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a-gal-with-taste · 1 year

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Certainties & Mistletoe

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable... but the event it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 2469 Words | AO3

Part 2 | Part 3

Tags: Oneshot, mistletoe-troupe, humor, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, pre-prelationship, first-kiss, pining (??), Scrooge being a grump (shocker), open-ended, haven't watched the movie, just think Scrooge is kinda-

A/N: I have. No excuse. But blame @sweatandwoe and Netflix anyways, because they had no rights, but caused this anyways.

Upmost in certainty, were these three facts:

One, that Ebenezer Scrooge was the richest man in this district of London.

Two, that Ebenezer Scrooge was the most miserable, selfish, cold-hearted miser in the district, possibly in the country, certainly within the distract.

And three, that Ebenezer Scrooge kissed sweetly enough, that one could nearly forget the prior two-facts.

Or, rather... the Master Ebenezer didn't exactly kiss you back. In fact he didn't little much of anything, and remaining-still as you pressed your own lips, delicate as the falling-flecks of white, to his.

Was it a mistake? Undoubtedly.

Foolish? Certainly, you could be out in a slum-house come tomorrow morning, dismissed in disgrace.

But, the mistletoe... oh, it was silly, but the it had looked so inviting! Berries casted soft glow in the nearby light of lanterns, spiked leaves untouched with frost.

The one-decoration the old bastard had enough paitence to withstand, and of course, it had been your demise. Like the temptation of the apple, like the god of hell-itself beckoning, you had almost been eager to lean-forth towards your doom.

Foolish, stupid, silly mistake, one that could ruin you.

And yet, you didn't pull back.

And neither did he.

From the moment you had spoken his name, soft as snow's first-fall on the porch, the sole movement Ebenezer managed, before you cupped a hand over a sturdy, well-trimmed cheek, stood high on the tip of your toes, and sealed your fate by pressing his lips to your own.

He had yet to pull back.

Yet to move entirely, speak, or... frankly, you feared he lost the ability to breathe.

Ironically, it was that fact that finally convinced you to retract from the man. Not the fact this was Master Scrooge, nor even that your future was as uncertain as a ship traversing through rock-laden waters onto certain doom...

But the fact that your simple kiss, had been enough to completely halt the miser entirely.

Heels kiss the ground in silence, as open your eyes to gaze at the looming man, who, indeed, was in some-sort of state of inanimation. More frozen than an hanging-icicle, your gaze flicked from an unrising-chest, tightly-pursed lips, eyes sightlessly staring-forth, and a distinct lack of pale-clouds emanating from mouth or nostrils.

One could almost fear the kiss had been enough to kill him.

You, however, always preferred being of the optimistic-sort, if a bit realistic.

Assuming the less-dire, you took another step back, and spoke as if Ebenezer was still residing well-into the land of conscious thought and reality, and not clearly miles-away in snowy clouds. "Forgive me, sir. That was a poor-choice, and you have my sincerest apology for my action, I... I have no excuse."

Well, there was one excuse. But you could hardly blame a decorative plant.

Speaking of it, though it was a bit of a strain, your fingers tugged the innocent, demonic little pest from the doorway free. The ribbon it was attached to fluttered simply to the ground, but you dared not stoop to pick it up - instead, placing the plant in the certain of your palm, you held it out between yourself and your employer.

A peace offering.

Though this was an event that was anything but peaceful, you still held out the offending object with a brief smile, one that wobbled at the corners. Not just with the shivers of your body, but with the slow-looming knowledge of what you had just done, and what it would cost you.

What was the price, of a simple kiss?

Scrooge, a most professional businessman, would surely be able to tell you. But he seemed rather strained with words, speech made entirely impossible even as life resumes within him, thank God...

He is able to blink. Twice, before his eyes dropped down to yours, than down to what was effectively, the murder-weapon of your current employment in your palm, before his mouth moved to form a single-word:

"What."

"I'm sorry," You said again, shaky smile fading, but the trembling of your lips moved instead to reside your voice. "I-i... there is no excuse. I can only offer an apology, which I do... I do so quite, quite heartily, Mister Scrooge."

Worrying at your bottom lip, your own eyes followed the same trajectory as his own. Darting from his unreadable, unblinking eyes, and those damning plump-red berries held aloft in your gloved-palm.

Something wet, almost burning in comparison to the winter's chill, began to prick at the back of your eyelids, before finally, large and dark-clad gloves decended down onto your hand.

Pinching the culprit between his fingers like a sixpence, when he raised it to eyelevel for inspection, you dropped your own gaze to settle down near the ground. You couldn't help noting how perfectly his boots gleamed in a somber-black, causing the snowflakes that fell upon it to be in a perfect outline.

A distraction. Welcomed, but you roused yourself from it to face reality, even if you kept your gaze well-averted.

"I shall pack upon the morrow, if it suits you," You whispered, words trapped on a small cloud of frigid air, and releasing near-silently between you both. "You shant see me again, Master Scrooge, if it is in your desire... I fear that is the minimal I can offer for my transgression. I'm sorry. P-please... please accept it, as my truest apology."

"... ahem."

You raised your gaze, now truly stinging with the weight of water at your lashes, but a singular blink was quick to ease them away. Despair faded, replaced by confusion at the... oddest expression on the face of Ebenezer Scrooge.

He had turned away from you, unsurprisingly. Perhaps he couldn't stomach the sight of such unruly behavior from an otherwise acceptable-maid, but had a rather fixated-attention on the small branch of green and red in his fingers.

And, apparently, on his collar.

He was adjusting it, clearing his throat periodically, as his attention remained averted from your own growing-bewilderment, and remained steadfast on loosening his tight-cravat.

"... Master?"

Another clearing of his throat. Without the guide of his facial-expression, you were unable to discern his exact emotions at this given-moment, but you deduced that it was a scoff of acknowledgement, and attempted to salvage yourself once-more.

"I... shall guess you will have me return-early, to do a days work before my final departure? Or shall I, perhaps, remain the evening so-as to prepare for my replacement on the morrow-"

Unlikely he would find-one willing enough to work for the miser, even with the steady-promise of coin, but it was a possibility quickly-forgotten with his sudden-snap, like a whip of words.

"What foolishness. You think I shall take-up the duster, the broom in your absence?"

You blinked. The dust had been nearly an inch-thick on your first day of working, you half-imagined the man didn't know such objects of cleaning existed. "I... I only thought-"

"-that I would discard a perfectly-suitable maid? Bah, don't be absurd." You were not exempt from the trademark scorn that caused many in London to wince at the mere-mention of the name Scrooge, but it was... muted?

Certainly not softer, and lacking even the basics of kindness, but... you did not flinch. Only blinked, and quietly asked the man what he would like you to do now.

The dark, rich leather-gloves creaked as his pinched-fingers tightened sharply on the deep-emerald stalk. Silence reigned, in a muted-world where little existed, save for the soft-falling snow, the two of them, and the mistletoe in his grasp.

