#they should be taking it very seriously and hopefully will be the catalyst for him getting the help he desperately needs

[pop-punklouis]

how do you feel about whats being said about liam in maya's new book? about him making her get an abortion or else he would leave her and he didn;t even drive her to the hospital when she had complications due to the abortion? gross as fuck

i wasn't even aware of all of what was going on with liam until yesterday because i tend to try and stay as far away as possible from knowing things about liam.

but, i'm not sure exactly how i'm supposed to feel other than grossed out and disturbed? not sure there should be an array of opinions over what maya shared (if people are having differing opinions that is). what she said should be taken seriously. and i hate that she went through that- at any age with a partner but especially being as young as she was. it seems like this book is her way to heal, and who am i to judge how someone who was in a toxic relationship with someone of liam's caliber should heal?

addiction is such an insidious symptom to a damaged person, and as someone who was in a long-term relationship with an addict from 19-23, it's awful. if you've never experienced being on the other side of that.... it's difficult to even wrap your brain around the abuse that can accumulate both for the partner and the addict, themselves. it just. fucking sucks. and i have a lot of sympathy for addicts because of what i've went through. so i do have sympathy for liam's continuous addiction, but there is a very fine line for having sympathy for someone's addiction and excusing them for the behavior they exhibit while going through their addiction. i don't excuse his abusive behavior. i don't excuse his manipulation tactics in his relationships. i don't excuse his manic episodes and harmful comments that he's said about his partners or his former bandmates etc.

i hope he finally gets the help he so desperately needs, because its clear from years of observation that he needs long-term rehabilitation and good people around him to truly fend off his addictions instead of them staying cyclical. but, that also doesn't mean i have to support him otherwise. i'm tired of how he handles situations and the boys and his relationships and his own brand. he genuinely needs to seek help, because what maya talks about in that book shows that he is severely damaged and even if he does get fully sober, he still has demons to face.

#grey #honestly still not over how he talked about zayn on the logan paul podcast sorry #that shit still enrages me #but i mean. no one should be pushing maya's story to the side #they should be taking it very seriously and hopefully will be the catalyst for him getting the help he desperately needs #by all of his abuse being put center stage #i dunno

[thekitschdiet]

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet. 

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days. 

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress. 

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram.  Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it. 

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is  actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even… 

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera. 

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

 I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead.  Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit. 

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an  inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read). 

[ciaran-archive]

Serious question. How do you write long stories? Is there a technique or advice for that? No matter what story I have in mind, I can't seem to tell it in anything longer than 1 to 2k. Writing 5k is tiring already, where do people seriously get that stamina to even do 50 or 100 or 200k? It's mind-blowingly amazing.

there is nothing less worthy or amazing about writing shorter fic - i know writers who struggle with it, and i’ve come to inhabit that position somewhat myself, though i’m determined to stay in practice. it’s a different skillset, that’s all. your fics aren’t worse for being shorter.

that said i will not deny that longer fics generate far more engagement from fandoms simply by virtue of updating more often  → being on top of the ao3 tag when people first open it  → getting more clicks and being considered less ‘frivolous’ (which is bullshit, but what can you do)

if you’re dead sure you want to write longer fic, i would first recommend reading this post about writing drabbles, which i promise is relevant to the point i’m about to make.

Because drabbles are about one moment. You don't need to know exactly what happened before this moment of dialogue, or what happens next, or what's happening around it. You don't have to do any of the planning you might do for a longer fic, but you also don't have the space to let the scene lead in and develop naturally. You've got 100 words.

a lot of writing a longer story is about establishing the scope of your story, deciding what beats you want to hit. there are a lot of ways to go about this; [some people like to outline. i don’t outline, ever, so if you want help for outlining you should look at the other sources on the internet. there are quite a few.] i’m going to talk about the way i’ve learnt to do it.

so when i’m writing a short fic, the thing i’m considering is one or two ideas, and one or two moments (short in this case being under 5k). this also depends on the style i’m going for - fics with sparser styles can fit more scenes, if i’m going for my usual style, each scene takes about 700-2000 words at least and therefore takes up more space. a lot of how i eased into writing longer fics was focusing on stylistic changes - you can push up the word count of a fic by going moment by moment. note the difference between: 

They’d been standing next to each other as they spoke; now Felix turned to him in the rain, startled by the admission of weakness. He reached out clumsily, bumping his hand against Ryan’s until he took the hint and grabbed on.

and 

The rain made it near-impossible to hear Ryan speaking, but the harshness in his voice would’ve been audible through a hurricane. “So you ran away,” he said, like he hadn’t expected this. 

“Course I did,” Felix snapped. “What was I supposed to do? Stick it out and let her kill me?” I almost did, he added under his breath.

Ryan’s sensitive werewolf ears, of course, caught that. “I’m glad you did,” he amended, as though it pained him to admit it. “I would’ve - I did the same. It’s all you can do, sometimes.”

Felix turned to him, blinking through the curtains of water. Ryan was slouching in the downpour, eyes narrowed elsewhere. Mostly he was startled by the admission of weakness - rare in a person who prided himself so thoroughly on being reliable and independent. He reached out, struck by the urge to offer whatever clumsy comfort he was capable of; his hand bumped against Ryan’s, and he held it there until Ryan caught up and wove their fingers together. 

His hands were wet and cold, and he gripped so hard Felix’s very human bones ached, but he wouldn’t have pulled away now. Not when he’d been the one to offer.

it’s not even that one is necessarily better than the other - they both work, and they’re working in different ways. they’re set in the same scene, conveying the same beat - reaching out to comfort someone in the wake of vulnerability. it’s just that one is longer, and therefore gives you more room to - set the scene (rain, being unable to hear each other) - use dialogue to show what is being told in the first example - convey extra information about the characters (actually, if this was a scene i was writing in a fic or novel, the stuff about ryan being a werewolf would already be known to the reader, so i would use that space to convey something else about ryan in that moment) - elaborate on felix’s internal state: the transition from defensive to curious/surprised to gentle - linger for a sentence or two on the moment of connection

this is about unraveling a scene and making it bigger than it was, breaking it apart into tinier beats and describing each one in the narrative. what happens when you do that and your fic doesn’t get much bigger still?

back to scope! we understand, as people who read and write and live, that the part of a story that you choose to depict in a narrative is not the entire story: events happen off-screen. some of them happened before the story started, and they will continue to happen after the story ends. the narrative is only showing you an arc, a particular series of events. 

when you’re writing fic, you have in fact tremendous amounts of flexibility when it comes to the scope of a story. you can write something that is about a single moment in canon, and trust that your audience is following along because they have the context already. so you don’t need to waste time on setting it up, which often means - if you’re given to a certain kind of fic writing (canon compliant / small divergences / missing scenes / character studies) your fics will end up not being very long because you’re not reiterating what you don’t need to reiterate. your idea is small because it inhabits a small space, is squished between canon events, and so doesn’t ever get bigger. if this is what is happening, it’s good, and you should try to preserve this going forward. 

people who are writing longer fic are, simply, working with bigger ideas*. they’re not just going “what if he said what he wanted in this scene instead of going home?” and writing the bit where they kiss immediately after - they’re also going “what if this changed everything in the future? what happens if they tackle all their problems together from now on? what new problems arise from this?”

*hopefully they are working with bigger ideas. i have seen longfics that are just incredibly fucking tedious because the author swallowed a thesaurus and had a tenuous grasp on plotting to begin with. 

that’s for a canon divergent fic, presumably. you might also be writing a post-canon fic, with its own set of pre-fic events and a new set of problems to deal with. currently, for example, i’m writing a fic where akira and goro were dating after canon, broke up, and stayed together in a deeply dysfunctional way after that - and the consequences for them now that they’re forced to deal with the mess they’ve made of their lives, together and apart. so now they have to deal with: the catalyst for dealing with their old problems, which is a problem in itself, and their old problems, which have been festering for a really long time.

which forms the core of the scope i’m talking about. i have to go through a bunch of scenes to set this fic up - i need to show their old problems and their new problems, i need to explain why the old ones haven’t been dealt with already, i need to set up the potential for dealing with them and the necessity of doing so, i need to give them places to start, and also i want to allow them to fail so they can choose to start again. i know these things because i have some idea of the kind of story i want to tell. if i didn’t know this, my story would not go anywhere by itself, and i would have to start outlining scene by scene the way people who actually outline do it, and i hate doing that because then i never write. 

if you can outline and it doesn’t make you want to chew wood, then i highly recommend picking up the habit. it’s very useful, and the methodical approach is a fantastic failsafe for the moments when you (me) get stuck on your fic (breakup au) and have to stop writing for several weeks in order to figure out a single fucking plot point that will let you move forward and

anyway. 

so yeah! to sum up;

find a larger scope for your story

get in the habit of picking apart beats into discrete moments and guiding the narrative through them

learn to outline if you can

last thing - which is perhaps the most vital and least reliable - stamina. 

you WILL lose interest in half the longer fics you write. it WILL suck. if you think you know pain because you have 700 words of a fic and can’t get through the last 400, i promise you it is like that but much worse because you have 7000 words now, or 17000 words, and you are stuck with no way forward. it will suck so BAD. 

don’t beat yourself up over it. once you’re in the habit of writing something long, you will retain that habit, and be able to apply it elsewhere. the words aren’t wasted, they’re practice, and they’re worth what they’ve taught you.

but! all the scope and internal scene-building and outlines won’t help you if you do not (and this is not as bad as everyone makes it sound) actually write. you HAVE to learn to actually write. you have to figure out what you like about writing and make a longfic outline [/ scene beats notes chart / themes mind map / tumblr tag of inspiring quotes and photography] that consists entirely of stuff you love and then you have to sit down and write your fic. it is not terribly scary. it’s okay to fail, but you also have no way around this. 

i hope this helped, and good luck!

#writelogging #ok 2 rb #anon #asks

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Nice to meet you

Rex: *waking up* huh!? Where... am I? Is this.... the infirmary?

Rex had awakened in a bed in the chaldea infirmary after narrowly surviving the events of the Fuyuki singularity... then opening the door, Dr. Romani entered the room to check up on him.

Roman: hey Rex! How're you doing?

Rex: I feel fine.... nothing hurts..

Roman: good to hear.

Rex: so.... what the hell happened?

Roman: well... after you and the twins and Mash got back from that singularity, you all fell unconscious and had to be taken here to recover. Thankfully, no major injuries, in fact you should be able to leave later today!

Rex: oh! That's cool!

After a moment of silence, Rex asks a very important question.

Rex: so.... it's real right? This whole... save the world thing? We're really the only ones left that can do anything about it?

Roman: ....yes, unfortunately we are.... I wish that wasn't the case but.... it's all on us... you and the twins especially...

Rex: yeah.... I figured.... so.... is the summoning system ready yet?

Roman: ...why do you ask?

Rex: because.... we've got a world to save.... and I'm.... I'm ready to go... but we need servants

Roman: now wait a minute Rex, I said you're good to leave later today, but I'm not sure you'll be able to handle the strain of that just yet

Rex: oh come on, Doc! You and Da Vinci already said I have abnormally good magical circuits, surely I can handle it!

Roman: I still think it's a bad idea at the moment

Rex: the world is at stake! Human history as we know it is at stake!

Roman: all the more reason to make sure you're at your best!

Rex: I'm raring to go right now!

Roman: *sigh* can't you just wait a few more days?

Rex: do we even have that much time?!

Roman: Rex, we can't take big risks

Rex: and we can't waste time either! C'mon just 1 servant! I already have a Catalyst and everything!

Roman: *sigh* you're not going back down are you?

Rex: nope!

Roman: fine.... after you're good to go, you can go and summon 1 servant! But just one! You got that!?

Rex: crystal clear!

Roman: good... let's hope things turn out well...

Later, when Rex was cleared to leave, he immediately went over to the summoning room with his catalyst, a big green feather. He entered the summoning room, and saw the machine, ready to go.

Rex: there it is.... and I'm about to use it.... now did it go again? Just place my catalyst on the center and pull the lever?

Rex did just that, placing the large green feather near the center of the summoning circle and went back to the lever to get ready to summon an ally in this fight to save the world.

Rex: man.... how is it just now hitting me, that I'm going to be... just bringing a person here, out of thin air! Will I be able to handle it? Will they be mean? Will they kill me on sight?

Rex looked at the feather he placed on the circle

Rex: ....he said it'd bring about a mighty Aztec warrior.... but who could that be....? Well... only one way to find out!

Rex pulled the lever to the machine and it started up!

The little white orbs of light could be seen circling around, shimmering a gold light, until they formed a ring, that split into three and then a large column of light appeared at the center, in the column the appearance of what seemed to be a warrior pulling a chariot formed.

Rex: rider.... I think that's the symbol for the rider class....

Then soon after the column dissipates, and in it's place a very tall and beautiful woman could be seen...

Rex, internally: HOLY FUCK!!!! THAT HAS TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON IN EXISTENCE!!!

The woman before him had wavy blonde hair, wore a redish top, with what seemed to be a red "skirt" an ornate headdress and was decked out in golden jewelry and jade green gems aswell. But another thing that stood out, tremendously about her was her height, Rex could see she was easily a little over 7 feet tall... Rex loved everything about her appearance. Then the blonde woman spoke up

???: Hiiii! The Goddess Quetzalcoatl arrives in the ring! Huh? I expected nude priests, but you're an adorable little summoner. Heehee, I don't suppose you're interested in tall, older women?

Rex responded, without thinking

Rex: y-yes! I'm very interested in tall, older women! They're my favorite!

Quetzalcoatl: oh, is that so?! Then I think we'll get along just fine!

Once Rex finally composed himself, he finally processed what she said

Rex: wait... did you say you're.... the Goddess Quetzalcoatl?!?!

Quetz: Si! I am! But you can just call me, Quetz if that's too much.

Rex: I'm just trying to process how my catalyst allowed me to summon a FUCKING GODDESS! and an extremely powerful at that!

Quetz: oh, Master! You're going to make me blush!

Rex: right.... I'm your master.... that'll take some getting used to....

Quetz: if you want me to call you something else, I can

Rex: n-no... master is fine.... I guess...

Quetz: ok then!

Then the door to the summoning room opened up, and Romani walked in, looking for Rex.

Roman: Rex! Did you already sta- oh! You already summoned someone...

Rex: yeah... Dr. Roman, meet the goddess, Quetzalcoatl!

Quetz: Hola! Nice to meet you!

Roman: wait... did you say... GODDESS?!?!

Rex: yup...!

Roman: but... that should be impossible! I knew you had good magical circuits but.... A GODDESS?!?!?!

Rex: I'm just as surprised as you are, man! I guess I got real lucky with my catalyst!

Roman: ok but, how did a feather!? Help you summon her!?

Rex: good question

Then, Quetzalcoatl picked up the feather and examined it... to her it was... familiar... but she couldn't say why...

Rex: uh... anything wrong, Quetz?

Quetz: hmmm?! Oh, it's nothing master! Just lost in thought! So, what's the first order of business!?

Rex: good question, I guess... introduce you to the others?

Quetz: sounds good to me!

Roman: well they twins and Mash are in the cafeteria, if you wanna see them.

Rex: oh yeah, I'm starving! Let's go!

Then the three of them left for the cafeteria to eat and introduce Quetz to the others.

Pffft! Seriously papá?! You actually said that to her?!

Y-yeah! What about it?!

Who just... says that?!

Now now, mis hijos, don't laugh! You're father wasn't thinking, is all...

Ok but also... why is that the first thing you ask him?

!!!!!

Well... um....

Did you already fall in love and wanted to know if you were his type?

I-I wouldn't say that.... but there was this... tightness in my chest.... when we first laid eyes on each other.... I couldn't explain it...

Does sound a little like love....

Maybe so....

A/N: so here we go! If you couldn't tell, this was a revisit of how summoning Quetz went! But with some Retcons along with reactions from the kids too! Hopefully you guys like it! Will be doing this for a while with a few more stories!

Tags

@exmeowstic @grievouslyxorvia @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong @hasmataharidoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @hasmerlindoneanythingwrong @renmeo @neptuknight @writer-and-artist27 @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #mastersona #rex #wife #rexcoatl #eduardo #maria #romani archaman

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

Watt martian au? Tell me more

!!!!! okay SO

so it was very very important to me that the finale squad be the ares 3 crew because i just needed that to be a thing so

lewis - cairo

martinez - reese

vogel - annleigh

beck - kate

johanssen - eva

watney - mattie

so mattie is, unfortunately, the one who gets stranded on mars

and then for the other four

mitch henderson - riley

venkat kapoor - chess

annie montrose - farrah

mindy park - clark

SO

cairo is the commander of the ares 3 mission, and she's also the geologist

reese pilots the mdv (how they get from the hermes down to mars), the mav (how they get from mars back to the hermes), and i think the hermes (which is the ship that takes them to and from mars, it's really big and expensive so there's only one that's used for the entire ares program)

annleigh is the chemist and astrodynamicist

eva is the computer expert

kate is the flight surgeon and eva specialist (eva stands for extra-vehicular activity, or anything done outside of an earth atmosphere)

mattie is the botanist and engineer

riley is the head of astronaut corps

chess is the manager of the entire ares program

farrah is in charge of nasa's pr

clark works in satellite imaging and he's the one who figures out that mattie is alive

(also they refer to the astronauts with their last names because nasa so technically i should be saying adekoya, roberts, o'daniel, sanchez, dalton, and wheeler, but no♥️)

the mission i think was around 200 days to mars, and then reese piloted the mdv down to the surface, where all their stuff for the mission was there in advance. in the first few days, they set up the hab (base of operations, where they live, etc), the solar panels, and checked out the mav - the ship that was sent in advance and would bring them back to hermes

on sol (mars days are called sols and they're about forty minutes longer than earth days) 6, the mission was hit with a huge sandstorm - the mission was designed to withstand up to 150 km per hour winds, and the storm was 175 km per hour, so yeah, that was very very BAD. the problem wasn't whether the hab would pop - the problem was that the mav couldn't stand up to that much wind for that long. so houston gave the order to abort and they all suited up and went out in the storm to try and get to the mav. halfway there, mattie was struck by debris (the satellite dish) and the antenna went right through her bio-monitor, showing all her vitals as 0. cairo refused to stop looking, but the mav began to tip and she had to get back, and they left for the hermes, believing mattie to be dead.

SURPRISE!! mattie is not, in fact, dead!

the antenna also ripped a hole in her, but the angle at which she landed and also the blood created a weak seal, so her suit was okay. she stayed passed out while the co2 filters were expended, the suit backfilled with nitrogen, and then eventually the oxygen alarm went off because the suit had to backfill with pure oxygen, and the concentration was about 85% which is very bad. she got up, got back to the hab, fixed her wound, and began to figure out what the fuck to do.

the primary comm system was in the satellite dish, which, as mentioned, definitely wasn't functional. the secondary and tertiary comm systems were in the mav, which the rest of the crew took up to the hermes, so clearly those were gone too, so mattie has no way to get in contact with earth or hermes. and in the case of an abort, hermes would only stay in orbit for 24 hours, so by the time mattie could fix the satellite, they'd be long gone.

the surface mission was only for 31 sols, but for redundancy, nasa sent 56 sols worth of food. since they got 6 sols into their mission, mattie has 50 sols of food for 6 people. since she's only one person, she has 300 sols of food, which if she rationed it, would stretch to 400 sols. except she has four years before ares 4 is supposed to launch, and 400 sols of food won't reach there. but!

the surface mission was during thanksgiving, so nasa's psychologists were like "hey, maybe they should cook a meal together for bonding" and so mattie has twelve non freeze dried potatoes. and! she's a BOTANIST! and because of that, she has some stuff for plant experiments - some earth soil! the only problem with mars soil is that it doesn't have the bacteria that is needed for plants, but mattie can mix her soil with mars soil in the hab and have enough to farm a bunch of potatoes. potatoes plus vitamins can help stretch her food supply!

so she grows potatoes. except water is a problem. so she figures she can make water using liquid oxygen, and then gets hydrogen from leftover hydrazine fuel, by running the hydrazine over an iridium catalyst and separating the nitrogen and hydrogen, and then burning the hydrogen and oxygen to make water. except she miscalculated and accidentally filled the hab with hydrogen and made a bomb. so she burned the hydrogen off little by little, forgot to calculate the oxygen she was breathing, blew herself up, and then tried again and eventually fixed her hydrogen problem. so after a lot of effort, she had a way to make water for the potatoes.

the whole time, she's been bored as hell because she left her own entertainment usb stick on the hermes, to focus on the mission, but now she's super bored, so she rifles through the other crewmembers' stuff and finds medical journals in kate's stuff (nerd), nothing in reese's stuff, annleigh's stuff is in german, agatha christie novels in eva's stuff, and disco music and 70s tv in cairo's stuff. so she's losing her mind listening to SO MUCH DISCO.

back on earth, chess is begging the director of nasa, teddy sanders, for some satellite time to take pictures of the ares 3 site, because she figures that since they aborted so early, there's still almost an entire mission up there and she might be able to get funding for an ares 6 mission, she just needs pictures of what the site looks like and the damage from the storm. teddy keeps denying the request because nasa is a public domain organization and has to release all the photos they take within 24 hours, and teddy doesn't want astronaut wheeler's body on the front page of every newspaper in america. eventually, chess convinces him to give her the satellite time, and clark is assigned to take her pictures. when he does, he notices that the solar panels are clean, one of the rovers has been moved, the mdv has been disassembled (mattie needed the hydrazine), and he can't find mattie's body. so he calls chess and they realize shit, mattie is alive. farrah, being the pr manager, is tasked with telling the world that mattie wheeler is alive, which is a disaster, and they work on getting in contact with mattie. riley says "shit, we have to tell the crew" but teddy and chess veto it, because the crew still has ten months of space travel ahead of them, and they need to focus on their mission. riley is pissed, but there's nothing she can do.

in the meantime, mattie figures that in four years, she needs to be at the schiaparelli crater, where ares 4 will land, which is really far away from acidalia planetia, where ares 3 is. so she needs to drive like 3400 kilometers to schiaparelli. as a test, she modifies the rover and spends three weeks driving 1500 kilometers to the site of pathfinder, a 1996 probe that nasa lost contact with in 1997. she gets pathfinder, brings it back to the hab, gets it working, and nasa realizes what she's doing and sets up the old pathfinder computers. mattie hacks the rover, and BAM, she can talk to nasa!

since she has her potatoes, that stretches her food supply a bunch, which gives nasa time to hopefully build a probe to send her supplies to help her last until ares 4 arrives. now that there's a viable rescue plan, riley is cleared to tell the crew.

back on the hermes, eva just got the data dump and she's dispatching personal emails to everyone's laptops when she notices a video file for all of them, and cairo calls the whole crew to come watch. it's riley, saying that mattie is alive and they're going to try to rescue her. mattie stresses that it wasn't the crew's fault every time it comes up. annleigh, reese, kate, and eva are all thrilled that mattie is alive, but cairo is devastated that they left her behind.

mattie has been using airlock 1 every time she leaves the hab, just because that's the one she uses, but the constant use has put a lot of wear and tear on the seams and one day, it's too much and as she's in the airlock, the hab pops, blasting her about 100 meters away, still in the airlock. her faceplate gets cracked, and after 24 hours in the airlock, she manages to fix it, but it's super leaky and it'll only last 4 minutes. so she rolls the airlock back to the hab, goes back in, manages to have just enough time to grab reese's suit's helmet and patch kit, and then escapes to the rover. she gets back in contact with nasa, says she's okay, and fixes the hab, but being exposed to mars's atmosphere killed all her crops, shortening her food supply significantly. so the probe nasa is going to send needs to be a whole lot faster.

nasa builds iris in about 46 days, but they have to cancel inspections to save some time, and the launch fails, and they don't have another booster, so mattie is totally fucked.

nasa's psychologists have mattie write emails to each member of her crew, just in case she doesn't make it, which is becoming more and more likely. the emails (summarized):

to reese: if i die, you need to be the one to talk to my parents. they'll wanna hear about mars. it won't be easy, i know, but i'm asking you to do it, because you're my best friend.

to eva: you're a nerd. seriously, i had to do so much computer stuff to connect pathfinder to the rover and how the hell can you stand it oh my god, you're such a nerd.

to annleigh: chemistry is boring, i hate it. also you are a chemist with a base on mars, you're some sort of mad scientist supervillain.

to kate: okay so i don't have to follow mission rules anymore so: dude... you gotta tell eva how you feel or you'll regret it.

to cairo: it wasn't your fault, okay? you did the right thing, you saved everybody else. don't blame yourself. also why the FUCK do you like disco so goddamn much???????

so it turns out that china actually has a booster that isn't public knowledge, so if nasa could build another probe, china could supply the booster. they agree to it, in exchange that the ares 5 crew will have a chinese astronaut. an astrodynamicist named rich purnell realizes that it would be so much more likely to succeed if they sent the hermes back to mars, so he plots a course that could have china's booster, the taiyang shen, resupply the hermes, and then the hermes would go back to mars, do a flyby, and mattie would meet them in space using the ares 4 mav. the problem is there's only one booster, so they can either build iris 2, which has a high chance of killing one person, or do the rich purnell maneuver, which has a low chance of killing six people. teddy decides to go with iris 2, but riley is furious and disagrees and secretly sends the ares 3 crew the instructions for the rich purnell maneuver.

on the ship, annleigh has a personal email from her family that has a jpeg attachment she can't get open, so she goes and finds eva, who realizes it isn't a jpeg, it's a plain ascii file. annleigh recognizes it as a maneuver for the hermes and explains it to the whole crew. cairo says that if they were to do this, which is something that nasa expressly rejected, it would be mutiny, so it isn't her decision to make. they all have to unanimously agree. obviously, all of them immediately agree to go back and save mattie.

riley gets in trouble with teddy for sending the maneuver, but she has no regrets.

nasa tells mattie the plan for the flyby, and she's cool with it - after all, she already had a plan to drive to schiaparelli eventually.

nasa launches the taiyang shen, and it goes perfectly, resupplying the hermes as expected.

back on mars, mattie is modifying the rovers for the trip to schiaparelli. part of this involves drilling a hole in the roof of rover 1, so that she can fit the life support machines she needs in it during the trip. she accidentally leans the drill against a table, and accidentally sends 9000 milliamps through pathfinder's system, which is designed for 100 milliamps, and totally fries it so she can't talk to nasa anymore, which is bad. she decides to proceed with the plan as intended, and once she gets to the ares 4 mav, she'll be able to talk to nasa again.

back on the hermes, reese complains that the cooling system by her room isn't working, and it's basically trying to cook her every night. mattie's room next to hers has the exact same problem. so she's been sleeping in airlock 2, but that's very dangerous for very obvious reasons. so cairo says "okay, you can sleep in kate's room, and kate can sleep with eva." kate apparently took mattie's email to heart, and they've been trying to be subtle, but it's a pretty small ship and everyone knows they're together. cairo says she doesn't care, since this is already a pretty crazy mission, as long as it doesn't mess with their duties.

back on mars, mattie begins her 100 sol drive to schiaparelli. the problem: there's a dust storm, and her rover is powered by solar panels. it's not as violent as the one that forced them to abort the mission, it's just a huge cloud of dust she can get stuck in. but she manages to figure out how to get around the storm and continues on her merry way to the schiaparelli crater.

when she reaches schiaparelli and begins to descend into the crater, her rover hits a soft spot on the ramp and flips over. she's fine, and it doesn't take too long to fix, so eventually she continues on.

and now she has reached schiaparelli!!!! she gets back in contact with nasa through the mav, and nasa lets the hermes and mav talk directly - not a call, just emails back and forth, but they get to have a conversation and the hermes is so close to earth at this point that they're only a couple light-seconds away, so there's barely any delay.

problem: normally, the hermes would orbit mars for 31 sols and then the mav would bring the crew to low mars orbit and dock with the hermes, but the flyby won't let the hermes go into orbit, so mattie has to basically gut the mav to make it light enough to get up into space entirely. part of that involves removing the entire front of the ship, and the control panels, so mattie won't control the ship - reese will pilot it remotely. everything is good to go, and they're ready for launch.

the day of the rescue comes, and because mars and earth are 12 light-minutes apart, if the ares crew asked a question, it would take 24 minutes to get a response, so they're entirely on their own with no help from nasa. the plan is for reese to fly the ship, eva sysops the ascent, and kate literally has to go out in space, catch the mav, and bring mattie back while annleigh is their backup. reese launches the ship, and mattie had to cover the hole with hab canvas, which rips in the ascent and throws mattie off course. they're 68 kilometers apart, which is way too far. they use the attitude adjusters to get closer to the mav, but then they're going 42 meters per second, which is way too fast. to slow down,,,,, cairo has annleigh build a bomb and they blow a hole in the vehicular airlock, which helps them slow down enough that kate can catch mattie.

kate goes out, gets mattie out of the ship, and annleigh reels them in. cairo reports six crew safely aboard, and there's worldwide celebration.

kate brings mattie back to the medbay and bandages her ribs, and it ends with mattie sitting in the medbay, sore, exhausted, starving, vision blurry from acceleration sickness, and so goddamn happy that she's going to live. she reflects a bit on how many people came together to save her life, and how that's basic human nature, and she's just really glad to be on her way back to earth.

#we are the tigers #mattie wheeler #cairo adekoya #reese watt #annleigh o'daniel #kate dalton #eva sanchez #chess watt #riley williams #farrah watt #clark watt #anne answers things #spoopy (skeleton) #holy shit this got long #anyways!!!!!! martian au!!!!!

[theastrophilearchitect]

A new project.

Because the first one wasn’t working. Writing journey #3.

Tue 30/03/2021 - ‘Bay Tree’ Word Count: 42,150 07.27 Hello! So I established in my last writing update that I was taking a break from my WIP ‘Bay Tree’, to return May 10th, and even though I’m not writing today, I just wanted to say that taking a break feels amazing. I’m focusing on reading (granted, I’ve been reading House of Earth and Blood for like two weeks) and it’s really helping ideas for edits develop. 

In my draft, I got to chapter 13 (I think) of twenty-something (because I didn’t fully outline the climax, so I’m unclear as to how many chapters there will ultimately be) but I just don’t think I can get all the way through a draft without first doing some developmental edits. So, for the next few weeks, I’m going to note the changes I think I could make, then figure out which ones I won’t implement, then how I will implement the others on May 10th.

In the meantime, this Thursday, I’m going to start working on a new WIP, which I have quite a clear idea for, but obviously need to develop the plot. So that’s it for today, and I’ll update again for my new project on Thursday April 1st.

Thu 01/04/2021 09.54 It is Thursday! I’m free for a couple weeks! Which means it’s time to start working on a new project. My goal for the day is just to compile some of the various ideas I have into something vaguely cohesive, then I’ll develop it tomorrow, and hopefully make a skeletal outline on Saturday, scene block on Sunday... I’m going to shut up before I set myself a thousand insane deadlines, but I’d like to have started a draft by the end of my free time. So, let’s go.

Wow. Blank documents really are intimidating, aren’t they?

13.04 I already had my core concept, but now I have almost a justification for it--why it happens, and I think I want to build up my world first, then characters, because knowing the world and its various peoples will allow me to figure out how exactly they fit in and develop their motivations, then finally do the plot. I’ll only work out the three characters I’m currently certain will be integral for the plot, because I don’t want to waste time on developing characters who are ultimately unnecessary, like I did in the earliest days of Bay Tree. 

Basically, with a world, I can work out motivations; with motivations, I can work out characters, and with characters, I can create a character-driven plot. I want to focus on creating both lovable characters and a memorable plot--I know all my favourite books have memorable characters, but the ones I enjoy the absolute most are the ones where it doesn’t feel like the plot only exists to drive the characters into relationships (I’m looking at you, Cassandra Clare. Seriously, I love Shadowhunters books, but the technically ‘main’ plots always feel second to the subplots).

Fri 02/04/2021 08.16 Honestly, didn’t get too much done yesterday. Mostly because I ended up down a rabbit hole of researching (though I do think what I learned will help me to form my world), and I was busier than I expected to be. Regardless, I think I want to make this a series. I have a feeling Bay Tree is also going to become at least two books when I revisit it, but I’m going to go into this one with that intention.

Obviously I don’t know how long it will be right now, but I think I’m going to aim for three books, then let it shape itself.

12.25 I just spent an hour writing out a history of the world and how it got to where it is. This is really fun, but really intense.

16.36 So, I have a rough plot in mind. I have an ending, a catalyst, a backstory for the world, and a few characters. And a lot of things that need names. I waited a really long time to name my characters in Bay Tree, thinking they’d be easier to name when I had then conceptualised, which makes sense, but I’d given them numbers with which to refer to them until that point, so it was a long time before my protagonist became her actual name instead of just ‘3′, despite the fact she technically became 2 because I had to cut 1.

Anyway, going to pick names, then let nominative determinism do its thing.

Jesus, I have no good male names. I keep a list of names, first and last, I like for use, but I have so many more female ones than I do male.

In Bay Tree, I used MBTIs as a starting point for personalities, which I’m planning to do here, especially since I know the types so much better now, but I want names first.

Maybe I just ought to choose this specific character’s surname first. Maybe he goes by his surname, or some variation thereupon (like how Daniel Arlington from Ninth House goes by Darlington).

Maybe he doesn’t need a name. Maybe we literally just call him Hero Guy.

God, screw this. He’s Hero Guy until either it comes to me, or I have no choice but to name him.

Sat 03/04/2021 11.15 I feel like crap today. I’ve been doing nothing for three hours, and I, quite frankly, need to get something done. So I’m going to write.

12.41 Wow, initial development really is the hardest bit of the process, huh?

Sun 04/04/2021 08.04 I’d really like to do more worldbuilding first, and character development, but it’s difficult when I don’t know the different parts’ roles. So, today, I’m going to attempt to outline the primary plot points of the three books. Attempt being the operative word here.

13.41 Honestly, yeah, I’m struggling with the plot. I think I managed to get Bay Tree’s plot so fast when I sat down to actually write it because it had been on my brain for a couple weeks, whereas I literally started this project three days ago.

