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spookidema · 4 years

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Never Trust a Stranger

Day 2 of Spooki Month

Vampire!Park Seonghwa

Genre: Angst

Summary: You don't know how you were convinced to be at this club on Halloween but you wanted to be anywhere but here. Rumors of things that go bump in the night get more frequent during this time of year, and you wanted nothing more than not to be the dinner of a creature of the night, but we don't always get what we want.

Author Note: Welcome to post number 2 also known as Day 2 of Spooki Month. This one also was suposed to be posted yesterday but Tumblr deleted the writing in the draft. Hope you enjoy and again watch out for more coming up. Also the look Seonghwa is wearing is the outfit he wore on Weekly Idol. The episode where Yeosang exposed him, San, and Wooyoung.

Tag: @alwayschoosechocolate

You wanted nothing to do with the club you are currently in. Most people could tell by the way you stood at the bar instead of dancing with the group of old college friends, that convinced you to join them clubbing. Tell by the way you swirled the drink in your hand with disinterest. Clubs were never really your scene. You were more of a 'wine at home with a good movie' kind of person than a 'sweaty nightclub during October' kind of person.

"Come on, (Y/N)," Jisoo, one of your old college friends, begged. "Come dance with us."

"Jisoo, I'm fine here watching," you said smiling at the slightly drunk girl. "Go have fun."

"But you have been sitting here alone since we got here," Jisoo continued to beg." Who knows the next time we will all be together again."

"We have all night, Jisoo," you waved dismissively. "Go have fun, bud. Who knows? You might find someone to take home."

Jisoo rolled her eyes playfully before sauntering away back to the crowd in the middle of the dance floor.

Turning back to your drink at the bar, you were just about to take a sip of your drink as someone slipped beside you. You looked over to the person. It was a tall male. His black hair was swept back and to the side. He wore a simple white tshirt, black leather jacket, and black jeans with a simple silver necklace and a single hooped earring. His features were sharp and slightly intimidating. Just for a split second, you swore that his eyes flashed a crimson color but it could been a trick of the light.

"I wouldn't drink that if I was you," he said. His voice was velvety and deep. "Huh," all you said as you stared at him."

"Your drink," he continued slowly." I wouldn't drink it if I were you. I just saw someone put something in it while you were talking to your friend."

"Damn it," you growled pushing the drink away from you." Fucking hell, what's wrong with people?"

"They wanted an easy target, I'm guessing," the man shrugged leaning on the bar. "Taking a distracted woman and wait the 30 minutes just to try and swoop in to be the savior of the day to take advantage of the poor girl as they tried to 'help'."

"Sounds like you're familiar with this type of situation," you said with a raised eyebrow. "Play hero often?"

"Considering I have to keep the people of my club safe," he said with a smirk.

"Your club," interest laced your voice." You own this place?"

"My brother and I own this place," he replied." We barely come to this floor of this club."

"Well then," you nodded." Can I get the name of the mystery owner of this fine establishment?"

"Park Seonghwa," Seonghwa answered," can I have the name of the beautiful woman who I saved?"

"(Y/N)," you answered as well.

"Nice to meet you," Seonghwa said waving to the bartender.

AS the bartender approached, you started to feel like someone/someones was staring at you. You looked around and you saw seven pairs of eyes on you from the upstairs balcony. The shortest one was giving you a smirk making you tense up as Seonghwa tapped the side of your arm. When you looked toward Seonghwa, Seonghwa's eyes glowed slightly and you stared for a second before the glow died and the tension melted off.

"I had the bartender make you one of me and my brother's favorite drinks," Seonghwa said his eyes brown." It's really good."

"Oh really," you said looking into the glass he slid your way ." My momma always said never to take drinks from handsome strangers."

"Smart woman," he chuckled as his voice slipped slightly more velvety."Drink it." Without another word you drank the drink. It was fruit with a slight metallic taste. It lacked the usual alcohol taste, but never the last it was good.

"There you go,"Seonghwa smiled slightly."Now tell me about yourself."

And that you did.

You told him about how you a 22 year old AB- art major who lived with three cats and two cacti. How you were not really a people person never the less a club person. How you don't really talk to many people have from a couple of boys you worked with and a couple of their roommates. How you rarely speak to your family due to them not caring for the major you chose.

As you spilled your guts, time seemed to pass quickly.

Your friends would tap you every once in a while to tell you that they were leaving one by one with people that peaked their interest and you nodded to them to acknowledge them but you really didn't take your eyes off Seonghwa.

Once you finished, Seonghwa stared at you for a moment. You head spinning slightly making you sway on your feet for a second.

"You wanna get out of here," he asked tilting his head back slightly.

"And where would we go," you questioned raising one of your eyebrows.

"I have a couple of places in mind. You want to invite me to your apartment," he smirked and for some reason your body started to go into 'fight or flight' mode and running was what you wanted to do.

"I should really get home," you declined with a forced smile pushing from the bar.

"Let me walk you then," Seonghwa insisted as he paid for your tab from your earlier drinks."You were drinking and its late."

"No, that’s fine," you said glancing back to balcony again seeing the seven pairs of eyes still staring down at you."I don't live far. Thanks though."

"I don't like being refused,(Y/N)," his face set straight as you go to walk away,"Let me walk you home. Call it even for earlier."

"No,Seonghwa," you said glaring slightly."Look. Thanks for the save and the drink and conversation, but my answer is no. No, you can not walk me home."

AS you walked away, you could feel his eyes follow you and he seemed pissed.

Making your way home under the October harvest moon, you couldn't help to feel like Seonghwa's rage was following making you feel paranoid. You were looking behind you every now and then. Your apartment building was just in sights when you were pulled into an alleyway.A hand covered your month as you were slammed into the side of one of the buildings. Red glowing stared down at you.

"Tsk,tsk,(Y/N). You should have just let me take you home and we could have done this in the comforts of your home and not in a dirty alley."

Seonghwa. He followed you.

"You could have died in your warm home, but you had to be difficult," he shook his head sneering causing a sharp pearly tooth to be exposed." I hate it when my food doesn't listen."

'Vampire,' you thought gasping behind his hand. You tried to push him away. "Stop moving," he glowed out making your arms to drop involuntary to your sides and your body to go slack slightly."Much better. You know when you said you blood type was AB-, I almost drained you right there in the club. I love AB-. So so rare but so so sweet."

The chills of terror spread across your body. Ice filled your veins as Seonghwa licked his lips taking his hand away from your mouth to cradle your jaw tilting it to the side. Seonghwa chuckled lowly as he leaned into your neck breathing in deeply.

"This is going to hurt a lot," he said scraping one of his fangs down your neck."Do not scream."

Then he sank his teeth into your neck.

It felt like knives or needles were digging their way into every inch of your body draining you of all your blood. Felt like the heat of the sun was injected straight in your bloodstream. You wished you could scream but somehow Seonghwa made it where you couldn't. Your body completely went slack causing Seonghwa to hold your form. You were becoming weak as time passed. Spots swimming in you vision.

As Seonghwa unlatched himself from you neck, he let you fall onto the ground. You laid on the ground soundless your vision darkening as he knelt down brushing hair from your face.

"Shame to leave you dying in this alley,(Y/N)," he said smoothing down your hair."Alone without anyone knowing til its too late. Goodbye,(Y/N)."

He sunk into the darkness disappearing. You let out a string of wimpier as you were finally able to make sounds. You started saying your goodbyes in the darkness as your vision left you.

Muffled footsteps enter your ears as you faded.

"Hyung, she's dying," one voice said. "Help her."

"We have you, ....,"another voice said. "We won't let you die."

#park seonghwa fanfic #park seonghwa angst #ateez vampire au #ateez angst #might continue this one dont know yet #halloween #spookidema

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marveldeliversusps · 4 years

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Prompt: New Hobby

Thanks for the prompt and political advocacy, @queenoftherandomword! Hope you like it!

Prompt: Looks like somone has a new hobby

Pairing: Stucky, shrunkyclunks, background Sam/Nat

Rating: M

Art by @inflomora-art. I’m obsessed with this pic.

Steve heard a knock and rushed to the door. It was around three PM and his postal worker, Bucky, would be dropping off the mail soon. On days when he wasn’t too busy, Bucky would stick around and chat with Steve for a few minutes. Those were the best days.

Mailman Bucky was beyond hot. He had a cleft chin with a bit of softness under it, wrinkles from smiling and sparkling grey eyes. He was so beautiful he even made the dumb postal worker hat look good.

When Steve pulled the door open, he found Natasha standing there expectantly. He tried to close the door but she put her foot inside the house. He set his shoulder against the door so she could push her way in.

“Nice to see you, Steve.”

Steve took a steadying breath in. He loved Natasha and looked forward to being around her. Since he’d retired from the superhero business and given the shield to Sam, time with Nat had been in short supply. However, she was perceptive and insatiably curious. If she was around when Bucky arrived, she’d sniff out Steve’s secret crush right away. Or find the numerous unopened boxes in his bedroom that he didn’t want to explain.

“Natasha,” he said.

“That’s all?”

Steve held tight onto the door. A moment of confusion or indecision would be just enough for her to elbow her way inside. This is why he needed more non-spy friends.

“Nice to see you, as always.”

Natasha rolled her eyes so dramatically her eyelashes fluttered. “What you mean to say is I’m sorry that I stood you and Sam up for our lunch date at Hot Lips pizza today, and that you two had to wait for forty-five minutes, and I can’t believe I didn’t respond to your text messages.”

Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Nat.”

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said, brushing non-existent lint from Steve’s shoulder. “I know you have other commitments. Maybe we could hang out now?”

Steve did want to spend time with her, just not for another hour when there was no risk of her meeting Bucky. Since getting together, Sam and Natasha were both happier, more fluid and less locked into decades-long patterns, but it certainly made Steve’s life more difficult. Their attempts at teasing him or caretaking were coordinated and ruthless. Loving, but ruthless.

“Now’s not a good time,” Steve said. “How about Friday you and Sam come over for a movie night?”

Natasha smiled sweetly, all her deadly angles covered by softness. She squeezed Steve’s hand gently, then dug her fingers into his wrist, making him yelp and stumble backward. As soon as Steve faltered, she charged inside and started looking around the living room. When Steve subtly positioned himself between her and the stairs to his bedroom, Natasha clocked his actions immediately. She slipped past his outstretched hands and hustled upstairs.

“Goddammit, Nat!”

Once she entered Steve’s bedroom, Natasha stopped abruptly and looked at all the unopened boxes lining the walls. “Huh.”

Steve nearly slammed into her back in his rush to beat her to the bedroom and had to grab onto the doorframe to stop himself. Natasha tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“What were you expecting?” Steve said.

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. A hot man or woman. A sex dungeon. Porn. Not a million boxes from…” she picked one up and squinted at it. “REI? What the hell, Steve?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, not quite ready to tell the truth. The first package had been an actual order, a new pair of running shoes from an outdoor store he discovered. But then when Bucky had delivered them, REI (Recreation Equipment Inc) was apparently his favorite store, and it had given them something to chat about.

Steve had taken to buying gear from there once a week and planned his schedule to be home with the packages arrived, just so he could talk with Bucky. He’d even been working up the courage to suggest a hike together.

“I checked all the rooms downstairs,” Sam said out of nowhere.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. Of course, Sam and Natasha would be working together. They never went on ops alone anymore. Not since she was captured by AIM, and Sam leveled three blocks of downtown Mobile, Alabama to save her.

Steve should have never suggested Nat ask Sam out. Or introduced them. Or joined the Avengers.

“Nice to see you,” Steve quipped.

Sam winked at him, the cheeky asshole. He knew Steve couldn’t stay mad at him long. “Not my fault,” Sam said, as he walked into the room. “You ditched us. And if you had just told Tasha what you were hiding--”

“I can have secrets,” Steve said petulantly.

Meanwhile, Natasha was walking around the room and shaking boxes. They all had the REI logo on the side: Sustainable Gear Built to Last. She retrieved a knife from her boot, ripped open a box and pulled out a 9.8mm Dry-Core climbing rope. It was bright yellow with red x’s on it, and Steve had picked it because he liked the design. “Is this for an outside sex dungeon?”

“Stop thinking everything is about sex!” Steve snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve immediately felt bad. Before he could apologize to Natasha, she waived him off. Sam sat down on Steve’s bed and pulled out his own knife. He never used to have a million knives on him, probably Natasha’s influence.

“Do people know Captain America sneaks into people’s houses with knives?” Steve said.

Sam shrugged and carefully opened a package. “People don’t know a damn thing about me I don’t want them to know, because my girlfriend is a badass.”

A paranoid badass, Steve thought. But he had the self-preservation to keep that to himself.

Sam pulled out a Lavender Harness with yellow daisies stitched to the side. “Petzl Luna Harness,” he read off the side. “Steve, this is a woman’s harness.”

Steve crossed his arms, because he had aced his Women’s Studies class, thank you very much. “All the harnesses for women were pink and had flowers on them, and I thought that was very gender essentialist of them, so I bought it for myself in protest.”

“I’m sure they heard you loud and clear,” Sam said dryly.

They slowly unpacked all of Steve’s packages: another harness, two more ropes, a crash pad, carabiners, and several metal things Steve didn’t know the name of. After each item, Natasha looked at Steve expectantly, and he steadily denied that it was for a sex dungeon.

Next came a Marmot 1 person tent, that Steve would have to curl up in sideways to fit, a backpack, and a head lamp. He had more things he needed, but he wanted to spread the orders out.

“Why didn’t you open any of this stuff?” Sam said.

Exhausted with their questions, Steve flopped dramatically onto the floor, and he didn’t need to look up to know Sam and Natasha were doing synchronized eye rolls. “I don’t know how to use it yet!” Most of it he’d selected because he liked the colors or the philosophy of the companies. He had no idea if all the gear even all worked together. “It’s outdoor gear because my mailman likes to rock climb, and he’s hot, and I want to climb him like a tree.”

Natasha grinned triumphantly, and proclaimed, “So this is about sex!”

Steve didn’t respond, just slowly banged his head on the floor. Maybe if he blacked out they would leave him alone.

“Well, well,” Sam said.

“Don’t do that,” Steve snapped.

“Looks like someone has a new hobby.”

Natasha leaned against Sam and giggled. It was so damn cute that Steve couldn’t decide if he wanted to wrap them in Christmas paper or throw them outside.

He almost missed the knock at the door.

“Steve,” Bucky called in. “Your door was left open. Just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Steve shot an annoyed look at Sam who grinned unrepentantly. “Barton’s watching the entrance.” Steve should've guessed that, too. He half expected them to turn into a throuple any day now.

Natasha ignored them again, moving lightning fast to charge downstairs.

“Steve,” Bucky called again. “Hi,” he said, presumably when he saw Natasha. “Just checking in. I have a package for Steve.”

“I’m sure you do,” Natasha said meaningfully as she took the box from Bucky.

Steve made a racket in his haste to prevent Natasha from saying anything more embarrassing and landed at the door framing breathing heavily with a wild look in his eyes. Natasha, naturally, looked calm and composed.

“You must be Bucky,” Natasha said, extending her dainty hand. “Steve can’t stop talking about you.”

Steve’s cheeks immediately flamed hot, and the only saving grace was that Bucky’s cheeks pinked up adorably, too.

“Oh.” Bucky didn't elaborate further even though Steve really, really wanted him to. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? An oh or an /oh/?

Before Steve could follow up, Sam came up behind him and clapped an arm on his shoulder.

“Captain America!” Bucky exclaimed when he saw Sam. Oh no, no no no no, Steve thought. “You’re my hero! I mean, I’m an adult so not like hero hero, but it’s. Whew. It’s an honor.”

Sam grinned that warm, gap toothed smile that made old ladies weak in the knees, and he shook Bucky’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Did you serve?”

Bucky nodded, shrugging his shoulders shyly. “Yeah, two tours and all that, and you know, the post office is the number one employer of vets, so I’m here doing this. Helps to have the arm.” He pointed at his black and gold prosthetic. Thanks for promoting that program by the way.”

Steve didn’t pout, but his inner toddler was stamping his foot. He only got a few minutes to talk to Bucky each week, and Sam was hogging all his time.

Natasha had magicked some popcorn out of nowhere, there hadn’t been any in Steve’s cupboard, and was obnoxiously monching it and watching the three of them. Knowing her, she’d probably known all of this was going to happen and brought the popcorn along as a prop.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky said to Sam, “but could I get a picture?”

Sam nodded, turning to Steve with a shit eating grin. “Steve, would you mind taking a pic of us?”

Steve took Bucky’s camera. He stepped on Sam’s foot while he arranged them for the photo, because he had called dibs on Bucky, and Sam already had Natasha. “You know . . . I’ve been retired for a while.” Because if Sam could play the Captain America card, so could he. Bucky had never brought it up, so perhaps he hadn’t recognized him.

Bucky smiled softly. “I know, Steve.”

Oh, well. That was a different thing entirely. Bucky had known who Steve was all along and had never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Steve smiled back at him and took the picture.

Once they were done, Natasha leaned toward Bucky. “Tell me, Bucky, how long have you and Steve been getting to know one another.”

Steve was 100% sure that was her code for sex dungeon activities, which, what in the hell did she and Sam get up to in their free time? Nevermind, he didn’t want to know.

They didn’t call Steve the greatest strategist of his time for nothing. He subtly scooted over, forcing Natasha to lean back.

“We’ve only recently become friends,” Steve said. The blood rushed to his cheeks again when he realized what he’d said. Bucky probably had to be friendly with everyone while he was working, that didn’t mean he and Steve were friends. “I mean, I think we are.”

The sides of Bucky’s eyes crinkled adorably as he grinned. “Yeah, we’re friends, Steve.” He paused and glanced at Sam and Natasha before settling back on Steve. “Actually,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, making his terrible round hat fall forward. He righted it quickly and said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go climbing this Saturday. I could show you the cool spots with not too many people, and--”

“Steve doesn’t know how to climb,” Natasha said around another mouthful of popcorn. “You should take me and Sam along to teach him. And Clint, too. Maybe Tony would want to come.”

By the grace of all that was good and holy, Sam had mercy and pulled Natasha away from the door whispering, “Stop cockblocking my best friend.”

Once Nat and Sam were out of earshot, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and grimaced. “I was looking for new hobbies, and when I ordered shoes you brought up climbing, and like an idiot I said I liked it too. because you are so handsome, and my brain turned into mush, and then I just didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said interrupting Steve’s rambling. His eyes sparkled as he grinned. “You once called a grigri a carabiner.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Exactly.” Bucky stepped closer, his expression turning mischievous. Steve could never, ever let him and Natasha become friends. “Wanna go on a date with me?” He was so close now, Steve could pick out the flecks of silver and black in his grey eyes.

Steve got lost staring until he realized Bucky had been waiting too long for a response. He didn’t seem to mind, his smile only getting wider.

“I really do want to learn to rock climb,” Steve blurted out to stop himself from saying something ridiculous like, please fuck me in your uniform.

Bucky tilted his chin back and laughed, mesmerizing Steve with the movement of his throat.

“How about we do both?” Bucky said, laughter dying down as he scooted closer.

Steve leaned down and said, “I’d like that,” against Bucky’s lips, the moment before they kissed. Distantly, he heard the sounds of Natasha and Sam cheering, but he blocked them out in favor of gripping Bucky’s hip and pulling their bodies flush against one another.

“The man has to work,” Sam called out. “Don’t get freaky and delay the mail.”

Bucky pulled back and patted Steve’s shoulder. “See you soon, Stevie.”

After he left, Steve collapsed on the couch next to Sam, heady with the experience, until a sudden realization left him cold.

