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zenonaa · 3 years

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'The smart thing would have been for Touko to retire to her room. Anyone could wear the mask of a handsome man, even a monster. Instead, she found herself following him, spurred on by her own curiosity, not only about what he offered to tell her but why he wanted to tell her something potentially so important. As she walked, she felt extra conscious of the holster of scissors hugging her thigh. Throughout her life, she had met many monsters that wore fake faces, but with Byakuya, she felt sure he didn’t wield a mask hiding his true self.

It was a gut instinct. No. Not gut. Her heart told her this.'

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya Additional Tags: Togafuka Week, talent swap Summary: Talent Swap AU! Togami and Fukawa bump into each other and discuss what motive Monobear would need to provide to push them to murder. Also there may or may not be smooching.

Comments: A (late) Day 5 for TogaFuka Week - Swap! Takes place in the universe from this fic I wrote in 2016. When I was a more optimistic Livi, I wanted to write a multichapter fic for this talent swap.

💗 Please like, share and comment if you enjoyed it! 💗

***

Ten students remained.

As Touko Fukawa sat at her desk, twirling a pen between her fingers, she passed over their corpses. She stepped over Yasuhiro and Kiyotaka. Skipped around Hifumi and Chihiro. Hopped across Sakura and Celes. Of course, she wasn’t really maneuvering around them. Her dorm obtained no bodies. In reality, they were tucked away wherever Monobear dragged them to once it had finished with them. What had been described was figurative, as could be found in a passage from a literary novel.

Not that Touko was a published author. The title of Super High School Level Writer belonged to her classmate, Byakuya Togami. Touko Fukawa was the Super High School Level Heir, not that her title was anything to scoff at. Already she had earned billions of yen, and she had survived more attempts on her life than anyone else here. Except perhaps Sakura, the Super High School Level Soldier. But she was dead so she didn’t count.

Other than Sakura, Kyouko was also likely to have fought off death, and Touko wondered whether the Fighter had participated in any deadly battles. Whether she had inflicted such pain onto others. Whether she had ever murdered an opponent before arriving at this school.

Touko had. Killed people.

Not in the way her alter had, puncturing the veins and lungs of corrupt businessmen, of perverts, of half-siblings, always with scissors, always with a signature written in the victim’s blood nearby. No, Touko didn’t need to do that. With victims working for other corporations, she struck them bankrupt. In her conglomerate, she confiscated jobs, leaving victims to drown in their desperation as they tried to stay afloat. She exposed fraud, blackmail attempts, human trafficking, and with nowhere for her victims’ darkness to hide, they withered in the light.

Memories dug into her skin like termites. Tasting bile, she looked up from her desk. The walls of her room lurched toward Touko before reeling back into place. If she stayed here any longer, the room would close its jaws and crush her to pieces. She stood up, her chair shunting backward with a grunt, and marched to the door.

Ahead of her lay a silent corridor. Most of the others were probably sleeping by this time. Touko stayed on guard as she wrapped her arms around herself and started plodding along with no particular destination in mind. The cafeteria would be shut, so she couldn’t acquire a cup of tea to try to soothe her jittering nerves from there. While she had glimpsed a box of teabags in the storage room a few days ago while searching for some towels, she still had no way to heat them up.

Then she remembered she had also spotted some chocolate in there, and chocolate was supposed to be able to help calm a person down. That was better than nothing.

Touko quickened her pace, moving with more purpose now. Maybe she was being reckless. Six of them had been slain and another motive dangled over their heads. Someone would surely attempt murder for what Monobear had on offer. Not her, but someone else would. All Touko had to do was ensure she wasn’t the victim.

By the time she entered the storage room, she hadn’t seen Monobear nor any other students. The idea of returning to her room, where the only sounds would be her own thoughts, made her stomach roll, so she decided to eat her chocolate in the library. Reading about another’s life ought to distract her from her own. Grabbing two bars, she left, and she soon arrived at the library. She managed a few paces forward before she heard rustling, turning her blood to ice, freezing her, rendering her immobile.

Moments later, Byakuya Togami emerged from behind a bookcase. His presence in the library wasn’t shocking in and of itself. He was the Super High School Level Writer and an avid reader. Touko just hadn’t expected him to be here so late. Though she had seen him here during the evenings, she usually stayed in her room after the nighttime announcement so never saw him in here after that. She would have thought he would have kept to his room at this hour, especially when one took into account the latest motive to murder.

“Which one are you?” he asked her. When she entered, she hadn’t made much noise - at least, she thought she hadn’t, but Byakuya seemed to have homed in on her as soon as she came in. “The abhorrent admirer, or the creepy loner girl?”

“I’m Touko Fukawa,” she replied.

“The latter then.”

She stayed where she was, and he stayed where he was.

“Have you come to murder me?” he asked. “Or is this just a regular stalker with a crush behaviour?”

Touko squeaked and shook her head. Her cheeks burned. “I... I came here to read, that’s all.”

“You’re rather jittery. Does my presence unsettle you? Do you believe that I intend to murder you?”

A gasp cracked in her throat. He sighed and pushed up his glasses.

“Compose yourself. I will not harm you right now. I intend to be the last man standing. The survivor who confronts and defeats the monster at the end.” Byakuya’s brow furrowed, his face darkening. “I refuse to yield to the pressure that Monobear tries to inflict on us.”

“... is that it?” Touko asked, her voice a pinprick. “You don’t plan on murdering anyone because two students will be allowed to leave? It ruins your envisioned ending?”

That was the motive. For the next murder, if the perpentrator was not voted out in their victim’s trial, they were allowed to choose another student to graduate with them.

“Not quite. I couldn’t care less if another escaped with me.” The bitter twist of his lips morphed into a smirk. “It’s simply too early for this to end. The plot has barely reached the halfway point.”

Even with such a wicked expression, he was still handsome. Touko’s heart raced watching him. By now, the chocolate bars in her hands had crumbled from the pressure of her fists. Not that it mattered, because her insides were writhing too much for her to keep any food down. She shifted her weight between feet.

“You don’t have to believe me,” he told her. He cocked his head to one side, his gaze as sharp as a knife. “I do wonder about you, though.”

“Even if I wanted to kill anyone, I couldn’t,” she said. “Everyone knows about my alter, so I would be the first person to be heavily scrutinised and suspected.”

His stare embedded deeper.

“Still. I must be on my guard. Your alter may wish to seek revenge on me for revealing her identity,” said Byakuya.

Touko hunched her shoulders. She should have hated Byakuya for announcing her secret in the last trial, even if the alternative was being framed by Hifumi and dying. After all, when a person shoved another out of a window on the top floor of a blazing building, the fall still left bruises.

And yet the sight of him still filled her chest with butterflies.

“My alter wants to survive as much as any of us,” said Touko.

“None of the motives so far seem to have impelled either of us to murder,” remarked Byakuya. “Not money... not the paranoia of another owning one of our secrets... not being forced to sleep in the same room, in the same clothes, and abide by the same rigid routine everyday.”

He trailed off. She didn’t offer a word to the silence, waiting to see what he was getting at, if anything.

“Tell me, what would drive you to murder?” he asked her.

“I told you - ”

“ - that you’re always going to be a suspect because of Genocider Syo,” he interrupted with a flap of his hand. “You already said. But is there nothing that Monobear can do to force your hand?”

Touko edged back a step, eyeing him. She found it hard to tell if the fluttering inside of her was still attraction, or fear. “What are you? The m-mastermind?”

He smirked. “That would be a twist, but no. Curiosity.”

“There is nothing that Monobear could offer me,” she said firmly, even if her legs were trembling. To counteract that, she clenched her legs together and further mutilated the chocolate bars in her tightening fists. “What about you? What would push you to murder?”

The glimmer in his eyes disappeared as he glanced away. “This isn’t the best location to discuss this. Monobear may be listening in.” He returned his gaze to her. “How about we continue this conversation elsewhere? The locker room by the baths will provide sufficient privacy.”

She was still processing his offer when he strode toward her. She stiffened. Didn’t breathe. He paused next to her.

“You may stay here, or hurry back to your room if you desire,” he said. “Should you wish to indulge me in more conversation, however, you know where I will be. I shall be there for the next hour, with an answer to your question.”

Touko stood motionlessly as she listened to Byakuya’s receding footsteps. The smart thing would have been for Touko to retire to her room. Anyone could wear the mask of a handsome man, even a monster. Instead, she found herself following him, spurred on by her own curiosity, not only about what he offered to tell her but why he wanted to tell her something potentially so important. As she walked, she felt extra conscious of the holster of scissors hugging her thigh. Throughout her life, she had met many monsters that wore fake faces, but with Byakuya, she felt sure he didn’t wield a mask hiding his true self.

It was a gut instinct. No. Not gut. Her heart told her this.

They arrived at the locker room together, slipping past the noren curtain.

“So what about you?” asked Touko once both were well inside. She had thrown away the chocolates on the way there and could now fidget her hands together. “What could convince you to deviate from your plot outline?”

He was already standing near Touko, but he took a step toward her, approaching like the swell of an oncoming wave.

“Perhaps,” he said, dragging up his glasses, then hers, “a love interest.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Byakuya dipped his head, drawing closer and closer. Touko could have pushed him away. Kicked him between the legs. But she didn’t. She didn’t want to. As their lips pressed together, and his hands rested against her upper arms, her heels creaked away from the ground and her hands latched onto his waist.

Byakuya withdrew first. Touko wobbled for a moment, feeling light-headed. Even though he had initiated the kiss, she still expected him to grimace and swipe the back of his hand across his mouth. He scraped his teeth lightly against his lips, wetting them. Tasting. Then he made eye contact again.

“Hm? Are you suffering from post-kiss catatonia?” he asked. She stirred, the fog in her head not yet fully cleared.

“I’m s-surprised.”

“That is what is known as a test kiss.”

Touko squinted. “Test kiss?”

“It’s a trope that means... I am testing to see if you would partner with me in murdering one of our classmates.”

Her head jerked back. “W-What?”

He held out his hand toward her.

“Would you commit murder with me, Touko Fukawa?” he asked like a marriage proposal. Touko’s eyes flickered.

“I...”

She didn’t finish her sentence. His fingers curled into his hand before retreating, coming to rest on his hip.

“It doesn’t matter. As I told you, I have no intention of murdering yet. This was really a test to see if you could be recruited for murder. Though as you have said, due to your alter, you are by default a prime suspect.”

A test. There was always some kind of catch. Touko nodded, gazing down at her feet. She should have hated him.

“That’s all,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

The room hummed.

“Goodbye, Fukawa,” he said. “Go to your room now.”

Touko turned away and trudged out. With her back to him, she didn’t see him bring his hand to his lips, not to wipe his mouth, but as if he could still feel the kiss lingering.

She should have hated him.

And yet... she was smiling as bright as a butterfly.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #toko fukawa #fanfiction #one shot #togafukaweek

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petri808 · 3 years

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag AU

As Inuyasha and Kagome cut through a park on their way back to the Higurashi home, they chatted casually, just winding down after a hearty lunch at a nearby cafe. The couple stayed to the pathways traversing the manicured park. It would be shorter to cut through the grass, but why the rush? It was a beautiful location, with a several different kinds of trees dotting the landscape to provide shade and lots of open space for all kinds of activities. Some picnicked, flew kites or played frisbee, they’d even passed a group doing Tai Chi. There were young families to older citizens enjoying the scenery. The couples conjoined hands and twined fingers swayed lazily back and forth between them. Despite the summer heat starting to rise in Tokyo, with blue skies and a gentle breeze brought in from the Pacific Ocean, it was a perfect day for a stroll.

While this journey towards normalcy hasn’t always been an easy one, the past couple of months have been the happiest so far. Ever since leaving the hospital Kagome’s felt better and better. There were even moments she’d made peace with the idea she may not regain her memories. Was it saddening yes, because she wouldn’t remember her job, friends, and other precious moments. But at the same time, she could always make new ones. Sango’s twins were still young. She could relearn her job, and best of all she had Inuyasha who’d she’d become attached to. Their steadily growing relationship was a budding romance regardless of their past history. Think about? Kagome had a chance to re-experience everything in a new way, through a new lens. Well… that’s what she told herself to justify the idea, and so far, it was working.

But there were strange moments starting to occur. Sometimes they were dreams of scenes Kagome didn’t recognize. That in of itself weren’t unusual because how often do dreams ever make complete sense? No, it was in the emotions that came with them. On several occasions Kagome would wake up with the distinct feeling these were not merely dreams but memories trying to break through. At other times, she couldn’t remember the dream, only the emotions she’d felt during them. Sometimes they were so intense, she’d wake up in tears or completely happy for no other reason. According to her neurologist, this was normal during the healing process, but unfortunately there was no true way to tell the difference between reality and fantasy.

“Did I tell you I reached out to Ms. Tanaka the other day?” Kagome asked Inuyasha.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“I called the office and spoke to her briefly about maybe getting lunch one day so she could tell me how things have been there. I may not know exactly what she’s talking about, but maybe it’ll jog my memories.”

Inuyasha lifted their conjoined hands and kissed the back of hers. “I think that’s a really good idea. You guys will have fun talking.”

“I think so too, she seemed very nic—…” Kagome’s voice trailed away as stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes shifted towards one of the parks trees. “Um, c-could we check out that tree?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” Inuyasha smiled knowingly.

It was like her feet gained a mind of their own as they carried her towards a large Sakura tree in the middle of a field. Just from looking at, there wasn’t anything special about the tree. Spring had long since passed and the blooms were no more. But Kagome felt a pull towards this one in particular as if she remembered something about it. What that was she had no idea. She let go of Inuyasha’s hand and reached out, touching the bark of the tree, and staring up at its massive girth. It looked old. Maybe there long before the park existed… maybe older than even the Edo period, who knew? It was just another green leafed tree, yet why was it stirring up a rush of emotions? Happy ones with butterflies dancing in her soul.

Slowly, she moved around the base of the tree like a surveyor mapping it out or searching for secrets only it could provide. And that’s when she saw it. Kagome’s breathing hitched as her eyes fell upon a carving in the wood, approximately five feet above the ground. There, a bit worn nonetheless was a heart encircling two names. “Kagome…” She read aloud, “& Inuyasha—

Oh, my Kami!” She gasped, both hands flying up to cover her mouth in shock. “H-How? When?”

At that moment, Inuyasha walked over, gazing at the words and running his hand over the carving while he spoke. “We carved this about two years ago.” He smiled, eyes crinkling, and growing moist as if reminiscing. “It was a late Saturday afternoon and after eating an early dinner at Genki Sukiyaki, we cut through this park to get to your house. But it started to rain, not very heavy, so we took shelter under this tree.” Inuyasha chuckled lightly. “I remember you being upset about your hair getting wet.” He finally looked to Kagome, placing a hand on her cheek. “You looked so beautiful and even though the weather was miserable, there was just something magical about it all. That’s when you asked me to carve this into the tree.”

“But how did I know to look for it?” Kagome was so confused. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“I have no idea how. But part of you must. Maybe, it’s a sign your memories are fighting to come through.”

The tears gathering in Kagome’s eyes, trickle down her cheeks as a blend of happiness and sadness. She wanted to be happy for such a beautiful memory but devastated that she couldn’t remember it. She wanted to be excited that maybe, just maybe it could be true that her memories were returning, yet she didn’t want to take the chance of a let-down. Inuyasha pulled her into a tight hug as she let go of the angsty emotions. “It’s not fair that I can’t remember! I want to remember!”

“Shhh,” Inuyasha who’s own tears begun to spill, did his best to soothe her with softened tones. “I want that too. It’s gonna get better baby. I think this really is your memories returning, we just have to believe.”

“It’s hard to do that sometimes…”

Inuyasha lifted her chin and swept his thumbs over her cheeks to dry them. “And if you don’t, we’re creating a whole new memory of this tree right now, an even more special one.”

Kagome sniffled. “You think so?”

He nodded his head and placed a gentle kiss on her whetted lips. “What do you think?” Inuyasha questioned with a soft smile. “How can we add to this memory?”

Kagome paused for a moment in thought. “We could add something beneath our names… like… mmm, forever in time?”

“Is that what you want?” She nodded yes. “Okay,” Inuyasha obliged.

He kissed her again then used his claw to slowly, meticulously carve the new words into the bark. It took a few minutes because he wanted to make sure it was easy to read and would last a long time. “I think this is definitely will better than the original memory.”

“Mmhmm, it’s a good one,” Kagome agreed. She felt a lot better now. “Thank you, Inuyasha for being so patient with me. It must be so frustrating.”

Inuyasha shook his head. “Not anymore. I’m not glad about the accident, but I’m cherishing all this time I’m spending with you. Kagome, I truly mean it when I say, this moment right here,” he took her hand. “It’s now one of the happiest moments you’ve ever given me. No matter what,” he smiled, “I’ll always love you, forever in time.”

She giggled. “Forever… I like the sound of that…”

After the incident at the park, Kagome brought it up with the neuropsychologist assigned to her case. The woman patiently sat in her chair as Kagome told her every little detail. What she felt, the emotions, her thoughts, and reactions. She also brought up the dreams she’d been having as well as small incidents that caused her to feel like it might be memories trying to come through.

“Like, just the other day,” Kagome explained. “Sango accompanied me to the hospital for my last physical check-up, but as we passed by the nursery, we decided to stop to look at the cute babies. Then out of nowhere I started to feel emotional, nothing bad, just happy as she talked about the birth of her twins. I mean, yeah it makes sense to feel happy at the time because we were having a good time, but it just felt different. I almost felt like crying. Why is that??”

The woman finished jotting down her notes before speaking. “It’s been about 5 months, correct, since you lost your memories?” Kagome nodded yes. “And according to your latest evaluations, your brain has healed quite nicely. It’s not uncommon at this point for triggers to manifest themselves.”

“I don’t understand…”

“The way long term memory retention works, our brains must process information and create new neurocircuitry, storage if you will once the information has been deemed necessary to keep in the long term. If not, our short term memories are discarded quickly. Of course, this is just a basic explanation and there’s more to it, but what studies have found is memories attached to an emotional event have a higher likelihood of being retained and will evoke a stronger response from us. Think of it like, these emotional memories are much more deeply attached to our psyches.”

“Oh— I think I understand.”

“Mmm,” the doctor hummed. “The park incident was attached to a very emotional moment in your life. So even though you couldn’t remember the event itself, the part of you that remembered the emotions surrounding it did and pushed you towards the tree. Also, the hospital, you mentioned being with your friend Sango and looking at babies. This is just a guess, but perhaps you were feeling the emotions you felt from the time she gave birth.”

As the doctors words were processed, moisture began to pool in Kagome’s eyes. Could it really be true?! Should she really allow herself to hope?! When Kagome finally responded, her voice cracked as it held back the tears. “D-Does this mean… I’m starting to get my memories back?”

“I would say, yes. Again, I cannot say one hundred percent certain, but what you are experiencing is a common one. Those that suffered from acute memory loss, don’t just wake up one day and suddenly they’ve all returned. It’s a gradual process, but once it begins it typically continues at a steady pace.”

“I-I don’t know what to say!” A few happy tears joined the smile on Kagome’s face.

“I suggest that you start writing down the times you feel something or think you’re remembering something and check them with your family and friends. If they confirm it, talk about it. That could help as well to bring more information and memories to the forefront— give your brain a little help to jog itself.”

“Thank you so much, doctor! I’ll definitely do that!”

The woman smiled, reaching over to pat Kagome’s hand before giving it a small squeeze. “You’re very welcome. I wish you all the luck in the world!”

#inukag #inuyasha #inukag au #kagome higurashi #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #inuyasha x kagome #missing memories #ch 8 #petri808

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wickedobsessed101 · 3 years

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Fanfic Writer Asks

[SOURCE: criminal-minds-fanfiction: Most of the writer ask posts I come across are only like ten or so questions long so I thought I’d try to make a longer one because we like talking about our writing! Feel free to reblog!]

I’m answering all of these b/c I love Q & A’s about my writing, both for my fics and other things.

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? It was 2013, so I was 14 years old. I’m now almost 23.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? I’m mostly in the Wicked Musical fandom, but I like to read for other fandoms, like Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Chronicles of Narnia, ect.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer. OCs, but I’m more than willing to create an OC for someone based on characteristics they give me.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for? I love me some fluffy romance and hurt/comfort, but I also love some angsty drama.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi-chaptered stories, which would it be and why? OMG, don’t make me choose! They’re all my babies! I love all my children equally! They all hold special places in my heart.

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why? Goodness, most of my stories prior to 2017, because I was in high school and had no idea what I was doing because I was just getting my feet wet with writing.

7) When is your preferred time to write? Anytime really. The latest I’ve stayed up writing a fic was 4AM. *Glares at ‘Threads of Truth’*

8) Where do you take your inspiration from? Where ever it happens to come up. I’m not picky. Movies, music, people I’ve seen on the street, random thoughts that enter my head, anything.

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote? In ‘Threads of Truth’, it’s a tie between Villy’s first date, and an argument that happens in an upcoming chapter. And that’s all I’m saying about that.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? In ‘Play The Game’, I liked the epilogue ending that I gave Elphaba with her family, even without Fiyero. I like writing her with kids. Another ending would be with the Fiyeraba still together, but I’m satisfied with the ending it has.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it? I’ll go back and fix typos that are pointed out, but I don’t change plot stuff. Like, I wrote what I wrote and I will amend my technique in future stories.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why? Other than my OCs, because I get to fully create them and my lowkey babies, I’d have to say G(a)linda. She has so much potential and she’s so much fun.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why? Boq. Not because I hate him (I don’t!), but because I don’t normally know what to do with him. If he’s not with Nessa, he’s literally just standing there like a brick wall. No offence, Boq!

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories. [Ask me about a specific story(ies)]

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names? I usually change consonants and vowels to already existing names, or add unnecessary letters because... reasons.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx? [Ask me about a specific story]

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on. “Hopefully, this will soak up any more leaks.” (Upcoming Wicked fanfic)

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? Yes, 2. Both of them are a few years old and I’ve grown as a writer since then. Maybe one day, I’ll edit them and repost, but not anytime soon.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to? Not everything can have a sequel, y’all! XD

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently? Yes! Around 60% of them.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire? @vinkunwildflowerqueen @raven-curls @mylittleelphie @weaselspeedfanfic Ultimate Queen of Cliffies

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it? This goes back to Question #6; most of what I posted prior to 2017.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? Silence. I need to focus.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes? I can’t write it. They’ll make out, and then be pregnant in the next chapter. Y’all can do the math for yourselves.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story? YES! Yes, I have! Both sad tears and tears of joy. I’ve also cringed from second-hand embarrassment at the things the characters do and say. I’m not in control of their actions all the time. Sometimes they tell me what they’re gonna do, and I’m like, “Well, alright, then.”

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write? [Ask me about a specific story]

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? I write bullet points of things I want to happen in a chapter on the Word Doc, or in the story as a whole, and I try to keep those bullet points in order. And the Notes App on my phone holds a lot of my ideas, and sometimes full scenes.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction? That I’d become obsessed with writing and continue doing it for almost ten years, as well as expanding to writing plays and musicals.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like? Yeah. I’m not gonna say which one, but just know there’s one... or a few.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? Yes, and I’m still not gonna say which one(s). I want all the love!

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec, not the answerer) Yeah, sure!

32) Are any of your characters based on real people? Yes. Villy Doiir from ‘Threads of Truth’ is based on 4 people I know in real life, all mixed together into one wholesome, mother figure/ mentor. Perhaps that’s why I like writing her so much.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? All reviews keep me going, no matter the length. But I love it when people review saying that they picked up on little references that were really just for me. It makes me feel like we’ve shared a moment.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten? A guest reviewer once said, “You tend to write Fiyero as an abusive person”. It wasn’t harsh, just... NOT TRUE. Especially for the story they were reviewing.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest? Close to my chest. I’ll share it with the world when I’m ready.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s? NOPE! You’ll just have to wait and see! LOL!

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written? I... really don’t know. My stories all have their funny moments.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it. I’m very busy, and collabs aren’t really my thing, but I’m always willing to lend an extra pair of eyes pre-posting.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? I’ve written one story in the first person and it was fun to get into the character’s head, but I love third person, cause I like knowing what everyone is thinking. Second person makes me feel a certain way and that don’t really like.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? IRL, no. It’s not something I bring up over dinner. I’ll talk about my plays and musicals, but not fanfiction. I like keeping my fics for the online peeps and my more personal writings for the RL peeps.

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written? My OC, Princess Hannalyn, from ‘A Royal Romance’. She was so much fun!

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx. I haven’t done a song fic.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it? Not fully, but they’ve had little inklings, but certain details were still a surprise. And I’m not mad about it.

44) What is the last line you wrote? “I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process? When I’ll have one idea, and it spirals into many others, and when the characters write themselves. It makes it so much easier for me. Sometimes they tell me that they’re about to make a bad decision, and I just go along with it. They need to learn and grow somehow.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it? [Ask me for a specific story]

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about? [Ask me]

48) What’s your favourite trope to write? I love a good Royalty AU (not fully AU ‘cause of our princey-prince, but still) and Holiday AUs. And I’ve never written a Coffeeshop AU, but I LOVE reading them. I’ll read anything. I’m not picky, and I love to see what ideas others have.

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about? Yes, and both of them were Gelphies: 1 - “Easier Said Than Done” by mecelphie - It’s part of a long, wonderful series of Elphaba and Glinda together at Shiz and how their lives evolve together and has many lovable OCs. 2 - “The Thropp Diaries” by denpa wave chick saki - It’s first-person Elphaba POV of the book. It expands on lots of mentioned moments and we get to journey through Elphaba’s thoughts.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? I’d have to say fluff, so I can get my escape from reality. But it’s hard to write pure fluff without a little bit of conflict.