Maybe that’s how I’ll handle this--when I hit a wall with one project, I work on the other to give myself some distance. Working on Bay Tree requires less thought anyway, because that plot’s already mostly figured out. Yeah. I think I’m going to revisit Bay Tree, but for reference’s sake, I’m going to dub the new project... eh... the first thing that came to mind was ‘Feather President’ which is more related to the actual content than ‘Bay Tree’, but it sounds so much crazier. I want to dub it something that actually could be a title, even if it definitely won’t be the final title, because I don’t want people to look at my blog, see ‘Feather President’ in the pinned post and immediately assume I’m insane.

Could always just use an acronym. Let’s go with FSB; those are one of the character’s (also the only character who so far has a name) initials, which may ultimately change, but it works for now. Bay Tree and FSB.

I’m going to end this particular writing stint here and come back in a couple hours, at which point I’m going to switch back to Bay Tree.

I should really stop planning so far ahead when my plans will inevitably change.

15.40 So here’s the plan I currently have that I definitely won’t stick to: at the start of each week, I’ll determine which project I work on (operating Monday-Sunday; if you think the week starts any day but Monday, you’re wrong, and I’m not sorry), and only work on that project throughout the week. So I’ll work on Bay Tree this week, and FSB next week.

I’m going to let myself work on a project for more than one week at a time, but I think I’m going to say I can only work on one for three consecutive weeks before I have to switch to the other. This seems like a good way to stay excited. Yes.

This second? Not completely sure. Might just go read and deal with it tomorrow.

Mon 05/04/2021 - ‘Bay Tree’ 11.37 Actually really glad I just sat down and read--I read about 200 pages yesterday in total, which meant I could easily finish the last 100 pages this morning. So I finished Starsight (the recent reads post will probably be up by the time this one is)--was anyone aware the A Court of Silver Flames paperback is £24 on Amazon? Anyone?

Anyway, we’re returning to Bay Tree today, after nearly two weeks (I know that’s not even long), and I’m going to attempt to implement my edits, by which I mean I’m going to put scene changes at the bottom in brackets, then technically implement them when I redraft.

Tue 06/04/2021 - ‘Bay Tree’ 09.11 I didn’t exactly accomplish much yesterday. I spent a good few hours just watching YouTube, because I didn’t have any motivation to do work, which screwed up my schedule, and I did no writing aside from transferring my list of edits from my phone to my document. I started reading Call Down the Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater, but didn’t get very far in--I’m obsessed with Stiefvater’s writing style; it’s the perfect mix between typical prose and fairytale-style storytelling. Anyway.

I’m going to switch to a new Scrivener project for the sake of cleaning it up--Bay Tree is a hot mess right now--and hopefully begin to implement my edits--maybe not today, but certainly this week.

Thu 08/04/2021 - ‘Bay Tree’ 16.53 So I haven’t yet had a day where I’ve done nothing (since my break finished), but the last couple days I’ve just been doing tiny amounts of what I’m calling ‘reference pruning’, where I’m just editing and clarifying character, worldbuilding and location documents. I’ve ‘pruned’ five character references, and I hate it. It needs to be done, but it doesn’t need to be done now. I’ve decided I’m just going to completely clear out the new Scrivener project I started for Bay Tree, and add stuff to it as it becomes necessary. I’m going to make notes of overarching edits (stuff I can’t just note at the bottom of a scene), and just get started with draft 1.7, adding and editing references as it becomes necessary. I’m also going to say I just need to spend an hour writing a day, rather than a word minimum.

Okay. Edits established. Things to bear in mind established. I need to go through the character profile for the POV character in chapter one, then we can get started. Or rather, I’ll get started tomorrow, because I need to go cook soon, and even if I do have time after dinner, I’m not going to, because I’m going to read then. Okay. Character.

I’m getting excited again!

Oh, and the setting. I need to do the setting document.

I’d like to draw attention tot he fact one of my character documents describes her as having ‘black upturned gold eyes.’ 

Clearly I couldn’t pick a colour, but now I’m inspired to give her heterochromia.

Character done, and setting undone, but I need to go cook now, so I’ll pick this back up tomorrow, when I may also do some actual work.

I just hope these posts give someone security in that writing is a messy process, and you don’t have to be perfect all the time to be a) competent, and b) a writer. I’m a competent writer, and I’ve only ever written about 60% of a draft. But I’m still going, still trying, and that’s the point.

Fri 09/04/2021 - ‘Bay Tree’: 484 words 09.15 Okay. So we’re redrafting, and this is like my fourth draft of the first chapter, so let’s just go.

Sun 11/04/2021 - ‘Bay Tree’: 576 words 09.01 Yeah, I missed yesterday. Ironically, having time off seems to be making productivity more difficult, despite the fact I actually have time for it. 

09.19 I feel like this project is making me stagnate. I think what I have is almost subconsciously tying me down, preventing me from improving, but I don’t want to just restart, because I want my bases, and it’s so ingrained in my head, I can’t physically start from scratch. Crap.

I think it needs to sit for longer. Crap.

It’s alright. I mean, it sucks, but it’s alright. It’s not like there’s any ideal age to become an author anyway, and I’m a long way off the average. I have time, and if it takes shelving projects now to complete better ones later, so be it. Maybe I’ll return to Bay Tree in a few weeks, or a few months, or a few years, or never, but I’ve learnt a lot from it.

So we move on.

Mon 12/04/2021 - FSB 08.05 This post is such a mess. I’m a mess at the moment. Today, we’re just continuing to work on FSB’s plot, and I think I’m already going to change the name of the character whose initials are FSB, so its nickname will probably change, too.

I had a trilogy in mind, but looking at it now, I think a duology will be best to convey the arc I have in mind.

21.51 I’ve actually accomplished quite a lot today--I’ve mostly been doing character profiles, but that helps me form tidbits to add to the story, which I can eventually string together. We’re progressing.

Tue 13/04/2021 - FSB 08.37 Hello! I think I can safely come to the conclusion I prefer development to actual drafting. Anyway, today I’m going to focus on completing the character profile for my other protagonist and do a little more work on another important figure. Then, I hope to be able to figure out the drive of the main plot in book one.

On another note, I am debating whether to plan out two books or three. Mulling it over, I think three books would give a more fulfilling arc, but it depends if I can work out enough content for the main plot. We’ll see.

Yeah, it’s going to be three. Two just can’t carry the impact I want.

20.00 I made pretty good progress today, but I just wanted to make the point I’m a lot more confident this project will hold my interest for longer than Bay Tree. This was something ruminating in the back of my mind for weeks, that I was desperate to write, where Bay Tree was very much a ‘sit down, make something up’ process at the beginning. Anyway, I think I’m done writing for the day, and I’ll get back to this tomorrow. (Because unlike most writers, I have a functional sleep schedule)

Wed 14/04/2021 09.19 Honestly, my head is empty right now, so I really need to open my project before determining what I want to do today.

Okay, so we’re basically just going to continue filling in holes.

14.50 Working out the plot, I’m pretty confident I’ve got the A plot covered, which the B plot will fit into, but I need more subplots.

Thu 15/04/2021 10.12 I want to work this one out mostly on the fly. I have nearly the whole of book one plotted out, but I want to work out the fine details as I write it; as I go, I’ll add more detail to my outlines of two and three. But for now, book one.

15.28 I’ve got basically the whole of book one covered; there’s just a gaping hole in act one, that I’m not sure I can fill. I mean, I can fill it, and I will, but I don’t feel like it’ll be that intentional of a thing. I think it’ll be more of an accidental idea that happens to flourish, but I’m going to keep working nonetheless.

Fri 16/04/2021 14.08 Good afternoon! I would’ve started writing earlier, but I wanted to catch up on the reading I didn’t do yesterday to make sure I finish A Court of Silver Flames within a week, so I can return the ebook and get a refund, because, despite being £6 cheaper than the paperback, it still cost me £8, and I want my money back. (Seriously, the paperback is fourteen pounds on amazon. Which is nearly twenty dollars. Which is pretty standard for a hardback, but it’s the paperback.) I’m about ten pages off meeting my minimum for the day (though I need to surpass that if I do want to finish it within a week), but it’s writing time.

14.37 I’m still establishing how, exactly, it applies, but I think I’ve solved it!

Definitely happy that as I’m planning, all I want is to make the characters happy, because I already love them so much. But they don’t get to be.

I have a section on a Pinterest board that’s just called ‘Simping’, and is just pictures of couples doing cute as shit things, and I literally just want my characters to dance together. Always. In Bay Tree, in FSB. Just dancing.

15.04 I have book one covered. It still needs development, scene development, but I can now move on to outlining book two, during which I’ll continue to develop one, integrate themes and such. 

Honestly, the plot falling into place is absolutely the most exciting part of writing. I get an adrenaline rush (yes, while sitting in a chair, typing), I start to love the characters, the world, the story... ahhhh.

I’m actually really satisfied with how the plot seems to be going.

16.44 The word ambiguous has too many Us in it. Three vowels in a row??? And the vowel sequence is a palindrome?? Don’t want it. 

I’m just sat here discovering new music. And it’s all so good and so dramatic and so perfect.

Okay, why do I have to come up with ideas so easily when I don’t need them? Then when I do I have nothing?

17.51 And just to clarify now, this post will actually end with Sunday the 18th, because after that I’m going to take three weeks completely off writing (aside from noting ideas), because I have a lot going on, then I’ll return on May 10th.

Note to self: develop a character who isn’t one of your two protagonists.

Sat 17/04/2021 10.23 I’m thinking I ought to do a more in-depth outline of book one before doing the basis of book two. Help me set up subplots and so on. Yanno, because other characters need some kind of agency, and I currently basically have two characters.

Sun 18/04/2021  08.52 I managed to plot out Bay Tree so fast because I’d already done so much development--plot was the only thing I was still missing. Anyway, I’m having a minor crisis. I think I’m a plotter, but I’m not entirely certain. It clearly didn’t work for Bay Tree. I think I may just start a draft of FSB now, and hope that lets me work out the other two books as I go.

In one of my excessive plans I will probably fail to stick to: I think I’d like to write a draft of the whole trilogy, all the way through, before even editing book one. I’ll obviously make notes of edits as I go, write as if I’ve already made them, eg. if, while writing book two, I have an idea for a book one edit, I’ll write book two as if I’ve already implemented it, which means I’ll have a little less editing to do of book two.

I have this all planned out in my head, but I’m probably being overambitious. We’re staying optimistic, though. I don’t believe in manifesting, but we’re manifesting.

14.23 I want to say I tried. I got a few details for the first couple chapters, but when I opened a doc to actually write it... nope. I need an outline to have a starting point. I just need detail.

Scene blocking sucks. But then I can’t write without it, so what can you do?

And I guess that wraps up this update. Writing this section, I’m about halfway through the writing break, and I have so many more ideas for this project. I was excited for Bay Tree because it was the first time I really made progress, but I’m excited for this one because I genuinely love this story. This post is going up May 14th, at which point I’ll be back to writing, and the next update should come mid to early June. 

And that’s a wrap.

#blog #blogging #blogger #blogpost #blog post #writing #books #book #reading #reader #readerblr #bookblr #writer #write #writes #writerblr #author #authorblr #draft #first draft #story #stories #novel #outline #outlining #writing blog #debut #debut novel #debut writer #novel draft

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #332

i’m even more tired than before to try and think up song lyrics, i’m pasting from Word and then fucking off to bed lmao.

What was the last video message you received on your phone? I think it was a clip of Doris (Sara's beardie) eating and just being her perfect self? Was your last birthday cake homemade or store bought? Store-bought. One thing you miss about middle school? Shit, nothing. Middle school was the worst. Do you have any shirts signed by famous people? No. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. Would you ever pierce yourself? No. I am very much about having a professional do your body mods/art. Plus, I have tremors in my hands. Do you live in a safe neighbourhood? Supposedly. We haven't lived here nearly long enough to know. What is the last thing you did that shocked someone? /shrug Do you often find yourself questioning your future? Only always. Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? Yeah. Do you like your license photo? I hate my permit picture. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favorite? Not very, but I like 'em enough. I always say my favorite is Deadpool, but I know he's technically an anti-hero, but whatever. If you don't include him, uhhhh... maybe Spiderman. Have you started watching any new TV shows recently? No. Have you ever been able pet a normally wild animal, like a tiger or dolphin? No. :( At least, not to my recollection. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. There's actually a winter treat 'round here that you make with snow and sugar called snow cream. Good stuff. What is the messiest area in your home? Right now, the spare room/my wanna-be "office." What’s your favorite computer game genre? Still horror, like video games. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you received financial help from your parents in the past 5 years? I'm completely financially dependent on them still. Are you a fast or a slow eater? I eat like, stupid fast, but without being messy. People *cough*Mom*cough* will absolutely point it out, but I seriously can't help it. Making a conscious effort to eat slow feels way too weird. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? No. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? Ew, no. Tell me what's on your mind? I've been considering yet again reaching out to some tattoo parlors and asking if they're open to hiring someone to handle the front desk and take care of business besides actually performing piercing and tattooing, given my tremors. My group therapy has kinda been encouraging me to use the possibility for social exposure, and besides, I'm very comfortable in the environment and just general aura of tat parlors. I'm sure I'd have to answer the phone, handle money, and obviously talk to costumers, but I know and accept that. I've been at such a stagnant point with my social anxiety in particular that I have to start pushing back harder, and doing this I feel would be one of the most relaxed, social job positions I can hopefully handle. I don't dare to even try this though until I get vaccinated to protect my immunocompromised mom. Writing this all out has actually been pretty encouraging about this idea... Do you wish you never dated someone you dated? Yeah, Tyler. It was such a "I'm lonely and he was nice in high school, so we'll try it" situation. I got nothing from it. Are you scared of growing old alone? Pretty badly. What are you listening to right now? I'm listening to/semi-watching John Wolfe play the remaster of Resident Evil 2. What breed was the last dog you saw? He was a German shepherd. Would you ever go swimming during a thunderstorm? No. Any time a thunderstorm was brewing and I was in the pool, I'd always get out. What is the next concert you will attend? Mom and I plan to see Ozzy when/if he reschedules his tour after he had to cancel with his Parkinson's diagnosis. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :/ What's the highest science class you have taken? I don't know, actually. What makes you squeal like a school girl? No shame, seeing Mark and Amy do something cute together actually does this, lmao. What’s your favorite symbol? (i.e. the pentagram, the cross, etc.) Do fictional ones count? Because in that case, the Halo of the Sun from the Silent Hill franchise. I'm getting it tattooed somewhere at some point, I'm thinking the left side of my neck. I'm either gonna fashion it in a way where it looks branded on or carved into me. Have you ever been on anti depressants? For all of my pre-teen, teen, and some of my adult life. Apparently, I've only had one truly educated psychiatrist out of no less than a dozen I'd seen, because he fixed me right up. He taught me that those who suffer from bipolarity should avoid anti-depressants; they ramp up your bipolar symptoms. Instead, mood stabilizers are favorable. And what do you know, after I was prescribed a stabilizer and a catalyst for that medication, my depression decreased dramatically and became handleable. Have you ever starved yourself? Kinda. What’s the stupidest name you’ve ever given a pet? I had a guinea pig named Harry Potter. For no particular reason lmao. I'm not even a Harry Potter fan. Do you have nice legs? God no. Do you like fedoras? Okay so I know I am in the strong minority, but I actually do, haha. What is your favorite food group? Carbs. @_@ Have you ever got told that you should be a model? No, but one of the most flattering indirect compliments I've ever gotten was being mistaken for one. Jason's phone wallpaper was one of my favorite pictures of myself with my first snake, and someone asked him if I was a model. ;v;' What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? "Donaukinder" by Rammstein is one of my faves. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? SOBS Darkiplier bc his origins are so damn tragic and unfair. What book do you think should be directed as a film? Was The Giver ever made into one? I don't remember that book well, but I do recall it being absolutely beautiful. Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? Yeah. I have thousands on the Silent Hill wiki, where I'm one of the admins. I'm also a content moderator at the Team Ico (Shadow of the Colossus devs) one. Every now and again I used to go on the meerkats wiki as well, where I mainly fixed the fucking nightmarish grammar. Very briefly, I edited at the Dragons of Atlantis wiki as well. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? Not very, but of course I still acknowledge the risk and am more conscious of hand washing and stuff. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, I don't actually use my Twitter, I don't have a personal Instagram... There may be more, idk. Is TikTok a "social media platform?" Because I don't have that, either. What was the name of the first porcelien doll you got? Never had one, given I was afraid of dolls as a kid. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "Decode." Would you be happy with a life without romance? To be entirely honest, I'd feel like I was missing something. Was your childhood happy? Mostly. What fundamentally matters do you? Love, kindness, peace, all that gooey stuff. Is true world peace ever possible? As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think so. The human population is far too big to come to a unanimous agreement on anything. Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? Yeah. Would you ever own a pet black widow spider? No. I'm getting more into the idea of owning invertebrates (I jabber enough about wanting tarantulas, and there are others, like mantises, I'm interested in as pets), but black widows, I'm not into the idea of having. Too venomous for me to be comfortable risking. If you have a job, what is the longest shift that you've worked? N/A Do you know all of the words to "Bohemian Rhapsody?" FUCK YES I DO. ^ Do you sing it with all of the different voices? sho nuff Do you own more than one copy of a certain book? No. Do you like interpreting poetry or just reading it for fun? Both. I love symbolism, so I get joy out of digging for subtle meanings in poems. Do you have a favorite Dr. Suess book? Yeah, it was always Green Eggs and Ham. Do you watch The Walking Dead? If so, favorite character? Not the show, but I've watched let's plays of the games, haha. In which case Clementine is inarguably one of the best female characters in a video game universe. Who has/had the most mature romantic relationship you’ve seen with your own eyes? Uhhh. I mean I never saw them much, but probably my late grandmother and her last husband. He was fucking incredible to her, and Grammy adored him as well. They helped each other so much and just obviously had the purest love between them. When was the last time you got something for free (legally)? What was it & have you enjoyed it so far? Lmao do balls in Pokemon GO count? Their occasional free boxes are the reason I can play the game because PokeStops are essentially non-existent here, so yes. What is the one fruit you can’t stand to eat? How about vegetable? The first one that came to me were oranges. I enjoy orange juice, but I just caaaaannot with the white veiny shit that you can't totally get off when peeling it. Without that, I might actually enjoy them, but idk. As for vegetable, asparagus is absolutely abhorrent. When’s the last time you actually recited the pledge? If you aren’t American, do/did you have anything similar in your country that you do during a time at school? Probably not since high school. Last person you shared food with? Ummm I have no idea. It's really just Mom and me here and we eat our own stuff. What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I believe it waaas... "Down In The Park" by Marilyn Manson, maybe. If your life was a TV show, what would be the theme song? My inner high school emo just screamed "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by AD2R. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Gahdamn, there's a lot. I don't feel like going through a mental list in my head and then describing why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? Vol'jin; I think the entire WoW fanbase will forever be pissed about it. It was THE most "lul we dunno what 2 do w/ him anymore, let's let a totally random, unnamed, unimportant demon kill him" like what the fuck, Blizz. Most of his "oomph" was in the book, and I just really wish they'd done so much more with him in the game. Has anything “cute” happened in the past week? Off the top of me noggin, no. When did you last say “I love you”? Did you mean it? Yesterday to Sara. OF course I did. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times? Hi, PTSD, how are ya. Have you ever slept all day? Essentially. When I was on a larger dose of my anxiety med, I physically couldn't stay up for barely even five minutes, and when I'd lie back down, boom, I was OUT. I stayed on that dosage for I think just that one day, it was so bad. Can you have kids? Well, I have a functioning menstrual cycle, so I would assume so. Doesn't mean I will, though. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Only black. Do you like eating sour things? Hell yeah, I love sour stuff, candy in particular. Do you like pickles? fuuuuck yeah Did you ever have a really close friend move away? Yeah, in elementary school. I feel bad I can't remember her name at the moment... What's the most creative thing you've ever done? I mean, I guess the things I've written in RP. What's the most creative thing someone has done for you? For me? I don't really know. Do you like to watch ghost-hunting shows? Sure, they're some of my favorites. What’s something you’d like to be better at? Social interaction. Have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? Yeah. Do you think you would make a good parent? No. I know I wouldn't. The only time I ever wanted kids was with Jason, and honestly, I really hope I don't end up with a man because I never want to deal with that urge again and make a mistake. I'm just in no way emotionally fit to be a mother. How many best friends do you have? Just one. What do you cry over the most? My PTSD, honestly. I never sob about it anymore, just shed some tears. What language did/do you take in high school? Latin for one semester, then all four available for German. Which sports do you follow? None. Who was the last person you talked about marriage or having kids with? About marriage, Sara. Kids, the subject was lightly touched upon with Girt, though "with" was never a part of it, but obviously implied seeing as we were dating with long-term in mind. Have you ever been in a house fire? No, thankfully. Have you ever made out for one straight hour? them is rookie numbers Are you any good at remembering phone numbers? No. I literally don't even know my own, nor my mother's. I need to fix that. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt. Do you have a bookshelf? If so, just one or how many? No. If I gave you twenty bucks what would you do with it? Save it to go towards Venus' terrarium. Is there a movie from your childhood that you still watch today? Well of course! I'm unashamed to watch any "kids" movie I enjoy, like Disney ones. Most "kids" movies tend to be better than those intended for adults, it seems... Are you afraid of mice? Oh no, I adore mice and I think had a pair as pets before I got rats. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I can't really answer this; I haven't gone on nearly enough vacations to develop a theme. I can say confidently though it'd probably be something small. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't enjoy musicals. Have you ever watched Doctor Who? One or two with Sara, yes. I know we at least watched the weeping angels episode. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? Warriors by S.E. Hinton. Sometimes I wanna get back into them, but I am YEARS behind and more into Wings of Fire anyway, so. I don't read nearly enough for both. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Literally no trick seems to work for me. I just suffer lmao.

#survey #surveys #questions

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 21

Read along on AO3 Here

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This time:  Admiral Ar'alani watches. Ezra worries. Vah'nya recalls a memory.

Next time: Ezra demands answers from Eli. 

-/

The first time Admiral Ar’alani came face to face with the man known as Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto of the Galactic Empire, she was unimpressed. This was the man that Mitth’raw’nuruodo had identified as being useful to the Ascendancy?

The human had looked like a child to her, bright eyed and barely out of his second decade.

It had not been easy for him, either. Acclimation had taken time and effort. He had not been given any special treatment or leeway. His name had been recognized, his rank adjusted with some consideration for the length of his military service, and he had been dropped into his new environment without delay. She had not been kind to him. Nor had she instructed her crew to be. Whatever he was given would be earned on his own merit.

Mitth’raw’nuruodo had seen something in him, and likewise, Ar’alani wished to see it. Naturally. He would either prove his worth, or he would not. If he did, it was in the Ascendancy’s interest. If he did not, she wouldn’t hesitate to deal with him swiftly in any way she felt appropriate.

He had difficulty waiting. A temper - usually well hidden, save for the warmth of his face - lingered beneath the surface. He’d learned to rein it in over the time since she’d gotten to know him, yet she knew old habits die hard and no one, not even a Chiss, was without flaws.

His transition from Eli’van’to to Ivant was something of an anomaly. She’d known what she was giving up, and she’d been willing to sacrifice him for someone she felt was of greater importance to the Ascendancy. The human understood her reasoning, and with the revelation of Vah’nya’s visions about what possibilities awaited them if they did not intervene, they agreed it was far better to lead the Grysks away. Mitth’raw’nuruodo had valuable secrets about the Chiss and the Empire. Eli’van’to’s work had not bore fruit. Whatever the Grysks inevitably got from him would be of little value. And, though it was more important to Ivant than it had been to Ar'alani, he would hopefully be able to save the lives of his former comrades.

She had never promised him rescue. He had never asked for it, either. He’d gone into it knowing that best case looked like finding a way to take his own life. She appreciated his bravery.

And then, Vah’nya happened.

Sweet, concerned, protective Vah’nya who stowed herself away on his transport, who abandoned her post aboard the Steadfast with only a scribbled note. Vah’nya, a true miracle of the Ascendancy, the oldest Navigator in centuries, and the crown jewel of Ar'alani's fleet.

How she had cursed the girl, Ar'alani remembered, fear and fury, having burned bright in her loins for months. She could not deviate from their course. Such a specimen would warrant research and hopefully guarantee her survival amongst the Grysks, and it was the only comfort she had, though she knew the Grysks would tear her apart from the inside out. She did not prepare herself for a happy ending.

And then, when they survived - when they escaped, together and on their own - it was too much to hope for. Too good to be true. She’d dispatched watchers, ensured that Thrawn was, in fact, making his way home and away from the wrecked hull of his once glorious Star Destroyer, and jumped to intercept.

She was not sure what she had been expecting to find, but what she had defied all logic and sense.

It was very much the same now. She watched as Un’hee bowed her head almost to the pristine white sheets beside a dying Thrawn and pressed her hands gently against his wounds, entering a sort of trance.

Before, Vah’nya hadn’t been unaware, vulnerable and in trance like Un’hee was now. She’d been clutching tightly to Ivant, cradling him to her chest as if she was all that was holding him together. Perhaps, Ar’alani thought, considering that moment and all she had come to know since, perhaps she had. Van'nya had refused to be parted from him because she said she was needed, to the point of restraints and sedation.

It had been the only thing the recovered Navigator had been willing to say in those first few days. It had taken Vah’nya weeks to open up to Ar'alani once more, to tell her admiral what had led to abandon her duties and offer herself up to the Grysks, a blatant violation of all she'd stood for before. When she had, Ar’alani believed her to be crazy. Her treasured, precious Navigator manipulated and broken, her mind shattered and fragmented by their vile manipulation and advances.

But Ar’alani hadn’t known what Vah’nya was doing when she’d found them in the husk of that hijacked Grysk ship. She hadn’t known until much later, when Vah’nya had taken her aside, and, to prove her very much in-tact sanity, had shown her. She was to light the way for her sisters, she’d told Ar’alani. She would be the first. And she had, in confidence, revealed why: Eli'van'to, an inferior, but tolerated human, a man who had meant to be a sacrificial lamb when he'd failed at being a tool, had reminded her of what it truly meant to be a Chiss warrior.

There was a shudder, a start from the bedridden Chiss. Un’hee’s eyelashes fluttered, then went still again as she continued focusing. Ivant stood at Ar’alani’s shoulder.

“He’s breathing on his own,” Ivant said softly. His words were more relieved than clinical. “See it?”

Ar’alani shook her head in disbelief. It was true. Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s chest rose and fell evenly, synced to Un’hee’s own breathing. “And now,” She whispered, a touch of awe coloring her tone, “There are two.” More seriously, she added, “Just how much will our people owe you, I wonder.”

The human shook his head. “They don’t owe me anything.” He motioned to Un’hee. “This is all her.” He looked down at Ar’alani, his brown eyes hard and haunted. “There is no formula to make this happen, Admiral.”

“And yet you are the common denominator.”

“I’m hardly anything important, Admiral.” He said. “I might appear to be the catalyst, but all I’m doing is simply giving them the tools.”

Ar’alani hummed, looking back at Thrawn. His pain seemed eased far more naturally now. “Perhaps.”

“There are limits to what their abilities can do,” He said. “She may heal his wounds, but she cannot counteract the rest of the poison’s metabolic effects. He will need to be monitored.”

“We are sailing for Csilla,” She said. “Senior Captain Khresh is taking over command of the Compass.” Her eyes flared brightly. “I will not allow the Grysks to destroy us from within,” She said. “Once Mitth'raw'nuruodo is recovered, we must figure out everything he knows. I have no doubt he can confirm his assailant, but we must find out what other patterns he can see.”

“We can’t afford to keep him in the dark, Admiral.”

“The project must stay a secret,” She insisted harshly. “I realize it is not ideal, but it must be done.”

“Even now?”

“We can tell him about everything else-” She tried to compromise, but Ivant interrupted.

“Ma’am, with all due respect-”

“You must listen to me, Eli’van’to.” She stole a glance at Un'hee, and relaxed slightly when the girl had not heard her sharper tone. “We are compromised. Our enemies have infiltrated our ranks. He will be in even more danger now than he was before once we make this known.”

“And we’re making this known?”

“Yes.” Ar’alani’s face was stiff, her shoulders tense. “We must make it known. You killed a man, Ivant. On the bridge, no less. Some will call for your demotion. Others, your life.”

Ivant tipped his head back and looked up at the ceiling. He had made the call without fully thinking it through. He’d done what he had to, to protect his crew. “There was more poison,” He said. “Commander Wes’lash’andi was a threat-”

“I am not doubting you, nor am I opposing your methods,” Ar’alani said tersely. “A kill shot was the only thing that would have stopped him from harming anyone else, including a Navigator. If the Grysks have truly infiltrated our ranks as we believe ,” She reasoned, “No one is truly safe anymore.”

-/

Ezra drummed on the arm of his chair, trying to make sense of it all. Or at least, that's what he knew he should have been doing: it was what Admiral Ar'alani had told him to do when she left him here, in her office. He didn't know what to think, other than that he wanted to talk to Un'hee, who seemed to know what was going on, but she had asked to accompany Ivant and the Admiral for questioning.

And no one would let them see Thrawn. Thrawn, who, Un'hee had led him to believe was dying. The poison was called "Blue Death" for Force's sake. Nobody had said anything about antidotes or how to fix it, they only spoke of keeping him comfortable. Ezra knew Thrawn would hate that. If Thrawn were dying, he'd want to go out fighting. It seemed to do him a disservice to let him slip away easily.

He fixed a glance at the Admiral's memory wall. Apparently this was a very Chiss statement, and could be found on most command ships. The commander would have a wall representative of their personal triumphs and goals, and it would be used like a focus, to remind the Commander of what drove them in moments when they felt they'd lost their way.

Ezra found it to be too personal. It wasn't just pictures or medals, wasn't just military accolades. He felt like he was able to see her entire life here, on this wall, and he felt like he was intruding. Though, it did make him curious. Ivant didn't have a memory wall, and he'd been in Thrawn's office aboard the Chimaera. He collected artwork, but nothing like this. All of Thrawn's pieces meant something to him, but they were not as blatantly understandable as this overt telling of Ar'alani's life that stretched out before him. If an enemy saw this…

"If an enemy saw this, the Admiral would already be dead," Vah'nya said from behind him. Ezra jumped. He hadn't noticed her coming in, nor had he realized that he'd spoken the last bit aloud. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Ezra insisted, standing. "How's Thrawn? Have you heard anything?"

"They are working on him now," She said. "The Admiral and Ivant are watching over him."

"Yeah, because that clearly helped him earlier, right?" Ezra winced as the words left his mouth, but straightened up anyway. He had meant them. They might not be entirely fair, but he meant them.

Vah’nya swallowed hard, “I understand,” She said slowly. “I do not want Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo to die.” Her lips pulled to the right when she pursed them. She eyed the memory wall, then let her gaze trail over Ezra. “Did he ever tell you about the time he let me order the Chimaera to fire upon the Grysks?”

“The Chimaera?” Ezra’s brows pulled together as the confusion fell over him. “Really?” His words were darkened by disbelief. It was enough to distract him momentarily. “And the Empire just let you-”

“He inspires loyalty in those who serve with him. He has yours, after all,” Vah’nya reminded Ezra, speaking over him until she regained his attention. “And you were bitter enemies. You nearly killed him.”

Ezra’s shoulders slumped. “No,” He finally said. “He didn’t tell me.”

“I wished for a memory for Un’hee,” She said, her voice and gaze making her look far away. “I was afraid, but more than that, I wanted to be able to give something to Un’hee, who’d spent so long in servitude to the Grysks. I wanted her to know that we could defeat them. I wanted to know that we could defeat them.” She blinked back to herself, turning her head to Ezra. “He gave me more than that. He gave me - and through me, Un’hee as well - the opportunity to participate. The Admiral was displeased. Thrawn seemed to constantly step on her toes, but it was his ship, and he is…” She smiled sadly. “He is a complicated man. But I believe he is good.”

When Vah’nya nudged Ezra’s shoulders, he hummed something in the affirmative. “Do you think he��ll be okay?”

“Well,” She began, “Un’hee identified the poison immediately. If she hadn’t been through what she had, we wouldn’t know what it was.”

“But we don’t have an antidote. And the damage, they said-”

Vah’nya linked their fingers. “I choose to believe, Ezra,” She said, as cool and calm, as serene in the Force as he’d ever felt her. She squeezed their combined hands. “Will you?”

-/

Ar’alani had retrieved them both hours later, finding them both in the middle of her office. Kneeling on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, they had been deep in meditation when she’d arrived. By then, Ezra had gotten his tumultuous emotions under control, though Vah’nya didn’t stray from his side, citing that he needed a friend in this.

“He will live,” Ar’alani said.

Exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Ezra nodded, trying to hold himself in some semblance of professionalism. “Thank you, Admiral.”

“Do not thank me,” She snapped, then relented immediately, her voice going smooth in an attempt to be soothing. It was weird coming from such a high-ranking Chiss officer. “We were able to synthesize an antidote. He will be sick until the chemicals are purged from his system, but his life is no longer in danger.” She inclined her head. “It was also to our benefit that his assailant was not able to administer a full dose.”

“And the damage to his lungs?” Ezra questioned. “Un’hee had said-”

“There was damage, but the medics are confident they will be able to reverse it.” She cast a look at Vah’nya, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly before gesturing to the door. “I believe you wished to see him, did you not?”

“Oh! Yes, Admiral,” Ezra snapped to attention immediately.

The Admiral’s voice grew cautious, “Be on your guard, Jedi. This danger may have passed, but I do not doubt there will be others. Until he is fully recovered, you will need to act as his eyes and ears.” She fixed him with her intense gaze. “Even if he does not believe so himself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ezra said. His lips were drawn in a firm, determined line. “I understand.”

“Good.” She sounded satisfied enough. “You will not be alone. There are others,” She looked to Vah’nya, “Who will be assisting you.”

“You’ve contacted her?” The Navigator questioned.

“Yes,” Admiral Ar’alani confirmed. “She will be joining us en route to our destination.” Ar’alani took a brief pause, dropping into her reflection chair heavily, with the airs of someone who was, surprisingly enough, exhausted. Ezra tried not to act too surprised, though he’d never seen her show something so close to weakness. “We need allies we can trust.” She met Ezra’s eyes one final time. “I ask that you not allow your personal feelings to cloud your judgement.”

