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gazelessmenagerie · 1 year

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🗝 I would like to Compel the space gorilla

Send 🗝 to force my muse to talk about a topic they never want to speak of

Large hands idly traced their thumbs around the shiny skin of a perfect Demonic Apple, ceaselessly rubbing the surface solemnly. Emptiness fill the gap within absent-minded pupils staring upon the waxy surface, hollow, and yet there lay something beside it slowly eating away at him with invisible fangs and a slow, relentless hunger.

For months its resided there in that little crevice, nibbling away at its surroundings in the dead of night and with each passing day. Nameless and unknown, it was as unfamiliar as this planet’s range of flora and fauna. Something compelled him to speak of what ailed him so, coaxed him to finally loosen the choking chain around his throat and let forlorn words hinge over vexations riddled upon the burden of his shoulders. How to begin, though, was the first step of many and it wasn’t one so easily taken by a mouth that knew nothing than how to spit venom upon the desecration of his fallen enemies and vow threats carved from his tongue.

“ .. They disgust me. ”

“ These wretched things within. ”

“ I hear them in the silence of the world. ”

“ I feel their poisonous tongues glide along my flesh. ”

Searing red pierced deep into the abyss of onyx pupils, matching the same vibrant hue of those rolled papers held by golden string against the canopy of dark hair. Eyelids fell over slowly, echoes of the old wails of memory seeping to focus within the darkness of smaller feet skipping along behind him. The sun rose and fell, the annoyance of that stupid girl tailing him worse than his own.

‘ Something on your mind again? How about we work it through with two heads than one? ’

Idiot. What use is there to have two heads if one of them was weak and stupid? What could a second head offer that one couldn’t do on its own?

‘ You can sleep if you want. I made sure a good dream is waiting for you. ‘

How does one assure of a good dream? It seemed nothing but a false promise made. He hadn’t dreamed for a long time, slumbering as needed but.. lately he’s been having dreams that touched upon realities he hadn’t thought were--

Stop it.

Stop making him remember..

Nails dug into the once pristine flesh of the apple, sweetened words brimming with the warmth of the sun. Hardly a day went by that he didn’t escape that little runt. Verdant fields blossomed with the most fragrant flowers he’s encountered in a long stretch of time. Walking amongst those peasants and lowly insects, coaxed along by the skipping beat of that miserable girl wanting to show him where things were should he ever decide to leave the seclusion of the wild. Savory scents of succulent foods and desserts, paving the way for where the hot springs were and how..

“ I hate it. ”

Tension roiled within his body, hardly anything to hinder him but that wretch wouldn’t leave him be until he took time to sit in the searing warmth of the hot spring.

‘ You always look so tense, its not good to be tense all the time but I have a remedy for it. There’s hot springs nearby and people from the village go there to relax. It’ll help you too. ’

When did he need help? He was perfectly fine the way he is. Punting the cur got her to leave him alone but she’d be back the next day. Sometimes, if she was particularly stupid or stubborn, she’d return in the same day. Offerings of food, what they were called and the ingredients used if she caught him observing it. Showing him how to cook an egg while he was soaking away his pains and aches in the bubbling waters, dropping eggs into the water and peels of oranges for that wonderful fruity scent.

The scent of those damn apples were the most favored by that runt..

Or was it her favorite fruit to eat..?

Was it both..?

‘ The world’s beautiful, like the trees and birds. The flowers and fruit. The sky and sun. Moon and the stars, you have to see it for yourself to know the beauty of it. ’

He’s seen the endless abyss of a careless void, seen the burning hot fury of stars and ended entire planets by his hand. Once he’s seen it once, they’re all the same. What makes this mudball so damn special that he’d care for one measly second of it? He’s witnessed how the tempest tears away at anything caught in its path and the destruction caused by its howling winds, pelting needles and fires ignited by the strike of heavenly fangs.

‘ Do you like flowers? I noticed you like to look at them when we’re out here in this field. ’

His jaw tightened. Juices ran down the curves and contours of his hands, ignored entirely as a low growl rumbled. Every stupid word he’s had to hear. Things he never asked for but that girl kept telling him stories about her village, her life, her mother, anything she thought would be something worthy to talk about regardless if she was the only one speaking.

‘ You sound like thunder. We have a saying that the sound of thunder means new life is sure to follow. The storm, no matter how vicious, brings rain and rain makes our crops grow. ’

“ I. Hate. Her..! ”

The hole wouldn’t fill itself no matter how much resentment and hate he attempted to drown it in. The sharp crunch of sweetly aromatic flesh squelched like a skull in his crushing grip, eyes snapping open with the onset of Rage twisting at his face. Gusts burst away from his frame, flinging away loosened gravel, stones and debris. Fluid ran down the extent of his forearm, sticky as the blood that had coated on that day he pulverized that runt into the dirt! He heard her bones crack, heard her screams for him to stop but jealousy blinded him into a wrath. It was her fault.. HER FAULT for getting in HIS way! She was the one to blame for angering him!

“ I burned down her miserable village and broke that sniveling whelp like the insect she is with the Audacity to try and Take what is MINE! ”

Why was he getting worked up over that inane worm?! Months passed and the hole only deepened. It ate at him when he was alone with his thoughts in the dead of night, festered like an unclean wound for what reason?! He’s killed before, thousands, billions. Several sea’s worth of blood were upon his hands and not once did he ever feel regret for any of it. He’s destroyed entire civilizations and the planets they called home. Stars were of no match to him and even the entire being of a galaxy was slain by his own insurmountable power!

And yet, that insignificant speck wouldn’t let him be!

The hole in his chest grew wider by the centimeter, ate away at him like a disease that had no cure. To what end did he wind up with such a vile, tormenting pestilence?!

“ I can’t get that insufferable worm out of my head every damn time I look at these wretched apples..! ”

“ I don’t bring life, I Destroy it! Every ounce of it, every little iota of it, I’ll kill all as I please and there isn’t a damn thing that can be done about it! Not her, not them, Not ANYONE! I don’t need her help, I never needed anything from that little speck of Weakness! ”

Weak. Weak! WEAK!

That’s all she ever is. That’s all anyone is on this floating mudball! Why should he bother himself to see beauty when it was nothing but the same formations of rock and pockets of civilization? These lives mean nothing to him. These people are nothing but bugs to be squashed whenever he pleased, AS he pleased! Stringent torso expanded and contracted with the forceful snarls of air filtering to and from lungs, tearing at the air before his head yanked backwards for a harrowing howl to echo outwards into the far reaches of the land. Destruction followed suit with a cacophony of explosions ransacking the territory around, mindless roars shattering the atmosphere with a hiccup of short, choking breaths biting past a throat before another prolonged shout filled the air.

#viopolis #|| Tag: Answered #|| Tag: Gazing over the Abyss of Stars { Broly }#|| Verse: The Future Will Bare It's Fangs #( lmfao whats something he never wants to speak of? admitting he actually felt a semblance of content and then fucking it up. )#( bc of his own jealousy and rage. )#( mirin might as well have been a little sister but welp. he just botched it bc who ever taught him how to handle his emotions? )#( and just god. the english dub of movie 8 when he starts roaring right before he breaks free of control sounds like sobbing. )#( with how he breathed and screamed. furious but it had that sob in it. just alfsjg yeah could be me but thats what I went with. )#( sad that he just can't process anything without anger or violence. )#( not yet at least but BOY that's gonna take months to get any progress and months more to make progress with setbacks and lapses )#( anyway. the months of denial and burying the pain and guilt he pushed down for so long are catching up and he has a reckoning to face. )#( will he do it? find out next time. )

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 3 years

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How about a request for batsis getting hurt during a mission and batboys exaggerate 😈 thank u!

I DO LOVE MY BATSIS AND BATFAM FICS LETS GOOOOOO

Also I’m assuming you want a reaction! If you want otherwise do let me know! So let’s get started!

Batsis!Reader Gets Injured in a Mission and the Batboys are the Only Ones Home

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff, Light Comedy

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 1.3K

You skid to a stop on your motorcycle, leaving tire tracks behind you in the batcave. You could clean that later when you weren’t bleeding out. You stumbled off of the vehicle, your hand still clutching on to the bloodied towel that kept your uniform from getting dirty and took your helmet off. You had a rather dirty run in with a few lowtime criminals who some how got their hands on alien tech, how that happened you’d have to ask Star Labs later, but either way despite your many encounters with villains who were much worse, the sudden blast from a laser shocked you just enough for them to get at least a cut in. Regardless you took care of them quickly and took the weapons back, which were now pathetically hanging off the side of your motorcycle.

You rolled your shoulders back and began you ascent up the stairs to get back into the manor, it would be best if you cleaned this up as soon as you could because god were you tired. You opened the door quietly.

“Please may no one be home,” you said to yourself repeatedly. Your brothers had a knack for getting rather loud when you came back with cuts and bruises, but you couldn’t blame them with all of their unresolved trauma and the fact that you, miraculously, happen to be the one Bat that hasn’t either died and came back or gotten beaten nearly to death, which you constantly held over them because damn in this business that’s more than just an achievement.

You successfully made it to the bathroom and pulled out the small medical kit and started working on the shallow wound, and right as you finished the shower curtain pulled back.

“Ahh!” You jumped back.

“Ahh!” Tim got into a defensive stance.

“What the hell are you doing in the shower?!"

"What the hell are you doing without a shirt?"

"I asked first!"

"You don't just sit in the shower to think?" You do, but you lock the door when you decide to do that. "Oh my god, did you get injured?!"

"No," you grabbed your shirt and hid the bandages that wrapped around your torso. You both stared at each other for a moment before Tim darted out of the bathroom. "Don't you fucking dare tell anyone, Drake!" You followed him out and ran into the worst possible person.

"Whoa, careful there, (Y/N), when did you get home?" Dick asks. Then he notices your bandages. "What happened? Who did you fight? Why didn't you call for backup? Where were you?"

"Oh my god, I'm fine, Dick," you walked past him and he caught up with you.

"Fine? Fine? You didn't even wrap that right, (Y/N)," Dick begins his lecture and you begin to tune him out right as you walked into your room and shut the door. Dick, knowing his boundaries, stood outside still lecturing you, and you walked out with a new shirt on and continued to ignore him while he shot you rapid fire questions. "At least answer my first questions, (Y/N)." You sighed, and without turning to him, said,

"Got grazed with a knife. Ran into some burglars that for some reason had alien tech. Didn't need it. Downtown," you answered his questions in succession while entering the kitchen, waving to Jason, who was getting a snack, and Tim, who was probably telling Jason about your predicament.

"Alien tech? And they didn't use it?" Tim asks.

"Exactly, they probably didn't know how to. But it doesn't matter, because I am very clearly fine," you reached past Jason into the refrigerator and pulled out a fruit cup.

"You're bleeding through your shirt," Jason points out. You look down and he was right. You let out another loud sigh and tear off a few paper towels from the sink and placed them under your shirt. "At least dress it right or you'll die from bleeding out rather than actually getting stabbed."

"Well, to be fair, if Tim didn't spontaneously pop out of the shower maybe I would have," you complained.

"You didn't lock the door?" Jason turns to him.

"There are ten bathrooms in this mansion, I didn't think anyone would go in!" Tim defends. "But that's besides the point! (Y/N), I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. If they had alien tech then that knife could have been laced with something."

"Are you implying that I could have alien eggs in me?"

"Why's everyone screaming?" The youngest Wayne entered the kitchen. "I can hear you all from my room."

"Tim thinks (Y/N) got eggs implanted in her," Dick says quickly.

"No, no I don't. Besides, that's not how alien fertilization works."

"You know how alien fertilization works?" You couldn't help the contorted face you made at the thought of how he knew.

"You always do this when we call you out, (Y/N), the point is you could very likely have some kind of alien virus or bacteria inside of you that could quite possibly kill you!"

"Tim, I'm pretty sure it was a normal knife," you walked over to the pantry and took out a bag of potato chips.

"But, if what Grayson just told me was right," Damien cuts in. "How stupid could you be? Letting something as simple as a knife get to you?" He mocks.

"If you weren't a kid I would've punted you by now," you pointed at him with a potato chip and ate it. "Do I have to remind you about last week?"

"No," he scoffs. "But that's not the point. You're trained well enough to avoid bullets and you let a knife get close to you? How out of it were you?"

"I will admit that the alien guns that also shot Bruce did distract me a little."

"And you let them go free?!" Jason finally grasped the gravity of the situation. "What if they come back to find you because they're pissed?"

"Relax, I have them in the batcave," you waved him off.

"You could've been killed," Jason argues.

"Oh stop being so dramatic, Todd, I'm obviously standing here right now, aren't I?"

"One shot from any of those and you could've either been disintegrated or catapulted into another dimension," Tim adds.

"Or worse, completely debilitated and decommissioned," Dick continues.

"You could be dying right now and you wouldn't know it because of how dense you are, (L/N)," Damien was next. You continued eating your chips while they started to talk over each other, then you finally spoke up.

"Okay, I get it, I'll be more careful from now on," you spoke in a steady voice. "Now, I'm gonna go clean this up because I was so rudely interrupted by someone, and when I come back, this discussion will be over," you held your hand up to silence Jason, who was about to retaliate. Then you walked over to the kitchen door and pulled it off of its hinges.

You stood there for a good few seconds, staring at the door in your hands, and the ruined door frame. Then you looked back at the other boys, who essentially all had their jaws on the ground.

"Could she do that before?" Jason asked Dick.

"No..." the other shook his head.

"Alfred's going to kill me..." you laid the door against the wall. You reached for the water bottle on the side of the table and opened it, intending to chug the whole thing down to calm your nerves, but none of the water came out, instead the whole thing was iced over. "Uh..."

The kitchen was silent. You ran back to the bathroom and took your shirt off then the bandages, seeing that the wound had turned blue and had completely frosted over. The other boys followed you, their heads sticking through the door.

"I was right?!" Tim's voice echoed throughout the manor and you slammed your head on the wall behind you.

#dc #batman #batfam #batfamily #batsis #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfamily x reader #batfamily x batsis #batfamily x batsis!reader #requests #my writings

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bearstarseraphffxi · 3 years

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Subtext and Connotations

“Stupid kid…” Piccolo said to himself. He looked at the small human — no not human, not completely anyway — who had fallen asleep and casually collapsed onto him without a care in the world.

A world that had just gotten immeasurably bigger ten months ago.

Piccolo did not know how to react at first. This kid was a first for many things. He stayed still hoping he’d fall off.

But no… The son of his greatest enemy had just leaned forward and was now draped over one of his legs.

Piccolo sighed. He looked up at the moonless night sky. He absentmindedly wondered which pinprick of light was the fault of what he was about to do. What he had been stewing over for four months now, making him seriously analyze his birth and what could have gone wrong with the transfer. He was Demon King Piccolo, damn it…

Piccolo looked over to the west and sneered. He could practically hear Kami snickering in his head.

Piccolo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He put his large hand on the boy’s head. “Sebnek yemtaw himefinnew.”

Gohan moaned and twitched.

Piccolo jerked his hand away, but Gohan simply moved his arm and somehow ended up even more over his leg before he went still again.

Piccolo sighed in relief.

~~***~~

“Hey, Mr. Piccolo?” Gohan asked, adjusting his pants from the morning bush and small ki-blasted hole visit.

“What?” he said annoyed.

Piccolo stood as he always did, his back to him, but Gohan did not mind. That was just Mr. Piccolo.

When his mother was mad at his father, she would turn her back and talk in that tone when he would win the argument, then reword what he had said to make it look like she got exactly what she wanted all along. He did not know what he was “winning”, but Mr. Piccolo was being a lot nicer to him recently when he wasn’t beating him into a pulp.

“What does Seb nek yem taw—”

Piccolo partially spun around. “What?! You were awake?!”

Gohan stuttered, “I… you always randomly attack me. But you were gentle, so I went back to sleep.”

Piccolo regained his composure, crossed his arms, and towered over the boy. Any other child would be terrified, but this one just smiled back at him.

Piccolo sighed in annoyed defeat. There was no scaring this one. “I called you a silly boy last night in my language, that was all.”

“What part of it means silly?”

“Himefinnew. It is a single word that means a silly child.”

“You can call me Himefinnew any time you want, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said grinning, with what few teeth were left.”

Piccolo reached his hand out and grabbed Gohan’s head, then gently spun him around. “Let’s just keep it Finnew for short, got it?”

“Yes, sir! Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said happily.

Piccolo suddenly punted the screaming boy high into the air. “Never turn your back on the enemy!” Piccolo shouted, jumping after him to start the day’s training.

~~***~~

Three months later…

“Hey guys!” Bulma shouted, holding her phone in one hand and waving with the other, “Dad says he’ll be here in about twenty minutes with the two cargo planes to take us to my place!”

“Does it really take this long to traverse your own planet?!” Vegeta snapped. “This planet is puny judging by its gravity!”

Bulma put her hands on her hips. “Oh, stop complaining, homeboy. It hasn’t even been an hour yet.”

“An hour?!”

Everyone glanced at the arguing couple before returning to their own conversations.

Piccolo glared ominously as Gohan was speaking with Dende and three young adults. They were laughing at each other’s bad accents while speaking each other’s languages. “He” knew that the three couldn’t speak properly and that the laughter was not genuine. “He” knew ‘teenagers’ when he saw them, the old word suddenly sounding like he heard it for the first time, even though it was spoken with “his” own mind’s singular voice.

It had only been a few hours and these sensations were getting old fast.

“(Hey there),” a Namekian came up to him awkwardly in their native tongue. “(How are you doing, after… everything)?”

Piccolo sighed. “(I)”, he stressed, “(am fine… Lumache. Really. Go comfort the others who are taking Guru’s death badly.)”

Lumache smiled relieved, but his face quickly changed to confusion. “(Are you sure? You’re speaking with a bit of a lisp.)”

Piccolo smirked. (It’s the accent here on Earth. I doubt ‘Kami’ will be coming down from his ‘high horse’ to meet any of you. But this is how we speak here.)”

Lumache tilted his head concerned. “(Is this ‘Kami’ another aboriginal like the pet?)”

“(Gohan is no pet)”, Piccolo said, barely containing his rage. “(And ‘Kami’ is…)” he paused. “(… the name of my egglayer’s hatchmate.)”

Lumanche raise his finger, “(But… ‘Kami’ is not a Namekian name.)”

“(I know, but his name is Kami. So get used to it.)”

Lumache bent his raised finger. “(And he was also called a… ah…)” he hesitated looking for the right words.

Piccolo smirked. “No, his name was Namekian and I will be using it going forward. That was the deal.”

Lumache sighed relieved with a thankful grin across his face, “(Oh, that goodness. I was worried, dear brother.)”

Piccolo was feeling both a little bad but also waiting in great anticipation to laugh at his reaction when the conversation with the teenagers got loud. He turned his full attention back to Gohan and Dende.

Piccolo uncrossed his arms, then bent his elbow as he balled his fist.

~~***~~

Moments earlier…

The teenager in the middle of the trio was making funny noises to the laughing of his two companions and the giggling of Dende.

Gohan, however, was being encouraging. “You’re getting close. Just find a soft spot near the top of your throat to click the area just behind the tip of your tongue against it.”

The teenager threw his hands up, and spouted what Gohan knew to be curses. “(This is bleep-ing ridiculous!)” he continued.

“(Don’t feel bad,)” Gohan said. “(I still can’t get *guttural sound with a secondary high pitch right afterwards* right. ‘Mr. Piccolo’ said he knows of a few ‘human’ languages with the sounds happening at the same time and that after the fighting we could look into ‘throat singing’ together.)”

