#i just love his giant brown cow eyes and it's important to me that they do not go the way of the tragedy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cockasinthebird · 4 years

Note

Now I don’t know if you take requests, but If you do here’s an idea. What about Steve being the King Steve he was, but he’s very slutty one and lets guys fuck him a lot. He would be such a tease to Billy at a party, grind his ass on Billy’s cock on purpose while they’re dancing, because he really wants this hot Cali boy to fuck him senseless already and that’s exactly what happens when Billy finally makes his move and fucks Steve somewhere away from other peoples eyes (Wow this got long sorry!)

Dearest anon, Don’t ever feel the need to apologise for such a long message, especially not one as grand as this!!! Here you go, just grazing 9 pages with the last line, so this is long yes, and I will “warn” you that there’s an excessive amount of dirty talking, at least to my standards, and a bit rough play, but nothing severe of course. Enjoy!

Another Saturday, another unsupervised party in the distant Harrington Mansion, music pulsating so vividly that Billy swears he can feel it through the soles of his heavy boots as he walks between cars parked on the grass.

It doesn't take a fool to know that the high and mighty King Steve has issues with the solitude his house brings, nestled between grand trees, so distant from the rest of the town that there's never once been a noise complaint. That he has issues with the lack of parental attention, and instead seeks to fill the emptiness of his house with his loyal subjects; particularly his bed.

Which might be why Billy always shows up, or maybe not, but who's to tell. Everyone's always at these parties filled with alcohol that Daddy Harrington pays for unknowingly, so it would be weird if Billy wasn't here, too, right? At least he's content with thinking so.

Billy knows loneliness like Steve does, seeks the cure for it just as well, finding brief notions of it when he's got his dick buried in any hole really, his body flooded with liquor, his head pounding to the beat of shitty synth.

So here he is, looking for a saving grace, to have another night filled with sweaty, writhing bodies, stepping through the front door to King Steve's castle once again; having stopped counting how many times around 20.

Just like last week, there's people everywhere – every single junior and senior that knows what's good can be found here, perhaps even a few older drunkards that has nothing better to do in this shit hole town than to crash a high school party.

And just like each and every other time, it's overwhelming in the best possible way. All senses gets fulfilled the second he's completely inside;

Sweaty bodies bumping shoulders as he squeezes his way through the hall, guys patting his shoulders, girls bashing their eyes, and he can't help but grin all smooth and charming at the attention.

Tight jeans and short skirts, bulging muscles and exposed cleavages, all so pleasing to his wandering eyes as his peers twists and turns to ensure he sees it all.

Through the music he can barely hear it when one girl says, “Looking good, Billy,” or when a guy leans in to ask, “Can I get you a drink?” as he makes it into one of the living rooms.

With every breath he takes, a wild and intrusive mixture of perfumes and colognes and deodorants fills his lungs to completion, cheap and expensive alike, and it brings him to life.

All there's left now, is to taste a nice, cold beer, and his soul will be satiated, the checklist for a good party completed, and the festivities could truly begin. But when he turns in to the kitchen, it isn't the giant fridge he focuses on, or the girls passing by, giving him all kinds of bedroom eyes, or the impressive array of chips on display on the kitchen island.

No he sees the host immediately, Steve Harrington, leaning with his back to the wall. His jeans sit a bit more snug than usual, and his tee a bit higher up; not exactly a crop-top per se, but just short enough to expose a gorgeous, wiry trail of hair dipping beneath his pants.

His face is turned towards Tommy Hagan who stands awfully close for that to just be a friendly conversation, and there's no doubt in Billy's mind what they're talking about, if the way Steve's eyes sliding up and down is any indication, or the way he bites into his lower lip.

There is no hiding why Steve is so popular, or why he remains on the top even though Billy managed to beat his keg stand record with ease. Hadn't been any hiding the way Steve leered at him at Tina's Halloween party either.

The first week in Hawkins Billy had caught Steve twice doing the most salacious things, that Billy to this day, 7 long months later, still think about daily.

Steve, on his knees in the showers of the boys locker room one Monday after practice, probably nearly drowning under the water with his mouth wide and stretched around some teammates cock. Even now Billy can recall the way he was moaning and gagging passionately; hears it louder in his mind than the music of the party.

Steve, underneath the bleachers during third period, skipping class to fuck hard into some blonde bitch who struggled to keep quiet as she stood bent forward, arms wrapped around one of the supporting beams for the seats above. And he can still see Steve's lewd expression as he caught Billy staring, Steve's mouth slipping into a sly smirk, eyes dark and heavy as he kept their gazes locked, cumming with the most enticing groan.

Of course that wasn't the last time he saw Steve like that.

Sometimes Steve was the one bent over, against a tree or knees in the grass. Billy has passed by that brown BMW bouncing and wiggling by the side of the road indiscreetly plenty of times. And at almost every party he's attended, he's watched Steve go in and out of rooms with anyone really.

One time he followed along, peeked in through the crack in the door, and watched from start to finish as Steve laid on his back on a desk, hands firmly around his neck, some dude balls deep inside of him.

But with one blink, Steve turns his head and looks directly at Billy, as if he knew the other was watching. And he tilts his head aside, allowing for Tommy to kiss and suck his way down the exposed neck, Steve's lips parting from the smile into something more comfortable.

Billy keeps staring, intently. Walks to the fridge, blindly reaches in to grab what he's hoping is a beer can, then leans against the counter; scarcely ever blinking as to not miss a single second of the show.

And it is ardently clear that Steve enjoys having an audience, enjoys performing. Eyes heavy on Billy, Steve lifts up his right hand in a slight fist, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he simulates giving a blowjob.

Something which Billy can't help but snort at for some reason, despite how the suggestion courses through him rapidly, and Steve seems to find that equally as humorous, as he laughs quietly.

He then grabs Tommy by the chin and guides him off of his sensitive neck. Steve says something that might sound like, “Not tonight,” which wipes Tommy's lustful grin right off. And when Steve looks towards Billy, Tommy's gaze follows right along, and now the freckled guy looks downright pissed off.

Billy stares with a strong intensity, daring him to try anything, as Tommy walks right by with a clear scowl, jaw tense and hands curled by his sides. But he manages to make his way out the kitchen without as much as a word.

When Billy turns to look for Steve again, he finds him standing right by his side, hip against the counter.

“Hi,” Steve purrs.

“Hey,” Billy says and lifts up his beer to take a sip, but Steve is quick to snatch it from his hand, to then drink from it slowly, eyes locked together.

Steve gives a little satisfied hum and licks his lips clean, a gesture that at this short distance sparks inside of Billy's chest, lighting him up.

“What's his problem?” Billy asks and nods in the direction of where Tommy had marched off. “Thought he was dating that Perkins girl.” He tries to play it cool, pretend he's above knowing who's who here, despite the fact that Carol has flirted with him enough times to need more than two hands to count on.

“Him and Carol loves to play this little game where they flirt with others at parties, get all excited at the thought of being unfaithful, then find a place to bang it out.” Steve offers Billy what's left of his beer, which is less than a half, and much less than what Billy needs to keep somewhat calm right now.

“So you and Tommy never...” he trails off, hoping that the insinuation is clear enough.

And judging by the way Steve smiles something so suggestive might just be enough of an answer, yet he says, “Wouldn't you like to know?” And watches how Billy's mouth opens to take a sip.

Neither of them talks as he empties the can. Billy watches how Steve is almost admiring the view; the bob of his Adam's apple, the way his shirt is unbuttoned nearly all the way, the tight fit of his jeans. And Billy wants to say something, a slight quip about enjoying the view, or if he sees something he likes, but it's redundant, because who doesn't like what they see when they look at Billy Hargrove, Keg King.

The tense silence between them gets interrupted, when some drunk girl shouts, “Steve!”

She's got dark hair, a low cut blouse, and an impossibly tight leather skirt. Pretty enough, Billy would say, but he can't remember her name; too many cows around here for him to bother learning what they're all called. It's only important that they know his name, yet it's Steve she calls for and reaches out to grab his hand.

“Steve come on,” she coos and sways even when standing still, “You owe me a dance for doing your essay!”

Steve doesn't resist when she starts pulling him along, just turns to Billy with a certain grin, and says lowly, “Duty calls.”

Admittedly, Billy is kinda impressed with just how easy it is for Steve, or rather, how easy Steve is.

And maybe he spends the next hour thinking about that, as he walks the party with a fresh beer in hand and a searching gaze, always keeping a lookout for where the host might have sneaked off to.

When he stops by the dining table to assist in a victory of beer pong, he's thinking about how often he's seen Steve in compromising positions, rarely ever with the same person twice in a row, but always with such a euphoric expression.

Or when he's standing with a gaggle of girls, charming his way into their hearts, and hopefully their panties, he's thinking about how Steve pays others to do his homework with the pleasure of his company, and how Billy got an A on his history test last week, and how he knows that Steve struggles with that especially.

And when he walks into the other living room that has been designated as a dance floor it seems, he's thinking about that happy trail being exposed whenever Steve raises his arms too high, the way his hair moves fluidly along with the motion of Steve's lively expression, the way his hips goes from side to side in rhythm to the music, and the way his grin twists something so delicious when almond eyes catch angelic blues staring.

Without missing a beat, Steve prances through the crowd; the flow of his body uninterrupted and damn near beautiful as he makes his way to still before Billy's motionless stature, and they share similar smiles as Billy looks at Steve with hooded eyes and something darkening the calm skies in his eyes, tongue out to wet his grin and Steve's appetite.

You Spin Me Round plays louder than Billy's thoughts, and Steve turns his back to him, dancing, arms up, making the shirt expose his dimples of Venus, and Billy finds himself wanting to grab on to the swaying hips, press his thumbs into where the skin dips in the small of Steve's back.

Billy's not much of a dancer himself, but he still sways slightly to the song, shoulders pumping to the rhythm of the least detestable song that's been played so far tonight. All the while he stares at Steve putting on quite the sweaty, twisting, swirling show, and it wouldn't be hard to believe that it is all for the enjoyment of Billy only, despite how others occasionally shoot jealous glares at the pair of them.

He doesn't even notice it when Steve takes a step closer, having once stood a respectable distance away, now so close that Billy can smell perfume on him; whether it's Steve who's gone diving in his mothers drawers, or from girls having been all over him tonight, is an uncertain factor, but he smells good. And perhaps Billy takes a step forward, the movement of Steve enchanting, but the Keg King would absolutely deny it. Deny that there's someone in town who can so easily bewitch him with barely any effort. Deny that he's not in control of this attraction no more than magnets are to metal.

But when there's contact between them as Steve accidentally grazes against Billy with his ass, it becomes increasingly difficult to sustain plausible deniability, and his salacious little smirk falls. And as Steve continues to flow with the rhythm, he meets with Billy's crotch again, this time with more accuracy- more force, and Billy chokes back a, “Fuck,” that wouldn't have been heard no matter what here. When it happens again and again and again, Billy feels heat drain down to pool near his gut, and with every timid grind against his swelling flesh, it ripples through him, like rain breaking surface tension, a fever pulsating.

And this time he takes a definite step forth, pressing himself into Steve's confident movement, who pushes back against him, hips circling around, plump cheeks pressing deliberately into the noticeable bulge now, and although Billy can't see Steve's face, he would bet money on how he's undoubtedly smiling at the attention.

Enough is soon enough, and Billy grabs on to Steve's hips with near brutish force, stopping the irritatingly erratic motion and pulls him as close as possible, so that hopefully Steve can feel just how hard he is.

He leans forward, lips at the shell of Steve's ear, as he growls, “If you don't stop what you're doing, I won't be able to hold back.”

Steve turns his head as far as he can, ass flush with Billy's trapped erection, and shows just how eager he is for that little promise; mouth not turned up in a smile, but hanging wide open as he pants out, “Then don't.” Honeyed eyes drowning in black, lashes fluttering as he gives a tentative roll of his hips, causing Billy to lurch forward, grinding into the friction with a stuttering notion.

Behind a locked door, Steve's desk slams against the wall as he lands on it, Billy shoving at him, tearing off his shirt and dipping down to kiss rudely and bite along the exposed shoulder. Steve with his legs spread wraps them around Billy's firm hips and draws him closer to feel just how eager he is, too, as if the way he's moaning wasn't enough proof of that.

Steve yanks at golden hair to guide Billy up for a desirous meeting of lips, when Billy pulls away to hiss out, “You taste like pussy,” almost in wonder.

“Didn't think you'd mind that,” Steve chuckles then drives his slick tongue into Billy's mean mouth, feels how he sucks it all in, groaning at the mix of spit and booze and pussy that lingers. “How you want me, big boy?”

It takes Billy a second to understand he's being spoken to, as alcohol and his own unadulterated lust mixes in his system, making him grind all animalistic into the spread of Steve's thighs, like a fucking dog humping a leg.

“On your stomach, in bed,” he breathes out wetly and licks his lips to savor what's left of Steve there.

With a hand spread out onto his chest, Steve pushes Billy away, so that he can move off of the desk and step around the hulking, panting stature of Billy's burning hot body. There's a not-so-subtle chime of Steve's belt, his zipper going down a joyous melody, and honestly Billy shouldn't be this surprised to find out that Steve is going commando tonight, and perhaps he always is.

Billy doesn't move at first, paralyzed by the gorgeous curve of Steve's naked ass, how long and perfect his dick is, and he understands now why girls flock to him the way they do. Each and every mole across pale, lean skin the landmarks of a treasure map guiding you down between his legs.

And Steve crawls on to the bed, his knees just on the edge of the mattress, his back turned to Billy still, and he bends over, cheeks spread to expose his tight hole. Moves his right hand down between spread legs where his leaking erection hangs lonely, starts stroking it with slow pulls that brings out fresh moans, while his left hand goes past parted lips; two fingers knuckle deep as he sucks on them, tongue slipping between to get them proper wet and dripping.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” he whines once he's removes his fingers from his mouth. Leads them behind himself, presses both inside with ease, voice stuttering as he pumps them in and out. “Every since I saw you at Tina's party, ahh, when you knocked me off my throne, beat my keg stand record- fuck-” Fingers speed up for a moment, then slows down again, teasing himself- teasing Billy. “I've- I've never felt so defeated, so... alive.”

Billy feels his underwear stick where he's leaking, untouched, but the performance that of a lifetime, and fuck he wishes he had a camera – convinced Steve would be into that, into being filmed like this. He's heard rumors about certain Polaroid pictures circulating school, but he hasn't had the chance to see yet, although that only makes this all the more sweeter, to see King Steve in all his glory afresh.

He tugs his shirt off over his head, unbuckles and unzips, moving closer with a hand down to massage his painful, throbbing cock. Knows that Steve is watching him as he leers at his entrance begging for more, clenching something so unsatisfied at his own two fingers. Without warning, Billy slicks up his own fingers with spit and plunges them inside along with Steve's own two digits.

“Fuck, ahh!” Steve cries out and arches his back, “Your fingers are so thick.”

At a pace set by Billy, they dive in and out, stretching him together, and Billy sees it fit to spit right on him, lubing him up a bit more and moves faster as he intently listens to how Steve is moaning and calling out for more, harder, deeper.

“Jesus Harrington, you're so fucking insatiable...” Billy looks down at where Steve's eyes are closed tightly, knitted with pleasure, mouth wide open to let out all these delicious noises. “Such a slut,” Billy drawls, and is convinced that Steve's ass clenches a bit tighter at that word. Slut. “So hungry for my fat cock, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve whines and nods profusely, opening his eyes finally to catch cold waters meeting his gaze immediately. “Please,” he begs.

And as Billy pulls out his fingers, so does Steve, who brings both hands down to clutch at the bed sheets, his breathing shaky with anticipation, his prick drooling all over the blue covers.

“Lube and condoms in the top drawer, there,” he pants and points to the bedside table.

Where Billy is quick to yank it open and grabs both in one hand; his other continuously stroking himself through the trunks that are suffocating him, knowing that if he didn't keep that barrier of fabric in place, he'd blow far too soon from just the sight of Steve being so damn horny and needy.

“Can't wait to fill you up so good, princess,” he huffs as he slips on the condom.

Steve shakes his ass in a taunting manner with a lazy smile, and Billy can't help but laugh lightly at it, then brings his hand across one cheek, and-

“A-ah!” Steve moans out and presses his face deeper into the duvet.

And the grin that cracks across Billy's handsome features is awfully telling.

“I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby, you won't be able to walk or sit straight for month,” he growls and licks his lips. “When I'm done with you, no other guy in Hawkins will be able to make you cum as good, won't satisfy you the same way I do.”

The cap of the lube pops open, and Billy slicks up two fingers, then promptly pushes them inside to lather Steve's ass up, who whines impatiently and moves his hips against the broad digits.

“Please, Billy,” voice all pathetic, “Just fuck me already.”

“Mmm patience,” Billy coos as he removes himself again, “Don't wanna hurt you by going in too dry.”

He covers his steely erection in a spirited amount of lube, excessively so as he strokes himself through the condom, and then goes to line up with Steve's fluttering hole, gasping, aching to be full. Pushes inside with nary a hint of kindness, bottoming out in one headlong swoop, leaving Steve moaning out long, and Billy grabs on with both hands to quell all motion between them, as he revels in how tight Steve is, how he's sucking him in.

“Oh fuck, Billy,” Steve keens and tries to move, but stern hands keeps him locked in place. “You're so big.”

“Yeah, I know,” Billy chuckles out like rumbling thunder in his chest.

Hands move off of Steve's hips to go grab two fistfuls of soft ass, where he spreads the cheeks as far apart as they can go, as to get a good and proper look at how his girthy cock is sunk deep inside, watches how the rim clench around him with a hunger to be thoroughly fucked. And at a pace menacingly slow, Billy pulls out, feels how every muscle clings to him like he's the most important thing in the world right now, and Steve whines as if it's true, too.

He keeps his stare there, watching with great interest as he moves till just his fat head remains inside, then shoves right back in, receiving the most vivid and alluring cry of his name from Steve's pretty pink lips.

“Billy- fuck, ah-” Steve moans with no inhibition as Billy sets a brutal pace of pulling out just to snap his hips back against Steve's exposed ass.

Skin slaps louder than the music downstairs, accompanied well by the squelching of Steve's dripping wet hole and his lascivious singing of praises and curses; the bed concurring with slight creaks. Steve arches his back in the most gorgeous curve, a pose with his plump ass raised with such expertise it shows just how often he's found himself like this, yet still calls out as if it's his first.

“Shit, princess, harrh, for being such a slut you sure keep tight,” Billy groans out as he slams his veiny cock into the most fantastic velvet heat.

A warmth that stirs perfectly at the base of his dick, waves of it washing down his thighs as he continues to chase his own high with the most ferocious will.

He bends forward, driving himself as deep as physically possible, and brings one hand down onto the back of Steve's neck, squeezing and pressing him into the bed.

“Yes- yes! Ah-” Steve croons like a bitch in heat, eyes rolling back, hands seeking for something to grab on to.

And Billy barks a laugh at how lost Steve becomes, how indignant and uncontrolled his voice becomes.

“You like it rough, huh bitch?” Billy growls like a wild hound, baring his canines and licking across the sharpness there, his thrusts rapid. “Like it when a real man fucks you?”

“Yes,” Steve chokes out, oh so pliant and dazed.

“Mmnh, hah, feel so good inside baby, sucking me in- my thick cock splitting you open.” Billy grazes his teeth across where he can reach on Steve's shoulder.

The response a whine, high pitched and erotic, and Steve reaches for himself-

But his wrist is quickly grabbed by Billy's other hand, pinning it above Steve's head; now most of Billy's heavy body weight pressing onto his neck, and his body tenses tighter.

“Fuck, ah,” Billy grunts as he feels muscles clasp around him like a vice. “Why don't you show me how beautiful you look cumming on my dick alone?”

“Billy,” Steve moans in a telling way of how close he is, and of how helpless he is. “I'm- I'm close-”

“Yeah you are.” Billy grins and bucks his hips all cruel and ruthless; wants Steve to remember this, to maybe be a bit sore after, cheeks red and ass puffy, throat sore from overuse. Want hims to know that absolutely no one else is ever going to make him nearly scream like this. “You're such an easy little whore, Stevie.”

“I am, ah- shit-” Steve admits readily, mumbles something more in agreeance, but all Billy can make out is his own name being called for again and again in tandem with his girthy cock hitting all the right spots.

It barely takes more than that before Steve's cumming; shooting hot and white all over his expensive sheets, body tensing up to a choking point that pulls Billy closer, the tightness unparalleled by any pussy he's ever been this deep in.

“Fuck that's hot,” his voice dripping with lust thick as honey.

“Don't- don't stop, please,” Steve's voice barely there, fucked out and hoarse, body going limp as he whines at the delicious overstimulation.

“Oh yeah, pretty boy? Want me to-” Billy gasps as he can barely manage words as he slams hard against Steve's worn ass, desperately clenching around him, and he stands up fully, plants his feet and digs his nails into fleshy hips. “-Want me to use you? Like a fucking toy?”

“Yes! Yes, Billy, fuck me-”

The wet slapping of skin in perfect harmony with Steve moaning a whole ballad, brings Billy to his blinding climax, forcing a stutter to his hips as he slams home hard enough for Steve to move up the bed, and he calls out with no restraint as his throbbing cock pulsates and kicks; draining him of all heat and energy into the condom buried deep in Steve's desirous hole.

As adrenaline seeps out, exhaustion comes in and he slumps forward, shoving at Steve's shoulder to keep him in place as he twitches and goes soft. Chest heaving, curls sticking to his neck and forehead, thighs sore from a good days work. He rubs the space between Steve's shoulder blades with a firm thumb, who hums pleasantly between equally exhausted pants.

But Billy has to pull out, takes off the condom and ties it neatly, before collapsing next to Steve on the bed.

And Steve rolls on to his side, rests his warm palm on sweaty pecks, smiling all satisfied and admiring the view of Billy's spent dick. “You did good, tiger... think you can go another round?”

Billy snorts abruptly – he can barely keep his eyes open right now. “Are you serious?”

Steve climbs right on top of him, landing with his own impressive cock side by side with Billy's vastly shorter, but definitely thicker, dick. He rocks back and forth all lazy like, sighing with a definite promise of more.

But Billy winces with a sharp inhale and reaches down to stop the motion of those pale hips on top. “Fuck- stop! I'm spent, go find some other hole to fulfill your needs.”

“Hmm...” Steve thinks about something, but climbs off never the less. “I'm gonna give you fifteen minutes, and if you're still to weak after that I can easily find someone else.”

He's quick to get dressed again, leaving Billy to feel, yes, weak and perhaps a bit piteous, sprawled out on King Steve's bed, a mess of sweat next to a pool of semen, yet Steve steps up to him and leans down.

“But,” he coos softly and smiles just so, “If you ever want to do this again, or something else, I can make room for you in my busy schedule.”

And Steve kisses Billy on the lips, making the poorer guy immediately desire more, but as Steve pulls away again, Billy continues to feel defeated and impossibly exhausted.

The last thing he notices before dozing off is the bedroom door closing.

#Harringrove #Lemon #My Writing #request #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Anonymous

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carrot-kun · 3 years

Text

Jack and the Bean stalk (A Fairytale Remix)

Note: This story is inspired by the technique of Double reading, specifically Queer reading.

I stared at the beans in the bag as I walked along the road. These magical beans would surely fetch more money than that annoying cow I sold to the elderly woman! I hopped happily while looking at my friends playing in the field next to my house.

“Jack! Come on! We need one more person!” They shouted at me when I neared them. “I can’t. Mother will punish me if I don’t reach home on time.” I replied with a pout.

“But Sally is joining us! Don’t you want to play with Sally?” They asked with mischievous grins, pointing to a jolly Sally running around with her friends.

“Mother won’t hear my excuses.” I said and waved the crowd away. Showing Mother these magic beans was more important than playing with a pretty girl.

I entered through the open door and shouted for her. Her voice rang from the kitchen, so I ran to her and thrust the bag into her hands. “Mother, look what I brought!” I exclaimed.

“I don’t have time for your games, Jack. How much did you get for the cow?” She placed it down and turned to the boiling pot.

“I got this! I sold the cow to an old woman who gave me this.” I spoke with enthusiasm. “They are magical beans!”

She stopped abruptly, shock washing over her face. “You ... sold the cow for this?” She grabbed the bag and looked inside. With a horrified expression, she threw it out the window and raised her hand.

I closed my eyes in anticipation as her hand landed on my cheek. “Mother!” I looked out at the spilled beans, cupping my cheeks.

“You are sixteen! Don’t you know how to ...” Her voice trailed off. “What did I do wrong for you to be this way?” She sank to the floor and waved me off.

I walked out of the house and kicked the rocks. She threw them away! How could I sell them now?

The night was silent as I slipped under the sheets and looking over to where the lamp was burning a few minutes ago. Mother had prepared to go to Aunt Emma’s when morning arrived. The whole journey was going to take at least four days. Her face was pale and tired. She was going to work herself sick like this.

The morning was dull as Mother put the heavy bag on her back and walked towards the orange sun. I sighed and went to the kitchen to eat the food mother had prepared before leaving. Passively, I looked out the window, remembering the beans.

Humongous green snake like stems twirled around and reached upward. I ran to the back of the house and stood wonder struck at the sight of the towering plant kissing the sky. But these were just seeds yesterday. How had they grown so much?

I wondered how tall the plant was as I walked back towards the house. Locking the door, I ran back to green giant. I put a foot to the side, grabbed the overhead branches and started climbing.

The plant seemed to grow slowly even as I was climbing up, boosting my pace. A long and exhausting climb later I reached a thick blanket of clouds pierced through by the stem. Excited, I reached out to feel the clouds but to my surprise, they felt solid.

Carefully, I stepped onto the clouds and started walking towards a green patch I saw in the distance. Where those trees in the sky? I started to jog along, my eyes searching the unfamiliar terrain.

Green cover took over once I reached the area I had spotted. It looked just like the forests down on the ground, except one small detail. That being that these trees were at least ten times bigger. The trunks were wider that church's bell towers. Fallen leaves looked like boats and the grass tickled my elbows.

Pushing through the wilderness, I stepped into a clearing. A simple wooden house stood in the middle, not even the king's castle could compare to it in size. Dazed, I walked toward the enormous structure over soil grains the size of pebbles.

A loud gasp coming from my right made me jump. "You! You are from the ground!" The terrifying voice spoke slowly. Turning my neck carefully, I saw a ginormous young face framed by long wavy black hair observing me with care. "You are!" He shouted in glee.

Too shocked to move, I felt my forehead tingling as he moved closer, his wide brown eyes just a few feet from me. "Who are you?" I asked in a squeaky high pitch.

"I ... My name is Edward. How did you get here?" There was friendly curiosity laced in his words. His hand, which was as tall as me, inched towards me and his smile showcased a set of slightly crooked teeth.

"I climbed up the magical bean stalk." My voice slipped into a shriek when his hand laid flat in front of me.

"Magical bean stalk? She kept her promise!" He yelled in excitement. "Go on, get on my hand, I will take you to my house."

Hesitantly, I stepped onto his rough hand and sat down as he stood up. He covered me with his other hand as he ran towards the house. "What is your name?"

"Jack." I replied. He opened the door and put me on the table with some fruits and vegetables on one end. The interior was bare, with just a table and a chair.

"Jack, I need your help." He spoke as he sat on the chair. Leaning forward, he put in chin on the table.

"What kind of help do you need?" I asked him.

"I was cursed by the witches and wizards in my village and put here for a crime I didn’t commit. The only way for me to return to my normal state I need to make this potion." He slid a crumbled piece of paper from his pocket towards me. "But I can only get these things on land, my size prevents me from going down there. Could you help me make it?"

"These proportions are going to cost a fortune. I don't think I can help you." I said in a morbid tone as I examined the page which was the only normally sized object in the room.

"You can take these fruits; they will fetch you a pretty penny. With their size, I doubt you will face any competition." He thrust the huge fruits in my direction and looked at me with an anxious smile. "I will help you carry it down once dusk has set." He quickly added. "Please, I can't handle being stuck here alone any longer."

My heart melted as his eyes glistened. "Since we have till the evening ..." I sat down cross legged on the table, the paper stuffed into my pants. "How long have you been here?"

His eyes darted towards me and he smiled gratefully. "At least five months. During the first month, a kind older witch wrote down the recipe for the potion and gave it to me. Before she could help me make it, she was caught, and her powers were taken away from her. She promised me she would find a way of helping me before she escaped."

"I got the beans from an old woman, that must have been her." I placed my relatively tiny hand on his to comfort him.

Amusement lit up his face as he looked down on me. "I worked as a carpenter before ... this. I built this house and these..." He pointed to the table and chair. "... to pass time while I waited for her."

"You are quite talented, Ed. Do you mind if I call you Ed?" I asked him. He shook his head. We discussed our strategy repeatedly while we waited for the darkness to set in.

