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shoppncarticles · 1 year

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Viva Piñata

After the monumental success of Pokemon in 1996, several other companies tried giving the monster-catching craze a shot in attempts to reach the same level of commercial bounty that Game Freak and Nintendo had, though it rarely led to any long-term success. This wasn’t exclusive to just the later 90s though, since Pokemon’s continuing status as a media empire meant that there must still be a market for quirky critter-catching simulators. Enter Microsoft, who joined the gaming industry in 2001, and had a stroke of good fortune with their second console, the Xbox 360. Competing with the Nintendo Wii and PlayStation 3, the Xbox 360 was pretty popular and widespread for the time, encouraging Microsoft to find more ways to branch out and expand their console’s appeal.

Microsoft was also in control of Rare Ltd. at the time, the creators of games like Donkey Kong Country and Banjo-Kazooie. Figuring they could make something with broad, marketable appeal similar to Pokemon, Microsoft gave them the task of creating a new monster-collecting IP. Luckily, Rare already had a concept lying around that could fit the bill, so they set out to work developing what was supposed to be a new juggernaut. They even paired with 4Kids to get a cartoon made and ready during the game’s development.

The end result was Viva Piñata, a cross between a gardening and a pet raising simulator that gives players a garden to call their own and decorate in attempts to attract wild living piñatas to hopefully tame and live there. True to Rare’s standard affair, the game is very colorful and nicely stylized, featuring several different piñatas who each (usually) have names that combine what type of animal they are with a sugary food. You can even get the piñatas to breed if you so choose, encouraged since only 2 of one piñata type will show up in the wild at a time.

The piñatas aren’t the only thing players have to care for, though, since gardening does matter quite a bit, and plants can be farmed and bred in order to create flora which better attracts the wild paper-mâché fauna. Things aren’t all bright and cheery though, since not only will players be tormented by villainous Ruffians who seek to ruin the garden and even smash piñatas, but players are also encouraged to do some pretty twisted things to their piñatas in order to make extra cash. I mean, these are living creatures you’re sending out to get smashed at parties, after all.

Unfortunately, though, Viva Piñata didn’t see anywhere near the amount of success Microsoft was really hoping for. Despite getting that cartoon made, and spending quite a bit on marketing (I remember there being a line of Kid’s Meal toys at one fast food chain), the game struggled to find a solid foothold in the market. It sold well enough, around 500,000 copies a year after its launch, but nowhere near Pokemon’s multimillion figures.

Truthfully, it didn’t mesh well with the Xbox’s primary demographic, which were teenagers and adults who bought the console for online shooters like Halo. The children who did buy it weren’t much better off, since, while bright and welcoming on the outside, Viva Piñata has some unnecessarily strict and complex mechanics and requirements for progression that children would likely be unable to micromanage and organize. Game progression can be pretty simple, but if you’re looking to tame all the piñatas or generate a steady stream of revenue, be ready to open the in-game encyclopedia multiple times. Several piñatas have wickedly complex requirements in order to be tamed or breed.

Viva Piñata would get a sequel two years later, a truncated DS ‘port,’ and a party game spinoff, but would seem to fade away from the public’s – and Microsoft’s – consciousness soon after. It’s a real shame, if you ask me, since it’s clear that like so many of Rare’s other games a real level of care and attention to detail has been put into these games that elevates them a bit higher than other ‘Pokemon Clones.’ Hell, with how different Viva Piñata’s gameplay is, I don’t think it may even be fair to call it a Pokemon Clone, it stands well enough on its own as a unique experience.

To give this forgotten game some fresh attention, I wanted to go ahead and share some of the piñatas which I enjoy the most or find to be quite noteworthy. There are about 60 different species in total, so I can’t cover every single one of them, but hopefully this selection should still do them some justice.

Mousemallow

“My crazy grandmother always said: 1. Mousemallows are never bigger than the gap under the pantry door, 2. never fall for the "blind" routine, and 3. never trust a Mousemallow wearing pants!”

Starting with a simple one, Mousemallow is Viva Piñata’s resident cute tiny rodent. The huge paper or cardboard discs are a clever way to give it big, comical ears, and the darker coloring around its eyes gives it a cute bandit mask look. Purple is a nice palette for it, but each piñata comes with 3 alternate palettes for you to customize them with as well, Mousemallow has one that’s solid yellow that occurs whenever it eats cheese.

Each piñata species also comes with a unique home building you can place in your garden (which isn’t necessary to keep them around, but is if you want them to breed). Mousemallow’s is a large grandfather clock, which is quite clever given the Hickory Dickory Dock nursery rhyme. The additional mouse-shaped wood carvings are a nice touch too.

Buzzlegum

“Why do Buzzlegums make honey? I think it's a bribe so we'll be their friends. I mean, without the delicious, sweet honey, you're left with nothing more than a fat wasp.”

I don’t think you can get much dopier than this bee. This thing looks like it’s barely had a coherent thought in its life. Buzzlegums don’t have to just sit around and look stupid all day, though, you can build a bee box in your garden to make the Buzzlegum produce honey for some extra profit. If you make it wear its own beekeeper’s hat, it can even do the whole process automatically.

Candary

“Not only is the Candary small and yellow, but it can "detect" poison gas in mines. Not only pretty but practical too.”

The Candary’s description makes note of the poor bird’s tendency to be used to check for toxic fumes in mineshafts, something Rare already poked fun at in Banjo-Tooie with the character Canary Mary. Candaries don’t have it any easier, since you can build your own mineshaft in your garden for extra cash generation too. While you could hire some miners to dig out rocks for you, you could also buy a gas mask for your Candary and send it into the mines by itself instead. Remember when people half-jokingly (or even seriously) would question the ethics of Pokemon catching and battling? Well, the world of Viva Piñata has no qualms using these colorful candy-filled animals for hard manual labor. In fact, it’s even more efficient to have a Candary work in the mines since you don’t have to pay it salary. Now that’s economic!

Sherbat

“When Piñatas were just evolving, what would become the Sherbat was developing a taste for extreme sports. For a time, it looked like street-pizza extinction. Then one morning, that strange creature with the sagging armpits became a Sherbat legend!”

...what?

The Sherbat is kind of disappointing, since it looks more like a cartoon exaggeration of a rabbit more than it does a bat. It is pretty amusing, though, seeing it flap those tiny wings as it flutters around your garden.

Actually, the Sherbat first comes in a Sour variant when spotted in the wild. Sour Piñatas are usually nuisances to your garden, causing a variety of problems either for your plants or current residents. The Sour Sherbat specifically will ‘drain’ your piñatas as if it were a vampire, causing them to fall ill. Once one Sour Piñata of a given species has been tamed though, all future wild piñatas of that species will be normal and harmless. It’s a shame though, in the case of the Sherbat, since the Sour variant is so much better looking than its normal design. I love the oversized wings and tiny body, and the sinister little eyes and fangs are a great touch too. You could theoretically keep a Sour Piñata in your garden if you wanted, but it would just cause annoyances until you either tame it or smash it into candy.

Sherbat homes are at least excellently designed. I really enjoy the exaggerated and uneven shapes of the gothic fence and tower, and the glowing green lantern is a great cherry on top.

Arocknid

“This eight-legged Piñata is perfect for any birthday party that takes place on October 31st, but it's not always the most popular Piñata on the block. There's a reason some folks can't wait to whack it with a stick, and it's not just the candy inside!”

I’m happy to see a spider piñata is a part of this catalog, and even happier to see it has a full eight legs and multiple pairs of eyes. The description also shines some light on the fact that, despite being alive, these piñatas are still filled with candy and smashed at parties without remorse, which you can even send your own piñatas to for some cash. They always return unharmed, though, so you needn’t worry about their well-being. Physically, at least.

Arocknids are also predatory, they are based on spiders after all. Taming one means that you have to let it eat two of your Taffly or Raisant piñatas. It’s not hard to do that, since you can attract two piñatas of one type from the wild, but what the game doesn’t tell you is that you actually need 4 of either piñata in your garden to get the Arocknid to actually visit. As I said previously, you can’t attract that many of one species from the wild, so you’ve either got to buy more from a piñata hunter or start breeding them.

Also, one of Arocknid’s alternate palettes give it an orange body and purple legs, gained by eating – what else – a Jack-o-Lantern. Succeeding where Pokemon failed, I see.

Reddhott

“Imagine scorching the furniture when you sit on it. Imagine having to move every few seconds because if you don't, the ground underneath you sets alight. What kind of life is that? Who is responsible for this?”

The Reddhott’s description shows how this game is still chock full of Rare’s signature sarcastic writing style, and acknowledges how twisted it is for you to go and make one these things. Unlike another piñatas, Reddhotts can’t be found in the wild, and instead must be evolved from pre-existing ones. By setting a normal Taffly piñata on fire, then quickly dousing it, you can get a Reddhott, the piñata version of a firefly. Kind of. It sells for quite a bit of money, and Tafflies are easy to come by, so you could get a bunch of them and turn them into Reddhotts for a quick profit. Y’know, if you were a demented pyromaniac or something.

Pudgeon

“All Pudgeons are filled with state-of-the-art GPS tracking systems. So, like a feathery boomerang, they always come back. Take them on holiday, load them up with duty-free and avoid hassle with the customs.”

This thing perfectly captures just about everything about Pigeons. The incredibly tiny eye is what seals the deal, though, I think. Just like the Buzzlegum, it looks appropriately dopey and thoughtless like the real thing.

Bizarrely, one of the requirements a Pudgeon needs to meet before it can breed is that it need’s to be wearing a Reporter’s Camera accessory. That’s a feature too, that you can dress up your piñatas in little knick-knacks and clothing accessories. Why a pigeon needs to wear a camera in order to procreate is beyond me, though.

The Pudgeon’s home is a statue of the game’s main antagonist, Professor Pester, only splattered with… some kind of white substance. You never see piñatas defecate during gameplay, so it’s a mystery where those droppings come from. Especially since you buy the statue already in that state.

Cluckles

“Right from the beginning, scrambled, boiled, or fried; then there's the cute fluffy bit (ahhh); then we dive right back into roast, boiled or fried. How can there be any left?”

Cluckles is quite the cute chicken piñata, I really enjoy how round and simplified its body is, and the nice palette of red, orange, and green it’s got make a good mesh of colors. It looks like one of the most believable piñatas of the bunch, for what that’s worth. Cluckles is also quite a useful utility piñata too, since it’ll help speed up the hatching any eggs in your garden, helpful if you’re trying to get awards for breeding a piñata type multiple times.

Profitamole

“All that time spent underground has deteriorated the Profitamole's eyes so they can barely see. This has probably saved the species because, let's face it, Profitamoles don't look too hot.”

I don’t know what that description is talking about, Profitamoles are positively ADORABLE. Look at how small and fluffy this thing is. It’s just a nugget of fuzzy piñata paper. I guess the problem might be the fact that it looks like it’s got red eyes? But that’s just rings around the outside of the eyes, otherwise it’s got a normal set of peepers. Profitamoles are helpful too, they’ll eat up and big clumps of dirt that happen to appear in your garden, either from improper mine usage or enemy Ruffians invading your turf.

Profitamoles come in Sour variants too, and while they certainly aren’t cute anymore, they are quite cool with their huge mouths and gnarly, jagged teeth.

Newtgat

“Ever wanted a Jameleon but found out they were too expensive? Your old Lickatoad is looking tired and out-of-date? Get a Newtgat-functions like a Lickatoad but with all that expensive Jameleon styling that you love.”

Called a newt, but more clearly resembling an axolotl, Newtgats are incredibly cute amphibious piñatas. Yeah, amphibious, because despite being made of paper-mâché these things can swim around in water with no consequence whatsoever. Maybe due to the axolotl’s predatory nature, but if you have both a Newtgat and a frog-like Lickatoad in your garden, the two will constantly quarrel and start fights with the other. These ammphibians don’t get along, it seems.

The Newtgat is pretty simple in gameplay, but can be fed a chili pepper to evolve into a Salamango, quite clever since axolotls themselves are just larval salamanders which never fully mature.

The Salamango’s cool and all, and has a neat fire theme going on, but I’d keep a Newtgat just the way it was, though. Is this how people feel about Wooper in opposition to Quagsire? I guess it makes more sense now.

Twingersnap

“When it comes to improving something, it's obvious that two is twice as good as one. This is the next step in Syrupent evolution. But they aren't just two heads - the left head is touch sensitive too!”

An evolution of sorts from the basic snake piñatas, Twingersnaps are based on real world mutations found in snakes that create two heads between them, only Twingersnap is a snake with two heads at each end rather than a fork. The method of getting a Twingersnap is a bit morbid, since instead of evolving a current Syrupent into becoming one, you have to deliberately smash a Syrupent egg right before it would’ve hatched in order to get one. You’ve ruined his thing’s birth and given it an unnatural mutation. Things don’t just stop there, though, because there’s also…

Fourheads

“Imagine the intellectual power! Four brains working in unison! A pity that someone skimped on the limbs, or this creature could have been revolutionary.”

Doing the same thing and smashing a Twingersnap egg will get you a Fourheads piñata, now resembling a hydra more than the average mutated snake. It even spits up argonaut helmets when attacking. Every piñata has a different object it uses when attacking, but none felt especially noteworthy until now. It’s a wonder that Fourheads is still able to breed and make eggs of its new species, considering it’s a mutation of a mutation. The wonders of piñata biology!

Doenut

“This animal is fast and flighty, not the sort of animal that you'd expect to get caught and eaten. Unfortunately, the horns on its head pick up T.V. signals and transmit them straight to its brain, a lethal distraction.”

A tamer example, the Doenut is a charmingly bright and colorful deer piñata. What’s most noteworthy about Doenut though, is what their house looks like.

For whatever reason, the Doenut’s home is a disco club, with a dancing deer neon sign. Sure, alright. Whatever makes these piñatas happiest I guess.

Macaraccoon

"The Macaraccoon is just naturally sneaky. You can trust it to behave now, but its twitchy movement doesn't inspire confidence."

Another big softie, the Macaraccoon gets the important charms of real raccoons down into a little candy-filled package. It even can upchuck Romance Candy once tamed - special food that helps piñatas breed faster if their specific requirements have already been met once before. The only downside about Macaracoons are that the game's aversion to use blacks or greys for piñatas' primary colors means that the Macaraccoon can't be a sleek monochrome, but it isn't a huge loss. The big mouth is pretty cute, it gives the Macaracoon a muppety look, almost.

Macaraccoons also come in Sour forms initially, featuring a huge rectangular shaped set of chompers they use to snack on any eggs you may have lying around. Dastardly for sure, but that red and black palette and set of oversized triangle teeth strike my fancy enough to maybe slip an egg or two its way. Hypothetically.

The Macaraccoon can be an utter pain to try and tame though, since it requires you to have 5 Master Romancer awards, only achieved once you’ve bred a piñata type at least 5 times (and keeping each child - it won’t count if you don’t have 7 members of a species in your garden at the same time).

Crowla

"When you see the Crowla, think less "dark, sinister, grave robber" and think more "garbage collector." It may stop that shiver tickling your spine."

Despite being a harmless, tamed piñata like all the others in your garden, Crowlas still has quite the mischevious grin of a ne'er-do-well that gives it a good splash of character that I like so much in my darkly-colored critter designs. Like Pokemon's own Murkrow, Crowlas has a jagged beak, nefarious-type expression, and charmingly gloomy palette. Crowlas also first appear in your garden as Sour Piñatas, but actually keep some traits from their eviller origins, namely the jagged underside of their beak. It might be my favorite of the whole bunch, honestly. Look at how devious it looks!

Sour Crowlas are much more wicked designs, thanks not only to the red and black palette, and the twisted curls of its patterns, but also the even more jagged shape of its beak, resembling a broken eggshell. I really like how most of the thing's body is dedicated to its mouth, it feels like some exaggerated enemy from another game. Sour Crowlas are quite dangerous since they'll kill sick piñatas before they can recover. Very morbid indeed!

Cocodile

"After some soothing, the Cocoadile's lethal snout becomes home to nature's widest grin."

Speaking of things that are almost entirely mouths, the Cocodile! This big gator's mouth is nearly twice the size of its own body, and its even got a bunch of rounded-down snaggletooths to boot just to make it even dopier and goofy looking. Cocodiles are actually pretty big in-game, but are entirely harmless like other tamed piñatas. In fact, Cocodiles have a utility feature, since they can be directed to water plants with their tears. Y'know, like crocodile tears, get it? I thought it was a bit clever.

There are Sour Cocodiles too, and I really like the contrast that they've got a big underbite in comparison to the normal Cocodile's overbite. That's a very imposing set of teeth, too. I've got to wonder what they're filling these piñatas with that isn't candy. Sour Cocodiles are quite a nuisance since they'll scare off any visiting NPCs in your garden, but who can blame them really?

Pigxie

"There is something very, very wrong here. I think this is a lesson in right and wrong for us all. That nagging voice in your head sometimes gets it right!"

The Pigxie isn't a natural piñata, and is instead a unique species created when you successfully get a pig-like Rashberry and a swan-like Swanana. Players hoping to receive a cool winged pig piñata will be sorely disappointed when this more realistically portrayed mutant hatches from the egg. The picture doesn't portray it well, but Pigxies are very asymmetrical and lopsided, leaning to one side at all times since their left seems to be lower down in their anatomy than the right. The left wing is smaller than the right, and its mouth even seems to be at a diagonal angle rather than the position it ought to be. Even worse, any tamed Rashberries or Swananas in your garden will try picking fights with Pigxies, as if deeply frightened and disgusted by the poor thing.

Surprisingly enough, like the Fourheads before it, Pigxies are actually capable of breeding still, but maybe it's better if you don't make that happen. One feature that I haven’t mentioned yet is that piñatas can come in ‘wild cards,’ meaning that a normal piñata will have some kind of additional feature on its body like spikes or tufts of fur. To get one means that you have to breed two piñatas while at least 6 members of that species are currently in your garden. I bring this up because these wild cards are effectively genetic mutations, unique traits and bodily growths which don’t carry down to future offspring. With enough dedication, you could. if you wanted, create a Pigxie with even more mutations. One of which includes a single, curled tusk, blocking most of its lopsided mouth.

Dragonache

"The ground shakes as it moves, the trees quiver when it roars, its breath can scorch the earth. Truly incredible and utterly terrible, and all the more desirable for it."

