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acerathia · 4 months

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somebody's watching me || Chapter 6: Betray

Summary:

Meeting him was your fate, your salvation, and you shall do everything to keep things this way.

Wordcount: 5.6k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Getou Suguru / Reader

Tags/CW:

no-curse au, Getou is still a cult-leader, cults, Getou's fake personality, dark content, Major Character Death, Paranoia, schizoid form of anxiety disorder, isolation, overthinking (in connection to the anxiety), some form of descent into madness, violence, stream of consciousness to show the mental state of reader, everything has meaning (dreams, colors, symbols etc.), warped look on reality, dissociation, blind trust, indoctrination, manipulation, mind-altering practices, polarisation of people/society, peer pressure, denial of reality, emotional abuse, body horror, drugs (implied), hallucinations,

Note:

Please be cautious reading this work, as it contains heavy themes, which might affect some people. Minors do not interact!! ignore any editing mistakes, finally, this series is over, have fun with the last chapter

You awoke from your sleep with a gasp when you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was the woman who occupied the bed next to you. She whispered a single sentence to you. It was time. Then she left without further explanation. Hastily you fell out of bed and as fast as you could with your sleepy movements, you put on your shoes to hurry outside as well. With a quick stumble you followed the woman, even though she had put some distance between you.

Outside in a meadow, it seemed as if the whole group was already there, standing in formation.You made your way crouched in place, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. Still, you wondered what was happening in the middle of the formation and you stretched slightly to get a better look.

But before you could figure out anything, everyone stretched their arms toward the full moon. A hum flowed through the people and filled all the air. You tried to listen and recognize the melody, but it didn't seem to be a specific song. So you hummed a song of your own to yourself while concentrating on holding up your aching arms. Then you could make out a shadow slowly working its way out from the center of the formation. In the dim light of the moon, you recognized the leaders holding a bowl ringed by two girls. To see what exactly they were doing, you were far too far away. You wondered what was in the bowl?

You couldn't make out what the liquid was, even though they were standing in front of you. The light from the moon wasn't bright enough for that. But you could see the leader dipping his fingers into the dark liquid and stirring something in it. The others beside him seemed to be making random sounds, which you couldn't understand no matter how hard you focused. Then you felt it. The cool liquid on your skin. The pressure of his fingers. You had to pull yourself together not to just stop humming, to not lean closer to his touch. Was that paint? The leader placed his thumb on your cheekbone and drew a vertical line down. The same thing happened to the other side of your face. The liquid dripped hotly down your chin onto her collarbone, forming a small puddle there. Spread over your top like a wound. You felt sticky, but you could see a smile from the leader. That simple gesture alone sparked gratitude in you, desire warm in your blood.

That you even had the opportunity to be here and stand next to him, to look at him and enjoy his presence. The warmth of your heart contrasted with the chilling mark on your skin. You could barely stifle a smile as the leader then lined up next to you in formation and started another hum. This time, however, everyone else followed their tune. The humming seemed to get louder and louder, penetrating your scalp and pressing on your skull. Your field of vision flickered as if you were standing under a faulty lamp. You didn't know if your head was swaying, or if your vision just didn't want to work with you anymore. Were you tired?

That would explain the heaviness in your arms and the uncertainty in your knees. You tried to pull yourself together, really tried. But your body tipped forward without you being able to do anything about it. All your muscles seemed paralyzed. You could only dully feel your knees hitting the ground; the grass scraped against your calves. Was this happening to everyone? Or just to you? You kept trying to stay upright, but gravity was having a greater effect on you than usually. Suddenly you felt the ground against your forehead, against your cheek. When did the grass get so long? With hazy vision, you still recognized the glances of the leader in front of you. Frowns and anticipation. But of what? Before you could choke out a single syllable, your eyes failed you, and darkness enveloped you like a heavy cloak.

***

Several voices hovered over your head as you slowly regained consciousness. Where were you? This didn't feel like your bed. For a brief moment, you had forgotten where you were.

With a low moan, you tried to sit up, but your head felt like it was stuck in a clamp. Its claws dug firmly into your forehead. Your surroundings became silent and you slowly opened your eyes. From your narrow field of vision, you recognized a glass full of water. How much you wanted to drink this. So you reached out for it, even though it seemed to be shaking.

But you managed a firm grip to get the glass before letting the cool liquid enter your throat in heavy gulps. The cold woke you up a bit and cleared your brain. Then, as you put the empty glass away with an aching stomach, you took time to survey your surroundings. Though your stomach began to rebel and you started to feel nauseous, you did not make a sound. Your eyes roamed over the three people around you. Your eyes lingered on the face of the leader. You quickly avoided his gaze. This was the man who had offered you comfort and peace, and you had disappointed him. You licked your torn lips before an apology slipped heavily over your tongue. You had screwed up. You had ruined the moment. Tainted the tradition. You felt bad, uncomfortable, absolutely miserable. And rightfully so. You didn't deserve to be in this place anymore. Tightly you squeezed your eyes shut and hung your head. You wanted to hide your reaction to what was coming. How your insides were breaking, shattering. You expected a final decision about your expulsion. A painful kick in the butt. Even though you didn't want to hear any of these prompts, you couldn't say anything against it. After all, you deserved it.

But after a moment of waiting, nothing came. You were not insulted or called names. No harsh words which were wrapped in pity. The leader didn't say anything until you lifted your gaze again.

"I told you that you were special, and now it has been shown to all of us under the moon."

Whether there was a deeper meaning to that sentence? You did not know. Still, the weight of these words gave you a warm feeling. If you were special, then you hadn't ruined anything. This chance, the opportunity to continue to stay in this place, meant a lot to you; even more than your own life. I wonder if you could make any difference with this simple statement. Make a better life for the leaders and the whole group? But how could you help?

You didn't really have time to think about it, because a tray was pushed into your lap. Leftovers from the communal breakfast that you must have missed. A memory was hidden in this gesture. Despite the incident, you should still follow the rules. Therefore, you accepted the food, although you were not particularly hungry. You wanted to show your gratitude to the leader.

Still, you hesitated when your eyes landed on the food. Nothing about you had forgotten yesterday's meal. Hopefully, things would go differently this time. Slowly you stretched your fingers so that the trembling would not be noticed and reached for a piece of bread. This you smeared with the purple jam that had been provided. A breath escaped your nose before you took a bite of the crust.

It scratched the roof of your mouth before scraping across your throat. Of course, the food had a normal taste. What had you expected? Probably the whole thing yesterday was just another one of your delusions. Though you still looked skeptically at the fruit, not recognizing it, the rest seemed relatively normal. Even if the milk had a violet glow, which was perhaps just an illusion brought on by the light. You were not worried. What was supposed to be in the food? No one in this group would poison the other or add anything questionable. Everyone was far too cozy with each other for that.

After eating the food with sudden hunger, you noticed that everyone had left the cabin again. Where do you think they were going? You couldn't follow them, even if you wanted to. You didn't know the place well enough for that yet. Should you try anyway?

Before you could make a decision, the door swung open and a bunch of people came in. Without much talk, all these people made their way to their beds to sit cross-legged. Was this a new activity? You weren't sure, but still followed their lead. The last to enter the room was the leader. You made your way to the center to sit on the floor. With your back bent, you waited for his instructions.

The silence seemed charged before the leader finally began to speak.

"Close your eyes and relax... Breathe deeply through your nose, feel it to the last corner of your lungs.

One, two, three, four.

Now let it all out of your mouth.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Good, breathe in through your nose again.

With each breath, continue to release your thoughts, let them out, preferably right out of your lungs. Breathe it all out, freeing yourself from the thoughts.

Good. Now feel your fingertips. How does the skin feel? What does it feel at this moment and how does it affect you? Don't form sentences, just let feelings grow in your chest. Let this work for a moment now....

Now let this concentration run over your arms, over your neck to your ears. What do you hear? How does my voice feel to you? Are there any features or background sounds that attract you?

These sensations also flow into the chest.

Wonderful. Now you are one with your environment. Now you can let your thoughts come back into your mind. Slowly. The moment you are yourselves again, a better you, you can open your eyes."

You followed the steps and kept your eyes closed. As time passed, your body seemed to relax more and more. Toward the end of the meditation, you had the sensation of feeling, of hearing the heartbeats of others.

Each beat seemed to echo with each other, yet in the same beat. The leader's fingers slid over the top of your head. The other's arms lay heavily across your shoulders; their fingers cool on your throat. A whisper brushed your ears, but you could not make out the words. It was as if they had been submerged by a wave. The water slapped against your skin and hissed as it hit you. Your body seemed to get warmer and warmer, and the water put an extra weight on the back of your neck. All at once you felt a strong pressure on your throat. It cut off your breath and you could no longer breathe. The hands that had been lovingly stroking your skin a moment ago wrapped around your neck and constricted, breaking your windpipe.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as you opened your eyes. But no one was in front of you, behind you. The others still remained in their positions and seemed to be gathering their thoughts. No one had any problem, nor did they seem to notice yours. You felt nauseous. But you did not want to disturb the others in their meditation. So you just took a shaky breath and closed your eyes again. Maybe there was a chance you could get the calmness back. But when you concentrated on breathing, you couldn't. Almost as if oxygen could not enter your lungs.

A hand rested on your shoulder and you opened your eyes, startled. The leader had sat down in front of you and looked you piercingly in the eyes. Then he began to breathe in slowly. His firm eye contact caused you to do the same. As if your body was synchronizing with his. For a moment, you both held your breath. Time between inhaling and exhaling seemed to stand still. As your lungs burned, you exhaled slowly again. After a few breaths, your heart regulated back to its normal beat, but you continued to concentrate hard on breathing; afraid you would suffocate. For a moment, you realized how the other people in the room were also joining in this breathing exercise. Everyone's lungs seemed to be one. And each time you looked around, someone was smiling gently at you, their faces full of understanding and helpfulness.

For you, it was the first time anyone had managed to put you at ease in this way. For that, you were so grateful to these people; you would give up your life for these people, for him especially. They had helped you without big words, but simply by their calming presence.

Usually, sentences were just poured into your ears, which then threaded themselves into your swirling thoughts with a tight knot. But it didn't happen without words, and for the first time you didn't feel guilty about needing help at all.

These people had not reacted as if you were a burden. You did not feel ashamed that this had happened at all. You were finally being helped properly and with acceptance. Your chest filled with warm feelings that flooded your thoughts.

With a jerk, you jumped into the leader's arms. Maybe there would be consequences later, but you wanted to express your gratitude. Then you felt more and more people join the embrace. Thus in the midst of these people, you felt more at ease than you had ever felt before in your life. Especially with his arms slung around your midsection in the middle of it.

Only after a while did the embrace dissolve again. Much too soon for your taste. But it was time for the next activity; the highlight of the trip. Unlike the others, you didn't know what it was all about, but you followed them every step of the way anyway. You trusted everyone in this group more than you trusted yourself. Your hand was held by one of the girls, who smiled at you and promised a great time was coming. You trusted her.

Therefore, without argument, you changed into the robe that was pressed into your hand. The purple fabric flowed down to below your knees. It was pretty. The cut was probably meant to be special, because everyone had the same fabric, but the garments never looked identical.

Prepared, you made your way to the pond, where you sat back down in your seat. Everyone's eyes were on the leader, waiting.

He looked each person in the eye before he began to speak. He opened the Festival of Blood. You became curious as to why it was called that, but you didn't ask any questions. They explained that when the festival began, so did the game. Then they explained the goals and the rules, his tone as if he had repeated those words thousands and thousands of times. Yet he seemed to be looking forward to it.

"The game is simple. Everyone will draw a role to perform. In doing so, there are the 'monsters' that you seek out and kill. To do this, you use a simple, blunt piece of wood. When you press this against a person's chest, they are dead. The hunted should avoid death by pretending to be normal people while getting rid of the normal people. After some time, a meeting is called in which they should discuss various suspects and get rid of them. When night falls, the monsters have a chance to hunt people down and murder them while they sleep. Of course, they can also hunt during the day, but... The monsters will suck the blood of their victims, which is why they don't need a weapon. The goal of both groups is simple: wipe out the other group.

We will now distribute your roles. And keep them to yourselves. If you are killed, you must not reveal by whom, or how, or what you were."

You weren't so lucky with your drawn role. A monster? Right at your first feast?

You didn't really call that a joy. Nevertheless, you had to try. After all, the game depended on everyone doing their best.

Until there was the first sacrifice, other games were available. After all, one should not just sit around and wait, but enjoy the feast. Carefully, you slipped the piece of wood into your pocket before also popping a candy into your mouth. They were the same ones that were on the leader's table, you recalled. As the taste coated your tongue, you stretched a bit. It made you feel much more awake right away.

Then you made your way to the high jump. Wondering how high you could get. You shook your joints slightly when your turn finally came. It seemed that your anticipation was strong as your head felt lighter than usual. You took a running start before leaping into the air. Your face was turned toward the sky and you felt like you were flying.... You reached out a hand, but before it could touch the soft cotton, your back crashed to the mat. No matter how loudly you hit, though, you were still on the high of the jump and just stared at the sky for a while. But then you straightened up again with a serene giggle, rubbing your neck. Finally, you left the mat and made room for the next jumper.

You heard faint music coming from the direction of the meadow and wanted to make your way there.

On the way, you met the same girl from earlier, who hooked up her arm with yours so you could walk together. But when they were far enough away from the other people, you recognized your chance and stopped. Quietly you apologized to her and put your arms around her. Then you pretended to drink her blood and explained that she had been killed. She dramatically slumped against your body before straightening up after a few seconds. With a giggle, you both continued on your way to the meadow.

Once there, the music was much louder than expected. Still, you enjoyed it and watched as people danced intricate steps. This is what you called a folk dance at a village festival. This didn't really match the situation, but at that moment you didn't care about anything. You let yourself be drawn into the dance, even though you had no idea of the steps. But your head was much too subdued and your body much too light. No real words came out of your mouth, except a boisterous giggle. You let yourself whirl among the people as if you had the ability to fly.

After some time, however, your movements became heavier and sloppier, which is why you bumped into someone more and more often. But that didn't seem to bother anyone. You enjoyed dancing so much. So much so that you no longer noticed who was standing in front of you, or whose hand you were holding.

Your diaphragm stung with every breath, but your joints vibrated so pleasantly that you didn't care. Your vision was blurry and your surroundings moved as if in slow motion. It was a dream.

Suddenly, a shrill scream was heard. The music tore off agonizingly. The trance you were in seemed to be broken, although your thoughts were still heavily clouded. Everyone looked around for the cause of the scream. It was the girl from earlier.

This one seemed to be shaken by something, because there were tears in her eyes, which flooded her trembling face. Only after a few seconds did you realize that the girl was pointing at you.

What was going on? You didn't understand what it was about. But it dawned on you when she explained that you had wanted to murder the girl, but had managed to escape before it could happen.

Was she even allowed to tell the others that? You frowned. Wasn't that the goal of the game? You didn't understand what you had done wrong. The faces of the pack seemed to lie in shadow as their gazes pierced your body. Slowly, everyone gathered around you without saying a word, without hearing a word. Their protests fell on deaf ears. The two people who had held your hand so gently at the dance tightened their grip. Held you captive between them. And no matter how many times you objected, no one would listen. Only you heard their words. Were you even speaking at all, or just thinking?

Without paying attention to you, the two people had dragged you to a clearing. You did not remember this place. Had you ever been here before? Your gaze recognized the leader who was convening a trial. You wet your lips and prepared your defense. After all, you should be allowed to do so. And you were right, the very first thing you were asked to do was to come forward. Even though her arms were still crushed by the people around you.

You explained that yes, you were a monster, but you had done your job and according to the rules the girl should not have been allowed to testify. Then you asked the group if you had done something wrong, since it was the first time you had ever played this game. But this question also fell on deaf ears. People seemed to be more inclined towards the cheater. Your lungs felt heavier with each passing second and you couldn't get a single word out. The hateful looks of the mob were too much for you. This was all just a game after all. Yes, just an activity, and everyone was playing along. Just a simulation. Still, the whole situation seemed far too real. Even the disappointed looks of the leader, the worst case scenario. Exactly what you had wanted so much to avoid since the beginning. His disappointment had a worse effect on you than you had thought. Would you have any reason to live at all if you lost the favor of this important person?

You had to swallow hard, suppress the tears. You didn't even want to think about that possibility for long. The possibility of losing all this was far too brutal, far too ghastly. No, they wouldn't do that to you, would they?

