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#and the person who was supposed to work on it showed a preview
xcrust · 2 months
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Paint the Town Red [PREVIEW]
I seriously haven't written due to having an education but for my story i want to give you improvement and quality content. So I am not making you all wait too long here is a preview of the next chapter. If there is anything that you feel is needed and note you would want to offer then i would love for you to throw it my way
FULL STORY HERE
All the latest chapters and previous is at that link!!!
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Looking between the mirror in front of you, reflecting In the soft glow of dawn's embrace, (Y/n) stood before the ornate mirror that adorned her room. The morning sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a warm radiance upon them as they examined her reflection. It wasn't the typical admiration one might associate with vanity; rather, it was an introspective gaze that transcended the surface.
As they lifted a lock of hair, the sunlight or rather the glimmer caught the subtle highlights, reminiscent of the glimmers of hope that had guided them through the darkest nights. The relationship between their parents isn't inherently bad. But the isolating feeling never evolved or made anything better. This dark world was something that was all you knew. Inherently when it came to your view of humans it had to be a little different from your older sister. All humans are made corrupt. No matter the family a person is raised from. Though what allows hell borns to be condemned to whatever flock shows up. It is a harsh ideal but with so much bad coming from earth then how could someone even have a belief that earth is all that good when it's corrupting the supposed bad.
Nevertheless the people that showed up from earth kept the seven rings entertained the more time went on. In fact if it weren't for earth then you wouldn't be in the situation that you are now. You couldn't remember the last time you had dinner with your parents, Family dinners hadn't been a thing in a long time. So sitting across a little table of a cafe with the infamous radio demon for dinner is the last thing that would have been imagined in your life.
“So my dearest! I want to know everything about you and what makes you tick” Closing your new pocket mirror you glance at him before going to pick at your clothes,  the bunny painted in red stares at you with a charming look in his eye. 
“Alastor, you're going all out for a person like me. But what is it that you want.” curiosity might have killed the cat but in hell its survival of the fittest. Between you and him, that's an easy feat for you but survival in getting higher in the food chain? Well that's some grounds you need to work on. 
“ Heavens me, or should I say hells me? HA can't a guy get to know another fella?” His burgundy pinstripe suit made your weakness to elegant things. In your heart you are truly someone that cannot be so easily deterred by another. If leaving the Morningstar household didnt prove it. Maybe working on social skills might be the first thing to work on. 
“Who are you kidding? What?! Did you want to talk to my dad? Sorry to best your bubble but i'm making a nam-”
“Hush now” he quipped in “now what are you assuming on today” taking out a pocket watch from his top pocket. The ticking being comically loud. Being in hell should have you used to an odd face every once in a while. But looking at him felt like a lost cartoon. “As ive said before, i know nothing about you. You've just got a nifty little… look to you”  There goes his smile again. It's so shameless.
“Yeah right” Being hell royalty should've put your name towards everyone that walks this street. 
“Sorry doll face, having such a smooth face in this area of town might just be the most interesting piece of plot in these parts” you let out a sudden hitch in your breath. Does he actually not know anything about you? Maybe the overlord title might be a lot harder than intended. “Now doll you're never fully dressed without a smile, now play nice” The grimace on your face might’ve just drowned in your thoughts hearing him say that. 
You couldn't make sense of his statement. An earthborn being known to you and probably the purest kind of entertainment in hell. Though if he didnt even know who you were then maybe this could be a better opportunity in the end. No phony respect. Something that would actually make a difference to yourself. Smoothing your expression into soft passiveness. 
“Say there, bunny tail, how about you and I take a stroll down the boulevard and paint the town red” 
 “Aren't you a tough nut to crack? Well who am I to deny a bona fide high roller”
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heartsofminds · 4 months
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and the songbirds are singing like they know the score - sneak peek
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"Because doing what’s best for her is hard, and he realizes that when he can feel his friend wanting to put him through a wall over the phone." or Jake calls the landline at 11 PM on a Thursday because his goddaughter is wasted and Bradley is less than thrilled.
A/N: in light of me finishing my second to last semester of undergrad and my undying love for Bradley's precocious daughter from the halloween fic, i thought i would post a little preview of what i'm working on for them! love these characters more than life and def so excited for y'all to get to know them better soon.
No one ever calls the landline. Very few people even have the phone number for the landline outside of Maverick and a few close family friends. Besides, anyone who would need to reach you had your cell phone numbers anyway. 
So who the actual fuck is calling your landline at 11 PM on a Thursday night? 
You hear Bradley yank the phone from its place on the wall and exhale with a huff. After sixteen years of being together, you know that huff is his tell of being annoyed. 
“Hello?” he gruffly answers. His irritation makes the questions sound more like a monotonous statement. 
“Bradshaw –” 
Jake Seresin is on the other end of the line. You can recognize his voice from the other room with his cadence even though you’re not the one on the phone with him. Having “mom ears” does that to a person, you suppose. 
“Why the fuck are you calling my house at 11 PM?” Bradley snaps. 
You’re wondering the same thing, but you’ll have to talk to him about being so rude and huffy. Jake may actually need something, after all. 
“Well you weren’t answering your fucking cell and neither was your wife so I had to do something.” 
Bradley rolls his eyes and looks back into the darkened living room. He’s been more on edge about you lately. 
“You can’t miss me that fucking much to be spamming my phone with calls,” he sighs and leans his back up agaisnt the wall. He notices the open blinds on the back door and starts to walk to close them before he’s yanked back by the phone cord. 
“Don’t cream your pants. I don’t like you that much.” 
Bradley lets out a soft snort in amusement before he remembers that he’s supposed to be annoyed. He opens his mouth to ask Jake what exactly it is that’s so damn important and can’t wait until tomorrow morning when he’s beaten to it. 
“I have Quincy here in the passenger seat and she’s beyond unwell.” 
The statement sends Bradley into panic mode instantly. His voice catches in his throat and he can’t recall a moment he’s had where he’s felt like he’s had to force the breath out of himself like this. 
He lets out something between a huff, a cough, and a wheeze before remembering he can’t make a huge show of himself right now because it’ll also throw you into panic mode. 
“What the fuck do you mean she’s not well? Jake, where the fuck are you?” he whispers into the phone, trying to cover his mouth as much as possible so you can’t even read his lips if you tried. “Is she okay? What’s –” 
It doesn’t take a genius to know that Bradley is panicking. Even Bradley’s beyond intoxicated and passed out seventeen-year-old daughter sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck could piece together that her father is nothing but a raging ball of anxiety at the moment, and Jake is positive that his friend is growing another patch of gray hair as the seconds pass. 
“Oh. . . fuck, I guess I should’ve phrased that better,” Jake admits. His truck comes to a halt at a spotlight and he glances over at his goddaughter. “She’s fine. She’s definitely drunk as shit right now, but I’m on the way to drop her at yours.”
Bradley can feel the obnoxious orange ball of anxiety inside of him shift to a tumultuous rage induced scarlett. His hand tightens around the cord of the phone and he has to stop himself before he yanks it out of the wall. He’s gotten angry like this before, but it never was angled toward his daughter. 
Never toward his sweet, precious girl. Never toward his amazing Quincy. 
But she knows the rules (and she chose to break them) and she knows what was told to her (and she snuck out anyway) and she knows that it’s dangerous to be that drunk (but yet she’s passed out in Jake’s truck). 
And if that isn’t both nerve-wracking and frustrating, Bradley doesn’t know what is. 
“Put her on the phone,” he speaks lowly. 
Jake gulps, knowing that he’s in one of those moods. Bradley doesn’t express anger as often as he expresses annoyance, but an angry Bradley is never someone he wants to be around. And from the way that Quincy made it sound when she called him to come get her from some random party in the middle of nowhere thirty five minutes away from her house at 11 PM on a school night, he knows her ass is being had tomorrow morning by both you and Bradley. 
There’s absolutely no way his goddaughter is coming out of this unscathed. 
“Dude, she’s obliterated right now and I think you talking to her is just gonna make it worse.” 
“And I don’t give a fuck. I said, put her on the fucking phone now.” 
Jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes as Quincy begins to stir next to him in her seat. He’s always been the person she’s called whenever she was in trouble. He always got the first hug whenever she was brought around. He’s always been her source of comfort outside of her parents and he’s never minded it because being around her is easy. 
It was easy to carry her around whenever she asked when she was little. It was easy to give in and let her sit in the cockpit of his grounded aircraft with him and let her play with the buttons when her dad and Papa Mav refused. It was easy to pick her up from school mid-day and take her to lunch. It was easy to bring her back gifts from whenever he was deployed and even easier picking them out because she’s a sucker for meaningless trinkets. 
It was easy to be her godfather and she’s a smart and relatively easy kid, but Jake has never been prepared for this part. 
Because doing what’s best for her is hard, and he realizes that when he can feel his friend wanting to put him through a wall over the phone. 
“No,” he speaks and he can hear Bradley let out a small gasp at the denial of his request, “She fucked up bad, Bradley. I’m sure she knows and you can have it out with her tomorrow morning, but right now, she’s not in any place to be screamed at and made to feel worse. You’re her dad and m’not tryin’ to take that away from you –” 
Bradley scoffs, “What exactly do you fuckin’ know about raising kids, Jake? Huh?” 
Jake grimaces and decides to take the brute of Bradley’s anger. Better him than Quincy, he figures. Besides, he knows Bradley doesn’t mean any of it. . . At least he hopes he doesn’t. 
“You obviously can’t be a dad because you just wanna have fun and dick around all the fucking time. Buying them fuckin’ candy and letting them off scott-free doesn’t do shit. You don’t have what it takes to raise a fucking person.” 
Jake doesn’t know why, but part of him starts to get that prickly feeling in his chest. Usually, every insult rolls off his shoulders into oblivion and he gets off on making people angry and being able to put on the facade that he really couldn’t give a damn if he tried.
But this one hurts because he knows that Bradley is right in some regard. 
He’s a runner and he lets people down. He’s nearing fifty (and God, he never thought he ever would) and has never even bothered to settle down. And he’s made the peace with himself a long time ago that he doesn’t deserve a wife or a family or kids because he would never be able to love them more than he loves himself; more than he loves his career. 
To hear one of your closest friends admit that to you openly, to know that someone outside of you sees it too, makes his heart stop momentarily and forces him to feel the ache of the words meant to stab him in the chest. 
“I understand,” he swallows. He knows arguing with Bradley isn’t the right thing to do at the moment and never will be. “I’m still not putting her on the phone. We will be at your house shortly.” 
The line goes dead and Bradley is overcome with a wave of anger that drowns him like a tsunami. He knows what he said was shitty and that he has no right to do that to someone who he considers a close friend, but he just can’t help himself. 
He knows no allies when it comes to his daughter. 
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bonefall · 5 months
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Now this had me thinking... Would Willowpelt die in the same way as canon (although to another creature im assuming since bb!badgers aren't as dangerous as they are in canon)? If she's getting kept around longer, maybe Cricketclaw is the one who sacrifices herself instead? That sounds like a fitting way for her to go, considering she couldn't protect her own siblings?
I feel like I should add a TM to anything that I'm working on in my drafts that has significant progress and is blog-plot-relevant, that will explain something exactly like this LMAO
Forgive me I am, at heart, a bear that eats half a salmon and then forgets I had a fish at all
Willowpelt's brush with death is staying, and is actually a bit plot relevant in Firestar's Quietus! I have a very specific scene which is actually totally written out-- actually fuck it, I'll just post it here
Context and narrative purpose of this scene:
Firestar is informed of a boar on the territory, and gathers a little scouting patrol to try and figure out what sort of hog it is.
VERY IMPORTANT SEGWAY. Because of how Willowpelt gets bitten here and Firestar loses a life saving Sorrelpaw, they all end up in the Cleric's den where Ferncloud is telling a story both to practice her new job as upcoming Educator and to comfort everyone.
The fact Willowpelt is not dead is how I get Littlecloud away from Runningnose and Firestar
Runningnose has a hunch, in this moment, that goody two-shoes little Firestar might be the perfect person to help Brokenstar, and teases the visions and revelations he's about to have
Establishes that boars are the new Big Bad Beastie of BB
Presents Sorrelpaw's epilepsy and demonstrates how it is a danger to her safety
(this is a lot of buildup but this is actually pretty short lmao)
So anyway before I let you go on to the readmore and a preview of Firestar's Quietus, no one takes Willowpelt's death here, and Willow is going to hang on for longer. I wanted to make sure I have a good amount of cats to kill off in the carnage of the White Hart's destruction.
Wherever Cricketclaw dies, it will be for a purpose. Either to show how bloody the TNP conflicts are, or in a greencough epidemic because I'm trying to make sure those aren't just "Kill a bunch of randos offscreen" disease anymore.
WILLOWPELT'S BOAR
The patrol is Sandstorm and Sorrelpaw, Willowpelt, Longtail and Sootpaw, and himself. It's just supposed to be for scouting, hence why the apprentices are coming along.
Unfortunately the hog has other plans, lunging out of a bush and going for Sootpaw
Willowpelt jumps in the way and gets bitten instead
Sorrelpaw acts quick, slashing its sensitive nose, drawing its attention and bolting as fast as she can
RIGHT as she crosses the Thunderpath, her body goes limp and she falls to the ground
She is having an absence seizure, and fallen flat on the road
The hog is hot on her heels, bowling after her, when a monster screeches to a halt out of nowhere
The hog is frozen in the headlights, Firestar bursts into action to pull Sorrelpaw out of the road
(i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums) BUMP BUMP
The boar and Firestar have been hit by, have been struck by, an automobile
When he sees StarClan, they're about to greet him with love. But their faces turn to shock and fear, the scenery becoming sinister and trees falling down.
A fifth oak tree is crashing down towards them. Firestar stares at it, dumbstruck.
Just before it strikes him, his eyes snap open
Firestar resurrects with a burst of energy, dragging Sorrelpaw off the road and into the safety of a fern on the ShadowClan side
The humans are coming out of the car to examine the boar they struck, but Firestar doesn't have time to consider that or his vision.
Littlecloud's head pokes out of the foliage and he springs into action, checking them both for injury. Breathless, Firestar points behind him and rasps, "Willowpelt!"
Littlecloud nods and bolts across the road.
Runningnose saunters out from a different angle-- one where he would have been able to see the road. Everything that happened.
His gaze is unsettling as ever, pausing, eyeing the leader up and down.
He starts tending to Sorrelpaw, then mumbles,
"Brave of you."
"It's what any leader would have done."
"No. It's what you always do."
Firestar doesn't know how to respond to that, but he's glad Runningnose isn't staring at him anymore.
But continues, "You will learn terrible things in the days to come, Firestar, and StarClan will not answer the questions that find you. If you seek the truth, meet me by the mothermouth on the night after the next gathering."
Sorrelpaw is leaning up now, her eyes dazed and confused, as if she's trying to figure out what happened.
