#he was a kid's imaginary friend. that was the idea behind his creation. he was a help and a comfort
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Axel Scarecrow has had a bit of a rough time of it
#father of peace...#I am holding him so tenderly#Clown World Lore#Axel the fabric clown#of all the clowns in the military troupe Axel is probably the most similar to Rudy. he was made for kids.#he was a kid's imaginary friend. that was the idea behind his creation. he was a help and a comfort
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the neurodivergent nightmare: RUBY SPARKS (2012)
TW! mention of abuse
,,have you seen my other shoe? i`m always losing things“ -ruby
after 10 years i found my way back to ruby sparks, written by lead actress zoe kazan.
this movie placed itself in my subconscious and didn’t fail to remind me of it every 5 years in very cryptic ways. i start remembering a tenseness, hiding behind a glowy haze, maybe even milliseconds of a scene. but rarely enough for me to jump in the euphoria of remembering something u tried hard not to forget.
that changed yesterday.
while watching a youtube video from maia c. ,,how the Manic Pixie Dream Girl romanticizes mental illness, quirky or autistic?``, the background visuals showed zoe kazan in the role of ruby. i instantly felt the familiar tenseness but also a wave of glowy, hazy memories of this movie. as it turns out i really loved it as a kid and watched it multiple times.
that i couldn’t quite comprehend everything, shouldn’t be a surprise for everyone who knows this film already.
youtube
,,why do you look at me like that?´´-ruby
summary:
calvin is 29 years old and a famous writer with his first bestseller gaining popularity when he was only 19 years old.
you can tell that he feels disconnected, even though he attends therapy sessions regularly.
he doesn’t really speak about his internal world neither intellectually or emotionally, he just exists in his luxurious but sparsely decorated home with his dog scotty. but not even scotty gained the role of calvin’s best friend. nobody has.
isolated and alone, calvin also lacks the creativity to start writing again, until he one night randomly starts dreaming about a mysterious but intriguing women. this sparks (lol) a creative flow and he starts writing her into existence night and day, literally.
the imaginary women, ruby sparks, one morning stands in calvin’s house, fully realized and whole.
this twist of events scares calvin and he freaks out but starts realizing that ruby now isn’t only a product of his imagination.
she is a sentient human being. he falls in love, hard.
calvin experiences emotions in ways he cant really comprehend, but he is happy. they are happy.
until ruby´s antics and quirks start to hinder calvin’s day to day life. he gets annoyed by her singing uncontrollably, by her joy over small things. he gets annoyed by the traits that he doesn’t share with her up until the point where ruby was ready to leave.
and even though calvin told his brother, after ruby’s appearance that he will never write about her again, he does and changes her. again and again, until he realizes that she isn’t herself anymore, which he also doesn’t like.
so he changes her back to default ruby but therefore, all their struggles come back with the original version of her.
calvin is disconnected from his own creation, even though he can change everything about her. this sends him spiraling in the last big fight they get in. this results in him showing ruby the manuscript that ´´birthed``her.
ruby is in absolut distress the whole fight but also can’t believe what calvin is telling her so he starts writing in her presence.
he makes her unable to leave the room, talk french, act like a dog, sing and strip for him until she is made to tell him that he is a genius while uncontrollably jumping up and down. it seems like calvin snaps and makes her tell him that she loves him and will never leave , while banging on the wall,sobbing. he makes her stop. she falls exhausted to the ground, panting.
as he tries to touch her she runs into another room and locks herself in.
calvin sits back down and starts completing the story of ruby sparks.-
,,as soon as ruby left the house, the past released her. she was no longer calvin’s creation. from that moment on, only ruby could determine the course of her life. she was free.´
´-calvin
this sadly isn’t the end of the movie, but i wont talk about it right now. such quirk and fun🤡
pt.1: the idea
i liked this movie a lot when i was a child, as previously mentioned. so after regaining memory of this film and hectically looking for a website where i can stream it, i was in utter shock when it came to an end.
the idea of creating something/someone out of your brain is truly fascinating, and it always was to me. my brain is a chaotic place filled with characters, memory’s and things that could never be and that always was my reality. nobody could ever relate to my experiences and what went on in my brain, and it was the same way around. the only thing i could relate to with neurotypicals was and is, trauma. it has been lonely, but never really hindert me in trying anyway. mostly because i didn’t know about my neurodiversity until my 21 year of life.
still, media that depicted neurodiveristy always had a special place in my heart, and know i understand why. just like this movie. but i would never recommend anyone watching it without knowing what is actually going on, which is fucking hard because nobody on set knew themselves.
that’s why i have tumblr now for the first time. that’s why im here. so lets get fucking stared!
pt.2: the behind the scenes
,,how do you know he’s one of the greatest novelists who ever lived? have you read every novel ever written?´´-ruby
the problem is very easy to find, but probably because we neurodiverse peeps are pretty good problem solvers. we know how to view things rationally and solve them. because most things are pretty simple if you look at them rationally, but everybody struggles with this of course. but neurotypicals struggle with it way more. we on the contrary lean to struggle with the many emotional aspects a nt´s brain uses to get to their own conclusion.
because i know this, i can understand how this movie came to be. even though its pretty fucking insane to me still.
so, now that we found each other here, im going to start with a few comments from zoe kazan herself.
she tells us in an casual interview on the searchlight pictures youtube channel from 10 years ago (and i´m paraphrasing here):
that the trope of the manic pixie dream girl is just the idea of a girl and nothing more. a idea of someone can’t be real. that’s why she tells the interviewer that she thinks its a demeaning way to characterize ruby, because she is a fully fleshed role. she in generell critiques the MPDG but not in this film.
in an interview on the rotten tomatoes coming soon youtube channel, she told the interviewer (paraphrasing again):
zoe wanted to tell the dangers of having an idea of a person and holding them to that. that reducing someone like that is an own form of violence.
all of this is true, sadly. you can see these narratives in the movie. still, im telling you not watch it. why?
it’s insensitive and fucking clueless.
zoe tells us that ruby is a fully fleshed character, which is true. i actually really saw myself in her. i know the highs and lows of being different, and ruby did too. but that’s all she was, different. even though her difference was a clear depiction of autism.
pt.3: the problem
,, That’s a lot of pressure.´´-ruby
the problem with this is so apparent. at least it should be. but it clearly wasn’t.
ruby sparks could have been the perfect metaphor for the abuse of neurodiverse women in relationships. im not sure if this is a surprise for you.
calvin is a fucking villain.
i dont want to be insensitive. i know that this could be seen as polarising, if anybody cares or even finds this.
as a fellow autistic its hard for me not to think in black and white, because nearly everything could be that simple if people just were honest with each other and themselves.
and i think, if we really going to be honest here (which im almost always), we can say that categorizing this movie as comedy and romance is fucking twistet.
i never remembered this movie as being funny or romantic. it was ominous and still is. u are watching the creation and breaking of a neurodiverse women and its heartbreaking.
calvin is 29 years old, white, abled bodied, cis men and comes from a wealthy background. he accumulated wealth of his own in the past 10 years. he is in therapy. he even has a dog. calvin has everything right at his fingertips. but he isn’t happy. he carry’s himself like a wet grey sock. no hobby’s. no happiness. also a dead dad but we never really explore if he was close to him, he isn’t really close to his mom neither.
this is our protagonist. a basic bitch. there is no way i could feel bad for him. everything he could need to change his life or at least his outlook on it are already a part of his life. of course he is afraid of people just wanting to be with him because of his fame but he never even takes the leap. i understand social distress and and how scary it is to meet new people. i mean duh. but i can’t really change anything about it. he could, but won’t. he lurks in the shadow of his own success and isolates himself, but keeps feeling miserable. calvin all in all is a pathetic excuse of a human and the reason why i don’t like men.
then we have ruby. a spunky artist that is confident in herself and her abilities. a person that would rather risk sounding crazy then silencing herself. she sings and dances and just radiates live when she is happy. she is unapologetically herself. wearing a bright red dress with purple tights and green shoes. who wants to and convince me ruby is a neurotypical hmm? nobody could. but she also feels the pressure of calvin relying on her to keep him happy. she can define that her melancholy stems from her being lonely, from her not being able to do what she loves.
zoe is right when she tells us ruby is a full human even though she was the miracle in this film. calvin was just the idea of a depressed intellectual that can’t find connection in the regular, in the unspectacular. that’s why ruby was so different. so that she could carry him on her cloud of special.
and even though zoe herself said that reducing people is violent, why didn’t calvin suffer like ruby? calvin just regularly got critiqued for his lone wolf attitude.
calvin just was in the privileged position to shrug it off because he believed that he was smart enough to realize his flaws if he had them. in his eyes all his problem stemmed from not being in a relationship. but then when he was in one with ruby, all his flaws lead to them being incompatible because he wouldn’t recognize them. so he found all the flaws in ruby just being different.
i hope everybody can get on what im critiquing here.
calvin, the creator, was even less of a character than the one he literally wrote into existence. he created a person that was in her way of creating a fulfilled live and as soon as he realized that she didn´t need him for it, he got scared. and isn’t that just pathetic? he couldn’t keep up so he changed her and made her miserable.
but the clinging, her being emotional and dependent on him, was too much. so he changed her again…..
so now….. how do we feel seeing a perfectly fine character getting changed in their core because their partner isn’t satisfied…. what does that sound like to you ?
pt.4:the end
,,have you read it?´´-ruby
- calvin releases a new book about his incredible experience with ruby. she now is gone and he hopes that she won’t read it. the only thing that she took with her after the fight, except her own clothes was a ´i love you´ note he had left for her.
in the end calvin goes on a walk with scotty and they meet ruby, laying on a blanket in a park.
reading his new book. she does not remember him even though she feels a familiarity. they start talking and the movie ends with ruby and calving looking each other lovingly in the eyes.
WTF!!!! when i tell you that my heart dropped. i sincerely hoped until this last part that the genre listing for this movie was just wrong. but it really was meant to be a romcom , and i literally felt sick to my stomach.
he got a happy ending. why??
my immediate thought was : ,,why in hell, was it ruby?? couldn’t it just have been some random new woman??´´
just imagine, he meets a new woman. this could be such a good way of showing that he in the end still had a great enough time with no big need of recovery. you see calvin crying only on the night ruby left. than he starts writing, running, cooking. its like he himself starts a new life and works on his flaws.
mind you, after he broke ruby.
what does that tell us? ruby got emotionally abused out by this person, just so that he can transition into an adult that’s MAYBE more in touch with his emotions. for the first time at 29. and stills gets the girl. again.
and the way that the absolutely traumatizing scene where calvin made ruby do what he wanted, never got spoken of again. as if a men making a women do absolutely everything he wants while she clearly does not want to do it. bending and breaking into the molds that he creates for her isn’t fucking scary, should never happen. still, i relate to that. this kind of abuse happened to me.
i was 15 years old and my boyfriend of the time who always has been 2 years older , manipulated me right from the start so i could be whatever he wanted me to be. for 1 1/2 years. this was 2016 and i didnt realize until 2021.
i got tought that i have to be exactly the way everyone wants me to be. so did ruby. they can tell that u wont leave, they can tell that you would do everything to do your one big love right. ruby didn’t had another choice, but neither did i. because nobody ever told me. i had to crack, bend and break more than ones in this relationship before just being so done that you have no other option then leave. but ruby never really did. she still owns that note even though she doesn’t have all the memory’s.
i don´t have all the memory’s, i don’t want them but i will forever know that in this time of my young life, i was used miserable. and maybe its good that ruby does not remember, but he does. and he still longs for her to kiss him again. maybe my abuser also longs for me, the perfect girlfriend, to be back in his life. but thankfully we are not the protagonists of this severely and sadly misguided movie.
in the end calvin gets a happy end with the literal girl of his dreams, even though he is the only one remembering every detail, it wasn’t his trauma. and that makes him the winner either way…
did you like it?-ruby and me
#Youtube#actuallyautistic#autism#autistic#movie review#ruby sparks#neurodiverse nightmare#neurodivergent#its the neurodivergency#special interest#essay#movie essay#commentary#hyperfixation#writing#deep dive
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I just got into king;s avatar, do you have any good fics to rec? anything with ye xiu in it would be awesome.
I can rec you some of my favs! A few have ships but most are gen or just the usual AllYe vibe.
A Documentary by Kisalot
Su Muqiu was always convinced that Lord Grim and the Myriad Manifestations Umbrella would one day become the best creation in Glory history. He wanted to document everything in preparation for that day they became a legend.
After retiring from Happy, Ye Xiu finishes it and posts it on Weibo.
For you, my old friend. With this, our dreams have been made complete.
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The Story of the Mary Sue Character the Excellent Era Captain Made Up and Ships Himself With by Kisalot (Su Muqiu/Ye Xiu)
The story of regressor Su Muqiu missing his best friend who still hasn't appeared yet, recreating his One Autumn Leaf first server legend for him, and telling everyone stories about his star-crossed soulmate-bff of a past life.
And the story of how most everyone thinks Ye Xiu is his imaginary crush or chuunibyou delusion for many seasons until the man himself appears and causes chaos on Weibo and in the pro circle. And maybe makes everyone think that he's their dream come to life too.
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Completely Self-Indulgent by SudeniShindeIru
As Ye Xiu is going through a hard time because of Excellent Era, he receives a call that Ye Qiu had gotten into a car accident and fell into a coma, leaving his two kids behind. Ye Xiu retires to return home and take care of Ye Qiu's illegitimate kids, and as he does so, he begins to heal and enjoy things he once never thought he could enjoy before as well as the things he once thought he had, but now was beginning to fall in love with all over again.
tldr: Ye family reconciliation and fluff, Ye Xiu being a dad, Ye Xiu going to All Stars and later rejoining the Pro League, and Pro player chats and shenanigans
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It Starts with a Dream by Autumn_Rain
In a collaboration with Make-a-Wish Foundation, the Glory Professional Alliance hosts an event in Shanghai so that the children could meet their idols and heroes. It was a normal publicity stunt and charity event until it stopped being one. Trust Ye Xiu to always derail the Alliance's plans, but this time no one could blame him, or Han Wenqing, for that matter.
Who would expect them to be so good with kids?
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Awaiting Your Reply by Autumn_Rain
From the start, Ye Xiu has never cared for reputation or fan opinions. But even if Ye Xiu disappears from the public eye, 'Ye Qiu' still continues to exist in the eyes of the fans, and no amount of evasion can change how powerful and damaging a public image can be.
When Su Mucheng realizes just how much tension lies simmering beneath Excellent Era's surface, she decides to fight a war before the first shot is even fired and sets out as Ye Xiu's unofficial PR manager to make him the nation's darling.
The end results are quite unexpected.
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Brother is on the case by Silvera_M
No one is allowed to mess with his brother. No one. And Ye Qiu will make sure to punish any idiot who even attempts. (Ye Qiu finds out what is happening. He is not pleased. And people suffer.)
(Set during season 7)
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in carnage i bloom (like a flower in the dawn) by paradisetrain
Excellent Era is counting on Ye Xiu’s lack of social media presence to make the Glory fans forget him. Ye Xiu had always avoided social media, and for a reason. But Mucheng has this wonderful idea - he can have socials and not expose his true identity at the same time.
Ye Xiu had never played Glory for the fans, but it sure is more fun with them.
The following contains the events of QZGS/TKA from the perspective of the official Ye Qiu Weibo. It’s cryptic. It’s confusing. It’s infuriating for pros and fans alike.
Honestly, did you expect anything less?
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Baozi was a bouncer by Ourliazo
Ye Xiu keeps getting into trouble. Thankfully, Baozi was a bouncer for his last job.
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Piercing Gold by ShootMeDead
Ye Xiu left behind in Excellent Era a piece of himself. As he walked in the streets, the hollow space within him burned with a frozen fire, colder than the weather, colder than dry ice.
Sun Xiang wondered, for just a moment, if Ye Qiu had broken the account card out of spite.
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less drowning, more land by jenwryn (Wei Chen/Ye Xiu)
Wei Chen sometimes feels like he's parenting the team right alongside Ye Xiu: all of the work of being-married-with-kids, but none of the bedroom perks.
Or, the one where Team Happy holidays on a beach in northern Australia, and Wei Chen finally ends his dry streak.
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At Home (With You) by TheDefenestrator (Wang Jiexi/Ye Xiu)
Soulmates spend their lives together, learning preferences and circumstances from shared snacks and tiny mementos, never farther from reach than an object passed across a table.
By the time they meet in person, they'll know exactly what it is their partner is looking for.
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Quest Fulfilled by Invidia_Envy
In a meet and greet event, Ye Xiu is forced to hang around despite not joining the event at all. Whilst loitering around, Ye Xiu met a fanboy and made an unlikely friendship with the kid. Accident happened and the boy can't join the meet and greet, Ye Xiu decided to take his place.
The pros are all speechless, why is Ye Qiu lining up in Tyranny's booth?
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Safeguard by Invidia_Envy (Han Wenqing/Ye Xiu)
Since he was young, Ye Xiu was always used to watch out when he crossed the road. His parents had nailed it to his head to always look left and right when crossing the road and always make sure to hold Ye Qiu’s hand while at it.
So it became a habit. Holding Ye Qiu's hand, holding Su Mucheng's hand. Until one day he held someone else's hand while being absentminded.
“Sorry, Old Han, I didn’t realize it was you.”
“No worries.”
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telltale heart, beating like a drum by Synoshian (Ye Xiu/Yu Wenzhou)
Smiling eyes regarded him. “Don’t you think we’re moving too slow?”
“No,” Ye Xiu replied, “but you would know, I guess.”
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World Champions by TheDefenestrator
At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up.
Or,
In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.
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Anniversary Picnic (Keanu Reeves x Reader)
Summary: You and your husband Keanu share a romantic anniversary picnic.
Warnings: mostly fluff, but it gets a little smutty towards the end, also conversation about having a kid (not sure if this should be a warning though).
Words: 1,7 K
A/N: This was definitely inspired by Destination Wedding, though Frank seemed too grumpy for this and I decided to go with Keanu instead. Also, for everyone quarantined right now, have fun on this imaginary picnic.
“Here we are,” Keanu exclaims cheerfully, parking his car on a hill in a middle of nowhere. Today, it is your wedding anniversary, and every year he has a little surprise for you. It is something that you really appreciate, because instead of buying random expensive gifts, he always takes his time to organize something fun.
You are a little puzzled viewing around, “Is this your surprise? Are you going to murder me here and feed my body to the mountain lions?” you giggle, seeing only empty fields, which actually remind you of a deserted vineyard.
“Common, let’s go, you’ll enjoy this,” Keanu urges as he leans in to kiss you, but you are quite hesitant at first; fortunately, he is quick to take a picnic basket out of the trunk, and food is definitely an incentive to get out of the car.
“Be careful,” Keanu takes your hand as you are walking down the hill, he is leading the way and you have no choice, but to follow him. Luckily, you are wearing a linen apron dress together with comfortable flats, which turns out to be an appropriate outfit for your unexpected romantic hike. The sun is blazing and the only thing you regret not taking is a pair of sunglasses, as it is getting harder to see the path, so you keep stumbling on roots that are sticking out of the ground.
Keanu notices that you’re struggling, he slows down a little and turns around handing you a picnic basket. You are a little confused grasping it, when suddenly, you feel one of his arms by the back of your knees, another giving support to your shoulders and, just like that, you are up in the air. Keanu is squeezing you tightly, giving you a playful smirk, and then kissing your temple.
“Ke, slow down, I don’t think this is a good idea, we’re both going to roll down this hill,” you chuckle smacking Keanu’s chest, but he seems to be persistent with this idea of his.
“Don’t worry, honey, we’re almost there,” he nods insistently, and you submit, comfortably positioning the basket on top of your stomach.
You close your eyes to rest them a little, enjoying soothing rocking created by his rhythmical steps and the feeling of mellow warmth lingering on your cheeks, causing you to slowly drift away in his embrace. Time has disappeared in your mind, and at this point you can’t tell if it has been a minute or ten of Keanu carrying you, but eventually, he gives your forehead a wake-up kiss and you open your eyes to see him admiring you.
Keanu gently lays you down on a blanket, which surprisingly has already been stretched on the grass, taking the basket off your belly, and you look around in awe, realizing that everything has been prepared beforehand. It is a cozy place on a bank of a river, and you feel yourself sinking into soft pillows, having your face sheltered in a shade of a tree, savoring a delightful breeze brushing your cheeks.
Keanu slowly crawls on top of you, kissing your lips affectionately, “Y/N,” he looks at you, “I love you so much, you can’t even imagine,” his palm is gently stroking your shoulder, as he leans in to kiss you again.
“I love you too, Ke,” you whisper, pulling closer to squeeze him tightly, leaving his face buried deep in your chest. Happiness is filling your veins as you feel his breath tickling your skin, his hands wrapping around your waist, and the woodsy smell of his hair teasing your nose.
“So, what’s on the menu?” you chuckle, and Keanu turns over reaching for the picnic basket, presenting every dish as if he was an actual chef taking pride in his creations.
“For starters, you can choose between tortilla chips with scallion dip and apricot-prosciutto focaccia” he grins, “Then, I can offer crab rolls together with Greek salad, and for the dessert, pecan pie, your favorite of course”, you both can’t contain your laughter and you approach a packet of chips as he is taking out cups to pour some lemonade.
“How did you arrange all of this to be prepared in advance, the pillows and everything?” you wonder as you keep on dipping chips, looking around in awe.
Keanu giggles, “A magician never reveals his secrets, honey,” and he reaches to hug your sidewards, nuzzling your ear.
“No, but seriously, Ke?” you insist, sipping your drink.
“Okay, okay… I had a movie set here last summer and people living on the other side of the hill, whom I’ve made friends with, were nice to help me with this, that’s my secret,” he tumbles you down, attacking the crook of your neck with ticklish kisses. You try to escape him, but that is a lost cause, so you just give in.
“Happy anniversary,” you tilt your head to smooch him, brushing his stubble with your fingers.
“Every day is happy, when I’m with you,” Keanu smirks, realizing how cheesy that was.
After romping like two naughty little kids for a while, you calm down a little. You nestle on top of Keanu’s chest, staring into the flow of the river. He is stroking your locks, twirling them in his fingers, while another of his palm is slowly reaching to reside on your breast, fondling it lazily, slipping in and out of your bra.
At this point, you start to realize that he keeps on gasping, as if he wants to say something, but can’t force himself to. Crazy thoughts are running through your head, though you are pretty sure he wouldn’t have brought you here on your anniversary to announce bad news, and something like proposing is also out of picture since you have been married for six years, so you keep on wondering what it is.
Eventually, Keanu slowly sits up and turns to you breaking the silence, “How is it possible that you’ve never been on a picnic before?” He leans closer stroking your half covered thigh, slowly going up and down, making you shiver every time he reaches a little higher than before.
“I guess I’ve just never had anyone to go with,” you gush, feeling his fingers tickling you in the right places, giving him a sign, to keep on working his magic.
“Not even with your family?” he frowns, “Like when you were a kid?”
“Well we weren’t this kind of family that would go on picnics, you know, only compulsory events like Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving…” you sigh shaking your head, rising to rest on your elbows and Keanu gives a compassionate smile.
“Then let’s see how you like it today and maybe we can make this a thing our family could do,” Keanu stalls his hand, letting it rest on your knee and stares into your eyes, waiting for you to respond.
Now, Keanu’s behavior is beginning to make sense and you can feel where this is going. Realizing what has been bothering your man, you try to help him a little by opening a conversation that you are about to have, “You mean just the two of us or…,” intentionally leaving it for him to add in.
“The more the merrier, they say,” Keanu chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek amorously.
