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nightingaelic · 3 years

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Fallout New Vegas companions react to taking the Courier's place in Dead Money.

Arcade Gannon: Following the obligatory panic attack and subsequent state of dejection, Arcade would suck it up and start trying to get the heist done with as quickly as possible. He’d roll his eyes at Dean Domino, set aside Dog and God’s identity crisis for later and check Christine over for basic first aid purposes before trudging along toward the various goals set by Elijah. I think he’d opt for stealth over combat when encountering the ghost people out of a sense of self-preservation, but he would probably pocket some clothing and blood samples from any that Dog took down along the way to the casino. The story of the Sierra Madre would fascinate him, particularly the bits and pieces left behind by jaded treasure hunters and Elijah’s previous teams of victims. Arcade would see it as a microcosm of what’s happening in the wider world, a stellar example of partners turning on each other in pursuit of some perceived bright future attached to the hidden treasures of the old world. Vera’s desperate graffiti in her hotel room would speak to him most powerfully: LET GO. He would probably try to argue with Elijah about the viability of the former Brotherhood Elder’s plans, throwing some Latin phrasing in for good measure. No matter his level of success in this, Arcade would stow away as many gold bars as he could to lug home and use to sparingly and anonymously fund the efforts of the Followers of the Apocalypse.

Craig Boone: During his first encounter with one of the ghost people popping up again after being downed by his sniper rifle, Boone would grunt in annoyance, swap his ammo for hollow points and switch from aiming at chests to aiming at heads. Ghost people bob and weave admirably, but Boone has a gift, and up until he actually got inside the casino, his main obstacle would be avoiding the noxious cloud. The holograms, on the other hand, would probably strike some fear into his heart. After all, how do you destroy something that bullets can’t touch? I don’t think he would put two and two together about the emitters until Christine or Dean pointed them out: From there, it just becomes a scavenger hunt to find the next piece of wall-mounted tech to shoot. Dean, Dog and God would annoy him, but he’d find a kindred spirit in Christine, and would appreciate her ability to convey meaning without words. Hell, he’s pretty good at that himself. Upon finding Elijah, Boone would immediately put a bullet in his head, look at the pile of gold for a few seconds, then walk away and out of the Sierra Madre without looking back. He’d never breathe a word of the place to anyone, but he’d track down all of the Sierra Madre broadcast systems one by one and destroy them, letting the desert swallow the place and its dangers for good.

Lily Bowen: Grandma Lily wouldn’t understand why the angry man was so desperate to get inside the casino, but she’s more than familiar with being a forced follower of doomed causes. As such, she would be kind to her fellow captives, assuring Christine that she would be able to talk “when she’s ready,” admonishing Dean for his rude behavior and telling Elijah that he would catch more cazadores with honey mesquite than with vinegar. A trail of wrecked ghost people would follow her to the casino itself, but dealing with the holograms would be beyond her expertise: That part would have to be left to Christine or Dean. Elijah would receive a lecture once she made it into the vault, but she would probably let him live unless he attacked first. Dog and God, however, would earn the most care and compassion and even cause some introspection. Ultimately, I think she would help the two become one through intense conversation and shared understanding about what it means to be nightkin with no master, and once freed, she would take him to find a home in Jacobstown.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Upon waking up from being kidnapped by Dog on Elijah's behalf, Raul's immediate reaction would be something like "Again?" followed by "Carajo." Elijah’s insistence on pulling off the heist would annoy him, but Raul is constantly looking for something to occupy his unnaturally-long time on earth, and what is the Sierra Madre if not the Mojave’s most deadly time-waster? He would be sarcastic and exasperated for his entire time wearing the bomb collar, but would find ways to be tender and understanding with Christine, and patient and supportive with Dog and God - after all, he knows what it’s like to struggle with two sides of yourself. Dean, on the other hand, would vex him. Here’s another pre-war ghoul hung up on the promises and mistakes of the past, driven to the point of obsession where he can’t break himself out of the cycle. He can’t let go, and I think that doomed state of being would speak to Raul personally. I don’t think he and Dean would get along, but I don’t think they would have a final showdown in the Tampico either. Instead, I think Dean would watch Raul exit the vault’s elevator, flip one souvenir gold bar in his hand with a wry smile, then pocket it before walking out into the wastes, and the pre-war lounge singer would feel a twinge of kindred sadness before going back to rummaging through the casino’s secrets.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Following a tense standoff with Elijah while refusing to do as he says, Cass would eventually relent and start dragging her feet around the villa to assemble the ragtag heist crew. She’d hold each of them at a distance, intent on getting herself out alive and refusing to be responsible for anyone else. Nods of sympathy for Christine, dry comebacks for Dean and a quizzical comment or two for Dog and God would be her limit, at least until they all encountered their turning points inside the casino. Each of them would grow her disdain for Elijah and his methods, but, like Raul, I think she would be most personally affected by Dean’s story. She might find herself arguing with him like the courier did with her, about moving on from failed pasts and striking out into something new. I don’t think she’d take the time to argue with Elijah, though, and would take the first chance she got to lock him in the vault forever. She’d make off with as much gold as she could, of course.

Veronica Santangelo: The Sierra Madre would make Veronica's head explode, though whether or not Elijah could stand her mouth going a million miles a minute once she wakes up would determine whether that would happen literally or figuratively. Tons and tons of pre-war tech lying around! But it's all under a haze of collapsed support beams, toxic gas and ghost people that can jump around like grasshoppers. Father Elijah is alive! But he's trying to break into a casino to build an army of holograms, and he imprisoned Christine. Christine is here! But she's been maimed and abused horribly, and is trying to kill Elijah. I think Elijah would try reasoning with Veronica before threatening her into obeying him - though she would probably figure out how to get the collar off or render it useless within the first 24 hours in the Sierra Madre - but I don’t think he would be able to convince her that his plan to get inside the casino’s vault would benefit the Brotherhood of Steel. The revelations that Christine would bring - the Circle of Steel’s orders, Elijah’s crimes against travelers and treasure hunters, his orchestration of their breakup in order to bring Veronica to the Mojave with him - would probably leave her feeling confused and empty about the man she considers a grandfather figure. She would probably do her best to free Elijah from the casino, but would offer him a choice if she succeeded: Leave the treasures of the Sierra Madre behind and walk away from his accursed quest for power, or remain trapped with what he’d sought. Whatever path he’d choose, Veronica would part ways with him once the vault’s elevator ascended. She’d bundle up Vera’s dress, sigh heavily, then take Christine’s hand and walk away from the Sierra Madre forever.

ED-E: Ironically, I think ED-E would be a good pick for Elijah to use as a pawn in his heist game, though it would be kind of hard for Dog to hook a collar onto the little robot. If Ulysses can speak to the courier through an eyebot’s speakers, then Elijah can probably do the same to his already-assembled team. ED-E doesn’t have a whole lot of personal motivation, so I think the bot would just beep and go along with whatever it was ordered to do. Christine or Dean would probably take the lead, and ED-E would zoom around the villa, dodging throwing knife spears and trumpeting his location without a care. Once inside the casino, ED-E would again defer to his leader’s orders, with the added benefit of being a robot keeping him from the holograms’ notice. If allowed into the vault, ED-E would diligently pick up exactly six of the gold bars and carry them home to the Mojave, where he would deposit them at the bewildered courier’s feet with a triumphant beep.

Rex: While much easier to slap a collar on than ED-E, I don't think Rex would fare better than the little robot in terms of leadership abilities. As an ally to whoever gets put in charge, though, he would also be invaluable at sneaking around the Sierra Madre’s various threats, particularly the ghost people. He would take a special shine to Christine and God, who would recognize the canine as a fellow being exploited by powers out of his control. Rex would absolutely hate the holograms, who smell of nothing, and Elijah, who smells of desperation and indifference. He would completely ignore the gold bars. Once freed, he would whine and beg and nudge Christine until she relented and left the city of the dead, leading her home to the New Vegas strip and another woman whose scent told him of metal bunkers and longing.

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impalas-r-important · 3 years

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Love of my Life - (1) All's fair in love and snowball fights.

Pairing: Dean x reader(ish)

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You and Dean were inseparable from the moment you met; a true match made in heaven. You were killed in the big showdown with Lucifer and Michael (S5), but were brought back to life along side Sam. Heartbreak quickly took over your life after finding out that Dean had already moved on with Lisa so soon after your death.

Series Masterlist

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You sighed as you looked over at Sam and Dean. You and Sam had been doing research for 5 straight days trying to help Bobby out with a case. Dean would come over and help when he could. Sam was in the living room, his nose buried in a book and Dean was sitting with his feet up on the kitchen table, pretending to look studious as he fought off his heavy eye lids. You stood up to stretch your legs and wandered over to the window. It had snowed all night and all morning, leaving the outside world blanketed with pillowy, inviting flakes. The corners of your mouth crept up in a slight smile as an idea came to your mind. You quickly grabbed your jacket that had been slung across the back of your chair which startled Dean enough to wake him up. He sloppily wiped a bit of drool from his mouth and looked over to find an irritated Sam glaring at him. You jogged a few steps to the back door and pulled your boots on.

“Where are you going?” You could hear Sam ask from the other room.

“I’ll be right back!”

You stepped outside and the chilly wind instantly burned the back of your throat, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to not be looking at the worn pages of another lore book. You bent down and scooped the snow together in your hands creating 2 perfect snowballs. A mischievous grin spread on your face as you stomped back into the living room of Bobby’s house. Sam was your first target; he was so unaware of what was about to hit him. Literally. You pulled back your arm, took your aim, and launched the snowball, nailing him square in the face. The shocked look on his face was priceless.

“Hah!” Dean looked up and tauntingly laughed from the table on the other side of the room. His laugh quickly turned into a frown as you threw the second snowball at him. He paused and blinked a few times before wiping the snow from his face. He turned to look at you, and you couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. The three of you exchanged glances, a few seconds of silence passing while you all gauged the situation before Dean stood up giving you a perfect, playful smile.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know what you just started.” He ran at you and you turned to run away, giving a squeal as you did. You were fast, but Dean was faster. You had a few good steps on him, but as you reached the staircase, he grabbed you by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder and marching out the door with you.

“Let me go!” You laughed as he tickled your sides.

“If you say so.” He ran across the yard and gently tossed you into a big snowbank, giving your system a shock. You shot up and tried to shake the snow out from your clothes.

“This means war, Winchester!” You shouted as you ran full speed at Dean, rugby tackling him into the few feet of snow piled up behind him.

Sam popped out from behind an icy car with an armful of huge snowballs. “Gotcha both!” He exclaimed as he pelted the two of you. Dean pulled you underneath him and turned his back to Sam, protecting you. You got lost in his green eyes for a moment as he pulled his face close to yours. “One, two, three!” Dean counted down and you knew exactly what his plan was, without needing to discuss it. The two of you had always been on the same wavelength, making you the perfect hunting (and snowball fight) partners. You both turned and ran at Sam, Dean grabbed your hand tight and extended his arm as the two of you clotheslined the taller brother, knocking him backwards. You stole the few snowballs Sam had dropped and threw them at the two boys.

“I thought we were on a team now?!” Dean grinned at you as he crouched down and began to form the snow in his hands. He cocked his arm back and launched it at you as you ducked behind a car. It just missed you. You sat with your back to the car door, catching your breath and looking on either side of you, waiting for one of the boys to jump out at you.

Dean had climbed on top of the car and jumped down in front of you. “Ha ha! I’ve got you right where I want you!” You laughed and slipped as you tried to get up, causing you to laugh even harder. Dean pulled you backwards by your feet. Kneeling on either side of you, he pinned you down with a snowball in hand. “Do you surrender?!” He demanded.

“Yes, yes fine!” Your stomach hurt from all the laughing. Dean dropped the snowball and huffed. He flopped down in the snow next to you, catching his breath and letting out a little laugh.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I mean, the look on Sam’s face when you threw that first snowball at him. Priceless!” He turned to look at you, pulling you close to him. “Thanks, Y/N/N.” It had been so long since you had seen Dean smile a genuine smile like the one he was giving to you now. Your heart fluttered and memories of your relationship came flooding back the minute you looked into his eyes. He looked back at you and for a moment, nothing and no one else existed. This felt so right and so natural, like it had always felt with him when you were together. This was a joy that you rarely felt anymore, and you knew that the only thing bringing it to you was Dean. He brushed a stray hair behind your ear as his eyes wandered down to your lips.

“Dean?” A distant voice called. It was Lisa. You both sat up quickly. Overwhelming happiness quickly turned to heart break.

“Crap!” Dean said under his breath as he checked his watch. “We’re supposed to go to a neighbor’s house for dinner tonight. I should have been home 40 minutes ago. I just lost track of time.” He stood up and brushed the snow from his clothes.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have started that stupid snowball fight.” You apologized.

“No, no I haven’t laughed like that in…” Dean paused, “hell, I don’t know how long. Don’t you dare apologize for that.” He reached out a hand to help you up, but you waved him off.

“I’m okay, you go. It’s probably better if Lisa doesn’t see me. I’ll stay hidden behind this old hunk a’ junk until you guys leave.” You patted the car behind you and tried to muster up a fake smile. Dean didn’t buy it. Lisa hated when your relationship with Dean was brought up, and she equally disliked you being around him.

“Listen, Y/N/N, I- “

“Dean?!” Lisa’s voice interrupted him. She was clearly getting angrier and closer.

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something to you, but instead just exhaled and looked at you with longing eyes. You broke the eye contact after a few seconds and moved your gaze to the ground.

“Bye, Y/N.” Dean muttered. You could hear his footsteps crunch in the snow as he walked away.

“Where the hell were you?!” You could hear Lisa demand in the background.

“Sam and I were just having a snowball fight.” Dean tried to explain himself. You noticed he had left your name out on purpose.

“I swear you two are children when you are around each other.”

You hated the way she talked down to him. Like he was some disobedient puppy on a leash. You heard another set of crunching footsteps approach you. Sam walked around the car and sat down next to you; you leaned your head on his shoulder. Your heavy heart had returned, and you felt empty again.

A few moments passed as you both waited to make sure Dean and Lisa had left. Sam broke the silence once he heard the back door close. “You know, you can talk to me, right Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sammy, thank you.” You looked up and gave him a halfhearted smile.

“No, not like this beat around the bush kind of talking. Like, really telling me how you feel. About Dean, about Lisa, about life. Anything and everything. You can trust me to keep your secrets. I feel like you and I are in the same boat right now. Neither of us expected to die, never mind come back, and it’s hard to see how life, Dean especially, changed while we were gone. I can tell this is all weighing on you. You’re not the same as you used to be.” He arched his neck to look down at you as much as he could. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like Lisa. Not at all. I don’t get what Dean sees in her. She has changed him into someone that I barely recognize, and I know you see it too.” Sam let out a small sigh of relief. “Man, I’ve been wanting to get that off my chest for a while.” His demeanor became more serious. “You know, I thought you and Dean would be together forever.”

His words helped you a little. “I thought we would be too. I guess I was just making our relationship out to be more than it really was.” You shrugged.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“I hadn’t even been dead for that long and he had already moved in with another woman. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and if the situations were reversed, then I would rather live the rest of my life alone than be with someone else if I lost Dean.”

“I don’t have an explanation for that, but I do know that you weren’t making it out to be more than it was. Dean was head over heels in love with you. I knew it from, literally, the moment we met you. And honestly, I think he still is. He just does a good job of hiding it.”

“Everyday hurts, Sam. Every time I have to see him with her.” You whispered. “Lately I’ve been asking myself why I’m still here. I mean, Dean asked us to stick around here and make a home base, but I don’t know if I can do that anymore.”

“You’re thinking about leaving?” He frowned.

“Yeah, maybe... I don’t know.” You traced circles in the snow beneath you. “What good am I doing here? Why do I keep putting myself through this pain? If I left, I could try and move on with my life.”

Sam nodded and waited a few moments before saying, “Well, I can’t stop you from leaving, or tell you how to live your life, but I’m going to miss you like hell if you do go. You’re literally my sister. But I understand where you’re coming from. I miss being out on the road and just living case to case. Domestic life isn’t for me, not right now anyway. But I could never leave Dean here by himself, so I’ll figure out a hybrid of the two.”

You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to break down in tears. Sam could tell. “Let’s get back inside and change. It’s been a nice to take a break from research. We’ll go grab some hot chocolate and dinner before we dive back into the books. Deal?”

You smiled and nodded at him. Sam helped you up and put his arm around you as you walked back inside. “Sorry I hit you in the face with a snowball… multiple times.” You joked and elbowed his side a little.

“Oh, I’ll get you back for that at some point, don’t you worry. It was just good to see a glimpse of the old you again.” Sam smiled and held the door open for you. It felt good to vent to Sam, and it felt even better knowing that he was on the same page as you about Lisa. You didn’t want to hate her; you weren’t that kind of a person. But you just couldn’t help it.

Chapter 2

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #spn

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thezodiaczone · 4 years

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Leo Compatibility

LEO + ARIES (MARCH 21 - APRIL 19) ♥♥♥♥ Aries and Leo are Fire signs who love drama, passion and extreme adventure. You're a flashy, outspoken duo that plays by your own bold agenda. Restless souls, you need lots of physical and intellectual stimulation—politics, inspiring conversations, startup businesses—you'll juggle them all, making it look so easy. Of course, your emotional meltdowns require a team of therapists and devoted friends to fix, and you should keep those folks on speed dial. Adrenaline is your favorite drug; no surprise Aries Jennifer Garner and Leo Ben Affleck fell in love while co-starring in the action flick Daredevil. Like this Hollywood pair, who refuses to walk the red carpet together on principle, you respect each other's autonomy. Fire signs are by nature independent. You both need to make your own mark on the world, and you don't like anyone stealing your shine. In fact, trouble starts when one of you eclipses the other's big moment or makes the other look foolish in public. Rule number one: don't compete. With your rash tempers, it won't end well. Instead, be each other's biggest fans and champions. As the relationship progresses, put more effort into dressing up, especially if you become parents. Because you're so comfortable together, you could end up bumming around in burp cloths and track suits, dulling the sexy edge that attracted you in the first place.

LEO + TAURUS (APRIL 20 - MAY 20) This dynamic coupling is as stable as a batch of homemade explosives. Yet, you can't resist mixing those chemicals just to see what happens. The sexual pyrotechnics alone are certainly tempting. You're both proud, fierce and egotistical—two incurable hotheads—and you're attracted to each other's showy flair. When it's good, it's damn good: you get all the affection, doting and hero-worship you crave. You love to glam up like rock star royalty and paint the town together, drawing attention wherever you go. In fact, your shared vanity may keep you together past the relationship's prime. Sex is animalistic and hands-on (keep ointment at the ready for bites and scratches), and best enjoyed in the monogrammed sheets of the finest hotels. With your combined charisma and willpower, you could overthrow a midsized government, or form your own totalitarian regime. Bad days are brutal, though. The Lion assumes he's in charge of everything, but nobody bosses the Bull around. You both dig in your heels and go for the kill. Drama, shouting, and ego showdowns are your favorite weapons of mass destruction, and woe betide the day you turn those on each other. You're both capable of enacting a scene that brings down the house. Security!

LEO + GEMINI (MAY 21 - JUNE 20) ♥♥♥♥ You make great friends, since you both love to gab about everything from the Times to the tabloids, Ferragamo to flea markets. Conversations are fever-pitched and fascinating; you're both well-versed culture hounds. Romantically, the temperature may be tepid, though. Leo is a Fire sign ruled by the blazing Sun—the regal Lion wants to be consumed by passion, heat, devotion, attention. Gemini is an Air sign driven by speedy, information-gathering Mercury. Listening to The Leo Monologues, which span from political diatribes to emotional melodramas, is sheer torture. When Gemini dares to interrupt the King or Queen, suggesting that s/he actually GET TO THE POINT, hell breaks loose. Leo must learn to take Gemini's tough love and unvarnished feedback in stride, not as an ego assault. Unconventional Gem should assent to traditional romantic gestures: red roses, the Tiffany bauble du jour. Learn to adapt. Gemini rules the hands, and will need to put them on affection-hungry Leo more often, since the Lion is greatly reassured by touch. And yes, as an Air sign, Gemini will need to blow a little smoke you-know-where; Leo can be a nightmare without regular doses of praise. Gush and flatter—it won't be the first insincere thing to pass through Gemini's lips. Leo should keep a battery of patient friends on speed dial. Gemini may have multiple personalities, but as a romantic partner, s/he can't be your de facto shrink, psychic hotline, career coach, parent and social director. Spread the demands around.

