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stillebesat · 3 years

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Christmas Eve (3/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk Taglist in Reblog To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2

He supposed it was the shock of Roman actually helping him that allowed his Ex to drag him halfway through the store before Janus remembered he didn’t have to be complacent in this.

“Seriously.” He rasped, jerking his arm, finding it difficult to focus on anything more than the burning grip of Roman’s hand around his wrist. “You don’t have to do this.”

It sounded so flimsy soo--so trite. So insincere. Even to his own ears. Roman had to be dissecting his words and tone even now, searching for the trick--the manipulation he had used as easily as a fish breathed water all throughout his--well his entire life, even if Roman had only experienced it first hand for a couple of years during college.

With that sort of bad history between them...of all the possibilities that had flashed through his mind when he and Roman had made eye contact...having him actually help them had never--well it had--briefly. Very very briefly. Crossed his mind. But it had been a fool’s hope. Not when their relationship had ended more explosively than the grand finale of a firework show.

“I--” He swallowed trying again as he adjusted Pattey’s weight on his hip. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured them meeting again. He wasn’t ready for this. “We really can just leave. He’ll understand.” His son knew all too well about his history with the Prince even if it was just through bedtime stories. “You don’t have to--”

“Shut up, Dragon Witch.” Roman growled, tugging him around a corner. “I don’t want to either. But I’m not heartless.”

“You’re not.” He agreed. Roman was anything but that. He was good. He’d been the best thing that had happened to him before Patton came into his life, and Janus had taken advantage of that in the worst ways possible, using him and then tossing him away like so much trash without realizing what a treasure Roman actually was. “But you don’t have to force yourself on my--” Janus cut off as a small hand covered his mouth, his son’s bright eyes filled with excitement.

“Shh, Daddy.” He patted his lips. “You told me if a Prince offers to help you, you let him help! You don’t say no.”

Yes. But he hadn’t meant that to apply to himself! What he’d done--it could be considered unforgivable. No one should be treated how he’d treated Roman--or well, any of his former relationships. It had taken Patton’s birth to get him to...stop. To want to change. To be better.

Roman had the gall to smirk at him as he stopped in front of a display of cages, letting go of Janus’s wrist so he could fish out a set of keys from his pocket. “Correct, little man. It’s a Prince’s duty to help all those he encounters in distress….even if the fair damsel turns out to be a---.”

“Aaraog!” Patton piped up.

Roman froze, looking nonplussed at the nonsequir. “Aaraog?”

“You can’t trust them. They’re Evil.” Patton said solemnly before bouncing in Janus’s arms as he stared eagerly into the cages. “Daddy says that even though the Dragon Witch is a jerk, he still occasionally helps the Prince! And so they can’t be meanies to each other all the time like Aaraog sooo if the Prince can help the Dragon Witch then you, Prince--”

“Roman.” Janus said softly, the name feeling like he was tasting the forbidden fruit as it rolled off his tongue. He looked away as his Ex shot him a dark look. Yah...he didn’t think they were on first name terms anymore, hence why he only ever called the Prince...well Prince. But Pattey had been upset that the Dragon Witch always fought with the Prince and always lost...so he’d told a slightly different story from the usual, using a giant spider as the villain instead. It’d been... a kind of self wish of his. Where he hoped things would eventually...maybe...work out.

“Prince Roman! And my Daddy can be friends today too as you help!”

Ha. That would be the day. He wasn’t a fool enough to believe them rekindling any sort of...friendship...would ever actually happen. Even if he wanted a redo...he was pretty sure he’d burned that bridge and then buried the ashes in a pit a hundred feet deep back in college.

“I--I--don’t think he’s...uh...I’m sure the Dragon Witch can be...nice.” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.

And Janus was a platypus. “Liar.” He mumbled. Roman had only ever known his manipulative nice. Not his genuine niceness. How could he? Janus had only learned how to be so after Patton had said his first word. Years after everything had...ended between them.

“You’re one to talk.” Roman hissed.

“Yes and?”

Pattey looked between the two of them, before deciding that comforting his Dad was needed. His little hands squished Janus’s cheeks. “But Daddy isn’t a true Dragon Witch!” He said firmly, maintaining eye contact before he flashed his hundred watt smile, succeeding in melting Janus’s heart once again. “He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole world! Even if he doesn’t think so.”

Janus flushed. “Liar.” He repeated. He was sure there were plenty of other Dads who were far better than he could ever be.

“Truther!” Patton grinned. “The best best best BEST Daddy!!”

He shook his head as Roman scoffed, hoping his face wasn’t as red as a tomato--this awkward encounter was only going to get much worse if he didn’t hurry this up. Janus quickly set his son down, pushing him towards the cage his Ex had unlocked.

“Go pick one you like.” He encouraged, staying crouched to discourage Roman from talking to him even if it did mean his Ex would be hovering over him like the Sword of Damocles. It wasn’t ideal, but it would hopefully keep himself from saying something he would regret and get them kicked out before he could buy a Frogmin for his son.

After all, Roman had to only be helping him on Patton’s behalf. If his kid hadn’t been here he was sure his Ex would have taken one look at him and thrown him right back out, no questions asked. So the sooner they could get out of here the sooner they both could forget this whole encounter.

Not that Janus would be able to forget. Not when Pattey usually demanded a Prince story for bedtime.

“Oh!!!” Patton pressed his face against the glass where little multi-colored frog-like humans crouched among the branches inside the cage. “Look at them, Daddy!!! LOOK! FROGMINS!! They’re here! AWWWWWW. Look at their cute little spots!!”

Janus let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. Finally. After fifteen stores he could finally make good on his promise to his son.

“Careful. You don’t want to scare them.” Roman said, also kneeling down, keeping Pattey between them as he pointed to the half dozen Frogmins inside. “While they have frog characteristics, it’s easier to think of them as mini people. And some of them can get really scared when a giant face suddenly appears in front of them.”

His son’s eyes went wide. “Noooo. I don’t wanna scare them!” Pattey leaned back, wrapping his arms around himself as he twisted back and forth. “They’re just sooo cool! And so Princely! Cus if you kiss one they can turn large and save the day! Like the stories! But I want mine to remain small, so I’ll be very careful in my kisses. And they can hop and climb walls like--” Patton made a face and Janus had to bite back a smile at his son’s reluctance to say Spiderman. “Like superheros!! And they eat bugs! Like...like!!!....like….spiders.” He shivered. “I don’t like them.”

Roman tilted his head, amber eyes flashing with understanding. “So you’re looking for a Frogmin to protect you from spiders?”

Pattey nodded hard enough he looked like a bobble head. “He’ll keep me safe while I sleep!”

Roman chuckled. “A good reason to get a Frogmin. Though not all of them like to eat spiders. Just like some little boys don’t like to eat their vegetables.”

His son grimaced. “But carrots are icky!!”

“And some Frogmins think spiders are icky too.” He said gently, opening a small hatch in the side of the cage where three of the Frogmins had already gathered. “While you can just pick one that you like the look of...you could also come over here and hold out your hands--don’t reach in, but hold out your hands and ask them if any of them would like to come live with you and eat spiders...or well, like to have them as a treat as I’m sure you don’t want to feed them dried ones.” He glanced over to Janus as he spoke.

Ha. No. While he did have some dried spiders waiting at home, there was no way he’d pull out any of the creatures...even dead ones...where his son could see. One meltdown at the first pet store had been enough to convince him why having his Lilypatton see spiders--dead or alive--was a bad idea.

Janus let out a slow breath as Pattey eagerly moved closer, his small hands held out to the opening.

“Do you guys like to eat spiders?” He whisper-shouted to the group. “If you do, we have plenty of them at home and I really really REALLY want you to eat ALL of them. Please? Pleeeease.”

And now Roman was going to think they lived in a haunted house or something. Really, it was more of an issue of all the spiders in their backyard instead of inside.

Janus shook his head, holding up a hand. “I have a variety of other dried insects to choose from at home if the one Pattey picks doesn’t like spiders.” He said, glancing at his Ex before turning his attention back to the cage, watching as more Frogmins crept out of the leaves towards his son.

Sure, he knew that Pattey wanted the Frogmin mostly for their ability to eat spiders--and their connection to Princes--but he wasn’t a fool to expect that to be the only food source.

Though knowing his luck, whichever one his son picked would be extremely picky and want to eat only the most expensive of the bugs.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You already have everything else as well? The cage?”

Janus rolled his eyes. Nooo he’d just spent months preparing and all day searching for a Frogmin and totally forgot about getting the creature a home to live in. “Yes.”

Roman pursed his lips, an obvious indication that he didn’t like the answer and stood, tilting his head down the aisle to where a variety of cages sat on the shelves. “Show me.”

To Be Continued. Part 4

#Christmas Eve #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Janus #Roman #Patton #Deceit #Creativity #Morality #Familial Moceit #Dad!Janus #Child!Patton #Past Toxic Relationship talk tw #Manipulation talk tw #Lying talk tw #Frogmin!AU #MythicalMin!AU #PetStore!AU

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ask-them-bois · 3 years

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Drowning in Sorrow

SW.pt.1 SW.pt.2 SW.pt.3

A bonus story on Fayroe’s fate!

Tw: Mentions of past abuse and past torture, mild blood, scars

TLDR: Makeno and Fayroe reunite.

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Makeno was jolted out of sleep by the sound of someone banging on the front door. He sat up slowly, partially untangling himself from his snoozing matesprit. He blinked several times, his thinkpan still sluggish from the rude awakening. A second round of frantic knocking had him getting up and getting pants on.

A third round started as he made his way downstairs. “Jegus, hold on, I’m coming!” He called, huffy, as he unlocked the locks and wrenched the door open. “Unless someone’s dying, I really don’t wanna be bothered on my night off, I only-”

Makeno’s voice went dead in his throat as he came face to face with the sight of Fayroe, covered in blood, sweat, and tears, standing on his doorstep.

What looked like deep bite marks and lacerations were scored all over the fuchsia’s chest, shoulders, and one was dangerously close to his throat, blood bubbling from his mouth and nose.

“M- Makey… I- I need your help-” Fayroe wheezed out, clutching at the larger wound, before Makeno slammed the door in their face.

The violetblood pressed himself up against the door, his blood-pumper hammering against his ribs. No- no no no no no no- this was not happening, this was NOT happening-!

“Ken-ken? Wha’s goin’ on?” Corden’s sleep-slurred voice startled Makeno out of his panic. He looked up, fins flaring, as Corden approached him from the stairs, blinking blearily.

“I- I- I-” Makeno tried, but his thinkpan was suddenly racing too fast for thoughts. He lurched away from the door and fled to the back of the hive as panic overtook him.

Corden jumped out of his way, bewildered. “Uh… okay.” Puzzled, he went to see for himself who was at the door.

Opening it, Corden found Fayroe, now collapsed on the porch and slumped against the wall. That certainly woke the robot up. He rubbed his eyes, just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Holy fuck.” He said at last, “Yeah, no, Ken-ken was in the right to flip like that. When he’s done it’s my turn.”

So saying, he turned away and disappeared back into the hive, before returning to the porch with a handheld medicalizer and a roll of gauze. He knelt down with a sigh, shaking his head.

Grumbling under their breath, Corden set about repairing the wounds and wrapping them. “How fucking dare you show up here, Fay. I mean, really, it’s just rude! Be glad Ken-ken tells me I’ve gotta be nice to others, otherwise I would have gone and just grabbed my bat. And not my lusus; I mean the one with barbed wire on it. What the fuck happened to you?” He muttered crossly, although he wasn’t expecting an answer.

Just as he was finishing up, Fayroe stirred. He let out a gurgling whimper, wincing as he was jostled slightly, before he managed to peel his eyes open. He squinted up at Corden, dazed. “… Wh… I know you…”

“You sure fucking do.” Corden hissed, making the fuchsia flinch.

“I… I need Makey’s help-”

“You need a lot of help, Fayroe, of several varieties, but you’re not getting Ken-ken.”

“You know Makey?” They asked, sounding faintly surprised.

“He’s my morail, dipshit.” Corden rolled his eyes.

Fayroe scowled. “How dare you-” They began, but their voice was still weak.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Fallen.” Corden snapped, cutting them off, as he got to his feet. “Stay.” He ordered, marching back inside. Fayroe didn’t have the strength to argue or protest.

Corden headed to the back of the hive. He knew exactly where Makeno had gone, and a muffled yell and thump confirmed it; the seadweller was in his studio. Changing course, they walked over to the block Makeno used to record music, and carefully opened the door.

“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!” The seadweller bellowed at full volume. Corden jumped back as the piano bench slammed into the wall beside the door, shattering into several pieces.

The studio was in shambles; recording equipment was busted apart and thrown everywhere, screens were shattered, notebooks torn to shreds and scattered. There were holes in the cushioned walls, where Makeno had punched straight through the padding. The only undamaged part of the block was the piano, which had been shoved against the wall.

Speak of the devil, Makeno stood in the middle of the room, facing away from the door, his shoulders heaving as he fought for breath and claws curled into fists at his sides. His fins were flared in a display of fury, his gills flapping weakly as they tried to suck in air.

Having destroyed the last thing he could throw, Makeno suddenly fell to his knees.

Snarling, Makeno punched the carpet, before scoring his claws across his chest; Corden didn’t need to see it to know he was clawing at the bubble tattoo. A sob ripped out of the seadweller’s throat, and he fell onto his hands, strangled hiccups in his throat.

“… Makeno?”

The seadweller whirled around on the gold, teeth bared. He froze as he recognized his morail, several emotions flickering past his face- anger, surprise, recognition, relief, and then… grief. Violet tears filled the seadweller’s eyes, but he bared his razor teeth again. “Get them out!” He snapped.

“He’s not even in the hive.” Corden said calmly, stepping into the block and shutting the door behind them.

“Then get him away!”

“He’s too hurt to move.”

“I don’t give a shit! Fucking kill them and drag their corpse over the cliff!” Makeno shouted. Corden said nothing, unflinchingly staring at his raging morail; old instincts had shut him down the moment he saw an angry highblood. Makeno’s breathing hitched as he recognized the empty look in the goldblood’s eyes.

All the fight suddenly went out of his body, and the seadweller hung his head. “… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I… please, Cordy, just get them-”

“As soon as I can move him, he’s gone.” Corden promised.

Makeno let out a whine, before rocking backwards to sit on his rump. He drew his knees up to his chest, pressing his forehead against them. After a moment, he let out a bitter laugh. “This fucking sucks. God damn it, I thought- I thought I was over this- I’m- I’m sorry, Cordy, I’m supposed to be the grown up here, the responsible one, and I’m having a tantrum like I’m six sweeps old because of my fucking ex, and I-”

“No one said you had to be the responsible one, Ken-ken.”

