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medicaldoctordana · 9 months

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Doing Science 1/3

Rated T

W/C: 3.5k+

Seattle, Washington, 2000

“Over there! That’s her!”

The ecstatic voice drifted over the crowds, over the chatter of hundreds of people crowded in the event space. A group of five pushed past the booths lining the pathway to the spotted individual at the registration table. They stopped in a little alcove, watching the tiny redhead and the tall man beside her get their lanyards and move through the crowd to chat up the stand attendant a couple of booths down.

“Are you sure?” “Where?” “I can’t see!” Three of the five refuted the first’s claim of a sighting.

“At the registration table, I told you she would be here and I swear it’s her! I did my research!”

“Oh yeah, like you did your research on that Fish Guy.” The last of the five quipped. They were the shortest one in the group and their friends knew them as “Vee”.

“How was I supposed to know trimethylaminuria was a thing? It’s not like I’m a medical doctor.”

“Are you certain it’s her?” The voice came out sounding meek, although she was known for being the most reserved of the five individuals who had all met in an online chatroom almost a decade ago. All of them were meeting up for the third time in person and Nora had been the one to suggest the repeat meetup in the first place.

“Yes I’m sure, I have clippings of all her newspaper articles in a binder back in my room. I know it’s her because she’s always pictured by that six-foot-tall partner of hers. And he’s standing right there.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go talk to her!” Handsome and stout described the person speaking. He often held up the back of the line, yet was usually the first to rush forward into something.

The somebody who originally spotted her held his arm out to stop the group aiming to proceed.

“Wait, what are we going to say? ‘Hi we’re your biggest fans, will you please relate to us all your stories about the unbelievable scientific inquiries and discoveries over the past seven or more years?’ No! We can’t do that!”

“Oh! We can ask if she’s the mysterious headliner the conference hasn’t revealed yet!” Bert said, always the one to make room for the good ideas by supplying the bad ones.

“If she is, she’s probably under contract not to say anything, doofus.” The voice was ungodly angelic, even with the unearned name-calling.

“You’re right. Let’s ask her if she’s single!” Bert, once again, throwing out a bad idea.

“Are you kidding me? She’s seeing fellow online phenomenon M.F. Luder.” Jones slapped his friend squarely on the chest, spurred by the outlandish request.

“No, I think she’s secretly dating her partner at the F.B.I. Mulder.” The tall angelic-sounding woman sneered, filled with jealousy, unsure directed at whom, though. Daphne was the bold and flirtatious one in the group. She looked and sounded like an angel but often acted like a devil.

“Really? I heard she was with some guy named George Hale Kaplan. I’ve read his theories online and they’re very astute though a little pretentious if you ask me,” Vee revealed.

“I think they’re the same person.” Nora chimed in, sometimes her wisdom was taken for granted even though it was praised in the online forums.

“You guys, they’re all the same person. I have the receipts to prove it back in my hotel room. Honestly. Marty and Fox Mantle would be proud of the level of investigation I’ve done.” Jones boasted.

“That’s just another one of your conspiracy theories, Jonesy.” Daphne was always at his throat.

“Well, either way, I’m going to go talk to her. I have so many questions about her approach to closing that case with the invisible elephant. I don’t think we ever got an explanation for that one. I’d love to know what it was like doing an autopsy on a pregnant elephant.” Vee’s scientific interest outran their friends by miles, despite that interest being the thing that brought them all together.

“You mean, necropsy,” Nora corrected.

“Right,” Vee blushed, having been wrong about something in their wheelhouse.

“I’m gonna ask about their episode of Cops. Man, that was a good one.” Bert said, redirecting the excitement.

“Don’t– I think it’s a sore subject for them,” Nora warned. “Oh, really? How would you know?” Bert cajoled.

“Because the way she said, and I quote, ‘The F.B.I. has nothing to hide.’ They definitely had something to hide and she did not seem happy about the camera crew following them around.”

They all hummed in agreement. What were they hiding?

“I wanna know about the invisible man! That was her most recent find!” Jones exclaimed in excitement.

“Yeah, I’ve got questions about her experiences with spontaneous human combustion! I can’t believe she was the one to suggest it. She’s a total skeptic!” Back in the game, Daphne zeroed in on her favorite of the two, having followed both her and her partner’s work the most out of all of them.

“Okay, gang, let’s regroup at 5 with a plan,” Jones suggested.