LEO + CANCER (JUNE 21 - JULY 22) Can you say drama? Between Cancer's moods and Leo's ego, you're a camera crew away from being a reality show—the kind that makes you want to change the channel, only you can't leave the crash scene. Harsh but true. Your signs are both needy and bossy, but in different ways. Cancer is insecure and possessive, and this sign's sensitive Water element can quench Fire-sign Leo's excitement. Leo rules the zodiac's fifth house of drama, and suffers from a terminal case of what relationship expert Alison Armstrong calls "center of the universe disease." Cancer is ruled by the fluctuating moon, Leo by the sun. You literally can be as different as night and day. However, your knee-jerk reactions and hair trigger tempers cause the same amount of destruction. So what works about this match? It's packed with passion and romance, something you both adore. Cancer and Leo are heart-driven signs, and emotional highs are your breath of life. For all the crashes, meltdowns and train wrecks this causes, you remain fiercely, enigmatically loyal. Self-awareness is crucial to this relationship's survival. You both need to take responsibility for the drama you're capable of stirring up. In the best cases, you'll meet after you've learned to temper your emotions, or even better, logged a few dedicated years of therapy.

LEO + LEO (JULY 23 - AUGUST 22) Welcome to the jungle. Two hungry Lions can consume each other with passion, or destroy each other with pride. The relationship begins as a gushing praisefest, and you quickly form a mutual admiration society. Sensing a kindred spirit, your receptors start whirring and purring. You'll spend hours in fiery dialogue about everything under the sun, pouring on the flattery. Lust spawns as the conversation reaches a fever pitch, and soon your hearts eclipse all common sense. Remember "Bennifer"—the Leo-Leo coupling of Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck that spawned the celebrity name-combining trend? Or the Oval Office cigar-caper-that-wasn't-really-sex between Leos Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky? 'Nuff said. Leos love to spoil and indulge your mate—but watch out, or you could create a monster. On the savannah, the lioness is the hunter; the male prowls the territory and sleeps up to 20 hours a day. Leo men can quickly become lazy and indulgent, while Leo women toil tirelessly on their omni-empires (think: Madonna, Martha Stewart). In rare cases, you can become a gruff, curmudgeonly couple—like two disenchanted cats who hiss and scratch, but stay together for nine lives anyway.

LEO + VIRGO (AUGUST 23 - SEPTEMBER 22) You're playing with fire here—literally. Passionate Leo is a Fire sign ruled by the Sun, and his solar power can light up a universe. Virgo is a practical, skeptical Earth sign who can throw dirt on Leo's flames before they have a chance to combust into a world-changing wildfire. It's a shame how quiet and subdued the awesome Lion becomes around Virgo. The problem? Leo is addicted to praise, and needs constant encouragement from his mate. Virgo is the zodiac's perfectionist; his critical nature can cause Leo to shrink-wrap himself into diminutive proportions. Think of Leos Madonna and Jennifer Lopez, and their marriages to Virgos Guy Ritchie and Marc Anthony. Yes, they had children with these men, which is important to the family-oriented Lion. However, both megastars toned down their flashy, go-getter images to play wifey. This dynamic must be avoided at all costs. Virgo's earthy nature should be no more than terra firma beneath the Lion's feet. In turn, Leo must shore up confidence, rather than take flaw-finding Virgo's feedback to heart. While Virgo is the helper sign, a codependent vibe can quickly form if he tries to manage Leo's demanding, dramatic life. Your signs are completely different; what's good for the goose is dead-wrong for the gander. Live and let live.

LEO + LIBRA (SEPTEMBER 23 - OCTOBER 22) ♥♥♥♥ You're a pretty pair, attracted to the other's good looks and charm. The courtship phase has all your favorite trimmings: massive bouquets delivered to your office, iPod mixes of your favorite angsty love songs, sonnets inspired by your affection. Leo and Libra are two of the zodiac's most romantic signs, and you love everything to be pleasant and harmonious on the surface. The challenge comes when it's time to get real. Rather than show your unpleasant humanity, you coat issues in saccharine, avoiding touchy topics to keep the happy vibes flowing. However, the artificial sweetness soon leaves a bitter aftertaste, especially for Leo. The Lion is a Fire sign, with a much more passionate disposition than cooler Air-sign Libra. Leo is pushy, Libra procrastinates, and you can get caught in a dance of anger as a result. When truly upset, the Lion roars. Libra can bellow right back, but he's more likely to withhold attention, the thing that Leo most craves. Leo's demands for affection, praise and validation can drain Libra after a while. Dramatic highs and lows tip Libra's scales off balance, inciting a passive-aggressive backlash. It starts with locked doors and escalates into Internet porn or even affairs if Leo doesn't get the hint. You may be better off as friends if you can't get beyond this impasse.

LEO + SCORPIO (OCTOBER 23 - NOVEMBER 21) This combustible combination drips with power plays, a white-hot dynamic you find infuriating and sexy in equal measure. In many ways, you're complete opposites. Secretive Scorpio is a private soul who rules the night. Leo is an exhibitionist ruled by the sun, and his piercing rays expose Scorpio's hidden shadows. Scorpio hates to feel this vulnerable—especially in public—yet, behind closed doors it can be thrilling. You're both passionate and imaginative in bed, with very little you won't try. As business partners and collaborators, you can make a dream team, too. You're both super intense, outdoing most people with your drive and focus. Leo plays the glamorous showstopper, and Scorpio acts as producer behind the scenes. (It worked for Leo Jennifer Lopez and Scorpio Diddy, who collaborated on her breakout album.) At least you don't compete for the spotlight, which can be a saving grace. But you'll struggle for the upper hand, since Scorpio likes to be in control and Leo is the bossy ruler of the jungle. Flirtatious, charismatic Leo can also spark Scorpio's jealous streak. Remember: darkness absorbs light. Leo must be careful not to get swept into Scorpio's powerful undertow and vengeful obsessions.

LEO + SAGITTARIUS (NOVEMBER 22 - DECEMBER 21) ♥♥♥♥ This is a lively match of two compatible Fire signs, filled with fun and adventure. As lifelong learners, you both juggle many projects and interests, often running on fumes. While neither of you is around to keep the home fires burning, conversation and creativity are far more important to you than starched linens and home-cooked meals. You'd rather enjoy takeout from your favorite ethnic restaurant when the fridge gets empty, or sleep under the stars when you run out of clean sheets. Living on the edge is fun, as long as you don't fall off the cliff, especially with finances. During stressful times, you can exhaust each other, as you both can be emotionally demanding and dramatic. Leo needs more personal attention and praise than Sagittarius, but the truthful Archer doesn't give false compliments. He should learn to sing Leo's praises, if only to prevent time-consuming emotional meltdowns. Consider the benefits: a little acknowledgment keeps Leo purring for days, and gives Sagittarius uninterrupted time to read, start businesses, edit his documentary film. When life gets routine, mix it up with a spur-of-the-moment road trip, a long hike or a night at a decadent boutique hotel.

LEO + CAPRICORN (DECEMBER 22 - JANUARY 19) You're insatiably attracted, but you often end up hurting each other through a series of misunderstandings and ego battles. Leo is ruled by the confident Sun, Capricorn by self-doubting Saturn. That's just the start of your differences. Leo is a starry-eyed Fire sign who believes that anything can be achieved by sheer willpower and the refusal to take "no" for an answer. Capricorn is a traditional Earth sign, equally ambitious, but rarely willing to color outside the lines. He approaches life like a steady Mountain Goat, taking tentative steps toward his ten-year goals. Your different pacing could drive you both mad. Although loyal Capricorn is usually the stalwart partner in relationships, Leo is far more devoted in this match. Lusty Capricorn is mostly interested in sex. While you'll have plenty of hot romps, Leo can mistake Capricorn's physical attraction for love. Oops! The Lion must perform due diligence, and assume nothing. Unlike Leo, Capricorn's love is hard-won, not something he hands out like candy to Trick-or-Treaters. Then, there's the cheerleading that grates on the Goat. Leo urges Cap to believe in himself, which the Goat laughs off as fluff ripped straight from a cheesy self-help tome. Yet, lo!—Leo follows Covey's seven steps and becomes a highly successful person. Instead of congratulating Leo, war is declared: Capricorn scoffs at Leo's dreams, and Leo sets out to prove Capricorn wrong ("I'll show you!"). Before long, you stay together just to spite each other. What's the point?

LEO + AQUARIUS (JANUARY 20 - FEBRUARY 18) These opposite signs can be volatile match. Leo is the sign of the self, a born star and showstopper who commands attention wherever he goes. Aquarius rules the zodiac's eleventh house of groups and society—he's both the class president and its rabble-rousing radical. You're competitive spotlight-grabbers who can fight dirty, especially as you jostle to outdo each other. Case in point: Leo Whitney Houston and Aquarius Bobby Brown. Their destructive, drug-addled marriage brought Whitney's singing career to its knees. Yet, Leo is a hopeless romantic filled with haughty pride, standing loyally by a mate, fiddling while Rome burns. You both spark each other's jealousy, Leo by flirting with everyone in sight, Aquarius by treating his bazillion friends as though they're on equal par with Leo (they are). Leo is needy, demanding constant attention, but cool-headed Aquarius feels smothered by too much affection and togetherness. Aquarius will listen patiently to Leo's dramas, but only to a point. Leo must keep a stable of supportive friends on hand, and not turn the relationship into an exhausting soap opera script. Aquarius will need to show a little more emotion (besides anger) and tenderness, stepping aside to allow Leo's star to shine.

LEO + PISCES (FEBRUARY 19 - MARCH 20) Your signs are very different, but you can eventually gel into a lasting relationship. Pisces is a flowy, sensitive Water sign who needs a decisive mate. Confident Leo, a Fire sign, is a natural leader, eager to rule the relationship. Because Pisces takes longer to articulate his needs, Leo could mistakenly assume he's got the upper hand, and that Pisces is content to follow. Not so fast. In your own ways, you both wear your hearts on your sleeve, but you need to tune into each other's sensitive spots. You're incredibly romantic, and the tender passion between you is great in the beginning. However, you may hit a dry spell when it's time to get truly intimate. Secretive Pisces feels so vulnerable when his soul is exposed, and may lash out at Leo in an unconscious reaction to the Lion's strength—for example, criticizing Leo's appearance, weight or intelligence. These cruel barbs are actually just a projection of Pisces' own self-doubt, but they plunge a thorn in the Lion's paw no less. Pisces must work through the tedious knots of his insecurities, which lay deep in his psyche. Leo is a powerhouse who can run the show with his eyes closed, but he'll do best to step aside and give the Fish his chance to shine. Shy Pisces is a true creative force, but his brilliant imagination and keen intuition can be eclipsed by showy Leo. Work through this. Luxury is a weakness for your signs, and you love to indulge. You may need to take courses on money management together, or team up to make a fortune so you never have to worry about it.

#leo #compatibility #astrology #zodiac #love #relationships #Leo compatibility

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silwenworld · 4 years

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UNTIL THE LAST PETAL FALLS (Part 2 in the War Roses series) Summary: He could see the flowers floating before his eyes. A Bouquet. A single flower. Every time in different configuration but one thing was constant - the petals were falling away. Each time there were fewer and fewer petals attached to the stalk. And each time that happened, he could feel himself slipping further and further away.

Or: Captain Gold has a son to find and woman to come back to, and nothing short of dying will keep him from doing just that.

A continuation of the Rumbelle Showdown 2020 fic "The Dried Rose" Category: M

CHAPTER 6 [Ao3] [First Chapter]

There was something soothing in the sewing process - watching as the needle went up and down, puncturing the material time and time again.

Down.

It weaved the black thread, bringing two parts closer together up to the moment when they finally become one.

Up.

It slipped through a small loop forming a knot so the stitch wouldn't break.

All done.

Belle pulled hard, then bent down to bit on the thread, snapping it close to the knot, then admired her handiwork. At first glance, it was almost impossible to notice the changes, and she nodded to herself, proud.

Silently she stood up and approached the closet, making sure not to step on any of the loose boards. It was easy even in the low light - she had their place memorised long time ago. The floor hadn't squeaked, but the closet door did precisely that when she tried to open them.

Jumping slightly, she turned her head to the left, freezing in her movements, watching closely. Roy stirred on the bed but didn't wake up, and she let a breath that she didn't realise she was holding.

Cautiously, she put the jacket back on its hanger - the one closer to the wall - arranging it just as it had been before. It would not do if Roy caught her small scheme after all the trouble she had went with checking which of his garments he had tempered with and which he hadn't.

With a small smile, she carefully closed the door and on her tiptoes returned to bed, curling beside Roy.

It was long after the sunrise, but Gold still didn't know what to think. Waking up next to Belle in bed had been both bizarre and wonderful, but on top of it confusing.

When he had finally opened his eyes - an achievement on itself, considering they felt so heavy as if someone had glued them together - his head had been pounding so hard he had thought he might have thrown up any minute. That or because of the images that had been still fresh in his mind from the dream. Gold had been surprised he didn't find himself on the floor nor twisted in the bedsheets, and it took him a moment to realise just why. The mattress to his left had shifted, and he turned his head to find himself looking at Belle's blue eyes.

His lips parted in surprise.

"Good morning," she whispered, smiling slightly at his astonished look. Even with the swelled right eye, he still looked at least ten years younger with the way his hair was all tussled up and sticking in every direction. "How are you feeling?"

Gold groaned and hesitantly covered his face with his arm, wincing as it made contact with the bruising.

"As if a tank ran me down," he grumbled.

He stiffened when he felt a hand touch his hair before remembering that it was Belle's and not anybody else, cursing his reaction. He relaxed almost immediately, but she seemed to notice as the movement faltered for a second.

"Roy?"

"Hmm?" He still hadn't looked from under his arm.

"How much from yesterday do you remember?"

"Not much," Lair. He glanced from under his elbow. "Please tell me I didn't drag you to bed with me."

"I dragged myself if you insist on knowing," she answered his try at sidestepping the topic with a smile, but somehow he could tell she knew he hadn't told the truth.

He smiled slightly and grabbed her hand then brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. Roy more felt than saw Belle got closer to him and instinctively lifted his arm, letting her rest her head on his chest as he unconsciously started running small circles with his thumb over her shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Belle's voice sounded small and muffled by his shirt, but it wasn't hard to hear it. He couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut, though, tightening his hold on her shoulder at the same time.

"I'm f - "

"Please don't," she interrupted him lifting her head to look at him. "Please don't lie to me saying you're fine."

Silence.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Just... You're not alone in it."

He knew it to be the wrong decision. He was stalling or drawing attention from the problem at hand, but instead of answering honestly or staying silent, he twisted just enough to line his face with Belle's and crushed his lips against hers, hard. He could feel his body protesting, from the pain in his ribs to the way his split lip stung at the contact. But he didn't know what else to do, and he wanted to feel normal again so much it hurt a lot more than any of his physical wounds ever could.

When his kiss was rough and desperate, Belle's was soft and gentle. She kissed him back only after a second of surprise, but she didn't let it become messy on painful. He didn't stop when a spasm wrecked his calf, nor when his head began to feel as if someone had dropped an anvil on it.

He wanted to get lost in the feeling of having Belle in his arms, distract himself from everything that was going on, and she let him. Even if for only a little bit, because when she felt more than heard as he tried once again to stifle the hiss of pain, she gently put a hand on his chest. She didn't push him away, only put a little more pressure on it than just a normal touch, but it had the same effect.

Roy rested his forehead against hers, panting slightly, the small droplets of sweat forming on his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered still not opening his eyes.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she answered, tracing his stubbled cheek.

Gold laid back down with a sigh.

"Sorry for ruining in the morning."

"How about I'll go downstairs and bring us something back to eat, hmm?"

"Paracetamol?" He risked a look at her, bearly opening his eyes.

"Not the most healthy breakfast, but a good appetiser," she smiled, brushing his hear behind his ear.

Belle freed herself from his arms and swung her feet from the bed. She looked around for her shoes, finding them hidden almost fully under the bed. She must have kicked them there accidentally when she had gotten back to bed during the night.

Gold watched her from his spot on the bed, as she got ready and it took a couple of long minutes for his brain to finally catch up on what exactly he had found so weird about Belle's appearance. Still, when it had finally clicked, his eyes winded a little as his throat tightened.

She was wearing one of his shirts.

More than that - she had looked so natural in it that at first, his brain had thought it to be the most natural of things. He didn't know why seeing Belle in his clothes made him feel so emotional. Maybe it was because it looked like she didn't find them repelling and him by extension - the fact she had stayed a night with him when he had looked and acted like a total waste of air should be an indication enough, but somehow seeing her now made it more real.

He cleared his throat, willing the tightness to go away.

"You know, missus Lucas will skin me alive when she sees you?"

She turned around confused then giggled as she realised he was talking about the shirt and the time of the day.

"She likes you so she won't."

"I don't think we're talking about the same missus Lucas."

Belle rounded the bed and kissed him lightly, mindful of the broken lip.

"She will have to get through me first."

Widow Lucas wiped her hands on the apron, looking around the diner. It was a quiet morning with only a handful of people occupying the tables, nursing cups of coffee before the work. She nodded to herself, knowing the place would be empty in about twenty minutes or so and she would be able to do what she had set her mind to the moment she had seen her only tenant limp in from the back door.

She busied herself with cleaning the dishes until then nodding her goodbyes to the ones who had finished their meals and went on their way. Truth be told she hadn't seen Gold around for a couple of days. The first time had been only yesterday, and it only served as proving her suspicions that something had happened. He hadn't gone to work ever since the hearing - that Booth boy had brought some smaller works for the man over without giving away much information, and Ruby had insisted on carrying the meals for the Captain when Belle had been absent. Oh, and speaking of the young miss French, Widow Lucas hadn't been blind nor stupid not to see her sneaking around the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning that past couple of days. Also, her granddaughter, not being the subtle type, was more than enough for her to more or less seal her suspicions.

Gold didn't look good - not now, and not yesterday - and she didn't want to know how he did look like on the day that something had happened seeing the still lingering results. On both occasions, the man had seated himself in the farthest booth, away from the prying eyes, but the weak light wasn't enough to hide the bruises on his face or the knuckles.

It was more than apparent that he had been in the fight and lost it. The only consolation was that just two days ago widow Lucas had seen Keith Nottingham sneaking around the back alley with what clearly looked like a broken nose. Connecting the dots hadn't been hard after that.

When the last of the costumers had nodded his goodbyes, she riched under the counter.

He rolled up the leg of his trousers, wincing and biting down on his tongue before any louder noise could escape his mouth, then grimaced as his eyes fell upon the purple mess that was his right leg. Seeing how much it was bruised, it was no wonder why it hurt as it did. Gold was pretty sure that if he squinted his eyes, he would be able to notice the outline of a shoe nicely formed on his tibia.

Gritting his teeth, he firstly probed the limb with his fingers barely containing himself from crying out then reluctantly tried to stand up.

A bad decision it turned out to be, at least for the first try, as his leg had almost folded under him the moment he put his weight on it, and he would have fallen hard on the floor if he hadn't caught himself on the nightstand.

Stupid limb.

He took a shaky breath in and tried again. This time he had managed to stand up, but that was about it. Resigned, sweaty and out of breath, he sat back down. At least it wasn't broken - it had felt different from when it had been. Painful as hell, yes, but not even close to that time when he had tried to get out of bed while in Germany.

Gold reached towards the nightstand with one hand, producing the small jar of ointment form the drawer. He grimaced after unscrewing it, the smell not pleasant in the slightest, but it had been helpful before so he had to suffer through the inconveniences. He rubbed the salve into his painful limb, restraining himself from cursing aloud.

He had almost finished when the door suddenly creaked open and in his haste to pull down his pants leg, the jar slipped from his fingers and rolled away from him. He made a clumsy attempted to catch it but ended almost tumbling down from the bed instead.

And just like that, he could only watch as the jar rolled away from him and stopped at Belle's feet. She looked down startled at the item that had touched her foot, and it gave him enough time to hastily throw the blanket over his lap so it would cover his mangled leg.