The one on the teenager’s right chuckled. “(Yeah, and I’m sure this ‘Piccolo’ has been a big help since you speak with such a bad lisp.)”

“(He doesn’t have a lisp,)” Dende corrected. “(It’s just the accent of the people here. I’m told everyone speaks that way.)”

“(Dende,)” the one to the left shook his head. “(And the elders always say you were the smart one. Here you are believing everything a piccolo says.)”

“Dende,” Gohan whispered in English, “is there a word that’s also said as piccolo and not just a person’s name?”

Dended had a look of shock on his face. “You don’t—”

“(Dende, don’t bother,)” the teenager in the middle said. “(There’s no point learning this stuff.)”

“After everything that just happened, how can you say that?!” Dende said loudly, and in English.

The entire congregation went silent and turned to look at them.

As Dende started to whimper and Gohan wrapped his arms around him, the three knew they all looked bad.

“(Since you can’t say my name right,)” Gohan offered an olive branch, “(My teacher, ‘Mr. Piccolo’, calls me something when I’m being stupid. ‘Nickname’ doesn’t have a better translation than that.)”

Unknown to the youths, everyone’s sight was turned to the sudden fighting stance of the person all the Namekians but Dende knew only as Nail’s new Keeper.

“(Ok, ‘Hohan’, What’s this ‘Nickname’?)”

“(Himefinnew. He shortened it Finnew.)”

You could hear a pin drop.

~~***~~

Vegeta knew something was wrong instantly as his eyes scanned the clearing. This type of shock, disbelief, and the building rage so pungent it was tasteable on his tongue, this only came with something unforgivable. Vegeta enjoyed getting his prey to react like this. The resulting stupidity was entertainment on boring missions. Killing and eating children usually did the trick. Nappa didn’t even bother with the killing part first.

Vegeta smirked.

This wait just got a lot less boring.

~~***~~

“Gohan! Gohan, don’t say something like that!” Dende grabbed his armor and shook him. “Apologize!”

“What? Is… Is it actually a curse word?” Gohan said horrified as the possibility dawned on him. “Mr. Piccolo said it meant ‘silly child’.”

“Silly child?!” Dende looked over at Piccolo. “Has the meaning changed here?! Don’t you know what it means?!”

Suddenly, an adult came over and grabbed Gohan’s arm. He tried to bite his nails into his flesh, but they bent backwards instead.

Gohan barely had time to plant his feet when the man went suddenly flying through several trees.

Piccolo retracted his arm from the long punch and stormed over. “(Next person who touches that child joins Schnecke pulling splinters out of his tonsils!)”

“(How…)” “(Can we even do that?)” “(Did he just… extend his arm?)” were among the murmurs Gohan could make out. He also spotted several Namekians put their hands over their mouths and looked away, or even bending over at the waist.

Dende tugged on Piccolo’s pants leg. “How did you do that?” he whispered in English.

“(Don’t you dare teach something that barbaric and obscene to the hatchlings! You shame your role as a holy keeper to Na, eh?)” the Namekian paused. “(What even is your name, brother?!)”

“(He’s no brother! Brothers do not harm brothers! He attacked Schnecke!)”

“Why do they keep calling Mr. Piccolo ‘brother’?” Gohan whispered to Dende. “He’s from Earth? So was his father and Kami? They don’t have siblings.”

“Sib-lin?” Dende said confused. “I don’t know that word.”

Piccolo stood proudly, “(My name is Piccolo! Piccolo ‘Daimao’ the Second!” He slowly turned his head glaring into as many eyes as possible, “Heir to my dead egg layer, King Piccolo ‘Daimao’!)”

A pin drop could be heard again as Gohan looked around. All the Namekians had looks of horror on their faces. He kicked himself for being surprised.

“Gohan, what does ‘Daimao’ mean?” Dende whispered in English.

Gohan jerked his head. “Wha? You don’t? Then wha?” he stuttered. He began glancing around anxiously.

“Gohan what’s wr—”

Suddenly a Namekian fell to his knees screaming in anguish. “(Who names a child that?!)”

Piccolo stomped over screaming something so fast all Gohan could make out was Piccolo repeating his name over and over again, but judging by the adults scrambling to cover the children’s ears, he wasn’t old enough to learn a good portion of it.

Piccolo grabbed the Namekian by his collar and pulled him up. “(And if any of you touch Hime again…)” Piccolo extended his nails into long daggers, “(I’ll slice you apart so bad you can’t regenerate.)” He then shoved the man back on the ground and retracted his claws. “Hime!” he said walking swiftly over to Gohan. Piccolo put his hand on Gohan's head, gently turning and shoving him. “We’re leaving. Come on, boy,” he said in English.

Gohan stumbled briefly but quickly walked in step with him into the trees.

~~***~~

Vegeta was disappointed that the show seemed to be over after those two had vanished into the woods, but their energy seemed to still be close by. Suddenly Dende broke the awkward silence by running after them. The others began to shout before the old one the dead Namekian had placed hands on shouted something that made the others stop before he walked after Dende.

Vegeta turned to stalk them when he looked at the Earth woman who had turned at the exact same moment.

They looked at each other surprised before the woman gave an oddly devious smile, took two steps ahead then turned and pointed at him before repeatedly bending that finger. Vegeta took the strange gesture as an invitation to follow and the two disappeared unnoticed.

~~***~~

“Mr. Piccolo, what was that about? What happened there? Why was everyone mad at me? What did—”

“Not now, Gohan. They can still hear us.”

Gohan looked behind them.

“My ears are not for show,” Piccolo answered his thoughts.

Suddenly Piccolo looked behind them as well.

Soon Gohan heard it too.

“Wait! … Gohan, wait!” was heard softly in the distance.

Then came the rapid footsteps.

Dende burst through the trees stopping in front of them. He placed his hands on his knees panting. “Wait… Wait for me…”

Piccolo sighed. “Fine… you can come too,” he said annoyed. He began walking briskly again. “Hurry.”

“Yes,” Gohan quickly got in step.

Dende jogged out of breath behind them.

~~***~~

Piccolo eventually stopped and leaned against a tree. “Ok, this is far enough,” he sighed. He sat on the ground.

“Mr. Piccolo, what happened? Why was everyone mad at me?”

Piccolo sighed. “Gohan… from what I taught you about my language, break down Himefinnew into its parts.”

“Um…” he thought, “Finnew is the third person singular to finir, which means to find something funny, so… Hime is the part that means boy. I find the boy funny, or Silly boy like you first said.”

“Dende, quiet,” Piccolo said cutting him off. He looked back at Gohan. “Now Gohan, tell me the difference between the words red and crimson.”

Gohan paused. “They are both two words that mean the same color?”

“Yes, but there is a difference. Do you know why the word red is almost always used while crimson is not?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Crimson specifically means the color of human blood. To call something crimson is to compare it to blood. Now answer that question.”

“Blood is scary?”

Piccolo smiled, “Exactly.”

“So Hime is a scary version of boy?”

“What?! No!”

“Dende quiet,” Piccolo snapped.

Dende looked down.

Piccolo sighed.

“Gohan, what I’m trying to say is that many words have a hidden meaning. Like crimson is scary. Hime is… I… it…” Piccolo’s face and ears tinged purple. He covered his face with one of his hands. “Gah… what I’m trying to say is… Gohan…

“So you named the child but never told him? Were you ever going to tell him?”

“Elder Moori!” Dende said as the old Namekian walked out of the trees.

Piccolo shot up as his color deepened. “This is a private conversation!”

Moori gave a knowing smile to the adult blushing like a child being caught being naughty. He looked at Gohan. “So tell me Himefinnew, did Piccolo place his hands on your head and say ‘Sebnek yemtaw’ when he named you, or…”

Gohan started nodding before he finished.

“I see…” He looked at Piccolo, “I don’t know how significant it is with our kin on Earth, but for Namekians the naming ceremony is an important step in a child’s life. We do not name at hatching but let the child grow until it becomes apparent what his name is, like Dende here,” he looked at him, “Dende literally means ‘He writes in stone’. We named him that because he can memorize and repeat anything he hears perfectly.”

“And Nail means humility,” Dende said looking up at Piccolo.

Moori snickered, “Nail was not happy when he was named that by Guru. You don’t know this Dende, but Nail was actually very arrogant as a youth. He was sent to live Guru not because he was virtuous, but because he was a delinquent.”

Dende’s jaw dropped.

Moori looked at Piccolo, “Nail never lost that fire despite him learning to outwardly behave. I was greatly worried for you, but after everything that just happened…” he walked over and put his hand on piccolo’s shoulder. “I know you two will make a fine man once everything settles down in a few hours. Only a man with the pride in his name like that could embrace him fully and not be ashamed of his lesser instincts,” then he smiled knowingly, “Isn’t that right ‘Daimao’?”

“You know what that means, elder?” Dende asked.

Moori took his hand off Piccolo’s shoulder and looked down at him, “Yes I do. It’s a word that means the unpleasant part of all of us, like arrogance,” he glanced at Piccolo, “Or anger.” He looked back down, “While ‘Kami’ is the nice things about us, like friendship and loyalty.”

“But they are both words like crimson, right?” Dende asked.

He nodded. “Yes, they both have a special connotation that makes them very rare. Even the adults don’t know those words.” Moori looked down at his hands. “Even I… did not know those words until a little while ago.”

Dende nodded understanding.

Moori extended his hand. “Come with me, Dende. Let the ‘titim’ and ‘hime’ talk alone.” Then he turned in a random direction. “That goes for you two as well!”

“What?! How did you know we were here?!”

“You stupid bitch! Don’t you know how to keep your stupid mouth shut!”

“I am not a stupid bitch, you—”

Piccolo grumbled putting his hand over his face again.

Moori smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be able to relearn your awareness. Nail was always too easy to sneak up on.” He took a step then stopped, “It may not be my place to say, Daimao, but maybe losing some of your suspiciousness would be a good thing. It can be lonely as a piccolo no matter where your home is.”

He took Dende’s hand and left.

Piccolo sighed as the volume of the argument coming from the trees rose up several notches.

“So… we’ll be talking later, right?” Gohan asked, looking in the direction of the screaming.

Piccolo chuckled, “Yeah… … Actually, Gohan,” he knelt and whispered in his ear.

~~***~~

10 minutes later at the clearing, a large box-shaped plane touched down.

Dr. Brief hopped out.

“Daddy!” Bulma ran over.

“There’s my baby girl!” They hugged. “Phew. Oh boy, I’ll call your mother and make sure you have a nice bubble bath waiting with lavender candles.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Hey! I thought you said two transports! That’s only one!” Vegeta shouted pointing.

Dr. Brief pulled out what looked like a grenade from his pocket and threw it a good distance away. Suddenly an identical craft appeared in a puff of smoke.

Vegeta gritted his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping.

Bulma threw open the passenger side door, “Come on, Homeboy! Come ride in the cockpit with me!”

Vegeta stiffened and clinched his fists. “As if I’d spend another second listening to your prattle!”

Then sit in the back with the friends of the people you killed for three hours, you jerk!”

“I’ll ride with the old man!” he looked at Dr. Brief to see him already talking with Dende.

“Sorry, sonny! The kid’s beat you to it!”

Vegeta bristled. “Fine!” he stormed over and shoved her out of the way. He climbed in and slammed the door.

“Jerk,” she said, wiping the grass off her. Bulma turned to the group as her father dropped the cargo ramp on his plane. “Ok everyone! Load up so we can finally get out of the bugs!”

Piccolo helped everyone find a seat, the elders and children bucketed on the benches while the teenagers and adults sat on the floor. Gohan did the same for the other plane.

Gohan came around to Bulma’s window.

She rolled it down.

“Everyone’s in over here. I'm going to ride with Mr. Piccolo in the other plane.”

“Ok, Gohan.” Bulma rolled up the window.

On the other side, Piccolo was talking to Dr. Brief.

“Everyone is ready. I’ll be with Gohan in the other plane.”

“Okey Dokey. See you when we land,” Dr. Brief smiled.

The Briefs watched Gohan and Piccolo walk over and disappear behind the other plane in their side mirrors. After a brief rock that felt like someone climbing in, the two rear doors closed.

As the two planes flew away, Piccolo and Gohan floated in the air watching them, having flown up after rocking the plane to avoid being seen on the ground after takeoff.

Gohan had his hands over his mouth stifling a giggle.

Piccolo grinned. “Deceit is fun, isn’t it Gohan?”

“Yes, don’t tell Mom I said so.”

“Secret’s safe with me.”

The two dropped their arms and sighed at the same time. Then they looked at each other.

Piccolo dropped to the ground first, Gohan landing moments later.

“Ok… We’re were we…” Piccolo said slowly.

“Actually, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said looking up.

Piccolo looked down.

“Could you tell me what you were saying when you were screaming your name? Besides the bad words, I mean. You spoke too fast. I… got the part where you threatened to chop him up, though.”

Piccolo sat down, “This… is going to be… just about as hard to explain as Hime is actually…”

Gohan looked down, “Oh…”

“Sit down, Gohan.”

Gohan sat down mimicking Piccolo’s legs position.

He halfheartedly smiled, then sighed. “Gohan… ‘Piccolo’ has a very specific meaning, and in fact wasn’t even a name until Kami called out, ‘I banish all that is abhorrent! Piccolo!” when they cleaved. Did you know how they were born?”

“A person ripped in two and became all good and all bad. But you’re not all bad, Mr. Piccolo.”

“Gohan, the ability to care for a child is a biological function. It has nothing to do with good or bad. My father felt every one of my brother’s die by your father’s hands just as much as Guru felt Frieza rip their lives away one by one.”

Gohan gasped softly.

“You didn’t know about my brother’s, did you?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Gohan. You know how babies are made, right?”

“A mommy and daddy each take half a small piece of themselves that can’t live alone, stick them together to make a new person then the mommy either grows them in their tummy or lays an egg and they grow in there until they hatch, right?”

“That is how things work on Earth,” he nodded. “But that does not work for Namekian’s like me.” He adjusted his position. “We don’t have both mommies and daddies. There is only one kind. We take a whole piece of ourselves, already alive, and place in an egg to grow again. That is why we feel the deaths of our children, because literally a piece of us has died.”

“What does this have to do with your name?”

“Because ‘piccolo’ means anything that is not part of us. Born from us. Is. Us. But like red and crimson, Piccolo is saved for special things, like an alien planet and the people who lived there. You are a piccolo, even if people won’t say it to your face.”

Gohan looked down, “And anything piccolo is abhorrent, right?”

Piccolo put his hand on Gohan’s head. “Not everything.”

“What…” Gohan started sniffling, “What did you say?”

“I was born on an alien world. I was raised as an alien. I am an alien. There are many other words I could have used to convey that, but using my name was just me beating it into their thick skulls without using my actual fists.”

“Being able to defeat your opponent without ever needing to touch them is just as big a part of war as actually fighting hand to hand combat.”

“Correct. If you weren’t such a goofball, there would probably be two Dende’s right now.”

Gohan gave a quick few laughs, then when quiet.

Piccolo waited silently for him to speak.

He waited a very long time.

“Mr. Piccolo…” Gohan finally started, but never finished his thought.

“Say what you are thinking Gohan,” Piccolo ordered, “Nothing you can say will ever make me mad. I have a thick skin.”

“Do… Do I… Do I have two grandfathers now…” he glanced up at his face, “that are kings?”

Piccolo smiled, showing his teeth.

Gohan gasped. Piccolo swore his eyes were sparkling.

Piccolo sighed and closed his eyes. He raised his finger. “One time. This one ti— ACK!”

Gohan flung his arms around Piccolo’s neck and knocked him flat on his back.

“Oofff,” he said, having the wind knocked out of him.

“Titim. Titim.” Gohan kept repeating, now crying in his ear.

Piccolo sighed and looked up at the clouds. He then suddenly raised his arms and gave two middle fingers to the sky.

Even thirty miles below, he could hear the laughing.

#dragon ball z #dragon ball z kai #namek saga #saiyan saga #piccolo #Gohan #son gohan #fanfiction #fanfic

22 notes · View notes

angstyaches · 3 years

Note

Hey can you write a Sickfic where Rin is the sickie and Shayne is the care taker?

For non-Irish/non-Brits, or just whoever didn't know: tights = pantyhose. Londis = a small supermarket or convenience store type-place. Punts = money from before the Euro. Don't ask me "why all the cultural references?", because I don't know.

CW: emeto, food mention, food poisoning

_____

“You okay?”

"Mmhmm!"

“Really?”

Rin held back a groan and nodded, her forehead dragging on the car window it was currently pressed against. “Yep.”

“Okay, it’s just – this, this right here, Rin? Doesn’t look okay.”

She lifted her head, pushed her glasses up from where they’d slipped down her nose, and blinked rapidly. Shayne was a little blurry as she turned her head and looked at him. “I might be a bit nauseous.”

“No way,” he muttered.

“Damn it, I was fine ten minutes ago,” Rin whined, turning around to lean her back against the car door. She folded her arms tightly against her stomach and squeezed her eyes shut. “What the hell’s wrong with me, Shayne?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, do I?” Shayne glanced around like a kid looking for a grown-up to come and help. The tiny car park they’d pulled into was attached to a deserted forecourt and a Londis that probably still had old Irish punts in its cash registers.

Rin sucked in a deep breath and let it back out slowly. It had started off as a mild headache that she'd been sure would pass, but suddenly her stomach was cramping so badly that she'd had to get the car off the road.

“You know, I bet it’s just period stuff,” she sighed. “My cycle reacts really badly to stress, and this month’s been… Well, it’s been a lot.”

“Could definitely be related to stress,” Shayne said, awkwardly eyeing her up and down. “Can I get you anything from the shop? Do you need water, or – or anything else...?”

Rin almost laughed despite the fact that her insides felt like they were being pinched and twisted by a giant pair of pliers. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you buy private things.”

“Fuck off, I wouldn’t care.”

“Thank you. But I don’t need anything like that,” Rin sighed, working up the energy for a quick smile. “Some water would be good though. Make sure it’s from the fridge and not the shelf.”

“Yes, madame.”

“Merci beaucoup,” Rin half-sang, half-whimpered as Shayne turned to head towards the shop.

She turned around to press her head against the car window again, groaning as her stomach churned. She lifted a hand towards it, dying for some kind of relief from the unbearable pressure inside. She wished she could have ripped her clothes off; despite the fact that the name should have given it away, her tights felt tight under the waistband of her skirt, oppressively so.

Usually, she would have at least glanced around the car park to make sure she was alone, but Rin honestly wouldn’t care if there was. She undid the metal clasp on the side of her skirt, instantly feeling the material loosen and shift around her waist. A sigh escaped, bubbling right from her diaphragm. Rin slid her hand inside the band of her tights, cradling her bloated belly and protecting it from the pull of the elastic. Her skin was hot and her stomach gurgled under her palm.

This was bad, she was starting to realise. Cramps alone, she could forgive, she could rationalise. But the clamminess, the bloating, and this level of nausea were new. She thought back over the morning so far, trying to figure out what could have gone wrong. Charlie had cooked them eggs and bacon for breakfast before she and Shayne had left, but… That couldn’t be it, because if Shayne and his sensitive stomach were fine, then surely Rin would be –

“Oh, no,” Rin murmured to herself. Shayne hadn’t eaten the bacon and eggs. He’d only had toast. Which Rin and Charlie had originally thought was great, because it meant that there was more for the two of them.

