#p sure nobody ever really hears this because 1. its a part of the events of the past cinematic which i feel like nobody ever watches

[hannahwashington]

just found it in my files so i figured i'd post my fave piece of until dawn score

#p sure nobody ever really hears this because 1. its a part of the events of the past cinematic which i feel like nobody ever watches #2. jack is talking SO DAMN LOUD over the music which is a shame bc i love this song #so HERE #until dawn #i dont have any pics of jack handy. take my favourite image ever instead #when we Really get into the strings.... ooohhhh man

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

do you have any theories about the india trip ?? personally, im not sure what to think about it, but i’d love to hear your thoughts !!

(Sorry its taken me so long to answer this - it just got lost in my drafts cause im an idiot lmao 🤦‍♀️)

Im not entirely certain on what I believe happened in India, if in fact anything did happen at all - but more on that later! I guess though that these are the main theories (though if you have any differing opinions/theories, feel free to discuss them!):

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

2. John wanted to further their relationship, and Paul wanted to maintain the ‘friends with benefits’ situation they already had

3. Nothing significant happened between the two (yet something still changed in John)

I’ll try to discuss which theories I find the most convincing, compelling and substantiated - as well as offering my own opinions and hypothesis’s ^^ (discussion bellow the cut)

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

The theory I would say im most drawn to - not the theory that im necessarily most convinced by though - is that John made a move on Paul, after a few years of pining for him, and was subsequently rejected. Its a theory that I tend to be compelled by, but I have to admit that its one I struggle to justify entirely. The problem with this theory, for me, is that this is a conclusion ive drawn based mostly off of what their relationship appeared to look like after India. It seems as though something must have happened between them to have ruptured their relationship as profoundly as it did - and because they were on relatively good terms before India*, combined with certain inferences we could draw from comments John made regarding his feelings towards Paul and their relationship, it feels as though it’s possible that he made an advance on Paul, which was rejected and thus caused the ultimate disintegration of the Lennon/McCartney relationship.

(*I mean, their relationship was always complicated and difficult - but it seems that it was okay-ish prior to India, and then just inexplicably plummeted after the trip)

But nobody (as far as im aware) has confirmed, or even really alluded to, this advancement or rejection ever having happened. And the lack of evidence substantiating the claim is a major draw back for me!

However, I do also feel as though nobody’s really come out about anything that happened in India - all ive heard is that they meditated, wrote songs, John and Cyn fought, and Ringo ate baked beans. But like, more must have happened on the trip, surely? Im not saying the absence of information regarding the trip is proof that there was a big “lovers quarrel” between John and Paul, and that everyone involved in that trip is now just sworn to secrecy or something - but like, id just like to see a biographer really investigate the holiday, and try to conclude what events might have occurred during the trip, because as of right now, with the information we have, it seems to have been, bizarrely, both a lacklustre and uneventful, yet still hugely impactful event. If the narrative of the “India trip” were to be shifted in the future in light of new information, the same way the narrative of “Let It Be/Get Back” is being changed, I wouldn’t be surprised!

2. John wanted more, but Paul didn’t

Another popular theory is that John and Paul were engaged in something of a physical affair, but in India John proposed (or perhaps demanded even) that they take their relationship further, and Paul just wasn’t compelled to do so.

Beliefs vary regarding this, based on how far you personally think their relationship went: some might say they only ever did a little drunken experimenting with one another, and that it was just a fun fling until John suggested they take it further. Others might argue that they were in fact in a committed relationship, and John wanted to go public with it - or at the very least, demanded exclusivity between him and Paul.

In entertaining this theory, im most compelled to believe that John and Paul were engaged in occasional “flings”, and perhaps by ‘68 were even acknowledging that there was some deeper and more sincere between them - but ultimately, I don’t think Paul would have ever been inclined to fully commit to John, because I think he always wanted children and a family. In addition to this, though its clear John and Paul were passionate about one another, it isn’t clear how compatible they were in the long term - and with Paul being the more grounded of the too, I suspect he would have recognised this incompatibility, which John (the idealist) might not have.

Though I admit that John could certainly be unrealistic and irrational, im not convinced that he suggested to Paul they go public with their relationship, because I think John still had a fairly strong sense of his place in popular culture, and would have still been able to recognise that if they were to “come out”, it would probably deeply and irreparably damage both their careers - as well as George and Ringo’s too - at least amongst the general public. They’d still have some ardent fans, but their following overall would have become far more niche, and the “beatlemania” would’ve worn off swiftly. Im not sure if either of them would’ve been willing to take that heat in ‘68, especially not Paul, who as I mentioned earlier, I think might have recognised the futility and incompatibility inherent in their relationship.

Then again though, John was always a little “cocky”* when it came to his sexuality - I think if an interviewer were to genuinely have enquired into his sexuality, straight up asking him “Are you bi? Gay?” I get the sense that he would have told us! Sure he’d probably have dressed the response up with a dozen quick quips and jokes, but ultimately, I think he would have given a sincere response. And so, perhaps he did feel he had the confidence, at least in India, to actually “come out”, but if Paul wasn’t willing to make this official with him, perhaps this confidence dissipated.

(*No pun intended you pervs🤦‍♂️)

Another thing to note about India is that they’d have been relatively secluded, as well as off the drugs/drinks for the most part - and this would have forced them to really reflect upon their relationship. Perhaps John saw that he wasn’t contented with Cynthia, and recognised his desire for more from Paul - and so in such a raw state of mind, I can see how he’d become so shattered if Paul were to have rejected him (that statement could relate both to the first and second theory, I feel). Perhaps John made an advance upon Paul whilst they were both sober for the first time, and that changed their relationship somehow? Just thinking out loud here!

But again, this theory overall has the same problem as the first in that, though it appears to make sense, it still lacks proof; it ultimately isn’t a substantiated claim.

3. Nothing happened between J&P, but something changed

This is probably the theory that everybody is least interested in hearing, but I still think its a pretty valid one, albeit the least dramatic (In my opinion though its still a really interesting perspective to explore though!).

Its possible that nothing of particular significance happened in India, but something still shifted in John, causing him to vilify and reject Paul. The issue with this though, is that it begs the question: why did John undergo such a significant change in India then?

Id argue that perhaps John was making very subtle and slight moves towards Paul, that Paul either ignored or didn't pick up on. Id assume that perhaps John had been hinting at this desire for awhile now, and maybe he got it into his head that in India, where him and Paul would have a lot of time to be alone and intimate, his feelings would finally be reciprocated. But then, Paul never picked up on these hints, and never made any advancements - and this broke something within John. It would fit neatly within the Yoko narrative, because it offers reasoning to the abrupt but intense attachment John formed towards her almost immediately after India - as well as explaining the sudden vilification of Paul. But I suppose that the first two theories also fit pretty neatly within the Yoko narrative, because they all relate to the same basic concept that John wanted more from Paul, and Paul didn’t - and so he tried to replace him with Yoko.

I suppose though, that the this theory overall could also be countered by making the argument that Paul also began to spiral after India, and so some occurrence presumably must have happened to Paul too. I wonder though if its possible that maybe Pauls spiralling was kind of a result of Johns? I get the sense though that Paul would need a change in his life to cause his mental health to seriously deteriorate, but I don’t feel like the same is necessarily true for John - I think John is sort of the type to spiral, irregardless of whether his life undergoes a significant change or not, because I think John was the force driving a lot of the drama and troubles throughout his lifetime. So if Johns mental well-being started seriously deteriorating, I can see this being a cause of panic and anxiety for Paul.

But something that further inclines me to believe that an actual event occurred between John and Paul is this extract from Geoff Emmericks memoir (x)(id recommend reading the entire extract, its interesting!):

‘I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed.”’

It just really feels as though there was some confrontation between John and Paul that had to have happened to perpetuate the miscommunication later seen between them. Like if there hadn’t been some kind of confrontation, then I can’t really understand why Paul would be reluctant to speak about India, or harbour any regrets or dismay regarding the journey. Perhaps you could drill it down to the betrayal they appeared to have felt by Maharishi allegedly hitting on girls - but I feel like this was a “betrayal” mostly felt by John, I never really got the sense that Paul was deeply effected by it.

But yeah - those are the main theories I think.

Overall, I think that the third theory is probably the most substantiated claim, but I think it leaves a lot to desired. It just doesn’t feel like it totally fits together, as though theres more to the story - but I guess relationships and peoples psyches aren’t puzzles, and so not everything is always going to piece together perfectly; but I dunno.

Like I said though, the theory im most compelled by is the first. I acknowledge that it lacks evidence, but it just seems to make a lot of sense to me! But really, who knows what the hell happened in India?

If anyone else has an opinion on all this, or wants to expand upon or even suggest a new theory, feel free to! I always like hearing from you guys!

#mclennon #asks #@cinnamontoastandtears #thanks for the ask! #india #what the fuck happened in india #maharishi #pauls sexuality #discussion

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 80, Part 1

AHAHAHAHAH ITS HERE ITS QUEER ITS TIME TO FEAAAAAAAR. RIFTS HYPE TRAIN HAS ARRIVED AND LEFT THE STATION EITHER YOU ON OR YOU AINT NOW LETS GO IDK WHAT THE HELL IM TALKING ABOUT LETS JUST GOOOOOOO

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/619687513045483520/universe-falls-chapter-79

***

Chapter 80, Part 1: Rifts

LOMC GRFSX KB SEAJS XZJNHBVE NZ EHBXPU FVUK GHP UVAX LQM BIN VT OGLAR'E PJHNVE TSWF ESY EDH GFFTWQ SWWE 

Steven wasn’t sure when he’d voyaged out into the forest. The last thing he remembered, he’d been tucking himself in for the night, Lion taking up more than half the bed as he curled up right beside him. Upon bidding one final good night to the Gems as they went back into the temple, Steven had thought he had let himself drift off into a good night’s sleep, awash in the dulled, peaceful, calming chorus of crickets chirping and gentle breezes wafting through the trees just outside his window. 

And yet, he wasn’t. Because instead, he now found himself deep in the forest, so deep, in fact, that he couldn’t see any of the usual landmarks that told he was near the temple or the shack. To make matters even worse, it was still night, a pitch black one at that, with no stars or moon peeking through the dense tree canopy above him to guide his way home. Steven paused for a moment, taking in just how eerily silent the woods seemed to be as well, the air dead and surprisingly brisk, a far cry from the comfortable warmth he knew a summer night like this should have carried. The dense darkness and the deafening silence were both enough to unnerve the young Gem on their own, but it was only as that silence was broken by the briefest bout of soft sound somewhere in the distance that his heartbeat slowly started to pick up. 

“Uh… h-hello?” Steven called, his own voice echoing against the tall trees all around him. “Is… is anybody there…?”

He received no answer, at least not a direct one. Somewhere far away in the forest, that unknown noise rang out again, one that almost seemed to be some kind of laughter. Steven couldn’t quite make out who or what it was coming from, but he decided to follow it nonetheless in the hopes of figuring out what exactly was going on. So he forged a path through the trees, feeling his way through them more than anything else given how immensely dark the forest was. And yet, that darkness was soon brightened just a bit by a sparse spot of light peeking through the woods up ahead, one that just so happened to be in the same direction the faint laughter he kept hearing, which was growing louder, and clearer, the closer he wandered to it. 

Yet, the moment that laugh finally became clear enough for him to tell exactly who it belonged to, Steven suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were wide as he took in a sharp, startled gasp, and without even taking a second to think, he darted behind the nearest tree, hoping that the dream demon didn’t already know he was there. 

However, at least as far as he knew, it seemed as though he had been found out without even realizing it. “Come on out, kid!” Bill called, his triangular form large, bright, and looming as he passed by the tree Steven was taking refuge behind. “You can’t hide from me forever!”

Steven shuddered as he pressed tighter against the side of the tree, not needing to even think twice about why Bill was apparently on the hunt for him. He placed a protective hand against his gemstone, which was still tucked away under his shirt--out of sight, but still there, still ready for the dream demon’s taking nonetheless. It was an unspoken fear, but a very potent one, cemented at the back of his mind, ever since his frightful dream encounter with Bill weeks ago. And it seemed as though the dream demon still refused to let up as he’d finally come back to collect. 

“You know, running is just a waste of time, something you fleshbags are already running pretty short on by default!” Bill quipped, his shrill voice echoing throughout the forest how as it carried it’s usually teasing tune. “But yours will be even shorter when I’m through with you! If you want, you can go ahead and feel free to thank me for going to all the trouble to finally put you out of your misery!”

Steven didn’t dare respond to this cruel round of threats as he instead focused on remaining as quiet as possible, desperately hoping that Bill would eventually get tired of looking for him and leave. Even so, he was ready to summon his shield, his bubble, and anything else he had at his disposal in the event the demon did manage to spot him, even if he wasn’t sure any of them would actually be able to fend him off. Still, nothing could have prepared the young Gem for the violent explosion that rattled the entire area, nearly knocking him off his feet entirely. 

“Aha! Found ya!” Bill chimed in the immediate aftermath of his destructive attack. Steven gasped, a protective bubble surrounding him in an instant, yet surprisingly, the dream demon didn’t come into view as he still seemed to be somewhere else in the forest entirely. “Yeesh, I gotta hand it to you, you sure are resilient! After several back to back nights of this, I thought our ongoing game of cat-and-mouse here would have you way past your breaking point by now, Pine Tree!”

“P-Pine Tree…?” Steven whispered with a start, initially baffled until the realization struck him like a wave of frigid water. He had been wrong from the very start. Bill wasn’t here looking for him at all; instead, he was looking for‒ “Dipper!” 

His voice rang much louder than he had meant it to but Steven hardly cared. Without hesitation, he left the safety of his hiding spot behind, plowing through the forest as fast as his legs could carry him as he took up the very same search Bill was on, though for an entirely different reason instead. Every now and then, he happened to catch a glimpse of the dream demon himself through the sparse gaps in the trees, but thankfully Bill still hadn’t taken any interest in him whatsoever. Instead, his attention seemed to be solely devoted to finding Dipper, just as Steven’s now was as well. 

Another explosion tore through the forest, one that did succeed in tripping Steven up as several trees toppled haphazardly around him. He narrowly avoided being crushed by one of them thanks to a well-timed shield cover, though as he glanced up amidst the debris, he finally caught his first glimpse of who both him and Bill had been searching for. 

Dipper had been completely displaced by the dream demon’s most recent blast, his own hiding spot completely torn apart, leaving him lying disoriented on the ground, completely out in the open. He quickly regathered his bearings, however, especially as Bill came to hover high before him, bright blue flames licking over both his outstretched hands. 

“Give it up already, Pine Tree!” the demon goaded twistedly, clearly taking pleasure in the torment he was doling out. “We both know that no matter where you run or how hard you try to block me out or fight back, you’ll never be able to really escape me. Put up as many magical barriers, swing around as many swords as you want, none of that matters at the end of the day! All that really matters is that I’m finally gonna give our puppet show the grand finale it’s always deserved!”

Without any sort of sword to defend himself with, the most Dipper could do was seize up in fear, his eyes wide in terror and his entire body visibly shaking with untold fear. Amidst that fear, he was paralyzed, completely incapable of so much as even uttering a single word of opposition or plea for mercy to the demon as he raised his flaming hands to destroy him. Unable to run, unable to hide, unable to fight back, unable to do anything else but helplessly await whatever devastating end Bill had in store for him. 

Until… 

“Dipper!” 

The sudden shout alone was enough to catch Dipper off guard as he tore his terrified gaze away from Bill to see who was rushing to his aid, completely out of nowhere. “S-Steven?!” 

There was no time for Steven to say anything even if he wanted to. Instead, he slid into the open space between Bill and Dipper, summoning a massive shield to protect them both from the demon’s fiery onslaught. Yet even that wasn’t enough to stop it, for as Bill unleashed the full force of his deadly attack, it obliterated the shield on impact‒

Before doing the same to Steven and Dipper themselves. 

Steven bolted upright with a tight, alarmed cry, his blankets tossed aside as Lion abruptly flinched awake alongside him. For a moment, the young Gem was unable to focus on nothing else other than his own sharp, panicked breathing, which steadily began to slow down as he took in the familiar sight of his bedroom loft around him. 

“T-that was just… a dream…?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. With a tired sigh, Steven flopped back down onto his bed, lying still for a moment as he let Lion casually lick the thin layer of sweat off his forehead. Even so, his brow furrowed in confusion as he stared up at the dark ceiling above him, his thoughts swirling in his head as he tried to make sense of what he’d just seen. “Wait…” he mused aloud, partially to Lion, though mostly to himself. “That… didn’t feel like it was my dream… I… I think it might have been… Dipper’s!”

The young Gem gasped, suddenly sitting up once more, much to his pink pet’s aggravation. “That’s right! Mabel did say he was having nightmares about Bill again… But… I… I didn’t think they were…” Steven trailed off, absently covering his hand with his mouth as worry welled up in his eyes. The dream he’d just unintentionally slipped into had been one fueled by raw, pure, visceral fear, fear that Steven had been able to feel just as powerfully as Dipper likely had, fear he had probably been feeling for several nights in a row now. 

“I-I have to do something…” Steven whispered to himself as he lay back down. All the while knowing that nobody, especially not one of his closest friends, should have to contend with such horrific torment night after night. And certainly not from the very dream demon who had already put him through so much strife in the waking world to begin with. “I have to help him…”

“Have a great time on your vacation, Connie!” Mabel chimed as her, Dipper, and Steven video-chattered with her from their spot on the shack’s porch. “Bring back lots of souvenirs and cute, weird Japanese snacks!”

“Yeah, and don’t forget to call us every day to tell us about all the cool stuff you’re seeing,” Steven added with a smile. 

“Well, I would do that, but there’s… a pretty significant time difference over in Tokyo,” Connie chuckled. “I don’t wanna wake you guys up in the middle of the night while I’m just starting my day.”

“Yeah, as much as we’d love to hear from you, please don’t do that,” Dipper replied with an amused grin. 

“I’ll make sure to fill you all in on everything once I get home,” Connie assured. “I just hope this trip won’t be too boring. My mom’s dead set on making it about ‘cultural enrichment’ and historical education. But all I really want to do is find a cute little bookshop/bubble tea cat cafe and spend a whole day reading as many manga as I can get my hands on.”

“Oo, the bubble tea cat part sounds like my idea of a good time!” Mabel quipped excitedly. “By the way, what’s a manga?”

Connie was about to explain, though she was cut off as the airport speaker rang out with a boarding announcement. “Oh! That’s our flight!” she exclaimed, grabbing her carry-on bag as she headed to the gate. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you guys when I get back next week. Try not to get into too much trouble without me, ok?”

“It’s sort of hard to promise something like that around here…” Dipper noted knowingly. 

“But we’ll try,” Steven said, offering her a warm wave. Connie returned that wave with another round of brief, fond farewells for her friends just before she hung up to embark on her Japanese journey. 

“Aw man, Connie’s so lucky!” Mabel let out a wistful sigh as soon as the call was over. “I wish we could go somewhere new and exciting too!”

“Uh, Mabel? Did you forget that Gravity Falls technically is new to you and I?” Dipper inquired with a bit of a wry smirk. “I know it might feel like home sometimes, but we don’t actually live here, you know.”

“Yeah, and something exciting is always happening around here almost every day!” Steven added enthusiastically. “It might not always be a good kind of exciting, but it’s still exciting all the same.”

“Oh, you guys know what I mean!” Mabel huffed. “We should go somewhere that’s super way out there, somewhere nobody’s ever been before! Or at least somewhere no one’s been to before and came back to talk about.”

“Sounds ‘dangerous’,” Dipper chuckled easily. “Have any place like that in mind?”

“Of course I do!” Mabel proclaimed, though her confidence was quick to fall off. “Uh… we can go to… hm…”

Before she could think on the matter any further, however, a gruff, irritated shout rang out from inside the shack. “Mabel! Get in here!” Stan called, clearly annoyed. “Someone--who may or may not be me--left the fridge open and your dumb pig got into the bacon!”

“Waddles, no!” Mabel gasped, horrified as she hopped up to hurry inside. “That’s cannibalism! Think of your adorable pig brethren!”

“Yeesh, you think she would have trained Waddles better with all the time she spends with him,” Dipper remarked, still wearing a light, almost deceptively calm‒at least as far as Steven was concerned‒grin. 

“Heh, yeah…” Steven’s own steady smile finally fell. Even so, he was glad to have a moment or two alone with Dipper, knowing that this would be a much easier discussion to have between just the two of them. “Uh… hey, Dipper? Did… did you sleep ok last night?”

Dipper paused, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Uh… yeah?” he lied, still holding onto a smile, albeit a smaller, more uncertain one now. “Why do you ask?”

“W-well, I just…” Steven hesitated, not really knowing how to proceed, though he still tried to do so as gently as possible all the same. “I heard you were having nightmares about, uh… well, Bill, a-and I was just wondering if you were ok…”

“Ugh, seriously?” Dipper groaned, rolling his eyes. “Does Mabel have to tell everyone about the kind of dreams she thinks I’m having? A-anyway, I… might have had a few Bill-related dreams lately, b-but they’re nothing serious. Definitely not anything worth worrying about, so yeah. I’m fine.”

“...That’s not what I saw last night…” Steven muttered apprehensively as he glanced away. 

“Last night?” Dipper turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “What happened last…” He trailed off, his eyes widening in realization as he happened to recall the finer details of a nightmare he’d just as rather have forgotten entirely. “Wait… t-that nightmare last night… Steven, was… was that really you that showed up in it?”

The young Gem nodded, not really taking stock of the hints of appalled disbelief starting to show up in Dipper’s expression. “I guess I must have used my powers to get into your dreams somehow, b-but that’s ok, because-”

“O-ok?” Dipper interrupted rather harshly. “What makes you think just… breaking into my dreams without my permission is anywhere close to ok? Do you even realize just how much of an invasion of privacy that is?!”

“Oh, w-well, I’m sorry,” Steven frowned, genuinely apologetic. “It wasn’t like I was trying to do it. It just sort of, well, happened. I-I still don’t really know how these new dream powers work, but don’t worry! I’ll figure them out, and once I do, then maybe I can use them to help you fight Bill out of your dreams once and for all!”

Despite this spirited, kindly offer, Dipper flinched, his already agitated expression growing even more intense at this. “No,” he said simply, standing up before walking off toward the nearby woods. 

“What?” Steven also stood, completely baffled as he began trailing after Dipper. “But… why not? Don’t you want Bill to stop showing up in your dreams every night?”

“O-of course I do, Steven, but… it’s not that big of a deal!” Dipper glanced over his shoulder, perturbed. “I don’t need you to use your dream powers, or any of your other powers for that matter, to get rid of him; I can do it on my own.”

A part of the young Gem knew he should have just left it there, taken Dipper’s word for it and moved on. But another, much louder, much more persistent part of him refused to let a friend’s obvious need for assistance and support go unanswered. “B-but… I want to help you!” he implored, grabbing his hand to stop him as he reached the outer edge of the woods. 

Even so, Dipper was quick to pull that hand away. “I don’t want--I don’t need your help,” he said, feigning calm despite the hints of clear frustration lying underneath it. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” Steven protested, following after him as he began to make his way through the woods once more. “You always say that you’re fine, but I don't think you really are, Dipper! I was there in your dream last night, I could see what was happening. I could feel just how scared you were! I’m scared of Bill too after everything he’s done, b-but I know that we’re strong enough to stand up to him as long as we stick together!”

“You don’t know that!” Dipper countered as he ventured into the forest with no real set destination in mind. Because really, all he was trying to do was get away from a conversation that, by all accounts, Steven was refusing to let him escape so easily. “Nobody knows that! The only thing we do know is what Bill’s capable of, and it’s not something you can just stand up to and expect to survive against!”

“But we have before!” Steven argued firmly. “And we can again. We’ve always found a way to stop Bill by working together; so what makes stopping him in your dreams any different?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?!” Dipper shot back, sending another bitter glare over his shoulder. “My problem isn’t with Bill right now, Steven. My problem is with you!”

Steven froze, faltering almost as if those words had physically struck him. Which really, they might as well have from how much they hurt on mere contact alone. “W-what… what do you mean?” he dared to ask, almost afraid of the answer. 

“Well, gee, why don’t we start with how you just burst into my dreams completely uninvited,” Dipper began crossly, still pressing on ahead into the woods. “And then you act like that’s not even a big deal, when it is! I already have enough problems with Bill running around and ruining my dreams each night; the last thing I want is someone else doing it too.”

“B-but this would be different! It wouldn’t be anything like what Bill’s been doing. Like I said, I’d be going into your dreams to help you, if you would just let me!”

“Well, I’m not going to. Why can’t you just accept that already and drop it?”

Steven bristled at this, his own frustration quickly rising, despite his best efforts to remain patient, even if that patience was steadily starting to wear thin. “Why can’t you just accept that you need help?! Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own? You have so many people who are there for you: Mabel, your uncles, the Gems, me! Why don’t you ever just let us help you?!”

“Why won’t you just take no for an answer!?” Dipper retorted bitterly. “You always, always do this. You always act like you know what’s best for everyone, but you don’t, especially not for me!”

“I never said that! I just want to-”

“Want to what?” Dipper interrupted, pausing as he turned to face the young Gem, his expression completely livid. “Fix me like you try to fix everything else?! Face it, Steven, there are some things you just can’t fix!”

For the briefest of moments, Steven hesitated, pain taking a place in his expression alongside anger. Because now, despite his best efforts to set things right, it seemed as though he inadvertently had torn open an all-new rift, one between him and Dipper and their close friendship. A rift he wasn’t sure he’d be so able to easily heal with words alone. “W-well, that doesn’t mean I can’t try,” he persisted stubbornly, foolishly even. That small part of him practically begged him to stop, to call it quits before that rift tore itself open even wider. But for some inane reason, he kept this argument going, knowing the solution Dipper kept refusing was one they both truly needed to fix that rift, and so much more along with it. 

“You should stop trying,” Dipper refuted, his tone icy as he turned away again. “Because every time you try, things always seem to get worse.”

“T-that’s not true. You aren’t-”

“Oh, it isn’t? Then why don’t we talk about Grunkle Stan and how you just up and stole his body like it was nothing!” Dipper accused, finally bringing to light a point of contention he’d somehow managed to remain silent on for weeks now. But now, there was no hiding the dread and discomfort that series of events had initially brought him, not anymore. 

“I-I didn’t steal it!” Steven exclaimed defensively. “It was an accident, I-”

“Yeah, sure another accident,” Dipper scoffed. “You know, Steven, you sure do happen to have a whole lot of powers you don’t know how to control and just keep accidentally using. But even if it was an accident, you still stayed in his body all day anyway just so you and Mabel could go through with another one of your big “get along plans”, which didn’t even work! The whole thing was pointless, just one big waste of time, but who even knows where Stan was during the whole thing! For all we know, he could have been stuck in the mindscape, just like I was when Bill possessed me!”

“D-Dipper…” Steven choked, his eyes wide with realization. He had known from the start that what had happened that day had bothered him, though he had never been able to figure out exactly why, not until now at least. Really, the answer was so clear, so obvious that he should have seen it from the start, he should have known, he should have at least thought twice about going through with that plan, if just for Dipper’s sake alone. But he hadn’t. And in doing so, the young Gem realized, he had already started tearing that rift between them, even weeks before now. “I… I didn’t-”

“You didn’t think,” Dipper scowled, his hands curled up into tight fists at his sides. “You never do! The only things you do actually think about are your plans to try to ‘fix’ people so they’ll be good and nice and perfect like you! So what happens when you decide I’m not good enough and you want to fix me like you tried to fix Stan and Ford? Are you gonna try and take over my body too?!”

“Of course not!” Steven firmly asserted, knowing just how much that would have hurt Dipper after everything Bill had already done. “You know I wouldn’t! Not unless-”

“Not unless you found a good reason to, right?” Dipper countered rigidly. “Well, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to find one, Steven. Seeing as how you just love to use your powers to get people to do what you want. Just like-”

Dipper suddenly cut himself off, his shoulders hitching as he finally stopped in the middle of an open clearing. By now, both boys were pretty far out in the forest, but that was just about the last thing on either of their minds. Steven slowly reached a hand out to skim Dipper’s shoulder, desperately trying to fight back the hot tears that were already welling up in his eyes. “L-like… who?” he asked, his voice soft and shaking all the while. 