Your eyes wandered over every single person in your field of vision. Their faces all said the same thing. They would leave you, abandon you, throw you away. You were of no use for them anymore. Maybe... Maybe that was just for this activity. Yes, you were certainly allowed to participate in the other things after that. Everything was fine. You nodded slightly as you struggled to take deep breaths.

Then you were declared guilty. What did that mean? Were you just going to be removed from the game now? Yes, it had to be. As long as you were allowed to stay in this place, you didn't care if you were guilty or not. As long as you were allowed to stay, nothing mattered. Now all that was left was to symbolically press the stake to your chest. Then you would be allowed to be with them again. Then you would be welcome again.

But no one pulled out their piece of wood. Why not? That was part of the game! Your gaze no longer rested on one person, but looked at everyone, waiting. They should finally finish this! Why didn't anyone do anything?

The two pulled you back to your feet. You hadn't even realized you had fallen to your knees at all. All you wanted was to be with them again. You deserved that!

You needed it. But the others seemed to disagree, because you were simply removed from the clearing, led deeper into the forest. The two people who had grabbed you tightly by the wrists wore the same long robes. This time it seemed to be the clothing of a ceremony. The cut of the fabric looked familiar, far too familiar, and your body reacted to it even though you couldn't remember. You felt worse and worse from the proximity; nausea settled firmly in your throat. And the longer you had to walk through this dark forest, the more your muscles became lame. Something about the whole environment was far too familiar. You wanted to understand why you were reacting, but no matter how much you thought about it, the less you could think of. You felt like you had never experienced anything in your life.

When your legs finally gave way under you, they entered a completely different clearing. With a bleary eye, you looked around and recognized the group in front of you, all wearing the exact same robes. Their faces were hard to make out, but you didn't quite understand why; was it the shadows or the hoods? The sight sent a shiver down your spine, your stomach cramped and you had to pull yourself together not to throw up right away. Every fiber in your body wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible. But your heart was pounding far too heavily in her chest, so your limbs would no longer obey you. With each step deeper into the clearing, you felt more miserable. A whimper escaped you as you were lifted up and placed on a wooden seat. Still this felt comfortable, gentle.

But then your joints were bound with a rope on which was branded a sign. You dimly remembered this sign, and these memories formed stones in your lungs. You could no longer breathe. Was this all still part of the game? It couldn't be. Where did this mark come from? You had not described its appearance to anyone. You wanted to ask this question. But your voice failed, as if your vocal cords had been knotted together. Therefore, you waited for a brief moment for several hours.

Then the buzzing started. It penetrated deep into your skull and vibrated your vision. So you could only dimly make out one person detaching themselves from the crowd and walking towards you. The only one you wanted to see right now, was the leader, his name a reverence you finally tried to think of: Getou, Getou Suguru. And he did appear in front of you, his hair swaying softly with each step, and you would have tried to get closer, to touch him, to tell him anything he wanted to hear.

But he only stayed silent and held a wooden stake in his hand. His smile still shining softly, almost reassuring. Unlike the blunt pieces from before, the piece in his hand seemed to be sharpened, filed like a knife. The leader stepped behind you and started to work on something you couldn't see because of your limited movement.

Therefore, you focused on his words as he started talking towards everyone else.

"Dear fellow citizens, we are in a crisis. The world has simply become too threatening, too complex. It hurts our hearts. It hurts our brains. Above all, it hurts our pride.

It will not stand. We must fight the threat through simplicity, and we can defeat it. We can defeat it where it matters most. We can defeat it within ourselves. We can regain our simple, pure certainty, push back the threat of the simple, and restore our absolute confidence.

Even though you may feel lost, all is not lost. There is a solution. We must decide together here today to embrace the only true one and march forward together, our eyes and ears closed, our step firm. You fight for what matters most, your simple, unwavering pride. When we stand united, our proud mouths open, fearful ears and eyes closed, armed and lashing out, we can and will make the world feel real again!

Give up your crippling fairness. You can and will be free! Free from doubt! Free from ever having to learn from your mistakes again. You have nothing to sacrifice but fairness. Be shackled by fairness and all is lost. Unleash yourself and you will be free! Proud and free!"

You didn't understand what you were hearing. Was this still part of the game? No, it seemed far too complicated for that. But then what were these people hoping for? You wanted to protest, to fight back. But your thoughts coiled around your neck like a snake, killing every word on your tongue.

He finally came back around, stepping closer to you with the stake still between his elegant fingers after the speech. So close that you could recognize every facial feature of his and her shoulders became much heavier. Of course. How could you have ever thought that a person could be interested in you? There was a reason for his approach, which was clearly in front of you. You raised your eyes, which were full of disappointment and pain, to look him in the eye.

The traitor should know what he had done to you and he should feel the guilt for the rest of his life. But he just grinned at you gleefully and raised the stake in the air. A moment before the stake hit your skin, you felt his other hand stroking your cheek. And as you looked up, his lips met yours. For this short time, you forgot everything, everything but the warmth of his soft lips against yours, but the breath against your face. And you thought that maybe, maybe this was something you were supposed to do, for him.

You felt the point enter your left side; felt the warmth of blood escape from you. Pain throbbed between your ribs and flowed through your bones like lightning. A moan escaped your lips before you felt like you were suffocating. As if all the liquid wanted to come out of you. Your throat burned and you felt liquid metal squeeze between your teeth, the taste like a blanket on your tongue. Moments before his tongue swiped over yours, letting your blood coat his mouth as he pulled away. And you were not dead yet. Though perhaps you deserved to die. You would do anything to satisfy him, so you were supposed to die.

Your heart wasn’t penetrated. You tried to swallow, but the flood was stronger and dripped from your mouth. You could only watch as the red spread over the purple of your dress. Had the pain not spread over your limbs, you would have found the discoloration poetic. But fortunately it would be over in a moment. Then you would have done your service for him.

Then you felt a heat on the soles of your bare feet. A fire was lit beneath you, with the flames initially only licking at your toes. As if they found the taste of skin attractive, they caught at your dress and climbed higher and higher. The fabric clung to you and formed a second skin, melting into your pores. Every nerve in your body began to burn and you had to cough as the smoke tried to choke you. All of this felt a zillion times stronger than you could have ever dreamed. You wanted to breathe, to fill your lungs, but nothing more than a faint gasp and rattle escaped you. The lack of oxygen made you dizzy. Or maybe it was because you had lost too much blood, which was why you head was wrapped in cotton.

You were almost convinced that you could wake up from this nightmare. But the feeling against your skin was too real to be dreaming. Yet your vision was still clear and you could see that the crowd had changed. They had their hands crossed over their faces, and their knees found the soft ground of the forest.

How had you let it get this far in the first place? A voice inside you whispered that you deserved it, that every single decision had led you to this point. You were not a good person and deserved this end. This was your atonement to everyone, to him.

And all at once you understood his words. Why you were special. But maybe your dreams had simply been given a meaning, which fit the expectations of these people. Maybe you should never have come here. But you couldn't retrace your steps, couldn't undo anything. You could not explain why you had trusted these people so easily. Because it always ended the same way; you trusted a person and you got stabbed. In the past, being impaled had been emotional, but this time it meant your downfall. If only you had listened to your past instead of caring words....

You blinked these thoughts away. There was nothing more noble than to die at his hands, his kiss being your death. This was your destiny, the one he gave to you, the one you would cherish with every last cough of your body.

Your body was slowly going numb, your nerves burned out, and you were getting so, so tired. Your gaze still stroked this man in front of you, you could barely think his name without thinking of your purpose. Yet this was your purpose, Getou, Getou, Getou.

He was stroking her blood off his lips to lick it off. Yes, you were sure. There would be no awakening this time. But you didn't want that anymore. You wanted him to appreciate you, to remember you, forever and ever. So, the last thing you could do was let these simple-minded words of confession go, as there was nothing more grander than this sacrifice. Your vision blurred, and he was the last thing you saw. As it should be. He was your beginning, and your end.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #suguru x you #geto x you #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x you #getou x you #jjk x reader

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knickynoo · 1 year

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Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s01ep12 “Retired”

Previous episodes linked HERE.

In this episode: Jules and Verne's April Fool's jokes nearly destroy not only their family but also the entire town.

Quick update on the pic/gif situation. If you've been keeping up with these, you know my pics and gifs aren't being formatted correctly when viewed through a desktop computer. Instead of being in a row, they get enlarged and stacked vertically. Tumblr support has informed me that this is a bug they're working on. So, while it still bothers me and ruins the "flow" of my posts, I'm at least not losing my mind over it anymore. That is all.

Our visit with Real Doc begins with him hyping us up to see his latest experiment. He explains that it's taken months of research and hard work, but he's finally able to reveal...

He's finally able to reveal....!

Yep, Doc can't remember what it is. He goes totally blank, having completely forgotten what experiment he was going to show us. He's put hours upon hours of painstaking work into something and cannot for the life of him remember what it is. Doc panics as he tries unsuccessfully to figure it out. This is basically what happens.

He briefly ends the broadcast, then returns a moment later to make his second attempt at announcing his latest invention. Unfortunately, he still can't remember anything regarding what he was so excited to show us. "It can't be," he says. "Not my brain power."

This leads Doc into the story of another time he feared he was losing his mind, which all started with a prank on April Fool's Day.

The cartoon begins, and we watch as Jules and Verne put the final touches on all their planned hijinks for the holiday. Some of the things on their list of pranks include: salt in the sugar bowl, chocolate sauce in the shower nozzle, and pouring sparkling water on Doc's brainwave analyzer (which is less of a prank and more of just. breaking something lol).

One by one, the pranks play out, with Doc being completely unaware that he's being tricked. When his "automated jogging shorts" (which have been filled with banana peels) malfunction, he's confused but generally unalarmed. When Clara goes to shower and gets covered in chocolate sauce, he ends up thinking it was a skin-moisturizing feature he purposely built in and somehow forgot about. And when he tries to use the brainwave analyzer, which the boys had poured water on, it tells Doc that he's only got 0.01% of his brainpower left.

Doc tells Marty, who has stopped by for a visit, that he must immediately give up science in order to preserve the tiny bit of his brain that he's got left. He also says that he can't even risk conversing with Marty anymore.

Doc then runs straight through the wall of the garage and toward the house in an absolute panic.

Marty, meanwhile, is very bummed at the timing of this whole crisis. He's got a big upcoming gig with The Pinheads, and Doc had promised to help create some cool special effects for the show. But special effects require brainpower, which Doc refuses to use. Left on his own in the garage, Marty takes it upon himself to "borrow" a weather simulator machine Doc had invented. He thinks it'll make the perfect special effects for his concert and has no idea that Jules and Verne have also messed with this device.

We do a little time-jump then, where we see Doc sitting on the couch in his robe, watching mindless television. He's determined to not do anything that requires thought, and Clara is fed up with the whole thing. She tells him he's got to find something else useful to do if he isn't going to do science anymore. They have this funny exchange.

Unable to convince him to get up and do literally anything, Clara announces that she's getting Marty (who she feels is the only one able to talk some sense into her husband). When she returns with him, they find a note from Doc telling them he feels like a burden and has decided to run away. Yes, Doc has ABANDONED his wife and two small sons.

Also, yes, this is a silly cartoon for kids, but I also feel like there's a lot to examine here. Doc thinking he's used up almost all of his brain and deciding his family would be better off without him sort of says a lot about how his sense of self-worth is dependent on his perceived level of intelligence. The guy really thinks he has nothing to offer his family anymore and has decided to jump ship because he evidently can't see any remaining valuable qualities in himself.

Who did this to him? Doc, who damaged you like this? Was it Erhardt? Can we assume Erhardt is somehow responsible?

Meanwhile, Doc is wandering the streets, desperately trying not to think. And honestly? He should've brought Marty along, because Marty is well-versed in the skill of Not Thinking. He could've been a big help.

After a brief scene of Marty and Clara failing to get the police to take them seriously regarding Doc's disappearance—they think it's an April Fool's prank—we return to Doc, who has taken a job playing piano at a Hawaiian Luau-themed lounge. The patrons are less than thrilled with his rendition of "If I Only Had a Brain" from The Wizard of Oz.

Also, I'm no expert, but I'd say playing an instrument uses a significant portion of your brain, Doc. If you're trying to preserve that 0.01% that you've got left, you're not doing a very good job.

As a side note, I like that Doc can play piano. Unfortunately, he swiftly gets fired from the job for putting everyone to sleep.

We go back to Clara, who has resorted to wearing a sandwich board in order to bring awareness to her plight.

After his failed job at the lounge, we follow Doc on a montage of several more failures as he tries being a gardener, a parking attendant, and a pizza maker.

Things are not going well for him.

Apparently, the whole situation thus far has all taken place in the span of a few hours (I thought it had been days, lol) because Marty and Clara go to pick up the boys from school and inform them that their father is missing.

We go again to Doc then, who has decided to use the DeLorean to travel back to a time "when things were simple." As he flies off into the sky, we see a brief shot of a movie theater where Back to the Future is playing.

He ends up traveling to the Cro-Magnon period, where he attempts to teach the people there how to make fire. And I say again: Doc is doing a very poor job of not using his brain. He should've stayed on the couch watching mind-numbing TV if he was really serious about all of this.

After concluding that the temptation to invent things is still too strong, he seeks out a place where "no thinking is required."

Back in present day Hill Valley, Marty is preparing for his concert with The Pinheads. Wow, there's a lot of scene-jumping in this episode! We're all over the place here, bouncing between Doc and everyone else.

Marty is convinced that the best way to find Doc is to do his show because, "Doc told me he was coming, and he hasn't broken a promise to me yet." Awwwww. Very sweet. And he ends up being right about Doc showing up because we soon see him sleeping under some newspapers.

Turns out a rock concert is the perfect place to go when you don't want to experience a single thought.

Clara and the boys catch up to him and try to explain that the brain wave analyzer had been sabotaged, but Doc isn't buying it. The show begins, and Marty uses the weather simulator he had taken for his special effects earlier in the episode. Since Jules and Verne had also tampered with that device, it starts going haywire and creates a massive, dangerous storm. Marty is struck by lightning (he's fine), Doc is struck by lightning (he's also fine), and the sky turns into a swirling vortex of doom. There's a simultaneous thunderstorm, massive flooding, and snow. Clara and the boys beg Doc to use his brain to come up with a plan to save the town before it's too late. Btw, this is the current situation...

And I'm sorry but. I don't think Hill Valley can be saved at this point. Everything is completely underwater. The clock tower is almost entirely submerged. This is hundreds of millions of dollars in damage, and people are probably dead. It's incomprehensible destruction all caused by Jules and Verne's April Fool's Day prank. They should be brought up on criminal charges.

After being convinced to finally use his brain, Doc is able to turn off the machine and undo all the chaotic weather. The end result is only a slightly soggy Hill Valley. I guess no major damage was done by the 50-foot-deep floodwaters. Somehow.

We go to the Browns' kitchen table, where Doc falls victim to one final prank the boys had set up: salt in the sugar bowl. After choking on his salt-filled cup of coffee, we end on a freeze frame of Doc scowling at his children.

I also must address the fact that Doc's eye color was off again in this episode. If you've been keeping up with these posts, you've seen me mention this inconsistency before. There have been many instances of a character's eyes changing for a few seconds mid-scene (a Tannen relative's eyes going from black to blue, then back to black briefly, as well as Doc's changing to blue for a few moments) but this was like. The whole episode. They went from being black in all previous episodes to being green.

Left is how they should look (taken from a previous episode). Right is what they were like for this whole episode.

I'd really love to know why this show struggles so much with eye color consistency. What a weird little problem to have.

Real Doc closes out the episode with an experiment involving condensation and "creating clouds" but it isn't all that interesting, so I don't have much to say about it. The end!

This episode was kind of fun, even though Doc was super out of character. That guy would not ditch his family like that. It also made no sense how he was spent the whole time going, "I must not think!" while taking on jobs that all required significant amount of thought. The rapid-fire scene-jumping gave me whiplash, too. Fifteen seconds with Doc, then a thirty second Marty and Clara scene, then back to Doc for like a minute before we go back to Marty and Clara...I'm tired.

Why are Doc's eyes green now?

Join me next week for our final episode of season 1, in which Clara's mother falls in love with Marty.