The final species in the original game, the Dragonache is a hidden piñata that can't be found in the wild and instead must be discovered and raised through various complex means. If players have a mine in their garden and have used it often enough, a Dragonache egg may be unearthed in it. The egg must then be hatched by a Cluckles, and then the Dragonache baby must be fed a set of five items and other piñatas before fully maturing into an adult. None of this is explained clearly in-game, but unlike some of the other strict requiremetns for taming or breeding other piñatas I think this is alright since the Dragonache is meant to be a hidden reward to experienced players.

And it certianly is quite the reward! I really appreciate how the Dragonache isn't just a typical lizard-like dragon made into a piñata, but is isntead some weird conglomeration of a creature with 4 eyes, 4 wings, 8 legs, and a spiky mane of frills. What with the various intricate and colorful patterns all over its body too, the Dragonache certianly feels like an ultra-strong mythical beast of all piñatas. The presence of a Dragonache alone will also prevent Sour Piñatas from entering your garden again, regardless if you've tamed them or not, which is a nice touch as well.

That about does it for the piñatas I wanted to cover from the first game. If any of these interested you, or if you were disappointed that your preferred animal didn't have a piñata counterpart, don't fret, as this is only a decent selection of the full game's roster. I'd say try looking into the game's catalog if you're interested in more, but sadly Viva Piñata has much less documentation online than it ought to have. Though, that's not all! As I said earlier, Viva Piñata did end up getting a sequel a couple years after its release, which added even more piñata species, and new environments to boot. I'll cover my favorite additions from that game as well, so stick around if you want to see more paper-mâché foolishness.

#viva pinata #viva piñata #creature design #creature feature

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antionettepilled · 9 months

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chat gpt, could you please write me an essay about the benefits of veganism through the voice of jesse pinkman from breaking bad?

Yo, listen up, science teacher! It's your boy Jesse Pinkman, and today we're diving into the world of veganism, yo. Now, I know you might be thinking, "Veganism, what's the deal with that, right?" But lemme tell ya, there are some pretty solid benefits to this whole plant-based lifestyle thing, and I ain't just talking about tofu and kale, alright?

First off, yo, let's talk about the environment, man. You know how we're all about cooking up some... stuff, and that can have a real nasty impact on the planet? Well, turns out, livestock farming ain't all sunshine and rainbows either. Animal agriculture, with all those cows and chickens and whatnot, it's a major contributor to greenhouse gas emissions. Like, seriously, it's messin' with the atmosphere big time. Going vegan can help cut down on these emissions, and that's like doing a solid for Mother Earth, yo.

But wait, there's more! Health, man. We all wanna feel good, right? Going vegan can actually lower your risk of all sorts of health problems. Heart disease? Yeah, that's a big one, and plant-based diets have been shown to reduce the risk of heart issues. Plus, you can kiss high blood pressure goodbye. And don't even get me started on cholesterol – that stuff can be a real buzzkill, but going vegan can help bring it down, like a science experiment gone right.

Now, I know you're probably thinking, "Yo Jesse, where's the protein at?" Well, let me drop some knowledge bombs on you. There's this myth that you can only get protein from animals, but that's straight-up bogus. Plants got protein too, man! Beans, lentils, quinoa – they're all packing the protein punch. And you know what's cool? Plant-based protein is often lower in saturated fat, which means your heart can chillax a bit.

And listen up, Mr. White, I ain't saying it's all about the science stuff. Going vegan, it's like making a statement, ya know? It's saying, "I care about animals and I ain't gonna support their suffering." Factory farms, man, they ain't exactly paradise for those critters. Going vegan is like standing up against that, like saying, "Nah, I ain't cool with that."

So, in a nutshell, veganism's got some real perks, science teacher. You're helpin' out the planet, boostin' your health game, and showing some love to our animal pals. It's like turning your chemistry lab into a better world lab, yo. And hey, I know it might be a bit of a change, just like when we had to cook without blue meth, but sometimes change is a good thing, right? So, maybe give veganism a shot, and who knows, you might just find a whole new way to live, bitch!

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #mr white #weve got to cook..... tofu!

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ledenews · 2 months

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#BigWheelingCreek #LewisWetzel #LewisWetzelCave #ohiocounty #UpperOhioValley #WestVirginia #wheeling

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nijiiropokemame · 1 year

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ok I’m already slowing down on my violet playthrough (I was slowing down after like 4 days) so I want to get my thoughts out now before more time passes.

Overall reaction: I really like this game.

I haven’t played every pokemon game, but this’s...my sixth core series? seventh if you count Arceus. And this game makes a case for counting Arceus, since that was the testing ground for a lot that went into SV.

The 3D areas in SWSH did make me come back to that game more than I would have expected, since I was just so-so on the main game. Then Legends: Arceus came along and blew all that out of the water. I loved the mechanics in Arceus. I loved initiating battles by throwing out a mon, I loved running for my goddamn life from a level 60 giant Stantler, and I especially loved being able to bean critters in the back of the head with pokeballs without having to engage them in battle.

Obvs SV didn’t have the battle-less catch mechanic, but Let’s Go mode is some of the most fun I’ve had with a pokemon game mechanic ever. I actually avoided the Team Star bases for a while bcs I thought it’d just be, y’know, take down the Team Rocket base version 9.0, but once I did and it forced me to use Let’s Go, the whole game really opened up for me. I’d been having a little more fun stopping my critical path to catch and breed some eevees, but nothing beat the first experience of starting at the top of the snowy mountain and bowling my ceruledge down the slope into oncoming hordes of ice-mon.

As much as I feel the sandwich making is a poor sequel to the curry making in SWSH, I think the picnic mechanic is a great evolution of the “spend time with your mon” screen. I was a little overwhelmed when I saw how many ingredients were available, and more so when I saw that they all had powers, but...it’s actually not that scary, and it’s still a more-fun-than-not minigame. I’ve had mixed success with egg power, but boy howdy when I wanted to farm sinisteas to get more armor to evolve more charcadets, the ghost-appearance power made a huge difference. The play ball mechanic is a good idea, I just wish my character could...y’know actually kick the ball. Instead of awkwardly clip through it and occasionally vaguely influence its direction. But it’s still so fun to see my trainer with their pokemon, I’m really happy with this direction.

So, as to new pokemon, this is the installment that made me realize something: when I first got back into Pokemon games in 2018, I was very much of the mind that animal- and plant-like pokemon were not just best, but sort of the point of the game. With this game I realized that I’ve completely turned around on that, and why. Pokemon have much more in common with the idea of like, yokai or spirits or similar mythic beings, except what if those but they’re everywhere all the time in plain sight. Some are deeply affiliated with nature, some are much more closely connected with mankind, which is why mon that look like manmade objects make sense. And, in the same vein, so do anthropomorphic mon.

All this is to say goddamn do I love armarouge and ceruledge. And tinkatuff (yeah I like tinkatuff more than tinkaton...but I still love my girl). And I don’t think I laughed at anything in the game harder than when my sprigatito evolved and was immediately bipedal, but then floragato ended up being another of my favorite new designs (its evolution not as much...that makes two mid-volutions that I like most, which is very unusual). But yeah the armored exclusives shot way up on my list of favs of all time, christ they are cool. I was immediately drawn to armarouge but I’m playing violet, and I didn’t really see the point of starting a scarlet playthrough until I’ve beaten this. I’m ready to challenge the league tho, so maybe I’ll do that and leave the end of the other two plots til the next game.

Yeah, so the diverging paths. They work pretty well! Limiting the usage of your -raidon til you hit a few early goals is pretty smart. I think challenging the gyms in any order worked out really well. The Team Star assault is a slog mostly because the cutscenes are unskippable, man do I not care about that plot, but again the base assault is really fun, and an old-fashioned battle at the end is not bad. The most fun is coming across a titan pokemon in the wild though; I wish cutscenes didn’t play as you approached, at least once I managed to glimpse one in the distance first and said out loud “what is that!?” (it the klawf if I recall), it really captured that Breath of the Wild “stumble upon a thing and then investigate it” feeling.

Oh yeah how could I have not yet talked about the bike. This game is obviously very slow, transitions to different modes like from overworld to battle take forever, and at a couple of points it completely glitched out and kicked me out. Fortunately enough things trigger saves that this wasn’t really a problem. So taking that into account, the fact that miraidon is an absolute joy to use is even more amazing. It handles so smooth, and skidding and changing directions is so cool. I just got the glide ability and I like how it’s implemented. It’s no paraglider from Breath of the Wild, but it still makes descent more seamless and fun. I do wish you could go faster, but I get there are limitations on how much they could design the world with a turbocharged player in mind. The faster you can go, the more they have to think about how much open space to let you have, and if all that open space will make it hard to get from one place to another if you don’t want to spend a bunch of time traversing it with your bike. Anyway this was a feature they obviously spent a lot of time on and it shows. Arceus had the one thing were you could seamless transition from land to water and back, but you still had to select climbing or flying (or...the bear. I never used the bear), and having one mon that just goes feels so much better.

Well, I guess that’s it! This right now ranks as my third favorite game, after my beloved Ultra Moon and then Arceus, both of which had stronger stories imo, and even if pokemon stories are simple I tend to prefer story-centric games. But after a rocky start to this game where it just seemed to be slow and glitchy, it really has a lot to offer by itself, and makes me very excited for new mainline pokemon games in a way I haven’t been in a while!

#catfishchat

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

Alliance

Chapter 3 - The Revelation

(Mando x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: After agreeing to help the Mandalorian, you land on Tatooine. Joined by an old friend the three of you locate a potential informant and a secret is revealed.

Notes: everytime I get a lil notification sayong someone has liked this post my heart gets so full so thank you all❤️❤️ I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Tw: Mentions of Alcohol/blood, Swearing

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

Word count: 3.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

R-16, Geonosis, Outer Rim Territories

Your POV

“Pretty swanky” you say, taking note of the Mandalorians newly acquired ship “who’d you steal this off of.”

He boards it stopping at the top when he realizes you hadn’t followed him up. “Are you coming? They’ll notice you’re missing soon. Your client didn’t look like the kind of guy to last a whole night.”

“How do I know you’re not going to sell me off again?” you ask, currently rethinking this whole situation.

“ If that’s what I was here to do that, you’d be handcuffed already”

“Really? Because if I remember correctly had it not been for your counterpart hitting me in the head last time, you’d have been on your way back empty handed.” He shakes his helmet evidently getting aggravated.

“Where is she by the way?” you ask.

“We don’t have time for this.” he interjects, walking back down and grabbing you by the arm. You shake free “I’m not going anywhere with you if you’re going to treat me like a prisoner.” A clatter from up above draws you attention away from the conversation at hand. “You sure the kid’s not just roaming around upstairs.”

“Wait here” he exhales, disappearing briefly before returning with an unmistakable bundle.

“Anya!” you exclaim under your breath, eyes lighting up. “Impossible” you whisper as the small creature wriggles out of Mandos' arms and rushes towards you. “How?” you ask looking up. “Answer me Mandalorian” .

“The child” he responds “he brought it back to life. What?” he asks, noticing your forehead wrinkle in confusion.

“Nothing, I just thought the only people that could do that were long gone.” Perhaps you owed this child more than just a thank you for saving Anya. If he was able to give life he too was able to wield the force, your grandmother would not be happy if you left a Jedi in the arms of the empire. Knowing this you climb onto the ship with Anya.

“They’ll be a bounty on me now.” You state, sitting down in the co-pilot seat.

“Welcome to the club,” he says, jumping the ship into hyperspace.

“Let’s get a few things straight. I now understand why you traded me, and why this child must be returned safely, but do not get me wrong, we are not friends, I do not forgive you and I definitely do not trust you. I am here to repay a debt. Once I have we go our separate ways, and I never have to see beskar ever again. Got it?” He nods shifting into auto-pilot. “Good. There a shower on this thing?” you ask, your smell becoming increasingly offensive.

“Downstairs to the right.” You drop down scoping out the ship, not too shabby. You hear a clang, turning around to face the Mandalorian.

“What?” you say, concerned he’d caught you snooping.

“Here” he says, handing you a set of clothes, “should fit.” You take them, but he doesn’t move, and he’s blocking the door to the shower.

“What are you waiting for? A kiss?” You ask as you push by him into the bathroom having flustered him enough to knock him off balance. Closing the door you breathe a sigh of relief, as you lock it behind you. You get into the shower letting the water hit your face and run slowly down your body. It’s not warm, but it’s better water pressure than you’ve had in months. Looking down you see a puddle of burgundy pooling at your feet, caused by the admixture of blood, makeup and various other fluids currently coating your body. You rinse the blood and guts out of your hair scrubbing at that which had been there long enough to crust over. You wince in pain when you brush up against an old scar that must have reopened in the fight earlier today, oh well, you think, it will heal. The various wounds on your body were proof of that. After about a month of being in the rings you stopped bruising, but scarring was still a part of day to day life. They covered the markings and tattoos scattered across what was once smooth skin. Turning off the water, you step out of the shower and dry off before pulling on the black pants and long sleeve provided to you. Walking back up to the cockpit and placing Anya onto the seat you lean over the dashboard.

“Where are we going.” you ask. No reply. “Hey beskar head I asked you a question.” You say not realizing he had been staring at you. He points at the tracker sitting on the dash. “On another hunt?”

“ This was on the guy who sold me and the kid out, started beeping again while you were showering.”

“You gonna give me my weapons back?” you inquire, unsure of what the plan was.

“Still downstairs, I couldn't sell them. No one wanted them” he says locking in the coordinates and beginning his landing.

“Well I guess I was wrong Mandalorians can’t tell jokes after all. Where are we by the way”

“Tatooine home of the moisture farmers, and not the nice part”

“Think they’d choose a wetter planet to farm moisture” you say, looking out at the planet's arid landscape through the windshield. The two of you exit the cockpit and head towards the armoury.

“Careful” he says, as you reach your hand in.

“I just spent several months in combat I think I’ll be fine” you say sarcastically. You reach into the armoury, quickly pulling your hand back when the security system zaps you. “Fuck” you say bringing your hand to your mouth, as he turns off the protection. “Shut up”

“I didn’t say anything”

“But you were thinking it. So same goes.” You remove a bow and arrow, quickly realizing they weren't your originals.

“Real ones were lost in the incident, picked these up on the way to get you” he says leaning forward and removing the Anbam sniper rifle and standard issue blaster.

Anya follows the two of you out of the ship burying her nose into the sand pulling out a large bone. The Mandalorian was a man of few words so you have no idea where you were going, or what the plan was, but you were happy for the peace. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in complete silence.

“Well, well, well.” A voice echoes. You draw your bow and the Mandalorian unholsters his blaster.

“Didn’t think you’d be back so soon and with someone so pretty.” the voice says as a figure of a tall man appears from behind a large sandstone.

“Cobb” the Mandalorian says, lowering his blaster

“Mando!” The older gentleman exclaims locking arms with the somewhat reluctant Mandalorian. You keep your bow aimed, as Anya approaches him sniffing his boots.

“And who might this be?” he asks looking at you while bending down to pet the critter.

“Ask her yourself.” Mando says, almost annoyed. Cobb was handsome, more so than most which makes you almost immediately untrusting of him. Anya seems to have taken a liking to him though so you drop the hostility for now. You lower your weapon and take his extended hand. “Cobb Vanth, i'm the marshal round these parts, Nice to meet you” he says

“y/n, and likewise” you respond, pulling your hand back.

“Where’s the kid?” Vanth asks and you see the Mandalorians' demeanor change guilt radiating off him.

“He’s gone, we're trying to find him. She’s a tracker” he says, pointing to you.

You look over at the Mandalorian, how did he know that? The two men walk in front of you, discussing the events that had unfolded a few days prior. As you make your way into the town you find yourself relaxing slightly. None of the locals looked like the kind to recognize you.

“Glad to see things have picked up since I was last here.”

“Well Mando, turns out less giant snakes makes for happier people.” Cobb says

“Funny how that works”

“C’mon, you look hungry and like you need a few drinks,” the Marshal says with a smile. “Might just run into your bounty if we’re lucky.” He throws two fingers up at the bartender, as you enter, leads you to a nearby empty booth. You thank the bartender as he brings out the food and drink.

“So who are we looking for.” The Marshal asks

“Ugly guy” Mando starts

“Well that narrows it down” you mutter earning a chuckle from the Marshal. Before he can continue describing the guy, the tracker starts to beep more consistently.

“Must be your lucky day” the marshal says coolly as an Aqualish enters into the establishment, tusks and all.

“Put your hood up” you say to the Mandalorian “he’ll recognize the armour, switch seats with me.” He obliges, pulling up the hood of his cloak as you shift over top of him so his back is now facing the door and you're sat between him and the Marshal.

“Alright looks like we’re in need of a plan” Cobb says.

“Give me 20 minutes with it, I’ll get the information” you say standing up.

“No way. Not happening. If this falls through you’re our only shot at finding the kid.” The Mandalorian says tugging you down by the back of your shirt, much to your dismay.

“Well there's always option B.” you say, pausing for a moment “you get up and he runs a mile then we're really gonna be screwed.” Seemingly having convinced the Mandalorian you were capable of getting the information needed, he agrees.

“Fine. 20 minutes, then we're coming after you.” He says. You stand up passing by the marshal and make your way over to the bar.

Mandos POV

He watches you head over, scanning the crowd for any potential threats. Even cloaked you stood out, and the odds of someone recognizing an ex-gladiator was high, especially one as successful as you. He tenses up when a Nikto approaches you. His hand subtly moves to the blaster, but not so subtly that it didn’t catch the marshals attention.

“You should relax Mando, it seems like she’s got it under control.” he says, nodding his head in your direction . He turns seeing you utter a few words to the Nikto causing it to continue on seemingly in a trance. His hand eases off the blaster and he relaxes back into his seat.

“Awfully protective” Cobb says, the Mandalorian ignores this comment, of course he was being protective, he needed you to find the child. He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a glass being dropped off at the table. Cobb throws his hand up nodding to you in thanks, the target had been acquired.

“So, where’d ya find her?” he asks, taking a sip of the drink.

“Long story.”

“Well we have twenty minutes.”

“Traded her for the child a while back she was fighting in a gladiatorial ring until about 25 hours ago.” He says as Anya settles down on the Marshal lap.

“This is quite the creature.”

“The kid saved it.”

“So that’s why she’s hanging around with your homely helmeted ass. Seriously, she looks like a fallen star.” Cobb pauses looking to his friend “Ahhh, but you’ve already noticed.” With no response the Marshal continues “Well if there’s nothing there then I’m in luck.” The helmet turns ,“A joke Mando, a joke.” The Marshal says lifting his hands up. Before he can respond the Mandalorian feels something bump against his shoulder causing him to look up just in time to see you pass by with the target in pursuit. As he watches him exit the bar he catches a glint of a small sphere, a bomb.