“I forgot to get his number.”

Sam waved him off, and pointed at the kitchen where Nat was rifling through Steve’s cabinets. “Don’t worry. Tasha has it already.”

Steve groaned. Of course she did. And if by some chance she didn’t, Steve could always order another box from REI.

---

Learn more about Marvel Delivers USPS here!

#Marvel Delivers USPS #shrunkyclunks #fanart #ficlet #Stucky #bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers

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metalbatandzenko · 4 years

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Grief and Other Intangibles

Based off of this very sad but somewhat goofy scenario from @opmheadcanons.

AO3

This was supposed to be a ficlet. It’s over 5k words.

Oops.

Anyways, heads up for major character death.

---

Zombieman turned around just in time to see it happen.

The second that the cybernetic spider legs stored in Child Emperor’s backpack found their mark, the monster’s talons found theirs.

The boy’s eyes widened in shock, and he looked down at the talon protruding from his chest, at the rapidly spreading red stain. He looked up, making eye contact with Zombieman.

He looked so young.

The monster let out a death screech, rearing up. The hand holding Child Emperor flailed out.

Zombieman could only watch as the boy hit a nearby building with enough force to crack the cement.

Child Emperor crumpled, and did not rise again.

He might just be knocked out, part of his mind tried to reason with him. But he knew.

Zombieman had been dead once. He’d been in positions where he should have been dead countless times since then.

The kid wasn’t coming back.

The acknowledgement sent a chill through his already cold body, radiating from his empty chest all the way to his toes.

He turned to the remaining monsters.

The hero’s almanac said he liked killings that created a river of blood.

He was about to prove it right.

---

The rest of the fight was brief and brutal.

The moment the last monster fell, he dropped his axe and sprinted towards Child Emperor’s unmoving body, not bothering to look back.

He’d known before that his kid was gone.

But seeing it, seeing the trail of dried blood leaking from his mouth and ear, feeling how cold, and limp, and small he felt when Zombieman picked him up…

Zombieman had been dead once. He’d been in positions where he should have been dead countless times since then.

But that didn’t mean he was prepared for this.

He’d long since lost the ability to cry. Whatever the mad scientist had done to him had messed with that.

But as he cradled Child Emperor’s corpse to his chest, a tremor shook his body.

He cried, even as tears refused to fall from his dried up tear ducts.

His sobs were low, guttural, pulled from somewhere primal, somewhere low in his belly where grief and bile were stored.

With a shaking hand, he tapped his earpiece.

“This is Zombieman. The threat in City F has been neutralized.” He swallowed.

How would he say this? How could he sum up what had been lost?

The words tumbled from his lips.

“But they got Child Emperor.”

Got.

He wasn’t ready to use the stronger word.

---

When the Hero Association representatives made it to City F, they found Zombieman holding the boy’s head to his shoulder, as if by hugging him tightly enough, he could bring him back.

They reached out to him with gentle hands and coaxing words.

Zombieman, it’s okay. We’ll take it from here.

They didn’t expect the frenzied rage in his eyes, or the way he held Child Emperor even closer, looking back and forth between them like a caged animal.

They didn’t respect his response either.

“No.”

He shook his head, as if he was unsure they’d understood what he said.

“No,” he repeated. “He’s just a kid. I’m staying with him.”

The representatives looked back and forth at one another.

Finally, the woman in the front spoke.

“Alright,” she said gently. “You can stay with him.”

She extended a hand and after a moment, Zombieman took it.

She led him to the Hero Association vehicle and he climbed inside, still clinging to the child’s body like a lifeline, a vacant look in his eyes.

As the vehicle took off, she sighed. She’d seen that look all too often in her line of work.

It was well known the two were close, that Child Emperor was the closest thing the man had to a family.

Watching the hero cling to the boy’s broken body made her wonder why they authorized children to fight in their wars in the first place.

---

Zombieman felt a hand on his wrist.

“Hey, Zombieman, right?”

He turned and found himself facing the kid he’d seen at the S Class hero meeting.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, figuring it was best to humor the boy.

The boy extended a hand. “My hero name is Child Emperor. But you can call me Hikaru.”

Zombieman took his hand and shook it once. “Child Emperor, huh?”

Child Emperor nodded. “I’m the go to tech guy for the Hero Association. It used to be Bo—Metal Knight, but ah—” he flushed.

Metal Knight: one of two no shows at the meeting. He took it the hero wasn’t exactly popular.

Child Emperor continued. “Anyways, if you ever need any weapons upgrades or equipment, let me know.”

Zombieman gave him a half smile. “Thanks kid, I appreciate it.”

“Do you need help navigating to the exit?” Child Emperor asked.

If anyone else had asked him, he might have suspected they were mocking him. But the kid looked up at him with such earnestness that he let the unintended insult roll off his back.

The boy must have taken his lack of response as a sign he’d gravely offended Zombieman, because he stuttered.

“I’m not trying to say you can’t find your way out alone! I just—” he took a deep breath. “Occasionally I get lost trying to get out of here,” he confessed. “Bo—Metal Knight designed the place and he’s a bit paranoid, so he made it hard to navigate on purpose.”

That was the second time the kid had slipped up on the name.

He catalogued that detail for later.

“So if you get lost, what’s the point of taking you with me?”

Child Emperor opened his mouth. He closed it again and looked away, but not before Zombieman caught the gleam of dejection in his eye.

He nudged him. “I’m kidding. Apologies, I’m not the best at jokes. I’d be happy to have your company, Child Emperor.”

“Hikaru,” the boy corrected him.

Zombieman sighed. “I’d be happy to have your company, Hikaru.”

The two walked in silence for a moment.

“What’s your real name?” Hikaru asked. The boy immediately balked, apparently realizing it might not be the politest thing to ask. “You don’t have to tell me,” he added quickly. “I know a few of the heroes don’t like giving out their civilian names. I just wasn’t sure if—”

Zombieman waved him off, doing his best to hide his amusement.

The kid might be a genius, but he was obviously still a kid.

“My name is Experiment Sixty-Six,” he told the boy. “But that’s doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, so I don’t really use it.”

Hikaru’s face darkened. “You don’t have a real name?”

Zombieman shook his head. “Why don’t you give me one?”

Hikaru stopped in his tracks.

Zombieman looked back at him. “Hikaru?”

“That’s a lot to put on a person you just met,” Hikaru said, his voice rising in pitch with every syllable.

Zombieman shrugged. “You don’t have to decide now. But I figured we’ll probably be spending quite a bit of time together with work, so you’re as good a person as any to decide it.”

He started walking again, the faintest smile on his face.

---

The Hero Association asked him to speak at Child Emperor’s memorial.

He declined.

He’d already spoken at the boy’s funeral, and that had been hard enough. But the thought of speaking at the Hero Association’s memorial for him—which was just a thinly veiled publicity stunt and cash grab—would have made any living human’s stomach turn.

He went to the kid’s plot in the cemetery instead.

They’d interred his bones and ashes in the base of a statue of him. The statue showed him mid battle, held up by his mechanized spider legs, his trademark lollipop peeking out from between his lips.

On the plaque, in big, bold letters was his hero name.

Underneath was some meaningless platitude, probably supplied by a Hero Association minister.

And underneath that, in smell letters, was his real name: Hikaru Sato.

As if by making his name so small, they could hide the fact he was a person beyond his work.

That he was a child sent to fight while a bunch of suits sat around and let him take the risks they weren’t willing to take themselves.

Zombieman rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out an underdog figurine he’d made for the kid before he passed.

He placed it on the base of the statue, knowing it would soon be joined by many more offerings.

“Here’s to you, kid.”

---

It took Hikaru a month to come up with a name for him.

He threw open the door of Zombieman’s apartment, and Zombieman idly noted that giving him the key may have been a mistake.

“Augustus,” he said.

Zombieman raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. “Is that supposed to mean anything to me? And I told you the key was for emergencies only.”

Hikaru hopped onto the stool next to him. “You asked me to give you a name: Augustus.” He conveniently didn’t respond to Zombieman’s complaint.

Zombieman reached under the counter into his mini fridge and passed Hikaru a juice box. He’d started stocking up on them when the kid started coming over more regularly.

“What made you choose that?”

Hikaru stabbed his straw into the juice box. “I figured an old fashioned name would suit your old fashioned sensibilities. I can choose a different name if you don’t like it, oji.”

Zombieman chuckled at the nickname and shook his head. “No, it’s got a nice ring to it. Good choice, kid.”

---

Zombieman stood in what had been the kid’s lab, a pack of cigarettes in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other.

He’d managed to buy the property before it could be sold off. It’d pretty much cleared out his savings to do so (he had a feeling the realtor could smell his desperation and priced the building accordingly) but he’d done it.

It felt strange to be in Hikaru’s lab without him. It looked so much smaller without him there to buzz around the stacks of papers, or look for a specific book in his shelves (organized by subject, author, and color, in that order).

He made his way over to the desk and computer.

Hikaru had a few pictures framed on his desk.

The first was a picture of the kid and his parents before they died. He held his backpack by the shoulder straps in the picture, his gap toothed grin so wide his eyes had closed.

Zombieman smiled.

Next to it was a photo of the Hero Association’s cherry blossom viewing the year before.

And next to that…

His breath caught in his throat.

Next to that was a picture of them.

It was set of photos technically.

He remembered a civilian had taken of them after a fight with the promise to send them to the two.

The first one they were obviously posing for the camera. Zombieman had his axe slung over his shoulder and his other arm slung around Hikaru’s.

Both of them were absolutely covered in beast blood.

But despite that, they were grinning. And it wasn’t the tight, half smile he put on for fans. The exhilaration of battle and the stupid pun Hikaru cracked the second before had him grinning from ear to ear.

The next picture showed the aftermath of Hikaru’s terrible pun. Zombieman had him in a headlock and was giving him a noogie. Hikaru’s small hands grabbed at the arm locked around his neck, but both of them were laughing.

He took a step forward, his fingers ghosting along the edges of the photograph.

He leaned back against the desk, and took a drag of his cigarette.

“It’s weird being here without you, kid,” he said into the empty space. “I guess—I guess I should have known I would outlive you. But I thought we’d have more time.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat.

“I didn’t think it would end like this.”

He leaned his head back, taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey.

A light turned on.

“Hey oji!”

Zombieman liked to think he was hard to startle.

But hearing that voice made him spit take.

He whirled around and found himself facing Hikaru.

The bottle of whiskey fell from his hand, shattering on the floor.

The boy raised an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. “Planning on drinking and smoking in the lab?”

Zombieman took a step back. “How are you here? You’re—”

Dead.

The word got caught in his throat.

Hikaru nodded. “This was the backup plan. You’re speaking to a hologram.”

To prove it, he pointed at his feet, where Zombieman found a small projector.

Zombieman found himself smiling despite himself. “You really think of everything, huh?”

“Yeah, well the plan was to not have to deploy this for at least another few years,” Hikaru said. “But obviously, that didn’t work.”

“I’d hope the plan was to never have to deploy it,” Zombieman shot back.

The hologram shrugged. “Everyone dies at some point, even if it’s from old age. This would allow me to continue researching even after that.”

Zombieman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course it would. Kid, as someone who won’t get the chance to go back to being dead in a very long time, believe me when I say that once you’re that old, you’re not gonna want to kee—” he stopped.

In his confusion, he’d forgotten who he was talking to.

Hikaru laughed. “It’s okay. Talking to someone from beyond the grave must be weird.”

Zombieman nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“I do have something I need to ask you,” the hologram said.

Zombieman’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“Since this program was a few years out from being ready, the device a bit buggy. The AI is fine, but the projector itself will need maintenance to get it upgraded enough to be stable.”

“How much maintenance?”

“A few years’ worth.”

Zombieman sighed. “Leave it to you to leave me homework. I guess we better get started then.”

The hologram clapped its hands together, and to Zombieman’s surprise, the action was accompanied by the sound of a clap.

Hikaru really did think of everything.

“Great! I’ve got some books complete with pictures and diagrams that will walk you through the maintenance.”

Zombieman noted how Hikaru refused to make eye contact with him.

“Hikaru, how many books are there?”

As if on cue, a mountain of books dropped from the ceiling.

Hikaru winced. “Thirty-six.”

Zombieman gawked at the pile of books in front of him.

“Do I really have to—”

“Yep.”

Zombieman paused.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

Zombieman sighed and picked up the first volume.

He immediately closed it.

“What the fuck is a CPU?”

---

Sitch cleared his throat. “That is all we have on the agenda for this meeting. I will stay behind to answer any questions you have.”

Zombieman shuffled out of the meeting room, eager to get away from the Hero Association officials.

“Oji! Wait up!”

Zombieman stopped and turned around, letting the kid catch up to him.

Hikaru stopped next to him and hunched over as he caught his breath.

“You know, you didn’t have to run,” Zombieman said, a small smile gracing his lips. “I would have waited for you either way.”

Hikaru righted himself. “I need a favor.”

Zombieman cocked his head. “I’m listening.”

“I’m working on a new bot, and I need data to program it with,” Hikaru began. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to help.”

“I don’t know anything about programming, kid. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Hikaru shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m making a cooking robot, but I don’t know how to cook.”

Zombieman arched an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I do?”

Hikaru glared at him. “No person has your kitchen and doesn’t know how to cook.”

“I can guarantee you that Blue-Hair has a kitchen fit for a chef but doesn’t know how to fry an egg,” Zombieman replied.

“Hence why I’m asking you, not Mask.”

He paused.

“Also, Mask scares me.”

“And I don’t?” Zombieman quipped.

Zombieman felt an arm get slung over his shoulder. He turned his head to find Metal Bat standing between the two of them, as if he’d been summoned by the chance to mock Amai Mask.

“Aw, Karu, there’s no reason t’be afraid of Mask,” he said, pressing his knuckle to the boy’s cheek. “He’s jus’ another dipshit.”

Hikaru crossed his arms. “A dipshit with inhuman strength and speed.”

“Language!” The teen chided.

“You said it first!”

Metal Bat straightened his posture. “Ah, but I’m yer elder,” he said imperiously. His face split with a grin. “But if Mask gives ya any trouble, jus’ dump a bucket of water on him. He’ll be too busy worryin’ about his meltin’ makeup t’retaliate.”

Zombieman hummed. “You wear makeup too, Badd. Could we say the same for you?”

The teen shook his head. “Nah. All mine’s waterproof. This shit could weather th’apocalypse.”

He turned back to Hikaru. “None of these heroes are worth bein’ afraid of, ‘kay? Yer too smart fer that.”

“Not even me?” Zombieman asked.

Badd laughed and slugged him in the shoulder, hard enough that he felt the bone break. “Bah, yer not foolin’ anyone Auggie. Y’can play tough all y’want, but yer as gentle as a lamb.”

Before either of them had time to respond, the teen had extricated himself from their side and was halfway down the hall.

He sent them a salute. “See ya at th’next meetin’.”

Hikaru turned back to him. “Auggie?”

Zombieman shrugged. “I told you, I liked the name. Now about helping you with your cooking robot—”

The boy perked up.

“—I suppose I could show you what I know.”

---

“The nice thing about being a hologram is I can’t smell your cigarettes,” Hikaru said one night.

Zombieman looked up from volume three of thirty-six. “That’s your takeaway from all this?”

The hologram nodded. “They reek.”

He looked back down at the book. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t smoke them around you for a reason.”

A thunderclap shook the building.

“Uh-oh.”

Zombieman sighed. “What is it?”

He looked up again to find the hologram flickering and distorting.

“A fuse blew in the east wing of the lab and if you don’t fix it in—calculating—ten-point-two minutes then I will fizz out.”

Zombieman groaned. “But it’s raining outside.”

“Do you want me to die again?”

Zombieman’s throat closed up.

“Too soon?”

Zombieman nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oji, I’m sorr—”

Zombieman stood, the scraping of his chair against the floor cutting off the rest of Hikaru’s apology.

He grabbed his trench coat.

“I’ll go fix it then.”

---

“Are the dots necessary?”

Hikaru nodded. “They’re reading your brainwaves and helping me map the AI. Just try and go about cooking as normal.”

Zombieman chose not to mention how cooking as normal might be hard to achieve with all those wires on his head. “Do I even have brainwaves?”

Hikaru nodded again. “You wouldn’t be conscious if you didn’t.”

That seemed fair enough. But Zombieman’s physiology was anything but ordinary, so he had to check.

“Hey kid, come over here.”

Hikaru’s eyebrows furrowed, but he complied.

Zombieman passed him a rectangular knife. “Now, I’m not gonna teach you everything, but the least I can do is teach you some basic knife safety.”

The boy crinkled his nose.

“Hey, no funny looks. Teaching is the best way to show you know something, right? This should be helpful for your AI charting.”

“Mapping,” Hikaru corrected him.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Zombieman placed a bunch of green onions on the cutting board. “Now what you’re using is a Nakiri Bōchō. It’s the standard vegetable knife. The cutting edge is sharpened on both sides, so it’s good for making straight cuts.”

He held up his knife. “This is an Usuba Bōchō. It’s similar in silhouette, but it’s only sharpened on one side of the cutting edge. You can get much thinner cuts with it, but it takes more practice to master.”

Zombieman turned the knife over in his hands.

“We’ll cover all the different types of knives, but for now, let’s focus on your form.”

He curled his fingertips under his knuckles, and pressed the flat side of the knife against them. “See how I’m protecting my fingers?”

Hikaru nodded and copied his form.

“Good. Now push straight down.”

He demonstrated, pushing the knife through the air in one decisive motion.

Hikaru mirrored the action.

“Good. Now let’s try that with the green onions.”

---

This kid was going to destroy his life savings.

Zombieman walked out of the hardware store carrying a couple hundred-thousand yen’s worth of parts.

“This is so fucking heavy,” he grumbled.

“Hey!”

Zombieman stiffened.

“Hey is that you?”

Oh god.

He sped up, hoping that the minister would leave him alone.

But the minister was never one to take no for an answer.

He felt the hand clamp down on his shoulder. “Hi there! Long time no see!”

Zombieman glared at the hand on his shoulder. “Yep.”

Minister Sitch looked him up and down. “You look…” he hesitated. “Wonderful.”

Zombieman resisted the urge to raise his eyebrow.

He hadn’t shaven in two weeks, his hair was disheveled, and he was covered in coolant and oil.

A few words came to mind for how he looked.

Wonderful was not one of them.

He gave the minister a flat stare. “Thanks.”

If Sitch could tell how much Zombieman wanted the conversation to be over, he didn’t show it.

He slung his arm around Zombieman’s shoulders and Zombieman resisted the urge to throw it off of him, spare parts be damned. “You know, I get it. After everything that’s happened and Child Emperor’s…” his voice trailed off, and he coughed.

At least he had the decency to look guilty.

“After his passing, it’s only natural that you’d take a while off of work. Although, it has been three months. Everyone’s itching to see you again.”

“I’m sure they are—”

Sitch cut him off. “I kid, I kid. Take your time, really. If you ever need anything, just call me.”

Zombieman shook the man’s arm off his shoulder. “Cool—”

“What’s in the box anyway?”

“I’m building a robot,” Zombieman replied.

Sitch’s mouth opened, then closed again.

“Well, maintaining one,” he clarified.

Sitch looked him over. “That’s…neat.”

Zombieman nodded.

The minister coughed again. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”

Before Zombieman could respond, the minister scurried off.

---

“Hey Gus-jisan? How do you tell someone you like them?”

Zombieman took a sip of his coffee. “I’m probably not the person to ask about that one, kid.”

Hikaru’s face fell.

