#most of my computer knowledge DOES come from being too fucking poor to pay for video games
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addendum that cannot be put in a nice way either: is self sufficiency in regards to technology just not being encouraged or taught or. or what. dear god. i learned how to pirate as a preteen bc i could not afford things. is this just another economic divide
#blue moon personal post#most of my computer knowledge DOES come from being too fucking poor to pay for video games#98% of my catalogue is all legally obtained. promise. giggles#oh and modding for games too#thats not just a computer thing either i learned how to jailbreak phones and load hacked apks bc i was too poor to afford things#fond memories of teaching an exfriend how to download an android emulator and load a hacked apk of the arcana#they were convinced their computer was going to fucking EXPLODE and theyd get KILLED
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The Ruler and the Killer (Syrena Aster x Sunburst Squadron)
Rating: R or M (I don’t know, yo)
Word Count: 7,376
Warnings: DEATH (there is character death in this you have been warned), canonical-type violence, cursing, the Heretics are meanie butt heads with meanie butt head rules, brief mention of a blowjob (im proud, i only used cock in this once), my possible typos and grammatical errors (please let me know if i should warn about anything else!!!)
A/N: Thanks to @jangofctts again for creating the Sunburst Squadron and letting me use them. And thank you for letting me kILL MAX. Also, thank you to @weebblossom for letting me steal your Heretic personality for Fenn.
Someone once told Syrena, when she was a young girl still surrounded by the loving embrace of her mother, that a person can be brought back to life just by remembering them. If that were true, Syrena had a long list of names she’d like to bring back. Most with a black check next to their name: the people she wanted to bring back just to kill all over again. People who deserved to die for a second time, like her mother who once held her so tightly to her chest and promised to love her till the end of time.
But there were a few she would bring back because, truthfully, they did not deserve to die. She shouldn’t have killed them and she would do anything to turn back the hands of time to fix her mistake...her error that resulted in the blood of an innocent spilled on her behalf. But like Death, Time was a fickle friend to Syrena and once something is done, there wasn’t enough money or praying in the world that she could do to change it.
Syrena frowned to herself, a dark unsettling feeling sinking in the pit of her stomach. It was the type of feeling someone wouldn’t want before they were about to commit a crime against the Republic. She’d had it once before, when she took her first solo job after her training finished. She had just turned sixteen. Three innocent people died that day, three names added to her list that she would bring back. Syrena looked around the ship, wondering if the others had the same feeling, but they were all preoccupied with checking their weapons on last time.
“What’s on your mind?” a sweet voice said, tearing Syrena away from her thoughts.
She looked up to see Nettie, a plucky Rodian that had a knack for getting too involved in other people’s business. Syrena supposed it fit: Nettie was a hacker, a damn good one too, so of course she would try to get as much information out of a person as possible as she did with a computer. Nettie’s bulbous black eyes stared down at Syrena, trying to silently unlock the secrets she held. They looked as if starlight was streaking through them. It made Syrena uncomfortable and only added to the unsettling feeling in her stomach, making it expand upward and try to claw its way out her throat.
Syrena had known Nettie for some time now, probably the most out of anyone on their four person team. They had been roommates during the beginning years of training, spending nearly six year stuck in the same small room together and trying to survive. Nettie was sweet and soft, everything a Heretic wasn’t supposed to be. They spent years whispering secrets and crying to one another, only letting the other person in. They were each other’s rock during those six years. The only reason why they went their separate ways was because they had to choose their speciality, to continue their training and become the deadly weapons the Heretics were known throughout the galaxy as. The Rodian chose technology and hacking, while Syrena stuck with combat and weaponry.
“All this trouble just for some information,” Syrena said, rubbing the palms of her hands on her thighs. The ship they were on lurched to the left again, the various weapons hanging from the walls clinging together. “Seems a little overkill to have four people for this.”
It was rare for there to be a mission that required more than just two Heretics. And even then, one was usually good enough. But for this specific mission, there were two teams of four. They didn’t even know what information they were after.
“Get in, get the information, get out. Kill anyone that gets in your way, if necessary,” the Creator had told them when giving the assignment. The Creator wanted everything, so they would get everything. The other team would take care of the distraction.
“Knowing your enemy from the inside out is the only true way of instilling fear,” Nettie said, slowly sliding into the open seat next to Syrena.
Syrena recoiled at her words, “Since when was the Republic our enemy? We haven’t chosen a side in over a millenia.”
“Perhaps our current Creator wishes to change that,” the Rodian pondered.
“‘Bout time, if you ask me,” another voice said, cutting through their conversation. The melodic tone clashed with Syrena’s patience like loud cymbals being beaten together over and over again. “The Republic has been taking advantage of the Heretics for decades now. Glad we finally have someone in charge that has a clear vision of what we should have always been.”
“Oh, piss off back to Dothomir, Fenn,” Syrena said, rolling her eyes. She leaned back and shut her eyes, barely catching the snarl form on the Zabraks face. “The Heretics shouldn’t take sides. We’re nothing more than the shadows that charge the wealthy bastards of the galaxy a bit too much to do their dirty work.”
“Rich coming from you, snake,” Fenn hissed, stepping closer to Syrena.
“You got something to say, Pointy? Say it.” Syrena’s eyes were still closed, but she could feel the heat and rage radiating off of the Zabrak.
“You’re fucking a clone. We all know it.”
Syrena’s eyes shot open into a glare, “Who I’m fucking isn’t anyone’s business, especially yours.”
“If it clouds your piss poor judgement on a job, then yeah it is my business.”
There was a shock of electricity throughout the cabin of the ship. In an instant, Syrena was on her feet, the blade she kept hidden in her wrist vambrace shot out and pressed against the Zabrak’s neck. Fenn, for all of her faults, was just as quick as Syrena. Her own vibroblade was pointing upwards against Syrena’s stomach. One movement from either of them would result in a painful and bloody death. They were snarling at each other, animalistic noises coming from their throats.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Alyze said.
Alyze was one of the oldest Heretics. They were well respected in the community and had a favorable opinion with the Republic after helping to train the clone ARC Troopers at the beginning of the war. It was a well paying gig, one any Heretic would jump to take. But Alyze was the best choice for the job.
Syrena and Fenn continued glaring at each other. Syrena pressed the knife harder onto Fenn’s skin, satisfied when the Zabrak winced at the sting of the freshly sharpened blade. Alyze finally stepped close to the two, wanting the situation to diffuse. If Alyze was in a worse mood, they would have physically stopped the encounter, but their thoughts and care were focused on the mission.
“I said enough,” Alyze barked, their irritation with the two smaller women growing, “We’re almost at the drop location. Get your heads out of your asses and get ready for deployment.”
Fenn hissed at Syrena before drawing her vibroblade away. Syrena could only laugh to herself as she retracted her blade. It slowly slid back into its secret compartment.
“Unless your mouth is the one on my pussy, shut the fuck up about who I’m sleeping with, got it?” Syrena warned. Fenn went back to her seat, keeping her glare on Syrena.
Syrena approached Nettie again, holding onto one of the overhanging bars. The closer the ship got to the drop point, the bumpier it became.
“Fenn has a point you know,” Nettie said, looking up at Syrena. “Your infatuation with the clone could be detrimental to this and future missions. I give it a 88% chance of failing and resulting in the death of the clone or yourself.”
“Nettie, can you just,” Syrena sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “just not be a know-it-all right now.”
“Interesting, though, how they are allowing this relationship to continue.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The powers that be. The Creator. Myrkos.” Syrena frowned at the mention of her old Master. “They stopped Alyze’s relationship with that Jedi on Kamino before it became....a hindrance to the Creator’s objective.”
“Well clearly they don’t think that this is anything more than me screwing around.”
“For now,” Nettie said, her voice sounding far away. “Though, you have been put in their favor since you provided the intel on when the troopers change their shifts, giving us the perfect opportunity to drop in. Does your clone know that you used him for information? Is that the type of bedroom talk you can get out of him? Impressive.”
“Nettie, just...just shut up, please.”
“My apologies, no harm intended,” Nettie said with a smile.
She was beginning to make Syrena feel uneasy, and rather guilty. She had gotten the information out of Bruiser during one of their more...intimate encounters, but he didn’t have to spill the beans. It was his choice to tell her, his choice to trust her even though she had warned him not to.
“Syrena,” Nettie began again, “I don’t know what gods you pray to or if you even believe in any. But you better hope that they are on your side. Who knows exactly what would happen should you lose favor with them. Or worse, lose favor with the Creator.”
“Let’s go,” Alyze interjected before Syrena could fully process what Nettie had said, “we’re at the drop zone.”
Getting into the Republic military outpost on Coruscant was easy, especially with the knowledge Syrena had provided regarding trooper shift changes. In the end, it was an easy drop, with a quick landing on the roof before the four of them got in through the ventilation system. Surely by now the Republic would learn to get smaller vents.
“It changes all the time,” Bruiser had said to her in confidence, his words breathy as her tongue swirled around the head of his flushed leaking cock. “Never know until, oh kriff, never know until we’re called.”
She only hoped that they weren’t stationed there today. She usually warned Bruiser if she was involved in any unsavory Heretic business. Though it was typically only a, ‘Hey I’m arriving in like five minutes to fuck shit up, see you then,’ type of warning. But five minutes was better than nothing.
“Syrena,” Alyze harshly whispered, pulling her out of her memories, “Get your head in the fucking mission.”
“Sorry,” Syrena mumbled, checking the hallway for the third time to see if anyone was coming.
They just needed to clear one more hallway before they made it to the main room containing anything and everything regarding the Republic’s Military Intelligence. Just two more blast doors and then the easy part would come. Nettie was ready, her gear already hooked into the security system and working on encoding the firewalls.
“Their systems are as protected as this building,” Nettie scoffed sarcastically. “Ray shields are down, we can proceed.”
“Good, let's get this shit over with,” Fenn said, walking down the hallway with her blaster drawn.
Alyze and Nettie trailed behind her, their own weapons at the ready. Syrena, however, looked back the way they came, the unsettling feeling rising once again. She could feel the Force stirring ominously, hear the way the electricity cackled throughout the walls. Something was terribly wrong, but Syrena had no idea what it was or if she could do anything about it.
“Syrena,” Nettie said. Syrena turned, almost slamming straight into the Rodian, “Let’s go.”
Syrena nodded shortly, following the shorter woman carefully down the hallway. Her nerves were on high alert and she couldn’t read the energy in the Force anymore.
They got into the room quickly, Nettie making her way to the main computer to set up her gear.
“Syrena, you stay here with Nettie, make sure everything goes alright. Fenn and I will scout the hallways,” Alyze ordered before looking at the spunky Zabrak, “We’re here to incapacitate only. I don’t care what the Creator said, I don’t want any unnecessary deaths.”
“What’s the fun in that?” Fenn whined, “If you ask me, the only good clone is a dead one.”
“It’s a good thing no one asked you,” Alyze snapped before looking to Syrena, “Lock the doors behind us.”
Syrena nodded, sending a seething glare towards Fenn. She truly would not care if something happened to Fenn during this mission. If she had the opportunity to, Syrena was sure she would just step to the side and let blaster fire turn the Zabrak to dust.
She watched as Fenn stalked back into the hallway, putting her brass knuckles on. Syrena had been on the receiving end of one of Fenn’s beat downs. She knew the power and aggression behind Fenn’s hits and only hoped that whoever would be receiving them today truly deserved it. Alyze grabbed Syrena by the arm, pulling her close to their side.
“You need to promise me something,” they said, their dark box braids brushing against Syrena’s forearm, “I need you to be one of us if your clone and his friends are the ones here. I need you to remember who you are.”
Syrena looked up at Alyze, their dark eyes boring into her own pink ones, “You ever regret it? Letting them determine who you could be with or love, like a good little Heretic?”
Syrena’s words cut through the air, her accusatory tone causing Alyze to recoil. They dropped Syrena’s arm, “You’re the reason why we are here, Syrena. Don’t forget that.”
Syrena watched Alyze follow Fenn out the door, a small twinge of regret surging through her bones before she shut and locked the blast doors.
******
“How long until we are back online?” Commander Fox asked into his commlink, his station in a frenzy since they were locked out of the security system. He had taken a small group of troopers, along with Commander Blanche and most of the Sunburst Squadron, to go hall by hall, looking for the intruders. Two of the members were needed elsewhere.
“Won’t know for awhile, sir,” the trooper on the other end responded. “We keep coming across more and more viruses.”
“Can you tell me anything?” Fox asked exasperated.
“Got a good photo of the perps. It’s ‘bout 20 minutes old, can’t confirm where inside they are. Forwarding to you now, sir.”
He looked back to Commander Blanche, signaling for him to come over. With a long stride, Blanche made his way to Fox, speaking once he got close enough, “I think it’s best if we split up, my squad will head to the east while yours goes west. Cover more ground that way.”
“I agree,” Fox said with a nod. In an instant a hologram photo was pinged to his wrist link. “These are who we are dealing with. Their running facial recognition now.”
Blanche took a long look at the hologram, his face dropping into a frown as he recognized one of the faces, “Dank farrik, Heretics. We need more troopers.”
“Well that explains the other attack,”Fox said to himself. “Working simultaneously.”
“Other attack?” Blanche asked.
“Another group of four, what I’m assuming now, Heretics bombed a hospital. Thorn has the rest of my men and the 104th to help with the wreckage. 212th are trying to track them down.” Fox looked back to his wrist link, the blue hued photo flickering as the communication systems surged. He had dealt with Heretics before, lost men to them. They were feral and unyielding beings with no clear allegiance, which made them even more dangerous. “You recognize any of them?”
Blanche took a closer look at the hologram, his face dropping when he did recognize one of the small figures, “Syrena Aster. She’s, uh...helped us a few times, been against us more.”
If that were only the case. Blanche took a quick peek back at the rest of his men, his eyes settling on Bruiser’s large form before looking back at the hologram.
“Do you trust her?”
“I trust her about as far as I can throw her, and even then she’d probably turn around and stab me,” Blanche scoffed.
“Do any of your men trust her?”
Blanche was silent at this. It wasn’t a secret that Bruiser had some sort of relationship with the Heretic. Blanche and the General had both warned him against it, but Syrena had the heavy infantry trooper wrapped around her finger.
“We don’t know what they are after or who paid them to get it. I need to know if any of your men would hesitate at any moment with doing their job.”
“They’ll do their jobs,” Blanche snapped. “It’ll be fine.”
Fox paused for a moment before nodding curtly, “We’ll meet back here in 30 minutes if we don’t find anyone.”
“Got it,” Blanche said.
“And Commander,” Fox said, dropping the informal nature of their conversation, “If they went to where I think they were going, we can’t let them get away with that information. Engage if your team finds them, kill ‘em if necessary.”
Blanche nodded again, his hands clenching and unclenching. He turned away, stalking back to his team. His mind was a mess. It just had to be her with them, couldn’t have been some faceless Heretic that they didn't know. But this was Syrena and although most of the squadron found her just tolerable, there were others that liked her, that needed her.
“We know who we are dealing with, Blanchie?” Max asked. Just his soothing demeanor was enough to calm the Commander down.
“She’s short, blonde, and green,” Blanche said, “and more annoying than a Gungan.”
“Syrena’s not that annoying,” Max argued softly. Blanche could picture the smile on the sergeant’s face under the helmet. “Plus, she makes Bruiser happy.”
Blanche grimaced under his helmet, keeping a rather mean comment about how it was her mouth and cunt that made Bruiser happy, not Syrena herself. “You’re too nice for your own good.”
Max sighed. Maybe he was, but he’d rather believe that Syrena wasn’t as bad as everyone believed than condemn her to be just an evil seductress. He looked over to Bruiser, “You think he knows she’s here?”
“No,” Blanche admitted, watching as Bruiser checked over his Z-6 rotary blaster cannon, “And let's keep it that way for now.”
Max nodded stiffly. He didn’t like keeping things from his team members, especially something like this. Blanche maybe didn’t see it, but Max had noticed the way Bruiser and Syrena were around each other. How they seemed to be each other’s center of gravity. He heard the noises coming from Bruiser’s room and the soft words they whispered to each other. He knew he wasn’t the only one that saw their searing looks and secretive touches. It was like they were making sure that the other was actually real, that they weren’t just some spectral being about to fade into the ether.
The team moved out, Blanche only relaying that there were four possible perps: highly armed and highly dangerous. The hallways had been long abandoned, any officer or staff member told to evacuate the building when the alarms first went off. They went door to door, checking to see if anyone was hidden in the dark corners of unlit rooms.
Blanche realized as they passed another empty set of rooms that they had transitioned into the Naval Intelligence headquarters and were approaching the main intelligence room. All of the GAR’s battle strategies, outpost locations, and other important information was stored there.
“I hear something,” Jaws said, positioning himself behind a large column. He signaled for the others to find cover.
There was a large bang, like the sound of blast doors shut, followed by two bickering voices.
“You egg her on anymore and I’ll let her kill you,” one said.
“You would take that bitches side,” the other voice sneered, “You are both whores for Republic dogs.”
“Fenn,” the first voice dropped low and threatening, “if you speak to me that way again, I will tear your heart out of your chest and eat it before letting her finish you off.”
The troopers were silent as the footsteps of the Heretic’s retreated down another hallway.
“We need to get those blast doors open,” Blanche said.
“I can shoot at it?” Bruiser suggested, lifting the blaster cannon up a little.
Max shook his head, “Takes too long, buddy. I got some detonators, but I need to get closer.”
“Alright,” Blanche said with a nod, “Sweets, Fuse, Blue, you three stay here and watch our backs. They might find a way to circle around. Bruiser, Max, Jaws, and I will approach the doors. Has anyone heard from Kami or Void?”
“Kami said they shot down a ship that tried to escape to the lower levels, but can’t confirm who was in it or if it was even the one they were after,” Max said, “Void’s up in his arms in injuries.”
“Alright, let’s make this quick so we can rendezvous with the General and others,” Blanche ordered, getting his blaster at the ready. He hoped it would be quick and simple. He hoped Syrena would see them and somehow convince her team to just back off and leave.