Belle looked up from the jar to him, then back down. She fully stepped over the threshold and, after closing the door, she moved the food tray to her right hand before crouching down to pick up the salve with her left one.

Gold gulped, unable to meet her eyes as she put down the tray with the porridge and silently sat down next to him. The smell of the food suddenly made him want to gag, and the whole idea of eating anything totally abandoned him. He clenched his fists, watching with spite as they trembled, his mind jumping to yet another conclusion about his miserable self when suddenly almost all of them came to a halt.

Belle wrapped her arms around his torso, crushing him in a strong, firm embrace. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she didn't let go of him as at first, he stiffened then relaxed, melting into her. She held him as his shoulders started to tremble, when a shaky hand covered her arm and when his tears wetted her head.

"I'm broken, Belle." She heard him whisper against her hair.

"No, not broken," She answered firmly, holding him tighter. "Just chipped."

When he had finally made it down to the diner, he felt relieved. He knew he couldn't hide forever in his room, but between his leg hurting more than before and the unwillingness to face other people, it had been burdensome, to say the least.

Here he was - now almost former captain Gold, the man who before all of that had at least been respected and didn't like at most, now reduced to the laughing stock and a pushover. But at least he had forced himself to limp down the stairs for the second time and drink his coffee in what somewhat resembled peace, so he counted this as a victory.

He was just about to raise the cup to his lips when suddenly there was a loud bang as something connected with his table, making him jump and almost spill the coffee all over. Used to the panic attacks by now, he forced his heart to slow down and not show how thrown off balance the whole noise had made him, he turned to look for the source.

His eyes landed on what unmistakably was a golden handle of a cane, firmly planted on the table. With a scowl on his face, he glanced up to meet the unimpressed expression of missus Lucas, who without letting go of the cane, looked him dead in the eye.

"Something I can help you with, missus Lucas?" He asked, trying for an indifferent tone.

"This was my late husband's cane."

"All right..." His brows furrowed in confusion. Just where was the older woman going with this?

"Now it's yours," she said matter of factly.

What?

"I don't think I follow."

Missus Lucas grimaced. "I thought you a clever man, Captain, so don't make me rethink that."

She lifted the cane, flipped it, then put it fully on the table, crossing her arms when finished. Gold watched her do it, now even more confused, but there was some other emotion coming to the surface. He didn't make a move to take the cane.

"I won't take it."

"And why is that?"

"I don't need it."

Not entirely true and the woman didn't even bat an eye at the blatant lie.

"It cluttered my closet long enough. You can use it as either as door support, a tool to wack somebody or whatever, I don't care."

Gold's fingers twitched as if wanting to touch the item that now ley on a full display but he had caught himself in time to stop them. It was a beautiful thing - the shaft made of sleek, dark wood and the grip looked like made of gold with a distinctive, leafy pattern which made the captain briefly wonder how exactly could the late mister Lucas afford such piece.

The corner of Gold's mouth twitched. He knew exactly what the older woman was doing. He didn't make a move to take the cane, but he didn't push it away either. Widow Lucas humphed in approval then bend to pick up his empty plate.

"You should talk to someone, be that Belle or anyone really," she said, and he almost choked on his coffee yet again.

"About what?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "About bad coping mechanisms."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

She threw the towel over her shoulder and turned around on her heel without answering, leaving him gaping after her. As she heard the uneven steps accompanied by a tap of a familiar cane leaving the diner, widow Lucas smiled to herself. And when she walked back to clean the table, she had found one used cruth left behind, and her smirk winded.

He would have never say it aloud, but the cane was a blessing. It was just the perfect hight - which made him wonder if missus Lucas had done something to it beforehand because there was no way her husband had been the same size as he was - and thanks to that even after the short walk around his room his shoulder wasn't yet hurting. He was finally able to walk more or less in a proper way, clasping the grip in his left hand instead of the right one as he used to do when using the cruth. His injured shoulder had been killing him every time the pad of the crutch had dug into his armpit, but with that issue now gone, he had needed to relearn how to walk again. Surprisingly, it was quite easy, but still, it took him two days to get used to. At first, he had thought he looked ridiculous - a simple, old ex-soldier with too-long hair and cheep clothes parading around with a golden-handled cane, but Belle insisted that it was making him look distinguished in a way. She even commented that his jacket seemed to fit him more lately. Odd, considering he didn't remember eating that much more, but as he had looked in the mirror in the morning, he had to admit she had been right.

He was on his third round around the room, just about to rest as his mangled limb was giving him not so subtle signs that he should take it easy when there was a rap at the door. Gold tightened the grip on his cane and with a frown, made his way towards the sound. He wasn't expecting anybody - Belle was still at school, so who could that be?

Hesitantly, he pushed on the handle.

His eyes briefly winded as he recognised the young man standing on the threshold.

"Um, Captain Gold? I'm sorry to intrude - "

"You're not intruding, officer," he cut in. Graham Humbert smiled slightly, not minding the way he had been interrupted in the slightest. Gold was almost sure that there wasn't a thing in the world that could upset the other man.

"That's good to hear. Can I come in?"

"Be my guest," he didn't know what the officer would want, but either way, it was rude to keep the man standing on the corridor, and you didn't spend most of your life in the army not knowing how to hide your confusion.

"I'm going to take just a minute," Graham said while stepping in. He removed his cap and brushed back the stray lock of hair, that almost instantly had fallen back onto his forehead, making Gold smirk a little. "Can I ask you some questions, sir?"

"Am a suspected of anything?"

"No, no - of course not!" The man was quick to assure, chuckling nervously. "You see, there had been a break-in at Mr Booth's workshop yesterday."

"Was anybody hurt?" Gold asked frowning. A break-in? Yesterday? Odd, considering he had seen Marco just this morning and he hadn't said anything to him.

"August has a couple of bruises, but nothing serious."

Gold nodded to that, but his frown didn't disappear.

"We do have the men suspected in custody," Humbert continued, "and considering you do work at Marco's I wanted to ask if you had seen anyone suspicious in the area recently."

Gold shook his head.

"I was working from here for a couple of last days."

"May I ask why?"

"An accident," he answered.

Humbert nodded slowly, taking out his little notebook, flipping through the pages. Gold waited for the question about his appearance to arise, but nothing like that happened.

"Does the names Keith Nottingham and Haldor Frontland mean anything to you?"

His whole posture stilled but Humbert was still too busy with his notes to notice the small change in Gold's stance. Roy tightened his hold on the cane, his knuckles going white from the pressure as his mind jumped to the images of that night. What was going on here?

"Should they?" His tone was icy cold.

"They're the ones I got in custody and suspected of the break-in."

Gold didn't answer, but his hand started to tremble a little.

One day Gary will get that girl of yours, and when he gets tired of her, I'll have my way with her.

"Think again, Captain," Humbert raised his eyes from the notebook, interrupting Gold's thought. He could be mistaken, but he could swear small sparks were dancing in the younger man's eyes. "Are you really sure you haven't seen those men around the workshop?"

Gold gaped at him, unable to comprehend the officer's words. Was he expecting him to say yes? And if so, why?

"Maybe you have gone on the stroll in the area let's say yesterday's evening?" The man pushed on, and now Gold was pretty sure the sparks were there. Was this a ghost of a smile on Humbert's face?

Wait - was there a chance he knew what had happened on that day?

Gold relaxed just so slightly. Clever man.

"Now, that you mention it, I might have seen someone resembling those gentlemen."

"Splendid, that would match with other witnesses' reports, besides the one of Mr Booth's, of course. He did leave quite a good description of the culprits."

"Other witnesses?"

"Sorry, Captain," Humbert said, smiling while he put back the notebook into his pocket. "I can't reveal the sensitive information, but your landlady has very sharp eyes. Now, as that's cleared, I won't bother you again, sir. Good day."

The hat was back on the man's head, and he left without waiting to be escorted to the door. Gold watched him go, unable to say a thing. He stood rotten to the spot, trying to figure out what exactly had transpired in a matter of minutes.

Because it had seemed that the two men, who unmistakeably were even more waste of air than he was, would be now locked in jail, even if for a little while.

He limped to the window, looking down the street below, catching a glimpse of officer Humbert as he made his way down the road. As if feeling he was being watched, the younger man turned around. It was weird how he knew where to look at, and when catching Gold's eyes, he dipped his head with a smile.

What and odd man.

#once upon a time #rumbelle #rumbelle fanfiction #rumplestiltskin #Belle french #my fic #Fic: Until The last Petal Falls

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xxmonkeywrenchxx · 5 years

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Rough sketches for Jack’s eventual adult verse. Kinda just throwing ideas at the wall and seeing what sticks.

~Notes~

- He’s about 25-26 in this verse.

- The escrima sticks/shock sticks (which look way more like a pair maces here, need to work on their design), fit together to make a staff. The staff is capable of firing off a blast of electricity from one end, and this weapon only holds a charge when he’s holding it (hence the circuitry on his undershirt) and won’t function as anything but a bludgeoning tool for anyone else.

- Need to work on that circuitry pattern on his undershirt. It’s not appealing, really clunky-looking, and reminds me too much of Brainiac. Gonna try to come up with something more simplistic, probably going to take out the circles and go with more curving lines and swirls, something that matches his aesthetic better. Probably go with a gold on black color scheme. Might keep the hands the way they are though. Not sure.

- The necklace he’s wearing is actually the Monkey Staff. It’s been permanently shrunk down to the size of a charm that he keeps around his neck at all times, usually hidden under whatever clothes he’s wearing. He can activate it whenever he wants. Never really takes it off unless he’s having a particularly hard time transforming back or if he’s been activating it in his sleep.

- Need to work on the mapping of his scar patterns, too. Should probably rewatch the series with that in mind, but for now, just showing a few random ones and one big one he’s gotten since his 20′s. He got that after messing with Chase Young’s Lao Mang Lone soup. The bite broke his collar bone and seriously messed up his shoulder for a while (he still has pain in that shoulder and always will) but at least he didn’t lose his arm, which was what Chase had been aiming for. They also aren’t actually that color but I wanted to make them easy to see here.

- Unlike the ones he wore as a teen, these goggles can be used to tap into his security cameras and his robot's vision. They also have night vision capabilities. So overall they get used a lot more.

- With his outfit, I wanted to combine elements from Showdown and Chronicles. The kinda vest thing he wore in Chronicles is now a bit of lightweight body armor. Probably going to work on the bomber jacket some more. Might make it shorter and have it closed so he can have his normal Helepack straps. The backpack looking ones don’t look as nice/noticeable and would probably hall him up by the armpits. Won’t be able to see the vest, but I’ll know it’s there.

~General Info About the his Adult Verse~

While still claiming to be evil Jack has largely broken away from the Heylin side and is more of a neutral party. While he still works regularly with other semi-neutral bad guys like Katnappe or Tubbimura who are also really only out for themselves, he rarely ever works with Wuya anymore (unless it’s to get under Chase’s skin or ‘for old times sake’) and absolutely refuses to work for or under Chase or Hannibal. He will, in fact, go out of his way to screw the both of them over whenever possible, sometimes even if it means screwing himself over in the prosses. For whatever reason, his mentality toward the two of them has become one where he will gladly rip his own arm off if it means he gets to beat one of them with it.

Is known to occasionally help out the monks, but generally for the sake of dealing with a shared problem or just being a vindictive little shit to a bigger fish villain. He’s still far more likely to butt heads with the monks then he is to help them out, but things have gotten to a point that when he shows up at the temple it’s hard to know if it’s for good or ill. Or possibly a bit of both.

Like in Chronicles, he’s long since moved out of his parent’s home and is currently living in what is essentially a warehouse. But unlike Chronicles, it’s nowhere near as nice or intimidating. He’s also pretty much dropped any pretense about it being an “evil layer” outside of jest. It’s literally just a regular looking warehouse that he’s flopping in and semi retrofitted to suit his needs. It’s full of robot parts, various homebrew vehicles and half-made inventions. There’s also a semi cozy-ish living space shoved off into a corner of it. Not that much more impressive than the set up he had in his parent’s basement when he was a kid.

#it draws stuff #headcannon #ooc #be quiet Roach

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split-n-splice · 4 years

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Ah yes, the "hide secret boyfriend in the closet" chapter.

[Chapter Guide]

21. Welfare Check – 3

Through the slats, Drakken could see his accomplice peer up and down to check that he was well hidden in her cramped closet. Erring on the side of caution, he pushed his way further back to hide behind the rack of clothes, ducking beneath the shelf. Hiding from her family made him feel like a coward, but what choice was there? It was Shego’s idea anyway. He wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of them. It wasn’t like they were an ordinary family anyway – they were a bunch of lousy superheroes. It was healthy to be cautious of them.

He tried to freeze and breathe as discreetly as possible – but suddenly even his own heartbeat was roaring almost as loud as the jet engines winding down outside the apartment.

The jarring impatient ding-ding-ding-ding-dong of the doorbell was what finally woke the numbskull crashed on Shego’s floor by her bed, made clear by an incoherent grunt of confusion. Drakken couldn’t see him, but he hoped he was realizing how cold it must be without a shirt. He hoped he had pants on though, but not for sake of dog boy’s comfort.

Shego’s eyes darted to her groggy guest and back to the closet before her hands curled into fists, glittering with green embers, and she turned to take a walk of shame with her head low. It was dark and the slats barred his vision, so there wasn’t much he could do to keep a good view of her, though he saw her throw one last glare his way. He tried his best to hold still and pray he didn’t knock anything down lest he blow his cover.

The dumbfounded fellow bundled up in her spare blanket slurred something questioning, followed by the squeak of bedsprings as he flopped himself down in Shego’s bed. What’s-his-name was sure to be in for a big surprise. Drakken wished he could see dog boy’s face when Shego opened up to reveal a massive man blocking the doorway. It was an intimidating sight – even Drakken couldn’t help shying back a little.

The punk had ratted her out and had the gall to stick around. He may have escaped the stinkbomb, but there was no getting out of this one for him. If Shego wanted payback, she was sure to get it one way or another. By the grace of karma, dog boy was now caught red-handed in her bed by an overprotective big brother with a nose for sniffing out the seedy. Team Go was almost exclusive to the east coast, so surely all the Nevadan backstabber knew about the superfolk was the nationwide broadcast regarding the missing Shego and the generous reward offered for information on her whereabouts. By the hissed expletive, Drakken guessed dog boy had also underestimated their ability to show up at a moment’s notice, or at least the intimidation factor.

Before Drakken could grin and revel in the thought of fear struck in the young man’s heart, ear-piercing shrieks split the air.

“Trick or treat!” squealed a pair of little voices in unison, interrupting a tense standoff between Shego and her eldest brother. Two pint-sized children in red pajamas that matched Shego’s uniform sprang up in the doorway and grappled at her waist, and Shego stumbled as she stepped aside to reach into her purse hung beside the door.

“Yeah, yeah – here’s a trick,” she greeted, and the giddy twin kindergarteners leapt back in anticipation, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and bouncing on their toes. With a sleight of hand, she pulled coins out from behind the little boys’ ears, and while they were squealing something incomprehensibly delighted over the small change, she turned them around by the shoulders to push them back out the door. “Go buy yourselves treats now, will ya? Mrs. Landlady downstairs has a gumball machine outside her door. Go on, shoo, shoo – on the double.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, but they hugged her awkwardly again before racing off back into the dark, leaving Shego to the unhappy herculean brother looming before her.

Before either of the eldest two siblings could exchange more than frowns, they were interrupted yet again, this time by the purple one sidling in between them to give his two cents before the giant could open his mouth. “Yo!” piped the flamboyant ropy boy, leaning as heavily as he could against his broad brother. “We got the voicemail that you were—”

“Boy wonder filled me in earlier,” Shego interrupted curtly, jutting her chin up at her big brother, though Drakken noticed her glare was curiously set lower. She was avoiding looking directly at her siblings, he realized. “I didn’t get any damn sleep last night ‘cause of you jerks,” she griped. “Just can’t understand I want nothing to do with you, can you?”

“Hey,” whined the lavender boy in purple harlequin, Mego, with his hand pressed to his chest as if deeply wounded by her words. “It’s hard not to worry when you run off like that with some weirdo, and that means something coming from me. Where is he now anyway?” He shoved away from the stoic giant to lean in to peer past Shego, but she shoved him back into the man still standing mute outside under the porch light.

“How the hell should I know?” Shego snapped. “He was heading to Mexico, so I had him drop me off here.” Whether it was quick thinking or a planned cover – he’d have to ask her later – it was courteous of her to give them a false lead like that. It gave Drakken some reassurance she was on his team after all.

“Your sugar daddy dumped you already, huh?” snorted the contemptuous purple kid, and the warmth in Drakken’s blood froze over.

“Don’t make me hit you,” Shego groaned. The threat was halfhearted, a flameless fist raised in warning, though it still glittered weakly with green embers.

Taking offense himself, Drakken wished he had a front-row seat to such a showdown. “I’m not that old,” he mouthed indignantly to himself, though it wasn’t too far from the truth. Sure he treated his accomplice a fair bit better than his henchman – but she held a power that demanded respect and he had to stay in her good favor. Although he was growing rather fond of her company in particular. To say he wasn’t compelled to treat her well for the sake of keeping it would be a lie. It would be a bigger lie to say he didn’t selfishly want more than his fair share. But a sugar daddy he was not. He was still in his twenties and he didn’t have white hair, for goodness sake. Well, maybe a couple of grays, but he plucked those so they didn’t count. Anyway, he wasn’t paying her to be his friend. Or was he?

Mind reeling, Drakken almost didn’t catch the big blue bloke speak up before Shego and her twiggy brother could get into a scrap. “We just wanted to be sure you’re alright,” he said quietly, devoid of enthusiasm as he stepped forward. “You’ve had us all worried sick.” Somehow, the simple concern was enough to make Shego wince. Drakken wondered if the Hego fellow had a secret superpower other than superstrength. Something telepathic maybe?

“Not my problem,” Shego scoffed bitterly, trying to push them away from the door. “I’m doing fine. I don’t need a welfare check. I have to get ready for work now, so out. You’ll have to catch me later.”

The scrawny brother blinked. “You have a job?”

Shego ground out a sound of agitation but otherwise didn’t answer him. She slammed the door before they could push their way back in, quickly latching the chain and twisting the deadbolt with an audible click.

With Team Go out of sight, Drakken already felt himself beginning to relax. He hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been. But he couldn’t come out yet, not with her family just outside and her guest still in the room.

Standing on tiptoe to watch through the peephole, Shego ignored the dirtbag in boxer shorts ambling around behind her searching for his belongings and dressing as he questioned her on the clown freaks and the whereabouts of his pet. When the irritated young man tried grabbing her roughly by the shoulder to turn her around, he was abruptly shoved out the door into the early morning with such force he nearly toppled over the railing. His tattered backpack and dog leash were tossed out after him. The traitor swore and pounded on the door, but it was already locked once again.

After checking the kitchen window overlooking the breezeway was perfectly covered by the blinds, Shego returned to the closet. She pushed hangers aside to grab Drakken by the sleeve, yanking him out of hiding and out of her way. “Wait until everyone’s gone before you leave. And lock the door behind you,” she instructed quietly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Drakken whispered back. Truth be told, he wasn’t eager to go anywhere, hovering close at her side as she shifted through her belongings. He wasn’t convinced it was safe to be out of hiding just yet, even within her apartment – not with a bunch of superheroes outside.

Drakken was sure he caught a note of anxiety in her soft chuckle then, and he tore his eyes from the front door and back to her, fixing a frown on her. She patted his arm and quipped, “You can go back to hiding in the closet if you want. I won’t judge.”

“Yes, you would,” he scoffed.

“Daredevil, huh?” she mocked, and her smirk fell as she cast a suspicious glance to the door as well. “Whatever. Just – keep the lights off, or they might see you.”

He grunted in agreement but hovered by the coat closet as his accomplice made her rounds, closing windows and double-checking blinds and the locks on her door. She blew out a candle she’d missed, making certain the apartment was appropriately dark for this hour of the morning. She must have been as uneasy as him, having her family waiting for her outside. She had to face them eventually and risk them toting her off, but she was at considerably less risk than himself. If he left the apartment now, they’d be on him like flies on—

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she declared quietly in passing. “You behave yourself.”

“Certainly,” he mumbled.

