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#dai timeline might be stupid in this post. because it is a joke and i havent played dai in like 5 years
eastgaysian · 2 months
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SHIV: is this serious? kendall's leading the inquisition now?
FRANK: mm. the 'herald of andraste,' apparently.
TOM: no, he can't call himself that. can he?
SHIV: he shouldn't. it's insane. he's having some kind of—public mental breakdown, and nobody's stopping him. we can't give him our support.
ROMAN: i mean, it's not up to you, shiv. if we don't back him when the templars do, it kind of makes us look like we're too busy jerking off in a palace to do anything about a world-ending crisis.
SHIV: it makes us look like we're still sane. we need to get a handle on him before this escalates into an international incident. he's not stable. he's petitioning heads of state to supply troops using the old grey warden treaties.
TOM: he's a warden-commander now, too?
SHIV: he could decide he is in the next week. he could ruin us, politically, probably financially, and there's no telling how the orlesians might react—
[Enter LOGAN.]
LOGAN: fucking rifts! demons getting spat out in the middle of the street! you try to reason with mages and they tear open the sky. after what happened in kirkwall i don't know why every knight-commander didn't invoke the right of annulment. what's this about kendall?
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qqueenofhades · 3 months
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Is it normal that I’m legitimately so scared of saying pretty morally tame things like “I don’t want to talk about genocide because it makes me severely uncomfortable” or in general expressing my political opinion.
Like i’m not even kidding when I say that all my drafts are just my possibly offensive (probably not) political takes i’m just so scared of everyone leaving me it’s not even funny.
Anyway i also think that if you talk about Palestine but not Ukraine you are a victim of Russian Propaganda™️
I’m sorry I don’t know why i did this have a nice day ok baiiiiiii
Here's the thing. You and every other average social media user should not have to masquerade as a sudden in-depth expert on every single social, political, humanitarian, etc. crisis that we are dealing with in this wretchedly miserable excuse for a timeline. It should not be a baseline expectation on you that when you log onto your little social media in your little average life, you have to come up with The Correct Opinions on everything and if you don't, you're "perpetrating oppression" by not vigorously spreading misinformation, instead of simply admitting that you don't know what to do, you as an average citizen are not in a position of making this change and therefore don't actually have to spend every waking minute obsessing about it, and that maybe, just maybe, you'd like to spend more time informing yourself until and/or IF you decide you want to talk about it. This is the same as the Instagram Activists (TM) who traumatize themselves to the point of PTSD by constantly consuming torture and/or war porn and/or graphic content about murdered children because they "don't have the right to look away." Actually, you do. You are able to make choices to control your personal social media use and to set boundaries as to what you do and do not want to do and/or see, rather than insisting that the only moral choice is to literally mentally destroy yourself with all the weight of human suffering in the world and then expected to act as a de facto expert on all of it, on pain of being Cancelled. This is a stupid, irrational, unhealthy, and generally idiotic expectation. You should not have to take part in it. Nobody should.
Likewise, I think that this is a large part of why people are so scared to voice any opinion that goes against the Prevailing Groupthink: they are afraid of losing friends, of having nasty bad-faith internet trolls say mean things about them, being accused of being a "bad person," or otherwise being guilt-tripped, shamed, and blamed for not centering their entire existence around something that they cannot actually do anything about. Once again, people think the only way you can be Known to Oppose Something Problematic (tm) is if you post on social media about it all the time. Forget whatever you might be doing offline, in your real life, or otherwise; it "doesn't count" if you don't make a big virtuous display of your Rightthink, or you will be viciously harassed. Now, look, I am old and/or tired enough that I don't give a shit what stupid internet users say about me, but I can tell you that I sure did when I was younger, it was incredibly painful to be on the end of those kinds of attacks, and it's (again!) not something you should just have to expect as a baseline level of gaslighting and harassment. As I have said. This is Tumblr. It is a stupid blue website mostly for fandom and/or three in-jokes. This is not a platform where we are expected To Do Social Justice all the time, nor should it be. As for Elon Musk's Twitter: yeah. No.
Also: yes, if you do spend all your waking moments obsessing over Palestine, but say nothing whatsoever about Ukraine and/or openly support Russia, you are in fact very much a victim of Russian Propaganda and you 100% support genocide when it's done by an "anti-western" state that you support for that reason alone. You only care because you can use the cause to make yourself look morally superior, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with opposing genocide on a basic, universal, or fundamental level. The end.
(I hope you have a nice day too. The anger in this is not directed at you. I support everything you've said here and hope that you're able to set healthy boundaries and protect yourself.)
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statementlou · 7 months
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Hi there! Hope you are well.
Would you mind explaining my stupid brain the joke behind Parmageddon?
I have been checking all the shit posts and fandom discourse too but I'm really not understanding the joke behind parmageddon, maybe because I don't know anything about western food culture references. I googled the word but still couldn't get the joke.
of course!! it's not you at all it's like 5 layers of fandom history to unravel, you'd never be able to google it! The word is a mash-up of Parma and Armageddon; parma like parmesan as mentioned today, but mostly like parma ham which was famously part of the meal Louis has referred to many times over the years as his "first ever cooking experience" and as his most romantic gesture for a partner. He cooked a meal of chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham (with a side of homemade mash) during the very early days for... uh, well for someone who he was dating! He later told the story and said he'd made it for Eleanor: but the picture of him at the stove captioned "Louis' first ever cooking experience" (by Harry) from the time would seem to suggest otherwise (even by their admittedly extremely flexible timeline I don't think he and Eleanor had met yet.) I mean I feel like he was publicly telling the story for ages before she ever came on the scene? Anyway he used the story as a go to answer so many times in those years that him and Harry even developed a series of hand motions mimicking making the dish to go along with it. It's a big larry fandom Thing, and was what he was referring to today when he replied to the tweet about... well a totally different chicken dish, but one that had a similar word in it and that's what he was referring to, assuming that the person who asked him how to make chicken parmesan was trying to get him to say some larry thing (she says she actually just wanted to make fun of him for not knowing how to cook, which, legit). ...ANYYYYWAY you might know all that stuff and just have been confused about the made up word but anyway uh there's some context😅
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winns-stuff · 1 year
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Happy Holidays!
Saw your latest post and couldn't agree more. I first saw those panels of Ares chasing and tackling Persephone without context. He looked so menacing that I thought he became an antagonist, might as well since RS made him into such a creep, for a brief moment he was even more terrifying than Kronos. Also the attempted seduction after his reveal was so gross and tone deaf, considering the fact that Persephone still hadn't processed her trauma, or if it happened the reader didn't see it, we're meant to take Apollo's behavior as reprehensible yet Ares being a sleeze is comedic😬?
Thank you, I’ve been saying this forever! There’s such a weird double standard with certain characters which is so weird to me. No one treats Ares tricking Persephone into kissing him seriously even when she was still a minor and he was basically an adult, it’s just very very creepy how they met and I don’t know why but Rachel thought it was a good idea to make a whole joke about it. The first time we ever saw Ares he was crossing boundaries with Persephone and physically touching her while also giving her no personal space even though she was uncomfortable. I know he just wanted to make her upset but the story treats it as such a small thing and brushes off their whole interaction, just for Hades to show up and “save her” which was stupid because he also physically touched Persephone as well.
This is why a lot of people believe that what happened to Persephone in the story was only really made to push Hades and Persephone together more. Here we have multiple guys touching her all without her consent and there’s not even a shred of any sort of traumatic response or anything. She’s irritated yes, and angry about it but it’s all made out to be a joke you can tell because of those stupid fucking faces that she does. It all seems like weird playful banter even though Persephone obviously doesn’t look or feel comfortable with any of it. But then once again after that stressful experience she’s scooped up in the hands of Hades, and he immediately crosses into her personal space. This is like days after what happened to her everyone! Lore Olympus’s timeline is so incredibly short and it only feels long because every single episode is dragged out and full of flashbacks for no reason or real purpose.
Persephone was basically made for men it seems. She needs men to confide in, she tells men everything, she’s comfortable with men, and it’s so incredibly insane to me because there’s barely any men on Demeter’s land. It was filled with nymphs who were women so the fact that she barely even interacts with women is just… Out of character really considering her background. It seems like if we’re not talking about Apollo or if we don’t see him Persephone’s trauma is nonexistent. I know all survivors are different, trust me when I tell you that but this just seems way too unrealistic for me. There’s no way that after everything that happened to Persephone she’s okay with being touched and grabbed by anyone especially men. After days… That’s just insane.. It doesn’t even work like that so it just comes off very disingenuous.
But anyways, I agree with you that all the men should be held at the same standard. It’s obvious to see that Ares is very much obsessed with Persephone (which is a huge fucking eye roll, I know that some say that in the original myth Persephone was wanted by many but this feels so cringe, like incredibly annoying and self absorbed almost considering the circumstances of Lore Olympus) just like Apollo is also, bonus one!!! Hades. They’re all unhealthily obsessed with Persephone and they want her all to theirselves without regarding her emotions. They’re pretty much all the same character really, they’re all very predatory and the fact that people think they’re better is insane to me.
Sorry for this long rant I only intended it to be small, but then I started rambling so.. yeah. But thank you so much, Happy holidays to you too! I hope they’re going good for you!
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liloinkoink · 2 years
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lamplight time! did i write continuation to the last bit i posted the other day? no i did not! i’ve hopped earlier in the timeline: martyn’s first attempt at traveling with a sentient fire, from outsider pov
Nights at the Drowsy Dragon Inn are never particularly exciting, except for those when the inn sees an adventuring party. Most of them set out from the little town to make the hard trek up to the ruins of the city of Dogwarts, and very few of them come back. Sadie likes to entertain the thought that they simply traveled elsewhere instead, finding another town to spend the night after a successful adventure. Then another party will breeze through, talking of the incomplete quest’s impressive reward money, and she knows.
She usually feels bad for them, hearing them talking about that place, and give them a secret little discount for their stay. Her husband thinks that it’s stupid.
“They’re going to die anyway,” he says. “They’re not gonna need the money.”
It’s the principle of the thing, she tells him. She’s being nice. How could she not? On a mission like that, it’s possible it’ll be the last nice thing anyone will ever do for these people.
It’s not like they never come back. Sometimes they do. Whole parties return, empty-handed but alive, and she charges them a perfectly normal amount fee.
But sometimes…
Tonight, a man comes in alone. Sadie recognizes him, but only sort of—He’d come in with a party of four a few months back. She remembers them because they’d been noisy, chattering and shouting constantly. The whole time they’d been here, they’d been riling each other up and laughing long and loud. They’d been difficult to miss for the nights they stayed here, making it even harder to miss now the way quiet follows the lone traveler as the door shuts behind him.
Sadie remembers him especially because he’d been friendly, having been the one to pay for the rooms here when the four had stayed. He’d been lively then, chuckling under his breath as he’d walked up to the counter and cracking jokes as he’d handed over their fate.
There’s no laughter now. No little party of friends. Just one man, passing through the front room of the Drowsy Dragon Inn at half past midnight. His hair’s a mess, tufts of blond hair sticking out in clumps, sweaty bangs dried to his forehead. There’s stains on his clothes—mud on his pants, sweat on his chest, soot on his sleeves. He’s not bloody, at least, but he’s dirty, and there’s tears in the fabric that look like must’ve been attacked. He’s wearing, she notes, the same faded green shirt he’d been wearing when he’d been here months ago, the cleanliness of which she decides not to think anything more of.
He’s also carrying a torch. That’s not super unusual—travelers carry them at night to keep monsters at bay. Most travelers extinguish them when they get to a well-lit town, though she supposes with the way the rest of him looks, she can excuse him forgetting.
His name had been—… uh. His name had started with… it’d started with… J, she’s pretty sure. John, maybe. James?
Regardless of what his name might be, the man walks up to her counter. She sets aside the book she’d been reading and smiles at him. He tries to return it, but he’s out of breath, and he takes a moment to catch it, resting his free hand on the counter. Did he run all the way here? Dogwarts isn’t close. He must have been running for days.
“Hello,” she says, smiling anyway, “Need a room?”
“You have no idea,” says… oh, was his name Jack? No, not Jack… “I don’t have any money on me, but if there’s anything you need help with around here, I’d be more than happy to do it tomorrow morning.”
He’s not the only person to make Sadie a deal like this—it’s not uncommon for adventurers to leave all their money in the care of the most careful member of their party. That’s all well and good till that member runs off and leaves, or worse, is eaten by beasts in the forest outside of Dogwarts (or whatever it is that happens to the people who go).
“It’s starting to get cold,” she says, “If you can bring in enough firewood tomorrow to last me the rest of the month, the room’s all yours.”
“Great. Thank you so much, really,” he sighs, tension draining out of his shoulders. Exhaustion bleeds from every inch of him, and the promise of rest does little to stem it. He reaches down, patting an axe at his belt. It’s damaged, but it shines brightly by the light of his torch. “I’ll get on it first thing after I wake tomorrow.”
“Of course,” she smiles, taking a key from the rack behind her. She holds it out, but before she hands it to him, she points to the torch in his hand. “I’m going to have to ask you to put that out, though. Fire hazard and all.”
It is at this moment when her weary, polite guest becomes unreasonable.
When Sadie points to it, the torch in his hand crackles loudly, and he stares at her a long moment after she speaks, uncomprehending.
“Nnno,” says the man, slowly, as if he’s uncertain. Then, with more conviction, “No. I can’t do that.”
“No,” she repeats. He nods, once.
“I can’t,” he says, “Sorry, it’s really important this doesn’t go out.”
“It’s really important that my inn doesn’t burn down,” Sadie replies.
“It’s not going to catch, I promise,” He insists. The fire in his hand almost seems to dim, as if to prove it. “I’ll be really careful.”
“You’re right, because I’m not letting you stay unless you do the properly careful thing and put it out.”
“I will cut down double the firewood if you don’t make me put this out,” he sounds like he’s pleading. Sadie cannot imagine what could possibly be so taxing about snuffing out a single torch.
“I won’t need any firewood ever again if you burn down my building. Pass,” Sadie says. She knows it’s a low blow for the already deeply frazzled man, but she shoots for it anyway, certain it’ll be the end: “You already can’t pay. Either put it out or sleep outside.”
The man’s face falls. The torch flares up once, but dies back down immediately. Nothing about this makes Sadie feel better about the situation.
“I’m… a paladin now,” he says, half a non-sequitur, by way of explanation, “I can’t let this go out. It’s a holy flame. Part of my oath.”
“I’ve never heard of an oath like that,” she says. She doesn’t think he has either, if the uncertainty in his voice is anything to go by, but she can’t imagine what he actually needs the torch for if he’s lying.
“It’s more like a pilgrimage, then,” he doubles down, “Please.”
“I’m not letting you bring an open flame into the room,” Sadie says, folding her arms, “This is the last time I’m going to say it. Put it out or leave.”
The man looks around, a bit frantic, and all at once she feels bad for him again. Curse Sadie and her bleeding heart for all these poor, doomed adventurers. She can only imagine what he’s just been through… And his whole party is gone… It must be very hard for him. Grief does strange things to people, doesn’t it? No wonder he’s imprinted on his little torch.
“That’s it!” The man shouts. He drops the sizzling torch onto the counter and runs off to a sitting area in the corner. Sadie jumps back out of her chair, startled, before the sight of an open flame on her wooden countertop catches up with her.
She snaps the torch up off the countertop and, as it sizzles in her hands, most of her pity for the man goes up in smoke. Running her hand over the wood where the torch had been, Sadie finds there are no scorch marks. It’s a pleasant sort of warm, but certainly not hot enough for having just been in contact with a live fire.