Ezra sighed. “Let me guess: She’s Imperial, isn’t she?”

“She was,” Vah’nya corrected. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “But remember what I said about loyalty.”

#thranto #eli vanto #un'hee #ar'alani #mitth'raw'nuruodo #eli vanto/thrawn #vah'nya #ezra bridger #my writing #sw fanfiction

[crystal-rebellion]

Probably the most irritating part in Voltron season 8 (and in season 7) was how useless Romelle was, like seriously why does this character even exist she doesn’t contribute in any way and only seems to make things worse I think they should have made Romelle a plot twist villain, it would have made her character a LOT more interesting and less like she’s just taking up space

So, I’m really excited you bring Romelle up, because I have quite a bit to say about her! Hopefully you don’t regret inciting another one of Crystal’s TedTalks.  To save everyone’s feed, I’m going to throw it under the cut.

I 100% agree with you - I think her as a character as we saw her presented in S8 (and S7), was flat and unevolved.  She wasn’t a bad character necessarily, but she certainly wasn’t a good one - in the sense she had little growth and character development, and was used as a plot device catalyst to the reveal of Lotor’s colony secret.

I don’t think that was her intended character arc, but to talk about Romelle in Legendary Defender, I need to bring some evidence up from Defender of the Universe.

So far, every character in VLD that has taken a legacy name has echoed the character they were built from.  Coran, Keith, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura, Lotor, Zarkon, Haggar to name the main ones.  Romelle, too, is a legacy character, and we don’t really see much of her old character in the new one, which I find odd (and indicative of last minute re-writes, courtesy WEP, but that’s a different rant for a different time.).

Romelle’s story starts with Coran telling a tale of Arus(Altea)’s evil twin sister planet, Pollux.  The legend goes that many generations ago, the king of Arus had two sons.  One was “good” and one was “evil” and the evil one was banished to an outlying planet to rule there instead.  (DotU’s trope of blatant good vs. evil was not an uncommon theme in the 80s, to be fair.)  Planet Pollux with its ingrained hatred for Arus for exiling them, takes up allegiance with the Drule(Galra) Empire, and serves King Zarkon willingly.

When we first meet Romelle, she’s with her brothers and father visiting Planet Doom  as her eldest brother Avok is begging both King Zarkon and Prince Lotor to turn him into a robeast.  Pollux wishes to attack and defeat Arus and Voltron, and reclaim the planet as theirs.  Both Zarkon ad Lotor show doubts, commenting about how could a human be strong enough. With insistence, Lotor agrees to test Avok in the gladiator ring to see if he truly is strong enough to be worthy of becoming a robeast.

In short, Lotor loses because Romelle appears on the sidelines to cheer her brother on, and the prince is shocked by how much she resembles Allura.  In his stupor, Avok is able to defeat him an so Lotor agrees finally that Avok can become a robeast.  Both Romelle and Bandor are thrilled by this and are excited to defeat Voltron once and for all.  Lotor immediately introduces himself to Romelle and offers to show her around.

In the meantime, the Voltron Force has gotten wind of Pollux’s plot and they decide to go to them and try and negotiate peace.  Lotor and Romelle’s family have returned to Pollux, and by chance, Romelle and Allura cross paths and are shocked at how much they see in each other.  Allura tries to appeal to Romelle to end their wars, but she’s uncertain how it would all work, while Bandor advocates hostility.  The Voltron Force is discovered by Drule guards and they flee back to their ships.  The Avok-Robeast is dispatched, and Voltron makes quick work of it.

Things get interesting for the Polluxians - Romelle is very upset that her brother is dead, and promptly begins cursing Lotor’s name, crying out that he murdered her brother, that he’s a vile, wretched man and an evil villain.  (The same Lotor, by the way, who had doubts on if Avok would be strong enough to defeat Voltron and initially advocated against the conversion.)

Romelle ends up taken hostage as a prisoner of war, since she was an ally that defected to an invading enemy (Voltron.  Voltron invaded Pollux.).  Once liberated from Lotor, Romelle just cannot stop talking about how Lotor betrayed them, murdered her brother, etc.  She never once mentioned that she had willingly planned to overthrow Arus, kill Allura (well, the leader - she didn’t know it was Allura specifically), conquer the planet, and that Avok begged and pleaded with Lotor to become a robeast so he could be the one to do so.

And that brings us back to Legendary Defender’s Romelle.

She started off in the same vein as her legacy counterpart - aligned with Lotor on the colony.  When things did not go as planned for her brother - for a choice that Bandor willingly made, she quickly turned on him.  Whether or not she did so maliciously or because she truly did not have all the evidence as she, herself admitted, we definitely see threads of DotU’s Romelle at this stage.

When season 7 aired and we began to see hints of the storyline being altered, her personality fell flat.  She showed no development and just seemed to be a cardboard cutout background character.  When the disaster that was S8, she wasn’t really even present in any capacity.

I believe she was intended to have one of two different arcs:

Redemption - her arc would be designed to mirror Lance’s.  Romelle would begin to put the pieces together with the colony, find out Lotor’s true motives (with the rest of us) and what was going on there, and realize she was wrong all along.  This would run alongside Lance realizing how much Lotor matters to Allura, how he isn’t that person for her.  They would both realize, one either catalysing the other, or at the same time, that they needed to get Lotor back, and would push for that.

Villainess - A darker arc to be sure, but Romelle could end up being intentionally devious in  way to unseat Lotor from the Empire’s throne.  Why?  Working in alignment with Honerva, hard to say.  We see some clues for this, such as when she’s in Red Lion with Lance, she’s extremely interested in how it works, and already seems to have a grasp of some of the controls.

With the way Season 8 was cut apart and restructured at the last minute, her arc was cut away with it.  I do believe she intended to have more of a presence in the finale, and be instrumental to the resolution - either by righting her wrongs or being on some level the one orchestrating it.

There is one other character from legacy that made an appearance that didn’t get her character’s backstory, and that was Merla.  There’s less evidence to draw from as her screentime in VLD was so short, but in DotU, Merla is a curious character.

She is Drule in origin, and starts off aligned with Zarkon, Lotor and Haggar and is hellbent on conquering Arus, and even has the ability to manipulate and influence people with telepathy - on more than one occasion she bends both Lotor and Zarkon to her with this method.  Toward the end of the series, she has a change of heart and when Zarkon sentences Lotor to death for his failure and incompetence, Merla is the one who rushes to the Voltron Force.  She begs them to help her help him - she doesn’t know who else to go to.  With some convincing, the Volton Force agrees, and Merla has completely swapped sides in the war.  They rescue Lotor and she gets him to safety while Voltron gives cover fire, and she tries to convince him to join the ‘good’ side. (Again, blatant good vs. evil in Oldtron.)  He’s confused and conflicted, but seems open to the idea, even working with Allura and the Voltron Force an episode later.

It’s hard to say where this was going, as the series ends fairly abruptly after this with its cancellation, but I think we saw Merla’s defection in VLD, and I would even guess she would have been instrumental if not critical in saving Lotor’s life. Either persuading Allura that he’s still alive but needs alchemy to heal, or something similar.  In DotU, Lotor would not have lived had Merla not stepped in.  I think there’s a decent chance that she, too, was destined for something greater, not just a legacy slap-on name at the end in VLD.

Anyway, that’s my take on Romelle (and apparently Merla worked her way into the mix.)  Sorry for the mini-meta, but I enjoyed mulling it over!

#Anonymous #ask crystal #vld #dotu #voltron #defender of the universe #legendary defender #merla #romelle #meta #crystal metas #kinda

[artemisegeria]

The Best Timeline

Title: The Best Timeline

Rating: T

Word count: 3599

Warnings: minor language and innuendo, ridiculousness

Summary: Wanda and Vision find a mysterious package on their doorstep. They open it to reveal a glimpse of their lives in another world. Endgame Spoilers.

A/N: It’s been weeks, but I’m still bitter about Endgame’s treatment of Vision. And it’s Paul Bettany’s birthday, so I’m giving him the recognition he deserves. While my underlying emotions are very real, I exaggerated some of my complaints for comedic effect (hopefully). This is not meant to be taken too seriously. Other than the essential point that Vision (and Paul) deserved better.

Also, some parts of the movie may be out of order/misremembered/omitted.

  Vision answered the door upon hearing the bell ring. No one was there. Instead, there was only a small package. He picked it up curiously to find a DVD. When he returned to the living room, Wanda asked, “Who was it?”

“There was no one there, but someone left this film called Avengers: Endgame. Very curious. The cover bears images of all our friends.” He handed it to Wanda for her to peruse.

The original six Avengers, of course, had the largest images in the center of the package, but Wanda also appeared on the back, along with a number of their space-based allies. Vision could only surmise that this movie came from an alternate universe where he and his friends were fictional characters. It was amazing that the actors chosen in that universe so closely resembled his real friends in his own universe. That would provide hours of fodder for speculation, but right now he simply wanted to see how events turned out.

He couldn’t help but notice that he was not featured on either side of the cover. That was perfectly alright. He was not upset in the least. Vision understood that there were many characters to take into account, but he still felt a pang in his synthetic heart that he did not merit one square inch of space. He was an Avenger after all, and a bearer of one sixth of the Infinity Stones. And his AI forebear had been important to Tony Stark far before that.

Enough time had passed that the worst of the pain surrounding Thanos’s attack had ebbed, but Vision was still concerned for Wanda’s well-being. However, she seemed equally interested in learning about this movie. “We should watch. Don’t you think, Vizh?”

“I agree.”

He slipped the disk into their DVD player. When he returned to the couch, Wanda cuddled closer against his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Clint Barton appeared on the screen. Vision watched Clint interact with his family, only to see them disappear into thin air. “What kind of monsters would show that?” Wanda asked. “Everyone knows about the Snap already, or at least the cover said.”

“I do not know. Perhaps it is a devious attempt at emotional manipulation, encouraging the audience to forgive Clint a great deal when he reacts to their deaths.”

Then a logo proclaiming Marvel Studios appeared on the screen. He wondered if it had any association with Captain Marvel in their world.

The image shifted to Tony and Nebula, adrift in the vastness of space. Carol soon rescued them. “I know that Carol is powerful, but the odds of her finding them are almost incalculable.” Another item to put on his list for another time. Vision did enjoy these problems in the middle of the night while the rest of the world was asleep.

“Yeah, I’m glad she did though.” Wanda and Tony were now on a much better footing. His role in bringing Vision back was a key step in helping them reconcile after Wanda returned. When Carol landed the ship in front of the compound, Vision could not help but tear up at Tony’s reunion with Pepper. They truly were a wonderful couple. He had been so happy to attend their wedding with Wanda after they had defeated Thanos, and to become a godfather to Morgan when she was born a year later.

They watched the faces of the Snapped people flash by. Vision held Wanda more tightly when her face appeared. She nuzzled his shoulder. “It’s okay now.” He nodded against the top of her head, but kept her close to him.

When the characters on screen started planning to fight Thanos a second time, Vision and Wanda truly started getting confused. In their universe, the Avengers and their allies all worked together for five years, preparing themselves for battle and gathering Infinity Stones, before attempting to face Thanos again. They absorbed alternate universe Carol’s idea to go after Thanos immediately. Carol in their universe was rightfully confident as well, but others had prevailed on her that they should wait to prepare a battle strategy and only fight Thanos at their full strength.

When the small contingent boarded the aircraft to travel to the Garden, Vision muttered, “This plan seems most unwise.”

“Mmhmm.”

Vision began to question his assessment when the group easily restrained Thanos and removed the Gauntlet. But when Rocket flipped it over to see the empty slots and Thanos explained what he had done, Vision felt a small measure of triumph. The scene ended with a somewhat startling shot of Thor cutting off Thanos’s head and walking away.

This was far different from what happened in their world. In their universe, Thanos could not resist the temptation of keeping the Stones intact. He bided his time while the worlds he destroyed struggled to carry on. The only precaution he took was to scatter the Stones throughout deep space, keeping their locations to himself.

Next, a black screen revealed that five years had passed. Vision watched Natasha face the holograms of their friends who were working across the galaxies to keep the universe together. They were having a remarkably similar conversation to one Vision remembered about a garbage scow and an underwater earthquake, but he wondered why he was not present. Both he and Clint, who had come back to Natasha and the Avengers after his family had disappeared, had called into that meeting. Clint had been stationed in the Midwest of the United States, infiltrating a local militia that was attempting to usurp the federal government in that area. Vision had been sent to the remnants of the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland to act as a liaison once Bruce, Tony, and Shuri had revived him in 2020. Vision did not like to think about those days, but they were a part of him.

He watched Scott Lang detail his theory of how they could bring everyone back with time travel. Vision frowned. He remembered those debates that had endured for weeks about the feasibility of such plans. Firm lines had been drawn, confusion had reigned among those less versed in the science of quantum mechanics, and bitterness lingered long after they had decided that they would use a different plan. Fortunately, those feelings had been soothed by the time of the final battle, but Vision still did not want to dwell on it.

On screen Natasha, Steve, and Scott traveled to see Doctor Banner, now one with the Hulk. Vision had already accepted that the events in this movie were very different from what happened in their universe, but it was still odd to see the Avengers act as if they had not spoken to Doctor Banner for the full five years that had elapsed. In Vision’s own universe, Bruce had become an integral part of the team after the eighteen months spent merging with the Hulk. He had played a crucial role in bringing Vision back, along with Tony and Shuri. Working through the mostly successful project (in every way except that Vision had been left without any emotions) had been the catalyst to encourage the Avengers to trust and rely on each other again.

He still felt guilt over not mourning Wanda or any of his friends, though she insisted he could not help it. That is what Vision wished to forget, but maybe his emotionless logic had been necessary at the time. It allowed him to function without the grief that he would surely have experienced otherwise weighing down his thoughts and actions.

Vision forced his attention back to the movie. He and Wanda were even more taken aback when they reached New Asgard. Vision felt great compassion for that universe’s version of Thor. He was clearly struggling with guilt and anguish. Vision bristled when Rocket made a joke about his changed appearance. Rocket was not the most sensitive of companions, but whoever wrote his dialogue seemed to expect the audience to laugh at the joke. Thor’s depression was not something to be made the butt of a puerile joke.

It only grew worse as the writers continued to elaborate on making Thor a pitiful figure. What Thor had faced would be enough to make anyone turn to alcohol or food and to isolate one’s self from the world, but his character was unrecognizable from the one Vision knew. The Thor he knew continued to bear up admirably under the pressure of the Snap and had done everything in his power to help his people adjust to living on Earth. He had become a king in truth as well as name.

When the scene shifted to Tokyo, the rainy night suggested that it would not be a pleasant scene. Vision was still shocked at the blood and violence contained therein. Rhodes had mentioned that Clint was undertaking the murder of people he judged to be criminals throughout the world, but this seemed extreme even for him. When Natasha approached him, saying that she would not judge him for his worst mistake, Vision privately thought that the five years, more or less, of extra-judicial killings were far more than a mistake. Instead, it was an international crime spree that would take years to untangle in international courts, with so many countries battling for jurisdiction. Vision did feel vindicated in his assessment of the opening scene, comforting himself that none of this had ever happened. In their universe, Clint had tried to avenge his family by working to save what was left of the world and to bring them back.

When they reached the presentations concerning the Infinity Stones, Vision was once again somewhat affronted that they did not even mention him. This was the perfect opportunity to address his absence from the team and explain that his revival without the Mind Stone had left him without any emotions. Alas, they moved back to the time-travel debate.

Vision and Wanda watched as the teams split up, some going to Vormir, some to Morag, and some to New York in 2012. In their universe, everyone had hunted down the Stones together using a modified version of the device Rocket had used to detect Thanos’s second Snap. There was no more splitting up, only becoming a true team and unit.

Wanda shrieked with laughter at Scott’s comment about “America’s ass.” Vision frowned deeply, but he quickly smoothed out his features. He shifted his attention to the other events on screen. This section of the movie was a humorous look at the Battle of New York, though none of it had ever happened. Well, the events had likely happened in some universe if there were infinite alternate realities. He was drawn away from his contemplation when Captain Rogers started fighting an earlier version of himself and the camera focused again on his posterior while he admitted that it was “America’s ass.”

“Damn right, it is,” Wanda murmured with a smirk. Vision failed to hide his displeasure this time.

“I suppose it is aesthetically pleasing.” The tightness in his voice was clearly audible to Wanda. She paused the movie before looking up at him. She swung her legs over his lap and tilted his face down to hers, grinning at him.

“Not as much as yours.” She quickly paused the movie and leaned up to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her in place as their mouths moved together. They finally pulled apart several minutes later.

Vision felt foolish for succumbing to jealousy so easily. “Thank you, Wanda.”

“Sure thing, Vizh. Ready to get back to the movie?” Vision nodded. The action resumed with Tony and Steve traveling even farther back in time. This movie’s treatment of time-travel was growing confusing even to his own advanced synthetic brain.

When everyone returned to the time travel platform and broke to mourn for Natasha, tears started rolling down Wanda’s cheeks. He clutched her more tightly. “It’s alright. Natasha is perfectly well.” She nodded against him, sniffling, and he handed her a tissue.

They finally reached the point where the Avengers prepared to use the Gauntlet. He did not understand why they were arguing over who should use it when the clear solution was the one they used in their own universe, distributing all six Stones among six individuals, reducing the negative side effects. He could recall the painstaking construction of their own version of the Infinity Gauntlet. Tony had made a chain that connected all six Stones. Each Stone fitting had another chain that allowed one of the chosen Avengers to hold it. Vision, Thor, Steve, Carol, and Bruce had been the ones chosen, due to their superhuman physiques, along with Tony. Alas, Vision could not communicate through the screen to correct their plan. Instead he was forced to watch Bruce’s struggle with the movement and the serious injury that resulted from it.

The results of their channeling the Stones’ power were similar though. Clint had smiled shakily upon seeing his wife’s face appear on his phone in both universes. Birds suddenly started chirping and a tree that had been Snapped out of existence reappeared. The most startling result in Vision’s universe had been that the Mind Stone had merged with him again, granting him his emotions. He shuddered a bit in memory of how the wave of years of suppressed emotions had crashed down on him at once, bringing him to his knees and causing him to sob. He was grateful for Wanda’s presence in this moment; he rested his head against her chest as she rubbed his shoulder. She paused the movie again, letting him breathe.

After several minutes, Vision finally raised his head to look at Wanda, cupping her face gently. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, and she smiled at him, her own eyes watering. He said, “I am ready to resume the film when you are.”

The screen showed the disguised 2014 Nebula leading Thanos into the compound. Wincing at the sudden destruction of the entire building, Vision wondered how the remaining Avengers would stand against such a force, whether what came next would approximate what happened in their universe at all.

At the time, the others had rushed to comfort him just as Thanos and his forces had appeared outside the compound, drawn by the energy signature of their second Snap. Vision had tried to join them. He had to do his part. But Natasha urged him to stay back until he had recovered himself while the others moved outside to confront Thanos. Vision would never forget the helplessness he experienced then, but the thought of his friends out there alone and the refusal to let the world be at that monster’s mercy pushed him into action within 3.65 minutes.

Thanos had just finished his grand monologue about being inevitable and coming to take back what they had stolen from him when Vision met the other Avengers. The out-sized figure sneered at him when he saw the Mind Stone. “I will enjoy killing you again, Living Machine.” Vision did not honor him with a response. Instead, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Carol, Nebula, Rhodes, Scott, Natasha, Thor, Rocket, Clint, and Vision all moved forward as one. Then, the battle had begun in earnest.

What occurred on screen was quite different. With only Steve, Thor, and Tony facing Thanos, and everyone else cut off in various parts of the facility, the battle seemed even more unequal. There was still the same pedestrian monologuing, but Vision was curious to see the resolution. He had no desire to ever pay any mind to Thanos again.

It looked as if the Avengers would truly be defeated once and for all when the crackle of static alerted Steve to a new presence “on his left.” It was thrilling when the first portal opened and T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri stepped through. As more opened, revealing Peter, Stephen, and the lost Guardians, and many others, the swelling music caught Vision’s mind, even though he was certain about what would ultimately happen.

Wanda swung her legs back onto the floor and leaned forward eagerly as she flew through a portal with Bucky and some Wakandan soldiers. “I look awesome here.” Her powers did look majestic. Vision was awed once again that Wanda had chosen him when she could have had anyone she wanted.

“Always, dear.” He quickly shifted his attention back to the television, not wanting to miss a moment. The one remark that passed through his mind before he became completely engrossed in the spectacle was that it was fortunate that the villains were following movie logic and stopped completely while the heroes were still dramatically preparing themselves for battle. But that all faded away when he saw Wanda stand alone against Thanos. He would never cease to be amazed by her strength. And slightly aroused, if he were being completely honest.

Wanda glanced at him and smirked. Patting his knee, she said, “Later, darling.” Both of them had no more time to spare when Wanda joined with the other women on screen, and they all began to advance together. It was a compelling sight, though Vision couldn’t help but note that these women had barely interacted prior to this moment. It somewhat undercut the power of the image.

By that point, Vision realized that he would not be appearing. He felt a slice of disappointment run through him. It was petty, perhaps, but pettiness was part of humanity. He embraced it as he did all of humanity. So he allowed himself a few moments of bitterness.

Vision was drawn from his brooding as Wanda clutched his hand when Thanos and his army began to flake away into dust. It was a supremely satisfying moment, even though much of the film was a complete fiction in their universe.

When the scene shifted to Tony’s funeral, Vision bowed his head for the fictional Tony. Though he supposed they never grew close in that universe, Vision thought of how his own universe’s Tony had eventually become one of his closest friends. He noted that he still was not present among the Avengers, so he supposed neither Shuri nor Bruce had repaired him yet. Later, the camera panned to a shot of only Clint and Wanda.

His own Wanda frowned at their conversation. “I know people react to grief differently, but I have no idea why any version of me wouldn’t at least say your name. And it’s weird that I didn’t mention Pietro either.” Vision had to agree. He knew that Wanda still felt her brother’s loss keenly, even after many years, but she still spoke of the happier times often.

“I do not understand it either.” He could not hold it against the fictional Wanda, as she was at the mercy of writers who had their own strange agenda, apparently.

His wife wrapped her arms around him again, and he returned her embrace. “I’m glad we don’t need to worry about that.”

“Indeed,” he whispered into her hair, breathing in her scent.

Vision checked the time. They were very close to the end now. The scene turned to Steve standing on a miniature version of the time travel platform from the compound. Vision murmured, “This all could have been avoided if they had done anything but time travel.”

Wanda elbowed him lightly, and he subsided. Mere moments later Steve was shown to be an old man sitting on a bench. They watched as he handed his shield to Sam. Wanda voiced her shock vociferously. “Sam deserves it, but I don’t think Steve would ever just leave his friends and the world he spent twelve years adjusting just to go back to a woman he had made his peace with.”

“I concur.” In their universe, Steve was alive and well. He had finally taken a leave to address the years of trauma that he had suffered and was still leading the team with aplomb.

They watched as Steve danced with Peggy and the closing credits began to play. “Well, I could see how certain audience members might find the ending pleasing, no matter how nonsensical it is.”

“I guess. That’s just not my Steve.”

“Nor mine.” The credits began to play, with highlights from each of the main cast members. They were particularly beautiful. Clearly the artists had paid great attention to detail, but he still did not appear. Logic dictated that that was the case, but it was cold comfort.

Wanda returned to the main menu. “Ooh, let’s watch some of the bonus features!” Vision was not feeling enthusiastic about watching any more, but he nodded agreeably. They played through the deleted scenes, where he was also not featured or mentioned once. Then, there was a brief history of all twenty-two movies in the franchise, where the actor who played his character was featured momentarily. Paul Bettany was also an actor in their universe. Vision loved his movies, and Wanda did like to tease him that the man bore a certain resemblance to Vision. He was gratified to have an actor of his caliber portray him. Though it made him bitter all over again that he was not allowed to be featured even once in the credits of the culminating movie in the franchise. He deserved it after seven movies.

Vision supposed that in the end it did not matter because in this universe he was alive and well. Wanda’s warmth was pressed against his side, and they had their whole lives ahead of them. He was truly living in the best timeline.

#fanfiction #alternate universe #vision #wanda maximoff #wanda x vision #scarlet vision #post avengers endgame #endgame spoilers #happy birthday paul bettany

[sceptilemasterr]

Catalysts Play Open Heart: Chapter 6

Summary: Varyyn takes a request a bit too literally, and Raj and Craig discuss Guinness World Records, and Aleister debates Batman-related grammar with Diego.

Previous Chapter: Link

Note: The things in bold are scenes from the actual Choices chapter. Ian (x Estela) and Alyssa (x Jake) are my twin Endless Summer MCs.

Warnings: Alcohol use, swearing.

“No. No, no, no. We’ve spent enough time chasing after Furball as it is!” argued Michelle. “We all know he can handle himself, anyway.”

Quinn pouted. “But… what if he gets lost? What if he can’t find his way back?”

Michelle shook her head. “I’m not worried. He’s always managed to find us no matter how far apart we ended up. Have a little faith in the blue guy!”

“Purple guy now, actually,” Alyssa reminded them. “And, honestly, Quinn, I agree with Michelle. Furball will turn up again. Promise.”

“Thanks. See, even Alyssa agrees!”

Quinn huffed and crossed her arms. “Aww… fine. I just hope he’s okay.”

“If it would help, I could send a message to Elyys’tel, asking them to be on the lookout for Furball,” offered Varyyn.

“Sure, that’s better than nothing, at least. Thanks, Varyyn,” said Quinn.

Varyyn nodded and got up to head outside. How exactly he was going to send a message to Elyys’tel from the Celestial, no one was quite sure, but nobody really wanted to ask. After a momentary awkward silence, Michelle shrugged and stood up. “Well, if there’s nothing else… should we go ahead and start?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Varyyn to get back?” asked Sean.

Diego nodded. “Thanks, Sean. I mean, it can’t take him very long…”

The next morning, the doors to the lobby slid open and Varyyn sprinted inside, panting heavily. “The message has been passed!” he announced. Then he paused, looking around and realizing that the Catalysts were all very sound asleep. “...Hello?”

Jake and Alyssa lay side-by-side in a pair of armchairs, their hands resting close enough to each other that they had probably fallen asleep holding hands. Sean was curled up in one corner of a couch, leaving the rest of the couch for Zahra, sprawled out along its length. On the floor next to her was Craig, sleeping with his face on the floor and his butt in the air, which looked uncomfortable but apparently he didn’t mind. Michelle and Quinn had fallen asleep leaning against each other, on the loveseat near the projector. Raj lay in his recliner, which he apparently hadn’t moved from in six hours. Aleister and Grace lay on the floor, Aleister sleeping perfectly still with Grace draped over his chest. Diego was curled up in a large pile of pillows in the center of the circle. Only Estela and Ian were missing, but Varyyn didn’t notice their absence right away.

At the sound of Varyyn’s voice, Diego stirred, pushing himself up out of the nest of pillows he’d made for himself. “Huh?” he asked groggily, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Oh! Varyyn! How long was I asleep?”

“I do not know, Diego,” said Varyyn, crossing over to sit next to his husband. “I only just returned from the village.

“From the village… wait, you mean you ran all the way back to Elyys’tel?! By yourself?”

“Well, yes,” Varyyn said simply. “How else was I to give the message to the village?”

Diego shook his head incredulously. “Varyyn…” he sighed.

“Who’s there?” asked Estela suddenly, walking in from the kitchen with Ian. “Oh. Varyyn, you’re back!”

Slowly but surely, the rest of the Catalysts started to wake up, one by one. “...Mornin’,” said Jake, staggering to his feet. “Varyyn? Where the hell were you?”

“I ran to Elyys’tel and back, as I had said that I would,” he explained.

Craig pushed himself up, leaving a large head-shaped indentation in the carpet where his face had been. “Whoa, Varyyn’s back! About time! Does this mean we can keep going with the story now?”

“Geez, Craig, give us some time,” groaned Zahra. “With this hangover? I’m not starting anything ‘till I’ve had my coffee.”

“Just make sure it’s not that Rourke Ultra-Energy nonsense again,” said Alyssa.

Everyone laughed. “Guess that’s my cue,” said Raj, pushing himself out of his chair. “One pot of normal coffee, coming right up! And some breakfast, while I’m at it. Sounds good?”

“Hell yeah, Raj!”

“You’re the best, man. Thanks so much!” said Sean with a smile.

Quinn got to her feet, being careful not to disturb Michelle, who was somehow still sleeping. “Need any help, Raj?” she asked.

Raj grinned broadly. “You know it!” he exclaimed as the two of them headed into the kitchen.

A short while later, once everyone had been well-fed, well-caffeinated, and (more or less) starting to recover from their hangovers, Quinn and Michelle returned to the projector to try to connect Quinn’s phone back to the screen. The operative word, of course, being “try.”

After several long minutes of everyone waiting expectantly while Quinn and Michelle struggled with the tangled mess of wires, Zahra stood up with an incredibly melodramatic sigh. “Goddammit, just… let me handle this,” she announced, stomping over to the projector. Quinn and Michelle backed away as Zahra knelt down to look at the wires. “Holy shit, what the hell did you even do?!” she demanded.

“Connected… the wires?” said Quinn innocently.

“That is not how you… holy hell, this does not go there… are you trying to make this thing explode?!”

“That would be AWESOME!” exclaimed Craig.

Zahra glared at him. “No, it wouldn’t. Now, would you all shut the hell up?” Everyone hurriedly complied, and there were several awkward moments of silence as Zahra disconnected and reconnected all of the wires in the jury-rigged projector setup. At long last, she sighed, stepped back, and flipped the projector on.

“Hell yeah! Go, Z!” shouted Craig.

Zahra smirked but said nothing as she sat down next to him. Quinn shrugged and picked up her phone, loading the Choices app. “Alright, let’s get this thing started!” said Raj excitedly as the loading screen appeared.

“Hope the competition actually starts in this chapter,” said Diego, leaning forward in his seat. “Last chapter was fun, but I’m kinda getting impatient!”

“Agreed, I’m ready to do this!” said Michelle. Finally, the app finished loading, and Quinn handed her phone off to Michelle, who began the next chapter.

Open Heart: Chapter 6

Housewarming

“That music does not fit that title at all,” Diego commented.

“Agreed. Can we get the happy title music back?” asked Alyssa. “At least that other music we could dance to…”

Nurse: Dr. Nguyen! Your post-op patient is in distress!

“That explains the music, at least,” said Michelle.

“Have we skipped something?” asked Aleister, bewildered. “This is the correct chapter, right?”

“I don’t think it even lets you skip chapters,” Jake pointed out. “‘Sides, didn’t realize you cared so much.”

“I do not! I… I just… er…”

Grace giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re having fun with this, too,” she teased. “Admit it!” While Aleister continued to protest, Michelle continued reading through the story.

MC!Michelle: What happened? I saw her two minutes ago and she was fine!

Nurse: She can’t breathe! She has fluid in her lungs!

Nurse 2: Her heart’s in atrial fibrillation! Rate’s pushing 160!

Nurse: Her B.P.’s crashing. She’s hypotensive!

“Already with the sciencey words? It’s too early for that,” said Craig. “I’m confused.”

“Honestly, Craig? I’m confused too. What a weird start after the way the last chapter ended,” Michelle told him.

“Maybe it’s a dream?” suggested Sean. “Or just a weird time skip?”

“Who knows?” asked Ian.

“You know what they say, only one way to find out!” said Raj. “Let’s keep going! And hopefully save the patient.”

Nurse 2: What do you want to do, Doctor?

What do you use?

Jake shrugged at the choices that appeared. “Yup. This one’s ALL you, Doc.”

“...Is that an ice pick at the bottom?” asked Craig.

Michelle shook her head, laughing. “No, but now that you mention it… a laryngoscope does kinda look like an ice pick…”

“Seriously? Whoa, I was right!”

“...You really weren’t,” snarked Zahra.

Michelle stared at the screen, pondering the choices. “I feel like each of these would fix a different one of the patient’s symptoms,” she muttered to herself, “so… in an emergency, always secure the airway first…” She nodded and selected “A breathing tube!”, or, as Craig referred to it, the ‘ice pick.’

The next morning…

Landry: Michelle? Are you listening?

MC!Michelle: Sorry, Landry. I got… distracted.

“So… did that actually happen, or were you daydreaming?” asked a still-confused Diego.

“I’m still not sure,” Michelle admitted.

“This chapter’s confusing as hell,” complained Jake. “I need a drink.”

“Wouldn’t that just make the confusion worse?” asked Alyssa.

“Dammit, Princess, you’re probably right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Landry: Still thinking about that patient from last night?

“Huh. Mystery solved,” Estela observed. “You all need to have some patience.”

“Wait, did Estela just make a pun?!” asked Raj, shocked. “Call the press! It’s the apocalypse!”

“That was completely unintentional,” said Estela.

“Well, I thought it was pretty funny. Ever thought of being a comedian?” teased Alyssa.

Estela averted her gaze as the story continued, but from his angle, Ian could see her trying and failing not to smile. He raised an eyebrow, and she shot him an amused glance that only he could see.

Sienna: She survived.

“Oh, good,” said Diego. “I was getting nervous.”

“After what happened with Dolores, I think we’re all a little on edge whenever there’s a patient issue in this story,” Sean said.

MC!Michelle: But when a million bad things happen at once, I panic. I can’t handle when everything’s spiraling out of control.

“Amen to that,” said Quinn. “Who wouldn’t panic?”

“Myself, for one,” Aleister replied. “I pride myself on staying perfectly in control of my emotions at all times...” While Aleister was talking, Jake picked up a piece of pancake that had fallen on the ground and chucked it at Aleister’s ear. “AIYEEEE!” shrieked Aleister in an incredibly high-pitched voice, falling out of his chair and landing with a thud on his rear.

“...You were sayin’?” smirked Jake as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Aleister, flustered, stammered a bit before halfheartedly chuckling. “I admit I… have my moments of weakness…” he admitted.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Sean reassured him. “We’re all only human.”

