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marypsue · 6 years

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Something Borrowed, Something Blues 7 / ?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / ?

So I have to apologise for the unannounced, unexpected month-and-a-half hiatus. I found out by trial and error (mostly error) that I can’t consistently update two longfics while also consistently working on a novel. I’m going to finish this and Imbalance, but after that, I’m planning to take a step back from fic to focus more on my original fiction. I hope you’ll check out @katesummervsthemultiverse if you’re interested in what I’ve been getting up to!

I’m also on AO3 as MaryPSue!

...

The first thing that caught the eye, entering Gravity Falls, were the cliffs.

It had been true in 2012 and it was true now, a little over a thousand years later. The valley in which the town nestled sloped gently downwards, only to abruptly terminate in a towering wall of rock. The cliffs loomed over the valley like enormous sentinels, keeping watch over everything that lay before them. One of the huge outcroppings of bare stone that hung over the valley had lost its top, a chunk of rock almost the size of the town itself sliding off and crashing into the base of the opposite cliff, but the distinctive UFO shape could still be made out, if you knew what you were looking for.

Gravity Falls had changed too much, and not at all.

The landmarks that Dipper remembered, like the cliffs, had all been weathered or beaten or even completely broken down by the inexorable passage of time, the one force in the universe that even he couldn't overcome. And yet, when you looked at them with an eye that knew what they once had been, it was impossible to miss the way the new still wrapped itself around the bones of the old.

The borders of the town had sprawled out into the encroaching forest (and fought some pitched battles to do so), but at its core it remained the same small town Dipper remembered. The people, if the handful of locals he'd run into since arriving could be considered statistically significant, hadn't stopped being quirky and full of personality - and almost preternaturally unobservant. The original building housing Stanley Pines Memorial Library of the Supernatural had long ago disappeared into the forest's depths, but the town was still a go-to for scholars of the supernatural. The storefronts had changed, probably hundreds of times, but the layout of the streets in the centre of town were the same. Dipper could stroll through the town core with his eyes closed, and only have to worry about cars and hovercraft and the occasional pedestrian.

He wasn't closing his eyes on this particular walk through downtown, though. He had a breadcrumb trail to follow.

The path that Mira had taken into the woods was clear, bright as a trail of searchlights leading down the street from the hotel and out to the edge of town. They were getting closer and closer to the cliffs, Dipper noticed uneasily. He very, very gently let his ‘Tyrone’ disguise slip another few notches, just enough to see the world through a few more senses humans didn’t have.

Mira’s trail flared to brilliant life before him, a rainbow of glittering colours the height of a human trailing down the street. Dipper breathed out, long and slow, when he didn’t see any traces of yellow or gold hanging around it. There was a thread of brighter green twining its way around the rainbow, a little like ivy, but it didn’t smell of Bill.

He could have seen more, of course, if he’d been able to shuck the human suit altogether, but -

“How can you tell which way she went?” Sun-mi...’complained’ wasn’t the right word. Maybe ‘demanded’ was closer. “I don’t see anything but street.”

“I think my senses are probably a little better than yours,” Dipper muttered, not particularly caring if Sun-mi heard him. It wasn’t all that unusual for someone to look human and not be, or to look human and not be entirely. He’d found over the years that it was much easier to misdirect people into thinking he was a different, more benign supernatural entity than he actually was, rather than trying to convince them that he was 100% authentic hand-squeezed human.

Of course, he wouldn't have had to bother pretending anything if the only one of Mira's friends who didn't know about him hadn't insisted on coming along, but - fine. This was fine. He probably wouldn’t have been able to stay behind and let somebody else handle things if his best friend was mysteriously missing either, even if anyone else could have found Mira in the first place. Or, at least, found her trail, which was the problem.

Dipper should have known exactly where Mira was. Her soul belonged to him, for Pete’s sake! He could always find her!

The fact that right now, all he could find was her trail did not exactly give him confidence in his decision to let - to help her come to Gravity Falls. He'd let his own nostalgia blind him to all the red flags. He'd thought, irrationally, that they'd be safe here. That Gravity Falls, despite all evidence to the contrary, wouldn't let anything happen to Mizar. He'd thought -

Well, it didn't matter what he'd thought. Because he'd thought wrong.

And now Mira was missing and it was all his fault.

"Werewolf?" Sun-mi asked, a trace of interest breaking through the irritable worry in her voice. It took Dipper a moment to backtrack far enough in his train of thought to figure out what she was talking about.

"Kind of a personal question, don't you think?"

"Are there any questions I could ask to learn more about you that aren't personal?" Sun-mi shot back. "How did you and Mira meet? How long have you known each other? Why hasn't she ever mentioned you? Who are you, anyway?"

"Not a werewolf," Dipper muttered, turning back to the trail.

...

The path ahead of Mira brightened slowly, from dark to dim grey to rosy, dappled with bright spots of gold where the sun slipped through the endless trees. The curious hush of the sleeping town was slowly but inexorably filling with birdsong. It was getting closer to morning the deeper she wandered into the woods.

Maybe she should have turned back the moment she'd realised the sun was starting to rise. Everyone would be worried - she hadn't left a note.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, though, her feet still carried her forwards, the soft patter of her bare soles against the packed earth never faltering. Something swelled strange and fierce and triumphant in her chest, even as she ducked to avoid an overhanging branch. She wasn't sure if she remembered why, but - let them worry about her a little. She'd done enough worrying, for what felt like far too long, and the woods were peaceful and calm.

And welcoming.

...

The line between town and trees seemed weirdly abrupt.

Ian stared at it distrustfully. It stared distrustfully right back. If a solid wall of dark green could have a facial expression, he'd say it looked smug.

It absolutely wasn't frightening. Ian wasn't scared to go in.

"You're sure she's in there?" he asked, and Alcor - 'Tyrone' - grimaced.

"I'm sure she went in there." 'Tyrone's' eyes flicked over to meet Ian's, and Ian caught the unspoken flicker of worry in his expression. It was the opposite of reassuring.

"Then we're going in there too," Ian said, and started forward. Nobody tried to stop him, and he reached the treeline in only a few steps.

The pines and spruce towered overhead, like the walls of some huge fortress. A breeze eddied past, carrying the fresh scent of greenery, and for reasons he couldn't explain to save his life, a shiver danced up the back of Ian's neck.

Somewhere above him, where the treetops took jagged bites out of the blue overhead, a crow's coughing cackle mocked Ian's bravado. Go on, then, it seemed to be saying. If you're so tough.

Ian gritted his teeth and stepped into the shadow of the trees. And then took one more step, into the forest.

The moment he lost sight of the sun behind the evergreens, it was as if he'd stepped into a cave. The air around him turned cold, the summer heat he'd taken for granted fizzling away into the cool, green, underwater dimness of the woods. The light shifted, shimmering through the trees and picking up a pale greenish hue as it fell. Even the background noise of the town seemed suddenly muted, like someone had turned the volume most of the way down. Ian had never been particularly outdoorsy, but he was pretty sure the entire atmosphere around him wasn't supposed to change that fast.

He turned, half-expecting to find himself alone, with only miles and miles of forest stretching out behind him, as far as he could see. But there was Gravity Falls, just the same as it had been half a second ago when he'd walked into the trees. Alcor was just a step behind him, Rosa and Sun-mi trailing a little further behind.

"This way," Alcor said, passing Ian and pointing them towards a bend in the path. Sun-mi hurried after him, dogging his heels, while Rosa slowed to wait for Ian.

"Doin' all right there?"

Ian managed a grimace that might, in the right light, be mistaken for a grin. "Don't worry about me. We've got a Mira to find."

"You know that don't make me worry any less, right?" Rosa said, looping her arm through Ian's and all but dragging him after her.

"There's just something creepy about these woods. Something more than just the fact that they apparently ate my fiancée," Ian admitted. "I feel like something's watching us."

Rosa jerked a thumb over her shoulder, to where a pointy red hat was just visible in the undergrowth.

"Ha ha," Ian said, yanking his arm back from Rosa. Or trying to, anyway. Her grip was like iron.

"Beale -" Rosa started, but Ian cut her off.

"Rose, please, I asked you to stop calling me that."

Rosa recoiled, looking stung, and then scowled. "All right. I'm sorry for that. But I'm just tryin' ta help -"

"Yeah, like you helped last time?" Ian muttered, and Rosa's scowl deepened.

"Fine. Be a miserable cuss if it makes ya feel better. But Mira's my friend too, an' I'm not sittin' round with my thumb up my ass whinin' while she's missing."

With that, she hurried ahead to catch up with the other two, leaving Ian alone with the feeling of eyes on his back.

...

"Changeling?"

Dipper paused, shut his eyes, and opened them again to a world overlaid with aura colours. Mira's trail was getting harder and harder to find in the layers of green, and somehow that worried him almost as much as the cave in the cliffs. Mira's trail should have been growing stronger as they got closer to the source, not fainter. True, they were in what was probably the most magical forest the world, but...

"What kind of changeling?" he asked. At least Sun-mi's incessant questions were a good distraction.

"Mm." Sun-mi was silent for a beat, surveying Dipper, which was not a good distraction. "Not troll, I don't think. Fey, maybe - I mean, you did just lure us all into the woods. I suppose there's also deal-born, though most of the deal-born meet unfortunate and ironic fates around puberty, it doesn't mix well with demon magic."

Dipper took a breath and let it out carefully, making sure it didn't sound too much like a sigh of relief. Mira's friend was just a shade too knowledgeable for comfort. Dipper was just lucky she'd been knowledgeable enough to talk herself out of getting too close to the truth.

"Not a changeling," he said, and paused. Ahead of him, the trail forked, and though he could still make out the vibrant colours of Mira's trail through the thick, cloying green of the forest's own magic, something made him stop and drop an arrow of gold light into the trampled-down earth and leafmould of the path, pointing back in the direction they'd come. It shone preternaturally bright in his second sight, but even as Dipper watched, that green crept in and around and over it, dimming its brilliance and dulling its sharp edges. Well, that probably wasn't good.