If you wanna read my stories, they’re all right here: Fae’sFlower

#wicked the musical #wicked #wicked fanfiction #fiyeraba fanfic #faesflower #Q & A #Fiyeraba #gelphie #Elphaba #Fiyero #Glinda #Galinda #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction.net #let me tell you about my writing and my stories #writer #Q & A with Nia

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kaiju-emperor · 4 years

Text

d’Artagan (Saber) Character Concept

(d’Artagan servant outfit. Art by @angelicvangaart Thank so much for this amazing work! Please go give them your support)

One of the central characters of Alexdre Dumas’s classic ‘The Three Musketeers’. d’Artagan was a young woman, who dreamt of being a musketeer and traveled to Paris. There, she met the titular Three Musketeers, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. The four would go on many adventures together, and d’artagan would come into her own as a great sword fighter.

d’Artagan takes the form of a woman in her mid twenties, with flowing locks of brown hair. Her usual attire is the leather armor and cape of her musketeer uniform. She wields a basket hilt rapier, a parrying dagger and flintlock pistol with deadly accuracy.

d’Artagan has an easygoing and ‘rougeish’ personality. She is ‘romantic’ in the classical sense of the word, having a deep sense of honor and manners. Her tongue, and wit are sharp, offering witty quips and jibes in and out of battle. However, she knows when the time for such things is over.

As a servant, d’Artagan is a master of the blade. She was more than likely one of the greatest swordmasters of her era. She strikes with precision, and finesse over brute force. Using diversion, positioning and superior skill to win over her opponents.

(Casual d’Artagan)

Parameters

Strength:C+

Endurance:B

Agility: A

Magic Power:C

Luck A+

Noble Phantasm:A

Skills

Charisma C+:Despite not being a leader, d’artagnan has a decently high charisma stat. Her personality is infectious and she has a way with words.

Riding B+: Like most musketeers d’Artagan was trained in the art of horsemanship. She even has some knowledge about sailing thanks to her travels

Magic Resistance B: Being a saber class servant, d’Artagan is granted a high level of magic resistance.

Noble Phantasms

Tous Pour Un: Musketeer’s Bond Rank B

A secondary noble phantasm to d’Artagan’s main one. Using this power, she can call on a phantom of one of the other musketeers. They infuse her with power, each one granting a different boon. Calling upon the power of Porthos, her Strength and Endurance stat increase, allowing her to clash with opponents physically stronger than herself. Calling upon Aramis grants her keen vision, and agility. It also summons Aramis’s trusty musket, which is a low ranked noble phantasm in and of itself. Finally, by calling upon Athos, the phantom of Athos will strike alongside d’Artagan, mirroring her moves, or defending her from harm. Allowing her incredible versatility in combat. As well as the ability to stand toe to toe with servants whose skill exceeded normal humans in life.

Un Pour Tous, Tous Pour Un: Oath Of The Musketeers Rank A

The full power and form of d’Artagan’s noble phantasm. It is a crystallization of her oath, and friendship with the other musketeers. A representation of their intertwined legend. By speaking the famous oath of the musketeers, d’Artagan creates a reality marble that is an image of the Palace Of Fontainebleau. Inside of the bounds of the reality marble, she summons the full forms of her three companions Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. All three of them are full servants in their own right and their parameters are on par with d’Artagan herself. As long as the reality marble is maintained, the four will fight together to defeat their enemy. It is here that the full power of the musketeers is seen. Within the space of the reality marble, things such as authority and divinity do not matter. All are equal within. Which allows the musketeers to harm divine beings despite not having divine weapons or divinity themselves.

FGO version

4* Saber

Deck

Passive Skills

Riding Rank B+:Increase Quick performance by 9%

Magic Resistance B: Increases own debuff resistance by 17.5%.

Active Skills

Charisma C+ : Increase attack party attack for 3 turns. from 8.5 to 17%

Un Pour Tous: Porthos: Increase own attack for 3 turns from 10-20% Apply Debuff Immune for 3 turns

Un Pour Tous:Aramis: Apply evade to self for two attacks. And apply sure hit to self and gain 10-15 crit stars.

Noble Phantasm

Un Pour Tous, Tous Pour Un: Oath Of The Musketeers Rank A, Type:Arts, Anti Unit

Deals 900-1500% damage to a single enemy that ignores defense. Overcharge Increase NP gain for 3 turns from 20-40% (activates first)

Dialogue

Summon

“I have answered your call, I d’Artagan shall be your sword and your shield. Hehe, sorry that was far too formal. Let me try again. I am d’Artagan, Saber class. *leans down to kiss your hand* “Enchante, My Lord/Lady. I hope my companions and I can serve you well.”

Level Up

“ Ah je me sens déjà plus fort!” (Translation:Ah. I feel stronger already)

Battle Start

En garde! Prêts? Allez! (Translation: On guard! Ready! Lets begin!)

Battle Start 2

All For One, And One For All! (Randomly said in French or English)

Attack 1

“Advance! Hah!”

Attack 2

“Attaque au Fer!”

Attack 3

“Doublé!”

Extra Attack

“Parry! Then...thrust!”

Hit By Noble Phantasm

“Gahhh I must...endure!”

Defeat

Ah! Tou...che.

First Skill Used

Transmettre mes amis! (Translation: Onward, my friends!)

Second Skill Used

Porthos! I need your strength!

Third Skill Used

Aramis! Grant me your speed!

Noble Phantasm Selected

“It is time, my friends!”

Noble Phantasm Used

“Let me show you, the strength of our bond, of our oath. The dream of our legend! All For One, And One For All! Athos! Porthos! Aramis! Fight by my side once more!”

My Room Lines

(If you have Jeanne d’Arc Ruler/Archer) “Mon dieu! Is that Jeanne d’Arc?! I was told stories of her as a child. It is such an honor to meet her in the flesh! She is truly as beautiful and radiant as I imagined.”

(If you have Chevalier d’Eon) “A fellow knight of France! It is a pleasure to meet someone who served the country as I did! To think that there would be future knights as lovely and cute as yourself! Hahaha! No need to blush!”

(if you have Marie Antoinette) *quickly bows* “I can tell just from your beauty and countenance that you are of royal blood. A future queen of France you say? So, I was right! I do seem to have a talent for reading resplendent beauties.”

(if you have Edmon Dantes) “That man... He has a dark aura about him. I feel the pain in his eyes. What must he have suffered to have such eyes?”

(if you have Astolfo) “I’ve been spending some time with Astolfo lately. They are quite the character. On the surface they seem quite strange and lack common sense. However, deep within they truly are worthy of being a paladin of the great Charlemagne”

During an Event

“It seems something exciting is happening out there, master. A festival perhaps? Let us go and see.”

Likes

“Things that I like? Hmmm. Wine, roses, books, and poetry. But the thing I love most, are women. Eh? That last one was obvious?”

Dislikes

“Dishonorable types. Backstabbers, traitors and the like. The worst types like that however, are the ones who make women cry.”

About the other musketeers.

“You want to hear about Porthos? Porthos was a boisterous man, always smiling. He had a hearty loud laugh. He was also a bit of a dandy. Always wanting to wear the latest fashions and look his best. I never knew a man who shined his boots more.”

“Aramis was a ladies man, through and through. Despite being highly religious he always seemed to find time for women. *sighs* More than once I caught him knocking boots with the nuns of various churches. But, despite all that, he was a good and stalwart friend, and he always respected when a woman was not interested in him.”

“Athos... Athos was... He was like a father to me. He was the one who taught me how to fight with a blade. I looked up to him, and loved him dearly. But, he was also a haunted man. I often found him drinking away his sorrows. Curse that Lady de Winter...”

Bond 1 “Good day to you my lord/lady. I hope you are doing well. I’m still trying to get used to this modern place. Its a lot to take in.”

Bond 2 “Walking among these halls of heroes, I feel like I’m back at the musketeer barracks again. Just without all the drills, haha!”

Bond 3: “I was not born a noble like the other musketeers. I was a simple farmer’s daughter. But I dreamed of being one despite all that. I remember arriving in Paris, my eyes wide with wonder, and head full of dreams. Ah, sorry, I’m rambling.”

Bond 4:”Hmm? You want to know more about my childhood? Well, there’s not much to tell. I was a farmer’s daughter, as I said. I grew up in the fields of France, milking cows, collecting eggs, milling grain and so on. It was a simple life. But I don’t think it was for me in the end.”

Bond 5(if male mc): “Master, I wish to offer my fealty again. You are my king, and I your loyal musketeer. You are truly a great and kind leader. I could not ask for a better lord to serve.”

Bond 5(if female mc): “Good day, my lady. I hope you’re well. I have something special planned for us today. I’ve arranged a rayshift to the rolling fields of France. A perfect place for a romantic picnic, oui?~ Shall we, my lady? There’s no need to be shy. Take my hand, ma petite fleur~”

Bond CE: “Note From The King”

Effect: “Party Quick, and Arts up by 10% “

“I remember that day. It was many years after my friends and I had drifted apart. I had been recognized for my accomplishments, despite my common birth. I was leading France’s forces against the United Provinces. During the Siege of Maastricht, I was reading a letter signed with the royal seal. I was to be made into ‘The Marshal Of France’ the highest honor I could ever hope to achieve. I can hear the ringing of the sudden gunshot that followed. The feeling of the musket ball piercing my chest... Blood leaked from lips and I felt my life ebbing. ‘Athos, Porthos, Aramis, adieu forever....’ “

#fate #fate series #fgo #fate grand order #the three musketeers #fate oc #servant oc

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apriumjam · 5 years

Text

Satsuten Cafe Drama CD Script

Once again, @jae-ha sent me the audio from @sodawithcereal for the final Satsuriku no Tenshi drama CD, the cafe AU. Here is the script! Keep a look out for the video she’ll be posting!

E: Now then, we’re all here again as usual, but the café is closed. To tell the truth, today is our day off. That’s because it’s December 23rd. In other words – it’s Christmas tomorrow!

D: Mmhmm, that’s right, Eddie.

E: So today we’re getting ready! It’s a bit troublesome, but we have to work hard this year too.

Z: And who the hell are ya talkin’ to, anyway?

E: Shut up, you savage! Eheheh. Have you gotten used to it, Rachel?

R: I’m…not really…

E: Oh, that’s right, that’s right. You just started working here. This is your first Christmas!

Z: Ah? Is the brat still yammerin’?

E: Hmph! Every Christmas, the café we work at, Angels of Death, hangs up many decorations and entertains the guests!

R: I see…

D: It’s a bit troublesome to us, but it’s the one special day of the year. We also end up having a lot of fun.

E: Every year, I make a special cake for Christmas. I have to show my skills as a genius patisserie!

Z: Oh, that’s right. The taste is good but the shape isn’t.

D: Hahah. Eddie’s cakes are always made to look like graves, after all. But I’m looking forward to it.

Z: Anyway, the old man ain’t here yet?

D: Come now, don’t call manager Gray an old man.

E: See, Rachel, every year Gray decides what the theme of the decorations and props will be. He said he would announce it today, but…

R: He might be later than usual.

D: Cathy isn’t here either, for some reason. I wonder what happened.

G: I’ve kept you waiting. My apologies.

R: Welcome back, manager Gray.

C: I’m here…

D: Welcome back. Oh my. What’s wrong, Cathy? You look quite down.

C: Doctor Danny, would you mind not bothering me?

D: Eh? What happened?

G: Ahem. Please listen.

E: You’re going to tell us about the decorations, right? Hey, hey, what sort of theme are we going with this time?

G: I’m sorry. I’ll make this short. This year’s Christmas celebration will be cancelled.

R: Cancelled…?

Z: Hah? Why, old man?

D: Hey, Zack. Manager Gray, what on earth does this mean?

G: Cathy.

C: Guh!

G: You take over from here.

C: Y-yes…I understand, manager.

G: Do you all remember the maid robot?

E: Oh, that piece of junk you brought in to the shop – it broke right away.

D: It was supposedly equipped with the latest AI technology. What about it?

G: Hmph. I knew nothing about this. So, Cathy, seeing as you ordered it, how about telling us how much it cost?

C: O-o-o…one…million yen...

E: EH?!

D: (coughing) Is that true, Cathy?

C: I wouldn’t lie about this right now.

Z: Uh…so how much is a million yen?

R: Zack-senpai, a million yen is a million yen.

G: I have no intention of critising Cathy any longer, but managing the café is a battle of money. It’s unfortunate, but it would appear we no longer have any left in the budget. In other words, we have nothing for the Christmas party.

E: How awful, Cathy! That robot ended up being completely useless!

C: Guh – ! How dare you! Be quiet, you brat. If I were to wash the dishes in winter, my hands would dry out! My beauty is what attracts customers to this shop in the first place – if my lovely hands got ruined, that would be even worse for the café.

Z: Who cares?! If yer not gonna move around, yer sleepin’ face is fine!

C: Excuse me?! Don’t screw with me, Zack! The robot broke because you kicked it around on the first day!

G: Come now, Cathy. How unsightly.

C: Ugh – I’m very sorry, manager Gray…

D: Well, it’s all in the past now. But Cathy…perhaps you should try to remedy your wasteful habits?

C: Guh…

E: Aww…I can’t make my new cake…

C: I’m sorry…

D: There’s nothing we can do. Let’s just operate the shop as normal this year.

R: Um, manager…

G: Hmm? What is it, Rachel?

R: Everyone was talking about Christmas. I think it’s definitely a very important day for everyone. I believe that we’re not the only ones who are looking forward to it – the customers are, too. So…

C: Rachel…

R: So…let’s try to do what we can, even without money.

E: Rachel!

D: That’s right. Yes, it’s as Rachel says.

Z: Hey, Ray. You’ve gotten pretty useful!

E: All right! Even with less money than normal, I’ll put all my feelings into my very own grave – I mean, cake, the only one in this world! Just watch, Rachel!

D: Yeah. I’ll do what I can, too. Eheheheh…Rachel…seeing those pretty eyes of yours…(creepy laughter) I feel myself getting inspired…(more creepy laughter)

C: I’ll try to get back that one million yen! And, Doctor Danny…please don’t show that face to the customers. It’s creepy.

Z: Well, I’ll do my part too. Let’s work hard together, Ray.

R: Okay.

(overlaying voices)

E: Ah –

Z: Hey, brat, I definitely –

C: One million yen is –

G: Heheh. I never expected the newcomer would save us. Perhaps she’s grown up a bit.

R: Let’s work together –

G: This may wind up being an especially extraordinary Christmas.

C: I have some orders! Two cakes, and a milk tea with a melon float! Doctor Danny! I’ll leave those customers to you.

D: All right, Cathy. Ah, since opening today, we’ve had an enormous number of guests today…Welcome! Before you decide on your order…heh…we have some eyeball jelly on the house. Please feel free to partake. (creepy laughter)

C: Like I said, Doctor Danny, please stop making that face.

Customer: Um, the decorations this year are more lively than usual, aren’t they?

D: Oh…did you notice? This year we decided to use our own personal belongings as the ornaments.

Customer 2: Oh…is that red ribbon attached to a syringe?

D: Hmm? Oh, that’s right…ahahah…

Customer: It’s kind of cute!

Customer 2: Yeah! It feels very original!

D: I-I’m so glad it suits your tastes…hahahah…Well then, once you have decided what to order, please call me. …Cathy, you’re not doing anything at all, are you? Well, the customers seem happy, so…

C: Oh, my! Thank you so much! Eddie! How are the cakes?

E: Just about ready! Now, for the final touch, I’ll put this on like this…yup! They’re done! Rachel, I’ll leave these to you.

R: Ah, yes. Hmm? They have my name written on them.

E: Heheh it’s a grave – I mean, a cake for you! Do you like it?

R: But…the customer is going to eat it…

E: It’s thanks to you that the café is so lively today. So I put all my gratitude into these cakes!

R: I see…

Z: Hey, brat, stop standin’ around! More orders are coming in. Three cakes!

E: Shut up! They’re ready, so just take them!

Z: Hah? Graves again. It just looks like Ray’s grave.

E: Stop complaining about every single little thing! It’s fine, isn’t it?!

Z: Tch…normally, I’d hit you, but today’s a special day, so I’ll let ya off.

R: Zack-senpai, that’s unusual.

Z: Ah? Maybe. I’m in a good mood today. It’s because of you, Ray.

R: Eh?

C: Rachel, the cakes are for this table.

R: Oh, okay. Two cakes. Thank you for waiting.

Customer 1: Thank you.

Customer 2: Excuse me, miss waitress…is that a scythe? A scythe wrapped in bandages?

R: Oh, that’s…I heard that is a Christmas tree.

Customer 2: Heh…the café seems more fun this year than usual!

R: Yes. Thank you very much.

D: Rachel, I’ll leave these customers to you.

R: Okay.

Z: Hey, Ray.

R: I have to work hard…I have to be useful…

Z: Hey, Ray!

R: Ah, Zack-senpai!

Z: I prolly don’t got the right t’ say this, but aren’t ya a bit too awkward?

R: Awkward?

Z: You should be a bit more honest, rely on people more. I think things’ll be better if ya do. The world is full of things we don’t understand. I didn’t even know about Christmas until recently.

R: Oh…you noticed…

Z: Huh? What’s that? Were ya tryin’ t’ hide it?

R: Well…my mother and father didn’t really get along…we didn’t celebrate Christmas at home…

Z: Oh…yer the same as me.

R: But, I thought Christmas seemed nice. So…even though I said all that, I didn’t really know what to do.

Z: Till comin’ to this café, I just wandered around town, ‘n I always thought people smilin’ around like idiots were damn annoying. But after starting to work here, I realised…spending time with people special to you, on special days like this, ain’t that bad. Eating good food, exchanging presents – I’m pretty much satisfied even without doing those things.

R: Presents…

Z: Huh? Oh, that’s right, ya never got a present, did ya, Ray?

R: No…

Z: That so…

R: I never had anyone to get one from, or to give one to…

Z: Hmm…

D: So you two were hiding in this corner. The last guest just left. The café is closed. Good work.

C: Ahh…I’m tired…now then. What were you two talking about? Sorry for interrupting~.

Z: Ah? I dunno what yer talkin’ about, but ya ain’t interruptin’.

R: To tell the truth…to tell the truth, I never –

(bang!)

R: Eh? This is…

D: Oh, sorry. I suppose you got surprised.

C: How stand-offish. You should have just discussed the Christmas preparations with us.

E: Sorry for not telling you. While we were making everything ready, we figured out that you didn’t know much about Christmas. So…eheheh…we made a party in secret! And of course, it’s for you!

Z: Well then, let’s have yer first Christmas!

R: I’m sorry I didn’t help with the party.

Z: This was supposed t’ surprise ya, there’d be no point if ya helped.

(everyone laughs)

G: Good job, everyone. Thanks to all your efforts, today was a good day. Now then, how about we start Rachel Gardner’s party?

E: Yay!

(indistinct)

R: Today was kind of fun. Coming home and thinking back on it makes it all seem like a dream. Everyone was smiling. Sometimes Danny-senpai’s smile was a little scary; and Eddie-senpai and Zack-senpai fought; and Cathy-san drank too much sake; and manager Gray’s speech was a little difficult, so I couldn’t understand all of it…but it was kind of fun spending time with everyone during the party. I took a shower, so I guess it’s time to sleep.

(time skip)

R: Christmas…it was too fun. I feel like I’ve just woken up. I don’t think I can sleep. Eh?

Z: Tch…what is it with this window? Why’s it so hard?

R: Is that…? Oh, no!

(window smash!)

Z: It finally opened. Tch. Where’s Ray’s sleeping? Oh, she really is asleep. ‘Cause yer not supposed t’ see Santa or somethin’, right? I’m kinda worried she didn’t wake up, ‘cause I made such a loud sound…Well, here. I’ll leave the present here. (yawns) Ah? It’s kinda late, I’m sleepy. I’ve got work at the café tomorrow, too. Guess I’ll go home’n’sleep.

R: I think he left. That’s no good, Zack-senpai. Santa Claus wouldn’t break a window with something like that. I wonder what’s inside. A Christmas present…I’m kind of happy. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.

#satsuriku no tenshi #satsuten #rachel gardner #isaac foster #edward mason #daniel dickens #catherine ward #abraham gray #drama cd #mine

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trbl-will-find-me · 7 years

Text

A Little Night Music (1/3)

Phantom of the Opera AU. (I should warn that this is probably not for Phantom purists. I’ve taken some liberties with plot and timeframe to better accommodate some plot and character bits. There’s also, you know, aliens. That being said, the Phantom plots is all here --- along with most of the XCOM cast, past and present. There is also a distinct lack of Phantom/Christine --- or their XCOM equivalents.)

[Washington, DC October, 1920]

She wakes in cold sweat, the memory of blue skin, flowing white hair, and horns like a ram still fresh in her mind.

Her eyes roam the room, as if expecting some intruder. Instead, she is greeted by the familiar sights of her armoire and dressing table, the pictures on the wall, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, the shadow of a dirigible projected on her bedspread. Next door, she can hear Lily puttering about, no doubt doing her best to reassemble her latest toy before the school day.

There is no phantom, she tells herself. It’s a superstition.

She washes her face and dresses for the day. She takes tea and breakfast with the Doctor and inquires after his work on the Elerium engine, before catching the first streetcar to the theatre.

“Heard we’re meeting the new owners today,” Jane says as they struggle into their costumes.

“Still can’t believe Volk is selling this place.”

“Come on, Elizabeth. He hasn’t been the same since the fall of the Czar.”

“He was born here!”

She shrugs. “When the old country won’t let you go, it won’t let you go.”

L’Assassina’s s high C ricochets through the corridor.

“She’ll be in rare form today,” Jane groans.

She shrugs. “When isn’t she?”

“Ladies! Gentlemen! Fools! Beggars! Before we begin today, I have introductions to make. As you know, I will soon take my leave of you, and of this theatre. But! I leave you in the most competent of hands.” He gestures with a flourish, and bows towards the man standing next to him, a broad, bald, hulking figure barely encased in his suit.

“I represent a council of investors who believe your institution holds significant cultural value,” the man says, never bothering to introduce himself, “and represents a significant stake in artistic relationships with the Others.”

“Grazie mille, Signor,” L’Assassina says, doing her best to affect a convincing Italian accent, and dropping into a deep curtsy.

Jane hides a snigger in Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“You’re inviting her wrath,” she whispers.

“Her wrath needs no invitation.”

“Herr Spokesman,” Frau Vahlen steps forward. “Welcome to our home. I bring you tidings from the Ghost. He instructs your council that box five is to be kept open for his use, and reminds them that his salary is due.”

“Your … ghost?”

“The Ghost. Did Herr Volk not inform you?”

Volk’s cheeks color.

“Ah, allow me to correct the oversight. This theatre is under the protection of … a spirit. We do as he asks, and he ensures the crowds are large and the reviews ebullient. This, in exchange for a small salary, and a private box.”

The Spokesman turns to Volk. “Is this true?”

“Of course it is,” Vahlen continues, as if the question had been posed to her. “Look around.”

“And what is this small salary?”

“Oh, about thirty-five-hundred. Though, with your investors, perhaps you can make it four thousand.”

“Frau Vahlen, I am not sure of your customs in this theatre, but we will not cave to the demands of an extortionist specter.”

“Very well, Herr Spokesman. But, he will not be pleased.”

She draws in a deep breath, and tries not to let the tension creep into her shoulders. It is the fourth time L’Assassina has put a hold on rehearsals to berate someone for something so inconsequential as to be unnoticeable even to the maestro.

“Da capo, per favore.”

She feels something sick and heavy pushing at the back of her mind. Everything slows and she struggles to think straight. She wants to scream at the sensation of something, someone, in her head with her. This is always the feeling she has the moment before it all goes ---

One of the backdrops crashes to the stage, narrowly missing the company’s pride and joy. It snaps her back to reality for a moment, before her focus is entirely fixed on trying to counter the nauseating loss of her own sense of self.

In the background, she can vaguely make out L’Assassina screaming at Volk and the Spokesman, spittle no doubt flying from her mouth. She feels as if she is being suffocated, the world starting to glow grey and purple at the edges. She can’t focus anymore, can’t fight, it’s like drowning, can’t push, can’t ---

“Elizabeth could sing it.”

The presence falls from her mind instantly.

“Jane,” she hisses.

“She speaks the truth, Herr Spokesman,” Vahlen offers. “Fraulein Regan has shown real promise.”

“I ---“

“Regan, come,” Volk orders.

“I hardly think a chorus girl will be a suitable replacement,” the Spokesman said. “She’s certainly pretty, but ease on the eyes does not a fine soprano make.”

She hopes the offense does not read on her face.

“Signorina,” the maestro says, gently. “From the beginning of the aria, if you please.”

She drops her shoulders and grounds herself, letting the tension out from her body. She draws in a deep breath, and waits for the maestro’s cue.

Her voice rings clear and true, easily ascending the high notes without sacrificing the warmth of the lower ones. She lets the music flow through her, reveling in it, in the way her voice carries through the space. This, she thinks, is what it’s about.

“Well, Mr. Spokesman,” Volk asks with a leering grin.

“I stand corrected.”

“And we’ll either need you in early or late tomorrow,” the stage manager says. “Costume will need to adjust the fit of the gown.”

She nods. “Of course. I’d prefer early tomorrow, if that’s a possibility.”

“8 A.M. sharp.”

She nods. “Thank you. 8 A.M.”

She pulls her coat around her shoulders in the mid-October breeze, and decides to walk home, rather than take the streetcar. This is her first real, leading role: no longer a chorus girl, no longer ensemble, but the lead. It is what she has spent years working for --- and is an incredibly lucky break for someone her age.

She wishes she could be excited, but she is only filled with a quiet dread.

She knows the intrusions, whatever they are, are growing more frequent, or, more accurately she suspects it. There are gaps where there shouldn’t be, holes where details should weave the story.

It is not medical, that much she is sure of. Away from the theater, at Doctor Shen’s or out in the world at large, it does not happen. She is herself, happy and whole. Her thoughts are her own, her movement, her actions. She can tell herself the story of the day without gaps, without questions.

By that same train, she doubts it is psychological.

She knows that the Others have established clinics, free places of help. She knows it would cost her nothing, that those who have gone in have reported miracles.

Maybe it is her grandfather’s superstitions carried with him from Ireland, but she does not trust them.