“But she’s here now! What if we miss our chance!” Bert worried.

“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, Mulder’s wearing the 3-day V.I.P. all-access pass lanyard. I’m almost certain we’ll have time.” Vee pointed out. “OMG, I’ve got it! Let’s stake out their rooms! It’ll be like our very own X-File! We’ll be like one of them!” Daphne bounced in place, hitting all her friends in excitement.

“Oh, I like the way you think, Daph. Let’s go!” Jones pushed them out of the alcove to stealthily follow the pair around the corner of the event space.

A few hours earlier

“Mulder, care to tell me why you happened to find a bum case in this city the exact same weekend as the biggest unexplained phenomenon symposium the U.S. has ever seen? I’m getting flashbacks to that time you dragged me to Minneapolis just for that football game.”

“Come on, Scully. Do you really think I’d make you pack a bag and hop on a plane last minute just to induce subterfuge onto you by misleading you into attending a scientific research conference in the great state of Washington? Not to be confused with our Washington?” “Yes, Mulder. That’s exactly what I think you’d do.” “I hear they have great apples here.”

“Mulder,” she was taking that tone with him again. The one that said she disapproved of his methods but secretly enjoyed the results.

“It will be fun, Scully. There’s a presentation on the true turn of the millennium that I think you’ll enjoy. It’s part of their mathematical theory track– you go to that one while I attend the talk on Fibonacci sequences evident in space.” “You’re not leaving me alone in there, Mulder.” “So you’ll go?”

“We’re already here,” she sighed, “I saw the sign when we passed by the space needle. We’re on Seventh and Pike, we might as well stop by before we head back to the airport.”

“Oh come, on, Scully. It’s a beautiful weekend, the sun’s supposed to be out– which is apparently rare as opposed to the usual overcast– and the flight home is six hours. Do you really want to spend all day in a cramped little airplane? Let’s stay and make a quick little vacation out of it.”

“Mulder,” There was that tone again. “You know that’s not my idea of a vacation.”

They drove under the arches of the convention center and into the parking garage.

“Please? I’ll book the hotel on my own personal dime, I’ll even make sure they have a nice soaker tub for you.” Scully eyed her partner from the passenger seat of their rented Ford Taurus. “You already booked the hotel didn’t you?”

They got out of the car and met at the trunk to lock up their F.B.I.-issued weapons and badges.

Mulder rolled his eyes coquettishly, he didn’t want to use his last bit of ammo unless he had to. It seemed like he had to. “I’m– I’m booked as a guest speaker on Sunday.” It was Friday morning. He rubbed the back of his neck and hung his head in shame. Albeit it was a boyish ‘I’m not sorry I manipulated you’ shame.

“Mulder!” Scully took on a defensive posture, hands on her hips and stopping her little feet.

“Scully! They reached out to me! How could I say no?”

“What on earth could you possibly be presenting on?”

“Our work, the X-Files, documented cases of inexplicable phenomenon acted out here in the states.”

“Mulder, our work is classified. You can’t share those documents.” “Not all of it, Scully. Plus I ran it by Skinner and he gave me the go-ahead to share certain details of certain cases.” “Skinner knew about this!? Mulder! I’m going to shoot you! Then him! And maybe you again!”

“Come on, Scully. It will be fun, I promise.” Mulder pulled on the blazer at her elbow, after all they’d been through, he wanted to see her let loose just once. The gunmen had related that time they’d tricked her to Vegas and he was sorely upset he missed out on those shenanigans.

“I swear, Mulder…” Scully left the threat empty as they made it to the entrance of the convention center.

She regretted giving in the second they walked through the door.

“Mulder, is that–?”

“Someone dressed in cosplay as Flukeman? Yeah, it appears so.”

They stood in silence as they watched a fairly accurate rendition of the sewer creature walk by and high-five a young teen dressed as what could only be assumed to be Mothman.

“Mulder.” Scully fumed.

“I know, I know. You’re going to shoot me. Good thing you didn’t pack that extra clip, I have a feeling you’re going to want it.” Mulder placed his hand on her back and pushed her through the main lobby.

“How do they even know what the Flukeman looks like? Mulder, we never got photos.”

“There was a quite creative artist rendering in that year’s edition of The Informer– that’s probably also why that guy there looks just like–” “Eddie Van Blundht– Mulder,” Scully took that tone once again.