"Wizard?" Sun-mi asked. "I know they're not naturally gifted in the senses department, but there must be spells -"

"Sun-mi, A-Tyrone, how're we doing?" Rosa interrupted, throwing an arm companionably over Dipper's shoulder. Judging by the expression on Sun-mi's face, Rosa had done the same to her with the other arm. "Please tell me we're gettin' close."

"Hard to say," Dipper answered, grateful to have something to talk about other than magical-creature-twenty-questions. "You know how they say Gravity Falls is the most magical place on Earth? The town's got nothing on the woods. It's making it really hard to tell where Mira went or even how long ago she came through."

"The forest's magical field interferes with your tracking abilities?" Sun-mi said, and Dipper gave himself a sharp mental kick. "Interesting."

Rosa shot her a confused look, before turning back to Dipper. "That don't mean you can't find her, though, does it?"

Dipper wished he could take it as her being spoiled and demanding, and ignore the note of plaintive worry in her voice.

"I sure hope not," he muttered, and, before anyone else could ask any questions, plunged forward down the path where Mira's trail had gone.

...

The path, Mira noticed with interest, had all but disappeared under her feet. A soft, plush carpet of fallen leaves and moss cushioned her every step as she wound her way around the trees, brambles and low bushes almost seeming to curl back out of her way with every step.

They were growing fewer and farther between, though, as the trees grew larger and farther apart. A vague memory from a long-ago science class told her that as she moved deeper into the forest, she was also moving back in time. These trees must have been here for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Their branches arched overhead like the vaulted ceiling of an ancient cathedral, a reverent hush gathering among the enormous trunks.

Even without a path, Mira found, it was impossible to get lost. Her feet seemed to know where they wanted to wander, and she was content to follow them.

It was strange. She'd left her hotel in the middle of the night to walk into the woods, without leaving a note or telling anyone where she was going, with no clear plan or destination in mind. And now it was morning, and she was still walking, into the very oldest depths of the most magical, least trustworthy forest on Earth. She could swear that the plants were moving to guide her and clear her way, and she had the faintest feeling that the movement she'd been seeing among the trees wasn't only birds and squirrels and gnomes.

And yet, she wasn't afraid. She wasn't even worried. That in itself might have worried her, but - how could it? She wasn't lost. She didn't exactly know where she was going, but her feet knew how to get there. And Dipper would always know where to find her.

And the woods weren't frightening. In fact, much like the clearing they'd first arrived in, they felt - not friendly, maybe, but welcoming. Familiar. Like - like an older relative's house she'd visited lots when she was younger, well-known but still a little bit mysterious, but still safe, still comfortable. Almost, but not quite like...

Home.

...

The path Alcor had been leading them down had long ago faded into the underbrush. Ian's arms were scratched and bruised where he'd tried (with varying degrees of success) to push the brambles and bushes out of his way. He really hoped he didn't have any ticks embedded in his legs after all this tromping around in the brush, but he wasn't going to count on it. Rosa's petticoat had gotten so hopelessly snarled that they'd all had to stop and untangle her twice, and Sun-mi had finally conceded defeat and tucked her silky scarf away in her purse after it had caught on a branch and nearly strangled her.

"Can't you do something about this?" Ian grumbled to Alcor, once he was sure Sun-mi's attention was fixed on liberating her scarf.

"I'm trying," Alcor muttered back, turning to look at Ian, and Ian took a sharp step backwards before catching himself. 'Tyrone' looked terrible, pale as death but with a bright fever-spot of red on each cheek, and his eyes - they looked normal, at first glance, but when you were paying attention and knew what you were looking for, it was obvious that the yellowish cast to his skin was at least partly due to the glow coming off his eyeballs. "But it's fighting me."

"I thought you were the most powerful -" Ian started, his voice rising, but Alcor glanced pointedly over in Sun-mi's direction and Ian swallowed the rest of the sentence. "Are you saying this patch of trees is stronger than you are?"

"No! I'm saying the further in we get, the harder it is to keep this forest from doing what it really wants to do and just throwing us out!" Alcor reached up, like he was going to adjust the brim of a hat he wasn't wearing, then huffed out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers up into his hair instead, grabbing a lock so that it stood up in all directions. "Okay, maybe that does mean this patch of trees is stronger than I am, but it was here before I was Al- was me, and it's had more practice!" His voice went suddenly small as he added, "Believe me, I'm doing everything I can."

Ian managed to bite back the complaint that had been lining up on his tongue, ready to spill out. It wasn't like he couldn't see that Alcor was trying. Or like he didn't know Alcor wanted to find Mira as much as or more than he did.

"Okay," he sighed. "Is there, I don't know, anything I can do to help?"

Alcor started to shake his head, and then stopped. "Actually, if you and Rosa can keep Sun-mi distracted so she stops trying to figure out what I am and how I fit into Mira's life -"

Ian nodded. "Say no more."

...

Ian stepped away from Dipper's side, and Dipper breathed a mental sigh of relief. It was enough work just keeping 'Tyrone' intact while holding the forest at bay, trying to hold a conversation at the same time was borderline impossible. And he hadn't actually lied to Ian, but - it probably wouldn't increase anybody's confidence if they knew that the further into the forest they went, the weaker Dipper was starting to feel.

Of course, that still made him more powerful than ninety-nine percent of demons, but - this wasn't supposed to happen. He'd gotten so used to being the strongest that suddenly having that pulled out from under him was not a fun or pleasant experience. Nothing was supposed to be able to do this to him anymore! And yet, he could still feel the slow, steady sucking that was draining his power, little by little, growing stronger the closer they drew to the heart of the forest - and, if his sense of direction wasn't as clouded as his sixth sense was, the cliffs.

Just as it had with Mira and her trail and the breadcrumb arrows he'd left along their way, the thick green web of the forest's power obscured Dipper's Sight, making it impossible for him to tell what it was that was leeching off his power. Unfortunately, Dipper thought he had a pretty good idea what it was anyway.

He cast a wary glance back at the trio following him, his eyes landing on Ian's back with a wince. It probably hadn't been a good idea to bring him. If Dipper wasn't putting two and two together and coming up with paranoia, then Mira'd been taken as bait. Bait to get him within range of the thing that was stealing his power. Bait to get Ian up to the cliffs.

Bait to get them all assembled, again, in a place where Bill Cipher could be summoned.

Rosa let out an uproarious laugh about something and punched Ian in the arm, and for a moment, Dipper was forcibly reminded of another trio who'd trailed after him like this, so many lifetimes ago. Just being here was dragging so many old memories he hadn't thought about in forever back out of the depths of his mind, and Dipper had to admit that it was bittersweet. Everything had changed so much since the last time he'd set foot in these woods.

Well. Almost everything.

Dipper turned back to the faint echo of Mira's aura hanging in the air. It was all but swallowed by green now. They'd have to make better time.

And he'd have to figure out what he was going to do once they reached the cave.

...

The trees and the undergrowth finally started to clear, but while it made it easier to walk, it didn’t actually make things better. Mostly because it meant Ian could now see the birch trees all around him. Hundreds, maybe thousands of big black eyes surrounding him on all sides, boring into his back no matter where he turned.

It was unnerving enough on its own, but that wasn’t all. The first few times he saw it, Ian thought it was just trees swaying in the wind, that he’d glimpsed out of the corner of his eye, green sweeping across his peripheral vision and then vanishing again. He’d only realised it couldn’t possibly be trees when one of them flickered red.

After that, they were impossible to miss. It didn’t take long before the others started to notice, too. Rosa’s elbow in his side and raised eyebrow said everything, to Ian. Sun-mi was a little less tactful.

“We’re being followed,” she said, shortly.

“No, we’re not,” Alcor said. “I lost Mira’s trail fifteen minutes ago.”

There was a moment of quiet as everyone tried to work out what he meant. The creatures following them, the lightening undergrowth, the way the forest had seemed to stop fighting them -

“You’re saying we’re being herded,” Ian said.

Alcor just grimaced, and kept walking.

...

It felt like hours, or maybe days, before Mira's feet slowed and then came to a stop, hours that still somehow passed in the blink of an eye. Time seemed to have bent dreamlike around her, leaving her here without a real sense of how she'd gotten there.

For the first time since she'd entered the forest, Mira paused and looked around. The sunlight finally burst through the canopy in full, pouring down around her and flooding the clearing laid out before her with golden light. Every blade of pale green or gold grass, rippling gently like a shimmering sea in the faint breath of breeze, every needle on the branches of the towering evergreens and every silver-coin-flashing leaf bursting from the birches that ringed the open space, every delicate petal of the explosion of multicoloured flowers filling the clearing, were gilded with light.

But, beautiful as the whole scene was, one thing inexorably drew her eye.

The tree standing at the centre of the clearing was unlike the other trees around them, and not only because it was the only apple tree Mira had seen so far. Nor was it simply because it looked like the oldest apple tree in the world, so fantastically gnarled that it almost looped in on itself, its explosion of branches twisting like serpents. There was something about it that seemed to have its own gravity, strong enough to draw her all the way from town into the middle of the woods. It was in full leaf, its branches laden with perfect fruit. Mira's mouth watered at the sight of them.

She took a step forward, into the clearing, her mind empty of everything but the brilliant red glint of sunlight off the flawless skin of the apples.

And that was when she saw the figure standing at the base of the tree, its bare, branching antlers almost hidden by the leaves.

...

The half-glimpsed green creatures left them at the edge of a clearing. Ian could still see their flowing garments and shocking red hair peeking out from behind the birch and spruce that ringed the small circle of grass, though. The message was clear: there would be no going back the way they came.

