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thedupshadove · 5 years

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Scooby Doo Idea

Okay. The Gang were friends in high school, and while they all (with one notable exception. Stay tuned.) went to different colleges, they stayed in touch. They had had sort of an amateur investigative service running back in school, so when they all got out of their respective post-high-school obligations and realized that they all had no immediate plans (and privately, each of them realized that they all had emotional damage that made them reluctant to just go do adult life), they decided to take their investigative skills on the road, mostly as an excuse to semi-drop-out of society. Hey, it’s 1970. These things happen. But then, wherever they go they keep bumping into things that really do need solving. (“But where did they get the money for the van?” Daphne. “But all the food they have to buy--” Daphne. “But most people probably don’t pay them once their mystery gets solved--” Daphne. Daphne hasn’t even come into her inheritance proper yet, but her trust fund alone could buy Switzerland for cash.) Again, we are not trying to make this take on the series “modern” or “interesting” by having the characters constantly be at each other’s throats. They genuinely care about each other (and because this is me, will have settled into a full-on polycule before the series is over). It’s just that they all have, from various sources, considerable emotional damage that they need to do their best to work through. (But we’re gonna do our best not to let them be defined by their damage. They still have [variants on] the personalities we know and love from the old cartoons.)

Norville “Shaggy” Rogers: As high school came to a close, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to major in at college...and then Uncle Sam called, and he never got a chance to decide, because it was 1966 and the war was hungry. After three years of Hell, he got shot in the shoulder just badly enough to qualify for a discharge home, where he spent the next year failing to shake it off. Luckily for him, he’s blessed with a fairly supportive, understanding family, but still, he’s been through things no teenager should have to, and he’s been left with scars far deeper than the one in his left shoulder. (Note to self: get as accurate a picture as possible of actual PTSD symptoms. Yes, he has nightmares, and yes, there may be the occasional flashback, but we need more than just those two cliché things. Let’s see, what do I already know? Well, he gets protective of people he cares about, he’s generally kind of nervous and jumpy [as is the standard for this character, but now with more of a concrete reason], his huge appetite may partially be a reaction to memories of starving in the jungle; now that food is plentiful, he eats, because he can’t entirely convince his subconscious that it’s going to stay plentiful. And for all his cowardice, when things get bad, I mean really bad, he slips into a sort of...detached competence. A fugue-like, hyper-focused calm in which he knows exactly what to do, and will put all his energy into seeing it done.) However, as I said, none of these people are entirely defined by their damage. When he’s calm, or at least comparatively calm (which sometimes comes with the help of pot) there shines through a caring, empathetic, gentle man with a surprisingly deep wisdom and a laid-back sense of humor. Also, in addition to his voracious appetite, he’s an excellent cook, and putting his energy into cooking is one of the things that can help calm him down after his symptoms get bad, and generally be a thing in his life that helps him heal. In addition to this, during his Year Of Failed Recovery, his uncle, who had a similarly hard time recovering after World War Two, suggested that he get a dog, advice which Shaggy took, which brings us to…

Scoobert “Scooby” Doo: What you need to understand about Scooby in this version is...he’s a dog. He’s very intelligent...for a dog. He’s very helpful in dangerous situations...for a dog. He’s surprisingly good at communicating with humans...for a dog. But he doesn’t talk, and he is not supernatural in any other way. He’s a dog. Nevertheless, he serves an important role in the group, not least of which is as Shaggy’s (though he’s never officially called this, as I believe the phenomenon was not a recognized as a medical phenomenon in 1970) emotional support dog. Like most dogs, he’s good at sensing what mood his people are in, and Shaggy is his people (and so are the others, eventually), so even though the actual training that emotional support animals get today didn’t exist for him to get, he can tell when Shaggy is in a particularly upset mood, and offer comfort. In addition, having an animal to care for gave Shaggy one more means of grounding. Plus, it doesn’t matter how well-planned your criminal scheme is, or how dedicated you are to it, if a big fuckoff Great Dane comes charging at you full-tilt, you’re gonna move. Most of his usual cowardice is probably gone in this version; in fact, if he feels that his people are in danger, he will not hesitate to square up and fight.

Frederick “Fred” “Freddie” Herman Jones: His father wanted a strong son; an athlete; the golden All-American boy...and he got it, by Hell or high water. Genuine interest in his son as a person? Willingness to support unconventional hobbies? Any affection given without Fred “earning” it by living up to one of the many standards of “manliness”? Naaaaaaaahhhh. Which was a problem, because Fred showed early on that he had little natural inclination towards what his father wanted him to be. His interests lay in painting, a particular breed of fashion, and mechanical things (and not the car kind.) Well, Papa Jones didn’t want any egghead or sissy for a son, and his efforts to “correct the problem” were, by most estimations, excessive. The man had a fast and furious temper. (And Mom died when Fred was very young, far too soon to do anything to counteract Dad’s influence) So Tiny Freddie learned to lie and suppress and play his part, and he played it so well that it couldn’t help become genuinely part of who he was (and, because children are children no matter what their parents are like, the praise he got when he finally lived up to his father’s standards warmed his little heart in a way he couldn’t control, even as he hated how much he had to hide), but through it all, he kept up his true self in secret, as much as he could, scheming and planning and hoping for the day when he could leave home and leave his father’s ideals behind. And he got into college (he got his father to accept an engineering major with only minimal cold disdain by pointing out all the possible connections to construction) and started trying to shed all of his father’s influence...only to find that he couldn’t, entirely. If you ask him point-blank, he will say that he knows his father was wrong and he’s not ashamed of his true self or his true interests, but getting out from under a lifetime of abuse is never that easy. After 18 years of being glared at and derided and shouted at and hit every time he did something “Poindextery” or “girly” or “weak”, the inner voice that does the same is something he has to face down and banish almost constantly. And as I said, some of the All-American Boy affect has just become part of who he is. His healthiest self, when he can find it, is the best of both worlds, with the gregarity and leadership skills of the Golden Boy combined with true embrace of the artist and inventor he is.

Velma Dace Dinkley: Her home life during childhood was just fine. The trouble came when those pesky peers showed up. She was short, and serious, and academic, and plain, and wore big thick glasses, and so she did not get along easily with the other children. She took things seriously, so when they teased, she took that very seriously, and lashed out, which only ostracized her more. Eventually, she buried the rage the only way she could: under layer upon layer of academia, forced apathy, and prickly snark. But underneath that, she was lonely. She didn’t feel lovable, or wanted, and she was frustrated by her inability to fix whatever it was that was wrong with her. Not that she was willing to admit any of this to herself, except in the dark and still of her bedroom at midnight. Who knows just how isolated she might have become if she hadn’t fallen in with the Gang during high school. As it is, she’s cynical, has a hard time dealing with or admitting to her own emotions, and is extremely distrustful of overt kindness or friendliness (the Gang get a pass on this because she knows them well, but if a stranger starts being noticeably nice to her, out come the quills.) She is, however, scary-smart. Smart enough to get PhDs in English and History in the time it took Fred and Daphne to get their Bachelors. And sometimes, when she’s around friends and feels safe, that clever, biting wit can be used for good, instead of to push people away “before they have a chance to hurt her”.

Daphne Anne Blake: What you have to understand is that the Blake family is rich. Wildly rich. Unimaginably rich. No, richer than you’re picturing. No, double that amount. No, on second thought, square it. The other thing you have to understand is that they have been this rich for slightly longer than America has existed as a political entity. So growing up a Blake certainly comes with privileges that most children can only dream of, but it also has its drawbacks, chief among which is that you will never, for one second, be allowed to forget that you are A Blake. And such was Daphne’s childhood. Grace, deportment, beauty, all the skills of a lady, perfection. Never a hair out of place, never a stain on that dress, never a sour note, never an uncouth word or gesture, don’t frown, dear, it wrinkles your forehead, but don’t laugh to hard, it puts lines around your mouth, and don’t you dare fall off that horse. After high school, she went on to Harvard for a B.A. in Psychology, because it’s important for even girls to be properly educated. And it’s all left her a scant hop skip and a jump away from being a nervous wreck. She needs everyone to like her all the time, she needs to look perfect, she needs to be perfect. But at least on some level, she doesn’t want to need to be perfect. She wanted to be able to relax, wanted to let her hair down, wanted to find an identity outside of being A Blake. Lucky for her, she’s the youngest of a large co-ed brood, and her parents suddenly decided that it was chic to have a child who was being slightly rebellious. So as long as she doesn’t get her name in the papers in a negative way, or overspend her allocated trust fund (which would be an impressive feat), they’re perfectly happy to titter at parties about how their youngest daughter is off roaming the country with her strange little friends. As to her quest to find herself outside of her family, it has and hasn’t succeeded. She’s mostly managed to reject generational snobbery and extend her gracious manners to one and all, but sometimes without thinking about it (or sometimes on purpose when they need it for a case) she slips into The Manner Born. And it’s been a long hard process puzzling out how much of the infinite lessons she can keep and use for good, and which she must discard. (For example, she’s certainly in no hurry to abandon her taste for the finer things in life, and if you’re going to make a life out of chasing down criminals, there are worse things than being a trained fencer.) No matter what she does, she’s always going to be a lady. She just hopes to become a true gentlewoman, rather than the paradoxical people-pleasing snob her parents were raising. Her biggest progress has come in the form of letting go of any residual feelings of superiority, and becoming less and less afraid to have and state her own thoughts and opinions, no matter who does and doesn’t agree with them. She’s working on that. Slowly.

Relationships

So, like I said, the endgame here is a full-on, everybody x everybody else poly situation. But even though they (eventually) think of themselves as a foursome, with no one pairing getting any precedence but rather the four of them being a group, it is true that within that group, there are six pairs, and each individual pair is strong enough that (if I may be morbid) if any two of them died, the remaining two would stay together. So here is a summary of each of the pairs.

Fred/Daphne: Ah, the classic pair. It’s a cliché, perhaps, but they really do have plenty to bond over.They both struggle with the weight of parental expectations, they both have a flair for personal style, and heaven knows they look good together. They spend a lot of time talking to each other and helping each other with the problems that come from their parents’ respective demands, but they also have a lot of fun enjoying together the more “preppy” things that Shaggy and Velma don’t like so much.

Shaggy/Velma: The other cliché, mostly a result of pairing the spares. However, it has its legitimate reasons to exist as well. Their senses of humor complement each other; Shaggy’s more overt clowning works well with Velma’s snark. As the two more “alternative” members of the gang, they also make sense as a couple in public. Shaggy’s earnestness, empathy and sillieness can help get past Velma’s shell, and her no-nonsense practicality can often help to calm his nerves.

Daphne/Velma: The third most popular pairing (or possibly even the second, however much I might want to kid myself about the ubiquity of my childhood OTP). On some level, Velma may be put off by (and might also envy) Daphne’s beauty and grace, but she can’t help but also be drawn to it, and be constantly delighted to find the intelligence underneath. Daphne, for her part, loves Velma for her intelligence, and is amazed by her forthrightness and assertiveness. In addition, Daphne has decided that Velma’s low estimation of her own desirability is unacceptable, and has taken it upon herself to shower her with all the attention she should have been getting all these years. She’s been put on enough pedestals of her own to know how to construct one for someone else, and has thrown herself wholeheartedly into singing “Dulcinea” under Velma’s metaphorical window. Velma’s reaction to this is...complex (which is to say, she would like to just let herself enjoy it, but can’t entirely shut off her reflexive cynicism).

Fred/Shaggy: They don’t always talk very much, but that’s okay. They enjoy the quiet. Shaggy appreciates having a leader-type around, and Fred takes comfort in Shaggy’s utterly accepting nature.

Fred/Velma: In some ways, they can get competitive, but it’s never vitriolic. It’s just that she’s never been one to hide her light under a bushel, and Fred’s reaction to how impressed he is with her is to want to impress her by trying to match up to her, and she respects him enough to not talk down to him or slow up so he can catch up, and so it spirals. She shows more and more skill at investigating and figuring out who the culprit is; he refines his plans and traps more and more. That’s why it so often seems ambiguous whether Fred or Velma is the leader; they’re sparring over the title.

Daphne/Shaggy: Well, he can’t help but be a little awed that such an obvious princess is into a guy like him. And he’s so unlike the boys shes used to that she can’t get enough of him. Their differences only make them stronger. And with her Psychology degree, she may be the one most equipped to actually help him with his symptoms. No, she’s not a therapist, but at least she knows the technical terms for what’s happening, and may have a list of possible treatments. And she revels in how few expectations he has.

@scoobydooservicedog You’re getting tagged because part of this relates to what you do (and because you seem cool and I kinda want to know what you think)

#scooby doo #shaggy rogers #norville rogers #fred jones #daphne blake #velma dinkley #poly mystery inc #fraphne #shelma #velma x daphne #fred x shaggy #fred x velma #daphne x shaggy

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #333

“imaginary chain / the one you never break / seething all alone”