“Most of us are, at any rate,” Aleister corrected him, looking at the twins.

“Shut up,” laughed Alyssa, tossing another piece of pancake at Aleister’s face. This time, the pancake piece sailed right over his head.

“Hey, if you’re gonna chuck food around, chuck it at me!” said Craig. “So I can eat it!” He held his mouth open for emphasis.

“Ugh, Craig, that stuff was on the floor,” Zahra complained.

“So? Five-second rule!”

“It’s been a hell of a lot more than five seconds since breakfast.”

“...Five-hour rule?”

Zahra made a disgusted face. “That’s seriously not a thing.”

“Alright, Michelle, this conversation is getting gross,” said Grace. “Can we please keep going?”

“Thank you, Grace,” said Aleister as Michelle obliged.

MC!Michelle: You’re right.

Landry: I don’t want to brag. But, statistically speaking, I usually am.

“...Why does that sound like an Aleister line?” asked Zahra.

“Damn, you’re right!” laughed Alyssa. “Aleister, read it!”

“I… what?”

“Read Landry’s line out loud!” said Raj, chiming in. “Come on!”

“This is absurd.”

“I think you mean ‘hilarious,’” said Jake. “Do it!”

Aleister sighed. “If it will make you all shut up… very well. ‘I don’t want to brag. But, statistically speaking, I usually am.’”

Everyone laughed and applauded at the same time. “Oh, man, that was perfect,” Raj said. “It’s a little early for drinking, so… coffee toast?”

“Why not?” agreed Jake, raising his coffee mug as everyone else did the same. Aleister looked around at the others, utterly confused before shaking his head and exchanging a glance with Grace.

“It’s okay. I don’t get it either,” she admitted.

MC!Michelle: Wow. It looks like everyone signed up for the competition.

“So I was literally the only person there who didn’t sign up until the last minute?” complained Michelle. “Seriously?”

“Hey, at least you’re in!” said Diego. “That’s what matters, right?”

“I guess so,” Michelle admitted.

Jackie: Only a complete jackass would pass that up.

MC!Michelle: Thanks for that, Jackie.

“Alright, Zahra, fair is fair,” said Michelle, laughing. “Your turn.”

“Great, is this a ‘thing’ we’re doing now?” she asked.

“To be fair, you started it,” Craig reminded her.

“‘Only a complete jackass would pass that up,’” quoted Zahra after a brief hesitation. “There. I said it. Happy?”

“Can Zahra just read all of Jackie’s lines from now on?” suggested Diego. “That was perfect!”

“Sure, if she wants,” said Michelle. “Zahra?”

Zahra sighed. “Sure, why the hell not,” she decided.

Elijah: How about this? Whoever’s ranked lowest has to pick up the keg for tonight’s housewarming party?

Jackie: I like the way you think.

“Alright, now we’re talkin’!” yelled Craig. “Party time!”

“Sure took ‘em long enough,” said Jake. “It’s been… how many chapters since we got the apartment?”

“Better late than never, right? Besides, you gotta wait to do the party properly,” Raj said.

“I just hope they don’t make us wait through another filler chapter like last time,” said Diego. “Once was okay, but they keep teasing us with things.”

“Remember the title, though?” Ian reminded him.

Diego’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! You’re right, it’s gotta be in this chapter then!”

Landry: You guys, our place is nice, but it’s not that big! We’ve gotta keep it small!

MC!Michelle: Landry…

“Chill out!” said Craig when the choices appeared. “I vote ‘Chill out!’”

“...We are actually voting, then, right?” asked Aleister. “About time.”

“As much as I think Landry has a point, I get the feeling ‘Chill out’ is gonna win anyway,” Sean admitted.

Sure enough, when Aleister took the vote, ‘Chill out’ won 10-4. “Yeah!” exclaimed Craig, high-fiving Raj.

Dr. Ines: Oh, are you talking about your housewarming tonight? I can’t wait!

“Wait, we invited her, too?” asked Michelle, surprised. “Elijah wasn’t kidding when he said ‘everybody.’”

“I like her!” said Quinn. “She’s so nice!”

“Can you imagine if she brought Dr. Zaid, though?” suggested Raj.

Everyone laughed at the mental image.

Dr. Ines: I was actually just on my way to tell Zaid about it. You don’t mind, right?

MC!Michelle: You want to bring Dr. Mirani?

“Wow, we called that one!” said Diego.

“I can’t even picture him at a party,” Michelle commented. “Like, ever.”

“He and Dr. Ramsey should have a grumpiness contest,’” suggested Raj. “Loser has to be nice to everyone for a week.”

“That would be pretty funny, actually,” Michelle admitted. “So, what should we say?”

“I say we invite him,” said Zahra. “Just because he’d be hilariously awkward. Who agrees?”

Raj, Craig, Diego, Michelle, Jake, Estela, and the twins all voted along with her. Aleister sighed. “I suppose majority rules, in this case,” he said as Michelle selected the option.

Dr. Ines: But he’s loads of fun at parties.

MC!Michelle: We look forward to seeing that.

“Whoa. Plot twist!” exclaimed Diego.

“I am SO glad we invited him now,” laughed Craig. “This is gonna be AMAZING.”

“That’s for sure!” agreed Alyssa, air-fiving him.

Sienna: Is it just me, or is he even grumpier than usual?

MC!Michelle: He’s probably…

“I feel like he’d have to defy several laws of physics to be “grumpier than usual,” said Ian.

“You’re not wrong there,” agreed Raj as everyone dissolved into laughter.

“I’d say he’s annoyed about having to pick an intern,” suggested Grace. “Who else agrees?”

Michelle nodded as she, Sean, Jake, Alyssa, Aleister, and Diego all raised their hands to vote along with Grace. “Okay, who likes ‘Got something else on his mind?’” Ian, Estela, Quinn, Zahra, Craig, and Raj raised their hands. When she counted up the votes, Grace frowned. “Aww… well, guess we’ll go with the majority,” she said, dejected.

“It is quite alright, Grace,” Aleister reassured her. “Such is the nature of leaving decisions to the whims of the majority.”

In spite of herself, Grace smiled. “You always know just what to say.”

“What? It is simply a fact.”

Dr. Ramsey’s List: Read it.

“Drink, y’all!” said Jake reflexively. Then he remembered that no one was drinking any alcohol this time, due to how early it was. “Uh… drink coffee? …Y’all?”

Everyone shrugged. “Sure, why not,” said Zahra, taking a gulp of her coffee as everyone else followed suit.

Elijah: Nineteen? Looks like you’re on keg duty, Michelle!

“What? Seriously?!” demanded Michelle. “That’s not even fair!”

“Yeah, we didn’t even get a chance to do anything yet!” agreed Quinn. “I hope Dr. Ramsey isn’t just deducting us for being late!”

“Talk about bullshit,” said Jake.

MC!Michelle: I’m number nineteen?

Everyone laughed as the choices came up. “Well, looks like we all know what Jake’s voting for,” said Alyssa. “Though, gotta admit, I’m picking the same.”

“I think we all agree with ‘that’s bull,’” said Estela. “Right?”

Everyone mumbled a bit, and eventually all raised their hands to agree with Estela. “Alright, that was easy,” commented Michelle as she picked the ‘that’s bull’ option.

You follow Ethan down a hall adjoining a new wing of the hospital, still under construction.

“Uh, what’s with the weird music?” asked Diego.

“Dunno,” said Ian, shrugging. “Hope everything’s okay…”

MC!Michelle: You’re… not going to berate me?

“Whoa, plot twist again!” exclaimed Raj.

“Guess there really is something else on his mind,” Michelle observed. “Wonder what it is.”

“Only one way to find out!” said Diego.

Dr. Ramsey: Now get back to your patients. Doctors shouldn’t be anywhere near the construction.

“Uh… hypocrite, much?” said Grace.

“What does a ‘hippo crate’ have to do with anything?” asked Craig, confused.

Aleister sighed. “Not ‘hippo crate,’ hypocrite,” he explained. “As should be quite obvious.”

“Oh. Right. Got it,” said Craig, clearly not understanding at all.

MC!Michelle: Wait… one more thing. (What do I do?)

“Wow… there’s an actual choice called ‘Suck up?’” said Zahra. “I kinda want to pick it just because.”

“Aw, but Z, imagine how funny it would be if we invited him to the party!” argued Craig. “How else can we have a ‘grump-off’ between him and the other guy?”

“Professionalism, guys, come on,” protested Michelle. “‘Promise to do better next time’ is clearly the best option!”

“For once, I agree with Michelle,” said Aleister.

“But Dr. Ramsey at the party? Talk about hilariously awkward,” said Raj. “Pick it, pick it!”

“Are we going to blabber all day, or shall we VOTE?!” demanded Aleister through his megaphone as everyone started talking at once. The room instantly went silent. “That is much better. Now then, all in favor of the first choice?” Raj, Craig, Alyssa, and Jake all raised their hands for ‘Invite him to the party.’ “And the second option?” This time, Michelle, Quinn, Ian, Estela, Aleister, Grace, and Sean raised their hands. “Very well. Final choice?” Zahra and Diego raised their hands. Zahra scowled when she realized how outnumbered they were. “There you are,” said Aleister. “We have our answer.”

“Thanks, Aleister,” said Michelle, selecting ‘Promise to do better next time.’

Dr. Ramsey: Radiology just got a new f.M.R.I. machine, but they haven’t tested it out yet. I’m growing impatient.

“Freakin’ Monkeys… Running… uh, Internets!” suggested Craig.

“...‘Internets?’ Plural?” asked Zahra incredulously. “Yeah, no.”

“Aww, but I was close, right?”

Michelle shook her head. “Not at all. Try ‘Functional MRI.’”

“Wait a moment, that is utterly unfair!” protested Aleister. “You cannot answer an acronym with another acronym! Be reasonable!”

“Uh, what’s an acronym?” asked Craig.

Zahra slapped him. “The letter things you’ve been guessing for the last six chapters!”

“Oh. Right. I knew that!”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Fine. ‘Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging.’ Happy now?”

“Yes, actually,” said Aleister.

Help Ethan test the machine?

“Oh, come on, it costs diamonds?!” yelled Zahra when the diamond choice appeared.

“To be fair, I kinda saw that coming,” Quinn said.

“True,” agreed Michelle. “So are we doing it, or no?”

Alyssa shrugged. “If you want to, but this is only the first diamond choice in the chapter,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, good point,” Jake agreed.

“Okay, then, let’s vote?” suggested Michelle. No one voted for the choice, realizing that there might be better choices later. “Wow. That was easy.”

Dr. Ramsey: Of course. I shouldn’t be asking interns anyway. I do need functioning brains for this to work, after all…

“Ooh! Sick burn!” said Craig.

“Alright, that was pretty funny,” admitted Zahra. “Who knew he had a sense of humor?”

The patient’s awake, typing furiously into a laptop as she argues vociferously into her Bluetooth earpiece.

“Sorry, but what does ‘vocif… whatever’ mean?” asked Alyssa.

“‘Vociferously?’ It means loud and forcefully,’” explained Grace.

“Thanks,” said Alyssa, smiling gratefully at her friend.

Mrs. Turner: I’m a little sore in the throat and around my operation scars, but otherwise fine.

“With how much she was talking? No shit her throat is sore,” snarked Zahra.

Mrs. Turner: It’s okay. I might be a lawyer but I’m not going to sue you for being honest.

MC!Michelle: Mrs. Turner…

“Hang on… is she the patient from the beginning flashback?” asked Jake. “Because that would make a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she is,” said Michelle.

“Ohhhhhhh,” said Raj as the realization dawned on him.

“So, uh, what do we choose?” Michelle asked the group.

There was a momentary awkward silence. “I mean… both of these seem like good choices,” said Diego.

“Yeah, I’m honestly good with either one,” said Alyssa. “Who wants to vote?”

Everyone just sort of stared at the projector screen for a few minutes. After a long, drawn-out silence, Estela sighed and stood up, scowling. “If no one wants to choose… I would say ‘I’ll be ready next time,’” she said.

“I mean, uh, sure?” said Jake.

“What the hell,” sighed Zahra. “Sure.”

After a quick glance around at the rest of the group, Michelle went ahead and selected Estela’s choice when no one else objected.

Mrs. Turner: I have a great team behind me, and I’m damn good at telling them what to do.

“I like her already,” said Zahra.

MC!Michelle: That sounds…

“‘Easy enough,’ certainly,” said Aleister when the choices appeared. “Delegation is essential to running any business. ...Er, or rather, hospital, in this case.”

“You’ve got a point,” admitted Michelle. “I can imagine that trying to do everything myself would just cause more problems for the patient.”

Grace nodded. “If you let yourself get too stressed and overworked, you won’t be able to help anyone. I learned that the hard way.”

“Alright, are we votin’ or what?” asked Jake. “I mean, I’m fine with Malfoy’s answer.”

“You want to do the vote, Jake?” asked Michelle.

“Wait, what? Nah, I didn’t mean-”

“Jake! Jake! Jake!” chanted Alyssa. “Do it!”

Jake made a face at his wife, but sighed and took the vote anyway. “Alright, who wants to say ‘Easy enough?’” He, Aleister, Grace, Alyssa, Michelle, Zahra, and Craig all raised their hands. “...And ‘kinda bossy?’” Ian, Estela, Quinn, Raj, Sean, and Diego raised their hands. “Alright, looks like ‘easy enough’ wins.”

“There, was that so hard?” asked Alyssa.

“Yes.”

Finally, after your long shift, you lug the beer keg to your apartment…

“YES! PAR-TY! PAR-TY! PAR-TY!” chanted Craig, as Zahra pulled out her earmuffs and jammed them over her ears.

“Hell yeah! PAR-TY! PAR-TY! PAR-TY!” Raj joined in.

“This should be fun!” said Diego excitedly. “So glad they’re actually doing the party in this chapter!”

Music thumps from Elijah’s speakers while everyone dances and plays drinking games.

“Nice,” said Jake appreciatively.

“I’m glad we got the bigger apartment now,” said Quinn. “Even if we did have to pass up a Bryce scene for that.”

“On the bright side, maybe there’ll be a scene with him at the party!” suggested Diego. “And we saved our diamonds this chapter, so…”

“I hope you’re right!” said Quinn, her eyes lighting up.

Dr. Zaid: This is really great, Nguyen. I’m loving the party.

MC!Michelle: I… can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.

“Neither can I,” admitted Zahra. “And I’m the queen of sarcasm.”

“Wait… was THAT sarcasm too?” asked Craig.

Zahra smirked. “Ha! You’ll never know…”

Bryce: Lemme help with that. I was wondering where you were.

“He’s back!” exclaimed Quinn.

“You called that one, Quinn!” said Sean, smiling. “Hope he gets a diamond scene!”

“Agreed,” said Estela. Everyone stared at her. “...What?”

“Nothin’, just… still surprising to see you so invested in this,” Jake told her.

“Six chapters in and you’re still surprised?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Smack him for me, would you, Alyssa?” Her sister-in-law quickly obliged, much to Jake’s annoyance.

You rummage through your clothes after the world’s fastest shower.

“Whoa, is that a real thing?” asked Raj. “I bet I could beat the record! ...Wait, what’s the actual record?”

“I highly doubt that ‘World’s Fastest Shower’ is an actual record,” said Aleister.

“Aww,” Raj groaned.

Grace shrugged. “To be fair, there are a lot weirder things in the Guinness Book of World Records. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” She sprinted out of the lobby and into the elevator.

After Grace had left, everyone looked at each other awkwardly, not sure what to do. “...So, uh,” said Raj finally. “Anyone… done any, uh… stuff?”

“What kind of question is that?” demanded Aleister.

“Dunno, couldn’t think of anything,” Raj admitted.

There was another long, awkward silence. Diego started humming the Avengers theme randomly. Estela sighed and snuggled up closer to Ian; Alyssa mimed vomiting and snuggled up closer to Jake in response. Ian rolled his eyes at the ridiculous ‘competition.’ Zahra pulled out her phone and started doing something on it, while Craig looked at it over her shoulder, trying to see what she was up to. Aleister pulled out a book on physics and started reading. Sean idly started tossing and catching a pillow. Raj promptly fell asleep. After a few minutes, Quinn joined in singing along with Diego while Michelle started tapping her foot impatiently, watching the elevator doors.

After several long minutes of this, the elevator finally opened and Grace emerged, carrying a silver Guinness World Records book under her arm. “I’m back!” she informed the group.

“Huh, wha?” asked Raj groggily as he woke from his mini nap.

Grace sat down in front of a side table and opened the book, flipping through the index. “Hmm,” she said, frowning, “doesn’t look like there’s a ‘World’s Fastest shower,’ but there is a ‘World’s Largest!”

“Wait, really? I bet we could beat that!” said Craig.

“...How the hell would we do that?” asked Zahra.

“Pfft, it’s easy! Just turn this entire hotel into a giant shower!”

“And how exactly would that be accomplished?” asked Aleister incredulously.

“Umm,” said Craig, thinking hard. “Maybe you could, like… get a billion buckets of water and chuck them at the ceiling?”

Everyone stared at him, completely at a loss for words. “I… I just… where on EARTH did you learn logic?!” Aleister demanded.

“Alright, let’s just keep going,” said Michelle finally, interrupting the random discussion about turning the Celestial into a giant shower.

“Thank heavens,” Aleister muttered.

Housewarming: Home is where the party is.

“Wow, what an outfit!” exclaimed Quinn when the premium outfit appeared.

“Too bad it costs diamonds though,” Alyssa reminded her. “We don’t wanna miss a Bryce scene!”

“Agreed,” said Sean. “Alright, let’s vote. Who says ‘no?’” The vote this time was, surprisingly, unanimous. “Huh. That settles that.”

“Okay, but if there isn’t a Bryce scene, I’m gonna be annoyed,” said Michelle. “That outfit was gorgeous.”

“Also, drink coffee, y’all!” Jake reminded everyone. “...Y’know, it doesn’t really have the same ring to it.”

Jackie reaches down to the floor and holds up three shot glasses.

Jackie: You have some catching up to do.

“Yep, that’s 500% what Zahra would actually say,” said Diego.

Zahra laughed. “You’re not wrong there.”

Sienna: Guys! This is Wayne!

Wayne: …

Jackie: He is real. I owe Landry twenty bucks.

“Ha, I totally would’ve taken that bet,” Craig said.

“With the glasses, he actually looks more like Superman,” Diego commented. “New theory: he’s a secret fusion of Superman and Batman!”

“That is awesome,” agreed Ian. “Plot twist: this was all happening in Gotham all along!”

“I would literally die from the awesomeness,” said Diego. “And it’s also a Ninja Turtles crossover?”

“Uh, of course!”

“Alright, moving on,” said Michelle, clearly uninterested in the superhero talk.

Wayne: I don’t have time to come all the way over here to hang out or whatever. I have a very important job.

MC!Michelle: An important job?

“Being Batman, duh,” said Diego. “I mean, that’s pretty important.”

“I seriously doubt he’s Batman,” said Michelle.

“Aw, come on! Let me dream!”

“Hey, it can’t hurt to ask, right?” suggested Raj. “I say ‘doing what.’”

“Thanks, Raj,” said Diego.

Michelle shrugged. “Fine, if it’ll finally make you shut up about Batman,” she said, selecting the option.

“Wait! We haven’t voted yet!” protested Aleister.

“Too late,” said Michelle as Aleister pouted.

Wayne: I’m lead programmer at a software company.

“...by DAY,” added Diego.

“Sounds like you, actually, Craig,” said Sean. “Is there something you’re not telling us? Are you also secretly Batman?”

“Don’t encourage this,” groaned Michelle.

“Dude, that would be so badass!” said Craig excitedly.

“How many Batmen are there, anyway?” asked Quinn.

“Excuse you, I believe the proper plural form would be ‘Batmans,’” interjected Aleister.

“Actually,” said Diego, “there was a storyline in the comics about multiple versions of Batman, and it was called ‘Rise of the Batmen,’ so Quinn’s right,” he pointed out.

“Oh, please. You are making that up.”

“I would never make up something like that!” protested Diego.

“It’s true, I’ve read that one,” said Ian.

Aleister pulled out his phone and googled the comic in question. “Hmph. It appears I was wrong. My apologies. Clearly I am not very well-informed on the subject of Batman.”

Diego grinned. “The best subject!”

“You’re damn right,” agreed Estela. Diego held up a hand to air-five her from across the room.

Jackie: If I’ve gotta deal with that guy all night, I need another drink.

“Yep, sounds about right,” admitted Zahra. “That’s pretty much how I feel whenever I have to deal with Aleister.”

“Er… was that an insult?” asked Aleister. The rest of the group dissolved into laughter. “...What?”

Elijah: Michelle! You up for a game of beer pong? I’ve never played before!

“Wait, seriously?” asked Craig. “What has this guy been doing with his life?!”

“...Pursuing his future?” suggested Grace.

“You gotta let loose every once in a while, though. Otherwise you just burn out,” Raj said.

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Grace admitted.

Jackie: Hey, Michelle. What do you say we go kick some ass in drunk rounds?

What do you play?

“Beer pong! Beer pong! Beer pong!” chanted Craig.

“Do you just wait for the moment you can chant something?” asked Zahra.

“Duh!”

“Can we please vote on this one?” asked Aleister. “Seeing as we skipped the previous vote.”

“It was an accident, I swear!” Michelle protested.

“Hmph. Whatever.”

“Alright, who votes ‘Beer pong?” asked Raj, while spinning his chair in a circle for some reason.

“Hell yeah!” shouted Craig, as he, Raj, Quinn, Diego, Alyssa, Jake, Zahra, Craig, and Sean raised their hands.

“Cool, beer pong it is!”

“Too bad,” said Michelle, frowning. “Drunk rounds sounds hilarious.”

“Sure, if you understand sciencey words,” said Jake. “For us ‘mortals,’ though…”

Michelle sighed. “You have a point,” she admitted, selecting the ‘beer pong’ option.

MC!Michelle: Let’s do this.

“LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOY! JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENKINS!” yelled Craig. Zahra had to clamp her hands over her earmuffs in response.

“You go to all the trouble to avoid saying it, and the app says it for you,” said Michelle, shaking her head. “I think I’m gonna go deaf now, too.”

“Nobody appreciates the classics,” said Craig, frowning.

Bryce: We need a fourth… Rosa?

Rosa: Sure, I’ll play!

“She looks familiar,” said Michelle. “Where have we seen her before?”

“The basketball game a few chapters ago! Remember?” said Sean.

“Wow, you’re right!” said Michelle, remembering the character’s previous appearance. “How’d you know?”

Sean smiled at her. “It was a sports scene, of course I’m gonna remember it,” he said, laughing.

“Ha. I should’ve guessed!”

Bryce: Alright, pick teams.

Play with…

“Uh, Bryce, duh,” said Quinn immediately when the choices appeared.

“Agreed,” said Estela. “Who else?”

“Wait, is Estela actually doing the vote? It’s the apocalypse! Again!” joked Diego.

Estela glared at him. “Look, just vote already,” she said. Ian, Quinn, Michelle, Diego, Sean, Alyssa, Zahra, and Raj all voted along with her. “Huh. Looks like I win.”

“I just hope this story doesn’t ask me to choose between Rafael and Bryce, or my heart would explode,” said Quinn as Michelle picked Bryce.

Bryce aims and shoots, sinking the right cup!

MC!Michelle: Nice! Now I just have to make the same one…

PING-PONG BALL: Pick up.

“Drink coffee, y’all,” said Jake.

“So we gotta pick ‘right!” said Craig.

“Craig, there isn’t even an option yet,” said Zahra as she sipped her coffee.

You shoot, aiming for…

Which cup do you aim for?

“See? Now there’s an option!” said Craig.

“Okay, Craig, this one’s all you,” said Michelle, picking the ‘right’ cup.

Bryce: We win! We win! You’re my hero!

“Chyeah!” shouted Craig.

“Nice job, Craig,” said Michelle.

“I’m tellin’ ya, if there’s a ball involved, I’m gonna kick ass!”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” said Zahra, “you’re not wrong.”

MC!Michelle: Hey, Sienna. Are you okay? Where’s Wayne?

Sienna: He had to go home. He works early in the morning, so…

“‘Cause crime doesn’t sleep, am I right?” said Diego.

“He’s not Batman!” said Michelle.

“I mean, he still could be Batman,” Ian pointed out.

“Thanks, Ian,” said Diego.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“Tell her how we really feel,” said Alyssa. “Who’s with me?”

“Wait, is this an actual vote?” asked Ian, confused.

“Oh my god, you idiot!” said Alyssa. “Of course it’s a vote!”

Ian laughed and shook his head. “Never change, Alyssa. Anyway, I agree.”

In addition to the twins, Michelle, Jake, Estela, Zahra, and Aleister all raised their hands. “Yes! I win!” crowed Alyssa, as Michelle went ahead and selected the choice in question.

Elijah: Sienna cleared it with Farley. We’re good until midnight.

MC!Michelle: ...which is in ten minutes.

“Ha, uh, whoops,” said Diego.

“Yes, it is prudent to think such things through,” said Aleister.

“Easy! Just clean everything up super fast,” said Raj.

“...That sounds easier said than done,” Michelle commented.

“Aw, it’s not that bad! You just have to get everyone to help out!”

“Like I said. Easier said than done.”

Elijah: I’m Michelle, and this is Elijah.

MC!Michelle: Other way around.

“Pfft, I’ve definitely done that before,” laughed Craig.

“Why am I not surprised?” said Zahra.

She smiles at Elijah as she slips past you into her apartment.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“Aww! Somebody’s got a crush!” squealed Quinn.

“Too cute,” agreed Grace. “They’d be an adorable couple! We should definitely encourage him. Aleister, want to take a vote?”

“What? Oh, right,” said Aleister, looking up from his phone suddenly.

“What were you looking at?” asked Michelle.

Aleister blushed. “Oh, nothing,” he said quickly.

Grace leaned over and looked at his phone. “Oh, he was looking up information about Batman!” she declared.

“Grace!” said Aleister, blushing furiously as he pulled his phone away from her view.

“Wait, that’s it?” asked Diego. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about! You know, if you want to know more about him, you can always ask me.”

“It’s just… well… you know,” stammered Aleister. “I quite dislike not knowing something. Even if it is about a fictional superhero who dresses like a bat.”

“Dark Knight marathon, anyone?” Diego asked the group. “Wait, Aleister, have you never seen the Dark Knight trilogy?”

“I have...erm… heard of it,” Aleister admitted.

“Oh, you are missing out! We are definitely having a Dark Knight marathon next get-together! For Aleister’s sake.”

Aleister looked like he was about to protest, but upon seeing Diego’s enthusiasm, his expression softened. “Ah, very well,” he said finally. “I suppose I might as well see what all the fuss is about.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to it already,” said Estela.

“I remember getting to see The Dark Knight in high school,” Grace told him. “I actually enjoyed it! I think you’ll have fun.”

“I am quite glad to hear it,” said Aleister. “I trust your recommendations.”

“Movie night! Yes!” shouted Diego excitedly.

“Alright, alright, next reunion we’re watching Batman movies. Can we continue the story already?” asked Michelle, frustrated.

“Party pooper,” complained Craig.

Michelle went to keep going with the story, but then stopped when she realized no one had voted on the choice yet. “Okay, voting time,” she said.

“What?” asked Ian, looking up from his in-depth Batman discussion with Estela and Diego. “Oh, uh… what was this choice about again?”

“My brother is an idiot,” groaned Alyssa. “It’s about… wait… uh… what was it about, again?”

“Epic fail,” laughed Jake.

“Shut up!”

“It was about Elijah’s crush on the girl who lives next door!” Michelle reminded everyone. “Now, are we gonna tease him or encourage him?”

“Encourage him, obviously!” said Quinn.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go with that, too,” said Sean. “Who else?”

Ian, Estela, Michelle, Raj, Diego, and Grace all raised their hands. “Nice, majority rules!” Michelle proclaimed, picking the ‘Encourage him’ option.

MC!Michelle: Don’t play dumb. She was flirting with you!

Elijah: She was just being friendly.

“Sounds like my brother, first time he met Estela,” snarked Alyssa. Ian threw a pillow at her in response.

Landry: You guys, it’s midnight! Why is everyone still here?

Jackie: It’s okay, Landry. The apartment’s not going to turn into a pumpkin.

“I understood that reference,” said Raj.

“I understood that reference to ‘I understood that reference,’” said Diego.

“I understood that I’m confused,” said Craig.

MC!Michelle: Oh! Hi, Farley!

Farley: What’s going on here? Mrs. Edelstein called with a noise complaint, dragged me away from watching Aliens Among Us.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“I mean, I feel like we’ve got everything under control,” said Michelle. “I say we fudge the truth.”

“I say we KILL THE BEAST!” quoted Diego randomly. Everyone stared at him. “...Sorry, the way you said that kinda sounded like… never mind.”

“Whatever. Who votes ‘fudge the truth?” asked Raj. Ian, Quinn, Estela, Diego, Sean, Aleister, and Grace all raised their hands to agree with him. “And ‘flat out lie?’” Zahra, Craig, Alyssa, Jake, and Michelle raised their hands. Raj took a moment to count up the votes. “Looks like ‘fudge the truth’ wins,’” he told Michelle, who picked the option in question.

Farley: Mrs. Edelstein’s such a damn whiner. Carry on! I’m going back to my show.

“Wow. That was easy,” said Zahra. “What a dumbass.”

“No kidding,” agreed Alyssa.

“To be fair, if I got interrupted while marathoning a show, I’d want to get back to it as soon as possible too,” Diego pointed out.

“Ha. True,” admitted Zahra. “Never underestimate the power of cliffhangers.”

Who do you talk to?

“Yes! Bryce, please,” said Quinn. “I was hoping for this!”

“It’s not a diamond scene, though,” Sean observed.

“It might be, eventually! I can dream, can’t I?”

“True,” admitted Estela, “though we haven’t had a scene with Jackie in a while, either.”

“Talk about a tough choice… who wants to take the vote?” asked Sean.

After a momentary silence, Michelle shrugged. “Sure, I’ll do it,” she said. “Who votes for Bryce?” Quinn, Jake, Diego, Zahra, and Grace all raised their hands along with Michelle herself; after a brief hesitation, Sean joined them as well. “Okay, and Jackie?” Ian, Alyssa, Estela, Raj, Craig, and Aleister voted. “Great, looks like Bryce wins!” Quinn smiled gratefully as Michelle chose Bryce.

As you hand Bryce an empty bottle to recycle, your hands graze each other. The touch lingers.

MC!Michelle: You know… you don’t have to go home.

“Awwwwww!” awwed Quinn. “I love it!”

“Diamond scene, please?” asked Diego eagerly.

What do you do?

“Yes! Totally called it!” shouted Alyssa excitedly. “Let’s do it!”

“Yes, please!” agreed Quinn.

“Definitely,” said Sean. “I mean, do we even need to vote at this point?”

“...Yes,” said Aleister bluntly.

Michelle sighed. “Okay, fine,” she said. “Who votes NOT Bryce?” Literally no one raised their hands, not even Aleister.

Sean raised his eyebrows at Aleister. “Like I said. Did we even need to vote?”

“Yes,” Aleister said again.

Michelle shook her head in amusement as she chose the diamond scene.

His hands cup your chin as he closes the door and presses you against it, kissing you slowly.

“Sexy music detected,” said Diego when the music changed. “I think we know what that means…”

“Definitely,” agreed Michelle.

Bryce: You are gorgeous and I need to see a whole lot more of you.

“Wow… is it hot in here, or is it just me?” asked Quinn.

“It’s definitely not just you, Quinn,” said Sean. “Bryce is… wow.”

“Yeah, how come you never say things like this, Jake?” asked Alyssa, shoving Jake playfully.

“...Cuz you’re deaf? I say that kinda stuff a lot, Princess!”

“Like when?”

“Last night, for one,” said Jake, winking at her.

Alyssa giggled. “Right! Remember? When we were-”

Ian interrupted them with exaggerated fake vomiting noises. “TOO. MUCH. INFORMATION,” he told the amorous couple.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, like you and Estela haven’t-”

“Alright, conversation over!” declared Estela suddenly. “Michelle. Please.”

After seeing the expression on Estela’s face, Michelle quickly grabbed the phone and continued the story without hesitation.

MC!Michelle: Wait… how am I nearly naked when you’re still dressed?

“That is a problem,” Diego agreed. “He should fix that problem.”

“Amen to that,” said Zahra. “That shirt belongs… somewhere else.”

Bryce: Better?

“So much better,” said Michelle with an appreciative whistle upon seeing Bryce shirtless.

“Seriously, about time!” agreed Diego.

“Diego, we saw him shirtless in his very first scene, remember?” Michelle reminded him. “How could you forget?”

“Oh, I didn’t forget… I just couldn’t wait to see him shirtless again, duh!”

“Makes sense to me,” said Quinn.

MC!Michelle: So much.

“Drink coffee, y’all,” said Jake. Everyone stared at him, confused. “...What? Her character reacted the same way she did for real!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot we had that rule!” said Raj.

Zahra glanced into her cup and made a face. “Damn, I’m out of coffee already,” she complained. “Be right back.”

“Yo, Z, while you’re up, could you make me some coffee too?” asked Craig as Zahra got up to head toward the kitchen. She flipped him off in response.

Bryce: Are you sure you want this?

MC!Michelle: …

“Uh, keep going, duh!” Alyssa blurted out.

“Is it weird that I’m jealous, but also kinda agreeing with you at the same time?” asked Jake.

“...A little bit, maybe?”

“Who will take the vote?” asked Aleister.

But to his dismay, Michelle went ahead and selected the ‘keep going’ option anyway. At his scowl, Michelle shrugged. “We all know it would’ve won anyway. I just saved us all some time. You’re welcome.”

“Hmph,” hmphed Aleister.

You groan as your phone alarm goes off, slapping at the nightstand until you find it and hit snooze.

“At least you didn’t hit the phone off the table, sending it flying into the wall and completely destroying the stupid thing so badly that it took me a week and a half to fix,” said Zahra as she walked back in from the kitchen.

Everyone stared at her. “That was… uh… weirdly specific,” said Sean.