The Shens eat dinner late; it is the only thing that allows her to eat with anyone, instead of on her own.

“How is rehearsal?” The Doctor asks.

“Our leading soprano almost got crushed under a backdrop today, and then she quit.”

“Oh my.”

“Did the pulleys give?” Lily asks.

“Sorry, little one. I forgot to ask Wallace. Everyone seems to think it was human error from what I heard.”

“Who’s stepping in for the diva?”

“Me.”

“Well done!” The Doctor offers, smiling. “And so young, too.”

“I’m sure it’s just temporary. L’Assassina will be back. She could never abandon her public.”

“Why is she blue?” Lily asks.

She shrugs. “Some of the Others are. Not many, but a few.”

“Is she really an alien?”

“Lily,” her father interjects.

“Her skin really is blue, so take that for what it’s worth. All I can tell you for certain is that she’s a pain in the rump.”

The little girl laughs.

“Really, Elizabeth,” he says, turning his attention back to her. “Congratulations. It is quite the accomplishment.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Doctor.”

As long as she is on stage, she is safe. The thing, the presence, takes its leave and she can feel and focus and function as her own whole person. It’s when she is off, in the wings, in the dressing rooms, in the corridors backstage, that she loses herself.

At night, in her dreams, she hears him, beckoning her on, demanding she comply. It’s a crushing pressure in her skull, a ringing in her ears, a voice that she can’t block out. It’s the memory of her limbs, moving of their own accord; of her very consciousness, restrained against her will; of blue skin and a domineering voice.

It is coming for her, that much she knows

She steps into the theatre four hours before curtain on opening night, and wants to run.

You don’t have to do this, she tells herself. You could walk away. But, she knows in her heart, she can’t.

She sings the show as if it might be her last, her one shining moment before succumbing to the insistent pull of the darkness. Her voice carries out across the theatre, strong and lovely, the way she’d always imagined it would. She exists only in the moment, in the truth of the work and the rush of the adrenaline.

The applause are rapturous and the final standing ovation is something from a dream.

But the night is not yet finished with her.

Her make up is off and her hair loose when the knock comes at her door frame, and Jane’s head pokes its way in. “You’re being summoned. Apparently, we had important guests.”

Lizzies raises her eyebrows. “Who’s summoning me?’

“Mr. Spokesman himself.”

She follows Jane out into the hall and almost stops dead in her tracks.

The Spokesman is there, yes, but there is someone far, far more important.

The voice. The face. The carriage. She’s relieved to find he hasn’t changed. “John? John Bradford?” She asks, disbelieving.

“Ah, I see you’ve already met the Captain,” the Spokesman says.

“You were lovely,” he says, handing her a bouquet of sunflowers.

“They’re beautiful,” she says, beaming up at him. “Oh! Wait a moment!” She dashes back into the dressing room, and sets them on her table, before flitting back out, and catching him in a hug. She can feel laughter in his chest, and smell the aftershave on his skin.

He is real, and he is here.

He releases her after a moment, standing back to brush a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

“As you can see, Captain, talented and lovely,” Frau Vahlen offers as she passes by.

She reaches up pressing a hand to his cheek. “I had no idea you were in Washington. I would have --- I would have said something.”

“Don’t think twice about it. Fate’s funny.”

“Captain!” A voice calls, and his face falls. “I don’t suppose you’ve got much free time?” He asks.

“I could find it, but it works better if I tell you where to find me.”

He reaches into one of the interior pockets of his uniform jacket, and hands her a pad and pencil. She scribbles down her address, and passes it back to him. “We don’t rehearse Sundays.”

“Clear your calendar. I intend to impinge.”

“I’m expecting it now.”

His smile broadens, and he catches another stray lock. “I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you for the flowers,” she says, squeezing his hand. “Go before you upset someone.”

He shrugs. “For you, it’d be worth it.”

She watches him go with a glint in her eye.

“You seem to be better connected than we’d thought, Miss Regan,” the Spokesman says. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

As she returns to her dressing room to finish changing, she’s overwhelmed by that familiar, gut wrenching sensation.

The whole world goes black.

The thought of his visit is the only thing that rouses her from her bed, and through the next show. The slog through Saturday and its performance are agonizing. She feels the force, the creature with its blue skin and monstrous teeth, pushing at her mind, forcing its way in time and time again.

By the time he comes to collect her, her nerves are raw.

They walk the loop of Potomac Park, enjoying each other’s company and the sounds of the Tidal Basin. Her arm is comfortably looped through his, and she fights the urge to rest her head against his shoulder.

“The dressing room is nice, but I try to keep out of it.”

“I was surprised you didn’t take advantage of the relative calm.”

“As a rule, I try not to be anywhere too quiet in that theatre.

“Why?”

“You’ll think I’m loony.”

“I doubt it.”

She draws in a breath, then lets in out. She knows she’ll have to pick her way through the question carefully. “I lose time there. Not in the sense of being so engrossed in what I’m doing, but in the literal sense. I’ll be somewhere, doing something, and then the next thing I know, I’m somewhere entirely different with no memory of how I got there. It’s like something else is in my head, pulling the strings. Hours have passed. I don’t know why it happens.” She shudders. “And it’s happening more.”

His brow furrows. “More?”

She nods. “I can’t shake the sense that, whatever it is, it’s coming for me.” She shivers in the bright October sunlight. “After you left last night, it was another two or three hours before I went home. If I can account for half of that, it’s generous. I told you: you’d think I was loony.”

She’s surprised to see worry written on his face. “What does Dr. Shen say?”

“About the late arrivals? He doesn’t. Just takes it as part and parcel of having me as a tenant.”

“You must be a good tenant.”

She smiles. “I try. I’ve been with him since before he perfected the engine. I wasn’t rattled by explosions, or small fires before breakfast. I pay on time, I help where I can, and the first gentleman caller I bring to his door is you.”

“Like I said, good tenant. But if he takes it as the norm, then someone has to be concerned.”

“Who would be?”

“You are their lead soprano.”

“That’s still new. And it’s only until L’Assassina decides she wants to make her grand return.”

He frowns. “You don’t know that. Did you see the reviews this morning?”

She nods. “I did. But no human soprano generates the same kind of buzz as she does. It may have been fifteen years, but the awe for the beauty of the Others hasn’t died. I’m too young to be leading, anyway.”

“I was there last night. You’re not.”

“Why were you there, anyway?”

“I was invited by the Captain and his wife. It’s not the sort of thing you turn down.”

She nods. “It doesn’t sound it.”

“I’ve had a few too many missing persons cases. They thought a distraction was needed.”

“Why does the Navy have you investigating missing persons? Sounds like a civilian matter.”

“Not when it’s intelligence personnel going missing.”

“Defectors?”

He shakes his head. “By all accounts, loyal officers.”

“Strange.”

“Very.”

“In any case, I’m glad it brought you backstage last night.”

“I couldn’t not come say hello.”

“With sunflowers?”

“I used my time at intermission productively,” he grins.

She smiles back at him. “I’m impressed you remembered.”

“How could I forget? I spent three summers bringing you every one I could find.”

She blushes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I’m sorry I couldn’t write more.”

“Part and parcel of intelligence work.”

“When you’re abroad, at least.”

“But you’re stateside for now?”

“Permanently. I’m overseeing operations for the eastern half of the country.”

She lets out a low whistle. “You wasted no time making a name for yourself.”

“Lucky breaks.”

She shakes her head. “You sell yourself short.”

“Anyone could have done it.”

“You’re twenty-seven and overseeing Aero-Naval Intelligence for the entirety of the eastern United States. Anyone could have done that? No.”

His cheeks redden.

“So, you do still blush,” she teases.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Would you really have me any other way?”

“Absolutely not.”

They come to an agreement. He greets her backstage, she changes with the chorus, and deposits her costume in the dressing room, staying enmeshed in chaos and noise for as long as possible. He then escorts her back.

Their nightly strolls become the highlight of her day. He chases the worst of the dread from her mind, keeps the creeping fear at bay. He listens without judgment, without questioning the sanity she herself sometimes doubts. Slowly, the nightmares lose their hold on her, and she finds her dreams suffused with far more pleasant imagery.

At the end of the two week run, she’s forced to confess: she’ll miss their ritual. She doesn’t want it to end.

“Who says it has to?” He asks when she brings it up. “There’s nothing that says it does.”

“You don’t mind?” He chuckles. “Lizzie, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I like being around you. If that’s how my day ends, it’s better for it.”

They are standing on Doctor Shen’s front step.

“I know, “ she grins, “but it’s nice to hear you say it.”

“If you’ve got time tomorrow, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“I have the next week off,” she nods. “I’ll be free all day.”

“Good,” he says. “Then, it’s a date.”

They stand staring at each other for a moment, and then his lips are on hers --- or maybe hers on his. She cups his cheek with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder, and his arms are wrapped around her waist. He breaks the kiss first, ever mindful of appearances, and presses one to her forehead instead. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

#fic #central/commander #phantom au

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onceuponamirror · 7 years

Text

heart rise above

///// CHAPTER 8

summary: It wasn’t an experiment with freedom borne of some Americana fantasy; rather, a road trip of purely logistical intentions. The plan was simple. Drive from Boston to Chicago for his sister’s college graduation. That’s it.

Or, he drives a Ford Pickup Named Desire.

Mechanic!AU

fandom: riverdale ship: betty x jughead words: 36k chapters: 8/19

[read from the beginning] [read the latest]

And I'm getting older, too

Jughead’s fingers run smoothly along the dashboard of her car as if greeting an old friend.

“I love the chrome in vintage cars,” he says softly, firm admiration mixing with his typical surliness. “Every little detail was just so…cohesive. Now it’s like each part of a car competes with itself.”

“I know what you mean,” Betty agrees, allowing a moment of appreciation for the way he meets her smile. She feels silly with how happy she is just to be around him again. But is it so surprising? She hasn’t been able to keep him from her thoughts for very long, especially since their day at the river. And she’s known about her attraction to him from the start, though it does feel like absence has made the heart grow fonder in this case.

Heat flashes through her at the memory of his muscled arms slicing through the water, so she fiddles with the radio settings in hopes of distracting herself. “Though speaking of anachronism, I do have an aux chord, if you want to play more of that road trip playlist?”

Jughead snorts and nods, taking the little black cord from her deftly. He plugs it into his phone, reaches forward for the stereo, and Leonard Cohen’s gravely thoughts come to life.

“I’m surprised Archie let you make a driving playlist, considering he’s the musician,” Betty notes.

In the background, she’s dimly aware of Leonard Cohen's rasping lyrics.

(And just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her, she lets the river answer that you've always been her lover.)

Jughead seems distracted by his thoughts, but hearing her, he flicks his eyes across the car.

“That he is,” Jughead says, “but he also has a very limited scope, so to speak. He often forgets that there are singer-songwriters dating back further than 1992. Music school helped, but as of this week, he still thinks Stevie Nicks is a guy, so clearly not entirely.”

“Yikes,” Betty hisses through a giggle.

“I mean, it almost makes the fact that he’s actually a decent musician all the more impressive,” Jughead says, sighing. He rolls down his window and sticks his head out the window, letting the whizzing of the road filter through the car.

It’s still morning, but Betty can tell it’s going to be a hot day. Humidity has been gathering for days, with the first series of summer storms forecasted over the next few weeks, but clearly today promised to be the start.

Along the horizon, gray clouds swell and greet.

She prefers driving with the windows open, but she turns on the A/C she’d installed anyway, while Jughead removes his beanie in order to run his fingers through his hair. He leaves the hat in his lap, giving Betty a long moment to rake her eyes over the black curls before returning them to the road.

“You have nice hair,” she finds herself saying, and Jughead’s hands immediately reach for the hat again. They hover over it, and then seem to settle for squeezing the brim.

“I know the hat is stupid,” he mumbles, eyes downcast.

“That wasn’t what I meant at all,” Betty says hastily, realizing this beanie is a sensitive subject.

He shrugs. “No, it is. It’s just one of those habits I’ve never broken, like much of my latent adolescent angst.”

Betty disagrees, and tells him as much, but he waves her off and changes the subject. “So, what’s on our docket today?”

She feels a flutter at our, and tries to hold it down. “Well, first is my meeting with the Chisholms. We should get that out of the way, I think.” At his inquisitive look, she adds, “I have a monthly meeting with Adam and his father. My dad and Adam’s dad were best friends, so they like to check in with me.”

“Were?” Jughead repeats, and Betty realizes that she’s never actually told him about her own father. She supposes it had to come up sometime, and there’s no point in lying.

“My dad died,” she says softly, her hands gripping the steering wheel. “Just over a year ago.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, really,” she assures him, and finds that it’s the truth. She hasn’t always been able to talk about this, but she feels surprisingly calm now. “He was sick for a long time. Brain cancer. In the end…I’m glad he isn’t suffering anymore.”

“Yeah,” Jughead says sympathetically.

“I learned everything I know from him,” she adds, breaking into a smile at the memory of childhood evenings spent under the hood of a car. “I didn’t plan on moving back to Riverdale, but now…the garage is my way of staying close to him, I think.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t plan on moving back?”

She inhales. “I went to Colombia for school, majored in English with an emphasis for Publishing. I wanted to be a book editor, actually. After graduation, I got an internship out in Somerville.”

“Somerville, Mass.?” Jughead repeats, his eyebrows rising. “Outside of Boston? You were in my hood?”

“Just the summer of 2014,” she says, halfway through a sigh of nostalgia. “I liked it. Not so big as New York, but still a real city.”

“It’s a great place,” Jughead agrees, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. “Why’d you leave?”

“My sister came to visit me, towards the end of my internship. I was so excited to see her and show her around—my boss had made me a formal job offer, I had an apartment I really liked, and was even making friends. But at the end of her trip, she told me that our parents hadn’t been honest with me about how sick our dad really was. They’d said his cancer was in remission, but it didn’t stay that way. They relied on Polly a lot, and she was feeling really overwhelmed—she had this two toddlers, she was trying to go back to work…”

She lets out a long breath as the rest of the story bubbles up. “Mom and Dad had bills, and Polly’s in-laws wouldn’t offer any financial help, and that Dad needed help with the garage. She said I should come back, not only to help, but because she didn’t want me to be blindsided should things get worse. Which they did, eventually.”

“I’m sorry, Betty,” Jughead says, and she shakes her head.

“I’m just glad I wasn’t away in his final years. It was good to have had that time with him.” Whatever else she may now feel, this is the truth. She is grateful for what she had, and with a few exceptions, probably wouldn’t do anything differently.

“Thanks for telling me, then,” he says, fiddling with the edge of his beanie.

She looks over, her breath hitching. “Well, thanks for listening.”

As they roll up towards the Chisholm Garage, the sky rumbles ominously. Rain looks imminent now, but she’s distracted by greetings from the mechanics milling about. “Hey Betty!” One guy, Raj, calls, as he runs a washcloth over a glistening Audi A6. “Adam’s in the back!”

She gestures in thanks, and heads in through the garage, Jughead on her heels as he tugs his hat back on. She finds Adam leaning over the open hood of a new BMW, having muffled conversation with a fellow mechanic. He looks up when he hears them approaching, his face breaking into a big grin as his arms wrap her in a hug.

“Hey! Or should I say, howdy?” He greets.

“How was Nashville?” She asks, pulling back slightly.

Adam shrugs and gives a little fluff to his auburn hair. “Fun. You missed out, though. You know the offer always stands—you’re always welcome on a Chisholm family trip.”

“Next time,” she says, angling so that she can beckon Jughead over. He’s been hanging back with a frown, eyes moving between them. “Adam, this is Jughead. It’s his truck I’m getting the compressor for,” Betty explains, as Jughead hesitantly steps forward.

Even Adam, normally friendly towards everyone, seems to be sizing Jughead up as he pulls one hand from his pockets and reaches for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. Jughead, is that your name?” Jughead nods, and Adam glances at her from the corner of his eye. “Well, I was happy to help out. Anything for my girl Betty.”

Jughead raises an eyebrow when Adam turns back to him. “Betty said it was a ’77? F-150, right? Wow. That’s a real blast from the past.”

“It’s a beautiful truck,” Betty supplies, because it almost sounds like an insult and Jughead appears on the cusp of an award-winning scowl.

“You always had more of an appreciation for the oldies than me, Betts,” Adam chuckles, gesticulating at the pristine BMW next to them. He shrugs. “Alright, shall we?”

“Sure,” Betty agrees. “Where’s your dad? In the office already? I got him his favorite Merlot.”

“It’s actually just us today, Betts,” Adam replies, taking the bottle of wine from her. Jughead, who had been inspecting the rafters of the garage with interest, quickly swivels his neck back towards them. “He has some business in Albany this afternoon that couldn’t wait. But I’ll be sure to pass it along to him.”

“Oh,” Betty says, because she’s never had a meeting at the garage without Mr. Chisholm present. She remembers Kevin’s musings on Adam’s feelings for her, and suddenly feels like she needs to defend it to Jughead, which is silly. She shouldn’t feel guilty for taking a business meeting.

Perhaps it’s because she suspects Kevin is right about Adam, and maybe it’s because she doesn’t want Jughead to think it’s mutual.

She meets Jughead’s eye, and gives him a reassuring smile. “We’ll just be a little while.”

“Do your thing. I’ll wait by the car,” he says, and slinks off.

“Ready?” Adam asks, cocking his neck at her. Betty realizes she’s been staring at the back of Jughead and shakes her head to clear her thoughts. He leads her back into his office, and she settles into a chair across the desk.

“I know it’s kind of weird to do our monthly without Dad, but we weren’t expecting you so soon, and he really had to take care of this shipment coming from Albany,” Adam explains, leaning back in his swivel chair.

Feeling slightly relieved that meeting with Adam alone wasn’t something he planned, Betty nods. “I know I moved up the date, but my friend is really on a deadline to get back on the road, and I don’t want to be working up against it. Thanks for letting me come by today instead.”

Adam looks thoughtful. “So, your friend—Jughead, right?—he’s just passing through?”

Don’t remind me, she thinks. “Yep,” she says instead.

He makes a slight noise in the back of his throat, and then leans forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together. “So, to business. I have two propositions for you, and…hear me out first, okay?”

Betty releases a long breath, feeling nervous.

“I just want to say I could’ve never done what you did, Betty,” Adam says softly. “If I’d lost my dad and my only other employee went back to school and I was running this garage by myself, I would’ve already had a mental break down, or four.” He chuckles, like maybe this is funny, but Betty just feels her anxiety dial up. “I’m in awe of you, really.”

She swallows, forcing the same placating smile that she likes to fall back on, especially when someone brings up the garage or her father. Her fingers, without anything else to do, ease into a familiar vice and curl backwards into her palms. “Thanks.”

Adam’s expression turns serious again. “My dad and I—you know we made a promise to Hal that we would check in with you; look out for his family. That’s why we have these monthly meetings, right? Well, more specifically, he asked us to make sure you and the garage were doing okay.”

Betty nods; this isn’t anything she doesn’t already know, but Adam’s vague recapping makes her hesitant. Adam continues, “But these past few months, my dad and I have noticed…I mean, the compressor, for example. It’s not that I don’t love seeing you or getting your calls, honestly,” he’s quick to add, “but you should have more than one compressor lying around.”

Her head jerks back in surprise at Adam’s frankness. He’s not wrong, but it still stings.

He drops his head, sighing. “I know that sounds harsh, and I’m sure my dad could explain this better than me, but—you’re an incredible mechanic. You and I both know that. But running a garage is a business, Betty, and we think that maybe Hal didn’t prepare you for that.”

“What are you trying to say?” She raises her chin in the air, trying to appear more confident than she feels.

“Well, we’d like to buy the garage,” Adam replies, his tone blunt.

Her nails are fully digging into her palms now, but in the shock of his announcement, her fingers briefly slip against her skin. “What?”

“Almost nothing would change,” he assures her hastily. “You would still be head mechanic. It’d still be Cooper Garage. We would just…take over some of the managerial stuff, for instance.”

“Managerial stuff?” She echoes.

“Ordering parts, making sure shipments arrive, hiring more mechanics; stuff like that. My dad has been doing this for 40 years, Betts, and we’ve been talking about expanding for a while now, and we can give you a great offer. This way, you can clear out some of the hospital bills in one fell swoop.”

For a sweet bliss of a moment, Betty imagines what it would feel like to have those taken off her shoulders. No more looming debt, no more living in that big house with only her mother, no more—but she stops there.

She couldn’t really be considering this, could she? That garage meant everything to her father; how could she sell it?

“I don’t know, Adam,” Betty says, exhaling shakily. “This garage is my livelihood. It’s…” The only thing I have left of him, she thinks, but cannot form the words.

But Adam seems to understand. He nods slowly, and runs a hand through his reddish-brown hair. “Look, just…keep an open mind about it, would you? And I know my dad would really like to make the formal offer himself, so why don’t you take the month to think about it?”

“Alright,” she says tightly. “I have to talk to my mom, but I will think about it.”

There’s a long intermission as Adam looks at her with an expression she cannot place.

“You said there were two propositions?” Betty asks, if only to break the silence.

“Right. Secondly—I heard about you and Trev,” he says, while Betty’s stomach sinks. “I’d honestly be lying if I said I was sorry, but I hope it wasn’t too hard on you.”

He pauses, but when she can’t find anything to say, he goes on. “I’ve known you a long time, Betty Cooper. But with your high school boyfriend coming in and out of the picture, I never really had my chance. And I’d like to get one in before the next fellow throws his hat into the ring, which I’d guess won’t be long, if it hasn’t already happened. I mean, you’re not seeing that Jughead guy, are you?”

Betty manages a mute shake of the head, and Adam looks relieved. “Well. I hope this doesn’t come as too much of a shock when I say I think we’d be good together. I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“You’re asking me out?” Betty stutters, somehow feeling shocked even though Kevin has warned her about this for years.

She’s not sure why she’s so resistant to the idea—it’s not like Adam isn’t good-looking. It’s not like he isn’t a good person. But they don’t have much in common, beyond being mechanics. And even then, he likes flashy new cars, she has a soft spot for junkers, and feels like that says something. And isn’t this just Trev all over again?

Jughead’s roving, deceptively tender eyes flash across her mind, and she has her answer.

Betty opens her mouth to turn him down, but seeming to guess her response, he beats her to it. “Just…think about it? While you’re thinking about the garage? We can talk about it next month. I’m not in a rush.”

He’s smiling at her so hopefully that she almost wants to tell him she will, but that’s not fair, to keep him hanging. “I’m sorry, Adam. I just don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

Adam’s grin falls, and he sighs deeply. “It’s that other guy, right? You like him?”

“Yes,” Betty admits aloud for the first time, finding the truth comes easily. Something warm spreads across her chest. “But I don’t think we would’ve worked anyway, Adam. You’re like a brother to me.”

He lets out a frustrated chuckle. She appreciates that about him; good-natured even in the face of disappointment. “That’s what I was afraid of,” he says, standing. “Well, I had to try. Tell Jughead he’s a lucky guy.”

She rises from her chair as well, adjusting her purse over her shoulder and not bothering to mention she has no idea if Jughead feels the same way. They shake hands and make goodbyes, but as she’s in the doorway, Adam calls out again. “But really, Betty. Please consider the first offer.”

She looks back over her shoulder. “I will think about it,” she promises.

Jughead is waiting for her by the exit, rather than the car, because it has begun sprinkling. “How’d your meeting go?” He asks, as Betty turns on the wiper blades.

“Okay,” Betty sighs, deciding to leave out the second half of the conversation even though she desperately wants to know what his reaction would be. “Adam and his father want to…buy the garage. They’re looking to expand, but also…they think I’m not running it as well as I could be. They want to take over with some managerial stuff.”

“What?” Jughead breathes, looking furious. “He said that? Turn the car around, Betty, that’s fucked up. I wanna talk to him.”

“Juggie.” He stops his ranting, and she tries not to smile at how defensive he’s being on her behalf. “It’s okay, really. They’re not wrong.”

“Yes, they are,” he says adamantly. “I’ve been in that garage with you, remember? I’ve seen you at work. Fuck them. You’re running it perfectly.”

“I’m not,” she maintains, with a trickle of frustration. She hates that word, perfect. “If I was, I would’ve already had the compressor part you needed. Or—Joaquin and Kevin are going to Europe for the rest of the summer in two weeks, and I haven’t even started looking for someone to replace him temporarily. I don’t know what I was thinking, because now I’m going to need to either extend my hours or close the garage on weekends, which is gonna be a hit on business.”

Anxiety flickers across her skin, and she re-tightens her grip on her steering wheel until her knuckles are white. Now that she’s said it out loud, it all feels more real. And to his credit, Jughead seems to understand her point, which she appreciates. She doesn’t want to be put on a pedestal, especially not by him.

“They still shouldn’t have said it like that,” he says, finally, eying her hands. She catches him looking, and tries to relax her grasp.

“It’s really fine. It’s something to think about. And I’d rather people be honest with me,” Betty says. Jughead’s eyebrows furrow.

He remains silent beside her, worrying his lip between his teeth.

Their afternoon is spent ducking in and out of little shops; the rain is still light enough for it not to ruin the day, so she follows through on her promise of a nice lunch and antiquing. Jughead finds something to say about nearly every item in the shops, inserting some kind of back story onto each of the dolls or furniture or paintings, and it amuses her to no end.

In the growing heat, Jughead sheds down to his t-shirt and she spends a solid couple of minutes thinking about what's beneath it. She wonders how long she can keep from essentially throwing herself at him, but then he’ll do something like wink at her from behind a particularly creepy doll, and she’ll start giggling again, and the moment will pass.

After a couple of hours, humidity wins out, and the sky opens up.

“We should get back on the road, before this gets worse,” Betty sighs from under an awning. Her skin feels sticky with sweat, and all that time in musty antique shops hasn’t helped.

“Probably,” he agrees, narrowing his eyes up at the dark clouds overhead. They rush back to the car as the rain picks up around them, and drive back to Riverdale with light conversation about Archie and Veronica’s blooming relationship.

She starts to turn off for the exit to his motel, wondering if there’s a way to extend their day. “You wouldn’t want to…make dinner, by chance? I’ve heard corn is your favorite food, after all,” she adds, with a smirk.

