirror in the purse 3) will look at herself in the mirror unprovoked.

It’s such a wildly twentieth-century concept.  Here in good ol’ 2020, I, for one, have not looked in a mirror in months.

Ugh more gross than this use of outdated stereotypes is this weird tongue thing Ziktor does while almost literally salivating after his upcoming revenge.  You’ll have to go see it for yourself, I’m not going to watch it again to cap it.

(This guy gives his 200% to this role, though.  What a legend. RIP Gardner Baldwin)

So Ziktor blue-skadoos into his virtual stronghold and gets an update from his generals.  There’s this new guy that I’ve already also forgotten the name, and since he has a human face, there’s a lot of awkward cuts between him and his Japanese counterpart in the footage that’s already ten years old at the time.  It probably looked great.  I was an adult before I found out that Rita Repulsa was the original Japanese actress in the original dubbed Japanese footage.

Anyway, he looks great.

I think I read that for season 2 they had access to and/or recreated the costumes used in/matching the source material, so there’s a noticeable uptick in cool-looking sets with American actors wearing cool-looking costumes, like this one.

You said it.

That’s about it for this scene, but before we go to commercials, Grimlord says this nonsense:  “I will destroy Kaitlin Starr with the one weapon she cannot defend against -- herself.”

Confirmed: Kaitlin is a deadlier weapon than, say, a homing missile.  (she can defend herself from those)

Ok we’re back at the Underground Voice and there’s still an earthquake going on.  Also, and let me tell you this with a large amount of regret of my life-choices, I’ve been sitting here for just about two hours and we are only five minutes into the episode (and that includes the minute long opening credits.)

Let’s roll!

JB gets off the phone with who knows who, having learned that there’s no earthquake registering anywhere, it’s a localized mysterious incident.  Ryan recommends they clear the building “just to be safe.”  My boy, why wasn’t that everyone’s first thought?  Are they really just standing around waiting to be told?  We had drills for this for a reason!

(Actually, I’m not sure where Cross World City is located.  Maybe they’re not on a fault line and do not actually do drills)

In any case, there’s a brief PSA where Woody wants to collect his valuables to take with him, and everyone has to inform him that that’s ill-advised behavior in an evacuation scenario.

He responds in classic Woody nonsense, by putting on a captain’s hat and insisting he’ll go down with his ship.  AND OUR BOY JB SAYS

He’s still thinking about that date.

LOOK.  There’s no rule that says asexuals can’t make dirty jokes.  Because we can and do.  Let me have this.

So our heroes herd everyone out of the building and then stay behind to call the Puhfessor.  Just as they get him on the computer, the earthquake stops. 

It’s not all good news, though.  The Puhfessor taps into some kind of impossible CC feed and they watch Stingbot undermining the structural integrity of the building.  Stingbot, by the way, has one of those creepy child laughs that is insane.  It’s so good.

Ryan decides to check out the basement himself while Kaitlin and JB keep everyone else outside.  He finds some creepy janitors down there, and they head on up like creeps normal janitors.

Maybe they were just hotboxing down there.

Stingbot’s also in the basement!  Who knows what he was doing down there, because

Murder hornet, colorized, 2020

Which is a weird thing to say until you remember the slight, throwaway “yummy!” he says earlier while drilling into the building.  I had forgotten it in the 40 seconds it took for me to get from that moment to here.

Ryan insults Stingbot’s outward appearance, which is odd because I thought he learned that lesson as a kid.  Either way, it’s time to

WE ARE V R

Only to spend about half a second on recycled footage just to have Stingbot go “lol, later loser.”  Because those perfectly normal janitors are upstairs swapping Kaitlin’s purse mirror with the evil thing.

Can you imagine trying to pull a stunt like this today?

Outside, things have calmed down enough that JB thinks Ryan’s got it under control.  He’s gonna go back in “to see if the building’s safe enough to reenter.”  I know he knows it’s not a real earthquake, but also I don’t think I’d trust a non-professional to assess my office’s structural integrity.

Kaitlin’s going to join him, which causes Percy to pipe up, Pavlovianly ... just to chicken out and stay put.  GOOD JOB PERCY.  USING YOUR HEAD FOR ONCE I SEE.

(kids, don’t volunteer to check that a building is safe after an incident where its safety may be in question.  it is not cowardly to leave it to Someone Who Knows What They’re Doing)

So JB and Kaitlin come back in to find the Normal Janitors shadily stealing a floppy disk from Kaitlin’s desk.  (kids, a floppy disk is a real object that looks a lot like the “save” icon)   BUT OF COURSE THEY’RE SKUGS SO JB AND KAITLIN HAVE TO THROW DOWN.

Let’s just say there’s a good thing they have an earthquake to blame all this property damage on.

JB’s a little snippy.

All he wanted was to go to lunch with his girlfriend and boyfriend.

The gold skugs do their fusion dance thing and turn into the oni-mask skug variant, which I’m assuming is a constraint of these later episodes where they used footage from a show that did not have the gold ones in.

FLIRTY BATTLEFIELD BANTER UGH I SHIP IT

Once that’s handled, we find out what Ryan’s been up to in the basement by himself this whole time.

Um.  I’m not touching that one with a 10-foot ... wait.

Ohhhh

Ryan heads back up and swaps notes with JB and Kaitlin.  Stingbot said that its work was done, so what exactly was it trying to accomplish?  Ryan then runs from there outside to check on everyone else.

Kaitlin then decides she needs to freshen up, which is something I don’t recall her ever needing or wanting to do after any other natural disaster/fight portrayed on this show.

But look how cute they are with their mutual post-fight shoulder-pat.  JB even gives her this cute little look as she darts off.  He is smitten.

He is smote.

Kaitlin gets her mirror out of her purse, as planned, and checks herself out.  You know.  Like how woman do.

She gets it.

This is it!  Grimlord’s chance to strike!  He will have his revenge, Juliet, just you wait!

for great justice

We are treated to a brief bit of delightful 80s Japanese sci-fi, all flashing lights and chonky beep boop buttons.  It works!  A tastefully gendered laser light shoots out of Kaitlin’s mirror and STEALS HER FACE OFF HER FACE

FACE/OFF

The experience seems highly unpleasant, but she’s mostly ok...

But wait, who’s this ...

It’s not really the Mirror Universe unless someone gets a goatee.

Kaitlin’s freaked out, but we don’t have time to see her process what it was that just happened.  More beep boop 80s lights (seizure warning much), and the virtual replica Kaitlin is 3D printed in Grimlord’s lair.

lol he’s got a play date

So this Kaitlin is the same exact person as real Kaitlin, with one major difference.

So this got dark, right?  This is different from that time they cloned Ryan, because that was just a DNA clone man baby with evil sunglasses; this is actually Kaitlin, the person, just with some programming differences, who’s gonna go back out there and hurt her boys herself.

Needless to say, Grimlord is delighted.

Check out that disgruntled wall snake, tho.  “I thought I was your lovely child”

Now Grimlord’s plan is to send Kaitlin into the wild with a device called the “fissicator” which is a “sTUn ray!!” (you have to hear him say it, it’s so good) as well as a thing that will reprogram the Trooper’s “contact disk.”

I didn’t mention it earlier, but that’s the disk that the janitors skugs were trying to steal, and it was also how Kaitlin called up the Puhfessor on her work computer.  I’m pretty sure we’ve never seen it before and we never see it again.  It’s Not A Thing.

So Kaitlin goes to Tao’s, where Ryan’s just chilling there by himself.  I guess everyone was okay after the earthquake, then.  (It is unclear how much time has passed)  Maybe it’s been hundreds of years, because Ryan acts like he’s not sure who she is.

Wait, hold on.  I did NOT pay close enough attention the first time, but -- either it’s much later the same day and/or they missed a scene.  They’re still wearing the same clothes ... and Ryan says he thought she was heading (back?) to the paper ... and then she says ....

Ryan.exe has stopped executing

Wait so WHAT.  What workout.  We have not been to Tao’s yet this episode.  ???

It’s really just a ruse to get Ryan to fight her, though.  But also.  Why need ruse?  Evil clone?  Just attack tho, right?

But also no NO.  DONT attack.  We’ve already seen JB be beat up by his evil clone boyfriend.  It’s rough.  (spoiler alert, this one’s gonna be rough, too)

So Ryan tries to let her down easy by saying he doesn’t have time -- and I can’t tell with this video quality, but I don’t think he’s wearing a watch but he does the “look at wrist” technique and it’s p good.

Kaitlin-2 refuses to be let down easy.

Them’s fightin words

Ryan ends up splayed out on the desk but seriously, now is not the time.

He rightfully wants to know what’s up, but she keeps taunting him to fight her.  She takes the first shot, which he dodges and blocks before disengaging.  Remember, kids, just because somebody picks a fight with you doesn’t mean you don’t have any other options!

She won’t stop coming for him, though, so he gets her arms pinned so he can try talking her down again. 

This technique backfires.

no more mr nice kaitlin

So in the other clone episode, this scene was staged in a room full of people, and even though JB was blindsided, he and Ryan are ostensibly evenly matched.  It wasn’t nice for JB, but at least someone was there to break up the fight.

This time though, Ryan’s been gently if firmly trying to diffuse a confusing situation where someone without his training is behaving irrationally and is going to get both of them hurt.  So far his attempts to de-escalate have failed, and there is no deus ex intervention incoming.

AND THEN she goes and plays the superpowers card on him.  Black belt or no, the whole point of having the Trooper alter ego is that they come with amazingly OP combat powers capable of defeating all manner of monsters.

And Kaitlin, a very very very dear close friend has just walked up out of nowhere and dropped a nuke on him.

Okay, so she throws him over a table, it’s the principle of the thing.

This overkill maneuver knocks him out cold.  She lifts Ryan’s Trooper communicator (so he can’t call for help when he comes to -- omg this is so chilling) and then uses the fissicator to call Grimlord for further instructions.

Gotta catch ‘em all

New Kaitlin, who dis?

So he now wants her to steal the disk, reprogram the disk, and use the reprogrammed disk to break all the Trooper computer stuff.  She reads his order back like

Close enough, I guess.

She gleefully moves on to her next task, leaving a helpless Ryan struggling and failing to regain consciousness.  :<<<<<<<

At the paper, real Kaitlin gets a message from JB on her little Trooper video phone and secretly Trooper TRANSforms out of there from inside the darkroom.  This was the point where I realized they had different ones!  Hers and JB’s are red and white, while Ryan’s (that just got stole) is red/blue.

Also, you can just see under all those crayons, but that’s the “contact disk” that Kaitlin-2 is coming for.  (how many crayons does a professional journalist need, anyhow?)

So there’s a joke in there were Percy sees Kaitlin go into the darkroom and then Kaitlin-2 walks in, and then also when he checks the darkroom, it’s empty.

Oh, so that means Kaitlin-2 successfully steals the contact disk, btw.

Back at Tao’s, Ryan has woken up and some how his backpack has, like, crawled down to see if he’s okay?  Which is helpful because that’s how he is able to quickly identify that on top of assault, there’s been a robbery.

I hope she doesn’t delete my save files

And this was the moment (right now, doing the caps) that I realized the little phones are called VRVTs!

But seriously, imagine being knocked out cold by a loved one, with no reason, no hint at an explanation, and not only has she left you for dead, she’s taken your phone so you can’t call for help.  He has no idea that she’s an evil clone!!!!  This is a real tragedy of a thing.  A gutting betrayal.

It looks like Ryan has his own contact disk, tho?  And he uses this on Tao’s PC to call up the Puhfessor.

spelled it rong

Just as a note, this subtitle comes up WAY too soon, so for a couple of frames it just looks like some kind of meme.  A++

 Ryan starts to relate his traumatic experience to the Puhfessor, but luckily he’s cut off with the good news that his “sensors” somehow correctly identify Ryan’s assailant as Kaitlin’s virtual double.

geez, you guys, look at how Ryan deflates hearing this.  I mean, it’s not great that he was probably concussed, but it’s a relief that his world still makes some kind of sense.

poor bb

Also, you can’t tell as much here, but there’s a really subtle punch in as the moment progresses, bringing us closer and making the moment more intimate as he grapples with this new information.  There’s a lot of dumb half-assed stuff in this show, but I gotta call attention to the stuff that is excellent for any era.

Also it’s so efficient from a time-management perspective.  Just look at the opening shot, which was a medium type establishing shot so you can picture Ryan in the space, but the PC’s right there for both the viewer and Ryan to reach.  Then we slowly zoom in, which serves double duty in that it provides the appropriate emotional impact, and at the end we’re on a nice close up of Ryan as he jumps into action.  Three shots with just one set up (and probably done in one take, with room to splice the PC shots in)!  I’m very pleased with this.

Down to brass tacks

The Puhfessor ominously tells him that they have their own troubles and we go straight from there into some source footage of them fighting some skugs and what I think is General Ivar.

After about three seconds of that, we cut back to the lab, where Ryan busts in on Kaitlin-2 just as she’s hacking up a storm.

im in ur base, haxxoring ur mainframez

Kaitlin-2 shows him the contact disk, which is now “encoded with a self-destruct program” that she’s going to use to overheat the lab’s power core and destroy like all the things.  Ryan is noticeably concerned, but Kaitlin-2 points the fissicator at him to get him to stay in line.

Ok ok ok ok so here’s where we get to the point where, when I watched this today, I fully turned away from whatever it was I was doing to go wwwwwwwwwwwwtf

Kaitlin-2 has a disk that will blow up the lab -- and there’s nothing Ryan can do to stop her--

huh

bruh what are you

bro srsly what

is happening

You’re trying to tell me that Ryan “killed his own clone with no ragrets” Steele is trying to make an emotional appeal to this clone in order to undermine her sense of purpose?

...did she ever think that Grimlord cared about her?  As a person?  I feel like that wasn’t in the contract when she was 3D printed with the sole purpose of serving her dark master, and she shouldn’t have any emotional reaction to this assumed expectation being challenged.

And .... did they ... did they read my other post?  The one about wanting to keep the clone around ..... ??????

what is happening right now

Ryan leans hard into this “embrace your humanity” tactic and has the Puhfessor show them a live feed of JB and Kaitlin’s fight.

