actually I'm not done thinking about teru and ritsu's friendship. I think teru might be one of ritsu's first real friends. ritsu isn't like,, the most social kid in the universe, and I think he has plenty of superficial friends (see: "I talk about the weather with pretty much anyone") but I think the only real close friends he has are teru and shou. and I think it's bc both of them are people he met without his Perfectly Ordinary Middle Schooler mask. he has to fill the role of honor student, perfect son, doting brother, etc. all the time while ALSO trying to blend into the background and be inconspicuous, and that's part of why he lashed out like he did during the cleanup arc, but with teru and shou, his first encounter with both of them involved him being an arrogant little shit that's willing to pick fights, which contradicts the perfect kid act AND the perfectly ordinary middle schooler act, and is in fact much more honest bc he's not hiding this kind of nasty side to himself. and that honesty works out for him with these two! teru sees himself in ritsu because he's also kind of an arrogant little prick, and aside from initially trying (and succeeding) to intimidate him, teru looks out for him and risks his life trying to save him and they genuinely get along pretty well! and with shou, he sees that ritsu is willing to fight him on his own and he's like "oh you're fucking nuts, we need to be best friends now" and immediately respects him a lot just because he's not gonna run away from a fight he's certain to lose. idk, I just think it's important that ritsu's first real friends are ones who saw him in rather ugly circumstances and wanted to be friends with him anyway

may i raise: artem mr 99% win rate senior attorney at 28 or whatever wing, driven to full blown laughter in the nxx headquarters. the reason: some dumb joke luke says that just so happens to cater to artem's Oddly Specific Sense of Humor

I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH BECAUSE I LOVE HUMOR. and humor theory, humor studies, linguistics of humor, senses of humor, just, oh man, you hit something here, anon. im kind of sorry for what this answer is going to be because i have thoughts and by god am i going to tell you all of them

i like to think a weird little thing happens, among the NXX Investigation Team: marius wants to know what exactly can make the other members of the team lose their fucking marbles.

mc was his first target and she was very easy to crack. she likes videos of animals doing cute yet silly things and was brought to wheezing laughter at a video of a golden retriever valiantly trying so hard to catch food in his mouth but missing every single time. with further prodding, marius also finds out shes into memes and jokes from medias shes familiar with.

vyn was next and he took a bit of thinking, from marius. marius needed to get vyn right on the first try because he's sure that if he fails once, vyn will give him THE most smarmy unimpressed expression ever and marius will have to be physically held back from punching him in the face. so he thinks about vyn's personality and background, thinks about maybe psychology jokes, but then marius comes to a conclusion that he believes enough to hazard a try. one day, when he and vyn are waiting in the nxx meeting room, marius sends him a tweet. with bated breath, he watches vyn notice it, open it, and then emit just the softest little "hehehe"

which, from vyn, is honestly as boisterous as his laughter is ever going to get.

the cause of the laughter? that video of a dude being pushed from a platform into the dark abyss, his scream echoing, from the Perfectly Cut Screams twitter.

because vyn is like, insane.

marius decides to leave artem for last (because duhhh marius has barely seen artem smile, is he even capable of laughter?? artem is going to be marius' Boss Level, he goes last) so next on the laugh train is luke.

but luke has figured out that marius is on a mission and luke, an arrogant shithead in his own way, refuses to let marius break him.

marius wants to STRANGLE LUKE. marius has sent him memes of olde, memes of new, comedy sketches, tiktok compilations, vine compilations, and luke does not laugh. marius is damn sure he would have, at some of those things, but luke is Refusing To Laugh and marius is so close to challenging him to like, a duel (shut up, he doesnt know okay, hes frustrated and he doesnt know how to express that like a normal person, get off his back) or something.

marius gets so desperate that he even resorts to what he thinks is the most groan-worthy form of humor: puns

very specific puns, because today marius is testing his theory that maybe luke's nerditude will betray him. puns about engineering and natural science, theyre all TERRIBLE but marius continues because he WILL WIN, GODDAMNIT and

theyre outside of the courthouse, waiting for mc to finish up (she just had a trial and she was awesome, as per usual, queen shit) so marius, vyn, luke, and artem are idling outside, and while waiting. marius is telling puns to luke. aggressively.

"you can give up, you know," luke smiles sweetly. "no shame in that."

"fuck you, next pun," marius scowls. "a raven has 17 primary wing feathers. these feathers are called pinions. and the crow only has 16 of those feathers. so the difference between a crow and a raven is..." marius winces. "...only a matter of a pinion."

