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madfantasy · 3 years

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I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

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chelsgal1993 · 3 years

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He doesn't hate you (part 2)

After the incident in the closet you and bakugou started dating. Bakugou was currently in one of his moods. You weren't really sure what set him off things seemed fine this morning.

"Look (y/n), we need to talk," he said as you both entered your dorm room. You heard these words before. They usually meant the other person was breaking things off with you.

"A-are you.... b-breaking up with me," you asked stuttering afraid of what his answer would be.

"What? Hell no! Why would you think something stupid like that," he asked.

"W-well normally those words are followed by a break up," you said.

"No. I am not breaking up with you. I wanted to talk about the things that happened today during our classes. You have been a god damn tease all day. Do you understand how hard it is not to just take you where I want," he stated.

"I don't understand... I haven't been a tease," you said completely confused by his outburst of sexual frustration.

"You seriously have no clue? Okay, let me just fill you in. First off you kept leaning over your desk and I could see your panties every time you did it. During training today it was extremely difficult not to just rip your hero costume off of you. The way you just came from no where and straddled me was not only extremely hot but I had to hold back on taking you right there. The way you walk pisses me off. Your hips swish back and forth in such a provocative way. You have been bending over in front of me a lot recently. I honestly feel like it's intentional at this point. You wore lip gloss today. You never wore that before. It makes me think of what that pretty little mouth would look like wrapped around my cock," he stated boldly.

At this point your face had become super red. You had never noticed any of those things and didn't think they would get this sort of reaction from him. Letting your eyes wonder down you could see the bulge in his pants. He noticed you were staring and he palmed at himself through his pants.

"I have been dealing with this all day. You have no idea how frustrating it is," he said. He went to your bed laying down on his back and put his arm over his eyes. Probably to try and calm himself.

You weren't sure you were ready to have sex just yet, but you could always help him another way. You placed yourself between his legs and rubbed your palm across the bulge in his pants. You could hear his breath hitch.

"What are you doing," he asked sitting up on his elbows to look at you.

"Well I was thinking I could help. I mean you did say I caused the issue. I am not ready to have sex just yet but I could help another way," you said as you reached for his belt to unbuckle it. After that was done you undid his pants and with his help you pulled his pants down.

That left his pants pooled around his ankles and his boxers still on. He watched you intently as you rubbed him through his boxers causing him to groan. Your hand felt so much better than his own, even through the boxers. After pumping him for a few you pulled down his boxers. Of course he had to help by lifting himself up so you could pull them down. Unfortunately you were a little to close to him as you pulled down his boxers causing his cock to bounce off his lowers abs only for it to come back down and smack you in the face (this has never happened to me before *eyes shifting around*)

You could hear him chuckle as you stare at his size. He wasn't huge but very well endowed. You honestly don't think you would be able to take him all the way in your mouth. You pushed him back down so he was on the bed. You brought your mouth close enough to kiss the tip. You could feel him shudder.

You brought your mouth around his tip and licked around the head. You heard him groan as he threw his head back. This urged you to continue. Taking more of him in slowly making sure to leave enough saliva to coat his cock to help your lips glide over him.once you got as far as you could go you placed your hand around the rest of him and began to bob your head up and down.

"Fuck. Babe that feels so good," he moaned out. You began to feel yourself become wet. You reached down to touch yourself through your clothes with your free hand. After a minute you could feel bakugou put his hands in your hair. He pulled up gently so he didn't hurt you.

"Are you touching yourself," He stood up and helped you stand as well. In a swift movement he pulled your panties and skirt off.

"B-Bakugou wait! I don't think I am ready," he rolled his eyes and tossed you on the bed. He was down on the floor with your legs over his shoulders.

"Well I figured since you were playing with it I could too. We don't have to go that far if your aren't ready but I can at least return the favor," he said giving your clit a small lick with his tongue. After he started locking he inserted a finger into you and moved it in and out slowly. He added a second finger as his tongue continued its assault on your clit. He began a scissoring motion. You cloud feel something happening in your lower abdomen. After a bit the pressure was getting to be to much. The pressure felt like it would burst any second but then Bakugou pulled away.

"W-what? Why did you stop," you asked.

"I don't want you to finish yet. I am going to lay down and you will climb on top with your pussy and ass on my face. I want you to suck my cock while I eat this delicious pussy," he said.

He laid down and you climbed on top of him. You brought his cock back into your mouth and got him wet again before you began bobbing you head. Bakugou let you suck him off for a few minutes while he just laid back. You didn't think he was going to finish what he started until he began sucking on your clit inserting two of his fingers. This caused you to moan around his dick. He bucked his hips up almost causing you to gag. He began to buck his hips in time with you bobbing your head. Each time allowed you to take him in just a little bit further. He slowly added a third finger and he pumped his fingers in and out of your wet pussy. He continued to lick and suck your clit alternating between the two.

The pressure you felt before had returned and was building up and you felt it would burst. Bakugou felt you twitch around his fingers signaling you were close to your end. He went a little faster hitting a spot that made you see stars. You felt him twitching in your mouth as you came a pushed your head down making you take him in all the way as he came making you swallow his cum. Once he finished he let your head go letting you come up for air.

You rolled off of him and turned yourself to snuggle with him until you realized he was soaking wet.

"babe why are you all wet, " you asked. It looked like someone sprayed him with a hose.

"you do realize I am all wet because of you. You squirt by the way, " he said casually.

"I have never done that before, " you.look at him completely baffled.

"what can I say, I am good at everything I do. Now lay down and let's got to bed, " he said.

"No. Go shower while I change my bedding, then we will sleep, " you said.

He sighed but got up to shower anyway. Once he finished and you changed your bedding and brushed your teeth you both got in your bed and went to sleep.

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A/n: If you decide you want to support my work I also have a kofi set up. It's totally optional just putting it here because some people on other sites have asked.

Ko-fi.com/chelsgal1993

#mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #mha lemon #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #bnha smut #bnha lemon #bnha x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou smut

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Uncle Scrooge by Don Rosa: The Isle at the Edge of Time (Thank You Comission For Rosie Isla)

Hello all you happy people! Today’s review is a bit special as it’s the result of another review. See I had trouble finding a translation of the subject of last weeks’ mother’s day special, Family Ties.

No not that one. I have Paramount+. I can watch all the Family Ties I want and that’s a fact that i’m pleased as punch about.

No it was the story 80 is Prachtig, called Family Ties in the copy used, Della’s first major comics appearance and one that explains what happened to her in the classic continuity, one that clearly served as the foundation for her far more fleshed out 2017 versions personality and backstory. It also had Pinocchio in it for some reason, and spent most of it’s large run time on a meta comedy plot that had nothing to do with the reason anyone wanted to read this story in the first place.

But despite being a vitally important story, it never got an english translation, something that baffled me till I read the story and found cameos of the racist indigenous stereotypes from Peter Pan. In 2014. You may commence booing. Even with how weird the story was I simply couldn’t find the story googling it and the Della tag is too vast and deep to go spelunking in.

So what’s all this have to do? Simple I put out a post last month when neither I nor Kev, who wanted to comission it as part of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my coverage of all three season 2 Ducktales story arcs, could find a copy and offered a review to whoever found it. Weeks passed I got nothing.. then in the 11th hour I got a break as the lovely @rosieisla found a translation that was on this very site, one she seemed to have helped with. As a result I could do the review and as a man of my word, offered it up despite her clearly having not seen that part of the post and simply having done this to be nice. Still she gladly took up the offer and offered me my pick of two stories: The Carl Barks Story Back to Long Ago or this one.

As for WHY I picked this one Back To Long Ago didn’t seem bad, i’m just not a fan of “The Cast is put in the past as their own ancestors” type deals. Or in some cases put the cast as people from that time period. It’s just not for me and is most often done in TV where it can get really goofy, Beverly Hills 90210 being a prime example of this, though Girl Meets World was no slouch in being embarassing... that being said I really need to finish that show and miss it.

So yeah when put up against a story with two intresting hooks and FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, even if i’ts not the version that’s my boy, it was no contest. So what are these hooks you ask? Well join me under the cut and find out.

We open with a weird stylistic choice: This story has a narrator complete with caption boxes. Now for those of you familiar with comics or pastiches of comics in tv and film, this probably dosen’t seem like a big deal. It was a common thing in comics from their inception to 90′s to have caption boxes, big boxes of text narrating the action to help move things along faster. It did start to fade out by the 80′s and was gone by the end of the 90′s for the most part, replaced instead with first person narration. It’s the kind of thing you’d see most often in the Golden and Silver Ages, with stuff like tihs

It’s not a BAD device, it’s good old cheesy and bombastic fun and some writers did get clever with it.. like that time Chris Claremont used the narration to yell at a greiving cyclops after he lost a teammate early in his long and storied run on the uncanny x-men.

This is a objectively weird scene that’s still somehow effective by the by. On the one hand it does come off as Chris Claremont essentally bullying Cyclops who already feels guilty for a death that was not in fact his fault as Thunderbird was told the plane he was attacking with fleeing villian Count Nefaria was about to explode and refused to listen.. and that they needed to get rid of either him or Wolverine as both served the same purpose and chose the non-white guy.

On the other htough it comes off just as much as Scott beating himself up in his grief and anger over the event and his perceived failings as a leader. It’s good stuff and shows why this run caught on as this was only three issues in. Also the rest of the issue features the X-Men fighting a giant cyclopian demon that Cyclops accidently freed in his rage by destroying the stone thing keeping him imprisoned. No really here’s the cover

Huh so tha’ts what Nifty’s dad looks like. Neat. Also I REALLY hope we get the X-Men fighting aliens or demons in the MCU. Unlike the XCU the MCU isn’t alergic to getting batshit.. and for the record Deadpool and New Mutants are the exception, not the rule.

My point that I swear I do have is that this was common practice for most comics.. but never really for Disney Duck comics. It popped up ocasionally, like with Scrooge’s introduction, but Barks and those after him never really used them that much. Sure they’d have caption boxes for flasbacks and what not but Barks and Co geninely only used this sort of thing to set up a story. The most i’ve seen it in a duck comic is life and times and even then i’ts usually only used for gags or to set up the passage of time, as the story IS covering decades and thus often needed to have montages to show time passing, and in the case of chapter 11, had to cover decades in the span of a single chapter, so it’s not like they had many other options. So even Rosa as a personal quirk didn’t really use these often.

Rosa used this specifically because he felt the plot was complicated by the use of the international date line. As for what it is, it’s essentially a line marking calender dates from one side of the hemisphere to the others. To use the offical defentition from the National Ocean Service I found via a quick google:

“The International Date Line, established in 1884, passes through the mid-Pacific Ocean and roughly follows a 180 degrees longitude north-south line on the Earth. It is located halfway round the world from the prime meridian—the zero degrees longitude established in Greenwich, England, in 1852.

The International Date Line functions as a “line of demarcation” separating two consecutive calendar dates. When you cross the date line, you become a time traveler of sorts! Cross to the west and it’s one day later; cross back and you’ve “gone back in time."

Despite its name, the International Date Line has no legal international status and countries are free to choose the dates that they observe. While the date line generally runs north to south from pole to pole, it zigzags around political borders such as eastern Russia and Alaska’s Aleutian Islands.”

Rosa felt this made the story complicated.... and that... really isn’t remotely true. The narration is mostly used for gagas and really dosen’t clarify anything. it’s mostly used well in the opening.. but the actual explinations for the date line are clear enough in the story that even if I hadn’t looked the thing up, I still would’ve got it and i’m sure a kid would’ve too. It just feels like a weird thing to ruminate on, especially because he’s got actual things to make up for: while to his credit the native american characters he cribbed from carl barks are sympathetic, their culture respected and treated decently and used for a green aseop, their dialouge is stitled and sterotypical something he dosen’t even comment on (And these trades ewren’t THAT long ago)

And of course it dosen’t help that he dosen’t even comment on using a common device in american superhero boooks.. in the same volume where he ONCE again makes an unwanted and outdated diatribe about superhero comics. I’ll probably cover the Super Snooper Strikes again so I can throughly tear this apart but higlights include: Calling superhero comics “Unwanted” just because he dosen’t like them personally, when people like me would disagree and they’ve lasted through a LOT of highs and lows, outdately saying they took over the American market as the only suitable comics which while true for a TIME,but by 2015 when this book was printed is laughably out of date, as non superhero works like The Walking Dead, Saga, and Scott Pilgrim were massively popular, one of my faviorite comics that is entirely slice of life and would go on to bea huge hit, Giant Days, re-debuted that very year. He also has the fucking gal to insult The Uncanny X-Men by name and I swear to god I did not know this when I made those references earlier, but as you probably guessed REALLY god me livid.

And this is just on his COMMENTS on the story I can’t imagine just how bad the content itself is and having read the first few pages which come off as Rosa using Donald to essentially do an “old man yells at cloud rant” about superhero comics, I really don’t want to. Might make htis a patreon exclusive or again would do it on comissoin. You all make the call.... the point is I don’t likes his elitist bullshit about superhero comics, and this is clearly something that gets my hackles up as I just spent a good two paragraphs of an entirely unrealted review yelling at the guy for it. I don’t like when he does this and this authors notes entirley felt like an excuse. I GET the dark age of comics were bad, they REALLY were that bad, but I will NEVER accept painting an enitre genre as bad just because one work in it is bad. And I wont accept it from someone who himself writes about an often throughly unlikeable anti-hero for a living. Scrooge may not have a gun on his gun on his gun or get to stabbing or have pouches, but he DOES finacially abuse his nephew, scoff at people’s personal troubles, and often refuse to use his wealth to help others in general. So yeah in conclusion Rosa really needs to say less about this subject.

Okay so where were we.. right the story hadn’t even started yet. Jesus.

Okay so our story begins with the narrator. Whose going on about time and what not. The main point of this speech about time is that it’s night in Duckburg and Scrooge is going to bed as, even being the workhorse that he is, he can’t keep going 24 hours. While he’s snoozing though something major happens and it’s the hook that made me pick this story along with the international dateline one.. an island rises thanks to volcanic erruption.. and the lava is GOLD. That’s just pure unabashed classic Duck Stuff: a mysterious treasure or phenominon of gold bound to bring scrooge in.

But Scrooge isn’t stupid: the sun comes up and the world still spins while he sleeps, so he set up a satalite to monitor for this sort of thing. The thing naturally goes nuts.. and even more naturally breaks down becasue Scrooge bought cheap parts. A nice gag and a fully in character way to bring our antagonist into the picture, as the Satellite of Loaded falls in the middle of South Africa... right on the property of my boy Flintheart Glomgold.

This is something Rosa brought up in his commentary for the story i’d never thought about. It turns out Glomgold being a citzen of Duckburg WASN’T an invention of the original Ducktales but the comics: some overseas had understandably moved him from his home country of South Africa. Him bieing in the same town as Scrooge instead of half a world away allows for easier setups and more intresting ones.

