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hall-of-merlin2 · 4 years

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Magic, Monsters and Merthur - 1x03 - (Merthur)

I see what the people want, I give the people what they want.

Loads, loads, and holy fuck how much character content can there be in one episode???!!!

A lot.

A whole frickin lot.

<_><_><_>

“Dad? her’es your sandwich.”

“Mmm, what’s in it?”

“It’s smoked pigeon, but I’d say there’s more smoke than pigeon.”

***

“And I’ve done you some watercress soup tonight.”

“Don’t tell me... With more water in it than cress?”

03:02

This is just… This is so frickin’ adorable. They’re both cuties, and I will declare now that “cutie” is the highest praise a character can get.

A new list is born, except we’re not comparing Cuties, we’re just all getting mushy over them.

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03:45

AWH!

This is such obvious flirting! Even more obvious than Arthur and Merlin, I daresay, but then it went nowhere because someone suddenly realized that Gwen needed to end up with Arthur. I wish whoever it was that they didn’t.

(JUST LOOK AT THEIR SMILES THEY’RE SO FRICKING ADORABLE)

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04:10

Okay, so I’m not the biggest Morgwen shipper, but…

Come on! This really is sweet!

(And can you blame Morgana for falling for Gwen? Just look at that Cutie’s smile!)

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04:40

And on the flipside we have Arthur “I’ll come all the way out to this tower that’s directly opposite everything else just to give you a message by myself and not let another servant or guard do it for me” Pendragon.

Both Pendragons really are completely gone for their servants.

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04:48

I like Gaius’ face though.

He looks like he’s one second away from shaking his head and looking at Merlin in that look that’s just so exasperated at Merlin taking everyone’s hearts on his first week.

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05:02

Gaius: Has a point.

Merlin: :O

Merlin: >:(

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05:08

YA’LL WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMEONE ICONIC-

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“But not all magic is bad. I know it isn’t!”

“It’s neither good nor bad. It’s how you use it.”

07:50

The first version of the “Evil lies in the hearts of men” line.

So, once again, YA’LL WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMEONE ICONIC-

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08:40

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

-aaaaaaaaa, nah. It’s just Arthur getting back at Merlin for “Being late”.

What a different episode THAT would have been…

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09:38

Arthur uses a snappy tone.

(Almost an accusation.)

But Gaius is having none of it.

And Arthur immediately SITS THE FUCK DOWN.

God, imagine how Arthur would have turned out if Gaius wasn’t there to “occasionally” remind Arthur that he will not be taking his shit and he can get off that pedestal now.

YA’LL WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMEONE ICONIC-

Okay okay I’m gonna stop.

Gaius has earned the Cutie award.

Welcome to the big leagues!

<_><_><_>

Are you mad? Merlin, your life’s destined for more important things.

But what if I don’t practice, then how will I get to be this… Great Warlock?!

There will come a time when your skills will be recognized.

*Frustrated noises* When?! How long do I have to wait?!

Patience is a virtue, Merlin.

Oh sitting by and doing nothing, that’s a virtue?

*Raises ladle* Your time. Will come.

I point this out a few episodes later, but this is the real difference between Gaius and Kilgharrah.

Both of their goals are to get Merlin to fulfill “his destiny”. Kilgharrah may know more of what his “destiny” actually is, but Gaius has no clue. He truly has no reason to believe that Merlin is “one side of a coin” or that Arthur is important in his “destiny”, he just sees how powerful Merlin is.

He also sees just how eager Merlin is to use his magic. How he understands the more complex concepts of magic and knows how to use it, and has quite the moral compass, that Merlin is actually prepared for “his destiny” or “doing good”, but he also sees what a hothead Merlin is, how quickly he jumps from one thought to another, how little he thinks at all once he gets something into his head. Gaius knows that whatever Merlin’s “destiny” is, he could probably handle it with what he’s already taught him, but he also knows that this thing is not “it”. And realizing that Merlin still has to wait, knowing how disinterested he actually is in that, he tries to get Merlin to power through this time. He tries to instill this “hope” into him, that he will be great, that he will be free, that he will be fine and that he just has to endure, and not kill everybody along the way.

The intent is good. And I think Merlin realizes this later, but at this stage, Merlin is still not used to sitting still. I don’t think he ever is, he’s just become more clever about it.

Also… Please enjoy yet another perfectly timed screencap.

He look happy.

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What’s different about this victim?

Uh… She’s a woman!

…

Sometimes I do wonder if your magical talents were given to the right person.