As though summoned by its own memory, Rin burped and tasted her greasy, salty breakfast. Her belly rumbled, sending shivers of nausea in all directions and making her skin feel slick. She barely had a moment to let the thought flash through her mind before she needed to react;

It was coming up.

Rin stumbled towards the back of the car, gagging and holding her breath until she was facing the bushes. No way was she going to be hosing her own vomit off the tyres later that day. So instead, the barely-digested chunks of food decorated the waxy-looking leaves that lined the concrete. She heaved at least five more times before Shayne got back, and by then, she was in so much discomfort that she couldn’t help casting him a glare, resenting him for forgoing the food that was causing her so much misery.

“Hey,” he said stiffly, glancing at the bushes and then at Rin. He was holding a bottle of water in one hand, his phone in the other. “So, uh, Charlie called and he wanted to pass on a message."

“What?” Rin snapped, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

“He's puking, too. He thinks something was wrong with whatever you guys ate for breakfast –”

“Oh, you think?” Rin exclaimed. She waved a hand towards the sick that was dripping from the branches.

Looking at it again made Rin need to double over again, retching despite her stomach almost being empty by now. She shivered, grimacing as she felt Shayne place an awkward hand on her back.

"Sorry."

“Not your fault, babe.”

“Mmm.” Shayne twisted the cap off the water bottle before handing it over.

Rin held it delicately against her cheek for a moment, eyelids fluttering shut at the pleasant temperature, before she allowed herself to take a few sips. The liquid was, in the end, a little too cold for its purpose, and she felt her stomach knot as soon as it landed there. She frowned and rested a hand on her belly, and jumped when she realised her skirt was still undone. It still sat high enough on her hips, but it still felt indecent for a public place.

“Oh, god,” she groaned, fumbling with one hand to try to pull the fabric together and hook it closed. “Sorry, it’s just that it got really tight –”

“Rin, stop, don’t worry about that,” Shayne told her, reaching out to take the uncapped water bottle she was trying not to spill.

Rin let out a nervous laugh, zipping up the front of her hoodie to conceal the fact that her clasp was open. She folded her arms around her waist again, eyes lowering to the ground as every system in her body fought the urge to bring back the nausea.

Shayne scratched his head. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” Rin gulped the bitter saliva that was gathering in her mouth. “Not good. Is Charlie okay?”

“He’ll be fine. I’m worried about you right now, I – fuck.” Shayne folded his arms, frowning with a muted sort of anger. “I’m so sorry I can’t be more helpful, Rin, I can’t – I can’t even offer to drive the rest of the way or anything.”

“Hey, that’s not your fault,” Rin assured him. She rested her shoulder against the back of the car. Vomiting seemed to have sapped her energy and left her feeling like a flimsy pile of spaghetti.

Shayne watched her, squeezing the bottle with one hand and pressing the other against his jaw like he was in mild pain. “I can – I can offer you a hug?”

She nodded miserably.

Rin raised her arms in a drained attempt to grab at the air like a baby until she was embraced. She almost cried at how gently he was able to put his arms around her, while also keeping her upright and taking most of her weight.

"Sorry you're so sick."

"Yeah," she sighed heavily, resigning herself to the pain that was well and truly established in her gut by now. She flinched as she felt Shayne's phone vibrate in his pocket. "You gonna get that?" she asked, thinking it was probably an update from Charlie.

"Mmhmm." Shayne didn't unwrap his arms from her. "In a minute."

#food poisoning #food mention #emeto #emetophilia #upset stomach #nausea #OC sickfic #sickfic #emeto sickfic #StW Rin #Swallow the World

35 notes · View notes

snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,919 Words

Summary: A new friend moves into the dorm.

Warnings: Death Mention, Abandonment Mention, Orphan Mention, Disownment, Cursing, Injury Mention, Blood Mention, Caps, Food Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 5

6:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

President Megaphone: Alright, you might have noticed dorm 10 is occupied this morning. You guys are getting another fellow dormmate.

gay salt: mon dieu. Who?

President Megaphone has added Bakugou

Bakugou: Hi, I guess.

farmer toshi has changed Bakugou's name to deku deck-you

deku deck-you: I'd kill you if you didn't risk your life for my teacher.

farmer toshi: Come kill me then, coward.

deku deck-you: No, I'm too tired.

schrodinger better run: Hey, Baku, what's your tragic backstory?

deku deck-you: What?

foil-mecha: Well, about 60% of us in here have a tragic backstory for being in the dorms. Monoma's mother abandoned him in Japan, Hagakure and Shinsou are orphans, Kuroiro's parents hate her, and Honenuki's been disowned. Me and Shiozaki are only here because our commute to and from school would have been horrible and Tsunotori and Aoyama are exchange students.

deku deck-you: It's stupid. I don't want you to think I'm pathetic.

gay salt: If anyone makes fun of you, I'll personally kick in the teeth. Besides Shinsou, he gets a free pass only because his teeth are already fucked this week with wires.

deku deck-you: Well, my old hag mother wanted me to drop from UA because it's too dangerous for her liking but I wouldn't do it so she kicked me out and disowned me. She beat me pretty bad, ended up breaking my right kneecap and left a bunch of deep cuts on my arms and almost severed my arteries in my wrists with some glass from a vase she broke before she threw me out of the house.

deku deck-you: I'd have used my quirk on her if it wouldn't be considered unwilling quirk usage against a civilian and, with my quirk, I'd be put in jail for how dangerous me using it in a fight could be, especially if she claimed I hurt her. I can't even go to class this morning because she threw my blood on my UA uniform so I wouldn't go back.

farmer toshi: Can't say it'll completely fit you, but my uniform is clean in room 6 in the top drawer of my dresser. Use mine for today since I'm not allowed to go to school today still. I threw up last night so I'm being held yet again for observation.

deku deck-you: Thank you. Who all is even here?

ranch flavored jello: Oh yeah, introductions. You weren't here for them.

ranch flavored jello has quoted 21 messages

Aizawa: Shouta, he/him, I'm gay, married, depressed

Shinsou: Hitoshi, he/him, I'm gay

Monoma: Seiko, she/they/he, pansexual/genderfluid, if you have a crush on me, you're some kind of gay

Hagakure: Toru, she/her, lesbian

Aoyama: Akemi, she/they, trans mtf/lesbian

Tsunotori: Pony, she/her, lesbian

Shiozaki: Ibara, they/them, asexual/agender/aromantic

Kuroiro: Kageya, she/her, trans mtf/bi

Tokoyami: Fumikage, he/him, trans ftm/bi

Honenuki: Juzo, she/her?, bi

Kuroiro: Ah yes, our girl, Honenuki Kiyomi.

Shinsou has changed Aizawa's name to feral cat dad

Shinsou has changed Aoyama's name to gay salt

Shinsou has changed Hagakure's name to ranch flavored jello

Shinsou has changed Tokoyami's name to foil-mecha

Shinsou has changed Kuroiro's name to life is a nightmare

Shinsou has changed Shiozaki's name to saviour

Shinsou has changed Tsunotori's name to schrodinger better run

Shinsou has changed Honenuki's name to pure

Shinsou has changed Monoma's name to nat20

feral cat dad has changed Shinsou's name to farmer toshi

deku deck-you: Well, I'm pansexual, he/him, trans ftm, just please don't call me Bakugou anymore, I don't want that hag's surname.

feral cat dad: I'll fight your mother, don't tempt me.

feral cat dad: Also how about Aizawa Katsuki?

deku deck-you: I'm going to start crying.

nat20: Looks like Mr. Aizawa is adopting another kid with bad parents.

President Megaphone: Yeah, I'll get the paperwork on the UA twelve hour adoption from custody transfer.

deku deck-you: Oh my god, I can't believe this is really happening.

farmer toshi: I'd kill a transphobe for my brother, your honor.

deku deck-you: I have a family? Really? A real family that won't hurt me?

President Megaphone: As your uncle, I assure you, nobody here will hurt you.

feral cat dad: Katsuki, I would never hurt my son.

farmer toshi: Yeah, dude, I wouldn't hurt you, ever.

ranch flavored jello: I have a brother! I wanna paint your nails!

deku deck-you: I don't think I've ever been happier in my life.

farmer toshi: I'm glad you're happy, Katsuki.

deku deck-you: You're all so nice, thank you.

gay salt: We'd be nice to you regardless, Kats. We're happy to help you whilst you're settling in and finally getting to feel safe. We're proud of you for being brave enough to reach out for help when you needed it.

deku deck-you: I need to get dressed before y'all keep making me cry.

deku deck-you is now offline

7:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: katsukiinhisschooluniformwithorangehair.jpg

deku deck-you: Toru helped me because my arms still hurt a lot when I grab things.

ranch flavored jello: My boy, Katsuki, looks like a god.

deku deck-you: I finally don't look like my mother anymore.

farmer toshi: I'll punt kick her for you, bro.

deku deck-you: Don't make me cry.

ranch flavored jello: Get to class, Kats. I'm waiting for you.

deku deck-you is now offline

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

ranch flavored jello: katsukisnewhair.vid

Video Transcript

Oh my god, Kacchan? -Unknown

Let me fucking explain maybe before you all just gang up on me and make me even more uncomfortable. -deku deck-you

My hag mom threw me out because I wouldn't drop from the Hero Course because it's too 'dangerous' for her liking now. So I'm living in the dorms, if you make fun of my hair, I'll have to kill you because Toru worked hard to make it look good on a time constraint -deku deck-you

I think it looks really good, Kacchan! - Unknown

I will still deck you, Deku, you damn nerd. -deku deck-you

[the camera shows that Katsuki is actually happy and smiling at Midoriya and he's being hugged by Aoyama as Aizawa comes into the room bandaged to the point of looking like a Halloween mummy decoration]

Transcript End

President Megaphone: God fucking dammit, Shouta!

farmer toshi: DAD!

ranch flavored jello: What's wrong?

President Megaphone: He wasn't supposed to start teaching again yet since he's still too injured for Recovery Girl's quirk to work on him.

gay salt: Don't worry, us dorm kids will make sure he doesn't do anything too dangerous.

President Megaphone: Fine, I guess.

3:15 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I'm officially going back in the dorms, Aunt Nemuri came and got me. They knocked my hold down to twelve hours since I threw up since I haven't had anymore nausea or vomiting.

farmer toshi: My stubborn ass is at the store before I go home, do you guys need anything?

President Megaphone: Make sure you pick yourself up things that are liquid for the next couple days while you're on the mend before Recovery Girl can heal you.

farmer toshi: That's the plan. I've already procured blueberry yogurt drinks and silken tofu and soft ice cream and jellies and stuff. I wanted to know before I check out if anyone else needs anything.

gay salt: Yeah, grab me some boiled octopus and crab sticks if you can. I'm craving them.

foil-mecha: jagariko please, whichever one you find.

ranch flavored jello: Enoki, a bunch of them, and thick white bread.

feral cat dad: Just grab some extra jellies.

life is a nightmare: ham, bean sprouts, tofu, and eggs.

pure: Tofu and spam.

schrodinger better run: Milk, bacon, and eggs for my breakfast tomorrow.

nat20: cheese sausages and kimchi ramen, please.

saviour: Just tofu and edamame.

President Megaphone: aloe yoghurt.

farmer toshi: Got it. I'll be home in like a half hour. Be waiting for your groceries.

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: @everyone I've made everyone breakfast! Even you, Shinsou and Mr. Aizawa. I made you two's food liquid for you.

schrodinger better run: Breakfast is eggs, pancakes, bacon, and tofu. I made the pancakes vegan friendly and I tried really hard to make the tofu like sausage for Toru and Ibara!

saviour: Thank you, Pony, I'm sure it'll be good no matter what.

ranch flavored jello: Thanks Pony, you're the best.

schrodinger better run: No problem!

schrodinger better run: And for Mr. Aizawa and Shinsou, I made you two your smoothie bags and some of the juice I made for you!

farmer toshi: Which ones?

schrodinger better run: For you, the vanilla coconut, chocolate peanut butter jelly, and guava orange juice. For Mr. Aizawa, spinach peanut butter banana, citrus berry, and guava orange juice.

feral cat dad: Thank you, pony.

feral cat dad: No, capitalize pony.

feral cat dad: Fucking speech to text.

feral cat dad: Pony. There we go.

schrodinger better run: Love you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: Love you too, kid.

2:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Katsuki, Recovery Girl says she can likely heal you now that you're feeling better.

deku deck-you: Yeah, sure.

3:45 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: You feel okay, Kats?

deku deck-you: Yeah, just tired. I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up for dinner.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Jeez, you get up early. I'll try to run with you tomorrow.

deku deck-you: I'm good running alone, Shinsou.

farmer toshi: Oh, okay.

deku deck-you: I mean, if you wanna, then go ahead, but I know you don't sleep well. Plus you have to rest up so Recovery Girl can heal you.

farmer toshi: I know, but I also know it sucks to run alone sometimes.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Shoot, I slept past my alarms.

deku deck-you: It's fine. As long as you're getting sleep, you don't have to run with me, Shinsou.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Fucking alarms weren't set.

deku deck-you: You needed the sleep, Shinsou. You were up late.

farmer toshi: Fine. But I'll catch you one of these mornings.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I'm getting closer, you early bastard.

deku deck-you: Keep thinking that, Shinsou.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

5:55 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Now you're taunting me.

deku deck-you: You wish. I'm just good at waking up early.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

5:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I JUST MISSED YOU!

farmer toshi: Get back here little bastard!

deku deck-you: shinsousprintingafterhim.jpg

life is a nightmare: What a wholesome ending.

deku deck-you: shinsoufellonme.jpg

President Michael: You good, kids?

deku deck-you: Yeah, we're good. My knee is a little achy but I'll be fine.

farmer toshi: Don't worry, I'll force him back if he's hurt, Uncle Zashi.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yamada hizashi #aoyama yuuga #katsuki bakugou #shinsou hitoshi #fumikage tokoyami #hagakure tooru #aizawa shouta #monoma neito #kuroiro shihai #juzo honenuki #pony tsunotori #ibara shiozaki #snoweywrites #aizawa we agreed no more cats au #tw death mention

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

Text

g isn’t for gun (edited)

ao3 link

content warnings: child abuse, blood, injury, character death

Billy’s back is against the wall in the garage, shelves of Susan’s gardening supples pressing painfully into his spine, taste of his father’s hand lingering in his mouth. The salty hint of the sweat from his open palm, the waxy residue of the polish he’d been using to clean his guns. They’re still here on the workbench, he was interrupted by a call from the school. Billy’s in trouble for truancy again. He’s skipped one too many days and he’s in trouble, and he can still taste the hand of his furious father as it balls into a fist and punches him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. His father’s knuckles plow into his stomach a second time and he could hate himself for the whiny-wimp-bitch noise punted from his throat.

“Do you like making me look like a jackass?” Neil demands. “I think you think you do!”

Billy raises his head and finds his mouth go dry at the thunderous, dangerous look on his father’s face. Any comebacks he had dissolve in his throat and he. He can’t.

“Leave my brother alone!”

Billy looks past his father. There’s Max in the middle of the garage, lily white complexion budding rose red with a roaring anger too big for her body. She’s petite as is and appears even more so in her baggy skater clothes of choice. Her fists are balled too, held up like she actually wants to hit something. That scares him for her sake, for what Billy dreads will happen if she actually dares to throw a tantrum in front of an already irate Neil.

“This doesn’t concern you, Maxine,” his father states clearly and coldly without even turning around.

“Get outta here,” Billy snaps in agreement, glowering pointed daggers.

Because he can picture it in detail so vivid it’s nauseating. Max’s throat in the crook of Neil’s elbow. Eyes flooding with tears as the pressure goes taut. Max coughing and coughing when Dad finally releases, if she isn’t out cold like Billy is sometimes, on the really bad days. Billy returns his attention to his fuming father. Max takes a couple steps back. That's going to be the end of her involvement. Good.

In a distant way Billy admires Max’s grit and yeah, okay, maybe it feels good that she gives a shit about him, but Billy’s private sentiments don’t compare to his fear. His stepsister needs to fuck off for her own safety. He looks back to his father, meeting and holding his gaze with steel. Billy prepares himself for more yelling, then the unmistakeable cock of a gun has them both freezing.

“I said leave him alone!” Max screeches like a falcon, M1911 stretched out in front of her, bluebell eyes burning in defiance.

Now Neil does whip around and for a moment he hesitates, just as taken aback as Billy. His mouth screws open and then his face hardens.

“I said get outta here!” Billy shouts so loud it rips his throat. Max is one goddamn gutsy firecracker and he’d be impressed by the act of rebellion if it wasn’t bound to get them both killed.

Max’s blazing eyes flicker over the blood at the corner of Billy’s mouth and she holds her ground. “No! I’m sick of living like we’re in a prison! I'm sick of living like we have to ask him permission just to fucking breathe!”

“Maxine, you put that down right now or you’re going to be in a world of trouble,” Neil warns, dark and seething.

She responds by pointing it at his head. Neil growls, lurching right toward her. Billy suddenly finds the ability to move. Quick as a viper, he darts in between them, pushing back against his father. For a moment he isn’t entirely sure exactly who he is protecting and then he realizes it’s both of them.

Billy is protecting Max in case she misses. He’s protecting Neil in case she doesn’t.

“Calm down, Dad! She’s fourteen, she doesn’t know what she’s doing!”

“That’s exactly why she needs to put it down!” Neil snarls right in his ear.

“Get outta here, Max!” Billy shouts for the second time, grinding his jaw as he struggles to restrain his infuriated father.

“You ungrateful little brat!“ Neil roars.

“Move, Billy!” Max shouts, finger on the trigger.

And Billy does move but not quite of his own accord. Neil swings an elbow and the next thing he knows, pain bursts through his face. Billy sees stars as his cheek radiates white-hot hurt. Stunned, his grip slips. He stumbles and hurriedly scrambles back between his father and his stepsister, pushing at him again daring to imagine the fight going in his favor, if only he could take Neil on the floor. Before Billy can go forward with the slapdash plan in his head, there’s a noise not particularly unlike a firecracker on the fourth of July. It almost matches the stars as they recede from his vision.

Neil drains pale and suddenly stops resisting. Billy looks back over his shoulder at his stepsister, actually sees the orange flare from the muzzle as she fires again. Giving a startled cry, Max swaggers sideways, arms jolting with the recoil she was all too clearly unprepared for. As far as Billy knows, this is Max’s first time shooting a gun and that one’s definitely too much for her. It’s Max’s first time shooting a gun she isn’t ready for and Billy— Billy realizes her aim, her accuracy, well, without any practice, it’s—

“It was an accident!” Max yips behind him, frantic, nearly as shrill as Susan in her distress. “Shit! Holy shit, Billy, you’re bleeding!”

Billy is struck with the realization of just how shoddy Max’s accuracy is as his efforts to restrain Neil turn into efforts to hold onto him so he doesn’t fall— so he can steady himself and remain upright. Neil doesn’t even push him away. He’s gone strangely silent, ghost white as Billy fists into the collar of his navy blue button-up.

“Yeah,” Billy mutters, vaguely annoyed as he blinks down at the egg sized exit wound cascading crimson into his favorite white muscle tank. The bullet tore right through the thin strap of the sleeve and the pristine white fabric thirstily soaks up all the blood that just keeps pouring. “You shot me.”