“But, I can try my best,” he said. “Tell me about them.”

“She’s in my class,” Hikaru started. “She’s really smart, and sweet, and she’s stubborn—”

Zombieman cut him off. “—And I’m gonna stop you right there kid. Rule of thumb, people don’t like being called stubborn.”

The boy tilted his head. “I guess that makes sense. Is it better if I say she fights for what she believes in?”

“Much.”

“And she’s really pretty,” Hikaru added. “And she played the piano for me last week.”

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

Hikaru nodded. “I’ve even given her little gifts. I made her a mechanized flower that opens when it hears her voice.”

Zombieman smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“And I think she likes me too,” Hikaru said.

“Then what’s the problem?”

The boy chewed his lip. “She has an older brother.”

Zombieman furrowed his brow. “Are you scared he’ll beat you up?”

Hikaru shook his head. “No it’s not that it’s just ah—her older brother is one of our coworkers.”

Everything snapped into place.

Zombieman pinched his nose bridge, an action he’d become all too familiar with.

“Hikaru,” he started. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Badd, ‘My-Sister-Is-All-I-Have-In-The-World-And-I-Will-Protect-Her-With-My-Life’ Fukichi’s sister, Zenko.”

The boy grinned sheepishly.

Zombieman sighed. “Kid, you’re in deep shit.”

---

“I need you to change my coolant canister.”

Zombieman groaned and set aside volume twenty-six of thirty-six. “Again?”

The hologram shrugged. “Well, somebody deciding to turn the heating unit all the way up—”

Zombieman stood. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it.”

He opened a metal cabinet, pulled out a new canister and a wrench, and made his way over to the system in the corner.

He heard Hikaru’s voice from the other side of a pile of papers.

“Hey, stay positive!” He said. “By this time next year, you’ll have learned enough from taking care of me that you’ll be eligible for three PHDs in robotics! Isn’t that exciting?”

Zombieman crouched and loosened the bolts on the old canister. “Oh, joy!” He yelled back, keeping his voice as flat as possible.

He could almost hear Hikaru stick his tongue out.

The thought made him chuckle.

He slid the new canister into place and connected the nozzle, then tightened the bolts around it.

Zombieman stood, taking a look at his handiwork. “How’s that feel?”

“Much better!”

As he turned to return to the main section of the room, the wrench slipped from his fingers, falling on his foot.

“AH FUCK!”

---

“Hey, kid, can I ask you to do me a favor?”

Hikaru looked up from the project he was working on. “What do you need, oji?”

Zombieman placed his Desert Eagles on the table. “I need ammunition with greater stopping power.”

The boy disassembled the guns with shocking ease. He examined one of the bullets. “Is there a reason you’re not using hollow point ammunition?” He asked.

Zombieman shrugged. “Call me a sadist.”

Hikaru sighed, and placed the bullet back on the table. “Well let’s start with that. No way you should be coming in here asking about stopping power while using round nose bullets.”

He pried open the casing, pouring the black powder onto the table. “Plus, that’s already about as much powder as you can use without destroying the gun or your arms.”

Zombieman nodded. “Well, the recoil destroying my arms isn’t an issue here. The pistols are another story.”

Hikaru hummed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

---

“It’s been good having you back,” Zombieman said one day. “When you were…when you were gone, I worried I’d never see you again. Or at least, I’d have to wait a very long time, long enough that you wouldn’t remember me.”

Hikaru smiled. “How could he forget you?”

Zombieman paused. “He?”

The hologram stiffened.

Zombieman swallowed. “You—you’re not him, are you?”

The hologram sighed and shook its head.

Zombieman pressed his lips together.

He’d forgotten how much betrayal felt like heartburn.

“Then what was the point?” He grated out, hating the way his voice cracked.

“Like I told you, to continue his research. But also—” the hologram hesitated.

“‘But also’ what?”

“He was worried about what would happen to you if he died before he finished his deadman’s switch. The research I could continue no problem, my AI’s been programmed for years. But this hologram was for you. He hoped it would help you grieve.”

“His deadman’s switch,” Zombieman repeated.

The hologram nodded. “He’d been working on a way to upload his consciousness to this lab when he died since he first joined the S Class. I estimate he was only a year or so out from the switch being completed when he died.”

Zombieman raked a shaking hand through his hair. “So if he’d focused on completing the switch instead of you and these damn manuals, he’d be here.”

Hurt flickered in the hologram’s eyes. “No,” it said quietly. “The hologram took him less than a day to make.”

“THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT?” He exploded, swiping the volumes off the table. “What was the point of him making you—what, to help me grieve? How is any of this—” he gestured wildly at the hologram “—helping me? What, by prolonging my grief? By making me think he’s still around? Now I’ve lost him twice, and I’m no closer to closure than I was when he left!”

“When he left?” The hologram repeated. “He’s dead, Augustus. And in the entire time you’ve been working on maintaining me, you’ve never once said that word.”

Zombieman crumpled on the floor in front of it.

“You think he wanted to die Auggie? Do you remember the fear in his eyes? He was just a child. And yet here you are, saying he left, as if he had a choice in the matter! Like he chose to leave to spite you!”

“Of course I remember,” Zombieman said, wishing—not for the first time—that his tear ducts still worked. “God, I remember he looked so young, and so fragile and so scared. And I couldn’t get to him in time.”

His shoulders shook with sobs. “It should have been me,” he choked out. “I should have done a better job dissuading him from going on that mission. He’s gone, and it’s my fault.”

A blue glow entered his periphery.

He looked up to see the hologram crouched in front of him. “It’s not your fault,” it said. “Hikaru was going to do what he was going to do. He was stubborn.”

“He fought for what he believed in,” Zombieman corrected.

The hologram laughed. “Maybe so.” It sobered. “But oji, we need you to say the stronger word.”

Zombieman shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

“You never are. But you have to.” It reached out and placed its hand on Zombieman’s shoulder. While he didn’t feel the pressure of a hand, he did feel warmth radiating from the spot.

“August, you need to move on. He wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

“Yeah, well he’s dead,” Zombieman spat out.

The second the word was off his tongue, he recoiled.

The hologram flickered. “That’s what I needed to hear.”

It disappeared, and Zombieman was left in a dark room, alone.

Hikaru’s computer screen blared to life.

Zombieman looked up, and there he was.

He stood, and walked over to the computer as if in a trance.

“Hey Gus-jisan,” the recording said. “If you’re watching this, that means I’m dead. It also means I didn’t finish my deadman’s switch before I died.”

Zombieman’s fingers touched the screen.

Hikaru shifted in his seat. “I’m not good at speeches, so I’ll try to keep this brief.”

“I know this has probably been hard on you,” he started. “And I’m sorry to leave you behind. I hope Holo-karu has been of some comfort to you.”

Zombieman snorted.

“If I know you, you’re probably blaming yourself for this. But this is not your fault.” Hikaru paused, a wry grin on his face. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think I did well enough this time around to land myself a spot in the Pure Land. And if that’s the case, when your time finally comes, I will greet you at the gate as a friend.”

He sobered. “I want you to know it is okay to grieve. But it is also okay to move on. I hope by the time you’re watching this you will have returned to work, even if it’s not hero work. I instructed Holo-karu to play this when they thought you were ready to hear it. I’m sorry if that means you didn’t hear it when you needed to.”

The boy straightened in his chair. “Before I close this out, a bit of housekeeping. There’s a locked file cabinet under the desk, I’m sure you’ve noticed it. The combination is 4766. Inside you’ll find a collection of drives. They’re labelled with the names of who they’re for. You’re welcome to invite people over here to view the message I left them. But keep the Hero Association, Metal Knight, and Drive Knight out. I don’t want them exploiting Holo-karu.”

Zombieman opened the drawer and sure enough, there were a dozen drives stored inside, names inscribed on them in Hikaru’s familiar scrawl. He dumped them on the desk.

Hikaru smiled, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m gonna miss you, oji,” he said. “But I’m grateful for the time we had together. And I’m so incredibly honored to have been part of your family. My only hope for you is that you don’t stop seeking that family now that I’m gone. There are people out there who would love to be a part of your life if you’d let them. Invite some of them over for dinner, show off your cooking skills. Ojisan, it’s time for you to put yourself out there.”

He gave one last smile. “Good luck Uncle Augustus. I believe in you.”

The screen went black.

#my writing

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penninstitute · 4 years

Text

Case #9981121

Statement of Naila Pesti, regarding her old dentist. Original statement given November 21st, 1998.

I've never really liked going to the dentist. It's awkward, right? They have you open your mouth, they stick their tools in, and then they start to talk to you. Like, hello? I have several metal sticks and tools in my mouth right now scraping at my teeth or whatever and you expect me to hold a conversation with you?

At least, it used to be awkward. I prefer a chatty dentist to… this last one I had.

I'd been going to Aspen Dental for the longest time. My dad brought me there as a teenager, and I just kinda, y'know, never really switched to another service. Like, sure, it's kind of a chain, and they try to sell you braces or something every time you go, but it was simple enough and I just never really felt like trying anywhere else?

At least until I moved to Arlington, Ohio, and, uh, there was actually a place right in town that I could go to. It was better than driving about half an hour to go to the dentist when I could just walk five minutes or drive two.

I'll just, uh, get right into it. About three weeks ago I had an appointment with them, and when I went in, the place was practically empty. Bare-bones waiting room, there were like, three uncomfortable chairs tucked against one wall and a shitty, wobbly table with a few old, old magazines sitting on it. There was one receptionist, and she barely even spoke to me, just checked me in and told me the doctor would be out to see me soon.

I sat there for maybe an hour. The receptionist was on the phone for most of it. Barely looked my way. There was nobody else in there except for me. There was no TV, or speakers or anything, so I was just sitting in silence, listening to the receptionist mutter quietly into the phone.

I ended up playing games on my phone for most of the waiting time. Started out at 70%, ended up at like, 22%, it was real bad.

Eventually the doctor came out--Dr. Nabatov, I think his name was? Called me in, smiled at me real creepily.

It was really weird. Like, there was nothing wrong with the smile, from what I could tell, it just didn't… sit right on his face, y'know? Like, it'd be fine on anyone except him, maybe. He seemed like a friendly guy! Maybe he just… smiled too wide, or… I dunno, it seemed like he had too many teeth, which would explain… later.

For the most part, the appointment was fine. I mean, it was standard stuff. Got my teeth cleaned, all that fun boring dentist stuff that everyone fucking hates. Seriously, fuck dentists! I don't want to tell you about my day, and even if I did, I can't, because you're shoving tools in my mouth.

Anyways. Sorry. I'm really bitter about that today, for some reason.

Towards the end, he said he had this extra service they do, just as a little thank you for customers, since supposedly they don't get a lot of business these days.

I should've asked more questions. I was expecting like, free toothpaste or something. He said it was free of charge, and I just kind of… said sure, I should have asked about it at least, I just… I dunno, I was tired, and was hardly paying attention already, I don't know why I agreed.

It's… this next part is a bit fuzzy. I remember the first part very clearly, though.

Dr. Nabatov opened his mouth, and ripped a tooth out.

There was no blood. What there was, however, was a thick, oily black substance that dripped out with the tooth. I couldn't move. I was terrified.

He pressed the tooth into my arm. This is where it all gets fuzzy. It hurt, but it didn't open a wound or anything. One moment, the tooth was pressed up against my skin, the next, it was embedded in it, like it had grown from my arm this entire time.

He did this a few more times until there were about a dozen teeth embedded in my arm. Just jutting out, white and pristine, regular human teeth. His mouth didn't look like he'd ripped any teeth out at all. When he smiled at me again, he beamed, and it looked like there were dozens and dozens of teeth in his mouth, and I'm amazed I didn't vomit right then and there.

He told me to be careful of the "implanting site" and said that the mouth would come in soon, probably two to four weeks. Rolled up his sleeves to show me his arms, which were covered in mouths filled with these teeth. He made them grin at me, told me I should be pleased with the results, this looked to be the best one he'd done all month.

I don't know how I didn't scream. I just stuttered out a numb "thanks", got up, and walked out. Didn't even pay. They didn't charge me.

I ran all the way home and pretty much puked the moment I got inside. I, uh, cut the teeth out of my arm. I don't remember a lot of it. I ended up at the hospital, said I'd had an accident while cooking, I didn't… say anything about the teeth, obviously. What do you even say?

My arm itches, now, more than it hurts. Maybe I'm just paranoid about it, but I'm worried that just taking the teeth out didn't do anything to stop… whatever he did.

I… have the teeth, if you want them. I doubt you do, but I'll… I'll leave them with you anyways. I don't want to look at them again. I should've just thrown them away.

FOLLOW-UP NOTES

- The Dr. Nabatov described in this statement seemingly does not exist. While it was hard to find records due to a lack of a first name, there were no records of a dentist with that last name working in Arlington, Ohio, around the time this statement was given.

- The statement giver supposedly left the teeth with us, but there were no attachments for the case file found in Artifact Storage. I don’t want to know what happened to them, if I’m being honest.

- Additionally, Ms. Pesti could not be reached for a follow-up interview. She was reported missing June 8th, 1999, and has not been seen since.

- While her disappearance would seem unrelated, it is notable that the only thing out of order found in her home after her disappearance, was the fact that a full set of adult human teeth was found sitting on the kitchen table. No blood or viscera attached, just the teeth. I don’t think I want to know what happened there, either.

#statement #9981121 #tma #the magnus archives #body horror

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heart-forge · 5 years

Note

Do any of the LIs have weird little phobias? Just small stuff which should be ok that is extremely not ok for them? Using myself as a shameless example: insects of all types make me very uneasy, but if it can -fly- (for an instant KO, add buzzing), I just wanna hop right off this planet/launch a nuke attack/faint. I'll likely scream, too, bc this is totally what functioning adults do. Extra Q: would the LIs be willing to heroically save MC from the creepy crawlies?

Oh don’t worry the Mantis (you know, like praying mantis?) portion of this ask is going to be very good. Also I’m going to broadly categorize this as “irrational” fears, not to @ you but just in general we’re all scared of a lot of stupid things that won’t kill us.

-----

Siruud

He’s like super used to bugs as someone who lives outside quite a bit, so it’s nothing for him to grab a cup and set an unwanted visitor free and wonder what exactly got you all worked up?

And his niche fear is, you know when sometimes computers talk when you don’t expect them to? Like they do it much less now than they used to back in the early 2000s, but just like, the Microsoft Sam voice? He hates it. It makes him paranoid, that kind of fear where you’re like scared to look in a mirror.

Tahira

Bugs don’t bother her either; if she has a spider on her porch she’ll go as far as to make sure it’s accomodated. Feeding ant colonies, growing wildflowers for pollinators, protecting webs, she’s on it. She will evict an unwanted visitor for you, but she’ll make sure she releases it in a danger-free zone.

Her phobia is like.... I don’t really know how to phrase it, but like bare metal? She thinks it looks dirty and cold and she doesn’t like to be near it. Especially kind of rough surfaced stuff, like she isn’t going to freak out about some artisan bowls or whatever (she won’t like them though) but like the really rough textured stuff that some gardening supplies are made out of? Makes her yarg.

Valerian

He’s fine with bugs until they start flying and then he is right there beside you calling for Ruth to get it out of the house. Suffice it to say he is not an outdoorsman and while he can tolerate the stray insect, once it starts flying he draws the line.

He’s got a real thing about teeth. It’s part vanity and part just pure yuck out but the man has nightmares about teeth all the time. He’s a little obsessed with keeping his and like, the idea of getting punched in the mouth and losing a tooth, even though he could easily replace it, grosses him out.

Gnarl

They’re used to bugs, to the point where they kinda do like people do with stray cats and dogs where it’s just. You don’t really encourage them to come closer because 9/10 times they don’t want to, but you chat with them. It’s been a long day, huh giant summer fly? Headed home from the office, weird shaped beetle? They’re happy to be the one to evacuate a small friend from your house.

They’re... like scared is the wrong word for some of these phobias because with some phobias it isn’t fear so much as just revulsion, but bad food !! This could range from food that is literally moulded and rotten to “trying something new that they don’t end up liking”. It’s why they tend to not try new things as much because if they only get one shot, they cannot risk not liking it.

Abeni

She’s not used to bugs. Like some bugs, but the chances of there being a giant dragonfly in your house vs the chances of there being some kind of creepy crawly she’s never even seen before, so the both of you just have to burn the house down and hope that prompts the bug to fly off somewhere to escape the fire. Good job everyone, problem solved.

She hates water plants touching her while she’s swimming. They feel like hands and she sure doesn’t know what’s in there. She’s depressingly aware of all the sorts of ways one can die in relation to the ocean and having creepy leaf hands wrapped around your legs and dragging you under is a horror movie scenario.

Mantis

She is an entomologist. Hybrid is sort of a post-post apocalyptic story where a group of friends band together to mind their own business while a man tries to ruin it for everyone, and Mantis takes it upon herself to study her favourite thing in the world, bugs. No one else was doing it. Even at her peak romance, you only break even with her love of bugs. If there is a bug in the house, it is there because she wants it to be. Do not argue with her.

She doesn’t like fire. I mean that’s not a super wild niche phobia but even candles are bad. She doesn’t cook because she doesn’t want to be near fire. She has the most clothes of anyone because she won’t go near the fire for warmth.

Trigger

He’ll throw a bug out. He won’t get why but that’s mostly because he’s been around Mantis so long that he’s used to playing second fiddle to a weird butterfly. He’s just a little surprised to be told to release a bug without you even drawing it or anything.

He hates loud noises. Not much to say about that, he’s just very very not happy when something is too loud.

Crave

He’ll throw it out for you but he’s very very careful about it. He also probably has some cool Bug Facts about whatever it is, that he picked up from Mantis; he doesn’t really care about bugs himself, but they’re important to Mantis so he won’t hurt them.

He’s got some sensory particulars that bother him. Lots of noise, even if it isn’t particularly loud, sets his teeth on edge. Sharp noises, like metal on metal or chainsaws unnerve him. Makes his spine feel all tight and his mouth gritty.

#talkForge #hybrid #manor hill #bad ritual #crave #mantis #trigger #tahira #siruud #valerian #abeni #gnarl #I'm so sorry this took me all day I'm so tired for no reason #Anonymous

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thefightingmagician · 5 years

Text

Upright

Her fingers pulled against the strap of her chest plate, tightening the metal around her more snuggly. It should have felt familiar to her, it had been the armour she used to wear back at the palace, her home. But this was not the palace, this was not her home. And the collar around her throat that jingled far too loud to her own liking, was not the normal part of her uniform. But then again, was this truly the same uniform and chest plate as before?

No, it wasn’t. She had done something to it, made it enchanted, but was anyone truly going to go and attack her? She had become more paranoid with each passing day, but personally speaking, Beatrix had lost all sense of time since agreeing to stay. She had to, it was her duty after all. Until her last breath, she had sworn. And where she came from, one did not simply break a blood oath.

Her thoughts drifted towards her homeland, briefly reminiscing and possibly even yearning for the sandy shores and the rainy forests before the thoughts screeched to a firm half. Shaking her head from side to side much like a wet dog would, the guard focused her eyes forward as the throne room doors opened and in came… what was once the Countess of Vesuvia. No longer a human, but more of an Arcana-human hybrid.