Then, after another strange clearing of his throat, Scrooge brought words into the small, trapped-reality the two of you shared.

"What would like, is for you to go home," He commanded sharply. "And ensure my coin is put to good use, by arriving back here on the morrow, on-time."

You blinked. "You... would like me to return? Even after-"

"Was it not what I said?" Ebenezer interrupted, voice even sharper than before... no. Now it bordered on shrill, something choked. "You certainly won't be if you were to catch a chill, a likely consequence if you were to remain-out any longer on this night."

It's a dismissal, but one that barely registers until he jerks his head back, briefly facing you with the gesture.

The sight of cheeks, dusted in a deep-pink besides his well-trimmed salt-and-pepper sideburns, is enough to make you blink. Certaiy, the chill is enough to coax a darker-shade onto one's skin, and you know that you have some frost-nipped skin of your own, but Scrooge's shade was enough to worry you.

Others might dance a jig at the thought of old Ebenezer Scrooge catching a chill, long-standing karma being served at last, but a burst of worry still resides within you.

The thought of ailment or illness befalling the gentleman, even if that gentleman was Scrooge, was enough to grant you concern at the sight of reddened-cheeks. Emotion outfitted sense, as you stepped forward. "Sir, are you quite well-?"

"Go home," He snapped, the sound harsh and reverberating through gritted teeth. More akin to a growl of a hunter than man, causing you, the prey, frozen in your steps with wide-eyes. "I hardly plan to pay you for remaining later-hours, and I will still expect you upon the morrow without delay. It would be, in your upmost best interest, to leave."

A dismissal.

Ebenezer Scrooge was... letting you off, with only a dismissal.A mere be-gone for the evening, no different than any other you have received in the days-past, if a little more scornful than the rest.

You'd be a fool not to take this gift, perhaps the only the old bastard could provide - absolution, an escape from this humiliation transgression.

You would be a fool not to take it. Yet, you're the kind of fool to hesitate.

Not long - you don't have a death-wish, despite recent actions may otherwise suggest - but after another moments' pause to study the man, you hesitated curstied in obedient politeness, gathering your skirts high-enough to step down the ice-slick porch-steps.

You had little fear of falling, having traversed this walk on the daily, but some part of you felt quite uncertain.

As if the axis of the world has shifted, in some form or the other, and you walked down the steps with uncertainty of what exactly it was.

And how different your world would look, come morning.

For the moment, longing to remain in normalcy, you turned and called back your quiet, routine salutations to the Master - or rather his back. He had yet to face you fully.

"Good-night, Mister Scrooge."

Stepping down the lane with a tug of your shawl tighter around you, the streetlamp you pass-by offers temporary warmth, refuge from the uncertainty and the unsteadiness beneath your feet...

"Good-night."

... which became only more unsturdy beneath your heels, at the sound of Ebenezer Scrooge, the most miserable man in town, wishing you a good night.

Unheard of.

Inconceivable.

The gentleman had never provided you with a pleasantry in all the time you've known him, and yet now, it's offered in a way that could almost be described, daresay, as soft.

A sharp turn, harsh pivot, that miraculously doesn't send you sprawling onto the ice-slick path, but it's too late. The click of the cane on cobble is enough to signal his retreat, and the sight of his back, shawl catching on a snowy-breeze, is enough to confirm his escape before you can question it.

Before you can question if it had even happened at all, or if the snow-filled wind carried words as well as ice.

Perhaps you had fallen into madness - surely, the only true explanation for your lapse in good-sense in the first-place.

It was a more pleasing thought, than whatever it could possible mean that Scrooge felt the urge to offer a nicety after such transgression, and one you worked-steadfast of to convincing yourself at, all the way to your small apartment several blocks over.

It was the one-comfort you found, once dressed and tucked beneath your sheets. The solace was well-suited for your buzzing mind, the delusion that his parting-words were merely something of illusion enough to send you into a restful-sleep.

So restful, that you quite nearly forgot the incident entirely upon return to the waking-world.

Certainly, the motification remained in regards to your own-actions, which you were certain had occurred in reality. There came moments when your lips seemed to recall a soft, unfamiliar presence when memories returned of the incident, ensuring you did not forget it.

Apology, one in daylight and well-rehearsed to display true remorse, was well in-order.

You also suspected such would put your mind to ease. While the gentleman had seemed keen to erase the moment in the minutes-following, you resigned to put the event of transgression well-out of your mind, as well as the impossibility of good-night that had followed, and an assurance that such behavior would never transpire-again.

Closing the chapter entirely, and forgetting it's contents.

Including the one where you imagined Ebenezer Scrooge, of all people, wishing you a good-night.

Absurdity!

Such fantasy was only liable and expected to be forgotten entirely, in order to move-forward in life. And when you stepped into his buisness the following-morning, you had intended to do just that. Begin to forget the fact that you had kissed Ebenezer Scrooge, and in response, he had bid you good-night.

That had been your plan.

Your first-step towards normalcy, the first stride back into stability, and you had taken it into his office with an optimistic smile hinting at your face, as you pushed open the door.

Your plan to move-past the incident was foiled immediately, when you opened the door to the man's office.

Catching sight of that same accursed sprig of spiked-green and perfect red-berries, atop Mister Ebenezer Scrooge's otherwise entirely plain-desk, and settle in a filled-glass of water.

Preserving the event with it's allowed continued existence.

And once-more shifting reality into realms uncertain, when steele-blue raise from endless inspection of the cut-plant, to entourage gaze in an examination of equal-intensity.

The gaze neutralized. Becoming safely familiar, even as the words that followed, were not.

"Good morning."

And you realized, it would not be so-easy to return to what reality had been. Before the night prior where you had taken the apple, the hand-to-hell, in the form of following the practice of mistletoe.

Because, there was now no possibility to return from when-once-you-came.

A fact solidified, when you opened your mouth, and whispered in-repeat words you never thought such a miserable man was capable of saying to you...

"Good morning."

... but the fact that he did, was a fact that confirmed that change was here, like the days' fresh-blanket of cool snow upon the city of London.

A change refreshing, despite the uncertainty it held for the winter ahead.