Dipper sighed, not really wanting to voice what he was about to say aloud at all. And yet, as angry, as outraged as he was by the young Gem’s sheer audacity and stubbornness, he found that he couldn’t hold it back, no matter how hard he tried. “Like Bill, Steven!” he shouted, slapping his hand away as he spun around to face him. “You’re just like Bill!”

At that exact moment, time seemed to grind to a complete halt for Steven. His pressing tears finally fell through a heavy, choked-up sob, his hand slowly falling to his side as he took an absent step backward. He hardly even looked at Dipper, or anything else at all, as his thoughts reeled wildly out of control from this simple, yet brutal accusation alone, one that came from one of his best and closest friends, of all people. “N-no…” he stammered softly, shaking his head as tears continued to stream down his cheeks. “I… I’m...” he trailed off, unable to even finish the claim that he wasn’t. Because the simple thought that it was somehow true, that he was just as much of a manipulative monster as Bill Cipher was so horrifying, so chilling, and so incredibly fitting that Steven quickly found himself crumbling under the immense, devastating weight of it all. “H-how… how could you-”

“What? You really think it’s that hard of a comparison to make?” Dipper asked harshly, refusing to let Steven’s tears sway him this time. “Think about it; you’ve both got weird dream powers, you can both possess people, heck, you can even float like he can!”

As soon as Steven heard this, his tears stalled completely, his grief turning to something much sharper over the paper-thin similarities Dipper had pointed out. “That--no,” he said shortly, succinctly as the first hints of frustration began to fill in his expression. “That’s not fair, Dipper! Those are just my powers, they aren’t who I am! I would never do any of the things Bill’s done, I would never hurt you like he has! You can trust me, you know you can!”

Dipper hesitated at this earnest appeal, wanting so much to believe it. And yet, just when he was on the verge of accepting it, an all-too-familiar mantra rang through his head, just as clear as it always did: “Trust no one.” 

No one… not even his very best friend. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly, coldly as he turned his back on Steven once more. “But I can’t.”

Steven was unable to hold back another sob at this, one that heaved heavily out of him as he watched Dipper swiftly, silently walk away from him. As he watched the growing rift between them finally tear them apart entirely. “Dipper, w-wait,” Steven reached out in an effort to stop him, desperate to find a way to fix what had just been broken. “I-”

Before he could even get another word out, their entire argument was abruptly brought to a grinding halt as a bright flash of noisy light rippled across the surrounding forest. Both boys were completely caught off guard by it as they shielded themselves against its blinding might, though as it faded away just as quickly as it had appeared. Only to leave something very unsettling behind in its place. 

As Steven and Dipper opened their eyes once more, they both immediately saw it: a small, yet vibrantly glowing orb of multicolored light, hovering above the ground as its shape shifted, ebbing and flowing almost constantly before them. “W-what is that…?” Steven asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the orb, captivated by it. 

“I… don’t know…” Dipper shook his head, eyeing it distrustfully. “It almost looks like… that rift Great Uncle Ford told us about…”

Steven gasped, alarmed as he noticed the striking similarity this orb had to the rift too. A similarity that unnerved him deeply when he remembered exactly who was hoping to get his hands on the original. “What are you doing?” Dipper asked him as he took his first few steps toward it. 

“I’m gonna bubble it,” Steven glanced back over his shoulder as he continued approaching the light. 

“What? No, Steven, don’t touch it!” Dipper warned incredulously. “We have no idea what that thing even is!”

“Well, Mr. Ford and the Gems might. Once I bubble it, we can take it back to them and see what they think.”

“No, we should just leave it alone and get out of here.”

“But it’s ok,” Steven assured as he reached out toward the orb to secure it in a bubble. “I’ve got this.”

Dipper let out a disgruntled scoff as he essentially received yet another reminder of just how often Steven refused to simply listen. “No, you don-”

At that very moment, just as the young Gem’s hands began to surround the orb, it exploded in yet another burst of incredible light. The force of it alone was enough to knock Steven back, sending him crashing into Dipper before they both hit the ground hard. They had no time to recover, however, as they looked back to where the light had been… only to find what could only be described as a portal instead. 

Said portal was sizable, filled in with a strange sort of spacelike expanse that seemed to be changing colors continually. Under different circumstances, it might have been mesmerizing; if it hadn’t gained an immense, almost suction-like gale-force wind to go along with its radiance. Its magnetic force immediately began to pull the nearest thing toward it, which just so happened to be Steven. The young Gem let out a startled cry as he was pulled off its feet, the rushing gale dragging him toward the portal completely against his will. His attempts at grounding himself all failed as he steadily neared the unknown void ahead, and he was only briefly slowed as Dipper latched onto his arm, his feet planted firmly on the ground as he tried to hold him back. Their former fight was all but forgotten in such a frantic, fearful moment, even as they tried to cling onto each other for dear life. An effort that ended up being all for naught as Dipper ended up ultimately losing his footing against the strength of the portal’s pull, just as Steven had before him. 

And from there, it only took a matter of seconds before both boys, completely unable to save themselves and bereft of anyone else who could, were fully forced into the portal just before it closed itself up and disappeared completely. A portal that led to a place that couldn’t be described as anything other than an absolute nightmare. 

The sheer force of passing through the portal had been enough to knock both Steven and Dipper out, though they both happened to begin to reemerge into consciousness at roughly the same time. Things were quite bleary as they awakened, though the first thing either of them noticed was that they almost seemed to be floating adrift in the air. Or rather, as they discovered upon fully opening their eyes, adrift in what appeared to be space itself. 

Dipper took in a sharp, startled gasp as soon as he spotted the endless expanse of stars below, above, and all around him and Steven, an expanse they somehow hung amid without any gravity weighing on either of them to speak of. Likewise, Steven also aptly panicked, quickly glancing around their apparently empty surroundings, which kept on swirling with senseless colors and unknown sound and silence all at the same time. “W-what… where are we?!” Dipper asked, shuddering as his own voice echoed across the dense void all around them. 

“I-I don’t know…” Steven shook his head, turning his attention to Dipper. “Are you ok?”

“...Yeah,” Dipper answered, glaring away from the young Gem to show he was still quite upset with him. “I’d be better if you hadn’t messed with that thing in the woods. Who knows where we are now…”

“W-well, look on the bright side,” Steven ventured a small, hopeful smile. “At least we can both breathe! I-I guess that rules out outer space, huh?”

“Wow, we can breathe,” Dipper rolled his eyes. “The absolute bare-minimum for surviving. What a great upside you found to us being totally trapped in some sort of completely empty void!”

“Well, at least I‒look out!” Steven exclaimed, rushing in closer to Dipper to surround them both in a timely bubble. Mere seconds later a bizarre, horrifying creature, composed of a large, wide, single eyeball held aloft with its wide set of bat wings, crashed squarely into the bubble, followed by several more of the same flock. The monsters clamored against the sturdy surface, trying to break through it to attack the frightened boys inside, though upon finding that it wouldn’t give, they soon moved on to look for some other sort of prey instead. Steven didn’t get a chance to drop his bubble however, for right after the eye-bats had left, something else struck it instead. This time, it was an asteroid, one that shattered upon brutally hitting the bubble, sending it reeling wildly through the starry, unstable expanse. Both boys were knocked into each other several times over as their bubble speed through the void, though they still saw no relief as gravity, or the lack thereof, turned its head on both of them completely. They had apparently got caught up in some sort of strange, unseen current, one that forcefully flipped them upside down, pressing them both against the top of the bubble. Steven tried his best to right them once more, though gravity soon switched its course against them once more, abruptly shoving them to the side several times over. The unpredictable current tossed the bubble about violently, and all the while, Steven and Dipper were helpless to stop it, only staying together amidst it all thanks to the bubble they were both encased in. 

Eventually, finally, the bubble floated to a gradual stop, still completely lost amidst the vast tide of multicolored space surrounding it. Needless to say that Steven and Dipper were equally shaken by such a harrowing experience, to the point that the young Gem hesitated in bringing his protective bubble down just in case anything else beset them out of nowhere. “W-well…” Steven said breathlessly, nervously as he lingered close to Dipper. “Whatever this place is, I guess it’s not as empty as it looks…”

“You have no idea how right you are, kid!”

At the mere sound of this unmistakable voice alone, a spark of fear, so sharp and so intense it might as well have been lighting, struck Dipper and Steven alike. That fear only grew as a harsh, golden light fell upon them, one that only offered all the more telling evidence about exactly who had happened upon them. 

“B-Bill!” Steven gasped, a shield already formed over his arm as he spun around to face the demon. 

Sure enough, Bill hovered large and dominating above them, his single eye practically gleaming with twisted delight as he offered the young Gem a wave of greeting. “That’s the name, don’t wear it out! Lookie what the interdimensional tear in the fabric of reality dragged in! It’s Rosebud and Pine Tree! My two favorite Mystery Twerps, paying me a visit on my own turf! To what do I owe the pleasure of having you boys in my neck of the woods for a change instead of the other way around?”

“W-wait… y-your… what?” Steven asked, his voice trembling even amidst his confusion. 

Bill hardly offered him any answer however as he’d instead set his sights on Dipper, who hadn’t even tried to so much as even glance back at the dream demon. Instead, he’d kept his back turned, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he tried to block out his presence altogether. “I-it’s just a dream, he’s not actually here,” Dipper whispered to himself, his eyes tightly shut to block out the terrified tears starting to well up in them over his usual nighttime tormentor. “It’s a-another nightmare, it always is, he’s not real, he’s not real, he’s NOT-”

“Oh, yeah, sorry to break it ya, but I’m as real as it gets!” In an instant, Bill had scaled himself down, teleporting to appear directly in front of Dipper. On a knee-jerk reaction alone, he let out a tight, frightened cry, flinching back through the open air only for Steven to catch him with a protective, secure grip on his arm. “You know, Pine Tree, ignoring people is rude, especially when you’re the one barged into someone else’s dimension completely unannounced!” 

“L-Leave him alone!” Steven protested, still holding onto Dipper, who by now, had more or less completely shut down. He choked out a small, scared sob, but he said nothing, his hand flinching over his shoulder to grab a sword he didn’t even have on him. No sword, no means of defense, nothing he could do to stop Bill from turning his constant nightmares into a horrible reality. 

“Aw, c’mon, Rosebud, don’t be such a prude,” Bill scoffed, floating a quick circle around the boys. “Besides, seeing as how we’re in my own digs here, I think I’m entitled to do whatever I want. And that includes having a little fun with poor Pine Tree there!”

At this, Steven fully threw himself between Bill and Dipper, upholding his shield as he prepared to fend off any surprise attacks the demon might throw their way. “Wait,” he began, trying to make sense of everything. “So… this place is… your home?”

“You got it, kid! Well, at least it’s home for right now,” Bill quipped, flying high above both of them as he resumed his earlier massive size to take a seat on the levitating gilded throne he’d just conjured up. Behind him, a horde of shadowy, monstrous silhouettes appeared out of nowhere, their crimson eyes all peering curiously down on the terrified pair of humans below them. “Welcome to the Nightmare Realm, boys! Hope you enjoy your stay! Don’t worry, the locals are as friendly as they come! Aren’t we, fellas?”

The crowd of obscured demons surrounding Bill chimed in at this, letting out a rowdy chorus of demented, mallicious laughter that was every bit as sadistic as the dream demon’s own. Yet despite their twisted levity, Bill was quick to put an end to it with a mere dismissive wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah, as much as I know you guys would love to tear these two puny punks to shreds and make an entire gourmet meal out of their innards, I’m afraid I have some… unfinished business to attend to with the kids first,” he remarked to his henchmen, sending the newly disappointed crowd off to whatever part of the Nightmare Realm they’d crawled out of. “That’s right, run along and get a good seat to watch the show from. Because oh boy,” Bill turned his full attention back to Steven and Dipper, his eye burning with his iconic blue fire as he set his sights solely on them. “What a show we’re about to have here…”

Steven took in a hitched, panicked breath at this, briefly casting a glance back at Dipper behind him, only to find that he was more or less hyperventilating, the weight of the grave situation they’d now found themselves in crushing him more and more with each passing second. And even though he was immensely afraid at the moment himself, the young Gem was determined to do his best to try to carry that weight for the both of them where Dipper couldn’t. “L-look,” he addressed Bill as calmly as he possibly could. “We don’t know how we ended up here, but-”

“Oh, you don’t?” Bill interrupted, leaping off his throne as it vanished into thin air. “Really? I thought it was beyond obvious if you take two seconds to think about that pretty little rift ol’ Sixer’s been trying to lock up nice and tight away from me!”

“The rift…” Steven repeated with a small gasp of realization. “S-so, that thing in the forest really did have something to do with it?”

“Sure did!” Bill confirmed. “Looks like Fordsy’s nowhere near as smart as he thinks he is. Ya see, kids, he might have the rift itself contained for now, but it’s still a highly unstable drop of paradoxical, trans-dimensional energy that’s being kept safe only by some dumb, glorified snowglobe. You really think something like that is gonna keep that rift from letting loose some unexpected… side effects as long as it stays in your dimension?”

“S-side effects…?” Dipper dared to speak up, his curiosity getting the better of him, even amidst his own persistent panic. 

“Hey, look who finally got his voice back!” Bill teased callously. “I was starting to think you’d gone mute on me, Pine Tree. Anyway, yessiree! A whole boatload of side effects, but the main one is that it’s wearing down the walls between dimensions, just like Sixer’s portal did back when it was up and running. And the longer that rift chips away at those walls, the more chances you have for random wormholes to pop up all over the place! And you wanna know where all those wormholes just so happen to lead…?”

The boys exchanged an uneasy glance, both of them quite alarmed by what the dream demon was implying through this explanation alone, especially when they considered it was the very means through which they’d found themselves here to begin with. “Uh… h-here?” Steven guessed anxiously. 

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner!” Bill chimed as a noisy mess of game show lights and sound effects blared dramatically behind him. “You’re really using your noggin today, huh, Rosebud? I guess there’s a first for everything! Though I gotta admit, I wasn’t actually expecting one of those mini-portals to actually pull anything through it at all, but can you imagine my surprise when it did! And you kids, of all the meatskins it could have picked out there? Right as I was in the middle of sitting here, watching you two have a grand old time duking it out--which was hilarious by the way? Well, I guess you could say that today is my lucky day!”

Both boys bristled at the demon’s cutting remarks, though even so, they chose to mostly ignore them as Dipper nervously piped up with another horrific thought that had just occurred to him. “W-wait… so… if these portals between h-here and Earth just keep… showing up… why haven’t you just g-gone through any of them?” he asked shakily, trying and failing not to show just how frightened he really was. “T-that is what you want, right? T-to get into our dimension a-and take it over?”

Bill’s usually cheery tune quickly changed at this, his triangular form turning blood red as he glared down at Dipper in particular. “Oh, Pine Tree, you always know just the right questions to ask to PUSH MY BUTTONS!” he shouted, suddenly furious as the Nightmare Realm rumbled all around him. “You really think that I would even hesitate to leap through one of those portals into your dimension if I could? Problem is, I CAN’T! I’m still bound to this STUPID WASTELAND OF A DIMENSION! Or…” Bill seemed to calm somewhat at this, much to the boys’ shared relief.  “At least I am until I get my hands on that rift… You kids wouldn’t wouldn’t happen to know someone who’d be able to help me out with that little problem, would you?”

“No,” Dipper said almost immediately, resolve starting to replace his fear as he sent a steady, stern glare Bill’s way. “You can do whatever you want to us, but we will never ever give you that rift!”

Steven couldn’t help but look over at Dipper with a small smile at this, glad to see his usual bravery making a return, even in the face of undoubtedly his greatest fear. “That’s right!” Steven solidly, boldly agreed. “We made a promise to protect it from you, and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do!”

While both boys expected Bill’s more than infamous temper to flare up over their brazen resistance, he instead reacted in the complete opposite way instead. He laughed. “Oh, you boys are a real RIOT!” he chortled as madly as ever, his crimson pallor returning to its usual garish yellow. “You two really think I’m gonna try and swipe that rift from you?! What, do you think I’m some kind of idiot like Sixer is?! He’s got you kids so brainwashed into hoarding that thing away from me to the point that you’d probably rather die than hand it over to me. Which can be arranged, easily, of course, but still, let’s just say I’ve got… another pawn in mind when it comes to that rift. Besides, why waste time with that when I can make an even better use of this opportunity to get something else I’ve been after instead....?”

Steven took in a sharp, involuntary gasp at this, his eyes wide as he instantly gripped the gemstone on his navel, even if it was currently covered by his shirt. Bill picked up on his obvious alarm almost instantly, yet he simply brushed the young Gem’s palpable fear off with a callous scoff. “Geez, calm down, Rosebud, I wasn’t talking about that rock on your gut,” he remarked, rolling his eye. “The universe doesn’t revolve around you, ya know, even if your last name might have you thinking otherwise. But, relax! I don’t have my sights set on your gem this time around. At least not yet, anyway.”

“Oh…” Steven let out a sigh of relief, though he did notice Dipper tense up beside him in light of this new uncertainty. “W-well, if you don’t need anything from us, t-then maybe you could just… I-I don’t know, let us go ho-”

“No can do, Rosebud!” Bill interrupted succinctly. “I can’t just open up one of those tiny tears in reality myself, as much as I’d love to just so I could slip through it too. Didn’t ya hear the part about how they open up randomly? For all you know, you could be stuck here for what would be days, maybe even weeks in your dimension!”

Needless to say that upon hearing this news, both boys’ hearts practically dropped to their stomachs. The mere thought of being trapped here, in this chaotic, lawless, mess of a dimension with no one but Bill Cipher, of all beings, and his band of malicious, blood-thirsty demons to keep them company was just about the most terrifying, horrific thing for either of them, a thought so unbearable they could scarcely even comprehend it. Yet for as dreadful as it all was, it seemed as though it was all-too-true all the same. 

“Oh, now don’t worry!” Bill quipped, taking twisted pleasure in the boys’ obvious panic over their plight. “I have the perfect plan in mind to keep you kids entertained during your stay here. See, lately I’ve been thinking, doing that whole self-reflection thing you humans try and usually fail miserably at. I’ve made some pretty outstanding deals these past few months, deals that could have landed me with everything I need to take over your dimension in one fell swoop. But every single time I got close, you know who was always there to stop me?”

Neither of the boys had a chance to answer this question, one they already largely knew the answer to. Because in an instant, the dream demon’s eye flooded with golden light, practically becoming a bright spotlight that shined down directly upon them both. “That’s right! You two! Along with any combination of the Crystal Chumps and/or Shooting Star and Sword Swinger, but what’s consistent is that every time one of my plans falls through, you boys are always in the mix somehow. The time I snuck into Stan’s mind, when I took your body for a test drive, Pine Tree-” Dipper seized up with yet another burst of potent fear upon hearing this casual reminder of something that deeply haunted him even still, though even so, Bill hardly seemed to notice as he continued his list. “But the straw that broke the camel’s back was when you two personally split my fusion with Greenie up! Pyrite had enough power and potential to crush those Crystal Chumps to dust, but somebody just had to help someone else run a sword through them, DIDN’T YOU?!” 

Despite the dream demon’s severe tone, Steven spoke up, prompted by all of the wavering courage he really had in the face of such clear fury. “Y-yes, we did,” he professed firmly, evenly. “We stopped you each of those times because you were trying to hurt our friends! Our home! We had to do something to help them!”

Upon hearing this earnest argument, Bill simply narrowed his eye at the young Gem in particular, visibly annoyed by such a resistant claim. “Well, if you care so much about your friends, where are they to help you now?” he asked knowingly, piercingly before his tone picked back up into its usually playfulness once more. “It’s a shame none of them even know you kids are here; they’re really gonna miss out on something special here. See Rosebud, Pine Tree, we’re about to play a little game here. The name of that game is REVENGE.” At this, bright bursts of blue fire ignited over both of the demon’s palms, his single eye sparking with violent, malicious intent as he glared down at both of the defenseless boys before him hatefully. “And this time, the winner takes IT ALL!” 

Without wasting another second on small talk, Bill began his attack, launching both his flames at the boys in full speed. Steven rushed to move his shield in front of both himself and Dipper, expanding it as wide as he possibly could to block the devastating strike. While it succeeded in fending the fire off, the sheer force of the blow was enough to send them both flying back across the vast expanse of the Nightmare Realm. The unexpected flight fortunately seemed to put them out of Bill’s reach, though unfortunately it wasn’t for very long. As the pair finally floated to a gradual, gravity-free stop, the demon suddenly teleported directly behind them, sizing his form up to tower over them as he prepared to grab them both. The most Steven could do to stop him was form another bubble around himself and Dipper, though Bill just as easily swiped the bubble itself up, tossing it up as if it were nothing more than a mere plaything. 

“Ohoho! Way to spice things up, Rosebud!” Bill quipped as he casually juggled the bubble, ignoring the boys’ shared cries of protest as they were roughly tossed about inside it. “Let’s play ball!” At this, the demon threw the bubble up high, forcing some sort of gravity upon it to bring it back down as he pulled a nail-covered bat into existence out of thin air. He used that bat to strike the bubble squarely, sending it soaring across the starry void once more with both Steven and Dipper inside, helpless to even try to stop it. “Iiiiiiits outta here! A home run hit! And the crowd goes wild!” 

Sure enough, Bill’s horde of demonic friends erupted into a hearty round of cheers from wherever unknown corner of the Nightmare Realm they were watching from. While the dream demon eagerly soaked up their praise, he missed the boys’ bubble as it flew far out of his sight, ultimately crashing hard into a stationary asteroid that ended up popping it completely. Without anything to safely contain them, Steven and Dipper hit the asteroid themselves, though thankfully the bubble had cushioned the brunt of what would have otherwise been a brutal blow. Even so, they still they both rolled hard across the large rock, inevitably falling back into the open space behind it, much worse for wear considering the substantial cuts and bruises they had sustained. The only upside amidst this harrowing situation was that there now seemed to be some actual distance between them and Bill, though they were both more than well aware that the dream demon could just as easily bridge that distance to kickstart his barrage of twisted violence all over again. 

“T-that was… a-a lot…” Steven said breathlessly, pressing against the side of the asteroid. He stole a weary glance over at Dipper, only to find a noticeably bleeding cut torn across his face, which itself was engulfed in nothing less than immense, inescapable terror. “Oh!” the young Gem gasped, quickly licking his hand. “Here, let me-”

“Don’t,” Dipper’s expression turned harsh at this as he pushed Steven’s hand and the healing spit covering it away. “There’s no point. W-we’re not… we can’t... “ He trailed off, pulling his knees to his chest in a tight hug as he let out an anguished sob. “T-there’s no way either of us have a chance at surviving here, not for long, n-not against… him.”

“W-what? No,” Steven countered immediately, racing to figure out some way to comfort Dipper, despite how despondent he was himself over their dire straits. “W-we’ll figure something out, I know we can. L-like I said earlier, we’ve stopped Bill before, so-”

“We’ve never stopped him by ourselves!” Dipper cut him off sharply. “We’ve always had Mabel or Connie or the Gems to help us! And what’s more is we’ve never had to fight him here, on his home turf! He has a physical form here! He doesn’t need to possess or fuse with someone anymore! He’s free to do whatever he wants to us and if you think he might go easy on us then you’re wrong!”

“W-well, maybe can outrun him somehow,” Steven ventured anxiously. “Then we can wait for another one of those portals to open up and… Um… Oh, I know! O-once the Gems and your uncles notice we’re gone, maybe they’ll go looking for us and-”

“And what, Steven? You heard what Bill said! Nobody even knows we’re here!” Dipper argued intensely, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “No one is coming to save us… S-so stop doing that thing you always do where you act like everything is going to turn out alright in the end, because it’s not, not this time. Don’t you get it, Steven?” He buried his face in his hands, choking out another mournful, miserable whimper as he admitted the only thing he knew to be absolutely certain now. “W-we… we’re going to die here…”

At this, Dipper more or less completely lost himself to his grief, grief over a present that was about to painfully be cut short, over a future he’d never get to have. Both brought to a violent conclusion by the very demon he’d always feared would end them. Steven nearly victim to that same grief too, especially when he considered just how right Dipper really was. No one knew where they were, no one was going to come to their rescue. The chances of another portal leading back to their own dimension opening up were completely unknown, and the possibility of them even surviving long enough to reach it against a complete and utter sadist like Bill was genuinely low to none. All in all, it really didn’t seem like either of them would survive this ordeal, perhaps the gravest, most immediate danger either of them had ever been thrust into before.

And yet… 

Despite even those impossible, insurmountable odds, Steven refused to give up. At least not yet. 

“Dipper,” he began, his tone slow and purposeful as he came to float directly in front of Dipper. He resisted his attempts at grabbing his hands at first, but eventually folded, allowing the young Gem to see all of the strife and dread that had claimed his expression quite some time ago. “I… I know this seems really bad, but… I still think we have a chance. A-and I think, deep down, you feel the same way too.”

Dipper let out a tight, exhausted sigh, shaking his head hopelessly. “S-steven, I…”

“You can’t give up,” Steven implored, gripping his hands tightly. “We can’t give up. I… I think I have an idea…” He paused for a moment, allowing that idea, however risky it might have been, to solidify inside his mind before proposing it to Dipper. “I know someone who might be able to stand a chance against Bill, e-even if we can’t on our own. The only thing is… I-I need you to trust me…”

Before Dipper even had a chance to consider this offer, Bill’s voice suddenly rang out across the surrounding section of the Nightmare Realm, a clear sign that he was on the hunt for his victims once more. “Oh, Pine Tree! Rosebud!” he called, his tone deceptively bright and friendly. “Come on out! You don’t wanna call it quits already, do you? Not when the game’s only just begun…”

“Dipper, please,” Steven practically begged, pulling his hands out of Dipper’s, though his pleading sights stayed set on him. “I-I know you’re probably still mad at me, a-and I’m sorry, but right now, I need you. I-I… I can’t do this without you! We can’t do this without each other! So please…” This time, it was the young Gem who let out a small, nervous sob, consumed by worry. Though even still, that worry had almost nothing to do with the possibility of Bill finding them at all. “Just… trust me again… Just this once… please…”

For what seemed like ages, Dipper said nothing, making not a single move to respond to either accept or reject the young Gem’s tearful appeal. His mind was racing with far too many thoughts at once, his upheaved emotions tossing him in a wild sea of shock, fear, anger, and grief. But amidst that sea, amidst the tide of chaos that threatened to swallow him up completely, was Steven. Steven, who had thoughtlessly invaded his dreams just like Bill himself had done so many times before. Steven, who so very often thought only of himself under the guise of trying to help others. Steven, who had inadvertently been the reason why they’d ended up in this potentially fatal disaster in the first place. 

Steven… who was always there to offer him a comforting smile and a kind word when he needed it most. Steven, who was always more than ready to throw himself in the line of fire if it meant protecting his friends, including him, even after he’d screamed and yelled and practically torn their friendship apart. Steven, who was asking for something as simple as his trust, who was extending out a hand to him in the hopes that he’d take it, so that they could at least try to survive, try to get through this together. 

And, in spite of everything else going on around him and inside him, that was a hand Dipper slowly but surely found himself taking. 

“Alright, kids, hide-and-seek time is over!” Bill shouted, growing impatient as he continued combing through the surrounding asteroid field. “I mean it, Rosebud, Pine Tree, you two twerps better get out here where I can pummel you into oblivion NOW or else I’m gonna-” The dream demon was succinctly cut off as a sudden, lightning-fast projectile sped at him from behind, slicing through one of his arms to the point that it managed to cut it off completely, catching him off guard in the process. “WHAT?!” 

Bill’s eye drifted to his backside, the rest of his features following suit so he could properly see where this sudden attack had come from. Only to be met with a sight, or rather, a fusion, that even he hadn’t been expecting. 

“You called?” Stepper grinned, looking up at the dream demon with a new sense of determination. He stood tall and unflinching atop the asteroid his halves had just been hiding behind, his shield journal already formed over his lower palms with a new shield summoned over it, ready to fly just as the first one had. And all the while, he couldn’t help but take some level in pride in just how genuinely surprised Bill seemed to be by his timely attack, his hope starting to rise as he realized that, with the respective strengths of his halves combined, he might just have a chance after all. 