#back to the future #bttf: the animated series

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peacerisendove · 11 months

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Big Ethel Energy Season 2 Episode 22

To summarize this episode: Ethel continues to be the most frustrating protagonist in the world and it's not even in a good or entertaining way. And I love a messy protag, but not like this.

People can be messy, people are messy and selfish and terrible at times, but when it comes to Big Ethel Energy the format of the webcomic as one long vertical strip, the art, and the writing do nothing to purposefully present such qualities.

Ethel's selfish from the reader's perspective, but it's clear to see that's not the comic's intent as it tries so hard to constantly keep you sympathetic to her.

Oh my god she is so selfish and acting like a complete asshole.

YOU INVITED HIM. HE'S STAYING AT YOUR PLACE. HE'S YOUR GUEST THEREFORE YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. THAT'S WHAT A GOOD HOST DOES, ETHEL.

You can't just drop your FRIEND on other people! AND THEN LIE AND SAY HE'S BUSY WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN TRIED TO TALK TO HIM.

I'm mad but at least this isn't a writing issue this time. She's actively avoiding Tim which is at least directly stated.

Still Ethel just continues to get worse and worse as a protagonist. And I'm not saying this because I disagree with how she is acting, but because of the conflicting signals the narrative/author versus the display of Ethel's character that is given, i.e. her "woe is me" and "I'm so much better than the town and people I left in Riverdale, and everyone was SO MEAN to ME :c" energy. I know I've talked about this previously, but the disconnect and tone deaf nature of how Ethel is presented from the perspective of the narrative in contrast to how we the readers view her is SO JARRING and incredibly ANNOYING. It really irks me.

I've been reading this webcomic for far too long now and I am just JADED by this point.

Also another thing I haven't mentioned before is that this comic lacks the spirit of Archie Comics as a whole. Characters and even the setting of Riverdale are consistently used to prop up Ethel who has purposefully removed and separated herself from the community. because she is portrayed as starting in New York and then going back to Riverdale, I get an underlying sense that she is inherently viewed or portrayed as better than the characters who stayed in Riverdale. She resembles an outsider in ways despite the portrayal of people in the community liking and remembering her. It's like these are small town problems in contrast to Ethel who is this city girl. There's a divide here and it honestly reminds me of Hallmark Christmas movies, but at least those can be entertaining.

Additionally, while I am on the topic of the spirit of Archie Comics, they are doing Mr. Weatherbee dirty! He's a principal, he's strict, but ultimately his character was that he cares about his students of his school and wants to impart knowledge or just do what he thinks is best for them.

This right here?

This is not the Mr. Weatherbee I know.

It also continues the terrible trend of horribly misunderstanding characters and their personalities in order to drive "Ethel's" story.

Lastly, my final notes on this episode is that Ethel really is overcompensating on the affection here after Tim rightfully called her out.

#big ethel energy #dove reads bee #dove reads big ethel energy

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squadron-goals · 9 months

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Feldfliegerabteilung 23

17 Mai 1915

How I was looking forward to my old department! Returning was the hardest journey of my life. Because our commander Vogel von Falckenstein, to followed with loyal devotion, never came back from a front flight on the day I was supposed to arrive in January... I always felt as if I had to look for him. My own thinking was obliterated. I flew and flew and worked until I sank down tired, picked myself up again, and the only thing on my mind was: "Didn´t return back from a flight!" ... The fronts did not change over the last few months and are still relatively calm now. The flight reports are almost always the same: "Nothing new before Paris!" We take a lot of photographs. I often flew into enemy rear areas; the area around Amiens was my target. I then tried to get as far behind the enemy lines as possible, because that was the only way to get a clear view of the enemy. Far behind his lines, the enemy cannot hide anything. Only a few of our planes managed to get through to Amiens. I put my pride into it: every flight I have to make a few curves over Amiens. Besides, I never fly without bombs. Their destination is always Amiens. So "Honorary Citizen of Amiens" was soon my nickname ... A French monoplane often cruises over Amiens. I know the guy well, my commander was his victim. Woe betide you if he comes before me! I challenge him almost every day. He always appears suddenly and soon he's sitting behind me or close above my plane so that I can't see him. Since we don't have machine guns on the plane yet, we have to use carbines and pistols; I prefer to rely on my curves until I have him in sure sight. Once I managed to get above him. The observer his hands in the air and the Frenchman goes vertically downwards. But we didn't hit the plane.

4 June 1915

Our reconnaissance aircraft have finally been equipped with machine guns. The French already had this during peacetime. Unfortunately, the MGs only came into the planes sporadically. Now, almost a year after the start of the war, many aircraft still only have pistols. We need attack machines with the machine gun forward, like the Frenchman ... I managed to get Buddecke into my unit. We now have brilliant guys in our unit: Böhmer, Hirsemann, Tütschulte, Schueler, Grüner; all officers of the good old style, iron-clad in their commitment to duty and in their service. Each crew tries to surpass the other in the length of the flight route and in the number of flights. Real flying spirit! All for one, one for all! We also have a splendid chief captain (the name came from me, but was soon adopted generally). Seeberg and Bohnstedt form the head of the unit. Both are constantly striving to get all difficulties out of our way, to always keep the tone and spirit fresh and to raise the same spirit in the non-flying part of the camp (mechanics and crews). It's not easy for them, but they manage it! Von Seidlitz or, as I call him, Seidenspitz, is probably the most magnificent. Although seriously wounded and not yet healed, he escaped straight from the hospital and is desperately trying to take part in the flying competition; He has to be lifted onto the plane... If only fate doesn't tear us apart! In just one month, FFA 23 has become one of the best flying formations in the entire army!

10 August 1915

I was supposed to get a Fokker monoplane in July. I gave up in favor of Buddecke, who had asked me to do so. He knew the type from America. It took a hard fight, then I got the large aircraft, called the "Großer Kahn", which has 2 engines with a total of 300 HP, space for 2 to 3 observers, 2 machine guns and a bomb load of 200 kg. It was the first of its kind to join the army. I fought for it, since I'm the oldest pilot in the army and the best known of us and especially over there... We still don't have a small fighter plane that's easy to steer. It's a shame that you can't attack with the large combat aircraft, it's too cumbersome for that... I take turns flying, sometimes a large aircraft, sometimes a C-biplane, i.e. a normal aircraft. So I can let off steam in every way... When it comes to nerves, I'm still the same as before, i.e. fresh. My breakdown in June was apparently serious, but was soon resolved. Only the stomach nerves aren't quite cooperating. At first the doctor said it was a dysentery attack, but after 14 days it went back to normal.

#Rudolf Berthold

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iridescentlemoncandy · 2 years

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With Osborn, Chapter 1: Sunset Roulette

Part 2: Dashing through the Horizon

“A bet is a bet; after this, you're free to race all over this road!"

They've all lined up in a row on the highway. The car with the bat logo sprayed on it belongs to Xiao Bai, the second-to-last vehicle after Osborn's. The car engines are revving, signalling that they are ready to go. My heart, meanwhile, is pounding like one of those engines. As far as I can see, the road goes all the way from the coast to the peak of the mountain. Just thinking about how quickly the ascent would make my heart race.

Huff… Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes. My body stiffens, and I open my eyes to find Osborn staring back at me. First, he double-checks my seatbelt and then puts on his own. The sound of the engines roaring from the sportscars in front of us becomes more deafening at that moment. It's as if he can read my mind: he tilts his head to gaze at me, and then tousles my hair casually.

Osborn: Relax.

I nod, squeeze the holder behind me hard, and look at the woman on the side of the road raising the starting flag. She uses her fingers to make a countdown gesture: 10, 9, 8. Before the end of the countdown, the engines of these sports cars roar to life. Osborn appears unfazed; his arms are relaxed on the wheel, and he has a sinister squint in his eyes.

MC: Why—They shouldn't have started yet?!

Osborn: Because they are amateurs, that’s why.

I can't help but feel enraged as I watch those sports cars speed up forward and out of sight.

MC: This is too much. It’s cheating!!

Osborn gives me a sidelong glance, his demeanour unaffected by the fact that the other racers are cheating.

Osborn: Now you're invested in the outcome of this race?

MC: ……I mind about the fairness!

The woman drops the flag she was holding right as I finished speaking—

Vroom—! The car accelerates, and the abrupt surge causes me to lean against the back of the seat.

Sand whipped up by the wind whistles as it crashes against the glass. Osborn picks up the pace as he approaches the corner and the cars that had left earlier come into view. The one with the spray-painted bat logo is way out in front.

As we get closer, the automobiles start lining up in a maze-like formation, blocking our path.

MC: Osborn—

My throat has tightened with nervousness, and I can barely hear my voice at the moment.

Osborn: They have quite the trick up their sleeves.

Our car clings to the rear of the pack, swiftly passes it, and then speeds into the "maze" as soon as he finishes speaking. Osborn keeps an eye on the space between the vehicles, and when one opens, he bursts through it at top speed. However, the initially empty gap is quickly filled by a car approaching from the right. Suffocating, I instinctively clutch the handle.

MC: !!!

The tyre makes a loud friction screech, and Osborn wafts our automobile back into its previous place due to the high inertia impact.

Soon, the automobiles we passed catch up to us and surround us with their blinding headlights. There's a car following closely behind us, and Osborn's keeping a close eye on its every move. The ascent to the mountain road seemed to take no time at all. There is nothing but an empty cliff on our left and a vertical wall of a steep slope on our right.

I gulp subconsciously and sneak a peek at Osborn's face. Slightly raising an eyebrow, it seems he has suspicions about the car on our back.

Osborn: Tsk, another tiresome gimmick.

He presses the accelerator as soon as he finishes talking, but there's a bend up ahead! I am completely baffled by his motivations and can only watch him with wide eyes. Sweat is dripping down my forehead.

Now, something much worse had happened: as we sped around the turn, the car behind us tried to squeeze through the opening between us and the mountain wall.

MC: He—He’s gonna hit us?!

I feel like my heart is about to stop for a second from sheer astonishment. Osborn's speed is fast enough, so we push on and manage to put some distance between ourselves and the car trailing behind. Simultaneously, we hear a massive crash behind us. It's so loud that it seems to shake the entire mountain.

Instantly, I look around and notice that the front of the car behind us has slammed into the side of the mountain and come to a complete halt. After making sure that no one is seriously hurt, I turn my head to the front with a lingering sense of foreboding.

MC: Was that car trying to make a narrow pass just now? But how could that ever be possible?

Osborn: He knows he's not going to make it. What he really wants is for me to yield to him so he can occupy my path. But I've seen far too many of these petty ploys. I accelerate right away. He lost control and crashed. Those twisted mind tricks come with a steep price to pay.

From there, we pick up the pace, passing other vehicles and eventually making a beeline for Xiao Bai. I take a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down as the overwhelming sense of panic returns. But before I could breathe a sigh of relief, the race car slammed into a sharp turn after travelling down a straight road. Osborn sharply turned the wheel around the bend, the powerful centrifugal force nearly lifted our car off the ground. I feel the energy seize hold of me as it desperately tries to fling me from the vehicle.

MC: !!!!!

This was when my unease and terror were at their worst; the piercing wail made me feel as though it may engulf me. I—

[Maintain A Calm Façade]

[Can't Resist Screaming Out Loud]

[Close My Eyes]

#light and night #osborn #xiao yi #光与��之恋 #萧逸

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artofmains · 2 years

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Letter templates for google docs

#Letter templates for google docs pdf#

#Letter templates for google docs free#

#Letter templates for google docs windows#

Click the image to show the sizing handles.I prefer to capture and edit my images using a tool like SnagIt. I stuck to using a PNG file that was 600px by 140px. I’m guessing some of these image file formats work in other Google properties like Google Photos. You will get a large red error box that reads, Unsupported image type. However, many of the less known image file formats like SVG did not work.

#Letter templates for google docs windows#

On my Windows PC, the File Open dialog shows a wide array of image formats.

Navigate to your image file and upload.

Alternatively, you can upload from other sources such as Google Drive, Photos, URL, and camera.

Click Upload from computer from the side menu.

Google Docs has several different ways to add images and even more formats. The line is just a visual marker and will not show on your letterhead. You should now see a thin horizontal line and a checkbox about the different first-page headers. If you don’t see the Headers menu item, you may have zoomed your page display.

From the Insert menu, select Headers & footers and then Header.

Click the large + icon for a Blank template.

Create Google Docs Page Headerįor this example, I’ll add my logo to the header area. Using these spaces means you can control whether your information shows on all of your letter pages, or just the first page. This is a very popular design that uses the Header and Footer areas. Instead, I used tables so I could adjust column widths. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get anything but equal-sized columns, which resulted in poor use of space. When I was creating the vertical example, I had a hard time using columns. You can access the Page setup… setting from the File menu. If you need to adjust your margins, I found it easier to do it first. If you want a full-width line, you’ll need to set your left and right margins to 0. Inserting a horizontal line is easy, but your margins define the length. Some people prefer to use a vertical approach with the company info running down the left column. For example, one design I’m using leverages the header and footer. There were several quirks that I experienced in trying to do some simple templates.

#Letter templates for google docs pdf#

While you can use PDF files with Google Docs, I would worry that the OCR translation may not work. If you decide to open a document for template purposes, it should be one of the following formats.

#Letter templates for google docs free#

Pin Free Google Docs account with public gallery examplesĪlternatively, you could open an existing Microsoft Word template and work from there. The top section shows Recently used items, but if you scroll down past Resumes, you’ll see a dedicated section called Letters. When you open Google Docs, there is a File > New > From template menu option that will take you to the template gallery. If so, you could use that template as your starting point. Leverage Existing Templatesīefore you begin, you might want to see if there is a template in the General Template Gallery that is close to what you want. This can work equally well if you’re a small business just starting out and want to create a corporate identity template. I’ve also known people who create a simple template by using a different Google font in the header of just their name in large point size. Some items you might consider for a business letter might include: The answer to this question varies based on your needs. is the General public template group What Do You Need on Your Letterhead? is the tab for your organization / private templates – Productivity Portfolio Pin Google Workspace with saved templates When you log into the paid version, your Template Gallery looks like the one below. In contrast, the paid Google Workspace plan (previously called G Suite) allows you to submit your documents to your organization’s Template Gallery. The free version just allows submitting to a public gallery. The free version of Google Docs is a great product, but you can’t save your content as a template in your own template gallery. The other example splits the page layout into two columns and shows your letterhead info in the left column. One will leverage the header and footer areas. As long as you have your needed components, this process should work. In addition, some people may prefer to start with something from the Public Template Gallery and modify it to suit their needs. You may want to use an original design or artwork from your graphic designers.

Making a Letterhead Template (Google Workspace)īefore I begin, I should mention that I’m building a business letterhead template from scratch that contains relevant content using my brand colors and logo for demonstration purposes.

Making a Document Copy (template workaround).

#Letter templates for google docs

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thedaveandkimmershow · 2 years

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Once you see crevices in huge section of solid rock, you can't not see them anymore.

In fact, once you see a solid wall of rock with a pretty significant space behind it as if a Titan tried to slice it off the mountain, it's really hard not to see that... anymore.

Our experience in Capitol Reef National Park was filled with that specific revelation.

Some rocks. Some boulders. Some cliff faces...

Seem barely to be hanging on.

The great and different experience we had at this National Park as opposed to Zion and Bryce is that we were pretty much on our own to explore. Or maybe the truth is that there are more formations to explore that are either next to the main road or conveniently not far from the road. So we got a closer look at what now seem to me as assemblages of rock rather than solid mountains or canyons that are of a piece.

It's like everything's pressed up together in these awkward and odd formations, held together, held in place, by gravity.

Most of the time.

An interestingly equivalent experience to being in the park... was leaving the park.

Usually for me, when you leave some special area you enter normal landscape. Or at least normal-ish.

But heading east out of Capitol Reef National Park, you enter this landscape that coulda been a national park. You enter this space that someday might look like Capitol Reef or Bryce or Zion.

There's something more elemental about it.

There's something more raw.

But I also might be thinking about this wrong. Because it might be that Capitol Reef, that Bryce, that Zion...

May one day look like this.

I didn't get any photographs or video because there were no turn outs next to the road.

This is all stuff you're just supposed to drive through.

The only name I caught for it on a sign was Cathedral Valley. But that was pretty early on when the word "cathedral" seemed to refer to large groups of squat though conical formations of what appeared to be sand.

And maybe "groups" isn't the right word. These were repetitions in the landscape both horizontally and vertically.