“...She sure could use our help...”

wait for it

When she balks, he gives her one last over the top inspirational blurb that despite of whatever it was Grimlord did to her, she’s still the same (good) person as Kaitlin.

It starts to sink it.

(also just check out these sweet eyelines, you can tell that the screen they’re watching is slightly to his left,  sort of behind her to her right, which makes sense!)

He keeps at it.

Looks like it’s working?  She starts to reconsider her whole existence ...

...considers Kaitlin’s ...

... moment of truth ...

And it works!

BUT IT DOESN’T STOP THERE YOU GUYS

“NOW GO HELP HER” RYAN COMMANDS

AND

OMG

CLONE KAITLIN-2 IS ALL

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess, I mean, obviously Ryan’s evil clone did that whole thing where he stole Ryan’s virtualizer and started flying the Skybase, so if this Kaitlin is the same as the other Kaitlin then obviously she’d be able to do this, too.

But like!  She was the main villain until like four seconds ago, somebody who did Ryan dirty.  Just another of Grimlord’s nefarious tools of warfare.  And Ryan, a man who’s killed his own clone before, who took a beating from her only hours prior, is suddenly the bigger man who is capable of seeing past all that in order to turn an agent of his enemy.  And to go do his job, no less!

This has never happened before.  This show’s always been kill or be killed.  There’s a good reason for this, and we’ll get to that in one moment.

But I like to think Ryan learned from his mistake.  He didn’t even try to to connect to his evil clone.  He just got beat up and went back for revenge.  (I’m looking back at my caps for that episode, and it seems it was the Puhfessor’s idea to kill the evil clone, and maybe there was a MacGuffin reason why it was The Only Way, I forget.)  Maybe he thought long and hard about the repercussions of his actions -- maybe he thought that, had he been able to better understand his evil self, that maybe that shadow version of him would have liked to have been given the benefit of the doubt?

At the end of the day, I can think whatever I want.  But why we never get any other reformed villains until now is only because

It’s almost like they recycled footage from a different show(s) and just had to roll with the punches.

So then JB and the Kaitlins fight some skugs and there’s a big explosion and a lot of jumping.  JB and Kaitlin get caught up with the SparkNotes version of who tf extra Kaitlin is and then they fight Stingbot, teleport to a quarry, you know, all the everyday stuff.

Back at the lab, Ryan’s feverishly trying to undo Kaitlin-2′s handiwork and keep the core from melting down.  Can he do i-- well yes.  He can and he does do it.  Then he TROOPER TRANSFORMs away and ... flies off to fight ... some jets ... I guess? 

pew pew pew

In the quarry, JB is going toe to toe with Stingbot.  Stingbot has some cute little wasp drones that electrocute everyone.  They’re having a good time out there.

it’s super effective

Ryan shoots some more jets ... JB dislodges his wasp and slices one off a Kaitlin with a sword ... the third one just .. pops off on its own *shrug*

Stingbot shoots some acid (oh he did that before, too, in the basement, but it was irrelevant) which evaporates a boulder ... Kaitlin goes back to her battlefield quips but they’re not nearly as flirty as the last time ...

JB gets out his lightsaber and GOES TO TOWN on the remaining bad guys.  That thing makes the BEST wvungwvungwvung sounds, just btw.

And that’s it!

Almost.

Grimlord spends his obligatory seven seconds ruing the day he ever met a VR Trooper and swearing revenge.

ya it’s called being a parent

Turns out he still hopes that the two Kaitlins will destroy each other!  Very optimistic guy, our Grimlord.

Back at ol’ HQ, JB and the Kaitlins stroll in and explain the sitch to Jeb.  Kaitlin-2 seems fully reformed!

yee gurrl

But oh-hoho, does the Puhfessor HATE clones.

buzzkill, emphasis on kill

So it turns out, and I quote, “two Kaitlins cannot exist in the same reality.”  I guess technically she’s not a clone, but a virtual double from the mirrorverse/VR land, so that kind of makes some sort of sense.  This dimension is too small for the both of you!

The stakes are that if the two Kaitlins are not rejoined within 24 hours, both Kaitlins will byte the dust. 

Oh no!!

This was the point where, having a pretty good internal clock as well as a refined sense of story structure, I literally smirked at the screen thinking “soooooooo what.  you have like two minutes left and you’re gonna fix it in time for the credits.  overdramatic stakes are overdramatic.”

AND

THEN

THE

KICKER

OH-HOHO

I WAS

SO WRONG

SAME THO?1

:D

#VR Troopers #V.R. Troopers #episode synopsis #guys #I know this isn't the trendiest thing to do #but I love talking about things I love #and I love television #and nobody watches any of the things I watch #so I have to ramble here #don't expect me to stop any time soon #might as well unfollow now #also this literally took like 6 hours #what am I doing with my life

[thewildwaffle]

Abduction - Chapter 19

This may be the longest chapter I’ve written so far. The next shouldn’t take long to get out either, I’ve already got a good start on it. I’ve been reading this out loud to several of my friends, and I’ve definitely noticed things change in my writing, or in my characters, or I’ve noticed plot points I started to set up and then never followed up on. I’ve said it before, this is the first draft. As always, if you have any feedback, comments, or any notes to leave, please feel free - I live for that stuff! And added bonus, it helps motivate me to write more!

Stay lovely, friends!

Also, the reason Mike decided to learn morse code is the same reason I learned it. The story Mike learned in school about the POW who used Morse Code to send a message is true and you can learn more about Jeremiah Denton here

***

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The Burnti medics hadn’t been gentle about fixing Jebannuck up. His wounds were cleaned and dressed, yes, and everything seemed to be on the mend, but the process of getting to that point had been rough. And slow. He’d made plenty of trips to infirmaries before (and probably would make more in the future if he lived through this whole ordeal). Honestly, he was surprised at the level of care he had received at all.

He didn't fight them when he was put in this cell. There would have been no sense in that really. Plus, he wouldn't have had the strength or energy to fight back even if it had been logical to do so. Whatever Commander Rozar or anyone else in charge around here had planned, he’d just have to be sure he was ready.

He hoped the humans were okay. It seemed to him that they would be. They were civilians. That's what he kept telling himself. They are civilians, he'd correct himself. They were and still are.

What troubled him really was Commander Rozar’s interest in them. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. Mike and Wenona, as well-intentioned as they were did not do themselves any favors by defending him. He had been in no danger, or at least, no immediate danger. They just worried about him. They’d jumped in to “save” him- their “friend.” Was that a normal human thing to do? Sure, he’d saved others before, crew members, teammates, civilians, employers, and the like. There’d been a reason to do so. Orders. Duty. Responsibility. He had no doubt he would do whatever it took to save another Sefra like himself, but the humans? It still puzzled him how they had seemed to adopt him into their pack bonding tendencies. It was something he never, never thought he’d be a part of.

If he was completely honest with himself, his heart felt a little warm at the idea. He chuckled to himself inwardly. Funny how close proximity and a few life-threatening experiences could bring him so close to aliens he had been trying to avoid before.

Jeb leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. Maybe that was why he’d been so well taken care of, all things considered. Whatever Rozar was planning, he needed the humans cooperation. It’d be easier to get on their good side if he was kept alive- as a show of faith at best. Or as ransom at worst.

What was the Burnti Empire planning? They wanted an alliance with Earth and were willing to destroy the planet’s relationship with the Galactic Confederation to do so. But then what? Jebannuck knew more about humans than most on his crew, they were resourceful, durable, and for the most part, glent-tic crazy. He shuddered to think about what all the Burnti Empire could accomplish with the Earthlings as allies.

He shifted. His back slid across the smooth metallic wall behind him. The pain was gone. From what he could tell, there was hardly any scarring after the medics had done their job. He could sit comfortably in his cell, or get up and move around freely. Or as freely as one could in a glorified prison cell.

It was a relief that the Burnti Empire seemed to follow a high code of treatment for their prisoners. that's great and all, but he was still a prisoner. So were Mike and Wenona. Simmo? He wasn’t really sure of her current standing. She'd be fine though. She'd find a way to sway their current predicament to her advantage. That was the way Montauk always seemed to work. Whatever her plans were, Jebannuck was sure he could rule her out of any strategies he'd have to make to get out of here. Thank goodness.

The guard somewhere outside his cell was relieved of duty. Like clockwork.

But the new guard wasn’t alone. A familiar blue scaly alien entered and stood in front of his door. Jeb recognized it as the one in the back of the throne room when they’d met Commander Rozar.

At first, it didn’t say anything, just tapped and scrolled through a datapad it held in its short stubby fingers. Jebannuck watched it silently, growing more annoyed with its presence with each passing moortik.

“If you’re here to intimidate me to give up any information, you might as well go back now and tell your superiors you failed.”

His visitor didn’t respond at first. When she did, she didn’t even look up at him.

“I think not. Besides, the information I’m after is hardly Galactic Confederation classifieds.” She made one last swipe on the datapad and looked up at him like she was calling for the next person in line at the galactic vehicle registration department. “Name?”

Jebannuck frowned. What the frewan were they playing at?

He must have been taking too long because his interrogator, a Blue Donkun if he wasn’t mistaken, tilted her head back and sighed loudly, “Name. Your name, please. I haven’t got all day.”

Whatever she was playing at, he wasn’t going to make it easy. “Tokkannib Sefra.” That was actually the name of his grandfather. He wouldn’t mind his grandson using it though, he’d died shortly after Jeb had entered basic training.

The Donkun’s face didn’t move, but it seemed to emanate a sense of tired frustration. “No. It’s Jebannuck Sefra, correct?”

Jeb leaned his head back against the wall behind him and growled. “Tell me something, is it common Burnti practice to ask questions you already know the answer to?” He lightly rubbed at his jawline, “Seems like a pretty inefficient work ethic.”

The Donkun’s short, wide snout twitched. “My orders. Your name. Jebannuck Sefra. Correct or no?”

Jeb dropped his hand back down into his lap and studied the Donkun. She was short, as most of her species are, barely reaching half of Jeb’s height. Her neck, arms, legs, everything about her was stout and somewhat blockish. Even the set of horns (if one could call them that) on her head and running down to her stubby tail were more like little white nubs than anything.

“Yes. Correct. That’s my name.”

The interrogation continued like that for several moortiks. His name. His age. His assigned ship. His assigned position aboard said ship. How he had sustained his injuries. How he and the humans had escaped Gamnut 4, and on. All of it was information they should have already known or would have been hardly inconvenienced to look up themselves. But she kept asking them, ardently typing down every answer he gave before moving on to the next question.

Finally, she asked something that once again made Jeb pause before answering.

“What was the designation code of the escape pod you used?”

Why, by all that is bright, would they need or want that information?

“I don’t see how that would be pertinent.”

The Donkun took a deep inhale and lowered the datapad slightly. “Look, this is the last thing I need. What was the designation code?”

Jeb thought about it. What was the designation code? He’d had to enter it to get it to launch it from the Gladius, and again a few times later at the console to activate different sustainability protocols. It was also painted on the hull as a way for rescuers to identify it.

“GLA-8…” he paused and tried to remember. “GLA-8-C2… Uh, C2-137, no wait, 147. I think it ended with 147.”

“GLA-8-C2-147,” the Donkun murmured slowly as she entered the information. All the while, Jeb’s mind was firing, trying to figure out why the Burnti Empire would want that information. Why would they want or need any of this information, really? Then it hit him. If rescuers could use the designation code to find a launched pod, then the Burnti could too. But why? Why would they want it? It was basically only good for spare parts at this point. Unless...

“If you think you can get anything on the Galactic Confederation from the pod’s console, you’re going to waste your time. It’s an emergency escape pod. You won’t find any information of interest to you from it.”

Again the Donkun barely looked up from her datapad as she finished up her notes. “Eh. Maybe not. We’ll see though. If there is, it will just be an added bonus for us. If not, well, no big deal. We’ll still have it in our possession as evidence.” Jebannuck frowned. “Evidence of what?” She turned around and began walking back towards the exit. “Evidence of what?!” Jebannuck climbed up to his feet, staggering a bit with his still-sore muscles.

She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder, her bored expression now tinged with annoyance. “Evidence of our rescue of the humans.”

“Your rescue? That's not what happened, that's not the truth! You abducted us!”

She hummed. “It's Commander Rozar’s truth,” she turned back and walked out the door, leaving Jeb alone with the guard once again. “So it's the only one that matters.”

***

It was bight. Like, stupid bright. Why did these lights have to be so up in his face?

Mike squinted to try to make out shapes in the shadows beyond the glowing panels surrounding him.

He'd been on film sets similar to this before, backstage sometimes when his parents had been interviewed or were guests on talk shows. He'd even been called on stage once when his parents announced that their son would be piloting a mission around Jupiter. They were going for the “family business” spin. It was a publicity stunt, really. Were there more qualified pilots in the company? You betcha. But were any of them the only son of the founders and owners of NearStar Explorations?  No, they weren't.

Maybe as it turned out, lucky them?

No. He had to stay positive. This plan was going to work. This… this had to work.

Oh, who was he kidding? With Rozar in charge of all of this, it was probably going to suck.

So, the plan. Yeah. He took in a deep breath and ran over things again in his mind.

Morse code. He’d had a few teachers and professor go over it briefly in various classes. It was simple enough. He’d even spent time trying to memorize it a time or two - the reason being that if he knew Morse code, he might be able to use it and see if there were secret messages being sent around in everyday life. Like flickering lights, or in the weird clicking noise the elevator at the academy made sometimes, etc.

As it turned out, there weren’t. Or at least, not as far as he could tell.

There was a story though, one that a teacher had shared about the uses of Morse code. It had really stuck with him through the years. During the Vietnam War, there’d been a pilot who had been shot down and captured, tortured, and later forced to appear in a press conference on tv by his captors. He said what they wanted him to say - that the POWs were being taken care of, that everything was fine, all of that. But while he was there - while he spoke, he blinked out “TORTURE” over and over in morse code.

And so he’d been practicing. He couldn’t remember all the letters he needed, but he remembered the pattern, and between him and Wenona, they figured something out. He’d also been blinking a lot lately to make what he was about to do not seem so conspicuous. It was especially easy to do when you were being blinded by stage lighting.