“C’mon, to be fair, that phone was too loud!” argued Craig.

“Craig. It’s an ALARM. It’s supposed to be loud!” Zahra said.

“Not my fault I didn’t know that!”

“Where the hell did you learn… like, basic logic?!”

“Okay, moving on!” announced Michelle before this argument could escalate any further.

Elijah points to the couch, where Sienna and Danny are sound asleep, slumped beside each other in front of the T.V.

“Aww… that’s so cute!” said Quinn.

“Not gonna lie, it does sound adorable,” Michelle agreed.

MC!Michelle: Okay, that’s pretty adorable.

“Yep. You’re literally her,” laughed Jake.

“That is not what ‘literally’ means,” complained Aleister. “Unless, of course, you are implying that Michelle is actually a character in a mobile game, which is, quite frankly, ridiculous.” Then he frowned, staring momentarily into space. “Why on Earth am I suddenly picturing a crab? How absurd.”

Your Pager: Read the message.

“Hey, another one!” exclaimed Diego when the one-option choice appeared. “There haven’t been enough of those this chapter.”

“You’re right,” agreed Raj. “I feel like there’s less of them each chapter.”

“Fewer,” corrected Aleister.

“Okay, Stannis,” Diego joked.

Jake frowned. “Hey, I was gonna say that! You stole my reference!”

“Guess great minds think alike?”

Jake sighed and shook his head, amused in spite of himself. “I just can’t stay mad at you, Underdog.”

Aleister just looked back and forth between the two of them, completely bewildered, as Michelle went ahead and continued the chapter.

MC!Michelle: (A 9-1-1… for Mrs. Turner!)

“Oh no, not again!” said Quinn. “I hope she’s okay!”

“Don’t worry, she’ll definitely be fine,” Alyssa reassured her.

“Did you predict that? Was this another one of your time tricks?” asked Quinn curiously.

Alyssa laughed. “Nah. I just remembered there wasn’t a warning at the start of this chapter.”

“Huh. Didn’t think about that before. That makes sense, actually!”

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, realizing that Alyssa was probably right.

Danny: Body temp skyrocketing. She’s in AFib, her B.P.’s crashing, and she’s got a pulmonary edema!

“Aah! Too much science!” yelled Craig.

“Yep. All you, Michelle,” said Sean.

“Thanks. The choice should be no problem!” Michelle declared confidently.

MC!Michelle: (One… two…)

Michelle couldn’t help but laugh when the choice appeared. “Oh, sure, of course there’s only one option,” she said. “I was all prepared and everything!”

“Diego, I think you jinxed it,” laughed Ian. “The app must’ve heard you when you said there weren’t enough one-option choices!”

“I can believe it,” Diego replied as Michelle chose the only option available, ‘Three.’

Dr. Ramsey: Sounded like quite the litany of emergencies. Good work.

“Wait, did he just… did he just… compliment us?!” asked Grace, shocked.

“Holy shit, plot twist,” said Zahra.

“Of course he finally compliments us when we didn’t actually get to choose anything,” complained Michelle.

“Maybe he’s intentionally messing with you,” suggested Diego.

“Seeing as it’s Dr. Ramsey, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised…”

C.T. Scan: Pick it up.

“Yep, the app definitely heard you, Diego,” said Ian.

“Also, I think it knows we ain’t drinking this time,” added Jake. “It’s just throwin’ these things at us all of a sudden on purpose.”

“‘Choices: The App that Trolls You,’” suggested Diego. “How’s that for a better subtitle?”

MC!Michelle: (‘Patient X?’ What does that mean?)

“OH MY GOD, X-MEN CROSSOVER YES PLEASE?!” shouted Diego excitedly. “Patient X is totally a mutant! Calling it right now!”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” said Michelle.

Diego frowned. “I can dream, can’t I?”

“I kind of want you to actually write this crossover,” said Ian. “Batman, Ninja Turtles, and the X-Men?”

“...I’d read that,” admitted Grace.

“Really? You think so?” asked Diego. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

MC!Michelle: (What could Dr. Ramsey be hiding?)

“That he’s secretly a mutant! It’s so obvious!” said Diego, only half-joking.

“As much as that’s probably wrong,” said Michelle, “it is an interesting cliffhanger. Maybe it’s a celebrity! They usually hide famous people’s identities in medical records.”

“It’s the secret vampire president from the first chapter!” Raj blurted out. “Michelle, I think you’re onto something!”

“A vampire? That’s even less believable than Diego’s X-Men thing,” snarked Zahra.

“But it already happened in the first chapter!” argued Craig.

“She wasn’t actually a vampire, dumbass!”

“She totally was! C’mon, Z!”

As the two of them continued to bicker, Jake stood up and stretched. “Well, as long as the chapter’s over, I’m gettin’ a snack,” he announced. “Princess, want anything?”

“I kinda have a weird taste for popcorn, actually,” Alyssa told him. “Is there any left?”

Jake shrugged. “Guess I’ll find out.”

“I’m going for a run,” Estela said. “Ian?”

“Right beside you!” The two of them stood up and headed toward the entrance as the rest of the Catalysts started to disperse as well.

From the couch beside Diego, there was a sudden loud yawn, and Varyyn sat up, blinking and looking around the room. “Ah! Diego!” he said with a smile when he spotted his husband. “It seems I needed a brief nap after my run to Elyys’tel. Are we ready to begin the next chapter of the story, then?”

Diego scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Varyyn? I, uh, don’t know how to tell you this, but that was more than a ‘brief nap.’ You kinda… missed… the whole chapter.”

“Wait… what?!”

Next Chapter: Link

Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @marmolady @endlesssummerfan

#catalysts play choices #catalysts play open heart #choices open heart #choices stories you play #endless summer #fanfic #liveblog #...ish #michelle nguyen #quinn kelly #diego soto #varyyn #sean gayle #jake mckenzie #estela montoya #raj bhandarkar #furball #craig hsiao #zahra namazi #aleister rourke #grace hall #ian czasa #alyssa czasa #also i included a stealth reference to my estela fic #internet points to whoever spots it!

[savrenim]

To Stare Into Darkness: The Infestation Incident Of Black Lotus Labs

As Told By Four Letters Unsent, Three Letters Sent, And The Official Report Drafted By Acolyte Consecrate Iria Strell

For those of you who have been following the gay murder elf bachelorette campaign (official title, In Their Footsteps We Shall Follow) (or have not been following but have become interested considering the number of memes I've been spanning of Book 5 of it), it has the backstory and narrative crafting of a full series of novellas more than a DnD campaign, and the fourth book recently came to its magnificent conclusion. (hence the Book 5 memes). Which means, of course, that I have to write a novella about it.

gay murder elf bachelorette tells the story of Iria Strell, a Caedic elf and solid villain of this setting considering the Caedic Empire is an aggressively expansionist empire whose magic is fueled and religion is centered around blood sacrifice. It is equal parts Iria Strell being evil doin’ her cool evil things and Iria Strell falling in love with every pretty girl who crosses her path, so a lot of fun.

there exists a Book 2 and a Book 3 summary as well, if you haven’t read them either feel free to read them or just have fun here with context clues, this one stands alone pretty well and is a lot more readable than the others because I had to actually seriously think about what parts of it made a Good Story out of the....nearly 33 hours of recording that were made of the six chapters. and I think a Good Story did come out! so if you’re willing to stick with me, boy do I have a wild ride for you consisting of: friendship, gayness, twisted emotions of wondering if you’re good enough, coping with the slow loss of mobility from an old injury while adjusting to civilian life, mad science, more gayness, and the friends you make and bonds you forge while dealing with a surprise zombie-coral-crystal-parasite-fungus attack together at your mad science lab.

(tw very mild body horror-- third paragraph of the first (unsent) letter to Talvus, midway through second to last paragraph of the first (unsent) letter to Maldai Varricon, and third paragraph of the official report. also a mild amount of stabbing scattered throughout, but this came from DnD so what do you expect, and a large amount of stabbing in the final battle, which hopefully should be fairly obvious when it begins, also in the official report.)

_______________________

Dear Talvus,

There’s no way I’m going to send this letter, considering you disappeared without saying goodbye, let alone leaving a mailing address; but I’ve been stuck in bed for three days with a broken leg and am supposed to stay put for another two, which means I’ve really got nothing better to do than write.

So I left for Black Lotus Labs, in Insul. I work for the Department of the Craftsman now. I’m a junior researcher in Summer Division, which I was a little confused about at first, considering Winter Division is the Division doing all of the research regarding developments for the Army, but it immediately became very clear that I was assigned to Summer. I’m like a dragon amongst lizards—a scientist, not someone in the guard division, but who has active combat experience. The expedition that I was assigned to certainly was dangerous enough to merit that, hence the broken leg, although the fight with the dryad may have been the least dangerous part.

There’s something here called the Misery. It’s strange and fascinating—not magical in and of itself, we don’t think, just a stage in the life cycle of the moths. It starts out as a cloud of thick mist, although you can see the maggots on the trees before you get to the mist proper. The maggots materialize on color, and leech it away to a stark white. That’s why we had to wear these large, unwieldy full-body suits with a breathing apparatus and mask that filtered air through black cloth; otherwise, the maggots would form in our lungs. They eventually transform into moths, which eat flesh. Very unpleasant, but not particularly deadly, they don’t travel in large numbers and they die when you swat them same as normal moths.

But what the Misery was caused by—well, we call it the Catalyst. It was an artifact in some ancient temple; Talvus, the temple alone is something worthy of years of study. It had working magical wards in the walls and the floors, and it must have been abandoned for centuries. Think of what we could do if we could store spells in objects—powerful spells—that showed little to no decay, that activated on a trigger without needing a mage to activate them.

(I know, my motives are painfully clear. Can’t let the mages have all the fun. One day technology will catch up with you, just you wait.)

But the temple—two or so years back, an expedition found it, and they found the Catalyst in the center of it. They did something, and it exploded. Lux Maelius, our Senior Research Lead, and Ovir Arbutus, a Research Lead now but he was only a guard at the time—they were the only two survivors, because they were outside in a courtyard when it happened. So they managed to make it out. Then there was a hurricane of magical energy that raged for months, then it settled down into the Misery.

We set up makeshift labs in the heart of the Misery, near the ruins. We spent a few days studying it, running tests. I was able to figure out some things about Green magic and life magic that might be adaptable into better healing potions. Two researchers joined us partway—Vennikus, you remember her from when she visited us on the front?, and a friend of hers, Chaera Canth. I tried to jump in a little bit on some of the bugswarm intelligence projects Vennikus was doing, because it seemed slightly more exciting than staring at mist, but I was making more progress staring at mist so eventually I went back to that. This sort of research isn’t really my forte and I was thrown right in with barely an hour to drop my stuff off in my rooms before I was told the expedition was leaving, and I was informed about the Misery as we walked through it. It’s not like it was a waste of time, by any means. I did contribute some things. Suggest some experimental setups. But the real reason we were here became evident when Arbutus and Lux started arguing. Arbutus wanted us to bring the Catalyst out of the Misery, so that it could properly be studied. We took a vote on who would be willing to risk themselves to fetch it. I, of course, volunteered. I know she said why would you seek it, but, well, the Wolf said that to the both of us together and you weren’t here. Besides, it was Serae that was half blown off the map, not Insul.

So we went into the ruins and we set up another makeshift lab around the Catalyst. It is not particularly impressive in appearance: a large, dark, opaque crystal, perhaps the size and shape of a forearm, floating above the pedestal. More notable was how it felt, even to me, rooms away. Like something was just off. Like that twinge in your stomach right before you get nauseous, and it only got stronger the closer we got. And if that was my reaction, well, I’m sure you’d hate it. It has these sparks that seem to interact in my favorite way with life and magic and the stability of energy, namely, by exploding. We’ve tested it against leaves and small bugs—it will annihilate them completely. Felt a little bit dangerous to be doing all the tests considering we weren’t sure what made it explode into the Misery in the first place, but we managed to conclude “don’t let it touch living things and it won’t explode too much.” And we had to, in order to properly design the container to take it back. Arbutus argued and won that we couldn’t just leave it. We made a makeshift case and packed it up with the rest of our stuff to head back to the main labs.

The dryad attacked us a little bit after we got out of the Misery, so at least we could breathe properly again and had the suits half off. It made these golems that went for the carts, but we had three other ex-military folks of some kind or another on the expedition, so I left them to deal with that and leapt straight into the grove of trees and thorns that it summoned around itself, and then we just…fought it out. I was close, I was so close to taking it down. But it got a really good hit in that cracked my femur and then decided it wasn’t worth it and booked it, and delivering the Catalyst to Black Lotus Labs was more important than going after a single native resistance fighter. Although I still have no idea whether or not it was attacking us for the fun of attacking us, because we’re Caedic and this island has decided it hates all things Caedic, or if it actually knew something about the Catalyst. I tried asking it—her, maybe?—you know how chatty I get when fighting—but I’m pretty sure she didn’t speak our language, as all she did was scream incomprehensibly back at me. So now I’m here after my first successful week sitting around in the med bay with a philosophy book Vennikus brought me and some security reports and a couple of interesting research papers, killing time until I’m allowed up and about and back to the labs where I can start working on the healing potions and merging of Green magic and ritual magic properly.

Let’s see, what else is there. I’ve been making friends. There’s Arbutus, who first told me that I didn’t need to act all formal because we weren’t in as strict a hierarchy as the military when I gave him a whole rundown before the expedition about my combat abilities and drawbacks and what I’d be like in a fight because I let Silvanus down when we were attacked on the way from the ships to the labs by a satyr—Saren according to the report the guards here have on him—and these great terrible lizards called dinosaurs he had gathered, because I fainted when I shouldn’t have. After the fight where I kicked all their asses but, well. I still went down. So Silvanus has seen me faint but she was on the “let’s get the Catalyst” side and does seem to at least give me credit for my skills. She has a spear, she’s really cool. I’m still really gay. I think she thinks I’m cool. Please don’t make fun of my attention span. Anyways, Arbutus might be mad at me because a few days after his whole speech about there being no ranks here I gave a fairly impassioned rant in front of the whole expedition about how if we were going to bring the Catalyst out, we couldn’t bring it back to the labs, a separate bunker had to be made until we knew what made it explode or we’d be putting all the Empire’s research at risk, and he told me that first of all, I was right and they’d build a bunker, and second, okay there still kind of were ranks here and I should never speak to him like that again. 

Who else. Vennikus is here, and possibly flirting with me. She has a friend, as I mentioned, Canth, so hopefully that’ll go over fine, Canth seems to tolerate me without any problems. And I met Lia Bassus and Talia Aurelia on the ship over, Lia Bassus is trying to do magical transportation and so came with us into the Misery, and Talia’s working on this project that looks into other planes. As in entirely other realities superimposed over our own. There's this weird strange grey realm that she showed me, (perhaps the Arcane Other?), and though it was full daylight when she ran the experiment, through the window of the little room her team had cobbled together, I could see the distant stars of a different sky. Neither her nor Lia Bassus seemed particularly impressed by my altar when I mentioned it on the boat, so I’m pretty sure I’m not at all exceptional for what the expected level of creativity and craftsmanship is here. I guess I’ll be joining everyone for normal day-to-day research as soon as this leg heals.

I miss you, a lot. I hope you’re having just as much fun as me, wherever you are. Hopefully not with the broken leg. Still, totally worth it.

Love, Iria

———

Dear Talvus,

So I work in Winter Division now. Remember Galen Torus? The Exarch who was there when we were presenting the delayed explosive designs to Professor Acari? He showed up and requested me and just me for a special secret Winter Division project. And then promoted me to Senior Researcher on the spot because he was annoyed that I wasn’t being immediately given full access to things for the project because of my Junior Researcher status, which is one way to climb the ranks here, I guess.

There was this…mechanical contraption, found wrecked in the jungle. Some sort of war machine, we think. It looks like a humanoid—it has arms, and legs—but its interior entirely consists of clockwork. Galen and I have spent a few days examining it and nothing magical animated it. It’s just metal. But it moved and it fought and we’re going to figure out what made it tick.

He says that this work is of upmost importance to the Empire, and he’s stayed at the labs to work on it himself, but he still hasn’t pulled anyone but me for the project. I don’t know if it’s because it’s more efficient to work alone, or if the project is more secret than it appeared to be, or if I’m more useful at these kinds of things than I thought. Mechanics make sense to me.

I’ve been working as hard as I can to try not to disappoint him. I stay in the labs the entire day, except unlike you, I grab extra rations at breakfast so I can go through lunch without skipping the actual eating part. I hope that you’re remembering to eat.

Love, Iria

———

Dear Talvus,

So everything’s gone to shit, as it does.

It was just another normal day at the labs, and then the dryad and the satyr and a whole bunch of dinosaurs made the first actually organized attack. Galen and I were working on the construct when it happened. We heard it first. I had a prototype of a weapon from the construct that I was able to strap on in time for the first dinosaur that burst into the room, which at this point I was very efficient in dispatching of. Then the dryad that came after it, which I had a bit harder of a time dealing with. I fought it to a standstill, but it wasn't enough without a proper pair of weapons to gain any sort of upper hand, and all it took was a stumble for the thing to slip past me and attack Galen. I stared in horror as blood spurted from him and he was pushed backwards—only he didn't fall, and the blood didn't flow, it condensed into the shape of a sword and he flicked it out and it cut with no resistance through a large portion of the dryad's hand. She stepped back, in shock, and then turned and fled. Galen turned to me, his back straight, his face hard, his eyes bright. He tossed me the sword. I caught it.

"Finish it," he said.

I grinned and turned to chase the thing.

The rest was...it was both crystal clear and a blur to me, Talvus. I've never gone so deep, so cold, there was something bubbling inside of me like some sort of rage, a perfect insanity. The only thing that remained in my mind were Galen Torus's orders, echoing, Finish it. I know that this sounds like...like there was some sort of compulsion associated with those words, but there wasn't. It's just—he's been this untouchable, unreachable figure. I've worked with him day in and day out for over a month and I haven't been able to get any sort of read on him, or on whether he thinks my work has at all been adequate. I was so ready, Talvus. I was so ready to be responsible, to stay and guard the construct, to admit that it was no longer my role to bring enemies of the Empire to the sharp end of my blade. But in my heart of hearts, I wanted to fight. And there was Galen Torus, showing the closest thing I had seen to an emotion from him in the vicious tilt of his smile, throwing me a sword made of his own blood and ordering me to do the one thing that I wanted to do more than anything else.

In that moment, I would have done anything for him.

I tore through two—maybe three?—of the smaller raptors sprinting along the destruction the dryad had left in its wake. They barely slowed me down. I was getting to a part of the facility that I was unfamiliar with. The dryad's path led to a larger open room with cots, almost like a medical bay, which was strange, because there already was a medical bay and not really enough people getting hurt here day to day to need another. Some guards were off in one corner fighting off more dinosaurs. The dryad was in the other corner, and I lurched forwards, ready to Finish it, when someone in Senior Research Lead robes and a cane got absolutely mauled by one of the larger dinosaurs across the other entrance. I absolutely would not have cared, except with one motion of his hand he magicked his guts back together, finished speedwalking across the room, threw healing on me (which in hindsight, was much appreciated), then wheezed, "I trust from the look on your face that you're rather more of a fighter than I am. I'm going to stand behind you now, if you don't mind."

I absolutely did mind, there was now a very large dinosaur between me and my intended target, but it seemed rude to abandon the Senior Research Lead right after he'd healed me, and besides, the combination of his rank and the power he'd so casually wielded made me think that there was a slight chance that he was an Exarch too, and I couldn't risk disobeying an Exarch's orders. So I tore through the dinosaur in four angry hits, and then as there were no more dinosaurs on my side of the room, abandoned the maybe-Exarch in the corner and finally closed the last of the distance to attack the dryad.

It was a difficult fight. But it—she—could not stand against me now that I was properly armed, and certainly not with the maybe-Exarch throwing magic of every kind at me to strengthen me as I cut her to pieces. And then, as I could still feel that strength roaring in my blood, I caught sight of the satyr Saren halfway up the wall on the other side of the room and just charged him. I had to jump, leveraging myself up a wall to reach him and I plunged the sword into his gut, impaling him. He lost his grip on the wall and the two of us slammed into the ground, driving my—Galen's—blade even deeper into him. He pushed up, scrambled back, tried to run away, and had his back to me, a cowardly death, as I whipped Galen's sword around again and decapitated him. It gets a bit hazy after. I'm pretty sure I charged the remaining live dinosaurs across the room, but at that point I'd put Bishops know how much strain on my injury, and I blacked out.

I awoke in the same room, on one of the cots, with the Senior Research Lead standing over me. Up close I could see he was nowhere near as old as I'd assumed; the cane was some sort of tool of the trade. Looking at his face, he couldn't be much older than you.

He spoke first.

"I must say, you might be the best person to hide behind in a fight that I've ever met. It doesn't really take much hiding when everything goes down in a spray of blood in a matter of seconds."

I wasn't quite sure what to say back, so I just replied, "Happy to be of service."

"You should be fine to stand. I've fixed all your injuries, and that old wound, well, your muscles have cleared for the moment. It's been long enough that they've unlocked."

His robes were still in tatters, and there were bodies of guards and dinosaurs still in the room, so not much time could have passed. His wounds were totally healed, although with his robes in pieces instead of buttoned up higher than most people around here wear them, a huge, roughly circular scar across his throat was visible, which would explain the wheeze. He helped me up.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Iria Strell," I said. It felt weird to introduce myself without rank, but what was I supposed to say? My robes denoted me as Senior Researcher. Consecrated Acolyte—right, Galen Torus consecrated me, I guess he decided that I'd done enough work—still, Consecrated Acolyte didn't really seem to apply, we didn't really...go by clergy rank here. Even though it's been months since we left the Army, I settled with, "I was a Corporal Specialist before here." I guess old habits die hard.

He wasn't wearing enough jewelry for me to judge where in the nobility he would lie, and the Black Lotus Labs uniforms don't include pips on the collars, so I had no idea where in the clergy he ranked, but he was wearing gold, so he was nobility, which meant no matter what I was bowing, and he'd been throwing around a ridiculous amount of power so even if he was too young to be an Exarch, well—he'd totally saved my hide, so I went with the deepest waist bow. I know you don't care, but then he said:

"Qaedius Galseii."

Galseii.

I had nearly snubbed someone Bishop family and had just... luckily guessed that I should do the most respectful possible bow that someone from my station would give someone from a station above me because he'd been good at healing and I didn't recognize that he was Bishop family and just. Thank the Bishops, Talvus, I nearly snubbed a Galseii, I know you really really couldn't care less but that moment was more terrifying to me than the entirety of the fight had been, in an instant of ignorance I could have made enemies of someone who now I think has a great deal of professional respect for me from the abilities that I demonstrated and I didn't because I was lucky enough to guess that hey, maybe I should show more respect than might be necessary to someone with such powerful magic. Well. It was really fucking necessary.

(We've actually been professional acquaintances since, I made the mistake in our second interaction when he politely asked me about how I was and I thought he meant my research not how I was healing and I got overly excited when delving into an explanation of the mechanics of the hand razors, because the hand razors are cool! which he shut down with an "oh just because I'm personal with my patients as my patients doesn't mean we should be overly familiar in any other context" and I just wanted to die but I held my tongue and apologized at the end of the conversation with a "sorry I just get super excited about research" and I think he indicated that he understood and Talvus, it is a snakepit ever having to interact with any other noble ever. I'm bad at this. I'm bad at it and I hate it. But at least I don't think I messed this one up. And either way, I'm still the best person to hide behind in a fight that he's ever met. Haven't lost that yet.)

But anyways. Woke up in the cot, not dead. Qaedius continued, "And, well, I don't know what lab policy regarding this information is going to be going forward, but now that you're conscious, it's probably best if you left Spring Division."

Which I suppose answered the question of where I was. We have a secret Spring Division, not just Summer, Autumn, and Winter. How fun is that!

Things have settled down again. I couldn't move at all the next day because of the strain I'd put on my injury, but the day after I was walking again. I went back to research with Galen. Well, of course, because I couldn’t not, I asked Galen as politely as I could where he learned to make a sword like that from his blood and where I might try to learn it because I would never assume that I could ask him to teach me but maybe if I knew where I could study it I could figure it out on my own. He said it was a technique that only he and the person who developed it—a mysterious her—knew, so it wasn’t something I’d be able to learn or find easily. I thought it that was that, and then I came the next morning to find him clearing tools off of tables. I was worried for a moment that our project had ended; I asked if he was leaving, and he said no, this was maybe the most important work we could be doing for the Empire, just that he needed the space if he was going to teach me. Which just flabbergasted me of what, I was worth an hour off of the most important work we could be doing for the Empire? We’ve been practicing ever since. It’s hard, I can barely make my blood take a shape, let alone reach the metallization stage, but maybe one day I’ll be able to make a sword out of my own blood. Never catch me unarmed at a party again.

And now things are back to normal around here. The rhythms of research. Spring Division, which was entirely secret, has been joining us in the mess hall considering most to all of their buildings were destroyed, and now they’re somewhat less secret but we’re all quietly pretending we don’t notice for the time being and until someone higher up decides what to do about the whole involuntarily declassified thing. I’m working with Galen every day on the construct. Qaedius usually sits with me at meals. As I said, professional acquaintance, but an acquaintance enough that I can talk about my research sometimes because he's actually sitting with me and that is the only thing that is discussed at tables because we're all nerds. Vennikus thought that it was very impressive that I fought as well as I did. She always sits with me. It’s fine. Everything is fine. I wish it were fine.

It took me a day before I could walk again, Talvus. I couldn’t get up the morning after. I can walk again now but it feels worse. Like something in my back has torn. All I can think of is there’s going to be a fight that’s going to be the last time I’m able to fight in any serious capacity, I don’t know when it’s going to be, I’m probably not going to know until after the fact, I just…it feels like I should be weighing every battle I go into with an “is this worth it, is this worthy of being the very last time I’m ever able to fight,” and under that scrutiny a dryad and a satyr that the guard could have dealt with themselves—I don’t know if it was worth it. I don’t want this to be the last time I ever fight. That Galen is wasting his time on me teaching my how to shape my blood into a weapon because how much longer am I going to be able to use weapons? What would you do, if you knew that every spell that you cast might be the last needle you had the power left to thread? How would you…stay you? How do I stay me when the one thing that I was really good at, the one thing that I ever really wanted to do, is not only irresponsible for me to keep doing, but one day it’s just…going to be gone. I don’t know if I can handle it being gone.

I’ve been doing some pretty fantastic science, though. I keep developing things. The hand razors I mentioned. Qaedius didn’t think it was cool. You probably wouldn’t care much either, but the mechanical contraption we found, it had weapons hidden in its arms. I’ve been able to make modifications to these bracers with hidden blades in them, combat spurs that I can use for interception and different vectors of movement. It’s…it feels like hope. This thing has to move so much differently than we move, it weighs so much more, but if I can adapt bits of its structure, maybe I can come up with a different fighting style. One that I’d be able to keep at, even as more and more bits of me start to fail. There are all the official parts of my projects that I’m working on. Trying to make mechanical magic and all that. But I can keep hoping for an entirely new way of approaching combat in the spare time that I have.

I bet Lex will think that my hand razors are cool. He actually answers my letters. He actually told me where to send letters in the first place. You better not be dead.

Love, Iria

———

To Vilum Lex Department of the Doctor Veteris

Dear Lex,

You’ll never guess who showed up out of the blue today. Our mage friend. The big dummy, he didn’t warn me he was coming, I don’t even think he knew I was here. I still missed him so much that I can’t  be mad at him. I totally rescued him from some raptors before he even got to the lab proper, so things are back to normal. Just as stressful sitting next to him wondering who he’s going to terribly offend today, although he’s high up enough in the pecking order that I no longer have to worry about him getting in too much trouble for it. And he’s doing what he always does. He immediately jumped onto Talia’s project just hearing it described at lunch—still partially bleeding from wildlife ambush wounds, mind you, but hey, at least he was eating lunch—elbowed his way in past the project supervisor to run his own test and impressed absolutely everyone by pulling a breakthrough out of thin air. And didn’t get in trouble because it was such a great breakthrough. It’s like something has been righted in the world, I can breathe freely again, I know that he’s alive and well and still…him, and he’s back next to me.

So you’ve got to take my side on this, you appreciate sharp pointy things. I have made these absolutely revolutionary bracers that look perfectly normal, you could probably even get them to look decorative, I’m working on a new pair with lined backsides so you can’t even immediately tell if someone takes them off to examine them what the payload is, and all it takes is a directed wrist gesture and out pops a concealed, specially sharpened blade. No one here cares. And then our mutual mage friend got here and he also could not see the appeal of it other than oh, another sharp thing! Like, does he have any idea how much work went into miniaturizing the mechanical contraption to get that all to fit in a bracer? And the spring-loading, in a manner that you don’t have to take it apart to re-load it? And the way you have to temper the metal so that it’s just as strong as a conventional blade, and the attachment mechanisms of the bracer have to be such that it’s just as steady as if it were something that’s being held the way you hold weapons, which let me tell you, was a non-trivial problem to solve. And did I mention I came up with a new sharpening technique? Which I’ve been applying to everything, including the hand razor blade. That’s cool, right, and useful? It’s already saved my life once because the corridors here are too small for it to be reasonable for me to carry around a pair of scimitars all the time, but bracers are easy to just wear and don’t interfere with range of motion when doing research and anyone who thinks I’m paranoid can tell that to the trail of dead dinosaurs and Fae I’ve been carving through here. But you think they’re cool, right? Please tell me you think it’s cool. I am surrounded by scientists who only appreciate things that stab when it’s all that’s between them and toothy death, but it is objectively cool. I will show you my new knife-sharpening technique if you tell me you think it’s cool.

Unfortunately, Vennikus and I haven’t gotten any further in testing the health potion, but I do think it’s still an active project? I’d have to check with her, I’ve been moved to another division. Actually, I’ve been working on another project that might eventually make its way to the Department of the Doctor, there are these mechanical seals that are a bit hard to prepare, but once you’ve got them prepped it’s foolproof, slap them on a wound and they’ll automatically deploy: it’ll both physically bind to the body and act as a bandage, as well as it imparts magical healing. I haven’t had time to test them in the field yet but I’m pretty proud of them, they’ve worked in all the lab trials I’ve run. I’m working to try to develop them further, make them easier to store, easier to prepare, less expensive to prepare, that sort of things. Right now the design includes rubies, and I don’t think there’s an easy way to get rid of that without disrupting the energy flow of the whole thing, but, of course, that’s a significant barrier to mass production. If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.

I hope things have continued going well for you. Let me know if there’s any interesting Capital gossip. It’s all very quiet here, everyone is extremely friendly and gets along with no drama whatsoever, because drama would be a distraction from research; which is great, it means no petty fighting that gets in the way of progress, but I hate being out of the loop. I spent three years in the Army being out of the loop, I have so much catching up to do.

With sincerity, Iria Strell

———

To Celsus Strell The Strell Estate Veteris

Dear Celsus,

I refuse to fall out of contact with you just weeks after I finally got to see you again. Black Lotus Labs is a touch far for visiting, and I’m doing such important work here so I’m not sure the next time I’m going to be home—which means letters it is. I’m a Senior Researcher already. And a Consecrated Acolyte. I am doing absolutely fascinating research here, a lot with military applications, because of course, that’s my specialty, but we’re not really supposed to talk about research much.

But by the Bishops you would not believe how much drama has been going down.

So there’s a researcher here—well, I guess technically she’s an Instigator, she is in charge of starting new projects, she was a Senior Researcher when I met her out when I was in the Army—there was a Fae font that we discovered while mapping out land near the Surrian border, and she came to take samples, and we hit it off, killed a Fae construct together, and I made a joke about if she had any more potions that she wanted to test in the field, well, I’d be happy to test them for her because she gave me a really cool potion that let me shoot fire from my eyes while we fought the thing and then even though it was totally a joke and that was not a good week for trying to get Arcadia to laugh at my jokes, anyways I joked that if she had any other potions I was happy to be a test subject and she just…handed me another potion she’d been working on and said yeah great I should write and tell her what it does. So I guess it did kind of fall flat. The joke. The potion worked great, it helped me and Talvus get a lot less injured than we might have when we were ambushed by a party of Rat Clan orcs coming back from the Highlands. Anyways, I wrote to her and she wrote back and I wrote to her again and she sent me this really cool beetle that let me see magic that was absolutely instrumental in trying to test my altar designs and she was just a really good friend, so I was excited that I was going to be at Black Lotus Labs because even if everything else was horrible, at least I was going to have one friend here, right? Vennikus Callo, my brand new friend. Right?

Wrong.

Well sort of right, I’m pretty sure we are friends, she was waiting by my bedside for me to wake up after I broke my leg in a fight with a dryad and she lent me her favorite philosophy book to read so that we could talk about philosophy together and she’d said that she was really glad that I was a researcher even though she originally thought I was here as a guard because she thought I was smart and could do a lot of good doing research here and she was actively nice to me in all of our written exchanges before I got here, like, really really nice, she didn’t have to be, I was just the soldier that led her to the Fae font and did my job of stabbing the thing that tried to attack her and nothing remarkable beyond that. And then here I was an entry-level scientist with absolutely no background in magic or higher schooling, and she still finds me interesting and wants to spend time with me. Which makes us friends. I think. It’s sometimes so hard to tell, I guess I still have trouble trusting if people really are my friend. But I’m pretty sure that Vennikus Callo is my friend. Actually, I think people don’t really make friends too much here, they don’t tend to socialize out of their research groups, but I’ve been pulling anyone and everyone who wants to come to morning practice to either spar with me or I’ll teach them how to spar—so I’ve gathered Talia Aurelia, whom I met on the ship ride over and has been a morning practice and mealtime buddy ever since, Vennikus, of course, Alexis Corinthian, who is great and ex-Army so by default the most reliable to spar with—and then the breakfast table is sometimes joined by Chaera Canth and some friends from another department, which I think means that my table is the single most cross-divisional table in the mess hall. It’s a really great table. Plenty of friendly acquaintances to go around for everyone.