No sooner had the bathroom door shut and the water cranked on full blast was Drakken was all but glued to the front door. While Shego – Shilo – got a start on the day, he anxiously stationed himself there as if on guard duty.

From the peephole, he could see the brand new hoverjet parked diagonally on the dinky lawn below. There was a notable lack of green included in the streaks and bolts of color decorating the craft. Team Go must have officially excluded her from the team, Drakken surmised.

The siblings of his accomplice gave the intimidated dog boy a hard time. What’s-his-name eventually brushed the heroes off and went to search for his dog, but not before accepting the monetary reward the big blue fellow grudgingly counted out for him.

Some friend that dog boy must be, to turn Shego in for a bit of cash in his pocket. Although Drakken couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same if he were in dog boy’s duct-taped shoes, down on his luck with nothing but a sack and the clothes on his back. It was still shallow. He still detested the punk.

Drakken wondered how his accomplice had ever gotten caught up with the likes of dog boy. Maybe she still had a hero’s heart and took pity on the less fortunate. Such would be a quality his mother might like – but how much good would that do him? She was probably just using the lowlife to get her fix. Drakken had his connections – he could get Shego her fix if she’d just ask. It wasn’t a priority, but he’d have to broach the subject sometime.

Day broke while Shego took a lengthy shower, but her family waited patiently outside. Well, almost patiently. The two hyper little ones clambered around on the wings of the jet. A handful of times, it seemed the lavender one had to talk the blue one out of stomping back up to the apartment. Some middle-aged man appeared to have a word with the herculean leader of the team, who pointed up toward the apartment in an accusatory manner. The average Joe pulled the children down from the jet and lead them off then, leaving the two older brothers behind.

It wasn’t much longer before a hand landing on Drakken’s shoulder gave him a start.

He jumped and gave the unhappy runaway a once-over. He hadn’t even noticed the shower shut off, let alone heard her blow dry her hair. Plain denim and white blouse, she was dressed and ready to go, although she didn’t look particularly psyched out. Drakken wondered if it had less to do with drudging through another day as a barista and more to do with the unwelcomed patrons she’d surely be serving soon.

Shilo yawned, and almost rubbed her eyes but stopped herself before she could smudge her mascara.

Maybe she was just tired.

She cursed miserably under her breath and nudged Drakken aside so she could take a peek through the peephole herself. Then she rocked on her heels and leaned back against the door, sighing wretchedly. “I don’t wanna go out there,” she grumbled. “I really don’t wanna go out there.” She leaned a bit to look past him, Drakken following her stare to the digital clock on her dresser reading a quarter past six.

“You could call in sick,” he suggested. “Maybe they’ll get tired of waiting and leave.”

“Unlikely. It’s a stakeout.”

Drakken grunted his displeasure, knowing she was right, and turned his frown back to her as she grabbed something from the coat rack by the door. As his accomplice pulled on the black sweater and tugged her hair free, smoothing the collar of her blouse over the crewneck, he raised his brow and swallowed futilely against something bubbling up. He tore his eyes from the bat brooch pinned to the borrowed sweater before he could be caught staring.

Miss Gough shouldered her purse and tucked a second-hand skateboard under an arm before nudging Drakken again to move him away from the door. She peeked out once more, sighed wearily, and gave him one last look. “Wish me luck,” she said meekly.

“Only if you wish me luck first,” grumbled Drakken in halfhearted retort. Goodness knew he’d need it with her family out there. He didn’t anticipate her catching his hand, and resisted the reflex to jerk it away as she lifted it, giving his knuckles a blow for luck as if he held dice. The gesture was simultaneously sweet and torturous. He swallowed against the something bubbling up in his chest again and he tried to smile, whispering, “Good luck,” to his accomplice as she slipped out the door.

Through the peephole, he watched her trot away, subjecting herself to the heroes that converged on her. She hopped on her probably-stolen skateboard and kicked off to stay ahead of them, clearly trying to ignore the two young men hurrying after her like her shadow. It was hard to tell, but he was sure she almost glanced back at the apartment.

There were still the two youngest team members to worry about of course, and whoever had taken them. Still, Drakken gave it a good minute, waiting until the senior members of the superhero team were well out of sight before making his escape. He may have narrowly avoided being caught, but he was far from at ease.

He barely made it to the car before spotting the two little kids skipping down the sidewalk, jumping over cracks. One boy paused when he noticed Drakken ducking into the wagon, and he shoved the other, who in turn tugged on the coat of the mustachioed man trudging along beside them. But the man was too busy glaring up at the apartment to see Drakken pulling away.

The stranger must be their father, he realized, risking a glance back as he idled at the stop sign at the corner. The man with the twins was an ordinary fellow of average build and a bit of a beer gut. It was hard to believe he might be the parent of five colorful superhumans when he was so drab himself.

Drakken was out of there before the dismal father could be convinced to look back at the weird blue guy he was sure the children were pestering him about.

If only facing the father of the young lady he’d spirited away was the worst of it. Assuming he had no superpowers, he could probably take that guy in old-fashioned fisticuffs if a fight broke out. It was the big one Drakken worried about. That was the one that could knock his lights out for good and with ease.

And yet, despite that worry, he resisted the urge to floor it back to the lair for a change of wheels. He was riding on impulse. The odds her family had shown up in full force for nothing more than a little reunion seemed unlikely – and right now, she was alone with the worst of them.

What if they convinced her to go back? Was she homesick at all? Would they use that against her? How low were a group of heroes willing to stoop? She was alone and outnumbered, and they had a jet and could be halfway back to Go City by the time he made it back to her.

Maybe he did floor it back to the lair, and maybe he wished the damn stolen station wagon could go faster.

There had to be something to Shego’s lucky gesture because it had to be luck that Lux was there to get the gate. Drakken ordered the surrender of his keys, commandeering the senior henchman’s red Beetle, and was peeling out moments later. The punch buggy was unimpressive but perfect for the job. It was unfamiliar to Shego’s traitorous playmate and far less conspicuous than the stereotypical white van of a kidnapper – not that kidnapping was on the agenda. That the Beetle’s windows were tinted was a bonus.

Back across town lickety-split, Drakken made it in time to spot the trio from a block away as they arrived at Buckley’s Brew. He parked not far up the street while their backs were to him.

It was a relief to see the big blue gorilla hadn’t simply thrown the former hero over his shoulder yet to tote her off, but Drakken watched with a glower as Shilo Gough argued with her family just outside the shop. She didn’t have the skateboard anymore, he noticed. If he had to guess, one of the young men had gotten rid of it for her, perhaps to slow her down so they could talk. If talking was what they wanted, talking was what they got, because she was giving them an earful, though they didn’t seem terribly put off by it.

Shilo was in the middle of giving them a piece of her mind and jabbing a finger at the gorilla’s chest when Joanne Buckley herself stepped out of the shop. Built like a tank, the baker rivaled Team Go’s leader in size. The two active heroes were in uniform. There was no way Buckley didn’t recognize them as she butted in between the boys and her tiny superpowered employee, ready to go toe to toe with the herculean hero.

Drakken sank down behind the wheel, chuckling under his breath as he anticipated a brawl to break out. He wished he had popcorn on hand.

He was only a little disappointed things remained civil.

With Buckley barring the door like a bouncer, Shego ducked inside, escaping the verbal dispute before it could escalate to physical. The strapping young man and spindly boy exchanged looks, and it would seem they had little choice but to surrender and let their sister go. The burly baker glared at their backs as they retreated. If looks could kill, the young heroes would have been lying face-down on the sidewalk.

Disappointment aside, Drakken relaxed and let his grip on the wheel loosen, though he was still wary as they came trudging his way. He was pleasantly reminded how convenient tinted windows were as he watched the superheroes, both utterly oblivious that the man responsible for whisking away their dear sister was right under their noses. He smirked smugly to himself, undeniably getting a small thrill out of flirting with danger. Should the purple one recognize him, he was done for.

Through the cracked window on the passenger side, he just barely overheard the lavender teen utter, “I don’t like it either, man, but maybe we should leave her alone? She’s doing better than any of us thought.”

“This can’t last though,” said the giant sulking brother in exasperation. “She needs to come home.”

Fat chance, Drakken thought to himself, his brow knitting as he watched them from the corner of his eye. He’d like to avoid a confrontation if possible and she’d made it clear she didn’t want her family hurt, but he might just break his promise and fight to keep her if she needed the backup.

“And I’m sure she will,” the small one consoled, slapping the blue gorilla on the back as they passed perilously close to the Beetle. “Eventually. Once she sees things can be worse, she’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” said the apathetic giant in defeat, and Drakken couldn’t make out the rest of their conversation.

#The Company You Keep fic #drakgo

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depressed-sock · 5 years

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Good Things Happen Bingo

A Fallen Hero fanfic

Friend to lovers

Past Kiyo/Ortega (I added some reference to my Thief series)

You don't know when things started to change between you. Your relationship built on annoyance that somehow Ortega shaped into friendship.

...

“You know you’re a terrible tail,” you sigh, footsteps halting in the alleyway you’ve turned into. Away from prying eyes and ears so that you can yell at him in peace. You turn, glaring at the man with the too bright smile and a look that screams of guilt.

"To be fair, I was planning to get your attention-"

"Oh? Was that going to be after the next four block circle I take you in again? Or maybe next week when you try again?" You cross your arms in no mood to deal with him right now. Every nerve on edge, every sense rubbed raw by the world around you.

"Is that why that tree looked so familiar?" He rubs his chin with a look of fake contemplation. You should have just taken him by surprise and punched him.

"Ortega, what are you even doing following me around?" You ask in exasperation, even though you can guess the answer. It's the same reason Sentinel keeps offering you a space to sleep, the same reason Anathema tries to take you out to eat, the same reason Steel looks at you with distrust.

It's been months and yet none of them can let it go and leave you alone.

"Honestly, I’m worried about you and since he hasn’t been caught-"

"He's gone Ortega there's nothing to worry about," maybe it's because you respond too fast with too much denial pushed onto the words, but you watch as a frown turns his lips and you know that you just made him more worried. Fuck.

He shrugs, looking down to think before he responds, "Kiyo… I just don't want you to have to handle this alone. I'm worried about you. We all are." He looks up at just the right angle, fucking puppy dog eyes.

"Fucking hell, fine. Hope you can keep up," you turn from him already running and it's what you're good at. Running away. Unfortunately, he’s also incredibly persistent. So if he's going to keep doing this you may as well make him suffer.

...

You can feel it shifting again with every smile he gets out of you, with every bit of kindness he shows you. Every tiny bit of time spent with him building up to something you're terrified to give a name to.

...

"This is a terrible idea," you mutter to yourself as you watch him walk out of his cover, hands up in surrender. An incredibly stupid idea. Fuck, he's going to get himself killed and-

Your mind follows the thread of thought of the villain he's decided to 'surrender' too. No mercy to be found in toxic thoughts. A clear path of thought, Kill him. God fucking damnit. This is such a terrible plan.

You hold your breath, hands shaking with each step he takes. He's talking but you can't hear him, your only focus being the ever growing maliciousness in front of him. He's going to get himself killed if you don't do something…

You close your eyes, heart beating in your chest. The villain moves-

And you pull the string, a quick yank and you feel their mind miscalculate the distance between them and Ortega. Enough that Ortega can react first, charge building in his hands until it's only the smell of ozone that tells you he's won.

"See, told you it would work!" He yells back at you, a smug grin on his face. You let the anger build under your skin, let it fuel your movements as you vault over your cover and stomp towards him.

"You fucking idiot!" He expects the punch but not the hug. You hold onto him tight, afraid to let go. Afraid of the reasons why building in your head.

"Uhhh Kiyo?"

"Shut up."

...

You tried ignoring it but it always came back with the sound of your heart beating too fast. You never thought that you'd look at someone and wonder what their lips would feel like against yours. Never would have guessed that you could feel something like this, or that you’d know what it would feel like to have someone like him in your life making it so much brighter.

...

"Hey, Charge! You're looking electrifying tonight!" You laugh, watching as he shakes the sparks out of his hands.

He grins at you in response, "Been saving that one?"

"Maybe," you shrug, smile hidden behind your mask. You’ve been saving a bunch actually.

“So if I said you take my breath away-”

“I’d say it’s way too late to use that one. I tackled you out of the way of that shot hours ago.”

“Ahh but you’re not accounting for something,” he’s walking closer, and for some reason, it’s becoming harder to keep your balance on the rubble your sitting on. “Because every time I see you it’s like looking on the earth from space.”

“... that makes no sense. What does that have to do with taking your breath away?” you congratulate yourself for keeping a straight face.

“Because- Seriously? I’m viewing you from space?” his grin falters, all smoothness lost in trying to explain. This was a great idea.

“Why am I the earth?”

“Because you’re my- your fucking with me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose as you laugh.

“No, really?”

“Goddamnit, I can’t believe I fell for that again.

...

It's infuriating, it's too much for you to handle. So you hide everything behind jokingly stupid flirting. That's all it is, a joke that somehow keeps escalating. Anathema had suggested fighting fire with fire, so you took it to heart. For every smooth move, every stupid pickup line and flirt he gave you, you responded back with embarrassingly bad ones and picking his apart as payback.

...

The kiss was softer than you expected, a bright contrast against the pain that had coursed through your leg. He's pulling you in, changing everything you believed and leaving you in a state of complete and utter confusion.

And it happens again, a different time but the same direness of the situation. Again and again and only in those situations. Until it's suddenly not as he shifts it and changes it and you're left with no choice but to follow with him down this path. Because you don't want to imagine any other way.

...

Times now spent together long after any showdown, times where there's no rush or panic in a kiss, no fear of losing each other. There's a name to what's happening between you but your afraid to think it and give it existence. Afraid of things you know you can't be. Not for him. Not for anyone.

...

"You know this part of town isn't exactly-"

"Where you expected me to take you?" You laugh, arms held out to keep your balance as you walk along the top of the crumbling wall. Ortega looks up at you as he walks along the bottom, words left unspoken but you can almost hear it in his gaze. "What? Did you really expect that this would be a date would be at one of your fancy restaurants?”

“No,” a chuckle in between his words, “I have no clue what to expect with you.”

"Well that's good at least," you step off the wall, falling into a roll in front of him, "would hate to actually be predictable." You stand, brushing your clothes off before sending him a wink. "Come on it's not far."

You guide him through the ruins of a broken city, past the squatters, past any sign of human life. You're not sure if it's unease or excitement that's building in his shoulders as he follows you.

You finally stop, a wall of vines in front of you and you look back at him with a smile before pushing them aside and walking through, "Found this place by accident a couple of years ago."

"Oh? And what exactly-" he stops, feet coming to a halt. You turn back again and watch as his face turns to awe as he realizes what exactly lies before him.

Walls and ceilings covered in ethereal like art. Some of them a bright mix of stars and sky, others keen to fantasy like forests, more and more. Each different but with the same quality. You've been through the entirety of the inside of this broken building and you've found every inch of it covered.

"This is-Did you?"

"Nope," your hand brushes against one of the walls with faded art, "I've seen a few people come and go but I think a lot of these were here long before any of us found it."

"This is amazing Kiyo," he's looking at you again with unsaid words that can only be felt in his gaze.

I love you.

"It's also a great place to stash bodies," change the subject, change the mood. Fuck. You didn't mean for this to be that personal.

"Steel did use to tell me not to go to dark places alone with you," he laughs walking forward and ahead of you. Taking your change in mood in stride.

"Only the dark places?" You laugh following behind him. You might not be able to say it now and maybe it'll be years before you feel comfortable enough. But for now, this is okay. Personal moments and words hidden in the way you look at each other.

#fallen hero rebirth #kiyo basri #ricardo ortega #good things happen bingo #fallen hero: rebirth #my writng

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ebaeschnbliah · 5 years

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KILLING THE BEST FRIEND

________________________________________________________________

After the events shown in Sherlock BBCs ‘The Final Problem’ it really looks like the connections between ‘the skull’, the ‘best friend’ and ‘sacrifying/killing the best friend’ are one of the most important components of the whole story. If not the most important at all. And on a metaphorical level it makes all the sense in the world too.

If you like, enjoy this idea under the cut …

Four cases, four characters, four different stories and each one circles round ‘the death of a best friend’.

a scientist (Frankland)

a detective (Sherlock)

a friend (anonym)

a sister (Eurus)

The Hounds of Baskerville

Little Henry witnesses how his father is murdered by Bob Frankland, his best friend. The scientist and Henry’s father are compared to Sherlock and John.

HENRY: Well, mates are mates, aren’t they? I mean, look at you and John.

For a subtext-reading I recommend @sagestreet ‘s ‘Follow the dog’ meta.

The Reichenbach Fall

JIM: Your friends will die if you don’t. SHERLOCK: John.

The showdown on Bart’s roof leaves two ‘dead’ men behind. Each of them forced the other one to commit suicide. And by doing this, Sherlock kills John’s best friend …. himself.

The Abominable Bride

EMELIA: Swiftly now. No Tears.

A ‘faithful sister’ asks an anonymous friend to kill her. This starts a war which divides ‘the world’ and lets loose invisible armies, raging furies, a monstrous regiment, a mysterieous cult ... subdued for a long time and not allowed to raise their voices.

The Final Problem

There are no dog bones in the well as expected. What emerges out of the water of the well is the skull of little Victor, who once had been Sherlock’s best friend.

In TFP the human skull in the hands of Sherlock’s best friend John, closes the circle backwards

to the skull on the mantlepiece in the living room of 221b Baker Street

to Sherlock, who introduces that skull as ‘friend of mine.’ and

to John’s question ‘So I’m basically filling in for your skull?’

The ‘skull’ and the ‘friend’ are merging into one another …. thereby connecting Victor, John and RedBeard. (More on that topic X)

And then, there is Eurus, the ‘other one’, the sister who supposedly put the skull/the friend in the well. Eurus, who wears a knitted cardigan very similar to John’s jumper. Another connection.

The ghost and the skull

a sister can be called a nun

a headless nun is a sister without a head, without a face, without a skull

Sherlock once had a case … code word ‘headless nun’

a headless nun can be a very effective ingredient of a ghost story

Sherlock accuses Mycroft … ‘You turned my sister into a ghost story:’

Sherrinford is the abode of ‘ghost sister’ Eurus

and in the well at Musgrave Hall lies a skull …

A headless ghost sister and a skull without a body. This still untold story seems to be all about some dramatic division in the past and because of that it almost screams for an end with a ‘reunion’ of skull and body. Of head and transport? Of intellect and emotions? Because ‘just a head’ - even the most cleverest one - isn’t able to exist on its own forever? And eventually the neglected ghost of a body, treated like transport, necessary but annoying, for far too long ….. awakens, begins to stir and demands to be heard.

In other words: .... a snowcaped mountain starts rumbling, becaus it actually is a volcano ….

“Sherlock Holmes, again, must have sexual impulses because human beings tend to -- most human beings, not absolutely all, but that's the majority. The fact is, he decides to put all that in an iron box to make his brain work better. Of course, the fact that that iron box bounces around and shakes and bangs from the inside is what makes the story interesting. He wants to rise above us like a snowcapped mountain, but he's actually a volcano, and that's where the story is. That's where the story is. You know, you shove Irene Adler in front of him, and he just falls apart like most men would.”

Steven Moffat on Sherlock (IGN interview, February 2014)

On a metaphorical level, what does Irene represent in this story? Sexuality. Irene is Mrs. Sex. I wrote about it in ‘Explosive ... it’s more me’. Jim Moriarty - Mr. Sex - represents Sherlock’s very own sex drive. Irene and Jim, both are gay and it looks very much like both are returning by the end of TFP.

Experimenting with metaphors

The metaphor creates the world - the time and place; the who, what, when, where and why. Metaphor literally means to "carry over," to substitute one thing for another. To describe one thing by means of another. To describe something that is unknown by the use of things that are known. (Metaphors in story writing and moviemaking)

Exploring the story told in Sherlock BBC has always fascinated me. And this fascination multiplied since the day I started to suspect that there’s maybe more to discover in it than the already highly interesting, coded subtext …. that even the surface level of that story might consist of carefully crafted metaphors used by the creators to paint a picture. The picture of Sherlock painting a picture inside of his own mind. A picture of himself.