Makeno snorted. “I’ve got two jobs, a husband, a hive, and I take care of you. How could I not be the responsible one?”

Corden was silent for a moment. “Being responsible doesn’t mean shutting yourself down, fish-brain.” He said at last. He moved over to the seadweller and knelt down, putting a hand on his knee. “Tell you what. This time, I’ll be the mature one. You go yell and rage all you need to, okay? And then we can go throw rocks into the ocean like you did the other night.”

Makeno laughed, startling himself. “You saw that, did you?”

“Yeah. Was that about… him, or about-?”

“It was about some bucket-fuck at work.”

“Ah.” Silence fell for a moment. “So… do you wanna talk to them?”

“No.”

“Do you need to?”

“… Probably.”

“M’kay. Then, as the currently appointed Responsible One- trademarked- I say we’re going to go rage and yell at the half-dead fish on the porch.”

“… You’ll come with me?”

“Are you kidding? I’m not missing this.”

Less than a minute later, Makeno was stood before Fayroe, trying to think of what to say.

The fuchsia hadn’t moved, leaning against the wall as one hand clutched their now blood-soaked shirt. He was more lucid now that he wasn’t actively bleeding out, and he stared up at the violetblood in awe.

Corden stood just behind Makeno’s shoulder, holding his hand.

The tension was thick enough to drown in, the night silent around them.

“… Makeno, I-” Fayroe finally began.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” Makeno spat between clenched teeth. Fayroe’s fin-fronds began to flare with indignation, but Makeno instantly displayed his own. They both held the display for a moment, but Fayroe backed down first, his fins drooping as he looked away.

“... I missed you, Makey. I really missed you. Fuck, I’ve got so much to tell you… You know, I still lo-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Fayroe.” Makeno said sharply. He was tense again, squeezing Corden’s fingers like a vice; the goldblood was glad he’d given Makeno his robotic hand, or it’d hurt like a bitch. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think, how you feel about me, or what the fuck has happened to you. I thought I made it crystal fucking clear that I hate you, platonically.”

Fayroe winced, reaching up to touch the scar that ran across their lip. “Ma- ”

“No! No! You don’t get to talk, Fayroe! You said plenty when we were together, and never let me get a word in edgewise! I was your good little boyfriend, who kept his mouth shut and let you do as you pleased! Now it’s my turn.” Makeno snapped forcefully, before hissing the last words between his teeth.

He took several deep, quick breaths, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “You’re a vile, pathetic coward, Fayroe Fallen. You were cruel to me, you took advantage of me and my loneliness- and now you have the unmitigated gall to come crawling to my hive like we parted ways as friends?

You manipulated me, abused me, and took all of your emotions out on me. You never left me alone, never let me be my own person, and thought it was FUNNY when I was upset. You paraded yourself around like you’d already been crowned Emperor, bragging from here to East Alternia about how great you are, how powerful you are- then turn around and demand I validate your claims in the respiteblock!”

“I never-!” Fayroe began hotly.

“Shut your fucking mouth, I’m not done!” Makeno snarled, “I feel like ripping my ocular orbs out at the sight of you, you know that? I feel like I’m going to vomit right here and now, from hearing your voice. You liked it when I was violent, didn’t you? I’m feeling really ready to be violent right now.”

So saying, he released Corden’s hand and stepped forward. He suddenly stomped, hard- with a bare foot- on Fayroe’s thigh, and grabbed a fistful of snowy locks, forcing the fuchsia to look up at him. He bent down until their noses were nearly touching, Fayroe’s eyes blown wide.

“If you EVER come near me or my family again I’ll fucking rip your head off. I am so over you, I’ve jumped clear over both of the fucking moons. I’ve got a husband and morail who love me now, Fayroe. There’s no fucking room for you, except at the bottom of the fucking ocean.” He hissed, his voice low and dangerous like Corden had never heard before. For a moment, he could see the raging, violetblooded wriggler Makeno often lamented being.

Fayroe had begun to tremble, their eyes brimming with tears. “But- you’re the only one I have!” They croaked, swallowing hard.

Makeno snorted, his eyes burning. “No, Fay, you don’t even have me. You have no one, and as far as I care, it’s what you deserve.”

“Makeno, please-”

“Whatever sob story you’re about to spew like a broken sewer pipe, I don’t want to hear it. Everything you say is just a fucking lie, steeped in fermented shit water.” The violet snarled.

The violetblood flinched back as Fayroe suddenly reached up and seized his arm, claws digging into his bicep. “Makeno, he’s going to kill me!” The fuchsia shouted, finally getting out the words he’d been trying to say.

Makeno froze, as, at long last, he recognized the look in Fayroe’s eyes:

Fear.

“… Who’s going to kill you?” He asked against his better judgement.

“Godric, who else?! He- I- I failed him, Makeno, and now-”

“What do you mean, you failed him?” Makeno pulled away, wrenching Fayroe’s hand off of him, “Last time I saw you, you were quite fucking happy to be your ancestor’s successor.”

Fayroe shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “A lot has changed since I saw you, Makey.”

Wincing as it pulled on the freshly closed wounds, they managed to get their jacket off. Hidden under the leather sleeves, some of the wounds still quite fresh, were hundreds of scars, all spelling out the same word, over and over: “Obey.”

“What did he- …” Makeno looked away, deciding he didn’t want to know. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes for a long moment. “… Your life is in danger? Real, actual, danger?”

“Y- yes?”

Makeno rolled his neck to make it crack. “Ohh… I wish Forsaken’s bullet had killed me. Fuck.” He muttered, rubbing his face and opening his eyes again. “Why did you come to me? Why not go to the Scorpions?”

Fayroe laughed hollowly. “The Empire’s Scorpions are done for, Makey. I don’t doubt Godric will have all of them hunted down and killed.” He shook his head. “You’re- You’re the only troll I could think of who might help me. Godric won’t think to send anyone after you, since the two of us broke up. You were the only safe choice.”

“And how do you know I’m safe?” Makeno asked mildly, curling his lip.

Fayroe gazed up at him for a long moment, before their gaze flicked over to their audience. “Because the old you wouldn’t have a goldblood clinging to him.” They said pointedly.

Makeno expression hardened into a glare, and he stepped in front of Corden protectively. “His blood color has nothing to do with it. He’s my morail.”

“I don’t have blood.” Corden added, unhelpfully.

“Right, sorry- their battery acid.”

Fayroe clearly didn’t know how to respond to that. They opened their mouth and shut it again. Finally, he hung his head, spreading his hands helplessly and letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t know, then. I- I don’t know you anymore, I guess. You’re still familiar, but you’re… not you. You look like my Makey, but… you’re not.” Their fin-fronds wilted, and they slowly raised their eyes again.

“I’m hypothetically on my knees here, begging for your help, Makey. I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I’m sorry for what I did back then. You and I clearly have different memories of what happened, but- I’m sorry.” Fayroe raised their head, gazing up at Makeno through their bangs; privately, they weren’t even sure if the words that fell from their own lips were truthful.

Makeno set his jaw and said nothing for a long, long moment, his expression hard as he searched the fuchsiablood’s face. Corden sensed the moment the seadweller broke, by the silent sigh and slight dip in his fins.

“You’re a bad liar, Fay. Even if what you say is true, there’s no way in hell that I can believe it after everything you’ve done.” He took a deep breath, holding up a hand to stop the fuchsia as they opened their mouth, “But- fine. Unlike you, I unfortunately give a damn about trolls that aren’t myself. So… you can stay the day. But,” he added quickly as Fayroe perked up, “As soon as the sun fucking sets, I want you gone, you understand me? You’re not to come upstairs, or get within three feet of me or my quads. I’m taking all your fucking knives, and you can have them back when you leave and you’re to never, EVER come around my hive again after tonight, do you understand that?”

Fayroe’s eyes were once again brimming with tears. They nodded vigorously. “I understand. I’ll- I’ll go far, far away, Makey.” He whimpered, sniffling. Slowly, they rolled onto their knees and crawled forward, staring up and reaching for the violetblood hopefully. “Thank you, thank you, so much, Makey-”

“Don’t touch me. And stop calling me that; that’s a nickname for someone who isn’t around anymore.” Makeno growled, disgusted, as he took a step back, “I don’t care where you go.” He turned away. “Corden, could I ask you to set up the guestblock for them?”

“Sure.”

“Erm, can- can I request one thing…?” Fayroe asked hesitantly.

“What?” Makeno snapped.

“It’s just- my hop-beast.” Fayroe explained, his fins drooping, “I left her behind when I fled from Enforcer. I can’t leave her behind, she’s- she’s the only thing I have left.”

“I’m not going to go get your stupid rabbit.”

“Me, neither.” Corden agreed, “But… I know a pair of trolls who would be more than happy to break into Enforcer’s hive. I’ll give them a call.”

Fayroe let out a breath, relieved. “Thank you so much… er…”

“Corden.”

“Oh. Right. Um… nice to meet you?”

“No, it’s not.”

“If that’s all settled,” Makeno interrupted abruptly, turning on his heel and heading off the porch, “I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“To throw rocks into the ocean!”

#drowning in sorrow #story time #fayroe fallen #makeno faslet #corden blalit #long post #very long post #aquatic robotic

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mysterious-foxes · 3 years

Text

TW: Death, Drugs, Emotional manipulation/gaslighting

I don’t want to go back and edit anything, but this took way longer than I thought it would while trying to write it out. This is for documentation purposes and some entertainment if you want to hear about a psychotic woman that came into my life. Here ya go:

Okay, now that I’m home, I’ve eaten, given both dogs love (and bf took them on a walk), and I have New Girl on in the background, I’m ready to write out this crazy rant. Feel free to skip if you don’t want to read this LONG story or for whatever other reason you wouldn’t want to read it. I’ll add a ‘read more’ so that this doesn’t take up everyone’s timeline. I will say this though, if someone had told me this was going to happen a year ago, I never would have believed them, but everything I’m writing is 100% true.

If you are here to read my crazy rant about this fucking insane lady, welcome! I hope you find this as funny/interesting as I am currently. This is also a very emotional subject for me so while I might be thinking it’s funny now before I write it, I may go through a range of emotions while writing this. Such as anger, sadness, bewilderment, confusion, etc.

A little bit of a background. I am the youngest of 6 kids. I have 2 sisters and 3 brothers. I’m going to give them all code names using the color of the rainbow. Oldest to youngest is Red (f), Orange (f), Yellow (m), Green (m), Blue (m). Red and all 3 brothers are married (Yellow has been with her girlfriend for 3+ years). Blue only just got married a couple of months ago. I have 4 nephews (2 from Yellow and his wife, 2 from Green and his wife) and 2 nieces (both from Red and her husband). My mom and dad were married for over 30 years. They would never show much (if any) form of PDA in front of us kids and I never once saw them fight. My dad has always been quiet and never talked much. And he never really built a good relationship with us kids, especially those of us who have left the religion he believes in which is 4 1/2 out of 6 (I’m still unsure of Blue’s complete views and I don’t think he even knows. I wouldn’t be surprised if him and his wife left the religion within the next few years, even if it’s just secretly). My mom passed away a year and just a few days ago (on Green’s birthday). I miss her more than anything.

A little about my mom (again, for background). She was a great lady. She was also religious. She was extremely involved in the community, her church community, volunteered a ton (served on the local softball board for 17 years and did anything and everything for my high school’s theatre even after I was gone). She put everyone ahead of herself (especially us kids). She also pushed through any pain she had. About 2 years ago, she realized she was really sick and needed help. Doctors could not figure out for the life of them what was wrong with her. They took out her gall bladder. They put her on diets. I honestly don’t even know what else. About 6 months later, they found the problem and delivered the news. She had pancreatic cancer and it was severe. They gave her 6 months to live. We made the most of those 6 months. I was going out to my family’s a lot more than I had in a while. Red flew out and stayed for a few months. All of my siblings were there when she passed. Oof, I got a lot more into that than I meant to, but I feel like it gives a pretty good background about her. I told you this would be long.

Okay, so now we’re to where I can start talking about this insane lady. So for obvious reasons, my dad was very lonely. In May, my dad gives me a call and tells me he’s been talking to a woman (we’ll call her Ethel). Well, it felt soon, but I was happy my dad was finding comfort. He met her (get this) on an LDS widow and widowers facebook page. She lived in Oregon and he was going out to meet her in person and spend time with her for a week or 2. Awesome! Way to go Dad! Live your best life and make yourself happy!

He comes back and we start talking about when she’ll come to visit. Well Ethel has a sister (who lives in a city about an hour from my dad’s house) needs to have heart surgery Ethel needs to watch her cat. So Ethel comes to Utah and stays at my dad’s house for a couple of days. A few of us kids go out and have dinner with them to meet her. I was the first one there. Upon first meeting her, she talked, A LOT. She talked the majority of the time. It didn’t take long to realize that she had something to say about EVERYTHING and she seemed like she though she was the expert in EVERYTHING. For example one of the most recent times I talked to her, she was talking to me about the theatre I work at (which is a $31 billion theatre, super high tech and honestly they do pretty well). When I mean she was talking to me, I mean SHE was talking (she doesn’t let other people talk very much if at all. Only for “I’m sorry, that must be hard” or “I agree with you”). Well, she hasn’t been to the theatre I work at, but she’s been to their location in another nearby city which puts on a lot smaller productions and doesn’t have even 1/10th the amount of tech. They don’t put on nearly as good of productions. Well, Ethel tells me, “I’ve never been to a Broadway show, but I think that they’re as good as Broadway.” Like what?! HAHAHAHA. How can you even say that? You know absolutely nothing about it and you’re saying that!

Now, we’ve all met her, but she doesn’t really know the first thing about any of us kids. She asked me one question and then took over the conversation as soon as I got 2 words in. She did ask us all in a group about my mom (which was super awkward). We mentioned my mom was very charitable and she goes, “Oh I’m charitable person!” Who the fuck says that? And comparing herself to my deceased mother (who both her and my dad have “reassured” us time and time again that she’s not trying to replace). She constantly says how much like my mom she is or what she’s done better than my mom. HUGE RED FLAG. How desperate do you have to be to try to one up a dead person?!

In Ethel’s constant talking, she talks about her children and family members a lot. She talks a lot about how her husband passed and her brother passed and someone else passed all pretty quickly. She talks about her brother passing basically every time I talk to her. Now you might think it’s sweet she talks about her family, but it’s not. She doesn’t talk good things about any of her family. She talks about all the mental illnesses they all have. Her children refuse to meet my dad (or so she claims). And she doesn’t talk to any of her 3 children at this point. Another huge red flag.