The last time you talked about having kids was three years ago, when you decided that it wasn’t the right time, and both of you wanted to wait a little longer. Now, the timing seems perfect, as he is about to finish his project, and you have a well-established career, which is possible to put on hold.
You sit up silently gathering your thoughts, making a longer pause and Keanu anxiously stutters, “Honey?” as he is nervously grabbing your shoulder, “I’m so sorry, I’m not pushing if you’re not ready.”
“Ke, relax, I really want to,” you come closer to wrap yourself around him. Your lips are brushing his ear, “I think we should start trying, it’s about time.”
Keanu looks astonished, yet thrilled, and he may have taken your words too literally, as you begin to feel his hand sinking under your dress, worrying he might want to knock you up right here, on this blanket near the river.
“What are you doing, Ke?” a squeak leaves your throat, as you feel his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, spreading your folds with eagerness. You try to pull yourself together, to tell him no. After all, this is sort of a public place, you’ve seen a few people wandering around and the last thing you need, are paparazzi shots of you sharing intimate moments turning up on TMZ. But why is this so hard to resist…?
“Oh honey, you’re all soaked”, Keanu grabs your hip and pulls you closer. His fingers rubbing circles, spreading wetness all over your heat, and his lips buried in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of sizzling kisses.
Involuntarily, you haul him even closer, feeling your folds plumping and throbbing with all the blood rushing down there. You know this is so wrong, and you do your best trying to talk some sense into him “Ke, this is too risky, anyone could see us,” you groan, “I don’t even think that’s legal, baby,” moans leave your mouth as you keep fighting yourself, but he is spreading you so well, and your hand gradually wanders to meet his growing bulge, pulsating in his pants.
“I’m pretty sure we’ve done worse things,” Keanu glares, teasing your entrance with his middle finger, yet not sure if he is allowed to go in.
Luckily, you get your act together, stopping his hand, “Yeah, but if we’re going to have a baby, we have to be responsible adults. We can start practicing now,” you smirk, pulling your dress down and crossing your legs.
It appears to have woken Keanu’s enthusiasm even more and he pulls your hair to the side, nuzzling your ear, “Then I’m responsibly taking you home, so that we can finish what we’ve started.”
“A car will do just fine,” you reply with a wink, stretching your hand for him to help you up.
---> After the Picnic (smut)
#keanu reeves#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves fanfic#keanu reeves fluff#keanu reeves x you#keanu reeves fic#keanu reeves fanfiction#destination wedding#fluff#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#picnic#imagine#keanu reeves imagine#oneshot#keanu reeves oneshot#keanu reeves drabble
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Stars Dance
Ch. 16: The Imaginary Fairy Tale Man
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: 11th Doctor x Original Female Character
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Chapter summary: Big Bang Two is coming! The Doctor’s plans will hopefully restore the world and give Avalon and Amy their rightful lives back but before that, of course, Avalon remembers what else she’s forgotten.
(Previous chapters)
Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)
Amelia Pond was knelt down on the side of her bed, praying just like she tended to do every night as of late. "Dear Santa, thank you for the dolls and pencils and the fish. It's Easter now, so I hope I didn't wake you. But honest, it is an emergency. There's a crack in my wall..." she opened one eye to look at the crack on her bedroom wall. Even just looking at it gave her a tingle on her back, a scary tingle. "Aunt Sharon says it's just an ordinary crack, but... I know it's not-"
"-cos it's not," another voice cut into Amelia's prayer. "There's voices on the other side. So, it's not a regular crack."
Amelia opened both her eyes to look at her friend, Avalon Reynolds, sitting on her bed and brushing a Barbie doll's hair. "Then how come you don't back me up when I tell aunt Sharon?"
Avalon put the Barbie doll down and looked at the crack. She tilted her head at it, letting her curly ginger locks fall to one side. "Because we're just kids. No one is going to believe that the crack isn't normal. My parents don't."
"But you're their little girl," Amelia insisted, "The only girl they've got, only child. Maybe if you kept insisting," Amelia sighed.
"They think it's another story," Avalon returned her attention to her Barbie. She didn't bother about the crack anymore because every time she brought it up, her parents told her to leave it alone. A stupid crack wasn't worth the lectures about keeping a low profile and it definitely wasn't worth the time-outs. So what if there were voices behind the crack - they weren't getting out anyways.
The sound of a gushing wind interrupted little Avalon's thoughts and made both girls hurry to the window. They looked out to the garden and saw nothing outside.
Amelia looked up at the moon in the sky and frowned. "Do you ever feel like something's missing up there?" she asked.
"Dunno," Avalon shrugged, looking up to the empty sky. Only the moon was there to illuminate the darkness. "I think there needs to be stars up there. Like the Star cults. Something is missing and barely anyone realizes it," she moved back to Amelia's bed and resumed brushing the Barbie doll's hair.
Amelia looked between the empty sky and Avalon, more inclined to believe her friend than anyone else as Avalon always had a knack for saying the right things when no one else could.
But then again, everyone also thought Avalon just made stories up a lot. She liked fairy tales, so maybe the stars were part of her fantasy worlds.
~ 0 ~
A couple days later, Amelia was once again forced to see a psychiatrist due to her belief in stars. Her aunt Sharon had, had enough and called in the woman, Christine, to try and get some sense into Amelia.
Right now, Christine was studying a painting Amelia had made of the night sky, "It's a lovely painting, Amelia. And what are all these?" she pointed at the yellow stars on Amelia's painting.
"Stars," Amelia shrugged.
Her aunt Sharon, who sat beside Christine, bowed her head with a deep sigh, "Oh, Amelia!"
Christine made a motion with her hand for Sharon to calm, "Tell you what, shall we go outside?" she suggested to them.
The two adult women brought Amelia to the backyard where they made her look up at the sky.
"What do you see, Amelia?" Christine asked her.
"The moon," she saw the big, bright gray moon lighting up the dark sky.
"And what else?"
"Just the dark."
"But no stars," Christine made sure to emphasize that, "If there were stars up there, we'd be able to see them, wouldn't we? Amelia, look at me," she turned Amelia to face her, "You know this is all just a story, don't you? You know there's no such thing as stars."
"But my friend Avalon says it could be!" Amelia shook her head and went inside the house, irritated that no one understood her like Avalon did.
After being sent to bed, Amelia laid on her bed and listened to her aunt and Christine talking about her 'issue'. Amelia got out of bed and made her way to the staircase, staying just at the top where she could hear the adults talking clearer.
"It's quite common, actually. Throughout history, people have talked about stars in the sky," Christine was saying, "God knows where it comes from."
"I just don't want her growing up and joining one of those Star Cults," Sharon said back, "I don't like that Avalon Reynolds very much. She keeps putting these crazy ideas in Amelia's head," she sighed.
Amelia frowned when she heard her aunt speaking about Avalon. No one seemed to like the fact that Avalon was different than other little girls. She said odd things, Amelia was the first to admit, but it wasn't automatically bad. Avalon did make some sense when it came to the stars and the cracks. Amelia knew Avalon had to be right in some sense, and that's why she continued being friends despite the reluctance of everyone else.
Just as Amelia moved to return to her bedroom, she heard something at the front door and saw a slip of paper being skid through the letter slot on the door. Amelia ran down the stairs and picked up the paper off the floor, seeing it was a brochure for the National Museum. She opened it up and saw one of the attractions of the museum, a Pandorica box or something, had been circled in red ink. And, on the back, Amelia saw a note reading, 'Come along, Pond' for her.
~ 0 ~
As much as Amelia had insisted to Avalon that they should both go to the museum together and see who and what had requested for Amelia to go, Avalon refused. She knew Amelia's aunt didn't really like her that much and preferred to stay away for the day. So, Amelia had gone to the National Museum with her aunt and had gone straight to the Pandorica room where the box laid in all its glory. She'd managed to slip away from her aunt and saw another note on the Pandorica, also written in the same red ink from the brochure, telling her to stick around. She ended up hiding in a nearby exhibit, successfully avoiding her aunt who had been searching for her all over the museum, going as far as making an announcement over the tannoy of the building to get her to come out.
When it was safe to come out, Amelia emerged from the exhibit she'd been hiding in and headed back into the Pandorica room. She went under the cord around the box and removed the note left for her. She placed a palm on the box and looked at it, gasping when he started glowing a bright green. She quickly moved back as the box started opening up. She covered her eyes as a blinding white light took over the room.
Once the light died down, Amelia looked again just as the box finished opening and came face to face with her older self, "Okay, kid. This is where it gets complicated," Amy took a breath.
~ 0 ~
In the Past...
Rory, the Plastic Centurion who'd managed to stay alive after the fiasco with other soldiers, had opened up the Pandorica with the Doctor's screwdriver, given to him by a future Doctor.
"How did you do that?" the current Doctor was staring at Rory in amazement.
"You gave me this," Rory waved the screwdriver in his hand.
"No, I didn't," the Doctor stepped out of the Pandorica and pulled out his own screwdriver to show he wasn't lying.
"You did. Look at it."
The Doctor held his screwdriver to the one Rory held and both men flinched as the two screwdrivers sparked, "Temporal energy. Same screwdriver, at different points in its own time stream. Which means it was me who gave it to you," the Doctor smiled, "Me from the future. I've got a future, that's nice," his eyes wandered behind Rory to see the remains of the enemies that'd locked him up, "That's not," he pointed at a Dalek.
"Yeah," Rory had ignored the creatures as they were a bit spooky, "What are they?"
"History has collapsed. Whole races have been deleted from existence. These are just like after-images. Echoes, fossils in time. The footprints of the never-were."
"Er, what does that mean?"
"Total event collapse. The universe literally never happened."
"So, how can we be here? What's keeping us safe?"
"Nothing," the Doctor shrugged as he took a better look around the room, "Eye of the storm, that's all. We're just the last light to go out. Amy. Where's Amy?"
~ 0 ~
Rory had brought the Doctor to Amy's body above ground, a blanket covering her, "I killed her," he shuddered a breath at his words. He hadn't meant to, it was literally in his programming to do so. He was Rory now, he was, but what ever had brought him back had been in control and that was what forced him to shoot...and unfortunately Amy had payed the price.
"Oh, Rory," the Doctor sighed, not too surprised of it.
"Doctor, what am I?" Rory dared to ask, needing to know what made him shoot his own fiancee.
"You're a Nestene duplicate. A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity," the Doctor started using the screwdriver on Amy to check for her vitals.
"But I'm Rory now. Whatever was happening, it's stopped. I'm Rory!"
"That's software talking."
Rory rolled his eyes, "Can you help her?" he moved closer, "Is there anything you can do?"
"Yeah, probably, if I had the time," the Doctor shrugged as he stood up, taking a
step over Amy's body.
"The time!?" Rory watched the man move away from them.
"All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened?" the Doctor continued his charade of indifference, "All the people who never lived? Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe."
Rory marched over and whipped the Doctor around to give him a punch in the face, satisfied to see the alien knocked to the ground, "She is to me!" he shouted.
The Doctor just laughed as he stood back up, rubbing his face where he'd been punched, "Welcome back, Rory Williams! Sorry, had to be sure. Hell of a gun-arm you're packing there. Right, we need to get her downstairs. And take that look off your plastic face. You're getting married in the morning!"
Together, they'd brought Amy down the Pandorica and placed her inside the box, the screwdriver Rory had been given by the future Doctor tucked in her front pocket as had been instructed.
"So you've got a plan, then?" Rory hoped as he watched the final restrains lock on Amy.
"Bit of a plan, yeah. Memories are more powerful than you think, and Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. Grew up with a time crack in her wall. The universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got more than they bargained for. Like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul," the Doctor put his hands on either side of Amy's face and closed his eyes for a moment, "I'm leaving her a message for when she wakes up, so she knows what's happening," once finished, he stepped back and locked the ginger girl in the Pandorica.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Rory nearly pushed him again, "What are you doing?"
"Saving her," the Doctor stopped him before he did anything rash, "This is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive."
"But she's already dead," Rory frowned.
"Mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. All it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it'll restore her."
"Where's it going to get that?"
The Doctor checked his watch, "In about 2,000 years."
"She's going to be in that box for 2,000 years?!" Rory nearly fell forwards at the answer, "What!?"
"Yeah, but we're taking a shortcut. River's vortex manipulator," the Doctor had pulled out a manipulator from River's bag and was strapping it on to his wrist, "Rubbish way to time travel, but the universe is tiny now. We'll be fine."
"So the future's still there, then?" Rory tried to wrap his mind around this wonky plan, "Our world?"
"A version of it. Not quite the one you know. Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look," the Doctor held his arm out for Rory, the manipulator set to go, "You put your hand there. Don't worry, should be safe."
"That's not what I'm worried about."
The Doctor looked at the Pandorica and sighed, "She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box."
"You got in there."
"Well, there's only one of me. I counted."
Rory couldn't find it in him to leave Amy alone and so shook his head, "This box needs a guard. I killed the last one."
"No. Rory, no. Don't even think about it," the Doctor pointed as the human moved towards the box again.
"She'll be all alone," Rory tried to say.
"She won't feel it!"
"You bet she won't!"
"2,000 years, Rory," the Doctor reminded, "You won't even sleep, you'd be conscious every second. It would drive you mad."
"Will she be safer if I stay?" Rory looked at him, dead serious, "Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer."
"Rory..."
"Answer me!"
"Yes," the Doctor finally gave the answer, "Obviously."
"Then how could I leave her?"
"Why do you have to be so...human?" the Doctor bowed his head, not upset simply fascinated of the matter.
"Because right now, I'm not," Rory answered and walked to the other side of the Pandorica. The Doctor gave up and started setting up the manipulator.
"Listen to me. This is the last bit of advice you're going to get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but not immortal," he began his warnings, "I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along. You can't heal, or repair yourself. Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, however bored you get, stay out of..." but he disappeared before he could finish his sentence.
Rory picked up his helmet and put it on, taking his sword from its place and held it to his side as he began his long vigil.
~ 0 ~
The Doctor appeared right in the middle of a fiasco concerning a Dalek and two gingers, "Trouble..." he finished his sentence, "Oh!" he looked back to see two Ponds, "Two of you?" he mused, "Complicated."
"Exterminate! 'Weapons systems restoring," the Dalek ahead of them was coming closer to the Pandorica room.
'Come along, Ponds," the Doctor took both gingers by the hand and ran to hiding by the Pandorica box.
"Exterminate!"
The Doctor stopped at an alcove display and nearly fell on a mannequin. He picked up a falling fez and put it on.
"What are we doing?" Amy looked around, hoping to find another way out before the Dalek caught them.
"Running into a dead end, where I'll have a brilliant plan, that basically involves not being in one," the Doctor grinned.
"What's going on?" a watchman called, the group able to see a bit of a torch shining into the room.
The Doctor and the Ponds moved to hide behind the Pandorica, "Get out of here," he told Amy, "Go! Just run!" but the ginger woman refused to go anywhere.
"Drop the device," the Dalek turned on the watchman.
"It's not a weapon," the Doctor called to them before the watchman was hurt, "Scan it. It's not a weapon, and you don't have the power to waste!"
"Scans indicate intruder unarmed."
The watchman scoffed, "Do you think?" he dropped his torch and held his hand out, his index fingers opening down to reveal a gun that fired on the Dalek's eyestalk.
"Vision impaired! Vision... "
The watchman stepped into the Pandorica room where the group was able to see it was RORY.
"Amy?" he breathed at the sight of her as she and the others came around the box.
"Rory!" Amy ran straight to him, nearly knocking him down with her hug.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. It just happened," Rory started apologizing as the ginger clung to him.
"Oh, Shut up," Amy rolled her eyes and kissed him.
"Yeah, shut up, cos we've got to go," the Doctor came up to them and sighed when they kept kissing, "Come on!"
Rory pulled away and smiled at Amy, "I waited. 2,000 years, I waited for you."
"No, still shut up," Amy resumed their kiss.
"And break! And breathe!" the Doctor nearly flapped his arms to get their attention back, "Well, somebody didn't get out much for 2,000 years," he muttered in the end.
Amelia tugged on his sleeve, "I'm thirsty," she frowned, "Can I get a drink?"
The Doctor let out a big breath, "Oh, it's all mouths today, isn't it?!" he put the fez he'd taken on her head but she shoved it back to him, still waiting for her drink. He shook his head and looked back at the Dalek, "The light! The light from the Pandorica, it must have hit the Dalek," the Dalek started moving its weapon, "Out! Out! Out!" he took Amelia's hand and pushed the snogging pair in front of them out into the hallway.
He and Rory closed the door and the Doctor pulled out his screwdriver to keep it locked, "So, 2,000 years. How did you do?" he genuinely wondered as he glanced at Rory.
"Kept out of trouble," Rory shrugged.
"Oh," the Doctor realized he still had the fez and placed it back on his head, "How?"
"Unsuccessfully," Rory walked to Amy. The Doctor nodded and picked up a nearby mop for the doors, "The mop!" Rory made him jump, "That's how you looked all those years ago when you gave me the sonic."
"Ah! Well, no time to lose then," the Doctor used the manipulator and disappeared. A couple seconds later he reappeared to put the mop through the door handles as another lock and then disappeared once again.
"How can he do that?" Amelia blinked as the man kept disappearing and coming back, "Is he magic?"
The Doctor finally appeared again and ran for the stairs, "Right, let's go then. Wait! Now I don't have the sonic, I just gave it to Rory 2,000 years ago," and off he went again. Seconds later he reappeared and reached over to Amy and pulled out his screwdriver from her pocket, "Off we go! No, hang on," he moved to Amelia, "How did you know to come here?" Amelia took out the museum brochure and held it out for him, "Ah, my handwriting. OK!" the Doctor ran for the stands of brochures then to a desk across, getting everything he needed for the note and disappeared. He reappeared moments later with a drink for Amelia, "There you go, drink up!" he handed it to her then continued his way up the stairs.
'What is that?" Amy shook her head, a bit dizzy after that.
"Vortex manipulator...cheap and nasty time travel," the Doctor shrugged, "Very bad for you. I'm trying to give it up."
"Where are we going?"
"The roof."
Suddenly, they saw another flash of light where another Doctor appeared at the top of the stairs, his jacket smoking and skin charcoiled. He toppled down the stairs until he came to a stop beside the current Doctor. Quickly, the current Doctor used his screwdriver on him while the humans rushed to them.
"Doctor, it's you. How can it be you?" Rory looked between both aliens.
"Doctor, is that you?" Amy was hesitant to accept such a thing.
"Yeah, it's me," the Doctor put away his screwdriver, "Me from the future."
The future Doctor snapped open his eyes and grabbed the current Doctor, whispering something in his ear before falling to the floor again, unconscious.
Amy's eyes widened as she saw the action, "Are you...I mean, is he...is he dead?"
The Doctor remained silent for a moment, "What?" he shook his head to snap himself out and stood up, "Yes, yes. Of course he's dead. Right, I've got 12 minutes, that's good," he started up the stairs again.
"12 minutes to live?" Amy stopped him again, "How is that good?"
"You can do loads in 12 minutes... suck a mint, buy a sledge, have a fast bath. Come on, the roof!"
"We can't leave you here, dead," Rory frowned.
"Oh, good! Are you in charge now? So, tell me, what are we going to do about Amelia?" the Doctor looked at where Amelia had originally been at, only her drink left on the floor as evidence.
However, the two humans didn't seem to understand she was gone forever as they started down the stairs searching for her.
"Where did she go?" Amy frowned and looked back at the Doctor.
"Amelia?" Rory shouted for the girl.
"There is no Amelia. From now on, there never was," the Doctor informed, making both look back, "History is still collapsing."
"How can I be here, if she's not?" Amy gestured to herself, as if doubting his words.
"You're an anomaly. We all are. We're all hanging on at the eye of the storm, but the eye is closing, and if we don't do something, reality will never have happened. Today, just dying is a result. Now, come on!"
~ 0 ~
Eventually, the group made it up to the roof where it was visibly daylight now. Amy looked around as if she was being tricked, "How did morning happen?" she questioned.
"History is shrinking. Is anybody listening to me?" the Doctor rolled his eyes as he headed for a satellite dish, "Universe is collapsing. We don't have much time left."
"What are you doing?" Rory raised an eyebrow as the Doctor pulled the dish off its place with the screwdriver.
"Looking for the TARDIS."
"But the TARDIS exploded."
"OK, then. I'm looking for an exploding TARDIS," the Doctor rolled his eyes again at his technicality and moved to the edge of the roof.
"I don't understand," Amy followed him, "So, the TARDIS blew up and took the universe with it. Why would it do that? How?"
"Good question for another day," the Doctor raised the dish up to the sky, "But for now... total event collapse means that every star in the universe never happened. Not one of them ever shone. So, if all the stars that ever were are gone...what is that?" he made both humans look at a fireball in the sky. Both Amy and Rory exchanged quick, confused glances before looking at the Doctor again. "Like I said, I'm looking for an exploding TARDIS."
"But that's the sun," Rory blinked, though now he wasn't so sure that's what it was.
"Is it? Here's the noise that 'sun' is making right now," the Doctor amplified the light noises to make them see it was the TARDIS. "That's my TARDIS burning up. That's what's been keeping the Earth warm."
Rory listened closer and shook his head, "Doctor, there's something else. There's a voice-er, scream."
The Doctor frowned and adjusted the settings of his screwdriver to get a better sound.
"I can't hear anything," Amy tapped her ears.
"Trust the plastic," Rory nodded.
Then they heard the voice Rory was talking about, all recognizing it instantaneously, "Fairy Tale Man, where are you?" Avalon kept asking on a loop before screaming.
"That's Ava!" Rory nearly shouted, "Doctor, that is Ava and she is not here! Where is she!?"
"The emergency protocols..." the Doctor gasped lightly. He hated himself for not realizing it sooner. "The TARDIS has sealed off the control room and put Avalon and River into a time loop to save them. They're right at the heart of the explosion."
Of course that's where Avalon would be, right where the action was happening. He would roll his eyes at how typical that was if he didn't feel himself panicking from head to toe. First of all, he was supposed to keep her away from River and that clearly wasn't happening right now. Second of all, she was literally in the middle of an explosion. That's nowhere near what he promised her she would see if she came along with him. You promised her she and her sister would travel together and you failed in that too. He did. But he wouldn't let Avalon follow in Lena's fate. He long ago made that promise to himself and he would make sure to fulfill no matter what.
He needed to go pick her up right now.
~ 0 ~
River connected wires on the console, ignoring the sparks and small explosions as best as she could. Time was of the essence and she needed to her and Avalon out of this mess. When she thought the work was more or less done, she looked up and gave a nod to Avalon. "Try it Avalon!"
Avalon swallowed hard and dashed towards the doors. She didn't know what the hell was going on but she trusted River, despite the Doctor's clear reservations about her. She flung the doors open only to come face to face with a stone wall. Her heart dropped. "Fairy Tale Man, where are you?" she stepped back and turned around in time to see River attempting one more try on the console before it exploded with a bright light. Avalon screamed from its might.
The loop started over again and Avalon once more ran for the doors after River gave her the go. Only this time, the Doctor appeared in front of the doors. "Any princess in need of saving?" he looked around like nothing was going on.
Avalon gave a hearty laugh at the sight of him. She ran towards him, jumping to hug him. "You came!"
"Always will," he reassured her for future references. "Are you okay? Nothing hurts?"
"I'm fine!" Avalon pulled away but kept her arms looped around his neck as if he would disappear in that second.
River smiled at them from the console. "You're late!" she cut through their moment to point out.
