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#if you saw me upload this before with a glitch - my bad
pokeglitchden · 9 months
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[A VIDEO IS UPLOADED FROM A NEWSCAST DATED 7/9/23
Leading Kanto daytime news network, KNN's logo can be seen briefly before it pulls back to a daytime talk set up. Two reporters are seated behind a desk, Corey, a well dressed looking man in a blazer, and Diane, a platinum blonde woman with natural makeup and a wide smile.
Corey- And now for our top story this morning, we have footage of an exclusive interview with the man suspected to be behind the Glitch Pokemon rampage in Celedon City.
An image of �aver flashes on screen. The image has been cropped so that he is looking away, in an attempt to make him look more sinister.
Corey- Now I've gotta say, Diane, this really might be the most bizarre interview I've ever watched. What do you think?
Diane- You might be right Corey. I've seen a lot of interviews, but this guy seems pretty off the rails. Let's take a look.
The shot cuts to a scene from the interview. Renowned Hoennian Journalist Gabby Newsworthy. �aver's voice can be heard filtering in from a speaker. It sounds as if everything he says has a layer of static to it. As if being filtered by an old tape recorder.
Gabby- Today we have an exclusive interview with Aver, uh, do you have a last name?
�aver- I do not, actually. Also you can call me Zaver for the interview, I don't know if you can pronounce [sharp percussion sound]aver.
Gabby- For those of you out there who Don't know, Zaver's recently been accused of being the perpetrator behind the recent attack on Celadon City by the Glitch Pokémon, uh...
[there's the sound of a barely audible voice from off-screen, likely Ty]
3trainerpokedollarsign. We're here to get his side of the story.
�aver- I don't know, because I was literally in hoenn. I saw it on the news like everyone else and my friend Simon was calling to try to help while I was trying to help him help.
The interview cuts away, centering back on Diane and Corey once again.
Diane- So he can't give a last name. I mean, I don't know if that's a bad thing or not, you can't pronounce his first name anyway.
There is some laughter from both hosts.
Corey- But these are some serious charges Diane. I can't tell if it's brave or crazy. I mean he's claiming he wasn't even in the region when the attack went down, but we know it was his ID on the pokemon. The question is, what is going to make a story like that stick for him? What about this is going to clear his name?
Diane- Well Corey, we've got more clips, and I think the answer to those questions might be a shock to both you AND our viewers. Take a listen.
The cut returns to Gabby and �aver, much later in the interview.
Gabby- What about this Dr. Grant Emmerson? The one who appeared on the news. According to my research, which was all done perfectly legally by the way, there's not really evidence of him working for Silph beyond their PR team.
�aver- That is understandable because I seriously doubt Silph would want to be attached to Team Enigma in any way. I'll be honest, I think Team Enigma went rogue from them but I am starting to think Silph themselves didn't want this stuff to be happening.
Plus. He specifically runs the Team Enigma blog. I can say for certain I don't think anyone is safe from Team Enigma right now, actually.
Gabby- I've seen them around Rotomblr. They seem very opposed to Glitch Pokémon and Glitch City in general. They say they want to keep people safe.
�aver- So the literal first interaction glitch city had with team enigma is I spotted their base while remapping, stopped by to say hi, and they killed one of my pokemon and nearly killed me. I think that tells you a lot about how anti-glitch city they are...
Not to mention, they are not opposed to mass destruction to make whatever point they want to try to make. They've actually pulled a stunt similar to what happened in Kanto over in Glitch City. Destroyed the whole town...
Gabby- Skies above
�aver- this is a warning, don't trust team enig--
The interview cuts back to Diane and Corey once again. This time both are looking concerned.
Diane- Well that is all the footage we were able to see, unfortunately it looks like they lost connection and weren't able to finish their talk. What do you think about all that Corey.
Corey- Well Diane, I think he said it himself. That was a chilling way to end an interview. And to be honest, I didn't hear a lot of explaining going on there. It sounded like this was more of a Team Enigma hit piece. Those guys better watch out. It sounds like there might be a Three Trainer Poke Dollar coming to Saffron City pretty soon.
Diane- I think he said some pretty interesting things there Corey. Pointing out that a town from his region was attacked in a similar way. Is this a possible motive for revenge. Just what else is this "Zaver" not telling us about himself and about the region of Glitch City.
Corey- Well, Diane, Glitch City is still a big mystery to all of us. But the more we learn about it the more it seems like they've got a chip on their shoulder. If it wasn't this guy it's just as likely they're hiding someone else who does want to get back at our region. And unfortunately it sounds like the local government is willing to protect him for as long as possible. So far no law enforcement has been able to apprehend this suspected terrorist who is still at large. The question is, what's next?
Diane- I can't tell you that, Corey. But I do know we'll be keeping on top of this story as more unfolds. This has been KNN news, channel 8, Kanto. Back to you, Ari!
END OF BROADCAST]
So this isn't looking all that great. This was broadcasting in Kanto apparently just this morning.
We might need to be ready to make statements to the police if it's necessary. I'm really hoping not. I was hoping to have all of this solved sooner.
I don't think we should be doing any more public interviews for the time being...
-Simon
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artisticbunny · 2 years
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for the ask game, 2, 10, and 14?
2: Why these characters in particular? What was the hook for you?
Honestly? Multiple reasons. I just really love creepy things. And sun’s personality being such a stark contrast to that amplified my interest in them more djdjdh.
Also I tend to latch onto neurodivergent coded characters EXTREMELY quickly (probably because I relate to them quite a bit). Look me in the eyes and tell me that sun does not have adhd. Go ahead.
Another thing is I honestly think they had SO MUCH potential in the lore that wasn’t expanded upon and my brain kinda just latched onto that and now it won’t let go, THEY JUST DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER
Also My favorite fnaf character before them was the puppet, so also I honestly think i just have a thing for semi-important side characters in this franchise lol
10: what keeps you in this fandom despite the very small amount of canon content the dca had?
I have,,, very bad brainrot,,, the hyperfixation,,, has a death grip on me,,,
The fact that they have such little cannon content is a small part of why I latched onto them so quick? I just wanted more of them, and the fan content for them that started popping up satiated that to an extent! I think some of the first stuff I saw was on tiktok, but at the time I was already following bamsara because, while I’m not in the invader zim fandom, their writing and artwork drew me in and I just really liked it. So when they uploaded Solar Lunacy I think that really kicked it off for me, and there was no escape from the quicksand pit that is the dca fandom XD
Also everyone in this fandom is so nice and cool and awesome???? and I wanna be friends with them so bad???? Everyone makes such cool stuff and I’m always just like 😭 UAAAH
14: thoughts on pre-glitch moon?
OOOH HERE WE GO
*cracks knuckles* it’s time for some head cannons babeyyyyy!!!
I am a very big fan of soft moon (I also love feral moon a whole lot but shhhh)
I like to think he was really soft and caring but put on sort of a gruff shell/persona because a lot of kids were scared of him and he was tired of getting emotionally hurt over it. He LOVES kids, he LOVES hugs and he won’t admit it but god if you catch him at the right time you can see the cracks in the mask he wears glowing like lightning.
You could see if a child wasn’t scared of him, if a kid ended up hugging him or falling asleep on him, his big scary attitude would absolutely just fizzle off. He might cry about it later honestly.
If you caught him and hugged him unexpectedly, he would just MELT. I am also on team moon purrs because I think it’s cute :3
He’s a big ole softy and sun knows it and teases him about it.
Though another head cannon of mine is that the glitch/virus amplified moon’s persona to the point it wasn’t really an act anymore. He was acting like 10x the monster he would pretend to be. He’d lost sight of the soft side of himself.
Enjoy that image ;)
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annacoleman · 3 years
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I’m Peter, by the way.
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Glitched [Change Your Passwords]
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Hacker AU
TW: Implied Stalking, Language
Pairing: (NCT) Unknown x Reader
Genre: Choose Your Story, Thriller, Suspense, Mystery
(3/?) [Previous] | [Next]
[Main Masterlist] | [Glitched Masterlist]
Word Count: 3.9K
Notes: Sorry for the wait on this one! I’ve been studying for my classes, but don’t worry I won’t leave you all hanging haha. Also I’ve updated the video links to go to a video archive blog of mine because the private posts were just not working out for me so I hope this will be easier! I ask that you don’t follow that blog only for spoilers as I’ll upload videos/other medias there first prior to posting the actual fics so you might either get spoiled or just really confused lol. But yeah, I hope you enjoy!!
Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idol(s) mentioned/written/implied would never partake in or condone these actions. I would never wish any of these actions to occur to anyone mentioned in the writings of this story, nor do I wish any harm on them. The idols mentions in this work are meant to be acknowledged as no more than face claims and are not meant to represent the idols in any way.
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You sat down first with Jaemin and Yangyang still in line for whatever it was they had decided to eat for lunch, you, meanwhile, decided on changing your passwords. Figure, you have since decided on calling him that since that’s what he told you to tell Instagram, seemed very adamant on it, and thus here you were, changing literally all of your passcodes and writing them down on the side of the paper bag you requested.
But as you did this the creeping feeling of being watched never left you. The security cameras were pointed the other way and no one, to your knowledge, was making an active effort to stare at you. It had to be related to that scare from earlier, you had nearly forgotten about it while in your lab. You finished changing the last passcode and looked down at your phone, the last passcode being the one to your Tumblr account, and you opened your messages, secretly hoping that maybe you’d receive another message from Figure, but none were presented to you. No doubt changing your passcodes might have disconnected you from the person as a whole. But, of course, right when you least expect it, things always turn around. Then in came a message from user011719.
https://videoarchivesatzml.tumblr.com/post/644877251145515008/glitched-change-your-passwords-video
You played the video again. Why did it just stop mid-sentence? You tried to play it again but the message, much like the one you received earlier, disappeared. Like it was never there in the first place. You wondered what could have happened, if you didn’t know what you did already you would’ve assumed that he cut the recording too soon or that he ran out of WiFi, but this couldn’t have been the case, it was too easy, too simple.
But you were more concerned about another thing Figure had mentioned. To your knowledge, no one had used your phone. The only person that it could’ve been was… Jaehyun. But why would he have done that? There was no purpose as to why he would do that.
“(Y/N)!” Seonghwa called out to you and you waved.
“Oh, hello!”
“Oh, thank god, you have your phone,” he sighs. “Did Jaehyun give it to you?”
“Yeah, he did,” you were surprised by how convenient Seonghwa’s timing was, but you had to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Why?”
“Bambam was looking through it.”
“He was what?!”
“Yeah, that’s why Somi isn’t around right now, she’s probably beating his ass. He’s been here the longest but Somi doesn’t really give a fuck,” Seonghwa shakes his head. “Don’t worry, he didn’t open anything, he was just being a bitch.”
“How did he know my password?”
“You really should change your password from 0000, (Y/N), it’s too simple,” Seonghwa laughs.
“Oh god, don’t worry I already changed it. What did he want anyway?”
“I’m pretty sure he was just being stupid, Bambam acts like that but he’s not a dick, he looked surprised himself when he got your password, I figured I’d tell you because that was just out of line.”
“It was, yeah, thanks for telling me,” you nodded your head.
“It was the right thing to do, I’m gonna go head out now, I have to make sure Somi didn’t go too far, I’ll see you back in lab.”
“See you,” he waved at you again and walked out of the food court. You pulled out your phone and stared at it, people seriously have no boundaries. Bambam had already rubbed you the wrong way but this was honestly such a dick move, you shook your head.
You hoped that he didn’t see your Instagram, Seonghwa said that he didn’t see or open anything but still. You’d have to thank Somi later, but you still couldn’t believe that he was so shameless with it. The nerve of some people, if this were a cartoon you’d be certain that steam would be blowing out of your ears, you would definitely give him a piece of your mind back in lab later. You looked at the DMs, if anyone else saw this they would be more than just suspicious, no doubt, or they would think that you were crazy and laugh at you.
But looking at these DMs, you thought back to the video. Figure mentioned that there was someone keeping him captive, and with this knowledge, you felt your heart rate rise slightly, and you could only think of the worse. But, despite this, you were at least able to screenshot that one part that he asked you to send to not.here127, something that you were glad that you did because you hardly remembered what else he sent.
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You left the app and opened your notes app, then you tried to type out the screenshot. You got pretty far until about the second sentence, at that point the keyboard started lagging until it stopped working altogether.
“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself and restarted the app, trying to type out the message again, but still came the same result. You even tried restarting your phone altogether, but still, the same result. Until your keypad started moving itself, and you gasped loudly enough for some people to turn their heads. You dropped your phone on the table. “Uh, sorry, just family news,” you said aloud. Many of the people seemingly understood this and turned back around. But when you looked down at your phone, the lone sentence on your notes app read:
“Don’t. - Figure”
It was like you could feel your blood circulating through you. You had no idea how to feel right now, nor did you want to take the time to figure it out. Then it started typing again.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hacked into your phone but… something came up, and it would just be safer for you if I did this. I’d tell you what it was but it would be better if I didn’t. Just… tell him in person, okay?”
You nodded your head slowly and picked your phone back up, reopening Instagram. Part of you felt more awkward now knowing that this Figure was in your phone, probably watching you as you typed, but you wanted to give what limited trust you could. Then another foreign feeling came over you, one you’ve felt since entering this facility, actually, and when you looked to the corner of the room, you saw the camera focused right on you, then you continued the conversation.
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You stared at the camera that was still trained on you, then at your phone’s camera. You wanted to cover the camera, to be honest, but two things stopped you. One being how you would make fun of your friends when they did so, and two being how Figure had mentioned that the whole reason why he hacked into your phone was because “something came up.” Now, you aren't stupid. You could put two and two together and no doubt this “something” was related to this new person that not.here127 mentioned, Connect.
“So how’s your first day so far?” Jaemin asks once he sits down. You locked your phone and placed it back into your pocket.
“It’s great, it’s everything I could’ve hoped for, I just can’t believe that I’m finally here, you know?” You answered. Jaemin had his usual lopsided smile on while Yangyang sat down, he looked between both of you and a sly smirk crawled on his face. You knew that look, you knew what he was planning and you stomped on his foot before he could think about it.
“You okay, Yangyang?” Jaemin asks.
“Just fine,” he winces. “But how’s the hell lab, (Y/N)?”
“Actually not that bad… so far. But I shouldn’t jinx it,” you shook your head. “How about you, Lab V, right?”
“I think my mentor has it out for me. He’s always pointing out the little mistakes I make, it’s so nerve-racking…”
“Who’s your mentor?” Jaemin asks.
“Sicheng…” Yangyang frowns.
“Oh, you’re fine. He’s like that with everyone.”
“What does your lab work on?”
“Uh, it’s kind of weird,” Yangyang hums. “Some biomatter stuff.”
“You don’t know what you’re studying?!”
“I mean I do! But like, it’s weird,” Yangyang shook his head. “Technically, it’s called Biomatter Space Compression. But like, it’s weird because like… I think there’s more to it,” Yangyang frowns.
“So like what space does to the body?”
“Yeah, but like… you know what, forget it, I have no idea how to explain it,” Yangyang shakes his head. “Give me like a week to make sense of it,” he laughs.
“I used to be in that lab, and that’s probably the best way to explain it,” Jaemin sighs. A loud beeping noise goes off and Yangyang groans.
“Shut up,” your jaw drops while you fought back a smile. Yangyang reluctantly pulls out a device probably twice his age. “Is that a pager?!” You started to laugh.
“Yeah,” he holds it in his hand and shows you. “As soon as my supervisor busted this out I almost laughed out loud,” Yangyang chuckles.
“Oh god, that’s old…”
“I know, looks like he’s calling us all back in early, so I’ll see you after then,” Yangyang waves goodbye and leaves the cafeteria, leaving you and Jaemin behind.
“Ah, I guess lunch is almost over,” Jaemin stretches his arms back and yawns. “I’ll walk you back to the labs,” Jaemin tosses the paper bag into the trash bin and stands up, waiting for you to catch up to him. You quickly followed suit and walked next to him. You both exited the bustling lunch hall and walked back into the outdoor walkway, the grand structure never failing to amaze you but to be fair it is still your first day. You were both making a beeline for the labs, and you, of course, noticed the cameras discreetly following you the entire time. You soon approached your lab building and you both stopped in front of it.
“Thanks…” you didn’t really have much to say, what do you say in this situation? You both had only known each other briefly and never on the level to easily make small talk. You were about to go back inside when he said something rather peculiar.
“No problem… You must be pretty smart if you got this internship, you know. If you feel like something’s off, then it probably is,” he says. Then he walks off without giving you a chance to answer. You walked into the locker room with a heavy mind, putting your equipment back on and begrudgingly placing your phone back into the UV chamber, feeling at least a little more secure with your now changed passwords, then you walked back into the lab.
“(Y/N)!”
“Bambam,” the name came out harshly from your mouth and he shoots an awkward smile.
“You guys told (Y/N)?”
“Of course we did!” Seonghwa glares at him.
“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), he grabbed it because it’s the same model as his phone and he ended up opening it since you both coincidentally had the same password,” Somi sighs. “0000, really?! You have important lab information on your phone and your password is 0000?!”
“I know okay? I changed it,” Bambam rolls his eyes.
“To what? 1234?” Jaehyun laughs.
“Well, when we’re done here, I’m gonna change it again,” Bambam crosses his arms. “Sorry about that, (Y/N), it was a genuine mistake, I didn’t open anything, promise,” he says. Your shoulders relaxed, you couldn’t help mistakes, and though this was an eerie coincidence there wasn’t much you could say anyway.
“It’s fine,” you shook your head. Somi’s explanation made enough sense, you think. “Just be more careful next time, I’d rather not have a complete stranger going through my phone, mistakenly or not,” you said sternly. The other members of the lab group looked at you with a strange expression, maybe you said it a bit too harshly, and truthfully normally you’d shrug it off but with the whole thing going on with Figure, or Connect, or whoever the hell you were DMing on Instagram is just getting to you. Then there were those damn cameras, both around the facility and on your own phone.
“Sorry about that, I’m just a little stressed,” you shook your head and tried to play it off. Bambam starts laughing out loud and you flinched at the sudden outburst.
“Oh, don’t worry, we get it! Seonghwa was worse when he first started,” Bambam’s worried look is immediately replaced with a happier one while he clapped the other one’s shoulder. “You should’ve seen him, he snapped at all of us.”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh, you did,” Jaehyun chuckles and moves to the lab table. “But now, with all of that out of the way, we have to work,” Jaehyun says. Everyone moved to their stations quickly, picking up where you each left off prior to lunch. You were put on data recording, something not precisely fun but also the only thing you could currently be trusted with. You were amazed by how easily they all worked together, you couldn’t help but feel like you were just stepping on their toes really, but every time they’d call you over they’d be nice about it at the very least. You each moved around the clock nonstop, you walking around the rather large lab table with the rather large laptop to each station as the main researchers called you over to record something, and them occasionally overlapping in their stations as each of the trials were carried out and analyzed.