#how could netflix do this?#scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge 2022 #scrooge 2022 x reader #ebenezer scrooge #scrooge x reader #netflix #reader insert #this is only 50% joke #guess what the other 50% is #fanfic #female reader #scrooge fanfic #writing #christmas

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ickypuppi3 · 1 year

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50’s au where best friends billy and robin, who are very much in a lavender marriage, come into some money and move to a fancier neighbourhood meanwhile heather and steve, who are unhappily married and live in said neighbourhood find out there’s a couple moving in next door

so the day after billy and robin move in, heather goes over with a plate of cookies while steve’s at work and her, robin and billy just click straight away - billy meets steve later on when he gets home and billy’s sitting out on the porch with a drink but it’s them so obviously they immediately get off on the wrong foot

robin tells billy to sort his shit out because they can’t be making enemies when they’ve only just got here and they’ve got an act to keep up and heather tells steve to take the stick out his ass so billy and steve go out a few times for drinks to call a truce and become friends

in the meantime, robin and heather have been spending more and more time together and eventually robin sits billy down and is like ok i’ve gotta be honest, me and heather have been sleeping together and i think i’m in love with her - because robin and billy always agreed to be honest with one another and to not stay together if it was going to make them sad or if they found someone they really wanted to be with - and billy just stares at her and is like hey that’s really funny actually because i’ve been meaning to tell you that steve and i have been doing the exact same thing also i really like him .. yeah on second thought it might be love too, actually

and steve and heather talk to each other and they argue and cry and eventually they’re both like ok so what do we do now and they get billy and robin over and it’s super awkward for a moment before billy says something stupid and robin makes a joke and pulls heather to her for a hug

and billy smiles at them before turning to steve who’s looking stressed as hell and chewing on his thumb so he goes over and pulls steve’s hand away and tucks his hair behind his ear and it’s all very sad and gay

and then billy sort of pulls everyone out of their funk by spinning around and snapping his fingers and being like you know, we could all just .. stay as we are .. nothing has to change for us to get what we want and heather’s like ok how so billy walks over to the wall between their houses and knocks on it a few times before kicking it and steve’s like please don’t kick my wall but billy’s like no this wall could have a door built into it .. i could put a door between our houses

and that’s what they do, the end, happily ever after

#i have some thoughts #harringrove #buckleway #billy and robin are having the time of their lives #and they love each other dearly like platonically but still a lot #because they have that bond yk #and they have cats together #heather and steve have all the love of kate and leo in revolutionary road #it’s bad #like they cannot stand each other #but they get on better when they’re not pretending to be in love with each other so #it works out really #for everyone !#this could be any year really but i saw some of those pictures of lesbians in the 50’s so like #that’s why we’re here #also i was thinking about the truman show and the clothes in that so yeah #also also they live in a duplex i guess that’s what it’s called #not my problem if it doesn’t make sense for any reason they just do #ickyspeaks

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just-slightly-chaotic · 2 months

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i need someone to poke me with a stick every 10 minutes and tell me to study

#i've watched 4 youtube videos #changed playlists 7 times #tried to reorganise my room before giving up #changed locations thrice #made 2 tumblr posts that went in my drafts #and made myself 3 hot beverages #(one of which i forgot about before taking one sip and then went to make another one because 'oh i wanted a tea! can't believe i forgot'#searched for 10 minutes for my mug (spoiler alert: it was on my table with already prepared tea) and then just took a different one.#then i came back to the room with it just to come face to face with the other tea)#oh and i also sent 50 messages to my little brother who's in class rn #oops #and guess what i'm doing right now? making yet another tumblr post instead of studying #the adhd seems to be adhding particularly hard today #tea's ramblings

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waywardsalt · 9 months

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small little thing abt botw/totk and the future of zelda games considering it seems likely that future zelda games might be in the same style as those two and how i feel like botw/totk don't actually feel like zelda games (kind of messy i just typed this out in a kind of informal or whatever way) (this post is long af btw so uhhhh yeah)

im part of the group that claims that botw/totk aren't 'real' zelda games but... i guess they are technically 'real' zelda games, but... they sure as fuck don't feel like it, and because of that, i'm not at all excited with the idea of future loz games being in the same style, especially with the pitfalls these last two games have fallen into having been things that past zelda games did especially well, it feels like things have been sort of flipped on their heads in terms of what's being valued or whatever

like... the best parts of older zelda games were things like the story and the characters and the puzzles and the dungeons and stuff like that... the best parts of botw/totk right now are just the gameplay. people enjoy these new characters, but they dont have the narrative backing that older games do, they don't have the same impactful arcs or roles allowed by a more linear story

the point i want to get at though is how botw/totk honestly don't feel like direct evolutions or steps up from past zelda games but rather just... entirely different game styles (open world games) with the zelda flavoring and worldbuilding and story styling slapped on top.

i mean... i feel like a half-decent example of some other well-known franchises that have jumped on this (honestly kind of thoughtless) open-world bandwagon are mario (mario odyssey) pokemon (sword/shield and scarlet/violet) fire emblem (kind of. with some free-walking segments in 3 houses and engage) and the soulsborne type games (elden ring), these are all other well known and storied game series' that have somewhat made the move to open world, and i think that switch was a bit smoother, kept the core and integrity of the games that came before much better than botw/totk did

elden ring is the easiest to explain- the gameplay loop and core mechanics are the same and build upon past games' you just have more room to run around and get killed in with some little open-world flourishes like material gathering.

fire emblem is... a bit less flexible in terms of changing up the core gameplay, and the addition of open-world segments are added to add bonuses to the strategy gameplay and allow for more support-building oppourtunities and little minigames, and its more or less evolution from echoes' dungeon-crawling bits and the customizable castle in fates. the core gameplay still effectively works the exact same, just with some little class or mechanic tweaks and additions.

mario odyssey, though each world was pretty massive, still had your typical 3d mario platforming, and the new hat stuff fit in pretty well with olderpowerups and gimmicks, and the boss battles feel and work pretty similarly to the way they used it- odyssey does feel like an evolution from past mario games (ps. playing two-player with one person as cappy snaps the game in half. its the secret easy mode lol)

the new pokemon games are pretty much just the same as past pokemon games, theyre just open world and buggy as fuck rip have extra little open-world flourishes that build on what past games set up. the battling works the same as ever and the progression is the same with a number of powerful trainers you have to battle to continue forward.

with botw/totk... the progression is dramatically different in terms of power-scaling, world presentation, item-gathering, puzzle-solving... pretty much everything in the established zelda format. i get that it was pretty much the aim with botw to have a fresh start and throw out a lot of the old standards but it just makes them feel so dramatically alien to past zelda games; theyre completely different experiences in pretty much every single way, and as such they dont feel like what we've (well, people who have started with and spent a lot of time with other loz games) learned to associate with the zelda titles.

with open world games in general it's a bit harder to have a truly impactful narrative akin to those in past zelda games, anyways. i will admit that botw was a good execution of trying out something entirely new, and the narrative and gameplay and world actually complement each other very well, so despite what i've said in the past I can't really fault it's narrative too much since it's a less traditional sort of narrative and effectively does what it aims to do very well.

totk, on the other hand, proves that this style of game does not mesh with the old style of storytelling at ALL. linear games can have proper narratives with coherent stakes, developing characters, twists and reveals and building emotion and mood- and all of that is thrown out the window with totk when they decided to try and have both a more linear story with actual reveals and development and emotion, while also letting you literally spoil it for yourself out the gate.