No way he’s salvaging this shirt. Strangely, it’s the shirt he’s more concerned about. It doesn’t hurt like Billy thinks it should. He feels like he got stung by a wasp. He watches connecting canals course down his arm, a small scale rain shower of ruby falling from his fingertips and pattering to the concrete. He just watches, numb, flabbergasted, not hurting like he believes he’s supposed to.

“Maxine, go open the truck passenger’s seat.” Neil commands, steely and stern but somehow the boiling rage of mere moments before receding to a different kind of exigency. “Now, hurry up!”

And for all her defiance just as recent, her palatable hate for their shared monster, Max immediately obeys. She slams her palm against the button to open the automatic garage door and limbo bends herself under the aluminum as soon as she can. Darts off, soles of her sneakers swiftly slapping the cement.

“Can I let go of you for a sec?” Neil urges. “Get you a towel?”

“Uh…no. No, sir.” Billy shakes his head. He thinks he’ll fall. He really does. His head is swimming and the bones in his legs are suddenly squishy as gelatin. He also doesn’t actually trust Neil not to go after Max.

“Come on, you can stand by yourself for a second,” Neil argues. “It’s just your shoulder, be a man.”

Against his better judgement, Billy lets Neil let go. The garage door is open now. Billy stares down the driveway and watches Max fling open the passenger door with the hand that isn’t holding the gun. She’s still holding it. Billy doesn’t understand why she’s still holding it but then Neil’s pressing a towel against his shoulder and now— now it does hurt, throbbing all the way to his back with the horrible and just plain bizarre sensation of something grinding like peppercorns beneath his torn flesh. Billy clamps his jaws around the scream in his throat.

“You’re fine, you’re fine,” Neil repeats with every step he shepherds Billy toward the truck. “You’re alright, we’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m really fucking bleeding,” Billy remarks and he’s not sure if he’s arguing or not, if he’s being contrary or simply making an observation.

Max is still there, wild eyed, M1911 foreboding and menacing and awkwardly large in her trembling hand.

“Put that back right now, Maxine,” Neil growls, practically shoving Billy in the passenger’s seat because apparently he’s not moving fast enough by himself. “Put that back and go to your room until your mother comes home!”

Max takes a long look at Neil. Her eyes seem to shake in their sockets.

“I’m sorry, Billy!” she yelps and just like that, she spins on her heel and takes off down the block. As she pistons she picks up speed, legs pumping hard, arms swinging at her sides. She’s running away again. She’s run away before. Twice. This is the third time. Three strikes and she’s out. Billy’s stomach sinks with the dread.

Max is doing everything she shouldn’t be doing and he isn’t going to be able to protect her from the backlash. Not like this. Not this time.

“Maxine! Goddamn it!” Neil shakes a fist after her but makes no move to pursue. He’s still very pale. It makes the flecks of Billy’s blood on his face stand out that much more.

“I’m bleeding,” Billy reminds him and maybe that’s not what he’s supposed to say, not the tough thing to say, not the macho thing to say.

“Dad, there’s blood everywhere,” he continues and he’s trying to be calm. His voice is level and he tries not to sound like he wants to cry even though he kind of does and if he does, Neil’s going to taunt him all the way to the ER for being a pussy-baby-wimp-bitch-loser.

But Billy can’t lift his arm and there’s blood all over. His shirt is ruined and it’s in his jeans now, the towel in his hand has already soaked to the point of uselessness. His head is spinning and he’s terrified of what Neil is going to do to Max. Horrified at the prospect of being unable to do anything about it.

He doesn’t really get along with Susan but Max being spared the full force of Neil’s wrath is one of the few unspoken understandings that exists between them. But Billy isn’t going to be able to hold up his end of the bargain like this, he doesn’t think, or— or maybe. Maybe he can if he redirects Neil’s anger now. If he takes this opportunity to really get under his skin. It’s all that there’s left to do.

“This is all your fault,” Billy accuses when his father finally slides into the driver’s seat.

“Say again?” Neil seems distracted more than taken aback, clumsily fumbling with the keys.

“It’s your fault,” Billy repeats. “Max is just a kid, she didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Horse shit,” Neil growls. “You bet your ass that little brat knew exactly what she wanted to do.”

“Still your fault,” Billy challenges. “She’s right, we can’t even fucking breathe without your permission. You try to control everything…one of us was gonna do this eventually. If not Max then me. Or hell, maybe even Susan would’ve went Linda Couch on your ass.”

“Jesus H. Christ, I always knew you were an ungrateful son of a bitch, but to say something that disrespectful? After everything I’ve done for you, you'd say something like that?” Neil finally jams the key in the ignition, blinking like he’s dazed before he angrily starts the truck. He gives himself a shake as he guns it into the street, tires squealing. Houses blur past and turn into trees.

“Yeah, everything you’ve ever done for me,” Billy sneers. “Beat up my mom—“

“Hey, that whore slung her pussy every which way the wind blows! Hell, for all I know, you’re not even mine!”

“Oh, I’m yours, all right.” Billy rolls his eyes. He’s feeling woozy and his hands are wet and he’s kind of scared now, but not as scared of bleeding as he is scared of what Neil will do to Max if her fails to secure his father’s ire now. She’s in trouble either way, but Billy hopes he at least has a chance to mitigate the pain that’ll come her way if he can get Neil seeing red in his direction.

“Let’s keep going down the list of all the wonderful things you’ve done for me that I should be oh-so grateful for. Let's see, you broke my shit whenever I struck out at Little League practice—“

“You improve under pressure, Billy. That’s just who you are.”

“Broke my actual leg once, do you remember that? Back when I had my paper route?”

“…that was an accident...”

“Pfft. Barely.”

“You were kissing another man’s wife! What I did wasn’t half as bad as what he would’ve done if he’d been the one to catch you.”

Billy just rolls his eyes again. He could go on but Neil beats him to it.

“I fed you, I clothed you, I kept a roof over your head!”

“Right.” Billy huffs hotly, blinking as he lifts the towel to take a peek at his shoulder. “So like, the bare minimum.”

“Don’t get smart with me. You don’t have the faintest idea what it takes to be a parent. What it takes to be a fath—“ Neil breaks off, violently hacking into his hand.

Billy gapes at the saucer of red when Neil’s hand retracts from his mouth, the beads glistening in his facial hair.

“Whoa,” Billy gasps in realization. “Max shot you.”

“…yes.” Neil wipes his palm off on his jeans, shifts his eyes back to the road as he bitterly continues, “It’s a bullet, Billy, it had to go somewhere when it tore outta you. Bullets don’t pop like bubble soap.”

“Holy shit.” Billy has no idea how he didn’t notice. His father’s shirt is darker than his, but still. “Wait, should you be driving?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been shot, William.” Neil keeps his eyes ahead but he’s so pale he’s almost translucent and a foreboding feeling grows deep in the pit of Billy’s stomach.

“Oh, Jesus, not that again.” Billy cackles wildly and it hurts, it sends torturous throbs all down his arms and across his trunk. His ribs stick into him like he's made of mashed potatoes and he cackles maniacally anyway. “You and your stupid wounded warrior bullshit—“

“Don’t you dare insult my service!” Neil forms a fist and Billy knows he’s going to get hit but then his father’s coughing into the curled fingers instead and it sounds wet and he shouldn’t be driving. No way in hell should Neil be driving, they shouldn’t be on the road, this empty road with nothing but trees on either side as the seats soak up their blood.

“I wouldn’t give a flying fuck if you had a hundred purple hearts,” Billy taunts scornfully and he’s never, ever dared to say anything like this at all actually, but if he doesn’t now, he never will and he’s feeling as vindictive as he ever has. His heart is suddenly as light as his head. Above all, he finally feels free and isn't his freedom what Neil supposedly sacrificed for?

Fighting for his freedom, that generously noble thing Neil did that supposedly grants him this unalienable right to pull rank above everybody else?

“You're an asshole, Dad. And I bet you cling to that military bravado because you enjoyed shooting people. Wrap it up in all the red, white, and blue you want, you bastard. I see you, I know who you really are. You’re just some asshole who likes yourself best when you’re hurting other people.”

And even though he’s still coughing and there’s red spurting through his fingers, his father’s eyes meet his and Billy realizes he’s actually hurt him. For the first time in his life, possibly, he’s actually gotten in a dig that had an effect, made a profound impact. For the first time the pain in Neil’s eyes matches his own and Billy revels in it right until the moment they swerve off the road.

Metal crunches like stomping on a beer can. Billy pitches forward, seatbelt biting into him hard, wounded shoulder jarred as his teeth rattle. It happens so fast, the cacophony, the heart-pounding moment of impact.

The moment is. Then Neil is not.

Suddenly the truck’s in a ditch and Neil is undeniably dead, slumped forward in the seat. The horn blares continuously, uninterrupted and earsplitting under the slack weight of his forehead. Billy reaches over and clumsily pulls him off of it just to make it stop. The way Neil’s head lolls creeps him out and makes him want to puke at the same time.

“Yeah, you’re dead alright, you bastard,” he mumbles.

He closes the lids of his father’s blank eyes with a sweep of the hand and swallows against the sight of his own blood smearing across his face. He’s still bleeding. He’s probably dying too. What a fucking crapshoot.

Billy feels cheated. Action heroes on the big screen never die when they get shot in the shoulder. It’s always a flesh wound. But Billy supposes he’s never been the heroic type anyway.

His heart hammers, chest tightening as he realizes he’s graduated from frightened to flat-out fucking terrified. He’s bleeding all over and his injury throbs with a diabolical vengeance. He could be dying. For a moment he thinks maybe he’ll hold his dad’s hand because he’s dead now, and he can’t swat him off, and then Billy realizes how goddamn stupid that is.

“You’re an asshole and I’m not gonna die with you,” he mutters, shifting in his seat, getting his good hand on the door. He gets it open and half-hops-half-falls out of the truck.

Hitting the ground sends a torrent of torment ripping through his shoulder and Billy lets himself scream. Pulls himself up anyway, stumbles to the side of the road with his hand clamped over the bloody egg hole in his flesh, painful sensation of peppercorns grinding together beneath the meat. He wonders if he should just keep walking…if he can keep walking.

Billy’s definitely dizzy now and he feels like he might fall over again because he’s pretty unsteady, uncoordinated. It’s a little harder to breathe than it was a few minutes ago, he thinks. It’s like he can’t catch his breath and maybe that means he’s panicking even though he’s trying not to panic, panicking won’t help and Neil is dead. Neil is dead?

Yeah, Neil’s dead. Billy won’t die with him. He refuses. He at least needs to get away from the truck. If he’s gong to die, it’s going to be at least twenty feet away from his good for nothing, piece of shit father who just got exactly what he deserved. Fuck you, Dad, fuck you and your pretend patriotic freedom fighter bullshit.

Billy prides himself on knowing he hurt him. That their last conversation was one where he was the one to render Neil speechless. The lingering satisfaction gives Billy a boost he uses to push on a bit further. He’s swaying like a porch swing before he sinks to his knees in the grass.

Maybe he just needs a break. He’ll take a break. Catch his breath and then he’ll get up again and…

And walk to town?

Check himself into the ER?

Shit, he’s fucked. Billy is so, so fucked, and the pendulum swings and he’s freaking out again and trying to get up and he never ever should’ve let himself sink, he should’ve known better than to let himself go down because it’s so much harder to get up this time.

Billy wonders about Max. He wonders if she still has Neil’s gun, if she’s still running around with her finger on the trigger. He wonders if she knows she killed Neil. Wonders if she knows she killed Billy because she did, didn’t she?

He can’t get up.

He blames Neil more. Yeah, he blames Neil more. One of them was always going to do something, right?

Billy understands, of course he does, how many times had he thought about doing that himself? How many times had he brought the muzzle to his own mouth and jammed it against his teeth not to die, he didn’t (doesn’t!) want to die, just to get away from Neil.

He’s still thinking about Max when there are headlights and people here, people he knows, Nancy Wheeler and her smoking hot mom. Billy blinks at them blearily, wondering if they’re real. When they begin to pull him up, his ruined shoulder screams and the musky scent of Karen’s perfume wafts over his nose, and it’s all too vivid to be a dream.

“What happened?” Nancy asks, Karen asks. Alarmed. More than once.

“My dad’s dead but it’s not her fault,” Billy explains.

They must know this, if anything, they must know this. If he’s going to die in the backseat, Nancy pressing Karen’s hastily stripped leg warmers to his entrance and exit wounds, then it must be known that he doesn’t blame Max. Because if Billy doesn’t blame Max, then maybe the law won’t blame her either. Maybe somebody already called the cops because sure, some of their neighbors are geriatric and deaf as all hell, but there were two gunshots and a redheaded girl taking off like a bat outta hell with a gun in her hand, and none of it was inconspicuous.

“He made her do it,” Billy emphasizes.

Karen’s pushing the pedal to the metal and burning rubber like a NASCAR champion and god, if Billy didn’t want to roll around with her before— if he survives this, he’s definitely taking her to a motel —but that’s not the point. It’s Neil’s fault. He practically did make her do it. Force her hand because he was just like that and the pressure of living under him just did things to you, Billy knew better than anyone.

“He made her do it, it’s not her fault.”

“We got it,” Nancy promises, voice weirdly jittery considering she doesn’t particularly care for him at school. “We got it, okay? Maybe stop talking and just breathe?”

“Bossy,” Billy mutters.

It is getting harder to breathe. It’s like he can’t hold onto the oxygen long enough before it’s whooshing right out again. Billy doesn’t understand why. He isn’t shot in the chest, it’s his shoulder, just his stupid shoulder, it shouldn’t be screwing up his ability to breathe.

Only maybe being shot isn’t why he can’t breathe, maybe being scared is why he can’t breathe. Because he’s panicking, right? He’s panicking, remember?

Maybe he’s outright having a panic attack. He’s had them before. He tries to drown the memory of them down with whatever he can get his hands on, really. But now he is undeniably scared. Neil is dead and Billy is still fucking scared of what’s going to happen to Max. She has blood on her hands now and they’re not going to let her off the hook for something like that just because she’s a kid, are they?

It’s mostly Neil’s fault but it’s kind of Billy’s fault too.

Max picked up the gun because Neil was going at him. And Neil was going at him because Billy skipped school. But it’s not like following Neil’s rules was ever a guarantee anyway. Fuck it. Sometimes it helped, sure, but sometimes it didn’t do a damn thing, how the hell was Billy ever supposed to know the difference?

Nancy’s speaking to her mother with something urgent in her voice. Billy looks at her hands. Stares at the glaze of red staining her skin up to the wrists as she presses down desperately hard on the sodden leg warmer bundled over his shoulder. He wishes someone would turn the heat on. It’s starting to get cold, which is weird, because the weather is warm and balmy today.

He feels himself drifting by the time they’re at the ER. He’s only rudimentarily aware of the transfer from the Wheelers’ car to the stretcher. His own legs quaking under his weight and other hands on him. He makes it onto the thing with help and then there’s a shit ton of people in his face. They’re mostly yakking at each other and not him, but there are a few questions fired in his direction.

Billy manages his name and phone number and repeats as much of the story he’s sticking to as he can. It wasn’t Max’s fault. Neil made her do it.

More or less, that’s the truth.

* * *

Billy feels weird. Surreal and vaguely nauseous. The lady in scrubs is so short, she’s perhaps not even five feet. Stocky and rounded with pudge next to Susan who stands nearly six and lithe— not in the least because Neil always rode her ass about staying a trim, presentable trophy wife —it’s sort of like staring at a shetland pony beside a hanoverian horse. Billy doesn’t mean to say this out loud, but he thinks he does because after the thought concludes, Scrubs scowls and Susan pinches the bridge of her nose.

“I know equines,” he mumbles. “My mom took me to the fair…”

He remembers it. That big barn with metal box fans and a rainbow of ribbons next to the horse’s names on the stalls. Mom holding his hand steady and making sure he kept his fingers flat so they wouldn’t get chomped by the velvety lips seeking treats in his palm. He remembers the warm scents of hey and alfalfa swirling together, wafting up his nose, the horses’ tails like paintbrushes swatting at insects fluttering by.

“Billy, I know you’re groggy, but can you focus for me?” Susan asks, lowering her hand. “Please?”

Billy blinks at her, shrugs his shoulders— tries to, anyway. It prompts a spike of pain through the left and well, of course it does. He got shot. That’s right, Max shot him. Wow. He wets his lips with his tongue and glances down, tracing languid fingertips over the thick bandaging.

“Feels kinda heavy…” Billy wonders how many layers there are for it to feel this heavy, just how much gauze and batting separate his fingertips from his wounds.

“You had surgery, hon,” Scrubs explains gently. “We had to repair an arterial bleed and the bullet broke your scapula.”

“My spatula,” Billy agrees hazily, attempting to blow a low whistle that comes out as more of a rasp. “Whoa…shit, surgery? S’it serious?”

In theory, being shot sounds kind of badass. Neil always talked like a badass when he showed his scars off. But Billy’s stomach is sinking, worry already resurfacing from the murky lake of his mind.

“It could’ve been much worse.” Scrubs gives him a pat on his good shoulder Billy thinks is supposed to be reassuring. Her hands are unpleasantly clammy and he blinks dazed eyes against the touch.

“Billy, where is Maxine?” Susan prompts, worriedly nibbling her lip.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Billy defends, vehement. “She didn’t mean to. Neil…”

Neil’s dead.

That’s right, Neil is dead. Billy snapped at him. And then he died. And a few things happened in between that. He shouldn’t have been driving. Why didn’t he just call an ambulance instead?

“…it’s his fault.”

“But where did she go?” Susan asks, each word spoken slow, voice a mix of fear and frustration. “It’s been hours and she still hasn’t come home.”

“Hours?” Billy echoes, blinking rapidly. “What?”

Doesn’t feel like hours. Maybe like, one hour tops since he’s been here. They asked him questions. They gave him an oxygen mask he tried to fight off until he realized how much better it made breathing. He was cold. It wasn’t Max’s fault.

“Ma’am,” Scrubs interrupts. “Your son isn’t—“

“She’s not my mother,” Billy declares at the same time Susan corrects, “S-Stepson.”

They stare at each other for a moment and Susan anxiously rubs her hands together.

“Do you have any idea where Max went, Billy?” she pleads. “This is very important.”

“No…but it’s not her fault. She owes me a new shirt…but she didn’t mean it. Neil was scaring her, Max just…” Billy trails off, worried about saying too much. Who knows who’s listening.

Susan sighs softly and glances away, visibly uncomfortable.

“I’ll help you look for her,” he decides.

It’ll be much better if he and Susan find Max before she gets picked up by a cop.

“Oh, um…don’t worry about it.” Susan shakes her head. “The Wheelers brought you in, I know she goes to school with their boy, um…I suppose I’ll start there.”

“I’ll help you,” Billy insists because he was there, so his input is going to be key in keeping Max out of trouble.

“That’s not necessary.” She gives him a dubious look.

“You don’t think I can?” Billy challenges. “Psh. M’not a wimp, Susan, s’just my…my spatula? Gimme five minutes and I’ll be good to go.”

He just needs to find his shoes, or something. New shirt. Shirt and shoes. No shirt, no shoes, no service.

“Alright then, Billy,” Susan concedes to him, never was much for arguing. Shares a look with Scrubs and runs a hand through her hair. “You take your five minutes. I’ll pull the car around.”

Billy bobs his head, glad for her cooperation. He’s out and around more than Susan is, he has a better mental map of the town and where Max hangs out. Not only is it better for Billy to find Max because he was there, but Susan is bound to find her faster with his geographical guidance. Billy might be a little banged up but he’s not some useless coma patient. Max needs him to help find her and say whatever he can to keep her free. Max freed them from Neil and Billy is going to make sure free is how she stays, that one snap decision she made scared won’t end in their household prison exchanged for a brick-and-mortar one.