Bill, however, didn’t see things quite the same way. His bafflement only seemed to last for a moment as he quickly recovered from the fusion’s attack, regenerating his arm easily and immediately. And as he did, all sense of shock seemed to disappear as he let out a loud, mocking laugh instead. “Oh, now this? THIS is a REAL riot right here!” he cackled almost madly, much to Stepper’s confusion. “And I thought Rose Star was hilarious, but you, Pine Bud? You take RIDICULOUS to a whole new level!”

Stepper let out a harsh scoff at this, his own confidence getting the better of him as he fired off just as punchy of a comeback to the dream demon himself. “I-I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous,” he began, trying his best to recover from how his voice had briefly cracked in fear at the start. “Using a nail bat to knock a to kids across an entire dimension. Seriously, did the bat even need to have nails in it? That was just overkill if you ask me.”

Bill’s amusement quickly shifted into a sharpened glare at this. “Oh, what, do you think you’re some kind of comedian now, Rose Tree? You really are funny if you think fusing is gonna save you now. You know, I’m surprised you two were even able to fuse at all what with you being at each others’ throats and all. Guess it goes to show just how far you boys are willing to go when you’re really desperate.”

Stepper’s bravado quickly shifted in annoyance at this reminder, a reminder of the still palpable tension still lingering between both of his halves, even if he had chosen to ignore that tension for now to maintain his fusion. “Shut up,” he hissed, waiting no time in launching his next shield at the demon. This one had the addition of spikes barbing its edges, and though Stepper had aimed it directly for Bill’s eye, the demon managed to teleport out of its path just before it could hit him. Instead, he retaliated, reappearing just behind the fusion and firing off a powerful laser blast from his eye to obliterate the asteroid Stepper was standing on upon impact. Fortunately, he’d managed to jump off it back into the gravity-free air, taking advantage of the momentum he gained to send several smaller shield-projectiles Bill’s way. The demon was able to deflect most of these easily, though Stepper managed to manipulate a few of them to change their course so they’d crash into Bill from behind, each of them exploding upon impact. 

“Ow!” Bill shouted, quite perturbed by the surprisingly potent attack. “Rose Tree!”

“What’s the matter, Bill?” Stepper taunted, perhaps a bit too brazenly, as he took up a perch on another nearby asteroid. “Aren’t used to someone who can actually keep up with your ‘game’?”

“Ha! You WISH you could keep up with me, Pine Bud!” Bill shouted manically, scorching blue flames bursting from both his hands. As he launched them at the fusion, Stepper deflected them with a large, well-cast shield from his journal, one that not only seemed to dispel the fire but deflect it as well. All four of his arms were put to work upholding it, his gem, birthmark, and journal alike bursting with powerful light as he shoved that shield hard back at Bill. As drenched in his own flames as the shield already was, the demon was unprepared for the full force of it striking him as heavily as it did, and his genuinely pained, outraged shout echoed across the Nightmare Realm as he was swiftly thrown back through it. 

In light of such a momentous, successful blow, Stepper himself was quite stunned, looking to his shield journal with apt amazement. He had always known, from the very first time he’d been formed, that it was a strange, unique, special weapon, one that contained powers that even he didn’t hold all of the answers to yet. It had served him well before in taking down Peridot’s unwanted robinoids months ago, but now, was there indeed a chance, however small, that it might just be enough to help him take on Bill Cipher himself? 

“W-we could do this…” Stepper said to himself, his halves conversing with a sense of rising hope and excitement. “We could win this! Maybe… maybe we could even do more than just win; maybe we could even stop Bill for good! After all,” he grinned as he looked afar off in the distance to where Bill was still being forced back thanks to his own shield’s strength. “He’s not invincible here. Y-you really think we could beat him? If we stay together like this? I think so.” He laughed in spite of himself, his upper arms wrapping around themselves in a steadying, affectionate, assuring hug, both of his halves in perfect harmony when it came to this daring endeavor. “O-ok. Then let’s do it. And while we’re at it,” he paused, allowing his shield journal to float before him, placing his lower hands under it as its pages flipped rapidly on their own accord. “Let’s see what this thing can really do.”

By now, Bill had recovered from Stepper’s last attack, rushing across the wide span of the Nightmare Realm in a matter of mere seconds to strike back. “You know, Rose Tree, you’re really starting to GET ON MY NERVES!” he yelled, his form flashing bright red as he appeared massive and intimidating before the fusion. “I think it's high time someone TORE YOU TWO APART!” 

In an instant, the dream demon lashed out, hoping to grab ahold on the fusion to do exactly that, literally. Still, Stepper was ready for him, for right as Bill’s hands reached for him, he called upon another bubble. This one, however, was quite a bit different, for as soon as the dream demon so much as touched it, he retracted his hands with a startled yelp of pain. 

“Whoa…” Stepper gasped, looking over the newfound spikes he’d somehow formed on the outer surface of his bubble. “Cool! Oo! I can think of something even cooler.” At this, the fusion flipped through the earlier pages of his journal, landing on one depicting a familiar sword that had recently been lost to the depths of the lake. But with just a bit of magic, it had the chance to be reclaimed in some way, and for Stepper, that was far better than nothing. 

“You must think you have a whole bunch of nifty tricks up all four of your sleeves, dontcha, Rose Tree?” Bill asked, clearly annoyed at this point as his eye flashed a violent red. “Well SO DO I!”

Stepper finished pulling a conjured, pinkened version of the Sword of Seasons out of the shield journal just in time to use it to slice through the first of several heavy waves of successive, destructive energy Bill sent his way. As one set of his arms continued deflecting these attacks, his other arms took up a shield, which he positioned protectively in front of himself to stem the onslaught completely. From there, Stepper kept his pace rapid, tossing the shield at Bill full force and landing a successful strike to his eye this time. While the dream demon was distracted with recovering from such a painful blow, Stepper rushed forward, leaping off his asteroid perch with his sword raised high, though just before he could bring it down on Bill, the demon disappeared out of his reach once more. Bill reappeared somewhere behind him, absolutely livid, though Stepper still didn’t back down. Instead, he formed another shield under his feet, using it as a launch pad to jump off to do so he could propel himself in Bill’s direction, swinging his sword out broadly as he did. The dream demon attempted to fend him off with a rapid fire series of flame bursts, but a large and sturdy shield was more than enough to protect the fusion from them. And for quite awhile, that was how the battle flowed; Bill and Stepper, both doling out strong, heavy attacks aimed for each other, none of which really did much damage thanks to the steady line of defense and stamina both had on their sides. 

Stepper did manage to briefly break that flow, however, by swiftly working to put some tactical distance between himself and Bill so he could have time to plan his next move. He distracted the dream demon with another series of small seeker shields before he leapt onto the nearest asteroid, looking through his shield journal for anything else that might be useful. “Come on, we’ve got him on the ropes,” he muttered both to himself and the magical tome floating in front of him. “Give me something really good this time.” As if it was answering the fusion’s request, the journal flashed with vibrant light once more before its flipping pages landed on two in particular, one within each different half of the journal as the pages between them stood up perfectly straight. And printed upon those two pages was a plan that Stepper could and readily did hope was more than enough to finally put this arduous fight to an end once and for all. “Perfect!” he grinned, determined to give that plan a try. Or rather, to give his component halves a try. 

“You know, Pine Bud,” Bill’s entire form was as he began to approach the fusion hotly. “I’m getting REAL sick of you and that stupid book of yours! You’re almost more of a pain while you’re fused than you two are on your own!”

“Oh, really?” Stepper asked, smirking as he let his journal drop low toward his feet. “I don’t know if I’d be too sure of that if I were you…”With a simple flourish of his upper hands, the fusion conjured up his next method of attack from the two open pages of the shield journal. And from those pages, solid, yet still clearly holographic life-sized doubles of both Steven and Dipper appeared, pigmented pink and blue respectively as they stood, already armed with a shield and a sword from the start. Through the journal, Stepper was in full command of these copies of his halves as he pointed them at their target, and without skipping a beat, both doubles lunged for the dream demon, ready to attack. While Bill worked in taking down the first set, Stepper worked on creating several more in quick succession, sending each of them the demon’s way as he amassed an army essentially composed of himself. The copies, while not the most sturdy, were plentiful as they attacked Bill essentially in a haphazard swarm, beating their swords and shields away at him even as the demon retaliated by destroying as many of them as quickly as he could. Still, Stepper kept them coming, his hopes steadily rising as he watched his duplicates begin to overwhelm Bill while he waited for just the opening he needed to finally win this deadly brawl.

And yet, despite those hopes, it was an opening that never came. 

“ENOUGH!” Bill suddenly shouted, unleashing a powerful wave of energy to dissipate all of the boys’ clones. The blast also knocked Stepper back hard, preventing him from conjuring up anymore as the shield journal fell away from him before disappearing completely. “You sure have shown off that you’ve got some pretty sharp thorns to ya, Rose Tree,” Bill continued angrily, his hands glowing with an entirely new type of dangerous power. “Well, why don’t I take the time to show you MINE? Fair warning: they’re at least a MILLION TIMES SHARPER THAN YOURS!” 

Stepper gasped, quickly righting himself to float upright, though he didn’t get much of a chance to summon his shield journal again before something sharp latched onto one of his lower arms. The same thing happened to his other arms in short order, and from there it didn’t take Stepper long to see what it was: long, thick black vines, covered in tiny, yet razor-sharp thorns that had already begun to cut deep into his skin. Despite his efforts to pull himself out of them, their grip only grew tighter, worsening as even more vines began latching onto his legs, snaking their way up his torso, his chest, over his neck, even all the way up to his face until he was essentially covered with them. Then, to make matters worse, the vines themselves began to pull against him, stretching all four of his arms and his legs out wide to the point that he felt as though his limbs were going to be ripped clean out of their sockets. And yet, despite his involuntary cry of agony the sting of the thorns in particular managed to draw out of him, Bill simply let out a smug, triumphant, amused laugh at the fusion’s clear misery. 

“Ah, now THAT’S more like it!” he remarked blithely, even as Stepper voiced another protesting, pained shout. “You know, I really gotta hand it to ya, Rose Tree, you’re putting up way more of a fight than I ever would have imagined out of a soft, baby-faced fusion like you. Too bad that fight ends right here. Playtime is over, boys! Which means now, the fun can REALLY begin…”

Despite this alarming threat, Stepper noticed that the vine latched onto one of his upper arms was finally starting to loosen. He wasted no time in pulling free from it, calling upon a small shield that he swiftly used to cut through the rest of them, pulling them off his body and just as quickly licking one of his hands to heal as many of the wounds they’d left him with as he could. He wasn’t able to take care of too many of them, however, before Bill caught him off guard with a heavy burst of flame. Stepper barely had time to react by throwing up a last-minute shield, though even still, that did little to stop the attack from shoving him back as he took most of the brutal brunt of the blow. This time, however, he didn’t simply continue reeling back through open space; instead he landed hard against something solid, a sideways surface that seemed to possess its own gravity as he landed upon it. 

“W-what…?” Stepper breathed, slowly starting to pick himself up off the new ground, only to be completely baffled by what surrounded him. He found himself on a massive, twisted structure, a mess of colors and shapes and stairs and floors and pillars, each of which was turned and twisted in a completely different direction. As bewildered as he was by this incomprehensible new setting, he didn’t get a chance to try to make sense of it before Bill suddenly appeared before him once more, scaled down dramatically to the point that he was now even smaller than the fusion himself. 

“Welcome to the Quadrangle of Qonfusion, boys! My favorite hangout in the entire Nightmare Realm! I’d give you the grand tour, but you won’t really be needing one since its  is about to become your GRAVE!”

Stepper took a wide step back away from the demon at this, all four of his hands clenched into tight, anxious fists as he tried to maintain his previously calm composure. “G-grave?” he repeated, doing his best to inject an air of cockiness into his tone. “B-but I thought you’d want me alive. I do still have Steven’s‒my gem after all.”

“Ohh don’t you worry about that, Pine Bud!” Bill retorted easily as he resumed his larger size once more. “I’ll make sure to pry that gem outta Rosebud’s cold, dead corpse before I toss that and Pine Tree’s into the endless empty abyss that acts as this dimension’s garbage dump! All I gotta do is rip you to pieces first and everything else will fall perfectly into place!”

At this, the dream demon conjured up his cane out of thin air and took a broad swing right at the fusion as blue flames ignited over the entire length of it. Stepper thankfully hat the wits about him to leap out of its path, deciding his best option was to retreat for now, if only for the sake of gaining a moment to reclaim his own weapon once more. So he rushed into the nearest hallway, getting himself out of Bill’s immediate range as he looked for some sort of refuge. As he ran, he let his gem do the work in bringing forth his shield journal once more, though it nearly fell out of his grasp entirely as gravity suddenly shifted sharply on him. Stepper let out a startled cry as he fell upward onto a set of upside down stairs, forced to reorient himself entirely as his lower set of arms clung onto his journal for dear life. The only positive seemed to be that Bill apparently hadn’t noticed as he glided through the hallway the fusion had just been in, still gripping his flaming cane as he casually called out to the prey he was hunting. 

“You know, it’s pretty sad, Pine Bud,” Bill remarked with no sympathy in his tone whatsoever. “Even if everyone back in your dimension knew where you were and what was happening to you, chances are they wouldn’t even care. I mean, it’s not like anybody even wants either of you around to begin with, right?”

Stepper made sure not to respond to this, knowing that this was likely just a dirty, underhanded tactic to get him to reveal himself. And yet, his silence was soon broken as he heard a new voice entirely ring out not too far away from him.

“Dipper? Steven?’

The fusion gasped, immediately rising to his feet to look to the silhouette standing within the darkness of the doorway in front of him. “N-no…” he stammered, eyes wide with disbelief as he took a small step closer. “I-it can’t be. You’re not supposed to be here!”

“...Neither are you.”

Stepper faltered as the obscured figure finally became clear, tears welling up in his eyes as he reached out toward her. “M-Mabel…”

“Why?” Mabel cut him off, her tone and expression alike uncharacteristically harsh and cold. “Why do you guys keep leaving me behind?”

“...W-what?” Stepper asked, genuinely confused amidst his grief. 

“Every single time you guys fuse, I’m always the one who gets left out!” Mabel accused bitterly. “And even when you’re not fused, you’re always off doing more important things with me, like you think I can’t handle them! Like I’m too stupid and silly to be a part of things! Like I said,” Tears were welling up in her eyes by this point, tears that the fusion mirrored as he stared at her in disbelief. “You’re always leaving me behind, Dipper…”

“N-no…” the fusion shook his head, distraught. “Mabel, of course I don’t think that, I don’t-“

“You always leave me out too, you know.” Stepper flinched, recognizing this new voice instantly. A palpable burst of dread coursed through him as he watched Connie step out of the same doorway Mabel had come from as she came to stand alongside her.  “What, am I not a part of the team too? Do I just not matter to either of you!?”

Stepper paused, dumbstruck as he desperately tried to search for the words to counteract these cruel claims. “Connie, I-”

“Even when we are a part of your disasters, things always go wrong.” As if out of nowhere, Pacifica suddenly stepped in to join Mabel and Connie’s rigid round of allegations. “You always put everyone in danger with your stupid mysteries-”

“And all of that dumb Gem stuff,” Connie added, her toine just as icy. “Maybe we’d all just be better off if you never came back at all. 

“Maybe…” Mabel began, seeming to hesitate for a moment before delivering her remorseless verdict. “Maybe it would just be better if you both left us all behind for good.”

“N-no,” Stepper countered tearfully, taking another small step toward the trio. Toward the people his halves cared so much about even if they weren’t currently giving that care back in return. “I would never, I-I don’t… I’m not going to leave any of you behind, ever. I promise!”

All three of the girls were silent at this, their expressions darkening as they began to turn away from the fusion entirely. Pacifica and Connie soon returned back into the empty doorway they had come out of, but Mabel still lingered behind for one final spiteful statement. “...You already have.”

A small, yet poignant sob escaped Stepper at this, and as Mabel disappeared into the same darkness Connie and Pacifica had, he didn’t hesitate to chase after all three of them. “W-wait!” he called, desperate to reach them, desperate to see if what they’d said to him was actually the truth. And desperately hoping all the while, that it wasn’t.

He passed through the doorway, into a dark, relatively short hallway where gravity turned on him once more, essentially forcing him to walk along the wall until he emerged on the other side of it. What met him was a narrow straight-away, though much to his alarm, none of the girls were anywhere in sight. He panicked, ready to call out for them to find them, to make sure they were alright and unharmed in this dangerous, practically deadly place. Yet before he could, another familiar voice happened to sound out from somewhere behind him. 

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Startled, Stepper turned to see none other than Stan, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway the fusion had just come out of. 

“G-Grunkle Pines?” Stepper asked, confused and anxious, especially at just how calm yet callous the conman seemed to be. “W-what are you doing h-”

“You know,” Stan cut him off, his tone and expression both dry as he began to approach the fusion. “This whole wacko world is pretty twisted. But I’d say it’s the perfect place for two freakshow kids fused into an even bigger, four-armed freakshow, wouldn’t you?”

Stepper shuddered, inching back nervously as the conman continued to approach him almost threateningly. “W-wh… why would you say that…?” 

“Cause it’s obvious, kid,” Stan sneered haughtily as he came to stop directly in front of the fusion. “In fact, since you seem to fit right in, why don’t you just stay here?”

Before Stepper even had a chance to react, Stan suddenly reached out and shoved him clean over the edge of the walkway they were both on. The fusion was unable to keep himself from falling over side of it, though as he lost his footing, gravity pulled him in yet another direction, this time hard to his left. He plummeted for what seemed like ages before landing hard against a wide, level floor, one lined with towering pillars on either side of it. However, he just so happened to land exactly on one of his lower arms, which took the brunt of the blow with a spark of excruciating pain accompanied by an audible snap. Stepper was unable to hold back an agonized scream as he cradled his clearly broken arm, though even amidst the tears still brimming in his eyes he did his best to reach the damaged limb up to his mouth. The moment he so much as gently kissed it, instant relief overwhelmed his senses, the brutal break completely repaired by the healing magic he thankfully still had, even while fused, as though the injury had never even happened at all. 

“You can’t just magically heal everything and make it all better.” 

“Even when you’re together, you’re nowhere near strong enough to save anyone.”

“Not even yourselves.”

Stepper already knew the Gems were coming before they even stepped into his field of vision based on these judgemental, cruel remarks alone. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl alike all looked down at him as he remained on his spot on the ground, already dreading what else they’d have to say to him after everything he’d heard thus far. 

“Why don’t you just give up already, man?” Amethyst began, rolling her eyes at him. “You really think you’re gonna last long here? Quit kidding yourselves.”

“Maybe if you were half the Gem Rose was, you might have had a chance,” Pearl remarked with an ire-filled scowl. “To think that she gave everything up for you, Steven, and then you go and fuse with a simple human just to make yourself even weaker? Disgusting.”

“You’re not a stable fusion,” Garnet added, her tone hollow and cold. “And even if you were, it wouldn’t matter. That’s not enough to save you and it’s not enough to make us, or anyone else, want you. We never did to begin with.”

Stepper jolted at this, his breathing shuddering as he slowly pulled himself to stand. Something wasn’t right here, he knew that much, yet for as strange as these encounters all seemed, his emotions were still managing to work against him all the same. “N-no, that’s not true,” he asserted as firmly as he possibly could, counteracting his fears and grief with memories of just how much the Gems, how much Stan, how much Pacifica, Connie, and Mabel all really cared for him. For both of them. “I… I know it’s not. You said-”

“They were lying.” Stepper froze as the Gems parted ways for Ford to approach, the goldenish gleam reflecting from his glasses obscuring his eyes as he stared at the fusion piercingly. “Everyone does around you, just to keep you two from wasting our time by falling apart. Such fragile, futile things you boys are. It was foolish of me to think I could think I could trust either of you with anything, much less something as important as the rift. Tell me, boys. How do you expect to protect it when you can’t even protect yourselves?”

Stepper shook his head, wanting to argue, wanting to protest these malicious claims, but the words just wouldn’t come. The author and the Gems all continued to glare at him expectantly, saying nothing more though the disdain on each of their faces was perfectly clear. And under the crushing weight of that disdain, Stepper found himself hard-pressed to even try to bear it. 

So he turned, hoping to run, hoping to escape from his own doubts, his own fears, his own shortcomings and faults, as mounting and plentiful as they all were. Yet before he could take so much as a single step, he was stopped by yet another familiar figure, about the very last person, or Gem rather, he could have ever expected to see. 

“Oh, Steven…” Rose Quartz said, her voice every bit the same as he remembered it being from her tape. Yet instead of the gentle kindness and love that had filled it there, the only things emanating from her tone now was bitterness and scorn. “What a disappointment you turned out to be. I had hoped you would have followed in my footsteps to protect the Earth in my absence. But in the end, it looks like your little friend was right.” A sinister, twisted grin filled the pink Gem’s features, especially as Stepper essentially cowered before her in tears and terror. “You really are just… like… ME!”

Suddenly, “Rose’s” eyes flashed yellow, her pupils thin, perfect slits to match Bill’s telltale demented laughter coming out of her mouth. In a sudden flash of blinding light, the pink Gem was gone as the dream demon resumed his usual form, his sadistic masquerade coming to an end as he took a wicked sense of delight in just how shaken the fusion was by it all. 

“N-no,” Stepper breathed tightly, all four of his hands curled into tight, shaking fists. “No! T-that’s not… W-what I said, I-I didn’t mean that!”

“That’s not what I overheard, Pine Bud,” Bill corrected, playing out the offending scene on his flat form. And sure enough, there was Dipper, his tone livid and dead-serious as he shouted at Steven relentlessly. “Like Bill, Steven! You’re just like Bill!”

Stepper wavered at this, half of him practically drowning in guilt over words he desperately wished he could take back. Words he wished with every fiber of his being that he’d never even foolishly, thoughtlessly said in the first place. His gemstone and his birthmark suddenly flashed, conveying that remorse between both of his halves, though it did little to stem the rising tide of anger he could feel against his own regretful grief. “I-I’m sorry!” he begged himself, his upper arms embracing himself tightly as his lower hand remained curled into unyielding fists. “Please, I need you to understand! I was just mad! I-I wasn’t thinking! I just-”

“Sounds to me like Pine Tree is just trying to save his own skin, as usual,” Bill interrupted, casually floating around the distracted, distraught fusion. “You know, Rosebud, he did say he didn’t want your help to begin with, so why even bother? With friends as crummy and ungrateful as he is, you might as well not even have any! In fact, maybe you should just cut him loose completely. You’d sure save yourself a lot of time and effort in trying to fix what’s way past broken if you did!”

By now, Stepper was all but consumed by panic, tears streaking heavily down his face as he continued his painful plea to his other half, who had gone all but silent amidst all this. “I… I’m so, so sorry…” he repeated once more, half of him hating himself for the momentous mistake he’d made. “I said so many horrible things to you, I… m-maybe you should just break things off with me…” He sobbed, softly, sadly as he hung his head in shame as the faintest of white, unfusing lights began to enshroud him. “It’s what I deserve at this point…” 

“No, you don’t.” 

The fusion gasped as he suddenly read his own thoughts, his gem and birthmark both aglow as his other half finally said something to him. He led the way as well as he began wiping his tears, steadying both of them as he guided their shared form to stand once more. “I don’t want to break away from you,” he said aloud, his tone earnest and kind. “Our friendship means so much to me. You mean so much to me! And besides,” He turned his attention to Bill, who was clearly caught off guard by Stepper’s sudden change of demeanor, especially as the fusion stared him down brazenly. “I never leave my friends behind. When someone is in trouble, I help them, no matter what they’ve said or done. And that’s how I know-” His shield journal appeared above his lower arms at this, its pages blazing with bright, powerful light as he readied himself to get right back into the fray. “I am NOTHING like you!” 

Stepper didn’t even give Bill a chance to get a single word in edgewise out as he launched a series of fast-paced shields at the dream demon, several of which landed in full-force. The fusion didn’t hold anything back as he kept his attacks coming, hoping to somehow overwhelm Bill before he could pull any more twisted tricks on him. Sure enough, it seemed as though he might soon get a chance to do just that as he ended up forcing Bill over the edge of the platform they were both on completely. The dream demon crashed down into another one of the Quadrangle’s countless staircases while Stepper remained high above him, his journal hovering above his palm as he stood tall and firm and ready to fight together.

“Try whatever you want,” he said, his tone bold and unflinching as he met the bitter glare Bill was sending his way evenly. This time, it was easy to find the bravery to do so, bravery that had been easily found amidst the unshakable bond that he had been formed through, a bond that refused to be broken so easily. “But you can’t tear us apart!”

Despite the fusion’s brazen verve and steady determination, Bill wasn’t about to back down that quickly either. “Oh, you boys wanna BET?!” he practically screamed as he flew back up to Stepper’s level. He still towered over the fusion in size, but Stepper kept his wits about him as he called upon yet another series of shields to throw at a moment’s notice. “If you twerps won’t come undone the easy way, then I guess we’ll just have to do this THE HARD WAY!”

At this, Stepper let one of his shields fly, though Bill was quick to knock it away. However, as the fusion was distracted by prepping his next move, he failed to notice the dream demon implement one of his earlier tactics until it was too late. Instead, Stepper suddenly found himself yanked back hard as thick, thorny vines secured themselves around each of his wrists once more. They didn’t entangle him this time, though they did secure themselves around each of his limbs as they began to pull him back toward the center of the platform he was on. Stepper did his best to resist their heavy hold, though they refused to give, even as they eventually ended up dragging him down and restraining him against the ground. Even still, the fusion pulled against them as the vines essentially locked his back against the floor, more appearing in turn to further tie him down as Bill appeared floating high above him. 

“You just couldn’t make this simple for me, could ya, Rose Tree?” the dream demon asked, twirling his cane as he looked down at the fusion with disdain. “All I wanted was a nice, hearty helping of revenge, but you had to go and be stubborn. Why is that not surprising? Neither Pine Tree or Rosebud know when to quit. So why should I expect anything different out of their fusion?”

“T-that’s right,” Stepper retorted assertively, despite the rather vulnerable position he now found himself in. “We don’t know when to quit. And we won’t quit, not until we’ve found a way to stop you from hurting the people we care about once and for all!”

Bill instantly let loose a haughty laugh at this, his tone clearly mocking as he leaned against his cane and looked down at Stepper incredulously. “Stop me? YOU actually thought you could stop ME?! Give me a break, kid! Without all your fancy powers keeping you going, you would have been dead from the start! In fact…” Bill paused, repositioning his cane in a way the fusion didn’t quite understand, at least at first. “Why don’t we just nip that problem in the Pine Bud, if you catch my drift…?” Stepper didn’t answer, his eyes widening with sudden alarm as he realized the demon’s cane, awash in bright blue fire, was now hovering directly over him. 

Or rather, directly over his exposed gem.

“It’s a shame I gotta do this to ya, Rose Tree, really, it is!” Bill remarked easily, nonchalantly even, despite the horrific act he was about to commit. “Especially since I promised one of my favorite clients I’d hand that rock on your gut over to them in pristine, perfect, pretty condition. But, I’m sure they’ll understand if there’s a little collateral damage. After all, you know what they say: every deal has a loophole…” 

Stepper only had time to let out the smallest of horrified gasps before it happened. And when it did, it was so quick yet agonizingly slow, all at the same time. Because in an instant, Bill’s cane came down, its tip sharpened to a deadly point as it rushed right for the fusion’s gemstone. 

And, it struck it squarely, with a piercing, sickening crack. 

Shock. That was first, his mouth open, poised for a scream that never came. His back lurched upward involuntarily, the gem on his stomach pierced completely. Fortunately, the cane didn’t dig any deeper than its surface, but that was all it needed to do. For as it retracted away from him and left his gem behind, everything instantly got so much worse. 

Pain. That was what came next, so immense and so incredible that it was a wonder he didn’t fall apart completely from it. It washed over him in waves, each more horrific than the last. It blinded him, deafened him, chased away every thought, ever feeling, everything until there was nothing left at all but pain, pain, pain, pain. 