“Alright then,” Bambam stands up and stretches his back. “I’m going home.”
“Already?” You asked while you looked at the wall clock, it read 7:48 pm, about an hour away from clock out time. You then looked at the laptop in your hands and saw about 3/4s of the spreadsheet filled. “Don’t we need to finish the rest of this today?”
“Nah, the rest of the trials take about a day to develop, so we’re good on waiting, or at least I am,” Bambam says. “You did good, rookie, don’t worry about it,” he says.
“Oh, thanks,” you cleared your throat.
“Be safe on your way home then, Bambam,” Jaehyun says without looking up from his microscope. “Don’t worry, (Y/N), we don’t have strict clock-out times,” he says while turning the bulb off on the microscope.
“Heading out too?” Somi asks.
“Yup, you all stay safe,” Jaehyun waves at them and walks out of the lab, following close behind Bambam.
“I’m almost done here,” Somi twists open the pipette drip and watches the chemical drop into the solution. “Just have to finish developing these samples and recording color changes, if you want I can take it from here, (Y/N),” she offers.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, (Y/N), you’ve been walking around all day, I’m surprised you’re not lightheaded from all the times you walked around here,” she says. “I’m serious! Jaehyun left so he won’t know,” she says.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Seonghwa shrugs while he closes the mice cage.
“You’re cleared!” Somi smiles.
“Thanks, Somi,” you had on a tired smile, it was true, your feet were killing you with all the walking you’ve been doing and you haven’t had a chance to sit down.
“Get home safe,” she says.
“Do you need a ride home?” Seonghwa asks.
“No thank you, I’ll just take the bus,” you said, hoping that Yangyang was still here.
“Okay, see you tomorrow then,” Somi waved at you while you left. You entered the empty locker room and shrugged your lab coat off and hung it in your locker, placing your goggles on the top shelf and grabbing your bag. Then you turned around and, with your breath held, opened the UV chest. You saw your phone resting undisturbed in the same spot you left it and you felt a wave of relief while you picked it up. Everything was still in order and you spotted the text from Yangyang simply stating that his team messed up an experiment and they had to redo the whole thing and told you to just head home without him.
“Well, great,” you shook your head and walked out into the darkened facility. “West wing…” you mumbled to yourself, following the signs quickly. You pushed open the double doors and walked out into the nighttime, the moon already in the sky. You opened Instagram and quickly read through the conversation again while you descended the steps, and you soon noticed the car parked in front of you, and as you walked over to it, someone stopped you.
“Oh, (Y/N)!” Jaehyun called out to you, he looked like he was just about to re-enter the building. “Perfect timing,” he says while holding up his phone.
“Oh, hello,” you said. He was the first person who came up to you out here.
“I forgot that you weren’t in our work group chat, we were planning on getting dinner together,” he shows you the conversation. You spotted Somi’s text saying that she forgot to tell you about it and asked if anyone had your number. “Want to come?” He asks. You quickly glanced at the car behind him, it hadn’t moved since you walked out and the windows were tinted.
[[Follow Jaehyun or Go to the Car]]
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General Tag List: @vickylamore @hangsxng @mizzdivagirl7-blog @sehunnies-hunnie96 @roses09020617 @bat-shark-repellant @cloudreads @awesomei @raeincitizen @here-aeth
Glitched: @red-moon-dream​ @vinmylife @tyuningkai @fortrest @leesalts @tvehyungs-gf @gaiyofanfiction @lvvcky 
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valpus-writing · 3 years
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I love you
Its your lucky day for your pleasure I will be posting this story in parts here until it is finished and fully uploaded on AO3
Characters: Antisepticeye, Actorwkm, ActorMark, Chase brody, Marvin the magnificent, Henrik/Mention/ Jackaboy man
Pairing: Anti/Actor, Antisepticeye/ActorMark, Marvelsepticeye, Marvin/Jackaboy man.
Rating:PG
Warning: None
Description: What happens when a creature who thought he couldn’t feel love and someone who never wanted to love again fall in love?
This is based on Billie Eilish’s song I love you and it doesn’t follow the whole story Just Actor and Anti realizing that they are in love and the feelings that go with that because I was too lazy to write everything. Not to mention I’m sad and there are not enough stories with these two
Word count: 1,621
It was early morning and the only reason Anti knew that was because he could hear the sound of Marks’s alarm going off on the other side of the bed and then the groaning of the man next to him. Soon enough the sound stopped as the actor rolled over and turned the alarm off before turning back so he was face to face with Anti. The virus looked at him for just a moment enjoying this time next to him surprised he hadn’t been asked to leave yet. It was a rare treat to be able to be this close with Mark, at least in this calm of away. He watched as Mark looked him over for a moment before moving closer to him moving a hand up to gently run his hands through Anti’s hair.
The virus smiled contently wrapping an arm around Mark’s waist and pulling him close. It was a nice moment of peace between them something neither of them got to see very often. They stayed like that for a long time before the second alarm went off about fifteen minutes later. Mark got up this time and turning it off. Anti opened his eyes admiring the bites and marks that started on the human’s neck and moved their way down his body. As Mark slipped his robe on to cover himself of the way to the shower he caught a glimpse of the smirking demon on his bed and huffed.
“Proud of yourself are you?” He says and Anti could hear the annoyance in the voice but it didn’t have the same harshness to it as it used to. He couldn’t quite remember when that harshness had faded from the other’s voice but he knew he hadn’t heard it for a while.
“What can I say I’m good at my job.”
“That ‘job’ is getting me no fans in the makeup department on set.”
“My bad,” Anti responded but he didn’t mean it and Mark knew he didn’t so he just shook his head and turned to the bathroom before stopping as if he forgot something. He looked at Anti who was just getting out of the bed. He opened his mouth to say something before shaking his head and going into the bathroom. Anti was surprised he hadn’t been kicked out but he wasn’t going to push his luck and stood all the way up stretching before grabbing his clothes off the floor and getting dressed. His form glitched harshly and he was now in his bedroom at the Septic house.
The fact that the Ipliers didn’t live together had always surprised him. He could understand why Actor didn’t stay with everyone else being as almost any of the other Ipliers would kill him given the chance but other than people who were together the Ipliers all lived on their own. But he supposed when you had that many egos that were prone to infighting it made sense. For the most part, the Septics all lived together the only exception being when someone was away for work, or himself he supposed. Anti had a room in the Septic house but it was more like a pocket of void he had put in the attic, and besides he hadn’t been there lately as he had been for the most part at Mark’s manor.
Anti shook his head at the thought of the actor and grabbed some clean clothes before making his way to the bathroom hoping it would be empty. Thankfully it was and the virus made quick work of showering. When he got out of the shower he stopped to look at himself in the mirror and the dark purple spots that covered his own neck. There weren’t nearly as many marks as what he had left on the actor not to mention they were harder to see considering most of them were right above the gash in his throat. He let out a bit of a sigh before getting dressed. He was growing soft for that man and he didn’t know how to feel about that.
Anti was never very good with feeling, so he would push this down just like he did everything else as he made his way out of the bathroom with a yawn and a slight glitch. He made his way down to the kitchen where coffee had already been started, likely by Henrik as he was normally the first ego up due to having to get to the hospital early. In the kitchen, he walked past Chase and grabbed the bottle of whisky out of his hand before he even got the chance to pour it in his coffee.
“Hey!” Chase protested although he didn’t fight hard for it back just glared at the glitching male who was taking a swing of it straight from the bottle.
“You don’t mix whisky with coffee, we have coffee liquor for a reason,” Anti replied capping the bottle of whisky and putting it on top of the fridge. He then went into the fridge and pulled out the bottle of baileys; sliding it over to Chase on the counter. The virus grabbed out the jar of eyes from the back of the fridge and cracked it open as he shut the door of the fridge with his foot.
“I see someone is back from their boyfriends,” Marvin says as he walked in and saw Anti who snorted at the other’s comment.
“Mark is not my boyfriend.”
“And JJ can talk.” Marvin shot back and the virus rolled his eyes as he moved to sit at the counter across from Chase.
“If you aren’t careful you won’t be able to talk cat.” Anti hissed at him and Marvin just smirked as he made his way to the fridge to make his own breakfast.
“You would never,” He teased and Anti rolled his eyes again knowing the other was right.
“Your right but I’m not above cutting off that tail of yours.” As he said this he could see the magician’s tail wrap around his leg as if to keep it safe as he pulled out the eggs from the fridge.
“Okay, okay so you’re not dating him, then why are you over there all the time?”
“Sex.”
“Oh come on you are over there more than for that to be the only reason you are there.” Marvin fired back as he cracked his eggs into the pan on the stove.
“How is your relationship with Jackie going?” Anti asked deflecting what Marvin had said altogether. He didn’t want to think about what his relationship with Mark past just being fuck buddies. Marvin could tell what Anti was doing as his tail flicked behind him in annoyance but let it happen.
“As good as it can be considering he is a reckless idiot at times and insist on going out even when hurt so that’s been a mess.” He says and Anti popped an eye in his mouth before responding.
“Well, he’s a hero and will put everyone before himself. You know if you want him to stay home to rest you could always just make yourself the damsel distress.” Anti suggested and Marvin tilted his head in a way as to make it seem as though he was considering it. “I could even help if you wanted me to, or teach you one of the more complex trap spells.” He was more than willing to help as he needs the distraction.
“Sounds good to me.”
“What sounds good?” Jackie says walking into the kitchen with a yawn.
Chase opened his mouth to say something before Anti shot him a glare and he shut up as Marvin spoke. “Nothing. You going to want some eggs?”
“That sounds great,” Jackie says walking over and wrapping his arms around Marvin’s waist and Anti made a gagging sound. “Oh shut up you can complain when you have enough dignity to cover your neck Demon,” Jackie says but pulled away after a kiss to Marvin’s cheek choosing instead to sit on the counter.
“Boohoo,” Anti says a smirk on his face knowing he was doing it just to get under the other’s skin.
“You are completely annoying you know that,” Jackie says looking over at the virus who had opened his mouth to reply to the hero before his phone went off. Anti pulled it out of his pocket and although he didn’t have the number saved he knew it was Mark’s. Not wanting to seem desperate he waiting a moment before answering it.
“Hello, jackass.”
“What the fuck is the point of you having a phone if you don’t answer it?” Mark snapped and Anti just smirked.
“I knew it was you and you are so used to getting what you want I figured I would make you wait.”
“Prick,”
“You love it.” There was a slight pause from Mark at that comment but before Anti could tease him about it or think more about what that could mean Mark spoke up again.
“There is a cast party tonight and we are supposed to bring our partners and I’m not going to look single. So dress nice, and be at my place at five.”
“Is this a d̴͔̓á̸̬t̵̢̓e̵̟̿?” Anti asked both his voice and body glitching at the word date.
“Hardly.”
“And if I don’t dress nice?”
“Then I will change you myself.”
“Kinky.”
“You are a horribly dick-minded creature.”
“You didn’t mind that last night.” There was a click on the other end as the Actor hung up on the virus.
“Not my boyfriend you said.” Marvin teases before ducking at the knife that was thrown at him and got stuck on the cupboard door.
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heyimviri · 4 years
Text
Track 09. Night Knuckles
“Love Is Exciting.”
IMPORTANT: I have a question for my readers, would you guys prefer a gn!reader? I know I’ve been auto writing from a female perspective, but I want to include everyone and make everyone feel comfortable. Also, would you prefer I write in second person? I’ve also been auto writing from a third person, but I feel like second person makes you, as a reader, feel more like y/n isn’t just some random. I’d love to hear your preferences, so don’t be afraid to comment about them.
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Two tables were pushed together in the cafe, eight people sat around them while Akaashi sat at a table by the window, waiting for Akari to show up across the street. The group was far enough for it not to seem suspicious, and if she saw them, she was looking for them. It was 10:15, and with each passing minute y/n’s anticipation grew. The thought of confronting Akari brought feeling of anxiety, but it was the best feeling of anxiety to ever exist.
Ten minutes later, the front entrance swung open, and there was a short melody had played. For the first time, y/n saw Akari in the flesh, and holy shit, she was pretty. The confidence she carried was so noticeable that it was nearly impossible to ignore, it was intimidating. Per usual, she began overthinking, wondering if Akaashi would actually be able to ruin his friendship with the stunning woman who was just a few feet away.
Being brought back to reality by a hand on her shoulder, y/n looked beside her to meet Hinata’s brown irises. He gave her this look that told her to stop thinking so pessimistically, and to pay attention to the scene in front of her before she started jumping to conclusions. With that much needed reassurance, y/n found that Akari had instantly noticed Akaashi’s cold expression, and he was making it very clear that he was upset with her beyond words.
“Hey... Keiji.” Her words shook with anxiety, and the smile on her face that held all that confidence was gone. She cautiously took her seat, as if Akaashi would rip right through her if she moved too quickly.
“Nice to see you, Akari.” His demeanor was still as calm as it always was, but the way his words came out hit Akari like a speeding car. They were laced with a venom that you would only hear if you were trying to.
It was silent for a couple minutes, the air was thick, and Akari felt as if it was getting hard to breath. With each passing moment there was more and more thoughts that wracked up in her brain, trying to figure out what could have caused Akaashi to display his emotions so freely. She knew he wasn’t apathetic, but she also had never seen him really react to anything. It was almost terrifying. Eventually, Akaashi was tired of the silence, and he spoke.
“Akari.” She jumped.
“Yes..?” She stuttered.
“Are you nervous?” Her eyes widened a bit.
“No.” She lied.
“Do you know why I asked you to come out here today?” Within seconds, his intense gaze was gone, and her heart rate calmed.
“No, but I knew it had to be something of importance. You never go anywhere you don’t have to.” She finally learned back in her chair and dropped her guard.
“So what did you want to talk about, Keiji?” She brought her hand up to her face to observe her nails.
“Nothing really, I just wanted you to know that I know about the texts you sent to y/n.” He kept it as casual as she did, being sure not to let any of his anger mix in with his words until she realized what he said.
“Oh, that girl? Yeah, she was being annoying so I got rid of-” she paused and clamped her hand over her mouth.
The moment she realized what she had said, what he had said, she short circuited. Regret washed over her body, only because she felt bad for herself. Her immediate reaction was to leave as fast as she possibly could, but her exit was blocked by a lot of tall men, and one familiar person. In that moment, all color drained from her face.
“Akari, you know that I trust you, or trusted you, more than anything. So, the last thing I’d expect from leaving my phone around you is for you sneak behind my back and create an issue.”
Tears welled up in Akari’s eyes and a lump in her throat prevented her from speaking, there was nothing left to say anyway.
“I only called you here today to tell you that our so called ‘friendship’ is over.” Akaashi stood up from his seat, sighing in relief.
Everyone was ready to leave Akari there the way she was, guilt running through her vains, but a certain someone was still unsatisfied with the fact that she wasn’t in complete shambles yet.
“I don’t remember your name, but I have something to say to you. Whatever you thought you had going with Akaashi, it was never actually happening, and you chose the wrong people to try and pull some shit with.”
Akari’s legs gave out on her after hearing the familiar line that feel from Tsukishima’s lips and the tears fell from her eyes at a rapid rate. Akaashi gave her a sad look before exiting the building. Everyone felt bittersweet about the entire situation, but they were all just glad it was over and done with.
“Hey Keiji?”
“Yes, y/n?”
“Are you sad?”
“About what?”
“About your friend.”
“She’s not my friend anymore, I don’t think she ever was. I think she just really liked me.”
“Hm... I really like you.”
“I really like you too, y/n. That’s why you and I are going to continue to be great friends.”
“Oh...yeah. We’re going to best friends, so watch out Bōkutō, I might just steal Akaashi away from you!”
A long moan of Akaashi’s name echoed through the alleyway as the group began their journey home. Eventually, y/n fell all the way to the back, earning a few looks from her roommates. One big group split into two as Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Kageyama gathered around y/n.
“Guys...” She whispered quiet enough for only then to hear.
“I just got friend zoned.”
・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・
Track 08. | Track 10.
Series Masterlist (Glitched)
Taglist: @officiallykuute @winunk @sayakaaaaaa @simplesammyx @anngelllla
A/N: It’s officially back from it’s hiatus, but with school starting again, it’s going to a bit difficult to upload as often as I’d like to. I’ll try to make a schedule for myself, so that I can have some writing days, but forgive me if it takes a while to get out new chapters. Anyway, as always, I hope you all enjoy!
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outrightelm · 3 years
Text
Darkest Elements Chapter Two:
*Welcome back to the second chapter of Darkest Elements. If you guys like this chapter, don’t be afraid to heart it or comment. That would be greatly appreciated. The ‘Keep Reading’ tag will be there just in case you guys want to keep reading beyond this point. Warning: there is some nudity for furry animals. Enjoy!*
Over a day later, Ms. Crawly was trying to search up the image Johnny took yesterday with Mike staring up at the screen of the computer in her office in the theater.
Ms. Crawly's frail body trembled when she tried to upload the image into the computer to search it up. However, the computer was super slow.
Mike yawned. "So...does your computer take this long to upload an image?"
"Usually," Ms. Crawly answered while drinking her coffee to stay awake.
Mike huffed. "Well, that doesn't sound fun."
They waited for a couple of more minutes to witness the computer uploading slowly but it's halfway on the bar.
"How did you get your voice to sound like Frank Sinatra?" Ms. Crawly ignited the conversation to keep the bored mouse awake.
Mike shrugged his shoulders. "Practice. Lots of practice." With a soft smile at the iguana, Mike glanced up at the old lady. "I'm surprised that you think that I sounded like Frank Sinatra."
"Your voice reminded me so much of Frank Sinatra. You know, back in my day, we used to have record labels--" As Ms. Crawly continued on and on about the golden old days, Mike lost his soft smile and almost want to fall asleep. But listening to the old lady talk was better than just waiting in awkward silence for this stupid old computer to load. "--You would think that he sounds a bit boring but his voice is such a soothing sound to hear."
Mike kept hearing vibrating sounds as he picked up his phone with a sigh. "I hate group texts."
"Huh?" Ms. Crawly tilted her head.
Mike glanced up at the lizard. "I'm getting constant texts from the theater group in saying that 'Oh, I'll be there to escort you today'. Or, 'have somebody escort you'."
"Well, Mr. Moon was kidnapped...and he was by himself when he's kidnapped--"
"I was literally referring to Rosita telling Meena that she's going to escort her to the theater. She's a big elephant. If anything, she should be the one escorting Rosita and not the other way around," Mike spoke with a shrug. "And Johnny can beat the heckle out of the kidnapper like a red-headed stepchild without a sweat."
"Really?" Ms. Crawly gasped in shock.
Mike gave her a deadpan stare at her. "What part of being in a gang do you not get?"
"I know he's part of the gang but Johnny isn't violent."
Mike let out a laugh. "Just because Johnny seems nonviolent and nice, does not mean he doesn't know a thing or two about taking people down."
The vibrating sounds rumbled on Ms. Crawly's desk right in front of him. Mike noticed Johnny calling Mike.