We left the house with me saddled in his front pocket, a burning torch in one of his hands, a basket with a few giant fruits in his other when night arrived. He descended the bean stalk silently as I held onto his shirt for dear life.

Once on the ground, he emptied the basket into the area behind my house and placed me down. To not disturb the neighborhood, he spoke nothing and just waved at me while climbing up the stalk, disappearing into the sky. I entered my house and slept till the morning sun was shining in my eyes.

Soon I was up and moving to put the plan into action. I walked up to Sally's house and called for her father. "Sir, I have a few things that I need to take to the market to sell. I can't carry them on foot, so may I borrow your cart? Of course, I will be paying you the rent for it at the end of the day." I told him when he came to the door.

"Sure, but take Sally with you. She is the one the horse trusts the most." I agreed to the condition and within ten minutes we were on our way to the market. Sally was bewildered at the size of the fruits.

"Where did you find these?" She asked. "Did it grow on the green tower like plant behind your house?"

"I found them in the forest yesterday when I was travelling along the road." I lied.

"Take me along the next time. Were there more?" She asked in a jolly tone. "I wonder what made them grow so big. I want to study these curiosities!" She exclaimed. "I am sure the scientist living near the market would love them."

"Maybe he will buy them from me!" I snapped my fingers. "Let's head to his house first!"

We reached his place and his curiosity made him buy all four of them at the price I asked of him. He didn’t even try to bargain; it was my lucky day.

With Sally's help I completed my errands at lighting speed and reached her house before the sun set. I paid her and ran to my house. Carefully lining up the ingredients near the tower of green, I waited for the darkness to cover me.

I sensed the stalk shaking a little and looked up to see him descending at a swift pace. When he saw the things lined up, a wide smile lit up his face in the dim light of the lamp I had brought with me. Placing a giant basket with even more huge fruits on the ground, we got to work. Making gestures to communicate, we made the potion and heated it up in four normal sized pots.

Once done, he chugged the contents of the pots one at a time. Over the next ten minutes, he shrunk to my height. I knew he was young but now I could make out that he was close to my age. He ran to me and hugged me once he stopped shrinking. "Thank you!" He shouted. "Thank you so much, Jack!" He placed a quick kiss on my cheek, his long hair brushed against my skin, and he held my hands.

"Your ears are turning red!" He commented when I stayed silent. I continued to look at the ground and tried to hide my red face. "Jack? Are you ..." Before he could finish, I looked with a silly grin that made him crack up.

"You are prettier than I thought you would be." I finally spoke, trying not to stare at him for too long.

"Pretty?" His eyes disappeared in his wide smile. "Why, thank you!" A dull red spread through his cheeks.

"You can stay with me; you can’t go back to your village, can you?" I asked him as we walked into the house, the lamp in my hand.

He shook his head and hid his eyes with his hand. "My family doesn’t believe me either so there is no point in telling them either." His lips quivered.

"Then stay with me forever!" I shouted while I pulled away his hand. ''Forever?" He stuttered as his eyes met mine.

"Forever." I confirmed, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

The next day we sold six of fruits in the market with Sally's help. Even the king's men bought two. We gave one to Sally for her help and headed back to the house. When mother arrived the next day, we gave her the money we got for the fruits which would help us live comfortably for the rest of our lives. Mother took a liking to Ed, so she let him stay with us. He taught me carpentry,we started a carpentry store together and so we lived happily ever after!

#writers #writing #writeblr #writeaway #writerslife #writer #short story #original story #original writing #original post #fairycore #fairytale rp #jack and the beanstalk #fairy tale retelling

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schleierkauz · 4 years

Text

The Color of Revenge: Chapter 4

Me: “This story is sooo interesting! Maybe we get to meet one of the witches next? Maybe a chapter from Roxane’s perspective? Maybe some insight into what exactly the Prince is up to? Maybe -” Cornelia Funke: “Anyway here’s Ironstone.”

(This is also your reminder to definitely listen to the official version once we get it because this chapter kinda kicked my ass. If any part of this just straight up makes no sense pls tell me. Enjoy!)

Chapter 4: An unpleasant Companion

Of course Ironstone had lied about his master. Orpheus was very much alive and healthy, aside from his chronically sensitive stomach and flights of migraine, which only served as an excuse to spend hours in bed. Meanwhile Rudolph washed his clothes, cooked, scrubbed the floors and worked himself to the bone with a thousand other tasks.

Orpheus had ordered him to visit Elinor. He had given very specific instructions regarding the order in which they were supposed to visit his old foes. Ironstone was almost done. Only Farid was still missing since he wasn’t in Ombra. He had hidden one of the wooden sticks that Orpheus had given him in the belongings of all the other people he’d visited – under the bed, inside of bags, shoes or clothes.

“What are those for?“ he’d asked as Orpheus had counted the small wooden sticks into the leather bag that had been strapped to Ironstone’s back like a backpack. “Do you want me to try my hand at arson? That’s hardly a good way to kill the Fire-Dancer.”

“It’s none of your concern what those sticks are for,“ Orpheus had answered with his usual air of importance. “Maybe they’ll catch you while you hide them and I don’t want you to be able to reveal my plan.”

Unsettling – but so far no one had caught him. And Ironstone was determined to keep it that way. Orpheus had impressed it upon him that the sticks had to stay with the person they were meant for for two nights. Under no circumstances were they to be discovered before then. So Ironstone had tried his best to find good hiding places. Orpheus could turn very nasty if his orders weren’t followed exactly as he wanted. He had almost drowned Ironstone in his ink once and a few times the glass man had had to visit the glazier for broken off limbs. Not to mention that fit of rage during which his master had chased him through his shabby chambers with a hammer. No glazier would have been able to fix that damage.

Ironstone couldn’t have explained why he stayed with Orpheus despite all of it. Maybe because it was nice to work for a master who was even more devious than he himself.

“Two nights, then you go to collect them again and give them to Baldassare so he can deliver them to their final recipient.”

Baldassare. The man on whose shoulder he’d travelled from Tyrola to Ombra was just as evil, devious and unprincipled as Orpheus himself. He would’ve sold him to the men who fed glass men to fighting dogs in order to sharpen their teeth had Orpheus not made it very clear that he needed Ironstone back unharmed.

Baldassare Renaldesci liked to brag that he’d been a master thief since his fifth birthday and since his eleventh also a very gifted murderer. He claimed to have sent over a hundred men and women to the afterlife – a place that was, according to him, similar to a giant pub, which meant he really just did his victims a favor. The wooden casket in which he kept buttons and belt buckles, cut from the clothes of his victims, was filled to the brim.

“It helps me to remember how many there were,“ he’d explained to Ironstone, obvious pride in his voice. “Most people have no idea how hard it is to kill a grown man and how fiercely some try to defend themselves.”

The casket also contained two gold teeth (Ironstone was grateful that Baldassare didn’t mention where they’d come from) – and a glass eye that was supposed to protect him from the evil eye.

Baldassare’s eyes were brown like those of a cow and most of the time they seemed so dull and disinterested that one might have mistaken them for glass as well.

But appearances could be deceiving.

Baldassare’s cow eyes didn’t miss anything, which made his claim that he’d once been a spy for the duke of Milan at least a little bit more believable.

Anyway – he didn’t bathe often enough, he liked lousy lodgings where the rats were bigger than Ironstone and he loved cheap prostitutes who thought glass men were adorable little pets. Plus, he enjoyed fighting, was constantly high on cheap wine, elf dust and cinderella lentils and wrote bad verses to worse melodies which he considered to be an expression of his untamable genius. To make it short: Ironstone was counting the days until they finished Orpheus’ tasks and he could get off of Baldassare’s filthy shoulder.

At least the weather was a lot more pleasant in Ombra than it was in Bruneck – and there were glass women. And a lot of troubadours and rich merchants who needed glass men. There had been moments when Ironstone had seriously considered not going back to Orpheus. But he had gotten used to him and his black heart. And it wouldn’t be easy to find another master who was so thoroughly supportive of his desires to do evil.

The abandoned house that Baldassare had claimed as their home still had the sign of the Black Death painted on the brittle door, even though it had been 20 years since the plague ravaged Ombra. The empty rooms behind it smelled like mold and rat dung and the glassless windows let in every biting smell that came from the dye baths of the tanners nearby. Flayed skin… Quite appropriate. Orpheus probably had something similar in mind for those who had foiled his plans, even though he kept the specifics a secret.

Baldassare was snoring on a bearskin he’d stolen from the tanners, his fingers white with elf dust. He was a tall, strong man who wore the blurred remains of past beauty on his puffy face. His black hair was a little too black (he dyed it with the foul-smelling liquid the tanners used for their skins) and you could always deduct his last meal by looking at his clothes.

Ah, the world was so unfair! Baldassare would receive a bag of gold for his services while Orpheus’ own loyal (well… somewhat loyal) glass man had to content himself with dry bread, hard cheese and sour wine.

Ironstone tiptoed closer to Baldassare’s sleeping form and pushed his tiny hand into the bag tied to his belt. Ah yes… A few coins were still in there. Surely he wouldn‘t miss just one. Judging by how he wrote down his verses, his skills for counting probably weren’t much better than his spelling. But Ironstone had only just closed his hand around the coin when dirty fingers grabbed him.

“And what do you think you’re doing there, Shard Head?” Baldassare slurred and held Ironstone up in front of his bloodshot eyes. His voice sounded like oil. Warm, rancid oil.

“Should I sell you to one of the travelling merchants who export glass men to Persia and Mauritania, where they have you fight snakes and scorpions? I hear there’s a great demand. Because there’s usual nothing left of your kind but a few splinters.”

Oh yes. Baldassare Renaldesci had a black heart. Maybe it was even darker than that of Orpheus. Ironstone knew that there were a few things Orpheus valued in this world. But he had yet to find anything that inspired such feelings in Baldassare. Except maybe himself, louses and all. And his bad verses.

“I haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday!“ Ironstone shrieked. “I have a right to at least one meal a day! And the sun is already setting!”

“It is?“ Baldassare scratched his paunch and struggled to get on his feet. ”Damn. The Black Prince is holding an audience for all troubadours who want to join him. I want to recite one of my verses.”

“Your verses? You have something else to deliver him, did you forget that?“

They had split Orpheus‘ list up between the two of them. The dead-and-buried-list, as Ironstone liked to call it. Of course Baldassare had made sure that he only had to deal with six of the 14 names on it. His argument had been that Dustfinger, the Black Prince and the young firebug were far more dangerous tasks than the bookworm woman or the old Inkweaver.

Ridiculous.

After all, the split made the Bluejay and his daughter Ironstone’s responsibility. But Baldassare had just given him a slimy smile and pushed eight of the wooden sticks towards Ironstone.

“Come on, Ire – you attract way less attention than I do“ he’d purred.

Ire, Shard Heard, Pipsqueak, Fog Face (a reference to Ironstone’s foggy gray limbs) – Baldassare had many names for Ironstone and he didn’t like any of them. But he consoled himself with the fact that the nicknames he used for Baldassare were even less flattering.

“Forget? I forget nothing and no one, Shard Head.“ Baldassare pulled the round silver mirror out of his pocket that he treated it with more care than any of his other belongings. “Baldassare,” he murmured as he spat into his hand and smoothed back his dyed hair. “You’re still one handsome devil.”

The silver offered a blurry improvement on reality and the elf dust probably did the rest – there was no other explanation for this judgement. Ironstone was continuously surprised how much vanity hid behind Baldassare’s sleazy appearance. He even owned an ivory comb and a brush for his teeth.

“Oh no, no,“ he said just as Ironstone was about to get comfortable on the bearskin. “You’re coming with me. It looks good when a troubadour has his own glass man.”

Wonderful. Ironstone had been up and about for almost four days and nights to finish his portion of the list.

“The Black Prince doesn’t like me at all!“ he protested when Baldassare grabbed him. “He won’t even want to listen to your verses once he sees me! And then what? Do you want to sacrifice your future fame for Orpheus’ old rivalries?”

Baldassare was usually a very suspicous man but when it came to his stilted verses he believed even excuses as absurd as this one.

“That would be too bad, yes. Ah, va bene, you’re staying here – but get me some new strings for my lute.”

Of course. It wasn’t enough that he tortured the ears of everyone around him with bad verses, he had to follow it up with even worse lute melodies.

“Get them? How?“ Ironstone held his hand out to Baldassare, hoping he would get the hint, but the man just sneered at him.

“How? Steal them!“

Ironstone glanced up to the worryingly fat spider that was lurking in its net under the moist ceiling. He decided to dedicate the rest of the evening not to Baldassare’s or Orpheus’ desires but his own. The street in which Ombras instrument makers worked was south of the tannery streets but Ironstone turned north, towards the seamstresses who made clothes for the wealthier citizens of Ombra… assisted by countless glass women.

(Next chapter)

#cornelia funke #the color of revenge #inkheart #inkworld #look guys it's a new character! sure hope i got his name right jfhgdkhgf #rainer strecker speaks very clearly but some of these italian names.... man #i'm gonna read myself into the inkworld and start a union for rudolph #i only ever post these in the middle of the night maybe i should work on that?#then again #it's only the middle of the night for me #good night everyone #and yes it is ELF dust #not fairy dust #also i want to know what cinderella lentils are #cornelia pls write more about these magical drugs #ly dont look

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

DUMPLING ch 39

(Chapter warning: Discussions of death and gore)

See bottom of the chapter for bonus art and a new addition to the Dumpling Playlist.

Farris lead them out of the tent and into the kitchen camp and they were greeted by the absurd sight of all of the kitchen staff surrounding a group of seven or so humans, most of whom looked absolutely terrified, and then one lone human who stood outside the group was waving a sword in the air as he angrily shouted at Bart. “...WILL NOT LET ME THROUGH THIS INSTANT, I WILL RUN YOU THROUGH!”

“Through what? My big toe?” Bart asked with a laugh. He could not look less intimidated by the man if it had been a dust bunny shouting at him.

Farris let Nonna down and she snorted at the sight of them, calling out, “Riley, stop swinging that thing around, it’s not a damn toy! We’ve already made a piss poor showing and I won’t have you insulting these good people any more that you already have. Put that poker away and shut your gob or I’ll be telling your mother she needs to teach you better manners.”

The so name Riley turned to look at Nonna, eyes wide and disbelieving. “Nonna! You aren’t hurt are you?”

“I’m fine you great cow pie!” she snapped back at him and earning a few snickers from some of the kitchen staff. “Now do as I said and put that damn thing away.”

Riley tightened his grip, looking back and forth between the giants around him and then back to Nonna before looking up at Farris. “Tell your men to back away first.”

Farris regarded the little squire with a flat look, displeased at being given orders and especially by someone so annoying, but conceded by glancing at Bart and jerking his head. Bart nodded and began to usher everyone back to their tasks. “C’mon now, let ‘em be, lads. Back to work, the lot of ye. We’ve had our fun.”

Avery made a long disappointed whine. “Aw, come on now. I was this close t’gettin’ that lil’ fella in blue to piss himself.”

Riley watched the giants leave with suspicious and wary eyes, but once they were a comfortable enough distance away from the group of humans, he sheathed his sword. He turned his attention back to Nonna, but paused, eyes shifting to stare behind Farris where Yale stood with Nenani cupped in his hands. The man’s eyes widened and he shifted nervously for a moment before abruptly bending himself in half. “Y-your Grace!”

The other humans looked at Riley in surprise, following his trail of sight and when they all saw Nenani, they mimicked him and dropped into dramatic bows with mutterings of “Your Grace.”

Yale snickered, lowering his head to whisper to Nenani. “Princess Dumplin’...”

“Nooo...” She whined. Her face turned red with mortification when she heard Avery and Kol both add their own flamboyant your grace’s from across the yard. Farris glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow and she frowned back at him miserably. “Please make them stop...”

But he just grinned at her and shrugged.

“Well, you heard her,” Nonna told the group. “Stop with all that silly nonsense. You’re embarrassing the poor girl.”

Riley’s face made several jumps between conflicting emotions before finally giving a small bow and muttering an almost inaudible, “My apologies.”

Nonna nodded in satisfaction before turning to look up at Farris with a pleasant smile and patted his boot. “Thank you for help, Farris, you’re a peach. But I believe I can manage them from here.”

“As ye say,” he replied and stepped back, crossing his arms. Nonna looked up and waved a beckoning hand at Yale.

“Go on and let the girl loose, young man. We’ve come all this way so we might as well give her all these presents we’ve trudged up along with us.”

Nenani perked up. “Presents? For me?”

Nonna regarded her with a sly grin. “Well what did you think it mean to pay homage?”

Yale laughed as he let Nenani down and she hurried to catch up to Nonna as she reached the group of humans. Many of them were pulling the packs off their backs and rummaging inside, pulling out objects, some wrapped and some not. And though they all were still sending wary glances towards the giants who were still watching them all from their work stations, the humans seemed excited to be presenting their offerings. Nenani did not know how to feel about it all. It felt strange to suddenly be in the company of many folks her size, having become so accustomed to living among giants and even more so when they were throwing gifts at her.

But so long as they kept their your grace’s to themselves, she supposed it was all in good fun.

Riley stepped up to Nonna, bending to whisper something into her ear to which Nonna nodded. Riley was a tall young man, dressed in a long dark gray gambeson coat, and green trousers. He look only a few years older than Jae. The leather of his belt was oiled and shining with a silver buckle of intricate silver. He wore a short stubble beard and his hair was a fluffy mob of dusty brown and his face was set firmly into a scowl. His hand still rested on the hilt of his sword as he cast his gaze around the camp. They lingered on Farris and Yale and neither giant missed the way he was looking at them. Yale wiggled his eyebrows at him, daring the human to try something, but all Riley did was scowl back at him.

“Now, my girl,” Nonna said, gently taking Nenani’s arm and guiding her towards the group. “Most of these gifts are going to be things you don’t really need and never asked for...”

“Nonna!” Riley barked at the woman in indignation; momentarily turning his head from the giants.

“...but I can assure you that they were all made with love and care and the finest craftsmanship we possess.” Nonna finished, ignoring Riley. One by one, each of the group stepped up and held out their offerings with a short greeting. Thankfully they kept it informal. Among the gifts was a light green cloak with delicate embroidery along the bottom, a brass broach in the shape of a dragonfly, a roll of beautifully tanned leather, a ring with a polished purple stone, and a small wooden box inlaid with different colored wood to create a beautiful pattern on the lid like a string twirling in never ending loops and knots. They were all beautifully made gifts and Nenani stared dumbly at the pile, taken aback and oddly humbled.

“And Riley has one for you as well,” Nonna said, looking to Riley with a nod. The young man reached behind himself and unclipped something from his belt, pulling it out and handing to Nonna. It was a sheathed dagger. The leather had been dyed a faint green color and near the top, pressed into material was a familiar symbol; the Thorn guard crest. Nenani stared at it, feeling a strange nostalgic pull.

“But first,” said the old woman, her voice soft and oddly serious. Her eyes were searching and hopeful. “I have an important question for you; Where is Hayron?”

Nenani stared at Nonna for a moment, a sinking feeling in her belly, and then after a moment said, “He died. Or rather...he was killed.”

There was a collective noise of despair and the group of humans all looked heartbroken at the news. They all bent their heads and muttered something Nenani could not make out. It did not sound like the common tongue at all.

Nonna nodded her understanding. “I had feared as much,” she said, eyes incredibly sad. “When news reached us that you and your mother were alive, but no news of Hayron...”

She heaved a great sigh, suddenly looking her age. “It is a great loss. I would have very much liked to have been able to see your father one more time. So many things I would have told him. So many apologies I would have made. Your grandfather was never the same after he was forced to give his son up. It tore at him, terribly.” She looked up at Nenani and smiled sadly, regret and longing on he face. “How he wished he could have had a chance to meet his grandchild. This broach here, the dragonfly...”

She reached for the broach from atop the pile of offerings and pinned it to the front of Nenani’s thick wool dress. “...is the symbol of familial love. He had this made for me after my daughter was born and I’ve kept it all these years. The notion to one day give it to one of my granddaughters crossed my mind, but they fight over every little thing. So, when I heard you were alive...it seems only fitting you should have it.”

She rested a bony hand over the broach, over Nenani’s heart. Riley stepped up to her.

“Who killed him?” he asked. The young man’s eyes were intense everything about him was pulled taut with withheld rage. The hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightened and his knuckles were white. “Who killed Hayron?”

“His name is Aidus,” she said to the man.

“Aidus...I know that name,” Nonna said, looking pensive.

Something in the back of her mind gave her pause and she looked back to Farris. Almost as though she sought his permission to say anything more. He seemed to sense her apprehension.

“It’s up t’ye how much ye wanna share, lil’un,” he told her. “But I’ll say this: better fer everyone t’be knowin’ about that fucker. He ain’t gone after the tribes yet, but best not assume that won’t change.”

She did not want to tell them about Aidus being the one to have killed Thadeus and starting the war. It did not feel like something she could tell them. Who knew what sort of the trouble that knowledge would stir. But the rest...the rest she could. After seeing the pain on their collective faces at the news of her father’s death, she almost felt like she owed them the story and the chance to share her loss with someone who shared it was alluring.

“He was after Mama,” she explained. “But Papa tried to fight him off. Aidus killed him and stole my mother away. But she escaped him a year ago. She said he threatened to kill my little brother.”

There was a shift among the group.

“Brother?” Nonna asked.

“Mama was with child when she was taken,” she replied.

There were hushed murmurs among the humans and someone from the back asked, “We have a prince?”

Nonna waved them off with a hand, frowning at them. “Quiet you hens!” She turned back to Nenani with an expression of longing. “We had not heard of your mother bearing a son.”

“She named him Haiyer.” The old woman was silent for a long moment, her eyes frozen as they peered at Nenani. Then she rose a trembling hand to her face, covering her mouth as the emotion took her. “...Haiyer?”

“Nonna?” Riley asked, his nervousness forgotten as he went to her side, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, wiping at her eyes. “Yes, of course. I am all right, my boy. Don’t fret.”

Riley looked back at Nenani. “Why would this man do all of this? Kill Hayron and take the princess?”

“Aidus is the man who Mama was supposed to marry,” Nenani replied. “But she fell in love with Papa instead.”

Nonna gripped Riley’s shoulder as sudden recognition struck her and she gasped. “Tarliene’s eldest boy!” she cried, eyes wide. “The King’s advisor! His son was named Aidus! I thought I knew that name!” She turned to the man in blue, the one Avery had been trying to scare into wetting himself. “Pip, do you remember if Aidus was one of the Ruby order? They were the mages sent to Riftside, correct?”

“If I remember correctly, they were sent in as back up,” he replied. “I’m fairly confident that if the Aidus that her grace...er, my apologies. If the Aidus she speaks of is Tarliene’s son, then he would have been there.”

“Aidus was a fire mage. Vennor’s apprentice,” confirmed another of the humans. He was older and gray haired. A thin pale scar rang the length of face on his right side. He looked to Nonna. “He was a member of the Ruby Order. A highly skilled fire mage.”

Above them all, Farris snorted. “I’ve met ‘im briefly. And he don’t look a thing like any fire mage I’ve ever seen.”

“My apologies, sir, but you mistake my meaning,” the man explained. “It couldn’t have been him. I saw Aidus fall at Riftside. He and two others were thrown from the cliff by Prince Mourin.”

“Ye were at Riftside?” Farris asked, the gruffness easing a little and he regarded the scarred man with a kinder eye.

“Yes, sir. Infantry captain,” said the man and gestured to his face. “S’where I got this beauty. Courtesy of one a’ yer late King’s balista’s shattering our shield wall. The prince and a few others got through after the river was set on fire and they scaled the cliff. They killed all them mages there. Not sure who, but someone ‘em got in a quick hit before they fell and it cut through the Prince’s neck and he bled out. Every soul on that cliff died that day.”

“Ye say ya saw ‘im fall,” Farris said. “He could’a survived.”

“Unlikely. That cliff is nearly 150 feet and the river may be deep there, but there’s plenty of rocks to hit on the way down.”

“Well if he’s did die at Riftside, someone forgot to tell him he’s suppose to be dead,” Yale added. “He’s attacked the castle directly twice now. Tryin’ t’get to the lil’un. Somethin’ about usin’ her to get her Mum to come back to ‘im.”

Nonna chewed on her bottom lip, mulling over all that had been said. She shook her head. “What could he possibly be after? Silvaara is no more, why fixate on Princess Aine?”

“Obsession?” Yale offered. “Revenge?”

“No,” Nenani said, something in her mind abruptly making sense. Keral had told her once that the smoke mage problem was like a puzzle to him and suddenly she was aware of just how many pieces she had. “Not revenge. Something about the gold prophecy. He...I think he thinks...it’s about him. When killed my uncle, he said that he wanted to see the dead walls rise. And then when the wyvern attacked, the only thing he said was the gold prophecy.”

“What do you mean when he killed your uncle?” Nonna asked. “Halden died in Silvaara. Alongside Haiyer and the royal family.”

“...no he didn’t. Uncle Halden didn’t die in Silvaara,” Nenani said, shaking her head. “He survived. He and some others made it to the Southlands. Where Mama and Papa and I were living. After Aidus took Mama and killed Papa, he took care of me for years. But Aidus came back. He burned everything down. And killed him.”

There was a long silence.

“Nonna,” Riley said in a quiet voice. His eyes were red. “We must hold the last rite for them. Hayron and Halden. We owe them that much at least.”

“It will take a few days to prepare for the ceremony,” Nonna told him. She turned to one of people within their group. “Jerand, how long would it take you and your brother to carve a pair of effigies?”

“Two days at least,” said an older man with a round face and bushy brown beard. “Three would be better.”

Nonna nodded. “I will speak with Warrick when we return. Could be a week or so before we could manage something half way decent. We won’t find much in the way of flowers this time of year.”

“What do you mean?” Nenani asked.

“The last rite,” Nonna explained. “For when an oath bound Thorn guard falls in the keeping of his or her oath, they are given what we call the last rite. Or full colors. We would like to give you father and uncle their last rite.”

“Didn’t grandfather have to...I forget what it’s called. Make him not a Thorn guard anymore?”

“He was relieved of his duty,” Nonna replied. “Only death can dismiss you from your oath.”

“There will be lots to be done,” said one of the group. “And so soon after Gregis.”

“More funerals,” Farris muttered unhappily.

“And what of it, giant?” Riley snarled, whirling on the kitchen master. “Do you see us criticizing how you mourn your lost?”

Farris glared at the whole group distastefully. “Y’know how many funeral’s I’ve been to since the war ended, boy? Too many. Both Vhasshalan and human. More than half didn’t even have a body to bury or t’burn. Folks speakin’ of a dead fella they didn’t know, paradin’ and weepin’ with all the pageantry and bullshit they can muster. It was never fer the sake of those closest to ‘em. Most ‘a the time it was only fer show.” He pointed glared at Riley. “Just t’see who could make a bigger arse of themselves.”

Riley’s face turned a deep shade of red and he glared up at Farris, furious and incensed. “KEEP YOU TONGUE IN YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!”

“Riley,” Nonna began, raising a placating hand towards him, but he shouted over her.

“NO! They were Thorn guard, Nonna. My brothers! And I will not stand here and be told my grief is nothing but for show! Least of all by a giant!” He turned back to Farris. “You speak of things you know nothing about.”

“Do as ye well please, but it’ll just be people weepin’ over a bonfire. Ain’t no bodies fer ye to burn,” Farris said and gestured to Nenani. “The lil’un’s been my ward fer months and she’s been mournin’ fer the both of ‘em fer longer than that. I’ve seen her tears and heard her cry out fer ‘em in her sleep. So excuse me if I don’t think ye have any right to sweep in and take ownership of a grief that’s rightly hers. Ye haven’t a right to it. Or her father. ‘Specially since ye all were the ones t’ave tossed Hayron out in the first place.”

Riley drew his sword, the metal catching the firelighte. “HOW DARE YOU –!”

Yale stepped up behind Farris, eyes narrowed and voice low and threatening. “Put it away, boy.”

There was the rushing of many feet and the rest of the kitchen staff stepped up behind Farris and Yale. There all glares and scowls and tightened muscle. But either the squire did not see them or did not care, too entrapped by his own anger. Nenani went to stand between them, suddenly afraid of the sudden escalation, but Nonna gripped her arm and pulled her back, pushing her towards one of the group of humans. “No, dear. Stay out of it.”

“But...” she began to protest, but Nonna shushed her.

“Stay out of it.”

“Aye,” Farris said to Riley, scowling. “Where were the lot of ye when yer King had him and his pregnant wife thrown out into the wilds like unwanted dogs? Ye sat at his heels and followed yer orders like good hounds even as one ‘a yer own was thrown aside. So don’t get all high and mighty on me with yer talk of oaths and shit.”

Riley opened his mouth to reply, but Nonna spoke over him, gripping his sleeve and rubbing his shoulder. “No, son. He is not wrong to say so. He is not wrong. And we know it. Haiyer certainly did and you know it too.”

“Nonna that isn’t what...”