you can't really have a well-executed story when players are capable of doing things drastically out of order and of jumping into story beats without the prior buildup and straight-up ruining what could be otherwise emotional reveals, and players being capable of doing this is hard-baked in how the game fundamentally works. I honestly feel bad for people who found the fifth sage by accident before anything else.

you can't effectively have a linear story with character growth and plot developments and impactful moments while also allowing it to be experienced out of order and with massive time gaps in between; with this kind of stuff, you can't really have your cake and eat it too. say what you will about the linearity of past zelda games, but i bet you that midna wouldn't be as beloved as a character as she is if it weren't for the linear order of the story and its events. certain parts of storytelling may demand for a linear manner of telling that story.

botw's story works because none of the memories reveal anything groundbreaking taht you don't already know; they are optional and merely give you more information about these characters from link's past and simply inform you about the girl keeping ganon at bay. if you find a late memory first, that's fine- it technically doesnt reveal anything too important to you, it just fills in some gaps for you and your player character. it makes sense within the story itself for the world to be so open and for you to be able to do what you can; the story is not the focus, nor is it even needed to beat the game. the story was made with the gameplay and what you are allowed to do in mind, and as such doesn't include things such as in-depth character development or important plot-twists.

on the other hand, you can easily spoil totk's biggest plot twist in a handful of different ways completely by accident, just by getting curious about the world around you. this can shatter a lot of the mystery or tension in the plot and this can happen completely by accident to someone playing the game organically and blindly. the story itself doesn't take this into account, it reads more like a linear story that would be more suited to a linear style of play, coming across things in order to ramp up the stakes and let things be revealed at the best possible time. (tbh totk's story doesnt seem to take the player into account in general, if the game forcing you to watch basically the same long cutscene four fucking times says anything, jesus christ)

narrative pitfalls aside, botw/totk put heavy emphasis on gameplay, but not in the same way older zelda games did, and as such trade away the unique items and gimmick-y game-specific mechanics for a small toolset handed to you out the gate. what botw/totk do- giving you everything you need from the start and having very little true varation in the gameplay from then on out- make sense and works just fine for an open world game. there is, however, a lack of actual depth to that gameplay that other open world games do have (off the top of my head, the ability to unlock and upgrade abilities and have general character upgrades in fenyx rising as well as the impressive depths of elden ring's combat and character customization system). the most depth botw/totk has to the actual gameplay is just the fourish different weapon types and the ways you use your fourish abilities (saying fourish bc for real ultrahand and fuse are fundamentally the exact same thing). there is also just raising the little defense numbers on your armor and getting more stamina and health, but that does absolutely nothing to the actual gameplay but make link more durable.

i mean, sure, health in past loz games just makes link more durable, too, but thats how health upgrades in any other game work.

the gameplay switch makes sense, considering the switch from a linear puzzle-adventure concentric game to a more sandbox-esque open-world game, but it does not mesh with the former loz formula at all, so while the shift in style makes sense, it makes me think that you can't have a previous-style loz experience in an open-world sandboxish sort of game. especially with how in totk you can very easily bypass most of the fire temple just using the mechanics handed to you at the start. you can't have the same type of zelda dungeons in a game where you are allowed to do it 'wrong' and the game itself does not allow for the same kinds of puzzles.

i am of the opinion that so long as future zelda games work the same way botw/totk did, we will not get old-school zelda-style dungeons again.

the loss of a variety of items used for specific puzzles and environment switches is the loss of a varied dungeon experience and the loss of the same kind of world and character progression as past zelda games.

you are handed everything you'll ever need at the start of botw/totk. the only thing that will meaningfully change is how much damage you do. there are no alternate strategies opened up by new items that can double as weapons, no new traversal options or routes opened up by things such as grappling hooks or clawshots or whips or specific wands. even the battle system is drastically different, instead of being enemies that take specific amounts of hits to die while you can obtain progressively stronger swords, enemies are just damage sponges and you can get all kind of weapons that just do different numerical amounts of damage.

the bosses themselves- big staples and draws of zelda games- also work extremely differently. instead of having to leverage specific items to expose weak spots or having to fight in a specific manner to do damage, you are just asked to... do damage. even in totk's bosses, where sage abilities are most certainly helpful, the only boss i found to truly require a sage ability was the lighting temple's boss; the others i either hardly used the sage at all (i didn't use yunobo at all in the second phase of the fire temple boss and hardly had a need for tulin with the wind temple boss [esp considering i was using a 3-shot lynel bow to make the poor fucker a cakewalk]) or found that alternative solutions felt better, like resorting to splash fruit on repeat water temple fights instead of wrestling with having to activate and use sidon's ability. the sages are honestly fairly poor replacements for dungeon specific items.

this kind of causes botw/totk to play more like a poor man's dark souls or just like any other open world rpgish game. i don't play botw/totk for the experience of a zelda game, i play it because it's an open world game that i can walk around in for five minute before switching to something else because i liked something in that other game better.

the combat in botw/totk isnt designed in such a way that makes it feel good. mineru's mech is fucking dismal, but since it's just either shooting with a bow or attacking with one of three types of melee weapon with some timing for a dodge, it can get stale fast. it doesn't necessarily even feel good, since there's not enough variety for it to get really engaging. (this is def an uneven comparison, but elden ring's combat feels considerable better with the different dodges you can do and the amount of attack options you have with just one weapon, not to mention the amount of control you have over your general fighting style.) combat in botw/totk at hour 1 is the exact same as combat in botw/totk at hour 100, the only different being the amount of damage you do or how much of a beating you can take.

it just... the styles of botw/totk can't allow them to feel the same as older zelda games. the shift in style was clearly a good move to draw in series newbies and shake things up, but it comes at the caveat of making them feel distant from their predecessors and uncomfortably similar to other games like them. it's hard to avoid comparisons with elden ring when on the surface they are very similar games, one just feels more true to its core identity

this all is said without mentioning the way in which botw/totk lore feels almost dismissive of past series staples and seems intent on not looking back while also taking every fucking attempt to nudge you and say 'hey, remember that zelda game' and honestly all that shit does is make me want to play a different zelda game.

botw/totk seem altogether very desperate to distance themselves from past zelda games while also being unable to really tear itself from what came before and it just culminates in me spotting linebeck island on the map and going 'damn i miss linebeck' and turning the fucking game off to play phantom hourglass instead. say what you will about phantom hourglass, but it certainly handles its story progression and character development infinitely better than the game that lets you accidentally shatter the impact of the story by deciding to check out that cool temple in the distance of the depths