Do you have any fears you would rarely admit to anyone? Nah, I'm pretty open about what I'm afraid of. What website do you spend most of your time on? YouTube. What class in high school did you struggle with the most? I honestly don't remember with certainty, but it was probably math or economics. At least, I think econ was my senior year. What could you talk about for hours? Mark, meerkats, a few game franchises... maybe a couple more topics. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you have a Steam account? Yeah, but I don't have many games on there and rarely touch the ones I do. Do you like gaming? I do, but not as much as I did for most of my life. I mostly just play WoW now, and even that I'm not that into anymore. Part of it though comes from not buying any new games that I'm interested in because 1.) no money and 2.) no proper console, and you can only replay games so many times before you're just... yeah, done. Do you like reading books? Some days. Do you like religion? All things considered? No. Do you like Grand Theft Auto V? Y'know, growing up, I actually liked watching my younger neighbor play one of those games, but I don't remember which. Though he never actually "played" it... just ran around wreaking havoc, lol. I do however think GTAV was the one that Jason and Jacob started playing together when we moved into the apartment, and I thought the story was okay; I don't think they ever got far into it, though. Definitely wasn't Jason's sort of game, and I don't think it was too much up Jacob's alley, either. Can you twerk? I haven't tried and you will never see me try either, lmao. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes, but I almost never use it. If the last person you kissed tried to kiss you again, would you start kissing them back? Yes. If your best friend of the opposite sex tried to kiss you, would you start kissing them back? No. Have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated? Yes, because of how badly she hurt him. I don't have any negative feelings towards her now, though. We're actually friends, haha. The irony. Are you an easy lay? What weird wording. But whatever, quite the polar opposite actually. When’s the last time you said you were sorry? A few days ago. Are there any songs you listen to everyday? No. Would you like living on the coast? As someone who lives in a state hit by hurricanes usually every year and has seen the incredible damage they usually bring to the coast, no. I don't like the smell or gritty feel of salty air, either. When’s the last time you were really late to something? No idea. That's usually not a problem with me. Why did you stop liking the last person you liked? The last person I actually stopped like-liking would be Girt, and that would be because I just came to the realization I saw him too much as my brother instead of boyfriend. It just always felt awkward. Do you still talk to that person? Yeah, we're good. No hard feelings or anything between us. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? No. Do you trust easily? Fuck no. I'll be cautious, at least to some degree, about new people for a while. What is the last song to make you cry? Since I've actually behaved and not listened to any trigger songs, it's been a long while, but it was probably "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Last person you hung up on? I'm sure some automated message. I barely ever answer the phone to numbers I don't recognize, though. Where was your last car ride to and from? To Wal-Mart w/ Mom to pick up our order and then back home. Next big outing? *shrug* Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not really, no. Considering I'm by far my most authentic self online, I actually tend to appreciate virtual friends more, if I'm being honest. I try to keep up with those people. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not really, no. I think I saw Warcraft the day it came into theaters, though. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yep. Tragic romance tends to do it the most, I think. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have one to track my menstrual cycle as well as another that tracks my daily caloric intake, but I'm bad at using it because it's tedious if I actually have to measure something. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Ummm if you mean like, in general, probably my mom's. But this most certainly depends on the subject I'm taking feedback on. What is something society "expects" you to do that you don't want to do and/or don't plan on doing? Shaving my legs came to mind first. Granted, I will if there is almost any chance of someone seeing them, but otherwise, I just don't care. We respect women with body hair on this account and see them as no less feminine. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you're drawn to? I think it's cool, yeah. I should have an answer for this, given architecture was a massive focus in Art History the last time I was in school... Roman architecture comes to my head first, if that says anything. What was one of your favorite things from the nineties? BOY OH BOY, SO MUCH!! I'm probably gonna say the toys. There was some dope shit, man. Do you collect things pertaining to an animal? ANYTHING and EVERYTHING featuring a meerkat!!!!! :''') Do you wish that people were kinder to spiders? Well, yes. I hope everyone in their heart wishes this, even if they're afraid of them. They're very important to our ecosystem, and none are out there to harm us; their existence does us a favor. Where do you normally order pizza from? Domino's (my favorite) or LIttle Caesar's for the price. Did your parents keep anything of yours from when you were a baby? Oh yes, loads of stuff that's stored away somewhere. Do you own one of those "____ For Dummies" books? No, but I feel like we had one at some point? What was the last VHS tape that you watched? Yikes, who knows. Did you watch Boy Meets World back in the day? I actually didn't, no. Our old neighbor though loved it so much that she named her daughter Tapanga (deliberately spelled that way). Who is your favorite Scooby Doo character? I never really had one. Maybe Thelma. If I were to give you a coloring book, what would you want its theme to be? Animals. Have you ever won a stuffed animal at a carnival? Possibly a small one. I can tell you I did however accidentally stab the guy who ran the dart-throwing booth though, lmfao. He was obviously fine, and it wasn't a bad wound. I felt SOOOOOO bad. Are you a fan of narwhals? I'm a fan of any animal. Narwhals are definitely fascinating creatures. Grape or orange soda? Orange. Grape-flavored soda ain't my thing. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so painstakingly boring and repetitive. Did you have a favorite Disney movie as a child? It was and still is The Lion King. Do you or have you ever owned a portable gaming console? Yeah, a GameBoy Advance and Nintendo DS. Is shyness cute? It definitely can be. Have you ever had alcohol poisoning before? No. Do you like to gossip, or do you prefer to keep your mouth shut? I'm not a gossip fan. Have you ever vandalized someone else’s property before? Most definitely not. Are your parents divorced? Yes. Have you ever been under suicide watch for 72 hours in a psychiatric ward? Yes; at least here, that's protocol when you're admitted for suicidal thoughts/tendencies. Have you ever gone through your significant other’s phone or social media accounts, or do you respect their privacy? Absolutely not. That shit pisses me off so badly. Do you wear any sort of clothing for religious reasons? No. What's something you worked extremely hard to get? My sanity back. Sounds so dramatic, but I'm literally not kidding. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I remember. How many kids do you want to have? I don't want kids, but to entertain the question, when I did, I wanted three. It's fuckin wild to imagine for even a second that I once wanted that. Do you believe that being gay is a sin? *eye roll* Are you any good at photography? If so, what’s your specialty? I mean it with modesty, but I think I'm pretty good. My favorite thing to photograph are animals, but I generally take most pictures of people by request or pay. Judging by my deviantART account, my nature pics definitely get the most attention. Have you ever been a member of a gang before? Fuckin yikes, no. An infamous gang tried breaking into my childhood home once, so you can probably gather that I would never take part in their "big bad guys" bullshit. Have you ever felt like you were neither male nor female? No, I'm comfortable as a cisgender female. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? NO. Anything with raisins = NO. Do you think you’re attractive? No. Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No, not that I really passed notes to begin with. I'd be mortified, regardless of what it was about. Would you rather live in a tropical or arctic climate? Arctic. Do you have an older brother? Yes. He's technically my half-brother, but I don't see "half"s. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Are your collarbones prominent? Bitch I wish so I could get the damn dermal piercings I've wanted for years. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? As a kid, yeah. So ugly. Do you love yourself? It's... weird. Therapy is making me realize that a part of me, maybe even the bigger one, doesn't, but at the exact same time, I know I have worth just like every other human. I just don't treat myself like I do. What TV shows do you keep up with? None, until Meerkat Manor returns this summer. :') When’s the last time it snowed where you live? A couple months ago we got a little bit of it. Is your belly button pierced? No, but it would be if I was actually skinny. Just in my personal opinion, I don't at all think that that piercing would look nice on someone as overweight as me. Even if my damn dreams come true and I lose all the weight I want, my stomach will never look "normal," even after I get the excess skin removal surgery that will be very high on my priority list for my own self-image that's been nothing but loathsome since 2016. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is the obvious answer. What do you remember the most about your childhood? Lots of imagination. Parents arguing. Playing with my little sister. What age did you get your first hair cut? I have no idea. Do you have a favourite toy from childhood still? No. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of it. Have you ever made bread? No. Would you ever consider shaving your head? Nah. Would you like to live in a realm where the zombie apocalypse is possible? Who says we don't now? Zombifying parasites already exist among insects and such, so like... it's not unimaginable to one day see one developed enough to infect humans. I sure as fuck hope not, but. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have a dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I did this many, many months ago, but I guess watch an episode of The Witcher by my own volition. I don't really do spontaneous things with how routine I am, but I had a random urge to check it out one morning. How loud can you whistle? Not very loud at all. Does anything on your body hurt or itch right now? My knees really hurt. They're getting worse. When was the last time you built a sandcastle? There's noooo telling, it's been many years. Have you ever ridden a mechanical bull? No. Well, not a *real* one, anyway. Just the little ones for kids. If you had to appear on a game show, which one would you choose? Family Feud. What is your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Food: Are you adventurous or do you stick to what you know? I absolutely stick to what I know. I am SO picky. Is there anything (out of the obvious) that makes you feel really ill? I'm not immediately sure, but there's probably something. Do you bump into things often? Yes. I've always had this weird habit of like... drifting when I walk, so I do this easily. I just kinda wander to the sides a bit without realizing it. What design is on your calendar this year? I don't have a current one. Did you enjoy playing Hop Scotch when you were younger? I did. Do you feel uncomfortable going to the movies by yourself? Nah, not really. I did that with Warcraft and it was actually pretty chill. When thinking about your dream home, what do you think would be your favorite thing to shop for? The ~g o t h i c~ decor. Do you ever listen to those lo-fi hip hop/study music playlists on YouTube/Spotify? No. Are you likelier to work harder if you’re being paid? If not, what drives you to give your best effort? I mean, yeah. I'd assume that's pretty normal. Does the fashion sense of a potential partner matter to you? No. Is there anything that you prefer to write down rather than type? I'm unsure. If you download/torrent things, do you remember the first thing you ever torrented? Oh, the Limewire days of music pirating... but no, I don't remember. What was the last thing you posted on Instagram? Something photography-related, but I don't feel like checking. What do you wish your hair looked like? I wish I could pull off pastel pink hair rn. It also desperately needs a trim. Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? I'm sure I always will, at least a little. Do you get any magazines in the mail? No. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Uhhhhh have I? I don't think so. Who’d you last see in a tux? Probably the groom of the last wedding I shot. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No, but I used to do that big time because I loved "rewatching" stuff when I was on the computer. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mother, big time. Who’s the bravest person you know? Also my mother. Or Sara. What profession do you admire the most? Teachers might just win. The patience that must take, among so many other things. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''bornless'' by 3teeth

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scar0tissue · 4 years

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Something I want to talk about: Scooby Doo!

I can not express enough how much I love this franchise. I grew up with it and I still get giddy when the theme song comes on, for me it is a amazing package of my childhood sent right back to me whenether I see the gang. But what I want to focus on with the new movie out are exactly that, the movies. I love these movies. But I will say that some of them are less than worth a watch: so as a self proclaimed Scooby Doo enthusiast I will give short (and bad) reviews based on my memory of them and tell you whether I think they're worth a watch. By the way , this is in no particular order. And this will also probably not contain every movie, just the ones I have memory of.

NOTE: these are my opinions, these are based on my experience and what they are like to me.

1. Zombie Island: (I know I said in no particular order, but I had to put in my top 3).what a place to start, a fantastic movie that captures the feeling a Scooby Doo movie should have. Unlike most Scooby Doo movies this one is actually on the scarier side of things, there is a real sense that things may go wrong for the gang and it is a good spice up of the regular formula Scooby Doo has. I say that this movie is well worth a watch.

2. The Witches Ghost: I don't actually know if this followed the zombie Island chronologically or by release, but for me it always felt like the next movie to watch. The opening sequence to this movie always takes me back to when I was a child and would by at my grandmother's house and we would watch this. The movie is very interesting with more plot twists than your average Scooby Doo episode. It is in my opinion on par with zombie Island. Once again I say this movie is well worth a watch.

3. Pirates Ahoy!: Oh the memories with this. If you ever want a pure example of a great Scooby Doo movie, look no further than this pirate themed adventure. It has everything zombies, pirates , and Scooby and shaggy dancing like chickens. It also has one of my favourite side characters in the form of the scientist that comes aboard. I don't want to spoil any of this movie as I would put this near top spot. If you want to watch any Scooby Doo movie , watch this and get to scrubbing the deck ya sea dogs.

The Loch Ness Monster: this movie ,while not my absolute favourite, holds a special place in my heart as it is the closest I beleive a Scooby Doo movie has ever been to where I live. It takes the classic legend of the loch Ness, and manages to make a mystery movie that can only be described as amazing. Definetly a good watch.

Where's my Mummy: it knows what it is , it has asthetic (did I spell it right?) It has pyramids, sand , mummy's , Pharos, and more. Worth a watch and honestly a cut above the rest.

Aloha, Scooby Doo: I would once again say the same as with the previous review. It knows what it is , the dancing, the volcanos and the surfing. A regular old mystery with that extra volcano god/demon mixed in. worth a watch.

The samurai sword: Robo ghost samurais, do I need say any more? Watch it.

Alien Invaders: Ok, this is a very interesting movie. The design of the aliens as well as the whole setting makes for a great movie. It has good pacing and also a better love story than twilight. Worth a watch.

Monster of Mexico: watch this, it may be old, but watch it. It is an absolutely fantastic price of media that encapsulates what Scooby Doo is at its core. The gang going somewhere nice just to find themselves slap bang in the middle of a regular old mystery. Worth a watch.

Chill Out Scooby Doo: do you know what surprised me , is the amount of winter/snow based movies in the Scooby Doo franchise. But I will say this one stands out. It is interesting and good to watch. I would say it's worth a watch.

Goblin King: goblins , ghouls and whatever creepy will pop up in this movie , creepy and fun, definetly a good watch. Especially the end.

Abracadabra Doo: this is what I think was the high point of Scooby Doo was in the 2010's before mystery incorporated came out. This was a good movie which mixed magic, mythology, and mystery together well. A really good watch, but I can see how some may not like it.

Legend of the Phantasaur: Dino's and bikers , all against shaggy. Who will win, great movie, worth a watch if your devoted enough, but may be a bore for some people.

Cyber Chase: cyber Chase is more like a fan fiction than anything else, it is fan service. You see some fan favourite monsters, the gang teams up with a parallel version of themselves and it comes to a climax. It is a good watch for nostalgia, but I would say it may not look the best to people that don't have all that many memories of Scooby Doo.

Camp Scare: this , for me, perfectly embodies the old tradition of a summer camp, at least idealised. The end is an amazing watch and it has a pretty good feel for most of it. Especially Fred with his never ending optimism. Worth a watch. But like me, may not be the best if you have bad memories of summer camp.

Too be completely honest, most movies past this point in the animated section are boring or downright bad. But there may be hope with a Scooby Doo movie with king Arthur coming out this year.

Honourable Mentions for animated movies:

Music of the vampire.

Legend of the vampire.

Big top.

Stage Fright.

Wrestlmania mystery.

In this list I have put the ones on dvd I remember, but I do remember also some VHS ones that I don't know If you can or can't get them today. But all of them are worth watching, these are: Boo Brothers , ghoul school, the reluctant werewolf, and Arabian Nights.

Now live action.

These movies I would say are more comedy's than anything else. While they do have touching moments , you'll probably find yourself laughing more than anything else. So here we go:

Scooby Doo: an island with weird monster people and bad CGI? Sign me up. A good watch but as I mentioned earlier, more so for the comedy.

Scooby Doo 2, Monsters Unleashed: actually a good movie, good villains and genuinely good moments. The effects I would say are better than the first one and the characters it introduces are pretty good. Also Daphne sasses everyone. Definitely worth a watch.

Scooby Doo! The Mystery begins + Curse of the lake monster: I have grouped these both into one because I just think they're bad, I watched them for free on Amazon and I still think I need money back. They are nothing compared to the original live action. Also , Fred is a brunette , how did nobody seem to realise this while making this. Not worth watching.

Once again, post 2015 nothing was really worth watching, but I can't speak for the live action Daphne and Velma movie, I don't even know if this can be classified as a Scooby Doo movie because I dont beleive he's in it. But I have not watched it and therefore cant give a proper review for it. So for the sake of simplicity, I will say it's worth a watch.

I think this wraps this up. I am in no way a professional reviewer, I am just someone who likes Scooby Doo , a lot. I don't own any of the images in this post.

Stay home and stay safe, much love my friends.

Best wishes.

#scooby doo #shaggy and scooby #mystery inc #movies #reveiw #movie reviews #what am i doing with myslef so late at night #is this real #stay safe #the ever growing fear of age overtakes me #are you really reading all the tags?#good on you #thank you

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stardustpinkart · 4 years

Photo

Link to the Kickstarter

Woah, what's the deal, here!?

Well I guess I'll tell you ^^ This is a manga that shouts back to those old "Monsters as people" stories that have been common over the years. "The Addams Family", "Gravedale High", even "Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School".

Partly what Im exicted about, is most ideas I came up with I was still a kid. The world has vastly changed them? Its weird looking back XD Especially comics and animation? Homosexuality is a regular thing in cartoons aimed for younger audeinces. Do you think that would ever get past the censors before?

Media explores more emotion, diffrent people, more unusual subjects. It feels like theres so much more potential today than 20 years ago?

And that excites me, because, some natural changes I feel have come for the ideas I had when I was 13 or so, that wouldve never crossed my mind before. Give the characters more depth and interesting backgrounds. Im exciting to draw how theyve evolved on there own. In a weird way, I'm glad I started more mainstream drawing of stories NOW then then, when I dident know shit. Thought maybe I still dont exaclty XD Heh

The main cast is six, 3 boys and 3 girls, BUT the story wont just focus on them. I hope to mix it up and have it focus on those in the class too. Have a vairety of focus, like how South Park doesnet always focus on the four boys? Since its creation its grown to have a lot of side characters and you found out more about them and there backstories.

Part of the reason I ask for funding is because it gives me more time to actually work, especially if my anxieties are at ease. That I dont havta worry about food or electricty, phone bill, wifi, etc etc

I had to move into my first proper flat recently, and as a result, money was tighter than ever due to the furniture I had to buy. Everything was provided for when I was living in the hostel. So neccesary objects like a fridge and bed? Own pocket and credit.

So, thats one reason I could use the funding, pay of my debts, take a load off my mind.

Creating art, creating a comic is extremely stressful and it can be hard getting it done for many reasons. Mental health, lack of time, being unable to afford materials. If my laptop somehow dies or my tablet stops working for example. Be in a serious mess then. Funds certainly make a lot of the above easier, allowing me more time to work, and less pressured, thus less stressed.

Link to the Kickstarter

#kickstarter #kickstarter campaign #monster kids #the addams family #gravedale high #invader zim #ghoul #monsters #donation #webcomic #comic #manga #webomic #funding

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thenightling · 5 years

Text

Vampires with pointed ears

A few years ago when IMVU had proper forums, someone posted a pet peeve that struck me. The person had said “I don’t like vampires with pointed ears. They’re not elves!”

But... Vampires usually do have pointed ears! And I happen to like vampires with pointed ears. In may works of fiction Dracula is depicted with pointed ears, including in the original Dracula novel by Bram Stoker.

“For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed.“ - Jonathan Harker in Dracula by Bram Stoker.

Dracula in Castlevania:

Dracula in Marvel Comics:

Dracula in Dracula: The Company of Monsters.

Gary Oldman as Dracula.(you can’t see his ears too well in his younger form.)

Monster High.

Hotel Transylvania.

Dracula: The Unconquered

Van Helsing

Love at first bite.

Hellsing.

Dario Argento’s Dracula

Dracula: Sovereign of the Damned

Monster squad.

Scooby Doo and the reluctant werewolf

Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School (Note in these two mentioned Scooby Doo animated movies the monsters are real, not people in costume.)

Dracula as depicted in Fred Saberhagen’s Dracula novels. Here (though blurry and small) is an image from the cover of the novel An Old friend of The family.

Other notable vampires with pointed ears include:

Count Orlock (from the film Nosferatu.

Morgan as depicted on a cover of Fred Saberhagen’s An Old Friend of the Family.

Barnabas and Josette in the 2012 version of Dark Shadows. (their ears are enlarged and have a slight point.)

The Baron in What we do in The Shadows.

The Master in Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

Vampire in Brooklyn.

David in Lost Boys. (And yes, he has them even when not in “Vampire game face.’)

Jerry Dandridge in Fright Night (1985). Usually the tips are hidden in Jerry’s very curly hair. I am not sure he should count here since in the novelization of Fright Night it was implied that Jerry actually IS Dracula. So I probably should have put him in the pointy eared Dracula list.

All the vampires of Castlevania including Carmilla and Godbrand but Carmilla’s ears are usually hidden behind her hair.

Draculaura in Monster High.

Morbius from Marvel Comics.

Nina Price AKA Vampire by Night in Marvel comics. Actually all the vampires in Marvel have pointed ears.

The Brides in Van Helsing. But you can only really see their ears when they’re flying around in woman-bat form.

So yes, vampires are often depicted with pointed ears. I’m often amazed how many people don’t seem to realize this.

You may also note Dracula usually has sharp claw-like nails that are often depicted as retractable, like a cat’s claws.

Also, Dracula does NOT hate wolves. He’s very fond of them. Everyone remembers “Children of the Night! What music they make!” but forget the context. He can turn into a wolf at will (as well as a bat and mist). And no, he is not vulnerable to “werewolf venom.” I am still annoyed at the movie Van Helsing and Vampire Diaries for perpetuating this idea...