Said man, for his part, doesn’t even seem to notice her distress. When she looks up, he’s too busy scrambling onto one of the tables, planting his dirty boots onto the clean wood as he reaches for one of the lanterns dangling from the ceiling.
“Hey!” Sadie yells, “Get down from there!”
“I just need to borrow this real quick!” he says, which doesn’t actually address what she said at all, but then he has the lantern free.
There’s a slam as the man jumps off of the table and onto her floor, carting the large lantern with him. He drops it on the counter, grinning all the while.
“You said you can’t have an open flame,” he says, “So if I stick the fire in here, I’m good, right?”
Sadie opens her mouth to respond. She feels like there’s a dozen reasons she should say no to that, but it dawns on her that if she does, she’s going to have to keep arguing with him.
“Fine.” She holds the key out to him, sighing, “But when you leave tomorrow, I want my lantern back.”
“I can do that,” He takes the key, stuffing it into his pocket, and then takes the torch back. He unlatches the lantern with one hand, then dips the torch inside, touching it against the candle within.
Sadie watches him, if only because he’s doing it on her counter. The wick catches, and then the whole wax stick explodes into flame. The man doesn’t flinch, though Sadie does, jumping back at the audible fwoomp of the fire taking it over all at once.
Strangely enough, the torch goes out. He hums, then sets the scorched wood aside without any further inspection, like this doesn’t surprise him.
“Alright. We’re all good, then?” he says, patting the lantern with one hand. It sizzles, though he doesn’t acknowledge it.
“All good,” Sadie confirms, because she isn’t sure what else to do. The man grins, exhausted but relieved, and the lantern in his hands seems to glow brighter with it.
“Awesome. Thank you, dude, I really needed to sleep in an actual bed,” he says, picking up the lantern with both hands. The metal will probably be too hot to touch directly soon, but he doesn’t seem phased by it yet.
“Sadie,” Sadie says.
“Martyn,” he replies, and with that, he’s gone, taking his lantern to the room down the hall.
Sadie watches him go a moment, then sits back down, taking up her book. Where did she get the J from…?
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schismusic · 5 months
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Redecorating
I've done some pretty stupid shit in my life but this, this whole thing (imagine I'm gesturing around indistinctly with a ghastly look on my face), totally takes the cake. Is it funny if I do the tapping-the-mic-to-check-if-it-works gag in a written post?
It started when I was about to turn fifteen and trying to bed a girl - she honestly dodged a bullet when she said no, I cannot lie to you all. Anyway I guess I absolutely had to find an outlet for being an annoying teenager and being an asshole irl simply didn't cut it sometimes, you know how it is, most of us are here for that exact same reason.
A number of things have happened since I last posted on this hellsite. The short version is as follows:
I had an identity crisis, or two, or five;
I got a driver's license, somehow;
a worldwide pandemic hit, but I guess this is another one of those things that make us equal on this postapocalyptic landscape of a microblogging platform;
just as inexplicably as my driver's license, I also got a beautiful and lovely girlfriend of almost three years now;
who knows, I might even get a degree before 2024 is over.
This is all fine and dandy, of course, but sometimes a dude just needs to scream into the void, wherein "the void" in this case is about two hundred (!!!!) strangers on the internet, which probably includes you, dear reader. Thanks for sticking with me over these troublesome years of absolutely nothing happening on this blog.
What's new then?
Number one: "what the fuck kinda name is schismusic?"
Hi, my name is schismusic. I thought of this ungodly name when I was, as mentioned, a very pretentious fourteen-year-old, and it absolutely shows. However,
one could argue it's part of the charm in a way;
it grants a bit of relative anonimity compared to my other, more beloved Internet alias (which will inevitably come crashing against my inevitable post concerning my band and the record we made a while ago - more on this later);
somehow, it stuck. You people will eat up just about fucking anything, really!
(Another thing that happened: I learned a tiny bit of HTML, because Letterboxd is yet another hellsite I'm not-quite-proudly a part of. Gotta catch 'em all. I love being annoying with HTML formatting as a matter of fact, it's quite liberating to pretend to know that you can code in front of a billion strangers on the Internet.)
Number two: "so is this asshole gonna post fake hipster music on my timeline yet again?"
Not really, or at least not just that. First order of business is that reblogging is fun, but it overstays its welcome when you do it irresponsibly. It also quite literally goes contrary to this blog's original self-appointed mission and this cannot go unchecked. Pretension is law! Bad taste is every single one of this blog's ten commandments! I hate you all more than I hate myself!
Jokes aside, my point is exactly that I want to be a bit less annoying on the Internet for once. Consequently, I have decided to extend the range of posts on this blog beyond the relatively usual songs and reach into short- and medium-form writing (fiction, nonfiction, maybe even reviews: anything goes), pictures I take (the true OGs might remember I used to post my own drawings from time to time: that's not entirely out of the question for the future, it's just that it's been a while since I've last drawn anything worthwhile) and obviously shameless self-promotion (remember me mentioning my band a couple paragraphs above? Well, here is our record on Bandcamp, Spotify and YouTube; and no, my dear OGs, this is not the same band I used to talk about back in the day! This is a whole new project for you to check out), both in Italian and English, and maybe even some Spanish if I actually take my Spanish to a functional level.
As a corollary of this final point, I will not be deleting my old content, so that the new people on here can get to enjoy a whole cornucopia of cringe circa-2014 content.
Finally, since this is primarily a music blog, the obligatory soundtrack to the writing of this post:
Shoutout to literally every single one of you people for somehow not getting tired of waiting through these years of inactivity, or maybe you just forgot that I existed. If it's the second one, I hope this post was a fun throwback, and that this time you remember to unfollow me for good like you probably wanted to do back when I was active and annoying on here.
It's good to be back.
Love, schismusic
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stevensavage · 1 year
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Dungeons and Marios: Honor Among Brothers
(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve's Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)
I consider the films Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves and the Super Mario Brothers movie to be successes as good films. I found them both enjoyable, but also find that both of them work because the people behind them made similar choices.  There’s a lot of lessons there, and you know me, I’m definitely going to write it down. 
Let me pause to note I do not consider them to be of equal quality.  The Dungeons and Dragons movie is fun, emotionally resonant, and both grand yet very human.  The Super Mario Brothers film is a fun romp with some clever choices, but not as deep.  But the lessons - even where they both don’t succeed - are illustrative.
So how did two different films do same things, let’s take a look.  There are of course spoilers here, so here there be dragons (or Koopas).
Be Fun and Entertaining
Both movies are actually fun.  There’s action, there’s jokes, there’s actors and actresses giving it their all.  I had a good time at both. Super Mario Brothers was so snappy and tight I didn’t even take a break.
Fun can be forgotten, especially when you already have other things on your mind like adaption.  But you have to give people a reason to pay attention beyond “hey I adapted this.”  Be it Chris Pine being a charisma bomb or a brain-twisting Mario scene where the infamous Rainbow Road is realized, give people a reason to enjoy it.
You can also tell people enjoyed making them, both have a joy to them.  Which probably says a lot about why they work as well.
Don’t Run Away From What You Are
The Dungeons and Dragons film is just like the games - not the books.  A group of confused dumbasses get into trouble and save the day.  It feels like a gaming session, right down to bad luck and unwise choices.
The Super Mario Brothers movie is colorful, bright, and strange. There are moments it has homages to the games and gameplay, but outside of those it runs on a kind of game logic.  It feels like a game and doesn’t apologize at all.
This is what people came for.  I do not come wanting an explanation of Mordenkainen’s magic or how to use a Fire Flower.  I want to see hypercompetent stupidity and someone yelling “wahoo” he stomps on evil turtles.  And I got it.
Use It But Don’t Overexplain
Dungeons and Dragons brings decades of history, rules, rules changes, rules arguments, novels, adaptions, and more.  What do you do with that?  Well, it’s raw material but you tell a story first - ten minutes of rules are boring but the sorcerer Simon struggling to “attune” to a magical item is interesting because it’s about a person.
Meanwhile the Mario film inherits a disjointed series of games and events without an exact timeline or even consistency.  The film takes a pile of stuff and forges it into a setting but also doesn’t explain it much.  Power ups just exist - what matters is how you use them.  An industro-solarpunk kingdom of apes just exist - what matters is if you can make them allies.  Tell a story - besides people already bought into the premise of plumbers teleported to this cartoony realm anyway.
The stuff you adapt is fuel for an actual story.
Get A Cast That Works
Want a good adaption?  Get a cast that will embrace the roles and bring things to life so people feel and enjoy the film.  Even the best script is nothing without the right cast.
Dungeons and Dragons cast is stellar.  It’s like a movie filled with leads that just happens to center on Chris Pine’s bard, Edgin.  From the humor to the pathos, the cast brings you into the film.  A few characters might have been used better or given more depth, but everyone used what they got and then some.
Super Mario mostly does the same thing.  Jack Black owns his role as Bowser and brings pathos to the character (more later).  Anya Taylor-Joys Princess Peach is fantastic, badass, and charming enough she’s sort of the main character at times.  Charlie Day is terribly underused as Luigi, but clearly brought is A game.  I could compliment others, but you get the idea.  The film is inherently ridiculous but the cast is game, as it were.
Now Chris Pratt is the elephant in the room.  Regarding his problematic statements, I looked into them for this article, and it appears he’s not bigoted, but is not always thoughtful or good at reading a situation.  Regarding his acting, he can “phone it in” but can really shine when he sinks his teeth into a role.
That being said, his Mairo performance was extremely generic.  It was enough to move things along and make Mario human, but he didn’t add anything to the role.  Whether it’s his fault or the scriptwriters, I’m not sure.  I also noticed the animators did some amazing expression work with Bowser and Peach and wondered if they were more restrained with Mario.
Either way, lesson learned - get a cast that’s good and let them go.
Give Us Real Emotional Arcs
The Dungeons and Dragons movie brought tears to my eyes, once during That Scene at the end (if you saw it, you know), and once afterwards when I realized how I related to a character’s speech.  The movie has multiple emotional arcs that bring it to life, give characters reasons to do things, and help you connect.
This is not consistent among the cast or characters, and I blame the script.  It’s a perfectly fine script, but a few more scenes could have done wonders.  But what is there is good.
Believe it or not Super Mario Brothers does this too, multiple times.  In fact, there’s a scene where Mario and his original nemesis Donkey Kong find out they’re a lot alike.  When a cartoon plumber and a big monkey share parallel emotions, you’ve done something right.
However Super Mario Brothers also doesn’t dive into the emotional arcs as well as Dungeons and Dragons and is poorer for it.  There’s some unused potential, from Mario feeling defensive about Luigi to Princess Peach’s isolation as a lone human in her world.  There’s unexplored character motivations, such as Toad’s heroic drive that differentiates him from his fellows.  I feel there’s 5-10 minutes of cut footage that made it a better movie.
But the lessons stay the same.  In fact  . . .
Give Us Relatable Villains
Hugh Grant, playing con-man Forge  charms his way through the Dungeons and Dragons movie in a way only he could.  Daisy Head’s creepy sorceress Sofina is something out of a horror film, and you believe she’d like nothing more to murder the idiots surrounding her.  Both get scenes that aren’t just villainy but humanity - Forge finds a joy in adoptive fatherhood, and Sofina snaps over how annoying Forge is in a relatable way.
This is great, they’re enjoyable.  They get human moments - but only the acting covers the fact they’re otherwise paper-thin characters.  Both could have shown more depth with just a few tweaks or an extra scene or two.  The actors clearly work with what they have, but there could have been more.
Meanwhile let me commit blasphemy - Jack Black’s Bowser in Super Mario not only gets to be relatable, his character is better handled than the villains in Dungeons and Dragons.
Yes I went there.
Black’s Bowser is a terrifying warlord and a hopeless romantic.  Madly in love with Princess Peach, he hopes to impress her and marry her instead of conquering her kingdom (sort of).  Throw in Black’s performance with excellent animation, and Bowser becomes sympathetic, a kind of ridiculously Shakespearean character of extremes.  If anything, I felt there was more to explore.
Both films add villains with some understandable traits.  Super Mario does it better.  Forge and Sofina aren’t interesting enough on their own, but Black’s Bowser feels like he could carry an entire film.
Do A Film Not A Preview
As I’ve said before, I will compliment the Marvel movies on sheer competency. However, I’m also extremely tired that the interlinked nature of stories seems to “wash out” the films.  There’s that need to keep the mega-franchise going, and there’s a certain “safety” in choices that wears thin.  Make something that stands on its own – like these films!
Dungeons and Dragons and Super Mario Brothers are delightfully standalone.  They do their job, they deliver.  Sure you may care due to the games - in fact it’s the only reason to care about Super Mario Brothers.  But both stand on their own quite well and in a satisfying manner.
There’s just that thrill of being able to “close the book” and move on with each.  Both deserve sequels of some kind, but its nice to see them deliver and be done.  It helps the people making them focus, and it means each film is reliably complete.
In Conclusion
So there you have it.  Both of these adaptions based on games, both wildly different, really succeed due to the same choices.  Embrace what you do, don’t overexplain, get the right cast and real emotional arcs we feel.  That’s it.
It feels unnecessary to explain this, but maybe the fact I feel this says volumes about the poor media I’ve seen - and how I enjoyed these two pieces.  Let’s learn from them, and maybe apply these lessons to things beyond giant big budget movies.
Steven Savage
www.StevenSavage.com
www.InformoTron.com
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yami-the-outcast · 2 years
Text
Basil joins the Battle
So, got me another small blurb about my man Basil, and more specifically that part where I mentioned he doesn't get a stand until DIU. Figured I'd post said blurb because why the heck not? It's a kinda rough timeline and some of the math might not add up, but I did my best so eff off.