If he squinted or shaded his eyes, he could make out the hustle going on beyond the shadows. Strange, scaly blue aliens were bustling around, checking monitors and running cables. One with hunched shoulders and wispy hairs running down its spine ran up and clipped a small microphone inside the collar of his shirt. It was easily hidden by a colorful sash. It seemed to be part of the fashion or uniform on the ship. He wondered briefly of what the different lengths and colors meant. The ones he and Wenona had been given were a solid light blue color. It was the same color as the blue he remembered seeing on the hulls of many Burnti ships when he was still aboard the Gladius.

Red lights started glowing where he was pretty sure he’d seen cameras. Were they recording? Was this live? Or were they just going to record it and edit it? Was he going to throw up? Oh man, he hadn’t had stage fright in years, but there were definitely butterflies flappin’ around down there now! How many people were going to see this? How many planets? And not just that - what if he messed up? What if he had to talk and blink code at the same time and he lost track of how many blinks he’d done in the middle of a word? He and Wenona had practiced before after they found out about this whole ordeal, but that was back in their holding room. This was happening for real now.

“Are you ready there, gorgeous?”

Mike jerked his head jerked to his left. He’d been so focused on not freaking out that he hadn’t noticed the new alien show up. The first thing he noted was the skin. At first, it looked rough or coarse, but upon further inspection, Mike realized it was just an illusion of the swirling patterns of color and shadows that seemed to be constantly changing. Its head was vaguely shaped like a lizard’s, though the snout was very short and blunt. It was honestly kind of hard to see what the rest of it looked like. It was wearing a lot of fine sashes and fabrics. Like, a lot of them. It was small though, the colorful crest on top of its head made it probably as tall as Mike’s chest. If that.

Another smaller alien was setting up a mic amidst the sashes, while another hovered about on a double set of gossamer wings, applying a fine translucent powder to the colorful face.

“You look like you're a lost deer head in the light.” She gave a musical laugh. Or at least he thought it was a “her”. He had a hard time telling with some species. Especially for ones he hadn’t encountered before. He’d learned a while back to not guess out loud. It got awkward sometimes. But for this particular alien, he couldn’t help but think she was a she. She sounded like a she. Wow, that was a lot of colors! It was kind of distracting.

“Did I say that right?” Mike forgot to not stare. He blinked a few times to try to make him blinking out code later seem more normal. What was it that she had said? What was she trying to say right?

“Uhm, yeah I think so,” he muttered as he tried to collect his thoughts again. “Wait, what?”

“It’s an Earth phrase, I believe.” She gave him a smile that made her small, slitted eyes nearly close completely. “It seems like an odd thing to say, but I’m sure it must make sense back on Earth?”

Mike smiled back, only remembering at the last minute to not show his teeth in his smile. He didn’t need to freak anyone out or scaring them. “Uh, yeah, deer in a headlight, sure am I guess.” That was what she had said, right? Oh, he needed to calm down! Seriously, where was this stage fright coming from? Deep breaths, deep breaths.

“Oh is that how it goes?” She gave another laugh. The colors across her face changed again. It was… mesmerizing. He nodded absentmindedly.

The smaller aliens finished their tasks and retreated back to the shadows beyond the stage lights, the winged one giving one last brush to the topmost sash before it flitted away.

“Now, before we start, your name is pronounced Mike, correct? I’d hate to get that wrong on live stream.”

He nodded, “Yeah. Mike.” He blinked a few more times for good measure.

“We’re going live in 7… 6… 5….”

Mike took a few more deep breaths and tried to focus on the patterns he needed to get his message out.

“Greetings all from the Arum Bloom, Second Command Cruiser of the Glorious Burnti Empire. For all our loyal returning viewers, you of course already know me, but for those of you who may be new or guests to our stream, my name is Urma Kalabretti Esh.” Music began playing from somewhere. It sounded happy and upbeat, but whatever instruments that were used to play it sounded tinny and hollow. There wasn’t a live audience present, but someone was doing a great job of playing recordings of various species cheering.

After pausing long enough for the music to die down, Urma Kalabretti Esh continued, “Thank you, thank you! Of course, it is always my delight to share with our lovely viewers the news, stories, and enlightenment of the Burnti Empire!”

She turned her head toward what should have been where the middle camera was set up. Mike realized they must have gone for a wide shot. He was on camera now. Okay. First letter. First letter? Oh, shoot! Uh… P!

Short blink. Long blink. Long blink. Short.

“Today we have a special guest with us to share some very exciting news. Prepare yourself, viewers, we’re in for a treat and a tale! May I introduce Human Mike Rockwell all the way from Earth!” The music started up again. It sounded a lot like the first time, but the melody was slightly different.

R. Short blink. Long. Short.

I. Short. Short.

S. Short. Short. Short.

“Now Human Mike, you’ve been with us here on the Arum Bloom for nearly three solar rotation sets, correct?”

O. Long. Long. Long.

“Yes.”

Oh, shoot, what was N? He sometimes got mixed up with N and A.

Long. Short. Pause. E. Short. Pause. R. Short. Long. Short.

“And you and your companion, another human, were found and picked up by our gracious Commander Rozar shortly after the fall of the Confederation Blockade?”

Was he being too obvious with the blinking? Someone was going to figure out what he was doing and stop him, right? Would they stop him on live stream, or would they wait until a break? Was there a break? Did aliens do commercial breaks? What would they do if they caught him? Oh shoot, he should start blinking again. Wait, what was the question she asked?

“Uh… yeah.” He hoped that would be a good answer to whatever the question was.

Short, long, long, short. Short, long, short. Short, short.

“Now, we all know your people have an alliance with the Galactic Confederation,” she paused as a series of “audience” voices moaned, hissed, and otherwise sounded very unhappy at the mention of the GC.

Short, short, short. Long, long, long.

“But tell me, Mike, were you yourself ever aligned with or signed up with a Confederation crew?”

Short. Long, short. Short. Short, long, short.

“No.” Short, long, long, short. “I was a pilot for my parent’s company.”

He focused on blinking out the word on repeat. All the while, Urma Kalabretti Esh continued the interview. For a good little while, she mostly fed Mike questions that he only needed ten words or less to answer. Together, they painted a picture of events that Rozar or whoever had made up- how he and Wenona had been abducted by a Galactic Confederation ship, had been forced to serve on board and to fight until they’d escaped in a pod during the battle at the blockade.

“Now, Mike, is it true that you and Wenona were stranded for a time on the planet Gamnut 4?” The “audience” gasped.

Mike continued to blink.

“Yes, everyone was distracted. We got away and we landed in an escape pod.”

“Gamnut 4,” the alien host gave a worried look, the swirling colors on her scaly face muted slightly. “From what I understand, it’s registered as a category 1 death world. That must have been terrifying for you two all alone!”

Long, short. Short. Short, long, short.

They hadn’t been alone, he wanted to say. But that wasn’t what had been scripted. “Uh, kind of. It wasn’t too bad. Actually, it was a lot like home.”

“Ah yes, how interesting! Your home, Earth, is registered as a category 3 death world, am I correct?”

Short, long, long, short.

“Um, yeah I guess. It’s just home, so I’ve never really thought about it as a death world.” And he hadn’t. At least, not before he left Earth. He’d heard so much about other homeworlds while aboard the Gladius. Most of them sounded like dream vacations spots.

“Truly remarkable! I suppose Gamnut 4 seemed like a breeze after growing up with all Earth could throw at you.” The colorful patterns brightened again. Mike tried to not let himself get too distracted. Thankfully, he felt that at this point, he had fallen into a bit of a rhythm with the code. Hopefully, the message was getting through.

“Now Mike, I know after you were rescued from the planet, Commander Rozar explained the situation with Earth’s alliance with the Galactic Confederation.” “He did.” Short, short, short. Long, long, long.

“Isn’t it terrible?! First, they block the Burnti Empire, getting a monopoly for Earth interactions, and then they turn on their supposed new allies by abducting you and who knows how many else?!”

The “audience” erupted into a cacophony of gasps, snorts, shouts of outrage, and whatever other noises they had on file to play.

Short, long, short. Short, short. Short, short, short. Long, long, long. Long, short. Short. Short, long, short.

“Tell me, Mike, if circumstances had been different if the Galactic Confederation hadn’t forced our people apart, do you think a Burnti/Earth alliance would have been better than what your people are currently suffering through?”

Oh, she was laying it on thick now. He knew she would. That’s how it was planned to go. He said what she wanted to hear. Or rather, what Commander Rozar wanted to be said.

Short, long, long, short. Short, long, short.

He agreed. He commended. He praised the Burnti Empire for saving him. He recommended them to his leaders back on Earth. Inwardly, he grimaced. He cited off all the things that had been scripted for him to say. All the while, the words felt dirty in his mouth.

Stick with the plan. If he didn’t, who knows what they’d do to Jeb.

Short, short. Short, short, short. Long, long, long.

Someone would catch on, right?

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#abduction #chapter 19 #jeb #jebannuck #mike #wenona #burnti empire #gladius #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are space orcs #aliens #space #humans #morse code

[maxtothemax]

Forever - Annotations

Well, here’s the final installment of “Max makes dumb comments in Maximum Ride books” because I finally read Forever and god damn was it a trip. (Seriously, these comments are, dare I say, the funniest I have ever made.) Enjoy!

- This already feels, like, entirely separate from the rest of the series. Even the way the book jacket is designed. It’s odd.

- “I know what you want” Um, I kinda want this book to not exist in the first place

- Are you really assuming someone would pick up the 9th book w/o having at least read one other book in the series?? [By that point, it’s like, if you’re confused that’s your own fault bud]

- Explosives are really different from volcanoes, though!

- “The sulfur levels just tripled!” How does he know that??

- “We need to find Dylan” Why? He sucks!

- [about Dylan/Max romance] Jesus Christ. I thought we were over that.

- Y’know, this is kinda just making me sad for a variety of reasons

- That’s also just not how mutation works. [Later the weird mutant monsters were revealed to be cyborgs of some sort but. Still.]

- They’re all gonna die of infections

- [General comments about neglecting medical care, because I’m a realist and they should’ve all died from infections by now.]

- *The flock finds a laptop* Me, mockingly: “The cottage looked like it hadn’t been lived in in years!1!!!” :/

- “I know it makes no sense, but don’t question it” Just like everything else in this goddamn series

- This book is horribly depressing

- Why do I get the feeling this “mysterious young man” is Dylan [who supposedly died like 30 pages ago]

- The red-haired wonder strikes again

- Again, JP fails at coming up with good names (he named a character HORSEMAN) (it’s supposed to be like “horseman of the apocalypse” or whatever but STILL)

- He’s gonna get lung cancer

- “Iggy had always been so good at neutralizing tension” Bitch, where??

- Apparently we haven’t learned that splitting the flock is a bad idea :/

- [Misc. comments about “it can’t possibly have been two years since that thing happened in the series, what the fuck are you on, James”]

- Angel has actually been an eldritch abomination this whole time

- When has Fang ever been rational?

- ...and that’s how you get away with putting a sex scene in a YA book

- He’s going to get an infection and DIE

- Since when does Total actually bark??

- Oh come on. No one’s ever gone forever in this series.

- Weird smell?

- What, exactly, was the point of this?

- the FUCK?

- The worst thing is I know she’s not dead, and this whole subplot is just one big plot hole

- “I wondered if the bird had been ill or pull of poisonous chemicals” According to Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, most birds are!

- “Life always managed to surprise you with child assassins at just the right moment.” I want that on a t-shirt

- “Pretty sure that’s not how evolution works” Hey. That’s my catchphrase.

- What, she’s just gonna pop up as a plot device and then disappear?

- It was a Catholic school, actually

- I’m pretty sure he’s not capable of flirting, but whatever

- “The Gasman is dead. The kid blew himself up” Lmao I wouldn’t be too sure about that

- Maybe shutting your eyes would work too?

- That’s not how that works!

- He can’t understand you, you fool

- “The poor guy couldn’t help it if he’d been programmed with the intellectual capabilities of a Tickle Me Elmo” That’s so mean but so fucking funny

- Max doesn’t ever learn from experience, I guess

- This is surreal and also pointless

- what even

- wHAT

- “It was Dylan” Called it

- “Jeb” BASTARD MAN

- “You bastard” mood

- FUCK

- FUCK

- Are you kidding me. None of this makes any narrative sense.

- “Dylan you saved our lives” “It’s what any of you would’ve done” ...no, it’s not, really

- As I keep reminding you: Fang did die that one time

- He DID die that time!!

- [Just a lot of me reminding everyone that Fang’s heart stopped for a whole five minutes three books ago]

- “Gazzy’s a lady-killer” Since when?? He’s nine

- ...Why didn’t any adults [aside from the evil ones] survive the apocalypse?

- “Max was their only chance at saving the world” Why?? She’s just one person!

- STOP BEING MEAN TO ARI [he’s dead for fuck’s sake, like for real this time]

- “...a prep school voice said from the doorway” What’s that supposed to mean?? What is a prep school voice??

- “Consider yourself judged” Me @ Dylan from the very beginning

- Everything in this book just makes me go “what the fuck” a little bit more each time

- Two! People! Can’t! Repopulate! The Earth!! That causes inbreeding, dumbass!

...and also mathematically it just doesn’t work like that

- “I’m pregnant.” [pregananant. pregante. pregonate. gregnant. prengan. pregnart. okay I’m done]

1. How in the fuck does she know that

2. Why was JP so desperate to reuse this shitty weird plot arc from The Lakehouse?

- Like, seriously. How old is Max by now? 16? 17?

TOO FUCKING YOUNG

- I’m so sick of hearing about Dylan’s eyes

- This is some weird shit, even for Maximum Ride

- [@ Dylan sacrificing himself to resurrect Fang] Jesus fucking Christ, dude

- So... no egg?

BONUS: my reaction to an ad in the back for the rest of the series that says “start anywhere, but you won’t be able to stop until you finish!”

YOU CAN’T JUST START ANYWHERE, YOU BUFFOON!