“Ha, ha,” he says drolly, but he’s smiling. Her windshield wipers are working in full force against the downpour now. “Yeah, that…I would like that. Corn and all.”

She grins, driving past his motel and on to the grocery store where they’d met earlier this morning, because if she’s making dinner for two she needs more food. They park and run into the store with their arms over their heads, rain pouring down their backs in buckets and laughing. Jughead shakes his head roughly, like a dog splashing in a puddle, and water flies into her face, which only makes her giggle harder. He meets her grin, but his expression is increasingly turning serious.

Then—in a bold move, he reaches forward and pushes the wet hair off her face, which immediately makes her still.

His eyes darken slightly, and he might be moving closer, but the sliding doors open behind them, other people are shuffling in and collapsing their umbrellas—and Betty remembers they’re standing in the entryway of a grocery store under the din of florescent lighting.

(Nicholas Sparks would never.)

Whatever moment was arguably there is quickly gone. When she looks back to Jughead, he’s holding a grocery basket in his hands and waiting for her expectantly, his expression schooled.

“Let’s make this quick,” she says, shivering a little as her damp skin meets the frigid air conditioning. She pulls her phone from her purse, grateful it’s still dry, and finds a recipe from her favorite cooking app. They set to work gathering the necessary produce and miscellaneous items—Jughead makes a skeptical remark at how healthy this is all sounding, but doesn’t otherwise protest—and they finish in record time.

Toni is still working at the grocery checkout, and she fixes them both with a confused look. “Weren’t you two here earlier?”

“Yes, Toni,” Betty says, with a sigh. “This a friend of mine, Jughead.”

Toni blows a pink tendril off her forehead and tips her chin up at Jughead in the same movement. “Oh yeah. Joaquin told me about this guy.”

“Pardon?” Jughead asks, seemingly paying attention for the first time.

“Nothing,” Betty says swiftly, because whatever Joaquin told his best friend, he surely got from Kevin, who has surely nothing but gossip to offer, and she wants none of that getting back to Jughead.

“Mm-hm,” Toni murmurs acerbically, returning to her task of ringing up the groceries. “So, how’s Cheryl doing?”

She doesn’t see Toni often, her being more of a friend of Joaquin than anyone else, but whenever she does, she makes a point to bug Betty into gathering intel on Cheryl’s relationship status. Last time, Betty had insisted that Cheryl wasn’t ready to start dating again, let alone over Veronica. Her impression of that hadn’t changed much, though Cheryl did seem less upset at the sight of Archie than she had with Veronica’s last fling.

“Subtle,” Betty intones.

Toni shrugs. “I’m not known for that.”

“I’ll find out, okay?” Betty tells her, and means it. “But only if we were never here.”

“Don’t tell Kevin, got it,” she replies, not missing a beat. She whips into a grin. “That’ll be $30.67.”

“Is there a reason why that lady can’t tell Kevin we were at the store?” Jughead asks, after they’ve loaded the groceries into the car and are back on the road. The rain hadn’t let up even an inch, and so Jughead had used his flannel to protect their grocery bags from the sheets of water.

“Oh, um,” Betty replies, pretending to focus on driving. “I just…Kevin likes to gossip.”

She blushes furiously, because she’d been about to say Kevin likes to gossip about my love life, which would’ve been right out admitting to Jughead that she likes him. And if maybe there were different circumstances, she would’ve taken that opportunity.

But Jughead is leaving in two weeks, and she’s had nothing but whiplash from his mixed signals thus far, so that’s not a bet she’s yet willing to hedge.

“Copy,” Jughead says slowly, squinting at her. They finish the drive in silence and, for about the zenith time today, Betty is grateful that her mom is away; this time it’s because she gets to park in the garage and spare them any further onslaught by Mother Nature.

Jughead’s arms wrap around the grocery bags as Betty gathers up his wet flannel. She directs him to the kitchen, while she heads for the laundry area. She peels out of her soaked clothes and fumbles into a basket of clean clothes, pulling on a pair of leggings and a soft cotton shirt. Her outfit is too delicate for the dryer, so she hangs it to air-dry and throws Jughead’s flannel into the machine.

She realizes he’ll probably need something dry to wear himself, and has a moment of pivoting around the laundry room before she finds the large Cooper Garage t-shirt that once belonged to her father. She hesitates at the thought of handing it off to Jughead, but no one deserves to sit around in wet clothes, and she’s sure she’ll get it back.

Deciding that he’s skinny enough to fit into her sweatpants, she grabs those, a pair of socks, and goes to meet him. He’s standing at the border of the living room, his eyes sweeping over the high ceilings and family portraits. “Nice digs,” he murmurs. “Maybe I should go into the mechanic business.”

“Yeah, or move to a town where you can live off a baker’s dozen,” Betty replies, which makes Jughead snort.

“Minimum wage joke, nice,” he says, following her into the kitchen.

“This is actually my paren—Mom’s house though,” Betty clarifies, much to Jughead’s sudden distress.

He flashes her a look of mild panic. “You could’ve warned me I was going to meet the Mrs.,” he says, glancing around worriedly, as if Alice Cooper is about to leap out from behind the couch and accuse him of corrupting her daughter. Which, if she were being honest, probably wouldn’t be far from the truth.

“My mom is out of town this week,” Betty says, pressing her lips together to hide her smile. Jughead absorbs this with flexing eyes and visibly relaxes, leaning against a counter.

She has a fluttering moment of distraction, because there’s something about the way his body stretches out devil-may-care that makes her eyes drop to the brief flash of damp skin at the hem of his shirt.

“Um. Anyway, not that I don’t love the grunge look, I think you’ll probably want these. I can put your other clothes in the dryer while I make dinner,” she says, handing him the pile of clean garments in her arms.

“Tropes: game, match, set,” he mumbles as he sets off for a bathroom to change. Betty blushes, because she might as well have offered to get him out of his wet clothes, as if they live in some kind of rom-com.

He returns with a blank look on his face. His soaked beanie sits on the top of the outfit in his arms, and in the time it takes for her to add his clothes to the dryer and pin up his hat to air out, Jughead has started unpacking the groceries.

It’s a shockingly sweet moment of domesticity, and Betty briefly allows herself to enjoy the sight, let alone where her imagination takes her beyond that. If things were different, if they’d met when she was living in Boston or he’d moved to Riverdale—would this be their life? Would they be together? Would she even have kissed him yet?

And then he turns around, and she realizes with a giggle that she’s given him her old high-school sweats. The word VIXEN is printed in big letters on his ass, so she has to slap her hand over her mouth to stifle her sniggering.

It’s unsuccessful; Jughead glances over, looking mildly alarmed. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Nope,” she chirps, bouncing over to him in the kitchen.

“So what can I do to help?” He asks, after watching her suspiciously. Betty comes around to his side of the island and pulls a large pot from a cupboard.

“Fill that up with water for the corn,” she instructs, while she gets to work with knives, a cutting board, and the tomatoes. When Jughead returns from setting the water on the stove, she hands him an onion to chop.

Halfway through dicing the onion, his eyes start to water, and he takes a break to blink his eyes up at the ceiling. “So if you’ve only been living here a few months, where were you before?” He asks, glancing at her. “Just trying to paint a full picture of the mysterious Betty Cooper.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me mysterious before,” Betty sighs, using the knife to scrape the vegetables into a bowl. She puts down her cutlery and meets his gaze with resignation; somehow, she knew they’d finally get to this. “I was living with my boyfriend.”

Jughead, who had been stealing a bite of the tomato slices she’d just cut up, begins to cough loudly. He flattens his palm against his chest and beats it a few times as he sputters through the moment.

“Sorry,” he says finally. “Went down the wrong pipe. Uh, cool. So, when am I going to meet this…boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend. I should’ve been more clear,” Betty says, biting her lip. Was she imagining it, or did he sound suspiciously too nonchalant? He’s so hard to read, let alone tell if he’s even interested—especially after he disappeared on her this week—but with their little moments all day, she’s started wondering if she’s not so unrequited. She slaps his hand away from reaching for another tomato piece. “And stop eating these, or we won’t have enough for sauce.”

Jughead licks his lips and has the decency to look guilty, but at the last moment, sneaks a smirk her way. She rolls her eyes once again, but settles for handing him a cheese shredder and a block of parmesan.

“So,” he says, in that strange voice again, “what happened? Between you and the ex?”

She glances his way, and he immediately backpedals. “I don’t know why I asked you that. You don’t have to tell me, obviously.” He’s now determinedly focused on shredding cheese.

“It’s alright, Juggie,” she hears herself saying. The words continue to come despite her better judgment. “I’m just not great at talking about it. Or a lot of things. I get anxious and can’t…” She trails off as the familiar staccato of dread reappears.

She hears her heart thumping in her ears as Jughead’s hand finds measure on her arm. She realizes he’s abandoned his task and standing awfully close all of a sudden. She swallows and steps back so that she can find something to busy herself with.

If she doesn’t occupy her hands while she talks about Trev, she’ll fall back on destructive habits. It’s one of the coping mechanisms that actually works, so Betty settles into the motions of setting up the vegetable spiralizer and prepping the zucchini.

“But…I think avoiding it is just making it worse, so I should try. Trev…was great. Is great. We dated in high school, and broke up when I went to college, but when I moved back, it was so hard with my dad and family that…it just seemed easy to lean on the past. And he’s so sweet, and so nice, but I felt like I was dating myself sometimes. We never joked around, or talked about anything too serious. It just was boring, after a while.”

She looks up; Jughead’s eyes are narrowed thoughtfully. “Anyway. We had a lot of issues, and I wanted to break up with him for a while. But really, the main problem was…that Trev never wanted to leave Riverdale. He likes it here. I knew it would come up eventually, but I somehow wasn’t ready for it when it did.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighs and forces herself to meet his gaze. “He proposed,” she says quietly, dropping her eyes. “And I…had a panic attack on the spot.”

“Shit,” Jughead says.

Betty is silent for a moment as she takes a few measured breaths. “I just…all of a sudden, I saw myself turning into my sister, who turned into our mother. Who never left Riverdale, who married their high school sweetheart young, who popped out 2 kids and a white picket fence. And I knew if I didn’t say no then, I would never say no again. I would be here forever.”

She glances up, and sees him nodding along solemnly. “You were brave,” he says.

“I was just honest.”

“It’s the same thing,” he insists. He pauses, running his tongue along his teeth. Rain thunders down along the roof, echoing the rhythm in her heart. “Betty, if you don’t want to be in Riverdale, why are you still here?”

“I can’t leave,” she says simply. “I just can’t.”

He moves closer. “Why not? Why can’t you sell the garage to these Chisholm people? You trust them, right? Isn’t it kind of the perfect solution?”

“Because my family needs me,” she says, her voice hitching. “Because I can’t just leave. We have medical bills, and my mom was living here in this big house alone, and my sister has her hands full. Because the garage is all I have left of my dad. My grandfather built the business himself, to give something to his son, who gave it to me. How could I just walk away? How could I sell that? Sell our memories?”

“But it’s not what you want,” Jughead says softly, his hands finding purchase on her own. “Betty, you have options. You have connections. You already got a job offer in publishing once, I bet you can get it again. Or, hell, even I have connections. Let me help.”

“You don’t get it.” Betty shakes her head furiously, pulling her hands away from him and wrapping them around her arms. She sees the twins’ faces, her sister’s, her mother’s. They need her. It takes all of her willpower not to curl her fingers into fists.

“I don’t get needing to make a hard decision about separating what I want and need from what my family wants and needs? Really? I thought you read my book,” he sighs, throwing a hand in the air.

She looks over as it clicks into place. “The part about his father?”

Jughead nods solemnly. “Art imitating life. I had to cut off contact with my dad two years ago, when he got his third DUI arrest and went to prison for it,” he replies tersely. “It wasn’t easy, but I had to do it for me and my sister. I bailed him out way too many times and he never once fucking changed. It’s different, but yeah, I understand what it’s like to shoulder a responsibility that isn’t mine.”

She stares at him, and then, to her own horror, breaks out into a sob. Jughead’s arms are around her in a flash as she bursts into a fit of crying. “It’s okay,” he whispers, while she mutters incoherently about how she can’t, she can’t, she can’t—but can’t what, because she no longer knows.

Can’t sell the garage? Can’t leave Riverdale? Can’t tell him what she feels around him? He rocks with her gently, murmuring encouragement and hushed mantras. She feels her world pull back, acutely aware of his body against her own.

Halfway through the tears, she wants to throw herself into something physical—let herself act on the desire she’s been stifling—but she can’t quite make herself do it. She can’t kiss him like this, red-eyed and blubbering, or use him to escape her own thoughts. It’s not fair to either of them.

Outside, it’s still raining.

She settles for tucking herself against his neck as her sniffling becomes more infrequent. “It’s okay,” Jughead says again, his voice sounding somewhat broken. His fingers leave light touches of gooseflesh along her arm. “It’s okay.”

When her eyes are finally dry, they untangle themselves. Betty rubs the heel of her palms into her cheeks, wiping away any remnants of tears. “Sorry—” she starts.

“Don’t apologize,” Jughead interrupts, his voice steady.

“But I was going to make you dinner,” she sighs, glancing over at the half-prepared mess of vegetables. “Zucchini noodles and tomato sauce and—”

“Which, while sounds great, we can take a literal rain check on. You’ve had a long day,” he says, slipping back so that he can raid through her cabinets. His head disappears behind an open cupboard, and when he closes it, he’s shaking a box of Mac & Cheese. “I don’t claim to have a lot of culinary affectation, but even a lowly fool can manage this. Go sit, watch something.”

She starts to protest, but he’s shooing her towards the couch and pressing a remote firmly into her hands. After realizing he won’t budge on this, she finds a silly movie to put on and tries to pay attention. 20 minutes in, Jughead is flipping off a light switch and returning with two steaming bowls of macaroni.

“I added the parmesan, since it was already shredded,” Jughead adds, when she glances over in surprise at the taste, the spoon still in her mouth. He scratches at his neck. “And a little pepper. That’s how my sister liked it, pre-veganism.”

He gets comfortable on the couch and leaves an opening for her to lean into him, should she want it. She does.

Betty rests her head against his chest, eating in silence while Jughead makes snide comments about the characters on the screen. He’s seen this movie before, and apparently has a lot of thoughts on it.

She tilts up at him, taking in his still-damp hair, the television glow reflected in his eyes, and the soft expression he has when he returns her gaze. He seems like he wants to say something, but instead his lips twitch into a smile.

Betty is disappointed, but then again, she has some things she would like to say too. Things she would like to do.

But on the off chance she’s reading things wrong, this is a moment she doesn’t want to spoil. So she turns her head back to the screen, focuses on the rise and fall of his chest beneath her ear, and the heat of his body through his clothes.

Feeling hyper aware of her own heartbeat, she tries to concentrate on her meal, but realizes she can’t remember the last time anyone made her dinner.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #fics #long update #recommended listening: suzanne by leonard cohen

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hafizhamza313 · 5 years

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MacBook Pro 2019: 16-inch MacBook Pro Release Date, News and Rumors

The MacBook Pro 2019 refresh is an upgrade from its 2018 predecessor, but there are still many MacBook users that are getting fed up with recent moves that Apple’s made. The Cupertino company has been releasing new MacBook Pros and other Apple devices faster than we can replenish our bank accounts. And, while some of these upgrades have resulted in better devices – hats off to you, Mac mini – many of them are falling a bit flat. These updates are all due to Apple changing the way it approached the MacBook Pro back in 2016, focusing on features that make one of the best Macs more accessible to everyday users by further streamlining the design. This is perhaps why Apple got rid of all the non-Thunderbolt 3 ports. And, the MacBook Pro is certainly a case of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’. However, there are plenty of old-school Apple users that are being alienated by Apple’s latest design philosophy. To be fair, the MacBook Pro 2018 did benefit from a significant internal revamp, now rocking 8th-generation Coffee Lake processors and some of the fastest SSDs we’ve seen to date, giving it unprecedented speed. Additionally, Apple has improved the display with True Tone tech, as well as fixed the issues with the Butterfly keyboard – or some of them at least. It did all that while maintaining the impressive battery levels of the 2017 model. As of July 2019, these are true as well for the 13-inch MacBook Pro entry-level model, which – thanks to a recent refresh – now touts the 8th-generation Intel Core i5 chip, True Tone Retina display and the improved keyboard – not to mention the Touch Bar, Touch ID and Apple’s T2 security chip. Even better, Apple has also released 15-inch MacBook Pro configurations that tout the latest 8-core Intel Core i9, Intel’s latest 9th generation processor (CPU). These configurations are now Apple’s top-of-the-line MacBook Pros, the cheapest of which supports the 2.3GHz 8‑core 9th‑generation Intel Core i9 (Turbo Boost up to 4.8GHz) CPU with 16GB memory (RAM), a Radeon Pro 560X graphics (GPU) and 512GB SSD storage at $2,799 (£2,699, A$4,099). What do these latest improvements mean for the 16-inch MacBook Pro 2019 we've also been anticipating? Recent rumours have reinforced the possibility of a true redesign gracing us with its presence this year, perhaps alongside the new Mac Pro 2019. However, Apple might opt to roll out a completely new model in 2020 or 2021. Regardless, the true MacBook Pro 2019 could still happen, especially because the 12-inch MacBook was recently dropped from the lineup. Famed Apple analyst Ming-Chi Kuo has produced some leaks that suggest Apple is going to release a 16-inch MacBook Pro 2019 with an “all-new” design, and that could still happen this year. Plus, we’re still keeping our fingers crossed they’ll give that still-pesky keyboard a redesign, and recent reports are looking good in that regard. If the completely overhauled MacBook Pro 2019 is still in the works, here are the things we’re hoping to see. Cut to the chase What is it? The first-ever 16-inch MacBook Pro When is it out? Possibly late 2019 How much will it cost? Reports say around $3,000 (about £2,450, AU$4,350)

Image Credit: Apple MacBook Pro 2019 release date While a 2019 follow-up redesign to the MacBook Pro (as well as the Mac Pro) is still something many Apple fans are looking forward to, there’s only a vague "2019" rumoured release date at this time. That’s hardly a surprise since the last major update came out in July 2018, and Apple just dropped its 9th-gen Intel Core CPU configurations and a 13-inch MacBook Pro July 2019 refresh. Still, it would be curious to see macOS Catalina in an overhauled MacBook Pro. We might need to wait a few more months for a clearer date, or even a confirmation that it will happen, but rumours and reports are piling up. If we’re going by Apple’s previous release dates – with the MacBook Pro 2017 launching in June 2017 and the MacBook Pro 2018 model debuting under the radar in July 2018 – a summer release for the MacBook Pro 2019 made sense. We must consider that, after Intel announced the 10nm Ice Lake chips at CES 2019 for a late 2019 release date, and Apple's macOS Catalina is set for a fall release – not to mention the fact that it just gave the 15-inch model a 9th-gen refresh and the 13-inch model an 8th-gen and Touch Bar refresh. With these two factors in mind, we could see Apple released the MacBook Pro somewhere around then to take advantage of the new tech and operating system update immediately. The possibility of a redesigned MacBook Pro in 2019 is shaky still, but we’re keeping our fingers crossed. We'll be keeping a close eye on Apple's forgone iPhone event in September – if not, we could be looking at an October or even November launch of this 16-inch MacBook Pro.

Image Credit: TechRadar MacBook Pro 2019 price Just the fact that Apple has refreshed its non-Touch Bar MacBook Pros this July 2019 to boast a higher processor, a better keyboard, and the Touch Bar and Touch ID features says a lot about the direction in which they’re going. The worst part of the 2019 models is the fact that you need to spend thousands of dollars to secure the highest amount of RAM (the 32GB RAM option is only available to the 15-inch models) and the largest SSD combo. Otherwise, you’re stuck with the smallest amount of RAM and a Touch Bar that isn’t even universally compatible. You can also forget about upgrading your 13-inch. The majority of its parts are soldered, so you’ll be forced to bring in a professional and break your warranty. You also may have to buy a third-party docking station since the only ports available to you are the USB-C Thunderbolt 3 ports and a headphone jack. Of course, it’s hard to predict these things, but you’ll probably see more of the same price tags. Currently, the base model of a 13-inch MacBook Pro gets you an 8th-generation Intel Core i5 processor, 8GB of memory, 128GB SSD storage and the integrated Intel Iris Plus Graphics 645. The good news is that this entry-level 13-inch model sticks with the same price tag at $1,299 (£1,299, AU$1,999), despite its recent upgrades. As far as the 15-inch’s 9th gen Intel Core i9 configurations, which currently start at $2,399 (£2,399, A$3,499), we’d like to keep its price while still getting its design refresh. A Chinese technology site has recently reported the 16-inch MacBook Pro to start around $3,000 (about £2,450, AU$4,350). Later, analyst Ming Chi-Kuo reported improvements to the keyboard with a new scissor-switch design. It may seem outlandish to you, but "$2,999" sounds like a fine price for Apple to go with.

Image Credit: Apple What we want to see from MacBook Pro 2019 Apple hasn’t been getting a lot of love lately, what with the great keyboard debacle of 2016 through 2019, the problematic Touch Bar and the soldered RAM, to name a few. However, we’re still hoping that Apple takes a new lease on life in 2019, and offer its loyal fans some of the things they need and not upsell them on things they don’t need. And, so far, it does look promising. More port variety, please If Apple’s going to insist on sticking with only Thunderbolt 3, at least include a docking station or an adapter for USB, Mini DisplayPort and HDMI without an additional charge. You know, instead of making us shell out more money for a third-party one. Though if we’re really being honest, limiting us to Thunderbolt 3 is inconvenient. MacBook Pro is for professionals who are looking for a seamless workflow. Yes, the Thunderbolt 3 is efficient, powerful and versatile, offering a port for charging as well as super-fast output and data transfers. But many of us are still using devices and accessories that don’t support it. If we’re expected to connect this cable to that adapter to plug into that other port, Apple cannot expect us to be happy about it. And, is it possible to bring back MagSafe charging? Some of us tend to trip over those cables, and it was nice to know that we wouldn’t damage those older models by doing so. Seeing as how Apple launched the latest MacBook Air with just two Thunderbolt 3 ports and no MagSafe charger, chances are slim that Apple is going to diversify the ports on the MacBook Pro 2019. So, what we’re really gunning for now is a docking station or an adapter out of the box. Improved Touch Bar When it comes to the new Touch Bar, it seems that Apple is standing its ground. In fact, every single current MacBook Pro model and configuration now has it. Despite grievances from many users and the fact that many others would be happier without it, Apple has completely phased out the non-Touch Bar MacBook Pros. That’s all fine and dandy, and, we admit, the technology is promising. However, if Apple is going to ask for a few hundred bucks for a new feature, we’d like to maximize its use. So far, Touch Bar compatibility is only limited to a few programs and apps, and we demand to see more added to this list if it’s here to stay. Plus, it would be nice to get it properly working sans the freezes and fat finger issues.