Eventually the bit of town and grass and trees and conical sand repetitions gave way to these huge formations on the right that I can only describe as what happens when children take a bucket of brown sand on the beach, turn the bucket over right on the beach, then remove the bucket. It was a wall of that, maybe ten stories high, probably higher, that just kept going as we drove.

On the left,.about half as tall, it's like children tried to make a bunch of mountains of gray sand that were worm down a little by water.

And that kept going, too.

Children with brown sand dumping it out onto the beach for a square bucket

Later, all of that gives way to the conical sand formations again.

And then those give way to cones of sand stop cones of sand. Like, five story cones of sand, probably larger.

And then the brown sand again, big as before, probably bigger. But this time as if it had been shaped on top of the grey sand cones.

Shaped?

Yeah.

You can make out angular roofs. You can make out turrets. And, as they become even larger and farther away, they begin to look like castles.

And fortresses.

And then they're farther away, spread out across the landscape at which point they absolutely look like faraway castles and fortresses.

It's a helluva thing to experience.

Eventually, these outcroppings give way to what looks like a white sand desert stop on which groups of one or two story conical mounds prevail.

Here... there be wind.

Lots of wind.

Forceful wind.

In the distance, the cones of sand are taller and white and, etched around their edges are series of black lines. Like multiple tracks. Or Spirograph lines.

A lot of these cones seem to be scooped out a bit on the sides facing me. But still with those black Spirograph lines running up and around their edges.

And that window, that forceful wind, is blowing the white, light colored sand against and amongst those scooped out cones of white sand.

But just there.

Not where we're driving. Not in front of us. Not to the other side of us.

Just there.

It was as cinematic an image as I experienced in real life.

After that, three more quick things.

The first builds on the idea of rock assemblages. Because at some point we're driving a long road across prairie and sometimes dune landscape and off to our left in the distance is a mountain range that looks like massive beach rocks stacked vertically at an angle.

As far. As my eyes. Could see.

The second builds on the castle formations but with hard edges rounded by the wind, I'm guessing. Making them look very Egyptian.

And the third goes back to the castles and fortresses because we eventually came.across one huge and wide along the freeway. In front of it, though, was a much shrunken version of that same thing, but melted in a way.

My first thought,.of course,.was that the one in front will someday be the one in back.

Except.

That's not usually how geology works.

The more likely thing is that the one in back will someday be the one in front that will someday be sand on prairie.

So yeah.

Once you see crevices in huge sections of solid rock, you can't not see them anymore.

Once you see a solid wall of rock with a pretty significant space behind it as if a Titan tried to slice it off the mountain, it's really hard not to see that... anymore.

Once you see mountains as assemblages as if they were some rudimentary form of Transformer... you see it everywhere.

And once you see the effects of time and erosion, well...

That's just kind of sad.

🙁

#camping #adventure #exploring #escape campervan #capitol reef national park #erosion #crevaces #the ravages of time

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lighteraryloredump · 2 years

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at least im feeling inspired, i guess :')

image desc below vvvvv

Top left panel: A cartoony drawing of myself next to a drawing tablet glove and pen that are floating whimsically in the air, as shown by some equally cartoony sparkles. My fists are clenched in excitement and my eyes are closed in satisfaction. To my left is my inner monologue, which says "Okay, now that it's summer I'll finally have time to buckle down and finish my story portfolio!" Top right panel: Another cartoony drawing of myself putting my drawing tablet glove on my right hand with a grandiose air. I also grip my drawing tablet pen with my right hand as it glows gold with importance. My inner monologue continues, "Quite literally nothing can stop me now!" Over in the bottom right corner, a mysterious purple speech bubble seems to taunt, reading "ehehehe" (y'know like a creepy laugh) Bottom left panel: My hand, gloved and holding my tablet pen moves as if to begin drawing, when it is stopped mid-air by a mysterious and ghostly purple hand. Bottom right panel: A ghostly and purple creature, representing procrastination, looms behind a drawing of myself. It taunts me with other ideas saying, "BUT WHAT IF YOU DID (blank) INSTEAD?". The blank alternates between multiple different texts, including "Mermay", "a webcomic", "Shorts/Reels", "animation memes", "oil painting", and "literally anything else". In the foreground, I am ecstatic and shaking with excitement, saying "YOU'RE SO RIGHT! Thanks procrastination."

#this is like the first finished personal project ive actually finished in forever #im not mad at it tho #i need to get back into making more illustrations instead of solely doing concept work and sketches #so this is good practice #and also just amusing lol i think im funny hehe #procrastination #brainrot #artstudent #animation #comic #looping animation #ok im going to sleep now #having a fun time tho #u might see some mermay content from me soon #speaking only to my like 4 followers hi yes u ily thanks for supporting #if ur reading this u should reblog #i heard u wouldnt #bet #ALSO #TRIED SO HARD TO GET THIS IN A VERTICAL FORMAT #FIRST PLAN WAS TO UPLOAD THEM AS GIFS #QUALITY WASNT HIGH ENOUGH FOR ME WHEN I WENT TO EXPORT BC I WAS TOO PAINTERLY #SO THE DITHERING SAID NO LOL #IT LOOKED GROSS #SO NEXT MY PLAN IS TO DO FOUR INDIVIDUAL VIDEOS ONE AFTER EACH OTHER ON ONE POST #NOPE TUMBLR DOESNT LET YOU PUT MULTIPLE VIDEOS IN THE SAME POST #SO NEW PLAN IS MAKE ONE VERTICAL VIDEO #BUT SURPRISE THE ASPECT RATIO DID NOT WORK WELL WITH THE FORMATTING OF TUMBLR LOL #other plan was to just do four separate posts #just reblogging onto the last one to combine them into one finished post

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cheesyficwriter · 3 years

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Hi, I’m your biggest fan! Please could you write my the angsty fic ever for Romione, using the prompt: “I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.”

Thank you so much, please and thanks.

Hiiii my dearest @accio-broom 💜 You're the BEST. I grant your request with some angsty Romione fluff. I wrote this drabble, imagining it in the same universe as a completed fic of mine, Lost in Translation, so consider this an epilogue to the epilogue 😊 Hope you enjoy!

Yell and Kiss

Ron’s feet plant themselves onto the earth, just seconds after apparating to the coastal line of Kent. His mouth falls open in awe of the massive white cliffs that rise out of the water, bombarded by the waves of the English Channel. There are weathered limestone rocks that protrude vertically along the formation of the cliff.

At the height of its elevation, Ron can just barely make out three figures circling each other at the very top of the high mountain surrounded only by water.

A disconcerting scream echoes through the crisp air, and Ron’s heart thumps nearly as loud as his steps as he sprints towards the commotion. In one fluid movement, he swings his legs over the broom he clutches in his right hand, propelling his feet off the ground, establishing the momentum he needs to fly up to the green hilltop.

His broom clatters to the ground, and he’s charging towards the source of the distress, ducking as a beam of light streaks past him.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouts towards the enemy, a wave of relief flooding his body as he spots the one person he was most anxious to see.

She’s okay.

Hermione doesn’t acknowledge Ron’s presence, instead focusing her efforts on casually sweeping her wand left to right, and then in circles, calling out spell after spell towards the two Death Eaters remaining in battle. She jumps back with eased fluidity as a curse ricochets off the hilltop and disintegrates in mid-air.

This isn’t her first high-stakes combat situation, and Ron can tell that the extra training with the Auror department has paid off as Hermione develops her stance honed for battle, preparing for the next attack.

From the past few years of watching her in the field, Ron knows that she is fully capable of handling violent situations, but also struggles to see reason before galavanting off on a mission without giving proper notice to her team. He swallows the emotional hurdle that racks his nerves, well aware that Hermione does not take kindly to his overprotective nature. Although she is often determined to handle violent combat by herself, it’s a difficult task even for the most seasoned of Aurors. There is no way, without assistance, that she will be able to emerge from the fight completely unscathed.

So, bloody fucking hell, he will always show up as her designated overprotective prat and she will have to get over it.

When Ron leaps towards Hermione, her eyes finally flicker his way, and she’s motioning for him to step back. She throws another spell that hits the Death Eater squarely in the chest, sending him flying into the air before landing on a clutter of rocks.

A burst of pride washes over Ron. He tries to stay focused on Hermione, but his peripheral vision catches movement, and he steps out of range of a spell launched in his direction.

Another shot of red light moves through the air at blisteringly fast speed, this time sending a distracted Hermione stumbling back, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. She trips over her two feet, collapsing into the hard ground with a horrific thud.

Ron’s insides are screaming and he springs into action, knowing they are now fighting against time. A snarl claws its way up his throat as he circles the remaining enemy, wand at the ready, prepared to duel it out to the finish.

He spots Hermione scrambling to her feet next to him. Before he can cast any spell, she shouts, “Reducto”, effectively exploding a large boulder situated near the death eater and knocking the cloaked enemy out.

Smoke funnels up into the clouds, signaling the end of the combat. Ron is too astonished to move at first, unable to verbally communicate his thoughts even if he wanted to.

Ron spots the bloody gash on Hermione’s cheek as she limps towards him, forcing anger to swell through his veins.

He senses that their fight isn’t entirely over yet.

“I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you,” he growls as she draws closer, his jaw twitching.

A flash of irritation shines through her eyes. “I had it handled, Ron.”

He scoffs. “Really?”

She takes on her defensive stance and stern tone of voice that is just so very Hermione. She holds her head up high. “Yes, actually. They weren’t going to give up their location without some reassurance first. Luckily, they played right into my trap by insisting that I come with them.”

“Yeah. Luckily.”

“Oh, stop being a giant mope!” Hermione snaps at him. “It’s about time that I earned a solo mission.”

“There are no solo missions, Hermione,” he shouts, the force of his words reverberating off the sharp cliff. “As Aurors, we work as a team. Need I remind you that you are on a trial basis with us, and you still have your other responsibilities in the Law Enforcement office.”

She jabs a finger in his face. “And you can’t separate work and our personal life!”

“Can you blame me? You think I want to see the woman I love get taken prisoner?” Ron’s limbs are flailing about, trying to convey just exactly how frustrated he is by this aggravating witch standing in front of him right now. “To end up bloody knows where, panicking because I don’t know how to find you?”

Hermione’s features soften, and she reaches out a shaky hand only for him to roughly pull away his elbow before she can reach him. “Ron-”

“It’s not just about your career when you go out into the field, Hermione. It’s our life.”

“And how do you think I feel every time you go out on a mission and I haven’t a clue where you are?” she fires back.

Ron’s shoulders slump, realizing that he can’t argue with her there.

His voice is quieter as he reaches out to intertwine their fingers together. “I just want us to have this life together until we’re old and wrinkly, so if you could really try harder not to throw yourself into mortal danger, that would be great.”

A magnificent grin forms on Hermione’s face. “Ron.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

He wastes no time cupping her face with his hands before crashing his lips to hers, pouring every ounce of love he has for her into the kiss. For a moment it’s peaceful between them with the best view of the rolling green hilltops and the sea below.

Ron’s debate of kiss her or yell at her ends with the recognition that he manages to do both. It’s who they are, and they will continue to yell and kiss and yell and kiss for the rest of their lives.

GIF: AnaA pinterest

#romione #romione drabble #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #ron weasley x hermione granger #hermione x ron #angst with a happy ending #magical au #lost in translation #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #cheesyficwriter

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re-diesirae · 3 years

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7. Leon

Leon had watched Claire like a caring friend the whole night. The woman had fallen asleep so fast that Leon knew she was exhausted. He let the woman rest on his lap, and he found his eyes wandering absently to her face.

She looked pale under the dim light, and her auburn-hair locks fell lazily over her face. Leon pushed one behind her ear, and she barely moved under the light touch.

Leon froze, fearing that he had awoken her, but the woman continued to sleep quietly.

"You must be truly tired if you let your defenses down like this," Leon whispered with a smirk.

It was not the first time that they shared sleeping quarters. During the early months after the Racoon City incident, Leon, Claire, and Sherry had stayed together. The trio had remained hidden, fearing that Umbrella would try to catch them. In those days, Claire and Leon alternated their guarding duties, and he remembered that the woman was a very light sleeper. The slightest sound would send her on her feet and ready to shoot. He had found that cute and admirable.

Tonight, however, Claire was sleeping soundly, and not even his touch had woken her. He was not sure if he should feel concerned or happy that she felt safe enough to rest with him.

After some hours, he tried waking her up, as he had promised. Claire woke up when he shook her, but she soon fell asleep again, and he did not have the heart to wake her again.

Claire did not look too happy when she found out he had not woken her, but she forgave him after he explained what had happened. They left the cottage and walked through the forest. The casual chat was helping them both to stay calm, but he had not expected the conversation to turn to the subject of her luck with men.

Claire was a beautiful woman; she was not like other girls. She had grown with Chris, so she was not the sort of a woman to lay low waiting for the prince in shining armor to come to her rescue. No, Claire was the kind of girl to save herself. She knew how to stand her ground, and some men would feel intimidated by that. In his personal opinion, that was just what he had found so attractive in her.

Claire was a strong woman, and that was appealing. If someone was not able to see that, well, that bastard certainly was an idiot. When the conversation turned about him and Ada, he quickly brushed it off.

He and Ada had a complicated relationship. There was an attraction, but he doubted there was anything beyond that. When Claire pinpointed the group of Plagas infected, Leon chose to take cover behind the bushes. They were not hard to handle, but he did not have infinite ammo, and he did not want to waste them without reason.

"I think the wisest move now is to avoid conflict unless it is necessary," Leon said.

"I am with you with that. You'll want to save your bullets for the big ones," Claire nodded, looking at him.

"Big ones?" Leon asked with a frown.

"Yeah, nasty things. They took me by surprise yesterday, and I blew up the town in panic. The explosion was a little bigger than I thought, but well, I was desperate, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

Leon looked at the woman feeling a bit guilty. He had seen the woman's condition the night before. She could barely stand, and Leon hated imagining her facing those monsters. He was somehow amazed that she had managed to come out alive.

You never stop surprising me.

"I didn't meet any last night," Leon said, "but I trust your word, any idea of what it is?"

"Nope. I've never seen anything like it. I dare say it might be a new strain. I guess we get the privilege to test them."

"What an honor," Leon said sarcastically.

Leon looked around them. Considering the situation, they needed a plan to survive. The first thing they needed was knowing their surroundings. Usually, he could count on Hunnigan's assistance in these cases, but she was out of reach, which meant they would have to do it the old way.

Leon noticed a rocky formation in the distance. It was probably high enough for them to look around.

"Alright, so plan. We need to figure out the terrain, so I think we should try to find a good vantage point to look at what we are facing. There's a rocky cliff in that direction, do you see it?"

"Yup, I do."

"I hope you are in the mood for hiking."

"Leon, if you know me the way you say you do, you'll know I'll never be in the mood for hiking."

"But I'll do what I've got to do."

"That's the spirit," he said, "Don't worry. I can carry you if you get tired."

"Excuse you. I might dislike hikes, but I don't need anyone to carry me."

"Of course. It's nice to see that good old Claire is still there."

"The old Claire has always been here," she said, winking at him. "Just improved..."

Leon let out a soft chuckle. He was glad that Claire's humor was still there. He loved that part of her. How she could make things look less grim with a funny comment or two. Her manners had become more mature, and perhaps, a little reserved, but she was still herself; sweet and lovely Claire. He could not ask for a better partner in the current situation.

Leon took the lead mainly because he wanted to ensure Claire's safety. The woman assured him that she was ok, but her appearance said otherwise. She was too pale, and the hesitance of her steps did not go unnoticed to his watchful eye. Claire was coherent. He could scratch out any head damage due to the concussion, but there could be other injuries that he had not noticed. He would need to check in their next stop.

"Strange..."

Leon stopped for a moment, looking around. He listened but heard nothing more than birds and the whistle of the wind through the woods.

"I expected more hostiles, but we've barely encountered some Plagas infected. Don't you find it odd?"

He saw Claire look around them as well.

"Well, it is a very different scenario from last night," Claire agreed, "Perhaps they are more active at night."

"That's not a common trait when it comes to Plagas, but you might be right," Leon reasoned, "Well, then maybe we should restrict our moves to daytime. It might slow us down, but between speed and safety, I vouch for the latter. Especially if there's limited ammo in the equation."