Cracks. They soon followed, spreading out across his skin in jagged, uneven, unruly pink lines. They glowed brightly against him, casting an inhuman, incomprehensible pallor upon his otherwise largely human appearance. Yet all the while, they soundly mimicked the very same sizable crack that had been so viciously torn across his gemstone, which itself was flashing in bright, erratic alarm. 

He didn’t dare try to move, his body in far too much anguish to even make the attempt if he wanted to. His thoughts were every bit as much of a mess as his body was, disjointed and jumbled and nonsensical as they clashed against each other violently. He lay in a haze, not even noticing as the vines finally pulled themselves away to free up his languished limbs. In fact, he didn’t even react at all as Bill teleported to hover, much smaller now, directly in front of his face. 

“Knock, knock! Earth to Rose Tree!” the demon quipped as cheerfully as ever, knocking a hand against the fusion’s already pounding head. “You still in there? You can’t die on me yet, that would ruin all the fun!”

Stepper didn’t answer, largely since he was completely incapable of doing so. Instead, he lay still, his breathing hoarse and shallow as tears began welling up in his eyes, which themselves were struggling to stay open at all as a bitter chill overtook his immobile body. His thoughts continued beating into each other, overlapping as they burst to life and burnt out almost simultaneously. None of them made any sort of sense, though a few did stand out against the empty void of madness he could feel himself slowly slipping into. 

Hurts. Heal. Have to heal. 

He let out a shuddering breath, prompted into motion by this thought, by the promise that this pain would and could come to an end in just a mere matter of seconds. Bill fortunately slipped out of his frame of vision, strangely allowing him to attempt to sit up. The effort alone was agonizing, his arms shaking violently and his head lolling down despite his best attempts at keeping it up. A small, sharp cough escaped him as he fully sat up, his body wracked by it as his lower hands curled themselves around his damaged gemstone in the hopes of shielding it from any further harm. One of his upper hands slowly drifted to his mouth, and he sloppily spit on it, though the bright red blood that came out along with it wasn’t lost on him. Still, he ignored it to move that hand down to his gemstone, lightly skimming it with his fingertips to let the supposedly healing liquid settle over it. And then, he waited. And waited. 

And waited. 

“W-what…?” he finally spoke, his voice soft and broken to the point that it sounded less like his own and more of that of his two halves. “Why… isn’t it…”

“Oh, did ya not know, Pine Bud?” Bill chimed in somewhere behind him. “Whenever a Gem gets all cracked up like yourself, their powers tend to go on the fritz. Looks like I was right before. Your healing spit really can’t fix everything…”

For what seemed like ages, the most Stepper could do was stare down at his gemstone and the wide, gaping rift torn across its surface in disbelief and despair. His breathing harshened, his body tensed, and as panic overtook him, he found himself unable to keep himself from falling into another hacking fit once more. He coughed into his hand this time, and when he finally was able to stop and pull it away, he wasn’t very surprised to find it covered in his own warm blood.

“Ohohoh, now isn’t this interesting!?” Bill remarked, apparently intrigued as he scaled his size down enough so he could take a casual seat atop the fusion’s hat. “I’ve seen plenty of space rocks get cracked in my time, but I’ve never seen it happen to one attached to a human before! Much less a mostly-human fusion! Isn’t this exciting? You really are a trailblazer, Rose Tree!”

Stepper still didn’t respond to Bill directly, largely since he couldn’t care less about what he was saying. Instead, he let out a loud, anguished scream, his upper arms wrapping tightly around himself as his lower set still gently cradled his damaged gem. And all the while, his thoughts continued rumbling, rattling, like a brutal thunderstorm wreaking havoc across his already ruined mind. 

Hurts! Can’t heal! Need to heal! Can’t! 

Can’t heal… Cracked… Broken…

Fade… fading… Die… Die? Dying…

“Still, you oughta consider yourself lucky, Pine Bud,” Bill continued, hardly caring about the light starting to fade from the fusion’s eyes as he coughed out yet another bout of blood. “Any other space rock would have shattered on the spot after taking a hit like that! I guess you’re pretty fortunate to be saddled with one of the toughest ones there is, Rose Tree.”

Can’t die… Stepper’s thoughts continued to consume him, beating him between a tide of hope and grief all at once. Home… Need to go home… Can’t go home… Lost… Trapped… Alone… With him…

The absolute misery that came along with such a horrific thought swiftly started to overwhelm the fusion, his sobs coming out in tight, anxious bursts. Certainly, he’d never be able to go home, not like this. He’d never be able to see their friends or family again, not that they even wanted to see him in the first place. He was going to die here, no doubt, a slow, agonizing painful end at the hands of a cruel, careless demon who was more than happy to watch that end play out in full. 

But maybe...

Trapped here… With each other… with you! Need… need to… save you… Need… to unfuse…

Another sharp cry escaped the fusion at this, particularly as a familiar white, unfusing light suddenly covered his form, with only the pink scars strewn across him shining through it. Bill drifted away from Stepper so he could observe with eager, sadistic delight as the fusion began to fall apart at the seams, just as he’d anticipated. Just as he’d planned. 

And yet… 

No! Can’t unfuse! No… please…. Need to unfuse… You’ll die… YOU’ll die! Stay together… Stay… like this… to save you…

Slowly but surely, the light began to fade from the fusion, his form still remaining intact, as largely broken and battered as that form currently was. Tears remained in his eyes, though this time, they carried a different emotion from despair entirely. Especially as his aching heart rang with confusion and determination alike. 

Why…? You know why… 

Despite his gem’s powers being severely limited thanks to the damage it had sustained, there was one thing it was still able to do. It flashed softly as his birthmark did the same, all of his focus going into repeating one single, simple statement that spoke volumes at a moment such as this. 

“Our friendship means so much to me! You mean so much to me!”

“Y-you… stayed with me…” Stepper said to himself, aloud this time. And even though his voice was weak and wavering, it was still filled with warmth and resolve to not let his other half suffer through this unbearable anguish alone. “S-so I’m staying with you…”

Despite the heavy crack torn across his gem, despite those cracks spreading out across his entire body, despite the pain still pervading his every sense, the fusion couldn’t help but smile, a few of his tears falling as he maintained his comforting embrace. Bill, however, was far from moved by his sheer determination, stubbornness even, to stay together. 

“Are you two serious right now?!” he asked hotly, his form flashing a bright, warning shade of angry red. “You know what’ll happen to both of you if you stay like this? You’ll DIE!” 

Stepper was surprisingly calm, even despite his poor condition, as he simply shook his head. “I-I… I’ll be fine…” he whispered, more to himself than to the demon. “We’ll be fine… a-as long as we’re… together…” 

“No, you WON’T!” Bill shouted back, completely livid as massive, deadly flames surrounded both of his hands. “All it would take is one more hit and you’re over, finished, through! SHATTERED!” 

The fusion paused, his thoughts slowly starting to become more focused as he looked up at the demon defiantly. “B-but… that’s not what you want…” he asked, his voice still shaking from the palpable pain coursing through him. Still, he chose to ignore that pain the best he could in the thought of turning the tide of this terrible situation in his favor. “M-my gem isn’t any good to you i-if it’s shattered… I-I bet your ‘client’ d-doesn’t want you h-handing them a bunch of b-broken shards… R-right?” 

For perhaps the first time ever, Bill seemed to be at a complete loss for words. His singular eye stared down at the fusion, wide and unreadable as he remained strangely silent for quite some time. All the while, Stepper returned his gaze evenly, hoping that calling the dream demon’s bluff would somehow work, though to what extent, he had no idea. 

When Bill finally did say something, his tone was surprisingly easygoing as his towering form diminished and his color changed back to its normal shade of yellow. “Well, gee, Pine Bud, you sure do have a swell point there. So instead of going to extremes, why don’t we try something a bit more… civil instead?”

In an instant, the entire Quadrangle of Qonfusion disappeared; either that or Bill had teleported them somewhere away from it. But what surprised Stepper even more was that the piercing pain tearing away at his entire form seemed to come to an abrupt, grinding halt. Instead, it was replaced by a baffling sense of numbness, though it was something the fusion couldn’t help but be grateful for, at least until he happened to glance down at his gemstone. By all accounts, the stone was still just as cracked as it had been before, the same pink cracks still deeply marring his skin as he looked over all four of his arms. And yet, those cracks brought him not a single trace of the agony he’d known only seconds ago, as his movements were free and uninhibited once more. 

“What…?” he asked, his voice singular once more as opposed to disjointed to that of his halves’ as it had previously been. “How did-”

“Feeling better, Rose Tree?” Bill chimed as he appeared before the confused fusion. “You should be! I went ahead and put a little momentary pause on all that unbearable agony you were probably going through. Mostly since I need you to actually be coherent for the little chat I want to have with you…”

“Chat?” Stepper eyed the dream demon distrustfully. “About what?”

“Boy, am I glad you asked!” With a snap of his fingers, Bill suddenly conjured up a stately desk for him to sit behind, essentially forcing Stepper to do the same as he magically pulled up a chair for him on its other side. As bewildered as the fusion was by this bizarre turn of events in general, Bill continued, his manner strangely calm and collected, a stark contrast to the violent fury he’d displayed just moments ago. “You see, Rose Tree, after all that hubbub, I just came up with a much easier way to smooth things over here. All we’d need to do is broker a little deal and-”

“No,” Stepper said immediately, hotly as his upper hands slammed down onto the desk. “If you think for one second that you can rope me into another one of your stupid deals, then you can just forget it. I would NEVER make another deal with you, not after-”

“Yeah, yeah, Pine Bud, we’re all more than well aware about just how much I ‘traumatized’ you before,” Bill rolled his eye as he reclined back into his seat. “But just hear me out. With that crack on your gut, the chances of you lasting long are pretty low, even if I don’t decide I just wanna wipe you outta existence out of sheer annoyance alone. Humans in particular don’t tend to do too well here‒most of the ones who’ve ever gotten stuck here in the ol’ N.R. either ended up starving to death or spiraling into insanity in a matter of days! And as fun as that would be to watch happen to you, Rose Tree, I think we can reach a compromise that might just be able to get you back home instead!”

“W-wait… before, you said you can’t get me back to our dimension,” Stepper remarked dismissively, though he couldn’t deny the brief bout of hope that filled him all the same. “...Can you?”

“As far as you know, I can,” Bill retorted easily. “See, even if I can’t open up one of those reality tears or go to your dimension from the Nightmare Realm myself, that doesn’t mean I can’t send things that are from that dimension back to it with a little bit of… concentration. And hey, you just so happen to fall under the category of things that are from your dimension, kid! And you’re super lucky too, Pine Bud, ‘cause I’m willing to offer you the bargain of a lifetime! A one-way ticket back to your own dimension, in exchange for one tiny, simple thing that’s so trivial and unimportant, I bet you won’t even notice that it’s gone!”

“Let me guess,” Stepper said dryly, knowing this sounded far too familiar for comfort. “My gem?”

“Nope! Not this time!” 

The fusion blinked, genuinely surprised at this as he made another uncertain, anxious assumption. “M-my body? You want to possess my--our body, don’t you?”

“Nah, I’m not much on taking fusions for a spin,” the demon said flippantly. “They’re always too much to contend with in the headspace. Takes all the fun out of possession, if you ask me!”

By now, Stepper was becoming more and more unsettled as he tried to think of what else he had that Bill could possibly want from him. But ultimately, he couldn’t come up with anything. At least not anything that the demon hadn’t tried to or already had taken from him in the past. “S-so… what do you want then?”

If the dream demon could have smiled, he certainly would have been now as he leaned in across the desk toward the uneasy fusion before him. “What I want is something only you can give me, Rose Tree…” he began darkly, ominously even. “And that something is... that fancy-schmancy journal of yours!”

As Bill’s tone turned light and chipper once more, Stepper balked, dumbfounded as he tried to make sense of this unexpected twist. “My… my shield journal?” he asked, one of his lower hands absently drifting down toward his gem, though he made no move to summon the weapon. “What would… why would you want that?”

“Aw, what? It’s a rare read, one of a kind, really!” Bill explained, conjuring up an illusion of a book in question in the middle of the desk. “Plus, it just so happens to be filled with all sorts of juicy tidbits about two of my favorite twerps in the entire multiverse. Can ya really blame me for wanting a copy of my own?”

“That’s not why you want it, and both you and I know that,” Stepper scoffed harshly. “Everything that’s in my journal, I’m sure you already know. You do make it your mission to poke around in other peoples’ business all the time, after all. So stop lying for a change and tell me why you’re really after it.”

“Come on, Pine Bud, you know my talent for lying is one of my best qualities!” the dream demon taunted playfully. “But fine, if you really want the boring old truth, here it is: I just wanna see you lose your prized, precious weapon for good.”

“W-wait…” Stepper paused, a heavy wave of dread washing over him. “S-so… if I give my journal to you then… then I won’t-”

“Nope! You won’t be able to summon it ever again!” Bill confirmed mirthfully. “No more special shield tossing for you, Rose Tree! Guess that would make you a fusion without a weapon, a fundamentally useless one at that! Then again, you wouldn’t be the only one considering Sword Bud is a thing. Still, if you wanna get back home, then all you gotta do is kiss that journal goodbye. Forever! Sounds like a small price to pay to see your friends and family again and NOT die a slow, painful death in a literal nightmare dimension, dontcha think?”

Stepper faltered, unsure of what to say to this awful proposal and everything it entailed. “I… I need time to think…” he muttered, more to himself than to Bill. 

“Hey, take all the time you want, Pine Bud!” Bill surprisingly agreed, spinning around in his chair to give the fusion some “privacy”. “Just keep in mind, time’s not something you really have on your side anymore, not with that crack on your gem set to tear you apart at any given second!”

Stepper sighed, glaring in the demon’s direction disdainfully before stealing a glance down at his own aforementioned gemstone. The crack torn across it was just as prominent and damming as ever, looking so misplaced and wrong against something that was so familiar and fond to him. “What do we do…?” he whispered to himself, lightly tracing a finger over the crevice on the stone. “We can’t trust him, you know we can’t! I do know, but… what other choice do we have? W-we… we’ll keep fighting him! We’ve lasted against him this long, we can-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “We can what? We’re cracked! We won’t last long like this, even if we do stay together… We can’t heal ourselves… But… m-maybe… if we go home… The Gems might be able to find a way to help us.”

He rubbed his temples, frustrated and distraught at the impossible position he’d found himself in. “B-but… our journal,” he countered morosely. “Never being able to summon it again is… I know, I don’t like it either. Our journal is one of my favorite things about us. But… you’re more important to me than any book… A-and I’d rather lose that book forever then lose you forever…” For what felt like the millionth time since he’d been pulled into the Nightmare Realm, he could feel tears finding a place in his eyes once more as his upper arms held onto him lightly. “...Same here…” he said softly, yet sadly all the same. “So… we’re doing this…? I don’t want to, but… if we don’t have any other choice…”

“You DON’T!” Bill suddenly interrupted, spinning back around to face the fusion. “So, since your mind’s all made up, let’s get to summoning that journal for the last time so we can really seal this deal, huh?”

Stepper was quick to meet the demon’s callous remarks with a stern glare, wanting to make sure that he knew exactly what he was getting himself into here. “The only thing you want is my shield journal,” he began firmly. “That’s it, right? Nothing more along with it? No strings attached?”

“None at all, Rose Tree!” Bill assured evenly, extending a blue flame-covered hand for him to shake. “All you gotta do is fork over that journal and you’ll be home before you know it! I promise.”

“Tch, as if your promises ever even mean anything,” Stepper deadpanned crossly. “But… if all I stand to lose is my shield journal for a chance to go home and get as far away from you as possible, then…” He sighed, already regretting this decision and already anticipating that it would go horribly wrong somehow. But even then, he thought, whatever was about to happen had to be at least somewhat better than the alternative of being trapped here with Bill forever. “I’ll take it.”

With this, Stepper solidly shook the dream demon’s flame-engulfed hand, essentially sealing both the deal and his own fate, whatever that fate without his journal was about to be. “Great!” Bill quipped excitedly as he pulled his hand away. “I knew we’d be able to work something out, Pine Bud. Now… pay up.”

“...C-can I even summon my journal like this…?” Stepper wondered, nervously glancing down at his damaged gem once more. “I can’t heal, so-”

“Yeesh, kid, you worry too much!” Bill rebuffed impatiently. “You’re cracked, not shattered! Some of your powers are still bound to work. Just give it a try and see!”

Stepper scowled at the dream demon, but even so, he did as he said, positioning his lower set of hands just below his gem. He took in a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes in the hopes that this would still somehow work. And though it took a moment of deep concentration, sure enough it did, as his gem, even as cracked as it currently was, began to take on a gentle, familiar sort of glow. From that glow, his shield journal emerged, though from the very start it was glitching in and out of existence in reaction to the damage he had sustained. Unable to float on its own, the book fell out of the air, though fortunately he managed to narrowly catch it in his lower set of arms. 

As he pulled it up closer to him, Stepper couldn’t help but frown, even as the journal began to stabilize in his grip. Though it had taken him time to learn to appreciate his weapon when he’d first fused, by now, he’d come to realize just how special and unique his shield journal really was. It was powerful, it was versatile, but even more than that, it was reflective of him, of his halves and who they were, both together and apart. And yet, here he was, ready to give it all away without a chance at ever getting it back. It was a heartbreaking decision, but a necessary one. One that both of his halves knew they had to make if they ever hoped to save each other. 

“Alright, Rose Tree,” Bill remarked, already extending a hand out to retrieve the book. “Hand it over.”

Stepper sighed, resigning himself to that decision as he pulled his sights away from the journal to stare Bill down brazenly. And, with his movements slow and steady, the fusion lifted his shield journal up, offering it to the dream demon as he prepared to part ways with it permanently. 

Without skipping a single beat, Bill swiftly snatched the journal away from Stepper. The effect was immediate, for as soon as the shield journal left his hands, the fusion took in a sharp gasp, his former agony returning in full force as his gem, birthmark, and cracks strewn across his skin all flashed a vibrant, garish pink. As that flash died down every bit as quickly, his eyes began to roll back in his head, one of his hands involuntarily reaching out toward the journal that Bill had already taken away from him. But that hand fell away as the fusion drifted off into a deep, unconscious void, lost to his pain and perhaps, to something else entirely. 

“Well, that takes care of that!” Bill concluded brightly, sending the fusion’s journal away with a mere snap of his fingers. “Now, all we need is a…” At that exact moment, the Nightmare Realm itself rippled with a sudden, forign energy, one that tore open a rift in the dimension’s already chaotic plane. A rift that happened to form into a portal not too far away from where the dream demon happened to be floating. “Aha! Perfect timing!” 

Bill quickly pulled Stepper’s limp, listless form toward the newly-created portal, one that, sure enough, led right to the very dimension the fusion was from. “Looks like you’re getting your ticket home after all, Rose Tree!” the dream demon quipped, shaking the unconscious fusion roughly. “Ohoho!” Bill’s interest peaked as he stole another brief glance through the portal beside him. “And you’ll even get your own welcoming party too! How nice!”

This ‘welcoming party’ was, in truth, more of a search party, one composed of the Gems and Mabel as they all frantically combed through the woods for none other than Steven and Dipper themselves. It was a search that had been ongoing for quite some time now, and after several restless nights of the boys’ mysterious absence, stress and exhaustion was weighing heavily upon them all as their relatively fruitless effort continued. 

“I just don’t understand!” Pearl huffed, exasperated as she peered around yet another tree. “How did they just… completely disappear without a trace?! Nothing about this makes any sense!”

“You sure your future vision hasn’t seen anything about where they’re at, G?” Amethyst asked, looking to Garnet almost pleadingly. 

The Gem leader took pause at this, adjusting her shades before letting out a disappointed sigh. “No,” she reported tiredly. “Nothing.”

“B-But they’ve been gone for three days now!” Mabel explained, her tone deeply fretful. The growing bags under her eyes were telling of the fact that she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since the boys had vanished, and by all accounts, she had no intentions of even trying to get any until they were safe and found. “Steven and Dipper wouldn’t just… leave without telling anyone! Something must have happened to them! We’ve gotta find them, please!”

“Don’t worry,” Garnet assured, placing a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re not going to stop looking until we do. No matter how far we have to go, we’ll-”

“Actually, Fuse Box, you won’t have to go that far to find ‘em…”

The entire group let out a shared, startled gasp upon hearing this all-too familiar voice echo through the nearby forest. It instantly drew their attention to the surprising portal torn near a tree just a ways ahead of them, and floating within the void it contained was none other than Bill Cipher himself. 

“Y-you!” Pearl shouted as her, Garnet, and Amethyst all swiftly summoned their weapons. “What are you doing here?!”

“Yeah, get lost, chump!” Amethyst yelled just as bitterly, ready to lash out with her whip at a moment’s notice. 

“We have no time to deal with you right now, Bill,” Garnet added rigidly, her gauntlets curled into tight fists. “We have something much more important we need to take care of.”

“Oh really?” the demon retorted casually. “You mean you don’t have any time… for him?”

Another heavy round of shock, one even stronger and piercing than the last, ran through the group as Bill suddenly hoisted a certain, unconscious four-armed figure up for them all to see. “S-Stepper!” Mabel cried, tears already springing up in her eyes. She didn’t hesitate to try to rush to him, though Amethyst made sure to hold her back just before she could. “W-what is he… h-how did he get-”

“How’d he get here? To the cozy little corner of the multiverse I call home? Great question, Shooting Star!” Bill piped up. “Ya see, poor Pine Tree and Rosebud here tumbled through a randomly-occurring interdimensional tear, just like this one right here! Ohoho boy, if you all could have only SEEN the look of sheer terror on their faces when they realized where they were! What a pair of spineless little-”

“Quiet!” Pearl snapped hotly, angrily tossing her spear, which struck the tree just above where the portal hung. “What did you do to them, you monster?!”

“I didn’t do much of anything to them,” the demon remarked with faux innocence. “Well, aside from put them in their place for being dumb enough to think they could stand up to me, of course. But I’ve had my fun with Rose Tree here, and better yet, I’ve gotten what I wanted outta him, so I think I’ll just do you all a solid and toss him back over to you. Free of charge!”

“W-what… what do you mean you got what you wanted out of him…?” Mabel asked, frightened by the sheer vagueness of that statement alone. 

“Wouldn’t YOU like to know, kid,” Bill scoffed, rolling his eye. “Still, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough. Or not. Doesn’t really matter to me if you do either way. Anyway here, take your empty-headed Pine Bud back.” Without much warning at all, the demon suddenly threw Stepper forward, sending him tumbling through the portal and back into his own dimension with little effort or care at all. Though Amethyst, Pearl, and Mabel all gasped in shared surprise at his sudden return, Garnet was the first to react, rushing in to catch the comatose fusion before he could hit the ground. 

“Cipher!” the Gem leader shouted furiously as she glared up at the portal before her. 

“Good to see you all again too!” Bill replied, offering the group a cheerful wave as said portal began to seal itself back up. “I have a feeling it won’t be long before the next time we meet up. Maybe we’ll do lunch! But until then, remember: I’ll be WATCHING you!” 

The dream demon let out another insane, sadistic laugh that echoed through the woods even after the portal itself was gone. Amethyst and Pearl leapt forward in an attempt to keep it from closing so they could properly attack Bill, but their chance was gone before they could even try it. 

“Ugh! I hate that guy!” Amethyst groaned, severely annoyed as her whip disappeared. 

“It’s safe to say we all do by this point…” Pearl agreed just as disdainfully. “B-but, let’s look on the bright side: at least we… ‘found’ Steven and Dipper!”

A sudden gasp from Garnet cut through this small bout of relief entirely as she got a chance to properly look over the limp fusion lying in her arms. “N-no…” she whispered, her visor disappearing to reveal the tears welling up in all three of her eyes. 

“G-Garnet….?” Mabel took a cautious step forward. “I-is… is he ok?”

By now, Pearl and Amethyst had caught onto what had Garnet so distraught, and likewise, their panic was just as palpable. The white Gem collapsed to her knees, tears finding a place in her eyes as well as she moved a trembling hand to cover her mouth. The purple Gem was absolutely shaken, though she still managed to rush over to Mabel, hoping to pull her away before she could see what had truly become of her brother and best friend. 

“Uh, h-hey, Mabel!” she exclaimed, throwing on a forced smile as she turned the girl around. “Why don’t we, um… h-head back to the shack a-and tell Stan and Ford the good news?”

“No!” Mabel protested, pulling herself away. “I-I want to see him!” None of the Gems were really able to stop her as she rushed to Stepper’s side, though the moment she caught sight of his gem, she practically fell ill. “H-his… his gem…” she began, a sob slipping out as she knelt down beside him. “I-it’s…”

“Cracked…” Garnet finished, her tone awash in grief. 

“AUGH!” Amethyst suddenly shouted, absolutely infuriated as she slammed her fist against the nearest tree. “He did this to them, that stupid triangle piece of-”

“AMETHYST!” Pearl cut her off just in time. 

Meanwhile, Mabel placed a gentle, shaking hand against the unconscious fusion’s arm, noticing the jagged pink lines torn across it, only adding to just how disheveled and damaged he looked overall between his torn and tattered clothes and countless scratches and scrapes. “D-Dipper… Steven…” she whispered, her heart aching as she noticed the traces of pain in his otherwise empty expression. “S-Stepper…”

At this, the fusion suddenly began to stir, much to everyone’s surprise, especially as he let out a soft, exhausted groan. “M-Mabel…?” he spoke, his voice his own yet still so broken in an entirely different way all the same. 

“Stepper!” Mabel and the Gems all exclaimed in unison as they began to crowd around him. At least until Garnet put a swift stop to it. 

“Give him some space,” she ordered her teammates, looking down at the fusion in her arms earnestly as he addressed her. 

“G-Garnet… i-is… is that… you?” he asked, clearly agonized by the effort alone as he remained limp in her hold. 

“Yes,” Garnet couldn’t help but smile, overwhelmed with relief to see that he was still alive at all after what he’d been through. “Stepper, y-you… your gem is badly damaged. But don’t worry. We’re going to take care of you.”

Stepper didn’t respond, his eyes bleary as he tried and failed to focus on the Gem leader. His thoughts were all a distant haze, enshrouded by the immense, unending pain that he felt like he had been drowning in for ages now. So instead, he let his eyes slowly slip shut once more, content to let Mabel and the Gems do whatever they could to help, even if he didn’t know how he’d ended up among them to begin with. 

“C-can’t he just heal himself?!” Mabel asked, frantic. “Stepper, just use your healing powers on your gem and-”

“M-Mabel, he’s… cra--damaged,” Pearl interjected, shuddering even as she spoke the horrific word. “His powers probably aren’t working right. W-well have to help him some other way.”

“We’ll take him to Rose’s fountain,” Garnet concluded, her tone firm as her shades appeared once more. Slowly and carefully, she stood with Stepper still in her arms, carrying his languid form as comfortably as she could. “It’s waters should be able to fix his gem. In the meantime, Amethyst, go get Stan and Ford and bring them there. They need to know what happened to Dipper.”

“Right,” Amethyst nodded, not even hesitating to turn and rush back through the forest toward the shack. At the same time, Garnet, Pearl, and Mabel wasted no time in setting off as well, marching swiftly through the woods to get back to the temple as fast as possible. Despite Garnet’s steady pace, Mabel did her best to keep up with her, if only so she could keep a comforting hold on one of Stepper’s lower hands all the while. 

“I-it’s ok, Ste-bro,” she whispered to him tearfully, trying to muster a smile even if he couldn’t currently see it. “You’re gonna be o-ok… We’ll fix you right up, you’ll see. I-I promise.”

For his part, Stepper could barely even hear her, much less the anxious conversation stirring up between Garnet and Pearl along the way. He only briefly caught bits and pieces of it; the word “cracked” in particular came up over and over again, though given his current condition that was hardly surprising. Largely, Stepper spent the bulk of their brisk trip back to the temple wavering in and out of consciousness, steeped in dull, familiar agony all the while. Yet strangely, he happened to find some comfort amidst that agony: the brief, blurry flashes of war, sunlight sparkling through the trees high above him, the secure, safe hold Garnet had on him as she held him close in a protective carry, the soft, gentle grip Mabel made sure to keep his hand within, one that he wished he could return, even if he didn’t have the strength for it. 