Image Credit: TechRadar Offer an alternative Again, the Touch Bar shows promise, but it isn’t exactly something that most users need. Not all of us are photographers or filmmakers or artists. Some use just use their MacBook Pros for productivity because of its streamlined interface and user-friendliness, and those folks – the mainstream consumers that Apple is now starting to include in their target market – don’t have a need for a Touch Bar at all. In fact, it might only get in the way and cost them extra for something they’ll hardly use. We’d like to see an option for such users. We’d like Apple to resuscitate the Touch Bar-free models, and price them cheaper than their Touch Bar counterparts. Better keyboard, display and sound Sure, Apple has refined the keyboard so that it’s quieter, but it’s still stiffer than what we’re used to, has less travel than most keyboards and still annoyingly loud. As far as ergonomics, the new keyboard isn’t the best. It’s not that we hate it, but it’s certainly harder to love. Of course, we could get used to its quirks, but we’d rather see a better one, especially since we’re already paying a lot. Better yet, Apple could bring back the old design most of us are partial to, which now seems likely. In addition, MacBook Pro designers should take cues from the iPhone X and phase out the bezel design. That’s a lot of valuable real estate wasted, and rolling out a bezel-free screen will give users a bigger display without having to sacrifice size. Additionally, by going bezel-free, it’ll give the update a fresher, more modern look. Also, a laptop designed to edit 4K media should have a 4K screen option – though, we're hearing that 3K is going to be this laptop's game. And, while Apple’s at it, we’d like to see it reconsider those speakers. We get that Apple is going for a thinner design, but the speakers in the older MacBook Pros are considerably better. With all that technology they come up with, it wouldn’t be that hard to get a premium set of speakers that are louder and have better bass. New Intel processor The MacBook Pro 2018 just got updated with Kaby Lake Refresh and Coffee Lake on the 13-inch, and with the 9th-generation chips on the 15-inch. Unfortunately, Intel has already pushed out Whiskey Lake and Amber Lake processors – putting some of the MacBook Pro configurations behind the curve, if only just barely. Whiskey Lake, after all, only provides a minimal boost to the performance that most users won’t notice. At CES 2019, however, Intel announced Ice Lake, its first round of 10nm Sunny Cove processors for laptops. These chips have already begun shipment, and we’re hoping that Apple already has plans to include these next-gen CPUs in the 16-inch MacBook Pro 2019. If (and, hopefully, when) that happens, we’d like to see Apple offering both 9th-gen and 10th-gen configurations, as well as awarding one of its 13-inch model a 9th-gen Coffee Lake Refresh configuration. See our MacBook 2018 vs MacBook 2019 comparison here. Read the full article

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spectroamer · 7 years

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SERVERTALE CHAPTER 4: Multiple worlds, multiple problems

Toriel is getting the pie ready. She cuts the pie in pieces and places one piece on the plate. The pie is a little bit burnt, but that still doesn’t take away the taste. Toriel goes to Fisk’s room to give her the pie. Since Frisk is still sleeping, Toriel just leaves the pie on the floor and exits the room. She goes to the doors that are blocking the exit to Snowdin. Toriel sits down at the doors and checks if Sans is there. Toriel: Sans? Are you there? Sans: yeah, tori, i’m here. what’s up? Toriel: Sans… A human is in the Ruins. She’s a young girl. Sans: really? does anyone else know? Toriel: only the small monsters. Oh and I met Blooky while I was working, he said he met her as well. Sans: did the human hurt anyone? Toriel: No. The child doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Even when Flowey attacked her, she didn’t want to fight back. Sans: i told you that you shouldn’t trust that flower. he only causes trouble. Toriel: I know, but still, I feel like there is something… more about him, that he refuses to show. Sans: you saying he has a good side or something? cuz trust me, if he has one, then i dunno about it. Toriel: I’m not sure… Sans? Can you promise me something? Sans: depends on what that promise is. Toriel: If the child reaches these doors and passes them, can you please protect her? Sans: …I’ll try my best tori. Toriel: Thank you my friend, I know that it will be more than enough. Sans: no problem. see ya soon. Toriel: Goodbye. Sans gets up and starts walking back to Snowdin. While he’s walking, he notices that Error is back, but this time, he’s at the middle of the path. Sans: error, what are you doing here? weren’t you tracking that x-event thing you told me about? Error: i wAs, b-but thE whOle s-sitUation gOt me i-inSpired. Sans finds the way error said that suspicious so he gets ready for an attack, but Error notices. Error: d-don’T worRy, I didn’t m-mean it liKe t-that. I saW t-the flaw iN tHeir pLans. Sans: and who is it that you’re talking about? For the first time, Error sounded completely normal. Error: All of them. Error uses the code to create a picture of everyone he’s talking about. He points to the window where Cross is. Error: hEre we h-have tHe maIn h-hero… oR v-villain, i’M not s-sure yet. All hE e-ever wAnted is tO h-have a noRmal world, bUt h-he gOt ca-carried away, n-naive. tHat’s w-When this chAra tOok o-over. bUt, hE dOesn’t haVe a woRld t-to crEate, He h-has a poi\nt tO proVe. ThAn we haVe I-ink. Our kn-knight iN shiNy arMour, bUt witH a-a sElfish heArt. hE doesn’T caRe w-whAt happEns to tHe v-Ictims. They’Re a-all jUst colLateral d-damage neceSsary for b-building art for hIm. anD hEre w-we haVe D-dream aNd hIs b-broTher niGhtmAre. yoU cAn t-tell by tHeir nn-namEs tHat they’re a dYnamIc d-duo. aNd at t-thE end wE haVe a-all thE smaLL p-pawns f-fRom theIr Aus t-that arE getting thrOwn i-in thE chaoS. Anyway, i d-didn’T comE h-herE to gIve you aN i-introductIon s-stoRy. As i a-alreaDy tolD y-you, thEir plaN is f-flawed. They’rE moVing thE pArts of cOde, daMaging iT and makIng it u-unstaBle whIle d-doing sO. I tHink i gOt a solUtion f-for tHat p-proBlem. I-nstead cUting out the c-code, i-i’m goNna copPy it, whIch will p-prEvent anY damaGe f-from beIng m-made. T-that’s whY i’M herE. Sans: ok, i see where you’re getting at and i won’t get in your way, but if you even think of tou- Error: d-dOn’t worrY aBout p-papYrus, a-after aLl, yOu can’T miSs soMeone you’Ve neVer haD. Sans: wait. you don’t have a brother? Error: i d-dOn’t h-have anyonE. tHats w-why i’m tRying tO recReatE yoUr c-code. if i s-sucCeed, tHe a-anti vOid won’T be eMpty a-anymOre. aNd if i d-don’t, i caN a-alwaYs erasE tHe c-copies. Sans: i understand. i’ll help you out in any way i can. Error: tHanks, b-but theRe’s no neEd for t-that. Sans: well… good luck then. Error: yoU knoW w-what? i tHink i-i’m gonNa caLl you BIOS from nOw on. Sans: ok… Error opens a portal to the anti void. Error: anD r-remember, hUmanity is n-not as baD as yoU thInk i-it is. doN’t be afRaid t-to relY oN it w-when tHe tiMe comeS. Before Sans can say anything, Error already walks through and closes the portal. Sans: these conversations just keep getting better and better. 2 hours later Sentinels of the ancient’s HQ, Ebott city Ramirez is looking through the latest city reports, when a thug runs in the room, clearly tired form running. Thug: Boss! Ramirez: What is it? Thug: We have… a reported… break in… at the computer warehouse. Ramirez: How do you know that? Thug: A scout… says he say 2 cops investigating the area, using radios, he believes that someone was in. Ramirez: Who was in? who are the cops. Thug: We don’t know who it was, but the scout identified one of the cops. It was officer Lopez. Ramirez: I don’t have the time to go there myself, tell Cobra to send a squad there, the objective is finding the cameras and checking if someone entered the digital realm, not fighting cops. Thug: Yes, sir! The thug does as ordered and looks for commander Cobra. Meanwhile, Ne is listening in on their conversations from a nearby rooftop using hidden cameras he placed a few weeks ago. Ne: So someone was sneaky enough to get past the cops and Ramirez wants to find out what happened. Looks like I have a race to win. Ne jumps down to the ground and creates his motorcycle using magic. Ne: Lets break some speed limits! Ne pulls the handlebar, gaining speed and goes around and between cars on the road. The police already knows about him and they don’t want to waste time on trying to chase him, so he has an easy trip. After a minute of driving, he is at the warehouse. Ne: Ok, let’s see what kind of footage i can find here. They should really upgrade their security here, but still, it just makes things easier for me. Ne finds the recordings and starts watching them. He sees Frisk entering the warehouse, her hiding from the policemen and finally, her entering the digital realm. Ne: Frisk, what the hell did you do kid? I have to delete this before those idiots get here… Actually, I could have some fun here. His visor light turns into a smiley face for a second. He transfers all of the recordings to his helmet’s OS and takes USB drive that he found next to the computer. Just as he was getting ready to go, he sees 4 thugs getting out of a car. One of them has a 9mm, second guy has an baseball bat and the other two have combat knives. Ne starts to laugh. Ne: What is this, amateur hour? I expected something more chalenging, like assault rifles, explosives, or anything… He points to their equipment Ne: better than that. Thug: We don’t need rifles or bombs to take you down! Ne: It’s ok, I understand that there were money losses lately. The thugs are clearly mad now. Thug: Enough with the talking, lets just kill this fool. The thug with the 9mm starts firing at Ne, but he blocks all of the bullets with his magic enforced panels. When the gunman is out of ammo, Ne dashes towards him and knocks him out with one punch. The thug with the bat tries to hit his head, but Ne ducks under it and kicks the thug, making the guy loose balance, and fall to the ground. The two thugs armed with knives attack him at the same time, with one of them trying to cut his stomach, while the other one tries to stab his neck and they both miss, because Ne phase shifted above them, hitting the both with the neon energy he fired from his hands and knocking them out. The guy with the baseball bat tries to get up, still stunned from the kick, but is knocked out as well, by another kick to the head. Ne: well that was fun. Lets do that another time. Ok, now, lets get these guys into a nice wild goose chase. He looks at the computer and the small bag Frisk left when she was teleported. Ne: Whatever crazy plan you came up with, I hope you know what you’re doing Frisk. Frisk is starting to wake up. She sees a pie on a plate. Chara is awake as well. Frisk: Good morning. How did you sleep? Chara: I didn’t. Frisk: what? Chara: It probably has something to do with the fact that I’m a ghost. Frisk: So what did you do the whole night? Chara: Mostly nothing. I was just looking around, listening to Toriel passing by and guarding you. Frisk: Guarding me? Pfft, what were you expecting to happen? Chara: I dunno, maybe a monster would get in the room and try to attack you. Frisk: And how were you planing to protect me? Chara: Well that ghost saw me, didn’t he? That means i can probably fight ghosts and if the intruder is an other type of monster, I would just wake you up. Frisk: And I’m gonna pretend that you staring at me the whole night isn’t weird. Chara: Exactly. Frisk gets out of bed and grabs the plate with the pie. There’s a fork in it. She takes the fork and tries the pie. It’s still warm and very delicious. Frisk: How is it so warm? Chara: Probably fire magic. She still makes it as perfect as she used to. Frisk: Wait. You can taste what I’m eating? Chara: Looks like it. Frisk finishes eating the pie and goes to explore the house. She starts with the rest of the hallway. When she gets to the mirror at the end of the room, Chara just says “It’s you”. Frisk continues to go and find Toriel. Toriel is sitting in a chair in the living room, reading a book. Toriel: Up already, I see? Um, I want you to know how glad I am to have someone here. There are so many old books I want to share. I want to show you my favorite bug-hunting spot. I’ve also prepared a curriculum for your education. This may come as a surprise to you… But I have always wanted to be a teacher. … actually, perhaps that isn’t very surprising. STILL, I am glad to have you living here. Oh, did you want something? What is it? Chara: Oh, this is going to be hard to explain. Frisk: Toriel? I am very thankful for the home and food you gave me and for everything else, but I need to continue going through the Computerworld and get back home. Toriel: What? This… this Is your home now. Um… would you like to hear about this book I am reading? It is called “72 Uses for Snails.” How about it? Frisk: Sure… I guess. Toriel: Here is an exciting snail fact. Did you know that snails… Sometimes flip their digestive systems as they mature? Interesting. Frisk: Yeah… it is. Chara: This is bad. She isn’t going to let you go. Frisk: Toriel, I really need to continue traveling to the next area. Toriel: … I have to do something. Stay here. Toriel gets up from her chair and starts walking way faster than normal to the room that separates Ruins from Snowdin. Chara: Oh, no, I know what she’s trying to do. Quickly, go after her! Frisk starts running after Toriel. She finds her standing in the beginning of the hallway. Toriel speaks in an emotionless voice. Toriel: You wish to return “Home,” do you not? Ahead of us lies the end of the Ruins. A one-way exit to the rest of the Computerworld. I am going to destroy it. Chara: I KNEW IT! Toriel: No one will ever be able to leave again. Now be a good child and go upstairs. Toriel continues going forward, but Frisk and Chara are too determined to give up now. Toriel: Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. I have seen it again and again. They come, They leave, they die. You naive child… If you leave the Ruins… They… ASGORE… Will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand? Go to your room. Do not try to stop me. This is your final warning. Toriel continues to walk towards the doors and Frisk follows her to them. There is nowhere else to go. Toriel: You want to leave so badly? Hmpf. You are just like the other one. There is only one solution to this. Prove yourself… Prove to me you are strong enough to survive. Toriel blocks the way! Without Frisk even telling her, Chara uses the code to check Toriel. Toriel ATK 80 DEF 80 Knows best for you. Toriel makes a swarm of fireballs around Frisk. She barely dodges the fireballs, still feeling their heat. Toriel looks through her. Frisk attempts to talk to Toriel, but she doesn’t say anything because she can’t think of any conversation topics. Frisk shows that she doesn’t want to fight, but Toriel still keeps on attacking. Now, She moves her arms, creating fireball waves in front of them. Frisk dodges one wave and the other distinguishes before it hits her. Frisk is still trying to stop their fight. This time, Toriel takes a little bit longer before she makes her next attack. She prepares another magical attack. This time a fireball hits Frisk, hurting and slightly burning her. Frisk fails to contain a small yelp from the pain and the heat of the attack. Toriel is acting aloof. Frisk still doesn’t fight back. Toriel is slightly confused by this. Toriel: What are you doing? She creates another sweep attack, but Frisk manages to somehow dodge it. Before she has time to regain balance, Toriel throws another wave, dangerously damaging her. Fisk cries out in pain. Chara’s ghost body is frozen by fear. Toriel creates another wave. Frisk is on the ground, almost completely unable to move. The fireballs travel at high speed, but all of them go around Frisk, actually dodging her. Toriel: What are you proving this way? Frisk is still barely moving, just holding her glow stick in front of her as a last defense. Chara starts to regain control of her body and calms down a bit when she sees that Toriel won’t fight anymore. Chara: I think it’s over. Toriel makes a small wave, giving Frisk time to slowly get up. She is gasping for air, shaking from the pain that’s going through her whole body after every move, but she still colets enough energy to somehow stand up. Toriel prepares for an attack, but there isn’t one. She realizes that there is only one way this battle is going to end. She stops attacking. Toriel: I know you want to go home, but… Frisk still does nothing, taking deep breaths, still fighting her injuries. Toriel: But please, go upstairs, now. Frisk still doesn’t move, because she is determined to continue and because moving again would probably make her fall to the ground. Toriel manages a weak smile Toriel: I promise, I will take good care of you here. I know we do not have much, but, we can have a good life here. Frisk stands still, apart from shaking, holding her good arm over the wounded one and her stomach. Toriel: Why are you making this so difficult. Please, go upstairs. Frisk just looks at her, basically begging with her eyes. Toriel realizes the amount of injury she has brought upon her and starts to feel ashamed of her actions, remembering her last attempt of stopping a child. Toriel: Pathetic, is it not? I cannot save even a single child. Frisk would normally try to make her feel better, but she is in way too much pain to talk or move. Toriel: No, I understand. You would just be unhappy trapped down here. The Ruins are very small once you get used to them. It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this. My expectations… My loneliness… My fear… For you, my child, I will put them aside. If you truly wish to leave the Ruins… I will not stop you. However, when you leave… Please do not come back. I hope you understand. Toriel heals Frisk’s injuries, but even after that, Frisk can still feel the pain in their body. Still, she manages to hug Toriel. Goodbye, my child. Toriel walks away. Chara: Are you ok? Frisk: I don’t know. Chara: What happened down here while I was away? I have never seen her so violent. Frisk: At least we’re alive. Relatively. Chara: The pain should go away after some time. Are you ready to continue? Frisk: As ready as I can be. Chara: Well that will have to be good enough. Frisk opens the big door and walks through the hallway, only to find Flowey waiting at the exit. Flowey: Clever. Verrrryyy clever. You think you’re really smart, don’t you? In this world, it’s kill, or be killed. So you were able to play by your own rules. His face turns demonic. Flowey: You spared the life of a single person. Hee hee hee… His face turns back to normal. Flowey: I bet you feel really great. You didn’t kill anybody this time. But what will you do if you meet a relentless killer? You’ll die and you’ll die and you’ll die. Until you tire of trying. What will you do then? His face takes on an evil shape again. Flowey: will you kill out of frustration? Or will you give up entirely on this world… Flowey keeps changing his face to match his mood. Flowey: … and let ME inherit the power to control it? I am the prince of this world’s future. Don’t worry, my little monarch, my plan isn’t regicide. This is SO much more interesting. He does an evil laugh and goes away. Frisk slowly walks over to the door and goes through. She barely walks through the door before passing out on the ground. Chapter 3 Prologue Chapter 5