But nothing was ever simple with Syrena.
The four of them slowly approached the blaster doors, their footsteps silent against the shiny floors, their warped reflections inching closer and closer to the intended target with each step. Blanche looked back for a moment, watching as Sweets, Fuse, and Blue’s figures got farther and farther away. The hallway seemed longer, more narrow, than it actually was. Blanche’s heart was racing, he could feel his hands and neck sweating the closer they got to the blast doors.
“Fenn, You hear that?” a voice said. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere as the crisp sound echoed off the hallways. The four troopers quickly took cover behind columns and sections of the wall that jutted out.
“No,” the second voice, Fenn, responded with a giggle, “but I can smell them. Looks like we’re going to have some fun after all, Alyze. Come out, come out wherever you are, boys. We just want to play.”
Fenn’s voice was melodic and sweet, almost like she was singing to them. She was the one to fire first, sending a scalding red blaster shot where Jaws’s head had been seconds before.
It happened all at once, blaster fire coming from both sides, igniting the hallway in angry flurries of red. It was so loud, so aggressive. The hallway flooded with smoke as the blaster fires sizzled and seared into the walls.
“One coming from our end!” Blue called into the commlink. “I repeat, one coming from our end.”
They had been able to find their way through the maze of hallways, with one Heretic approaching from the blast doors, while the other took charge from the other side. Though the Heretics were outmanned, their skills and ferocity made up for it.
Blanche heard a strangled cry before Blue’s voice echoed through the comms again, “Sweet’s been hit. He’s alright, just a shot to the shoulder. Can’t see the perp though.”
“Stop hiding!” Fenn’s teasing voice echoed above the blaster shots, “I want to play!”
Blanche turned to Max, “Are we close enough?”
Max peaked over the side of the wall, a blaster shot narrowly missing his head. It singed the cheek of his helmet, leaving behind a blackened streak of soot, “I can’t tell. Might get the door, might miss it. It’ll be a good distraction though.”
Blanche thought for a moment. They hadn’t seen or heard from Syrena. She was either inside of the room or Blanche had misidentified the person in the holophoto. He secretly hoped for the latter.
“Do it,” he ordered Max, “Get that kriffing door open.”
Max nodded, reaching to his side and taking out two thermal detonators. One was bound to hit the door, right? He pressed the bottoms on the top, making sure the red light was blinking before he crouched down. He swung his arm back, ready to release the detonators before Bruiser’s voice on the other side of the hallway made him hesitate.
“Syrena?” Bruiser called. He ceased fire as he saw Syrena appear from behind the blast doors.
“Wait, wait! Max, wait!” Blanche hurriedly said, looking down at Max.
But, it was too late.
The sudden change in order didn’t catch up fast enough with Max’s hand and one of the detonators was released, rolling down the hallway. He quickly shut off the other, the red light disappearing as it powered down. He let it drop to the ground in a thud. But the other one continued to make its way down the hallway right towards Syrena.
Max and Blanche both looked at each other, before looking back at the detonator. Max attempted to scramble forward to get it, but a blaster shot from Fenn forced him back. Blanche watched as Syrena’s face contorted from confusion to panic and she took in the scene before her. He realized she didn’t know they were the ones that would deal with the intruders.
She didn’t know.
“Oh no,” Max and Blanche whispered at the same time, as Syrena’s expression changed again to horror as the detonator rolled past her foot and into the room.
****
Syrena watched as Nettie continued to shift her way through the Republic firewalls, installing virus after virus so that they wouldn’t be able to stop her, while she simultaneously scoured through the information. It was taking the Rodian longer than expected to get to everything and scramble it to her server the created just for this. The uploading process was the longest, having to go through multiple security systems in order to begin the upload.
The two heard loud blaster shots coming from beyond the blast doors, ricocheting off of the thick metal with a booming twang. They had started only a minute ago, getting louder and louder as whoever was out there closed in.
“How much longer?” Syrena asked, stepping behind Nettie and looking over her shoulder. She scrunched her nose, unable to read the various symbols and numbers that Nettie was typing.
“This one file is giving me some issues,” Nettie said, her teeth gritting. “Go see if they need help.”
“Alyze told me to stay with you,” Syrena argued.
“I know what they said,” Nettie snapped. She clenched her fists once, taking a calming breathe, “Your energy is just too much for me to handle. Just go...I should be done any minute now.”
Syrena bit her lip, leaning back up and stepping away from the workstation. Nettie’s shoulders seemed to relax as the shadow of nervous energy retreated with Syrena.
Syrena clicked her wrist link, “What’s going on out there?”
“We’re taking on heavy fire. Hurry up in there,” Alyze answered.
“I’m opening the blast doors,” Syrena said. “Nettie’s almost done, we can hold up in here until she’s finished.”
“That’s a negative,” Alyze growled, “Don’t open the doors. That’s an order.”
“Oh, bite me,” Syrena quipped back.
She walked to the blast door, clicking the controls for them to open. As they slowly began to unlatch, that unsettling feeling settled in Syrena again. It was painful and tight, slowly swirling through her chest and stomach all the way to her fingers and toes. The door continued to open and Syrena ducked to evade a stray blaster fire.
“Syrena?” a familiar voice said, the booming sound muffled by the blaster fire.
She looked up, recognizing the voice. Realization slowly melted into her bones as she watched Alyze and Fenn fire at the Sunburst Squadron.
“Wait, wait!” a man hurriedly called out, “Max, wait!”
Syrena watched as the clone sergeant rolled a circular thermal detonator towards the opening door. It was like time had turned to cooling lava, thick and heavy and moving slowly, and all she could do was watch. Her breath hitched in her throat as it rolled past her feet and towards where Nettie was seated.
“Almost got it!”
“Nettie, move!”
Syrena and Nettie shouted at the same time, the Rodian not seeing the explosive stop just shy of her feet. Syrena began to rush forward, towards Nettie and the bomb.
The explosive went off and Syrena was launched out of the room in a burst of smoke and flames. Her head slammed against the metal floor and she felt a sharp pain through her side. Syrena could only hear the yells and screams of everyone around her before she succumbed to the darkness.
She woke up to Fenn screaming at someone to stay quiet, followed by a loud crunch. Her eyes shot open, realizing that they were back in the room her and Nettie had been in. Though, it looked nothing like the room anymore. It was like a bomb went off. Syrena slowly remembered that a bomb did go off.
Her eyes followed a body sized streak of blood leading from the blast doors right to where she was located, propped up against a cabinet. She was sure she would have remembered being dragged back into the room, but everything was a blur since the explosion. Syrena tried to take a deep breath, tried to blink away the black spots that clouded the edges of her vision, but her lungs stung. She sputtered out a cough, phlegm and blood dripping onto her chin as she took in her surroundings.
The tightness in her chest and burning in her lungs increased as she saw Nettie’s mangled and charred body lying peacefully on the ground. She was missing an arm and the lower half of her left leg. Syrena blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over as she was overcome with grief. She remembered letting Nettie expertly braid her hair when they were younger and the countless hours they spent consoling each other after a particularly rough day. She remembered her final goodbye as Nettie moved out of the tiny space they shared, the silent words of sisterly love and adoration for one another passed through the Force. And now, nothing. Nothing in the Force was signaling to her that her fellow Heretic...her friend was alive.
Syrena heard another one of Fenn’s engaged screams and she looked to the commotion. Alyze and Fenn, in their rage, had somehow managed to incapacitate every member of the Sunburst Squadron, bringing them to the center of the room and binding their hands together. Not all of them were awake and in her haziness, Syrena couldn’t tell who were the ones that were lying motionless on the ground. She could see the rise and fall of their chests, soothing the panic that rose. They were all alive.
But Nettie was dead.
“Syre, can you hear me? It’s Ja-”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Fenn screamed at the helmet clad trooper, her brass knuckle covered fist slamming to the side of his head. The plastoid cracked under her punch and his helmet was launched off his head.
Jaws.
“That’s enough,” Alyze said, cutting through Fenn’s rage. They were close to Syrena, hurriedly scouring through a medic bag.
Fenn growled something incoherent as a response. She gripped the collar of Jaws’s chest plate, dragging him over with the rest of the members. She wrapped a piece of fabric around Jaws’s mouth, mumbling how tired she was of his pleas and sobs.
As she blinked away the black spots, Syrena could make out the bruised and bloodied faces of those without helmets: Blanche, Max, Jaws, and Bruiser. Her heart clenched and she attempted to get up, but a sharp pain in her side stilled her movements.
Alyze bent down next to Syrena, grabbing the green woman’s face in their scarred hands, “How do you feel?”
“I can’t,” Syrena coughed out, bile rising in her throat, “I can’t fucking breath.”
She touched her chest and her stomach, her breath hitching once again when she felt a piece of smooth metal sticking out the side of her abdomen. She gripped the metal, yelling out in pain as it moved inside of her.
“Syrena,” Bruiser called, trying to break free from the restraints. Fenn hit him across the face, telling him to be quiet. It only caused Syrena to move around more, wanting to wrap her hands around the Zabrak’s throat and squeeze until the bones cracked.
“Calm down” Alyze said softly, their larger hand wrapping around Syrena’s.
“I have a fucking piece of metal sticking out of me, Alyze! I’m not going to be fucking calm,” Syrena growled, “Get this thing out of me so I can kill that bitch!”
“You always were so impatient.” Alyze rolled their eyes, “On the count of five, we’re going to take this out and then I’m going to stuff the wound with bacta and cover it. It’s not going to be pleasant.”
“You know what isn’t pleasant-” Syrena started, glaring at them.
“Will you hurry it up already?” Fenn snapped, interrupting Syrena, “We don’t have the time to diddle daddle around.”
Syrena took a deep breath in before looking at Alyze and nodding stiffly.
“Okay...one, two three-” Alyze ripped the piece of metal from Syrena’s abdomen, a thick river of blood running out of the wound.
“I thought you said on five!” Syrena snarled. She felt like her entire body was on fire as Alyze stuffed the wound with bacta. The pain was almost unbearable.
“You’ll live,” Alyze quipped.
They put one large bacta patch on top, covering the rest of the wound. With careful hands, Alyze wrapped gauze around Syrena’s abdomen and stomach, tying the ends tightly. It was already stained on the edges with her blood, but it would keep her alive until they found a doctor. Alyze slowly helped Syrena up, allowing her to lean against the cabinet. She would need help to get back to the ship, further setting them back. But Alyze couldn’t lose another person.
All three of their wrist links beeped, causing the Heretics to look at the notification, though Syrena’s movements were lethargic and slow. Nettie had done it: the last of the information had been uploaded to their server.
“Let’s go,” Alyze ordered, wrapping their arm around Syrena’s middle, “Leave them here.”
Alyze began to take their first steps forward before Fenn’s growling voice stopped their movements.
“We can’t leave yet. We have rules for situations like this Alyze.”
Alyze shut their eyes tightly and cursed under their breath. They hoped that the surprise of the explosion and the news that they successfully completed their mission would be enough. But Fenn liked to follow the rules and was stubborn enough to risk them getting captured to see them through.
Alyze gazed down at Syrena, expecting her to make some sort of sarcastic remark, but she was silent. They had seen Syrena take worse hits and injuries. Kriff, Alyze had been the one doing the damage to the shorter woman a few times. But here, as she leaned against Alyze’s body, it looked like Syrena was about to fall to the ground dead. She wasn’t even looking at Fenn. Her pink serpent-like eyes were bleak and focused entirely on the clone troopers kneeling by Fenn’s feet.
“This is the one that did it,” Fenn said, standing behind Max and pushing him forward. He fell hard onto his hands.
“We don’t have time for this,” Alyze tried to argue.
“Well, make time!” Fenn yelled, “Nettie is dead because of him. Syrena is injured. He needs to die.”
Blanche, Bruiser, and Jaws all protested at once, Jaws’s voice muffled by the gag.
“Please,” Blanche pleaded, his lip split and left eye swelling from Fenn’s beating, “Please, I’m the one that gave the orders. Leave him.”
“Blanche,” Max said softly.
“No! Just-just shut up, Max.” Blanche looked to Alyze. “Take me instead.”
“We are not as lawless as you might believe, clone,” Alyze said, “We do follow a code. You may have said the orders, but your hand was not the one that released the detonator.”
“I’ll do it,” Fenn said, taking her vibroblade out.
“No.” Alyze looked from Max to Syrena. “Syrena has to be the one to do it.”
“What? No,” Bruiser said harshly, “No she isn’t doing anything. Syre...tell them you aren’t doing anything.”
“You can’t be serious, Alyze,” Fenn scoffed, “She doesn’t have it in her. She’s grown soft. If anything, we should tell Myrkos when we get back and have her sent to the Pit or, better yet, decommissioned.”
Syrena was still silent. Her gaze went from the Sunburst Squadron to Nettie’s body. She wished she had been quicker to realize what was happening, faster on her feet. She was a Heretic for crying out loud, she could have Force pushed Nettie out of the blast area. But she was too focused on the Sunburst Squadron, too focused on worrying about their safety. In that moment, she allowed them to make her forget who she was and it cost her friend her life.
“She is the only survivor of the attack,” Alyze explained, “She knows the rules, a life for a life, and she will follow them.”
“Syrena, please,” Blanche begged.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered, her eyes tearing from Nettie to Max. All she could think of when she saw him was her failures. Her failure to keep Nettie alive and her failure to keep the Sunburst troopers safe and out of Heretic politics. She didn’t want any of this, but it was happening and she couldn’t stop it.
A cacophony of no’s and pleas came from the clone troopers as they all tried to break free of their constraints. Fenn backhanded Blanche, causing him to stagger to the side. He spit out to the side, a mixture of his blood and salvia splattering against the concrete floor.
As Syrena staggered towards Max, Blanche and Bruiser continued to plead with her, offering their life in exchange for his. It was a noble appeal really, but Syrena knew that it wouldn’t meet the most rigid law of the Heretics. And she knew Max wouldn’t allow it to happen; he wouldn’t let one of his brother’s suffer a gruesome fate for something he did. He took a life, so he would pay for it with his own.
Syrena didn’t want him to die. She knew Max, knew the kind of person he was. He was kind, almost to a fault. He was nice and welcoming to her the moment they met, something not even Bruiser had been.
But rules were rules and Syrena was ready to follow them. She would be the one to watch the light leave his eyes, to feel his last breath waft against her face, to add him to her list of lives that she wished she could bring back.
She would be his murderer.
Syrena slowly kneeled in front of Max, ignoring the searing pain in her side. She blocked out the room, shutting out Blanche and Bruiser’s cries and Fenn’s yells for them to be quiet. She focused entirely on Max, taking in how he had sat back on his knees, his shoulders slumped forward and into himself. He hadn’t looked up since Fenn had brought him forward. His eyes were locked on Nettie’s body, and Syrena could see a few tears begin to stain his tanned, flushed cheeks. She reached out and touched one of them, rubbing the tear between her fingers.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whispered softly to her. “I didn’t mean-I didn’t want to kill anybody.”
“I know,” she replied, her hand moving to rest on his shoulder. “You understand that I have to do this.”
He finally looked up at her, a small warm smile appearing on his face, “Yeah…It’s alright.”
“It’s not alright.” Syrena couldn’t help the way her voice broke, as she settled her other hand on his other shoulder. “Are you afraid?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “Are you?”
“Terrified.”
Max nodded back to Bruiser, “Take care of him will you? Take care of all of them. They need someone to keep them on their toes.”
“Can hardly take care of myself,” she replied with a small smile.
“You aren’t as bad as you think you are, you know? I can see it in your eyes.”
Blanche’s broken voice cut through the air, “Please, Syrena. Please don’t kill him. I’m begging you.”
She could hear the sobs he tried to hold back. She wouldn’t look at Blanche or the others. She couldn’t. So instead, she let her pain and anger take over, allowing the Dark Side to wash through her system and act as a crutch. Syrena didn’t want to feel this.
Max turned his head, his sweet smile still on his face as he looked at Blanche, “It’s okay Blanchie, I got this.”
His last syllables were short and stuttered as the hidden knives in Syrena’s wrist vambraces sprung out, sinking deep into his chest. Bruiser and Jaws choked out sobs, their cries flooding the room as they were unable to form words. And Blanche. Blanche was beyond broken.
Max turned his head back to Syrena. She had gotten him in the weak points of his armor, piercing down into his heart. She watched, her face expressionless, as his sweet face, still smiling softly at her, became still as he slumped onto the ground. His wonderfully warm eyes faded into nothingness.
A life for a life.
“NO!” Blanche screamed, trying in vain to get up. All he saw was red, all he felt was pure agony and hatred as Syrena slowly pulled her hands back, revealing the red covered blades. “No!”
Fenn put her vibroblade to his neck, “You clones just don’t know when to shut up do you?”
“Back off Fenn,” Syrena said weakly, unable to tear her eyes from Max’s body. She hurt all over and her side stung.
“Maybe I’ll have to make you shut up,” Fenn laughed, ignoring Syrena.
“I said back off!” Syrena shouted, Force pushing Fenn away from Blanche and the others. She was on her feet in an instant, ignoring the dizzying pain on her side and head. “We got what we came here for, now let’s go.”
“Syrena’s right. They’ll be fully online and operational soon,” Alyze said.
Fenn grumbled curses under her breath before putting away her vibroblade. She bent down and picked up Nettie’s body, slinging it over her shoulder with ease. They would need to give her a proper burial, a Heretic’s goodbye.
She stopped by the Sunburst Squadron on her way to the blast doors, sneering at them. She was enjoying their pain. Enjoying how they seemed unable to process what happened. Bruiser and Jaws cried for their fallen brother as Sweets and Void began regaining consciousness. What a sight to wake up to: the body of their beloved sergeant dead in front of them and a seething Blanche.
Fenn grabbed Max’s helmet from the ground, tossing it once in the air before smiling ruefully at Syrena, “A nice trophy, don’t you think?”