“Not everyone shares the same view as to just what it means to uphold one’s duty. It is a hard line to walk. And one you must be prepared for if you ever want to take the oath yourself.”

“How can you bare such an insult?” Riley demanded, voice thick with emotion. “How he speaks of us? As though we do not grieve them at all. That it did not hurt to see Hayron leave and know we would never see him again. To see Father weep and pray to the Gods that they would be safe and beg for forgiveness. To watch war break out and destroy everything and never knowing if they were dead or alive. Now we have a chance to help Father’s spirit to finally rest. And this...fucker tells us that we are not entitled to our grief?”

“Haiyer is dead, son,” Nonna told him and not unkindly. “Confirmation of Hayron’s death does not change anything.”

“It does to me!” he said. “I may not share their name or wear his sigil, but they are my blood too! Don’t tell me how I should mourn them. I would have been there if I had been given the chance!”

“Then you would have died with him!” Nonna said, anger rising in her throat. “You were a child, Riley! You would not have made a bit of difference to that fight. The moment the keep fell, you would have just been another dead child laying on that marble floor in pieces!”

The young man’s face contorted with pain and he took a lumbering breath and howled, “BUT I WOULD DIED WITH MY FATHER!”

Nonna was livid. “And I would have one less piece of my brother and another dead nephew to grieve over.”

“I can’t just –!”

“Riley, that is enough!”

Riley sneered at Nonna and then turned his angry focus to the group of giants. “Do you know how he died?” he demanded of them. “Captain Haiyer? My father? He was the last one, y’know. The last of the guard left alive when your King tore through the keep. Just before he killed our King and his family. His sons and daughter. Their children. Babes still in their swaddling clothes. Popped their little bodies like goddamn grapes!”

Nenani felt ill as she listened to Riley speak. One of the men standing beside her put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes downcast and sad.

“Riley,” Nonna said. “Stop this now...”

But he did not listen to her. He was delirious with anger and he gave a manic laugh. “You might’ve noticed your King came back missing his left pinkie finger. That was my father’s doing. Lobbed the damn thing from his wretched hand...just before the Blood King bit hit head off!”

Nonna stepped in front of Riley and backhanded him across the face, the sound of it echoing across the camp. There was a moment where no one said anything and even Farris looked caught off guard. Riley stared at the ground, his head still tilted to the side from the force of the hit.

“Enough!” Nonna said and turned to the group of humans. “Pip, Jerand; take him home and put him to bed like the insolent child he is determined to be. Rendlen, you go too. You’re paler than milk and I don’t need you fainting on me.”

Three of the men from the group stepped up, one of them putting a hand onto Riley’s shoulder and guiding him towards the back gate. Riley did not protest or say anything, just kept one hand to his face where Nonna had struck him. Watching them go, Nonna sighed a great heaving breath as though it came from deep within. When she turned to Farris, her eyes were filled emotion.

“I am deeply sorry for his behavior, Farris,” she said, forcing herself to stand a little taller, though it was obvious she was still agitated. “It was not my intention for us to disturb you all. I hope you can forgive our transgressions here today.”

“That boy’s gonna end up pissin’ off the wrong folks one ‘a these days,” Farris warned her.

“He has many demons,” she relied, seeming smaller. “And I am sad to say...he is not currently winning that particular battle.”

“Tell ye what, Nonna,” Farris said. His face was placid and without a scent of irritation or anger. But there was something else there. Pity. “When ye see Warrick, give him this bit of advice from an ol’ man whose wrangled his fair share of belligerent lads who just wanna be angry at the world and fer everyone to feel as miserable as they do; work the boy till he can’t stand up straight no more. Don’t give ‘im a moment’s peace to dwell on all that shit in his head. Put all that angry energy into something productive. He’ll figure the rest out himself. Might take a few months. Might take a few years. But ye have to break him to have any hope of savin’ him from himself.” Farris turned his eye towards Yale and grinned. He reached out and looped his arm around his assistant's neck and pulled him into a choke hold. “S’how I set this smarmy bastard straight.”

“Ah, Farris!” Yale growled, pushing at the kitchen master’s arms. “Come off it!”

With a chuckle, Farris released his hold and Yale stumbled back with a muted curse.

Nonna watched the pair and laughed weakly at that, nodding. “Thank you. I will.”

“He said that the Captain was his father,” Quinn asked and looked to Nenani. “So does that make that whiny lil’ wanker the Dumplin’s uncle?”

“Half uncle,” Nonna said with a nod and then paused, looking at Quinn askance. “Dumpling?”

“Aye,” Farris said, the whole lot of them sharing a grin. “S’what we call yer niece there.”

Nonna laughed and patted Nenani on the back. “Well, I suppose there are worse things to be called.”

“What do you mean, though?” Nenani asked her. “When you say that he’s my half uncle?”

She sighed. “Well, no sense in beating around the bush as every in the village knows. Riley is your grandfather’s natural born son,” the old woman replied. “A bastard.”

The word echoed in Nenani’s mind, bringing with it the voice of Lord Eldherst. Bastard. Only a bastard.

“Hayron never told you? Nor Halden?” she asked, seeing the look on Nenani’s face. “That they had a half brother?”

“Papa never told me anything,” she replied, brow furrowed and feeling hollow inside. “I didn’t even know my last name until a few weeks ago...”

The old woman’s head drew back and she stared at Nenani, scandalized. “Truly?”

Nenani nodded. “I...never knew about anyone. Or anything...”

“He may have been waiting for your tenth birthday,” Nonna said. “When you would receive your first rite.”

“My first...rite?”

“That’s right,” she said with a grin, holing up the green sheathed dagger. “When you would have been given your dagger.”

“Given her dagger?” Bart asked with a bemused grin. “What’s the bloody hell does that mean?”

“You may have noticed us lot in the Hill Tribes are a bit...well, let’s be generous and say superstitious,” Nonna explained. “We of the Thorn clans hold traditions very close as it is really all we have left of our culture. We are all Silvaaran, but we are also Thorn. Our place in the hierarchy of Silvaara kept us apart from either end of society. Neither peasant nor nobility. So the old ways were kept well and alive through the years. Our music, our stories, our language...”

“...language?” Nenani asked.

“Tier,” Nonna replied with a grin. “Gothe‘er than ule ore sei schlie.”

Not a word she spoke was familiar and she had never heard anyone speak in that way. Nenani stared. “What does that mean?”

“I said that many of us still speak the old tongue. As for the dagger, it is the first of the rites.” She looked to Nenani and smiled, holding out the green leather sheathed dagger to her. “When one of our clan turns ten years old, a dagger is made from a piece of their father’s yearling sword and given to the child as their first rite. Your father would have presented this to you on your tenth birthday,” She smiled at Nenani, but it was sad. “...but as we do not have his yearling sword nor him...I am afraid all I have is a substitute and my old bony self. Riley was going to present this to you, but...well.”

Nonna held out the dagger to Nenani and as she reached out to wrap her hands around the dagger’s hilt, Nonna closed her fingers over her hand. Holding them, she looked into Nenani’s face.

“When you turn fifteen,” she continued. “This dagger will be melted down again and turned into a yearling sword as your second rite. And finally when you are deemed to be ready, your are given your final sword and take the oath. The oath use to be to protect and guard the royal family.” Nonna tilted her head in a strange sort of shrug. “But since the war, we have broadened that oath to the Hill Tribe and to Vhasshal should the King ever call upon us.”

Behind them, she heard Farris huff a laugh. “Yer saying yer wantin’ t’show the lil’un how to fuckin’ use a sword now?”

Nonna turned her eyes to Farris and laughed loudly. “Goodness no! We’d never set her upon such a path nor is it expected of any of our children to do so. Only four of the young ones have taken the oath in recent years and seven more have their yearling swords, but most never progress beyond their dagger. These rites are more to persevere our heritage than anything. Do not worry Farris, we don’t mean to turn your ward into a soldier.”

Farris chuckled. “Was only gonna warn ye she’d make a right sorry solider. Sleeps late, doesn’t mind ye worth shit, and she’s easily distracted by small shiny things.”

“I do not!” Nenani shot back with a frown. Nonna pulled the dagger from the sheath and it glinted in Nenani’s eyes, drawing her gaze downward. Behind her, each and every one of the kitchen staff was laughing. Nenani whirled around, red faced and opened her mouth to defend herself.

Farris eyed her with a smirk. “Oh, aye. Ye do, lass.”

She stuck her tongue out at the lot of them and the just laughed harder. Nonna smiled and patted her cheek affectionately.

“Don’t feel too bad, my dear,” she said and leaned forward to whisper into her ear, “I’m quite partial shiny things too.”

BONUS ART: Riley.

Author’s notes: The Thorn clan language is similar in sound to the Irish or Gaelic languages.

NEW DUMPLING PLAYLIST TRACK: Thorn Guard Song.

#Dumpling #G/t story #giant tiny #g/t fantasy story #fantasy giant #Giant/tiny #Nenani #Nonna #Riley #Farris #Yale #Bart #Quinn #Aidus #Captain Haiyer #sad #lots of yelling #battle of riftside

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tysonrunningfox · 4 years

Text

Toothless: Return to the Black Pony of Second Chances: Part 5

This is long and he is a brat, ok?

Ao3

“Ok,” I heave the last shovel of horse poop from the black horse’s area and lean on my pitchfork, barely resisting the urge to plug my nose with my hand, as my hand has recently been in contact with said horse poop.

The black horse isn’t nice, exactly, but not quite skittish either, and largely my only two problems with it—him—are the leash he allows Astrid to have around my time and maybe also neck if she asked for it and the amount he poops. Like, maybe he should cut back on the fiber. A little more cheese, possibly.

“Ok what?” Astrid closes the stall door at the other end of the barn with her foot, chucking a pitchfork of horse shit into a wheelbarrow.

It’s been less than 24 hours in Wyoming, and I recognize horse shit.

This is great. This is all going so great.

“Ok, his room is clean.”

“Room?” She raises an eyebrow, the same unimpressed expression I got last night when I had no idea what a ‘flake’ of hay was. The only flakes I’ve ever seen are corn flakes, and as they’re usually non-GMO and therefore pad Monsanto’s bottomless pockets with bovine diabetes, I haven’t seen them in years.

“Stable.” I shrug, “stall, whatever fancy horse word it is. I don’t know why it matters.”

“There are four more stalls on your side,” she gestures with her shoulder, picking up the full wheelbarrow handles and moving before I can protest.

So, I jog up next to her to protest, work-loosened shoes slipping over my heels.

“My side?” I shiver when we’re outside, the early morning sun doing about as little to cut the chill as my hoodie is, “last time I checked, my horse is on the end—”

“I told you that you would help me muck stalls,” she grunts as she heaves the wheelbarrow into a lovely pile of horse shit in a brown and putrid monotone rainbow of stages.

“I did,” I point at my dirty pants with my dirty hand.

“I did five, you did one.” She reminds me, like I could have forgotten in the last minute, and I wonder if flinching in the wind is making me look like I’m having a stroke.

“Yeah.”

“So, you think I should go do nine of them?” She cocks her hip, and I don’t understand how she has the energy to be this hostile this early. When she knocked on my bedroom door this morning, I thought she must have been a very polite burglar warning me that they were taking one of my dad’s absolutely lovely recliners off of my hands so that I could thank them.

But no, when I opened my bedroom door it was just Astrid, arms crossed and looking down at my pajamas like I’d already disappointed her, asking why I wasn’t dressed yet.

And then she made me instant coffee, like she was doing me a favor, when I probably would have preferred horse shit tea.

The wind shifts and I catch a whiff of the pile.

Nope. That’s an exaggeration, but from the way the shitty, acrid coffee churns in my empty stomach, it’s not much of one.

“I didn’t say that,” I hold my hand out for one of the pills that I know is in her pocket, “I just need my horse’s medicine.”

“Yeah, and I said I’d give it to you after you helped muck out the stable.”

“Stable or stall, which is it?” I roll my eyes, “the lack of consistency really isn’t making me feel much trust in your management style.”

That gets her, a little flicker in those bright blue eyes, a tense in her jaw that makes me think twice about angering her into headbutting me, because I don’t think it’d be fun.

“You can have the medicine when you muck out the other four stalls, of the five in your half, which constitutes half the stable.” She talks about horse rooms like they’re engine compartments and I feel like a coolant leak, shoving steam out and making her pull over on the way to something important.

Not that there’s anything important out here. There hasn’t been anything important since someone brought a store-bought pie to church, or something. And that was probably a year ago.

“But I already did my horse’s stall.”

My horse already feels steadier than ‘my room’ or ‘my house’ or ‘my dad’, and I don’t know why. Maybe because the horse is the only one here to not actively reject me, like the twin bed that’s now too short or the crooked floorboard I tripped over.

“Yeah, and there are four more.”

“Why do I care about the other four?” As soon as I say it, I wish I hadn’t gotten so used to the progressive, ‘spare the rod to spoil the child and save the world’ schools that my mom has sent me to, because this is like being spanked with the feelings stick by a hormonally confusing drill sergeant in the lobby to military school.

“Because your horse,” she implies ‘and by extension you’ by jabbing me in the arm with a pointed finger, “costs money and time and space, and since no one else can get close to him, for some reason.” The jealousy is like a fresh americano from the fair trade café down the street from my old apartment, “so you have to pull the weight.”

“Can a horse really weigh four surplus stalls of horse shit?”

“Come tell me when you’re done, and I’ll teach you how to clean out the chicken coop.”

“You said I could have the medicine after the stalls were mucked,” I must say it right even though I was planning to make another joke, because she just crosses her arms and shrugs that tense shrug at me.

“He’ll need them again tonight, won’t he?”

She’s right, but not as a way to get me to listen to her, just as a fact, and I realize once and for all that she’s not someone to out-talk or out-logic. She won’t give me an inch because I make her laugh, and it’s so my luck that the only concrete proof I’ve had in a decade that my dad really, actually knows me, is that he somehow chose the right person to torture me into some brand of obedience so manually productive that it’s probably anti-union.

I get back to mucking.

The fact that I am not strong is really Mrs. Razorwhip’s fault for making gym so easy to skip. In fact, the only time I ever actually had to suffer through the weight room was sneaking through it to the emergency exit with the disabled alarm that let me out into the alley.

Back home, I would insist that I’m not useless. Not impressive, obviously, there’s not much to look at, but I’ve never struggled lugging groceries up the stairs.

Then again, four stalls of horse shit weighs more than enough tofu and kale to feed my mom and I for a month.

“Are you done yet?” Astrid comes back after some indeterminate, sweaty time and catches me taking a probably forbidden break, petting the black horse’s nose.

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” I salute.

She doesn’t appreciate it, and she doesn’t even try to hide the fact, and while I’m used to Heather jokingly calling me an asshole, the direct disappointment is different. A little bitter. Like the static emanating out of a missing rewind button in a dusty remote I lost years ago.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” She looks at the black horse then at me, taking a reluctant, peace-seeking step towards me, and I get the somewhat familiar feeling that she doesn’t want to be so mean to me, but I just make it easy.

She hands me his medicine and I guess her hand gets a little too close, because he makes an ear-splitting noise and attempts to bite her through the bars, nostrils flared and red-lined as Hiccup jumps back, fumbling with the oversized pill and barely catching it.

“Whoa there,” she attempts to comfort, voice low, hands held in front of her.

The horse gnashes square teeth at her, cry turning painful when he tries to pop onto his back legs.

“Whoa there.” I mimic Astrid entirely, stepping towards the stall, heart swelling with something important when he looks at me, breathing hard, gnashing his teeth but no longer crying.

“Devil maybe,” she suggests under her breath, jealous where she was just half-way decently ok with me, and my mouth has always been a few leaps and bounds ahead of my pre-cognition.

“Toothless.” I snort at my own joke and she stares at me like I’m stupid again. Still stupid. A fossilized kind of stupid that she or someone she knows probably wants to mine for crude oil. “Because he never shows them to me.”

She sighs then points at the wheelbarrow, which is already full again, because I actually did move more horse shit than her and I’ve got the exhausted back and shoulders to prove it, “dump this, then meet me at the chicken coop.”

The chicken coop is worse than the stalls.

I’ll never complain about horse shit again, as long as I live. Or at least until the next time I have to deal with it, more likely.

Which is the next day.

And the next.

The fourth morning in my own private Wyoming, she wakes me up earlier than normal, and I find myself completely unsecured in the back of the old ranch truck alongside giant flakes of hay, staring at Fishlegs as Astrid starts driving through the field.

For all my dad talks about loving his life and his cows, it really does feel like I’m just pelting them in the face with itchy dried grass that makes me wish I’d borrowed some of the thick gloves from the barn.

“You can throw them farther than that!” Astrid calls out the window and I grunt, tossing one as far as I can and turning back to Fishlegs.

“What is her problem?”

“What?”

“I said,” I clear my throat and try and take out the welling anger on another flake of hay, which falls apart in the breeze and ends up mostly in my face. And mouth. And hair. “What is Astrid’s problem?”

“Well,” he pauses, and he doesn’t get yelled at immediately, of course, “I did hear she failed math.”

“So, the ghost of unsatisfied Algebra II homework possessed her and turned her soul to pure evil?” I huff.

She can probably hear me.

I don’t care if she hears me, I don’t think. She can hide a body, probably, and she could skewer me with a pitchfork, but the only thing she resents more than me is Toothless and then she’d be stuck with him, so…

“I would have tutored her, if I wasn’t off at school—”

My glare cuts him off and he starts shoving hay off of the back of the truck again.

“No, I don’t care about her grades, I—she has it out for me.” It’s the only explanation. She’s probably operating under some misconception that my being here will have some impact on her being my dad’s favorite, or something. Which given how little he’s spoken to me for the last few days, is absolutely not true, and it makes me want to pound on the back window and tell her that she can have him.

Except my arms hurt. I don’t think I can ‘pound’ on anything, not in so many words.

And I bet I’ll have to muck stalls when I get back to the ranch. Maybe I can have a break if my arm literally falls off. I wonder if that would make me more or less symmetrical.

“She doesn’t,” Fishlegs assures me, sweeping the rest of the hay out of the rusted bed with his foot and thumping on the top of the cab before sitting down. Before I have time to ask why, Astrid speeds up and turns around, almost flinging me out of the bed, and I end up sprawled with a handful of stupid, itchy hay up the back of my shirt, ass throbbing from smacking the bed too hard.

“What was that then?” I spit out a piece of hay, finding some in my hair and knowing that this isn’t the time to shower. Not until she’s done with me. Or my arm falls off.

Or maybe she’d just show me how to scoop one handed.

And it’s barely past dawn.

“She drives fast.”

“I can see that.”

“I’ve heard she’s been driving ranch trucks since she was nine,” he leans forward, barely speaking above the roar of the engine. “Ever since she could reach the pedals.”

“I’ve been hot wiring cars ever since I forged a key to the teacher’s lounge,” I mutter under my breath, not competing in a race I can’t win so much as I wish I could shock and awe without my dad calling the cops. I’m still expecting a scared straight romp for stealing a stupid pack of gum from Gobber, but maybe he figures Astrid will kill me first.

I do have to muck when I get back.

Then I get cryptic instructions to ‘hand walk’ Toothless, to which I respond that I probably couldn’t get a very good grip on him with my toes. Astrid doesn’t laugh, just shoves an old horse-leash into my hand before telling me cryptically that she’ll find me later.

And that’s my life now. Living in fear of Astrid finding me, never able to avoid her. Like I’m running and screaming and looking for a quiet corner to nurse my wounds, but she always finds me, always calm, always stern. Usually holding something sharp.

It’s like if Michael Meyers was a really hot teenage girl.

The twins teach me how to milk their goats one morning, and at first I don’t think it’ll be that bad because at least I get to sit, but somehow, walking a horse around and lifting horse shit also makes my butt hurt. Who knew.

Also, the twins don’t shut up.

“Heard you were asking what’s up with Astrid,” Ruffnut sing-songs during a rare, nearly pleasant pause in the conversation, and I accidentally squirt goat milk at my shoe. It soaks through. Which is great. I understand boots now that I have goat milk between my toes. Couldn’t have aimed left, that would have been too pleasant.

“Mostly in a ‘what do I tell the priest?’ way.”

“She’s single,” Ruffnut raises her eyebrows, “but hasn’t finished high school yet, so the priest talk is probably pretty pre-mature.”

“What does high school or her relationship status have to do with the exorcism?” I snort.

“I’ve heard she can lift like five-hundred pounds,” Tuffnut adds, “and I’ve heard that dirt doesn’t stick to her. Like she could roll in a pile of dirt, and her very aura would just reject it.”

“I…don’t think that’s true.” I almost want to ask Tuffnut what geometric shape he thinks the earth is, but it’ll bug me too much if he’s wrong.

“She can talk to goats,” Tuffnut continues, “she’s said some very unkind things to Chicken, and Duchess here translated.” He pats the goat he’s milking on the butt and accidentally squirts more milk at my right foot. Great.

Awesome.

“She likes tall guys. Not historically, but I can just kind of guess that she would now,” Ruffnut grins, “she doesn’t need as much sleep as anyone else—”

“Because she got bitten by a radioactive spider and became a vigilante but it’s not very useful in a town with no crime,” Tuffnut cuts her off and Ruffnut squirts him with goat’s milk on purpose. He catches it in his mouth and proceeds to cough.

“She’s not Spiderman”

“Then why’d she get that spider out of my room that one time?” He wheezes, and I’d rather roll in the horse poop mound than be here right now.

“Because you were screaming.” Ruffnut grins at me again, and I get the feeling that she thinks I’m here for her entertainment. I’ve never liked that feeling, honestly. I don’t like expectation. I’d rather just force my antics on people and be rejected than never live up to the assumption in someone else’s head.

And I know for a fact that I could never compete with whatever Ruffnut is coming up with. More than that, I wouldn’t want to.

“Plus, I know Peter Parker. He’s holding the high rise down while I…do this.” I try and pet the goat I’m milking. It tries to bite me.

Toothless is about the only farm animal that is toothless towards me.

“So you’re asking for rumors about Astrid?” Ruffnut tries again, and I sigh.

“No, I’m just…wondering why she’s so…” there are a lot of words I could use. Bitchy, if I wanted Heather to slap me mentally from thousands of miles away. Demanding, if I wanted to complain, which I don’t, because it would all obviously get back to her and then my dad. “Against me, in particular.”

“She’s not,” Tuffnut sighs, “she’s like this with everyone, always trying to make us work harder, as if some of us haven’t already reached peak potential.” He squirts at Ruffnut and gets it in her hair before laughing.

She stands up and splashes the whole bucket she’d managed to collect on his face and my right shoe gets even soggier. Great. Fantastic.

“He’s right, for once,” Ruffnut assures between laughs, tossing the bucket itself at Tuffnut’s head and knocking him off of his stool. “She just genuinely wakes up every day excited to go do things and chores and she thinks everyone else should too. It’s bizarre.”

“You’ve disrespected the Duchess,” Tuffnut stands up, prepared to tackle his sister and I leave before it can get any worse, for once sure that I won’t get the blame for things not going perfectly.

There are an old pair of boots in the hall closet that fit me with a thick pair of socks and when I start wearing them, my dad looks almost proud. That makes it worse, but I can’t tell him that I’m not trying to fit in, because Toothless needs another round of antibiotics, and when he asks Astrid how I’ve been doing, she shrugs in some kind of silent acceptance that seems like it’s in my dad’s language more than mine.

I’ve lost count of my days in hostile solitude when I get stuck on my back under a tractor with Snotlout, trying to diagnose an engine that appears to be held together with duct tape and a water bottle full of amber liquid I don’t recognize.

“Well, I think I see the problem,” I point at the bottle and he snorts.

“That connects the thingamajig to the thing,” he points at what I believe to be the oil pan, “I fixed it last year, it’s fine.”

“It’s a water bottle.”

“So, I heard you’ve been asking about Astrid,” he gloats, and I hate that I’ve been mucking Hookfang’s stall and more than that, I hate that Hookfang is kind of nice, in a begging dog way.

“Does she know that the tractor is held together with floss and paperclips?” I scoot away from him, feeling bare dirt through my too thin jeans, back and side sore from the morning in the barn. “Because that seems like the kind of lack of perfection which would make her make me do fifty pushups while chanting some mantra about getting up before the sun.”

“I’m kind of the Astrid expert, ask me anything.” He reaches up and wraps a new length of duct tape around a leaking pipe and I wince.

“Alright, why does Tuffnut think she’s Spiderman?”

“He’s an idiot.”

“That does not take an Astrid expert to answer,” I roll out from under the tractor, sure that it’s above my paygrade, which is zero.

Actually, it’s less than zero, given that I’m working for horse medicine that isn’t even possible for me to have fun with. I’m an indentured servant working on behalf of a horse, next to an idiot who tapes tractors together like he’ll be opening an exhibit of redneck macaroni art called “John Deere, an American Journey” at the tri-county community center soon.

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you a secret.” Snotlout is easy to read. He’s a ransom note of a man, put together from the Cheyenne Gazette, Laramie Chronicle, and Bum-Fuck Nowhere Times, then laminated with some deep-seated fear that I don’t believe his swagger. Which I don’t.

“Please, don’t enlighten me.”

“Astrid looks like she’s what? A B-cup?” He says with a straight face and I let myself imagine telling Astrid this, because while I don’t want her to headbutt me, Snotlout might be satisfying, “but you’d be wrong. C-cup. All the way.”

“No shit.” I deadpan, “I’m sure this tractor is in your capable hands so I’m just going to go…not here.”

“I know from when we dated.”

“Right.” I stand up, “I’m…bye. Maybe I’ll go clean the chicken coop, because it’s disgusting, and you won’t follow me.”

I don’t though. I go talk to Toothless. I smooth a brush over his fur the way I’ve seen Astrid do to Stormfly, carefully avoiding the nearly healed slash in his back leg. I tell him about fire escapes and self-destination and if it weren’t for Astrid finding me before dinner, I’d probably miss it.

I almost tell her what Snotlout said, just to watch the carnage, but I really don’t want to be stuck dealing with that tractor.

00000

It takes an hour and some not so dignified groveling to Fishlegs to convince my father that Skype isn’t going to give his barely half a tier above dial-up internet a virus. It takes two additional days to actually set a time with Heather because her social life has apparently boomed without me and because Astrid hid my phone yesterday until I finished cleaning out the chicken coop.

Because beneath her irritatingly beautiful exterior, she’s the reincarnation of a knuckle slapping nun who hates left-handedness and the suggestion of fun.

But almost two weeks since I left New York, I’m oh-so-generously given an hour off stall mucking duty before dinner by Commander in Chief Hofferson, and Heather’s brother took her fake ID, apparently, so I sit down at the tiny desk sized for my eight year old self and turn on my laptop for the first time since I’ve been here. It’s a little strange, how much has changed in the last two weeks, the dirt from Toothless’s fur caked under my fingernails, the sunburned skin tight across the bridge of my nose. Back home I used to never be outside enough to really get a tan. It was always muggy and Mom had it so ingrained that the smell wasn’t the river, it was slaughterhouse runoff up-river, that hanging around outside never really seemed appetizing. Here though, it’s cold until almost lunch and by then I’m pink almost to peeling even while I’m still shivering.

The internet takes three limping tries to connect. My dad’s password is Haddock. No numerals, just his last name. If that’s a Wyoming benchmark, I wonder how hard it would be to break into that tiny, old-fashioned-shootout looking bank in town to steal the price of a plane ticket home. I’ll ask Heather today if I could sleep under her bed.

I call her on Skype once the internet seems somewhat, tenuously solid, and she picks up almost immediately, the eyeliner smudged under her eyes exacerbating the graininess of the image somehow. She doesn’t look like she’s been sleeping much and she adjusts her screen, the window blurring as my connection flickers.

“Oh my god, this is so 2009,” she laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Is that the lighting? Or…oh my god, are you tan? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the lighting, I’m definitely sunburned,” I laugh, glancing at myself in the small front facing window. If it’s possible, I’ve lost weight since I’ve been here, all the stupid, draining manual labor, and my cheeks look as hollow as my plan to hitchhike back to New York without being caught or murdered. Or caught and murdered.

My dad would probably let Astrid do the honors.

“I didn’t realize there was sun in Wyoming.”

“As it’s on the planet Earth, it does occasionally experience direct sunlight, especially because I can currently see the only two trees in about a fifty-mile radius from my window right now.”

She laughs and I almost wish we hadn’t done this, because the pang in my chest is so distinctly homesickness. I hadn’t felt homesick before now, not really. Grumpy, sure, belligerent, always. Stubborn? All the time. But now I’m stuck on the way it used to sound when Heather’s laugh wasn’t filtered through two shitty speakers and she was sneaking in my window at 2 in the morning because her brother let some new crazy come in.

“Well, I solved global warming then, we just need to stop the sun from hitting places that don’t have trees or people.” She taps her temple with a dark polished finger, “why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“I really don’t know, all your ideas are so practical.”