He didn’t have to breathe.. So why the hell was he suffocating? In his 131 years of life, Basil hadn’t experienced something like this before.. Not in a long time, he hadn’t been.. Afraid… Of all the people who could possibly hunt down a serial killer, it seemed a no-brainer to send the vampire. Even in the day, under the shade of his umbrella, Basil was stronger and more capable than most stand users despite being without one himself. Jotaro thought he was foolish for it, but ultimately had no say in what Basil did, and after all there was little that could possibly harm the vampire in a serious way so what harm could it do? It could do.. Some harm… He’d been on the right track, he was sure of it, he’d sensed something off with that odd man, he’d been so close… then something had hit him Something hit him, not a stand, this was.. Something different… Something pierced his throat, something that burned like nothing he’d ever felt before. Not the sun, not hamon energy, this was.. It was something horrendous… He stumbled, making for the darkness of an alley as his umbrella slid from his grasp to tumble to the ground, grabbing for the pain in his throat only to find whatever pierced him was already gone. What.. what had done this!? How the hell could something do this to him!? Basil fumbled for his phone as red stained his clothes, blood he really couldn’t spare spilling out as he tried to call Jotaro, to tell him what he’d found, but it.. Everything was spinning, everything was burning… “Basil? Basil?” Jotaro’s voice came from the device in his hands, but he couldn’t find the breath to answer, and even as he tried to fight it he found himself falling… falling… -- Dammit old man… Jotaro cursed to himself as he scanned the streets, one hand holding his phone to ear as he did, hoping to figure out where the hell the stupid vampire had gone off to. “I don’t see why you’re so worried.. It’s not like he can actually die, can he?” Josuke didn’t seem nearly as concerned with the well-being of the old brit, though he’d still come along at Jotaro’s request when he mentioned Basil had gone looking for Kira. “We don’t actually know a lot about what can and can’t harm him… the SPW isn’t about to do unethical tests, and he’s the only vampire around as far as they’re aware,” Jotaro muttered, though froze when he heard familiar voices from his phone, “call Koichi, he’s somewhere nearby.. Tell him to look for dark places, somewhere to hide…” Josuke’s brow furrowed at this, though did as he was told all the same, pausing a moment before looking wide-eyed to the older male, “he’s… not in good shape..” Jotaro hung up and pocketed his phone, his expression gone dark, “I heard.. Let’s go…” -- Why did he keep on going? He was ages-old by now… everyone from his old life was long-dead… the man who’d caused all this was dead, revenge had burned in his veins for ages but now it had left him cold as time went by. To watch over others? Heh.. that was a joke… They didn’t need him… The Joestars were a tough and hearty line, who attracted trouble wherever they went, and they’d grown to face it without fail every time. He was a relic of the past, something around to just remind them of the old painful days.. Everyone else had gone, Speedwagon, Erina, and Jonathan.. All dust and bones in the ground.. Oh, how they’d react to this odd and wonderful world.. To the kids that were fighting evil.. Heh, they’d love the ridiculousness of it all.. Would they be ashamed of him, for giving up the fight? For letting it all go now? What would Jonathan say to him if he was here now? “I’m not going to kill you… you might have become something that’s.. Not normal.. But you’re not like Dio… for someone who used to be his friend, you’re not evil.. I think you’re going to do great things, however long you live.” Great things, huh? Hm… A hundred and thirty one.. Did that feel like enough time? “Come on old man.. What’s taking you so long?” Had he done all the great things Jonathan expected of him? “Oi, can you hear me? You better not be dying on me… what kind of monster gets offed by a serial killer?” What more did he have to do? “Kingston, I swear to god…” Huh.. that was right… Joestars attracted trouble… and so far, none had faced it alone… Even if he wasn’t being the most useful… he’d made a promise… He was going to be there to face it with them, teach them the things their predecessors had. He wasn’t going to go out now, not now --- Jotaro jerked back as Basil snapped to attention, the older man's eyes wide and wild, irises tinted red as he looked around, fangs bared in instinctive fear and anger at his lost prey, “what-where-ah…” Back in the hotel? So he’d been found.. That bastard had gotten away.. But what happened to him? What was that thing that took him out like that? “Jojo, what the hell hit me-,” He froze, his eyes focusing on something over Jotaro’s shoulder, something that had been hovering over him, encouraging his heart to keep beating as his will fizzled out, the thing that had saved his and many others lives time and time again during that fifty-day trip.. “Well.. so that's Star Platinum…” In time he’d learn about the stand he’d been given, learn how to use Fortunate Son properly in the fights to come, and to Basil there could be no greater gift. He wasn’t going to be left behind in the dust of the past. He was still in this bizarre adventure.
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messrmoonyy · 3 years
Note
Have you seen that popular post of tonks going to Remus class after the war and taking teddy with her? cood your write something with that? Please 😃
I sure have anon! I loved this. Some happiness amongst all the angsty asks I have lmao.
I took some mild creative liberties with the conversational abilities of portraits and the timeline is slightlyyyy wobbly. But enjoy
Read my other writing in my masterlist and feel free to drop me a request
Pairing: Remus lupin x Nymphadora Tonks
Warnings: none
When Tonks woke up Remus was already gone, her fingers reached around blindly on his side of the bed and found nothing but cold sheets and she groaned. In the year that they had been living at Hogwarts with Remus back teaching again, she had gotten herself into the habit of waking up with him. But Teddy had simply refused to sleep last night so she had been up for hours with him so that Remus could sleep. She opened her eyes and saw there was a steaming mug of tea on the bedside dresser with a little note propped against it and she reached over to grab it.
'My dear Dora,
Don't be mad at me for not waking you, you needed to rest. I checked on Teddy before I left. I have a class of 6th years 3rd period so feel free to come down if you want to. I have a free afternoon too, so tea in Hogsmede?
Yours always, Remus'
She smiled and sat up in bed stretching her arms up above her head with a yawn, grimacing slightly as her arm popped. It was one of the main reasons she still hadn’t gotten back fully into working herself, an injury from the war that still hadn’t recovered. The curse still that had hit her making it seem like it might not ever recover properly. Madam Pomfrey saw her once a week to help with it, but it wasn’t much better really.
She felt quite useless some days. She was desperate to get back into working again. She was never one for just lazing around doing nothing. She had been offered her job back at the ministry when ever she was ready to return to it, a hefty promotion waiting for her too. She still dis small things for the ministry, Kingsley has worked very closely with her and Remus on getting equal rights for Lycanthropes, made wolfsbane much more accessible. But for now she didn’t really mind that much, it meant having plenty of time with Remus and Teddy. Now in terms of work she she just helped out around the school where she could, because they didn't mind if she brought Teddy along with her. Some days she helped out in the hospital wing, her extensive knowledge on healing coming in handy. Other days helped with Minervas homework study groups, helped Remus plan his classes, she kept busy.
Teddy started to fuss and she got out of bed with a roll of her shoulder to try ease the morning pain. She peered into his cot to see him wide eyed and awake. He had Remus’ eyes. Big and brown and beautiful. He looked so much like Remus, she knew the older he got he’d simply be a double of his dad. Minerva was already joking that with them looking so identical now she would resign the day he was old enough to attend Hogwarts. With Remus and Tonks as his parents he was certain to have a mischievous streak in him for certain. It was practically fate.
" my silly boy huh " she said as she saw he’d managed to completely change ends he was sleeping on. She smiled, rolling her eyes with a smile and picked him up. His hair was a vibrant shade of red today, like the phone boxes back in London. His hair was the one of the only thing that seemed to change about him at the moment but he was already starting to control it. He had seemed to have learnt how to change his hair to match who he wanted to be held by when he was particularly grumbly. Which made things particularly difficult if they were staying at the Weasleys. But also quite cute when they would visit Harry and a little scar would appear on his head. She didn't even mind that just lately it would go brown more often than pink because seeing Remus and Teddy together was one of the greatest feelings in the world. Seeing Remus happy was one of the greatest feelings in the world. Because he so often would wake up in the night in a cold sweat as his nightmares replayed all the trauma of the war back to him. But work kept him distracted. And Teddy did. And she did. And though he would never admit it, the fact that he was sole income for the family now kept him motivated too.
She carried him over to her bed and sat down with to feed him, knowing that must be the reason he was fussing. It was quite peaceful sitting there in her room with him, it was raining outside and the rain hitting the window panes was almost melodic. Remus loved the rain and she’d grown to love it as well, sometimes convincing him to go out dancing around in it with her. If she listened closer she could hear the chatter of the children, she glanced at the clock and saw second period would be starting in 5 minutes so they were noisily moving between their classes. Even though there were no classrooms by the teachers wing in the castle, she could still hear them.
When Teddy had had his fill she propped him up on her pillows as she opened up his little wardrobe to get him something to wear. There was a quidditch friendly later on the evening, so she pulled out his little hufflepuff quidditch jumper ready. Molly had knitted it for him and it was an almost perfect replica. Even though Harry had tried to convince her he should be wearing Gryffindor. But even Remus agreed Teddy would be a hufflepuff. Through and through.
" wanna go see daddy teach later, hmm? You like being in his classroom don't you? Mummy does too because daddy looks very handsome in his teaching robes doesn't he? He does " she said as started to get him changed, unhooking his foot that he had shoved into his mouth “ are you going to be a good boy whilst he’s teaching? My good boy huh? “ Teddy gurgled an answer and went back to trying to get his foot into his mouth again.
With a half hour or so to go until his 6th year class she left their quarters and took Teddy down to his second favourite place in the castle. In one of the corridors off the main entrance hall a long row of portraits of those that had been lost in the war had been hung. Including one of Sirius. The first time they had seen it both Remus and Dora had cried only to have had the painted Sirius tell them both to grow a pair. But getting to introduce Teddy to his family was worth it, even if it did still make her emotional to see his face and hear his voice again.
When she reached Sirius frame he wasn't in it and she rolled her eyes knowing exactly where he would be. She walked down a couple more portraits to Fred Weasleys. And there was Sirius. Turns out even painting Sirius and Fred were mischievous and Sirius acted like the marauder he once was around Fred as they tried to play pranks on the others in the hall.
" do you ever actually stay in your frame?" Tonks said with a smile, bouncing Teddy lightly on her hip.
" Tonksie! And my little man! " Teddy started laughing as he heard Sirius voice and made grabby hands towards him. Tonks held him to the frame and Sirius pulled stupid faces at the little boy making him laugh even more. She wished Sirius was still around to truly play with Teddy. To make him laugh and turn him into the little prankster she knew he would grow up to be. But a portrait would all she was going to get nowadays. So she took what she could get " where's moons? Teaching? "
" yeah. We're going to see him now. Arent we Ted? Gonna see daddy? “ Teddy’s hair shifted brown at the mention of his dad and with a slight worry he would start crying and disturb classes, she said a quick goodbye to Sirius and made her way down to Remus’ classroom. She was a little early but Remus tended to let his class go early if he knew she was coming down.
And as exactly as she had suspected he had let his 3rd years go early when she arrived and they were piling out of the room. They all smiled as they saw her, all of Remus’ students knowing who she was.
" morning Mrs Lupin! "
" hi Ted! Hi Mrs Lupin! "
" good morning Mrs Lupin, oh hiyya Teddy! " some of the children greeted her as they left the classroom and she smiled at them all eagerly still just loving the sound of ' Mrs Lupin ' as she stepped into the classroom Remus had his back to her, tidying something on his desk and she snuck up behind him, wrapping her free arm around his waist.
" hi " she said softly and stood up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. He turned in her embrace immediately, a smile gracing his faces the sight of his family. He leant down to kiss her only to be disturbed by Teddy yanking on his hair.
" oh I'm sorry, does someone feel left out? " Dora said with a laugh and handed him over to Remus who kissed his nose and both his chubby cheeks.
" kisses for both my favourite people " he held the baby boy up in the air and playfully tried to bite at his little feet making Teddy squeal in delight. Remus was well and truly in his element as a father. He had taken to the role so well and it warmed Doras heart watching them together. He may have had a rocky start. But he was more than making up for it now. He doted on his son, spoilt him completely rotten and showed him all the love and affection she’d known he’d had in him from the start.
Teddy soon became disinterested and far more interested in the model of some small creature on his desk. Remus handed it to him and sat him down on the floor as he gurgled to himself, inspecting the skull as if it was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
“ did you catch up on your sleep? “ Remus asked turning to Dora then as she watched Teddy with a smile “ you look tired darling “ he pulled her into, his hands on her waist. She gave a small shrug and looked up at him. His face was mildly concerned. He always worried too much. Always.
“ a bit “
“ you should’ve stayed in bed. Gotten some more rest “
" I’m fine Remus. Honestly. Besides. I like watching you teach " she said with a smile and hopped up to sit on his desk after a look towards Teddy. He was still babbling to himself as he investigated the small skull, still insanely amused by it.
" people aren't allowed to sit on my desk you know " Remus said and moved to stand in front of her, his hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“ if I recall we’ve done much more than sit on this desk Mr Lupin “ his cheeks flushed and she couldn’t help the giant grin on her face. After all the time since they’d first met she could still get him flustered. She loved it.
" you're a tease you know that? " he murmured and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
" I'm well aware. But you married me didn't you? You signed up for it " he smiled and she brushed her lips against his with an smile to match his. Though he’d barely kissed her for a second when there was the sound of children in the corridor, his next class arriving. Dora gave a small sigh and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before hopping off of the desk and picking up Teddy.
“ you’ll stay? “ Remus asked, straightening up his desk and pulling her back in gently before she could go “ it’s mostly just a study lesson, you won’t be a bother darling “ how could she say no to him when he was looking at her like that? He made her melt. She gave a nod and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before retreating to the back of the classroom so she and Teddy wouldn’t get in the way “ in you come class! “ the children piled in, some stopping briefly to talk to Tonks and Teddy before finding their seats.
She’d attended so many of his classes by now and she’d never seen any children really misbehave. They all seemed to love him, all listening with pure interest in everything he had to say. And maybe it was his parental instinct, but he was practically a father to some of them. They went to him for advice, just to talk, some of the more quiet students would even seek him out at lunch break so they didn’t have to eat alone. There were the odd few that were still coming to terms with the new easing of laws regarding werewolves, having grown up around people always saying they were bad. But everyone quickly grew to love him.
Just like she’d said they would.
He’d been a little hesitant to take on his old job after the war and had declined twice before finally accepting. She’d had the joy of watching him flourish after returning to work, he was truly in his element. He was happier. More confident than ever. And she loved him even more for it.
Teddy remained quite as Remus started teaching, always looking at his father almost in awe. He only became a little restless when Remus set the students off to do their own working, a quiet chatter filling the classroom.
“ Mrs Lupin? “ Tonks turned her head as she heard her name and smiled as Ravenclaw girl looked at her expectantly “ could you give me a hand with this one? “ she happily walked over to the girls desk, crouching down to help her with her questions on the behaviours of Pukwudgies. Teddy continued to wiggle around as she tried to help the student so placed him down to sit by her feet.
She had only taken her eyes off of him for a few moments , but Teddy took his chance and wiggled out of his mothers grasp and crawled away to sit at Remus foot who was stood a few desks away helping a student himself.
" oh- Teddy " Dora hissed and went to snatch her child back to their place in the back of the classroom. But Remus simply bent down and picked Teddy, not even stopping his explanation to his student , and placed him on his hip which made Teddy clap his chubby little hands excitedly. Tonks finished helping the girl before hurrying over to Remus, ready to relieve him of their son. But Remus declined with a smile.
“ it’s okay. Have a break. He’s fine sweetheart “
He held him for the rest of the lesson , even when he brought the classes attention back to the front for the final part of his lecture. He held Teddy in his arm and acted as if it was a perfectly normal thing to teach about the life expectancies of dark creatures with a small child on your hip. None of the students seemed fazed by it either and Dora sat at the back of classroom with a smile so wide it hurt her cheeks. Nothing would ever come close to the sight of Remus happy. So at ease with being a father now, so at ease back in front of classroom. Helping. Teaching. Shaping small futures as he has always dreamt of doing.
And of course the cherry on top. His family. Something he had never thought he could have. He was finally living the life she’d wanted him to have since that first meeting back when she joined the Order. The war was over. He had lived most of his life in war. And now he was finally free. Free with her. And their son.
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chasingpj · 3 years
Text
𝐀 𝐒𝐞𝐭-𝐔𝐩
"We should go pick the strawberries over there. Percy and Y/n can work on the ones here."
pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader
words: 3,887
warnings: none?? pls let me know if i missed anything
timeline: post sea of monsters
if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here
a/n: hi hi! I was supposed to post this yesterday, but oops. I don't have much to say. again, it's a little bit of a slow start just because I want to introduce characters and establish relationship dynamics before getting into the good stuff. anyways, i hope you like it! i love hearing feedback so don't hesitate to reach out to me!
Part One Part Two Part Three
When you were stressed or needed to be alone with your thoughts, you often found yourself in the strawberry fields, either helping collect the harvest or simply sitting on the grass patches nearby. You usually preferred being in the fields alone, peacefully listening to the chirping of the birds and cicadas while inhaling the scent of sun-baked strawberries. However, there were times where you did stumble upon the company of the girls from the Demeter and Aphrodite cabin. You didn't mind hanging out with them, always amused at their banter and choice of conversation. They were always bubbly, taking advantage of the leisure activity to gossip and have girl talk, and it was nice, even if you were just listening.