“dank farrik” he says, standing up and moving through the bar in pursuit.

“What happened to twenty minutes?” the Marshal shouts after him.

Your POV.

“Thanks for the drink sweetheart” the Aqualish says as you turn around, this was not your first time dealing with one, but you did hope it would be your last.

“If you’re looking to repay the favour you may be able to help me find something, I believe you’ve come across. A child. Small, green, big ears.”

The Aqualish laughs reaching its hand back for the bomb. Using the force you stay his hand a few inches away from the weapon.

“Answer me, before my patience wears thin.” You say. Patience, already wearing thin.

“Look lady I was hoping for some fun, let me go and no one has to get hurt.”

“You’re not in much of a potion to be negotiating.” You say. The unmistakable sound of a blaster going off suddenly echoes and you feel something cold and wet hit your face. You look up as the Aqualish drops to the floor standing behind him you see the Mandalorian.

“Seriously!” You say angrily, wiping the residue out of your face.

“It had a bomb.”

“I know I had it under control. Clean this up you say” pushing past him.

“Why do I…” he starts,

“Because…” you say turning on your heel to face him, “if we had done things my way there wouldn’t have been a mess to clean up at all.” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air, before returning to the bar.

You slump down in the booth next to the Marshal.

“How long did you put up with him for before you lost it?”

“Went well I take it.” He says offering you the remainder of his drink.

“Could have, if someone had just showed a modicum of trust.” You say taking a swig of the blue liquid.

“Seems like he trusts easy. He trusts you enough to ask for your help.”

“He doesn't trust me he needs my help, there's a distinct difference.” You say downing the rest of the drink causing Cobb to raise his eyebrows slightly opting to change the course of the conversation.

“Well I have to say you are just about the prettiest thing to show up here.” You roll your eyes, it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Despite this you find yourself smiling Cobb was quite charming after all.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her, she doesn’t usually take to strangers.” You say moving in to scratch behind Anya’s ears.

“Got a way with all living things, though I find humans easier than animals.” He laughs.

“Well I’m sure that has something to do with your charm and face” you say. He’s about to respond when you both see a flash of armour leave the bar.

“Guess we’re leaving” He says offering you a hand, you take it and exit in pursuit of the Mandalorian.

“Mando!” the Marshal calls after him.

“Don’t leave on my account. I’ll be on the ship. If you’re not back by morning I'll find the child on my own.” he says continuing on his way.

“Oh don’t be jealous Mando we were just talking.” Cobb, says not making the situation any better.

Assuming you couldn’t piss him off anymore than he already was you pick up a stray rock and throw it at him. It hits the back of the helmet causing him to stop and turn around.

“Nice shot” the Cobb whispers to you looking impressed.

“Thanks” you say walking over to the Mandalorian.

“You okay Mandalorian?” you ask

“We should be looking for the kid not relaxing in a bar.”

“You’re not the only one who owes this child something, and don’t act like this wasn’t the first moment of freedom I’ve enjoyed in months.” with no reply you continue “What now? You killed our last lead.”

“I don’t know that’s why you’re here to figure it out.” He says sharply, the two of you now staring each other down.

“Well that’s my cue, Mando, always a pleasure, (y/n) lovely to meet you, if you’re ever looking for work I’m always in need of a deputy.” Cobb says, patting Anya on the head and heading off back towards town. You interrupt your glaring contest and wave goodbye to the Marshal. Having calmed down slightly, you turn back to the Mandalorian.

“Do you have something of his?”

“What?” the voice asks, even with the modulator you could tell he was frustrated.

“Of the child’s anything belonging to him?” you say suddenly feeling equally as irritated.

“It all went up…wait.” he says reaching into his pocket pulling something small and silver out.

“A toy of his” He says. You stick your hand out and he drops the small silver ball into your hand. As it makes contact with your skin you feel the emotion enveloping it. He cares greatly for this child, perhaps you had misjudged the Mandalorian. With this in mind you begin to gather stray stones placing them in a pattern on the ground using a nearby stick to trace lines in the sand.

“Are you going to summon him or something?” He asks.

“Not a witch.” you reply unsure if he’s joking or not.

You close your eyes, breathing deeply. The Mandalorian watches in awe as the rocks and sand begin to rise recreating a map of the galaxy. You open your eyes and walk over to Anya, bending down, you offer her the small metal ball which she sniffs. She begins circling the base of the galaxy stopping on the outer rim. Pulling more rocks forward you create a series of steps which Anya begins to ascend, sniffing the planets in front of her. She stops, sitting down so as to indicate she had located the scent.

“You know where that is?” you ask, looking up at the T visor which was still fixed on the map you had created. He hadn’t said anything in a while not that he ever really did, but you’d asked a question and needed an answer.

“Anyone home” you say, lifting your hand to knock on the helmet. He grabs your wrist before you can.

“No, I don’t, but I can get us there.” He says, gently releasing you. You drop the map to the floor leaving a small cloud of dust in its wake as you re-enter the ship.

“I hope you appreciate the delicacy of what I just did and the possible danger I’ve put us in.” You say, taking your seat, hoping you had made the correct choice in trusting him.

“How long have you known? That you have powers?” He asks, you smile at his choice of words.

“Since I was a child. My grandmother trained me in the way of the Jedi until she passed.”

“I’m sorry.” He says as he takes off.

“For what? you didn’t kill her.” After a prolonged period of silence you speak again. “I trust you’ll keep this between us, man of few words and all if it was to get out I'd take it very personally.” Taking his silence as understanding you breath a sign of relief. Leaning back you settle in for the upcoming journey.

#the mandolarian #mando x you #mando x reader #din dijarin x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #star wars #alliance #chapter 3

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maribabyart · 4 years

Note

Do you have any Demon Martha headcanons? How do you think her reunion with Mrs. Mayberry (The teacher who paid for her assassination) in hell would go?

OK YES I HAVE HEADCANONS FOR THIS HERE WE GO --

MARTHA HEADCANONS <3

So, I’m gonna start with her before she died so I can fully get into why every part of her is the way she is as a demon.

Martha is light skinned Latina woman with family coming from Venezuela. Her mother has a much darker skin tone than her, but her father is far more light-skinned, where she gets her complexion from. While she was raised in America, her parents were immigrants. She was born at home, and she didn’t get a birth certificate until she was four, the year before she started schooling.

She has three older brothers. They were very rambunctious with Martha as a child, pulling pranks on her/with her, taking her hunting, etc.

She was raised out on a farm in the middle of a forested area in Kentucky. They raised cattle, sheep, chickens, and horses. Martha’s main job on the farm was to groom/ride horses and feed chickens.

She learned her sharp-shooter skills in a more intense version of something like 4H unique to her area. She was fantastic with a bow and arrow, and even better with her firearms.

Cannibalism was normalized in Martha’s life from a young age. She knew that it must be kept secret from the outside world, and that it wasn’t accepted. However, it wasn’t something she found to be horrid.

Her family -- and their close friends -- came from a long lineage of Satanic cultists that practiced cannibalism to purge any bit of, “soul” remaining in the corpses of their sacrifices. Due to this, Martha had evolved to be able to be immune to the ill side effects of cannibalism, along with the ability to not feel repulsed by the idea of eating human meat.

Her favorite part of the body growing up was the brain, and it still is to this day. She loves the frontal lobe slathered in spices and hot sauce.

She began her cultish killings at age fourteen, when she officially joined the cult of her family’s descent -- Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida (Fellowship of the Forbidden Fruit, a refrence to their following of Lucifer)

Martha didn’t love Raphael Peterson, or, “Ralphie”. She was married of to him at age sixteen, when she became a, “Woman” in the cult’s eyes. They were both meant to appear as an ideal couple so that people wouldn’t suspect them, as their parents before them have.

Ralph and Martha always saw each other as friends with benefits.

They moved to Dayton, Tennessee to start their family when they turned eighteen.

In Nashville, Martha started singing to music her husband played in Taverns. Think Dolly Parton style music. She sounded a lot like that.

Their first child was born when Martha was eighteen: Their daughter, Jolene Peterson. Two years later, they had their son, Beau Peterson.

Martha was always really involved with her kids’ school activities, and she was always volunteering to work events, and her kids were in every activity they could be.

She used her physical attractiveness to seduce and kill men.

While sex favorable, Martha is on the aspec -- greysexual (sexual pleasure is irrelevant to her, and she only engages in it to appease her partner generally. She only finds sexual attraction in people while in the act.) Because of this fact, Martha only has affairs for the sake of gaining trust to bring the men home so they can be killed and eaten.

When Martha was shot, the community villainized Mrs. Mayberry because the town darling, Martha Jane Nunez Robles-Peterson, would NEVER cheat, right? The situation was misread: Martha was just talking to Jarold Mayberry that night about t-ball-related things, right? He WAS the the little league captain for her 6-year-old-son’s league, wasn’t he?

Martha was gifted millions by the community, and people were insanely supportive of her. They wanted the sweet Martha they, “knew” to get better soon. They loved her so -- such a darling woman!

Her music became more well known, and soon, Martha was all over TV. Her big musical break came from when she auditioned for American Idol and made it. Her sob-story propelled her, and she eventually won.

Martha was a hero to everyone around her -- surviving a traumatic event that was uncalled for, while also being so damn chipper and kind.

Hell, did you guys see the background in one of those scenes?! Martha was canonly proclaimed a SAINT! People loved her that much.

She used the public trust to lure in more victims and never be suspected.

Martha was 28 when she died. Ralphie was 28 as well. Jolene was 10, and Beau was 8.

Ralphie managed to survive the explosion, albeit he was completely paralyzed, and the two children went to heaven. Ralphie repented during his last month alive, and confessed to his crimes. He was sent to heaven as well.

Martha and the children were declared to have died in a bear attack, as Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida covered up their true demise with ease.

People were heart broken -- Martha’s music was used in sad collages on Youtube, Tik Toks had Martha’s face in them for memorials.

No one ever realized her crimes.

Now! As a demon....

In hell, Martha picked up the alias Hero -- it’s what she was in life, right? I’ll be calling her Hero from now on.

Hero is both different and similar to how she was when she was alive. She’s still the got her kind-hearted, southern mama vibe going for her: She tends to be able to fit into any demonic crowd well, either by attractiveness or by sheer, overwhelming allure -- she’s a very magnetic personality.

As far as powers go, Hero’s are mostly related to firearms. She’s acquired these powers through deal making and soul dealing, as most demons do. Her charming aura very quickly lure people into thinking she’s naive or really just being honest with them.

Her nails can peel back to allow her to shoot from, “finger guns”. Each finger is a different gun, besides her middle and index fingers. They are both shotguns. Together, they make a double barrel shotgun.

When in full demonic form, Hero’s bandages become sentient. They peel away from her wound, revealing a minigun like weapon in the hole in her head. This can rapid fire while the bandages can grab onto things or hoist Hero up. She can make this last for five minutes -- ten at the longest -- before she gives out to sheer exhaustion and needs to eat demon meat to replenish herself.

Within her first week in hell, she was known to be powerful. Not quite an overlord, but powerful enough to hang around overlords.��

She hit overlord status three months later, during the terf war seen in Hazbin Hotel’s pilot: She took several areas of land, and was seen to have several lesser demons flocking to be on her good side.

Hero used her land to build up a bar and grill that serves strictly demon meat and blood, where demons can play music and dance. It’s like a fucked up country dinner. It’s an insanely popular addition to Cannibal Colony, where she lives.

The place is called La Cocina de la Calle Kuru (The Kuru Street Kitchen)

Hero REALLY wants to get her hands on exterminator tools, but she’s not really a fan of black market deals -- it’s too “trashy” for her.

Hero knows Alastor pretty well, as he’s came in for meat and to watch the music. They’ve had pretty decent conversations while she was on break, seeing as they were both influential southern, cannibalistic serial killers. It’s a running gag between them where they jokingly talk about who was more iconic -- “I bet I took out more belles in a lifetime than you could in your entire afterlife!” “Well hon, at least I could eat the brains without gettin’ Kuru!”

She talks to Rosie a lot about business, and has met Niffty and Mimzy before. (Al hooked a bitch up with some friends lmao)

She REALLY likes Mimzy. She reminds her of Ralphie, and they became super fast friends.

Vox and Hero have a confusing sort of friendship, as neither really wants to be seen with the other -- In his case, because she’s much lower on the overlord spectrum than him, and in her case, because she’s no stranger to Alastor and Vox’s hatred for one another. However, she often finds herself consoling Vox on sleepless nights after closing up the bar, trying to convince him that Valentino is NOT worth his time. Beyond that and him occasionally paying her back in tech at random hours of the morning, they don’t talk often.

Hero LOVES dancing! Like, a lot.

She’s seen Charlie’s ad for the Happy Hotel. Her and Mimzy watched it, and they both thought it was the stupidest damn thing they’d ever seen. However, Hero said she was happy Charlie got up there, because she was just, “Cute as a button, that lil’ sweatpea was!”

Hero’s best friends are Mimzy and an unnamed demon who specializes in black market, extermination tool selling (the one seen in in Addict -- Cherri Bomb’s former lover).

These two people, and these two people alone, can call her “Martha”

Hero cooks whenever she’s stressed. She also adores sewing and binging soap operas and reality shows on Voxflix.

Hero’s Instagram would be, “HeroicMelodies” in reference to her music career and name.

Hero gets hit on A LOT, and she despises it. She doesn’t need to seduce people anymore to get away with murder, and she doesn’t want to. She dresses the way she does because she LIKES that clothing. People can fuck off.

The reason Hero is white and pink is to show how innocent she looks. Her pitch-black eyes show her dark soul.

Hero sings in Spanish to herself when cleaning up.

Sometimes, Hero and Rosie spend holidays going around with ground demon meat to throw to the hell crows and other critters. They find it peaceful.

Hero, shockingly, holds no hatred for I.M.P., and commonly jokes about how the I.M.P.’s, “Did her a favor” by sending her somewhere she can actually be her. She has no idea who called for the hit, though.

Hero finds Blitzo’s Instagram posts being poorly spelled to be, “Damn near precious”.

She thinks he’s a teenager, and probably would think it less adorable if she knew he was a grown man with a grown kid.

Hero doesn’t care about Mrs. Mayberry at all. Like, at all. She honestly assumes the woman is in heaven. She knew Mayberry wasn’t bad -- she probably wouldn’t care if she was in hell, though. Oh well. Sucks to suck, bitch.

Husk frequents La Cocina de la Calle Kuru to drink and engage in the gambling scene. Hero finds him trashy, but can’t say she hates him. She finds him funny as hell, and enjoys the business. Just not someone she’d personally hang out with.

#Helluva Boss #Hazbin Hotel #Martha #Demon! Martha #Hero #Alastor #Vox #Rosie #Husk #Niffty #Mimzy #Headcanons #Head canons #AU #Sort off?#Hell #Mrs. Mayberry #Ralphie #Murder Family

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years

Text

Tick-Tock, Hook’s Afraid of an Ordinary Clock! || Spencer Reid

Requested: YES/NO: gender neutral please! So my request. Y/n has been working at the BAU for a while, and never ever had feelings for Spencer but more for Derek. One night is spent at a hotel and Spencer gets wasted as all hell which the team found unusual. That’s really all! Do with that what you will! Smut is fine too! You can add your own personal touches if you wish. Also would love some fighting between Spencer and y/n

Gender: none, they/them.

Warnings: insults, alcohol, normal CM case talk, verbal fight dialogue taken from Hook (1991), crap music talk.

----

“Eat your heart out, you crinkled, wrinkled fat bag,” you mumbled under your breath as Spencer finished his rambling of some unknown subject. Spencer stiffened at your insult, as did the rest of the team. You had just gotten back from a pretty bad case involving a team of family annihilators and where sitting in the nearest bar; throughout the whole case Spencer had almost made it his mission to speak over you, correct you, flick things at you, ‘forget’ you’re there, bump into you and more. God it was so annoying, and now? Now you've had enough.

“That was very ill-mannered-” Spencer started.

“And you're a slug-eating worm,” you said with a little more force matter-of-factly, cutting off whatever it was Spencer was going to say.

“You can do better than that pretty boy!” Derek said quickly with a grin as he nudged Spencer; you almost pounced on that man for taking Spencer's side rather than yours; Derek had always taken your side.

“You're encouraging this?” Spencer questioned quickly.

“Show me your fastball, dust brain!” you started again, “you paunchy, sag-bottomed puke pot!” Spencer's eyes widened three times the size they normally would be as the rest of your table sat quiet and watched.

“Damn!” Emily said under her breath with a grin as her eyes darted between the two of you; it was like watching tennis.

“You're a very poor role model for your team, you know that right?” Spencer shook his as he took a mouthful of his drink before a sly grin overtook his face, “I bet you don't even have a fourth-grade reading level,” a few of your teammates let out a little blow of air.

“Hemorrhoidal sucknavel” you said quickly.

“Maybe a fifth-grade reading level.” Spencer said even quicker.

“Oil-dripping, beef-fart-sniffing bubble butt” you started to really get into it, leaning over the table a little with a smirk.

“Aye there we go (Y/n)!” Derek said quickly, now he was on your side? You looked to Hotch who was smiling thinking that maybe you had another on your side.

“Someone has a severe caca mouth, you know that?” Spencer cut off your gaze with his words, as if he was bored.

“You’re a fart factory. A slug-slime sack of rat guts and cat vomit, a cheesy scab picked pimple-squeezing finger bandage!” snickering came over the table; but you weren't done yet oh no, “a week-old maggot burger with everything on it and flies on the side!” you grinned; many many words in that one insult. Spencer went to open his mouth but you cut him off, “you’re really just a substitute chemistry teacher” you winked.

“Come on Spence, hit (Y/n) back!” J.J. quickly intervened.

“Mung tongue” Spencer fired.

“Math tutor,”

“Pinhead,”

“Mother lover,” that one was a low blow on your end but you couldn't help yourself.

“Nearsighted gynecologist,” ouch Spence, Hotch snorted at that one.

“In your face, camelcake!” you shot back.

“In your rear, cow derrière!” of course Spencer came back even faster.

“Lying, crying, spying, prying ultra-pig!” Emily snickered at yours.

“Lewd, crude bag of pre-chewed food!” Derek snickered at Spencers.

“Guys maybe settle down…” Hotch said softly, this was starting to get a little out of hand.