Rosa however being obdient to Barks Version of things, ketp Glomgold in South Africa like barks did, which was an .. ifffy decision given Apartheid had JUST ended at the time of this story. Not so much in the reboot as not only had apartheid been long gone by the time of the reboot, but that’s more fair. Still we do get some gorgeous vistas as a result as Glomgold’s minon goes to look at it and finds it’s from McDuck Mining company... Glomgold’s reaction is obvious.

So on that note we cut to Scrooge rushing to Donalds house and forcing him awake and not telling him anything at first. Look his Ducktales Counterpart straight up kidnapped his donald in my last review, I’d call this a win. He also tries to dress Donald while explaning both his panic to find the crashed satlitle and what it found: the golden island. The end result of him dressing donald is worth a chuckle

So after Donald puts his shirt and little hat on our heroes get rollin rollin rollin what keep rollin rollin rollin who to Manilla. On the plane we get the scene I mentioned: The boys make a quip about Scrooge having lost a day and the group go over the international date line. It’s a fun little scene especially Donald trying to get paid early at the end. Classic scrooge and donald stuff without the abusive undertones some of their classic stuff has.

Meanwhile Glomgold works out the data and finds out about the gold island, and his excitement accidently wakes a giraffe outside.. welll it was nice knowing him, Giraffes are the deadliest species known to man.. here’s an educational video t back that up....

youtube

So at Manilla Airport, Scrooge finds out abotu the south african crash, figuring he’ll get a laugh out of glomgold being there ... only for Donald to spot the Jet. Scrooge figures this can’t be anything good... now come on man maybe he’s just promoting his energy drink.

As super sayin god super sayian as my witness, I will never get tired of Ultra Instinct Glomgold here.

Scrooge isn’t so nice about that though and figures he better find out if Glomgold knows about the island and bribes one of the fueling crew for his uniform. He sucesssfully eavesdrops on Glomgold talking to his pilot, finding out from him exactly WHERE the island is. He ends up hilariously botching the mission though: when getting ready to leave Glomgold complains abotu the price of gas and that naturally causes Scrooge, just as cheap, to join in... and Glomgold to find out it’s Scrooge. The two wrestle outside the plane but before this can progress to a game of Naked Robber an airport security guy comes up and Scrooge cleverly claims that Glomgold’s plane has an infestiation, requring it to be quanrantined and allowing Scrooge to jet on.. thoguh not with an actual jet. With Glomgold seemingly dispatched, he can afford to save some money and take his time with a seaplane and I know just the man for the job.

Oh nope looks like he’s busy. So one time related rambles later we meet Keoki, their asian pilot from the tiny island of Wookawooka.. and no that’s not a real place i checked... and no Fozzy dosen’t own it his check bounced. That being said it is a very well done represntation of someone from a smaller country: he’s doing this job to try and bring money back home, but being a seaplane captain just isn’t enough and his island is dying. Scrooge naturally is about as sympathetic as you’d expect, having apparently never even heard of the idea of a bonus when Huey, Dewey or Louie suggests it.

Even less suprising is that Glomgold streaks by in his Jet:turns out Manilla was already overun with the bugs Scrooge claimed and Donald rubs it in that had Scrooge got a JET this wouldn’t of been an issue.

So Glomgold easily beats them there, and to add insult and actualy injury to a cash based one, our heroes get blasted by golden lava on the way in and crash. Should’ve gotten launchpad... got the crashing professional. Keoki is dispondent as this means his people are doomed. He also dosen’t know waht staking a claim is when Scrooge mentions it and the boys bring him up to speed with the poor guy saying he wish he could for WookaWooka. Donald also makes a valid point about how greedy and heartlress scrooge can be.. and really billiionares in general.

No no YOUR the Grouch who refuses to have one drop of emapthy. Donald’s just pissed at your general selfish and terrible behavior.

Glomgold glomgloats and has seemingly won... but naturally that rant that seemed extranious at the time about the date line comes into play: turns out the Island is on it, and since glomgold put his marker int he west, Scrooge simply puts his in the east which is a whole day before. Now GRANTED there’s nor eal legal prescendice for the intetaoinal date line itself , as noted above... but there’s enough witnesses in Scrooge’s favor that it simply does not matter anyway. Scrooge SEEMINGLY wins.

But Huey, Dewey Or Louie instead backs another claim: Keoki’s from earlier. While it was made in gest, he and the others along with Donald back it as witnsses instad. WookaWooka is saved and SCrogoe ends the story yelling at the narrator.

Final Thoughts: Don Rosa.. did not like this story, feeling it wasn’t one of his best and apologizing for it. I however.. really loved it. It’s not PERFECT: the narration feels not entirely necessary and the gag isn’t as funny as he thinks, though the payoff of scrooge saying “it’s time for this story to end” is fucking hilarous. I also feel it’s a bit too compressed: the story is only 16 pages and was only THAT long because Rosa added a few for exposition, a worthy addition. This feels like one of his 30 page adventure stories but slightly crammed into half the length. I also feel the golden island bit was BADLY underused as it’s such a cool setting but barely shows up in the story.

But despite that.. it’s still a fun story: as is standard for Rosa the art is gorgeous and the humor is great. And unlike some stories where Rosa casually ignores how terrible scrooge is, here it’s his own greed and hubris that do him in: had he actually agreed to help Keoki, the boys likey would’ve let him keep the island but his own cold refusual to be a human being does him in, just as his cheapness nearly did. Flintheart is also decent here.. not the deepest foe but frankly most classical duck antagonists really aren’t all that fleshed out, and we still get some good bits with him. The dateline bit, while telegraphing that it will be important, as I said REALLY isn’t that hard to understand. All in all while i’ll agree with Rosa this isn’t his BEST, it’s still a really damn good story and one he shoudln’t be ashamed of.

Tommorow: Green Eggs and ham is back for some train shenanigans! Kay.

Saturday: The Tom Retrospective returns for it’s last detour! Eclipsa and Moon team up to stop meteora but grapple with diffrent wants: One to save her daughter.. the other to stop waht she clearly sees as an out of control monster. The result.. will only lead to tragedy and a hell of a two parter.

If you liked this review consider joining my patreon, patroen.com/popculturebuffet. At as low as 2 bucks a month you get accesss to my patreon discord, exclusive reviews, and to pick a short when I do one of my shortstragavanzas, a marthon of theatrical shorts honoring a characters birthday. And given Donald’s is next month, now’s the time to get on board.

But if you go up to 5 you get a guaranteed review of whatever you want every month, and will get me to my next milestone, which will give everyone including yourself a monthly public darkwing duck review, reviews of the two Ducktales minis’ I haven’t covered (Time is Money and SuperDuckTales) and a reivew of the Danny Phantom film the Ultimate Enemy. So please join today and if you cannot, like this review, subscribe and give me your opinions on it bellow. Or even if you can feedback is always appricated and I will see you at the next rainbow.

#donald duck #scrooge mcduck #don rosa #ducktales #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #flintheart glomgold #gold #island #volcaones

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jinxkid · 3 years

Note

Hey, I'm OP of the pools aesthetic post. I read your tags, and I can tell a rehearsed rant when I see one. Let's hear it!

Omg okay! So! Since nuclear waste as it is currently processed (most specifically in the U.S., other countries have started working with processing methods to make nuclear waste safer to handle) is going to be dangerous for thousands of years to come, a field referred to as "nuclear semiotics" was created in order to figure out the best way to warn future humans off of the sites where this waste is buried. This wikipedia article does a pretty good job of giving a broad overview of the whole issue and proposed solutions.

A bunch of committees of physicists, engineers, anthropologists, linguists, etc. have come together to try to figure out the best way to go about solving this problem, and most of them tend to agree that a few signs with words on them is a bad plan! Assuming the signs even manage to survive through time, words will change meanings, and languages will cease to exist, but we still need these warning messages to be understood! This 2014 episode of the podcast 99% Invisible does a really good job of describing how, in regard to this issue, images too (while better than words) can also change meaning quickly. The link includes a full transcript of the episode, plus relevant images!

A slightly more up-to-date (2020) article from BBC talks about these issues, plus the 2019 results from a committee trying to solve the same problem. The article also includes a link to the full 2019 report!

(On an interesting note that basically anything you find about nuclear semiotics will mention, an early suggestion was to genetically engineer cats to change color when exposed to radiation. Ray Cats actually have a relatively large pop culture following, but I doubt they'll ever be used lol)

While no solution has been fully agreed upon, all of the panels that have been assembled agree that using language! Is a bad idea!!! Even if you translate the phrase(s) used into other modern languages!!! And yet! The Waste Isolation Pilot Plant in the U.S., who, mind you, has been the one to gather a number of the committees I've mentioned, is planning to carve the vaguely ominous but curiosity-invoking statements you used in your wonderful pool post (linked for anyone who may come across this rant and wonder what the heck I'm talking about) into granite slabs and call it a day! Granted, the messages will be in 7 different languages with space for more to be added in the future, but the point is that they took all these discussions and reports and decided to do exactly what they were told not to do!

Listen! If you're going to make a sign in a written language, at least be specific about what you're saying! If you think your phrase will still be culturally-relevant until your granite slab is updated, so will any phrases about specific danger! I don't see why they think "this place is not a place of honor" is going to do what "box full of dangerous waste that will kill you is buried here" can't!

It just rankles me that all these scientists came together to come up with plans and the U.S. government is deciding to do EXACTLY what they were told NOT to do! I know it shouldn't rankle me! I know the history of the U.S. government not listening to scientists! I'm not surprised! But. Come on! This was an easy one!

(The reason I have all of these sources in particular is because I worked on the nuclear-science-and-society podcast (shameless plug here lmao) My Nuclear Life where it was basically my job to research interesting nuclear topics and help make them accessible to the general public. If you have any interest in odd and interesting stories about nuclear science I highly recommend it!)

Anyway thanks for letting me rant about that lol it just. Continues to baffle me that these people had one (1) job and ended up choosing to go with the most vague, short-lived option possible!

#nuclear

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shipmistress9 · 3 years

Text

Sex Toy Advent Calendar: Day 5: Clearly Weird Lube

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: M

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Words: 2325

Read on AO3

Summary: Day 5 of the Sex Toy Advent Calendar. Today's gift leaves a lot to be desired. Just good that Hiccup is good at improvising.

AN: This one... I don't even know. *scratches head* They did most of it on their own?

. o O o .

With curiosity and anticipation tingling in her belly, Astrid waited for Hiccup to pull out the box of the day from their calendar. It was yet again a black box with the golden number ‘5’ printed on the side. What made this one exciting, though, was the fact that it was the biggest box they’d had so far. And even though she knew that size didn’t matter… much… she was still burning with excitement. Initially, she’d thought little of this calendar, had only seen it as an expensive joke. But after the last few days, her expectations were rather high. She only had to work a few hours in the morning today, and then they were both free to enjoy today’s gift for hours.

“Come on, Hiccup, don’t keep me in suspense here,” she demanded, bouncing impatiently. “What is it?”

“Oh, now I’m not supposed to do that?” He had a teasing glint in his eyes, and Astrid groaned.

“You know exactly what I mean! You can suspend me like that whenever you want. As long as you finally open this box and show me what's inside!”

Chuckling, he complied. “All right, all right, let’s have a look. It’s pretty heavy in comparison. I wonder… Oh.” A slight frown appeared on his forehead.

“Hiccup!”

“Yeah, I know, I know. No suspense.” He let the box’s content roll into his large hand, a plastic bottle with some clear gel inside. “It’s… it looks like… lube?”

“Lube?” Puzzled, Astrid took the bottle and inspected it. “You’re right. It’s really lube. Heh… I wouldn’t have thought lube counts as a sex toy, though. More like… essential equipment for comfortable sex?”

Thoughtfully, Hiccup nodded. “Agreed. Although, this seems to be some special lube. What does it say on the label?”

Astrid took another look at the bottle, and couldn’t hold back a snort. “Oh, yeah. Special lube, all right…” She held the bottle out for him to read the label, too. “Special fragrance, fitting for the season. Backed Apple.”

Hiccup’s nose twitched. “For real? Okay… erm. Weird! But, hey. It’s free lube. What are we going to do with it?”

Throwing him a bemused glance, Astrid opened the bottle and raised it to her nose. “Well, I can always peg you if you feel up to—Ew!” Grimacing, she held the bottle away from her. “Yeah, no, not when you smell like that though. Esh, that’s some penetrative stench.”

With a slight frown, Hiccup took the bottle and sniffed it, too, but only to grimace and firmly close the lid a moment later. “Oh, that’s horrible,” he agreed, shuddering. “Have these people ever smelled baked apples? How… how…” He looked baffled, and honestly, Astrid felt the same.

“Can lube turn bad?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Possible? That would at least be an explanation.” He placed the bottle onto a sideboard and threw it a disdainful look.

“Yeah… Disappointing, though.” Astrid’s shoulders slumped. “Not that we can’t entertain ourselves without these toys, but…”

“I know what you mean. It’s not quite the same.”

After throwing the bottle of awfully smelling lube into the waste bin, they ate breakfast. Sulking, Astrid shovelled porridge into her mouth, and the fact that it was poorly flavoured as apple and cinnamon didn’t exactly help to improve her mood. “It’s ridiculous,” she exclaimed a few minutes later. “Even this porridge is out to annoy me now.”

Cocking his head, Hiccup’s eyes brightened. ”I might have an idea.”

. o O o .

By the time Astrid had finished her work for that day, her mood had calmed down—but not yet improved. It was ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter. She and Hiccup were together for so long now, not knowing what to do with a free afternoon definitely was not a disaster. They could make a video game contest, or maybe there even was some interesting film in the cinema. Or, if it truly was the sex she’d expected, then they had enough toys and options to choose from. They could simply use their usual lube instead and see where it led them.

But that just wasn’t the same… Damn anticipation!

Sighing in annoyance at herself, she let herself into their flat—and paused right there in the doorway. That scent… was that…?

“Ah, perfect timing.” Hiccup greeted her with a warm smile and a peck to the corner of her mouth. “It should be done in a matter of minutes now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but didn’t really need an answer. The scent that wafted to her nose the moment she left the entrance room was telling enough and made her mouth water. “Did you seriously make baked apples?”

With a small smile, Hiccup shook his head. “Not quite. I was thinking about it, but since I had enough time today…” He trailed off as they entered the kitchen, just as the oven made a demanding beep.

Astrid’s eyes went wide, her lips splitting into a huge grin. “You made apple pie?”

“My Grandma’s recipe,” he confirmed. “I thought it would be a good way to make up for the disappointment this morning.”

“Mmm, perfect!” She stretched to give him a quick kiss. “And you are, too.”

The cake was indeed perfect, but Astrid had no genuine doubts about that, anyway. Hiccup’s cooking skills were amazing, and he was passionate about his baking as well; which was something Astrid happily and regularly indulged in.

After eating a couple of slices each, they were both too full to even think about eating dinner anytime soon. Or doing anything else, really.

With a satisfied groan, Astrid leaned back in her chair. “That truly was a fantastic compensation for the Baked Apple disaster this morning. Kudos to you for coming up with an equally pleasant alternative.”