"Oh, criticism!" the Doctor rolled his eyes. "I was a little tied up. Well, trapped actually. I tried my best! Now c'mon!" River left the console in a sprint. "Hang on, please!"
"Avalon's taking care of that," River made a gesture to Avalon's arms around the Doctor's neck, giving them both a teasing grin. It was actually quite amusing the way they both shared the same blushes. How they got into sync like that, River would never understand.
The three soon disappeared and re-appeared on the rooftop where Amy and Rory waited.
"Amy! And the plastic Centurion?" River eyed the pair curiously.
"Rory!" Avalon ran up to her best friend and hugged him, "My Rory! You're my best friend!" she laughed.
"And there's no one else you've, uh...remembered?" Rory pulled away, happy to see her alright but there was still that blank face on Avalon that just didn't settle with him. How could she forget Lena like this?
"Why do you ask?" Avalon stepped back and looked at the others, noticing a similar expression on each of their faces, "What is it?"
"Nothing," the Doctor answered while looking at Rory, nearly forcing him to stay away from the topic of Lena.
Rory frowned, disagreeing with the Doctor's decision. Lena was Avalon's sister, she deserved to be remembered at the least!
River sensed the tension growing between the group and stepped in between them, "Right then, I have questions," she tried distracting, "But number one is this: what in the name of sanity have you got on your head?" she pointed at the red rez the Doctor wore on his head.
"It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezes are cool," the Doctor grinned happily.
River looked at Avalon with a smirk, silently agreeing on what was going to happen next. Avalon snatched the fez from the Doctor's head and threw it into the sky where it was shot and destroyed by River.
"Oh!" the Doctor pouted, his head feeling lonely now.
"Next time can I shoot?" Avalon asked River, already eyeing River's blaster with plans.
"Exterminate!" the group turned to see the Dalek they'd left now hovering on the side of the building.
The Doctor forgot about his fez and hurried the others back to the stairwell entrance, "Run, run, move, move. Go! Come on!" after covering everyone with the satellite dish, the Dalek firing as soon as it had the chance, the Doctor was the last to climb down to the stairwell.
"Doctor, come on," River hurried as she kept an aim on the hatch, the others just behind her.
"Shh. It's moving away, finding another way in," the Doctor quieted her down after using the screwdriver to lock the hatch. He jumped down, "It needs to restore its power before it can attack again. Now, that means we've got exactly four and a half minutes before it's at lethal capacity."
"How do you know that?" Avalon followed him down the stairs.
"Because that's when it's due to kill me."
"Kill you?" Avalon and River looked at each other with confusion while Amy and Rory simply sighed behind them.
"What do you mean, 'kill' you?" Avalon insisted seeing as the Doctor had made more of a haste down the stairs, "Oi!" she called.
"Oh, shut up, never mind," he waved her off, unaware of the glare she now had on him, "How can that Dalek even exist?" they entered a hallway, "It was erased from time and then it came back. How?"
"You said the light from the Pandorica..." Rory reminded but was cut off.
"It's not a light, it's a restoration field, but never mind. Call it a light. That light brought Amy back, but how could it bring back a Dalek when the Daleks have never existed?"
"Okay, tell us," Amy motioned with a hand for him to keep going, no one surprised he'd just been playing the moment even more.
"When the TARDIS blew up, it caused a total event collapse. A time explosion. It blasted every atom in every moment of the universe. Except..."
"Except inside the Pandorica."
"The perfect prison. Inside it, perfectly preserved, a few billion atoms of the universe as it was. In theory, you could extrapolate the whole universe from a single one of them, like cloning a body from a single cell. And we've got the bumper family pack."
"No, too fast, I'm not getting it," Rory made a face.
The Doctor sighed and turned back for a moment, "The box contains a memory of the universe, and the light transmits the memory. And that's how we're going to do it."
"Do what, exactly?" Avalon crossed her arms, sharing the misunderstanding with Rory.
"Relight the fire. Reboot the universe. Come on!" the Doctor exclaimed and continued down the hallway.
River, who'd understood perfectly the 'plan', hurried after him, "Doctor, you're being completely ridiculous. The Pandorica partially restored one Dalek. If it can't even reboot a single life form properly, how will it reboot the whole of reality?"
"What if we give it a moment of infinite power?" the Doctor shrugged, "Transmit the light from the Pandorica to every particle of space and time simultaneously?"
"Well, that would be lovely, dear, but we can't, because it's completely impossible!"
"Ah, no, you see, it's not," he tapped her on the forehead, "It's almost completely impossible. One spark is all we need."
"For what?"
"Big Bang Two!" he cheered, "Now listen..." he didn't get the chance to explain the plan in the detail as the Dalek had reappeared and shot him from the back.
"Exterminate! Exterminate!" the Dalek headed for them.
The Doctor had collapsed to the floor in the smokey appearance Amy and Rory had seen twelve minutes ago. Rory made sure everyone else was behind him as he shot the Dalek once more in the eyestalk, draining its energy for another while.
"What do we do?" Avalon knelt beside River, scared out of her mind. "Is he going to do that face-change thing?"
"Not enough energy hit him for that," River assured her, "Doctor, it's me, River. Can you hear me? What is it? What do you need?"
The Doctor didn't answer anyone, instead reaching to his manipulator on his wrist and activating it, disappearing from the group.
"Where did he go?" River looked around, "Damn it, he could be anywhere."
Amy shook her head as the two women stood up, "He went downstairs. 12 minutes ago."
"Show me!"
"River, he died."
"If he died he wouldn't have randomly gone twelve minutes into the past," Avalon refused to believe any such thing involving the Doctor's death. That just wasn't possible. "Clearly, he had a plan that didn't involve telling any of us."
"Systems restoring! You will be exterminated!" the Dalek began to stir again.
"Oh shut up!" Avalon turned to the blasted Dalek in anger.
"Not the time, Ava," Rory quickly stopped her before her temper grew, "We've got to move. That thing's coming back to life."
"Well someone's got to shoot that thing dead," Avalon glared at the creature.
"All of you go to the Doctor," River instructed them, "I'll be right with you."
"What are you going to do?" Avalon looked back at her.
"Exactly what it deserves," River nodded for them to all leave.
Avalon sighed but let Amy and Rory lead her towards the Pandorica room. Upon seeing the Doctor's body not on the stairs as had been twelve minutes ago, Amy and Rory started searching for the missing alien.
"What's going on?" Avalon frowned, coming up behind them and seeing only a jacket on the floor.
"He's moved," Rory explained and ran down the remaining steps, "How could he have moved? He was dead! Doctor? Doctor!"
"But he was dead!" Amy exclaimed.
"Like I said, he must have lied," Avalon rolled her eyes and moved down the remaining steps as well. "That's like one of his rules, remember?"
"No, he was dead, we saw him," Amy insisted, but Avalon shook her head in refusal.
"Who told you that?" River joined them, looking calm as ever despite having blasted a Dalek to pieces seconds ago.
"He did."
"Rule one. The Doctor lies."
"Told you," Avalon told Amy with a hint of triumph lacing her tone. "So, where's the Dalek?"
"It died," she answered darkly and entered the exhibit hall leading to the Pandorica room.
They could all see the Doctor sitting inside the Pandorica box, unconscious they assumed. They ran into the room and River went straight to the Doctor to check what exactly he'd been doing.
"Why did he tell us he was dead?" Rory frowned, not appreciating they'd been crudely lied to.
"A diversion," Avalon sighed, "Told you," she looked at them, "How is it that I figured that out in less than ten minutes when you've been here longer than I have? As long as the Dalek was chasing us, he could work down here."
"Doctor, can you hear me?" River was asking the Doctor, clapping his face repeatedly to get a response form him. "What were you doing?"
"What's happening?" Rory looked up at the small window above them when the room became lighted with yellow and orange from the 'fireball' in the sky.
"Reality's collapsing," River called to them, "It's speeding up. Look at this room."
The trio looked around and saw every single display was empty.
"Where did everything go?" Amy frowned.
"History is being erased. Time is running out," River sighed and focused on the Doctor again, "Doctor, what were you doing? Tell us! Doctor?"
"Big... Bang... Two," he slowly came around.
"The Big Bang is the beginning of the universe," Avalon relayed, "Is that supposed to be like the 'reboot' thing you were talking about?" he slowly nodded, "Is that even possible?" she frowned.
"Oh!" the answer came from River, "Oh, that's good," she started to smile.
"What?" Amy asked.
"The TARDIS is still burning. It's exploding at every point in history. If you threw the Pandorica into the explosion, right into the heart of the fire..."
"Then what?"
"Then let there be light. The light from the Pandorica would explode everywhere at once, just like he said."
"That would work?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, "That would bring everything back?"
"A restoration field, powered by an exploding TARDIS, happening at every moment in history. Oh, that's brilliant. It might even work!" River let a small laugh and took out the Doctor's screwdriver, "He's wired the vortex manipulator to the rest of the box."
"Why?" Rory asked.
"So he can take it with him," River realized and looked back at the Doctor, still barely unconscious, "He's going to fly the Pandorica into the heart of the explosion."
~ 0 ~
After being sent out of the Pandorica room so the Doctor could finish his work in the Pandorica box, the human faction started witnessing even more displays being emptied out by collapsing time. While Amy and Rory comforted each other, Avalon stood to the side in deep thought. Eventually, Rory noticed and felt like he could nearly guess why she was so silent and thoughtful.
"Ava," Rory quietly called, leaving Amy for just a moment. He knew that the Doctor said not to tell Avalon anything but she had the right to know, and he wouldn't feel right about hiding poor Lena from her twin sister.
Avalon looked over at him, "I still can't believe you're back," she admitted with a small smile.
"You and me both," he agreed and they shared a small laugh. He glanced at Avalon for a minute, debating one last time whether or not he should go through with it and tell her the truth.
"You know, now I understand why my journal had those empty lines in the middle of my writing," she beat him to it, "I kept thinking and thinking of why I would do something like that: leave blank lines in my pages. I knew I was forgetting something and that something turned out to be you," she looked at him again, her smile brightening, "Why Vincent said he was sorry for my losses," Rory gave him a look for that, "I met Vincent Van Gogh a while back. I also met Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald. I knew I forgot something...and I guess my mind was trying to give me some clues."
"But...wait a minute," Rory also caught another word, "Van Gogh said 'losses'," he watched Avalon stiffen at that, knowing she'd finally realized it too, "Meaning you didn't...lose just...me."
"No, but..." Avalon blinked, "The blank lines...those were because of you..." she turned to him, "...they had to be..." but as she studied the face Rory had she knew he was hiding something from her, "...Rory? What's going on?"
"Ava, I'm really sorry," Rory sighed.
"What's going on?" Avalon asked again and when she didn't get an answer she walked up to Amy, "Amy, do you know what Rory's been hiding?"
"What?" Amy raised an eyebrow, "No, I just...I just got him back," she reminded, "How could I know a secret of his?"
"Rory Arthur Williams you tell me what's going on right now!" Avalon stomped her foot and glared at her plastic best friend.
Rory turned to both gingers and took a deep breath, the words he was about to speak would surely cause some problems...
~ 0 ~
River emerged from the Pandorica room to gather two gingers but instead found Avalon with red eyes, barely able to stand, and Amy near to tears. River marched up to them and with hands on her hip, "What's going on here?"
"It's my fault," Rory sighed, unhappy with the results but knowing that in a long run it was better.
River shook her head, "Amy, Avalon, the Doctor wanted to talk to both of you, but..."
Avalon didn't wait for her to finish and stalked into the Pandorica room.
"Avalon!" Amy tried to go after her but was kept back by Rory, "We can't-"
"Just...just let her talk first," he pleaded, "She deserves to know."
"What happened?" River questioned again.
"Fine," Amy huffed and moved up to River, "Why don't you tell us what happens here instead?" she said to River, "Big Bang Two? What happens to us?"
River sighed, "We all wake up where we ought to be. None of this ever happens and we don't remember it."
"River... tell me he comes back, too."
"The Doctor will be the heart of the explosion," River looked down.
"So?"
"So all the cracks in time will close, but he'll be on the wrong side...trapped in the never-space, the void between the worlds. All memory of him will be purged from the universe. He will never have been born."
"Oh...that's it?" Amy swallowed hard, barely managing a sarcastic tone.
"I'm sorry," was all River could say.
~ 0 ~
Avalon gradually slowed as she walked towards the Pandorica. The Doctor noticed her expression and knew it wasn't because of him, and the only other thing that could make her react like that would be...
"Her name was Lena," Avalon said quietly, her voice shaking with each step she took. "She was my twin sister and I...I can't even remember her," Avalon stopped before him, her eyes ready to spill fresh new tears, "Rory told me all about her and I can't remember anything."
"Subconsciously you did," he tried to help, "The strawberry hot chocolate, that was her favorite drink."
"Oh, goody, I remembered her favorite drink but not her," she gritted her teeth, "I still can't remember her. And do you know what's the worst thing? That I knew, I knew that I'd forgotten something and I've had memories but I can't actually see her! I can't see her! Why? Amy has zero idea who Lena is, she never had any idea that she'd forgotten someone...but I did. I knew that I forgot Rory, and I knew that I'd forgotten Lena...why?"
"I really wish I knew, Ava," the Doctor honestly said, lamenting the fact he would probably never understand what gave Avalon that ability. "I don't know why your subconscious fought harder. It's like you said the first night you came with me: your brain is wired differently."
"Ruddy brain," Avalon muttered bitterly. She folded her arms over her chest.
"Beautiful, intelligent brain!"
Avalon rolled her eyes at him. "No time for compliments here! I want to remember Lena, I want...I want to remember all the times we shared. She existed and she deserves to be remembered."
"I've got news for you, Avalon Reynolds. Would you like to hear it?" the Doctor knew that despite her feelings, she wouldn't resist not hearing what he had to say.
"...what is it?"
He smiled weakly at her. "You're going to see Lena again. My sweet baby sister is going to be alive again."
"How?"
"Big Bang," he whispered with a small cheerful tone, actually making Avalon chuckle a little.
"How, though? What are you physically going to do here?" Avalon's eyes studied the wires he'd connected from his manipulator to the Pandorica. It looked rather painful and he already seemed so weak.
"He's going to take the Pandorica into the exploding TARDIS and seal every crack up while leaving himself stuck on the wrong side," Amy entered the room.
"What?" Avalon frowned, looking at Amy as she joined her.
"Such a 'you' thing to do by the way," Amy looked at the Doctor with a sigh.
"But you can't do that," Avalon shook her head at him, "I want Lena back but...I don't want to lose you either."
"Well, isn't that nice to hear," the Doctor smiled, "Am I finally a friend?"
"What?" Avalon laughed in a confused manner, "What kind of question is that? You were always a friend. I mean, you were Amy's 'imaginary friend'," the two gingers shared a moment of laughter at their childhood ideas, "And you were the Fairy Tale Man for me. I, actually, um, wrote short stories about you..." she blushed with embarrassment.
"Yeah, I read them," Amy muttered.
Avalon's mouth dropped open, "What!?" she turned to Amy, "How dare you!?"
"We were ten, give it up," Amy rolled her eyes.
"Well," Avalon huffed and crossed her arms, "And here I thought I had friends who respected privacy."
Amy rolled her eyes again, "Yeah, yeah, ten years old," she emphasized their young age then sighed, "Anyways," she looked at the Doctor again, "What Avalon was trying to say was that we don't want to lose you."
"And I'm touched, I really am," the Doctor nodded. At least he knew that he'd completed his little challenge with Avalon and became a true friend; and, he felt very happy about it, "However, there are some things you've yet to see. Example number one, Amy: your house was too big. That big, empty house. And just you."
"And Aunt Sharon," she reminded, seeing no relevancy in it.
"Where were your mum and dad? Where was... everybody who lived in that big house?"
"I lost my Mum and Dad."
"How? What happened to them? Where did they go?"
"I... I don't..." Amy began faltering the more she thought about her parents. She looked at Avalon for help, seeing as they'd known each other since they were in diapers nearly, "...Avalon?"
"I don't, I don't remember," Avalon shrugged as she thought as well, "I just remember..." she closed her eyes, focusing hard.
"It's OK. Don't panic," the Doctor said to them, "It's not your fault."
"I don't even remember," Amy gasped at the realization.
"There was a crack in time in the wall of your bedroom and it's been eating away at your life for a long time now. Amy Pond, all alone in that house. The girl who didn't make sense. How could I resist?"
"How could I just forget?"
"Nothing is ever forgotten, not really. But you have to try."
The ground started shaking underneath them. River ran into the room urgently, "Doctor! It's speeding up!"
Amy returned the Doctor's screwdriver into his pocket and sighed.
"There's going to be a very big bang. Big Bang Two," the Doctor began, "Try and remember your family and they'll be there. And, maybe even remember my baby sister?"
"How can I remember them if they never existed?" Amy looked at Avalon, "You'd be better at this than me!"
"You're special, Amy," the Doctor assured, "That crack in your wall, all that time, the universe pouring into your head. You brought Rory back...you can bring everyone else back, too. You just remember, and they'll be there."
"You won't," Amy countered, taking Avalon's hand and backing away from him.
"That's not any better," Avalon added.
"You'll have your families back," he smiled, "You won't need your imaginary friend nor a Fairy Tale Man any more. Avalon Reynolds, Amy Pond... crying over me, eh? Guess what?"
"What?" both gingers sniffled.
"Gotcha!"
The Pandorica closed and began glowing until it launched into the sky.
"Back! Get back!" River pulled both gingers into a corner of the room with Rory, all gathering together as the shaking increased. A couple seconds later River received a message from the Doctor in her communicator, "It's from the Doctor."
"What does it say?" Avalon peered over.
"Geronimo."
The room was taken over by a bright, white light...
~ 0 ~
Amy fluttered her eyes open to a bright morning. She slowly sat up and looked around her room, looking around the mess she had in it with her imaginary friend dolls and drawings. She really ought to clean that up seeing as she was about to get...
"Morning!" her mother, Tabetha, came into the room holding a breakfast tray in hand.
Amy, startled, looked at her with wide eyes, "You're my mum. Oh, my God, you're my mum."
"Well, of course I'm your mum. What's the matter with you?" Tabetha shook off her daughter's oddness for the moment, "And this is your breakfast, which your father made, so feel free to tip it out of the window if it's an atrocity. Downstairs, 10 minutes? Big day!" she cheered and hurried on out.
"Of course she's my mum. Why is that surprising?" Amy whispered to herself before jumping out of bed.
She ran down the stairs towards the living room where she was hearing a set of low mutters. It was her...father.
"Ah, Amelia. I fear I may have been using the same joke book as the best man," Augustus Pond turned to her with genuine concern.
"You're my tiny little dad!" Amy laughed and hurried up to hug him.
"Amelia, why are you behaving as if you've never seen us before?" Tabetha entered the room with confusion.
"I don't know. It's just..." but Amy laughed again and hugged them both.
~ 0 ~
Rory was brushing his teeth when he heard his phone ringing. He quickly answered, "Hello!"
"Do you feel like you've forgotten something really important?" Amy got straight to the point.
"Yep!"
"Do you feel like there's a great big thing in your head, and you feel like you should remember it, but you can't?"
"Yep!"
"Are you just saying yes cos you're scared of me?"
"Yep."
Amy rolled her eyes, "I love you."
"Yep," Rory shook his head, "I mean, I love you too!"
"I'm going to call Avalon, she'll understand!"
"Yep," Rory nodded, still with no idea what the conversation was about.
Amy shook her head and laughed before hanging up. She hung up and redialed again for the Reynolds', she would've dialed for Avalon's cellphone, but...she'd been punished.
She and Mel needed to stop getting into so much trouble.
~ 0 ~
"Hello?" a young, fourteen year old boy answered the phone.
"Gavin? Is Avalon around?" Amy asked.
"Yeah," Gavin picked at an orange strand of hair refusing to stay off his forehead. He kept blowing on it, prompting Amy to snap his name out.
"Gavin, pass the phone to Avalon!"
"Aren't you getting married?"
"Well, not if people won't take my phone call serious and just talk to me!" huffed Amy over the line.
Gavin pulled the phone from his ear and made a face. "You're weird, Amy. AVALON!"
~ 0 ~
Avalon was still in her pajamas with a robe on when her brother called for her. But she ignored it as she quietly tip-toed towards a room with an open door. She poked her head inside and saw a small brunette standing in front of a mirror with a salmon-pink dress on.
"Avalon, what is it?" Lena Reynolds turned to her with her hands on her hips.
Avalon felt the air leave her lungs at the sight of her twin sister. "Oh Lena!" She ran inside the room and hugged Lena so very tight. "Lena!"
"What...what is it?" Lena blinked with genuine confusion, still hugging her twin back however.
"You're my twin!" Avalon pulled away to look Lena over, "My smaller, serene twin!"
Lena laughed of confusion and shrugged, "Guess...I am," she looked at Avalon with concern, "Are you alright?" she put a hand on Avalon's forehead, "You haven't been writing too much in the journal of yours? I told you to go to sleep early last night!"
"Not this time," Avalon chuckled.
"Avalon!" Gavin ran inside the room holding the landline phone in his hand, "It's Amy!"
"Amy?" Avalon looked at Lena, "Isn't she getting married in about two hours?"
Lena nodded, "That was the rumor."
Avalon laughed and hugged her again, taking the phone and rushing off to her own room. Gavin frowned and looked at his other big sister, "What's wrong with her? She's weirder than usual."
"Don't be rude," Lena turned him around and walked him out of her room. "Now go finish getting ready."
"Yeah, yeah," the boy rolled his eyes and went on.
~ 0 ~
"Don't you feel like there's something missing?" Amy was asking Avalon while the ginger-twin ran a hand through her fairy tale books in her bookshelf.
"I get you," Avalon confessed as she pulled out one of her books, that of Sleeping Beauty in its French version - La Belle au bois dormant - by Charles Perrault, "Something at the tip of your tongue but never there," she skimmed through the pages of her book. Though it was French, she'd forced herself to learn what was on the pages. She could read it fluently.
"Yeah," Amy sighed, glad to know that once again Avalon understood her, "But no one understands!"
Avalon scoffed, "They all think you're crazy, Amy. I wouldn't insist to them."
"Yeah...I should go," Amy sighed again, "As always, thanks for understanding."
"No worries, see you later," Avalon hung up and chucked the phone to her bed.
She closed her book and stared at it for another moment, understanding completely what Amy had been talking about. She'd had the same sensations but being who she was no one ever believed her in the town. For that, she preferred to talk about it either to Amy and/or write it in her journal. She glanced at a small pile of papers on her desk and sighed. She would've stuck them in her journal but her journal was filled up now, no more space for anything...and she wasn't going to buy a new one. It was the last thing she had of her mother after all.
Instead, she returned her book to the shelf and headed for her salmon-pink dress that hung on her closet door, a maid of honor didn't get ready in just ten minutes, no!
~ 0 ~
The Reynolds sat at a table not too far from the bride and groom (and their families) in the reception room. They'd just finished hearing the speech from Rory's best man and were about to listen to Amy's father's, Augustus, speech.
"Sorry, everyone. I'll be another two minutes. I'm just reviewing certain aspects," Augustus apologized and sat down to review his speech, the rest of the guests laughing at his actions.
"Your father, Amelia, will be the absolute death of me. Unless, of course, I strike pre-emptively," Tabetha sighed.
Amy laughed at their antics but stopped when she saw a woman with brown hair walking by the windows of the reception giving her a look. It was kind of familiar but Amy wasn't sure why. Still, her body reacted faster than her mind and before Amy knew it, she had stood up.
"Amy? You OK?" Rory looked up at her.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm..." Amy shook her head and sat down again, "...fine."