#Vampires #Vampire Fiction #Dracula #Count Dracula #IMVU #IMVU RP #IMVU RPG #Castlevania

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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years

Text

Tiffany Green and the Monster at the End of the Hall

Genre: supernatural thriller/monster story, wlw

Rating: M for monster-related violence

Words: 12.8k

Summary: Tiffany Green has watched too many scooby doo episodes and now she’s trying find the local monster at the motel her mother works.

Too bad there’s a rival monster hunter in the area.

Patreon ⭐ Ko-Fi ⭐ WordPress ⭐ Twitter

warning: for serious injury, blood, and fatalities

Tiffany Green sat crossed-legged with a transistor radio in her lap and the bud of one headphone in her ear, she stuck her tongue out a little bit and squinted into the dark.

The space was cramped, four walls on all sides brushing against her, barely fitting all of her knees and elbows- which her aunt joked was 70% of her to begin with. The carpet underneath was thick as sin and smelled of must and the death of the 1980s, a mini-ironing board was pushed to the side on her right.

She wore a large brown bomber jacket that’s sleeves pooled around her wrists and made her neck sweat. Her lank blonde hair fell down past her shoulders, which she tucked it into her jacket to keep it back, though her fringe bangs in turn fell into her eyes more than a couple times anyway.

She had long limbs, knobby elbows, and an almost sickly pallor that her father called ‘the antithesis of California darling.’ Her eyes were a flat grey that sometimes shifted into being a proper blue.

She wore stark white shorts and a peach tank-top with spaghetti straps that teacher’s traditionally didn’t appreciate. She had notably ‘attentive’ large ears with three different earrings in each, a sun, a moon, and several stars attached by thin silver chains. She hummed as she worked.

“And she’s a maniac, maniac, on the floor.” She sang softly to herself and hunched over the buttons of the old radio. The speakers droned from one station to the next.

“--It’s going to be another scorcher-”

“-you’ll have to bury your head in the sand to ignore this ne--”

‘--I wanted you so bad, before I you came into my life I-”

“--a dan--”

“--up--”

“--as--” Tiffany shook the radio in midair and crunched herself up in a ball around it, “just one good signal,” she pinched her lips together, “come to mama.” She kept turning the knob until the radio went completely silent, channel 98.3, a sudden, inexplicable hush erupted from the other end. She paused, heart tumbling down her throat and eyes going wide. She ripped her earbud out and stuffed into her pocket, she leaned forward.

Her knuckles bleached as she held the radio harder and stuck her face up to the dials. “Hello…?”

Static warbled through the signal, a sudden buzz that sizzled through the air and made the hairs on her arm stand on end, her mouth fell open. “Tell me what you want.” She whispered.

The static increased, like it was singing. Tiffany shook her radio, “Tell me why you’re doing this.”

The static crooned into a soft hum, she held her breath, waiting for something. The silence stretched.

“Oh. No.” A voice huffed, “Tiffany!”

Tiffany jumped violently as another voice called out.

“Tiffany,” banging came from the other side of the door, “young lady!”

Tiffany flattened against the wall as light came flooding in from the entrance, she hissed at the intrusion, “noooo!” She cried with a sharp soprano.

A scowling face loomed over her, blocking the door, her mom put her hands on her hips and frowned deeply. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.”

Her mom was a medium-sized woman with wide hips and curly brown hair that was tied back by a thick white handkerchief. She wore practical shoes, practical jeans, a blue t-shirt reading ‘Anne’s’ on the front, and a single simple necklace with a ruby in the center.

Her face was wide and expressive, she had matching ears to Tiffany’s- though they were slightly less adorned.

Tiffany glowered up at her and held the radio up to her ear, she closed her eyes and waited for the static again. “Ugh!” She cried loudly, “mom, do you realize you just interrupted the find of the century?” Her mom groaned and held her head, “out, out, we need this room cleaned an hour ago.” Tiffany tucked her loose bangs behind her ear and sat up straight, “why? Nobodies here.” Her mom wagged a finger in the air, “if you’d like me out of a job and no dinner on the table then this room is cleaned by 12pm.” She gave her a sharp glance, “no hiding in the hotel closets and listening to music.” Her mom ushered to her feet and Tiffany huffed.

“I wasn’t listening to music, I was-” “Looking for aliens,” her mom sighed deeply. “Tiffany. Please, honey. I love you. But you have to come out.” Tiffany could have broken into a guffawing-laugh at that, but instead settled for a deep groan .

“It’s a monster mom. M. O. N. S- I mean, you get the point. Not an alien.”

“It’s not going to have to deal with an angry mom if it doesn’t get a move on.” Tiffany promptly scuffled out the closet, eyes down, “the owners will thank me when we aren’t considered the most haunted motel on route 78.”

Her mom tutted again, “we aren’t haunted.” She paused as she reached for the sheets to clean and launder, “we’re just… unlucky.” Tiffany sighed deeply, “I’m going to go try to commune in another room.” “No closets.” She called after her, “and no bothering Mr. Thomas.” “I hear you,” she waved her hand in the air as she stalked off. “I can’t believe that girl is almost 20.” She could hear her mom muttering as she started busily folding and scrubbing and getting down to business.

Anne’s Roadside Motel was a two-story building with around 120 rooms in 30,000 square feet, the place had two owners- neither of which were Anne. It had mattresses people checked for bedbugs and small televisions from the early 00s in place.

The motel had a staff of around 25 people, all of which Mr. Thomas liked to keep a personal relationship with, Rowing was not a big town. It’s main source of income was the highway and the highway was trying it’s best ‘not to become a low-way’ as Mrs. Rodriguez joked.

South Dakota hadn’t bothered to fix roads up in this part of nowhere in a while, it wasn’t close enough to the oil fields and was just south enough of ‘who gives a fuck.’

Tiffany hadn’t been back to this town in 2 years, instead living with her dad in Northern Cali in order to graduate from a ‘good high school.’ Tiffany took the 10 hour car-trip after throwing her cap and had been sitting in closets with a radio since.

Anne’s Roadside Motel didn’t have an Anne in it, but it had a brother and sister that installed a pool 2 years ago and discretely set up rat-traps to really spruce up the place. That was until the rumors started going around, the ones in the newspapers and murmured on the TV screen. Anne’s was having a string of ‘bad luck.’

It looked normal enough, with green flooring and yellow wallpaper, a muted yellow, the type of yellow that bridged on giving you a headache but didn’t quite get there. It smelled like chlorine and wheat, but there were worse smells out there.

The lights were low-hanging and mirrors were from the 90s, the tables were all wooden and the pictures were of random rolling purple mountains that was somewhere definitely not South Dakota.

Breakfast was at 7 every morning and Tiffany got there usually at 7:30 to snag the ‘better bagels’ and some burnt coffee. The other staff liked her, but maybe that’s just what she told herself.

And maybe it’s because she was the only one allowed to talk them about the incidents. Anne’s Roadside Motel was two-stories and 120 rooms.

Tiffany Green planned to visit every single one, and maybe prevent anyone else from dying here.

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

Tiffany was sitting in a swivel chair, making lazy little circles in place and balancing a pencil between her fingertips. She tapped her white sneakers in the air as she splaid out sideways. A woman in a busy red suit jacket and slightly too-tight matching skirt sat next to her in a smaller swivel chair. They lounged just out of sight behind a long linoleum desk with a little bell on it. Tiffany kept her eyes trained on her, trying to catch her eye.

“So,” Tiffany finally said and jerked her head toward the plump middle-aged woman beside her, “last Saturday.” Mrs. Candice Marx gave her a bemused look, “you want more?” Tiffany turned completed toward her, “as much as you remember.” Mrs. Marx, no relation to Karl, looked left and then right before leaning toward her, maybelline bright lipstick puckering, “you know Mr. Thomas isn’t too keen on us gabbing about it.” Tiffany sprouted a slow smile. “I won’t tell ‘em if you don’t.” She sat up straight and a jabbed a pencil in Mrs. Marx’s general direction, “someone has to stop this trouble.” Her blue eyes light up, Mrs. Marx read a lot of detective novels. She bent down, “It’s not all that much to go off of.” Her plush red lips are making a perfect ‘o.’

Tiffany gave her a thumbs up and grabbed her pencil a little more firmly, putting it down to paper. “Whatever you have, whenever you’re ready.”

She cleared her throat, “Well, okay, if you’re interested.”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, trying to edge her on. Mrs. Marx touched her blonde bob, primping it, as if she was being interviewed for local day time TV, “Danny was staying at Elsa’s so I agreed to do the nighter, it was Saturday, last Saturday. Ms. Thomas is having us do the late reception for real you know. She’s a real… well, she’s a real go-getter. Going to improve the stains in the reception hall next she said.” “Uh-huh,” Tiffany focused on scribbling nothing very meticulously.

Mrs. Marx tilted her head to the side, “I was just resting my eyes for a moment-” “When?” Tiffany started really writing.

“Oh, I’d say around 2am? Maybe a little sooner.” She snorted, “We weren’t gettin’ any calls, except from crackpots asking about setting up seances here. You know Mr. Thomas won’t have any of that- he’s not into that type of money Clyde says.”

Tiffany tried to keep her expression blank, “What happened next?” She twisted her mouth, “well, no phone calls. I was sittin’ right here, I don’t know really what it was, some sorta noise-” “What type of noise?” Tiffany sat completely upright. “A buzzing?” Mrs. Marx scrunched her nose up, “no, maybe, it was sorta… crunchy? I was drifted off, all I remember next is just waking up, don’t really know why. One moment I was lying in the chair, and the next I was upright and lookin’ at the lobby.” Tiffany leaned forward, “What did you see?” Mrs. Marx bent down very low, her caked-on mascara almost close enough to brush her, “That’s just the thing.” She breathed, “everything. It was bright, too bright, you know? All the lights turned on.” Tiffany nodded fastidiously, “What did you do?” “Well,” Mrs. Marx flattened her skirt out, “I thought of high-tailin’ it out of there, don’t want to end up like poor Mr. Koviak.” “Yes, absolutely,” Tiffany was jotting quickly: noise, lights, waking up.

“There was this real… feel to it too. Like something cold, or like a headache, right before the pain part.” “K,” Tiffany furrowed her brow: headache?

“The lights were all on, even the ones that are motion activated,” Mrs. Marx’s eyes were wide, “but only in the left hallway.” She pointed, “Right over there.” “What did you do?” Tiffany adrenaline flooded her, “What did you see?” “Well what was there to do? I-” A bell dinged. Tiffany gripped her pencil so hard she’s afraid it might break in two, light footsteps approached.

“Excuse me,” A rich voice called out. “Are there any rooms for tonight?” Mrs. Marx and Tiffany turned toward the lobby in unison, Mrs. Marx immediately burst into a practiced smile. “Of course!” She pushed her rolling chair toward the desk and sat up straight. “What can we do you for?” The customer was a young woman with long brown hair, it had a sleek shine to it but was choppy and uneven in parts, as if someone just hacked at it a couple times. She had high cheekbones, an oval face, and lightly browned skin- native probably, from one of the local tribes.

Her eyes were dark half-moons and her lips were turned down in a grimace, she seemed a little taller than Tiffany. She was wearing a green shirt that reminded her of the military and was carrying a large duffel bag on her shoulder.

Her teeth were stunningly straight and white when she spoke and Tiffany had to lean back from the glare of them. Tiffany hunched her shoulders like a cat sprayed by water as the stranger interrupted them.

I was so close, Tiffany clenched her teeth and pedaled up to the desk next to Mrs. Marx. She was chattering away.

“So there’s bedrooms in the west wing, but not the east right now, but the sunrise in the west windows is just to die for. You can see right all the way to Black Elk Peak, have you been there darling?” “Can’t say I have ma’am.” Her voice was still low and steady, Tiffany eyed her big bag. Something was different about this. “Well it’s just lovely. Especially from the west wing windows!”

“What brings you around here?” Tiffany interrupted, she could feel her mom cringing at her from rooms away.

The young woman raised her eyebrows and refocused on Tiffany, “Just passing through.” Mrs. Marx nodded, “Most folks are.” She agreed, “A real travelers town.” She gave a small laugh, “My own Ricky, that’s my husband, was only passing through when I met him! Said he’d never stay, but look at him now- a curmudgeon with a house in the hills.” Tiffany snorted at that, but the woman just arched her eyebrow up, “sounds nice.” “Oh it is,” Mrs. Marx could go on, but I thought I’d spare the traveler a little.

“Well alright,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “As long as you’re not here for any ghost-snooping, Mr. Thomas is telling Spook Hunters to stay out.”

Mrs. Marx gave a nervous laugh, “I mean, it’s not all that.” “Oh,” the woman just cocked her head to the side, “Ghosts?” “No ghosts,” Mrs. Marx said quickly, “Bad local legends is all.” The woman leaned across the counter, “Should I be worried? I’m sure I could keep go-” “No, no,” Mrs. Marx shot Tiffany a sharp look. “Nothing of the sort, Tiffany here listens to… a lot of wacky podcasts! How long would you be staying with us?”

The woman relaxed, “Just two nights.” She said evenly, “you have internet, right?” “We have internet.” She nodded briefly and then eyed me, “And as long as no ghosts come out I suppose.” She gave a thin smile and took out her credit card. Tiffany leaned forward, “It’s not actually ghost, it’s probably a m-” “So credit card? What name should I put the room under?” The woman adjusted the bag on her shoulder, “Lona,” she said simply, “Davis.”

Mrs. Marx was already nodding and moving onto when breakfast was and the ‘no stealing our bath towels pretty please’ speech with at least two mom jokes.

Tiffany examined Lona again, her eyes dragging up and down. There was definitely something lumpy in the sack, and her boots were metal-toed, a circular tattoo was around her right wrist. And that probably wasn’t her real name.

Tiffany didn’t notice as the transaction completed.

“Have a wonderful stay at Anne’s!”

Lona gave Tiffany another curious look, “I will.” She turned and left, heading to the west wing.

Tiffany exhaled, putting a hand over her heart, then she whipped around to Mrs. Marx. “That’s a monster hunter!”

Mrs. Marx drew back, “What?” “The shirt, the bag, the boots! That girl is here to hunt the monster.” Mrs. Marx wrinkled her nose, “She seems just like everybody else. There’s all sorts that pass through, why, just last week we had a man who was a professional clown. He was dressed normal, but he told me all about at the counter. A traveling clown! Have you ever heard of-”

“Did you see that protection tattoo? She’s on the trail.” Tiffany was certain, a professional!

“Now Ms. Tiffany,” Mrs. Marx clucked, “you can’t make presumptions about someone. Especially,” she put her hands on her hips, “Customers.” “I know, I know, okay,” she waved her off, and tried to keep her theories on track, “we were talking about last Saturday first,” she kicked away from the desk, “I’m all ears.” Mrs. Marx’s eyes went wide again and she turned back to Tiffany, returning to their previous hunched position, “Well, all the lights were on-” “My fair Candice!” Another voice carried over to them, “And lovely young Tiffany.” Tiffany winced so hard she thought her heart dropped out of her ass, “Goddammit,” She cursed under her breath.

“I just saw a customer walking to room 200! A good sight.” They both turned to Mr. Thomas in unison, Mrs. Marx smiling through.

“Indeed!” She chirped, “and more than one night too.” Mr. Thomas just hummed at that and looked between us, “I hope everyone is keeping their wits sharp.” Mr. Thomas chuckled, he was a small man with a pointed mustache and crinkling boyish blue eyes under round glasses, he wore suits everywhere and shiny black shoes.

He also said very pointedly kind things that always translated to ‘keep working’ and ‘do your job already.’ This was his ‘keep working’ phrases right now.

Mrs. Marx shifted in place, “course we are! Sharp as a church point.” She winked, “Ms. Tiffany was just…” She glanced at my notepad. “Doing some schoolwork!” I nod despite the fact I had graduated highschool two weeks ago. Mr. Thomas smiled over like he was making a Christmas list, “Well if you’d like some hel-” “Actually!” Tiffany stood up, realizing she probably wasn’t going to get any more out of this. “Time for me to go. Let’s talk later.” She gave Mrs. Marx a meaningful look and she just nodded.

“And Tiffany,” Mr. Thomas called after her as she tried to quickly scurry away. “The rooms aren’t playthings.” That was one of his more blatant instructions and Tiffany was struck for a moment by feeling six and chastized by the neighbors for throwing things into their yard. She meet his eyes steadily. “Of course,” Tiffany flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and started walking, “I’m not playing.” She escaped to the second story ice machine room, cramming herself into the nook between vending machine and wall, she started to pour over her notes: noise, lights, wake up, headache?

Her thoughts dragged back to the girl at the counter and she wrote in the margins: monster hunters coming.

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

It was late afternoon, the sun was streaming in through the small box windows at the end of the hall and the AC was on full blast in the simmering heat of summer. Tiffany was holding her pencil up again.

“I know you haven’t talked about it yet Mrs. Ludwig,” She followed the back of bustling old woman in a long grey dress and white bandana tied around her head. “But I’m here to listen.” Mrs. Ludwig didn’t even look over her shoulder as she walked into room 203, it had just lost it’s occupant, a Mr. Virilis. Mr. Virilis moved to greener pastures and left them with only around 5 other customers in the whole motel that night. Two of them were semi-permanent residents at this point, so she wasn’t sure they counted anymore.

Tiffany tried to step in Mrs. Ludwig’s path and catch her eye, “Please, I know it’s a very traumatic experience. I’ve been through that before.” It felt like the five stages of grief as she attempted to bargain. “With all the, uh… blood? Was there blood?”