Hiccup snorted. “What? Are you trying to say that my cake is just as bad as that lube? Wow… and here I thought, you’d enjoyed the cake.”

“Noooo!” She threw a small piece of leftover cake at him; barely more than a crumb, really, and it didn’t even reach him. “Muttonhead. I meant that I’m too full for sex now. And I don’t even regret it. Much.”

“So, you’re saying that my cake was as good as sex?” He took a moment to exaggeratedly think about her words, bis long finger tipping against his chin almost comically. “Okay, that’s something I can live with.”

Laughing at her dorky, wonderful boyfriend, she stood up to carry their dishes to the kitchen, stealing a kiss from him on her way.

“How about we get comfortable on the couch and watch a movie or two?” she called back to him. “I think that would be a great way to wrap this day up.”

Hiccup agreed, and they moved to settle comfortably on the couch.

“Do you want to take your prosthetic off?” Astrid asked before she sat down.

Hiccup looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be better. Could you get my crutches from the bedroom?”

She did as asked and placed the crutches in their usual spot next to the couch, within easy reach. There was no need for her to offer that she would help him, too, if he needed to get up. Hiccup knew and appreciated that, and regularly relied on her help already if his amputation site acted up on a bad day. But he preferred to be independent if possible, and Astrid respected that.

A little while later, they both sat on their couch, comfortable side by side and wrapped in a soft blanket. They'd put glasses, a bottle of water, and even a bag of chocolate-covered nuts on the low table in front of them—in case they got hungry later. But for the moment, they were both happy to just let the cake settle.

Even though the film, Pirates of the Caribbean, was one of her favourites, it didn’t take long until her full stomach made Astrid sleepy. At first, she only leaned against Hiccup's shoulder and enjoyed the cosy comfort of his arm around her shoulders. Too often, life got so hectic lately, so moments like these were precious to her. However, even sitting became too demanding after a while, and she shifted until her head rested in his lap, humming as he absentmindedly caressed her hair.

She must have fallen asleep like this. The next thing she remembered, the film had jumped to a point much later in the story, and outside, the sky had turned from dull grey to black. Groaning, she shifted into another position, intent on making herself comfortable again, when a familiar hand on her shoulder shook her awake again.

“Astrid? I’m sorry, but I need to get up.”

Accepting the inevitable, she let him move. She cracked one eye open to make sure he could reach his crutches, but then quickly drifted off again, the low noises coming from the TV lulling her in quickly. She barely noticed how Hiccup came back, only heard his quiet chuckling before he crawled onto the couch behind her.

The next time she awoke, it was to Captain Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill talking to each other. Had Hiccup put on the second movie? Had she slept through the first one entirely?

With a sleepy moan, she shifted around until she could look up at Hiccup. He lay behind her, propped up on one arm and the other loosely around her waist. He was watching her now, eyes soft with fatigue.

“Hey, there. Had a good nap?”

She nodded, humming. “Looks like I needed that.”

He accepted her words without comment. In fact, he didn’t react at all and simply watched her, his gaze so intense as if he was looking deep inside her, not just at her eyes but at her soul as well. It made her feel warm, cradled, cherished, as if there was nothing in the entire world that mattered except being here at this moment, together. She acted without thinking, turned her head and stretched a little, breached the small distance between them until their lips met.

It was a slow kiss. Just lips moving together, melting, searching. It was simple but so good, sensual and meaningful. When she reached for him to pull him closer, the stubble on his jaw were rough against her palm, making her shiver. He wa so… so real. Everything about him, his warmth seeping into her body, his hand on her waist drawing her toward him, his breath ghosting across her skin, it was so intense. Irresistible. She wanted for this moment to never end, to keep kissing Hiccup and feeling him so close for the rest of eternity.

And for a while, her wish was granted. Time lost all meaning as they kissed, their bodies moving as one. Shifting, turning, grinding; even sleepy as they were, they always knew what the other wanted and followed their motions. Hiccup's fingers combed through her long golden tresses, his fingernails dragging across her scalp and making her tremble. Her own hands wandered over his back beneath his shirt, exploring his shoulders, the scars from his accident, and every single ridge of his spine down to his rear.

She loved how he ground against her, the motions so strong and natural and reaching so deep despite the clothes that still separated them. It was wonderful, knowing bodies nearly working on their own to bring each other to completion.

Her orgasm was building slowly, and when she came, it surprised even herself. Her muscles seizing deep inside her belly made her spasm beneath him. She mewled, and her fingers dug deep into his flesh as her grip on his backside grew firmer, holding him close. Her still sleepy mind went blissfully empty as pleasure surged through her in one powerful wave, and she barely registered how Hiccup’s arms shook at her side or how he muffled his groan against her neck.

When he rolled off her to lie next to her again, Astrid shifted too until she faced him. “Mmm, I liked that,” she murmured, then chuckled. “But so much for a day without sex.”

Hiccup snorted. He sounded as tired as she felt, his eyes closed and a lazy smile on his face. “Is that a complaint I’m hearing there? About too much sex? From you?”

Now, she laughed for real, low but true. “No, definitely no complaints here.” She burrowed against his chest and deeply inhaled his scent, leather, fire, and sandalwood. Home.

“Aye. I didn’t think so.”

His arms closed around her, holding her, and they both basked in this moment of sleepy closeness, vulnerable but safe. Astrid was close to drifting off into sleep again when Hiccup stirred once more.

“Mh? What’s up, babe?” she asked sleepily.

“I need the bathroom.”

“Again?” She lifted her head, again reflexively looking for his walking aids.

He chuckled. “Yeah, well… I made a bit of a mess of my boxers, and I need to clean that up before I fall asleep.”

Astrid blinked, then giggled. “Ah, right.” She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. “Do you need my help?”

He paused, considering her offer, but then shook his head. “No, I’m good. But we should move over to the bed, it’s more comfortable than spending the entire night here on the couch.”

Grudgingly, she had to admit that Hiccup was right. She waited until she heard him leave the bathroom, then went there herself to use the loo and brush her teeth. After retrieving Hiccup’s prosthetic from the living room for the next morning, she happily crawled into bed next to him. And as she was about to fall asleep for real, she thought that maybe today’s gift from their advent calendar hadn’t been that much of a failure after all. If nothing else, it at least had served as a reminder that they didn’t need extravagant toys or accessories to be happy.

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

#Hiccstrid #fanfiction #httyd #Modern AU #Sex Toy Advent Calendar #not for children #nsft #romance #fluff

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thecreelhouse · 4 years

Text

sweet spot \\ part 1

Paring: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character (Lex)

Word count: 4,803

Summary: modern AU where Robin tells Steve about cam girls, and he falls hard for a stranger on the internet. Modern romance! This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve written yet, sorry, not sorry. Smut, obviously. But it’s cute, too. Part one of two!

Warnings: language, webcamming, smut, low-key daddy kink, that’s it basically

A/N: got this ridiculous idea last week while listening to doja cat’s cyber sex, and here we are? I haven’t written any sort of smut~~~ in like.... 8 years. Sorry if it’s obvious how rusty I am lmfao. Aged the characters up just a tad, too, but it is talked about like all the events of ST happened, just in present times lol. Separated into 2 parts bc it’s so lengthy. Hope y’all enjoy it at least lol. If not, just uhhh... ignore this. Title is from “sweet spot” by Kim Petras!! btw, for real, shoutout to all sex workers, y’all hustle harder than anyone.

Friday nights are usually meant for going out, partying, the usual reckless shit that most mid-twenty year olds get into. Another Friday night had rolled around, though, and it was another one that Steve was spending home alone.

It’s not that he didn’t have any friends- he ended up moving out of Hawkins with his best friend, Robin, and they’ve been roommates for several years now in the city. After high school, and wandering college and career options- all failed attempts- he decided it was just best to enjoy life in the moment, stop worrying so damn much about what his parents wanted for him, and move out. It could’ve been better, but he struggled with the majority of his generation, without the work they wanted, with or without a degree.

So, he’s made the best of what he could since. And even years later, he’s not too sure how to spend his downtime now that it’s not filled up with chasing after unhinged teens who have taken it upon themselves far too many times to become monster hunters. How do you go from protecting a bunch of kids (protecting- more like, taking sucker punches for everyone, literally), to having too much free time for yourself. Is that even possible?

Steve was flopped on the couch in his and Robin’s apartment, mindlessly scrolling through movie options on whatever streaming service had the best choices these days. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere, as nothing seemed like a good enough distraction.

It’s not even that he minded being such a homebody these days; it saved money, and it was an easy going life compared to the bizarre events he stumbled through in Hawkins years ago. It was peaceful, quiet. Sometimes, a little too quiet, though.

Steve never liked to admit it, but he was lonely these days. Robin saw right through him, though, and would manage to drag him out to the bar some nights, trying to be the best wing-woman she could be, but no one ever caught his interest anymore. Everyone was too similar to other girls he’s dated before, or didn’t want anything serious at all, or found him to be too clingy- the list could go on, really. He tried to ignore it altogether, as it just made him feel worse.

It was easier to spend time alone when you couldn’t break your own heart.

Sure, sometimes, the occasional one night stands weren’t the worst if Steve was in the mood, but that was even hard to be excited for these days. He was tired of how empty it felt, and longed for that intimacy with someone he was really, truly connected with. Not just for looks and small talk.

And, alright, fine, sure, he didn’t need a relationship and sex and all that in between, nobody necessarily needs it, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want more with someone genuine. Someone he could care about. Someone he could love.

Breaking his familiar cycle of lonely thoughts, Robin slammed the door open, laughing to herself and stumbling through the doorway.

“Well, at least one of us had a good Friday night,” Steve thought to himself, shaking his head at his best friend.

“Steeeeeeve,” Robin slurred, skipping over after she kicked her shoes across the apartment.

“Robin.” Steve deadpanned, and Robin’s cheery, drunk smile flipped into a frown. She dropped to the other side of the couch, studying his face, wondering what had him upset tonight.

“You shoulda’ gone out, it was lotsa’ fuuuuun!” She giggled, curling under a throw blanket. “Lotsa’ pretty girls. You missed out.”

Steve hummed to himself, rolling his eyes at Robin. “Did I? Not like you came home with anyone.”

Robin lightly smacked his arm, “Hey! Dingus. Maybe I didn’t want to bring anyone home. Kinda depressing when you’re here moping around all alone and shit.”

“Gee, thanks, Rob.”

“I just think you should get out more! You’re not gonna meet the love of your life wasting away on this couch.” She grumbled, arms crossing. “You don’t have to keep binge watching these shows alone, you know. Bet there’s some cute girl out there that looooooves being a homebody just as much as you do.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. Some people like going out, some people don’t. It is what it is.” He countered, and she scoffed back.

“Say that as much as you want, but it’s not gonna get you laid-“ Robin’s smartass comment was cut short by Steve throwing a pillow at her head. “- god, you’re so moody lately too. You definitely need to get laid.”

“Shut up, dingus.” He said, going back to scrolling through the tv choices again. Robin stole the remote back from him, though.

“That’s my line!” She snapped, laughing. Steve cracked a smile before diving headfirst into another pillow, wanting this conversation to end. “Jesus, would you at least leave this couch today? Go read a book, knit a hat, watch some porn-“

“Robin!” Now he really wished this conversation would end.

“Well I’m not the one who’s got all this,” Robin threw her arms wildly over her head as she continued, “pent up frustration, or energy, or whatever!”

Steve sighed before mumbling, still face first in the pillow, “I hate even talking about this,” his head finally turned a little, only so he didn’t suffocate, “but not even that is exciting for me anymore.”

Robin rolled her eyes, at his dramatics. “Steve, as your best friend, your wing-woman, and roommate, please, go fucking hook up with someone already. Your stress is stressing me out! I mean, for fucks sake, go watch a cam girl or something if you don’t like going out anymore.”

Steve’s head turned more, finally sitting back up with brows furrowed in confusion. “A what?”

Robin mirrored his expression, “Dude, it’s 2020. How do you not know what a cam girl is?”

Steve sat, clueless, eyes darting away, then back at Robin, “No?”

Rolling her eyes, she got up, still wrapped in the blanket like a burrito, and headed to the kitchen area. Steve wasn’t sure if he should follow or not, until she began to yell out an explanation, while rummaging around the fridge.

“It’s like, the new wave of sex workers, independent from the shittier side of the porn industry, cute as hell,” she rambled on, pulling multiple things from the fridge, before opening them all on the counter. Steve eventually made his way over, noticing among her large mess- half full carton of orange juice (he’d definitely have to get a new one that she didn’t directly drink out of), a tub of ice cream, and grape tomatoes. He was forever puzzled by Robin’s drunk snack choices.

“So, people watch these girls, and then they tip them, and that’s how they make bank. It’s admirable as hell, they’ve got guts and more money than I’d ever see at once in my life. Sex work is real work, man.” Robin continued, hiccuping a bit.

“Tip them for what?”

“To play bingo with the viewers- no, you fuckin dingus- what do you think?” Her sarcasm had an extra edge when she was drunk, but it was still funny to Steve. “I mean, sure, sometimes they just hang out. Do whatever. But usually, obviously-“

“Okay, okay, yep, I got the point. Geez, Robin, sorry not all of us have this knowledge on hand.” Steve quipped back. Robin got up, wrapping the blanket closer, leaving her mess on the counter.

“Here-“ she pulled her phone out, searched with sleepy eyes, and then sent a link to his phone, “- have a fuckin’ blast. You’re welcome. I’m going to sleep.”

And with that, Robin padded down the hall to her room, leaving Steve completely baffled by this unheard world of cam girls, and of course, leaving her kitchen mess for him to deal with, as well.

Unable to reach sleep some time later, Steve tossed and turned in his bed. Frustrated, he pulled his phone off the nightstand, and opened the text from Robin with the link she sent earlier. Hesitantly, his thumb hovered above the screen, wondering if this was something he even wanted to see.

“Guess it can’t hurt to look if I can’t sleep.” He thought, and opened the link. It loaded to a site that was a platform for those who wanted to cam model, and those who wanted to watch. So many links, categories, and thumbnails of really, really pretty girls. They didn’t look like the ones in those cringeworthy adult films, plastic and unrealistic- which, was fine if someone wanted to look that way, it just wasn’t really what he found attractive.

These girls were all in different poses, some wearing outfits that complimented their body shape, some wearing nothing at all. Steve sucked in a breath before locking his phone and throwing it down next to him on the bed.

“This is ridiculous. What the fuck am I doing?”

A few more minutes passed, and sleep still was nowhere to be found, so he reluctantly picked his phone up again, and started scrolling once more. A part of him felt wrong for this, it felt a little too realistic, like these were all just your average “girls next door” and he was looking where he shouldn’t. But another part of him wanted to see more, and let curiosity pull him in further.