#they speak #maximum ride #annotations #forever #i think i'm funny and i am #i almost died of laughter typing out the alternatives for pregnant

[transgender-scout]

Okay I found a pdf online of the Angel experiment and started reading it last night when I couldn’t sleep. It turned into less of a list of me complaining and more of a reaction as I relived my life in 6th grade. I’ve got the first four chapters + the prologue so I’ll do 5 chapters at a time. To keep from clogging dashes I’m going to drop this bad boy under the cut.

Book 1:

Prologue

•Oh my god I actually missed these prologues where the protagonist talks so dramatically to the reader like this. Gives me a real animorphs vibe hell yeah

•OH MY GOD 14 I USED TO THINK THAT WAS SO OLD WHAT HAPPENED

•WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO RELEASE A LITERAL CHILD INTO THE WORLD LIKE THIS

•God I’m losing it this sounded like a deviant art bio

•Oh god I see where I got my flare for dramatic introductions

•It always bothered me that they’re only 2% bird. I feel like that might have given them some patches of feathers maybe instead of wings and improved hearing and sight and strength and metabolism an

•There it is again-“the only experiments to make it past infancy” I have a couple of books’ worth of proof that says that’s wrong. Yeah sure Max probably didn’t know about everything that was going on at the school but don’t sound so definitive about this. What is this, supernatural?

•Also why were the Erasers the only ones who could morph? Wouldn’t it be better to have wings that could morph into your back?? More useful???

•Also I hope the internet taught them about furries so they could make snide jokes tinged with nervous laughter about how Erasers are furries.

•“Welcome to our nightmare” GOD THAT'S SO 2005

•I still have no idea what Max meant by “if you read this story, you become part of the experiment.” I don’t see any wings popping out of my back, Miss, I’d like a refund.

Chapter 1

•GODDD NOW I SEE WHERE I GET MY WRITING STYLE I HATE THISSS

•Also still not sure what the whole point of this dream sequence was besides padding out a first chapter (which honestly? Mood). Any insight?

•W-if the Erasers are chasing after Max, why the fuck do they have bloodhounds? Isn’t wolf smelling on par, if not better than dogs’?? I understand this is a dream but like. Yo.

•Everyone always draws Max’s wings like eagle wings and they’re even colored like that in the manga, but the wiki says they resemble hawk wings. Hm.

Chapter 2

•Also the E shaped house always bugged me, too. The way it sounds, it’s not secluded by trees or anything, but Max says they’re totally hidden?? Surely someone goes hiking in the mountains around there.

•Ah yes. Jeb. Bastard man.

•Wait did he just. Fuckin up and leave? Like in the middle of the night like “bye kids gonna go get some milk” and never came back? How fucked up is that?

•And how the fuck did he expect three 12 year olds to take care of a 9 year old, a 6 year old, and a 4 year old by themselves??

•No doctors. Is Max part of the anti vaxx movement? Surely the folks at the lab weren’t like “well obviously they need all their shots if they’re to function normally in society and not die of chickenpox.”

•Also I like how dramatically this chapter ends. He literally could have kept going djsjfjsfn

Chapter 3

•Why is Gazzy a walking potty humor joke? That literally comes into play once in like the third to last book. #GiveGazzyTheCharacterDevelopmentHeDeserves2k19

•I forgot if this was mentioned but how do they know Gazzy and Angel are siblings? Is it just because they look similar?

•IGGY. SON.

•Also I’m remembering every page from the manga in like super high definition rn

•I saw someone else discuss this, but where in the fuck do they get food from?? Max makes it sound like she’s never gone into real society before and a 14 year old buying at least $1000 worth of groceries every week seems super sketch to literally any place ever.

•It always struck me as weird that Angel likes cozy places considering she lived in a dog crate for the first few years of her life.

•It’s so weird to me that literally the only person who got powers was Angel. The rest develop their (single use) powers along the way whenever it was convenient but I guess she just started out with hers? Idk I literally have no room to talk tho one of my ocs has inexplicable mind reading powers too lol

Chapter 4

•JDJSFJ THE CONVO AB THE STRAWBERRIES IS SO SHORT AND FORCED FJSJFJSJK I know it’s just to start the plot but shakfjajfjwj???

•CHAPTER 4 IS LITERALLY A PARAGRAPH LONG WHAT IN THE HELL

•Oh also why don’t they ever use Gazzy’s voice mimic thing?? JP could have made things where it was voice locked but Gazzy could have had a personality and been like “yo guys I got this!”

•Also how in the world can an 8 year old perfectly mimic a 14 year old’s voice? I’m guessing it’s an implied bird thing maybe.

•“Most of us had [weird abilities].” LITERALLY ONLY TWO OF YOU DO.

Chapter 5

•Oof trained? I can see why Jeb would train the kids to fight but like,,, yikes. Those are literal babies,,,,, plss

•Also I thought it was weird how they could just clap their hands around the Eraser’s ears and their eardrums would just fuckin pop. Do wolves really work like that? Someone who knows more about wolves than me look that up.

•Honestly?? The flock should have tons of scars n shit from all the times they’ve fought the Erasers. I’d really have liked to hear them come up at some point.

•Was there a reason they only wanted Angel or…? It’s been a long time since I read the series. From what Max was saying, pretty much half flock was out cold and would have been easy pickings for the Erasers to take back to the lab.

•Well the one thing I can say is that at least Ari is acting like a jealous seven year old.

•Lowkey wish there’d been more time to establish Ari, in hindsight. While we do get his view point in later books, we still really didn’t even get to know much about him. I’m not sure if that was for a reason or just a character who didn’t get developed. I wish there had at least been a name drop or something in the priori chapters like “I’m pretty sure Jeb had a son. Wonder where he went. Oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

•Also I forgot again but was there a reason Jeb didn’t bring Ari along?? Like, he couldn’t have done the same things as the flock, sure, but at least he would be there with his dad and like, other kids near his age to interact with. Did we ever get any info ab Ari’s mom? Again, shitty memory.

#this is gonna be a trip #maximum ride #terrifiedofjudgement

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #386

“Octagon and Enix, Spleef, Bird Dad”

[CP] Is holding his no longer flaming baby and is letting Notch visit with the others when he feels the shift in the mainframe and he shudders a little-

[Fangbo] Notices his reaction. - Did Aether pull your hair or something?

[CP] - No...- He looks over at the mainframe- The seeds have shifted...

[Fangbo] Oh? You're sensitive to that? Maybe one of the big multiplayer servers changed host sites or something.

[CP] - Maybe...- He takes Aether and hands her back over to Notch- Just give me a moment

[Notch] Any reccomendations to keep her from getting cold again?

[CP] - Keep her out of the way of the vents and if she does catch on fire again, well, you know it wont hurt you yet

[Flux] Digs through the diaper bag and finds an extra blanket-

[Notch] Got it. Where are you headed?

[CP] - The main frame

[Notch] I'd say be gentle but you know how to conduct yourself.

[Jeb] He does????

[Flux] - He'll be fine

[CP] Ignores Jeb and touches the servers letting himself be pulled in and he looks to see what happened-

-There is now a very big server next to the one he's been calling home-

[CP] Snickers and goes to inspect the new bigger server-

-It's already super overbuilt. There are a faintly ridiculous number of players running around and the chat is full of random emoticons and leetspeak. There are quite a few large sculptures with just random words and pixel art from various 8bit games. There's a spleef dome rising over part of the town as well. The spawn is a sort of open waiting room with the basic server rules posted on a series of white colums in a circle. People are hustling in every direction but the spot he's standing in is relatively quiet.

[CP] - Oh joy, fresh prey

-He's immediatly struck with the feeling of being scrutinzed-

[CP] Focus' on the feeling to see what it is-

-There's a bit of a cough from above him-

[Octagon] You look lost friend. I hope you're not here to make mischief. - The figure is unmistakably a NOTCH, but he has a full long beard plaited like a dwarf and a name floating over his head like a player.

[CP] - Oh fuck off

[Octagon] Now that's not very nice. And here I'm being super polite too.

[CP] - I just  came to find out what had been placed next to our server and if it were a threat

[Octagon] Then we're neighbors! How wonderful! You can see my name, what's yours? -Chuckles- Though I can probably guess.

[CP] - The others usually refer to me as CP

[Octagon] Hops down from the pillar and stands next to him. He's average height for a NOTCH, so shorter then Cp- Pleased to meet you then! I wouldn't have a player name, like this- he indicates the floating bar- but my brother tagged me.

[CP] - Your brother?

[Octagon] Yes! Let me see if I can get his attention. I think he'd be more your speed anyway- He does some whisper typing and then waits-

-A Herobrine basically steps out of his shadow and makes a show of stalking and menacing the NOTCH from behind before tickling his ribs with a gigantic grin-

[Octagon] Dissolves into wild laughter - BRO!

[CP] - Oh joy- He's dead pan

[Enix] Speaks with the most sinister voice Cp's ever heard outside the mansion, it's practically an oily sound. - What? No sense of humor?

[CP] - Only when it comes to murder or teasing my wife

[Enix] A brine with a mate? Did you wed an Alex? Lucky man.

[Octagon] You have a wife? That's so sweet. Is she nice?

[CP] - Another brine, and it's none of your fucking business

[Enix] Shrugs- Suit yourself.

[Octagon] He lives next server over!

[Enix] Lounges against a pillar. - So how's the neighborhood around here? Our admin changed hosts.

[CP] - Well it was quiet, but don't expect to be able to just hop over, it's a private server

-There's a bit of commotion as a few players spawn in and stand for a moment. The native NOTCH and brine make a show of stiffly waving at them and doing a few player hops-

[Octagon] Sounds quiet.

[CP] - Again, it was, but I suspect we'll be picking up a fair amount of noise from your server here

[Enix] Not much to be done about that. This is a kids server.

[Octagon] Little players really liven up the place!

[CP] - Ours is a sanctuary for brines

[Octagon] So you don't have any players at all?

[CP] - Occasionally a few that we trust explicitly will come on, but otherwise, no

[Octagon] But who pays the bills?

[CP] - We have our ways

[Enix] Clever, and close with secrets I see. Well we're set up decently well too. The head admin thinks we're both players.

[Octagon] Snickers-

[CP] - Pathetic

[Enix] Scoff if you want. It's a good gig.

[Octagon] Some of us like kids you know. He and I keep the griefing and hacking to a minimum so everyone has fun.

[CP] - We're brines!  We're supposed to grief!

[Lie] Slips into the server, having been wondering what was taking CP so long and so had traced his path through the office.  She appears right behind her husband-

[Octagon] But they're just kids. It would be mean to grief them. They'd just cry.

[Enix] Hides a growing smile behind one hand - You wouldn't burn down some little kids clubhouse would ya?

[CP] - I have in the past

[Lie] Sighs- CP...

[CP] Stiffens and turns around- Lie...

[Enix] Laughs- I think someone just got busted!

[Octagon] All smiles- Hello miss! Welcome to our server.

[Lie] - Hello, I apologize if my husband has been harassing you

[CP] - Why are you here?

[Lie] - You were taking a very long time checking on our daughter so I figured I'd see what was taking you.  Oh, and you also griefed your father, she pooped right after you left apparently and Jeb had to show him how to change the diaper

[Octagon] You have a daughter too???

[Enix] Scoots closer- You're a Herobrine! A female Herobrine???

[Octagon] Gets closer as well- My stars!

[Lie] Hesitates a little- Yes, a newborn, and yes I am a female brine...

[CP] Growls as the other two get closer to his wife-

[Octagon] Congratulations! I had no idea that was even possible!

[Enix] I hope she didn't inherit her dads temperment. He's a bit rude.

[Lie] - He's better than he used to be

[CP] - Speaking of our daughter, we should be getting back to her

-There's a bit of commotion and a player with a silly skin runs up to Octagon and places a sign before typing on it-

[Octagon] Oh dear, that's not allowed. I'm sorry I have to tend to this. It was nice meeting you.

[Enix] Watches his brother rush off. - Yeah, likewise. Sorry about the noise, we have so many players, this place is like a madhouse. Even the Nether and Aether are noisy as all get out. Only the End is quiet.

[Lie] - Our Aether is noisy sometimes too

[CP] Groans at his wife's joke-

[Enix] Stares at her for a long moment and then lets out a rather evil sounding laugh- That's excellent! You named your child after the NOTCH realm mod didn't you???

[Lie] - Yes, we did

[Enix] I love it! What are your thoughts on players? Your hubby seems none too keen on them.

[Lie] - It depends on the player themselves, although I really have no room to judge since I used to be one

[Enix] Oh now things start to make sense... this means someone in your circle can get out. How intriging. I spend most of my time with players.

-A few players are creeping around a little watching them-

[Enix] Hang on- He turns quickly and gives them a freaky grin-

-There's some excited jumping and the avatars sprint away merrily-

[Enix] I save my A-game for more adult multiplayer games mostly.

[Lie] Motions at CP- He's the one who dragged me in initially

[CP] - Lie!  Let's go!

[Enix] Something on fire Cp?

[CP] - You're being annoying!

[Lie] - Adult multiplayer?

[Enix] Gives her fingerguns- I slay at Overwatch, TF2, COD, I know how to do remote logins.

[Lie] - Okay then

[CP] Flumps on his wife a little-

[Lie] - Really CP?

[CP] - I would think you'd want to get back

[Lie] - Why?

[CP] - So we could finish what we were doing~

[Enix] Ah, is it adult playtime?

[Lie] - It was until the baby figured out how to set herself on fire

[Enix] You don't sound panicked so I'm going to assume it's a normal thing for a child brine to be on fire.

[Lie] - Considering it's one of her father's powers?  Yes

-Another small group of players spawn in and wave -

[Enix] Just play it cool.

[Lie] - Well we should be leaving soon anyways, but I'll be sure to let our head admin know about you guys

-messages in chat-

-Whoah Pretty hair! O-O-

-Red Herobrine! Super talllllllllllllll-

[Enix] Thanky. Come back and visit if you want. Just walk stiff and follow the rules.

[Lie] - We will- She stands near CP and he lets both of them out and back into the office

[CP] Helps Lie out and both of them can hear Aether getting fussy-

[Notch] Back again? How did it go?

[Fangbo] Is making faces at Aether to make her giggle-

[Lie] - Well the new neighbors have a brine and a NOTCH

[Dofta] oh dear... do they get along at least?