“And I thought I missed you,” she scoffs, something treacherously close to a genuine expression tugging at the corners of her mouth, and even while webcams make me look yellow and scrawnier than normal, Heather looks great in all her smudged makeup, forcefully edgy glory. “I’m going to hang up, let you die in my mind as a happy memory.”

“Like that would convince anyone.” I laugh. She laughs. The bad connection whispers static and she bites her lip.

I don’t know how to tell her about Toothless.

I hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t thought that I’d want to tell her about anything here because she’s separate, a relic reminding me of all the reasons I have to get back but now there’s a reason I almost want to stay and I’m not sure if it’s stronger than the brunt of Heather’s sheer, practiced cynicism.

“Things are boring here without you,” she rolls her eyes, holding long bangs in front of her eyes and checking for split ends, “Dagur’s on some new parenting kick because your mom had some scary conversation with him. I should get her a cat or something so she has someone to boss around that isn’t me.”

“What’d you do to make her talk to your brother?”

“It’s funny, because your mom used to be the one talking about how play based kindergartens in Scandanavia are so much better than the homework geared education system here, but if anyone tries to stay in your old room to protest the frankly ridiculous workload in an American high school, suddenly it’s cause for alarm.”

“Have you thought any more about law school? Because that’s quite the argument.”

“Right, because any individuality can be crammed into the stuffiest of stuffed shirt professions.”

“I mean, not the stuffiest, there’s a scarecrow in the pumpkin patch that has more stuffing in his shirt than any lawyer I’ve ever met.”

“You just haven’t been around enough lawyers. Because you’ve been spending too much time at the pumpkin patch, apparently.”

“It’s on the way to the…” I pause before saying ‘barn’ because barn feels like it means something more than it does. Like yes, a structure that houses animals, commonly cows or horses but also…somewhere I’ve been spending a lot of time. Somewhere I don’t hate quite as much as Heather hates everywhere. “The house, back from the chicken coop, where I get to spend my early mornings scraping chicken shit off of the dirt.”

“Ah, the charming calm of pastoral life,” she rests her cheek on her hand and flutters her eyelashes. I see the corner of some new tattoo creeping onto her wrist but if she hasn’t told me yet I probably shouldn’t ask, and it’s like she’s got her own Toothless.

I don’t think we’ve ever had secrets. Not since she dropped into my bedroom eerily silently when I was thirteen and I didn’t have the chance to get my pants back up before she noticed what I was doing.

There’s a knock on my doorframe and of course I forgot to close the door and of course when I turn around it’s Astrid, because she has an unfortunate sixth sense for when I have an uncomfortable thought in my head.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, “I was just coming to tell you that we got back early so dinner might be early.”

“Ok.” I stare at her and she doesn’t leave, “I’m kind of having a conversation here, so could you shut the door on the way out?”

“You aren’t coming to dinner?”

“I’ll be down in a bit.”

She looks me up and down, pausing at my shoulder like she’s trying to see the laptop behind it and I glare at her.

“Fine,” she reaches for the doorknob, “it’s not my fault if there’s nothing left when you grace us with your presence.”

“Nothing ever is, Your Great Bossiness,” I mumble as I turn back to the screen, and Astrid might have heard me from the pause before she yanks the door fully shut.

For a second I think the internet glitched out, because Heather is staring at me with a near constipated expression, but her eyebrow quirks with natural fluidity and I shrug.

“Are you going to make me ask who that was?”

“If you ask are you going to make me answer?” I rub my forehead, “it was just Astrid, my dad’s most favoritest ranch-hand and the bossiest perfectionist I’ve ever met. As you saw, she cannot stay out of anyone’s business for a second.”

“So, not a new best friend, then?”

“God no,” I snort, “I might actually permit your careless use of the word ‘fascist’ in this case.”

Heather rolls her eyes, the big sort of eye roll she reserves for teachers and her brother when he claims not to know all about the permission slip he obviously signed weeks ago, “did you get an impenetrable coating of country dust in your eye or something?”

“What?”

“Are you blind?” She scoffs, crossing her arms so that I see a few straight delicate lines of the tattoo I don’t know about.

“Once again, what?”

“I didn’t realize you’d lost your ability to identify a hot girl, Hiccup, we’ve got to get you home asap, put you through some remedial training.”

I snort, “Astrid? Yeah, I mean, I’m not blind, but if she’s hot it’s in the ‘fire and brimstone’, satanic way.”

Heather’s staring at me like she can get my pulse from the flicker of her screen or something and I sigh.

“I have a horse.”

“What?” She laughs, “what does that have to do with Astrid being hot? That’s—oh god, Hiccup, I’ll get a psychiatrist note to get you back to civilization asap—”

“No!” I run my hand through my constantly grubby hair, “I—there was a horse when I got here. He was hurt and cranky and didn’t like any of them so they were going to put him down but he liked me and I gave him his antibiotics a few times and now I guess he’s mine and Astrid’s sure she knows everything—Like she thinks she invented horses, I swear—and…” I almost do jazz hands and say ‘ta-da’, but I hold that back. “What’s the new tattoo?”

I’m not as successful at holding back. Apparently.

“Oh,” she holds up her arm, upside down, “it’s that thing we talked about, the constellations?” She twists her arm and reveals thin black line stylizations of Lyra the harp and a slightly larger Aquila the eagle. The stars are careful dots of black on blank white skin and she traces her finger up the inside of her elbow, “and after it heals some, because this hurt more than my leg for some reason, I’m going to get the milky way up around here.”

“Right,” I laugh, “those were the two.”

“Gosh, back then you weren’t Mr. Cowboy yet and you thought your mom’s friend’s farm upstate was really roughing it.”

“So did you!” I shake my head, “you thought there were bears and you kept trying to climb into my sleeping bag.”

“I was cold!” She crosses her arms again, “no one told me we’d be sleeping in a tent. I thought it was a sleeping bag on the living room floor kind of deal.”

“And you hated it.”

“If I wanted to go camping, I’d follow the disillusioned youth to backpack across southeast Asia, where I know there are no bears.”

“Right, only occasionally man-eating tigers, much more manageable.”

“We’ll just have to bring your horse, they can outrun tigers, right?” She leans forward, like she’s interested, or trying to be, “they can hold two people, I know they can, my mom used to love ancient western romances.”

“Well, he can’t hold anyone yet, or maybe he can, I don’t know, he hasn’t yet. I don’t really know how to train him and he won’t let anyone else close to him so…it’s a learning curve. It’s not like I can take him apart and see how he works.” I look at the door, because if Astrid’s going to eavesdrop, this is probably going to be the time, “he’s black. There’s probably some fancy word for that like there is for everything having to do with horses but it just looks like black to me. And he’s smaller, I guess he’s like feral or something, and all the horses around here are super fancy quarter horses.”

“Does he have a name or are you waiting on something fancy for that too?”

“Toothless,” I snort, “because I’m the only one he doesn’t bite on sight. It drives Astrid crazy. She thought she was a bona fide horse whisperer before I came along.”

“Hmm,” Heather leans forward, like she’s tired, but not like I’m boring her. The strap of her tank top slips over her shoulder, flirting with where she wants that milky way and I clear my throat. She cocks her head. “What?”

“Your uh, your strap.”

“It’s two hours later here than it is there, excuse me for being in my grounded pajamas.” Her smile is too tight to be genuine as she continues and I can’t help but note it’s only 5 here, “and your mom locked your window after the whole skipping school incident.”

“You said skipping, not protesting.”

“Whatever,” she shrugs, “skipping is protesting.”

It’s too quiet. Heather and I are never this quiet. We’ve always struggled to whisper. Something feels wrong about it and I look at the time.

“I hate to do this but Astrid isn’t kidding, if I don’t get down there soon there’s not going to be any food left in this house.”

“No one could save you a plate?” She raises her eyebrow, head tilting to the side as the camera catches the shadow of her collar bone in particularly stark relief.

“I’d say it’s a fair feast for 20 people split six ways, including my dad. And then there’s me, scraping at the crumbs. Mom would kill me, I’m eating steak every night, my carbon footprint is huge without accounting for the gas guzzling farm trucks.”

“I’ll tell her, she’ll have you home and back on tofu in an instant.”

“If it were that easy, I’d be back already.” That feels like a lie, because I know already that I can’t leave Toothless, not now, not like this, but it also feels like something that I need to say. Like please and thank you and hello and goodbye. “Anyway though, I gotta go. But we have to chat again the next time you have a hole in your social schedule and Astrid isn’t flogging me to scrub dirt, or something.”

“Yeah, go fight for your steak dinner,” she snorts, “and I promise that’s hotter in my head than it sounds.”

“Yes, remember me like that, gallantly fighting for my dinner, not…sunburned and at an elementary school reject desk.”

“No promises,” she laughs before waving goodbye and hanging up.

My stomach grumbles and I shut my laptop, walking downstairs and out onto the porch where everyone’s staring at me just enough to re-energize old school middle school nightmares about going to school naked and legless.

“Saved you a steak,” Astrid points at the grill glaring at Snotlout like he’d made her argue for it.

“Thanks,” I put it on a plate along with one of the always hard freezer rolls dad keeps buying even though no one actually likes them and when I turn around, everyone is still staring at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” Snotlout shrugs, “just no one would save me food if I held up dinner while talking to my girlfriend.”

“Heather isn’t my girlfriend, who said she was my girlfriend?”

Everyone shifts slightly to look at Astrid. I’m overwhelmingly glad that my dad isn’t here.

“What?” She stands, setting her plate on the table, “you were being all cryptic and talking to a girl alone in your room. It’s not a wild assumption.”

“It’s sort of wild that you’d relay your assumption to everyone.”

“Not everyone,” she rolls her eyes, “I didn’t tell your dad.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” My dad walks out through the sliding glass door, “oh, and Hiccup, I went ahead and turned the internet back off.”

“Mr. Haddock, it’s perfectly safe to just leave it on,” Fishlegs starts, and for a second I think ‘thank god, someone partially on my side in all this’, but then he continues, “at U-dub the wireless only goes down a few times a year for maintenance and no one gets any information they shouldn’t—”

“That’s because no one wants it, Fish,” I cut him off, sitting down next to Ruffnut and stabbing the steak with my fork. I honestly don’t get the big deal. After a decade of halfway dedicated vegetarianism and occasional vegan adventures, I really don’t get the steak hysteria. I’d rather have a big mac right now, to be honest. Something unhealthy that actually tastes like it.

My phone buzzes and I pull it out to see a text from Heather.

Heather: Btw, sneaking out, if I don’t contact you in 48 hours, call the police, my brother probably killed me

“See? It’s totally his girlfriend,” Snotlout grumbles, “look at how focused he is on his phone.”

“Girlfriend?” My dad sits down next to Astrid who obediently scoots to make room, “Hiccup can’t possibly have a girlfriend.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

“Well he does and her name is Heather, allegedly,” Tuffnut leans back against the porch railing, “all of this is alleged by others than Hiccup himself, so it’s allegedness remains allegedful.”

“Heather? Your kid friend?” My dad raises his eyebrows, “I didn’t realize she was still around.”

“Still lives upstairs, still my friend, not my girlfriend, can we be done with this?” I glare at Astrid, because it is all her fault, anyway. Her fault for not knowing the meaning of privacy and her fault for telling secrets she has no place in.

“Yeah, shut up about it everyone,” she waves her fork around like she’s issuing a public decree and I narrow my eyes.

“I think me asking them to shut up was probably adequate—”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Her jaw flexes, a silent irritation not quite bordering on challenge and my dad clears his throat.

“Ruffnut, it’s your turn to do the dishes tonight.” He announces, standing up and grabbing his plate.

Ruffnut groans, “of course I get stuck in the kitchen the one time something actually happens.”

“Nothing is happening,” Astrid takes a near vengeful bite of steak before pushing her half-eaten plate towards Tuffnut, who grabs it eagerly as she stands up, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. 5am. Try to get up yourselves this time.”

She stalks off and I try to ignore the burning of the back of my neck from Ruffnut staring at me. I cave, glaring up at her.

“What?”

“Not your girlfriend, huh?”

“Don’t you have dishes to do?” I look back at my plate, trying to maintain some appetite after the long day I had but it’s all gone. I shove it to the middle of the table and stand up myself.

Toothless isn’t busy, at least that’s something I can count on.

#t:rttbposc #httyd fic #modern au #hiccstrid #horse girl hiccup #he's...so bratty #why is he so bratty #i love him #i do fear i'm going to have to explain wyoming to people though #just like the concept #it's a state with only 2 escalators #people refer to a place with two grocery stores as a city #always windy #coal and cows and yeah like yellowstone but at what cost?

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abloomntime · 4 years

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A Bloom In Time Ch 31

( Hey Guys. Sorry this chapter took so long. It's still my personal headcannon that the Twilight Bell takes you to the Horizon. The song Hattie is the unused song about the Moonjumper.)

How could she have not see all the thing's lining up with what he had said done, and what other's had said about him?! How could Poppy been so blind out what was staring at her before her very eyes?! Sleep didn't come to her that night, and she found herself staring at the dark ceiling. The final pieces of the puzzle fitting together as she remembered all the scenarios that gave away Snatcher's identity.

When she first glimpsed him at the manor. The brown hair was...P-Philip's. It was like everyone's voices and actions were being replayed back through her head with every moment of foreshadowing, hints, and puzzle pieces finally being put back together-

"Hey! I know who can help! Snatcher can!! He's really, REALLY old too and he should what to do!! Come on! He had to deal with being frozen and Vanessa just like you!" Hattie had given her the first major clue to it all. He had to deal with being froze to death AND Vanessa because he was the one who took the brunt of Vanessa's rage. "Hey! I know what can help a little bit. Y-You like flowers right?" He had a flash of panic fly over his face for a moment before he coughed and shrugged. "You said you had a flower stand before Vanessa sent her goons to take you right? O-Obviously you must've liked growing things then. Or at least flowers." That....THAT PECKING PECKNECK KNEW ALL ALONG SHE LOVED FLOWERS!! HE PECKING KNEW!! "We're all that's left and you should accept that's how it is now before you get hurt. Believe me the sooner you do the sooner everything starts to get better for you." "Hey. I can understand that. Believe it or not you're not the only one who's gone through that kind of thing....I'm certainly no stranger to feeling like that. In fact it took me forever literally just to realize my place after I got lost," "Ok. To make it in mushier terms..I DO want to help you ok. Believe it or not I do and I have my reasons. But you gotta know I can't change the past no matter what. Trust me I have TRIED and look where that got me. Stuck fused with a mushy corpse and having to lead a whole bunch of strangers through the forest like a tour guide." he glanced at her confusion again. "Uh..B-But that's not important. The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you." Her face dropped and eyes widened even more- "But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers. I know, I've experienced it for hundreds of years. Just know that...You're not going to be alone in any of this alright?" "No. You were right the first time. She was always a monster, it just took her a while to show everyone what was really inside. So don't give her any credit. She was never a queen, just a spider wearing a pretty mask." "I-I...I know exactly how you feel." He scowled. "Yeah. I know EXACTLY how that feels. Vanessa took everything from me too when she froze everything!" He growled and his grip on her became a bit tighter if he was being a lil protective. "I pecking didn't see it coming until it froze me right before my very eyes! I died before my life even took off the ground and now I'm stuck like this....But you aren't." He ...attempted a smile. "Listen, Poppy. I'm not good at this speaking from the heart stuff, but Im pretty good at speaking from experience stuff. So trust me when I saw you still got your whole life plus more ahead of you. It's....probably going to take a while for you to process this properly and start to move on like I did." "Look. I ....can't change the past no matter how badly I want to. But I can change the future, and so can you. Think of all the things you can do now without anyone to hold you back!" He might've been speaking from what he perceived as a positive but she gave him a funny look. "Uh...By that I mean vanessa of course. She's not holding you prisoner anymore." "I stumbled across him a few times coming up here to visit. Hmph! He's very rude and always steals any dish I make with bacon when he's around me cooking. Quite the oddball out if ya'll ask me." P-Philip ....LOVED bacon. And Vanessa banned bacon from their kingdom around the time she died. "Of course I can! I made the kids all those clothes and my minions their highly durable bodies." ""YOU painted all of these?" she asked gawking at him His smile widened more smug if that was possible. "Yep. And those." He pointed to the left wall wear there was five giant paintings behind the space cow mobile. He then pointed behind her. "And the ones right behind you." Now that Poppy thought about it hard, she faintly recalled Philip learning embroidery from his mother and taking a liking to hobbies like painting and reading books. Both of which he did and you can CERTAINLY learn to sew along with embroidery. "How do you know that?," she asked genuinely confused. "UH....I- Um-....I-I-I was there when he was killed." He still eyed her for a moment before looking to the floor unable to look her in the eyes anymore. ".......Vanessa killed him. Just like she did to everyone else....a-a-and y-y-you...." "Just like you. She locked him away until everything froze over. Vane-.....That MONSTER!'', he spat hand slightly tightening as he scowled at the floor, "She was pecking crazy. Thought he was....cheating on her behind her back when he was nothing but patient with her. She didn't deserve anything." "Because she was nuts! Always have been and always WILL be! She would've snapped sooner or later with the way she was back then, always so paranoid and thinking I-.....I THINK he belonged to her." His other hand was quick to shoot out and grab her shoulders accidentally making her jolt at the sudden grab but it was enough to get her to look at him. "Now you listen to me and you listen good." A claw poked her chest as he pointed it at her crying face with a deep frown of his own. "I have dealt with too many years of pecking guilt over whether or not it was my fault or if I could've stopped it! And I'm sick of it all! You. Are. Not. At fault!! Do you hear me?! Vanessa was always going to snap and it was HER fault for being so batpecking crazy, she couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality! There was no reason in her! We should've expected nothing less of her for anything! But I'll be just as bad if I didn't it now, and I'm saying it's not your fault. Least of all people you. All you did was sell flowers. Big deal. It would've been the same if she saw m-....him buying a necklace from a jeweler or a ham from the butcher. BANG!!" She flinched at the loud yell he made at 'BANG'. Tears running down her face as he spoke. "Ice. Death. Lots of ghosts. You get the picture. The point is, it's ABSOLUTELY! NOBODY'S PECKING FAULT!! BUT VANESSA'S!! .......You and me didn't do anything wrong." "So-...I take it this..'prince' friend of yours was a nice person? Not that I knew him, but it seems you two were close. Not that it's any of my business." He had an anxious feeling saying all of this as a stranger but he couldn't help but feel the need to get all this anxiety off himself by asking. "It just sounds like you cared about him a whole lot." "Yeah.....Hey. This might sound out of no where but do you blame him, your friend, for what happened between him and Vanessa?" "How did you die?," she found herself blurting out before she could stop but she instantly regretted it. "WHAT?!" Snatcher whipped his face to her wide eyed. "S-Sorry." She held up her hands worriedly. "Is it rude to ask a dead person that? I d-didn't know honest. It's just that.....You're doin' an aweful lot for me and I don't know a lot about ya, since you already know alot 'bout me from my rambling. I figured ya would return the favor." "Sorry. NO can do, Red. That's private information." She scowled again. "OH come on! Purple onion. Your contract paper thingy said I could ask for anything I wanted in return for helping ya!" "Within REASON!," Snatcher stressed, "Asking a ghost about their past is like asking a poor person how much money they spent on their shoes!" "Same as you. I died during the Great Subcon Freeze." "Oh. Well you said you saw what happened when Philip....p-p-passed away, right? Does that mean you were employed by the Queen?'' "Sorta. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time." Which wasn't really a lie. He couldn't have ever been in a more wrong place or time. "Another innocent bystander to a crazy curse." "Oh right. Dumb question. Then who wer-" "Next question!," "Ok! Well ya technically did, but I mean what made ya decide to help me? I just don't get it.". "Because I recognized you from the village." "I-...Sometimes saw you selling flowers in the square, and-.....I guess I was simpathetic to someone else in a similar situation as I was."

That.....Night....The night she had her nightmare. THERE WAS SO MANY HINTS HITTING HER IN THE FACE AND SHE WAS STILL BLIND TO THEM ALL!!

"So....does that mean Philip is a g-ghost too?" "A ghost? Well that's not exactly easy to answer. Any ghost I know if they even became ghosts would be in the forest .....or another plain of existance. A-And like I said BARELY any of my minions remember who they were before they died."

He LIED!!....No. Not exactly lied. He did tell the truth but...BENT IT!! Without actually answering anything!! Or telling Poppy anything!! WHY?! What reason would he have to keep his identity hidden from her?! They were friends....Weren't they? ALL OF IT!! Everything he or anyone else had said lined up perfectly with what Moonjumper-....Or second Philip had told her.

"And you know I could always scare you out of any debt you got yourself into with those pecknecks down there." He offered genuinely. "I may not look like it, but I'm very good at legal technicalities. I did want to be a lawyer at once upon a time!" Philip studied laws to better his future kingdom one day. He always said he wanted to be a good king. And mentioned if he wasn't destined to be prince he would've liked to become a lawyer. And there was a bush cat in his home...Philip mentioned having a pet bush cat. A gift from his father. Moonjumper's echoing voice still rang around in her head with everything he said. "HA! That's rich coming from him! That halfling is lying right to your face!" "Why? Didn't dear Snatcher tell you?" He chuckled and gave a smile similar to Snatcher's smug one. "We're two halves of the same person.~ Split at death and now wondering through death two halves of the same person.~" "Oh! He didn't tell you did he?" He smiled and gestured to himself with a smile. "Well allow me to elaborate for you, my dear.~ Snatcher and I are both Prince Philip Snider Of the Kingdom of Subconette.~ When we died in the frozen celler we split personalities resulting in us becoming two very different ghosts. How I have no idea, but it's quite the sight isn't it?~"

"Are you sure about that?"

No. No she wasn't. She wasn't sure of anything any more than she ever fully did in her entire life. It-....IT DIDNT FEEL REAL!! IT FELT LIKE A BAD DREAM!! ALL OF IT!! THE THREE MONTHS SHE SPENT HERE AND EVERYTHING THAT"S HAPPENED ALL FELT LIKE ONE BAD ROLLAR COASTER RIDE OF A DREAM!! AND ANY MINUTE NOW SHE WAS GONNA WAKE UP IN HER BED, GET UP AS SHE USUALLY DOES, SHAKE OFF THE WEIRD DREAM, AND GO BACK TO WORKING HER STANDS AND SEE PHILIP AGAIN!! HER DEAR FRIEND!!......But it sadly wasn't a dream no matter how much it felt like it. As she stared at the ceiling from her makeshift bed, she was VERY aware of the ghost that happily still read the book about black holes like a dedicated reader. .....Was this really Philip? There was plenty of proof, but how could she know for sure? What was real and what wasn't? It's safe to say sleep didn't come easy to her that night but she guessed at some point she did give in to sleep because when she woke up Poppy was still tired and 'Snatcher was gone. Guess he left sometime after she fell asleep. It was weird after that. It was like Poppy was on numb autopilot for days after that. She still took care of herself and the girls. Still cooked for them, cleaned if needed, made sure herself and the kids were clean, played when they asked her to spend time with them except now they referred to Poppy as Mum. Which she didn't have the heart, focus, or energy at the moment to bother correcting. Her mind kept revolving back around to Mr. Moonjumper (philip 2.0) said and still couldn't figure out why. Why did he say that? Was it even true? Was Snatcher even who he said he was? She barely got any of the script read during that time of course. During that time she busied herself with learning how the new tech worked, mostly the washer, dryer, and the oven. Took a bunch of practice but she got.....decent at working them at least. But she found herself getting through half of the script at least when she got the second call from Mr. Grooves. She was just in the kitchen cooking eggs in a frying pan for her and the two girls waiting when Bow came bounding in and tugging on her dress with that giant innocent smile of hers.

"Mom. There's a call for you from Mr. Grooves."

"Hm what?....OH! R-Right. I'll be right there."

It took a quick turn off on the oven and walk(crawl) to the machine room to actually take the call as she held it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Darling," came the voice of the penguin as happy and calm as she first rememebered. "You're probably wondering why I'm calling you this early morning?"

"Uh...Yeah actually. Is something wrong?"

"Not at all!" She could feel the smile the penguin had on him at that moment. "We actually have fantastic news! All the sets have been set up and secured not to fall over anymore. We're all ready to start the first rehearsals first thing next week!"

".....F-F-First rehearsals?! So SOON!?," she asked feeling a wave of dread coming over her. She hadn't even finished the script!!

"Yes! That's not a problem is it?"

"U-Uh...N-NO! NO!! Not at all! Hehe." She smiled nervously despite being on the other side of the phone where he couldn't see. "N-N-Next week will be just fine! I c-can't wait to rehearse."

"That's great, Darling! Come to the studious first thing Wednesday morning sharp. We'll start the first run through first thing in the morning when you arrive, Darling. Get up bright and early bird. And don't forget that script now. DJ Grooves out."

"Bye..." Poppy said after hanging up before blankly looking back towards the door. Great. She needed to focus on that script and get it read quickly before next Wednesday!! She didn't even notice the burning smell before Hattie rushed in clutching her hat so it wouldn't fall off.

"POPPY!! THE EGGS ARE BURNING!!"

"OH PECK!!"

It was almost like a blink of an eye when Wendesday finally came for them. Poppy had spent so many hours worriedly reading and rereading the thing over and over trying to focus her energy into it instead of worrying about the Philip/Moonjumper/Snatcher situation and just read. She NEEDED to focus on something else besides thinking of that right now, and when the day finally came she got up to the sight of the girls shaking her awake for it, quickly hurrying herself to get her presentable and grab her trusty leather apron, stuffing her script into the breast pocket and an apple into her mouth for a swift breakfast. Nothing on her mind except how nervous she was and how SO NOT READY she probably was for this. Without Cookie to really escort them to the Moon City, the girls would have to teleport her using the two umbrellas and the magic telescope. She really, really wasn't thrilled at the idea of them carrying her through space, but seeing no other option she reluctantly agreed and after the two got their umbrellas, lead her to the machine room where the telescope apparently pointing towards the bird's studios. Needless to say Poppy held her breath and kept her eyes shut the entire way when Hattie confirmed they would about to take off into space. All she could feel after grabbing the little girls' hands was them death gripping her hard with almost inhuman life strength it almost hurt and the sudden lurch forward with the whoosh sound of two umbrellas opening and finally her body being lifted and pulled through the air like a kite. She didn't look the entire way there, just kept her eyes clamped shut the entire way. She would've loved to look upon the beautiful planet or the diamond stars as she passed but she was afraid she might relive the plummet into the swamp and didn't want to relive THAT near death experience again. So for now she would just hang on for the ride, it almost felt like forever just floating in air drifting like a peaceful kite, before suddenly she was whiplashed back and she gasped as she was suddenly suspended by nothing but her arms in the sky. Poppy's blue eyes snapped open and she suddenly blinked at the sight she was taking part in...and frankly almost lost her pecking mind. She thought hanging from that noose once was bad, try hanging about a hundred feet in the air above a desert town and only being held up by two little children holding her hands with an iron grip her hands were almost numb. Her blue eyes shrinking to pinpricks as her stomach flipped seeing the sight of her suspended.

"It's ok!, " Hattie tried to reassure her as they slowly floated down, "We got you!"

To keep herself from feeling anymore sick, Poppy closed her eyes and didn't open them until her feet connected with solid ground and she lightly gasped, for what felt like forever. Popping her eyes open and seeing the old desert town and almost falling to her knees on wobbling legs. Beside her both girls touched down and closed the umbrellas. Giving Poppy a concerned look.

"Are you ok?"

....After a few seconds of breathing and grounding herself, Poppy nodded and leaned back up with an inhale. "Yeah. N-Now...L-Let's get ta that studio, right?"

It was almost the same exact time when Poppy had come in to get measured for her costume, except this time without Snatcher present to tail her, which she was thankful for right now. She did NOT want to be thinking about him right now, but anyways- It was like the last time they came in, with Mr. Grooves pacing in front of the lobby looking worried and anxious but as soon as he saw them he was immediately smiling and racing over to them.

"DARLING!! There you are!!," the moon penguin boomed out happily stopping in front of them, "And not a minute too soon!" And like last time, he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him towards the big doors leading to the penguins' side of the studios. "We have a rehearsal to perform and practice to be had!!"

Like the last time she entered, everything looked the same except it was now less busy and most of the penguins here were calmly carrying something around or checking the clipboards they were holding for something. Still pretty busy but was way better than last time in here opinion. At least she didn't have to worry about ducking under anything this time around. And like last time the two girls followed only, Mr. Grooves quickly lead them past the changing rooms, and down a different hallway further down the way from the last one. Poppy blinked and watched where they were going, this hallway was much better lit than the giant room outside and multiple props and what looked like painted scenes were printed all over the place leaning against the walls and ready to use at any given moment. Up a head a metal door was waiting for them that read: Back Stage Supervised Personal and Staff Only. They headed straight for that and the Moon penguin opened it with enough force to almost make it hit the other side of the wall. Poppy blinked as she was pulled onto a stage....A REAL wooden floored stage with curtains, and props behind said curtain, and other people waiting there but looked up when the two came in followed by the two girls. They were all there.