Steve’s eyes fell on a thumbnail of a girl that stood out among the rest to him. Hesitantly, he clicked the link, and it opened to a live video of a young woman, he assumed around his age. She was stunning, to say the least, with long, silver and lavender hair, but maybe that was a wig... ? He couldn’t tell for sure, but regardless, she looked like a faerie or some cute shit like that. The girl wore a lacy, babydoll cut dress, thigh highs, and her skin shimmered among the lighting in the room around her. Her surroundings reflected how cute she was, as she was laid across a pink couch, lollipop in hand, like she was casually hanging out with friends. Pop music played softly in the background as she lip synced along.

It took a few minutes for Steve to figure out how the chat worked, and that it was easier to take everything in on a full screen rather than his phone, and opened up the chat room that belonged to the girl- her username was just as cutesy, PeachyKitten- on his laptop from there.

“I see some of you still lurking about, don’t be shy! We’re just hangin’ out tonight.” The girl said while twirling the lollipop through her fingers. Her voice sounded heavenly to Steve. His eyes fixated on her glossy, plush lips as she spoke, and wondered how it felt to kiss someone like her, how it felt to have lips like hers around his-

“Oh, thank you!” The girl replied to one of the viewers tipping her, just because. Her sweet voice shook Steve from the path his thoughts began to go down, feeling embarrassed for himself.

“I wasn’t really planning on playing tonight, but I did get new toys, so...” she left the camera frame for a moment, rustling in the background before coming back in view, with several vibrantly colored toys piled in her arms.

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he watched her flaunt and flash different toys used for who knows what, senses overwhelmed as his mind raced while he also tried to listen to her talk on.

“I have an idea- let’s play a fun game. Q&A? You guys ask me stuff while I play, and we’ll see how well I can focus and how long I can last, yeah?” The girl’s innocent features twisted just a bit into a devilish smirk. “Each tip you guys make sends the vibrator’s power up juuuust a little higher.”

Steve felt how hard he was already against his sweatpants, and wondered just how long he had been hard for already. This random girl from the internet was about to be the death of him, and she hadn’t even actually done anything sexual yet.

Exhaling deeply, he threw a hand through his hair, wondering just what the hell he got himself into here, before biting the bullet and finally entering info to sign up for an account. He joined into the chat just in time for the girl to start her Q&A game.

“Let’s lay down some rules, okay? Nothing personal and obviously invasive- like where I live or some shit, creeps.” She giggled. “Otherwise... all questions, sexual or not, are free game. Ask away, and I’ll answer as best as I can! You guys control the power of the vibrator with the tips, got it? By the way, I see some new cuties joined in, so hi there! My name’s Lex, let’s get to know each other.”

Lex winked into the camera, turning up the charm she held. Steve’s eyes fell away from her for a second as he saw the chat box speed up with activity, people already spamming with their questions, others just saying nice things about Lex. A few vulgar, disgusting comments floated through every now and then, but they were quickly blocked by Lex, without letting her positive mood falter on camera.

Repositioning herself, Lex moved onto her knees while on the couch, lifting her dress just a bit, revealing nothing underneath. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat as he held back a moan from involuntary slipping out. He noticed how curvy and a little squishier her body was, not like the models most guys his age drooled over. Lex showed off the bottom half of her body confidently, even with her stretch marks and imperfections in full view. All Steve could think about was how good it would feel if her thighs were wrapped around his he-

“Alrighty, first question-“ Lex started, pulling Steve from his thoughts turning dirty again. Flipping the vibrator onto the lowest setting, she gently ran it along the folds of her center, teasingly. “- Oh! I like this one- ‘what’s my favorite thing to pass time with’-“

Before she could answer, a moan slipped past her soft lips, and a chime echoed through the speakers of Steve’s laptop. Someone had tipped Lex, and sure enough, the vibrator automatically kicked up a notch, causing the pause in her voice.

Lex bit her lip, a bit dazed, trying to regain focus on answering the viewer’s question. “I love staying in, honestly. Like, I enjoy adventures, too, but there’s not much more I love than staying home in comfy cozy PJs, watching movies! Or reading. Sometimes, painting, too.”

Lex managed to finish her answer before a soft groan escaped her throat. She leaned back against the couch, legs up, showing full view of how wet she was, and it wasn’t until then that Steve wondered when the hell he started palming himself this hard, and for how long.

Another chime rang through, and the speed of the vibrator went up again, causing Lex’s head to fall back onto the couch as she moaned. A small ‘fuck’ made its way through the speakers, and Steve was sure he could have came right then and there.

“You guys are making this challenging from the start, huh?” She said, voice breathy and face flushed red. With one hand holding the vibrator on her clit, her free hand traveled up her body, playing softly with her breasts, trying to read another question. “What’s my favorite animal? Probably bunnies! They’re so adorable!”

Steve was floored with how Lex could multitask. Robin wasn’t kidding when she said sex work was real work.

Feeling a little more at ease as time passed, Steve typed in a question, remembering something she mentioned earlier: “what do u like to paint?”

Instantly he began second guessing himself, wondering if that was a boring question at a time like this. But only a second passed before Lex read his question out loud, answering with: “all kinds of stuff! I’m not very good at it, but I’m learning you don’t have to be good at something-“

Another chime, another tip, another notch up on the vibrator. Lex moaned out, louder this time, echoing in the room she was in. Without thinking, Steve’s hand reached down under his waistband, desperate for some sort of touch, even if it was his own. Slowly, he began stroking his length, letting his own moans tumble out of his mouth.

“- if- if you want to enjoy it!” Lex managed to finish, shaky, but still managed to get the sentence out. Steve felt overwhelmed; excited, because Lex answered his question, and excited, watching her struggle to get the answers out against her whines and moans.

Barely missing the sound of the chime over his own heavy breathing, Steve just caught it in time, watching Lex’s body begin to shake, a string of whimpers following.

“I- god- that feels so fucking good.” Lex moaned out, tugging at her nipples through the fabric of her dress. Steve watched her through hooded eyes, wiggling out of his sweatpants for a better grip on his member.

“I’m so close, so so close-“ Another whine escaped Lex, and Steve could feel himself getting closer to the edge in time with her. With his free, shaky, hand, he tipped her quickly, not paying much attention to the numbers he entered; he just wanted to push her to the edge, too.

The chime followed quickly after, and before Lex could even thank him, she began to ride out her high on camera, whimpers and moans traveling through the speaker to Steve, who was also riding out his orgasm at the same time. His eyes almost fell closed, but he couldn’t look away from how gorgeous Lex looked as her climax took over her body, making the end of his high that much sweeter.

“Holy shit,” Lex breathed out, sprawled out on her couch. “You guys are too good to me.”

As Steve came back down, he instantly felt a strange sort of shame he had never felt after anything sexual. Present time coming back into focus, he slammed his laptop shut, not watching Lex say goodnight.

Shame fell heavy on his mind, feeling dirty, but he was way too exhausted to think about it tonight, and let sleep overcome him quickly.

———

Sunlight poured into Steve’s room, and he immediately buried himself deeper in the covers, not ready to wake up yet. His body felt exhausted, still, and it didn’t take long for him to remember why.

The shame he felt the night before flooded back, and he was lost as to why he even felt it. It felt like an invasion of privacy, watching Lex’s show, but it wasn’t necessarily wrong. It was her job, after all, and he did tip like you should, so what was the problem?

“Shit. How much did I even send her?”

Steve pulled his laptop back open, refreshing the window, and seeing in his payments he sent-

“I’m a fucking dingus.” He groaned out loud to himself. There, in plain, bold text, was the number $100- definitely not $10 like he had thought he typed in. He guessed it was only fair, since $10 wasn’t a whole lot in the long run. He wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette was for cam girls, and wasn’t sure if there was any at all.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he noticed the message box on his account had a notification. Confused, he clicked it-

PeachyKitten: hi cutie! Thank you so much for the generous tip last night! Most newcomers don’t do that, so I really appreciate it! Let’s chat and play soon- one on one, okay?

-lex <3

Steve felt his regret fade away reading the message, but only for a moment. “She has to be nice- this is how she makes a living. I can’t get caught up thinking I’m special, or some shit.”

Still, he didn’t feel as bad as he originally did, and it wasn’t like he was spending that money on going out or anything...

Stretching, he noticed how hard he was again, and sighed, annoyed at himself. This stranger on the internet had him swooning already. He just wanted to learn more about her, and it didn’t hurt that she made him weak in the knees just with that smile.

Steve replied back quickly, trying to play it cool, and hoped time would pass fast until they got to chat again.

———

Palms clammy with sweat, Steve waited for Lex to reply back, giving the okay to start video chatting. She said she needed a minute, and that minute felt like an eternity. It had been all day, and he was grateful he had off this weekend to laze around and wait for a dreamy, internet stranger. He felt like a fool, but he couldn’t control himself. He was hooked.

A gentle chime rang out, and the call screen came up on Steve’s laptop. Hesitating before answering, he gave it a moment, trying not to seem desperate, and finally picked up. His screen loaded, showing himself in the smaller corner, buried in a cozy hoodie and sweats. Lex’s screen loaded after, and she wore a loose tank top, large cardigan, and pajama shorts, like she was enjoying a cozy day at home, the way she said she liked.

“Hi, cutie!” She beamed, giving her well known innocent smile. Steve felt his stomach do flips, not sure what to say or do, completely speechless as his jaw dropped open, and no sound fell out.

Lex giggled at his stunned silence. “You okay over there, Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat, growing red in the face, forgetting for a second his name is on his profile and wondered how the hell she knew it at first. “Y-yeah, sorry, I just- I don’t- I’ve never done this before- any of this-“

“Don’t be nervous! We’re just hanging out, right?” Lex took over so casually and comfortably, like she wasn’t chatting with one of her customers. “How are you?”

“I- I’m good, y-yourself?”

“I’m alright, still in a good mood from last night.” Lex smirked, looking off, before looking back into the camera. “I just wanted to personally thank you, you didn’t have to tip so much. I usually don’t ask for personal calls first, I let boys earn ‘em. But you had me wondering.”

Steve felt his face grow even deeper in the shade of red from earlier, “Wondering what?”

“Just who you are. What you’re about. You learned about me last night, I was wondering what there is to learn about you.” Lex replied, twirling the ends of her hair- and sure enough, it was still the silver and lavender mix.

“Well, uh...” Steve paused, not sure how to answer that. “I’m not- I don’t want anything from you- if that’s how this all came across. I’m not expecting anything. You- you’re just really cute and uh- god I’m so bad at this-”

“You’re fine, it’s okay! I’m sorry if I made you nervous, putting you on the spot like this. If anything, I just wanted to say thank you.” Lex said, smiling genuinely. Even if it was a mistake, Steve didn’t regret how much he tipped her now. If anything, it made her happy.

“If anything, I should be thanking you, I didn’t know what I was getting into... but I liked it.”

“Oh? Well I’m glad you did.” Lex said, blushing a bit.

“I’ve been in a weird funk lately and- Jesus Christ, why am I telling you this- sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad I could take your mind off of things for a little while, at least.” Lex smiled, “I can do it again, if you want. Here, download this.”

A link popped up in the message box; it opened a download for an app to wirelessly control a vibrator. Steve’s breath stopped short, eyes now fixed on Lex’s lips as she bit the bottom one, and his eyes grew dark, thoughts headed elsewhere.

One thing led to another, and clothes were lost- Steve’s mind went haywire over how beautiful Lex was- while the once awkward air was now filled with gasps and moans, and although Lex was so much more experienced than he was, his confidence didn’t falter back. Slowly, he grew more comfortable in this bizarre situation, where he was in control of the toy she used on herself, from who knows how fucking far away.

Lex gasped sharply as Steve turned the power up higher, causing her to reach the edge. “I’m c-close, daddy.” She managed to stutter out, and that sent Steve even closer to his edge, moaning out. Lex didn’t seem to be phased by the name slipping out, engulfed in her own pleasure. With a free hand, he switched the vibrator up even higher, sending Lex above and beyond her limits.

Steve followed close behind her, groaning out a “good girl” towards Lex, and that surprised himself. He watched as she rode out her high, naturally glowing as she let herself go, and he could have sworn he saw her lips twist up at the sound of the nickname. It was all more than enough to send Steve through his own climax, and hard.

Skin tinted shades of pink and red, Lex fell back against her couch, just like the night before, trying to catch her breath, a sweet smile appearing across her face. Something about how she presented herself as someone real, not bouncing back up right away like a machine, not shutting off her emotions- because Lex was a real, living, breathing person- got to Steve. Not acting, not faking it. As if they weren’t held apart by this technology barrier. It was a whole new world for Steve, and he just wanted more.

“Gimme a second.” Lex croaked out with a raspy, tired voice. Softly laughing, she was still lying back on her couch, exhausted. “I didn’t think you’d crank it that high up.”

Steve, also trying to catch his breath, laughed, feeling his face heat up. “Sorry, I didn’t think a lot of things were going to happen that did, so...”

A beat passed before Lex sat up, face still flushed as she gazed into the camera, then eyes flickering to Steve onscreen. “Like what?”

“‘Daddy’, huh?” He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath. Lex bit her lip, looking away.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who called me a good girl, so, I don’t wanna hear it.” She countered back, causing heat to rise to Steve’s face again.

Still feeling somewhat confident and brave enough, he let his softer side show through to Lex, “I- is it- okay if I say I wish I was there right now?”

“For what, cutie?” Lex asked back, voice still sweet as pie.

“Sorry- I’m just a real sap I guess-“

“Don’t apologize.” Lex interjected before taking a breath. “I wish you were here too, I could definitely use some cuddling right now.”

“I just- I wasn’t sure if that was, like, overstepping boundaries, I guess.”

“Usually, I don’t hang out after a session like this... but, you’re cute. Really cute, Steve. Do you mind hanging out a little longer? Unless you’ve got somewhere to be or-“

“No! I mean, no, I don’t have anywhere to be right now.” He corrected quickly before continuing. “I’m kind of a homebody these days.”

Like they didn’t just fuck over the webcam, the conversation began to naturally shift, as if they were just in the same room with one another. Lex’s face lit up a bit, “See, I knew there’s stuff about you that I wanted to discover! What’s your favorite movie lately? Wait- hold that thought, I wanna clean up first, and then you better have an answer when I’m back!”

After they both were cleaned up and in new, comfy clothes- Lex’s hair seemed to magically change from the silvery mix to, long, bouncy brunette curls (Steve realized he was right, it was a wig, probably to conceal her real identity just a little online)- they both began to just talk, get to know each other, like they didn’t get to know each other through a webcam site. Steve felt the nervousness continue to fall away as he and Lex carried on conversation, watching her facial expressions change as she talked so animatedly, so bubbly, excited over the simple things in her life. She listened intently whenever Steve talked about his likes and dislikes, bonding over how similar they were in so many interests.

Steve made a mental note to thank Robin later for pushing him to try this whole webcam thing out.