"okay," luke says, and marius wants to punch him sooooo baaaad. "not only does that pun suck but it's also just. objectively wrong. both crows and ravens only have 10 primaries---"

"shut the hell up, birdbrain."

"---among those 10 primaries there a few that are longer and more distinct than the others, kind of looking like fingers, so to speak. crows have 5 evident finger feathers---"

"oh my god"

"---wheareas ravens only have 4. so i guess with some editing, the joke could still work. a more sound version though would be to compare crows and song sparrows, which do have the correct difference in primaries and---"

marius is about to flick luke in the forehead, but hes stopped by the strangest sound.

the sound of somebody having an asthma attack but like, through a kazoo or something.

marius, luke, and vyn turn to where artem is and he is, inexplicably, losing his shit. he continues to lose his shit actually for like 30 whole more seconds before he calms down enough to look up at everybody who is in turn looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"what?" artem says, puzzled.

"why the fuck were you laughing?" marius asks.

"because it was...funny," artem says as if this is obvious when it is NOT and then everybody in that moment realizes

that what makes artem laugh seems to be the act of over explaining jokes itself.

(and before anybody sends a follow up ask, marius' favorite joke is bofa.

artem scrunches his eyebrows. "what is bofa?"

marius grins, absolutely fucking DELIGHTED.)

3 seasons of Charité - upsides and downsides

Includes spoilers for all three seasons!

What I like about Charité, season 1:

- Ida is a relatable and stubborn woman, and while I think the protagonists of the newer two seasons are written better and more interestingly, she makes for a good central character

- Behring is great to watch, complex, enthusiastic, arrogant, passionate, desperately forlorn, sweetly encouraging, irascible, honest, and I’m always torn between loving and hating him with all my heart

- he also stands in for how badly society was suited to handle people with psychological issues back in the day

-  actually, none of the characters are simple or one-sided; expectations are often subverted – Behring is not heartless, but he can’t just be “saved” either, neither Koch nor Virchow are as benign as they seem at first, Tischendorf is not the sweet young Prince Charming who’ll give Ida the dream life she deserves, Hedwig is not a brainless little floozie with no deeper thoughts or feelings, neither Therese nor Martha are all the strict boss ladies they want to be, Edith is not just a snotty bitch etc.

- medical history of that time, a blunt look on methods and circumstances

- the rivalry between the doctors; it’s fun to watch them passive-aggressively piss on each other

- the staging of the Tuberculin scandal was really effective, with all the hyping, the downfall and the consequences

- we get sweethearts! Stine is a sweetheart, Else is a sweetheart, Therese is a sweetheart, Dr. Kitasato is a sweetheart, and most of all Dr. Ehrlich. I like kind people, ok? Especially in a setting where so many people are asses

- the music is atmospheric and quite nice

- despite two options of marriage, the female protagonist remains single and gets to focus on her career, even in a time and setting that’s not supportive

- I’m having a blast with Minckwitz – he’s such a bitch, I love it

What I hate:

- the lesbian dies for no good reason

- did our main character really have to be a tragic, left-all-alone orphan in debts? Would you like some cheese with that whine?

- the big, hammy speeches get on my nerves after a while

- my sweet lesbian Therese dies, awfully, of frickin’ tuberculosis

- say what you will, Ida and Behring could have made it work; I think they would have been good for each other. Kinda disappointed

- Else Spinola deserved better

- poor Therese dies, thinking that God punishes her for being in love with Ida

- those weird slo-mo shots between scenes don’t serve any purpose

- what’s with the random fortuneteller scene? What was that good for?

- THERESE DIES! We go with f***king Bury Your Gays??? F*** YOU!

_________________________________

What I like about Charité, season 2:

- Anni and Dr. Sauerbruch – different than with Ida, we get two focal characters who aren’t presented as doubtlessly morally good. On the contrary, Anni starts out as quite the happy-go-lucky little Nazi follower – and then we get all the character development; hell yeah!