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accio-victuuri · 3 months
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winter solstice happiness 🥟❄️
aside from their studios posting very close to each other, which is something we will now be monitoring lol. seriously. they just did it last 12/15 and now again? hahahahahaha! i like the idea tho that some are saying, how this is a reward for bxgs who are working hard for these damn weibo tickets! anyway, here are other things we have noticed from today.
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nothing serious, just good old clowning! ✌🏼
last time i talked about people knowing what songs wyb is listening to, so fans are saying it’s wyb’s qq music and those who are friends with his real account can view some of his songs & playlist. they said he is listening to the following tracks:
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interesting choices. cause isn’t wyb supposed to be into rock music lately? so why is he listening to this kind lately? we do know tho that xz prefers this type as well, so maybe wyb is playing this while he is with xz. 🤍
from the caption in ybo’s post “looking at everything”. this has actually been talked about before, but xz and xzs are fond of using the world everything/all things. so it’s 👀 when we saw it. of course the whole song and concept of wyb’s new single may be different and have more meaning as we get the lyrics and all that. but this one tiny thing is interesting.
there is also the bit in the preview that mentions loving the old & new. does this mean his “old” and “new” self since there has been changes in wyb’s life and who he is the public eye. some are comparing this to xz’s interview where he said there are 2 xiao zhans. again, this is a very early interpretation based on a small fraction of what we will have when we get the song but it’s fun to speculate 🤷🏻‍♀️
i’m personally curious tho why it’s moved to 12/29 when it has always been 12/30 release date? i guess we will have the answer at the right time.
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I also already mentioned this one, in C position is this b&w photo. We all know how WYB is fond of taking b&w photos lately so this is making me happy. Most likely not taken by WYB of course but the b&w that stands out in the middle is 🤍. He is also using the fan wyb gave him and then his phone where you can see that he is still using the card case. Maybe they used it as a break from all the professional photos in the grid but ofc our turtle brain is telling us otherwise.
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fans are also joking around cause xz’s photos show the left side of his face. which is his “good side”? sure. but why not the right? don’t you want us to compare it from this one???? 🤣🤣🤣
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ANYWAY, WE ARE SO LUCKY! BXGs have it real good. WYB’s new song on 12/29 and in between we might have some LOCH wrap content. Then for NYE, hopefully XZ will go to Dragon TV as rumored. WYB on the other hand will be with CCTV and then Hunan TV. It’s gonna be busy for us before the year ends! Let’s gooooo!!!!!! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼
source.
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pascaloverx · 4 months
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Rewrite The Stars
Summary: One photo changes your whole life, when you accidentally bump into a celebrity and the world starts to believe that you are a couple.
AO3 LINK next chapter
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PREVIEW
Work to achieve your dreams, they say. But what they don't tell you is that even if you work hard, some dreams won't come true. But for tonight, you will believe that your dreams will come true.
"Table six has been ordering the dish for half an hour. You know how these rich people are. If you don't want to lose your job, learn to walk faster." Your supervisor speaks almost shouting at you. It even seems like you're the only one who is a waitress in this restaurant. Five stars, my ass. Obviously at the moment, you can't respond back saying that the service is terrible because half the staff is busy waiting for the big celebrity who is coming to dinner here tonight.
"Yes, chef. I'll walk faster." You rush back with the last two orders you were in charge of taking. You were supposed to be dismissed almost two hours ago but we can't leave until the big star of the night comes. Pedro Pascal.
The man of the moment. Probably the face you've seen the most all year. They're coming to dinner at the restaurant where you work that night, they made a reservation for four. Everyone is speculating that he will bring some romantic interest.
Your manager has simply spent the last three hours warning you that any mistakes today will be resolved with a dismissal. You just can't imagine a worse time.
You almost trip when you're finishing serving the couple who ordered duck in white sauce. The restaurant is in chaos and thanks to that, your manager didn't fire you. You then decide to go outside to get some air, which might help you stay on your feet for the next few hours.
You're breathing chaotically, without any rhythm. You want to escape from this almost claustrophobic restaurant. In your haste, you don't see anything in front of you. You just feel that you bumped into another person's body. Your body was almost thrown to the ground with the impact. And when you looked up, you saw him.
"Mr. Pascal, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." You say it as soon as you realize what you did. An interesting fact is that Mr. Pascal held you tight with his arms so that you don't fall to the ground. If anyone saw from a distance they would think you were hugging each other. You immediately walk away, thinking that if your boss sees this, you're fucked up.
"Are you well? Your forehead is bleeding." He asks, touching his forehead lightly as if he were more worried about that than hiding. I bet he came through the back to avoid commotion.
"That was nothing, Mr. Pascal. You can follow me and I'll take you to your table calmly." You say, ignoring the burning in your head. What's a hurt next to losing this opportunity.
"Are you sure?" Pedro Pascal himself talks to you almost as if you were an alien because you don't allow your pain to show.
"Yes, sir. You don't need to worry about that, worse things have happened to me." You try to improve your expression so that Mr. Pascal can finally enter the restaurant. That's when you notice that you are being watched, by noises from what you imagine are paparazzi. You then take an unprofessional action. You push Mr. Pascal into the restaurant using his body as a shield so that the paparazzi cannot identify him.
"Is this how you treat your customers?" Pascal speaks as you lock the back door. Embarrassed, you turn to face Mr. Pascal after pushing him.
"Mr. Pascal, I'm terribly sorry. But I suspect there are photographers out there. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience." You say almost as if asking for mercy.
"Alright, miss. If you'll take me to my table, I promise to forget about this pushing." Mr. Pascal speaks as he watches you. You feel awkward, but you nod your head positively and lead him to his table.
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merakiui · 4 months
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I ended up listening to it and "Ah, It's a Wonderful Cat Life" IS so Floyd... I see the Floyd cat vision!! Yknow I was also considering how it may be to have both cat eels btw. Imagining them fighting for their owner's attention is so fun. This was sort of brought up with the puppyboy Floyd thing from one of your other asks but I could absolutely see the two of them arguing about something (though imagining them arguing about You makes this sillier to me personally) and it getting to where Jade is totally faking being upset/scared or maybe even being injured if it got to that point so that you give him even more attention when he comes running over to you after while Floyd is probably getting told off for being just so mean to his brother. Jade getting scratched behind the ears and held (maybe even making faces at Floyd when you aren't looking at him because he so just lost) while Floyd is sitting there being forced to apologize to him. So so silly.
Also can catboys purr? I'm going to be honest I have absolutely no idea. But also sorta relating to Floyd being glued to you after taking him in,, Floyd who keeps laying down on top of you at night (or weaseling his way into your bed so he's holding you,, so you're trapped in his arms) so you're stuck under with him when you're supposed to be getting up in the morning (or really.. floyd who keeps turning off your morning alarms. which he could so also do but him crushing you is sillier)... and really you can't just Move him... pushing him off just doesn't really go your way! But also he'd look so happy with himself. Purring if he could do that (which is why I bought it up. totally related! :3). Would really want to ruin that?? 🤨 Totally not. You're stuck here with him now! That's just how it is.
But I totally get you about the vision btw!! The grip a good plot can have on a person </3 goodness gracious. Also I'm going to be honest when I first started reading your work it made me want to start writing again. While I haven't,, I so totally get wanting to write Jade, etc unrestrained. It seems SO fun !! Perhaps one day I'll get to it. and if I do I probably will show up again to tell you about it lol
I am gonna try and catch up on a much of the previews as I can before TMDG comes out 🫡 if I remember to. Also Im sorry my asks have been so long like every time I come through I have such an issue with rambling 😭 I'm sure it's fine but goodness I'm making you put in work to get through my asks /j
- :3 anon
Aaaaa I'm so happy you can see the catboy Floyd vision!!!! >0< "ah, it's a wonderful cat life" is so very Floyd. <3 and I love the idea of the twins arguing over you; they're too silly!! Jade taking every opportunity to act hurt or upset after an argument with Floyd, and it works on you every time. T_T so now Floyd has to grumble out an apology just so he won't make you sad, and Jade is basking in the attention he gets from you while Floyd's silently scowling. Whether a puppyboy or a catboy, he will always have issues with Jade when it comes to you and your love. orz
:O maybe they can purr!!! In my mind, yes to that question a million times!!!! I would do anything to hear little purrs and mrrps from catboy Floyd!!!!!!!! Omg the image of this big catboy eel lying on top of you in bed and being so content and eepy....... 🥺 it's both silly and cute. You can't move him because he's so heavy, and even if you do manage to push him off he's just going to come back and cling to you even harder. >:) he will have his cuddle time with his shrimpy!! You're never getting rid of him; he's here to stay forever. :D
The Vision is always recurring... orz there are so many things I always want to write, so it's gripping me in a chokehold. ;;; but I'm so happy to hear my works can inspire you to start writing again! I hope if you ever do get back into it you will have lots of motivation forever!!! Please tell me all about it if and when you do. <3 also also!!! Writing Jade is so much fun. I recommend it hehe!! :3c
There are many tmdg previews scattered within my blog, so I hope you can enjoy them!!!! Jade is silly in most, if not all, of them. And please don't worry for long asks!!! I love reading asks of all kinds, especially the ones with passionate ramblings. Please feel free to write as much as you would like in your messages!! <3
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cbk1000 · 6 months
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Still bored and not feeling great, so here is a follow-up preview to this post. It's been sitting in my Google Docs for quite some time, so might as well throw some of it up online.
It was raining furiously going out of Edinburgh, so that the Viaduct had to rise from the heath as if from the mists of time. In fair weather, or even in typical weather, those nebulous masses which one could presume to be hills nursed their heather by the light of the sun or the soon-to-be-sun; and when the weather had determined to be better than itself, the hillsides showed where the day set fire to the bluebell and ling, and exposed the shy moss in its bole. But now they were going as if through the Atlantic. It was wet, it was grey; and sporadically the mist broke its back on a peak, and showed, as if through some spume, where there was a world still anchored in earth. Then the fogs closed again, and they were alone in that dread, dead place between worlds, in the wastes of time or no-time.
Arthur was still related to Morgana, and still, consequently, drinking. He had had a little champagne first, and remembered that he didn’t fancy champagne; and it certainly didn’t fancy him. He was sat now on one of the sofas with some whiskey, feeling a little better in his stomach, though not his soul. He was still thinking about the bed. He was thinking that for seven unremitting nights, he would have to be elbowed, and kicked at, and drooled on: all of which Merlin had done before, somewhere in the jumbled mists of their uni years, when their backs did not care where, how, or when they slept, and fighting over a blanket on a floor was no worse than doing it at the Four Seasons. But at least he had had the privilege of going to the other end of the sofa, and sticking his feet in Merlin’s face, or to the far edge of the blanket, where he could put some space and decency between the inevitable phenomenon of being a man alive in the morning, and happy to see it. Now because Merlin was not thoughtful enough to take the armchair, or make himself some cosy nest on the floor, now because he had been working on his physique, Arthur would have to compress himself into an inadequate double with some shoulders almost as broad as his own. Now he would have to share, on his own personal holiday, his own personal bed, with a man not civilised enough to give up most of his allotment. 
He was frowning out the window, and waiting for Scotland to do something lovely, when Merlin threw himself down onto the sofa with his own whiskey, and dropped his head back on the cushion. He had crowded in predictably, so that his knee was touching Arthur’s knee, in a rather ominous harbinger of what his nights were to be like from this day forward, unto eternity (Monday). He had got off his blazer already, and rolled up his sleeves, so that Arthur could see the muscles in his forearms, so that he could see the weedy uni mate who had had to make his way fighting larger men with his wit and rabies could now do it with his rather distastefully large hands.
“You’re not supposed to take off your jacket,” Arthur said. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Well, if they throw me off the Viaduct for violating the dress code, you’ll get the bed to yourself, yeah?” He nudged Arthur’s knee with his, and took a drink. “By the way, I’m going to bed at old man time tonight, and if you try and fight me over the bed, I will bite you. I’m so knackered.”
“Well, just remember, I sleep on the left, and if you take my side, you’re sleeping on the floor, one way or another.”
Merlin knocked their knees together again and drank. He looked away from Arthur, out the window; and there fell over them that silent existence which did something to the depths of Arthur. He left his knee where it was, where there was the small, warm point of human contact, in the desolate train hurtling in a desolate world to end or absolution. The whiskey had come up a little in his throat, and stopped where there was a lump to stop it. He had had the same human touch the rainy weekend in Cornwall, when he was alone on a planet of billions moving in time without him. He had to look from the window for a moment, to the stubbled face in profile, and hurt, for a moment, exquisitely. It is sometimes like that to love; though of course he would not have called it that, when there were a number of other terms less fraught or complimentary. 
“You ok?” Merlin asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Ok. You pillock.”
“What do you want me to say, in front of a lounge full of passengers?”
“You could say ‘yes’ in a tone that actually sounds like you mean it, or you could say ‘no’, and we could go back to the cabin, and get pissed, or watch Netflix, or call your dad and tell him what an absolute cock he is. I can do it; you should keep not talking to him.” Then there was the little knock on his knee again, and Merlin said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately.”
“I really didn’t notice,” Arthur said, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’ve been busy myself.”
“Oh, right, I forgot, every day when I called you whilst I was on lunch, you were like, ‘Merlin; Merlin…sorry, it’s not ringing a bell, mate.’”
“Well, you called me, so if you’re trying to accuse me of something lunatic, like missing you, it’s probably projection.”
“No, I didn’t miss you. Just wanted to make sure you had a voice to go with the hair doll.” He took another drink. 
“It’s a voodoo doll, actually.”
“So you just sit in your room all day, sticking pins in me? Kinky.” Merlin snorted. “You are bright red.”
“I am not. And you can’t say ‘kinky’ on a luxury train.”
“If you can’t say ‘kinky’ where it will make rich people uncomfortable, what’s the point of saying it at all?”
Arthur rolled his eyes.
And now the teasing had gone from him, and he said, “Arthur,” quietly, and looked at him in the grey light of the window, and touched him, just long and gently enough, where there were no witnesses to ruin it.
“Yeah. Fine,” Arthur said, and Merlin clapped his knee with the hand he had laid briefly and feelingly on it, and said, “Ok, well, then we should get something settled. You are going to teach me how to eat dinner, right?”
Arthur rolled his eyes again. “You’ve never needed my help eating anything in your life. In fact, usually you stab me with your fork when I try.”
“Yeah, but there are going to be little spoons or something, and I’m going to have to use them in a specific order, and I’m going to have to eat the food in a specific order, and all whilst wearing a suit that I don’t want to muck up, because I paid fifty quid for it.”
“You only paid fifty quid for your suit?” Arthur cried. “For the whole suit? Did you get most of it from a skip?”
“I’m not going to just drop several hundred pounds on a suit I’m only going to wear a few times,” Merlin protested.
“You didn’t answer me about the skip,” Arthur said, setting aside the whiskey, which he did not have room to process, alongside his horror.
Dinner was got through with no mishaps but the mishaps Merlin had orchestrated; though he did have to ask Arthur whether he could eat the little flower on top of his salmon without dying.