So Ethel was here to take care of her sister and her sister’s cat while she was in the hospital. Well, turns out her doctor couldn’t do it the day they had planned, so it got pushed back. Then her sister desperately needed to go shopping so she had to push back her HEART surgery again. And I think one time she couldn’t go because her feet hurt from diabetes? There were a few different things. So Ethel is staying at my dad’s house this entire time. My dad’s very religious and so they’re not having sex, sleeping in the same bed, or even sleeping on the same floor. My dad is staying downstairs while she sleeps in his room. Finally, a month later, her sister goes in for surgery. Ethel is gone from my dad’s house for 2 days. To be fair, my dad wasn’t feeling good and had an infection in his tooth so was in a lot of pain. So yes, I get why she wanted to come support her new boyfriend, but also, my dad had plenty of children close enough to take care of him and she was supposed to be taking care of her sister’s cat. She stays at my dad’s house for another 3-4 days before going back to her sister’s. She gets back and to her surprise (but nobody else’s), the cat is missing. I also would have ran away if I thought I was abandoned and needed to scavenge for my own food since I haven’t been fed in days.

Finally, Ethel is going back to Oregon. Orange and my dad take her to the airport. On the way home, my dad mentions to Orange that they’re talking about getting married. Wow! Less than 9 months since my dad’s wife of 30+ years passed and he’s already ready to get married to another woman. What the fuck?! How is he over my mom already? I get wanting companionship, but holy fuck that’s quick! So I call my dad. My Aunt J had already chewed out my dad telling him that he’s moving too quick and not thinking about us kids (which is not wrong). And I guess she told him just to have sex and get it over with. I know my sisters also called my dad just before me. I called my dad and told him I was uncomfortable with how quick they were moving and I didn’t understand why they felt the need to move so quick. He just kept saying that it’s different when you’re older....I told him the 2 reasons that I could think that they were moving so quick is that she’s a gold digger or that they wanted to have sex (which come to find out that she claims she never had sex with her deceased husband and hated sex when she had it with her ex but I don’t know if she ever told my dad that because some of the things he has said to her is questionable). He assured me that was neither. Sure Dad...

I know I’m kinda all over the place here, but bear with me. So my Aunt J reached out to Ethel’s children. Only the oldest daughter responded (which Ethel claims is a liar and manipulative and basically the worst person on earth). So at this point, for I feel like pretty obvious reasons, I don’t trust much of what Ethel says and will most likely take her daughter’s word over hers. My aunt didn’t want to say everything and wanted us to reach out to the daughter personally, but she did tell us that the first thing that Ethel told her children when she met my dad was that she met a guy with a 401k. Who the fuck talks about that first?! Not even his name or where he’s from, but that he has money...So Orange ends up reaching out to Ethel’s oldest daughter. Ethel has said that her oldest daughter is a liar and manipulator and is basically the worst person in the world. I don’t know how someone can say that about their own child that they claim to love so much. Anyways, so Orange is pretty level headed and took everything that the daughter said with a grain of salt. But the daughter said some nice things and honestly made us feel better about Ethel all around. One of the things that Ethel has said on multiple occasions is that her children refuse to meet my dad. Well, when Orange talked to the daughter, she said that she was more than happy to meet my dad and talk to him about Ethel. But again, overall, she did make us feel better and that Ethel actually had feelings for my dad and wasn’t going to gaslight him (turns out that wasn’t accurate). We wanted to be upfront with my dad so Orange told him about the conversation and told him that it made her feel better. My dad told Ethel (including that Orange took what the daughter had to say with a grain of salt and that the daughter made her feel better) that Orange talked to her daughter and Ethel says, “I can’t believe that Orange would believe her lies!” First of all, I trust anything that her daughter says over her in the first place, but that just reaffirmed that. Second, that’s extreme gaslighting and my dad believes it.

Okay, so this has been a lot to write out and a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be. I’ve taken week long breaks (if not more) at a time, so I don’t know if I’ll forget to say something or if I’ll go in a different direction than I was originally planning for the next paragraphs but hopefully this is all entertaining enough. It won’t be all in chronological order, but I’m doing my best.

So after all of this, my dad tells us that we should go through my mom’s stuff that’s in the house that we want. Until you’ve done that shortly after the death of a loved one, you don’t know how exhausting it is. The first time was on a weekend that almost all of my siblings were able to be there. We video chatted my sister who couldn’t be there since she lives across the country. So we split up all of the big stuff. There’s some big furniture that people couldn’t currently take. Like I live in a tiny 1 bed apt and I couldn’t fit a piano, dresser, and vanity all in my apartment (let alone just one of them). So those are staying there until I can buy a house (which hopefully will be across the country). I was going out every Sunday to go through everything. I was a little petty and at one point was going through a box that had a bunch of church stuff in it right in front of my dad and kept asking him if he wanted the church things. My dad said we had plenty of time to go through things and take what we wanted so we were only doing what we felt was necessary and then would take our time from there.

One of the things that my dad and Ethel claimed was that their deceased spouses were trying to get them together...if anyone knows my mom, that’s definitely not true. I don’t know how my dad doesn’t see my mom would have hated Ethel. Her, Green’s wife, and myself would be gossiping so much about Ethel. Plus, one of my mom’s wishes when she passed was that if my dad got remarried then all of us kids would like his new wife. Not a single one of us like her. So not only is my dad completely oblivious to the fact my mom wouldn’t like her, he doesn’t uphold to one of her dying wishes.

So Ethel comes back to Utah. I don’t remember quite why. But she stayed at my dad’s. It was supposed to be temporary and she was supposed to stay somewhere else for most of the time she was here. Then she kept making excuses as to why she wasn’t leaving Utah and not staying somewhere else. There was one point where she was supposed to drive back to Oregon, but her car “broke down” about 7 (I think) hours from my dad’s house, but probably somewhere in the middle of the drive. So my dad being the good guy that he is drove out to pick her up and brought her back to his house. Where she has stayed ever since. The only time she’s left since was for their honeymoon. She had come back a couple of months before they were even technically engaged.

Oh my god! I just remembered something I forgot to mention earlier! Ethel and my dad do a LOT of PDA. My parents rarely showed affection in front of us. They rarely kissed in front of us. The most they would do was hold hands. Well Ethel and my dad are full on cuddling in front of us. Which wouldn’t be a big deal if that wasn’t the first thing I ever saw of her when we first met and if they didn’t do it so much in front of us at the beginning and if my parents showed any form of PDA. They also called each other pet names which my parents never did. All in all, it was really weird. AND my dad made a dirty joke which he has never done so to his kids in the 34 years he’s had any of us. I was very taken aback. So they ended up getting officially engaged and wanting to get married ASAP. Blue had been engaged for several months before. We told my dad to not even get engaged before Blue got married...well, they were talking about having a small ceremony in Oregon and inviting only a couple of her friends. No....my dad is not getting married without a single one of his friends or family members. I think enough of us spoke up about that so the idea was quickly shot down. But my dad was talking about getting married within maybe even weeks. We all knew Blue didn’t want him to and that would be taking away from him. So we convinced my dad not to get married before Blue’s wedding. He was unhappy about it, but he waited.

So leading up to their wedding, Ethel kept pushing us to get things out of the house. When we talked to my dad, he would always say that we could take as much time as we need and Ethel would say she never pushed us at all. And whenever I’d come out, I hated being around Ethel and would always go hide in the basement “doing things” until the rest of my siblings came. When I was forced to talk to her by myself, she would just keep talking and talking and not letting me get a word in. I live with my boyfriend and I’m not married so she thinks I just live in sin. She asked me about him once just so that she could say that she has family in the city he grew up in and so on and so forth. She also won’t talk about my sister’s girlfriend. Probably because they live in sin too...anyway, Orange, Green’s wife and myself planned a bridal shower for Blue’s (at the time) fiancée. She didn’t want Ethel there, but it was being hosted at my dad’s and Ethel never left so we couldn’t get around it. Speaking of Blue and his wedding, Blue was supposed to have brunch with his fiancée’s parents and my dad. Before my dad was actually engaged, he brought Ethel along. And Ethel doesn’t even ask, but tells them all that she’ll take care of the ties. Then she goes out and buys some samples before even knowing what the wedding colors are! Blue didn’t want her going to the wedding, let alone doing anything for the wedding. When I get married, Ethel will not be doing anything for my wedding.

Blue’s wedding happens. This is the first time Ethel meets my boyfriend. I don’t think they even said one word. This is also the first time that Yellow and his wife have met Ethel. Now Yellow’s wife got her degree in psychology and is a therapist. She said that Ethel crossed off almost all of the signs of a narcissist. Ethel still hasn’t even met Red and her husband in person (even to this day). Now we’re a month away from my dad’s and Ethel’s wedding...unfortunately. My dad asks me to put together a playlist for their wedding. No thanks, but I’ll do it for my dad. He specifically requested a song by Chicago for her walking down the aisle. Chicago was my mom and dad’s band so I was very upset that my dad would have a song with another woman from the band that him and my mom loved so much. I begrudgingly put together the playlist and added that. However, I didn’t add any other Chicago songs (even though he suggested that). And I made sure any songs I used didn’t mention forever or only love or anything like that. I might be a little petty.

Day of their wedding, I find out that all the decorations Ethel asked for from Green’s wife were from Blue’s rehearsal dinner. She didn’t even ask Blue or his (now) wife if she could use them. She asked Green’s wife...and then when she told Ethel she would have to ask Blue, Ethel said something along the lines “Well his dad paid for them so I can use them.” I don’t think it was quite as snarky as I put it, but that was the message she was trying to get across. My siblings are all hanging out at the dining table before the ceremony. Even though they’re both religious, they were just having a civil wedding in the backyard because if they were to marry in their temple, she would have to divorce her deceased husband (but my dad would be able to be married to multiple women for eternity...not misogynistic at all right? /sarcasm). My dad’s bishop comes in all bright and cheery. He knows quite a bit of my family so he comes and says hi. I don’t think it took long for him to realize we weren’t happy about the wedding. Ethel claims she invited her children (I really don’t think she did). She had a few of her family and friends come to the wedding, but none of her children. We’re pretty sure one of the couples that came was her daughter’s ex husband and his new wife (whom she has said she is closer with her daughter’s ex than her actual daughter).

Okay, so I’m now at the point where I’m going to give information that I don’t 100% remember fits where. Some of it was before their wedding, some of it before they even got engaged, some of it after their wedding. This may just be a bunch of word vomit, so I hope it all makes sense and anyone who happens to still be reading this doesn’t get lost. BTW, if you happen to still be reading this, congratulations on making it this far! I told you this would be a long post.

One of the first times we met Ethel when she was out here the first time we were doing a family dinner. I don’t remember everything we did for the dinner. Green’s wife cooked the main meal. Orange was supposed to be in charge of the Au Gratin Potatoes and something else. Well, I had asked what I could do and had the choice of rolls or salad. In our family group chat, my dad said Ethel wanted to contribute and asked what she could do. I told him I would do the salad and asked if she could do the rolls. Apparently that wasn’t good enough and she wanted to do more so she ended up doing the au gratin potatoes. We specifically wanted our family recipe for the potatoes and Orange had already bought the ingredients for it so she let Ethel know where to find the ingredients. Before I get into what actually happened, one of the things that Ethel boasts about all the time is that she grew up helping her mom with catering and so she knows how to cook really well (I have liked very few of the things she’s cooked). So Ethel doesn’t use our recipe and uses her own for the potatoes...they weren’t very good. And the rolls she brought were terrible store bought rolls. Like, if she doesn’t want to make rolls, whatever, but at least buy decent rolls. Also, rolls are a really easy thing to make to show off to a family you’re trying to impress. I seriously just get the frozen Rhode’s Rolls and then after cooking them melt butter on top of them. Super easy and people are always super impressed with how good they are. So not only does she not use the recipe for potatoes we wanted, her recipe is meh, AND she gets shitty store bought rolls.

At one point, Green’s wife and I were going through the small room upstairs cleaning it out and trying to make sure my sibling’s belongings got in a box for each of them. This is the room that my mom died in. All of my siblings were in this room with her. It is painted dark blue and along the middle of the wall around the room is a trim of wallpaper covered in whales. Ethel and my dad are wanting to turn this room into his home office (especially with how much he’s been working at home due to Covid-19). Which is whatever, they can do what they want. While Green’s wife and I are in there cleaning out the room, Ethel comes in and starts using some sort of tool on the wallpaper that tore small holes in it. She said it was so they could take down the wallpaper easier. I don’t know why she had to do that while we were in there cleaning. It has been a few months since then and she hasn’t done anything else to that room (including taking down the wallpaper). Green’s wife believes she did that while we were in there just to be mean. She actually believes Ethel just likes being mean and does things just to be mean. It’s hard to disagree with that considering everything else.

I don’t know why I didn’t say something about this earlier when I was writing about how Orange and my Aunt J had spoken to Ethel’s daughter. There were some things that they talked about that were huge red flags. Ethel’s daughter said that Ethel was a gold digger and just looking for someone to take care of her. Also that from Ethel’s first marriage, she got $60,000 from her ex husband and she blew it all within just a few months. Ethel has been filed for bankruptcy multiple times and just overall isn’t great with money. All of her children have tried to help her and she has burned every bridge because she just sells the cars they would buy for her or do other stupid things because she never had any money. I mentioned before that Ethel’s children refused to meet my dad. They said that it was way too soon after her last husband passed (their step dad) for them to meet my dad (yes, it had been like 7 months). So since they refused to meet my dad right away, Ethel told them that they wouldn’t be a part of her life anymore. Of course my dad doesn’t believe any of this, but like I said earlier, I trust Ethel’s daughter way more than I trust her.

When my dad was talking about getting married to Ethel, one of the things we pushed for was a prenup. My dad reluctantly agreed that he would look into it. It turns out that in my state, if they hadn’t gotten a prenup stating otherwise, when my dad died (if Ethel was still alive) then everything would go to her and then once she died everything would go to her children and nothing would go to my dad’s kids. So he did go through with the prenup (which also covered if they got a divorce he wouldn’t have to give her money or anything). His lawyer actually gave him some really good advice and I hope that my dad was more open to his lawyer about those things than he was with us even though we said the same things. And luckily, control of the trust and everything else is still in the hands of my oldest siblings when my dad passes (even if Ethel is still alive).