12:10

Gaius is so fuckin done XD

Ahhh okay. Gaius gets the Snarky Cutie award. This will be competed for, let’s see who holds it the longest.

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So what’s the thing they do share?

Uh… Water.

*Encouraging pen pointing*

Water. You think the disease is spread through water!

Merlin. You’re a prodigy.

12:45

Yeah… Gaius is keeping this award for a long time.

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17:19

Oh… Oh my poor Merlin… My poor boy is reminded that he has no father to hug :(

Is that one of the reasons he acted so impulsively? Besides the obvious one, that he loves Gwen – but did Merlin cure Gwen’s father because he didn’t want Gwen to live without one, like he has?

Oh… Oh…

Oh my sweet precious sunshine, my heart just shattered.

MERLIN RECEIVES THE SELFLESS CUTIE AWARD. I DON’T THINK ANYONE WILL TAKE IT OFF HIM.

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18:55

EPISODE 3 MAGIC REVEAL – THE DUO OF MERLIN AND GWEN, FUCKING SHIT UP SINCE MERLIN DECIDED TO COME TO CAMELOT.

WE DESERVED THIS.

“I’m psychic.”

*laughing* “No you’re not.”

“It’s true!”

“Alright, what am I thinking?”

“That I’m not psychic.”

*laughter* “You’re strange...

“I don’t mean that in a nasty way!

“You’re just... Funny.

“I like that.”

MY FUCKIN HEART.

THEY ARE BOTH SO ADORABLE!!!

THIS IS SO BLATANTLY OBVIOUS!

CUTIES OF THE HIGHEST CALIBER. THE ADORABLE CUTIES. THE MOST ADORABLE CUTIES TO EVER EXIST.

OH REALLY.

*loud screeching in the distance*

*sound of glass shattering*

NO THAT WAS MY HEART WHY DID YOU TAKE IT!

I MEAN CONGRATS YOU NOW HAVE IT! ARE YOU HAPPY?

I AM!

CUTIES!

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“It’s too late. They think Gwen’s a sorceress, they think she caused the disease.”

“But she didn’t!”

22:25

By any means fucking necessary.

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“I have seen the way the girl works. Her fingers are worn, her nails are broken.

“If she was a sorceress, why would she do this?!

“Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning, when she could make these things happen with the snap of her fingers?

“Like an idle king.”

“You have no right!…”

“But you have the right to cast a judgment-!”

“I have a responsibility to take care of this kingdom!”

…

“I take no pleasure in this.” (AS FUCKING IF)

“But you are sentencing the wrong person!”

“She’s right, Father. You hear the word ‘magic’ and you no longer listen.”

“You saw it for yourself, she used enchantments.”

“Yes!… Maybe. But to save her dying father! That doesn’t make her guilty of creating a plague.

“One’s the act of kindness, of love, the other of evil – I don’t believe evil’s in this girl’s heart.”

“I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I’ve suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance.

If there is the slightest doubt about this girl she must die or the whole kingdom may perish.”

“I understand that…”

“One day you may become king… Then you will understand – such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom.”

“I know witchcraft is an evil, Father, so is injustice!”

24:25

God, Morgana and Arthur uniting against Uther for Gwen and Uther just ignoring what they’re saying and repeating the same “mAgIC iS eViL hUr DuR” bullshit.

Uther should have died sooner.

Like… this episode.

Morgana should have just snapped.

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27:25

Gwen the martyr.

I can already imagine it. People at the execution whispering among themselves “She’s a witch?” “No way! She’s so kind!” “Rumors say she’s not.” “She’s not! It’s just the King again.” “But if she’s innocent, why?” “He’ll burn a frog if he thought it would help.” “That’s dumb. She doesn’t deserve to die!” “No, she does not.”

I can imagine everyone looking away, quietly letting their anger build up, but unable or not courageous enough to save her. I can imagine the people whispering to themselves when the guards are out of earshot, about how “The king is out of control”, “Her death stopped nothing!” and more. How that anger they thought they buried flares up. How it seeps through the cracks they left. How it makes them draw a knife, and plunge it into a guard’s neck. How if they felt guilty, everyone who called them a hero say that was one of Them who stood by and watched it. How that anger forms a community, how it brings people together. How the first time the chopping block is being assembled after Gwen’s death, people start talking. Who’s dying, for what reason…

How can they stop it?

A direct assault? A stealthy escape? An infiltration into the guard ranks? Maybe torches? Make bombs?

Anyone here know magic?