"Right. Er... You're crying," Rory pointed.
"So I am. Why am I doing that?"
"Because you're happy, probably. Happy Mrs Rory. Happy, happy, happy."
Amy rubbed her face again as she felt more tears, "No. I'm sad. I'm really, really sad."
"Great," Rory sighed, not the way to start a marriage!
"Why am I sad?" Amy wondered then noticed a book in front of Rory, "What's that?"
"Oh, er, someone left it for you. A woman," Rory handed her the book.
"But what is it?" Amy took the book and studied it, putting more thought into it than Rory had apparently.
"It's a book."
"It's blank," Amy showed him a couple pages that were indeed blank.
"It's a present," Rory thought he was stating the obvious here.
"But why?"
"Well, you know the old saying. The old... wedding... thing. Huh?" Rory tried to make sense of it but failed miserably, "Amy?"
Augustus stood up with an apologetic smile, "Ready now. Sorry about that. Last-minute adjustments to certain aspects. Now then, it hardly seems a year..."
Amy didn't pay attention to what was going on as she was beginning to remember things...things she had no idea what they were. She studied a nearby guest wearing a red bowtie and then another guest with blue braces. Amy felt a tear stroll down her face and it fell to the book's cover.
"Shut up, Dad!" Amy abruptly stood up, ending her father's speech.
"Amy?" Rory reached for her hand.
"Amelia?" Augustus frowned.
"Sorry, but shut up, please!" Amy begged them as she took a deep breath, "There's someone missing...someone important. Someone so, so important."
"Amy, what's wrong?" Rory moved to stand but she shook her head and continued to talk.
"No one understands, except Avalon," Amy pointed at her ginger friend, all eyes moving to Avalon in a snap, "I had an imaginary friend when I was kid," and then went the sighs of her parents, "And my friend Avalon, she wrote about him."
"And it was meant to be a secret," Avalon said through gritted teeth, giving Amy a look that said to shut up. She didn't care if Amy was the bride, she would punch her.
"The raggedy Doctor," Amy insisted, "My raggedy Doctor. And Avalon's fairy tale man, but he wasn't imaginary. He was real. You know he was," Amy looked around, more determined than ever, "I remember you! I remember! I brought the others back, I can bring you home, too. Raggedy man, I remember you, and you are late for my wedding!"
In the silence around the room, Rory and the twins noticed their glasses clinking against each other as the ground underneath shook, the chandelier swaying above.
"I found you. I found you in words, like you knew I would," Amy continued, not about to give up, especially when the wind started picking and the faint noises of the TARDIS began to grow audible, "That's why you told me the story...the brand new, ancient blue box. Oh, clever. Very clever."
"Amy, what is it?" Rory, still confused, looked all around.
"Avalon..." Lena whispered, slightly frightened.
"It's the Fairy Tale Man," Avalon began smiling as the TARDIS materialized in the middle of the dance floor. "It's my Fairy Tale Man..."
"Something old. Something new. Something borrowed. Something blue," Amy laughed.
"It's the Doctor!" Rory remembered now as the box was now fully visible, unaware that Amy had climbed over their table and was heading for the TARDIS, "How did we forget the Doctor? I was plastic. I died in an underground cave..." He saw the looks he got for the last bit and added, quietly, "Long story."
Lena blinked when she started to remember as well, "I died," she frowned.
"I met Mary Costa," Avalon recalled. "And Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald."
"You did what?" their father, who sat across them, raised his eyebrows at the knowledge he was hearing.
Both sisters looked back at him with sweet smiles, "Nothing, Daddy," they said together.
"You're both weird," Gavin muttered, earning himself identical glares from his sisters.
Amy was knocking, or pounding, on the TARDIS doors calling for the alien inside, "OK, Doctor. Did I surprise you this time?"
The door opened and out came the Doctor, dressed in a top hat with a white tie and tails, a large, loose white scarf draped over his shoulders, "Er, yeah. Completely astonished. Never expected that. How lucky I happened to be wearing this old thing," he stepped out for everyone to see him, "Hello, everyone. I'm Amy's imaginary friend, but I came anyway," he shook hands with a flabbergasted Augustus Pond, "Oh, and a Fairy Tale Man," he waved at the Reynolds, specifically giving a wink to Avalon.
She smiled in return.
"You absolutely, definitely may kiss the bride," Amy strode for the Doctor, pulling his attention back to the bigger picture.
"Amy!" the twins exclaimed as they stood up from their seats.
The Doctor placed a finger on Amy's lips and grinned, "Amelia! From now on, I shall be leaving the... kissing duties to the brand new Mr Pond," he shook Rory's hand as the man came to join them.
"No, I'm not Mr Pond. That's not how it works," Rory began to argue.
"Yeah, it is," the Doctor nodded.
"Yeah, it is," Rory mumbled with acceptance.
"Big brother!" Lena rushed up to hug the Doctor.
The Doctor, upon remembering her (thankfully rewritten) fate, hugged her back instantaneously. "Baby sister! Thank goodness you're okay now," he kissed her head and hugged her just a bit longer. "And happy, and...gorgeous by the way," Lena chuckled, "Alive and happy, just like you should be."
"I can't believe I forgot about everything," Lena pulled away and looked at Avalon, "I called you crazy for all those stories you wrote."
"Is there anyone who didn't read my stories?" Avalon huffed.
"Me," Rory raised his hand, succeeding in making her laugh.
"Of course," she had to smile at him.
"And me," the Doctor added with a cheeky grin, "Though maybe I could take a small peek...?"
"No," she said, though the Doctor swore he could see a small blush on her cheeks that made him even more curious about those stories, "But I'm glad to have you back," she moved on up and hugged him.
"Right then, everyone," he cleared his throat and pulled away from Avalon to look back at the guests, "I'll move my box. You're going to need the space," he rushed into the TARDIS and looked back, "I only came for the dancing," he smirked and went off.
The remaining group looked at each others with smiles as they felt the wind of the TARDIS dematerializing hit them, simply happy to be together again.
~ 0 ~
Later that night, each companion got to see just how good of a dancer the Doctor was. Amy was first up on the dance floor and as she did her best, normal dancing to Queen's "Crazy Little Thing Called Love", she had no idea what the Doctor was doing.
"You're terrible! That is embarrassing!" she accused, but the Doctor didn't seem to care. He thought he was doing just fine.
After that the Doctor started showing off his 'moves' for the children who were eager to learn how to dance like him, "That's it. That's good. Keep it loose!"
"Teach me!" Lena came over to join them, the Doctor more than happy to show his baby sister just how to dance. It was her turn after all!
~ 0 ~
The music had slowed down and provided the best setting for the new couple. Mostly everyone was at the dance floor, accompanying Amy and Rory for the moment... almost everyone. The Doctor was happily watching his friends dance when Lena slowly came up to him.
"Big brother, can I talk to you for a second?" the seriousness in her face indicated to the Doctor there was something deeply bothering her.
"Of course," he agreed and followed her to a more quiet place.
~ 0 ~
Avalon would've enjoyed the dancing if someone that day had bothered to take her out. Since that failed, she decided to leave the party for a moment just to get some fresh air. The ballroom was a bit stuffy anyways. As she walked out of the ballroom, however, she started to hear weird noises from a distance. It sounded like a gurgle, actually, but not a regular gurgle. She would've ignored it but she also got the feeling that something was watching her.
"Hello?" she called out. She stopped when she heard a crunching of leaves on the ground. "If this is one of you stupid kids trying to scare me, I will get you," she warned and stepped into a small sitting area. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw not a child, but a gray alien in a black suit. "O-o-oh my God…" she stumbled back a couple steps and hit a tree's bark. "Wh-what are you…?"
The alien tilted is large head to the side, raising one of its tentacle-like hands and pointing a long finger at her. "You tried to hide from the Silence but we have found you," its raspy voice filled the area.
"D-doctor!" she started to call out.
The lone creature directed its other hand to the bench where a rolled up paper sat. Avalon followed the gaze and, unfortunately, forgot the creature altogether.
"Avalon?" she heard the Doctor call her name and she quickly turned around.
"Avalon are you out here?" Lena then called.
Avalon blinked slowly and rubbed the side of her head. She looked around and spotted the rolled up letter again on the bench. She walked over to it and picked it up. Without hesitation, she ripped off the small red ribbon keeping it folded and scanned its contents.
"There you are!" Lena's exclaim startled the ginger but by that time she had already finished reading the letter.
"Was it my imagination or were you calling my name?" the Doctor was making a face as he tried to decide whether or not the call had been real. There was too much going on to be sure.
Avalon looked at them with a sly smile. "Mm, I'm curious to see what dreams you've been having of me, Fairy Tale Man."
The Doctor sputtered with a red face, making her laugh. "That's not funny!"
"Ahem," Lena calmly cleared her throat. "Avalon, there was something we wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh? The both of you?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, a suspicious swirl sitting in her eyes.
Lena nodded her head. "Mhm. It's actually quite simple, really. I'm not going to travel with the Doctor anymore." Avalon blinked pretty face at first, surprised by the sudden decision. "But I want you to continue doing so."
"Um...excuse me?" Avalon turned her attention to the Doctor to see what he had to say on the matter.
"Lena's good at making points, Ava," the Doctor cleared his throat, prepared to receive snaps and shouts for agreeing with the choice Lena made.
"Sorry, the both of you want me to leave my sister behind? Why on Earth would I ever do that!?"
"Because it's high time you stopped taking care of me and start living your life," Lena had the answer within the second. She was adamant this time to get the point across Avalon's head. "I'm sick, yes, but it is a controlled illness and I have doctors to take care of me. You have put your life on hold for me and the rest of our family for far too long. It stops today. We are all grown up, Avalon. It's time to let go."
Avalon was nothing short but stunned to hear Lena say all that. "I don't...I...Lena?"
Lena raised her head, clearly determined. "I'm not going to travel anymore because I don't feel like it's where I belong."
"Even though I've said she's always welcomed," the Doctor added and Lena nodded in acknowledgment.
"This is the choice I had made before I died in that other time line. The TARDIS is amazing but...it's just not my place," Lena reiterated. "But it's yours, Avalon. I know it is. So you go and you travel...and send me a postcard every now and then."
Avalon was hurt, of course she was, and Lena saw it. The ginger saddened up as a consequence and when she spoke, her next words were apologetic. "I didn't mean to annoy you, Lena-"
"Avalon, it's not that-"
"I just don't want to lose you like we lost Mum," Avalon lowered her arms still holding the letter she found. "I love you Lena, and I never want anything to happen to you."
Lena smiled and walked up to her sister to give her the biggest hug possible. "I know that, silly. You have a very big heart and from now on I'm going to make sure that its content. Truly content." She pulled away to meet Avalon's gaze. "I talked to Dad about it and he's on board."
"I guess there's no choice then, huh?" Avalon lightly chuckled. "Is that alright with you, Doctor?"
The man was already smiling. "I have a few places we could try…"
The idea of travelling made Avalon swell with excitement. It was something she'd always wanted to do but because of her family's situation she never got to live out. Now, now it was different, but there was also something else that might be pushing her to accept Lena's command.
"Okay then," she finally agreed out loud. "But now I'd like a word with you, Doctor."
The Doctor's face fell and his entire body stiffened. "Am I in trouble?"
"Well, you blew up the world but then put it back together so no, you're not. But I just need to tell you something."
Lena was all smiling because her plan worked. "I'll leave you then!" she happily returned to the ballroom.
Avalon watched her sister disappear into the building before deciding to speak again. Without a word, she held out the folded letter to the Doctor.
His eyes flickered from her to the paper and in no time was confused. "Am I...am I supposed to take it?" she nodded her head. "It's for me?"
"Uh, no, it's for me...apparently," Avalon watched him finally take it and unroll it.
'Dear Avalon, I know this is strange and probably confusing but it is imperious that you listen to me. You must remain with the Doctor for your own safety. Bad things are coming, and they will be coming for you and all your friends.'
The Doctor's mouth closed and opened several times, much to Avalon's amusement, as he failed to understand where this message got off giving such an obscure warning. "Where did you get this?"
"I just found it on the bench!" Avalon gestured to the dusty, white bench behind her. "It was right there!"
"Did you see anybody, then?"
"Does it look like I saw anybody?"
The Doctor frowned and rolled the letter back up. "Okay, well, we can't jump to any conclusions about this. It could just be someone playing a trick."
"It's got to be," Avalon crossed her arms. "I mean, it doesn't make sense, does it?"
The Doctor could tell that despite her calm exterior, there was an inkling of fear starting inside her. "Just...for the time being, I think it is best if you come along with me."
"But what if it's not?" she asked, her eyes briefly flickering to the ballroom. "What if they come for my family?"
"Listen, by the looks of it, their main point was to get to you...we're just along for the ride," the Doctor did not make her feel better and he knew it. He walked up to her and comfortingly rubbed her arms. "We'll figure if this is just a trick or not. Trust me, okay?"
"Okay," she nodded. It wasn't a very difficult thing to trust in him, after all. She felt safe with him no matter what.
The Doctor smiled at her and startled her by taking her hand. "Would you like to dance?" It didn't appear that she believed him because she looked around like he'd been asking someone else. "I meant you, red," the Doctor laughed. "I've danced with everyone except for you...though Rory didn't seem to like it very much."
Avalon snickered. "I bet he didn't."
"Complete the set, then?"
Avalon's smile faded a little as she sighed. "Um, listen…" she slowly took her hand from his. "I think it's no secret that a lot of Amy's family disapproves of me, um...I'd rather not be the center of their attention."
"But I thought Avalon Reynolds just didn't care?" the Doctor playfully scrutinized her face.
"I don't," she agreed, "But this is Amy and Rory's day. I'm not ruining it just to make a point."
"C'mon, I think they know you enough not to care. Dance?" he took her hand again. "Don't worry, I can teach you how."
That made Avalon laugh a genuine, teasing laugh. It made the Doctor smile as he pulled them towards the ballroom.
Since it was a slow dance, Avalon found herself a bit nervous as she took position for a dance. She'd danced to regular music in clubs with Mels and Amy, (when they'd sneak in with fake ID's), but never actual slow dances. Like she said before, no one ever asked her for fear of the talks from people so she'd never had the chance for a proper dance.
"I don't..." she became even more nervous as she thought more on it.
"I don't hear any talks," the Doctor whispered to her as they started to sway to the music.
"Give them a couple of minutes, they'll come up with something," she kept her gaze down, "They did for you earlier."
"Oh, I bet they did," the Doctor smirked, not at all perturbed with it, "But I was having fun, so I don't care in the least."
Avalon looked up and smiled a bit, teasing actually, "You did look ridiculous, though. I just want that to be clear. I need it to be clear."
"Ridiculously fun, though," he corrected.
She rolled her eyes, "Call it whatever you like, but it was ridiculous. Kids are going to be dancing that stupid dance you taught them for months!"
"I'll be glad to give them more lessons."
"No you will not," she shook her head, chuckling to herself.
"Look at that, you've forgotten your nervousness and the 'talks' of the people," the Doctor 'discreetly' smirked about it.
"Guess I did," she acknowledged, "You're good at distracting, you know. And not that bad of a slow dancer, I'm shocked."
"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me either," he tapped her nose and smiled back.
"Guess I don't..." she acknowledged it without a thought. A couple moments passed in silence until Avalon looked up at him and smiled, "I never said..."
"Said what?" the Doctor blinked, genuinely confused.
"You did impress me. Since the first trip I took with you...you got me," she smiled so genuinely the Doctor had no idea what to do nor say. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, but a good kind. "I am so impressed by you, Doctor."
"I...thank you..." the Doctor cleared his throat, more awkwardly than he would have liked. Why couldn't he get himself together!?
"And, I'd also like to thank you, for real this time, for giving me the opportunity to travel with my sister."
The Doctor nodded his response and smiled, "A chance to travel with the Ponds and Reynolds? How can I possibly give that up?"
She blushed without realizing it and moved to rest her head on his shoulder, never even thinking about the murmurs of the guests anymore. She felt quite content where she was.
~ 0 ~
Upon seeing the Reynolds regathering for a final talk on what would be happening over the next couple months, the Doctor took opportunity to quietly slip out of the reception room. He wanted get back to the TARDIS to get a little bit of work done with the mysterious enemy that had taken over the entire box when Avalon and River were inside. He figured it would be good to get a head-start before Avalon joined him. He admitted that he was a bit excited to have a companion that would be sticking around for a while. He was certain the Ponds would want some time along as newlyweds anyways.
"Did you dance?" a voice startled him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see River standing a couple feet from him, "Well, you always dance at weddings, don't you?"
"You tell me," he challenged.
"Spoilers," she smirked.
He sighed and pulled out her journal then handed it back to her, "The writing's all back, but I didn't peek."
"Thank you."
The Doctor also took out her vortex manipulator for her, "Are you married, River?" he suddenly wondered.
"Are you asking?" she mused as she put the manipulator on her wrist.
"Yes."
"Yes."
He blinked, "No, hang on. Did you think I was asking you to marry me, o- o-or asking if you were married?"
"Idiot," she murmured and sighed, "Someone's not gonna be very happy if she learns about this."
"Who?"
"Spoilers," she shrugged.
The Doctor sighed, "River...who are you?"
"You're going to find out very soon now," she conceded, swallowing hard, "And I'm sorry, but that's when everything changes."
She reached for her manipulator but the Doctor stopped her with a call. He pulled out the folded letter Avalon had found and waved it in the air. "Did you write this?"
For a second, there was a brief falter in River, but if it had been real it'd been wiped away in the next second. "Me? Messing with the timeline? You told me never to."
"River…" the Doctor was not playing jokes.
"I must be going," River waved and activated her manipulator, disappearing in a flash.
"That woman..." He wouldn't even bother with that right now. He unlocked the TARDIS, stepping inside and dancing his way up to the console.
He didn't get much work started when he heard the doors reopening and looked up to see Amy walking in, "Oi! Where are you off to?" she called, "Finished dancing with Avalon yet?" she smirked.
"Shut up," the Doctor pointed without looking at her.
"Oh c'mon, we haven't even had a snog in the shrubbery yet," she teased just as the doors re-opened.
"Amy!" Rory gave the call.
"Just one last tease," she laughed.
"That'll be the day," Avalon entered behind Rory, with Lena, "The day Amy Pond, er Williams, stops flirting will be the end of the world."
"Oi, says the biggest flirt in the universe," Amy scoffed.
"Am not," Avalon frowned.
"Are too!"
"Anyways," Lena covered Avalon's mouth while Rory did the same to Amy, "Big brother, I asked my Dad if I could take one trip with you and he said it was fine. Can I come?"
"My baby sister is asking if she can come?" the Doctor let out a small laugh, "C'mon, Lena, you can stay forever if you'd like!"
Lena smiled softly, "No, I think I'll be fine with one trip," she nodded.
Lena made it clear now that she was not content with the traveling about and danger. It just wasn't her style. Of course, it didn't mean she wanted to give it up completely. She'd grown to love the Doctor as a true 'big brother' and never wanted to give him up. She was simply going to take trips sporadically.
"So, where exactly are we going?" Avalon pushed Lena's hand from her mouth.
"Was actually planning on getting some work done..." the Doctor began but Rory cut him off.
"You just saved the whole of space and time. Take the evening off. Maybe a bit of tomorrow."
"I'm with Rory," Amy nodded.
"Space and time isn't safe yet. The TARDIS exploded for a reason. Something drew the TARDIS to this particular date, and blew it up," the Doctor reminded and headed over to the ringing phone, "Why? And why now? The Silence, whatever it is, is still out there, and I have to...excuse me a moment," he answered the call, "Hello. Oh! Hello. I'm sorry, this is a very bad line. No, but that's not possible. She was sealed into the Seventh Obelisk. I was at the prayer meeting. Well, no, I get that it's important. An Egyptian goddess loose on the Orient Express…in space! Give us a mo," he looked up at the group, "Sorry, something's come up. This will have to be goodbye. Ava, you ready to go?"
"Let's see, I've got my twin, my best friend and my flirty friend," Avalon nodded, "Definitely ready."
"Off we go!" Lena cheered and pulled Avalon up to the console, "With newlyweds, that'll be interesting."
"And fun," Rory added, making them all laugh.
The Doctor looked at them all and beamed, picking up the phone again and speaking into it, "Don't worry about a thing, Your Majesty. We're on our way," and the TARDIS was off for the newest of adventures.
~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~
A/N: I am SO happy to write in Lena again, she really is the sweet OC of my batch!! Aaaaand so starts the letter business...yikes. :)
#doctor who#11th doctor#ocappreciation#ocapp#doctor who fics#11th doctor fics#dw imagine#dw imagines#11th doctor imagine#11th doctor imagines#doctor who imagines#doctor who imagine#amy pond#rory williams#river song#oc: Avalon Reynolds#oc: Lena Reynolds#fic: stars dance
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Simple Rules Rule: A Confession of Human-Made Misery
This is real. We are stuck in our homes and breathing through our narrow windows, worrying to go out, just in case that death might give us a random visit outdoors. Corona is real, physical and probably a touchable disease. A world-wide catastrophe is caused by this nasty creature, however, we wise human beings are aspiring to show our strength in the battle. But this has just popped into sight, while there were many other diseases out there, ones we were simply unable to see. Their symptoms have been long misunderstood and been referred to other causes. Their consequent effects have been so subtle to address and you may at the end of the next paragraphs, oppose me aggressively due to calling them a “disease”.
I haven’t been able to write and to live in the past few months, or even years. So, this is my most desperate effort to alleviate the pain of resting for more than a hundred days (How dare you want to have a life-time of rest and joy! That’s unbearable). But that’s not how it looks from inside. At least, I am not relieved of a long-time working agenda by this rest. On the other hand, a futile struggle of thoughts has been constantly happening in my mind, draining all the energy and leaveing no other option for better muscles to enjoy (every other part that can feel the real touch of joy, not this imaginary, perception-constrained and deluded machine we call “brain”).
I am asking you to dive with me, hand-in-hand in the endless ocean of thought. You already have done so, sorry not inform you early on. I do it alone everyday, but a companion will probably save me from draining, or maybe we will be swallowed by the monster, which is yet another great adventure. So here we are, watching the wild waves and deep dark blue eyes of our gorgeous friend who invites us to jump off the cliff and embrace her. The charm is irresistible.
Have you ever been re-engineering your self? Have you been successful in identifying your core drives? Sadly, we have a disadvantage of not having a tablet that shows what drives our emotions, in comparison to hosts in the Westworld TV series. Just the same drives that push you in the re-engineering room, prevent you from touching them. What a misery!
The sad ones among us, are consumed by the over-thinking virus. An incurable disease as old as the human consciousness and unfortunately the most ignored one! That’s even a larger misery that we, wise human beings, have stopped finding remedies for such a terrible illness. I guess it has always been the selfish healthy who ignored the danger carried by this virus, and since it was less contagious than the Corona one, they just let it out to infect the vulnerable and bring them slow decay. Who cares? Do you care for the drug addicted up until they cause you any harm or maybe infect you? No, you don’t. Take off your altruistic masks and let your inner monster be exposed.
Overthinking is paralyzing. It’s the lamp draining all the car battery and leaving you helpless in the middle of nowhere. It’s a process that consumes all the CPU and your systems becomes unable to handle simple tasks, like writing into Microsoft Word, as I’m doing now. Happily, my laptop is not traumatized that way and we can still put a few words together. But on certain days, we are both down. He is unable to play a single music track and I am as well unable to do anything other than watching him fail! As a former engineer, I some times make comparisons of the real world entities, with electronic parts, and only my fellow engineer friends get the point. On an expert level, one of my friends, with the same super-atheist level as me, usually quotes from important Muslim figures like Ali-ibn-Abi-Taleb to clarify his points. Can’t deny I love this offensive level of humor.