So Green has 2 kids. One that they’re fostering and hoping to adopt, the other has some cognitive disabilities. Even so, he is the smartest kid I know. At 3 years old he could name all of the planets in the solar system. I’m 24 and I can’t do that. He just retains knowledge really really well. Well, Ethel likes to call him her “special little buddy”...which is extremely ableist to say the least. He doesn’t really like her and he can tell that we all don’t like her (he’s 6 and he can see that better than my dad). Green’s wife absolutely hates it when Ethel calls him that too. Green’s wife is probably the one that stands up for all of us the most. But she’s also super nervous of the inevitable time that she pisses Ethel off. Ethel has called CPS on her own daughter because her preteen grandson was moody and didn’t talk to her while she was at lunch with him. If she calls CPS on Green and his wife, then they take their foster child out of the home immediately and who knows what that’ll do to their chances of adopting him. When Ethel calls CPS on any of my siblings, if I haven’t already done it for other reasons, I will tell my dad that I want to be a part of his life, but our relationship can’t include Ethel. I know my siblings and they do not do a single thing that would concern CPS.

So when Blue got married, I’m not sure exactly when it was, but I know that Ethel talked to Blue’s new sister-in-law for a bit. And she was talking about Blue’s wife’s anxiety, which Blue’s wife has never said a thing to Ethel about. And Ethel just went on and on about Blue’s wife’s anxiety and how hard it must be and that’s why Blue’s wife is like this and so on and so forth....I’m curious to know what Ethel thinks my mental illness is and tells people about.

I’m writing this one right now because it just happened and I don’t want to forget the details. So my dad’s house has 6 bedrooms and 2 family rooms. It was a good size for my family while we were growing up, but now it’s just the two of them in a 6 bedroom home. They’re planning on redoing a lot of things and we’ve been doing a lot to clean out the house and split up my mom’s stuff. So in the smallest bedroom in the house, there was a lot of baby stuff and when we didn’t know where to put things, a lot of it would go in there. Well, on multiple occasions, they’ve told us that we can take as much time as we need to go through the house and that there was no rush. Ethel has been pushing to get everything out when my dad isn’t around, but now even my dad has pushed to get things out a little bit. They decide that anything we haven’t gone through and they’re not sure what we want, they’ll put in a storage unit for us to go through when we can. I thought that was a great compromise. Well, Ethel ended up taking a picture of the small room and posting it on Facebook talking about how messy we are and how terrible of step children we are. How we were supposed to get it out by the time they got back from their honeymoon so on and so forth. Yellow and his wife see this before Ethel ends up deleting it off of Facebook. Yellow calls my dad (which I’m so grateful because so far it’s just been the girls making any sort of fuss) and is really upset about it while talking to my dad. My dad puts him on speaker and talks to Yellow and Ethel together. Ethel says she accidentally posted it on Facebook and it was supposed to be just for her aunt. How do you accidentally post something on Facebook? And if you’re talking shit and posting it to a private audience, you sure as hell aren’t going to make the mistake of posting it publicly. But also, she was talking shit about my dad’s kids and he defended her. How can he take her side on that one?

The anniversary of my mom’s death is on the same day as Green’s birthday. Well, the day was coming up and in our family group chat Ethel asks how we want to celebrate the birthday and remember my mom. Not my dad, ETHEL asks...that is not her place in the slightest. If my dad had asked, then I would have been more than happy to talk about it, but Ethel doesn’t get to be the one to try to see how we want to celebrate. Green’s family, Yellow’s family, and myself and my boyfriend ended up going to an amusement park for that day. Then we went out to my dad’s that night for pizza (hawaiian especially to remember my mom) and to watch a destructo show (because my mom LOVED those). Yellow and his family were staying at my dad’s. Well, Ethel told Yellow and his wife to make themselves at home and to eat whatever and drink whatever. When Yellow was telling me about this, I thought it was so funny because 1 he said he felt like “yeah, of course I’ll make myself at home, this is my house, not yours! and 2 my mom would get so annoyed with him for when he visited opening up a bag of chips without asking for permission or things like that. Like small things that didn’t matter in the scheme of things, but he would do with my mom, of course he’s not going to care what Ethel thinks about it. The other thing that Ethel talked to Yellow and his wife about was getting rid of all the sippy cups and only keeping one in the house per grandchild with their name on it. She said that she would always find 5 sippy cups full of milk laying around the house, but she wasn’t saying that because of Yellow’s family. So that means she was saying it because of Green’s family. Which, the younger one never leaves his sippy cup behind and the older one doesn’t drink milk (he used to be allergic and now just doesn’t like it).

One of the things that bugs Green’s wife a lot is that Ethel will always message her and say passive aggressive shit or ask her to tell my family about something or talking to her about getting everything cleaned out of the house, etc. At one point she asked Green’s wife to choose what toys they wanted to keep in the house. My mom bought way too many toys for the grandchildren, but she loved them. She would end up putting a bunch in storage and rotating them out when the kids stopped playing with some toys because they were bored of them (genius really). But it sounded like Ethel was wanting to get rid of basically all of the toys, which the point of having them there and not at my siblings’ house was so that the kids had toys to play with there and only got to play with them at my dad’s house. I think one of the reasons for getting rid of them or at least downsizing is that she always claims that the toys don’t get put away. They do though. I have been there when my siblings are putting their kids mess away. I’ve helped clean the toys up. They always get cleaned up.

Oh my god!! I can’t believe it has taken me this long to mention this one. So while my dad and Ethel were on their honeymoon, we were going through the house and trying to clean out as much as possible. Well, while doing so, we found a TON of different medications. Some were for her, some her deceased husband, and some were for somebody named “Gale Friend”. But there were probably at least 40 different bottles of pills (if not more). And at one point, Green’s wife was downstairs cleaning out of of the bedrooms. In one of the vanities (that is either mine or Orange’s, not even my dad’s let alone Ethel’s), there were some more bottles of pills and LOOSE PILLS in the drawer. This is an area that my nephews are unsupervised a LOT. Imagine if one of them opened the drawer and ate one of them! Yellow’s wife thinks that it’s too sloppy for an addict and that Ethel was trying to get us to say something to my dad so that she could play the innocent victim and that his kids just hate her and it’s her and him against the world.

Speaking of playing the victim, she does that with my dad a lot. She has literally told him before that it’s him and her against the world. She has talked bad to him about every single one of his kids (except my oldest sister that I know of). She has been trying to cut him off from his family. He can’t talk to anyone of us or even his sister alone. Also, when we’re around, she talks to my dad in a baby voice. I’m sure she does it when we’re not there too, but just trying to act like she’s this innocent helpless little girl and my dad has fallen for it. I’m sooo scared that he is finding himself to be miserable and feels like he has nobody there to help him. I hope he knows that any one of his kids would help him if he said anything. He’s such a good guy and deserves happiness. I hope that soon, he is able to realize that she’s not happiness.

Wow, this was incredibly long. I’m 100% sure there are things that I missed/forgot about. And I’m 100% sure there are things that will happen later and I will be back here writing it down to keep record and if anyone actually was interested in knowing. If you are here reading this, you seriously deserve a medal for being able to get through this entire thing. Thanks for bearing with my scattered brain and I hope it at least made you laugh at the insanity if nothing else.

#long post #tw death #death #tw gaslighting #tw emotional manipulation #tw drugs #psychopath #insane #insanity #i miss my mom #i hate this woman #why did you do this dad?

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reliciron · 4 years

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Exploring Arcann’s Romance: Part 1

So Arcann’s romance, huh?

Kinda sucked, didn’t it?

So I’m going to throw down some ideas that might flesh it out a bit. Again, these are just some of my interpretations, and since I love thinking about his romance I would really like to hear other ideas because some of mine are getting stale from how often I’ve run through the scenarios in my head.

Strap in, it’s another long one.

Part 2 here

Like any in-game romance, there are as many different ways to introduce a romance as there are fans of that pairing. No two are going to be exactly the same, but I’ve found that fans seem to get more creative about a romance the less satisfactory the in-game scenes are. If there’s several scenes with good emotional weight that lead to a satisfying confession/kiss/sex scene then a fair number of fics will include the canon scenes in some form. I’m not saying that this is lazy fic writing, I’m saying that its a testament to how good the canon content is. If what we got is shit, then we’re more motivated to make our own; if it’s good, then then we can focus more on the unseen parts of the existing scene, like their internal dialogue, rather than creating a completely new one. Ex. Fenris from Dragon Age 2. All these years later, I still love his romance. I find the flirting and romance scenes satisfying and true to the characters. I’ve read a lot of Hawke/Fenris fanfics, and a large portion of those who addressed their getting together tend to follow the canon scenes closely. They’re not exact of course, often there’s enough of the author’s flavor to make the scenes feel new again, but I feel like this illustrates the trend.

On the other end of the spectrum are romances like Arcann’s. I understand of course, his romance is an afterthought in the game. An addition that came after the story was concluded and tacked on in a single companion alert that could easy be overlooked. Add that little scene variation before The Nathema Conspiracy flashpoint, and we’ve got two measly little scenes and one or two messages. Compare that to Theron Shan’s romance. Assuming you ran through the Prelude, Shadow of Revan, and Ziost, then you’ve been flirting with him for months if not years. (Quick note, I’ve only romanced Theron as an Imp-side character so I’m not sure how different it is Pub-side) We get to see him flustered by our interest in the Prelude. He subtly checks if we’re still interested when we first see him again on Rishi and acts more accepting of our flirtations. He’s even more confident on Yavin 4, going as far as expressing his worry and his own flirtations. We even get kisses! One on Rishi, one on Yavin. And he seems genuinely regretful that we have to part ways. We don’t get much on Ziost, which makes sense since things are happening so fast, but we get enough to know that he hasn’t forgotten us, and he still harbors interest.

In KotFE, we find that sweet, sad, nervous message waiting for us once we get to a mailbox, and once he enters the story we get plenty of opportunities for flirting, kisses, and soft emotional scenes straight through to the end of Nathema (assuming you didn’t kill him or break up).

Arcann’s content looks pretty pathetic in comparison, so it’s no surprise that the few people putting out fics for him have their work cut out for them.

The first major division we can make are: fics that assume Arcann fell for you after he joins the Alliance, and fics that assume his interest started much earlier, when he was still the villain. The second one is: fics who include the canon confession scene, and those who make their own.

Honestly, I think I speak for everyone in that the content for Arcann is so sparse that most readers don’t have a preference. Beggars can’t be choosers after all. But such categories can help us corral our ideas on his romance.

The companion alert itself is seems very heavily predisposed toward someone looking to romance him. He made you armor so you can always be protected for god’s sake! Even if you’re not looking to romance him, it still makes you think that he’s crushing on your character big time (which he actually admits in a message post-confession). Add those pre-romance messages to this scene and it makes it painfully awkward for anyone who doesn’t romance him.

But even then, the whole thing is extremely abrupt. The last we knew in the game, our character is at least on civil terms with him, but his speech is still very formal and his actions still scream nervous subservience. He still seems very unsure of his position in the Alliance, so he’s probably falling back on what he knows from his years serving Valkorian. Emphasis on serving.

I don’t think I need to tell you guys how bad that is; going into a relationship with the person you feel subservient to.

So it’s little wonder that most fics either put way more distance between the end of KotET and the confession or put more work into advancing Arcann’s headspace into a healthier place, often a little of both.

It’s important to me that I don’t fall into the trap of “love fixes everything” because I don’t personally like that kind of relationship.

Arcann’s so messed up that it would take years to get him in to a completely healthy state of mind, and most fics don’t have that sort of time, but we can at least try to get him into a more confident position before we dive into the romance.

Now, to the romance scenarios. Specifically, the ones where he started being interested in you after he joined the Alliance.

The fics I’ve read who do include the canon alert scene, tend to change it a little. It seems best to let it play out normally without picking the flirt option. That awkwardness can then be used in a more natural confession later on.

Either your character hadn’t even entertained the idea of romancing Arcann, or they had but assumed he wouldn’t return their feelings. Depending on how careful and emotionally insightful they might be, they could also worry that their interest would not be appropriate for the situation. They could worry that even if Arcann was interested he wouldn’t be ready for a relationship. At worst, if they’ve noticed his subservience, they could even worry that he wouldn’t refuse their interest out of some misguided need to appease them or because he feared for his position in the Alliance if he refused. After all, your character is the Commander and they are technically in a position of power over him. Do I think he would actually do that? No. But an overly anxious character, or one looking for any excuse not to confess, might worry about it.

Either way, Arcann gifting them armor, showing an almost desperate need to protect them, and his messages paint a pretty obvious interest. They could be too surprised or flustered to properly respond right then, but they could take the hint to start making moves on him. Whatever that means for your character, whether it’s blatant flirting looking to get a reaction out of him, or its more subtle, like little innocent touches and spending more time with him. The response is up to you.

I admit, I’m all about that pining, so I tend to assume that he has already come to the conclusion that he’s interested in your character and that there’s no way they could possibly like him back. So I figure that any flirting will be coming from your character. How long it takes for him to catch on depends on your character’s personality, what kind of flirting their doing, and how unusual it is for them to act that way.

For those who disregard the confession scene entirely, the sky’s the limit. I have a few ideas of my own but there aren’t really any guidelines here so long as you try to keep them in character (if that’s something you want to do, writing OOC characters is an option, just not one I enjoy). And if you DO need them to do something that would be out of character, then spend the time and do the work to get them to a point where it wouldn’t be. If you need Arcann to take control and push your character up against a wall you can’t go from an unsure regretful man to playful sexy man in 3.5 seconds, work on him to get him there. Throughout a reasonable amount of time and circumstances, boost his confidence, make him feel as if that action would be welcome to your character and not frightening. The actions that lead us there, however, are up to you.

As for Arcann’s falling-for-you process:

I think it was first rooted in respect and a little hero worship.

Assuming that he was honest when he said he didn’t feel anything but negative things for you pre-ritual, let’s consider what those might be.

At minimum you were an annoyance. Some little shit who didn’t have the sense to bow down, and kept foiling his plans. The longer you kept making yourself a nuisance the angrier you made him. You somehow managed to find the one ship who could stand up to the eternal fleet, effectively spitting in the face of his military might. You survived what should have been a fatal blow. You had the gall to come back to Zakuul while there was an active bounty on your head. You subverted his own subjects, showed his automated army was not immune to sabotage, stole the majority of his treasury, and came within striking distance of disabling the entire fleet. He went from being mildly amused and faintly irritated at the mention of you, letting you run around Zakuul with only an offhand warning to the people, to being so fixated that he willingly ignored that Scorpio had taken the throne just so he could attack you.