Today was one of those days where you weren’t alone in the fields. Standing alongside Silena, Katie, and your half-sister, Lou Ellen, you find yourself zoning in and out of their conversation. Their chattering and giggling serve as background noise as you focus on cutting the strawberries from their stems to carefully place them in your basket.
"Who do you think are the cutest boys at camp?" You hear Silena ask when you decide to tune back into their conversation. A silence falls amongst the group; Katie and Lou Ellen were suddenly hesitant to speak. You look up, waiting for one of them to break the silence because it definitely wasn’t going to be you.
"I know what you're doing! You're trying to find out our crushes," Katie points her finger at Silena accusingly. Lou Ellen nods,
“Yeah, we know your tricks, Silena! You’re gonna try and set us up with people.”
"What? No!" Silena denies, but the smirk on her face said otherwise. "I'm just asking in general! You can find someone cute and not have a crush on them,” she points out. The three of you weren’t convinced at Silena’s claims, and the silence returns. You turn back to what you were doing, not really wanting to trap yourself in this conversation, and you decide to leave the pressure of confession to Katie and Lou Ellen.
"Okay.” Katie turns her body to face you. You hesitantly meet her gaze, already knowing what she's going to confess. "... this might be weird, but I think your brother is really cute," she admits, giggling nervously as she looks at both you and Lou Ellen. You scrunch your nose, shaking your head while Lou Ellen joins your reaction as she gags theatrically. The confession didn't surprise you, but it still felt weird to hear it.
"He's ugly!" You exclaim. Silena laughs, her head thrown back as Katie gasps at your insult about Atticus. Even though this wasn't the first time you've heard this from girls at camp, you still found it strange. Even your mortal friends have told you that they think your brother is adorable. You’ll never admit it out loud to anyone, but you were aware that your brother definitely wasn't ugly. Obviously, he wasn't if almost all of your friends had to mention his appearance at least once. Not only was Atticus conventionally attractive, but he was also a natural flirt, so he got attention from girls fairly easily. So much so that before your mother claimed you, Connor and Travis Stoll swore you guys were going to be claimed by Aphrodite.
You've only seen him flirt a handful of times, usually with the wood nymphs and playfully with the girls from the Aphrodite cabin. It was strange seeing girls flirt with him and giggle at all his stupid jokes because that “smooth” Atticus they meet is so different from the Atticus you saw. The Atticus you got to see was a clumsy dork that obsessed over Harry Potter and had a habit of bursting into song whenever he was bored, most often singing his own rendition of a song from a broadway musical or of a rock song from the 90s.
"No, he isn't! His facial structure is amazing!” Katie gushes. “And he's tall and has broad shoulders. He's also really funny!" You and Lou Ellen stare at her with a straight face before simultaneously bursting into laughter.
“He’s a dork!” Lou Ellen chokes through her laughs, and you nod, agreeing with her.
"Hey! I get where Katie is coming from! As his sisters, you guys are biased. Of course, you’re gonna say he's ugly," Silena points out, and you sigh,
“Live with him in the Hermes Cabin for a couple of weeks, and when you see him in his natural state, you won’t find him cute anymore,” you joke. Katie shakes her head,
“I don’t believe you. I bet he’s even cuter! You’re calling him a dork, but jokes on you, I like dorks,” she says playfully, crossing her arms over her chest, and you smile at her.
“To each their own, I guess.”
"What about you? Who do you think is cute?" Silena asks you. You side-eye the other, and you feel your face heat up. You really didn’t want to be the target in this conversation. Turning back to the bushes, you answer her question with a shrug of your shoulders. Silena scoffs, "there has to be someone! We have a good group of guys to choose from at camp."
"I mean, yeah…" you trail off hesitantly, and you feel the stares of the girls as they wait for your answer. You knew they weren't going to let this go, and so, you sigh softly, taking a moment to find the courage to confess. "I guess Percy is cute-"
"Y/n!"
Your breath hitches in your throat, and your shoulder tenses up at the sound of the familiar voice. It was too much of a coincidence that Percy showed up the exact moment you were speaking about him. The girls laugh at your reaction and your cheeks somehow become hotter as Silena smiles at you knowingly. If she didn't sense your crush before, she definitely sensed it now. Snapping your gaze away from her, you find the courage to turn around.
"Hey, Percy," you say, smiling sheepishly. You fiddle with your fingers as you take in his appearance. Percy was wearing his orange camp half-blood shirt and cargo pants. His cheeks were a little flushed at the summer heat, and you assume he probably came from training. As usual, his dark hair was slightly disheveled, and you couldn’t help your lips curling into a soft smile.
"Hey, I've been looking for you. You left these on the dock," he says, presenting the black pouch filled with your crystals in his hand. You gasp softly as you take it from him.
"Oh! Thank you. I can’t believe I forgot them," You shake your head at yourself as you put them in your strawberry basket in the meantime. You didn’t understand how your forgotten crystals never came to your mind once, especially this late in the day.
"No problem. I think they’re all in there," he smiles at you before acknowledging the girls standing behind you. "Hey, guys.”
He furrowed his eyebrows as they giggle amongst themselves. They murmur a few things to each other before turning their gaze to him again.
"Percy, I wanted to ask who do you think is the prettiest girl at camp?" Silena asks as the girls move to surround him. You're stomach flutters crazily with nerves, and you cringe, feeling embarrassed even though Percy was oblivious to the motive behind the question.
Percy looks around him, shifting his weight from one foot to another,
"This… feels like a trap,” he says slowly, making the girls giggle.
"It's not! We just want to know. Anyone, in particular, stands out to you?" Silena steps closer to him.
"Any crushes?" Katie asks.
"There has to be someone, right?" Lou Ellen smiles.
"Um… I- why are you guys asking so many questions?" He mutters, his shoulders tense up as he avoids the stares of the three girls practically towering over him.
"Guys, leave him alone," you laugh shortly. "You don't have to answer all that," you reassure him, cutting through their little circle as you squeeze between Silena and Katie.
You stand beside Percy, the girls deciding to step down and return to their original places. Silena smiles, and you can't tell what she's thinking, but you knew that the smile playing on her lips made you nervous. You awkwardly exchange a look with Percy, noticing that he was just as flustered as you were.
"You know… I noticed that those bushes over there get a lot of sun," Silena says, breaking her silence as she turns to Katie and Lou Ellen. She points at the bushes about three rows from where you were all standing, and Katie nods,
"We should go pick the strawberries over there. Percy and Y/n can work on the ones here." Silena gives you a smirk, winking at you before turning around and taking the other girls with her.
You resume your strawberry picking, chewing on your button lip. You were hoping that he didn't witness Silena wink at you because if he did, it was then way too obvious that the girls spontaneously set up this. There's a silence for a moment, and you feel your palms start to sweat as you try to figure out what you were going to say to him.
"Where's Ambrose?" Percy asks softly, and you glance over for a second, watching as he picks the strawberries beside you.
"Oh, uh, he ran off a little while ago with my brothers. They're probably playing somewhere." You smile, remembering how Ambrose wasted no time, running over to Alabaster and Ernest the moment they had offered to play with him.
"... how do you play with a ghost dog?" Percy gleams, amused at the idea of playing with Ambrose considering he couldn’t touch many things.
"There's a process where you can offer things to his spirit, so he has a few toys that he can play with," you explain. “He and I play with his toys all the time, but he’s with my brother’s right now, so they're probably wrestling."
"What? Really? I wouldn’t want to wrestle Ambrose,” Percy admits as a short laugh comes from his mouth.
"Yeah, me neither. He would definitely win if we did. Once he was so excited to see me; he jumped on me and knocked me down no problem,” you shake your head. “I think he forgets how big he is, and he ends up getting carried away sometimes.”
You look up from what you were doing, unexpectedly meeting Percy’s green eyes that resemble the color of the Caribbean sea as the sun shines into them. The butterflies in your stomach return, and you’re trying not to focus on the fact that the other was already looking at you. You look elsewhere, suddenly too shy to look at him, but your eyes couldn’t help but flicker back to his face. From this close, you noticed things about him that you didn’t see before, like the scattered freckles on his face, his long eyelashes, and his slightly chapped lips.
“I-” he stops himself suddenly, and your eyebrows furrow. The tension between you both was something you've never felt before. You didn't understand why Percy looked dazed, staring at you as if he found you to be the most captivating person in the world.
You open your mouth, but before you could speak, you see something moving at the end of the bush row. Breaking your gaze with Percy, you notice Silena's focusing intensely on you and him. It suddenly dawns on you that the strange tension was because she was working that love magic that all the Aphrodite children can do. She smirks when she sees that you’ve noticed her, and you swore you saw her mouth a “you’re welcome.” The tension suddenly falls as she hides behind the bushes right as Percy turns around to find out what you were looking at.
You giggle nervously, “um, yeah. Anyways... Ambrose can put up a fight,” you say, trying to revert to the original topic because you really didn’t want to discuss what just happened. You give him a second to get himself together, Percy looking a little disoriented after being under Silena's look magic. He blinks a few times before turning abruptly toward the strawberry bushes. A nervous chuckle leaves his lips, and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. He shifts on his feet and nods,
“Yeah, I can imagine.” He clears his throat, his voice coming out a little higher than he had intended it to be. You bite your bottom lip, trying to refrain from laughing, and you hum softly in response.
The two of you sat in silence for a bit before your conversation had picked up again. Surprisingly, even after being unknowingly manipulated by Silena’s magic, Percy moved on quickly from the awkward tension. You found it was easy to talk to him, the two of you chatting as if you didn't just meet yesterday. The two of you talked and laughed a lot, sharing funny stories from quests or about your mortal parents.
You’ve never been a closed-off person, and you were able to share things easily with people, so the conversation flew naturally. You guys talked about the weird perks of your powers. One of the weird perks you shared is your ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and you end up freaking him out with the many stories of your paranormal experiences.
You weren't sure how long you were talking to him, but time felt like it flew by, and eventually, your baskets were filled with strawberries as you finished picking the row. The sun was lower in the sky, and you assume that it was almost time for dinner. You figured you should find your siblings, and Ambrose and Percy had mentioned that he had plans to climb the lava wall with a few of his friends. So you guys placed your baskets in the drop-off section where they package the strawberries, exchanging a short “see you later” before parting ways.
☆’.・.・:★:・.・.’☆
The last thing Annabeth was expecting to see today was an out-of-breath Atticus bursting into her cabin, but there he was. She jumps in her seat at the sudden bang, the sound cutting through the silence. Her gaze snaps from her book to the door, concerned for a second as Atticus looks panicked. He lets himself in, scoping out the room in search of something.
"What are you-?"
"Have you seen Harvey?" Atticus asks, frantically looking for his familiar. Harvey is a black-footed ferret that was given to him by his mother. When you guys found out that Ambrose was for you, Atticus was pretty bummed. He was jealous that your mother had given you such a cool gift, and you had assumed that she had seen how upset he was because a few days after Hecate officially claimed you, Atticus received Harvey as a present. The morning he met Harvey for the first time, Atticus was thrilled to wake up with the ferret casually sitting on his chest.
"I'm sorry, Harvey? I don't know a Harvey?" Annabeth turns in her chair to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"My ferret, have you seen him?" Atticus drops to his knees, looking under the beds and the nightstands. He just saw him jump into the back window of the Athena Cabin, so he was sure that Harvey was hiding somewhere.
"Um, no?" Annabeth rolls her eyes, finding it rude that he has barged in as if he lived there. Suddenly, a small animal jumps from the top of the bookcase beside her and right on her desk. Annabeth yelps, getting up from her seat quick as Harvey snorts, and he clumsily runs across her papers before prancing across all the desks that were lined against the wall.
"Harvey, what are you doing?!" Atticus exclaims as he moves to stand up. He attempts to meet Harvey at the last desk, but Harvey jumps out of his reach just as he closes his fist to grab him. Harvey zooms across the room, forcing him to play a one-sided game of tag that Atticus was definitely losing. He occasionally slips and stumbles, the snorts that leave his snout starting to sound like mocking laughter.
"What's wrong with your rat?" Annabeth jokes as her eyes follow Harvey around the room.
"He's a ferret," Atticus corrects her, mumbling under his breath. He sighs as he tries to catch up with the animal, failing miserably as not only was he crazy fast, he was able to find the smallest corners to hide in.
"Similar family," she shrugs, smirking at him. "And you didn't answer my question."
Atticus sighs, getting on the floor to try and grab Harvey, who’s tucked in the corner under one of the beds. He squints at the small animal, not sure why he’s acting this way when Harvey was curled up on his desk, peacefully taking a nap about 20 minutes ago.
"He does this sometimes. I don't know. He wants to play, and then he causes chaos," Atticus grunts, almost grabbing Harvey, but he runs out of his reach once again. Atticus groans as he sits back on his heels, pinching the bridge of his nose. He decides he might as well take a breather since he's been chasing him for the past 10 minutes, and he considers that he should stop entertaining him since Harvey obviously saw this as some game.
He sighs softly, choosing to forget about Harvey as he looks over at Annabeth. Her gray eyes are fixed on him as she leans against the edge of her desk. Her curly blonde locks are pulled back in a messy low ponytail allowing the front strands to frame her face prettily. Atticus smiles as he admires her, taking in her appearance before she starts telling him off.
"You look pretty like that," Atticus compliments, his heart skipping a beat as their eyes meet. He watches as her expression softens for a second, her eyes wide at the random compliment. Atticus smirks softly, not surprised, as her face suddenly darkens into a scowl. If Annabeth felt anything for him, she was good at hiding it.
When Atticus had first arrived at camp last summer, Annabeth and he spoke here and there. Their conversations were brief but pleasant, and Atticus found himself wanting to talk to her more often. As his crush for her grew, he had taken it upon himself to harmlessly flirt with her, hoping she’d get the hint that he was interested.
"Like what?" She asks, her chin up as she moves to stand up straight on her feet.
"With your hair in a ponytail like that. It's cute.”
"Hmm. Thanks for letting me know, so I'll never do it like this again,” she says in such a serious tone that made Atticus laugh. There it is. Annabeth was always quick to shut him down, and she never failed to make witty comebacks. He was pretty certain that it was just banter, but it made it hard to tell if she was maybe into him. But he never failed to notice how occasionally, she’d momentarily be lost for words or have a flustered look on her face before it hardened as it did a moment ago.
"You'd be pretty regardless, Chase.” He feels his knees start to ache, and he sighs as he gets back up on his feet.
"Don't call me that," Annabeth says abruptly.
"What? Chase? What do you prefer? Annie? Beth? Anna?" He teases.
"I prefer Annabeth, thank you." She gives him a tight, sarcastic smile, and a short laugh comes from Atticus’s mouth.
"That's not fun, though…" His hand comes under his chin as he studies her. He ponders for a second, trying to come up with a name that he can personally call her. Annabeth shifts, avoiding his gaze as she looks elsewhere. She was weirded out that the other was looking at her for so long, and she tried not to show how flustered she actually was. She grunts,
"What?! What are you look-"
"Goldilocks," Atticus blurts out, his finger pointing into the air as his face brightens, thinking he’s an absolute genius for coming up with that name. Annabeth shakes her head,
"Don't call me th-"
"It's been decided. I will call you goldilocks. No one else can call you that," Atticus cuts her off, the same proud smile plastered on his face even though Annabeth’s eyes narrow dangerously at him. Atticus takes a step back hesitantly. At first glance, she didn’t come off as intimidating, but Atticus knew better. He was always sure not to push her too far because he was completely aware of her ability to kill him.