Before Syrena had the chance to lunge at her, Alyze wrapped their large arm around Syrena’s middle again to keep her from falling. She hadn’t even realized that she was losing balance. Her wound needed immediate medical attention.
Syrena didn’t look at the Sunburst Squadron as the three Heretics made their way out of the room. She didn’t watch as they scrambled to Max’s side, didn’t see Blanche’s binded hands grab his face. She tried to block out their cries and broken Mando’a, but their words and pleas for Max to wake up invaded her mind. It would be the sounds to haunt her dreams for the rest of time.
Alyze pressed the button on the controls for the blast doors, the heavy metal doors slowly shutting behind them to lock the clone troopers in the room. Syrena, with the last of her fleeting strength, waved her hand, sending a burst of Force energy to the troopers. All at once, their bindings fell to the ground, allowing them to hold each other and hold Max.
The blast doors closed with a loud bang and all Syrena felt was pain and regret.
#pain just pain#im glad to get this out#i couldnt look at it anymore#i hate it#but whatever#syrena aster#sunburst squadron#the clone wars#star wars#the clone wars fanfiction#oc clones
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“PAPYRUS! PAPYRUS WHERE ARE YOU?”
BUBBH!
“PAPYRUS!”
Sans poked the baby bones currently playing the bathtub. “hey uh, bro? i think dad wants you…”
“PAH-PYRUS!”
SPLASH SPLASH!
“WHAT YOU WANT STINK DADDY? I’S MAKING MOOSIC OVER HERE!”
The infant continued splashing in the tub, the bubbles floating gently through the air with each slap the water received. “UNDER DA’ SEA! UNDER DA’ SEEEA! DOWN HERE IT WETTER, DOWN HERE IT BETTER, TAKE IT FROM BAY-A-BEEEEE!”
CAP CAP CAP!
CA-THINK, WHAM!
“ugh! dad, you don’t have to slam open the door like that-”
“WHERE’S MY KEYBOARD, YOU LITTLE SHIT?”
SPLASH SPLASH!
“I don’t know what you’s talkin’ bout’. What is dis ‘key-board’ you speak of? Is a board game?”
“YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS! YOU USE IT WHEN YOU’RE USING MY COMPUTER! TELL ME WHERE IT IS THIS INSTANT!”
SPLASH!
Papyrus stopped. “Why you need it so bad? You’s a scientist, not a moosician! I’S the only one with musical talent round’ here! Listen to mah jams!”
SPLASH SPLASH!
“UNDER DA’ SEA-”
“THAT’S THE WRONG KIND OF KEYBOARD!”
“uh oh,” said Sans, studying the water. The surface of it was almost completely obscured by bubbles, but he had a good idea of what lay beneath. Papyrus normally didn’t even like bubbles, as they got in his eye sockets and made it hard to see where he was swimming, but today he actually asked for extra suds in order to create “special effects” for a “concert” he was performing.
It looked like Gaster had the same idea too, as a trademarked sigh of unmistakable misery escaped him.
Heh heh, it’s like watching a balloon slowly lose its will to live…
SPLASH SPLASH, SPLASH SPLASH!
“It’s under the water isn’t it?”
“Nyeh?”
“My keyboard. It’s underwater.”
Papyrus looked down at the water and then back up at his father. “I do bad Daddy?”
“Yes Papyrus, you’ve made a mistake...”
“I fuk up yo’ life?”
“Yes Papyrus, you’ve ‘fucked up my life,’ now give me my keyboard so I can repair it.”
“Mmm…no. No, I’s gonna fix it. I already has an idea, in fact! I can still make dis work.” Papyrus licked the water. “Yep. Daz the problem. That’s the problem right there. I got the suds, but the water not be salty enough. SNAS!”
“AHH! wh-what? what do ya’ want pap?” asked Sans, putting a hand against his skull.
“Well FIRST, I’d like you to pay attention,” said the baby. “We gots a situation over here and you’s dreaming bout’ eating Sabastian!” The infant pointed to a dead crab floating in the bath near his feet. It had CLEARLY been eaten a long time ago by someone else, probably a human seeing as Papyrus got all his stuff from the Dump, but apparently the shell was all he needed to play pretend.
“I needs you to search the Powder Place and finds the salt,” said Papyrus, now pointing at the bathroom cabinet.
The bathroom cabinet was where the family keep their cleaning supplies. Heavy-duty powder that was used to clean up serious messes regular soap couldn’t handle, pest control bottles that sprayed foul-smelling chemicals, and copious amounts of baby powder lined the floor of the cabinet. Some of the bottles and boxes were neatly arranged, but most of the supplies had been knocked over, their contents scattered everywhere due to a combination of missing lids and an unsupervised baby…at least that’s what Papyrus said.
His little brother didn’t like the Powder Place very much, and at one point he even tried to do something about it, admitting fully that he had once purposely spilled the contents of the baby powder in order to make the area smell like an infant rather than Catty’s litterbox room. It was Papyrus’s argument that cleaning supplies should never smell like fresh fruit.
“Be careful Snas, it may smell delicious in there, but erything be poison. Big people’s use it as a trick to kill off fat babies.”
“Don’t be absurd! That’s not even close to being correct.”
“Yes it is. Big people’s like their monies and a fat baby is a baby that eats alllll the time. Food costs money, so they buy poison that smell like food to get rid of the baby without legal con-see-quences.”
“That’s not true, who TOLD you that?”
“Dirt-Butt.”
“*Sigh*”
Of COURSE it was Dirt-Butt.
“Dirt-Butt” was ALWAYS saying nonsense, though it really didn’t bother Gaster as much as every other source of knowledge the infant found. He was usually relieved in fact. Papyrus was used to getting stereotypical info from the media, but the things Dirt-Butt told him more often than not, actually kept him out of trouble.
If only headaches weren’t still the norm…
“NO DADDY, DON’T USE DA’ LECTRICAL HOLE! DIRT-BUTT SAY PICHU LIVE IN THERE!”
“…What?”
“dirt-butt told pappy that pikachus were electric mice who made their homes in electrical outlets,” explained Sans, playing a game on his phone.
“IS TOO! PIKACHU’S BABIES LIVE IN THERE! YOU’S GONNA POKE EM’ IN THE BUTT!” Papyrus covered the holes of the outlet with his hands, Determined to save his fellow infants. “Dirt-Butt says only big people can get poked in the butt, he also say-”
“Pikachus do NOT live or make their nests in electrical outlets.” Interrupted the scientist. “No one does.”
“Yes they do! Dat’s why the tricity gets used up. Pichu eat da’ power so they can gets big, is their nutrients!”
Gaster shook his head. “No. The reason you don’t want to stick things in here is because you’ll be electrocuted. Dirt-Butt lied. You need to pay more attention to people when they’re talking Papyru-”
“You gets elly-cuted cause’ you piss off Pikachu.”
“Did you not hear me?”
“If you poke the babies, you gets zapped.”
“Papyrus.”
“I KNOWS MAH ANIMALS DADDY!”
“SNAS, MORE SALT!”
“NO, do NOT put salt in your brother’s bathwater, it’s terrible for bones,” said Gaster reaching into the cabinet. He pulled out the salt, but was immediately met with a wet keyboard to the face.
CACK!
“PAPYRUS!”
“GIMME MAH SALT STINK DADDY! IS MINE!”
“No, it is NOT yours-”
“GIMME MY SALT OR I’S GONNA TELL UPON YOUUU!”
“You do that.”
“I WILL! I’ll tell upon you and you’s gonna get in trouble! I tells em’ you taked the salt and tried to make a baby stew…” said Papyrus smiling.
“Wh-”
“I’ll tell eryone you putted salt and carrots in mah bath and eryone will hate you. They’ll go ‘poor baby Pappy, he has such a bad wife, his daddy try to cook him for supper! We should ah-rest that bad guy and donate lossa monies to that baby’s fundraiser so their family can eats!”
“…What fundraiser?” asked the father, sensing trouble. He immediately regretted saying anything. In fact, he regretted it before the second word even came out of his mouth, but by then it was already too late.
“MY fundraiser. Baby Pappy’s Happy Nappies for Crap Bs!” Papyrus grinned and spread his arms out wide as if in celebration.
“’Crap B’s…?”
“Crap babies. Babies who not geniuses like me. Snas say, other baes not as fortunate as us, so I should be nice and share mah toys.”
“…”
“I don’t wanna do that, so instead I makes a fundraiser to get the inferior infants nappies!”
“Papyrus-”
“Nappies is diapers.”
“I know what nappies are,” said Gaster, already annoyed. Though the fundraiser’s name was enough to prove to Asgore that he wasn’t responsible for whatever came from his youngest’s latest money-making scheme, he still had to put an end to it. If he didn’t, he’d have the king’s citizens knocking at his door, and things were already getting bad in that regard.
More and more monsters had fallen ill from Hotland’s toxic fumes due to the fact that the Underground’s air filter lacked the power to operate and the more…unreasonable, individuals were getting upset. With the Lab being the closest medical building, the sick were often brought in and placed into the renovated Medical Ward. What was once mostly a living room was now a warehouse of beds, stretching almost from one end of the room to the other and lined with monsters of every variety.
Not that he was running out of room or anything.
The monsters there weren’t being cured, but rather drained of their magic to create magic crystals, a brilliant, if cold-hearted idea to be sure. This however, was necessary, though it had a severe consequence as it resulted in an increase of the Fallen; monsters who had lost too much magic and so had fallen into a comatose state. If the comatose had a chance of waking, he wouldn’t have dozens of family members banging on his door and flooding his email with questions, but sadly that wasn’t the case. Those that fell, fell to dust. There was no waking them…at least he didn’t THINK so…Gaster admittedly hadn’t bothered to experiment with that kind of thing yet.
I’m raising two children, keeping the oil reservoir under control AND a secret, trying to come up with a permanent solution to our power problem, logging the names and the number of incoming patients, making magic crystals, recording Papyrus’s progress, AND fixing HIS messes; I don’t have the TIME to meddle in monster mortality.
“uh, dad? papyrus just ran out the door giggling.”
“Wh-what?” Gaster looked about the bathroom to find that it was, indeed, missing a baby. “Why didn’t you stop him?!”
“he ran right past you, so i figured it was okay.”
“Papyrus by himself is NEVER okay, you should know that! Where did he go?” He poked his head out of the doorway and looked down the hall. A wet trail of baby tracks led into the darkness and he could just faintly hear the clacking sound of tiny bone feet getting farther and farther away.
“he said something about ‘customer satisfaction’ or…whatever. i wasn’t really paying attention-”
“GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND GO GET YOUR BROTHER!”
“*siiiiigh* FINE. PAPPY? WHERE YOU AT BABY BRO?”
“I SAID ‘GET’ NOT ‘YELL’ SANS!”
Lazy little…
“uuuughh!” Rolling his eyes, Sans shoved his phone back into the pocket of his hoodie and walked out the door. “PAPPYYYY! HEEERE PAPPY!”
“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”
Wiping off his ruined keyboard, Gaster tucked it under his arm and followed his oldest.
He already knew where the little bastard was headed.
Earlier in the week, while he was sweeping dust off the beds, he had found a little white diaper under the covers. ALL of the beds that once held the Fallen, had them in fact. It was obvious that Papyrus was putting diapers on the comatose patients, but until today, he never knew why.
“…those aren’t babies pappy,” said Sans from far off.
“Course they are! Daz why they sweep so much. Cwap babies don’t do much Snas, they just eat, sweep, and doody in their diapies. Some of them pay wit toys, but-”
“PAPYRUS GET OUT OF THE MEDICAL WARD!”
Papyrus turned his head to look down the hall, then, waving at his daddy, he turned back around.
“PAPYRUS!”
“Shoosh, stink Daddy! You wake da’ babies!” The tiny skeleton looked at the fluffy, unconscious dog-monster. “So tell us, doody-dog…how satisfied are you wit mah pro-duct? From one to a hundred?”
“…”
Papyrus lifted the dog’s head, “Eleventy-six!” exclaimed the baby bones, “I’d definitely wear another! Mah only complaint is the lack of hole for my stupid dog tail-”
“*pfft!* pap-”
“THERE SHOULDN’T BE ANY COM-PAINTS!” yelled Papyrus into the dog’s face. “DIS A FUNDRAISER, YOU BE GATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU GET, SUCK-BABY!”
“…”
“he’s not answering you bro.”
“Cwap babies not talk much Snas, but the result be clear. They satisfied…and now I must expand mah business!” cried Papyrus, raising a finger in the air. “TO WATERFALL!”
“huh?”
Using his wingdings, Papyrus picked himself up and placed his little body atop his brother’s skull, apparently expecting Sans to take him to his destination with haste.
He didn’t.
“pap, i don’t know what EXACTLY you’re trying to do, but it’s probably not a good idea; you’re naked and dad was-”
“TO WATERFALL SNAS!!” repeated the baby, louder this time. “TIME BE MONEY, HONEY!”
“don’t call me that.”
SPL-SPLASH!
Teleporting to Waterfall, the two brothers fell into the water near the docks, Papyrus slipping from his sibling’s head almost at once.
“NYEHHHHAAH! WHY YOU PUT US IN DA’ WATER SNAS? THE FISHIES SEE MAH BUTT!” The infant covered his rear end with a tiny hand, using the other to grab hold of Sans’ hoodie.
“then you shoulda listened to me huh?” replied Sans, CLEARLY not sorry at all. “besides, you know i can’t control exactly where i show up!”
Just the area in general…
“DON’T LOOK AT MAH BUTT CWEEP FISH!”
TAP!
A strange tapping sound drew the older boy’s attention, and Sans turned his head to see old man Gerson walking along the docks, cane in hand, while the baby batted at the curious fish.
“What’s all the commotion over here?” asked the turtle, scratching under his chin. He looked a lot more ancient when he was in full view. Sans usually only saw him in his shop, as did everyone else. It was rare to find him wandering around, as Undyne had a habit of taking it upon herself to scavenge for supplies at the Dump and present it to him to selling. Because of her, he never really HAD to leave anymore.
TAP, SHIFF!
The old man got closer and peered down at the two in the water, holding a magnifying glass to his eye. “Wahhaha, of course, of course it’s you, Papyrus. Giving your brother trouble I see!”
Does he bring that everywhere with him?
“it-it wasn’t pappy’s fault, i made a mistake,” said Sans quietly.
“Is that so? Well you two shouldn’t be bathing in the same place we water folk get our food, might get a taste for skeletons! Wahhahaha!” He laughed again, but the little Horror wasn’t as amused.
“DON’T EAT DA’ BABY!”
“we weren’t bathing…i just…took a wrong turn or something…”
“You weren’t? Then where are your brother’s clothes?”
“CTHULHU TOOK EM’! I seens it, wit my own widdle eyes, Wrinkle-Man!” said Papyrus, splashing in the water.
“Really? Well that’s just awful! Isn’t that awful Sans?”
“please don’t encourage him.”
“They must be pretty mean to do something like that; picking on a poor little cherub like you.”
“Yep, I’s a sad cher-chero-cherrio. A very sad cheerio Wrinkle-Man, baby’s don’t gots lots of monies ya’ know? How I supposed to buy new jammies wit no monies?”
“That IS an issue,” said Gerson warily, sensing an approaching problem. He turned to Sans, but the child only glared at him, his expression giving the answer to the old man’s unsaid plea.
You started this, now YOU can deal with it.
I’m not helping you.
“Ya’ know what would make this little cheerio happy again Wrinkle-Man?”
“cherub, pappy.”
“*Sigh*…What’s that?”
“If you would accept dis diapie.” The baby bones held up a soaked diaper, possibly getting it from out of Sans’ pocket.
“oh, that’s right, i didn’t check my pockets today.” He looked down at his clothes sadly. Whatever was in there today was probably ruined now by the water.
Papyrus tended to hide things in his brother’s hoodie.
Every once in a while, the kid comedian would reach into his pocket to find crayons, candy, a kaleidoscope, bouncy balls, a yo-yo, and sometimes even makeup in his pocket. They were fun little surprises that he enjoyed, like tiny gifts. They obviously belonged to his sibling, but liked Papyrus liked to say “what’s mine is yours,” so he considered them gifts.
The big treasures were his favorite, as they were rare and akin to getting surprise packages in the mail. He’d wake up in the morning and go to the place on the floor near the dresser where he always threw his hoodie and be excited to find a big lump covered by his clothing. A sign that his brother had hidden something neat.
You’d think he’d quit hiding things with it by now. He’s gotta know I’m stealing em’…
One time, Sans even found a skateboard hidden under it. He played with it a lot, and got pretty good, but when he started doing tricks, Papyrus became…unhappy. He remembered his baby brother screaming in terror and crying when he showed him a kickflip for the first and last time. He remembered feeling super guilty about it too. He only had 1 HP after all; if he fell, it was bye-bye big bro.
The skateboard now sat in a corner collecting dust, a sad reminder of what could have been.
“I don’t need a diaper yet kiddo!” said Gerson, slightly insulted.
“Sure, you do! All old peoples need diapies and all we asks in ass-change is dat you gives us a small donation.”
“A small donation’ hm?”
“Yep, for just thirty-twelve G, you could have this super absorbent, long-lasting diaper. Yo’ donations go to the Happy Nappies Fundraiser where we will buy MORE diapies and gives them to the less fortunate.”
“…It sounds like you’re selling diapers for 3,012g, FAR more than they’re worth. That’s thirty-twelve right? 3,012g?”
“Correct. We uses the extra monies to buy more nappies.”
“That’s not a fundraiser young’un’, you’re supposed to be raising money for charity. If you’re selling these to the babies here in the Underground-”
“I not sell to babies, I GIVE to da’ baes!”
“…But their parents pay for them.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not a fundraiser, you’re ‘hustling’ as the kids say.”
“No! I not hustle, I BUSTLE! The fundraiser be for babies, THEY gets the diapies for free, not the big peoples.”
“you’re either not understanding bro, or you’re trying to cheat people.”