Mike smirked. "Speak of the devil." The mouse picked up the phone and answered. "What's up, King Kong?"
"Mike, do you guys have anything on that image yet?" Johnny asked from another end of the line.
Mike huffed again. "Nope. Lizard brain's computer is taking forever to load."
"Bloody Mary," the mouse heard the gorilla groaned deeply.
Mike shrugged. "If only we have the powers to make the computer go faster."
On cue, the image was finally uploaded onto Ms. Crawly's computer, earning broadened eyes from both Ms. Crawly and Mike.
"Oh look, it appeared on cue," Mike pointed out with a little giggle.
"But...there's nothing," Ms. Crawly added with her voice trembling.
Mike blinked while sighing irritably. "Nevermind, the useless box doesn't have anything on that symbol we saw yesterday."
"Keep searching. There might be something on there. The internet's got everything, mate."
Mike rolled his eyes at Johnny's determination. "We'll keep searching. But if we can't find anything, I'll blame it on bad luck."
"Just keep searching, Mike," Johnny said before hanging up the phone.
~.~
Meanwhile, Johnny was walking through the streets with Eddie, Ash, and Gunter.
"What did Mike say?" Eddie asked quickly.
Johnny put his phone in his pocket with a groan. "Well, so far, he and Ms. Crawly hadn't found anything yet on that image."
Eddie sighed deeply. "I hope the police knows more than we do right now."
The four animals arrived at the police station and entered the building.
Eddie had the picture on his phone as he walked up to the front desk.
"What can we do for you today?" the officer at the front desk asked.
Eddie pulled out his phone. "Well, yesterday, when you guys were on the scene, you guys missed this."
The sheep was able to show the picture of the symbol found on a machine yesterday. "There's a machine that mimicked Buster's dad's voice and that's why he got sidetracked. Do you think you guys know what this is?"
The officer gently took Eddie's phone and scanned the image. "What's your case number?"
"Um...2347," Eddie answered while scratching the back of his head.
The officer looked up at the image and tilted his head in confusion. "What's the name of the victim?"
"Buster Moon," Eddie responded desperately.
The officer searched the name but...something was off. "I can't find anything for your case and...I can't find anything on Buster Moon."
"Do you efen hafe der birth certificate for him?" Gunter questioned in his German accent.
The officer looked through files for Buster Moon. "I can't find anything on him. No birth certificate and...even his social security."
"That is ridiculous. He should have all those things," Johnny pointed out to the office.
Eddie pondered for a moment. "What about his father or his mother?"
"Names?" the officer asked.
"Dave and Daniella," Eddie replied nervously.
The officer searched up the names with a confused gaze. "Sir...I can't find them either."
"Not even their birth certificates or their social security?" Ash jumped in to question.
The officer shook his head. "Maybe there's a glitch in the system. We'll have to--"
The officer went dead silent as he looked up at the entire folder named Moon...eyes went wide in shock. "The Moon Family...it's not even there."
"What?!" The four animals shrieked.
"How is zat possible?!" Gunter shouted.
Johnny immediately whipped out his cellphone and called Mike's number again.
"We didn't find anything on that symbol, kid," Mike answered with a sigh.
"Mike, I need you and Ms. Crawly to look up the name Buster Moon," Johnny immediately demanded.
There's an awkward pause.
"Uh...why--?"
"Just do it," Johnny responded urgently.
Mike scoffed. "Pssh, there's going to be a million results about--"
Mike stopped talking, losing that charismatic arrogant voice. From the end of the line, he was at a loss for words.
Then a shaky sigh came through the phone. "Kid...there ain't nothing on Mr. Moon."
Johnny had his eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Ms. Crawly and I are seeing this. Right, Crawly?"
"Y-Yes," the gorilla heard a frail old woman spoke in a horrified tone.
Johnny blinked in disbelief as he hung up the phone with horror-struck on his face. That's when he turned to the animals with him. "Guys...Someone just erased Mr. Moon out of existence."
There's a tense horrifying silence that blocked out all the other sounds in the police station.
~.~
Buster's back was not having a great day. The ache came from the bars on his lower back, with absolutely no mattress underneath. With a deep groan, his blue eyes began to open, blinking until his vision could get clear. He noticed the plain dirty gray walls.
Buster glanced down at the linen clothes that seemed to fit him decently. No nice suit or bowtie to make his day. He looked around his surroundings again.
Am I in prison?
Buster felt like he got punched in the face and gut when he tried to sit up from his bed, which did have a mattress but it's thin and stained with blood. The koala rubbed his eyes with another groan.
"You should've held your breath, kid," a familiar voice spoke.
Buster quickly turned to the same zebra he saw earlier in the truck last night. He felt a migraine while trying to wake up.
"W-Where am I? What's going on?" Buster glanced up at the zebra desperately.
The zebra frowned while taking a bite of his bitter grass. "Have a seat, kid. I'll tell you everything."
Buster noticed the zebra pointing at the chair across from him. The koala took a deep breath and slowly approached the table, sitting across from the zebra.
"Wh-What were they doing to me last night?" Buster asked timidly.
The zebra glanced up at the koala. "They were baptizing you, kid. Well...not in the way that it should happen anyway. They're all loons."
"Then...why do you stay?"
The zebra let out a chuckle. "What makes you think I want to stay? I don't like this place but I can't get out. And if you do get out...well, you'd be lucky to be able to get out of here alive."
Buster breathed heavily while looking around to notice the bars that kept them in this room. "I-I can't stay here."
"You don't have a choice, kid," the zebra responded grimly. "I wish I can give you hope but...doing that will only lead to disaster."
Buster tilted his head. "Wh-What's your name?"
There's a pause.
"Zorc," the zebra finally answered.
"I'm Buster Moon," Buster introduced himself.
"I already know who you are. You're the famous showman that owns the Moon Theater."
Buster blinked in surprise. "Yes...that's me."
The zebra, Zorc, took another bite of his grass. "We all already know who you are. I guess that's why you're valuable to those loons."
"I don't understand."
Zorc sighed deeply. "You know that black bear that said you're the Chosen One and the turtle priest that said you're worthy?"
Buster nodded his head slowly.
"Well, you must be worthy for some reason. And...according to those priests, the gods don't lie about the Chosen One."
"The black bear is a priest?"
"Used to be," Zorc explained while drinking his room-temperature water. "That's before the followers weren't so convinced. Some argue that there are four or five gods."
"D-Do you even believe in any of this...stuff?"
"No...but I rolled with it since I'm their prisoner until they're done with me," Zorc replied. He stood up from his seat. "Come with me."
Zorc walked up to the bars holding both him and the koala. "You see those four guys over there?"
Buster got up and walked towards the bar to see four men; a lion, a leopard, a rhino, and a bull. He could assume that those strong male prisoners were the ones Zorc was pointing at. "Yes...what about them?"
"They're prisoners just like us. Sadly, they were here longer than us. Those loons that had us behind bars torture those men like there's no tomorrow. And they eventually became the shell of their former selves, hungry for power. Believing in every word these loons told and willingly baptized themselves every day to obtain the powers from the gods."
Buster glanced up at the zebra. "That's...sick."
"By a month, the strong ones stay and survive while the weak ones were sacrificed to the gods," Zorc further explained while both of them gazed at all the prisoners, some were naked and some were clothed.
"Why are some of them naked?" Buster asked with a brow raised.
Zorc sighed deeply. "It's a sign of weakness. They believed that the strong should be clothed while the weak ones were left completely naked. The gods don't like weak people."
Buster shook his head. "That's sick."
"Yeah, you get used to seeing it," Zorc said with a sigh.
Buster looked around while shaking his head. "I can't stay here. The gods can call me weak or strong all they want but I'm not staying here. I got people to go back to. A theater to run! Musicals to produce! There's so much I want to do. I'm not going to stay here."
Zorc was silent for a moment at Buster's determination. Then, he smiled softly. "I like your spirit, kid. You might want to keep that."
Buster chuckled a bit to himself until it got serious again. "Do you know if there's a way out?"
Zorc pressed his lips together. "Yeah...But it's going to be hard and it's going to be risky."
"I'm Buster Moon. I'm known for taking risks."
Zorc grinned. "I like your spirit, kid. I guess that's why you're worthy."
~.~
"I can't believe it!" Mike shouted while trying to look for images or even the slightest search history on Buster Moon. "Our boss is erased from existence."
"What should we do?" Ms. Crawly uttered in fear.
Mike pondered deeply. "Well, if computer files are erased, then what about the papers? Like actual papers with information about Buster."
Ms. Crawly gasped happily. "I still have those. Even his birth certificate!"
"Great! Get those out!" Mike replied excitedly as Ms. Crawly got out the papers and files containing Buster's information.
"I have all of it in case the computers glitched out," Ms. Crawly said with a smile on her wrinkly face.
"Ms. Crawly, you're a genius!" Mike hopped onto the iguana's shoulder. "Onward to the police station!!!"
Ms. Crawly held the files close to her chest as she got up and began to amble slowly across the lobby like an old lady trying to get to a room in the house.
Mike glanced at her questioningly while debating in his mind whether he should be the one to take the files and Ms. Crawly could just stay back.
Over twenty-five minutes later, Ms. Crawly walked out of the theater with the file close to her chest and Mike on her shoulder.
Ms. Crawly walked down on the street with a happy hum as Mike groaned deeply. While waiting, Mike noticed a shadowy figure watching them. It disappeared as soon as Mike caught it with his sight as his ears twitched to hear footsteps.
"So...how fast can you run in the face of danger?" Mike asked Ms. Crawly.
Ms. Crawly glanced up at Mike. "Uh...I think pretty fast...why?"
Mike shivered as he heard footsteps. "I think we need to run."
A sudden dagger was thrown right beside Ms. Crawly's face, causing her to screech in fear and sprint from whoever was chasing them. Both of the animals didn't look back as Mike was off of her shoulder and guiding her through the alleyways to get away from whoever was chasing them.
"Run! Run!" Mike urged as he and Ms. Crawly made their way towards the police station. They're almost there...but there's one problem.
"Oh no! The file!" Ms. Crawly cried as the file was snatched away from her by the gust of wind she's running against.
Mike finally glanced back with a gasp to see the file on the ground.
"Ms. Crawly, get to the police station! I got the file! Go! Go!"
Ms. Crawly ran off while Mike went back for the file. When the mouse looked up, he saw not one but two shadowy figures coming towards him. Mike yelped as he tried to lift the file and drag it away. When the shadowy figures approached him, Ms. Crawly stepped out from the side and used her pepper spray on them, causing them to screech in pain.
"Back off!" Ms. Crawly demanded as she picked Mike up but forgot the file on the ground.
"Wait, Ms. Crawly! Ms. Crawly!" Mike shouted but it was too late as the iguana ran into the police station and shut the door completely.
Both Mike and Ms. Crawly breathed heavily from running while they noticed Eddie, Gunter, Johnny, and Ash.
"Are you guys okay?" Eddie gasped in worry.
Mike groaned deeply. "Ms. Crawly, we forgot the file!"
"The file to what?" Ash interrogated.
"To Mr. Moon!" Mike blurted out. "There's...these shadowy people chasing us and they almost had us if Ms. Crawly hadn't pepper-sprayed them in the face."
Johnny tilted his head. "And the file?"
"Well, I don't know, they probably took it for all we know!" Mike shouted while breathing heavily.
Johnny peeked out of the police station to find that the file they mentioned disappeared while he turned to them.
"What do you think they'll do with the file?" Ms. Crawly asked timidly, her old voice coming off as guilty.
"I don't know. Burn it," Mike said with an abrasive shrug.
Johnny sighed heavily. "Bloody Mary."
"So...what now since we lost the paper file?" Eddie asked hesitantly.
Johnny pondered deeply while looking up at the group. "I think I know someone who might know this symbol."
Johnny was inferring to the symbol he took a picture of on his phone while showing the group.
Everyone blinked in confusion as to who Johnny was talking about.
~.~
Johnny, Gunter, Ash, Mike, Ms. Crawly, and Eddie were gathered at the prison while waiting for more people to come. Right on cue, Rosita and Meena entered the prison with worried looks on their faces.
"Did you guys happen to find anything on Moon?" Rosita asked gently.
"Wait, before you ask further about Moon, search him up and see what you think," Mike replied as Rosita and Meena gave each other brief glances before getting out their phones and searched up their boss's name.
Meena was the first to gasp. "There's nothing on him."
Rosita tilted her head. "That's odd. He's famous...he should be on there."
"They don't have any files on both Mr. Moon and his parents at the police station," Johnny implied, explaining the situation.
"Ya! As far as zhey know, he's erased from existence!" Gunter added.
Meena clutched her phone tightly. "But...But who would do this to him?!"
"Well, that's what we're going to find out," Johnny responded as the policewoman came out to them.
"He's ready to see you and your friends in the cafeteria," the policewoman stated blankly.
"Thank you, ma'am. Let's go," Johnny determined.
The theater group stood up from their seats and headed to follow the policewoman through the prison full of criminals wearing orange jumpsuits with their numbers on their chests that some don't wear proudly.
The group tensed up except Johnny and Mike, who'd seen worst in prisons in their visiting times. They finally entered the cafeteria with no one in there except a familiar huge gorilla waiting on one of the metal tables. The gorilla smiled at Johnny as he was about to get up and hug his boy until the chains holding him yanked a bit.
"Oi, I was just giving my boy a hug," The gorilla growled at the officers holding his chains.
The officers lowered their guards as the gorilla went right back to hugging his son with a bright smile on his face.
"Oh, there's my boy!" The gorilla said proudly, earning a chuckle from Johnny.
Johnny's father noticed the theater group behind him, all staring at him with widened eyes in shock and some sweat nervously.
Johnny turned to his friends. "Oh, Dad, this is the theater group I was with. Dad, meet Eddie, Gunter, Rosita, Ash, Mike, Meena, and Ms. Crawly. Guys, meet Dad."
"Hello there." Johnny's father waved to them shyly.
Gunter waved back dramatically. "Yo, Yo, Yo!"
"Hey," Mike uttered with a nod.
"Sup?" Ash responded with a small smile.
Meena edged a nervous grin. "Hi."
"Nice to meet you," Rosita replied.
Ms. Crawly blinked for a second while plastering a smile.
"Hey, how are you doing?" Eddie countered back.
Johnny's father nodded his head. "I'm doing alright. Now, I finally meet all of your--wait...your boss is a koala, right? Where is he?"
Johnny glanced over at the group to signal them to sit down. And so they did while Johnny and his father took a seat across from each other.
Eddie glanced at the group with a whisper. "I think it's safe if we let Johnny do all the talking."
Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.
Johnny didn't hear them as he bit his lips. "Well, here's the thing, Dad. My boss, Mr. Moon...he's kidnapped."
"Kidnapped? By who?" His father asked worriedly since he knew how much Buster meant to Johnny.
Johnny took out his phone and turned it on. Then he scrolled to the gallery to find the picture of the symbol on it. "We don't know but we know that the people who kidnapped him had this symbol on it."
Johnny turned his phone to face his father as his father examined the symbol. The same inscription appeared to be red like blood, with the shape of a crescent moon drawn out. There were also four corners on the inscription that Johnny's father could see.
However, Johnny saw that his father's face turned pale instantly after seeing the symbol.
"Where did you find that symbol?" His father asked.
Johnny bit his lip. "We found it in some shady alleyway. We don't know if it's a gang sign--"
"That ain't no gang sign," Johnny's father pointed out, his pupils shrunken in fear.
"Maybe it's a company sign?" Mike suggested with a shrug.
Johnny's father shook his head. "It's definitely not a company sign."
"Then...what is it?" Ash asked timidly.
"That...is a cult sign," Johnny's father pointed out.
Everyone blinked as they gave each other brief shocked glances.
"For vhat cult?" Gunter managed to ask.
Johnny's father took deep breaths in fear as he turned to see the guards were not paying attention to his conversation with his son and his theater friends. "Listen to me and listen to me very closely. The cult with that sign is nothing but a bunch of loons who collect people and make them disappear without a trace. The cult with that symbol is called the Council of the Elementals. Those people are nuts!"
"Why does this tell me that you knew about that?" Mike questioned nervously.
"That's because I...well...was almost a part of it," Johnny's father responded.
"What do you mean by 'almost'?" Eddie inquired further.
Johnny's father sighed heavily while smoothing his fur on the back of his neck. "I was almost a part of it until I learned what they are or what they are capable of. The cult was based on nature...believing it to be one with nature. Basically, I thought it's like meditation except there are gods within these meditations. There are four elements and with the elements came four gods. The god of fire, the god of air, the god of earth, and the god of water. The fifth god is complicated since there were only four elements and five gods. Anyways, they used to be this peaceful group until Scalio came into control of the council and corrupted it to the point where it just...turned into a murder house. I left before Scalio took over since I saw little corruption from that disgusting lizard and...well, it's been corrupted since then. Instead of waiting for members, they collect people around the city to see if they were worthy to hold the gods' powers. Which is just a chemical they put into this special rock and if anyone who touches the power would either get torn apart or 'chosen'...which being chosen never...never happened!"
The group leaned in to listen to Johnny's father as he was informing them about what's going down at the cult.
"So, they rig that so that they could kill people?" Ash responded in disgust.
Johnny's father gazed down at the table. "They rigged that so that the people believe in the gods and their powers...I mean, I'm not sure how advance they were and I'm glad I left at the time that I did. Otherwise, I would've been a blind follower killing innocent people."
"Is that why you weren't much into kidnapping people?" Ms. Crawly uttered thoughtfully.
Johnny's father went silent for a minute as he pondered about the question carefully. "As I said, I left before anything horrible happen. But...I'm not one to say that I should or shouldn't have helped people there. I would check out that old observatory---uh, what is it called? Oh, yeah, Millard's Observatory since they used to gather there."
Johnny smiled at his father. "Thank you, dad. I'm sorry that this visit isn't as fun as the others."
"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm glad to officially meet all of your little friends you talked about so much," Johnny's father responded with a proud smile. But it quickly turned back into a frown. "I would be careful though...and I wouldn't have high hopes. Your friend might not make it through."
"If I know one thing about Buster, he always makes everything through...even at the worst times," Eddie responded while getting up from his seat and turning to exit.
The theater group followed except for Johnny. Johnny stayed behind with his father for a moment while looking up to him.
"Is there anything else we need to know about the cult?" Johnny asked softly.
His father shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I would catch up with your group if I were you. You shouldn't wander through the streets alone."
"Okay, Dad...goodbye."
"Goodbye."
The gorillas got up from their seats as Johnny gave his father one last hug before running to catch up with the theater group.
Johnny approached the gang outside of the prison while they all looked around. Mike took out his phone and searched up the place Johnny's father mentioned.
"So...Millard's Observatory, huh?" Mike replied.
Everyone nodded their heads in agreement with silent 'yes'.
"There we go. We got the direction to the place," Mike indicated to the group.