The initial change of Nadia had shaken her, how could it not. Gone was the beautiful and beloved Countess and in her place was, this creature that appeared to be Nadia and the Devil combined. It made her blood run cold when their eyes locked and often Beatrix found herself breaking the gaze, lowering her chin in submission and her head often receiving a possessive and firm pat from the Countess clawed digits. That motion made her heart skip, often reminding the guard of better times when those fingers were not ending in sharp talons and they softly glided through her hair. She often found herself shedding tears for what might have been. For who Nadia and she could have been…

And now, as the once Countess entered, another figure close at her heels, Beatrix could not look at the pair, rather turning her eyes towards the ceiling. The other was another she had once loved, but just the same as the once Countess, she could not bear to look at her. Could not will her heart to not shrivel, could not steady her tongue from becoming like a viper’s, poisonous words beginning to form, only for her to shut her mouth and grind out a small phrase before leaving their presences all together. Sadly, this was one occasion, she could not do such a thing.

This place had changed Miann just as the Devil’s heart had changed Nadia. The once bubbly and sweet magician had become cold and cryptic. When Nadia said jump, Mianna asked how high. It made her ill. Her beloveds had changed, and yet here she was, still grasping onto her own humanity that she felt slipping away each and every day. It did not help that Nadia was often looking after her with a predatory and knowing grin. The once-Countess knew she was changing and well, she took great pleasure from it. She had always liked watching Beatrix squirm.

“Beatrix.”

The way Nadia said her name made her skin crawl, but once upon a time, it had made her heart flutter and dance. Her tone oozed with possession and seduction, but no matter how hard she tried, she was always caught in her sway. And the once-Countess was not to be disobeyed.

She turned her head over slightly, looking towards the woman who spoke her name. Beatrix watched on as Nadia settled onto her throne, her legs folding one over the other and she beckoned towards her with a taloned finger.

“Closer, dearest. You know I strain for no one.”

She spoke towards her, settling her once raised hand back onto the armrest of her throne. Miann sneered from the left side, watching as Beatrix stepped closer. Their relationship had not been what it once was since her full exception of this new Nadia. It had changed her altogether. Horns, blackened sclera, and even a tail. This was not her Miann. That was not her Nadia.

She looked towards Nadia from beneath her lashes, watching her as she watched her.

The once-Countess leaned forward, taloned fingers wrapping around her chin and lifting it upward. Her skin, surprisingly, did not crawl as she touched her. Beatrix even felt herself lean into the touch, hearing a soft hum of pleasure from Nadia.

“That’s a good little guard. My precious little guardian. How are you feeling today?”

It was an innocent inquiry, but those were the most loaded questions when it came to this Nadia. She would not keep her waiting long, especially when they were in contact. She was unpredictable when she had a hold on Bea.

“Fine, my Countess.”

“Just fine? Come now, my sun and stars… There’s something bothering you.”

“D...don’t..”

She uttered the singular phrase and immediately cringed, feeling Nadia’s fingers tighten around her chin, drawing her closer.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Nothing… My Countess.”

Nadia gazed at her, goat-like ears twitching slightly and she leaned closer, their faces nearly touching. Her nose brushed once and then twice against Beatrix’s and she drew her closer, her taloned fingers tracing down to the collar around her throat and giving it a little tug.

“Kneel. Miann, inspect her. Now.”

“Of course, Nadia.”

Beatrix was forced to her knees both by the sudden force around her throat and Nadia’s own command. The collar was always the source of her troubles, it had been the day it was put around her neck, but in the end, it did earn her some good things.

Miann stepped closer, lowering herself a bit to Beatrix’s level and sneering slightly again.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you, Pup?”

She taunted, placing her hands on her forehead. Miann glided her hands through her hair, pausing at about the middle of her head and grinning a sharp tooth smile.

“Oh~. Now, what’s this?”

Bea had grown out her hair somewhat, or rather it had been growing on its own and she hadn’t the time to handle it as she was always running about with some task or another. Plus, she had the feeling that Nadia preferred her hair longer. More to touch. She flinched at Miann’s pausing touch and grimaced as she yanked her head upwards, presenting her find to Nadia.

“Ah, a beautiful sight. So we’ve finally gotten through to you, have we, my darling pet?”

Horns had begun to sprout from her head, the first initial sign that her resolve was breaking. She had found them not a week ago, or what she believed to be a week. Back then, she had tried to file them down but to no avail. And now they were growing further and further, a little by each passing day.

“Absolutely beautiful. I believe this calls for a cel-“

“N-no. I… I won’t… Give in.”

Beatrix hissed out and attempted to strain against the force that was keeping her in place.

“You would disrespect your Countess?”

“YOU’RE NOT HER!”

She shouted, yanking her head from Miann’s grasp and glaring at Nadia, who leaned back in her throne and laughed loudly. The laughter curling upwards and bouncing off the walls.

“Oh dear, of course, I’m not her. I’m much better.”

Beatrix felt like she had been slapped, jerking her head to the side as she ground her teeth together before slumping. All fight seeming to be leached out of her and tears began to form at the corner of her eyes. It was hopeless, there was no going back, her Nadia was gone and she was changing. She was becoming like them. That had been the plan all along, hadn’t it? To be changed… To become the reverse of who she was.

And as her head was raised again by Nadia’s clawed digits, she gazed into the red eyes of the woman she once loved and saw nothing of her former self. Just an empty-eyed, predator wanting more power. She would not look long as her eyes closed and she leaned her chin into her hand. Giving up. This was one fight she could not win.

Birds chirped softly and the soft murmur of voices awoke her. Blearily, she stared up at the canopy hanging over the large bed and she stretched out slowly, much like a cat would before sitting. A frown creased her features as she looked about the bedroom.

This… this was the Devil’s realm. Not the chambers of the twisted and evil once-Countess. No. This was her chambers in the summer palace.

“What… What the Hell?”

Her words escaped her own lips and she was startled by her own voice. Turning her head from side to side, she started at the sound of a knock at the door and the appearance of Portia’s head poking in.

“Finally awake sleepy head? Come on, breakfast has been ready for the past ten minutes and you best not keep those two waiting. Your clothes are already set out for you.”

The ginger-haired Chamberlain grinned at the Guard Captain who stared at her, a confused expression on her features.

“Portia?”

“You alright there, Bumble-Bea? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. And everyone knows this place isn’t as haunted as the palace back home. Now come on! Up, up, up!”

The other woman stepped further into the room and grasped Beatrix’s hand. Even though she was a good seven inches shorter than Bea and not as muscled, the servant was able to yank her out of bed with some clear effort. Beatrix opened her mouth to speak but was hushed by Portia and ushered over to the clothes that were laid on the chaise.

“Mush! Come on, breakfast. And you three have a date with the ocean an hour after, come on.”

And once she assured herself that Beatrix was up and dressing, Portia made her exit.

The Guard Captain stared down at the clothes that had been laid out for her. Truly they were items she had packed by accident, but nonetheless, it had certainly pleased both Nadia and Miann when they saw her retrieve the outfit from her luggage upon arriving.

Consisting of an essentially sleeveless tunic of deep purple, a set of trousers in black, simple sandals and a set of golden arm braces.

A sigh escaped her and she ran her hands through her ruffled, bed-headed hair. She still could not shake the nightmare, nor the feeling of the claws on her skin. Giving her head a firm shake in a clear attempt to shake the memory, she grumbled and moved to finish dressing, clicking the arm braces into place and then stepping over to her vanity to comb her hair into a proper style.

Soon enough, she was exiting her chambers and stretching her arms upward. Letting out a grunt, she flexed her fingers at her sides and began heading off in the direction of the dining room but paused as a familiar figure came bounding towards her from the direction of the terrace.

“Good morning Corny, where’s Miann, hm?”

Beatrix lowered herself to a crouch as the familiar trotted over and climbed up onto her shoulder and then to her head. He began pointing and gesturing towards the terrace. A chuckle escaped Bea and the duo began strolling in the direction of the open doors.

The terrace was a large outdoor sitting area that overlooked the rolling ocean and sandy beaches that the trio would soon be relaxing on. It was a beautiful view, but Bea was not focused on it, but rather her eyes were focused primarily on the two seated figures at the table.

Nadia was watching Miann with a knowing smile on her features as the magician was attempting to figure out one of the Countess puzzle cubes. Miann, meanwhile, was cursing softly at it under her breath but she was grinning all the same.

Cornelius the familiar climbed down from the woman’s head and trotted happily back over to Miann, scaling up to sit on the back of the chair. The magician looked up from the puzzle cube, her grin turning into a broad smile.

“Bea, good morning!”

“Good morning my stars.”

Beatrix stood in the doorway still, just gazing at the two of them before she felt a wetness on her cheeks. Blinking, she raised a hand and felt her cheek. Tears. She was crying and she soon found herself enveloped in between the once two seated women.

“Bea, what’s wrong, who upset you? Who do I have to set on fire??”

Came the hurried and worried questions of Miann who held tightly to both Nadia and Bea. However, the woman did not respond, merely burying her face into Nadia’s shoulder and hugging the two of them as close as she possibly could. They stood like that for many moments, Nadia and Miann exchanging worried glances as their normally strong and boulder-like lover sobbed. And soon enough, as quickly as the tears came, they soon settled and Bea pulled away, sniffling and gazing at the both of them.

“I… I love you both. I… Was just so overwhelmed, I had… A nightmare, it…”

“Was it the arena nightmare or th-“

“No.. It… Was something new. I don’t want to talk about it, please, let’s just enjoy our day. I… I’m alright, really. I… I love you both so very much.”

Nadia was silent, gazing down at her before gently cupping her face with both hands and drawing her thumbs over her eyes, brushing away the tears and gently pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s alright, Beatrix. It was just a nightmare, it can’t hurt you anymore. Now come, breakfast is set for us and we’ll need all the energy we can get for today’s outing.”

She beamed down at her loves before ushering them back over to the table and they all settled down to eat.

The day, after the brief moment of Beatrix breaking down in front of them, continued on uneventfully. But Bea did seem a bit distant to Miann and Nadia, who quietly exchanged concerned glances throughout the day. However, by the end of it, they all climbed into Nadia’s large bed and cuddled close to each other. Miann was often between the two larger women, but for this evening and many evenings to follow, Bea was held tightly and comfortingly by her two lady loves.

The nightmare did not return, but the memory remained, nestled deep within the subconscious of the Guard Captain. And sometimes, on her worst days, she swears she hears the laughter of the devil-Nadia and holds on tighter to the ring around her neck.

But in the end, it was a dream. She was not a reverse of herself, and neither were her beloveds. Everything was right.

#the arcane nadia #nadia satrinava #Countess Nadia #nadia x mc #beatrix #semi-reversed but sorta only alluded to #beatrix the apprentice #bea #also surprise guest star miann!

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hyrulessongkeeper · 6 years

Text

A beginning

For my discords AU for Bone Tiba Wild, a history of sorts, before Red met our Boss, and when he was still known, as Sans

Ebbot City has been here for a long time. History books will tell different stories, but monster history is a bit more closer to the truth. Monsters were in this land first, then humans came.

The humans were not cruel, in fact, they seemed to be closer to monsters than they realized. They held magic, but it did not control their form, their SOULs were different as well. Some monsters are old enough to remember the time, but their minds are too far gone from age to give you a coherent answer though.

The war in history books differs as well. The fight began over a misunderstanding though. When a human and a monster disappeared. One side blamed the other and the peace ended quickly. The war lasted for many years, humans claiming one side of the valley, and monsters claimed the other.

Human history books, will tell you they won. Monster history books have the true story. The war was devastating on both human and monster sides, but when the missing two came forth, from the underground that was under the mountain. They held something small and tiny, a baby. The first of its kind, a half breed.

“UGH THAT’S GROSS!!” a loud voice shouted.

Sans groaned and looked to his brother, his eyelights rolling in their sockets. Why can’t this damn kid just shut up and let him tell a damn story, he was tired, been workin’ too hard.

“I know bro, but that’s what stopped the war, least back then.” Sans grumbled. Papyrus shifted in his bed and glared, his sockets narrowing. “Can i keep tellin’ the damn story now?” Sans asked.

“YOU MAY CONTINUE!” Papyrus nodded. Sans sighed and shook his head, his brother was so demanding sometimes.

“Well then let’s keep goin…” Sans trailed off as he continued the tale.

Humans and monsters were shocked at this. They never thought breeding was possible, but, this human and monster were apparently SOULmates, a thing that is rare even between monsters. So a truce was reached. Monsters and humans would come back together, to live in peace.

Sans scoffed at that. Peace? Nah, not no more. There may be ‘peace’ but not PEACE. There were gang wars, kidnappings on both sides. Stars, the royal family was even victim to it, their children being claimed. Now Asgore don’t talk much, his wife Toriel is in the best monster mental ward at the foothill of the mountain. He advocates, but nothing more than rallies and the like. Sans huffed out a breath as he looked to his brothers sleeping form, walking out the room to let his little brother sleep.

Sans didn’t think Asgore needed to be so careful, from what the JUDGE has been observing as of late, humans magic was pretty much dead. Then again, half breeds were a whole new story. They were enigmas, even to Sans, they had different abilities compared to monsters and humans.

Sans walked to the basement of the large mansion. He sighed softly as he reached the large metal door. He remembered liking coming to this place a long time ago, back when his father was around. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, feeling the smooth gold tooth.

“Yeah, back before the old man started goin’ crazy.” he grumbled. His old man was working on this odd machine. Wingdings says it will make them the most powerful family on the monster side of Ebott City, powerful than even the royal family.

Sans didn’t really get it, they were already a pretty powerful gang family, that’s why they live in a large house. He didn’t question it after getting decked by the old man. He lost a damn tooth for stars sake! He wasn’t making the same mistake twice.

He passed through the magic barrier, that made the entire basement soundproof, magic proof, except for Gaster and Sans, and undetectable. The old man was quite paranoid about this project, but hey, geniuses were paranoid to an extent. Sans shuddered. He hoped he wouldn’t lose his mind as much as his pop.

Gaster was working on the machine as usual. Muttering to himself and at no one in particular. Sans glanced to the work table, seeing an empty plate and coffee cup. He sighed in relief, at least he ate today.

“What’s up pops?” Sans shouted. The taller skeleton shot up and looked to his stout son, his eye sockets black. Sans stiffened quickly, readying a dodge. His eye lights returned, a big smile forming on his face.

“Ahhh Sans! I am almost done!! Soon we shall have such a big family!” he laughed in that manic way again as he started to flip some switches here and there. Sans sighed. Maybe if this didn’t work, he would finally go back to normal. One could hope yeah? He walked a bit closer, then he felt it. A shift. He looked around quickly, trying to find the source, when he landed on the pull of reality near his dad.

Holy shit the old man did it, Sans was about to congratulate the old man, when something went wrong. Sans’s magic flared, grabbing his dad’s SOUL, the gravity magic only holding him slightly as Gaster was pulled into the nothingness of the Void.

Sans tilted his head, worry crossing his face. How did he know that that is what it was called? He looked to Gaster who was still all smiles.

“You crazy old man!! look at what you have done!” Sans growled, trying to pull his dad back, he himself being pulled forward.

“Isn’t it great Sans?”

“ n o.”

“Soon we shall have so many ‘cousins’..”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ bout old man!?”

“So many alternate versions of us, pulled to this reality.”

What the fuck was this lunatic going on about?!

“Turn the machine off pops! yer gettin sucked in!!” Sans tried to pull again, sweat lining his skull as he was pulled in more. Gaster looked at him confused, then, realizing what was going on, he snapped back, worry coming across his features as he reached for his son.

Sans grabbed him, trying to pull with his strength and magic, but the Void, it demanded.

“Sans…”

Sans looked down, his old man was finally back to, his usual calm there, cold, calculative. Sans shook his head. He knew what he was going to ask.

“Sans. You need to let me go.”

“ like hell i’m lettin’ go!” Sans growled.

“Sans, it’s too strong, Papyrus needs you.”

“..he needs you too!”

“Sans..”

“ i said no damnit!!” Sans cried out.

“Sans, be strong for Papyrus, you will not be left alone, I promise.” Gaster smiled and released his hold on Sans’s hand. Sans gripped as tight as he could, he refused to lose his dad, REFUSED. The Void though, it is not kind. It tugged one last time, claiming the bulky skeletons father. Sans shouted, trying to dive in, but something stopped him, claiming something from Sans for glancing into the Void. Whatever it was, it was powerful.

Sans sat there, magic beading on his skull as he felt a new magic melding with his own, and knowledge, new knowledge was swirling through his head.

“ hey uh...ya okay there pal?” a deep voice asked.

Sans whipped around, his magic flaring, a red smoke coming out of one of his sockets. Only to stop.

The old man...he did it. The crazy fool did it.

There stood, copies of him and Papyrus. His copy looked around and sighed.

“ did you do this?” he asked, placing his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodie.

“ nah...old man did.”

“ anyway you can get us back home?”

“ no…”

The guy sighed and rubbed his temples, he spotted the machine. It was broke beyond all repair. Him and his alternates were stuck here for a long time.

“ well buddy, i hope ya plan on housing all of us.” he spoke calmly, a calm that hid a dangerous side.

Sans nodded, starting to set everyone in rooms, there was so many of them, it was hard to keep up.

So this was their life now? Living with their ‘cousins’? What was he going to tell Papyrus? The truth. Paps was smart, more than he lets on most times. So the truth is what was going to be told. Tomorrow. Sans wanted nothing more than to sleep right now.

Well, old man will be right about another thing. They will become the most powerful monster gang this side of Ebott City. He would make sure of it.

#A Mafia of Sorts #Bone Tiba Wild #some backstory #yay

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manchasama · 6 years

Note

Hello! I am an anonymous fairy coming to visit you. Feel like some CC questions? Does Sephiroth know how to dance, and would he if Cloud asked him to? What is Sephiroth's favorite food/desert? Does Sephiroth think that Cloud looks hot on his motorcycle? (Lol) Do Cloud or Zack ever make jokes about how long Sephiroth's sword is? (Like srsly tho, what does he do? Use it for shish-kabobs?) Would Cloud ever dress up on halloween? Does Sephiroth ever drag Cloud places? Thank you very mucho.

Anonymous fairy thank you for the visit, last week was hectic and I admittedly forgot I had this until Koorii reminded me. I do so love getting CC askssss *rubs hands together*

Does Sephiroth know how to dance, and would he if Cloud asked him to?

Koorii: He probably does and pretends he doesn't. Genesis most likely taught him, lbr, and in a fit of pique he'd probably reveal the fact when he and Cloud are in a situation that calls for it. I.e. someone tries to dance with Cloud and Seph is like No Mine. I'm not sure Cloud would ask? Except maybe he would if he was being a shithead, which happens. So, Sephiroth would probably put him off until above situation occured. Cloud would probably realize this and do it just for that reason. He plays Sephiroth easily tbh.

Sama: Honestly yeah, shithead!Cloud is the most likely situation for it to come up at all. But we also must remember their roots (oh OG, you bring me so much ridiculous joy). There are times where his friends would and could talk him into doing something silly, and he can and does have the ability to drag Seph in (if Seph's in a good enough mood tbh). I don't think either of them have any desire to dance in and of itself, though.

What is Sephiroth's favorite food/desert?

Koorii: Hmmm.... You eat healthier than I do lbr here so what sorta dishes could you see Seph eating? I imagine him as being very conscious of what he consumes. Picky bastard.

Sama: Sheesh. I seem him more as someone who is not picky in terms of variety, but it has to be quality. Has to be balanced. Meat veggies carbs kind of thing, something prepared from scratch. Looks down on restaurants, never as good as his cooking.

Koorii: Yes and he generally cooks for himself because he's like a paranoid motherfucker

Sama: That too. Something else he can control rather than shinra cafeteria food he had to grow up on

Koorii: I don't really see him as a sweets person, or if he does have a sweet tooth it is a Very Big Thing No One Gets To Know

Sama: Doesnt crave them, I'd think. He doesn't crave much, and that's the problem. No outlet at all. But he does like them when he eats them, as long as they are not cheap crap

Koorii: I could see him liking simple chocolate sometimes, and preference toward dark chocolate?