He stepped reluctantly out into the clearing, uneasily watching the birch trees watching him. He'd had nightmares that started like this. Lots of them, in fact. Ever since he'd had a lifetime's worth of memories that didn't belong to him dropped into his head.

Ian's attention was so focused on the trees that he didn't notice Alcor had stopped walking until he collided with Alcor's back. Alcor was frozen, staring at something in the centre of the clearing, and if it could make the world's most powerful demon look like that, then Ian wasn't so sure he wanted to look and see what it was.

He finally forced himself to step out from behind the demon, to confront what Alcor had seen. If it had anything to do with what had taken Mira, then he had to face it, had to know what it was.

At first, though, he wasn't sure what the big deal was. All he saw was what looked like the oldest, ugliest apple tree in the world, the dark wood of its trunk twisted and knotted until it almost looked like it had been carved into the rough shape of a crouched human body, the bare branches springing from the bulbous knot that represented its 'head' pronged like antlers. Someone had left an axe leaning against it, and though the handle was weathered silver and half-overgrown by the tree, the blade still glinted deadly sharp.

Then it opened its eyes.

Twin blue stars flashed to life in the middle of the creature's face, blue stars flaring in the depths of impossibly deep sockets, like gazing into infinity. They seemed to bore straight into Ian, as though they were looking into his soul and out the other side.

The creature slowly unfolded itself, its body wrenching away from the tree, Ian now saw, it had begun to grow into. And it kept unfolding itself, unnaturally long limbs extending, until it towered over the four assembled searchers, seven feet or more of gnarled dark wood and inexplicable malice. One of its gangling arms ended in a clawed hand, fingers like questing roots, pointed and irresistible. The other ended in the axe.

Rosa gasped, grabbing Ian's shoulders. Sun-mi also gasped, though it was an entirely different-sounding gasp, and took a step forward, one hand scrabbling blind for her phone, her eyes never leaving the creature's face. Only Alcor didn't move, didn't react, almost like he'd known this was going to happen. Which, Ian reflected, he probably had.

The creature's knot-face cracked, splitting right across the middle, jagged edges like sharp teeth, and it let out a bone-shattering roar. Crows scattered from the treetops around them, the trees around them shook, even the ground seemed suddenly unsteady under Ian's feet.

Sun-mi jumped back, and Rosa ducked down behind Ian's back. Alcor didn't move. He stood, perfectly still, until the creature's roar slowly petered out into a curious sound, and then stopped altogether. Ian couldn’t see any real change in his appearance, but Alcor still somehow seemed taller, almost towering. Ian could feel the press of Alcor’s power on his skin, not unlike the pins and needles of blood flowing back into a limb, insistent and uncomfortable and impossible to ignore.

In the ringing silence after the roar, Alcor's voice was like a bell tolling.

"Woodsman. Where is my Mizar?"

#this is mary's fic tag #gravity falls #transcendence au

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ink-splotch · 7 years

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The day after the battle, Hermione Granger got up before the sun did. The Lake was covered in fog, and she was used to having somewhere urgent to go, to be, to fight. She closed the tent flap up behind her. Hogwarts had something like enough beds, but Hermione hadn't had it in her to climb those moving staircases, to step through the painting's open frame and make her way to the Gryffindor girls' seventh year dormitory. Her bed would have been there, months untouched except for the bras and scarves and bottles of sparkly purple nail polish Parvati and Lavender had strewn onto every open surface. The fog rolled in off the Lake and Hermione stood at the damp shore and shivered until the sun rose and burned it all away. - The day after the battle, they buried their dead out on an island in the Lake, the day after the battle. Madame Pomfrey fretted and hovered, but every injured witch, wizard, and squib made it out to those conjured chairs. They might sit with assistance-- with spells, with braces, with a friend's shoulder-- but they sat quiet and they listened to Flitwick read out the names. - The day after the battle, Ron Weasley stood on tiptoe when he stepped back into the Great Hall, looking over a sea of bent heads to find a cluster of red. They'd brought the tables back. The cluster was only a tiny blip of three-- Bill and their parents were flitting about, helping Flitwick float steaming bowls of pasta down onto each table. But Ginny and Percy were sitting on either side of George, keeping up a lively conversation about Gilderoy Lockhart's hair. Ginny was sitting half in Harry's lap, like if she didn't he wouldn't be able to stop himself from getting up to help, or to pace the castle, or to walk out to the Forest and not come back. She was holding his hand, her freckled thumb running over the words written into his skin. Ron thought about sitting with Luna, instead. Percy tried to laugh at one of Ginny's jokes, and Ron didn't know how to be kind like that. Ginny held Harry's hand. Ron had thought for a long terrible stretch of heartbeats that he had lost two brothers yesterday. He could sit with Dean. He could walk out to the Forest and punch Aragog in his ugly eyes, because normally when he walked away from everyone he loved it was because he was scared and maybe change was good for the soul. Ron pushed his hands through his hair. He crossed the Great Hall, swung into a seat next to Harry, and filled his plate with lukewarm pasta. - The day after the battle, Luna Lovegood climbed up to the Astronomy Tower, because it was the furthest she could get away from everything. She laid on her back on the cold stone and cast balls of light and enchanted birds to chase each other across the ceiling until she felt like descending down to the ground again. - The day after the battle, Neville Longbottom went down to the greenhouses to see what the damage was there. He had sat all night and all morning in the infirmary, fetching water for Anthony Goldstein and holding Dennis Creevey's hand and folding extra blankets down over Professor Sprout's cold feet. Madame Pomfrey had banished him to go get a spot to eat and some sleep, so he walked down to the greenhouses to see what was salvageable. Whole panes of greenish glass stood jagged and shattered. Protective spells had put out any fires, but stray blasts of magic had killed beds of vegetables and flowers and taken almost all the silver-green leaves off an olive tree that twisted in the corner of Greenhouse 4. Neville went in through the door, even though there as a broken hole in the glass wall big enough for him, and almost fell back through it when Hannah Abbott stood up from the row of pots she'd been crouching behind. Dirt streaked every crease of her hands. "Hey," he said, and let the door click shut behind him. "Hey." When she saw where he was heading, she added, "The olive's still alive." The bark was rough under his hand, gnarled from decades of slow growth. He could hear the green magic whispering down its xylem. "I was thinking I'd try to mend up the walls, close this place up again," said Hannah. "But I wasn't sure I could do it alone." "Alright," said Neville. When Professor Sprout argued her way out of the infirmary and thumped downhill with the wind throwing her cloudy hair in her face, she found every pane of glass healed and Neville and Hannah asleep on the softest patch of moss in Greenhouse 2. - The day after the battle, Parvati Patil sent an owl to Lavender Brown's parents. - The day after the end of it all, Hermione skipped lunch and found her favorite secluded corner of the library instead. The chairs stood silent and sober, all gouged dark wood. The high windows threw light gleaming across the polished table, catching on the dust motes drifting through the air above it. She dumped her carry-all down on it and reached inside-- up to her elbows, her shoulders. She tried not to feel like it was eating her alive and she pulled out protein bars and unicorn horn and crumpled wanted flyers. She wasn't sure when it had gotten so cluttered-- sometime before the night in the ditch outside the little Scottish village with the awesome curry shop. Sometime after the time they hid out from a storm in an unknowing Muggle's barn, wrinkling their noses at the itch of hay as they ate their dinner. Hermione had taken first watch, listening to the thunder roll over the shallow hills outside, and she'd gone through her bag pouch by endless pouch. Harry had twitched in his sleep with every flash of lightning, but everything in her bag had been where it was supposed to be. She summoned a wastepaper bin to hover beside her and got to work. Quills and ballpoint pens went in a neat heap to her left. Books she stacked by subject matter around her, except for the ones she flew back to their homes on Hogwarts shelves. She checked potions ingredients for decay, tossed the bad ones and wrapped the good ones back up in their oiled cloth and ziplock bags. She ate a protein bar while she piled duct tape and the radio and a travel-sized magnetic foldable Muggle chess set and a depleted first aid kit all up around her. She threw the wrapper away and wondered if the smell would ever come out of the bag's insides, or if she should just buy another one. - The day after the battle, they started putting the stones of the castle back into place. They put bones back together, first, skin and knit muscle and tendons. McGonagall escorted every statue and suit of armor back to where it belonged. Sue Li sat atop a pile of rubble and ate the biggest chocolate bar she'd ever seen her life. She thought she could still taste a film of Polyjuice on her tongue, but she told herself that was dumb. She dropped little pebbles down the ragged tumble of stones, counting their bounces and calculating averages, until Astoria Greengrass showed up with a glass of water and a pasty and put them down beside her. Astoria got her hands dirty every chance she got, put her back into sweeping up glass shards or hauling bandages or Wingardium Leviosa-ing stone blocks the size of a horseless carriage. She would stay in the castle as long as she could, finding odd tasks and errands and corners to lurk in. When she finally went back to the Greengrass family estate, it would be to pack her bags, kiss the old house elf on the cheek, and steal her dog away with her. - The day after the battle, Ron went out to Hagrid's cabin in the stubborn chill of the afternoon and sat in his pumpkin patch. He didn't go knock on the rough-hewn door, and Hagrid didn't come out, but after twenty minutes Fang trotted into the yard and patiently got slobber all over his shirt. Ron watched the sway of the shadows beyond the Forest's edge. Buckbeak's old tying post stood among the twining squash vines and their giant fuzzy leaves, the metal ring hanging empty against weathered wood. He thought about Ginny brushing her thumb over Harry's scars and wrapped his hands over the pale marks that curled around his wrists. When the air started biting and the sky started darkening, Ron pulled himself back to his feet and climbed up to the library. He had never lived there, never really liked its labyrinth of stacks and dusty air, but he knew the way there better than he knew the way to the Quidditch pitch or the Room of Requirement or all those other places he liked so much more. It was empty, except for Hermione, and he was glad. She squeezed her last book into her bag and looked up at him, shoving her hair back off her forehead. "They doing dinner down there?" she said, her dry throat rasping on it. He shrugged. "Mum's organizing, I think. It-- helps, I think." She nodded, looking down to do the clasps up slowly, one by one. "I just wanted to go back to the tent," said Ron. "Be alone. It's quiet." "I won't get in your way," she said. "It's still pitched down there." "I know," he said. "With you, I meant." "That's not alone," she said. "I'm not quiet," she said. She clasped and unclasped the bag. "Words. Accuracy. I never claimed to be the clever one." "But you are, Ron--" "Hermione," he said. "Come with me? You shouldn't be sitting here alone. Come home." They went down the grass through chilling air. Ron could hear his mother in his head, telling him to take her bag and carry it for her, but he just reached out for her hand. - The day after the end of it all, Ron laid on the floor of the tent, counting stitches in the canvas, while Hermione read Hogwarts, A History like she didn't have it memorized. She read her favorite parts aloud, stopping mid-sentence when the tent flap rustled and opened. "Ginny's sitting on Neville until he agrees to sleep in a real bed and not a pile of shrubbery," Harry said, stepping inside and shutting it up behind him. "She got Luna to help because she says otherwise Luna will just fade into a corner and not come out for food." He hunched his shoulders. "I'm not intruding, right?" "Don't be daft," said Ron and patted a bit of floor next to him. "C'mon, join in, Hermione's trying to bore me to sleep. I suspect it's an act of caring concern." Hermione threw a pillow at his head without looking up from the pages. The day after the battle, they fell asleep in a tangle in the center of the tent that they had lugged across their country, across these long, cold days of the war. They had danced here to the radio, had chewed protein bars, played chess and bled and yelled at each other. But the war was over and they were growing into it, slow, staying up too late as they leaned into each other and whispered on this threadbare rug. They meant to wobble to their feet and get to bed, but Harry was clinging to Hermione's hand and none of them wanted to go. They would get too old for this-- hard floors and the way Harry's neck was cricked up on Ron's bony shoulder. Hermione's snoring would get worse and Ron would have to sleep with four carefully arranged pillows to stop his back from aching in the mornings, but Harry would always have a place here. He had slept on Ron's bedroom floor at fourteen, leaned on Hermione outside his parents' broken home. In the weeks after the battle, Hermione would track down her parents and move back home, and they would all help the Weasleys rebuild the Burrow. Harry would move in Andromeda Tonks's spare room. "We're almost like family, after all," she'd say briskly, shooing him into the house and showing him where she kept the tea, Teddy's diapers, and the whiskey. They'd come for visits and talk through the night in each of those homes, curled up under Molly's quilts or out on the Granger's back porch swing or over fingers of firewhiskey with Andromeda. In the months after the war, he and Ron would get a flat while they went through Auror training and Hermione would crash there five nights out of seven. Her university textbooks would take over their countertops, shelves, tables, and floor and Harry wouldn't tease them (too much) for how hilariously long they tried to pretend it was the couch Hermione slept on. Every home Ron and Hermione lived in, for the rest of their lives, would have a place for Harry-- a spare room or a patch of floor or an old sofa. He would know how Hermione took her coffee, and his favorite cereal and Ginny's favorite oatmeal would always been in the cupboard, and their children would have giggly cousin-sleepovers in magical tents they pitched on the living room rug. When the kids came shrieking in to wake them at absolutely unacceptable, ugly hours, Ginny would groan curse words they'd repeat gleefully among themselves, but Harry would let them grab his hands in their little sticky ones and pull him barefoot and messy-haired out into the morning.