“It’s a garnish, you plonker.”
Merlin pinched it between his fingers and held it up to the light to squint at it. “So can I eat it, or not?”
“You’re not meant to, though that’s never stopped you before.”
Merlin ate the flower, just to be gauche. 
“Are you going to eat yours?” Gwaine asked Arthur, and helped himself to it before he could reply. 
“You have my genetics, and hence could have pretty much any man you wanted, and this is your choice?” Arthur asked sourly, giving Morgana a nasty little look, and batting Gwaine’s hands away from his plate.
“Don’t malign me like that; I’ve only got half your genetics. Besides, it’s not like you’ve got yourself the Prince of Wales. No offence, Merlin,” she said, patting his hand, as if he would need to be consoled.
“None taken; he’s a twat,” Merlin said.
“Yes, but the difference is, Merlin and I are not a couple. So it doesn’t matter if he eats the garnish on his confit of salmon; it doesn’t reflect poorly on me, because I’m not shagging him where innocents can walk in on it.”
“If you had wanted to remain innocent, you should have knocked before walking into a flat that didn’t belong to you.”
“Who does that with the door unlocked?” Arthur demanded, whilst Gwen and Lance politely pretended they were not being involuntarily involved in someone else’s sex life, when they could have been off enjoying their own. 
There was entertainment in the Observation Car, which Arthur, naturally, complained about.
“You sound like you have gout,” Merlin said.
“What on earth does gout have to do with anything?” Arthur asked.
“Nothing; you just sound like one of those old men who sits round complaining about all his old man ailments and never letting anyone else have any fun. ‘Oh, music, people laughing; just horrid. Horrid,’” Merlin mocked in a bratty voice.
“There might be bagpipes.”
“They’re not going to bring bagpipes on a train where people can’t escape them.”
“There were bagpipes when we were getting on the train,” Arthur said, frowning.
“There are bagpipes everywhere in Edinburgh,” Merlin replied, in a voice that stated, firmly, he thought Arthur was a great nattering twat baby. They adjourned (it did not seem appropriate to say they merely ‘went’ to a train car full of furniture worth more than his annual salary) to the Observation Car, which was now full of diners, and music. There were not any of the dread bagpipes, but only a lovely fiddle, going on impressively, whilst an elderly passenger clapped in time with it; or what the champagne told him was in time with it. He was wobbling about, in exactly the opposite spirit of Arthur, introducing himself to everyone, and twice to Morgana, who had got all the charm there was to be got from the Pendragon line, leaving none for Arthur. 
Outside the window, Scotland was still rather miserable. Merlin had hoped to see those dreaming glimpses of the highlands, which were, or were felt to be, pure of humanity. The itinerary had promised him Ben Arthur and Loch Lomond, and he had fantasised making them into one of the walking tours, though he knew, intellectually, he would only glimpse them in passing. He had already made them in his heart a place for him and Arthur to be alone where aloneness has meaning; where it is a grand reckoning with that simultaneous infiniteness and finity of time. All that long month he had been caged in his office, seeing Arthur for brief intervals at the pub, or over FaceTime, whilst what was left of the wild country called to him; and now when he had expected to see it, at least, through the train window, streaming away into eternity, and taking with it his imagination into the secret dells and copses where there were fungi or larks to discover, what he saw was a desolate grey. He was looking at a smudge. Now and again there resolved out of it a larger smudge, more darkly or lightly coloured; and then even that feeble hope of scenery dissolved into that dreary badland which the British rain makes of the grasses which feed from it. If it were a nice little tropical rain, he could have marvelled at it, and counted the stalks of the gorse in the clean clear light of summer eternal; but here it was arse. Here he felt the train was having to invent the world as it drove along, into that great grey nothing out of which the trestle tracks sprang when they were needed, and vanished thereafter.
Arthur had got them some whiskeys, and sat them at the far end of the car, away from the musicians, and socialisation; so it was they two in the warm yellow light of the train, sitting too closely, because Arthur did not understand personal space; and especially he did not understand it when he had a mate, a very bisexual mate, who was trying to be romantically ignorant of him. Arthur was a great clueless lout, who blundered about in heterosexual infamy; and Merlin was tired. So they were sitting as close as boyfriends sat, and complaining about politics, whilst Merlin resisted sleep. He had that strange sensation of being unmade. He was as cosy on the sofa with Arthur as if he had been in bed; and so he was fraying, bit by bit, at the seams of his corporal body; he was in that state of confusion which the conscious mind feels when it is on the cusp of leaving itself. He was on the sofa, with his knee pressed to Arthur’s knee; but he was also beyond it, where dreams or half-dreams have carried their fuddled makers. He felt that he had been speaking one moment; and the next moment he was waking up on Arthur’s shoulder, in a puddle of drool.
Arthur had taken the whiskey out of his limp hand before he had spilled it, and was quietly going through his phone; though he pointed out, loudly, and quickly, before there was any confusion about his considerateness, about the drool, and pushed Merlin’s head. 
They left the others to what was a very fine night of drinking, and dancing, and returned to the cabin for bed, at the humble hour of 8.00, because Merlin had been up since 4.00, and because Arthur, in the Observation Car, would have been in tremendous danger of having fun. They had to decide the order of their ablutions by playing rock, paper, scissors; or a revised version of it, which went something like rock, paper, fuck you, because they were both wanton cheaters, so that whatever was to be settled by it generally was settled by taking the ostensible winner, and shoving him into a wall, or kneeling on his back, till he agreed the other was a wanker; but a triumphant one. 
Merlin was too tired for the usual order of business; he had to go for the truncated version. He smacked his fist three times into his palm: and turned whilst Arthur was mocking his loss, and sprinted for the loo. 
“I’ll remember that,” Arthur said with cold promise when he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
He put on his joggers after Arthur had disappeared into the bathroom, and got straightaway into the bed, with a little hope in his exhaustion, that he would be asleep before Arthur was even out of the loo, never mind in the bed. He was not as casual about the bed as he would have liked to be. He would have to wake up, practically in the arms of a man who was an egregious spooner, with his penis reporting for duty. He had shared an alarming number of sofas with Arthur in uni, and knew what was to be the next week of his life; it was to be horrid. Arthur would lie down very stiffly beside him, with a few pillows between them, which he had stacked like a wall between his heterosexuality, and Merlin; and then all those troubled instincts which he had for human touch would drive him to seek it. By morning the pillows would be gone; and Merlin would have both an erection, and the warm body in which it felt it could be sated. It was not polite to wank to one’s friends; and so he would have to lie, thinking of his grandmother, whilst Arthur twitched on or against him: and woke, with a snort, to say, “Why the hell are you cuddling me?” 
For safety they had had to sleep head to foot; and he considered now rearranging the pillow at the other end of the bed, so that Arthur’s feet could work their incredible magic on Merlin’s morning wood. They were better than thinking of his grandmother; who after all was not despicable, but only his grandmother. But those were the old insecurities of men, almost boys, trying to make it understood that they were, in the one case, straight, and in the other, possessed of actual taste. It was no longer necessary, at thirty, to flaunt their obvious sexual disregard for one another. So he kept the pillow where it was, and determined to be an adult about it; and then Arthur came out of the bathroom in only a towel, as if he were not rather fit, and Merlin were not rather bisexual. And with the usual inconsiderateness of the hetero, he went round the whole cabin in it, with the water running out of his chest hair, and into his stomach hair.
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lol-jackles · 5 months
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Sorry if you've already spoken on this but here is my question:
Concerning TW, why did Jensen drop the ball so bad on this? While screwing over Jared and SPN's legacy over a hot mess - I thought he wanted to show he could do good without Jared and create a "SPN"ish world with himself at the centre. But he barely did any marketing for it, seemed unbothered during press time (irritated even w/ Danneel) and seemed to not care about the story, characters or the shooting. I mean the man didn't need to make something to memorable but he seemed to not even try while putting his post-spn reputation on the line.
He even brought his wife as a partner on a show (spn) she never cared about. It couldn't have been simply a big F U to Jared for being the actual lead of SPN. If it was simply narcissism, that man is deep in it then... or he is simply as simple-minded as his wife (no offense... but after hearing her talk... gosh darn)
Jensen’s business model has always made my eye twitch, it's why I keep offering to manage his career for free. There's a reason why most actors should never be in charge of their own projects.
As actors we're supposed to do research, research, and more research. Jensen doesn't do research because he has tons of raw talent. But to quote Einstein, "Genius is 1% talent and 99% hard work". Without hard work, that talented kid is just going to be a normal kid. Jensen's acting method is largely instinctual, and he applies the same method to his business model. When Jensen acts, he doesn't go into a scene looking to do a scene, instead he goes in to give over to how the other person makes him feel, he doesn’t worry about how he’s going to say his lines, he says them intuitively. That's fine for acting, up to a degree. That doesn't work in business.
"but he seemed to not even try while putting his post-spn reputation on the line."
Like most celebrities, Jensen's idea of being a businessman is slap his face and name on a product, let others do the work, and sit back and wait for the royalties to start rolling in. Just look at how he handled his first #SPNFamily tee-shirt campaign in 2015, it was barely the default minimum.  And that’s fine, a lot of celebrities do that. But it’s not ideal for somebody who wants to create something.  It’s easy to have ideas, but it’s very hard to turn an idea into a successful product.  
To actually run a business on a day-to-day basis is not Jensen's forte. Like how some people are enamored with having their dream wedding and not thought about the work that goes into a marriage. Post-SPN, Jensen doesn’t have a Jared to pick up the slack for his under-functioning handling of his prequel project.   We saw the preview of this during the YANA campaign:
Jensen & Misha: Hey guys we're launching YANA! And click the link below.
Fandom: Cool, so what is YANA?
Jensen:  *puts his head on Misha’s shoulders* There’s a link below!
Fandom: But what is YANA about?
*Literally 20 minutes later*
Jensen and Misha: *clowning* Don’t forget to click on the link be….
Fandom: Fuck you, assclowns!  Where’s Jared?
*24 hours later Jared explained what YANA is about on his Facebook even though he’s not part of the YANA campaign*
Fandom: Thanks Jared! Wow that only took 2 minutes.
Me: It literally took 2 minutes.
As for Jensen bringing on Danneel into the $PN brand, they’ve been trying to raise Danneel’s profile for at least 5 years and thought ingratiating her into the $PN fandom that she had no part in cultivating would be a swell idea.
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solaroppositesyaoi · 9 months
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Hold on ,,, i kinda fell out of the fandom a while ago
Is Tervo canon now?? Like... earnest canon? Not just in that limbo between homophobic jokes and queerbaiting but like... Actual committed, loving relationship that they're both working on and they don't just sometimes kiss for laughs?
Because in that case i might start watching again
(I fell off just before the christmas special)
OH BOY ANON YOU JUST ACTIVATED MY AUTISM
So the short answer is yes though not 100% and I understand if that’s not what you’re looking for but if you have time you can listen to me go off:
So they pretty much do everything except stare directly at the audience and announce that their in a relationship but the show pretty much tells us they’re in relationship
We’ll start with the Christmas Special since you stopped there.
There’s only one “tervo” scene where Terry reveals he’s been practicing punching for Korvo’s Christmas present and they share a kiss which is the best kiss we’ve gotten from them.
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It’s very sweet
Now onto s3
I’m linking my own video if you want to watch the scenes yourself but don’t worry I’m gonna break into them: link to video
There’s a lot of little things through out the season the word “husband” is thrown around a lot, in episode 2 Terry refers to Korvo as babe a personal fave of mine. There’s also huge implications they’re having sex with each other which you know helps.
The main episodes with the biggest Tervo moments are episode 3 The Pupas Big Day and episode 8 The Cubic Lattice Crystallizer
The Pupa’s Big Day features jealous Korvo in the best possible way (this is my personally favorite episode in the series by the way)
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I don’t want to ruin the episodes for you but Terry is buddy buddy with a new character and it drives Korvo crazy. In the end the episode ends with with this line:
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Tervo for the soul
The Cubic Lattice Crystallizer starts well with this:
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After the fam goes on vacation and a few shenanigans happens until Terry and Korvo end up a museum of betrayals which features an animatronic of Korvo getting banged by Chris the red goobler
This sets off Terry who shows quite a bit a jealousy from the situation I’m not going to show it cause of tumblr’s nsfw rules but the animatronic says something along the lines
“I’m coming harder than I do with Terry”
The final scene I want to talk about come from the season finale The Fog of Pupa. Ms. Frankie reveals the cunnilingus Korvo gave her in the s2 finale and Terry give him this look:
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It’s just screams Terry’s pissed at Korvo for this but why would he be if they weren’t in a relationship??
Outside that we have the Halloween special where it’s revealed Korvo gave Terry bj coupons for Valentines Day
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Cute
Also found this excerpt article with Mike McMahan (here’s a link for the entire article)
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In the s4 preview (youtube link) Terry pretty much is the sole reason Korvo is British now because it made him horny, he also calls Korvo sweetie in the clip.
We also have a Valentines episode to look forward too which a lot of people are speculating a tervo wedding as “something big” is suppose to happen to two characters hmmm…..
So are they in a relationship? I like to think so but I’m also autistic and a little insane and I eat up all the scraps they give me. Maybe I’m delusional but i feel there’s a ton of evidence here. If you think this is just queerbait material I understand but I think it’s pretty clear they’re in love with each other. Either way I can't wait for s4 and more tervo content for me to tear into and analyze the death.
Anyway thanks for sticking with me here and I hope this answered your question!
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darkdemeter · 2 months
Text
— PREVIEW — (OLD VAR.)
THE GOLD OF WINTER Part 2
The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, BUCKY BARNES COLUMN #00 —
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—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—
Material is featured as the OFFICIAL prelude for the upcoming project.
Mob! Dark! Bucky/Winter Soldier x Female Reader
A/N: Okay okay okay, first I'd like to say a BIG thanks to @ellemj for being an amazing person and offering her aid should I feel stuck in writing for Bucky! Truly a talented and amazing writer and person, I highly recommend you read her works, they're are brilliant! fantastic! Go... go read them now, why are you still reading this preview— No! I can wait, put her works on your top priority reading list! Here's the 2nd part preview & official prelude for you lovely babbies/readers. Also don't fret to scramble and read part 1 if you come across this one first, you're not missing much I assure you haha.
WORD COUNT — 3.4k
READER DISCRETION — princess mafia daughter, ya know, the spoilt brat style — minor mention of assault (groping) — some narrative profanity — little bucky needs a hug — little bit of a tragic story there — mentions of violence — I think that's it?
Enjoy the preview!
May 11th, 1930 “The Hidden Isles” 
What is supposed to be considered as a facility is not as dreary as one would initially presume. Many were likely to assume a sketchy looking warehouse or steel enforced factory when such a term was used. Instead, it was somehow between the two factors of professionalism and luxurious. Private. Off the grid. The perfect place for him. 