Oh, you do! That’s great.

Let’s kill the king.

As amazing as this sounds, Gwen would have had to die. One of the Adorable Cutie Award holders.

I will not condone that.

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28:40

Do you think Arthur’s so convinced Merlin can’t have done it because of what happened with Valiant, Merlin exposing a sorcerer, therefore his own kin if this were true? Or because, as Morgana said about Gwen

“Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning, when she could make these things happen with the snap of her fingers?”

Or because Arthur likes him just a little bit?

I think we all know what we want to believe.

<_><_><_>

“He’s in love.”

“...What?”

“With Gwen!”

“I am- not!”

“Yes you are.”

“No way-”

29:03

Oh boys…

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“...Arthur’s not going to find it. He thinks he is… so sharp. But even when I told him I was a wizard – he still couldn’t see it.”

30:14

I don’t think Arthur noticing or not has anything to do with his intelligence, Merlin, just whether or not he’d like to see you burn :)

Also, Gaius.

“Sometimes it’s pretty hard to spot.”

“Maybe I should go around wearing a pointy hat.”

“I don’t think you’d find one big enough.”

That Award crown is staying firmly planted on his head.

<_><_><_>

32:16

Nope.

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“We need to destroy [the afanc], then the plague will stop and Uther... may see sense.”

“And that’s why you need Arthur.”

“He’s our best chance.”

“But he won’t want to disobey the king.”

“Leave that to me.”

36:07

Morgana receives the Scheming Cutie Award! My girl knows what buttons to push to get men to listen to her and I think that’s very sexy of her.

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36:35

Okay, both of these Cuties receive the True Sibling Cutie Awards. I don’t think there is anyone who can take their crown from them, unless…

The True part only means how accurately sibling dynamics are portrayed. Which opens up place for at least some competition!

Hahah! No one gets to have their Award forever.

(But everyone has permanent Cutie status.)

<_><_><_>

37:33

!!!

TRUST!!!

!!!

Merlin said what sounded like something made up, like he always does, but Arthur still goes in because he believes him!

(Yes yes Morgana’s influence may be there, like ‘Oh so you’re chickening out?’, but I THINK ONLY IN MERTHUR.

And I do that because it’s very scarce in this particular ep.)

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38:01

I love this and all, but I can already think of a better way for Morgana to tell Arthur to stop being sexist.

Just pull out a fuckin sword.

Like… literally. Just from her dress. A knife maybe, but one that doesn’t look like it’s for a kid, a serious dagger that she could stab you with 50 times before you collapse from blood loss.

That’s a… Compliment to her swiftness, not… Not a comment on the dullness of the knife.

Morgana with a sword please!!!

<_><_><_>

43:19

Ah, the cop-out. The writers have committed a robbery.

(I do have to say that it is a masterful manipulation of our feelings. The first and then second episode was all about Merlin dealing with having magic and where to use it, trying to figure out his purpose and whatnot, and very strict repeats of “Do not let anyone else know, you will die”. There’s a reason Uther’s introduction is him killing an innocent sorcerer, and why Morgana is so angry at him about it. It’s establishing that Merlin revealing his magic to someone is a big deal, and it kind of is, so when we get cop-outs like these, we are dissatisfied, because Merlin revealing his magic is a positive thing, and we didn’t get this positive thing, so we are sad. And because this was hinted at, and we were already thinking of how it would look like, and we still do with the fics and stuff, we start to crave Merlin revealing his magic to those people that it was hinted at. To finally get that positive thing – that positive emotion.

This is probably more relevant when Lancelot comes by, since him being so casual about Merlin’s magic is yet more manipulation – it was only a possibility that Merlin revealing his magic is a positive, now it’s confirmed, and Lancelot becomes one of our favorite characters because of this positive thing attributed to him.

I can’t say it’s evil manipulation though, since first impressions do matter and every writer has this dilemma of how to introduce a character to associate some sort of emotion you want to invoke in people when they see them. Introductions are important, and we love or hate characters based on them, at least until learning more about them and then strengthening/changing our opinions of them. That’s why consistency is important, cause if it’s too far from the first impression, it feels odd and takes you out of the story and once you’re out of the story you start looking for more things to take you out and then you just start to hate that thing, and if someone has changed/strengthened their opinion because of one interaction, and then after that interaction the character doesn’t act like how that someone now perceives them, it also breaks the immersion and makes you question whether the writer knows what they’re doing.

I don’t… I don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess… writing theory? Stuff I noticed while writing/analyzing stuff so I could write better? Uh… Anyway.)