"So sorry for the hold up, Darlings," He apologised finally releasing Poppy and smiling at them all, "Thank you all for coming on such short notice to our first rehearsal folks. Now I know the Bird Movie Awards is still so many months away, but we need to practice, practice, practice before we actually start filming the play and editing the footage. Raw talent is the real pop behind the success!" he clapped his flippers together. "Now does everyone have their scripts in hand?" Everyone responded by saying some version of 'yes' and holding up their papers before Grooves nodded in approval and looked up to Poppy. "What about you, Darling?"

Poppy blinked. "UH! Oh r-right." She quickly reached into her front pocket and pulled out the slightly crinkled stack of papers. "H-Here!"

He nodded again, and turned back to the crew. "Alright, Darlings! You all have ten minutes to reveiw your places for the first five scenes before we start! Don't forget just because this is practice that doesn't mean to put the best into your acting! Pretend you're there! Feel the thousands of adoring watching as you all take the stage and dance away!"

"Hello, Miss." Poppy jumped at the sudden voice next to her and looked down to the mysterious owner of the voice it belonged too. Relaxing when she saw the smiling face of Timmy smiling up at her. "Sorry for giving you a fright, but I just wanted to say hello yeah?"

She sighed and smiled. "N-No. It's ok, sugar." She looked up and around a little bit. "Is Hazelle here with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She's just talking to one of the production managers about the spotlight keeping on shining in her eyes. ...But I do have something important to say-"

"Darlings!" They all turned and Saw Grooves looking in their direction. "Sorry my little stars. But no children are allowed on set during rehearsals." Both girls 'awed' in disappointment, excitement to see their story come to life fading but he still smiled. "But you little ones are more than welcome to have a front row seat in the audience while we practice." Both smiled again with happy little gasps making the penguin smile more and turn, motioning for them to follow him. "Come along, Darlings. It's this way."

Bow and Hattie of course obliged and happily bounded off after the director but Timmy lingered. Looking back up to Poppy. "Don't tell anyone this, not even Hazelle. But Moonjumper said to be prepared for me to come fetch you three days from now when it's your day off from work here."

Poppy snapped to him and blinked. "What do you-"

"Little boy! Off the set now. Come along!"

"Sorry. Can't talk now. Just be ready."

She didn't have the chance to say anything back to him before he turned and ran off the other direction, leaving her standing there mouth open and staring blankly at the direction Timmy ran off in. ...At least until there was a yell of someone from the other side of the stage.

"Five minutes people!! Actors for scene one get ready to come up for the opening scene rehearsal! Again five minutes people! Chop chop!!"

Poppy jumped, and with the papers in hand made her way towards the front. The first rehearsal didn't go that badly. In fact it could've been worse. When Mr. Grooves said he really wanted to go by the book he meant it, in fact barely anyone had barely any speaking roles outside the narrator for the play (who happened to be another moon penguin with a deep voice) and all she had to do was do the motions she read in the script and.....messed up a bunch. Stepping on the actor playing Starella's father's foot, tripping over the curtain exiting stage, and once accidentally making Hazelle fall when she nudged her without looking. Thank goodness Hazelle and the male actor was so understanding. It made her nerves rise higher the more they practiced especially with Mr. Grooves watching from a director's chair in the audience and his voice shouting at her or someone else every time something happened.

"CUT!! Darling! Let your body relax, you're movements are becoming too stiff. Once more from the top!!" "Cut! Clean up on center stage!" "Darling, be careful where you step! Don't step on anyone's toes." "Lights, camera, action!!" "Take Seven on opening scene in three!...Two!.. ONE!! Narrator, Darlin'!"

And a whole bunch of other things she kept getting nervous about, by the time they were done she just felt so drained mentally and physically from it all all she wanted to do was go back home and fall asleep when Mr. Grooves gave her the ok to leave. Which WAS exactly what they did, Poppy paid no mind to anyone else and only barely registered Mr. Grooves telling everyone they'll pick up again from where they left off tomorrow morning and for everyone to get some rest and practice. Sounded good to her. So when the two again grabbed her in their iron grip when she essentially shooed them out the door, she closed her eyes basically doing and feeling the same thing as before when she went down only falling on her stomach as soon as they reentered the ship floating in outer space and got herself some rest. Thinking about what Timmy had said kept rebounding in her mind and with all the stuff clouding it up she was almost like a robot with her actions in the next three says. Get up, dress, hygiene routine, take care of the girls, go to the rehearsals (which was Ok at best. she or others still messed up every often and had to restart a lot which was hard for her clouded mind and nervous feelings), and routine afternoon/bedtime routine before falling into an uneasy sleep. Rinse and repeat for the next three days. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. She had tried every so often to talk with Hazelle or Timmy about it, but Hazelle seemed genuinely busy with her role as the evil step sister reading that script, and Timmy just avoided any thing she asked if she could before running off to the audience seats to avoid her. And during ALL of this Snatcher had not appeared once which she was...still kinda grateful for. She wasn't sure what she was going to do or act around him now since what Moonjumper said was still echoing every moment of the day throughout her mind. In fact Moonjumper hadn't shown up either which what was bothering her a bit since she wanted to ask so many questions. But it all finally came to a head early Sunday morning when she was awakened by someone shoving her shoulder and calling her name. Confused, the red head groaned and pushed her head up from the pillows on the floor where she slept, pushing the long red hair out of her bangs groggily blinking.

"Poppy? Poppy! Get up! Timmy's here!", Hattie shouted shoving her again and she almost fell over back onto her stomach.

"W-What?," she asked sleep stilling hanging onto her. The red head yawned and blinked at the little girl in the dark. "Hattie? Sugarcube, what are ya'll doin' this late at night?"

"It's morning actually, but that's not important!," she insisted pushing upwards against the older woman's shoulder to try and get her to get up, "Get up! Timmy says he has to take you somewhere important!!"

She slowly rose with the child's pushing. "W-Who-...Timmy?"

"Don't tell anyone this, not even Hazelle. But Moonjumper said to be prepared for me to come fetch you three days from now when it's your day off from work here."

At the sudden voice in her memory spoke out, Poppy jumped up suddenly wide awake letting Hattie fall onto her stomach on top of the make shift bed of pillows. Timmy was-......Timmy was here! For her! So that meant he was-....Hattie shook her head and reached to push her giant top hat up off her face when she heard quick footsteps walking away from her, blinking she looked over and found Poppy briskly walking away from her towards the rising and falling platform leading from the attic and to the control room. She blinked and quickly jumped up and ran after her to catch up. Poppy was quick to reach the platform as it rose back up and stepped on it, Hattie right behind her quickly jumping on it too just a second before they began to lower into the much more brightly lit room. They could see everything from their spot on the platform, including the purple eyed boy who was sitting patiently at the control room's chair facing the control panel chatting with Bow about something but both looked up noticing the two coming down the platform and smiled.

"Well, well. Good morning, Miss Poppy,'' Timmy greeted from down below waving, "Sorry for the early visit but Moonjumper thought it was best I brought you as soon as I could to avoid suspicion from Snatcher, eh."

When the platform touched down, Poppy quickly got off it and began walking down the ramp towards him with Hattie behind her and Timmy stood up to meet her as she waltzed on over and stopped in front of him.

"Ya'll are...here to take me to Moonjumper?," he asked for clarification a lil bit of excitement coming over her at the prospect for answers.

Timmy nodded. "Yep. Thought you'd want to finally get some answers eh?"

She nodded. "YES! Pecking yes!"

"Oh good." He walked past her going towards the door leading towards the storage room. "Then we all better make our way over to Alpine Town then."

Poppy blinked and slowly followed after him with Hattie and Bow bounding up to walk next to him. "You're planning on using the Twilight Bell to get there?," she asked and he nodded.

"Yeah. I can't get there myself without Hazelle's magic and all of us have supernatural ties upon our souls. It should easily do the trick."

"What's this Twilight Bell?, " Poppy asked following following them still confused.

The door to the storage room opened with a whoosh sound and all three children walked on in throuh the hallway with Poppy going to crawl right after them.

"The Twilight Bell is this HUGE bell that's a part of the Alpine Goat City and can only be used by spirits or someone with really powerful connections to magic or spirits," Timmy explained, "Since all of you are bound to the purple noodle through contracts and I'm tied up with MJ, it should work for the whole lot of us."

"...You mean the bell teleports ya'll?"

"Sorta? It takes us to the Horizon. It's wear trapped spirits go and where I live. I think you'll like it. Not a lot going on but it's pretty peaceful and pretty majestic in it's own way."

The four of them walked(Poppy Crawled) into the storage room and instead of stopping they went over towards the ladder Poppy recognized from when they were cleaning as the ladder that lead to the boiler room. Hattie also mentioned that they stored her ships water supply in there. Without hesitation Timmy walked right up to it and grabbed the ladder, starting to climb up it in a swift manner similar to the two girls who went right after him. Poppy watched them disappear through the small kid sized doorway in the top wall there before she slowly began to follow after them. Half way up the ladder she heard what sounded like a loud thud and she rose a brow at that. At the very top, she crawled her way through the small opening and stopped upon seeing probably literally the only part of the spaceship she hadn't seen before. The area was certainly warmer than the storage room, and true to Hattie description. It WAS filled with lots and lots of water except for a small platform way on the other side lower than where she currently was and a GIANT boiler making a whirring sound as it worked with FLAMES peeking out from the open vents!! Timmy and Bow SOMEHOW got across the water and were waiting by the telescope which was pointing outta the windows also by the platform and Hattie pulled her trusty umbrella out of no where. Before Poppy could react something with the force of a hundred men grabbed her and she yelped when she suddenly found herself being held in the arms of the child awkwardly as Hattie aimed her umbrella at a metal beam above the water. The hook from the tip of the umbrella latching onto it with a metal clang. Poppy didn't have time to say a single word before Hattie jumped and swung them across the ship's water supply. The yelp that the startled woman gave almost caused the child to go unbalanced as she released them from the beam and towards the platform, Poppy instinctively latching onto her hat. Timmy and Bow watched as the two crashlanded on the small platform next to them. Poppy hitting her back against the wall and Hattie belly flopping with her hat over her face, Umbrella just barely missing falling into the water by some miracle.

"Dang pecking nabbit! Warn me next time ya decide ta do somethin' like that!," Poppy yelled from her sitting position, heart momentarily pumping from the sudden leap.

"Are you ok there?," Timmy asked pulling Hattie to her feet as she popped the hat off her head and blinking.

"Yeah. But I really don't like crashlandings." Poppy leaned off the wall and rubbed her back looking around the room. "Why did ya'll come in here?"

"To take you to the Alpine Alps." Timmy gestured to the lone telescope still pointed out the window and Poppy rose a brow at it as he walked back over to it. "This'll take us all straight to Alpine and from there to Moonjumper. We'll have to leave right now if none of us wanna get caught by Hazelle."

"More traveling with those umbrellas?"

"My magic's not strong enough to teleport me let alone all of us to Alpine all the way down there. I could barely teleport inside the ship from the moon. Unless you wanna wait for Snatcher or Hazelle to catch onto our plan and you never see Moonjumper, be my guest." Poppy said nothing and he nodded. "Then let's not waste anymore time yeah?"

Poppy stared at him a little longer before sighing and nodding. Well when he put it at that, he had a point. She certainly didn't think Snatcher would be very open to this idea. Not after what the girls had told her about what he thought about Moonjumper. And she certainly wasn't missing a chance for getting answers now, and what was one more umbrella ride since she's been sucking it up and using it to get too and from work for the past half week now. So with a sigh, Poppy pushed her self up to her knees and watched as Timmy grabbed Bow's hand as she held up her umbrella and walked over to the telescope. Taking Hattie's hand as she offered and shuffled over to the telescope after them, slamming her eyes shut when Hattie's iron like grip grabbed her hand like a pair of cuffs again. All she could feel after grabbing the little girl's hand was her death gripping her hard with almost inhuman life strength it almost hurt and the sudden lurch forward with the whoosh sound of two umbrellas opening and finally her body being lifted and pulled through the air like a kite. She didn't look the entire way there, just kept her eyes clamped shut the entire way. She would've loved to look upon the beautiful planet or the diamond stars as she passed but she was afraid she might relive the plummet into the swamp and didn't want to relive THAT near death experience again. So for now she would just hang on for the ride, it almost felt like forever just floating in air drifting like a peaceful kite, before suddenly she was whiplashed back and she gasped as she was suddenly suspended by nothing but her arms in the sky. Poppy's blue eyes snapped open and she suddenly blinked at the sight she was taking part in...and frankly almost lost her pecking mind. The first thing to hit them was the spine chilling limb numbing COLD!! It was like they suddenly got dumped in winter as the air blew wildly around them like a cold winter storm minus the snowflakes. The second thing she noticed was that they were IN. THE. MIDDLE. OF. THE. PECKING. SKY!!! In all directions was nothing but blue sky, greyish white clouds, and cold wind. She couldn't even see Bow or Timmy which is what made it worse for her. Did they get knocked out of the sky?! Were they blown away by the wind!? Were they still falling somewhere to their doom?! Her questions were answered soon enough. When she was about to ask Hattie(who was still gripping her with that strange alien strength) where they were, when something finally peeked through the clouds. Whatever it was was BIG and grey but still blocked by the giant clouds surrounding them as they got closer and closer to their destination being blown by the wind. Her red hair whipped around and she could barely see until they suddenly went down. Poppy gasped and a spike of fear went through her as they did thinking they would fall to her second death slamming her eyelids shut, but instead of falling through air Poppy soon found herself being put down on her knees on something she could only describe as cold bricks. Confused, those blue eyes popped open and they went wide at the sight in front of her. The wind was still blowing, making her shiver and sent a shudder down her spine from the brief flashback to the old clutches of the Vanessa incident before she quickly pushed it from her mind and wished she had a coat as her arms instinctively rubbed her arms. What stood before her was something else. What stood before her looked to be a mini mountain like structure jutting out somewhere in the middle of nowhere in the cold sky, the moutains was decorated with old forgotten torn flags with strange symbols unknown to her waving in the cold wind and a few small snowflakes made themselves present drifting into small piles here and there. It also looked like oddly big shaped ledges formed into a naturally formof stairs leading somewhere but her eyes weren't focused on the path right now. She was looking at the strange egg shaped like statues with goat horns surrounding them before stopping and staring at the MASSIVE two statues of Alpine Goats on either side of the path ahead on two seperate cliffs, almost like guardians from long ago. There was also some plants despite it being so cold, mostly small trees and bushes jutting out from random spots in the cliff but there was also some wild vines growing up the cliff sides here and there. A cough directed Poppy's attention to her left where Hattie had landed and was met with the sight of the other two children as well. THANK PECK they didn't get blown away from them.

''Welcome to the entrance to Apline Alps Ms. Poppy," Timmy said one hand on his hat to keep it from being blown away. "I hope the landing wasn't too rough on ya."

...She blinked shaking her head. "W-Wait. WHERE in tarnation are we?"

"Like I said the entrance to Alpine Alps." He then pointed up the pathway, the ride to Alpine Town is down that way a bit. It's best we get going before we can't yeah?"

She gladly agreed. If there was a town nearby then maybe she could find a shop or someplace warm to warm up a bit. Timmy nodded and turned to lead the way, running towards the stone ledges with the girls following and Poppy once the lady got up onto her feet. Well, she made it this far, might as well see it to it's end. And think. The answers her mind's been beating her over to get was so close to getting obtained. It was kinda tricky climbing up after the youngsters who jumped and ran up and over the ledges with ease, but it wasn't too hard thanks to her muscles from so much work in her youth, she was easily able to jump, grab onto a ledge if needed and pull herself up and over to as if doing pull ups. Guess she can scratch off mountain climbing off her 'Weird Things to Happen To Me After Coming Back To Life' list. When she finally reached the top, Poppy was exhausted and her hands and arms were cold and sore like she had been shoveling pounds of snow with her bare hands, but she stopped when she saw what was before her. Two torches with fire (in the middle of daylight no less) stood on either side of an archway that lead the way to a boarded bridge, said archway was decorated with colorful paper and a rope of holed stone was tied across it. Writing of a language she'd never seen before decorated a sign above it. When Timmy noticed her staring at it, he explained it was the Nomad language and said Welcome to the Alpine Mountain Range. Interesting. The three children ran across the old wooden bridge like it was nothing and Poppy hesitated a wee bit....Come on you scardy cat! You traveled from hundreds of miles from SPACE and the moon tons of times! She could handle walking across a bridge probably miles high off the ground too! Though it didn't ease the butterflies in her stomach, she slowly forced herself to cross trying NOT to think of the thosands of miles below her very feet and instead looking straight ahead. In front of her was some kind of wooden doors and a metal fence leading off to the left, next to the doors was a bell and as soon as the three children got near it Hattie pointed her umbrella, the hook shot out and latched onto said bell and she pulled. The bell rang out a few times and as soon as Poppy got near the thing, the doors automatically opened and they all ran through. Timmy pointing upwards as he did.

"C'mon, Poppy! The way's up there!"

Poppy looked up to where he was pointing and- OH. MY. PECKING GOSH!! A spiraling stone staircase spiraled upwards up another cliff which was bigger than the one she breifly climbed and the ones the two goat statues were on. Oh boy. Well..maybe all this exersize would help her clumsiness in her rehearsals. Sighing she turned her attention towards the start of the stairs and still shivering walked after them. Along the way upwards she noticed there was more of those weird horned, hallowed out, egg shaped statues, a few torches, and LOTS of moss covering the old steps. She tried looking around but saw nothing but more sky and clouds, and as she got to the top she noticed there was even more giant goat statues. When she got to the very top of the stairs however was when things got stranger. At the very top there was four what looked to be graves with SKULLS on top of them, more strange stone statues, a TALL stone piller between the four supposed graves, two GIANT stone cut structures that were purposefully carved to look like horns, and some wooden beams with red flags which waved in the wind which speaking of the wind it seemed to have picked up since they got there. How odd.

"What are those?," Poppy asked pointing a hand at the 'graves'.

"Oh those? Those are memorials to the four founders of Alpine Town, they were devoted to the Twilight Goat who first made their home here. Some say they found out the secrets of high end magic and ascended to the stars when he died," Timmy explained.

So they were kinda graves. She didn't wanna know if those skulls were carved stone or the real thing- A giant clap of thunder rung out as the ground beneath them all shook for a few seconds causing Poppy to fall to the cold stone ground as it did. The giant stone pillar in front of them sinking into the ground a little bit.

"WHAT THE PECK WAS THAT!?" Poppy wailed pushing herself back up and looking around wildly. "An earthquake!?"

Timmy shook his head no. "Nah. Hattie's just summoning one of the alpine skylines."

"The what?!"

She didn't get an answer as it happened again and she was knocked back onto her side again as the thunder clapped and the pillar lowered a little more too. Hattie ran past her over to the third lever sticking out of the ground and with her trusty umbrella started whacking it as it spun around like a screw into the ground and another clap of thunder and another shaking of the cliff knocking her over once the last level was buried into the ground. And Poppy was finally able to push herself up without having the fear of being knocked over. Something slithered forth from the white clouds before them and it took Poppy a moment through her moment of shock seeing the thing to realize it was a rope decorated with more of that colorful paper!! She watched in shock as it wrapped itself TIGHTLY around the stone pillar and stayed there, leading back off to the unknown through the clouds. As soon as it arrived Timmy and Bow stepped up to it, Timmy and Bow locking hands like before they teleported using the telescope, and Bow aimed her Umbrella at the rope. The hook from her umbrella shot out and caught onto it, and as soon as they did they were whiplashed off like someone had just grabbed them and yanked them away disappearing through the clouds. Poppy yelped in shock and ran over to the edge where they disappeared off from, staring at the clouds rolling past. Where the PECK did they just go?! Before she even knew or really processed what just happened at all, something like an iron trap grabbed her hand once again and another hook from Hattie's umbrella shot out and grabbed onto the rope. With a yelp she'll deny later, Poppy and Hattie were also shot forward. It was really similar to the sensations of when she was traveling with the girls to and from space, only this time she could see what was happening to her surroundings as she was once again pulled along by the little alien like a kite in the wind. Red hair whipped in every direction in front of her face and she had a quesy feeling in her stomach from all the pulling she was receiving now. Clouds. All she saw was clouds from her eyes squinting from the wind whipping her face, and the rope that never seemed to have an end as they flew. All she could hear was the whistling winds, claps of thunder from the clouds, and the distant sounds of bells-......Bells?! Wha- Another clap of thunder sounded out as they passed through the biggest cloud of all of them when FINALLY daylight broke through the other side and she could see something besides the clouds. And. Her. Jaw. DROPPED!! More cliffs. LOTS more cliffs. But all of them were MUCH MUCH more bigger than the few they had already climbed, making the ones they passed look like babies in comparison. As they zoomed by, they passed a pair of twin peaks standing side by side with more Alpine Goat Statues THAT WERE GINORMOUS!! Even bigger than the statues they had already seen! These were easily the sizes of a small castle EACH!! As they continued to zoom past those with the cold wind still seeping into her bones, There was yet ANOTHER set of twin peaks with more ginormous goat statues, and with each pair of goats statues there was a massive...rope?? And on said ropes was the BIGGEST golden bells she'd even seen. The giant things rang out from the winds pushing them and shined brightly from the sunlight. Poppy gazed up at them all in awe as they flew past. Well, that explains the distant sound of bells she heard. She was so in awe, it was unlike anything she had ever seen before! It was in a mystical way, beautiful! They were fast approuching the end of the rope's journey and Poppy looked around admiring the veiws. Was....Was that cliff spewing out LAVA!? It looked more like a volcano than a cliff!! And that one had some kind of giant structure on it. She wasn't sure what it was to be honest, but it was still so massive! She didn't see the end of the rope until there was a sudden whiplash and her body was sent forward shooting like a rocket, crashlanding into some green plants with a loud yelp!

"Oh no! Poppy!" Hattie quickly ran over to the red head as she pushed herself out of the roof of the small building she crashed into and coughed, spitting out leaves and shaking her head. "Are you ok?! Im sorry! I must've slipped! "

"Ah'm fine! *cough* I'm sorta used to this crashlanding bizz by now." She shook her head and finally got a chance to look around her. The way they came from was clouded by well clouds and she could barely see the back of the statues n cliffs they passed let alone the cliff they came here from. Looking around her she saw lots and LOTS of man made wooden platforms, houses with the roofs just covered in plants, more of those horned hollowed out egg statues, piles of firewood, bails of hay, and carvings of goats and paintings were plastered all over the available sights of what cliff she could see. Peck. Even the houses had strange carvings in them so details it must've taken someone a hundred years to even finish carving one of them. Odd ledges and stone stairs carved into the cliff sides to the right lead to farther up from the landing platform she crashed into....She blinked. "Where in the hey are we?"

"The town of Alpine Skylines." Poppy snapped over to her left and load and behold Timmy and Bow was just a few feet away from them all. He pointed up the roof she was still sitting on and over towards the path you HAD to climb said roof to get to. "The towns split into five different sections between all these cliffs here, you see. There's the Lava Cake Peaks, Bird House Peaks, Twilight Bell Path, Landing Peak, and Windmill Hills. Right now we're on Landing Peak where everyone who comes here first lands, yeah." poppy blinked and looked up towards the path he pointed at. Landing Peak huh? Well at least it made sense. She blinked again when Timmy suddenly jumped onto the roof next to her and began climbing his way up and towards the path. "There's four skylines leading to them, since we're heading home we need the green one that goes to Twilight Bell Path. Follow me!"

Poppy blinked but moved when both girls started to also climb up the roof and jump onto the path after him, once she set foot on the path and was able to meet up with them, Timmy gestured down the wooden platform path and she followed. The wooden path soon turned to giant stone steps befitting the giant Alpine Goats who lived there. Speaking of the residence they passed one or two goats on their way up, the goats shaking out their furred shelves every so oftten. And some Nomads. The smaller covered up residence of the peaks who lived in the smaller houses of the peaks. Poppy envied their heavy coats as she was still shivering from the cold air from being so far up and rubbing her arms following them. There was still everything she saw from her place back on the landing platform, only now she could get a good look at the other peaks. She could see how they got their names. Bird House Peaks had an actual LARGE bird house(or what she assumed was one since she couldn't guess what else it could've been). Lava Cake Peaks obviously had Lava. Landing Peaks was the center of the peaks leading towards them all. Windmill Hills had the BIGGEST windmill she had ever seen built into it!! As for the Twilight Bell Path- Poppy blinked and gawked at the HUGE silvery-green bell built upon the cliffs that was held up by more goat horn structures. So that was the twilight bell that would lead her to Moonjumper. Gotta say she was starting to find this easier than she originally thought it would be. She continued to follow the kids up, up, up until they finally stopped at this huge fancy carved house. She guessed it must've belonged to one of the goats since it looked too big to be a nomad's. Infront of the house was a giant wooden beam and from it a rope with green fancy paper decorating it lead from it towards the giant bell. Timmy pointed at it and Poppy understood it was the way to go. And so the same thing from before happened. Timmy took Bow's hand and they zoomed away towards the bell, and Poppy did the same again with Hattie. Before they took off though she noticed there was some very beautiful bright blue flowers shining brightly so much, the light made them look white. Poppy only remembered staring at the pretty thing before being yanked away towards the new path. This time the trip was MUCH shorter than the first one this time and she landed more decently on her knees when they reached the stone end, getting off and brushing her self off and looked as Timmy beckoned her down another stone ledge path which lead to more wooden bridged bewteen the peaks that lead to the bell. She could feel the anxiety and excitement grow within her stomach as they neared, but she came all the way here. It was too late to turn back now. Timmy lead them through an archway that he explained read The Twilight Path, so they were on the right track. Though the climbing she had to do against cold stone was NOT fun in the slightest. One Namad they past yelled out that the Twilight Bell was just ahead of them. Which was good since she was starting to feel sore from all this climbing anyways. Along the way she noticed there was stars and strange symbols painted on some of the cliff sides, as well as a few more of those really beautiful bright lit flowers. When she asked Timmy about the flowers he shrugged.

"Those are Twilight Flowers. They grow all along this section of peaks."

"Ah think they're beautiful. Wouldn't mind havin' some back home."

Twilight flowers huh? She'd never heard of those kinds of flowers before, but they were really beautiful to look at. Oh well. As they continued to climb, they FINALLY reached....Another green papered skyline.

"This is the last skyline before we reach the bell,'' Timmy explained before he was whisked off by Bow again.

Oh well that was good at least, her wrist was starting to get sore. So rinse and repeat yet a third time and Poppy was once again strung along, but this time she KNEW she was there. The last trip over felt like an eternity as she just fawned and awed over the large bell structure before her as they got closer and closer. Until finally she was there landing hard on her knees but she didn't care, she was too busy looking at the INSIDE of the thing! THIS BELL WAS HUGE!! PROBABLY BIGGER THAN THE GOLDEN ONES SHE SAW WHEN THEY FIRST CAME IN!! AND THE INSIDE LOOKED LIKE AN ENTIRE GALAXY ON IT'S OWN!! Black void painted the inside of it as beautiful diamonds sparkled brightly like stars. It was absolutely breath takingly pecking beautiful!! She still couldn't take her eyes off of it as she followed the children until they were all standing under it, giving her the best veiw of the inside. Unknownst to her, Timmy nodded to Hattie who nodded back and aimed her hook shot up at the bells lever. It grabbed onto it with a thump and away she went swinging back and forth on it like it was a playground swing. OH PECK!! The loud booming rings it made rang out and jabbed Poppy's ears and head with pain. Causing the woman to clamp her hands over her ears as Hattie continued to ring it and slam her eyes shut. Green flooded around the four, twisting the turning in every direction until they saw nothing and the surroundings COMPLETELY changed. ......Poppy SLOWLY opened her eyes and removed her hands when heard the ringing sto- She gasped and stumbled back onto her behind at the new sight.

"Welcome to The Horizon, Miss," Timmy said gesturing to the new world around them. "Or what I like to call it, home!"

IT WAS DARK!!....But somehow she was still able to see everything. She was surrounded by more strange statues but these instead of looking like regular statues, were a dark green-black that sparkled with somekind of otherworldly magic. Floating buildings of white marble statues with lots of pillars were EVERYWHERE she looked and someone of all things, some were leaking water. Water that went over the edge and down, down, down disappearing without a trace. There wasn't any visible source of sky, sun, moon, or stars. Just black void all around them besides the strange structures......Well when Snatcher mentioned some ghosts living on another plain of existance he wasn't kidding. In a strange way...it was all very beautiful and a sense of eerie calm came from it all.

..............She blinked and slowly pushed herself back to standing in her feet. "W-Where....Where are we?"

"I just told you. The Horizon." Timmy turned and gestured down a path leading off from where they popped up from, Moonjumper is probably waiting for us in the palace."