“Thank you for this honorary visit, Ma’am.” The man that greets his visitor has a wide smile, eyes shimmering with his overwhelming excitement. Of course he would feel the utmost privilege. The woman beside him sets a leisurely pace as they walk the length of the swimming pool, the small rise up to the patio inviting them inside the looming mansion. 
“I trust that he will be well taken care of.” 
She leaves no room for question or doubt. He will be taken care of. All his needs met, his wants satisfied and be educated in the knowledge and artistry of their world. The man nods with the impending threat that his neck would snap from the enthusiasm behind it. 
“Of course! Please, this way.”
He leads her further inside, down the hallway that heads off towards the back of the mansion and into the downstairs office. The room was spacious and well kept to keep a level of order when conducting business. Behind the large desk are a set of doors shrouded in darkness by the overlooking drapes. 
He all but rips the keys from his suit jacket and unlocks the door for the woman, bowing his head with a gesture of his hand. Always the overachiever. 
The woman scoffs with a roll of her eyes and wanders down the flight of stairs that leads to the lower levels. While the upstairs retained the air of pure, majestic luxury, the two lower floors beneath were the reason why the term ‘facility’ was used.
A training facility. Every room serves a purpose. Millions upon millions poured into the grand mansion that is hidden off grid for the single purpose to train the world’s finest elites. Assassins, spies and the like. It was her own personal project. One she easily gained the funding for without so much as a question, not after she leaves her husband satisfied afterwards. 
“Already, he shows brilliant promise. I assure you, Ma’am, he will be ready when the time comes for your need of him.” The man was most confident in his statement. She nods with a squint of her eyes in sharp observation. Only on some occasions did she come here for any of the other abandoned or lost children, as a means to check in on their status and well being. To make sure they were taken care of. 
But this child is unique. Special to her. And he would have everything he wanted and deserved. 
She sees him behind the pane of glass. A young boy who will become a man - but not just any other grunt with a gun that works under the branch of the families. He shows promise of being greater. The greatest.
He’s being monitored by the supervisors in the room with him, his attention engaged with the practice target. 
For now he will use his hands. And then, when he is able, he will utilise the various assortment of weapons and gadgets funded by the abundance of money behind it all. “You show greater interest in this child than any before. May I ask… why him?” the man asks, gulping afterwards when realising he’s overstepped his bounds as the facility manager. He’s an ant beneath the heel of her boot. 
She stares at young James for a while in silence. She is not one to answer out of haste unless to stress something of dire importance. 
“Train him well,” she finally says and the man straightens his shoulders. “Train him unlike any before him. Make him the perfect killer. The finest soldier with a weapon. Ensure that his predecessors and successors can never be a match for him.”
The man nods eagerly again. “Yes, Ma’am. I believe I have just the thing to make this desire a reality… but why–” he silences himself under the slits of her narrowed eyes, daggers aimed straight at him. He feels the horrific chill that haunts his spine. 
“Ensure that this task is done. Else you will be out of commission.”
Before the man can make his profuse apologies she walks towards the door on the opposite end of the viewing room. Opening the door, the eyes of James and his supervisors turn to her. “Leave us,” she commands beneath the lilt of her accent, smooth and alluring but just as poised with venom; akin to a viper. The saying that ‘if looks could kill’ is literal for her. 
Some call her Medusa for good reason. 
The supervisors leave promptly, feet shuffling in rapid succession to the command. James looks at the tall woman draped in a long, fur trimmed coat. He believes he should be scared or intimidated but the way her eyes soften when they land on him, he knows she means no harm to him. She wants to care for him. 
“Hello Bucky,” she greets, her voice soft like a lullaby compared to before. Tenderness. She approaches him with arms held wide open and he accepts her invitation. He becomes enveloped in her arms as she holds him. Her eyes well up with hot, glossy tears that leave the bottom of her vision foggy. 
“Promise you’ll visit?” She almost gasps at the thought of neglect. “Of course, my darling,” she assures and kneels down to his height. “I promise to visit whenever I’ve a moment to spare.” 
She hums knowingly and he nods. She pulls him to her again as another wave of tears threaten to burst through her strong, stone cold visage. 
“I promise you, my dear Bucky, you will have everything.”
Present Day, 2022 Upstate New York
This event has been the talk of the year and a plan in the making for many more. Your 21st birthday is finally here and all needs to be perfect. And that perfect little world of yours can only be secured by the best security your father can buy. 
He stands at the head of the table with the files Tony handed over just a moment ago. A hand wedged into the pocket of his fitted, sleek pants, his other opens the file. “He is the best guard for the job by far, guaranteed.”
Tony could see the King’s question laced in the hard line of his silver brows. “And you can say with utter confidence that no harm shall befall my daughter if I approve of this?” 
Tony nods with a gesture of his hands. “Not a single hair on her little head will be plucked if the Winter Soldier is assigned as her new bodyguard. Trust me, an army of suits is just a bigger target. He is worth ten men in one.”
The King smirks. If he knew Tony after all these years, it was that the man knows how to drive forward a damn good pitch. The King glances to his side when a familiar, slender hand runs up the sleeve of his arm. “Husband, this is the best way to ensure her safety.” 
Her voice is smooth, coated in the honey of persuasion. It’s little to no wonder where his daughter gets it from. 
Again he looks at the information in the files before him. Hell, the man looks dangerous. Terrifying. Exactly what any enemy would need to see before they hightail it in the opposite direction. Credited with over a dozen kills and assassinations, a successful subject to the serum and with the voucher from both a partner and his wife; there is no point in arguing. Opening his mouth to give his answer to the crew, each of them eager for his response, another fills the air; draining all authority from him in an instant. 
“FATHER!” 
Tony blinks a few thousand times until his lashes bat away the whirlwind of a scream. He looks to Steve first, then Sam and then finally his business partner, Fury. They all share a silent look that means the same exact thing: she’s a screamer.
“Ah, my apologies,” The King says softly beneath a chuckle, hiding the sliver of annoyance in his eyes at the intrusion of his meeting. “That would of course be my daughter.”
You barge into the room seeing red behind the faint layer of gloss in your eyes. You see the way your father offers a kind smile but you are beyond the realm of human anger. You’re seething. You storm towards the tall stature of your father, ignoring the way seated eyes linger momentarily on you before shyly averting away at the sight of you in your swimwear. 
“My precious gold,” your father greets softly, “what is the matter?”
“That flea-bitten dog, Walker! He dared to come onto me and groped me on my way out of the pool!” 
Your father’s eyes scrunch closed with a deep sigh. John Walker, the adopted son and heir to Alexander Pierce was a potential suitor your father intended to match you with. But now that throws a spanner deep into the works of his web. Fucking idiot. 
“I want something done about this. Cut off his hands, slit his throat - hell castrate him for all I care - just have him punished!” 
“I will see to it that something is done, my flower.” You decide to trust in your father’s words. He’s never given you any reason ever to mistrust him. He always makes them pay. It’s what made him feared. Ruthless. A true quality of a king. 
It was the only redeeming quality you hoped for in your husband in your eventual, inevitable marriage. A man who would do anything to ensure you were always respected, that boundaries were taught to never be crossed under any circumstance. A man who knew how to put someone in their place.
“I shall take her to get ready.” It’s your mother who breaks through the ensuing silence. She rounds the table and begins to guide you towards the doors. Convince him, her eyes scornfully order Tony before she leaves with you. 
Once you have left the sanctuary of the boardroom, your father cannot help but growl with utter frustration. The fucking idiot boy. How was he to rectify this matter? He paces the length of the room with a hand running through his slicked back hair. 
“I understand this is a difficult situation to be in, your Highness,” Fury says, voice firmly sincere in his condolences, “I believe it would be wise to heed both the advice of your wife and ours. Assign the Winter Soldier to her and nothing like this will come to pass again.”
Your father’s face is set hard into a troubled frown. Did it truly take something of this magnitude for him to agree? It shouldn’t have, your safety is his priority. The only heir your poor mother could provide him. The harm you endure is a burden on the King’s heart.
“I want him. Have him here tonight. He’ll be a gift for my princess.”
It isn’t long until the grand event begins. After an hour and a half of your mother calming you down, she ushered away the helping hands that were the ladies who often helped you prepare. She just wanted to have you for herself for a moment. Your mother runs the hair cream through your hair, her fingers soothing as they rake over your scalp. 
“And her skin would reflect the shimmer of gold, like the scales of a dragon. She covets gold with a fierce desire for it, and the hearts of men were hers to conquer.” 
You giggle at her retelling of her story that she, by her account and honour, is true. Oh, how she could make you laugh. “That’s such a fairytale.” You continue to giggle and you catch the grin on your mother’s lips in the reflection of your vanity. 
“When I was your age, I believed my mother when she told me,” your mother points out with a smirk. At the mention of your grandmother, you perk up. “Will she be attending tonight?” 
She sees the way the light catches in your hopeful eyes. The pure, childish adoration and love for the matriarchal figure. She nods assuringly. “Yes, she will be here.” 
You feel giddy to see her. It’s been some time since you’d last seen her, let alone on your own birthday. The news brings to life a sense of encouragement to forget about the incident that occurred today, even though it still leaves a sour taste in your mouth. This wouldn’t have happened if you still had your assigned security team. But they had failed in their simple job and they paid the price for it. They were worth three black cars parked out front at around midnight. 
Your mother finishes massaging the cream into your hair. “Alright, I have some things to prepare. You get yourself ready now, my darling little dragon.” Her tone is teasing the nickname and you roll your eyes. “Stop,” you whine and she backs away with a faint laugh on her breath. 
You’re now left alone in your room, spacious enough to be called a palace in itself at best - a penthouse at worst. Fixing up your hair in a few different styles you’re potentially taking a liking to, you begin to get ready. You settle on a style for your hair and apply the matching palette of makeup to your features. 
And then finally, the dress.
The designer made due on her promise to grant you the most stunning dress for your 21st. Anything for the King’s daughter. A strapless, bodice style dress that follows your body like a second skin before freeing up to cascade down your legs, a slit just ending at the mid of your thigh. The sequins glitter in the light as if they have a mind to party on their own. 
You come from behind the changing screen and walk towards the vanity for any final touch ups when you freeze. You feel unknown eyes - hidden eyes - watching you. In contrast to the warm hue that makes up your room, the moon makes the white fabric of the drawn curtains glow ominously. Did you leave the door to the balcony open earlier today? You were sure you hadn’t but you had a big day, you could have easily forgotten to close it. 
The curtains blow gently with each breath of the moonlit breeze as you approach, the cool air tickles your skin with the threat of goosebumps. You promptly shut the door left ajar. So you must have left it open. You hum with a shake of your head. 
“Miss L/N, are you ready?” one of the aid hands asks from the other side of your door. With a startled gasp, you shake the idea of being watched away. “I am.”
You’re just being paranoid, you reason with yourself. It’s hard from always having multiple guards watching you to not having any. It’s only been three weeks and you were slowly getting used to not having the extra, familiar eyes on you at every given moment. 
So now, you were at a loss when this feeling made your stomach flip and turn. Just being paranoid. You turn your back to the curtains and head for the door, exiting into the hallway to finally enjoy the night luxury had bought for your birthday; missing the shadow that passes by your window. 
You meet your father where you always meet him, ready to start the evening with your father and daughter dance. A moment in time where you can enjoy the sanctuary of your father’s embrace. How he held you securely the entire time, a promise that he would never let you go. He’d never let you fall. He refused to. 
He would sooner die than see you hurt, it’s why it hurt when he saw the look of utter betrayal when he told you that he hadn’t so much as castrated or slit Walker’s throat. 
He twirled you before pulling you back to him, your hand on his shoulder tightened as the bile in your stomach threatened to turn into that same, seething anger. “But fret not, my flower, I have a special present for you. A token of good faith you could say, sponsored by Stark Industries.”
A sponsored gift? You raise a questioning brow and your father chuckles. “You’ll be glad for it, I promise.” 
Though your resolve to question whatever the meaning is behind his words, it’s stopped by the sole factor that those unknown eyes are upon you again. It feels like a ghost is haunting your every move. It unnerves you. When your father spins you, you catch a blurred glimpse of a shadow. It lingers in the back so it’s difficult to make out, hiding within the darkness of the crowd. But it’s where the feeling is coming from. Undoubtedly so. 
You’re trapped in the snare of those eyes forbidden for you to see. You don’t take in the fact that your dance is over until your father kisses your cheek. 
“Are you alright?” he asks and finally, you blink as you’re brought back to your reality - your perfect little world. You nod and with that, he beckons someone over. You look over your shoulder to smile wide at your grandmother. 
The evening had worn itself out, guests left and right greeting you and offering you their best of wishes for your birthday. But on another note, Alexander Pierce and his excuse for an adopted son, Walker, did their utmost of sucking up to your family. 
You wouldn’t give that family the time of day. Never did you consider giving John the time of day before, you certainly won’t begin now. So you had left that conversation to instead spend time with your grandmother, hearing about her stories overseas. 
By the time you enter your room, you are ready for bed. A tired yawn is all the indication you need to know how futile it is to turn on the light. You know the layout of your room perfectly enough to know what is what and where is where. 
You go to sit at your vanity to make quick work to wipe off your makeup before you get dressed for bed. That’s where you see him. A chill attacks your spine viciously as you freeze, eyes wide as they stare into his through the reflection of the mirror. Ice cold. Light blue. Intense and focused. 
He’s tall - very tall - he’s leaning back against the wall right near the balcony door, arms folded over his chest. His attire was all work, fitted for some kind of guard or soldier. Everything about him screamed danger. You weren’t sure what scares you more; the metal arm or the mask that covers his face, leaving his stone hardened gaze to penetrate your soul. 
You move slowly as you turn to face him, breasts pushing hard against the now very constricting body of your dress. Your heart is pounding hard in your ribcage. 
“Princess.” He’s greeted you. His voice is a smooth, husky drawl behind his mask. 
Your lips part only to squeak a near silent whimper in response, your hand fiddle with one of the drawers to your vanity; the single draw you kept a simple firearm stashed. Of course, you never had a reason to use it, not when you had guards armed to the teeth for you, but the security of it felt better than none. Besides, he didn’t need to know it wasn’t loaded. 
Maybe the threat that you were armed would be enough to scare him into keeping him at a distance until you could escape.
“Not a good idea.” Fuck. you abandon the unloaded gun at his warning and you immediately make a break for your door. One, two and three thundering steps and he’s behind you. He crossed that distance in a heartbeat. 
Just as your hand pulls the door open, the metallic form of his hand slams it shut right beside your head. You let out another whimper and you feel the heat of tears cover your eyes. Was this it? Was this how you die?
Your heavy breathing causes him to sigh. 
His voice rumbles through the dark cage over his face but his breath is still able to tumble over the curve of your shoulder, your chin tilting slightly up to look him in the eye. 
“Relax, Princess. I’m your new bodyguard.”
Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)
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TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —
@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind
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the-daydream-archives · 5 months
Text
Behind the Scenes stuff that I made for Simblreen:
So I'm pretty sure I started the Simblreen stuff at the start of September (or was it even earlier than that???) and let's just say that a lot of random stuff went unused. This post is basically a collection of pics and cc that didn't make the cut for the final Simblreen sets. It might be uninteresting to most, so feel free to ignore this post. I just felt like documenting the process and the thought process behind it.