Sama: (yes agreed) (personally attacked as well) tho to be fair--

Koorii: Because he's a heaten like you. (laughs, tbh ur my model for picky eater)

Sama: He does splurge on hair care, so he can splurge on other things too I gueeessss

Koorii: Yes. Imagine him eating like that high end ice cream and shit like that; frozen yogurt.

Sama: I cant imagine icecream being that easy to get in the military. He totally eats it as much as possible to piss off suppliers. Because he can.

Koorii: lmao yes, he always has a carton in his fridge

Sama: Carton smarton he makes his own still. Just the rare fruits and fresh milk and crap.

Koorii: Cloud might be the crossdresser but Seph is totally the housewife, just sayin

Sama: Yes. Cloud is a bit of a slob, not awful but

Koorii: Seph would beg to differ

Does Sephiroth think that Cloud looks hot on his motorcycle?

Sama: So, does he think Cloud is hot on a bike

Koorii: Yes, but that doesn't mean he's going to ride on that metal monstrosity with him, even tho I fucking love the image of him doing it.

(Lol) Do Cloud or Zack ever make jokes about how long Sephiroth's sword is? (Like srsly tho, what does he do? Use it for shish-kabobs?)

Sama: I actually think innuendo jokes about swords might make Cloud and Zack uncomfortable. Not consciously, but they avoid it

Koorii: I was about to say Zack might but... he honors Bustersword a lot so I can't actually see him doing it. All three of them are very fond of their weapons.

Sama: Yeah swords have meaning to them so.... Cloud for all three, for very different reasons.

Would Cloud ever dress up on halloween?

Sama: If Halloween was a thing in this world, the only times Cloud would dress up would be basically cajoled by friends or Denzel. He can be talked into a lot of silly things by his friends and family, but is unlikely to do them on his own (like the play with Aerith lol).

Koorii: Sephiroth would flatout disappear for the whole thing

Does Sephiroth ever drag Cloud places?

Sama: aaaand last

Koorii: Of fucking course Sephiroth drags Cloud places

Sama: Mostly out for sparring but

Koorii: Powerful monster? Hell yes, come on Cloud lets go on a battle date.

Sama: Also if cloud is being stubborn about work

Koorii: Or just to get some full attention for awhile because he's Sephiroth he deserves Cloud's full attention sometimes (all the time)

Sama: Yup

#counter crisis #ff7 #i forget how i tag things so whatever #hey koorii #job hunting suuuuckkkssss #so does the last day of work #i want a vacation #but alas #Anonymous

14 notes · View notes

cutesyhunter · 6 years

Text

Ink Stained Mirror Chapter 2: Music room (3/5)

*- are for important breaks in the story such as a time skip

(numbers)- are for different days that it happened, like different dates.

Mary balanced the papers in one hand staring at the device in her other as if it would any minute get up and just start walking. Joey had given them the recording device, or ‘Audio log’ a few months ago, something about for a class on art and animation, also for future employees to see how close the staff was. She’d never seen a device like it but she supposed Joey had his ways of getting things.

They’d had them for a while and everyone had already had something to say, but Mary didn’t know what to say. It’s not that she didn’t have a lot to say exactly, she just didn’t know what to say: Most sounded pretty stupid at least to her. She was too giggly and nervous, she wanted to sound like she knew what she was doing not like a giggly idiot.

She sighed going into the music room to give Sammy some sheet paper from storage, pretty proud she managed to avoid getting ink all over it.

No Sammy in the music room, or in the recording booth, she figured he was in his office, and went to check, since it had a window all the way at the end of the hall she figured, she’d see him but didn’t. Curious she put the blank sheets down to avoid getting them blacked out due to the sometimes gushing pipe outside of Sammy’s office.

Looking into the blindspot from the end of the hall, still no Sammy.

She wondered where on earth that gent could be? Wally had said he was here.

Shrugging she went to retrieve the papers and recorder from the stand she’d set them on, as she did so she heard a sound from the music room, a metallic sound, trying to place the sound, it stopped just as suddenly as it had started.

Confused she went into the music hall, to see Sammy sitting in one of the chairs, he looked at her.

“Why do you look so confused?” She must have had quite the look on her face for him to not even greet her first

“Sammy, where’d you come from?”

“I’ve been in here.” Sammy said

Now Mary was even more confused, had he been hiding behind the piano as to not be disturbed?

Had he been in the projection room above? No…she would have seen him.

Her confused inner ramblings had been interrupted by Sammy

“Can I help you with something?” Mary could never read Sammy’s frowns but this one wasn’t one of his glaring ‘scram’ looks as she called it

“I heard you needed some sheet music, so I got you some.” Mary said a nervous smile forming on her lips

“All right.” He shrugged taking the papers from her “Thank you”

“Y-Your welcome” She moved her hair behind her ear nervously

He looked at her other hand “Why are you holding you’r audio log like that?” She’d been holding it with two of her fingers on the ‘holder’ thing, like a metal bucket.

“you’ll drop it if you continue to do that”

“oh” She held it more in her hands since she couldn’t afford to break the thing, she didn’t even know where Joey got it if she did!

Looking at it she couldn’t help but sigh again, at her earlier thinking.

Sammy was staring at her again “What’s with that look?”

“oh it’s nothing…I’m just thinking” She told him

“is there something wrong with the recording?” He asked

“No of course not…I just don’t know what to say for the recording.” She said honestly to him

“Can I see it?” He asked, confusing her for a second time in the span of ten minutes

“Um…sure” She handed it to him, much to her embarrassed dismay, he pressed rewind and play on one she’d done the first day she got the thing.

(static) (rustling)

“Hi…(giggle) I’m Mary. Mary McConnell…(Strained laughter)”

Sammy looked at her, she’d turned into a shade of red that matched her hair, he gave her an amused look, making her turn deeper red somehow, when the recording stopped laughing his attention was back on the static words

“I (pfft)…(Throat clearing) I believe I should start at the beginning that’s how all stories start after all (Nervous giggle), my younger sister…well twin sister, Minnie got me this job. I was really struggling with keeping jobs, I’m pretty clumsy… (snort from laughter, throat clearing) I didn’t expect to keep this job let alone Minnie to keep this job, but seeing so much fire and passion when I see her drawing and trying to get it done, I feel so proud and, I feel like I could do this too! “

(…)

“Oh this sounds so unprofessional!-“

(static of being turned off)

Sammy looked up at her again, she was incredibly red in the face, like every drop of her blood had decided to rest in her face instead of throughout.

“I think you should keep it up, it doesn’t sound unprofessional and has a lot of personality” He placed the recorder back in her hand

It took a minute to process, did-did Sammy just encourage her?

“Don’t you have to go back to drawing?” He interrupted her thoughts again, with a really good point

“Oh that’s right! I left Minnie to finish the scene!” Mary took off leaving Sammy to his sheet music, and to hold in a chuckle at the tape being so sincere it hurt.

Mary and Minnie had a fight

when they had fights they couldn’t be in the same room without a glaring contest.

This week it was about Minnie getting a gold tooth which Mary thought was a dumb idea when they should be saving money

They’d had fights at work before, it’d put the studio even more behind schedule combined with the ink spilling on everything, with two of their animators fighting.

So when stuff like this occurred she helped another co-worker, with literally anything else.

Wally with cleaning: She hated this one since Wally would start to laze around when she helped. It was annoying. She liked him but his laziness should not be a thing when everyone was working hard.

Norman with his projection: She liked it a great deal since Norman was a real swinger of a guy. Only when she snuck up on her is when she didn’t like the work, editing was one of her favorite things when working with him, he’d talk about his family and such. Sometimes he’d tell her suspicions of Joey doing something, but she thought Norman was being Paranoid, it was making her a bit paranoid actually.

Sammy and Jack: They were okay to work for, she mostly went and got blank sheet music, mostly Jack since Sammy kept giving her a glare. Jack reassuring it was no hard feelings Sammy just didn’t like distractions when working. Mary was sure he just didn’t like her. She didn’t do this job often.

Any other jobs she had no experience with and therefore not trusted with the job

Today she was working with Norman, she was nagging about Minnie

“I mean who does that? get a gold tooth in a drunken stupor at a time like this? I mean I told her not to do something like that!”

Norman just silently listened as she complained, it wasn’t any worse than what his wife complained about.

“and she’s just so irresponsible most of the time, I mean can’t for once she do as she’s told or be at least a little responsible for her actions!” Mary fumed

“Ya both young, ya can ‘fford to be stupid” Norman said looking at the film for any imperfections

“Yes! I know that! But in these trying times we have to be cautious but Minnie is anything but that!”

Norman wondered if his own daughter was going to be like this when she hit puberty

“M’ybe ya need to t’ke a step back, ‘nd just calm down doll”

“I can’t when I’m so livid at her!” She fumed “This isn’t the first time! The last time she was in a drunken stupor she gambled away her paycheck! She bets all this money for some big thing thinking she might be able to save us out of this depression when she can’t!”

“‘ave ya told Minnie about this?” Norman asked

“Yes! She’s does this time and time again still!” She huffed out frustrated

Norman pat her on the back to get her attention “‘ave ya been firm with her?”

“…I think so?”

Norman noticed when he was walking and kind sneaking around. his observations with the twins were, Minnie was irresponsible but so good at reading people.

Mary was more of a doormat, but was such a sweetheart.

It was disconcerting since it Joey seemed to target what he considered weakness, one of the things Norman observed that Joey considered a weakness was kindness.

It didn’t surprise Norman that Minnie didn’t want Mary alone in a room with Joey, it was sweet of Minnie but something else Norman noticed was that since Minnie protected Mary all the time, it made the woman completely blind to the danger she was in.

“Mary do ya know wh’t Joey is like?” He questioned

“Well I know he’s a flirty gentlemen that knows how to flatter a lady” Norman had to stop his from snapping at her and getting whiplash “I really hope he fixes all the problems that are going on…someday…so he’d unreliable…”

Mary’s hand rested on her chin as she looked to the side with melancholy, she was thinking about it but to Norman it was obvious she didn’t want to see the bad in him, but she could see it. She didn’t want to say it, in case he was around the corner and fire her.

Norman considers his next question “Do ya think he’s suspicious at ‘ll?”

Mary looked at him smelling another theory of his “Should he?”

Shaking his head “I mean who gets a’ ink m’chine that causes more h’rm than good? Who m’kes his employees work overtime for getting the thing?”

“I don’t ask, I just do my job” Mary huffed out

They were both silent for a good moment

“Hey!” Both of them jumped, looking down at Jack, the lyricist.

“Can one of you go the melodies from Sammy if he’s done?”

Both of them wrinkled their noses at the terrible smell coming off Jack

“I will” She said trying not to show how bad he smelled, and avoid the conversation with Norman further

Once she left, Norman sighed, he really hopped the woman would be ok.

Pro: Her and Minnie made up by the end of the day

Con: Mary didn’t know how to feel about Joey anymore, but she really didn’t want to be fired so she was to stay quiet and try to stay positive.

Mary could almost swear that Sammy didn’t like her or Minnie, he always had this frown when she saw him, it could also have to do with the fact that he was always covered in just as much ink as she did at the end of the day. Maybe even more since she could sometimes still see the color under the black, but Sammy looked like a big walking ink stain.

Maybe she could get him some new shirts for a holiday if she knew his measurements?

Shaking her head of the thoughts as she continued sowing in the break room, she had another job to do, sewing by commission, she and Minnie couldn’t live if Joey kept ‘forgetting’ to give them their paychecks.

But they had jobs at least.

When the door opened she didn’t look up, far too focused on sewing.

“May I join you?”

She looked up to see Jack, the lyricist. He didn’t have the funky smell so she didn’t realize tit would be him.

“It’s just so quiet in her for once”

“Sure I don’t mind the company” Mary nodded, she heard him sit down, and went back to sewing.

She was so in the zone she didn’t hear another person come in, that is until they started talking to her

“Mary!” She jumped at her name, she looked at Jack only to find Sammy with him

“I’ve been calling you for the past two minutes. You in your own wonderland or something?” Sammy sighed

“you…know my name?” She couldn’t quite get over that shocked since she’d never heard him call her

“Of course I know your name, I’m gonna have to work with you, only an idiot wouldn’t learn the names of their coworkers”

Mary had to resit the urge to think about how she didn’t remember her customers names well

“As I was asking” He interrupted her thoughts “How does it sound?”

Sammy played a song on his banjo

Mary thought of the music lingo she did know.

“Maybe change the tempo to make it sound happier more…high pitched?”

Sammy seemed to sorta understand “You know music?”

“Only a little I can play guitar decently…”

Sammy shrugged at the realization

“I change my hobbies often so…yeah…” She awkwardly stopped that thought

Jack was looking between the two surprised they were getting along a little, and it was interesting. So his next thoughts were

“Can you sing?” Jack got closer to Mary with his sheet music

“…uuuuh” Mary shrugged, putting her needles down “ I could give it a shot?”

Mary sung the lyrics softly and tried to seem like she knew what she was doing

“I take it singing isn’t one of your hobbies?” Jack joked making Mary huff pouting

“Well it’s nice enough” Sammy mumbled

“…thank you?” she said trying not to sound a little offended

“Then again this song isn’t really for you, so when we have a song for you we’ll practice.”

Mary raised an eyebrow at the statement, it later hit her during dinner that Sammy had invited her to play music with them.

Pro: She had a theory that Sammy didn’t hate her. She might have made some new friends!

Con: Maybe she was wrong and he did hate her but right now she could think of no con!

About 4 months since the girls had been hired, a lot of things had changed, even if their boss was still terrible, the building while also terrible had gotten bigger, but their relationships with the other employees had gotten better, Mary, Jack and Sammy had gotten pretty close with their jam sessions and even allowed her to play guitar when it was time to use it. Mary would give hugs and had planned to make clothes when it was a holiday, and Minnie while not as affectionate was a great conversationalist with the others.

A few months into the new year a young woman had been hired to do voices for the characters since according to Joey both the women were terrible with changing their voices, both grumbling that they weren’t that terrible…

“Hello, It’s nice to meet to capable…albeit it similar pretty women” Mary smiled shyly pushing her hair to the side, Minnie frowned at the flattery

Her name was Susie Campbell, Mary thought she was friendly enough when they interacted in the recording room but like with Joey, Minnie got a feeling from the woman, probably because she was with Joey far more than any person in Minnie’s opinion should be.

That however was all Minnie got from Susie, she overall seemed to be a happy person who had a certain passion for her work that Minnie admired, playing a ton of the background characters that Mary nor Minnie could do. Even gave them some tips on how to change their voices, and get better at it.

After two months there was a new character for Susie to voice over, Alice Angel.

Mary was happy for her new friend, Minnie secretly hopped that meant Mary Mirror would be on screen more often, Mary Mirror was basically an everyman, the one you gave the background jobs to, the one who would switch sides depending on the episode; that is what she’d created her for in a way, since Mary herself tended to reflect the people she was around or whatever hobby she was doing that day bringing out the best in others, it was kind of obnoxious how she couldn’t stick to one hobby but it was also what made Mary herself. Even though it was how Minnie had written her she still wanted Mary more on the screen.

She wondered, if Joey ever felt like this since he created the characters, the idea made her skin crawl with disgust that they were in any single way alike.

Mary and Minnie had also watched what they hopped was a romance since they had once up in the projectionist room seen something amazing:

Both women had squinted to see if they weren’t seeing things

Sammy was…smiling?

When they saw that, they both broke out into smiles that took up the majority of their faces

There was no way they were going to let this slip through the cracks

“I’m going to tell him” Minnie smirked like a dork

“Don’t you dare!” Mary slapped her sisters shoulder

Mary wasn’t per say overshadowed but she still kinda took a backseat to Alice especially in the recording room since it seemed Alice too priority, which did annoy Minnie when drawing the scenes, especially when Susie started to sound like she thought Alice was better than Mary when she hadn’t even been on screen for very long! She wasn’t even done with her voiced lines yet!

“I think you’re overreacting…” Mary said after a few hours of complaining at home

“No I’m not!”

“She’s just happy to have a toon she connects to” Mary tried to calm her down

“That’t not an excuse to be rude! Yes Alice could be big like Sammy said, but so can you!”

Mary beamed shyly flattered at Minnie

“And if she’d rude and goes to interviews she’ll most likely ruin Alice before she’s even on the screen”

Mary decided for now this was a probable lost cause with her argument, so she just went to bed, leaving Minnie to fume

Minnie hopped that Susie got her comeuppance for being such a prick.

Minnie was walking down the hall trying to find another route to keep the papers clean

Rounding the corner, she suddenly heard muffled talking, which was strange since no one was around here, and rarely came this way, she saw a door starting to open and hid behind the corner.

She saw Susie adjusting her buttons, with Joey coming out behind her, Minnie suddenly hated Joey a lot more than before, but thinking about Mary and how much they both needed these jobs stopped her from running to slap his stupid head off.

Minnie couldn’t even speak to Susie, she was pretty sure she’d blurt out something that would get them both fired, but now every time Joey got close to Mary, she’d get in-between them.

There would be no more of Joey flirting with Mary, telling her she was pretty as a flower or that Mary and Mary Mirror would be going places, if he thought he could get away with it, he was dead wrong.

Mary might get mad at her for being rude, but she’d rather be seen as rude than Joey doing the same thing to Susie to Mary.

He could go screw himself!

“You know you shouldn’t trust him” Minnie said when she got Susie alone once

Susie looked offended “What are you scared that I’ll be better than your stupid little mirror”

Minnie would let that one slide, she’d let a lot of things slide right now

“No. I’m scared for you, you’ve lost weight, you’re a shade paler than before, and I get the feeling Joey has something to do with this!”

“Joey is going to make me a star!”

“Who cares!? You were happy when people liked Alice! What happened to that! Now you just want to be some star that no one will know who you are!”

“That’s not true! No one will know who you are since you’re just a pathetic little animator! With just as pathetic of a character!”

Okay that hurt, Minnie’s frowned, trying very hard not to get angry and just punch Susie in the face, it’d certainly make her feel better, she didn’t understand; Susie was passionate about her work and was a good person at first, was being with Joey making her like this? Or was she becoming blind to how people were?

“I hope you get your comeuppance soon.” Minnie grrr-ed out, leaving without punching Susie in the face

“Minnie? What’s wrong?” Mary asked her crying sister as she hugged the taller woman

“Everyone I’d like you to meet you’re new co-worker, Alison Pendle”

Okay maybe not that kind of comeuppance, when Minnie wanted her to get it. There was an air of awkwardness, as Mary sat with her new co-star Allison Pendle, she was trying to great the other woman and be polite but the red heads felt too awkward to interact or bring up the incident in front of Susie who they hadn’t seen for a while, then again whenever they did see her she glared at them like they were an enemy to her.

Minnie just growled back, pulled her sister to the other side of the road so they can get to work.

“Did I do something to make you not like me?” Allison asked Mary as she was about to exit the recording room, so Allison could voice Alice

Mary looked at Allison, she considers it, Susie had been a real jerk before she left, but everyone agreed, Susie hadn’t deserved that, so to try to make friends with the new VA seemed like a real betrayal to but since no one had seen Susie for a few days she guessed she should at least talk to the woman.

“No, Ma’am you didn’t it’s just that…” Mary looked to the side, thinking

Allison looked curiously at Mary, her lips quirked up into a reassuring small smile.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll talk about it when I get done with the script. Deal?”