"The what?" Timmy pointed ahead and there was a big stone building just floating in mid air, it did quite resemble a palace in a topsy turvy way. Poppy blinked but slowly followed after the kids who showed no fear in this other world. As they walked she turned and suddenly gasped and stumbled back a few steps, pointing at something a little way from them. Big. Glowing. And MOVING!! "What the peck is that?!"

Timmy jumped at the sudden shout but looked to where she was and relaxed at the sight of the alpine goat ghost. "Oh that? That's just one of the ghosts that love 'round here."

"G-Ghosts!?"

He shrugged. "Why are you surprised? Snatcher's a ghost, and so is Moonjumper. There's just a few goats and a couple of Snatcher's old minions Moonjumper snatched up here. But they're all pretty harmless." they continued walking as he spoke. " They mostly just float around with they're little bells. There's nothing to worry about."

She hoped he was right about that. Poppy blinked seeing another familiar thing and pointed at it. "Would ya look at that? More flowers!"

"Oh yeah. The Twilight flowers and vines grow in this place too. No idea why, Moonjumper thinks they're magical or something. He likes to study magic sometimes if hazelle let's him borrow her books."

Just like Philip to study. "He....Sounds like a smart fella."

"He should be. People even wrote a song about him in legend."

"You're kiddin!" Philip? Having a legendary song named after him?

Timmy nodded. "Yep! You can ask Hattie to sing it for you. She knows the song pretty well."

Hattie smiled at the prospect of showing her superior knowledge about this place and what she could do. She didn't want to brag but after all she IS an expert in all things ghostly on this planet including the legend of the haunted forest and Moonjumper's tale. She still remembered when she first met the polite spirit when she first entered the Horizon going after one of her time pieces.

"Hello there little girl! Come wide, come far! I am the Moonjumper. Oh, yes. Indeed. I live and breath for this horizon, it's my home. Up here I can see everyone and everything. I am a silent.....observer. Ask me my child. What does my eye gaze upon? A girl in red? A village of the dead? A prize in a shed?.......N-Nevermind."

Hattie smiled again at the memory and like any little girl began dancing around as she sang. "Tale of a place! A deep forest dark with grace! There he lives blooming inside a wild field of big eye! And there he lives! Skin so blue! His eyes shot red! The Moon! The Sky! Tell him only lies! He doesn't know she waits inside! She lost her mind! Many years gone by!"

Poppy watched and listened at the little girl's funny singing. "What does that mean?"

"No idea!," hattie giggled out.

Timmy shrugged. "No one does. It's a mystery to everyone except maybe Moonjumper."

"Did someone call me?" They all froze at the sudden and distant echo-y voice that came from anywhere and everywhere. It seemed to echo more out into the void until slowly fading away and Poppy frantically swiveled her head around trying to see where it had come from. "Look upwards, my lady." Poppy did snap her head upwards and she let out a small gasp. Up way above floating just a few feet in the air above them was the ghost. He...still looked as sketchy and scary as he did back on the ship all that time ago and she couldn't help but take a few steps back when the ghosts floated down. He was even more weird looking than she remembered. The red markings on his face and those red eyes shining brightly against the dark void as he still lowered, eyes locked onto her as he desceneded and eventually stopped a few feet away. The only sounds from him was the eerie clanking of the chains still on his wrists as he stopped just beside Timmy who still smiled. A head pat was rewarded to the boy from the ghost. "I'm glad you all made it alright. Did you have a nice trip over? I know the journey isn't exactly easy."

Poppy blinked. So many thoughts from before but now her mind went blank at seeing the other spirit again. "Uh...Y-Yeah. I-It was alright."

"Splendid! Now." He clapped his hands together making the floating chains clack more. "Timmy told me you have some questions you wanted answered?"

Her mind came back to her as she blinked. "Uh YEAH! A whole bunch in fact!"

"Well lucky for you Im completely one million percent willing to answer each and everyone you may have." He turned and gestured her to follow him. "Come, come. It's rude if I didn't show you around my home." The children willingly followed when the spook started floating off down the path and after a moment she also started slowly stepping after them. The path contained the same thing they had already seen. Pure white stone marble buildings floating around, water falls disappearing down into nothing, and the occasional spirit who turned and fled the other way seeing Moonjumper. "Don't mind the residence. They do that with Hazelle and Timmy too."

"Right." Poppy rose a brow at the back of the ghost in mostly curiousity and a lil bit of suspicion. "So...Philip-"

"Moonjumper."

"What?"

"I'm afraid I no longer nor do I like going by my dead name. Please. Call me Moonjumper, or Moon if it's easier for you but please do not call Philip Snider." She shuddered. "That name brings back o-one too many bad memories I wish to forget."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that....Moonjumper?"

He waved a hand not looking at her. "That's quite alright. Now...You wanted to talk to me?"

She blinked..and she scowled. "Yeah! That's right! I got a few peckin' questions for ya'll!"

"I don't mind answering a bit, but I WILL insist you do not use that language in front of the children while you're here. I do not tolerate bad behavior."

"Right. So I can ya'll anything?," she asked crossing her arms.

He again waved a hand. "Ask to your heart's content, my dear.~"

"WHY THE HECK DID IT TAKE YA SO LONG TO TALK TA ME!?", her angry voice practically echoed loud throughout the entire void and the kids winced at the loud sound. Moonjumper seem unfased tho.

"Yes. I do apologize for that but I couldn't risk Snatcher finding out my presence otherwise he would've made sure I never had the chance to talk to you at all. You see I can only leave the Horizon when it's night on your world, but Snatcher is much more powerful than I am and would've sent me back quite easily. Wouldn't you agree that this is the safer route?"

Well that did make sense. Snatcher by what she knew and saw of him did have quite the temper on him that's for sure. "Ok. Then what about everything ya told me back on the dang ship!? Was that all real or ya'll jus' playin' with mah head?!"

"Firstly I would NEVER lie about myself. I find that self degrading. Secondly you are probably the last person I would lie to. Why ever would I lie about my oldest and dearest friend? Thirdly yes. Yes everything I told you was true." Moonjumper smirked in triumph and looked over his shoulder at her. "Every single bit of it was the truth."

"Explain it ta me!," She demanded.

His smirk widened. "I'd be glad to.~ Where would you like me to start?"

"The beginnin'!"

"Of course. How much do you know? I can start filling in holes if I know how much you know."

"I know you froze to death in the celler." Moonjumper stopped and as a result so did she and the children who blinked back confused as too why the adults did. Poppy stared at him for a few seconds and when he didn't respond inhaled and exhaled before continuing. "I know Vanessa killed ya both too when she locked ya down there, and I know she froze everythin' too. And it all happened a thousand years ago and you two..three??...Are all ghosts. And I-...I know she thought I was the one ya'll cheated on her with."

"WRONG!" She jumped at the sudden raise in tone and as Moonjumper snapped his head to her. "That is wrong. I had never EVER cheated on her with anyone ever! She may have thought I did but I certainly did NOT!!''

"O-Ok, ok! Ya didn't. She just thought we was a thing."

"Exactly. We never cheated on vanessa. I'll give Snatcher that much at least. He was always just as faithful til the very end."

"........Hey. I think you said ya'll were one in the same back on the ship right? Explain that ta me."

......He just shrugged. "There's not much to explain on that matter since I have no idea how we came to be. All I remember is waking up after we died in that DREADFUL cold prison cell and waking up here on the other side." He shivered and reached up to rub his arms chains clanking. "I will NEVER go back there even if it meant leaving this prison!"

"Still doesn't make much lick of sense ta me."

He looked her over for a moment before sighing and holding up his hands. "Alright. Allow me to tell you a story that will clear EVERYTHING up and help you catch up with recent events. Once upon a time a thousand years ago, there was two Kingdoms." He closed his hands behind his back again as he gave her a neutral look as he slowly started floating to her left. "The Kingdom of Subcon and the Kingdom of Subconette. The rulers of these kingdoms decided their children would get married and unite both these kingdoms in harmony. Their names were PRINCE Snider of Subconette and Princess Vanessa of Subcon. The princess was the most beautiful woman any where and the prince in my opinion was more better looking.~ But for some unknown reason the princess CRACKED!" He vanished behind her and Poppy had to turn her head the other way as he continued to slowly float in a circle around her. "She slowly descended into madness and became nothing but a controlling dictator that put me-..The prince through NOTHING but misery, and yet the prince still foolishly loved her and tried his best to make her happy! His only saving grace was when he had to leave for his studies and when he met YOU!!" Poppy blinked as he now smiled. "Poppy Rose Bloomington. A small time country girl who grew up on a farm and moved to town to sell her pretty flowers.~ Catching the eye of a prince with your understanding and very kind nature. Basically being everything to him that Vanessa wasn't or ever will be. But THEN." His smile turned back into a snarl. Like the kind of snarl Snatcher gave the Mafia Boss but she wasn't sure where his anger lied with now as he stopped in front of her. "Vanessa turned on me! Over nothing but a few measly flowers all for her!! After everything I sacrificed for her! All those years of pandering to every single one of her demands no matter how ridiculous and impossible they were! I gave her the best dam bloody years of my life and she repaid me for my loyalty and love to her by chaining myself in the dark abyss of the cellar and ending myself up trapped here for over a thousand years! Watching while others got to frollic free and Snatcher get to rein over our kingdoms!!" They. Were. Stunned. Not just her but the kids too. Even Timmy who lived her with Moonjumper seemed in shock from the sudden tantrum. But as soon as it came it left when he exhaled and leaned back holding up his hands. "F-Forgive me. My death...i-is a sensative topic. I just find it so unbareable when the old memories from how unfair it was was brought up....But that's the story mostly. I don't know how or why we ended up splitting on death but each of us are half of what made up our personality and thinking process." He held a hand to his chest. "I am, if I do say so myself, the much better half. The part with the actual manners and dignity and the proper way to actually behave. Meanwhile Snatcher is full of anger and resentment, stubborn an an Express Owl, gloomier than a graveyard, AND he lacks any empathy or positive qualities other than his own motives!!......I hope that answers your questions, my dear."

Poppy.........Still stared. Behind him both Bow and Hattie looked at each other...then they both looked at Timmy who blinked and shrugged with a just as confused face to their looks, before all three children looked back to him.

........She blinked again. "Uh....Yeeeaaaahhh." She wasn't exactly sure how or WHAT to respond with after that. Not that she was afraid. Just...taken aback. But then again she couldn't exactly blame the fella for feeling the way he does after a tramatic death like that. Peck. Even she has nightmares about Vanessa, and she didn't even interact with her for five minutes. She couldn't start to imagine how he could've spent years with someone as evil as that. "Right. Well...Thank ya for ....catchin' me up ta speed. I uh..Clears up a bunch of it actually....Except ah don't know why he didn't tell me this all sooner."

"Oh? You really haven't figured out that yet?" He tutted and rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Poppy. Let me ask YOU a question now. What would you have done knowing Snatcher makes deals with innocent souls who just stumbled into his forest unless they can very rarely defeat him or bargain their way out of eternal servitude and he harnesses all of their souls for his magic fuel?"

"AH ALREADY KNEW HE DID THAT DIRTY BUSINESS WHEN I-....Wait. Magic...fuel?"

He nodded smiling. "Magic fuel. Same goes for me.~ After all the more minions a ghost has the more powerful his magic is. I have a few loyal here to me as you obviously saw coming in. Now...the souls you use don't HAVE to be dead like you, but anyone loyalty of in Snatcher's case hundreds and counting. It makes him almost god like compared to someone like me or ...or HER. Of course he can't kill me. You can't kill someone twice...Uh.." He looked her over. "Or..in your case...Uh ahem or MY case at least, you can't 'kill' a ghost. But essentially coming back to the point. It matters not if your follwers are dead or living, what matters is their loyalty to YOU. Their devotion makes you powerful. I suspect he didn't want you finding that out for the same reason he refused to reveal his..or more like OUR identity and not tell you anything. He was either afraid or just annoyed at the consequences he would've had to face if you had been disgusted your old friend would do something like this."...His smile widened to that smirk again. "But since the owl's out of the bag now.~ He's going to have to deal with the fact that he LIED to you and deliberately kept the truth from you for so long because of a little fright ...I suspect you'll be having some second thoughts for our 'King' of the woods eh?~ Hmhmhm.~"

Snatcher KNEW!! SNATCHER HAD LIED TO HER!!......Well she already knew both of those things. She already knew he lied, and she already knew that he knew but hearing the words straight from his twin's mouth made. Her. PECKING. ANGRY. Angrier than when that yappity bird blamed her for the camera. Angrier when the Mafia was pushing around that poor old man. Angrier when Snatcher made her a babysitter against her own will(not that she was blaming or complaining about the lil tikes). This was a whole kind of next level of anger that she had never felt before even in her old life a thousand years ago!!! This was the anger of betrayel! the worst kind you could feel!! What did she do to EVER GET IN THIS MESS!? .....She had to stop herself and breath in when her vision went red. Now use throwing a tantrum in front of the person who at least answered all her questions so willingly and cleared everything up. There wasn't anymore holes or missing peices in this puzzle now and all the numb, butterflies, confusion had completely disappeared and she felt whole again knowing. Now there was still just one question on her mind that even Moonjumper couldn't answer. Why? And only Snatcher could answer that himself. Moonjumper said it was cuz he was scared or annoyed at the consequences but she wasn't too sure unless it came directly from his mouth. She was DEFINATELY to give the purple onion noodle one PECKING peice of her mind for sure!!

She nodded her head and looked to Moonjumper calmly. "Well. Ah sure do appreciate ya'll telling me all of this. Ah think I got what I needed. Thank you. But now.." She looked off back in the direction they came from with a scowl. "I got a few more questions ta git outta someone else."

He just nodded smiling. ''Im glad to have been so helpful to you. ...But there IS one more important thing you must know about.~"

She looked back to him with a raised brow. "And what is that?"

"This." He held up one of his hands and snapped his fingers. The sound echoing out eerily and Poppy flinched at the sound. After a few seconds a bright red string dropped from out of nowhere and stopped right beside his head.

She stared at it for a moment. "...What is that thing?"

"It's how I make contracts. You see Snatcher isn't the only one who can make those, the only difference is that the person HAS to willingly agree to sign the paper or he can't do anything...While MINE can be forced upon." His smile widened more. "And frankly I don't think he deserves someone as special as you!!"

His wrist that he still had held up suddenly went down in a slashing motion and in an instant the thing sprung to life on his command. Poppy yelped as it went straight towards her and on instinct brought her arm up to shield her face, the red string wrapped around her arm like a snake and proceeded to tighten like one Poppy was pulled forward by it and she yelped before digging her heels into the ground and pulling back, her otherhand clasping over the string. Moonjumper smiled and simply motioned his finger forward as it painfully tightened around her more.

"WHAT THE PECK DO YA THINK YER DOING?!," She angrily snarled at his smile.

"DAD!! What are you doing?!," Timmy asked just as horrified as the other two children. Obviously he wasn't expecting this to happen.

"Don't worry. They all fight at first but soon you'll forget any pain and be eternally happy." Moonjumper said in a reassurring voice. "Won't that be better? You'll never be in danger again, and be here with me."

"YOU'RE MORE CRAZY THAN SNATCHER!!" She stumbled forward a foot at a sudden yank, The red string glowing a bright red and her blue eyes widened at it.

"Don't worry. I promise it doesn't hur-"

At that very moment a giant burst of energy throbbed hard within the very core of her body. Temparaily knocking the wind outta her. Poppy gasped and fell to her hands and knees at the sudden tight feeling within her. Her body emitting a small purple light in the dead center of her chest and she stayed there gasping and blinking at the sudden sensation leaving goosebumps across the pale flesh and her shaking like a leaf again. Coughing and gasping for air like a drowning sailor, the red string absolutely disintagrated from the purple magic that glowed in a heart shape right in the middle of her chest. Moonjumper froze, staring at the woman on her hands and knees in absolute shock like the time he first saw her. Poppy's red hair went around framing her face as she coughed and faced the floor....Before slowly looking up through her bangs with the angriest more visious snarl on a mortal woman one could have.

"You can-...NO!" Moonjumper snarled back. "NO!! This can not be it! Y-You-....YOU DONT POSESS ANY MAGIC STRONG ENOUGH TO COUNTER MINE!! I-I-...THAT SHOULD'VE WORKED!!"

"Is THAT what that was?," she hissed out.

"How did you do that?! How you you have possibly have- No! Your will against it just must be stronger than the normal mortal!" He held both hands out and Poppy's face went back to panicked when near ten strings came from the dark and towards her. Timmy yelled at Moonjumper to stop but he either didn't notice him or didn't listen when Poppy was painfully suspended into the air. Most of the strings too tightly wrapped around her arms but some wrapped around her legs too and one around her neck, she cursed and struggled like a mad women being sent to the looney bin. Fighting and fighting before that still glowing purple heart sent out another energy burst and in an instant all the strings were destroyed. Leaving her to fall on the ground and start coughing and breathing again for air like a dying man. Moonjumper once again stood there stunned too shocked for words. Eyes going to the purple throbbing of her body....and suddenly absolutely fear wracked his face and form. "......N-No.....N-NONONONO!!!" His hands suddenly went over his mouth and he floated a few feet away. "N-No.." His red eyes snapped to her face when she weakly pushed it up. "Y-You signed it didn't you? Y-YOU SIGNED THAT CONTRACT WITH SNATCHER!?"

"W-What.." She wheezed and gasped a gulp of air while glaring at him with murder. " d-d-did ya p-peckin' expect?" Of course she signed a contract with Snatcher she he took her soul outta her body. Not like she had a choice there anyways....But she'd definately be having a talk about that with him too once her heart stopped ringing in her ears and her lungs evened out.

"T-Then that m-m-m-means t-that Snatcher's......"

"M O O N J U M P E R!!!"

It was the voice that shook the forest and sent everyone hiding. It was the voice that struck fear into every mortal and enemy ghost everywhere. The voice shook the very void and made every one-...Timmy, Hattie, Bow, Moonjumper, and any ghosts Moonjumper ruled over here stop in their peaceful home and turn to the terrifying scream that shook the dead down to the deepest hell and back again. Moonjumper whimpered like a pathetic dog. Kicked and looked ready to turn into nothing if it meant not dealing with that thing. Every ghost skidaddled and dove behind or through the marble stones for safety. Every goat ghost and dweller here. Which could only mean one thing.

The King Of Subcon....Had Arrived.

And. He. Was. ENRAGED!!

Poppy barely flinched from the sounds, the ringing in her ears making it hard to hear. She had just barely pushed herself up and around when a giant gust of wind whipped past her, making her red hair whipped wildly, and she could feel heat breifly fly by. As if someone lit a fire and swiftly threw it past her body. The dark shadow with the wind S L A M M E D into the horrified ghosts and it sent the two flying. Moonjumper found himself in the hands of the demon. The dark shadow was blacker than the abyss surrounding them, man of hair flared out crowding his face like a lion's mane, the fangs and eyes staring at him seeping with smoke and blue flames. A scream..No. Sound like the most hellish thing you could imagine screeched out from his mouth foaming with blue flames and smoke.

Moonjumper. SCREAMED!!

The three children stood there petrified at what just happed and watched from the ground as the thing that was Snatcher flew straight up into the air before literally throwing Moonjumper's form down behind the building and diving after him.

"POPPY!?" Hattie and Timmy jumped when Bow suddenly bolted over to the woman still laying on her stomach and brought her head up to look at the little girl kneeling in front of her. "Are you ok!?"

Two more appeared behind her. "Im so sorry, Miss! I didn't know any of this would happen!" Timmy looked almost ready to cry when he stopped in front of her looking at her. "I-I don't know what's gotten into them!"

"I-It aint...Y-yer fault."

"My, my. How do all of you get into trouble so easily?"

The children looked up and she slowly followed their gaze the best she could. "Hazelle!!"

The pink wearing witch tapped her foot and held a scowl as she stared down at the four..before turning to Timmy who looked even more scared under her gaze. "YOU are in BIG trouble! Ditching me and running away behind my back! What were you thinking?!..."She looked back up as a giant stream of blue flames shot out from somewhere behind the marble castle. "What were ANY of you THINKING!?"

...Timmy hiccuped and a small tear went down his face. "I didn't know! Im sorry, Hazelle!!"

...Her look didn't soften but she sighed and kneeled down next to Poppy. Her hands grabbing onto her shoulders and grunted as she pulled Poppy onto her back and then pulled her up slowly in a sitting posititon as she breathed. "Nevermind that now. Are you feeling ok?" She patted Poppy's cheek making the other woman look at her.

Poppy blinked seeing Hazelle's concerned face and nodded. "R-Real...w-winded and ...exhausted.."

"What happened?" She looked to the children for answers and Hattie spoke up.

"Moonjumper tried using his strings on her."

"HIS WHAT?!"

Hattie nodded. "But it didn't work. She signed Snatcher's contract."

".....So that's it. The powerful magics just overwhelmed you, you're going to be fine." Hazelle patted Poppy's shoulder before standing back up and sighing. Looking up as another screech sounded out. "Right. Kids. Stay here with Poppy ok? Im going to go break up the other two children fighting."

As she walked away, heels of her boots clacking, the three children looked at one another in worry. Not knowing what to think. Moonjumper on the other hand had a LOT going on through his mind at the moment, especially when he was slammed again with incredible strength in Snatcher's claws. The subcon ruler becoming frustrated when Moonjumper kept dodging his flames. The horrified face of the moon boy stared with fear when Snatcher charged him again, sharp claws out and aiming right for him- Until he was stopped when a bright red string wrapped itself tightly around his tail and stopped him mid dive. The beast snarled like a monster and turned on the red string in rage before another snagged around top half. And then more. And more. And more. .....AND MORE!! Until his entire body was red and thrashing within a cocoon made from hundred and hundred of Moonjumper's threads like a fly trapped within a spider's web. Enraged, the screeching and thrashing increased like he was a worm from hell. He was solely focused on Moonjumper for what he had done. He had felt something was wrong when Poppy the contract's magic alerted him to danger. But when he had instantly teleported into the ship he found no one. He made sure to thoroughly look in each room on the ship before bumping back into Hazelle who just magically dropped in with her weird pet in the middle of his worrying and the two locked eyes.

"YOU?!," he asked blinking at her.

She seemed confused. "Yes...Me. What are you doing here?"

He instantly scowled. "I could ask YOU the same thing, Witch!"

"Uh huh." She looked towards the doorway leading towards the girl's bedroom. "I'm looking for Timmy." She looked back to him with her own frown. "He ran off during one of our lessons and I looked all over for him all day so I've been having Shifty here follow his aura until we got to the moon train. I figured the only other place he could've gone is here with your kiddos."

"Well it looks like we're BOTH fooled!!" He hissed out with a glare crossing his arms. "There's no one here either!"

She hummed and rose a brow. "That is strange. Perhaps Timmy wanted a play date out with them, but why didn't he tell me??....It's not like him at all."

"MISStresS." The Shapeshifter gurgled out in that strangled voice of their's as the strange creature wobbled about slinking towards the door that lead to the storage room of the ship. Getting Hazelle's full attention. "i SeNsE THE bOY's AURa THaT way. FAINT buT TheRe."

It gurgled before crawling towards said door that opened with a whoosh sound and crawled down the hallway. Both of them looked at each other before Hazelle teleported to the other side of the wall and Snatcher's fazed through it. Both watched as Shapeshifter flopped itself to the next level of the floor before crawling towards the ladder that lead to the boiler room and hissed looking upwards.

"hE WENT Up."

"Impossible." Snatcher muttered. "There's nothing in there but water! You're blood hound's as useless as a statue!!"

"Well it's not a coincidence that my boy and YOUR girls are missing as well as that Poppy girl. You can't say we don't have an idea about where they went!"

"Oh please! Why in the PECK would they go in a room filled with water and a measly telescope!?"

Hazelle perked up at that. "A telescope? Don't they use those things to teleport places?"

Snatcher instantly shut up......OF COURSE!! He wanted to smack himself in that moment, but instead he shot himself through the wall into the boiler room and popped out the other side. Rushing up to the telescope and peeping one of those bright yellow eyes through the peep hole to see where it was pointed at on the planet. Hazelle popped a moment later magically teleporting beside him and saw him looking through it.

"Well? Where does this one lead?," she asked him and he looked up.

"Some place in the mountains with lots of clouds." He seemed confused. What kind of place was that to run off too?

Hazelle seemed to get a look of quick realization. "...Oh no."

"Oh no?" Instantly SNatcher was on her scowling. "What do you mean OH NO?!"

"Well, if Im not wrong, that's the long way home for Timmy before I got used to teleporting him everywhere....And Timmy lives in the Horizon."

With Moonjumper!? A shot of panic and rage overcame him at the very thought of Moonboy being all nice and barf romantic over her!! THAT FOOL HAD DONE SOMETHING!! But he wasn't sure what it was or how he was involved in this, but he WAS going to get there and find out! Hazelle offered to teleport them there since it'd be much quiker than taking the Twilight Bell and she was used to making big teleportation jumps with her advanced power. He instantly agreed and after Hazelle ordered Shifter to stay there(in case they came back) she teleported with him holding her shoulders. Once there he had to admit he was a little dizzy, it took a lot to make him feel a bit dizzy so Hazelle must've used a giant burst of magic to get them....Whereever they were real fast. It was almost too fast. But the dizzy feeling was short lived. He felt the second wave of the binding contact protecting Poppy from something and weird place or not, he took off in the direction of it much to Hazelle's protests and yells. If he had a heart it'd be beating a million times a minute as for one rare moment in his after life....He was scared. He knew his magic would be strong enough to counteract Moonjumper's but there was still the lingering fear of her becoming another lost trapped soul trapped her by him somehow. Or what else Moonjumper would do to her?! He lost her once, he didn't want to lose her again!! He couldn't!! Not after he made so much progress in finding her and getting her back!! But his fears were confirmed true when he find them.

Poppy was there...On the ground...She looked so weak. It was like the ghost smacked into a wall with how sudden he stopped seeing her. It was unmistakingly her!! The Purple magic from her soul was his alright and still calling out to him!! Poppy was laying on the ground weakly pulling her head up towards Moonjumper who looked angry and was snarling at her.

Something within him at that very moment SNAPPED!!

It was like the world around him began to blur and spin and the only two figures in his mind was the girl laying on the ground and the snarling person above her. .....What had be done? Poppy was.....hurt? Very possible. Moonjumper did something to Poppy...No. HE did something to Poppy. Moonjumper was a part of him!! A part of him that let Poppy get hurt once again! From that moment something began to bubble up inside of him and poor out in waves. HE HURT HER!! He let her get hurt!! After what already happened to her because of his mistakes!! HOW DARE HE LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!! EVEN IF IT WAS JUST A PART OF HIM MOONJUMPER SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO TOUCH THE WOMAN HE LOVED!! Fangs sprout. Claws sharpened. The flames of vengence and pain seeping out. And a cry of pain coming out of him. The only things he felt was sorrow and rage!!

The hunter had found his prey.

"M O O N J U M P E R!!!"

The smell of burning ashes and smoke filled the air as the red strings around the thrashing and snarling beast turned black and with an even louder screech the thing broke loose in an explosion of blue flames Moonjumper had to shield his eyes from. But when he opened them, they widened at the snarling charging claws and fangs covered in fire about to claw him. ...Before a loud smacking sound was heard and Snatcher slammed into an invisible wall blocking him off from the frozen Moonjumper. Enraged his prey wasn't in his claws the mindless beast kept clawing at the invisible shield attempting to seize it's prey within it's protective hold.

"SNATCHER!!" The snarling beast snapped it's head in the direction of the voice and coppery orange eyes glared up at him. "SNAP OUT OF IT!! POPPY NEEDS YOU RIGHT NOW AND YOU'RE ACTING LIKE A RABBID DOG!!" The beast screeched in the woman's direction where she stood ontop of one of the many white marbled blocks. She swiftly moved her arm in a cutting motion and something invisible punch Snatcher right across the face HARD. "GET A PECKING GRIP ON YOURSELF YOU IDIOT!!!"

Snatcher froze. Slowly the rage from his mind with the flames and smoke in it started to uncloud and he found his world twirling back into sights and sounds of a normal person. He found Moonjumper looking at him with anger now, a lot like his anger. But not DARING to make a move towards him. He found Hazelle standing on top of the block too, looking even more angrier than Moonjumper.

"MAYBE NOW YOU'LL LISTEN TO ME!!" She screamed at him at the top of her lungs before pointing back in the direction of Poppy. "YOUR KIDS ARE SCARED!! POPPY'S EXHAUSTED FROM THE AMOUNT OF POWERFUL MAGIC FROM BOTH OF YOU IDIOTS GOING THROUGH HER!! YOU NEED TO TAKE THEM HOME RIGHT NOW AND TAKE CARE OF THEM!!" Her glare suddenly snapped to Moonjumper. "AND YOU!? WHAT THE PECK WERE YOU EVEN THINKING?! HOW DARE YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!" At the questiosn towards Moonjumper Snatcher looked back to him and snarled, claws balling into tight fists. "SNATCHER. DONT. YOU. DARE!! ILL TAKE CARE OF HIM!! GO TAKE CARE OF YOUR FAMILY!! NOW!!"