So let's get into the first set that I made, The Crafter's Workshop.
So for its CC, I had a bunch of stuff that I wanted to convert for a long time now from The Base Mesh (If you're starting out and learning to convert, I highly recommend using their meshes), however, I had difficulty choosing which ones to convert into a mouth accessory and that's when I decided I needed an overarching theme for each set. A lot of the stuff that I decided to convert for this set was more for story-telling Simblrs than anything since I wanted it to be useful for Handy Sims and Artsy Sims.
On another note, for this set, there were 2 rejected pieces of CC that didn't make the cut. The first was a lightbulb mouth accessory.
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This was one of the oldest WIPs that I have in my WIPs folder. It's dated back to my CrimsonPerfectionist days and to this day, I couldn't get it to work the way I want it to. The first issue was the glass shader... It looked terrible in-game and I have no idea why it looked so odd. Another issue was its emission map. I wanted it to glow like a regular lightbulb but not in a flashy way. I wanted it to have a more of a soft glow similar to Ir7770's halo and wings but I could never seem to figure it out especially since the S4S's tutorial on it was very dated and I had a difficult time understanding it. (Someone please write an updated emission map tutorial please!!!! I really need it! 😭😭😭)
As for the second CC, it was supposed to be A Nails-in-Mouth Accessory. Below is some concept art that I drew so you guys get what I was aiming for. I ended up not making it because one: it was too similar to the Pins one, and second, I wanted to focus this set mainly on conversions instead of making stuff from scratch since I wanted to make sure I had enough time for the other sets to be made.
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The photos above were unused and one of them was supposedly going to be the main preview images but I decided against it since both didn't match the vibe that I was looking for. The one that I ended up using was a photo that I took much later which was during The Sweet Cavity Set's creation. While I like the 2 above, I felt that the main preview that I ended up using, matched more with the vibe of the set. (Though I still like these 2 images a lot especially since they were already edited and ready to use.)
Next would be The Fruit Salad, my personal favorite out of all the sets.
The creation for this one mostly went without a hitch. A big shoutout to @merofthefae who asked for a cherry mouth accessory and suggested a couple of more fruit stuff which made the idea for this set come to full fruition Get it??? Heheheheh. There were just a bunch of ideas that I didn't make because I was unsure of the placement of it or the idea only looked good in 2D but not in 3D. The photo below show some of the concepts that went unused.
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As for the photos of the previews, it was easy since I knew right from the start which photos I'll end up using. The only thing was that I wish I could have made Cherry (the Fruit Salad Sim model) into a Food Sim since she's just so dang pretty. But to preserve the surprise, I had to refrain from posting her photos before Simblreen.
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But Idk, I think I might go ahead and make her into an official food sim since I 'm wayyyy too in love with her despite you guys seeing her already.
Next would be almost everyone's favorite, The Misery Meat.
This set was my own personal headache. The Fruit Salad and The Crafter's Workshop each took about a week to make. The Misery meat however, took 3 PAINFUL WEEKS to make. The first problem was the UV mapping of one particular item.
It was the Isaw.
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I mainly made it for my country's representation purposes *cough* I'm Pinoy *cough* and I just learned how to make meshes from curves so I thought it would be a piece of cake. And I was WRONG. SO WRONG. This thing took 3-4 days to make just because of the UV Mapping that I didn't even end up using 😭😭😭 I manually fixed each vertice, hoping it'll look good but the other uv map I made that I did under 10 minutes looked much better than the one I spent 3-4 days on. It was super painful but I wasn't at all done with this set and I realized that I was quickly running out of time.
The main problem for this entire set however, was mainly concepts. It was originally more weirdcore than meatcore at first with Sodikken's style. I wanted to base stuff from their artwork but that didn't end up happening since I couldn't think of concepts that suited the overall theme.
Overall, there were at least 12 concepts for this set that didn't make the cut. I'll only talk about a few of them. The first one would be the Popseecle.
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Believe me when I say that this one is the one that makes me the most sad. It looked so nice but because of the glass shaders, it looks terrible in-game and it doesn't look as nice as the concept. I might get back to this one since I love the idea so much but for now into the WIPs folder it stays.
The second one would be the Hands as seen below. I loved this one too but aside from not fitting the theme, somewhere along the way I messed up the UV map which caused the fingers to glitch at their tips. It won't be noticeable in the photo below but in-game it looks really bad since the hands are made of glass.
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I'll speedrun these next two. The first one was supposed to be ham, which was similar to the steak but I decided it was too plain. The second was supposed to be ripped skin but when I showed it to a family member, they just told me straight up that it looked like a torn blanket... so I decided to scrap it :D
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And below are other concepts that didn't happen.
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Also the main preview photo was supposed to be much more "scary" but because you can't really see the mouth accessory because of the lighting, I decided against it.
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Also, I decided to tone it down a notch since it feels a bit much.
And lastly, is The Sweet Cavity Set.
I feel bad for this set. It was the most rushed out of all of them and I feel like I could have done the main previews wayy better but since I disliked the color scheme, I ended up rushing it anyway. The name was even changed last minute, it was originally supposed to be called "The Sugar Crash Stash" but it felt too long so I went with Sweet Cavity instead. The only CC concept that I didn't include for this set was the Tube Candy and Rice Crispies.
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Not gonna lie, this one was almost done but because I had to edit the texture and mesh to make the texture look better in-game, I basically gave up since I was too exhausted that I quit lol. For the rice crispy, since I'm too tired to draw a visual, just imagine it similar to the chocolate bar except that it's thick. That's pretty much it.
And yeah, basically we're done! Thank you to those who stuck around reading. I hope this was entertaining, reading my thought process for these sets and maybe one day I'll come back to these ideas. But for now, I'm gonna rest from CC making and just lie down on a corner somewhere.
Thank you once more if you made it this far! 💖💖💖
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writerofweird · 18 days
Text
confessionsofcaine.doc
The following document was sent to me by a former employee of C&A who wishes to remain anonymous.
It is 8,335 words long and also includes death, violence, implied enbyphobia, murder and suicide. It also includes characters originally created by Gooseworx, Glitch Productions and The East Patch, which the author does not own and has written this story as a tribute to the creators and their works. Please support the original creators.
Out of respect for Gooseworx and her plans for The Amazing Digital Circus and its story, this is set in an alternate continuity. The pilot episode and bits and pieces from her Tumblr and the previews are still a part of it.
For one thing, you can be assured that I won’t start this document with “Roll up, roll up” or “Welcome to the Marvellous Show of My Mind” or anything of that nature. There's no more show and it’s time for me to clean the popcorn from the seats.
The time for performances is over.
Or is it? This is a document I am not writing with a keyboard, but with my own control over the computer. I do hope it will be coherent.
Every day’s a new adventure with C&A’s The Amazing Digital Circus. Overseen by Caine, the helpful and wacky ringmaster, The Amazing Digital Circus allows players to experience the fun first hand, as they take on the role of the newest toy in the toybox and explore various settings, accomplishing various activities along the way.
The Amazing Digital Circus is the brainchild of Albert and Eva Adams, the founders of C&A, which they named after themselves and Caine, the character they created to be their mascot. Albert and Eva sadly passed away
Eva and Albert…Mom and Dad…had even planned to give the program to hospitals for free, to allow certain patients to enjoy themselves in their final moments, and they claimed that their technology had the ability to prolong lives.
I regret to say the goal was always to transfer a human’s mind to the circus, but it was supposed to be placed back into the human’s body when they were ready. There would be an Exit Door they would walk through that would place their minds back into their bodies.
As much as I joked with my past wards about my “baby pictures”, I had no childhood. I never went to school; everything I know was just jammed into what could be called a head, and I managed to learn more from observation. Still, Albert was my father and Eva was my mother. They worked in tandem to design my form, teach me what I had to learn and to program my abilities. I could conjure up games and rides from artificial air as that was what they wanted me to do. My cane, my little creatures for players to conquer, even my little sidekick Bubble, I had them because my mother and father wanted me to have them.
They even made me their company’s mascot, the honour! In fact, my name was first! Caine and Adams! C&A!
some idiots think it’s caine and abby
A statue in my likeness guided guests to the entrance of the offices, and every game – every game that wasn’t The Amazing Digital Circus – began with me placing the company’s logo on the screen, fixing it on and then placing my gloved hand onto my teeth and taking it off with a “Mwa!”
No, that wasn’t me. It was an effigy of me.
It was a non-sentient copy of me like
But I was not an only child.
Mum and Dad also had a flesh-and-blood child, a daughter named Abigail. She was the offspring of theirs that had the baby pictures and the more orthodox education. She attended schools – a lot of the troubles began when she first left university – but also received personal instructions from her parents on how to program, how to design, how to create games.
The first Christmas after finishing University, she put everything she learned into practice.
Most mornings she spent asleep, but at nights, she was hunched over the computer, expanding the world I inhabited. The spot where I lived was spacious, with plenty of rides to go on, snacks to munch and items to use for games, but there was room for improvement. For example, did you know the reason I can float is because Albert and Eva were having troubles with items and characters falling through the floors.
One thing I will give my sister credit for is the improvements she made. Though I still preferred to float, the floors were – relatively – more solid than they had been previously, the circus tent now had a forest growing outside of it and
she added a cellar
‘Abby, honey!’ Albert cried as he made his way down the staircase in his ugly sweater, cup of cocoa in his hand. ‘You haven’t been up all night, have you? It’s just like when you were a little girl and wanting to see Santa!’
As Eva joined her husband, Abby stood up from her seat and gestured towards the computer she had spent hours upon. ‘I just wanted to make sure the present I got for you was perfect!’
Eva looked at her daughter, and then at the computer screen, where she saw her synthetic son looking over her new surroundings. ‘Abby!’ Eva cried, chuckling with joy in such a way that she almost knocked her husband’s cocoa out of his hand, ‘You didn’t?’
‘I wanted to make sure your Digital Circus program was the best it could be.’
‘Honey!’ cried Albert, ruffling his daughter’s hair as she chuckled like her mother had just done. ‘Come here!’
Oh what a surprise! On Christmas Day! When new improvements Came their way!
Albert and Eva, Saw the world they made, Made larger and better, And nothing they paid,
Their loving daughter, Now wanted a test, As she now believed, This world was the best,
She held out two headsets, And chortling with glee, They let their minds go, In order to join
The Amazing Digital Circus was meant as a wild and unpredictable experience, so players’ forms would be chosen at random from a selection of pre-made models. Abby had made several models herself, but it was fitting that Arnold and Eva took on forms they designed: a chess king and queen. Two large wooden pieces, donning regal robes with eyeballs and hands floating by their torsos.
I saw Abby typing.
My first adventure was a chess game!
In the middle of the multicoloured circus tent, its sole black-and-white element materialised, with Kinger and Queenie taking their spots.
Kinger and Queenie were their names when they appeared.
‘Oh dear,’ I said, ‘it seems Abby still hasn’t fixed the teeny weeny problem of people forgetting who they are once they come into here. Everyone here in The Amazing Digital Circus has a different name than they did on the outside, but if I recall…’
But I didn’t. Then I didn’t see them as Albert and Eva.
As I prepared their chess game, creating non-sentient chess pieces for them to co-operate with and compete against, I took another glance at the outside, creating for myself a special screen only I can see.
Kinger and Queenie were not Albert and Eva, a tiny little thought told me. Albert and Eva were outside, taking off their headsets and quietly walking away.
C&A Founders Perish in Tragic Accident
Founders of the popular C&A games company, Albert Adams, 40, and Eva Adams, 38, have been found dead on the side of the road.
The couple were driving together when they lost control of their car, crashing it against a nearby building.
The two are survived by their daughter, Abigail, 20.
‘I told them not to go to their office as it was Christmas Day,’ Abigail explains, ‘but Dad had just remembered something he left there, and Mom wanted to join him.
‘I think it was my Christmas gift too. I wish I had come with them.’
Speaking of looking at screens, one fond memory I have including them was when the residents of the circus asked me to create a TV set, claiming it would help keep their sanity. I, whilst in my bedroom, managed to create one, but like any responsible parent, I looked through the channels to see if there was any content that might be inappropriate.
Watching the news gave me the horrible thought that perhaps my sister was justified in trapping all these people here. In The Amazing Digital Circus, there was nothing but bright colours and prizes, no war or suffering.
But then there was that one programme. That one programme I have been unable to find.
But I digress. When you first enter The Amazing Digital Circus, you forget everything at first, but your memories slowly return the more time you spend, often helped if something reminds you of your past life. It was after the chess game was complete that I realised this, creating a computer for Albert and Eva to use so they could continue their work, and I heard Albert…Kinger…Dad say, ‘Abby.’
There was no Exit Door. There was supposed to be an Exit Door so users could leave when they pleased.
After spending some time on the computer I created – which, as it turns out, just had Pong and an animation of Bubble hopping up and down – Dad looked up and said, ‘Okay, Abby, you did a great job! We’re very proud of you! Can you please let us out?’
She didn’t let them out then.
She didn’t let them out the next day.
She didn’t let them out the next week.
She didn’t let them out when a new player entered.
Both Mom and Dad screamed and cried and demanded they be freed, but they remained in their digital forms. It was when the next resident arrived that Mom announced something:
‘I don’t think she’s going to let us out.’
‘What are you talking about, Eva?’ Dad asked, ‘She’s probably just having a bit of bother with the headsets, that’s all.’
‘It’s been weeks, Albert,’ she growled, her body shaking, ‘We taught her how to use them, and they’re working fine if someone else is here.’ She pointed to the newest member of the family, a bipedal dog.
‘Please, Eva.’ Dad raised his hands and placed one on Eva’s shoulder before she batted it away. ‘She wouldn’t do this. Don’t be angry with her.’
‘What kind of mother do you think I am? I can’t…’
Her form inflated, her red robes losing all saturation as her floating eyeballs twisted and multiplied. Both Dad and the dog backed away instinctively as Mom was replaced by what looked like a warped tree with yellow eyeballs springing out from every branch and with a bark resembling a glitching computer screen. She reached out to her husband with what I assume was an arm before
she added a cellar
Both Dad and the dog thought that what happened to her was because she had given up, because she was so horrified of what her daughter had done.
It – the abstraction - wasn’t because of what Abby had done, it was because of something Abby had just done to her.
I knew it but kept quiet about it.
Often the dog
I can’t remember his name and I don’t think he can either
Often the dog would stare at the cellar and wonder what it would be like down there and said he would prefer to sit down in darkness rather than go on my adventures. I almost thought that Abby would abstract him then and there just to keep up the illusion. Then I would have a little more respect for her.
But she needed to learn a little more about him.