[CP] - Their relationship is brotherly

[Lie] Goes to take her fussy baby from Notch-

[Dofta] Oh good. [She's still upset about the incident with Mb and Echo the other day]

[Notch] That's a relief at least.

[Lie] Picks up on Dofta's emotions- Hey, it wasn't your fault.  It was actually the NOTCH's fault that MB was up for deletion

[CP] - Yeah, and they are way too cheerful

[Fangbo] Cheerful is bad?

[Yster] Well I can think of worse things.

[Jeb] Is looking at a screen on the mainframe - that's a big server...

[CP] - The head admin just thinks that they are players, they hit each other with name tags

[Notch] That's actually kinda clever. They're just living there?

[Jeb] Is looking up some info on the server. - Oh man...! I found the stats for it.

[CP] - Yeah well can you move it farther from ours?

[Locklear] - Are you really being territorial over a digital space?

[CP] - Yes!

[Jeb] The owner is a rather sweet-looking little old lady. And no, I can't move it. The placement is decided by the hosting service. They just got a packet near yours.

[Yster] I got the impression he was territorial about everything in general.

[CP] - Then I'll find a way to move it

[Notch] Just leave it be please, it sounds like they might be decent allies.

[CP] Grumbles-

[Lie] - Should we be heading back?

[Notch] I think so, Aether looks sleepy too.

[Lie] - Yeah, I think it's nap time

[Lie] Once back home they say goodbye to Notch and go inside. CP lays down on the bed with their daughter and Lie watches as he falls asleep with her, taking a screen shot as her daughter sleeps soundly on her father's chest. With a giggle she decides to check on CN and looks around for the child-

[CN] Is digging around in the food trunk for a snack-

[Lie] - And what are you doing CN?

[CN] Yelps and quickly turned around- Lie!

[Lie] - Are we getting a snack?

[CN] - Yeah...

[Lie] - I see, well after your snack, do you want to go for a ride with me?

[CN] - Sure! Where are we going?

[Lie] - Just to Docs place, there's some stuff I need to tell them

[CN] Quickly eats an apple- Okay! I'm ready to go!

[Lie] Smiles and follows CN out to the stable where he selects a horse and then follows her to the front of the house so she can get on Beau. The stallion is happy to be getting out and prances a little- Easy there, we're just going for a short ride

[CN] Climbs on his horse and follows Lie towards Docs house-

[Doc] is dozing in the sun near the spawn, hir dragon tail is draped over a few of the headstones and the small wall-

[Lie] - Guess we won't have to go so far- She trots over to Doc- Hey Doc? I've got some news...

[Doc] blinks sleepily- mm? Oh. Hi lie, Cn - Xe yawns - I didn't sleep worth a damn last night...

[Lie] - Because of the server shift?

[Doc] You felt it too huh? It was that, and the noise...

[Lie] - CP felt it from out in the office. He also went to investigate and it's where I found him

[Doc] Groans- please tell me he didn't already piss everyone off?

[Lie] - Not yet, but there is a brine and NOTCH over there

[Doc] Hunkers down into a tidy, alert crouch- Now you have my full attention.

[Lie] - They have taken on a brothers relationship and the server admin just believes that they are players.  It's a server for kids

[CN] - For kids?

[Doc] No wonder it's so noisy. They must have a lot of players for all the activity I've been picking up on.

[Lie] - It looked like it too.  Jeb looked up the stats for the server and said it was massive

[Doc] Interested tail flick - and the brine and the NOTCH? They're just living there? Are they really into babysitting or something?

[Lie] - I'm not sure, CP talked to them longer than I did.  But he's currently napping with the baby.  Their names are Octagon and Enix though

[Doc] How odd. Well at least it's nothing bad. I'll make my way over with a welcome cake or something, but not right now. I'm so tired... - They lay their head down with their chin in the grass. - I can't even sleep in my bed right now. Buff decided to evict my cobweb collection and it's annoying as hell listening to him whistle and bump around cleaning stuff.

[Lie] - I'm sorry to hear that

[CN] Nudges his horse closer to Lie- Lie?

[Lie] - Yes?

[CN] - Could...  Could I go over there?

[Lie] - Well, I don't see why not, but you'd have to move stiffly like the players

[Doc] Thanks Lie. They might be suspicious of you too since you're smaller then a player.

[Lie] - That's true, but they just seemed awed at how large CP was.  They're kids, they might not think much of it

[Doc] Perhaps. And if their Herobrine doesn't shade his eyes, they might be used to a few anomalies... - They sneak their tail fluff over their eyes and shift to a more comfortable pose. Like a balled cat.

[CN] - Could we...  Go now?

[Lie] Hesitates a little- Are you sure you want to CN?

[CN] Nods his head-

[Doc] You guys have fun then, and be careful. Cn, you're not used to being around players, they can be impulsive and even destructive.

[CN] - But they're kids!

[Lie] - And they don't realize we're real and can feel pain

[CN] - Oh...

[Doc] They're just playing from behind a screen. Dying is a minor inconvenience. And they can't talk except in the chat and passing stuff like signs or books back and forth.

[CN] - Okay

[Lie] - Lets put our horses in with the skeletal ones here CN, then we can go

[CN] Nods in agreement and jumps the horse over the low fence-

[Lie] Does the same with Beau before creating an opening- See you in a bit Doc

[Doc] -is already asleep again-

[Lie] Makes the opening and guides CN through, both showing up at the spawn of the other server-

[CN] Looks around and bounces a bit in excitement-

[Enix] Runs by playfully chasing some players and stops- You came back so soon, and you brought a child? I thought your little one was a newborn? - He leans down to get a better look at Cn-

[Lie] - This is my NOTCH, CN, he heard their were other children here and wanted to come visit.  CN?  This is Enix

[CN] Takes a step back and moves a bit behind Lie-

[Enix] He's a bit timid huh? - He realizes the kids he was chasing have snuck up on him and are peeking at him from behind a pillar- Excuse me for a sec- He turns quickly and teleports right in front of them with a pickaxe in one hand. The kids leap and run like the dickens- Hehehe. Works every time.

[Lie] - And not just on children

[CN] Is looking up and around at everything there-

[Lie] - Go on CN, if you want to go explore then go.  I'm sure Enix or Octagon can teleport you to me when you want to

[Enix] Perhaps I can show you around in the meantime? We've got quite a community of budding pixel artists.

[Lie] - Sure, I'd love a tour.  Go have fun CN

[CN] Doesn't need to be told twice as he rushes off-

-The town is full of people rushing back and forth, some of them are even running little shops to trade things with other players. The chat is full or random talk as well, mostly about school and gossip. The houses are laid out on a basic grid and they vary in quality and materials-

[CN] Wanders around and checks everything out, reading the chat and getting confused about some of the things being talked about-

-A few avatars stop to look at him and there's some activity in the chat-

-There's a little guy LOLz.-

-Mini Notch wtf?-

-Neat skin!!!!11!!1-

[CN] Tries to figure out how to talk in chat without being too obvious- THanks?

-Wanna play with us???-

-SPLEEF-

-Agian? OMG. -

[CN] - Spleef?  What's that?

[FollyCloud] You run around on snow with a shovel and try to cut the snow out from under other people!

[CN] - Sounds easy enough...

[BlockofFred] We have our own big stadum! Octagon keeps it set up!

[SilverMilk] We need one more person though....

[CN] - Okay, I'll play

[CaptainPurple] I call little guy!

[BlockofFred] I want Folly!

[SilverMilk] I'll message RobbinTime and meet you there.

[CN] - You can call me CN

[CaptainPurple] Cool!

-The others are all bouncing and sprinting ahead-

[CN] Follows, forgetting to move stiffly-

[BlockofFred] Watches him curiously- You move weird...

[CN] - Uh, it's...  Mods

[BlockofFred] Oh! Neato1!

-The group approaches a board covered in game rules and a button in the center.  The group hits the button and CN follows suit-  The end up in a lobby where the players are partnering up and going to the designated areas for a match.  As they cross a line of purple blocks, it sets their spawn point for the arena-

[CN] - Whoa...

[SilverMilk] Comes back with another player, their nameplate is RobbinTime - ready!

[CN] - Okay, so how do we do this?

[CaptainPurple] Nods at RobbinTime and they each hit a button on the wall-

[CN] Follows suit and the trio are teleported to an arena.  Their inventories have been cleared and they now only have an iron helmet and a diamond shovel-

-The other three are facing them from across the snowfield-

[SilverMilk] Just use the shovel to knock the snow out from under them, and don't fall, okay?

[CN] - Got it- He gets ready and his vision is briefly obscured by a countdown timer and when it's time to go he races forwards with the others

-There's a lot of scurrying and jumping, snow is flying everywhere and BlockofFred is the first to fall-

[CN] Jumps over a gap to try to get behind the other team.  He manages to knock RobbinTime down- Yes!

[CaptainPurple] Shoves Cn out of the way just as FollyCloud swings to knock the ground out from under him-

[CN] Stumbles and falls- Oof!

[CaptainPurple] Is now chasing FollyCloud around and they're swiftly  running out of blocks to stand on-

[CN] Shakily stands and starts running to head FollyCloud off-

[FollyCloud] Manages to drop CaptainPurple and turns his attention to Cn-

[CN] Is having a bit of a stand off, not sure how to proceed and is looking for a safe route-

[FollyCloud]Chases him into a corner and takes a swing at the block under him-

[CN] Falls and it's at this point that he realizes that there's lava beneath the snow.  He panics and without thinking he shifts into his bird form and flies up-

-WHOAH!-

-How did he do that??????-

[CN] Panic and flies to the far side of the arena where there's still snow and he shifts back, pressing himself back against the door-

-HACKER!!!1!1!-

[Octagon] Tps into the arena and looks around with his hands on his hips and his black eyes narrowed in annoyance-

[FollyCloud] Jumps around- He did something weird! He's cheating!

[CN] Starts breathing hard- There's lava down there!

[Octagon] Stalks over to him- well yes, that's kinda the point of not falling. Who are you?

[CN] Is trembling a little, looking for anyway out- C...  CN...

[SilverMilk] He was moving weird...

[FollyCloud] He turned into somethign small!

[CN] Is really wanting Lie right about now-

[Octagon] Very quietly- I'm not sure what you're playing at, but you've thrown the gauntlet down now. If he knocked you down and you cheated back up, then the game can't end until you fall.

[CN] - But...  That's going to hurt (String of numbers)

[Octagon] I'm aware of that, but you won't be deleted.

[CN] - But...  But...

[Octagon] Just swats the block out from under him-

[CN] Falls with a yell and doesn't manage to transform quickly enough this time, hitting the lava and screaming in pain before popping back into the Spleef lobby.  He immediately takes off at a run to try and get out with tears forming at the corners of his eyes-

[Octagon] Reassures the other players before tping to his location. Or course Cn is moving but he's close by- Wait a minute!

[CN] Stumbles and turns quickly terrified-

[Octagon] Easy there little NOTCH. That was nessesary.

[CN] - It...  It hurt...  So much...- CN leans up against a wall, they are mostly hidden from sight

[Octagon] Sorry, but once you start a Spleef game that's the only way to end it. There's no way out of the arena except to auto tp when all the opposing team has dropped and hit respawn.

[CN] - I didn't know that!

[Octagon] I hear that a lot. Most of the players here are children and they tend not to read rules carefully.

[CN] - I...  I just wanted some new friends to play with...- He's still shaking and a couple of tears roll down his cheek

[Octagon] Kneels down and pats his shoulder- Are you lost? Did you wander in from the void?

[CN] Shakes his head- My brine brought me because I asked her...

[Octagon] There's another Herobrine on the server????

[CN] - She visited earlier...

[Octagon] Blinks- The white-haired brine?

[CN] Nods- Yeah, she's my brine

[Octagon] Would you like me to find her for you?

[CN] Nods-

[Octagon] Reaches out for his hand - then that's what we'll do. I'm Octagon by the way.

[CN] - You already know my name...- He cautiously takes the offered hand

[Octagon] Uses his free hand to try and get Lie's attention in the chat-

[Enix] Notices and pauses from pointing out different types of planes someone has built high above the harborside- Oh dear... it seems your NOTCH had a bit of an accident.

[Lie] - Is he okay?

[Enix] He respawned, but Octagon says he's okay. Just a bit shaken up. It seems he decided to join a game of Spleef with some players.

[Lie] - Oh dear, take me to him?

[Enix] Of course. - He takes her hand and tps her to Octagon and Cn. The two of them were passing through a small park when the others appeared.

[Lie] - CN...

[CN] Runs for Lie and hugs her-

[Lie] - Shhh, it's okay, I know it hurt

[CN] Is sniffling-

[Lie] - Thank you for helping him Octagon

[Octagon] Well... I didn't help much. I kinda had to drop him to end the game...

[Lie] - I see, I'm going to guess he shifted forms to avoid the lava?

[CN] Hugs Lie a bit closer as she rubs his back-

[Octagon] Yes. He set off several accusations of cheating and hacking.

[Lie] - Oh CN...  I'm sorry, he's never really interacted with players before and he's never died before either

[Octagon] Well he's welcome to play, he just needs to stick to safer things.

[Enix] Wait, he's not lava-proof?

[Lie] - What games would be alright?  And no, he's not

[Octagon] Makes an expansive gesture, - this is a good place to start. - The park around them has several groups of kids playing. Some are doing parkour on little obstacle courses, and others are clearly playing tag or hide and seek- There's a hedge maze too, people like to see who can solve it the fastest.

[Lie] - Alright, maybe next time.  I think somebody has had enough excitement for now

[Octagon] I understand. Kids get overwhelmed.

[Enix] One's first death is also no small thing.

[Lie] - Yes, I remember my only death so far, I'd never wish it on anybody.  Thank you for letting us visit- She creates a way home and the other two get a brief image of spawn as Lie passes through with CN

[CN] After a couple of hours he flies over to Firebirds tree-

-Firebird's sitting in one of the higher spots writing in a book, His tail dangles down like a brightly colored banner,-

[CN] Spots the tail and make a beeline for it. He turns back mid air and barrels into Firebird, pulling him into a hug-

[Firebird] Woah CN! -Nearly falls backwards as CN slams into him, but doesn't. He hugs CN back with one arm- What's up with you?