Making stops during the night and limiting their moves to the day would make them lose some time, but he had reasons to prefer to go slower this time. Claire could use the rest breaks.

"Yeah, that might be the best," she sighed.

"Don't worry. We'll make it out of this one."

"Yeah, I know," she nodded, "Leon..."

"Yeah?"

Leon looked at her. Her cerulean eyes locked with his. They were the same blue eyes he'd met that night in Raccoon, but for some odd reason, there was something different in them now.

"Thank you."

That caught Leon by surprise. A thank you was not something he expected to hear from her now.

"What for?" he asked, confused by the sudden thank you.

"Eh, well. I don't know. For being here now, I mean," Claire said shyly, "I suppose it was hard to reach me, and you didn't have to, yet...you are here."

So that was what she meant. Leon did not know why she felt like she had to thank him. They were friends, and he would have never let the terrorist take her like that.

"Don't be silly," he said, "You don't need to thank me for that. If it hadn't been me, it would have been your brother, but neither of us would let them take you away so easily."

Claire smiled.

"Yeah, you might be right."

Leon snorted. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. Claire was silly to be thanking him for something as simple as that. She was cute without even noticing it, and that thought made him remember something that had been bothering since all began. Why were those bioterrorists after her?"

"I wanted to ask you," he said as they began to walk again, "Do you have any idea of what they would want to kidnap you?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," she sighed. "I receive a lot of hate mail, so maybe it is someone who holds a grudge against me. I don't know. It could be someone targeting Chris, too. Both of us have rubbed some people the wrong way for a while."

That was an understatement, especially if they were talking about Chris Redfield. Leon could easily list all of the people who were plotting any possible revenge on Chris, but Claire was different. Even though Claire worked as hard as he and Chris did to fight bioterrorism, she was a lot more discreet. Claire kept her name as low profile as possible, but she was a Redfield, and the family reputation preceded her.

They reached the base of the cliff, and Leon let out a displeased sigh. It was practically a 90° vertical climb up. Even with equipment, the climb-up was dangerous. Now, without equipment, the climb-up was technically suicide.

Leon could probably handle it, but he feared for Claire.

"Well, I guess that will be an intense hike," Claire sighed, looking at him.

Leon smiled at her. He looked around, trying to find an alternate route, but he found none.

"Don't look at me like that, Leon," Claire said. "I can tell what you are thinking. I am fine. I can do it."

Leon disagreed, but he knew Claire, and if she had something in common with her brother, it was her stubbornness.

"Look, I know you can, but it is still dangerous. So I want you in front, in case you fall, I can catch you."

Leon knew that Claire was not happy with the arrangement, but she accepted and did as Leon asked her. Leon helped Claire up the cliff, and he made sure she had a good grip on the rock before following her up. The climb was not easy, even for someone with the physical condition that Leon had. He watched her back carefully as they ascended.

When they finally reached the top, Claire left herself fall on the grass gasping for air. He could see the sweat drops forming over her unusually pale skin, and he kneeled by her side.

"Are you ok?" Leon asked, rubbing her back.

"Barely," she smiled, "I hate hiking..."

"Yeah, sorry that I made you go through that."

Leon smiled apologetically. He stood up and looked around. At least their effort had not been in vain. The cliff gave them a clear view of their surroundings, but they only saw trees, kilometers, and kilometers of trees and greenery.

"Well, at least it isn't an island this time," Claire signed by his side.

Leon frowned.

Think, Leon. This time it isn't only your ass you are trying to keep alive. You must get Claire home safely.

Leon snorted. If Claire could hear his thoughts, she would be mad.

"Hey, Leon. Look over there!"

Claire's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The woman was pulling his arm and motioning her head at something behind them. The agent looked back and immediately understood.

There was something that stood amidst the leafy sea of forest, and its shape reminded him oddly of a tower.

"Why aren't I surprised?" he said bitterly.

"Looks like trouble, but it might be a good place to start."

"Guess we won't know until we check."

"Yeah, and that usually leads us to more monsters."

"I am sure you are used to that already," Claire smiled, patting his back. "Judging by the sun, it is almost noon. If we are planning to stop for the night, we should think of looking for a place to hide, and maybe something to eat and water."

"Luckily for us, we are in a forest. There should be a water source nearby, and how good are you in botany again?"

"Good enough to not poison you. I'll keep my eyes open for eatables."

He smirked at her comment. Claire was simply adorable sometimes.

"Ok, let's go then."

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! JOIN SERVER

#my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #Cleon #leon x claire #leon s kennedy #claire redfield #claire x leon #Resident Evil

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sanstropfremir · 3 years

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would love to hear ur thoughts re. these street woman fighter's performances and who you would personally vote as the "better dance crew" in how they interpreted each other choreos and the song.

this was for their first elimination round (ep4) and it was interesting to hear from the judges + why they gave the points they did. (i'm not entirely sure if you're watching the show's episodes. they are roughly 2 hours long. so if you would like more context, pls let me know! i wrote brief comments underneath each one as well as the winners [spoilers ahead!]. assuming you are not: for this mission, each crew is paired with another crew and they have to choreograph one of the soloist songs. songs were "split" into two parts: part one [would be one song] and part two [another song]; one crew would choreograph one part and follow the other's crew choreograph for the other part.)

1. boa - eat you up (want choreo) + better (ygx choreo). dance crews: ygx vs want

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCfK_qWAhM0&ab_channel=MnetTV

winner: ygx. boa gave 151 pts to ygx and 49 pts to want (the biggest gap in points between crews), sharing that although want choreographed eat you up, ygx was more cohesive (pointing to how want wore hats and it was messy). additionally, ygx had better stage presence and was able to capture the camera more. also, because ygx is the only crew to have a b-girl and use it in their routine, the judges applauded want for doing the best they can.

2. cl - doctor pepper (wayb) + hello bitches (prowdmon). dance crews: prowdmon vs wayb

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEEpZ9SrvaE&ab_channel=MnetTV

winner: prowdmon. judges shared that doctor pepper's routine is a trademark of wayb and that they should have been the standout. however, they felt like prowdmon did it better.

3. hyuna - crazy (4minute) (coca n butter) + i'm not cool (hook) + lip and hip (hook). dance crews: hook vs coca n butter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e1ikpPKEA30&ab_channel=MnetTV

winner: hook. the two dance crews are VERY different in terms of style. coca n butter is described to be more hip-hop while hook is definitely more reflective of the current/newer trends. (when hook was first introduced in the show, they were known as the crew who was famous only for tiktok dances.) the judges shared that hook was more fun and interesting, given their stylistic choice of wearing the pink wigs. whereas it seemed for coca n butter, they felt like something was lacking (they showed something but it didn't feel they did.)

4. jessi - what type of xx (lachica) + nununa (holybang) + gucci (holybang). dance crews: holybang vs lachica

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtZzI11oyqc&ab_channel=MnetTV

winner: lachica. (this was the only battle where both crews came in v close pts. whereas for the other crews, there were huge point-gaps.) judges had a hard time choosing, sharing that for lachica they were more detail-oriented while holybang had better teamwork.

imo, i agree with the judges' choices. though i would have to say i think wayb did their routine (doctor pepper) better than prowdmon. they stood out to me then, but when it came to the second part (hello bitches), prowdmon was better. i loved lachica's performance - it was v clean + reminded me of something a kpop group would do (which like, the crew largely works with kpop acts like chungha, boa's better, etc. so it makes sense).

this was LONG. thank u if u do read it and post! i miss the kingdom "era" when u would post weekly reviews. the two are v different but this new mnet competition show is the only one i'm invested in. i'm not sure if it's big internationally? i know it is v popular in korea right now. while i've only seen i-fans talk about the show as it relates to chaeyeon (want) because she's an idol. - swf (streetwomanfighter) anon :]

omg this is so long and well organized, forget me writing reviews anon you should do it!! i'm not currently watching the full episodes but i've been catching the few clips that pop up in my youtube recommended occasionally, so i definitely don't have all the context but i'll take a crack at it!

ok so my assumption/from what i can tell, they have a bit of leeway to alter the competing group's choreo as needed to better suit numbers and formations. i also went and found the individual versions of these because why did they make them so small on the split screen, don't they know i'm old and wear glasses. also: MNET FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY STOP MOVING THE FUCKING CAMERA. WE DO NOT NEED SCROLLING VERTICAL BOOM SHOTS OF THIS. just keep the same lens at eye level it's really not that hard. this is like, one of the worst possible ways to shoot dance it is SO annoying. ok i'm done bitching about that let's go.

1. boa - ygx vs want i agree with the big point gap on this one, and i think want made a couple of choices that were not cohesive enough, and obviously they also got set up to fail by ygx. actually i think both groups made choices that were not particularly good, but ygx had more of the skills to back up what they were doing than want did. breaking is very difficult and requires a lot of upper body strength and a higher centre of gravity, which are two physical traits that are less common in women. personally i wouldn't have tried to break to better because although boa songs do have more of a beat than other idol music, it's still not at all the right type of music for breaking. it's gotta be fast, breakers rely on speed, because it's all about momentum; they're literally throwing themselves around the stage. here's the final from battle pro 2019 for example. the music is basically beats only; heavily lyric based music, like idol music, is bad for battling in general because there isn't a lot of consistency. i have more to say about this but i'm getting off track. basically by choosing to handicap the other team (because they don't have a bgirl at all) they shot their own bgirl in the foot because the song is too slow to properly show off her skills. i applaud want for making bold choices, like the hatwork and attempting the breaking, but ultimately when combined with their styling the performance looks disjointed. also they have some formation cohesion issues that make it look a bit like they'e struggling to keep up, even with their own choreo.

2. cl - prowdmon vs wayb i agree with the judges, i think prowdmon bodied the wayb choreo. i actually thought that was their choreo at first. they have the best presence that i've seen of all the groups and the performative "hard bitch" attitude fit in with their genre setting. wayb had several mistakes and synchronization issues that in my opinion made them look sloppy in comparision to prowdmon, who were sharper and had two more people to put into formations. 3. hyuna - hook vs coca n butter ok personally i don't like either of these choreos, but i'm agreeing with the judges here, i think hook's was the mildly more engaging. i can tell that they're very young and do mostly short form tiktok content because i see a lot of eye catching moves, but i don't see a lot of strong connective tissue between those moves. they have good ideas but they also really struggle with putting people into formation and balancing it out well. it doesn't help that they're a seven member crew going up against a four member one, so they have three extra people to figure out what to do with. there's a lot of empty space where there are members waiting in position for a group formation. it also doesn't help at all that they (mnet) appear to just be rawdogging the songs together without any kind of mixing, which is a huge detriment to groups that have to choreograph for two in their section. i'm not cool and lip and hip have two totally different feels and kudos to hook for at least trying to get them to at least visually be cohesive when mnet is go girl giving us nothing sonically. coca n butter has much more of an old school hip hop style, so putting these two up against each other was (probably a random lot draw) an interesting choice. personally i would have been more interested to see hook against want with the boa tracks and ygx against coca n butter with the hyuna tracks. however, i think the reason why coca n butter's stage felt like it was lacking is because they tried to emulate hyuna, without having the stage presence or the weirdness of hyuna. it feels like they're trying too hard and there isn't really any personal character in the piece, versus with hook, who embodied hyuna's weirdness a little more authentically and took a completely different direction. 4. jessi - lachica vs holybang lachica took this one easily, although their formations were a bit wonky for nununana, they covered it fairly well and i think they managed the best transition between songs (between nununana and gucci). they were sharper with good stage pictures and had a good gimmick with the double fringe on the gloves and hats. holy bang had some issues fitting their extra person into the what type of x choreo, but they did well with their own choreo. however, like with coca n butter and hook, because lachica took a new visual spin, this felt too derivative of jessi, so it wasn't that interesting for me to watch. i do think they are one of the groups on the stronger end of skills and presence. --- as far as visually what performances i liked the best, since would this even be a writeup by me if i didn't talk about design, here's a quick breakdown:

prowdmon - got some rudimentary setpieces, got a theme, got some fun variations on a uniform look; excellent for what i assume was limited budget capacity and also it's a dance crew show.

lachica - great continuity of effect in costuming with the fringe, and using the gloves as a mouth/lip effect was one of the most interesting choices of these routines.

hook - the pink wigs and the black latex on the checkered floor was a nice gimmick that was a bit of a nod to hyuna's weird without being too derivative. i'm not expecting a whole lot because these are dance crews but i think this was a decent amount of styling effort.

want - they made a bold choice with the hats and even though it didn't quite pay off for them i still respect it.

coca n butter/ygx/holybang/wayb - ygx and wayb did basic hip hop type styling and while it's absolutely fine, it's just boring. holybang went for a directly inspired jessi look, and although yes bodysuits, overall it wasn't that interesting either. coca n butter get props for doing a costume change and actually incorporating that into the choreo but it feels too much like it's trying to be hyuna weird with the caution tape strapped over their tits and asses.

---

as a final note/question to you, my lovely invested swf anon, what's the format of the show? are there stages like this every episode to review? if these were from the fourth one only, is there anything worth me reviewing in the first three? i'm not particularly interested in the aggressive competitive nature of the show and editing so i don't particularly want to watch the full two hour episodes, but if you think it's worthwhile for me to review stuff then i will. otherwise if there's a set structure (like with kingdom) i can seek out the stages specifically and review them if i know what i'm looking for.

#street woman fighter #swf #swf reviews #i dont really know what the international reception is. the very few people ive seen talking about it on twt #have been insane kpoppies disrespecting boa. so not the best ifan showing so far #am i back in my review era already???? we shall see #(while i still have like EIGHT different asks left. if you wonder why im taking so long to get to some of them. that is why)#(OH plus the first half of the stylings post. and the fabled fave choreos post. so many things in my drafts rn)#(but also please dont stop sending me questions it makes me very happy. the gerbil in my brain is just slow)#dear anon who just asked me about red lights and kink. mwah you are welcome to slide into my dms anytime you like #wait by putting kink in the tags did i just invite a bunch of pornbots onto this #whatever lmao #might need to start a new organizational tag for this because it's only kpop adjacent. thoughts for later #text #answers #ngl these group names are gonna drive me insane. why are all dance crew names so fucking weird

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girlofthefandom · 3 years

Text

Tales from the smp thoughts and random quotes I enjoy (essentially delayed live blogging) Part 1

I love all these npcs already

“Hurry up camera man!”

Yes! Gladiators! I remember seeing someone say that idea

Just some joes

Porkeous the 7th. Oh no I can see the fan girls now.

Yes! Punch em off!!

“Yeah same.”

“That’s good cause I don’t” “we build a new colosseum every time”

I can’t want to see the names of everyone’s characters. Especially Philz’

Stairs everyone’s worst enemy

Tubbo... sweet child

She disappeared!! Witch craft! Burn the witch!

Tubbo=Jacky (forced off streets)

Fundy=Laggius Maximus (I love this name so much with the spinning)

Please don’t kill both the boys in this fight. But also I’m cheating for Laggius.

Subbin Empire? Subbin to Technoblade!

Go Laggius! This is not going to go well... this is really not going to go well...

No I refuse to root for Jacky. I like Laggius the bit will be funnier later.

I want to know what happened to the last camera guy! Let us know!

Vertical feeling! Heaven forbid! Also look at them insulting TikTok

I love the background music. Feels magical.

A lovely jump

Surprises... well that’s ominous. And wait the first one!

Tower! Towers are always good.

We got our popcorn. Ready to watch this fight.

Laggius is... coming... maybe...

GG Jacky... he hasn’t won yet but gg.

Lava!!!! Hooray! Love us some good lava

Poor Laggius... he was burning too early

And Laggius is still lagging

Why isn’t Jacky burning?? He won???

Knocked unconscious in the lava. What is this a Pokémon game?

GG Jacky.

Nobody needs to know the way around here.

“Almost like a video game” just break that fourth wall right down

Keeps looking at sapnaps character and talking about strong. How sweet. We love some fiancé’s.

Please don’t throw Laggius to the wolves

Jack Manifold = Bartholomew

Phil having to translate. I love it.

Watson = Phil

Good pun. Very good pun.

Nobody likes Punz. Gosh everyone’s so mean

We love Watson. Let’s go Watson.

Bartholomew with the drugs and Watson.

Crazy drunk man with fire resistance

I agree with Watson why did we come to this cousin.

Sapnap in a hole

Also I love the drinking age being 3

Let’s go Watson!!!