#someome prompted me to write about the days after the battle.of hogwarts...#but i lost the ask #harry potter

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cutiecrates · 4 years

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Cutie Reviews: Gacha Gacha Crate Jan 20

Right after I began to work on my last review, this box showed up the exact same day <3< but maybe that’s good because look, I’m back again! This is also good timing because I bought a brand new storage container for my Gachapon as my previous one is way too full. If I was making videos I would show you guys my clean-up, transfer, and organization process of the whole ordeal I’ll be dealing with once I finish this. But I’ll be sure to include some pics with my next post for anyone curious!

With that, I hope everyone enjoys themselves~

One Punch Man Keychain

Our first item is this detailed keychain featuring 5 characters from a superhero manga-turned anime One Punch Man. These are by Takara Tomy A.R.T.S.

As you can expect I don’t know this series at all, it’s not really in my preferred genre. So besides some pictures i know nothing about this series, other than the fact the character I got is named Genos.

The figure is about thumb-sized and features a hard-rubber plate with the series name written on it. It’s probably hard to tell from the pic but the detail on this little figure is really good. You can see all these little creases and metal pieces on his torso, and his hair is nice; it even looks like he has earrings.

Initially I didn’t think I would keep this since I’m not into the series, but out of my 5 options I feel like this is who I would have wanted to get anyway, and he’s pretty cool looking. I’m kind of curious in learning more about him.

Banana Animal Keychain

Our next item is this adorable little banana-themed bird from Epoch. There was 12 different banana birds in total (6 birds but one half came on a strap while the other half did not, or in the case of mine, 2 color schemes). These included a banana bird, a choco dipped bird, one with a pink banana peel, a cockatiel with a greenish-yellow peel, one with a brown peel, and a little parakeet in yellow or green.

Birds are so cute, and I love animal-food combi’s, so I thought this was a very sweet little set. I got the little green parakeet; and I’m not joking when I say little, he’s about the size of one finger segment. As a figure its fairly simple, but the coloring is very clean. This would be an adorable little figure to use in a display.

Cinnamoroll Keychain

Are you guys sensing a theme yet?

This is another TTArts gachapon, this time featuring the adorable Cinnamoroll doing a variety of cutesy little things. Each figure includes a nice silver ball chain (and is wearing a hat) and there is 5 in total: Cinnamoroll wearing a vest and holding a cane, Cinnamoroll in a cup, Cinnamoroll balancing on a ball, Cinnamoroll relaxing on a ball, and Cinnamoroll standing with a horn.

I was impressed with the quality of this little figure. In height its about one finger segment, in length its about two (obviously because of his ears :P). The coloring is perfect with no sign of discoloration or uncolored spots, and believe it or not but his entire body is in the cup. Sometimes companies will take a short-cut by finding a way to cover the body or not including the entire thing, but I assure you his is there.

I really like this cute little charm, I’ve been considering hanging it off of something.

Tanuki/Kitsune Mug Warmer

Our next item is from Kitan Club, based on a cute pair known as Tanuki & Kitsune (I might be a little inaccurate on that but I assume thats what it is), a raccoon and fox pair. Each mug warmer is 300 yen, and there are 5 available styles: 2 expressions for each character, and one that resembles a fence post with Tanuki wedged in it.

These fit Small to Medium-sized bottles/cups/containers/tubes, from 260 to 340ml. What makes these extra cute is that they also have a tail on the back, and a ball chain.

Out of the two I would have preferred to get Kitsune/Fox, but they are both really cute.

I didn’t have a drink near me at the time and I wasn’t in the mood to make anything, so I put mine on a bottle of lotion. He seems to like it.

The piece is made from a really soft plush fabric, while the face, ears, and tail are made from a smooth, thin fabric maybe like a very thin imitation leather? I’m not really sure what its called. The lining inside feels a lot like a really soft sponge and is in several layers, ensuring the heat stays in while its being used and probably making sure the hands aren’t burned holding it.

It’s not something I would deem necessary- but it’s very cute and I like cutesy little things like this.

Sumikki Gurashi Watch

Our next item is this big, obnoxiously adorable watch by Koro Koro Collection and is an official licensed product by San-X. Besides Penguin? who I got, there is Neko, Shirokuma, Tonkatsu, and Tokage. Honestly, I was surprised I got Penguin? because usually I end up getting my 2 favorites, Shirokuma or Neko- but I also get Tokage a lot. I think this is actually my first Penguin? piece of merchandise. I really wish I got Shirokuma looking at the colors (and because I got him for another watch two years ago), but they are all very cute.

Anyway, this watch is obnoxiously big but its colors are soft and sweet, and its jelly strap is a really light pretty color with glitter through it (matching the capsule it came in) and it feels very comfortable on the wrist. Also, I wanted to mention it was extremely easy to set even if you can’t read the writing on the included paper (which I couldn’t), so you can put in the exact time and date. I like wearing it, and while I usually don’t wear watches anymore, I’m excited to get a chance to coordinate this with some clothing~

If you need a watch or just like cute Sumikko Gurashi merch, I’d recommend picking one up if you can find these (like on the merchandise store for this brand, or Rakuten. There’s a few gachapon shops I followed on there).

Kirby Dishes

Our last item is this adorable Kirby themed set of dishware by TTArts. As you can see there are 8 pieces in total, a mug and matching plate. The little dishes are ceramic and about half-thumb size. The coloring is pastel and on the back of the mug is the characters name or a saying; as you can see I got Waddle Dee. I really wish I got Kirby (especially one of those last two plates, they look so precious), but I seem to get a lot of Waddle Dee’s from these boxes. He’s cute too though so it’s cool.

The piece itself comes in bubble wrap to keep it safe from any possible cracking or breakage (or as a fun bonus if you like popping bubble wrap like me). I’m not sure it would be worth trying to use, but it would make a really cute big doll or re-ment set piece. Or maybe you could find something to store in it, like some paper clips or a pen.

- - - - - - - -

With everything mind, I enjoyed this box :3 it was all very cute and the details on everything is clean and perfect. But in all honesty, I kind of feel like its a little limited in comparison to the past 2 boxes, which I felt like had better sizing with the items and more involvement. I’m not sure with all the tiny pieces we got that this was worth the price, but I did like the items and I would still recommend them if any of them sounded interesting to you. I also like how most of the capsules came in my favorite type, the colored clear sphere with a clasp you have to lift. I LOVE those ones.