#quick note abt the examples from early on i got the verdict on soulsborne games from my friend who has actually played more than elden ring #and pokemon was kinda a guess the most recently mainline pokemon game i have is sun/moon #totk has made me really think about what i like in video games and why lmao.#it has also made me appreciate botw a lot more. i prefer the emptier hyrule of botw it just feels extra cluttered in totk #i like how in botw its a lot more natural and more fun to honestly run around in with there being no falling debris or scary holes #salty talks #totk salt #being annoying abt totk again hiiiii. id like to talk abt stuff i liked in other loz games but its hard to start without some kind prompt #im not entirely sure how i could really explain how i feel totk's story failed and why without going in circles for a while #its just. the gameplay and the intended story experience clash like fucking crazy plus the story relies too much on the player #to do a lot of emotional heavy lifting #like. if you want to start a convo with me abt this go for it but this is what i have to say for rn #loz #legend of zelda #totk #botw #totk criticism #i do really appreciate botw now im not gonna lie. its still not amazing in my eyes but i appreciate it for what it is #also i cannot believe totk made linebeck island worse fuck you #like. in botw theres a goddamn chest with 50 rupees and thats a good subtle nod to what's being referenced #in totk theres just two bokoblins and nothing else and i dont care if it wouldve been lazy to just have the chest there again #you explicitly namedropped linebeck might as well make good on it. its more fun to continue having little nods like that #i understand when people say that saying botw isnt a 'real zelda game' is bad criticism but tbh its not really a criticism its just an #observation. it comes with its ups and downs and for me it makes me enjoy these games less and makes me feel a bit alienated #if that makes sense. idk. its late and if i continue with that thought im going to lose it for sure #ig just. im upset abt how totk handled its story and im upset at the idea of... this being the future of these games yknow #it feels like a selfish sentiment but idk #long post #bitching abt totk

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transxfiles · 4 months

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one of my top 10 hobbies has to be getting added to a large group chat and then people forgetting i am there.

#my ex just admitted in front of everyone and the eyes of god that she has not gotten any since we broke up #in spite of trying really hard to get. anything. and talking about how she desperately needs to get dicked down. GIRL. what.#responded to the message with R I P in letter emojis uhm. i dont think anyone will even #notice tbh but its funny to me. personally.#funniest thing is i kinda knew that this was happening but im like well now i have confirmation from the source i guess lol #HONORABLE MENTION OF ANOTHER SITUATION IN THIS GENRE: my friend is a dancer #with a really competitive dance group and she's in a small group of like 13 people who she #interacts with every day and she had a sort of falling out with them thats too complicated to get into here.#but before the falling out they added her to a shared photo album. and right before she decided she was done with the whole thing #she woke up one morning to a notification saying that there were 50+ new photos added to the shared album #and thats how she found out they did a holiday party where they invited everyone but her... BATSHIT. and shes like holy shit #thats petty. and made a whole game of going through the photos with me and some other frieinds.#ballet drama is something else let me tell you holy shit #cricket.chatterbox

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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 4 months

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we need more vivi hurt/comfort in this fandom. #25 prompt (“I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.”) from Artie to Vi if you're up for it? 💛🩵

(hurt/comfort dialogue prompts)

(oof god i'm rusty with these characters. let's get into it)

"I'm fine," she says, for what feels like the millionth time.

"Bullshit," is Arthur's response. "I'm down an arm, Vi, not my fucking eyes. And ho- honestly, I wouldn't- wouldn't even need th-those to tell right now." A hand lands on her shoulder, pushing her down further into the chair for emphasis. "One more try. I'm gonna ask you how you are, and it'd be nice if you c-could answer me honestly."

She shoves him off and stands up, already stalking away, ignoring the shooting pain all up through her side when she does. "God, fuck you. Fuck off. This is so stupid. I don't need,"

And then her vision whites out.

---

She blinks herself fuzzily awake into a world much softer than the one she was just in. She's in bed, she registers, or at least a pile of blankets. The pain is gone, but it also feels like everything else isn't quite online, either. There's a vague clicking noise from somewhere to her right.

"...you hovering all the time," she finishes her thought, although it comes out too mumbly to really deliver.

"j'you say sa- s-something?" The clicking noise stops, and an Arthur appears in her field of view. He looks worried. So, like normal.

"Yeah, uh, what? Why am I in bed?"

Now he just looks exasperated, throwing his hand up in annoyance, which is an improvement at least. "You passed out, stupid! And th-th-then when I freak out, out about it you're all like oh no never mind it's whatever fr- from the fucking floor. 'Why am I in bed.' Dumbass."

She only vaguely remembers that, not that she's going to admit it. Well, okay, question answered. She tries to get up, and Arthur immediately shoves her back into the pillow.

"Hey," she protests.

He makes his usual staccato ch-ch-ch disapproval noise, which she usually thinks is cute when it isn't directed at her. "Nope. I j-just got done bandaging you up, you are not getting up. You, you are st-staying right here."

She tries to wrestle him off, but he's annoyingly persistent and her angle's all off. "Okay, I'm patched up! So it's fine! Let me out!"

Whup, and her hand is flat against the bed, and Arthur's hanging out of his chair to get his arm over her chest and pin her down. "No."

Probably she could flip him. Maybe. He'd hit the wall behind her but not, like, hard. She thinks about it. It's really hard to lift even the non-pinned arm. Maybe she couldn't.

"Stop being stupid," she tells him instead, sounding normal and not at all desperate. "This is nothing."

"It is- v-very much- not nothing."

"This can't be enough to stop me. It isn't! I'm better than this!"

"Get up, th-then!" he challenges.

"I'm not a fucking tranq'd animal!"

He yells wordlessly at her, she shouts back, until they're both panting.

She shoves him again, no real force behind it this time. This is such a waste of fucking time, when he damn well knows they never have enough of it. "I need to get up. You need me out there, you know that."

"Go to hell."

Now tears are welling in her eyes. She's screaming at herself, internally, but for some stupid reason it's not translating into more strength. "We're wasting time, here. I'm ready to go, I can move, I can work. Let me up."

He flops over, into a less aggressive pin, but not actually a less effective one. Their faces are almost touching, which was maybe the idea. "One more try," he says, again.

His damn stubbornness is another thing that she likes more when it isn't being used on her. This is not a fight she is going to win.

"If I fall asleep," she says reluctantly, "and you're not there when I wake up, I'm going to fucking kill you."

That gets a laugh out of him. "M'not going anywhere, Vi."

#the nemesis speaks #the nemesis answers #answrs #swift writes #ask game #mystery skulls animated #oops. i'm using that tag i guess #uh. is this how i normally characterize these guys? i don't remember. this is how i write them now anyway!#lewis is their balancing force that keeps less than 50% of their dialogue from being variations on ''fuck you''#which is also very fun coming from pla where everyone is sooo polite and formal all the time. and these two are. Not That.#uh. other commentary on this. i actually don't know where this is set #it could be just a swap scenario where vivi's the one with the memories but idk. i feel like it's somethin else. smthn less canon adjacent #ALSO vivi and arthur are both such like. ''please let me die for you'' level devoted to their friends. tho they express it v differently #and vivi's like. she's gotta be the strongest and bravest and most powerful because if ANYTHING HURTS THEM SHE WILL FULLY SNAP #...and then obviously implicitly here Something Happened to lewis. which exacerbated the problem #meanwhile arthur is like. no fighting. it's not the time for fighting now is the time to sit down and let me fix you. tell me what you need #-and i'll fucking rearrange reality to get it.#and then they scream at each other about it! normal friends who are normal.