Mary considered Allison’s words, if she was going to be Mary’s co-star now, then Mary might as well get along with her.

“Okay” Mary mumbled bashfully

Putting a new spring in Allison’s step when they exchanged goodbye’s

The literal moment that Mary sat down to do some work is when Allison showed up:

“Hello”

Mary looked behind her to see who it was, Allison stood in the door way leaning against the frame, Mary couldn’t help but think about Minnie doing that

“Hello Allison” Mary gave a small shy smile to the woman, pushing her hair behind her ear

Allison raised her eyebrow, she’d noticed that everyone used her first name despite being new

“Why are you using my first name? Isn’t that a little rude?” She asked

“oh, my apologizes, it’s a habit Joey has encouraged in all the employees to make us closer, he’ll encourage you as well. Its honesty a nice idea since I feel closer to everyone” She babbled slightly since she was nervous, twiddling her thumbs more vigorously

“Oh that’s why” Allison crossed her arms thinking

There was a moment of silence that made Mary look back and forth awkwardly

“Did you need something?” She blurted

Allison shrugged “I just wanted to get to know my co-star a little better, and wonder why everyone’s giving me strange looks, and you seemed like the one least likely to snap at me”

“oh I um see” Mary put her hands in her lap

“So why is there so much tension?” Allison stood a little closer to Mary

Mary scratched her cheek and decided it was better she knew

“Well the previous star, Susie had voiced a few episodes and everyone was pretty used to her, but you came in like…really suddenly Joey had literally told no one until you came in a few weeks ago”

When Mary had said that, Allison’s face instantly understood but then she frowned deeply

“Wait you said she voiced a few episodes?”

“At least three but she’d been here for three months”

“Why would he change the voice actor so suddenly?”

“I don’t know, maybe he didn’t like how Susie sounded and didn’t want to tell her”

Allison wondered if Mary wasn’t the brightest bulb here

“And-“ Mary began getting Allison’s attention “I didn’t really ask since I really want to keep this job” Mary twiddled her thumbs again looking to the side sadly

Allison shook her head, she looked at what Mary had been working on earlier in the day, looking for anything to really get off the subject

“Is this Miss Mirror?” Allison points to the page, of Mary Mirror putting a hat on a stand and putting on a bartender uniform.

“Oh yes! I was just about to get back to the animation”

“She’s cute” Allison commented looking back at the actual person then held in her laughter that Mary was wearing the same clothes today

“What’s so funny?” Mary asked curiously

“Nothing” Allison chuckled “Are her and Alice friends?”

“It depends on the episode” Mary said concentrating on where her next line should go next

“Can I make some suggestions for the next episode?”

It took Mary a moment to let the question sink in “Of course!”

Minnie came in later to see Allison chatting with Mary as she drew, they noticed the semi-stunned sister

“Minnie! Allison’s been giving me tons of ideas for the next few episodes! Can we do them!?”

Minnie blinked at the quick sketch of Alice and Mary in matching black dresses

“I figured the only other female character could share the spotlight for a bit.”

Minnie decided she liked Allison

Pro: Mary had a new friend and she was so cool!

Con: She had no idea what happened to susie… She really hoped the woman was ok

Mary, Jack and Sammy were having their Jam session for the next cartoon, Allison was watching entertained, sometimes humming the tune. Minnie was at the door thinking of a good idea that Joey wouldn’t agree with but she was thinking about it. Kind of memorizing the positions

She wasn’t interested in the tune, Minnie noticed.

Minnie saw that Allison was focusing on Sammy, she knew that look on Allison’s face a little too well, another layer of awkwardness was now forming at the fact Susie was no longer there, but Minnie shrugged it off since as Mary said ‘sammy deserves someone great!’ and if Allison was that, great, but now Minnie wanted to go buy some shot gun ammo if Susie thought they’d set them up. Which they weren’t, just silently watching and cheering for them

They’d gotten a few cartoons done now, but Joey hadn’t released any of the ones with Mary as a Main character, so Mary Mirror still was just in the background. And the ones with her as a front character also was getting overshadowed.

Minnie had to pay Norman just to watch her own cartoons, with her own character. Mary would watch too but she kept reassuring the younger twin that Mary Mirror would someday see the light of day as they watched the butcher gang carry Mary and Alice to their secret hideout.

Minnie hopped so, truly but she hates Joey and she gets the feeling he hates her guts.

Letting out a huff, she didn’t realize the music had stopped when it did.

“You’re all really good” Allison clapped

Sammy let’s out a huff like ‘of course’, Mary just put her hair behind her ear, Jack smiled.

Minnie couldn’t help but smile at the group, they were really adorable, and hard working. She wanted with every bone in her body to show how hard working everyone in the building was, and to her it was to get one of the cartoons featuring all the characters out. If joey was going to screw her over, he shouldn’t be allowed to screw over his own company!

Minnie suddenly had an even better idea, she runs off, before she could leave to go home with Mary.

Mary waited with Allison outside, since the other woman didn’t think Mary should be alone outside, especially with it snowing.

Finally Minnie came out looking really shell shocked

“Minnie? Minnie?” Mary waved in front of her face

“Is she ok?” Allison asked Mary

“I don’t know” Mary was concerned

Mary convinced Allison to help her carry Minnie back home

When they got Minnie home, she just silently got dressed for bed and just laid on her bed, that is until she woke up Mary in the middle of the night.

“I got Joey to agree to air Mary Mirror!”

“That’s great Minnie, but can’t you save it until morning?”

Only privately and for tickets, but Minnie persuaded him to let her air it at the one place Minnie knew it would at least be appreciated.

“The Purple Pig?” Mary said with this very obvious annoyance, she was very angry

“That speak easy that you not only got persuaded to get a gold tooth but almost. Gambled. Your savings away”

Minnie would let Mary be angry for now, since she did have reason to be.

“It’s not like that this time, I’m not going drinking or a winning streak, I’m going there to really do something…good…for the studio” Minnie didn’t like how that sounded but it was the only way she could think of to convince her

“That sounds like you convinced Joey to let you go drinking and gambling”

“No Mary, I mean it. I’ll even invite your friends!”

Mary looked over at the door not knowing how anyone would take a speak-easy, hell it makes her nervous that Joey knows Minnie is like this

“Not your work friends” Minnie said. “Your old friends, I want them to see Mary Mirror and all the other characters”

“Alice, Bendy and Boris” Mary scolded slightly.

“I know their names” Minnie huffs “The point is, we’re going to create buzz so that Joey will let Mary Mirror on screen more often.”

“Won’t it just be promoting the cartoons in general?” Mary pointed out

Minnie huffed out like she was frustrated “Can we go do that or not? Cause last I checked I’m a grown woman and you’re not my mother.”

Mary let out her own huff, she too was frustrated “Only if I see no drink in your hand and no money.”

“Fine, Fine. I’ll give you my wallet and my word. Deal?”

Mary didn’t know if Minnie’s ‘word’ was worth much but her wallet was a start.

“Yeah, Deal” The sister shook on it.

How they got Norman to lend them a projection was beyond them. But he gave them the warning like two children “You bust my projector. I’ll bust both of your asses!”

Which was honestly fair enough, they broke the equipment they could never afford to replace it, which was why Minnie was in charge of it, with Mary’s butterfingers they were almost guaranteeing they’d owe some money.

“So what’s the password this time?” Mary asked

“I’ll tell him the password” Minnie told her, arms empty for once today she’d gotten there earlier with Norman since he didn’t trust her with his equipment, which again was fair. He however now knew, that one of the girls, most likely Minnie knew the owner of said speak easy

Said woman who he suspected didn’t seem to care.

As they walked down the slightly damp street it almost getting dark, they spotted one of Mary’s friends.

“Larry!” Mary called to the bigger man, running over to him, he opened his arms for the incoming hug that he saw coming, he spun her around as best he could, she was a good head taller than him.

“Mary! It’s wonderful to see ya darlin’!” She giggled at him “It’s wonderful to see you too!” she said

Minnie caught up to her running sister

“And wonderful to see you as well” He gave Minnie a hug too, making it a group hug

“Larry, you’re crushing me!” Minnie joked, making fake coughing sounds. He released both of them, laughing “I apologize! I suppose I don’t know my own strength!” He flexed jokingly making both the women stifle their laughter

“Did you wait out here?” Mary asked

“Well, Yes I wanted to be sure you both made it” Larry scratched his head

“we’re both here, let’s just go inside.” Minnie walked past them, and up to the door giving a secret knock

Larry and Mary came up behind her just as the peep hole slid open

“Password.”

“Swine fly.” Minnie said, the two looked at each other, raising an eyebrow at such a strange password

The man on the other side closed the peep hole and opened the door, Mary recognized the guy from last time she had to drag Minnie home.

He stared at them as they passed, he tipped her hat and he nodded at her

“Where my hoodlums at!”

Most of the people cheered and called Minnie’s name, Mary couldn’t help but wonder if she was hanging out at this place too much, not that these guys weren’t bad influences, some where actually sweethearts but in a place like this it made Mary slap her face

Mary spotted her friends, she waved at them, which they returned. Larry and her joined them

Mary pulled both of them in a hug since they were both small enough for her to do that

“Scarlett! Gary! It’s so wonderful to see you both!”

Gary sourly grumbled, Scarlett pat Mary’s arm

She let them both go “How’s the baby?” Mary asked Scarlett

“Rose’s all good girlo, I love her, but mommy needs a night out by herself. Also I figured her and Daddy needed a bonding night” Scarlett chuckled

Gary cut their conversation short “So you’ve been hold up in some studio with your sister, doing who knows what in a stained dress, and looking a shade paler than usual, to be blunt; hope your cartoons are good”

Scarlett slapped him on the back of the head for his bluntness, he was going to make Mary cry! She could already see the tears prick at the mention of ‘ink stained dress’

“What this tackless baboon is trying to say is we’re worried, we hardly hear from you in days and when it’s about your job, the stuff we do hear makes the place sound like a health hazard, I know the job market and money is bad right now, but I-“

Larry and Gary coughed

“-we. Don’t want you to go into a far too early grave” Scarlett finished

“And genuinely hope you’re doing a good job” she added

Mary twiddled her thumbs “Well sometimes they’re good, but with the rushed deadlines and the ink always making us redo it, we try our best but sometimes they do end up crummy”

Gary let out a huff looking sympathetic “ah terrible bosses, can’t work with them” He pat her back, he too had to deal with a awful boss, he was thankful that he wasn’t on the level with Mary and Minnie had to deal with “Maybe you could sue him later”

Mary flicked Gary’s hand making him mumble “ow”

“Don’t even joke you jerk” She giggled putting her fingers around a few of his own

They all gave each other smiles

“All right hoodlums! I hope you’re ready for these cartoons! Me and My sister worked on these so we hope you like them!”

Minnie jumped out from in front of the projector and gramophone, as a friend who had a little knowledge on the projector played play, as Minnie joined Mary and her friends, Salty joined them as well.

“We got this” Minnie pushed Mary with her knuckles making her giggle

Everyones attention went to the cheerful music and Bendy’s face coming up, now only time could tell

It had been a pretty good turnout, despite the animation having some of the ‘crummy’ ones in it, everyone laughed when they were supposed to, cheer when they were supposed to, and laughed when they noticed a very adult joke in one of them.

When the cartoon would end for an intermission, Mary and Minnie would get pats on the backs for their good work, since they did know most everyone here save for a few.

Before they both knew it, the cartoons were over. The twins gave each other a smile at the successful night.

Mary’d even been talked to by a few beautiful people, once a man and woman back to back.

“D-did it just get hotter in here?” She asked Minnie who was laughing at Mary waving her face and pulling her collar to let the heat out

It was a great night, that they couldn’t wait to tell about the next day, even if Joey didn’t agree to air them again for a while

#Ink stained Mirror #batim #batim fanfic #chapter 2 #//I make no claim to the characters or overall setting save for Mary and Minnie #(3/5)#Music room #norman polk #allison pendle #Mary and Minnie McConnel #Minnie and Mary #oc #Bendy and the Ink Machine

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thescannerdarkly · 6 years

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Matthew's on the phone, as he always is. Rosie makes a joke by calling him our Mother of Perpetual help; Manny snorts derisively then, after a pause, mutters a rushed prayer. i've seen him by candlelight slowly fingering his rosary, so his half-hearted atheism always seemed childish to me. we had taken three caps of powdered mushrooms each, pawned off on us by some friend of Rosie's that was always hanging around smoking pills out of tinfoil pipes. she would smoke until she couldn't follow conversation anymore, and you'd see her sunken eyes start to wander about the room, tracing a distant path none of us could see.

eventually she would begin tearing off little bits of tinfoil and folding them into elaborate origami figures of shapes that seemed unfamiliar to us, then trounce off with whoever had the most downers on them by the end of the night. one night- it was cold, freezing, so it must have been around January, before Rosie had her episode- when Manny and i were wired, shaking to the touch, she sold us the caps under the guise of being a homemade mixture of benzos guaranteed to bring peaceful sleep- or at least an end to the endless anxiety, so we could pass into that transcendent Zen of slow brain death that comes after forty hours and too many amphetamines. i remembered watching her flow away like water, led by the hand away by some waifish deadhead that Terry knew who always had good hash, all long hair and skirt and whispering cloth disappearing into the woodwork.

manny and i took a cap each, then split the third; outside it began to rain, and the house began its familiar cacophony of creaking wood and percussive window panes. Terry came downstairs and shuffled about in his institutional flip-flops and a box of matches, lighting the many candles that he had stored in various makeshift containers around the house.

within a half hour it hit us, that shit Southern cow-pasture mushroom nausea, and we were both overtaken with horrible pains in our stomachs; but of course we hadn't eaten, so we could only retch on bone-dry stomachs as our legs began to feel weak. i thought of crying out to Terry, to warn him to seek help, that i had been poisoned by some malevolent bitch who flowed like water and left with that guy you know who sells hash- but i knew the only response that my exclamation would warrant was an annoyed thumping of Terry's sandalwood cane on the floor above, as i called out that sort of thing while in the depths of chemical fever dreams perhaps twice a week. Manny seemed to be choking, grasping with his hands at his throat, and i wondered if this is how we would be found in the morning- two purple and skinny things, covered in piss and bile, left to die through a learned tolerance for their insanity. i remember thinking that it was at least fortuitous that we hadn't eaten anything in days, so there wouldn't be much in our bowels to release when we died. i found the idea hilarious, and i reached out to Manny with crawling, oddly elongated fingers to tap him and tell him what i had thought of, but he bat my hand away with surprising aggression. Reaching further around his neck, he pulled out a crucifix that had been hidden beneath his clothing for God knows how many months, and, pressing it to his forehead, keeled over and faceplanted into the carpet, ass in the air. by this point i had entirely forgotten about my impending death by bitch poisoning and began to laugh hysterically; outside, the storm grew in intensity, and i felt it was God laughing along with me.

any attempt to stir Manny was met with catatonia, so i left him be in the shag carpeting- if he were dead there was nothing i could do for him now, and if he were alive he would feel suitably embarrassed with time- and stumbled off to my room. in the middle of the night i was roused by a particularly loud shock of thunder, and went down the hall to the bathroom; passing by his room, the door open a crack, i peered in, and saw him fingering a rosary by candlelight. the image held a strange sort of belonging for me, so i lingered; i thought, perhaps if i stay here long enough, in the presence of holiness, i'll begin to see it, too- whatever light that laid behind life that these people believed in so strongly. i wondered how the world might seem if i could see that light shining through everything. but the thought was interrupted by the cry of my bladder, so i turned away. in the unclean yellow light and dull porcelain of the cramped upstairs bathroom, i thought for a moment that i saw a light shining in me- it came out of me, and splashed into the toilet bowl. i wondered if perhaps it ran through all the fluids in my body, in my blood and in my aqueous humor, and maybe that's why i couldn't see that same light- because the receptors in my eyes had already tuned it out, suffused as they were in its omnipresent rays. it was a hopeful idea, and left a warm feeling in my stomach; but i could tell it was only the lingering afterglow of those shit mushrooms, so i returned to bed feeling contentedly unenlightened.

lying underneath thin cotton sheets and listening to the relaxed patter of rain against the windowpane, i decided to forgive that bitch of flowing water. she had done us dirty, i figured, but we had all done somebody dirty at some point, and if we had could never again rely on those people for a quick fix in a hurry, we'd all be done for. there might be a day when there's no more speed left in the county, i reasoned, and when the withdrawals came on and life began to reassume that dull sheen, i'd rather a few caps of poisoned mushrooms than nothing at all. i never told Manny about seeing his momentary lapse of religion, and he never mentioned it to me. it seemed to be one of those things that we all understood were better left under the surface. inside all of us large objects of this type floated in an endless murk, and we had all dedicated our lives to remaining above it, refusing to break the surface tension lest the world erupt and the murk consume everything. like Rosie and her scars, or Terry and the shotgun he kept in his bedframe, it was easier to just accept these things as a byproduct of the events that led us here than to consider them a part of ourselves that could be understood and shared with others.

Matthew's on the phone, as he always is, trying to rustle up a bag of something or other that he could pick up on the way back home. it might be for him, it might be for any number of other foreign agents, but regardless Matthew would end up richer for it. Rosie makes a joke by calling him Our Mother of Perpetual Help, but nobody laughs, afraid it might trigger the memory in Matthew's strung-out brain of some debt of theirs better left forgotten. i'm lucky enough to be here, i think to myself; there's no reason to test the waters and end up on somebody's bad side, be left back at the house with the latest batch of couch-surfers and pushers. i was only there because of Rosie; she had recently refused to continue interacting with any humans outside of her familiar group of us basers, for fear that they would discover that she was not the painfully skinny Hispanic woman of angles and bones that she appeared to be, but instead an elaborate psuedomechanical facsimile, designed by aliens to infiltrate human society and learn of its ways pending a future invasion.

she wasn't an android- she was, to the best of Terry's knowledge, a paranoid schizophrenic- but she was the only one among the core group with a valid driver's license, and thus was a necessary member of the expedition team. however, her refusal to interact with others meant that there was an open spot, and Rosie had vouched for me to come along. of the remaining three of us in the van, Manny was only along at Rosie's bequest for moral support, and due to his unfortunate birth, was underage and had too many face tattoos to make it past the faceless heavyset security guard that would inevitably be at the entrance, full of straight disapproval and backed by the full authority of the FoodMart corporate legal department- which led, through twisted marionette-string like mechanisms and assemblies, inevitably to the State, and its everconsuming gaping maw that swallowed fresh living faces into a deep labyrinth of concrete and metal and sickly yellow paint. Matthew had the relatively-freshly-shaven face and easy smile of a straight, but was barred by Terry from handling any group funds for fear of them vanishing into Matthew's gap-toothed smile and impulsive spending on impromptu business ventures. occasionally he would show up with some useful acquisition- a new microwave, or a couple boxes full of expired cigarettes- but usually that money would disappear, and return in the form of some favor or debt collected by Matthew in the far-flung future. Terry was lame, and fearful of recognition; so the responsibility fell onto me, along with ninety-six dollars of petty cash and a list in Terry's neatly elegant cursive.

#trying something new #prose #short stories #alt lit

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yoshimickster · 7 years

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RWBY-Volume 5 Ep 4 Recap (Spoilers)

We start the ep off with refreshing the FUCKING website three times because Rooster Teeth broke itself AGAIN! Pay five bucks a month for this and its still buggy dammit.

1:32 But the episode REALLY starts off with Yang and her new bestest buddy gap-tooth McGee riding her not-a-dirtbike through the forest! Seriously their different bikes, that things gonna get...clogged or something(Yoshimickster the nerd does not know how bikes work).