Billy waits until Susan leaves the room to close his eyes. He isn’t going to sleep. He definitely isn’t. He swears to himself he won’t. He just needs a moment to collect himself. Only a minute or two, just to get his bearings…

#my fic tag #billy hargrove #max mayfield #neil hargrove #susan hargrove #fixed this #mostly #here u go #i have too many wip but this was halfway a prompt so

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

Text

Amount of writing I’m getting done for OT and my IZ fic: Some.

Amount of writing I’m getting done for self-indulgent bullshit: Somewhat more.

Anyway, wrote out Bella meeting Sir Pentious because I was bit by the muse bug. This is written for the four people who know who they both are, f.

Wordcount: 2075

The second she saw the airship soaring through the red-tinted sky, shooting anything that looked at it funny, Bella knew she had to get inside of it. Let Kit flirt with their host (or, if she was honest, fail to flirt with, man, she didn’t even like flirting and even she knew that he turned into a pile of goopy mush when he was around a guy he thought was cute) and let Vee attempt to kidnap yet another animal to try and smuggle home, she wanted to find out who the heck made a steam-powered airship in the twenty-first century.

Or maybe Hell was actually stuck in the year 1900, who knew? Time probably passed funny in the afterlife, but the fact that nobody had shot them out of the sky yet said that there was something else afoot- the pilot had to have some way of warding off attacks considering rivals probably had, like, grenade launchers, and she wanted to find out how. Style merged with substance, ruling the air with confidence- and she wanted in.

“Hey! Hey you!” She flagged down somebody with four arms and purple fur who looked short enough to be less likely to punt her into orbit- Mom had warned that most people down here were mean as, well, Hell- and pointed up at the ship. “What’s the deal with those?”

“You a newly dead?” The demon raised one of their four eyes, and Bella nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, newly dead. Anyway. Story?”

“They’re made by Sir Pentious, one of the Overlords. He’s some kinda inventor, I’unno. Never blew up anything that mattered to me, so I never cared that much.”

“Sir Pentious…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, plucking the ‘T’ in the middle thoughtfully along with the rubber bands wrapped around her braces. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Er- you’re welcome.” They darted off, but that was fine. Now it was just a matter of actually getting onboard.

____________

She couldn’t find a rocket pack anywhere- lousy Hell lagging behind Earth technologically- but ended up stumbling across the next best thing in a warehouse that had an extra ship that had clearly been in some sort of accident. This one was only partially-reassembled, and there was a lot of burn damage sustained to the aluminum and copper outside, but that just meant that she could see the skeleton without having to slice through a lot of layers, so it was almost better- and a lot easier to crawl in one of the big holes in the front window via a pile of parts in front of it.

The interior was decorated like a mansion, with vivid yellows, reds, and blacks- she could respect the commitment to the aesthetic, especially with torn-open snakesheds and red eyeballs plastered everywhere. It looked like something out of Mom’s old comic book collection, toxic and yet intoxicating, every detail chosen for maximum dramatic potential. It must look even better with all the lights on and more than her phone’s flashlight illuminating bits at a time.

It was the best playground that she could imagine- nothing but her and a massive ship the size of an apartment building. Oddly enough, there wasn’t much dust- maybe it had crashed recently and was being held here for repairs? It was certainly of a similar design to the one that she’d seen from the ground, so she couldn’t imagine that it wasn’t just an iteration or two away.

Her fingers ran over the sleek machinery like it was sacred- some of it looked like it belonged in a museum, but the rest was cutting edge, and the seamless way they blended was like something out of a dream. A genius indeed- if she’d been born a hundred years ago and was suddenly thrust into the modern day, she could only hope that her tech would look this good. There was room for improvement of course, there always was, but it was loads better than most of what she saw digging through the junkyard, and a lot closer to the stuff she made with Grandpa Zim using his irken tech. Impressive for someone who’d clearly been dead for some time, considering he’d made enough of a name for himself that some rando off the street knew it.

“Genius inventor, huh…?” Bella pulled out her screwdriver, starting to work on freeing the control panel. It had a touchscreen and levers, what was that about? She had to know what it looked like underneath- did Hell even use cables and wires or was she going to need to drag Kit in to do his magic business here?

It took some doing- whatever had taken this particular ship down had welded the panel into place and it took a crowbar to pry off, ha, take that Venus for saying she ‘didn’t need to bring it’- but eventually she got into the guts of the thing. Sure enough, it was wiring, spiraled all into itself in a knot- it must have gotten all messed up at some point, maybe that was what caused the crash on top of whatever burnt the outside?

She was about to start taking it apart when she heard a pitter-patter behind her.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it, ya know,” she said, rummaging around in her pocket before pulling it out. “Mom insisted I bring the one that can vaporize people since apparently half of you can’t even die the normal way anyway? Bunch of freaks.” Her finger twitched towards the trigger as the pitter-patter became a shadow as the thing scrambled up towards the same hole she’d come in. “I’m warning you, I’m a great shot. Won’t take two to blow your brains out.”

“Whoever you are, bossman says you gotta go!”

It was an egg. Not like some kind of insult, it was literally an egg, and probably a third of her size. It was also wearing a little hand-tailored suit and top hat. She stared down at it, and it stared up at her.

“Who’s bossman?” Bella asked after a few very long seconds of silence.

“You know… bossman!” It blinked. “He doesn’t like people pokin’ around his cool, cool stuff and you tripped the motion sensor. Hey, is that a ray gun?”

Bella’s finger eased off the trigger. “Yeah, it is. It can probably scramble you.”

“Oooh! Fun! Not as good as boss’s, I’m sure, but-”

“Hey, what say you take me to this boss?” Bella crouched down, knowing this was incredibly stupid but also already entirely committed to it. “Then he can decide what to do with me in person.”

“Hmm… alright, but no funny business!” The egg looked her up and down before turning heel, starting to clamor down the pile of parts. She had to hold back a snort when she saw that it had ‘#69’ written on its back.

Some things never changed no matter where you went.

____________

The egg blabbered on all the way back to the ship, mostly about jazz music oddly enough, but soon enough they were nearing a different ship that had settled behind a building. It was either the one she’d seen before or a duplicate, and she felt a shiver run up her spine as she got close- it looked a lot cooler in one piece and lit up bright yellow. Her phone buzzed, and she discreetly pulled it out as the egg launched into a diatribe on the importance of the saxophone. It was a text from her sister.

dolittle 🐭: bells where ARE you

dolittle 🐭: kits distracting clove so I could grab one of those bugdog things but moms gonna be asking how were doing soon, what should I say

Bella thought for a moment before sending back a reply. ‘im checking out that airship we saw earlier. have weapons. ill be fine. meet you back at the cafe later’

dolittle 🐭: be careful ok? know you can handle it but still

Bella smiled a little at that, sending a thumbs up before tucking her phone back into her pocket as they ascended the bridge.

“And then, then he saysss to me, he sayssss- Ah, there you are! Good, good.” She heard him before she saw him, voice booming as he welcomed his hench-egg back. “And what was poking around the warehouse?”

“This, boss!” The egg tugged at her jeans by the knee around the corner before pushing her forward with surprising force. “They said they wanted to see you!”

“Well well well!”

Bella’s antennae twitched as her eyes widened. The man in front of her was a jet black snake, with fangs, a top hat, a bowtie, and eyes on his face as well as nestled on the open space on his chest and hood. Best she could pin from Venus’s nature lectures he was a cobra of some sort, and there was a smug fang-y grin on his face as he slithered up to her, taking advantage of the height that his tail gave him- he’d probably be seven feet easy to Bella’s mere five foot one.

It took her only a moment to shake off her awe. “So you’re the famous Sir Pentious!”

His grin widened. “Ah! You’ve heard of me, little tresssspassser?”

“Obviously, considering I knew your name, right?”

“Er- yes!” He faltered for just a moment, and she went in for the kill.

“Your work’s fantastic, but you really need a way to keep the gutty stuff in order in case of a hit- that’s probably part of why that other ship went down, y’know? But your sense of design and how you mold your century-old designs with the new stuff- it’s fantastic, I just want to cut it all open and see how it works.”

“What did you do?” His hood flared, and she twirled the gun in her hands.

“I only touched the control panel, and your little egg boy got at me before I messed with anything, but I’d give anything for a couple of days working on the interior of this place- I bet I could make it run faster and with less fuel.”

The eye on his hat rolled itself as he narrowed the eyes on his face. “Who are you to come in and think you know better than I about my own shipssss? I should end you right here for your insolence and your trespassing!”

Bella folded her arms, glancing around. “Hmm… far left column, the one with a yellow eye instead of a red one.”

“What about it?” He folded his arms as well, waggling his head. “Are you-”

“It’s welded weird. Something went wrong with the metal when it was being forged, so you put it in the back so you wouldn’t have to look at it. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good column because somebody screwed up one little part. And that’s just what I see looking around in, like, five seconds- gah!” The end of his tail had wrapped around behind her while she’d been talking, and struck before she finished her sentence, lifting her up to his eye-level with her arms pinned to her sides.

“Little wrench! How dare you?”

“I’m…” Her legs kicked a little, ribs feeling uncomfortably bendy at the moment as his scales pressed against her chest and back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

His tongue darted out as he hissed, just barely brushing her nose before sliding back into his mouth.

“What do you really want, missy? I don’t like competition, you know.”

“You to let me breathe, for one,” she wheezed, fingers turning to try tickling what she could reach, and his cheek twitched funny before she dropped bodily to the floor, only managing to roll in time thanks to muscle memory from combat training. Thanks, Grandpas. “I really do just wanna see how all your stuff works. The ways I could improve my own inventions if I just could figure out how to blend different functionalities the way that you do...”

“I am quite impresssssive, aren’t I?” He puffed up his chest a bit. “And you have no intention to-”

Bella drew an X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You’re the bossman.”

He looked her up and down. “Hmm. Get back to me when you have a proper uniform and not those ragssss, and I suppose I could show you around a bit, if- if!- you show me something of yourssss. ”

Bella’s grin slipped into a smirk as she gave a bow. “Bella Donna at your service, then, Sir Penny.”

#iz #shadow writes stuff #hh

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loucifieri · 6 years

Text

To Hell and Back (v3 HPA AU)

[Part 1]

It’s a bigger hot mess than the previous one lol

04/21/18 09:21PM

ShirogaNYEH: welcome back! previously, Akamatsu-san creates a group chat, Ouma-kun uses it to stir some shit and in the end, a subtle confession was made!

starlord: shirogane what the heck weve been chatting continuously

Maki Roll: yeah what are you even going on about

ShirogaNYEH: but it's not the same case with the audience

starlord: what audience??

Lord Panta: can we go back to my moment

chaotic lesbean: no go away

Lord Panta: ANYWAY

Lord Panta: is it true Saihara-chan??

Lord Panta: do you find me irresistible?

The Only Hope For Me Is You: I wouldn't use that adjective but yeah

The Only Hope For Me Is You: you're hard to ignore

Lord Panta: !!!!!!

The Only Hope For Me Is You: since you constantly demand attention

The Only Hope For Me Is You: You're like an annoying itch that just won't go away

starlord: ooooh SHOT DOWN

Treblemaker: Damn Shuichi-kun, didn't think you would be a harsh heartbreaker

Do You Believe In Magic: lol rip........

Maki Roll: good job saihara

Lord Panta: I

Lord Panta: …

Lord Panta: that's hot

dumb blonde slut: haha the purple twink is obviously a bottom

Lord Panta: bitch it takes one to know one :)

dumb blonde slut: eek n-no im not

starlord: he didnt even deny it

Robot Rights Activist: I backlogged and I seem to recall you express dissatisfaction over your assigned nickname, Iruma-san

Robot Rights Activist: Why haven't you changed it yet?

Lord Panta: coz she actually likes it, duh

dumb blonde slut: piss off cockichi

dumb blonde slut: awww kibs ur concerned!! i always knew u were in love with me

Robot Rights Activist: I do not.

Treblemaker: yeouch

starlord: so many crushed hearts tonite

Lord Panta: EAT SHIT AND DIE DUMB BLONDE SLUT

Treblemaker: Hey! No attacking!

Imma meme: you literally attacked me moments ago smh

Kork: This is a mess.

dumb blonde slut: dont get ur panties in a twist, idiot virgins

dumb blonde slut: the great iruma miu is too gorgeous 2 be affected by this shit

dumb blonde slut: im hella gay anyway

chaotic lesbean: you go Iruma-san!!

Robot Rights Activist: Still, I apologize if I came across as rude in any way! It was not my intention.

dumb blonde slut: dont beat urself too much over it kibs

Treblemaker: Aww Iruma-san really has a soft spot for Idabashi-kun

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Uh, Kaede-san, I assume you have your headphones on because I've been knocking on your door for awhile now and you haven't shifted from your position to indicate that you will answer the door.

ShirogaNYEH: truly a detective,,,

Treblemaker: oh shit sorry!!

chaotic lesbean: AND WHAT IS A DEGENERATE LIKE YOU DOING IN THE FEMALE AREA OF THE DORM THIS LATE AT NIGHT

Treblemaker: It's fine Chabashira-san!! Shuichi-kun usually comes over so we can gossip or whatever

chaotic lesbean: WHAT??? USUALLY??????

Maki Roll: wow Saihara, you managed to sneak past chabashira several times already, im impressed

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Thank you Harukawa-san! I feel validated.

Lord Panta: is there really NOTHING going on between you two

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Kaede-san is my bestfriend??

Treblemaker: Yeah, why does that bother you so much Ouma-kun?

Kork: He likely feels envious of your relationship.

Lord Panta: lol no

starlord: sure jan

Lord Panta: quick question what are yall sexual orientations

imma meme: im fabulously gay

chaotic lesbean: isn't it obvious

dumb blonde slut: dont have 2 repeat myself

Do You Believe In Magic: ace...... sexual attraction is tiring.........

ShirogaNYEH: same!!

Kork: as am I.

Treblemaker: Actually, I'm Bi but I tend to prefer girls

starlord: well since were being honest ok im bi too

Maki Roll: same

Gokuhara Gonta: Gonta loves all!! And Hoshi-kun says he's Ace!

Treblemaker: Gonta-kun, it's getting really late. You and Hoshi-kun should start heading back here.

Gokuhara Gonta: Of course, Akamatsu-san!

Imma meme: spoken like another mom

Treblemaker: >:(

Robot Rights Activist: My attraction is not affected by one's sexual orientation

bitch I am the WAY: Angie is pan!~

The Only Hope For Me Is You: I'm gay

Lord Panta: YES!!!!

Maki Roll: wow he was not subtle AT ALL

Treblemaker: What about you @Mother Knows Best?

imma meme: why do you want to know (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

Treblemaker: It wouldn't be fair to leave out someone from a question addressed to everyone!

Treblemaker: also, another word amami and im bashing your head with a shot put ball

ShirogaNYEH: go get em Akamatsu-san!

imma meme: im having war flashbacks

Mother Knows Best: Thank you for your consideration, Akamatsu-san. Apologies for not replying the soonest as I had to attend to some last minute errands. To answer your query, my preference is of the same sex.

Lord Panta: okay cool thank you for your input everyone!!!

Maki Roll: you only wanted to know one person's tho

dumb blonde slut: how about bull balls what do u think his orientation is

starlord: are you referring to great gozu??

dumb blonde slut: yea dumbass

dumb blonde slut: oh fuck those huge man tits,,,

dumb blonde slut: annsd heds a wretslerr he g ets all sewaTYyna d

chaotic lesbean: OK TENKO HAS HEARD ENOUGH

Maki Roll: Iruma shut the fuck up

bitch I am the WAY: Angie hears moaning again and it is very disturbing~~

Treblemaker: To think our rooms are billed as soundproof...

The Only Hope For Me Is You: I am effectively traumatized tonight.

ShirogaNYEH: we need to take this up with the headmaster!!

imma meme: uhhh its kinda weird to explain how we discovered the walls arent entirely soundproof

imma meme: “our classmate was masturbating too loudly to thoughts about our homeroom teacher's man boobs”

Kork: Let us not prolong this discussion. Can someone take care of that horrid excuse of a human being.

bitch I am the WAY: oh, she has stopped

bitch I am the WAY: Ah, Angie hears loud noises of struggle

bitch I am the WAY: then some shuffling outside the hallway

bitch I am the WAY: it is dead quiet now

chaotic lesbean: what just happened

chaotic lesbean: Tenko was terrified to peek outside

Treblemaker: Harukawa-san we talked about this

Maki Roll: what? I didn't kill her

Hoshi Ryoma: yo

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Hello Hoshi-kun

Hoshi Ryoma: just got back in the dorm with gokuhara

Hoshi Ryoma: he want back to his room but

Hoshi Ryoma: im still in the lounge room rn

Hoshi Ryoma: im seein tojo with a gagged and immobile iruma wrapped in a blanket being dragged across the room to the front door

Hoshi Ryoma: tojo just dumped her out

Lord Panta: NISHISHISHI PUNISHMENT TIME

chaotic lesbean: :O

imma meme: what an ICON

Treblemaker: woah thats hot

bitch I am the WAY: she is doing Atua's work~~

Mother Knows Best: I was merely disposing of the trash.

Do You Believe In Magic: …..tnx mom........

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Best mom!

starlord: shouldn't that include ouma tho

Lord Panta: suck my dick spaceman

Robot Rights Activist: Language!

Lord Panta: da hell keeboy it wasnt even that crass

Gokuhara Gonta: Oh no! What has been going on here, friends?

chaotic lesbean: NOTHING! PLEASE CARRY ON WITH YOUR NORMAL NIGHTLY ROUTINE

starlord: hey gonta, buddy, do me a favor and dont backlog

Gokuhara Gonta: Alright, Momota-kun!

ShirogaNYEH: Gonta-kun should not be tainted in any way!!

ShirogaNYEH: we should probably let Iruma-san inside now though

Lord Panta: are you in league with the DEVOL

Maki Roll: not like you're any better

Mother Knows Best: Very well. I suppose she has learned her lesson, at least for this moment.

Imma meme: well this was wild

Treblemaker: Let's not talk about this ever again

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Group chats tend to spiral down into levels of insanity the longer we spend time in it

Kork: Might I suggest a more... family-friendly topic?

Treblemaker: What is it, Shinguji-kun?

Kork: Ghosts in Hope's Peak

starlord: FUCK NO

bitch I am the WAY: hmmm what about nicknames for Gonta and Ryoma!~

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Good idea, Angie-san

Gokuhara Gonta: Oh yes! Gonta is excited on what name friends will gift him!

Imma meme: okay we better not fuck this up then

Lord Panta: allow me~

Maki Roll removed Lord Panta from the chat

starlord: lol sniped again

imma meme: DEADT

chaotic lesbean: noone must ruin this special moment!!

Do You Believe In Magic changed Gokuhara Gonta to Good Noodle

imma meme: yumeno-san is our name-changing cryptid

Good Noodle: Thank you Yumeno-san! Gonta loves this nickname!

ShirogaNYEH: im,,, CRYING

chaotic lesbean: you're doing amazing, sweetie

Do You Believe In Magic changed Hoshi Ryoma to quail egg

ShirogaNYEH: s m o l b e a n

quail egg: NO

imma meme: hoshi-kun can literally punt us to the sun let's not baby him

starlord: not to mention that hes got a deeper voice than the rest of us guys

starlord: its so manly

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Momota-kun, your gay is showing

Treblemaker: Yay! Now everyone's got a nickname.