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simmingonthelow · 9 months

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Some of my 1st/2nd/3rd/4th gen sims that I aged up and/or updated in the save I've been playing for 2 years (I think its that amount of time....the point is this is my main save for a long time). This is 27 out of 207 sims! And then there's another version of my simself in the last row (middle). 3 sims included here were made not born.

If you see this why don't you share the save you're currently doing with some of your favourite (or otherwise) born sims. I'm tagging you viewer!

#at this point my norms dont really match uk other norms but what can i say #they were all mixed up by the time i got here #i actually never really play with my simself in in this save but just She's hella nosey #when i tell you there were so many times that I've see sim me around at important parts of other (related) sim's lives #its crazy #the best part of having my simself in here is knowing that we're finally twinning with the hair cause i did my hair two days ago!#so FINALLY I got what I wanted (the hair is smaller and shorter though)#this was actually a speed run through the sims i have cause i mostly play with aging on pause so i haven't been able to add make up/accs to #most of my sim but that'll happen when i actually start playing their household ig #when i tell you its like 50+ but i think i only ever played 5/6 in the two year that i had this save #i'm about to fast track all the lives of the sims rn cause i wanna put my aging back on soon #i guess you could see the connections between some of these sims #i still got 21 sims left to update before I update my game 😭

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oceandiagonale · 1 year

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As I understand it, Guzma is the SURVIVOR of the original Team Skull. Basically an old Kahuna pulled some shit, the original group got smited, and Guzma rebuilt the team but as a haven for kids that had nowhere else to go that he had wished for in his own childhood (those golf clubs wtf Gamefreak).

that's what it totally feels like it's implying, but some of the wording is so ambiguous, I wish we had a clearer picture of everything 😭😭😭

#oceandi answers #kriss-watches-stuff #team skull #the way they say that it came from one of the old kahunas -- when nanu seems to have been kahuna for a while -- really makes it confusing #though I guess that also depends on how old we think nanu is???? his age is pretty unclear he could be anywhere from 35-60 skjdfksjdf #considering how long ago the first UB incident was and looker seeming to be younger than he is and LOOKER looks like.... maybe 30-40?? nanu #is probably solidly 45-50????? maybe????? and from hapu and olivia we know people can become kahunas at a young-to-young-adult age #but on the other hand if he was in interpol back when he was younger and then the UB incident happened and THEN he became kahuna -- or he #was both at the same time/? interpol and kahuna?????? anyways if guz took over directly after the previous kahuna did some shit then nanu #would have become kahuna shortly after and we'd have to base everything around nanu's timeline #man but the wording -- ONE of the old kahunas #it could mean so many things. anyone know what the original japanese lines are?? sometimes the translations add or subtract nuance skdjhfkj

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crimeronan · 6 months

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au Hunter meets canon Amity and is so so so so so conflicted because canon Amity is like “yeah I wasn’t a really good person before I met Luz, I was mean and a terrible friend but now I’m trying to be better every day” so Hunters just like pacing around the room back and forth like “even the other Blight thinks Blight sucks, so she’s my ally and best friend…. But it’s BLIGHT!!! Blight can’t be my best friend!!!”

HELP. i'm trying to picture AU hunter processing the fact that canon amity thinks she's mean. AU hunter is like literally what are you talking about. you are a conflict-free cruelty-free organic wholesome breakfast cereal from a sunshine and rainbows fluff universe. what are you ON

amity: i am NOT. i was SO AWFUL before i met luz in high school and turned my life around!!! i could be that awful again!! ask willow or gus they can tell you. give me my enemy cred i am Not A Nice Person

hunter: dude. you are literally so nice that it's freaking me out. like if this were my universe i would 100% think you were under an enchantment rn. you are not even remotely mean enough to qualify as needing a redemption arc

amity: HMPH. what about other me is so terrible, then????

hunter: ......APPARENTLY just that you didn't meet luz in high school.

amity:

hunter:

amity: Uh-Oh.

#amity seeing 50 dominoes fall like that one meme like ah. i have some guesses about what other me is up to #toh #replies #princess luz au #i think a few months back i said that canon amity would try to reach out to her AU self #and her AU self would be too freaked out and suspicious to absorb a Word of it #and. i stand by that.#amity blight #and who is that other witch

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a-gal-with-taste · 1 year

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Certainties & Mistletoe - Part 2

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable... but the events it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 4946 Words |

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Tags: Slow-burn, humor, banter, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, maid!Reader, some world-building, pining (?!?), denial of feelings/everyone has denial, Scrooge being a grump (shocker), I literally don't know where this is going but gosh is it fun

A/N: Second chapter. Why? Haven't figured it out yet, and also don't know where this is going. Enjoy the ride!

If anything was affixed in reliability in regards to your strange-sort of new-reality, it was the fact that it was difficult to ignore that pesky little sprig.

Not just difficult.

Quite impossible, actually, considering it sat prominent at the corner of the undecorated desk of Mister Ebenezer Scrooge.

A desk currently unoccupied.

The district of Cornhill in its entirety left shaken by the sight of such a man on the prowl, particularly in this season’s time. Pity as it was to wish-upon the innocent the presence of Scrooge, you felt free alone in his business-quarters as you went-about your normal, average routine...

As normal as could be, with the singular reminder of your transgression still sitting upright and full of life, on that small glass of water at the miser’s desk. Right there... right there, out in the open, for all, and especially the Master-himself, to see!

It felt like a mockery. Taunting you, with a memory already half-repressed, forcing it back into the forefront every time you saw the spiky-leaves from the corners of vision, the crimson berries gleaming-still in candlelight...

You half-thought the thing lived-on, refusing to even consider wilting, just out of spite.

Henceforth, why you chose to regard it with an eye full of loathing, and offer a wide-berth around its immediate proximity. A fact that was as ridiculous, as it was entirely unignorable by parties not-privy to your internal conflict.

“Miss?”

You hummed in a way that proved you were listening, despite the venomous staring-match you were engaged-in. With a plant.

“Fairly sure those berries are only poisonous when eaten... they don’t jump out ‘atcha, frankly.”

Ah, Robert - though he swore that Bob was the name written on record - ever the relieving fresh-air in the stifling atmosphere that was Marley and Scrooge. His humor politely-stifled on most days to appease his mentor and employer, the brief freedom allowed between the hours of mid-morning, to five hours past-noon, were well-spent with an easy smile, and a more at-eased attitude.

Usually, it was a well-welcomed attitude.