Atticus suddenly remembers Harvey, noticing how the sound of his little feet pattering along the wooden floor ceased a while ago. He scans the room finding Harvey standing on his hind legs a couple of feet away, calmly watching them. Atticus still couldn’t understand why he had acted so strangely. Familiars couldn’t talk, obviously because they’re animals but their actions are never out of vain. They’re usually trying to tell you something if they’re acting strange, and it takes a while to put the pieces together since there is only so much they can do. After thinking for a second, it dawns on Atticus that Harvey purposely made him come to the Athena Cabin so that he can talk to Annabeth. He smiles to himself, walking toward Harvey. He didn’t run away this time, allowing Atticus to put him on his shoulder.
"He just stopped,” Annabeth points out, her head tilting to the side.
"Probably got tired?" Atticus makes an excuse for him, not wanting to admit that Harvey had decided to be his wingman today. "Sorry for barging in, by the way," he apologizes. “I saw him jump in from the window, and I was worried he’d break something.”
"Whatever. Don’t do it again.”
"Got it. Well, I'll see you around, Goldilocks. Happy studying.” Atticus turns on his heels, hearing a scoff coming from Annabeth as he walks out of the cabin.
"When did I ask you to be my wingman?" Atticus asks Harvey as he walks off the steps of the Athena Cabin. He reaches up, his index finger petting the top of his head. "You're crazy, bud... But she is cute, isn't she?" Atticus laughs, Harvey snorting as if he agrees with him.
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rowansparrow · 3 years
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Juke Box Hero: A Rose Story
This is SO STUPID LMAO But I hope you guys like it anyway. I’m back on my bullshit and I am here to provide you with a little story based off THIS POST. Anon, thank you for your service, because this was very, very fun. 
This snippet takes place during Chapter Seven of BAON, during the flashback when Reader is meeting Rex for the first time and Rose and Co. are stuck cleaning up the barracks. You don’t necessarily have to have read it for this to make sense, but the right context might be neat. 
Also, for timeline purposes/in BAON, Tup and Dogma technically never met Rose, as they weren’t part of the 501st before he died, but I’m including them in this because I make the rules and I wanted to. 
Also Denal’s here because I think he’s a funky dude and deserves more content.
The clones deserve to dance and have fun and who’s gonna write them doing that if it ain’t me? 
Rating: Mature-ish? There are some dirty jokes and swearing but mostly it’s Just fun shenanigans with Rose and Bros. 
(Also I spent a TON of time picking everyone’s songs so pls tell me what you think of my selections lmao).
I’m tagging everyone from the BAON tag list in case you’re interested. Enjoy!
In retrospect, perhaps Rose should have put a stop to the loth cat situation – or as Hardcase called it, Operation: P.U.S.S.Y. He claimed it was an abbreviation for “Petting Unusually Sweet Strays, Yeah!”
“You have to call it something else.” Rose had said at the time, staring at the loth cat cradled protectively in Hardcase’s arms.
“But you’re not saying no?” Hardcase prompted eagerly, already bouncing lightly on his heels.
“Just…” Rose pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… clean up after it? And if it breaks anything, it’s on you, and for the love of Force, don’t get caught.”
Now, as the Lieutenant surveyed the disarray that had befallen the barracks, and the company of very disgruntled subordinates, he was reconsidering his earlier leniency.
“I feel as the acting SIC, you’re the one who should be taking the flak for this, not the entire company.” Jesse grumbled, glaring at Lieutenant Rose over his shoulder as he scrubbed at the floor of the barracks.
“Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who brought a pregnant loth-cat into the barracks in the first place.” Rose replied, straightening up for a moment where he’d been hunched over, his back cracking as he moved.
“Well, you didn’t fight me very hard on it!” Hardcase protested. “And I didn’t know Beans was pregnant at the time! I didn’t even know she was a girl!”
His explanation only earned him several slugs to the arm from nearby vode.
“And just because I’m second-in-command does not make me exempt from the Captain’s wrath.” Rose added. “You didn’t get the dressing-down, you just have to carry out the punishment with me.”
“Hang on, I thought we agreed the cat’s name was going to be Road Rash?” Coric asked.
“That’s unladylike.” Said Denal. “And rude. She can’t help her scars.”
“And Beans is ladylike?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.
“She likes it! And her kits looked like beans when they came out too!”
Rose shook his head fondly at his men as they bickered. At least they weren’t complaining anymore.
In truth, he was surprised the situation had been managed as long as it had been. They’d lasted almost a full three weeks without anyone figuring out they were hiding a cat in the barracks. Of course, the kittens made it much harder, and they could only hide them in overturned helmets during inspections for so many days before the helmets started to mewl.
And once Beans threw a tantrum over not having her kits with her, it was game over. She’d knocked over an entire can of armor paint in her wrath, and blue pawprints and large paint puddles coated the durasteel of the barracks, and a few of the bunks had claw and bite marks in the fabric.
“It’ll take us an hour, maybe more, to clean this whole mess up.” Fives complained, looking around the barracks forlornly. He had a nasty scratch just under his eye from finally snatching Beans up in her rampage. “Kriff. I was excited to go out tonight.”
“Not to mention after we finish here the Captain said we had to go take over latrine and canteen detail from other battalions.”
“Then I guess you better get scrubbing.” Kix said absently, thumbing through medical requisition forms on his datapad and sitting cross-legged on one of the few bunks that didn’t have blue paw prints streaked across it.
“Why aren’t you helping? You’re part of the company too.” Echo said. “Fives and I are ARC troopers, if anyone here should be exempt from company-wide punishments, it’s us.”
“I’m not helping because I didn’t participate.” Kix replied, not looking up from his ‘pad.
“The kark you didn’t, you delivered the kits!” Fives snapped.
“Well, Captain Rex didn’t catch me, so.”
“That’s because you went and hid in the medbay and didn’t warn the rest of us he was coming.” Tup muttered under his breath.
“Not true. I sent Jesse a comm.” Kix said, finally looking up only to shrug and return to his work. “Which he didn’t check, and that’s not my fault.”
“It doesn’t matter who was involved and who wasn’t involved.” Dogma piped up. “Clearly, because if it did, I wouldn’t be here either.”
“We know.” Said Jesse and Fives in unison.
Rose sighed, his eyes drifting forlornly to his bunk. He spotted his footlocker sticking halfway out from underneath the durasteel, and he lit up. He opened it quickly, pulling out a beat-up radio he’d gotten at a market stall during one of his first deployments. He’d had to trade a droid popper and half his rations for it – Rex had not been pleased about it when he found out – but it was worth the two-day latrine rotation he’d gotten as punishment.
He’d already downloaded several songs off the HoloNet, along with a few channel recordings of past BoloBall games. Even if he knew who won them, it was still something to listen to on long stints on cruisers.
“What’cha doing, Lieutenant?” Tup asked, peeking around the corner as Rose straightened back up, fumbling with the little radio for a moment and propping it up on one of the bunks so the music could fill the whole room.
“No. NO! No.” Jesse jabbed a finger at the Lieutenant as he saw him set up the radio. “No. Absolutely not. I have had enough of your osik-brained, Force-forsaken, whack-ass music to last me a lifetime.”
Kix chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other trooper. “You listen exclusively to electronic dance music. Even when we aren’t at 79s. You have no room to talk.”
“This is better than that.” Rose promised, dialing up the volume. “This is the kind of stuff you’d find on the jukebox at Dex’s Diner.” He grinned. Dex was personal friends with General Kenobi, and was one of the few Coruscant establishments that was friendly to clones, as long as they behaved themselves. Rose had gone there with his brothers a handful of times, and even Anakin had dragged his Padawan Ahsoka, Rose, and Rex along once.
“You have a radio?” Dogma frowned. “Isn’t that contraband, sir?”
“Relax, it’s an old prewar-era radio, it’s not hurting anything.” Fives drawled, knocking Dogma lightly on the shoulder. “What’re you gonna play, sir?”
“Let’s see…” Rose filtered through his downloads, and grinned wider, pressing play.
Immediately, soft music rang through the barracks, and Jesse smacked his head against the bunk, groaning loudly.
“I’m begging you, Lieutenant.” Jesse said. “I’m begging.”
Rose was already swaying his hips, bending over to grab Jesse by the chin.
“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.” Rose serenaded him.
Jesse swatted Rose’s hand away, and Rose turned, swinging around on the side of the bunk and pointing to Fives this time. “Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night.”
Fives grinned, joining in even as he stumbled slightly over the words.
“There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell and I was thinking to myself, this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.”
Kix was drumming his fingers on his datapad, nodding along and singing under his breath.
“Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say…”
“This is too slow.” Echo griped, rising to his feet and stepping over Dogma, who was still stubbornly scrubbing away at the barrack floors and refusing to engage even as the rest of the clones began quietly singing along with the chorus.
The ARC Trooper fiddled with the dial for a moment, scrolling through Rose’s music and selecting another song, already grinning as the chanting started through the speakers and eventually rippled through the ranks of the 501st.
“STOP.” Jesse barked, trying to kick Fives as the other ARC trooper hopped to his feet, stomping his feet and chanting along. “STOP, I HATE THIS ONE!”
Rose and Hardcase were chanting too, and Coric had started clapping his hands on an overturned bucket, a few shinies clapping their hands together as Echo shook his ass, kama swaying as he climbed up onto a nearby table. He scooped up a mop, pulling the handle to his mouth.
“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me.” He pointed to Kix, grinding against the handle. “Girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me.”
Kix gave him the finger, and Echo pointed to Fives, who was still chanting with the others but was now holding up his helmet, recording the whole thing. Echo amped up his performance.
“When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s alright. I’m hooked on a feeling!”
Tup whooped from where he’d moved to sit on one of the bunks. Dogma shot him a nasty look, which he ignored in favor of watching Echo strut on the table.
“I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me. Lips as sweet as candy, its taste is on my mind. Girl you got me thirsty for another cup of wine.”
“Wait, wait, wait, I have a good one.” Fives shoved his helmet at Hardcase, letting him take over recording as he scrambled to the radio, quickly turning the dial once again and elbowing Echo off the table as fast, loud, angry guitars shredded through the barracks.
Jesse seemed to perk up just slightly, and any of the 501st troopers who were still trying to actually clean – save for Dogma – had abandoned their supplies and had elected to dance instead, crowding the table and forming a makeshift mosh pit.
Fives was nothing if not a showman, and when he snatched the mop from Echo, he performed.
“When I get high, I get high on speed. Top fuel funny car’s a drug for me, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”
He stomped his foot hard on the table, flipping his head back and running one hand messily through his hair.
“Always got the cops coming after me, custom-built bike doing 103, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”
Rose laughed, watching as Fives looked at the helmet Hardcase was hoisting up over the crowd, singing into the camera and rolling his shoulders back.
“Ooh, are ya ready, girls? Ooh, are you ready now? Woah, yeah! Kickstart my heart, baby give it a start. Woah, yeah! Baby! Kickstart my heart, hope it never stops. Woah, yeah, baby yeah!”
The clones joined him for the chorus, and then Fives dropped to his knees like he’d seen rockers do on the HoloNet, high fiving the nearest vode. Dogma was still stubbornly trying to clean up the barracks, but had moved on to one of the far corners, only giving the rest of his battalion the occasional side-eye.
“Skydive naked from an aeroplane, or a lady with a body from outer space, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart.” He wiggled his hips as he straightened back up, biting his lip through a grin and dropping his hand to his hips and shaking his fist obscenely, as though he was jerking himself off.
“Say I got trouble, trouble in my eyes, I’m just looking for another good time, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart!”
Before Fives could do something else profane – or possibly attempt to crowd-surf and give Rose a handful of incident reports to fill out, the music suddenly shifted, and all heads turned to the radio.
Kix was smirking. He’d divested himself of the top half of his armor, instead electing to shimmy his way up onto the table in just the upper half of his blacks and lower armor plates. Fives exited, rejoining the crowd as Kix leveled a sultry look at the camera for just a moment before turning his back on the crowd.
“Clean shirt, new shoes, and I don’t know where I am goin’ to. Silk suit, black tie, I don’t need a reason why.”
He spun quickly, switching his grip on the mop handle as though he was holding a woman in his arms, dipping it low towards the crowd as he sang.
“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”
Fives and Echo were howling with laughter, and Hardcase wolf-whistled loud enough that Rose’s ears rang. Even Jesse had finally joined in, nodding his head along to the music and trying to bite back a grin. Tup had left the crowd to instead attempt to pull Dogma in, and Denal had rounded up a few newer members and was trying to push them closer to the front.
Kix unzipped the top half of his blacks, doing a slow strip-tease in time with the music.
“Gold watch, diamond ring, I ain’t missin’, not a single thing. And cufflinks, stickpin, when I step out I’mma do you in.” Kix shrugged out of his blacks and rolled his hips along the mop handle, dropping his ass low and slowly dragging himself back up, grinding against the handle.
“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”
Fives actually pretended to faint, falling backwards into Echo, who was laughing so hard that he fell over with him.
“ALRIGHT!” Dogma shouted over the music, elbowing his way through the crowd with Tup following anxiously behind him. Dogma firmly stopped the music, hands on his hips as he turned to face the rest of his brothers, who’d begun to boo.
“We have orders,” Dogma reminded them. “This is a punishment, not a party. When we finish here, we’re supposed to clean the shower block, and then we’re supposed to report to the mess hall and take over the canteen cleanup shifts.”
“We know the orders, Dogma.” Rose said, putting a hand on the younger trooper’s shoulder. “There’s no harm in having fun while you work.”
“I’m the only one still working.” Dogma grumbled.
“Alright, alright, we’ll turn it low for now, and we’ll finish up in here, then we can bring the radio with us when we move to the refreshers and canteen. Fair?” He asked, turning to the rest of the men. There were a few muttered responses, and Rose raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out.” He said. “We are cleaning this mess up, correct gentlemen?”
“Sir yes sir!” They all answered quickly, hurrying back to work.
Rose chuckled, shifting the music to something a little calmer, the gentle piano wafting through the barracks as they continued to clean up.
Denal’s head perked up as soon as he heard the piano start, and while he didn’t climb up onto the table like his brothers had, he smiled to himself, turning back towards the spot he was scrubbing and singing to the durasteel floor.
“I'm sailing away. Set an open course for the Virgin Sea.”
Echo hummed, closing his eyes and rocking back on his heels for a moment, listening to his older vod croon.
“'Cause I've got to be free. Free to face the life that's ahead of me.” Denal continued, his voice soft but steady. “On board I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore and I'll try, oh Lord I'll try… to carry on.”
Somebody whistled, a few scattered claps ringing through the barracks. Coric picked up where Denal left off.
“I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory. Some happy some sad.” He sang. “I think of childhood friends, and the dreams we had.”
Tup glanced to Dogma, who was practically seething as he scrubbed at the same spot on the floor that he’d been working on for the past several minutes. “You like this song, don’t you, Dogma?”
“No I don’t. Shut up.”
“Join in. They won’t mind.” Tup encouraged.
“No.”
“We live happily forever, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.” Sang Coric. “But we'll try best that we can to carry on!”
The music picked up, and Jesse shot Rose a look.
“This is a deceptively fast song.” He said.
“It sneaks up on ya.” Rose chuckled.
The barracks devolved into chaos once again, the clones all screaming along to the lyrics, even the ones who didn’t know the words picked it up quickly, encouraged by their brothers.