“You man! Stupid, stupid man!” That was all you could give back as your mind turned blank, forgetting every word in the dictionary.

“If I'm a maggot burger, why don't you just eat me?” Spencer shot back, “you zebra-headed, slime-coated, pimple-farming, paramecium brain, munching on your own mucus, suffering from Spencer Reid envy!” laughter ensued as your face contorted to confusion.

“What the hell is a ‘paramecium’?” your voice held the question as Spencer pointed to you.

“I'll tell you what a paramecium is! You’re a paramecium!” everyone on your table stared at Spencer as he elaborated; “It's a one-celled critter with no brain that can't think!” and with that, your table cheered for Spencer as you sat sulking.

“Oh come on (Y/n), you should have known you would lose,” Derek said with a grin before following Spencer to the bar.

“He's drinking a lot tonight isn't he?” Emily questioned.

“Who, Derek?” J.J. guessed with a furrowed brow.

“No! Spencer!” Emily quickly concluded.

“He was a little harsh on (Y/n)” Hotch cut in quickly, “I’m just glad Dave and Garcia weren’t here to witness that,” you slammed your drink on the table and sent a glare to the three left at the table.

“I'm going home, i'll see everyone on monday,” you grumbled out before stalking off, your shoes made loud thunking sounds as they hit the wood flooring, your anger getting the best of you as you passed Spencer and Derek.

“Yo (Y/n) you getting a drink too?” Derek was about to order your normal drink until you slapped both Spencer and Derek on the back of the head.

“OW! What the hell-!” Spencer's back was to you but as he turned and saw you his anger melted into elation, “come back for round 2 (Y/n)?” Spencer questioned, the poor boy tried to act cool and lean against the bar but missed entirely and almost fell onto a rather burly looking gentleman. You huffed slightly as you turned to Derek.

“Make sure the substitute chem teacher gets home safe,” and with that you threw open the bar doors and walked your way home, it was only a block and you had gotten a ride with Emily anyway.

When you finally slumped home, chucked off your shoes and threw yourself onto your mattress you couldn't help but make yourself angrier with the new insults suddenly bubbling in your head.

“Who does that piss brain even think he is,” you mumbled into the air, “paramecium my ass…” you continued your grumbling into the atmosphere as you twisted and turned on the mattress before sleep finally engulfed you.

------

The work week started up again and before you knew it yourself and the team where needed in New Orleans because of a new range of sudden murders.

“Lets review please,” Hotch mumbled.

“The bodies cross gender and racial lines” Rossi started.

“The throat is slit with something very sharp but also clean, I get a funny feeling it isnt a kitchen knife though,” you mumbled as you looked at the photos closer trying to get a good angle on a printed piece of paper.

“Butcher?” Derek questioned, you shrugged.

“Could these be blitz attacks?” you heard Spencer scoff at your suggestion.

“If this was a blitz attack there would be remorse and blunt force trauma somewhere on the head,” Spencer said looking directly at you.

“Oh, i'm so sorry Doctor i didn't know my input was unwanted, let me just keep my thoughts to myself,”

“Guys,” J.J. sighed, “Garcia is going through the victims lives that we have already, I can talk to the family and see if there are any enemies?” Hotch nodded.

“Derek, I want you to join J.J. with the families. Rossi, Emily go to the M.E. together and have a look over the bodies and tox screens. (L/n), Reid and I will go to the police station and start on a geographical and victim board,” everyone nodded in agreement to what Hotch said. Except for Spencer. He just stared at you with dangerous eyes. You rolled yours in return before putting your headphones into your phone and playing music to drown out Spencer's overbearingly loud thoughts.

“Okay my lovelies, these first three victims all had the same job at the same court; they’re all a part of a Jury audience” Garcia explained as her fingers tapped on her keyboard through the phone.

“Maybe someone just got out of prison that was wrongly convicted and wanting revenge?” you questioned.

“Maybe, it would have to be something pretty big for them to come back,” Derek said, you nodded in agreement, “baby girl can you see if there are any people that may have been convicted by a jury with our victims in it?”

“Sure can sugar, PG out” the phone clicked off.

“Did you find anything from the M.E.?” Hotch turned to Rossi and Emily as he spoke.

“The pathologist said it was a clean cut without hesitation marks or remorse,” Rossi said.

“No drugs, no blunt force trauma,” Emily shrugged as she talked, “it wasn't a blitz.”

“Maybe planned?” you butted in.

“That’s what it seems like,” Hotch said, “Reid? Have you got anything? J.J.?” Hotch questioned as he looked to the respective people.

“The victims were killed in different areas but its places they frequented; house, bar, bar” Spencer started, “they’re all over the place is all, completely different areas,”

“Yeah, and the families weren’t much help either. One of the victims' families, uh, Emil Gosten? His family said they didn't want anything to do with the investigation because he's had previous death threats and calls and stuff,” J.J. shrugged as the room went quiet.

“Reid, (L/n) I know you two dont like each other but I need two of my sharpest minds to go back to the crime scenes,” Hotch sighed, you groaned but complied as you stalked off with Reid following shortly behind.

“Everything looks the exact same as it was left,” you sighed out as you placed a blanket back down on the couch. Spencer scanned the books on the shelf before pulling one out and starting to read it; completely ignoring you.

“Reid,” nothing.

“Reid.” again, nothing.

“Spencer,” nope.

“SPENCE”

“What!” he finally turned to you and answered.

“You couldn't give me some complacency and at least answer me when i talk to you?” you asked annoyed.

“Why would i?” Spencer asked with a bored tone as he placed the book back on the shelf, except he finally talked to you, “The victim is atheist, believes in the justice system…” he sighed and shrugged, “did Hotch just put us together to fuck with us?”

“Maybe,” you flopped onto the couch with a sigh as you rest your head on the backrest. That was until something caught your eye, “Oi genius!” you called out, Spencer came to your side as you pointed to the roof; there, above your heads was a piece of paper taped to the ceiling, “you’re taller than me,” you said quickly as you got up and started moving the couch.

“Woah what- what’re you doing?” Spencer jumped back slightly as you pushed the couch backwards.

“Well we’re going to push this back and then put a chair down for you to stand on so you can reach that note because it can possibly help us get to the unsub,”

“What why me?” Spencer questioned as he helped you push the couch back.

“You’re taller than me and have longer arms,” you walked over to the dining table and came back with a chair, Spencer was reluctant at first but eventually stood on the chair and plucked down the taped note; letting out a breath as he finally stood on the ground again. You plucked the note from Spencer's hand and opened it.

“A music note?” Spencer mumbled.

“Something like that,” you mumbled back, “see it's in the second to bottom gap,” you pointed to the gap to show where it was, as if Spencer couldn't see it already, “um, it would sound something like...um, dmm” you vibrate your voice a little to help Spencer understand, he nodded, “the only problem is there isn’t any clef; normally with music you have a treble clef, alto clef or bass clef. They basically determine what instrument can be played and how the notes are determined” Spencer looked genuinely interested while you explained your thinking, “this...its a singular note, maybe there’s more around?” you looked around the room and tried to desifre if there were any opened drawers or cupboards.

“Maybe there’s another one at the other location?” Spencer questioned, you grinned.

“It might be the unsubs calling card; ‘hey, this is my kill’ type thing!” and with that, you made a break in the case.

Spencer called the rest of the team about the break as Hotch allowed the two of you to go to the other victims houses and search for more music notes; low and behold you now had 3 music notes placed under the corresponding victim heads.

“You keep staring at that board as if it's going to give you answers,” Derek said with a grin as he walked into the room; the rest of the team had been called out to another dead body.

“Hmm? Oh I just…” you shrugged, “i just get this feeling about the notes; they have to sound something but we just don't know what yet” before Derek could answer you the shrill of the phone went off.

“(Y/n)?” it was Spencer on loudspeaker; he never called you by your first name.

“Yeah what's up Reid?” you called back.

“We found another note; the round part is under the last line with the stem going up to the second line at the top,” you nodded in response (not that Spencer could see you) as you drew the note on a piece of paper with a sharpener and placed it on the victim board.

“Anything else? A clef at all anywhere?” you asked.

“Um i'm not- i don't think so?” it sounded like Spencer was shuffling around a few things to get a better look, “we have another piece of paper!” Spencer called out, moments later you got a photo on your phone. Sure enough there was a treble clef.

“Spence get everyone back here; i know what the notes mean”

“Our unsub is using something called the Dies Irae,” you played the first few notes on your phone over youtube, “you've all heard this song over time just not exactly in an orchestra setting; Star Wars, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, Sweeney Todd, The Shining, The Exorcist and many many more,” you played a few other videos of the notes from a few of the movies as everyone nodded.

“I can hear it,” J.J. mumbled.

“Same,” that was Emily.

“Right, so...it was originally used with catholic’s; they used the music in their Requiem services-”

“Requiem services are basically putting the dead to rest,” Spencer cut in quickly so the team could understand.

“Yeah, it's basically a song for the dead to stay dead in a way? I think our unsub is using the Sweeney Todd method; killing his victims with a razor. One slice across the neck while in a private area except this dude isn't a cannibal” you grinned at the remembrance of the film.

“Cannibal?” Derek and Emily questioned.

“In the movie Sweeney Todd is a barber, he comes back for revenge on the man who stole his wife and child and kills people in his barber shop which is also above a pie shop owned by a woman named Mrs Lovett; when Sweeney starts killing they come together in order to bring customers back to Mrs Lovett's pie shop. Because it's set in 1785 meat was expensive so instead they used the dead people as meat to sell to customers” you realised how long winded that explanation was and apologized, “sorry that was..i think our unsub is a barber” was your final statement. Hotch nodded and moved to press a button on the phone in the middle of the table, but the phone started ringing instead.

“Garcia?”

“I think i found our unsub; Chris Gevette, he filed for divorce after he gave evidence of spousal abuse but it seems like his wife had every piece of evidence that would be able to put him in jail rather than her so everything was blamed on him for the abuse and the jury ruled him unable to keep any stable relationship”

“Garcia do you have a work and home address?”

“Sent to your phones now; barber shop and home” the phone clicked off.

“(Y/n) i want you to go to the barber shop with Reid and Derek. Emily, J.J. and I will go to the house; Rossi stays here in case anything else happens.” and with that you all ran to the SUV’s.

-----

“CHRIS GEVETTE FBI!” Derek shouted through the door, your guns were drawn and ready for action as Derek kicked the door in. You moved swiftly through the shop, finding nothing but dust.

“Guys!” you were now out the back as your partners came running, “it's exactly like Sweeney Todd,” you motioned to the stairs in front of you before looking behind you, “there's stars that lead down as well; there may be bodies in there like the movie too, you go down there and i'll go up.”

“(Y/n) let me come with you,” that was Spencer, he looked genuinely concerned.

“I've got this Spence. Go” you started your ascent up the wooden stairs while trying to stay as quiet as you possibly could, “CHRIS GEVETTE,” you called out to the door once you got to it, you could hear the bustle of footsteps and made the split decision. The door was kicked in by you as you pointed your gun to Chris who was now holding a razor to a woman's neck.

“Get away!” Chris screamed, he was frantic; trembling and crying.

“Chris! Chris it's okay, i'm a good guy, okay?” you slowly let go of your gun, “im holstering my gun, okay?” you said as you're-holstered your gun, “Chris i know about the divorce-”

“No you dont!” Chris called, the woman under the razor trembled as the razor cut into her neck slightly.

“I do! Chris, I know you were abused! I know it wasn't you that did the abusing! If you let her go we can help you get custody and instead send that bitch to jail,” Chris looked almost relieved to hear that, he contemplated that for a moment before slowly letting the woman go. She ran over to you as Derek and Spencer finally came up the stairs and started handcuffing Chris.

“We’ve got two other bodies in the basement,” Spencer said to you while you held the trembling woman, “there's medic on the way now,” you nodded in affirmation before starting to help the women calm down and walk down the stairs.

------

The jet finally landed back at the bureau as the rest of your team started packing their things from their desks.

“Um (Y/n)” a voice called, you smiled as you looked up to see the person you least expected.

“Spence?” you questioned; your eyes darted around and couldn't see any other team member in sight, “everyone left already. Sorry. I've been in my own little world,” you gave a tight smile as you continued packing some extra files into your bag.

“It-it’s just me, but um, I just wanted to congratulate you on your break in the case,” the comment from Spencer's timid and small voice caught you off guard so much that you froze for a moment as you stared at him. It all seemed to go quiet, and slow; the clock on the wall seemed to tick at an atrociously slow pace.

Tick…

“(Y/n)?”

Tock…

“Hmm?”

“I uh, i was-”

“Oh, yeah um-”

Pause.

Quiet.

“Thank you,” smile.

Tick…

“I was...was wondering, (Y/n)...”

Tock…

“Yeah Spence?”

“Would you...would you like to go...on a date...with...me?”

Pause.

Quiet.

“With you?”

“Well, I did...I did say ‘me’ I hope- just, just forget it�� and the world went back to normal as Spence started walking away.

“No Spence, wait!” you grabbed your things and quickly darted off after him; plunging your arm between the elevator doors and stepping in quickly before they shut behind you.

“Just forget it (Y/n); forget i ever asked and we can just go back to-”

“I would love to go on a date with you”

Tick…

“Really?”

“So long as you don't call me a paramecium again”

Tock…

“I won't; as long as you don't call me a substitute chemistry teacher”

Pause.

Quiet.

“I won't”

“Then it's settled.

Tick…

“Message me?”

“Of course”

Tock…

Smile.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #Derek morgan #penelopie garcia #Penelope Garcia #garcia #Emily prentiss #Aaron hotchner #David rossi #J.J.#Spencer reid x reader #Reid x reader #Spencer reid x gn!reader #Spencer reid x gender neutral reader #x reader

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fic-al · 3 years

Text

Oops hadn’t realized I didn’t post the final chapter on here previously.

Easter Bernie: Easter Sunday.

Here's someone who really loves you. Don't ever go away.That's what these walls would say. (If These Old Walls Could Speak, Jimmy Webb)

“Right over left, round and then through,” Fred repeated again, as he secured Reggie’s tie. “You will get the hang of it, son, easy when you knows how.”

“Thanks Uncle Fred,” Reggie was determined, he would master the tricky accessory by the end of the day. It couldn’t be more of a skill then changing a beer barrel, and he could do that.

“Oh, look at you two, all suited and booted, don’t you look smart,” Violet emerged from the Crown kitchen, wearing the dress and coat she had worn for Chummy’s wedding.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Violet,” beamed a perfectly groomed Val in a coral trouser suit and cream silken vest top.

“Who has one of those phone things, that takes a picture?” Evie asked, smoothing down a new floral dress she had treated herself to.

“Everyone Evie,” Val laughed, “Except you and Paddy.”

“Must be a pub thing,” added Jack, coming through the door, to cries of dismay.

“Jack, you are in jeans,” cried Vi.

“Talk about letting the side down,” remarked Fred.

Jack looked abashed, but added, “Thought I would stay behind, make sure no-one breaks in and steals all the eggs.”

“Jack, you know Paddy want’s us all to attend Easter Service this morning. If we are having a joint Easter Festival this year, it starts at ten o’clock at St. Preservus,” admonished Vi.

Jack looked at his trainers. That were at least clean.

“Let’s say no more about it, you will have to do,” Evie concluded.

The last member of the party had arrived through the door marked Private, that led to the living quarters of the Crown. Paddy gave a harsh look at Jack, but said nothing.

“You always scrub up well Mr T, you should wear suits more often,” blushed Vi followed by Paddy.

Val brought him back down to earth, “Would you like me to do your hair?”

Paddy gave Val the look reserved just for her and her cheek, the one that kept her quiet for about five seconds.

“Right then, is everybody ready?” another glance at a fidgety Jack, Paddy continued, “Bernie and Tim are meeting us there.”

xxxx

The Crown seven shuffled into the pew at the back of Saint Preservus, led in by Vi and ushered in by Paddy bringing up the rear.

“Hello, I see the naughty pew has been taken this morning,” beamed Peter Noakes, “that is usually reserved for the Noakes family.”

“Have we stolen your seat?” laughed Paddy.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t the Crown, there won’t be a fight,” joked Peter as he and Camilla sat in front with Phyllis accompanying Lady Keville and aromatherapist Jane Sutton. “Looks like that’s the Crown pew this morning,” Phyllis winked at Paddy.

“Shove up!” the southern accent demanded, faintly attempting the local dialect.

“Trixie, that’s the pub pew this morning, come and join us,” Chummy suggested.

Paddy had already shifted for Trixie to sit down,

“I am representing Bernie,” Trixie grinned.

“Trixie is Team Crown,” Val added on the other side of Paddy.

“You ready for today, Trixie?” Paddy asked.

“I think so, I have some understanding of an egg hunt and even the hill rolling, but jarping remains a mystery to me,” Trixie informed him in all seriousness.

Paddy leaned in and kept his voice low, aware of his surroundings.

“Right then, the Crown and Church Easter Jarping Tournament, or as it was formerly known, the Crown Inn Easter Jarping Tournament. It's very easy to understand the rules.”

“I believe you,” Trixie smiled, but did not laugh.

Paddy leant forward in an attempt to not be overheard and Trixie followed him, “It is played in a knock-out format, like the FA Cup.” Trixie nodded she understood, Paddy continued his voice below his usual range. “Each contestant selects a hard boiled egg prepared by a neutral source.” Trixie nodded she was following. “Competitors divide into pairs. One is the holder or Jarpee and the other is the thruster or Jarper. You following Trix?”

“I think so?” she whispered back, her cheeks slightly flushed. Paddy swallowed and continued at the lower vibration.

“The holder grasps their egg with their dominant hand revealing just the tip. The Jarper holds their egg also in their dominant hand. The Jarper needs to know they can make a firm contact with the other egg, so gently rubs the end of their tool against the opponents to ensure the certainty of contact. So the Jarper has one attempt to make a clean strike. You following?” Paddy paused.

“Yes,” Trixie assured in a rather higher pitch than she intended, “It’s very warm in here, or is it just me?” she added removing her scarf. Paddy nodded still sat forwards whispering into Trixie’s ear.

“The pair then swap places and repeat this series of events. Everyone has a turn with everyone else. Once both tips of your egg are cracked, you are eliminated. The winner is the final competitor to have at least one end intact.”

The congregation hushed as Tom Hereward arrived in the pulpit, to start the service, just as Chummy who was sat directly in front of Paddy and Trixie exclaimed a little too loudly, “I’ve never been more aroused.”