Where are my Pom poms? I’ve got a Watson to cheer for.

Execute those architects.

And their first Borns.

Watson! Watson! Watson!

“Welcome to the land of the living Bartholomew.”

I love the slow fight.

Come on Watson shoot em!

Oh no. Oh no. Come on Watson. You’re so close!

Noooooooooo.

Why Bartholomew???? I can’t spell that! I’ve been relying on autocorrect this whole time.

Watson would be so much easier to spell.

Still must go down the stairs.

Speed running life. That’s what I do.

No one dies. Just take them to nurse joy.

Poor Punz being so bullied

Punz=Levi

Levi? Really? Oh well I like the name. He won’t like but I like the name.

Also why does Levi have such a full backstory.

Has weapon hands with a horrible southern accent. I love it.

“Hmmm”

Who is Ol’ Sap?

Sapnap = John

And no creativity apparently.

Laggius had the best name for a gladiator. All the others are too boring.

Why are we beating up BBH

Hannah=Genevieve

Genevieve! I can spell that thanks to old Barbie movies!!

Go Genevieve! Trained her life! I love this woman!

Mostly women upstairs. I love it our fandom is so biased.

“Are you sure about that?”

Darlin? Really that’s not the right word.

Go Genevieve! I probably shouldn’t cheer for her since everyone I’ve cheered for has lost.

But still GO GENEVIEVE!!

Our empire is millions in dept

Let’s step up the battle! Let’s gooooo

“Ayyyyy!!!”

Go Genevieve! Levi hush up with your gills.

Jump in! Splish Splash!

Wait why are we listening to Mario Kart music? Wait I recognize this song.

Go Genevieve!!

YES FINALLY! I PICKED THE WINNER!

Levi hush. You done lost messed up southern boi.

Go Genevieve! I can actually spell your name!

I straight forgot Porkeous the 7ths name for a second and had to check my notes.

Stairs. Woop de doo.

“Pick the most handsome” wow

Ol’ Sap = John as I remember. And he’s sticking with it. Bold man sticking with it.

Ranboo = Ran

Just Ran and it’s just the enderman part of the skin. Haha. Very funny.

BBH = Edward

He went from strange voice to normal(ish) voice

I don’t like Edwards speech pattern. At the very least. Yucky.

John v. Edward letsa go

Go John!

Wait we renaming? This is going to get confusing.

Handsome. Can you two quit flirting (not really keeping going)

Alrighty then Ugly v. Edward

Go Ugly! (Sentence I never expected to type)

The seat thing

And saying king Julien. Sigh.

Just BRB real quick.

Thinking about buying things. Oh he meant ad.

Alright Ad 1/3 let’s go.

No I can’t even open chat to watch them instead of the ad. Boooo.

2/3 let’s get this done!

3/3

Snickers just loading for forever

Alrighty we survived.

And a crown really? Just wants his normal skin back.

Let’s go Ugly!

Bo-at battle! Let’s go!

Please don’t shoot Ugly.

Go Ugly!

“King Are you ok!”

I still hate Edwards speech pattern so much

Please. Just pretend to have a fair fight.

The rabbits???? Cant rabbits swim?

Hooray rabbits! I don’t what purpose they serve but I love them.

Edward or Edwardo? Did I miss something?

Ok it seems both.

Shooting a rabbit? Disowner on you disowner on your cow.

Killing pets reference? The references are so good.

YES UGLY!!!! Thank heavens!

I’m 2/4 for choosing the winner.

I hope ugly keeps on winning

“Colosseum Remote Control”

3 in 1 battle how did they not plan correctly for an even number

Nerds hold cameras you heard it here folks

I don’t want to hear deeper for some of these stories. All I want to see is Genevieves further story. She seems deep.

“Massive pigs growling at us. No offense”

Watson trying to clean the table.

We bringing in the Harmonika.

Harmonika fits the moment.

Yes name him handsome! Haha

Grievous is how I’m spelling that stupid sounding name. But it’s better than John and ugly.

I can’t get over the name Ran.

BE GONE LEVI!

I love Watson having to take care of Bartholomew. Translating for him and waking him up.

Phil just can’t resist playing the dad.

No no stopping just fighting.

Also I love Watson saying break it up. I wish Watson had won.

Genevieve sounds like such a lovely lady and she deserves to win.

As much as I love Grevious I want Genevieve to win.

Sapnap=Grevious good gracious this is hard to follow.

Ran is cool. I’m going to kill over listening to them just saying Ran.

Complicated backstory. Found the main character.

Ran is cool.

Wait this place is going down??? Pardon me???

Three person fight is...

Grevious v. Ran v. Bartholomew

Genevieve v. Jacky

Puns! Let’s go! And of course Levi likes Puns.

Everyone is so mean.

GO GENEVIEVE!

And Watson just babysitting Bartholomew

I’m going to get good at spelling Bartholomew. Because I was horrible at it before.

Empire of women!

Cages=Lava

“Mmm what smells good”

Battle star!!

“Boing Boing Boing”

Water dome?

Water Dome in Lava?

Well he tried zombies/bunnies

Lava in the water sphere?

Only fight at top of fishbowl got it.

GO GENEVIEVE!

Come on girl you’ve got this!

No Genevieve babe please don’t lose.

“The boats going down.” “It’s yelling timber.” “Like that song that hasn’t been made yet.”

Hurry up and die. I love it.

NO GENEVIEVE!!!!!

Do do do do

That was a longer fight. But pretty good.

To the cellars! Not to the cellars!

No! The boat is gone!

That was close.

This feels like a funky Pokémon game.

Jacky is a finalist! Good for him. I’m not cheering for him but good for him.

TRIANGLE FORMATION

Who’s missing? Oh wait it’s Bartholomew

“Intense prison cosmetic surgery”

Rabbits! We love rabbits.

Oh no faceplant mode!

What is even happening?!?!

Thinking creatively.

Just don’t die. What a game.

Cant wait to watch the thinking creatively animatic.

In a boat to avoid floating.

Attack!

Go Ran!

Oh we’re lagging.

Disable the dive mode!

The zombies are a bit much. Oh everyone’s actually fighting.

Rats why weren’t there baby zombies when Watson was going. They even made a Phil reference.

No treaties.

Go Ran! Keep on running away.

I love Ran.

GO RAN! I love Grevious. But GO RAN

Faster Zombies. Zombies go zoom.

Oh Grevious won.

Wait why does Ran have grass and why do they see him again.

Placing more dirt to clean old dirt.

Poor Grevious.

I feel sorry for him now.

Stand on da dirt.

Put the rabbits in the cages!!!!

I cheer for Grevious.

And yes there are many a loser.

Everything is so spicy. As in lava is there.

You can’t kick your fiancé’s future descendent out of the gang.

A full inventory

Watson with the backup button!

Seriously all he can do is be a dad.

OH BOY LAGGIOUS IS BACK!

And he’s here for the picture.

And Watson is (still) bullying him!

Bartholomew is pure trouble.

Ooops. The root beer was on the brain.

Watson! Come get your drunk!

Oh wait he actually did! I love this so much.

Petition for more Phil in Tales.

Only Genevieve voting for Jacky

Some people refusing to vote.

I’m sorry who asked if Laggius is ok.

He is always (not) ok

He is fine. See.

I love Laggius’ character the most.

Go winners!

Reformed kinda. If that doesn’t sum up the whole of the smp.

All the grass in the cage.

And Laggius being his slow self.

Nothing v. General

I love how it went from King to Emperor to King

And there is Laggius.

I don’t know how anyone else is spelling Laggius but I like this way and refuse to edit it if it actually spelled different.

Oh we’re getting more ads.

1/3 let’s go

#tales from the smp #tftsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp #delayed liveblogging

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grim-faux · 3 years

Text

2 _ 29 _ The Funeral

First

TW For mild mention of blood and tooth loss

Not sleeping was the norm. How bothersome a need it was, sometimes he doubted it was really all that necessary. More of a hazard than anything, to be so out of touch with the world for… for… for however long it took. He didn’t know. All he knew was, when your legs couldn’t carry you, you found a place to nest down. In a pack everyone nested together, someone kept watch and made sure the dream haunts didn’t get too horrible.

Some kids, like Mono, did the half sleep. It was hard to get right, since all the work and bits of scavenged food contributed to utter exhaustion. Most children would only risk a full sleep if they thought they would likely die anyway. Some kids were just nuts. The lack of full sleep and mix of dream haunts made children go off the deep end.

One time Mono saw a kid go off the deep end. It was back when he was so tiny, he could get overlooked by some monsters. He barely knew what he was let alone who he was. The world was a wild and ruthless place, and it all swirled around his barely coherent head where everything was hostile and depraved. Or hungry.

It was the first pack he knew. Older kid and Smaller kid. He was in the middle in height and experience. They perched in a lump on a windowsill of some hut, he thought it was a hut. It was forever ago. Older kid made the decisions, and he was big, and he was trying to decide how to get out of the window with all of them together. Mono was only a little bigger than Smaller kid, so he took it upon himself to keep the boy (or girl? He really didn’t know) from falling. The thing putting a hitch in the plan was an adult far below, sitting on a makeshift bench, warming its hands on a fire sprouting from a tall canister.

Junk lay everywhere, metal siding and lumber, tall canister filled with more stuff. Furniture, old ovens and crushed refrigerators, more metal and jagged things between those. No shortage of hiding spaces, but no direction either. Some of the piled high debris looked on the verge of collapse, if the adult was intent enough. A pyramid of mix and matched domestic refuse collapsed, trapping them in this space. They wanted out.

The weirdest noise came from below, but due to the height and the jumbled terrain it was impossible to fix the actual place. At the time, Mono had never heard such a racket.

Then this sticky figure tore out from a wedge among piles of cement and darted across the ruined floor, to the adult.

Made a beeline across ruble, climbed a steep incline. To reach the adult.

The memory jarred Mono a bit. He rubbed at his eyes, scrubbing out the gummy sensation from another yawn. Despite the rain, he felt very dry and muggy. While the Thin Man paused to study the large speek pictures on a standing board, he went to the curbside and sipped at the water in the gutter. It looked mostly clean, the unyielding rain ran fast and cold.

His hat tipped off and he had to snatch it before the rapids swept it away. When he sprang back up, the Thin Man was already striding away with a swell of gray vapor trailing his hat. It was always a struggle to keep pace with the Thin Man, especially when he flashed ahead. Sometimes Mono could skip across open chasms or skip through barriers of ruble, but that wore him down.

In a flicker, the Thin Man reappeared within the other side of a broken-out window. Some suitcases and a crate gave Mono the boost, allowing him to conserve his energy. He tried not to overuse the teleporting, even if the Thin Man insisted he needed practice. It was most reliable when he wasn’t so tuckered out, but his head had cleared up since the last stop and rest spot.

The building was one of the food places. She called it restaurant. It was a kitchen, or a place attached to a kitchen. Foods? Stop and eat?

He hurried over to the Thin Man and grabbed his ankle. The tall figure dropped his scrutiny of the many tables and toppled chairs, to check with him.

“Hey,” Mono whispered. He bounced on his tiptoes and pointed to the big counter. The kitchen and foods. Check for foods. “The eats.” Over there.

The Thin Man averted his gaze and kept walking. The actual door of the diner place was beside another larger window, where a long counter stretched with a line of chairs anchored to the floor.

Too dangerous, Mono supposed. The tall thin man preferred the quiet rooms with lots of shadows and furniture, places for Mono to hide and feel safe. He didn’t like the incidents.

While the Thin Man flickered and faded out, Mono was left to… find a…. He looked around a bit. Beneath a table, he located a bucket. He carried it over to the anchored chairs, plopped it down and climbed on top. Once he found a broken portion of the window he could crawl out of, he checked the sidewalk. As always, the Thin Man moved fast in his methodical pace, he was halfway down the city block and blurred with the heavy mist of rainfall.

A few times, the Thin Man did speek like they were going someplace specific. The man in the hat was always away, going somewhere and finding food. Usually a toy. He didn’t grasp what a place would be, where he would want to stay. Mono wouldn’t stay anywhere. Not forever, anyway. Even the Thin Man admitted it wasn’t a good idea, to keep one place.

By the time he caught up with the Thin Man, he was well out of breath and gasping on the heavy air. At least it looked like the sidewalk was clear for a distance. He stole a deep breath and yawned. His face hurt from all this yawning.

Most likely, the man in the hat wanted the right place to nest. It was funny to think of an adult nesting, but the musing conjured up twisted thoughts of the Hunter and his nightmare world of rot and strange fake pack. Fake. Fake. F̶͔͋ā̶̧͌̄̍̚k̷̖̹̜̺̈́̎̃̾ẻ̶͚̬͔̰͐.

Crack!

Mono spat blood. His hands slapped over his mouth and he choked, more blood and a little something piece. Drawing his hands back, he stared at the vibrant color in his palm and the broken bit. Raindrops cleared some of the color, and he could see more of his skin. Along with the piece. His tooth!

It hurt and he was bleeding pretty good. What did he do? What happened? He snapped his teeth together, and the tooth cracked! He’d been so careful, chewing the best that he could.

The Thin Man! He was getting away, crossing the road.

Mono chased, despite not getting his second wind. The Thin Man won’t wait. He needed to stop though, he had to check the damage while everything was calm. He had to fix this somehow. The tooth was broke clean away, he tried to look at the thing while he ran. This was stupid. And he had a dumb gap where his tooth should be, blood all over his gums. How did teeth work? Glue? Sticky tape?

At current, nothing could be done with the tooth. He jammed it in his pocket and focused on keeping pace with the tall thin man.

On the other side of the road opened a narrow alley, which appeared to suit the Thin Man’s direction. The debris wasn’t out of control, the usual boxes and dumpsters from the business which had access to the passage. Mono still didn’t like alleys and tried to keep close to the tall figure; whatever radiance spared by the canopy was all but shunned from, among the imposing buildings huddled in.

The few barriers that came about, one being a fence and the other a wide gap, Mono managed on his own. When it came to the sizable gap, which he had no confidence in teleporting across as the Thin Man did, he had to explore his surroundings. And fast. There was the ladder of a fire escape, and from there a long vertical pole anchored to the side of the building. A portion of the building was indeed hollowed and ruined, by the formation of the chasm. However, a long cable dangled a few feet down, from some window, prompting Mono to take a leap of faith.

All went well enough, if not panic inducing. Mono made it back to the buckled floor of the alley and rushed after the man in the hat. If he asked, maybe the Thin Man would chase him again? Or was busy with other children? The man in the hat just didn’t like to chase Mono.

When he reached the alley end, he looked out before taking the full run after the tall thin man. He wondered where they would be going, or when they would reach; he needed sit and quiet. The row of skyscrapers on this side of the block appeared lamenting their stature and drooped dangerously backwards. A Viewer crashed to the road and lay, shards of glass glittering in its scalp and face.

Mono tilted his head far back and examined the heights, and the rain shimmering. He turned a little and winced when he spied the Thin Man glaring at him, a thick plume of vapor obscuring his eyes. Tucking his head low, Mono began to move closer.

“W̷̹̌h̶̜̑ã̴̤t̶͇͐ ̶̟̑H̵̘͝a̵̗̾p̶̗͘p̸̥͋ḛ̸̏n̴̺̽ḙ̶͋d̴̹̀?̵͛ͅ”

Mono stalled and tightened his shoulders. He wasn’t careful. Hurt himself again. He used the bandage on his arm to wipe the blood from his chin. “Aam safe,” he rasped. “S’okay.”

“M̶̤̀ô̸̳n̸̩̓o̴̟̊.̸̭̉.̷̱̄.̶̝͛.̸͖̌” The voice crackled. “A̴̘̔ȑ̴̜è̶̡ ̷̛͔Y̶̙͆o̸̙͠u̶̩͛ ̶̡̏L̸̩î̴͚c̶̢̏k̸̩̈i̸͚̓n̷͜͝ḡ̵̬ ̸̛̭T̸̜͗ẖ̴̂a̵̰͒t̷̪̀ ̵̖́Ẃ̶̼ô̸̝u̴̠̒ṋ̵̌d̸̺̚ ̴̈́͜Ȁ̵̗g̵̋ͅȁ̵̦i̶͇̍ņ̸̕?̵̢̅”

He shook his head. That was the truth. “Not.” He held up his arm, showing the soaked bandage. “S’not. Th’s good.”