“Can we cool it with the death threats? The conference is three days Scully. Okay? I get it. You’ll kill me, this is unforgivable, I’ll never see the light of day again.”

They walked by a couple’s costume of Nessie; like the front and back halves of a Halloween store’s cow. She was speechless.

It was a good thing he was leading her through the throng of people because all she could do was stare at the crazy people in costumes and ufo-related paraphernalia, itching to backpedal and get out of there as fast as the laws of physics would allow. There were so many tin foil hats.

“Mulder! That bigfoot has breasts! Huge, massive, breasts!!”

“Yeah? So? And there’s the Jersey Devil. They look just like those drawings I showed you back in ‘93.”

“How– How do they know so much about our cases, Mulder?”

“Oh, I think Mr. George Hale Kaplan might have had a thing or two do to about it.”

Scully stopped him short, looking at him for what felt like the first time since they arrived in her own personal hell. “Are you saying you leaked our files online, Mulder?”

“Is it really leaking if you’re making a statement about the absurdity of the government’s control of information that the public needs to be aware of? You remember how Watergate turned out for Nixon. You know how much I support the Freedom of Information Act, Scully. This shouldn’t be news to you.”

“And here I thought your relationship with Karin Berquist was unethical.”

“Oh, that reminds me, they’re doing a tribute to her at the lycanthrope panel at 2 today. I want to stop by if we have time. Let’s get registered and scope out the booths before we get checked into our room upstairs.”

“Mulder, I’m–”

“Going to kill you,” they said in unison.

“Okay, I’ve got it all mapped out,” Vee addressed their huddled group just before the final event of the night. “They’re checked into room 402–”

“Both of them?” Jones clarified.

“Yes,” Vee confirmed before being interrupted by Daphne.

“See! I told you they were sleeping together!”

“Yeah, yeah, big deal.”

“Hey, good thing we’re booked for rooms 401 and 403. It’s like it’s fate or something.” Bert said spaced out from the doobie he and Nora had smoked earlier– for their anxiety.

“Totally, Bert. So I bribed the registration attendant and got a copy of their itinerary. We can go to all the same panels they do and gather some info before the big event on Sunday where we can ask our questions. We’ll take the next day to come up with what we want to ask then vet them tomorrow night to pick the best ones.”

“You’re so smart, Vee.” Nora looked at her friend dreamily, she was deliriously happy they all entered that fateful Skeptics and Believers forum chat all those years ago. Truly, the entire forum was dedicated to the work of those two F.B.I. agents. She remembered the turmoil and fear that permeated through the community when their office burned and the unit was shut down. It never made the news, but it was evident from the emotion in Luder’s depressed soliloquies posted on the S&B forum.

“I can’t wait to meet the enigmatic Doctor, Dana Scully,” Daphne gushed, “And Mulder sounds so dreamy from the way he writes his posts.”

“He seems like a big dork to me,” Jones said, “honestly her too. The way he describes her knowledge of certain topics… They both kind of seem a little freaky-deaky to me.” Jones didn’t get the attraction to the people that Daphne, Bert, and Nora seemed to bond over. Like Vee, he was more interested in the science and nature of it all.

“Yeah, but dorks are sexy as hell, Jonesy,” Daphne retorted, “I mean, that’s why we’re all together, isn’t it?”

“Cool it, you two. We’re not here to fight about that right now. We can all agree, they’re both hot, but it’s their minds that we’re after right now.”

“You’re right, Vee. ‘Nothing happens in contradiction to nature, only in contradiction to what we know if it’” Nora was known to quote those two– how she got some of those quotes, they weren’t sure, but they assumed it had something to do with her Uncle that worked at F.B.I. headquarters with them.

“That– That’s not relevant, Nora.” Vee grabbed their friend’s hand, knowing she was still a little out of it.

“I know, I just think it’s a beautiful sentiment.” Nora smiled at her friend then snuggled up to Daphne’s side.

“I think they’re heading up to their room! Let’s go!” Jones jumped out of his seat and pulled Bert along with him.

The five of them raced up the stairs, hoping to see them depart from the elevator to their floor.

They made it just in time for the doors to open and for Scully to walk out talking to her partner.

“I can’t believe you made me sit through that entire presentation on Lightning Boy. Mulder, I was there.”

“Yeah, but wasn’t it interesting how they connected the effects of electrostatic energy to dark matter and spontaneous human combustion?”