If I had to pick a favorite item, I believe mine would be the Sumikko Gurashi watch! It’s so cute and fun, and unlike everything else I know it will be used. In fact I plan to wear it while I go through my collection~

Until next time, stay cute~

#cutie reviews #gacha gacha #gachagachacrate #sumikkogurashi #kirby gachapon

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borkasaurusrex · 7 years

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(D·N·C) SEASON 1 | EPISODE 1 | "PILOT"

(Heya! Ellie here!

This here block of text is a story form of one of my more popular series on Bitstrips, D·N·C! (formerly DNC and formerly formerly doesNOTcompute)

It’s a lil’ different than what I usually post but hey! I’m a fidgety girl that does fidgety things!

... I mean, it’s obvious at this point.

Anywho! Uhm... enjoy! :D)

That day started the same way as most great legends of yore do.

With a car crashing through a Dairy Queen and into a suburban mailbox, in ten seconds flat.

Let me explain.

The morning started normal enough. The light poured through the open bedroom window, coating the mostly wooden room in its yellow sheen. Curled up in a rosy bed, eyes squinting open from the bright morning light, was what looked like a boy. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, eyelids so heavy that after the third blink they, well, didn't open back up. Turning over on his side and pulling his sheets high up to his chin, the boy began to doze back off to slee -

BRRR!! BRRRR!! BRRRRR!!

With a gasp almost as loud as the alarm, the boy slumped heavy over the side of the bed and smacked into the carpet below, his blankets following right after - and on top - of him. The radio/alarm clock on the nearby nightstand glowed to life, the numbers '6:55' illuminating bright like red beacons from, well, a radio. And, from said radio, a muffle laugh exploded out, a gruff voice following:

"Good moooorning Calcheri Valley! While I was studying the blade, you were, well... just studying. Because it's that season yet again, gremlins of all ages. Ah yes, the dreaded education prison! Only at this jail, good behavior doesn't give you time off the clock. It gives you anxiety, fear, and a general feeling of loneliness and existential dread that will creep into your life and mind for the rest of your life. But hey: they have bosco sticks. That's sure something!"

The boy slowly pulled himself up, throwing the sheets back onto his bed in a crumpled mess. He walked across the room one heavy foot at a time, stopping at his closet door. He grabbed the handle and pulled it open slowly. A small bundle of shirts and other clothes poured out, covering his feet and most of the floor around. He groaned.

"So anyway, onto more important things - like me!" the radio continued, "I'm your host, Ben Dover, your local hunk of junk and spunk. Whazow!!"

The boy stuck one leg through a pair of plain blue jeans, leaning his weight against the wall his free hand. He slipped his other leg into the right hole, pulling it up to his waist... then stopped. He reached down towards his crotch. Smooth. Two pockets. And, on his tuckus?

A zipper. He groaned louder.

"Up next: McGruff, with Living Like You're Dying. You're listening to 133.7: Great tunes, great vibes, great thighs. What's not to love?"

The teen pulled on a dark jacket, rolling his shoulders. He zipped the jacket up... then back down. He tried zipping just an inch or two up, he tried halfway, he even pulled it all the way up to the collar. He finally zipped it open completely, letting it hang loose. He turned his body around towards the door, a long mirror taped to the white wood. Slipping his feet into a pair of extraordinarily plain black shoes, he faced the mirror, holding open his jacket... then closed it over his chest. He opened it back up... then closed it again. He held it open one last time, eyes narrowed... and let out a low, whisper of a sigh.

"Open, definitely."

Looking up and down himself in the mirror, the boy didn't think he looked half bad. A little plain, sure, but not terrible. His face was surprisingly average, the only defining feature being his greenish hazel eyes, and even those were about as bright as a rotting ficus. He brushed his shaggy brown hair out of his face to the side... and brushed it right back again. He thought about it for a second... and decided not to touch it. You don't mess with a classic. Red shirt, blue jeans, black jacket. He looked like an American dream. Or, well, a Midwestern staple anyway.

"Oh well..." he mumbled to himself. "Let's get this over with."

He reached a hand over to the doorknob, placing it on that nasty thing, and giving it a light yet tight twist.Then, with a low click, the door pulled -

From outside came a thundering crash, an incredible bang that so loud it shook the nearby curtains and picture frames like an earthquake. The boy spun around, eyes wide, running over to the nearest window and throwing the curtains open in a panic. Outside the dirty window was a wide, stretching view of what looked like your typical suburban cul-de-sac, everything in sight either a hue of brown or green. Maybe a little yellow, if you squint. Hard.

Directly outside the window, though, was a front yard. The grass was perfectly trimmed, bright, bordered cleanly by brown mulch and rocks. It was flawless - besides the dark red convertible smashed and smoking through the front gate, anyway. Under its front tires was the broken remains of a wooden mailbox, bits of wood from it and the fence scattered as far as the front door. Inside the car was only smoke - if there was a driver, they were long gone by now.

The boy could hear the faint sound of police sirens. He sighed.

"Looks like it's gonna be one of those days..."

Standing in the green front yard was a man. Very tall, slim, long hair that clearly hasn't been combed in forever yet squeezed tightly into a ponytail. He squinted his eyes at the wreckage next to his slippered feet, stroking his scruff in thought with one hand, pink doughnut clenched in the other.

"I wonder..." he mumbled, taking a small bite of his pastry.

"It's a car, dad."

A boy stepped out from behind, the same boy from before, backpack slumped over his right shoulder. The man chuckled. "That... that it is."

"What happened, do you know?" the boy asked.

"The police. They just, uh, left. They gave me this doughnut too, pretty sweet, huh?" The boy's dad took another bite, then continued, "They said that some guy stole a car - parolee, I'm pretty sure. He panicked when he saw the fuzz on his tail, tried to take a right turn, and ended up plowing straight through a Dairy Queen, kitchens and all. It was the one on Elm, y'know?"

The boy nodded. "I know the one."

"So, uh, he smashed right through that palace and, well, he drove down Fig, through the Myers' place, and ended up nicely over our mailbox, over here. The police showed up, gave me this 'nut - that's 'nut', by the way, short for doughnut - you came out here, and... well, then we come full circle. Or half. Maybe three quarters if we're lucky. Shit, I'm bad at math."

"I see where I get if from," the boy said, smirking. "So, uh... what happened to the guy? The parolee?"

"They took the mail and ran, the classic bamboozle. But hey, on the bright side: no bills!"

"... That's not how it works."

"Eh, killjoy," his father sneered. "Speaking of joy killing, should you be, like, at school right about now? It is your first day, the last thing you want is to be that kid, right Axel?"

The kid, Axel, shook his head. His father chuckled.

"That's what I thought," he mumbled. "So, uh... you want to take the bus, or...?"

"They don't come to our neighborhood."

"Ohh, right. The whole 'out of school jurisdiction' shenanigans and all that. Oh well... you want to hitch a ride today, then?" His pops turned around, jerking his thumb towards a beaten black SUV with one of those gaudy pink mustaches decals on the front. "I've got an appointment, but... eh, I can drop you off. Quickly, though. Urgent business, you know."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "What kind of business?"

"I'm meeting with billionaires. Royalty, if you can believe it."

"... Are you talking about Dairy Queen?"

"Not today. The queen's a little... well... she's a wreck, that's all I'm going to say," his father explained. "The King, though? Oh, I could go for some beef."

"Oh my God, dad," Axel groaned. "Can we just go, please?"

"Oh, okay. Fine. Just lemme bust this 'nut and we'll be - "

Axel's mouth hung open, eyebrows turned upward. "That is not what that means, dad."

"Sure it is. What ELSE would it mean?"

RRRRRING!

The pale halls of Calcheri High School became loud with the slamming of doors, the stampede of teenage feet. Hundreds upon hundreds of teens of all (well, most) ages flooded the halls, going this way or that. The thunder of dark red lockers pounding open, the giggles and laughter from the smallest girl to the largest bloke.

The school year was now in session.

From out of the multicolored, bulging crowd was Axel. Taped black binder in hand, he waded in and out of the incoming kids, making his way down the barely-lit main hall. He was walking steadily until he stopped suddenly, a large, very tall object blocking his path. He frowned, looking up.

In front of him was a ladder. Orange. Long, as most are. On top of the towering steps was a man. He was older but not old. Fatter but not fat. A sort of an in between guy, really. He brushed his long curled hair out of his face, grumbling to himself while picking the ceiling with what looked like a screwdriver.

"Uh... hey, Mr. Davidson!" Axel cried, looking upward. "What's up?"

"Exactly!" Mr. Davidson turned his head towards the boy, face moist and red with sweat. "I... I've been trying to get this - whatever it is - off the dang vent but it's not working! I... what is it, anyway? Putty? Slime?"

Axel's head craned, squinting his eyes. "Gak, I think."

"He does this, he always does this!" Mr. Davidson exclaimed. "Even in Valley Middle, he... gah, it won't budge!"

"Uh... who always does - "

"Your friend! The... short one."

"Weston?" Axel asked. "Well... uh, yeah, I can believe it."

"Every year, every damn year..." Davidson grumbled, giving the vent a long, screeching scrape. "It's always the same thing, always. He puts up a trap, something I have to clean up, like graffiti or a bunch of trash, and then, when my back's turned... BOOM! That's when he... y'know, does it."

Axel scrunched his brows. "Does what?"

"Does... the thing! One year it was a pie to the face, the other it was a firecracker in my pants. It's always pain, always. I swear, if his father wasn't such an important donor to the school, I would - "

"Uh... hey, Mr. Davidson?"

The teacher leaned over the top step. "What is it, ElRite?"