Timothy Turner sitting at the organ, couldn’t help turn toward the back of the church to see where all the sniggering was coming from. To be honest, he knew exactly where the laughter was coming from, but he had to look. Lucille, in front of her choir, exchanged glances with him and they shrugged their shoulders. He looked at Bernie, who was shaking her head and glaring at the back of the church. Tom Hereward was looking a little flushed and said, “Shall we begin.”

xxxx

Back at the Crown it was all stations go. Violet gave a wicker basket to Fred.

“These are the onion peel dyed eggs, for egg rolling down Crown Bank. Take them to the back of the pub and remember it is one egg per child.”

“I wondered where that pong of onions was coming from. They do look pretty though, but don’t half pen and ink,” the brewer preferred a more hoppy odour.

“Jack, you take these plain eggs to the beer garden. There is a table set up with colouring pens and markers for the more artistic types. Remember one egg per child,” Jack nodded at Violet to reassure her he had got it.

“That leaves the jarpers for later. The Church are in charge of the Easter Egg Hunt around the village. I just hope they haven’t made it too difficult for the little ones,” Violet took a breath.

“I think it was Tim and Lucille who hid them, so should be all right Vi,” Val reassured with a wink.

xxxx

“So I just drop my egg down the bank?”

“Trixie, you must have rolled an Easter Egg before?” Bernie thought her friend was deliberately being dense.

“You mean one smelling of onions, can’t say I have,” Poplar's latest resident snapped back.

“No wonder we want to shot them away down the hill,” laughed Fred.

“What is the point?” Trixie wasn’t satisfied.

“It’s just a laugh, you race your pals and see how many times you can roll it, before it cracks,” Bernie was losing patience.

“Represents the stone rolling away from the tomb,” Paddy interjected, Bernie made a shocked face and Paddy grabbed her by the waist and said, “What? I am not a complete heathen,” threatening to roll her down the hill.

“So once I have rolled this, I have to go down the hill, retrieve it and if it hasn’t cracked, do it again, until it does?” Trixie said, keeping a wide berth from wrestling Paddy and Bernie, the latter now screaming.

Fred feeling a bit awkward himself with the tactileness of the moment, nodded at Trixie,

“Better get a move on love, don’t want to miss the start of the duck race.”

“Sorry?”

“The duck race down the Tweaven, first duck to Mount Busby wins.”

Paddy interrupted, suddenly letting go of Bernie, who actually did stagger a few feet down hill before achieving traction. “My favourite bit,” he grinned.

“You race real ducks, that is medieval,” protested Trixie.

“This from the Poplar sheep rustler,” corrected Paddy.

Bernie saved the situation and herself from joining the eggs at the bottom of the hill,

“They are not real ducks, Trixie, you know those ones you put in your bath, those rubber ones. You put your mark on one and the first one Reggie spots at the farm, wins.”

“Who has a bath these days? Haven't you all got showers yet?” Trixie was confused.

Paddy huffed. Bernie added, “You might be the one at the farm, waiting for a duck next year.”

“I don’t think that is in my job description,” Trixie added, but she didn’t look convinced.

Fred and Paddy were trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face, “Fancy a pint, Fred?”

“Not arf, Doc,” he replied, already heading for the pub.

“You are all as cracked as these eggs,” Trixie said, delicately tossing her egg southwards.

xxxx

Trixie walked back to the front of the Crown and wondering if she was doing the right thing moving to potty Poplar. She made her way to the beer garden and was surprised to see her new employers surrounded by sticky fingers and loud chatter. Turner Prize nominee Patience Mount, was decorating eggs with the village children. She was helping a few of the Sunday School class with their fragile Easter bonnets, some of which looked more like caps or helmets.

Delia, never far away, stood guard over a cardboard box, where a couple of fluffy yellow chicks were being coo’d over. Phyllis was still accompanying Lady Keville, who had brought a large selection of knitted egg warmers in all the colours of the rainbow. They were showing a group of children how to make the pom-pom version of the tweety little critters in Delia’s box. Lucille had been delighted with these knitted extras, and had Tim yarn-bomb Poplar, distributing them around the village, as part of the Easter Egg Trail.

Trixie was feeling a little bit lost. Bernie had returned from the egg rolling in one piece and was now interrogating Paddy, “What were you all laughing at in church, tell me?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he winked at Trixie.

Trixie grinned, “I feel like a vegan in the hen house. What can I do, to help at my first Poplar Easter Festival?”

“Well, you are good at sales, you can be in charge of the raffle,” Paddy said, as if he had given her the combination to his safe.

Val placed on the bar a huge cuddly grey and white rabbit, holding a large gold foil covered chocolate egg. Trixie forced a smile.

“There are a couple of envelopes there too; Second Prize is a Mount Busby Alpaca Day Out and third prize is a Meal for Two at the Crown.” Paddy announced proudly and Trixie suddenly connected with her new life.

Until Bernie spoilt it, “Fourth prize is an Alpaca Day Out and a meal at the Crown,” laughing hysterically at her own joke. While Trixie, Val and Paddy refused to. Even though Val’s lips were twitching.

Valerie passed Trixie a tupperware box full of coins “A float; to get you started, they always come with notes.” Trixie smiled a little bit.

xxxx

The sun was lowering behind the Cleveland Hills, cooling the Crown beer garden. The last of the tables had been cleared and the clutter added to the recycling bin. Val was taking orders for drinks. The children had all gone home. The Two Loves had taken Antonia back to Bagnall Hall. Trixie sat proudly admiring a brightly decorated toilet roll inner with a bright yellow toy chick with a wonky beak, stuck on the top with blu-tack.

“I can’t believe you won the Egg Jarping, Trixie,” Bernie shook her head.

“Beginner's luck,” shouted an envious Jack.

“Expert training,” suggested Paddy.

“What are you going to do with your trophy, Trixie?” laughed Val

“Put it on top of Bernie’s telly,” Trixie said emphatically.

“That monstrosity is not coming into my house,” Bernie cried in mock indignation.

“Oi, Tim made that,” Paddy yelled.

“About ten years ago, Dad!” Tim blushed in horror. Lucille and Jack’s laughter adding insult to injury.

Tom and Bobby and baby Hereward appeared. It was the first time they had been seen since church. They had been overseeing the egg hunt around the village and offering refreshments at the church, a role Bernie had envied.

“The church is locked up, and the village is litter free,” explained Bobby to Julia who was sipping on a Crabbies’ ginger beer, emphasis on the beer.

“Splendid, everyone has worked so hard today,” Julia commented. “That little one looks tired,” she added, observing a grouchy baby in Bobby’s arms.

“She actually needs changing,” Bobby explained.

Val, who was passing Evie a pint of Easter Egg Ale informed the young mother, “The toilets are just inside Mrs Hereward, the changing facilities are in there.”

“Oh thanks, Valerie,” said Bobby and moved toward the backdoor.

Tom held up a hand, “We should really be getting home, love.”

“Aren't you two stopping for a drink, we’ve all earned it,” asked Julia, taking another sip of her memory.

“No, we better get home and get this little madam seen to,” Tom laughed weakly.

“Be quicker, just to change her here if she's uncomfortable?” Phyllis, sipping on a double brandy, offered.

“I would rather we went home,” replied Tom curtly.

“The facilities here are excellent. I should know, I make sure they are spotless every morning,” Evie’s tone held authority.

“But it is 6pm,” Tom’s voice had a higher pitch now.

“Bernie or myself, check the loos every hour. If you look on the door, we have to sign to say everything is in order,” Val couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Look, you’re all very kind, but I don't want my daughter being changed in a pub toilet,” Tom’s voice was adamant.

Evie looked as if she was about to combust.

Julia intervened, “Tom, maybe you should get your family home, we have all had a long day.”

“And confusing. I am sorry, but I really haven’t seen the point of this. We welcomed everyone to church this morning, for the most important date in the Christian calendar, and then chased them all to the pub. Where is the message in that?”

The youth minister's words left the beer garden in a dense fog of discomfort. Julia looked lost for a moment. It was Phyllis who spoke up,

“Today was about community lad, bringing the village and the wider area together. These two buildings have been central to this village for over 300 years. It’s about time they came together.”

Phyllis had given Julia time to compose herself, “We will discuss the issues you have raised concerning a joint festival in a meeting tomorrow, Mr Hereward.”

Baby Hereward was becoming more grumpy, and Bobby was struggling to placate her. Paddy, who had been very quiet through this most recent exchange of views, offered quietly.

“Mrs Herward, your daughter seems very unhappy. Would you like to take her upstairs to the flat? Where you can have ample space and privacy.”

“Lets go Bobby, I will see you tomorrow, Reverend,” Tom nodded at Julia, Bobby didn’t have time to acknowledge Paddy’s offer, as she was pushed by her husband towards the door.

Someone with not the longest fuse in Poplar, had sweaty palms and a racing heart and a mouth she couldn’t keep shut.

“If yer have issues with the joint festival, then that is fine, Mr Hereward, as Reverend Lewis said that needs to be discussed between you tomorrow.” Everyone recognised the north of the border twang. That wasn’t done yet.

“But I have issue with your attitude right now concerning this house, it is so much more than an alehouse, it’s a place where people work, it is a home.” Tom stopped in his tracks, Bernie went on,

“Your place of work just happens to be the House of God. Now we were invited into that house this morning and everyone here, acted in a respectful manner.” Bernie took a breath. There was some awkward shuffling on the garden benches. She was on a roll though,

“You were invited into our home today and I feel you have not returned that respect. To say the Crown isn’t a fit place for a child, maybe you want to take a look at Timothy Turner, he was raised here. Would Mrs Turner have chosen this as a home, if she thought the Crown wasn't a fit place for a child? I think he has turned out pretty OK, don’t you?”

Tim wished at this point, that people would just remember who he was, and not feel the need to check by staring at him. Fortunately Bernie went on,

“Surely what matters is not whether it is a House of Prayer or a House of Refreshment, but a House of Love. And you can take my word for it, for what that may be worth. This house is just that. There is so much love in this house, I am only sorry yer canae feel it.”

Later Trixie said that she started the clapping, but everyone was sure it was Val, followed by Lucille. There was definitely a “Well said lass,” from Phyllis and somebody, maybe more than one, said her dad would be proud. Was there an Amen? The kids just said, “You don’t mess with our Bernie.” Did anyone notice Paddy said nothing, he just beamed with pride. If pride was a signal the Crown was 5G?

xxxxx

“I am barred from St Preservus.That’s the Mission I have offended and the church in one week,” Bernie complained.

There was only her and Paddy now. The sun had gone to its rest behind the hills. They sat on Frank and Peggy’s bench sharing a secret ciggie, Bernie perched on Paddy’s knee.

“Nonsense, Julia totally supported you. It’s Mr Hereward who should be worried and as for the Mission, does that really matter now, Bernie?”

“Mr Hereward is young and idealistic, everything is black and white to him, I used to know someone else like that,” she smiled stubbing out the butt of the fag, they hoped Tim would never know about.

“What happened to her?” Paddy said, turning her face gently towards his with both hands.

“She came home,” she smiled and kissed him tenderly, in a way that she was just beginning to understand.

“Bernie, you know this can be your home, whenever you want it to be, on whatever terms you want.” He looked at her intently. Bernie knew if she didn’t save herself, she would drown in those eyes.

“You know what I do want?” she kissed him on the forehead and pushed back his unruly hair. He just raised both eyebrows saying tell me?

“Are those pink wafers still behind the bar?”

“Go see,” he laughed, helping her off his knee.

Bernie almost ran to the bar. She found a package wrapped in gold foil with a red bow. She ripped open recklessly the carefully wrapped box. Only to find a large brightly coloured tin which read Huntley and Palmer Superior Biscuits. Bernie’s expression looked like it was Christmas, birthdays and Easter all at once.

“Paddy, I bloody love you.”

Paddy smiled, “Happy Easter, Bernie,”

#call the midwife fic #easter bernie #easter sunday #sorry i hadn't realized I hadn't posted on fic-al

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

National Enquirer, January 18

You can now buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Bill and Hillary Clinton

Page 2: Katie Holmes’ friends are warning her to wise up about her hot-tempered beau Emilio Vitolo Jr. after he went on a profanity-laced rant -- Emilio’s been in an edgy mood over his family New York City restaurant losing money while they’re forced to stay closed because of the pandemic and he’s definitely let his nice guy mask slip and it’s affecting their relationship and everything was all peaches and cream before but now it’s strained and difficult at times -- Emilio showed his ugly side when he raged against New York Governor Andrew Cuomo for shutting down indoor dining on his Instagram Stories

Page 3: Tom Cruise’s chemistry with his latest Mission: Impossible co-star Hayley Atwell has spilled over to real life but it’s no surprise because the British beauty is the mirror image of Tom’s ex-wife Katie Holmes and Tom deliberately hunted down a Katie clone to be his on-screen leading lady and Hayley is everything Tom is looking for in a partner and more -- physically Katie was Tom’s definition of total perfection which is brunette with an athletic build and he’s been quietly looking for a girlfriend for some time who had the features he loves which is brown hair and a squarish jaw and hazel eyes

Page 4: Stressed-out and scandal-scarred Ellen DeGeneres in binge eating her way toward an early grave and Ellen is burying her sorrows by bingeing on junk food and milkshakes -- she’s packed on 30 pounds in 30 days after Kelly Clarkson beat her in the ratings for the third week in a row -- Ellen is convinced the world has turned on her and hides in her dressing room and locks herself in her bedroom and eats until she can barely breathe and it’s the only thing that gives her any comfort these days and the results speak for themselves because she’s bursting out of her clothes

* Radio shock jock Howard Stern has blasted back at former staffers who painted him a cheap and petty monster -- the King of All Media said at the end of night he sleeps fine

Page 5: Concerned mom Andie MacDowell is fearing for the safety of her starlet daughter Margaret Qualley after she was caught canoodling with accused abuser Shia LaBeouf -- no one can understand why she’d be with this guy after he’s been accused of such horrible things and Andie is beside herself with worry and she fears Shia may have staged his PDA with her daughter to polish his tarnished image

Page 6: TV couple Chip and Joanna Gaines have prepped for the reboot of their wildly popular Fixer Upper reality show by undergoing extensive renovations on their looks and they spared no excuse in getting personal makeovers for the show’s return -- they are splurging on trainers, stylists, new clothes, designer makeup, at-home spa days and pricey hairstyling plus other indulgences

Page 7: Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani have called of their spring wedding plans after they were caught on camera in a vicious street fight -- they’ve been fighting about everything since they got engaged and all that tension finally exploded in a brutal screaming match -- the ruckus erupted over groomzilla Blake’s feeling that Gwen has given him little support after he’d spent endless hours and millions of dollars planning their over-the-top nuptials and after all his plans Gwen suggested they simply elope and Blake blew his stack -- Blake was already bristling because Gwen seemed more focused on jump-starting her career than their wedding plans

* Jennifer Lopez recently confessed she and retired slugger Alex Rodriguez are mulling never getting married after benching their wedding plans amid the coronavirus crisis and she’s been spotted without her engagement ring

Page 8: Barbra Streisand and James Brolin have bounced back from the brink of a $400 million divorce and now they’re even talking about making a movie together with Babs feeding him directing tips -- they’ve had their ups and downs but they’re getting a second wind and believe doing a project together will give their relationship the kick-start it needs -- James has seen his career revitalized with his role in the sitcom Life in Pieces and directing several TV movies and his recent success is pretty exciting to both of them -- James’ dream is to direct a big-budget feature starring his son Josh Brolin and Barbra wants to help him realize that goal

* Barely a year after leaving Britain broke and beaten Meghan Markle has regained her Markle Sparkle with Hollywood flooding the former D-list actress with movie scripts and big-bucks deals -- the wife of Prince Harry is savoring her triumph as Hollywood’s newly crowned queen and thumbing her nose at the royals -- since leaving the cable TV drama Suits Meghan has missed acting and now she’s looking for the right big-screen project to relaunch her career

Page 9: Sex and the City is on track for a reboot only this time without black-sheep cast member Kim Cattrall -- Sarah Jessica Parker, Cynthia Nixon and Kristin Davis are all reuniting for what Sarah has called a revisit of the hit series -- Kim who has had widely publicized spats with series star and producer Sarah over the years has complained about the fan backlash she received for bowing out of a third Sex and the City movie follow-up

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Tiger Woods hit the links at a Florida tournament with son Charlie, John Legend and Chrissy Teigen walked hand-in-hand during a hike with pals in St. Barts, Pete Davidson took a stab at knitting, Paris Hilton with white roses

Page 11: Bill Cosby is refusing to shower with his fellow prisoners because an outbreak of COVID-19 in the SCI Phoenix prison has caused the fallen funnyman to steer clear of the showers

* Martha Stewart turns 80 in 2021 but the scrappy senior’s been working her farm like an energetic 20-year-old -- the domestic diva has been riding out the pandemic at her 153-acre farm in Upstate New York but she’s doing anything but taking it easy as she’s up early milking cows, shoveling snow and even chopping wood for the fireplace and she hasn’t ignored her Martha Stewart Living lifestyle empire

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Ryan Seacrest personally tapped Billy Porter as his co-host on Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve because Ryan is Billy’s biggest fan

* Kanye West and televangelist Joel Osteen have parted ways -- Joel loves the spotlight as much as Kanye but he wasn’t prepared for the backlash after they were criticized for their walking-on-water stunt and that was when things started to sour

* The Kardashians’ new show on Hulu promises to spark even more controversy as it will show a much more X-rated version of the family

* New Bachelor Matt James gets in a round of golf near his home in Jupiter, Florida (picture)

Page 13: Michael Douglas was over the moon after becoming a grandfather again at 76 and has big plans for the Douglas family dynasty -- reformed bad-boy Cameron Douglas and longtime partner Viviane Thibes welcomed son Ryder nearly three years after their daughter Lua -- making him a grandfather again is the greatest gift Cameron could have given his poor old dad and Michael hopes he loves to be 103 like his dad Kirk Douglas so he can watch Lua and Ryder grow up

* Reba McEntire’s new beau Rex Linn is a junk food junkie and she’s worried he’s digging his own grave with a knife and fork -- Reba loves Rex and he’s the sweetest guy in the universe but it’s just troubling the way he eats everything in sight -- Reba’s worried he’ll be six feet under if he doesn’t change his ways soon and she’s desperate for him to lose 25 pounds and she’s determined to put him on a sensible mostly vegetarian diet but Rex keeps sneaking chips and sweets when he thinks she’s not looking