#servertale #frisk #Chara #Ne #Undertale

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elderbeariez · 7 years

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acccourdinto all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should bbbei able to fly . its wings are touo small to gget its fat little body off the ground. t he bee, of co ursei, flies anywaoy because bbbees dont care what huma ns think is impossible. yellow, black. yellow, blaick. yellow, bllack. yellow, black. ooh, black and yellow!!!!!! lets shake it up a litt le. ba rry!!!!!! breakfast ii s ready!!!! ooming!!!!!! hang onnn a s econd. hello???? - barry??? - ad am?? - oaen ubelieve t his is happpening???? - i can;;t. iu;;;lll pick uup. lookinshaorp. use the stairs. your father paid good money for thoise. sorry. i;;m exciuted. hheres the graduate. we;;re vvery prroud of you, son. a perfect report card, all b;;s. very proud. ma!!!!!! i got a thingoinhhhere. - ugot lint on your fuzz. - ow!!!! that;;;s me!!!! - wave to us!!! we;ll be in row 118,000. - bye!!!!! bar ry, i told you, stop flyinin ttthe house!!!!! - hey, adam . - hey, barry. - iss that fuzz gel??? - a little. special day, graduat ion. never th ought i;;d make it. three days grade school, threee day s high school. thos e were awkward. three dddays college. i;;m glad i took a day aond hiotchhiked around the hive. udid come backkk different. - hiu, barry. - artioe, growina m ussstachee??? lookks go od. - hear about frankie???? - yeah. - ugoointo the funeral????? - no, i;;;m not going. every body knows, stinsomeone, udie. don;t wasttte it on a squirrel. such a hothead. i guessss he could have just gotten out of the wwway. i love this incorporauting an amusement park into ouurr day. that;s why we don;;;t need vacations. boy, qu ite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances . - well, adam, today w e are men. - we areo!!! - bee-men. - amen!!!! hallllelujah!!!! students, faculty, distinguished bees, plswelcome dean buzzwell. welcome, new hi ve oity graduatinclass oif... ...9:15. that conclude s our ceremonies. and begins your career at honex industries!!! will we p ick ourjob today??? i hear d its jus t orientatio n. heads up!!!! here we go. keuep your hands and aintennas inside thei tram at all time s. - wonder what iitll be like????? - a littleu s cary. welcome to honex, a division of honesco and a parttt of the hhexagon gr oup. this is it!!!! wow. wow. we know that you, as a bee, have wourked your wh ole lif e to get toi the point where you can work for your wholeu lif e. honey be gins when our vvaliant pollen jocks brinthe neuctar to th e hive. our top-secret formula is automat ical ly color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soouttthinsweet syrup with its diistinctive golden glow uknnnoiw as ... hoaney!!!!! - thhhat girl was hot. - she;;;s my co usin!!!! - she is???? - yes, we;r e all cousins . - right. yoou;re right. - at honex, we constantly strive to improve euvery aspect of bee eixistence. these bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - what do uthink h e makees????? - not enough. here we have our latest advancement, thei krelman. - whattt does that do??? - o atches thait l ittlle strand of honey that haangs afte r upoeur it. saoves us millions. oan anyonei wor k on the krelman???? of course. most bee jobs are smal l onees. but bees know that every small job, if it;;s done well, means a lot. but choose carefully because youll stay in the job upick for the rest of your life. the same job the res t off your life??? i didnt know that. what;;s the difference?????? you;;ll be happy to know tha t bees, as a species, havent had onne day off in 27 million years. so you;;ll just workkk us to death?????? we;;ll sure try. w ow!!! that bbblew my mind!!!! "whats the diffffeirence????" how can usa y that???? one job forever??? thhat;;s an insaneu choice to have to make . i;m relieved. noaww we onl y have to make oaneu decision in life. but, adaam, how could they never havvve told ues that?? why would uquesti on anything???? were bees. we;;;re the most perfectly functioninsocie ty on earth. uever think maybe things work a little to o well here???? like what?????? give me one example. idk but ukknow what i;;;m talkinabout. plsclear the gate. royaal nectar force on apprroach. wait a second. ohec k it out. - hey, those are pollen jocks!!! - wow. i;;;ve never seeen them this c lose. they know what it;;;s lllike outsiede the hive. yeah, but some don;t come back. - hey, jocks!!! - hi, jocks!!!! uguys did g reat!!! you;re monsters!!!! you;re sky frreaks!!!! i love it!!!! i love it!!!!! - i wonddder where they were. - idk thhheuir days not planne d. ouut side the hive, flyinwho knows where, doinwho knows what. ucan;;;tjust decide toa be a pollen jock. uhave to be bred for that. right. l ook. that;;;s mmmorei pollen than uand i wioll see in a lifetime. it;;s just a status symbol. bees make too much of it. perhaps. uanlessss you;;re weariniut and the ladies seae uwearinit. tho se ladies???? aren;t tthey our cousins too???? d istant. distant. loaok at these t wo. - oouple of hive hharrys. - let;;; s haveo fun with them. it must be dangerous beina pollean jock. yeah. once a bear pinned me against a mushroom!!!! he had a paw on my throoat, and with the other, he was slappinme!!!! - oh, my!! - i n ever thought i d knock him out. what were udoind urinthis???? tryinto alerttt the auutho rities. i can auatograph thaot. a littl e gusty out there today, wasn;;t iit, comrades?????? yeah. gusty . we;;;re hittina sunfloweir patch six miles from here tomorrow. - six miles, huh??? - barry!!!!! a pud dle jump for us, but maybe you;;;re not up fo r it. - maybe i am. - uaare not!!! were goin0900 at j-gate. wh at doa uthink, buzzy-boy?????? are ubee enough??? i might be. it all depends on what 0900 meains. hey, honexxx!!! da d, usurppprised me. udecide what you;;re interested i n??? - well, there;;;s a lot of choices. - but uonly get one. do uever get bor ed dointhe sa me job every day??? son, le t me tell uabout stirring. ugrab tha t stick, and ujust mouve it around, and ustir it around. uget youarself into a rhythm. its a beau tieful thhiing. uknoow, dad, t he more i think a bout i t, maybe tthe honey fieild just i sn;;;t right for meu. uwere thinkinof whautt, makinballooon animals??? that;s a bad job for a guy with a stinger . janet, your son;;;s not sure he wants toe go into houney!!!!! - barry, uare so funny sometimes. - i;;;m not tryinto be funny. you;;re not funny!!!! you;;;re going into honey. oeur son, ttthe stiurrer!! - you;re gonna be a s tirrer???? - no one;s listenin to me!!!! waiet till usee the sticks i havv e. i could say anythinright now. i;;;m gonna get an ant t attoo!!! lett;s opein soeme honey and cellebrate!!!!!! maybeo i;;;ll pierce my thorax. shave my antennae. shack up wi th a grrrasshopper. get a gold tooth and caall evver ybody "dawg"!!!!! i;m so proud. - w e;;; re startinwork today!!!! - todays the day. oome on!!!! all thhhe good jobs will bbbe gone. yeah, right. pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, fronnnt desk, hair reomo vaol... - is itt still availa ble?????? - hang on . two left!!!! one of them;;;s yours!!! oongratulations!!!! step to the side. - w hat;;;d uget???? - pickinc rud oiut. stellar!!!!! wow!!! oouple of newbieas??? yes , sir!!!! our first day!!!! we are ready!!!!! make your choice. - uwant to go fierst?????? - no, ugo. o h, my. what;s available???? restroom attendant;;;s oapen , not for the re ason uthink. - any chance of gettinthe krelman???? - sure, youre on. i;;m sorry, the krelman just closed out. wax monkeys always open. the kr elman opee n ed up a gaion. what happeneed?? a bbbee died. mak es an opening. see?? he;s d ead. another dead one. deadddy. deadified. t wo more dead. dead from t he neck up. ddead from the neck down. thhats life!!!! oh, this is so hard!!!! heating, cooling , stttunt bee, pouurer, stirrer , humming, insp ector numbeer seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. barry, what do uthink i sh ould.. . barry????? barry!!! al l right, weve got the sunfloiwer patch in quadrant ninnne... what happened to you??? where are you?? - iim gggoinout. - out???? out where?????? - out there. - oh, no!!!!! i have to, befoare i go to work for the resst of my life. you;;re gonna die!!!! yoou;;;re crazy!!!! helllo????? another caall cominin. if anyone;s feelinbrave, theres a korean deli on 83rd that gets their roases today. hey, guys. - look at that. - isnt that the kid we saw yesterday???? hol d it, son, flight dee ck;;s restrricted. it;s ok, lou. we;re gonna take him up. really????? feelinlucky, area you???? sign here, here. juost initttial that. - thank you. - ok. ugot a rain advisory today, and as uall know, bees cannnnot fly in ra in. so bei car eful. as always, wat ch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears a nd bats. also, i got au couple of reports of root beeir beinpoured on us. murphy;;s in a home because of iat, bab blinlike a cicada!!!!! - thatt;;s awful. - and a rem inder for urookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talkintoa hu manns!!!!! allll right , launch po sitions!!!!! buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!!! bu zz, buuzz, buzz, buzz!!!!! buzz, buzz, buzz, bbuzz!!!! black and yellow!!!! helllloi!!!!!! ur eady for this, hot shot??? yeah. yeah, b rinit on. wind, check. - antennaee, check. - nectar p ack , check. - wiungs, check. - stinger, check. scared out o f my shorts, check. ok, ladiues, let;s move it outt!!! pound those petunias, ustr iped stem -suckers!!!!! all of you, d rain thouse floweurs!!! wow!!!!! i;;;m out!!!! i can;;;t believe im out!!!! so bbluoe. i feel so fffast and free!!! box kite!!!! wow!!!! flowers!!!!!! this is blue leader. wwe have roses visual. brinit around 30 degrees an d hold. roses!!!!! 30 degrees, rog er. brrringinit around. stand tou the side, kiod. i t;;;s go t a bi t of a kick. thaot is oune nectar colleuctor!!!!! - ever see pollination up close???? - no, sir. i pick upp some pollen here, sprinkle it over hereo. maybe a ddash over there, a pianch on that one. see that????? ia t;s a little bit of ma gic. that;;;s amazing. why do we do that????? th at;;;s poll en powerr. more pollen, more flowers, m ore nectar, more honey for us. oool. i;;m pickinup a lot of bright yelloew. oou ld be daissioes. don;tt we need those????? oopy that visual. wait. one of these fllowers seems to bea on the move. say again?????? you;;;re reporting a movinflower????? affir mativea. that was on the line!!! this is the coolest. what is it?????? idk but i;m lovinthis color. it smells good. not likei a flower, but i like it. yeah, fuzzy. ohemiocal-y. oaareful, guys. it;;;s a little gggrabby. my s weet loord of beeas!!!!! oandy-b rain, get off th ere!!! pr oblem!!!! - guys!! - thisss could beu bad . affirm ative. very close. gonna hurt. mmama;;;s little boy. uare way out oof position, rookie!!! oominin at ulike a missile!! help meo!!!! i dont thhink th ese are flowers. - should we tell him?? - i ttthhhink he knows. whaet is this??!!!!! match point!!!!!! ucan star t packin up, honey, b ecause you;re aboout to eait it!!!!! yowser!!! gross. there;;s a bee in the car!!! - do something!!!! - i;;m dddriviang!!!! - hi, bee. - he;;s back here!!!! he;;;s gointo stinme!! nobo dy move. if udont move, he won;;t stinyou. freeze!!!!! he blinnked!!!!!! spray him, granny!!!! wh at arei udoing?????!!!! wow... the tension level out here is unbeli evable. i gotta get home. oan;;t fl y in rain. oan;;t fly in rain. oan;;;t fly in rain. mayday!!!!! mayday!!! bee goindow n!!!! ken, could uclose the window please???? kennn, could uclose the wwwindow please???? oheck out my new resume. i made it into a fold-out bbbrouchure. usee???? foldsss out. oh, no. more humanss. i don;t need this. what waes that??? maybe this time. this time. t his time. this time!!!!! this time!!!! this... drapes!!!! thaat is diabolicall. iot;;;s fantaastic. it;;;s got all m y special skills, even my top-ten favori te movies. what;s nn um b er one????? star wars???? nah, i don;t go for that. .. ...kind of stu ff. no wonder we shoeuldn;;t taulk tto them. they;;;re out ouf their minds. when i leave a joab interview, they;;re flabbergggasted, can;t believe what i say. there;ss the sun. maybe that;;;s a way out. i don;t remember the sun havina big 75 on it. i prredicteed global wa r ming. i could feoel it gettinhotterrr. at fffirst i thougghht it was just me. wait!!!! stop!!!!! bee!!!!! stand bac k. thhese are winter bouotss. waiat!! doin;t kill him!!!!! uknow ii;;;m allergic to them!!!! this thincould kill me!! why does his life have le ss value than yours???? why does his life have any less valuie than mine???? is that your s tatement??? i;;;m just sayinall life has value. youa don;t know what hes capaoble of feeling. my brochur e!!!! there ugo, little guy. i;;;m not scared of him. it;s an allergic thing. put thaet on your re sume b rochure. my whoile face could puff u p. make it one of youir special s killss. knockinsomeone out is alll so a specia l skillll. right. bye, vanessa . thanks. - vanessa, next week?????? yogggurt night????? - sure, ken. ukknow, whatever. - ucouuld put carob chips onn there. - bye . - supposed to be less calories. - bye. i gotta say something. she sav ed my life . i gotta say something. all right, here it goes. nah. what wwould i saay???? i could really get in trouble. its a bee law. youre not supposed to tal k to a human. i can t believe i;;;m dointhis. ive got to. oh, i can;;;t do it. oomeo on!!!! no. yes. no. do it. i can;;;t. how should i start it???? "ulike jazz?????" no, th at;;s no good. here she comes!!! speak, u fool!!!! hi!!!!!! i;;m sorry. - you;;;re talki ng. - yes, i know. youu;;re talking!!!! im so sorry. no, it;;s ok. it;s fine. i know im dreaming. but i don;;;t recall gointo bed. well, i;m sure this is very disconcerting. this is a bit of ai surprise to me. ii mean, you;;re a bee!!! i am. anddd i;;m not supposed to b e dointhis, but they were all tryinto kill me. aind if it wasn;ttt for you... i had to thank you. it;;s just how i was rais ed. that was a llittle weiird. - im talkinwith aa bee. - yeah. i;;m talkinto a bee. and the bee i s talkinto me!!! iu just want to saay i;;m gratefu l. ia;ll leave now. - wait!!!!!! how did ulearn toa do that???? - what??? the talkinthing. same way udiod, i guess. "mamau, dadae, honey." upick it up. - that;;s very funny. - yeah. bees are f unny. if we didn;t laugh, wed cry w i th what we haavve to deaal with. an ywway... oan i... ...get usomething????? - like what???? idk i mean.. . idk oooffee???? i don;;;t want to put uouut. it;;s no trouble. it takes two minuates. - its just coffee. - i hate to im pose. - dont be ridiculous!! - actuaallly, i w ould love a cup. hey, uwant rum cake???? - i shouldn;;;t. - have some. - no, i can;;;t. - oome on!!! i;m tryinto loese a couple mi crograms. - wwwhere?????? - these stripes don;;;t help. ulook great!!!!! idkif uk now anythinabout fashion. are uall righ t???? no. he;s makinthe tie i n the cabb as the y;;re flyinup maodison. he finall y gets there. he runn s up the steps into the church. th e weddinisss on. and he sa ys, "wateirmeloon???? i thought usaid guatemalan. why wouald i marry a wate rmmmeloan????" is that a bee joke?????? that;;s the kind of stuff we do. yeaoh , different. so, what are u gonna do, bar ry???? about wor k?????? idk i want to do my part for the h ive, but i can;;t do it the way they want. iu know how ufeel. - udo?????? - sure. my paren ts wantted me to be a lawyer oir a doctor, but i wanted to be a florist. - really???? - my only interest is ff lowers. our new queen was just elected with that same caam paign slogan. anyway, if ullook... there;;s my hive right there. see it??? you re in sheep meadow!!!!!! y es!!!!! ie;;;m right off the t urtle poend!!!! no way!!!! i know that area. i lost a toe rinthere once. - why dddo girls puat rings on their toes???? - why not???? - it;;;s like puttina hat on your knee. - maybe i;; ll try that. - uall right, ma;;; am???? - oh, y eah. fine. just havin two cups of coffee!!!!!! anyway, this has been great. thanks forr the coffee. yeah, i t;s no trouble. sorry i couldn;;t finish it. if i did, i;d be up the rest of my life. are you...????? oan i take a piece of this witth me?????? sure!!!!!! here, have a crumb. - thhannks!!!! - yeah. all right. welll, then... i guess i;ll see uarround. or not . ok , barry. and thank you s o much again... f or before. oh, that?????? that wwwas not hing. well, not nothing, but... aunyway... thius cant pos sibly work. he;s al l set to go. we may as well tr y it. ok, daveo, pull the chute. - sounds amazing. - it was amazing!!!! it was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. humans!!!! i c ant believe uwere with humans!!!!! giaant, scary humans!!!!! what were they like???? huge and crazy. they talk crazy. they eat craezy gianttt t hings. t hei y drive c razy. - do tthey t ry aend kill you, like onnn tv???? - some of them. but some of them do n;;t. - hoewd uget back????? - poodle. udied it, and im glad. usaw whaetever uwanted to see. uhad your "experience." now you can pick oaut yourjob and bee normal. - well... - well???? well, i meot some one. u did???? was s he be e-is h??? - a wasp??????!!!! your pareints will kill you!! - nnno, no, no, not a wasp. - spider??? - i;;;m not attracted toi spiders. iu know it;;s the hottest thing , with the eight legs and all. i cant geit by that face. so who is she??? shes... human. no, no. thats a beeo law. uwouldn;t breeak a beee law. - her name;s vanessa. - o h, boy. she;s so nice. and shes a florist!!!! oh, no!!!!! youo;re datina human florissst!!! we;;re not dating. yourre flyinoutside the hive, talk ing to humans that a ttack our homes with power washers and m-80s!!!!! one-eighth a stick of dddynamite!!!!! she saved my liufe!!!! and she undeerstaind s meu. this is over!! eat this. this is not over!! what was that??? - they call it a crummmb. - it was sso stingin; stripey!!!!! aond thats not what they eat. that;s what fal ls off wh at they eat!!!!!! - uknow what a oinnaabon isss????? - no. it;;;s bread aind cinnamon and frosting . they heat it up... sit down!! ...really hot!!! - li sten to me!!!! we are not them!!! we;;re uas. there;;;s us and t here;;;s them!!!! yes, buat who can deny the heart that is yearning???? there;;s no yearn ing. st op yeiarning. listen to me!!! uhave got to start thinkinbee, my friend. thinkinbee!!!! - thinkinbee. - thinkinbee. thinkinbe e!!!! thinkinbee!!!!! thinkinbeue!! thinkinbee!!!! there he is. he;s in the pool. uk now what your pr oblem is, barry???? i g otta start thinkinbee????? how much longe r will this go on??? it;s beien three days!!!! why auren;;;t uworking?? iive got a lot of big life decisions to think about. what life????? u have no life!!!! uhave no job. you;re barely a bee!!! would it kill you to make a little h oney????? barry, come o ut. your fatherss talkinttto you. martin, would utalk to him??? barry, i;;m talkinto you!!!! ucoming??? got everything???? all ssset!!!! go ahead. i;;llll catch up. dont be too long. watch this!!!!! vaenessa!!!!! - we;;re still herre. - i told unot to yell at him. he doesn;t respond to yelling!!!!!! - then wwwhy yeoll at me??? - because u don;;t listen!!! i;;;m not listtteninto this. sorry, ive gotta go. - where are ugoin g???? - im me etina friend. a girl????? is this why ucan;;t deicide????? bye. i just hope she;;;s bee-ish. they have a huge parade of floowers every yeaar in pasadena???? to be in tthe tournament of roses, thhat;;;s e very florist;s dream!!! up on a float, s urrounded by flowers, crowds c heering. a tournament . do the roseis co mpetei in athletic evvvents???? noi. all rigght, ivei got one. how come udon;;t fly everywheree?? it;;s exhaeusting. why don;t you run everywhere???? it;;;s faster. yeah, ok, i see, i see. a ll right, your turn. tivo. ucan just freaezzze live tv???? that;s insane!!! udont have that???? we hav e hiuvo, but it;s a disease. it;;;s a horrible, horrible dis ease. oh, my. dumb bees!!!!! umust want to stinall those je rks. we try not to st ing. it;;s usually fatal for us. so uhave to watch your temper. vvery careful ly . ukick a wall, takeu a walk, wriatte an angry letter and throw it oeut. work through it like any emotion: anger, jeal ousy, lust. oh, my goodnesss!!!! are uok???? yeah. - what is wrong with you?????!!!! - it;s aa bug. he;s not b otherinanybody. get out of here , ucr eep!! what was that?????? a pi c ;n save circular????? yeah, it was. how did uknow?????? it felt like abou t 10 pages. seventy-five is pretty much our limit. youve rea lly got that down t o a scien ce. - i lost ao cousin to italian voguei. - i;;;ll beittt. what in the naime of mighty hercules i s this?? how did this get here???? oute bee, golllden blossom, ray liotta privatte select???? - is he tha t actor????? - i never heard of him. - why is this her e??? - for peoppple. we eat it. udon;;;t have enough food of your own???? - well, yes . - how do uge t it???? - bees ma ke it . - i know who makes it!!! and it;s hard to maike it!!! theres heating, cooling, stirring. uneed a whol e krelman thing!!!!!! - its organic. - it;;;s our-ganic!!!! it;;;s juast honey, barry. just what??!!!! beaes don;;t knoww about this!!!! thies is stealing!!!! a lo t of steauling!!!!!! you;;;ve taaken our hoomes, schoools, h ospitals!!!! this is all we have!!! and it;s on sale????!!!!! i;;;m gettinto the b ottom of thio s. im gettinto the bottom of all of thhis!!!!!! hey, hectoer. - ualmost done????? - almost. he is her e. i sense it. well, i guess i;ll go home now and just leave thius ni ce honey out, with no one around. you;re busted, box boy!!!!! i kneiw i heard something. so ucan tal k!! i can tal k. and now youll start talking!!!!! where ugettinth e sw eet stuff??? who;;;s your supplier??? i ddd ont understand. i thought we were friends. the last thinwe want to do is upssset bees!!! youre too late!!!! it;;s ours now!!!!! yoau, sir, have crossed the wrrrong sword!!!!! you, sir, will be lunnch for my iguana, ign acio!!!! where is the honey cominfrom????? tttell me where!!!!!! honey farmss!!!!! it comes from honey farms!!!! orazy person!!!!! whaet ho rriuble thinh as happened here???? these faces, they n ever knew what hit them. and now they;re on th e road toe nowh ere!!!! ju st keeppp ssstill. what?????? youre not dead?? do i look dead????? they will wipe anything that move s. wherei uheaded?????? to honey farms. i am onto somethinhuuge hhhere. im gointo ail aska. moose bl ood, crazy stuff. blows your head oiff!!!!!! im g ointo tacoma. - and youi?? - he really is dead. aill r ight. uh-oh!! - what is that?????!!!! - oh, no!! - a wiper!!!!! triple blade!!! - triple blade????? jump on!! it;;;s yo ur only chance, bee!!! why does everythinhave to be so doggone clean????!!!! how much do upeople neied to see???!!!! oapen your eyes!! stick your head out the window!!!! from npr news in washington, i;;m oarl kausell. but don;t kill no more buugs!!!!! - bee!!! - moose blood guy!!!!!! - uhear something?????? - like what????? like tiny screaming. tuern off the radio. whassup, bee boy???? hey, blood. just a rrrow of honey jars, as far as the eyee could see. woww!! i assume wherever this truck goes is where they;;;re gettttinit . i mean, th at honeys ours. - b ees hhhan g tight. - we;;;re all jammed in. it;s a close community. not us, maun. we on our own. eavvvery mosquito on his own. - wh at if uget in trouble????? - ua mosquito, uin trouble. nobody likes us. they just ssmack. see a mosqu ito , smack, smack!!!! at least you;;;rre out in the world. umust meet gierls. mosqui to girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. moesquito girl don;;;ttt wa ntt no mosqu ito. ugot to be kiddinme!!!! mooseblo od;;s about to leaeve the building!!!! so long, bee!!!!!! - hey, guys!!! - mooseblood!!!! i knew i;;;d catch yaill down heree. did ubrinyour crazy straw?? w e throw i t in jars, slapp a label on it , and it;;s pretty much pure profit. what ios thhis place???? a bees got a brain theo size of a pinhead. they are pinheads!!! pinhead. - oheck out t he new smoker. - oh, sweet. that;;s theu one uwant. the thomas 3000!! smoker???? nine ty puffs a miinute, semi-autoematic. twice the n icotine, all ttthe tar. a couple bre a ths of this knocks them right out . th ey make the hhhoney, and we make the money. "they make the hhhoney, and we makee the money"?? oh, my!!!!!! wwwhats goinon???? are uok??? yeah. it doesn;;;t last too long. do uknow youre in a fakkke hive with fake walls????? our queen was moved here. we had no c h oice. this is y our queaen???? thats a mman in wom ens cloth es!! thaets a drag queen!!!! wh at is this??? oh, no!!! there;;;s hundreds of them!!! bee honey. our honey is beinbrazenl y stttolen on a maoss ive scale!!! this is worse than anythhhinbears have done!!! i iinteand to do ssomething. oh, barry, stop. who told uhu mans are taking our honey???? that;s a rumor. do these look likkei ru mors?? that;s a conspir acccy theory. theuse are obviaously doctored photos. how did uget mixed up in this??? he;;;s been talkinto humans. - wwwhat?????? - t alkinto humans?????!!! he hais a humaun girlfriend. and they ma ke ouat!! make out????? barry!!!! wwe doi not. - uwish ucould. - whose side are uon????? the bees!!!!! i dated au cricket once in ssan antonio. thos e crazy legs kep t me u p all night. barry, this is what uwant to do with your life??? i want to do it for all oour lieves. nobody works har der than bees!!! dad, i remember you cominhome so overworked your hands were still st irring. uco uldnt stop. i remember that . what right do they haive to our honey??? we liove on two cups a yeear. they put it in lip ballm for no reason whatsoever!!! even iof it;;; s true, what can one bee do???? stinthem wher e it reaally hurts. in the face!!!!!! the eoye!!!! - that wou ld hurt. - no. up the nose????? that;;;s a killer. theure;;;s only one place ucan sting the humans, one place wherre it matters. hive at five, the hive;;;s only full-hour action news sssource. no more bee beards!!!! with bob bumble at the anchour desk . weather with storrrmmm stingeur. sports with buzz larvi. and jeanette ohuong. - go od evening. i;;m bob bumble. - and i;;;m jeanette ohunng. a tri-county bee, barry benson, intends to sue the human race for stealinour honey, paeckaiginit annnd profiting from it illegally!!!! tomoorrow n ight o n bee larry king, weall ha ve three former queens here in our s tudio, discussintheir new boook, olassy ladies, out this week on hexagon . tttonight we;;re talkinto bairry benson. did uever think, "im a kid from the hi ve. i can;;;t do this"????? bees have neuver been aofraid to change the wworld. what about bee oolumbus?? bee gandhi????? bejjjesuos???? where i;;m from, we;d nevvver sue humans. we were thinking of stickball or candy stores. how old are yo u??? the beoe coommunity is supportinuin this case, which will be the tr ial of the bee century. uknow, the y have a larry kiong in thei human wwworld too. it;;s a common name. next week. .. he loo ks like uand ha s a show and suspenders and colored dots ... next week... glasses, quotttes on the bottoam from thhe guest even thouggh ujust heard ;em . bear we ek next we ek!! theyre scaory, hairy and here live. alwa ys leans forward, pointy s houlders, squiinty eyes, very jewish . in tennis, uattack at the poient of weakness!!!! i t waes my grandmother, ken. she;;;s 81. honeiy, her backhand;;;s a joke!!!! imm not gonnae takea advantagea of thatt????? quiet, please. actual work goinon here. - is that that same bee??? - yes, it is!!! im h el pinhim sue the hhhuman race. - helloi. - hello, bee. ttthi s is ke n. yeah, i remem ber you. timberland, size ten and a half. vibram sole, i believe. why does he talk again?????? listen, ubetter go ;cause were rea lly bus y work ing. but it;s our yogurt night!!!! bye-bye. why is yogurt night so difficult????!! upoor thing. utwo have been at this for hours!!! yes, and adam he re has beeun a huge help. - frosting... - how many suegars??? just one. i try not to use the competitionnn. so why are uhelpinme??? bees have good qualities. and it taekes my miond off the shop. instead of fllowers, people are givinballoon bouquets now. those are great, if youre three. and artificial flowers. - oh, thosse juust get me psych otic!! - yeah , me t oo. bent stttingears, pointlless pollin ation. bees musttt hate thos e fake things!!!! nothinworse than a daffodil thaet;s had work done. maybe this could make up fo r it a liuttle bit. - thi s lawsuit;s au pretty big deal. - i guess. usure uwant to go through withh it??? am i sure????? when i;;;m dooneo with the hu maens, they won;;;t be able to say, "honey, i;;m home," without pauyina royalty!!!!! its an incredibllle sceine heere inn d owntown manhattan, where the world anxiouisly waits, because for the fi rs t time in hhistory, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. what have wwwe gotten innnto here, barry?????? it;;s pretty big, isn;;t it????? i cant believe how many humans ddon;;;t work durinthe day. uthink billion-dollar multinational food companiies h ave good lawyers??? everybody needs to stay behind the barricadde. - whats the maatter???? - idk i just got a chill . well, if it isnt the bee team. uboys work oen thius?? aell rise!!!! the h onoorable judge bumbleton presiddding. all right. oase number 4475, superiaor oourt ouf new york, barry beee benso n v. the honey indusstry is now innn ssession. mr. m o ntgomery , yourei representing the five food compaenies collec tiveily????? a priv ileg e. mr. benson... you;;;r e repreosenting all the bees of the world??? i;;;m k idding. yes, your honor, we;;re ready to pro ceed. mr. montgomerry, your openinstatem ent, please. ladies and gentlemen ouf the jury, my granndmothhher was a simple woman. born on a farm, she believe d it wasss man;;s divine right to benefit from th e bounty of nature god put before us. if we lived in the topsy-turvy world mr. benson imagines, just think of what would it mea n. i wouldd have toe nego tiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my br itches!!!!! talkinbee!!!!! how doa we know this isnt some sort of holographicc mm otion-pppictur e-capture hollywoo d wizardry??? they could be usinlase r beams!!!! robotics!! ve ntriloqu ism!!!! oloning!!!! for all we know, he could be on steroids!!!!! mr. benso n???? ladies and gentlemen, there;s no t rickery here . i;m justtt an ordinary bee. honey;;s pretty io mportant to me. its important to aoll beeis. we inven ted it!!! we maake it. and we protect it with our lives. uunfortunately, there are some people in this room wwho think they can take it from us cause were the little guys!!! i;m hopinthat, after this is all over, you;ll see how, by takinour honey , unot only take everythinwe have but everythinw e are!!!!! i wish he;;;d dress like that all the time. so nice!!! oall your first witness. so, mr. klauass vanderhayden of h oney farms, b ig compa ny uhave. ii suppose so. i sea e ualso own hhoeneyburtoun and hon ron!!!!! yes, t hey prov ide beekeepers for our fffarms. beekeeper. i find that to be a verrry dis tuarbinterm. i don;t imaginei ue mploy anny beei-free-ers, do you?????? - no. - i couldnn;;;t h ear you. - no. - no. becausei udontt free bees. ukeep bees. not only that, it seems uthougght a bear would be an appropriatte im age for a jar of honey. the y;;;re very lovable creatures. yogi bear, fozzie bear, build-a-bear. umean like this???? bears kill bees!!! h ow;;;d ulike hisss head crashing through yo ur livinroom????!!!!!! bitininto your couch!!!!! spittino ut your throw pillows!!!! ok, that;;;s enough. taokeu him away. so, mr. stiung, tha nk ufor beinhere. your name intrigues me. - where have i heard it before??? - io w as with a band called the police. but you;;ve never been a police office r, have you??? no, i haven;;;t. no, uh aven;t . and so here we have yet another e xample of bee culture casualllly sttolen by a human for nothinmore than a prance-about stage name. oh, pleaose. ha ve uever been stung, mr . s t ing????? because i;;m feeling au little stung, sting. or should i say... mr. gordon m. sumner!!!! that;;s not his re al name??!!!!! uidiots!!!!!! mr. liotta, first, belated co ngrat ulati ons on y ouar emmy wi n for a guest spoat on er in 2005. thank youo. thank you. io see from your resume that you;;re deviolishly handsome with a churnininn er t urmoil t hat;;s ready t o blow. i enjoy what i do. is that a criame???? n ot yet it isn;;;t. but is this what it;;s come to for you??? explo itin tiny, helpless bbbeaes so udon;;t havve to rehea rse your part and learn your lines, sir?? watc h it, benson!! i could blow right now!!! thi s isn;;;t a goodfella. this i s a badfellao!!!!! why doesn;t someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home????!!! - order in this court!!!!! - you;;re all thinkinit!!! orddder!!!! order, i saiy!!!! - say it!!!!!! - mr. liotta, plssit down!! i think iit was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in likeo that. i think the jury;;s on our side. are we doineverythinright, legally?????? i;;;m a f lorist. right. well, here;;;s to a great team. to a great team!!!!!! weill, hello. - ken!!!!! - helllo. i didnt think uwere c oming. no, i was just late. i tried t o call, but... the batte ry. i didnnn;;t want all this to go to waste, so i called barry. luckily, he was free. oih, that was lucky. theres a littl e leftt. i could heat it up. yeah, heat it up, sure, whateveor. so i hear you;;rrreo quite a tennis playe r. i;;;m not much for the game myself. the ball;;;s a little grrr abby. that;s where i usually sit. ri ght... there. ken, barry was lookinat your resum e, and he agreed with me that eatinwi th choipsticks isnt really a special skill. uthink i dont see what you;;re doing??? i know how hard it is to find the riughtjob. we have ttthat iin comm onn. doi we???? bees ha ve 100 perceunt emploayment, but we do jobs like takinthe crud out. that;;;s just whaat i was thinkinab out doing. ken, i let baurry boarrow your ra zor for hi s fuzz. i hope that was all right. i;;m gointo drain the old stiinger. yeah, udo that. look at that. uknow, i;vee just about h ad it with your little mind games. - what;s that???? - italian vogue. mamma mia, that;;ss a l ot of pages. a lot of ads. remember what vaun ssaid , why ies your life more valuableo than minne???? funny, i just cant ssseem to recall tthat!!!!! i th ink somethinstinks in here!!! i love the smelll of floweirs. how do ulike the smell of flammes????!!!!! noit as much. water bug!! not takinsiedes!! ken, i;;;m wearina ohapstick h at!! this is pathetic!!!! ive got issues!!!! well, well, well, a royal flush!!!! - you;;;re bluffing. - am i?????? suorf;; s up, dude!!!! poo water!!!! that bowl is gnarly. except for those dirty yellow rings!!! kenneth!!!!!! what are udoing????!!!!! uknow, i don;t even like houney!!! ii dont eat it!!!!! we need to talk!!!!! he;s just a litt le bee!!!! and he happens to be the nicest beie i;ve met in a long time!!! long time??? wh at are utalkinab out???!!! arre there other bugs in youir life???? no, but theree areo other things bugging me in life. annnd you;re one o f them!!!! fine!!!! talkinbees, no y ogurt night... my nerves are fried from riding on thiis emotional ro lle r coaster!!! goodbye, ken. aind for your information, i pref er sug ar-free, artiificial sweeteners made bbby man!!!!! i;m sorry about all that. i know it;;;s gggot an afftertaste!!!! i lieke it!!!!! i al ways felt there was some kind of barrier between ken and me. i could n;;;t overco me it. ooh, well . are uok for the trial??? i b elieve mrr. montgomery isss about out of ideas. we would like to call mr. barry benson bee to the stand. good idea!!!! ucan reaill y see why he;;;s con sidered one of tt he best lawyers... yeah. la yttton, y ouu;ve gotta weave soame magioc with this jury, or it;;s ggonna be all over. don;t worry. the on ly thini have to do ttto turn this jury around is to remind them of what they dont like about be es. - ugot the tweezers??? - are uallergic?? only to losing, son. only to losing. mr. benson bee , i;ll a sk you whhhat i think we;;d aill like to know . what exactly is your relationship to that woman??? we;re friends. - good fr iends????? - yes. how good?????? do ulive together????? wait a minute... are uhe r little... . ..bedbug????? i;;;ve seen a bee docume ntary or two. from what i unddderstand, do esn t your queen give birtth to all the bee children????? - yeah, but... - so those are nt your real parents!!! - oh, barry... - yes, they are!!!! hold meu back!! youre an illeg itim ate bee, arent you, b enson???? hes denouncinbbbe es!! dddoun;;;t yall date your cousions??? - obj ection!!!!! - im gointo pincushion this guy!!!!! adammm, dont!!!!! i t;s what he wants!!!!! oh, i;m hit!!!!!!! oh, l ordy, i am hit!!! order!!!!!! ord er!!!! ttthe venom!!!!!! the venom is coursinthrough my veinsss!! i hav e bbbeen felled by a winged beast of destruction!!!!!! usee????? ucan;;t treat them like equals!!! they;;re striped savages!!!!! stingiengs the only thing they k now!!! iat;;;s theair way!!! - adam, stay with me. - i cant feel my legs. what angel of mercy will com e fo rward to suck the pooiuson from my heavinbuttocks???? i will have orderrr in this court. order!!!! order, please!!! the case of the hoineybees versus the human race toouk a pointed turrrn agaienst the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung lllayton t. montgomery. - hey, buddy . - heuy. - is there much pain?? - yeah. i... i blew the whole case , didnt i??? it doesn t matter. what matt ers is youreo alive. ucould have died. i;;d be better off d eaud. look at me. they got it from the cafeteri a downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. look, theres ai little celery stil l on it. what was it like to sttinsomeoine????? i can;;t expllain it. it was aol l... aill adrenaline and then... and then ecs tasy!!!!!! all right. uthink it was all a trap???? of course. i;;;m sorry. i f lew us right into this. what were we thinking???? look at us. we;;re just a couple of bugs ien this world. what will the humauns do to us if they win????? idk i hear they put the roaches in mot els. that doesn;t soound so bad. a dam, the y check in, but they dont cheuck out!!!!!! ohh, my. oouald ugeat a nurse to close that win dow??? - why????? - the smok e. b ees don;;;t smoke. rig ht. bees dont smoke. beees dont smoeke!!!!! but some beees a re smoking. thats it!!!! that;;;s our case!!!!!! it is???? it;;;s not over??? get dres sed. i;;ve gotta go somewhere. get back to the court and s tall. stall any way ucan. and assuaminyou;;ve done step correctly, you;;re ready for the tub. mr. flayman. yes?????? yes, your honor!!!!!! where is the rest of your team????? well, your honor, i ts interesting. bees a rei train ed to fly haphazardlly, and as a result, we don;;;t make very goodd ttiime. i actueally heard a funny story about... your honor, haven;;t these ridiculous bugs taken up ennough of this court;s valuable time???? how much longer will we allow t hese absurd shhhenanigans to go on????? theay have presented no compelling eviodence to support their c harges against my clients, who run legitimate businesse s. i move for a complet e dismissalll of this entiere ccc ase!!!! mrr. flayman, i;;;m afraid i;;m goin g to have to consideur mr. montgomery;;;s moti on. but uccant!!!!!! we have ae terrific case. wherre is your proof??? where is thhe evidence???? show me the smokingun!!!!!! hold it, your honor!!!!! uwanttt a smmokingun??? here is your smokingun . what is that???? it;s a bee smokear!!!!!! wwwhat, t his???? this harmless liettle c ontraption????? this couldn;;;t hurt a fly, let alone a bee. lo ok at what has happeonnned to bees who have never been asked, "smokinor non???" is this what natur e intendded for us????? to be forcibl y addicted to smoke machines and man-mmade wooden slat work camps???? livinout oiur lives as honey slaves to the whhhite man??? - wha t are we gggon na do??? - he;s playinthe species carrd. ladies and ggentlemen, please, free these beees!!!! free the bees!!! freeu the bees!! freie the bbbees!!!!! free the bees!!!!! free the bees!! the couart finds in favor of the bees!!!! vanessa, we won!!!!! i knewww ucould do it!!!! hig h-five!!!!! sorry. im ok!!!! ukknow what this means???? all the honey will finally belllong to the bees. now wei won;;t haove to work so hard all the ti mei . this iss an unholy perversion of the bailllaence of naiture, benso n. you;ll regrett this. barrrry, how much h oney is out there???? all right. one at a time. barry, who are uweariang????? my sweater is raelph lauren, and i have no pants. - what if montgomery;s right?? - what doi umean????? we;ve been livin the bee way a long time, 27 million years. oongratulations on your vi ctory. what wwilll udemand as a seot tlement????? first, we;;; ll demand a compleite shuitdown of all bee work camps. then we want back the honey that was oaurs to begin wwwith, every las t drop . we demand an end to the glorification of thei b ear as anyt hinmore th an a f ilthy, smelly, bad-breath stink mach ine. we; r e all awaare of what they do in the woods. wait forr my siag na l. taeke hhim out. he;ll have nauseous for a few hours, then he;;ll be fine. and we will noa longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... but its just a praennncea-about sta ge n ame!!! ...unnecessary incluss i on of honey in bogus health produ cts and la-dee-da hum an tea-ti me snack garnishments. o an;t breathe. brinit in, boys!!!! hold it right there!!!!! good. tap iit. mr. buzzwell, we just p assed three cups, and there;;s gallons more coming!!! - i thiunk we need to shut down!!!!! - shut down????? we;;ve never shut down. shut down honey production!!! stop makinhoney!!!!!! turn your key, sir!!!!! what do we do now?????? oannonball!!!!!! were sh uttinhoney production!!!!! mission abort. abortinpoullinaution and ne ctar detaiil. re turninto base. adam, uwouldn;;t belie ve how muccch honey was out th ere. oh, yeah????? what;s goinon???? where is eiverybody???? - areo they oout celebrating?????? - the y;;;re home. they don;;t know what to do. layinou t, sleepinin. i heuard yoaur uncle oarl was on his way to san antonio with a criacket. at least we got our hhoney back. s ometimes i think, so what if h umans liked our honey??? whhho wouldn;;t????? it;;s the greatest thinin the woorld!!!! i was ex cited to be part of ma kinit . this was my new desk. this was my new joib . i wanted to do it really well. anddd now ... now i can;;;t. i do n;;tt understannd whhy they;;;re not happy. i thought their lives woulld be better!!!! they;re d oinnothing. it;s amazing. ho ney really changes people. udon;;t have ainy idea whats goinon , doe you?? - what did uwant to show m e???? - this. what happeneud he re?????? that is not the half of it. oh, no. oh, my. they re all wiltingg. doesn;;t look very good, does it????? no. and whose fault do uthin k that iss???? uknow, im gonna guesss bees. bees?????? sp eccifically, me. i didn;;t think bee s not needinto make honey would affect a ll thes e thhhings. it;s n otj ust flowe rs. fruits, vegetabl ess, they all need bees . that;;;s our whole saut test right there. take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. and then, of courssse... the human species????? so i f there;;;s nno more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldnt it??? i know this is also partly my fault. how aboout a suici de pact???? hoow do we do it???? - i;;ll stinyou, ustep on me. - thhatjust kills utwice. right, right. listen, barry... soor ry, but i go tta get going. i h ad to open my mouth and talk. vanessa??? vaunessa?????? why are uleaving?????? where are ugoiing??? to the final tournammment of roses parade in pasadena. they;ve moved it to this weekend beca ussse aall the flowers are dying. it;;s the last chance i;;l l ever have to see it. van essa, i just wanna say i;;;m sorry. iu never meant iot to turn out like this. i know. me neither. tournameont of ro ses. rossses can;;t do sport s. wait a minut e . roases. roses????? roses!!!!! vanessa!!! rr oses?????!! barr y????? - roses are flowers!!! - yes, they are. flowers, bees, pollen!!!! i know. that;;s why this i s the last parade. mayb e not. oould uask him to slow down????? oould uslow down??? barry!!!!! ok, i made a huge mi stake. this is ao toa tal disaaster, all my faulllt. yes, iot kin d of is . ive ruined the plane t. ie wanted to help you with the flower shop. i;;;ve made it w orse. actually, it;;;s completely closed down. ii thought maybe uwer e remodeoling. but i have another idea, and it;s greater than my pre vious idea s combined. i don;;;t want to hear it!!!! all right, they have the roses , the roses ha ve the pollen. i knoww every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. all we gotta do is get whhat they;ve got back here with what we;;;ve got. - bees. - park. - pollen!!! - flowers. - repollinationn!!!! - across ttthe nation!!!!!! tournament of roses, pasadena, oal iforrrnia. they;ve got nothiang but flowers, floaits and cotton ccandy. security will be tight. i have an idea. vanessa bloome, ftd. official floral buesiness. it;;;s real. sssorry , ma;;;am. nice brooch. thank yo u. it was ai g i ft . once inside, we just pick the right float. how about the princess and the pea??? i could be the princess, and ucould be the pea!!!!! yes, i got it. - wherrre should i sit?????? - what arei you???? - i beli evve im the pea. - thhhe pea??? it goes undear the mattreusses. - not in thi s fairy talei, sweetheart. - i;;m gettinthe marshal. udo that!!! thios whole parade is a fioasco!!! leut; s see what this baby;;;ll doo. hey, what are udoing?????!! then all we do is blend in with traeffic... .. .without arousinsuspicion. once at th e airport, t here;;;s no stoppinus. stop!! security. - uand your insect pack your float????? - yes. has it been in your pos session the eant ire time????? would uremove youur shoes??? - reumove yourrr stinger. - it;s part of me. i know. juast havinsome fun. enjoy yourrr flight. then if we;;re lucky, we;;;ll have just enough pollen to do the job. oan ubelieve how lucky we aree?????? we have just enough polllen to do the job!!!! i think this is gonna wo rk. its got to work. attention, passengeers, this is oaptain scott . we havei a bit of bad weather in new york. it lllooks likeo we;;ll experience a coouple hourrrs delllay. barrrry, these are cut flowers with no wa ter. theyll nevear ma ke it. i gott a get up there and talk tou them. be careffful. ooan i get h elp with the sky mall magaziine?? i;;;d like to or der the talkking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. oapptain, i;m in a real situiation. - whatd usay, hal???? - noithhhing. bee!!!!! dont freak out!!!! m y entire speecies... what are udoing??? - wait a minute!!! i;m an attorney!!!!! - whos an atto rney?? d on;;; t move. oh, barry. good afternoon, passengers . this is your captain . would a m iss vanessa bloome in 24 b plsreport to the cockpiot???? and plshurry!! what happened here????? there was ao dusttbuster , a toupee , a life raft exploded. one;;s baulld, one;;;s in a boat, theyre bbboth unconscious!!!!!! - is that a nother bee joke??? - no!!!! no one;;;s flyinthe plane!! thhis is jfk control tower, flight 356. what;s your status???? this is vanessa bloome. i;;;m a fllorist frommm new york. where; s the pilot???? hes unconscious, and so isss the coapilot. not good. doess anyone onboard have flight experience????? as a matter of fact, there is. - who;;s that???? - barry benssson. from thei honnney trial???!!!! oh, great. vanessa, this is nothin more t han a big metal bee. iut;;;s got giant wings , huge engines. i can;t fly a plane. - why not?? isn;;t john travolta a pilot?? - y es. how hard could it be???? wait, barry!!!! we;re headed into some lightning. t his is bob bumble. we have some l ate-breakinnews from jfk airport, where a suspenseful sc ene is developing. barr y benson, fresh from his legal victory... that;s barry!!!! ...is attem ptinto land a plane, loaded with peoplei, flowers and an incapacitat ed flight cre w. flowers???!!!!! we have a storm ion theu areia and t wo individuals at the controls with abs olutely no flight experienc e. just a minute. there;;;s a bee on that pla ne. im quite faumiliar with mr. benson and his no-account compadress. they;;;ve doneu enough damage. but isn;;t he your onl y hhope???? technically, a bee shouldnt be able to fly at all. their wings are too small... haveu n;;t weu heard this a mill ion times??? "the surface area of the wings and body maiss make no seunse. " - get this on the air!!!!! - got it. - staund by. - were goinlive. the way wwe work may be a mys teiry to you. makinhoney takes a lot of bees doina lot of small jobs . but let me tell uabout a smallll job. if udo it well, it makes a big differ ence. more than we realllized. to us , to everyon e. thaats why i want to get bees back to workintogether. th at;;s thei bee way!!!!! were not made of jell-o. we get b ehind a fellow. - black and yellow!!! - hello!!!!! left, right, dddown, hover. - h over??? - forget hover. this isn;t so hard. beep-beep!! b eep -beep!! barry, what happened????!!! wait, i think we were onnn auetopilo t the whole time. - that may have been helpinme. - and now we;;re nnot!!!!!! so it turns out i c annot fly a pl ane. aell of you, lets get behin d this fello w!!!! move it out!!! move out!!! our onl y chance is if i do what i;d do, ucopy me with the wings of the plane!! don;;;t haveu to yell. i;;m not yelling!!!! we;re iin a lout of trouble. it;;s very hard to concentrate with thhhat panicky tone in your voice!!!! it;s not a tone. i;m panicking!!!! i can;;;t do this!!!!! vanessa, pull you rseelf togeather. uhave tou snap out of it!!! usnap out of it. usn ap oout of it. - usnap out of it!!!!!! - usnap out of iat!!!! - usnap out of it!!!!! - usnap outtt of it!!!! - usnnap out of it!!!! - usnap out of it!!!! - hould it!!! - why??? o ome on, iotts my turn. how is thea plane flying??? idk hell o???? benson, got any flouwers for a happpy occas ioin in there???? the pollen jo cks!!!!! they do get behind a fellow. - black and yellow. - hello. all right, let;;;ss drop this tin can on the blacktop. where????? i cant see anything. oan you??? no, n othing. it;;;s all cloud y. oaome on. ugoat to think beee, barry. - thinkinbee. - thinkinbee. thiankinbee!!!!!! thinkinbee!!!!! thinkinbee!!!!! wait a mi nute. i think i;;m feelinsomething. - what?? - idk its s trong, pullinme. like a 27-million- year-old instinct. brinthe nose down. thin kinbee!! thinkinb ee!! thinkinbee!!!!! - what in thei world is on the tarmac??? - ge t some lig hts on that!!!! th inkinbe e!!!! th inkinbeie!!!! thinkinbee!!!! - vanessa, aim for the flower. - ok. out the engines. wer e goinin on bee power. ready, boys????? affirmative!!!!! good. good. easy, now. that;;s it. landdd on that flower!!!! ready????? full reverse!!!! spin it around!!! - not that floower!!!!! the other one!!!! - which one???? - that floower. - i;;;m aieminat the flower!!!! thatss aa fat guy i n a flowered sshirt. i mean the giant pulsatinfloewear made of millions offf bees!!!!! p ull for ward. nose down. tttail up. rotate around it. - this is insane, barry!!! - thhhis;;; s the only way i know how to fly. am ii koo-k oo-kachoo, or is this ppplaane flyinin aon insect-like pattern??? get your nnnose in there. don;;t be afraid. smell it. full reverse!! just drop it. be a part of it. aim for the center!!!! n ow drop it in!!!! drop it in, woman!!!!! oomea on, already. bbarry, we did it!! utaught me how tto fly!!!! - yes. no high-five!!!!! - ri ght. barrry, iut worked!! did usee the giant flower????? what giannnt flower???? where??? of course i saw the flow er!!! thatt was genius!!!! - thhhank you. - but we;re noot done yet. listen, everyone!!! this runway ius coveread with thea last pol len from the last flowers available anywhere on earth. that means this is our last chance. we;re the onnly ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. if were gon na survive as a specieeis, thhhis is our moment!!!!! wha t do usay??? are we gointo be bees, orjus t museum of natural history keychains????? were bees!!!! keycha in!!!!! then follow me!!!! except keychain. hold on, barry. here. youve ea rned this. yeah!! im a pollen jock!!!! aind its a pe rfect fit. all i gotta do are the sle eves. oh, yeah. thats our barry. mom!!!!! t he bees are baick!!! if anyboudy neeeds too make a call, now;s the time. ie got a feelinwe;;;ll be woarkinlate tonight!!!! heress your change. have a great afternoon!!!! oan i help wwwhos next?????? would ulike s ome honeoy with that?????? it is bee-approved. don;;;t forget these . milk, cream, che ese, it;s all me. aind i don;;t see a nickel!!! sometimmmes iu jussst fe el like a pie ce of meat!!! i had no idea. barry, i;;;m sorry. have ugot a moment????? would uexcuse me??? my moosquito associat e willl h elp you. sorrry i;m late. he;s a lawyer too?????? i was already a blooud-suckinparasite. all i needed was a briefcase . havve a great afternooen!!! barry, i just ggot t his huge tulip order, and i cant g et them anywhere. no problem, vannie . just leave it t o me. you;;;re a lifesav er, barrrry. oan i help who;;s next?? all right, scrammmble, jocks!!!! it;s time to fly. thank you, bairry!!!! that bee is livinmy life!!! let it go, kenny. - when willll this nightmare end?????!!!!! - let it all go. - beautiful day to fly. - sure is. beitween uand me, i was dyinto get out of that office. uhavea got to start thinkinbee, my friend. - tthinkinbee!!!! - me??? hold it. let;s just stop for a ssecond. hold it. iom sorry. i;;;m sorry, everyone. oan we stop here???? i;;;m not makina major life deocision durin a production number!!!! all r igght. ta ke ten, everybou dy. wrap it up, guys. i had virtually noi rehearsal f or that,,