"You say Weston sets a trap... then 'gets' you when you're least expecting it, right?"

"Yeah, precisely. What's your point?"

"Well, you're on a ladder... inspecting a mess... and, uhm... there's a rope. Right there."

Davidson looked down, and, sure enough, a thick brown rope was tied to the leg of the ladder. He looked back up, eyes wide. "Huh. So there is."

As if on cue the rope was tugged hard, pulling the ladder leg up and the rest of it straight down. A cry barely escaped Davidson's lips as it slammed into the floor, shattering the plastic and sending the man flying across the tiled ground. He slammed right into an open locker, and, before he could pull himself up the door was thrown shut, slamming the metal hard with an audible click! from the lock. Next to the locker and howling so hard with laughter that it sounded like dying wheezing, was a boy. He was pretty short, only coming up to Axel's chest, and he wasn't the tallest teen around either. The fellow was black, his basketball shorts black, his beanie black, and his shirt... was blue, actually. But dark blue, though, so that kinda half counts.

The guy let out a loud chuckle, literally slapping his knee after. He turned to Axel, and gave him a wicked grin. "What's wrong, Ax? You seem a lil'... locked up! Ahahaha!!"

"Can you let him out now?" Axel asked. "He's got classes, Weston."

The boy, Weston, rubbed his chin like a philosopher of yore, clearly thinking. He then smiled. "Aaaaaah... nope!"

A teacher, judging by their clothes and nametag, turned around the hall, beelining straight for Weston. The small guy squeaked out a "Shit!", turning heal and sprinting away at high speeds, shouting "See you later, fuckers!"

Axel winced as his friend slammed face first into a column, slumping onto the ground like a bag of wet potatoes. The red-clad teen couldn't help but sigh.

RRRRRING!

The classroom boomed with the scrapping out of metal chairs, desks pushed away and dozens of feet making their way out as fast as they would take them. Mr. Davidson stood in front of a chalkboard, loudly trying to catch the fleeing students attention, "Hey, don't forget about the worksheet on page 32, it's... due tomorrow..." but it ultimately fell on absent ears.

Well, absent expect for two. Rummaging through her bag, and swearing under breath, was a girl. She was as pale as the papers on her desk, long red hair constantly falling in her face, to her obvious frustration. She narrowed her eyes, drawing a breath as she finally managed to -

A hand grabbed her shoulder, jerking the redhead up with a gasp. An angry one. She whirled around, teeth clenched... but paused.

"Fuckin' hell, Axel, you could've given me a heart attack!" she cried, voice laced with an accent somewhere between Daniel Howlter and Lena Oxton. So... pretty dang British.

Axel's frowned, mumbling, "Oh. Sorry."

"Look, mate, it's okay, just... don't do it again, alright?" the girl asked.

Axel nodded. She blew air hard through her nose.

"Okay, good," she said. "I... uh... was there something you wanted to talk about, or...?"

"Uh, yeah. Well... kinda," Axel replied. "Weston got this GameStop gift card, for his birthday I think... and he, well, wanted some company while he was browsing and stuff, you know? You wouldn't mind... right?"

"Sorry, mate," she grunted, pulling her backpack on her lap. "I'm busy."

Axel grinned, brow raised."Busy? With what? Detention?"

The redhead didn't answer. Axel's playful smile slowly turned into a frown.

"... Wait, I was... uh... just joking. You didn't... right?"

She pushed up her glasses, then zipped up her bag. Not a word.

"Evanna." Axel put a hand on her shoulder, trying to look reassuring but the closest he could get was a wonky grimace. "You can tell me. I'm... not going to judge you, or anything.

"I know you wont," she said, "It's just... I wasn't thinking and they had it coming, and -"

"Who? Hazen? Cameron? Jobe?"

She sighed, pushing her glasses back up again. "All the above."

"And plus I had to pick something up after school, but guess what now?" she continued. "Guess that's fifty dollars down the sodding drain, huh?"

Axel paused. He thought for a couple seconds before muttering, "... I can pick it up for you."

Evanna turned around, brows raised. "What?"

"I said... I can pick up whatever it is you, well, bought," Axel said, "I can do that much."

"No, I wouldn't have - "

"Evanna, please. Just let me help."

Evanna's eyes widened, a grin forming on her lips. "You... you would really do that? For me?"

He nodded, smiling wide. She smiled right back.

"So, where'd I got to go? Walmart? Target?"

"Ah... no. The Black Shack."

He looked down, smirk quickly shifting to a frown. "... You... you mean the Black Shack? The - "

"Yes, the pawn shop. Y'know, the one on the edge of town? That isn't too much to ask, is it?"

He brought back his composure, bringing a smile back. "Uh... no, of course not! I'll get it done! I swear!"

RRRRRING!

Evanna shot up, slumping her bag over her shoulder. She grinned, putting a hand on Axel's shoulder.

"Best get a move on," she said, walking away, "Don't want to be late, mate."

She slammed the door shut on her way out, leaving Axel completely alone in the empty classroom.

He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples idly. "The edge of town... the Black Shack... tonight... alone. Welp... what's the worst that can happen?"

Axel pushed the rusted doubled doors open, the thick smell of musk and cigarette smoke overwhelming his senses immediately. He stepped into the building, replacing the warm wind of the outside with the cool overworked AC of the shop inside. The place was large yet small, everything some various shade of brown except for a couple of neon signs on display, the carpet, and not much else. The walls were packed to the absolute brim with multicolored, mismatched junk, from big pencils to full on severed animal heads displayed above the cashier's counter like some sort of grim decoration. Below the heads there was a wooden sign, reading 'The Black Shack'.

The door slammed behind Axel, sucking out the last of the Autumn air and making such a huge slam! the teen almost jumped. Almost. It was more of a flinch than anything. He slowly walked across the main area of the pawn shop, eyes dancing over the shop's many... unique wares. He stopped at the counter, where a tall, almost stupidly buff man stood there with a salmon shirt so tight it looked like it was painted on. He had a nametag, 'MUSTAFA' sloppily written on with Sharpie.

The man's mouth stretched across his face, in a... smile? Frown? Both? It was hard to say. Anyway, the man, Mustafa, looked down at Axel, and, well, did that again, saying, "Ah... well, suck my ass and call me Dyson. I thought it was you. I could smell the teenage mediocrity the second you opened the door."

"Uh... is that a good thing?" Axel asked.

"Maybe, maybe, who knows..." the cashier shrugged slowly, cracking a toothy grin. "But, bah. Whatever. Why can I do for ya, boy? Is it... did you come for the circumcisions?"

To say Axel was confused would be an understatement. "... Circumcision?"

"Yeah. Y'know, circumcisions. It's when you take a small boy, keep them from wormin' and squirmin', and take a fresh knife and just real easy take a small snip from their pe - "

"Jesus, I know what it is! Christ, it's just... don't you need, like, a doctorate to that or something? Or you could go to... like, jail."

Mustafa chuckled deep. "Not if you don't get caught."

He laughed again at seeing the boy's expression, adding, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. We only supply the most legal circumicisions in these parts, my word. So, uh... yeah. Did you have a question, or...?"

"I'm here to pick up."

"Okay. Cool, cool..." Mustafa took out a small paper taped to the register, squinting. "What's the name?"

"Seelig. Evanna Seelig."

The big man raised his eyebrows, leaning over. "School must be torture, huh?"

"It's not my name," Axel explained, "I'm... picking up for a friend."

"Okay, give me a sec..." the cashier ducked under the counter, coming back up with a large cardboard box he was ruffling in with his spare hand. He pulled out a CD, black, with a group of boys on the cover with enough tattoos to give a Republican a heart attack. "Here it is! ''Till Death Do Us Mario Kart', Cataclitsm's newest album. Free razor blade in every package!"

His smile became strained. "I'm serious."

Axel took the CD from him slowly, saying, "Uh. Thanks."

"No problemo. Have a nice day!" Mustafa waved at the teenager while he walked away from the counter. Axel slipped the CD into his jacket pocket, grabbing the front door with his free hand and pulled it -

The door slammed open hard, almost knocking Axel straight over. Before the boy knew what was happening the man behind the door grabbed him by his jacket collar, pulling him close and - to Axel's horror, drew what looked like a gun and pointed it at his chin. The couple of customers in the shop were terrified, screaming. One customer tried to make a dash to the backdoor, only for a second man to jump out of nowhere, tackling the woman to the ground and slamming his fist into her jaw, her head falling limp onto the carpet below.

"Everyone, hands where I can see 'em!" the man behind Axel yelled, taking a rugged ski mask out of his pocket and tugging it over his balding dome. "This is a robbery!"

Axel knew he couldn't break free. He knew he couldn't scream, couldn't run away. He couldn't do anything, anything at all... except groan.

The autumn air of Calcheri Valley became flooded with long, shrieking scream of sirens. The source of the cries came from three police cars, SUVs, pulling up into the now barricaded-off parking lot of the only pawn shop in miles - The Black Shack. Dozens of citizens, ranging from worried soccer moms to pumped up edgelords, were plastered to the barricade, trying to scoot closer or to crane their head for a better look, but the surrounding police shoved back anyone who tried.

With a loud slam! the door to the biggest police car threw open, a single black cowboy boot stepped out onto the pavement below. A second boot followed, then a gloved hand, slamming the door shut behind its owner. He was a big man, not really length wise but definitely width. He was dressed in a traditional police uniform, a black cowboy hat tipped over his brow. He took the cigar out of his mouth, lips tracing the area it was, and let it drop onto the floor.

He took a couple of wide steps forward, coming up to a pair of younger looking cops a couple of feet away from the front door. The closer one's eyes widened as the man walked close, stuttering out, "Oh! Chief! We, uh, didn't expect you to make it out here today, sir - "

"What's the situation?" the chief asked, tone laced with a Midwestern drawl.