Anyways. Vennikus Callo. I don’t know how to describe her to you. She’s really sharp, and has an incredible wit. Her memory is insane, she can recite entire passages from books and I’ve seen her listen to information being recited at her and have it down all in one go. She’s really good at fighting, she practices with me sometimes, and she’s holding back, I can tell. Maybe not a trained soldier, but she’s fast. And she just…holds herself with this poise. She conducts herself in a manner around the labs that seems…approachable. Amiable. Easy to work with. But there are tiny bits and places where you can tell that is a conscious choice, that she would have no trouble navigating the highest circles of nobility; I suppose she just does not see it necessary, or perhaps not efficient, to run a lab like that. She is an incredible project manager. She’s actually made a couple of jokes about starting projects in areas that I have expressed interest in, which on the one hand I do think they would be interesting projects but on the other hand I was too busy at the time to jump on anything else, and it felt a little bit like trying to use my friendship to get an advantage, which, also, while she technically wasn’t my personal supervisor when I was in Summer Division—that was kind of Canth, we were partners on a project but I was the Junior and she was the Senior Researcher—but she was still kind of my superior. Although there totally was a time where I had just figured out this way to combine Caedic blood magic and Green magic in this ritual that drained the life force from a plant and then could be used for various things and we were all talking about it at dinner and she seemed really really interested in it and I was like “listen, why don’t I show you, it’s only half an hour or so” and she was like “right now? after dinner?” and I was like “unless you have evening plans?” because there are usually a few hours after dinner before sleeping and people don’t always go back to their labs and she said great and we finished eating dinner and were heading out of the mess hall and she was like “sooooo….my room?” and I was like “oh does your room have plants in it? because we need a plant?” and we just. stared at each other for a moment. As I realized that I was a fucking idiot and Vennikus was definitely interested in me and I’d just been propositioned to and Vennikus realized that I had been 100% serious about just showing her the plant thing and hadn’t been propositioning to her. And it was terrible and before I could say “your room is also fine” she said “right, we should probably do the lab.” Which she also really was interested in the plant thing, we went to the lab, she only had to see me do it once before she was able to reproduce it herself which was pretty incredible and it was definitely not an evening wasted, we both had fun.

So I ended up transferring to another division and for a while I was taking meals in the mess hall less, like, just grabbing food at breakfast to take me through lunch and then a late dinner from the kitchens, which meant we were only really seeing each other at morning practices, I hold those before breakfast. Still can’t shake that Army scheduling of rising with the sun. Anyways, so Vennikus was coming to a number of those, and there was a blood magic thing that my….supervisor? mentor, maybe? —okay this is a total aside, but there’s an Exarch who took interest in me during the Trials at first because of a delayed explosive that Talvus and I developed but then he said that he looked forward to what I was going to do with my altar so I had to do something cool with my altar which was most of the reason why instead of just trying to design a functional altar I designed an altar with bronze needles physically threaded with blood that could cast arcane magic—and I’m pretty sure that he was the one who got me the job at Black Lotus Labs. Apparently it’s not that common around here to get recruited directly after passing the Trials. I guess I showed enough promise? He also had me transferred from Summer division because there was a project he wanted me working on and I’ve been working under him and it’s—it’s great. I’m doing so much more here than I was doing before. It’s just the two of us on this project, and we’ve made so much progress. I couldn’t be more exhilarated. I am serving the Empire here possibly more meaningfully than I have served anywhere else in the entirety of my life, and that’s what matters, you know? I just can’t help but feel that I owe everything in my career to this Exarch. I wouldn’t have done anything special with my altar if it weren’t for him encouraging me, I wouldn’t be here at Black Lotus Labs if I hadn’t been noticed by the Department of the Craftsman for that even if he didn’t specifically recommend me for the job, he was the impetus behind the altar and that had to be what got me noticed. And I was…mediocre at best in my previous division. And now I’ve been promoted to a Senior Researcher and I’m working on something that I’m really, really good at but I wouldn’t have been pulled for this project if he hadn’t specifically pulled me. At least in the Army with Varricon once it became obvious that they were going to keep me in their unit, well—Maldai was Dad’s friend. And I knew what they were training me for, to be a tactician, to continue a career in the Army. I have no idea what this Exarch has singled me out for, or if I’ve even been singled out as much as it was just I was the person at the facility who had the most relevant skillset and was working on the least important things and none of it is supposed to mean anything. But it still sort of feels like he’s mentoring me. Let’s stick with my supervisor because it’s safer and that bit I’m sure about. So— there was a piece of blood magic that my supervisor gave me to practice, mostly to build up my skills because I’m not particularly experienced in that regard, and I was just getting up a quarter of an hour early to practice exercises on that before morning practice. And Vennikus, who didn’t always come to morning practice, did start coming to those because she’s good at blood magic because she’s good at everything and just. She was there to give me tips and spot me, I guess, make sure I didn’t mess up horribly and hurt myself. I was using my own blood, after all. Anyways it was just one morning like any other and we were going through the exercises and Vennikus said, “Hey. Strell. We should hook up.”

And so of course my concentration breaks and there’s blood on the floor and I tried to play it all cool and I think I said something like, “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

And then she maybe said “Great” back and all I could think of was how utterly ridiculous and not suave I was sounding so I tried to re-gain control of the situation by, like, leaning back against the wall to look cool and I tried to say “your room or mine?” except my blood was still on my floor and it was slippery and I definitely slipped in it and fell flat on my ass. And she just. Came over and looked at me. And said “you know, if I weren’t already decided on the matter, you wouldn’t be doing a very good job at convincing me right now.” And I just sat there gaping in a pile of my own blood until Talia came in the room for morning practice and Talia was like “what happened?” and I was just. Still staring after Vennikus and had a moment of oh shit, what do I do, because I had no idea how public Vennikus wanted to be, and I had no idea what Talia’s feelings for me were either, like, I think I’m her closest friend? Outside of my morning practice and thus meal group, I don’t really see her interacting much with anyone? and I wasn’t really sure what my feelings for her were because, like. She’s a really sweet person. A bit shy. Really passionate about her work. And we’d gotten close. Just, I knew Vennikus and I knew I really liked Vennikus and Vennikus just…has this way of being so bright and sharp and multifaceted and makes everyone look graywashed in her wake. But also I…my feelings towards Vennikus weren’t really the romantic sort? Just. She was someone who was already my friend. And I already liked. And she is really really hot.

So I didn’t want to hurt Talia’s feelings but I also didn’t want to lie to Talia, you know? So I just kind of. Kept staring after where Vennikus had left, and then finally got out, “it’s fine, I’m just a gay mess” because that was vague enough that it didn’t actually pin anything to Vennikus if she didn’t want to be associated with me but it was also entirely the truth. And Talia stared at me, and then turned and looked to the corridor Vennikus had gone down, and then turned to me again, and said, “Oh,” and I really couldn’t read the expression on her face but at least she didn’t look….actively upset? And then we just continued morning practice and it was fine.

Oh, the answer was Vennikus’s room, which led to my second big question of so am I supposed to dress up and try at all to look pretty, or do I just go right after I get out of the lab in my uniform and not care? And I was really torn because I have been given solid advice from several sources that I should really try harder to actually look like a noble and bother caring about my appearance, but also, we were all really busy researchers and was Vennikus going to care whether or not I bothered to waste my time and hers trying to put on makeup and I decided screw it, Vennikus had known me for a few months, she knew what a complete mess I was and what she was getting into and if I thought a little bit of eyeliner was going to change her opinion now, I was definitely being stupid, and that the wasted time bit would have been a bigger insult. Which, thank Bishops, was finally something that I was right about, this wasn’t a “put on something a little bit pretty after work and we’ll go on as best a date as we can make happen” thing, she’d already changed into her nightwear, it was a fling, pure and simple. And that bit I can do. Behind-closed-doors flings seem to be my specialty.

And then, just through—bits of conversation, I guess, who’s passing who in hallways, allusions, maybe just instinct—over the two weeks, I became almost positive that Vennikus was also seeing Chaera Canth.

So Chaera Canth. I met Canth on my first week, when I was working on a project out in the field and Vennikus and Canth came to join a few days in. She and Vennikus seemed pretty close? They had exactly the sort of “why are you doing this dangerous thing” “because I’m me? next” dynamic that you only get when you are actually legitimately fond of someone. So I figured that Canth and Vennikus were at the very least pretty good friends if Canth was watching out for her like that, and I really didn’t want the same thing to happen with her that happened between me and Impera Casque during the Trials—namely, Impera Casque decided the moment that I met her that she absolutely loathed me and everything I did, and I’m still not sure why, because I didn’t get up and leave when she and Helena sat at my table or something?—anyways, if Canth and Vennikus were already friends I wanted to make sure that I was playing nice with Canth so that I didn’t have a co-worker who hated my guts next to someone that I was trying to spend time with. And then we were assigned to work on the same project about the connections between Caedic magic and Green magic and we were cooperating just fine as co-heads and I genuinely liked working with her. I invited her to my morning practices when it looked like we were trying to develop a combat application for one of the things we were working on, and she has the background of a ritualist and cleric, not that of a warrior, and so she had been showing up to those every once in a while. She was pretty good, too. And she was one of the regulars at my table during mealtimes. And she’d sometimes catch me and pass on messages to me after morning practice even when she didn’t come when I was hurrying off to get a head start on research skipping breakfast, because that’s the sort of reliable, solid person she is, who would look out for her colleagues. But anyways. We worked together for a while. She apparently really liked my altar design for Craftsman, we had a conversation one morning in our lab with her slamming down papers in front of me and going “Strell, what is this!” and I was really terrified for a moment and this was before Vennikus so I didn’t even know what I did to make her mad except maybe flirt terribly too much and then realized that it was just notes on my altar from the Trials and I kind of shrugged and went “my altar?” and she was all “why didn’t you tell me?” and I shrugged again mostly because everyone here had been working on things and didn’t really seem to care so I didn’t think she’d find it interesting and she went “how did you even do this it’s impossible” and I was like “because I didn’t know enough about arcane or ritual theory to know it was supposed to be impossible?” and she laughed and knocked me on the shoulder and said okay, fair, that was how a lot of discoveries were made, and I really thought we were friends. Think we are friends. I still do. Think that, I mean.

But she’s a good person. She’s a fantastic researcher and an accomplished ritualist and genuinely considerate and at this point it really wasn’t “I want to suck up to Vennikus’s friends so that I can spend time with Vennikus without it being awkward” anymore, I really liked her. And she and Vennikus clearly knew each other and clearly had history from well before I came into the picture even though I definitely did not know that they were seeing each other when I started seeing Vennikus and it was one thing if casual flings were the sort of thing that happened at Black Lotus Labs, I was fine with that, but if it wasn’t—I didn’t want to ruin a long-term serious relationship that Vennikus had if she was serious about Canth and Canth didn’t know about me, but also, I couldn’t help Vennikus cheat on someone who was a genuinely good person, which means I had to try to track down Canth and see if I could…subtly ask, or something?

Celsus I am so bad at subtle. I regret so much skipping out on those tutors that Mom and Dad got for us about polite interactions, because maybe I would have figured out how to be even slightly subtle. Of, you know, tracking down someone out of the blue in a corridor that definitely wasn’t in my segment of the labs to ask “soooo how are you doing” like it was just normal smalltalk and I hadn’t obviously tracked her down for something instead of catching her at or before breakfast and when that only got a “fine,” to “sooooo how have things been going in the division” to which I got a quick update on how the research projects were going fine to “soooo how is everyone doing?” which still didn’t get me the answer of whether or not she and Vennikus were a thing or a thing-thing and at this point I’d already made a scene so I just kind of went “so, you and Vennikus?”

To which she said, “Oh, Vennikus didn’t tell you about it yet? I thought she had weeks ago. Yeah, don’t worry.” I think. Might have been worded slightly differently. That gist got across. I was already retreating (okay, fine, running away) down the hallway blurting something along the lines of “ohgreatthankBishopsIjustwantedtomakesureIwasn’thelpingcheatonyou”. Which also probably was the worst thing to say. I have stared death in the face multiple times and I don’t think any of that was as terrifying as the moment before Chaera answered that question when she was just. Staring at me. Slightly quizzically. And I had no idea whether or not I had just detonated the biggest interpersonal bomb the labs and ever seen and was about to ruin absolutely everything within the tentative web of friendships I had formed or if it was all okay and turns out it was all even more okay than I thought, she knew about us from the start.

So anyways. I think me and Canth are still friends. She’s been acting like we’re still friends. The same table of us all usually get meals together. Nothing has changed, me and Vennikus are still seeing each other and it’s still great. Quite frankly Vennikus might have actually been dropping hints on purpose of “this is not an exclusive thing, I’m seeing Canth too, you get it, right?” and I accidentally signaled that I got it but it just went completely over my head because I’m so new to this. Big exciting false alarm. I wonder if Talia and Alexis think that I’m flirting with them still. Honestly just Vennikus is enough in terms of sheer time management, there’s just so much work to be done with our research. But yeah. Me and Vennikus Callo. Score for Iria Strell. Well. More score for Vennikus Callo, I was pretty useless in the entire process.

Don’t tell Mom and Dad, or rather, specifically, don’t tell Grandmother, I don’t want her getting any sort of expectations that I’ve been forging some sort of web of social connections or Bishops forbid any ideas about me marrying up. It’s just so nice to have friends my age again. I had Talvus in the Army, but Talvus was Talvus and my best friend and that’s never going to change, but is also a guy, and even if it wouldn’t be weird to like Talvus in all his Talvusness I don’t think I like guys in that way, and here I am surrounded by a group of like-minded geniuses who do the coolest science, are down to give morning defense practices a try, even if I’m teaching more than sparring with half of them, and are also all so pretty. So pretty. It’s great. I would happily spend the rest of my life here, if it’s how I can best contribute to the Empire. I guess I had Arcadia in the Army too. I have no idea what we are to each other. Did any letters from her arrive for me at the family estate?

Anyways, I know it probably sounds like I haven’t been getting a lot of work done, but I assure you, I have been making a lot of fantastic progress on a lot of fronts and I will do our family proud. I should probably get back to said work, I feel like I’m on the cusp of a huge breakthrough. Although it’s all so new and exciting that everything is the cusp of a huge breakthrough. I hope that your work has been exciting and fulfilling as well.

Love, your sister, Iria

———

Dear Maldai,

I've been working at Black Lotus Labs, for the Department of the Craftsman. I mean, I guess you know that I've been working here. Or at least as much as I could tell you in my last letter. The letter that I actually sent. Or I guess that actually reached you. I know that I cannot send this letter for a lot of reasons, but I wanted to write it all down, before I forget a single detail.

I met the Bishop Lucan.

There was a fairly serious attack—a dryad and a satyr stirring up some local forces—and I played an instrumental role in fending it off, I killed a number of their forces then both of them—but the damage to the facility had been enough that the Department of the Architect was taking personal interest in helping us rebuild. There were rumors that the Bishop was coming. And then one morning there were rumors that She had arrived. I made sure that I was wearing the best clothes that I had, but more than that, what do you do when there is the chance that you might run into a Bishop in the hallways of your workplace? Prostrate yourself on the floor solidly out of the way when She is walking down an adjacent hallway turned out to be the answer.

(Talvus…tried to copy some of Her needle design. While She was still in the hallway. She paused for a moment and I thought we were both going to die having utterly disgraced ourselves and our names because Talvus couldn’t keep it together for one minute when we were passing one of the Eleven Bishops and then She kept walking.)

The morning went much of the same way, Galen and I continued working on the research we had been working on, which at this point I had managed to develop mechanical wands that mages could store simple spells in. After an hour or so, he sent me away. I went to make myself useful in Summer Division, as I knew my way around their main labs, and I kept myself busy for another hour. Then there was a message spell, red light and Galen Torus's voice, telling me to return to our lab.

I could feel it before I got there, radiating through the door, the air, my veins. The Bishop Lucan — She was there. I had been ordered to enter, so I entered. She was sitting in a throne-like seat woven of red light, the same needles that had been around Her that Talvus had tried to copy, I couldn't — not that I would try to look at Her, but I couldn't see Her, couldn't see any more than a silhouette and the raw radiating power.

Galen was standing off to one side. I dropped prostrate on the ground, and then She — She looked at me.

It was like my mind, my soul, my self was a knot and there was a tug and it unraveled. Every — every memory, every smallest aspect of me laid bare, there wasn't even a me anymore and I could feel Her looking through it. I do not know how much time passed. It stopped rather abruptly. I was still on the floor, trembling. I could tell that She and Galen Torus were exchanging words, but I couldn't catch what the words were. I saw Galen Torus walk over to our workbench, and put the prototype of my — our — mechanical wand down. He turned back to Her.

Everything snapped and I was — I was more myself again.

The voice resounded, thrumming, around me, inside me, everywhere.

"A promising project."

Then She rose and the throne unravelled, shifting and fading into the larger network of Her magic that Talvus said had been suppressing Her full power and who-knows-what-else, and She moved past my prone form and out of the lab.

I met the Bishop Lucan, She looked at my mechanical wands, and She said "a promising project."

I—I knew that I was in over my head, working with Galen Torus. I knew that—that the project I was working on was of vital interest to the Empire. I knew how lucky I was to have caught the attention of someone so important, to work on something so important. But everyone here is doing important things. Talvus is the one—Talvus always was the one—who knew how to do important things, who was supposed to be doing the important clever things. I was supposed to be in the Army, training to maybe be a Captain, maybe a Legionary Captain one day. I was learning to be a Captain one day. This is—it's so beyond anything I ever thought I'd be doing, and while the politics are beyond me, the science, it seems, is not. I'm good at this. I'm as good at this as I ever was at tactics. Maybe not as good as I was at fighting, but a Captain can't decide that the solution to a tactical situation is that they go and fight the entire enemy army themselves because they're the best fighter and I—I guess I never really learned not to do that. So maybe I wouldn't have made a good Captain. Maybe it's better that I'm here now, working on science, technology, weapons for the Army to deploy. Galen Torus is still the mastermind behind this project, and I might not be a soldier anymore, but I know how to be a good specialist, a good tool, I know how to be wielded to do incredible things. And I can't say that it's mine, but some of it was mine. Some of it came from the delayed explosives Talvus and I developed in the Highlands. And not just the wands. The Arcanum cannons. We've—I've—successfully adapted it, created our own. The Rose Gun, we call it. Lined with rose gold. It's smaller, more compact than the Surrian Arcanum Cannons were. Enough that one strong soldier alone could carry it. The payload is not quite as powerful, I'm not sure if we'll ever make it quite as powerful, we're still in the most preliminary of testing stages—but the tactical applications are entirely different. This doesn't need to be planted on top of a hill on a battlefield and defended because it's too large to move. This—this is far more versatile.

There's a part of me that's just waiting for another disaster to happen. Talvus is here too, which means—well, you never got the letter, where I told you about the Wolf of Ears Eyes and Hands, or what she said. How scared she was of us, and not for killing her. I don't think there's anything related to anything she saw here, nothing matches any of the charcoal drawings we took from her tent, but it's still—it's too quiet. I keep waiting for something to ambush us. At least in the Trials, things kept going wrong. There was no letting down your guard. Maybe I just...got too used to war, but I don't trust that the fighting is over. I can't trust that it's over. Things have been quiet since the dryad's attack, and it feels wrong, but there's nothing to indicate that anything is at all wrong. I guess one of the researchers in Autumn Division committed suicide a fortnight ago, and people have been a bit shaken up about that. He dug out his own teeth, which means every time I wake up with my teeth even slightly aching, I get paranoid all over again. I'm running morning practices still, same as I did during the Trials and the journey before that. Alexis Corinthian shows up to nearly all of them, she's a friend of mine from Winter Division, ex-Army, so she's good to practice with. Vennikus Callo comes mostly to watch and sometimes to test a move or a spell, but she's a much better fighter than she's letting on, I don't know why she's hiding it. Talia, who's been practicing with me from the very beginning, literally since the ship we took out here—well, she's alright, but she's not good, it's clear that the way that I'm showing her to move isn't natural to her. Which is—I mean it's to be expected, she's a civilian, and she's more a mage than a fighter. She's improved, but I don't think I'd tell her to do anything in a fight other than stand behind me or run. Not that I'm expecting anything horrible to happen, it just seems...overdue.

My injury is getting worse. It's the natural progression of things, and I have to accept it. I'm learning to accept it. It’s not like I can’t still do important things to serve the Empire. I hope yours are getting better. I hope that if—when—the Rose Guns go into production, maybe then I’ll be able to tell you it was me, I was the one who figured out how to meld magic and mechanics, I was the one who built the first prototype, I was the one who developed the theory. I hope that you’ll be proud of me.

Be well, Iria Strell

———

To Maldai Varricon 3rd Legion’s Meridionalis Barracks Serae

Dear Maldai,

I am writing because your blades have been lost. I cannot tell you why or how, just know that it was in decisively defeating an Enemy of the Empire the likes and scale of which were unprecedented. As I still have the ability to fight, I was hoping to gain from you the knowledge of how you had them specially balanced, that I might commission my own pair.

I hope that you have been healing well, and that the Empire is triumphing on the Surrian front.

May that you be well, Iria Strell

———

Official Report On The Black Lotus Labs Infestation Incident Drafted For Filing Iria Strell, Senior Researcher Acolyte Consecrate

The following is a report of the attack on Black Lotus Labs by the Infestation, and the actions taken by myself, Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale, Senior Research Lead Qaedius Galseii, and Instigator Vennikus Callo to contain it. While the end result was rather extreme, it remains my tactical opinion that the measures employed were matched to the severity of the threat this Enemy presented; not just to Black Lotus Labs, but to the Empire as a whole. I include at the end of this report all relevant information from the months prior that might pertain to this Enemy, such that a proper assessment can be made.

On the night of the incident, I had stayed late in my lab to work on a personal project as many of the researchers do. As such, I did not take the fastest route back from Winter Division to the sleeping quarters, but rather a more roundabout way that passed near the kitchens, that I might grab rations to make up for a skipped dinner. I mention this because the route passed a corridor which connected to Autumn Division, and it was in this corridor that I encountered my first instance of an infested body. I could see a figure lurching towards me, half falling against a wall as its stumbles extinguished a candle. All behind it was darkness.

I hurried forward to try to help, and I first perceived what I thought to be Senior Researcher Lia Bassus of Autumn Division. I caught her before she fell to the floor. It felt like she was shivering in my arms. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness that I assumed had been accidental in her wake; the first sign that something greater was at play. What the dimness of the remaining candlelight revealed was as if from a nightmare: the back of her head had been caved in, as if by a blow that I would presume to be fatal or near-fatal on a battlefield. Her hair matted with blood. One of her eyes—part of her face—was gone, and there was a strange, bone-like structure growing from the cavity in its place, spines curling into the flesh of her cheek. Some of her teeth had been dug out, much like Hieronymus Acari's body had been found—the Autumn Division researcher who had apparently committed suicide a few weeks prior.

Bassus raised an arm and struck me, cutting into my shoulder, and it became clear that her hand had been replaced by crystalline spurs jutting from her forearm, a strange shade of teal that seemed greenish-black in the flickering candlelight. I could not tell whether or not she was dead; it had felt like she was still breathing. As such, I did not want to harm her if there was a way to extract this thing without killing her. Yet I could not leave her alone and run and fetch a medic, lest she wander somewhere unknown, or cross the path of another without the advantage of my combat training. So I began to lead her towards the common room off the sleeping quarters, where even at this hour it was likely I might find someone I could send running for help. She shambled after me mindlessly, all I had to do was walk slowly enough for her to keep pace.

I abandoned this plan as I reached an intersection with a corridor that led to Summer Division; there was a shout, and I saw a guard running before he stumbled and fell, and was immediately overwhelmed by three creatures that were more bone-like crystalline growth than mismatched corpse. I immediately updated my assessment of the situation: that this was not an isolated incident affecting only Lia Bassus, but rather a full-scale attack. I left what I now believe to be Bassus's corpse to run to my sleeping quarters and retrieve my weapons and armor, that I might better respond to the crisis.

When I exited my room, armed, I nearly ran into Senior Researcher Chaera Canth, woken by the distant but rapidly spreading sounds of fighting and shouts of panic. As she was a non-combatant, I instructed her to stay behind me as I escorted her to the common room as established by the new emergency procedures. There, I decided, I could take stock of which researchers had made it to relative safety. We encountered none of the crawlers or infested along the way. However, in the common room, I noticed several prominent researchers missing, and resolved to comb the living quarters armed as I was for more survivors. Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale of Spring Division caught me before I could go and agreed to come with me. We had served together in the same specialist unit in the Army, and as such we were familiar with fighting side by side. He was not nearly as enthusiastic as I was about returning to the unsafe territory of the sleeping quarters or corridors beyond, but we encountered no enemies to or from the sleeping quarters, nothing save the last living stragglers who were evacuating. None of the researchers that I wished to find were in their rooms, so we returned to the common room, Zhale attempting to talk me out of searching Summer and Autumn Division labs alone for those who were missing.

As we turned into the common room, my senses began to fail me. Zhale said something that I could not comprehend, yet I could hear whispering across the room with perfect clarity. The walls seemed to re-orient to a tilted frame. All I could concentrate on was what felt like a point of gathering focus on the opposing wall.

Then all hell broke loose.

A thing burst through the wooden barrier, trailing infested corpses and crawlers in its wake. Everything seemed to emanate around it, to warp from it. I leapt into action, running across the room even as Zhale shouted something at me that I could not understand. The Thresher was humanoid—a strange silhouette, with the jagged bonelike spikes coming from it, the unnaturally long and thin limbs, the crystalline spikes growing everywhere, but especially at the end of its claw-like arms, its deep purple coloring in the dim lighting, a triangular armored head with no eyes but dozens of small clicking feelers beneath it—but it was humanoid and it was moving so I assumed that it could bleed; and I was not yet used to my blades failing me.

The Thresher ripped through a researcher in a single blow, and the crawlers fell upon others. I attempted to join the melee, and an old injury affecting my spine that I had received in my tenure in the Army flared, and I collapsed. A few seconds later I was able to push myself to standing, and tried to attack again, and it flared again. I blacked out. When I came to, the room was partially evacuated, and there was a crawler over me. I shoved it off, and joined those who were fleeing, the guards forming a line behind the researchers as they held a defensive retreat.

As I wasn't running particularly fast anyways, I joined the guards without hesitation. The infested caught up with us as we held out in the hallway. I had dropped both my blades as my injury had dropped me, but I was wearing a prototype of a swift-deploying hand razor within a bracer, so I activated that. The things were upon us. I turned to fight. Yet as I lunged to strike my first blow, there was a sharp twist of pain within me, and I could feel something tear in my back. Guard Captain Saturninus Strabo leapt over my prone form, and struck the blow that I could not. Another guard dragged me back and along with the civilians, and so I was delivered to the Winter Division central complex, as Winter Division seemed to be the least infected and thus the safest place we could barricade ourselves. He deposited me in a chair, then joined the guards who were fortifying the room.

Guard Captain Strabo and most of the guards who remained in the hallway did not return.

After about a minute, I attempted to stand and found that I could not. I could still feel my right leg, but it was limp, and it could not hold my weight. I fell to the ground. This caught the attention of Senior Research Lead Qaedius Galseii, amongst those who had escaped the carnage and had gathered for holdout of evacuation here. Senior Research Lead Galseii had treated injuries of mine in the attack on the labs by Saren and the dryad's forces a little over a month prior, and was familiar enough with it to immediately locate a detached muscle and perform impromptu surgery to return me to my feet.

Research Lead Ovir Arbutus took command of the situation with the poise and authority that his prior experience as Guard Captain proffered him. We did not have the manpower, weapons, or fortifications to hold out against this infestation in any room within the labs, even the relatively unaffected Winter Division central laboratory we were in, for any substantial period of time. He ordered the full and immediate evacuation of the laboratories; to move all personnel to the docks and vacate the island, until the Army could return in force. He asked for volunteer runners to attempt to locate any other survivors in the laboratory and spread the news of this evacuation, and the rest of us would make our way out through corridors we believed to be least overrun, with all who could fight holding the edges of the formation. I could not run; it was a testament to Galseii's skill as a surgeon that I could stand at all, so there was never any question of which of these two groups I would be traveling with. I had the time to duck into the private lab where I had been working, to grab the most important of my notes, and prototypes of mechanically deploying bandages (both standalone and the lightweight underarmor woven of them that I designed). My second generation hand razor prototypes were not near enough ready for combat to be of worth taken, and the partially inlaid barrel of the Rose Gun prototype was too heavy to carry in my injured state, so I left them.

The group was already organized into its leaving formation by the time I returned. I joined the makeshift collection of combatants along the rear. Zhale and Galseii were within the group. We made it a large portion of the way out through emptier corridors, but there were too many of us to move swiftly enough to avoid confrontation, and these things seemed to be tracking us through more senses than our own. They came from the back and from the sides: the crawlers, partially consisting of scattered bits of corpses and held together with wild crystalline growths. The guards and volunteers began to fight them, and it became evident that these things could rapidly regenerate, that cutting them apart did little to slow them down.

Recalling that the corpse of Lia Bassus had been putting out candles, I suggested that we use fire against these things. After a brief scramble to get a torch from the center of the group to the fighters on the outskirts, we tested my hypothesis to great success. We pushed forward with no casualties until another Thresher burst through one of the walls. Research Lead Arbutus moved to cut it off, and I to support him, when a huge crystalline monster, well larger than the largest of the dinosaurs that attack, smashed through another wall. The Thresher's aura was warping my perception of reality, but I saw it slit across Arbutus's throat, and Arbutus fall; so I leapt forward and slapped one of my mechanical bandage prototypes across the wound. The crystalline monster was simply too large and too strong to fight. I was able to kill the Thresher that had attacked Arbutus, but its warping field did not disappear; it instead felt as if to strengthen more as more Threshers began to attack the back of the column. There was no hope fighting, I lost sight of everyone but Arbutus and the guard to his right. We hoisted his body between us, and ran.

We made it outside, as did a number of the others. I blacked out shortly after from the exertion. I came to on a makeshift cot a few hundred feet away from the laboratory complex, with Senior Research Lead Galseii standing over me and tending to my injuries. A brief assessment of the surroundings indicated that Senior Researcher Alexis Corinthian had taken over organizing the survivors to move to the ships at the docks, as Research Lead Arbutus remained alive but unconscious.

Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale and Instigator Vennikus Callo were the two who had noticed, and were discussing, the larger implications than immediate escape. There had been strange, small, coral-like growths that had appeared extremely intermittently in various locations around the laboratories over the past few months, and Callo alone took the chance to study some instead of immediately purging them. They had seemed to grow from nothing, in a sealed and sterilized container, and Callo had discovered little more than that they must have been feeding upon some outside source, and that they were remarkably resilient, before the worry of contamination led her to dispose of the samples in fire. She made the connection that these growths had been precursors of the Infestation, and that they were not merely feeding upon and incorporating all living things that they could consume, but that there must be a larger unidentified force, presumed magical in nature, supplying them with the power to expand exponentially and with nothing material to feed on. By her calculations, they would overrun the entire island well before the Army would be able to return, and the evacuation itself might still be in imminent danger.

The mention of an outside force supplying the energy for growth gave Senior Research Lead Zhale the idea: that he might be able to erect something based on the principles behind the Warding Wall, that could keep the Infestation from drawing on this power. It would be an immense undertaking, and for it to work, he would need both to lay a ritual anchor and cast the spell separately. As he did not have the raw power and blood magic expertise to lay the ritual anchor in full, he turned to Senior Research Lead Galseii, a frequent collaborator of his, for assistance in this plan. Instigator Callo indicated that she believed she could invert a Green Magic spell she had reverse-engineered over her studies in Summer Division in order to mask the life force of the casters, which she concluded from her research was what the Infestation was using to see and track its surroundings, allowing the casters to recuperate overnight. She suggested the bunker where the Catalyst was being separately kept and studied, far enough away from the main laboratory complex to ensure it would not be threatened in the case of another Misery event, as the ideal place to spend the night; after all, even hidden from the Infestation, the jungle held many dangers.

After ensuring that what I had salvaged of my research notes would make it to the ship, I volunteered to stay behind and provide martial support to the casters. No other guards could be spared. Corinthian agreed after a brief conversation with Callo that she would hold the ships from leaving until the next morning, but longer than that if she had not received a signal from us she would not risk the lives of the other survivors.

The laying of the ritual anchor went essentially as planned. Despite my injured state I was able to hold off the onslaught long enough for Zhale and Galseii to finish. I blacked out again briefly during our escape and retreat to the Catalyst bunker, and came to safely laid in a cot.

The mages—Zhale and Callo—slept immediately. Galseii and I discussed our options, as there is a stiffness in my injury that develops after extended periods of rest, and it was likely that if I tried to sleep I would wake up the next morning immobilized for hours. We concluded that it was priority that I be able to provide emergency support for the casters in the case of Callo's charm wearing off during the laying of Zhale's Warding spell or during our final retreat through the jungle, and that the two of us would remain awake. Under his supervision, I performed a number of exercises to ward off the stiffness, and in the intervening time, I finished incorporating the mechanical bandages into the underarmor I had brought along, and Galseii a series of bloodrunes that he would apply to himself to cause a continuous damage to all surrounding enemies the next morning.

Zhale and Callo arose a little after dawn. In the light, it was clear that one of the stationary growths that had precipitated the arrival of the Infestation had appeared in the corner of the bunker. Upon its pointing out, Callo stated to the group that she worried that the makeshift Warding Wall spell would not do enough; that it would cut these things off from magical continued growth, but only within the radius of the spell, and that it would mean nothing for that which was already here and could consume naturally the life around it. Furthermore, that if any remained in any corners of the island when the Army came back in force, that it might come back, again and again, never truly eradicated. And that was assuming it did not manage a way to get off the island before then.

I was the one who suggested it. After all, we were right there, and I do not believe that I ever saw the Catalyst as anything other than first and foremost, a weapon. It seemed tactically relevant to think of all possible ways to make a thing explode.

"What about the Catalyst?" I said. "Can we set it off? Make another Misery big enough to destroy this thing?"