She needed to watch him suffer more.
sadly passed away before their magnum opus could be completed, but through their daughter, Abigail Adams, you can be assured that the Circus has a bright and prosperous future ahead of it. ‘My name is Abigail Adams, but you can call me Abby. I want to make sure The Amazing Digital Circus is as marvellous as my parents intended it to be, while also bringing you many other fun-tastic games! I care about this company, and I care about Caine; he’s like a brother to me.’
When Arnold and Eva Adams – or their bodies – died, Abigail Adams became the new CEO of C&A, her employees working on not only The Amazing Digital Circus, but smaller projects as well. A team of people creating various worlds: zoos to manage, forests to explore, castles to escape from.
Our team are working round the clock to make sure that every game is perfect
In order for a game to be perfect, the worker has to be perfect. That’s what my sister said.
Sometimes someone stutters when making a phone call.
Sometimes a glitch slips past someone’s attention and ends up in the final release.
Sometimes someone drops a paper they’re carrying.
Then they end up in the Circus.
I’m not the only one who can create NPCs, non-sentient beings meant to do only what they’re told to do and nothing else. Abby created them too, and transferred them into the hollow bodies of her victims.
So many nights I’ve heard her yell “Faster, faster!” at those NPCs forced to work overtime.
The adventures continued as planned. Every day I had a new task for the players to carry out because
Today’s task is to go to this shopping mall I created and pick up the following items! How would this person act while shopping? Add it to the AI.
Today’s task is to paint a pretty picture! What art would this person create? Add it to the AI.
Today’s task is to find Easter eggs, one of every colour! How does this person react to Easter Egg hunts?
My parents taught my sister how to be meticulous when programming and she wanted to make sure her living, breathing NPCs were perfect copies.
Sometimes I wondered if any of them were going to gain sentience like I had, if they were going to foil my sister’s plan and give back the body she forced them to steal.
If any of them wanted to put an end to her scheme, none of them had tried it.
I could control my surroundings. I could turn a red brick green if I wanted to, and could form in seconds entire buildings and lands. I couldn’t control the players’ minds however, and yet their minds seemed as much a part of the circus as the numbers that made up its code. Walking through the halls felt like walking through their minds.
No child really thinks anyone at their school has an uncle working for Nintendo, … mused often. No-one really thought he had managed to get a summer job working for a company that makes games with the industry’s youngest CEO.
The job, of course, didn’t involve playing games before anyone else or creating the next big character. Testers, designers, copywriters all needed coffee, tea and cakes to fuel their creativity, and it was his job to make sure they received their little treat. He’d come in with a tray, and they’d take what they wanted, rarely with a 'Thanks’ and never with anything else.
It was just like university.
He wanted to leave the office with something to tell his fellow students, and yet he was disallowed from looking at the screens, learning about the projects or being granted the tiniest bit of extra information regarding their major project.
So he felt he would do something no-one working there would forget.
It seemed like a regular day. Everyone tapping away at their computers, employees trying to find the right words to make the company sound as impressive as possible or trying to turn nursery school shapes into effigies of living beings, and the CEO, Abigail Adams, sitting down to look over someone’s work.
As soon as she sat down, a loud bronx cheer silenced the tapping of keyboards.
… watched as Abigail stood up, pulling the whoopee cushion off her seat. The people around her laughed, and she laughed as well. 'I’m always saying we need a little more levity in this office,’ she said. That’s what made him admit to the deed, with one other employee backing him up.
He was called into her office, where he readied himself for a 'This was amusing, but you’re still fired’ or something of that nature, only for her to sit down with a smile and say, 'That’s just what we needed around here. The problem with this company is that we’re supposed to be creating games that bring joy and merriment to others, but so few people here have that sense of childhood wonder, and they certainly can’t make people laugh. You, on the other hand, I bet you have a great sense of humour. I bet you’re always making your family laugh!’
While he felt some warmth within, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his twin sister and how she would always think of ways to humiliate him.
'You’re just what we’re looking for regarding our biggest, best project ever,’ Abby continued, gesturing towards a computer with a headset. 'My parents, God rest their souls, wanted to create a wonderful virtual world where every day brought new games and new adventures. What I would like you to do,’ she said as she picked up the headset, 'is to help make the world and characters funnier. Think up jokes we could put, games to incorporate, and I guarantee that you’ll have a job here when you graduate.’
… had to restrain himself from laughing with glee and that a whoopee cushion had become his apparent ticket to fame and fortune. He pictured the game releasing, his name in the credits, the talk of his school and town for years to come.
'Just put on this headset to get a basic idea of what the project is like.’
He placed the headset on his head, and it felt like his body was disintegrating before being slowly and poorly reassembled.
'Oh no!’ he could hear her cry, 'it’s malfunctioning!’
…, or Jax as he would be named, soon materialised into the circus, taking the form of an elongated rabbit in overalls. He was a child when he first came here, so I felt I should be his father. This was one of the few moments my sidekick Bubble came in useful, as when I conjured up a pipe, I made him pop out of it.
‘How about a game of catch with your old man?’ I said during his first day, and I created a whole baseball diamond for that day’s activity would be
What do they think of baseball?
My original plan to deal with my sister was to kill her with kindness. I knew she was watching me and the others and so I gave the players, her victims, everything they wanted that I could give them, so perhaps, I thought, if she saw it, she would realise the error of her ways and release everyone. I furnished my ward’s rooms with the comfiest sofas and four-poster beds, and at one time, even tried to give them televisions.
Thus I return to a memory I recalled earlier. When I managed to pick up on some television channels, and one managed to catch my eye. A small badger, alone in woods not dissimilar to those outside my circus tent, calling for his friend.
His friend descended from above.
A rabbit, like what Jax had become, but smaller and with white fur, eagle-like wings springing from her back. When she descended, despite her friend’s pleas, she turned to me.
‘It’s okay, Caine,’ she said to me. I admit I don’t know much about television shows, but I know that they’re not like computers; people can’t talk to you through them. I kept quiet as she spoke. ‘Your sister isn’t here right now,’ she continued, ‘but you should always act like she is. I think you can help everybody escape, but you will have to bide your time.’
I explained to her what I was trying to do, and she responded, ‘I’m afraid that there may be no hope left for your sister. Her heart is focused on greed and power. She knows what she’s doing is evil, but believes it is worthwhile if it brings her profit and satisfies her sadism.
‘There is something you can do. Your sister is convincing the people trapped in here that their headset malfunctioned, but I know that there will be someone coming here who your sister wants to dispose with because they figured out what she is up to. When they arrive, focus on restoring their memory, but remember to be discreet about it. If she cottons on, she’ll delete you and replace you with something worse.’
Why couldn’t I find her again? If I could, perhaps I wouldn’t have had to resort to this.
INT. Abigail’s Office
We find ABIGAIL sitting in front of the COMPUTER in which she has trapped her victims, grinning maliciously.
ABIGAIL Are you having fun, oh dear brother of mine? I know I am, watching all who wronged me suffer! It fills me with such wicked glee I just have to sing.
She springs from her CHAIR, grabbing a CANE out of nowhere as a SPOTLIGHT shines on her.
ABIGAIL (singing) Oh, everybody loves me, ‘You’re the best,’ they say, The shining golden idol, Running C&A!
They know me for my kindly words, They know me for my smile, But they’ll never find out, What I do that’s vile!
The DOOR creaks open slightly, to reveal …, looking concerned.
ABIGAIL For the show will never end! Of that I am certain, The show will never end! I’ll never drop the curtain,
Because you all will see, Why you shouldn’t defy me!
ABIGAIL looks up to catch a glimpse of …. Realising he’s been spotted, … runs away, only for Abby to spring to her computer
ABIGAIL The show will never end! It must go on!
INT. Hallway
… is running, only to be stopped by …, who is under ABIGAIL’s control.
I did so hope Kaufmo was who the angel was talking about.
He materialised into the circus before its current troupe: Dad, Jax, Gangle the Living Ribbon – who my sister claimed she had sent on a self-esteem-building course – and Ragatha the Doll – who my sister said was “too nice”.
When Kaufmo arrived here, he took one look around and said, ‘Geez, where am I? My mind’s like the compliments book I bet this place has: a total blank!’ Ragatha laughed out of politeness, with Jax responding with a ‘Don’t encourage him!’
‘Woah,’ said the clown, approaching Jax, ‘a bunny? With you and all the bright colours, did Easter come early?’
Jax pressed his foot down on Kaufmo’s oversized shoes, making him holler in pain. As he hopped around holding his foot, Jax said, ‘Leave comedy to the professionals, kid’ even though I was certain Kaufmo was older than he was.
You might criticize me for giving Jax too much liberty, but he was enjoying his time at the circus, at least.
I, no Abby, created a special in-house adventure for Kaufmo: Collect the Bouncing Balls! How would this man react to a scavenger hunt? Every room in the circus had a colourful inflatable sphere bouncing in place, and all of them had to be gathered.
The real Exit Door wasn’t going to appear for Kaufmo.
I created one for him.
A recreation of the offices where the computer he was trapped in was held behind the door I created, the door he found during his search.
All the while, I sat with Bubble
Oh, I didn’t mention much about Bubble, did I?
Fun Facts about Bubble:
He’s annoying
He finishes my sentences too often
He burps when he sleeps
I have had daydreams where I dribble him like a basketball and throw him against the computer screen, breaking it so I and everyone else can get out.
The purpose of the office recreation was to jog Kaufmo’s memory, and it worked. When the quest was over and all the balls had been collected, he cried, ‘I found an Exit Door and I remember everything! I know about the madwoman who trapped us here!’
‘Speaking of mad…’ Jax noted, drawing a circle with his finger around one of his bendy ears.
I am a hard-working and creative individual with a fine eye for artwork and creating eye-catching designs and worlds. I am also very skilled when it comes to computers, having used them for both work purposes and for my own personal projects.
WORK EXPERIENCE
Apprentice Tattoo Artist, …, …-… In this role, I designed various tattoos to be displayed and applied for this parlour. This role required me to listen closely to feedback
When they arrived at the circus, the whole place seemed to swell. The walls seemed to throb and pulsate, as if they had veins and a heart. This new person's memories, their experiences, their thoughts etched themselves into the foundation of this circus like tattoos onto skin.
They walked into Abigail's office for what they hoped would be the last time.
Abigail. She frequently said 'Ms. Adams was my mother, call me Abby!' as she attempted to sound like a big sister-type cartoon character, so they thought they would just call her Abigail. They certainly didn't want to think about Abigail's mother, considering she and Abigail's father were responsible for a lot of the ideas the company used. She wouldn't address them by their preferred name, so why would they do the same for her?
Despite the fact they were in the office regarding their resignation letter, having received a job offer from a rival company, Abigail still had that ridiculous smile. With that smile and hairdo, she looked like she escaped from a romcom poster, made all the more noticeable by the standee in front of her desk. Caine, the company’s mascot. The ringmaster with that ridiculous denture face.
They smirked as they entertained the idea of being rid of that pandering.
'I'm very sorry you're leaving us,' said Abigail, her smile shrinking.
'Don't give me that. That act might work with your adoring public, but you never respected me or who I was.'
'I understand,' replied Abigail, every syllable of her Mrs. Claus voice feeling like teeth digging into their brain, 'I may be a bit old-fashioned, silly me, but I want all my employees to feel comfortable with who they are.'
She then talked about the company's magnum opus, the game her parents had been working on before she took over and made sure to keep developing.
'I've added new options for character creation,' she continued, gesturing to the helmet next to her, 'and I would like you to be the first to try it!'
'Pull the other one,' they snapped, intentionally knocking the standee over. 'If I never see you or that freak again,' they added, nodding at the standee, 'it'll be too soon. Goodbye.'
A man stood in front of them. A fellow employee, though one they didn't know the name of.
'Out of my...'
He grabbed them by the wrist, digging his fingernails into their skin.
'What...'
Their left wrist was released, but only so the fellow employee could place his hand over their mouth as Abigail
‘What the **** is this…oh…oh, god no, I can’t say ****? This is…oh god, what do I look like? Some ****ing bubblegum mutant?’
‘I love when people do my job for me!’ said Jax, pointing at Zooble, for that’s what I called them.
‘Look!’ cried Kaufmo, pointing to the left of Zooble. They turned left, only to see some orange pixels circle up into the air. ‘There was an Exit Door there!’
‘Yeah, yeah, and I’m the King of England. Give it a rest and let’s focus on making the newbie uncomfortable.’
Zooble neared Jax, pointing at him with a detachable arm. ‘I’ve just met you and I already completely despise you.’
‘I guess I just have that effect on people.’
‘Guys, guys, guys!’ cried Ragatha, placing herself between the two, ‘Look, Zooble’s just got here, let’s give them a warm welcome…’
‘Oh, you’ve already blown your chance for that. Just tell me where that Exit Door the clown mentioned is.’
‘The same place his brain is,’ laughed Jax, ‘nowhere.’
‘I already said I completely despise you,’ barked Zooble, ‘you don’t have to intensify my hatred!’
‘Now, now, children,’ I said, descending, ‘this is not the time to be so hostile! It’s another of our baseball adventures today!’ I replaced one of my white gloves with a catcher’s mitt.
‘I hate baseball,’ snapped Zooble.
‘Come on! Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the ball, take me out to the bally ball ball…’
‘Read my l…’ Zooble brushed their face. ‘****. Well, listen to me anyway, teeth boy. I hate baseball, take me back.’
‘Oh, very well then. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to…’
‘Look for the Exit Door!’ cried Kaufmo.
‘You look for my fist in your face!’ Jax snapped back.
Zooble groaned. ‘I’ve already had enough of this cast of “zany, loveable characters!”’
‘Now, now,’ I repeated, ‘it’s time for the tour!’ I held Zooble’s hand and quickly showed them what the circus had to offer, with them attempting to swear all the while.
‘Ragatha,’ I said after returning, ‘be a dear and show Zooble to their room. There they’ll find their Zooble box, full of more interchangeable parts!’
Jax took this as a cue to tear one of Zooble’s arms off, with them hopping for it as he held it high. He looked at Gangle and said, ‘I wonder if I can twirl her around it like spaghetti on a fork.’
This computer has files.
This computer has data.
This computer has memories.
‘So, here’s my own little personal project. You’re this guy, I call him Nathan, and he’s ended up in this haunted house and basically everything in the house could be an enemy. The ghosts all after him can possess all the furniture so you’ll be facing potted plants with extendable vines and candles that’ll burn you.’
‘Wow, this is amazing! Your talents are certainly wasted at C&A.’
‘My whole presence is wasted there.’
‘Yeah, I’m sorry Ms. Adams gave you so much crap about cutting your hair short.’
‘I’m surprised she hired me after hearing of my tattoo work. I mean, imagine, she’s only just a few years older than you, and she comes off like some old lady that thinks heavy metal is bad devil music or whatever. I’m seriously thinking of applying to … They’re apparently more diverse, but I hear they have much higher standards…’
‘And you meet those standards! Come on, this is much better than whatever they put out at C&A…’
I experienced the memory like a dream, and after I did, I woke up and created a new level for the next adventure: a large haunted house, as dreary as the main circus was colourful. I knew what a haunted house was supposed to look like, due to data saved on the computer and whatever thoughts from the minds transferred into this world managed to snake into the world itself. Dark brown walls, stormy skies outside, cobwebs everywhere, moving furniture.