1:47

Yang:How much further pal?

Gappy: This should just about do it*Grins*.

Oh you dumb mother fucker, if this is a trap-

2:03 LADIES AND GENTLEMEN-our NEW episode meme-SHADE TIPPING YANG!

She then takes off her robe while you filthy PERVERTS out there wished she’d take out all her clothes-UNTIL-

2:17-ITS A TRAP! WHICH-Yang of course predicted because COME ON-you think someone who got her arm chopped off would be ANYTHING but paranoid?!

2:30 Gappy:HAHA-you fell RIGHT into my trap!

Yang:Oh no, I totally trusted you.

Gappy: And you’ll NEVER get to our bandit base RIGHT up that way!

Yang: Oh no, that was exactly what I wanted to know, how unfortunate.

Gappy:...you planned this didn’t you?

Yang: Yyyyyyyyup.

Momoko-lookalike: DAMMIT STEVE-after those two got drunk on watch last night management has been on our asses!

3:00

Gappy: Okay, her bracelet transformed, that’s nothing, BECAUSE I HAVE A GUN WITH A POINT ON THE END!

3:16

Gappy:...AND she has a gun hand, BUT I’m sure my competent crew of bandits WILL defeat her!

3:52 PAHA-it fucking jams after ONE shot! By the creator gods Branwen clan, what are your HIRING requirements? Like stealing shit and that’s it? No vetting for skill? I bet I could get hired by them...I WISH I could get hired by them, damn I want a real job.

4:06 Took out ALL those guys and all it gave her was a bit of the damn shakes, WILD!

Gappy: Raven is gonna be SO mad at us.

Momoko-lookalike: What do you mean US, Mr.Planman.

4:32

Gappy: AND SHE’S THE BOSSES DAUGHTER TOO?! I AM SO DEAD!

Momoko-lookalike:YUP-just you, because WE got beat up by a Grimm and didn’t try to rob the bosses daughter.

Blade-guy: YUP-a BIG scary Grimm.

Gappy: You guys are dicks.

4:36 CUT TO-Ruby assaulting Oscar Pine! I kid, its just training-BUT-it is nice seeing Ruby PUNCH something for once, vary it up girl!

And I’m AWAITING the cutesy fan-art of these two fighting, as logic dictates.

5:16 Dude, Oscar, ya GOTTA use your aura, what are you, volume one Jaune Arc?

5:21 AND Ozpin’s behind the wheel-SHITS GOIN’ DOWN YO!

5:56 ...and he owns her in like, LESS than a minute, hot damn he skilled.

6:30 Oh boy, their talking about semblances, Nora shut up, Nora shut up-

6:50 Jaune:I...can’t do it-

Ruby: Oh crap, POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT TIME!

CRISIS averted.

7:36

Nora: Oh, struck by lightning, didn’t die-CRAZY-Thursday.

...that makes the absolute MOST sense for her character.

8:05 BACK TO THE BANDITS!

Momoko: This is SO degrading.

Bladeguy: I’ve never had a PITY hostage before.

Yang: Oh please, I’m sure PLENTY of girls took pity on you.

8:28

AND THERE THEY ARE PLAYING CARDS-get to work you morons!

8:36

...WAIT AN AURA CRACKING MINUTE-Weiss is still in a cage? You can get another weapon girl, your sister has money! I say sister because...yeah fuck Jacques up the dick.

8:49 We then see her mini-knight...chip away at the metal cage? Damn, she is REALLY taking her time with this isn’t she? I’d have gone full on Titan mode and layed WASTE to the bandit camp. I mean what, they only have like what TWO real fighters and a bunch of scrubs?

9:08

Raven: All right, who woke me up from my hangover na-*sees Yang*...ooooooooooooooooh shit.

9:30 That burning pit in your stomach? That’s the intensifying RAGE we all feel every time Raven’s condescending ass speaks down to Yang-GRAH-I just want her to die!

10:26 TWISTS AND TURNS-she sought out her mom FOR Ruby! BEST BIG SIS EVER!

11:17...wait her portal deal is...A SEMBLANCE?! Damn, this show really DOES follow X-men rules don’t it?

12:42 Oh crap, music is happening-FIGHT TIME! Also Vernal still has Weiss’ Myrtenaster, which she is TOTALLY going to keep forever. Totally.

13:32

Weiss:...Yang?

Yang: Weiss?

Weiss: WHAT UP GIRL?!

Yang: HEY GIRL-just punching bandits like a boss.

Weiss: That’s cool, that’s cool, can you get my sword from that short-hair bitch? I desperately wanna leave.

13:46

Weiss: Actually fuck that-BAD ASS WOW LOOKING KNIGHT! INYUKSHUK!

14:42

Raven: Give the girl her weapon back!

Vernal: But mooooooooooooooom, I wanted to SMITE them!

Weiss: And I wanted to KILL you all!

Yang: This is SO typical mom, won’t come to my birthday, you kidnap one of my possible girlfriends, won’t let me fight-WHY CAN’T YOU LET ME BE HAPPY?!

15:10 FREEZERBURN HUG-there ya go shippers! All while...the knight just watches...go away dude, no fight here!

All in all a good mix of exposition and action, also can’t wait to find out why Raven betrayed Ozpin saying “He’s not what you think he is” and what-not. ALSO-we can ALL agree that Yang and Weiss would’ve taken out that whole Bandit camp easily-INCLUDING-little miss Spring and gloomy miss teleport pants.

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baekhyunspizza · 7 years

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Emergency Room

Member: Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: A late-night mishap lands you and an unexpected guest a visit to the emergency room.

“Another test, honey?” Ms. Lee asks with a sympathetic frown as I slide a tub of pistachio ice cream and a pack of Oreos across the counter. Her family owned gas station was conveniently located a two blocks from my dorm at the university, and it serves as my go-to consolement when I fall victim to the errors of Mr. Ko.

“I just can’t catch break in my physics class. And I definitely didn’t need such a low test grade so close to Christmas. Mr. Ko couldn’t teach if his life depended on it,” I reply, the defeat clear in my voice. I actually went into the class feeling good about the material. But one poor exam and a fat red F later, I quickly learned that acceleration and velocity were not my forte.

“Well, you tell Mr. Ko that if he keeps this up, he’s gonna have a very angry Hana Lee to deal with,” she says with a southern drawl, a teasing smile reaching her eyes.

“I’ll make sure to relay the message. He’ll be quaking in his New Balance sneakers,” I laugh. Offering a small thanks to Ms. Lee, I grab my change and take my plastic bag from the counter. I check to make sure my barely-functioning keychain is securely attached to my belt loop, frowning at the little keys hanging onto the misshapen and cracked plastic ring. I wave once more in Ms. Lee’s direction before shuffling out of the store, a subtle chime indicating my exit.

Small snowflakes begin to descend from the sky and I quietly thank myself for deciding to drive to the store instead of walk. Although the store is a mere two blocks from my dorm, I have enough street smarts to know that walking by myself at this time of night would be a stupid idea. That, and I’ve seen just enough episodes of Criminal Minds to make me incredibly paranoid. Just as I mentally applaud myself for my wise thinking, a warm, large hand covers my shoulder and I immediately stop in my tracks.

“Miss,” his deep voice says.

This is it, I think.

It was actually happening. I knew my luck would run out eventually. I am going to die at as a broke college student, wearing my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and my mom’s Levis from 1997. Holding a tub of pistachio ice cream.

Why couldn’t I have an honorable death, like saving children from an oncoming bus or rescuing puppies from a burning building? I’d even settle for some sort of freak accident. But dying on a late night ice cream run is a little ridiculous. It sounds like something from a flopped murder mystery novel. I can see the newspaper headlines now. Girl Dies Buying Ice Cream from Abysmal Gas-Station. I can’t let myself die in such a humiliating situation. I have too much dignity. Clenching my jaw and balling up my fists, I wheel around on my heel and aim directly for the middle of his face.

“What are you doi-” he asks with wide eyes, not being able to finish his question before my knuckles collide with his nose. Why don’t they emphasize how much socking someone in the face can hurt in the movies? I knew it’d sting a little, but I didn’t expect for my knuckles to feel like they were in split in half underneath my skin. Shaking out my hand to ease the pain, I look back to the man and see fresh blood gushing from his nose. His long, lanky legs stumble back and he bends over the waist, trying to avoid bleeding on his dark jeans and black converse. It drips onto the pavement in small crimson specks and I feel proud.

Yeah, I did that. Go me.

“Serves you right for trying to touch me, jerk,” I yell in his direction before hurriedly reaching for the handle to the driver’s door of my car.

“You dropped this!” he hollers. The man waves a small object in his hand and I squint as an attempt to make out its shape. It catches the light of a nearby street lamp and glints a metallic pink color. Crap. Looking down at the keychain in my hand, I notice there’s only four keys instead of five. He begins to walk towards me with his palms outstretched in front of him. The universal sign of surrender.

“I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you. You just dropped your key while you were fumbling with your bags so I was gonna return it to you,” he said, carefully pinching the petite key in between his thumb and index finger to avoid dirtying it with any blood. Up close, I see that he’s not a middle aged pervert. He’s probably only a year or two older than me. Wavy brown hair covers his forehead and his big eyes are wide with fear of being struck again.

There have only been two other times in my life when I’ve been this mortified. Once, when I was five and had an accident on the first day of kindergarten out of nerves, and again when Bryce Taylor rejected me at the spring formal in eighth grade. But this….This might top the list. I probably just broke the nose of the guy.

“I-I can’t believe I just did that I’m so sorry-” The words cannot come out of my mouth fast enough as I rush up to him and look up to examine his wounds.

“Do you have anything to stop the blood?” he asks, turning his head to the side and spitting out crimson from his mouth. I rummage through my purse for anything that could possibly pause the continuous stream, but it’s a lost cause.

“I don’t-I don’t have anything. Oh God it’s getting worse,” I start to panic as the flow seems to be getting heavier.

“I’m driving you to the hospital.”

“No, it should stop soon. I’ll be fine really,” he says looking at the ground, eyes widening at the large burgundy patches on the concrete.

“No, we’re going. I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if I just leave you here with a broken nose in the snow,” I insist, leading him to my car. I unlock the passenger door and he ducks in, his height proving to be problematic inside my 1994 Honda Accord. Sliding into my seat, I ignite the engine and the vehicle roars to life.

“I never got your name,” I say turning towards him.

“I’m Chanyeol,” he replies, leaning his head back against the headrest.

“Y/N. Sorry for breaking your nose,” I say sheepishly. Snow continues to fall outside, but not heavy enough to making driving difficult.

“So...are you a student at the university?” he asks, trying to break the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m surprised you’re being so cordial to me. But yes, I am.”

“I figured I should get to know the person who’s driving me to the hospital. Maybe we can even be friends.”

“But I broke your nose.”

“I’m not one to hold grudges,” he says, and I laugh at his playful banter. I silently thank God for making him such a friendly individual.

“Maybe. You should have my number, so you can send me any information about the hospital bill. I’d feel awful if you paid for it yourself since this entire thing is my fault.”

“You think I’m gonna make you pay for the bill. I didn’t peg you for a jokester.’

“I’m serious, I’d really feel better if you had it,” I insist, giving him my number in case he needs it.

“Hey, Chanyeol?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you try not to get any blood on my seats? They’re leather.”

“You broke my nose.”

“Touché.”

“Thank you, Dr. Nam. I would say I hope to see you again soon, but that wouldn’t exactly be the truth. At least, I wouldn’t want to visit again under circumstances like this,” Chanyeol says, shaking hands with the middle aged physician.

“It’s my job, son. Maybe you’ll find a better way to approach young women at night,” Dr. Nam replies with a smile.

“Fair enough,” Chanyeol laughs.

I learned a couple of things about Chanyeol as we sat in the urgent care waiting room. He was a law student that grew up near the coast but moved to our small town this year to start settling down. He’s the only one in his family that decided to pursue their education and go to college. He’s also an expert charmer.

“So I never asked, but what was a pretty girl like you doing in a place like that old gas station?” he says, nudging my elbow with his. I look up from the magazine I’ve been reading to pass the time as we wait for his name to be called for a consultation with Dr. Bynes. I roll my eyes at his lame attempt to hit on me, but I smile at the corniness of it all.

“Failed test. Needed some saturated fat and excessive sugar to ease the hurt. And what’s a pretty boy like you doing walking by himself late at night? Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger?”

“I’d like to not become strangers.”

“I ruined your nose.”

“Oh please. We both know my real moneymaker is my smile,” He flashes a thousand dollar grin at me and I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Chanyeol asks, confused by my source of amusement.

“It’s just an odd sight. You smiling as your nose is broken and dried blood running down your face. That, and your tooth”

“I’m known for my nice set of chompers.”

“I chipped it.”

“You did not,” he says, reaching for my phone and checking his front teeth in the reflection on my screen.

“Guess the nose wasn’t enough.”

“You know,” he starts, “you’re making it really hard to flirt with you.”

“So what do you think? Could I pull off this look?” Chanyeol asks as we walk back to my car. His nose is covered in white bandages and all of the dried blood has been removed from his face.

“I don’t know, Chip. The whole mummy vibe isn’t really working in your favor,” I reply, pointing to the gauze.

“Chip?”

“Your tooth.”

“Does that make you Mrs. Potts?”

“No way. She’s old.”

“Well, I mean based on those jeans, I wouldn’t have a hard time believing you’re a mom of four,” I hit his arm and scowl at him.

“Hey now, I don’t need you breaking my arm too,” he says as he pretends to wince in pain and rubs the spot where I hit him.

“Dork.”

He just smiles, chipped tooth and all.

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luucarii · 7 years

Text

Stay With Me S’More?

sooo abby ( @pastango ) got me into a camping au and this fic happened.

it’s a little short but eh we needed some fluff after the monstrosity of angst last fic

enjoy!

“I still can’t believe he did that!” Lillie giggled, one hand over her mouth as she pointed to the picture on her phone. In said picture was Silvally, happily wading through the lake water as if he were a puppy.

“I thought Silvally was like some metal-dog thing, never guessed for a moment he’d like water.” Hau shrugged before reaching over to the fire excellerant. He looked to the bottle for a quick second before mischievous eyes turned to the small fire set up in the center of a circle. Before he could even manage to open the bottle, Gladion had come up from behind him and snatched it from him.

“Aw, come on Gladion!” Hau whined with an annoyed pout toward the blonde.

“Shut it, knowing you you’d put so much in that we’d all burn to death.” Gladion sighed before taking a seat next to Moon who was humming to herself while staring at the fire.

“Jeez, at least have some sort of faith in him,” Moon chimed in before narrowing her eyes at Hau and snickering, “Hau’s not entirely dumb.”

“Moon!” Hau hissed before crossing his arms.

“I’m just teasing.”

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive, Hau,” Lillie laughed poking at him lightly.

“Not you too Lillie!”

Hau groaned before slumping back in his chair, aimlessly kicking at the dirt.

Gladion perked up, pulling out a few plastic bags. Inside were a box of graham crackers, a box full of bars of chocolate and a large bag of marshmallows. “Are we ever going to make those s’mores? If not, I’m going to bed.”

Moon shoved him with her elbow and winked, “edgelord has a sweet tooth? Noted.”

“Shut up…” Gladion grabbed a nearby stick with a grumble, sliding on a marshmallow and holding it over the fire. Though it was nearly pitch black outside, the light of the fire could easily show the boy’s discomfort

Lillie reached for her own stick and marshmallow and giggled, “aw, Moon, you’ll make him blush.”

“You two just love teasing the guys, don’t you?” Hau ignoring the marshmallows and stuffing his face with chocolate.

Never again. Never would Gladion ever sleep in the same room, same bed, same vicinity as Hau. Not with his obnoxiously loud snoring and definitely not with his constant mumbling. The blonde, huddled in his own corner of the tent blanketed his ears with pillows attempting to drown out the noise and listen to the quiet crackling of the still campfire.

Though, it wasn’t as if Moon was any better off. Lillie, as quiet and timid and petite as she was, could be a martial artist in her sleep. Rolls and kicks and chops, Moon was worried she’d wake up with bruises. Lillie though, simply continued her assault with a lingering smile on her face. Arceus knows what she was dreaming about. After being fed up with the abuse, Moon slipped out of her tent, dragging her blanket behind her.

She slumped down in her chair with a sigh, eyeing the slowly dying fire. It was quiet but beautiful, almost entrancing. Watching the flames dance aimlessly as they attempted to take in oxygen while slowly burning the logs of wood and charcoal under it.

Unbeknownst to her, Gladion had silently taken the seat beside her and reached to wrap the blanket around him. He wordlessly rested his head against her shoulder and snaked his hand to intertwine with hers.

“Can we have Hau and Lillie bunk together tomorrow night?” He mumbled with a yawn.

Moon giggled, “would you really be okay with that? She is your little sister. Though, if Hau did try something, she’d probably knock him out in her sleep.”

“She wasn’t like that when we were little. The whole ordeal with Lusamine must’ve made her a bit more paranoid.” He felt her squeeze his hand.

“I’d still rather sleep with you.” Gladion leaned up to peck her cheek.

“I bet Hau’s a great cuddler.”

“Please don’t give me that image.”

She laughed quietly before a yawn wavered in her throat. “I wanna sleep but I’d rather not wake up with bruises.”

“Stay here with me some more then?” He wrapped his arms around her waist, “If anything, we’ll bring our blankets and sleep in the car.”

“You always have sometime up your sleeve.”

“Is that a yes?”

Moon drowsily nodded, “but not now. Let’s just sit here.”

#aarisfics #pokemon sun and moon #gladion x moon #gladion x player #fluff fluff #camping au

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demenior · 7 years

Text

A Story About Lions (Gen, Rated T-ish)

(mostly incoherent and completely non-linear)

[warnings for mentions of blood and robot body-horror]

Lance is sitting with Hunk, sprawled over one another with their legs tangled, up in Hunk��s bed, and licking a spoon of what passes for ice cream, when he stops and says,

“You can feel it too, right?”

Hunk is sucking on his spoon, letting the ice cream melt in his mouth layer by layer. He talks around it, “Feel what?”

“The Lions,” Lance says, and they both pause to let the importance of the title hang in the air, “it’s like there’s something there, in the corner of my eye. I can feel it, even when I’m not piloting.”

“I think you’re being paranoid,” Hunk laughs, “they’re just machines. Machines can’t be in your head.”

Lance frowns, considers the possibilities, and then shrugs, “Maybe. But isn’t it weird how Allura talks about them like they have personalities?”

——

Keith flies into space, untethered and without a way back. He’s freefalling— no, free flying. He’s spinning head over heels into oblivion.

His vision fills with red, of a machine moving with purpose and intent. Instinct makes him panic. A hundred thousand years of survival encased in his cells recognizes what this is and it is afraid. A predator, singling out prey that’s cut off from the herd, closing in on him and opening his jaws wide.

You must prove yourself worthy of your lion.

The Red Lion bites down and swallows him whole.

——-

“Have you ever wondered what they’re made of?” Pidge asks, scaling the Green Lion’s face. Hunk is making sure the belaying equipment is properly secure, for the hundredth time. He’s only done this sort of stuff at the indoor climbing gym, and those walls were too high for him. The Lion is much, much taller.

“Aren’t we supposed to let Coran take care of these things?” he calls up.

“It’s my lion,” Pidge says, with all the narcissism a teenaged genius can muster, “I think I should be able to help fix it.”

“I don’t know,” Hunk says warily, “I feel like this alien stuff is best left to those who know what they’re doing. What if you mess it up?”