[CN] Looks up, his eyes still red from crying- I... I died...

[Firebird] Oh dear... I'm sorry you had to experience that.. I don't like it either..

[CN] - I was playing a game with some... With some players and beneath the snow was lava! I tried to fly away! They all started calling me a hacker!

[Firebird] Players can be like that... It's alright... -pets CN- Players don't see us the way we do.

[CN] - It hurt so much, and that other NOTCH made me fall into it...

[Firebird] He did what? -Angry bird? Angry bird-

[CN] - He said that was the only way to end the game...

[Firebird] I doubt that...

[CN] - That's what he said! He's on the server next door if you don't believe me!

[Firebird] I'll have to have some words with them...

[CN] Snuggles in closer to Firebirds side- Can I stay here tonight?- He's still a bit shaken up

[Firebird] Of course you can. Do you want to stay up here with me? Or do you want a bed?

[CN] - I'll stay up here...

[Firebird] Alright. -Shifts around so he can keep writing with CN in his lap-

[patriotsnet]

Are There Any Republicans Challenging Trump

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/are-there-any-republicans-challenging-trump/

Are There Any Republicans Challenging Trump

The 2024 Republican Presidential Candidate Wild Cards

Is There Any Republican That Would Actually Run Against Trump?

The first Democratic debate back in 2019 had 20 TWENTY! candidates, so dont be surprised if the Republican field is just as large or larger. We could have some more governors or representatives run, or even other nontraditional candidates, like a Trump family member, a Fox News host or a celebrity, like Dwayne The Rock Johnson, whos said hes seriously considering a run. Stranger things have happened.

Why Challenging Trump Is So Hard For Republicans

Cross President Donald Trump? It could mean the end of your career.

A year and a half into Trumps presidency, Republicans are learning now more than ever that the GOP is Trumps party and thats leading to some tough choices.

From trade policy to primary endorsements, the Presidents positions even if they challenge long-established Republican orthodoxy are redefining what it means to be a part of the GOP.

After a stunning loss Tuesday night, South Carolina Republican Rep. Mark Sanford became the latest casualty in the fight for the GOPs future. A member of the conservative House Freedom Caucus, Sanford exemplified the conservative, less-government philosophy that was once the cornerstone of the party. But, in the eyes of voters, Sanfords free-wielding jabs at Trump, his candid comments about the Presidents leadership style, overshadowed any allegiance he had to conservative principles.

Mark Sanford is a true conservative. Hes one of these guys that when he talks about what I believe our ideology is, he believes it. And he can speak to it intelligently, said retiring Rep. Tom Rooney, a Republican from Florida. The fact that somebody whos a true conservative cant win a primary in South Carolina, a member of the Freedom Caucus, just goes to show whats more important. Whats more important obviously is loyalty to Trump.

Georgia And Arizona Senators Show Progressive

Walker, the 1982 Heisman Trophy winner and a Wrightsville, Ga., native, has long lived in Texas after a professional football career that ended in Dallas, but he changed his voter registration last week to an Atlanta house owned by his wife, Julie Blanchard. Blanchard is under investigation by the Georgia secretary of states office over potential illegal voting after The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reported she voted in Georgia despite living in Texas.

Walker has also repeated false claims of voter fraud in the 2020 election despite elections officials finding no evidence of widespread fraud that affected the outcome.

Its unclear when Walker will make a formal Senate announcement. The campaign paperwork filed Tuesday ends months of speculation about his political plans, including a prediction in June from Trump that the former football star would soon suit up for the Republican primary.

He told me hes going to, and I think he will, Trump said on the conservative talk radio Clay Travis and Buck Sexton Show. Hes a great guy. Hes a patriot. And hes a very loyal person, hes a very strong person. They love him in Georgia, Ill tell you.

Some national Republicans have been wary of Walkers candidacy, though. The first-time candidate comes with potential baggage that could harm his chances in both the primary and general elections, including his Texas residency.

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Trump Challengers: 10 Republicans Who Could Run For President In 2020

Ryan Sit U.S.Donald TrumpMike PenceBen SasseBob Corker

President Donald Trump faced down a crowded field of GOP presidential hopefuls in 2016 as a political outsider, but he could see a packed stage of Republican challengers again in 2020only as an incumbent this time.

Trump made few political friends during his ascent to the White House. He made headlines making fun of his competition, doling out nicknameslow energy Jeb Bush,Little Marco Rubio,Lyin Ted Cruzalong the way. The presidents diplomatic dexterity hasnt noticeably improved much since taking office. Senators Rubio and Cruz have improved their relationship with Trump since his inauguration, but other lawmakers from within his party have emerged as outspoken critics, fueling speculation he may face a stiff presidential primary race in 2020.

Here are 10 Republicans who may challenge Trump:

Ohio Governor John Kasich

Kasich, like Fiorina, also may want another shot at the job. He was one of the candidates Trump felled in the 2016 primary. Despite that, he has remained dedicated to his vision for the GOP.

“I have a right to define what it means to be a conservative and what it means to be a Republican,” he told New York magazine in October. “I think my definition is a lot better than what the other people are doing.”

Voters didn’t take to his philosophy in 2016; Kasich managed to win only his home state. But unlike other Republicans who have spoken out against Trump and seen their polling numbers subsequently drop, Kasich’s constituency has remained supportive, the Washington Post noted.

Kasich also appears to have shifted his position on another presidential run. Asked on CNN’s State of the Union in March whether he would look to primary Trump, he repeatedly answered “no.” A month later Kasich shifted, saying it was “very unlikely” he would seek higher office again.

Then in May, just a couple weeks later, he told Bill Maher he doesn’t know what his plans are.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said, talking about a 2020 run. “I’m going to keep a voice, but I can’t predict to youI never thought I would be governor, I never thought I’d go back into politics.”

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Sen Marco Rubio Of Florida

Like Cruz, Rubio would enter the 2024 presidential race with heightened name ID and experience from his 2016 run. One of Rubios biggest challenges, though, could be his fellow Floridians. If DeSantis and fellow Sen. Rick Scott run, there could be just one ticket out of Florida, a Republican strategist said.

Rubio, 49, is married to Jeanette Dousdebes and they have four children. He graduated from the University of Florida and University of Miami School of Law and was speaker of the Florida House of Representatives before running for U.S. Senate in 2010.

Former Secretary Of State Mike Pompeo

If the 2024 election turns into a foreign policy debate, the 57-year-old Pompeo is in a strong position with his background as former secretary of state and CIA director.

During Pompeos recent speech at the Westside Conservative Club in Urbandale, Iowa, he gave a preview of some of the lines that might end up in his presidential stump speech. He said hes spent more time with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un than any other American, including basketball star Dennis Rodman, and talked about the threat he sees from China. His mention of the U.S. moving its embassy in Israel to Jerusalem during his tenure was met with applause.

Before serving in Trumps Cabinet, Pompeo blasted then-candidate Trump as an authoritarian. Pompeo made the remarks the day of the Kansas caucus in 2016, quoting Trump saying that if he told a soldier to commit a war crime, they would go and do it. Pompeo said the U.S. had spent 7½ years with an authoritarian president who ignored the Constitution, referencing former President Barack Obama, and we dont need four more years of that.

Pompeo served three full terms representing Kansas in the U.S. House before joining the Trump administration. He and his wife, Susan, have one child. He graduated from the U.S. Military Academy and Harvard Law and served in the U.S. Army.

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Potential 2024 Republican Presidential Candidates

Though were still more than 1,300 days away from the 2024 presidential election, potential candidates are already making stops in early caucus and primary states and working behind the scenes to prepare for a possible run.

Late last month, C-SPAN kicked off its Road to the White House coverage with a speech by former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo in Iowa, and former Vice President Mike Pence is scheduled to give the keynote at a dinner for a social conservative group in South Carolina on April 29.

Number Of Recounts: 3

US election: Judge dismisses Trump Pennsylvania lawsuit as âwithout meritâ?

Georgia held two recounts of its presidential election results, both reaffirming Biden’s win in the state. Wisconsin had one recount that;confirmed Biden’s victory there.

The first recount in Georgia; a hand recount ordered by the state; found Biden won by;12,284 votes, a narrower margin than the 14,196-vote lead he held immediately following the election. Local election administrators identified uncounted ballots in four counties. Each was the result of human error.

The second recount in Georgia; one requested by the Trump campaign; narrowed Biden’s victory to 11,779 votes;

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Former Vice President Mike Pence

Historically, experience as Veep isnt a bad launching pad for the presidency. Six former vice presidents went on to become president, including, of course, President Joe Biden, and an additional five won their partys nomination. For 61-year-old Pence, though, the upside of his time as vice president is more of an open question.

Trumps 2020 pollster Tony Fabrizio found that if the former president doesnt run in the 2024 election, his supporters gravitate most to Pence, DeSantis and Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas, so there is plenty of support there. But on Jan. 6, when Pence announced Biden as the winner of the 2020 election, he complicated things.

Hes got this tricky position, said Steven Webster, and assistant professor of political science at Indiana University Bloomington. I think increasingly the base of the Republican Party is aligned with Donald Trump, and Mike Pence is really seen with hostility by Trumps base, simply for performing his constitutional duty on the 6th.

Pence appears to be well aware of the predicament. Earlier this month, he published an op-ed voicing his concern over supposed voting irregularities in the 2020 election, though he didnt mention any specifically. Trumps own administration said the election was the most secure in American history.

Pence and his wife, Karen, have three children. Pence is a former conservative radio host who served seven terms in the U.S. House before becoming governor of Indiana.

Shes No 2: Report Claims Kamala Harris Staff Feels They Are Treated Like St

The Democratic officials who spoke to Axios said that in addition to Harrishandling of high-profile issues and political tone deafness, they fear shes been given bad advice by her press and communications people.

Harris still has her defenders, including senior adviser and chief spokesperson Symone Sanders, as well as White House senior adviser Cedric Richmond, who accused unnamed people of carrying out a whisper campaign designed to sabotage her.

At some point it just becomes, one person says something long enough and it becomes an urban legend. It doesnt have to be credible. It doesnt have to be real. Someone says something and it can just snowball, Richmond told Axios, later adding: Youd just hope if theres a legitimate criticism theyd put their name next to it.

Meanwhile, White House Chief of Staff Ron Klain offered unreserved praise for Harris, telling Axios she was off to the fastest and strongest start of any Vice President I have seen.

At a news conference Friday, White House press secretary Jen Psaki called Harris an incredibly important partner to the President of the United States. She has a challenging job, a hard job, and she has a great, supportive team of people around her.

But other than that, Psaki added, Im not going to have any more comments on those reports.

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Republicans Not Named Trump Who Could Run In 2024

A growing number of Republicans are already jockeying ahead of 2024 as they await former President TrumpDonald TrumpCapitol Police officer who shot Ashli Babbitt says he saved lives on Jan. 6Biden presses Fox’s Doocey about Trump-Taliban dealBiden says deadly attack won’t alter US evacuation mission in AfghanistanMOREs decision on another possible White House run.

While Trump has not confirmed whether he will launch a third presidential bid, he has repeatedly teased the idea since losing the election in 2020.

I’m absolutely enthused. I look forward to doing an announcement at the right time, Trump said earlier this month. As you know, it’s very early. But I think people are going to be very, very happy when I make a certain announcement.

But that hasnt stopped speculation from building around other high-profile Republicans seen as potential heirs apparent to the former president.

Here are nine Republicans not named Trump who could run for president in 2024.

Ron DeSantisBiden’s stumble on Afghanistan shouldn’t overshadow what he’s accomplished so farMaskless dad assaulted student who confronted him, police sayTampa Bay residents asked to conserve water to conserve COVID-19 oxygen supplyMORE

DeSantis came in second place behind Trump in the Conservative Political Action Conference straw poll in Orlando earlier this year.

DeSantis, who is running for reelection in 2022, also offered a preview of whats to come in his political future.

Rick Scott

How Biden Won: Ramping Up The Base And Expanding Margins In The Suburbs

It brings the number of states Biden flipped from Trumps 2016 column to five, including Arizona, which last voted Democratic in a presidential race when it backed Clinton in 1996.

Biden also flipped Michigan, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, three key northern industrial states that ultimately delivered the White House to Trump four years ago. Biden also won a single electoral vote in Nebraskas 2nd Congressional District, which last voted Democratic for former President Barack Obama in 2008.

Electors from each state and the District of Columbia are expected to vote on Dec. 14. The new Congress will then count the votes and certify Bidens victory on Jan. 6, two weeks before the inauguration.

But Georgias political activity is far from over. The state will hold two runoff elections on Jan. 5 for both its U.S. Senate seats, which are currently held by Republicans.

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None Of Them Can Win But They Could Play Spoiler

Remember when half of American white males over the age of 40 declared themselves for the Republican presidential nomination in 2016? There were so many candidates that they couldn’t fit them all on two packed debate stages. One guy stayed in after receiving a grand total of 12 votes in the Iowa caucuses; in New Hampshire, Jim Gilmore’s showing improved to 133, an unprecedented 1,000 percent increase. Reader: He didn’t withdraw for another six days.

Since Donald Trump is our incumbent president, and will thus almost surely be the GOP nominee in 2020, we should be spared a repeat, and really ought to be able to give our undivided attention to the approximately 437 mostly Social Security-eligible senators, governors, congressmen, mayors, and billionaire activists looking to run on the Democratic ticket in 2020. Unfortunately, Trump will almost certainly be challenged, either in the ostensibly meaningless Republican primaries or by one or more independent right-of-center candidates.

Stephen Bannon thinks 2020 will be a proper three-way race. #NeverTrumpers are already ferreting around for someone to challenge the president for the GOP nomination. “I just finished reading a book about the French resistance. It reminds me of that. People are meeting over their garages their ateliers trying to figure out who’s going to do it,” one of them toldNew York recently.

Here are five people who might just fit the bill.

1. John Kasich

Chance of running: 80 percent

2. Jeff Flake

General Election Candidates On Five Or More Ballots

In addition to Biden, Hawkins, Jorgensen, and Trump, the following candidates have qualified to appear on five or more ballots:

Roque De La Fuente ; Gloria La Riva ; Jade Simmons ; Jesse Ventura/Cynthia McKinney ; Sheila Tittle ; Kyle Kenley Kopitke ; Ricki Sue King/Dayna Chandler ;

Incumbents are bolded and underlined The results have been certified.