#i’ll post part two later!! maybe tonight?? idk if anyone’s gonna even care for this LOL #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x ofc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #modern!au #webcam!au #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x oc #stranger things x you #sweet spot #my fics

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warsofasoiaf · 4 years

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Sure, the internal politics was a bit flat, but I thought you punched it up enough to make it work. But realistically, Collins would be much more politically powerful after repelling two invasions? The Protestant Ulsterites are given fair consideration. Just seems like the game mechanics got in the way, but you wove it into the story well. Also, Rose of Sharon Cassidy reminder!

Rose of Sharon Cassidy is a great companion. At first glance, she’s a callback to one of the more popular Fallout companions, John Cassidy. Both have big hearts (neither can be recruited if the player has low Karma) and a heart condition. Both are small business owners. Both have a knack for shotguns (Cass gets the Shotgun Surgeon perk and I usually end up giving her Dinner Bell) and acquit themselves well in firefights. Both are experienced. Both can have quite colorful and inventive pieces of profanity. However, Rose of Sharon Cassidy is a great character in her own right, she is not merely another character’s shadow.

Cassidy is one of two Western-themed companion characters in the game, the other being Raul. While the second act of Fallout: New Vegas is about Vegas and the power struggle within it, the first act of the game borrows a lot of Western themes and motifs, from the little town shootout ala Rio Bravo to finding a sheriff for Primm to the man rising from certain death to pursue their killer like a non-supernatural High Plains Drifter. Cassidy is a caravanner and muleskinner (or brahminskinner because it’s Fallout), a classic Western archetype, and she fits the description: rugged, colorful, and individualistic. She’s tough and violent to contend with a tough, violent Wasteland, with a love of whiskey to match any Clint Eastwood character.

Speaking of Clint Eastwood, Rose of Sharon Cassidy is firmly in the revisionist Western camp of Western characters. Classic Westerns often didn’t have many roles for women outside of love interests to damsel, doting wives, or wicked saloon girls, which in the era of the Hays Code was a codeword for prostitute, but in the 1960′s roles began to expand for women in Westerns as the Western genre itself began to revise itself. Revisionist Westerns, for those not in the know, often took the classic Western genre to task, the depth and scope of which would be too lengthy an aside for this essay. Suffice it to say, when Cassidy joins up, she makes it plain that she isn’t looking to be just a tag-along, she’s being joined because of her skills. Cass is not a worthless hanger-on, a character devoid of depth to simply enrich the Courier’s tale. She’s a Revisionist Western character, and she has her own story.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy is a moral person even though she has Neutral Karma herself. She does not like a Courier that commits hostile acts and will call the Courier out if their Karma begins to drop. You get two strikes with Cass, and dropping to Evil Karma means you’re out, she will up and leave. If you do not start something, she will head back West, giving up on a future for herself in the Mojave. Or contrarily, if the Courier is a shitbox as well as evil, she’ll shoot. There are things that she won’t tolerate and it’s based on Karma, not faction reputation like the other companion characters. Again, Cass has her own story, she will not content herself being a tag-along. This isn’t perfect, of course, open-world games being what they are, you can take your time accomplishing her quest, but mechanics and story are always, in some ways, at odds. A pressing deadline means lost content, which can be perfectly fine for some games, but other times, not so much.

Cassidy, however, is at her lowest point when she meets the Courier, drinking away the days at the Mojave Outpost bar after her caravan company had been roasted to ashes in an apparent raider attack. Unable to leave due to Ranger Jackson forbidding caravan travel due to giant ant attacks, Cassidy is content to spin her wheels and drown her sorrows, and will not move for any reason, not even the most silver-tongued Courier. Instead, she recommends you to one of her competitors, Alice McLafferty of the Crimson Caravan, the largest caravan company in New California, and an ironic recommendation given what will come later in Cass’s own quest.

Continuing with McLafferty’s quest line, however, gives you Cass’s companion quest Heartache By the Number, which is also a song on the New Vegas soundtrack - a mournful Guy Mitchell country song about a man who constantly has his heart broken by a lover who leaves him, comes back, leaves him again, and says that they’re coming back but never do. The song’s protagonist, despite the pain, cannot bear to end it and leave, because even though it hurts, the day he stops counting his heartaches is the day the world ends. Despite the pain, the singer can’t give his lover up, and we see that Cass, despite her caravan having been lost, can’t bear to give it up and sell it to Alice. Anyone who has ever owned a business can tell you, there’s a piece of themselves in their work, and it can be hard to give it up even if the offer is tempting (this isn’t universal sentiment, of course, plenty of business owners do wish to sell at a good price). Cassidy Caravans isn’t just a caravan company, it’s a piece of Cass. She even asks flat-out “if someone asked to give you 1,000 caps for your name, would you?” Even if all she had was nothing, nothing was still worth something because it was still hers.

The quest to buy the caravan is one of the little things in the game that truly show Obsidian’s love for the craft and their use of dialogue for fun. You can pay extra out of your own pockets to recruit Cass, standard fare for an RPG because you don’t want to miss out on content just because you don’t have the right skill and money is usually an acceptable fix in gaming, but the other options are excellent. The two speech checks, the first to point out that she doesn’t want to be trapped here forever, and the second that points out that if she was responsible for Cassidy Caravans, the destruction of it is on her too. Both get you the same results, but require different speech levels in order to get out. Neither one provides any mechanical difference to Cass, but the accusatory stance naturally would engender hostility, and so it should be a harder speech check. The game uses the mechanics to reinforce the action in a way that the game’s limitation on programming cannot easily match. This isn’t as elegant, perhaps, as the speech check with Ulysses at the end of Lonesome Road litters the conversation tree with false answers that will catch someone who wasn’t paying attention and just clicking through the tree, but it gets the point across with much less conversational depth (and accordingly, less programming and voice acting work). The best option, however, is the drinking contest, where you pay 12 bottles of whiskey to attempt to drink Cass under the table. The actual choices all end in the same successful quest resolutions, but the paths that they take vary considerably and hilariously, from Cass smoking you and you falling off your stool (in dialogue options only, the engine wouldn’t render that), you becoming equally drunk and saying stupid drunk things like “I love you and your little hat,” to you simply obliterating Cass with your gigantic 10 Endurance, asking if you felt *what* exactly as you polish off six bottles of whiskey like they were water. There’s absolutely no point in creating that many dialogue choices other than the pure love of doing it, of putting it in there, of enjoying the craft of the RPG. It’s these little things that make me love Obsidian as a developer, and it’s something more game developers should do, to place more love into their programming and presentation.

After joining up with you, Cass still isn’t ready to simply forget her caravan, and asks if you can stop by site where it was hit. She wonders whether there’s any indication of what hit her caravan, but even if you’ve been there and seen the devastation, she asks to go anyway, to pay her respects if nothing else. Part of this is simple signposting, you need to get to the caravan so you can hit the next checkpoint of the quest to continue, but it still speaks to Cass’s character that she says that she wants to go there and does not simply take the Courier’s word and be done with it. The scene is every bit as bad as she thought, her caravan was hit by someone carrying energy weapons and looking not to rob the caravan but to destroy it completely and utterly, which is baffling. Hitting a caravan is typically supposed to be about stealing the goods and getting rich, not simply bloodsport. It’s confusing, but it’s also Fiend territory, who use energy weapons. A Fiend warband, whacked out of their brains with Psycho might look to satisfy their bloodlust, or Jet might make them so twitchy that they keep shooting until everything is ash. The hit is too professional though, Brotherhood of Steel-level military tactics, which wouldn’t match up with tweaking Fiends, but the Brotherhood doesn’t attack caravans without high-level technology.

Since there are too many inconsistencies, Cass wants to see what happened to Griffin Wares, another caravan company. The wreckage is the same, disintegrated caravan and cargo both, which means it cannot simply be a one-off, at least by video game logic anyway. Conservation of detail means that two times is enough to be strange, and three times is a confirmed pattern via the Rule of Three. Now suspicious instead of curious, Cass and the Courier investigate Durable Dunn’s Caravan. Living up to their name, however, this time there’s evidence that this was not the result of random juiced-up Fiends but a concerted assassination and murder by the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff crime family, looking to murder their way to maximum profits by eliminating the competition and establishing a monopoly. We have the reveal and now we reach another classic hallmark of the Western genre, what is the hero supposed to choose? Kill them both in revenge for their crimes, or trust in the NCR’s justice system and bring evidence to Ranger Jackson to indict both of them. We also get a good view of a classic Western conflict, the big monied interests versus the little guy. These happened plenty of times in the west, such as in the Johnson County War where the homesteaders fought the wealthy Wyoming cattlemen’s association.

Cassidy, hot-headed, is looking for a good brawl, and you can have two big fights at the Crimson Caravan HQ and the Silver Rush, the latter of which being a big energy weapon fight where, if successful, you can walk away with enough microfusion cells that you might qualify as a ghoul. That’s the classic Western anti-hero move, where the justice system is a tool of the powerful and both the crime syndicate and the corporation are the powerful. This form of justice is sorted on the frontier, beyond where the corrupt courts can reach. It’s immensely satisfying to Cass, and when she gives into her wrath her character receives a permanent upgrade of 15% gun damage. Combined with her Shotgun Surgeon perk, which ignores DT, Cass can become quite lethal with a 12-gauge. Yet the damage is not limited just to the Van Graff’s and the Crimson Caravan. The NCR is proven to be unable to protect caravans leading out to the Mojave on the Long 15 and so supply shipments drop off, and NCR settlements suffer. The Divide was already destroyed by the Courier before the game even started (and the Long 15 might be nuked depending on your choices in Lonesome Road) so that really stings.

The alternative though, is putting your fate in the hands of the corrupt NCR, ruled by its brahmin barons and other monied interests. Cass trusts Jackson with the evidence, but it would take a long time to prosecute the two conspirators. It means delaying the visceral satisfaction of revenge and the power that such an act can entail, and risking the chance that it fails. But if you show faith in the NCR, then that faith is rewarded. NCR uses the conspiracy to shape up their trade laws, and the Crimson Caravan and Van Graffs hurt in their bottom line. For her own part, Cass calms herself and becomes much tougher as a result, gaining max HP. Of course, this is clumsy though, since the Gun Runners can end up vaporizing both of them with no push back and your get the best of both worlds (and previously, a bug allowed you to peacefully complete the quest then go kill them and get both perks). It’s a bit clumsy perhaps, but life isn’t fair. Personally, I would have designed the quest so you had to collect a certain amount of evidence, not enough and the Van Graffs and Alice McLafferty get off scot-free. Whether that would be in the quest or just an ending slide, I could go either way, but I think that would have been a better way to build that kind of quest.

Of course, you could do nothing with Cass. You can bring her to Jean-Baptiste Cutting and have him gun her down to complete Birds of a Feather, coldly escorting Cass to her own slaughter. Of course, this is an evil act and it makes perfect sense for Cass, the one who would be disgusted by an evil Courier, to be the one eliminated in an Evil Karma path. That’s a credit to Obsidian, few developers are brave enough these days to create mutually exclusive content because of the cost of production, or mutually exclusive content being binary beads on a string where you have to choose between a saving a bus full of nuns or devouring a live kitten with minor callbacks and a morality meter to note your choice. But that’s a function of the increased cost of production these days, gone are the days when a level could be produced with a couple of writers, artists, and scripters (such as it was in Fallout 2).

You knew it was coming. If this surprised you, you have only yourself to blame.

Cass is a supporter of the NCR, and it’s here that she shines, perhaps even unintentionally, as a revisionist Western character. She likes her country, but she’s aware of its flaws. The NCR lacks direction and cohesion, their compass is “always spinning, all the time.” The NCR is family, and you love family, but you can help but hurt as well that your family is constantly screwing up. The constant need to spread, to acquire more land and resources. It’s great press for the top, like Kimball who can give his pretty speeches at the Hoover Dam, but the common NCR grunt has to fight hostile gangs and wildlife without an established support structure to back them up. And Cass sees that if the NCR wins, it won’t change because it won’t learn. She wants the NCR to fix itself and is completely at a loss for how to do it. She far prefers NCR over the other factions, but she isn’t blind to its flaws. Like Raul she understands why some would join the Legion (provided they weren’t women, of course), because the security of their supply lines means that the threat of random violence is reduced, and that’s important in a post-apocalypse. Why pay these crushing NCR taxes if they won’t protect you? Why is NCR expanding to Hoover Dam when it can’t even stop cazadors from nesting near the power lines? They’re too thinly spread, and they won’t consolidate and reform because that doesn’t win you elections.

The same is true of the Western genre in the revisionist Westerns. They state that the frontier was a black-and-white affair, where good guys wore the white Stetson and the desperados wore the black one. Cass’s feelings on the NCR are similar to what plenty of Western writers thought about Westerns, and what citizens of their own countries think about the nations they live in. The words that Cass speaks about the NCR could be said by any member of any nation, loving their country but wanting to fix the flaws.

This isn’t to say that New Vegas is completely morally grey. There’s some clear moral lines that can be drawn, Caesar’s Legion is clearly an evil and cruel nation despite Caesar’s claims of Hegelian dialectical inevitability. But what about the NCR? Do its intentions for good or ill doom it or save it? Do you continue to support that family member that constantly screws up or do you stop giving them the rope to hang themselves. The answers to that question aren’t easy, but the faction system working toward the goal of what the Mojave is one of the biggest draws of the game, and so it’s clearly showing that these are types of questions worth discovering an answer to, whether it’s in the real world or the fantasy world.

Cass, as a character, gets you to start thinking about the flaws of these factions, because the grand climax of Hoover Dam has you picking which factions you want, whether one of the large ones with their own visions, or the ala carte options of the Yes Man playthrough where you pick which ones to embrace or reject. So Cass, in a nutshell, is that way a distillation of the grand Fallout: New Vegas experience; something you’d never expect from a whiskey-soaked nobody drowning her sorrows in a dingy bar in the corner of the map.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#fallout: new vegas #character analysis #fallout

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phantoms-lair · 5 years

Text

Mirror’s Gaze part 17

Didn’t think this would happen? Honestly me neither. But I wanted to get it done for the 50th Anniversary of Scooby Doo tonight, so victory!

Previously on Mirror’s Gaze

They met again in the diner and Arthur wondered if there was an end to Shaggy’s appetite. He wished, perhaps selfishly, that he had Lewis’s cooking to fill the bottomless pit. No, definitely selfish, since Lewis already had to cook for Vivi when he couldn’t even eat himself. As it was, the accumulated food costs had been adding up to a horrifying number. He tried to keep it to a minimum to keep costs down, but it seemed like he’d never be full again. Still it was getting harder not to not to start crying when he saw the total rising.

He had tried to get away with just a glass of water, by Velma had shot him Vivi’s ‘you’re not taking care of yourself’ look (And why did anyone but Vivi even have that?) so he’d ordered a large plate of fries. Maybe he should start looking for all you can eat buffets. Normally they were more expensive, but it might currently be the more cost-effective option.

The afternoon had been productive at least. The list of ex-Fezness employees had been huge, but the number of employees who could both build an animatronic robot and program in behavior was much smaller. In fact only five names came up. Louise Clayton, Marcella Garrett, Bertrum Reynolds, Frank Lambert, and Matthew Luna.