Snatcher still glared at Moonjumper for a few seconds, the claws still sharp. But Poppy was more important than this fool. The shadow turned and shot away, leaving Hazelle to do the picking up after him. The mane of his neck still bunched up but most of it toned down til it was just bristled like when he was usually irritated. The claws retracting on their own. Shooting through walls and walls of white marble until he finally got to the four of them. They all jumped in surprise save for Poppy who was so tired she felt like she was going to pass out any moment. Timmy looked away in shame as the tall shadow approuched and for a moment Snacther regarded the young boy for the crimes comitted tonight.

".......Hazelle's going to have a talk with you."

That was it. No threats to him from the older ghost, just a warning on what his mum figure was going to do once she got done chewing out Moonboy. Without anything to say Timmy just nodded to the older ghosts before he came to the girls and an instant frown adorned his face. the two girls were clutched onto the barely awake woman looking at him scared and not sure what to do about the situation. ...This was all his fault. He silently gathered the trio up in his arms, both girls immediately clutching onto his fluffy neck like he was going to leave them somewhere and Poppy in his arms blinking up to the one holding her as he teleported. The dark purple surrounding her as they did. He only told her one thing too.

"Rest."

Which she gladly did closing her eyes and letting her body go limp.

#Snatcher

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geartime · 4 years

Text

Rough Draft Chapter 1: A New AU

-Ink's pov

‘Things have been pretty slow lately. Error has been quiet, all the universes are fine, and there haven’t been any NEW AU’s in the making for m…’

Suddenly, I got the magnificent sensation of an AU starting out its first sketches. I immediately teleported to the source and got to work. However, as I worked I began to realize how small this universe was.

It was a tranquil universe, nothing but trees, grass, and flowers of every kind. A stream cut through it, glistening like fresh snow. Rather than being out in the open, the place seemed to be surrounded by sheer cliffs, surely impassable without the right skills and tools. The only major change in the cliffs was a single cave, and inside, the source of the stream. A gorgeous waterfall that sparkled like a million stars in the night sky. Echo flowers grew in an abundance her in the cave, each one waiting patiently to hear a passing conversation.

As I finished the final brush strokes of the land, I looked around and admired our work until I noticed something. While I was carried away working on the landscape, they had already started on creating the first inhabitant of the world. They appeared to by in a sitting position, relaxed and waiting to take in the sites of the land upon being brought to life. There head, was just a head at the time, no face or anything to hint at who they were, except for the bones.

As they continued working I never bothered to help, they were confident with every stroke and line they made. They appeared to be a Sans, but the cloths were rather interesting, simple, yet still interesting, and creative. They wore green boots with faded blue and yellow straps that crossed each other. They also wore a skirt that matched the color of one of the straps and the shirt matched the other. Over their shirt they were wearing sleeves that trailed behind them, kind of a marigold in color.

Eventually, they added brown finger less gloves to their hands, the right one slightly longer than the left. Then, almost as if it were a last thought, they added a gorgeous green scarf that was tied to the left. And to top it off, a star pendant were the scarf was tied. And then, they started on the face, which was a bit of a let down, for they had chosen to have the eyes clothes as if they knew I was there waiting in anticipation. To top it all off, they added green goggles to their head.

It was beautiful. I sat there, waiting, knowing that it was only a matter of time before they woke up. I suddenly realized that it would be best if I hid myself so as to not startle them once they woke up. Seeing a nearby tree I went over to it and started climbing, making sure to pull my scarf up so it didn’t dangle below the branches were it could be seen.

I began to doodle as I was waiting in the tree, occasionally looking down to check if they had woken up yet. At one point I noticed something different about them. This helped to explain why they hadn’t woken up yet, the creator of this AU wasn’t quite done. There was now a giant pencil on there back. Strange, it was the same size as my paintbrush.

Their eyes suddenly snapped open, and that's when it started.

-??? Pov

“W-what? Wh-where am, AHHHHHH!”

My mind was suddenly screaming with voices. I grabbed my head as it throbbed in pain.

“I can’t think of anything.”

“I’m no good.”

“I give up, my AU will never get noticed without a story.”

“Wait, what? What’s an AU? And don’t say that, I’m sure you all can come up with great stories.”

“Um, hi there.”

I suddenly plummet back to earth as I realize I’m not the only one here. To make things more interesting, I decided to look up very slowly so as to take it all in slowly and not rush myself.

“Hi. Now be quiet and give me a seck.”

First thing I notice is the shoes, brown sneakers with tiger print. A little higher and I notice light brown shorts on top of darker brown leggings with blue stripes. I then notice a light blue hoodie tied around their waist. They have their hands down to their side as I notice they are wearing brown finger less gloves. I also noticed what seemed to be the ends of a rather long scarf that started out a light cream color and gradually became a light brown. On top of that, I could see the bristles of what appeared to be a giant paint brush? Interesting. On his arms, I am not sure, but it resembles the leggings they're wearing.

I now venture back to the center and notice a belt going across from their right shoulder to the left of their hip. On the belt there were little vials of various colors with little hearts for the caps. They also appeared to be wearing a darker, kind of faded brown sleeveless, jacket, I suppose. I am not entirely sure what to call it. Anyway, under that they had a kind of cream colored short sleeved shirt. I know also notice they are wearing suspenders, brown in color with golden clasps.

I then finally moved on to their face. I had no words.

They looked at me with curiosity, a smirk on their face. I am now beginning to think they are male, but I would hate to make any assumptions. The main thing that stood out about their face was their eyes. The left one was a yellow star, sparkling with excitement. The other eye was a simple blue circle. One thing I found rather interesting was that on their left cheek was a splatter of, ink?

“Can I talk now?”

He asked me, I decided they were male because of their voice, but I wasn’t planning on revealing that I believed they were male until I knew for sure. I didn’t plan on being someone to assume something without solid confirmation.

“Ya, sure.”

“Hi. My name’s Ink, Ink sans.”

He then held his hand out to me. I looked at it, and then back to him. Unsure if I could fully trust him. I remained hesitant. His smile slowly shrunk as he watched me. Not wanting to assume the worst, or disappoint him, I reached out and finally took it, his smile coming back

“H-Hi Ink. I-I’m not entirely sure what m-my name is quite yet.”

“Don’t worry, I understand. You were only just created after all. It will come to you in time.”

I began to think, but that just brought the voices back.

“Gahhh, why are you all so loud.”

I rested my head on my knees and held my hands to my head, slowly rocking back and forth. The voices seemed to scream negativity as they shot down their own ideas left and right. I felt terrible with every good idea that faded. I desperately wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do.

“What do you mean? Is everything alright?”

I looked up to see Ink looking at me with a concerned look on his face. As I focused on his face the voices slowly quieted down.

“I don’t know, I’m just hearing a ton of voices in my head. They keep saying that their stories aren’t good enough and that their “AU’s” will never get noticed.”

“HOLY COW, YOU’RE HEARING THE CREATORS! I-I can’t believe this! I-I think I. O-Oh no.”

Suddenly, Ink opened his mouth as a black substance came spewing out like a high pressure hose. Rather than being grossed out, I was actually kind of amused.

‘What an interesting quirk’

“Erk. S-sorry, I tend to do that when I get to excited, hehe. Eh.”

“It’s okay, I actually find it interesting.”

I warmly smiled at him, tilting my head to the side just slightly. He perked up at this, surprised by my response.

“Really!?”

“Ya.”

Suddenly, something popped into my head, a voice. It stood out from the rest so I tried extra hard to listen. Although it gave me a headache doing so, I didn’t care. This voice called to me. It felt important and in some way, familiar.

“Draft.”

“Draft?”

I repeated the word out loud, trying to get a feel for it.

“What did you say?”

“Draft.”

“Draft. Draft? You mean like a rough draft you make to give yourself an idea of what you want a story to be but without the details, so you can add them later as they come to you?”

“Ya, I suppose so?”

I then decided to look at my own clothes, I loved them! I notice a giant pencil on my back and take it off, trying it out. At first glance you'd think it was heavy but it was actually nicely balanced, almost as if this weren’t my first time holding it.

“DRAFT!”

My eyes light up with excitement as the star on my scarf seemed to glow with my enthusiasm. Questions burst through my mind. What is my purpose? Why Draft? Why do I have a giant pencil? Why is Ink here in the first place? I didn’t care however. I would find out the answers to my questions eventually. Right now, I just wanted to live in the moment. I twirled around, my sleeves and skirt flowing around me as I did so.

“MY NAME IS DRAFT SANS! I LOVE IT!”

______________________ Next>

Draft by me Ink by @comyet

Enjoy!

#old #old art #old writing #my writing #fan fic #fan fiction #Ink #draft #draft sans #my character #my art #art #undertale #undertale au #alternate universe #chapter 1

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seth-storm · 4 years

Text

Leaving the Pond

Part Two: Curiosity Killed the Dragon

Author’s Note:

Hope you enjoy the second chapter of this adventure! If you want me to keep writing it please let me know, and let me know if you like the story so far!

Patton woke early the next morning, looking out his window to look at the magical creatures in the yard. While most creatures were forbidden from entering the yard due to a treaty meant to protect those residing in the house, plenty of fairies buzzed around the flowers and birdbath in the garden outside. They hovered by the flowers, making them bloom, and looked at their reflections in the water for hours on end. Fairies were vain creatures who didn't care for anyone but themselves, but Patton could always relate. He looked in the mirror, brushing his hair with a goofy grin on his face. After all, he did look pretty handsome. Gathering up a few items he deemed important (such as a compass, a map, some snacks, and a joke book) and stuffing them into a backpack, he stepped outside. He often paused to think of his status as Fairystruck when he left the house and saw the fairies look up at him and flit away. Due to a previous shenanigan that had almost gotten him killed, he had been blessed by the Fairy Queen. Aside from being able to read, comprehend, and speak fairy languages, Patton could also see mythical creatures without having to consume the enchanted milk of the massive 10 story tall cow named Viola residing in the barn. Holy cow, his life really was weird! To any "sane" person, Patton probably sounded insane. And honestly, he probably was. But what fun is life if you have to live it while being perfectly sane?! The most successful people in history were a little eccentric, and Patton wasn't about to allow himself to be the exception.

While Patton had never visited the Fairy Queen's shrine on the preserve, it was supposedly in the field that was now his destination. To his knowledge, it was on a relatively traveled path in the dense woods to the left of the manor he stayed in. In the opposite direction from the Forgotten Chapel, where he could swear he could still see dark clouds lingering. How could he ever adventure in that direction again and not see himself as a child playing on the now withered lawn in front of it, or as a teen referring to it as "home base" whenever he went exploring, or as an adult running away from it and leaving behind so many fond memories with a rotting husk staring back at him from the master bedroom window? Thankfully, he didn't have to today. Where he was going was supposed to be a place of light.

Patton reached the edge of the massive, neatly trimmed yard. Looking at the line where the light green grass ended and the dark green foiling of the forest began, he took a deep breath and stepped over it, careful not to step on it.

"Step on the border, come home with a broken shoulder." He smiled, repeating the old nursery rhyme his uncle had taught him. A childish superstition, sure, but Patton would need all the luck and superstition he could get. As per the protective Treaty that limited what could come in the yard, once Patton left he forfeited all the safety or protection he could call his. Normally it didn't work that way. Usually, a person who had caused no mischief and had harmed no creatures could expect plenty of protection under the Treaty, including the guarantee that if they had killed no creature, no creature could kill them. Torture them horribly sure, but not kill them. This Treaty had protected caretakers for centuries, and would in the centuries to come.

But Patton, slayer of dragons, had definitely broken all of the rules already.

Patton set off across paths magical creatures tread often, but he tread more. He loved to explore, and had gone to locations far beyond where he was going today. Why he hadn't gone to the pond was merely because before today his curiosity hadn't beckoned him to do so. He'd been to all corners of the preserve, including the grove of the revenant he suspected to guard Fablehaven's artifact, but never to the pond. But that was to change today!

After winding through faint paths he'd never walked before, undergrowth crunching beneath his worn boots, he finally arrived at a tall, unruly hedge. It was at least ten meters tall, and stretched out a long ways to his left and right. This should be where the pond was. Patton assumed the hedge was a barrier of sorts. Therefore, he assumed there was probably an entrance if he walked in one direction long enough. So he set off to his right. Ironically, the entrance would have been visible if he had gone mere meters to his left, so he ended up walking in a giant circle around a very unyielding hedge. "I can't be-leaf my luck." Patton scowled, looking at the entrance, which was very much in view of the path he had started on, "Just a little to the left and I would have been golden!"

As soon as he walked into the entrance of the hedge, however, his playful skepticism was replaced by wonder. Through of the massive (and much more neatly trimmed on the inside) hedge was a field of grass with a pond in the center. The pond was lined by a boardwalk laced with pearly gazebos, which seemed to reflect the sunlight coming off of the pond. Nymphs and dryads played on the grass, their tall and elegant figures made of flowers, vines, rocks, and twigs. There were also several fairies, a few dwarves, and some satyrs (although the goat men seemed perfectly content to chase the dryads around the pond). Patton watched the playful games of tag going on between the satyrs and the dryads and for a brief moment a frown lined his features. He had too much experience with dryads in the past...

Did something in the pond just move? Well of course something in the pond moved, the water was moving the entire time! No, Patton thought he saw something else move in the pond, though he couldn't quite be sure. So, being perfectly careful, he walked right towards the perceived threat with a smile on his face. "Hello? Is someone there? Or was that just seaweed?"

Patton frowned. Well if it was seaweed it was hardly going to respond. A few satyrs watched him, laughing. He began to feel very foolish, preparing to turn around when a face broke the surface of the water. He had hair the color of the water, and hazel eyes. He looked ethereal, otherworldly, and mystical. Patton was intrigued. "Hello." He waved happily, smiling.

The figure said nothing, instead beckoning him closer to the water, as if he was going to tell Patton a secret. Patton obliged, walking closer to the water and beginning to bend down.

"Hey dude! Do you have a death wish?" A redheaded satyr frowned, coming up to Patton. Patton paused, just out of the reach of the figure in the water.

"Talking to him!" Patton said, pointing at the person in the water.

"Oh you'll talk to him alright." Another satyr, this one with darker brown fur, sauntered up beside the redhead. "At the bottom of the lake."

"What do you mean?" Patton frowned, standing up.

"That's a naiad!" The redhead exclaimed. "They exist only to drown people for sport! Aren't you supposed to run this place?"

"Oh." Patton looked back at the water, where a circular ripple shook the water where the figure used to be. He was already gone.

"You're welcome." The brown furred one chuckled. "The name's Doren. This here is Newel. Nice to meet you."

Patton stared at the water a moment longer before smiling at the two satyrs. "The name's Patton. Patton Sanders. Nice to meet you!"

Logan stared up at the figure above the pond. He was so close to having drowned a victim! Emile would have been proud. He should have given up and swam back to the depths. But he didn't. He looked at the human a moment longer, fascinated by the land plodder whose life was so insignificant.

The bubbly voice floated through the water from another world. "The name's Patton. Patton Sanders. Nice to meet you!"

"My name is Logan." The naiad whispered in a trance. "Pleasure."

Patton, of course, didn't hear him.

Taglist:

@flyingturtlecat @stop-it-anxiety

#Leaving the Pond #sanders sides #fablehaven au #fablehaven #logan #patton #naiad #tw drowning #sanders sides au #fan fic #eventual logicality

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bee-kathony · 6 years

Text

The Holiday | Surprises

Thanks @jules-fraser for this cute moodboard!

Chapter 1: Home Exchange | Chapter 2: Unexpected | Chapter 3: Connections | Chapter 4: Plans

Chapter 5: Surprises

CLAIRE BEAUCHAMP

Jamie and I had decided to take a few days to ourselves. He needed to fit in a bit of work before Christmas, I didn’t want to be apart from him. Not even for a day. How had this even happened? I’d only met him a few days ago but already I was betraying my own words. I promised I wouldn’t fall in love with him.

Well, you failed at that, Beauchamp.

Sitting around in Jenny’s living room, I felt absolutely pitiful. Every time I tried to read, my mind drifted to Jamie and what he was doing. Every time I tried to watch TV, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about me.

I looked at the clock on the wall, it was only 7pm, surely he wouldn’t be working this late at night. Maybe I should just pop over and say hi…

Before I had time to think about what I was actually doing, I found myself standing outside Jamie’s door. He had told me his address, Lallybroch and it wasn’t hard to miss. Christmas lights covered every window and the snow on the ground made it seem straight out of a book.

I knocked on the door and waited.

“Surprise!” I smiled as Jamie opened the door, his eyes almost bulged out of his head.

“Aye, it is, Sassenach.” I could hear the sounds of plates clinking together and noticed how he was standing with his body in the doorway, making it impossible to see inside.

“Oh, you have company? I shouldn’t have come.” Looking down at my feet, I avoided his gaze, heat flashing up my neck.

“No, Claire it’s —“

“Who is it daddy?” There was a small brown haired girl that appeared out of nowhere and clutched onto Jamie’s leg.

“Daddy?” Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

“Aye, I am… daddy.” Jamie looked down at his daughter and then back up to me, his shoulder slumping. He was a father, it all explained so much and yet.

“Claire, this is Faith.” His face lit up and he stroked the top of her head.

Another sound of two little feet and the door opened wider to reveal another little girl with blazing red hair, “Wanna come in?” She asked.

“My youngest, Brianna.” Jamie sheepishly smiled.

Oh. The names I had seen on his phone from our first two nights together. They weren’t other women he was hooking up with, they were his daughters. A weight lifted off my shoulders that I didn’t know I was carrying.

“Daddy!” Bree tugged on Jamie’s pant leg.

“Oh yes, come in, Sassenach.”

He held the door as I walked in, my eyes roaming quickly over the interior of his home. It was warm and welcoming. The kind of home I could see myself in.

The girls ran off, assuming towards the kitchen as they started shouting “Hot Chocolate!”

I grabbed Jamie’s arm, “Are you married, Jamie?”

He shook his head, “No. Widower. Two years ago, she was sick.”

“Oh, Jamie… I’m sorry.” I pulled him into a hug, his arms wrapped around my back.

More shouts demanding hot chocolate came from the kitchen and Jamie pulled back, taking my hand and led me into the kitchen. “Hope ye like hot chocolate.”

“Love it.”

I sat down on the kitchen bench as Jamie set a steaming cup of hot chocolate down in front of me. “This looks delicious, thank you.”

“Da, she has more marshmallows than me!” Bree pointed her finger at her sister’s cup.

“No, she has five, just like you Bree. Dinna go makin’ up lies.” It was so different to see Jamie in ‘Dad mode’. He was always gentle and kind but to see him with his children, it was heartwarming.

Faith crawled up into Jamie’s lap and settled her little bum against him. “Da, do Mr. Napkin Head.”

“Yes, Da please do Mr. Napkin Head!” Bree echoed her sister.

Jamie looked at me, a deep red covering his cheeks. I smiled and said, “Please Jamie?” For encouragement.

“Aye, I’ll do it, only because we have a guest.” He winked, kind of, at me and I watched as he picked up the cloth napkin and his glasses from the table. Jamie laid the napkin over his face, set his glasses on his nose and then stuck a spoon in his mouth. Both of the girls lost it, falling into fits of giggles.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Napkin Head!” He shouted which made me burst into giggles along with them. “Who is that pretty lass over there?” He pointed to me, I knew he couldn’t possibly see me through the napkin.

“That’s a Sassenach, Da.” Faith said, smiling as she looked up lovingly at Jamie.

“Och, a Sassenach? Who let her in?” He joked.

“You did, Da!” Bree laughed.

“Aye, I suppose I did.” He laughed and then took off the glasses and napkins, Bree and Faith started clapping and I joined in.

“Very good, Jamie.” I smiled, making him blush even more.

“Claire,” Bree said to me, “We have a tent in our playroom. Would you like to see it?”

“Well of course I would.”

The girls held my hands as they led me up the stairs and into their playroom. “This is so impressive.” And it was. A tent had been set up in the middle of the room, equipped with fairy lights and paper stars hanging inside.

“Did you do this?” I asked Jamie.

“Aye, only helped a little.”

I followed the girls into the tent and laid down, Jamie followed behind me and laid beside me. Bree and Faith lay on either side of us. I felt Jamie’s hand reach for mine and I took it.

“Claire, if you wanted to sleep over that would be alright, we could push our beds together.” Faith said, her little voice warming my heart.

“Thank you very much for the offer but maybe another time?”

“Alright.” I heard her sigh and felt Jamie turn his head to look at her. I could’ve sworn I heard him say “good job” but maybe I was mistaken.

We all lay in the tent, looking up at the paper stars covered in glitter. Jamie was a father. When we first met he had told me he always hurts the people he’s with simply by being himself. Perhaps he had tried to date before but at the mention of kids, they ran away.

Once Jamie saw that the girls were tucked into their beds, he came to find me. I stood in his study, admiring the collection of books on his shelves.

“I canna imagine anyone bein’ a bigger hit wi’ my children.”

“That’s a relief,” I smiled. “Jamie…”

“Why didn’t I tell ye about them?”

“Yes. That’s a rather important thing… children.” I leaned back against his desk.

“Until I get to know someone — it’s easier for me to pretend to be a normal lad,” he ran his hand through his hair, “I’m a full time dad, Sassenach. I spend my weekends buying tu-tu’s and I have a cow in the backyard,” He laughed.

“Claire, before you… before this, I hadna slept with a woman since my wife died. I dinna take this lightly, what it is between us.”

“I get it, Jamie. I do,” I walked over to him and placed a hand on his chest, “To introduce them to someone they may never see again. It would be hard.” I sighed, “I’m sorry I came.”

He put his hand under my chin, “Dinna be sorry, Sassenach. Ye didna know. Besides… I’m glad they met ye. Ye’re very important to me, Claire.” Jamie kissed me, slow and tender.

“I have a question to ask ye.”

My heart started racing, surely he wouldn’t ask me to marry him, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

“Will ye go Christmas tree shopping with us, me and the girls, tomorrow?”

Oh. “Yes, Jamie. I’d love to.” I kissed him and thought of the possibilities of future Christmases to come.

___________________________

JENNY FRASER

Joe was at my place again, like he was almost every other day. We had become fast friends and I enjoyed his company. We’d been spending the last hour going over and over a speech that he needed to make in a few days. He was retiring from the hospital and they were having a dinner in his honour.

“I don’t know, Jenny. I mean, I don’t want to make a big deal out it. Why don’t I just say ‘thanks very much’ and they get off the stage?”

“Because ye’re bein’ honoured Joe, ye’ve given more than thirty years of yer life that place, to those people. Ye need to say a little more than that.” I gave him a stern look and he pressed his lips together.

“Let’s go over what ye have so far.” I read over the speech, so far it was brief, mentioning a few people he had worked with and patients that had meant a great deal to him. It needed work but I could see today we weren’t getting anywhere.

“Tell ye what, ye go home and put this out of yer mind. Tomorrow we’ll start fresh and maybe tonight I’ll even look over it again.”

Joe stood from the couch, grabbing his cane, “You’re the best, Jenny. Couldn’t do this without you.” I hugged him and walked him to the door.

I had to admit, my brain was beginning to turn to mush just thinking about going over the speech one more damn time.

“Ye need a nice relaxin’ bath.” I told myself and went upstairs to the giant tub I hadn’t found a chance to use.

Settled into the bubbles and warm water, a glass of wine on the side, I closed my eyes and leaned back.

The peace didn’t last long as my phone rang. I gave a short huff and looked at the caller ID: Ian Murray. Christ!

“Hello?” I said, suddenly painfully aware that I was sitting in the tub naked.

“Hello, Jenny. I was just callin’ to see if ye wanted to make those plans?”

He remembered, oh Jesus.

“Uh, sure yeah that sounds nice.” Play it cool, Jenny.

“Are ye free tonight then?”

Was I? Was I?! Of course!

“I think so, should be. What did ye have in mind?” He paused and I thought he’d hung up but then he said the two best words I think I’d ever heard him say just then.

“Ice Skating.”

#jamie and claire #jenny and ian #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #Claire Fraser #ian murray #jenny fraser murray #joe abernathy #bree fraser #faith fraser #the holiday au #christmas #tree shopping #ice skating #hot chocolate #mr napkin head #fluff

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lvllns · 3 years

Text

wip wednesday

except once again it’s actually thursday but whatever. @impossible-rat-babies tagged me, thank u so much owen 🥺

since it’s thursday i won’t tag anyone. i will however give you this rough bit of felix going to the ranch and meeting the people kincaid considers his family uwu

—

Kincaid throws his truck into park with a sigh, but when Felix glances over, concerned, he only finds him smiling so wide his dimples are visible.

The ranch sprawls out in front of them, an endless sea of grass broken up by various buildings. Felix thinks he can see the barn from here, tucked to the right behind the house. A few cattle lift their heads, ears flicking forward with momentary curiosity before they return to grazing. He inhales. Deep. Lets the air fill his lungs and yeah, it smells like cows mostly. Little bit sweet from the grass, and a whole lot of just dirt.

It smells like cows and dirt.

He startles when Kincaid reaches over and takes his hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss as he murmurs, “Thank you for agreein’ to come,” against his skin.

Felix shrugs, eyes darting from Kincaid to the land around them. “Why wouldn’t I?” He tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together as he focuses on Kincaid once more. “You’re important to me and they’re all important to you. I’d have to meet them eventually.”

Kincaid pulls his head back, thumb rubbing over the bumps of Felix’s knuckles. There’s something in his eyes Felix can’t place. Soft, tender. The bright green of them mellowing as the corner of his mouth lifts. “Extenuating circumstances and all that.” Kincaid shifts. Felix thinks about how this wasn’t supposed to happen. How Adam brought up a laundry list of issues surrounding the both of them going all the way out here for two days. What about food? I’m not trying to stop you two from doing this, but you need to be realistic about the situation. “I’ve...never actually brought anyone else here,” he says with a soft laugh. “Never really wanted to if I’m bein’ honest.”

“I’m special then?” Felix means it to be a lighthearted quip. A way to snap the tension in the cab of the truck, and he is caught off-guard by how earnest Kincaid’s expression becomes.

His hand is raised to Kincaid’s mouth again. Another soft kiss, another sentence whispered against his knuckles even as those moss bright eyes steadily hold his gaze. “You are...so special to me Felix.” He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, watching as Kincaid lowers his hand once more. “You have no idea.”

Words stick at the back of his tongue. He means to say them, he does, but a woman comes hurrying out of the house hollering Kincaid’s name and the moment is gone.

A feather on the wind.

Kincaid tosses him a soft smile and throws his door open. “Stephanie!”

Felix slips from the car, his door shutting with a quiet thunk, and he watches the two of them quietly.

She’s a good foot shorter than Kincaid, brown hair streaked with grey, but her dark eyes are sharp and clear. She—Stephanie—whacks Kincaid on the chest with the towel she’s holding and Felix watches as his giant of a boyfriend shrinks in on himself, cheeks going red.

“Kincaid Everett Anderson, you don’t call for weeks and then you just show up!” Felix half expects her to swat at him again but she pulls him in for a hug. A kiss on his cheek. “We’ve missed you terribly.”

“I’ve been textin’ Jase, if he ain’t—”

“Hasn’t.”

Kincaid clears his throat. Glances at Felix, but all he can do is try to stifle his laughter. When it becomes clear he’s not going to be any help, Kincaid continues. “Right, sorry ma’am. If he hasn’t been telling you, that’s not—”

“How hard would it be to send me a text, hm?” She pinches his ear, a fond smile on her face, and Kincaid bats at her hand half-heartedly. “It’s calving season, Jason can hardly remember what day it is.” Felix snorts and regrets it immediately when that keen gaze is trained on him. Kincaid gets whacked in the chest with the towel. Again. “Who’d you bring with you?” Stephanie’s voice is much softer now, the corners of her eyes gentling. Felix tries not to think about I’ve never brought anybody here before and fails.

“Steph, this is Felix. Felix, Stephanie.” He watches Kincaid toe at the dirt with his boot, shoulders curling forward just a little bit more. “He’s, well, we’re dating.”

There’s a beat and Felix almost expects this to go sideways immediately but he finds himself wrapped in a monster of a hug by this tiny woman and oh, she is much stronger than he expected. Iron bands for arms as she squeezes him tight. He reacts out of instinct, hugging her back, and then it’s over. Her hands rest on his shoulders as she looks him up and down before nodding.

“Well, it’s about time you brought somebody out here.” She grins. “It’s lovely to meet you, Felix.”

His head hurts a little bit. This is a lot. He takes a second to settle himself before flashing the most charming smile he knows. “You as well.”