“Mulder, you know very well there are so few documented cases of spontaneous human combustion.” “Yeah, Scully, I do know. You documented one of those cases.”

“Ugh, I wish I didn’t! I’m still doubting whether it was or not! There were plenty of avenues we left unexplored that could have very well explained what happened. And I still believe the case in Mississippi was due to weather. You know, actual, real, natural lighting.”

“Or, it was spontaneous human combustion caused by a drastic increase of electrostatic energy conducted through a person–”

“It’s entirely implausible that a man– a human man had the ability to snap fire from his fingertips, Mulder!”

The overheard conversation cut off as they walked through their room together. His hand was low on her back and the gang desperately wished they had the rooms next to the agents rather than across from them.

Inside the room, however, the conversation dwindled off as Scully pulled her travel silk pajama set from her bag.

“You’re bringing me coffee and continental breakfast in bed tomorrow, Mulder. And don’t wake me before seven.”

“Wanna curl up like little baby cats tonight?” Mulder asked as he stripped down to his boxers.

A pillow was thrown at him and a scowl graced his partner’s usually stoic features. She was so cute when she was angry.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you sleep in the bed at all, Mulder.”

“Come, on Scully. Let me make it up to you?”

“Oh, you have a Titan Krios hidden in your pants?”

“No, but I have something else you can put under your scope.”

Scully laughed, her anger not serious at being dragged unwillingly to what was practically a UFO convention.

“Mulder, I don’t need a microscope to see what’s in your pants.”

“No, thankfully macroscope will do.” Mulder crawled on the bed to his partner. This thing between them was new, the sexual part anyway. Sharing beds had become his best comfort, and sharing her bed had become his best pleasure.

“Why did you drag me down here, Mulder? Our first session doesn’t start for another 45 minutes and I was really enjoying the king-sized bed all to myself.” “There’s a meeting group I wanted to bring you to. Come on, it’s just down the hall here.” The sign outside the room said “Skeptics & Believers Online In-Person Meet-up”

Scully mocked the oxymoron in the ad.

“How is it both online and in-person? Why are we here?”

Mulder pushed her through the door encouragingly.

“The online forum is where I post some of our best work– under a pseudonym of course. This is the in-person meetup for those active in the forum, Scully. There’s no need to feign dense. I know how smart you are, and let me tell you. These people will appreciate it too.”

Mulder had scoped out the space before bringing up her breakfast that morning. With an orange juice in hand, he had chatted up QueenAnne1939 whose name was indeed not Anne at all but rather referenced the same British cruiseliner that Mulder was rescued from in 1998.

He had chatted up BigBadGoatSucker, TheGreatMutato42, VampireSherriff, and a few other users he was in contact with and promised he’d bring his partner down to meet a few of them.

To his surprise, everyone in the room had asked about her. He had no idea Dana Scully had such notoriety in a forum she had no idea even existed. Maybe he had gushed a little too much in his recounts of their kookiest cases. It seemed like they were a thousand times more interested in her than him, and it took a big hit to his ego. But no matter how he felt, he wanted Dana Scully to feel special. So he brought her into a room full of other Scully fanatics.

When Scully walked in, everyone began to whisper in hushed tones.

“Mulder?” Scully questioned her partner. “Why are they looking at me like I’m a little grey man?”

“Thank you for referring to the proper color of reptilian skin,” a person with a round face and glasses said as they approached the pair.

“Uh,” Scully stood at a loss for words.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Scully. I’m Carter Bowman, the creator of the online forum, Skeptics & Believers. I began the forum in 1993 with the goal of uniting scientists and phenomena trackers to discuss the implications of unnatural occurrences and their very plausible explanations. Many of our users rely heavily on the work of you and your partner on The X-Files and we commend your dedication to finding the truth behind the often inexplicable events. Your paper on hallucinogenic mushroom organisms and the powerful effects of psychedelics on the mind is laminated in my office at the NIH.”

“Um, thank you?” Scully hesitantly took the hand outstretched to her to shake. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “You work for the NIH?”

Carter nodded their head, “Yes, indeed, many of us here hold highly esteemed positions at prestigious universities and organizations. Kim over there heads the international health research division at the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation,” Carter pointed to a scruffy-looking woman in the corner of the room. “She’s speaking to Morgan, who’s come all the way from Wiltshire and works on the Stonehedge preservation project. There are a few professors in attendance from top universities in the U.S. as well as Canada. Honestly, we have quite the crowd here.”