Velma was devouring the hidden file, apparently craving the knowledge it contained like this body craved food (once she was sure Arthur was actually eating). “This is fascinating. I can’t believe Professor Mansfield, his assistant, and student created this.”

“That’s not the only thing, look at this.” Fred pointed out one of the names on Arthur and Velma’s list, then at the front of the file.

“Jeepers, do you think there’s a connection?” Daphne asked.

“Very likely.”

Arthur craned his neck to look at the front of the document. Ah. “So time to call the police?” It was far from open and shut, but it was a reasonable connection.

Fred and Daphne looked at him oddly, though Velma was still engrossed with the document. “We haven’t caught the culprit yet,” Fred pointed out. “But don’t worry, I’ve got the first workings of a plan.”

“Why would we catch the culprit?” Arthur asked, confused. “I mean, yeah, citizen arrests are a thing, but this is literally what the police are for. We’ve found the clues, put them together in a reasonable fashion, now we turn over the evidence to the authorities who can legally make the arrest and build a case so they can be prosecuted.”

Why were they looking at him like he’d grown an extra head?

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” Velma hadn’t looked up from the document. “It’s not like it’s a real evil AI. There’s a human controlling it.”

“Of course there’s a human controlling it.” Arthur was baffled. “And do you know what humans can have? Guns. Especially humans with a lack of respect for law and order. Not to mention none of what we found is admissible in court since it was obtained without a warrant.” He gestured to the document. “Or through illegal breaking and entering.”

Fred frowned. “It wasn’t like we were trying to rob the place, Arthur. We were looking for clues.”

“Which to do legally you need either permission or be a member of law enforcement with a judge-issued warrant. Evidence obtained otherwise is non-admissible and can compromise the integrity of a case, sometimes even causing it to be thrown out.” This was his job, at least one of them.

“Arthur may have a point,” Velma conceded. “Most of the clues we find wouldn’t fly in a trial. However, it’s almost moot in a case where the culprit is caught red handed and confesses, so as long as we catch him, it’ll work out.”

That seemed overly optimistic “Okay, but can we get back to my other concern. Mainly, what if he has a gun?!”

“You worry too much,” Daphne patted his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

Arthur groaned, resting his head on the table. Even Vivi at her most enthusiastic didn’t completely discount risk. Misjudged, maybe, but never discount. His first impulse was to bow out now. Go to the police on his own, present his case, and hope they followed up. The problem was, he couldn’t rule out the kids doing something foolish in the meantime. He sighed. The best thing he could do to keep them safe was to stay and hope to mitigate. “Okay, what do you have so far? We can build on that.”

“Sure,” Fred felt a bit thrown off his game. Usually he just made the plan and everyone else went along with it. “We need to lure the robot out again. We can assure the creator wants this.” He tapped the file in Velma’s hands. “We just need someone else to announce they have a copy, maybe that it’s being patented in memory of Dr. Mansfield. The robot should come for that.”

“While basic behaviors could be programmed in, being able to react quickly enough to capture a person would require real time input from someone who was watching what was happening. So the culprit would have to be on site.” Velma deduced.

“Still might not be easily noticeable, if the commands are being given via a smart phone it’ll blend in with everyone trying to record it.” Arthur pointed out. “We could probably make a signal blocker without too much difficulty, especially if we can assume it uses similar systems to Fezness. But that won’t catch our culprit red-handed,”

“A blind?” Daphne suggested. “The robot is going to cause a lot of chaos, but judging by it’s fingers I bet it would have some trouble picking the actual folder up without losing pages.”

“And we catch our culprit when he goes for the file.” Fred grinned. Sure, it didn’t involved building a trap, but he had to admit coming up with the plan together was fun. “He won’t come close if there’s a lot of people there, so we have one person hiding in the podium ready to catch him the the act while everyone is distracted.”

Which would be the most dangerous location, being alone with the criminal while he was at his most desperate. “And who would the one in that position?” Honestly, he was expecting it to be Fred. He was the leader, after all. If it was their team, he knew Vivi would have insisted she be the one of the front line, at least before Lewis became a ghost and thus immune to conventional weapons. (She’d still try, but it would be possible to talk her out of it.)

So it was to Arthur’s surprise that everyone turned to look at him. And it was too automatic to be because he was older and more experienced. They expected Shaggy to be the one to get close.

“And why exactly do you think me, the one least wanting to do this, should be in the most dangerous position?” Of course, he was planning to anyway to keep the kids safe, but wanted to hear what they said.

“Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?” The question was automatic, Fred asked it without really thinking.

The fork fell from Arthur’s hand and clanged loudly against the plate holding his mostly eaten eggs. “Excuse me, I must have misheard. Did you just try to get me to do something dangerous by bribing me with dog treats?” His voice seemed to freeze the air around him. They’d never heard this scathing tone from Arthur and certainly never from Shaggy.

Fred, Daphne, and Velma froze, trying to switch tracks to the suddenly hostility radiating from Arthur.

“Raggy roves rhem!” Scooby barked back. “Re’d reat rhem rogether rall rhe rime. Ri...ri riss Raggy.” The great dane broke down into quiet sobs.

The cold fury seemed to wash away from Arthur, leaving an awkward atmosphere.

“We’re getting him back, Scooby.” Daphne promised. “It’s not going to be too long now.”

Scooby let out a low whine and rested his head on the table. He’d never been away from Shaggy for so long in his life. And phone calls were better than nothing, but nowhere near the same.

Arthur tentatively patted Scooby on the head, as if afraid him being a facsimile of his friend would just make it worse. “Just another couple of days. No more stops, okay.”

“Rop ror rood?” Scooby asked, a small smile showing he was joking.

“Yeah, don’t think either of us would do well if we didn’t stop for food.” Arthur agreed. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down the rest of the way. “Look, I’m going to check on the Fezness patents so we can build our signal jammer better. Let me know if anything comes up.” Arthur headed to the counter to pay his bill and then left.

The Gang watched him go, still in mild surprise. Velma took over petting Scooby.

“Well yeah, it sounds bad if you put it that way,” Fred said uncomfortably.

“True, but how else could you put it? We have been bribing Shaggy with dog treats.” Velma pointed out, subdued.

“Because he likes them. But right now that’s not making me feel better.” Daphne sighed.

Arthur had hoped leaving would help him cool his head. Instead it was the opposite, as his mind replayed the conversation he’d just had, he felt himself get more and more worked up. As the patent information blurred together, Arthur realized he’d never be able to focus like this. He pulled Shaggy’s phone and dialed his own number.

It rang a few times before he heard his own voice answer. “Like, Shaggy here. What’s up Arthur?”

Arthur took a deep breath. He hadn’t exactly thought this through. “Um, so, the thing with the Scooby Snacks?” “Besides that they’re delicious?” Shaggy chuckled.

“Seriously?” Well, at least that confirmed what Scooby had said about Shaggy liking them.

“Yeah, like, you should try them.” Shaggy suggested.

Technically he currently had Shaggy’s taste buds, so if Shaggy liked them, right now he should too. But the thought of eating dog biscuits turned his stomach. “I’ll pass. This was more about them being used as a bribe to get you to do dangerous things.”

To Arthur’s surprise, Shaggy laughed. “That part of the mystery already?”

“That part...how often does this happen?” Arthur asked, shocked.

“It’s cool man. Like, I’d really rather we didn’t run into mysteries. But to tell the truth, this part; I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it. Between track and gymnastics I’m the fastest and the best at escaping. Me and Scoob are the most likely to get out okay. The snacks are just, well, free snacks.”

Arthur felt most of the tension leave him. “You don’t feel you're being taken for granted here?”

He could almost see Shaggy shrug. “Like, probably a bit. But then again, I probably take them for granted a bit too. Part of being human, man.”

“Shaggy, are you ready? We need to get back on the road!” Arthur heard Vivi’s voice calling out.

“Be right there!” Shaggy called back. “Sorry, got to go.”

“Vivi stops for no man,” Arthur agreed. “Scooby misses you.”

“I miss him too. Like don’t get me wrong, Mystery’s groovy but no one can replace Scoob.” There was such a profound sadness in his voice.

“Soon,” Arthur promised. “We’ll get you two back together soon.”

The call ended and Arthur admitted he did feel better about things.This was just part of a group dynamic he hadn’t expected. He turned his attention back to the signal jammer and almost didn’t notice when Fred entered the computer lab.

“I talked to Dr. Gardner. She agreed to help with our plan.” Fred said quietly. “And...I’ll hide under the podium.”

“Fred, my problem was never being the one under the podium. It was the knee-jerk reaction of going straight for a bribe when it looked like I was refusing.” And the dog treat thing, though that was apparently a non-issue. “No is a complete sentence.”

Fred looked like he’d been caught kicking a puppy. Arthur sighed. “I don’t like it, but I did talk to Shaggy and he’s okay with it, which is the important thing. Just respect it if he doesn’t want to do something, okay?”

“Okay. And that goes for you too. You and Velma can focus on the robot while I catch our culprit.”

“It’s fine. I can do this. This is the most dangerous part and Shaggy would never forgive me if you got hurt.”

“And what if you got hurt?” Fred countered.

“I think Shaggy would rather lose his original body than his friend.” Arthur could have kicked himself the moment the words left his mouth. Hurt didn’t mean death.

“No one’s going to die,” Fred said, as if he could make it so through sheer stubbornness. “I don’t know why you think this is so dangerous. We’ve done this a hundred times before. But if it makes you feel better, what about this—"

Arthur smiled as he heard Fred’s newest addendum to the plan. This he liked a lot better.

~ “Thanks for coming everyone.” Dr. Gardner stood alone on the podium in the middle of the outdoor stage. “Professor Mansfield planned to unveil this today as the capstone of the Robotics Festival. Since he can’t be here, I’ll be unveiling it in his stead. This was a joint project between Floyd and myself, along with one of our most promising students, Tabitha Reynolds. May I present -”

F̥̰͎͊͊͛ͩ̎̌̚o͖̬̱͔̯ǒ̙̮͈͕̹̰̙̆ͫͤ͛l̰̰̠̭͎̔ͩ̚iș̩̹ͥ̐̐h̘͕̖̜̑ͥ̋ͪ̐̀ ̣̠̯̮̂ͅH̥̼̳͍̥͇̹͐̽̂u̾m̟ͥ̿ͨ͛ȃ̹̝̥͗ͫ͂n̙̯͙ͮ̈͂͋ Yͯ̐͑̅ͥo̤͈͔͍͖̹u̹̪̗̣͇̺̬̎ͬ͒ͥ̓̓̚ ͒̓̄d̤ͫ̎̌̐̚o̲͔̻̭̜͍̺ͮ̎͐ ͇̤̩͊ͯͪ͐̓̊̇n̍ͤo͈͕̻̞͂̎̇͐ͫͮ̚t̉̃ͦ ̳̣̰̜͐̉̇ͯc͎̽͐͗ͨͤͮͣo̙n͚͇̗ṭ͖͇͓̻͇̼̅r̖̦̝̖͔̹͛͑̍͌ͧ͆o̞̱͛̈̎͑͋l̹̝̰̠̝̥ͩ ͓̟̖̤̤̣̈́ͬͣ̏̇̈́t͇̖̻̰̙̳̲͌͊h͑͛ͬͣ̄e̜̩̰̱̜ͩ̅ͬ̑͗̚ ̼͎̻̊͌̇͗mͪ̓̋ã̮̳̫̖̲͌c͎̻̞͖͉ͨ̆̈̉̃h̰̝̜̫͖̒̓ͨi͖͓̻͗̎n͒e̯̲̙͉̓̎̅͒͐ͩs̥̰͕̿̑ͯ͗͐̚ͅͅ,͔̰̒̍ͥ̌̑͐ͭ ͍w̞̦͇̥͚̲̋̂͑̇̍͋ͩe̟̼̙͆͑̅̓ͮ ͍̞̺̝̘͉̑͊ͅc̟̟̮̬̰̥̉ͬ̈́ͮó̱͇nͩ́̈͒̊̂t̤͕̭̟̯ͥͤ̃̈́̔ͩ͋ȑ̤͍̟̲̖̾̊ǒ͔͙͇͓̳̺l̺̖͎̣̎̈̆ͯ̍̉͐ ͚̝̮͖y̅̐ͪ̐ŏ̰̦̭͔̿̇̓̈͌͗uͧ̔

The robot who’d taken Professor. Mansfield appeared again, floating in the air. It swooped down on stage, causing Dr. Gardner to dive to the side to avoid it.

“Anything?” Velma asked over her phone. “Not yet.” Daphne was watching the stage through a pair of binoculars. “No one’s heading for the file. They’re all running away from the robot.”

“Roger.” They wanted the culprit to feel safe enough to get the file in the first place, so wouldn't be using the signal jammer until he’d made his move. Daphne was the look out, keeping a close eye on the file from a distance. Velma was ready with the signal jammer she and Arthur had put together, waiting for the signal from Daphne. Fred was also waiting for said signal to spring his trap. Arthur had been in the front of the crowd and was now by Dr. Gardner’s side, ready to help her escape. Scooby was likewise guarding Tabitha.

Somewhat thankfully, the robot was ignoring the student for now and focusing all its attention on the doctor. Shaggy had been right, though. His body was built for speed and it was easy to keep up with Dr. Gardner and help pull her away. If he'd had a better idea of how strong he was, he would have just picked her up and bolted. As it were, there was plenty of destruction happening from stampeding crowds when the robot swooped down to try and grab Dr. Gardner. One near miss resulted in Arthur pulling her out of the way just in time, causing the robot to barrel into a scale model of Stranshaw.

“Someone’s going for the file!” Daphne reported. “He’s close. Closer….closer....He shoved it under his jacket and he’s in position, NOW.”

Fred hit a switch, causing the door on the bottom of the podium to burst open as the net launcher fired out, trapping the man where he stood. At the same time, Velma hit her switch. The robot, without any new input, crashed into the ground and stopped working.

“We did it!” Velma cheered as Arthur helped steady Dr. Gardner.

“Let me go!” the man on the stage snarled.

Tabitha gasped. “Uncle Bert?”

“Sorry Tabitha, but your Uncle was behind the Rampaging robot and the kidnapping of Professor Mansfield.” Velma explained.

“But why? You knew what this school and project meant to me!” Tabitha asked, distraught.

“It’s because of the project,” Velma explained. “Because your Uncle is working on his own version of the same thing. Sub-Atmosphereal Three-Dimensional Locomotion via Podiatric-based Apparatuses, or in other words, jet boots. The apparent propulsion system on the back of the robot was just for show. What really made it fly was his prototype jet boots. But they’re not ready. My guess would be the power supply is too bulky to be practical. Then he found out Professor Mansfield was working on the same thing, and was just about ready to publish and patent. He needed to keep Mansfield out of the way until his were done. That said, we knew he’d jump at the chance to see Mansfield’s notes, that how we knew he’d come for the file if he knew where it was.”