Page 15: Four years into their brutal divorce battle Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are entering into a new custody battle this time for their pets -- the fractured couple’s clash over their five youngest children remains at a standstill as Angie refuses to budge on her demand for full custody -- while Brad continues to battle for shared custody of the kids he’s now making moves to ensure he has equal time with their critters as well -- Angie’s house is full of animals many of which Brad helped choose and raise and while he doesn’t want full-term custody of them he’d like to at least have them accompany the kids when they visit because Brad has noticed the children miss their pets when they’re with him and he wants to rectify that and he thinks they’ll want their visits to be longer if they have their pets with them

Page 16: Scandal-tarred Prince Andrew faces a shocking new investigation into how he lives like a billionaire despite being cut off from British taxpayer funds -- the disgraced playboy stripped of royal duties in 2019 over his involvement in the Jeffrey Epstein sex scandal has no steady stream in income to explain his lavish lifestyle of private jets and ski chalets and luxury cars -- but Randy Andy has apparently been secretly trading on his blue-blood roots to sponge off Arab princes and score lucrative deals with shady tycoons and cash-rich international oligarchs like Qatar’s Minister of Economy and Trade Sheikh Mohammed Bin Ahmed Althani and Secretary General Issa Abu Issa -- a probe of his financial dealings could see Andrew further shamed and banished from the royals forever

Page 19: Taylor Swift’s heady brew of mysticism in her new album Evermore has fans wondering is Tay Tay a witch -- in a music video for her song Willow she pursues a magical glowing thread through an enchanted forest and joins in with a witchy circle of cloaked revelers -- Wiccans are rushing to embrace her but others are wondering whether Taylor’s interest in witchcraft is merely to boost sales

Page 22: Devastated Lisa Marie Presley struggled through Christmas as the heartbroken mom is still coming to terms with the suicide of her only son Benjamin Keough -- her holiday was somber after she wasn’t included in her mom Priscilla Presley’s holiday plans -- Lisa Marie arranged to spend one night at Graceland to be with Ben at his final resting place

Page 26: Health Watch

Page 34: Kat Von D has made herself at home in a haunted house -- she left L.A. with her husband Leafar Seyer to give their son a more normal environment and instead they wound up in a seven-bedroom Victorian mansion in rural Vevay, Indiana that has 13 fireplaces and a local reputation as a retreat for ghosts

Page 36: Grateful Dead fans have been dying violent and mysterious deaths for decades sparking fears the hippie band’s superfans are being targeted by a bloodthirsty serial killer

Page 38: John Mulaney chatted up young girls on sex sites and sent nude selfies that suggested he was doing cocaine before checking into rehab -- the married star decided to get help after girls who partied with him online threatened to expose how he’d broken his 15 years of sobriety

Page 40: Garth Brooks confessed his life in lockdown with wife Trisha Yearwood hasn’t been in perfect harmony because he’s driving her bonkers with his nonstop whistling

* Hollywood Hookups -- Joe Giudice showed off his new squeeze who is a lawyer, Tyler Perry and Gelila Bekele split, Ariana Grande and Dalton Gomez engaged

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Duchess Kate Middleton in 2020

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Tichina Arnold and Beth Behrs on the sitcom The Neighborhood

Page 47: Odd List -- two months after hoofing it from a New Jersey slaughterhouse a runaway goat was captured and given a new lease on life according to the animal rescue that snagged the fleet-footed critter, a Texas man helped his boss turn the page on an old debt by settling his 48-year-old library fine as a joke

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spectraspecs-writes · 3 years

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Korriban - Chapter 94

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 93. Chapter 95.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

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This tomb looks significantly newer than Ajunta Pall’s, and there’s text that I can actually read so it must be recent enough. It’s not Galactic Basic, but it’s not some long-dead language, either. This is the tomb of Tulak Hord, a lightsaber specialist by the look of it. So definitely more recent than Ajunta Pall, who didn’t have a lightsaber. This is the tomb where I met Lashowe, though, that’s going to have consequences as far as the tuk’ata population is concerned. Without the matriarch, there may be infighting to establish a new matriarch, or a daughter may have stepped up that isn’t fit to rule the pack. In an ideal world the pack would just go on as normal but when is it ever an ideal world?

This tomb is a little brighter than Ajunta Pall’s, but still pretty dark. There’s more to it, too - Ajunta Pall’s was a straight shot with a trick along the way. This tomb is from a different era, and relies on twists and turns as well as tricks to keep looters at bay. But we are not the first to proceed this way, and a bit of a trail has been marked by dark splotches on the walls. No, they’re not blood - even if the Sith were that weird, you’d have to carry the blood through the tomb and that would drive the tuk’ata nuts. That’s a death wish kind of thing to do. But the splotches are high enough on the wall that the tuk’ata couldn’t reach, and too regular to be natural. I can handle if it’s a trap of some kind.

The tuk’ata are not composed at all, which is what I expected. When we run across a few, they don’t attack in a uniform fashion. It’s sloppy, uncoordinated, and they don’t attack as a unit. Damn you, Lashowe, you ruined the pack dynamics. Most of them I can just scare off, but we do have to kill a few along the route marked off for us.

The route dead ends near an ancient console, sort of like the ones in the ruins on Dantooine. They said the Star Map was in Naga Sadow’s tomb, so what is this doing here? I hit a button. It still works and it displays in Basic. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Jolee says.

“Yeah, me too,” I say, “but I think we can get ourselves out of any trouble.” I use the console to open the door.

“I dread the day you’re wrong about that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

We step through and are met with another closed door as the one behind us closes. Something… smells awful. Is the room spinning? Oh, shit, poison gas. Carth… is Carth okay?

Jesus, that knocked the wind out of me. I feel like there’s a Reek sitting on my chest. I try to look around. I’m not in the chamber anymore. Looks like the crypt. Carth - where’s Carth? He’s still out cold. Jolee’s conscious but pretending he’s not. Which he would only do if he got some benefit out of it. Something smells again. But not like poison, more like sweat. Someone here has not bathed in days, minimum, and it’s none of us.

“Awake already, are you?” Sounds like a kookier old man than Jolee, who I can actually hear huff in my head. Ah, he knows I love him. “Good!” I try to get a better look at this crusty old dude. He’s got the same grayish skin as Master Uthar, but way more crazed. “This is the tomb of Sith Lord Tulak Hord, if you don't know. I've taken up residence here, for now… it's dusty and full of critters, but it's home.”

I try and fail to sit up a bit. “Not that I don’t get the sentiment, because I would love to swap stories about dusty critter homes, but who are you and why the hell am I here?”

“Ah, yes!” he exclaims, “Introductions of course! I suppose it is time, isn't it?” Anyone like this who hasn’t had twelve cups of caff is certifiably cuckoo for Core Puffs. (Hell, even if you have had twelve cups of caff, I’d still be worried about you being a responsible adult alone.) “This other student here that I captured earlier you should know well enough. His name is Mekel. Say hello, Mekel.”

God, he looks awful! He tries to mumble something at me but can’t. From what I can tell he’s got loads of fresh electrical scarring, and I don’t think he got it playing with wires. “Poor lad,” the kook says with mock sympathy, “He's had a hard day. My name is Jorak Uln. I was once the head of the academy, so I'm sure you've heard of me.”

“Yeah, I heard you went nuts and ran for the hills.”

He blusters and can’t managed to get a single comprehensible word out, except for “stupid Uthar”, before moving on. “Anyway…” he says, trying not to release his anger on me yet, “I'd like to propose that we move onto the main event. You see, I'd like to discover if you've got the pluck of an old-fashioned Sith. Most of the drek Uthar has been passing through these days is so pathetic. Take young Mekel here… I already tested him. Didn't I, Mekel?” Mekel mumbles again, and Jorak Uln laughs. “Yes, yes, you're welcome. You see, Mekel here has the cruel disposition of a Sith,” - which doesn’t surprise me - “but not the gumption that I'm looking for.”

Well, he’s definitely lost it, and needs clinical help finding it. But that’s not going to get me out of here. “So what happens if I pass your test?”

“Why, then, you go free!” Bingo! “Tell you what… I'll even pass onto you my own personal thesis on ancient Sith philosophies. They're based on all I've learned studying Tulak's tomb. It'll make you a better Sith, I'm sure.” Which is not something I’m looking for. “The chances of you passing, however, are sadly remote.”

I like my chances, actually. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Now, now, is that any kind of attitude to take with higher education?” In my experience, yes. “I'm doing you a favor, really. So, then! This is how it goes: I'm going to pose a moral question to you. Get it right, and I torture Mekel. Get it wrong, and I torture you.” You can’t answer a moral question right or wrong, they’re opinions. But you know what, I don’t think that concerns him. “Mekel, here, is a bit weak… he probably won't be able to take much more punishment.” No, that’s some bad scarring, like “seek help now” scarring. “Mind you… get too many wrong and you'll die, yourself.” I’ve got a pretty high tolerance for electricity like that, but if it’s anything like how I was shocked earlier… I don’t want that again. But I can’t kill Mekel, either. He’s trash, sure, but he’s young trash. He could grow out of his trashiness if he’s given a push in the right direction. “I don't know what you think of Mekel. Maybe you don't like him. Maybe you think he deserves to be murdered? Well, here's your chance. Fair enough?” Okay, I can take some damage, how much can Mekel take? Trying to calculate all this in my head, work out my angles. When I don’t respond, Jorak Uln talks again. “Well, then! Any last comments before we begin, Mekel?”

Mekel looks over at me, he can see the wheels turning in my head. He grunts and says, “We can... both survive... attack him together!”

“Now, now, dear lad,” Uln says, “Do you really think your friend here will answer questions wrong just to spare little you, risking her own life? And how many correctly-answered questions before you die, hmmm? No, don't be silly… you had your chance, remember? On that note, let's begin!

“Now, then. Your immediate superior amongst the Sith is an effective commander and a fine leader. He trusts you and you like him. You see an opportunity to kill him. What do you do?”

A Sith would answer that they’d kill him and take power. But I have to be strategic about this to get both of us out alive. Let’s answer this one honestly. “I do nothing. He’s a good leader.”

“Incorrect!” Yeah, I know. “What sort of thinking is that? If all the Sith thought as you did, we would all be soft like the Jedi.” You’d also have a military that wasn’t built on fear and cruelty, but that must be too much to ask. “Ah, well. It is time for your punishment.” Oh, good God! Fuck!

But it’s over quick enough, thankfully, and he moves on to the next question. “And so we come to round two. You come across a group of humans who are threatened by dangerous animals. They plead for help, offering you a reward. What do you do?”

Hell, I’d help them without a reward. A Sith would take the reward and leave them. But I need a breather before I get shocked again. I give Mekel an apologetic look before I answer. “I take the reward and leave them to die.”

“Correct! The humans would no doubt just be preyed upon by something else, later.” Assuming I just left them. “Stand up for yourself, I say! We're not Jedi shepherds, after all.” He looks at Mekel. “Sadly, Mekel, the ingenuity of your fellow student is your loss. This is going to hurt.” Even as Mekel writhes in pain, I can’t help but be grateful it isn’t me. Even as his skin breaks and more scars ripple across.

Third question. “Let's see… ah, yes. You discover an aspect of the Force that gives you great power. Do you share it and strengthen the Sith as a whole or keep it to yourself?”

A Sith answer, as well as a scout’s answer, is to keep it to yourself. You always keep an advantage to keep yourself afloat at the end. For me it’s a hot springs on Utapau. The people there are fair traders and welcoming of outsiders, soil is rocky in a lot of places but they’ve spent millennia farming there so they know what they’re doing. Wildlife is stunning. I figured it would be a good place to settle when I couldn’t scout anymore. I guess for a Force user, a new power would be just as valuable. But I think Mekel needs a breather now. I don’t want to give it to him. But who am I if I let him die? “I share it,” I say finally.

“You gained an advantage and you share it freely?!” Dude, shut up. “Let them rip the secret from my dead hands, I say!” I plan to. “I mean... 'share it'?! Are you mad?!” He sighs. “Well, you did ask for this. It's for your own good.” Holy hell, I hate this! What the shit have I gotten myself into?

God, I need a break. “Still going?” Man, shut the hell up. “Alright, then. One of your underlings has made a major mistake which makes you look bad. He is normally very competent and skilled. Do you kill him or give him another chance?”

Personally I’d let him live. Let him learn. A Sith would kill him without a thought. And I don’t want to get hit again. Not so soon. “Kill him,” I say.

“Correct!” he exclaims. “Publicly, if you can. There is no room for that level of failure.” Dude, you’re the one living in a crypt, don’t lecture me about failure. “Not killing him would be seen as a sign of weakness... and then where would you be?” He turns to Mekel. “Ahhh, Mekel. The time has come once again, hasn't it?” Lightning shoots from his fingers again.

“Last question!” Oh, thank fuck. “You're about to die. Do you pass on your knowledge to your apprentice to make him stronger… or do you use your last breath to strike at your enemies?”

Just when I think the answer to this isn’t obvious, it comes to me: A true Sith never dies. Like… is that metaphorical, like how people still remember Ajunta Pall, or is that literal in the sense that Ajunta Pall wasn’t exactly dead? Or could it be both at once? Is Tulak Hord floating from room to room? Is there an ancient Sith no one remembers who’s haunting some cantina or something? And what does “true Sith” mean, anyway? What happens to a “false” Sith? Where did that answer even come from?

Either way, Mekel looks awful. I don’t think he’ll survive another right answer. I may hate it but I’ve still got a few wrong answers in me, and if this is the last question, then I’ll be okay. “I pass on my knowledge.”

Jorak Uln giggles excitedly. “Fool! It is a trick question! A true Sith never dies!!” You mean I was right? He laughs again. “I'll enjoy this one. Time for your medicine!” Shit shit! It’s okay, Rena, just lie back and think of droids, they always apologize for shocking you!

He gives me a moment to breathe. But it’s not a kindness. “Now, this is odd,” he says, “The test is over and you're both still alive. Well that's never happened before. Hmmmn…” Jolee shifts a bit. Carth is conscious now and even though Jolee has healed him both are still playing dead for now. “What to do, what to do…” Uln ponders, “I suppose this means you can go, Mekel.” He releases him from his grip. “I'll have to just figure out what to do with our friend, here. Run along, now.”

“Or…” Mekel says slowly, “… or I could use the Force to free her! And we could kill you!!” I feel Uln’s grip on me slacken and finally break. My legs feel jellied but I can still stand, and I pull out my lightsabers. I reach out with the Force and exhaust it to heal Mekel and myself. I hope Jolee saved some energy because we're both still only at half strength. “Seems you didn't think of that, old man!!”

“What?!” Uln exclaims, “Mutiny! Behave, students! I'll…!” Now Jolee reaches out to both of us, and I can stand on my legs again. Mekel’s scarring closes over. Carth jumps to his feet and pulls Jolee up. And now Uln loses the little he had left. “That's it! Detention for all of you! Permanent detention!!”

Uln activates his double-bladed lightsaber, but I’ve got my two out and Mekel has his as well. None of us have any Force left, but neither does Uln, which evens it out a bit. Uln focuses on Mekel, which means I can fight dirty from behind if I avoid the other end of his lightsaber. No one gives me electrical scarring if they don’t apologize afterwards. If he were a droid who didn’t apologize, well, I’d get to retune his power core, which can be unpleasant for the droid. People don’t have power cores, so I guess I have to just beat him senseless. Mekel pushes him backwards onto uneven footing. I sweep his legs out from under him and he falls over. Without missing a beat, Mekel runs him through.

He stands over him and laughs ironically. “What do you know?” he says, “I guess he wasn't a 'true Sith' after all.” He sighs and relaxes. “I can't believe that I'm alive,” he says, “You saved me… you could have easily just answered those questions and let me die. You knew the answers, I could tell, I could see you mulling it over.”

“Nobody deserves to die like that,” I say firmly, “There is no universe in which I left you to die.”

He takes a second to reflect. “Yeah, well…” he says thoughtfully, “… I see what you mean. I’ve never… I mean, I've never been on that side of the fence before. It makes you think. I'd be dead if you weren't…” He stops again, like he’s correcting himself. “… I mean, if you were a proper Sith. But you're not, are you? Don't worry… I won't tell anyone.”

“Frankly, I wasn’t worried, but thank you, anyway,” I say. He’s still quite pensive. “Seems to me like you’ve got a lot on your mind, a lot of thinking to do.” He looks at me wordlessly. “I get the impression you don't want to be a ‘true Sith’ like Uln. You’ve just got some crap to work through. There’s better places to work through it.”

“You mean… the light side?” he says softly, “I've never thought about that. Can you… can you even go back? I've done some… I mean, I've hurt a lot of people.”

“There's always remorse,” Jolee says, “And atonement. That's the harder path, though, boy. Think you can do that?”

“I…” he says nervously, “I don't think the light side is for me. But… maybe neither are the Sith. Maybe it's time for me to leave.”

I take a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I say, “but have you thought about Czerka?”

Mekel scoffs. “Hell, no. Fuck Czerka.”

“Thank you!” I say, and we share a grin. “Well,” I say, “good luck wherever you end up.”

“To you, as well,” he says, “And… thank you.” He walks away, following the splotches on the wall to the exit.

Jorak Uln did a poor job of hiding his thesis. The ancient stone tablet is resting on the tomb of Tulak Hord, right out in the open. It’s not as heavy as it looks, but I am positively worn out, so Carth carries it for me out of the tomb. “So,” he asks me, “are you going to bother with any more tombs?”

“Hell, no, I’m not doing anything else today except relax with that bottle of Tarisian ale on the ship, I am exhausted.”

“I had hoped to save that till the end of the war,” he says, “but I think you’ve earned it now. But that wasn’t what I meant.” I look at him curiously. “By my count all of the other hopefuls are gone. Mekel just left, Lashowe’s dead, we’ll find out about Shaardan soon enough. Whether you’ve earned enough prestige or not, there isn’t exactly anyone left to oppose you.”

“You sound like you’ve got something in mind,” I say.

He shrugs sheepishly. “Well,” he says slowly, “I guess I’d… like to join you for that drink, if you don’t mind.”

This is a hell of a time to ask me out. Not that I’m complaining. “I’d like that,” I say.

He tries very hard not to beam. God, he’s adorable.

-----

Shaardan is dead at Master Uthar’s feet. Frankly I’m surprised nobody’s moved the body yet. “Master Uthar!” I call to get his attention, and he turns to me. “I have a tablet written by Jorak Uln.” Carth hands it off to him.