“I can see that, I- I had no idea. I have no idea what to say. Ah, thank you.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Mulder finally chimed in, “She’s new to the whole internet stardom thing. I’m sure she’ll return to her chatty self after the presentations today.”

“So we’ll see you at the mixer tonight, then? It’s at 9 in the bar across the street.”

“Oh we’ll be there,” Scully said, perked up at the thought of alcohol. She was going to need lots and lots of alcohol to forget all about this. And she might have a good opportunity to kill Mulder then too.

He escorted his stunned partner out of the room and onto their first presentation of the day.

Intersections of Necromancy and Religion; Examples of Raising the Dead in Connection to Various Sects of Faith – Special Showing of Clips from New Movie: "The Lazurus Bowl" Featuring Interviews with the Director and Cast!

Yeah, lots and lots and lots of alcohol.

tagging @waiting-for-the-day since the idea came from my tags on their anon answer & @today-in-fic

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fanfic #today in fic

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nitewrighter · 5 months

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Hi! I'm very new to the overwatch Fandom and am currently obsessing over your fan kids (specifically Seye bc I don't see a lot of doom content and I love him) ANYWAY, doomfist does die, right? If so, who is it that kills him, and how do Seye and his mother react? I did read the post about Seye eventually destroying the doomfist with some help, but am super curious about some of what happens in between and after :>

Wow! Asks that make me dig through my ancient 'Marsey' tag.

To be honest, I used to be SUPER protective and vague when it came to stuff at this stage of the story I wanted to tell with my fankids, and was also being sadly dangled along by Blizzard's breadcrumbs of lore---I was in a dance with Blizzard where, I did have a very strong idea of how I wanted the story to end, but I was also dependent on Blizzard for canon lore so that I could make my ending the most accurate, the most satisfying. But seeing as there's basically only lore drops now because Blizzard no longer gives a shit about continuity or quality, and basically the cast has expanded so much since I initially plotted it out that I'll probably have to reconfigure this ending in some capacity anyway, I can talk about it now.

Basically there were two avenues I could have taken with Doomfist, the first one, that actually had those Marsey fics, where it was basically a 'continuation' of the Doomfist cycle, that is, some guy challenges Doomfist for the gauntlet and is able to kill him and take the gauntlet, which obviously puts Seye into a lurch as Doomfist's son and the previously assumed successor. I literally didn't have a name for this would-be killer, and in a way, it didn't really matter because you as the reader weren't supposed to see Doomfist's killer as the rightful bearer of the mantle and Seye's whole arc would be defeating this guy (with Marti's help) and then basically shutting down the weird Metal Gear-esque war cult that's risen around the Doomfist gauntlet as a symbol.

The other option was that Doomfist would be killed in the Final Battle™ at Nepal by... drumroll... Junkrat and Roadhog. NOW BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME, Junkrat and Roadhog would also die in this fight. Roadhog would die before Junkrat, but Junkrat would basically be talking to a very clearly bled-out-past-the-point-of-no-return-and-unconscious Roadie like, "It's okay, Roadie, you can take a nap. I can wrap this up," Before pulling all of the pins on all the grenades on his little chest harness while clinging onto Doomfist. Okay you can yell at me more now. But mostly I loved the combination of dramatic irony of Doomfist being consumed in these fires of chaos, and of the ~Junkers~ of all people going out in a blaze of glory against one of Overwatch's Final Bosses. I had this in my brain for years before Junkrat even got his "I killed the Doomfist!!" elimination line, btw. Doomfist views conflict as its own sort of order, but ends up getting killed by the wacky Mad Max randos who have kind of been the comic relief this whole time. Basically the fact that the Doomfist gauntlet itself would also be destroyed in this kind of fight would aslo be the thing that ends the cycle. That was also the battle that was vaguely referenced in this fic.

In both potential deaths for Doomfist, Seye becomes disillusioned enough with Talon as an organization to basically split off and form his own splinter mercenary organization (I was going to use my Talon Goon OC's as his starting lineup, haha), and he also attempts to create his own mantle as "Earthshaker" but he's still deeply affected by Doomfist's death because that's so much of his identity and he's had this enormous fear of irrelevance all of his life. Like this isn't just the grief of losing a father, this is the threat of oblivion that he's dreaded his entire life. As for Seye's mother, Tejuka, it's less of a blow to her--she more or less came to terms with the fact that Doomfist really doesn't have the philosophy or lifestyle to "go peacefully in his sleep," and that's one of the reasons why they divorced and she put so much effort into grooming Seye to actually be the successor of Ogundimu Prosthetics. Dying is easy, living's harder, etc, etc.