Treblemaker: We should probably add Ouma-kun back here.

quail egg: respectfully disagree

chaotic lesbean: you are too nice akamatsu-san!!!

ShirogaNYEH: funny how we somehow end up kicking Ouma-kun out the chat then add him later towards the end of the chapter...

starlord: ????

Treblemaker added Lord Panta to the chat.

Do You Believe In Magic changed Lord Panta to notto disu shitto agen

notto disu shitto again: i feel loved

dumb blonde slut: THE GREAT IRUMA MIU IS BACK YA DUMB VIRGINS

Maki Roll: fuck go back

Kork: This is the 10th Circle of Hell.

Mother Knows Best: I would like to inform everyone that the time is now five minutes past eleven in the evening. I believe this is the ideal time for all of us to get some rest as we have a class on Physical Education early morning.

Imma meme: omg I hate PE

notto disu shitto agen: but moooooom

Mother Knows Best: All of you go to sleep or I will not make breakfast for everyone tomorrow.

notto disu shitto agen: okay okay jeez

dumb blonde slut: yes mommy

starlord: aight mom

bitch I am the WAY: Apparently, Angie must postpone here sacrificial ritual tonight~~

ShirogaNYEH: awww I wont binge watch anime tonight then

Do You Believe In Magic: ….....good nyt...................

chaotic lesbean: Sleep well yumeno-chan <3

Do You Believe In Magic: …...........nyeh <3

Good Noodle: Goodnight everyone!

quail egg: night

dumb blonde slut: nyt cocksuckers

The Only Hope For Me Is You: Good night, all!

notto disu shitto agen: hey saihara-chan are you back at your room can i come over :v

The Only Hope For Me Is You: nah I'm sleeping over Kaede-san's tonight

notto disu shitto agen: WHAT

chaotic lesbean: WHAT

Mother Knows Best: Saihara-san, I am afraid I will have to escort you out. Now.

Imma meme: oof

nickname guide notto disu shitto agen: Ouma The Only Hope For Me Is You: Saihara Treblemaker: Akamatsu bitch I am the WAY: Yonaga starlord: momota shirogaNYEH: shirogane Mother Knows Best: tojo imma meme: amami Maki Roll: harukawa Do You Believe In Magic: yumeno chaotic lesbean: chabashira Kork: shinguji Robot Rights Activist: idabashi dumb blonde slut: iruma Good Noodle: gokuhara quail egg: hoshi

NDRV3 HPA AU Character Design Masterlist here and background information here [Facebook] [Instagram] [Twitter] [Blogger] [Kofi]

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sending-the-message · 6 years

Text

You Can See It Through the Cracks by SprocketSaga

I’m home from school by 3:40 pm if I run, which I always do. I have two hours to search the house and then hide my tracks: Mother will return by 5:35, bringing Tommy from daycare and groceries for the day. She’ll have packages “from the butcher” that bleed fresh juice through the plain brown paper, and there will be no labels. I will pretend not to notice.

I’ve been searching for three months now. That’s about when Tommy moved into my room, and he talks in his sleep. That put things in perspective, made me think back on all the little moments I hadn’t had a place for. How do you define a slow-burn thought, something that wriggles its way from suspicion into certainty? And what do you do when you can’t get rid of it?

I have to know.

There’s rot in a twisted person that seeps through the cracks. They can smile, they can joke, they can take their children on bright picnics in the cold September daylight but they can’t plug every leak. Across the checkered picnic blanket, Mother smoothed the blue cotton of her sundress but I could see her wiry hands wring the hem as if searching for a neck. I said nothing, asked Father to pass the egg salad.

I’m on my own against a house full of monsters. I rarely sleep at night since Tommy moved in with me. He lies in the bed across the room, and in the black hours I can hear him whisper his vile thoughts, things no sixth-grader should hear – let alone her five-year-old brother. Tonight he wants to know how my intestines taste, wants to know if the fat of my arm will sizzle on the spit roast and if it will still be crackling, bubbling, salty when he tears at the muscles with his sharp, greedy teeth.

I couldn’t search at all that day. They came home early, said we were going out for a nice picnic dinner while the weather held. I had to wait till Tuesday to search Father’s dresser, to check the wood for false panels, the stitches and pockets of his jeans for notes, stains, razor blades, anything. I have to be meticulous, and precise: a single paper replaced wrong could tip them off, and then who knows what they would do.

I was in the kitchen two days later, helping Father with supper as he prodded the roast “beef,” ready for carving. His fingers lingered on the flesh and the blade, his eyes glazed longingly across the meat, and I knew he was savoring the moment where he would cut, and the blood would ooze from the seam. How many people has he cut to pieces, and how can he not spill a drop on his perfect starched-white shirts?

They can see me watching. They know I’m not like them, and they’re trying to change me. I eat all of the “meat” they serve for dinner, I tell them it’s delicious, and that night I stay very silent when vomiting it out.

Whenever Tommy picks a fight I’m the one who gets in trouble, like they’re mad that I won’t hurt back. Last time Father spanked me, sent me to bed early. I slept huddled under the bed, terrified, wondering if this was the night they give up on me. Wondering if tonight’s the night that Father comes in with the cleaver and drags me to the butcher block, splits me top to bottom and pulls out my guts, dumps them into the skillet while our cat swats at the pieces that drag along the floor.

I don’t know how long I have, but I need something concrete, something that will lock them away forever. Father’s dresser was the final spot on the main floor. All that’s left is the basement, and I think I know where.

I’ve been avoiding it. The door behind the freezer, sandwiched in the corner against the damp concrete walls. The door that bangs, creaks, thrashes on its hinges. Something’s behind the cracks of that door. Maybe someone. At nights, when we are all together, there’ll be a shudder, or a moaning from the basement. A loud slam against the walls, the pipes, the guts of the house, and Mother will give Father a pointed look and he will pull a key from under the kitchen sink. He’ll disappear into the basement and the sounds will shut off like a switch.

Several days later, new moans come from the crack beneath the door, echo through the house, but only when I am alone. Their next victim? Some new poor soul that I can’t save – or haven’t been willing to? All this time I’ve searched the house for bloody knives or gnawed bones, twisted photos or a scalp of hair, because I’d rather find those. I’m not sure I can handle finding a mutilated corpse, and I know that I can’t handle finding someone staring back at the coward who could have saved them.

I am haunted by his eyes. In my dreams the captive rattles and moans and the whirr of the freezer shuts off; the concrete crunches underfoot as I reach the door and turn the knob. It creaks open, and I see a man or woman, naked, scarred, blood and pus oozing from opened creases in their gray skin. I stand in the doorway and they look back, and a million guilts pass between us. It’s my fault, I let this go on, I could have stopped it. I could have saved him, or the woman before him, or the five before that. And in that moment, me standing and him lying, dying in the dirt, I hear the back door and I turn in time to see Mother at the top of the stairs, drawing out her knife.

I wake, drenched in sweat and frozen to my core. Mother is calling me to wake up or I’ll be late for school – I hear the ice woven through her singsong voice. I smell the “bacon” and eggs. I lie back in bed. There are no other places left to search: today I’ll have to open the door.

At the breakfast table, I pick around the meat but they are waiting. I have to eat it. I choke on the strip the first time, the second as well, it’s so stringy and gamey and oh someone help me, I can feel the strands of flesh. I gag and they look at me, false concern hiding their contempt.

Father asks if I’m okay. I look pale this morning, he says.

“I’m fine, Father.” They glance at each other, a quick flick of the eyes, and I know they are not convinced. I want to scream. I am so sick of being toyed with.

Tommy reaches over from his high chair, a tiny fat fist offering me his own broken pieces. “Sissy don’ be sad, you can hav–” and then he screams. I’ve twisted his hand, shoved him away, and he’s slipped out of the chair. I’m already running from the table.

Father comes to me at the back door as I’m tying my shoes. I can still hear Tommy wailing into Mother’s shoulder, the sick little bastard. He wants them to hurt me. I’m sure they do, too.

He asks if I want to talk about it.

I don’t respond. I can’t look up at him, don’t want to know what mad glint I’ll see in his expression. I brace for the hit, the slice, for him to punt me down the stairs and lock me behind the door. It’s only a matter of time before I’m next.

He asks about the last few days. Asks about school. Says he and Mother are worried. His voice is smooth – syrupy. Is there something you want to tell us, he says. I say nothing. I’m done acting for them, done hiding.

The phone rings, Mother calls from the other room, Rayou, that’s the office. He checks his watch, I hear him sigh. Here it comes. Spare me the prelude, stop making me squirm, just do it already.

He tells me he needs to go, but we’ll talk tonight. Then he says that he loves me. And he kisses me on the forehead before walking out the front door. I wait until he’s gone to scratch frantically at the spot he touched.

It has to be today. They’re going to do it tonight, going to kill me or torture me or peel my skin away and replace all my parts with something else. It has to be today.

I run harder than I ever have on the path home from school. The living room is quiet, silent, the air thick with forced serenity. I walk past the pastel throw pillows and wall hangings, cutesy pictures of our family. I see myself alone in every photo, among gleaming nightmare eyes and pointed, slicing, bloodstained teeth. A moan comes from the basement and I slip the backpack from my shoulders.

It thuds against the carpet, and an answering knock comes back from below. I set my lunchbox down, pull my jacket off and drop it behind me on the way to the stairwell. It’s been a drizzly fall day and I’ve tracked mud across the white carpet. Oh well. No point behaving any longer. They kill me today if I can’t get out.

I pull the key from under the sink.

The moaning and thudding gets worse as I enter the dining room. My shoes squeak on the hardwood floor and every sound could be Mother, home early because she knows, they know, and I don’t have the time. I know I don’t. I’m not strong enough for this but I have to do it now.

The wet air crawls across my hands when I crack the basement door. It’s like walking into water, into rot, and the walls are slick with dew or damp or maybe blood. My feet are shaking and I skid on the steps; I have to hold the hand rail as I stammer my way down. Another moan, inhuman, agony. Another step down. Again I fight the urge to turn back, to run. I reach the bottom and a wave of nausea hits me, from a stench I can’t smell but know is there, must be there.

I could dash back up into the light. Stay with a friend. Hide in a closet until Father stops looking. But he won’t. They won’t ever let me go. And even if they did, I owe it to the next person behind this door. Even if I can’t save this one.

Another step across the cold floor. Another hacking gasp from behind the door, a thud, a stammer, a flutter of the heart. Every noise is a punch to the gut, a wild guess at what torture lurks behind it. I get flashes, ideas of what Mother or Father or, please God, not Tommy have been doing to this one. Lashings? Beatings? Screws in the flesh or weights on the chest or endless razor-slash games on the puckered canvas of skin?

I reach the door and it falls silent. I turn the key, but can’t bring myself to open it. They use razors, I just know it. Dark drops pooling on the thin slices, intricate red lines across his naked body and when he twists in pain, the cuts tear open and it flows everywhere, it can’t clot, not fast enough and they eagerly lick it clean, red, salty, don’t make me look, I don’t want to know, but I do, I have to, I have to know, and maybe after everything else that’s why I finally throw open the door.

It’s a tiny room, four by four feet. A water heater. Pipes leading out into the house, a single blinking light, then the tank kicks on and shudders to life, rattling the pipes. The new water flowing through sounds like a rushing or a roaring or a moaning.

A moaning. Oh, God.

I punch the tank at least twice, maybe three times. No, no, no, I scream, I cry, I wail. I slip and fall over, slump against the doorframe with my hand still on the hot metal, utterly spent. Utterly lost. No.

I’m still there when Mother finds me. There’s a call, shouting. She sits down, reaches, pulls me into a hug. For the first time in years, I want to hug back. Father comes with Tommy and they huddle around me, on the floor of the basement.

I can’t reach for them, can’t look at them. Just up at the water heater and its smooth, sterile metal. My final chance. My last holdout. My family really did have a dark secret. I was just looking in all the wrong places.

You can deny, you can blame, you can search for the filth in others. But there’s rot in a twisted person that seeps through the cracks. And oh God, am I cracking.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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denu-rising · 7 years

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1!! 2, 8, 9, 13, 14, 16, 20, 22, 30, 31, 36, 39, 41, 42, 43, 47, 49 (im so sorry whenever i send these i always send a billion numbers)

Oh my gosh,so many questions! Don’t apologise, this is awesome! Thank you so much!! =D

1:Who is your clan leader(s)? What are they like?

Myclan leader is Nana. ^^ She’s an absolute sweetheart, soft spoken andshy, who just wants to see the whole world smile. She doesn’t run theClan by herself, but with her trusted council and closest friends,Hobo and Cookie. Hobo’s more of an honorary clan leader, sincepersonality and behaviour-wise he very much resembles an excitedpupper. He has a pure heart and would follow Nana through anything.Cookie’s a lot more help thanks to her empathic ability, which allowsher to pick up on any troubles that may arise in the Clan.

2:Who’s in charge of food? Do you have dragons in charge of thedifferent factions (hunting/fishing/insect catching/harvesting)?

Idefinitely plan to have dragons assigned to these roles, yes! So far,Scarlet is the only one who does any of these, and she always comeshome with her bags full of food and her clothes full of mud (much tothe annoyance of her stylist boyfriend). Guava and Lychee sometimesbring back food from their many adventures. Sunflower is my gardener,and the main dragon in charge of the gardens and crops. She’sassisted by her husband, Watermelon, who functions as a walkingencyclopedia for all things Plant, as well as a pack mule. =P

8:Does your clan have any occultists?

Wehave magic users galore, but when it comes to finding new forms andmethods of magic, right now there’s only Fantasia (plus whoever endsup being her permamate). She’s my dream sorceress, practicing the‘dream magic’ that she discovered and continues to experiment with.You can read a bit about it in her bio, but I should really write somemore about it! To put it vaguely, dream magic is about bringing outsubconscious or hidden knowledge and making it visible.

9:Storytellers or librarians?

Doscribes counts? Because I do have those! Planned, at least. At themoment, Galaxia is my only scribe. She records Dom efforts andcollects badges. I haven’t really kept this up to date, though, andhave been considering dropping this, but she’ll still be a badgecollector with awesome stories to tell about her badges. Just not allbadges. The two other scribes I want will record (previous) clanmembers and notable events that happened, like clan renovations orMarva visiting each year. And I need a fiction writer too. Thescribes also function as librarians and storytellers. ^^

13:What about musicians?

Alsoonly one so far! I have this nameless lady who’s quite the excellenttrumpet player. Can’t believe I forgot to add musicians to my list ofneeded clan roles, so thank you for the reminder, hehe. =P

14:Dragons involved in other arts? (Theatre, fine art, ect.)

Fiesta!This bright baby is my dancer. He looooves dancing! He teaches aweekly dance class at the familiar spa, and loves performing for themany celebrations my clan throws. When there’s no party planned ordance routine to learn, Fiesta’s often out visiting other Clans tomeet other dancers and dance with them. And Cassius will get upset ifI don’t mention him here, but he’s my pretty stylist and he’s supervain.

16:Who’s in charge of maintaining law and order? Any dragons that takeup the mantle of policing?

Toa degree, everyone is. If they witness something illegal or immoral,they’ll be sure to inform Nana, Hobo and Cookie. Any actual issuesare handled by those three, though they’ll call a clan meeting if thesituation calls for it. Overall, though, this Utopian little bunchdoesn’t have much need for actual police dragons. (They do have asort of prison hidden away in the garden, just in case, though.)There are at all times a couple dragons ‘policing’ the borders of thefloating islands, but that’s just to make sure no one and nothingfalls off and visitors are properly welcomed.

20:Which dragon has the oddest job in your lair?

Ina sense, I’d say Hobo, but that’s because he’s such an oddballhimself that being on the council is a very odd position for him. Imean, he very rarely speaks in full (short) sentences, struggles toget out words at all, and the others can have a hard timeunderstanding him. Fantasia has the oddest job in the sense that herdream magic involves a lot of tinctures and potions made from specialmushrooms and hallucinations. She’s high as a kite most of the time,because that’s her job. She loves her job.

22:Who, in your lore, is the oldest dragon in your lair? What about theyoungest?

It’sa toss-up between Cookie and Luna. Cookie is the actual oldestdragon, both date-of-birth and lore-wise. I tend to mostly followactual dragon birthdays to determine who’s oldest. Luna, however, isa ghost, and who knows how long she’s been dead before Fantasia foundher. She might be older than Cookie, she might even be ancient. Lunadied at a young age, though, so I don’t know. Is she old? Is sheyoung? Youngest would have to be the last hatchie to pop out of anegg, but since I don’t keep those, I suppose this lady’s the youngestaddition to the Clan right now, and I still have no clue as to whather personality or clan role will be. ^^;

30:Do you have siblings that live together in your lair?

YES!I love siblings so much. I had more at one point, but right now, Istill have Guava and Lychee (the first sibling pair I got). They doEVERYTHING together. They even share their boyfriends, taking turnsnesting with them. It’s a bit weird, but whatever floats their boat.^^ Then there’s Skittle and Jellybean. I don’t have any lore for themyet, but I love them. Lamia and her unnamed brother. Might actuallynot keep the brother, but Lamia’s my Shadow ambassador. Sprinkle andSmiley, from my very first dream dragon breeding project. (I got twogirls, because more genes came out and now I’m stuck deciding, so whynot both? Still waiting for the second male, who’ll be the brother ofthe first, to complete the two pairs.)

31:Any physically disabled or mentally ill dragons?

… Doesbeing dead count? 'Cause Luna’s dead, and it’s definitely a physicalstruggle when you can only materialise with a special, hard to makeelixer from Fantasia. But then, there’s also plenty of advantages tobeing dead, like never stubbing your toe or having to sleep, so Iguess it evens out. Guava and Lychee most definitely have ADHD, andwho even knows what the heck is wrong with Hobo… Overall, mentalillness, if present, isn’t something that’ll be clearly stated, like'this dragon has autism’. I struggle enough with my own mentalillnesses that I don’t want to explicitly mention it, though I candraw characteristics and personality traits from them. Also, I’d beway too anxious about accidentally upsetting or offending people. ^^;I have no objections to people giving any labels to my dragons,though! =P

36:Flight reps?

Yes,please! I have Lamia, my Shadow ambassador, and Spring is my Windpriest. I have Rose put down as a potential Ice ambassador andSunflare for Earth, but that’s it, really. I want Flight reps foreach Flight, but it’s super hard to think of what they should looklike if they have to match my lair theme. What would a Flightrepresentative look like if they needed to be XYZ with all colours in adifferent range?

39:Do you still have the first dragon you’ve ever bought?

Idon’t have the first dragon I ever bought anymore, but I do stillhave the first dragon I ever got. I got Cookie as a gift from mybrother. The week leading up to the reg window, he’d been showing meall sorts of dragons and I really loved Cookie, so I got her as agift. In a way, I’ve had her longer than my progens, even. =P

41:Who has the most tragic backstory?

Luna!I mean, she literally died and spent who knows how long all alonewandering Sornieth, unable to find any sort of peace or happiness.That said, backstories are the only real place I can add tragedy, sothere might be more tragic backstories popping up in the future. Likethe story of how Hobo became Hobo, which I’m still eternally mullingover.

42:Who is your edgiest dragon?