Probably the latter.
“Daz not too. I buys diapies for the peoples who needs em’ and I use the rest to buy stuffs dat I need...like my jammies. Erybody wins.”
Papyrus attempted to climb out of the water and then, realizing his arms weren’t strong enough to pull him up onto the dock, he summoned his wingdings and placed himself onto the planks.
RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE!
“ugh, pap!” Sans covered his face as his tiny and inconsiderate sibling shook his body back and forth like the dogs in Snowdin, attempting to rid himself of the water.
“Wahahaha!”
SQISH!
THAP THAP THAP!
The infant squeezed the diaper in his hands and whipped it in the air, sending beads of water every which way. He knew it would probably not be the most absorbent product he ever sold, but perhaps the old monster would still want it for catching doodies…?
“bro, that diaper’s ruined, you’re not going to be able to sell it. look, it’s torn…”
“Nyeh?” Papyrus looked at the nappy in his hand. It seemed fine just a minute ago, but now it was all stretched out and worse yet, the sticky parts that were meant to hold the diaper in place wouldn’t stick anymore. He tried several times to get them to, but the front kept falling open.
Sans was right.
His product was ruined.
“NYEHHHHHAAHHHH! SNAAAAAAAS!”
“*sigh*”
“MY DIAPIE BE BOKEN SNAS! NYEH-HAAAHHHH!!!”
Sans got out of the water and picked up his baby brother. “don’t cry pappy,” he said, bouncing him up and down in his arms. “it’ll be okay.” He patted him on the back, but the baby bones refused to stop crying, still clutching the diaper in his little hand.
“Oh dear…hmm…tell you what,” said Gerson, pulling a wallet out of his shirt pocket. “I’ll buy your nappy at 2,000g, since it’s damaged. A young’un’ needs a pair of clothes, right?”
“our dad didn’t sell his clothes if that’s what you’re-”
“Shu up Snas, YES PWEASE MR. WRINKLE-GUY!” yelled Papyrus, suddenly all smiles. “I WOULD VERY MUCH AH-PEA-CIATE THAT!”
“PAPYRUS!”
“WAHHAHAHAHA!” laughing loudly, the tortoise-monster gave him the money. “Looks like this old man’s been outmaneuvered in marketing! I better watch out!”
“Nyeh hee hee hee!”
“…”
“Oh, don’t look so glum, my boy. Your brother needs this practice in order to protect you in the future! He’s gonna be quite the young warrior, isn’t that right Papyrus?”
“…There will be war.”
“WAHHAHAHAHA!” Mr. Gerson laughed again and walked back towards his shop. He tended to laugh a lot when Papyrus was present, though seeing him also made the elderly monster a bit sad too.
Sometimes I miss the old days when a lot of these little guys were around…
Maybe one day, nature will fix our past mistakes. I just hope it doesn’t need help…or that it’s not too late.
TAP, SHIFF!
TAP, SHIFF!
“…that wasn’t very nice bro.”
“The business world is a harsh one, Snas,” said Papyrus, counting his G. “You needs to pactice too big Buther. One day, you’s gonna need to help da’ baby, ya’ know? Is sad dat you has no monies of your own. Just cause’ you gots 1 hp, don’t mean you’s useless. You gots a brilliant mind, put it to good use.”
“i don’t need life advice from a crook.”
“Kay’ when you gets a life, come see da’ baby.”
“i HAVE a life, you little asshole! it’s just isn’t a life of crime.”
“No crime no dime, big Buther. Sometimes you gots to break the rules to get da’ jewels! Tell Daddy he either pay you for help, or he pay fines for child labor.”
“that’s blackmail.”
“Is genius is what it is.”
Sans chuckled and put the money in his hoodie. “why would you need my help bro? unemployed monsters down here are a dime-a-dozen!”
“…”
“all jewel need to do is lie and they’ll help you out. i don’t need to do anything, heh heh…”
“…You needs to pactice yo’ font too.”
“fine-”
“SOMEWHERE AWAY FROM DA’ BABY!” yelled Papyrus, kicking his legs.
“i can’t leave you here, child abandonment is a crime-”
“DAZ NOT EVEN A PUN!”
“besides, crawling all the way home would be a bit labor-ious, wouldn’t it?”
“IIIII HATE CHUUUUUU!!”
CAP, CAP!
CAP, CAP!
Oh crap, someone else is coming. I need to get Pappy back in some clothes or-
“HEY! NO BATHING IN THE FOOD SUPPLY, IT’S ILLEGAL!” cried a shrill voice Sans knew all too well. Startled, he dropped his brother in surprise, but luckily the infant didn’t seem to care.
“HELLWOE FISH-LADY!” Papyrus threw up his arm in greeting. “DA’ WRINKLE-MAN JUST LEFT!” The baby pointed towards Snowdin.
“He was just here?”
“yeah, he headed back to his stall a few seconds ago,” replied Sans, glaring at his brother. “while you were…underwater. why were you underwater? this is the breeding area…”
“Right, I was talking to the fish. Gotta make sure no one’s stealing them, so everyone can keep eating-”
“Fish Lady’s growing an army to fight the homos!” said Papyrus excitedly.
“SSHH!! Shut the fuck up Papyrus!” whispered Undyne harshly.
“homosapiens baby bro, you have to say the whole thing or…you know what? just say humans, kay’?”
“Homo humans!”
“…not better. also, are you talking about actual fish, undyne or water monsters?”
“WHO CARES?” yelled the young girl. “THE MORE SOLDIERS THE BETTER!” She grinned proudly, her hands on her hips. No one would expect an attack from the water AND the land, the next war against humans was as good as won.
That is, if no adults found out about it. They didn’t appreciate Undyne’s ingenious war strategies like Papyrus did.
No matter how helpful or cool they were, adults always seemed to have a problem with her ideas, and unfortunately, Sans and Gaster were no different. For most of them to work, she needed science nerds, but they saw her plans the same way they saw Papyrus’s, terrible and “asinine.”
The Royal Scientist’s words, not hers.
She didn’t know what “asinine” meant, but it had the word “ass” in it, so she assumed their father was calling her ideas booty.
My ideas aren’t ass!
My ideas are GREAT!
Stupid, crappy, science dweeb, is just lazy. How hard can it be to build a giant robot? Isn’t there already someone asking him to do that already?
“…A giant robot can destroy entire towns, I saw it in a movie.”
“what are you talking about? are you still on about that robot army?” Sans sighed, a trademark sign of his that meant he thought she was being stupid. Undyne had heard it many times before.
“IT’S A GOOD IDEA!!” she screamed. “AND IT WASN’T AN ARMY, IT WAS JUST O-”
“for the last time, if you saw something already done in a movie undyne, the humans know how to COUNTER it; they make the friggen’ things!”
Undyne’s so dumb…
“Yeah, but the movies are old, Sans! They’re in the Dump, because no one watches them anymore! We’ll have the element of surprise.”
“I wish to pilot a Gundam, big Buther.”
“SEE?! Papyrus wants it!” she said, pointing at the baby bones. “You want to blow up a town widdle Pappy?”
The infant smiled and bounced up and down on his rear end excitedly. “Yeah yeah yeah!” he said, ignoring his sibling’s frown. “I’s Middle Eastern ya’ know…is mah calling.”
“still don’t know what middle ease is, pap.”
“Middle East Snas! It mean I comes from da’ center of the earth…only is a liiiittle East.” The infant pinched his fingers together, squinting with one eye to make sure there was space between them, hoping he had solved the mystery.
“The center of the earth…?” Undyne looked confused. “You mean Hell?”
“i’d believe that.”
“Noooo! I’s on the WOOF of Hell…cept’ is a liiittle East.”
“Yeast…isn’t that the stuff bread is made from?”
“he’s saying east, undyne. it’s a direction.” Sans pointed towards where he knew the Lab was located.
“…That’s left, Sans-I MEAN RIGHT! That’s your right.”
“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”
“SHUT UP PAPYRUS, I WASN’T WRONG!”
“you are.”
“YOU SHUT UP TOO!!”
“how old are you?”
“YOU CAN’T ASK ME THAT! I’M A WOMAN, IT’S ILLEGAL!”
“Is you a baby like me, Fish Lady? If so, I gots a great product for you…”
“I’m NOT a baby, I’M GROWN!” Undyne stomped her foot angrily on the planks of the pier, scaring Sans a little. He had no idea how long those timbers had been there, but he knew people walked on them every day. Eventually, they would break and need to be replaced…probably by the pines in Snowdin.
There are some people who use them for firewood too though, I know Grillby does. What if we run out? How long does it take a pine tree to grow?
…
Who planted them there to begin with?
“Nyeh? You spacing again, big Buther?”
It was something he thought of often whenever he was bored, and he highly doubted it was the monsters doing.
“Come back down from space, Snas!”
No one knew what the inside of Mt. Ebott was like, which is why everyone in the beginning not only scrambled for a home as soon as possible, but also refused to leave it behind for something better. It didn’t make sense to begin with for the monsters to carry saplings with them into a mountain with little to no sunlight. Even if the sunlamps in Snowdin had been immediately installed, it would’ve taken time. Could the trees survive that long without the sun? Why were they all pine trees to begin with? If the monsters came from different environments all over the world, wouldn’t some have brought cacti, palm trees, and other tropical plants?
It’s like someone made preparations for us to live here…
“EARTH TO THE SNAS!”
“AH!”
“Stop daydreaming and tell da’ Fish Lady how great mah fundraiser be! She doesn’t want to buy my diapies…” said Papyrus quietly.
“Why are you naked?”
“s-sorry bro, i was thinking about the trees. how come there’s only pine trees and fruit trees in the underground?”
“Nyeh?”
Why was his brother always thinking about trees?
“There’s a fern in the Resort Area,” said Undyne, hoping to change the subject. She’d rather talk about plants than diapers.
“why though? who was the guy who went ‘hey, yeah, i know i’m being ushered out of my home with little to no warning and should prooobably pack everything i think will be needed to maintain my survival-”
“But this fern doh…” The young girl laughed, imagining the scenario. “I gotta take this fern, man!”
“*pfft!* c’mon undyne, for real-”
“FERNS BEFORE FOOD! FERNS BEFORE FAMILY!”
“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”
“AND THESE FLOWERS, DUDE! I NEED THESE GOLDEN FLOWERS IN MY LIFE!”
Sans laughed in spite of himself as his baby brother let out a high-pitched screech of delight. As curious as he and it was, the comedian had to admit it was also pretty funny.
I guess back then, people didn’t have to worry so much about survival as they do now. They probably weren’t expecting things to be so hard down here.
It’s good that kids like us don’t have to worry about that sort of thing…most of us anyway.
Dad’s a douche, but our generation depends on him and he’s doing his best to deliver. Without him, the Underground would be doomed.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was one of the worrying kids. The future frightened him; his father frightened him.
One of the perks of being invisible, aside from whenever the Royal Scientist needed him, was that Sans could go anywhere and do anything he pleased when off the clock. He knew about the Fallen and what his father was doing before Flowey even appeared to tell him, and he was willing to bet his brother did too.
Papyrus didn’t mess with the draining machine.
Sans noticed he didn’t talk about it either. There were no questions, no threats, no mentions whatsoever. In fact, these days Papyrus seemed to mellow out a bit in general, his pranks becoming fewer and fewer in number until the labs horrendous reputation began to fade. The baby bones had even gone out to recruit other bright minds to help in the lab, no doubt sensing his father’s incoming mental collapse.
Despite how serious their power problem was, the truth remained that they HAD oil. It was dangerous to use, but it was a choice Gaster had other than draining that he didn’t favor. He CHOSE murder, their father CHOSE to drain sick monsters who came to him for help, and showed absolutely no remorse or concern for his actions.
Not good.
“Does Onion-chan gots ferns?”
“huh?”
“It’s Onionsan, Pappy. You’re spelling it wrong, and yes, those are ferns.”
“oh, you’re still talking about ferns…who’s onionsan?” asked Sans. He didn’t know much about the monsters that lived underwater, but apparently no citizen was safe from his little bro. He hoped he hadn’t caused too much trouble…
“Onionsan-chan be a monster from Japan, man!” replied the infant, enjoying his tongue twister. “I doesn’t know how he got here dough…”
“OnionSAN, Papyrus-”
“They too big for mah diapies, so we not visit the tentacles today.”
“what?”
“Onionsan is a monster that looks like an octopus. I’ve never heard of Japan though.”
“Is where the woah-bots come from, Fish Lady! Da’ Vocaloid and the Gundams and the aira-planes…”
“airplanes aren’t robot birds baby bro,” said Sans smiling.
“Nyeh? No bird? Tsundereplane lie…?”
“huh?”
This alarmed Sans. Papyrus was behaving himself more in the lab, but that meant he was spending most of his time outside where it was dangerous.
Who’s Tsundereplane? How many people is he talking to?!
“you know what? it doesn’t matter. stop talking to strangers papyrus, it’s dang-PAPYRUS!”
BEEP BEEP!
Taking Sans’ phone out of his pocket via wingdings, Papyrus called his “friend” on speed dial.
“Hellwoe?”
“papyrus, stop!”
Who the hell gave him their number?! How long has that been in my phone?!
“Yep, is da’ baby…”
“hang up, papyrus. whoever gave you their number isn’t a sane person-”
“Snas say you’s not a whoa-bot bird Tsundereplane. Why you lie to cute widdle me?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“WELL SCU YOU TOO, STINK ARROW-PLANE! I BEAT YO’ ASS!”
BEEP!
“…”
“…Tsundereplane not my friend no more.”
“Aww…poor Pappy…” Undyne patted the infant’s skull.
“don’t feel sorry for him! that’s what he gets for talking to strangers, maybe next time he’ll think before putting numbers in MY phone!”
“Yep, woe is me Fish Lady…”
“are you even listening to me?”
“…First they steals mah jammies and now they lie and call me an idiot-face. I am the saddest of cheerios…”
“THEY STOLE YOUR CLOTHES?!”
“you little shit.”
“STEALING’S ILLEGAL! Don’t worry Pappy, THE UNSTOPPABLE UNDYNE WILL GET YOUR CLOTHES BACK!”
“he’s lying undyne-”
Sans reached out to stop her, but Undyne was already off towards Hotland.
Damnit!
There’s no way he’d catch her, he didn’t even know who or where Tsundereplane was.
I don’t even know what they LOOK like…an airplane probably, but…
“Nyeh hee hee hee!”
“*humph!* i bet you’re pretty proud of yourself, huh baby bro?”
“Yes.”
“you think you did the right thing?”
“Yes.”
“what do you think’s gonna happen when undyne finds out you were lying?”
“She gonna come back and do the accu-sa-tions and Imma say ‘they throw my jammies in da’ lava?’ then I’s gonna cry reeeal loud, and she gonna feel sorry for me.”
“…”
“She’ll say, ‘aww, I didn’t think of that! Poor baby Pappy…I should go out and buy you NEW jammies!’ and then I say, ‘no, no, you’s done enough.”
“…is that right?”
“Yep. I say, “Just gives me some monies and I go gets em’. Shopping be boring.’ Then she gonna go ‘you’s right! Shopping IS boring. Here are some monies…and a widdle extra for the accu-sa-tions.”
“…”
“That’s when I be reeeal nice and say ‘keep da’ extra, you deserves it for being a good friend to da’ baby.’ Then I buys candy and I eats it, then we all live happy ever after.”
“…i’m calling undyne.”
“WHY YOU GOTS TO DESTROY MY HAPPY AFTER?”
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
“I’M NOT SELLING YOU NOTHIIIIINN’!!!” screamed Papyrus, “NYEH!” Snatching his brother’s phone, the baby bones took off running towards Snowdin.
“PAPYRUS! PAPYRUS, NO!”
“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”
“DO NOT GO INTO TOWN NAKED, PAPYRUS!”
Friggin’ dumbass! There’re dogs everywhere there, he can’t be showing that many bones, he’ll get eaten!
Or they would.
Probably the dogs.
Either way, Sans knew who would ultimately be blamed.
“GOOD LUCK FINDING ME IN DA’ SNOW BIG BUTHER!”
“ugh, shit!”
POOF!
With an enthusiastic smile, Papyrus leapt into a snow poff as soon as his sibling lost sight of him. There was no way Sans would find a tiny white skeleton in a snowfield. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack…whatever a haystack was.
Finally, his Michael Jackson syndrome was paying off.
“Nyeh? *sniff sniff*”
That was odd. The snow poff he was in smelled like doody. Well, actually, the whole town smelled like a barnyard, but this was especially bad…
“*huff puff* pa-papyrus…”
“…”
“papyrus, i know you’re in there, your tracks lead right to the snow poff field!”
“…Those could be anybody’s tracks, there’s no baby here, skelly-man.”
“really? heh heh, well that’s weird. most people who live in snowdin avoid the snow poffs.”
“…I had to move cause’ I missed my rent. This my home now.”
Sans laughed; his brother had no idea. “woooow, that sucks. i’d personally hate to live in a poop-igloo, but you do you man, ha ha ha!”
“What?” Papyrus poked his head out of the snow poff and looked down.
“yep. the reason the snow is built up in this area and nowhere else, is because this is where people dump their chamber pots.”
“…”
“the snow tends to build on top of the droppings and that’s what makes these little mounds, cool huh?”
“…”
“asgore is trying to get plumbing up and running, but it’ll be a while before THAT happens, what with the power issue and all. personally? i don’t see it happening. people make money gathering these snow poffs up to sell for fertilizer.”
Without saying a word, Papyrus climbed out of the snow poff and walked towards the Ruins. It was the longest route to a river, but at least it didn’t cut through town.
“papyrus?”
“Shut up.”
“aww, what’s wrong pappy? paaappyyyy-”
SPLASH!
The baby bones jumped into the river, using his wingdings to hold himself steady in order to keep from being swept away by the current.
“…”
“oh no, pappy! you can’t just hop into the river, the fishies will see your butt!”
“…”
“you know what you need to catch those doodies? what every baby needs?”