#overwatch #doomfist #son of doomfist #A SEYE FAN OH MY GOD YAAAAAY #Me: I love stories of healing and redemption!!#also me: I have to kill off the Junkers because they're Rosencrantz and Guildenstern

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espionisms · 28 days

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{kiowa gordon, 32, 2spirit, he + him} we are so glad to see you safe, MILITARY STRATEGIST COMMANDER ALISTAIR WOLFF of MADAGASCAR! it's dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are OBSERVANT and METICULOUS enough to handle it. just don't let your STUBBORNNESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn't want everyone to find out YOU TRIED TO ASSASSINATE A NOBLE WITH A POISONED ARROW — AND SUCCEEDED.

BASICS.

name : alistair wolff. occupation : military strategist commander of madagascar. born : august 28th. orientation : demisexual. languages spoken : english ; malagasy ; german. previously : royal guard to the hatzfeld family.

HISTORY.

once, you were loyal. despite this country not being your home, despite your own displacement from the endless green, you took on this armour, sword, mantel as if you had been born for it. perhaps you were. born for such a position ; born that you could lead. you began to see war during the reckoning. you saw it at such a terrible, aching pace that it still makes your head spin. appearing on the fields in a manner that you never expected to return from again, the german family fallen to fragments and wishful thinking right before your very eyes. there was no point to remain. and in the end, your loyalty nearly cost you your life. on the shores of madagascar, you washed up. you remember their faces, you can remember your name, but the rest fades into that which is unimportant. you were here, upon the shoreline of a country who refused to be brought down low to the levels of the others. an independent country. one with the greenery that reminds you of a homeland you will never see. another mantle to bear. you burned down the german king's armour ; melted it and that great sword. you kept the wolf on the pommel as a reminder of who you are — who you have made yourself. there was so much to learn. so much to grasp. and you were given — peace. you were given — purpose. through the events to follow, you were the rock that sat in place upon the island, ensuring this nation's independence. returning back to roots that you forfeit, to knowledge that you surrendered to those who had the audacity to deem it unnecessary. now, these kinds of things are beyond necessary to know. you will take these risks ; you will see them through. you, after call, coated the poison dart frog's sweat against the arrowhead that you then shot. it pierce through the skull, the flesh, the temple. it was the first attempt and the last. there is only one way to test out the potency of these things, after all. you are not indebted to the malagasy royals. you are there by your choice, and by your choice, that is where you will remain. if the seeds are planted about any kind of rebellion, it will be to ensure that you nor your country will be taken advantage of — as you saw others be manipulated and cast down like chips on the table. you will not let these fortunes befall this place you have carved out for yourself. new friends may stem from old enemies, and new enemies, from old friends. and you have been hardened on the battlefield. you wear the full, red-drenched chainmail of this untouched place. whatever you touch will wish it had never seen you.

INSPIRATIONS.

daud, the knife of dunwall ( dishonoured ) ; captain hector barbossa ( pirates of the caribbean ) ; martin "marty" hart ( true detective, season one ) ; jin sakai ( ghost of tsushima ) .

#❥ alistair wolff ﹕ about.#theopulent.intro

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brandnulife · 10 months

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Riverdale Characters Who Should've Appeared in the Final Season