Idon’t have one, I think, but I want one! It’ll either be Lamia or myfuture Plague ambassador, because enforcing stereotypes, yeah! =P Ilove Shadow and Plague, but I don’t have much room in my lore foractual Shadow/Plague themes, so whatever edgy little runt thoseFlights can produce, they can just punt on over this way. That’llprobably be the backstory, anyway. =P

43:Do you have any dragons that broke the clan’s rules? What was thepunishment for that?

Well,hatchies can be quite a handful and they don’t always listen yet,but… No, not really, nothing major. Well, Cassius, greedy and vainas he can be, will sometimes steal pretty fabrics or shiny jewels,but that’s just because he’s too impatient to wait to sign anythingfor taking them. He’s had a slap on the wrist a couple times, but nowthey just let him, because he needs that stuff anyway for hisoutfits. Cassius gets a visit once a week to take stock of the stuffhe’s taken.

47:Professor/teacher dragons?

Alsostill unassigned. Yeah, I know, I need to work on my lore more. =PFiesta teaches a weekly dance class, and anyone can learn from anyoneduring the many arts-and-crafts sessions. I still need an officialhatchling caretaker/teacher. Bunnyfly supervises hatchling trips tothe familiar spa and teaches the young ones about familiars and howto maintain positive relations with familiars and beastclans.

49:Orphan dragons?

Nana,my progen. She just sort of came into being, no family or anything.Also my precious little Bunnyfly. He was found as an egg and taken inby a clan of buttersnakes, before his buttersnake mentor/fatherfigure/best friend decided to take him to Denutena’s Candyclan,because the other buttersnakes were getting increasingly anxiousabout living with a dragon, even one that looks like a bigger versionof them, and the buttersnake (he still needs a name) thought it wouldbe better for Bunnyfly to be around his own kind. They now run thefamiliar spa together. ^^

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49scribes-a · 7 years

Text

Lavi: I--

Kenny: Nah. Gotta take on one.

Lavi: Y'know what Lavi: zombie sized chickens

Ben: .....i dont kn o w Ben: are the chicken sized zombies still slow

Kenny: No, but they're dumber than the zombies.

Ben: ....ok then those

Lavi: dumber than? How so?

Kenny: Zombies still follow base instincts. They can track ya across a continent sometimes. Kenny: Chickens just. Sit there and be birds.

Ben: ...tho zombie sized chickens would. have a lot of meat on 'em. -NOW HES LEGIT THINKING ABT IT GG MIKE-

Lavi: True.

Kenny: ...True... Heh. It'd be a helluva lot of free food.

Ben: ...second thought, ill take those

Lavi: ........

Kenny: -lowkey la ug hs- easier to hunt too, 'cause theyre bigger

Lavi: helluva way to die

Kenny: Hah. Truth.

Ben: 'least no one would forget how you died

Kenny: Imagine tryin'a fry that though.

Kenny: naaah you gotta carve it up, right Kenny: skin it, cut it up

Lavi: yep

Ben: dry some of it

Kenny: Yeah, true.

Ben: youd be set for /so/ long

Lavi: okay so better question Lavi: would chicken sized zombies be fast? Lavi: because let me tell you Lavi: I've played Minecraft

Ben: -sn OR TS-

Lavi: *lavi y this*

Kenny: ... Kenny: Well... Kenny: They're /chickens/ Kenny: Of course they're quick.

Lavi: No I mean the zombies that are chicken-sized

Kenny: Ah. No. Kenny: They'd probably be slow as molasses. Like the Blob.

Lavi: *strokes chin* Hm... slow, small zambies, or a year's supply of chicken at the end of the world?

Kenny: They go at the average 'shuffle' speed. And they're...tiny. They'd probably go about a meter in one day. Hah.

Lavi: *snorts*

Sitara: ..so Sitara: what did I zone back to? - kinda gets off her phone- Sitara: why are we Sitara: talking about zombie chickens?

Ben: ...chicken sized zombies and zombie sized chickens -@sitara- Ben: which would you rather fight

Sitara: mmmm chicken sized zombies

Hige: I'd rather be eviscerated by a chicken than bit to death by toddlers.....

Ben: okok but zombie sized chickens Ben: think of all the food

Lavi: *laUGHS* Lavi: Same.

Kenny: All that delicious potential fried chicken. Hah.

Sitara: but you can kick Sitara: chicken sized zombies

Ben: ok but: food

Lavi: Okay but if they're just big chickens who says you even gotta fight 'em.

Kenny: ...Oh God she has a point.

Ben: ///food tho///

Sitara: but what if the meat is tainted?

Kenny: Imagine fuckin' punting one of the tiny bastards through a football goal.

Ben: ....when ur starving u dont care

Sitara: you'll care when you're dead

Lavi: Okay but isn't everyone infected anyway?

Ben: ...yeaaaah

Lavi: Okay okay but Lavi: Consider this

Kenny: ...maybe you'd build up an immunity -sno rts-

Hige: I don't know about you guys, but I'd be riding me a 6 foot tall chicken into battle.

Lavi: Human sized chickens lay really big eggs, probably??

Kenny: ...True!

Ben: likE I SAID, FOOD,

Sitara: ... it'd be like Final Fantasy

Kenny: Perfect food source.

Lavi: BEFREIND THE GIANT CHICKENS

Ben: e x a c t ly

Lavi: CREATE THE CHOCOBO RACE

Ben: new food source Ben: which i am SO down for

Kenny: ... Kenny: If I can manage to find any surviving scientists.

Lavi: I always said th' world needs more chocobos

Kenny: I will make them create a giant chicken.

Ben: if they aint working on a cure, get them to make huge chickens Lavi: Okay but if you got a bunch of Brahma chickens and selectively breed them you could probably do it without scientists

Ben: .....we just gotta find the chickens

Lavi: WE JUST GOTTA FIND THE CHICKENS

Kenny: Well...I ain't got chickens, but I have an eagle.

Ben: ...god if we didnt move around so much we could totally make this a thing?? but travelling w chickens Ben: would be hard Ben: ...theyre noisy

Sitara: just carry them Sitara: befriend them

Ben: like i said, noisy

Kenny: Like 'clucky cluck, come eat me zambo'

Ben: YEAH BASICALLY Ben: which no?? i dont need that

Sitara: cover their mouths

Ben: ...cover. their mouths. oh my god Ben: do you want me to tape it shut, sitara

Arvo: can i just mention how weird this conversation is

Sitara: yes

Arvo: bc it is

Ben: -hE LAUGHS- sor rR Y ARVO

Sitara: tape the beak Sitara: it's fine

Arvo: -sno Rts- n O JU ST Arvo: IT IS. VE RY RA ND om

Kenny: ...so arvo, how do you feel abt us finding chickens and carrying them around,

Sitara: don't be /chicken/

Ben: just,,, gonna tuck a chicken into the bag,,,,

Arvo: oh my go d -he l augh- i space out Arvo: for five mintues

Ben: we're adopting chickens, arvo

Kenny: Ah-ah, hol' up Ben. Kenny: You need the Chicken Adoption Papers.

Sitara: if Wrench can adopt a robot you guys can adopt chickens

Ben: ........the government has fallen apart Ben: i dont–– i dont think adoption papers mean anything Ben: -he laughs-

Kenny: I know. I'm fuckin' with ya. Kenny: -snickers-

Ben: ill just–– write it on a piece of paper Ben: 'i do what i want'

Kenny: Like Ron Swanson?

Ben: //rebel// Ben: ...yeah

Kenny: Heheh.

Sitara: ...Ben as a rebel Sitara: would be something

Ben: im hardcore!!

Lavi: *chasing chickens here chickie chickie chickies cOME TO DADDY*

#ic stream #crack #anyone else remember the ''zombie sized chickens'' stream?#BECAUSE I DO

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curiouskarenscapers2017 · 7 years

Text

Vol.11 June 2005

And so my last month dawned. Got a website called Global paws that I emailed to help me with Draco and what was to happen on the plane and in quarantine…I feel much better. Trying to swim through our governmental website just wanting information about importing a pet is a night mare. You get 10 papers on importing exotic animals to breeding them but no, bring your cat or dog into the country and here are the papers everybody refers to but you can’t find!!! Thnx!!

Anyway, we’ll see, the poor thing is going for all his shots and microchips and fixer uppers at once….hope he doesn’t hate me too much after that experience!!!! Shame!!

It’s pouring out side in the warmth of the Taiwan summer. So we have warm dirty rain instead of cold dirty rain. It does cool things off somewhat and makes it seem much cleaner.

We had our monthly , it seems now, “earth shudder” more than a “quake” really at about quarter past 12 at night on the 1st June. We’ve had very few lately….I’m not complaining!

Anyway, so the new teachers left again and I can’t understand how the management of this school can not see that they are doing something wrong!!!! It must be their existing foreigner’s fault that no new teachers want to stay…..hmmmm. What ever makes you sleep better at night!!!

So, the rain keeps pouring and the weeks fly by. It’s weekend and 1 week to payday!!! Also a week to go for the Dragon Boat festival! It’s starts at 8am on Saturday. So a good early start to our day…will have everything charged and ready!!! Received my mom’s package on Wednesday and handed out the bracelets we got made by my mom’s maid’s sister or something…everybody was going berserk about them and the kids started asking how much…..well let’s start a business, shall we? To think that this lady’s bracelets are being worn in Taiwan…how many people can say that? Ahhhhh the global village!

And so Draco’s fateful day arrived and I managed to get to see where the Vet was situated. Abby introduced me and I was immediately set at ease. I borrowed her scooter to go to Carrefour to get some monthly essentials like, yoghurt and butter and the usual. After about half an hour and getting to the till I realized I might just have too many things to pack on the scooter. Four big bags of heavy groceries, all liquids and things, and a pack of twelve toilet rolls….interesting. Now the test to see if I am a true Taiwanese begins…..all the years of my dad packing the trunk/boot of the car had finally paid off. On an area of about 1 square meter I packed two bags, tied to each other and the bag with all the eggs on top of them to keep them grounded to the floor and then the lighter bag on my lap with the toilet rolls between myself the bag and the handle bars. What a sight I must have been but then again, everybody looks like this here. I was a true Taiwanese!!!

I managed to get home in one piece with my toes curling under the two saddle bags on the floor to add support.

I collected poor unsuspecting Draco lying in front of the TV. “It’s time boy” I placed him in the carry cage and he was quite happy to be in it, having played up, over and around it everyday of his life. So when the door closed I think he was still ok with the idea. When the front door opened and the lift doors opened I think he felt differently. When the scooter motor started purring away I think he didn’t like the idea too much at all. He went all silent in the corner of the cage, as much as he could fill the corner of the cage as he occupied about half the cage already. The vet was excellent, spoke English well and had no problem telling us what I needed. We also asked for Draco to be “fixed” and Abby added her own version of “snip snip” to it to confirm what we wanted and the vet came up with his own word “castrated” we cringed and said rather used “neuter”, as this was for all animals. He just laughed and wrote it down with the word “fix” attached to it. He gave Draco his shot and we waited. After about 10 min or so, Draco was still way to wide awake, a few minutes later he was out for the count and all the stresses of hearing dogs bark and smelling new smells drifted away.

It was quick and painless. The vet, Mark, asked me into the operating room and he showed me the chip in Draco’s neck with a detector. It comes up with a 10 digit number. Cool! He got his vaccinations and rabies shots and everything! He had however to come back for the next three days for an antibiotic as he had some complications when “fixing” him. Poor thing!!! Never been out of the apartment save for three or so times down stairs in the garden and now, a scooter ride, injections, neutering, new people, noise, smells….I am way to into his shoes at this stage!!! I feel like a mother taking her kid to the doctor for the first time…hectic people!!!

Anyway, took him home and placed him on the bed. He looked like a party animal after a good Saturday night outing. His tongue stuck out, his eyes were squint and his head was bobbing around. I took a few discriminating photo’s…don’t tell him. After about 5 hours he could pick his head up and bob it from side to side to try and focus. After another few hours he could lift his front and drag his backside a bit. Later he could careen around corners and down the hall at a snails pace pausing from time to time to get his bearings. I wonder what goes through their minds when they are like this? The mind wants to go and move as he always does. Jump from one couch to another but the body ain’t goin no-where!!! It’s actually sooooo funny, but I wonder what is going to happen tomorrow when we have to go again!!! At least it’s only for an injection, nothing serious. Poor thing!!!!

Anyway, I returned the scooter to Abby, not before I decided to fill it up at a petrol station to say thanks. Do you think I could find a gas station ANYWHERE!!! With sooooo many scooters and cars…how could they possibly only have one gas station in all of Changhua!!! I went to where I remembered seeing one about 6 months ago. FINALLY found it and stopped at the pump. The service lady beckoned to me to go down the side of the station. I didn’t quite understand but followed to where she was pointing. A small, what looked like a drive thru side street lead me to behind the main station and pumps to a little miniature scooter world gas station. Too cute!!!! Little markings on the pavement to show where the scooter must drive to the pump etc. Shame!!! About 10 scooters arrived while the little service attendant helped me find the cap, which was under the seat, or rather inside the seat compartment. NT 100 / R20 filled the tank…I NEED to get one of these at home!!!! And with a cheerful toothy grin and wave goodbye I left the world of Lilliput feeling strangely satisfied!

Draco was fine the next day and could put one foot in front of the other without making it look like he had a few. I felt so bad putting him through this traveling again today to the vet, this time on the bicycle! Interesting. I dreamt about different ways of putting him in the basket and closing it etc. Eventually with his dog collar/brace on I placed him in the basket and left the cover, he filled the basket by half already. So, with my one hand holding him inside the basket and the other steering I started our journey to the vet at about 10am. He was relatively scared witless so he stayed in the bottom of the basket squashed in the corner. Every noise making him twitch. Shame!!! At one stage he made a leap for it but I grabbed him in mid air and pushed him back in the basket. After that he decided it was safer in the bottom and stayed their quite content. I sighed with relief. The vet was happy to see us and gave him his shots after trying to cut his nails a bit. Draco made it know that he hated this little procedure!! He tolerates it at home when I do it, but I think after the ordeal of getting here and the previous trauma of the previous day was enough to drive any cat over the edge. But it was done and he was alive!!!

The trip back home was much better, his initial reaction to be put back into the basket was legs straight kicking against the sides and straddling the basket….I nearly killed myself laughing! It was a cartoon moment! But once he was in, he settled and I didn’t even have to hold him down. He’ll live, tomorrow we do this all over again. Maybe a blessing in disguise so that he gets used to all the handling before he goes on his all time big trip home!!!!

The days went by with Draco and I cycling up to the vet and him now “punt in die wind” in the basket, smelling everything that his nose could smell. Eventually the paperwork done, and some more to come, and me still trying to get hold of the Cathay Pacific people to organise for him to go as cargo. Getting the run around and eventually contacting the right people…..who didn’t speak English. “Monica!!!” Once again she came to the rescue and spoke to the people as to what we needed what the costs involved were etc. Bit of a mission, I need to write it down and put it on the local website for anybody wanting to do this in the future!

A new teacher arrived today(Wednesday) and we were told that she was staying with Ryno and I, as of tonight. Kim nearly had a heart attack as they never said a word to her and her flat needed to be cleaned before somebody could move in. They usually take the new people to her flat, as she is the only one in it. A few weeks ago the landlord of that flat died and the daughter wants it for herself, so Kim will have to move into ours or ,when Judy gets another apartment, move into that. Bit of a mission. The contract Judy has(or rather had) with the landlord was that they have the apartment until end of August when Kim leaves, now that he died it suddenly doesn’t apply anymore and she must move out by the end of June…weird….you’d never get that in SA, a contract is a contract no matter who dies. As usual it’s a surprise and everybody gets caught off guard including the poor new teacher, Chantal from Canada Ontario.

The weeks are flying past! And the weekend of the Dragon boat Festival arrived. No working on Saturday, because it’s a holiday….wooooooooo! Lucky us!!! Anyway, the plan is to wake up at 6:00am, get the 7:00am bus to Lukang and meet up with Gina, a Chinese teacher at the school, at the bus station. She will take me to the harbour where the boat race starts at 8:00am. The batteries are charging!!!

Saturday morning dawned and I was up at 6am. Out of the flat by 6:30am and off to the bus station. I arrived about 15min later and got my return ticket to Lukang. The bus arrived about 8min early and I was one of 4 people on it, lovely!! Got to the bus station and saw that it had been demolished, I thought something was missing. I asked the bus driver to stop and asked him where’s the building. He just answered “mayo” meaning “no building” or “not have”. I got off there anyway as we all still thought it was there and arrangements had been made. So Melissa and her crew arrived after 7:45 and Gina came to pick me up with her scooter at about the same time. We lead the way while the car followed. We ventured into an industrial office park area, all open and green! The harbour wasn’t really a harbour as we know it, it was more and estuary or lagoon that rises and ebbs as the tides do. All gray and muddy. We arrived at the boat race location and my rowing day memories came flooding back.

Many marquees were erected and the teams were getting ready to participate in their different company colours and flags. Not quite what I had expected but exciting enough. I had a very traditional image in my mind of flags blowing in the wind with dragon designs and traditional Taiwanese outfits etc. Somewhere in Taiwan perhaps, but not today. We walked onto a floating jetty and took our places watching the start. The boats were dragons with the heads and tails adorning the front and back of the boat. About 12 guys rowed with short oars and a steering person manned the back end and the drummer manned the head, shouting his commands and beating a big red drum as they went. The steering man reminded me of a gondola driver, about to burst into “O solo mio”. One team’s commanding crew looked like two taxi drivers, one tall and skinny with his “Chips” glasses on and the other with a wrap around black pair of sunglasses.

The foreigners had entered a boat and apparently there was a lot of Russians aboard and a few faces from the Maple Leaf greeted us. Apparently the girl team was to row at about 11am. Wish I had entered, I REALLY wanted to do this!!! The started shouted out his commands and the crew raised their oars a few centimetres above the water level. As the shot was fired they dug in and pulled to the rhythm of the drum beat. Too cool!!!

After about an hour and a half we left and went exploring. Our group now consisted of myself, Melissa her new roommate Liz from Ontario Canada, Trista, a Chinese teacher at their school who’s family lives in Lukang and Gina, our Chinese teacher at Sesame Street, who’s family also lives in Lukang. Trista had a lot of historic knowledge about Lukang and it was great to have a tour guide! We visited the old familiar sights and discovered new ones.

We arrived at the Matsu temple we always walk past in our regular route and noticed marquees up in the court in front of the temple. A long table was set up and ladies were preparing food that looked like pancakes. Like a church bazaar, I suppose it was a temple bazaar in a way. What had happened according to Trista’s enquiries is that somebody made a wish and it came true so the temple was now celebrating this by making food for everybody….for free! We got a sweet pancake and a savoury one. Amazing, imagine us doing that every time your prayers are answered…a thanks giving celebration.

At the entrance to the temple there was a set up in the main temple door. The litter, I told you about previously, that they carry the god in and shake around was mounted at a height that people could crawl underneath. So what happens is you make your wish, say your prayer in front of it, kneel down and crawl through under it, as you come out the other side, you get a plum and a peach, also a religious connotation to fruit, especially pineapples.

On the inside of the temple in their centre court, there is a table set out with lucky water set out for all to drink, again for free. On another table people place food, go into the temple pray and come out taking their food or donating it to people.

Another interesting thing we learned is that Matsu is their god of the people who travel the sea, fishermen etc. She has two helpers that are placed at the entrance to the prayer area on either side. One has the powers to hear exceptionally well and the other to see very far, so that when somebody is in trouble and calls out the one who hears well will tell Matsu and she will respond, the same goes for the one who can see people in trouble from far away. There is even a tiger god under her offering table that look after the children.