#caiti.txt #writing tag #long post #this is fine to reblog btw #gods i love this so much u have no idea how long i've been thinking about this #for like a month now it's all i've cared about #felix gets to meet leo and the people kincaid spent like all of his young life with #well from ages 5 to 22 anyway #i give kincaid a terrible relationship with rebecca but i then give him #steph and jase plus their 4 kids and a horse and a whole childhood spent at rodeos so u know #i wrote this in like 25 minutes please it's messy but i'm so enamored with it already #and yeah that's kincaid's full name in there

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reekierevelator · 5 years

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On the Eve of the Wedding

Finishing up at work on Friday nights was never easy. There was always one last thing to do. And then another last thing. And another. It was never easy ensuring all the vans had returned from making deliveries and all next week’s orders were fully processed and ready to be loaded first thing Monday morning. And presentation was important. If the vans came back filthy a quick hose down was necessary.

Being loading bay supervisor was a reasonable job but I was hoping to make transport manager before I hit thirty. After that I figured it might be time to settle down. But that Friday all I was thinking was at least it was the end of the week. So, at last, time for a pint at the local, the works’ crowd gathering in the Sheared Sheep, just to be sociable and wind down, reducing the week’s stresses and strains to old war stories, something to make each other laugh about.

And Friday nights I liked a drink. Didn’t take the old jalopy in on Fridays. So later I’d generally pick up fish and chips or a pizza, or end up in an Indian restaurant with some of the gang. If I got the early bus back to my little bachelor pad on the outskirts of town I’d maybe get something delivered. But this Friday night was different.

It was Rebecca Ralston, the red head from the marketing department. I seemed to have been bumping into her for the last few weeks. The main offices were at the opposite end of the site to the loading bay but somehow she’d felt the need to come over several times, wanting to talk to me about planning new adverts for the vans, different colour schemes, scheduling printing, application to the vehicles and so on. And this even though the current advertising contract still had almost a year to run.

Not that I minded. She was a bubbly sort of girl, an effervescent personality. Irregular teeth like pushed over tombstones but still easy on the eye. She brought a little brightness into the windowless little office in the dark cavern of the loading bay. She liked to talk with a hand on my arm or my shoulder, making sure she had my attention. And that day she hinted that after work on Fridays it wasn’t unusual for her to find her way to the Sheared Sheep. As it happened it suited her, she said, living close enough to just walk home if she happened to stay late.

Unfortunately, it was nearly eight when I finally got everything wrapped up and made that watering hole. The pub was already in that in-between phase where most of the early evening ‘couple of pints after work’ crowd had already been, drunk their quota, and gone off to catch buses and trains, while only one or two of the genuine locals had as yet made an appearance.

But Rebecca was there, sitting on the edge of one of those leather sofas they’d refurbished the place with, the typical modern décor reflecting the changing functionality; more coffee shop or restaurant these days than the traditional beer-swillers’ second home.

The sofa was angled towards the door and as I entered she looked up at me under her curls and neatly shaped eyebrows and I could see she already had a glow on. She smiled that girlish crooked teeth smile and raised her hand in a nominal gesture of welcome. The black jacket of her office trouser suit was slung over the arm of the sofa. Her pretty powder blue blouse and black trousers looking fetching.

Two of the new young recruits to Accounts sat beside her. They noticed me as they followed Rebecca’s gaze. She introduced them as Jerome and Melissa but as I joined them they both rose to leave, even refusing my offer of a round, insisting instead that they had other obligations and had to rush home. But they would be sure to see me around the office – sometime. People from the main office don’t mix much with the van loading fraternity.

Rebecca held out an empty glass saying she wouldn’t mind another double vodka tonic with lemon and ice, and when I returned from the bar the pub was even emptier. Rebecca made a show of looking around all points of the compass, her short red curls bouncing, before she declared the Sheared Sheep mutton.

‘It’s really dead here, isn’t it?

I nodded and took another swallow before concluding the guest real ale, Crafty Brown Cow IPA was something less than acceptable. It seemed fermented from liquidised mince.

‘There’s another place up off the main road that’s livelier,’ Rebecca was saying, and I’d hardly had time to sit down before she’d grabbed my hand and we were on the move.

The Hardened Artery wasn’t my usual kind of place but it was certainly busy. A three piece guitar band was playing 50s rock n roll on a tiny stage and there were even young trendy types trying to dance. I rooted around and managed to scrounge a couple of stools and we proceeded to shout at each other, exchanging inane pleasantries over a medley of Johnny B Good and Hey Bo Diddley.

‘I like your shirt,’ she shouted, making me glance down at my red and blue striped button-down Ben Sherman.

‘I like your blouse Rebecca,’ I shouted back.

‘Call me Becky,’ she insisted.

‘Ok,’ I said, ‘call me Steve.’

The band were roaring into Promised Land as Becky drew her stool much closer to mine saying she couldn’t hear, and I picked up floral notes from her eau de cologne as she pressed her legs up against mine. She waved her hand around ostentatiously like a fan in front of her face and undid the top buttons of her blouse as she complained about the heat. I felt myself definitely getting very warm too. I might not be quite God’s gift but I was sure I was picking up signals and the sap was rising. I wasn’t wearing a tie I could loosen but I took off my jacket and instead undid a few buttons of my shirt revealing the pecs and heading to the six pack.

Another few drinks in that sweaty room and the long working week was catching up with me. I was dreading the long cold bus journey home and found myself glancing down at Rebecca’s newly revealed cleavage with a certain amount of wishful thinking.

‘After a final couple of brandies we fell out into the cold dark street and, saying how late it was, Becky suggested, as even in my increasingly inebriated state I somehow thought she might, that I spend the night at her place and leave off travelling home until the morning.

After a twenty minute walk, or rather stagger, including various impromptu stops for clinches and kisses, her place turned out to be a bedsit in a big old converted house, part of a street of big old converted houses. The furnishings were Spartan. A lack of chairs meant I had to sit on the bed while she retrieved a couple of bottles of beer from an otherwise suspiciously empty cupboard. After she’d applied the bottle-opener and handed me mine she plonked herself down across my knees, draping her arm around my neck. I only had time for one more sip of beer before her lips locked on mine and we toppled backwards on to the bed.

She was wildly enthusiastic and I wasn’t complaining, but that degree of gay abandon did engender a certain sort of ‘last time before the end of the world’ feeling. It was a long time before I was allowed to sleep.

Afterwards, in the morning, I commented that of the various women I’d known she was unusual in not living amid a clutter of clothes, shoes, accessories, and a jumble of make-up jars and bottles.

She said ‘Well, to be honest, that is usually me too, but I’ve already moved almost all of my stuff to Denis’s place.’

‘Denis?’ I queried cautiously.

‘My fiancé. I’m moving in to his place after the wedding.’

For a moment I thought, hoped, I’d misheard. But Becky rambled on, unselfconscious and unconcerned. ‘The wedding’s at three o’clock tomorrow. Well, three o’clock today now, of course,’ she said peering at her little bedside alarm clock and giggling. ‘The dress – floor length, dazzling white and lacy - is laid out at my Mum’s, along with all the other stuff. The cake’s a beauty – three tiers. I’ve got to get to HairWays at eleven. Full hairdo and manicure treatment. I’m going for cherry red nail-varnish to match my lipstick. The make-up will take forever. Sorry, it’s a bit late to send you an invite. But there are still one or two things no-one’s chosen yet on our gift list – I mean, only if you really wanted to…’

‘You’re… you’re… getting married - today?’ I managed to stammer.

She stretched her arm under the bed and brought forth a little box. ‘Yes, I am,’ she said, opening the little box and putting the ring on her finger. She held her arm up in the air to watch the diamond sparkle.

‘And Denis?’

‘Oh, he plays rugby, professional now. And he’s been working nights as a doorman, mainly the Jacaranda Club, - to help pay for the wedding.’

‘Ah... he sounds like a great guy.’

‘Yes, but I’m not married to him yet, am I Steve? And you’ve got lovely blue eyes and you’re really quite firm and muscular too – it must be helping to load all those heavy boxes. You know the girls up at the office have been talking about you for a while. We like to see your hose on the forecourt. I thought, well, I might as well make use of my last legitimate opportunity. At least that’s what they all told me when we were out on my hen night last week.’

‘Oh really?’ was all I could find to say.

Maybe I looked a little disappointed or pensive because she peered into my apparently lovely blue eyes and bit her lip with her unusual teeth. ‘Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you.’ she said. ‘Steve, you don’t feel I’ve just been using you, do you?’ She burst into a big smile. ‘I mean, it was good fun, wasn’t it?’

‘Well, yes,’ I had to admit. ‘Really, it was great. And no, I suppose… I mean, I was as keen as you were… It’s just…’

‘Oh, well that’s all right then, isn’t it?’ Her eyes shone brightly. ‘And it’s only nine o’clock. I won’t be Mrs Denis McGlone for another six hours. We’ve still got at least another hour before I have to be going.’

And as she fell into my arms I tried hard to clear all the frightening images of giant prop forwards and burly bouncers from my mind.

#Reekie Revelator #edinburgh #wedding #humour #humor #short story

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crossedbeams · 6 years

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ROSE REVIEWS… THE X-FILES - S1.E11 Eve

<<1.10 Fallen Angel ——————————— 1.12 Fire >>

I’m salty today and what better way than to transfer that into something positive than to finish this long overdue and almost certainly irrelevant recap of Eve. Read on for children who are almost as scary as their acting is bad, prison aesthetics and idiotic blithering by me.

THE PLOT

The fathers of creepy children are being exsanguinated on opposite coasts and Mulder wants to know the aliens have upgraded from cows. IVF suspicions run wild and with a little help from good old Deep Throat, the terrific two suspect genetic government experiments gone wrong may be responsible for the shenanigans. When the creepy kids go missing, things escalate and soda becomes a very dangerous refreshment...

Let’s go...

MY STREAM OF SEMI-CONSCIOUSNESS

Ah. The X-Files, the show that is always a scenic autumnal bath for my eyes…. And where under the leaves there is probably a dead person eaten by a molewoman or an alien. Honey? I’m home.

We find ourselves in an idyllic suburban neighbourhood, (always bad news on screen), where very concerned joggers approach an underdressed child and her stuffed animal. It’s hard at this stage to decipher whether the kid is creepy or just a really bad actor but the suspense synth hardly encourages us to give her the benefit of the doubt...

They head to the backyard, where peppy jogging neighbour fails to notice that the kid’s dad is dead coloured, posed like a corpse and basically, stereotypically and obviously dead... until he claps him jovially on the shoulder causing a tragicomic half slump of dead dad, and exposing vampiric looking marks. The kid screams, not sure why, she’s way too far away to see anything. This is the point at which I begin to suspect that she is both a bad actor AND entry #224 in the Vancouver local listing of Creepy Kids for Hire. Move over Conduit boy!

CREDITS!

This week we only wait 2.5 mins for our special baby Agents to materialise, Scully dressed as a Catholic grade schooler and Mulder wearing a tie designed, as far as I can tell, to look like mushroom soup with licorice allsorts floating in it.

Their poor fashion choices don’t seem to put them off them though, and we zigzag between lip biting (Mulder), making weird moany noises (Scully), and the level of inter office eye contact we’ve come to expect from these fluffy baby agents all set to a soundtrack of cattle mutilation chatter. And our series first (!) cow slideshow!

Scully is still naive enough to ask why Mulder believes cattle mutilation is linked to aliens. Give it a few weeks and you’ll realise that aliens is pretty much always the answer to “Why….” on the X-Files and that eyebrow is the only appropriate response before you just go with it.

I can’t wait :D

As Mulds and Sculls traverse some stairs, I realise that creepy kid #1 is called Teena. Spelled the same as Mulder’s mum. Because apparently the X-Files name bank isn’t only shallow in the male department. Also is Teena a normal spelling in the States? Here it’d only really be Tina….

I then get distracted by Scully in the biggest of purple coats. I’d love to see S1 Scully’s closet. A symphony of oversized pastels with overcoats to clash… don’t worry though hon. You’ll get some style later though for the bargain price of two (2) family members and also your ova. Poor Scully.

Scully also looks incredibly young in this scene, speaking all soft to the kid. Moments like this I struggle to believe that Mulder “never saw her as a mom” until Home. She’s all melty round the edges even though the kid is weird and creepy.

When creepy Teena starts talking about red lightning, the massively coached and unnatural pauses in dialogue and the trouble pronouncing exsanguination are just so glaring you can’t believe that this kid’s innocent charade will hold up as long as it does. But it all adds to the creep, just in time for…

**bring bring ** Scully leans in to kiss her spoopy partner tell Mulder there has been another murder. Darn. Seriously though. Close talkin to the power on uuuungghhh right here. No wonder this fandom is so thirsty.

We’re in Vancouver San Franciso, still in giant coats, for another exsanguination and what we now know is death by digitalis. Mulder says that the two estimated times of death were at the “exact same time” and I chuckle to myself like the pedant I am. Estimates cannot be exact dumdum. It also takes the edge off him mansplaining timezones to Scully. SHE IS A MEDICAL DOCTOR DAMMIT.

This scene has very nice warm, sunsetty lighting which is nice as our Spooksters demonstrate why the X-Files department is always over budget; they’ve flown cross country to do two laps of a crime scene while reading a file aloud and the kid they wanna question isn’t even in town. Where is she? I’m glad you asked, coz remember that sunny warmness? Well it’s over.

Back on the east coast, creepTeena is getting outcreeped by a thunderstorm and what appear to be disembodied footsteps at her door. We see nothing but a flash and then the door is open. It’s tense and I’m pretty sure this is never explained, raised as a concern beyond “she got abducted”?

A new day means new suits, Mulder in a tie inspired by parquet flooring and Scully in eggshell and pinstripes and a brown trenchcoat named regret. It’s a lot to process and they still don’t seem overly concerned about Teena’s kidnapping. Despite his post Samantha abduction PTSD, Mulder’s only contribution is a dramatic sky point and the suggestion the cops need to look up, but then dun dun dduuuuunh - there’s another one.

Sinister Cindy in the house. Literally.

She informs them she has lived there “since she was born eight years ago”. Zero inflection with that info and a sentence structure as unnatural as the phenomena Mulder wants to blame. Deffo a rent-a-creepykid. 100%. The woodenness only adds to it.

Commence super awkward kitchen convo where they Mulder and Scully try and fail to find a tactful way to imply Cindy might not be this grieving wife’s legitimate child. A birthing video is offered and declined. Thank god. Imagine is CHris Carter had to watch rushes of an actual woman’s vagina with a female child emerging.

Mrs Reardon’s insistence that Cindy was daddy’s girl is pretty horrifying once you know how it ends. Damn creepy kids. Listening in while watching politics, Cindy is infinitely creepier than Teena and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not for this kid “actor”.

Back in the car and Mulder is still pretty blase about Teena’s abduction/kidnap, though I forgive him because his flippant potato/potahto is adorable and he does hang out in the bushes to try and protect Cindy from getting nabbed sending Scully off to the IVF clinic alone. Ahh... the foreshadowing is out there.

At the Luther Stapes Medical Centre, a doctor mansplains IVF to Scully. She does not punch him. Another way that she is better than me.She does however, maintain super intense eye contact with him for the entire walk and truly it is a miracle she doesn’t fall over.

The next scene is pretty uneventful except that I can honestly say that Sally Kendrick is the last human I would want toying with my cervix. She’s...robotic and it looks like she has to work out how to sit down like a human. She could give Theresa May lessons.

Back at the hotel there’s some funky camera panning that I am here for and also I think there is some dialogue but let’s be honest.... this is more important

Yes Professor I would like some extra credit and may I also just smooth your poofy hair.

Even Scully knows it. Hence her confusion at being ushered out, for no obvious reason. She just wants to look at him and maybe get inside his shirt and ... and... Mulder’s “what’s a girl” is cute.... but this is cuter. (even more overanalysing of this scene here for ya glasses lovers).

Instead of meeting a girl, Mulder meets Deep Throat in an excessively aesthetically pleasing place. Honestly, Eve is a beautiful episode. Despite the creepy kids and imprisoned women. (Eve Aesthetic here). DT seems very concerned that Scully not be invited and while I’m sure that this has some link to the possibility of spy!Scully, it reads more as jealous older manfriend wants pretty Mulder to himself. And honestly I get it. God, fic has ruined me. Anyway, enough of that, enjoy this picture of pensive waterside Mulder and try to recall the specifics of the Deep Throat reveal. Project Blah. Boys called Adam. Girls called Eve. Clones. Bad. Disaster. EVE-il is at work. ¬¬ (sorry)

Mulder has brought sunflower seeds because meeting an informant without snacks = rookie error.

The important thing to note is that Deep Throat basically sets the stage for the Super Soldier Arc and everyone forgets about it when they actually get to the super soldier arc. God, for a continuity pedant, my fave is SO problematic!

Deep Throat finishes by telling Mulder he’s scored him front row seats to what’s left of the whole fucked up thing.

Cut to the most aesthetic Institute for the criminally insane and after some hot DAMN camera angles we get panic buttons and a tromp into the deeps where they keep all the government created monsters, including Eve 6.

I just wanna take a moment away from my snark and give a huge shout out to Harriet Harris who is SO good and creepy in this episode. A lot of the Season 1 extras/bit parts are average to the extreme and honestly, Harris makes this episode. Without her eyeball biting, jerky, wild eyed delivery, this ep would be as mediocre as the creepy twin actresses.

Now we’ve got that out of the way - we find out that Eve 6 screams when the lights are on but is fine with an industrial sized flashlight being shone all up in her face. Nobody’s ever got a good look at her... except presumably the person who undoes her straitjacket so she can pee? And now Mulder and Scully.

Eve 6 is my fave Eve tbh. She’s this perfect mix of terrifying and pitiful, alludes to the telekinetic connection that the younger Eve twins later reference, and is the kind of proof of government misdeed that and older Mulder and Scully despair of, delivered while they’re way too young in their partnership to do anything about it. She tells them that Eves are into suicide, psychosis and murder, and on exiting, our baby agents still don’t suspect the kids.

(Break for actual analysis) It struck me during this scene how this case tunes into both Mulder and Scully’s demons. For Mulder, it’s the missing girls and the incarcerated Eve represents a scenario that could explain Samantha’s absence in the most horrifying ways. What if she is a locked up experiment just like Eve 6? For Scully it’s a visceral representation of her struggle between scientific duty and Christian morality. The creation of Eve 6 is an aberration against both good scientific practice AND the divine right of Good to control life and death... and yet she is also a victim who did not choose too be engineered and while Scully tries to question her, maintaining composure, this face/stress swallow really says it all.

Just to double the sucker punch we cut to Cindy asking the lord to take her soul, her mother looking on with a mournful doomladen stare before telling her daughter how special she is. Cindy is unmoved, because she is special(ly evil) and Mama Reardon leaves, bereft of her husband and unacknowledged by her kid. We get it Chris Carter. Genetic experimentation BAD, family GOOD, foreboding, CHECK.... now can we just-

Mulder Scully stakeout! There is no iced tea in the bag and when Mulder posits that the adult Eves 7 & 8 did done the murders, Scully pulls this face, and mutters without much conviction that she was beginning to suspect the girls.

GOOD CALL SCULLY

Except Mulder then says “no no and here is why” and Scully just goes with it. The whole delivery at set up of this scene feels very Season 1, by which I mean Scully vacillates wildly between submitting to Mulder’s experience and being done.with.his.shit, Mulder gets all the big lines/theories/feelings/hunches and Gillian especially (and David to a lesser degree) seem unsure how to play their nuances and dynamic. Essentially it all becomes irrelevant because CRISIS takes precedent but being the super-nerd I am, this stuff fascinates me as evidence of them still learning their characters. No way S5 Scully gives up on a plausible theory so easily, even if it makes 8-yos into suspects. If cats can be evil, these staring, soulless kids can be too.

Cue Mark Snow jangles and Cindy and her similar to Teena’s bunny rabbit run away from her terrifying wall dolls and many crucifixes towards the window where she makes terrifying eye contact with Scully’s binoculars before getting grabbed by someone who is considerate enough to announce themselves by turning on the lights?!.

Mulder will take the back! (any time Mulder. Any way ¬¬ ) and sets off with his almost convincingly held gun/torch combo while Scully takes the indoors. This is, invariably, only going to go one way.

DOWN GOES SCULLY!

Sally Kendrick/Eve? leaps through the window where Mulder confronts her by asking her which Eve she is, allowing her a chance to pull a gun, shoot at him and escape and this is why you don’t want S1 Muldo and Sculls handling your home invasion. I mean who holds their gun like this, takes out a psychopath and ends the day without a hole in them?

Fox “Thinks he can outrun a car” Mulder is who.

I love his idiot face though.

Despite the fact that Cindy didn’t struggle/scream/react to her apparent kidnap at all, Scully’s remaining focussed on the adult Eves in support of Mulder’s dismissal of her earlier theory... well I already said it but - *sigh*

After Scully briefs the police and Mulder tries to reassurea distraught Mrs Reardon that her increasingly abnormal daughter will be found we get the kind of side by side, meaningful moment that I am here for all day long. Except that the height difference is so extreme that they never actually get Scully in focus!

And Scully’s “and then what” brings us back to unsettling truth that even if the kid gets found, things aren’t looking good for her given how much murder is in her genes. Poor Mrs Reardon.

Very X-Files, through-the-motel-sign shot and we see Sally Kendrick taking Cindy into motel to meet Teena. The girls look... creepy... and Kendrick looks weirdly and simplistically happy given that she has multiple abductees, severe genetic issues and the FBI on her back. Maybe poor old Sal just wants a normal life? Unlucky girl, this is the X-Files, no happy ending for anyone EVERR. Except possibly a two-faced rapist who likes Cher but that’s for another time.

Back to Sally Kendrick who is rocking a poloneck and showing a remarkable lack of nutritional concern for someone supposedly a genius. Pretty sure 8 cartons of fries are no better for psychotic murder-kids than regular ones. She begins to explain that she was pretty hopeful that she’s evolved the murdering out of her second batch of Eves but turns out she actually made it worse! Let’s pop a check in the box for “playing into popular concerns about genetic testing” and “reasons you shouldn’t do it yourself”. She tells Cindy and Teena she’s “disappointed” that they’ve done murders ahead of the curve. They are not bothered which is unsurprising given they don’t know her/are psychopaths.

Aesthetically this scene is very pleasing and the lack of stilted kid dialogue “we just knew” vs. long sentences definitely adds to tension. As does the total lack of background music. Hearing even these fairly limited actors candidly and remorselessly admit to murder is effective. And Kendrick’s slightly desperate plea that they not think that way, that they be “better” as she designed has the double effect of showing her own Eve-y instability and her very human desire to not have made a horrible mistake in creating this terrifying she-devils.

Sorry Sal.

Genetic destiny’s a bitch

And the X-Files narrative demands that when you play god you get dead. unless you’re the CSM in which case you probably drink digitalis and kale for breakfast to aid skin regrowth. Bye bye Sally Kendrick. Thanks for the creepers.

On attending the crime scene, Mulder and Scully are midway through being told that the scene is undisturbed when they hear stuff breaking. This prompts some X-Files-Action-MagicTM and some truly outrageous faces by Gillian.

Yup

What is most disturbing on rewatching is that with the scene secured, Scully confirms death and Mulder goes to gaze out the window while the Creeper twins cower and cry on the floor. Noe we know they’re guilty AF by this point, but in the narrative DumbScull and MulderingItOver haven’t quite got there because they’ve been too busy gazing at each other so we have two children just whimpering in the corner while Scully pokes a corpse and Mulder mulders about.

Scully does eventually go and pat them. And again I say fuck you CC and anyone else who “didn’t see her as a mother”.

Mulder volunteers to chaperone the creepsters to hospital and beyond and the guy in charge kinda just goes “meh”. Pretty sure some liberties have been taken with child service procedures but hey, at least this means we’re almost at the crescendo moment. Right?

Having loaded them into the car, where their spiffy red outfits match the velour upholstery and promised they’ll talk about “what happens next” (again, is this really FBI jurisdiction? Fox Mulder counselling bereaved kids seems like a HORRIBLE plan to me) , Scully and Mulder note the girls attachment and somehow miss the horrifying expressions of murder on their creepy little faces.

Again though #aesthetic

Cue some spangly night driving music, Mulder looking all pops over a red vinyl steering wheel, Scully playing mom and the creepsters plotting murder in the back. Ver ver X-Files. They pull up to a used car lot masquerading as a rest stop and go for a group wee,Mulder makes the rookie error of a) hyping evil kids with sugar and b) letting them order a murder weapon, and as soon as Scully’s distracted, one of the creepsters, possibly Sinister Cindy creeps out to spike the drinks.

Now at this point, honestly, I’m questioning the kids narrative motives. Yes they’re murderous, but aren’t they also meant to be hyper intelligent? Amd getting marooned at a nowhere rest stop, with the corpses of two FBI agents seems SUPER dumb. Like they’re a bit small and loudly dressed to hitch a ride to Vegas and make it on the strip. What gives, creepsters?

The waitress tries to stop her plan by insisting she wait to take the soda until it’s paid for, but is way too easily placated by the kids excuse. Stick to your guns lady, you might just stop a murder.

Although apparently nobody is paying any attention because THIS ISN’T SUSPICIOUS AT ALL IS IT?

Apparently Mulder doesn’t think so, even knowing digitalis is sweet and that there is something weird afoot, he doesn’t question his super sweet diet drink or the kids totally normal and not at all weirdly resistant to drinking sugar free soda and just does this. Seriously it’s like he wants to die in agony.

Scully’s not much better, simply commenting on the “syrupy” taste. MMhmm. Bitch. You’re a medical doctor with a previously voiced suspicion. Quit sipping the murder juice.

Fortunately, after some suspenseful drawn out paying and a forgotten key excuse, Mulder FINALLY twigs when he finds some green goop on the table. Apparently murderTwin is cackhanded when she pours and Mulder, having licked the poison just to check it’s murdery enough (I just cant even) rushes outside to karate chop Scully’s drink away from her in a way so unsubtle that the creepers escape.

Which is actually great news because it gives us all the chance for a nice dark, X-Files bread and butter cat and mouse around a truckstop, cool lighting and tubey-arty stuff sequence. Which I’m here for.

Despite some pants ruining puddles, the twins are quickly apprehended except for some gun wielding truckers interfere because in this universe regular citizens can hold law enforcement at gunpoint and prevent them doing their job/identifying themselves and anyway everyone almost gets shot and the kids run off again. I should probably insert some pithy political point here about arming the kids too but I’ve been writing this review for 84 years and I don’t have the energy.

Fortunately, at this point Mulder and Scully rediscover some investigative nous and having flashed an ID and truckboy, they trick Sinister and Creepy into thinking they’ve sped off after a school bus. Mulder goes full on child catcher and nabs them with a “gotcha” and is finally deaf to their “we’re just little girls” plea.

I’d like to take a second to flag up his response “that’s the last thing you are” because he’s wrong too. They are little girls, as well as psychopaths, and everyone’s insistence that they must be one thing or another is a device for narrative obfuscation as old as the bible. The appearance of beauty/youth/innocence is not mutually exclusive of the presence of malign intent or evil. Just ask Henry James/Oscar Wilde. Or me. I literally wrote a dissertation on this so. Yeah. They can be little girls and killers Mulder. Don’t be reductive.

But I guess we do need the simplicity of “this kid is evil” otherwise Mrs Reardon ripping her daughter out of a picture and burning it would be more conflicting and we’re only on season 1.

Likewise the disturbing concept of two eight year olds in a secure prison. I mean yes thy’re creepy but - duh duh dunnnnh - rescue is at hand! Eve 8 shows up for them and once again thy “just knew”. This is the kind of X-Files ending I love. This is the kidn of story I would have loved the revivals to pick up. Imagine (recast) grown Cindy and Teena, off doing murdery clone stuff. Yep. Okay. I’m done now. This is the end.

Except the score. Which is...

A solid “C” Grade (26/50)

Plot 6/10 - It’s entertaining and a good idea but I penalised it because it depends on Mulder and Scully being super slow on the uptake. That said, they do actually solve the case.

Mulder 6/10 - Mulder is in charge (thanks S1) and presents a mess of grieving brother, heroic car catcher and good cop. Good, in character stuff but not exceptional.

Scully 4/10 - Scully seems to forget she’d an MD and a badass here. She lets Mulder talk her out of (correct) suspicions, gets taken down in the action scene and generally second fiddles. She’s a cute mom but not the Scully we want to see.

USP 3/5 - This was an ambitious idea, beautifully presented, and while it didn’t quite get the polish to make it iconic it is memorable, creepy and a good representation of S1 bread and butter eps.

Other Characters 5/10 - These points are all for Harriet Harris. None for you creeper twins. None for you.

Bonus points 2/10 - One for being aesthetically pleasing. One for the dorky, cute, feeling out Mulder/Scully moments (motel urnghh) and also their mom and pop act at the rest stop.

That’s all for now folks. I’ll probably have the next one done this decade. Fire. Goodie.

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