You were willful, persistent, cunning, and absolutely infuriating. A Robin Hood to his Prince John.

But now he’s on the other side. He’s part of your Merry Men. And those qualities take on another light.

With his rage pacified, his newly reemerged empathy has shown him the cost of his actions. Actions that Vaylin is now mirroring. Suddenly facing down the might of the eternal fleet with its legions of Skytroopers and Knights, the shear impossibility of the task finally hits home for him. This is what the Commander has been fighting for months. Through charisma and shear force of will, they’ve managed to convince people to band together against ridiculous odds, and through guerrilla tactics and their own considerable strength they’ve actually been able to hold their own.

If that doesn’t earn his respect nothing will.

And with their continued dogged attacks, even in the face of such adversity, I don’t know how he wouldn’t admire them.

But your character’s been through a lot by the time he joins up. They’ve been at this for months if not years, all the while toting around the ticking time bomb known as Valkorian. We don’t see it in-game, but they have to be exhausted. Mentally and physically. And now he’s in a position to see those cracks start to form. The shadows under their eyes grow darker, their movements more sluggish, and their patience thins. He watches the way their gaze goes distant or they track someone with their eyes when there’s nothing there, and knows that it’s his father haunting them. Every loss hits them harder and weighs heavier on their shoulders, and Arcann’s admiration for them grows alongside his fear.

Fear that they will break under the pressure.

But to his increasing surprise, that worry is less and less about what that would mean for the galaxy, or even the Alliance, and more what that would do to the Commander. He finds that he’s grown to actually like them. The perseverance that once enraged him now leaves him in awe. The tone he’d thought was mocking is now charming or soothing. The depths of their strength is no longer frightening, but inspiring.

There is a light in their eyes. And every day, every appearance from his father, every loss, causes it to dim a little more. And he’s become terrified that it will go out.

I agree that the scene in the throne room is the turning point for him. When admiration and fondness turned into romantic feelings.

“It was not until you defeated Valkorian and took the throne that I realized my feelings had evolved beyond admiration.” - In-game Message

Seeing his father taking control of the Commander must’ve been terrifying. I’m sure he felt it.

There must have been a surge of Valkorian’s power, and then the Commander’s presence all but disappeared.

Our character was so badly broken that they took on Valkorian’s image just to survive. [Brief side note: I loved those scenes where you have to reassemble yourself by stringing your memories together. But taking on Valkorian’s image never made sense to me. If I address this in a fanfic, I’d prefer being a formless glob of light, or maybe a walking collection of shattered glass.]

You were unconscious for so long and Arcann got so scared that we was willing to go in there after you. He even expresses his worry to Senya that he “wouldn’t be strong enough”. Whether he meant he wouldn’t be strong enough to resist falling to the dark side again, or he simply wasn’t powerful enough to defeat Valkorian is unclear, but the important thing is that he was willing to risk it for you.

I cannot emphasize this enough, he was so scared of losing you that he was willing to face down the man who abused him for decades.

And this close call made him realize how important you were to him and how deep his feelings for you actually ran.

Part 2 here

#swtor #arcann #arcann tirall #character analysis #arcann romance #kotfe #swtor kotfe #kotet #swtor kotet

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cruzrogue · 5 years

Text

Worth Fighting For

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

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for fanfiction:

Prompt number: Prompt:28 “Enough! I heard enough.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags: exes clashing with one another

Roy Harper makes an appearance

Summary: Oliver vs Laurel (defending himself and his team) Very AU

Notes: Dedicated to Bluedove who supplied earlier prompts to Fighting Words (ch6) & Fighting Actions (ch20) This is for you… Worth Fighting For... Hope you like it. To everyone I hope you enjoy. Thank you!

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Worth Fighting For on A03

There has been a delicate air of balance amongst the team members slowly building up. Between Ra's al Ghul, the surge of criminals trying to make their name in the city, and still figuring out the deal with Sara’s death. With Laurel Lance in the mix there is a sort of resentment that’s creeping among the morale within the foundry walls. The lawyer still hasn’t found her niche within this group and now seems to belittle Roy who is trying his best not to snap. His annoyance best used to go out on patrol or beefing up on his training. He misses Oliver’s sister so when Laurel speaks to him in a matter-in-fact tone about knowing Thea so well it just pisses him off to no end.

Case and point is what she is doing right now. She’s sitting on a stool looking at an array of gizmos Oliver is working on. Little trick arrows that he and Felicity have measured and designed to fit properly. None of them yet properly tested. He’ll be doing that with Roy later on.

“Does she know?”

Roy hitting the Wing Chun Dummy one last time before turning his attention to Laurel. “What?”

“I said, does she know?” Roy not having the slightest clue to what she is talking about gives her a blank stare. His thoughts turn to Felicity who he’s been hanging out with. She’s cool. Like a sister cool. “How dense are you?”

“Lady, I’m about to lose it if you don’t get right to the point. Are we talking about Felicity?” He’s in love with Thea and as much as he enjoys her company she’s already spoken for. She’s great in the sister role. Loves her to death. “Because I don’t get what you are hammering about?”

“Thea, but wait you hang out with Felicity? Oliver is okay with that?”

“Seriously? What is your problem?”

“Here I thought your every waking thought was on Ollie’s sister but…”

“Hey! Don’t go there!” He’s seriously giving her a scowl. She just smirks. The boy just admitted that Felicity isn’t so squeaky clean. She raises her hand to signify she’s done. Felicity not only has the eye for her new boss but spends her extra time with Roy. How convenient? How this girl got all these guys eating out of her paws.

“Actually I was in the midst of asking does Thea know of you extra activities?” Making sure to point to the arrows.

“No. Oliver isn’t keen on the idea.”

She just is bemused. “You’re really allowing the brother of the girl you supposedly love from the truth from a man who has perjured himself, cheated, and killed.”

“He has his reasons.”

“That’s it. You’re just going to allow him to dictate how you live your life?”

Roy grumbles lowly at her. He doesn’t need her to point out anything. He understands Oliver’s reasons after joining the crusade sometimes keeping people in the dark keeps them safe. He understands from John at least that Laurel finding out was never the intent of team arrow. Instead of Laurel trying to help people in a courtroom she’s here bothering him.

“You looked smarter than that.”

“Really?” He shakes his head. “Your using psychology on me? I’m out of here.” He grabs his jacket and books it. Leaving Laurel to just sit there and look at the empty foundry.

This is the first time that’s she’s really down here alone. With no other member of this ragtag group. She decides to really take stock of the place she has been hanging around more frequently as to show she isn’t going anywhere.

Its crazy how much work it seems it takes to make arrows. She gets the gest of why he uses that form of weaponry even though John using a gun seems more likely a better bet. She’s seen the petite blonde using this section it seems its her domain. She doesn’t like that this techie even has a domain. She learned her lesson to not underestimate Felicity. It seems the petite has a meaner streak. Sitting in the woman’s chair she takes the vantage point of what Felicity gets to see and notices the salmon ladder that Oliver always seems to not do when she is around.

She is about to start the middle computer when she hears a voice from the staircase, “I wouldn’t touch her babies.”

Her fingers pull back and she glanced at the computer monitors. “Oh God, she probably even named them.” Laurel looking disgusted.

“She might have but that is her story to tell. Why are you down here? Specifically, why are you in Felicity’s domain?”

“I was actually taking a look around everything and landed here. It is the focal point of the foundry.” She actually never really thought about it before but Felicity is the center of the crowed basement of Verdant.

“We don’t touch the computers or servers down here. Not without some sort of approval.”

“You are pulling my leg.”

“No! These aren’t your standard computers anyhow.”

“Wow! She really makes herself be indispensable. No wonder you guys bow to her.”

“Felicity isn’t like that and you know that well enough. The woman knows she’s smart but she is also humble.”

“What she stopped telling you she’s a genius?”

“As much as I’ve refrained from telling her I’m an archer. We both know each other.”

“She really has you wrapped around her finger.”

“She’s wonderful, she’s kind, she’s a real asset to the team. She’s just someone… She’s just special.”

“You sound like you were trying to sell her. Now that she is only your friend.”

“Her safety, happiness means the world to me. Even if I can’t be the one, I want her happy.”

“Yet, you say your friends but she barely has time for…” Her hands scope the foundry as she finishes, “For any of this.”

“She’s busy. She needs to work. I understand that.”

“Though she used to follow you around at QC.”

“Well we worked together. She would have been a better C.E.O.”

“Yea, I bet. Then the money would have trickled down into her pockets.”

“I’m not as rich but I still have plenty of money.”

“Well maybe that is why she isn’t here.”

“You know she’s at her job.” He gives her a funny look. “It is working hours. Unlike you I suppose she doesn’t make her own hours.”

“Are you inferring to something?”

“No, not at all. I don’t have a nine to five job so I can’t begrudge anyone.” He just shrugs.

“I was just pointing out that now that you need her the most she’s shacking up with someone who can buy her stuff.”

Oliver takes a deep breath he is actually expecting this from her. Felicity is a grown woman who isn’t bound to him. He is pushing the woman he loves away and as much as its making him miserable it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Felicity to be happy. If Ray can give her what he surely lacks comfort, stability, and it pains him to say it but if the man can love her right he isn’t going to begrudge that relationship.

“Oliver she is a teammate. I admit she’s really good at this tech stuff but she’s doesn’t really know you. Like I do.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Deep in my bones I know that there is nothing that truly stands between us.”

He closes his eyes. This moment couldn’t get any worse. He’s losing the woman he loves. Seemly has a woman he can’t ever shake off. He knows there is something off about his sister. Ra’s al Ghul is a tremendous opponent. The SCPD is out to get him. Life just sucks all around.

“Laurel, I’m not into you.”

She shakes her head slightly amused, “Oliver, you know you need me. I’m the fixture in your life that has always been constant. It’s fate.”

“I really don’t know what I need to say or do for you to understand I’m not that guy. You aren’t in love with me.”

He gets taken aback when she screams at him. “You don’t know what you are saying!” Her finger points at him her voice rising in pitch, “I’m the woman who has been there for you. Always there. Don’t you dare tell me how I feel. You’re the one who doesn’t know how to feel.”

“You are right.” He pauses, “I don’t feel anything for you.”

“You lie.”

“I really don’t think we should…”

“Shove it! You and your indecisive tendencies to never commit. I feel pity for her thinking you’d…”

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what? Talk about how much of a jerk you are? You left with my sister. Disappeared and have the gall to waltz back and now decide what others can and can’t do?”

“If that is the case you wouldn’t be here. Your sister loved you. You have no idea the savagery outside these foundry walls. I get you’re mad at me. I can live with that. That is my guilt to carry.” With the look she gives him he continues, “I don’t love you Laurel, not in the way you deserve. That I will not apologize for… Ever!”

“You have got to be kidding me?”

“No. I beyond serious. If you want to stay. Fine stay. Just know that there is nothing between us but some past history that doesn’t define me anymore.”

“You are going to stand there and once again lie to my face.”

Oliver now beyond annoyed, “That’s the thing Laurel. I’m not lying, for once hear me tell you at face value that I’m totally over any semblance of an us.”

“Its because of Felicity, right?”

His hands go to his head. This woman is unbelievable. When it comes to him her brain short circuits. Then again, she always was around for the prestige and now that he doesn’t have the wealth, he hoped she’d move on. Finally letting him live his life unattached to a Lance.

“Laurel, let it go.”

“Like I let Tommy go?”

“I just can’t with you!” He just wishes she would stop. Tommy is dead. There is enough guilt to go around. She has her own demons to deal with and he told her he was done chasing after her. He meant it. It doesn’t mean he can’t be cordial because like she stated they had history but more important he wants to do right by Sara’s memory. “I really can’t. I can’t be any clearer that there is no us. I can’t be any clearer that you trying to walk in your sister’s shoes won’t end badly for you.”

“You just hate that I’m excelling in boxing under Wildcat’s tutelage and that Nyssa is showing me some moves.”

“Do you even listen to yourself?”

“How am I different than Roy? Or John and Felicity?”

“You know darn well John’s equipped and Felicity stays behind the scenes and yes you do have some parallels to Roy. The difference is Roy isn’t charging against league taught Merlyn. Like you insanely did. He could have killed you without blinking an eyelid.”

“Well he didn’t.”

“I don’t know his reasons nor do I care. You’re just lucky to be alive until the next villain.”

“Then train me like you are doing with Roy”

“No! Roy needs an outlet.” Oliver not moving in his opinions. “You need to step back and go back to using that law degree.”

“Like I said, you think you can make up the rules and every one follows I’m not like that I will honor my sister.”

“Fine, you are going to do what you want anyways. Sara’s sacrifice created the Canary Mantle, the discipline, attitude, honed skills from surviving which she had to do to stay alive.” He doesn’t need to add the obvious that some midnight boxing classes won’t cut it. That her pompous living style is far from reality of what’s in store. That he’d have his team and himself look out for her because Felicity would never let them live it down. She may have a chip with Laurel but she’d always do what is right. That is what being heroes is all about.

Laurel isn’t done yet, “Enough! I heard enough.”

Oliver not backing down is about to add more choice words when both Oliver and Laurel turn to Felicity that has both her hands on her hips.

“I heard more than enough! Both of you step away from this space or…” Looking at Laurel first, “I will knock you to kingdom come and don’t even try my patience.” Then looking at Oliver, “You better have more than a pint of ice cream to calm me down. You know exactly how much these babies cost and how much blood, sweat, and tears I’ve given to them.” Without any words both Laurel and Oliver move out of the designated Smoak space. “Now we are all adults here. We have a common goal. We don’t always have to like each other but let’s get something straight.”

“Felicity?” Oliver tries to interject.

Just as Laurel says, “Get what straight?”

“You want to be a part of Team Arrow?” She hears Oliver deject that team name but she doesn’t really listen or care right now to that objection. “Then figure how to work with us and not against us. We aren’t into power plays. We are a family...” She takes a moment to gaze at Laurel. For once the woman is taking in what Felicity is saying. Somewhat amazed that Laurel hasn’t said a word, she adds, “Worth Fighting For.”

That was the last time that there was a big riff with Laurel versus each member as they began to synchronize as a team. The Canary title changed as Felicity dubbed her the Black Canary, sweet homage to the original.