The Koviak case had been ‘confidential’ and no details, except the occurrence of the death, had been released to the public. He was a traveling European businessman found dead in his bed two months ago, nothing else known. Mrs. Ludwig still didn’t look at her as she got out the cleaning carrier and gloves, she pushed open the propped door with her hip and didn’t look back.

Tiffany steeled herself, she took a bold step forward, “Mr. Koviak’s family has been asking!”

Mrs. Ludwig paused, turned, and fixed her with a potent icy glare, “do you plan on helping me clean?” Tiffany grimaced, her left eyebrow twitching, “Yes! I could. If… we could just have a short chat about the body.” “Run along Tiffany Green.” Mrs. Ludwig closed the door behind her and left Tiffany in the empty hall. As she had all the other times before.

“Fiiine,” Tiffany groaned and did a little spin, dragging her feet down to the other end of the hallway. If she knew Mrs. Ludwig she wouldn’t get another word out of her for at least 24 hours.

Tiffany flipped through her notes again, the fluorescent lights blared overhead, she would have paid them to flicker at this point. Buzz. Do anything.

She walked blankly ahead and fretted quietly to herself. No leads. No knowledge. How did it get around? Was it large? Was it corporeal?

Did it hate motels or just those in southern South Dakota? She just didn’t know.

It wasn’t until she was in the next hall that she heard a whirring of a machine, Tiffany looked up sharply and her eyebrows raised. Someone was actually using the motel gym.

There was a giant glass panel in the middle of the west wing, second floor. It held one elliptical machine, five weights, three sets of bell bars, two exercise benches, three jogging machines, and a water cooler. It had a speckled tile floor and frosted rectangle windows that barely let in the light.

The elliptical machine was whirring round and round as someone took it through its paces. Tiffany slitted her eyes, she recognized the figure: lean and muscled, the girl had a long choppy ponytail and a tattoo around her right wrist.

Her.

Tiffany stood there longer than she rightfully should, watching the girl’s back get damp with sweat and muscles strain with every quick step. Tiffany was tempted to inform her that, according to her notes, this wasn’t the type of monster you can run from. Training wouldn’t matter.

She doubted that would go over well.

Tiffany was leaning toward the elevator, trying to get her body to remember itself and move, it didn’t. The girl paused, her legs slowly pumping to a stop and the machine grinding down, maybe she felt Tiffany eyeing her, she turned. Their eyes met, a little tingle went up Tiffany’s spine, Lona’s dark half-moon eyes search her.

She tilted her head, expression placid as she hopped down to the floor, unreadable, she didn’t break eye contact as she moved. They stare at each other as Lona reached for a towel and wiped down her wet brow. Tiffany bit her bottom lip, maybe she’s the monster.

That seemed unlikely.

Lona took her time walking casually up to the giant window pane, Tiffany stiffened, waiting for something. Lona pursed her lips, cocking her head to the side, still considering Tiffany.

Tiffany shifted in place, her skin crawling and neck prickling, she had a feeling her cheeks had already flushed red.

The girl’s face shifted quickly, mouth falling open, eyes widening, whole body reeling back from the window. Lona pointed wildly over Tiffany’s shoulder, ‘look out!’ She mouthed urgently, breathlessly, pupils dilated. Tiffany jumped, whirling around to look left and right, holding her heart, preparing to run.

Tiffany untensed when nothing is behind her except garish yellow wallpaper and her own thumping heartbeat.

She arranged her face into something stony and unamused, she clenched her hands and turned back to the glass. Lona was grinning.

Tiffany tapped on the glass and leaned forward, “You don’t know what you’re in for.” She mouthed the words slowly, “it’s coming.” Lona frowned at that and then shrugged, “I can’t understand you.” She called, voice muffled by the glass, but still legible.

“Oh.” Lona flipped her long hair back, “do you work here?” Tiffany took a few steps back, “No.” She called, just loud enough.

“Good,” Lona turned back to her elliptical machine, “go home for the night.” Tiffany arched an eyebrow, she took a deep breath, “I don’t think so, I’m going to be the one to find it you know.” Lona glanced over her shoulder again, “Excuse me?” “I know who you are,” Tiffany pronounced loudly, “And this one’s mine.” Lona rolled her eyes, “little dramatic, don’t you think?” She wiped her neck with the towel, “Go take a nap kid, you’re not making sense.” Tiffany growled and then turned on her heels, look out. She mouthed the words and blood boiled from being pranked like a five year old in a haunted house.

What a stupid act, stupid customer who is definitely a monster hunter. Tiffany stomped toward the elevator, thoughts frenzied and whirling. She barely stopped as the lights in the hallway flickered. She froze mid-stride and looked up, the lights flickered again.

She gaped and took out her pencil, wielding it like a spear. She searched the hallway, up and down. “I’m here!” She called breathlessly, “I’m here.” Her eyes stayed glued on the lights, but they remained shining and motionless. Tiffany gulped and squared her shoulders. When she looked around she saw Lona in the hallway too, she doesn’t look half as amused this time. They don’t so much as nod at each other as Tiffany departed.

I’ll find it first.

Tiffany promised herself she wasn’t going home that night.

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

“But mom,” Tiffany could feel herself whining, “I need to stay the night.” “Not on your life.” Her mom threatened, her curly dark hair tied back and mouth turned into a hard line. “Can’t you be into, I don’t know… boy bands? Hockey? Anything else.” She closed the car doors of the 2007 volkswagen, Tiffany bared her teeth, “do boy bands eat people? No? Unimportant mom! This is important.” Tiffany was suddenly remembering all the reasons she left in the first place.

Her mom grunted and turned the car engine on, “Do you want to get hurt? It’s not a game.” “Hurt?” Her eyes lit up, “So you do believe in the monster!” Tiffany retorted shrilly, “And I’ve been training for this, I’m ready.” Her mom veered out of the parking lot, “The only monster I believe in is my daughter’s ego, and she really needs to place it somewhere else other than bad scary stories.” “You’re making this impossible,” she tried to chastise back and crossed her arms over her chest.

“That’s right, missy, no bothering the motel tonight.” Her mom sniffed loudly and drove them home.

Tiffany pouted and complained the whole way home, she figured this was how all monster hunters were treated, unbelievers were just part of the job. At least, that’s what she told herself as her mom lamented her behaviour later that night on the phone with her dad.

“I just don’t understand, how many horror movies have you been letting her watch?” Her mom paused, as her dad answered. Tiffany hid around the corner and stared at the wall, she had refused to come to dinner that night.

“Yes, Henry,” her mom sounded tired, “But I’m worried your indulgences have let her grow up like one of those undomestic- she’s not a field of wildflowers Henry, she’s a young woman, with a future. Stop it, stop, I don’t want to hear any more of your metaphors. She’s not a clay pot either! Goddamnit, you always do this. All of those self-improvement classes and you can’t listen worth a damn. Don’t start on me.”

They had one of their usual arguments.

Her mother sighed loudly after a few sharp barbs, her voice grew soft and tired, exhausted, “I just don’t know what to do with her.”

She was 19. And apparently no one knew what to do with her.

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

Tiffany had a clunky transistor radio in her lap and the itch of a lumpy blanket wound around her shoulders, they had My Little Pony characters on them from years ago. That was neither here nor there for her in many ways.

The clock by her bedside read 10:47 in bright red letters and Tiffany was hunched over and squinting her eyes in the dark. Her mom would notice if she turned on any lights, even at this hour.

She was certain the older woman was still holding her late night wine and indulging in her stacks of romance novels. Everyone was a paradox in their own ways, but Tiffany doesn’t point that out.

She was busy twisting knobs again. The hush of the radio blared through the air.

“We have a great setlist for you-” “Nobody, nobody, noooboooody-” “I can’t be-” “Sh-” “Ja-”

“Bzz-” She kept twisting.

Some part of her began to sink with each turn, what am I doing? She tried to push the thought down, she knew what she was doing. She knew what she saw all those years ago with her dog and she knew what she wanted now.

She had called it her ‘gap year’ between highschool and college but there was no plan to go to UCLA or San Jose University. She just needed to prove herself this once.

Monster hunters didn’t need to pour over biology textbooks that took her three different rereads to even fully absorb.

“Mountain mam-” “Sex, sex, and-” “Kis-” “Oomph,” “Ssssshhhh.” Tiffany’s hand froze and her muscles tensed, she landed on a chanel, one with strange static blaring over the line: 98.3.

She held her breath and brought the radio up to her ear, “Yes?” She whispered at the speakers and she hoped that her mom was almost done with her wine by now.

“Sssshuck.” Her eyes went wide, “Please.” She didn’t want to beg monsters, but she couldn’t lose this. Tiffany clambered to her feet and shook the radio, “Tell me.” “Sssshuch.” The radio buzzed, almost sing-song, and gave off an eery crunching static, Tiffany exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment, absorbing it. The radio buzzed, she jumped to her feet and reached for her extra-thick socks. She threw off her blanket from her shoulders and yanked on a pair of shorts and button-up shirt.

She didn’t hesitate as she quietly shoved the second story bathroom window open. It was a half mile walk to the motel. She turned the radio off, shoved it in her pack along with her notepad, several pencils and a dull kitchen knife she had carried off days ago from the dining room drawers.

Despite the heat she yanked on her brown bomber jacket and lifted herself out the window. Maybe her mom thought it was too high to jump from, maybe she underestimated how determined Tiffany was.

Maybe the woman was curled up around her ‘Favio x Angela’ novel and was far too gone to try and figure out once again what to do with her daughter.

Tiffany climbed down and started walking.

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

The night was a warm sweet milk around her, cradling her and leaking into her insides like a fiery gas leak, her shirt was almost soaked through by the time she saw Anne’s. The moon was a slice of silver cheese in the sky and the South Dakota sky was a river of sparkling white blemishes against inky black night. It smelled like dry grass and dust.

She breathed in the silver and exhaled warmth, it wasn’t like this in North Cali, but maybe that’s why she came. She took out the kitchen knife, it had a plastic covering and she slipped the weapon into the waistband of her shorts.

It dug into her thigh as she walked, but she ignored it. The monster hunter had warned her about tonight, she knew she had to be here.

Exactly four lights were on Anne’s Motel: the lobby with its vibrant pale yellow light and three windows alight with their soft beige curtains drawn. Tiffany went around the back, walking past rows of low rectangle bushes and spotting a narrow metal door with a red sign over the handle: fire exit. It was supposed to be properly locked but she shook the handle back and forth gently until it clicked in place and she pushed her way in.

They were modernizing Anne’s, but it wasn’t quite there yet.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hands on the handle and bracing herself. You can do this, her ears rang, you have to.

She shouldered her way through the back door and stood in a dark hallway, lit only by silver moonlight at the other end of the long space. She held her breath. It was quiet.

The shadows seemed to play before her eyes, shifting in place and forming ghastly shapes in the dark. She sucked in a breath and pressed herself against the wall, letting the door slide closed behind her.

Nothing moved, no lights flickered. She steadied herself, “hunting,” she took deep breaths and held her chest, “Hunting is all about facing fear.” She edged forward, almost spooking herself as the motion sensors picked up on her movements and blinked on. She had rub her eyes a couple times to adjust to the sudden flood of light.

A flicker of movement arose in the corner of her left eye, “ah!” Tiffany jumped back and rolled to her left, careening to the floor on her knees. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, but when she looked back up nothing was there. Again.

Tiffany took deep breaths and crept her way toward the east wing of the hotel, something had to be there. It was time, the radio had been buzzing.

The lights stay on.

Her pulse ran ramshackle through her veins and Tiffany practically crawled her way across the motel floors. The plastic knife protector dug deeper into her thigh, but she doesn’t feel it. She edged up to the second floor ice machine room, just outside the east wing, and waited- eyes opened, jaw set, world spinning slightly.

“This is it,” she whispered to herself and began to wait.

She crouched, checking, waiting, eyes strained on the fluorescent lights above and frequently sniffing the air for something. She stays perfectly still, biding her time, waiting, until the lights turn off again, and then flicker, once.

Tiffany’s eyes dart back and forth in the dark, she crept out of the ice machine room and looked up and down the long hallways. She opened her mouth to call out, ask something, prompt something.

She heard a hiss instead, “What are you doing here?” Tiffany flinched and spun around, two half-moon eyes glow in the dark behind her, a growl rumbling in the girl’s voice. Tiffany’s lifted her chin and blinked a couple times, “Oh.” “You shouldn’t be here.” Tiffany’s brow folded in, “My mom works here.” It was probably the best defense she had.

Lona’s eyes were hard and shifting around the room quickly, wildly almost, “Get out of here.” “What, are you ordering me?” Tiffany tried not to sound petulant.

Her hand came down like an iron claw on Tiffany’s shoulder, hard enough to bruise, “Yes.” That’s when the lights flared on like the sun itself had been pulsed into them, flaring to life and filling the whole space in a brilliant glow, Lona widened her stance and drew herself up. A noise like a low buzzing gurgle sounded behind them, quiet and licking at her insides like sandpaper over skin.

“Take my hand.” Lona put her hand out and Tiffany eyed it. The lights flickered above them like a sudden rapid eclipse. “Uh,” Tiffany reached for her pack instead.

“That’s another order,” Lona took an aggressive step forward, the lights flickered quickly above them, fritzing and blinking.

Tiffany gulped, “I’m not,” she tried to summon her courage, “I’m staying.” “Take it or I’m carrying you out, civilian,” Lona growled and Tiffany gave in and slipped her fingers in between Lona’s. Lona gripped them, “Don’t look back.”

They started to run.

The sound grew louder, like a clunking car engine purring through the air, metallic and crunching to the ear, static fuzzed just below the surface of the noise. The lights flickered.

Tiffany looked behind her.

“Ah!” Lona skidded to a halt, painfully squeezing Tiffany’s hand as they came to a jarring stop. Tiffany was still looking behind her, the hallway was painfully alight except for a deep dark nothingness just after the bright fluorescent overhead. Just at the end of the hall, it was too dark to see through.

What was it?

“Excuse me,” A voice said shrilly, “Oh my, I thought I heard some commotion.” Tiffany was dragged back to the other issue at hand: they had been stopped by Mr. Thomas, standing in a bathrobe and eyeing the two of them. Specifically, Mr. Thomas was eyeing Tiffany, standing in the middle of the space with his hands on his hips.

“Honestly.”

Lona drew herself up, “Sir, where is the nearest exit?” “Exit?” Mr. Thomas blanched, “is this young Miss Tiffany’s doing? I promise, any tales she might be spinning are hyped up! Please considering not cutting your stay with us short.” He gave a small, placating smile.

Lona groaned, “Sir, you don’t understand…” She reached for him next, this time with her left hand.

The lights flickered. Lona and Tiffany both instinctively took a step backward. Two of the lights went out behind Mr. Thomas.

Tiffany tried to stutter out, “Mr. Thomas,” she took another step back, “Come toward us. Slowly.”

Mr. Thomas made a face at her, “I’m sorry Tiffany, but this bothering of staff and guests has gone on long enough. No tricks are going to change that. I’m afraid I’ll have to ban you from the motel.” The light directly behind Mr. Thomas went out, a thick tangible darkness sat behind him.

Tiffany’s heartbeat pounded painfully in her ears, move, she commanded herself to move. Reach for him, beg for him.

Instead, she stood with her back to the wall, still holding Lona Davis’s hand like a five-year-old at an amusement park. Tiffany swallowed, “Okay,” she said slowly, “but first you need to-” “Shh,” Lona hushed her and pressed them both firmly up against the wall. “It’s too late.” The last light in the hallway went out. The buzzing crescendoed into an insect-like metallic cry, a song like a garbage disposal, and two perfect round lights came on from behind Mr. Thomas.

Like headlights.

“What in God’s name,” Mr. Thomas turned around as the white lights fell on him.

The headlights blinked and Tiffany took in one horrible twisting vision: a creature with two hooved feet, a massive furry body that took up the whole hall, two dark wings hanging limply off it’s back. She squinted at the face but all she saw was headlights.

And then the headlights tilted up, an enormous mouth opened wide: blunt white teeth gaped and a grey thick tongue snaked out of its giant mouth. Mr. Thomas didn’t even get in a scream before the black lips clamped down. Teeth snapping down as Mr. Thomas’s head was rested from his shoulders.

Tiffany got in a scream though, “Aaaah!” She let out a piercing shrill cry as the blunt teeth chomped through flesh and bone.

Her stomach lurched like the titanic sinking as a grotesque crunch followed, the sound of bone and skull being crushed by huge molars, thick red liquid splattered across the carpet. Tiffany couldn’t move.

“Come on,” Lona stayed true to her promise, grabbed Tiffany around the waist and hoisted her onto her shoulder. Tiffany squeezed her eyes shut as she heard another crunch and Lona carried her down the hall and through the emergency exit.

She had met the monster.

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

The next few hours were a smeared blurr, filled by a sickening headache that made her whole body tremble. The first thing Tiffany did was sag forward and vomit up the dinner she hadn’t eaten.

It was clear and tasted like bile. Tiffany puked again at the sight.

“Let it out,” Lona’s voice was no less hard, but she wasn’t hovering over her at least. Her hands were busy holding a small mechanized crossbow trained on the door and twisting something around her wrist.