In the prayer hall there are two kneeling pillows and there are half moon shaped wooden blocks on the offering table in front of them. The blocks fit into your palm. You place them flat sides facing to make a little banana shape in your hand. You ask Matsu a question about anything that is troubling you and throw the blocks on the ground. If they fall a certain way then it means yes, if the fall the opposite way it means no. Somewhat like an eight ball you shake and it says, “maybe”.

We actually went into the Matsu temple like before but then we went in further along the side and found a whole touristy section behind it! A wishing well with the most amazing little tortoises that multiplied as you looked carefully between the identical rocks. You have to through a one dollar coin into the dragon’s mouth for your wish to come true. This is where your coinage and drinking games come in handy!

There is also a specific way you walked through a temple. You start at the right side and move out through to the left. As you go right the dragon gives you luck and as you go out the left the tiger gives you strength, wisdom etc. Up the stairs we came into a room with a “Christmas tree-looking” stand, with thousands of small lights shining from small indents with a little golden figure in it. It looked just like a Christmas tree with fairy lights. Each little compartment on the tree had a name and number on it and we found out that each year people come to the temple and paid a fee for the year to book a space. With this ritual they ensure a prosperous and lucky year ahead, good marks in your tests at school, good business year etc. Every end of the year the tree is cleared and new names get inserted. There wasn’t just the one tree, they were along the walls and there were about four or so trees with literally thousands of lights on them. Amazing how different religions work. They had stunning wood work on the roof of one such section with the dragon and the phoenix battling dawn and dusk, beginning and end. Small hexagonally folded papers were in a small wooden box and this is supposed to be placed in a little Chinese material bag the size of a matchbox around your neck to ward of evil during the festive time. It is supposed to contain a ghost that fights the evil spirits trying to enter your soul. Okay!!!!!

We explored out side and went down an alley we had never gone down before and a whole new shopping lane with the most amazing doors and entrances to houses lined the street. Traditional food, shoes, clothes and brick’a’brack were sold everywhere! Such a stunning feeling in these walk ways. Old but with a hint of new as the shops produce their electronic wears as well as old traditional. A lady was sitting in one bend with a “zippy zither” as I called it. I had one when I was little and loved it. This one was the size of a piano and done in a stunning red wood with inlaid mother of pearl designs at her feet and on it’s legs. Beautiful!

We had lunch and oysters, fried and cooked and prawn chow fan etc. for about R15 each. Drank a fantastic cup of fresh watermelon juice! And shopped for gifts. The day flew by and the next thing we know it was 2 o’clock. We wanted to go and explore the Sea shell temple. So off Trista took us and we found it in a quiet section of the town between the rice paddies. The odd looking building is totally made from sea shells and by one man! The story goes that he had a dream once from Matsu and she told him to make a temple of sea shells, he dismissed it and for a long time to come he dreamt the same dream until one day he decided to do it. He’s still busy! The most amazing sight to see. The walls, stairs, lights, ornaments and everything else is made from sea shells. Amazing! The time and effort it must take to make only one wall is beyond me. He had made a the temple as the ocean to house the god. There are amazing dragons he made, their beards from coral and seaweed and eyes of a stone that looks alive, the scales of the dragon are all different coloured shells individually placed to cover the dragon…simply amazing! He should be in the Guinness Book of records for “the most sea shells in one place”….even the sea can’t compete! You walk through the temple to get to the back and in the process you walk down a corridor that is adorned on both sides with images of phoenixes and dragons. At the back of the building he has a business of selling sea shells as well and light fittings of sea shells etc. As you enter the shop section three massive replicas of temples surprise you. All made from shells with such depth and detail, you just want to go inside and walk around!

Outside you walk into an area where they have fish in tanks, 5 potbellied pigs and 3 crocodiles in the apartment next to them. One tank had barble in it, I was still looking at the small section on the things tail thinking it was the fish until he moved and I had to rearrange my vision measurement in my brain. It was a huge thing of about 5 foot something!!! There were about three basking in the shallow water…..now I know what lurks in Hartebeespoort dam!

Gina had to go home earlier and met us again at the temple with rice dumplings for all. These are not dumplings as such but they call them that. It is sticky rice with beef or pork, chestnuts and egg mixed together and placed inside two bamboo leaves and cooked/steamed. Very tasty and filling although only about two hands full.

We ended our day by going for a drink at a coffee shop and lazing around chatting until about 5 pm or so. Got home and Gina invited us to go see a movie. At first no one had the energy but later we decided to fill the day properly and saw Mr and Mrs Smith! Too cool!! In all of this I had forgotten that I had taken the bus to Lukang and had not used my return ticket, which was not the problem. I also forgot that my bicycle was at the bus station waiting for me to return. So the next day as we planned to go to breakfast at our usual breakfast nook, I suddenly couldn’t find my bicycle and thought somebody had moved it. Then it dawned on me it’s still at the bus station. We had our breakfast and the heavens opened. We sat and chatted until about and hour and a half before venturing back to the apartment. Melissa waned to show Liz some shopping in Changhua and I wanted to go to the internet café, and I had to go fetch my bike at the bus station all the way up the road. Walked up, said good-bye to the girls half way and continued my brisk walking pace. Once again a blessing in disguise, all this exercise! It poured and luckily I had my raincoat in my backpack. Lost another kg sweating the next km in the wet heat and finally got to the bus station where old faithful was waiting for me….amazing country this! Cycle back to the internet café and just parked my bike and connected when the heavens opened and it poured for about an hour. Nearly two hours later at 6pm I went home and started organising photo’s etc. I took 104 photo’s in Lukang….amazing this new digital technology….I would have had to be a millionaire in the old days if I took photo’s the same way!

Only a few more weeks left!! And the heavens opened and the earth was soaked! As soon as you think the sun is forcing it’s way through the clouds to dry the land below it gets knocked out of the way by the cloud bully and the tears flow! The river got a life of it’s own and I couldn’t sleep last night in case I missed a flood! I was getting up every half hour in the pouring to check the level of it, it was rising and the ferns and plants on the sides were submerged….the poor river, only when there are typhoons and torrential rains does it become alive before diminishing into an oily, soapy slick trickle, discoloured and dead.

Our ESL program at school is coming to an end for the kids and final exams are all over the place making life easier preparation wise but more work marking wise. They end off on the 30th July for their summer break of a month. Then they come back at different times during this summer break for more classes…this time a bit more fun based classes. Shame…what about no classes over the holidays???? Their school year books are amazing compared to ours and money has been spent to make it memorable for the kids.

The girls, Kim, Abby and Teri have been practicing their dancing in a group for a promotional dancing session this weekend for a friends club opening. Very exciting but this weather!!! Since our Green Island trip they danced for us and soon attracted a crowd and from this interest the group began and they decided to do it a bit professionally. Too cute!! The outfits and the accessories make it!!!! They were stressed out but happy when I was asked to criticize one week day of practicing. They did great and with a few minor comments practiced the night away.

The weekend arrived and the preparations for the show started. A frantic call at about and hour before the show asking for the camera woman and booze, confirmed everything was going as planned. The weather held and it was actually quite pleasant out. Myself, Ryno and Chantal (the new room mate) walked up to the train station where the show was to be held. They have a performance area opposite the station where all their town activities take place. Some school kids gathered as we walked past to meet them where they were being made up and hair done. We walked into a café called Dream Café and found them upstairs like three models being fussed over. At times having two people doing their hair and a third the make up.

It was fun and exciting and we got them into the spirit so that not too much stress was building. We went down to the performance area and waited for their entrance. They arrived to do the Cumbia and everybody cheered for them as they performed. Gina and Monica and her sister arrived to support the cause. It was great fun. They did extremely well and can now say they performed professionally in front of a Taiwanese crowd in Taiwan! Who can say that!!! The disappeared after to get ready for the next act and we all met new people and chatted for a while. The reappeared in their new outfits and performed the Merenge. All flashy and well executed. After that Kim invited whoever for a Salsa lesson on stage to fill time. The next act was the Mayor handing over the money collected to two charities. And that was the end of that. We waited for them again as they collected all their stuff and got make upped some more as practice for the hair and make up people and ended up going to Abby and Teri’s apartment for some after performance drinks. We got psyched up for a party and all forced me with! We went to Taichung where Ryno’s friend Andrew had invited us to join them at Tiger City where there had been a fashion show and the after party was raging. We arrived and entered the Moet champagne lounge. Too cool!! All foreigners and most looking very arty farty and a tad conceited. It felt like I was back in Jo’burg! Shame, not all, just some of them. The outfits and hair! Very entertaining. We had a great time as usual and was dancing until around 2am. We all got hungry and got a taxi to the Soundgarden…opposite the Pig Pen..our other old time favourite. We got disappointed as their pizza kitchen closed and we decided to go home. We got a sausage and rice outside in the street from a vendor and that hit the spot as we were driven back home. Got home and crashed at about 3:45am. Need less to say I woke up around 2pm. I’m too old for this!!! Have I said this before????

I went to the interne café to email my dad happy father’s day and email my mom to say happy birthday and we’ll have another party on my return in exactly a month’s time today!!! Cool hey!!! It’s time!! Got home just in time for the Rugby, had my blood pressure go through the roof as the French tackled the Springboks and the game end in a tie! Then Ryno and I took a walk up to the cinema’s to watch Batman….tooooooo cooooooll!! One for the DVD collection that’s for sure!! Next is War of the Worlds.

On the Monday I finally plucked up the courage to go to my swimming for the last time. I suddenly started to feel the emotions get hold of me as I cycled to the spa and saw the people there. As I left, after getting them to take photo’s etc. and the owner coming to speak to me and saying they will be very sad to see me go, I suddenly started seeing things as if it’s for the last time…which it was. Walking in slow motion into the steam room or sinking into the aromatic spa or relaxing in the bubble chair. This is it, the feeling you will have one day knowing it’s the end…….all seems better more beautiful and I wondered if I should stay another year……….hmmmmmm no thank you….I have people waiting for me! Things to do, places to see and people to meet….thanks but no thanks!

At school later that day I arrived on the school scooter after being at the other branch and I was immediately reminded of Mads. What do you think made me stop in my tracks and take a photo? Well maybe I should start with an introduction to her, she bought a cow print bikini a while back and came to love it! I just thought this would match it beautifully……a scooter painted in cow print! To die for doll!

The weather picked up a bit and we had beautiful bright blue skies dappled with fluffy white clouds…..a rare sight…believe me. Much like London weather, except for the rainy sky we have the foggy or rather smoggy sky. The rain cleaned it out a bit and the wind has picked up the last week and cleared the air a bit. I decided, the help of my mother, against bringing my faithful mountain bike back home. I don’t know what it is with me and transportation! I get very sentimental about anything that has faithfully transported me to my work or play through out my life! I can foresee a tearful departure!

The 2nd last week of the month has come to an end and I am in a lightly panicky mode as I am getting my things organised and hoping I don’t forget anything. I have to get to the post office at some stage to send my boxes home on the two month surface mail boat and am still waiting for the cargo company to get back to me with regards to Draco’s transportation. I have a quote already but just wanted a second one in case I could bring the price down a bit. Not too bad as it is. We still have to make our trip to Taichung within 10 days of departing Taiwan. I received his permit papers from SA and sighed a sigh of relief as that was now done and he was a legal immigrant.

Time is flying past and I got my Chinese shirt I had made. I bought the material at a corner shop with some stunning designs and colour but when I saw the turquoise and silver Chinese material I had to have it. I asked the guy for some African designs for my mom but they had very little and what they had was only an animal skin print. I asked him where I could get a shirt made and he took me around the corner to a connection of him. A family business by the looks of it. And old gentleman and a young guy. Probably father and son. He measured me up, made some suggestions in broken English and I decided on a design. It would be ready in about a week he said and I was back at the assigned time, soaked to the bone as this was the time the heavens opened! They weren’t ready yet and was putting on the final touches. It was beautiful! I decided not to rush them as he was displaying an amazing talent for stitching a hem….with his hand!! This is an astonishing accomplishment for me though, because I believe in machine work or iron on solutions……thank goodness they don’t and workmanship means everything to them in this country. I returned the next evening at about 9pm and found him on his own busy with the next project. My shirt was hanging in the window. What a stunning shirt it is! He lined it with a lavender and silver binding and frogs(Chinese ties) of the same colour. It picked up the small flower design of the same colour so beautifully. I tried it on and everything fitted perfectly. He was amazing, no adjustments needed and no mistakes made. Perfect!

I decided I will wear it to the kindergarten graduation on my final day of school in Taiwan. I showed the shirt to the girls at school the week after and they immediately wanted me to don the garment for inspection. I agreed and “voila” they all exclaimed how stunning it looked. “You look so thin in it.” Was one comment I truly relished and decided that from now on I will be wearing this shirt every day! Naaahhh…but it’s a good sign that the design works for me…I’ll get similar ones made one day!

We went to see Batman and I was in heaven. It was stunning. Great movie and realistically made so that each physical feat is logically explained, not too super heroish. Father’s day passed and my mom’s birthday arrived and I was down in the dumps thinking about not being there. They phoned, I felt better and promised to have a party in a months time!!!

“All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go….” Sing with me “I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again……” probably never but I’ll never forget the people or this country, my faith in the human race has been restored and expanded to incorporate another race all together. The words of a numerologist that read my details probably 11 years ago at my first cell phone job in Jo’burg, still stuck in the back of my mind……”you will be a friend of the world…” interesting isn’t it?

So Saturday afternoon I went off to the Vet to get Draco’s papers for SA filled in and stamped and ready to take to Taichung within our 10 dyas of travelling and we got home just in time for getting ready for the rugby between SA and France (2nd match). Ryno suggested we go to Flamingo’s because they have Supersport on TV there and we went. Met Stacy(ex-teacher) and her SA boyfriend Douw and then the supporters streamed in wearing their SA jerseys. The pub that usually shows the games in Taichung was closed so they all got taxi’s to come and watch it out here. Like people coming from Durban to Toti to watch the game. An extraordinary feeling of camaraderie was on display as we cheered and shouted our comments on the match to the many TV’s all around. It was great! The best way to watch a game like this! Excited supporters cursed at the ref a few times and as we near the try line the roar was deafening and the beers were downed in celebration. We won and had a last round at about 11:30pm. We eventually left and went for a quick last last round at The New York bar…Melissa and I couldn’t find this place before but Ryno showed me the way and we chatted about our past travelling and again next year…hmmm Scandanavia and Norway will be the destinations, I think. We walked back at about 1:00am and I had a good sleep until about 9:30am when our next expedition was planned and executed.

So I escorted the new teacher Tanya that was leaving the Monday, to the morning market and popular street. We walked for over 5 hours. Started around 11am and ended around 5pm. Good exercise and good company. She had no problem finding clothes etc. She’s as small as they are and everything fits her perfectly. I saw the most amazing clothes for everybody today and it will probably not be there when I go back to buy it. The clothes are soo cheap ….a stunning shirt that would probably cost in the range of R100 – R200 will cost you R50 – R80 here. Really excellent export opportunity! Especially there shoes…you’ll have to cater for the 3 – 6 size, some up to 8 but seldom, at a third of the price at home. You can look like a Sandton coo-girl for R100! Designer wear and all! Let’s….

So our outing just re-connected my dulled senses with regards to my environment and I enjoyed myself as if it was the first time I went exploring. Great fun.

My plans to go to Chiayi with Melissa up the Alishan mountains fell through due to lack of funds with regards to the ever growing fight between gifts and pleasure. Gifts won and I was shopping like crazy, getting everything done.

The day was scorching and over 38degrees. In our apartment with the fan on it was 32…..lovely…Durban in Summer…aaahhh yes. SO suddenly I realised I had just over two weeks left before going home and the depression set in. Thinking about seeing some of the kids for the last time in your entire life! Seeing teachers or other people for the last time ever, was quite depressing and the stress of hoping alls well with all my paperwork for Draco just accumulated in my gaining another few grey hairs and many hours of lost sleep.

Taiwan Times Vol 11 Vol.11 June 2005 And so my last month dawned. Got a website called Global paws that I emailed to help me with Draco and what was to happen on the plane and in quarantine…I feel much better.

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shadowofthelamp · 3 years

Text

Behold, some context for this, specifically Bella’s part. I’ll add more when I actually write more about Kit’s bit.

Wordcount: 2075

“You a newly dead?” The demon raised one of their four eyes, and Bella nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, newly dead. Anyway. Story?”

“They’re made by Sir Pentious, one of the Overlords. He’s some kinda inventor, I’unno. Never blew up anything that mattered to me, so I never cared that much.”

“Sir Pentious…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, plucking the ‘T’ in the middle thoughtfully along with the rubber bands wrapped around her braces. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Er- you’re welcome.” They darted off, but that was fine. Now it was just a matter of actually getting onboard.

____________

She was about to start taking it apart when she heard a pitter-patter behind her.

“Whoever you are, bossman says you gotta go!”

“Who’s bossman?” Bella asked after a few very long seconds of silence.

“You know… bossman!” It blinked. “He doesn’t like people pokin’ around his cool, cool stuff and you tripped the motion sensor. Hey, is that a ray gun?”

Bella’s finger eased off the trigger. “Yeah, it is. It can probably scramble you.”

“Oooh! Fun! Not as good as boss’s, I’m sure, but-”

“Hey, what say you take me to this boss?” Bella crouched down, knowing this was incredibly stupid but also already entirely committed to it. “Then he can decide what to do with me in person.”

Some things never changed no matter where you went.

____________

dolittle 🐭: bells where ARE you

dolittle 🐭: kits distracting clove so I could grab one of those bugdog things but moms gonna be asking how were doing soon, what should I say

Bella thought for a moment before sending back a reply. ‘im checking out that airship we saw earlier. have weapons. ill be fine. meet you back at the cafe later’

dolittle 🐭: be careful ok? know you can handle it but still

Bella smiled a little at that, sending a thumbs up before tucking her phone back into her pocket as they ascended the bridge.

“This, boss!” The egg tugged at her jeans by the knee around the corner before pushing her forward with surprising force. “They said they wanted to see you!”

“Well well well!”

It took her only a moment to shake off her awe. “So you’re the famous Sir Pentious!”

His grin widened. “Ah! You’ve heard of me, little tresssspassser?”

“Obviously, considering I knew your name, right?”

“Er- yes!” He faltered for just a moment, and she went in for the kill.

“What did you do?” His hood flared, and she twirled the gun in her hands.

Bella folded her arms, glancing around. “Hmm… far left column, the one with a yellow eye instead of a red one.”

“What about it?” He folded his arms as well, waggling his head. “Are you-”

“Little wrench! How dare you?”

“I’m…” Her legs kicked a little, ribs feeling uncomfortably bendy at the moment as his scales pressed against her chest and back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

His tongue darted out as he hissed, just barely brushing her nose before sliding back into his mouth.

“What do you really want, missy? I don’t like competition, you know.”

“I am quite impresssssive, aren’t I?” He puffed up his chest a bit. “And you have no intention to-”

Bella drew an X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You’re the bossman.”

He looked her up and down. “Hmm. Get back to me when you have a proper uniform and not those ragssss, and I suppose I could show you around a bit, if- if!- you show me something of yourssss. ”

Bella’s grin slipped into a smirk as she gave a bow. “Bella Donna at your service, then, Sir Penny.”

#hazbin hotel /#bella #shadow writes stuff #iz #aip #iz blogging #hellkids

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