Despite the distractions, they finally finished cleaning the barracks, and Rose plucked the radio from where he’d stashed it, leading the way down the hallway towards the refreshers. The 501st were especially rowdy in the quiet halls – most of the barracks were empty, the clones who weren’t being punished for loth-cat related shenanigans were taking advantage of the shore leave.
When they opened the door to the shower block, they encountered a few members of the 212th already in there, cleaning up.
“Pack it in, lads.” Rose announced. “We’re taking over for you.”
“What? Why?” Boil asked, leaning on a mop and raising an eyebrow. “Did you get in trouble?”
“Yes.” Hardcase replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“All of you?” Waxer poked his head out from inside one of the refresher stalls, Crys and Wooley pausing from where they were wiping down countertops.
“Yeah, it’s Hardcase’s fault. As usual.” Jesse said, strolling over to Boil and plucking the mop from his hands. “We’re supposed to take over your shifts.”
“Good, I was hoping to get to 79’s tonight before last call. I hear they’ve got purple spotchka.” Boil said excitedly, glancing at Waxer over his shoulder.
“We can help you finish.” Waxer said, immediately raining on his brother’s parade. “There isn’t much left to do anyway.”
“You sure?” Rose asked. “It’s technically a punishment -.”
“Nah, it’s fine, there really isn’t much left, aside from the toilets.” He grinned. “But you boys can handle those.”
“Fair enough.” Rose chuckled, nodding over his shoulder to his men. Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase were in a heated four-way battle of rock, flimsi, cutters in order to determine who had to clean the toilets first.
“What’s that?” One trooper Rose didn’t recognize asked, pointing to his hand.
“It’s a radio!” Rose said cheerfully. “I’m err… technically not supposed to have it. But we’ve been listening to music while we worked.” He set it up on the countertop. “Do you have a favorite song…?”
“Spitter.” The 212th trooper supplied helpfully.
“Spitter.” Rose repeated, chuckling to himself and wondering how the hell he’d earned that name. “Do you have a favorite song?”
“I don’t know the name of it.” The trooper admitted shyly. “But – but it’s the one they play on the hits channel all the time. I hear it playing in the admiral’s quarters on the Negotiator all the time.”
“I know that one!” Waxer said excitedly, nodding to Rose. “It’s the one Commander Cody likes. You were playing it in the hangar a few weeks ago when our flight detail overlapped.”
“I remember.” Rose smiled, and turned the song on.
Immediately, every head, including Dogma’s, perked up at the familiar tune. Fives clapped his hands together, getting them started.
“When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.”
The younger trooper, Spitter, lit up and followed it up.
“When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”
Waxer elbowed Boil, trying to get him to join in, but the other trooper shook his head and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes even as Waxer sang.
“If I get drunk, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.”
Their voices carried through the refresher’s tiled walls, and Jesse picked up where Waxer left off.
“And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you.”
When the chorus rolled around, everyone joined in, their voices bouncing off the walls around them.
“But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door.”
“When I’m working,” Kix began, offering a hand to Wooley and giving him a playful spin. “Yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you.”
“And when the money comes in for the work I do, I’ll pass almost every penny on to you.” Wooley laughed, shoving Kix away with a grin.
“When I come home,” Tup piped up quickly, before someone else could. “Oh, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you.”
“And if I grow old,” Crys smirked, shaking his shoulders at Fives, who punched him playfully in the arms and joined in, singing the line in unison. “Well, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you.”
The chorus returned, and they sang with even more feeling than before, dancing and tossing their heads back, shouting along to the words and nearly drowning out the music itself as they sang.
As the final verse approached, Waxer sidled up next to Boil, giving him a hopeful look. His brother sighed, scrubbing a hand bitterly over his face and reluctantly joined in.
“When I’m lonely, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you.” He sang.
“And when I’m dreaming,” Echo called. “Well I know I’m gonna dream, I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you.”
“And when I go out, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.” Fives followed.
“And when I come home, yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you.” Denal said.
Tup took a deep breath, preparing to finish off the verse, but he was cut off.
“I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home,” Dogma’s voice was shaky as all eyes turned to him, and he finished in a squeak. “With you.”
The room erupted in cheers, Fives catching Dogma under his arm and giving him a noogie as the chorus rang out once again, everyone shouting along to the lyrics together.
When the song ended, and the cleanup was done, the 212th parted ways with the 501st, the brothers patting one another on the back and jeering affectionately at one another now that the song and dance was done.
“If you finish with everything before final call, catch up with us at 79’s.” Boil called over his shoulder. “We can give the vode there a run for their money with our rendition of that song.”
“Count on it.” Rose chuckled, giving the other company a little salute before leading his men on towards the canteen.
The canteen, blessedly, was empty, and most of it was already clean. All they really had to do was wipe everything down, mop, and then make sure the kitchen was well-prepped for the next day.
“I didn’t know you had it in ya, Dogma.” Echo said affectionately, knocking his younger vod playfully in the shoulder as they walked.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Dogma muttered, his ears burning as he pushed into the canteen, grabbing the cleaning supplies from the nearby supply closet.
“Who’s turn was it for a solo?” Fives asked, watching as Rose started to set up the radio above one of the food windows so it could project into the entire cafeteria.
“I think Dogma should go.” Kix grinned. “Now that we know he’s got some pipes.”
“Absolutely not.” Dogma said immediately, not looking up from where he was wiping down tables.
“I can go first?” Tup offered, raising his hand sheepishly. Dogma shot him another stern look, but Tup was already wandering over to the radio, moving the dial and tentatively pressing play.
Upbeat music filled the canteen, and the other troopers cheered as Fives ushered Tup over to the nearest table, boosting him up on top of it and then thrusting a mop into his hands. Hardcase was already fumbling with the helmet again, trying to get a recording as Tup tapped his foot along with the beat, nodding his head as he found his rhythm.
“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say. I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way.”
Fives was leading other troopers in pounding the surrounding tables in time with the drumbeats while Echo was leading another group to clap in time.
“I ain’t nothing but tired! Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself.” Tup flashed the camera a grin, reaching up and pulling his hair tie out, shaking his wild curls loose around his head. “Hey there baby, I could use just a little help.”
Jesse whistled, and Dogma had stopped cleaning and was watching his brother, the slightest smile pulling at his lips.
“You can’t start a fire, can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”
Tup shook his hair out of his eyes, tossing his head back and jerking his hips.
“Messages keep getting clearer, radio’s on and I’m moving ‘round my place. I check my look in the mirror, wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!”
He swayed his hips again, and Hardcase shoved the camera at Kix instead so he could join in the clapping.
“Man, I ain’t getting nowhere, I’m just living in a dump like this. There’s something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is.”
He hopped off the table, instead taking Dogma’s hand and dragging him towards the makeshift stage.
“You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”
He pushed the mop into Dogma’s hands instead, beaming at him as he scurried off the table, sprinting over to the radio and quickly changing the song.
Immediately, slow guitar started but quickly escalated into heavy drums and fast riffs. Dogma’s cheeks turned a darker shade, and he looked frantically to Tup, trying to climb back down off the stage.
“No, no, come on!” Fives shouted, trying to body block Dogma from getting down. “Come on, you got this!”
The lyrics began, and Dogma sang along, his mouth barely moving, voice almost imperceptible.
“Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken… and the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?”
“Come on!” Tup called to him. “You LOVE this song! Let ‘em hear it!”
Dogma grit his teeth, his voice gaining strength. “But you see, it’s not me, it’s not my family, in your head, in your head they are fighting.”
He stomped his foot on the table, practically snarling out the words. “With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns, in your head, in your head they are crying.”
He threw his head back, and for not the first time that night, the radio was drowned out by cheers.
“In your head! In your head! Zombie, Zombie, Zombie. What’s in your head? In your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie!”
Dogma climbed off the table quickly, his ears and cheeks burning but a small smile was on his face, even as he was smothered by Hardcase, Fives, Tup, and Echo swarming him with hugs and rubbing his head affectionately.
Jesse climbed up onto the table next, picking up the discarded mop and clearing his throat.
“I would just like to dedicate this song to the gorgeous woman I picked up at 79s last week.” He drawled, nodding once to Kix, who was hovering knowingly by the radio. He nodded once to the helmet, which was now stationed on a nearby table, still recording. “Darling, you had the best pair of tits I have ever seen in my entire life, and you had the mouth of an angel and the coochie of a devil.”
Fives whistled, and Coric snickered. Rose rolled his eyes.
“So, babygirl, this one is for you.”
Kix turned on the radio, and Jesse grinned.
“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”
Guitar rang out through the mess hall, and Jesse bit his lip, rolling his hips as he leaned slightly off the edge of the table.
“An angel’s smile is what you sell, you promised me heaven then put me through hell. Chains of love got a hold on me, when passion’s a prison, you can’t break free.”
He dropped into a crouch, singing directly into the camera.
“Whoa, you’re a loaded gun, whoa, there’s nowhere to run, no one can save me, the damage is done!”
He jumped to his feet, the table shaking under him as he landed.
“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. You give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name!” He turned his back on the crowd, dropping low again and slowly rising, shaking his ass. “Yeah you give love…”
He looked over his shoulder, tossing the camera a wink. “…a bad name.”
The music changed abruptly, and for a moment Jesse looked pissed. “What the hell, ‘Case?”
But his expression shifted as Hardcase rushed to the table, pushing his brother out of the way and taking the mop from him. The crowd cheered all over again as Jesse climbed down, brothers slapping him on the shoulders as Hardcase’s song started up.
“We finish strong, right vode?” He asked cheekily.
“We still have to finish cleaning!” Dogma called back.
Hardcase only smirked in response, and sang quickly to keep up with the lightning fast lyrics.
“Backstroking lover always hiding ‘neath the cover, can I talk to you, my daddy say. He said, you ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’re down on a muff and then you’re sure to be a-changin’ your ways.”
He cupped his codpiece, bucking his hips forward into his own hand.
“I met a cheerleader, was a real young bleeder, all the times I can reminisce. ‘Cos the best things of lovin’ with her sister and her cousin only started with a little kiss, like this!”
He swung his arms wide, shaking his ass in time with the music and stuck his tongue out, having the time of his life.
“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”
He walked backwards along the table, rolling his shoulders back as he moved.
“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”
The rest of the 501st joined in with him, repeating the chorus of “Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way!” over and over again, Hardcase taking over again as the next verse began.
“School girl sweetie was the sassy kinda classy, little skirt’s climbing way up her knees. There was three young ladies in the school gym locker when I noticed they was lookin’ at me.”
He ran his hands along his thigh, mimicking raising a skirt.
“I was a high school loser, never made it with a lady ‘til the boys told me something I missed. Then my next-door neighbor with a daughter had a favor so I gave her just a little kiss, like this!”
“Do you think he has any idea what he’s singing about?” Kix asked Rose, leaning back against the counter and chuckling.
He watched as Hardcase went back to grabbing his own crotch, dry-humping the air and hummed.
“I’d say most likely.”
“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”
Hardcase grinned, and to both Kix and Rose’s utter chagrin, Hardcase actually did dive off the makeshift stage and attempt to crowd surf.
“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”
“I’m not patching you up!” Kix shouted over the roar of the music. Rose chuckled, turning the volume nod down as the rest of the 501st shouted in protest.
“Alright, that’s enough for now.” The Lieutenant said, taking control once more. “We can listen to it quietly in the background, but we really do need to wrap up cleaning.”
“Why? Got a date tonight?” Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow. Rose punched him lightly in the arm, and they got back to work once again.
They worked in relative silence, the occasional voice humming or singing along to the music, but they remained productive right up until one of the final songs Rose had downloaded cut through the speaker. The piano wasn’t as rich-sounding as it was through a regular speaker, but even through the tinny cadence of the beat-up radio, every single trooper in the canteen bolted upright, eyebrows raised. Rose smiled knowingly, and turned up the volume once again.
Fives beamed, sitting down on top of one of the tables and laying back, one leg bent and the other stretched flat, a hand behind his head as he sang up at the ceiling.
“Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.”
Jesse leaned back against the wall on the other side of the canteen, closing his eyes as he joined in.
“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.”
Echo kept mopping, but was grinning as he picked up the next line. “A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume.”
Kix grinned. “For a smile, they can share the night, it goes on, and on, and on, and on.”
The rest of the 501st joined in together, their voices carrying in perfect harmony.
“Strangers, waiting. Up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”
“Night!” Hardcase shouted, straining every muscle in his chest and neck as he struggled to reach the high note.
Tup picked up the next verse, climbing onto one of the tables and dragging Dogma up with him once again.
“Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants the thrill. Paying anything to roll the dice just one more time.”
Dogma smiled, nodding his head along to the music. “Some will win, some will lose.”
Tup threw his arm around his brother, and the two of them sang together. “Some were born to sing the blues!”
Rose’s voice carried from over by the radio. “Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on, and on and on!”
“Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”
“NIGHT!” This time, it was Dogma, of all people, who rang out with the high note, and the explosion of shouts and cheers was deafening. They were screaming along to the lyrics, dancing and jumping and shouting and swaying in time with the song.
“Don’t stop believin’! Hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people! Don’t stop believin’, hold on-”
“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”
The booming voice was so powerful, it could be heard even over the shouts of all the clones. Echo was closest to the radio, and quickly shut it off as the song and dance stopped immediately, every clone scrambling to stand at attention.
The Jedi that filled the doorway was massive, an imposing shadow in the entrance to the canteen. He zeroed in on Tup and Dogma, who had been standing closest to the entrance, and stormed towards them.
“Who is your commanding officer?!”
“Me, sir.”
The Besalisk Jedi turned, spinning on Rose immediately. He stalked over to the Lieutenant, jabbing a meaty finger into his chest, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.
“What is the meaning of this?” He snarled.
“Sir, we were assigned cleaning detail.” He explained. “We were just finishing up.”
The Jedi bared his teeth. “Doesn’t look like much cleaning was taking place to me.”
He surveyed the rest of the troopers, but turned his head back to Rose.
“What is your designation?”
“CT-7673.” Rose recited immediately, keeping his back ramrod straight at attention, even though the Jedi was deep in his personal space. He knew this man. General Krell had quite the reputation through the GAR, and Rose had no clue what he was doing outside of the Jedi Temple this late at night.
“Who is your commanding officer?”
“Captain Rex, sir.”
“Not a clone! Is there a malfunction in your design?!” The Jedi bellowed. A few feet behind him, Hardcase flinched at the sudden loud sound, but Rose held still. “Your general, CT-7673! Who is your Commanding Officer!?”
“General Skywalker, sir.” Rose said instead. The canteen was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
He turned his head, noticing the little radio on the table and picked it up, the device small in his massive hands, raising an eyebrow at Rose. “Contraband, disturbance of the peace, behavior unbecoming of an officer, insubordination.” He hissed. “That’s plenty of grounds for a court martial, Lieutenant.”
“Sir.” Fives spoke up, taking a step towards them. “Proper chain of command designates General Skywalker as the one to hand down a court martial order, sir.”
He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with contempt. “With all due respect, sir, you do not command this battalion, and cannot order a court martial on the Lieutenant.”
“Fives.” Rose snapped, whipping his head around to face Fives. “Stand down. Now.”
The ARC Trooper shrank back, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and the General turned back to Rose.
“Be that as it may,” he began icily. “You can rest assured this breach of conduct will not go unreported.”
“Yes sir.” Rose replied stiffly.
General Krell pulled back at last, surveying the battalion. “I want this canteen spotless, and not a word out of you in the meantime!” He ordered. “And I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore.”