Tiffany took deep gasping breaths and tried not to puke a third time.

It was real, it was all real.

She had known, but knowing and seeing were two different things.

Tiffany raked at her shirt, as if were too tight, as if there wasn’t enough air in her lungs. “Here.” There was a tap on her shoulder, she turned as Lona handed her a water bottle, “Drink.” Tiffany greedily downed the entire bottle before gasping for breath again.

“Oh my God,” she started to repeat, “Oh my fucking God.” Lona just snorted, “the first one is always the hardest.”

Tiffany’s head was light and there were spots in her vision, she glanced back toward the emergency exit and wiped her palms down on her shorts. “It, it, Mr. Thomas...” She squeezed her eyes shut before taking a rattling breath, it took another minute to open them again.

She wanted to scream again, she wanted to run back in there, she wanted to turn and run the other direction for miles and miles.

“What now?” She finally rasped out instead. Lona raised her eyebrows, “I assume it disappears again after feeding.”

Tiffany’s face fell, “there was a body for Mr. Koviak.” Lona turned toward her slowly, “perhaps it only eats the head.” She took wobbling a step back from the door, “it’s so much more… it’s so much.” Lona patted her shoulder, “Drink more. This will be over soon.” Tiffany drank a second bottle of water, she turned back to Lona, feeling limp and queasy, “What are you going to do?” She leaned in close, clenching her hands down so they wouldn’t tremble, “How can I help?”

She tried to push down the sight of Mr. Thomas’s limp body falling listlessly to the ground in a splatter of red. She tried to push down the crunch and the flickering lights. I can help, I can help, I can help.

She repeated to herself over and over. I can do something.

The other gnawing voice in her head wasn’t as persistent, but just as loud: your fault.

She finished the water before handing it to Lona, “What can I do?” Lona eyed her up and down. “Go home kid,” she sighed, “Actions over for tonight.” Lona turned to leave, Tiffany’s hand jutted out and grabbed onto her sleeve.

“How old are you?” She asked slowly.

Lona made a face, “How old am I?” “And tell me the truth.” Lona snorted, “I’m 21.” Tiffany let her go, “Then I’m not a kid to you.” Tiffany lifted her chin up, “And I can help.”

Lona tilted her head, “Were you not just in there? Did you not just see that man’s head get bit off? This isn’t a game.” Her tone remained even, but there was fire in her eyes.

Tiffany looked down at her shoes, “please,” she didn’t like the waiver to her voice, “It’s my, my f-fa-” “It’s not your fault,” Lona hand waved her. “Unless you’re a monster with hundreds of teeth of course.” Tiffany pinched herself so she wouldn’t cry, she looked up again, “What is it? What is that thing?” Lona scratched her chin and looked away, “Nothing good.” Tiffany sighed, “Please,” she took a step forward, “Let me help. I knew Mr. Thomas, I know everyone at this motel.” Lona arched her eyebrow up, “you know everyone in here?” She pursed her lips, “Do you… do you have any keys?” Tiffany perked up for the first time that night, “I can get some.” “Ugh,” Lona threaded a hand through her choppy hair, “You can’t come on any of the actual hunts. You hear me? None of this again.” Tiffany nodded vigorously, “I need to avenge him, any way I can.” Lona exhaled through her nose, “I better hope you like books then.” Tiffany shrugged weakly, “Where can I sign?” She looked down and gave a mirthless laugh, “I always wanted to hunt monsters.” Lona almost popped a smile, she put a hand on Tiffany’s shoulder, “Don’t. It only gets harder from here.” “I thought you said the first one’s the hardest?” Tiffany examined Lona in the light of the moon, neither of them were moving back inside yet.

“I lied,” she started to walk, “They’re all hard.” Tiffany wasn’t sure she liked teaming up with a stranger, much less one who would boss her around. But the image of Mr. Thomas’s stark white face being engulfed was too much.

Tiffany shuddered, this really wasn’t just a summer project, it never was.

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

They closed the motel down after that. It made sense, one of the owner’s had just been found headless in the hallways. His sister hadn’t made a comment yet, but it was said she found the body.

Ms. Thomas was a mousy woman in her late fifties, she had iron-grey hair and wore knee-length dresses everywhere and jackets that looked like they were from the 1920s. No one had seen her for days afterward, though Tiffany’s mom made sure to bring her soup every day and leave it at her door.

There were rumors the FBI would be sent in to look for any head-hunting serial killers. But those were just rumors.

There were rumors the Tiffany was there, that the maids were in on it, that the stranger passing through town knew something. Words flew and Tiffany felt a tremor of fear gathering in the small community.

She saw her mom pray at the funeral, get down on her knees and bend her head. There was a slight summer shower coming over the land that day and no one bothered with an umbrella.

They all stood in the light rain and bowed their heads, Tiffany knew her mom had become an atheist a long time ago, but she was muttering verses under her breath as they left. Maybe she thought it was the work of a demon after all, or maybe things like this brought out other sides of people.

Tiffany didn’t say anything at the funeral, just clenched her teeth so tight and wound her mouth shut so firmly that she thought her jaw might shatter like an old wind-up clock. She watched her shoes as she walked, entered, listened, left.

It all felt like something else, happening to some other girl.

She didn’t sleep that night, she hadn’t slept a lot since the night two weeks ago in the motel. I can do something, she repeated it to herself. I came here to do something.

She played with her transistor radio every night and waited.

It was a Wednesday at midday when she finally sought out Lona again, it would be a place to start.

Tina, from her mom’s spin class, knew Sierra, who worked at the local grocers had heard from the cashier that Lona came in every morning for a danish and a coffee. The girl was like clockwork, and better yet, she was still in town.

Tiffany rolled herself out of bed that Wednesday, glanced at the college pamphlets her mom left just outside her door and then brushed her teeth with the force of a steam engine. She didn’t bother with breakfast as she waved at her mom and left for the morning.

They were both out of work at the moment so Tiffany told her she was going to go look for a job- and it was, a job of sorts at least.

Tiffany found the girl in the fresh fruits section examining a shiny red apple, hair was loose and pushed over her right shoulder. She was wearing a navy blue shirt that day and capri jeans that covered most of a bruise on her calf. Tiffany came up behind her and cleared her throat.

“So,” Tiffany made the hunter jump. “When can we catch this horror-terror?” Lona turned and made a face, “Oh.” She paused, “hello again, uh…?” “Tiffany,” she said groughly, “Tiffany Green.” She put her hand out and they take a moment to exchange an awkward handshake.

Lona put one of the apples in her basket, “I’m afraid progress is slow.” She said carefully, backing away, “There’s complications.” Tiffany stepped into Lona’s personal bubble, “Put me to work then.” Lona pushed her hair back and started walking the other direction, “It’s not that simple. I don’t need you yet.” Tiffany followed her down the next aisle.

“Then need me now.” She insisted, “We don’t have all the time in the world, even if the motel is empty right now.” Lona didn’t look back, “We have at least a few more days.” Tiffany frowned deeply, “Take me with you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aren’t monster hunters supposed to have backup?” She chased after the other girl’s heels.

Lona arched an eyebrow, “Hunters are supposed to be careful. First and foremost.” Tiffany opened her mouth and then closed it, ‘careful’ was not on her job resume. “Please.” She tried again. “I can’t… the motel can’t stay closed. My mom’s worked there for twelve years. I can help.” Lona wandered her way to a tall silver coffee dispenser and doesn’t say anything as she fills a large canister, Tiffany felt like a lost puppy as she followed her to the cash register.

“Fine,” Lona finally relented as Tiffany trailed her to the parking lot, “You can come back with me.” She said slowly, “there is something we can both do.” Tiffany’s mouth breaks open into a toothy smile she didn’t know she had in her, “You won’t regret it.” Lona just clicked her tongue and made her way to a blue chevy car, “Rule one,” she got in, “listen to what I say.” She just got into the car after her.

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

Books. Tiffany should have anticipated books.

There was a second hotel in Rowing South Dakota, it was a motel 8 with 24-hour service, an outdoor swimming pool, and actual lawn chairs next to it. They were Anne’s main competition.

Tiffany was led through the cramped parking lot all the way to room 108 where Lona took out a set of keys and jangled the door opened. Tiffany glanced at the room momentarily, the curtains were drawn but the scent of sweet wine and something smoky wafted out of the door.

“Come in, come in,” Lona gestured quickly and Tiffany gladly ducked into the AC-blasted room and out of the heat. She turned in each direction, pictures were on the walls, books were open on every surface, there was a crossbow in the corner.

“Wow,” She breathed and milked in every second of it, Lona covered the crossbow with a blanket and pushed a pile of books aside to let Tiffany sit down on a small chair.

“Who knows, maybe a new set of eyes will actually help.” Lona muttered to herself and pushed her hair back- a habit Tiffany was starting to recognize. Tiffany twitched nervously, concentrating wasn’t her strong suit. But this was a monster, this was The Monster and sometimes that was enough to trick her brain into cooperating.

She tapped a rhythm on her legs as Lona firmly closed the door behind them, “SO,” she spoke up, “Are you finally going to tell me what we’re looking for?” Lona didn’t respond right away, opting to walk silently back across the room and take her seat on the single red-quilted bed.

“I don’t know,” Lona said clearly, evenly.

Tiffany leaned forward, “What?” “I don’t know,” Lona repeated and then turned away, she made a soft frustrated sound, “this isn’t what you think it is. These aren’t your mother’s monsters, these aren’t TV monsters.” “Okay?” She puffed her cheeks and drew a little closer, “I’m all ears then. What does that even mean?” Lona met her eye, “maybe there once was, I dunno, perfect vampires and pure weres.” Tiffany studied Lona’s face, as she was hesitating around something, “but?”

“It’s the twenty-first century, monsters change, grow just as the world did, they didn’t stop adapting just because people stopped believing.” “That, yeah, yeah?” Tiffany rubbed her neck, “Yes?” Lona cracked the book open and placed it on her lap, “it’s a hybrid.” She said simply, “I don’t know what it is, because it probably wasn’t bred into this damn world until recently.” She uncapped a highlighter with her teeth, “Damn bastards.” Tiffany blinked a couple times, “hybrid… like?” “A combo, mix, mutt,” Lona highlighted something in her book.

Tiffany looked down at her lap, “Monsters fuck.” She said to herself quietly.

Lona put her palms up in the air, “That is your great take-away?” She looked up sharply, “You can fuck monsters.” Lona rolled her eyes spectacularly, “most only once.” She shook her head, “And you haven’t met a more annoying creature than a vampire-fae or banshee-werecat, hybrids don’t make this fucking easy.” Tiffany gave a sideways sloppy smile, “You really are a monster hunter.” Lona snorted gently, “I thought we established that, yeah.” Tiffany grinned to herself and looked down, “Give me a book.” She gave her a thumbs up, “Let’s figure out which of these things have been doing the nasty.” Lona leaned back, “I’m trying not to regret this.” Tiffany winked, “Try harder.”

She gave a hoarse laugh and Tiffany cracked the spine of an ancient tome that smelled like dust and molding ink. The first picture was of a demon with seven fingers on each hand and a head of fire.

She kept turning.

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

They had a bulletin board. A bulletin board and string and seven questions in scrawling large print. It felt like a 70s cop show and Tiffany was the spunky assistant, spunky and full of potential- as long as she kept herself whole and uneaten of course.

She paced in front of the board, the seven questions were written in fat sharpie marker and read:

How does it move around?

Where does it go?

What can it manipulate? Light? Sound?

Why is it eating just heads?

Mothman?- that one was scratched out and given a little frustrated face next to it.

Why the hotel?

Why Rowing?

They were both looking at it with blurry eyes and a slight headache by 11pm. Tiffany had sent a few hasty texts to her mom saying she was at the movies, her mom seemed to willfully give in to that.

Tiffany stretched and yawned one more time, she glanced back at the board, “What if,” she pointed to number five again, “angry mothman.” Lona groaned, “I told you ten times, it’s not mothman. He doesn’t eat people.” “But what if,” she rested her head on her own shoulder, “it was mothman? Or mothman… saw a sexy subaru and decided to have a little fun.” “Oh my god.” “I’m just saying!” She threw her hands in the air, “it has those headlight eyes.” “Yes,” Lona looked ready to toss her book across the room, “And we still have no idea why.” Tiffany yawned again, “Machine-mothman sex.” “Absolutely not,” Lona massaged the bridge of her nose, “I don’t even want to live in that world.” “Too bad,” she grinned, “I just made that world.” Lona flopped down on the bed, “what’s that you say? You want to offer yourself up the monster as a sacrifice? Virgin sacrifice? That’s very noble and bold of you.” Tiffany stuck her tongue out at her, “Hey, I’m coming up with ideas over here.” She fidgeted in place, “an’ m’ not a virgin.” She mumbled. Lona chuckled, “You know I have a lie detector-rune, right?” Tiffany’s eyes went wide, “Really?” She almost stammered. Lona tossed her head back and laughed, “No.” “Ugh,” Tiffany picked up one of the nearby dislodged motel pillows and threw it at her, “bad people get eaten by monsters you know.”

Lona sighed, “everybody gets eaten by monsters. That’s how it is.” Tiffany looked up at the ceiling and listened to the AC blast, “Maybe…” She mumbled, “It’s a weremoth-car hybrid?” Lona gave her a tired look, she shrugged, “turn to ‘were’s’ in that book over there.” Tiffany spun around in her chair, “Really?” “Not the car part, no,” Lona sniffed, “But we have to figure out the timing in between feedings, figure out something, anything.” Tiffany frowned, “Do we know if it’s feeding or not?”

Lona hung her head, “No. We don’t.” She rolled over and pointed at newspaper and book clippings, “We know there were cults in the hotel.” “For one night.” “And a burial ground.” “Ten miles away.” Lona closed her eyes and sighed, “what about a weremoth again?”

She grinned, “On it.” Lona trudged over and looked over her shoulder as she read, poured over the words, the symbols, any of it, all of it. Tiffany glanced at her several times and wondered, not for the first time, where she came from. And where she was going after this.

They kept flipping through books.

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

Night three approached like a bad hangover: thirst, headaches, and staring at nothing for a few hours straight. Her mom was starting to ask where she kept going, there were only so many movies out and she apparently didn’t buy the new ‘I made a friend’ excuse.

But Tiffany was 19, she was allowed out of the house. And into the motel 8 room 108.

Tiffany was lying on Lona’s bed, back resting against the headboard, and transistor radio back in her lap. Lona was in the corner furiously flipping through yet another book, this one titled: The Supernatural of North America, volume Five.

She was growling, “no glowing eyes, no winged creatures with glowing eyes. No head eating!” She spilled the book onto the floor, “Useless.” Tiffany kept her eyes down and responded in a monotone, “Don’t give up yet.”

Lona angrily got to her feet and started to pace, “So useless. There’s nothing here, we might as well name it ourselves.” Tiffany’s mouth twitched, “The Lona-saurus.” “Yeah, why not.” Tiffany laughed, looking up, “Lona-terror.” She shook her head, “Don’t you want it named after you?” She grinned, “No.” she tilted her head to the side, “Though I do have a question for Lona-Human.”

Lona paused and raised an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Tiffany kept fiddling with the dials and glancing around the room. “How did you get into this business anyway?” Lona glanced over her shoulder, “I told you earlier. That’s confidential. You shouldn’t know about all of this,” she was murmuring now, “How am I going to explain any of this?” Tiffany frowned, “To who?” Lona turned on her heels and kept pacing, “No one.”

Tiffany groaned and kept flipping through her channels. “Jesus lov-” “Shuckin-” “Pi-” “Shh-” “Ki-” “Would you stop that?” Lona crawled onto the bed with her, “I don’t know how much time we have left and it’s distracting.” “Shush,” Tiffany suddenly sat upright in bed as she found the chanel again: 98.3. It was dead quiet. “Here it is.” The quiet stretched on and Lona reached to take the radio from her, “Knock it off.” Tiffany rolled away from her.

“Listen!”

As if on queue, the static blared to life.

“Oh shit!” Tiffany shook the radio in midair, “There is it.” Lona raised an eyebrow, “What is it?” Tiffany glanced up, “this is the chanel,” she bit her bottom lip, “The monster channel,” she whispered it and glanced at the door just in case.

Lona scooted closer to her, “Well it sounds like you’re getting bad reception,” she didn’t seem particularly impressed. “Here. It’s probably a blocked chanel.” Lona reached for something in her pocket, holding the object with her right hand and bringing it to her lips. She seemed to whisper to it and then spit on the surface. Tiffany wrinkled her nose at that, but noted closely as the other girl placed a shiny metal rock on top of the radio.

“Turn the dial now,” Lona commanded, Tiffany reluctantly complied.

“I’m telling you, it doesn’t get any clearer than-” She turned the dial and voices immediately began pouring in through the speakers, chanting, singing, wild and strange. Tiffany’s breath caught in her throat.

“Sanguis Bibimus. Corpus Edimus. Sanguis Bibimus. Corpus Edimus. Tolle Corpus Satani! Ave!” Unmistakable gibberish came over the speakers with a grating metal sound in the background, unmistakably dark, unmistakably powerful. The hairs on her arm stood on end, demonic.