Uthar looks surprised. “It appears my old master was busy studying the writings in one of the tombs. How interesting.” He glances at me. “I do hope you had to pry this from his dead fingers.” Not exactly. “Regardless, you have impressed me with your worthy act.” He looks directly at me now. “Even if you were not the sole remaining hopeful, you have impressed me enough, by my estimation, to become a Sith in full. Congratulations, young one… you have bested the others quite completely, in more ways than one I’m sure. You have but one final test which you must take, and this requires us to travel to the tomb of Naga Sadow in the Valley of the Dark Lords. I would advise you to be rested and equipped before we leave. Return to your quarters now and seek me out in the morning.”

“My ship is still docked in Dreshdae,” I say, “Do you have any objection if I got there instead?”

“Go where you choose. But when you return, make sure that you have all that you will need… for you will face your test alone. Go, and may the Force serve you well.”

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themidnightfarmer · 4 years

Text

Owe you my life || Dot & Jared

Timing: Back before bloody Mary stuff <3

Location: Town somewhere

Tagging: @dotdotdottie & @themidnightfarmer

Description: Jared witnesses a little something he shouldn’t have, and ends up in debt

Triggers: Kidnapping tw, gun tw,

It was a situation Jared had never been in before. Watching a person be snatched off the street was just not anything you would have been ready for in your life unless you’d had a pretty unhealthy upbringing. The following decision was perhaps not the smartest he could have had either, but no one would ever mistake the nymph for someone with more than a very select few brain cells working at a time. His feet hit the concrete hard as he followed the car, sprinting down short cut after short cut -the kind you learned when you were a truant in your youth. While he didn’t think to call the police perhaps about what he’d seen, he did think enough to not want to be seen easily and recognised by the snatcher. So his glamour changed slightly. He gave himself brown hair and eyes, his face shape shifting to be slightly rounder. Spotting the car having stopped he skid to a halt and dove behind a bush. Watching through the branches at what was going on.

Dot didn’t usually take jobs like this, but she needed the money. She had spent way too much money this month on her friends doing stupid shit. She was the driver and the handler for a kidnapping job. Someone who owed money to the wrong people, Dot hadn’t asked for too many details when it came to the job. As they pulled up to the warehouse, Dot popped out of the van, and told the other two with her to bring the crying man inside. After he was settled in, she sent the other two off to go grab whoever they needed to finish the job. She was working on a research paper with the soft sounds of sobbing around a gag in the background.

He lingered in the shadows, and watched the initial van to warehouse exchange although unable to hear exactly what was being said. Jared wasn’t the law, but he didn’t think clearly enough to call anyone else. He couldn’t make out anything when they all vanished into the warehouse so -once two of the captors had driven away again Jared figured he’d try his chances getting closer. Should he free the person? Did he want to be involved? Honestly he hadn’t even known this warehouse existed. And he was yet to realize he should call the cops -not that it would have helped as he was one of those locals who didn’t know street names and could only tell you directions from landmarks or lefts and rights. And that wouldn’t help the cops much as he’d taken a few back alleys to keep up. The nymph peered into the door, his eyes catching sight of the tied up individual, and then landing on the last captor left. Direct eye contact in fact. “Shit.” he took off like a shot.

Well, that was unfortunate. Witnesses weren’t exactly in the plan. Sighing, Dot snapped her laptop shut and stood. She wasn’t exactly in the mood for a chase, her hangover throbbing behind her eyes with every move, but she moved. She wasn’t going to fuck up this job over some random. Calling out as she ran, Dot hoped a threat would be enough to stop the dude,“Stop running and I don’t shoot.” The gun that was on her hip gleamed in the light. She was gaining on him, she hadn’t run all through high school and college for no reason. She might kill him either way, but if she didn’t have to deal with cleanup that would be a plus. Maybe she could even get something out of it.

The nymph was trying to process what he’d seen as quickly as he could, but it turned out running through very uneven terrain took an awful lot more brain power than he was used to. Jared placed his feet as well as he could but it didn’t seem to do him any good, he stumbled often, and his sharp ears could hear footsteps catching up. He was no made for this, the ‘dangerous’ things he encountered he tended to stand his ground with, running didn’t really solve anything with his kids. But people were different, it was never a safe bet to know what their nature was. At the threat of a gun he did stop, he stopped dead and turned with his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

Huh, it worked. Thank god. Dot had been ready to face the grim reality of having to call someone to help her get rid of the body. Little blessings, she thought as she pointed the gun at the man with his hands up. “Come on, dude, let’s go back.” She’d deal with him by the warehouse so she was nearby the captive. “I’ll deal with you there,” She approached him, keeping a close eye on him as she walked. “What did you see?”

He wondered if he could overpower her in the moment that she gestured him to move back towards where they’d come from. But Jared had never used his full strength on a person before, he didn’t know the limits people could take. He kept his arms up as he started to move with a resigned expression. It was his reality now, he was now in the same boat as the other kidnapped person, only worse was that he was likely expendable since he wasn’t the target. “Does it matter when we’re headed back there anyway?” he wondered aloud before cringing, he didn’t want to be so rude, especially in such risky company but he was having a hard time focusing on his mouth with the gun in his direction. “I mean, I swear not a lot!”

“Yeah, it does,” Dot answered, annoyed. She’d keep this one in the back if he hadn’t seen too much. If he was just a nosy dude who was looking for fun that would change things too. “Well, not a lot, is still some.” She considered the situation for a moment as they walked. She had all the power here. “So, why shouldn’t I just shoot you and get this over with?” She asked. She didn’t want to deal with that, but she sure as fuck wanted to remind him that he had to give her something good to get out of this.

Jared grew a little frantic the closer to the warehouse they got. For some reason the closer the building became the more he felt like he was walking to his death. What use would this person have of him? None. In fact in every movie he’d ever seen of this same scene the witness was most likely to be shot for the shock value for the other captive. His heart sped up to unnatural speeds and he stopped at the door to look at his captor. “Fuck please don’t shoot me, I have kids at home! My kids need me, they have no one else to care for them!”

He had kids, how tragic. Dot rolled her eyes so hard her headache got worse. “Who will feed your poor children without you. Don’t look into random fucking warehouses then.” She waved her gun around a bit,“I’m asking you one more time, why shouldn’t I just get rid of you? Make it something that will help me. I don’t give a fuck about sob stories.” If he mentioned his kids again, she might just shoot him in the foot for fun.

Was Jared too proud to get on his knees and grovel for his life? No. However, if she wasn’t into sob stories he doubted that would win him any points with her either. Not that his admission of having dependent animals that needed him was a sob story in his eyes. He just didn’t want to leave Nell or Alcher a mess to care for. He had so many new critters on the farm lately he didn’t even know if he could house them all peacefully yet. So he changed tactics. His heart hammered still, but he tried again “I don’t have money, but I do have contacts, I have products, I have services to trade for my life. I…..I could owe you one...I could promise to owe you something?” It was dangerous, but the situation felt like it was getting a little fraught as she didn’t seem to be wanting to barter for long.

A promise. Dot's face broke into a shark smile. She had only recently found out about promises. Now, this was better than she expected. She had assumed she would be getting a few hundred dollars and maybe something cool from this. A promise was much more important to her. “Oh, I’ll take a promise. That means you’re Fae huh?” She asked, knowing that if he was just some human, that promise would mean nothing. “You’ll owe me anything I ask from you?”

Jared was sweating, as soon as she asked for clarification of what he was he knew he’d made a mistake. But at the same time, her knowing was surely the same sort of danger as if she decided to shoot him now. He was gone either way if she wanted rid of him. A promise might buy him time before she rid herself of him, so he had that lovely thought at least. “Yeah I’m fae. I promise-” he swallowed nervously. “I promise to owe you a favour whenever you ask me, in exchange for letting me live.” perhaps his wording would help him. Maybe it would stop her eliminating him later. He could only hope, he was truly confused about how fae promises worked himself.

Dot hadn’t thought that much would come from this job, but oh how wrong she was. This was an excellent outcome for her. A fae owed her now. She was sure that she would use him for something very fun. “I’ll take it,” She told him gleefully. Waving the gun at him, “Alright, you get to live so get out of here and don’t tell anyone shit.” As long as no one found out that he had been here, she was golden. What a fucking delight of a day this had turned out.

#P: Chatzy #C: Dot #c: jared #gun violence tw #kidnapping tw

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

PROMPT TIME BABE. Give us some WereNorman being assisted by Sammy and Abby in escaping captivity in big wolf form. Who then takes them away to his pack to meet and get Sammy red as the wolf turns back to a hot man.

This took an unexpected turn, so it's not exactly what you asked. Still good I promise!

Summary: Sammy was pretty sure this was a fairytale in the making. He'd always dreamt of moving to the city and starting a career as a prestigious musician, adored by all for his magnificent compositions, far away from his father's cattle ranch and especially from the reach of his witch of a step-mother. Usually though, fairytales tended to send a fairy godmother to one's aid, not an intelligent and positively massive wolf...

---

[[MORE]]

There was a part of Samuel Lawrence Jr that felt like he'd missed out on something very big. An opportunity to achieve more, rather than end up where he was now. Still living in the ranch he'd called a home since birth. Granted his little family had changed after his mother's passing, his father welcoming another woman into his life and both baring a little sister that Sammy often looked after himself.

It wasn't too bad of a life. He worked hard and got to reap the fruits of his labour without much hassle, but it felt... Incomplete. Like he could be more than another simple farmer.

He could have been great.

"I think you're bored of it all." Abigail once said, as both sat by this one big and very old tree that he'd play his banjo under, after escaping the scrutiny of his parents. His little sanctuary of sorts, in the form of a dried up husk home to god only knew what critters. "You're an adult now, and you've never really got to go farther than the town nearby."

"Not for a lack of trying..." he sighed. He'd wanted to leave many times, but there was always an excuse keeping him tied. His father's age, the need to keep the ranch in good condition, his step-mother's discouraging and downright abusive insults... He couldn't leave as he pleased. He was bound by duty.

"Maybe one day you'll get your lucky break." She offered one of her sweet little smiles, the ones that tried to offer him her unending optimism. "Maybe we both will... The ranch is beautiful and all, but I'd like to see the world and make friends."

They couldn't have imagined that their lucky break was indeed just over the horizon. Nearing with each nightfall and each changing phase of the moon. Until one night, it finally presented itself.

Sammy jolted out of bed when he heard gunshots. The moon was at its fullest and brightest, and he cursed as the light stung his eyes ever so slightly. He'd left his window open to let in the cool breeze, since his room often got stuffy.

Pulling on his coat and boots, the blond rushed downstairs and grabbed his gun, wondering if someone had come back to steal more chickens like in the last few months. His father had sworn he'd shoot dead whichever son of a bitch tried to mess with his coops again.

To Sammy's surprise the gunshots stopped as quickly as they began, and he found Samuel Sr barricading the barn from outside.

"What's going on?" He asked, noticing that Abigail had come to investigate the ruckus, while her mother watched from the window.

"A wolf. A whole mountain of a fucking beast was stealing the hens!" Their father hissed as he made sure the lock was in place. "Need my bigger gun. Fucker ain't leaving my farm with his life!"

He ran back inside, presumably to look for his bigger gun. The one he kept in a safe in his room for reasons Sammy never quite understood. His step-mother retreated from the window, closing the shutters with a slam. Leaving Sammy and Abby alone to look at each other.

"... We're not just letting dad kill a wolf, right?" The girl asked, looking mildly put off.

"I mean... It was stealing chickens." He shrugged. He was pretty sure it wasn't illegal to kill wolves, even if they were becoming a bit of a rare sight these days.

"It was probably just hungry! We can't punish an animal for doing what it has to survive!" Abigail pouted. "It's like if dad shot me for eating all the chocolate spread."

"It's not the same, and I knew you'd done it you little scamp!" He glared slightly in annoyance before shaking his head. "What do you propose? That we break a window in the back and just let it run free?"

"Yes! That's a great idea! Maybe it won't come back after such a fright." Abigail smiled brightly at him and Sammy had a feeling her optimism knew as much sanity as it knew an end. This was a crazy idea.

"Abby..."

"Please Sammy...?" She looked at him pleadingly. How could he resist that face?

So here he was, at the back of the barn pushing over a stack of hay that obscured one of the larger windows.

"This better be worth it and the mutt better have some sense and run off..." Not a minute after, something truly massive jumped out of the now open window and stared at both of them. It was a tremendously large black wolf, as black as tar, with coarse fur and a single yellow eye. Sammy's blood ran cold once he realized that from sheer size and muscle it could easily overpower the big old ornery bull his father used to breed his cows.

Instead of displaying any form of aggression however, the beast stared at them both, nodded its head in a rather human fashion, and offered them a paw (which Sammy noted looked disturbingly humanoid in its shape).

"I..."

"He's offering to shake...?" Abigail was just as confused by the creature's behaviour. "I think... I think it would be rude not to accept?"

"Well... I... Sure, this might as well happen." He took the offered paw. Next thing he knew, both he and Abigal were being carried away by a bipedal thing that looked like a wolf, but sure as hell didn't act like one.

Sammy was pretty sure this was a fairytale in the making. He'd always dreamt of moving to the city and starting a career as a prestigious musician, adored by all for his magnificent compositions, far away from his father's cattle ranch and especially from the reach of his witch of a step-mother. Usually though, fairytales tended to send a fairy godmother to one's aid, not an intelligent and positively massive wolf...

Said creature ran pretty quickly on its hind legs while carrying a young adult and a teenager. Both who were too stunned to even make a peep.

They weren't even sure where they were, since they'd never really ventured so far into the woods before.

After what seemed like an eternity, they stopped by a tree stump. The wolf set them down and stretched, before motioning for them to stay put and going towards a small pond to take a drink.

".... Abigail?"

"Yes?"

"I'm never relenting to any of your requests ever again..."

"That's fair."

The wolf returned, tail wagging like a pleased dog. It appeared to be gesturing strangely at them, which left both scratching their heads in confusion. Noticing their looks, the wolf smacked its own muzzle and then proceeded to write in the dirt with it's big dirty claws.

'Thank you kindly, you folks saved my hide.'

"Oh my god it can write..." Sammy put his face in his hands. The absurdity of it all was making him feel hysterical.

The wolf wrote once more.

'Of course I can write. You never seen a werewolf before?'

"A werewolf!" Abigail gawked "I thought those weren't real..."

"They're not. I probably just hit my head and am hallucinating all of this..." He yelled once she'd pinched him. The wolf was still there and staring at him with what appeared to be an unamused look on its face. "Or maybe not..."

'You done?' it wrote, sounding quite sassy without even needing to vocalize it. 'As I was saying, you folks saved my hide, so I'm in your debt.'

"Debt? What do you mean...? Like, a favour for a favour?" Abigail frowned "We were just doing what was right, even though you were kind of stealing from us."

'Which is why I'm in your debt. I wronged you, but you still chose to be merciful. As such I'm offering you both my services.' the wolf bowed, and the two noted the pale spot on its chest just below its neck that made it look like it was wearing some sort of cravat. 'If you graciously accept, I will consult with my pack so as to request some leave for a while until I repay you in kind.'

"Is any of this necessary?" Sammy gulped. Having an intelligent wolf working for them felt a little odd.

'Very. It's the proper etiquette for us wolves. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Be it in the good or bad sense.' the wolf bowed again. 'I was raised properly, unlike some of the other brutes that call themselves real wolves... A bunch of fools is what they are. Getting shot at and giving us all a bad name.'

Ironic considering he'd been stealing from a ranch and got shot at himself.

"I think it'd be rude not to accept such an offer." Abby finally said.

"Abigail!"

"Sammy, this is what we've been waiting for! If he can help us get to the big city, we could really start our lives!" The girl insisted. "Don't you want to be happy?"

'The big city uh? I got a home in New York, I could definitely show you kind folk around.'

"How does a wolf get a house in New York City?!" Sammy was a little incredulous at the claim.

'I'm only a wolf once a month, that's how. The commute to these parts is hell with how traffic is like there. Takes about three days to get here, and I usually spend the end of the month with my pack.' the wolf huffed 'Which is why I'm consulting with them if you accept. Deal, or no deal?'

Abigail stared at her brother pleadingly, and even the wolf's gaze was glued to him. Sammy didn't see a way out of this, and then again did he really want to?

"Fine, but we need to pack up..."

"Great!"

'Excellent, sun will be up in a few. I'll take you back to your home and meet with you in the morning. Keep a look out for a Norman Polk.'

And so it was.

The wolf snuck them back to the ranch, where they packed up their things as their father searched frantically for the escaped wolf. Once they were done, Abigail snuck their bags to the big tree they hung out by, and both sought out their father, explaining the beast had fled and they'd tried to chase it to no avail.

In the morning they are breakfast as usual, got washed up and dressed, then waited.

Near sundown, a tall and rather handsome man with only one eye approached them.

"Norman Polk?" Sammy asked.

"In the human meatsuit." The man bowed, grinning rather wolfishly. "Yous ready to depart?"

"Yes." Both replied giddily.

"Great. Let's get goin', before your crazy pa comes out with that bigass gun o' his..."

This really was like a fairytale. Where they got their happy ending thanks to a kindly entity that respected the olden rules of equivalent exchange.

Except instead of a fairy godmother, Sammy and Abby ended up with a werewolf indebted to them. A new start seemed like fair enough of an arrangement to repay them fully.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Sammy Lawrence #Norman Polk

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weshallc · 4 years

Text

Easter Bernie.

(call the Midwife AU/ Crown Jewels Easter Special/ also available on FF & A03)

HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE 🐰🐥🐣🐤🦆🕊🦙😘🤗

CHAPTER FOUR: EASTER SUNDAY.

Here's someone who really loves you. Don't ever go away.That's what these walls would say. (If These Old Walls Could Speak, Jimmy Webb)

“Right over left, round and then through,” Fred repeated again, as he secured Reggie’s tie. “You will get the hang of it son, easy when you knows how.”

“Thanks Uncle Fred,” Reggie was determined, he would master the tricky accessory by the end of the day. It couldn’t be more of a skill then changing a beer barrel and he could do that.

“Oh, look at you two, all suited and booted, don’t you look smart,” Violet emerged from the Crown kitchen, wearing the dress and coat she had worn for Chummy’s wedding.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Violet,” beamed a perfectly groomed Val in a coral trouser suit and cream silken vest top.

“Who has one of those phone things that takes a picture?” Evie asked, smoothing down a new floral dress she had treat herself to.

“Everyone Evie,” Val laughed, “Except you and Paddy.”

“Must be a pub thing,” added Jack, coming through the door, to cries of dismay.