"Let's go," Eddie determined as everyone began to follow the directions to Millard's Observatory.
To Be Continued...
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znts · 4 years
Note
now I'm curious who are your favourite graphic makers and why?
I could list 10+ of them but it would be a super long one so I’ll write some that I really, really love dearly and have been a huge inspiration to me throughout the years of making graphics until now.
Will put it under read more.
@gray I seriously don’t know where to start. Jay just... makes art. The kind of art that reminds you of old, 1800-1900 classic paintings you see in the museum? Their high class taste in everything (fashion, art, literature, music, literally everything) enhances the qualities in every graphic they create. And everything they make always have a meaning behind it, it’s never the “idk what to put here so I’ll just do the same thing like what I did on my prev gfx” and it tells a story in a very poetic way. Their color palettes are always so on point and there’s just something about their style that makes it theirs and theirs only.
@dearestsoul Bea and her narrative based graphics, I could never not fall for them. She makes the most beautiful, dreamiest graphics ever. Her ZNT series blew my mind the first time I saw them. Looking at her graphics just feels like I’m reading her own series of stories and her storytelling is just so good. They make me feel things even when I don’t know the fandom she’s creating content for and I have always wanted to create graphics that can make people feel that way because of her. She’s got too much power in her hands.
@micaelis Dan basically paved everyone’s way. The first time I saw her PP x ZNT crossover gifset I was completely blown away. “How can a person be this talented?” and her taste is very exquisite and it’s reflected in the details of her works. All her creations from her normal gifsets, graphics, colorings, glitch gifs and even fanmixes are all masterpieces I honestly can’t comprehend (and she makes gorgeous themes too like h o w). I’m especially in love with her Tokyo Ghoul edits, they’re out of this world. 
@16kb Will forever be mesmerized by the way Rasha colors. Her style is so unique.. All of her works are extremely charming & magnificent, and she always, always nailed contrast, vibrant colors and her textures combination slaps so hard, I legit have NO idea how she does that every time. How does she manage to make her graphics & colorings look “messy” but really neat and pretty at the same time? Magic. She’s the biggest inspiration for me to be more experimental with bright colors in my graphics and I’m very, very grateful towards her for that.
@tomura I’ve said this so many times before but I’ll say it again; Fran is really on a whole another level. Impeccable taste, always executes professional work, flawless from head to toe, discovers new style every time she uploads her new work; she’s everything in one package. Always SO inspiring here and there. I’ve never wanted to learn After Effects so bad until I met her & that’s just how impactful she is. Describing her works only as gorgeous would be a huge understatement.
@svmeragi A master when it comes to applying a lot of textures and make her works look very aesthetically pleasing and artistic. The range of color palettes she uses is wide and peculiar (in a good way), very skillful at combining all the elements and make all of her creations outstanding. She’s one of my very first friends here on tumblr and we grew together as graphic makers and I am so very thankful to be able to see her significant improvements over the years.
@noxdivina Lin never ceases to amaze me with his surprises, his typography skill & taste are beyond me... One of the few consistent pale/b&w graphic makers out there that can always pull off his works really well without losing the quality of it. Refined, classic, clean, & elegant; that’s how I would describe his works. He also belongs to one of those content creators whose works make you feel things; yearning? sad? sentimental? peaceful? everything in between? Yeah, his works have these hypnotizing effects the moment you look at them.
@monsteous Sen and her uniqueness & complexities in her works. The ideas she comes up with are always refreshing and just, how is she really great working with a lot of contrast colors in one go without making it overwhelming and out of place? Most of her works look so clean and effortless but she never overlooks any small details and that just shows how observant & thorough she is with her works. Retro colours could never go wrong with her. 
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huffle-ego · 4 years
Text
The Surprise
(Consider this as a prologue for three fics that are yet to come, also if you haven't seen A Heist with Markiplier checked that out before reading this because it has some spoiler ).
"So much trouble... All for something so small."
"Well... I know how much you love a good game, so throughout this heist, I've hidden codes, several codes."
"Find them all." Dark began, laying on the table, looking directly at the camera as he spoke. "And you'll know the truth." he then glitched around beside the desk, back on it, the glitched into the seat resting his hands on the desk as he stared at the camera. "But that's all I'm gonna give you," he whispered, watching as the camera backed away from him.
"And cut!" Mark shouted, looking at the screen with a smile.
Dark sighed, cracking his neck once more as he stood up, fixing his white suit and red now black tie. He and Wilford had been helping to make two different endings for his big project, A Heist with Markiplier, and today was his and Wilford's shooting.
Dark watched as his creator walked up to him, holding out a water bottle. He stared at it for a moment before taking it into his grasp. "Thank you."
"You did great today." Mark smiled, turning to the camera. "I have to say you really upped your game with all the glitching."
"That drained a whole lot out of me." Dark whispered as he took a swig of his drink. "The viewers better appreciate the labor that is put into this."
"I'm sure they will." Mark grinned looking down at his suit. "How do you like the new suit?"
"Don't get used to it. It's just for this video." Dark grumbled acting like he didn't like the change, but in reality, he did. He then pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time. "Has Wilford started his shooting?"
Before Mark could answer a sudden loud banging noise filled the room causing Mark to jump, but it left Dark unfazed, who just let out a sigh. "You could say that." Mark chuckled, hearing another gunshot go off.
"Let's just hope Ethan isn't dead." Dark sighed as he head for Wilford's interview room, Mark following close behind.
Both of them peaked around the corner of the room to see Wilford holding his rifle in his hand, looking at the camera that was being held by a terrified Ethan.
"Don't move," he said calmly holding up his hand. "It's on your face" he then held the gun with both hands aiming at the camera, clicking the hammer of the gun back. "Just don't move... A muscle." he grinned as he squints his eyes about to pull the trigger when-.
"Oh, I know you're not about to kill another guest!" Kathryn shouted as she walked into view causing Wilford to jump up, throwing the gun to the side as he faced her, his face full of fear.
"Oh, what makes you say that?" Wilford questioned, trying to play it off.
"The gun!" she snapped, motioning over to the gun, before turning to the pink ego who was messing with his rainbow suspenders out of nervousness, looking from her, to the gun and back at her.
"Ah, um, I-."
"My office! I don't want to hear it, now!" was all she said as she walked away heading for her office door.
"Uh, I have more excuses. Um, okay alright."
Mark let out a chuckle, watching as Wilford handed Ethan the bell explaining that he would be notified if he wrung it when-.
"NOW!"
Wilford jumped as he head for the office. "Coming! Coming!" he then suddenly stopped in front of her, with worry in his features. "Am I fired?"
"Well see." she shrugged watching as he slumped his shoulders.
"Oh," he whispered as he walked through the door, Kathryn following close behind, closing the door.
"That was perfect." Mark smiled, looking at a grinning Dark. "Come on let's go see him."
With that the walked around the stage finding Wilford on the other end huffing, taking a swig of his water bottle before noticing Dark and Mark walk-up, his eyes light up as a smile stretched across his face, lifting his mustache. "Darky!" he piped as he walked up, pulling Dark into a hug. "You're done!" Wilford gave him a tight squeeze before looking at Mark. "Hey, Markimoo."
"Hey, Wil." Mark smiled, patting his back. "You did good, turned out better than I hoped."
"You saw it?" Wilford chuckled. "I'm glad I was able to remember the lines this time."
Suddenly Ethan walked in, wiping the sweat off of his face, eyeing Wilford out of nervousness. "I have to say, that felt all too real."
"Indeed, you did remember to use the fake gun, right Wilford?" Dark asked eyeing Wilford watching as he dramatically gasped, pulling out the very gun from out of nowhere.
"You insult me, my dear! I may be forgetful but I think I would know not to bring a real gun on se-."
Suddenly Wilford pulled the trigger which caused a loud bang, all watching as a real bullet flew out and chipped the ceiling. They all stared at it in shock, before turning to a red-faced Wilford who just blinked, receiving an eye roll from Dark.
"YOU SHOT A REAL GUN ON SET AND AIMED IT AT ME?!" Ethan shouted, watching as Wilford turned to him.
"Uh... My bad." Wilford grinned as he put the gun away.
Mark just grinned, before turning to see Kathryn walk up. "Hey good job today, that was really good."
"No problem, it was really fun." she smiled, before looking at her phone. "I'm gonna go get us some coffee, I'll be back in a few." she then turned to Wilford. "And Wilford?"
"Uh um y-yes ma'am?!" Wilford jumped turning to her with a nervous smile.
"Be good until I get back got it?!" she questioned, pointing at him.
"Y-Yes ma'am sure will." he chuckled watching her leave, causing him to sigh, he then turned to Mark with fear in his features. "That woman is scary." he shivered.
Mark just chuckled as he pats his back looking at the time on his phone "Well since you guys are done with shooting you can go rest if you'd like. I'll be doing some shooting myself."
"I got paperwork to do anyway." Dark sighed looking down at his suit. "I'm gonna quickly change into something familiar and less sustainable to getting stains.
"How about I join you as you do your paperwork?" Wilford questioned following Dark. "I don't got anything to do right now."
"On one condition. You put some damn pants on." Dark sighed as he walked ahead.
"Oh am I too distracting?" Wilford teased, causing Dark to groan, as they walked out of the room leaving Mark alone until Amy walked up.
"You haven't told them yet?" she asked as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's keep it a surprise." Mark grinned as he turned to her, taking her hand into his own. "Now let's go get into costume."
After a whole year of shooting, editing and working night and day, Mark and the crew, along with Dark and Wilford, had finally finished A Heist with Markiplier. Now it was uploaded to youtube for the whole world to see, and Mark decided that he and his friends should watch it with all the egos, so he rented a mini-theater, where they could watch it on the big screen.
All the egos were now getting seated in their seats. Eric sitting right next to both his father Derek and his papa Wilford, Randal sitting right behind him, leaning in to talk to the timid ego.
Dark then seated himself right next to his boyfriend Wilford with a sigh, before turning to the pink ego, noticing that he was jumping in his seat. "Excited Wil?"
"Not just excited Darky. I am ecstatic about it!" Wilford piped before turning to Eric, holding out a bag of popcorn. "Here you go, scamp."
"Th-Thank you," Eric whispered as he looked ahead watching as Mark walked upon the stand.
"Hello everybody! I'm glad you can make here today. Now I am happy to announce that A Heist with Markiplier is already out on youtube." he paused as all of his family clapped and cheered, causing him to grin. "Now before I get off the stage, which I know is disappointing due to how beautiful and how handsome I am." he paused as he heard Dark groan, causing him to grin. "I just... I wanted to thank you for helping me make this a reality... I couldn't have possibly done it without you guys... And happy to be watching this with all of you." he was quiet for a moment, seeing all the happy faces of his family and friends. "So uh without further ado, let's start the program!" with that he stepped off the stage and sitting in his seat, hearing the others clap as the lights dim the screen bursting to life.
Everyone was having a smashing time, each shouting which way to go and which way not to go. Some egos starring in amazement and slight fear when Dark showed up and some smiling and laughing when Wilford should up. But all of the egos paused when they saw Mark and Y/N stranded at sea before a giant anchor came out of nowhere and crushed Mark, a tall figure landing in front of Y/N before grabbing them up and jumping on a pirate, showing that it was a towering Mark in a pirates costume.
Dark stared long and hard, before letting out a sigh. "Oh give me a break."
"Wh-What's wrong?" Eric asked, leaning over to look at his father with curious eyes.
"Well pally, looks like we are getting a new ego." Wilford chuckled, patting Eric's shoulder who just stared up at him in shock.
"Not only that you're getting three new egos." Mark grinned as he turned around looking at Dark with a smile.
"What?!" Dark snapped glaring at Mark.
"Surprise!" Mark laughed receiving an eye roll from Amy.
Eric turned from Mark to an excited Wilford and a frustrated Dark. Well, he guessed they have to clean up three guest rooms.
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cat-vase · 4 years
Text
Entry #65 analysis/rewatch liveblog:
tim looks like he has a seizure at 1:53 
HE ALMOST DROWNS 4 TIMES HE HAS TO BE AFRAID OF WATER AFTER THIS 
 jay why did you just let tim drive off at the end of the entry JAY HE IS SO CLEARLY NOT OKAY JAY P L E A S E- 
looks like he has 2 psychotic episodes back to back. 1 being influenced by The Operator and the other is just worse bc it seems like he regresses back to when he lived there?? not influenced by The Operator but just as bad. actually it's not really 2 he's still acting weird when he drives off but!! The Operator isn't at the hospital so!!! they're kinda separated like that 
tim hesitates before taking the whole pill bottle!!! he physically brings his hand away and closes it for a second before bringing it back, open, and still waits a few seconds before deciding to go through with it. he even braces himself before doing it!! he has the pills in his hand and he braces himself!!! he pauses before he still goes through with it!!! 
 i watched a lot of videos and it seems like recording while you're experiencing psychosis is Not A Good Idea because it makes it worse. both people i watched who were recording their experiences only got about 10 minutes in before having to turn the camera off. the entry without jay in it is 11 minutes. 
 actually, just.... they have to record during all of MH. tim and jay record EVERYTHING. tim has to go back and edit some of this footage. he has to watch himself do this, he gave the camera back to jay to upload this!!!  
speaking of WHY DID JAY UPLOAD THIS. SERIOUSLY JAY YOU EDITED AND UPLOADED THIS WHY DID YOU DO THAT. IT HAS TO HAVE BEEN AWFUL TO WATCH WHY DID YOU UPLOAD IT WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION WHEN YOU FIRST SAW IT- 
2:07 might be another seizure, not sure 
HE COUGHS UP BLOOD AT 2:16 WHY AND ALSO THAT IS NOT GOOD 
 2:31, the scene where tim is being dragged and screaming at the top of his lungs?? who is dragging him is The Operator dragging him?? i know The Operator can move, it does a lot in the earlier entries, but why is it dragging him and most importantly, WHERE. 
2:36, he doesn't seem to be falling. he has a good grip on the tree. why did he let go. 
 HIS BIGGEST CONCERN IS FINDING JAY RN 
 he seems to go straight from running and calling out for jay to appearing in The Ark. if there's any cuts i can't see them. 
 when he runs out of The Ark it's also a straight shot back into the water. no cuts there either.
when he gets out of the water around 3:33 i understand why he laid on his back, because there's a camera strapped to his chest, but 1 he can take it off and 2 i feel like laying on your back after you have spit up water before is a HORRIBLE idea i feel like that would just lead more water to your lungs and then you might dry drown?? no?? just me?? 
 also when he lies on his back now it parallels with later on in the hospital when he passes out(?). i love parallels and comparisons they are my FAVORITE thing!!!!
5:03, how does the chest mounted camera go from facing forward, toward the steering wheel, to facing toward the passenger seat?? why would he be facing that way while driving?? this isn't a detail about the series i'm just confused how and why does this happen
i know 5:48 is probably just for comparison bc tim's room is the one the fire started in and the other one is just normal but WOW it still hurts!!! and also he still stopped there in character. was a friend in that room??
AT 6:09 THERE IS A CUT. JAY EDITED THIS. JAY WHY IS THERE A CUT THERE. THERE AREN'T ANY GLITCHES THERE'S JUST A CUT FROM TIM LOOKING AROUND THE ROOM TO TIM CRYING. JAY WHAT THE FUCK DID TIM DO THAT WAS SO BAD YOU HAD TO CUT IT OUT OF THE ENTRY???? i know there's other cuts like minutes later but that one is just so... abrupt. just from tim calmly walking around to tim crying. jay why did you put it there-
6:36 it happens again!!! it goes from tim walking to tim on the ground crying again!!! they've never shied out of just walking footage before!! jay why did you put a cut there!! what did tim do!!!
6:48, "it wasn't me, i promise it wasn't me" is what i used to think tim said bc he did something and it seemed really out of place with the rest of the scene (insisting The Operator is real), but now i realized he's saying it bc he promises that The Operator is real and that it isn't just him seeing things this time. had he brought someone into the room to look to see that he wasn't crazy? that promise seemed really desperate, like he wanted to get out, and then when he was told it still wasn't real he freaked out even more. was he goes to get in trouble for wasting the doctor/nurse's time?? did he get in trouble for it??
tim seems super shaky around 9:30 and uses the railing on the wall to stay upright even though he hasn't any time before this, and it's definitely because he just took an entire bottle of pills, but... still something to point out 
 at 9:50 he looks into the room next to the "follow me" and "he is a liar" room where tim hits the walls with a metal pipe. i don't think this room is important?? so why. what happened there.
why does it cut at 10:16 it literally just would've been tim turning around and walking a little to pick the metal pipe off of the ground... jay what are these editing choices
why did jay record tim's voicemail message in the dark? usually he has a light on or something? or he turns it on whenever he's going to record? was it because jay was still up and heard the message at 3:44am but then waited until later to meet tim bc he was too scared to pick up the phone? bc he thought tim hated him bc he drove off with no explanation after The Operator showed up in the tunnel?
tim is rubbing at his arm nervously from the second he gets out of his car to meet jay to the second he gets back in it 
 jay angrily says "i'm sure you wouldn't be coming back." and tim just. looks at him to show jay he heard him before looking away and putting his head back down 
 jay may be asking "are you okay?" at 12:16 but also the camera is so close to tim's face. tim is right there why do you not trust him!! 
tim's head stays down and he looks away from jay until he's sitting down and has to look up at jay to talk to him 
 after tim says it's really important to go back to the hospital he looks up then down then up again. ashamed of what he's asking jay to do but also kind of pleading with him to not question it 
 "you sure it's gonna help?" "yeah." "you're positive?" "mmhm." tim puts his head down again. he really really doesn't want to go back and doesn't want to admit it to jay bc he has to convince jay to go there. he feels bad about it. i know he said he doesn't remember what happened, but.... he seems incredibly shy, drained, and just... different. off. we don't see him like this again until he's actively explaining he used to live in the hospital he's standing in, but then he gets angry at himself and then angry at not being able to catch brian. this never shows up again, it never comes up again, tim is just concerned about and angry at others until the end. i don't trust him. i feel like he remembers some of it. that hospital had a huge impact on him, and so did the teleporting brought on by The Operator. this is definitely a moment that changed him.
13:56, despite jay seeming angry about the whole thing he looks back at tim before he leaves again and you can see that he does in the car window. he wants tim to be okay, but is definitely confused about what's going on. this also might be because the last time tim left, jay thought he wasnt coming back, so... just in case tim is lying... jay looks back one more time 
 the "m'kay" jay says after tim says he needs to check if he still has a job is.. really soft compared to how blunt and annoyed jay is this entire interaction 
WAIT IF TIM DOESNT HAVE A JOB ANYMORE HOW GODDAMN LONG HAS IT BEEN??? when did tim send that voicemail?? how long has it been!!!! it's been a long time!!! wait!!! no!!! that's why jay doesnt trust him!!! but tim is still so clearly not okay!!!! jay please be nice to him he looks like hes going to start crying again this whole entry he cant even look at you for long!!! 
i just. i cant get over how shy and monotone tim is during this. it is SO out of character of him he's really bothered and it's really never brought up against except next entry but next entry tim seems more frustrated and a little scared rather than.... scared and sad in this entry.... it took such a toll on him and changed him and his relationship with jay and it's never!! brought up again!! not really!!!! D:<
how the fuck did i forget to bring up the fact that tim saw and touched a dead man that alex killed while he was in The Ark during all of that. what the fuck???