- Anni chooses to keep and raise her disabled baby herself, come hell or high water; damn, she fights for that kid. And Martin is positive disabled representation, too – thanks for giving me a handicapped veteran who’s not a bitter, drunk wreck just whining about what a cripple he is! He’s got a grip on his life, and the leg only ever comes up on three occasions; it doesn’t define him

- Otto, Martin, Doc Jung, Margot, Maria Fritsch and Kolbe are more clearly positive characters, but they aren’t one-sided, either – like, Otto plays that bright sunshine, but there’s so much seething in him. My sweet baby boy

- same for the negative characters, because they aren’t flat either; Artur, de Crinis and Christel are super interesting, all different levels between quiet, only semi-aware compliance and full-on, not-so-blind fanaticism. Gawd, those shitheads, but they’re fascinating to watch

- all them relationships – Margot-Ferdinand, Otto-Martin, Otto-Anni, Artur-Anni, Margot-Doc Jung, Ferdinand-Doc Jung, Anni-de Crinis, Bessau-Artur, Martin-Christel, Otto-Christel, Anni-Martin… there are so many interplays, so many dynamics that influence each other! SO many layers!

- the acting is better, I think; the characters altogether feel less wooden, much more human than the first time around – perhaps because it’s not 19th century manners anymore now, I dunno; I’m getting really emotional over shit, and I love it

- incorporation of the political and social situation into the hospital setting – much more than in the first season, the state ideology influences the way the doctors can do their work, and many of them do their best to still hold onto their duty when everything around them falls apart, which is beautiful

- power struggles between the characters in charge and ideological / political nuances are more subtle; nothing is black and white

- but there’s nothing subtle about the presentation of Nazi crimes and how many people actually just went along willingly – that cold bluntness is just what that subject needs

- interactions with patients are better this time; they’re more now than passive, pitiable creatures who quietly die their way, they’re characters with their own minds and drives (Lohmann, Magda Goebbels, Hans von Dohnanyi, even Emil)

- the music is even better than the first time around, I love it – so gentle most of the time, but it can also really help to build the tension

- we get a very sweet, functioning queer romance between characters who consist of more than “well, they’re gay and it troubles them”, and they both live – THANK YOU for learning your lesson; there was no good reason to have the gay character die, so Otto and Martin get a happy end. Was that so difficult?

What I hate:

- Yrsa von Leistner is so effing random. Who the hell wrote this? If you can’t incorporate a character properly, why bother including them in the first place?

- the passivity and anonymity of the disabled children – why didn’t Artur or Anni ever get to perceive one of them as a person? That girl Traudel for example, Anni could have talked to her

- there’s a slight tendency to “I’ll just tell the character next to me” exposition – Artur when he and Anni wake up together that one morning (why wouldn’t Anni know yet what he’s working on? That long-winded explaining sentence just came off as awkward), Peter Sauerbruch to Margot about the Dohnanyis and Bonhoeffers

_________________________________

What I like about Charité, season 3:

- I’m all pro ProPro! Honestly, that man is a treat, both how the character is written and how the actor carries the situations and interactions he’s in. He’s arrogant and narcissistic, but he’s also principled, insightful and caring, unpolitical in a smart way and honest in a quiet way, and he gets how people are, and his mentorship of Ella, how he supports and encourages her and also bluntly gives her the dressing-down she needs, is a thing of beauty. And that she has to earn his attention first

- I have a personal soft spot for the scene where ProPro is doing his sports and going jogging while talking with Ella, and then just has her run along. That man’s hilarious, I love him

- Ella’s spirited, and while I don’t love the protagonists of this season as much as those of the second, she’s still great in her own right – the dedication to her research, the strength with which she handles the shit that’s thrown at her

- everyone’s so snarky!

- the wider focus on medical history and research; we see a lot past surgery now

- everyone’s taking shit in stride – staff is running off to the West? Ok; rest gets double shifts. We don’t have a senior doctor on the ward this morning anymore? We do shit ourselves. An illness we’re not prepared to treat anymore because, actually, there should be vaccination enough? We’ll make do. I love that spirit

- positive disabled representation! Rapoport’s daughter actually interacts with people, is presented as a person, has dreams and strengths and can handle her issues – yes, please!

- we get an intersex character, not for long and the story isn’t treated with the care and attention it should have, but props for the effort, I guess

- the setting allows for Ella to focus fully on her work and passion, not really giving much on romance and marriage without that seeming out of place – Ida’s conversations most often revolved around a man, Anni was considered a Nazi role model for being married and a mother, but Ella, while the relationship with Kurt is an option, never prioritizes this and never needs it

- personally, I’m smelling threesome subtext between Ella, Kurt and Alex Nowack – that may just be me, but I like it

- how everyone handles situations, how the changes happening in the country are incorporated into the world the characters live in, how they are able to cope with stuff and make decisions, in the end even without shifting blame

- even more so than in season 2, I really like how human the patients and their relatives are, that interacting with them in the right way is made an important part of the doctors’ work, even when some of the patients are asses

What I hate:

- people are mumbling – it’s not dialects, it’s not accents; they’re mumbling. They never were in the first two seasons

- the cancer stories were really no favorite of mine; what’s with the teary melodrama and the sudden gory shock value? Come on, Charité, you can do better. Presenting the human side of everything has always been the strength of this series, so why going so overboard now?