After what seemed like years, the group finally burst into the temple, making a beeline for the warp pad. Stepper didn’t register its activation, nor was he aware for anything at all until they arrived at a familiar, serene setting. 

The air around Rose’s iconic fountain was always warm and sweet, smelling of the pink blossoms that flourished all around it. That beauty was lost on the group as they ran toward it however, their purpose grim and their hopes high that its waters could somehow work another miracle, just as it had so many before. There was no deliberation as Garnet reached the fountain first, repositioning Stepper before she gently, carefully lowered him down into its sparkling, rejuvenating water, allowing him to sink into it until it covered his cracked gemstone completely. 

For a moment, the most any of them could do was wait. The fountain’s waters grew still, the fusion floating within them just as still too, at least until a warm, radiant light began to surround him. Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst all watched with wide, wondering eyes as that light became practically blinding, and even still they were kept waiting as it slowly faded away. At least until Stepper splashed up out of the fountain’s waters with a startled, heavy gasp. 

“Stepper!” Mabel cried, rushing for him immediately. Before the fusion even had time to properly orient himself, she barreled into him, knocking him back into the water with a tight, elated hug. “I-I’m so glad you’re ok! Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

“M-Mabel,” Stepper couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as he returned her embrace. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re alright!” Pearl chimed in as her and Garnet remained at the edge of the fountain. “You’re-” She stopped short, her relief whiplashing right back into alarm as Stepper began to climb out of the fountain himself. “I-it… it can’t be… Y-you… you’re gem i-is still…”

Stepper’s stunned gasp filled in the blanks as he looked down to the gemstone, only to find that, sure enough, it was every bit as cracked as it had been before. And even more than that, it was strangely duller somehow, its usual bright pink muted to a very noticeable degree. While most of the cracks scarring his skin had disappeared, a few still remained, mostly all congregated around the gemstone itself as they retained the same sort of dull pink pallor. “W-what…?” he asked, quite frightened as one of his lower arms reached for the damaged stone. “B-but how…?”

“T-this should have worked!” Mabel exclaimed, distraught as she took in the sight of the stone herself. “It should have healed you! Why didn’t it work!?”

“Stepper,” Garnet interjected, her tone surprisingly steady as she approached the fusion. “Your gem is still cracked, but you appear to be fine. Tell us you’re feeling.”

“Um, w-well… I-I feel fine now,” Stepper shrugged, though his tone was honest all the same. And it was true, all of the pain that had prevailed his senses disappeared the moment his gem so much as touched the fountain’s healing waters. “But… my gem… w-what happened to it…?”

Garnet, Pearl, and Mabel exchanged a confused, concerned glance at this, though the white Gem was ultimately the one to speak up to it. “Y-you mean… you don’t remember?”

Stepper shook his head, his brow furrowing in thought as he tried to think about how his gem might have been so severely damaged, though in the end, nothing came to him. “That’s… troubling…” Garnet remarked, though she didn’t bother explaining any further. At least not at the moment. “Still, even if you feel fine, Stepper, you should unfuse so we can see how each of you are doing on your own.”

Now it was Stepper’s turn to be confused as he looked to the Gem leader as if what she’d just said was the most baffling thing he’d ever heard. Which, at least to him, it was. “Unfuse?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, you know, unfuse?” Mabel repeated with a ghost of a smile. “As much as we love having you around, Stepper, we should probably check on Steven and Dipper too.”

A beat of silence that felt like it lasted ages passed at this, with only the fountain’s flowing water filling it in. And all the while, Stepper’s expression was awash in bewilderment, his eyes wide and unknowing as he voiced a simple question that sent shockwaves out the moment it was asked. 

“Who?”

Next: 

#please dont read this here formatting sucks #read it on ff net and ao3 plssssss #jen writes #universe falls #rifts #rmd #gravity falls #steven universe #crossover #au #dipper #steven #stepper #bill cipher #mabel #garnet #amethyst #pearl #connie #keyword is shield journal #i have Ascended #holy fuck its done

[askthedespairkids]

Chapter 1: Your First Lesson in Despair ~Post-Trial~

//And the end to the actual plot of chapter 1! Probably will do FTE after this or maybe I’ll do all of them as a big post at the very end of the story. We’ll see!

//Hope ya’ll enjoy this!

-Chapter 1, Post Trial-

 “Congratulations! Just as you all suspected, the one who trapped and killed Maemi Watanabe was none other than Saori Kibe, the Ultimate Paranormal Investigator!” Monokuma clapped. He says ‘congratulations’, but this doesn’t feel like a victory. Not at all.

 “Kibe…” Shinko-san spoke through gritted teeth. “I want to know. I want to know why the fuck this all went down! Why the hell did you kill Watanabe?! Was your past that fuckin’ bad?!”

 “Th-that’s not it…” Kibe-san tried.

 “Then what?! What the fuck could’ve possibly happened to-“

 “Shinko-sama. Enough. Allow Kibe-sama to speak freely, or this will go nowhere.” Ishikawa-san cut in. Shinko-san grunted and turned away from Kibe-san. She took a breath and looked up at us.

 “I…I had to get out of here. When Monokuma, I knew what my note had to be…my older sister and I had a fight before I entered Hope’s Peak. She said some things, I said some things…and she said she never wanted to see me again…th-the idea that I’m stuck in here and might never get to reconcile with her…” Kibe-san’s eyes seemed to light us as she thought of her sister. “She was really smart, I couldn’t help but admire her. Even if she’d hate me, I can’t help but love my sister…”

 “What a stupid reason.” Shinko-san spat.

 “Shut up, will you?! My god, do you not think before you speak?! I’m so fuckin’ sorry that you have nobody to care about in the outside world, but not everyone else is like you!” Kurohiko-san snapped, surprising everyone. “K…Kibe-san cares about her family above all else, and that’s not something that she should be hated for. The whole point of motives is that if we knew about those notes, we would’ve killed for it. So…it’s not Kibe-san’s fault that she figured out the note before seeing it.”

 “K-Kurohiko-kun…” Kibe-san’s bottom lip trembled. “E-even if you say that, I killed Watanabe-san! I killed someone who was going to work so hard to keep everyone alive and I targeted her because of it! It’s my fault…! Watanabe-san…I’m sorry! I’m s-sorry…!”

 “Watanabe-sama was a very forgiving person…I’m sure that she would forgive your actions from beyond the eternal slumber. Memento Mori…” Ishikawa-san whispered the last part of her statement. I looked at Kibe-san, knowing what she must be going through. The idea of never seeing a family member again, I don’t think I could handle it either…

 “I…I don’t expect anyone here to forgive me. I was ready to sacrifice you all so I could leave…I’m an awful person!”

 “…it’s okay, Kibe-san. I don’t blame you.” We all looked at Ram-san. “Ah, um…! Th-that is to say…we were putting in this kind of situation, so our minds wouldn’t think of many options…” Even though she got suspected because of Kibe-san…Ram-san, you’re a really nice person, aren’t you? But who are you really…?

 “Ram-san…thank you.” Kibe-san smiled weakly.

 “Alright, if we’re done with all that, then it’s time to move onto the main event!” Monokuma jumped up to interrupt us. M…main event…? “It’s time to move onto the punishment!”

 “P-punishment…th-the execution?!” Kibe-san fell to her knees. “W-wait, no, don’t I get a chance to plead a case or something?!”

 “Let’s get this moving, I’ve prepared a very special punishment for the Ultimate Paranormal Investigator, Saori Kibe!” H-he wasn’t even listening to her!

 “You can’t do this, you have to let me outta here now! Someone get me out of here!” Kibe-san began pounding on the walls. I can’t turn away, but I don’t want to watch.

 “Let’s give it everything we’ve got! Iiiiiiit’s PUNISHMENT TIME!!”

 “RETSUKOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

 -GAME OVER- -SAORI KIBE HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY!- -COMMENCING EXECUTION!-

 We all watched with horror a metal chain latched around Kibe-san’s neck and dragged her off to a room behind Monokuma’s throne as a massive TV screen lowered into the room and flashed on. The screen showed Kibe-san in the middle a child’s bedroom, the camera looking like any old camera used for home videos.

 -Saori Kibe’s Execution: What’s in the Shadows?-

 Kibe-san turned on a flashlight and shined it around the room trying to find an exit. In the corner of the room a rocking chair began to move on its own causing Kibe-san to jump and hit her back against the wall. When she touched it, a panel moved away from the wall and a blade stabbed her through the arm she wasn’t holding the flashlight with.

 She stumbled, knocking into the cot and onto the toys scattered on the floor. She yelped again and rolled off them and shined the flashlight again, seeing an exit in front of her. The door swung open and something behind Kibe-san appeared, grabbing her by the ankle and dragging her through the doorway. The camera switched to a staircase and we watched as Kibe-san was thrown down the staircase, hitting her head several times.

 She managed to get up at the bottom though was visibly bleeding from a wound on her head. Then the shadow appeared again behind her. The figured grabbed Kibe-san by the head but before we could all see what happened, the camera footage glitched out for a few moments.

 It came back and the sight left in front of us was Kibe-san sitting on a couch with her neck clearly broken and a spear stabbed through her torso.

 --

 We were in shock. Even Sly-san had been caught off guard by the brutality of the execution. Ram-san had fallen to her knees and was sobbing into her hands, unable to even look up at the TV screen that the rest of us, try as we might, couldn’t tear our gazes away from.

 “Wowee! That was pretty suspenseful, don’t’cha think?! Like that one horror movie! What’s it called? Paranormal Ac-“

 “Wh-what the hell was that…?” Okanaya-san said weakly. “She was gonna die so why make a twisted show of it…?”

 “Huh? She killed someone in such a fancy way, so why shouldn’t she get the same treatment? Get a grip, idiots! I just paid her back for what she did to your precious leader!” Monokuma stuck a paw in the air.

 “Ah…Monokuma’s right. Kibe simply got what she deserved.” Kurosaki-san shrugged. “Such a waste of space, thinking she could get away with killing Mademoiselle Watanabe like that. Frankly, you should’ve prolonged her head. Snapping her neck was far too kind.”

 “Oh, you think so? Got any notes for me next time?” Monokuma produced a notepad.

 “K-Kurosaki-san?! What are you saying?! How can you be okay with what you just saw?!” I couldn’t believe Kurosaki-san would say that. No matter how you look at it, Kibe-san didn’t deserve to die. Especially not like that. Kurosaki-san simply looked at me before his face darkened with a smirk. A smirk I’d never expect to see on someone. It was so full of malice that it made me wince.

 “Huh? Nagata-kyun, I would prefer if you kept that kind of question to yourself! After all…I’ll never forgive Kibe for killing her. Never ever.” Kurosaki-san tipped his hat down. “Mademoiselle Watanabe…she went through so much, and yet…”

 “What was that about Watanabe-san?” Kurohiko-san asked.

 “Nothing. Never mind that. The trial is over, so how about we all go get some rest, m’kay?” Kurosaki-san smiled as gently as he would normally, but I can’t get that image of a few seconds ago out of my head. Kurosaki-san…just what kind of person are you?

 -Chapter 1, Post Trial Ryuu-

 I sat in my room staring blankly at the ceiling, I was trying my best to fall asleep, but…the things I saw today. Watanabe-san’s murder. Kibe-san’s execution. Kurosaki-san’s inner darkness. I’d probably just have a nightmare if I tried to sleep.

 The bell at my door rang. “C-coming!” Though I was hesitant, I went and answered it. And when I opened the door, standing there scratching his neck awkwardly was Okanaya-san.

 “H-hey, um…it’s Nagaru, right…?”

 “Nagata.” I corrected.

 “R-right! Nagata…sorry, um…I’m not really good at this stuff, but…you helped me during the trial today, so I wanted to thank you. You knew I went through that cafeteria, but you lied to save me. Did…you really think I was innocent that much?” If I was honest, a lot of it was down to Kurosaki-san…

 “I guess I just don’t see you as a killer.” I murmured. I was still nervous to talk to him knowing what his temper is like. “You weren’t the killer, so I did what I needed to in order to get everyone else to believe me. I’m just glad that everything turned out as good as it could have…” No, if everything was as good as it could be, I wouldn’t be in a killing game with everyone.

 “Y-yeah…you really don’t see me as a killer?”

 “Should I?”

 “It’s just…” His voice trailed off. Was…Okanaya-san blushing? “…most people assume I’m a serious brute, but I’m not a bad person. I don’t think I am in any case. Sorry about hitting you before, by the way. If I didn’t cause a commotion, Kibe might not have been able to steal those keys for her plan.”

 “You shouldn’t blame yourself. And I’m fine, see?” I smiled. It was forced, but I didn’t want Okanaya-san feeling down. “We’re in such a strange situation, I can’t blame you for being tense. We’re all handling the situation in different ways and to different degrees…but, from now on, if you want people to see you in a better light then you should include yourself in the group. Come to the cafeteria tomorrow.”

 “Th-the cafeteria…” Okanaya-san looked nervous about that idea.

 “I’ll wait for you there, you can sit with me.” I don’t know what was causing me to be so nice to him. Hopefully he’ll come though.

 “Yeah…thanks, Nagata.” He smiled softly…

 …

Okanaya-san’s smile feels…comforting.

 -Chapter 1 Post Trial Yuuki-

 “A rendezvous with you, is this a date or do you plan on trying to kill me?” Yuuki asked.

 “Please don’t suggest either of those things ever again. I just need to talk to you, seeing as you’re the most suspicious one in the group.” Sly crossed his arms.

 “I don’t really like hearing that from the Ultimate Assassin. Couldn’t a killing game be one big convoluted method of killing a bunch of targets at once?” Yuuki smirked. “Of course, you’re not the one behind the killing game.”

 “You’re so sure of that?”

 “I am.”

 “Why?”

 “Are you the mastermind?” Yuuki stepped a little closer.

 “No, I’m not.” Sly took a step back, his expression becoming increasingly more irritated. “Who are you? You introduced yourself as the Ultimate Explorer, but my gut is telling me that was probably a lie.”

 “You think I’d lie to you all? I haven’t told any lies since I got here.” Yuuki lied.

 “Kurosaki let me make one thing clear. As long as you aren’t a threat, I won’t bother you. I won’t tolerate any behaviour like before though.”

 “No need to worry about that. Mademoiselle Watanabe was a special case to me. I won’t become so emotional next time.”

 “Why is that?”

 “Why the interest? You’re an assassin, and you barely know anyone here. Should you care so much about me and my motivations?”

 “I may be an assassin, but I’m still a human. I don’t care about these people, but they still don’t deserve to die in such fashions, that much is obvious to anyone.” Sly said. Yuuki stared at Sly for a while before putting a hand to his chin and nodding thoughtfully.

 “Just as I thought…you’re a special one, Herr Knives.” Yuuki stepped closer and trapped Sly by slamming his hand against the wall behind Sly and using his other hand to tilt Sly’s chin up towards Yuuki’s face. “Please…entertain me sometime.”

 “Gross.” Sly answered, unphased. He pushed Yuuki off him. “Try not to get yourself into any trouble.” And with that, Sly walked off. Yuuki watched as Sly left and smirked once more.

 “So many interesting people here. I wonder how things will proceed from here.”

 -Chapter 1, Your First Lesson in Despair END-

14 students remain

#Mod J #mod post #DR #Foundation Short Stories #79-C KG AU

[lizziethereader]

a bunch of 11 questions tags

I was tagged in a few 11 question tags over the last few weeks and am finally getting around to them. I hope you don’t mind me putting them all together in one masterpost under the cut. 

thank you so much  for tagging me @anassarhenisch, @thereadingchallengechallenge, @books-are-portals, @maddie-mux and @bibliophilecats! I really do appreciate getting tagged even though it takes me a while to doing the tags. 

I’ll put my own questions and the people I’m tagging up here and the answers to all your questions under the cut ;) 

my questions: 

1. What are you looking forward to most when it comes to the upcoming holidays? (whichever holiday you want to refer to) 2. Have you been to a concert lately? Which one?  3. Which piece of media (book, movie, video, etc.) are you looking forward to consuming next?  4. If someone wrote a fictionalized (and heavily embellished) novel of your life, which genre would you like it to be? 5. What’s the last song you had stuck in your head?  6. What’s the weather currently like where you are? 7. How many open tabs in a browser is too many? (asking for a friend) 8. Are you good with money? (if so, teach me your ways!) 9. What’s the coolest thing a teacher of yours has ever done? (I wanna become the cool teacher, so I need to do some research, haha) 10. If money, space and time didn’t matter, which animal would you like to have?  11. Share a random fact about yourself! (please?) 

I’m tagging @bookvoyage, @lilymaidofgallifrey, @dreamingofreadinggoals, @aliteraryprincess, @flamingmirrorbookish, @the-forest-library, @manuscripts-dontburn and @thelivebookproject (no pressure though)  and anyone who just feels like doing this, of course! 

sooo, let’s get crackin! 

here’s @anassarhenisch‘s questions: 

1. Celtic rock, yes or no? 

I have honestly never listened to it... I’m not averse to give it a try though!

2. What’s the last book you quit reading?  quit as in abandoned? I don’t really do that... The last book I finished reading was ‘Big Mouth and Ugly Girl’ by Joyce Carol Oates

3. What’s your favourite fall activity?  baking and drinking cider! (yes you can do that all year round, but it just feels cozy, right?)

4. Do you believe in ghosts?  I’m probably a ghost agnostic. I don’t know if they exist but I’m not saying they don’t

5. When’s the last time you went to a circus or carnival?  There’s this big children’s festival in my town for two weekends every August and there’s always a circus, too. They did a special performance for all the volunteers who help with the festival and I went to that. So, long story short, like 2 months ago?

6. What does your favourite shirt look like?  hmmm good question. If we’re talking about T-shirts then it’s probably my Portal shirt. 

7. Do you like eating fish?  hahaha, not at all actually! I rarely meet other people who don’t. But yeah, I actually don’t like any seafood. 

8. Who’s your favourite artist?  oh man, this is a very difficult one! I’m not sure I can name a favorite. I like just being in awe of a piece of art (be it a painting, piece of music or something else) and I wouldn’t say I have one person I like better than all the others. Sorry for the lame answer!

9. Do you have any celebrity connections?  none whatsoever (that I know of) 

10. Are you a sports fan?  only equestrian sports and even then I don’t need to see every event there is. But I do enjoy watching the occasional tournament

11. How comfortable are you embarrassing yourself in public?  NOT AT ALL. Good thing I became a teacher then, eh? :P 

next up: @thereadingchallengechallenge‘s questions: 

What are you currently reading?  I just started reading Children of Blood and Bone!

Favourite snack?  I can’t pick just one, so: popcorn, macadamia nuts, chocolate covered raisins and all things chocolate :D

Do you set yourself a reading list or pick books by mood?  half/half. I have some types of books to read each month (1 poetry book, 1 classic, 1 nonfiction book) and then choose one of those based on my mood. And then I randomly select 3 books from my tbr. Those are always a surprise! 

Have you travelled anywhere so far this year?  Yup. I went to Germany 2 times (to a theme park), flew to London for book shopping and musicals twice, and went to Budapest with two friends for a weekend 

Reading anything spooky before Halloween?  Not really. I’m not a spooky books (or movies) person. 

Binge watching anything at the moment? I just finished binge watching Star Trek Discovery yesterday but I’m sure I’ll find something new soon. 

Who’s the author you’ve read most?  Douglas Coupland, apparently

What’s your favourite season and why?  Spring! Everything is getting warmer and greener again, my depression gets better and things are just generally looking up (usually)

Are you looking forward to any new releases?  I don’t think I’m waiting for anything at the moment...

What’s a quote you love?  “No, we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars” from Oscar Wilde’s Lady Windermere's Fan

Recommend a book?  With pleasure! It Devours! by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor 

then we have @books-are-portals‘s questions: 

1. First thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “waffles”?  the amaaaaazing waffles at my town’s children’s festival each year. Also Leslie Knope 

2. Have you ever knitted anything? What was it?  When we learned to knit in school I knitted a scarf but I haven’t knitted anything since and I’m not sure I still could

3. What’s been the weirdest book you’ve enjoyed?   idk, what’s a weird book? Welcome to Night Vale is purposefully weird, if that counts? I’m not sure I’ve read any proper weird books...

4. Pick a random book from your shelf and recommend a film based on that book.  book: Tin Man by Sarah Winman - movie: Third Star (totally different storyline, but similar vibe, maybe?)

5. Top 5 clothing items.  - not really clothing but my riding boots (I love them. They fit me perfectly and weirdly give me so much confidence??)  - my new Pikeur breeches (yup, riding stuff again)  - the black business dress I graduated in (both High School and university)  - my Dirndl (you gotta have one if you’re Austrian :P )  - my (fake) leather jacket because it makes me feel cool  not sure this is an accurate list since I don’t really think about clothes much... 

6. Name the first song that comes to your mind based on your current read. Why that song?  hmm, I’m only 50 pages into my new book, this is very difficult! maybe ‘Battles’ by Hudson Taylor? The lyrics just seem to fit and I have a feeling the book will be harrowing, which the song definitely is. 

7. Would you rather visit the Moon or Mars?  I kind of want to go to Mars and see if Curiosity Rover is alright. 

8. What’s your favourite scent?  top three: freshly cut grass, new tires (I know, this one is weird), and the smell of tress like cedar, fir, and pine 

9. What’s the last thing you ate? Was it good?  kinder Schoko Bons and YES. 

10. Name 3 positive things you’re good at.  don’t do this to me! uhmmmmm reading? singing? maybe cuddling cats? 

11. What’s the strangest word from your first language(s)?  Well, I don’t really know what would be strange to you but I’m really fond of ‘oida’. It’s sort of an exclamation that can be used in a lot of different ways and its meaning depends on how you say it. So it could mean you’re really disappointed, angry, shocked, disbelieving or it could just mean something like ‘dude’. I love it and use it way too often considering it’s sort of lower class slang, I guess. 

aaaand here’s @maddie-mux‘s questions: 

1. First fictional crush?  I’m not entirely sure. Maybe Ziegenpeter from Heidi? :’D 

2. 11 authors (dead or alive) who you would want to spend a night in a haunted house with?  oh no, that’s a) way too many people and b) not something I would ever want to do 

3. Kiss, Marry, Kill - authors  I don’t really feel qualified to answer this. I don’t really get into people as much as I get into their characters and fictional universes. Doing this with real people feels weird, too, because I don’t want to do any of those actions with anyone.... I’m sorry to cop out of yet another of your questions!

4. One author whose books you automatically buy, of no matter what?  either of the Green brothers

5. Favourite fictional place?  maybe Night Vale? But not because I want to live there, just because it’s so wacky. 

6. Kiss, Marry, Kill - characters  this one is easier!  kiss: Poet from Trick (before he is spoken for, of course, I’m not a home-wrecker!)  marry: farmer Oak from Far From the Madding Crowd  kill: there’s so many to choose from! but I really really hate Aaron from The Knife of Never Letting Go!!

7. Favourite place to read?  on the go 

8. 11 characters who you’d take for an eternity on a tropical island?  nope nope nope - there’s nobody I would want to spend eternity with 

9. Hands down, all time favourite book and why?  you should be ashamed of yourself! you know most readers can’t answer this question :P (well, I can’t anyway)

10. Favourite fictional nonhuman animal character?  is it too basic to say Black Beauty? 

11. Fiction or nonfiction?  both! I read more fiction, but I wouldn’t want to live without nonfiction in my life! 

last but not least, @bibliophilecats‘ questions: 

Your favourite word from your first language.  I’m gonna use one of my previous answers for that and say ‘oida’ just because it’s so fun and versatile. Do you know ‘oida’ in your part of Germany? 

And your favourite word in any language.  Not sure I’d pinpoint it as an absolute favorite, but I quite like ‘alas’ because it sort of embodies my view of life, haha 

Name 5 positive things about yourself.  5?? It took me 10 minutes to come up with 3 for one of the questions above! Unbelievable...  - I try my best to keep an open mind  - I try to also get my students to do this  - but I also like to question things  - I’m not blind to my shortcomings  - and I do want to become a better person, though I need to put more effort into it 

And now 3 things you are good at (I kept that one from @books-are-portals list because self-love is important)  I am NOT coming up with more because I am absolutely unable to do so. Sorry! (yes, I have issues, I know)

What’s your “Patronus”-memory, i.e. the happiest moment in your life?  ooooh good one! maybe the day I got my degree and graduated from university. (because leading up to this point my mental health was so bad I wasn’t sure I’d live to see that day...) 

Recommend a book which you think I should read.  maybe ‘Welcome to Night Vale’ or ‘It Devours!’? 

Do you set yourself a reading list or pick books by mood?  both! see above for a more detailed answer

Did you make friends on tumblr that you met (or want to meet) in real life?  I would love to meet quite a few of you! (sadly I haven’t, yet)

Last book you read that was completely outside your normal reading preference. Why did you pick it up and did you like it?  Probably the Kite Runner? I picked it up because sooo many people and many of my friends love it. I, however, did not. 

Favourite christmas book?  I haven’t read many so far, but Dash and Lily’s book of Dares!! 

Favourite christmas movie?  I’ve always loved Miracle on 34th street but I haven’t rewatched it in years so I don’t know if it hold up

#tag thingy #huge 11 questions tag masterpost #haha #thank you for tagging me!!!

[kootenaygoon]

Nobody knows the Kootenays like Greg Nesteroff.

A celebrated historian and journalist, he first made a name for himself as a columnist and reporter for the Nelson Star, eventually moving up to the editor position. He then became news director of Juice FM, a gig he inherited from veteran broadcaster Glenn Hicks.

Last year Nesteroff decided to take some time off to work on two full-length book projects — one will be a collection of his popular Place Names columns, while the other will be a biography of Sandon founder John Morgan Harris. Meanwhile he started a blog: The Kütne Reader.

Kootenay Goon caught up with Greg to chat about the world of blogging, his obsession with the past and the future of journalism.

#1. For many of the posts on Kütne Reader, a historical document or photograph ends up being the jumping off point for a deep dive into the life of some historical character most have never heard of. (I loved your story about "The Midnight Nurse", by the way.) Your investigative skill-set is honestly staggering — I can't believe you successfully dredge up some of the information you do.

It seems to me like this would be a lengthy process, and I'm curious what your strategy is when building these stories. What are your go-to sources? Are you constantly haunting the archives, or looking this stuff up in books, or some combination of both?

Gee, thanks! My hat will no longer fit. 

I had a stockpile of unpublished stories I was able to drawn on initially. I've exhausted most of them, so now I'm putting up new posts at a slightly slower pace. Although I have no shortage of ideas, it takes longer to assemble each post. You're right about a single photograph, document, or artifact inspiring a post. It doesn't take much to get me interested and headed down a proverbial rabbit hole.

Go-to sources: ancestry.com plus the ever-expanding list of digitized newspapers, particularly the early Kootenay papers available through UBC's BC Historical Newspapers site and the ones on newspapers.com. The recent addition to the latter of The Vancouver Sun was particularly exciting. I visit archives and libraries less often than I used to because so much is available online now. But I spent 20 years taking notes from newspapers and local history books (the room where I write is groaning under the weight of those books), so there is lots I can search even on my own computer desktop.  

Even though an amazing number of books have been written about this region (with more added each year) there is no shortage of subjects left unexplored or under-explored. The digitization of newspapers and books is giving us the tools to explore topics and questions in previously impossible ways. It's fun to be part of the first wave of historians to take advantage of this technology. 

Some of my posts are wholly original; you won't find anything about those subjects in any history book. Others are a matter of presenting existing information in a new way. My post entitled "15 curious things about Peter (Lordly) Verigin's death" contained nothing that hadn't already been published, but it was presented in a novel way. Whereas "A phony dentist in the Slocan Valley" recounted the life of a career criminal which had never been presented in full. 

#2. You took 2018 off to focus on writing your books. Now that 2019's staring us in the face, how much progress have you made?

Alarmingly little. I blame the blog. 

I can throw something up in a hurry without worrying too much about being artful and get instant feedback. Whereas the books are long-term projects that require more care and thought and will not bear fruit for a long time. So the quicker, shorter stuff is much more attractive. It gives me a sense of accomplishment and makes me feel productive in spite of the lack of progress on the books.