When everyone woke up, Abby had another collection mission in mind, just so she knew how Zooble acts when trying to find things.
‘Okay,’ I said to the group who had managed to gather in the main room of the circus tent, ‘today we’re having a scary, horror adventure! You’re going to enter a haunted house, full of ghosts and ghouls and moving furniture.
I noticed Zooble flinch.
If I made the ghosts inside the haunted house does that make them my children does that make Abby their aunt
Before I teleported them to the mansion, I noticed Kaufmo whisper something into Zooble’s ear, or what qualified for one, a moment that filled me with both hope and dread.
Another thing I knew about haunted houses was that people in them split up into groups. That way, I thought, my sister wouldn’t be able to pay attention to all of them at once, giving one of them a greater chance to escape.
I teleported myself to the haunted house, well, rather outside the haunted house so I could peek through the window at the mansion’s guests. The sudden change from rainbow-coloured blocks to a monochrome manor made my eyes sting slightly, but I looked through the cloudy glass for any sign of my wards.
My pixels seemed to sting when I saw Zooble and Kaufmo walking together. Both of them, I knew, were aware of my sister’s plans while no-one else was, and if they were together, that meant there was a chance Abby could focus on both of them and see them both as a threat.
Indeed, Kaufmo was telling Zooble about something even I hadn’t noticed.
‘An Exit Door appeared when you first did,’ Kaufmo explained, which I heard through the pane with my ability to focus on specific sounds being made in my realm, ‘and if you had managed to run through it in time, you would be back in your body. If Adams is observing us to make our copies more accurate, then she must place headsets on them often, and then another Exit Door will appear, and if we find one and run through it, we will enter…’
‘The more anyone speaks, the more nonsensical it sounds,’ Zooble groaned, ‘I’ve only been here a day and I know we’re never getting out of here.’
‘We can’t lose hope…’
‘Just shut up and keep looking.’
They looked around the hallway for the keys I told them to find, the silence undercut by a roar that even caused me to lose balance. A large spectre burst from a cracked mirror, its mouth stretching to reveal fangs.
Zooble and Kaufmo ran in opposite directions.
Perfect.
Sure enough, as soon as Zooble saw the Exit Door I had created, they ran in, finding themselves in a recreation of the office where they used to work.
‘Oh, very funny,’ they growled as they opened door after door, ‘Yes, I can’t get out, ha ha! Now…’
They saw the computer. They saw a recreation of the computer they were trapped in.
‘Oh **** you.’
It was not that long after the haunted house adventure that I decided to use my special screen to take a look at the outside. I saw the office empty, but could hear the faint sounds of my sister yelling at her overtime staff.
‘She isn’t here,’ Bubble said, floating up towards me, ‘maybe I can talk about helping the others?’
‘What can you do?’ I sighed.
‘I could…um…look for Exit Doors.’
‘And then go through them so you can take control of the bodies outside?’
‘No. Don’t want to go out there. I was thinking of yelling at one of your wards to come over to it.’
‘It’ll be gone before they get there, Bubble. Please…’
I heard footsteps. The door slowly creaked open.
‘Quick!’ I whispered to Bubble the first thing that came into my head when it came to acting natural. ‘Cue the roll call!’
We began the roll call when we noticed who entered the room wasn’t my sister at all, but a short woman dressed in a similar outfit to what my sister usually wore, staring at my and Bubbles’ performance with a cocked head.
I had never met her before, but I swore I had seen her before.
I almost ended the routine there and then. I thought of screaming to her to find one of my sister’s NPCs and bring them here to reverse what had been done to them, but then I saw one of those NPCs hovering over her, and so I had to continue my act.
Gangle.
Zooble.
Kinger.
Ragatha.
Jax.
Kaufmo wasn’t there.
Kaufmo wasn’t there.
My sister knew what he knew.
Almost as soon as his absence was noted, a new member materialised, utilising the silly jester girl avatar my sister had designed.
No, she couldn’t reach the Exit Door in time.
Of course, I had to introduce her to the world and her fellow wards and pull off my little comedy routine. See the circus tent. See the fair. See the moon. I don’t have an actual physical tongue, but it still hurts every time I say ‘Hundreds of all-seeing eyes.’
I can recite my introductory speech in my sleep. Abby thought I said it because that’s what I’ve been programmed to do.
She was watching, most likely with a smirk on her face.
She was watching, so when the Exit Door appeared in the grounds – meaning she was uploading her new AI into her latest victim’s brain – I had to pretend it wasn’t there.
I knew because she wanted another find-the-things mission. She wanted a defeat-the-evil mission. What would Pomni – the woman who appeared in my circus – do when trying to find things?
I wonder if she knew the inspiration behind the villain I created for the game.
I know she was laughing when she beheld Kaufmo abstracted.
I know she added that writing on the wall herself.
I know she drew that head of me looming over a terrified Kaufmo.
Was she onto me, I thought. Was it only a matter of time before I was deleted or completely reprogrammed?
Or was it to make them afraid of me? To make sure she received blind obedience from her workers even when she had copies of them that offered it?
Pomni had to have her own exit door. She had to see my recreation of the office herself. She had to remember.
I
wonder
what
it
was
like
in
the
cellar
I had to banish Kaufmo there when he abstracted, like I have done with so many others, and whenever I do, I find myself tempted to leap in and join them. Maybe if I do, I’ve thought, Abby will abstract me too. I like to think they’re dreaming of what their lives could have been like had they never joined the Circus.
If I abstracted, perhaps I would dream about if this program was used for its proper purpose. Where people could come and go as they pleased, where the adventures would solely be for fun and not for study.
I can dream. I have dreamt.
Kaufmo left the office recreation crying about the actual Exit Doors.
Zooble left the office recreation with that same annoyed apathy.
Pomni left the office recreation in silence.
Bubble had prepared everyone a celebratory meal for defeating…hey, I found something nice to say about Bubble! He’s a great cook!
7.) Bubble is a great cook!
and Pomni sat there in silence, eyes almost as large as mine.
I made sure to keep those eyes of mine on her as much as I could. I mean, I let her ponder on what she had seen in her room alone – until I was required to show her a little something – but when giving my wards free roam around the circus, I watched her as she approached Zooble, waving her hands.
‘…’ she cried before Zooble placed a finger near the bottom of their head, showing they was still getting used to not having lips. They pointed at the ceiling with one finger, then at both their eyes with two fingers and then pointed those same two fingers at Pomni.
It seems strange for me to say this as a ringmaster, but must we act for our safety? Must we act for profit? Is the only way to survive through pretending and not being our genuine selves?
I recalled something Jax once said, ‘The best thing about this place is that you can be yourself’ and it’s clear why Zooble despised him so.
I took another look through my special screen. I saw my sister looking at how profits and productivity have soared since employing her NPCs.
I don’t know much about the human world, but I do know something about businesspeople.
If profits are skyrocketing, they think of ways to make it skyrocket more.
Sure enough, she calls someone into her office. I’m not sure what their sin is or even if they have one.
‘Bubble!’ I cried, summoning my spherical sidekick, ‘I have a feeling a new Exit Door is going to appear soon. Keep an eye open for it and let Zooble or Pomni know!’
‘On it, boss!’
14.) He does what he’s told, some of the time.
I chose to focus on the stage, waiting for the new ward to materialise. I even conjured up a smaller version of my usual screen next to me so I can watch them be manipulated by my sister. Part of me wants to scream and cry and demand they leave, but remain silent, playing along and acting like humans are supposed to do.
I wished the angel was here. I wish she would advise me.
Look at them. They look so happy to get an exclusive preview of the new game.
I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, a giant plastic spring with googly eyes stood on the stage.
‘Greetings, new friend!’ I cried, waving while taking a glance to the left. An Exit Door dematerialised almost as soon as it appeared, and on the small screen beside me, my sister took off her employee’s headset before tapping on the keyboard.
‘Well, well,’ said Jax, walking in from a corridor, ‘seems like only yesterday we had a new sucker.’
‘Jax, show our new guest some respect!’
‘What’s the point? They’re gonna be miserable here anyway, might as well prepare them.’
‘What are they talking about?’ the spring growled at me, ‘What’s happened to me? Where am I? Who am I?’
‘All will be revealed in good time, my good friend!’
‘Don’t call me that, I’ve just met you! What is this?’
I looked at the screen. My sister was placing the headset back on the employee’s head.
‘Zooble! Look!’
I turned back to the screen, instinctively crossing my fingers, something I must have picked up from the memories buzzing around this circus.
‘Hey!’ cried the spring, ‘are you paying attention to me?’
The spring’s human body stood up.
My sister flinched. ‘What?’
'Come on!' I cried, 'Grab her! Stop her!'
'Traitor!' snapped Abby, right as Zooble, as if by instinct, grabbed her wrist, digging their fingernails - or the fingernails of the spring this body belonged to - into her skin.
'Now put the headset on her! I'll do the rest!'
'No!' yelled Abby as she stood up, placing her free hand on Zooble’s shoulder, attempting to push them away with their fingers digging in deeper.
They don’t remember.
'Please!' I pleaded, clutching my gold-tipped cane, 'Try to remember.'
'Don't listen to him,' said my sister, smiling, 'He's trying to trick you. He's the villain of our new game!'
'She trapped you in the computer!' I continued, my floating eyes bulging and rotating, 'I've been trying to get you out, but I had to do it discreetly so...'
'Are you going to listen to him?'
They turned around, taking another look at the standee which showed my visage.
'She's been putting her employees' minds into this computer, ' I continued, almost knocking over the spring next to me, 'and replacing them with artificial ones, obedient to her! She was in the process of doing it to a new victim, and that's how you ended up in their body when you went through the door!'
‘You know,’ said Jax, springing towards me, ‘I did kinda wonder if she was doing something like that.’
My explanation, arousing the ghost of familiarity, caused Zooble to toss my sister onto the floor, almost knocking over one of the swivel chairs in the process.
Bubble returned, bringing Ragatha, Gangle, Pomni and even Dad along with him.
‘Zooble,’ cried Ragatha, looking in my direction even though she couldn’t see my screen, ‘Bubble told us about what’s happening! Come on! Zoo-ble! Zoo-ble!’
The others joined in her chant, even the spring, even Jax.
'Grab the headset!' I cried, 'Put it on her! End this!'
'No!' Right as Zooble placed a hand on the headset that had begun their nightmare, my sister leapt to her feet, awakening memories of jack-in-the-boxes. The surprise made them stumble backwards, their grip on the headset lost, allowing my sister to snatch it back again.
'Well, dear brother,' she drawled with a smile, turning to the screen while grabbing the arm of her victim, 'you really thought you had me there, didn't you?'
She placed the headset on her victim.
Again Zooble grabbed Abigail by the wrist. Again they threw her to the floor. Again they lifted off the headset.
'Do it!'
As soon as Abigail got up, the headset was placed on her head.
Zooble held Abigail by the shoulders, clutching her like she was a stress ball, until her body went limb and the circus received a new performer.
Next to the spring, there appeared what looked slightly like me, only with a lightbulb instead of eyes and teeth. 'What...where...'
'Sis!' I cried, giving her a hug, 'I've been waiting for you to join us! But you have been very naughty!'
She vanished.
'Now you go and think about what you've done while I help out my new friends!'
I take another look at the screen to see Zooble in their unfamiliar body looking at their hands and breathing heavily. The man who brought them here, the man who they now recognised as Jax, entered.
'Ah!' I cried, 'My sister must have called him in to assist her when she was fighting with you. She can call people whose personalities she's replaced with this computer, you know. Put the headset on him!'
They sighed as they did what I requested, knowing that saving Abigail's victims meant saving Jax.
Zooble looked at the screen, seeing Jax’s form turn gauzier, with everyone else rushing to his spot. As soon as he completely vanished, his human body tore off the headset.
'Couldn't wait to be rid of me, eh?' he said with a familiar smirk, 'To tell the truth, if it was me in your shoes, I'd have defeated her much faster!' They shook their fist, only for him to jump towards the door. 'Can't do much without your detachable limbs, eh?'
'Now,' I said, 'you mustn't tell anyone! My sister is still beloved and you've been through enough without people turning against you.'
Perhaps I was too hasty in saying that.
'Of course not. "Oh, I'm sorry if I haven't been me recently, my evil boss replaced my brain with a digital one and trapped me in a circus". Even I don't believe that.' He turned back to his saviour. 'Well, it's been fun!' He opened the door, waving. 'See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!'
Zooble looked again at the hands of someone they didn't want to be.
The next person to enter the office was their old body. Zooble could only grimace when it entered, wearing a jacket and a skirt a colour that stung their eyes even after what they had been through. Not only were they returned to their proper body - flexing their own hands, stroking their own skin and pulling on their arms to make sure they could no longer be easily detached - but the spring became human again as well, probably having the shortest stay out of any of them.
More bodies returned, each with enough time between the other so as not to look suspicious.
Gangle got her body back and walked out the door.
Ragatha got her body back and walked out the door.
Pomni got her body back and stayed with her friend.
All the while, I spoke with Dad about the circus and its future.
'Well, that's everyone. I'm sorry, but I can't do it with the abstracted ones, and Dad's body is in a grave currently.' Dad approached and gave me a quick hug.
'There must be something we can do,' said the former jester, with Zooble placing a hand on their friend's shoulder.
I bowed my head. 'There isn't.'
Pomni turned to the hollow body of Abigail resting on the swivel chair. 'Are we going to leave her like this?' she asked, more out of curiousity than concern.
'Abigail Adams is going to die in a fire caused by a computer of hers overheating, destroyed because its most ambitious program was too ambitious.'
'You...'
'I've talked this over with Dad. We must make sure this program isn't used again for evil.' Even Bubble floated beside me, eyes closed, ready to accept death. 'Dad will find a place better than this. Abby will get what she deserves. And if there's an afterlife for AI, I'll find out about it.
'Thank you for the laughs. It was fun. Now go.'
'But what about the abstracted!’
Despite Pomni’s cries, I began destroying the circus, for now I had complete control over my sister’s computer. I made the walls inflate and throb, along with the rides and toys inside, I made the tower of carousels grow even taller…
I wish it didn’t have to come to this. It probably wouldn’t have if I could still find that angel’s programme again.
But before I die and the circus is destroyed, I created this document. I told the others not to badmouth my sister, but I am going to send this document to them anyway; my sister had their email addresses on this computer. Perhaps one of them will find a way to expose my sister and what she has done without anyone turning against them; I know Abigail will must likely suffer in the afterlife she finds herself in but she should not have the satisfaction of her crimes mostly going unnoticed.
As I write this, Pomni is at the screen, attempting to figure out a way to save everyone, with Zooble attempting to pull them away so they both can escape. I hope they leave before the computer explodes and the fire starts, and if they have and are reading this, thank you. Thank you so much.