“I never mess anything up,” Pidge says proudly. As if the universe is conspiring against her, her foot slips and she pitches forwards, smacking her face on the side of the lions muzzle and she drops the allowed fall length before the belay device kicks in. Hunk braces himself as the rope goes taut; his harness pulling tight as he counterweights her, and holds her in place. She swings in the air as she curls in on herself with a whimper, smacking into the side of her lion.

“Pidge?” Hunk calls, “hey are you okay?”

Pidge groans, and when she pulls her hands away from her face blood falls to the floor below.

“Oh!” Hunk shouts, “oh no!” He fights the nausea of seeing blood and holds tightly to Pidge’s rope. The equipment holds secure. In the air, she stops swinging to rest against the Green Lion.

“I’m okay!” she calls, and it sounds like she’s gargling. Hunk gags.

Pidge wipes her bloody hands on the Lion’s muzzle, offering an apology and a promise to come clean it later, and tries to keep her head up while blood continues to flow from her nose and mouth.

“I’m gonna bring you down!” Hunk calls. Pidge holds out a hand to give him a bloody thumbs up. She spits out more blood as she rappels down, continuing to drip onto her lion as she uses her bloody hands to push herself away from it.

When she reaches the ground, Hunk helps to unhook her harness while she leans forwards to keep bleeding onto the floor.

“I think my tooth is loose,” she moans. Hunk nearly goes green.

“Let’s let Coran deal with maintenance from now on,” Hunk jokes. Pidge scowls, but lets him find a questionably clean rag nearby to hold against her face. With Pidge hunkered over, Hunk escorts her out of the hangar.

There’s a screech of metal on metal and gears whirring. The both stop and turn around. The Green Lion has moved its head. It’s watching them intently, eyes lit up. There’s still blood on its lips.

“It’s probably worried about you,” Hunk says nervously. He doesn’t like the focus of the Lion’s gaze. He tugs at Pidge. She doesn’t offer any resistance. They all but flee the Hangar.

When they come back later to clean up, the blood is gone.

——-

“A lion chooses its Paladin,” Coran explains, “and it’s not to be taken lightly. You are important; you are part of something greater when you are a Paladin.”

“How can it choose if it’s just a machine?” Pidge asks, sensing a flaw and going in for the kill. Everyone else nods in agreement.

“Are they really ‘just’ machines?” Coran argues, “You know they’re greater than they appear.”

“And so are we,” Shiro says, smiling at his team.

——-

“Show me,” Shiro tells the Black Lion, “help me understand you.”

And it does.

Shiro stands in the past, watches Zarkon and Alfor building the future. There’s something he should be looking at, what are they creating? He can’t turn his eyes up. He can’t look at it. It’s self-preservation.

Zarkon and Alfor, thousands of years in the past, direct the building of a grand machine. Shiro can’t look at it.

“They built you,” Shiro says.

The creature that becomes the Black Lion watches him, as if it can see him through time and space. He can feel its eyes on him. He can’t look up.

Shiro comes back to himself in the cockpit. Surrounded by machine and engineering and design. There’s nothing living here.

He’s not sure if it’s the whole truth.

——-

“The robeasts? Don’t worry, they’re completely mechanical. Just like Voltron,” Coran assures him.

Lance hesitates, “Then… why do they bleed when we kill them?”

Coran shakes his head, “Nonsense. You’re just seeing the liquids needed to make them move. They’re machines, they don’t feel or bleed. Don’t feel any remorse for them.”

Lance glances up at the Blue Lion, oozing thick, dark liquid from the injury to its shoulder.

“Just a machine,” he repeats.

He rubs at his shoulder, feeling a phantom ache. No matter where he stands, he’s sure that the lion is watching him.

“Now run along,” Coran shoos him out, “I promise I’ll have your lion ready to go in no time.”

Lance leaves, and only has a parting thought: why does Coran always insist on fixing the lions alone?

——-

“You could pilot a lion, if you needed to,” Shiro insists.

Allura jerks back like she’s been burned, “Me? A Lion? Oh, no. I would never!”

Shiro furrows his brows, “Why not?”

“The Lions are— are specific, in whom they choose,” Allura explains, “I would never interfere with that. No, the Lions have chosen you. I won’t take you away from them.”

The phrasing is odd.

Doesn’t the lion belong to the Paladin?

——-

Voltron collapses into the mountainside, sending up a wave of dust and debris. The Robeast has no interest in something that doesn’t move, and it turns its attention back towards the village only a few miles away. The can feel the impact of its steps as it walks away.

“I, uh, I think I’ve lost power,” Lance confesses.

“We all have,” Shiro confirms, “Allura?” he calls over the com.

“What do you mean you have no power?” Allura demands.

“There’s nothing. Even the backup power is down,” Keith groans, “we’re sitting ducks.”

“That’s impossible,” Coran says over the line, “Voltron was built with failsafe’s. None of the Lions can break programming like that.”

“Well it did,” Pidge fumes, “whatever they hit us with, we’re outta commission. Nada, zip, zilch. Nothing’s moving.”

“Has anyone heard from Hunk?” Shiro asks. They all try to contact him. The Yellow Lion remains quiet.

“Hold on, I got eyes on him,” Lance says, “I— oh shit, the cockpit is damaged. It looks really bad. The hull is all messed up, it’s bleeding everywhere.”

“Can you see Hunk?” Keith asks.

“No, everything’s dark and— wait, wait! He’s moving. Hey! Hunk! Do you have—”

Voltron lurches, and the sound of metal screaming and tearing cuts through the air.

“What’s going on?” Allura demands.

“I—” Lance sounds a little nervous, “Hunk just separated. It— I don’t know what he’s doing. It doesn’t look right. Hunk? Hunk!”

“I’m getting out to have a look,” Keith says.

“Me too,” Pidge agrees.

“Guys, we can’t—” Shiro groans, and then gets up to manually open his cockpit as well.

The sun is setting, making it difficult to see detail in the dying light. The Yellow Lion, huge and heavily fortified, is moving in stiff, jerky movements. As if it doesn’t know how to stand.

“Is Hunk okay?” Pidge asks nervously. Her voice carries easily over the coms.

The Yellow Lions face is peeling off, panels broken from the force of the blows it’s taken. Thick, dark ichor spills like blood from a wound. A massive paw comes up to grab at the armor, and begins to rip it off.

“What’s he doing?” Keith shouts.

“Stop him!” Allura shrieks, “stop it! Don’t let it loose!”

“We can’t do anything!” Shiro shouts, fear sent into overdrive at the panic in Allura’s voice.

The robeast turns at the sound, and spying movement, begins running back towards them.

“Everyone back inside!” Shiro orders. It’s the safest place they can be, “Hunk!” he calls, “if you can hear me, it’s coming for you!”

At this point Shiro has a sinking feeling that Hunk can’t hear them. And that’s the problem.

The Yellow Lion tears off part of its face, just as the robeast attacks.

From inside their dead cockpits, they can only get glimpses of the fight. Of the robeast striking again and again, and the Yellow Lion’s snarling face, skin already healing where it tore the armor off.

When the shaking stops they clamor out again.

Night has fallen. The moons are only just rising, and it’s too dark to see anything but shapes. There’s the sound of metal being sheared, of something wet and heavy. As the moons rise they can make out the slope of the Yellow Lion over the fallen form of the robeast.

The Lion is eating it.

——-

Shiro dreams of that terrible thing he saw Zarkon and Alfor working on in the past. The thing he couldn’t look at, the thing that watched him. He sees the Yellow Lions wild eyes, free from the blinders keeping it under control.

They weren’t building the Lions.

They were containing them.

——

“You don’t understand,” Keith says, “the weblum was huge. I’ve never seen such a big animal. And it just— it lives in space!”

Shiro laughs, “And that’s what scares you?”

“Actually,” Keith shrugs, “what scares me more is that something that big exists… and it shoots lasers. It defends itself.”

Shiro furrows his brows, “I’m not following.”

“Animals only develop defenses if they’re hunted,” Keith explains, “so what’s out there that a weblum has to defend itself from? What else don’t we know about?”

Shiro stretches out his legs and leans back on his hands, looking up at the stars, “Well, hopefully we never have to find out.”

——-

They haven’t gone near the Lions since the Yellow awakened. It’s locked in its hangar, sleeping off its meal. Coran assures them that he’ll make sure it never breaks loose again.

Hunk has been in a daze since the whole thing happened. Lance doesn’t leave his side.

“What happens if we try to leave?” Keith demands to Allura.

“You can’t,” Allura says, “who else will pilot the Lions? They chose you. Won’t you honor that?”

Keith thinks about the Red Lion launching across space to bring him back. Maybe it isn’t so much about them honoring the Lions, as it is the Lions refusing to let them go.

“What are they?” Pidge asks.

Allura looks surprised at the question, “Don’t you already know?”

——-

“So what is this place?” Keith asks.

“A temple, I think?” Hunk says, shining the light on the wrist of his armor at the wall. There’s murals and carvings, long past weathered and faded so only faint shapes remain.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Hunk asks.

Keith comes to stand beside him, squinting at the shapes. Hunk waits patiently. Keith has the most experience deciphering ancient alien scripture, so his guess is probably the best they’ll get.

“It… kinda looks like an offering,” Keith finally says, “maybe they did sacrifices to their gods?”

Hunk shudders, and when he looks back at the mural he thinks he can see what Keith is talking about.

“Man, why are old cultures always so weird like that?” he complains, “why can’t their gods be nice and just get, like, foot rubs or something?”

“Maybe that’s why they all died out,” Keith offers, “they gave too much, and their gods ate them all.”

Hunk frowns as Keith walks back into the darkness, searching for the artifact they came here for, “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

Keith doesn’t respond, and Hunk can hear him walking further and further away. He takes one last look back to the vague five shapes descending on their prey, and runs after his teammate.

——

The Lions of Voltron are gathered together for the first time in over a thousand years.

They are hungry.

“I have brought you new Paladins,” Allura informs them. She faces the Black Lion, and bows respectfully, “I hope this offering pleases you.”

#voltron #vld #me: when will someone write the vaguely nge-inspired/eldrich horror mecha creature feature i desire #me @ me: be the writer you want to see in the world #so uhh... here we are #this ended up being very hunk focused woops #writing is hard

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davidpires578 · 5 years

Text

Dark Chocolate and Sponge Cake (11)

Amazingly, to me at least, the last post in this series occurred on March 29th of this year. Where did all the time go? Well, that’s easy enough to answer – most of it went into the project work at Colgate University, and then a few other things came up. I had thought I might be away from this piece for a 2~3 month stretch but somehow more water has passed under the bridge than that. That’s how it goes.

So glad to be back on this project, and ready to dig into some more of that delicious Cuban mahogany. The parts previously cut have been sitting in my shop, strewed around somewhat as I juggled other parts from various projects, and now that I dust these pieces off I am pleased to find that the mahogany, of both varieties (Cuban and Honduran) has remained perfectly stable. The joined frame joints remain tight and clean, and the panels free of warp, bow, cup, or twist. That’s a benefit of having the parts ‘season’ in the shop mid-construction. The Cuban mahogany has oxidized a degree back to a chocolate color, so I feel like there’s no need to worry about applying dye to freshly cut sections to blend parts together for color/tone -it will all look uniform after a few months so I’ll make the piece intending to celebrate the variegation, knowing it is but fleeting.

One of the lessons that has come to be clear to me in recent years, when faced with a situation where a project is interrupted for a lengthy period, is that it sure pays to be doubly cautious when re-entering the fray. One can’t always step back into full flow and take up as if there has been no interruption, for as much as there has been a time break there has also been a mental one. Caution is merited on account of the precious nature of the wood I am working with, the supply of which really does not allow for those sort of mistakes which would necessitate that a stick or panel be replaced. But the other caution flag which comes up for me now relates to that getting one’s head back into the project and not making assumptions about next steps until one is thoroughly back into the very head space which shaped where things had been taken to in the previous design and build phase.

On top of all this are the factors which come up when you look at something with fresh eyes again and may well choose to do some details differently than previously envisioned.

Assumptions can be a real drag sometimes if they do not prove to be correct. Every woodworker knows this, and I would venture to say that making erroneous assumptions is one of the most common sources of error in projects, along with plain old inattention and/or obliviousness.

When I start in on a drawing for a project, I tend to work first in big (digital) brush strokes, coming up with appropriate massing and configuration for the piece to suit the intended purpose. Once I have shared these initial ideas with a client, the direction forward hopefully becomes more established, and eventually I am rendering the piece in fairly close detail.

I say ‘fairly close’ detail rather than ‘exact’ detail because, with more complex pieces especially, certain areas of a drawing such as joinery details (if they are not a visual feature), or uncertainties about the final form of a molding profile, or any spacing/number errors which may crop up in SketchUp drawing that indicate there is a problem somewhere (a problem however which would require significant backtracking and analysis to parse out), tend to be left for later. In such cases I tend to continue forward with the sketching of the piece, the goal being to produce a drawing which conveys all of the visual detail the client needs in order to make the decision to proceed.

Others might only take their drawings as far as the concept sketch phase in their interactions with their clients, but I find that with joinery-based solid wood pieces a lot of the constructional detailing is going to be apparent in the final product, so it makes sense to define it fairly thoroughly so that the rendered drawing is very close to what will be made. The look of the piece comes partially from how it is made, not from what is applied to something otherwise to make it look like something it really isn’t.

Once I have reached the ‘go-ahead’ phase with the client, wood and other materials are sourced and I go about producing any necessary templates I might need. Once the wood is in hand and ready to be worked, I start breaking down the material as per a cut list, prioritizing the critical pieces first. When it comes time to cut joinery, I go back to my drawing and go over the component in question with a fine-toothed comb looking to correct errors, flesh out details, make minor changes as required.

So, at this phase, I grab rendered components in my drawing and duplicate them, and then in the same sketch make the duplicate white in color so that I know it is a revised and ‘final’ part.

After a while the overall sketch becomes cluttered with various components which have been dragged out, made white and revised to a detailed level. My main drawing looks like this right now, for example:

Sometimes I put things on different layers, toggling layers on and off, but I don’t always bother with that for single pieces of furniture.

I also start new sub-drawings dedicated to particular aspects like doors, back panel framing, drawers, etc., copying parts over and then going through them in detail, again rendering to white. Once the part is finalized in the drawing I print take-offs of various parts and their details, with dimensions, which I then take with me to the shop. It’s like a road map. Until recently we have not had a family laptop, so taking the drawings to the shop has become what I am used to, as opposed to keeping a computer at the shop. My shop lacks an office or dust-free space, so I tend to be averse to bringing a laptop into that – and my wife certainly is not keen on that either.

And, where I last left off in the build I had just started the fabrication process with this futon storage cabinet, having prepped most of the stock, and having constructed the frame for the top and the 4 sets of latticework which comprise the sides of the cabinet:

I could have re-started pretty much anywhere, but I chose to continue on with the fabrication of the top frame and panel. So far I have prepped the stock, cut the corner joints, cut the interior edge dado for the panel, and molded the outside. See post 6, post 7 and post 8 if your memory needs refreshing. I know mine did!

The frame of the top has the thickest section height of any stick in the cabinet, and I was only able to squeeze out the four frame members I have from the 8/4 stock I obtained. There were only two boards out of the pile which yielded material of the required thickness, so if something goes south with joinery cut out on the frame, which is a bit on the complicated side so it is rife with opportunity for errors, then I have nothing with which to replace it. It’s not like I can go and get some more Cuban mahogany at the hardwood lumber outlet. So, I’m super careful. Well, a bit paranoid too! It seems that you can’t so freely use the term ‘it’s only wood’ when what you have to work is in actuality virtually irreplaceable.

One of the tricky areas with frame and panel work is that of joining the frame outer corners together with their supporting post. The three way connection in other words. There are various solutions of course, and I’ve wrote about them extensively in the past, and I have written two joinery Monographs which deal with this topic exclusively. Yet, with a new project comes new particulars, and I sometimes need to come up with new configurations of three-way connections to satisfy the requirements. I find this a lot of fun actually and relish the challenge.

Just in case it might not be clear, here’s the connection I am using in this cabinet to join the top’s corners and posts together:

It’s a form of half lap, but one which needs to incorporate the size and position of the post tenon amid the lap’s dual locking pin mechanism, shachi-sen, plus accommodate the molded front profile, and the interior dado for the panel. Pushing the design configuration is the intended assembly sequence involving the latticed side frames and bottom frame. Also pushing on the design is the fact that the post tenon’s visual exposure means that the position of the rear post tenons need to be the same if at all possible to the front tenons, and yet the form of post used at each location is different. The rear posts accommodate the clip-in back panel assembly, while the front posts are shaped to partner with the door stiles in such a way so as to allow the doors to swing 180˚ open. Finally, there was the design decision to use a joint which showed a bit of it’s mechanism, instead, say, of a joint with a fully mitered appearance. This decision was made in light of the piece overall and wanting to walk that fine line between showcasing the material and showing the virtues of joined work too. The corner joint with shachi sen is becoming a frequent feature of my work, part of the design language.

So, there’s a lot going on in a tight space and a lot to consider. Of course I fully recognize that I do bring this on myself though the desire I have to build, insofar as possible/reasonable, without any recourse to glue or metal fasteners and using joinery which is, to whatever extent it seems sensible to push it, demountable. It would all be vastly simpler and quicker, to be sure, to join everything together with glued butt joint and miter joint connections with dowels, biscuits, dominoes, etc., and maybe even tack on a little joinery simulacra. I’ve seen in some pieces of furniture the look of through tenons simulated by simply burning rectangles on the surface for instance. How these pieces are not outright laughed at and withdrawn from consideration for sale at the furniture outlet is beyond me, but of course there are price points to consider. Anyway, I’m not tempted by those easier routes though it certainly offers what it from many sides a more pragmatic way to proceed, that is, from a manufacturing and profit/loss perspective.

Anyway, back to the top frame detailing. The relative simplicity of the core of the joint, that of half-lap pierced by single tenon, appealed to me, but wringing out the details took a while. I think that’s one of the key things to realizing a design successfully: sitting with the design until it is truly done to the last detail and not giving into the strong temptation to just get on with the cuttin’. Sometimes those little tiny details that seemed better to gloss over, the ones your choose to mentally abbreviate, can come back to bite you – this certainly has happened to me enough times.

When I got my head back into the drawing after the long break, I discovered that I had left off working on the drawing in the middle of finalizing certain details. Some things were not pencilled in fully, and some parts were annoyingly off their marks for reasons which were unclear. About three days were absorbed in straightening everything out and getting to a point of being ready to fabricate.

Back then to the cutting, I decided to mortise the lap joints for the tenons, and thought it made good sense to mill these mortises with the joints tightened and in an aligned position. In the past I have tackled such joints with chisel alone, by hollow chisel mortiser, and by router with edge guide. Now my weapon of choice, more often than not, is the Zimmermann pattern mill. I’ve gravitated, therefore, to the tool that tends to produce the most precise results, with the safest way to produce the cuts, with the cut area clearly exposed to view, the cleanest way to produce the cuts, and with the most reliable fixturing. That, in a nutshell, is the pattern mill.

I used a pair of Bessey clamps to dial each corner joint in tight and dead square, before clamping the assembly down onto the work table of the mill:

The mortises had been marked out months ago, but a last double check revealed one of the mortises was in the wrong position (!), so I’m super glad I took the time to re-check that and make the correction.

The mortise is roughed out initially with a under-size cutter and the location of the mortise defined by that cut’s position checked with a caliper in situ:

#woodworking #wood #working #miter #saws #Woodworking

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