- I dunno, the crime cases ProPro investigates don’t seem to be incorporated that well? I suppose they’re there to establish his main field of pathology, but they spend a lot of time on that “Biter” case, and I’m not sure why

- would have been nice if Inge Rapoport had gotten to interact a bit with important characters other than her husband, Arianna and Kraatz – she’s a lovable, strong female character; why keep her so one-sided?

- what’s with the black’n’white painting? You showed us how conflicted and nuanced people under the Nazi regime could be; why now the clear line between “those people are good” and “that one sold his soul to the Party”?

- you show us an intersex person, introduce her as a character, make us sympathize, show us her hindrances and possibilities – and then she’s just gone? What about her treatment? Positive development? Making Kraatz’ interactions with her a counterpoint to his interactions with Doc Rapoport? What WAS that?

The Ones Above Us. Chapter 1

Date:- September 30th, 2008, 14 days after initial discovery.

Time:- 18:42 pm

Flicking a cheap Poundland lighter, sparks spat in the morbid matt of a pure black atmosphere out on location in the back arse of nowhere (somewhere far off Ireland’s version of the M6 he’d been told). Winter winds were of the worst kind: didn’t matter how far inland you made it, or how thick the walls on your house were, they traversed the land with albatross wings wide and undaunted by what they came into contact with, smacking into any surface with no regards to slowing down. They didn’t seem to have any regard for detective Arthur Fleming‘s Malboro either, a stiff left hand shaking at the switch, and the right vainly trying to create shelter for the cigarette.

“For FUCK sake.” Singed fingertips for his troubles.

“Serves you right. No smoking on the job detective, you know better.”

Head Forensic Pathologist Fatima Alvi. A 4’9 willowy thing with a short, plump bob, damn near bobblehead proportions and a tendency to get right under his fucking skin like the irritating shit she was. She’d succeeded young and now all that arrogance she hadn’t quite worked out her system from (what should be mandatory in his opinion) the hard labour of working up the social ladder had only boosted her tendency to tighten her favourite black brogues far too tight, straighten her back like a bloody ballerina and fix that rod she’d shoved up her arse however many years ago a little bit deeper.

“I’m ten yards from the sodding site and wrapped in a white, walkable body bag, I think we can both agree me being over here isn’t going to tamper with shit. And not to challenge ur dictatorship, luv, but you’ve got winged lashes big enough to take off under those goggles o’ yours. Now you go back under those useless gazebos, and I’ll happily freeze my arse off out here.” Turning back round to face the empty, Arthur cursed himself for getting a 4 buzz cut rather than a short back and sides a week ago.

Fatima despised this part of the job. Working with middle-aged, greying twats like this one that clearly hated their jobs, but seemed to have this vendetta against the mere mention of career change. Yes, she was aware as you age, getting a new job gets harder. Surprise though, so did being fresh out of uni. Life sends these little tests to fuck us all over, not just you mate. Must be the bitter taste of Thatcher’s rule that’s left him slow to change. Scarred from the days when not having a job meant not eating, full stop. Doesn’t give the trout-mouthed, once-upon-a-time aryan flag pole a reason to snap like Chihuahua.

“Why don’t you stop trying to get your next sad excuse for a hit from nicotine, and come over here and do your actual fucking job?”

“No respect.” Muttered Arthur to himself, giving up on his lost cause and unzipping the top half of his polymer suit to shove the cigarette into his oversized shirt pocket.

Finally the standing misery addressed the stout woman face to face, a shaking clinging to each syllable, “What the hell d’you need me for? It’s obvious this isn’t a normal murder case, IF we’re even call it a murder case. I mean for god sake, Fatima, the grave is over 50 feet long! Whatever we’re uncovering obviously isn’t a human, it’s a fucking dinosaur! Why am I here in the back-arse of all points nowhere, rather than a load of archaeologists?”