The idea stopped Callo short. Of all of us, she had been following the research on the Catalyst, and could speak to how it worked: that it disassembled life, and the energy field from that disassembly, if it encountered more life, would destabilize in a further chain reaction, expanding until there was no life left within the field. If it were set off in the heart of the Infestation, the deepest point within Black Lotus Labs, the growth-density ought to be enough for the explosion to reach the treeline, and the blast would overtake the entire island, giving a guarantee that units of soldiers fighting through the underbrush could not of the ending of this threat for good.

As a military strategy, I recommended it to the others as perhaps the only way, given Callo's modified calculations, to secure the island even after casting Zhale's Warding Wall. But for the potential of loss of knowledge and unique abilities of those gathered within this room was also a great consideration, not when all that was needed was for one to wait behind until the others had reached the ships, push their way as deep into the complex as they could, and detonate the thing as they were overrun. Callo was just expressing doubt that any one of us four would not be able to make it in deep enough to trigger a large enough chain reaction, when Zhale woke up.

"There's another way out," he said. "Deep in that building. Deep, deep in that building, there happens to be a window into a probably-not-going-to-explode arcane realm. Big enough for a person to get through, or several persons if they're not dead."

After that, it was unanimous amongst the four of us. With the Warding Wall cast, the Infestation would lose its regenerative powers. With my fighting abilities, emergency support and alchemical prowess from Callo, consistent healing from Galseii to prop me back up, and Zhale conserving his energy for the portal to the Arcane Other that he believed using the scaffolding Autumn Division had created, he could cast — the four of us judged the likelihood of our success and our survival to be well worth the risk of the undertaking.

It was our duty.

As there was little more to discuss, we set out to return to the main labs, the Catalyst with us in its portable protective casing. The first sign that this occurrence was different than originally judged became evident as we reached the clearing in front of the complex where we had laid the ritual anchor: despite the rapid spread of growth the night prior, there was no sign of the Infestation having spread beyond the buildings.

The immediate priority was the casting of Zhale's Warding Wall spell. I can report no technical details on what he did: he wove large and incredibly complex three-dimensional needles, using his own blood to stabilize the structure, then asked that the rest of us first hold magic in place, then contribute blood to increase the complexity of the spell. Callo added her blood first. I added mine second. Galseii added his third. Upon adding my blood to the needle, I could feel a connection to the spell, and could indeed both feel and see the increase in complexity that Zhale spoke of; upon the casting, I could feel a pressure, something outside trying to push itself in, but the spell held strong and Zhale's Warding Wall cut it off.

Callo and I plotted what we believed to be the most efficient route to Autumn Division, given what had been observed the night prior with the route taken to escape through Winter Division; what Callo had seen when she had volunteered as a runner; the assumption that the Infestation had started and was concentrated in Autumn Division and had spread evenly throughout the facility; and prioritizing routes with fewer ambush points or connecting hallways so that the casters would remain as safe as possible and could rely mainly on my martial expertise to push forward, instead of dealing with attacks from multiple directions. This route ensued entering through Summer Division. The assault went with few hitches. That which is notable, I report here: besides the infested corpses, Thresher, and crawlers we had fought the day before — we did not encounter another crystalline Destroyer — we encountered crawlers with tendrils that they used to attempt to grapple, pin, and pull in prey; infested corpses of the local fauna, namely raptors and dinosaurs, indicating that the Infestation had spread the night before then pulled back to the facility; and Threshers with vine-like appendages with a reach of well over thirty feet that they used to attempt to snatch and pull in their prey while fighting. There were also stationary growths on the floor that made no active attempt to engage in the fighting nor did they show any sentience or signs of moving, but remaining standing on these growths one would begin to sink into them, become ensnared, and their insides contained both an acidic substance and many small spines. Zhale's Warding Wall cut off the ability of all of these things to regenerate, but it otherwise did not seem to slow them down. We must have fought between a dozen and a dozen and a half of all of these creatures, myself taking the brunt of the attacks but Callo protecting Galseii and Zhale with a remarkable aptitude from behind, Galseii providing healing and some magical support, and Zhale carrying the Catalyst and conserving his energy to cast for our escape.  

In the final room between Summer and Autumn Divisions, we encountered our third sign that the Infestation was being guided by some form of overarching intelligence. The ground was covered by a swarm of strange beetles. Upon lighting and sweeping a torch near them, they scattered somewhat, but more poured from cracks in the wall and the floor until we were wading through them. We stuck as close as we could to the edges of the room, when we were struck by the strong mental pressure against going right; so we eased around the left side of the room. We had gotten perhaps halfway across the room in these conditions when the beetles suddenly swarmed together to form a massive column in the center of the room. The column lashed out and specifically targeted Zhale, and pulled back with the case containing the Catalyst, leaving Zhale on the floor. I had to leap into the column myself to grab and retrieve the case; otherwise the Catalyst and the entire plan would have been lost.

We were very close to Autumn Division once we had made it through the laboratory that had been overrun by the bugs. We turned into the final hallway, to which we saw a humanoid figure, slumped slightly; its weight somehow wasn't right on its feet.

Zhale moved forward and the small light spell he'd been holding cast away the gloom. It was Talia Aurelia.

I was standing in front, so it saw me first.

"Iria?" it said.

"Talia. Rough night?" I asked. 

"Not terribly," it said. "It all went well, all told."

At that point, I readied my blades, and drank a refined prototype of a potion for increased strength and speed that Callo had given me. Zhale pushed the light further into the hallway, and it became clear why it was slumped strangely: it wasn't putting any weight on its feet because extending from its back and arching over its shoulders were articulated pointed growths and limbs made of the strange mix of crystalline outcroppings and pieces of corpses. Some were lumpy but many were jointed, clean — an enormous form, something between a centipede and a mass grave.

"So did the Infestation get you, or was this you the whole time?" I asked it.

"There never was a Talia Aurelia. There is only us," it said.

Beyond it, the room was dug out, which huge, person-sized insectoid creatures crawling constantly over and around one another, a roiling sea filling the pit of their own making. The room that we needed to get to, the metal chamber, for Zhale to cast the spell that would allow us to escape — it was more than forty feet up a sheer vertical wall.

"What was it that you thought you were going to accomplish?" I asked the thing in front of me.

It lunged, sweeping with two huge claws that loosed a spay of crystalline needles.

"To pave the way."

Galseii cast something on me as I kept fighting, kept trying to hold its attention so that the others could go around and begin to set up for our escape.

"What for?"

I got three good, solid hits in, but it did not nearly slow the thing down — it plucked me up with one of its claws, articulated spines piercing into me where it grabbed me.

"Come on, we're friends, you can tell me," I said, and thrust up through the chest where the heart would be and ripped the blade out. It looked down at me, smiled, a bit of blood dotting the side of its mouth, and flung me into the pit.

Callo took over the more martial aspects of the fight at this, pulling out a silk scarf that she began to whip around, magic sharpening the end. It took me a few seconds to climb out of the pit, at which point the thing had begun to attack Galseii, and was trying to peel his head apart. I dismembered the limb that was holding him, and took the attention of the Infestation once more.

It was at that point that I was hit by Callo's blade. Her eyes were open wide and shaking, as she slashed it across my throat, resisting but failing to resist some sort of telephysical control. I was impaled twice partially through my torso by the monster. Zhale barreled across the room, as fast as he could run still carrying the Catalyst, and tackled Callo, making up for lack of skill with pure momentum.

She came to again, and shouted, "Legs! Go for the legs!"

I turned away from the front of the thing and ripped underneath it, cutting out five or six legs' worth of musculature. Callo pushed herself up and severed another leg.

That which had called itself Talia, its body tattered and ripped to pieces, chunks of lung and the remains of what was a heart mixed with other viscera, leaned over me.

"I know you though, Iria," it said.

It slammed another of the limbs that it had been trying to use against Galseii into me, knocking me onto my side, and a row of teeth dug into my back and ripped into connection points of the musculature of my spine. The places that were weakest from my injury.

It ripped.

I regained consciousness about twenty feet in the air, in a cradle of silk carried by a massive summoned spider. Galseii and Zhale were next to me. Callo was single-handedly holding the monster off, severing leg after leg with her scarf. The three of us made it to the door in the wall, and tumbled into the compartment. Once we were safe inside, Callo started climbing.

"I need more time!" Zhale said.

Recalling once more these things' original distaste of fire, I dragged myself to the edge and set the webbing that remained on the wall on fire, and the silk hammock that had carried me as well, to throw at the monster. Callo easily dodged the burning bits on the wall, and made it through and into the room. We shut the metal door, and there was immediately a great force slamming into it, spines piercing partially through. Zhale finished his preparations, using my discarded sword to smash through the glass window that had previously been used for viewing in this chamber, and cast the spell. Galseii finished doing something that allowed him at least to prop me up.

The original plan had been for me to be the last through the portal; the one who waited, who could wait and hold fighting who-knows-what while the others got as far through the portal and away from a potential blast radius as they could. This was no longer possible. Galseii and Zhale took me, an arm around a shoulder each, and half-carried me through the portal. Callo stayed behind. When we had hobbled far enough to hopefully be safe; or perhaps when it became clear that the chamber door would hold out for no more abuse, Callo kicked the door open, opened the protective casing, threw the whole thing out, turned and dived through the window, and began sprinting towards us.

There was a booming roar, although muffled; everything was muffled in the Arcane Other, gray, strange. There was the strange sensation of the ground shaking, yet far away, or perhaps a concussive front from the mass explosion occurring right through the window reached us before the eruption of the strange flickering red and green sparks that characterized the destabilization field, blooming out like a poisonous cloud. In its initial expansion it was faster, covering the distance Callo had covered much more rapidly, and it seemed as though all would be lost; but in the Arcane Other, there was no life to fuel this outcropping of the reaction, and it seemed as though all might be well; but the cloud clipped Callo and threw her forward with a force as it began dissipating. The window snapped shut.

Galseii left me with Zhale and ran towards Callo's prone form, even as she shouted for him to stay back; but the red and green sparks that sunk into her were not quite enough to set off a new reaction. She lost her eyes, as she stabilized. Galseii tried to pull from the Caedis healing magic to treat all damages to her, but could not reach anything. Callo waved him off and stood on her own, and without her eyes, pointed us in a direction.

We walked, for what must have been nearly an hour, Callo giving small corrections when necessary. The distance felt similar to the distance that we might have walked from the laboratory complex to the ships; although I am not sure if I could report more exact details, as the exhaustion of nearly two days' without sleep, the exertion of the previous night and morning, and the injuries that I bore meant that remaining upright and moving forward took most all of my attention.

Finally, Callo stopped us. Zhale took several attempts to pull and stabilize a needle, but he did, and we saw through once more into our world: the deck of a ship, for Callo's navigation had been flawless. Galseii all but dropped me through the window, and he and Callo followed. Zhale attempted to step through as well, but had been so exhausted by the amount of casting he had done that he lost hold of the needle, and the portal closed before he was fully through, severing a part of his leg. Galseii moved to cast healing, and Zhale to stop him, but Zhale was a moment too late—alterations that Zhale had made to his blood during the Trial of the Architect to allow him to use it more freely in needles meant that it reacted poorly to the healing spell and lashed out, destroying the hand that Galseii had used to summon the magic. Healing magic was cast on Galseii, and mundane means to stop Zhale's bleeding were employed. The ship, now with all expected passengers, departed with haste to carry the survivors and this news back to Veteris. This concludes my report of the events surrounding the Infestation incident.

I believe that this Infestation represents an unprecedented threat to the Empire. It has not been eradicated, it has been pushed back, and we have no measure of how much this defeat cost it. Its advance force had in-depth research on the Empire, enough to create and impersonate a noble, infiltrate Black Lotus Labs, and to know enough about our language, culture, sciences, and magic to fit in seamlessly in both social interactions day-to-day for months and in its research team. The appearance of Talia Aurelia could not have been a magical construct whatsoever, as it sat and interacted multiple times with Senior Research Lead Zhale, who has perhaps the most sensitive passive magical senses in the Empire and would have immediately picked up on any magical influences in the appearance of its body. It cast simple Caedic needles needed for its research multiple times, and once in front of Senior Research Lead Zhale, indicating that it was not merely parroting but had discovered how to fully reproduce Caedic arcane casting. It knew beforehand of the Capital and the protections in the Capital such as the Warding Wall; Talia Aurelia attempted to engage me in conversation about the mechanics of the Warding Wall when we first met, as well as the research and capabilities of the Academy, and was only thwarted by the fact that I knew little on either topic.

The mechanism with which it used to invade Black Lotus Labs is unknown, other than that it was partially blocked by a spell based on the Warding Wall. The reason why Black Lotus Labs was targeted is unknown; it is my instinct that the project that Autumn Division was researching that Talia Aurelia personally joined was perhaps something that the Infestation planned to use to more completely manifest in this dimension. This postulate is drawn from the facts that Talia Aurelia did choose to focus on the project involving dimensional observation for months and actively contributed to research for the team, that Black Lotus Labs was targeted despite being a well-guarded Caedic stronghold instead of some easier unoccupied place to manifest, and that within the labs most of the concentration and actions of the Infestation were in Autumn Division near the viewing room of Project that Talia Aurelia had been researching and that Senior Research Lead Zhale used to construct the portal for our escape. However, I do not believe there is any evidence present that could lead us to assume that the room and project were needed in the first place for the Infestation to invade, just that it was necessary for the second stage of the invasion.  

We must face the very real possibility that we do not know how many other Caedic elves are currently being impersonated or have been created entirely by the Infestation, or that might be in the future. We must assume that the Infestation has the ability to begin a second invasion anywhere in the Empire or in the world that is not currently protected by a Warding Wall, and its advance force alone—that which was sent to pave the way—was enough to destroy in near entirety a high-security Caedic stronghold with a large military-trained guard force specifically present and on the outlook for foreign threats.

I can still feel the connection to the Warding Wall spell Zhale erected. All four of us can. The force that was pressing against it remained pressing against it, with purpose, after the detonation of the Catalyst; it was only hours after the destruction of the advance force that the pressure withdrew. If anything tries to enter the island of Insul with Black Lotus Labs, we will be able to alert to Empire immediately. Senior Research Lead Zhale states that he expects the spell to hold for the span of a month to a few months. The Catalyst now lies in the center of a storm of magic. If its last event is anything to be judged by, the storm will stabilize within the year, allowing for the Catalyst to be fetched or secured at the Will of the Bishops. As for this Enemy and the threat it represents, the actions taken by myself, Senior Research Lead Zhale, Senior Research Lead Galseii, and Instigator Callo put an end to this incident. I can only re-iterate the words that it spoke to us: that it was here to pave the way for something greater. There is more of it out there, more which survived, which ostensibly now also has all of the research that Talia Aurelia collected for months on the very thing it needed to more fully invade. We merely stopped this outcropping, and we know not when it will be back.

———

to do list before reaching Veteris

-- check report one more time for anything missing. make sure no bias. they don’t want your opinion, just the facts. -- reconstruct rest of notes of Project Pendulum for Galen. do not assume any excuses will be accepted. cannot return empty-handed, especially not after destruction of the construct and prototypes. -- Talvus prosthetic design work in mechanical wand parts so can be used for spell storage too worried it might explode (coward). work in snack secret compartment instead -- work on possibility of designing Qaedius a working magic-mechanical hand prosthetic? probably impossibly/ beyond any theory work on it anyway. mechanical anchor based on construct—try non-magical scaffolding version first to model. if works, ask someone who knows better if offering to design with Qaedius would be insult -- visit Vennikus? would she want to see you she has Canth with her, not like she’s alone. still visit, make quick, show no pity or guilt you wouldn’t want anyone to pity you -- take notes on pain in exercises every morning. mobility in attempts to get through sword forms is improving. do not push or strain. not worth it. -- practice being better noble. greetings, dialect, personal presentation. do not write off any aspect. will need.

#gay murder elf bachelorette #dungeons and dragons #my writing #we finally did it folks I've finished writing up Book 4 #I'm very tired so I hope it comes across as coherent

[disorganizedkitten]

A day in the life of- Mafia AU

Hello @luckywritess! I was/am your Secret Santa this year (Last year?) from the @mlsecretsanta exchange! I’m sorry it’s so late!  I took one of your listed AUs and ran with it, I hope you enjoy! There will be at least three more chapters of this, exploring other characters’ lives in the same Universe.  Also on AO3!

Chapter one-Paon Vigilant

“No.”

“Maybe you should reconsider.” Renée’s comment was punctuated with the distinct sound of a gun cocking.

Paon Vigilant closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I already gave you my answer. It would be best for you and Lansky to accept that.”

Renée moved moved the gun closer to her head, a silent reinforcement of the threat.

Paon gave herself a moment, a part of her wishing some people understood the meaning of the word ‘No’, and the rest wishing it would be a smooth enough attack for her to grab her knifes at this angle, and then she moved.

The gun was out of Renée’s hand in a second, two tops. Another second to position the gun in her hand as she spun, kicking Lansky in the same motion.

The first gunshot echoed through the room, loud enough and long enough that the second seemed to merely be an extension of the noise. Two thuds, and Paon just needed to wait for her ears to stop ringing.

“I’m fine.” She called to her partner, wanting a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of fresh blood as she cleared her head.

Paon nodded to herself, and stepped over the two bodies she had just dropped, heading towards the door. Honestly, these guys thought she would take a bribe like that in the first place? Idiots. If they knew enough of her to try to bargain with the Miraculous Syndicate through her, they should have known she was smarter than to take such an imbalanced bargain.

It was a shame Renée had pulled a gun on her, knives were much more in her element.

Her partner for the day, The Mime, was waiting for her in the hall, raising a dark eyebrow when she left alone. Paon shook her head, moving her left hand across her neck while tapping her new gun against her leg with her right. He had probably heard the entire commotion, but it was still good to communicate. Mime nodded, adjusting his bowler hat before starting down the hall.

Paon followed Mime towards the door, fishing her burner cell out of her pocket as she did so. She tapped the buttons on the screen, dialing the familiar number of her husband and partner in crime, Papillon.

It didn’t even finish one set of dial tone before the line came live. “How’s it going, Lovebird?”

“Scenario three, I’m afraid,” Paon said, sighing as she dropped the now-cooled gun into her knife pouch.

“Aw. I was really hoping they’d be good on their word. Are you and Mime on your way back?”

“Leaving as we speak. Is someone waiting outside?”

“Robustus should still have a car there,” Papillion answered without hesitation. “Were you sick again this morning?”

“Butterfly, my love, can we discuss my health somewhere we won’t be overheard?” Paon asked, adjusting her pace so she was passing Mime.

“Of course,” Papillon agreed. “According to Catalyst you can’t come home quite yet though. Are you and Mime still okay with vetting Mr. Pigeon in half an hour?”

Paon Vigilant turned to Mime as she reached the next doorway, leaning against the bar so she could sign the question.

‘You still good with going to vett Mr. Birdy?’

‘I’m not due for my daughter’s play until three.’ He replied, the smile at the thought of his daughter obscuring the teardrops under his eyes.

‘Alright. Robustus’ Or Helicopter with eyes, as was his literal sign name, ‘should be waiting for us outside.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’ Mime saluted.

Paon pulled herself upright and nodded into her phone. “Yeah, we’re still on.”

“Perfect!” Papillon cried. Paon could hear his smile, and could imagine well enough the happy movement on the other side of the phone. He had been very optimistic about this possible ally, and was seemingly sure that he would be on their side.

Paon smiled back, sliding her daggers into her previously unoccupied hand as she pushed the door enough to actually open it. She spun, checking the alleyway outside, and relaxed a little once it proved to be clear.

“Is Befana going to pick us up from Mr. Pigeon’s meeting place?” Paon questioned, making her way down the alley towards the street.

“She’s overseeing the kids’ practices since Zombizou was needed in the field today,” Papillon answered nonchalantly.

“Well at least there’s someone there making sure they all behave themselves. And she’s there for tech support too I assume?”

“Actually, a good amount of the adults are overseeing that for us since we have to be out today.”

“I’m glad they’re not being left alone for it.” Paon reached the edge of the alleyway, and scanned the road in front of her. “Where’s the ride Robustus sent?”

“Down the road, nearer to the river.”

“Perfect, thank you, Love.” Paon spun again and relayed the message to Mime. He tipped his hat at her, gesturing for her to lead the way. She did so gracefully, walking through the streets as if she owned them. And really, she did. Not even Audrey Bourgeois, known as Style Queen in the world of Mafia and reputed to rule the undergrounds of New York, could compete. Emilie Agreste ruled Paris under many names and as many things. Emilie Agreste, model and movie star, known and beloved by many; Paon Vigilant, leader of the crime syndicate Miraculous, -feared by many, bordering on all; mother of Adrien Agreste, the sunshine child, and Chat Noir, pure destructive power hiding behind a playful smile; possible future mother-in-law of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the growing celebrity designer, and Ladybug, leader of the next generation of underground; Wife of Papillon, the second half of the brains running the best set of underground warriors to date; She ruled Paris in many ways, and would not be dethroned by anyone. Ladybug may be her successor, but Paon Vigilant didn’t plan on retiring any time soon.

Passerbys averted their eyes when she turned hers toward them, some even ducking inside the nearest building to avoid her. Paon didn’t mind it though. She welcomed it. People would swarm Emilie, but they all avoided Paon Vigilant to the best of their abilities.

Mime kept pace with her easily, causing anyone who may have been stupid enough to try to challenge her on her own to think again. It was why the basic rule of Miraculous Syndicate is to travel in groups of two or more at all times. While almost all of them could easily fight on their own, having a partner kept spirits up and showed trust between members.

The car wasn’t empty when the doors opened, but Paon hadn’t actually been expecting it to be. Traveling in groups was a common occurrence, even past individual mission groups.

Riposte and Anansi were waiting inside.

“Hello, Miss Feather!” Anansi called, waving.

“Miss Vigilant.” Riposte nodded shortly from beside her partner.

“Hello girls,” Paon nodded to them each in turn as she entered the car, settling across from Anansi while Mime sat across from Riposte. “What have you two been up too?”

“Vanisher’s busy with the movie contest, so we’re being substitute spies concerning the Guardians,” Riposte explained.

“We stood out like bunnies in a hamster cage,” Anansi shrugged.

“Well if someone hadn’t gone head to head against a passerby about which version of that crazy spider myth of yours we might have stayed under the radar,” Riposte snapped.

“I was correcting misinformation!” Anansi defended.

Paon just smiled as the girls’ squabble kept up throughout the drive to Anansi’s drop location. Teenagers.

Hopefully Adrien’s teen years would be easy for her and Gabriel to deal with.

They reached Riposte’s destination not long after, leaving Paon and Mime again in silence for the last few miles to the arranged meeting place.

It was surprising, really, how far away the meeting places were from each other in Paris. Entirely different sides of town could sport buildings perfect for their needs. Out of the public eye, whilst not being too far out of the way.

Paon stepped out of the car, scanning the area for traps. There were none, but it would hurt more if she just breezed by instead of checking. Mime flanked her as they entered the building, following the soft cooing of pigeons to the correct room.

They reached the door, and after a quick conversation in sign, agreed to both go inside and meet with the possible new guy.

Paon Vigilant paused in the entryway of the meeting room, doing her best to not let her emotions show through her mask. Monsieur Pigeon took his name seriously. Very seriously.

There were pigeons and feathers everywhere. Bird feeders hung in the open windows, and any birds that weren’t flocked around M. Pigeon himself were staring at them from said feeders.

Even though she used a bird for her symbol, the majestic peacock, she had never taken it this far. Even Gabriel knew better than to take his butterfly symbol quite that far.

A part of Monsieur Ramier’s charm, or so she would suppose.

“Ah ha ha! You must be from the Miraculous Syndicate.” he shot out of his seat, moving irregularly across the room and scattering pigeons. “A pleasure to meet you! Isn’t that right my lovelies?” he chittered at two of the birds still on his arm, then turned back to her. “I am Monsieur Pigeon, if Hawkmoth didn’t tell you before he sent you.” The pigeons moved to his shoulders, leaving an arm open for him to offer his hand to her.

“Paon Vigilant,” she answered, taking it carefully. She pulled it back right after and gestured to Mime. “And this is my colleague, The Mime.”

“Not one for talking, is he?” Pigeon asked, tilting his head. “That’s okay! My darlings don’t talk much either, but we still make an amazing team. Isn’t that right my boy?” the pigeon in question just cooed, rubbing their head against his neck.

Paon was in crazy town. But he was said to be a good fighter, so she would have to trust that. And finish this interview.

“I’m sure that’s true. So you and your... friends... think you’ll be a good addition to our team? Most try rather hard to avoid being pulled into this, don’t they?”

She glanced around the room again, taking in the pigeons cooing around her, and wrinkled her nose ever so slightly at the smell of the poop wafting about the room. It was going to be a very long meeting.

***

“Well that was… a unique experience,” Paon voiced, pulling her mask off once safely back in the lair.

“Oh?” Hawkmoth prompted, leaning on his cane.

“Pigeon is not enough warning. He had at least thirty with him, and they all had names, and he was really nice, but I’m not sure how much he’d actually be able to do. We’re supposed to be scary, not nice.” Emilie handed the mask and hat to Hawkmoth, moving onto her hair.

“Are the pigeons at least unsettling?”

“Very,” Emilie assured him, walking over to where Catalyst was waiting.

“Anansi will be out soon, we could always use another bodyguard.” Catalyst offered, handing Emilie her purse. She took it and dropped her hair pins into it.

“I suppose you’re right. Nathalie, how long do we have until the film contest?”

“Two hours,” Catalyst replied.

“Perfect! We have some time to spend on the fashion world! Your newest line is due in two weeks, right?”

“It’s the one to go with Marinette’s hat.” Gabriel explained. “I still need to meet with her for the last set of checkups. Movie night?”

“I’m up for that!” Emilie agreed. “But only after you change back. Nathalie, do you want to join us?”

“After I finish the paperwork from today’s missions I might join you. You two should go ahead.”

“Alright.” Emilie moved back to hug Hawkmoth. “See you later Nathalie! Hit the button Lovebug.”

#Mlss #Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa #Miraculous Secret Santa #Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa 2018 #Emilie Agreste #Gabriel Agreste #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Nora Cesaire #Fred Haprele #Gina Dupain #Befana #tw: blood #So i killed two characters who you only see for a few sentences #sorry? #Mafia AU #Ml Aus

[iloveyoupittsburghpirates-blog]

Goodbye, Pittsburgh Pirates

My Dearest Pittsburgh Pirates, 

Happy Opening Day! Look, we have to talk. It’s not that I don’t love you. I still do. Very much. But it’s just become difficult for me to invest so much in this relationship when you don’t’ seem to invest the same. It’s not me, it’s you. I didn’t send you a final letter at the end of last season because it coincided with the front office again claiming that the more fans buy tickets, the more they can spend. That’s holding your fan base hostage and I have no tolerance for that nonsense. This isn’t a break up though. I will still watch you religiously and will still root for you unabashedly. I might send you a letter from time to time but that will be it. This offseason was tough to take. Not that I don’t think you could be successful this year. There’s a realistic scenario where you could be. It’s just hard to stomach the payroll dipping to about 75 million and then, on top of that, to see newly signed Lonnie Chisenhall and Jordan Lyles start the season on the IL (injured list). Bang up job with Chisenhall by the way. The guy will miss exactly the amount of time we needed him for. You traded away Ivan Nova away for no reason, other than a salary dump, and for nothing only to have no reliable fifth starter especially now with Lyles injured. It’s hard to stomach seeing free agents like Jose Iglesias and Asdrubal Cabrera get one year, nothing contracts while you make no effort to fill your vacant spot at shortstop. You traded for Erik Gonzalez who could be good defensively, but could also have an OPS of .500. Your division is arguably the toughest in baseball with the Brewers, the Cubs, and the Cardinals adding an MVP candidate like Paul Goldschmidt. Even the Reds will be improved after trading for Yasiel Puig and Matt Kemp. It will be an uphill battle but hopefully you will surprise everyone.

Let’s meet the new players. JHay and Jordy Mercer signed with the Tigers this offseason so second base and shortstop were vacant. You made a low risk trade with the Indians to bring in the aforementioned Erik Gonzalez, or EGon. EGon is supposedly strong defensively. In 136 at bats in the majors last year, he had splits of .265/.301/.375 for a measly .676 OPS. He did sport a WAR of 0.6 which was more than JHay and Mercer’s WAR combined. If he’s terrific defensively, I’ll take a shortstop who hits .265 with no power. But that’s yet to be seen. Second base will be handled by Adam Frazier and I’ll discuss that more later. Lonnie Chisenhall and Melky Cabrera were added as outfield depth. Chisenhall had about an .860 OPS over the last two years but he only had 320 at bats in that time due to injury. In the least surprising news of all time, Chisenhall broke his hand and will miss four to six weeks. That means Melky Cabrera will start until Gregory Polanco returns from injury. Cabrera’s a switch hitter whose career splits are fairly even. With Polanco and Dickerson batting lefty, adding another righty bat to the bench will be helpful once Polanco returns. Jordan Lyles was brought in initially to help out of the bullpen. He was excellent in Milwaukee out of the pen last year but it seems like all signs point to him being the fifth starter. He cost seven million less than Nova so maybe that played a part. He’s had a shaky spring and now he’s injured so if he doesn’t perform then that Nova trade will look at the more stupid. With off days, you don’t need a fifth starter for the first week or two, so hopefully he’ll be ready by then Francisco Liriano is back in the Burgh. He will pitch out of the bullpen to give you another lefty arm down there other than Felipe Vasquez. All of these moves are cost efficient. They could work out, but in each scenario it seems like there were viable and better options out there that were ignored.

Let’s take a look at the offense. The opening day lineup seems pretty set to me which is: Frazier 2B, Marte CF, Dickerson LF, Bell 1B, Cervelli C, Kang 3B, Melky RF, EGon SS, Taillon SP. Not exactly a power house. Polanco is progressing well from his surgery so it’s realistic he could be back by the end of April which is a relief. Until then, this lineup could potentially suffer from a power outage. The one wildcard is the return of Jung-ho Kang. He hit 7 homers this spring and sports a 1.113 OPS. Actually, if you want to get excited about spring stats, which no one should, Kang, Marte, and Dickerson all have OPS’ over 1.000 and Adam Frazier’s is currently .998. Don’t sleep on Frazier. My gut tells me he will have a really good year at the plate. The new hitting coach, Rick Eckstein, made a commitment to focus more on launch angles when he was hired so maybe there’s some universe where you hit more homers this year. You need them. The bench should be relatively decent particularly once Polanco is back. With Melky now starting, the other four bench spots will be Stallings for now, but Diaz when he comes back. Then it will be Colin Moran, Pablo Reyes, Kevin Newman, and J.B. Shuck, a free agent signed to a minor league deal, until Polanco or Chisenhall return. You ranked near the bottom of the league in homers last year. You don’t have a legitimate MVP candidate when everyone else in your division does (Cards - Goldschmidt, Cubs - Rizzo/Bryant, Brewers - Yelich, Reds - Votto) so that certainly puts you at a disadvantage. Kang should provide more power. Bell needs to bounce back and hit more homers. Marte, Dickerson, and Polanco need to be one of the best offensive outfields in baseball. If Frazier hits and the catching tandem can match what they did last year, this offense will surprise people. That’s the optimistic perspective. There’s also a potential version where this is one of the weaker offenses in baseball, but I’m trying to remain positive.

Pitching is the name of the game. Always has been and always will be. This part of the team could make serious waves this year. It’s arguably the best staff in the division. Pairing Jameson Taillon, who pitched like an ace from June on last year, with Chris Archer, an ace who tinkered with his pitches and looked terrific in September, could be a beastly one-two punch. Archer’s OPS against went from .926 in August to .678 in September. His ERA went from 6.45 to 2.70 and his WHIP decreased from 1.74 to 1.07. If his September lasted for a whole season, he would be a Cy Young candidate. The three and four spots will be taken by Trevor Williams and Joe Musgrove. Williams broke out last year with a 3.11 ERA and a 1.17 WHIP. His lack of strikeouts leads people to believe he will regress, but his weak contact numbers give hope that this is sustainable. Even if his ERA rises into the mid to high three’s, he will still be a solid starter. Musgrove recovered from offseason core surgery so here’s hoping there’s no hangover or issues. Musgrove pitched solid last year with a 4.06 ERA and a 1.18 WHIP. Given he was once a blue-chip prospect who hadn’t got a real chance to start in the majors, there’s reasonable that he could improve. Even if he can duplicate last year’s numbers, you would have a pretty solid starter on your hands. The fifth spot will most likely be filled by Jordan Lyles, once he’s back, and that’s by default. This situation might be the biggest ball drop by the organization. You thought you could get by on the cheap with Lyles, Nick Kingham, or Steven Brault. Brault was horrible this spring and Kingham was inconsistent to say the least. That leaves you with Lyles. If he’s terrible, you could go with an opener/bullpen day as the fifth starter but that’s not ideal. You downgraded your rotation because you wanted to save seven million. Those are the kinds of decisions that I can’t take anymore.

The bullpen should be a strength of the team. Should be. Felipe Vasquez had an absolutely dominant spring and should continue to be one of the best closers in baseball. Your two setup men were not as impressive. Kyle Crick and Keone Kela both struggled this spring, Kela in particular. I’m not about to panic over spring training stats. If they pitch like last year, you will have one of the best back ends of a bullpen in baseball. Add Richard Rodriguez to that mix, one of the surprises of last year, and that’s four solid arms in the pen. The wildcard of this group is Nick Burdi. A rule 5 guy, Burdi has pitched only pitched 9 1/3 innings this spring but he has 13 K’s, a 1.93 ERA, and a 0.75 WHIP. This could be the front office’s next diamond in the rough. Nick Kingham will make the team as a long reliver for the games when Lyles gets crushed. Add in Liriano, who matches up well against lefties, and the lowly Steven Brault until Lyles returns and there’s your seven relievers. The bullpen should be the strength of the team. They could be an elite unit. Time will tell, especially given the volatility of relievers, but if this season turns out to be a success, pitching will most likely be the catalyst.