“Choke on bread.”
“a dia-”
SPLASH!
“heh.”
#Fonttale#Fonttale au#Undertale#Undertale au#Papyrus#Sans#Baby Papyrus#Kid sans#Kid undyne#Undyne#Gaster#Undertale fanfiction#Dark Comedy
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Survey #374
“doctor, doctor, won’t you please prescribe me something? / a day in the life of someone else...”
Does someone have a crush on you but you don’t feel the same way? No.
Who do you feel most beautiful around? No one.
What’s one makeup item you cannot live without? I could live without any makeup.
What’s the most expensive thing you own? My snake, I think. Or my laptop, idr.
Are you more of a book person or a TV person? Book.
Relationship status? Single.
What color are most of your clothes? Black.
Did you french kiss before you were 16? No, I was 16.
Last song you listened to? "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot.
Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? Yes.
What’s your favorite thing about life? That's a big question. I guess seeing acts of mass love and kindness, reminders that we're all in this together through all hardships.
Who pays for the first date? Whoever asked the other person out, imo.
Who has always been there for you? My mom.
Have you ever written on a wall? No, at least not to my memory.
Do you play any computer games, if so, what ones? I think anyone who reads these by now knows, haha. I don't much play anything else. I prefer console games.
What would you name a baby boy if you had one? Probably Damien or Victor.
What would you name a baby girl if you had one? Alessandra, no questions asked.
What lyric means the most to you? I mean there's tons, but the first one that came to mind is "for such a little thing, you sure are in your own way" from "Get Up" by Mother Mother. Like in the big picture, we humans are so so so minuscule, but with brains that are too complicated for our own good. It's my own head that creates so many obstacles for me.
Who is the smartest person you know? Probably my friend Girt.
Have your parents ever been to jail? No.
Do you share a bed with anyone? My cat, haha.
Does it flatter you when guys open doors for you? It's flattering if anyone does, not just guys.
Do you enjoy taking naps? Yeah. That's like part of my daily routine.
If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Nope.
Is there anyone you try to be a good influence for? My nieces and nephew, but I don't feel like I am. I'm a poor example of an adult.
Do you own a pair of fishnets? No, but I have a pair of fingerless fishnet gloves.
Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, pancakes, waffles, bacon or cereal? All are great, but french toast.
Yes or no: eyebrow piercings? I'd actually have one if I didn't have glasses. I think I'd look weird with one as I look now.
When I say "The Beatles," what is the first song that comes to mind? "Hey, Jude."
In your opinion, what is the very worst type of weather? Extremely hot and humid.
You can only listen to one band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? Ozzy Osbourne, of course.
Can you snap with both of your hands? Yeah, but it's harder with my left.
What is something that you had to learn the hard way? For some people, promises don't mean shit.
If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you paint it? Maybe like a light peach.
When was the last time you got butterflies? I think not since Sara told me I look really pretty in eyeliner. ;_; <3
When was the last time you felt like your heart was actually breaking? There was this one time I was listening to "The Ghost of You" by MCR a while after finding out about Jason's mom's death and I just like... broke.
When’s the last time you were in a line? When I was getting my second COVID shot.
Do you trust the media? HA! Fuck no.
If you could kill off one species of animal, which would it be? At first I was appalled by this question, but like... do wasps serve a purpose? Of all fauna, they annoy me the most. I mean bees are already endangered enough, and they prey on them. They don't pollinate, so like... why are you here. I may be mistaken and they have a valuable role, in which case I take all this back.
Who’d you last say I love you to? My mom.
What’s the most overpaid job in your opinion? I have on idea. Most jobs are underpaid.
What’s the last thing you wrote down? I was doing some paperwork at the TMS office on my first day there.
When’s the last time you heard a gunshot? I don’t know.
What are you looking forward to? Now that my tattoo (which looks fucking stunning, by the way) is out of the way, I can focus on other things. I'm particularly looking forward to hopefully seeing the results of TMS manifest (which should take 3-4 weeks). It sounds horrible, but I'm also keenly awaiting this dog we're stuck with to go somewhere... The person who gave her to my sister to give my mom won't take the dog back, and we can't find another option that doesn't risk her being euthanized, which we absolutely do not want. We just don't know what to do, but she's driving Mom and me INSANE.
Do you listen to online radio stations? No.
Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? No.
Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Multiple things.
Have you ever ate so much you puked? Ugh, no. That sounds awful.
Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? Very much, sadly.
Would you rather eat cookies or brownies? I gotta say brownies.
Which YouTuber have you learned the most from? I mean, this depends on the subject. From Mark, I've learned most about life and how (I think) to be a good person, but there's a lot of pet channels I watch that have taught me loads about proper husbandry. This answer just depends on what knowledge you're talkin' about.
Who would you want to be the flower girl at your wedding? Probably a niece.
Do you want to be married within the next ten years? It'd be nice.
Do you feel like your life is too fast-paced, or do you wish it were busier? Ugh, I wish it was busier. My days are a COMPLETE, routine drag.
What are some hobbies which you want to pick up? I want to just be more artsy. I wanna draw and write more, and I'd love love love to be in healthy enough shape to handle going on walks with my camera. There are sometimes I miss editing videos, too. I'm unsure about completely new hobbies.
Does anyone encourage you to go after your dreams? My family and a few friends. Oh, and definitely my psychiatrist.
What group are you most active in on Facebook? None, really. I mostly just observe.
Are you ashamed of anything? A number of things. Primarily not having a job at my age or even being in school.
What were your favorite Disney rides as a kid? I loved Splash Mountain, I think it was called.
What were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? Never been.
What are some places you want to visit that you’ve never been? South Africa, Alaska, Canada, Yellowstone National Park, Bahamas, Venice, Rome...
What are some places that you’ve been that you’d like to go to again? Disney World, Chicago, and this one super clear lake I swam in once a few hours away that I don't recall the name of.
Have you ever owned a succulent? No. While they're pretty, I've never been much of a plant person.
Do you support small businesses? I REALLY want to start doing that more when I have the option to buy my own stuff/have my own income. As someone who wants to be a freelance photographer, I get it. Starting an independent business is hard as hell.
If a brand were to sponsor you, which brand(s) would you prefer? Uhhh I dunno.
Have you read the entire Bible? No.
Do you make bucket lists for each season? No. That does sound kinda fun, though.
How old were you when you first dyed your hair? I have no idea.
Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ I desperately want to, though. It's just not something we can afford to spare cash on.
What is the most comfortable type of pants, in your opinion? Pajama pants? haha
Do you think you could ever be famous? No. I'm way too boring and don't want to be anyway.
What are some jobs you’ve had in the past? Sales associate, cashier, and deli worker. None lasted long whatsoever.
What are some jobs you want to or would like to have? List five. FIVE? I don't know. I just know I want to be a photographer. Well, being an artist or poet would be very cool. And a reptile breeder, maybe tarantulas, too, but that makes me kinda nervous with JUST how many babies they have.
What are some jobs you have considered? In rough order from youth to now: paleontologist, vet, movie director, game designer, author/poet, artist, music video editor, wildlife biologist, photographer... Maybe there's more that just aren't coming to me.
Are you thankful for social media, or do you wish it didn’t exist? Depends on the day for me, but I'm generally thankful for it so I can keep up with the lives of people who are important to me. It's just that it's a breeding ground for self-doubt and rampant comparisons that can easily depress me when I see some people are "further ahead" and more "established" than me.
What are some of the best medications you’ve ever had? The combined efforts of Latuda and Lamictal saved my life.
What was a video you watched over and over as a kid? There were lots of movies, like The Lion King, a certain Barney one when I was very young, and I watched Finding Nemo like crazy.
Do you know a lot of people who were loving, and then turned cold? Jason????????????????? Is that you???????????????????????????????????????????
Do you own anything plaid? Ha, what a coincidence, I'm wearing my red plaid pj pants.
Are you good at remembering names? Definitely not.
Have the cops ever gotten on to you for anything before? No.
What email thingy do you use? (yahoo, gmail, rock) ... Rock? lol anyway my main is Hotmail, but I inevitably have a gmail to have a YouTube account.
What game system(s) do you own? PS2, Wii, Nintendo DS Lite, and a GameBoy Advance.
Are you any good at Guitar Hero? I used to be; I played most songs on Expert, then some really tough ones on Hard. I was soooooo addicted to those games. I remember when I got the first one for Christmas, I literally played it all day.
Have you ever played Call of Duty? Nah, not my jam.
What is your favorite/most visited website? YouTube.
Is your bed comfortable? Sure. I've definitely had way worse.
Do you have a garage? No. Fun fact, I've never lived in a house with one.
Should you be doing anything right now? What? There's a number of things I could be doing that are definitely more productive, like finishing decorating my damn room.
Do doctors or dentists make you more nervous? Not really. I only ever get nervous to hear my weight at the doctor's.
Did you ever think you were about to die before? I don't quite know. When I ODed, it was more like I didn't care if I did.
Have you ever really had a near death experience? Was it cool? "Was it cool." Literally fuck off. I guess you could technically consider my OD a "near death experience," especially given how many pills I took, yet I somehow experienced almost no ill symptoms. Maybe because we got to the ER for fluids quickly enough, idk. I'm just glad I didn't die.
What is your favorite kind of weather? Snowy! Like a steady snowfall of large flakes with no breeze and total silence. *chef's kiss*
Ever tasted beer? Ugh, no. Just the smell makes me sick. It was my dad's drink of choice when he was an alcoholic so I just have a very negative association with it.
Have you ever seen a dead body? Yes, at an open-casket wake.
Ever poured salt on a slug? As kids, my sisters and I would get our parents to do it because they grossed us out. So, so cruel. I still have this weird but pretty extreme phobia of them, but I wouldn't torture the things like that.
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would it be possible to get a Watch_Dogs Wrench x nonbinary reader where they're going out and causing some havoc? explosions optional. many thanks~!
Mmmm, delicious anarchy... Let’s cause some mayhem~!
“You want to what?” You heard him just fine, but it doesn’t stop you from pretending like you didn’t, a grin slowly growing over your face. Wrench was known for his chaos- you loved it- but an actual invitation to hop on that explosive ride for the night? A rare opportunity from “Mister Works-Alone” and with such a rare offer...you had to ask again. Gotta make sure you’re not dreaming, right?
“C’mon, baby... Don’t make me say it again,” he purrs, arms extending in his usual dramatic fashion. He’s in such a good mood and the knowledge of it makes you giddier than normal. That’s just Wrench, though; infectious.
“Won’t you please~?” You flutter your lashes right back as his mask flickers into a playful, downward double slash before flicking back to carrots.
“...You’re lucky that you’re the hottest thing since switchblades... As I said! I’m planning on ruining a few files with a virus Josh cooked up and then blowing up a new summer estate for some shitty rich dude up on the hills... Could be a fireworks show. Wanna join?” The low rumble of his voice at the end question had shivers rolling up your spine, suggestive in his playful way, and with the notion of waggling brows under the mask. (Some things you don’t need to see to know they’re happening.)
A deep sigh from you, but a grin on your face regardless. “Well, I suppose I don’t have anything better to do... Give me a moment to grab my shit and let’s do this~” Wording it that way? Worth it for the offended down slashes it got you, laughing softly as you went to grab your stuff.
“Who’s truck even is this?” You asked later, feet kicked up on the dash and eyeing the cushy interior. Definitely not Wrench’s, but did he own a ride or...?
“Don’t know, don’t care!” Was his cheerful reply, weaving through traffic with a practiced hand that made you nervous and a little flustered. Something, something, adrenaline...and the pure fact that- even without seeing his face- Wrench was hot as hell. He’s a teasing shit, an annoyance, and with an anger that makes you cringe on occasion, but DAMN if he doesn’t know what he’s about, down from the distracting roll of tattoos on his arms, the anarchy tatt that bobs on his neck when he swallows, or the energetic way he moves.
Wrench is a living distraction that’s only competed by his taste in music (which is as equally loud and distracting) and... Yeah, you still love it. Even as a song about....something blasts through. You haven’t been paying attention, but knowing Wrench, it’s either about dismantling the system, weird shit, or perversions. Maybe a mix of the two, any two.
It makes you smile a bit, staring out the window to catch a glimpse of the moonlit bay as Wrench catches a glance at you- unseen- and his display momentarily flickers to hearts.
You both left the house wheezing from laughter, stumbling to the truck in a rush. “H-Holy shit,” you whisper-yelled, wiping a tear from your eye. “The computer! Smoking!! How long do you think before the smoke alarm goes off?!”
“I don’t know, but MAN I wish I could see his fa-” Wrench’s own whispers were cut off by blaring alarms and a muffled shout. You both choked on laughter, hopping into the truck and racing off, laughing into the night as some poor asshole now had to deal with his shit being fried to hell and back.
That’s what you get for treating your employees like shit!
Final stop, the framework of “some rich asshole’s” getaway. Such a shame...that DedSec is gonna bring up some just desserts for this one. You wanna be a shitty person in San Fran? DedSec coming after you! You don’t make money off the broken backs of the struggling middle and homeless population without getting cooked for it!!! And they’ve got all the fires and best seasoning...
...Fuck. Does this make any sense? Maybe.
Anyways, you assisted in getting most of the security down while Wrench did a bit of his own work...and still did enough- just in time- to help out with rigging the explosives. Getting them placed and even getting a more...hands-on approach when it came to setting them up in a way that Wrench needed to blow this place sky-high.
...Safely, of course. Can’t exactly take down the powers that be and hurt the average citizen in the process. What would be the point, then??
“Alright... We’re good. C’mon! We’ve gotta watch the show!” Who knows why Wrench thinks it’s important to whisper, but you shrug to yourself and follow him out, cautious the whole way to the truck, where he proceeds to drive off a little ways more and check something, fiddling with the remote.
Remote detonation, the safest way to blow, as he said before...and then made it more perverted. Because that’s just how Wrench do.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, looking down again before focusing on the road. “Just making sure it’s been set at the right time. Don’t want it to be too short or that could be a taaaad risky. Too long, and not only is it a little boring, but it might’ve gotten out of range... Just making sure things are good to go.” He hums pleasantly and you settle on it being a good sign, delighting quietly in the way your boots shake dirt onto the dash.
Joyriding in a stolen car... It makes moments like this more delicious.
The rise is perfect when you hop out of the truck, a perfect view of the in-progress mansion and what’s about to be the fireworks show of the century. Lighting up and blocking off a shithead if even for a few more years... Mm, glorious.
“T-minus....4 minutes,” Wrench hums, checking his phone for the time, then clicking it off to flop his butt onto the grass. Watching him a moment, you hesitantly step over and flop down yourself, watching the opposing hill with sharp eyes.
...Man. It’s a shame nobody brought snacks. It’d be a good way to pass by some time with chips or maybe some candy and a drink... Classic popcorn, maybe? You snort at the thought of 3D glasses and a bowl of popcorn, drawing Wrench’s attention and the appearance of question marks on his mask.
“What?”
“Trying to imagine you wearing 3D glasses over your mask,” you admit, laying back. Quick thoughts of bugs rise up, but your wrists and shoulders would surely thank the lack of pressure on them. “Shoulda brought popcorn.”
“....Damn,” he mutters, looking back to the hill, downward slashes appearing on his display. “You’re right... Ah, well. Too late now. I guess we could get Chinese after this, though.” You hum in thought, tilting your head a little.
“...I guess?”
“Never such thing as too much Chinese food!” He suddenly gives a firm pat to your stomach, making you squawk in alarm as he loses it laughing. Squinting at him with a huff, shaking your head...but a smile growing regardless.
“You’re...sure something.”
“Oh, I know. No need to compliment me,” he assures, double carrots flickering to a single tilde; a winking face. You shake your head again, groaning, but you’re still grinning. “See? You’re smiling! It’s proof!”
“That is not pro-” Any further playful debate is put on pause as something starts beeping, Wrench’s display lighting up in double stars as he looks up to the hill, you shooting up to follow his gaze-
--and watch that bitch not only light up like a bonfire, but for literal fireworks to shoot into the air.
“....You glorious bastard,” you murmur, watching blues and whites and the whistling of fireworks blaze into the sky. It lasts a bit longer than the explosion does, as to be expected of fireworks, but by the time they simmer down and you can look away...your eyes meet the enchanted screen that is Wrench’s own vision.
Heart eyes on display, softening your look.
“...Hey.”
“Huh- Yeah?” You lean over, watching the mask rapid fire through question marks, stars, the @ symbol, and hearts, until you very gently kiss the spikes of his mask. A start, at least. Another roll of the @ symbols, then settling back to hearts.
“...Thanks.” The display flickers for a second, but ultimately doesn’t change, Wrench giving a shaky laugh in response, sounding a little breathless.
“Heh, yeah, uh... No problem. Glad I could do this with ya...” He gets up slowly, shifting a little before he steadies himself and offers a hand to help you up. One you accept, smiling a little brighter at how much something so simply threw him off so much... “So... Chinese? Food? Yes, no, maybe so?”
“Yeah,” you say through a laugh, beaming more when you notice his hand hasn’t quite let go of yours. “Let’s get some fuckin’ rice.”
#Anon#Aki answers#self insert#self ship#self ship community#Aki Gives Back#Aki Stories#I wrote WAY MORE THAN I WANTED TO#I feel like this will be my callout bias#I can't JUST drabble for Wrench#if it's not it's own plot#what's the point???#and it's embarrassing but#this is what you wanted so SACRIFICE ME I GUESS#I hope you love this nonnie lskjdfhgjfdks#use my bias to your greatest advantage
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DREAM IN WAVES
NAME › Byun Juwon
D.O.B. › 09 09 1995 (21)
OCCUPATION › Design Assistant at Complex/ Student
INSTA › @bynjwn
content warning: allusions to attempted suicide
PORTFOLIO
Byun Juwon
Seoul / [email protected]
Summary: I wasted two years of my life, slaving away as a computer engineering major when I always wanted to pursue design instead, because my deadbeat father (who is the greatest asshole known to man) wanted me to do it. But guess what! He’s in goddamn prison on the other side of the world! So he can kiss my
Summary: I need this internship or I will die.