“We aren’t yet drown, there is hope.” That’s a lie! Let us go deeper to see how scientists and psychologists have failed us for centuries. This is a nasty monster who offers comfort getting away from him, while he’s still breathing out there. And the only remedy offered by our fancy science has been ignorance, let alone the chemical anti-depressants that treat us like the miserable pets we are. I’m in no position to criticize their efforts and not certainly ignore them. Ignorance is their game, not mine. They have been quite successful in curing the mentally paralyzed, but the case has not been fully resolved. The symptoms are vanished by force, but the inner cause lives. Usually these treatments take a long time and there’s still the possibility of a relapse, which puts the ill no other option than taking a life-time increasing dose of pills. Let’s hope they are not changing us in unforeseen ways. The vocabulary these fellow scientists and coaches use includes certain words like “Letting go”, “Vulnerability”, “Adaptation”, “Fate”, “Belief” and finally “Hope”. The most disgusting package of the human-made world of misery!
Indeed, it should be a simple issue. Since it’s rooted in a single monster, all explanations converge. Last year for example, I watched three movies from the amazing writer Charlie Kaufman, “Synecdoche New York”, “Adaptation” and “Anomalisa”. They were truly brilliant works of art that made me fall in love with Charlie’s works and for the first time I printed someone’s picture and sticked it onto the wall.
They were passionate moments. I tried to find every writing of him, watch all his speeches and movies. That’s how love works, and please spare me a lot of your time if you’d like to know more on how it works. You’ll love the love’s way and that puts you in an exponentially growing loop of feelings. But please don’t fall in love with your thoughts because you don’t want to occupy your brain with an exponentially growing demon. Do it with your heart, which as simply as possible “denies any thought!”
The secret behind my love story with Charlie was simple. He made confessions in an honest and vulnerable way. In his movies, you do really feel how characters fail in understanding the dynamics of their lives, despite their desperate efforts to understand. Caden Cotard in Synecdoche New York for example (named after the Cotard delusion, that one thinks he’s already dead), spends a life-time to build a massive theater representing routine human lives of every actor, letting them play their own story to show the secrets of real life. He wants to decipher them in a truthful way for his own comfort and in the eyes of the audience. But he fails, and Charlie portrays his failure with the ending of his life, having lost every endeavor, every precious meaning and finally “fading into oblivion”. Caden chose titles that could represent his huge theater over and over, but could never feel contempt with any. “Simulacrum”, “Flawed light of love and grief” and “The Obscure Moon Lighting an Obscure World” were among them. This challenge of understanding was likewise presented in his Adaptaion movie, written out of Susan Orlean’s “The Orchid Thief”. The name speaks itself.
When you adapt, you surrender. There’s no radical motive left. Nothing exceptional. You realize “That’s how it should work” when there’s no other option. Brené Brown introduces vulnerability as a symptom of courage. That is stepping into the unknown with all its uncertainties and possible failures, because there’s no other way. Our rational mind is unable to assess all uncertainties and alternatives. The more you push it towards a whole understanding, you find your self more troubled and helpless. But then we invent Courage, which says “If you can’t win with your mind, win with your heart”. If you knew there were strategies in a war that can put soldiers out of the field, you would definitely do, unless you are suffering from another disease called religion, which is irrelevant for now.
Let’s sort all other wise responses of our fellow intellectuals. Letting go of thought, as prescribed in many East Asian philosophies, stands as the most naïve one. Accepting the foolish concept of fate, as the banner of victimhood. Belief and faith as the food for fantasies. And finally, HOPE, the most deceptive force, has appeared in many literary works, paintings, songs and even social movements over time. Hope is like a temporary relief, a small bondage to stop bleeding while the wound is right there. I think we play with hope and protect ourselves when fears rush through the door. That’s a good game by the way. I have been dreaming for many months now, that I can bring this deceptive force back into myself and I’ve failed. After all, if the wound is meant to be there, why not using a bondage? Let’s decorate it with fancy colors, turn it into a piece of clothing and enjoy. The idea of decorating something immovable seems familiar, doesn’t? How many societies, books and doctrines have been built upon? But surely, we know that hope has the same rotten roots as courage. We project success in the future when we have no idea what is going to happen. Yet of course, why not?
The world grows unknown as you grow older. A world-wide false expression is that the elder, given their experience, understand the world better, while they only learn their limitations over time. That’s all. As kids, we falsely believe in our knowledge about the surrounding things and aging comes with the enlightenment of limitations. That’s why the elder hesitates in making decisions while the kid makes in an instant. I envy myself in five years ago, when I bravely made decisions and stood firm supporting them. That’s braveness my friend, however foolish it might seem.
Realm of creation is the realm of god. It’s stepping into the dark, courageously, anticipating various outcomes. That’s how Dr. Rollo May defines creation in his book “The courage to Create”. Once, in a long discussion with Mr. Zia, we both agreed in the comfort of accepting the melancholy caused by fears since it was god-like to be brave. And that’s true, we all like to be gods - The omniscient and powerful creature we invented in our most profound fictions. In him, the humankind has invested his most wild and selfish dreams. But it seems that Dr. May forgot the fact that gods are supposed to be free from constraints like time and limitations of knowledge. Fear of failure and unknown does not apply to those who know the consequences of every act, and believe me, that’s super boring!
We enjoy far more than gods do. The concept of courage is coupled with the concept of unknown. There is no courageous being who knows everything. Besides, when there’s unlimited time and resources available, no penalty for failure and no vision for success, you won’t feel anxious because you can always test other alternatives in your infinite life. How many times have you used cheat codes in a game and later felt regret because infinite cash destroyed the joy of earning it? Silly gods work with cheat codes.
We want wise men who can tell us the best scenarios in our daily decision making. They should be free from feelings and emotional attachments but decide best under time constraints- Time breeds anxiety when the process of reaching a conclusion takes long, and anxiety is a weakening force, if not a stopping one. But that will neither be humane nor god anymore. We have created another fiction, a constrained super-hero. It does not exist.
Let’s finish our miserable search for role-models and take a look at our real surroundings. All we own, is a bounded rationality limited by many elements. The world is complex. Events are the same and so does the relationship between things. Yet, simple rules rule. We know joy is out there and so is sadness. We will someday experience success and fail the other day. But is it a mess? Some of the successful among us may believe so. I guess because they are a mess themselves and have won by chance. Remember, sad losers who lost by chance, never express themselves. Contents published out there are mostly coming from fool naïve successful folks, who in their own terms were gifted with intelligence and wise decisions. Only a true loser can defeat them if he gets a say out there. Otherwise winning by chance turns into a culture and idiots will be ruling us. Oh, am I a bit late to say so?
There’s much left to say but I’m tired of writing. It’s 9PM already in Tehran and we’re in lockdown. Such a terrible complicated time to write about these simple rules. I study economic complexity in my thesis, and everyone should know that most complex behaviors arise from simple rules. Bounded rationality is too one of the core concepts. Actors in a complex system are not gods, but they can feel contempt with their limited decisions. The simple rule is that as humans, we can be contempt. We can accept our boundaries and learn few universal rules about love, expectations, happiness and staying sharp. The more we try extending our decision-making logic, the more we will grow weary of time and greedy of the results. So, am I letting go of all the heavy thought process I’ve defended up to now? No. That’s a gift. A wise man’s approach that should be treated with honor and be understood, while he learns and accepts his limitations. I am reading a book called “Simple Heuristics that Makes us Smart” with a group of friends and most of these notes were inspired by that. Hopefully, I can share a lot more about how these techniques could alleviate the pain of understanding while giving us good reasons to stop endless venturing in the unknown like gods! I wish to be contempt being a human.
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Échappé / Chapter 1 (Branjie) - DenDenMonMon
Échappé: Slipping movement in which a dancer starts in a closed position and ends in an opened one.
For: svpermodel
A/N:
Hi. Hello. Welcome!
So I have never written Branjie before, please, be patient since this is my first attempt. This was a crazy idea that a friend started ranting about on Twitter. I couldn’t help myself and just HAD to bring it to life. Even when I did significant research on them, there’s a huge chance you are about to read a version of Branjie that exists only in my head, tweaked a little by said friend.
Also, I’m Trixya trash, through and through, so expect a lot of that in the background.
Enjoy!
AO3 Link
Échappé
Chapter one
“You know, you can just admit that we are lost.” Brooke laughed dryly from the backseat. Her big sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose slightly. She pushed them back into place with a smile pasted on her lips.
Ben looked at her through the rear view mirror, the single curl bouncing on his forehead to the movement. He had his lips twisted to the side in a cheeky grin, gladly welcoming the friendly banter.
“If you must know, I am very sure of where we are. I just need to find a street that actually goes down.”
Brooke didn’t bother in replying. Her eyes rolled on their own, even when they were hidden behind the black shades. She changed her crossed legs, switching to left over right, and looked out the window.
She liked Los Angeles, she liked it a lot. Sure, she used to live in, probably, the biggest metropolis in the country, but this wasn’t her calm and relaxed Canada. Downton LA was ugly, dirty, dangerous, and she loved every bit of it. That was the whole charm about it. She could stare at those old buildings all day. They seemed to belong in so many different eras and times, yet, they coexisted in harmony, creating this mix-match look that somehow fit perfectly together. The sidewalks were always crowded with people from all over the world, in all these different colors and shapes, and speaking so many languages. They were always walking fast and never waiting for the red hand to change to cross the street.
The car finally went left. There were honking sounds following the movement, and Brooke was sure that her driver had taken an unauthorized turn.
She held onto the handle on the door with a smile, amused by the way her body slid on the seat. The smile stayed there. Even when Ben kept mumbling complaints under his breath, Brooke couldn’t help but smile. She was happy. She had traveled the world and eaten the most amazing food; she had lived in exotic places and fallen in love with wildly interesting people, but she had never felt so content in her life. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, at the very happy thought.
Brooke Lynn Hytes had just turned thirty, and her life was right where she wanted it to be. It hadn’t been easy, but she wouldn’t change a single thing about it. In a way, she liked how she had to fight for what she wanted, it gave her a certain perspective on life she could only obtain through struggle. She celebrated every victory and embraced every failure. Learned and grew from every experience, appreciated every achievement, and made sure to keep a quick and smart sense of humor; which her mom had taught her. Mom’s are always right after all.
She didn’t like to consider herself a lucky person. Everything Brooke had, she had worked for it. Nothing had been given to her for free, and opportunities had most definitely never simply fallen into her lap. When it came to her family, though, she knew that God, or the universe, or merely luck, had worked in her favor, landing her in the most amazing environment for any kid to grow up in. She, and all of her siblings, were always given the chance to be free, express themselves, go after their goals and trust their instincts. That’s how she managed to follow her passion and turn the life she dreamed about into a reality.
Being a ballerina had always been her aspiration. There was a world of a difference between her current self and that dreamy girl - the girl who would take advantage of any flat surface to try and pull dance moves she had just seen on TV. Brooke remembered being in her shared bedroom, pushing her sister’s stuff to the side so she could have more space to practice. Her legs were weak and untrained.
She couldn’t help but touch her toned thigh through the fabric of her skirt. Her body had truly come a long way.
As much as her parents wanted to help her to pursue that dream, money had been tight, and dance academies have never been cheap.
Brooke had fond memories of small dance groups she went to after class, at a tiny community center across from the school. For only a few bucks a week, she could dance with her friends for an hour per day, guided by an overly-enthusiastic Zumba instructor who really liked children. Those were enough credentials for the director of the place, who allowed her to teach. Brooke had no complaints, though. Those were her favorite dance years, before she was ‘discovered’ - when dancing was all about having fun, when dancing wasn’t a career. She had to admit, it was a job she loved, but a job nonetheless.
On the street, a mother angrily pulled her child by the arm. The girl seemed to walk a little too slow for the mom’s taste. Blonde curls created a jumping curtain around the girl’s face, who deliberately refused to move faster. Brooke saw so much of herself in the small child, the stubborn resemblance making her chuckle in her seat.
“See? Told you I knew where we were,” Ben said triumphantly. His words only meant he had finally found the right route again. He was a very talkative man, and just then did Brooke realize he had been quiet for a long time, probably trying to figure out his away around that part of the city.
The thought brought a new question to her mind. “DeLa, where are we? Is this still downtown?”
Her eyes once again met Ben’s through the mirror, what looked almost like an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, but according to this thing…” His fingers tapped on the GPS integrated in the dashboard. “We only need to go a few blocks down, enter the ten, and we’ll be on our merry way.” The silly smile was obnoxious, mainly because it was genuine. Brooke couldn’t stand the idea of someone being so happy all the time, but leave it to BenDeLaCreme to be able to pull it off.
Once he’d gotten some sense of direction, Ben went back to his usual self, giving random information he knew about the buildings around them, and how the government’s money only went to certain parts of the city, leaving this side completely forgotten.
After taking a right turn, the street grew smaller, the four lines merging into one and slowing them down.
Brooke didn’t welcome the traffic very well. The day was hot and she could feel her shirt sticking to her back. She ran a hand around her ear, pushing nonexistent loose strands back into place. Her blonde hair was perfectly tied in a bun at the back of her head, just like a prima ballerina should always wear it. Not a strand fell out of place, ever, she was always careful about that. Sitting in a car for so long, with nothing to do but entertain Ben’s pointless conversation, forced her hands to play with imaginary hair.
Suddenly, her eyes were pulled to the scene taking place across the street, her back straightened and her jaw dropped dramatically. She took the round sunglasses away from her face, just to have a clear view of what was happening in the corner of the park.
Her flat hand hit the front seat a few times with more force than she intended. “Ben, pull over.”
“What, now? Where? Why?”
“Oh, God, just do it!”
The cars around them were not moving much, traffic finally doing some good for them. Ben easily moved out of the way and found a spot to parallel park. The tires of the SUV hadn’t fully stopped when Brooke was opening her door and stepping down.
Her high heels hitting the pavement were barely audible above the loud music and inevitable sounds of children playing around her. She had to step on grass but she didn’t even care, she kept going and going, trying to balance the best she could in those shoes, until she reached her destination.
A group of young girls had a speaker perched on a bench. The round tube shined bright colors that immediately got drowned by the sunrays. Brooke didn’t recognize the music, but she liked the Latin flavor it had. Her mind was instantly thinking of intricate ballroom dances that could be performed to that song. Nonetheless, the girls dancing to it had a very different idea. Their hips moved to a synchronized rhythm, even when they were clearly freestyling. Each had their own take on the song, the beats awakening unique moves for each of their limbs but, at the same time, they clearly worked together. They looked like a perfectly structured dance team.
The song ended and the five girls giggled happily. They hugged and shared high-fives, proud of the creation they had just given life to.
She didn’t even think about it, Brooke clapped her hands slowly but loudly. She knew the smile on her face, open-mouthed and all teeth, probably looked stupid, but she wouldn’t do anything to hide it. What she had just witnessed wasn’t like anything she had ever seen in her life before. The way those girls had danced, so effortlessly, yet so accurate in technique, made her feel a certain warmth in her stomach she couldn’t really identify. She had come alive by their little performance, her heart was still beating to the rhythm of the song she didn’t even know.
All eyes went to her. The girls stopped their celebration and looked up at her. Brooke didn’t know, but they were not particularly used to see tall ladies in black pencil skirts, fancy white shirts, and sky-high stilettos. They stared at her with big questioning eyes as they lined up a few steps away from her.
“Hi!” She finally let out. It was supposed to be kind and welcoming, trying to ease the tension, but excitement made her almost yell the word at them. “You guys are so good! Are you part of a dance group?”
They looked among each other, until one of them nodded her head. If someone had instructed these girls not to talk to strangers, they should be really proud right now.
In yet another attempt to try and be friendly, Brooke bent her knees and placed her hands on her thighs, trying, unsuccessfully, to be at their eye level. She ended up sitting on her heels instead.
“You really are amazing! I wish I could dance like you, would you teach me?” Her ears filled with the innocent sound of girly giggles. Her smile only grew wider.
One of the girls, who Brooke had right away recognized as the leader, eyed her from the side. Her stare was analytical, scanning her up and down, and actually pondering if she could be taught. “I don’t think you could do it,” was her professional opinion.
Brooke’s jaw was somewhere near the floor, partly in exaggeration to entertain the children, but mostly shocked at the unfiltered comment of the girl. She couldn’t be more than ten years old and yet she carried herself like a fully grown adult. Her clothes were colorful and her frizzy hair threatened to break out of the braid adorning the side of her head. Her skin was dark and, mixed with the slightly detectable accent, Brooke deduced she at least had some Latin descendance. No wonder she had no issue speaking her mind.
Just when she was about to ask them who was their teacher, the question answered itself. They all heard a voice yelling from behind them. The girls froze for a moment, understanding the admonishing words barked at them in Spanish.
Then came a vision in red, black and denim shorts.
“Who is you and what the fuck you doing talking to my babies?”
Brooke’s eyes widened. She crossed her arms on top of her chest with a stern look on her face. “Excuse me, maybe you shouldn’t curse in front of the children.” Her statement came out more like a question, almost asking if the girl standing in front of her understood the damage.
There was a thin braid at the top of the girl’s head, adorned with rhinestones along the way; the rest of her hair went all the way down to her waist in natural waves. The long red curls bounced as she shook her head. “Huh? You serious, girl? How I talk is none of your business. Thank you very much. Plus, they know better than to repeat those words, right, girls? Or you wanna get’cha little asses whooped?”
They all shook their heads, amused smiles spread across their faces, indicating that the words directed to them meant no harm.
Honestly, there was something intimidating about the young woman standing in front of her. Brooke had to admit as much. It wasn’t her size, she was tiny, but her presence was grand. She wore high heel boots that went all the way up to her thighs, still a long distance from where her tiny shorts ended; and that black crop top hid barely enough of her chest. Her silver hoop earrings, that pretty much rested on her shoulders, caught the sun, blinding Brooke for a moment, and making her realize she had done nothing but stare at her for too long.
“Ya done?” The girl asked, her long lashes blinking rapidly. “You need me to turn around or somethin’?”
That was enough to fully snap Brooke out of her observations. She shook her head to physically exist that weird daze. “I apologize. Hello, I’m Brooke, Brooke Lynn Hytes.” She smiled and extended her hand, trying to be as cordial as possible.
The laugh that followed her words, she hadn’t expected. “What kind of name is that? You from New York?”
“I’m from Toronto,” Brooke offered, completely aware of the other girl’s chain of thoughts, and not falling for it. She was too used to be bullied by the unintended pun placed on her name, she had learned a rather delicate way to deal with it.
“Your parents wanted to live there or some shit? What’s the deal with that, bitch?”
That last word had thrown her off guard. Brooke was used to hearing it among her teammates, it was a term of endearment, usually the start of fun banter. Having it fall from the lips of a stranger made her feel uneasy, even when the few letters carried no harm in her direction. She retracted her hand, letting it land awkwardly on her hip.
“Yeah, okay, listen, child, don’t go all serious on me, okay? It was a stupid joke, alright? No offense to mommy and daddy and their dream vacation spot. I’m Vanessa,” she said as she closed the gap between them, grabbing Brooke’s hand without permission and shaking it at an unusual speed. “Nice to meet you, Brooke.”
Her shoulders squared up. Brooke was a strong, independent, successful woman, she was always cool and collected. There was no plausible explanation as to why this young woman, with caramel skin glistening in the harsh sun, was making her feel so… insecure?
Vanessa let go of Brooke’s hand, theatrically placing it back against her hip. “Alright, Imma ask you one more time. Are you, like, some kind of fancy-ass predator here to steal my girls and sell them to slavery, or…?”
“What?! No!” Brooke replied shocked, her voice tinted with indignation. She brought both her hands up to her hips, stretching her back and neck to at least feel some leverage, even if it was just her height. “Just, I saw the kids dancing and was taken away by their talent.” She craned her neck to look behind Vanessa, where the girls were patiently waiting for the grown-ups to be done speaking. “Are they your students?”
“Yeah.” Vanessa smiled proudly, directing her attention to them for a moment. “And they’re late for their stretching class!” Her high heeled boot was raised, pretending to send a kick their way, even though they were too far behind. “You better drag ya little asses inside before Miss Yvie comes and fucking skin you alive or some weird shit like that. You know she’s into all that freaky stuff.”
The girls ran in playful delight. Brooke followed them with her eyes until they reached a small building in the middle of the park. It looked familiar, she had never been on that part of the city, yet she felt like the construction was something she had visited before.
“Is that… your community center?”
Suddenly, Vanessa’s eyes seemed to light up. “Oh, shit! You are that-that–” her hand flailed in front of her as her brain tried to find the right noun, coming out empty. “The lady that’s supposed to give us the money, right?! The government help we applied for!”
Before Brooke could reply, before she could deny the title just given to her, Vanessa was stomping her way back into the building, throwing words into the air that Brooke didn’t catch. Her strides were short but powerful. The red and black plaid shirt that covered her bottom bounced to the rhythm of her hips in a hypnotizing way.
“Well, c’mon!”
It took Vanessa to yell over her shoulder to take Brooke out of her trance. She walked with fast steps behind her, unsuccessfully trying to catch up. She looked down, unable to stop herself from comparing her light steps against the forceful ones of the powerhouse in front of her. Of course, Brooke had to remind herself that she was a ballerina. She had been taught her entire life to be graceful. Feet should not make a sound when hitting the ground, that was one of the primary rules. So, she decided to stay true to her learnings and slowed down the pace, leaving Vanessa to stand by the front door for a few more seconds, waiting for her to reach it.
The first thing Brooke spotted when she walked in was a big sign next to the front desk. It read ‘We can save the center!’ in big blue letters against white background. It had a thermometer drawn on one side. The marks on it were set in intervals of five thousand, going from zero to fifty, and it had a big dollar sign at the top. Red marker covered the bottom, barely reaching the number ten.
Behind the desk was a blonde girl with big hair, overdrawn lips, extremely pink cheeks, and way too much mascara on her heavy lashes. Her complete attention was set on the phone in her hand as she popped pink bubbles of gum.
“This is Trixie,” Vanessa informed Brooke as they walked by her. “She helps with the makeup. I have no idea what she’s doing here right now. Don’t pay attention to her, she won’t pay attention to you, anyways.”
In response, the girl lifted her middle finger, but didn’t look up from her phone.
Vanessa took her around the place, showing Brooke the small indoor basketball court, and the few craft rooms. She mentioned a pool at the back but that was being cleaned, so it was better not to see it now. They walked through a small gym, where generic work out equipment had been placed. Vanessa explained someone had built them from scratch using metallic waste from the construction site where he used to work.
Music could be heard when they reached the back of the place. Those were the multipurpose rooms. They used them to teach yoga, zumba, karate, and modern dance; which was Vanessa’s class. They stopped by the room with the loud music flowing. There were around twenty girls in there –including the ones she had seen at the park– each supporting themselves on their hands and bare feet, forming an arch with their backs. A thin young woman, with limbs that seemed to go on forever, and skin as smooth and rich as milk chocolate, corrected the girls and helped them place their backs in the right position.
The tour ended back at the front desk. “See? Don’t tell me it ain’t cute. This is such an important place for the community,” Vanessa spoke with such enthusiasm it was contagious. “Grandmas come knit while the kids play basketball or dance their booties off. This is not a nice neighborhood, you see? So we need good things. This is a really good thing and we would like to keep it. If you could, please, not sell it to those big companies that only care about shit like parking space, that would, you know, really help us a lot.”