Nothing is ever simple in the lives of vigilantes there are always highs and extreme lows and somewhere in the middle there is a mending road that the past can stay there and a future of promises can make its footing. The old script that time changes things moves them all along. Some people believe in happily ever after. The notions that heroes deserve to flourish. Well in this case, Oliver Queen gets the girl. John Diggle gets to add two more little ones to his family. Laurel Lance is finally happy with her life choices. Roy Harper loves being an uncle with Thea by his side. Felicity Smoak loves bossing people in her own company… Unfortunately, she gets bossed at home by a few prodigy fair-haired angelic offspring that are more like their dad each coming day as archery truly is becoming a family trait.

#fictober19 #olicity #oliver queen #felicity smoak #roy harper #arrow

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wellmeaningshutin · 7 years

Text

Short Story #57: Theatre.

Written: 3/5/2017

Look, before I start telling you about what happened, I’m going to be very honest. I do not understand theater at all. I just don’t get the appeal of it, but it always seems like there’s something I’m missing out on, because everybody keeps making a fuss about it, so I’ve tried very hard to understand the appeal. Maybe its just hard for me to suspend my disbelief, so every time I see a play, reenactment, or whatever, I just see a bunch of actors in costumes saying words that they’ve memorized, and the whole thing is just so alien to me. Maybe I don’t understand why people would spend so much time trying to memorize movements, words, etc, like you have so much time in your life to do what you want to do, but these people spend most of their time trying to perfect like an hours worth of events, repeating them over and over. Its like they’re stuck in some strange time loop, where they’re cursed to keep repeating the same events in their lives, screaming inside at the horror of their cyclic existence. What kind of person would you have to be to do that, what had to go wrong in your life? I could be wrong about that being the reason, because, now that I think of it, I don’t care very much for improv either, so maybe I just hate people, but if I hated people then why would I care about their interest in theater?

Maybe I don’t understand people, especially since I can’t even form a clear reason for not liking theater. Maybe I just haven’t seen a play that has been good enough to spark my attention, especially since Shakespeare reminds me of being bored in high school, and most of the shows that I’ve been to have been reproductions of his work. Also, how come there always has to be a scheming, drunk character in his shows? What’s up with that? And how come people just walk around, saying their thoughts out loud, explaining stuff to the audience that they should be thinking to themselves. Yeesh, I can go on about this for a while, so let me just talk about what I meant to talk about. Sorry for wasting your time, officer.

So, because of this desire to understand this questionable form of performance, I started seeking out more and more forms that diverge from the normal expectations. Wow, that sounded pretentious. What I was trying to say, is I wanted more obscure and experimental stuff, I wanted to see what it was like with the more underground theater. Its the same way I got into books, because what I learned in college is even though people will talk their heads off of the importance of them, the classics can be boring as hell. Have you ever read the Inferno? Its just a guy walking around in the dullest version of hell, talking about all sorts of figures at the time. Like, its basically just fan fiction. However, I did find this not very well known book about a dog who knows the true meaning of life, but like it can’t tell anyone, not even other dogs, since evolution has only left it with the resources to communicate vague emotions. That book made me realize that I love reading, but I just hate the classics, the shit that everyone is supposed to agree is good. However I’m rambling again, and I need to get back to the point.

I think it may be a side effect of these anti depressants that I’m on, mainly since after my father killed himself life has seemed, right, thank you. Actually if you could keep doing that it would be great, reminding me whenever I’m getting off track, and going on and on about stuff that won’t make it on to the report. Because I know your time is very valuable, and this should be as quick as poss- oh, right, thank you again.

So, I end up going to that show, it took place in some large house, and it was one of those shows where the actors go about their business and you follow them from room to room, watching the drama as it unfolds. It was supposed to be the opening night, and some girl, with plenty of facial piercings, had told me that it was going to be really great, like a modern masterpiece, and I figured why not? Thinking about it, I’m not sure if she had reliable opinions on theater, and I could’ve just been attracted to-oh, okay, sorry.

The show was about some family drama stuff, like the typical things that people feel are so raw to talk about, so off limits, but really its the same things that everyone mentions when they want to feel like they’re covering taboo issues. So basically, some couple is fighting because the girl had an abortion, there’s a character that’s addicted to heroin, one of their dad’s turns out to be gay and its a big shock, that kind of stuff. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was actually supposed to be the point of it all, it was supposed to be like one of those typical dramas, but then again I’ve only seen one or two of those dramas, so who am I to say what they’re all like? A lot of them can be pretty good, probably, and how would I never know it if I haven’t seen it?

Don’t worry, I’m starting to catch myself. I can tell when I’m drifting away. Actually, could you write “THE PLAY” on a piece of paper and put it in front of me? If I could stare at that, it may be enough to keep me on track, enough to keep me focused on the issue at hand.

Thank you, this is perfect.

So, the play keeps going on and it gets pretty boring, like I can tell the other spectators know where this is all going, and the acting is melodramatic, so its hard to even connect with any of the characters. I know I have trouble doing that in general, but I was whispering with another spectator and that’s what they told me, and they seemed like they were able to appreciate the art. At one point, the heroin addict is giving this long monologue, and then the gay dad has to reply and its really confusing, like it didn’t make any sense as a response to the speech that was just given. Then, everyone realizes that, hey, the guy just skipped a couple lines, and it looks really, really bad. Unprofessional would be the best word to describe it. And you can see that the actors are pissed off at the actor playing the dad, and they’re trying to stay in character but oh man does it seem tough for them. Gay dad is trying to improvise an explanation, but its really just pretty pathetic, his embarrassment really didn’t help him, and that’s when the heroin guy broke character and tried to attack him.

The addict chased the dad around the house, threatening to kill him for ruining the show, but for some reason I’m completely out of it, and still kind of confused about what’s going on. That’s how I realized it might be part of the show, and I was whispering with some guy, he had a mustache I think, and we were trying to figure out if we should leave, intervene, keep watching, or what. It was really pretty confusing, especially when the other actors looked scared, but then they tried to keep going with the show to calm everyone down, and so the daughter is giving a monologue to her husband, who is addicted to online pornography, about something, I couldn’t even hear it, all I could hear was one of the actors screaming, “I’ll kill you you son of a bitch! This was supposed to be my big break you rat bastard!”

As somebody who doesn’t understand theater, I can tell you that the show was really not helping with that. What was the point of all of this, these actors pretending that their show was falling apart, like if I wanted to see a bad show, wouldn’t I go see a bad show? There was a rock opera about Anne Frank opening on the same night, and I was figuring that I might as well have gone to that. Yet, maybe its just me. My ex wife could have been right, maybe its just hard for me to see meaning in anything, but then again that was only because she was trying to get me to join that new age cult of hers. She wants to follow some guru to some walled off compound where she can survive off of roots, do intensive farm work, all to harness positive energy, but I’m the bad guy, right? I’m the one who is broken because I don’t want to join some wacko cult. And then she has the gall to bring my dead father into it, and tries to get custody of-

Oh yeah, sorry about that. It was my fault. No, no, the paper really is working, but I looked up at the clock to check the time, and then I forgot about the play, but I’ll get back to that now. Again, I’m sorry about that.

So, the actors are still trying to continue the story, and the one guy is chasing the other around, and then finally the frantic pair starting yelling in weird ways, so most of us decided to go check out what was happening, because we couldn’t even hear the other people. Seeing that actor get stabbed to death, and all that blood that spilled out everywhere, that was when everybody started to wonder if it was a part of the play or not. I think some guy fainted, he was build like a pickup truck, but he must have been afraid of blood or something, because down he went. It was like somebody chopped a tree down. Even the other actors came in and freaked out, and the murderer is standing there, knife in hand, covered in blood, trying to tell everyone that its okay, and not to worry.

Somebody, I think, called the police around this point in the show, I think that’s the reason the call went out in the first place. I’m only guessing it was here, because some crying woman had went out the front door, and it would make sense if she was the one who dialed 911. She missed the best part, though, because the only time I had a laugh when I’ve been to a show, was when that wild eyed, blood soaked, knife wielding man, with the body at his feet, started to try to get back in character and tried to continue their show. The other actors weren’t having it, and they just had their hands over their mouths, too shocked to even respond to the situation. And the guy starts yelling at them to say their lines, but the don’t even move, so he starts trying to do their parts for them, even the parts of the guy he murdered, and it was great.

A lot of people judged me for laughing, they thought it was real and were just starting to react. Hell, one guy questioned if he should try to restrain the one man show, but somebody else pointed out that he was armed, and who knew if there were any diseases in the blood he was covered in, so most people went into the living room to figure things out, even the other actors did. I know that the actors mentioned something about calling the cops, but that was also part of the show, but I’ll get into that later. Meanwhile, me and this older woman, like in her 60’s, an aged hippy type, are the only ones watching the guy’s performance, and we’re just cracking up at it. He starts to forget the other people’s lines, and the woman explained to me that it was probably because it wouldn’t make sense for the actor to remember every line, since they mainly just knew their own, and the ones that they were supposed to respond or react to.

So, while he’s messing up these lines, he starts to pretend to get mad at himself, and he does this comical routine where he starts slapping himself on the forehead, insulting himself with these asinine names, and you can see the actor who is playing dead trying not to laugh. Like, his body is shaking and everything because the other guy is just being so ridiculous, but the whole time all of the other spectators are taking the whole thing very, very seriously. In order to not get the dead body to explode into laughter, which I’m not sure if this was a part of the show or not, the madman starts shifting gears and recites some scenes from some Shakespeare play, putting on a deep voice, using all of these exaggerated movements, and it just killed me.

And then the police came in, but I think it was the fake police at this point. They started talking about how they received a call about a murder, that whole routine, and all of the audience members are freaking out, saying stuff like “Yeah he’s in there, go get him” “Please do something about it” and all of that panicked behavior. I probably don’t have to explain it to you, huh? You look like you’ve seen your fair share of trouble, you look pretty tough and seasoned. I know you probably get this all of the time, but I really have to ask, have you ever shot anybody? No? Really? Huh. It seems like cops have to kill people every day, every day it sounds like there’s some big violent crime out there that you guys have to deal with, or there’s some incident where you guys shoot somebody that was minding their own business, but-

What? What do you mean that you mostly just talk to people? Taking statements, filling out paperwork? No, that can’t be right, what about the high speed chases, the junkies who threaten your lives every day and- no shit? Are you messing with me? So, really, you really spend more time giving people tickets and directions than you’ve ever spent in a dangerous situation. Well what was the most dangerous- oh okay, I’ll get back to the story then..

So, the fake cops come into the kitchen to see the whole commotion, and the blood soaked guy is down on one knee, saying “Out, out brief candle. My whole country for a candle, doth it be so-” or something along those lines, I can’t remember it word for word. They take a look at the scene, like a long, real hard look, and they turn to the crowd behind them and demand to know who made the call. The guy is still doing the bit during all of this. A woman in the back raised her hand, which confused everyone, but I think that was because she was the one who actually dialed 911. And one of the actors raises their hand, and one of the fake cops starts lecturing them about how much of a nuisance it is to make fake calls to 911, and how you could go to prison for it, and the actor is looking really worried.

Then, one of the cops pulls out their fake gun, and puts it right against the temple of the actor who was supposed to call. He says, “Does this seem like a joke to you? This is how it feels when you make prank calls, not to funny is it? What if I killed you, would you think that was funny? Huh?” The audience started to freak out at that point, and everyone started yelling, cell phones were pulled out to record it, and I was lost once again. I couldn’t hear what the murderer was saying, due to all of the commotion, and this whole new layer seemed to have lost me. And then things got more confusing when more fake police showed up, but this time it turned out to just be you guys. That’s kind of the gist of everything that lead up to your arrival.

Is that all?

Oh yeah, the reason why I’m in the hospital in the first place. Well, if you knew the general theme of everything leading up to you guys getting called, why did you let me ramble on about the play? I can start to believe that your jobs really aren’t that interesting, if you let me talk about all of that thespian nonsense juts so you can put more time between now and when you have to write up all of that paperwork. I had a cousin who used to work for the IRS, and his job doesn’t seem too far off from what you guys do, like the main difference is you guys get to go outside and carry guns. I never understood why they never gave IRS agents guns, though, because they always get all sorts of threats, and you think they would need some way to protect themselves when they were out in the world, but then again the suicide rate would probably sky rocket due to the tedium of the job. That’s why I think my father did it, like he was so sick of his job, but they made it so that he would have to work five more years if he wanted a decent retirement fund, and he just couldn’t last that long. How’d he do it? Oh, well he was a simple man, and he just leaped right in front of a train, it was the most exciting way he could think of dying, he wrote that in the note, but it was too good of a jump and both of his legs were torn clean off, so he sat there at the side of the, the..

No, no I don’t need a tissue, I’m fine. Lets just talk about something else. Like, I get that we’re nearing the end of what you need for the report, and you really don’t want to write it, but I think its time for me to finish. My antidepressants are wearing off, and so is the pain medication, and I’d really just like to rest as soon as I can. No, the doctors aren’t aware that I’m taking-but no more stuff to get me all sidetracked. What happened to the officer who kept trying to get me all focused on the story, now why are you suddenly causing me to be distracted?

Okay, so when you guys came in and were confused by the scene playing out, with the fake cops and all, it really just got too confusing for me, so I decided to step outside and smoke a cigarette, just to wait it out until there was a point in the show that would make more sense, but after I was finished smoking I probably would’ve just left. However, and this is the reason I’m lying here, some crack head comes up to me and starts demanding that I give him some money, or he’s going to have to do something that he really doesn’t want to do. I start fishing around in my pockets to comply, but he says I’m taking too long and just starts jabbing at me with something that was really sharp, I think it was like a screwdriver or something, and it was hard for me to react to it because my hands were in my back pockets.

So, the fucker doesn’t even try to get my money, because somebody starts to come out of the house, and he just scurries off into the night, leaving me to bleed out for no reason. He was about five foot four, had a round, swollen nose, Caucasian, shaved head, scar on the right side of his lip, that’s all I can remember. Now, what you should put in that report is that the convoluted play created a dangerous environment for me, because not only was it in a bad neighborhood, but because of the whole way it was set up, the people who came out and saw me just thought it was still a part of the whole show. So I’m lying there, full of holes, bleeding out all over the plays, begging for them to call an ambulance, begging for them to get the police that are inside, to get the man who stabbed me, and the whole time they just watch and talk about how crazy the show is, and how many levels there are, while I’m grabbing at their feet, crying because they won’t listen to me, and I really thought I was going to die. It really seemed like the end.

#Free Write #Short Story #Writers on Tumblr #Theatre #Acting

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chusset · 7 years

Text

Kitchen Confessional

so @carolionel i know I’m like...working on a lot of different shit at once lol but this one has been in my head for quite a while so I thought I’d start it. Like I think I briefly mentioned the idea before that maybe while on an Alch mission, Jo gets snatched up by a few Alchs and, though she manages to escape some hours later, she is unwilling to talk about what happened, and just decides to try and move on. Well! That doesn’t work so well....