Total votes: 158,379,904

0 states have not been called.

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Former President Donald Trump

Trump told Fox News host Sean Hannity that he made up his mind about whether hell run for the 2024 Republican presidential nomination again, but he didnt say what the answer is, keeping the 2024 field open, for now.

The former president held his first post-White House rally in Ohio on June 26 the first since his inflammatory Jan. 6 Save America rally that preceded the failed insurrection attempt at the U.S. Capitol by his supporters. Trump called it the first rally of the 2022 election, but no cable news network carried it live, not even Fox News.

The rally came in the middle of a busy few days in June for Trump. Trumps personal attorney Rudy Giuliani had his law license suspended in the state of New York over his false and misleading claims about the 2020 election, and a week ago, The Trump Organization and its Chief Financial Officer Allen Weisselberg were indicted on tax fraud charges and accused as part of a two-year investigation that began when Trump was still in office. Weisselberg and lawyers for the Trump Organization both pleaded not guilty.

The former president has reportedly told others that he wont have to wait until 2024 to return to the White House. The New York Times and other news outlets have reported that Trump expects to be reinstated as president by August.

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[cutecutebibaforever]

July 2, 2021

Central Europe Time

5:45pm

"Nag suicide si Dian"

So, okay, at the back of my mind says,

she will survive, she is strong, she will make it.

Apparently, when I was settled on the assigned seat, few of our close friends and schoolmates at SMAD messaged me and ask and sent screenshots about the incident.

Because I really had a rough day battling the Spanish bureacracy today, I did not mind it. I have always been a victim of pranks and "what nots" in real life, so yeah, I didn't mind actually.

Then again, opening messages in facebook messenger every now and then is my thing now and completely settled in with my seat number, I opened them up. My cousin Felni confirmed it with mama Jeb, Walter and Kurt in the GC. I literally felt my heart stopped and think about the last time Dian and I talked and exchanged banters and reminiscing the old us comparing to the new generation.

I fondly call her "Tot" because it is my secret pet name to my original sister who has the same name, Dyantot. "Tot" became my endearment for her and she called me C2 (meaning CuteCute, Cute squared. LOL) HAHAHA!

Dian and I had been through a lot and only a few people knew that. She became the sister I have always wanted, near or far.

I got to know her my sixth grade and continued the friendship in high school where we created so much memories together. Memories about annoying the RVM sisters, competing with batches, intramurals, JS proms when she would be challenged to wear a gown and makeup and CAT training with Sir Pat and former CAT officers which we considered really close.

The CAT training for me was the most memorable in our high school together. We had so much fun annoying the elders with our endless banters, being serious with the task at hand, collaborating with the group, bringing out strategies to win, alas, if I could only go back to that moment, nothing compares. My batchmates can really relate. That moment became the defining moment of our sisterhood when we were 14. It was such a lovely memory that when we got to talk about it, it seems like it was just last year.

I am writing this with so much pain because she has nothing more than the real friend I had. One of the very few who totally understood my choices of men, bizarre plans, impossible dreams coming true and so on. We literally grew up together.

Our twenty years of friendship consisted surely of fights, sharing happiness and sadness, life's milestone and dreaming about what is to come. We bullied each other and had unsimilar discussions because of our differences yet we got past through it in surfing adulthood with responsibilities, dreams being set aside because of bigger priorities, goals yet to be achieved and so much more.

I am particularly sure that you would agree (to those who really got to know her and our circle) that she was the life of the party.

She was the person who would let you stay at a party and going home won't even matter because discussing with her is an endless mixture of jokes, sarcasm, satires and real life learning and experiences.

I remember she had a great respect for my father that we always get to keep our shenanigans privately in college because I had to pretend to my father that I am not drinking, partying and dating.

I am writing this because Dian opened up to me her most vulnerable state all throughout this pandemic. I listened to her about her frustrations of not being able to practice her license that forced her to make a different path because she wanted to help her family even in little ways. This to me, is very heroic. I haven't really been in a situation where I really have to support a family member 100% so I admire her for this. She was everyone's hero and she played it really well not minder her own pain, frustrations and incapabilities.

One time in April, she called me crying because somebody hurt her and she was in pain, she was emotional that I cried with her too. That video call actully ended with our usual gloating laughter. HAHAHA! She would always be there for you, one call, and she's there. I kid you not.

All througout May and June, we were endlessly chatting in instagram and confessing that she took her long-time partner back even if she had trust issues on her own. I was mad and told her to cut connections but she said, she loved her to much. So, I, the supportive friend encouraged her to always prioritized herself first (this is with screen shots). I told her adamantly that she needs to see the bigger picture of things in different perspectives because we are not getting any younger. That catch-up ended me saying "fine, I will be supportive only if you take care of yourself first.."

Furthermore, on her state of vulnerability, she opened up to so many of her expectations not being met by the people she expected along the way. She was confused, felt judged and neglected by these people she thought the shoulders she can cry on. I only told her to let go and cut connections of these people, but she ended up doing the opposite. That's what she was, stubborn yet respectful to my advices. This was so frustrating for me because I was so busy in 2019 that we never really got to hang out the way we were in college, drinking our hearts out, partying like we were invincible. Clubbing just because we had good grades in midterms and finals, odd summer getaways of staying at beach looking at the stars and shouting our hearts out to the ocean.

We only had chats, video calls since I moved to Spain.

Recently, (March-April 2021) she was bothered because she felt like a lot of people is expecting too much from her. She felt like she needs to explain her side of the story so that she won't be judged as the bad guy. I found this saddening. Most of the people she valued wanted her to be the person that she is not and she talked about it as if it was just nothing, like ordinary. I for once told her that it is mean and condescending of these people to expect you that way. Why would you keep these people who expected you to be not yourself? She just shrugged it off and we went back to the usual saying of "I love yous'" and "please take care" "see you soon".

I am still on the plane two more hours for Istanbul and I am crying nonstop 😭

I will be home without her, this is reality and it is piercing me. The supposed homecoming would be a saddening one because I lost a friend and a sister for hiding so well her mental health issues, her angst, her hurt and I felt at fault because I was not the constant listener.

Tot, I don't know what to say but I am sorry for not being there all the time. you were hiding it so well that nobody knew you are suffering. I was hoping to celebrate my life's winning moment with you because you were not just supportive but the tolerating friend no one could ever replace. I was excited to let you wear a white dress for the next chapter of my life real soon and this all the more makes me cry 😭

I could only wish to see you one more time but these circumstances that we are having now makes it so impossible (since I am in quarantine).

I owe so many things from you and I don't know how to accept your unfateful demise. I am heart broken and it will take a lot of time for me to move on but I will get there in time. God has His reasons we cannot possibly know why at this time of grief but I am faithful that God will restore you and take away your sufferings that you have been enduring for so long.

I love you is an understatement.

[sunflowerspectre]

Commission Piece | Bars and Bards

A commission for anon for their Dungeons and Dragons OCs.

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons Summary:  A mercenary that doubles as a bard and an adventurer that moonlights as a smuggler walk into a bar to learn elvish.  Word Count Requested: 2,500 - 5k Final Word Count: 4635

Bars and Bards

To be honest, it is  a fifty-fifty shot that Bayleaf will even enter the bar, nevertheless actually teach Dia elvish. Dia was adamant that they would pay him for it, but so far no coins have exchanged hands, which meant their deal is not exactly set in stone. But the party is going to be here for a while it seems and knowing how busy things could get, Dia doubts that they would get another chance to actually sit down and learn the language any time soon.

They shouldn’t really care this much about it, and they don’t, not really. But Dia doesn’t exactly like being inconvenienced when they make plans with someone, and they do want to learn elvish and finding a teacher whose willing is harder than they would like.

Their hand fiddles with the loose coin in their pocket, tracing over its engraved features. They wave the bartender over and make their order simple with the hopes that they won’t be waiting long.

“Diamond,” a vaguely familiar, but somewhat forgotten, voice calls out, smiling eagerly as he makes his way toward her.

Dia vaguely recalls his face, and when they stare at it long enough they can see the similarities between him and his cousin. Elam only introduced them once, offhandedly, when they got into town, as a cousin of his, and Dia is fairly sure that their name was only said once during the entire exchange. She has to give a bit of credit to him for remembering it considering she’s drawing a blank on the name Elam gave and vaguely wonders if Elam actually did give them his name.

“Jeb. We met before, remember? But you had your hands full with that party of yours, lotta new people comin’ in lately, but I don’t think any of ya will be stayin’ too long if you’re the adventuring sort, but some of these people ...”

He trails off a bit, but Dia nods in a somewhat understanding. A lot of new travelers can, at times, bring trouble. For them, it can be something that is easily taken care of with a knife, or a good kick to the head when needed. But for the locals - alone, orphaned locals, locals that can’t protect themselves -  Dia can imagine it could be a bit harder for them to tame the outlaws that come into town and trash it, or worse.

Then again, they’re not against being a hired hand or a hired guard if someone is truly troubled. Troublesome people in town can mean some good jobs - though the more Dia thinks about it, the more they realize that there are bound to be some good jobs and not just from the locals.

“Are you waiting for someone,” Jeb looks around, as if he could spot Bayleaf despite not knowing who Dia is waiting for, “Didn’t get stood up on a date, I hope.”

Dia snorts, almost breaking into a laugh, and gives Jeb a friendly smile, “No date, just a lesson plan. I’m just hoping my teacher comes before I have too much of the ale.”

Jeb gives a hearty laugh at that comment, “I don’t know, I think some folks learn a bit easier after they get a few drinks in them.”

Deciding that they can not really disagree with that logic, Dia nods in agreement as Jeb takes a seat next to her as he talks animatedly, his hands moving with each word. Dia listens as much as they can, but a few things go missed due to how fast Jeb talks, jumping from topic to topic before they can process the previous one. He talks loudly, with passion, and draws a few stares their way that Dia does their best to turn away from, shrinking from the attention.

Despite that, Jeb’s company is not completely unwelcome as he provides decent company and a conversation while Dia waits for their teacher. Dia comments on a few things here and there, but is content to just listen as they drink and eat their way through their order. Jeb eagerly tells them all about the town, which shopkeepers are easier to bargain with, which inns are the cheapest, and how some of the folk are more eager for a good trade than coin. Somehow, he manages to slip in town gossip between the helpful spouts of information that Dia could actually use since they are not too keen on knowing exactly which shopkeeper is having an affair.

Jeb stops their conversation, practically mid-rant, when he spots someone at the bar. He watches them closely with squinted eyes that wrinkle and crease before he seems to recognize them. He hops up with an apology, giving a friendly pat to Dia’s shoulder.

“Hand on, lil’ Diamond. I think I spot an ol’ friend over there and they have a habit of disappearin’ on me quick if I don’t stop ‘em. If that teacher of yours doesn’t show up soon, just give me a holler.”

Dia watches him depart to the opposite side of the bar, waving toward a man who looks surprised - and mildly uncomfortable - at spotting Jeb. She snorts over the edge of her mug and after a moment of watching the way that the other man is trying to slide away from Jeb’s hug, they turn their attention toward the door as if Bayleaf will walk through any second now that they do not have any present company.

Dia vaguely wonders just how much longer they should hold up their hope that Bayleaf will come. If Bayleaf stands them up, they would have more than a few choice words to say to him. Maybe they could try to get Bayleaf to pay off the bar tab if they play their cards right, as a matter of respect.

Dia’s eyes nonchalantly wander around the bar, taking in its patrons. They spot two people in the dark corner that seem like they are about two full pints away from having a really good time together. Dia keeps their gaze on them for a good moment before giving the two strangers privacy when their tongues start to lock on each other. They give the pair about ten minutes before it gets so risue that the staff will kick them out; granted this means that the staff would actually have to notice them first.

Dia spots another pair that’s not getting along as well in the opposite corner and they can catch enough of the conversation to know what’s going on. Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to put it together when the more feminine of the pair slaps the other and slams a piece of a rejected jewelry on the counter before storming out of the bar. Dia snorts when it takes all but two minutes before the one left is flirting with the curvy barmaid.

No one else in the bar holds more than about ten seconds of their attention. Two passed out drunk and about five others looking about one pint away from doing the same. A few stumble in and out of the bar as the sun begins to set. If not for the good ale and at least edible food that isn’t rations, Dia would already be heading out as their hope of Bayleaf showing up dwindles rapidly.

Dia briefly spots Jeb again at the bar - his ‘old friend’ had apparently disappeared and Dia can’t spot them in the bar. They wonder if Jeb scared them off, or if Jeb’s short attention span had just shifted long enough for the man to escape. Either way, Jeb seems quite happy to talk the ear off the bartender, who nods as they clean a mug with a dirty rag. Jeb briefly catches their gaze and she raises her mug at him in acknowledgement and the gesture is returned with a slightly drunk smile.

Dia is about finished up the sandwich and they are already ordering a third thing of ale when Bayleaf strolls in through the doorway. His green curls barely brush against the edges of his shoulders, though it does not stop him from preening it like a bird strutting its feathers as he struts through the bar with his head head. But Dia finds the gleam in his eyes a bit hollow.

He gives a flirtatious wink to the barmaid handling a nearby table, making Dia roll their eyes at the way the barmaid giggles with flushed cheeks, before he finally takes a seat by Dia at the bar. He barely acknowledges Dia’s presence, not offering any form of greeting. Dia snorts at the way he sits on the stool, straight and stiff with his shoulders pulled back as if he is carrying a weight that is heavier than just his hair. Alternatively, the weight on Dia’s shoulders becomes lighter as they relax into their seat.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Dia comments casually, the mug in their swaying as they speak.

Bayleaf eyes the drink, briefly wondering just how much they have had. While he wouldn’t necessarily care if Dia got hammered, he is not a big fan of trying to teach a new language to a drunk; not to mention that as sloppy as drunks are, they are more likely to try something. Though, it could be an act, a way for him to relax in a bar of an unfamiliar town with unfamiliar people.

“I’m an elf of my word, you offered to pay me to teach you elvish, so here I am.”