“But where is Professor Mansfield?” Dr. Gardner asked.

A stubborn expression set Bertrum’s jaw, but Arthur just grinned. “No worries. He’s going to tell us. Enlightened self-interest if nothing else.” Their culprit cocked an eyebrow. “Please enlighten me on how giving up my trump card is in my interest.”

“Because you’re not motivated by spite.” Arthur said easily. “If you were, the robot would have been given a test run against the executives at Fezness that cost you your old job. But you’re not out for revenge, just profit. And the fact that you’d backstab your own niece means you wouldn’t trust anyone else. So Mansfield is kept in a secret location where you’re taking care of him, since you don’t really want him harmed, just out of the way till your own patent goes through. Right now you could be charged with kidnapping, corporate espionage, and reckless endangerment. You’d go to jail, probably medium to low security, and while admittedly getting a job after you get out will be hard, it’s not impossible. Telling us upfront shows you never intended Mansfield harm and may get you a lesser sentence.”

Then Arthur’s eyes hardened. “Now if you were to turn this into a hostage situation, that would all change. Mansfield is restrained somewhere without access to food or water. That can easily turn lethal, especially since he’s not a young man. You’ve put him in a situation where he could die if your demands are not met. Now the main charge is attempted murder. There’ll be no lesser sentence for cooperation. You’ll be in a higher security prison with more violent tending inmates. And you can kiss any prospects when you get out goodbye.”

“And if Mansfield actually dies? Premeditated murder. You’ll never see the outside of a cell again. I’m not too familiar with the laws of this state, so I don’t know if it’s to the end of your natural life, or if the state shortens it for you. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. At the end of the day, you’ll do what’s in your own best interest. And right now, that’s telling us where Mansfield is.”

Bertrum held Arthur’s cool gaze for a second. “He’s in a storage shed on the outskirts of town. Unit 24.”

“Good work,” Arthur almost jumped. He hadn’t noticed the police getting there.

“Of course, Betrum Reynolds wasn’t the only one engaging in some Corporate Espionage.” Fred declared. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Jorkin?"

“What are you talking about?” The gruff man folding his arms and tried to look intimidating.

“He’s talking about you being a spy for Crawford Loan Agency, and their sister company CLA Limited.” Velma grinned. “When Professor Mansfield was starting out he needed money for his work, money he got from the Crawford Loan Agency. In order to pay them back, he gave them a percentage on his patents. The problem was he’d gotten to a point where he didn’t need the loans anymore, he’d had enough money to fund a college. Jorkin was placed here to look for an opportunity to get him back under their thumb. Initially it was a planned meeting to attempt to get him to take out another loan. After he was kidnapped, though, Jorkin helped the agent from CLA break into Mansfield's office to steal his research. Needless to say, I don’t think the college will be keeping you. And considering the fact that your misogynistic views cost CLA an in with Dr. Gardner, I don’t know how interested they’d be in keeping you either.”

“You worthless bitch.” Jorkin’s meaty palm went straight for Velma’s throat. It never got there though, as Daphne grabbed said arm and Judo-tossed him onto the podium, smashing it under him.

“Don’t you dare touch my friends!” Daphne snarled. Scooby growled menacingly and he, Fred and Arthur closed ranks around Velma.

“Attempted Aggravated Assault on a Minor!” Arthur called out to the police, who were already in the process of cuffing Jorkin as Reynolds was being escorted to a squad car.

“We’re aware of the laws, son.” said the cop cuffing Jorkin. “Incidentally, using Mansfield location as a bargaining chip would have been False Imprisonment, not attempted murder.”

“Oh I know,” Arthur said easily. “But I was banking on the fact that Reynold’s didn’t.”

Velma snorted and soon the whole gang was laughing. It was the kind of laughter that was a release of nerves, but laughter nonetheless. Though Arthur was a bit confused when Jorkin grumbled about meddling kids and everyone else just laughed harder.

“I can’t thank you enough. If you’re ever looking for a higher education, Strenshaw Technical Institute would be happy to have you.” Professor Mansfield was having a recommended stay in the hospital to make sure he was alright, so Dr. Gardner was seeing them off.

“We’ll keep it in mind.” Fred shook Dr. Gardner’s hand.

“Hey Mister, Hey Mister!” The young boy they’d seen the day they arrived, Tommy, ran up to them. “It works great!”

He held up his dog, Saddie, for them to see. Only instead of a missing hind leg she now had a mechanical one made of plastic. Very familiar pieces of plastic.

“That’s what you’ve been working on all this time?” Velma asked.

“Well, yeah.” Arthur shrugged. “I could help, why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s not a bad design at all.” Dr Gardner said, examining it. “Who knows, you may be the next Arthur Kingsmen.”

Arthur’s eyes widened as the Gang turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Kingsmen currently has the patent for the most advanced prosthetic arm around, as well as a few animal prosthetics. There’s a few more elitist members of the engineering and robotics community who aren’t very happy at being outdone by a car mechanic, but talent is talent.”

“The arm isn’t perfect, though. There’s still the nervous feedback issue, not to mention waterproofing.” Arthur looked a little sheepish.

“You’re familiar with it?” Dr. Gardner looked surprised.

“Yeah, I know the guy, just didn’t know he was famous.” Arthur admitted. He hadn’t known anyone outside Tempo knew about his arm.

“Well next time you see him, let him know Professor Mansfield would welcome him at SIT too.”

“See, he’s perfect,” Daphne whispered to Velma.

Velma sighed. “It’s not happening, Daph.”

“Sure it can, you just need to think positively. We have at least another week to-”

“Daph, it’s not going to work because he’s not a pedophile.”

Velma’s response caused Daphne to stop short. “What?”

“Arthur’s 26, remember? Much too old to even be thinking about dating someone our age.” Velma said sadly.

Daphne looked like she’d bitten a lemon. “I completely forgot. And here I was just making things worse by getting your hopes up. I am so sorry Velma.”

Velma just shook her head. “Don’t be, I always knew this was going to happen.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “You knew?”

“Well, not the body switching, obviously. But I always figured my first crush would be an older guy. A teacher or professor or something.” She’d always pictured a good looking posh man, maybe in tweed. Arthur was exactly nothing like her imagined first crush. He was down to earth and smart without any academic airs. And yet somehow he was so much better than anything she’d imagined.

“That’s just how is goes, though. Mind you, if you and your crush getting together wouldn’t be a felony, maybe it’s worth actually asking him?” Velma nudged Daphne in the ribs gently.

Daphne turned beet red as Fred called out to them, “Coming girls? We need to check out so we can get back to the road.” They probably could have stayed and finished up the last day of the festival, but after seeing how lost Scooby looked without Shaggy, none of them had wanted to waste any more time.

Thankfully they were all mostly packed and most of it was transferring the luggage to the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne had gone to settle the bill while Arthur and Scooby went to get some snacks for the road. Velma did the last sweep of their shared rooms, making sure nothing was left behind.

Satisfied there was nothing left but her laptop, she flipped it open to wait for the others to get back. She had been looking up the Mystery Skulls themselves and seeing what kind of cases they had solved. There were several kidnappings and returning stolen items. She scrolled through them until one headline caught her eye. She had to read it a few times just to make sure she’d read it correctly

‘Lewis Pepper, Local Private Investigator, Dead After Accident During Cave Investigation’

She read the article and cross referenced it with an obituary from The Tempo Times. It seemed legit.