"Two men have the building on lockdown. At lease one is visibly armed," the police officer replied. "The other... we're not sure. But we're not going to take any chances, sir."

The chief grinned, taking out another cigar. "Good. S.W.A.T. inbound in five minutes so let's just try to stall in the meantime so nobody gets - "

"That's it? That's all you're going to bloody do?"

The three police men turned their heads and looked down, at the five-foot-something redhead girl standing directly behind them, arms crossed and all.

One of the younger cops looked around, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "How... how did she - ?"

"Evanna Seelig." The chief turned around, smile wide yet strained. "I would ask what you're doing out here all by yourself, but I'm frankly scared of the answer. Maybe you - ah, your father's here, isn't he? Please, remind that man that until he gets a valid licence in this country he is not allowed to interfere in our busi - "

"He's not here," Evanna interrupted. "I'm alone."

"Ah. Then, maybe you just wanted to look at the crime scene? Because, if so, you can do so behind the safety of the barricades over there, where everyone else is - "

"My friends in there, probably scared out of his bloody mind and you're not even doing anything?" Evanna asked, tone harsh. "You're just all standing around with your head up your arses instead of actually doing something about - "

"We can't just run on in there willy-nilly. If we did, your friend will be die," the chief growled. "Look, we've got this under control. Just run off and let us handle this, okay?"

With a puff, Evanna turned around, slowly walking away from the shop.

"Under control my arse..." she muttered under her breath.

"Run along, now," one of the police officers added, taking a sip of his Big Gulp. "This is no place for little girls."

Evanna felt her face redden, her fists clench. She had over a dozen comebacks she could snap back, half of which would get her arrested, but... she held her tongue. She jammed her hands into her pockets, making her way back to the barricade with everyone else.

"Good luck, Axel..." she whispered, "You're going to need it..."

"All right, let me have a look at ya's..."

The tension in the Black Shack could be cut with a Frank 'N Furter-esque meat cutter. The dozen or so people in there were on their knees, bound by rope to one of multiple vintage barbershop poles in the pawn shop. The folk in there were mostly older, expressions ranging from terrified to slightly inconvenienced. The man standing above them all wearing a ski mask, however, was... less stressed about the whole situation.

"Hmm... not too bad, not too bad..." the man paced back and forth, wet boots squishing on the open carpet. He turned his head to the right, eyes narrowed at his guests. "Here's the deal, duckies. My friend and I's the boss of this joint now, so if any of ya's so much as think ya want to play hero or some shit like that, well... don't. Or it's the gutter for ya!" He pulled out his gun, a small pistol, and whipped out around towards an older man who at this point was bawling his eyes out. The burglar chuckled, stuffing the firearm back in his pocket. "Good... good."

"Now, uh... where the fuck is - oy, there ya are!" The man craned his head towards the nearby back door, which was wide open, with the second robber from before stepping in.

"Sorry, dude," the second man mumbled, brushing his hands on his jeans. "Had to take a piss."

"There's a bathroom right over there, dumbass." The first man jerked his gun behind him, towards an ajar door in the corner.

"I know, but... the smell in there is horrid," the second man explained, "I'm a man with standards, you know."

"You could've gotten caught, ya twink! Lookie outside, there's cops up the whazoo out there! If ya blew this operation right outta the gate, I'd..."

"Raise your voice? Swear? Use unnecessary slang terms to put your point across?"

The first guy paused, thinking it over. Begrudgingly, he muttered, "... All of the above..."

"But, uh, 'ey, that's not important!" he continued, turning back to the crowd of onlookers. "We're here to steal some shit and get out unscathed! An', I don't know 'bout you, but my finger's are feelin' awful sticky right now!"

"Try adding a lil' Vaseline to your showers," his friend said. "Trust me: it works wonders."

"I... it was an expression!" the burglar cried, teeth bared through his mask. "Dumbass!"

"Bah, whatever! Grab the bag and let's get to work! Whoo!"

He threw a bag to his friend, the second catching it effortlessly and scooping an entire counter's full of trinkets into it in moments. The two searched around and under everything, shoving everything from the smallest junk to the most expensive treasure into the sack, all while laughing like criminals in a bad police drama.

Axel watched it all in silence, the man tied tied onto his pole with him passed out. Craning his head to the right, Axel saw it: the back door, still slightly open from when the second robber came in. He furrowed his eyebrows, grinding his teeth, and turned his head around, where the CD he came to the Black Shack for was laying directly behind his tied fists.

I've got an idea, he thought, droplets of sweat forming on his brow. It's stupid, but hey. It's an idea...

A loud skid echoed through the parking lot as a large, dark blue van pulled up into lot, 'S.W.A.T.' stenciled on the side in big blocky letters. The chief of police sat up, a wide grin forming under his bushy beard as the back of the truck burst open, and half a dozen heavily armored men came swarming onto the scene.

"Finally! Feels like I've been waiting for years..." the police chief grumbled, turning to two police officers to his side, munching doughnuts. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in position!"

"Yes, sir!" they cried, rushing off out of view.

"Good... good." He drew a walkie talkie off the front of his jacket, turning the frequency and putting the device up to his mouth. "Attention officers! S.W.A.T.'s inbound so back down for now, except... hmm... Jefferson and Stine, report to the front. Who knows, maybe they'll need assist -

"I somehow doubt the sodding S.W.A.T. team need two overpaid, over-glorified janitors to help them, but eh. You learn something new everyday."

"Goddammit Seelig! What the hell did I tell you about coming out here alone? The freakin' ner - "

"I'm not alone," Evanna said, stepping the side. "I brought a friend."

Behind her was Weston, who flashed the chief with a quick flurry of fingers guns and an "Eyyyy!"

"Jesus, it gets worse..." the chief grumbled, holding his temple. "Look. Since I'm a kind, benevolent ma - "

"Debatable."

"- man, I'll give you five seconds to get out of here before I have Jefferson and Stine escort you out personally. Do you understand?"

"Why's that vent open?" Weston asked, pointing ahead

"I... what?" the chief turned around, and, sure enough, on the side of the pawn shop an air vent was wide open, its cover lying alone in the dirt.

The bearded man turned back around, grumbling, "Well, uh, that's where the second robber entered the building when the burglary first happened, obviously. It... it doesn't matter! You're trying to stall, and I won't have - "

"If that's so, then why is no one investigating that area?" Evanna asked. "Couldn't you just go through the vent and sneak into the building that way, without making all this 'armor and guns' display?"

"Well, we can't! The vent is too small! All of our men surely couldn't fit. But... bah! I've had enough of this!" the chief slowly strolled away, towards the S.W.A.T. van in the back. "I'll be back in five minutes and if you two aren't vacant from the reminisce, I'll escort you out myself!"

The police captain disappearing out of view, Weston turned to his redhaired friend, smiling wide. "Hey Eve."

"Hmm?"

He chuckled, nodding his head towards the open vent. "I think I've got a plan... and whoo boy. Is it a doozy..."

"Oh shit, S.W.A.T.!"

"There 'ere? Fuck!"

The two criminals peered through stilted blinds, the second one leaning away with his face twisted in terror. "You... you said we wouldn't get to this point! Y-You said we would be outta here before the cops even knew what's-what! You said - "

"I know what I said," his partner growled, turning his head away and back to the shop. "We've gotta bail, now."

"But what about...?" the second burglar waved his hand around, to the bound onlookers tied to the poles.

The first reached into his pocket, drawing out his gun. He cocked it, smiling. "Easy. We waste 'em all."

Seemingly everyone on the ground screamed and yelled, pleaded for their lives with red panting faces. Their eyes reflected pure horror - similar to the look, actually, of the second burgler.

"We can't kill them! What the hell are you talking about?!" he cried.

"We're already goin' to jail, Hank, there's no escape from this one!" the first yelled back. "Even if we get outta here right now, them... they're witnesses. Just cleanin' up loose ends, see?"

"'Loose ends'? What the crap are you talkin' about? Just listen to yourself, dude - !"

All while the two were arguing and bickering Axel watched, carefully, scanning every movement. The first took a step forward, the second fumbling back in reaction. They did this, again and again, until the second robber was within kicking distance of the teen. Axel peered behind him, nonchalantly, like stretching his neck. His hands fumbled, the teen using the little vision he had to find the CD and grab it. He popped the case open gently, reaching in while avoiding making any sound with the hard plastic. His fingers felt around, towards something different, until... metal. Cold steel. He picked it up, feeling the small object. It was smooth, the top and bottom edges serrated and awfully sharp.

Perfect.

Axel waited for the perfect moment. The first robber yelled "Shit!", causing the second to jump and take just one more step back. Axel positioned himself and, now equipped, he went to work.

He stroked the razor blade across the rope, slowly. Nothing at first.

He ran it across again. Still nothing.

That third glide did it. He felt the bind grow looser and looser until he could feel the pressure off of his aching wrists, his circulation coming back to flow. The older man tied up next to Axel, however, didn't feel anything. He fainted a long time ago.

Axel waited, keeping his body as still as possible. The first burglar walked across the room, pointing his gun at a woman to her obvious horror. The second arched his shoulders, yelling at his partner. His eyes, focus, and full attention was there.

Alright Axel, he thought, bracing his body tight, It's now - or never.

Axel exploded up off the floor, so fast that the second robber barely had time to react to the knee now dug deep in his crotch. He howled, toppling over on top of one of the prisoners below. Now on his feet with adrenaline rushing through his veins, Axel connected eyes with the back exit - and started sprinting.

He ran as fast as his body could take him, beelining straight to the door. He was getting closer, and closer, and closer. He reached his arm out, fingertips brushing the metal, and then -

"Got ya, ya little shit!" The first burglar shouted into Axel's ear, grabbing his jacket tight. Axel panicked - he stopped, trying to tear off his outerwear while the criminal pulled him closer, and closer, a wide grin brimming on his masked face.