I will say that I have reorganized my Johnny Harris biography in a way that should make it more compelling. But I haven't added very much. It still sits at about 43,000 words with a huge amount left to do.

The place name series is more a matter of compiling and condensing than writing, since the basis for it has been a series that has appeared in local newspapers for the last six years. But even then, all I've accomplished so far is a sample chapter for letters P and Q.

Fortunately, my literary agent and wife are both prodding me to get going on the books before my nest egg runs out.

#3. Your other big project has been this blog, and you've been churning out content on the regular. How does it feel to switch mediums, to switch from your home in the pages of the Nelson Star and unleash your work online? Obviously there's no word count limits, which is nice, but what else inspired you to make the jump?

It was probably just a procrastination tool. 

It seemed more fun than what I was actually supposed to be doing. I had no goal initially and didn't give a lot of thought to how it would look or what it would contain. I didn't even really envision anyone reading it. (Which is not unusual, since I've written lots of things for my own amusement and never bothered to share them. Some have since been posted on the blog.) 

Now I do pay more attention to what I'm doing and actively try to increase page views, although I view it purely as a game.

#4. In a number of your historical posts you write about about the First Nations residents of the West Kootenay, including the Sinixt and the Ktunaxa. (Cool postcard of those pictographs, by the way.) This is a subject I don't know much about, and surely I'm not the only one. In your research, what have you learned about their history and how do you feel it informs your understanding of First Nations issues today?

I don't pretend to be an expert on local First Nations. But I am very interested in overlooked stories and overlooked people. 

The First Nations of West Kootenay certainly fall in that category. For generations we experienced a sort of collective amnesia, with descendants of European settlers claiming there never were any First Nations people here, or that they were only transient. That attitude started to shift about 30 years ago, and today you will hear aboriginal acknowledgements at the start of city council meetings, but we still have a long way to go in recognizing local indigenous history. 

Other visible minorities have also been given short shrift in local history, including Chinese Canadians and Japanese Canadians. For many years their stories in this area were not well told, but that has changed in the past few decades, thanks to a few key writers and curators. There is still much untapped ground: for instance, no one has ever written in detail about South Asian pioneers of this region, but I would like to. There were many Indo Canadian sawmill workers in our area, and there is even a West Kootenay connection to the Komagata Maru.

#5. I know you have a special relationship with Sandon, the ghost town just outside New Denver. (For those of you who haven't been, it's worth it just to check out the fleet of historic Vancouver buses randomly parked there.) If memory serves, you've been researching the founder — who was apparently quite the character. What is it about Sandon that initially won your attention?

Sandon has held generations of history buffs in thrall, probably because of its setting and the heights it reached before its lengthy descent into a ghost town. I am no exception. I was taken by it during my first childhood trip. Even though it was hardly an attractive place at that time, it still made a deep impression on me. I recall thinking that I'd somehow like to contribute to the study of local history, but assumed everything there was to know had already been discovered. Well ...

I became particularly interested in John Morgan Harris, the subject of the biography I am writing, when looking into myths about Sandon. There was a story he killed someone before coming to the area. I didn't believe it, but it turned out to be true. I spent a few days in the Wallace, Idaho library reading newspapers about that incident and the rest of his exploits there. 

I've also been to his birthplace and grave in Virginia.

#6. You spend a lot of time living in the past, but you also produce stellar journalism about the present day. Is it hard to switch back and forth, and do you think the two pursuits influence and inform each other?

It's not hard to switch. 

But it is nice to bring a historical perspective to a current news story, to tell your reader how typical or atypical an event is, the last time it happened, or just supply some trivia that enlivens your copy. 

In writing history I use the genealogist's toolkit more than the reporter's. The same resources people use to compile family trees I use to pursue obscure historical figures. Most of the time my subjects are long dead, so I'm not able to interview them or anyone who knew them. But I use ancestry.com and the BC archives vital events index nearly every day in addition to the aforementioned digitized newspaper sites. 

Thank goodness for those pioneer papers. Despite their biases and blind spots (those visible minorities mentioned earlier were routinely condemned when they weren't ignored), without them we would have a much poorer understanding of what went on around here.

[terresdebrumestories]

Chapter 11/24: Cell

✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS

FANDOM: Marvel’s MCU SERIES: SEADLA Verse, version 2.0 RATING: Mature WORDCOUNT: 4 626 PAIRING(S): - CHARACTER(S): Tony Stark, Nick Fury, Clint Barton. GENRE: Jail time sucks. TRIGGER WARNING(S): This chapter contains an instance of Tony drinking alcohol against his will, even though physical force is not technically used. Ther are also brief and non-graphic instances of self-harm. (Check the AO3 listing for a glimpse of what’s to come). SUMMARY: In which things suck a lot, but at least it gives Tony time to think.

DEDICATION(S): As always, to the first version’s readers, to the people who leave comments on the fic three years after its last update, and to 2012!me, who needed to write this fic a lot.

SEADLA ON TUMBLR: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10]

Tony’s legs scream with protest when he speeds up, the battery in his arms dragging him down and tearing at the edges of his skin with agonizing slowness. He trips on a swiss knife hidden in the desert sand, and plummets down toward New York.

Tony startles awake with a gasp, wincing when the harsh light of his cell pierces at his eyes. He screws his eyes shut and waits for a few careful seconds before he tries again—the light still sort of stings, but it’s bearable now, and Tony sighs. He scans the glass wall for his guard’s position—she’s about on the opposite side of him—and makes a show of yawning and stretching so he can shove his hands under his pillow in a way that won’t make him look suspicious.

Loki’s knife is still here.

He thought it was a trap, at first. It was in his pocket when he was taken, that’s true, but somewhere between his fight with Steve and the moment he woke up for the second time, Fury’s goons changed him into something achingly similar to hospital scrubs. It took Tony a couple of seconds to notice it when he first woke up, but the panic attack was almost instantaneous. Who knew what else had happened while he slept, right?

The chip turned out to still be in place though, digging against his insides as soon as he got up to pace, which was a relief in more ways than one. First of all: the chip is still there. His most precious possession, and it’s not lost. Second, its presence meant no rectal search, X-rays, or deep searching procedure was used on him. Good news for his body integrity, and an argument about the knife’s presence being a trap, which was useful to cling to when Tony found it under his pillow as he shoved his face in it to hide his relief.

Logically speaking, S.H.I.E.L.D can’t possibly be unaware of its existence. It was right there in his pants pockets. There’s no way nobody noticed it.

Question is: why put it in his cell? Fury has ostensibly taken precautions against suicidal tendencies—irritatingly impractical precautions, but still. Why would he get a knife in Tony’s cell when it runs contrary to his official motives and would lead at least to come silent question in whoever was tasked to put the knife back under Tony’s pillow...unless Fury placed it himself, but that would still be a stupidly risky move.

(The more optimistic part of him keep bumping on the idea that there is a spell on the knife, but Tony’s been listening to his guards talk as they rotate. No sign of Loki anywhere since Tony was put into forced custody. Not exactly reassuring.)

Loki isn’t the only topic of conversation in the prison, though. Hearing the guards talk about the aftereffects of Jarvis’ and other various Stark-owned servers is...well, it’s painful, really, because Jarvis is gone, but it’s also a little vindicative. There’s something satisfying about knowing you’ve made you captor’s life a little more difficult, even if it’s just by forcing them to go back to books instead of the internet for information.

Besides, thinking about Jarvis is painful, but it keeps his mind off the sobriety.

Truthfully, the sobriety itself wouldn’t be a problem, quite the contrary. But between the stress, the lack of sleep, and the general upending of his life, Tony has been itching for a drink for days. What he assumes are days.

It’s not a physical ache—apparently, he’s either slowed the drinking down enough since his suicide attempt to avoid that, or he’s just a lucky bastard in that respect—but it itches and scratches at his brain, like a sick sort of Jimminy Cricket trying to convince him his life would be a lot better with a glass in his hand. Tony knows it’s a lie, of course, but that doesn’t mean he’s not tempted anyway.

He’s kept himself busy so far, alternating between mourning Jarvis and trying to think of an escape plan—anything to either gain contact with the outside world or get himself out—but event that is getting harder as time passes and offers no new solution.

There are at least two security cameras in his cell, on top of the one outside that faces the glass wall. His guards have irregular shift changes—as far as he can judge without real mean of measuring time—and so far there hasn’t been a single repeating face. Tony got hopeful, at first, when it seemed there was a sizable blind spot in the surveillance system above his bed, but knowing Fury the thing might as well be here on purpose to lure him into a false sense of safety.

(The thought rings strangely hollow, like a decayed tooth, but Tony hasn’t been able to put his finger on why yet.)

Even leaving aside the fog of alcohol craving battering at his brain, Tony’s situation would be enough to numb anyone’s mind, and thinking about his allies—or lack thereof—from outside doesn’t help all that much.

Steve has apparently bought Fury’s story in full. Bruce probably hasn’t, but his options are limited at the best of times, and this is definitely not the best time. Clint and Natasha are as much of a mstery as ever, mainly because Tony hasn’t seen or heard from them since this whole ordeal began, and has no way of knowing if it’s because they don’t care or because they decided to make a run for it. If she got his message, Pepper is probably trying to help, if she even can. If she believed him. Hopefully. Rhodey might try and lend a hand but what can he do from his camp? Not much is what. The two of them have moved mountains before, but S.H.I.E.L.D. is kind of a Mount Everest in and of itself, nothing says it’ll let itself be moved.

So all in all, Tony is on his own, whip a plastic box in his ass that’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore, an enchanted swiss knife that has yet to be useful in any way, and the vague hope that one of two Norse gods will not only get his but back to New York but also care enough about him to risk capture and bust him out.

Well, that, and the mother of all alcohol cravings, but he’s trying not to think too hard about that one.

He paces instead, listing the people he can’t count on or hope for help from as he counts how many steps he can take in his cell and tries not to scratch at the itching patch over his arms. The need keeps growing though, presses at his chest and whispering terrible things in his ears. ‘What’s going on outside?’ it asks—Tony comes up with dozens of possible answers, all more terrible than the one that came before, and when he reaches the end of his reasoning, which is that none of this would have happened without him and he should probably refrain from doing anything in the future lest he ruins someone else’s life, the temptation is back.

Just one glass. Just to take the edge off. Just to forget the smear campaign Fury is probably waging against him right this minute.

Damn, he needs to get out of here. He needs to drink something, too, but he needs to get out of here first, and then clear Iron Man’s name. The company has Pepper now, it’ll survive, and so will Howard’s legacy—the parts Tony hasn’t trampled on already, that is. As for his own person, eh. It’s not that important. But Iron Man? It has to come back. It gives hope to too many people—Tony himself included. He can’t let it die like that, not when it is undoubtedly the best thing he’s ever made.

So, he needs to get out of here. That means he needs to focus—he needs a way to shut down the craving, and keep his head as clear as possible. Failing that, he needs to figure out how not to go too crazy until he either gets rescued or finds a way to get out.

Problem is, there doesn’t seem to be one.

{ooo}

He’s just about ready to burst out of his own skin when the realization comes that he’s been sitting on an enchanted knife this whole time—he resists the urge to slap his forehead and draw attention to himself before he leaves the corner of the room he’d settled in and goes back to the bed with a fake yawn.

Slowly, trying his best to look like a man getting ready to sleep, he settles down on his side, with his arms safely tucked into the cameras blind spot. If Fury does know about the knife—there’s no way he doesn’t, but at the same time, if he did, why would the knife even be here?—Tony acting like he thinks he’s got a secret to keep can’t hurt, right? Besides, it would feel weird, doing that in plain view.

He’s not sure he’s supposed to feel that relieved when he cuts the first line into the flesh of his forearm.

{ooo}

The pocket knife lies, forgotten, by their side as Tony feeds Pepper a slice of strawberry. She bites into it and her face starts melting off her bones, and Tony stands there, paralyzed by terror as she reaches for his throat and starts choking him.

Tony wakes up with a start, to a hand pressing at his throat—he throws his fist in the air before he thinks about it in full and hears someone grunt when he makes contact with thin flesh over bones. The hand on his throat leaves, and before Tony manages to wake up in full both of his wrists are tied to the bed, and he ends up staring into Clint’s pinched-neutral face. He bends down next to the bed—Tony contorts to try and see what he’s doing, but he’s bound in a way that makes that impossible—and comes back up with a pitcher full of what is definitely alcohol. The strong kind.

A noise of protest escapes Tony’s throat before he even thinks of making it, and he pulls against his restraints when Clint takes a step closer to the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he says while Tony clenches his teeth together, “but against Loki’s hold it’s this or a blow to the head, and this is less risky.”

Tony doesn’t make the mistake of saying he’d rather take the blow to the head. Either he’d get it, or Clint would use the occasion to shove the alcohol at him, neither of which are things Tony wants. He sinks into the bed, pushes himself deeper into the mattress, and tries to muster anger when Clint’s features shift to sympathy over him—but it doesn’t come, kept at bay by the sick burn of terror at the pit of Tony’s stomach, and the damn manacles that won’t give even an inch—

“It’ll hurt less if you just take it,” Clint says, resigned. Then, when Tony doesn’t manage a sarcastic quip, he sighs and says: “Stark. I don’t wanna make this any shittier for you than it already is.”

Tony sags back against the bed almost against his will, the fight evaporating out of him faster than he’d have thought possible. He doesn’t cooperate exactly—leaves Clint with the task of raising his head to the brim of the pitcher—but he doesn’t struggle either, and opens his mouth with the liquid—vodka, it soon appears—touches his lips. What’s the point in struggling, anyway? Like Clint said, it’s not like it’ll change much to the end result.

It does come as a surprise when Clint angles away from the surveillance cameras and whisper-grunts:

“We got new weapons today. Shiny, Hydra-issued relics for everyone.”

In his surprise, Tony swallows wrong and starts coughing on the vodka—Clint upend the last quarter of the pitcher on the pillow as he straightens up, gives Tony impressively terse well wishes, and takes the manacles out in practiced gestures before he exits the room.

Tony, who knows better than try and move fast after drinking that much in one go, thinks he hears Clint say something about truth and mashed potatoes before the shocked buzzing in his ears overpowers the rest of the world.

{ooo}

When Tony wakes up, dried drool pulls at his cheek, and a part of him is grimly amused to realize his hangover doesn’t seem to be that bad yet. Might grow worse fast, but he’s still a lot more functional than he expected himself to be, even as his skull makes a decent impression of being an echo chamber for a drill concerto in hammer minor. He turns to his side and lets his head hang over the side of the bed for a while anyway, just in case he needs to evacuate something fast. Then, when it seems like he’s not going to vomit just yet—a little surprising, but not unwelcome—Tony opens his eyes.

He’s not coherent enough to think yet—his mind stays focused on the terrible taste in his mouth, an eerily vampire-like distaste for light and ow. Mostly the ow part. Through it all, though, something stirs in his memory when he finally understands that the mushy thing on a tray under his nose are mashed potatoes. There was something about mashed potatoes—Clint said—he said—damn it. It’s right there, right at the tip of Tony’s tongue—or his thoughts, whichever—but he can’t seem to grasp it, like he’s a cat running after a laser, and someone’s keeping the red dot just out of his reach...he’s going to have to clear his mind if he wants to do anything productive. With a grunt, Tony rolls back onto the bed and, tucking his hands under the pillow, he fumbles with the knife until he can open the blade and run the tip of his fingers over the metal.

The pain probably shouldn’t feel like this. It doesn’t just cut—ha—through the fog in his mind it also makes things less...intense, somehow. Like Tony was about to explode with too much to think about, too much to feel about, and the cuts are letting some of it out and allowing him to go back to regularly scheduled existence. It’s odd and unfamiliar and a small, worried part of him wonders if he’ll keep doing this, later. If he’ll have to explain odd scars and habits, if he’ll lose people over it.

Most of him feels relieved.

Pressing his fingers against the pillow to stop the worst of the bleeding—he really should have picked a better place to cut—Tony tries to remember what Clint said about the potatoes exactly. The words are a blur—will probably pop back into existence way too late to be useful, if Tony’s current luck is anything to go by—but the urgency and stress in the words is easy to remember. Whatever it was, Clint wanted Tony to remember it.

Problem is, Clint is still a spy. Even waddling through a hangover—the only thing keeping his craving at bay—Tony still realizes the man is paid to double cross people on a regular basis. Who’s to say that’s not what he was doing...whenever the vodka episode was? Sure, he also mentioned Nazi superweapons coming out of storage when they were supposed to be destroyed. That’s probably not something Fury would want Tony to know. None of that means Clint isn’t trying to lure Tony into a trap.

Let’s assume, Tony tells himself, that Clint was telling the truth. The assumption is probably going to come back and bite him in the ass but, well. He has to believe some things can turn out well, doesn’t he? Yeah, he does. Anyway.

If Clint was telling the truth—if Fury really was stupid enough to outfit his organization with Hydra’s old weapons in the middle of a trust crisis—it lends credence to the possibility of someone using Tony to frame Loki. This is, after all, a blatantly stupid move, certain to raise at least some questions, right? And Fury doesn’t usually do that, even when extremely pressed. Combine that with the apparent weak spot in the surveillance—Tony could have missed a camera, somewhere, that’s true. Even so, the idea of a blonds spot in the videos, even a fake one, doesn’t sound quite right. Not when you add the non-discovery of his chip on top of it, not when he’s been hiding a knife and bloody scars from S.H.I.E.L.D. like they’re regular people and not highly trained super spies.

So, Fury might actually be manipulated, probably to get at Loki.

Question is, who on Earth would be crazy and smart enough to do that?

Tony grunts, pressing his fingertips harder against the pillow, increasing the pain to keep his mind out of the fog and off the strengthening need for another drink. If he stops thinking now, he’s never going to get to the end of that reasoning, and that is not something he can afford. So, theoretical framework: Fury is being manipulated by someone who has the smarts to trump him and the resources to silence embarrassing questions inside S.H.I.E.L.D. That someone, for some reason, is trying to make Loki sound even worse—but somehow, dumber—than he really is. This can give way to at least three different interpretations.

One, Loki knows what’s happening, and he doesn’t care enough about Tony to help him. Sure, Coyote and Anansi sounded like rather close friends—the kind you introduce people who count to—but then again Loki has been entirely unheard of since the beginning of this clusterfuck. Including after fairly extensive use of a knife that’s supposed to alert him if Tony hurts himself. Emotionally speaking, Tony is already about three quarters of the way in believing that one entirely, but he still needs to consider the other two, just to be sure.

The second option is that Loki knows what’s happening, but he’s bidding his time before he intervenes, for reasons Tony doesn’t have the energy to guess at. The thought of being worth planning and waiting for is...well, it’s not unpleasant. However, that implies whoever is behind this is impressive enough to make Loki cautious, and that, on the other hand, is not pleasant at all.

Third—and last that Tony can think of—Loki doesn’t know what’s going on. Depending on when he slipped off the surface of the Earth, he might not have heard about this. Plus, since Thor is also MIA, there’s always the possibility that they’re locked in some kind of intergalactic siblings war somewhere and forgot anything exists outside of it. Tony thinks he knows both of the gods well enough, by now, to asses that as a perfectly valid theory.

Common point between all these theories: there’s nothing to expect from Loki’s side. Not for a while, at least. Meaning Tony’s escape plans are back to square one: hope Pepper—and maybe Rhodey, and maybe Clint—figures out a way to help him.

In the meantime...oh, who’s he kidding? It’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t end up begging for a drink before the end of the day. If it’s even day time—honestly, he has no idea. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can call—nothing but think back on easier times and hope things will go for the best.

In the midst of wishing for a drink he knows he can’t afford to ask for, Tony suddenly find himself wishing for Lorna.

She might have been a lie. There is, after all, a small possibility that Fury is in the right, and Tony is just imagining the conspiracy theory to escape a painful truth. If he believes that, however—if he does anything more drastic than pretending Lorna wasn’t Loki at all—there’s nothing left for him. If he assumes Lorna was a lie, his main support becomes nothing more than a shadow.

If he believes that, there’s really not much point in fighting anything at all anymore, really.

{ooo}

The strings around Fury’s wrists and ankles are hard to see—they’re almost translucent, only shining when the light hits them right. The blue silhouette though—the one that pulls the strings—is easy to see, and Tony flees from it with supernatural speed. The swiss knife lies in the grass when he rounds a corner, and Tony dives for it.

Ice water to the face never becomes less of a horrible way to wake up, and tony doesn’t hold back his spluttering, let alone his curses as he tries to shake some of it off his head. His brain bangs around the sides of his skull as a result, and Tony has to stop or get sick right here and now.

Nick Fury, sitting at the foot of the bed, doesn’t move during any of this. In fact, once tony gathers enough wits to properly look at him, he looks no different from the man who tried to recruit Iron Man in a donut hole. Behind him a stranger—short, stocky, Greek or Italian-looking, with a caducei hanging from his left ear and wiry muscles clearly visible under his long-sleeved shirt—is trying very hard to be unnoticeable. He’s kind of failing, but that might be because Tony is developing a new helping of healthy paranoia.

“We’re still without news from Thor,” Fury says before Tony can ask about the newcomer.

A wince, and then Tony reaches for the familiar mask of self-assured unconcern he’s used most of his life and says:

“Sorry, haven’t managed to check my texts lately.”

Fury’s irritated silence gives Tony an excuse to shift in place and land on his pillow, cutely aware of how Loki’s knife and his own chip dig into his flesh with painful angles. At least that way, there’s no risk anything is going to slip out of its hiding place at the worst possible moment.

“We need to locate him, Stark,” Fury explains after a long, searching look at Tony’s face, “if you’re compromised, Thor might be as well. We need to make sure he’s still safe.”

Tony barely holds his snort in at that, but something of it must show on his face, because Fury frowns. That should be worrying, maybe, but the last vestiges of Tony’s hangover must have vanished during his surprise nap because the only thing he can bring himself to care about at this point is the overwhelming urge to drink, and the absolute certitude that he can not ask for any alcohol right now.

He stays silent for a long moment—both Fury and his brand new shadow wait him out, but after a handful of seconds have gone by, Fury’s eyes dart to the tray of mashed potatoes by Tony’s bed. The untouched tray. And just like that, Tony remembers what Clint said.

There’s truth serum in the potatoes.

Had Tony known that, he’d have at least tried to fake eating some of it. It might have been enough to keep Fury off his case for a while. As it is, he can’t do much except hope his sudden realization didn’t show, and Fury will think not eating anything was an accident.

“Look,” Tony says after a while, mostly so he can appear a little more cooperative, “I have no idea where either of them is. Even if I did, I’m not sure it’d have helped.”

Fury doesn’t look at the potatoes again—too much of a professional for a second slip up. Usually, too much of a pro for the first one, but the more Tony thinks about this, the more convinced he is that Fury isn’t quite in his right mind. Nevertheless, the more he can keep to himself, the better. He’ll have time to figure things out later.

“Do you have any way to contact them?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” Tony answers without missing a beat.

“And neither of them contacted you?”

“No.”

Both of Tony’s visitors frown at that, and he has to refrain from smirking at the sight. They were probably hoping for something more useful—or for Tony to sound a little more dejected, maybe? But Tony doesn’t have any useful answer to that question, even if he wanted to help them. Not that he wants to—he would love to be lying through his teeth right now.

Unfortunately, he’s pretty sure he’s been here at least three days by now, and Loki has yet to be heard from.

“For your sake,” Fury says, sounding irritatingly—and worryingly—sincere, “I hope we find them soon. I’m starting to think this might be the only way to get Loki out of your head.”

Tony tries not to gape as he watches the two men rise and walk out of the cell.

He’s been talking with Fury for a while now, long enough that he’s seen the man express a fairly varied range of emotions—irritation, exasperation, fatigue, anger, and the occasional bout of disbelief at Tony’s more childish behaviors. Up until now, concern has never been one of them.

It’s not just concern, either—there was an undertone of determination there, not unlike the way Steve sounds when he starts on yet another crazy mission to do The Right Thing no matter the cost. What the blatant slip in control means exactly is difficult to parse—it would probably require a more personal knowledge of Fury—but Tony is fairly sure it doesn’t herald anything good for him.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Tony lies back down on the bed, hands behind his head, and closes his eyes. He replays the conversation in his head over and over again, gives himself another dozen play-by-plays of his reasoning, tries even the silliest theory he can come up with, but none of it seems to make any kind of sense, even a strange one and, after what feels like a few hours of useless questioning, Tony decides to let go of his dignity.

I don’t know if it’s gonna work, but Loki if you could lend a hand here—

“Well,” Loki says in an openly exasperated tone, “it took you long enough.”

#MCU fic #Tony Stark #Loki #clint barton #Nick Fury #SEADLA #fanfiction

[deadlyeggs]

A Strange Town

This is a crossover fanfiction of King Falls AM (Credit goes to: Kyle Brown & Eric Kimelton) and Welcome To Night Vale (Credit goes to: Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor. ) Please check out the podcasts, if you haven’t already.

When an odd, cloudless storm hits both both towns, something happens to cause a connection between radio broadcasts.

Chapter 1 (Edited)

Ben finished whipping down the phones something that had become part of the routine before he and Sammy started the show. Since Chet had the slot right before theirs he didn’t want to even think about the gross and creepy things he had done with them, and most likely was still doing with them. He shuttered at the imagine, and tried to block out everything else he might have done in there just moments before him and Sammy were supposed to go on the air.

“All clean?” Sammy asked as he sat at his desk, a warm cup of coffee in his hand.

“Probably not” Ben replied, crumpling up the disinfectant rag and dropping it in the trash “I don’t think this will ever be clean enough, even if you poured bleach everywhere. These walls know things nobody should know. And god knows what he’s done elsewhere in here!” He gestured to the mug in Sammys hand.

“Okay” Sammy said slowly lowering the mug away from his mouth “I’m bringing my own mug from now on. To and from work.” He gave his friend a look of displeasure, watching him sit down. With a nod to each other they started the show. 

“Hello King Falls, thank you for tuning in. I am Sammy Stevens, and with my is my best friend, and co-host Ben Arnold.” Sammy greeted the listening audience “as I’m sure most of you know, we are due for one hell of a storm.  Be sure to stay safe, and away from windows. Keep tuned in to 660 on the radio dial.”

“And please” Ben chimed in “stay indoors. I know this goes without saying, for most people anyway, but no matter what your reasoning is once this bad boy starts, you do not want to get caught in it.”

“Yes, that too” Sammy agreed “I just hope it doesn't hit before we are done for the night. I do not want to be trapped here when it hits. If it hits.”

“What do you mean IF it hits, Sammy” Ben said “its bound to happen, everything points to it. Not to mention, I got a sever weather alert on my phone.”

Sammy sighed “you know how wrong that can be sometimes” he said.

“Yes, but, usually when there is a red screen staring you in the face, that means something is coming.”

“I never said it wasn’t coming. I know its fairly likely that it will, I’m just saying that there is a possibility that it might not. You can never really know what mother nature is going to pull. That being said...”

There was a loud rumbling sound in the distance. A soft trickle of rain began to fall, that soon became heavier and heavier. While the two hosts sat in the studio rain fell from the stars. Not a cloud in the sky, and yet it still poured. Neither of them aware.

“That being said” Sammy continued over the sound of the rain “it’s always better safe than sorry.”

 “So King Falls, how are you preparing for the storm, while Sammy and I are stuck all the way out here. Give us a call 424-279-3858.”

A bright flash of light filled the room, and in sync with the thunder both Sammy and Ben took off their head set and looked at each other.

“Did you hear that sizzling sound” Ben asked.

“I hope nothing was knocked out. Can you still hear us King Falls?”

Far off from King Falls, another radio host sat in his studio ad thunder roared over head of him. Rain splattered down onto the dry desert landscape as people looked out their windows, and up the the cloudless sky.

“Now this is where it gets really interesting” Cecil rambled on “when you rub the balloon against your body it starts to scream in terror. It doesn’t know what you are doing, or why you are doing it. Why would you do that to a poor innocent balloon in the first place, what did they ever do to you? Even if you did tell it your plans, it wouldn't understand. You’re just being mean. Stop it.  This concludes out children's fun-fact science corner.”