Anyway this is probably just one part of two or so so anyway!! I hope it is gewd

---------

Jolene nearly choked Klaus. Though she felt like she could choke anyone right about now.

"Here's zhe medicine....” Klaus said, looking miserable as he handed her a bottle of pills. "Just take these for two weeks and your chlamydia will clear right up. Leon, too, make sure he has zhese. There's plenty for you both...."

Jolene sighed and nodded. "Sure. Yeah, thanks, Klaus...Look, you can't...mention this to Leon, alright?"

Klaus didn't meet her gaze as he marked something on his clipboard, seated in an examination room of the hospital. "Well...patient confidentiality, I suppose...But...You really should talk to Leon...I know you two could work through this. He'd be hurt, but if you just tell him you made a mistake and cheated---"

"I didn't!" she snapped, going from quiet and still to looking murderously furious. "Don't you dare fucking suggest that I---"

"Woah, woah! Calm down!" Klaus, stumbling away from her with his hands up in defense. "Jolene! Calm down! Vhat's zhe matter....? H-How else did you catch the..." He paused, brow knitting as he looked to her. "...J-...Jo...did something happen...?"

She didn't answer. She snatched the bottle from him and stood. "You can't tell Eloise, either. Or anyone.Think you can manage that, shorty?"

Klaus swallowed but slowly nodded, seeing just how miserable she looked. "Yes...Yes, of course, I won't breathe a word..."

"Good..." Jolene took her jacket and left, silently going through the hall back to her own lab.Leon was in there, examining the ingredients on a side of a bottle. "Ahh, Jo, good, you're back..." he said, quiet in thought. "I've just been looking at this medicine for stomach bugs, and I thought we could replace the ingredients of--"

"That's great, honey, but I-I'm kind of tired..." Jolene said quietly to him, going to give his hand a squeeze. She looked tired, as well as her age. Her spell did good in keeping wrinkles, gray hair and weight gain at bay, but it did little good in disguising the exhaustion on her face. "You go ahead and tinker with it, hmm?”

Leon frowned, fixing the glasses on his nose. "Jo...are you alright? You're not catching something, are you?" he said, sliding off a red glove to gingerly feel her forehead.

"I'm fine," she shrugged, setting down her bag. "I'll make dinner, okay? You go ahead and do whatever you wanted to do..."

"Let me help with dinner, hmm?" Leon said, sliding his arms around her. "Eloise brought over some vegetables she got from the market earlier, I can fix up stew..."

"It's okay, babe, I've got it," Jolene said, kissing his forehead and smiling softly and tiredly. "You just let me make you something good, okay?"

Leon nodded, not wanting to upset her. She already looked like she was on the verge of tears. She'd been so upset for weeks, quiet and looking like she'd cry at any time. She looked weak. She didn't look like the Jo he knew.

"Jo..." he said after a moment. "You've been very quiet since...well, since that Alch held you hostage. I know it must've been horrifying, and it's clearly affected you...You know I'm here to listen if you just want to talk or anything..."

Jolene stepped away, not looking at him as she turned to go in the kitchen. "I'm fine. They didn't hurt me. Just smacked me around a bit, I've taken worse. I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Leon watched after her and sighed, knowing better than to bug her. He went back to examining the medicine, thinking briefly of a few notes he and Jo had taken on it a few weeks back. He glanced around for his notebook, before remembering it was on her legal pad with the pink paper. He plucked her satchel from the floor, rifling through it a moment before finding the legal pad. He pulled it out, and paused at seeing a bottle of medicine just beneath it. Thinking it was an experiment of hers, he plucked it out, examined the label. He slowly paled, his brow knitting as he rose with a shaky hand still holding the bottle.

Jolene chopped vegetables in the kitchen, figuring even she couldn't mess up a simple soup. She suddenly felt a presence, and turned around to see Leon in the doorway leading to the kitchen, his expression unreadable. "Hey, I told you I could get dinner on my own...What's wrong?"

Leon took a moment before swallowing, and asking her quietly, "Who do you need medicine for chlamydia?"

Jolene stopped chopping carrots and wobbled briefly, anxiety pulsing through her. She swallowed and set the knife down, going to wash her hands before turning back to Leon. They made eye contact for a long moment before she sighed softly and looked away. "I...didn't want to tell you..."

"Clearly."

"I didn't think it was important..."

"You didn't think it was important!" Leon snapped, looking absolutely furious now rather than sad. "You're joking! Is this why you've been so moody? Guilt too much for you, or were you just trying to figure out how to tell me that you..."

"Leon, wait, just listen..." Jolene asked quietly, struggling not to cry. "I can explain..."

"Unless you weren’t ever planning on telling me!" he cried, throwing the bottle of pills down at her feet. "How could you? I thought--- Jo, I know we can argue, but we've always been so mad about each other--"

"A-And we still are!"

"They warned me, too!" he cried, eyes beginning to swim with furious and hurt tears. "I barely moved in when people around here started telling me to be wary of you! Oliver Franchott said you'd sleep with anything with two legs-- and of course I soon learned not to believe anything out of his idiot mouth, but it was others! Sympathetic looks when I told people I was with Doc Ainsworth, warnings of "Be careful", "don't get too invested"--- All I ever heard was stuff like that for weeks, and I always, always thought they were just idiots who didn't know a thing about you, wh-who just think you're mad as a hatter and that's it, who didn't know what I knew about you, that you were passionate and caring and loved me, and...." He seethed, rubbing tears from his eyes while Jo stayed quiet. "I should've listened to them, shouldn't I have? I bet it was Sebastian! I see how you look at that him, constantly! And the way he looks at you--I should have known! I should have figured!"

"You should have figured I was a slut who'd cheat on you with ease..." Jolene said quietly, glancing away from him.

Leon was too furious to say anything but. "Yes," he seethed, hand trembling from where he held on to the counter. "So who the hell was it, huh?" he asked with a humorless laugh.

Jolene stayed quietstill before looking up at him, her expression broken and hurt. Her expression immediately stilled him back into silence. He hadn’t ever seen her look that way. "....Those Alchs raped me," she told him plainlysoftly, blinking back tears. "They tied me up, beat me...and then raped me. Repeatedly. And I guess one of the five Alchemists who hit me and pulled my hair and touched me everywhere had....the clap. I should have gotten tested sooner, but...Well, shit, Leon, that wasn’t exactly the top item on my mind," she said, sounding bitingly bitter.

Leon listened to her and processed this before sighing shakily, all fury draining from his face and being replaced by a look of weak horror. "Jo....” he began brokenly. “Jo, I-I didn't...I didn't know. I am so sorry, I---"

"Because crazy Doc Ainsey is just a slut!" she screamed, rage splitting from her now. "Because Doc Ainsey can save everyone in this God-forsaken While and still not be worth shit. She neeeever wanted any love or affection, just another dick in her to fill that empty void! She'd throw the most perfect relationship she's ever had away just for another quick bang! Run right back to her ex as soon as one dick between her legs ain't good enough! Because Doc Ainsey's trash, she's nothing---"

"Jo, Jo, no, that's not what I--- I'm sorry, I am so sorry, I-I was just angry and--"

"I know you were fucking angry!" she yelled, fists clenched as miserable tears slid down her cheeks. "I could see that as you told me how everyone around here apparently thinks I'm some slutty pariah that'll ruin your life. And apparently you should have believed them. Well, you believe whatever you want to hear, Leon!”

“Jolene..." Leon said quietly, stepping closer to try and hold her hands. "Please, Please, I'm s--"

"Don't fucking touch me, Leon!" she cried, shoving his hands away. Her breathing was ragged and tight, and she trembled as she held her arm out to keep him at bay. "Don't0--don’t touch me. I want you out."

Leon's expression broke. "Jo, wait--"

"No! Now! I want you out right fucking now!" she screamed, and she looked so furious that he quickly stepped back, knowing when she was on the verge of losing it. "I don't want you back here! This is my house and my lab and my world! You come into my clinic, into my house, into my bed and you have the fucking gall to speak to me like I---" She seethed and shook her head, furiously fighting the urge to snap as an eerie calm washed over her. "I never want to see you again. Go back to 2-Fort for all I care."

Leon held his hands up defensively but sighed shakily. "Jo... Come on, please, let's just talk, I'm sorry--"

"I told you, get out, get out right fucking now before I haul your ass out myself. Make a spectacle out of you. Then we can match!”

Leon swallowed hard but knew he wouldn't be able to get a word in. He hadn't ever seen her so hurt and furious, and he felt horrible for getting so upset that he pushed her to that point. "O-Okay, Jo..." he told her quietly, and quickly started for the portal door. Jo watched after him, breathing jagged as she tried to calm down. As soon as she heard the portal door close, she sank to the floor and cried, hugging her knees to her chest and feeling like she'd break.

--------

Eloise hummed contently, fixing up dinner while her six-month-old son sat on a blanket on the floor, playing with his stuffed animals and rattles. There was a knock on the portal door, and baby Leon looked up at the sound. He quirked his head and cooed, kicking his chubby legs with delight.

"Yes, that means company's coming over..." Eloise told her with a smile, giving his head of dark hair a gentle pat as she went to get the door. She smiled at seeing her son's namesake, but frowned when she saw just how distressed he looked. "Leon? Dear, what's the matter?" she asked, and her son shrieked happily at seeing grandpa.

Leon sniffed and rubbed at his aching temples. "....Do you mind if I stay here a night or two?" he asked her quietly.

Eloise's brow knit and she nodded. "Of course, of course...Why don't I make you a cup of tea and we can talk?"

Leon swallowed and nodded, knowing that if anyone would know what to do, it would be Eloise. "That...That would be wonderful...Danke..."

Eloise put dinner to simmer and got her and Leon cups of tea. Little Leon sucked on his binky, sitting happily in his mother's lap while he played with his stuffed tiger that Lionel made him. Eloise cuddled him close and listened to Leon as he told her about finding her pills, getting into an argument, and Jo finally confessing what happened.

"I didn't...mean to get so angry like that," he sighed softly, briefly drying his eyes as a few tears welled in them. "I-I know I should have calmed down and asked her about it before I...." He looked up to Eloise. "I don't think she'll be able to get past this...She's already been so hurt and changed....Sh-She needed me and I...I didn’t know..."

"Leon," Eloise said gently, and her baby made a small cooing sound and looked up at her at hearing his name. She chuckled softly and gave him a kiss on the head. "Not you, silly....Leon, I'd slap a man across the face if he insinuated I had cheated. Especially with an ex that was now a good friend...And I would be angry at him for a very long time."

"That's reassuring..."

"But that's me," Eloise said, reaching to give his hand a gentle pat. "You and Jolene are both...very ill tempered and compulsive. You both are quick to get angry, and you know this about each other. And when two hot-headed, compulsive people get together, these sorts of things happen. Mean things are said, regrets are made, people get kicked out of the house for a night or two...I don't think you've ever had to deal with something like realizing that the love of your life might be cheating on you. And she's never had to deal with realizing that the love of her life would believe this..."

"I don't believe it..." he sighed shakily. "I know she loves me, b-but when that sort of thing is just staring right at you..."

"No matter how much you love someone, seeds of doubt can be planted easily. I know I would instantly jump to that conclusion if I found chlamydia medication in Klaus' bag. No matter how much I love him, and no matter now much I know he loves me, it's just a textbook case for a possible affair," Eloise told him. She sighed softly. "I've felt something was wrong with Jolene...I usually don't like to invade my friends' emotions, but she has been so...weak and sad and tired and lonely..." She blinked back tears and shook her head, always feeling her friends' emotions on a hard level. "...I think she's just needed a lot of tender, loving care, but hasn't been letting herself express that or accept it..."

Leon sighed shakily. "I've seen, she's been so distant and quiet...I've tried comforting here, but she won't let me..."

"Maybe make her feel like you want to help. I feel like she's nervous that you feel like you need to comfort her, as her lover...If she didn't even feel she could confide in you about being raped...Do you two ever really talk about how you feel?"

He thought a moment and sighed. "No...We'll tell each other when the other does something that bothers us, but...that's usually the extent of it...We're honestly not very open emotionally..." he admitted.

"You two love each other a lot," Eloise said with a warm smile. "And this...this will pass. Give her a bit of space for now, but you are what she is most passionate about in this world. She'll forgive you. And once she does, you can both see to it that her heart starts healing," she said, giving a gentle kiss on her son's forehead when he squirmed. "You got a wet diaper? Come on, Mama will change you..."

"I can get him, you go ahead and finish cooking..." Leon said, gently scooping up the baby, who smiled and kicked his legs. He snuggled little Leon close, talking quietly to him as he went for the nursery. "Grandpa will have a sleepover with you tonight. I'll eat dinner with you, and maybe your mother will even let you stay up til 7:30~"

The baby just grinned up at him, not understanding what he was saying, but just happy to be cuddled and loved. "You're just like your mother..." Leon chuckled softly, laying the baby down to change his diaper. Little Leon whined at his legs being bare, but was soon contently sucking on his pacifier again in a fresh diaper, reaching up for Leon to take him again. "You're happy now, hmm..." the doctor smiled fondly, picking the baby back up and bouncing him. He sighed softly and gave little Leon a hug, feeling like he just needed some comfort now. The baby sucked his pacifier happily and nestled into Leon's arms, always very calm when he got snuggled. Leon just held the baby for a while before he heard Klaus come home downstairs, and he sighed and started down with the baby. Little Leon grinned so wide when he saw Klaus that the binky fell out of his mouth. He made a noise of excitement and held out his arms, and Klaus smiled and eagerly went to scoop his son up.

"Hi, buddy!" he exclaimed, hugging his son close and kissing him all over, making the baby squirm and giggle. Once he'd properly given his son plenty of love, Klaus looked up to Leon, his expression softening. "...Did you talk to Jo?"

"Yes...how do you know?"

"She came to me for medicine earlier...I know I shouldn’t say anything, but...What happened?"

"Let's talk on it later, sweetie..." Eloise said quietly, coming to kiss her husband's cheek. "I made beef stew and pasta salad. And I picked your favorite up from the store."

"Dutch apple pie?" Klaus asked with a spark in his eye, looking like an excited little boy being told he could have candy.