Summary: Energetic and passionate college student seeking position of assistant designer.
Education: Working toward BFA in visual communication design at Hongik University.
Work Experience
IT technician intern at ChilDesign, October 2013 - December 2014
Design intern at Polygon Studios, May 2015 - August 2015
Design intern at 010 Design Studio, December 2015 - May 2016
Assistant designer at 010 Design Studio, June 2016 - January 2017
Additional Skills
In-depth knowledge of design software (Photoshop, InDesign)
In-depth knowledge of Wacom tablets and related software
English: Advanced proficiency
Portfolio available online @ ello.co/byunjuwon
DETAILS
As far as Juwon knows, he doesn’t have a mother. There isn’t a trace of anyone remotely feminine in the house until he’s five, when his father realizes it’s easier to get a girl into his bed after showing off his poor, motherless son.
Naturally, they don’t get along.
He’s a brilliant student, the kid with the biggest house and the good-looking daddy. His extracurriculars stack up to the point of teetering, but he manages to pull it all together in his little hands; he’s pushed more toward English (“It’s a life skill.”) and pulled away from art (“Useless to a man.”).
It’s around his second year of high school when he realizes his father’s fragile masculinity hasn’t transferred over to him yet, but he’s got a penchant for rejecting everything about the guy’s personality by then.
This is where the cliché comes in: if you don’t do what daddy says, you’re free to hit the streets.
For a while, computers aren’t that bad. There are too many pieces and he spends too many hours untangling wires with a headache pounding against the inside of his skull, but he’s good enough at what’s expected of him.
He regrets every instance where he thought it “wasn’t that bad.”
The internship lasts a short three months, but it’s all the time he needs. And when his father lands himself a three-year prison sentence, he takes it as a sign to give his old man the big ‘fuck you’.
There aren’t many folks who are forgiving of a twenty-year-old abandoning a chance at a stable career for something as volatile and evanescent as an interest in the arts. (And they say it just like that; fancy language adds a special aesthetic to rejection.)
At his last interview, they say he has quite the personality. He tells them they don’t know the half of it and figures that laughter is a good enough sign. (Spoiler alert: it is.)
-
Layer 1.
Rename: Son of Byun Goong.
His nanny’s from Hong Kong and converses strictly in English with him and his father. The Busan dialect is too difficult for her to understand. She’s been told to keep him in her room should his father ever have guests over, which is often. They’re all women, a string of them who are at most a decade younger than his father; they all begin to blur together to a boy of five, disinterested in the many affairs of his parent. In hindsight, it would’ve been incredibly dangerous to desensitize a boy to sex and infidelity at such a young age. Then again, that boy would have needed to pay attention in the first place to become sensitive at all. Perhaps that’s where it went wrong.
Layer 2.
Rename: First Place of Class 3-B.
He remembers his homeroom teacher’s voice being shrill and quite annoying. There were plenty of trouble-makers in his class, kids who dusted off the chalkboard eraser on each other’s cheeks and thought it’d be funny to take turns pissing out their classroom’s third story window. Maybe it wasn’t such a feat to be first place in a class like that, but it still created an illusion that he was most likely to become the next CEO of Samsung, the president, the highly esteemed owner of the arcade down the street. And there’s another thing that went awry early in his life. Expectations never mixed well with kids like him.
Layer Mask.
Rename: Gifted Kid Burnout.
That’s what his cousin, Alex, says he’s going to end up being. He’s seventeen, in a permanent state of back-to-back existential crises, and can’t wait to experience his first hangover. Alex is a couple years older, halfway through his bachelor’s degree in computer science, an embodiment of his possible future. When he pulls a confused face, Alex bemoans the state of English education by private tutors before delving into the highly sensationalized story of “super senior” Bradley. Super Senior Bradley had been the star quarterback at Alex’s high school as a sophomore (“Completely unheard of!”) and had had a girlfriend at least three years older than him (“Hot! Sexy! Incredible!”). The idyllic life in the eyes of teenage boys had been all but tossed onto the table in front of him, but Super Senior Bradley hadn’t taken the bone. “It was like the lights went out in him one day,” Alex says gravely. “He lost everything, but he didn’t care. No one was home in him to care.” He hated that he understood.
Layer 3.
Rename: Computers.
Dear Dad,
College sucks and I am killing myself tonight. I blame you.
Love,
Juwon
(Layer has been deleted.)
Layer 4.
Rename: Midlife Crisis.
His advisor says he’s too young to be having one. She “strongly disapproves” of his decision to change majors, which he’s pretty sure she isn’t supposed to say out loud, to his face, as per the Official Advisors’ Code of Conduct. He asks why, which is a mistake. She says he won’t make it out of this alive.
Layer 5.
Rename: Wait.
He lands a job, which is a surprise in itself. There’s a recklessness to the way he lives now, freed from the weight of his father’s expectations. He doesn’t think half as long about what he says, nor does he worry so much about how he’s holding up in his classes. Maybe he’s burned out like Alex had told him he would, but it still feels like he’s doing cartwheels through blazings rings of fire. Maybe it’s the frequency at which he tells himself that he’s going to die tomorrow, going to die tomorrow, going to die tomorrow. Whatever it is, he’s done thinking about it. When he walks into the company building on his first day of work, he doesn’t feel nervous at all. “Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life.”
(Layers have been merged.)
(File has been saved as: Byun Juwon.)
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dan and phil play golf with friends #2: a summary
DanandPhilGames caddy lads "you loved it, you were like yes the golf lifestyle, i'm wearing expensive polo shirts i'm sipping an overpriced drink, im nattering with the business fellows and hitting that ball" says dan whilst well in the knowledge most of us are shut away in our bedrooms in our pyjamas with not a penny to our name and sipping on tap water "so we're here in the dan and phil golf club and there is a certain dress code, dan" i like to take this as phil foreshadowing the beautiful fashion choices dan is making during this singapore trip even though he clearly isn't foreshadowing anything moment of appreciation for the singapore trip's outfit choices tho please moment over thirty three seconds in we get the first fond glance, hopefully the first of many "the only short sleeved short i have is creased, phil" the look that he's giving phil reeaaalllyyy makes me wonder how it got creased... "i don't care, just go get it on" says phil the fashion meister helllooooo moth shirt my favourite my best friend my one true love "we had green shit in our hair for like three hours after we put these on" who needs context amirite "dan thought i threw these away but no i've been secretly hiding them" ok but how is that so domestic "look how erect my flag is today" / "list of things you should like never say again...." (unless they're off camera to me) ((i finished the quote that the jumpcut edited out)) "you know the rules. we can only do one dan vs phil per game" is that a rule? have they said that before? okay sure let's roll with it they're playing for the burger socks from a few liveshows ago "i ordered this for a friend but they sent two" sure phil a company would clearly go out of their way to send two of the same product meaning they'd be out of profit,,, your friend definitely didn't just give them back to you "do i want to eat them or wear them?" i'm certain that this is not the first time that sentence has come out of dan's mouth "are you excited by that? do you want that? on your feet?" / "i so want the cheese on my foot." *jumpcut* *phil says literally one word and dan is already grinning at him* f o n d "this is something to watch like a sport, and enjoy like a sport" unless you're making a summary of this video meaning you have to rewind every two seconds thanks phil "lingering banter... just enjoy the time between jokes" *both giggle like the dorks they are* "you liked the last one, so strap yourselves in for some golf" "we need to customise our balls" can dan go one gaming vid without dragging tumblr like i go through all of this effort for you pls don't drag me you little curly haired shit "[about the colour of his ball] i would call that moonlight dolphin" dan has gone for plain white this time does this represent him emotionally who knows at the time of filming i like symbolism and connotations they're fun "oh my gosh, it's like... goodness has returned" phil why are you so cute "i'm calling our room dogs9000 today" / "very appropriate" first of all why is it appropriate second of all is that what they called their room on the tour bus "stop. they just do what they want. stop telling them what to do." / "i guess that's valid. i'm sorry, butterflies, you do you." "i'm like so oasis right now" "ancient egypt is my favourite historical period so i'd like to delve into there" i think i've found the next fic trend why are they using the chatroom when their chairs are literally touching and from the front angle it looks as if their hands are too "my pole is so tall you can't even see the flag" again my gut instinct is that it isn't the first time those words have come out of phil's mouth "... and other sentences that phil will never say again" (unless they're off camera to me) ((i finished his quote for him again he should pay me for this)) "beginnu" / "golf it up" dan has more fluidity in his hand movements than phil does take what you will from that information "here we go" / "here we golf" tag urself "oh you're inside my ball again" / "we're already freaking out inside each other" *phil laughs a lot and grins then followed by a mysterious jumpcut* "bit too much power for danny there" dan is already being a sore loser but he can't help but be all smiley that phil is all smiley and jokey phil cheers him on still "if i can get it in now, it'll be okay" i've said it once and i'll say it again... definitely not the first time those words have been said by danny boy they clean up the whole two computer debacle "i'm deceived by the curves" joint vibing and dancing to the music "you're in africa the hole is in antarctica" mister geography "you absolute cheeky little twit" a new addition to the list of fond insults from dan to phil sore loser dan continues to thrive phil manages to screw up literally the easiest shot in the world??? i love you boy but oh how you suck at this game and now dan is smiling again what a sadistic lil tot "welcome to the land of pain and misery" thanks dan for my new bio dan's lovely lady gaga rendition gets cut short by a jumpcut wtf give me the good stuff i deserve it oh he finished the rendition what a pair of lungs on that kid *phil definitely says 'oh shit'* "i didn't swear then" yes you did just accept your potty mouth perfect opportunity to kick the old branding to the curb a girl can dream ok "oh you're going to be stuck for ten hours, phil, how is this going to go" "i can't even see myself... oh i went in" seriously how many times in one video can my gut instinct tell me dan's said these sentences before in his lifetime "the power of wobbling knocked me in" "that felt good to me" "my lovely philly lumps, check 'em out" what a beautiful rendition phil i would buy it on itunes / "...things you should never say again, volume twelve" cocky dan strikes again "you okay there?" / "i'm feeling very emotional about this" "par? more like cheat" / "that's par for the course" please stop talking over each other this summary takes long enough as it is without having to rewind ten times "oh we're the same now" / "now we're even" / "i was so happy with my lead" / "guess we're going to have to cut our feet in half" / "yeah..." *phils cute laugh* "that's obviously just saying go for it... but how much power?" / "smack it" i imagine this is phil's outlook on life six minutes fifty four seconds in... rip headphone users "we're gonna take like eleven goes at this" not if you both strikeout, my guy "this is so much harder than the last one" phil please don't make this too easy for me "please release us from this hell" i'd like to thank the universe for the occasional slivers of dan skin we see through the gaps in his shirt buttons "i'll happily sit here for three and a half hours now whilst phil gets it in" ... oh come on it's definitely not the first time he's said that sentence drinking game: take a shot every time they say 'yes' or 'yeah' that'll get you drink awfully quick "get out of my zone! stop touching me!" / "knock. knock." stop talking over each other please i beg of you "i'll touch you when i please..." okay dan you are aware of the camera pointing at you right phil's reaction is all of us at dan just saying that sentence "... don't say that again" (unless it's off camera to me) ((now i'm apparently finishing phil's sentences for him, he should pay me too)) "i'm so sorry for this whole video" ty dan cocky dan is here to stay, it seems like dan got so cocky that he fucked up i love life "that's what you get for being cocky!" i love phil "i'm out of strokes? that's how bad i was?" i don't know why my gut instinct is telling me phil's said that before but... anyway "you are now... eight over my score, phil." look at dans hands he's dying to do a mr burns impression and say excellent "that was a mystery adventure if i ever saw one" "*sigh* oh phil" "phil, phil, dear me" in all the videos of this game i've watched before nobody managed to make that pillar shot and yet dan does it on his first try...... sure okay "king of golf. yes." / "shush" phil made it too yay "guys if you're feeling like i'm just going to lose, i'm really going to try from now on" he looked at the camera like he meant it *dan looks over* "phil's gonna take this so seriously. no more bants, just solid golf seriousness" dan do you just stop listening to yourself when you talk "solid whacking" / "okay in the list of things that are serious, saying 'solid whacking', that's- that's not up there" *dan two seconds later* "so i'm just gonna whack it" "boom... slide... crack" i'm not even trying to analyse that "how would anakin do this" "i was using the force! did you see?" / *dan smiles fondly* "no i didn't" "if you whack me over the edge i'm going to bury you alive" "shit fucking wank fuck" "how did you get that wrong?" i'm still asking that question to phil about that other hole dan i feel you "that was sexual" / "that was the most erotic math based experience i've ever had" / "i liked that" "the skateboarding teenager inside me wants to go back and do this" / "could skateboarding teenage phil ever have skated around that?" / "he would have said that he could do it, but he would've fallen off... and hit his head" / "it's the trying that counts" "oh philly philly two whack" the game either wants phil to win and keeps sabotaging dan, dan wants phil to win and he keeps sabotaging himself, or dan is just that bad at the game he keeps fucking up i'd put my money on the latter "i want to have children with this course" first of all there will be fics of this and i will turn over in my grave, secondly poor janice :( "shitty fuck no i need to be in a straight line" "i wouldn't trust that with a barge pole" king of the english language "miss miss" phil being the ever supportive best friend "lara croft would... love this" "remember that you owe me two strokes" / *sassily* "no i don't" / "yeah you do, the game broke" / "that's-that's your fault" / *laughs* "no it's not!" this is literally the conversation that defines their friendship and it is beautiful "he's the one that's trolling me by stopping my ball" dan pls "i'm going in" / "do it, phil" you're just making it too damn easy for me "i would watch golf on tv if phil commentated it" dan you would watch anything that phil was even remotely involved with dan the sore loser back again dan is doing some kind of animal impression and if sounds as if it's a bird in heat or something "you wanna say that's not count (*literally dan wtf*) see the comments. they'll be- they'll be ju-thirsty for justice." not considering you drag us every chance you get you lil shit #teamphil also dan is tumbling over his words so much this video is he okay dan makes up a stupid penalty for phil to do because the game apparently hates him but in reality he just sucks, and phil goes along with it because he's phil how the hell did dan manage to jump over the high wall "i just left clicked and i bobbed.. i wasn't supposed to bob" "that's definitely not in- okay you did it" oooh one point difference "oh i didn't get some dinghy time then" "how ya doin? nice to see you there" "believe in the power" "you did a much more satisfying one than me" "your non-gender specific caddy gimp would need to be fanning you..." / "caddy gimp?" / "yeah" / "i'd just want them to put me on a camel, give me a pina colada, play golf for me... and i'd just be like this on my laptop" we all know phil loves his pina colada *wink wink* "... yeah that's the dream" well we know dan's opinion on pina colada don't we *wink wink* "leona lewis would hate you" shots fired "yes i did just cheat by looking at your bar" / "you can't look at my bar!" / "oh well i just did!" cocky dan back with his questionable sounds "he's thinking about how tasty your ball is right now" "yes sphinx daddy, let's go" "climbing inside the pyramid vagina" "you've got a mystical glow about you" "you're kind of ruining the vibe" "look how much you're illuminating the whole" dan the cocky sod literally looks like a child rn "i don't know what's happening but i'm excited by it" did phil just channel his inner chandler from friends bc that is all too similar to the chandler quote "tease it in" / "never say that again" "that deserves extra points that was incredible" proud bf phil "ooh toasty ball" they're helping each other along aw "i mean fuck the dan vs phil board... this is a prize worth playing for" *dan shakes the burger socks* the game broke so they restarted it and they now have the same score wooow "this is not how god wanted it but this is what's happening" phil says as he takes his two shot penalty "i don't think, erm, if god does exist, in any form, that He would give a shit about this game, phil" / "i think he would" dan gives phil a full rundown on his math-based plan "you copied my strats!" "let me just sniff these socks" / "ew" "are you more of a leftie or a rightie?" / "i'm gonna be... rightie as that is what i write with" rip all you leftie philgirls "how do you know? you don't know left and right" bloody hell dan calm down "it's a bridge to cleopatra's bedroom" *phil lands on the pyramid* "is he wearing any underwear?" "everyone who doesn't know math right now is just like... whirring with calculations right now" actually i'm just sat here typing this so screw you howell you don't know me "i'm just going to max power it over here" did anyone else think of the simpsons? when homer changes his name? anyone at all? okay then "that means i win!" phil shouts enthusiastically and claps his hands together phil continues to clap it ends as a draw!!!! "so does that mean we've gotta share the socks?" "i want the cheese- i want the lettuce" phil bless you "it'll be like those people that get like best friend necklaces that complete each other except for us it's burger socks." *modelling the socks* "look at those dank socks" "the best bit is when you went through the sphinx's mouth and when you went through the uterus" they'd be up for another vid yes please i need one!!!!!! n e e d!!! the twilight course would be next "now we're gonna pick the green stuff out of our hair... go on phil, groom me like a monkey" dan. "get that moss out" seriously. dan. danisnotsandy auterusphil (which of them did this) also phil pretended to eat whatever he just supposedly groomed from dans head okay eventful video.
#THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO WHAT THE FUCK#sorry this is so long but also not sorry#hope you enjoy#gaming vid summaries
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Sherlock “The Final Problem” Observations
1.
Jim Moriarty has to be the smoothest motherfucker in the fictional world. He just does it so well! It takes a certain amount of class to be like that, and yet Andrew really pulls it off. I’ve admittedly missed him.
He was fun.
Jim could somehow get it on with a peach and it would seem perfectly normal and even expected thanks to Andrew’s impeccable acting.
2.
Mycroft is sitting alone in the dark, watching an old film and giggling like a damn dork as he mouths the words like he’s some fucking genius. So damn proud of himself.
And then that tiny smile when he sees the old video of his family from years back. As if he’s shocked to see it and shocked to be moved by it.
And then ‘I’m Back’ has to fuck it up. Just when the Ice Man was getting the #FEELS someone has to ruin it! I was so ready to squeal!