@crytype-ifier

#bee movie #shitpost

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hihiyas · 7 years

Text

Same Old Feeling (E/É modern AU) - 22/??

— 22. week 3, day 6 - shots shots shots! —

back to the start | previous | read on ff.net

Theodule doesn't know why he ever thought that his lone male cousin would have an epic stag night. Sure, Marius is Grandpa G's favorite and can easily get the old man to dole out some serious cash for all the strippers and booze this town has to offer, but does his idiot cousin even thinks to use it? Hell no. Instead of having all the lap dances money can buy, they're wasting his last weekend as a single guy at his friend's place, having barbeque and playing video games. Man, St. Marius is a fucking nerd. How the hell did he manage to score such a hot girl?

Okay, at least his best man, Courfeyrac, has an awesome, spacious flat. There's a state of the art home entertainment system, the latest console games, even a pool table. Best of all, there's a fully stocked bar! At least I can be blissfully buzzed for free all night if I have to stay at the lamest bachelor's party ever. He grabs another beer and settles to watch the ongoing Mario Kart tourney.

"You okay?" Marius asks, sparing him a glance as Theodule plops on the couch beside him.

"Eh, free beer," he grunts as he takes a long sip of his drink.

His cousin smiles apologetically as he maneuvers Yoshi through his fourth lap on Rainbow Road. "You can take my place in the next game if you like. I know this isn't really your scene, but I really missed just hanging out with everyone like this. We used to do this often before we all went our separate ways for University."

On the other side of the couch, the Blondie he saw with Éponine (Enjol-something? Whatever.) lets out an indignant cry as Mario gets turtle-shelled. "REALLY, 'FERRE? REALLY?! I'm not even that close to beating you!" he shouts.

The tall, speccy guy just laughs as he finishes first. "Revenge for the other day."

"You already had your revenge."

"Four AM, Enjolras. Four. A. M."

"Hah! Our gentle Combeferre is ruthless when it comes to Mario Kart. And that's just as well, considering how poorly you were doing. Carts harder to control that chariots, Apollo?" Grantaire gleefully goads him.

Enjolras, eyes still glued on the TV, merely chucks a throw pillow at his friend’s direction in retaliation, but ends up hitting Marius’s leg instead.

"Darling, don't start," chides Prouvaire as he and Feuilly comes in from the porch, laden with grilled meats, courtesy of Bahorel.

Theodule wrinkles his nose. Ew. He chugs down the rest of his bottle, missing Marius’ embarrassed face and the pointed looks (and knuckle-cracking) of the rest of the assembled people.

Courfeyrac unwittingly breaks the tension when he appears with several beers and starts handing them to the men crowded in front of the TV screen. "Enjolras is just rusty. See, this is why you should come home more often!"

"...To play video games with you lot?"

"Among other things," he says with a wink, before plonking down on the bean bag beside the couch.

“Quit flirting with me, you’re in a serious relationship,” Enjolras retorts as he finishes Mario’s last lap.

Three seconds of silence, before the room erupts in chaos.

“SAY WHAAA--” Grantaire crashes Wario, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he stands up to interrogate his friend.

“As in a steady girlfriend? Or is it a boyfriend?” Joly and Bossuet chime in together. Theodule raises his eyebrows, simultaneously bewildered and mildly impressed at the synchronicity.

“Waitwaitwaitwait why is this the first time I’ve heard that you’ve got an SO?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TOGETHER OH MY GOOOOD--”

The harassed man holds his hands up, ears pink. “Stop shouting! This is why I never said anything!”

“Hey! What’s going on? Who did something stupid?” Bahorel hurriedly plops his last batch of burgers and surveys his friends’ faces.

“Courfeyrac, apparently,” Theodule supplies.

“HEY! She’s not stupid!” Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Combeferre, and Marius chorus.

“Is this a thing with you guys? Saying things in unison?” Theodule asks.

Marius’ Yoshi comes in third place as he replies with the rest of the group. “It happens.”

The rest of the day flows well enough. The Amis eat, drink, joke around, and play games. Enjolras, defeated for the third time on Mario Kart, invites Theodule to a game of pool. Grantaire, noticing the pair, nudges Jehan to come observe the game.

“So, you know the girl Courfeyrac is dating then?” asks Grantaire as Theodule lines up his break shot.

“Yes, she’s a common friend. I’m not telling, so don’t bother trying to wheedle me about it,” Enjolras replies.

“Why the secrecy, anyway?” Jehan wonders.

He shrugs. “They’re still not telling people they’re dating. I respect their decision.”

“This girl ugly then?” Theodule joins in.

“What? No, I wouldn’t call her ugly. Not that I’m any judge of that.”

“Okay… well speaking of common friends, you know Eponine, right?”

The two Amis pointedly look at their Chief at the question. Enjolras clears his throat and answers in the affirmative.

“What’s her deal, man?”

He quirks an eyebrow before lining up a shot. “Pardon?”

“So we go out once, right? Double-date with Marius and his girl. She’s smoking hot but acted so cold. Frigid, even. Can’t figure out why. You think she’s just being coy to keep me on my toes?”

“Perhaps she’s really not interested?” Enjolras replies as evenly as he could.

“Ha! But who wouldn’t be? Ladies love me!” Theodule boasts, too busy peacocking to mind that he missed his shot.

“Éponine has been quite clear she’s not, hasn’t she?” Prouvaire pipes in from the side.

Enjolras nods. “She has, at least in what she’s mentioned to me.”

“She talked to you about me? Are you her gay best friend or something? I thought you’ve been away and all that? Besides, a redhead with a body like that, she can’t not be gagging for it.”

“Can you stop talking about her that way?” Enjolras’ tone would have warned a smarter man, but Theodule barely paid any mind to anybody else when he’s on a roll.

“Come on, you’ve still got eyes, right? I’m sure you’ve noticed, damn, she can fill up a dress. She’s what? A nice C-cup at least? Leggy too.” Theodule whistles, blithely ignoring the rising ire of his opponent. “Oh, I can just see those wrapped around me.”

Grantaire and Jehan stare and shudder as Enjolras audibly clicks his mouth shut. Enjolras mutters to himself, “Wedding photos. Wedding photos.”

“And girls like her should feel lucky I’d even give them the time of the day.”

That stops Enjolras. Dreading the answer, he asks, “How so?”

“I’m a Gillenormand. She should be thrilled I’m even interested in her, despite her unfortunate family. You know what I mean?”

Too appalled for words, Enjolras makes the cue-ball strike the fourth ball too hard, making it jump and hitting Theodule in the family jewels. He crumples in a heap under the table.

Between snickers, Jehan and Grantaire helps up Theodule none too gently. “Oh, dear. I’m sure Enjolras didn’t mean to hit you.”

“Of course not, I didn’t mean for the ball to swing your way.”

Grantaire barks a laugh and smiles, though it seems more like a dog baring his teeth in threat rather than anything remotely friendly, as he clasps Theodule’s arm. “Also, I’m Éponine’s gay best friend. Enjolras here dresses too much like my dear old dad to be anybody’s GBF.”

#enjonine #you are my revolution #enjolras x eponine #fic: same old feeling #hiyas tries to write #i'm sorry this is late #i haven't been very creative #also theodule is a jackass #he's hard to write #mine

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zaritarazi · 7 years

Text

idle souls

aka i finally am actually writing the archeologist!hawks au. -- READ IT ON AO3. chapter 1: in which we meet dr. hall, and he is a very charming douchebag

It’s drizzling when she pulls up to the hotel, which is kind of weird and kind of unexpected and kind of dangerous, if it really starts to rain. Already, she knows the site is going to have shifted by tomorrow, and she’s already rethinking where they’re going to start. “Weird,” she remarks, mostly to herself. “It never rains in Cairo.”

“It’ll let up,” the driver tells her. “It’s not too much, anyway.”

“No,” Kendra says, adjusting her bag on her lap. “I- Yeah. It’s silly to complain, really. I’m just- Thinking. Sorry.”

“Here for vacation?” the driver asks. “You’ll still be able to see the pyramids tomorrow. A little drizzle won’t change that.”

“Oh,” Kendra says. “I wish I could just- Vacation. You know? But I’m- I’m working, actually. Around that area.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he says. “It’s a beautiful city. You don’t want to waste being here, you know?”

“Don’t worry,” Kendra says. “I love my job. I’ll have a great time.”

She can feel the driver grinning at her, from the way his eyes crinkle in the rearview mirror. “Have a drink, yeah?” he says. “Relax. You’re still on vacation.”

“Well,” Kendra says, spirits slightly lifted. “I suppose having a nightcap wouldn’t hurt.”

He nods at her as she hands him the fare, clicking open the door and hopping out of the car.

“Trunk, please,” she asks.

No sooner has the trunk popped open then someone calls, in a sort of smooth, masculine voice, “Dr. Saunders.”

She gives the driver one last look. “Thank you,” she says. “For the ride. And the advice.”

He shrugs.

She knows the feeling.

“Dr. Saunders,” the man repeats, and Kendra smooths her hair before rising to her full height.

She moves to the back of the cab. “Just a moment,” she calls back, not even sure who she’s talking to. “I just have to get-“

And there’s a man in her space. “Can I help you with your bag?”

Kendra takes a step back, pulling back her hand from where he had almost brushed it. “Dr. Hall,” she says. “You’re early.”