With one quick motion, he smashed the radio in his hands. Rose heard a soft, hurt sound somewhere behind him, but ignored it. He didn’t look away from the General.
“Dismissed.” Krell growled, turning and stalking towards the doors. “And as for you,” He turned, jabbing one large finger at Fives. “I’ll be mentioning you in my report as well. Pray our paths do not cross again, clone.”
And with those words, he left the canteen.
Rose relaxed, but only minimally so. The silence hung heavy over the 501st, and everyone quietly shuffled back to work.
Rose gripped the mop handle tightly as he worked, his knuckles turning white. His chest burned, a tight, constricting feeling wrapped around his insides. It was a feeling he’d never felt before – anger, sadness, humiliation, resignation – all rolled into one hateful ball, coiled in his gut.
“Finished with the kitchen, sir.” Came Tup’s small voice. He’d put his hair back up, the tight bun back to regulation standards. Dogma was standing stiff beside him, still not entirely relaxed yet. “And the um – the canteen area’s just about wrapped up as well.”
“Very good.” Rose said with a small nod. “I’ll report back to Captain Rex, let him know we’ve finished for the night.”
“Sorry about your radio, sir.” Hardcase murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s alright, ‘Case.” Rose smiled, but his eyes were sad. “It was – it was old, anyway. Just a silly thing.”
Fives bristled, his jaw setting as he tossed the bucket he’d been holding back into the supply closet with far more force than necessary.
“We aren’t supposed to leave base for the rest of the night, right?” Denal asked, arms folded across his chest as they finished the last of the cleanup. “Guess we could play Sabacc or something back in the barracks?”
There were a few murmured agreements, and the 501st shuffled back towards the barracks. Rose was still thinking about the General, and had a bitter taste in his mouth. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong, really.
Was it such a crime to enjoy oneself? To simply exist?
Fives and Echo fell into step on either side of Rose, the ARC Troopers bracketing their Lieutenant. “I bet Echo and I could rebuild the radio.” Fives offered. “Might take a little bit, but even if we can’t, Kix is real good at bartering stuff down in the markets. Remember when he got us those HoloDisc movies for just a tube of bacta?”
“We could find another radio for you?” Echo suggested hopefully. “Or maybe,” he lowered his voice slightly. “Maybe Y/N could find you one?”
“Let it go.” Rose said, picking up the pace and pulling away from the ARC Troopers. They reentered the now far tidier barracks, and Rose gravitated back to his footlocker, starting to close it up and push it back under his bed. The metal clacked slightly against the edge of the bunk, and he paused, the tinny sound echoing in his ears.
He knocked the footlocker against the bunk again, listening to the little noise again.
Kark it. He was more than just a mindless flesh-droid. He was a person. A human being. And he liked music.
And he wasn’t about to let anybody take that away from him.
“I never got to do a song.” He announced, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips.
“You can’t be serious, sir.” Dogma said, shaking his head at him. “Haven’t we gotten in enough trouble?”
“I’m sure the General’s slithered back to the Temple by now, where he belongs.” Jesse replied, turning back to the Lieutenant. “We don’t have a radio anymore, sir.”
“We don’t need one.” Rose said, pulling his footlocker back out and propping up one leg on it. He tapped his foot against the metal, the rhythm settling, nodding his head along. He took a deep breath.
“Standing in the rain, with his head hung low. Couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show.”
Fives recognized the song, and started tapping his foot along, drumming his hands on an overturned weapons crate.
“Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene. Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream.” Rose climbed up onto the table. “He heard one guitar!”
Jesse slammed a bucket from earlier down against the supports of a bunk, the loud clang mimicking the strum of a guitar.
“Just blew him away. He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day, bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store. Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure, that one guitar!”
Another clang, this time from Kix repeating Jesse’s motion, and Echo, Denal, Coric and Fives were all drumming on overturned buckets and crates.
“Felt good in his hands! Didn’t take long to understand, just one guitar, slung way down low, was a one way ticket, only one way to go.”
Tup and Hardcase had picked up a brush – typically used for scrubbing their blasters and armor down – and were knocking it against the durasteel wall. Dogma had rounded up the others, a look of sheer determination on his face as they clamored around the bunks and tables, smacking their fists in rhythm with anything they could get their hands on.
“So he started rockin', ain't never gonna stop. Gotta keep on rockin', someday gonna make it to the top!”
Rose stomped his feet, and the rest of the 501st joined him for the chorus.
“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero!”
“He took one guitar,” Rose sang, while the rest of the battalion echoed “juke box hero, stars in his eyes” around him. “Juke box hero, he’ll come alive tonight.”
The singing quieted down, listening for a moment to see if anyone was coming, and Rose grinned, starting again and pitching his voice low.
“In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour, thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door.”
The clones took position, preparing to resume their makeshift instruments as Rose picked up in volume.
“Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain. And that one guitar, made his whole life change! Now he needs to keep on rockin', he just can't stop! Gotta keep on rockin', that boy has got to stay on top!”
Once again, shouts rang out as his brothers joined him for the chorus, their voices louder and more determined than ever, refusing to be silenced.
“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. Yeah, juke box hero, stars in his eyes. With that one guitar, he'll come alive, come alive tonight.”
As they finished the song, Rose panted softly, glancing down at his commlink again. He decided he was going to go off base after all. He wanted to see you, and nobody, not his Captain’s orders, and definitely not some karking General like Krell, was going to stop him.
“Dismissed.” He said curtly, and took off out the door without another word.
~
SONGS USED (because they’re all bangers and you should listen to them): 
The 501st (introduction): Hotel California Echo: Hooked on a Feeling  Fives: Kickstart My Heart Kix: Sharp Dressed Man Jesse: You Give Love a Bad Name Coric and Denal: Come Sail Away Dogma: Zombie Tup: Dancing in the Dark Hardcase: Walk This Way The 212th and 501st: I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) The 501st (Canteen finale): Don’t Stop Believin’ Rose and the 501st: Juke Box Hero
TAG LIST (Aka everyone on the tag list for BAON):  @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex @bubblegumcat229 @generalcannoli @hellothere501stlover @in-the-crosshairs @vaderthepotater @for-the-love-of-clones @babyhowzer @imrealatedtothe501st @chewychewyque @bobafettuccini @baba-fett-writes @chromia7567 @coffeeandtodd @thedomesticatednerd @kirinpl @djarrex @a-c-lee @embarrassedauthornerd @kaorikoizumi @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows @sammi9498 @theroguesully @salaminus
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hintofelation99 · 3 years
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Hi! I love your posts and want to ask your opinion on something. Who do you think in the batfam has the most and the least common sense of a normal person? If you can, can you also list how they are arranged? Thank you!
Ooohhh, this is a fun one! In my mind all bats lack common sense. Like obviously they're hella smart, after all they are a family of detectives, they just aren't very bright.
Here's a quick rundown (least to most): Tim and Dick tie for first place, both lack common sense in just in completely different ways. Then Damian (mostly cause of the whole 'being raised by league of assassins' thing), Bruce, Cass (controversial ik), Steph, Jason, Duke, Babs, and last on the list is obvs Alfred. (Kate is probs between Cass and Steph, but I've only really seen her in the DCAMU and need to get to know her better).
And Ima add a 'keep reading' cause this is gonna get long.
Tim:
Tim is one of the smartest in the family. He deduced Batman's identity as a child, majorly fucked up the League of Assassins, and has been honored (I say this v sarcastically just btw) with Ra's creepy obsession. He's smart, plain and simple. However, when it comes to just day to day survival and being loved, goddamn that boy is dumb.
He regularly mixes energy drinks and coffee. Sometimes he even mixes energy drinks, alcohol, and coffee.
In his mind warnings are optional. "Tim, did you just sniff that drano?" "Yeah, why?" "IT LITERALLY SAYS DO NOT SMELL" "Oops"
He regularly tests shit on himself. "Why is Tim on the floor?" "He mixed joker venom and fear gas to see what would happen" "HE WHAT"
Also if you try to compliment him or tell him you love him he will find a way to misunderstand. "Tim, I love you and you are an amazing son." "I don't know who this Tim is but he sounds great" "It- it's you, literally you. Timothy Jackson Drake." "I'm a bit confused, I didn't know you knew two Timothy Jackson Drakes. You should really introduce us."
Dick:
Dick in many ways is a total himbo. He's a complete sweetheart, super supportive, and very ditzy. His ditzy-ness directly correlates to how relaxed he is. Chilling in the manor? Peak himbo. A mission in space? Absolute genius and amazing leader. Just took down a bunch of thugs? Slowly reverting into dopey boi. He always has the ability to be super analytical, smart, and big brain, but he likes being whimsical and even airheaded. And that's not a bad thing, it's just him taking mental breaks, being lighthearted.
"YOU PUT DIESEL IN YOUR CAR?" "...Yeah, in my defense the nozzles look basically the same" "They're different colors?! Also the diesel nozzle doesn't even fit into your gas tank, how did you get it in?" "I'm a good pourer."
He always responds to the word dick and it always confuses him. "God Ra's is such a dick!" "What?" "Ra's is a dick" "I'm not Ra's!" "Wha- no! I mean penis dick!" "Ohhhh, yeah he is a penis dick"
Once Dick is safe he reverts into himbo pretty quickly, even after stressful situations. "Hey Wally?" "Yes babe?" "I forgot how to change my lock screen again" "Dick, you just hacked into an alien spaceship not even an hour ago??" "What's that have to do with anything?"
Damian:
Damian lacks common sense from growing up with the League of Assassins. He's an amazing warrior and super analytical but casual human interaction alludes him. He is getting better though, so eventually he'll be lower on the list than Steph. But for now he's a senseless bby.
The first time someone tried to give him high five he assumed it was an attack and flipped them. Same with a fist bump.
This is complete canon but his original treatment of Alfred, his brothers, and, well, everyone. Like bby boy please read the room.
His ego can easily override common sense. Like he wouldn't jump off a bridge if everyone else was doing it, but if someone said he couldn't he'd immediately swan dive off that bridge.
Bruce:
For the world's greatest detective he can be a major dumb bitch sometimes. Some of it's growing up rich and some is being so wrapped up in his 'crusade for justice' that he just misses basic shit.
One time he walked in on Roy and Jason making out, the next day he saw them cuddling, then they mentioned moving in together. It took him three months to realize that they're dating.
He doesn't understand coupons, like at all. Jason has tried to explain them but Bruce just gets even more confused.
Bruce tried to make coffee once. He literally just poured coffee beans in water and microwaved it. He was surprised when it didn't taste good.
Cass:
Cass is similar to Damian in she lacks common sense from an unconventional upbringing. However she's learning way faster than Damian and depending on where in the timeline you're looking she might have more common sense than Babs.
Basic things like lines, turn taking, and speaking when spoken to aren't innate to her. Like, she knows and understands them, but often forgets about them.
There are many times that she blurs the line between civilian and vigilante because she'll do something that looks v stupid and dangerous for a civilian. The thing is she never notices when she does this.
One time she was in a restaurant and there was a cockroach on the wall across the room (cause Gotham) and instead of getting up and killing it like a normal person she threw her steak knife and impaled it.
Steph:
Steph is probably lacks common sense the most conventional yet slightly concerning way. She lacks common sense in the same way a cartoon character or sitcom character would. Like it's sorta realistic but at the same time damn bby girl why are you such a disaster??
She will do anything on a dare. Anything. There is a rule against daring Steph to do things while in the manor or on patrol.
Every time she hears someone say Red Robin she yells yum. This has gotten both her and RR shot.
Steph is v lucky that 1) she's a badass and 2) the batfam loves her because she annoys absolutely everyone just for shits and giggles and the only reason she hasn't been murdered is that Cass scares everyone.
Jason:
All common sense is lost when dramas at stake. Say what you will but Jason is the (second) biggest drama queen in the family. Also he, like most bats, lacks a sense of self preservation which leads to shit common sense.
He tried to steal Batman's tires.
Sometimes he listens to music during patrol and tries to hit people/shoot on beat. This has lead to stab wounds.
Jason loves to loudly quote classic literature while on stake outs. This is a problem for obvious reasons.
Duke:
Ok this is around the time you get to average common sense levels. But he still runs around Gotham beating people up in tights (or kevlar) so he doesn't get full points. Also he's still not Babs level common sense. One area Duke lacks common sense in is how to deal with the Batfam (which is v understandable tbh)
One time Duke was joking around with Jason and decided to steal a roll off of Damian's plate. This ended in blood.
Other than lacking Batfam common sense, most of his poor judgement moments are less notable but still concerning.
For example the time he challenged Dick to a hot dog eating contest then went on a roller coaster.
Babs:
Other than being a vigilante Babs almost has normal human common sense. However being a vigilante has negative side effects on ones common sense.
While Babs' sleep schedule isn't as bad as Tim's it's not a whole lot better. She's stayed up 72 consecutive hours multiple times.
She has accidentally poured coffee onto her computer instead of into a coffee mug.
One time she drank an entire gallon of milk before realizing it was a month expired.
Alfred:
Most assume that working for Bruce Wayne is a sign of him lacking common sense. But nah, it's him knowing, understanding, and challenging his own limits. Also it's him being a charitable human being. Like he has enough common sense to go around and tbh it's the only thing keeping the family alive.
"Master Bruce, you may not use Elmer's Glue All to close a wound."
"Master Dick I would encourage you not to teach Master Duke acrobatics on the glass coffee table."
"Miss Stephanie I would not advise trying to consume an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting, and no, I do not care if Master Jason dared you to."
Tada, there's the list! Sorry that was probably a lot longer than anyone wanted, but I enjoy talking about how ditzy the batfam is. Like they're all geniuses but at the same time they're just sooooo dumb.
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mariuscomehome · 3 years
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//minor spoilers for marius character story chapter 2!!! and luke's chapter 2 as well oops
i was going to reblog this onto the moron post i made in the early hours of this morning but it quickly grew way beyond my original intentions, so im annexing it. i promise there's a funny conclusion just give it a little time !! why are there so many words ;-;
that post came about because i was thinking about nxx group dynamics, particularly marius (BIG SURPRISE LOL) and how from what we know of him he doesnt seem to have many close friends. if any. his schedule is incredibly packed from school, running pax, nxx investigations, and his own art, and we know he isn't getting enough sleep, (yknow what zak made a great post analyzing the boys schedules here ya go) to the point that he considers giving up art to make time for his other responsibilities. there's no way he has a social life - i'm sure he did, but it would have been the first thing to go, to make room for everything else in his life. every mention of him attending a social event, iirc, has been directly related to some kind of business venture or obligation, unless he's hanging out with mc, who seems to be the only person he's able (or willing) to make that kind of time for.
which is something he has in common with luke, it seems. lol.