Alan Mayberry

Anthony Topaz

Arthur Adams

Ms. Appleyard

Bernardo Bixby

Britta Beach

Brooke Rivers

Mrs. Burble

Carlos

Charles Smith

Chic

Chief Russell

Chuck Clayton

Coach Clayton

Commandant Carter

Darla Dickenson

Diana Whitley

Dodger Dickenson

Donna Sweett

Dreyfus Starkweather

Eddie

Elio Grande

Eric Jackson

FP, Glady and Jellybean Jones

Farmer McGinty

Ginger Lopez

Heather

Hermosa Lodge

Holden Honey

Howard Taylor

Janet Weiss

Jeffery and George Augustine

Jessica

Jillian Drake

Jonathan

KO Kelly

Katy Keene

Laurie Lake

Lerman Logan

Loudres Luna

Louis Cypher

Malachai

Marsha Lin

Marty Mantle

Moose and Marcus Mason

Malcolm Moore

Melody Valentine

Minerva Marble

Mad Dog

Mrs. Mulwray

Ms. Wright

Nana Topaz

Nancy Woods

Nick, Simone and Xander St. Clair

Oscar Castillo

Paul Sowerberry

Peaches 'N Cream

Penny Peabody

Rick

Ricky DeSantos

Sabrina Spellman

Samm Pansky

Sherry Winters

Sierra McCoy

Sister Woodhouse

Sweet Pea

Terry

Tina Patel

Toby

Trev Brown

Valerie Brown

Xandra Cabot

#riverdale #the cw #archieverse

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dom-i-nate · 3 months

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Self Para | Out of Time

Who: Nate Mantle and Marty Mantle When: 03.23.24, evening Where: In town TW: physical abuse, emotional abuse, addiction.

It was getting to be too much being on campus. Nate had already been feeling like he was spiraling - between his father coming, Danny and Daisy moving forward with their claim, his unknown future with Ollie - it was all proving to be too much. Nate made it out of the room to head to a meeting, knowing it was the only thing that was going to stabilize him at the moment. He enjoyed the crisp air through his lungs as he walked into town towards the church the meeting was going to be at. And then, a single voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Nathan." Simple, clean, unemotional. He could feel his palms start to sweat and he tried to convince himself to turn on his heels towards the sound of the voice, but he couldn't just yet. "Are you going to look at me? Or continue this onslaught that I'm the worst father in the world?"

"Father," he sighed simply, finally making himself turn, but not taking a step closer to the other. "I'm surprised you sought me out."

"I didn't. I was walking to grab something from the corner store. I'm staying at this hotel," he said, gesturing back towards The Evans House, "Not that you have asked."

Nate sighed loudly and in frustration, "Father, I really have somewhere I need to be. So, if there's nothing else," he said, turning back around and heading towards the steps of the church.

"I didn't know you were a church goer," he said sternly, arms crossing over his chest.

"I'm not. It's just where my meeting is."

A harsh, disbelieved laugh cut through the air between them, causing Nate to turn back around again. "Meetings? Those didn't really work last time, did they, Nathan."

"I've been clean almost a year. This is the only thing that helps."

"Right. Until your next relapse. Rather hard to find a claim when you can't even gain control of yourself, how are you to control someone else?"

A throaty growl vibrated through his throat and Nate took a few steps closer towards the other. "Because claims aren't about control! They're about connection and communication!"

"Stop being so emotional, Nathan. It's a business transaction like anything else. And who you claim matters, and so far you've been back over a year and you're no closer! How are you going to take over the business without at least two claims, Nathan!?"

"Easy! I"m not going to!" he lashed out, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. "It took me a long time to know what I want, but I know that what I want is not your life. I don't want to run a company I don't care about and have a claim who is a mindless drone who's more afraid of me than committed to me!"

His father's hand came up with out warning, cracking him hard across the face. Nate spun in the punch's direction, his hand coming up to hold his face. "Watch your tone, Nathan James," his father warned with the same cold tone Nate was giving him, before releasing another punch to the side of his face again. "You will not disrespect me more than you already have. You are going nowhere, Nathan. You've been a failure since you got that girl knocked up, and you couldn't even do that right. And ever since, it's been failure after failure!" he cried out, a few more hits to the dark haired boy bowled over in pain. Nate coughed and spit, watching blood appear on the side walk. His father came over, grabbing hard to the back of Nate's neck, bending himself down to remain face to face with his son. "I will be paying more attention. You will not disgrace this family again," he growled, nate seething in his father's grip. "Grow up, Nathan." he said before shoving Nate hard down to the ground and began walking away.

Nate breathed heavily, remaining on the ground a bit as he tried to make heads or tails of what happened, feeling his eye already start to burn and swell. After several minutes he pulled himself to his feet. He looked at the door to the church, trying to will himself to go inside. But with the physical pain, the emotional turmoil, he couldn't bring himself to do it. So, instead, he walked further down the street to the Whyte Wyrm and ducked behind the alley. There was no conversation, there was no explanation as the Serpent put the small baggy in Nate's hand for nate to disappear into a tiny bathroom, taking a dollar bill out of his pocket.

#self para #out of time #tw: abuse #tw: addiction #tw: drugs

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