SHERLOCK: Oh, hello again, Archie. What’s your theory? Get this right and there’s a headless nun in it for you. ARCHIE: The invisible man could do it. SHERLOCK: The who, the what, the why, the when, the where? (TSOT)

That this story isn’t only told from Sherlock’s POV but - for the first time in history - Sherlock Holmes himself has become the storyteller. And all the stories he creates and tells himself inside his head - on a mind stage - are presented through Sherlock’s own metaphors, acted out by different characters, clothed in varying costumes, hidden behind masks, some distorted, some made visble by mirrors.

The truth of the matter is that the underlying universal structures of great stories hide some amazing bits of wisdom concerning who we really are and who we were really meant to be, and what we can do to become fully realized human beings - but to keep these amazing hidden bits of truth potent and relevant, the metaphors that express them have to be constantly renewed and kept fresh - i.e. the underlying story and message stays the same but the costumes and other outer trappings have to keep changing with the times. (Metaphors in story writing and moviemaking)

Metaphors in storytelling have been used since humans are telling their stories. And inventing, creating or rewriting stories can also have a great healing effect that should not be underestimated.

In oral and written language, using the medium of picture imagery, metaphor speaks directly to our imaginative faculties, bypassing our rational brain. Such metaphoric byways and pathways enable us to explore the ideas, forces, and powers that lie behind or beyond our rational thought. Metaphors reach deep into our soul imagination and, simply stated, “touch our heart.” ... In Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s book The Little Prince we learn a simple secret from the fox: “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; What is essential is invisible to the eye.” (Therapeutic Storytelling)

Basically, this is the advice that Ella Thopson, the changeable therapist, gives at the beginning of the story, in PILOT/ASIP: “.... and it will help so much to write about everything that’s happening to you.”

Metaphors of ‘change’

There exist some key metaphors to express change and inner transformations, that are present in the literature of all world cultures (X).

Transitioning from caterpillar to butterfly

Awakening from the dream of reality

Uncovering the veils of illusion

Moving from captivity to liberation

Purification by inner fire

Going from darkness to light

Moving from fragmentation into wholeness

Moving through life events as a journey or path

Returning to the source

Dying and being reborn

Unfolding the tree of our life

It seems that more than one of those examples can be discovered in Sherlock BBC.

The metaphorical killing of the ‘best friend’

As the saying goes: ‘Old skin has to be shed before the new one can come’. Before any significant change can happen, traditional opinions and views must be challenged, altered and overcome. In The Big Question I tried to work out the core problem Sherlock seems to be dealing with:

There is friendship and there is love, between Holmes and Watson. Ever has been … unchanged … for more than hundred years. I guess no one would deny that. But a loving friendship is not the same as a romantic and sexual relationship.

If the traditional relationship between Dr. John Watson, the ‘fixed point in a changing age’, the eternal ‘best friend’ of Sherlock Holmes should change into a romantic and sexuell relationship, it makes sense that on a metaphorical level:

first the facade needs to go

then the ‘best friend’ can be killed

to finally make way for the ‘lover’

And if this change comes to pass through Sherlock’s own investigations, deductions and conclusions, it makes also sense that it is Sherlock who sacrifices himself in his role as Mary/facade and then shoots John/best friend in his incarntion as Elsa/Eurus …. just as it happens at the end of TST and TLD.

Sherlock’s ‘I love you’ confession in front of a mirror, directed at a mirror, followed a little later by the statement of his former facade ‘I know you two; and if I’m gone, I know what you could become’ ... happens in the very next episode.

A fitting and promising developement of a story that deals with the reunion of intellect and emotion and the metamorphosis from ‘best friend’ to ‘lover’.

Nonetheless, S5 would be highly appreciated at this point. :)))

I leave you to your own deductions. Thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.

January, 2019

@gosherlocked @raggedyblue @sarahthecoat @possiblyimbiassed @spenglernot @loveismyrevolution @sherlockshadow @sagestreet

#the skull #the friend #killing a friend #metaphorical reading #filling in for the skull #killing the best friend

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authoressskr · 7 years

Text

Riding Shotgun

Written for: @sdavid09’s TaleTeller’s ‘What If’ Challenge

Characters: Sam, Gabriel, Dean, Castiel, John (Mentioned), Mary (Mentioned), Bobby (Mentioned), Lucifer, Michael (Mentioned), Adam, Azazel (Mentioned), God Squad

Tags/Warnings: Language, Canon Divergence (It’s a ‘What If’ Challenge, ya’ll), Supernatural-type violence

Summary/Prompt: What if instead of being Lucifer’s vessel, Sam was Gabriel’s vessel?

Tagging: @sdavid09 @lyndsay88

Notes: Thoughts/Prayers are in italics. Beta’d by @thewhiterabbit42

There are several things that Gabriel knows for certain: sugar-free was no way to live if you didn’t have a medical problem, he looked fabulous in every color, and Sam Winchester – second born of John and Mary Winchester – was his true vessel. True, Gabriel enjoyed this vessel--five feet eight inches of golden haired and golden-eyed, sugar-fueled sex god and Trickster-- but he could feel the tugging thrum of Sam’s being reverberate around him, calling out to him.

Fate had dealt an odd turn. Sam should have been Lucifer’s vessel, but Azazel had chosen the youngest one, Adam, to curse with demon blood. Maybe he saw something darker in the half-Winchester. All Gabriel saw was a cosmic joke… the kid with the name of the first human created is his big brother’s human-hating vessel? Classic.

And because Azazel hadn’t chosen Sam, Mary had survived. For a few months, at least. One vampire, hidden under the stairs surrounded by his nest’s drained victims, evaded death at Mary and another hunter, Jim’s, hands. And a week after their hunt ended, he showed up on Mary’s doorstep. They made quite a racket as they tumbled together at the entryway – John stumbling towards the sounds and trying to pull the crazed man off Mary as Dean began to shout “Mommy!” from the stairs.

“GO TO SAM’S ROOM AND LOCK YOURSELF IN!” John snapped the order to his four-year-old, and he used every military advantage to pull the man from his wife. Once he heard the man’s arm snap, the assailant turned to look at John, mouth stained red and dripping with blood. But what made John stare were the razor sharp, pointed teeth. Mary held a hand to her throat, pointing towards the umbrella holder. John scrambled for it while pinning the man down, but Mary had dragged herself the few feet to it and pulled out a machete. She shoved at John’s shoulder then brought the knife down, embedding the end into their floor and decapitating the man that John was kneeling over.

“Jesus, Mary. Honey, are you all right?”

“Hospital,” she murmured, clutching to his sleeve as he rose, holding her against him. “Get the boys. I’ll start the Impala.” John nods before shrugging off his robe and wrapping it around her.

“Keep the pressure on it,” He orders sternly before taking the stairs two at a time to his sons. He knocks softly, not wanting to startle his son anymore. “Dean, buddy, let me in.”

Obediently Dean opens the door a crack before stepping back into the room to allow his father entrance. Sam’s little wheeled crib is pressed against the wall by the closet, and Dean’s tiny blue plastic chair is seated in front of it like a guard.

“Good job, Dean. We’re gonna go for a drive, okay? Go get your shoes.”

He got Sam wrapped in a thick blanket and grabbed a few diapers and wipes before helping Dean into his shoes and leading them downstairs. He kept Dean on his right so he wouldn’t see the body still lying in their doorway.

He loaded the kids in the car carefully before speeding to the hospital.

It was that night that John discovered the dangerous side of the world. It was that night, he lost his wife due to severe blood loss from her neck and arm. It was that night that changed the Winchesters forever.

One choice on Azazel’s part had completely changed everything. Because he hadn’t made a deal with Mary, since John hadn’t died, he had no access to Sam. So, he had decided to wait. They all knew there would be three boys with Winchester blood. And they’re immortal beings, so what is another ten years of waiting?

He'd seen the Winchesters before, well “seen” in his head – in Heaven before he ditched the boxing ring his brothers had made it into, seen that it all led up to John and Mary, Dean and Sam. And Kate and Adam Milligan, of course.

If Adam hadn’t been born with a slight heart defect, his mom wouldn’t have made the deal. Keep her soul and save her son, all she had to do was let him in in ten years’ time. The next morning, Adam was cleared from the NICU and went home with a healthy heart.

Decisions. Decisions. That’s what it really boiled all down to, Gabriel supposed. Dad had given the world free will.

And as usual, it had come to bite Gabriel in the ass.

First off, the professor deserved it. Ask anyone who has ever played Clue or failed a class.

The frat boy got his just desserts simply for the fact that Gabriel didn’t like bullies. And he was already on campus, so why not spread the love?

The scientist who was testing on animals – innocent animals! – got his comeuppance by sewer alligator, which Gabriel still chuckled over to this day.

It really was just a bonus that Sam and Dean had been at each other’s throats those few days. Part of him found it entertaining. Truthfully, it made most of him prickle with anger. It brought back too much of the beginning of the end for him. In the first few fights his brothers had picked, in the first barbed words. He hated himself because he knew far too well how this could snowball out of control.

At first, his screwing with the Winchesters was just because he could – a way to pass the time before the big bang. Partly because they wanted to stop his games. Mostly because they naïvely thought they could stop destiny. Could deny the roles they’d been assigned.

Which had led to this, uh, conundrum, he was currently in.

“It all comes down to you and me, Sammy,” Gabriel snarked, arms wide open in the circle of holy oil the Winchesters had him trapped in.

“It’s Sam. And no, it doesn’t. I’m not saying yes to you – I’ll never say yes to you, Gabriel.”

“Oh, Sammich, you’ll say yes. Desperation. That noble righteousness you and your brother are so big on. Maybe you just wanna experience a nice white sand beach before Armageddon.” He gets no reaction from either brother, or his own. “Personally, I say we light this candle!” Gabriel huffs a laugh, grinning at the three men in front of him. “Michael is gonna do whatever he can to get big bro to say yes. Oh, and Lucifer is going to con and manipulate his way into the little half a Winchester. There ain’t no stopping this show, boys.”

“Then why do we need you exactly? You’re just a runaway with daddy issues,” Dean snapped.

Gabriel pointed to himself. “Pot.” Then he pointed to Dean. “Kettle.”

Dean just clenched and unclenched his jaw.

“Listen here buckos, there is no stopping this. I’m sorry – I really am. But you aren’t going to find Daddy,” Gabriel spared a bored look to his little brother. “And you can’t stop this. Lucifer is gonna ride Adam’s ass either way. He’ll face Michael. And then, well then only one of them will walk away from this winner-takes-all showdown.”

“Heaven or Hell, which side you on?” Dean’s tense voice is more accusatory than questioning.

“I’m not on either side.”

“Yeah right. You’re grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer, which one is it?”

Gabriel clenches his fist briefly, too quickly for the Winchesters to catch. “You listen to me, you arrogant dick. I don't work for either of those SOBs. Believe me.”

“Hmm. Well you’re somebody’s bitch.”

Gabriel’s lip raises in a snarl at Dean’s words.

“Shut your cake-hole. You don't know anything about my family. I loved my father, and my brothers. Loved them! But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! Okay? So I left. And now it's happening all over again. I just want it to be over! I have to sit back and watch my brothers kill each other, thanks to you! Heaven, Hell, I don't fucking care who wins!” He can hear the tiredness in his own voice at the last line, he feels it trickle down his entire being and drain the well-placed mask he’s worn for so long.

And it’s the Dad’s honest truth – he’s tired. Of hiding, of lying, of waiting. The Winchesters twenty some-odd years is nothing compared to the millennia he’s logged, aching for home and for his family. For something that he can never return to. For something he knows he can never return to.

“Help us then. You can help us stop this.” He looks at Sam, takes in his words, and grimaces. There’s a spark of hope in those hazel eyes and so much determination to stop this. They’ve convinced Adam not to say yes – for now. Gabriel sighs, he knows the outcome. He’s known all along.

“It’s destiny. I'm sorry. But it is.” His voice is softer now, sadder. “Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be.” And then Gabriel watched his true vessel, Dean and baby brother Castiel walk away. “Uh... okay. Hey, guys? So, so what? Huh? You're just gonna, you're gonna leave me here forever?” Dean paused at the door, leveling Gabriel with a harsh stare.

“No. We're not. Because we don't *screw* with people the way you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers, or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you bein' too afraid to stand up to your family!”

Gabriel glared at the eldest Winchester, watched as he pulled the fire extinguisher system and the flames slowly died all around him.

“Don't say I never did anything for you!”

A handful of months later he feels that tingle, the one that spreads terror into his gut. Shit.

Adam had joined Team Winchester simply to try to buy himself some time from being the Devil’s new clothes. But it was Sam’s disjointed thoughts Gabriel heard echoing in his head that concerned him.

“This is the nicest place we have EVER stayed at.”

Gabriel locked onto his location fairly quickly.

“Hit the road. Fucking biblical type storm. Pie. Nowhere. Norman Bates. Elephant.”

Fuck. Gabriel could sense the gathering, all those gods. Kali had told him they were meeting, but now he had to go to pull Sam’s ass outta the fire. Lucifer wouldn’t harm his brother’s vessel or his own – he needed them. But he didn’t need Sam. There was a chance he would just use Sam to get Dean to say yes, and he couldn’t have that either.

“Rats in a maze.”

Gabriel hated not having options. Backing an archangel into a corner was not wise.

Plus, where here the hell was Cas? Gabriel pops into Muncie, Indiana using his Grace to keep him from prying eyes.

“Please be tomato soup. Please be tomato soup.” All three brothers scoff before Sam heads to the freezer door. “Motel hell.”

“Help us! Get us out!”

“Hurry up!” Adam shouts, moving forward with Dean help Sam.

“I’m going as fast as I –”

“There’s somebody behind me, isn’t there?” And with that, they are all unceremoniously dragged into the Grand Ballroom.

“We are so boned,” Adam sighs before one of the men shoves him down into a seat.

“Gods?” Sam repeats as the dark haired man begins to go over the ground rules. “Oh, we are so, so screwed.”

As the gods argue, Dean looks surprised while Adam is pretty much broadcasting that this is pretty par for the fucking course. Sam’s mind is trying to recall as much lore as possible as they argue before looking to his brothers and rising slowly from their seats, the chandelier crashing suddenly to block their escape.

“Stay.” Kali orders, glaring at the brothers before looking at the gods seated around her. “The archangels – the only thing they understand is violence.”

Well, for the most part she’s not wrong. Damnit, now he was gonna have to step in.

He uses his Grace to throw open the doors of the ballroom before waltzing in.

“Can’t we all just get along?”

“Gab –” He quickly silences all three Winchesters, smirking mask set firmly in place.

“It’s always wrong place, worst time for you muttonheads.” Stepping between Sam and Dean.

“Loki.” Baldur states with calm annoyance.

“Baldur. Good seeing you, too. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Why’re you here?” He asks, standing.

“I’m here to talk about the elephant in the room.” Ganesh starts to rise. “Not you. The Apocalypse. We can’t stop it, gang. But first things first.” Turning around to face the three men, he meets Sam’s gaze briefly. “The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later.” And snaps them back to their room.

“Gabriel! Next time I tell Dean to keep driving…! Shit. This is so screwed. So, deeply, uber, armageddon screwed. Gabriel! Get your feathered ass here now!” The thoughts which are normally articulate, nerdy, or planning are disjointed as Sam is conversing with his brothers. So much so that Gabriel is having trouble hearing this thoughts, talking the gods down and trying to overhear their actual verbal conversation now that all three of their brains are lighting up with adrenaline and keep shouting his name.

“Gank a few freaks along the way if we’re lucky.” Seating himself comfortably on the couch behind Dean – Mercury really outdid himself cushion-wise, he made a mental note to mention that to him. If they all lived long enough, that is… Noting the youngest Winchester’s seated position on the bed – is that as comfortable as this couch? – his blonde head in his hands.

“And when are you ever lucky?” Dean turns to face Gabriel while Adam simply lifts his head from his hands.

“Oh, you know what? Bite me, Gabriel.”

“Maybe later, big boy.” And he shoots a wink at Sam, who just clenches his jaw.

“I should have known –” Dean begins, gesturing towards the room.

“Maybe you guys could stop for two minutes?” Adam snaps, looking from Dean to Gabriel.

“Hey, look, it has a backbone! More Winchester in you now than wimp, huh?” Standing from the couch, he’d definitely would need to pop one of those into his hideout, Gabriel sighed at the situation. “Listen here, I’m the Costner to your Houston. I’m here to save your ass.”

“You want to pull us out of the fire?” Adam asks, bracing his hands on his knees.

“Bingo!” Gabriel smiles triumphantly before glancing at Sam once more, whose thoughts have just turned from what is going on to what is he up to and how is this supposed to help? “Those gods are either gonna dust you – which the God Squad won’t tolerate – or use you as bait.” Gabriel curls his middle and ring fingers down, gesturing to the boys. “Either way, you’re uber-boned.”

“Wow – ‘cause a couple months ago you were telling us that we need to play our roles.” Dean shifted from one foot to the other, planting himself more firmly between Gabriel and Sam. Maybe it was unconscious, maybe it was just that Dean always had to protect Sam. All Gabriel knew is it was pointless.

“Michael and Lucifer are gonna dance the Lambada. But not tonight. Not here.”

“And why do you care?” Dean’s question surprises Gabriel. He shouldn’t care. Really his only concern should be getting Sam to say yes or hiding away on a private island surrounded by women of all shapes and sizes in skimpy bathing suits. Not here. Certainly not trying to save his little broken adoptive family.

“I don’t care.” They all look unconvinced. “But, me and Kali, we, uh…had a thing. Chick was all hands.” No one was going to appreciate that pun. All hands? Come on! “What can I say? I’m sentimental.”

“Sam, you gotta listen to me. Convince Dean to leave. Lucifer WILL turn them into fingerpaint. You know I’m not lying to you, Sammich.”

“Do they have a chance? Against Satan?” Sam steps forwards, towering over his current vessel.

“Really, Sam?” Dean sneers.

“You got a better idea, Dean? I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?” Adam shifted his gaze from Dean to Sam, landing on Gabriel.

“It's a bad idea. Lucifer's gonna turn them into finger paint. So let's get going while the going's good, hmm?”

“O.K. Great, why don't you just zap us outta here then?” Dean rolls his eyes, exasperated.

“Would if I could, but Kali's got you by the short and curlies. It's a blood spell. You boys are on a leash.”

“Well that’s just great. So glad we cleared that up,” Adam groans, letting himself fall back onto the bed.

“Okay, yeah. Well, whatever. Well, we're gonna take the hors d'oeuvres in the freezer with us.”

“Forget it. It's gonna be hard enough sneaking you mooks outta here.”

“We can’t just leave them,” Adam interjects as Sam glares at Gabriel.

“They called you Loki, right? Which means they don't really know who you are?” Dean ventures and Gabriel doesn’t care for the new direction this is heading in.

“Told you. I'm in witness protection.”

“O.K., well then how about you do what we say, or we tell the, uh, legion of doom about your secret identity. They don't seem like a real pro-angel kinda crowd.”

He takes a step closer to the eldest Winchester who now realizes he has Gabriel in a corner. “I'll take your voices away.”

“We'll write it down.”

Another step closer, his golden eyes boring into the emerald ones. “I'll cut off your hands.”

“Well then, people are gonna be asking, "Why are you guys running around with no hands?"

“Fine.”

Gabriel went to seduce the blood off of Kali (which didn’t work well – ended up her collecting his blood too, Daddammit)…now Gabriel, Archangel, Messenger of the Lord, Loki and the Trickster was bound to Kali by blood. Funny, he hadn’t seen that coming. Maybe his charm was wearing off? Nah, that couldn’t be it. Kali has him march obediently back to the ballroom and not five minutes later the Winchester trio was tossed unceremoniously in as well.

“Well, surprise, surprise. The Trickster has tricked us.”

“Kali, don’t.” Gabriel warns. But he knew he’d be outed sooner or later. This just isn’t how he pictured it really.

“You're mine now. And you have something I want.” Her red painted nails press familiarly against his chest before sliding into this jacket, her hand wrapping firmly around his blade. “An Archangel's blade. From the Archangel, Gabriel.” She’s waiting for an answer from him. Like he should soap opera gasp and fan himself like a real southern lady.

“Okay, okay! So, I got wings. Like Kotex.” He pauses a half second, his gaze meeting her’s. “But that doesn't make me any less right about Lucifer.” And then Kali rammed the blade into his chest and white-gold light spilled from his eyes and mouth and Gabriel, last Archangel son of the Lord, slumped into his chair.