“Because what we’ve found so far isn’t making sense, and last time anyone checked, dinosaurs were fossilised. BONES, detective, not skin. This body is so fresh, there’s absolutely no decay at all! That’s impossible. Then there’s the skin, it hasn’t even been stained by acid or mud, like the skin is coated in some hydrophobic matter. None of this should be possible.” A sigh slipped the last of Fatima’s adrenaline-fuelled spitting out, she was tired. Tired of him, tired of working, tired of being in the cold. “Look, personally I think this is probably an elaborate hoax some twat on YouTube with a fringe or whatever has decided to plant in a well known historic location for views. The arseholes will probably be waiting for the news report on TV so they can have a laugh at our expense. None of this is natural, and frankly it’s starting to look ridiculous. However, so long as our shitty superiors believe this to be a murder case we stick to finding out how this thing died, understood?”

Scathing way of saying it, But a hoax was something Arthur was desperate to cling to. Of course, this was nothing but staged and faked beyond belief! None of this could be real. Give credit where credit’s due though, the bell-ends that did this were thorough. Tutting, Arthur knew he couldn’t argue his case anymore, and started to strut off on those stilts for legs back to the beams of spotlights, Fatima trotting along after him just to keep up.

“Glad to see you’re helping.”

“Just talk to me about what’s going on so we’ll be able to document this and go back to the hostel.” Spat Arthur in retaliation. He hated this job. These people. But most importantly, that thing.

Entering through the only available entrance, the two nearly ran into another detective. Useless idiot. Despite this temporary flimsy building being the size of a football field, there was barely enough space among the number of personnel of all ranks and professions, technology, storage facilities and dig sights to separate the wood from the leaves. To add to the misery, despite being as frosty inside as it was outside, the scent of dank earth and petrol from the excavation diggers still managed to permeate the trapped air. God it stunk.

Taking on a note of interest as she got into her element, Fatima called out as she moved out the way, “Right, so we are at the feet end, and up there at the other end of the canopy is our head. We’re going there first because that’s what the two witnesses found during their initial dig.”

Taking off briskly, the forensic pathologist seemed unfazed by the sheer size of the foot sticking out like a meteorite fallen to earth just a couple of meters from the entrance, not even gracing the thing a glance. Arthur had no such laissez-faire-attitude, frozen in tunnel vision. This is why he didn’t wanna come back in. The damn toes had the familiar, unique swirling pattern of calloused skin seen on humans, and blotches of brown that must’ve been freckles, as they lacked the blotchy, wet texture of mud. Veins passing like eels under ice became exposed near the epidermis, shining icy blue. On an intellectual level, the aged detective knew a foot his height in length couldn’t possibly exist in the real world. If they did, someone would’ve surely reported such a sighting.

On a primal level, instinct was sending adrenaline shooting to his heart, and his lungs could scarcely fill themselves in time to keep up with the demand of oxygenated blood. Those feet looked too alive. The raw power those hands must posses, accompanying such ginormous feet! All of it reminded him of his honeymoon with his wife on Safari, watching a pack of saltwater crocodiles descend in a snapping furry upon shared prey, crushing a zebra’s skull in its death roll, red and bloodied teeth and palate facing the animal’s terror-struck gaze whilst it still vainly screamed for its herd to come to its aid. The vocal cords snapped, eventually silencing under the sheer force of those jaws collectively ripping the head off n one piece. Two crocodiles sent the thing flying twelve feet in the air in pure territorial aggression, neither caring that they’d just murdered another being, before the Wiley victory went after the splattering mess to claim its prize. None of the herd even dared approach the brutality. Would these others do the same if he were captured? Would they leave him to the beast?

“Arthur, c’mon.”

Back to reality. “Sorry.”

Just focusing on Fatima’s back seemed to do the trick, heart rate levelling out below 100bpm. Don’t look round and it won’t be there. Arthur didn’t have it in himself to self scold for such a ridiculous reaction; he knew he should’ve stayed outside.

Still set on her headlong track, Fatima chose to not bother with looking back and risk painfully smacking into some poor soul, so delegated talking to the air in front of herself, hoping he heard her through the ruckus around them. “The head hasn’t decayed, following suit to rest of the currently exposed limbs, though there does appear to be damage. Face appears to be male, middle-aged 35 to 50’s. Noticeable marks being three precise third degree burns across the face resembling a striped pattern. No sign of healing or breakdown within the exposed areas either, which would suggest the burns were created after death.”