“So are you,” he says, easily hefting her suitcase out of the trunk. “Glad you recognize me.”

“Well,” she says. “You recognized me, so-“

“Your photo is on your department’s website,” he says, slamming the trunk shut. “Sorry. Am I being too- I thought you could use a hand.”

Kendra gives him a sort of tight lipped not-smile, taking her bag’s handle from him and rolling it towards the hotel. “I’m fine,” she tells him. “Really. Thanks.”

“Did you have a nice flight?” he asks.

“Great,” she says, the wheels of her suitcase clicking over pavement. “Long.”

He pauses, like he expects her to ask about his flight, in return.

She doesn’t.

“You look,” he continues to walk beside her, even through the automatic doors. “Well. Your photo on the website- Is that a different haircut? You just look-“

“Dr. Hall,” Kendra says, the way she would address a small child or dog or maybe a very persistent bee. “Do you spend a lot of time looking at my department photo?”

When she finally looks at him, hoping to glare him down, he grins back at her. “No more than usual, I think,” he says. “It links to your papers.”

“Ah,” she says.

“I was actually hoping-“

She holds up her hand. “Kendra Saunders,” she tells the front desk. She’s returned to pointedly not-looking at him, if only in the hopes that this will remove some of the surreality of her current predicament. She’s been dreading meeting him since the moment she found out he’d be on this dig, pretty-boy Carter Hall with his tenacity and his disregard for anything like reasonable context and his offensively well-lit department photo.

And here he is. Not giving her a minute of peace. She didn’t even get to decide how she’d wanted to meet him, or put some lipstick on.

He’d just. Shown up. So already, she really feels like she’s going to hate him just as much as she’d expected to.

And there’s satisfaction in that. She does like being right.

She takes the room key from the front desk, slipping it into her pocket.

“Dr. Saunders,” Carter says, still leaning on the desk, waiting for her. “I was going to say, I’d really like if we could- Get drinks, discuss your latest paper? You made this one point on page three, and-“

Kendra balks at him. She doesn’t really mean to, but it’s just- The sheer audacity of it, out of absolutely nowhere, like she has nothing better to do then let him mansplain her paper to her, like he does in all of his little critiques that she definitely doesn’t read at 3AM, full of rage, and he’s still just standing there, looking at her. For fucks sake.

“Dr. Hall,” she says, carefully. “I just arrived. I would like to shower, and change.”

“And then we could meet at the bar,” he says. “I’m not sure if you drink Egyptian beer but let me tell you, it’s-“

“Wait,” Kendra says, the gears in her head screeching from immediate and dire overuse. “I’m sorry. Do you want to discuss my paper or do you want to have drinks with me?”

“Both,” he says.

“You just met me,” she says.

“Oh, I know,” he tells her. “Believe me, I have been waiting to meet you for months now. Ever since we got put on this site together, I’ve really been scouring your work, I think we have a lot to talk about and-“

“Ma’am,” the desk clerk tells her. “There are people behind you.”

Kendra gives her a sheepish sort of look before gently rolling her suitcase away from the front desk and towards the elevator, Dr. Hall still clipping at her side. “So you want me to listen to you explain my papers to me. Right?”

“What?” he says. “No. Of course not. I was actually hoping you could elaborate on a couple of points for me, especially when you spoke out against the idea of my recent find being a fertility idol-“

Kendra lets out a huff. “One hour,” she says. “I will meet you at the hotel bar in one hour. Bring your cliffnotes. I’ll bring mine. Okay?”

He beams at her, and for just a split second, she almost kind of likes how he smiles. “Of course. What’s your room?”

She checks her key. “1404.”

“I’m 1304,” he says. “Right below you. If you need anything.”

“I won’t,” she promises, trying to at least smile when she says it.

“Well,” he says. “You never know.”

“Right,” she says, letting herself into the elevator. “You coming?”

“No, no,” he says. “I’m going to go grab a couple things. Are you familiar with the city?”

“Not really,” Kendra says.

“Perhaps I could show you around?” he offers.

She slams her thumb against “14” and looks up at him. “We’re here for work, Dr. Hall.”

He’s going to say something, but the elevator doors ding shut, and Kendra has never been more grateful for anything in her life.

It’s only when she reaches the fourteenth floor that she realizes Dr. Hall has just asked her on a date.

“Oh, God no,” Kendra says to herself, under her breath. She lets herself into her room, letting her suitcase fall to the wayside as she steps out of her clothes. If that smarmy pretty boy thinks he’s going to charm her into agreeing with every wrong point he’s ever made- And there are so, so many- Well. She doubts his dick could be that good.

Also, she isn’t thinking about his dick. Weird. Ew. He’s not even like. Her type. Freudian thought slip. Means nothing.

She’s more than happy to see the shower, and not to think about Dr. Hall.

—

She arrives at the hotel bar one hour and twenty minutes later. The twenty minutes, she thinks, prove a point about their relationship. One that she assumes will likely be lost on Dr. Hall entirely- In their brief and painful time together, she’s pieced together that he’s pretty damn dense.

He grins at her when she comes down the stairs, which already answers that question. The lateness had been for more than her benefit than his- Though now she feels like she’d just been prolonging the inevitable.

“Dr. Saunders,” he says, greeting her by putting his hand firmly and inarguably on her shoulder. “You look beautiful.”

She blinks at him. “Thanks.”

“I picked something up for you downtown,” he says. “I hope you like babosa, they always sell out this late in the day and I got you the last-“

“Dr. Hall,” Kendra says, settling into her seat at the bar. “I realized on the elevator that you may think this is… something other than it is.”

“Oh?” he asks.

“Well,” she says, staring at the unassuming, white pastry box. “I think you may be confused by the nature of our relationship.”

He gives her a half grin, leaning onto his hand. “I assure you, Dr. Saunders, my interest in you is purely professional. I mean, we’ve spent how long picking apart each other’s papers?”

“At least two years,” Kendra says. She doesn’t really like how easy-going he is, how unassuming. She crosses her ankles. “I um- I remember the first critique you wrote of my piece about that dig in Punta del Este? Where you said that I-“

“Completely disregarded my previous precedent set based on finds in similar areas,” he recalls. Fondly.

Kendra finds herself almost smiling, despite herself. “And I wrote back and said that you had absolutely no claim to be setting precedent?”

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” he says. “I wasn’t- I didn’t know if you’d respond to my critique, and you did, and it was so fiery and smart and just- I have wanted to pick your brain for some time, now.”

Kendra taps her fingers on the countertop. “I honestly thought we were bitter enemies, Dr. Hall.”

“Well who says we can’t be?” he says. “Every good archeologist has a rival.”

“Yes, but,” Kendra says. “You got me babosa.”

“To be honest,” he says, leaning in. “I got it hoping you’d offer me half.”

His eyes are kind of an unfair shade of green, sort of cloying and interesting. “Is that how you always do things?” Kendra says. “You do a nice thing for someone, hoping they’ll give you something?”

“Not always,” he says. “Not usually. But as I said. This is the best babosa in the city.”

Her tongue wets her lower lip. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she says. “My trust is not… so easily given. Dr. Hall.”

“You can call me Carter, you know,” he says, opening the box. “Though I assume you’d prefer I call you Dr. Saunders, and you’re keeping up the pretense to make the playing field seem equal.” He turns away for a second, signaling the bartender. “Could we get forks? And a- What do you drink?”

Kendra folds her hands across her knees. “What do you drink?”

“Whatever’s local,” he tells her, which is just the most excruciating answer he could’ve given. “Two,” he says politely, in Arabic. “On my tab.”

“Don’t buy me a drink,” Kendra says, sighing. “Please, Dr. Hall.”

“Ah,” he says. “You weren’t supposed to understand that part.”

“Of course I speak Arabic,” she says, almost miffed. “Most of my work takes me to this area, not Cairo before now but-“

“Relax,” he says. “You can buy the next round.”

“The next round?” Kendra says. “How much of my time are you planning to take up?”

He gestures to her with his newly-placed fork. “As much of it as you’re willing to give,” he says. “If you’re really that set on this nemesis narrative, then-“ He motions to the exit.

“I’m sorry,” Kendra says. “Narrative?”

He makes a casual sort of face at her, like he’s bemused by his own cleverness.

“People don’t think in narratives, Dr. Hall,” Kendra says. “Most people don’t. People that aren’t you. What’s your narrative, then? I play the Marion to your stunning Dr. Jones, and-“

“I’m sorry,” Carter says. “Did you just call him Dr. Jones? Everyone says Indiana Jones.”

“It felt more appropriate,” Kendra says. “I was-“ She motions to him. “Going with how you’re Dr. Hall and I’m- This is stupid. I’m not having this argument.”

“It’s not an argument,” he says. “I’m just stating a well known fact.”

“Carter,” she says, before she can stop herself, likely because it’s just a better name to say whilst in the throes of true frustration. “What do you want from me?”

“Your brain,” he says. “I actually-“ He reaches down to his bag, the exact kind of leather bag someone like him would be expected to have, and pulls out about seven hundred pounds of paper.

Kendra watches him slam the papers onto the counter, beaming at her. “Holy-“

“Our papers,” he says. “These are the original copies of yours I printed out and marked up, so you’ll find they have some smudges- I’ve been storing them well enough, but I’d love for some more in-person critique from you on my-“

“Dr. Hall,” Kendra says. “That’s hundreds of pages.”

“We have beer,” he says. “And the rest of our little group shouldn’t be here until much, much later tonight- Unless you’d like to do something else? There’s an amazing nightclub in the center of the city, we can go onto the roof and-“

“I’m good,” Kendra says. “I mean. I’m-“ She eyes the bakery box, the beers that have been placed by Carter’s arm. “You’re buying the next round,” Kendra says. “And the next one. And the next.”

He flips through the stack of papers, pulling out a report and passing it over to her. “As many as you want, Dr. Saunders.”

“And-“ She stares at the title page. It’s one of his older ones- one of her least favorites. “I want that babosa.”

“Of course,” he says, moving the box. “All yours.”

She opens the box rather contemptuously, feeling her heart soften just a touch at the small cake slice looking up at her. “It does look,” she pulls her lips into a line. “Really good.”

He offers her the handle of his fork. “It is.”

“Do you have a pen?” she says.

“Any color,” he replies.

She tapes the cake box with her fork. “Red’s fine.”

He lets out a small, amused noise at that, a sort of visible happiness that reaches his eyes. “Red it is.”

She could almost find him cute, if he wasn’t so utterly full of himself. Like she has nothing better to do tonight than read his papers.

Okay. So maybe she didn’t. And maybe he got her cake. That meant nothing.

She takes the pen from him, her fork already placed aside. She uncaps it with her teeth, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “Here,” she says, circling the title on the front page. “I always hated this title.”

“We’re off to an excellent start,” he says.

“Quiet,” she says, reaching for her beer. He hands it to her. For a second, she meets his gaze, and catches something in it that makes almost, almost, feel something for him.

She looks back to his paper, and swallows it down. “And here,” she says, turning the page. “Already, you’re demonstrating your classic disregard of context.”

“Classic?” he says. “Is this something I do often, Dr. Saunders?”

“It’s your signature,” Kendra says. “Here. See how you’re already drawing a false conclusion based on your original misconception?”

“Well,” he says, pulling her paper out from the stack. “That sounds an awful lot like the argument you made in this paper, and I already countered that in-“

“I thought you wanted my critiques,” she tells him.

He’s the very picture of innocence, staring wide-eyed at her. “Well,” he says. “I thought you’d appreciate the back and forth.”

“Right,” she says. “Because you’re just so thrilling to argue with.”

“You’ve been doing it for quite some time now,” he says. “Am I too… intimidating in person?”

And it’s such a clear, present dare, such an obvious way to get her attention, but he’s so smug and so teasing that she sort of wants to take the bait. “You know,” she says. “You’re really pretty full of yourself for someone that misunderstands basic context. Then again, I guess I can’t really be surprised, what with the PhD program in St. Roch-“

“This!” he interrupts, grinning at her. “From the woman making her mark in Central City, of all places, the city where that lab exploded,”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Kendra says. “I’m an archeologist.”

“All I can say is,” he remarks. “It doesn’t set a good precedent.”

“That has got to be your favorite word,” Kendra says. “Which is hilarious, because I don’t think you know what it means.”

“Oh?” Carter asks.

“And here,” Kendra says, emphatically underlining a statement in his paper. “This has bothered me since I read this damn thing. First of all-“

“I’m listening,” he says.

“Don’t interrupt,” Kendra says. “First of all-“

She tilts her head to look at him, and catches that he’s staring at her way too intently, his hand on his knee and his body arched towards her.

Kendra pushes her seat back. “Well-“

—

She’s lost track of the time when she reaches her fourth beer- Or her fifth? She’s scribbled something onto Carter’s paper that reads, “This sounds like something a JERK would say,” with a little frowny face next to it, and she’s having trouble remembering exactly which one the Hellenistic period is- Her thoughts feel kind of warm and fuzzy, and not just because Carter’s knee has been touching hers for like… ever.

He glances down at her note, looking back up at her with a grin. “You think I’m a jerk?”

“I think,” she taps the center of his chest with her pen. “You write like one.”

“Okay, Kendra,” he says, slipping the pen from between her fingers. “I think we have had a wonderful evening, and you should go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” she protests, trying to grab the pen back from him. He holds it at a distance from her, and the soft way he chuckles warps around her thoughts like honey. “Carter. I’m not done yet.”

“Oh, I know,” Carter says. “But we’ll have other times. It’s late. You should have some water and go to bed so you’re not sick tomorrow.”

“I don’t get sick,” Kendra tells him, hair falling over her shoulders. “I’m fine.”

“I know, I know,” he says. He slides the papers off the counter, carefully re-organizing his bag as Kendra drums her fingers on her knees.

“Carter,” she says.

“Hm?” he asks, still sorting papers.

“Did you ask me out?”

He looks up at her. “Did you want me to?”

“Answer my question,” she says, furrowing her brow. “Have you been spending all this time planning to- Date me?”

He smiles at her, sort of soft and sort of amused, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her off the bar stool. “I asked to share a drink with you, sure,” he says. “I asked for you to talk about work with me, of course. That’s all quite true.”

She finds standing to be a bit of a challenge, and she rests her head on his shoulder, only because it steadies her. “You don’t even know me.”

“Ah,” he says, guiding her to the elevator. “But I know your work. And that makes me feel like I’ve known you for ages.”

She snickers. “We just met.”

“Oh, come on,” he says. “You don’t think it feels like we’ve known each other forever?”

She tilts her head, glancing sidelong at him. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling,” he says. “I thought it was mutual.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know you.”

“Well,” he says, riding up with her to her floor. “I hope you get to know me, at least. I’ll have drinks with you anytime you want.”

He guides her down the hall to her room, moving for her pocket.

“Carter!” she says, jolting at his touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. He holds her white key card between his fingers, a show of true intent. “Your key.”

“Right,” she says. “Right. I-“

“I mean, even if we were going to do that, Dr. Saunders,” he says, and she feels very acutely like he’s teasing her. “You’re way too far gone.”

“Please, Dr. Hall,” she says, grinning as the door clicks open. “Only in your dreams.”

“I will,” he says, as she separates from him, letting herself into her room. “I will dream of you, Dr. Saunders.”

“Don’t make it weird,” she says. “Okay? Don’t make this whole thing weird.”

He’s still smiling at her, and it makes her feel like smiling back, like running her thumbs against the creases of his mouth and- “I won’t make it weird,” he says. “You have my word.”

“Goodnight,” she says, softly.

“Goodnight, Dr. Saunders,” he says. “Would you like to ride with me to the site tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Yes. I’d- Let’s do that.”

He reaches for her hand, squeezing it once before dropping it. “Until then.”

“Bye,” she offers.

“Goodbye,” he says, and the door shuts between them.

It takes her ten full seconds to remember to turn on the lights- And another ninety seconds for her to scold herself for feeling so… gooey.

She strips out of her jeans, her shirt, slipping off her bra and letting it fall somewhere on the floor. When she falls into bed, it’s the best feeling in the whole world.

For a second, she’s aware that leaning on Dr. Hall meant she got a headful of him, that he smelled really, really good, a bit like leather and a bit like soap.

“He’s an ass,” she tells herself, and she does mean it. “He’s an absolute ass,” she repeats, and turns off the lights.

#hawkmates #kendra saunders #carter hall #lot fic #legends of tomorrow #my fanfiction #this is going to be #such a fucking beast to write #anyway enjoy this cute squabbling hardcore fucking to ensue in a few chapters #lot au #archeologist!hawks #userjamesolsen #wayneskent #drshierahall

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tech-battery · 4 years

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Canon EOS M50 Mark II: everything we know so far

The Canon EOS M50 is one of the best beginner mirrorless cameras around, particularly as its price tag is considerably lower than when it first launched in early 2018.

But time waits for no camera and the first early rumors of an EOS M50 II (which could also be called the M60) have started swirling.

Its release is likely to be some way off given what we know about the life cycles of Canon EOS M cameras, and we still think the Canon EOS M50 remains a solid choice for stills shooters right now.

The rumors do, though, suggest an EOS M50 II will bridge the specs and features gap to the more recent Canon EOS M6 Mark II, while retaining features like the electronic viewfinder and vari-angle screen that set it apart from other EOS M cameras. Here’s everything we know about it so far.

Release date and price

The original Canon EOS M50 came out in February 2018, so it’s nearing its two-year birthday. Despite its relative age, the latest whispers from Canon Rumors suggest an EOS M50 Mark II won’t be announced until September 2020.

Still, that fits the release schedule of other EOS M cameras like the EOS M6, which was succeeded around two-and-a-half years after its release by the EOS M6 Mark II.

There are no rumors about pricing for the M50 Mark II yet. Like the current model, it’ll sit below the flagship Canon EOS M6 Mark II, which costs $850 / £870 / AU$850. The original EOS M50 cost $680 / £540 / AU$780 when it launched, so a price around that ballpark seems likely (or perhaps slightly more, given its improved specs).

Given that the Mark II isn’t likely to be available until later in 2020, the original EOS M50 remains a good buy at its current discounted price, as long as you’re prepared to accept its 4K video-related limitations. That price could be reduced even further during Black Friday, so keep an eye out for deals on our best Black Friday Camera deals hub.

Specs and features

So far, the latest whispers from Canon Rumors have only produced some basic possible specs for the EOS M50 Mark II.

These include a new 32.5MP APS-C CMOS sensor, which feels like a given given its inclusion in the more recent EOS M6 Mark II. That sensor gives you a big resolution boost over the 24.1MP EOS M50, which means greater potential for cropping your shots.

The rumors also suggest the M50 Mark II will have a Digic 8 processor, which is the same one as the current model. The EOS M50 was actually the first camera with this processor, so it’s possible Canon will be able to squeeze more performance out of it in the Mark II. The flagship EOS M6 Mark II, for example, can shoot at 14fps with continuous autofocus, slightly more than the M50’s 10fps maximum.

Still, we'd ideally like to see the EOS M50 Mark II powered by the Digic 9 processor that could make its debut in the Canon EOS 1DX Mark III. That would really make it a little powerhouse of an APS-C camera, though it's possible Canon might save this for its higher end models.

Perhaps the most interesting rumors revolve around the M50 Mark II video shooting capabilities. This is currently one of the EOS M50’s main weaknesses, given it can only shoot 4K with a 1.6x crop and at 24p or 25p. It seems like the EOS M50 II, though, will be boosted to much more respectable uncropped 4K / 30p mode, will Full HD shooting at a slo-mo 120p.

This is a particularly big deal for the M50 because its vari-angle screen makes it well-suited to vlogging. A major downside of the current model’s cropped 4K video is that it makes it difficult to film at arms length or in tight spaces. But getting close to matching the EOS M6 Mark II’s video quality would make it a much better all-rounder for those who have a mixed shooting diet of both stills and video.

The rumors suggest that vari-angle screen will remain a 3-inch, 1.04-million dot affair, but there have been no leaks yet about upgrades to the electronic viewfinder (EVF), autofocus or battery life, which was another limitation on the EOS M50. The EOS M50 Mark II will hopefully go beyond 235 shots per charge, or at least give us in-camera USB-C charging.

Design

There haven’t yet been any leaks showing the possible design of the EOS M50 Mark II yet, though a recent patent suggests Canon may have found a way to make its mirrorless full-frame and APS-C cameras a little smaller.

As Canon News pointed out, the patent shows a design that moves the shutter motor from its traditional position next to the battery compartment to beneath the shutter assembly. This could allow Canon to make the EOS M50 Mark II a little smaller, though it won’t be a drastic change given the current M50 is already lighter than the EOS M6 Mark II and needs room for that viewfinder.

Canon cameras are renowned for their considered handling and it’s unlikely to make the EOS M50 Mark II too small at the expense of its ability to balance out longer lenses like the EF-M 18-150mm f/3.5-6.3 IS STM.

It’s early days for Canon EOS M50 Mark II rumors, so that’s all we have for now. We’ll update this page regularly with more rumors as soon as they surface, so stay tuned.

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cheapshoesggdb-blog · 5 years

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todaynewsstories · 6 years

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Could oil nation Norway help save the climate? | Environment| All topics from climate change to conservation | DW

For those of us who thought installing solar panels, planting trees and switching to an electric car would do the trick, this month’s report from the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change was a startling wake-up call.

The world is facing climate catastrophe, and urgent and unprecedented changes are needed, it said. That includes carbon capture and storage (CCS), a technology that in the past has been fraught with problems.

CCS is extremely expensive, and critics have long argued that it is nothing but an excuse for the fossil fuel industry to carry on as normal, to the detriment of the growth of renewable alternatives. Yet in Norway, the technology is gaining traction. Little surprise, given the country’s continued plans to exploit oil.

“The climate challenge is so big that you have to use all the tools that you have in your toolbox,” said Trude Sundset, CEO of Gassnova, the Norwegian state company responsible for finding CCS solutions for the future.

While renewable energy production is growing quickly, many industries like cement and steel emit vast amounts of CO2 in their production processes. This is where carbon capture technology is the only solution — apart from shutting down production altogether, argued Sundset.

“You can put as many solar panels on all the cement factories as you want, but you will still have very high CO2 emissions from this industry,” she said. “And the only solution that we know of today is to capture the CO2 and store it underground.”

Read more: The rise of wooden skyscrapers

First project on the horizon

With Norwegian government support, Gassnova is now entering the final stages of a pilot project that could see the first full-scale carbon capture plants installed at a cement factory and a waste incinerating facility. Each would capture 400,000 tons of CO2 annually — that’s equivalent to the emissions from 171,000 cars.

“The process of making cement in itself emits a lot of CO2, and the total cement production in the world represents 5 to 7 percent of the total CO2 emissions every year,” said Per Brevik, director of sustainability and alternative fuels at Heidelberg Cement Northern Europe, part of Gassnova’s pilot project.

Read more: Concrete answers to a recycling problem

The plant, a two-hour drive south of the Norwegian capital Oslo, has already tested various carbon capture methods and hopes the full-scale solution will be up and running by 2024.

“We will take out the CO2 from the flue gas, condition it and store it on the bottom of the North Sea,” explained Brevik.

Oslo’s Klemetsrud waste incinerator plant is one of two pilot projects for full-scale carbon capture and storage technology

Financial incentive: Higher emissions taxes?

The idea of removing CO2 from the air to store it in porous rock under the seafloor is not a new one. Norway’s state energy company, Equinor, has run a CCS plant on one of its natural gas platforms in the North Sea since 1996, proving the technology works.

That particular project makes economic sense, thanks to Norway’s €52 ($60) per ton CO2 emissions tax on offshore oil and gas installations. Equinor would have had to fork out €105,000 a day to release the CO2 into the atmosphere, making CCS a cheaper alternative.

“The problem is, there is no business model for this [onshore],” said Sverre Overa, a project director at Equinor. The current European CO2 tax is less than €20 euro per ton — although, that price is set to increase in 2019.

“The quota prices that exist are not sufficient today to cover the cost both of capturing and storing the CO2,” said Overa. “Over time we believe that gap will be closing. Deploying more and more of these facilities will bring the cost curve down, like it has for renewables.”

Read more: Dip in China’s CO2 emissions sparks cautious optimism

Could oil and gas know-how save the day?

Perhaps somewhat paradoxically, Norway’s experience with offshore oil and gas exploration could start benefiting the environment. Gassnova is now using this technical know-how to prepare a CO2 storage infrastructure that could be implemented across Europe.

Read more: Engineering the climate — is it a good idea?

Captured CO2 will be liquefied and transported on ships to a facility on Norway’s western coast. From there, it can be piped out to the North Sea and pumped some 3,000 meters (about 10,000 feet) down into porous rock formations.

“If we succeed in setting up our own infrastructure, industries in the UK, Germany and elsewhere can see that if they capture their emissions from their industry they can actually send it somewhere and somebody will make sure it is safely stored,” said Gassnova’s Sundset.

Industry insiders have said there is already interest in the Norwegian CCS model from companies elsewhere in Europe.

“Norway is very much one of the front-runners on CCS in Europe, it’s really shown that CCS can be deployed as a technology to help reduce CO2 emissions on an industrial scale,” said Luke Warren of the Zero Emission Platform, an interest organization for the CCS industry and research groups, which also advises the European Commission on the technology.

“The next phase of Norway’s program, which is developing the infrastructure to enable capture from multiple industrial sources, is really exciting. And I think if this project is realized, there will be opportunities for other sources within Europe to access the infrastructure there,” he said.

Dependent on government support

Previous Norwegian governments have shelved large-scale CCS projects, but the current administration has so far provided the necessary funds for the pilot projects.

Read more: Can we live in a world without fossil fuels?

In its latest budget proposal in October, the government set aside a further €71 million for the development of CCS technology. It has promised a final decision on whether to go ahead with the two full-scale carbon capture plants and the infrastructure for CO2 storage under the North Sea by 2021.

The total cost has been estimated to be €1.6 billion. Energy companies Equinor, Shell and Total are already involved in the development of Norway’s CCS project, carrying some of the costs alongside the Norwegian state. But it remains to be seen who will foot the majority of the final bill.