“But if Lewis Pepper is dead, who have we been talking to on the phone?” She narrowed her eyes. “Arthur, what are you and your friends hiding?”

~~~~

Zalgo text: Foolish Human You do not control the machines we control you

This case probably could have been done better, but at this point I’m just glad to be done with it.

Notes: Signal jammers are normally illegal, they slid by on this because it wasn’t effecting normal service, just the particular signal affecting the robot

#Scooby Doo #MSA #Mirror's Gaze #Ghost Writing #It's back!#Fred Jones #Daphne Blake #Velma Dinkley #Scooby #Arthur Kingsmen #arthur as shaggy #Lets try for a quicker update next time

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varshaapurya · 3 years

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Goa Trip at the Expenses of Your Month’s Grocery

Tired of surfing numerous websites to get the best deals? Worried about your budget during lockdown? Worried about hygiene at the accommodations during covid-19 pandemic? If these are the questions that are daunting you from planning your next trip, then you are at the right place to get relieved from all those troublesome questions. Like any other avid traveller I too was bored of being at home and away from pleasures of journey. But what couldn’t let me travel were the same baffling questions about hygiene, budget and availability of the accommodations here in Goa. I was as confused as the scientists who are working on to understand the genetic module of Corona. But as soon as Google fetched me here at ‘Hostels in Goa’ I was left with no option but to gear up for my next trip to this beautiful state leaving all my hesitations at my home town. Initially I was as skeptical as any new comer is while boarding Mumbai’s locals train during rush hours. Nevertheless the hesitation couldn’t dominate my passion for travelling and I thought of giving a chance to ‘Hostels in Goa’ to get the things done. I was anticipating very high charges of hostel bookings, as these days almost every service provider has been charging a little extra in the wake of corona. But to my surprise I was proven wrong, the prizes that were offered were not at all expensive and for sure every budget backpacker or amateur traveller would find them inexpensive. The things went smoothly right from selecting perfect hostel to plan my itinerary, which included water games and my visits to other scenic places. It may sound exaggeration but things really went smoothly and I just relaxed in the beauty of this exquisite state. The experience I had during my stay in Goa was something that I felt I must share it with the vast community of travellers and wanderlust who are perhaps thinking the way I was. I was literally awestruck when I came to know that I could book hostel anywhere in Goa through ‘Hostels in Goa’ platform and that too at the price of a pizza. Another interesting fact that I noticed after having discussions with some other travellers who accompanied me in the hostel was that, number of hostels are not listed on some other booking sites but you will find them on this platform. Moreover these hostels are budget friendly, hygienic, and safe. Another feather it has in its cap is phenomenal experience that one gets being in the company of co-travellers who enrich our life with remarkable memories. I really appreciate the efforts with which the co-partners of this platform (Hostels in Goa) have planned my itinerary making sure that I leave no stone unturned. I must sincerely thank the team of ‘Hostels in Goa’ for the unmatched experiences that are so overwhelming. I really feel relaxed having visited Goa without taking any heavy toll on my savings. The total cost of this excursion was as little as grocery expenses of any middle sized family. So do not withdraw your plans and if Goa is in your bucket list then stop not and get ready for your next sojourn.

#hostels in goa

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raendown · 4 years

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Pairing: None Word count: 4419 Chapter: 2/4 Rated: T+ Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don’t get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama’s obsession with watching him?

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Chapter 2

“But why do I need to be in charge of it?” In spite of the usual efforts to sound more mature than his actual age, at the moment Hikaku treads dangerously close to a childish whine. Izuna is far from impressed.

“We need someone there to make sure people actually stay on task,” he says. “And we all know there’s no one better at killing a buzz than you. It’s a work site, people are gonna get rowdy, idiots are gonna want to show off. You’re basically acting as supervisor to make sure that no one gets out of hand or uses any chakra outside of strict working necessity.”

Scratching at the back of his head, Hikaku steps aside to let a man pass between them and then falls in to step beside Izuna again. His face takes on a dour expression for several minutes as they walk. By the time he orders his thoughts for whatever he wants to say they’ve already passed by several shops and turned down another street.

“I’m not exactly…the strongest guy around,” he says at last. The words sound as though they pain him to admit. Pride is a terrible affliction to them all.

“That’s fine. No one’s asking you to actually fight people. If they step out of line you tell them where to shove it. And if they try to start something you don’t think you can win then dodge like hell and report them. You know I’m always willing to crack a head for you if you need it.” Izuna grins as he claps his cousin on the back, shamelessly enjoying the bleak grimace he gets in return.

When the other falls in to a sulk Izuna lets him, too cheerful to be put off his own good mood. Plans to build the wall are progressing a lot faster than anyone expected after the council of elders had somehow all managed to agree on a single proposal in the first meeting. As a celebration of the workers going out to survey the initial measurements Izuna had invited Madara out for lunch. Unfortunately his brother is an absolute stick in the mud and had opted to stay home with some paperwork he apparently needed to get done so when Izuna passed Hikaku on his way in to the shopping district he cheerfully invited his cousin instead.

And even more cheerfully dropped the news that he is nominating Hikaku as one of the foremen for this upcoming worksite. Their lunch out has been a petty man’s delight as he enjoyed both the food and the look of exhausted irritation staring back at him.

“Come on, if we cut through here I think it leads out near the tailor’s and I need to put in an order for a new cloak.” With how the streets twist here and there Izuna is actually fairly proud of himself for remembering that. He pulls at his cousin’s shoulder until Hikaku follows along behind him with a tortured sigh.

“I thought we were going home now?”

“Oh stop whining or I’ll sit on you until you admit that you’re secretly an old man in an adolescent body.”

Even without looking he can practically hear the other pouting. “I’m nineteen!”

Izuna intends to shoot back with some quip about making his point for him. He’s interrupted before he can by the sudden appearance of two stocky figures in front of them, blocking the path in an unmistakably deliberate manner. One arm swings out instinctively to stop Hikaku and encourage the younger man behind him. His cousin might not be exactly weak but he is also enough of a level-headed realistic to step behind the stronger fighter without complaint.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Izuna asks in a calm voice.

“Already done enough, haven’t you?” one of the men drawls. His accent is distinctly northern where the villages have all intermarried enough that none of the people living there can be said to carry even as few as three bloodlines.

“If I’ve already helped then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind stepping aside for us to pass.” Humor is, perhaps, not the best way to respond in this situation but unfortunately his mouth always works a little faster than his brain. Sometimes the words just sort of fall out of their own.

“Think you’re funny?”

Clearly these strangers do not appreciate his humor.

“Yeah I sort of think I am.” Izuna grins even as he curses himself for a trouble-seeking fool.

“Right.” One of the men turns his head to spit before cracking his knuckles. “I’ve been waiting years to get you alone. Then some people came ‘round our little hamlet talking about peace and a village where we can all be happy and sunshine together and I thought to myself ‘well now, isn’t that just an opportunity?’ And here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“My sister never took another step after you left her for dead. Now she spends every day with this look on her face like she wishes you would have just finished the job.”

A wash of sad understanding turns over in Izuna’s belly. Not guilt because he’s sure he had a reason for whatever he did, he’s never been the type for unnecessary slaughter, but the aftermath of their duties as shinobi is never pleasant to think about. One of the first lessons he’d ever been taught was how to put it all out of his mind lest it drive him to madness thinking about the things he’s done. It doesn’t take a genius to understand the sort of revenge this man is after; obviously he’s never been able to put what happened to his sister out of mind.

For perhaps a sliver of an instant Izuna considers trying to talk his way out of this but even as the idea enters his mind he cast it aside. The anger staring back at him is not the sort of anger that can be talked aside. Unfortunate, that. There goes his good mood.

“Hikaku,” he murmurs quietly, “I want you to stay out of this.”

“But-!”

“Just watch the street and make sure no one else gets involved, alright?” Keeping both eyes on the man already reaching for a poorly sharpened kunai, he waits until his cousin assents with a low grunt. Then he nods and put his trust in the other to keep out of the way.

Eyes narrowed, body language more aggressive by the moment, the stranger doing all the talking gives a harsh snort. “You must be proud of the pain you’ve caused. I’ve always enjoyed taking the pride out of men who don’t deserve it. Hurting you the way you hurt her is going to be fun, I’ll make sure to mark this day on my calendar and celebrate it every damn year.”

Izuna is already imagining the lecture Madara will give him later on setting an example for others, how they are supposed to be the pinnacles of peaceful behavior towards their new allies. He spares a moment to scowl mentally for the one who has seen most of his violence over the years. What use is having a stalker if Tobirama mysteriously disappears the only time it might be useful to have him around?

Of course, the moment he finishes that thought the two men move towards him and then every body present freezes as another appears between them. Exasperation and relief flood Izuna’s veins in equal measures. Tobirama says nothing in either greeting or explanation, merely stands like a statue with his back to the one he’s spent most of his life trying to kill. Leaning to the side puts Izuna at just the right angle to see his rival’s face and wonders at the look of sheer ice in those deep red eyes, narrowed in to a cold glare that would have frozen the blood of bigger men than the ones he has turned it on now. Nice as it is of him to give these idiots pause in whatever stupidity they had been about to commit it’s still baffling for Izuna to find himself standing behind a wall of pale flesh like some damsel that needs rescuing.

And all in utter silence.

Now faced with twice the skill as they had been a moment before, the would-be attackers seem to rethink their options, eyes darting between Tobirama’s immovable stance and Izuna’s raised eyebrows. The one who has so far done all the talking keeps his eyes forward when he cranes his neck to whisper behind himself. Wariness has already filled the second man, frustration clear on his face even as he shakes his head with obvious regret.

“Let us have five minutes with him,” the first one says finally, attempting to bargain with Tobirama. “Rumor says you follow him around like a shadow; obviously you don’t trust him. You wouldn’t shed any tears if something happened, yeah? No one has to know you were even here.”

They wait but Tobirama makes no move to reply, only continues staring the pair of them down. It’s difficult to decide whether his ability to remain so completely still is more impressive or eerie but Izuna supposes it doesn’t matter much when it is clearly serving its purpose. All confidence drains away to leave both of the strange men looking increasingly nervous as the minutes ticked by. Eventually the one in front grunts and scuffs one foot against the dusty ground.

“Whatever. Pair of goody-two-shoes softies now that you’ve got a pretty little treaty to hide behind and all. Just you wait, Uchiha. There won’t always be a Senju bodyguard around to protect you.” With a sharp gesture he motions for his companion to follow and backs away slowly until he can lose himself in the crowds just beyond the alley.

“Hn, won’t I?” Izuna murmurs unhappily under his breath.

Although he’s sure the words do not carry across the space between them, Tobirama turns and meets his eyes with the anger in his face draining away to leave him blank once more. For some reason the sight of him is unutterably irritating.

“Thanks oh so much for the help but you know I could have taken those two with both eyes closed, right? I don’t you to rescue me.” Snorting quietly as he hears his cousin splutter behind him, Izuna shakes his head. “Seriously, is this what you were following me around for? I don’t know if you were hoping for a life debt or something but no way am I declaring some bullshit like that when I could have taken care of this on my own.”

“Izuna!” Hikaku whines and pulls at his sleeve but he shakes the man off without looking.

“Go on then. Was that what you wanted? For the love of chakra just say something!”

Tobirama tilts his head slowly to one side. “Your brother was looking for you,” is all he says, leaving them to wonder if he intends that as a convenient excuse for his presence or this is a paltry attempt at moving the focus away from himself. It’s a lie either way. His brother knows exactly where he is.

With no further words Tobirama turns and walks away in a plain declaration that he considers this nonexistent conversation over. Not even when Izuna hollers after him loud enough to attract attention from both ends of the alley does he look back, leaping up on to the rooftops where, even more annoyingly, his chakra doesn’t go farther than a couple of roads away. Considering how close he tends to stay lately it’s sort of a miracle he goes even that far.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I murdered him in his sleep?” Izuna grumbles.

“Yes,” Hikaku answers in a flat voice. “Many people. Not the least of whom would be his own sibling.”

“Just a little bit?”

“No.”

It proves difficult but he manages to resist the urge to cross his arms. “Ugh, fine. Come on. I can stop by the tailor’s another day, let’s just head back home. Madara’s gonna love this.”

One glance is all it takes to see that Hikaku understands his sarcasm. At least the familiarity of rolling eyes lifts his spirits a bit. He is still frowning as they turn for home, however, working though everything that’s just happened in the span of about five minutes. For all that he hadn’t believed in peace himself for many years, apparently he’s allowed himself to grow complacent in just a few short months of it. Getting jumped is surprising enough already considering how few people would dare to challenge his reputation but having someone go to all the trouble of joining their settlement just to challenge him specifically is a dedication to hatred beyond even his own ability to carry grudges. Then to have Tobirama of all people step in like some volunteer policeman? He feels almost tempted to check himself for signs of whiplash.

Hikaku stays with him until they are well within the boundaries of the Uchiha compound, probably worrying that he might wander off and get up to no good. Which, he can admit, sounds fairly relaxing at the moment. Nothing helps him let off a bit off steam more than pulling a good prank or two on his fellow clan members. Unfortunately he’s had to rein himself in a lot more often to make a good image for anyone watching the Uchiha a little too closely, putting their best foot forward until the gathered clans are all on more solid footing with each other. It’s a shame, really. Behaving is boring.

Left alone only a few streets away from his home, Izuna spends the last few minutes’ walk trying to figure out how to describe what has just transpired without making it sound like some weird over exaggeration. He wanders up their walkway with an absent thought that it looks like the grass seeds they planted are finally sprouting, green shoots rising from bare dirt to stand proud with no help from the mokuton they still deny needing, and scowls to know that it is now perhaps a little late in the season. They will die before they have a chance to live. Perhaps to take advantage of the help Hashirama offers will be necessary after all next year. Madara looks up as Izuna enters their home and matches his frown as though by instinct.

“What’s your problem?” he demands.

“Grass is finally growing,” Izuna mumbles as he kicks off his shoes. “And I got jumped in an alley. Sort of.”

Madara's paperwork drifts slowly down to his lap, eyes narrowing behind the reading glasses he so shamefully hides away from most people, fingers already tapping random patterns against his thigh with rapid thought.

“You look remarkably unruffled for someone who just got jumped.”

“Didn’t exactly turn in to a fight. Almost, there were two of them and one was saying something about me hurting his sister, but we got interrupted.”

“By?” his brother prompts him when he doesn’t go on.

Shuffling in to the room, Izuna flops down in the closest armchair and rolls his eyes. “Who do you think? My biggest fan showed up and just stood there like a ghostly statue, stared the two idiots down until I guess they decided they didn’t want to fight me and him at the same time.”

He feels almost flattered to see Madara set his paperwork entirely aside. As the years go by his brother has grown to be more and more of a workaholic, always needing to be productive and taking less time to simply relax, almost as though he were trying to fill some kind of hole in himself. Izuna wonders sometimes if the man is lonely but he never asks. Romance is generally one of the topics they try not to talk about beyond warning each other to go sleep somewhere else for a night on rare occasions.

“Just like that?” Madara asks eventually. “He showed up out of nowhere to just…stand there?”

“Pretty much. It was weird. When I tried to tell him I had the situation handled all he said was that you were looking for me and then he disappeared like he does except he didn’t go far. Do you think he even realizes that I’m a trained fucking shinobi and I can track chakra like everyone else if I put some effort in to it?”

Several minutes pass without answer but he knows his sibling well enough to know that Madara is only mulling the situation over in his head. Much to the contrary of what most people think, he does have the ability to think before he speaks; it’s just that he loses that ability when his emotions are high and that tends to happen a little too easily. Especially around the two Senju brothers. Both of their one-time enemies have their own way of evoking emotion fairly easily from those around them.

“I can’t say I know what’s in his mind but from what you’ve told me I don’t think he cares whether you know he’s there or not.” Madara hums as though considering his own statement.

“That’s just weird,” Izuna grumbles. “This whole thing is weird. People are actually starting to talk about it, do you realize that? And some of the rumors going around are wild! I’m pretty sure the man isn’t following me around because he’s secretly in love with me.”

“You never know,” Madara points out with the careful thought on his face morphing in to sly teasing.

“Oh don’t even suggest it,” Izuna shoots back, nose wrinkling with distaste.

It isn’t that Tobirama is particularly unattractive. Quite the opposite, actually; he’s been unfairly attractive since the rest of them were all gangly teenagers hating him a little more for having never suffered the indignation of a pimple at the end of his nose. Rather it’s the idea of trying to make a relationship work with someone he would constantly be comparing himself to that balks him. Being competitive is simply in his nature and Izuna is self-aware enough to admit that being so close in power to his partner would leave him feeling childishly not good enough.

His eyes close as he realizes that now he is worrying about this ridiculous possibility he hadn’t even given credence to until he was teased about it. Madara, the bastard, snickers at him from across the room.

“Maybe I can shake him if I volunteer to take a few missions,” Izuna muses aloud. “He’s really not harming me in any way but it’d be nice to not feel eyes following me around all the time. That plays havoc with all the years I spent training myself to be hyper aware of anyone watching me. I keep thinking he’s about to attack.”

“Afraid you’ll lose?” His brother pretends to nod in sage agreement, to which he lifts his middle finger.

“Don’t project your own insecurities on to me, old man.”

The wave of profanity that crashes over him in response flows in one ear and out the other as Izuna tunes it all out with the ease of practice. He is already trying to remember the mission list that got posted this morning and whether there had been anything on it which might keep him away for a few days just to relax, to breathe without having to wonder if red eyes might be watching his every movement.

Getting out of the village will be good for him anyway. It will be interesting to see how the climates have changed in the area with the forming of Konoha and all the other lands following their example. When the only thing he needed to call himself was an Uchiha there had been certain cities and towns that welcomed him with the relief of knowing he would protect them if need be while others had watched him pass through their lands from behind closed blinds, reporting every movement to the other clans they were allied with. Now that he carries with him the weight of Konohagakure on his shoulders he wonders how those same eyes will watch him. Friendly, the ally of his allies? Or will suspicion and prejudice linger as they all pretend that it doesn’t here in the village itself?

It feels strange to hope that lingering prejudice is the only reason Tobirama keeps following him around but Izuna finds his thoughts wandering back to the rumors of a strange romantic obsession and shudders, pushing the idea away as quickly as it returns to him. Some time away will hopefully clear his mind and allow him to come back to this odd situation with fresh eyes. Maybe then he will be able to see past the things he is afraid of finding to spot the real reason.

Like any good plan, however, it is subject to unexpected changes. Namely the innocent smile on Hashirama's face the next morning as he stands in the man’s office and stares with abject horror.

“You want me to what?”

“Accompany Tobirama on his mission! It’s a simple delivery but our intelligence says that Iwa shinobi have been spotted in the area and they’ve been doing everything they can to sabotage our efforts in reaching out to new allies.” His eyes turn soft in the way that says he is slipping away in to dreamy thoughts. “Normally I would send Touka with him, they’ve always worked well together, but then something Maddy said made me realize that it would be really good to make a show of unity, you know?”

“Unity.” Izuna parrots the word faintly, hardly able to believe his ears. He is going to kill his brother for this.

With an oblivious nod Hashirama goes on. “Yes! The biggest concern we see from the clans we’re reaching out to is their doubt that this peace is real. What better way to convince them of our sincerity than to see you and Tobi working together?”

“That’s very sound logic,” he has to admit. “Terrible, awful, and disgustingly sound logic.”

“Isn’t it? When I told Tobi my idea all he did was stare at me without saying anything. I would have thought he’d be proud of me for coming up with such a clever idea.”

Doing his best to ignore the most powerful man in the nation pouting at him like a child asking for sympathy, Izuna draws in a deep breath and lets it back out slowly. Of course his old rival had only stared. The man is probably leaping for maniacal joy on the inside to be handed such a perfect excuse to continue stalking him from even closer than usual. So much for getting some time away.

“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice but to accept,” Izuna mumbles more to himself than to Hashirama. After making a point to seek out a mission for himself it will only make him look like a dissenter if he refuses to work this one simply because of who he’s been asked to work with.

“Excellent! Right, I have a copy of the mission details here if you’d like to take the scroll and look it over. You’ll be leaving in two days so don’t worry about rushing, there’s plenty of time to get things together or find someone to cover your work. I know Tobi hates to come home and find his paperwork has piled up.”

“Does he now?”

The other man beams at his rhetorical question, clearly mistaking it for interest, and continues to blather on long past the point when Izuna stops listening. Now that he’s been enjoying the benefits of it for months he will be the last person to declare this peace a mistake but Izuna will freely and eagerly state for anyone who asks that he regrets the effects it seems to be having on Tobirama. Or more accurately he regrets that it has given the man chances such as the one he finds himself falling in to now.

Quietly planning revenge on his own brother for having any part in saddling him with this doom, Izuna allows Hashirama's voice to wash over him like a constant stream as he unrolls the scroll to peruse its contents. The mission itself doesn’t seem too complicated, typical first contact stuff, a good show of cooperation and goodwill before they saunter on home again. It’s ironically just the sort of thing he’s been hoping for. Of course, he’s been hoping to go alone or perhaps to drag Hikaku along with him. Now he is to be saddled with an extra shadow to follow along behind.

A little piece of home to come with him, he thinks wryly.

“Much as I appreciate your stellar conversation”-Izuna interrupts the flow of words without guilt the moment he is finished reading-“I do believe I should go set my paperwork in order now rather than leaving it until the last minute. Whoever takes up my duties while I’m gone won’t appreciate a messy filing system.”

“Yeah, Tobi’s always on my back to be less messy. I won’t keep you then!”

Izuna nods and turns away. He makes it all the way to the door and twists the handle when his attention is called back to see Hashirama’s face take on a hesitant, almost pensive expression.

“Thank you for accepting this mission. I know the two of you aren’t close the way Maddy and I are but I think…this will be good for him.” He says nothing more than that, no explanation for such cryptic words, and once again Izuna finds himself wondering whether this man knows what sort of behavior his sibling gets up to at every opportunity.

Rather than ask he simply nods and turns back to the door again. Tobirama tends to stay farther away whenever he keeps within the boundaries of the Uchiha compound. If he is to be denied the space he’s been trying to create for himself then Izuna very much intends to spend as much time as possible on his own before several days of having to walk side by side with his own unexplained stalker. Maybe – and it’s a big maybe – he might be able to force some sort of clue out of the man while they’re alone in the wilderness for days on end.

A man can dream, even if he dreams of nothing more than an answer to his questions.

#rae writes #izuna #tobirama #hikaku #madara #hashirama #fanfiction

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