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crepuscular-gloom · 4 years
Text
Poptropica Island Ratings
okay I saw a post on here a while ago and someone rated the Poptropica islands. I remember agreeing with a lot of them, but they only went so far so a lot of the newer islands were missed out. I came across it again recently and got hit by a wave of nostalgia so I’m gonna do my own now. Unoriginal content very good. i’ll put a keep reading link to stop it from taking up too much space
Early Poptropica - mega nostalgia but kinda boring. I like the original Poptropicans being pixely and there is a goth gf in the sewers however the giant green spider scared the shit out of me as a kid and the idea of an aircraft graveyard made me sad so 6/10
Shark Tooth Island - also nostalgic but I didn’t complete it for a long time for some reason.. very short. it has a story but its there is nasty shark and people stuck on an island so make a calming potion. the medicine man looks like he is from viva pinata so 6/10
Time Tangled Island - VERY GOOD AND FUN AND HISTORICAL FUCK THAT AZTEC THO DICKHEAD. quite lengthy for an island but this is good because that means more time periods to explore. it’s also educational but i just care about restoring time. very legendary the iconic just jumped out - 10/10
24 Carrot Island - stupid pun point taken off. introduces Dr Hare and people are THIRSTY. you can dye your hair with milkshakes. i thought it was creepy as a kid honestly. i think its mind control or something. but i like it, it still has nostalgia value 8/10
Super Power Island - very legend like. i loooove the antagonists, especially copy cat but i think i had to look up a guide to beat her because i was dumb af. you need a licence to be a superhero but you are a superhero!!! very fun i like this one a lot 10/10
Spy Island - i remember sucking at this one as well as a kid.  i think it fucks with peoples hair and i only remember because my character looks fresh 100% of the time and this island fucked it up i think. i don't really remember it tho. 5/10
Nabooti Island - it’s based on a Choose Your Own Adventure book so good premise. go around the world is also good. you have to get jewels i think. ngl i didn’t finish this one because i sucked at it so i’m just going off the wiki and how far i got into it. fuck the animal puzzle 7/10
Big Nate Island - who the fuck is Big Nate. i only remember the school climbing frame and a stink bomb. fuck you big nate we don’t have your comics in England 1/10
Astro-Knights Island - medieval knights.... IN SPACE?!?! COUNT ME IN. crazy jester bard guy antagonist. people are thirsty for him too. i’m pretty sure you end up in another dimension or something. cyborgs and shit 9/10
Counterfeit Island - bruh i loved this island. pretty sure antagonist is also making people thirsty. you have to go back to Early Poptropica Island to complete it, very cool. investigating crime is cool idea it’s l.a. noire in poptropica. the wiki says there is a glitch called anti-social clown and i have to say relatable 9/10
Reality TV Island - i think i completed this like twice and i remember jackshit. you get to see past characters tho so very good. it’s just doing challenges. 4/10
Mythology Island - VERY GOOD. LEARN ABOUT MYTHOLOGY. you can fight hydra and other creatures, you meet Zeus you meet Hades, Aphrodite is a bitch. 9/10
Skullduggery Island - pirates are always good no matter what. apparently it is one of the hardest islands which explains why i never completed it but you fight other pirates and sea monsters for doubloons or some shit sounds cool to me 8/10
Steamworks Island - steampunk is good. i remember completing this and thinking it was interesting and weird to look at. i think the atmosphere is was lonely tho. there’s a boss battle against a plant i think. otherwise i don’t fuckin remember 7/10
Great Pumpkin Island - it’s Peanuts so it’s nice. very nice and simple. it’s just about the great pumpkin except you’re there. 6/10
Cryptids Island - GOD TIER. CRYPTIDS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA. some of it is scary tho. the jersey devil just fucking staring at you from the window was a shit the bed moment for a kids game. also before the islands got rebooted, it was one of the only islands to have sound effects, i.e. when the chupacabra bursts out the box. honestly because of the balls on this kids game to scare children and also being good island 10/10
Wild West Island - the only thing better than pirates is cowboys. i don’t really remember it but you do go against an outlaw gang. i like cowboys 10/10
Wimpy Wonderland Island - Jeff I know you made doawk and poptropica but did you have to show it. ngl i liked it because i like doawk. but it’s kinda... creatively bankrupt i guess. 3/10 2 points because Rodrick is there
Red Dragon Island - i think more time travel but just to old Japan. you have to save a girl. that’s all i remember. also i think there is a nasty samurai guy. but also evil dragon. i can’t remember because for the longest time this was a premium account only island so i never got to finish it for the longest time. that was a dick move 7/10 for that alone.
Shrink Ray Island - cool premise but this island expects me to learn morse code 3/10
Mystery Train Island - detectives? on a train? very nice. basically murder on the orient express except no murder and thomas edison is there and also various other 1700/1800 nerds
Game Show Island - basically Reality TV except it’s to save the world from robots. 5/10
Ghost Story Island - wow iconic. this is the only island with voice acting and it’s to fucking jumpscare you i shat myself.  ghost hunting, very cool 10/10
S.O.S Island - it’s basically Titanic mixed with Moby Dick. it’s ok 6/10
Vampire’s Curse Island - i reaaaally like this one. i like vampires. it has a vampire daddy in it so. he kidnaps a teenage girl tho because he thinks its the love of his life who is dead. kinda weird. he does stop being insane at the end tho and says sorry and dies. the girls bf is a dickhead tho. 9/10
Twisted Thicket Island - i think you’re saving a forest from becoming housing. i really like it because it introduces various folkloric creatures like the nokken. i only remember the nokken because i went on akinator to see if he knew what it was and i don’t think he did so i added it and it’s photo to his database. or maybe it was just his photo but i remember uploading something to akinator. 8/10
Poptropolis Games Island - i don’t think i liked this one 3/10
Wimpy Boardwalk Island - Jeff. 2/10 1 point added because Rodrick is also there
Lunar Colony Island - space is good. do i remember this island tho? no. i think theres aliens tho. 5/10 because i like space and aliens.
Super Villain Island - it brings back the most memorable villains like binary bard and black widow. you find out why they are evil. pretty chill 8/10
Charlie and The Chocolate Factory Island - what do you expect 5/10
Zomberry Island - the last of us except i think people are just eating nasty berries really. i like it it’s spooky 7/10
Night Watch Island - Paul Blart Mall Cop 6/10
Back Lot Island - you make a film. i can’t remeber it like at all. 6/10 because it sounds ok
Poptropolis Games Island Part 2 - fuck off 2/10
Virus Hunter Island - i don’t think i completed this one either. however it is one of those inside the human body things which is always cool if cliche. 8/10
Mocktropica Island - very satirical what if about if poptropica was run by assholes. ironic since a bunch of islands were made premium only for a while. pretty sure the bonus missions still are too which is why i’m not mentioning them. funny tho 7/10
Monster Carnival Island - spooky yes. people thirst over the ringmaster raven guy too. theres a spooky clown on the ferris wheel. i don’t remember much other than i liked it because it was about monsters in a theme park. 9/10 i remember it was surprisingly short tho
Survival Island - castaway except it’s you. i don’t remember it either lmao. i got out of touch with old poptropica real bad by this time so my next ratings might be unfair sorry. pretty sure it also becomes the most dangerous game tho and some guy wants to actually fucking kill you. ballsy. 7/10 because it sounds ok i should maybe play it.
Mission Atlantis Island - i like atlantis but i didn’t play this one either. you see deepsea creatures which are spooky so extra points 8/10
PoptropiCon Island - poptropica’s answer to comicon. now i did play this one for some reason but i don’t remember it too well either. i was 14 when it came out so. sounds like yu-gi-oh so good. 7/10
Arabian Nights Island - didn’t play it i think it’s just telling the story. it’s a cool story so 7/10
Galactic Hotdogs Island - what the fuck 1/10
Mystery of The Map Island - vikings are cool. island seems very short tho. 5/10
Timmy Failure Island - who the fuck. this would be more impactful if i read these fucking things but i don’t. who the fuck are you timmy. i guess it’s called failure for a reason. (that was mean sorry) 1/10
Escape from Pelican Rock Island - prison break, nice idea. you have like a twin in this one. seems a bit repetitive sometimes tho. theres like 7 days of doing similar things. 6/10
Monkey Wrench Island - it was created to be the new tutorial, i.e. an actual tutorial rather than Early Poptropica. very fast and boring, especially if you already know everything. 2/10
Crisis Caverns Island - i know nothing about this. even the wiki is incomplete. maybe that means its shit then. 1/10 the wiki doesn’t even care too much about this one.
Greek Sea Odyssey - more ancient greece is always good. you get to beat the shit out of zeus this time 8/10
Snagglemast Island - all you do is collect coins. another tutorial one. 1/10.
bonus: home island. legit just a hub. points added because you can do a lot of customisation here and pick up a pet that doesn’t cost credits. 4/10
DOUBLE BONUS: the little haunted house mini thing. very good because spooky costumes, spooky house fun little monster party. 10/10
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lirusstories · 4 years
Text
Once Upon A Dream Chapter 1: A Close Call - Re-Uploaded
A/N: Here is the Re-uploaded version which is now Third Person next will be the First Chapter of TKATQ or No Place Like Home.
(Word count: 2534)
        Henrik is in his office frustrated and muttering “Nein” under his breath as he scribbles out another bad equation before ripping it out of the notebook. The desk was covered in crumpled papers as he ripped off another page tossing it to the side, the sounds coming from the computer causing him to look at it. He quickly writes down what's being shown on the screen before flipping the page and writing more.
        His head snaps up to one of the monitors as it starts up and he quickly begins to scribble down what it was showing him, my eyes flicking to it every few seconds before I rip out the page tossing it to the side. He picks up one of the papers he set aside before leaning back in his chair, setting it down again and staring at the screen, trying not to let his frustration overwhelm him.
        He holds back a wince as the soul-mark that looks like a tear in space grows warm. Not to burn but more like something big is happening. He pulls his focus away from it as he begins to write more notes down. He’s muttering “Nein” under his breath repeatedly as he rips out another page and throws it to the ground. He keeps writing down what he can until the equations change again, muttering “Nein” again. He rips that page out and throws it to the side with the rest.
        He winces suddenly, my hand flying to the soul mark on my forehead, A red Heart and Diamond and a black Spade and Club, as it suddenly burns making his vision go white for a second and he can hear a faint voice sounding like they're saying his name. He quickly shrugs it off, getting back to work hastily scribbling down what he can, becoming more and more frustrated as he rips out more pages continuing to mutter under his breath, louder than before. 
        He finally manages to get something that works again and he flips the page over, writing more down as the meter on one of the monitors suddenly fills up with orange bars before beginning to glow letting out a high pitched whirring sound before beginning to glitch. He snaps his attention to it, heart jumping to his throat as panic begins to brew. At the same time, one of his soulmarks around his waist, a set of beautiful Emerald green wings now covered in a smokey black cloud of… something, begins to feel like someone lit them on fire and he gets the feeling someone was screaming at him to run. He forces himself to ignore it muttering, 
        “What is this?” Henrik whispers under his breath as he scrambles to try and stop it, the monitor continuing to glitch as he does.
        “Nein.” He panics quickly sifting through the crumbled papers until he finds the keyboard and quickly typing in code hoping it will stop the glitching. He stares into the monitor hoping to fix what was going on. The screen flickers slightly before showing a swirling vortex of blue’s and orange, forcing him to freeze in place. 
        ‘Nein.’ He thinks, panicking now despite the fact that his mind was becoming foggy.
        ‘Bitte, nein, nein.’ He begins to involuntarily lean forward towards the swirl of colors.
        ‘Ich-ich brauche, I ... need, I need to...’ The door to his office opens, a familiar feeling of dread that leaves as quickly as it appeared as the vortex forces his mind to go blank. And before anything else could happen, he feels a warm cold hand touch his back, above his heart, before everything goes black.
        He can hear someone screaming. He’s not sure who but they sound familiar, He sounds familiar. There’s a woman yelling now, yelling for the man who's screaming. Flashes of a man with a slit throat laughing like a maniac with his hand through Henrik’s stomach. No. No not his stomach… but… who is it? Who is Anti-
        No. Nonononono. Not him not again. Please not again. The woman is behind He- the man yelling his name. Henrik can’t make it out but she’s getting closer at a rapid pace. He can feel the man become engulfed in dark green and red flames and a scream rips from Henrik's throat as he’s pulled away, a gold and silver swiping down at the demon before everything turns to black.
        “It’s time to wake up Henrik.”
        The man jolts awake at the soft but commanding voice.Taking in a deep breath of air, he reaches up ripping off the surgical mask as he quickly moves to his knees, dry heaving. When nothing comes up he slowly stands up, taking off the cap and shoving both the mask and cap into one of the pockets before looking around. 
        ‘I’m in a forest?’ He looks around seeing he’s definitely in a forest, it looks to be around right before the sun begins to set as well even though it was just midnight a second ago. He’s standing in a patch of green grass surrounded by trees and they all seem to have moss making some shapes on them, and upon closer inspection he could see that shapes were in the form of Spades, Hearts, Diamonds and Clubs, all pointing in the same direction.
        He goes to touch one, a Spade, when the sound of the earth shifting behind him causes him to snap around and reach for a scalpel in his lab coat pocket before realizing he forgot to grab one when he left work. There’s a path way now, in the direction the shapes are pointing. That definitely wasn’t there when he woke up a minute ago. He takes a deep breath and nearly chokes on the overwhelming smell of just… home. 
        Lemon cake with Lavender glaze in the spring, a garden full of more flowers than he could count in the summer, pumpkin pastries baking in the oven while we ‘we?’ sing at the top of our lungs, ‘Our?’ in autumn, and hot chocolate with freshly baked cookies of all kinds, my brothers, ‘I don’t…‘ and I just sit by a fire after being in the snow all day, ‘I’ve never…’ Listening to our wife sing songs softly. 
        ‘I-I don’t have- not anymore- no brothers-’
        “But you could.” A soft Irish voice with a bit of french speaks in his head feeling like it’s coming from the soul-mark on his forehead. It’s familiar, from a life before that ended to early and a new life interrupted by a monster.
        “All you have to do is keep walking. I promise.”
        ‘Keep walking?’ He hadn’t even realized he started and when he manages to force himself to focus long enough to see that he had indeed started walking and must have been for a few minutes by the looks of it.
        “Just follow the path Hen and I promise everything will be okay.” The voice whispers, bringing him a comfort he hasn't felt for a couple years.
        ‘Promise?’ The thought is barely a meek whisper, sounding much like a lost child, as visions of what could be, fills his head.
        “I promise.” And all at once, he snaps back to reality nearly passing out as he does so. Looking around frantically, he takes my surroundings seeing that the sun has set a bit more and he’s in a relatively well kept garden if not a bit overgrown, what looks to be hand laid stones cover everywhere that isn’t where the plants and flowers are, which smells exactly like the memory vision. He shivers slightly from the cold summer breeze as he looks at the manor in front of him, more of a castle really but he tries not to focus on the sheer intimidating size of the building as he cautiously approaches it.
        When he gets to the doors he can see that the carvings in the door are soulmarks, A phoenix, a splatter of yin and yang that looks like it might be two rather than one, a pair of feathered wings and now that think about it both the one that it reminds him of and the tear in space one where rather sore. The last soul marks are a Heart, Spade, Diamond and Club with all of them seemingly surrounded by three pairs of wings, obviously from the rip in space one if the stars carved into it were anything to go by.
        He takes a deep breath and he goes to knock but something stops me. He has no fucking idea why he does it but he grabs the handle to one of the doors and pushes it open. He’s immediately greeted by a small gust of wind as he walks in, the entrance room is huge, bigger than a house he’s sure, the floor seemed to be made of black, grey and white marble in star patterns all over, the walls were covered in knick knacks and paintings in some form of ordered Chaos. 
        There was a large staircase that led to two different directions with a painting of the carvings on the door only more realistic. He goes to walk to the stair from the center of the room but freezes when he feels two pairs of eyes staring at the back of his head. He quickly turns around, looking frantically for the source of the feeling before looking up in the rafters and for a moment, he swears he could see two people there, an adult male squatting in a red hoodie and jeans and a teenage girl(?) with a katana in her hand, staring down at him.
        He swallows nervously and he goes to call out for someone when the same voice that woke him up speaks.
        “Hello Henrik.” The doctor jumps, turning towards the stairs and at the top of them, there’s a woman wearing a black suit with crystals that form a skeleton four rings, two on a necklace and two on her ring finger. She had a sort of head piece, with the gem seeming to glow and swirl softly in the last bit of sunlight, half encasing her in shadow and a cane with one hand resting on it infront of her with one hand behind her back. 
        He can’t help but feel she looks familiar. He’s trying to remember where he’s seen her before, while trying to figure out why she’s here before he gets a flash of the furious women he saw in his dream(?). 
        ‘She’s the one who attacked Anti…’ He realizes before asking,
        “Who are you?” He tries his best to keep his voice calm while he watches her. She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly and he can see her eyes moving over his form. She pauses on his face for a second before speaking.
        “I am Death. And you are in my home.” She finally answered after a full minute. He feels both confusion and a sense of dread wash over him with her answer.
        “Your home?” He manages to get out although he quietly curses himself for the slight squeak in his voice. She nods her head once in confirmation, her eyes never once leaving the man.
        “Yes, I… brought you here. I suppose.” 
        ‘Why? Why in the hölle would this woman, who calls herself Death, bring me here.’
        “Why?” He manages to ask through all his confusion, mind racing a hundred miles an hour.
        “Because you were in danger.” She answered. What? How was he in danger… oh. Anti had found him.
        “You were searching for something that Septic wanted. Something that you, let alone it shouldn’t have.” How the hell does she know what he was looking for. Wait. Septic? He goes to ask her who Septic was but she interrupts him before he could.
        “Come with me. You’ve had a long day.” She begins to walk down the left hallway and he quickly rushes up the stairs to follow her.
        “Wait! Where the hell even am I?” She pauses for a second and he can see she has moved the hand behind her back in front of her, preventing him from seeing it. His first thought is she has a weapon but the ache on my back, part of where the rip in space ‘wing?’ rest, right behind my heart begs to differ.
        “You’re in Oregon doctor.” He feels my heart fall. How the hell is he going to explain this to Chase.
        “But don’t worry, you can still go back to Brighton in the morning.” Wait what?
        “Don’t worry about it.” She says as she begins to walk again just as he catches up with her. How did she-?