You finished 82-80 last year and, depending on when Polanco returns, I think this is a better team. I think a full year of Archer and Taillon in ace form makes a big difference. I think getting Kang back to add power to the lineup makes a big difference. Is it possible you end up at .500 or below? Yes.  Very. But I think this could be an 85 to 90 win team which might mean a trip to the playoffs. For that to happen, a lot of things will have to go right. I know this letter comes off much more positive than I would have first made you believe. The problem is you did not do everything in your power to put the team in the best position to win. Maybe you think Mitch Keller will be up soon? But you had a solid fifth starter that you traded away as a salary dump. Jose Iglesias signed a minor league deal with the Reds. You could have at least brought him in to challenge EGon and Newman. It’s hard to take you seriously when you say your goal is to win a World Series but then you make decisions like this. I’m not saying you need to fork over 330 million to Bryce Harper. I’m just saying pay Nova nine million for one year to be your fifth starter. Any time I hear Nutting, Coonelly, or even Huntington talk, I don’t believe a word they say. It’s hard to be in a relationship when there is no trust. This offseason was as half assed as they come. You are 27th in payroll, only in front of the Marlins and Orioles (who are both in a total rebuild) and the Rays (who perpetually don’t spend a dime) so that’s nothing to hang your hat on. If you don’t perform well out of the gate, you better do something drastic like extend Taillon because you could quickly lose your fan base. There are reasons to be positive but there are equally as many reasons to be furious. This is why I just can’t do it anymore. I love you. I will always love you. But I need some space. I’ll still write you (mostly whenever you do something infuriating) and I’ll never stop watching. I can’t believe I’ve been writing you these letters for six years. Six! Wow! It all started in 2013. Your greatest season since 1992. It’s amazing where we were then to where we are now. I hope this doesn’t ruin opening day which, regardless of situation, is always a great day. Just remember, even if you aren’t getting letters from me, I’ll be watching. I’ll always be watching. I love you and that will never change. So long, for now.                                                                                                                                                                                Love Always,

                                                                                 Brad                              

P.S. stands for Please Spend. Please lock up Jameson Taillon to a long-term deal. With the way free agency went this offseason, everyone and their mother are signing extensions to avoid free agency. It’s the hot thing to do right now so hop on the bandwagon. It’s a no-brainer especially given how long it will take him to hit free agency. He should be here through the Mitch Keller and KeBryan Hayes promotions. Those two, plus maybe Cole Tucker, could prove to be stars. Having Taillon anchor that rotation for the next seven years is the right call. You didn’t spend any legitimate money this offseason. This is the least you could do for the fan base…

[joonie-beanie]

Oh, Baby (Namjoon x Reader) Pt. 17

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [Pt 7] [Pt 8] [Pt 9] [Pt 10] [Pt 11] [Pt 12] [Pt 13] [Pt 14] [Pt 15] [Pt 16] [Pt 18]

Pairing: Namjoon/RM x Reader Rating: M Genre: Smut/Mafia-ish AU

Words: 4,982

Summary: You were only supposed to have seen him twice. Only twice, no more, but now you’re getting dragged into situations you never wished for and Namjoon just keep showing up.

A/N: Hey would you look at that. I managed an update...I think? I’m really tired rn lmao. Jet lag is still kicking my ass. Anyway! 3 chapters left after this~ I just finished the plot too, so hopefully I’ll be able to update faster. No promises though lol. 

Enjoy~

Yoongi finds himself standing in Namjoon’s living room, fingers fiddling with the bowtie around his neck. He decides to wear it loose, and judges against wearing any kind of necklace, because the last thing he needs is additional routes leading to death by strangulation.

His black button down is fitted to him well—tucked neatly into his dark trousers. His blazer hangs by his sides, unbuttoned, and he feels too open without a gun tucked beneath his belt. The realization makes him frown, but he knows this is the safest route, and instead moves to mess with his cufflinks instead.

A few seconds later, a door clicks open behind him, and Yoongi turns to survey his closest friend.

Namjoon’s outfit is perhaps a little more suited to a ball atmosphere than Yoongi’s. His velvet black blazer is a little…flashy (at least in Yoongi’s opinion), but beneath the blazer his white dress shirt is perfectly unwrinkled, very loosely tucked into the waistband of his tight-fitting…

“Are those jeans?” Yoongi questions, frowning in distaste, and Namjoon turns to stare at him. His eyes rake Yoongi up and down, and then he frowns as well.

“If you’re allowed to go to a ball wearing all black, I’m not allowed to take liberty with my clothes and decide to wear dark jeans?”

“Touché,” Yoongi concedes, but rolls his eyes. After all, in the end, their outfits aren’t exactly the most imperative part of tonight. They’re not going to this ball to have a good time.

Staring at his best friend, Yoongi feels nostalgia pang within his chest. Namjoon is no longer the scared 19 year old Yoongi had decided to pitifully share half his meal with all those years ago, when he’d spotted Namjoon curled in on himself in the back of the gang’s hideout. He’d been thin—hair unkempt, and face unshaved—not moving from his spot unless called upon. He had looked like the whole world was crumbling around him, when in reality the world continued to move, and Namjoon had instead decided to disconnect.

He hadn’t looked too young to be a part of their gang—younger kids than him had gotten into the mafia way of life—but at a mere glance Yoongi could tell that Namjoon hadn’t joined by choice. And while Yoongi had, that didn’t mean couldn’t sympathize, and that he never regretted his decision.

And so, Yoongi had managed to get Namjoon to raise his head—and not out fear of discipline, but out of curiosity—because Namjoon had heard the sincere concern in Yoongi’s tone. And kindness—which had vanished from Namjoon’s life weeks before—was exactly what he needed to feel in that moment.

Almost immediately, Namjoon had taken to Yoongi like a lost puppy, and while, at that time, Yoongi had no real intention of becoming Namjoon’s keeper, he had let the younger boy stay near.

After that, slowly, Namjoon had opened up—no longer refusing to acknowledge the new world which he resided in—and, in return, Yoongi had quietly begun to take to Namjoon. His wit and knowledge became obvious to their men. He was able to tackle problems or lay out strategies within seconds. And the more Yoongi realized that Namjoon wasn’t just a scared kid with no hope, the more Yoongi’s heart had let Namjoon in.

However, it was Namjoon who—during the moment that the world flipped upside down—grabbed Yoongi’s hand, looked him straight in the eyes, and had told him that they needed to run.

It was Yoongi who, when another, stronger gang attacked their hideout, stood in shock, hand reaching toward his gun, ready to run into the fray. When Namjoon stopped him, Yoongi’s anger had exploded—where was the loyalty?? Their gang was being attacked! And yet, the seriousness swirled together with the heartache in Namjoon’s eyes, and, as the screams of the men he had come to know rang out in the background, Namjoon had asked Yoongi one question.

“Are you ready to die?”

That day, Namjoon and Yoongi had abandoned their gang.

Yoongi had feared for the future—what would become of them? What would happen if anyone from their gang found out that they had abandoned them that day? Yet, when no one came looking for them after the massacre, it became obvious that had Yoongi not fled with Namjoon, he would be dead as well.

“Do you ever wish you would’ve fled alone?” Yoongi finds himself asking, eyes angled towards the space on the floor between him and Namjoon. Silence descends, and Yoongi glances up, meeting Namjoon’s puzzled, slightly angry stare.

“Do you wish I had?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yoongi mumbles, and Namjoon turns to look in the floor length mirror on the wall. Yoongi watches him as he silently messes with his styled blond hair, which has now gone dark at the roots.

“After my whole world crumbled, you were the only one that managed to make me see hope again. If you had died that day, I don’t know where I’d be.”

Yoongi sighs at the sentimentality, “Joon—”

“You know I’m right,” Namjoon interrupts, eyes flicking up and meeting Yoongi’s through the mirror. “Do you regret coming with me?”

“No,” Yoongi answers without hesitation, and Namjoon nods his head, satisfied. However, Yoongi only sighs again, back hunching as he furrows his brows. The room descends into silence, and when Namjoon moves to grab his wallet and keys from the kitchen table—brushing past Yoongi—the elder finally speaks up.

“You know, Joon…if we do this tonight we’re probably fucked.”

Without pausing in his stride, seemingly unbothered, Namjoon replies.

“You can back out if you want. I wouldn’t blame you.”

At that, Yoongi bites his tongue angrily, arm lashing out as he takes a step forward.

“You’re—! You’re such a fucking softie, and goddamn I think a part of me hates you for it, but I’m not bitching out now. Not after all the shit we’ve been through together.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Namjoon responds sincerely, and his tone causes Yoongi’s building frustration to melt. Instead, curiosity coats his next question.

“But…why now? Why her? You’ve come so far, and are risking the loss of so much…”

At that, Namjoon pauses. He stares at the table top, face relaxed even as he attempts to find a way to describe the thoughts floating around in his mind.

As he thinks, Yoongi moves around to the other side of the kitchen, gathering up his own keys and wallet. It’s not until the two are beside each other at the door to Namjoon’s apartment that he finally answers.

“It’s because…I see a lot of me in her. A college student that got dragged into a different world because of a mistake. My mistake. I made a mistake by confusing her for Jaehyuk’s daughter, but I don’t regret letting her go—not even when you dragged her back here a second time. I was the catalyst for all of this—so no matter my feelings for her—I owe her this much. I have to do right by her, hyung. I know you must understand.”

“I do,” Yoongi responds quietly, stepping out after Namjoon as the two exit his apartment. They both pause to stare at the closed door, wondering if they’ll ever see it again, but nonetheless they turn their backs and move on.

They don’t have any more time to dwell what was or what could’ve been. They need to get moving.

Because tonight, it all ends.

The closer Namjoon and Yoongi get to Jeon Enterprises, the more crowded the streets become. Lanes are blocked off—police are directing guest’s one direction or another, pointing the VIP’s towards the valet parking. However, Yoongi doesn’t follow the flow of traffic. He takes a back alleyway, splitting off from Namjoon—who had been driving in front of him.

Since Namjoon is a guest, he has no reason to beat around the bush about his means of entry. But Yoongi, on the other hand—

He pulls into the fresh parking lot of a building under construction. The “Do Not Enter” signs have been moved out of the way, and when Yoongi turns into the lot, he immediately spots Jimin, leaning against the trunk of his car. There’s a case of guns laid out in front of him, and he’s checking every magazine, making sure each firearm is ready to go.

However, when Yoongi’s headlights flash against the side of Jimin’s car as he pulls into a nearby parking spot, Jimin’s head jolts up. His hand instinctively reaches for a gun, but when he sees that it’s Yoongi, he relaxes.

“Where are the others?” Yoongi asks, stepping out of his vehicle, and Jimin grunts.

“Where do you think? Everything is on track right now. Did Namjoon hyung head to the ball?”

“Yeah. He was right ahead of me,” Yoongi confirms, stepping up beside Jimin, and when he reaches for one of the guns Jimin smacks his hand away. Yoongi clicks his tongue, grumbling.

“I wasn’t gonna do anything…”

“I didn’t think you were,” Jimin laughs, and then, after surveying the array of firearms one more time, flips the case shut and locks it. Turning, he meets Yoongi’s stare and then hands the case over. Yoongi takes it, the armored case heavy in his grasp.

“We better get going,” Jimin tells him, “the ball should already be in full swing, and I don’t know how long—”

“Yeah—just—give me a second, Minnie,” Yoongi interrupts. He steps forward, caging Jimin against the trunk of the car, and Jimin cocks an eyebrow. Not daring to say anything, Yoongi lifts his free hand and caresses Jimin’s rosy cheek.

After a few seconds, the older sighs.

“If I die—”

“You won’t.”

“—shut up, brat. If I die, I want you to know how I feel, so—”

“You’re not going to die, hy—,” Jimin begins to refute yet again, but part way through his words Yoongi’s lips find his, and he’s silenced. Jimin stares at Yoongi’s half lidded eyes in shock, but when the elder grips Jimin’s chin, eyes closing as he deepens the kiss, Jimin presses forward. His hands cup Yoongi’s face, eyes pressing shut as he returns the gesture.

Neither of them are quite sure how long their bout of kisses last, but it’s not until Jimin is fully seated on the trunk of his car, Yoongi’s free hand gripping the younger’s ass, that Yoongi finally manages to break away.

“Didn’t you say we needed to go?” he whispers against Jimin’s lips, and Jimin nods, his hand untangling from Yoongi’s hair.

“Yeah,” he says, just as quiet, and with one final kiss Yoongi and Jimin separate. They pile into Jimin’s car, the case of firearms resting on Yoongi’s lap, and without another word exit the structure.

10 minutes later, Jimin pulls up behind the Jeon enterprises building. He and Yoongi take a single glance at each other, sharing a determined nod, and then Yoongi spills out of the car. He’s never been a good actor, exactly, but right now he’ll certainly put aside any fear embarrassment in order to fulfill his role.

“Hey--,” the security guard yells at him as he flurries past the gate, but Yoongi doesn’t stop, instead pointing to the case in his hand.

“I’m part of the photography crew! I’m late—!”

“You still need to check in!” the security guard yells back, hand on his walkie as he prepares to give chase, but at that moment a figure appears at the back entrance of the building.

“Hey! Where the hell have you been??” the male calls, and Yoongi silently approves of the fact that Hoseok doesn’t look like he’s shaking in his boots. Apparently he can get his shit together when he needs to.

“Sorry! I got caught up in all the traffic!” Yoongi apologizes sheepishly as Hoseok pulls him inside, and when Yoongi chances a glance over his shoulder, he notes that the security guard has now given up on chasing him.

What a shitty guard, but then again, lucky for them.

Continuing to pull Yoongi along, Hoseok eventually stops and darts into a small side room. He locks the door behind Yoongi, and then proceeds to release the most stressed sigh Yoongi has ever heard, his body deflating.

“You’ve made it this far,” Yoongi comments, attempting to give Hoseok some reassurance as he kneels down and opens the brief case. Hoseok makes a small noise at the sight of the guns, but Yoongi pays him no mind.

“Get undressed.”

“You’re such the friendly guy, Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok snorts sarcastically, but nonetheless begins taking off his clothes. Pleated white dress shirt, form fitting black slacks, and a black bowtie around his neck—he looks perfectly like one of the waiters scattered throughout the ballroom.

“And no one could tell that you weren’t a part of the crew?” Yoongi says, standing as he begins to undress as well. Hoseok shakes his head.

“Everyone is too busy. Too many important people here. They saw the way I was dressed and immediately assumed I was wait-staff without even asking.”

“Good,” Yoongi says, and once the two males are down to their wife beaters and briefs, they change clothes.

“A little big but it will work,” Yoongi comments, smoothing his hands down the front of Hoseok’s clothing. Once Hoseok is dressed, he looks Yoongi over as well.

“You fit the part. But are you sure you wanna change roles? After the security guard saw you?”

“The fat fuck doesn’t give a shit. He’s gonna sit out there all night tapping his foot to the music. Why? You want to be the one confronting our good friends Jaehyuk and Jeon? Or would you rather pose as the photographer and pass out some guns?”

Hoseok sighs, brows furrowing. “Jin hyung did say passing out guns would be safer…”

“Then there you go, Hoseok,” Yoongi responds, smacking the younger male on the shoulder. Hoseok winces, but nonetheless leans down and picks up the briefcase. Before he can begin filling the guns into the fake camera bag also stuffed within the case, however, Yoongi is sure to stop him, picking out his gun of choice. He tucks it beneath his belt, and thankfully the weapon remains hidden due to the length of his suit jacket.

Nodding, Yoongi then spares Hoseok one last glance before he straightens himself out and exits the room. He knows that Hoseok will take another minute or two before he’s done concealing the guns, but that’s fine, because Yoongi doesn’t need anyone wondering why a photographer and waiter had been locked in a closet together.

Deciding to follow the sound of the music, Yoongi maneuvers his way down the short halls. He breathes deep, trying to relax the tense muscles in his back and shoulders, and reminds himself that all he can do for now is trust in their plan, and play his role the best he can. He hates feeling nervous—like his win isn’t guaranteed—but if everything goes as it should, then…

Yoongi pauses. On his right is a small pantry, in which a few other waiters are refilling trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Popping his head into the room, Yoongi happily offers to take one of the trays out to the floor, and the other waiter’s just grunt at him, moving their heads in a way that Yoongi can tell is approval.

So, after grabbing a tray, Yoongi turns back around and continues following the chatter and flow of people to the ballroom floor. For a brief second, he pauses in the entrance way, the expanse of the pristine room stretching before him, but in that moment any of his persistent nervousness is squashed by the determination of what he must do, and he starts forward.

First things first—he needs to find you.

You find yourself toted around the ballroom like some kind of show dog—Jaehyuk keeping you in close proximity, and more times than not his hand gripping your wrist or resting heavily on your waist. Between the millions of thoughts going on in your mind, you still manage to note that Jaehyuk doesn’t seem entirely comfortable being at the center of the ball.

I suppose he is supposed to be dead, you think, blaming his behavior on that. You’re sure there are people here who heard rumors and would be shocked to see that Jaehyuk is up and walking.

Speaking of—

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” you hear him say, his fingernails digging into your waist, and you force a smile on instinct. You don’t even know who it is you’re talking to, or what has been said. “Tonight, Kim Namjoon dies” has been on the forefront of your mind from the moment Jaehyuk had said it, and you can’t deny that since then you’ve been trying to spot Namjoon, rather than paying attention to the people Jaehyuk has begun to converse with.

Understandably, you’re still in shock. Jeon teaming up with Jaehyuk…Namjoon being targeted by them both, and the fact that they’re apparently planning to kill him at the ball tonight. Which means that he’s here, just within your reach, but…it’s… it’s just... a lot to try and wrap your head around, really. But you aren’t given the chance to figure out all your thoughts—aren’t given a second to take a deep breath and reaffirm your hopes that everything will turn out alright. Which is why, right now, you’re panicked and nervous and definitely not acting the way Jaehyuk expects his perfect little “daughter” to.

“I apologize,” you say after you feel Jaehyuk’s grip tighten, vaguely managing to hear the couple in front of you asking if you’re alright. “I’m very taken by this song, and began to recall some memories of dancing to it, that is all. I’m sorry my attention was elsewhere, but please, continue the conversation.”

You smile, hoping it comes across as reassuring, and you must succeed in plastered said emotion on your face, because the couple across from you immediately smiles in understanding, the conversation turning towards the atmosphere of the ball rather than whatever the 3 had been discussing before.

This time, you attempt to keep your eyes straight and your ears focused on what is being said, but it’s still hard. Should you run? If Namjoon is here maybe you’ve got a fighting chance with him. Jaehyuk is certainly overwhelming when you’re just by yourself, but maybe if Namjoon were here he would be able to snatch you away, and you could both be out of here before Jeon or Jaehyuk had the chance to do anything.

Or…or maybe Jungkook (your heart aches at the thought of him, since you have to consider the possibility that he was never your friend, even though you’d come to care for him so deeply) would be surprised to see you and come to intercept you and Jaehyuk. The entire ballroom is so large…if only you could get away and run for the exit, then maybe—

“Hey,” Jaehyuk growls, his tight grip switching to your wrist as he begins pulling you away from where you’d been standing. You break out of your thoughts, looking up to find him staring back at you with a highly displeased glare, and you can only guess that wherever he’s dragging you right now will be a place where no one will be able to hear his angry, berating words.

The thought of fighting him off and trying to run once again enters your mind, but—

At that moment a shoulder roughly bumps into you—hard enough to cause Jaehyuk to lose his grip on you, and for your ass to hit the ground. You’re already thinking about how your chest and ass are going to be sore for the next few days from the blow when a hand descends in front of your face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” a voice rings out, and you’d call it unfamiliar, but it’s…not. “Are you ok? I didn’t even see you.”

You turn your eyes upward, opening your mouth to assure the person that you are, but when you see the person’s face no words come out. Dark eyes, an unblemished rounded face, and freshly dyed brown hair—but despite the change in color there is no mistaking this man.

Min Yoongi.

His face expresses sincere surprise, his hand still offered to you as he kneels down, meeting your shocked stare head on. Yet, there’s something in his eyes, this seriousness that causes your previously racing mind to pause. A sliver of your rationality comes back, and you realize that if Yoongi is here, something must be going on.

Your eyes quickly scan his body, noting that he’s not dressed like a guest. In fact, he looks like one of the waiters you’d seen wandering around—and your educated guess is also confirmed by the fact there’s a silver serving plate stashed under his other arm.

If Yoongi is posing as a waiter, then—

You meet his stare again, and his gaze hardens. You see Jaehyuk’s shadow loom over Yoongi, and your throat tightens, but Yoongi nods his head ever so slightly, inclining his outstretched hand towards you again, and you breathe deep.

Trust me.

And you do, reaching your hand forward and placing it in Yoongi’s. His face changes back to a look of worry as he stands and reclaims his role as a waiter, asking again if you’re uninjured. However, as he does so, helping you back to your feet, he squeezes your hand so hard in his grasp that it feels like your bones might break, and you hiss in pain.

What the--?! Wasn’t he supposed to be helping you?!

“Crap, did you hurt your hand?” he asks, fake concern lacing his voice, and he squeezes your hand once more before loosening his grip. You get the idea.

“I—I must have,” you say, pretending to be hurt, as Yoongi begins to gingerly look your hand over. You note he doesn’t completely let go of you, not even when Jaehyuk steps up, face red with annoyance, and tries to tug you away.

“Why the hell weren’t you watching where you were going?” he accuses Yoongi, his hand wrapping around your waist, and you see Yoongi clench his jaw slightly before relaxing and figuring out what lie to say next.

“I’m sorry, sir, it was my mistake. But it seems like her hand is hurt,” Yoongi says, and Jaehyuk’s eyes flit down to where Yoongi is still steadily holding your hand, keeping it level, as if something had been broken.

“We have a medical room on this floor if you’d like to—”

Jaehyuk’s eyes narrow before Yoongi can say anymore. “She’ll be fine, I’m sure,” he says, tone clipped, and his eyes rake Yoongi up and down, suspicion clearly painted on his face. Luckily, it seems Jaehyuk doesn’t know who Yoongi is, because he takes no drastic measures—simply tightens his grip on you and prepares to walk away.

“Sir, it really wouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure we could find a doctor nearby as well if you don’t trust our medical staff—”

“Like I said,” Jaehyuk nearly hisses, tugging you away from Yoongi and causing him to lose his grip on your hand, “I’m sure she’s fine—!”

Your eyes widen as Jaehyuk begins to drag you away, Yoongi temporarily dropping his façade as his face morphs into a scowl, his feet moving on their own as he takes a step forward to pursue the both of you. There’s no way he can let you get away--! But…suddenly he stops, eyes shifting over your shoulder, and you see some of the desperation wash out of his gaze.

“I heard someone say that you may be in need of a doctor—is there anything I can do to help?”

God, this is not a voice you had expected to hear, but you’d recognize this friendly, professional tone anywhere. And, sure enough, when you turn along with Jaehyuk to find who had spoken, you end up face to face with none other than Kim Seokjin. His smile is tinged with a little more stress than you’re used to seeing, but this is, indeed, Jin.

“Like I said, she’s fine,” Jaehyuk repeats himself, his fingers curling into your already bruised waist, and you can tell that he’s getting desperate. It’s no longer just Yoongi that he needs to get away from. Jin and Yoongi have him caught on both sides. It’s 2 on 1, and suddenly things are starting to turn in your favor.

“Sir, I assure you I have the credentials to be treating her. Here,” Jin speaks up, still smiling friendlily. He doesn’t seem to be put off by Jaehyuk’s obviously nervous outbursts, even though to any regular person you’re sure it would be transparent that something somewhat out of the ordinary was occurring right now.

Begrudgingly, and somewhat curious, Jaehyuk reaches out and takes the business card Jin produces without ever letting you out of his grasp. As his eyes turn down to read the writing on the face of the card, your eyes flick up to Jin’s. His eyes crease, smile becoming more genuine, and you almost feel like crying.

For the first time in many days you are finally beginning to feel that you’ll be able to get out of here—with everyone—and achieve your happy ending.

“Kim Seokjin, huh?” Jaehyuk speaks up, and you hear the interest in his tone. Clearly he suspects Jin far less than Yoongi. “What’s a young, handsome doctor like you doing here, of all places?”

“Oh, you know,” Jin laughs, playing it cool. “Looking to make a few…ties. See if anyone would like to bargain with my services, to help me get what I want.”

You know for a fact that Jin is lying, but clearly Jaehyuk doesn’t, because his eyes light up like its Christmas. Clearly he’s enthralled at the idea of having a doctor on his side. What mafia boss wouldn’t be?

“I may be able to help with that,” Jaehyuk chuckles, and reaches out his free hand. “Jaehyuk.”

Smiling wider, Jin reaches his hand out as well, and as soon as the two make contact Jaehyuk curses, rearing back. The grip on your waist disappears, and you take a step away, immediately running into Yoongi who is already at your side.

“What…?” Jaehyuk mumbles, turning his hand palm side up. He’s bleeding, but only slightly. And the wound…it almost looks the size of a needle.

Rage filling his eyes, Jaehyuk turns his eyes up to Jin. “You--!” He notes that you’ve backed into Yoongi, being held by him protectively, and his face darkens. “What did you--!”

At that moment, just as Jaehyuk’s voice begin to crescendo, his anger reaching new heights in the middle of his panicking, he stops. He sways on his feet, and you watch as his eyes roll into the back of his skull. Someone nearby gasps, but Jin is at Jaehyuk’s side before he can hit the floor.

“It’s ok, I’m a doctor!” He assures as other patrons of the ball gather around the scene. Clearly no one had been focused on their previous interactions, because no one suspects that Jin is the one who has caused this. Instead, they praise him for being so quick acting in such a situation, and Jin begins to conduct a fake evaluation on Jaehyuk.

At that moment, Yoongi moves his grip to your wrist and begins to hurriedly tug you away. Jin looks up when he sees the movement, and he flashes you one last sympathetic smile, one that reads ‘it will be ok, Y/N—breathe’ before you lose his face in the crowd.

High above the dance floor, watching from the large window of his private room, Jeon narrows his eyes. Stood beside him, Taehyung’s eyes sort through the crowd on the floor below. He hadn’t been paying much attention before now, but both he and Jeon had heard the murmurs, and had walked over to see what was going on.

“What’s happening?” a third voice suddenly questions, and Jeon Jungkook steps up on the other side of his father, eyes worriedly scanning the floor below.

“Not sure,” Taehyung comments, but he has begun to piece everything together. Even though most of the patrons below look like ants, he can still spot that in the center of the commotion there is a man lying on the floor, and that that someone looks eerily like their good old pal Jaehyuk.

Which means…

Taehyung begins to search the surrounding crowd, and it’s not hard to spot the two bodies weaving their way away from the scene.

“I’m going to go make sure everything is alright--!” Jungkook speaks up, turning to make for the door, but his father stops him.

“No, you will go nowhere,” he commands, voice like ice, and the CEO’s eyes shift over to Taehyung. It seems Jeon has noticed the cause of the disturbance as well.

“I think Cinderella may be trying to leave the ball early,” Taehyung comments quietly, his lips stretching into an amused grin, and Jeon grunts. His eyes slide shut, arms folding behind his back, and he turns away from Taehyung.

“Shame. Taehyung, go,” he speaks, and Taehyung doesn’t need to hear more than that.

Grin widening, Taehyung turns and makes for the door, pulling his gun from beneath his belt. He brushes past Jungkook and winks, not noticing the fear and worry that is apparent on the younger’s face.

“Be right back. Gotta kill some nosey mice and make sure our princess doesn’t get away.”

[Pt 16] | [Pt 18]

#oh baby #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #bts fic #bts mafia au #yoongi fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #yoonmin fic #well there's a little #idk how to tag #jin fic #hoseok fic #taehyung fic #namjoon fic #ok that's good #fic

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Shameless Season 11 Episode 6 Review: “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good…Eh, Screw It”

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This Shameless review contains spoilers.

Shameless Season 11 Episode 6

“It’s the end of an era…”

Shameless widely advertised that this is the series’ final season, but this episode is the first time that it’s actually felt like the end of the show and that it’s getting ready to say goodbye. The first half of Shameless season 11 has been very messy and it’s even often felt careless at times. This is a season that’s been about change, both in respect to the Gallaghers and Chicago as a whole, which is a theme that’s been explored in many different manners, some of which have been more successful than others. 

Past storylines haven’t necessarily complemented each other, but Shameless’ final season starts to connect some of these dots as it prepares to head off into the sunset. “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good…Eh, Screw It” is still a flawed episode, but it’s responsible and succeeds in a way that the rest of this season hasn’t.

Shameless finds itself at a turning point in its final season as it approaches the halfway mark and has characters in search of atonement for the radical decisions that are made in the previous episode. “Do Not Go Gentle…” begins with several Gallaghers in freefall mode and in a position where they can work towards redemption or just continue to enable their mistakes. This is hardly new behavior for the Gallaghers, but every mistake resonates more as the series gets closer to its conclusion. Lip glibly remarks that he only fell off the wagon for “just one night,” and it’s this mentality that’s a destructive note to leave the Gallaghers on. 

Lip drives the majority of the conflict in this episode and it’s seriously disappointing to watch him resort to robbery after coming so far. It’s major regression on his part and even though he leaves some racially motivated subterfuge to cover his tracks it still feels like he’d be the primary suspect in such a crime. It’s equally difficult to watch Lip skirt the truth while around Tami and deflect on important topics that he should be approaching with her as a team. Lip has screwed up plenty throughout Shameless, but he’s earned a happy ending at this point and it’s tough to watch the fragile life that he’s built for his new family continue to receive abuse. He gets pushed into a difficult corner that might affect the rest of the season. 

Lip is the worst offender in this episode, but Debbie comes in a close second when it comes to her relationship with Sandy and her future in general. This season should be about embracing the relationships that these characters have built rather than resorting to the same melodrama that polluted the earlier years of the show. Shameless eventually reaches this point, but it takes the season too long. This “surprise husband” twist feels like artificial conflict and it’s not even original considering that Shameless has covered all of this before with Jimmy/Steve/Jack/Rumplestiltskin. 

Extraneous drama may be Shameless’ expected routine, but all of this feels misguided, especially once Debbie seems ready to wipe the slate clean and reinvent herself through a new gig working at a gay bar. The majority of this rift is handled in a frustrating manner, but it’s resolution works well and helps provide some clarity to what’s been a very unfocused relationship. This story still would have worked better in the first or second episodes of this season, but hopefully the two will be stronger in what’s left of this season. Debbie has hopefully learned something from all of this, whereas it’s not clear that Lip has. 

Additionally, Debbie repairs things with Sandy, but her relationship with her daughter is still a disaster. It’s genuinely shocking that every episode has featured some despicable act from Debbie to Franny. It’s heartbreaking to see the damage that Debbie’s reckless behavior with Sandy has had on Franny, but also how Debbie pours salt in this wound in an unsuccessful attempt to use her daughter as a bargaining chip in her relationship drama. Franny is not in good hands.

Franny’s future is questionable, but Liam continues to prove why he’s become the beating heart of Shameless. He’s consumed with guilt over inadvertently shooting, and paralyzing, Terry Milkovich, which sends Liam down a spiritual tailspin where he worries over the fate of his eternal soul. Liam is such a pure, sweet presence in this series that it’d be tragic to see this random event cloud his future and send him down a dark path. His journey for absolution here is mostly played for laughs, but he at least feels like he’s properly repented by the end of the episode instead of accepting that he’s bound for hell and becoming worse. It’s also really endearing that Carl is the one who is able to soothe Liam and give him the right message after Frank’s advice only triggers existential dread.

Carl also does plenty of good outside of his family and it’s truly nice to see him use his new position of authority to selflessly help others. An earlier version of this show wouldn’t have been ashamed to have a Gallagher abuse their cop status to pressure someone into a date and so it’s extremely satisfying that the opposite is true with Carl. He’s a strong example of how much some of these characters have grown, as opposed to the destructive actions of Lip and Debbie.

“Do Not Go Gentle..’s” other major hurdle involves Frank and his dementia, which finally gets confirmed. Shameless honestly deserves some credit for the subtlety that it’s applied to this material. The hints that Frank has been mixing up names and events have been minimal and spread across several episodes. This is really the first time that Shameless draws some concentrated attention towards it. Frank’s ailing health is likely the big event that will frame the series’ final episodes and it’s enough of a catalyst for Shameless’ goodbye. Frank has often been an insufferable character in the past, but it’s been impressive to see how this year has carefully made him perhaps the most entertaining and enjoyable Gallagher so that this emotional blow will have as much impact as possible. 

Frank’s storylines and William H. Macy’s work in the role remains a highlight of this season and he’s already giving an impressive performance. However, it feels like Shameless is about to move into more somber territory on this front. There are small moments where Frank is around the rest of his family and earnestly smiles at their antics and the people that they’ve become, and they’re just so sincere. His family actively berates him, but Frank begins to value and take stock of what’s important to him in life and it really resonates.

It’s shocking to get a speech about cowardice and integrity from Frank to Terry Milkovich of all people, and that these two individuals are able to hang on while others like Lip are ready to cash in their chips. Frank and Terry’s resolve is over the frailty of their physical conditions, but it connects to the larger issue that Lip wants to sell the Gallagher house and leave Chicago behind. Lip tries to push the idea that selling the house is a positive change for everyone, but he’s the only one that literally needs this to happen and he shouldn’t get to be rewarded for his mistakes. 

This subject is far from resolved, but it begins to draw a line between the Gallaghers that have worked hard to rebuild their lives and those that continually tear down their own accomplishments. This decision might help everyone reach common ground, but it also has the potential to tear everyone even further apart.

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“Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good…Eh, Screw It” provides the clarity that this season has otherwise lacked and this hopefully means that the final batch of episodes will be just as focused and reflect the higher level of quality that Shameless is capable of achieving. There’s definitely the potential for what’s to come to devolve into sappy and saccharine storytelling, but this greater sense of urgency will hopefully aid these final episodes. Shameless is often needlessly vulgar and juvenile, but there’s also a real sensitivity to the program and it’s the right approach for these final episodes to begin to embrace that.

The post Shameless Season 11 Episode 6 Review: “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good…Eh, Screw It” appeared first on Den of Geek.

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