But the mischief that gleams in bi-colored eyes, that shift from yourself and to the out-of-place sprig, is enough to leave you wary before he even speaks.

“Though I can’t quite decide... whether your loathing comes from its poison, or spikes. Have you pricked yourself, perchance?”

“Were I lacking more wit than I currently possess, perhaps, but I am not-yet that clumsy,” You insist, but there’s a small smile shared from you to him, one that does-away with most of the troubled glint in your eyes. Most.

“Strange, ‘innit?” He hummed in that almost-sweet, disarming way that had earned your gratefulness early-on in your employment. “Thought I’d be a-long into some great beyond before ol’ Ebenezer decided to stock up on decorations.”

It’s spoken all in light joviality - out of respect, seasonal mood of jolly or legitimate amusement at the old man, you weren’t certain - but the second-opinion of the foul little thing does little to ease your mood.

Your eyes slowly trail-back to it, nails digging into the meat of your palms as they tightened into fists.

“I would think the very-same,” You murmur, eventually finding yourself able to turn your back on the desk and what resides there, in order to begin work along the shelves, all under Cratchit’s keen gaze. Keen, very-much curious, and unfortunately, eager for gossip to pass the hours.

“Well then. Have you any idea why he-?”

“Why-what? Who knows why that man does anything he-wills to do?” Too hasty, you knew, not only by how swiftly eyebrows shot-up, nearly touching his hairline.

Honesty would relieve you of some of the worry, you knew.

But it also seemed unbearable. To admit one's misconduct was enough of an embarrassment, but the crime-committed felt so much more severe than a slip in composure or social-graces...

Yet, it only took another lingering stare at the surviving twig of holly, before you wrung the dusting cloth between your fingers, “Mister Cratchit, have you ever done something truly... dreadful?”

No one would ever think a dear such as Bob capable of anything less-than goodness, but the copper-haired lad nodded rather quickly. “Oh, indeed! Rightfully so, my missus never lets me forget it.”

Stunned, breath caught between two-lungs, you asked out in a rush what it was.

“Thirty minutes late, I was, to own second girls’ arrival.” He confessed, a great and sorrowful light entering the eyes of two-shades as he wags his chin mournfully. “Nothing more-dreadful than that, Miss. It’s only out of blessing and that gold-heart of hers, that Kathie has never scorned me for it.”

Your heart sank - not necessarily from the story, though you did pity the family-loving man - but because it wasn’t even remotely-comparable to your own situation, and all the complications that now come with it.

Though, likely being the sole-woman alive who has so-willingly bestowed a kiss upon the lips of Ebenezer Scrooge, there was very-likely none to properly seek confidence-in.

So, physically shaking your thoughts from mind, you turned your inquiry to a subject far-less combustible, and humiliating. “Yet another child I find myself privy to be learning-of. Tell me, Robert, what good have I done to deserve such knowledge?”

“Bob, or Mister Cratchit if-you-please,” He corrected immediately, but with a pleased grin assuring you that no-offense was taken. “Two-years anniversary comes soon, since you’ve strode into this very office. It seemed appropriate.”

“In a way of celebration, I trust?”

“No other way I would speak of your presence here, miss.” The assurance is cut off, as Bob raps his knuckles upon his desk once, twice, with a canine briefly worrying at a chapped-lip before he continues. “That, and... well, you might very well privy to the sight of my children, soon enough. Two of them, to be exact.”

“Oh, Mister Cratchit, surely you don’t desire to host them among the company here.” You certainly had no issue with their attendance, but the office of Scrooge and the late Mister Marley was hardly a place of welcome for children.

“Oh no, they’d be so horribly bored, and Mister Scrooge would likely be-” A darting of eyes, much akin to your own, is paired with a gulp as he lays a gaze upon the somber work-station of the man-himself. “... displeased. But Kathie is of-age to begin work, with a voice as lovely as the Queen’s, I'd say! She might design to come ‘round upon her day, with my little man.”

“A son, too?”

“Tim, man ‘o the house when I'm here, hard at work!” The declaration is spoken with pride, and it’s quite easy to respond with a small smile at the proud-father.

Perhaps it was selfish, but discussion of his life, rather than your own recent actions, was far more welcomed, even as something terribly weary entered his eyes before he continued.

“My... my boy would dowell with walking. Winter has never-quite been a friend with him, and... well. It’s come to the point where the exercise is much-needed, y’see, and I-”

“Mister Cratchit,” You interjected, sympathy in your eyes. “You need-not explain further. Perpetuating your woes with my curiosity was never an intention.” And it was clear, even with a lapse of details, that the situation with the Cratchit’s son was a woe-indeed.

“Right... right!” It was now his turn to shake-himself free of his troubles, which he did with a zeal that left his bright-copper hair to flip over his forehead. “Well, regardless... Miss, ‘ve no-doubt they’ll make the occasional trip! ‘Tis only natural for Cratchits to wish in staying-close, even when hard-at-work, though I can assure you, they’ll keep their business outside!”

“Tis not me you need to assure-this-to, but the caution is appreciated.” And the fact gave you plenty more to mull-over between the repetitiveness of your daily routine, dust collected and shaken-off the dusting-cloth with practiced ease. “Have I time and ability, I can spare a cuppa, warm, for the little-ones.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you-”

“And you haven’t, it’s merely an offer,” The smile you gave back was meant to invite ease, something which the clerk accepted after a moment. “Free-of-charge. Though darenot tell the Master of-that.”

“Heh, right... I shan’t.” A pause, the quiet words of gratitude nearly-silent, but no-less sincere. Again, pleasantries were a rarity in such-offices... three-years gone by, and still Cratchit was slow to get-used to them in your presence.

Keeping to normalcy. A lifestyle you thought mastered, and now something you missed bitterly, as your routine now seemed to revolve around... it, at his desk.

Foolish, it very-much was, but nonetheless, your steps naturally merged upon a new-path as you went about your duties - a bit quicker than normal, after the pauses taken during your conversing with the clerk - and kept ensuring you made as little visual-contact as possible with the sprig of your ire, the reason for that writhing cluster of uncertainty gathering inside you.

Why keep it?

And, more significantly, why display it? As some sort of warning? Perchance it was a form of mockery, a private joke of which only one gains twisted-humor from...

But was there humor to be had? From yourself, certainly-not, but recollection reminds you swiftly of the man’s own reaction to the incident...

Averted eyes - surely out of the morbid embarrassment of the unprompted action.

Rapid, repeated clearing of the throat - solely for discomfort, you dreaded what occurred whenever the gentleman fell-ill, and what that entailed for you to do.

Your concern of some ailment only increased at the memory of reddened-cheeks - an occurrence that had twice been a happenstance. The prior evening upon your departure, and just this morning, upon your return.