Brooke blinked a couple of times, she had completely forgotten about the misunderstanding. She had been so wrapped up in the way Vanessa talked about the place, making her fall in love with it right from the start, that she never found a moment to clarify who she was. Learning that they could lose it broke her heart. And then she had to think of an easy way to let them know she was not the salvation they had been expecting… or maybe she was?
Her hand landed on the desk, the other one found its rightful place on her hip. “Umm, I don’t know how to say this, but… I can’t make the government help you.”
Vanessa looked around, her weight shifting from one foot to the other in clear annoyance. “I knew it! This fucking administration doesn’t give a shit about–”
Brooke lifted her hand, making Vanessa’s rant die on her lips. “But only because I don’t work for the government like you thought.”
“Ha!” A scream-like laugh came from behind them. “She’s got you, V!” Trixie said before getting up and walking away, not willing to waste her time on them anymore.
Vanessa’s jaw hung low in surprise. “Then why the fuck you made me give you a goddamn tour of the place?”
“I didn’t–” Brooke was unable to answer, Vanessa’s anger filling up the space around them.
“You showed here with all you-your big money shoes and executive clothes, looking all cah-ching, cah-ching, and you can’t even help us!”
Brooke was reaching the end of her patience. The palm of her hand landed loudly against the desk, regaining Vanessa’s attention. “Listen here. I never said I couldn’t help you, okay? If you could stop for one minute and pay attention. I direct a dance company–”
“Oh, Mary! You are fuckin’ competition, aren’t you? You are here to steal our moves! Nah ah. No, ma’am. Not on my watch, Momma. You better get going.” Vanessa’s index finger pointed towards the door, her arm fully extended, and her face showing nothing but fury.
Instead of exiting, Brooke took a few steps closer, towering her. The heat radiating from Vanessa’s body was tickling her skin. “I could help you,” she said slowly and carefully. “My company can make a generous donation so you can save this place.”
Vanessa didn’t even flinch, her feet hit the ground one at the time, her jaw was clenched, and her stare pierced right into Brooke’s soul. “We are not a charity. We don’t need no free money. Go, now.” The words came out low but full of force.
Brooke was not going to accept being treated like that. She looked up at the thermometer sign, spotting a date for the first time in the top left corner.
“See you in two months. I’ll love to see the demolition of this place.”
And, with that, she walked out the door, not even bothering to look back to see Vanessa’s reaction. The girl had just gotten on her bad side, and there was no turning back.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading and giving this story a chance, please don’t forget to let me know what you think.
#rpdr fanfiction#branjie#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#yvie oddly#trixie mattel#lesbian au#dance au#echappe#dendenmonmon#submission#bendelacreme
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new chapter of salt to spare is up!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655959/chapters/46016056
i haven’t opened ao3 for like three weeks but my last three brain cells finally managed to produce several sentences yay
Félix turned around to find Kagami gazing up a bland grey stairwell that seemed to be their only path. He sat down, panting furiously. Kagami was also gasping to catch her breath.
“I… I think we’ve lost them,” Félix chuckled, still out of breath. He could hear a faint pounding on the other side of the door. “We should probably go up, though, just to be on the safe side.”
Kagami nodded and began the climb.
If Félix was really paying attention, he would have noticed how many floors the building seemed to have and how they should’ve reached a roof right now. He’d only seen a three-or-four storey building outside, it shouldn’t have been that high. But Félix was far too focused on the stitch in his side (exercise was not his friend) to think of anything but the food he wanted to eat. Running made him ridiculously hungry. If only he had eaten some of that really good food back at Chloe’s party… food… yum…
“Félix!” Kagami exclaimed, pinching his arm to get him out of his reverie. “Snap out of it.”
“Huh?” Félix blinked and Félix followed tiredly after her. Ugh, stairs.
If Félix was really paying attention, he would have noticed how many floors the building seemed to have and how they should’ve reached a roof right about then. He’d only seen a three-or-four storey building outside, it shouldn’t have been that high. But unfortunately, Félix was far too focused on the stitch in his side (exercise was certainly not his friend) to pay any attention to think of anything but the food that his rumbling stomach would definitely like to eat. If only he had eaten some of the food back at Chloe’s party… food… yummy…
“Félix!” Kagami exclaimed, punching him in the arm and snapping Félix out of his reverie. He was still really hungry, though.
“Huh?” Félix blinked a few times and shook his head.
“The door, we’re at the top,” Kagami said impatiently, pulling open a grey door that Félix had simply walked past. She stalked outside and put a hand to her face to shield her eyes from the sunset. Félix followed her and let the door swing shut behind him. He could see another door on the opposite side of the roof that would lead them downstairs and to the ground again. Dragging himself along, he staggered to the other side of the roof and reached out for the doorknob.
Click.
Félix tried again. The door must have been faulty, there was no way it-
Click.
“Um… Kagami, I think we may have a slight, tiny problem here…” Félix’s voice sounded nervous even to his own ears.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Kagami called back. “How high up is this?”
“It’s not that high, it’s only four or so…” Félix turned around to find Kagami staring down the side of the building. He took a few steps towards her and saw a tiny red brick building on the street across them, what seemed to be miles down. “...Floors.”
“We got the wrong building? Seriously!?” Kagami groaned. “I climbed all that way up for nothing. At least we can get back down easily enough, though. I suppose going down is easier than going up.”
“Erm, well, uh, you see...” Félix rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I hate to say it, but unfortunately we’re not going anywhere.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Pound it!” The iconic fistbump marked the end of the akuma attack, and, having retrieved and purified the dark little butterfly, Ladybug threw up the spotted spray can and said the other iconic superhero cry: “Miraculous Ladybug!”
The torrential rain of ladybugs whirled around them in a flurry of red sparkles, enveloping the damage that the akuma had done and returning its henchmen to their normal selves.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Well, if we’re stuck here we might as well get to know each other,” Félix said breezily, sitting down and crossing his legs.
Kagami stared at him. “You’re not even going to try and get down?”
Félix raised his eyebrows and gestured to the edge of the rooftop. “I’d like to see you try.” This time he received a glare.
“No offence, but your outfit is far less… indispensable than mine.” The edge of her mouth curved slightly.
“Seriously? I’ll have you know that this suit is top of the line seasonal clothing designed by my uncle, Gabriel Agreste,” Félix puffed out his chest and stuck out his legs to show off the very plain suit he was boasting about.
Kagami snorted. “Gabriel Agreste isn’t even that good at designing, all his lines are boring.”
Félix winced. “I’m so glad he didn’t hear you say that.”
“Or what, he’d get the Gorilla to go after me?” Kagami held up her fists and held a mock fighting stance. “Come at me, you coward.” She punched the air and faked a kick in Félix’s direction. “Actually, I’d probably be better with a sabre.”
“Yikes, remind me not to get on your bad side,” Félix smiled. Kagami’s mouth curved again, then her expression went sour.
“My mother says I should be more dainty outside the fencing ring. She thinks that when I grow up I’ll marry the rich son of a family friend and that I shouldn’t get my hopes up for being a professional fencer. Apparently I should be more meek and mild, as she puts it, if I want any hope for a good husband.”
Félix grimaced. “That sounds horrible. You deserve better.”
“Don’t you dare pity me.” Kagami’s voice was toneless. “I may not have a decent mother, but I will always, always have my dignity.”
“I’m not,” Félix said gently, standing up. “But you sound like you could use a friend right now.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Kagami sounded a little choked up. But when Félix held out a hand to her and she took it, for the briefest moment, she smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~
“You know, m’lady, I think it would’ve been calmer if I’d just stayed home. I could be having a catnap right now, you know.” Chat Noir lounged his head lazily on Ladybug’s lap.
Ladybug wound a third finger into Chat’s golden hair, giggling at the light rumble that came from his chest. “Are you saying you’d rather be at home than with me?” She asked jokingly. “If I’m so unappreciated, I might as well leave, then, shall I?”
“No!” Chat exclaimed. He snatched Ladybug’s wrist just as she was about to pull it from his hair and he pressed it flat against his head. “Please don’t leave, Bugaboo,” he mewled.
Ladybug laughed. “Silly kitty,” she said fondly, ruffling his hair up. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re the best partner ever,” Chat announced, adding a decisive nod as if to persuade the imaginary crowds around them that out of the many superhero partners he’d had through his long experience, Ladybug had proved herself to be the only one worthy of the title.
“And I’m the luckiest lady in Paris,” Ladybug declared. “I mean, not to brag, but I kinda have the power of all of creation and anime on my side.”
Chat beamed up at her like the Chesire Chat. Ladybug mirrored him with a glint in her eyes. “You know what? I think a little exercise wouldn’t hurt.”
Quick as a flash, Ladybug removed her hand from Chat’s hair, ignoring his yelp of protest, and jumped off the roof that they were sitting on. “Catch me if you can!” She yelled over her shoulder. Chat Noir looked at her, aghast, before realizing she was getting away and snapping into action mode, getting on all fours and chasing her across the rooftops.
Ladybug laughed joyfully in the wind as she hooked her yo-yo around the nearest chimney, swung around and met Chat’s shocked face as she went straight past him in the opposite direction. She stuck her tongue out and waved to him as she soared through the sky, running away.
Chat smirked in her direction and vaulted on his baton after her, using all his energy to catch up until they were running side by side. They shared a devious look and Ladybug yelled: “First one to the Eiffel Tower wins!”
“You’re on,” Chat replied, practically galloping. He ducked to the side and sped around another building, travelling towards the Tower in elongated bounds.
Ladybug did similarly, swinging along like a monkey and catapulting herself through the air when she spotted two tiny figures sitting on top of one of Chloe’s father’s buildings. The thing was massive, she had no idea how they’d even gotten there. The figures didn’t seem to have seen them, but Ladybug alerted Chat Noir anyway. “Chat!”
Chat flicked his eyes over to Ladybug, who had stopped running entirely and was peering at the people on the building. He slowed down, turning around and coming back to her before stopping. “What is it, m’lady?”
“I think there are people on the building over there,” Ladybug replied, gazing at them. “And I reckon they’re stuck.”
“How the hell did they get stuck up there?” Chat asked. Because of his cat vision, he could see quite a lot more than Ladybug, and as he squinted at the two figures who appeared to be standing up, he could make out Félix and Kagami. His mouth dropped open. “Yeah, we should probably go get them,” Chat said, rubbing his chin in confusion. And the worst part was that he couldn’t even berate Félix as Adrien because he couldn’t let him know that he had two identities!
~~~~~~~~~~
Félix smiled at Kagami and squeezed her hand. It might have been a trick of the light, but he was sure that she turned pink, if only for a second. It was only the movement in the background that pulled his eyes from hers, and when he stared behind her, Kagami turned around and let go of him to see what he was looking at. Félix would never admit it, but he missed the warmth of her hand.
He turned to face Ladybug and Adrien - no, it was ‘Chat Noir’ (he had to have a word with him about the costume, Adrien was a complete furry but he wasn’t supposed to waltz around Paris in that - Gabriel would go into cardiac arrest if he knew).
“How did you two even get up here?” Ladybug asked, landing lightly next to Chat Noir. “Was it the akuma?”
“We, uh, got stuck,” Félix said abashedly. “The doors were locked.”
“Right,” Ladybug said without any conviction whatsoever. “Let’s get you home then.”
“I’ll take Félix,” Chat volunteered. That way he’d be able to easily just slip into his room and detransform in case Félix decided to check up on him.
Félix understood that Adrien was probably just vying for an excuse to hang out with him, bless him and his soft heart, but he was mildly irritated that Ladybug and Chat Noir had interrupted his… as of yet unknown thing that was going on with Kagami. Not to say that he liked her, no, that would be preposterous, he merely found her interesting to talk to. Kagami seemed like the kind of person to compliment you one second and strangle you the next, and Félix found that he rather liked it.
“Alright, I’ll take Kagami,” Ladybug said, placing an arm under the girl’s shoulder and hoisting her up. “Bug out!” She flicked her yo-yo with her free hand and sailed off.
“Come on, hop up,” Chat said, gesturing to his baton. “Where do you live again?”
Secret identity, schmecret ischmentity, Félix thought. “My room is literally five metres away from yours,” he deadpanned. Life was short, and he needed to vent. And tell Adrien that his outfit was ridiculous.
“Huh?” Chat replied, though Félix could see a flicker of shock in his eyes. “Who’s Adrien?”
“You, you dolt, and by the way, you’re terrible at lying.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Are you kidding me, Félix?!” Chat started panicking and took Félix with him, jumping over the buildings with his baton, muttering how he shouldn’t have such a stupid cousin and he was a good kid, what did he do to deserve this. Chat reached the Agreste Manor, ducking in a window and dropping Félix down so he could press his hands against his temples. With a shower of green, Plagg zipped out of the ring and left Adrien skintight-leather-suit-less to go and sit on Félix’s shoulder.
Adrien looked up to find his best friend sitting on the shoulder of his other best friend (Nino was a close third). His face contorted with the anguish of Plagg’s betrayal. “I thought we were friends, Plagg! How could you?”
“He gave me these things called ‘gummy bears’, I think,” Plagg said. “Now I know why Tikki likes them so much.”
Félix grinned at his cousin like the cat who’d got the cream. Adrien sighed. “You’re really not supposed to know about this, you know. How did you even figure it out?”
“I have no idea how the rest of Paris didn’t,” Félix retorted. “You wear the same cologne, you both pun too much, you’re both total furries and also neither of you ever change your hair. Ever. Honestly, you’ve got the fluffiest hair in France, so speaking as someone who knew you before you learned to walk, that’s a big freaking giveaway.”
“Hey!” Adrien exclaimed. “I’m not a furry!” Félix gave him a look. “Okay, maybe I am kind of a furry. But cats are awesome,” he defended himself.
“Seconded,” Plagg interrupted. “Cats are awesome, they’re so underrated. Jeez, I really miss Ancient Egypt. Those were some good times. People would call me a god, and give me cheese, and everyone would worship me and tell me that I was the greatest thing that happened to them.” Plagg sighed.
“Speaking of cats, your costume is outrageous,” Félix stated. “I could do better than that in my sleep.”
“Oi!” Adrien yelled. “I’m the one whose dad is a fashion designer, not you! You can’t just critique my outfit!”
“It’s based on his true desire,” Plagg snorted. Adrien scowled at him.
Félix cackled. “No wonder, that makes so much sense.”
“You say that now, but if you ever had a Miraculous your costume would probably be a bloody peacock,” Adrien grumbled.
“Not to worry, cousin. If I ever get a Miraculous and my outfit is more stylish than yours, I promise that I won’t rub it in your face.”
“That’s it,” Adrien said, making some rude gestures that Félix was surprised he even knew, “I’m leaving. Come on, Plagg!”
“Where are you going?” Félix asked, waving goodbye to the unhappy kwami, who, no doubt, was thinking about cheese.
“If you really must know, I’m going to the Dupain-Cheng bakery to get some sugar. I can’t handle all this sarcasm in my face without some croissants to tide me over,” Adrien groaned. Plagg brightened up immediately, floating mildly faster to reach him as he speed-walked out.
Félix was pleasantly surprised. Huh. I didn’t know he had it in him, that little rascal. I hope Marinette doesn’t trip over her feet too much when he goes over to surprise her - I need to have some chance of godchildren.
#felix agreste#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#adrienette#ladynoir#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug fanfic#ml fanfic
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Gaster Watching Us and Predictions/Analysis of Susie
I have a few theories about the game. A lot build off of the Youtube Channel Game Theory's ideas on what Deltarune is about.
1. The egg: you receive the mysterious egg from a man. Many believe that man to be Gaster. If Gaster was split across time and space when he experimented on himself, then his identity and form would be scrambled... like an egg. Game Theory has a great video on this, but Sans and Papyrus, two characters who move across the two games despite Toby Fox claiming the world of Deltarune is different than Undertale also move across time and space. I posit that Undertale becomes scrambled in deltarune. It is the same thing, but in a different form. Gaster is much like this. He became scrambled, and as is suggested by Matpat, split between Sans and Papyrus. That would explain how the brothers just "showed up one day and asserted themselves" in the community of Undertale and how they are doing the same thing in deltarune. The egg is a good symbol of this. Gaster gives you an egg, you cross a threshold back into the Light World. The fridge represents this threshold. You place the whole egg in the fridge, allowing it to cross a doorway, and then when you check again, there are two eggs. Sans and Papyrus. The sinks in the hospital also suggest this too. The sinks are called twins, but then the game suggests that perhaps they were once one big sink and split in two... and you have to wonder, who is telling us this? Who is the narrator that talks to the player and suggests this? And about the annoying dog making a game in the lab that perhaps shouldn't be disturbed? It's a meta-voice that is reminiscent of San's. Perhaps this narrator... is Gaster watching us. And when you call him out for it by typing in his name, he restarts the game. His presence is all over deltarune. Perhaps we will see.
2. I believe Matpat's theory that this is a game played by Kris and Susie to help them cope with their respective emotional issues. Kris feeling abandoned by Asriel makes up Ralsei and Susie wanting to be praised and fit in makes up Lancer. I want to draw attention to the fact that Kris has to show Susie how to play, since I believe she was too poor to have toys and her parental figure(s) are abusive and convinced her she shouldn't make friends (as we see Lancer's father do). #1 is that she doesn't know how she gained her axe. For kris, his pencil becomes a sword for his character, but Susie doesn't have the imaginative ability to come up with it. Kris makes up the tale and the bad guy, which are pretty generic archtypes that would come from a kid. Susie can imagine one thing that her mind is preoccupied with: food. She is hungry because she is poor. In the scene of her complimenting her enemies with things she wish people would tell her, she says "you are no longer banned from baloney (?) Sandwich day". Why was she banned? Probably from eating them all herself because she has no food at home. She only has chalk to eat, something she is upset Kris sees. Susie eats the cake but it doesn't fill her. Her and Lancer look at food in the tree trunk, and both can't reach it to taste it. If you get Ralsei to taste it, he is able to imagine the taste of honey because Kris knows what that tastes like, having been priviliged with a family that can afford food. Susie calls Ralsei out on only pretending to eat, and Lancer says "I do too!" meaning he pretends to eat just as much as Susie does. Susie lets Lancer eat the candy from the tree, which is also out of reach at first. Susie tries to imagine something cool for Lancer to do to reach the candy. She only comes up with him becoming a stool, but it is an improvement from before she gave into joining Kris in the game when she couldn't imagine a design for the creation blueprint, and so gets Kris to do it for her (and her pretend friend, Lancer) and then simply has it blow up because she can't imagine what it could do. When Susie gives the candy to Lancer she asks him what it tastes like because Susie doesn't know what sweets taste like since they are a luxory. The most she can imagine is in Lancer's (her creation's) response that they taste like friendship, another good thing Susie has a hard time imagining because she has never had a friend. That's why nothing she eats in the Dark World fills her, because it is all imaginary. Anything good is unobtainable and unknown to Susie. When Lancer joins the team, he stands behind and doesn't move to follow the group. Kris (playing as Ralsei) tells Lancer (who is being played by Susie) tells him that he can follow them. Lancer then slides along, as if the person playing him, Susie, doesn't know how to play or imagine a person walking correctly the way Kris is moving Ralsei. Lancer is an extension of Susie's psyche, which makes her battling him in the end and not wanting that soft and childlike side of her to be killed by her anger and friendlessness all the more emotional. She prevails in the end because she begins to learn how to play through Kris, solving puzzles on her own, eventually, when before she would suggest something simple such as imagining climbing over a fence instead of doing a puzzle before you can move on. Susie joins the party for real at the end. She starts having fun playing and expressing her feelings. This game is deep
#game theory#matpat#deltarune#susie deltarune#kris deltarune#undertale#ralsei#lancer deltarune#frisk (undertale)#frisk#undertale sans#papyrus#w.d. gaster#toby fox#theories#theorist#theory#easter eggs
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TriWiz ctnw
The former Gryffindor remained in her spot, watching as one of her most promising students continued through the maze. She had to admit that the last time the tournament was held, she had been jealous. Jealous because she wasn't of age to compete. Daphne always enjoyed proving herself and to this day she had no idea why. It was a hidden drive to be known, to have glory and more than likely the very reason the metamorphmagus had gone on living the life she did. Fighting in the war, joining the top ranks of the Quidditch league, and now Hogwarts where she had even gone as far to create a new elective to the school. But just like the end of the last tournament Daphne found herself regretting ever wanting to compete back then, even if she had been young and naive. Almost as suddenly as they had formed, her thoughts had lost focus and a smile formed on the blonde's face, her husbands words bringing her back to reality; an act she was thankful for. "Sounds great, I'll hold ya tuh tha'," it was almost hard to believe that they could celebrate after tonight and the prospect was enough to assure the blonde that the champions would all be alright.
With Grace's arrival came another glimmer of joy. It wasn't that she wanted to be distracted from the scenes but the blonde knew all to well to cherish the moments she had with her own loved ones when they were being given to her. "I'll take one love," grabbing a hold of two of her daughter's creation she carefully pinned it onto the collar of her shirt, taking a quick moment to admire it before sending her daughter a wink of approval. With a sense of pride she watched as her youngest continued to give out the buttons before turning towards her husband as he spoke to George about Radomir. A light chuckle escaped her lips obviously entertained by the idea of Oliver chasing away a future boyfriend of Grace's. "I'm sure ye'll scare'em good, love." Pushing the wrinkles around the button off his shirt she gave him a reassuring nod. With any lucky, Grace would have the instinct to come to her mother first before her father when it came to the prospect of having a boyfriend this way the two of them could ease the Scottsman into the idea.
Shifting her eyes up to the screens the flying instructor held her breath momentarily, as if this would aid the Ravenclaw against the large troll. Exhaling, she turned her line of vision over to the Creeveys, both wearing grins of amusement as they too noticed the young hufflepuff who was trying to make his presence known just behind them. It was no news to her that Jason Jameson enjoyed impressing Daphne and a few other of the female student bodies. "Some'o tha' gals at the castle are even think'n 'bout a restraining order," she joked thought she hadn't even been given time to enjoy her own joke when there was more positive news to enjoy. Raising a fist of conquest the woman allowed her blonde locks to flash in a shade of Ravenclaw blue and bronze, amazed and impressed over Dominique's use of wandless magic. By the time the Hogwarts champion had discovered the goat Daphne had been convinced that she was going to finish this task.
But just as usual as it was for the duration of the night the tables had turned. Before the champion stood a pair of familiar figures, figures Daphne knew to be out of that maze. There as no doubt that the image on the screen was fictitious, a trick, and the only thing she could think of to cause such a sickening sense of fear was a boggart. She didn't know what to think at this point, but she wouldn't have to. Oliver's movement had cause Daphne to turn her attention away towards the approaching figures of her niece and nephew. Only then did she notice the commotion that was going on. As the tension in the area rose she couldn't help but stiffen up some. "Wait, whats happened?" she noticed Susan crindging into Dennis's chest letting out a soft "Oh No." Turning back to the screen she placed her hands up her mouth shocked by the image of the Ravenclaw lying on the floor. She stood there frozen, unsure of what to do or say it wasn't until Kyle following after Freddy and then Roxanne not far behind him did she finally move. She watched as George went after his children and instinctively did her eyes move towards Brianna and Keegan.
"No!" the Head Girl had shouted before letting out a sob of fear and worry. Daphne turned her head quickly, "Sea-" but instead she found Susan, the Head of Hufflepuff house widening her eyes towards her friend before stitching her brows together in worry. All Daphne could do was stare at her, shocked by the fact that she had almost slipped up. A year wasn't long, certainly not long enough for some habits to die but she had been doing better than most people would have. Whether it was her unfortunate experience that she possessed or the fact that she was stubborn about being alright still wasn't clear to her. Either way, she hadn't expected to see Susan like she should have, she was expecting to see Seamus to him to check on Brianna. Instead, she foun a ghost that wasn't even there.