He leans back in his seat as he gestures toward himself with a wave of a polished hand. He catches the eye of the barman, trying to nod him over, but the barman either does not notice, or is choosing to ignore him. Thick eyebrows furrow as he sits up straighter, tapping the bar as a way to signal he’s wanting a drink.

“You’re pretty late for someone who is so eager to get paid.”

Dia takes a large drink of their ale, but Bayleaf just eyes them from the corner of his eyes with a sly grin.

“I can’t be late if a certain someone only gave me a location and not a time.”

Dia does not bother to argue, they thought it was pretty obvious that they wanted him there before sundown, but it was never explicitly said. Details are always everything in the world that they live in, with everyone’s second nature is knowing how to find loopholes and fuck over the person you’re ‘partners’ with. They should know better than to expect anything better from a hired helping hand.  But still, he showed up, didn’t he?

Dia shifts their pockets before tossing him a small bag of coins. Bayleaf catches it easily, feeling the weight in his palm before looking at Dia with a raised brow.

“You’ll get the rest after you teach me.”

“And what if you happen to be unteachable?”

It would say more about you as a teacher than me as a student, Dia can’t help but to think. They don’t know anything about Bayleaf’s teaching ability, but Dia has been wanting this for a long time. The usefulness of actualling knowing elvish varies greatly, it’s something that they are actually excited for. They are more than willing to put in the work if he is.

Dia meets his gaze evenly, and for a moment, the idea of letting their eyes change into their natural form passes through their mind. It would be easy to let the dark void roll over their eyes. The level of intimidation and fear that the sheer endless darkness in their eyes could cause are tempting. But the idea of scaring off the only person willing to teach them elvish, however, is a different matter - so is them seeing her for what she is but she swallows that down and tells themselves that the cost of intimidation is just the loss of a teacher and nothing more.

They settle for a harsh glare.

“I’m a fast learner.”

Bayleaf stares for a moment, looking them over as if he is debating something. He spots the harsh serious gleam in their eyes and is almost relieved to see that Dia is not playing an odd joke on him. They’re serious. Dead serious.  If Dia really is going to want to learn (and he is getting paid), he may as well try his best to teach them. And if good teaching earns him a little extra when it’s all said and done then...

“Alright. We’ll get started as soon as I actually manage to get a drink.”

Bayleaf’s mild frustration toward the lack of service begins to seep into his tone and voice, and it does not go unnoticed by Dia. Dia glances over toward Jeb, who despite being in an animated conversation with the bartender looks their way tentatively. His eyes don’t seem to have the same spark in them when he looks over Bayleaf, his eyes focusing too long on the ears, before he gives Dia a hesitant smile and turns back to his conversation. The bartender, however, looks their way but their lips thin and they don’t give any sign of acknowledgement as they turn back to Jeb.

“Oi,” Dia whistles sharply and they relish, just a bit, in the way it makes the bartender jump, “Need another drink over here.”

The bartender seems to snap toward them as if he had just remembered that Dia is sitting at the bar. He doesn’t even glance toward Bayleaf, settling instead on focusing simply on Dia, who has their mug tipped his way. He refills it quickly, but still hasn’t acknowledged the man beside them.

“Him too,” Dia nods toward Bayleaf, who looks at them with a bit of caution. Dia glances at him through the corner of their eyes and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, continues.  “Add it to my tab.”

Their comment takes Bayleaf a bit off guard, but he is not about to argue against a free drink. The bartender turns toward Bayleaf tentatively, as if he doesn’t know how to act or what to say. His eyes are drawn to Bayleaf’s brashly colored hair before he focuses on the sharp point of Bayleaf’s ears.

“I don’t know what you elves like to drink,” the bartender’s tone is not quite friendly enough for Dia’s tastes as their knuckles go white against the handle of their mug.

Bayleaf rolls his shoulders to loosen the tension that is threatening to build up. Unfortunately, there is little he can do about the throbbing that is forming at his temples.

“I don’t know about other elves, but give me the hardest ale you have.”

Bayleaf’s tone is tense as he makes his order, but the bartender just gives a forced smile that puts Bayleaf on edge. He has a feeling that with the way this evening is going so far, he is going to need a few of the hardest ales they have.

“Ah so this is the teacher you’ve been waiting for.”

Jeb pops up and breaks the tense silence that was beginning to fall across them. He seems oblivious to any tension, even though even he eyes Bayleaf with caution. Despite the fact that Jeb’s hand easily goes to Dia’s shoulder, he seems careful to not touch Bayleaf.

“She’s been waiting for you, you know,” Jeb mildly scolds, “It’s not very nice to keep a pretty young lady waiting at the bar.”

Oh yes, Bayleaf is definitely going to have a headache before the night is over.

“Well if the pretty young lady had happened to give me a time then she wouldn’t have been waiting for so long.”

Bayleaf sends a pointed look in her direction, but Dia waves the comment off as Jeb looks him over with careful consideration before breaking out into a grin. He slaps Dia’s back so hard that it nearly tumbles them over.

“Ha! Well, can’t argue with that!”

Bayleaf squints, furrowing his brows before glancing toward Dia and mouthing a question, who is he? Dia shrugs and the vague answer only causes the hackles on Bayleaf’s neck to rise before Dia continue with a more direct answer.

Jeb. Elam Cousin. That made a bit more sense, Bayleaf can vaguely remember Elam sort of introducing them, and it at least puts Bayleaf at a little of ease now that he knows why Jeb looks so familiar.

“Well, I won’t get in the way of your lessons! I’m always here at the bar if you ever need any friendly local guide!”

At the realization that Jeb is always here, Bayleaf just knows that he will most definitely get in the way of the lessons.

_________________________________

The next week is full of slow words and carefully drawn elvish letters over drinks as the bar begins to become their regular spot to go over their lessons, with neither of them wanting to deal with any heckling from their party if they did it at camp. Of course, all of the ale that is at their ready is only a plus.

Bayleaf does not like to think too hard about what their tab looks like. After the first night, Dia made it clear that them buying his drinks is not going to be a regular thing since they are already paying him for lessons.  Though opening a tab with the bartender proved to be a hassle, though Dia’s surprising vouch for him helped considerably, Bayleaf imagines that his own tab is at least a few good jobs worth by now. Dia’s tab is likely even higher.

They don’t sit at the bar, settling on the most well-lit table that they could find. After making sure the table’s counter is free of vomit, wet spots and other unknown substances, Bayleaf spreads out their supplies of papers and quills and the lesson begins.

“What’s this word,” Dia points to a word that Bayleaf had written down earlier.

“ Please,” Bayleaf repeats the word in both elvish and common.

Dia repeats the word a bit sloppily, but fixes their pronunciation quickly. “ Please…. Why the fuck are you teaching me please?”

Dia’s hands move as they speak, barely missing their nearby mug. Bayleaf takes that moment to grab it, moving it further away from both Dia’s constantly moving hands and the limited amount of paper with a grimace. Until Dia buys the supplies themselves, he will be sure to keep the drinks a more suitable distance away.

“Because you need to learn your basics and some damn manners.”

Bayleaf waves a barmaid over offhandedly, already needing another drink.

“I have manners.”

Dia’s voice speaks of pride, and a touch of hurt, their chest puffed out.

“Limited manners, maybe, but knowing what to say to get you what you want isn’t the same thing.”

Dia visibly deflates, but hides it as best as they can despite the tenseness in their shoulders and the lock of their jaw. A part prepares for the worst, for the judgement, or a scolding while the other half already has a few smart comments and choice words at the tip of their tongue ready.

But Bayleaf meets Dia’s eyes without a sense of judgement despite the bit of frustration that seeps into his tone. He speaks simply, as if he’s just stating the facts, and he should. There’s no point in trying to act as if either of them are decent living beings. He knows exactly the type of person Dia is and they are dangerous. They both are.

“Speaking the way you do won’t work the same in Elvish. Traditional elves especially. The former speech, manners, honorifics and knowing exactly the right grammer, is how you get what you want. Being overly polite gets you a lot farther than just normal manners. If you want me to teach you elvish, then this is where we are starting.”

Despite the fact that his patience is beginning  to wear thin, Bayleaf tries his best to explain as simple as he can as he reminds himself that he still needs the other half of his ‘tutoring’ payment. Dia settles down at his comment at least, merely frowning sightly as Bayleaf whispers a quick thank you to the barmaid for the new drink.

“And for fuck’s sake, Dia, we aren’t even a week into this,” Bayleaf reminds them as he takes a much needed drink.

___________________________

A month into their lessons, Dia can at least carry a simple conversation. Their trips on words are limited, but perfection with simple words is the foundation for learning the language. But Bayleaf supposes that it is something and while simple, it is at least above a small child’s level. The more he can teach Dia, the higher his second payment is going to be.

The hardest part, he quickly finds out, is that conversing in elvish with Dia is difficult when neither of them want to say the first word.

“How’s the lessons going,” Jeb doesn’t even hesitate to sit down at their table.  “I’m still not sure what language it is, but I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time.”

“It’s elvish and it’s more complicated than it looks.”

Bayleaf’s eyes darken, glancing over at Dia as if he can’t believe that they divulge that information so easily and quickly. Though if Dia notices his glare, they don’t comment on it. With a tense sigh, he glances toward Jeb, who in turn, is looking over the elvish written on the papers. His brows are furrowed and he tries to mouth some of the letters, despite how wrong he is on what they supposedly sound like.

“Well,” Jeb begins and Bayleaf finds himself hoping that Jeb isn’t going to try to read the script aloud and butch it, but Jeb just laughs, “It definitely looks complicated, can’t make heads or tails of it! If she’s making such good progress, makes me wonder if she’s just that good of a student or are you that good of a teacher?”

Bayleaf doesn’t offer a reply, unsure of how to respond and how sincere Jeb’s statement is, but Dia takes the reigns as they glance between Jeb and Bayleaf.

“Both,” Dia finally settles on and it satisfies Jeb, who takes it in stride with a smile.

But the comment stays in Bayleaf’s head even as Jeb leaves and they continue their lesson.

Three months into their lessons, Dia is speaking more fluently than Bayleaf actually thought that they would be capable of. Not quite perfect, and he highly doubts that Dia will be giving any big, inspirational monologues in elvish just yet, but it is more than he expected of them. Their accent still needed a bit of tweaking and he needs to focus their lessons more on writing the elvish letters now.

Dia sits at the table, talking more in elvish than Bayleaf had heard them even speak in common. He sits back and just listens, offering a few corrections here and there that they catch on quickly, taking each correction with stride.

He watches them carefully, noting the ignited fire in their eyes and the passion they speak each word with.  He closes his eyes, just listening to Dia speak and offering soft-spoken corrections until he hears the familiar heart laugh of Jeb. He debates about opening his eyes to check when he hears someone pulling up a chair at their table, but he doesn’t need to check when he hears Jeb’s voice.

“I thought this was supposed to be a study lesson, not nap time!”

Bayleaf hears Dia’s  soft chuckle and he sighs, “Don’t encourage him, Dia, or he’ll never leave.”

Bayleaf’s eyes shot open as Jeb slaps him on his back hard enough to knock the wind of him. Bayleaf coughs, trying to get the air back into his lungs, glaring lightly at the way both Dia and Jeb begin to laugh.

“HA! You know you don’t want me to leave!”

______________________________________

It was a bad day for the both of them, a job not going as well as they would have liked makes their lessons tense and full of frustration with their conversations being short and crass. When it’s clear that Dia isn’t even trying to write the letters correctly, Bayleaf snaps at them harshly, wondering what is the point of them being there if they’re not even going to try.

Dia doesn’t meet Bayleaf’s gaze, refusing to look in his direction as they fiddle with the string necklace around their neck.

Bayleaf glances at Jeb when the man comes by with a hesitant expression, sitting down at their table with three fresh mugs of ale in his hand. He looks between them, as if he’s trying to decide what happened while he was gone with furrowed brows. Bayleaf immediately takes the offered mug with relish, chugging half of it in one go while Dia’s mug sits untouched.  However, when the barmaid brings by another plate of PBJ sandwiches, the entire plate is completely claimed by Dia.

“That’s the third plate of sandwiches,” Jeb breaks the silence, “I didn’t know adventurers had such big appetites.”

Jeb gives a full bellied laugh as he tries to take one of the sandwiches, only to have his hand swatted away by Dia.

“He’s right,” Bayleaf comments nonchalantly, “I didn’t think you would be such a big fan of those.”

Dia stops mid-bite, setting their food down with a grimace before they look toward Bayleaf with eyes that look a bit too haunted. He knows that look - the melancholic, reminiscing gleam in the eyes when memories surface in your mind and you’re struggling to figure out if you’re going to swim through the waves or drown in them.

He oddly wonders just which decision Dia will make.

“They just bring back memories,” Dia’s voice is rough and dry.

They don’t offer any explanation beyond that and they don’t need to as Bayleaf puts away their supplies and decides the night is better spent getting hammered, a decision that Jeb is more than happy with as he calls out for the bartender to bring them something harder than ale.

When their lessons are finished,  Dia hands him a small pouch and immediately, Bayleaf can feel the heavier difference between this batch of coins and the first. When he looks at her questioningly, Dia just offers a half-hearted shrug and a small smile.

“You’re a good teacher.”

The sincerity in their voice takes him back and he’s still stunned when Dia pats him on the back as they leave the bar to join the rest of their party. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and heads to the bar. The last few jobs have paid well and he doesn’t plan on leaving his tab open when it’s no skin off his back to pay it off while he can.

But he’s not prepared when the bartender shakes off the payment, refusing to take it as he shakes his head.

“Oh no, that odd lil’ thing with the gray hair paid for both of your tabs.”

The bartender is quick to shut the conversation off, making it clear that he’s not too interested in having a long conversation with the elf. The bartender turns his back to Bayleaf as he turns to the paying customers, one of which is Jeb.

Jeb gives him a big, sloppy grin and wave, trying to usher him over to join him, but Bayleaf can’t quite bring himself to drink as a heavy stone settles at the bottom of his gut as it turns. Bayleaf swallows thickly as he puts his money back into his pouch. Dia paying off his tab leaves him with more worries than relief, wondering just what they could want in return.

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