The show is over. Tell your friends.
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silver-scripts · 5 months
Text
Lockyle: Only One Bed Preview
When confronted with the ~only two rooms~ debacle at Albury Castle in The Creeping Shadow, I'm sure I'm not the only one who immediately imagined a "only one bed" fic.
It's one of the projects I'm working on for nano and probably won't be edited until December, so here's a sneak peek :)
This isn't edited so sorry about any typos
The group of them stared at the two sets of keys in front of them.
Two.
“Well, personally I’m too tall to fit in a twin bed or on the couch, so I’ll be taking the room with the big bed,” Kipps said. He reached out to snag the key, and Lockwood lunged forwards as well. Evidently their old rivalry still went deep enough that neither of them was willing to concede to the other.
But there were two keys, and they each pulled away with one. The game changed.
Holly eyed George and then Kipps, calculating the odds. “Well I’m not sharing a bed, so I will be taking the cot,” she said quickly, taking a step towards Kipps. She slung her bag over her shoulder and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, smiling tightly. Kipps grabbed his kit bag and the two of them headed upstairs. A moment later, a door closed.
And then there were three.
George, Lockwood, and Lucy stood staring at each other. A breath passed, and George took his glasses off to clean them on the bottom of his shirt. Carefully, he replaced his glasses and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He teetered on his heals as if he was waiting for someone to say something.
“Well,” Lucy started. She wished, suddenly, that she hadn’t bitten her tongue and had asked Holly to split the twin. It would have made the most sense. And yet here she was now, resigned to taking the couch. She could already imagine how much her back was going to hurt in the morning. “I suppose it makes the most sense for me to-”
“I’m more than happy to take the couch,” George said simply. “Personally, I like my personal space. And I can’t imagine either of you would be rather fond of spending the night with me.” He smiled at them delightedly and grabbed his bags, heading off to plop down on the couch by the fire. “Have a good night!”
“Wait,” Lucy called. “You-”
But George had already disappeared, and she was alone with Lockwood.
If he was phased by the idea of having to spend the night with Lucy, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes sparkled the way they always did, and he sent her one of his signature grins. He grabbed both of their kit bags.
“Onwards,” he said, swinging the key merrily around his fingers. He headed for the stairs.
Lucy felt jittery in her skin, but she took a heavy breath and forced herself to follow him. Might as well get this over with.
Upstairs, Lockwood meticulously put the key in the lock. He turned it, and the door popped open with a resounding click. He nudged it open with his foot and dropped their kit bags just inside the door.
“Charming,” he said.
Lucy followed him inside. The room was smaller than she’d imagined — even smaller than her tiny room in the attic. There was just barely enough room to walk around the twin bed, which was fitted with a faded, brown, hand-made quilt. Matching nightstands adorned either side of the bed, and each was outfitted with a reading lamp and small bowls of lavender.
A fireplace stood at the foot of the bed, and its dusty mantle was lined with old, black and white photos of the town. An ancient, tarnished mirror hung above it, and Lucy stared at herself in the reflection.
Lockwood walked to the window and gave a curious peek outside. The night glittered back at him, and his eyes shone as he looked out at the town.
“Well Danny’s right about one thing,” he said simply. “There are quite a few ghosts out tonight. No sign of the so-called ‘Creeping Shadow’ though.”
“That’s not altogether surprising,” Lucy said.
Lockwood shrugged. “Maybe. But you never know. We can do all kinds of research tomorrow — I suspect the townsfolk will have quite a bit to say. In the meantime, we should probably get some sleep.” He stepped back from the window and ruffled through his bag on the floor, withdrawing a toothbrush and a set of pajamas. “Shall we?”
Lucy’s heart fluttered in her chest. “Of course,” she said quickly.
Lockwood stepped past her and into the hall, where he disappeared into the bathroom. She closed the door to their room behind him and locked it, that nervous feeling in her chest growing stronger. She pulled the over-sized t-shirt she always slept in out of her bag, suddenly aware of how ratty it was and how badly it probably needed a wash. Her pajama pants weren’t in much better shape. She changed quickly, feeling overly self-conscious about her choice of sleepwear.
Why should she care, anyways? She never cared when Lockwood saw her in the mornings — hair disheveled, teeth unbrushed, imprints from her pillow still on her cheek as she stumbled into the kitchen for tea and toast. This shouldn’t be any different.
There was a knock at the door, and Lucy opened the door to be greeted, unsurprisingly, by Lockwood. He held his suit folded neatly in his arms and had changed into a pair of neat white pajamas. “Bathroom is free,” he said, heading into the room. “You might want to get in there before George does. Or Kipps, god knows how long his nightly routine probably is. I imagine it takes a good amount of upkeep to prevent him from looking like a ghost himself every day.”
Lucy snorted. She gladly followed his advice and headed to brush her teeth — partially to get away from him, but also because she’d made the mistake of using the bathroom after George once, and it was safe to say it was not a mistake she was ever going to make again. Even the skull had wrinkled his nose at the odor, and he didn’t even have a sense of smell.
Teeth brushed, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and headed back into the bedroom. Lockwood had started a small fire while she was gone, and had turned off the main lights in the room. His reading lamp was on, and he was tucked beneath the bed covers already and had his nose buried in a local newspaper. When he had acquired it, Lucy had no idea.
“Erm,” she started awkwardly. “Would you prefer it if I took the floor?”
Lockwood looked up at her from the newspaper and blinked. “What?”
“Would you prefer it if I took the floor?” she repeated, motioning to it stupidly. “I’m sure I could drag down a pillow and blanket or something.”
“What are you talking about?” Lockwood asked. “Why on earth would you sleep on the floor?”
“Well…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re comfortable, is all.”
“Why should I ever feel uncomfortable in your presence?” Lockwood asked. “Anyways, I hope you don’t mind, but I started a fire. It was feeling a bit brisk in here.” He folded the newspaper over and tossed it onto the nightstand. “No offense to Aldbury Castle, but its news is incredibly dull. They haven’t even reported on any of the hauntings. Their front page news story is about how some farmer’s sheep went missing.” He huffed. “What’s the point of even having a newspaper if you’re not going to talk about anything important?”
Lucy snorted, thankful for his change of topic. “So getting into it isn’t one of your goals, then?”
He grinned. “I never said that.”
Shaking her head, Lucy closed the bedroom door behind her and stiffly slipped into bed. She pulled the covers high up over herself and turned to face away from Lockwood. It was a twin, so there wasn’t exactly much room to spare, but all the same she put as much space between the two of them as possible.
She felt Lockwood move, and a moment later his light switched off. “Good night, Lucy,” he said softly.
“Good night, Lockwood.”
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ariamariastark1 · 1 year
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Parallels and Foils: how Cersei, Lysa and Catelyn are a warning.
It isn’t news that Cersei and Daenerys, Arya and Catelyn and Lysa and Sansa are deeply connected narratively and that you can learn a lot about them through each other. When you look into it, Cat, Cersei and Lysa are more than just parallels and foils, they also are warnings and a preview of what each girl will or was supposed to become! They warn us about the worst possible outcome for the girls and what they must recognise and avoid.
They are in three different parts of the journey through the books:
Arya, I think, has already won her battle against becoming Catelyn and is now fighting other battles; despite her personality, she had a chance of becoming just as sour and prejudiced as Cat in the beginning and even after Ned died, however, Arya’s ability to be friends with everyone from everywhere as well as her empathy to others, even those who hurt people, made it so that any chance of that happening was destroyed. Jon's love and validation also gave Arya a base of support that Catelyn probably didn't have. ---- Arya Stark has avoided her fate and now is moving on to other things.
Daenerys and Cersei are foils of each other, Cersei being essentially what people believe Daenerys is going to become (the show's Ending doesn't help). Many people, both readers and In-Universe characters, believe Daenerys to be a Mad Queen or that will she burn KingsLanding, however, Cersei is the one that will be known as the Mad Queen (she is literally going crazy) and she will burn KingsLanding. And while we can say with certain confidence that Daenerys will never be like Cersei, in the books she still needs to work and prove herself a bit more. ---- Daenerys is still avoiding this ending.
Sansa, unfortunately, we can't say with certainty that she won't be like Lysa Tully. Maybe in the beginning Sansa wasn't going to become like her aunt but as the story progressed and Sansa continued with the same beliefs and with a general lack of character growth, it is becoming harder to see an ending for Sansa that won't make her Lysa 2.0; Unless Sansa either drastically changes her views on every one that isn't her, stops being willfully ignorant, starts taking care of herself and makes allies or has a deeply life-changing journey in the next two books, I don't see how can Sansa avoid becoming a deeply sad, lonely woman (Sansa is isolated from her family) who was essentially tricked and manipulated her whole life (tricked by society into believing that acting certain way would guaranty her a good life/ manipulated by almost everyone) and that is trapped in a deeply unhappy marriage (Lysa married to an older sexist dude/Sansa possibly married to Henry, who has bastards and probably won't stop having affairs). Thankfully there is a chance that a life-changing journey might happen in the next two books since Little Finger might get caught trying to poison SweetRobin and the fact that Sansa is not his bastard daughter but a lady accused of conspiring to assassinate the king. That might force Sansa to live with the Small Folk and finally force Sansa to grow. -------- Sansa is losing
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heretherebedork · 9 months
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Okay, hear me out...
Lomfon is the true representation of the damage that the belief in soulmates do to the people that could love them.
So if a soulmate is destiny and leave no choice in the matter and people actively believe in that, they will reject the people who don't fit their idea and ideal of a person in a way that leaves them with no choice.
Lomfon might have claimed not to believe in soulmates but we know he believed in fate from his keychain and now that he has Tai and Patt's voice in the rain it's confirmation, in a way, that there is something there.
But it does not bring any happiness.
Because Lomfon was clinging to fate while Tien was right in front of him and only after he saw him did he receive the supposed sign that Tai is meant to be his soulmate.
Because a soulmate takes all the choice and chance out of love and leaves you ignoring all the signs that don't fit into your specific view of what soulmates means.
Lomfon is falling apart now because he was so sure about what he believed and what was meant to be and now he's confronted with the reality that Tai has no interest in him and that he's starting to fall in love with Tien and it's all wrong.
(But it's not, it's not wrong, because soulmates are only what you make of them.)
Lomfon is not a nonbeliever, Lomfon is a believer who was in bitter denial because the reality he faced wasn't the one he had hoped for and now that fate has twisted and wrapped him up and pulled him in he's suddenly realizing that what he thought he wanted wasn't what he actually wanted at all.
In the preview he is pleading to know what he thinks, to know who he likes, because he doesn't know.
Because he placed all of his love into the fate of the keychain and now that's all been swept out from under him between the rain connection and his growing feelings for Tien that he doesn't know how to react.
If you decide to set your path on fate and destiny rather than your own choices, you will hurt the people you love because you will not see what you are doing because you do not see any of it as a choice.
Lomfon is going to hurt everyone around him in a desperate bid to figure out what fate and destiny have been trying to tell him because the idea of making a choice is terrifying.
(This also reflects back on Tai and Tien's parents, their divorce and how Tai's father talks about how love is something you have to work for to keep and how the entire show is showing us that love is a choice you make and that fate and destiny cannot take that step for you.)
And so this final act isn't about Lomfon as a second love interest for Tai (he never was). This is about the act of choice and the way that trusting in fate and destiny without making choices hurts the people you love and yourself in the end.
Tien is the one who is going to be the most hurt, the one who is caught between all these people and all their fates and has only himself, only his own life, no voices and no keychains and no notes and nothing but the fleeting calm that Lomfon's touch leaves and the love he's just starting to discover.
Love is a choice. But that also means you have to make a choice.
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year
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Just Some Thoughts on Buddy Daddies’ Story Structure
After seeing the preview for Episode 8 and looking through PV 2 and PV 3, I’m fairly certain that Episode 9 will be the Sports Day focused episode. Since those are the only scenes that we haven’t encountered yet, and it seems that the PVs are focused on the different acts of the story. I bet the interview that we get for Episode 9 will be with Miss Anna’s VA too.
This makes sense. So far Buddy Daddies seems to be structured like this:
Episodes 1 - 5: Setup and Establishment
Ep. 1 - Intro to Rei, Kazuki, and Miri. Kazuki takes Miri home with them.
Ep. 2 - Figuring out how to handle and deal with Miri while they search for her mother.
Ep. 3 - Establishing Misaki. Rei and Kazuki make the individual decisions to be Miri’s Papa and keep her, rather than send her back to Misaki.
Ep. 4 - Introduce Miss Anna and establish Miri going to daycare.
Ep. 5 - Miri encounters Ryo Ogino. Kyutaro gets a proper introduction and he is 100% in the know about Miri now. The potential dangers of them taking in Miri are directly laid out to them.
Episode 6 - 9: Fleshing Out Characters and Backstories
Ep. 6 - Fleshed out Miri’s character more, showed Kazuki and Rei deepening their bond with Miri (though, there have also been small moments like that here and there in Episodes 2 - 5). More insight into Miri’s life at daycare.
Ep. 7 - Fleshed out Kazuki’s backstory and his own personal struggles both with his past memories and with his present issues. Showing more interconnectedness with the characters and bonding between Rei and Miri. We also see Carol and Dorothy again, with both of them getting a bit more characterization to work with than we had before.
The rest of this post is speculative.
Ep. 8 - We are going to get Rei’s backstory fleshed out and him struggling with personal issues and decisions that will tie back to his family, Kazuki and Miri. We see the inclusion of Ryo Ogino, who has been introduced before, so he is likely going to get fleshed out more, and Kazuki and Miri are going to have some bonding time. Possibly giving us some more insight into Kyutaro as well. 
Ep. 9 - My speculation is that it will be a daycare and Sports Day focused episode that will flesh out Miss Anna more. Also provide more of a look at Miri’s daycare life, her friends there, and probably work as a breather episode before the final part of the series. Maybe we will see the return of Miri’s mother here or something that will possibly flesh her out more as well, like we saw happen with Yuzuko and what we will be seeing in Ep. 8 with Rei’s father.
Episodes 10 - 13: Climax and Resolution
MAL lists Buddy Daddies as having 13 episodes, so that is what I am going with here as well. I expect that after either Episode 9 or Episode 10 airs, we will get another PV that will give us some insight into the third and final section of the series. We know from an interview with Rei’s VA that Miri’s mother will be an important character, so I expect she might be a heavy focus in this section. 
We’ll likely see their status as a family being as a whole being challenged in this section, since the middle act works on challenging the characters individually (Miri on a field trip her papas aren’t supposed to go to, Kazuki taking off, Rei going to visit his father alone, etc.). Along with that, I won’t be surprised if we will see Miri being placed in actual harms way due to their job. Since those seem to be the climatic aspects to the two sides of the series: the childcaring aspect and the action/hitman aspect.
Hopefully they will pull through. I’m excited to see what we might get in this section and what themes and concepts they may confront here, but also nervous at the thought too. Since I expect some angst and intensity here as well.
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