There was no time for either Susan or Daphne to speak of the situation, by now Brianna had ripped herself from Keegan's hold and made to scramble towards the steps of the stands. With a quick glance to the bottom of the pitch Daphne could see Lee Jordan carrying the champion into the medic tent and knew exactly what it was her niece was trying to do. She reached for Oliver's hand, squeezing it tightly for a short moment and motioning her head towards their niece who was trying to push the crowd to get to the stairs. She hoped that was all she needed because she didn't have time for anything else, letting go of her husband's hand she quickly excused herself past the Creeveys. "Brianna!" Keegan had called out, hoping that his sister would listen to her. "I'll get her," Daphne quickly patted the young Gryffindor on his shoulder, not taking any notice over the rest of their company. Moving fast on her feet she was able to pull the Ravenclaw into a stop before reaching the stair case. "Le'go Aintín Daphne!" She struggled against the former beater's hold but to no avail. "I need to make sure she's alright!"
Surprised by Brianna's all of a sudden strength she looked back down towards the tent, taking notice that both of Dominique's parents where making their way there. "Come lass," the woman wrapped her arms around her niece, doing the best she could to calm the girl down. Motherly instincts had taken over and while Daphne would never be the mother Brianna needed it was the only thing she had to offer. "I know yer worried an' all," she pulled herself away from the hug and looked directly at her niece in hopes that she would better understand her. "It's down righ' scary! Bu' Dominique doesn't need ya ta be scared or worried outta yer wits. She's gonna need'ya tuh be strong." She took a moment to exhale heavly. "She's gonna be fine'n hopp'n outta tha' tent like tha boomslang bite twas nottin' but a bug bite," of this she was sure of. Laura Madley was a fine healer, she had faith that the woman's magic would cure the girl. "Bu' right now, it's gonna be a wee bit crowded in there, her parents are gonna be want'n their space with her,alright?" She wasn't sure how much Brianna would believe her, but it had been enough for the young woman to calm down her breathing and nodd her head towards her aunt.
"Come," she wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lead Brianna back towards their family. "I left yer Uncail without an explanation. He's gon'be worried."
Returning to her family, the blonde had not been prepared for what was about to come, her moment of positive consoling with her niece now long forgotten. No, it wasn't the fact that she hadn't expected Durmstrang to win, that possibility was always there. It was the vision on the screens that had horrified her most, at least for that moment. Whatever had happened within the group of people moments ago did not matter to her. Here was a situation, yet another, for her to loose the people she loved. "The kids," she breathed, quickly placing a hand on Oliver and looking over her shoulder. She could feel the vibrations of her heart, beating faster and faster, looking over at the four who had already outgrown the term 'kid'. "Wands out, Wands!" she heared Susan cry, finally snapping out of the fact that her husband had gone. She and the Charms professor not only had the responsibility of their own, but to those of Hogwarts as well. "We have to help them..." she stared around herself almost blanky as people began to either rush under the stands or into the battle. She could see even brave and spunky children, throwing themselves into the heat of the danger. "We have to help." In that moment she could feel her courage swell up inside, the kind many Gryffindors were known for. She fought then and she would fight now. Nothing was going to get in the way of what she had set out to do. "Kyle, Brianna!" the screens fell to the ground, their shattering echoing into the night sky. "Don't seperate from your sister and your brother!" she could have decided to treat them like ther were seven instead of seventeen. But the fact of the matter was, they were of age and knew a thing or two. Perhaps more than she herself knew. And while motherly instincts were screaming to shield her babies, another bit was telling her how ridiculous it was because more than likly it would cause more harm than good. "I'm going to see if I can get everyone in order."
She climbed up a few stands and before she knew it everything had turned upside down and inside out. She felt the cold digits of a man she had hoped to never see again pushing up against her lips, keeping her from calling out for help. She pushed the pain he was inflicitng on her away from her mind, noticing it would only give him what he wanted and she sure as hell wasn't going to do that. She felt disgusting, her skin crawling with imaginary insects of the most repulsive kind as the ex-death eater dared to touch her. Her eyes widened, iris's shrinking as his cold voice hit her ear drums and yet, she remained calm. If there was any chance of her fighting back she'd have to wait for the oppertune moment, a moment that didn't involve rallying anyone around her. If she cried for her help too soon, and was suddenly stopped, then everyone would grow frantic. At his mention of Oliver she could feel herself itching to fight back, thoughts of anger and insult raging in her mind. How dare he. How DARE he. It was one thing to attack her alone, but so close to her family, her children. That was stepping over boundaries that would eventually lead to boldness or stupidity depending on the point of view.
She twisted her shoulder a bit, attempting to pull away from his hold. If there was any part of her body that was strong it had to be her arms, she didn't spend her time as a beater just to sign autographs. For an old man, he had a bit of power to him but it wasn't something to be discouraged over It was when he was reaching for her hand did she finally have a chance. Failing once again at pulling away from the man wouldn't have seemed as bad, but what he had done had changed that. Optics followed the one piece of precious jewlry she own ripped(or what felt like it) from her person and tossed as if it was nothing more than something out of a bubblegum machine(Though, to be fair, if Oliver gave her a bubblegum machine ring then she'd probably still feel the same way XDD). "SOD OFF before I smack ya wit a sack of potatoes!" she cried out. Taking the chance that had been given in tose few seconds he had pulled his hand away. Surely, her outrageous comment would not go unnoticed, especially with her family so close and knows how vivacious the woman could be with her words. It wasn't until she tried for the third time to pull away that she realied she couldn't. Instead, she found herself going in a direction she had been dreading, one away from the people she loved. The image of her friends and family burning into her sockets as if she had never been moved.
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This couldn't be happening. She wasn't worried about herself, but worried about what would happen if she wasn't where she was suppose to be. Grace needed her, Keegan needed her, Kyle needed her, Brianna needed her, and she needed them, and she needed Oliver. She needed to break away from this hold that was placed on her. She had to fight, it was in her blood and there had been a time in her previous encounter with Rodolphus Lestrange that she had broken through the curse with the use of her metamorphmagus abilities. Control, even the slightest bit of it was all she needed. She tried again and again, but nothing. This time he must have been aware of her capabilitis unlike before where he had been takenn of guard. She would have continued to try if the light from the flames in Hogsmeade hadn't distracted her. They danced around in the darkness, had it not been so sad and discouraging for the hopes and lives of those that invested in the village it would have almost been a beautiful sight. Closer and closer they got before she found herself inside what could have been described as hell. She could feel the high temperatures around her, beads of sweat forming on her skin trying to cool her off. Soon, Creevey Snaps came to full view; the structure having been freshly set on fire was still standing. But Daphne knew better. She had gone in their countless times and knew what the building held. If the fire somehow got to certain potions it woul only fuel the blaze and make matters worse.
Upon realizing that perhaps she had finally ran out of all her luck the woman had been thrown off, literally. She was no longer being controled but instead of relishing in the moment she felt pain. Parts of her burned, as if they would forever be doing so. Another was sore, her back having gotten the full hit when she hit the stand. Coughing, and expressing her pain in a low groan she began to pull herself up only to be yanked up before she was even ready. They were moving, they were moving up and with the smoke cripling her she had no choice but give in as she tried to catch her breath. She'd catch her breath and then reach for her wand. Yeah. EEEEEEEEEEEEH Wrong. When they finally reached the top Rodolphus had been smart enough to... well, smart enough. The weight on her ankles and wrist had increased by the foreign objects that were now binding her. Hues of scarlett(a change she wouldn't have noticed anyway) locked on the death eater's figure, carrying nothing but loathing within them.
"How did this Happ'n? You happ'ned ya bas!" She didn't have to stay quiet for this. If all she had to fight with were words, then she'd throw every word she could at him. Twitching back in objection to his touch. It hurt, but she would not show it. She kept her head held high, her frosty expression not holding anything back. Emitting a gagging sound, she turned away, preffering to forget the man's next actions. "Didn' anyone teach'ya how ta treat a lady?" she questioned between a few struggling grunts, protesting against there sudden move, yet again.
Now in the next room, her mind race, trying to think of anything she could do to help in her odds of coming out of this alive. She could feel the floor growing warmer as the minutes piled on, wondering how long she had to find a way out of this situation. She had been up her thousands upon thousands of times. That had to count for something? Looking up to check in on the situation she quickly ducked out of the way of the flying object. The pole landed across her side, as she squirmed her way out from undrneath the piles of clothes. "Wha? Not find anyth'n ya like?" she asked coldly. She had to think, what had she learned? She would have been dumb not to do research on the man after their first encounter. She had learned a lot about the elder Lestrange and nothing she liked. Then it hit her. "It's tha hair, ain't it? I betcha like it wild, and dark." Could she play this game? The game of guts and bravery? Uh.. duh, she was Daphne Wood. Like second nature, the locks of blonde hair transformed into curls of dark brown similiar to that of perhaps his neglectful wife whom she was almost sure showed no affection to him. If she couldn't fight, then she'd have to be unappealing; tainted, in his eyes. Hawking up a wad of spit, she shot it ouf of her mouth and towards the ground nearest his feet. "Yer sad, is whatcha are. Dun think there ev'r was a man in there, huh? Betcha tha's why yer wife was all piney fer someone else. Ha!" She used her upper body to sit herself up, face gissled like stone. "Free me!" she demanded, asserting herself as anything but a victim in this scenerio.
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One Bible Quote Pocket Knife Away From An Existential Crisis
By Jenna Reilly
For four years, from ages eight to twelve, I played in a bowling league two towns from mine at Patchogue Bowling Alley each Wednesday night from four o’clock to five thirty. The bowling alley was running down with half-seventies, half-nineties era technology and upholstery that smelt of pretzels and old carpet. But I enjoyed myself every time I went because I found that I really liked to bowl. The satisfaction of the pins crashing down from the force of the ball or the calculations needed for the perfect aim to knock down the last few pins, etc., I found much joy in the sport. I played with the same two to three boys, some varying as the years went on. Though I never got too close with them, an imaginary rivalry sprung in my head. I thought I kept it secret, but I definitely made gloating faces when I won or acted like nothing was wrong when I had lost without realizing it.
At one point, I wanted to win so bad that I began to pray to God to get strikes or win games. Not to say I didn’t work on my technique and actual skill in the game, but I used to literally pray to win when that didn’t seem to work. Thinking back, I don’t know why I thought that it would. I must have thought God worked in ways that he really didn’t, because when I didn’t win, and I found that my praying for bowling was useless, instead of questioning whether praying for sports was reasonable, I questioned why God wasn’t helping. I do not know if it was reason or lack thereof as a child, but I began to question what everyone was telling me about God. When I was twelve, I had to quit the league because Confirmation classes started for my church which were on Wednesday nights.
In my Confirmation classes, in a room filled with children’s toys within the part of the church that doubled as a preschool, we learned of men hearing signs from God, Noah’s ark filled with two of every animal in the world, and more. Our Pastor would give us sodas and snacks as he told us lessons and words from the Bible and how they could relate to our lives. Though we never discussed hot button issues like LGBTQ+ and God’s view of them or abstinence which I thought we would, that was probably for the best considering my soon-to-be-discovered sexuality.
These classes originally started two years before we were supposed to be Confirmed. Three months before our holy day, our Pastor said we would be going to classes for half a year more instead. With no explanation or reason given to us, we were all pretty confused and aggravated, but still went on.
One other requirement along with Confirmation classes was that we had to attend pretty much every Sunday mass in our little, old white church. We all did, except for my friend Ben who barely went to class nor church for the last year and a half of our Confirmation studies. This bothered my other friends and I who spent literally countless hours in that church or its classrooms. Surely what is right and fair will prevail, I thought, this is God we’re talking about, right?
Well there I was on Confirmation day with Ben and the rest of us, getting Confirmed for God. Remembering the endless hours of masses and events we all had to go through together, they all seemed rather pointless then with Ben standing there as well in the parish hall on a brisk Sunday morning in fall. I was wearing a lace-lined white dress with my black slip-on concert shoes, which hurt very badly due to my pre-existing blisters from the required Confirmation hike we went on two weeks prior. I was at the peak of the awkward stages of puberty at fourteen years old with my braces and straightened, yet still frizzy, blonde hair.
The whole congregation of my fellow church members came today with some added extended family members of the confirmands, as my pastor called us. We sat in the nicer portable fabric-covered chairs awaiting the ceremony. I was nervous that I would trip and fall or recite something incorrectly, I did not want to mess up the day we had waited so long for. But the service started and after thirty minutes and some godly songs we were called up with our immediate families.
We all stood on the sandy, gym-like wooden floor in front of the white and brown altar and five-foot cross hanging above it. Our families stood behind us, my proud Mom behind me, tearing up, and my Dad, also proud but a little less passionately, at her side. While my Mom is semi-religious, my Dad claims that the church will cave in if he steps foot inside. My Dad’s mom was very active in my church, many of the older members would speak of her and my Dad’s family very fondly to me. I did not know much of her devotion to God, though years after her death, some of her hand-made holiday decorations were still on display during my time at the church. My Dad said he had to go to mass each Sunday growing up, though he did not care much for it. And usually following in his Father’s footsteps, he has told me that my Grandpa coined the statement about the church collapsing with his presence.
As my pastor spoke, I kept feeling for an extra holy presence, which I didn’t quite find but also did not really expect. He’s always here regardless, I thought to myself. Well, maybe.
We each swore our oaths and we were suddenly Confirmed. All of that and it was over, great, I optimistically thought.
We finished up the ceremony and started to head out after our celebratory breakfast luncheon when my pastor gave us each a bag of gifts. One of them being a cross and another being a pocket knife with a bible quote. I loved the pocket knife but that seemed kind of weird to me - get Confirmed - receive a pocket knife. I guess I should have expected the unexpected when it came to this entire experience.
When I was home that night in my room, next to me a wooden cross with a brass Jesus hung on the wall by my Mom, I contemplated the day and everything that led up to it. I had to sit through two and a half years of Confirmation classes and Sunday services and then go on a required hiking retreat in the upstate mountains of New York, all while Ben missed out on most all of it, to gain an already pre-existing misunderstood concept of prayer and God and a pocket knife after some ritual of Confirmed faith? Something wasn’t adding up in my brain. This did not seem like what I thought religion was.
Back then, I would have never considered that God was not real, especially on my Confirmation day, but I did not see many logical reasons behind why my life was going how it was meanwhile God was supposed to take care of me. Now I knew things could have been much worse and I knew I was very lucky to have the life I did, but things have not always been sunshine and flowers for me. So I questioned, why would God make it that way? I wasn’t a bad kid . . . right?
I was taught to ask God for forgiveness for wrongdoing to prevent bad things from happening, so I asked and prayed. He was always supposed to forgive us, so why were things still going the way they were? Why did two of my grandparents get taken from me when I was a child? What did I do wrong back then? Why do people get to cheat their way out of things and still get the prize at the end like Ben? Why was my hard work and effort in attending two years of church and class rewarded with another half a year at the last minute? Why did I have to go hiking and get blisters on my feet to get confirmed and be accepted by God? Everything might be even more simpler than we all think it is, but if that is the case, then what is the purpose of it all if it’s not for God?
My religious journey was nothing I took too seriously for too long. Only for a few years in childhood was I devout, but I never thought much of it as it faded away, only remembering that I did not have the best experience getting Confirmed. I had many childish reasonings and ramblings that led to my questioning of faith. But sitting here now, open to any interpretation of life (personally favoring the one that we all just simply exist within scientific fact), I wonder how “wrong” I was at such a young age to question.
I grew up and at the age of fifteen I realized I was bisexual. It took a lot to overcome the internalized homophobia within myself to realize who I was. But once I did, I started to gain confidence within my sexuality and myself that I never had before. I am glad my church did not take a stance on it during my time there because it may have made my acceptance even harder, though I assumed most religions were against it. Realizing my sexuality solidified my questioning nature of God and (mainly) the major organized religions such as Christianity or the Protestant branches which I grew up under.
New questions began to unravel my ideas of God and such religions. If God loves all His creations, then why are people like me considered sinners to the church? Why was I born like this and then destined for a horrible life of discrimination and oppression? Why did I have to hate myself for fifteen years before somehow learning to like what God apparently hates of me?
Without my questioning of faith, I might still hate myself for who I naturally am. I didn’t know who I was then, but I’m grateful now that I questioned it all at such a young age to follow the path that I personally needed to. Maybe everything went wrong for the right reasons in the end.
Naturally, this all led to the loss of God as my answer to everything. Why we suffer, die, love, endure, exist, etc. So within that came a desire to have a reason for it all, which is a natural human reaction to life, and that is why so many people turn to religion. It is much simpler to live your life for God than to find a reason yourself, it seems.
Relying on God is a valuable tool when it comes to the hard things in life. That’s why it has been so popular for thousands of years: because life is not the kindest! Think about all of the people who worked their whole lives for minimum reward except the love and grace of God for their devotion and (hopefully) a one way ticket to heaven. Now, take away God and heaven from that equation, if that is all they focused on, what else did they have to live for?
If I did not have God to live for, then I needed another reason. Once I stopped relying on Him to guide me to my purpose and meaning, I felt lost in it all when things got difficult. But over time and through my experiences, I learned my own lessons of what life can provide and what I could try to make out of it. I saw love for my friends and family, passion for my interests and hobbies, confidence in who I was, the beauty of the world around me, and so much more. The hard parts of life became a little bit more blissful when I saw the brighter side of what I could make of my existence.
So when I began to question: why is this happening to me, to all of us? What is the purpose of my life? I realized that I am not completely sure, nobody truly knows. But over time, I discovered that maybe my life could be whatever I wanted to make of it.
Acknowledgements
I am very grateful for what Professor Armour has taught me about memoirs. I had not written many memoirs before Research Writing, I was more of a fan of realistic fiction and I was used to that form of storytelling. But after reading examples and studying what distinguishes a memoir from other pieces of writing, I discovered the impact they could have. This piece specifically allowed me to process many feelings from my experiences with the church and beyond. I never truly analyzed my experiences and their effects on me until I spewed it all out on a page and wrote my memoir. Professor Armour allowed me to discover a new form of analysis within my own life through writing, and I am very grateful for it.
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Hello,
My soul yearns for a good write to try to make sense of my world right now. I haven’t found the most success writing pen to paper; due to the fact I’m always tired and fall asleep or just feel guilty like I should be doing other thinks like work. This narrative follows my overall process with creation which is fine cause sometimes you gotta just focus on school. I am curious if I should just delete all my social media apps again. Also curious as to why I feel I need adderall to function. I essentially dream of days where I can just wake up at a normal time get out of bed and just do life. Getting energy for breakfast and working out, and being more delicate with the way I nourish myself. I guess that goes in more ways than one as even considering the media and conversations I intake + the things I exchange energy and time with being different. I wish to spend my free time reading books, eating cleaner maybe plant-based, working out doing yoga, painting drawing embroidering tinkering with electronics, tinkering with models making clothes, drawing imaginary architecture, making models of it. Writing poetry, playing the guitar, making YouTube videos, + beautiful media.
I guess when I think of all the things I wish I could do I get so distracted from the present. I’ve been trying to detach from this idea I have of myself just being better and accepting myself as I am in order to be more real about moving into those spaces I wish to fill. What I mean by that is: rather than looking at my art, the architecture I’ve done, or think about what I have done and how it is not enough compared to where I wish to be; I’m trying to shift my energy towards being happy I have these skills and I’ve done what I have as experiments as a process. Rather than distilling fear into these areas of my life wondering if I’m good enough or what I’ve done is good enough, I wish to be at that place where I am just doing, experimenting not being held back by my fears or yearnings to be comfortable in my bed. But jumping out of bed to try something new, or planning my meals and bed time carefully so I do have time to squeeze in all these dreams and aspirations making use of all my time, energy, and money rather than just sitting in my room waiting for the opportunity to present itself.
Anyway that is the first layer of my mind the second layer consists of my responsibilities and having confidence in my movement. Staying focused and not getting distracted.// so I gues this has three dimensions work, school, personal life: lately I’ve been loosing slee from the demanding rhythm of life: working the two jobs has been a great blessing and learning process. However it has been really rough lately just to get out of bed and go to the work that pays the bills: which annoys me cause In the back of my mind I overthink about how I am perceived in the work place. Also T.A.‘ing has been super stressful. I guess I’m putting too much effort in the wrong places: with the professor I am bothered with how unorganized and over assigning work, the kids are just assholes that takes shit to the dean after I spent two days pulling all nighters to give them feedback. The whole class has been a shit show, and I feel both the students and the professor lack to take responsibility and I am just in the middle trying to help, but not doing so well as I’ve not taken this class. Also underplayed and forgetting to clock my hours.
Concerning my own classes I just pretty much fell behind the last couple of weeks from just lacking focus, which needs to be addressed as a real issue because no matter what I have to shoot for the A+ and practice statics so hard that I pass the class with flying colors I am definitely doing better than previous semesters but I want to have all of this class understood and down pat. So I will not struggle in solids next semester. Overall my biggest issue is that worksite from both jobs has been prioritized over my course which is due to the fact of paying bills, paying for school, and buying adderal(also been hard to find)
So as far as my personal life it is just a ball of stress and money especially when thinking about the car how I need to fix it. Wanting to have a good relationship with my family. Having kam around really helps but also adds to the stress as I’m usually a concerned about feeding us, overly sharing of my drugs and time. He is a Superman the way he works and I wish the best for him but I also realize I must see my self in the same light, and sometimes I see him as not having g his shit together and literally needing my help and this is wrong because that view reflects on the way I look at myself. His presence I really value but I often catch myself using him as a blanket to run away from my responsibilities. So as I feel myself with him, I see what I’m doing how it makes me crazy and I want him to just take care of all my problems for me the way I try to do for him. So essentially I find myself creating cycles of overdepency or toxic interdependency where my movement is based on his. Which is bad because we do move entirely different. He is so important to me because I feel he is my only friend really who gets me and hears me out and doesn’t judge me like my family does, while also loving me and actually caring instead of just using me like many of my friends do to just fill up their time as they run from their loneliness. He reminds me of reasons to be happy, while also reminding me that the stresses of the real world are real but you just do it.
so all in all I am doing okay and I still have time to do everything I want In this life and even this semester. My creative pursuits do not need to be happening now, however I am preppingg for them by focusing on my priorities of the now.
Which seem so jumbly because the lack of sleep. But really it’s simple!
Top priority: take care of yourself first! Eat nourishing food sleep at good times, exercise when you can and Allow yourself time to breathe. Stop worrying about how you are perceived and out overthinking to rest. Simply be gentle and loving to yourself by showing up for life. Nurture ur growth first. Before you consider Anyone or anything else!!
Priority #2 pass statics!!!
Study what you did not understand!! Chapter 21-22 then refresh on all the things you found tricky. Do all the exams and remember to not depend of reference material.
priority 03 pay bills/work
First acknowledge you need to be a good worker so stop delaying and pushing g things off. Just get them done, show up on time.
-stop breaking your back for people who will not notice/care
-to be avoid worker simply do the job you don’t have to go above and beyond but do the job well. ThAts it.
-do not let your jobs affecut your emotions: you are not defined by them in anyway and you are just there to do the work and make money. Dont over give, demand respect and don’t be a push over: be confident and focuses that your time and energy must be conserved to focus I. School: stop feeling guilty about work. Feel grateful that you are lucky to have two jobs during this plague! So echa me ganas.
As far as TA’ing
Get grades in but have a plan!!