With a sigh as you shuffled the books back unto their place on a cleaned-shelf, you resolved to detour from home to speak with a physician, speak on behalf of his welfare. A second-opinion... was it not what was desired in the first place, except for another scenario entirely?

You supposed you had to take victory elsewhere. If you could not succeed in unraveling the frazzled, mangled remnants of your good-sense, at least ensuring your employer was not catching-cold, was an acceptable alternate achievement in defeat of another.

That is, of course, what you tried to convince yourself. You feared you didn’t succeed much there either.

Speaking of the man, the clock struck the fifth-hour of past-noon.

By the second-ring announcing the time, you were dusting yourself to an acceptable greeting-condition - picking-up the pace as you passed the desk, and its topside contents you so-loathed.

The third and fourth tolling of bells both near-and-far finding yourself positioned, as always, by the front-door to brace to take hat & coat. Arms extended slightly, expectantly enough that your eyes slipped-closed as you sighed, bracing for the temporary flurry that would be let-in. From the season’s snow, and Mister Scrooge's return.

The twelfth-toll.

The minute-hand passed the twelfth-rung entirely, marching onward to time forever and ever... and the front door did not open.

Understandable. It had slushed more than it had snowed the night previously, making the banks of snow less-pleasant to traverse through by oneself... doubly so, for Prudence would not make traveling conditions any-easier, despite the companionship she provided.

Allowing this consideration, a moment passed without fanfare. A second moment, another... but by the forth, you began to peer at the doorway rather perplexed, a frown gathering on your lips as you squinted out the port-window of the entryway, stretching upon your toes, and still catching no-sight of your employer.

A flicker of... something, unpleasant, crossed your mind.

“Robert-”

“Bob, miss.”

“-Mister Cratchit. Master Scrooge is late.”

“Oh no.” Less of alarm, more of polite-dismissal, the clerk raised his ruddy-nose high-enough over his freshly-inked book to squint-down the corridor to the back-offices, the grand clock sitting proudly at the back. “Hardly even five-after... five minutes after, miss! Hardly a wink in time."

You shook your head, glancing between the unopened door and clock. "Mayhaps, but this is Mister Scrooge we speak off. A man who considers ‘time to-be a finite resource to be transacted sparsely, to avoid its waste.’"

After nearly two-years, Ebenezer Scrooge was nothing, if-not predictable when it comes to stifling-speeches of practicality. You liked to think you did a well-enough mimic of voice and posture too, but the humor is lost quickly when six minutes pass.

A seventh. “He surely hasn’t gotten into an argument of some sort.”

“Mister Scrooge is rather, erm, efficient with those, miss. Doesn’t much-like getting caught up in one such as those.” An eighth, flirting close with the tenth-past the hour.

But Cratchit’s words were true enough; it was quite-possible that the man was among the most stubborn of humankind, the kind to be set-firm as stone, plowing through as efficiently and steadfastly solid as marble.

Which was why you started to pace at the entrance, when the minute-hand reached the first ten-moments of the hour. Sitting at the windowside, two-minutes later, with that cluster of troubled-nerves within you building and building, to the point you feared a combustion would take-place.

The avoidance should have been welcomed.

Extra-time, even only the length of only a quarter-hour, was something you would normally see as a blessing and something to be welcomed wholeheartedly, entirely, and without any questioning as to the why.

But then you glance at the almost-empty desk, your eyes catching-sight of what exactly made the desk only almost empty.

The sprig of holly doesn't seem as much like a physical taunt, at this moment.

It's motivation.

One you find yourself taking subconsciously, as you rise from your waiting-seat at the windowside, and march over to the coat-rack. With your bonnet shoved over your hair as you tug on your coat, the voice of the bystanding clerk is enough to cut through the fog of your swirling-thoughts, "Leaving sooner than normal? No emergency, I hope?"

"Only the emergency of a search. I worry the worst, Mister Cratchit."

A slow blink, and lowered quill as the man frowned. "For Mister Scrooge? Surely not... yes, it's not-normal that he's absent for so-long, but I'm certain he's right-as-rain-"

"And if he's not?" You demanded, fingers a flurry over the buttons as you bundle yourself up to prep for the outside-chill. "Slicked-cobble is a nightmare, even for a man with a cane. Especially so, mayhaps, and God-knows there's few willing to help him if he's slipped or fallen."

Most would probably laugh, though you-yourself find little-humor in the thought.

"Oh, come now, miss, someone would fetch the doctor, surely! Imagined we would hear Prudence half-the-city away if something befall the fellow, besides-"

"I'm quite certain of it, but I need to be sure!" You insisted, tugging your gloves into place as you turned towards the door, turning to Cratchit in the midst of your strides. "I... I only wish to ensure all is well. If such-is, I'll be back only momentarily-"

The sharp, sudden gust of pure ice to your cheeks was only barely-registered, in time with the modestly-sized office building shaking from the force of the door flung open.

You had very-little time to register these two-sensations.

Even less time, to slow-down enough to prevent the collision, of you striding-out, and your fashionably-late employer marching-in.

Rather spectacularly, soundly colliding against his chest, your hands are coming up too-late to cushion the blow, and curl on his vest. It's only thanks to the sudden-rigidity in your body that you don't stumble-along with the gentleman as he staggers, winded from the blow, and you-yourself are able to keep upright.

Though, your legs feel slightly-weakened at the sharp, flabbergasted inhale that you feel, more than hear.

Another-breath is felt beneath your cheek, after the man finds his center-of-gravity once more, and after the faint deflating of his chest at sharp-exhalation, Prudence slices through the stifling fog of the incident with an excited bark at your feet.

Hands curled tighter, before you push yourself off his chest with chin still tucked-low towards your own. "I-I... You... I apologize, but you were running quite-late."

A poor, poor excuse. And hardly an apology, something Ebenezer Scrooge sincerely agrees with, as evident by his scoff.

"A typical occurrence, miss, when one requires a detour from average paths."

"Well... yes, but I had-fear that you slipped, the cobbles are quite-slick this evening-"

"My relation with gravity is of such grand-importance to you? Humorous, considering you nearly made me fall-"

"You only did just the same, Mister Scrooge! An accident of equal blame, you can hardly push responsibility solely onto...." You trailed off, a bit lamely, as your gaze has raised in response to man.

Pompous and sneering as his words are, you quickly take notice that Ebenezer has held himself in such a way that can only be described-best as stiff... he also refuses to look at you directly, line of sight barely-skimming over your brows.

The non-whiskered skin of his cheeks still host some redness from his exposure to frost, even if the door has already swung-closed behind him. Excessively so, as the flushed-hue upon his skin extends from face, down to neck, peeking upon his ears from beneath his hat...

And...

He's also holding a fresh sprig of holly in a gloved-hand, newer than even the one hosted at his desk. Fist clenched tight about it, as if his body was subconsciously, fiercely opinionated on its existence.

You cannot yet-tell what that opinion might be.

"What... what is that?"

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