That wasn’t good enough for the Thin Man. The tall, narrow shadow stretched as he closed in on Mono. In response, Mono skittered backwards by a few steps, but resisted a full-on retreat. The bandaged arm he held to its fullest extent, as if to answer all the perplexities in the Thin Man’s hat. Alas, there were no good enough answers for the Thin Man.

The Thin Man knelt on one knee and held out his hands. “Let me see.”

Mono shook his head and withdrew further. “Not. Aam right.”

“W̴̝̋h̴̰͠e̷͉r̶̨͝ê̶͔ ̷͆ͅD̶̲̿i̸͉̚d̷͓͠ ̴͖̔T̷̨͝h̵͍͐a̸̗͆t̶͙̽ ̴̲̽B̴͔͠l̴̞̀ō̶ͅö̸̠́d̴͚̔ ̷͇͘C̶̯͘o̵͍͝m̷̪͆e̶̞͒ ̸̰̿F̸̻͝r̶̩̚ŏ̴̫m̵̱͒?̷̹̏ I need to know.” He reached out further. “Last warning.”

With no alternatives and full of angry thoughts, Mono hissed.

And was unceremoniously snatched off the sidewalk. His hat toppled off his head, and he dearly missed it. This time he didn’t fuss or thrash, Mono hung inert as the fingers pulled at his arms and prodded his chest, turning him this or that way, nudging at his ribs and spine. There wasn’t much he could do, but avert his face and let the Thin Man satisfy his curiosity.

It reminded him of the fake children.

“W̸͓͘h̵͎̎e̵̳̕ṛ̵̿ě̸̥ ̶̺̕A̵͈̚r̴̤̓e̴̟͊ ̶͍̅Y̶͉̅o̶̯͆û̸͉ ̶͍̓H̸͈͐u̷̦r̶̭͝t̶̹?̶̤”

The one on the other side of the gate. She used the key to carve open a frog. He hated the fake children.

“C̷̫͛ǫ̴̆ǫ̵́p̸̰̍è̷̥r̸̭̊â̴̮ṱ̴̽e̶̲͑ ̶̙̓W̶͇̽i̷̛͙ť̷͎h̵̦͊ ̶̗̆M̸̳͊e̷̫̊ ̶̺̐Ȍ̶ͅr̴͚̃ ̵̼͆İ̶̥'̶̪̽l̵̼̎l̷̯̚ ̷̈ͅG̵̦̚i̷̗̓v̵̼̾ȅ̶̝ ̴͇̎Y̵̜͠o̷̮̊u̸͑ͅ ̷̡̃S̴̉͜o̷̫̕m̴̻e̴̼̒ẗ̵̠́h̷͕̉i̵͔͐n̶̳͋g̴̫͝ ̷͕̇T̴̞̐o̸͔̓ ̷̭͐W̷̧̍h̵̩̔ḭ̷̀m̵̟̈́p̷̗̋ę̷̎r̸̼̃ ̵̘̑A̵͙̋b̸͓̀o̵͓u̴̙̿t̵̝̉.̸̠̃”

They were creepy and did frightening things to each other. She looked so happy, ripping out the inside parts. Like the Hunter. Take stuff out, put other stuff in. The Thin Man was prying his coat off. He didn’t care.

“D̴͍̊i̷͍͠d̶̯̿ ̵̕ͅY̴̠̑ȍ̶̥ŭ̵͉ ̵̊͜F̴͝ͅa̸͕̾l̸̜̍ļ̶͆?̸͉̈́ Did you hit your side? Where does it hurt? What is the matter?”

If the man in the hat wasn’t careful, he was going to break him. Or rip his arm off. But after struggling with his listless arms, Mono was liberated of one fantastic coat. He wanted it back, but the Thin Man wanted it more. Keeping his breathing even was becoming difficult, he was soggy and very tried, and very hungry too. He wanted to be in a snug space in the wall, or fitted into a cupboard with some clothing. Sleeping.

“Ĭ̸̖ ̶̡͋D̷̛̩ỏ̷̹ ̸̡̊N̵̺͠o̸͙͆ṭ̷͝ ̴̟̚R̶̛͚e̶͈͘c̵̖a̴̤̅l̶̗͝l̶̙͗ ̵̖̓G̴͎̐e̶̞̋t̸̪͑t̷̺͛ǐ̵ͅn̶̢̎g̴̮̍ ̴̗̅T̴̜̔h̷̨̑i̵̺͌s̴͇̅ ̷̭̉B̶͈̋ľ̵̰ò̷̧o̶͍̽d̶͉͠i̶͕͂e̷̺͆ď̵̪ ̷̧͝Û̷̙p̵͙̏ ̸̯̾W̶̳͑h̵̭͑e̶͍͝n̵͖ ̷̧̀I̸̬̐ ̶͈̌W̵̼̊ä̷̪́s̷̮̎ ̸̗͒Ÿ̶͍ơ̶̲u̸̝̕,̴͍̃” or whatever.

Mono crushed the groan in his throat as the man in the hat squeezed roughly at his guts, as if trying to supply an injury in the absence of one. The treatment knocked the air out of his lungs and probably bruised him, but he wasn’t sure what to say. At all. The Thin Man always went nuts when he got cut. This wasn’t new. It likely wouldn’t stop either.

“J̷̪͆U̸̗͘Ş̴̈́T̵̝͋ ̷̺̈́S̶̳̏P̴͉̈́E̶͈̍E̵̫̅K̴͇̑!̶̬͗ ̵͓̀ WHAT IS THE MATTER?” The Thin Man held him with his glinting eyes, the bill of his cap barred the droplets from hitting Mono.

“E’tooth,” he mumbled. Where was his coat? He looked aside. Those eyes became infinitely more intense and deadly.

“Ỳ̸̟ò̸̧u̷̡͗r̵͇̓.̸̽ͅ.̵͍̚.̶̢̈́ ̵̮̌Ṯ̶̈ȏ̶͖o̷͇̚t̶͓͊h̸̞̾?̶̰͊” drawled the man in the hat.

Mono nodded. The Thin Man held his body cradled in his palms, and he didn’t suspect this would end well. Should the Thin Man decide to dump him and go away, Mono could try and find him later. That was possible. Maybe. He would chase.

He did whine when the Thin Man pinched him around the face, the pressure popped his jaw open. The smoke and static saturated the air, he could pretty much taste it. He envisioned a dusty, dry hollow beneath a dresser, where he could hide and not be looked at. Dark and hidden, lost completely and detached from the cold, soaked, miserable world. For a while he could forget who he was, where he wanted to go.

“I̶̢̓s̷̛̟ ̵̥͐T̸͓̅h̶͚̆a̶͓͆t̶̗͌ ̶̧̓A̴̓ͅl̴̬̔l̴̝͆ ̵͍̈́T̸̟͘h̴̭͗a̸̠͌t̵͕̀ ̷̫͌I̶̼͗s̸̳̋ ̸̦̂W̵͎͌ṛ̶͝o̵̖̊n̷̪̏g̴̘̓?̶͈̔ A missing tooth?”

Even if he wasn’t restrained, Mono had no response. It was a little more than, “Is that all?” as if nothing was wrong. He didn’t want to lose one or any teeth. Some kids lost all their teeth, and eating was much more tedious. Eating on its own was a peril, and then to have no teeth for biting or fighting.

“Where did it go? Did you swallow it?”

When he was finally released, Mono sat up from the fingers and shook his head. As well, he held his face. Hurt.

“C’n fix?” he whispered. “Way to’ix?” With some hope, he pried the tooth from his pocket and held the piece between his fingers. He inched down as the Thin Man leaned closer, studying (for him) the microscopic thing.

His next statement shattered Mono. “There is nothing to fix. Your teeth are going to come out.”

That was not what he wanted. Really? All! How would he fight children? Or be angry at the Thin Man? He already hated the sensation of one missing tooth. But a whole mouth?

Mono coughed on blood. “No. But fix? Can?” The tall thin man set him down on the sidewalk, and Mono struggled to stand straight on his numb feet and offer his tooth. “S’way? Mah tooth? Broke.” He stared at the coat offered to him, by the Thin Man’s hands. He snatched the coat away and hugged it to his chest.

All his teeth? Come out. He has to stop that from happening.

“Your tooth is not broken,” the static rustled. “It was supposed to come out. As will they all.”

Mono didn’t want to listen. He curled down with his coat, clutching the lost tooth until his fingernails bore into his palm. “Not. T’bad.” The static whirred through his bones, like the rain pelting the sidewalk surrounding him. The cold shadow draped over him. He couldn’t imagine eating with no teeth.

“Mono,” the static rumbled. “Come now. It isn’t the end of the world.” A strange tense pause followed, the electricity bristled. “Your teeth will come back.”

That last noise caught Mono’s attention. Did he hear right? It was always hard with the Thin Man. “Teeth?” He turned his face up, searching for insight or guidance. Was the Thin Man lie? How did tooth come back? “Mean? Teeth.” The Thin Man tilted his head, regarding him. The look was strange. Was disappointed.

“Not all at once.” The Thin Man pushed off his knee and slowly stood to his full height. Mono glared up at him, suspicious yet. “Not long, a new tooth will sprout where the old one held occupancy.”

Mono didn’t understand. “Ock-pency?”

The Thin Man took his smoke thing and tapped it. “You’ll get a new tooth. That gap will not be there forever.”

A new tooth. He’ll have a new tooth. “Not trick? Aam’tooth back?” He stumbled back when the Thin Man nudged him off with his shoe. “How know?” He chased after the Thin Man when he began walking.

“You are child,” he supplied, tone cracking. “All children lose their teeth at some point. Then, you will get your new teeth. Ḅ̷̕e̸̺͊t̶̮́ţ̶̀è̶͙r̶̮͂ ̵̢̔T̸̖̈ȅ̴͔ě̵̥ṭ̴͝h̵̙̄.̶̦”

Why did he sound angry? Was better teeth not good? He still didn’t understand anything, but he wasn’t so sad. Maybe it would be okay.

“Do you still have that tooth?”

Did want? Mono rushed after the Thin Man, holding up his tooth. He didn’t think the man in the hat would actually be able to hold it. For the tall-tall thin man, it was about the same size as a grain of sand; Mono had a hard time holding tiny bits of crumbs, he didn’t know if the Thin Man could do that.

The Thin Man looked his way, the corner of his lip twitching. “No. You keep that safe.” The tall figure continued his leisurely saunter. “We will do something about that.”

That didn’t sound great and Mono was dubious about the “do something”. Regardless, he hurried after the lazy pace of the tall thin man, bouncing over a crumbled cardboard box and wadded shirts packed onto the cracked pavement. As he goes, he managed to untangle his wadded coat and slip it securely over his arms, the fabric was waterlogged despite its resistant cover. He stuck the tooth in his pocket and crawled over a slanted piece of furniture; other debris and chunks of material from a buildings interior littered the sidewalk.

Eventually, the bleeding of his gum stopped. It still tasted off, and Mono stopped to get another quick sip of water from a storm gutter, before racing after the man in the hat. He was always very cautious of the dark openings between buildings, or hollowed spaces beneath the stairs reaching up for crumbling doorways. As typical as the rain fell, keeping close to the Thin Man made him feel safe-eR in the presence of strange clicking manifestations lurking, observing with vacant empty skulls, gnashing cracked teeth jammed into swollen jaws.

The adult… monster, didn’t pay attention to those strange bent creatures. Not often but occasionally, he thought he saw something lumbering and yellow, huddled deep in an alley. A large frame of yellow curled over wild and stringy hair, arms twisted into impossible directions, fingers scarred and nails splintered. There was nothing ever there, he knows, he’s certain. He blinked and wrenched around, but always, the disjointed nightmare has vanished. And he would scurry after the Thin Man, checking around the weaving strides in case a long arm breached its boarders, to reach out and swipe for him.

She was gone. She would never come back for him.

The infinite road receded at some point, to sandbags and packed gravel. Leaning and cracked skyscraper would never be in short supply, and remained as a constant frame of the world. The Pale City. The territory Mono had come to exist in, with no clear exit, no defined escape, no roads led out from the decrepit ruins. The buildings extended to the end of the world, there was nothing beyond the horizon but more lofty skyrises full of televisions and creatures hiding in the gouged shell of a forgotten world.

A tree and another, and another, stand dwarfed by the backdrop. Somehow, the Thin Man’s imposing stature is humbled by the knotted branches reaching for natural radiance, but denied. Other items, such as a crushed television or half-submerged desk, stand out across the spongy landscape. A partially buried portion of window is also there, and the remains of more buildings and all the things forgotten from the inside worlds.

And the chair.

The tall thin man held up short to regard the slanted furniture piece on the knoll. After a puff of smoke, the figure continued walking. Mono stood longer, observing. This was so familiar, like something he saw in a dream. Somehow the chair conveyed such… betrayal and hurt, but also comfort. Of so much time but nothing happening. He was waiting. It was waiting for him.

With a shake of his head, he broke the trance and charged across the gravel. He couldn’t see the tall thin man or really smell him, if not for the footprints fitted deep in the soft soil he might've lost his way completely among the scraggily brush. Mono jumped over some of the imprints and others he weaved around; water collected in the troughs quickly, creating a sequence of vibrating pools.

“Beach,” Mono murmured, to himself. He didn’t see the big water, he couldn’t hear it over the drone of static and thrumming rain splattering the rolling mounds. A few times, his feet sink deep into the soil, but he is swift to liberate himself – crawl from the mud – and picked his way more carefully across the terrain.

At the end of the impressions long trail, he discovered the Thin Man poised beneath a tall tree scuffing the soil with his shoe. “Bury your tooth.”

Curious but more dubious, Mono peeked around a pillar of a leg. He sniffled and inched forward. “For whu?” A puddle already began collecting in the bottom of the hole.

“It’s a farewell,” the static rustled. “You can say goodbye to the tooth. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Goodbye. Mono didn’t like goodbyes. He didn’t have many, everyone he once knew was taken. Snatched away. Keeping someone or anything, was temporary. There was no such thing as goodbye, only loss and regret.

“Has keep?” he uttered, with a tug to the Thin Man’s ankle. “Sad f’leave. Not.” The Thin Man shuffled away from him.

“You don’t need to keep it. You need to say goodbye.” The man in the hat peered down at him, and tilted his head. “It’s no use to you.”

NoNoNoNo. No goodbyes! It was his, he had to keep it! She left him when he was no good. The tooth was still good, it was his fault. He broke it. He did the wrong. And he lost another hat too!

Mono huddled down, searching the scraggily shrubs and waterlogged clothing, yet there was no place to crawl into for hide and wait. “Not. Aam tooth.” He wrapped his arms up over the back of his neck and rubbed at his hair. He didn’t want the goodbye. He wanted his tooth back.

And what if the Thin Man was just strange too, like him? What if his tooth never grew back? There could be a way to fix this, and put it back. Maybe he needed to set it back in place and it would be okay. He had to do something.

The static whirred. “Child. You can’t keep it. You have to let it go.”

Mono shook his head. “Be lone’ee. T’leave,” he choked. “Still good. If’ex

It was very-very quiet for a long while, only the prattle of rain on the sound gravel and the trickle of rushing gulley’s across the ripple landscape. Hours might’ve passed, or it was only minutes, Mono couldn’t tell. He huddled under the downpour, trying to squeeze all the drenching from the layers of his clothing. His undershirt hadn’t gotten soaked too badly, but it was still damp from layers of mist.

When he couldn’t stand the grueling drag of the clock, Mono turned his head up and looked to the tall thin man in the hat. The impassive figure watched through a swell of smoke, only a fraction of the chiseled face defined – unimpressed. Dissatisfied by Mono’s powers of reasoning.

With a wet hiccup, Mono dug around in his pocket until he had the tooth secured. He moved up a bit, on his knee and hand, until he was at the edge of the hole. It was a good depth, but that came as no surprise as the Thin Man dug it. He was cautious about getting too near the edge, in case the Thin Man decided to bury Mono as well.

He extended his hand and let the tooth fall into the murky puddle at the pit. When the tooth was relieved of his grasp, the Thin Man began nudging soil in over the liberated bit of white. However, Mono was not completely settled on the idea, and remained crouched beside the opening, observing intently as the layers added on. Until the surface of the ground was even with his hands.

“Still t’ere,” Mono mumbled.

“Sure it is,” the static hummed. “Maybe it will make this tree grow big and strong.”