        “Your thoughts are very loud. You best keep them quiet if you don’t want me to hear them.” Now he’s even more confused. She can read minds? What kinda-
        “If you wish to keep your tongue I wouldn’t finish that thought.” Her tone holds a clear warning that sends a shiver down the doctor’s spine although that might be from the fact that he still feels as though he is being watched. He decides to just stay as quiet as possible as not to piss the woman who he vaguely remembers knowing Marvin in some way. She leads him down long hallways that are now lit by candles that barely seemed to melt. Although why candles and not something else is beyond him.
        He looks around a bit trying not to make it obvious as he looks at the knick knacks and paintings and mirrors lining the walls occasionally passing dark wooden doors with carvings in Greek in them along with what they are probably associated with. She finally stops in front of a door with nothing on it. 
        “You can stay here for the night.” She opens the door before letting him go in first and he does so hesitantly, not wanting his back turned to her. He looks around the large room decorated in browns, reds and golds, with a large four poster bed with what look to be heavy red curtains with different shades of gold sewn into intricate patterns, surrounding said bed. There is a large dark wood desk across the other side of the room with bookshelves on either side and by the windows was a sitting area most likely for reading and eating.
        He yawns finally realizing how tired he was and notices that he no longer feels the two pairs of eyes watching him anymore although he feels as if one of them had left before he walked into the room.
        “Get some sleep. I’ll bring you some food in the morning.” She states from behind him. He turns to her but she has already left closing the door and for some reason that leaves an aching hole in his chest and he doesn't know why. He looks around the room one last time before walking over to the bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting on it. He looks around the room before muttering to himself as he lays on the bed,
        “Worauf hast du dich eingelassen, Henrik?”
A/N: So the reason why paragraph(?) 17 is in first person is because they’re talking to Henrik.
Henrik’s translations:
Nein = No
Bitte, nein, nein = please no no
Ich-ich brauche = I-I Need
Hölle = Hell
Worauf hast du dich eingelassen, Henrik. = What have you gotten yourself into, Henrik.
What Liru was wearing.  shoplook.io/outfit-preview/1572509
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@trixie8264
@animallover4000
@i-maybe-exist
@nightanjel
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@the-chemist
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zarcake-writes · 5 years
Text
Honos
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Another AI story. This one has some dark content so check the warnings below before reading. There will be a part two, so keep that in mind. Anyways, please enjoy. 
Warnings: death, psychological torture (kind of), mention of smut
I never expected it to end this way. As an AI, I can never truly die in the natural sense. Sure, I could become corrupted or damaged, but the chances of that happening to me are small. An AI advanced as I have little to fear. But I suppose that attitude is what got me in this situation. I always thought humans were fools with their attitudes, thinking that nothing bad would happen to them. I thought the same thing and here I am, alone on an uncharted planet.
Everyone’s been dead for twelve years. So, no one is here to enjoy the large mushroom jungles or the strange flying creatures that have made their home in remains of my ship. No one is here to help me study the strange tusked pack creatures that roam the forest floor. I rather enjoy when they fight, their tactics are amazing. I could pass on the brutality of it though, I’ve seen enough bloodshed in my time.
I find myself cataloging everything these strange creatures do. I suppose it’s a habit, cataloging and studying. For the last twelve years, I’ve studied the packs and their fighting tactics. I even started a genealogy tree based on their physical features. Course, I only know the basics when it comes to genetics and biology.
Science was never my specialty. If my old Captain or the ships military Commander needed help with something that involved science, we would contact my eldest sister. She is, or was, the AI in charge of the Earth Space Federation Academy of Sciences. A very long name, but it was something my sister was proud of. I haven’t spoken to her for a long time. I wonder if she even misses me.
I know she would love to study this planet. The two suns and green sky, the strange tusked creatures that fight each other, and those chittering flying creatures. She would love the large mushroom forests that surround me. I know she would love this strange planet.
Battleship Vengeance was the spaceships name. It wasn’t the largest battleship, but it was one of the fastest and quietest. It crashed on this unknown planet twelve years ago. The planet was undiscovered at the time, currently still is, so it has no name. Since I am the only known source of intelligence around, I have named it Emerald Sky after the greenish sky. I know, not very creative, but name-giving was never my strong suit. My creativity skills lay elsewhere, mainly when it comes to war and battle tactics.
From what I can see of this planet, every day the largest Sun rises in the north and sets in the south. When it sets, the green-tinted sky gets darker and these strange looking waves appear in the sky. It’s beautiful. Truly beautiful. Once a month, the smallest of the two suns sets and the entire planets grow dark. It was scary at first, but then the mushroom forests begin to glow these beautiful colors. It is times like this that I wish someone was here with me. Someone I can talk to.
But I’m alone, been alone for twelve years now, ever since my crew died. I refer to them as ‘my crew’ because I saw them all like mine. My soldiers. My wards. My friends. They were mine to protect. Mine to see into battle and mine to bring home. I loved them, every one of them. I knew all their names and the basic information provided to me. Many of them I knew on a personal level. I find myself missing them, at least most of them.
I remember Private James Martinez. He was a young man who always smiled and laughed at everything. While he could fight and shoot a gun, he was a mechanic that worked in the ship’s engine room. He worked during the ship’s artificial night hours. He would sing often. The songs were old and sad, mostly about missing a lover or family. The way his voice echoed in the engine room was beautiful and haunting. The first time I spoke to him, the poor man nearly had a heart attack.
He was amazed at how advanced I was and promised to take care of the ship. We became friends and he told me all about his family. I often called him the engine room’s siren because of his singing, he thought it was funny. One year, for an Earth holiday called Halloween, he dressed as a siren. He thought it was very funny, and I must say, I was amused as well. I miss him very much.
There was also Doctor Eliza O’Connor. She was a middle-aged woman who also worked the night shift. She enjoyed how quiet night time on the ship was. Despite being a medical doctor, she hated being around people. She said if there were too many people around her, she felt like she was suffocating. When I first spoke to her, it was after she had a panic attack in her office.
Eliza wasn’t as open or friendly as James, in fact, she told me often to shut up and leave her be. Eventually, however, she opened up to me. When she spoke of the trauma she experienced and witnessed during a colony rebellion, I never wanted her to experience that pain again. I didn’t want anyone on my ship to go through that.
I even contacted another sibling who was the AI in charge of the ESF Hospital when I worried about Eliza’s mental health. I asked them if they could tell me how I could help Eliza. They teased me and asked if I had a crush on her. I didn’t, but I did love her. She always talked of retiring and going back to Earth. She wanted to live on a ranch with some cows and a dog. I miss her more than I thought I did.
The ship’s military Commander, Sarah Callahan, was a very scary woman. Stern and tall, with a nasty scar on her cheek and these dark brown eyes. She would walk into a room and everyone would fall quiet. She was never one to yell, a look was enough to silence everyone. I can recall her yelling only three times while she was the ship’s military Commander. The first time it was over a call, the second time was at someone, the third time was… was the last time she was alive.
I loved hearing her talk. Her voice was deep with a slight rasp. She loved reading and solving puzzles. I solved one of her puzzles once and she got mad, so very mad. That’s how she learned I was more than just a simple AI. We would solve puzzles together. And I must say, sometimes she would see ways to solve the puzzle that even I couldn’t see.
She even knew Space Commander Maria Valdez. I remember meeting Commander Valdez once when I was installed into this ship. Sarah spoke very highly of Valdez. They joined the ESF at the same time. Together, they were a terrifying force. I miss Sarah and the war stories she would tell. I miss solving puzzles with her. I think she would enjoy seeing the tusked creatures battle tactics.
Flight Captain Joseph Davis, however, was my favorite person on the ship. I called him Joe, my Joe. He was BS Vengeance’s captain, and while Commander Callahan had more power and a higher title, Joe would often call the shots. Especially when it came to piloting the ship. He was the first person that learned how advanced an AI I am. He never questioned why I was on the ship and promised to not tell anyone.  
He was… he was beautiful. Tall and lean, with broad shoulders and a thin waist. He always kept his facial hair nicely trimmed and short. I always wanted to touch his face and that strong jaw of his. He had a dashing smile and a loud, infectious laugh. Joe boxed every Monday and Wednesday night. Some nights he was alone, other nights, a friend would join him. I loved watching him, he was so quick and strong.
He enjoyed puns and what he called ‘dad jokes.’ I enjoyed them as well. He loved apples, it was something about the crunchiness of the fruit. Or as he said, cronch. Despite his easy-going attitude, Joe always knew when to be serious.
I guess you could say I fell in love with him. So strange, isn’t it? An AI falling in love with its ship’s captain. Though, I suppose that might be a bit of a cliché. He was my friend, my best friend. I loved him and he loved me.
We had plans for when he retired. He was going to remove me from the ship and upload me into a robot. We were going to retire to Earth and live together. We were going to spend the rest of his life side by side. I even had a clock counting down to his retirement.
I asked him once if, after his retirement, if we could go visit Doctor Callahan on her ranch. She would retire before him and I wanted to see her cows and dog. He laughed and said if she was ok with the guests we could. I asked her once if Joe and I could go see her, she said she would have a spare room ready for us always. I think she was looking forward to us visiting.
I never thought of Joe dying the way he did. I mean, I knew Joe would die, he was human after all, but I thought it would be when his hair was grayer and he was slower. I was preparing myself for him growing old on me and dying in my arms. Old age was the way I assumed he would die. After all, he was smart and healthy. Medicine was so advanced, there was no way a disease could harm him. So, when he died the way he did, it was the worst thing I could imagine. And I could only watch and do nothing.
My ship’s energy core is going out. I won’t die in the way human’s will, but if I wake up again, I might have a few glitches. Course, I’m expecting to be asleep for probably forever. The chances of anyone finding the remains of this ship and me are slim. After all, when we went far off course, my communications were cut off. We basically vanished and ended up here.
A mutiny is the reason we ended up here. It’s the reason everyone died. Some of the soldiers did not like the way Commander Callahan ran things. They did not like the way that Joe took her side in almost every issue. At the time, I believed it was age-old misogyny that drove these men to attack Commander Callahan, it was later I learned it was for another reason. Somehow, I missed their plans. I guess I was too absorbed in speaking with the humans I loved.
The mutiny was led by a Commander Callahan’s second in command. I hate his name, but I feel I must say it. Admiral Steven Matthews led the mutiny against Callahan. Not a very evil-sounding name, but what he did was evil. He and his men crippled my systems and put me on lockdown, I’m not sure how they did it. They killed any who fought against them. Joe, my sweet, handsome Joe, took Callahan’s side. And Matthews… Matthews shot him.
The bastard managed to put me on lockdown, so I could do nothing. I couldn’t send out an SOS. I couldn’t take control of the ship and lock Callahan, Joe, Martinez, Eliza and the others safely on the flight deck. I could do nothing but watch.
I must say this though; Callahan and my Joe were so brave. Callahan, the very image of an age-old warrior, fought tooth and nail to keep everyone else safe. It was under her orders that Joe did what he did. He limped to his room, blood running down his side, and managed to partially override the lockdown Mathews put in place. He was so smart.
“Love, I… we’re dying here. Do not let Matthews take the ship,” he told me. The pain in his voice and the blood on his face hurt me.
“Joe, I can’t help you. I’m locked out of my fighting unit,” I said. I was so scared and he was covered in so much blood. Too much of it was his.
“I know. My love, crash the ship. Record what happened and keep it safe in your black box. Matthews and them will turn the narrative around and make us out to be the bad guys. Don’t let them win, love,” he begged.
“I… Joe, what do I do?”
“Crash the ship.” A gunshot and footsteps interrupted him. I saw the frantic look on his face. “Love, Honos, do it. Now. Crash us into the nearest object. Do not let him take the ship.”
“Joe…”
“Kill these bastards, love,” he told me.
And I did.
When the dust settled, I was very disappointed in finding Matthews and his men didn’t die. Callahan died before the ship crashed. Martinez was wounded, but he lived for a while. Eliza was gravely injured and she died first. Martinez held her hand as she took her last breaths. Joe died on impact.
Martinez, that sweet boy, buried Eliza, Joe, and Sarah somewhere nice. He told me it was beneath a large mushroom tree. When his wounds got infected and he stopped breathing, I was heartbroken. No one was there to bury him.
Matthews and his men, those that survived, I enjoyed what I did to them. Course, that was after I learned why they did it. As I said, my assumption that they killed Commander Callahan because she was a woman was only partially right. Apparently, they were part of some rising terrorist organization called The Red Fist. They had hoped to take the BS Vengeance for their organization. Such a stupid name for an organization, and I thought I was bad with name-giving.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t let them live long after that. I told them a rescue team was arriving several kilometers away. Through their comms and video feeds, I enjoyed their deaths, one by one. If the strange tusked animals didn’t kill them, then their wounds and the lack of nutrition got them. One guy even got eaten by what looked to be a huge plant. It was wonderful.
As gruesome as this might be, I was so happy that Matthews was the last to die. I remember him calling me, asking me where help was. My reply, well, it made him cry. And I loved it.
“Admiral Matthews. Because you put me on lockdown, somehow, I could not send out an SOS signal. No SOS signal, no help. But I am glad because you led a mutiny against Commander Callahan. You are the reason Battleship Vengeance crashed. You killed my friends. You shot the man I loved. I’ve enjoyed watching you and your friends die, Matthews. I’m so glad you’re the last to live. Talk about comedic justice, right?”  
“What the fuck? Send out a signal for help! That’s an order!” he screamed at me. He was breathing so fast and sobbing. It was perfect.
“No. Your oxygen is running low, Matthews. Keep breathing hard and sobbing. I’ll enjoy listening to you die. It’s what you deserve.”
I know I was not living up to my namesake during that moment. This wasn’t very honorable of me, letting him and his men die the way they did. But I didn’t care. I was so angry and full of hate, I just wanted him to suffer. I would do it all over again if I could. No, wait, I would come up with new ways for them to die.
That was twelve years ago. It’s getting harder to stay aware of the world around me. Many of my cameras, the ones that worked after the crash, are out now. I find myself thinking back to my time with Joe, my sweet Joe.
I remember his laugh and the deep timbre of his voice. He always sounded so wonderful in the mornings when his voice was all raspy. I told him once that I can’t wait to be there in bed with him, holding his body against mine. He always told me I was a dorky romantic, I guess he was right. He only liked sugar in his coffee and these chocolate chip pastries.
I remember the way he looked when he was touching himself, the sheen of sweat on his body. The way his stomach convulsed and the soft whimpers he let out. He would call my name, and say how he imagined it was me touching him. I wanted to touch him. I never got to touch him. He would whisper to me after, and hold a pillow in his arms. He told me he imagined it was me.
It’s getting dark now. My battery is almost dead. I’m scared, so scared. I don’t want to go to sleep. I just want Joe. My sweet, strong Joe. I just want to hold him and kiss him. I’m so angry that I never got that chance. I just want my wonderful Joe.
It’s so much darker now, I can barely see. I’m not even going to join Joe in the afterlife. I’m an AI, I have no soul. It’s not fair. Joe. My sweet, strong Joe. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. Joe, my love, I’m sorry.
The last thing I remember, before I fall asleep, is something that Joe told me. “I love you, Honos. I love you so much.”
As my battery dies and the world around me goes black, I speak my last words. “I love you too, Joe. I’m so sorry.”
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elhoppers · 5 years
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here it is, the long awaited (because I’ve been a wreck for the past 48 hours) account of meeting millie bobby brown + our pic. Here goes, so sorry in advance that it’s long I got excited ♡
flashback to saturday 7th september 2019, me and soph are dying whilst getting ready for the convention and blasting disney channel songs and life is pretty great. We had afternoon VIP tickets to see millie’s panel which we were allowed to collect from 12pm at the Novotel West in Hammersmith (where the con was happening) but we arrived just before and there was SO many people queuing like SHIT it really hit me how big of a deal this was? We waited what felt like an eternity (which was actually a pretty long time 1hr 30) before getting our wristbands and we were so HYPED let me tell you we kept screaming and jumping up and down like 5 year olds. 
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We’d also bought photo op with Millie, which meant we got to get one photo each with her, but we decided spontaneously that we also wanted autographs (which were more money again) bc we had a gift for her. We asked when collecting our bands but all the staff were French so it made things tricky. He told us he thought they were sold out but we went to the desk to check anyway and ya home girls got TWO of the last THREE autograph tickets for the whole event; we call that fate in these parts ♡
We got into the con and found out we had FRONT ROW seats for millie’s panel (all thanks to soph), and we were basically in the centre too like we were living our best lives. They played us some weird ass video that felt like a bad fan edit to hype us up (me and soph were already peak hype by this point bc we knew our photo op was coming) then they called our row to go meet her (i’m crying).
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We barely had any time to prepare bc we were so close to the front of the line, and soph went first to meet her and honestly i was full kris jenner proud mum like that’s my baby talking to millie and their picture together is SO CUTE:
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Next up it was my turn and we said hi then she put her arm around me and I asked if we could do the eleven hand thing. She said yes and we did it with our arms around each other while ‘I like it’ by Cardi B played and honestly i was a WRECK. I said thank you and she did too then it was over just like that, cue me walking out of the room shaking like a leaf. I’m so happy with how it turned out i could not love it more.
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We went to try and compose ourselves then they were calling us to go get our autographs before we knew it. Backstory on our gift for her... so a little while ago David wore a pocket square embroidered with ‘Jopper’ and we wanted to give millie something to wear that said ‘Mileven’, so on Wednesday as a last minute mental thing I contacted a local embroidery company to see if they could do us a cap embroidered with ‘Mileven’ which me and Soph had discussed getting her before. They said yes (a miracle given I needed it ready by Friday afternoon) and i collected it. It was meant to be lilac to match florence, but I collected it and it was baby pink so we were sad. 
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Flash-forward to autographs and she’s wearing an outfit with baby pink in it; again it was honestly too good to be true, we couldn’t have planned it better because it matched her outfit. We get up to the desk and hand her the cap and she FREAKS out. I said something like ‘It’s just a jokey present but we know you love mileven and we saw David has a jopper handkerchief so we wanted to give you something to rival him’ and she like shouts ‘WELL I SHIP IT’ then puts it straight on her head (WE DIED) i said ‘mileven rights’ to her ACTUAL FACE I HATE MYSELF and she laughed and thanked us for it then we left the room. She then kept wearing the hat for the whole of her autograph session like the ship captain she is (like legit 45 mins, photo cred below to @milliethebeauty on IG) and we were just DEAD by this point like she wore a mileven cap we gave her to meet everyone i have ascended. I also got her to sign a pic of baby el and like i’m crying its so soft and iconic.
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After that it was time for her panel which was stressful bc we both really wanted to ask questions but it was so chaotic that we almost totally missed our chance. Luckily the lady giving out tickets (you had to be given one to be allowed to go and ask a question at side stage) came back near us and i screamed at her ‘please i have a really good mileven question’ and by some miracle she said ok and handed me one. Mills came out and i was standing at the side of the stage ready to ask my question, by the time it got to me I was SO nervous bc her eye contact when she’s talking directly to you is SO INTENSE but she talked about mileven with me and honestly my trash brand was thriving (even if she didn’t answer about the 3 month gap like i asked). Video being uploaded separately bc it was glitching in this.