Though the joke itself was kind of funny it thankfully got rid of that shitty ass, poor-foreplay-filled film he was watching. Good Christ that was painful.
And then Mycroft literally goes and proves me RIGHT! For years I have lived with the belief that there was a weapon of some sort in that umbrella and I feel so very fucking brilliant! Why else would he carry it around ALL the time?
Mycroft lives in this big ass house that is literally decorated out the ass with unnecessary shit. That’s gotta be effin lonely, good Lord. The open space, the vacancy. It’s kind of sad to see how lonely the British Government is without him even realizing it.
John and Sherlock are dicks. All is right in their world.
For now.
3.
Bill ‘The Wig’ Wiggins gets another mention!
Though seriously, wtf is with the fandom in forgetting who he is? Like, how many posts labeled him as some ‘nameless junkie’ in “The Lying Detective”?
He may be a drug addict, but he’s a brilliant Chemist that even Sherlock takes seriously. Give the guy a break. Doing drugs or alcohol doesn’t make you any less of a person. They just make you a person who might need some help and self control.
4.
Mycroft: This is a private matter.
John: *moves to get up*
Sherlock: John stays.
Mycroft: This is family.
Sherlock: THAT’S WHY HE STAYS!
John: *tiny half smile at his notepad*
This part was really touching because it’s Sherlock showing an insistence that John is important to him and that of all the people he wants with him while he’s learning such intense things about himself, he wants John to be there.
No offense, but choosing your friend over your blood relations is a very important action.
Sherlock’s icy indifference had been chipped away by John a little at a time, until he feels comfortable enough to admit in front of his brother, who thinks that ‘caring is not an advantage’, that he thinks of his best friend as family first and foremost.
That sociopathic exterior just slowly gets further and further away.
5.
Mycroft is 7 years older than Sherlock. Sherlock is one year older than Eurus. Sherls was the middle child. It literally explains so much. Being the middle child sucks.
6.
Mrs Hudson rocking away to heavy metal while hoovering is probably the coolest thing. The Aston Martin was awesome, but her musical taste is wow. I love her and I want her as an honorary Nana.
7.
John: Oscar Wilde.
Mycroft: What?
John: He said, ‘the truth is rarely pure and never simple’. *breaths deeply* It’s... The Importance of Being Earnest. We did it in school.
Mycroft: So did we, now I recall. I was Lady Bracknell.
Sherlock: Yeah. You were great.
Mycroft: You really think so?
Sherlock: Yes, I really do.
Mycroft: That’s good to know. I’ve always wondered.
Sherlock: *looks down* *whispers* Good luck, boys.
God, the suspense killed me. And I swear that little brotherly exchange was sad.
8.
Eurus knew Bach from a second of sound. That’s awesome. I play games like that to test my musical knowledge and am nowhere near as good. She’s like a bloody computer.
9.
The whole glass bit was pretty interesting. It’s an optical illusion catered to one specific direction. If he were to come at her from a different angle, he would have noticed the odd cut in the signs.
You see what you expect to see. Why would a major facility not have a dangerous person behind a glass wall?
He wasn’t observing.
10.
John being the one to notice whose voice was on the recording is great. Mycroft, Mr. Genius couldn’t even tell.
I like it when John is given a chance to prove that he too can pay attention. That he can observe like Mycroft and Sherlock. Of course it lands them in deep shit, but it’s still nice all the same.
John isn’t some rug to be walked on and he’s not just a sidekick.
11.
Jim is ‘relatable’. And to be frank he really is which is so not fair!
“The Hungry Donkey” is a fanfic I would love to read. Sorry, but Jim had a point. Putting a baby in a manger is literally asking for trouble.
12.
Sherlock asking John how he is when he wakes up is really sweet. Like, he’s considerate of John’s health so much and my feels...
Also, he teases John a lot. Teasing!
13.
Sherlock was moving on to calm the little girl down. He was trying to reassure her with praise for following instructions.
Watching his growth as a character is honestly so special and I love the obvious changes from season one.
14.
Mycroft being terrified to kill someone is probably the most humane thing I’ve seen from him. Like, he honestly lost his cool then and was unable to differentiate between the situations. And I think it shows more depth to his character and how he views the ‘world of goldfish’ truly.
If Mycroft was as detached and emotionless as he wants everyone to believe, then he wouldn’t show such feelings, especially in front of others.
Hiding his face in his hand and leaning against the wall so he doesn’t have to watch. Despite the power he controls and the danger he has probably had to become familiar with, he couldn’t handle it.
The erratic breathing and mild panic attack setting in.
Retching against the wall.
Mycroft has gone through a little character growth of his own. And while traumatic for him, I think it was necessary.
15.
“Today we are soldiers, Mycroft. Soldiers. And that means to hell with what happens to us!”-John Watson
In all honesty, the military is not a place for fun and games. While they glam it up with words like ‘serving your country’ or ‘helping the cause’, you are basically putting yourself in danger on a constant basis. You are working for a cause that you might not even know everything about, but you are going to give it your all because in the military, the good of the many outweigh the needs of the few.
Because you might one day have to throw yourself in the line of fire or throw yourself on a bomb to save your comrades. Military is not about you. You agree to shed who you are to make yourself a tool to be used for the ‘safety’ of your cause.
That is what it means to be a soldier. John is a soldier, and he realizes what is happening. And he knows that now is not the time for games and competitions. It’s about the good of the many being more important than the need of the few,
And it’s a lesson that Mycroft needs.
John has had at least one chance in each season to put Mycroft in his place and I like that this time wasn’t for the sake of a joke and one-upping him.
Mycroft needs to understand that not everything is a contest and being the ‘best’ isn’t always the best thing.
16.
The name of the person who was supposed to get the coffin, was on the lid. Mycroft has some sass in him somewhere.
17.
Molly’s kitchens is a chef’s wet dream. I swear to God, I want everything in it. Everything I can and cannot see. Who would have thought that such a secluded woman would have such a state of the art kitchen?
But if she has this bomb ass kitchen, then she must be a cook of some sort. Why else would she need a house/flat with such a detailed room if she was practically incapable of cooking anything and wouldn’t need it?
So I headcanon that Molly is basically a great cook and likes to make morgue jokes to her food while she cooks it.
Her jumper was hideous though. We can’t have everything it seems.
It also sucks that Molly got dragged into it. Again. Like, can’t the girl have some damn peace and quiet in her life? Can’t she just relax?
And it’s incredibly sad because she was basically friend zoned before she had to confess her feelings for a man that won’t return them the way she wants.
Though she made him realize how incredibly hard it is to admit your feelings. Even if he doesn’t love her, he struggled to say those words. After he literally threw them about a moment prior, many times, he could not do it when put on the spot because she was his friend and he knew his insincerity would hurt her.
18.
To put ‘I Love You’ on a coffin is a bit macabre, isn’t it? It’s basically implying that the Love was dead before it truly began.
And that’s sad.
Especially when Sherlock began to emotionally trash the shit out of it because he was just that wrung out.
19.
“Brother mine.”
I am not well right now. He cares a lot. And I care a lot. And we all care too much. He tried to anger Sherlock in order to have Sherlock shoot him. He wanted his little brother to be able to keep his best friend this time, and that hurts.
And Sherlock shaking and being so sad and unable to do it. He cares too.
My #FEELS
Sherlock turning the gun on himself because he doesn’t want to shoot his big brother or his best friend.
RIP Melli.
20.
The trauma of having to realize that your childhood friend was killed by your own sister, is one thing.
But we as an audience now understand more about Sherlock. He re-wrote his own story because he didn’t like it. He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to. A common thing in those with PTSD.
Sherlock’s actions from then on were a reflection of his new attitude. His character in A Study In Pink makes more sense now.
And it’s probably the saddest thing to realize for him.
21.
Greg calling Sherlock a ‘good man’ is a nice way to come full circle from episode one of season one.
He called him Greg!
Sometimes I wondered if Sherlock actually knew his name but said wrong ones to annoy him. It’s a very Sherlock thing to do.
22.
“It is what it is.”
23.
Mummy Holmes looks to Sherlock and asks him for help. “You were always the grown up.”
Probably the best moment in Sherlock’s life. Like he’s somehow managed to be the more mature between he and Mycroft, in his parents’ eyes. More responsible. Level-headed. Which is ironic considering what happened in this episode.
24.
Sherlock and Eurus performing a duet.
Now, this is a bit strange for me to like especially after the emotional trauma she put them all through throughout the episode, but when I see Eurus, I don’t see a copy of Mycroft or Sherlock.
Sherlock was once a ‘machine’. If anything. Eurus is the machine, constantly working through variables in an effort to understand.
Sherlock’s emotions are what make him a great detective. Eurus has a great mind, but her lack of understanding for emotions are her downfall in a way. She’s not good with them, much like Mycroft, and so she remains to be like a computer.
A computer that needs heavy rewiring. And a de-bugging.
She is not well. She will not have a normal life.
“Genius needs an audience,” as Sherlock once said. She had no audience. She had no friends. She had nothing. No one. She was her own friend. And it didn’t do her any good.
On top of that, I’m not certain her situation was handled properly. It doesn’t seem like the best was done for her, and while I get limited options at the time, couldn’t they have done better as technology and the area of medicine progressed?
Sherlock playing a duet with her doesn’t mean he forgives her. Maybe he’s accepted what she’s done, and can understand her point of view now. Maybe he knows how unwell she truly is, and he pities her.
Or he’s genuinely interested in the sister who was pretty much gone from his life for at least 30 years.
The Holmes parents wanted to be in contact with her despite everything she’d done. What’s so off about Sherlock being curious? His entire memory was rearranged because of it. He has a right to be curious.
25.
MISS YOU
“Who you really are doesn’t matter.”
A lot of people have emotionally taken this phrase out of context. And I could honestly gripe about how pathetic it is, but my comment just now kind of explains my thoughts of almost everyone else’s thoughts, so I’ll continue on.
As always, people take only one part, instead of the whole.
“I know who you really are. A junkie who solves crimes to get high, and the soldier who never came back from the war.”
Mary lays it on them. The facts of who they are. Sherlock is an addict and he substitutes cocaine, for crime solving to keep his mind afloat and of use. Otherwise he’d been higher than a kite and eating chips all the time.
John was unable to transition into the life of a civilian. Much like other soldiers never truly do. You can take the soldier out of the war, but you cannot take the war out of the soldier, and this is a textbook case of it.
She broke them down past their titles and what everyone knows them as, to their basics. Who they really are.
And being a junkie isn’t considered cool. Having an addiction to adrenaline isn’t considered cool. Most would look down on such things if they knew the truth about Sherlock and John and their inner struggles and problems. They’d been deemed unstable. Awkward. Dangerous probably.
Two men who live together actively seeking danger and possibly life threatening circumstances constantly, in order to fulfill some kind of addiction they each have.
But Mary goes on to tell them that it doesn’t matter.
I have said many times that doing drugs or alcohol doesn’t make you a bad person. And a lot of people would look down on them for the truth of who they are, but Mary tells them it doesn’t matter. She knows them and who they can become. She understands both of them in ways that other people can’t.
It shouldn’t matter if someone is a junkie or if they suffer PTSD. It shouldn’t be their defining characteristic. We are more than our choices. Sherlock and John are more than their choices.
And to get all angry over something that simple is immature and as I previously stated, pathetic.
26.
John spraying the new smiley face on the wall.
I lowkey thought he and Mrs Hudson were annoyed by it, but he literally re-sprays it on the new wallpaper!
Sherlock shoots the wall again to be sure.
He then stabs the mantel, much to poor Mrs Hudson’s vexation.
27.
Sherlock and John living in 221B and raising Rosie together. And John smiling up at Sherlock. Yes. Seeing Sherlock going from trying to reason with a baby on how to keep a rattle, to bouncing her in his arms while he smiles, is great.
It’s a moment that I’ve wanted for years.
28.
Finally, my opinion of the Sherlock fandom has gone down since this season started. I never once had a problem until people started attacking me for liking the episodes. People literally mocking me for not believing that John cheated on his wife. And then turning around a week later claiming they didn’t believe it either. I had those blogs marked down and when I checked on them after “The Lying Detective” aired, I blocked every one of their lying asses.
Sherlock is a great show. A show about Sherlock Holmes primarily. Hence why the show is named after him. We see him in the beginning. We see him in the end. It’s his journey. His adventure.
In the last episode of season 4, Sherlock asked John if he was okay, several times. He wasn’t in any way concerned in A Study In Pink. He’s grown as a person by opening up with John.
I liked season 4. There was drama at every turn, little extra bits here and there that required another watch or 5, secrets and riddles that had to be solved. So many throwbacks to the books and former shows, like usual int he show.
I was happy with everything. As a GenderFluid Pansexual, I was not insulted. I didn’t ‘feel attacked’ by anything in Sherlock. I wasn’t phased in the least by anything. I don’t consider anything ‘queerbaiting’ or a ‘spit on the LGBTQ+ Community’. We got Irene for God’s sake! Sexy Lesbian Dominatrix who is smarter than Sherlock, more cunning than Mycroft, and assured in her own sexuality and self. And she wasn’t killed off.
There’s this strange western concept that sex and kissing proves that two people love each other. Romance doesn’t not depend on gender. So unless you’re telling me you’re in love with someone’s genitals, cut the shit.
I don’t need them to kiss. I need them together, happy, doing what both of them love, looking out for each other, and being the pillar the other needs. And if they were opposite genders, this would have immediately been considered canonical conformation of Joanlock. But it’s like it’s only canon if the men kiss for everyone to see.
A kiss doesn’t mean you love someone. Moving to shoot yourself so you don’t have to choose between who to shoot, is a bigger declaration of love.
The words ‘I love you’ are bandied about constantly. They have no meaning in my book. I look to actions to show me how someone feels. So telling someone you love them is easy(if you’re not Molly). But offering to give your life for them isn’t easy.
I take that to be important. I take the emotional support between them as my confirmation.
And if the majority of the fandom wants to throw a fit and continue to be depressed, then do so. But don’t count me in on it.
I’m restricting my contact to the fandom on Tumblr. Shockingly, Tumblr ended up being the cesspool of hate from the Sherlock fandom, out of all the possible sites to cause drama.
So many fandoms are disgusted by BBC Sherlock right now. So many people glad to have not been dragged in ever, as they witness people being attacked in just the past day alone. Their feeds and dashboards filled with blatant harassment between bloggers who can’t grow up.
It’s gotten ridiculous and I don’t want to be a part of it when there are so few people left who actually use their brains.
The Sherlock Fandom has become just like the Twilight Fandom. Congrats. You’ve put me off to fandom happenings and ensured many don’t want to get to know the show we supposedly love so much. And you confirmed the beliefs of a lot of others, over the ‘pretentious assholes’ that make up the Sherlock fandom.
#finally watched in full#this was all noted after one watch though#unliek some i'm not scared to watch again to verify my observations#yep#my opinion#and if you're salty too fucking bad#peopel overreacted to the episode
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Hi Reddit,
I’m in need of some advice.
Please note this is a wall of text, and in many ways, it’s just me thinking out loud. Please keep this in mind, I’d love any feedback at all.
Quick Background
So recently I’ve gone out on my own and I’m making websites for small businesses. I’m using WordPress, so typically I’ll build a site for them and then host it ongoing (via a reseller plan), and provide support etc as required.
Additionally, I also resell hosting to randoms that are happy to look after themselves. I’m using cPanel/WHM with WHMCS.
Overall things are going pretty well in terms of business. I have a number of clients with more coming each month.
But I’ve got some nagging thoughts in the back of my head…
You see, I have a reseller account with a large company. They have a reputation for being corporate juggernauts who don’t give a shit. It’s really easy to find people bagging them all over the internet. Complaints range from full-on “scams” to the usual poor performance, websites easily hacked, etc.
Prior to this business adventure, I’ve had a website with them for a few years and have never had any issues. Always great customer service and technical support. Performance is sometimes a minor issue but never enough to enrage me.
This has continued into my current reselling adventures. In my experience, everything is fine so far in terms of service etc from this company. The only thing is that I’m conflicted about is website performance.
It’s nothing absolutely disgusting, and certainly, none of my clients have complained about it. Though it’s something I’m mindful of as my business grows.
I’m well aware that I’m essentially reselling (probably) overcrowded shared hosting and I don’t really feel good about it.
I’m basically worried that, in the long term, my hosting service just isn’t going to cut it.
Here’s the Part Where You Give Me Advice
Just to be clear, right now things aren’t bad. I just want a clear idea in my head when thinking about the future as my business grows and more clients come on board.
I’m wanting to think about this now, and get it sorted early, rather than putting it off. I don’t want to wake up later down the line, as more and more clients come on board, and suddenly the idea of moving services becomes a bastard of a job (and with much higher risk).
I’m basically looking to future proof my business via good planning. My primary concern is poor server performance as my business grows.
With this in mind, it seems like basically, I have 4 options.
Option One
I could continue as I am now, and when required I could switch to a VPS server with the same provider as I currently use.
All of my clients get transferred to the new VPS server, and I continue as normal.
Pros:
This is the obvious and easy path. I think the host handles the transfer of all cPanel accounts from shared server to the VPS when I upgrade. I would expect this to be “safe” in terms of minimal downtime etc.
Familiarity. I’m familiar with this already (in terms of cPanel/WHM/WHMCS). I know that simple things, such as being able to provide webmail for clients, will be all good.
Cons:
I’m not really sure how having a VPS would improve performance (if at all). I don’t have much real-world developer/webmaster experience – I’m just a humble self-taught bloke.
Option Two
I move to something like AWS (Lightsail?), Google Cloud or DigitalOcean. I would essentially set up a new account and transfer my clients over (even if it were just one at a time over time) and scale the droplet (or create new) as needed.
Pros:
This is much more appealing because I know that performance would be a thousand times better then what I’m currently using.
It seems the most logical future-proof choice.