Mono didn’t look up, but opted to keep his laser focus on the disturbed soil. “Tree’s ded.” A terse silence followed. He began prying at clumps of saturated gravel.

“Don’t do that, child. Let it be.” The Thin Man bent over and gripped Mono by his shoulder.

“No,” he wheezed. “Lon’eh. Be sad. Aam not want’d.” He couldn’t shrug from the finger pinching him, hauling him away. “Want. D’nt not wrong. Was good.” When he was released, he went right back to the scuffed earth and resumed pawing at the surface. Even if it was futile, and he couldn’t hope to displace that much cold dirt.

Mono winced at the snap from above and retreated back off the grave, muddy arms tucked under his stomach. The Thin Man brought down a branch and jammed it into the ground.

“Your tooth will no longer be lonely. It has a tol friend,” grumbled the Thin Man. He resumed his impressive stature and crossed his arms, observing with a thick plume of smoke. While Mono uncurled himself and scooted closer to the crooked tree limb, standing mighty beneath the heavy rainfall. The branch was narrow and straight, its top splayed like a spiderweb.

For an unknown span, Mono stood and regarded the branch. “Keep,” he murmured. “S’safe now.”

With a scratchy sigh, the Thin Man swung away and walked. “Yes. Absolutely.” After a few steps, he paused and looked back. It took much longer than reasonable to discern what it was he wanted to convey. “Did you want to tell… your tooth something, before leaving?”

As before, Mono was huddled down and focused on the patch of churned soil. He shrugged his shoulders and stood up. The Thin Man took this cue, and resumed his leisure movement. Every yard or meter, Mono still had to slow his dash in order to look back. Keep view of the tall tree, the branch beneath it, and the patch or worn gravel. Soon the mist obscured the ragged space of ground, and it was only the branch and the tree visible in the thickening vapor. The next time Mono glimpsed back, it is only the tall dead tree among its gathering of other dead trees. Then at last they reach a section of ruptured road, and the looming structures of melancholy buildings.

Mono grabbed the Thin Man’s ankle, tugging and pulling, until he lost his footing and skidded to his face on the muddy asphalt. Recovering in haste, he lunged for the tall thin man’s ankle trying to get his attention with vigorous yanking. Finally, the tall figure stopped and glared down on him. Mono wished he had a hat.

“Th’r still,” he hissed. “Wait. But… hide.” Mono pointed the way they came, though he is certain the man in the hat wouldn’t grasp his meaning. “We… can re’ember.” With a flicker, the Thin Man reappeared a distance away, on his slow stride. Huffing, Mono followed.

“I would say so,” the Thin Man crackled. “You will never forget, will you?”

Mono shook his head, while he jammed a finger in his mouth and felt for that weird space inhabiting his mouth. Tooth gone. He wasn’t going to get used to it. He wanted to ask more, but he was taxed as it was from the distressing event and everything he had to think about. Losing a tooth hurt, would the hurt always be there? As well, the obstacles and keeping up with the Thin Man.

He tried not to yawn anymore.

The road the Thin Man followed, fell apart on one side. It wasn’t a complete gaping chasm, but the depth was severe and to the furthest Mono could make out, ledges and shattered staircases decorated the inner maw. At the opposite side, a portion of the road and its line marks dipped deep into the rocky side. A slanted electrical/telephone pole hung by its base, its cord connecting across the wound to another of the same city decoration. The Thin Man flashed, bypassing the line sloped across the road.

Sometimes seeing the wide rifts like that one gave Mono a think about so much, such as what he was doing, where he was going. Planning never ceased, he had to always be on alert, keep watch, and find food for him and the Thin Man (One day the Thin Man might change his mind), and keep the shelter safe. Learn new tricks too, that was most important. Only so many hide spots could keep one safe.

Adults did speek to each other too! Mono didn’t really understand that, not until the Thin Man studied the marks left on poster paper, a swarm of it pinned to a cinderblock wall beside a window. The large pages held so much mark speek, and some picture speek. Mono didn’t understand the pictures, they were too faded. However, the tall thin man seemed able to figure through the mark speek.

The Thin Man looked down at Mono, and Mono felt that familiar swath of warmth in his chest. He didn’t have pack, but he had… together. A someone. He smiled at the man in the hat. Searching for a safe place was always his favorite. Not being left, but doing stuff. To the explore was important, always! New foods. New hide spaces. New places and things to look at.

New dangers. Not his favorite. But danger was always following. Flee was endless, even if the monsters hadn’t found them yet.

With a little grimace, the man in the hat went on his way. Ever and always casual with his stride, never in a hurry to reach wherever he was going. And Mono chased.

This is what he did now. He chased the Thin Man. Later, maybe he could find some paper and crayons. If the Thin Man was interested in the speek, they could try share again. It would be nice if he could go with the man in the hat, to the danger places he sought. The whole city was no good, and he should make certain the Thin Man stayed safe. The tall thin man may not be good at tricks, but he was good at getting away. Flee would always be most important.

Mono managed a skip in his step. So much to do, so much to plan. When he got close enough to the tall thin man, he tugged on his ankle. Just to let him know he was there and close.

The rain became more intense as the two figures ventured along a broken section of road, a gnarled banking path with an upheaval in its eventual future course. Until averting their path, the travelers followed the street faithfully. The sizzling curtain of droplets scrubbed out the child’s shape first, but not soon thereafter the tall, impossibly narrow stature of the man in the hat dissolved away, as if scoured out by the lashing static of television screen; his trademark hat blurred among the weaving streaks, before that too vanished entirely.

High above the city blanket of warped and shattered superstructures, one lone monolith stands uncontested at the crux of the angry, churning clouds. The hot ember of the Signal Tower shimmered brightest, cutting through haze and fog; it glowered upon the knotted and twisted roads, the skewered thoroughfares. To it, the entirety of the Pale City is naught, but an ant farm filled with burrows and aimless, wandering drones. The Tower shakes the canister which holds the soil; buildings topple, denizens of the Signal are tussled or crushed, absorbed completely and assimilated to the one true Eye. The world, its world, renews. The workers rebuild the bare essentials to hold the Viewers in rapt attention, the Signal persists. The Flesh is eternal.

Beneath its thrumming heartbeat, it demanded adoration. Passion. Obsession.

Lives.

The Signal Tower is never deliberate in its methods, but it achieves all goals established. Regardless the stakes, notwithstanding the cost, no matter how messy that gets.

All it needs do is exist and wait. It is and shall always be.

#little nightmares #mono #the thin man #thin dad #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #mono loses a tooth #and it's scary for child

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dragons-socks · 3 years

Text

Baby Bumblebee chptr 4

////////Six Months Later\\\\\\\\\

Bee was walking home from school. Lennox and Ironhide were hunting down Decepticons in Europe, so he didn’t really have a ride today, which was fine. He didn’t mind not going back to the house when Lennox or Ironhide wasn’t there. It’s not that Bee didn’t like Sarah or Annabell, but they just didn’t really get each other. Annabell tried to poke at every nerve Bumblebee had, just testing his patience. And Sarah either babied him too much or acted as if he should already know how to do some complex human thing.

And then there was school. Apparently, Sarah was right about his name. Though Bee still didn’t understand how a girl in his class can be named ‘jasmine’ after a flower, but to be called after the insect that lets that flower grow and flourish… that’s taking it too weird? Not to mention no one in the institute knows morse code, and only a few, including his teacher know sign language. The school said they’d set him up with an interpreter. That has yet to be seen.

“Oh, hey, you’re Honey Bee, right?” Bumblebee jumped as a boy his physical age tapped him on the shoulder. Bee pulled out a small keyring of flash card that said common phrases to help him interact with people who couldn’t understand his other forms of communications. He tapped on the one with his actual name on it. “Oh, well I’m Raven.”

Bee made a saluting gesture; instead of his hand being horizontal and pushed in front of him, his palm was vertical and facing out while his hand moved away to the side of his temple. Then, Bee finger-spelt the boy’s name. Raven looked at his hands with wide eyes.

“Woah, you really can’t speak, can you?” Raven asked. Bee let out angry trills, glaring at the boy. He started to walk faster, getting away from the human. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that!”

Bee chittered, turning around and raising an eyebrow. You have one chance.

“I just didn’t want to believe Harvey. He’s always making up things about other people. My mom says he’s a bully.” Raven rambled. Bee nodded in agreement. Harvey was a larger kid in his class who kept trying to pick fights and make fun of Bumblebee. Bee would hand the kid’s ass to him, but he was still an Autobots and harming humans was still a big ‘no’ in his books. “We should be friends. I see you like Voltron. My favorite is the red lion, but the yellow one is alright too.”

Bumblebee shrugged, not knowing what this ‘Voltron’ was, but decided not to try to confuse the other with too complex interactions. This is the most pleasant conversation he’s had since being forced to partake in the human learning institution.

Soon Raven had to split off to go to his own home, but made Bee promise to meet up tomorrow to walk to school. Bee felt lighter for some reason, almost like he wasn’t so alone. Annabell picked up on his good mood as soon as he entered the house. A toy sailed through the air and whacked him in the forehead.

“Hey, Bee.” She smiled.

“Annabell, stop throwing toys. Go sit in the corner.” Sarah gawked. This turned into a ten minute scream-cry feast in which Annabell was forced to spend time in the corner for longer than her original sentence. Bumblebee was already set up at the table by this point, pulling out his homework. “How was school, Bee?” The woman said as she signed the words.

‘Good, I meet a new friend. His name is Raven.’ Bee signed, his feet kicking in the open air under the table.

“Oh, that’s nice, what did you guys talk about?” Sarah leaned over the counter, ruffling Bee’s hair. He huffed and waved her hand away.

‘He kept talking about some lion-show called Voltage or something? Said I liked it too, but I don’t know why he would think that.’

“You mean Voltron? Your bookbag is designed to look like one of the characters on the show. He probably thought you got the bag because you liked the show, not because it was yellow and black.” She explained, lifting up the bag in question. On the back in vinyl letters did read ‘Voltron’. “We could watch it. So you know what your friend is talking about.”

Bee shrugged at this. He’s tried to watch human entertainment, but nothing really caught his interest. Well, he’s only really seen whatever the Witwicky’s watched, and that was just through their living room window as he was parked in their driveway. Recently, Annabell has been making him watch her shows, which were all about learning numbers, colors, and being nice. At least she has her numbers and colors down.

“Yeah, it can be our thing, when you’re done with your homework we can watch a few episodes.” Sarah nodded to herself.

Annabell was returned from her sentencing. She shuffled up to Bumblebee, holding out the wooden block that she had thrown at him earlier.

“M’sorry, Bee.” She toed at the ground and gave him large puppy dog eyes. Bee huffed and took the block from her. He’s learned pretty fast to accept her peace offerings or have her throw another tantrum.

‘Yeah, I’m sure you are.’ Bee signed back. Annabell jumped around to her mom.

“Mom, what did he say?” Sarah shook her head at the young autobot. “He said, ‘apology accepted’.”

It didn’t take long to finish the easy equations or sentence structures his teachers assigned for his class. As soon as he put his work back into his bag, Sarah ushered him onto the couch and turned on their television.

“Get comfortable, sweetie, the first episode is the longest.” Bee wrapped himself in the yellow blanket that he’s since claimed as his own. As the episode went on, Bee found himself drawing parallels of his own life and the autobots to those of these characters. He was so immersed into this stupid cartoon that he didn’t even notice that Lennox had arrived and sat down next to his wife. Not until the episode was paused.

‘HEY!’ Bumblebee turned to Sarah, jumping a little when Lennox was also there.

“Hey to you too, kid.” Lennox said, his voice thick and his face contorted into worry. Bumblebee sat up.

‘Is Ironhide okay?’ Bee signed, trying to twist out of his cocoon to get a better look outside for the mech.

“He’s fine, Bee. But I do have some bad news. The Decepticons found the base. The Autobots had to be relocated and for your safety, we might not be getting their new location.”

‘But what about Ironhide? He still needs Energon to function. How will I find them once we’ve figured out how to change me back?’ Bee asked.

“They don’t think there’s a cure for you, Bee. Optimus thought it best to cut ties. Don’t worry about Ironhide. We’re still going to get shipments of Energon for him.” Lennox pulled Bee into his chest. Bee didn’t have room to sign his frustrations, but he also didn’t have energy to fight off his prison of warm arms. Instead he let Lennox’s voice swirl around his own thoughts that wanted to drown him.

_______________

Bee slipped out of the house. The moon, street lamps, and his blinking shoe steps were his only light to navigate out of the neighborhood and try to find his way back to Optimus. The mech might not want him, but that was where he belonged, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

It wasn’t the first time that he realized that walking was much more time consuming than driving. This was just another time that the notion ingrained itself into his head. This was the first time Bumblebee found himself walking for a long time after sunset. It seemed to take longer in the dark. It took so much longer to reach the school than it usually does.

Maybe it wasn’t the darkness of night that had Bumblebee shuffling his feet. Maybe it was the thought of seeing Optimus and the others after a month of not seeing them. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was in direct opposition of Optimus’s orders. This is the most rebellious he’s been in a long time. Bumblebee finds his feet stopping. He looks around and realizes he’s walked himself all the way just a house past Sam’s. The chill has already settled into his skin, but he’s just noticed his minutely shivers. His teeth are chattering, and he feels tired seeping into the very marrow of his human bones. His feet and legs ache. It must have been half the night gone by now.

A rumbling sound brings the rest of the world back into focus. Cars race towards him, screeching to a halt and boxing him in. At first he thinks its normal bad humans, until he recognizes the cars and notices the Decepticons’ insignias.

“I don’t get it.” Starscream’s voice is audible from his vehicular mode. “There is but a human child where the signal emits. No energon, no Autobots. Nothing.”

Bumblebee’s heart spikes. He backs away from Megatron’s right-hand. The other ‘Cons have switched back to their natural state. They leer down at Bumblebee. One even tries to grab at him. He rolls to the side, and books it for a crack in their formation. Breakdown snagged Bee’s leg, scooping him upside-down, before he could make it. Bee kept hissing and sputtering at the Cons, but they weren’t intimidated.

“It appears, Starscream, that the boy is the origin of the signal. Maybe Knockout’s weapon wasn’t as defective as we had first thought. This human child does have a striking resemblance to their mute scout.” Breakdown muses.

Bee lets out sharp whistles, hoping the sleeping humans around them will awaken, but its almost no use. His vision starts to blur as the Cons start moving away. He doesn’t know what to do. He starts pushing against the metal fist around his leg, but with each shove the only result is his palms getting hotter.

Bumblebee can feel in his gut that Breakdown is about to shift. He can hear the t-cog clicking its gears in the split second preparation of turning into the alt mode. Bee panics, pulling his arm as far back as he could and smacking hard onto Breakdown’s grip. Instead of being halted by the warm living metal, his hand pushed in with no resistance. A shot of blue energy cut a path from his hand to the open sky. Breakdown drops Bee on the ground in surprise. Bee is able to twist himself to land on his back rather than just his head. He ignores the searing pain of smacking into the asphalt and scrambles away from his capture. The other Cons make a quick double-back, but not before Bee is on his feet. His palms and fingers tingle from the heat, but are unharmed from the powerful blast-ray. Cons surround him. He pulls his arm back and lets out another blast, sweeping his arm in an arc and taking out a line of the enemies, and also some of the residential appliances.

“Bee?” It’s Sam’s voice as he scampers out of his house in a shirt and boxers. “Where’s Lennox? Why are you here?” Bee doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. He sidesteps a blast from the Cons. Its not enough, Bee is grabbed again. His arms are pinned to his side in Starscream’s hand.

“I’ve got him, retreat.” Starscream proclaimed, ignoring Bee’s chitters and Sam’s shouts. A ground bridge was opened a few feet away. Starscream watched his men walk into the portal before turning to Sam with a viscous grin. “Till the next time, Witwick-”

Bee was once again hitting the ground. His back is singing and his ears are ringing from the gunshot. His vision is blurry, but he can still make out Mikaela cocking back a rifle as Sam ran to him. Sam carefully moved Bee away from the Decepticon, who was clutching his shot-up hand. There was a moment where it looked like Starscream was going to exact revenge. Luckily the portal behind him started to close and if he wanted a ride back home he couldn’t fight the humans. Everyone sighed with relief until they looked down at Bee.

The worried shouts of his friends were cut short as Bee’s small body finally gave it quits and fell asleep.

#bumblebee #transformers #human bumblebee #william lennox

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