The man reached for his gun, snickering, "Should have kept your head down, kid..."

Suddenly, there was a rumble. Quiet at first but growing so loud that the nearby shelves and trinkets began shaking madly. The source of the noise, judging by everyone's eyes, was above.

"What the fuckin' hel - "

Before the words could escape his mouth the ceiling exploded open, tiles and pipes raining from above justice style. The worst of it, however, was the vent, which fell straight down with a loud WHA-UUMP!, heading straight for the burglar dome.

Before he could get out a "Shit!" the vent crashed on top of him hard, its length so, well long, that it tore through the nearby counter-tops, tables, and everything between, crumbling the store and one of its invaders underneath it with a thundering, floor shaking CRRRRSHHHH!! Axel stood there in front of the wreckage, eyes wider than the door behind him. Swallowing hard, he turned heel, and sprinted right outta there.

The second robber hauled ass, towards the escaping hostage with the look of a man who just watched his partner-in-crime crushed by an air vent. "Hey... you!" he shouted, voice as wobbly as his hand, which he used to reach to the floor and pick up his friend's firearm. He cocked it back, aiming to the back of the almost gone teen... and screamed as he heard a loud CRACK! and the gun in his hand was gone - as was one of his fingers. He crumbled to the ground, still crying, as the front door smashed open and a couple of armored men ran into the place, the letters S.W.A.T. stenciled... well, pretty much everywhere.

From out of the wreckage and rubble, the first burglar pulled himself out, one arm first, then with a loud "Urrrrgh!" his upper body popped out into the open air, gasping for air and cursing up a storm.

"How... how the hell?" He looked over, at the incoming police arresting his partner and the air vent next to his (probably destroyed) legs. "How... how did - ?"

A foot connected with his chest, sending him falling to the ground with an "Ooof!" He tried to sit back up but he was forced back down, the same foot keeping him hard in place. He squinted his eyes, trying desperately to get a look.

It... it was a girl, a teenager, with long red hair and glasses, looking down at him with an expression between a smile and a sneer. Behind her the end of the vent burst open, a small beanied kid craning his head out, looking as surprised as he was right about now.

"Jesus Eve..." Weston mumbled, grinning. "We really... raised the roof, huh? Ha ha ha!!"

"It's sorta the exact opposite of that but... whatever," she replied.

"Why...?" the robber croaked out, "... Why... would ya do this?"

Evanna leaned in close, pressing him back even farther until he couldn't do anything but wheeze. Then, she said, "The same reason most things are done. Revenge... and male incompetence."

#dnc #school shenanigans #circumcision

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astralsecrets · 6 years

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Broom Flight to "The Hospital" 10/23/2018

I have WILDed into a small bookstore with my grandparents who are talking about something they are planning to do. As they walk away, I go into another room in the opposite direction, hoping to separate from them. This new room is a small library that somewhat resembles the one from my old high school. It has white walls, a white floor and cheap bookshelves made of light-colored wood. There is a group of about eight people who are very different from each other. I join in their gossip and we laugh and joke with each other for a moment. One guy cheekily says to me that I can't kill him. I immediately demonstrate my lucid powers by pinching together my right thumb and forefinger while willing his neck to break. There is a loud snapping sound but his neck does not actually break. It was only a kind of "proof of ability". Everyone laughs, including him, because they know that I could have killed him but didn't. This isn't serious at all because we all know that this is dreamland. I feel even more lucid and powerful now and I walk on, into another area. There are very many people here, unique families of all different kinds. Most people are wearing dark colors, robes and capes even, and are seated at the numerous tables eating lunch. Some of the children have eyes of unnatural colors like red or purple. One blonde boy with red eyes also has fangs that I can see as he laughs, following another child back to the table where his parents are waiting. It is a very big room and there are counters along one side with display cases of different food. Workers are cashing people out and making food. I feel the random urge to remove my clothes, but the presence of children deters me. I start doing it anyway because the clothes feel extremely confining, but I leave on the underlying layers, including some kind of pinkish-nude leggings. I walk further and find myself in a smaller fancier dining room with black leather booths lining the walls. The aisle between the booths is very narrow. Most of the tables are piled with dirty plates and leftover food. There is a group of Asian businessmen in very nice suits. They are having a very serious meeting. I stand there looking down at the food on their table and I see something on their plates that looks like a green bell pepper stuffed with green pesto. I reach down and grab one, intending to try it because it looks good. I look closer, noticing the bell pepper more, then say aloud to myself, "I don't like these anyway," before throwing it casually over my shoulder. I walk a few more steps into the room as the businessmen kind of look at me in surprise. I turn around and cockily demand that they say something to me about it, in English. One man who is standing gestures to the one sitting nearest me, encouraging him to say something. I can't remember if he does or not. I leave the room the same way I came. To the left is the large cafeteria that I have already been in, and to the right is a lofty area with large glass doors leading outside. As I walk towards the doors I notice an Asian woman in business clothes standing next to them. She tells me to have a nice day and I thank her. I then remember the task of the month to ride a broom above the clouds. I look over in the corner near the doors expecting to see a broom. I see one propped there. It has a stick made of gold with an ornamental pointy tip and little stirrups on it just like in the Harry Potter movies. The stick is not perfectly straight, but crooked like the good ones in HP, and the broom head is clean white. I think it is beautiful and that it is made just for me. It is quite short though, only about two and a half feet long. I grab the broom and walk through the first set of door. As I approach the second set, I will the broom to become longer and it visibly does so as I glance at it. It is still not as long as a standard HP broom, but close. I hop on before I reach the second set of doors and begin hovering immediately. I pull a door open with my left hand, holding the broom with my right, and fly out slowly and smoothly. There is a paved path of grey stone there and a mass of children wearing robes and holding books flows towards the doors, obviously excited to go in. They look like first-year Hogwarts students and I begin to hear some HP-like music softly playing. There is a tall statue in the small round courtyard ahead, illuminated by the bright sunny day. There are buildings all around on the other streets, older and smaller than the one I've just exited. There are some large oak trees around the far edge of the courtyard. I float up and out a little more and Ginny Weasley is suddenly there on her own broom, facing right at me. She has that fierce brave look on her face and I, startled, say loudly, "Hey Ginny!" She returns the greeting calmly before looking off to the left. I follow her gaze and see other students flying their brooms in a kind of loose swarm. One of them looks like Hermione Granger, but I only see her from behind. I head in the direction of the other flyers and Ginny follows me. I go higher, rising above the roofs of the nearby buildings. We fly around a corner or two before seeing some very large military airships of some kind landing on a wide highway. I think to myself that it's because I offended those Asian businessmen earlier. There is a loud brass hit in the music when we see the ships, and the soundtrack becomes more intense in general. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Hermione suddenly appear. Ron gives a quick casual greeting before they zoom under Ginny and I. We follow, all of us shooting across the cityscape, flying just above the tops of the buildings. There are freeways ahead, twisting and turning through each other. We attempt to go higher several times, under my direction, but it just doesn't work. It is as if the air becomes a treadmill when we try going up. Just as I'm about to give up, a random person, also on a broom, shows up and tells us that "the hospital" is above the clouds for those who need it. I feel so relieved. We are now able to zoom upwards, possibly because we have a more solid destination. I become fearful at the vastness of the sky, but keep going anyway. It gets darker until it is like night when we reach the cloud layer, which appears as a medium grey against the blackness. When we get close enough to touch the clouds, we begin to disintegrate and are sucked up through them as streams of particles. My vision goes black and then I'm in the hospital. It is a waiting room but doesn't resemble any that I've seen in waking life. This place is apparently some kind of high tech airship, maybe also a spaceship. The walls and floor flow together and are made of a greenish brass metal with lots of grooves and bumps. There are many people sitting around on the benches, all in a good mood, all wearing body suits of mainly white with varying colorful designs and decorations. There are a few small curving hallways leading to other rooms, and windows showing the sky beyond. Somehow I can't remember if it's bright blue sky or dark black night. I look over to my left and see the pilot of the vessel, a black woman. She lets her young son switch a lever for her and they smile lovingly at each other. Her hair is shorter than his, which is quite big and fluffy. I look around again and see another black mother with sleek hair up in a bun. She is leaning over and whispering something reassuring to her white son. He is about the same age as the other boy, eight or nine years old. This place feels so wonderful. Everyone is happy and working together for common goals. I realize that I still haven't seen the top of the clouds, so I allow myself to phase through the floor. I drop down quickly, briefly seeing the flat, smooth underside of the hospital ship and the tops of the clouds which are fluffy somehow illuminated from within with a bright neon pink light. I do not know the source of this light. The sky is pitch black. I go blank for a moment before appearing in my step-grandparent's living room, standing and watching the hospital on the tv. It is day outside. Next to me is a tall thin man sitting in an egg-shaped chair, wearing a suit like the others, except its main color is navy blue and there are more decorations around the collar. He has reddish, very tanned skin, lots of brown freckles, fluffy greying hair and beautiful hazel green eyes. As I look as him he meets my gaze with an incredibly honest and knowing expression. We clasp hands and he smiles at me softly, so seemingly aware. I sustain eye contact, deepening the connections. It feels so good to connect. I realize then that he is me. He is a part of my mind, a part of my awareness. I begin to cry heavy tears of happiness and can't help but smile wide, almost grinning, almost sobbing uncontrollably. After a few moments we turn back to the screen and I see Jodie Foster with her hair pulled back in a sleek pony. She looks like she's in her late forties, maybe even fifty, and is wearing a mostly white suite with little or no decoration. She is alone in a small control room in the hospital ship. there is neon pink light radiating up from the floor and she is concentrating on what she is doing at her standing desk, a solid, light-grey rectangular pillar with an angled touch screen top.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8297989 https://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/dreamphibian/broom-flight-hospital-10-23-2018-85648/

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