Cecil looked to the intern who walked into the room handing him a piece of paper “oh, thank you Heather” he said polity. He looked over the page “well listeners” he began “it appears that our newest intern Heather has handed me an important announcement. At least I can assume it’s important, it has large red letters I M P O R T A N T, and a little stick person frowning as its struck by lightning. That’s adorable, you can really see the pain, fear, and shock on his face. Did you draw that Heather? She’s shaking her head at me, and pointing to the page. Alright. Although the sky is clear, it appears to be raining and pretty hard. You are all asked to stay inside during this time.”

Within seconds he passed if off like it was nothing “so anyways. Carlos and I are trying to decide on a new way to rearrange our appartment. We keep going back and forth, and where our coffee table should be, or where to keep the collection of blood stones I have from my childhood, It’s just a mess, let me tell you. He wants to put his white board full of numbers he keeps changing in the kitchen. I say that will totally throw off everything, but he does have a point when he says it matches the refrigerate both of them have that off white color to them.” 

A loud crack of thunder roared through town, and almost instantly there was a sizzling sound coming from his headset.

“Hello” he asked slowly “can you still hear me out there, I’m having some technical difficulties.”

“Hello Ben asked slowly “who is this, and how did you get into our signal. Did you hack us or something? You picked a pretty shitty night to do it.”

“Hack you” Cecil repeated “no, I don’t think I even know how. “

“Oh yeah” Ben scoffed “because its so hard to hack radio signals, as if it hasn't been done before. Look man, if you’re going to say some weird shit, freak out some people hurry up and get it over with.” 

“I’m- I just report the news” Cecil explained “news, community calendar, daily events. You know, like the slowly approaching void, that will one day consume us all in never ending darkness. They say you never know when it’s going to happen but when it happens you bet I’ll be here.”

“Uh. What. What kind of news is that?”

“Didn’t you have a void scare a few days ago?”

“No.Because chances are it’s not going to happen and if it does it wont be in our life time.!”

Sammy spoke up “technically speaking, we are already in a void. Just on a rock, floating through the void of space.”

“That’s dark Sammy” Ben said looking at his friend “also don't let this strange guy get to you man.“

“I’m not, I’m just saying he is technically right, we are in a void. Just probably not the one he’s talking about. Right... uh.. “ Sammy paused. He didn’t know this guys name. “Do you mind telling us your name stranger?”

“I’m Cecil” he said “and trust my, I’m married to a scientist, I know there is a void coming, he wouldn't not tell me this stuff.”

“Hi Cecil. I’m Sammy, my friend, and co-host Ben can be very opinionated at times” Sammy said.

“Opinionated, ans stating facts are two different things Sammy! Fact: We don’t have to worry about being consumed by the void at any moment, fact if we were , we would not have any warning. Just poof we’re gone.” Ben looked at Sammy, and let out a long sigh. “So how did you get into out signal?”

“I’m not sure” Cecil said “I’m as surprised as you are.”

“Well, maybe we can work this out” Sammy suggested “there has to be a reasonable explanation.”

“Oh you mean like hacking us” Ben remarked.

“Who would hack a radio station on a mountain” Sammy asked.

“Oh I don’t know” Ben began “I can list a few people off the top of my head, and a few reasons.”

“Does he sound like any one we know, Ben?”

“Wait” Cecil interrupted “wait, did you say mountain? Mountains don’t exist. It is illegal to even mention them. You had better be careful.”

“Mountains don’t- what do you mean they don’t exist” Ben said, raising his voice slightly “we- but. What about these facts now Sammy.”

Sammy looked surprised “Well, I mean. You’re joking right?”

“The existence of illegal things is nothing to joke about” Cecil said “you’d have to go get re-education, not to mention everything else. It is not a fun time.”

Ben paused, looking at Sammy before he started speaking again “right... Where are you from?”

“I am from Night Vale. You? You can’t be from Desert Bluffs.”

“No, no” Ben said “we are from King Falls. I’ve never heard of either of those places you listed.”

“Well I haven't heard of yours either.“

“Good. So we are on the same page there, neither of us have heard of the place the other lives.Supposedly.”

Another thunderous roar cracked over head, echoing on either side.

“Okay, that was weird” Ben said.

#King Falls AM #Welcome To Night Vale #I didnt plan to go this far #I just kept typing #oops #fanfiction

[xottzot]

2017-3(MAR)-28-Tuesday.

2017-3(MAR)-28-Tuesday.

Around 11am, there was an exodus from the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. Adults and school-aged children that did not go to school and NEVER go to school. (the school is only across the road from them)

They came out and spread about the area (but not the school of course).

Sometime later, I saw them again in the streets. Some were coming back from the shops area, some wandering back from elsewhere.

A Watcher was walking about and saw some themselves. The Watcher paused, for there was very loud shoutings by school-age aboriginals in the smashed fence property of the corner house. They were yelling and carrying on. The Watcher heard all that and of course simply walked on.

It's clearly apparent that aboriginals around here do NOT have to go to school. They are allowed to wander all about at will and maraud. And when they get older and into adulthood, they do the same wanderings and sniffing about to cause crime as adults no matter how severe. (unless it makes it into the public news which only then is something seen to be done to counter the bad news itself, not reality itself.)

Of all those wandering about was of course was one last one of them from the house next to the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD.

But you can never tell because nobody actually lives where they are supposed to live. They just go wandering in and out of each others houses that they rent, and the tradition applies into anyones prorerty they feel like going into.

About 11:17am, a school-aged aboriginal literally ran down the road and ran off away from the local school-direction.

Maybe the sight of the Watcher walking about spooked the shit and he's off to get as far away from the local school direction as possible. (when he gets a litle older, he will do the same with Police for the rest fo his life.)

And the plagues of not ever going to school has now infected the corner house kids who do not go to school. Instead they do the same thing their 'friends' do.....and that also includes hiding out in the house with it's trees and bushes covering the visible yard whilst they are carrying on. Nirvana to them.

A massive amount of public money was spent 'modernising' the local school to cater to all students. There's been efforts to have that acknowldgement made public by the school itself and a politician who had also in addition arranged/financed the work. But it's a toxic topic because of all the aboriginals all about this area who have kids who never ever go to school and are a hidden population that roam around and do as they wish during the day. They're seen in public, but they can also be brazen and evermore so, but nothing happens. Do NOT believe anything you read or hear about how 'good' this area is. The aboriginals and criminals of them them all bring it all down.

If you have children here, then around here you just don't take them to school or let them go to school. School is for the weak who are preyed upon by these others.

I wonder how long before they bring in segregated schools by them for them? - Oh, they already have in other parts of Australia, and the aboriginals loudly say its the way of the future and they love it. - Pity that they are criminal and have a further life of criminality ahead of them and they live with criminals all about them in their 'own' homes.

There was some junk mail in the letterboxes today.......

Here is what it had for this area:---

number of homes sold in the past 12 months= 12 (that was the LOWEST figure of around 15 suburbs and surrounding ones all about.)

Median Price (year to December 2016) = $318,000 (thats houses andor lands sold)

Percent Change (December Quarter) = -0.6% (that's minus zero point six percent)

Percent Change 1 Year = -10.4 (that's minus ten point four percent)

Media House Rental = $300

So there you have that little snapshot of this hellhole. It has the lowest rental price simply because nobody wants to live in this hellhole with wandering criminals all about, who are untouchable and which you can't complain to the Police about because then the Police will try to blame YOU somehow for being a victim of crime and saying anything about it. - And it's also because owners of houses have been forced out by all the crime and are desperately trying to keep house playments up by renting places to anyone, including renting to the criminals who drove them out of living in their homes in the first place. (the amount of 4-sale signs you can see when travelling about this hellhole area is indeed very numerous and tragic. Nobody wants to live here anymore. It is a place where it is dying and being killed. Real Estate shits see that as an opportunity......

In Midland the 'median' price for rental is 308, (just $8 more than here), and I know for a fact that aboriginal crime has really exploded all over there as well.

The number of places sold in this hellhole area is also the lowest of the list of the 15 suburbs. (the highest was in nearby Midland itself 3kms away)

This hellhole area itself is the lowest of them all in the list for the amount dollarwise they are asking for properties. That's because nobody wants to buy-into an area that is known for crime, despite it having everything a normal (law abiding) population would want, ie. a local primamry school for kids......and of course the criminals (only to satisfy departmental) are likely to send a tiny proportion of the ones they have to go there. The rest wander the streets.....on foot, on bicycles, on childs toys, then progress onto motorbikes, then progress into cars.....being evermore criminal all the way as they go......

For the past few hours I've been hearing a lot of smashing sounds coming out of the corner household that has become wholly aboriginal in living (eg. kids dont't go to school and abos wander in and out of that place even yesterday) and at will sometimes in numbers. - I know for a fact that the young woman owner of the place would be absolutely horrified at how they are destroying her place that she herself lived in before and kept so lovely to live in and look at before she had to quickly move away and take up residence at her mothers property elsewhere after her death. - So in effect, she was able to get out of this hellhole area and she is just as intelligent, polite and open-minded as before, but if she had been constrained to living here......she too would have been suffering all the aboriginals.....and crime......she must be truly shocked at how her property has been so smashed and destroyed by aboriginals. I dare not even consider what other parts they have destroyed andor defiled within the inside of the dwellings.)

There has been a neighbors dog intruder-barking a lot, and what was happening was there were aboriginals about on the streets. One male kid was riding a pushbike that has NO TYRE on the rear wheel. It was being ridden on a metal rim instead and making a lot of noise doing so as it crunched and made noise along the road. Do NOT worry about it being dangerous or anything, they simply do NOT care. IN any event, they will steal or have bought for them a replacement because outside money and resources are never ever a problem for them. What they don't have given to them, they steal. -- All this was going on the same time last year. The SAME things and more.

That is something else that people think....that the so-called aboriginal underprivileged around here have no money. Wrong. They have plenty of money to get cigarettes, and get endless bottles of alcohol, and have endless cars, and vehicles (that are soon smashed), they don't even have to worry about paying any rent because that got paid for them by 'anonymous'......and once rent was out of the way that meant more available money for their necessities of life such as drugs and alcohol and cigarettes and petrol. Their criminal offspring are purely an annoying nuisance to them to have about and in any case, others such as departments and so on take care of them so they don't have to bother, not even to make sure they go to school, or eat, or wash...they figure that it can be done by by going to the uncountable associated aboriginal houses....and failing that they can just break in to any innocent citizens household and do whatever the hell they want. --- It is real here. It is reality.

And the aboriginals just love jumping onto any civic band wagons to loot whatever they can out of it and bring it financially down to crashing, whilst simultaneously proclaiming being so needy as they drive and tear around in big new vehicles whilst honest people try to get by with what they can.

Western Australia has the highest aboriginal crime rate in Australia. And guess where all the well-off people live who make all the laws.....they live on the other side of Australia and they are in a wealthy closeted world of their own and don't have to put up with what happens here on a daily and nightly basis. And if it IS brought up, they then blame all the departments and so on here in a never-ending blame of crap and self-infulgence. -- Amazing how they shuffle data about to make things look good for them, whilst at the same time denigrating others, or not even bothering to state that anything even exists that needs adressing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

P@15:06---In truly great pain. - Last night I had to get up out of bed and was literally SCREAMING in pain and falling about in great pain. Poor dear Sam & Max didn't know what was going on. They didn't bark and were very scared, especially Max. Today Sam keeps scuttling off like a poodle because he thinks I'm about to crash down and fall upon him like last night when I was in so much pain.

[ethelbertpaul444-blog]

Shenmue 1 & 2 review: a strong port and the best way to play these flawed yet brilliant classics

Historic and classic, Shenmue and its sequel deserve a classic re-release. Musicians should know they’re in for the purposes of an uneven, sometimes archaic seem go, though. Shenmue is a legendary serial for a lot of reasons, but mainly it’s to do with costs and scale. There’s no two ways about it: Shenmue is one of the most important plays ever built, though in a way that’s as much down to where it was unsuccessful as much as where it excels. You learn, Shenmue is the sort of mad, one-man vision that is seldom attained these days, and practically never for a budget as comparatively big as Shenmue’s, which had an spending that interrupted records at the time of its liberate back in 1999. Its unfortunate fate is intrinsically intertwined with the ill health of the Dreamcast and Sega, too, and that’s part of the decision making process that led to another aspect of its status as legend: it’s an unfinished narrative, a tome that feels scarcely complete. Now that fan necessitate has been possible to stir Shenmue 3 a reality, albeit with a different publisher and under a vastly reduced fund, Sega is eventually seen fit to revisit the original titles that got this lengthy expedition started. This is great news for the cause of video game preservation. If nothing else: Shenmue is a landmark name, and it deserves to have a higher excellence, most reliable technique of playing other than digging out an original Dreamcast or taking your chances on bumpy performance with emulation. Sega are being very careful not to call this release of the two games that make up the Shenmue series so far Shenmue Remastered or even Shenmue HD. When I casually refer to the releases as’ Shenmue HD’ in an email, a Sega representative is quick to remedy me: this isn’t Shenmue HD, it’s just Shenmue and its sequel in one pack. It’s a re-release , not a remaster. Fair enough. One has to say that if Sega wanted to call this a HD Remaster they could very well get away with it. Sure, the textures are the same excellence and the minor tweaks offered in the different new self-control modes for video games don’t do much to stop it from often feeling like a frustrate, plodding nightmare, but this is still easily the definitive version of Shenmue, running in widescreen( in play, anyway- story strings persist 4:3) and at a locked, solid 30 frames per second where the Dreamcast and original Xbox versions would dip down to the low-toned teens. It’s good stuff, a sort of belt-and-braces approaching to porting an age-old play. I actually actually appreciate it in such cases. Yeah, Shenmue has a lot of textures that gaze grainy as inferno when video games is moving at 2160 p or 1080 p, but it doesn’t really matter. By retaining the textures and simply running the game at a higher solving and frame rate, the original intent and feel is retained- something that isn’t always true-blue in more hands-on remasters. The only regions changed are those subject to licensing deals, such as Timex and Coca Cola, or small-time quality of life of canadians improvements like the ability to save anywhere. The first title’s field leap aspect is turned on by default, too- streamlining things and reducing the amount of aimless walking around, but also riskily upping opportunities of musicians to miss several one-time events. Generally, nonetheless, this is a faithful and respectful version of the original games. The approach of retaining the spirit of the original also accentuates the main thing players should be aware of going to get Shenmue: this is the same game. It’s an old game, and a game that at the time was highly experimental. It’s obtuse, sometimes frustrating and downright brilliant. Ingredients of its intend, such as a real-time open-ended world where personas have their own daily routines, were revolutionary and pointed towards the future of many other games. In other areas- such as powers and localization- both Shenmue games now very much feel their age. Players who have been spoiled on games like Yakuza while also hearing it called the spiritual successor to Shenmue will be surprised if they go in expecting something similar. These plays are more of an adventure play in style, all about interrogating friendly people out on the street to gather intelligence on where you need to go next. When that detective work is broken up with opposing it’s either in a highly controlled quick time occurrence or in a more methodical, slower-paced encounter descended from Virtua Fighter rather than the bare-knuckle brawling of something like Yakuza. In fact, despite the superficial similarities that drive people to compare them, Shenmue is nothing like Yakuza. Shenmue has a very specific feel that requires very concrete tastes to genuinely enjoy, but if it clicks for you it’ll become a truly special time in your gaming history. Ultimately it’s all about that pacing and atmosphere. Constituent of what shaped Shenmue so brilliant back at the turn of the millennium was how successful it was as a persona playing game. I say that not in the feeling of stats and leveling up but rather in how successful both plays are at shaping you truly represent Ryo Hazuki. There’s a glorious sense of the mundane to how the Shenmue plays approach their worlds. You can take out time to hit up the arcade, gamble, project part-time jobs or practice your martial art, and all are treated with a methodical, cool restraint that in a sense echoes the calm martial artists of still mind and spirit that Ryo aspires to eventually be like. This is all part of why the Shenmue games allow themselves to be so obtuse. Duty of it is also simply down to a lack of understood it this sort of world intend back in’ 99, but this is a series that likewise wants you to get stuck on occasion. When you make a brick wall, that’s the perfect time to blow off some steam in teach or at the arcade, or simply by exploring countries around the world around you, which gradually becomes more familiar as a residence city does. Shenmue 2 turns some of this feeling on its psyche to great impression, too, repeatedly displacing you as soon as Ryo begins to get his bearings, in turn successfully capturing the chaos, excite and fear that comes with backpacking alone in a strange place. These are the same games. They feature the same frustrations and foibles as they did back on original freeing, and in the highly refined, most competent epoch of 2018 some of the problems are more pronounced. But like an aging car that needs the key turned at only the right hasten or the clutch popped in simply the right way to get onto to start, both Shenmue games are also all the more lovable because of their uneven texture and strange ardour for the mundane. Nobody said classics had to be perfect. Shenmue as a series is not, at the least so far. A flawed masterpiece is a masterpiece nonetheless, and perhaps the most important reason that modern, quality ports of Shenmue subsist is that there truly is nothing else quite like it. It deserves to be experienced. The post Shenmue 1& 2 review: a strong port and the best route to play these flawed yet brilliant classics appeared first on VG2 47. Read more: vg247.com http://dailybuzznetwork.com/index.php/2018/08/25/shenmue-1-2-review-a-strong-port-and-the-best-way-to-play-these-flawed-yet-brilliant-classics/

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.67

“Einstein on the Beach”

A/N: This takes place after episode 7, "Magic to Make the Sanest Man Go Mad," and is a little heavy on the OCs, sorry if that's not your preference. There's a bit of fluff (and a joke I've been waiting 240,000 words to make which is so delightfully awful), but also some final set up for the end that's coming. There is one person out there who likes Groves best out of everyone, so I dedicate the Groves content to that person (you know who you are).

Also, did anyone catch the big clue in time loop? Can you see someone's secret yet? There was one line in there that revealed something big, but then it was undone by the temporal reset... I spend a lot of time wondering if anyone sees where this is going. There are so many dominoes lined up, I'm really looking forward to tipping them over.

Lastly, sorry for the delay in posting, internet connection issues!

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << Part 66 - Past and Present Tense Part 68 - To Fill Up My Hand >>

"Actually, you were the one most likely to believe me. That was the weird thing."

"Oh?"

Lorca and Stamets were in the ready room going over the events of Mudd's time loop. Of all the crew, only Stamets had any understanding of the full breadth of the encounter because only he was aware of all the loops in the way Mudd was.

"Hugh thought I was having some sort of break from reality, Burnham needed so much convincing, Tyler never believed me unless I had Burnham tell him... But with you, I repeated your words once, just the once, and you were on board with it."

"That surprises you?" Lorca took a fortune cookie and pushed the bowl towards Stamets. The fortune read, Good news will come to you from far away.

"Well, yes," said Stamets, taking a cookie as well. "It's no secret you hate me." His fortune was, Generosity and perfection are your everlasting goals.

Lorca's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I don't hate you."

Stamets squinted at the captain. "You don't?"

Lorca shrugged lightly. "Sometimes you need a little extra push to get us where we're going."

"A push," echoed Stamets, squinting all the more. "More like a push down the stairs."

Lorca snorted with amusement. "Sometimes that's the fastest way to get down them."

Stamets mouth fell open and he stared in silent amazement. Delight spread across his face. "My god, you don't hate me, do you? You like me."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"I mean, a few times Mudd tried to get you off the bridge by pretending there was a medical emergency. You didn't go when he said it was Mischkelovitz, or Egarova, but when he said it was me, you went immediately. I thought it was just because you were worried about the drive, but there's more to it, isn't there? You actually like me!"

Stamets had learned a lot in his many loops through time. Maybe too much. Lorca did his best to remain impassive. "I don't hate you, which is a far cry from liking you, lieutenant."

"But that's just it. I can see everything so clearly now! You really enjoy pushing my buttons, don't you?" Lorca glowered. Stamets grinned. "Captain, that's as sweet as it is disturbing!"

"Mr. Stamets," Lorca growled.

"Okay, captain, I hear you," said Stamets, holding his hands up in surrender and grinning. "You can push me around all you like, I won't push back."

Lorca tried not to smile and failed miserably, ending up with an awkward and entirely unconvincing almost-frown, because frankly, that was the best invitation he'd gotten all week. He managed to turn his expression into a sneer as he said with all the acid he could muster, "If we can stay on task, lieutenant."

Stamets was not fooled in the slightest because he really did see everything now. Ever since his integration with the mycelial network, it felt like all of spacetime was laid out before him and he could access any and all of it. The network went everywhere, and he was part the network. "You want to hear a few of Mudd's one-liners?" he offered. "I mean, they were all at your expense, but they're pretty funny!"

"Fine," said Lorca, certain he was going to hate this.

"So, this one time, you asked him what the hell he was doing on the ship, and he said, 'Whatever I want!' and then he shot you."

Stamets had never heard Lorca genuinely laugh before. It was, Stamets concluded, pretty awesome.

When he was done with Stamets, Lorca received a holocomm request from Lalana. He locked the ready room door. "Good morning, Gabriel," she said. "I need to stop by Memory Alpha. Can we do that?"

"I'm going to lean on the side of no," said Lorca.

"I do not think you understand. Either Discovery is taking me to Memory Alpha, or I am leaving Discovery, because I require something which is on Memory Alpha."

"Lalana, that's—"

"If it helps, I can ask Starfleet to order us there to download Discovery's data archives to preserve a record of everything relating to our spore drive research, but it would be quicker if we simply went and Starfleet was not aware of it. Of course, if it is your preference, I will leave for the Gabriella immediately and make my own way."

Lorca took a deep breath. "Lalana. This is my ship. You do not tell Starfleet what to do with my ship." The last thing he wanted was Mischkelovitz's map downloaded into the central library archives.

Her head turned almost completely sideways. "Then will you take me or am I leaving?"

Lorca shook his head as he sighed. "What exactly do you need on Memory Alpha?"

"The lului box."

The silver brick, gifted by Umale, of unknown purpose and operation, which some part of Lorca genuinely suspected to be a paperweight. "Why now?"

"Emellia and I have a theory as to its use. We believe it may be a self-powered computer capable of performing the calculations needed to use the spore drive without Stamets, and that the reason the Federation has not been able to fully ascertain this yet is that it requires a lului to operate. Since I am the only lului available, it stands to reason we should bring it aboard."

"That is a whopping big if," said Lorca.

"Emellia has studied the data readouts and she feels they support this conclusion. Emellia is very smart, so I trust her assessment, and if she is right, then having the box here on board where it can be readily used for this purpose seems wise. Do you not think?"

Lorca did trust Mischkelovitz's assessments. They tended to be correct in his experience, even if a few of her assertions like the existence of chronitons in the null time bubble remained unproven. If she was right about this, it might give them a viable backup to Stamets in the event of his incapacitation, and if she was wrong, well, maybe they could find some other use for that mystery box.

Lalana hopped forward. "We can go together, you and I. It will be the sort of mission you can do while everyone else waits on the ship for a change. Aren't you tired of waiting on the ship, playing captain? Would you not like to get out there and do something? It will be as much fun as Tederek. Remember Tederek?" She hopped forward again. "Sneaking around right under everyone's noses and they will never know how foolish they truly are."

There was another thing to consider, too. The lului box wasn't the only thing he might retrieve from Memory Alpha. There were also potentially full, unredacted copies of records which had been legally sealed. The lului box might serve as a good excuse to see what Groves was hiding behind those court orders.

Still, it was risky, it would mean stepping off of Discovery (which he was loathe to do), and objections had to be raised. Lorca leaned one hand against his desk and put the other on his hip. "You're talking about jumping us past Earth. We've never gone that far."

She used her tail as support to stretch up slightly. "Then would not it be impressive to do? And just think, nobody but us will know we did it. And if there is an emergency, we will simply jump back here. Though, you may have to leave me behind since I cannot beam back aboard on short notice."

If there was an emergency, Starfleet wasn't going to be able to reach them, because they would be several sectors away from where they were supposed to be. Unless they left a communications relay, carefully disguised and coded to forward any transmissions to them. There was an asteroid belt in a nearby system that could serve as cover for such a relay. Alternately, they might leave behind an entire shuttle, since a shuttle could move around and make it look like Discovery was still in the area, but if Lalana was going, they would need a shuttle to move from the ship to the planet, and that might be too many shuttles out at once...

Lalana watched Lorca as the wheels turned in his head and was entirely pleased with herself. She could clearly see on his face that he had already decided they were going to do it. She knew full well how much Lorca loved proving his own superiority over the rest of the hoodwinked masses.

In this regard, Lorca was not alone, but for John Groves, life was not a grand adventure so much as a series of unfolding disappointments.

This was not a new conclusion on Groves' part. He had realized life was not all it was cracked up to be a long time ago, earlier than most, and had been languishing under the enduring futility of it all ever since. It was all random, for starters. Evolution, existence, love, death, pain. That a single sperm hit an egg and gave rise to a person was as random and pointless as anything could be. Even when the combination was entirely directed and controlled for the purposes of bringing about that specific person, as had been the case for most of Groves' relations. It was still an unfortunate bit of senseless chaos.

His own life in particular was a pointless routine. Wake up in the morning, make some tea, drink it with Lalana, wait for Mischkelovitz to stumble out of her wall dwelling, make sure she was brushed and washed and all those stupid little things she always forgot about unless prompted. He envied her those wall compartments. He had outgrown the ability to squeeze into them twenty years ago and lost some part of his connection to her and Milosz in the process. He had become an outsider in a very literal sense. Now that they were adults and could control the size of the compartments, the designs still precluded him from entering. Instead, O'Malley had taken his place.

This morning, two unusual things happened. First, during morning tea, Lalana asked him to tell Mischkelovitz their conversation from last night had been "fully realized." The word choice, like most things about Lalana, struck Groves as patently odd.

The second oddity was that, after the regular morning tasks and receiving this missive, Mischkelovitz announced she was leaving the lab to attend to something.

"Whatever, cool," said Groves. He went and sat in his corner with his padd and opened Brig Chess.

It was called Brig Chess because he had programmed it while sitting in the brig and used it to pass the time there. It had caught on among various members of the crew who liked chess. The styling of the program was delightfully no-frills and retro. All player names were four characters long, an homage to the invention of arcade games, and the green-on-black coloration was a direct reference to early computing systems.

Groves had five games going at the moment, two of them blind on his end, and quickly sent out a new round of moves to his opponents. He had the highest score in the game largely because, unlike everyone else on the ship, he could afford to take on as many opponents as he wanted. He had no other official duties to attend to.

Which was not to say he had nothing to do. There were also two dozen legal briefs sent from various offices across the quadrant requesting his attention. The war did not negate the slow process of justice in the Federation. A few of the briefs he could not help with from Discovery and he denied their requests. The others, he drafted arguments for and filed them into the queue for transmission at Discovery's next unrestricted communications relay.

A new brig chess game request pinged. Groves checked it. It was from "M.B." I wish to play Vulcan chess, the message read.

Sure, he wrote back. Vulcan chess was a bit of a misnomer; it was a game that had arisen on Vulcan which bore some similarities to Earth chess in that there was a board and various specialized pieces, but the gameplay was a bit different and the pieces and strategy markedly so. Groves and M.B. were the only people on the ship who played it. It had not even been a component in the original brig chess program; Groves added it after M.B. inquired about the possibility.

It was interesting that, while M.B. knew the "Rove" she was playing with was the designer of the brig chess program, she probably had no idea who he actually was. His chosen nickname, Rove, was only an oblique reference to his own identity and was a word in its own right. Devoid of any context, it was hard to draw the connection.

In contrast, Groves knew full well he was playing against Michael Burnham. If the initials weren't clue enough, there was also the fact M.B. appeared shortly after Burnham's arrival on Discovery and the fact M.B.'s first few games had been against SILY: Burnham's roommate, Cadet Sylvia Tilly. (Also Groves' favorite player nickname, after his own.)

Really, the only players who knew Rove was Groves were NATE, MISH, LLNA, and probably SARU. NATE had been the reason he programmed brig chess in the first place. Sex and chess were the two things he and Egarova had bonded over in null time. At least he had been able to keep the chess component of the relationship going.

As far as M.B. went, Burnham was an excellent opponent, but Groves had learned early on that she had a serious problem with losing, so sometimes he had to let her win. The really hilarious thing was when he did, she would typically feel obliged to point out whatever "mistake" he had made, as if he needed her help to improve his intentionally torpedoed game. He could see why Saru had found her such a frustrating crewmate on the Shenzhou.