Lona stood up immediately, “Of course,” she reached for her duffel bag, “Of fucking course.” Tiffany bounced to her feet, radio still in hand, “What, what is it?” The demonic chanting continued. “Stay here, turn that off,” Lona ordered, “I have to hurry.” Tiffany grabbed her wrist before she could dart away, “What’s going on,” she shoved herself into Lona’s face, “You owe me that much.” Lona struggled with something for a moment before opening and closing her mouth, “Do you remember what the monster looked like?” “Yeah,” Tiffany shuddered, “glowing eyes, wings, huge ass mouth.” “Remember the teeth?”

Tiffany squinted, “I… don’t think I can forget.” “They were blunt,” Lona shouldered her way toward the door, “This isn’t a carnivore, someone else is doing this, that channel… it must be going through the whole town.” Tiffany followed after her, “You’re not stopping me from coming with.” Lona tugged at her hair, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Then don’t fight it.” Tiffany reached out, “I can come with you now or hitch hike there, I’m not staying.” Lona pinched her lips together, glaring and wrestling with something. They stare off for a long minute, finally, Lona stepped aside and Tiffany climbed into the car with her.

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

“Rule number one,” Lona was speeding down the city central road like she wanted to leave skid marks on it, “Don’t come in.” “No.” “Rule number two,” Lona growled, “Stay away from the monster.” “I mean, I’ll try,” Tiffany could feeling her blood pumping through her ears, I’m not going to freeze up this time. She made herself a promise.

“Rule three,” Lona swerved into the parking lot, her face a placid sheet of determination, “if I say run, then you run.” Tiffany nodded, “I can do that.” Her hands trembled slightly, she balled them up and met Lona’s eyes, “I can do that.” Lona’s face slipped into a small smile as they pulled into the parking lot, “And if you can’t run…” She handed her a small pointed cross, “Fight like hell.”

Tiffany smiled back as she took the pointed cross, “Is this for demons then?” Lona kicked her door open and took out her crossbow, “We’re about to find out.” Tiffany edged out of the car and ran after her.

Tiffany watched Lona’s long hair swing back and forth as they strode toward the hotel, no lights were on, it stood quiet and empty. She nursed a growing nausea in her gut at the sight, nerves burning through her system and forcing her feet to follow Lona anyway.

“Lona,” Tiffany chased her heels, “I’ve got your back.” Lona snorted and looked over her shoulder, “I am going to be in so much trouble for bringing a civilian into this.” She pushed her dark hair back, “Is there anything I can say to get you to turn around?” Tiffany drew herself up, “Not on your life. Now,” she cracked her knuckles, “Lemme get us in.” Tiffany found the back door and carefully jiggled it open, she could feel them both holding their breath. Hybrids, she was still wrapping her mind around it.

This wasn’t the movie monsters, it wasn’t even the white-limbed forest walker she was certain ate her dog all those years ago. This was the real deal.

She doesn’t have time to process what this would mean, she cracked the door open and a buzz sizzled through the air. Their eyes both went wide, Lona darted in first, crossbow out, Tiffany pushed her way in after before Lona can lock her out.

The door shuts softly behind them and the lights flicker softly overhead, Lona crouched down and Tiffany stood in place. The yellow wallpaper and green carpet suddenly seemed like a funeral walk, she looked down the narrow space and looked for something.

Lona grabbed her wrist and forced her up against the wall, “Don’t just stand there.” She hissed and placed Tiffany in the corner. “Careful.”

They crept down the long corridor and the echoes of demonic chanting reverberated through Tiffany’s headspace, remembering the sound of ghoulish voices calling across the radio.

You knew there would be dangers, she reminded herself, you knew it wouldn’t be easy.

The lights flickered and Tiffany looked in all directions, waiting for teeth or shadows or giant wings that swept them all away. She tensed her muscles and crept after Lona, keeping her back to the wall, the lights flickered.

It’s quiet, but Tiffany swore she heard the sound of distant buzzing, metallic and crunching.

“I don’t like this,” Lona murmured, “We needed more… more time. More information.” She heard her take a deep breath.

Tiffany clenched her teeth, they hadn’t figured out what the chanting even meant. “It’s coming,” she said, “We have to stop it.”

Lona nodded back, “Keep your eyes open, we don’t know when or where-” “Aaah!” A shriek shattered the air, gut-wrenching and sharp. They share a look, then they are running. Tiffany flung herself toward the cry, focusing on pumping each leg forward and keeping in motion, they followed it toward the second story.

They crashed into the fire escape door and sprinted up the flight of stairs, it was east wing.

“You took him,” a wobbling voice cried, “You took him, devil, bastard.” It was a desperate, watery wail.

Lona burst the upstairs door open, the hall was dark, dark and breathless and a pair of eyes are blaring like two white perfect headlamps. Tiffany blinked a couple times until she could see more clearly.

Ms. Thomas was holding up a fire-poker and brandishing it back and forth like a sword. Maybe she had come for vengeance too.

For a moment Tiffany’s breath is taken away, the creature loomed at the end of the hall. Eyes like flashlights, a buzzing emanating off of its body. It’s massive mouth was a slit across it’s lower face, she could make out two fuzzy atena hanging down above it this time.

It’s massive furry body filled the space and blunt white teeth were just visible in the dark.

Ms. Eve Thomas held up her poker, “stay back.”

The creature lumbered forward undeterred, but Tiffany was moving before she could question it, question anything. Ms. Thomas stabbed up at it’s open gaping maw. Tiffany lunged first, tackling her to the ground and falling head over heels into the wall as the creature’s mouth came down over nothing.

An arrow whizzed above them and a solid thunk carried through the air, Tiffany looked up to see the end of the projectile lodged into the creature’s right shoulder. The creature stumbled in place and took a moment to touch the black arrow embedded into its flesh, fresh black blood oozing out.

It threw its head back and opened its mouth wide.

A buzzing insectoid noise lept from it’s throat, Tiffany reached to cover her ears but Lona was yelling at them. “Move,” she yelled and let loose another crossbow arrow. This one just barely grazed the creatures left leg and left a trail of blood spilling onto the carpet.

The creature stumbled forward, saddling up alongside them, it’s thick arms reaching out wildly and grasping in the dark, Tiffany could smell it’s musk, hear it’s labored breaths.

Tiffany pushed Ms. Thomas forward, “Run!” She yelled, “run goddammit.” Ms. Thomas scrambled forward, reaching for Lona, but Tiffany paused, there was something on the ground, something behind them. It was a thin strip of white paper, black ink was scrawled vertically along it.

The paper lead down the hall and up the creatures back, up and up, Tiffany followed it with her eyes. She licked her lips, “Lona,” she said slowly, eyes not leaving the paper, “I’m breaking rule number two.” “No you’re fucking not.” Lona called, trying to reload another arrow just as the monster lurched toward her, slow, but deadly with it’s thick grey tongue lashing out.

“Huh,” Tiffany grunted and sprung to her feet, it’s headlamp eyes turned toward her, hitting her directly in the face, neck turning like an owl’s. Tiffany threw herself on it’s massive furry body and climbed.

The grating buzzing noise boomed, Tiffany flinched but managed to dive for the paper tied around the creatures neck. It was arranged like a noose, tied and scrawled with inky dark unreadable letters.

The creatures hands thrashed at her, Tiffany kicked at it’s claws and latched her hands onto the paper. The moment she grabbed the scroll a fiery burn bloomed in her flesh that sparked all the way to her elbow, burning and bleeding into her skin. “Agh,” she screamed and let go, luckily, she slammed into the wall instead of into the creatures enormous mouth and searching tongue. Pain burst from her head and hands, she hit the wall and slid limply to floor.

Her vision blurred and tilted, but voices were yelling, calling, she feably pushed up and fumbled back to her feet, the world was a rush of nonsense sound and light. A hand thrust out and grabbed her shoulder, yanking her out of the way as a row of blunt snapping teeth descended.

Tiffany is pulled to safety for a second time.

“Thanks,” she said weakly as Lona crashed them into the nearest wall and out of the way.

Lona’s eyes didn’t leave the monster, “What the hell was that?” Tiffany glanced down at her burned hands, headlamp eyes were sweeping toward them once more, “You’re right,” Tiffany reached for her pocket, “I don’t think it wants to do this.” Lona pushed them back again, “We need to retreat, regroup-” “Hey Lona,” she thought of Mr. Thomas, his face pale and mouth open as the teeth closed in around him. “If anything happens,” she took a deep breath, “Don’t tell my mom I died doing something stupid after all.” Lona’s hand was firm across her shoulder, “Don’t you da-” She wiggled free by jumping out of her brown bomber jacket, she slid smoothly forward and jammed herself directly into the monster’s path. The headlights blind her for a moment, but she jumped up this time, leaping blindly just as the creature lunged to take her head off. She wound her arms around its neck as it bent down.

A thick grey tongue licked at her leg, but she kicked and grabbed at the paper noose tied firmly around its neck. She cringed at the searing burn in her right hand, but drew the sharpened cross up and sliced at the paper. Tiffany prepared herself to have to saw and tear away, but the paper broke like wet tissue paper against the press of the holy object, it smoked gently and fell away.

A deafening screech followed and her whole world tremored.

Tiffany was falling again, falling and falling, just as a pair of hands collided into her back, stopping her head from cracking against the hard floor. Lona had dove for her as she fell away from the beast.

The creature screeched again, it’s voice insectoid but losing it’s inhumane metallic clang. Lona started to pull, “The door,” she yelled and started tearing away, “We need to get the door.”

Tiffany barely remembered stumbling and sweating her way down the stairs and back to the first story, her hands screaming in pain and head spinning. Lona shepherded them toward the fire exit just as the creature rammed itself into walls and ceiling, knocked out the lights as it flew rapidly in all directions.

The emergency exit peeled open and they threw themselves out. Tiffany gasped for air, Lona pushing her out of the way just as a huge furry body burst out behind them.

The summer air was somehow cooler on her flushed skin and she swayed in place, the fight leaving her battered body, but she couldn’t let her eyes close, she stayed in place, transfixed.

The shadows melted off the enormous humanoid beast, the dark blacks fading into a sharp silver, it’s wings extending, grey and covered in spotted intricate markings. It’s headlamp eyes shun in the night and it’s antena extended.

It was a light grey now, sparkling almost, wings massive and whumping in the night.

“Oh,” Tiffany stepped back, “ Oh fuck.” Lona kept her hands around her, she chuckled, “Huh,” she said simply, “A fairy creature.” Later, Lona would call it a ‘will-o-wisp’ mated with a moth beast, a lost mutt fairy creature.

It’s movements were quick and decisive, slightly lopsided and presumably still wounded, it sped into the horizon. It’s silverback disappeared into the trees, the buzzing and screeching following it and the world fell quiet and still.

“Will it,” Tiffany felt her tingling limbs to make sure they were all still there, “Will it eat any more people? Should we go after it?” Lona’s eyes trailed down to Tiffany’s raw red hands, she shook her head, “Someone was controlling it. With those chants and that leash,” their eyes meet, “it should be safe now.” Tiffany exhaled, “Who would do that?” Lona shrugged, “There are plenty of bad people in this world.” She pushed Tiffany’s blonde hair back from her sweaty face, “don’t worry about it.” Tiffany slumped down, “There you go again. With orders.” She chuckled and sat gasping in the light of the descending moon, “You’ll notice I’m not very good with those.” Lona collapsed down next to her, “well thanks for not dying at least.” Tiffany shot her a slow smile, “Thanks for letting me almost not-not-die.” Lona chuckled, “please don’t thank me civilian. This isn’t what we’re supposed to do.”

“Okay,” Tiffany’s head lulled to the side, falling onto Lona’s shoulder, “you’re welcome then.”

Lona put her head down too, “That was stupidly brave, there.” She sighed, closing her eyes, her voice becomes lower, small even, “Don’t become a monster hunter Tiffany, please.” There was something unsettling soft in her tone.

Tiffany closed her eyes too, “Too late.” They stay there for a very long moment, contemplating their own mortality, burns, and various fly-away feelings seeping into tired bones.

Lona was gone in the morning.

Tiffany torched all of her college pamphlets on the burner, bandaged her hands, wrote a note to her mother, and followed after.

FIN

#wlw #monster story #short story #horror story #sapphic #original writing #original shorty story #my work #f/f #Tiffany Green #warning for death and serious injury

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ohrosalinds · 5 years

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katherine mcnamara. genderfluid. they/them. ／ rosalind cox just pulled up blasting fly by hilary duff — that song is so them! you know, for a twenty-four year old singer & actor, i’ve heard they’re really -capricious, but that they make up for it by being so +gregarious. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say plaid shirts open with a white shirt underneath, thrift shop knick knacks, the smell of cinnamon, and childhood stardom. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble! ( vc: hilary duff, bridgit mendler & ana golja )

rosalind’s basically the same as they were the last time i played them, but i’ve edited a couple of things. so here’s their new intro u know the drill like this to plot w them.

rosalind’s 24, their birthday just passed at the beginning of the month.

rosalind was born to laurel whittmore-cox on august fifth during a summer rainstorm. rosalind’s father died months before their birth and they still to this day do not know much about him. but they never minded. their mom, and their maternal grandfather gus were more than enough.

rosalind was “discovered” at the age of two. they were at their mother’s office ( laurel’s a producer for movies & tv shows ) and it started a career for the redheaded baby. mostly print ads for a while, a couple of tv shows and movies but nothing big. that is until rosalind was nine years old and was cast as the titular role in disney’s lizzie mcguire. and they dyed their hair blonde for the role.

honestly, it was a dream. rosalind’s mother was an executive producer and rosalind really loved playing lizzie. it was her favorite thing. she was excited to go to work every day. her friends were great. she loved her tv family. and it was fun playing a role that really felt at home, as she was going through similar things as lizzie at the time of the show. since rosalind was in middle school at the time when lizzie was airing.

when rosalind was eleven years old ( and four months, not that that’s a needed detail ) they were going through this period of discovery. figuring out who she wanted to be, as lizzie’s final season was filming. they had just found music as an outlet and were working on writing and coming up with their own things, hoping to release something after lizzie ended.

during this time rosalind read something and was watching a lot of television and something struck the blonde. following research and time of discovery, rosalind found out about the term genderfluid. and after reading about it and learning more. it was like a lightbulb moment and they were like “this is it. that’s me.” and they decided to start using they/them pronouns because it felt right.

rosalind told their family over dinner one night and while both laurel and gus were confused, they adjusted well. it took laurel until rosalind was seventeen years old to finally not use “she/her” accidentally.

but rosalind had this whole show riding on their shoulders and they just knew that this coming out was not going to be good. people would talk and things would not end well for them, it could ruin the end of the series. it was going to be a scandal, because it went against what the producers and execs wanted for their show’s star. and, of course, lizzie was one of the number one shows on children’s programming right then too. while everything was going on, still working on the final season, the problem was also that rosalind didn’t want to not use their pronouns because it’s who they are.

so rosalind came out to the cast and the crew, to people whom they considered family. it was a slow thing, not a big announcement, and people were mostly accepting. by the end of the series filming, most of the people they worked with every day had adjusted to using the proper pronouns most of the time.

rosalind thought they were finally free of the station and the pushy execs who only wanted their agenda pushed forward, other than working still with their record label for this music they had been creating. but, as luck would have it, the producers and executives had gotten together to bring about a feature film for the show.

and rosalind couldn’t say no, lizzie was still very much a part of who they were. and getting to work with the people again ( even so soon after saying goodbye ) it was something they wanted to do.

so after the small “break”, almost thirteen year old rosalind went off to italy to film this movie. ( fact: they turned 13 while filming in italy ).

and while they were there with the cast and crew and people who loved and supported them, someone back home leaked their gender pronouns and caused a big stink.

executives flew in when they were almost finished with filming and it was a big to do. rosalind was scheduled to go on a tour after the film finished filming since their album was almost completed. but the executives were nervous about what everything would be. it was a lot of meetings and rosalind had to deal with the pressure of filming the movie and worrying about their own future and if the film they, and everyone else, worked so hard on would be released.

the company did what they do best and decided that after the movie, rosalind should go on tour for their music right away. so rosalind was rushed to a local studio to finish the final touches of the album, which was released before the film had finished.

despite the immense pressure, rosalind was happy. they were doing what they loved, writing music, acting, and singing.

of course, going on a big tour meant rules and guidelines from the corporation. a lot of them restricting what rosalind could say and talk about in interviews, which they had done before, but never to this same degree. now rosalind was completely restricted. in fact, they had to read from a script and they had a personal handler from the company with them at all times.

it didn’t help that they were touring for music on top of doing press for the lizzie film.

it should have been the time of their life. it really should have, but alas. it was a time where rosalind was sleeping less and less every night and working on finding themself in the little spare time they had.

it was building up a lot, taking a toll on the young teen.

rosalind’s biggest personal problem with the press was that everyone who interviewed them was using she/her pronouns and completely ignoring the fact they’d even stated a preference for using they/them.

it led to them having a bit of a …. MELTDOWN during an interview when they were asked a pretty terrible question.

footage went viral on tmz and mtv of rosalind pulling off their microphone in the middle of an interview, irate and yelling at who people later found out was their disney appointed handler, “i’m sick of using the wrong pronouns for this bullshit! it’s not fair!”

the footage can still be found on multiple websites, and people tend to talk about it a lot still.

the next thing they knew, the second half of the tour was cancelled, “creative differences” had been cited. however, rosalind was still under contract with the record label, and even though they were basically blacklisted from working for quite some time, rosalind had to work on new music for a company that didn’t want them.

rosalind released a second album soon after the end of the tour. once their duties in the contract were finished and all obligations filled--rosalind left the company and went to “normal life”.

the teen -- a redhead now, the blonde hair finally gone ( people called it shedding the disney baggage ) -- left los angeles to live with their grandpa gus outside of boston. they maintained a job working at gus’ thrift/antique shop the little things. and did their best to maintain a regular teenage existence. which is hard when you spent your childhood on film.

for a while, rosalind did a youtube channel in their later high school years. sometimes they still post, but it’s sporadic if anything. they used to do a lot of q&a videos. they would often talk about working on music and talking about their gender identity and sexuality ( they’re pansexual ). they wanted to have a voice for themselves, and doing something like that was the best way to do that.

with everything, rosalind kept from saying anything outwardly bad about their old parent company. people never understood why--when it was clear that they had been terribly unhappy and troubled at the old company.

recently, rosalind has opened up about it. they experienced a lot of wrongdoings from the company in their childhood, given the company’s outright display of their gender identity and how it didn’t fit with the image. but rosalind still wished nothing but the best for the people whom they’d worked with. there was nothing that the cast & crew had done wrong to them. the people with whom they spent so many hours of their formative years were nothing but excellent and kind and hardworking people.

they’re a people person, loving to be around other people. but they’re also always a bit nervous about big crowds. idk what it is. one on one they’re amazing and chatty, but crowds make them nervous? but stage stuff is wonderful? they can definitely hold themselves in a crowd or captivate a room.

they’ve done a handful of made for television movies in the recent years. recently they’ve released new music after a long period of nothing. they did an extended play belong and a full length album then & now. ( rosalind’s early music is canon hilary duff ie metamorphasis and hilary, which for rp purposes is called rosalind )

rosalind is currently labelless. they haven’t been with a parent label since everything at their old one blew up.

they have a fear of being controlled by any company if they were to work for a specific label again, so they haven’t cared to look for one.

maybe they’ll tour again in the future?? who knows.

rosalind was recently cast to play DAPHNE BLAKE in an upcoming live action scooby doo television series.