---

Sam felt a flicker of something as Gabriel died, but couldn’t quiet place the moment as Adam shouted “No!” beside him. Dean took a deep breath and rose, now out of angelic help to help kill Satan.

“Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up.” Dean began, wiping his hand over his mouth.

“Are you outta your mind?” Sam half-whispered, looking nervously at his big brother.

“You’re surprised?” Adam sighs out, but his body is just as tense as Sam’s.

“I'm outta options, Sammy. Now on any other given day, I'd be doing my damndest to, uh, kill you. You filthy murdering chimps.”

“Oh good, insult the things that could kill us,” Adam mutters under his breath, but Sam catches it and really, he does have a point. But it was a hell of a situation they were in.

“But, uh, hey, desperate times. So even though I'd love nothing better than to slit your throats, you dicks, I'm gonna help you. I'm going to help you ice the devil. And then we can all get back to ganking each other, like normal. You want Lucifer, well, dude's not in the Yellow Pages. But me, Sam and Adam, we can get him here.”

“How?” Kali asks, looking from Dean who tossed back a generous gulp of whiskey to Gabriel’s body then back to Dean.

“First you let those main courses go. Then we talk. We can either take on the devil together, or you lame-ass bitches can eat me. Literally.”

Sam and Adam both huffed out an annoyed breath, but rose to stand beside Dean as Kali and Baldur share a look before nodding.

“Fine.” Baldur agrees before he gives a wave of his hand to dismiss the other gods. “You’ll return here after you’ve released the entrees.”

Sam clenches his jaw at the way Baldur refers to the people, but follows behind Dean as Adam stands nervously by his chair.

Sam picks the lock a lot faster now that he knows what to do and ushers the people from the freezer to Dean who is waiting in the lobby to herd them out. Once he finishes he joins Adam in the ballroom, waiting for Dean.

---

“Come on everybody! Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go. Alright, alright, go, go, go! Get outta here!” Dean looks around a tad bit suspicious before he hears it again. It’s coming from the Impala.

“Psst! Dean! Don't look at me! Act natural. Get in.” Dean rolls his eyes but opens the driver’s door and slides in. He turns to address the archangel in his backseat, looking him up and down.

“Man, there is nothing natural about this at all. I thought you were dead.”

“You think I'd give Kali my real sword? That thing can kill me!”

“Then what do they have in there?” Gabriel grins at his own genius.

“A fake! Made it out of a can of diet orange Slice. So, uh, go snag our blood, would ya?”

“What?” Gabriel slides from behind Sam’s seat closer to Dean, his tone a little louder.

“I heard you in there. Kali likes you. You can get close. Lift the plasma, then we vamoose.” Dean clears his throat at Gabriel’s plan.

“No. Hand over the real blade. Better yet, why don't you sack up and help us take down Lucifer.”

“You can't be serious?” Gabriel gaffs at him.

“Deadly.” Dean’s face is that perfected mask of seriousness his father had usually worn and he couldn’t seem to shake now.

“Since when are you butt buddies with a bunch of monsters? That's all they are to you, aren't they?” His sarcasm was alive and well, glaring at the hunter.

“Alright, you know, Sam was right. It's nuts but it's the best idea I've heard, so unless you have a better one?” Dean raised his eyebrow slightly at the Norse god.

“Well, good luck with that.” Gabriel scoffs. “Me? I'm blowing Jonestown. Those lemmings wanna run off a cliff, that's their business.”

“I see right through you, you know that? The smart-ass shell, the whole “I could give a crap” thing? Believe me, it takes one to know one.”

“That so Dr. Phil?”

“Yes. And maybe those freaks in there aren't your blood but they are your family.”

“They just stabbed me in the friggin heart!” The archangel exclaimed, shifting away from Dean in the backseat.

“Maybe, but you still give a crap about 'em, don't you?”

“Dean.” It’s almost a plea rather than the admonishment Gabriel was going for.

“Now they're gonna die in there, without you.”

“I can't kill my brother.” Gabriel admits. He feels it deep down, that’s a fight he doesn’t want. His brother taught him, teased him, sided with him against Michael and Raphael. He can’t kill Lucifer.

“Can't or won't?” Dean watches Gabriel’s golden eyes flitter down. “That's what I thought.” And shoves the Impala door open and leaves Gabriel pondering his decisions.

---

“So you're going to summon Lucifer.” Kali states rather than questions, raising a delicately arched black eyebrow.

“Sort of. I just need you to squeegee some stuff from my ribs and he'll come running.” Adam answers, waving a pale hand in front of his chest. Sam smirks at his answer.

“Breaking them would be easier.” Kali replies, Adam and Sam’s eyebrows shooting up before Sam’s settled into his trademark bitchface. Dean swaggers into the room, and Sam knows it isn’t good news by the set of his mouth.

“Show's over. Sword's a fake, and Gabriel, he's still kicking. I hate to break it to you, sister, but you've been tricked.”

Baldur clenches his jaw before looking down at Kali. The lights around the ballroom begin to flicker, the fear palpable as everyone knows what this heralds.

“It’s him.” Adam swallows hard, shifting to his left to get a tad farther from the doors.

“How?” Kali snaps, annoyed.

“Does it matter? Shazzam us outta here, would ya?” Dean tells more than asks, looking from Kali to Baldur.

“We can’t.” Baldur replies before the doors swing open to reveal Lucifer Morningstar.

“Of course you can’t. You didn't say "mother, may I?" Sam, Dean, Adam, good to see you again.” Adam stares at Lucifer, his vessel is peeling and spotty, and now, covered in blood splatter thanks to the unseen carnage lying just beyond them in the hall. Baldur shifts, straightening his posture while glaring at the archangel.

“Baldur, don't.” Kali warns softly, but Baldur moves forward anyway, anger radiating from the Norseman.

“You think you own the planet? What gives you the right?” Sam wants to yell to Baldur that he is too close, but before he can even form the complete thought, Lucifer’s hand is sticking out of Baldur’s back, ripping him apart from the inside.

“No one gives us the right, we take it.” Lucifer even gives his fingers a little wiggle before shoving him down and off his hand.

Kali’s sharp features turn from concerned to enraged, flames licking from her hands up her arms. She throws her hands forward, sending the flames hurtling at Lucifer, Sam and Dean tossing Adam over the table for cover before jumping over themselves. They hear a few more loud thumps, flinching at the sounds before looking at each other.

“You okay?” Sam asks, looking from Dean to Adam.

“Not really. Better late than never, huh?” Sam is startled by Gabriel appearing to his left besides Dean. He tosses a dvd box at Sam before clasping Dean on the shoulder. “Guard this, with your life.” Gabriel rises, Angel Blade grasped tightly in his hand as his big brother is blown backwards through the Grand Ballroom’s doors.

“Lucy, I’m home.”

Be careful, winged ass monkey. Sam prayed, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat as he looked to his brothers, who rose up carefully as Gabriel eased towards Kali, sprawled on the floor.

“Not this time.” Gabriel wrapped his free arm around her waist, hauling her upright and letting the Winchesters fall in line behind him. “Guys! Get her outta here.” He pushes her towards the door and gives one last look not at Kali, but at Sam.

That’s Mr. Arch winged ass monkey, Sammikins. Gabriel snarks back, turning to face his big brother.

“Over a girl. Gabriel, really? I mean I knew you were slumming, but I hope you didn't catch anything.” Is the last thing Sam hears as they make their way down the hall, carefully avoiding as much of the slaughter as they can in their haste to get to the Impala.

“I'm not getting in that thing.” Kali’s voice is loud in the silence of the night, the only noises being made are their footfalls on the wet concrete and the squeak of the driver door as Dean pops it open.

“Just get in the car, princess.” His tone is commanding, and yeah – a bit arrogant for Kali’s tastes, but they have to put miles between them and Lucifer and they all know it. Gabriel is buying them time and it’s too precious to waste.

Sam opens the door for Kali as Adam climbs into the back seat behind Dean. Baby’s motor starts and Dean scans the lobby and surrounding area one last time. Just before Sam slips inside the car, he pauses. He can hear Gabriel inside: “Because Dad was right. They are better than us.” And then once he’s sitting in the front seat, shotgun, where he belongs – beside Dean – he hears a question, so softly he almost misses it.

Won’t you be my neighbor?

It’s so corny, yet so vulnerable and Sam knows, just knows that Gabriel isn’t going to walk away from this. His bag of tricks against Lucifer are limited and he’s just buying as much time as he can for him.

Yes. He prays back, before it feels like his whole body is a livewire – he feels like he’s moving too much, like he’s bouncing down a rough back road at high speeds and at the same time his whole body’s got a numbness to it, like full body novocain. Then Sam blinks and it’s over. What felt like at least a handful of minutes is in reality an outpouring of milliseconds. He doesn’t feel different, not really. But something is off. Then he hears Gabriel’s voice, like he’s perched, arm’s folded with his head propped on top of his wrists, on the back of the bench seat Sam’s sitting on. Sam nearly turns to, then reminds himself that the car is silent. No one has said a word.

It’s another fifty or so miles before Kali barks out an order to pull over. When Dean does, he grabs her wrist before she can disappear.

“Blood.” The four vials appear in her hand and she crushes them then flames burst from her palm, engulfing the shards and liquid. Then she simply disappears. And while they can’t take a deep breath yet, they push on until day breaks and they’re close to the state line. Dean asks for Sam’s laptop and pops the dvd in that Gabriel had wanted them so badly to keep safe.

A red screen appears, scrolling credits while cheesy “porno music” plays in background.

“Oh Jesus.” Adam mutters as the title appears. Casa Erotica 13. Dean wrinkles his forehead and looks at Sam, who just gives a small shrug. How the hell was he supposed to know what this was? Although, knowing what they knew about Gabriel, this wasn’t anything they shouldn’t have expected. He is, after all the guy who put them on a Japanese gameshow that hit Sam in the balls. Hard.

“Dear Diary, being a high powered business president is super-fun. But sooo exhausting. Sometimes, I just need to relax. I need Casa Erotica.

“Room Service!”

“Come in!”

“Gabriel wanted us to guard this with our lives?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows as the woman sits up on the bed.

“Maybe he's a fan. It is a good one.”

“Really, Dean?” Adam sighs before looking back to the screen. And as the door open, there’s Gabriel, Messenger of the Lord, Archangel, and Trickster, wearing a fake mustache and a service waiter’s outfit, big silver tray held aloft in one hand.

“I've got the kielbasa you ordered.”

“Ooh. Polish?”

“Hungarian.” Gabriel tosses the dish onto the mantle, it clattering to the floor as he moves into the room. Adam looks at Sam, then Dean as they hear Gabriel and the woman kissing and giggling. All three Winchesters look disturbed and even Dean is rethinking the whole porn loving aspect of his life in this moment. Then the giggles turn to moan from both of them.

“What the hell's going on?” Sam tosses up a hand in exasperation, gesturing towards his laptop.

Right after he asks, Gabriel turns to the camera, removes his mustache and smiles.

“Sam, Dean, Adam. You're probably wondering what the hell is going on.” Then there’s laughter, light and just a dash of actual humor in it, rolling through his mind.

Gabe? Had he been just saying goodbye earlier in the car? Had Sam not said yes quick enough?

“Well, if you're watching this, I'm dead. Oh please! Stop sobbing, it's embarrassing for all of us.”

Dean looks at Sam and Sam knows it’s because Dean was hoping for a different outcome if Gabriel fought with them to stop Lucifer. Now they had no chance to ice the Devil.

“Without me, you've got zero shot at killing Lucifer, sorry! But can trap him. The cage you sprung Lucifer from? It's still down there. And maybe, just maybe, you can shove his ass back in. Not that it'll be easy. You gotta get the cage open, trick my bro back into it. And uh, oh yeah, avoid Michael and the God Squad. But hey, details, right?”

Adam looks excited at this prospect. He doesn’t want to be Satan’s vessel anymore than Dean wants to be Michael’s.

“And here's the big secret, Lucifer himself doesn't even know -- the key to the cage? It's out there.” They all exchange a look. “Actually it's keys, plural. Four keys, well, four rings. From the Horsemen.”

Well, fuck.

“You get 'em all, you got the cage. Can't say I'm betting on you boys. But, uh, hey! I've been wrong before.”

They all take a deep breath. At least it’s a new plan – a new way to stop the end of the world.

“And Dean, you were right. I was afraid to stand up to my brother, not any more.” Gabriel rises, puffing his chest out a tad as that shitty smirk rolls across his features. “So this is me, standing up.” Sam grimaces cause he can guess where this is going. “And this is, me, lying down.” Gabriel turns, lifting the woman with ease and tossing her onto the bed before leaping on top of her. Clothes begin to fly as they both moan in tandem and Sam slams his laptop closed.

Don’t worry, Samsquash, you saved my feathery Kotex ass.

Holy shit. Does - does Lucifer think he killed you?

Uh yeah. I am the Trickster.

So, you gonna help now?

Not like I got anywhere else to go, Sammy.

“Horsemen, huh? Well we got War’s. We nicked Famine’s. That’s two down. Collect all four?” Dean lays out, rapping his knuckles on the Impala’s hood twice. “All we need is Pestilence and Death.”

“Oh, is that all?” The sarcasm is oozing from Adam as he runs a hand over his face.

“It’s a plan.” Dean assures him as Sam plucks his laptop from the roof, and climbs into the passenger seat.

Do you know where Pestilence is?

Find a dickwad demon and then follow that trail. Sorry – Gabriel yawns – I’m a little outta juice. We’ll pick this up later, Sammich.

Angels don’t sleep.

No, but I gotta recharge the batteries. Faking one’s death, making a porno, and jumping aboard the good ship Samuel is a lot of work.

Fine.

Hey, Sam?

Yes, Gabriel?

You gonna tell your bros I’m riding shotgun?

Not right now.

I know how you boys are with secrets, might as well rip this band aid off.

Aren’t you supposed to be resting?

10-4 on that, Sammy. Lying to the bros. Gabriel out.

Sam rolled his eyes as they drove towards the nearest motel to rest and call Bobby with this new information, looking out the window. How was he supposed to tell Dean and Adam that Gabriel wasn’t dead, but was now inside Sam? Something they had all sworn not to do? Sam rested his head against the window as greenery flew by and he was happy, at least for a moment. Gabriel wasn’t the nicest angel, but he had come back and bought them time. Whether he liked it or not, Gabriel was now firmly Team Winchester and it was sort of nice, Sam thought, that they had Castiel and Gabriel to watch over them and help.

I always knew you were a softie.

Shut up, Gabriel.

Maybe Sam had thought that too soon.

#taleteller's what if challenge #what if challenge #what if Gabriel's true vessel was Sam Winchester #Supernatural #spn #authoressskr writes #gabriel #sam winchester #dean winchester #adam milligan #hammer of the gods #maybe a part 2 later

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pixiedurango · 7 years

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A wanted man

Another snippet in cut scene length for Tempest Ryder and Reyes Vidal. Set after the ‘duel’ and again those two nerds being horrible with feels. The song is an important part of my Ryder/Vidal playlist and I highly reccommend it (as I can reccommend a lot more the artist has done.) I’ll probably base more snippets on Royal Deluxe songs because they just have the right spirit for them two.

They didn’t know it when they turned me loose I shot the sheriff and I slipped the noose The law ain’t never been a friend of mine

I would kill again to keep from doing time You should never ever trust my kind

I’m a wanted man I got blood on my hands Do you understand I’m a wanted man

…

If you ask me to change I don’t know, if I can I’ll always be, who I am Royal Deluxe - I’m a wanted man

The reek of sulphur is everywhere, even when you are deep down in a cave and it would linger for quite a while in their armors and hair no matter how long and hot they’d shower and how thoroughly they’d clean their clothes.

Even the dim twilight of nightfall holds a unhealthy yellowish gleam that just feels unnatural. And unhealthy.

Drack and Vetra are nowhere to be seen and given the fact that they had a makeshift bar in that Collective built compound deep inside one of the huge Draullir caves, Tempest does not worry about her friends being OK. She’s not so sure about Reyes. Because he is quiet and broody ever since they had left the place where the ugly showdown with Sloan had happened.

Right now they both are jammed together deep down in the Nomad’s belly. Slightly claustrophobic if they’d suffer from it but also close enough to consider it - if not romantic but at least intimate. They are working on some conductors and infusers that had been ruined today by Tempest and her non existent driver’s skills. She’d pulled the vehicle into a puddle of acid which had caused some serious harm on the Nomad’s engine. Well, basically he is doing the work and she’s assisting as much as she can by handing over the tools he describes to her.

“You’re quiet.” She says eventually. Not the smartest notion to engage a conversation but she has no idea where else to start.

“Says the one, who is brooding for at least an hour now.” His warm voice smoothes out the teasing and one hand, still carefully manicured but smudged in oil and grease rests on her knee for a moment in a soothing sign of affection. And he’s right, it’s not only him being silent after today’s events.

“Had been a hell of a day.” She mutters and he makes a humming noise of agreement. They are still finding their ways with each other. Talking, flirting, teasing is something that comes easily for both of them but they have to face the fact that talking feelings is a whole different thing.

“Ryder?”

“Mhmh?”

“Nothing.” More silence only broken by the beeping sounds of his omnitool and some bristling wires from deeper inside the Nomad. He wants to ask but does not dare because he feares her possible replies.

“Can I ask you something?” Tempest literally chews her lower lip. She has no idea how he’ll react to her question.

“Sure. Anything.”

“If you’d have duelled Sloan… I mean, really duelled… Would you’ve had a chance?” She closes her eyes and waits. On what ever reaction is there to come. Probably she’s bruised his ego with that question enough to engage into their first fight.

He takes a long moment to consider her question. It hits his own issues right in the guts. The issues he has not been brave enough to voice and once more he realizes how he admires her capability to grab the bull by the balls. Literally. Reyes grins but since his face is hidden under a bunch of wires and circuit boards she can not see it.

“I… probably would have, yes.” He finally begins a bit reluctant. She knows his past by now. Knows who he was. Who he still is and will continue to be. And she is fully aware that no one would become the leader of a criminal organisation / rebellious counter force of a mainly criminal planet that runs with a bit more than anarchy, if not for mere survival skills and the right amount of ruthlessness.

“But?” It’s not easy to roll over to the side in this confined space but she manages somehow. Wants to see his face, his eyes during this conversation. “You’re not the kind who avoids getting their hands dirty.” Her chin nods vaguely towards his hands.

“I just wanted to take the advantage and make sure I’ll be the last one standing in this duel.” He deactivates his omnitool and puts away the screw driver he just had been working with. Reyes also turns over to his side so they rest face to face finally. Confined spaces have at least one perk… Their kiss is surprisingly soft, considering the passion earlier today in the twilight of the cave. This is one of the things he loves about Tempest Ryder. She’s a woman for both, rough and tender. A force of nature and a calming cloud of… home. And he loves the fact that she would kill him if he’d tell anybody… “All is fair in love and war.” He murmurs into their kiss and her response is a smile.

#f!ryder x reyes #Reyes Vidal #mass effect andromeda #Tempest Ryder #tempest x reyes #more snippets #unsorted bunch of additional cut scenes #with smooches #go listen to that song #its great #I should be working #but I'm weak

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evilsapphyre · 7 years

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Milky Way Scars

Female Ryder (Yumi Ryder) / Reyes Vidal

(Kadara & Reyes spoilers ahead)

Accepting truths can be difficult, but sometimes, it's the only way to let the scars heal.

Artificial light streamed through a slatted vent. Yumi was almost certain that it was probably daytime, just beyond the walls of the Kadara Slums, but somehow it seemed that the unnatural brightness was more appropriate. Especially given the shadowed information that she learned about her current lover, Reyes. After what he did, how he lied, she should have run far from him, escaped back to her ship, but even knowing what he planned to do with Sloane…

She froze; she let it happen. She may as well have been the sniper. Sloane’s blood was as much on her hands, as Reyes’.

And now she was laying in bed next to him, basking in… well whatever the fuck this relationship was, like they just hadn’t enacted a major coup of Kadara. She had no idea what she chose, to be honest, and the scary part was that part of her didn’t care. It was that same part that felt so connected to him, back in the shipping yard, that was letting her just drown in this man.