He wondered if he should let Burnham have this game or not. She was capable of beating him honestly, just not as frequently as she thought she did. He decided to give her a run for her money today.

The Mudd incident was shaping up to be a very interesting report for Starfleet. Lorca sipped his coffee as he reviewed it one more time, making sure the contents were unassailable while revealing only those details he thought Starfleet ought to know. There was no need to contradict the report on his time in Klingon prison by revealing Mudd's vengeance was borne of being deserted in that godforsaken place.

The door chimed. "Enter," said Lorca, looking away from the lights of the bridge for the brief moment the doors were open. When he looked back, he saw Mischkelovitz standing in the ready room, her hands pressed together in front of her in a way that resembled Lalana's expression of distress, minus the knocking motion. Her gaze was fixed firmly on the floor.

"Mischka," he greeted, wondering what she was doing up here. "Something wrong?" His first thought was that she had come to fret about the lului box.

She did not answer immediately. Her head twisted as she swallowed nervously. Her eyes scrunched shut. "Captain, I..." She swallowed again, her mouth dry. "I'm—I wanted to ask you something." Her hands twisted, the right one curling into a fist and then the left covering it, nails digging into her skin.

A question, not a guilty conscience. Not that it couldn't be both. "And you couldn't ask using the comm?"

"No!" There was real, palpable fear in her voice at that prospect.

"Is this about the lului device?" he asked. She shook her head softly. He held out a fortune cookie to lure her in. It worked, of course. She never declined them.

In this case, perhaps she should have. Her mouth was so dry she had trouble chewing and she asked with a trembling voice, "Water?"

He brought her half a glass of water and she downed it quickly and in one go, hands so tight around the glass it shook. Lorca leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms, looking down at her with a vaguely amused frown. The last time she had gotten like this, it was because she had misspoken his name. He really hoped this was some sort of greater problem than that, because otherwise this was getting a little ridiculous, mycelial map and mystery box be damned. "Do I need to call Mally or Groves up here?"

Again, her reply was instantaneous, but this time more horrified than afraid: "No!" Her hair bobbed as she shook her head again, more forcefully this time. "I just, I wanted to ask you something... something personal."

It was clear she was having a tremendous amount of difficulty. He reached out and took the glass from her, their fingers touching as he did. He could feel the tremble even from that brief contact. He put the glass safely on the table. "Go ahead."

Absent the glass, she clasped her hands in front of her, left over right again. "I didn't... with my husband... and so... I was wondering..."

His eyebrows shot up. Surely she didn't mean what that sounded like. Surely that wasn't the question she was asking.

"In the time loop, we all died, over and over again, and I don't want to, to die without ever actually... With another person..." She trembled almost from head to toe.

It definitely, definitely was. "Never?" he asked. She shook her head. How in the hell can that be the case. This can't really be happening. "Doctor. Are you asking me to have sex with you?"

"Yes, please." She lifted her eyes for the first time, looking up towards him with more hope than fear, but her hands were still shaking. "Please?"

It had not been easy for her to ask, and if he were a better man, he would probably have refused. But he wasn't. He smirked. "Okay."

All shivering ceased. She gasped and looked up, bright-eyed. "Really?"

He crossed his arms and smiled faintly. "My quarters, 2030." The smile on her face was irrepressible, even if there were still tears glinting in her eyes from anticipated rejection. "Now wipe your eyes and get back to work."

She did so, wiping her sleeve across her face as she bowed in appreciation. She actually bowed. "Thank you, captain!" She turned on her heel and fled as commanded.

Again, Lorca averted his eyes when the doors opened and closed. He returned to his usual place behind the desk and picked up with the report, but with only half a mind on the actual work at hand. A virgin. You didn't see those every day, especially on a starship. What in the hell had been wrong with Milosz.

O'Malley was probably going to kill him for this. Just another thing to add to his list of reasons to hate Lorca.

When Mischkelovitz returned, she was giddy and kept periodically bursting out into giggles but would not say why. Groves stared at her and asked her in qoryan what the big deal was.

She refused to answer.

Groves scratched at his wrists. There were no scars there—medical technology had taken care of that—but sometimes the skin still itched when he was frustrated, and this was very frustrating. The rules of qoryan stated that you were always supposed to speak the truth with it and to keep no secrets, because secrets were for outsiders, not for them.

Groves decided to speak some truth to her right now. "Li kat ma'soproht ze pakri makiin? Je ma ha't'rohti." You think you can count me as an outsider? I'm us-but-older.

Mischkelovitz's eyes widened. "E'hhro ma'tiinen? Je ba kroht se bakiin!" Aren't you cheating? You sound as if you didn't leave us!

Groves scowled at that, because nothing served to guilt him so thoroughly as the fact he had left and none of them would ever let him forget it. "Esseren ma'so'prohti, xi'sohn." I expect this cruelty from outsiders, monster.

"E prei'baroh. Se malotoh." I'm sorry. You're right. "Kii'reh pa'prossi je patrafah patrossen." If I told you our plan it might change it.

Groves hummed thoughtfully. "Fair enough," he said. "Don't blame me when it blows up in your face because you didn't tell me."

Mischkelovitz stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his out right back. As mature as ever, the pair of them.

They stayed in their respective corners for the rest of the day until O'Malley came to fetch them for dinner, or, as O'Malley described it while he and Groves fetched the trays and Mischkelovitz secured the table like a small and vicious guard dog, "Dinner as breakfast. It never gets old." O'Malley sighed.

Groves groaned. This was not the first time O'Malley had cracked that particular line. "You can ask the dispenser to make breakfast, you know. Or maybe you don't. I'm never quite sure exactly how dumb you are."

"Down, John," warned O'Malley as they headed for the table where Mischkelovitz was waiting. "You know Melly hates breakfast food. I'm not very well going to eat it in front of her."

Groves rolled his eyes. God forbid O'Malley do a single thing Mischkelovitz disagreed with. It was ridiculous, really, the lengths O'Malley would go to please certain people in the hopes of receiving their table scraps.

"We waiting for Saru?" asked Groves as they sat down.

"No, I asked him not to come today," said O'Malley.

"I thought he was your friend," said Groves.

Almost at the same time, Mischkelovitz went, "Why would you do that?"

O'Malley sat, fork in hand, feeling besieged on two sides, and said, "Has it ever occurred to you two there are things going on in my life that don't involve either of you?"

"Not really," said Groves.

"What does that mean?" asked Mischkelovitz, seeming genuinely confused.

O'Malley put his fork down, covered his face, and groaned. "You're children, both of you. I hate everyone today."

"Mally?" said Mischkelovitz. O'Malley's hands slid down and he peered out from between his fingers at her. "I love you."

O'Malley dropped his hands and smiled at her. She always knew the right thing to say to cheer him up, even if that was largely because it was always the same thing. "Just as much," he answered. "Now can we please eat quietly, peacefully for once? And maybe not judge me for twenty minutes?"

Mischkelovitz started tittering at that for reasons that made sense only to her. Groves knocked his knee against hers to get her to stop. The last thing any of them needed was a public bout of hysterics to draw attention to themselves. Also, laughter was dangerously contagious, and if Mischkelovitz went off, he might end up doing the same.

After dinner, Groves was officially released from his duties watching Mischkelovitz. He wandered over to the cargo bay to shoot some hoops. It was a bittersweet hobby. Absent anyone to play with growing up, he had no skill in the teamwork aspects of the game; all he really knew how to do was make shots of impressive technical precision. If only his childhood had provided the opportunity to pursue the sport. By the time they had all escaped, it was too late.

It was, he thought to himself as he flicked the ball towards the hoop and watched it soar in perfectly, always too late to change anything.

When Mischkelovitz left the lab again, O'Malley and Larsson were on the door.

"Where are you going?" asked O'Malley.

"Secret project update," she said.

He knew there was some secret project Lorca had her working on, but whatever it was, it was above his security clearance, so he left it and let Larsson go on break and stood there by himself trying to empty his mind of all thoughts. This worked only a little bit, so he switched mental tactics and pictured Aeree in the morning sunlight, beckoning him towards the bath. She was as beautiful as she was opaque, a mystery he had yet to solve. Maybe someday. He had no intention of giving up.

The proximity alert beeped in his left ear. Incoming. He turned his head and heard a familiar set of footsteps. Only one person on the ship had that stride. Saru.

Some part of O'Malley's heart sank.

"Colonel O'Malley," said Saru, inclining his head in greeting.

"Commander Saru," he replied, curtly. "Can I help you with something?"

"May we speak inside a moment?" asked Saru.

Some part of O'Malley really did not want to, but he owed Saru an explanation. He opened the outer doors and informed Larsson of his position.

"I apologize for disturbing you while you are on duty," said Saru as soon as the doors slid shut, "but I find myself concerned. I have very much valued our discussions and if I have done something to cause you offense..."

That was the worst conclusion Saru could have drawn. O'Malley felt genuinely bad for giving that impression. "No, you haven't."

"Why are you avoiding me, colonel?" Saru could be delightfully direct when he wanted.

O'Malley scrunched his nose. "It's not you I'm trying to avoid. It's me." He swallowed. "I'm not the man you think I am, Saru. I wish I were. I've done things. And I think... I've done something I can't come back from." His gaze fell towards the floor.

Saru considered that. "We have all made mistakes, colonel. Whatever you have done..." A shift came over Saru. He straightened. "You referred to me once as a 'unicorn.' This is a creature from Earth's mythology which is seen as being innocent and pure. I am neither innocent nor pure, colonel. In my brief time in command of Discovery, I knowingly inflicted suffering upon a sentient living being under the misguided belief that the ends would somehow justify those means. In doing so, I betrayed those ideals which I hold most dear. Furthermore, I did this to an alien who was gravely misunderstood by many, which is something I myself know all too well. I think, if I were to be in your interrogation room, you would not judge me an acceptable captain."

O'Malley took this in with an expression of spreading shock. "That's... The mere fact you'd think that says you'd never end up in the room with me. Ever. And I don't judge captains. That's not my job. Even if it were..." O'Malley's brow furrowed. "That's part of why people talk to me. Because I don't judge them. I give them exactly what they want. Understanding, forgiveness, and justification. And they impale themselves on it. Because I do everything I can to make sure the blow doesn't strike them in the heart."

There was something unclear in O'Malley's words, some combination of his analogy and his stated methodology. It did not sound like he was wholly engaged in the pursuit of justice. "I do not understand what you mean exactly."

"I mean I wish I were a callous bastard like some of the people who sit down across from me. I envy them their cruelty. It seems preferable."

Saru's head shifted right, then left. "Surely you do not mean that."

"Oh, no, I do. The problem with being a bleeding heart is that your heart constantly bleeds. Literally, in my case. I wish I could turn it off." O'Malley crossed his arms with his hands tucked under his arms defensively.

Saru stood quietly a moment. "I understand. Sometimes... I have sometimes wished I were a predator instead of being prey. The traits which predators have, their fearlessness and strength, these are qualities I lack, and which seem to make navigating the universe so much easier. And yet, if I were a predator, I would be both capable and culpable of causing pain and suffering in others. I do not wish that, having experienced it myself."

There was a twist of sympathy on O'Malley's face. "Do you know, the other meaning of unicorn was the one I meant. I know you're not innocent or pure or perfect, but you are something rare, Saru. You're incredibly brave. Bravest person on this ship, I should think."

Saru's head shook. "I am not brave."

"You are in the one way that really counts. You're honest. It takes a lot of bravery to admit your shortcomings, your weaknesses, and not just to others, but to yourself."

That did ring true. It also seemed applicable. Saru pressed his fingers together. "Perhaps it would be of benefit to you if you were to admit what it is has cast a cloud over you, colonel."

"I wish it were that easy."

"Perhaps it is."

"Tell me something. If you could do things over again with Ripper, knowing what you know now, would you still have used him the way you did?"

"I would not," said Saru with total certainty.

"See, that's the difference. I know what I did was wrong, and I'd still do it. I'd even do it a third time if it came down to it."

Saru was taken slightly aback. "Why, if you know it is wrong?"

"For the same reason anyone does anything crazy." O'Malley smiled in a way that suggested it was borne from a private thought. "Anyway. What's done is done and we can't change it. Probably better that way. We'd go mad if we could."

"Yes. We can only move forward and attempt to do better next time," said Saru.

"And that's why you'll never end up in my interrogation room. You don't need an interrogator. You own up to your mistakes and admit the things that weigh on you. Admitting things is the first step towards overcoming them. I wish I were as brave as you. And I really wish the captain were, too."

"Captain Lorca is one of the bravest captains I have ever met."

In many regards, this was true. Lorca had no fear of battle or death. He commanded with certainty and purpose. Yet it was also completely false. "But you see it, too, right? It's like there's a burden on his shoulders."

"There is no secret there," said Saru. "The destruction of the Buran weighs heavily on the captain."

O'Malley hummed faintly. "Mm, no, it's something else, something people don't know about. John's the same way. Whatever it was, it was so terrible he'll do anything to avoid talking about it for fear it'll be used against him. It's interesting. I've gotten some of the worst people ever to serve in Starfleet to open up to me even when it meant condemning themselves, and for the first time, I don't have to condemn anyone in any way, and he still won't open up."

Saru tilted his head again, stared at O'Malley with unblinking eyes. There was a clear difference between Lorca and captains being interrogated after the commission of crimes. Internal Security did not tend to arrest officers unless they were certain of their guilt. "That is because Captain Lorca still has something left to lose. If I may, colonel, as a species, my people have lost more than most. That is why it does not trouble me to be honest. I do not fear losing."

O'Malley blinked, gazing up at Saru with a sort of reverence. "You don't, do you?" This time, O'Malley's smile was genuinely pleased. "You know, you can call me Mac."

Informality did not come easily to Saru. "Very well, Mac."

"Someday I'll tell you what happened. I just hope you won't hate me for it when I do."

Saru was gratified by the words. "As someone who has also made mistakes, I do not think I could."

Lorca used everything he learned watching Mischkelovitz on the security feeds and then some. In human psychology, as with many other species, the first experience you had of something tended to be what defined it for you and Lorca was hell-bent on making this particular definition the best one possible. Mischkelovitz, for her part, brought a lot of medical and biological knowledge to the table. She was just missing the practical elements.

Which was why, at the end of it all, when Mischkelovitz rolled away and covered her face and started crying, he was genuinely disturbed by the reaction. He sat up. "Mischka." He touched her on the shoulder.

She recoiled and curled into a ball, shaking.

"What's wrong?" No answer. Her position and state seemed to indicate a deep shame. "Is it Milosz?"

"No!" she blurted through the tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to cry. You don't deserve this. You've been so kind."

Lorca raised an eyebrow. "I didn't do this to be kind. I was being selfish. I wanted to go where no man had gone before." It was, after all, the guiding mandate of Starfleet.

There was a momentary pause. Mischkelovitz inhaled sharply and a laugh choked out. Then another. She began to laugh hysterically in that way only she could. Her hands fell away from her eyes and her shoulders shook with genuine mirth.

He chuckled, too, and smiled. "And I'm your first. That means a part of you will always belong to me."

She wiped her eyes, still convulsing with paroxysms of laughter. "Thank you, Gabe. Sorry for crying." The laughter subsided and the tears were gone with it.

"Come here." He put his hand on her bare back and this time she did not recoil. She rolled back towards him and nestled against his shoulder. "I like that you can cry. At least one of us can." If he had been able to muster up the tears again, would Cornwell have forgiven him the phaser? Probably not, but maybe it would have helped. It certainly had back in San Francisco.

He felt a small vibration against his shoulder. Not movement, but sound. "What is that? Is that music?"

"Yes," she said. "If you lean in close, you can hear it." She shifted position upward, so her head was next to his, and Lorca pressed his ear against hers. There were small patterns of harplike sounds emerging from her implant.

"What is it?"

"Mishima."

The patterns repeated over and over, changing slightly as they did. "It's a little repetitive," admitted Lorca.

"I like repetition. Patterns are math. Math is everything."

There was something a little familiar in the phrasing. "Ask Stamets, and he'll tell you it's all mushrooms."

"Stamets can't see what I see."

Lorca smiled at that. It was a good thing Stamets' focus was so narrow. He was literally missing the bigger picture. "No, he cannot. How about you walk me through the latest revision of your map?"

It was a perfect way to end the evening. Lorca and Mischkelovitz both loved that map and when he asked her how many jumps she thought were needed to complete it, he found the answer high but completely within the realms of possibility.

One hundred and fifty jumps. That was what she estimated. The number echoed in Lorca's mind after Mischkelovitz departed his quarters. She insisted it was only an estimate, but she was good at estimates. If she thought that's what it would take, he had no doubt it would be the case.

One-hundred and fifty jumps was going to equal a lot of dead Klingons if Gabriel Lorca had anything to say about it.

Part 68

#Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek fanfiction #USS Discovery #fanfic #fanfiction #Gabriel Lorca #Captain Lorca #Commander Saru #Saru #Paul Stamets

[emmajenna]

Irrevocable vs Revocable Trusts

Because we are Utah lawyers, we are often asked questions. We love answering questions. Today we were asked about trusts. Here is some information that should be useful to you. An irrevocable trust is an agreement allowing property to be held by one party for the benefit of another, stipulating that that it cannot be readily revoked, altered, or amended. It is commonly used for asset protection and estate planning. A trust is a legal tool that consists of three parties:

A Settlorwho has the trust created.

A Trusteewho manages the trust.

One or more Beneficiarieswho receive the benefits of the trust.

You will also hear a Settlor also referred to as a Grantor or Trustor. A trust can also have multiple Settlors and/or Trustees. Then next question we answer is about revocable vs. irrevocable trusts, and how they compare.

Revocable vs. Irrevocable Trusts

A revocable trust, commonly a revocable living trust, is an estate planning tool that a settlor can change at any time. So, if your needs change you can make amendments freely without the interaction of a third-party.

So, why doesn’t everybody set up a trust that is revocable as opposed to an irrevocable trust? There are several reasons.

A revocable living trust is part of your own estate for asset protection purposes.  As such, it offers no asset protectionfrom creditors or those who seek to sue you.

It also offers no segregation of assets in order to qualify for supportsuch as Medicaid or disability assistance.

Plus, upon your death, such a trust is also yours for state and federal estate tax

Why Irrevocable?

The primary reason people use irrevocable trusts to protect assets from lawsuits. Legal theory commonly allows a creditor to step into the shoes of the debtor. It allows the creditor do what he or she could do. For example, let’s say the settlor of a trust could freely change the beneficiary. The one who sued the settlor could step into his or her shoes and change the beneficiary to himself. If the trust allowed the settlor to independently spend trust assets on himself, the creditor could do the same.

Plus, some people use irrevocable trusts to make sure that others carry out their wishes when they are no longer around. This is common in second marriages where a spouse wants to make sure that children from the first marriage get at least some of the assets.

This article will primarily focus on the use of an irrevocable trust to protect assets from lawsuits, judgments and creditors. It will also touch on its role as an estate planning tool.

I Can’t Ever Change It?

It’s not quite like that, as there are often ways to make changes. It depends on how the trust is drafted. But if the purpose is asset protection, the changes often require the approval of a third-party, such as the trustee. Most trusts that protect assets are discretionary trusts. For example, if you decide to cut out a beneficiary or add a new one, simply ask the trustee. The trustee, at his, her or it’s (in the case of a corporate trustee) discretion can do so.

The trustee has discretion to decide whether or not the act would be in the best interest of the beneficiaries of the trust. They will see if it complies with the settlor’s intent, the overall purpose of the trust, and if doing so would or would not put trust assets in harm’s way.

To say it another way, if you could change it directly, the judge could force you to change the beneficiary to your legal enemies. So, by making it irrevocable, you are more likely to get what you want: the use of the trust assets. By requiring third-party intervention, it ties the judge’s hands from directly forcing you to make the changes against your will.

Changing Trustees

Don’t like the trustee? That’s okay. Simply fire him or her and hire another. You can change the trustee to anyone but yourself, a family member up or down the family trustee, an agent of yours, or a controlled employee. This is because courts consider these people your alter ego.

There are many types of irrevocable trust. Not all are for asset protection. There are trust to hold life insurance, for charitable purposes, to reduce the tax bite, and to care for those with special needs.

Conveyances & Transfers

Many people ask us about fraudulent conveyance / transfer and if they can get into trouble for moving assets into such a structure. The answer is, that fraudulent transfer is merely a civil matter, not a criminal one. It is not a crime. You cannot go to jail for it. There are not fines. The most that can happen is a judge can put assets back to where they were in the first place.

Allowances for the Unforeseen

Properly drafted trusts allow for wide range of future possibilities. For example, there are circumstances that would warrant a change of beneficiaries or trustees. Perhaps Mom and Dad unexpectedly have another child. One child exhibits evidence of long-term substance abuse. On child tragically perishes. The trustee retires. A well-drafted trust addresses all of these circumstances.

How Can It Be Irrevocable? 

How can it be irrevocable if I really can change it? Notice the operative word, “I.” Irrevocable doesn’t necessarily mean nobody on the planet can change it. It doesn’t mean that you cannot suggest a change to someone else. It just means that certain people cannot, independently, without outside cooperation, change it. This is a good thing. Remember, if you could just change the beneficiary at a whim, the judge could force your whim to be your enemy at law.

Direct Control Can Hurt You

We all like control. But if you have complete power to change the trust, it could be used against you in a courtroom. That’s because a judge could force you to use that control and that would likely not be a good thing for you. He can force you to change the beneficiary to the person who sued you. That will allow your opponent to take all of the money held therein that is needed to satisfy their judgment. So, when you are lose a lawsuit, a revocable trust puts the judge, not you, in charge.

Why Choose an Irrevocable Trust?

A trust can be used to protect assets, but every trust is not equal to the next trust agreement, not by a long shot. A properly drafted irrevocable trust can protect assets from creditors. It can shield you from unnamed family members seeking addition as beneficiaries at the grantor’s death, or anyone else trying to take the grantor’s assets.

Free Initial Consultation with an Asset Protection Lawyer

When you need help with irrevocable or revocable trusts, call Ascent Law for your free consultation [phone]. We want to help you.

Ascent Law LLC8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite CWest Jordan, Utah 84088 United StatesTelephone: [phone]

Ascent Law LLC

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Shenmue 1 & 2 review: a strong port and the best way to play these flawed yet brilliant classics

Historic and classic, Shenmue and its sequel deserve a classic re-release. Musicians should know they’re in for the purposes of an uneven, sometimes archaic seem go, though. Shenmue is a legendary serial for a lot of reasons, but mainly it’s to do with costs and scale. There’s no two ways about it: Shenmue is one of the most important plays ever built, though in a way that’s as much down to where it was unsuccessful as much as where it excels. You learn, Shenmue is the sort of mad, one-man vision that is seldom attained these days, and practically never for a budget as comparatively big as Shenmue’s, which had an spending that interrupted records at the time of its liberate back in 1999. Its unfortunate fate is intrinsically intertwined with the ill health of the Dreamcast and Sega, too, and that’s part of the decision making process that led to another aspect of its status as legend: it’s an unfinished narrative, a tome that feels scarcely complete. Now that fan necessitate has been possible to stir Shenmue 3 a reality, albeit with a different publisher and under a vastly reduced fund, Sega is eventually seen fit to revisit the original titles that got this lengthy expedition started. This is great news for the cause of video game preservation. If nothing else: Shenmue is a landmark name, and it deserves to have a higher excellence, most reliable technique of playing other than digging out an original Dreamcast or taking your chances on bumpy performance with emulation. Sega are being very careful not to call this release of the two games that make up the Shenmue series so far Shenmue Remastered or even Shenmue HD. When I casually refer to the releases as’ Shenmue HD’ in an email, a Sega representative is quick to remedy me: this isn’t Shenmue HD, it’s just Shenmue and its sequel in one pack. It’s a re-release , not a remaster. Fair enough. One has to say that if Sega wanted to call this a HD Remaster they could very well get away with it. Sure, the textures are the same excellence and the minor tweaks offered in the different new self-control modes for video games don’t do much to stop it from often feeling like a frustrate, plodding nightmare, but this is still easily the definitive version of Shenmue, running in widescreen( in play, anyway- story strings persist 4:3) and at a locked, solid 30 frames per second where the Dreamcast and original Xbox versions would dip down to the low-toned teens. It’s good stuff, a sort of belt-and-braces approaching to porting an age-old play. I actually actually appreciate it in such cases. Yeah, Shenmue has a lot of textures that gaze grainy as inferno when video games is moving at 2160 p or 1080 p, but it doesn’t really matter. By retaining the textures and simply running the game at a higher solving and frame rate, the original intent and feel is retained- something that isn’t always true-blue in more hands-on remasters. The only regions changed are those subject to licensing deals, such as Timex and Coca Cola, or small-time quality of life of canadians improvements like the ability to save anywhere. The first title’s field leap aspect is turned on by default, too- streamlining things and reducing the amount of aimless walking around, but also riskily upping opportunities of musicians to miss several one-time events. Generally, nonetheless, this is a faithful and respectful version of the original games. The approach of retaining the spirit of the original also accentuates the main thing players should be aware of going to get Shenmue: this is the same game. It’s an old game, and a game that at the time was highly experimental. It’s obtuse, sometimes frustrating and downright brilliant. Ingredients of its intend, such as a real-time open-ended world where personas have their own daily routines, were revolutionary and pointed towards the future of many other games. In other areas- such as powers and localization- both Shenmue games now very much feel their age. Players who have been spoiled on games like Yakuza while also hearing it called the spiritual successor to Shenmue will be surprised if they go in expecting something similar. These plays are more of an adventure play in style, all about interrogating friendly people out on the street to gather intelligence on where you need to go next. When that detective work is broken up with opposing it’s either in a highly controlled quick time occurrence or in a more methodical, slower-paced encounter descended from Virtua Fighter rather than the bare-knuckle brawling of something like Yakuza. In fact, despite the superficial similarities that drive people to compare them, Shenmue is nothing like Yakuza. Shenmue has a very specific feel that requires very concrete tastes to genuinely enjoy, but if it clicks for you it’ll become a truly special time in your gaming history. Ultimately it’s all about that pacing and atmosphere. Constituent of what shaped Shenmue so brilliant back at the turn of the millennium was how successful it was as a persona playing game. I say that not in the feeling of stats and leveling up but rather in how successful both plays are at shaping you truly represent Ryo Hazuki. There’s a glorious sense of the mundane to how the Shenmue plays approach their worlds. You can take out time to hit up the arcade, gamble, project part-time jobs or practice your martial art, and all are treated with a methodical, cool restraint that in a sense echoes the calm martial artists of still mind and spirit that Ryo aspires to eventually be like. This is all part of why the Shenmue games allow themselves to be so obtuse. Duty of it is also simply down to a lack of understood it this sort of world intend back in’ 99, but this is a series that likewise wants you to get stuck on occasion. When you make a brick wall, that’s the perfect time to blow off some steam in teach or at the arcade, or simply by exploring countries around the world around you, which gradually becomes more familiar as a residence city does. Shenmue 2 turns some of this feeling on its psyche to great impression, too, repeatedly displacing you as soon as Ryo begins to get his bearings, in turn successfully capturing the chaos, excite and fear that comes with backpacking alone in a strange place. These are the same games. They feature the same frustrations and foibles as they did back on original freeing, and in the highly refined, most competent epoch of 2018 some of the problems are more pronounced. But like an aging car that needs the key turned at only the right hasten or the clutch popped in simply the right way to get onto to start, both Shenmue games are also all the more lovable because of their uneven texture and strange ardour for the mundane. Nobody said classics had to be perfect. Shenmue as a series is not, at the least so far. A flawed masterpiece is a masterpiece nonetheless, and perhaps the most important reason that modern, quality ports of Shenmue subsist is that there truly is nothing else quite like it. It deserves to be experienced. The post Shenmue 1& 2 review: a strong port and the best route to play these flawed yet brilliant classics appeared first on VG2 47. Read more: vg247.com http://dailybuzznetwork.com/index.php/2018/08/25/shenmue-1-2-review-a-strong-port-and-the-best-way-to-play-these-flawed-yet-brilliant-classics/