#excessintro #❥ ━━━ out of char ❜

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kierongillen · 5 years

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Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine: The Funnies

Spoilers, obv.

I suspect this will lean a little shorter than usual, partially because it’s more an editorial, sitting back position than any other issue of WicDiv and partially as DIE is out tomorrow, and there’s a lot of plates I’m keeping spinning.

But let’s see, eh?

Last year, when we did the Christmas Special, doing a comedy special was the other option. We decided to keep that in the can, simply because I was trying to visualise what on earth it would be like. Would I ask people to write stuff? Would I write it all? Could I somehow get The Wicked + the Canine to fill the whole issue? We went for Jamie’s idea (which required less conceptual engineering, so was easy, despite being more actual writing work) and saved this for the end.

Which is nice. End of school party, right?

Jamie/Matt’s Cover: Jamie and I have a piece of performance twitter, where I make puns and he pretends to hate them. Okay, that’s not true at all. He hates them, as is only right, as they are designed to be hated. When we have Skype calls, and Chrissy and I sit beside each other, when I drop a pun, Chrissy makes a face which… well, Jamie’s wants to grab it as a gif. It’s quite the thing.

Anyway – a variety of responses to puns. The pun is, I suspect, the best one I’ve dropped on twitter. One day I’ll write an essay on What I Do With Puns. But not today. It didn’t get a ludicrous number of retweets when I dropped it (and deleted my whole stream, as I do sporadically – don’t worry, I store everything before I do). It had an afterlife though being reblogged on tumblr (I think last time it was about 130k interactions), used in big websites’ pun round-ups, put on T-shirts and straight up stolen and tweeted by other people.

So let’s stick it on a cover, and show the variety of responses to it. Of course, Baph would like it.

I really like what Matt did with the colours here as well.

Margaux Saltel’s cover: Margaux is great. I got to know her distantly when C was editing superfreaks, and actually got a chance to hang properly at this year’s thought bubble. She’s got a real playfulness to her art, which this fascinating design sense. Adorable big dog staring at the reader was the first thing I thought of when planning this issue, really.

IFC

Intro page to explain what’s going on, with pop-comic design by Sergio, headlines courtesy of C. If you haven’t read it, give it a scan, because I big up all our collaborators.

How did we decide how to ask? Far too many options. Our comic friends are very funny. We tended to ask people as it occurred to us, see how many pages they wanted to do, and then work out how many pages we had left

The Wicked + the Canine

I lured Erica into this by basically promising her to draw six pages of as many dogs as she liked. Write for your artist.

The pun was basically to amuse Chrissy, and grew into a story. I thought it could be longer (and it could have) but realised it’s best to cut it short – the backbone of Ananke as trainer, and the dogs as untrainable pups, is basically the core of it. Plus the big kick in seeing everyone done in dog form.

I threw some ideas into the mix of how the dogs could be differentiated (For example, Sakhmet as a cat and Woden as clearly-not-a-puppy in a cone of shame) but really left it to Erica to draw whatever dogs she liked. I actually suggested they all be Labradors, but Erica wanted to stretch and play, and it’s all wonderful. The worry is in terms of race-coding the dogs, which is something we avoided.

I think my favourite is Baphopup.

The white-background and “get in the sack” is a wonderful bit of cartooning. How the lack of background stresses it all.

That it was basically done to make C laugh means that it’s part of a history of my dog based comics, which also includes the Christmas issue of Journey Into Mystery, where Loki has to give away seven hell-hounds. I think Thori is the character I co-created for the Marvel Universe who has had the longest life in terms of being used by other people. Adorable sweary murderous puppies can’t go wrong.

I’m pleased that people seemed to like it. That it’s a six page story where the joke is “Evil old lady doesn’t throw trusting pups in the river” is not exactly family comedy special material. I suspect if you’ve stuck along with WicDiv this far, you know what we’re like.

This is also a story which implicitly spoils the book, in terms of Ananke being a shameless manipulator of the pups. A lot of the stories are similar, which means this is a comic designed for relief of those who came along for all the issues.

The Wicker + the Divine Lizz Lunney is one of my favourite British cartoonists, and whole fierce scowl has petrified me for the decade or so I’ve known her. Lunney hadn’t read much of WicDiv before, so we lobbed her the PDFs, and found something fun to mock in terms of how ludicrously call-back-y we are.

Go support her stuff. She’s great.

The Lost God

Chip’s just a phenomenon, and his rising career across the last decade has been basically the most delightful surprise in the period. Immediately I have to swallow the urge to do the usual “Because he’s rubbish” chip-baiting joke, which says a lot. Chip is so much fun. That he’s both one of Marvel’s biggest, most interesting writers now and half of one of the most popular and definitive indie comics of the period is something else. Like, he’d be a legend if only for his internet jokes. That’s a footnote now. Amazing.

Anyway – we meet the first Kieron and Jamie version. Chip’s one is delightful – the over-tortured pun is on the money, but the real joy is Jamie McKelvie’s Hellboy-esque hyper-developed single arm. Every time I look at that, I laugh. Plus the accent. Marvelous.

“Wossat?! Time paste this nob, innit?” is just poetry.

Gentle Annie Vs The World

Talking about poetry…

Chrissy is WicDiv’s editor and also a poet, and has done some indie comics before – as well as co-editing the anthology Over The Line, which is an introduction to Poetry Comics. This isn’t that. This is her just channelling her loathing of Gentle Annie’s obfuscatory nonsense, and I love it so.

Clayton and Dee step in on the art duties. It was Clayton’s idea to drop in the Scott Pilgrim parody Annie at the top, which is very cute, and implicitly shows the modes he can work on. The realism of each scene, and the sense of place is great. Also, the Banshees poster in the doctor’s office is hilarious.

Making A Difference

This is fun. Romesh is a proper famous comedian, and digs WicDiv, so thought it’d be fun to write for the medium. As his script was coming together, I thought of Julia Madrigal’s Giant Days issue, and realised it’d fit well. She had to do it on her trip to Japan, which involved some hilarious jetlag.

Dee’s doing some powerhouse things here with the purple-white lighting too. That’s hyper-strong.

“Fresh Prince of Baal Air” is a hell of a line, in passing, and I think this may have the prize for the darkest punchline of the whole issue.

5 Things Everyone Who’s Lived With Sakhmet Will Understand

I loved Hamish’ Pantheon, which is a playful but entirely accurate retelling of Egyptian myth. Hamish also won this year’s Russ Manning Promising Newcomer Award, so clearly should be doing something else rather than being talked into playing around with us lot. Thankfully, he didn’t.

I think my favourite moment is Persephone’s glance up as Sakhmet walks across the keyboard.

18 Go Made In Wiltshire

Kitty and Larisa have done a bunch of stuff, but I have to put a special plug for where I first met them – TAYLOR SWIFT GIRL DETECTIVE: SECRETS OF THE STARBUCK LOVERS. It’s illustrated prose, and utterly delightful, so was honoured to have them along.

This is all an accurate and extensive skewering of what we’re doing, with a not-perfect Scooby Doo mash-up. I did try to talk them out of including all the characters, as that’s so much work, but they could not be stopped. This meant that working out speaking orders was the main formal issue to worry about.

Now, there’s lots of mockery of me in this issue, but reducing Laura down to “Everyone is so hot! Let’s make out with them!” was absolutely the I Feel Called Out Right Now moment. She’s more than that, right? Right?

While the “WicDiv is a scooby do plot” complete with “Evil old man reveal” is lots of fun, the bit which makes me laugh every time I flick through is the “I would have got away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling ki—” “Oh, fuck off.” Oh, Lucifer, Never change.

Enquiring Minds Want To Know: What’s Your Guilty Pleasure Song

Cover-artist Margaux joined by the irrepressible Kate Leth. I’m really into how the two play together – Kate wanted to cut things tight, and the “Short moment” illustrated with Margaux’s warmth is fascinating. Like, have the two other Norns ever looked more delighted and engaged than they are at the end of page six?

In terms of Kieron and Jamie baiting, Grumpy Jamie in full Captain Marvel Gear and me trying to write an essay in any given space is fun and mean (which is how we like it). And I’ve just realised that writing more about this script would only be underlining Kate’s point, so I better stop.

Secret Origin

I wrote it, and offered it to Jamie. Really, the point of the specials is to create a space in the schedule so Jamie can get ahead, but he couldn’t resist this one. It’s cathartic closure, at the least.

Choosing the puns was tricky – I realised it had to be a chain, so chose this one which amused Katie West, which was tweeted when visiting them in Edinburgh. So I was in range of punching.

As always, this is Jamie expression masterclass, and a little self-mocking of my tendency to go full clockwork in my story universes is fun. I hope so anyway.

28 pages of comics, which is quite the thing. I don’t suspect we’ll be making much (if any) money from this issue after paying everyone, but that’s fine. It’s a party, innit?

Oh, it was nearly 2000 words. It’s never short, is it? It’s never short.

WicDIv 40 is out tomorrow (December 5th), which starts our final arc, “Okay.” Hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for reading.

#WicDiv #the wicked and the divine #writer notes

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mister-lucky-bunny · 5 years

Text

Scooby Doo: Monster Menagerie Chpt. 5

Description: Mystery Inc. joins Grimwood and her students, as the question of Shaggy returning to teach looms in the air.

Scooby Doo: Monster Menagerie

Chapter 5: Unexpected News

The fire crackled slowly into nothingness as time went on. It illuminated the entire room, making everything look warm. Upon the walls of this room were various pictures, mostly painted, and a few hunting trophies. Above the mantle would be a glass case, holding various medals and other types of military honors. Sitting in a large, cozy looking chair opposite of the fireplace would be a middle aged man, staring intently into the fire, lost in his own thoughts. His fingers intertwined together and rested near his chin as he began to speculate. This man, while retired from the military, still went by the title of Colonel. This man, Colonel Calloway, was in charge of Calloway's Military School for Boys.

His school started out quite small, student wise. While he only had a total of five students, he made sure to work them quickly into perfect shape. He had recently retired from the Army when he opened the school, and unfortunately, despite his numerous honors, he was still quite short on funds to open the school. Reality isn't fun, it seems. Still, Colonel Calloway managed to find cheap estate out in the swamps of Louisiana. In all honesty, it wasn't at all the place he wanted to run his prestigious school, but it would have to do. Besides, his optimistic side told him that living out in a harsh environment would be good to help with survival instincts in his students.

Despite his best efforts, even he couldn't blame parents who didn't trust a school out in the middle of practically nowhere. It certainly didn't help that the building close by was considered haunted by many! He had a school to run, and nothing would stop him. Not even a strange, if charming, woman, who just so happened to live in that building. There was certainly something off putting about her, but Calloway could never figure out what it was. Not that he had time to explore for himself, for he had students to teach.

His five original students (which he now called the Five Stars of Calloway's), would consist of five boys named Tug, Grunt, Jamal, Miguel, and Baxter. He felt that they were a bit... scatterbrained at times, but were eager to please their Colonel, and they always managed to give 110 percent. He grew quite close to these boys, even if they tended to get into trouble... a lot. Even if they went against his orders more often than he cared for, they definitely had lots of potential, and no event showed this off more than the annual volleyball game with the competitors: Grimwood's.

Calloway was quite confident in their ability, as they won every game that they played. There were often rumors of cheating, but he never seemed to take enough care to notice, or do anything about it. After all, victory was victory, and his team showed the skills necessary to secure the win. There was only one year he could think of where his team actually lost, and it was after their competitors managed to get themselves an actual coach.

If it were up to him, that man would not have gotten the position. He felt too laid back for his taste. He barely even had the body shape of someone who looked like they worked out! There was no denying results, of course. He lead Grimwood's to victory, leading to Calloway's first actual loss. This was a bit hit on his ego, for sure. Despite this, however, he knew that it meant he would have to push his students harder and harder. Shaping diamonds from coal, and all that.

Strangely enough, he had not seen the weird man ever since that game. When he asked Grimwood why, she merely said that he had other business to attend to. Even stranger, though, was the fact that she gave him the offer to coach her students. Unlike his students, who seemed to be in denial over the girls, he knew for a fact that they were abnormal. Clearly, ghouls would be the perfect term for them, as they were, quite literally, monsters. They were quite nice, of course, as was Grimwood. He got along with her very well, despite how strange he found her. Upon given the opportunity to coach her students, he took it up. He did not mind having to teach two different kinds of students, after all. This would give the girls an opportunity to see what a real coach could do, and not some laid back hippie.

From that day forward, he went back and forth between the schools. During his own student's study period, he would go to Grimwood's and teach the needed physical education there. Even though he never got used to the odd ways in which they worked out, he didn't play favorites. He treated these girls as if they were his own boys. It was normal for them to complain, almost on a daily basis. The hairy one would often grumble something about the previous coach being vastly superior to his own teaching methods. Calloway never let it bother him, as he figured these girls had never been pushed further than what they were used to. As for future volleyball games, his team would continue to win, though they would always win by the skin of their teeth. No doubt that the girls were quickly catching up in physical skill to match his boys. He also made sure that no cheating would occur on either side, as per Miss Grimwood's request.

As years went on, so did his teaching methods. However, he found it increasingly difficult to keep up with this type of teaching. Mostly because, even though Grimwood's stayed the same, more or less, his own building would become more and more popular. He began to bring in more students each year, all of whom were eager to get military training. His old fashioned methods seemed to work for him, in his situation. It was at this point that he got his Five Stars to consider helping him out in teaching these new students, which they quickly accepted. Never in all his years had pride for his students been so high.

Tug seemed to be a natural leader, even though he often got a bit too rough. He always pushed the others and never accepted quiters. Grunt, while large, was quite strong. It goes to show that being big doesn't mean one is lazy. His own teaching methods seemed to match Tug's somewhat. Jamal was slightly more understanding and patient, which made him a favorite among newcomers. He always expected the best out of others, and was willing to do whatever it took to let them show it. Miguel was quite smart, teaching the students about analyzing and more secretive work, rather than front line. As for Baxter, despite still being quite small, was always eager to please and do anything to make Calloway proud. Baxter always reminded the Colonel of himself when he was younger.

Tonight, though, he wasn't thinking about his students. He was thinking about Grimwood's, oddly enough. Before their year began, he had received a letter from Miss Grimwood, stating that his services were not needed this year, and he could remain at his own school so he could have more time to his duties. This was what was bothering him, mostly. Had she really found someone to replace his methods? If so, who was it? Surely not that same hippie from before? It should not have bothered him as much as it did, but he could not deny it. Hints of doubt filled his mind once more, his mind speaking to him about potential situations to arise later. Would this coach show him up? Would they make Calloway lose again? What if his students wanted to be taught by that coach instead of by him?

The Colonel rubbed his head and sighed, realizing how late he had stayed up. As the fire died down, he got up from his chair and headed to his bed. This would have to be something to discuss with Miss Grimwood later. For now, he would have to put these doubts and thoughts aside. A proper Colonel did not show weakness to his men, after all, and a lack of sleep certainly wouldn't help.