Cons:
Firstly, I’m not even really sure if this is possible. I have literally zero experience with any cloud computing/droplets.
Probably a lot more technically involved than option one. Likely above my current skill/knowledge level (but I learn well).
There are a lot of unknowns due to my large knowledge gaps. For example, how “safe” is it to run multiple cPanel accounts in one droplet? Is it possible to jail accounts to make them independent of each other? How does webmail work in these situations? I assume I have to purchase cPanel/WHM/WHMCS licenses (currently free from my reseller plan) – that’s fine, but does having cPanel mean my clients will have webmail services?
Probably most importantly, how realistic is it for a self-taught random like me to manage something like a DigitalOcean droplet without fucking up bad and running a bunch of local businesses (ie, my clients).
Option Tree
Basically a combination of 1 and 2 above. So for example, I could use a standard reseller plan to resell to random DIY people. However, the clients that pay me to build and manage their website, I could possibly put them on a DigitalOcean droplet for performance purposes.
Option Four
Move my entire reseller account to another provider. Choose a new provider which has more focus on performance (or basically just has a much better reputation within the industry).
Pros:
Receive better performance (probably?) without scary changes.
Familiarity; this would most likely be identical to my current setup.
Gives the opportunity to pick a provider that has servers that are closer, physically, to my market location.
Conclusion
I think that my ideal setup would be basically what I have right now, which is cPanel/WHM/WHMCS and all the associated stuff (webmail and so on) but all on a scalable cloud service like DigitalOcean.
The problem is that I have no idea how feasible this is.
A close followup would be my current setup but with a provider that has a better reputation in the industry, has more focus on performance, and has servers physically closer to me.
Having said this, I’m pretty open to trying a VPS with my current provider too.
I’d love to hear any opinions from anyone with suitable experience.
Thanks so much!
Submitted April 13, 2018 at 03:58AM by Sykocis https://www.reddit.com/r/webhosting/comments/8by9xo/need_advice_for_growing_business/?utm_source=ifttt
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We will always be together
From being a primitive kid high on drugs for the fun of it , I often took it as my eyes mistake and ignored it. It was fatal of me to ever leave such a serious topic so simply. Truth is , humans have lived and adapted on this world for thousands of years but at times our very own house becomes unfamiliar to us. The world shows us its more than just humans and animals and life on it. There are other entities or beings that we have no knowledge about.
October 2017 2:32 AM I spot her sitting in our the breakfast nook, sunlight falling like dust through her torso to the rumpled rug in front of the small table. She’s staring out the window, parts of her fading in and out of view. “No,” I say, grabbing the counter in case my suddenly weak legs betray me. “No.” She turns and smiles at me with the weight of the world in her eyes. Those beautiful whom I used to love and continously stare onto felt so cold and haunting now. I grab my cell phone from the pocket of my sweatpants and call her. One ring. Two rings. Three. “Hello?” My hand tightens around the edge of the counter until I can hear my bones scraping together. “You ass. You don’t get to do this to me. Make it go away.” She’s silent for a long moment. Then she sighs. “My ghost?” “Yes,” I say. “Get rid of it.” “You know that’s not how this works,” she says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to haunt you,” I say. “You broke up with me. That’s how this is supposed to go. So stop.” Stop or come back. But she doesn’t say anything else before she hangs up. I turn to scream at her ghost but, like herself, it’s gone.
“She’s one of those,” my sister says knowingly. She sounds far away and tiny over the computer’s speakers. “You better be careful. Sometimes they don’t leave.” I consider my cup of cocoa. She’s holding a matching cup half a world away so that they’re connected. I wonder if she’s foregone her usual shot of baileys this time. “What do I do then?” “Try to move on anyway,” she says. Behind her something peeks around the kitchen doorway and is gone before I can make out who. My sister’s been drinking for a decade and hasn’t once talked about quitting. “Right,” I say and imagine the poor quality of the speakers hides the hollowness in my voice.
Something wakes me up the next night. A sound, maybe, or a sixth sense. I sit up in bed, frowning, and look to the far end of the room where my closet door stands closed. I haven’t been in there since she left, choosing to wear tshirts and jeans, maybe slacks if I need to dress up instead of seeing how empty it is without her clothes. The streetlight filters in through my blinds, drawing a long shadow from my lamps and a longer one from the door handle of the closet. As I watch, the shadow moves no more than five degrees. This is a dream, I think. And then, My eyes are tired. I turn over and go back to sleep.
I’m waiting for a phone call at work the next day when I remember the door handle moving. I tap a pencil against my desk, looking out through the window in my office and try to resist. I give in and google “ghosts.” Ghosts are the echoes of living people. They imitate common patterns or significant events that the originator experienced in a given space. While it is most common for ghosts to attach themselves to locations, they are able to attach themselves to people should enough emotion linger in the originator to merit it. While visible to the human eye, ghosts have no physical presence. They can not be touched or interacted with beyond their ‘rhythms.” Ghosts dissipate with time, though the cessation of the originator's fixation will cause a more sudden disappearance… I exit out of the page as my phone rings. I’d been asleep. That’s all.
She’s sitting on the couch when I get home, the TV on and set to a respectable volume. She looks up and smiles at me when I stop at the end of the couch and it feels like a dagger in my chest. “You’re an echo,” I tell her. I drop my bag and shuck off my heels before turning on my heel. “A damn fucking echo.” The TV switches off as I go into the kitchen. She’s standing on the other side of the counter, between it and the dining room table. I ignore her as I start chopping up things for stir fry, bell peppers and onion, frying the meat and cleaning the lettuce. She stays in my peripherals until I plate it and then disappears. I pretend like I don’t want her to come back.
I wake up in the middle of the night again, heart beating with some sort of sick parody of anticipation. I sit up and watch the long shadows striping my room. The door handle doesn’t move. I rub my eyes tiredly and laugh. I’d been tired last time, that was all. I go back to lay down and freeze. She’s standing in the bedroom doorway, watching me. I collapse back to the bed and cover my eyes with my forearm, willing the tears back. My other hand fumbles for my phone and I dial his number without looking. “Go away,” I say when she picks up. “Go away.” She says nothing and lets me hang up first.
I’m shaky through the rest of the week. I spend my work days in my office, only leaving for meetings or when I absolutely need to check up on a current project. When I get home, the door is unlocked and the TV is on. For a moment, it’s like how it used to be. Someone else home, waiting, but… But she’s not here. I press my forehead to the door, hand still wrapped around the doorknob. I left it unlocked. Someone may have broken in. I enter and the TV shuts off. I eye the couch for a moment and lock the door behind me. There’s no signs of anyone else having been there. Good, I think, but I’m not relieved.
That night I stay awake later than I normally do, knees curled to my chest. She comes in at eleven, mimes brushing her teeth and then turns to the bed. She smiles, raising one eyebrow, and walks towards me. The closer she gets the less of her there is and he disappears just before she touches the edge. I find my cellphone and stare at the dark screen. No, I think and lay down to sleep. I tell myself it’s my imagination that I hear the closet door handle turning and turning and turning all night long.
I wake up at my usual time despite barely having slept. I stagger to the kitchen, cursing myself for not setting up the coffee pot last night. Now I’d have to grind the beans, get the filters out, pour the water in… I blink at the coffee pot, hand halfway into the drawer for the filters. There’s water in the back part and, when I open the top, there are ground beans inside of the filter. I close the top and press brew. I must have set it, I must have. But you didn’t. Did you? I wonder if I’m going crazy.
I barely see her at all Saturday. I clean the apartment within an inch of its life, change the sheets, pay my bills. I try and try and try not to think about her, but my mind conjures her around every corner, ghost or no. “Give it time,” my sisters says during our weekly call. She’s just as haggard as last time and there’s got to be more than cocoa in her cup this time. “All you need is time. You see her ghost today?” “No,” I say. There’s more than cocoa in my cup today too. She nods decisively. “There you go. She’s moved on. So should you.” I stare at the screen when she hangs up, cold mug still pressed between my hands. She’d said to give it time, but time for what? To move on? Or to be destroyed completely? I look up and meet her ghost’s eyes. “Fuck you,” I tell it, but that’s not what I mean at all. I close my computer and stand up, walking past her without further acknowledgement.
I call her too far into a bottle of wine. “Fuck you,” I say before she can speak. “You’re the one who left. Not me. You’re the one wh-who didn’t want to take the chance. So you can just stop.” “I’m not doing anything,” she says and she sounds tired. “Bullshit,” I say. “You’re doing this just to fuck with me. T-to keep me thinking about you. So you’d still have me even when you have-have whoever the fuck else.” “You know about–” he cuts himself off. “It’s normal to move on.” I blink at the phone. “You’re already with someone? Is that–” I laugh and press the heel of my hand into my eyes. “Does she know how you’re haunting me?” “I’m not,” she says. She sounds angry now, angry and tired. “Get help. You’re the only one making ghosts.” “Obviously not,” I say, “or you’d be calling me.” She’s silent. “This isn’t healthy. This isn’t what I wanted for us.” “Clearly,” I say sarcastically. I laugh as she appears. “And right on cue, you arrive! Fuck. You at least owed me a clean break.” I throw the empty bottle at her ghost and am not surprised when it disappears before it hits. The bottle shatters against the wall just as I begin to regret throwing it. “A clean break,” she repeats and exhales noisily. “You’re right.” She hangs up before I can say anything else, leaving me with a mess to clean, the sense of having not drunk enough water, and his fucking ghost. I dread going to sleep.
I wake up in the middle of the night again. I don’t sit up, don’t open my eyes. I just lay there, curled up on my side and pray that I fall back asleep. Behind me, I can hear gentle breathing. It’s just the wind at the window, I think. Tears leak out from under my eyelids and I pull the covers more tightly around my shoulders. Just the wind. I hum to myself until I believe it and go back to sleep.
The morning sun wakes me up. I know without looking at my phone that it’s later than usual, that I’ve actually managed to sleep in somehow. I stretch and sit up, feeling refreshed. The sheets are mussed on his half of the bed, folded back like someone had just gotten out of them. I jump out of bed like it’s burned me and snatch up my phone. I’m calling him before I’m aware of unlocking it, pressing it to my ear with one shaking hand. I can’t look away from his side of the bed, the way that the sheets are rumpled, the way that that edge is pulled out from under the mattress– “I’m sorry, the number you have reached is out of service–” The sound I make is wordless. Indescribable. I drop my phone and turn to get out, blind in my panic. She’s standing behind me. It’s too late to stop, but I try anyway, tripping over my own feet until I’m falling into him– She catches me, hands on my upper arms, and smiles. Be careful, she mouths and disappears. I stand there in my pajamas, the place where he touched me burning cold. I don’t move for a long, long time.
There are no answers on google. No conspiracy theories, no horror stories, nothing about this. There are some crackpots claiming ghosts are by products of the deceased, but that’s– I catch sight of her walking around out of the corner of my eye. She’s wearing the same striped shirt as always, but she’s wearing the leggings I bought her for her birthday instead of the shorts she left in. I pull up apartment ads, careful to angle my computer away from where her ghost might see. While it is most common for ghosts to be attached to a location…
“Are you moving?” one of my coworkers asks, looking over my shoulder during my lunch. I jump about a foot in the air and impulsively pull my laptop closer to my chest. “No! I mean, yes, but– I just want a change of pace, you know?” They eye me oddly. “Well, I’ve got a cousin that works in the apartment finding business. She’s a real wizard with that stuff. Want me to give her a call?” “Ye–” I stop to say and stop. There, outside the break room window is her.. She’s wearing a plain shirt and her hair is different and she’s holding a flower and what is happening? I’ve been silent too long. They shift from foot to foot and raise their eyebrows. “Or I could give you her number…?” She waves silently and knocks on the glass. My coworker doesn’t notice the sound, but I do. I do. I swallow hard and close my laptop. “Actually, I don’t think it’ll help.” “Please,” I whisper and she disappears.staring at her. Her smile grows and there’s something in hers eyes now, something more intelligent than an echo something more– “Please,” I whisper and she disappears.
There is pasta boiling on the stove when I get home, candles on lit on the table, and I’m crying before I see him standing in the living room. “No,” I tell her. “No. You’re not her, you will never be her. Get out. Get out!” She shakes his head and walks towards me slowly, hands out. I scramble back, tripping over my heels, and cursing. “No, no, no,” I say over and over again. I turn and bolt to the bedroom. I slam the door shut behind me, locking it, and put my back to it. I slide down until I’m sitting on the ground, heart beating so hard that I swear it’s knocking against the wood. I open my eyes and bite back a scream. The closet door is wide open, blown open, and he’s standing there. Watching me. I love you, she mouths. I press against the wood, struggling to my feet as he walks towards me. “Stop.” You’re so hot , she says and reaches for me. I grab hold of the knob and twist. She’s suddenly right there, too close to push away, chest to chest and she’s solid and freezing. Her hand is like a vice around mine as she pushes the door shut. She drags my hand away from the knob and presses it between us. “Please,” I say. “Don’t.” I’ll never leave, she tells me. She uses her free hand to stroke my hair, body still pressing mine against the door. I won’t ever leave you. …most common for ghosts to attach themselves to locations, they are able to attach themselves to people….
I drop my head against her chest and scream.
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Need Advice for Growing Business
Hi Reddit,
I'm in need of some advice.
Please note this is a wall of text, and in many ways, it's just me thinking out loud. Please keep this in mind, I'd love any feedback at all.
Quick Background
So recently I've gone out on my own and I'm making websites for small businesses. I'm using WordPress, so typically I'll build a site for them and then host it ongoing (via a reseller plan), and provide support etc as required.
Additionally, I also resell hosting to randoms that are happy to look after themselves. I'm using cPanel/WHM with WHMCS.
Overall things are going pretty well in terms of business. I have a number of clients with more coming each month.
But I've got some nagging thoughts in the back of my head...
You see, I have a reseller account with a large company. They have a reputation for being corporate juggernauts who don't give a shit. It's really easy to find people bagging them all over the internet. Complaints range from full-on "scams" to the usual poor performance, websites easily hacked, etc.
Prior to this business adventure, I've had a website with them for a few years and have never had any issues. Always great customer service and technical support. Performance is sometimes a minor issue but never enough to enrage me.
This has continued into my current reselling adventures. In my experience, everything is fine so far in terms of service etc from this company. The only thing is that I'm conflicted about is website performance.
It's nothing absolutely disgusting, and certainly, none of my clients have complained about it. Though it's something I'm mindful of as my business grows.
I'm well aware that I'm essentially reselling (probably) overcrowded shared hosting and I don't really feel good about it.
I'm basically worried that, in the long term, my hosting service just isn't going to cut it.
Here's the Part Where You Give Me Advice
Just to be clear, right now things aren't bad. I just want a clear idea in my head when thinking about the future as my business grows and more clients come on board.
I'm wanting to think about this now, and get it sorted early, rather than putting it off. I don't want to wake up later down the line, as more and more clients come on board, and suddenly the idea of moving services becomes a bastard of a job (and with much higher risk).
I'm basically looking to future proof my business via good planning. My primary concern is poor server performance as my business grows.
With this in mind, it seems like basically, I have 4 options.
Option One
I could continue as I am now, and when required I could switch to a VPS server with the same provider as I currently use.
All of my clients get transferred to the new VPS server, and I continue as normal.
Pros:
This is the obvious and easy path. I think the host handles the transfer of all cPanel accounts from shared server to the VPS when I upgrade. I would expect this to be "safe" in terms of minimal downtime etc.
Familiarity. I'm familiar with this already (in terms of cPanel/WHM/WHMCS). I know that simple things, such as being able to provide webmail for clients, will be all good.
Cons:
I'm not really sure how having a VPS would improve performance (if at all). I don't have much real-world developer/webmaster experience - I'm just a humble self-taught bloke.
Option Two
I move to something like AWS (Lightsail?), Google Cloud or DigitalOcean. I would essentially set up a new account and transfer my clients over (even if it were just one at a time over time) and scale the droplet (or create new) as needed.
Pros:
This is much more appealing because I know that performance would be a thousand times better then what I'm currently using.
It seems the most logical future-proof choice.
Cons:
Firstly, I'm not even really sure if this is possible. I have literally zero experience with any cloud computing/droplets.
Probably a lot more technically involved than option one. Likely above my current skill/knowledge level (but I learn well).
There are a lot of unknowns due to my large knowledge gaps. For example, how "safe" is it to run multiple cPanel accounts in one droplet? Is it possible to jail accounts to make them independent of each other? How does webmail work in these situations? I assume I have to purchase cPanel/WHM/WHMCS licenses (currently free from my reseller plan) - that's fine, but does having cPanel mean my clients will have webmail services?
Probably most importantly, how realistic is it for a self-taught random like me to manage something like a DigitalOcean droplet without fucking up bad and running a bunch of local businesses (ie, my clients).
Option Tree
Basically a combination of 1 and 2 above. So for example, I could use a standard reseller plan to resell to random DIY people. However, the clients that pay me to build and manage their website, I could possibly put them on a DigitalOcean droplet for performance purposes.
Option Four
Move my entire reseller account to another provider. Choose a new provider which has more focus on performance (or basically just has a much better reputation within the industry).
Pros:
Receive better performance (probably?) without scary changes.
Familiarity; this would most likely be identical to my current setup.
Gives the opportunity to pick a provider that has servers that are closer, physically, to my market location.
Conclusion
I think that my ideal setup would be basically what I have right now, which is cPanel/WHM/WHMCS and all the associated stuff (webmail and so on) but all on a scalable cloud service like DigitalOcean.
The problem is that I have no idea how feasible this is.
A close followup would be my current setup but with a provider that has a better reputation in the industry, has more focus on performance, and has servers physically closer to me.
Having said this, I'm pretty open to trying a VPS with my current provider too.
I'd love to hear any opinions from anyone with suitable experience.
Thanks so much!
Submitted April 13, 2018 at 03:58AM by Sykocis https://www.reddit.com/r/webhosting/comments/8by9xo/need_advice_for_growing_business/?utm_source=ifttt
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