IM PUTTING IN A READMORE THIS POST IS TOO DANG LONG LOL
back to marius. i need to do some more research on the timeline, but my understanding is that he was studying overseas and got called back when giann went missing, one or two years ago? to run pax. (which is the official story, more likely to me is that it was completely voluntary as he wanted to look into his brother's disappearance - was he involved with the nxx before then? had he already met artem and vyn, or no? if anyone knows the answers to these questions please please tell me). so in all likelihood he's left his entire social circle in florence, come back to hang out in an office all day, and then go sit in a meeting with vyn, his tutor, and artem, who is eight years older than him. i'm sure normally they get along just fine, but when does marius get to be a kid? when does he mess around with people his own age? he doesnt.
enter mc, who is much closer to him in age, and who he doesn't hesitate to joke around with. she must be a huge relief to him. and he met her right before being accused of murder. can he not rest??
pivot. we're talking about luke now. it goes without saying that luke is, has been, and will be going through some pretty heavy shit, and mc is simultaneously a huge reprieve from that and a bludgeon that he uses to destroy himself emotionally at every single opportunity. the whiplash is insane he's like "haha this is great i'm in love with you and you are my best friend and i am going to die forever changing the trajectory of your life, hurting you and that's unforgivable and i should stay away from you but i can't because i'm a terrible selfish person- haha what's that? no i'm fine! how are you?" i hate him.
yeah so then it's like when does luke get a break? huh? we know he has aaron, who is really good for him and helping him work through his stuff, but his stuff is irreparably tied to his complex feelings about mc and his own mortality etc, etc, and also aaron is literally his doctor. every single one of their conversations is like "luke, try harder" "no. im gonna die soon." "you will with that attitude i will FIX YOU MYSELF, STOP BEING LIKE THIS." "..... still got that expiry date tho" like even the person who is arguably the best for luke's mental state, actually understands what is going on with him and is actively trying to help him at every opportunity to the point of literally robbing him and sending him on a.. scavenger hunt.... aaron what are you doing
luke literally cannot escape his issues. marius cannot escape his work. i think they should, (after spending enough time around each other to kind of figure each other out, become immune to the other's specific brand of annoying, stop being jealous at how effortlessly close the other is to mc- look it might take a little time) be friends, and find that kind of respite in each other, where their other obligations just aren't even relevant and they can just kind of let the facade fall away and do whatever. they're closer in age and they both need more time to be young and impulsive and have other people who they can do that with.
i think they should be stupid young men who do stupid things. they roughhouse. they both like... extreme sports? i think? they drink together. marius, who knows the perfect amount of wine to drink to get just tipsy enough at a work function. luke, who knows where to buy the best, cheapest beer. swapping beverages and immediately getting piss drunk and calling mc together to tell her that shes missing out, she should have come with them, boo, and its four in the morning and she only picks up because she woke up early to add six pages to a report thats due on artems desk at seven, and she still pretends to get annoyed at them but shes really just happy to see them getting along.
vyn, luke, and marius being left alone in the nxx meeting room for some reason. by the end of it, the table is broken clean in two. luke and marius both blame vyn, who asserts that he never touched that table, but doesn't directly disagree with them and offers to buy a new one. (HE'S SO OMINOUS....)
the new table has wheels so when marius and mc get to a meeting early, he tries to lean on it while he's flirting and ends up on his ass. he sprawls out on the floor and tries to keep going as though this was totally intentional (because mc is laughing and its worth it), but of course luke walks in and he gets soooo embarrassed.
let them be morons!!!
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I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot
(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.
Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 
My answer? Magda.
I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 
Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)
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“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”
“But I want you to stay safe.”
“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”
“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”
“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”
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That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.
The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.
Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.
As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.
Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.
Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.
Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.
Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.
Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…
He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.
Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.
“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.
She would also need to tell the Countess.
Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.
The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.
One twitched in response.
Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.
That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.
Hope.
Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.
…A leg spasmed.
It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.
Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.
The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.
“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.
“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.
“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.
“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.
“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.
“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.
“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.
“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.
The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.
“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.
Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.
Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.
Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.
Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.
“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.
For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.
If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.
So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.
The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.
“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.
Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.
Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.
“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.
Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.
Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.
The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.
Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.
Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.
“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.
The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.
At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.
Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.
The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.
At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.
Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.
The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.
Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?
The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.
“Cassandra, you little shit.”
Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.
“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.
With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.
As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.
Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.
She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.
Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.
The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.
In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.
Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.
“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.
“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.
“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.
And what they saw? There were no words.
It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.
Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.
All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.
Multiple somethings.
Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.
Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.
If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.
But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.
The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.
Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.
Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.
It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.
Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.
“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.
“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.
“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”
“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.
“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.
“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”
“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.
“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.
The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.
Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.
Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.
While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.
Maybe it had just needed a drink.
By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.
“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.
Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.
“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.
“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.
“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”
“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.
“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”
Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.
More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.
In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:
I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.
Bonne chance,
The Duke
The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.
“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.
While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.
“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.
“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.
With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.
Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.
Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.
By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.
She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.
She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.
Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.
She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.
But most of all, she wanted her Bela.
Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.
After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.
“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.
“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”
“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.
The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.
Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.
Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.
They were alive.
Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.
Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.
As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.
“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.
I won’t be long.
EPILOGUE:
“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.
“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.
Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.
Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.
“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.
“No,” Luana replied.
“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”
“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.
“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.
“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?
She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.
Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.
“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.
“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.
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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years
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Thurs 18 March ‘21
The Zayn/ Zach Sang interview is happening, for real this time (fingers crossed)! It’s scheduled for tomorrow!! Zach promises to ask lots of NIL questions. And I really believe it’ll happen this time, Zayn OUT THERE doing promo-- he did multiple radio spots yesterday and answered every question thrown his way however stupid, even throwing caution to the wind and taking on the one they’re all always trying to avoid (though not so far to the wind as to choose any of the other options each of which would be a scandal in a different way- you can take the boy out of the media training but...)- “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “Niall is my favorite. How about that? There you go. Niall makes the best music. Yeah I will say that he makes better music than me. Yeah, I’m a Niall fan." About the grammys he said, “It's nothing to do with my own personal gain because even if they nominated me at this stage, I wouldn't even go and accept the award because it doesn't mean anything to me.”
Zayn talked about how he just wanted to do a song with Ingrid, he didn’t know what, “I didn’t expect it to be anything less than great but it was better than that… it hit the nail on the head” and “the fact that it’s an important message in the song makes it better.” He also said that he listens to a lot of country music and would really like to collab with Chris Stapleton. OKAY! TBH I can hear how that makes sense- amazing, I am manifesting this, come on universe! He also said that he will have new music this year in an old school R&B style though and that he would like to do live shows after the pandemic!! If I didn’t think he was just saying things I would be LOSING MY MIND right now but omg WHAT IF?? He said Khai is an easy baby, a good sleeper and eater, that he likes singing to her, and that Gigi is a “wicked mom” and “a big help,” LMAO (RIP Zayn, strangled by his baby mama). RCA posted a couple more gorgeous new Zayn pics, and Ingrid raves about how Zayn’s fans are “the sweetest most supportive people” and she feels “like I’ve been hugged by a million stars today.” Am I to understand that it’s possible for stans to treat a woman working with their fave with kindness?? My mind is REELING!
Hopefully Harry has had enough time to process having achieved a great industry honor, because yesterday brought another- he was on Beyonce’s insta! She included a picture of the two of them talking backstage in her big grammys wrap up post (plus he’s visible behind her in a shot of her winning- say what you will about the orange jacket it’s great for visibility!) And Lil NasX, perfect as always, has something to say about Harry too- he says “stop using me as a bait against harry styles. I love harry, if y’all fw what I wear say it without mentioning him,” and posts a couple examples of the types of tweets he means such as “we have GOT to stop acting like Harry Styles is a male fashion icon when lil nas x is right there.” Stop pitting girls against each other2k21! Nas gets it, bless him. Oh yeah and an old pap video from DWD set of Harry going into Olivia’s trailer posted which I ignored because it was so completely uninteresting but apparently that’s a BIG DEAL to some people. My bad! You’re so right, the only reason someone would possibly go into a room with a coworker is obviously that they’re fucking! They probably had sex right there while the paps were outside! I mean there were a bunch of other people visibly in the trailer too but whatever. Oh and as long as we’re doing nonsense catch up- he was seen with a FEMALE in Malibu the other night omgggg they’re clearly dating. Oh but actually it might have been Mitch! LMAO, but that’s okay we can have discourse about how they’re obviously fucking anyway cause like… dinner! TOGETHER!! The scandal.
Anyway Louis has a message for us, can you guess what it is? Yes that’s right-- “Hope everyone's doing alright!!” No matter how many times he says it, I still love the hello, thanks love (even if it was an afterthought and he was actually there to follow a crypto currency trading account). A bunch of old videos of him were posted today, including one from 2019 where Louis says about acting in his music videos “I wasn’t acting it’s who I am hahahaha” (ahhhhh I miss that laugh) and he’s on the wall of a THIRD MUSEUM! Louis is Art pt lll-- A Doncaster history timeline at the local museum has a big entry for Doncaster’s finest export, labeled “Louis Tomlinson Achieves Super Stardom”! Earlier entries were his face (hung up high) in the National Portrait Gallery and the science museum employee who saw their chance and took it by crediting a mushroom joke to him, a deep Video Diaries reference in the year of 2019; whoever that unknown louie is I hope they are having a very nice day every day, what a hero.
And a photodump from Zayn’s favorite member of OT4! Labeled DUMP (charming thank you) Niall posts an assortment of selfies (that sunglasses one! Ashe agrees, commenting “photo number four thank you very much”) and aesthetic pics and one tiny snippet of a piano tune, and speaking of photodumps from favorites of Zayn’s, a BUNCH of outtakes from Liam’s Grinder Tetu photoshoot just got posted and if I were a gay man I’m pretty sure I would have just had a heart attack, view with care they should probably be PG13.
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nuttytani · 3 years
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a/n- if you enjoyed reading it; feedback is highly appreciated💖 this is my first hp headcanon 👁️👄👁️ P.S this doesn’t have a specific timeline so that’s entirely up to you + no mentions of hogwarts/magic.
•these are just some hcs i came up with, please don’t take them siriusly xDDD (lol). if you disagree with any of these, that’s fine! this is completely based off of my imagination and my perspective of these characters + most of the points were like ‘in the heat of the moment’ ideas so they might not make sense
fandom: harry potter 
warnings: none except for the whole thing being a ‘i just winged it’ and it’s not proof read.
pairing: remus, james, sirius, gn!reader
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❝Living with the Marauders hc❞
James:
Holy cow- idk what to say about this one.
It’s honestly a mess, everything is a mess- from your house- your sleeping schedules, your attire- the two of you…. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G is a mess™ 
Cooking is all on you, because when James joins you in the kitchen- ummm it’s a chaos. Not that he CAN’T cook or doesn’t know how to- James is quite the capable man it’s just...he can be a super messy cooker(is that a word? Maybe chef?). He’ll use up all the spoons in the drawer because ‘that one got dirty’ smh. 
Yep he’s that cook
During the weekends and days off , the two of you would be eating snacks, junk or takeout on the couch while binge watching some chick flick movies...cuz James lowkey likes- nvm- LOVES them. But he’ll never admit it shrug though it’s extremely obvious, you never point it out. He’d be that: wtf-that’s-so-stupid movie watcher. Gets annoying at times so you have to shush him 
James: gosh! Who writes letters to get rid of a crush?
You: ….It’s just a movie, James- chill.
James: AND WHY WOULD ANYONE SEND THEM TO HER CRUSH!??? YGFGH FIRST OF ALL WHO THE HELL WRITES THE ADDRESS IF YOU WERE NEVER GONNA POST IT IN THE FIRST PLACE-
Yea, you get what I mean? (also a bonus if you know which movie i’m referencing)
Grocery shopping goes like this:
You: we’re out of bread and veggies, come on let’s go shopping
James: It’s a sunday!
You: ...
James: let’s go tomorrow?
Lo and behold, tomorrow never arrives so when you’re at the verge of an extremely empty fridge...you grab your wallet (with James) and drag him to the market
When either of you are busy with work, the other will constantly bring food, water and scold ‘take a damn break!’ and all those nice things :”) health is important so never overwork yourself guys!
Laundry, washing dishes, cleaning the house- it’s all split between the two of you regularly and the chores are circled around so it’s never unfair :D
God forbid you two EVER do chores together though- it always takes up forever to end. Mostly because of James’ mindless chatter and jokes.
Obviously you have your own room in the house BUT you and James both prefer to sleep together snuggled up! 
Remus:
Oop- everything is wayyy too clean, wayyy too scheduled with Rem. From morning till night.
He’s like a mom. Keeping things neat and tidy, every item in the house having its own designated place (determined by him) and if it is placed elsewhere...welp- IT NEEDS TO GO BACK IN ITS PLACE IMMEDIATELY!!!!!! If not- umm there’ll be consequences. What kind of consequences, you ask? No hugs and/headpats for a day!! Ikr? scary.
If you wish to sleep in, oh no no no- Remus will drag you out of bed. Through any measures! Maybe by: tickling, planting playful small kisses on your face, etc.
The two of you share a room because why not? Remus prefers to sleep with you in his arms because he simply LOVES cuddling with you and feel your warmth.  
Btw, believe it or not Remus owns the same and exact pair of shirts and coats; your wardrobe is filled with it. And it’s all the same colour palette: browns, many and different shades of it. God bless if you ever see a flash of other colours.
You: OHH Remus! When did you buy this red shirt?
Remus: Hmm- I didn’t, you bought that
You: ...nvm
Living with Remus is basically having a mom 2.0 but slightly carefree. And i mean sLIGHTLY
Remus does all the grocery shopping, it just happened to be that way; a silent rule.
Let me tell you a secret though, it’s because of his impulsive chocolate tendencies. He wouldn’t want you to see exactly HOW many chocolate bars he buys- if you do see- it’s a LOT
Cooking is fun, it’s never a chore with Rem. The two of you split the little things to do so making food becomes efficient.
Other chores are split between you and Remus
During days off and the weekends, you two just like to unwind from all the stress and exhaustion aka sleep in (yes, these are the only days you’ll be able to oversleep xD) and laze around the living room. Most of the time Remus likes to stay at home and relax by the couch and do nothing but have you in his arms while the two of you do your own thing.
Sometimes though, you get bored and force him out of his cocoon and venture outside.
Remus: minding his own business
You: Let’s go out!
Remus: nope runs
You: yes link arms with him and drag him out the house
Sirius
Living with Sirius is unpredictable! And I mean it!
You might expect him to do something, but he’ll do the complete opposite! e.g ‘oh, he’s going to sleep in today- just like yesterday’ but nO
He’ll surprise you by waking up early THAT day
To be fair though, most of the time Sirius DOES like to sleep in with you- it’s a heavenly sort of feeling. Waking up next to you with the sun filtering through the curtains- making both of your skin shine!
(off topic BUt- I hc Sirius to be someone who is carefree and does everything depending on his mood but that doesn’t mean he will force you to go along with his plans or anything of sorts. It’s  just what he does.)
Chores? What chores? Sirius doesn’t know-
He’d rather spend time with you than scrubbing dishes...jkjk- well not entirely jk sweats. He’s rather lazy when it comes to cleaning/chores but will help you out! although begrudgingly
Sirius: Tsk- we could’ve been out right now
You: Yes we could have, but we aren’t… come on! That window isn’t going to clean itself 
Sirius: You’re lucky that I love you-
Days off and weekends consist of forgetting about those unwashed laundry while taking a walk downtown, grabbing coffee, visiting parks or a long drive (on a motorbike or a car, yall have both because why not?). You must be thinking; what about those parties!??? Well… those are rather rare since both of you and your friends have become more busy as responsibilities started piling up , but that doesn’t mean yall don’t occasionally hold casual parties, although they aren’t as crazy as they used to be.
On days when you aren’t outside for a change, you and Sirius like to just lay in bed and talk about whatever and unwind from all the stress. He will also let you play with his hair!
Sirius: ewww don’t make those weird hairstyles on me babe!
Also Sirius: mmmh! Gotta say, i’m rocking the tiny pigtails 
You: snorting you sure are!
Sirius while smiling: puts in colourful butterfly clips around his braids I look like a princess! 
Lots of music playing in the background, throughout the day
Includes silly dancing
Either of you always join the other in the end xDDD lowkey turns into a mix of salsa and waltz (how about saltz/waltza?)
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