He was an admitted liar, thief, and murderer, and she still wanted to be right here.

God, it was probably a good thing Scott was still in that damned medically induced coma. She’d never hear the end of this one. It was going to be bad enough heading back to the Tempest. She hadn’t exactly taken the most non-discreet crew members to that showdown. The news was going to spread like wildfire, and she’d have to deal with those repercussions too. If only she took Vetra with Drack, instead of.... Oh, fuck, who was she kidding? All of them had good reason to question her, and make sure her decisions were known to the full crew.

Biting back the sigh in her throat, she shifted in the bed, trying her best to not disturb the naked man lying next to her, the heat of his skin tingling against hers. Her brain, with no assistance from SAM (as she told him to keep quiet until she left Tartarus), tried to asses the best way to collect her clothes, scattered as they were, in this tiny, hidden room. She’d have never guessed when she visited him before, that he actually had a sleeping area tucked away here.

Not that it hadn’t been quite convenient once they tired of the cave.

And the shuttle.

His arm draped itself over her hips, hand splayed against her stomach as he pulled her close against him. She told herself it was the surprise of the action that shot the shiver down her spine, that she wasn’t aware that he had been awake, and nothing else.

A happy, contented noise escaped him as he pressed a kiss just under her left ear, his nose nuzzling the exposed flesh. A bubble of laughter caught at the back of her throat, and she couldn’t even try to contain it, as a warmth spread through her chest. “I thought your were asleep.”

(Continued on AO3)

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #reyes vidal #yumi ryder #fem!ryder #reyes x ryder #sapphy writes fanfic #mass effect spoilers #ME:A #ME:A spoilers

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thisisnotasafari · 6 years

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Graduation, or Showdown at the Rice Depot

At the time, I only knew that graduation was a big deal, but how big I had no way to know. The ceremony itself, which took place on the following Saturday in late September, hosted about five-hundred people, not including students. The head table and seating area were beautifully decorated with ribbons and cloths, and streamers were tied to the support poles (or tree trunks), which were dug deep into the ground and held together ingeniously by a complex system of branches and twine. (Some of these students have a definite future in engineering.) A thatched roof of banana leaves was carefully laid over both seating areas to keep off the rain, which thankfully didn’t come. **

The graduation committee, of which I was a part, was one of my most memorable experiences in learning how planning works in Tanzania. After an hour-long meeting, mostly in Kiswahili, all of the teachers were divided up into different groups to handle tasks, such as cooking, decoration, and supplies. I was put on the supplies team, which meant that a group of us walked to town that afternoon with a list and a small amount of cash to get the things we needed. Fine. I had a hot date with the couch and one of the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo books that afternoon, but I supposed it could be rescheduled. I had no idea what I was in for as we walked to town. I was still relatively new, remember. I thought we might be able to methodically find what we needed and cross things off the list, one by one. How wrong I was. As soon as we got to town, my friend Juma left to go to mosque, since it was Friday. Why he hadn’t thought of this is beyond me, but he said he’d meet up with us later. Since he was in charge and the holder of the list, he passed it to me. Perfect, give it to the white guy who speaks no Kiswahili and doesn’t know where to buy anything. My friend Tibert took pity on me and we made our way from the soda wholesaler, who conducted business hunched over a few cases of Sprite as a guy with no shoes pounded a warm Safari beer on a plastic chair under his roof, to Mama Africa, where we bought plates and cutlery, which didn’t look like nearly enough. Then, as an afterthought, we had to make another trip to The Expensive Lady for more plates and napkins (an afterthought).

Chicken and meat were on the list, but I had no idea how to accomplish the task of purchasing those, so I ignored it completely. Next was rice and beans. Fine. I thought I knew how to find those, but turns out I was wrong again. Instead of going to one of the smaller dukas where they sell them in bins and measure them out into plastic bags for you, we went to the source: the rice depot, the place where all the giant forty-pound, toddler-sized bags of rice were delivered, cleaned, and sold to shops in Mahenge. A group of five suspicious people were sitting outside in the entrance, and the interior looked a) deserted, b) like an industrial accident waiting to happen, and c) reminiscent of the lair of a particularly inspired serial murderer. I heard loud, clanking machinery seemingly running at full clip, but it didn’t look like anyone was concerned. A fine haze of rice dust stuck to everything, including the people sitting outside, and iron bars covered the windows. We approached slowly, exchanging greetings, and they looked distinctly unhappy to see us. Was it me? Was I not welcome in the rice depot? Could they sense my fear? Never had I been so hesitant to engage in the purchase of rice. The thought crossed my mind, “Was it a front?” The group of teachers stood facing the rice gang at the entrance to the building, like the Sharks and the Jets, and waited, tensions flaring, feeling each other out and waiting to see who would budge first. Or so it felt to me.

Tibert reached into a nearby sack of rice and pulled out a few grains, as if inspecting them for quality, demonstrating perhaps some reason that this rice was of inferior quality and justified a price break. “Don’t accuse them of having bad product!” I thought, knowing (maybe) how that goes down on the New York piers and the docks of Shanghai during stand-offs such as this. Someone was going to yell something crazy and shoot a gun off into the air! Instead, a member of the rice cartel, a woman, laughed and shouted very rapidly to an invisible person who must have been inside the depot. “No!” I thought, “It’s the leader, he’s here, he’s coming for us! He’ll have a giant scar across his face and carry some kind of club and speak only in one-word sentences!”

Instead, the teachers laughed and reached across to shake hands with the rice gang. Evidently, a deal had been struck. “Let’s go, Mr. Steve,” Tibert said. I happily followed him back up the stairs and across the street, where I was told to wait on the front stoop of a duka that mostly empty inside save for a few ratty kangas and some shovels to collect the delivery of rice. “This must be the supplier!” I thought. “Pretty soon, a truck is going to pull up and two skinny guys are going to race around to the back and throw unmarked sacks on the side of the road and then pull away into traffic, swerving wildly and making rude hand gestures at everyone. I can’t wait.”

Instead, I sat on the stoop of the duka for about an hour and a half, attracting the attention of a few small kids who came and sat next to me, looking over shyly every few minutes, and conferring quietly together, probably trying to figure out what was wrong with me. All of the other teachers had disappeared one by one with no explanation leaving me to my solitary confusion. “I should just leave,” I thought. “I have no idea why I’m here or what I’m waiting for.” A few moments passed. “I can’t leave,” I thought. “I have to be here in case someone comes back, or in case someone with fluent English happens by and explains exactly why I’m here and when the rice will be delivered.” It was a real Waiting for Godot situation. With rice.

So it went for an hour and a half. Just as I was truly beginning to give up hope, and to succumb to the pangs of hunger and exhaustion, guess who ambled by. Juma! He had just gotten out of mosque, which happened to be right down the road, and he laughed as he saw me sitting there dejectedly. I explained the situation, and he laughed again. What a guy. With a few leaping bounds, he was inside the duka talking to the proprietor, who had remained unseen during my residence on the steps, and he stepped back out a few moments later. Two teenagers followed with large sacks of rice on their shoulders. What was this madness? Was there a secret password I didn’t know? A hidden back storeroom that housed the good rice that wasn’t for public consumption? Had we negotiated the deal to end of all deals and gotten away with one? Clearly, the rice had been there all along, and no one had told the duka guy why I was loitering on his property. He probably just thought I was lost, or tired, or maybe that I particularly enjoyed the view and wanted to pass an hour enjoying quiet contemplation. (It’s not uncommon for Tanzanians to sit down for an hour or two and chat, especially when they are supposed to be en route to perform a very important errand. They will tell you, if you ask, that they are “going there now” and the task is “almost done.” There is no real sense of urgency in any situation. It’s both maddening if you need something done and freeing if you use it to your own advantage.) Juma, laughing once again, thanked the kids with the rice, who stacked the bags neatly at the side of the road next to my feet and disappeared again. Now what, Juma? I thought. What’s next, Mr. Answer Man? “Oh, we will need transport,” he said, as his phone rang and he turned to answer it. “Yes,” I thought. “We will.” Another half-hour passed as I sat there, unable to do anything to bring about a solution to the problems I faced. Powerless. (Even when I had electricity, I was often powerless.) Instead of being able to take swift action, or even inquire of someone what my options were in a given circumstance, I was helpless. Like a tree battered by raging winds, like a paper boat on a violent river, I followed the direction that fate pushed me. This is a particularly frustrating feeling for someone of American habits in which almost every situation can be navigated by asking the right questions, or finding someone who knows the information you need. Think about it: help is all around us, all the time. Warning signs, instructional videos, experts on TV, infomercials. Every product you buy, including shampoo, aluminum foil, and potato chips, comes with a set of warnings, instructions, explanations, a web address, and a phone number to call in case of questions about the use of the product. I can’t think of a single earthly reason why I would need to call someone to acquire assistance to consume potato chips, but I sleep better at night knowing that the option exists. I know I will never find myself sitting by the side of the road, paralyzed by uncertainty about what to do with my bag of Lay’s, and for that I am thankful. At this moment, sitting in the hot afternoon sun as motorbikes kicked up dust and people started to look concernedly in my direction, I dreamt of the aisle in Wegmans in which clean, prepackaged rice without rocks or dirt existed in large quantities. Then I dreamt of the ease of carrying a bag to the checkout line, paying, and leaving, a transaction that caused no hassles, doubts, or existential questions. Soon, Juma returned. Again, he laughed. Not at me, I don’t think, but the amusing situation, and the joy of being alive on a Friday afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to sink below the dark horizon, in a beautiful town in a beautiful country. He was a pretty happy guy. He shouted across the street to a guy who had been lazing under an awning, who immediately shot up, hopped on his motorcycle, and skidded loudly over to us. Juma motioned to the bags and told him to bring them to Nawenge. The guy stacked them on the back of the motorcycle, tied them down with a length of cracked rubber cord, and took off like a demon up the road, honking at women and children in his path. “Now there’s a sense of urgency,” I thought, as Juma helped me to my feet. We walked back through town and headed home.

#Tanzania #This Is Not a Safari #Rice #Volunteer #ESL #ESL Teacher #TEFL #TEFL teacher #Mahenge #WorldTeach #travel writer #travel writing #travel blog #thisisnotasafari

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itsworn · 7 years

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Watch as We Put the Finishing Touches on our Racing Roadster 1929 Ford Model A Project on its Way to TROG

It’s Alive!

After several months of toiling over our engine, chassis, and body mods, the Racing Roadster ’29 Model A is looking like the hot rod we envisioned months ago when we started this buildup. It’s an adventure that will take us to the sands of Wildwood, New Jersey, and a berth in the hallowed Race of Gentlemen.

Our final assembly installment for Deluxe is only the beginning of a new lease on life for this hopped-up Ford. We hope its metamorphosis will be the start of a journey for years to come for both man and machine. Looking past TROG, we see this hot rod making several other high-profile events in the near future. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves; we have a hot rod to button up and get on the road.

TJ O’Grady of Throttle Jockey Originals has been on this ride since day one, upgrading the stock banger motor with the mods it needed to be a contender on the sand (“Starting Out With a Bang-er,” July 2017); taking our stock rebuilt chassis to new levels and rebuilding the suspension with several performance-oriented modifications (“A Class-A Chassis,” Sept. 2017); and massaging the roadster body to move through the air better and to get the stance that makes this car look like it’s speeding while standing still (“Body Building,” Nov. 2017).

So now watch as TJ puts the final touches on our roadster. It’s been a long road, but we’ve carried the load and can see the next step in this passage just up ahead.

This is where we stand. The body is structurally together and painted, and now we have to put on the finishing touches to get her on all four wheels and ready to hit the sand.

To power this little Blue Oval drop top, we decided to upgrade the roadster’s electrical system to 12 volts. After installing the battery box, TJ drops in a battery.

Original Model As used a gravity-feed system to get fuel to the engine. We decided to upgrade by adding this Carter 12-volt fuel pump under the floorboards. This will guarantee proper fuel delivery to the carburetor and keep our potent banger happy and well fed.

TJ went with an original fuel cutoff switch under the dash. It’s a necessity that we couldn’t do without.

On an original Model A, there would be a fuel bowl here to filter the gas before it’s delivered to the carburetor. This can reduce gas flow to the carb. To bypass any problems, the fuel now passes down to the hidden fuel pump and inline fuel filter. Using a 3/8-inch line will ensure proper fuel feed.

We see our downdraft Stromberg carb plumbed for fuel (with copper lines) and sporting throttle linkage that TJ designed. Later on, we will change out our air filter for a different style.

When it comes to the electrical connections, TJ removes the colored shrink tube from modern terminals to make them look more period correct.

Here you can see the connectors in use on our new 12-volt Powermaster PowerGen alternator. The connections look the way they should on a vintage hot rod. These modified pieces do not affect their performance in any way.

TJ has taken great care to make sure the engine bay not only performs the way it should, but also looks like a true period-correct hot rod.

More added touches to our banger setup: A ballast resistor was needed to work with our newly revamped electrical system.

TJ hooks up our coil to finish wiring the banger. Check out the period-perfect cloth wires he sourced for the job. These are the kinds of details that really make our roadster stand out in the crowd.

Throttle Jockey added some more precautions when it came to the fuel system. TJ installed a fuel pump on/off switch to control the flow of fuel to the banger. A resettable circuit breaker is attached to the bottom of the dash in the background. The attached gauge keeps tabs on the engine temps.

TJ installs the dual-gauge housing to the bottom of the original dash cluster. This will keep it in view, but out of the way of our Second-gear shift.

Next up, we look to more safety features. TJ installs the vintage, military-styled seatbelts we scored online. They were not only visually in tune with our build, but also built well and easy to install.

Since we are not using the original rumble seat and will convert the area to a trunk, we installed some plywood for a trunk floor. You can see we had to cut out an opening for the rear crossmember and spring setup due to our Z’d frame out back.

Because we used Brookville quarter-panels and other body parts, TJ had to install the correct pin kit to mount our original Henry Ford steel trunk lid.

Mounting the lid was a snap once the kit was installed. From here, TJ will mount the handle hardware.

We decided to make one door fixed since we were going to drape the upswept exhaust along the side of the car. TJ adds a flange connecting the door to the quarter-panel to render it immovable. He could have welded it shut but decided to not make it permanent, just in case we decided to change up the car in the future.

TJ installs the handmade hood sides to the roadster. They were designed and made out of sheetmetal and then louvered by TJ.

One more safety check here before we make this ride road ready. We bought this chassis under the assumption that all the brakes had been gone through and rebuilt. TJ prepares to check out each brake to make sure it is ready to roll…and stop!

After opening them up, we could see that the brake unit is totally fresh. A quick inspection and TJ finds the rebuild is up to snuff. Once we get this ride on the road, TJ will be able to adjust the brakes properly.

TJ picked these wire wheels for the Model A after deciding my steel wheels were not what he was looking for. He went with 17-inch front and 18-inch rear original Ford-issue wire wheels. Coker sent the repop Firestone rubber for these rims, and we used 5.50×17 fronts and 7.00×18 meats out back.

We sourced a reproduction Edmunds air cleaner setup to top our Stromberg. But before adding it to the carb, TJ first modified the air cleaner with some black silicone adhesive sealant.

TJ glued the filter to the base to keep sand from entering the engine through the carb. It’s pretty nasty at times out there on the beach, so we took precautions to protect our banger. Since ours is a fresh build, we definitely want to keep it out of harm’s way.

Now for the body’s finishing touches. Nineteen-year-old Anthony DiLiberto is a schooled graphic designer and pinstriper, having learned from some of the best East Coast stripers, including renowned artist Alan Johnson. TJ supports the young talent in the area and has called on Anthony to work on several of his custom rides over the years. Here, Anthony sketches our magazine’s logo, which will be placed on the lower rocker.

Once he’s happy with his design, he transfers the rendering to the body. From there, he will “man the brush” and fill it in with his one-shot enamel paints.

TJ has put his company name on the hoods of many of his rides. This one will be no different. After mixing a nice, dark red hue to complement the pea-green paint, Anthony lays down the lettering with precision.

Things got tricky when Anthony had to design over the beads that TJ placed in the hood. No matter the obstacle, the young pinstriper came through with a perfect rendering of the Throttle Jockey logo. From here, we will let the paint set up and get her loaded for her big trial run at the Jalopy Showdown in Pennsylvania.

From that event, it’s on to the sands of Wildwood, New Jersey, and The Race of Gentlemen. Stay tuned to the next issue to see how we did!

Sources

Brookville Roadster 937/833-4605 brookvilleroadster.com

Coker Tire 866/516-3125 cokertire.com

Anthony DiLiberto [email protected] Instagram: @pinstriping_by_ad

The post Watch as We Put the Finishing Touches on our Racing Roadster 1929 Ford Model A Project on its Way to TROG appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/watch-put-finishing-touches-racing-roadster-1929-ford-model-project-way-trog/ via IFTTT

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hitman 2 silent assassin pc

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hitman 2 silent assassin pc

Hitman 2: Silent Assassin cheats & more for PC (PC)

Cheats

Unlockables

Hints

Easter Eggs

Glitches

Guides

Achievements

Get the updated and latest Hitman 2: Silent Assassin cheats, unlockables, codes, hints, Easter eggs, glitches, tricks, tips, hacks, downloads, achievements, guides, FAQs, walkthroughs, and more for PC (PC). AllCheatsCodes.com has all the codes you need to win every game you play!

Use the links above or scroll down to see all the PC cheats we have available for Hitman 2: Silent Assassin.

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Genre: Shooter, First-Person Shooter Developer: IO Interactive Publisher: Eidos Interactive ESRB Rating: Mature Release Date: October 15, 2002

Hints

Tracking Hayamoto

In this mission, you would have to kill the chef inside, but you would make progress swiftly if you pace yourself. First, wait for those 2 guys around the stone to turn back. Walk carefully and the guard near the door will also go inside. Then, kill the guard at the right side of the map, change clothes, and hide the body at the right bottom corner on the map. You should probably save now. Walk along the right wall, and kill another guard you see. Move the body behind the stone.The point here is if you are trying to kill the chef by waiting at the near corner, the chef will never come out. Wait behind the stone until the chef comes out and kill him, and do the rest by yourself.

More Ammunition

If you are near a stack of ammunition but are notified by the game that you cannot pick it up, use the following trick to get almost twice as much normal ammunition. For example, if you have a shotgun with full ammunition and are next to a pile of shotgun ammunition, fire one shot, reload, then pick up the ammunition. You will now have almost double the ammunition.

Getting The M4 (M16)

On the motorcade level, you need to clear the town quickly and grab the supplied rifle. Shoot your target. This will cause the UN guards to stop and run on foot to your position. Wait until they get through the gates, then dodge their shots and put them in the cross fire from the remaining troops outside. Since you cannot hurt them, do not shoot. They will soon shoot their own men. Then, just run up and grab an M4. This may not be easy, but it does work. To get the M4 easier, just use the fiber wire on the UN guards.

Getting The .22SD Pistol

The .22SD is well hidden in the castle level where you have to kill Hayamoto senior. It is one of the items that is displayed in his museum. The .22SD does not trigger metal detectors. It is useful in the Basement Killing level.

Holstered Uzi

When holding the Uzi, take out the Ballers. The Uzi will be fully holstered, like a pistol.

Gun Collection

Throughout all the levels you will run into many different types of guns. Whenever you see a gun that you do not already have, pick it up. After you complete the level on which you found the gun, the gun will now be available at your house. You will have ammunition in the room for you to use if desired. However, there are many guns that are too big to carry inside your clothes and therefore must be held in the open. You will not be able to pick up a gun of the same size or greater without dropping the one you are holding. You will find other guns on the same level that you cannot pick up because you are already holding one, and the gun you want is simply too big to conceal. In this case, you will have to decide which gun you want more then finish the level with it. You can always replay that level to get the other gun that was left behind.

Walk Faster

While walking, rapidly tap [Run]. If done correctly, you will be still in a walking position, but doing quick dashes and the guards will not notice.

Animals

When at your home area with the shed of guns, you may shoot down the birds either on the ground or while they fly in the air. Each bird that is shot will fall to its corresponding area and remain there until you leave the level. You can also shoot the pigs in their pen.