“Has anyone tested a sample of skin to see why there’s no breakdown?”

“We tried, but every single time someone has come in with a scalpel to remove a piece, once removed from the body the entire piece seems to crumble instantly to a fine blue dust and disappear.”

“What, Like Indiana Jones style? We found the crusader knight?”

“Please try and take this seriously Arthur, I wouldn’t mention our findings if they were false.” Tutted Fatima.

Arthur knew he was deflecting to shield himself. “I am. Can we at least try collecting the dust?”

“No use, I meant it when I said everything disappears.”

“So anything we test or observe must be on the body at all times or it’s essentially worthless?”

“Correct.”

Well that made everything just that little bit harder. JUST! They’d been reduced to the detective abilities of the bloody Edwardian period. No testing beyond what could be extracted from the soil (and judging by the lack of messy bodily fluids, the thing probably didn’t have any), and they had yet to uncover the rest of the body to see if there were any signs of obvious trauma that would account the reason behind the death. This was going to take forever. Every waking moment in this shithole was a second wasted. Whoever made this thing was one sick fuck.

“If I ever find the shitheads responsible for this prank, I’m gonna hand em a fucking life sentence. The law be damned.”

Just missing a collision with another photographer, the head finally came into full view. Even from this vantage point above ground, the thing didn’t seem small in any way. If he’d thought the foot was massive, the head was a new beast entirely upon its own pedestal. Surprisingly peaceful for a dead person, no expressions of pain or strain, just a suspiciously perfect sullen face (aside the burns of course). Knotted, greying-blond hair splayed out in dregs from the skull like old depictions of the sun’s rays, haloing the face and drawing you to the pair of closed lids. He wasn’t pretty by any standard, Arthur vainly self-noted. Weak chin jutting thin lips out from the round face, a high hairline accentuating the large forehead and a heavy brow ridge. If he weren’t the size of a four story building and significantly burnt, he’d have been extraordinary ordinary. Forgettable even. The detective knew he shouldn’t be saying that. It was a ‘victim’ after all.

“If we can’t remove any body parts, can we perhaps open the body up instead and take samples of anything inside the stomach, lungs, chest cavity etcetera?”

A grimace pulled at the woman’s lips, marring her usually stoic face, “Already done it, we had Liam go inside with a contamination dry suit whist you were outside. It’s the kind of stuff sewage divers wear at human waste plants.”

Arthur couldn’t help turning his own nose up at the prospect as well, shuffling unconsciously just a little further away. “And?”

“There were important pieces missing. A full, undisturbed respiratory system: lungs, trachea, the works. Oddly, absolutely no digestive or reproductive organs what so ever. Weirder yet, there were no signs of sabotage or surgical removal, it was like they were never there in the first place. What really caught my eye on the camera feed was that he had, what we think, are a series of air sacks integrated along the connection between the lungs and the diaphragm.”

“Meaning?”

Poor Fatima was looking at Arthur like she was trying to explain how to use the toilet to a three year old, a strong side eye from her place parallel to him

“MEANING this thing had an incredibly resourceful breathing mechanism.”

“So no basic necessary functions like the need to eat and reproduce, but a top quality breathing system. And you wonder why I’m not taking any of this seriously? Why couldn’t we just send a report saying it was a hoax and save time? It technically doesn't even come under the scientific detention of alive.”

“Well certainly not now it doesn’t.” Arthur gave his own stink eye back.

“... Look, why don’t we try and get the body transferred over to London? Our proper, large-scale testing equipment will be at our fingertips, and we’d be able to at least stick this problem on some stupid lab rats and be done with it, what d’you say?”

Fatima finally stopped half-hearting her disgust to focus on Arthur face to face. “Arthur, where d’you think that kind of space and discreetness would be possible in the middle of London city? This body is over fifty feet all, we wouldn’t even be able to keep it cool enough to stop potential decay-“

Arthur butted in, “- This thing has been out the ground for two weeks, Fatima, and hasn’t so much as lost a hair naturally. We don’t need to worry about decay. Yes, transferring the body would disturb the ‘crime scene’, but if we get this thing sent off as archeological dig remains, the disturbance won’t matter, and we’d be off the case. I don’t wanna be stuck with this shit anymore, do you?” Was he sounding too desperate?