________________________

Shaggy looked between his both groups of friends, smiling nervously. It was always awkward to introduce two groups of friends, especially when one was a group of monsters. Scooby seemed preoccupied, being pet by Tanis to seem to back him up. He looked to the rest of Mystery Inc. and cleared his throat a bit. "Well uh... guys, like, meet the girls of Grimwood!" He said, waving his hand out to them. Sibella and Elsa waved politely, Tanis still hiding behind Scooby, still waving at them shyly. Winnie was still close to the group, sniffing them out curiously. As for Phanty, well...

"Hello friends of Shaggy's! It's such a scream to meet all of you! I don't think he's ever talked about you all before to us. Oh well, that's okay! He was probably too busy making sure we were in proper shape!" Phanty rambled excitedly, floating between each member and making sure to shake their hands as vigorously as possible. This sent a chill down their arms, since she was a phantom. Fred and Googie seemed to shrink back at the odd ghost girl eagerly greeting them all, while Daphne and Velma were more perplexed by her behavior. She was loud, sure, but by no means malicious. While her large grin and wide eyes were odd looking, they looked a lot more friendly than the detective's.

"Uh... nice to meet you too," Daphne said, feeling unsure of herself. Velma's mind began to work into overdrive. Why did a ghost, of all beings, need physical education? Her thoughts were quickly disbanded when the loud, maniacal laughter of the phantom filled the air, very pleased to be meeting new friends.

"And like, girls, these are my friends. Aside from me and Scoob, like, Freddie, Daphne, and Velma all make up Mystery Incorporated, a sort of... freelance investigation agency. Like, over there is Googie, a friend of mine who I uh... used to date!" Shaggy explained, pointing everyone out. Freddie gave a small smile, waving back. He seemed to loosen up, even if the other blond, who stuck closely to the group, did not. Mainly due to the fact that Winnie was now inches from her face, sniffing at her intently.

"Hm... you do seem like the kinda person who'd date Coach..." Winnie mused aloud. "A little jumpy, like him." The blond had no idea of that was meant to be an insult or not.

Before Googie could finish her mumbling about personal space, Miss Grimwood had clapped her hands a couple of times to get everyone's attention. After doing so, she'd speak again. "While I'm more than eager to let you all introduce yourselves more properly, I do believe that dinner is ready. Let's take these conversations to the dining room, shall we?" Upon the mention of food, it wasn't long before Shaggy and Scooby had a race into the dining area, the ghouls following after.

"Seems that Shaggy is still the big eater," Sibella joked, walking with the rest of the human group.

"You don't know the half of it," Velma replied, leading to a small laugh from the vampire. Googie was still on edge, due to the fact that Sibella was related to the boss of all vampires, Dracula. She wasn't sure if she was quite ready to trust her just yet, even if she was very polite and on good terms with Shaggy.

"So uh, Sibella, was it?" Googie began, somewhat nervously. The vampire turned her head, ready for whatever question the blond had to ask. "If I can ask, since you're a vampire and all, how do you... get your... sustenance?" She seemed to try and word her sentence very carefully, unsure if this was even the right time to ask such a question.

Thankfully, that didn't happen to be the case, as Sibella merely answered, "Don't worry, vampires don't drink that much blood, and when I need to, I only feed on any small animals if they're nearby."

For the most part, that answer seemed to satisfy Googie, although one thing did stick out to her. If they're nearby. "What do you do if there aren't any?" She continued on, raising an eyebrow. The answer, or lack thereof, is what freaked her out. Sibella merely flashed a mysterious smile, making sure to show off her fangs before heading off into the dining area.

"I'm pretty sure she was just riling you up," Daphne said, trying to comfort Googie. Regardless of the case, she was going to make sure to try and stick close to someone without fangs.

Before he stepped in, Fred put his hand on his chin, as if remembering something. "Um, Miss Grimwood? What about our bags? We left them out in the Mystery Machine."

Miss Grimwood nodded, not removing her gentle smile from her face. "Don't you worry about that, Freddie," She replied, clapping her hands once more. Soon, Freddie's eyes widened as he watched an... octopus with a tie walk (yes walk) over to the entrance. In a couple of quick minutes, he was returning, their bags being carried by his multiple tentacles as if it were nothing. "I assume you're staying the night, so he'll help show you where you'll be sleeping," The woman continued casually, leading Freddie into the next room.

'This place gets weirder and weirder...' He thought to himself.

The dining area was just as creepy looking as the rest of the place, although the lit fire from a nearby furnace made the whole area nice and warm. Of course, right next to the fire, was a large green reptile, resting by itself. Apparently, it wasn't too keen on all the loud noise it was hearing earlier, and was trying to keep to itself. Velma was the first to take notice of this, pointing to it. "Oh! Is that a... komodo dragon?" She asked, moving closer to get a better view of the sleepy, grumpy Matches.

Matches peeked it's head up, grumbling lowly. Who were these people? He didn't recognize any of them. Intruders! He would not stand for this! With a bit of a growl, his whole body seemed to change from green to a glowing red. Velma gulped and stepped back, hands up as she tried to talk him down. "Okay boy, easy..!"

As smoke flared from his nostrils, he started to ready a fireball until Miss Grimwood came in. "Matches! No setting the guests on fire!" The dragon immediately settled down, turning his head quickly to the woman before grumbling and curling back up.

"That's Matches, our pet dragon," Tanis explained, having already seated herself, along with a few others. "Sorry, he's usually quite nice..." Velma took notice that she was seating herself right next to Shaggy, with Scooby moving over to where Matches was, sitting right next to him. Surprisingly, the dragon didn't seem to care, giving a little grumble as a sort of greeting to the familiar dog. Scooby, in return, smiled in a friendly way before awaiting for food.

The smell of something cooking was in the air, although none of the humans could really guess what it was. As everybody took a seat, it was pretty predictable how it went. Freddie, Googie, Velma, and Daphne were seated to the left, in a sort of square, the ghouls on the right. Shaggy seemed to be the intermediary, sitting between the two groups. That didn't seem to stop Winnie from sitting across Shaggy, in between Sibella and Googie, who was eyeing her carefully. The werewolf didn't seem to notice. Once it looked like everyone was ready, Miss Grimwood began to serve dinner.

Along with Miss Grimwood, a single, floating white hand would help serve bowls of some sort of stew to everyone. Naturally, the hand put off the humans a tad, although once they were served, they began to examine the food served. Inside, the stew seemed normal. Brown broth, various items swimming in it. So far, the large bone floating inside would be a red flag, though it was known for some people to throw bones in soups and stews for flavor. Naturally, it didn't take long before Winnie was stirring the stew with it, gnawing on one end of the bone. All of the other ghouls had began eating the stew regularly, Shaggy not hesitating to join in as well. Scooby was also heartily slurping from his own portion.

Freddie, seeing his friend start to eat it, shrugged and took a spoon, helping himself to his serving. Googie and Daphne cautiously joined in, Velma starting to examine the stew for herself. With an eyebrow raised, she began to wonder if the vegetables in it looked... dead. Or at the very least rotten. While it certainly didn't smell awful, it was still best to be wary. Before Velma could ask the question in her mind, Shaggy seemed to do it for her, having already finished off half of his own bowl.

"Like, Miss Grimwood, this stuff is amazing! What's in it?" He asked before continuing to eat.

With a small smile, she took another bit of her own stew before answering. "It's a recipe I always serve on the first night back. 'Spider Leech Stew', with vegetables from our garden." She answered simply.

While the ghouls (and Scooby) kept eating the meal, the others seemed to slow down or stop. Shaggy was taken by surprise, staring into his bowl, eyes wide at the realization at what he was eating. Unable to help himself, however, he took another bite. He did say it was good, after all. Freddie slowed down as well, finding himself agreeing with Shaggy. It did taste good, that's for sure. For the rest of his meal, however, he seemed to be fishing out vegetables that looked the least rotten, avoiding the chunks of 'meat'. Daphne's eyes widened as she finished up her bite and gently pushed her bowl away.

"Erm, very lovely, but I ate before I got here..." Daphne said, quickly moving her bowl over to Scooby, who eagerly began seconds. To him, it was just more food. Odd food, but good food. Googie, predictably, looked like she was about to vomit, her spoon clattering as it hit against the bowl.

"Hey are you okay?" Winnie asked in between gnaws of her bone.

"Yeah, I just remembered I'm on a diet..." Googie gagged, quickly pushing her portion away as well.

As for Velma, she began to analyze the stew a bit more, curious about the cuisine. She eyed a brown piece of carrot, holding it up some. "I think you may have picked a few veggies past their prime."

At this point, Elsa turned, leaning forward to better talk to her. "She always makes sure to pick those ones. After all, they provide a better flavor for the spider meat, in my opinion," She replied, taking another bite from her bowl. With a nod and a small grimace, Velma slowly lowered her spoon back into the bowl.

"I see..." Velma decided to get her mind off of her strange meal by finding a topic of conversation. A couple of thoughts were prevalent in her mind, one of which wondering why and how a ghost was eating. She chose to skip that question until another time, instead asking a different question, directed towards the headmistress. "So, Miss Grimwood, you said something about a witch earlier?"

Any loose conversations that were going on quieted up a little as Velma asked her query. While it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was enough to make the girl wonder if she shouldn't have asked that. However, Miss Grimwood didn't seem to really care, taking time to answer her. "Oh yes. The year Shaggy taught us last, a mean witch took all of my ghouls under her control. Shaggy and Scooby were brave enough to venture into her castle and retrieve them, with the help of the Cadets."

Velma certainly would've liked a little more information than that, but instead, she seemed to ponder a little. "Jinkies... our Shaggy braving a place like that?" She said aloud. This time, Sibella replied to her.

"A very heroic deed, for sure," The vampire answered politely, taking another sip of her stew before turning to the bookworm. "A real shame he didn't stay longer, but I guess the new students did terrify him a little too badly." She ended her sentence with a small giggle, flashing a grin the hungry coward before returning to her meal.

"There are more students here?" Daphne cut in, curious as to if they'd be meeting any more students. At this point, everyone stiffened a little, feeling a bit awkward. Miss Grimwood answered again.

"We used to. As Shaggy and Scooby left, we did take in three new students. However, the aliens couldn't adapt too well with Earth's atmosphere and had to return to where they came. Godzina turned out to hit her growth spurts quite rapidly. And as for Goonie, well... her and her father had to quickly move away after she attacked someone. I don't believe it was fatal, but still left an impact on the poor victim, from what I heard."

At this point, the members of Mystery Inc. shared a surprised, yet knowing, glance between each other. They had a general idea as to who the victim was. Before anyone could say anything else, Elsa decided to speak up again. "It's not too surprising. They weren't too big a fan of... the new coach." She ended simply, moving her gaze over to Winnie, who looked noticeably agitated upon the mention of whoever this coach was.

"Yeah... workin' us until we could barely move, strict as anything, and annoyin'! I'd rather shave myself bald than have to work out with Colonel Cun-"

Sibella cleared her throat loudly, quickly cutting off whatever curse she was about to swear, Miss Grimwood giving a warning glare at the werewolf. She grumbled and quickly began to stuff her face with stew once again. At that moment, Phantasma began to laugh a little, perking up some. "But hey, we don't have to worry about that anymore! After all, Coach Shaggy's back!"

The lanky man froze a bit, eyes widened as the other humans looked between each other. From the way the other ghouls looked appreciative of the phantom's comment, it was quite obvious they expected him to resume his old, if short lived, position. After a few second of Shaggy saying nothing, Tanis spoke up, looking up at him expectantly. "...you are going to teach us again, right..?"

Shaggy lowered his spoon, looking between the two groups. To his right, five monster girls looked at him, smiling gently and awaiting his answer. To his left, his friends were also watching him, a bit curious, also wondering what he would say. Scooby lowered himself, trying to hide himself from view, not knowing what he was going to say either. After a bit, he cleared his throat and looked to Tanis, giving a nervous smile. "Uh... like, we'll see. I'm definitely going to consider it, but like, I may need a bit of time to mull it over," He replied.

He had no idea if that was the right answer or not, but he knew that he wouldn't mind teaching the girls again. They were nice and quite fun to teach. On the other hand, he knew that he couldn't abandon his friends for a year again. Besides, he knew that they were there for a reason. A terrifying reason, but one that he knew his friends needed help with. He figured he could consult with them to see what they would say about it. Currently, the girls had taken to whispering among themselves, somewhat excited about the idea of having their favorite coach return. The others looked unsure, not knowing what to really do either.

After some time, Miss Grimwood took notice that everyone was done with dinner. She stood up and got everyone's attention with a clap of her hands. "Well, I'll discuss this manner with Shaggy in private. For now, all of you girls go ahead and get some rest. Classes begin tomorrow, after all." The ghouls began to stand and move in various directions. Sibella and Winnie went upstairs, Tanis moving downstairs. Elsa appeared to go into a different room entirely, and Phanty simply phased through the ceiling, up to the next floor without using stairs. This left only Miss Grimwood, the rest of the humans, Scooby, and a sleeping Matches.

After a bit of silence, Fred spoke to Shaggy. "So, Shags, what's it gonna be?" He didn't seem to ask this in any sort of accusatory tone, merely a curious one.

Shaggy rubbed the back of his head, feeling somewhat guilty. "Like, I dunno, man. On one hand, I don't want to let down your students. But like, on the other... we are here to investigate, right?" He said, directing his last question towards his cohorts.

Before anyone could answer, Miss Grimwood spoke up again. "Investigating? May I ask what?"

Velma decided to answer this time. "Well, there was a recent attack on someone from the nearby town. We were going to look into what caused it."

Miss Grimwood raised her eyebrows, an unreadable look on her face. "So you decided to come here?"

"Well, we got some advice from someone working on the case. He said to come check this place out," Freddie answered.

"Him and the locals are claiming that whatever attacked the victim wasn't human... or animal for that matter." Daphne finished, rubbing her arm a bit. She didn't want to act like she was blaming Miss Grimwood or her students. They all acted and felt too nice to do something like that.

"Hm," Miss Grimwood replied simply, her own thoughts moving around in her brain. "I guess I don't blame you for coming here." She sat up a bit straighter, her voice having a bit of a thoughtful tone. "However, I don't think it's fair to let down my students, so if I may propose a compromise?"

The others looked to each other, giving silent confirmation before turning back to the older woman. Googie rubbed her arm, feeling... awkward. She wasn't really a part of the team, and she wasn't even saying anything on the matter. She wanted to say more, but didn't really know if she had the obligation to.

Once everyone was prepared for her explanation, Miss Grimwood grinned and continued. "I propose that in return for another year of tenure, I'll allow you to stay as long as you need to. You'll be free to investigate as long as you need. I have spare rooms, so you don't have to worry about sleeping in your van, or some motel." She began to reach into her pocket, pulling out a scroll and moving her free hand to the side, leaving it open. Soon, the floating hand dropped off a plain feather, already having been dipped in ink. "My only conditions are that you don't harm my students, and that Coach Shaggy stays on campus. What do you all say?"

Another round of looking between other occurred. As Miss Grimwood waited patiently for Shaggy's answer, Velma spoke up first. "Well, in my opinion, that's a really good compromise."

"What if we don't find the answers we're looking for?" Freddie asked, not sure if he was willing to sleep in a creepy place.

"It'll be a learning experience, either way. Imagine, getting to know actual monsters and how they live and act firsthand!" She continued, a little excited at the prospect.

"Besides, it's not like they're mean. I think it could be kinda fun," Daphne said, smiling gently.

"Well... that makes sense, I guess." Freddie grinned at Shaggy, as if giving him permission.

Everyone took a glance at Googie, who had a stumped look on her face. Why were they expecting her to answer? It took her off guard, but after a little, she got the courage to speak. "...I mean, if he wants to, I can't stop him," She replied, feeling dumb. "Wouldn't hurt to explore a bit more too, I suppose," She trailed off, not knowing if she meant what she said.

In that moment, Scooby propped himself up, smiling and giving an 'okay' sign with his paw. With a smile that grew wider, he gently accepted the quill and nodded. "Like, you got yourself a deal, Miss G," He replied, signing his name on the scroll.

Miss Grimwood beamed as he finished up, quickly rolling the scroll and tucking it away. "Excellent! Now, all of you should get some sleep to. Gym is the first class of the day, and they'll be expecting you outside near the graveyards," She said, directing the last point to Shaggy. He gave a nod and began to stand up.

"Like, sounds good with me. C'mon guys, let's hit they hay," He stated simply. Soon, everyone else got up, the octopus butler from before standing at the doorway.

"Take them to their rooms, please," The woman requested gently, waving a hand. With a slight bow, the octo-butler did just that, leading them upstairs.

A quick flash of blue quickly swooped back up into the ceiling, an excited face on the specter who was watching the entire exchange. She was laughing, although trying to be a bit quieter than usual as to not give away that she was eavesdropping. Phanty was, however, pumping her fist up and down repeatedly and vigorously, as if in victory. "Yessss!" She squealed as quietly as possible (which was more like a loud whisper).

In a room close by, a certain werewolf was doing the exact same thing, fist pumping in the air as her tail went nuts behind her. Winnie had cracked her door open a little, moving her ear towards it to listen in. Her superior hearing managed to take in most of the conversation, letting her know that Shaggy would indeed return to be their coach, and not that stuck up, anal, slave-driving Colonel.

It was already turning out to be an interesting year, that's for sure.

#scooby doo #scooby doo fanfiction #scooby doo monster menagerie #fanfiction #dylan writes

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