Invitation To A Party: Getting The Sniper Rifle

If you want to pick up the Sniper Rifle and the suitcase at the same time, holster any weapons you may be carrying and pick up the suitcase. It should be in your left hand. Then, pick up the rifle and you will drop the suitcase on the ground. Take out you 9mm SD and the rifle should go into your left hand. Holster you 9mm SD, then pick up the suitcase. You now have the suitcase in your left hand, and have shifted the rifle to your right. You can even use the rifle with one hand.

Motorcade: Easy Silent Assassin Rank

Walk over to get the sniper rifle that the agency dropped off for you. There is a building across from here that has stairs that only go up one story. Make sure you do not get spotted with the rifle in your hand and make you way to those steps, but do not go up them. Use them to hide behind. Set your aim to where you are still behind the stairs and have the last bit of road that the limousine will get to before entering the castle gates in view. This should leave you with a good shot at your target. Once you have scored the shot, drop the rifle and walk calmly to the exit. It may take a few attempts to hit the target. Note: Kneeling helps.

Kirov Park Meeting: Easy Silent Assassin Rank

Note: This is the easiest level to complete with a “Silent Assassin” rank. You will need the crossbow from the hidden valley at the Gates And Shogun Showdown level. Start by running to the dumpsters directly in front of you. Hide behind the box so that the patrolling guard does not see you. When he goes back behind the wall, run and get the car bomb. Then, run down the sewer that is visible when you run from your boat. Keep going to the left of the wall and you will eventually get to a turning. Go down here and you find a ladder that leads to the underside of the car. Place the bomb then climb down. Go to the ladder that is nearest to the radio tower and climb out. There will be a guard that will stay at the door of the tower for a long time. Go behind the wall. As soon as he goes past the wall, run up and pick the lock. Then, run to the right of the radio tower. Do not go up the ladder. Instead, hide as far behind the tower as you can. Wait for awhile until the guard goes behind the wall again then climb up the ladder. Save the game at this point. Look through the scope and you should see the two targets walking around the park. Do not shoot them the first time you see them. Wait until they come back and take out the man in the brown. Save the game at this point. Wait until the “Objective Updated” message appears then check which way the guard down at the bottom is facing. Drop the crossbow and go down the ladder. Run to the place that you hid at previously. He should return to his patrolling. When he goes behind the wall that you waited for him to go behind before, run out the door and to the manhole. Then, run back to the manhole you started from in the sewers and check where the nearest guard is located. Climb out and run to your boat. The anesthetic and custom rifle are recommended. Otherwise, you will be using the sniper rifle you will get at the pick up. When you start the level, wait for the limousine to pass by you without getting spotted. Check your map and make sure the guard is not heading towards the dumpsters where the weapon drop is located. Once the guard is walking the other way, run toward the dumpster and get your weapons. If you do not have the custom rifle, get the sniper rifle that was assigned for the mission. As soon as you get all your weapons, run to the street and go down the manhole. Once in the sewers, run all the way to the manhole next to the one you climbed down. If you check your map, it is located all the way to the left. Once you climb it, you be under the General’s limousine. Set the car bomb and climb down. Open your map. You have to go to second man hole from your left . When you go up, you should be near the water tower. As soon as you are up on the streets again, run towards the building that is closer to the water tower. Stay on the side of the street, not the alleyway. Hide from the guard but make sure you can still see what he is doing. Save the game at this point. Once the guard is walking beside the water tower (away from the streets), run to the door, pick the lock, and run besides the water tower (on the side the guard is not on). Hide as close to the wall as possible near the corner, drop the sniper rifle, then take out your anesthetic and have it ready. Get ready be ready to walk silently when the guard is near. The guard will pass right next to you, walking toward the street. When he passes by you, start walking towards him. As soon as he stops, use all your anesthetic on him. Take his clothes, run and get your sniper riffle then climb the water tower. As soon as you are ready to shoot, save the game. Aim towards the park and shoot the Mafia leader. He will be wearing a brown outfit. If the Mafia leader cannot be seen because the General is in the way, take the shot at the General. It will go through and you will take out two men down with one shot. If you just shoot the Mafia leader, the General will run towards his limousine, which will explode with the car bomb you set. Go down the tower and run towards the manhole you came out from. Climb down and run toward the very first man hole you climbed down from (the one near the weapon pick up). Then, run toward your boat. Get the two car bombs from behind the dumpster (and do not get spotted by the guard). Go into the sewers and go left. Go to the ladder that comes up under the limousine. You can tell which one is correct by comparing the sewer and street maps. Go up the ladder. You will see the bottom of the car. Place a bomb. Go back down the ladder and move to the far side of the sewer. Check your map for the manhole that exits behind the building by the Mafia man’s limousine. Go up that ladder and wait for the limousine driver to urinate behind the building. When he does so, sneak up on him and use the anesthetic. Take his uniform. You may want to save the game at this point. Walk up to the limousine and place the other bomb. If the guards start shooting at you, just reload from behind the building. Once the bomb is placed, walk back to the boat. Both men will try to leave and blow up in their cars. You will not have alerted anyone or fired a single shot.

Anathema: Easy Silent Assassin Rank

At the start, wait for the guard at the side door of the gates to urinate then sneak in. Run straight to the cellar steps then sneak up to the kitchen. Save the game at this point. Check your map and wait for the Don to enter his bedroom. When he does, the guard outside his room should leave and go to another room. Quickly get up there. You can take the Don out with the silenced 9mm. Aim at his head. Take his keys and jump off the balcony to the yard. Save the game at this point. Hurry to the pool and wait until the coast is clear. Next, enter the side door to the house and run to the kitchen. Sneak down to the basement, making sure that the cook does not see you. Go to the only room in the basement where 47 will say that Victorio is not there. From here, check your map and wait until the guard urinates again. Then, run to the tool shed/car garage. Once there, get the sniper rifle. Wait until he is done urinating and leaves to chat with his the guard at the kitchen steps. Run out the door and make for a clean get away through the front gates where you first saw the postman enter.You begin this level with a 9mm Pistol SD, Fiber Wire, Anesthetic and the Ballers. When you start, ignore the mail man and just go to the side door. Stand outside, but to the right of the door so the guard that comes out does not spot you. When he goes out, he will take urinate. Get under stealth and sneak up to him slowly and quietly. Use the Anesthetic on him. Take his clothing and hand gun. Equip your 9mm SD and put it in your holster. Get the body and drag it just inside the door, or the guard that walks outside will spot him. You have to make sure that no one is alerted or killed besides the target throughout this entire level. Once you drop the body, walk casually all the way to the back of the yard (on the right side of the house). Avoid getting too close to the guards because they might shoot you. As you reach the back of the yard, open your map and see where the Don and driver are located. If they are walking towards the back to urinate, run in quickly, take a left as you walk in the door, and climb the ladder without getting spotted. As soon as you get on the roof, run to the office and enter the first door you encounter. The Don will now enter the house and be on his way to the office. Pull out your silenced 9mm pistol. Walk to the other exit of the office, which is directly across from the door you entered. Open the door, go out slightly, and do a 180 turn so that you are facing the office. This is done so that there is less of a chance that the Don will spot you when he walks in. Get a good shot and take him out with one head shot. Once he walks in, he will not spot you and will walk to his desk. Aim for the head and shoot. Make sure that you shoot with the silenced 9mm pistol so you will not be detected. Walk up to his body and pick up the revolver and room key. Drag the body to the door you entered from. Put your hand gun in your holster. Save the game at this point. You must exit that room, but the guards will almost always see right through you. Walk through the left door (as if you were looking towards the front of the house) and walk casually. The guard just outside will be extremely cautious and the meter will be flashing red. Do not panic. Just keep walking and take a left. If he shoots, pause game play then load from your previous save and try again. When you take that left, go through the door to your right. You will be able to pick up some ammunition in that room, but you will not really need it as you cannot shoot anyone to get the Silent Assassin rank. As soon as you enter that that room, there will be another door that will be on your left that leads to the kitchen. Check your map and make sure that no guard is there. If there is only a green circle in your map, it is the cook and she will not be alarmed. Run down the stairs quickly, walk in the kitchen, and walk towards the basement stairs. From there, you can run to the door where your main objective is located. Once you open the door, you will find no one and walk out the other door (left of the door you just opened). Save the game at this point. Once you climb up those steps, you will be in the main yard again. You have to exit through the door you came in through. The guard should still be knocked out. There will be two guards in front of the house looking around. Try and walk closer to the wall to decrease the chances of being spotted. Run as fast as you can through the door and main exit and you will get a Silent Assassin rank. If you get a message that the guards are alarmed, start over from your last save point. If they call you and are close and chase you. they will see the knocked out guard which will alarm them and you will have to start from the last save point. If you take too long, the mail man will deliver the flowers, the maid will go to the Don’s office and see that he is dead which will also fail the Silent Assassin rank. If you have a sniper rifle that you can start with, use it. If not, when you start all you need is the anesthetic. From the hill you begin at, run down at a right diagonal. You should be next to a door with a guard inside. He will exit and start to urinate. When he does, use the entire bottle of anesthetic on him. Take his clothes and gun and walk inside the door. Next, walk over to the back garage door entrance. Go in and get the sniper rifle. Walk back to the hill you started at. If you look in your scope, you will see the Don playing golf on his deck. Snipe him. Drop the rifle and run back to the door. Then, walk over to where to Don is located. Pick up the key and walk to the other side of the house, down into the cellar. Open the door, walk in the room, and immediately walk back out. Walk out of the cellar and out the door you came in. If the coast is clear, run to the exit and you are done.Go down to the side door and hide just to the right of the door. In a minute, a thug will come out to urinate. When he does, sneak in the door behind him (use stealth mode). Run to the basement stairs, wait until the grocery boy starts to go up the stairs, then run after him. When you get to the stairs, enter stealth mode and use Anesthetic on the thug by the kitchen door. Then, run to the doorway that leads to the pool. Save the game at this point. Check your map to see when the two men leave to urinate. When they do so, use the ladder. When you reach the roof, go to the door facing the roof you are on. Once inside the office, go to the door directly across from the one that you are in. Stand in the doorway. Take out your 9mm SD (first person view recommended for better aiming). When the Don reaches his desk, shoot him in the head. Collect his room key, then drag him to the door where you first came in. Do not take him all the way outside. Save the game at this point. Check your map. When the two men by the pool go inside (this takes a while), drag the Don over the peak of the roof. When the guys go onto the balcony, they will not see him. Next, run to the edge of the roof and look to the right. You will see a little ledge that runs along the side of the building. Run along it until you are above the basement stairs. Drop down into them. Then, go into the room where Vittorio is supposed to be at. Diana will say here bit. Check your map. When the man by the side door where you first came in goes to chat with his friend at the kitchen stairs, run for the side door then on to the exit. You are now done with Silent Assassin rank. Note: If the thugs are alarmed at all, you will not get the ranking.Start out on the hill. If you have a sniper rifle, turn about 45 degrees to the right and zoom in with it. You should see a man that is the Don. You will notice him because he is swinging a golf club. Kill him, then go down the hill. Hide behind the trees and snipe the two guards at the gates. Go in and hide behind trees. Snipe all the men that you can see. Go towards the garage. Be careful as there are more men out here. Snipe them, then go to the door along the wall that leads to the pool. Climb the ladder there and kill that target. Drop your sniper rifle to a place where you will not forget it. Take a guard’s clothes and get a 9mm out. Take the key from the guard that you just killed. Go in the house, to the Don’s room. There is a small door leading to the outside where the don was located. Take what he has and follow the remainder of mission as instructed.Start by running to the door nearest to you. When the guard comes out to urinate, use the Anesthetic to knock him out and take his clothes (and gun if desired). Then, go inside. Go to the right until you reach the stairs to the basement, then go inside. Wait until only the cook is in the room above, then walk up the stairs and enter the door. Go through the door directly in front of you and close it once outside. There should be an opening to the left of the door. Walk through it, making sure you hug the wall. Once you reach the balcony of the Don’s office, walk to the door on the right. Sneak while opening the door. Shoot the Don with a silenced weapon, take the keys and whatever else, then walk through the ledge back. As you walk on the ledge, the door to the basement should be under you. Carefully drop, enter, do what you need to do, and simply walk out through your entry point to leave.As you start out, run down and stand out of sight on the opposite side of the small wall to the right of the door (that the one the man exits from to urinate). When he does, sneak up and strangle him with the Fiber Wire. Drag his body through the door and drop it on the other side. Take his clothes and gun. Go to the back of the garage and move north toward the villa house. Walk past the kitchen door and go north to a door with the pool area on the other side. Look at the map screen, and wait for two guards to walk to the northern field on the other side of the door. You may have to wait a while, but they will go there. You also may not see them at first, as they go inside. Once the guards stop in the field, go through the door and run left to the ladder leading to the roof. Climb it up and run across the roof. Then, go across a board to the balcony. Do not go through the door on the other side of the board. Instead, go around to the door on the other side of the balcony. Look through the keyhole and wait for the Don to walk into the room and stand facing in the other direction. If you see a message anytime before this point that states “The Don has been alarmed”, there will be a man packing a shotgun on the other side of the door. If this happens, restart the level and try to stay further away from all the guards. When the Don walks in the room, sneak up behind him and strangle him with the Fiber Wire. Take his keys and exit the room through the door in the northeast corner. Move east across the roof, turn right, and walk along the edging of the building for a bit. Drop down to the grass just in front of the stairs leading to the basement. If you land on the stairs, you will hurt yourself and perhaps die. Go down into the basement, open the first door to the right to release Vittorio. The room is empty. Diana tells you he was moved before you arrived. Exit the basement through the door you entered, then run to the door where the man whose clothes you stole is laying. If anyone sees you running and starts shooting, ignore them and keep running. If you fire back, you will not get a Silent Assassin rank. Exit the villa grounds through that door, then run to your right along the road through which the postman enters at the beginning. Exit to complete the mission.

Death Of Hannelore: Easy Silent Assassin Rank

When the level starts, immediately run to the brown boxes and wait for the guard to go up the little “hill”. Run towards the water and stay along it. Go into the sewer and look at your map. Find the way up the stairs. When you get there, do not go up the steps. There should be four walls that stick out. Find the one that is the darkest and go through it. Then, go up the ladder and head right into the room. Go left and keep running to the next room. The doctors will run, but just keep going. When you cannot go through any more doors, look on the bed and change into the clothes quickly. Go out the way you came from quickly and run. Some of the doors on your right have bathrooms. Find the one that does not have one. Walk out calmly and go to the supply room. Get the door key then go to where the lady you are supposed to kill. When you arrive, there should be two people sitting down. Wait for the nurse to get up and talk to you. Follow her up the stairs and she will take you to the lady in the green. Wait for the nurse to leave and the lady in the green goes to the window. While she is still talking, go up behind her and cut her throat or strangle her. After she dies, drag her out the door and watch out for any patients or innocents. Go straight across the circle so the guards do not see you. Go to the door on the right and put her inside. Walk out calmly and go back all the way you came from. When you reach the end of the sewer where you first entered, watch out for any guards that may be present. When it is clear, run to your motorboat, still in your doctor’s clothing.

Basement Killing: Easy Silent Assassin Rank

You need to bring Anesthetic. Once you have started the level, go into the men’s restroom. It is located on the left side of the map. If you look closely on the sign near the door, it should read “Gentlemen”. Once inside, wait in any stall except the last one until the delivery boy enters to urinate. While he is doing so, sneak up behind and use your Anesthetic. Take his clothes and drop all of your guns in a different stall. Keep your Fiber Wire. Then, go to the food court. Go to the window and wait for the delivery boy to give you a pizza. Once you have it, go to the elevator while staying as far away from the guards as much possible. Once you are down there, go to the second basement and pick the lock. Once you are down there, watch out for chips on the floor. The man at the computer will hear them. After you get past the chips, strangle the man with the Fiber Wire. Then, head back upstairs and return to the bathroom. Change your clothes and hide in the stall with your guns. You must hide because once you get back up, the delivery boy should be telling the guards about someone taking his clothes. Wait for the police to stop entering the bathroom. Once this happens, go into the place with your stash. Go into it and get the Smoke Bomb. Then, go to the laundry room and drop the bomb into the chute. Next, go outside the fire department and wait until all the fireman have exited. Because of the Smoke Bomb, the fire alarm should have gone off. When they are out, go in, change into the fireman outfit, and grab an ax. Then, run down the fire stairs and enter the office where the stairs are to get to your target. Once there, use the fire ax or the gun in the cabinet to destroy the computer. Once that is done, go into the elevator.

Ambush The Temple: Easy Silent Assassin Rank

Start the level by running into the city and move in a general direction to the left until you reach a building. On your map, this is the bottom right building with a silver icon. Go in there and a man will talk to you. After that, walk up behind him (there is no need to sneak), and use some Anesthetic on him. Take his clothes then get out of the building. Then, go to your map. Note: This is very hard to describe in detail because the position of the agent is different each time. Look for the small red weapon pick-up icon. Go in, and a man sitting at a chair will fire two shots in the air, but no one will be alerted. After the intermission sequence, look at your map and find the yellow icon that is stationary (another one will be moving). The stationary icon will be somewhere in one of the two main plaza areas. Wherever the stationary icon is, go into the storage thing under it, and go up the stairs. Sneak up on the man at the window and Fiber Wire him. Take his Sniper Rifle, and take out the other yellow icon. Then, take pictures of the two dead men. Take the pictures back to the agent, and follow your map to the exit.

Successfully complete five levels with a “Silent Assassin” rank to get the M4. Alternately, complete the Shogun Showdown level with a “Silent Assassin” rank.

Sawed-off Shotgun

Successfully complete a level with a “Silent Assassin” rank twice.

Silent Assassin Ranks

You can still get a “Silent Assassin” rank on a mission if you are spotted. To get a “Silent Assassin” rank, there has to be nothing in the aggression bar. You can make sure of this by only using chloroform on guards and eliminating the target with just one shot.

Silenced Ballers Gun

Successfully complete a level with a “Silent Assassin” rank.

Cheats

All Cheats

In your Hitman 2 directory folder, locate the hitman2.ini file and open it. Below the ‘EnableConsole’ line, add ‘EnableCheats 1’. While playing, turn on your CAPS LOCK and type:

IOIRULEZ God modeIOIGIVES All weapons and itemsIOIEQWEAP Full ammoIOIHITLEIF Max healthIOIER Bomb modeIOISLO Slow motion modeIOIHITALI Punch modeIOILEPOW Lethal charge modeIOIGRV Toggle gravityIOINGUN Nailgun modeIOIPOWER Mega force mode

Be Invisible

While playing a game , press the (~) button. Just press it. a small screen will appear. type INVISIBLE 1. This will make you invisible and nobody can see you or fire at you.

Teleport

Note: This procedure involves editing a game file; create a backup copy of the file before proceeding. Use a text editor to edit the “keyboard.cfg” file in the game folder. Locate the following group of text: Change the “K_NEXT” text to “K_”, where is an uppercase letter. Begin game play and change to third person view or use the sniper scope or binoculars. Press that key and 47 will teleport where the crosshairs are on flat solid ground.

Level Skip

Level Select

Note: This procedure involves editing a game file; create a backup copy of the file before proceeding. Use a text editor to edit the “hitman2.ini” file in the game folder. Locate the “DefaultScene=AllLevels/logos.gms” entry and change it to “DefaultScene=AllLevels/levelmenu.gms”. All levels will be marked as completed and a level selection menu will be unlocked.

God Mode And More

In your Hitman 2 directory folder, locate the hitman2.ini file and open it. Below the ‘EnableConsole’ line, add ‘EnableCheats 1’. While playing, turn on your CAPS LOCK and type:

IOIRULEZ - God ModeIOIGIVES - All Weapons and Max AmmoIOIPOWER - Megaforce Mode (enemies you shoot will go flying)

Unlockables

Currently we have no unlockables for Hitman 2: Silent Assassin yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Easter eggs

Currently we have no easter eggs for Hitman 2: Silent Assassin yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Glitches

Glitch: 47 Drives With A Weapon

In the level where you have to kill the Don, do all necessary objectives. Then, when you go to escape in the car, select a weapon and start shooting it. While shooting, press [Action], to open the door. 47 will drive with the weapon in his hands. Note: This was done in the demo version of the game.

Guides

Currently we have no guides or FAQs for Hitman 2: Silent Assassin yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Achievements

Currently we have no achievements or trophies for Hitman 2: Silent Assassin yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

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