She knew she shouldn’t mention it, not to herself and DEFINITELY not Arthur, but within her selfish consciousness, Fatima couldn’t agree with that. This may be a hoax to Arthur, but all these findings were starting to settle saplings in the garden of her imagination. These Findings weren’t Styrofoam cut outs painted with acrylic, nor were they polymer clay held together over a skeleton. whatever material this was, it was unlike anything she’d seen before. Maybe all this was a hoax, maybe all this was a waste of time.

But secretly, she wished it wasn’t.

“...I’ll see what I can do.”

morons united group chat with @diabolicaltendencies @epiitaphs @theasteriae

ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : whos hosting this weekend? Bagsy not me, only just got the window fixed from when Bash tried to escape through it. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : tried? i think you mean succeeded.

SMS [ do not answer ] : anyway, yeah, no, i can't. sorry. ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : if you mean you went though a closed window and got covered in glass, sure, you succeeded. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : you're just bitter because you lost the bet. word to the wise, alex, never ever bet against basher moran ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : it’s fine, I put the window repairs in your card. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : that's fine too; "my" card is actually august's card. ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : should have known going for your wallet was a liability. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : i mean, probably, yeah. you're fingers are so sticky, i'd have to be stupid to carry my real wallet when i'm meeting up with you. AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: And my card is really the inheritance fund so you might as well do something useful with it, Alex. sms [ clusterfuck ]: I'm out of town until Sunday. But if you need a place to crash I'm sure you'll find your way in.

BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : you could have told me! if i'd known it was dear old dad's money i was spending, i'd have blown the whole lot a long time ago SMS [ do not answer ] : where out of town, exactly?

AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: which is exactly why they wouldn't give it to me all at once. sms [ clusterfuck ]: what? you looking to come along?

BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : killjoys SMS [ do not answer ] : nope, not if you're where i think you are. just seeing if you'll tell me the truth.

ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : dammmmmn well seeing as I’ve had to put up with you shitheads for so many years I’m glad your daddy’s finally paying up SMS [ trash pile ] : better get me a fridge magnet from wherever you are BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : oh yeah, i heart surrey, just what you've always wanted. not. ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : at least August gets me stuff rather than BREAKING MY FLAT SMS [ trash pile ] : I have a lot less anger towards your dad now he’s going to pay for my MOT SMS [trash pile] : is this what rich kid life is like?? BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : oh yeah? why don't you get august to bring you daddy's ashes back as well then, so you can bow and scrape before the urn, really say thank you? AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: I'd happily tell you but you could just as easily ask your boss. Your passive aggressive shit must be rubbing off on him. sms [ clusterfuck ]: but seriously, by all means, spend away. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : alright, well, i  guess saturday night's on me after all then SMS [ do not answer ] : jim asked you to work? why did he ask you and not me? AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: because he actually gives a damn about you and I'm still expendable, apparently.