“Jack, you are in jeans,” cried Vi.

“Talk about letting the side down,” remarked Fred.

Jack looked abashed, but added, “Thought I would stay behind, make sure no-one breaks in and steals all the eggs.”

“Jack, you know Paddy want’s us all to attend Easter Service this morning. If we are having a joint Easter Festival this year, it starts at ten o’clock at St. Preservus,” admonished Vi.

Jack looked at his trainers that were at least clean.

“Let’s say no more about it, you will have to do,” Evie concluded.

The last member of the party had arrived through the door marked Private, that led to the living quarters of the Crown. Paddy gave a harsh look at Jack, but said nothing.

“You always scrub up well Mr T, you should wear suits more often,” blushed Vi followed by Paddy.

Val brought him back down to earth, “Would you like me to do your hair?”

Paddy gave Val the look reserved just for her and her cheek, the one that kept her quiet for about five seconds.

“Right then, is everybody ready?” another glance at a fidgety Jack, Paddy continued, “Bernie and Tim are meeting us there.”

xxxx

The Crown seven shuffled into the the pew at the back of Saint Preservus, led in by Vi and ushered in by Paddy bringing up the rear.

“Hello, I see the naughty pew has been taken this morning,” beamed Peter Noakes, ”that is usually reserved for the Noakes family.”

“Have we stolen your seat?” laughed Paddy.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t the Crown, there won’t be a fight,” joked Peter as he and Camilla sat in front. Phyllis accompanying Lady Keville with aromatherapist Jane Sutton. “Looks like that’s the Crown pew this morning,” Phyllis winked at Paddy.

“Shove up!” the southern accent demanded, faintly attempting the local dialect.

“Trixie, that’s the pub pew this morning, come and join us,” Chummy suggested.

Paddy had already shifted for Trixie to sit down,

“I am representing Bernie,” Trixie grinned.

“Trixie is Team Crown,” Val added on the other side of Paddy.

“You ready for today, Trixie?” Paddy asked.

“I think so, I have some understanding of an egg hunt and even the hill rolling, but jarping remains a mystery to me,” Trixie informed him in all seriousness.

Paddy leaned in and kept his voice low, aware of his surroundings.

“Right then, the Crown and Church Easter Jarping Tournament, or as it was formerly known, the Crown Inn Easter Jarping Tournament, it's very easy to understand the rules.”

“I believe you,” Trixie smiled, but did not laugh.

“I think so?” she whispered back, her cheeks slightly flushed. Paddy swallowed and continued at the lower vibration.

“The pair then swap places and repeat this series of events. Everyone has a turn with everyone else. Once both tips of your egg are cracked you are eliminated. The winner is the final competitor to have at least one end in tact.”

Timothy Turner sat at the organ, couldn’t help turn toward the back of the church to see where all the sniggering was coming from. To be honest, he knew exactly where the laughter was coming from, but he had to look. Lucille, in front of her choir, exchanged glances with him and they shrugged their shoulders. He looked at Bernie who was shaking her head and glaring at the back of the church. Tom Hereward was looking a little flushed and said, “Shall we begin.”

xxxx

Back at the Crown it was all stations go. Violet gave a wicker basket to Fred.

“These are the onion peel dyed eggs, for egg rolling down Crown Bank. Take them to the back of the pub and remember it is one egg per child.”

“I wondered where that pong of onions was coming from, they do look pretty though, but don’t half pen and ink,” the brewer preferred a more hoppy odour.

“Jack, you take these plain eggs to the beer garden, there is a table set up with colouring pens and markers for the more artistic types. Remember one egg per child,” Jack nodded at Violet to reassure her he had got it.

“I think it was Tim and Lucille who hid them, so should be all right Vi,” Val reassured with a wink.

xxxx

“So I just drop my egg down the bank?”

“Trixie, you must have rolled an Easter Egg before?” Bernie thought her friend was deliberately being dense.

“You mean one smelling of onions, can’t say I have,” Poplar's latest resident snapped back.

“No wonder we want to shot them away down the hill,” laughed Fred.

“What is the point?” Trixie wasn’t satisfied.

“It’s just a laugh, you race your pals and see how many times you can roll it, before it cracks,” Bernie was losing patience.

Fred feeling a bit awkward himself with the tactileness of the moment, nodded at Trixie,

“Better get a move on love, don’t want to miss the start of the duck race.”

“Sorry?”

“The duck race down the Tweaven, first duck to Mount Busby wins.”

Paddy interrupted, suddenly letting go of Bernie, who actually did stagger a few feet down hill before achieving traction. “My favourite bit,” he grinned.

“You race real ducks, that is medieval,” protested Trixie.

“This from the Poplar sheep rustler,” corrected Paddy.

Bernie saved the situation and herself from joining the eggs at the bottom of the hill,

“They are not real ducks, Trixie, you know those ones you put in your bath, those rubber ones. You put your mark on one and the first one Reggie spots at the farm, wins.”

“Who has a bath these days? Haven't you all got showers yet?” Trixie was confused.

Paddy huffed. Bernie added, “You might be the one at the farm, waiting for a duck next year.”

“I don’t think that is in my job description,” Trixie added, but she didn’t look convinced.

Fred and Paddy were trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face, “Fancy a pint, Fred?”

“Not arf, Doc,” he replied already heading for the pub.

“You are all as cracked as these eggs,” Trixie said delicately tossing her egg southwards.

xxxx

Trixie walked back to the front of the Crown and wondered if she was doing the right thing moving to potty Poplar. She made her way to the beer garden and was surprised to see her new employers surrounded by sticky fingers and loud chatter. Turner Prize nominee Patience Mount, was decorating eggs with the village children. She was helping a few of the Sunday School class with their fragile Easter bonnets, some of which looked more like caps or helmets.

Trixie was feeling a little bit lost. Bernie had returned from the egg rolling in one piece and was now interrogating Paddy, “What were you all laughing at in church, tell me?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he winked at Trixie.

Trixie grinned, “I feel like a vegan in the hen house. What can I do, to help at my first Poplar Easter Festival?”

“Well you are good at sales, you can be in charge of the raffle,” Paddy said as if he had given her the combination to his safe.

Val placed on the bar a huge cuddly grey and white rabbit, holding a large gold foil covered chocolate egg. Trixie forced a smile.

Valerie passed Trixie a tupperware box full of coins “A float; to get you started, they always come with notes.” Trixie smiled a little bit.

xxxx

The sun was lowering behind the Cleveland Hills, cooling the Crown beer garden. The last of the tables had been cleared and the clutter added to the recycling bin. Val was taking orders for drinks, the children had all gone home. The Two Loves had taken Antonia back to Bagnall Hall. Trixie sat proudly admiring a brightly decorated toilet roll inner with a bright yellow toy chick with a wonky beak, stuck on the top with blu-tack.

“I can’t believe you won the Egg Jarping, Trixie,” Bernie shook her head.

“Beginners luck,” shouted an envious Jack.

“Expert training,” suggested Paddy.

“What are you going to do with your trophy, Trixie?” laughed Val

“Put it on top of Bernie’s telly,” Trixie said emphatically.

“That monstrosity is not coming into my house,” Bernie cried in mock indignation.

“Oi, Tim made that,” Paddy yelled.

“About ten years ago, Dad!” Tim blushed in horror. Lucille and Jack’s laughter adding insult to injury.

Tom and Bobby and baby Hereward appeared, it was the first time they had been seen since church. They had been overseeing the egg hunt around the village and offering refreshments at the church, a role Bernie had envied.

“The church is locked up and the village is litter free,” explained Bobby to Julia who was sipping on a Crabbies ginger beer, emphasis on the beer.

“Splendid, everyone has worked so hard today,” Julia commented. “That little one looks tired,” she added, observing a grouchy baby in Bobby’s arms.

“She actually needs changing,” Bobby explained.

Val who was passing Evie a pint of Easter Egg Ale informed the young mother, “The toilets are just inside Mrs Hereward, the changing facilities are in there.”

“Oh thanks,Valerie,” said Bobby and moved toward the backdoor.

Tom held up a hand, “We should really be getting home, love.”

“Aren't you two stopping for a drink, we’ve all earned it,” asked Julia taking another sip of her memory.

“No, we better get home and get this little madam seen to,” Tom laughed weakly.

“Be quicker, just to change her here if she's uncomfortable?” Phyllis sipping on a double brandy offered.

“I would rather we went home,” replied Tom curtly.

“The facilities here are excellent. I should know, I make sure they are spotless every morning,” Evie’s tone held authority.

“But it is 6pm,” Tom’s voice had a higher pitch now.

“Bernie or myself check the loos every hour, if you look on the door, we have to sign to say everything is in order,” Val couldn’t keep quite any longer.

“Look you’re all very kind, but I don't want my daughter being changed in a pub toilet,” Tom’s voice was adamant.

Evie looked as if she was about to combust.

Julia intervened, “Tom, maybe you should get your family home, we have all had a long day.”

“And confusing. I am sorry but I really haven’t seen the point of this. We welcomed everyone to church this morning, for the most important date in the Christian calendar, and then chased them all to the pub. Where is the message in that?”

The youth ministers words left the beer garden in a dense fog of discomfort. Julia looked lost for a moment, it was Phyllis who spoke up,

“Today was about community lad, bringing the village and the wider area together. These two buildings have been central to this village for over 300 years. It’s about time they came together.”

Phyllis had given Julia time to compose herself, “We will discuss the issues you have raised concerning a joint festival in a meeting tomorrow, Mr Hereward.”

Baby Hereward was becoming more grumpy and Bobby was struggling to placate her. Paddy who had been very quiet through this most recent exchange of views, offered quietly,

“Mrs Herward, your daughter seems very unhappy. Would you like to take her upstairs to the flat? Where you can have ample space and privacy.”

”Lets go Bobby, I will see you tomorrow, Reverend,” Tom nodded at Julia, Bobby didn’t have time to acknowledge Paddy’s offer, as she was pushed by her husband towards the door.

Someone with not the longest fuse in Poplar, had sweaty palms and a racing heart and a mouth she couldn’t keep shut,

“If yer have issues with the joint festival then that is fine Mr Hereward, as Reverend Lewis said that needs to be discussed between you tomorrow.” Everyone recognised the north of the border twang, that wasn’t done yet.

“But I have issue with your attitude right now concerning this house, it is so much more than an ale house, it’s a place where people work, it is a home.” Tom stopped in his tracks, Bernie went on,

“Your place of work just happens to be the House of God, now we were invited into that house this morning and everyone here, acted in a respectful manner.” Bernie took a breath, there was some awkward shuffling on the garden benches. She was on a roll though,

Tim wished at this point, that people would just remember who he was, and not feel the need to check by staring at him. Fortunately Bernie went on,

“Surely what matters is not whether it is a House of Prayer or a House of Refreshment, but a House of Love. And you can take my word for it, for what that may be worth, this house is just that. There is so much love in this house, I am only sorry yer canae feel it.”

xxxxx

“I am barred from St Preservus.That’s the Mission I have offended and the church in one week,” Bernie complained.

There was only her and Paddy now. The sun had gone to its rest behind the hills. They sat on Frank and Peggy’s bench sharing a secret ciggie, Bernie perched on Paddy’s knee.

“Nonsense, Julia totally supported you. It’s Mr Hereward who should be worried and as for the Mission, does that really matter now, Bernie?”

“Mr. Hereward is young and idealistic, everything is black and white to him, I used to know someone else like that,” she smiled stubbing out the butt of the fag, they hoped Tim would never know about.

“What happened to her?” Paddy said turning her face gently towards his with both hands.

“She came home,” she smiled and kissed him tenderly, in a way that she was just beginning to understand.

“You know what I do want?” she kissed him on the forehead and pushed back his unruly hair. He just raised both eyebrows saying tell me?

“Are those pink wafers still behind the bar?”

“Go see,” he laughed, helping her off his knee.

Bernie almost ran to the bar, she found a package wrapped in gold foil with a red bow. She ripped open recklessly the carefully wrapped box. Only to find a large brightly coloured tin which read Huntley and Palmer Superior Biscuits. Bernie’s expression looked like it was Christmas, birthdays and Easter all at once.

“Paddy, I bloody love you.”

Paddy smiled, “Happy Easter, Bernie,”

#call the midwife #easter bernie #happy easter #she has come along way our lass #egg jarping anyone

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ledenews · 1 year

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Learning the Legends of Lewis Wetzel and His Cave

Photography by Raina Burke He owned no cabin and no farm, and he didn’t have a job either. He just killed and that made other settlers feel safe, so Lewis Wetzel continued to avenge his father’s, brother’s, and sister’s deaths in 1786 by collecting the scalps once owned by enemies. His father, John Wetzel, colonized Wheeling the same time the Zane clan did, and in 1782, a 19-year-old Lewis joined the same fight for Fort Henry when Betty Zane made her historic run for gunpowder. He was the fourth of seven children, and he was a hero to the white man and a murderer to the natives. It was the days of the Revolutionary War Era, a time celebrated for the growth of American colonization because the horrors of invasion were costumed as necessary. Lewis Wetzel Cave has been the site for several paranormal investigations as well as a destination for local explorers. “There are many stories about the battles that were fought in this area and we tell many of those stories still,” said David Perri, one of the organizers of the annual Fort Henry Days. “The stories about Lewis Wetzel, though, are usually shorter because he usually was the only one around when he attacked because that’s how he worked. “He helped defend Fort Henry in 1782 because that battle was a community effort and he was nearby at the time,” he explained. “But that was rare, according to the records we have to work with now. Most of the time, by all accounts, Lewis Wetzel was just out there looking for more because there were not enough braves he could kill to get revenge for his father and his brother.” One place where Wetzel resided was a cavern that since has taken his name. He was told of a suspicious turkey call heard consistently along the waterway now known as Big Wheeling Creek, so he tracked it to an overgrown area about 60 feet above the tributary. According to the legend, Wetzel then shot to death a native who emerged from behind the bushes and vines to squall the call one final time. Wetzel quickly discovered the brave had been living in a cave. Some areas of the interior are tall yet narrow for those who have ventured inside. A Creation of Time There are no historical markers and no such protections either. There is, though, a path worn by the curious. The entrance is narrow. The interior is pitch black. Once inside, voices echo without offering a sense of direction. There are critter bones scattered about, and level ground is rare. Some areas are five feet high, others two, and one area extends 165 feet in length. Over the years, some areas of the cave have been named by amateur adventurers including “Flintlock Hall,” a carved clearance measuring 10 feet wide, 11 feet high, and 60 feet long. There’s also “The Hideaway,” “The Attic,” and “The Getaway.” Raina Burke, a local physician and parent of daughters who attend Wheeling Country Day School, is assisting this academic year with the teaching of West Virginia history to eighth graders. She and her husband, Steve, recently ventured to the Lewis Wetzel Cave with four students, including their daughters Jules and Sydney, and Ella Landini, Mac Parsons, and Micah Dodd. Ella Landini travels through a portion of the cave during the recent West Virginia Club tour. “That was the second time I’ve been in there and my husband has researched it pretty extensively,” Burke said. “The first impression I have had each time is that it is bigger than you imagine before going in, and that it just goes on and on, too. The hallway is really, really long and there are turns you can take, too, as long you remember to watch the ceilings because they get pretty low in some areas. “This most recent time we didn’t stay in the cave for a real long time because one the kids got a little anxious because of claustrophobia, but it’s still a fascinating thing to see,” she continued. “There are signs people have been in there, of course, but just to see what nature created is pretty fascinating to me.” The students also will visit Independence Hall in downtown Wheeling, the former W.Va. Penitentiary in Moundsville, and the town of West Liberty since it is the eldest of all Northern Panhandle communities. At Country Day, the class is known as West Virginia Club, and it is a more engaging version of the historical lessons learned by most Mountain State children. “Anyone who grew up in the state of West Virginia remembers having West Virginia History in the eighth grade, but at Country Day we’re doing it differently than when I was in eighth grade at Bridge Street. We didn’t take any field trips back then,’” Burke explained. “So, while we’re learning about the state, we go to places where some of the history has taken place, and the Lewis Wetzel Cave is one of those places. “We’ve just started visiting these locations and along with the caves we’ve gone to the Mound in Moundsville, and we’ll go to Independence Hall and a few other historical places in the area,” she said. “It’s more enjoyable to learn by visiting the actual places than just reading about them in a book, so we’ll go to as many as we can before it’s time to take the Golden Horseshoe test.” This rendering of Lewis Wetzel is based on historical accounts recorded over the past century. Hero or Villain? His eyes were said to be jet black and his dark hair was down to his knees, and Lewis Wetzel was best known for being able to reload his rifle while running in the woods. The difference with him, however, was that he wasn’t running away but instead toward his next fight. His primary enemy in the Wheeling region was the Wyandot tribe, and he utilized the perch from the cave to scout natives traveling along the creek while hunting the next meal. The entire cave rests in sandstone of the Conemaugh Series of the Pennsylvanian System, according to information archived by the Ohio County Public Library. The Lewis Wetzel Cave, the website states, was formed by the faulting of this rock as a result of Wheeling Creek downcutting into its own valley. And Wetzel used it to assassinate at least 10 natives. “You can read about Lewis Wetzel and why this is known as his cave, but once you see what he saw from where the opening of the cave is, you quickly come to understand why he spent so much time looking for the Natives who were hunting him, too,” Burke said. “It was a place of safety for Lewis Wetzel, and the area is very interesting because of the cave but also because of the overlook area that has a naturally made sunlight.” Steve Burke photographed the students near a lookout area that was formed by nature. Lewis Wetzel died from “yellow fever” in 1808 at the age of 45 at a cousin’s homestead in Mississippi, and his remains were moved to the McCreary Cemetery in Marshall County in 1942. Wetzel’s grave now is adjacent to his brother Martin and near the land that has become the Hare Krishna community known as “New Vrindaban.” His nickname in the Wheeling area was “The Death Wind,” and that’s because legend has it, the frontiersman collected more than 30 scalps before leaving for the Louisiana Territory in the late 1700s to earn a living as a hunter and trapper. “I’ve heard during my lifetime that he was something of a maniac,” Burke said. “But I’ve also heard the white settlers loved him and they were thankful because they were protected and he made them feel safe at a time no one knew what was going to happen next. “It was a very different time back then and that’s why we brought the students here to learn it with a very hands-on experience,” she added. “They know what Lewis Wetzel did back then would have made him a serial killer today, but they also know now it’s what he had to do to survive because life was a really different experience. For a while, he had to live in a cave and now they’ve seen it for themselves.” Read the full article

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