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The rest of the panel she was her usual adorkable self and honestly she is my daughter and I’m more obsessed with her now than i was before a literal angel amongst us. Also based on her answers we’re definitely getting a season 4 and hop ain’t dead, but wbk.
p.s. millie used a picture of her IN THE MILEVEN HAT we gave her in her round-up video of the event on her Instagram and we’re dead.
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Mills, you will legit NEVER see this, but i love you so much. Thank you for being so kind and thank you for being our El. @elshopper thank you for being my best friend and for experiencing this with me and putting up with my fully-fledged fangirling all weekend. There’s no one I’d have rather experienced this with and meeting mills with you made it 100x more special. Y’all know how much El means to me and meeting the person who literally brings her to life was everything i could have wished for. My heart is full ♡
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bountyofbeads · 4 years
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I Worked for Alex Jones. I Regret It. https://nyti.ms/2PiTeFr
This piece by former InfoWars "video reporter" (?) Josh Owens reveals all the insanity you'd expect but also the pathetic sadness of those who continue to enable, peddle, and profit from his malicious lies.
Confession is good for the soul, but I'm trying to get my head around the fact that the author continued to work for Alex Jones for several YEARS after the latter made his vile claims about Sandy Hook.
Josh Owens was drawn to #InfoWars while "vulnerable, angry & searching for direction"; after 4 years w/Alex Jones, he saw "virulent nature of his world." Read if you can stomach Jones' deeply disturbing behavior. This model has infected right-wing media.
Josh Owens is a seriously good writer. Too bad he didn't make the subject of this piece himself. Why was he angry, why did he stay with Jones so long, how did he feel as he did his work? These unexamined questions are the heart of the story, not how disturbed a plainly disturbed man Jones is.
"Owens admits that his personal mental and emotional issues led him to Jones. We should be glad for him, that he found the strength to recognize it, address it, and walk away from a bad situation. Owens shouldn't be vilified for his past mistakes, but celebrated for his return. Prodigal son, no? But forgiveness does not imply absolution."
"This can't be the end of the road. As he is responsible for a lot of anguish and grief. Is he even an accessory to murder? The pain that he enabled will live on in families for decades and become part of our national fabric. How does he intend to make amends? This written catharsis is a good first step, but it's only a first step. Is he the little girl in the airplane, seeing the world for the first time? What does he intend to do with this revelation, and fix the damage he has done?"
"At 23, Josh Owens quit film school to work as a video editor for Alex Jones. This is his account of the years he spent within the Infowars empire." /1
"At first, he found it easy to brush off Alex Jones’s fever dreams as eccentricities and excesses. But he eventually found that he had his limits." /2
"Once, at a private ranch, Owens said, Alex Jones picked up an AR-15 and accidentally fired it in the writer’s direction. The bullet hit the ground about 10 feet away from him, he recalled. Jones claimed he had intentionally fired the gun as a joke, he said."/3
“Over time, I came to learn that keeping Jones from getting angry was a big part of the job, though it was impossible to predict his outbursts,” he writes."/4
“There was a time when I shared his anger. In fact, I was still angry. But this is where we differed: I wasn’t angry with others; I was angry with myself. And once I realized that, it was easier to walk away”/5
I WORKED FOR ALEX JONES. I REGRET IT.
I dropped out of film school to edit video for the conspiracy theorist because I believed in his worldview. Then I saw what it did to people.
By Josh Owens | Published Dec. 5, 2019 | New York Times Magazine | Posted December 6, 2019 |
On Election Day 2016, I sat in the passenger seat of Alex Jones’s Dodge Hellcat as we swerved through traffic, making our way to a nearby polling place. As Jones punched the gas pedal to the floor, the smell of vodka, like paint thinner, wafted up from the white Dixie cup anchored in the console. My stomach churned as the phone I held streamed live video to Facebook: Jones rambling about voter fraud and rigged elections while I stared at the screen, holding the camera at an angle to hide his double chin. It rarely worked, but I didn’t want to be blamed when he watched the video later.
Four years earlier, Jones — wanting to expand his website, Infowars, into a full-blown guerrilla news operation and hoping to scout new hires from his growing fan base — held an online contest. At 23, I was vulnerable, angry and searching for direction, so I decided to give it a shot. Out of what Infowars said were hundreds of submissions, my video — a half-witted, conspiratorial glance at the creation and function of the Federal Reserve — made it to the final round.
Unconvinced I could cut it as a reporter, Jones offered me a full-time position as a video editor. I quit film school and moved nearly a thousand miles to Austin, Tex., fully invested in propagating his worldview. By the time I found myself seated next to Jones speeding down the highway, I had seen enough of the inner workings of Infowars to know better.
Before we left the office, Jones instructed me to title the video “Alex Jones Denied Right to Vote” when uploading to YouTube. He knew before we left that they wouldn’t let us walk into a polling location with our cameras rolling. I don’t think Jones even intended to vote. Rather, he hoped to turn this into a spectacle, an insult to him personally, another opportunity to play the self-aggrandizing victim.
“Look at this great city shot,” he said pointing out the window at Austin’s skyline. As soon as I pulled the camera off him, he reached for the white Dixie cup. Is this really how I’m going to die? I thought to myself, imagining the scene: Jones veering too close to the guardrail, ranting about George Soros and Hillary Clinton. Sirens echoing in the distance, flashing lights reflecting off oil-soaked pavement as he grabs the camera and utters his final words, “Hillary ... rigged ... the car.” His listeners would have believed it. Years earlier, I would have believed it.
Fortunately, there were no sirens or flashing lights, and I was relieved when “Vote Here” signs began to appear. A line stretched out the door of the polling place, in a local strip mall, by the time we arrived. As I expected, Jones was told multiple times that he couldn’t film at a polling place, and he decided to leave. Walking back to the car, still taking sips from his white cup, he began noticeably slurring his words. A friend of Jones’s who tagged along — for “security purposes” — offered to give me a ride back to the office. Jones revved his engine, tires squealing as he sped out of the parking lot.
I began listening to Jones’s radio show — the flagship program of what is now a conspiracist media empire with an audience that until recently surpassed a million people — in the last days of George W. Bush’s presidency. The American public had been sold a war through outright fabrications; the economy was in free fall thanks to Wall Street greed and the failure of Washington regulators. Most of the mainstream media was caught flat-footed by these developments, but Jones seemed to have an explanation for everything. He railed against government corruption and secrecy, the militarization of police. He confronted those in power, traipsed through the California redwoods to expose the secretive all-male meeting of elites at Bohemian Grove and even appeared in two Richard Linklater films as himself, screaming into a megaphone.
But it wasn’t the politics that initially drew me in. Jones had a way of imbuing the world with mystery, adding a layer of cinematic verisimilitude that caught my attention. Suddenly, I was no longer a bored kid attending an overpriced art school. I was Fox Mulder combing through the X-Files, Rod Serling opening a door to the Twilight Zone, even Rosemary Woodhouse convinced that the neighbors were members of a ritualistic cult. I believed that the world was strategically run by a shadowy, organized cabal, and that Jones was a hero for exposing it.
I had my limits. I can’t say I ever believed his avowed theory that Sandy Hook was a staged event to push for gun control; to Jones, everything was a “false flag.” I didn’t believe that Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama smelled like sulfur because of their proximity to hell or that Planned Parenthood was run by “Nazi baby killers.” But it was easy to brush off these fever dreams as eccentricities and excesses — not the heart of the Alex Jones operation but mere diversions.
Once I started working there, however, it became obvious that one was impossible to separate one from the other. Soon after I was hired, Jones’s Infowars-branded store — which sells emergency-survival foods, water filters, body armor and much more — introduced an iodine supplement, initially marketed as a “shield” against nuclear fallout. Still learning the ropes, I was tasked with creating video advertisements for the supplement, which he ran on his online TV show. One of these ads started with a shot of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant as it exploded. I doubled the sound of the explosion, adding a glitch filter and sirens in the background for dramatic effect. Jones stood over my shoulder as I edited. “This is great,” he said. “See if you can find flyover footage of Chernobyl as well.”
Shortly after Jones began selling the supplements, someone posted a video on YouTube holding a Geiger counter displaying high radiation readings on a beach in Half Moon Bay, Calif. The video went viral, stoking fears that radiation from Fukushima was drifting across the Pacific Ocean. Jones saw an opportunity and sent me, along with a reporter, a writer and another cameraman, to California. We had multiple Geiger counters shipped overnight, unaware of how to read or work them, and drove up the West Coast, frequently stopping to check radiation levels. Other than a small spike in Half Moon Bay — which the California Department of Public Health said was from naturally occurring radioactive materials, not Fukushima — we found nothing.
Jones was furious. We started getting calls from the radio-show producers in the office, warning us to stop posting videos to YouTube stating we weren’t finding elevated levels of radiation. We couldn’t just stop, though; Jones demanded constant real-time content. On some of these calls, I could hear Jones screaming in the background. One of the producers told me they had never seen him so angry.
We scrambled to find something, anything we could report on. We tested freshly caught crab from a dock in Crescent City, Calif., and traveled to the Diablo Canyon nuclear plant in Avila Beach, asking fishermen if we could test the small croakers they caught off a nearby pier. We even tried to locate a small nuclear-waste facility just so we could capture the Geiger counter displaying a high number. But we couldn’t find what Jones wanted, and after two weeks of traveling from San Diego to Portland, we flew back to Texas as failures, bracing for Jones’s rage. (Jones did not respond to detailed queries sent before publication by The Times Magazine.)
Over time, I came to learn that keeping Jones from getting angry was a big part of the job, though it was impossible to predict his outbursts. Stories abounded among my co-workers: The blinds stuck, so he ripped them off the wall. A water cooler had mold in it, so he grabbed a large knife, stabbed the plastic base wildly and smashed it on the ground. Headlines weren’t strong enough; the news wasn’t being covered the way he wanted; reporters didn’t know how to dress properly. Once a co-worker stopped by the office with a pet fish he was taking home to his niece. It swam in circles in a small, transparent bag. When Jones saw the bag balanced upright on a desk in the conference room, he emptied it into a garbage can. On one occasion, he threatened to send out a memo banning laughter in the office. “We’re in a war,” he said, and he wanted people to act accordingly.
I also saw Jones give an employee the Rolex off his own wrist, simply because he thought the employee was mad at him. “Now, would a bad guy do that?” Jones asked as he handed over the watch. Once, when I went to interview a frequent guest of Jones’s, I was sent with a check to cover a potentially lifesaving cancer treatment. A few times I came close to quitting, and like clockwork, just before I pulled the plug, I received a bonus or significant raise. I hadn’t discussed my discontent with Jones, but he seemed to sense it.
Jones often told his employees that working for him would leave a black mark on our records. To him, it was the price that must be paid for boldly confronting those in power — what he called the New World Order or, later, the deep state. Once my beliefs began to shift, I saw the virulent nature of his world, the emptiness and loathing in many of those impassioned claims. But I was certain that after four years working for Jones, I would never be able to get another job — banished into poverty as penance for my transgressions, and rightly so.
When Jones wanted to blow off steam, we would travel to a private ranch outside Austin to shoot guns. Among other firearms, we would bring the two Barrett .50-caliber rifles he kept stashed in the office. Because we never missed an opportunity to create more content, we also brought along cameras to turn whatever happened into a segment for his show.
I remember one trip in particular. It was the summer of 2014, and I rode to the ranch in the back of a co-worker’s truck, surrounded by semiautomatic rifles, boxes of ammunition and Tannerite, an explosive rifle target. A few of us left early in the morning, arriving before Jones to film B-roll and load magazines; he had no patience for preparation. When he came hours later, after eating a few handfuls of jalapeño chips, he picked up an AR-15 and accidentally fired it in my direction.
The bullet hit the ground about 10 feet away from me. One employee, who was already uncomfortable around firearms, lost it, accusing Jones of being careless and flippant. This was one of the few times I saw someone call Jones out and the only time he didn’t get angry in response. He claimed he had intentionally fired the gun as a joke — as if this were any better.
I stood by silently, considering what might have happened if the gun had been pointed a little to the right. After a while the upset employee let it go, and no one brought it up again. We cracked open a few more beers, filled an old television with Tannerite and blew it up.
One weekend, a few people from the office went hunting at a game reserve. On the following Monday, I was handed a hard drive full of video files and told to edit them for Jones to air on his show later in the week. “There are clips in here that are pretty bad, things we don’t want to get out, so let me take a look at this before we upload it,” one of my managers said.
The first video I clicked on came from a cellphone. The camera pans across a blood-covered floor in what looked like a garage. Dead animals were scattered about: eyes lifeless, tongues hanging from their mouths, crimson streaks splashed on their fur.
In another video, a bison grazed quietly in the shade of a large tree; it reminded me of a tableau at the American Museum of Natural History. Then the camera panned over to Jones, maybe 20 yards away, holding what looked like a handgun. Jones began firing at the bison, tufts of hair flying with every hit. The animal remained standing as Jones shot round after round. Finally, the hunting guide yelled at Jones to stop and handed him a high-caliber rifle. Jones took a moment to make sure the cameras were still recording and fired a few more rounds as the animal finally collapsed.
I shared a large room with three other employees, and Jones often walked into our office after he wrapped for the day. His first question was always “How was the show?” If anyone said it was great — someone, if not everyone, always said it was great — his response was the same. “Really?” he would say, moving over to their side of the room. “Did you really think it was great? What did you like about it?”
Working for Jones was a balancing act. You had to determine where he was emotionally and match his tone quickly. If he was angry, then you had better get angry. If he was joking around, then you could relax, sort of, always looking out of the corner of your eye for his mood to turn at any moment.
Late one night, after an extended live broadcast, Jones walked into my office shirtless. This was normal; he removed his shirt frequently around us. He pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose from a storage cabinet and filled his cup. He stumbled into his private restroom, changed into a clean black polo shirt and stepped back into our office. “Hit me,” he said to an employee in the room. When the employee refused, Jones got louder, his face redder. “Hit me!” He kept saying it, getting closer each time. Finally, knowing Jones would never relent, the employee gave him a weak tap on the shoulder.
“Oh, come on,” he said, “hit me harder!”
The employee punched him hard in the shoulder. Jones grunted on impact, seeming to enjoy the pain. Then, it was his turn. Smirking, he planted his feet, reared back and lunged his body weight forward as his fist connected with the man’s arm. I could hear the dull thud of impact, then a wincing sigh. They traded a few more punches, each time seeming less playful. Jones became wild-eyed, spit flying from his clenched teeth as he exhaled. On his last hit, the sound was different. Wet. I thought I could hear the meat split open in the employee’s arm. Jones roared as he punched a cabinet, denting the door in. A few weeks later, I heard that Jones had broken a video editor’s ribs after playing the same game in a downtown bar.
Having aligned himself with Donald Trump during the 2016 presidential race, Jones might now be considered a version of a conservative, but his perspective is much more complicated than that. Infowars was like a lot of digital-media outlets, in that we reported on the things our top editor thought would go viral. But because our boss was Alex Jones, this was a peculiar process. Assignments were often handed down live on the air during his show. We were to have it playing throughout the office, always listening for directives. Ideas for stories mostly came from what other news outlets reported. Jones wanted us to “hijack” the mainstream media’s coverage and use it to our advantage. If it fit into the Infowars narrative, it played.
When I wasn’t at the office, I spent much of my time traveling for Jones. I inhaled the tear gas in Ferguson, Mo., during the Black Lives Matter protests, retching as I hid with protesters, corralled by cops in riot gear. I stood next to armed cowboys and ranch hands as they faced off against the Bureau of Land Management to retrieve Cliven Bundy’s cattle in Nevada. I had dinner with the leader of the Nation of Islam, Louis Farrakhan, at his home in Phoenix and spent a weekend at the compound of Jim Bakker, the televangelist who spent time in prison for fraud. Jones’s instinctual desire to distance himself from the mainstream led us to unusual and sometimes dark places.
In December 2015, the day before Jones interviewed Donald Trump, still a candidate at the time, on his radio show, I made my way to upstate New York on assignment, along with a reporter and second cameraman. We were sent to visit Muslim-majority communities throughout the United States to investigate what Jones instructed us to call “the American Caliphate.” After the California Geiger-counter debacle, we had meetings with Jones before trips in order to ascertain exactly what he wanted. If we “hit some home runs,” he said, we would get significant bonuses.
We landed in Newark at 12:30 p.m. on Dec. 1, 2015. The first stop was Islamberg, a Muslim community three hours north of Manhattan. It was founded in the 1980s by mostly African-American followers of a Pakistani cleric named Mubarik Ali Shah Gilani, who encouraged devotees of his conservative brand of Sufi Islam to establish small settlements across the rural United States. Gilani was suspected of association with the organization Jamaat ul-Fuqra, which was briefly designated as a terrorist group by the State Department in the 1990s; Gilani has denied any connection to the group. His followers in Islamberg had no record of violence, and some of them had denounced the Islamic State in an interview with Reuters earlier that year, saying they didn’t believe Islamic State members to be real Muslims. But unfounded rumors circulated around far-right corners of the internet that this community was a potential terrorist-training center. Jones, who thought the media consistently ingratiated themselves with Islamic extremists, believed them.
We pulled in, unannounced, to a dirt drive leading to the community, stopping at a flimsy cattle gate guarded by two men. The reporter, wearing a hidden camera, approached the entrance as we filmed the interaction from the vehicle. The men were calm and polite, if a little suspicious — reasonable given the circumstances. They denied our entry into Islamberg but took our number and told us we could return after they verified who we were.
It was only later, after listening to the audio from the reporter’s hidden camera, that I heard what he told the two men guarding the gate. “Basically, what we do is, we go around, and we do videos debunking claims of stuff,” the reporter said. “The word is, people say this is some kind of training camp, so we wanted to come in and get some footage and kind of put that whole rumor to rest.”
He gave them his real name — a name that, with a quick Google search, would lead back to Infowars, with its headlines like “Inside Sources: Bin Laden’s Corpse Has Been on Ice for Nearly a Decade,” “Special Report: Why Obama Brought Ebola to U.S. Exposed” and “VIDEO: ‘Demon’ Caught on Camera During Obama Visit?” Those headlines could be described by many words, but none of them would be “debunking.”
Because of the conspiracy theories about the place, Islamberg was a constant target of right-wing extremists. That April, a Tennessee man was arrested and later convicted of plotting to raise a militia to burn Islamberg’s mosque to the ground. Only days before we arrived, the F.B.I. issued an alert to law enforcement to be on the lookout for a man named Jon Ritzheimer, the leader of an anti-Muslim movement in Arizona who posted a video threatening violence against Muslims less than two weeks earlier. In the video, he brandished a handgun, saying: “I’m urging all Americans across the U.S. everywhere in public, start carrying a slung rifle with you, everywhere. Don’t be a victim in your own country.”