sms [ clusterfuck ]: Don't have a fridge magnet, Alex, but I got a pretty nice knife off the bitch who tried to stab me with it. ALEX SMS [trash pile] : bash calm down, it’s probably better not to be mr. Narcissistic fucks favours? SMS [ trash pile] : JUST CHECKING but was this bitch very short and in a blonde wig?? AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: No...? ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : okay that makes me feel a whole lot better SMS [ trash pile ] : shall we do another weekend if August can’t make it?? We need someone with more than one brain cell. AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: Yeah, no. It was a man with a death wish. You'd know if you tried to stab one of us... right? ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : I mean you’d really hope so but it’s not unheard of SMS [ trash pile ] : I stab a lot of people AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: Fair enough. ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : if you’re not in Berlin right now you’re probably safe SMS [ trash pile ] : probably AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: Just stick to the plan. I'll be there Sunday to pick you all up off the floor. sms [ clusterfuck ]: Or bail you out. ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : I’ve got brunch with Sam Sunday SMS [ trash pile ] : if we survive AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: You really think you'll make that date? I'd reschedule that if anything. ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : ITS NOT A DATE BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : yeah, but does sammy know that? ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : I need coffee and avocado toast to fix the hangover SMS [ trash pile ] : we. are. not. dating. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : yeah, but, again ... does he know that? AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: I have coffee and a toaster. Just tell Sam to bring your avocado and something for the rest of us. We can interrogate him then. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : shall i ask jim if he still has those thumbscrews lying around? i mean, it's better to do these things thoroughly, wouldn't you say? ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : I wish I had stabbed you AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: I was just thinking about questioning him. But you know, now that you mention it. How well do you think he'd hold up? Hypothetically. ALEX SMS [ Trash pile ] : this is a conversation we are not having AUGUST SMS [ do not answer ] : yeah, it's pointless -- so much easier just to find out for real ALEX SMS [ trash pile ] : if we were dating, which we very much aren’t, why would you need to interrogate him? It’s SAM SMS [ trash pile ] : he’s stitched you ALL up BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : yeah, but are you not dating in the way jim and i aren't dating, or are you not dating in the way that august isn't dating anyone at all? AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: A fair question. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : fair point. you know, though, sammy's pretty steely. i think he could go at least a couple of rounds. AUGUST sms [ clusterfuck ]: With his background I'm honestly just curious if he can take it as well as he dished it out. SEB sms [block]: oh are we talking about torturing sam? im down sms [block]:  im with august think itd be interesting BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : yes, aha, 3 against 1, alex, sorry -- you've been outvoted! ALEX SMS [trash pile] : trust you to show up when we discuss torture SEB sms [block]: i only have time for important things ALEX SMS [trash pile] : anyone lays a hand on my not boyfriend and I will break bones SEB sms [block]: hah you said the word boyfriend BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : methinks the lady doth protest too much SMS [ do not answer ] : just kidding, alex isn't a lady SEB sms [block]: she could barely pretend to be ALEX SMS [trash pile] : IM NOT A LADY FUCKING TAKE THAT BACK SMS [trash pile] : listen just cause I’m the only one who hangs around with people who aren’t psychotic murderers SMS [trash pile] : speaking of, how is jimbo? SEB sms [block]: lady moran. weird ring to it. ALEX SMS [trash pile] : yh bash ur mum is WEIRD SEB sms [block]: really shouldve seen that response coming sms [block]: anyway alex you cant break all our bones at once so really just be ready for ur boy to disappear for a while BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : don't talk shit about my mother SEB sms [block]: dont take it personally, petya has some mommy issues BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : unless you want to get into all your mummy issues, you two? SMS [ do not answer ] : precisely, back the fuck off SEB sms [block]: or what BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : or i will show you why it is my nickname isn't seb, but basher SMS [ do not answer ] : got that? SEB sms [block]: loud and clear sms [block]: still, you'd better pick on alex first, since shes more ur size BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : fuck you SMS [ do not answer ] : i could take you down any day of the week and you know it SEB sms [block]: sounds like a challenge to me BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : bring it then SMS [ do not answer ] : i dare you SEB sms [block]: see u this weekend then sms [block]: keep an eye out BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : i've beaten bigger men than you blindfolded SMS [ do not answer ] : so i think i'm good to sleep, thanks SEB sms [block]: if you say so BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : i could take you and alex on and once and still come out without a scratch on me SEB sms [block]: well now thats just bragging sms [block]: but this is 1 on 1 you can fight alex another time BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : gladly, mate ALEX Alex Moran has left the chat SEB sms [block]: oh perfect we can plan the torture without worrying she'll tattle to sam AUGUST Sms [ clusterfuck ]: Oh hey Seb. How's it going? SEB sms [block]: just another day of making sure my sister doesn't murder me AUGUST Sms [ clusterfuck ]: I see you two ran Alex off again..  yep pretty much what I was about to guess. SEB sms [block]: these things happen when we're left unsupervised AUGUST Sms [ clusterfuck ]: Understandable. Unfortunately we should probably keep Sam in one piece if you're out picking fights. BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : it's a shame, but ... he kind of has a point, you know SEB sms [block]: it really is sms [block]: as much as i also hate to agree sms [block]: and i dont think sticking him in a basement overnight is going to do much BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : we could always try the interrogation tactics they taught us in the army? SEB sms [block]: well. thatd probably be logical BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : that way he'd be physically fine afterwards, hopefully mentally competent enough to patch you back up as well SEB sms [block]: ur so smug about assuming there wont be one single mark on you sms [block]: but as long as he can hold a needle and use it properly then yeah should be alright BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : ah no, i'm not that arrogant, i just know i can cope with a couple of cuts and bruises SMS [ do not answer ] : i know i'll have had worse SEB sms [block]: fair enough sms [block]: we'll see if you can do enough damage to actually make me get stitches or whatever BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : if you end up needing stitches, i'll buy the first round SMS [ do not answer ] : fair's fair, yeah? SEB sms [block]: yeah thats fair BASH SMS [ do not answer ] : excellent, well then, i'll see you saturday SEB sms [block]: sounds good. ill be ready