"The very same," Eloise giggled at his expression, giving him a loving Eskimo kiss. "Oooh, I missed you today

Leon sighed deeply and a bit sadly, wondering what it took for them to be so deeply in love without complication. Of course he loved Jolene madly, and he honestly wasn't interested in a relationship that entailed gooey pet names and affectionate cooing around every corner, but surely Klaus and Eloise had some other secret that kept them so happy?

"Mmm, well..." Eloise thought when Leon brought the topic up at dinner. "I suppose it's a lot of things...For one, everything with 2-Fort just made me realize that my darling may very well be with me one moment and gone the next..."

"And I feel the same about her past with fighting Alchemists," Klaus said, taking her hand to gently kiss her knuckles. "From the very beginning, we've always known good and well that our time may be short..."

"And he just made me so happy...' Eloise smiled warmly. "I used to be embarrassed about how deeply I adored every inch of him, but now I couldn't imagine keeping quiet about that. I do, I love every bit of him, and he deserves to know that all the time."

Klaus blushed at this and chuckled shyly. "And she never lets me forget that I'm loved...Sometimes we'll get in an argument, but I think after a while, we both just get tired of being upset with each other, and we work it out easily..."

Eloise warmly kissed his cheek. "I think we both just...want to be madly in love, and life is hard enough as it is without arguing or getting upset with each other..." She looked to Leon. "Maybe you and Jo just need to have a plan, like...when you start to argue, take a moment and think, 'is this really something I want to be upset about, or something I want to upset them about'?"

"I know the both of you usually like to be right, so it may be a process..." Klaus chuckled softly.

"That's true, but I think the both of you definitely deserve that. And when you get in the habit of NOT arguing, soon enough your default will always be...happy," Eloise said with a shrug and a smile.

Leon sighed softly. "...The thing about arguing is good...I just...I get nervous that we'll wind up some boring old married couple..."

"Oh, so, like Klaus and I."

"You know what I mean," Leon chuckled softly to Eloise. "We used to run around and get Alchs to dissect and we'd discard their bodies at Franchott's jail....We'd be so into each other after that that we left cleaning up the lab til the next day...And we used to make love in any place we could find that was empty..."

Eloise and Klaus quickly shared a nervous glance at this.

“Well...” Klaus continued. “Remind her of that time. Of course, I highly doubt she’s been very eager to have sex, but it’s the sentimentality for you two...”

Leon sighed through his nose and nodded. “I think I’ll go back after dinner...see if she’ll want to talk...”

“I think that’s a lovely idea...” Eloise nodded encouragingly.

“Can I bring Little Leon along? I don’t think she’ll try attacking me if I have the baby....”

Little Leon grinned unsuspectingly to the doctor, his face covered in pasta sauce as he ate.

-----

Lionel was the one who answered Jolene’s portal door. Upon seeing Leon, he squeaked and fumbled to slam the door.

“Hey!” Leon grunted, sticking his foot firmly in to keep the door from closing. “Lionel!”

“J-J-Jolene says t-to tell you t-to f-f-fuck off!” Lionel cried, leaning his entire weight against the door that Leon could easily slam open.

“Lionel, just listen---!” “She! Said! F-F-Fuck! O-Off!”

Leon gave the door a firm push so he could at least look at Lionel. “Listen to me!! I just want to talk with her!”

Lionel stopped leaning on the door, tears sliding down his cheeks. He looked up to Leon with a trembling lower lip. “W-We both know that I can’t st-top you...but please...D-Do you really th-think she’ll ap-preciate another man f-f-forcing his w-way in where she d-doesn’t want him to?”

Leon was about to argue that this wasn’t similar at all before sighing softly with a nod. “...I don’t want to push things any farther with her.”

Lionel blinked in surprise before swiftly nodding. “That’s...very g-good of you. Th-thank you.”

“When can I see her, though?”

Lionel sighed and looked away. “She says she’ll be happy if you never speak to her again. But it’s p-probably just her e-emotions talking...I-I’ll call you when she seems alright...”

Leon swallowed, but nodded and accepted this. “Will you...tell her that I love her?”

Lionel considered this a moment. “Um...she’ll probably hit me for opening the door to you if she knew...”

“Right, right...” Leon sighed and nodded again. “I...I’ll wait for your call.”

Lionel nodded, about to step back inside before shooting forward to embrace the much taller man. “She’s so miserable without you,” he croaked before Leon could react. “She loves you, Leon...I know she’s exhausting and makes you want to pull your hair out, or maybe scream sometimes, but she loves you.....”

Leon let Lionel hug him, just glad that the young man couldn’t see the tears welling up in his own eyes. “...I love her, too. And I’m...I’m going to make things right with us again. I swear it.”

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thisdaynews · 5 years

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Can Trump Still Sue His Way Out of Trouble?

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/can-trump-still-sue-his-way-out-of-trouble/

Can Trump Still Sue His Way Out of Trouble?

To keep hidden the details of his long-clandestine finances, Donald Trump has been waging a legal war wildly unusual for a commander in chief. He and his allies and associated business entities have sued two big banks he did business with plus Trump’s own accounting firm as well as the Democratic chairman of the congressional oversight committee. So far, federal judges have rejected these lawsuits, and Trump’s attorneys have appealed to keep the cases going.

These tactics, testing the limits of the separation of powers that underpin the government of this country, have been called “outlandish” in Congress. To those, though, who have followed Trump’s career, they’re nothing if not predictable. For nearly half a century, Trump, 72, has used lawsuits as cudgels and prods and publicity stunts. He and his wingmen have used them, or threats of them, to harass, to deflect and delay, to punish opponents and protect his brand, his money, his image, himself. Even in the face of losses, he has used them to find a way to wins.

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The difference now is that Trump’s legal arsenal includes not just an array of personal attorneys but the vast resources of the Department of Justice—which at times he has hoped would serve the same role as his most bare-knuckled advocates. He is fighting personal legal battles that have ramifications today and potentially well into the future for the nation’s most important public office. Apples-to-apples numbers on this front are hard to come by, according to experts on the presidency and the judiciary, but scholars are confident in stating that Trump (with the possible exception of Richard Nixon) is unique in this regard. “I know of no president who was so openly combative and willing to sue and be sued,” said presidential historian Robert Dallek, who is working on a book calledHow Did We Get Here: From TR to Donald Trump.

The people who have known him the longest are not surprised in the least. “He sues,” said Barbara Res, the Trump Tower construction manager and a former executive vice president of the Trump Organization. “That’s his M.O. He sues.”

“It’s just another tool in his war chest,” said Jack O’Donnell, the former president of the Trump Plaza casino in Atlantic City, New Jersey. “He uses it to wear people out, whether it’s financially or emotionally.”

“He’s used litigation historically to keep hostile forces at bay and to delay reckonings,” Trump biographer Tim O’Brien said. “He’s also used it to try to embarrass competitors, critics or opponents. And I think by and large he’s done that successfully. He’s the poster child for the abuses and inefficiencies of the American court system.”

But can it work in this new venue? “That,” O’Brien said, “is the question that’s being tested right now: Is Donald Trump, as president, above the law?”

***

He’s not above the law.He’s just using it like any other citizen can, and should. That’s the view, at least, of Alan Dershowitz, the Harvard Law professor emeritus and frequent Trump defender. And it might even serve a useful political function.

“Bringing lawsuits is a way of invoking the system of checks and balances,” Dershowitz said, “and presidents historically have brought lawsuits, have responded to lawsuits—it’s a way of bringing the judiciary into the system of checks and balances that are tripartite in nature.” He called “reasonable” litigation “a perfectly appropriate use of the system of checks and balances.”

If nothing else, Trump has had an abundance of practice. His exhaustive history of weaponizing the courts started in 1973, when DOJ sued Trump and his father for racist rental policies in their fiefdom of outer-borough apartment buildings. Trump responded by hiring Roy Cohn, the notorious judicial and political fixer who’s been called “pure evil,” “a legal executioner,” and “one of the most despicable people in American history.” Cohn and Trump sued the feds right back—for $100 million. “The countersuit was bullshit,” said Elyse Goldweber, one of the prosecutors involved. But it extended the timetable of the case and turned it into a public relations skirmish as much as a matter to be settled purely in court. Nearly two years later, Trump and his father signed a consent decree pledging to change their ways, “one of the most far-reaching ever negotiated,” as DOJ put it. Trump, unchastened, insisted it was a win—a precursor to one of his most telltale maneuvers. Furthermore, for the government, the aftermath was galling. With Cohn at the point, the Trumps for years dragged their feet, exasperating subsequent prosecutors and effectively defanging the enforcement of the decree. As a whole, it would prove to be a singular font of so much of what was to come.

“Trump claims he went to Wharton business school,” presidential historian Doug Brinkley said. “What he did was attend Roy Cohn University.”

“Everything Trump does is steeped in Roy Cohn’s mentoring and teaching,” Cohn cousin David Lloyd Marcus said. “Roy knew that you could threaten to litigate, and that often that was enough. But also Roy knew that you could tie up things in the courts for years.Years. This is all right from the Roy playbook.”

A voracious pupil of the ruthless attorney, Trump has sued or been sued at least 4,000 times, according to the yeoman’s work of reporters fromUSA Today. He has sued people over unpaid royalties in licensing deals. He has sued Miss Pennsylvania. He has sued Bill Maher. He has sued the creator ofJeopardy!andWheel of Fortune. He has sued Scotland. He has sued New Jersey. He has sued New York City, and he has sued New York State. He has sued Palm Beach. He has sued an architecture critic from Chicago. He has sued the Secretary of the Interior and the National Indian Gaming Commission. He has sued people for using his surname in businesses … even though it was also their surname. He has sued and been sued by his first ex-wife. He has sued and been sued by Steve Wynn. He has sued and been sued by longtime business partners. “Just another lawsuit filed by Trump as a diversionary tactic,” a spokesman for one of those partners once said, “attempting to intimidate and to substitute publicity for substance.” He has threatened to file countless lawsuits he then hasn’t filed.

And legal documents show that when he has to give sworn answers, he is a grudging, hair-splitting deponent, performing his own versions of Bill Clinton-esque parsing. “Well, the word ‘developing,’” he once said in a deposition, “it doesn’t mean that we’re the developers.”

“I know lots about litigation,” Trump said in a speech at a get-together of the Nevada Republican Party in Las Vegas in 2011.

“Does anyone know more about litigation than Trump?” he asked at a campaign rally in January 2016. “I’m like a Ph.D. in litigation.”

“It’s a business for me,” he told Megyn Kelly that May, calling it a “tactic,” “and I have been successful—and I’ve, you know, used litigation, and sometimes I use it maybe when I shouldn’t, and sometimes I don’t.”

Last month’s lawsuit was not, for instance, the first time he sued Deutsche Bank. Back in 2008, he filed a suit against his most noted lender, attempting to wiggle his way out of $40 million of a construction loan he had personally guaranteed, worried he was staring at a catastrophe at the onset of the recession, taking the extraordinary legal position that the national real estate bust was an unforeseeable act of God, same as a tsunami or hurricane, that should void his obligations. It was, said one of the attorneys for the bank, “kind of crazy” and “kind of telling.”

“Every morning he wakes up and says, ‘Who can I sue?’” late public relations maestro John Scanlon once said.

“Anytime he thought someone was going to sue him,” Res said last week, “he would find a way to sue them first, because he wanted to be the plaintiff. He had this notion that if you were the plaintiff, you had a better chance of winning.”

There are, however, plenty of losses on Trump’s legal ledger.

He lost to the NFL. He lost to Marvin Roffman. He lost to Vera Coking of Atlantic City. And he lost to O’Brien, the biographer, whom he sued for reporting that Trump wasn’t worth what he said he was worth.

“He lost,” O’Brien stated bluntly. “Because the weight of everything was on our side. He routinely says publicly that he cost me a lot of money. He knows that’s not true. I didn’t pay a dime for any of that litigation. TheNew York Times’ lawyers were free to me, and my book publishers paid for outside counsel. And he knows he didn’t win that case. And he knows the results of choosing to litigate were far, far more damaging for him than for me.”

But O’Brien cautioned onlookers at this stage about reading too much into how that went down.

“That’s the exception, actually, in the long history of his litigation,” he said. “Most of the time he’s gotten the results he’s wanted.”

***

What was it that he wanted?To intimidate. To pay less. To save face by distancing himself from faltering projects. To fuel publicity. To buy time. To win in the longer run. For now, the Trump administration’s “win rate” in the federal courts is abysmal. The two recent suits he filed to block subpoenas for his records were summarily shot down, both judges ruling with unusual speed and dismissiveness. In these cases, if Trump was trying to delay, if he was trying to intimidate, it didn’t work. “It is simply not fathomable that a Constitution that grants Congress the power to remove a president for reasons including criminal behavior would deny Congress the power to investigate him for unlawful conduct,” one of the judges wrote, adding that Trump’s legal arguments had “fundamental” problems. At this, though, Dershowitz shrugged. “What’s important,” he said, “is what the courts ultimately decide, not how many lower courts go against him.”

“Contemporary presidents end up in court a lot, mostly regarding their interpretation of regulatory statutes,” said Texas A&M professor George C. Edwards III, the editor ofPresidential Studies Quarterly. “Trumpisunusual in his blanket resistance to accommodating congressional investigations, which leads to numerous lawsuits.”

“This is another case where President Trump’s behavior is norm-busting,” added Russell Riley, a presidential historian at the Miller Center at the University of Virginia.

Trump has never had to grapple with this high a degree of scrutiny and interference. He also and equally notably has never had more power, and one of the primary ways in which he’s already a president of great consequence is that he has markedly altered the ideological makeup of the federal judiciary—up to and including, of course, the Supreme Court. And this is what people who know him the best think about when they think about Trump in his role as litigator in chief.

“I think he expects that the judges he appoints will help him one day,” said Michael D’Antonio, a Trump biographer and a CNN analyst.

“I think he believes that every suit he’s involved in will go to the Supreme Court and he will win,” Res said.

“Because he’s got the deck stacked,” O’Donnell said.

“I think,” O’Brien said, “unless institutions, particularly the law enforcement community and Congress, stand up for the rule of law, Trump is going to do an end-run around people.”

“I think all he wants to do is get to November 2020,” said Carl Tobias, a law professor at the University of Richmond and an expert on the federal judiciary, “and he’ll be able to drag it out in the courts if he wants to.”

And it all traces back to the beginning. “He is using what he knows how to do best,” said veteran New York-based Democratic strategist Hank Sheinkopf, who’s been watching Trump for decades, “his knowledge of how to use the legal process and lawyers to stop his opponents from injuring him. And it’s worked. So why shouldn’t it work here?”

#Foreign #Politics #still #trouble

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