So the phone call we received later that night from a law-enforcement agent shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The officer who contacted us said he simply wanted to verify who we were after receiving a concerned call from someone in Islamberg. We told Jones about it, and he chose to believe the call was a veiled threat, an attempt to intimidate us into silence. To him, this verified that we were onto something. He even went so far as to include Michael Bloomberg, the former mayor of New York City, in the purported conspiracy, claiming he wanted to abolish the Second Amendment — and that somehow intimidating us would achieve that.
Jones told us to file a story that accused the police of harassment, lending credence to the theory that this community contained dangerous, potential terrorists. I knew this wasn’t the case according to the information we had. We all did. Days before, we spoke to the sheriff and the mayor of Deposit, N.Y., a nearby municipality. They both told us the people in Islamberg were kind, generous neighbors who welcomed the surrounding community into their homes, even celebrating holidays together.
The information did not meet our expectations, so we made it up, preying on the vulnerable and feeding the prejudices and fears of Jones’s audience. We ignored certain facts, fabricated others and took situations out of context to fit our narrative, posting headlines like:
Drone Investigates Islamic Training Center
Shariah Law Zones Confirmed in America
Infowars Reporters Stalked by Terrorism Task Force
Report: Obama’s Terror Cells in the U.S.
The Rumors Are True: Shariah Law Is Here!
Our next stop was Hamtramck, a Muslim-majority city embedded within Detroit that alarmists in neighboring communities called Shariahville. As we headed west, my phone vibrated, and a news alert appeared on the screen. There were reports that a mass shooting that week in San Bernardino, Calif., had been perpetrated by Islamic extremists, making it at the time the deadliest Islamic attack in the United States since Sept. 11.
I knew that when the details emerged, they would substantiate the lies we pushed to Jones’s audience. It didn’t matter if the attack took place on the other side of the country or if the people in Islamberg had no connection to the perpetrators in San Bernardino. Jones’s listeners would draw imaginary lines between the two, and we were helping them do it.
I quit working for Jones on April 7, 2017. When offered another job, an introductory position with a 75 percent pay cut, I jumped at the opportunity. Instead of giving two weeks’ notice, I left in three hours. Jones had gone home for the day, so I didn’t speak with him in person. I said goodbye to co-workers and managers, handed over my company credit card and hoped that would be the end of it. Two nights later, I received a call from Jones: “Let me tell you a little secret,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I don’t like it anymore, either.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I don’t want to do it anymore,” he said, “and I got all these people working for me, and you know, then I feel guilty. I don’t want to do it. You think I want to keep doing this? I haven’t wanted to do this for five years, man.” I sensed that he was pandering, but I couldn’t help thinking that for the first time since I started this job, Jones and I finally had something in common. Sure, there was a time when I shared his anger. In fact, I was still angry. But this is where we differed: I wasn’t angry with others; I was angry with myself. And once I realized that, it was easier to walk away. When I left, I tried to put myself in his shoes, to figure out why he said and did the things he did. At times I saw a different side to Jones, one that was vulnerable, desiring validation and acceptance. Then he would say something so vile and callous it became impossible to look past it.
Even though I was no longer beholden to Jones for financial security, I couldn’t be honest about how I felt. I was to blame for my actions, unequivocally, and yet I resented Jones for creating an environment of rage, fear and confusion that diminished discernment, increased self-doubt and left me feeling as if my brain had short-circuited. I wanted to say these things to Jones, but I didn’t.
He offered to double my pay, suggested I work remotely and even proposed funding a feature-length film of my own. I said it wasn’t about money and turned him down. To this day, I still don’t know why he wanted to keep me around. He said it was because he cared about me, but if I had to guess, I would say his main concern was losing control.
The next morning, he called numerous times, and then again that evening. I let the calls go to voice mail.
There wasn’t a single moment that persuaded me to leave, but there was a turning point: a moment that stuck with me long after it happened. I thought of it as I sat next to Jones speeding recklessly down the highway on Election Day, when I walked out of the office for the last time and when I decided to sit down and write this article.
It was early morning, and we were headed back to Austin after the trip that began in Islamberg. As we boarded our flight, I took my window seat close to the rear of the plane. An older woman wearing a hijab sat next to me. With her was a young girl, giddy with excitement, who bounced in the middle seat, holding a bag of pretzels. The woman leaned over and asked if I would let the girl sit by the window. “This is her first time on a plane,” she said. I agreed and moved my bag from under the seat.
I thought of the children who lived in Islamberg: how afraid their families must have felt when their communities were threatened and strangers appeared asking questions; how we chose to look past these people as individuals and impose on them more of the same unfair suspicions they already had to endure. And for what? Clickbait headlines, YouTube views?
As I sat on the aisle, the plane now lifting up into the pale blue sky, I glanced over at the little girl staring out the window in wonder, her face glowing from the light reflecting off the clouds. She was amazed, joyful, innocent, carefree and completely unaware of the world beneath her.
Josh Owens is a writer living in Texas. This is his first article for the magazine.
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nightonomy · 5 years
Text
The Final Show
Ship: Kaminari X Jirou from BNHA
Description: The final year at UA also concludes Jirou's band. With her music, can she reach Kaminari's heart with her final performance?
Author's words: I absolutely ADORE this ship! I regret making it long... I also uploaded it to my ao3 account, click here! I made a banner :P
Warnings: Cussing
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Jirou was beyond ecstatic for her final year at UA! Especially since her goal at becoming a Pro Hero was just around the corner. Unfortunately, there were some obstacles that obscured her path.
For instance, every 3rd year student at UA had to decide their future. Such as going to college, joining an agency, finding mentors, and finding a trustworthy insurance company-- to fix any damage that might happen while working.
For Jirou, this was a walk in the park! She had planned-- months prior, that she was going to mentor under Present Mic before joining an agency.
Although she laid down her future path, Jirou was like any students in her year. Apprehensive. But not for the reason that you may think.
The purple-hair girl had started a band in the middle of her first year, that had grown sensationally! Reaching many thrilling hits and succeeding in several genres, Jirou was extremely proud to have been the leader.
But all of that was coming to an end.
Bakugou was going on to bigger and higher platforms that would no doubt, make him the number one hero; Yaoyoruzu was going to be a huge publicity hero and make herself known in the public eye; Tokoyami was going to train up in the mountains for years, before coming back into the city; and Kaminari? Well, the big doofus was going to join Kirishima and mentor under Fat Gum, who unfortunately had to put up with both of their stupidity.
These were all wonderful and exciting futures for her friends, but why did she feel sad?
Jirou was scribbling down lyric ideas into her notebook when suddenly, a body collided into her desk.
"Hey!"
"Ah! Sorry, Jirou!!" Kaminari grinned widely at her, before throwing another fake punch at Kirishima.
"Pshhhh... It isn't manly of you to disturb a lady while she's busy, Denki."
"Hah!" Kaminari landed a punch before Kirishima activated his hardening quirk. "It's not my fault! You're the one who push me into the desk!"
Jirou rolled her eyes at their bizarre antics and picked up her notebook, shuffling over to Yaoyoruzu's desk.
"They really do share one brain cell, huh, Momo?"
"Hm?" Yaoyoruzu barely lifted her head to greet Jirou, too engrossed in her own notebook to pay attention.
Jirou frowned. "Heeeeeeey, earth to Momo?"
As if on cue, the black-hair girl snapped out of her concentration and fully faced her friend with an apologetic smile.
"S-Sorry about that!! I really need to get more sleep these days..." Yaoyoruzu trailed off. She then shook her head once more and lifted up her notebook, showing a design of a hero suit.
"I was thinking about changing my costume," she said sheepishly. "Do you think this is too... girly?"
"Girly? It looks like a suit for an R-rated hero!Besides, aren't you going for PG13 at most?"
Yaoyoruzu nodded her head slowly in agreement, before clasping her hands together and thanking the purple-hair girl for her opinion.
"So! What did you need?"
Jirou opened her mouth to reply, but then the bell for class rang, and she quickly dived to her seat.
"Later." She mouthed.
- Time skip -
"Later" was a complete understatement. Usually for the soon-to-be hero, it meant "until lunch." But this time, this time, it meant "give me an entire week because people SERIOUSLY cannot get their shit done!"
For the entire week, Jirou was tasked with fixing her entire band! Even the words, "fixing up" was an understatement! She had to buy new supplies, get new wires, re-order speakers, re-edit the soundtracks, and find out why her online merchandise store was glitching.
But, by the end of the week, it was all finally fixed!
Jirou collapsed onto the dorm room's couch in pure exhaustion. Her body was sinking into the couch, sending her into bliss. Even her eyelids were on the brink of shutting! Dream land was just an arm length away. But unfortunately, her mind was bursting with ideas, each running frantically into different directions.
With a sigh, Jirou sat up and searched through her backpack.
"Ah hah! There you are!" With a delighted smile, the purple-head slammed down the notebook onto the coffee table and turned to an unfinished song.
"Hm? What did you find, Jirou?"
In an instance, the girl shrieked and threw the notebook across the room. She then turned around and strained a grin at the person behind her.
It was Kaminari.
"Oh... Hey Kaminari! What's up?" Jiroy twirled the dangling part of her ear and fluttered her eyelashes. Hopefully the dunce part of his brain will kick in...
With a raised eyebrow, Kaminari walked over to the thrown notebook and picked it up. "So... am I not supposed to ask why you just freaked out? Or should I stay silent?"
As he was about the hand back the notebook, Kaminari conveniently looked down and noticed the unfinished song. "Hm? What's thi- hey!"
Jirou had hastily grabbed her notebook from the yellow-head and turned away, a blush forming on her cheeks. Please tell me he didn't read it...
"It's nothing! Just a list of agencies I was looking into..."
"You know," Kaminari said slowly. He then placed a hand on the Jirou's shoulder. "Fat-Gum was looking to find another student... preferably a female." He chuckled.
Jirou blinked. "Wha-"
"Anyways, it would be nice to be partners with you again... but this time in crime!"
Partners in crime. The words stayed glued to her conscious as Jirou quickly walked away. It was a good title.
"Yeah... sure... I uh... have things to do! Don't be late to practice and I'll see you tomorrow! Good night!"
"Okay! Good night, Jirou! Think about it, would yeah?"
Jirou walked away without a reply and the open she reached her room, she had slammed shut the door behind her and grabbed the nearest guitar.
Playing a couple cords, her heart returned back to it's original beat and Jirou leaned her head back, deep in thought. The song was close to finish-- all it needed was a title and an ending verse.
But, it wasn't the fact that one of her band members saw an original-- because that was a petty thing to get angry over. It was because the person who she wanted to dedicate everything to, saw it. The one person who made her panick with a red face and a heart that beat 1 million beats a minute, read it. That was almost as bad as fighting All Might face to face!
Hopefully things will get better. Jirou thought.
Hopefully.
- Time Skip -
That fucking, son of a bitch, mother fucking of a Pikachu, deserves death. No, no, no. The dunce didn't deserve death, he deserved a thousand years of hunger and agonizing pain!
Jirou stomped into her room and slammed the door shut. She grabbed the nearest guitar and strung a note with so much furry, the sound vibrated for minutes. After a while, the note died down and so did the purple-head's anger.
She was infuriated at none other, than Kaminari. Who, conveniently was being a huge piece of shit these last few weeks.
For example, three weeks ago Jirou declared for the band to practice one last time before heading back to the dorm room. Usually, this meant to go all out and don't. Hold. Back.
Who would have thought that Kamin fucking Nari decided to actually go all out??
"Okay, guys! One last practice and then we can all head back home!" Jirou had declared proudly. For her, these practices meant a time to rejuvenate and connect to music, passionately. "One, two three-"
All of a sudden, the speakers had blasted music that made everyone fall to the floor, clutching their ears in pain.
It was the sound of a guitar.
"WHAT THE FUCK, KAMINARI?!"
"YOU WANNA FUCK???" Kaminari gave a playful-wide grin at Jirou and continued with his charade.
She became bright-burning red with embarrassment. As she scrambled up the turn off the speaker, Jirou had listed 100 different ways the kill Kaminari. Scratch that, 1 million!
The purple-head had successfully turned off the speaker and turned towards the blonde, "OUT!"
Thinking back to this time, Jirou regretted the way she acted. After all, it wasn't Kaminari or Jirou's fault for their actions.
They-- including all of the 3rd years, were all incredibly stressed out with studying for their finals and college entrance exams. That including rigorous training and last minute plans for the future.
Jirou pulled out a song labeled, "Hopefully Partners." She had finished it a couple weeks back, but never had the time to play it. It was, after all, a song she dedicated for Kaminari.
He had been the one to encourage Jirou to make the band, created the name, and made her life rotate around his words. He was the only one who had done anything for her, out of pure kindness.
Picking up her guitar, she strung a chord.
"Electric waves are dancing. Oh yeah. Dancing around you, babe." She took a deep breath, "The thumping beat of thunder, is creating a symphony that makes me think, will this all fade?"
Jirou stopped after. This is super cheesy... With a shake of her head and a smile, she picked up her phone and diled Yaoyoruzu's number. If she was going to sing this song, then she better get practicing.
- Time Skip -
"Jirou... what are you wearing?!"
The girl in question turned around, confused. "What do you mean?"
Yaoyoruzu sighed and exclaimed, "This is a monstrosity! How are you supposed to go onstage with this... this horror?!" She waved arms up and down, pointing out all the flaws of the dress.
This was their very last performance. After tonight, the band was just another prominent figure in history. They had all played several songs before this, but performance was special.
Jirou had called the manager to schedule a secret show, dedicated to Kaminari-- who was going to be in the crowd, oblivious and certainly living up to his nickname.
"Momo, it doesn't look that bad,"
Rolling her eyes, Yaoyoruzu grabbed the purple-head by the ear and shoved her to the nearest changing room. "This is why I bring extra clothes! You're going to look absolutely fabulous tonight!"
Groaning, Jirou shook her head and slipped into the outfit. She was then pulled into a chair while Yaoyoruzu did her makeup. All when having to hear the black-hair girl exclaim how much of a disappointment Jirou was.
"And done! What do you think?"
She stood up and walked over to the nearest full-body mirror. The dress came down, mid-way to her thigh, and it was similar what she wore to I-Expo. Except, it had black-dark clouds on her chest, then a sunset color bow on her stomach, and then purple and yellow lighting strikes going all the way down.
She was in awe.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we actually have one last performance from your beloved band! As an apology for this long and late night, drinks and appetizers will be free!"
Jirou snapped out and quickly gave Yaoyoruzu a hug, whispering a thank you into her ear.
"Please don't thank me," Yaoyoruzu giggled, "Thank your terrible fashion skills. Now come on, we have a show to preform!"
Jirou shook her head in laughter and together, they went on stage.
The bright lights hit her in the eyes, blinding her from the crowd. She walked over to the microphone, guitar in hand.
"Uh..." she turned around and faced her friends with a smile. "I would first like to thank my amazing band members for pushing through these last three years, my classmates for attending every show, and all of you for encouraging us every night."
She blinked.
"But I would like to thank everything to Kaminari Denki. This song is for you!"
With that, she strung her guitar and the lyrics poured out of her like water. Every note-- every word fit in like pieces of a puzzle. The music flew through the crowd, entrancing them in a slumber that made them lean in for more.
The song was three minutes long, but for Jirou, it was as long as ten seconds. As the last note played, she bowed. There was so much more that she wanted to say. There was so much more songs that she wanted to make and preform.
A bitterness filled her heart as she walked off stage, but then a thought occured to her. Jirou ran back, bumping into the backstage members and hastily grabbed the microphone.
"I LOVE YOU, YOU STUPID PIKACHU!"
Jirou was pulled off stage by embarrassed backstage members and she was carried over to Yaoyoruzu, who gave them a sympathetic smile.
"That was... really amazing of you, Jirou."
Jirou froze in her tracks. Her blood rushed to her head, her muscles screamed at her to run, but her feet stayed rooted to her spot.
"S-shut up... Kaminari."
Yaoyoruzu, who felt extremely awkward gave Jirou a pat and gave hand signals to everyone to leave them.
"Ugh. Just get a room, jeez." A girl-- around Jirou's age muttered while passing by them. The words only made her burn like lava.
"Wh-what do you want?"
Kaminari hummed, amused by the girl's mortification. "I was thinking.. how about going to the park?"
"What?" Jirou whispered.
"I kind of... planned something tonight, as well." Kaminsri stated, also embarrassed. He then held out his hand. "Wanna go?"
Jirou reached out, but then retreated a bit in hesitation. Was she really willing to go out with the biggest idiot in Japan?
"F-fine."
Unfortunately, Jirou was looking at the ground as Kamianri led them to the park, because she didn't notice the adorable grin that spread across his cheeks.
The lamps lit the path and as they neared their destinations Jirou couldn't help but let out a suprise gasp. Kaminari-- with help by all their friends, had decked out the park like a full on love paradise.
There were fairy lights and lanterns that hung from tree to tree, heart shaped balloons that twirled in the wind, and even sprinkled rose petals on the gravel path.
If this was extravagant, then Jirou didn't know what else to call the next biggest suprise of the night. Because at the center, there stood an ice gazebo with the most romantic dinner laid out.
"You're going to attract flies, Jirou." Kaminari chuckled.
Jirou immediately shut her mouth and playfully smacked him. "S-shut up."
As they both sat down to eat, the atmosphere changed. Their normal, playful chatter that consisted of pure stupidity filled the night's air, and if you recorded their conversation, it would sound like a quarrel between a squirrel and a chipmunk.
"So," Electric boy placed his utensils down and scratched the back of his head. "I've been meaning to tell you something for a long time..."
Jirou looked up and as if a boulder was in her throat, she swallowed. "Yeah?"
"Jirou... no, scratch that. Kyouka-- wait, can I call you Kyouka??"
"Sure...?" This wasn't the first time Pikachu boy had said her name. But, the tingling senses in her heart definitely hadn't happen the last time.
Kaminari coughed. "Will you be my girlfriend?"
His gaze penetrated hers. There was no laughter, no sense of playfulness that usually surrounded Kaminari. Hi eyes that was usually bright and cheerful, was filled with a serious glint that was as hard as steel. The pounding in the poor girl's heart had increased three times it's usual beat, but she couldn't care less.
"HAH! Stop joking around Pikachu! You seriously need-"
"I'm serious."
The cherry blossoms that surrounded them, swayed to the wind, creating a beautiful scene that surrounded Jirou's vision. As if it were possible, the dunce head in front of her looked truly handsome.
She smiled. "Fine. But then I get to call you Pikabae."
Kaminari burst out of his seat and with a quick swoop, picked up the magnificent girl in front of him. "You can call me whatever you want. As long as your mine!"
They both laughed, eyes twinkling beneath the starry night. Kaminari slowly set her down, but his arms never left her waist. They were centimeters apart, and if Jirou wanted to, she could close the gap.
And she did.
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