Grade all project one and 2 then enter the rest of the grades
Also stop overworking yourself here for pretty much nothing. It’s not worth it girl. The professor and students jobs are not ur responsibility!
-do not let it get in the way of statics
Final remark: so yes I might feel super flakey about work life rn: but those spaces are temporary and do not let it distract you from the mission to graduate As the architect engineer master crafter!!! To learn! You are not the only flake everyone is struggling and you have a lot on your plate which you have communicated. So do not wear the guilt of the working world. You are a student and you get to participate in the work I g world and as long as you communicate and so your job you are ok!!
-as far as today go in to work
Focus on staying concentrated!!
Do good work
Tomorrow is a day off you can catch up then!! Also be happy share positivity with yourself and others!
You are doing fine! There is a lot going on but it will calm down! You got this!
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Thoughts on Success
I in no way consider myself a feminist. The word itself makes me cringe. I am a beautiful, fiscally conservative woman with a steady career, who has worked hard to be where I am.
I never realized until I became a SUCCESFUL woman how many men and women are uncomfortable with my presence & sheer existence.
As a successful woman I have faced ridicule where my male counterparts receive praise. Upon commenting to someone how many hours a week I spent in the office or on-site with clients I was asked by a wide-eyed, (I am sure well-meaning) woman in her mid 50′s, “How much do you see your kids? Maybe you should change careers...that's a lot of time away from home...especially that young.”
While my male counterparts are given the classic “Look at you, burning the candle at both ends for your family!”
I have also faced disbelief that I, a woman, could negotiate my first sale at a higher commission than the agency standard. I closed on a half a million-dollar property at 9 percent commission meaning I walked away with 6 percent and the agency, 3.
For an entire month rumors spiraled I was sleeping with my clients, a rumor I may add, affected my personal life when a co-worker took to social media to state said rumors as fact.
The screenshot of the post was sent to me by a friend & co-worker.
This was promptly put to rest when I addressed her at my cubicle in the center of the agency, my boss in earshot. I calmly, and professionally called her out about her lack of professionalism, and reminded her of the repercussions such behavior could have.
After that I received either apology, or people stayed away from me. (I liked those people better.) My boss apologized profusely and told me it would not happen again, that there would be training. I told him it wouldn’t be necessary, it wasn’t his fault, I thanked him for taking care of it on his end. I stated with a smile, that I was fine and was satisfied. No training necessary I just wanted to work.
He seemed uncomfortable and thought maybe I meant something else. He felt he needed to cover himself, because in his mind. women never mean what they say. He mandated the training, to which I told him, I would not attend.
I later concluded she was angry because the listing from which I obtained the client was originally hers, she was sick so I was asked by my boss to show the property. The client and I built a great rapport, and after listening to his needs we determined my listing was a better option and price for him. He brought me two more clients, and I closed all three sales within my first 90 days at the agency. My client list kept growing from those initial three sales. The rumor milling co-worker was eventually let go after she threw a flute of champagne in my face at the company Christmas party, where I was recognized for being the highest seller in the office.
Even to women, my sheer existence, the “no-nonsense” way I carried myself, my success was a threat. Her husband had chatted me up at the party, nothing inappropriate just a simple exchange of congratulations and light conversations. which I can only postulate lead to the eventual rage behind the champagne flute incident.
He told me, many months later on a coffee date that was the night he had decided to divorce her. He filed the day after Christmas and it was served to her on Valentine's day. Ouch. He said at home, I had become a fixation of her lack of confidence. He had warned her that the rumors and posting would be a very bad idea. He said when he met me at the party he realized all the things she had said about me were completely false, and that he had dealt with this with her for years. She even once accused him of cheating on her with a woman in her office even though he had never stepped foot in it.
The imaginary affair sparked the creation of a joint Facebook account. We went on several lovely dates and had a wonderful summer fling. in the end, I did not pursue something more serious. He was a bit bitter but accepted it and we remain friends.
After the champagne flute incident, it took about 6 months for my boss to relax and realize I was, a woman of my word, and I was not going to do anything I didn’t want to do. My boss and I grew to have a great mentor-mentee relationship. When he saw I had a way with people, and was very good at selling, he took me under his wing (within a respectable distance so not to concern HR) and I became a broker within 16 months of my career.
Once I became a broker, I was able to have more control over my time, I spent more days working from home, enjoying my kids. I no longer needed my full-time nanny to drop them off and pick them up from school. She stayed on part-time while she attended college.
By age 30 I had made my first million dollars, had my own brokerage firm, and was “the boss”. Which wasn’t bad for a girl who only had a 2-year degree from a community college and was raising two kids on her own.
With both my kids now in school, I had decided it was time to go back to the dating world. I am a very efficient person. The questions I ask someone to determine whether or not I meet them. Several times I had experiences where guys had given me the “right answers’ but when I met them they were more interested in talking about my money, how much did I make? How much did my car cost? This was always a red flag and I often promptly ended the date there.
I even once had a guy ask me if I fucked my boss to get my job. To which I responded “I wish that was possible! It would have saved me 250 hours that I could have spent with my kids!”
followed by me asking the bartender to cash me out.
No matter where I turned it seemed I faced some sort of stereotype, gender norm, or judgment. I learned quickly I had to be careful who I entertained whether it be romantically, professionally, or platonically. The more my wealth flourished, the more I attracted leeches.
One night I came home, I popped my heels off and I poured myself a drink, my usual nightly routine. My nanny had just finished dinner, she asked me about my day. She told me about the boy's day. I remember her taking my glass, and she looked into my eyes. I am not sure if it was my tired state, but I had stared too long. She took my disheveled look like an open invitation to kiss me and proceeded to grind on me. It took me what felt like way too long to realize what was happening. I pushed her off and we awkwardly stood there for a moment both trying to collect our thoughts. She apologized, and said she thought she sensed something. I told her it was ok. She started panicking, asking if she would be fired, to which I said “no of course not! it's ok! I will see you tomorrow”
She had admitted to me, via email, she was very attracted to me and wanted to be my sugar baby. To which I told her, I didn’t want to make our relationship unprofessional. I kept the email for “just in case” because one thing I learned early on in life before the military or anything else was “CYOA” (Cover your own a**!)
She was a no call no show the next three days. I thought nothing of it and hired a new nanny. This time I hired a single mom of 2 in her mid 40′s, who came with great references and was much cheaper hourly than the au pair agency. She and her oldest daughter both clean for me every Wednesday and Saturday and I set her sister up with a job at the agency. She is a fantastic fit and has been with us for two years now.
A month after the kissing incident,I received a call from the agency stating the young lady was preparing to sue for damages and wrongful firing. A simple forwarding of the email resolved the case, and I received an apology from the agency. Her lawyer dropped her as a client. She had illegally recorded me in my own home and this was her only evidence.
My full video on the nanny cam and the email were enough to clear me of any wrongdoing. About 6 months later I received a check from her lawyer for my time and legal fees.
I am now 32, and I can honestly say while being successful has its benefits, I often miss when I was broke. I miss the lack of judgment I faced. I had different stress as a broke single mom than I do now. In fact, I think I have MORE stress now. When you become successful you must be hyper-aware at all times. The constant feeling of being on edge, who to trust, where to invest, and the constant ridicule can be tiring. The only difference between the new me and the old me is I can take a vacation to get away from it.
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What is Imagination to You?
Last week Thursday I was asked what it means to me to be inspired through imagination. Endi mentioned one of his early memories when he used his imagination as a kid. He remembered how he would use matches to stage a battle scene of his own creation. This reminded me of how, when I was little and in elementary school, I used to make-believe with my friends. Especially during the winter at recess we would construct a winter world that we were all princesses who controlled the weather and had intelligent animal sidekick friends that stayed faithful to us. Between me and two other girls, one of us was the princess of snow, another rain, and ice. I think we always fought over who would have snow. I think snow was our favorite because it created such a different world than we were used to. Everything was different with snow. We may have known the reason for snow at that point, but it was still too magical and awe inspiring to tell us any differently.
I guess I like the idea of constructing an imaginary story through the images we might naturally see in our world. Like the way I played pretend when I was younger, I don’t see any reason why to give up those dreams from the imagination as an adult. People think adults have to leave their childish imaginations behind, but adults are just more mature with more knowledge and possibilities for imagination.
In my images that will be “curated” in groups or sequences, I don’t want to define a story or thought process for my audience. I want the viewers to try to imagine a story completely their own. Maybe I’ll distribute forms (papers) where they can take a set of images, order them whichever way they wish, and write down a story that has the possibility to be within the sequence of images. Maybe if I get lucky, the images will merely be a springboard for a further story. I want to create the opportunity for a countless amount stories narratives that are only confined by the limits of someone’s imagination. I want my images to ask “why?” and I want my audience to be daring enough to answer.
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I’ve Been an Atheist A Lot Longer Than I Thought
[And that’s why I agree with Penn so very often]
I was raised a Catholic in a conservative town. All of my friends were either Catholic, Jewish, Mormon, and every other religious group known to man. Not once did I ever meet an atheist growing up, I firmly believe the first atheist I ever met was me. This goes way back to when I was seven years old. I played every sport as a kid. Soccer, basketball, volleyball, tennis, swim team, you name it. This story is from the basketball era of 2004-2006. Specifically, the early summer of 2005.
I don’t remember much from this year, other than it was a program called “Upward” and a heavily Christian one at that. Basically, we played at a local church court and prayed a lot and gave out participation trophies, all that good stuff. For each year of the program, a music album was made to play at games to hype everyone up, or something. It was called “Scriptunes” (no joke, that’s actually a clever name) and had about ten songs based off of bible verses.
I, of course, had a favorite one. It was the song that most resembled rock (an ongoing theme in my youth, and no wonder why I’m now a metalhead) and I only just recently figured out the name of the song, because growing up I thought it was literally just called “Acts 17:24.” Turns out it was named “Lord of Heaven and Earth.” Seven year old Lazer was obsessed with this song, and I think that continued until I was about 14. What can I say, good music sticks with you.
At first, I just blindly loved this song. I learned all of the lyrics, and would annoyingly belt it out from my crap CD player, you know, the ones that didn’t work unless you held them at the right angle. I can recite that song at any given moment (although, I’ll have to work hard to counteract the melody of the song, since it’d be weird to recite the tune) So, with perfect vocal control, I’ll lay down my favorite verse as a child.
“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of Heaven and Earth and does not live in temples built by hand.” (Acts! Seventeen twenty-four! Acts! Seventeen twenty-four!) You can look up the song and see why it’s so catchy.
Seven year old Lazer didn’t really know what it meant, but over the next few years I began to interpret it a very personal way, and in hindsight, a strongly atheist point of view. Having never met an atheist, I was none the wiser. I believe this was the same year I started going to horse camp. The program I loved was a weeklong overnight camp, and we got to ride horses pretty much twice a day. This camp was also home to a Christian college, and the camp was also very religion-heavy. Praying before every meal, praying before every trail ride, praying all of the time because why the fuck not? I was never down with the whole freelance-praying thang cause being a Catholic meant you only had to memorize the Hail Mary, the Lord’s Prayer, and saying Grace, and you’d be set for life. So, I never participated in praying.
Another thing we did was have a campfire every night, and we’d listen to testimony after testimony from counselors and our activities director (who I believe is the kindest person I’ve ever met) And you guessed it! Jesus songs, because after all, we were at Jesus camp. But, none of those songs every thrilled me the way my song did in 2005. Over the next few years of horse camp, we’d sometimes post our favorite bible verses on our beds, or make little crafts to show around with them inscribed onto it, and the whole time my favorite verse was Acts 17:24. It never changed. Over years and years, until I was 15, it never changed. It was when I started working at the camp myself that I was asked to explain why it was my favorite verse. (How I went this long without being asked that I have no idea) And lo and behold, my response was a telltale sign of an atheist (I had still never met one in person)
Basically, I thought the verse was directing me to put my faith in people instead of relying on places or constructs to hold my faith steady. God “does not live in temples built by hand.” I had never heard someone say the next sentence, and it was of my own creation. “I don’t need to go to church every week, or buy a new bible, or have a rosary, because I am constantly surrounded by christ, because He is in people, not those material things.” 15 year old Lazer was insightful as hell. I told myself that for years. I never believed in Sunday mass, because I thought it was weird for people having to constantly go to church to affirm their ongoing faith. If they believed in God, why did they have to go to church every week? Were they secretly scared they’d magically lose their faith if they went a whole week without listening, preaching, or praying for God? That, was the first sign of an atheist viewpoint. I had still never met an atheist.
After that, until I was about 18, I constantly questioned God. I hated being forced to go to church, I hated having to go to Sunday school, I hated how everyone I knew treated my queer friends and my trans brother (not well at all) and I soon learned to hate any mention of religion. I was slowly becoming aware that religion was being shoved down my throat, and I’d had enough. Then I actually met another atheist. (this is where the story gets good)
It starts out with me watching Whose Line is it Anyway? I binged the entire second era and started seeing ads for another CW show, “Penn & Teller: Fool Us.” I then fondly remember watching their special “Off the Deep End” Back in 2006, when I was 8. I had kept up with them as closely as an 8 year old could. It was hard since my parents thought the internet was evil and they thought Penn & Teller were not “kid-friendly” (they weren’t entirely wrong) However, I learned Penn was a juggler, and that week I taught myself how to juggle with little balled up socks. I don’t know how I did it, but little Lazer had crazy good hand-eye coordination and I learned how to juggle in like, two hours, then I just had to get REALLY good at it. I could juggle for an hour straight, and after I got real juggling bags I could do it for two hours.
Ok back to the present. I’m seeing ads for Fool Us and decide to watch back all of the episodes (I’d seen a few in the past) and by the time I got to season two I was obsessed. These guys are the silliest and most talented performers I’ve seen, and thanks to YouTube I almost immediately learned that they were skeptics, and Penn is a die-hard atheist. The thing that really got me going, is that my ideology on religion was quite similar to his. Penn has a lot of faith in people, and not in everyone’s favorite imaginary friend in the sky. He made me realize that I can take Jesus, God, and all religion out of the equation. My belief that there was God in some people, was easily transformed into something simpler. That there is unequivocal goodness in people. Some people are just good people. Christians will say they are “Christlike” and other religions will put them on a pedestal of equal value. I just think they are good.
My history of being a theist ends on the same day I became an atheist. The day prior I had spoken briefly with the men of the hour, Penn Jillette and Teller. The day everything changed for me was after I had seen their show in Las Vegas. After running down the aisles and out into the lobby, they stick around and talk to anyone that wants to meet them after the show. I wanted Penn to sign his book Presto! as a memento to take home, and while my dad got the signatures (without me? I know, but I was talking to Teller so I didn’t want to interrupt Teller to go tell my dad to wait) Teller signed a torn card prop that he ran offstage to give me during the show. I said thank you and goodbye to Teller (I was the last person he talked to of the meet and greet crowd) and I ran over to Penn and waited very timidly so I could also talk to him. I ended up being the last person, which was weird because there’s usually a handful of people that want to be the “last” person for some reason. I was just waiting around for my turn and I happened to be the last. Penn comes over to me and I get the chance to tell him a single sentence. (In my head I swear it was way more than that but what came out was pretty suffice) I tell him “I was raised in a Catholic family, but because of you I’m an atheist and I appreciate you so much for that.” I was instantly teary eyed because the look Penn gave me was so extremely loving and supportive that in that moment, I realized that he might be the only one to respond to that sentence in that way. Most of my peers are definitely not going to have a warm welcome to me telling them I’m an atheist. He gave me a very tight hug (he probably realized my right-wing-freak of a dad was the one standing behind me taking a video. Also, that video is adorable as hell.) Then we swiveled around to take a picture and he pulled me in tight and rested his head on top of mine. Pretty cute stuff.
Um, yeah that about does it. Penn was the first person I came out to, and I’m glad to know that was a turning point. Among other things (these two have inspired me in a huge way since I was a kid) this was the one moment I felt I could move on from my entire life of being a Catholic, and I can just be me, nothing else. I don’t feel like I have to identify with any religion anymore. I’d like to end this story with something along the lines of “they hugged and Lazer lived happily ever after!” because I know that there’s hard times ahead that will come and go, but I also want to end with an important message for kids my age and younger that I wish I was told growing up. That is, you don’t have to be religious. I always thought if I wasn’t a Catholic, then what was I? The answer was never “non-religious” because of course, that meant you had to turn away from God or something. Bottom line, you’re not turning away from anything. You’re turning towards reality, common sense, and unconditional love and trust. You’re only leaving those shitty dogmas behind.
- Lazer, September 11, 2017
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Victims of Child Sex Abuse must speak out without fear or shame
A new four-hour documentary has been released: Leaving Neverland, in which Wade Robson and James Safechuck’s describe being systematically sexually abused, by the now deceased pop star, Michael Jackson. When Jackson was first accused I remember my sense of incredulity and shock. The Martin Bashir documentary that followed some years later was more equivocal. Jackson was vociferous in his denial of any sexual misconduct in 2003. Jackson is dead and like Jimmy Savile, he took his secrets to his grave.
In the UK Jimmy Saville, Gary Glitter and Rolf Harris have been branded and shamed as sex offenders and predators. Giant figures during my childhood; they were protected by fame, money, and in some instances the BBC. How long did it take for victims to come forward? Decades. Louis Theroux’s documentary: Savile left an indelible impression on my psyche. I recall one line from the film, ‘It’s not monsters who abuse children, it’s nice men.’ Naturally, they have to be nice in order to win the trust of children otherwise how can they secure access?
In the specific cases of Savile and Jackson their celebrity was a magnet, it is easy to see how parents could be star struck, children seduced by the attention and lavish gifts bestowed upon them.
I grew up thinking Michael Jackson was an icon and genius, who triumphed over adversity, despite his brutal childhood at the hands of his bullying father. Jimmy Savile was a staple on national TV. Children dreamt of being on his programme Jim’ll Fix It- he was the man who made kids dreams come true. Rolf Harris could draw cartoon characters in seconds. His creations filled me with awe and wonder. Jackson and Savile are dead, Harris and Glitter are in jail? Why am I so perturbed by all these cases? Three years ago I remembered being sexually abused by a family member, since recalling I have experienced vivid and horrific flashbacks - my life has changed irrevocably. I, too, still try and protect my abuser, failing to achieve closure, while the family have cut off contact; certain friends don't want to know; others are incredulous; a small handful though have been supportive and shown empathy.
I started drawing the flashbacks of my own CSA, some of the images may cause distress, but art, writing and now music are my only sanctuary. I believe my drawings are evidence that something indeed happened to me in the small room before the aged of four. The desire to be believed is at times excruciating.
From a young age I was allowed to sleep alone with the perpetrator, while my mother slept in another room. The last day I saw my mother we became embroiled in an argument and it was then that I confronted her asking why did she allow me to sleep with a man who was not my biological father? How could this have happened under her watch and she retorted, ‘You loved him so much you went on your own.’ So, I am solely culpable then? According to her I went to my abuser night after night voluntarily. She neglected to mention when all of this started and when it stopped. There are still so many unanswered questions. Let it go, I say, but it is my brain that is clawing for the truth. All I do know is from the age of four to eighteen I was emotionally withdrawn eschewing all hugs and affection, even from my sisters, and I wouldn’t let my abuser come anywhere near me physically when I no longer slept with him in the small room. As a child I didn’t like to wash, sometimes refusing to for days, I wore clothes that were too big, as if ashamed of my body, I developed O.C.D (obsessive compulsive disorder) seeking extreme order in what was a chaotic, emotionally and physically abusive household. I was a solitary child, living in an imaginary dream world, it was aged four that I started to assiduously draw. As a teenager I struggled with my interpersonal relations and seemed to be drawn to predatory and insalubrious types. My erratic behaviour and mental unravelling is all documented in my book Schizophrenics Can Be Good Mothers Too written under the pseudonym Q S Lam (2014 Muswell Hill Press). Some of my more extreme behaviour is understandable now, often I was seeking dopamine, which is a form of pain relief. To this day I have to control this tendency towards extremity. When my mother asked him if he had abused me, he roared like a wounded lion, ran upstairs, broke down in tears in front of my niece and nephew and has not spoken to me since.
It’s as if I am dead. And yet I spent my whole life trying to please my abuser and seek his approbation, this is the sad and tragic irony of this tale.
I oscillate - sometimes minimising, negating, blocking, refusing to accept the flashbacks as real, even dismissing them as false memories. But after extensive reading and the more experts I have spoken to in this field, I keep hearing the same response - that they have heard my story verbatim from other survivors of CSA. Recalling the abuse decades later is not uncommon. I still remember sitting at my desk, clutching my head, rocking back and forth in an intense state of agitation until I felt my skull split open, a luminous green goo oozed out and then dissipated. It was after this vivid hallucination that I had the realisation that I was abused. It does sound odd, but this is what happened. It was shortly after this that I started making music, I can now play keyboards and guitar, I started singing again after a 33 year break and during the last two years I have produced 400 pieces of music - it is the only art form that ameliorates the pain.
No one really wants to hear about CSA, no one really cares about your abuse, it makes people very uncomfortable, victims are supposed to suck it up, to be stoic, to forgive and forget and move on. But you never forget, this stuff haunts you for life. Jackson’s victims stayed silent for decades, my secret stayed buried for decades, my mother’s abuse was also her secret for fifty years until she finally told me in 2014, two years before I recalled my own CSA. Abuse is often generational. You simply can't keep secrets like this inside, if you do you are ensuring the slow death of your soul. The truth has to come out and it always does.
When I finally plucked up the courage to press charges, the process was protracted, communication with the police sporadic, and the case was passed from one officer to another. None of the questions raised in my detailed statement were addressed, my abuser denied everything; he had a solicitor present. Ironically, afterwards, I felt guilty for subjecting him to this ordeal and when asked if I wanted to prosecute I said, ‘No.’ It is not uncommon for victims to protect their abusers, a condition called Stockholm Syndrome. One of Jackson’s victims also spoke about his guilt, his denial of the abuse, and his natural instinct to shield Jackson. The legal system doesn’t give victims much confidence that justice can be fairly achieved either.
When I was eighteen I was sexually assaulted on a bus, I took the man to court. It was masterly the way the lawyer discredited me while the accused just sat smugly with his wife and was found not guilty. In 2015 I wrote an article for the Huffington Post about the sexual assaults I have been subjected to over the years- this was before the #metoo movement exploded - I was trolled.
In my own case then the perpetrator will also take his secrets to his grave. I won’t get closure and nor will Michael Jackson’s two victims ever get a chance to confront him face to face.
Abuse frequently occurs within families, protective walls come crashing down, the victim is often the one that is not believed and sometimes even ostracised. Both of Jackson’s victims in the Leaving Neverland documentary spoke of their ongoing sleep problems, long term depression and the symptoms of CPTSD (Complex Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome). I struggle with all of the same problems and more. Help is out there, but for many of us we just have to live with the memories, not knowing when you will get another flashback, carrying a constant heaviness inside, grappling with irritability and a deep restlessness, believing that something is wrong at the very core of your being. You carry on, as we all must, try to edge towards the light and leave the darkness behind.
Survivors of abuse must speak out, share their stories, not feel ashamed and not care if they are believed or not. You have no idea how long I have wanted to write down these words, it was shame and stigma that inhibited me, but reading about these two men has given me the courage to also share my story, I am the one living through the hell of remembering and I have no reason to fabricate my story either. I sincerely hope the two brave survivors in the documentary have attained some kind of catharsis now. At the end of the screening they received a standing ovation, the audience was left shell shocked, Jackson’s legacy is shattered, but the lives of his victims are too.
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