THE CHAOS OF THE TRIO OF GWEN MERLIN AND MORGANA WOULD HAVE BEEN GOLDEN. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH TO DESTROY CAMELOT, OR UPROOT THE MONARCHY AND ESTABLISH A DEMOCRACY!

…

It would have been FUN.

(And I’m not gonna get into how the ‘fun’ factor of a show/movie/book contributes to its re-readability and overall positive opinion more than the ‘angst’ or ‘drama’ or ‘depressive’ factors do. That’s… Meh. It’s also something I noticed while writing/analyzing stuff so I could write better. I could get into it, but I just want to finish this episode and go to sleep.)

<_><_><_>

“I hope you didn’t come to her attention.”

“Doubt it.

*Glare*

“Well no one else seems to appreciate my skills! I just want someone to see me for who I am.”

43:52

Case in point…

It really hammers home this idea in the first few episodes. And it makes it incredibly easy to understand Merlin’s motivations in the later episodes.

He just wants to be himself.

<_><_><_>

The Cutie Awards!

(First Holders of an Award Receive an Extra 2 Points Towards Their Score)

(Also everyone can have every single award at a time, it depends on what they do in the episode. At the end of a season, the one who has the most points in one award will be the winner of that award. If everyone gets to be an Adorable Cutie in one ep, it’ll even out the odds ;))

Gaius – The Snarky Cutie (3)

Guinevere – The Adorable Cutie (3)

Tom – The Adorable Cutie (3)

Arthur – The True Sibling Cutie (3)

Morgana – The Scheming Cutie (3), The True Sibling Cutie (3)

Merlin – The Selfless Cutie(3), The Adorable Cutie(3)

<_><_><_>

The episode starts with Nimueh summoning her little afanc beast in an egg with a ton of her own marks on it just so everyone knows who did it. Not very smart. It ends with Gaius reiterating the same “you’re an idiot” thing to Merlin, when the real idiot is in fact Morgana, who didn’t hear that Merlin nearly shouted a whole spell in a compact cave with echo. Camelot is the home of the once and future dumbasses.

<_><_><_>

The Magic

The Monsters

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louu-7 · 4 years

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everything i don’t know

on wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/222647460-everything-i-don%27t-know-jj-maybank

CHAPTER 10:

My sight become distinct again and I throw myself on the ground to puke my guts out as my body shiver and get colder. I stay in this position for a while, in the dark, in front of a bush, and disgusted by all the remarks I received in less than a minute.

A hand is suddenly touching my shoulder, making me jump of surprise as I look up. The hand’s removing from my arm and my eyes are crossing his. What the…

“What do you want, spit in my face in person?”

“No, no I just wanted to see if, you were OK.” Kyle declares as he observes me, in this pathetic situation. “Yeah, look at me, I’m at my best, you can go back to the party I don’t need nobody, even less a kook who thinks I’m a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch, I always saw you as a smart girl, kinda chill.”

He sits next to me, while I’m on my knees, as ridiculous as possible. My father’s maybe right, I’m kinda stupid right now. “Don’t stay with me, I’m good.”

“And if I don’t wanna go?”

“I’ll go by myself to be alone.”

“And I’ll follow you.”

I sigh a little and spin around to sit more properly, and look at him. His eyes are diving into mine and I frown and look away. Oh, shit. That’s him. He’s got a crush on me. And I forgot about it. It’s Kyle, and my brain didn’t do the comparison...

I purse my lips as he continues to let his eyes wander over me, with shamelessness and tirelessly. Oh God can someone save me right now…

“I think I’m gonna go.” I stand back up and my stomach starts to hurt again, even more than a bit earlier… I wince and my body makes me understand I can’t walk for now. But I can’t stay with him either. “Please go, we can talk later if you want but leave me alone.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, hurry, please, I needa be on my own.”

I fall on my knees again and he leaves, a sigh is coming out of my mouth and I can take things easy as long as I’m on my own. All the words are repeating on my mind without any break, and tears can’t stop running on my cheeks at this point, because it hurts me.

Maybe I’m looking like I’m strong in front of people but I’m not, I’m human, and I think everybody would be affected by all these remarks that I received from hundreds of people, without help, because the crew was certainly as disconcerted as me.

My stomach is hurting because of stress, and a sentence is in repeat in my head even more than the others. ‘Why aren’t you killing yourself’. At least I know how kooks can be nasty when they’re angry. Maybe that I already knew that about them before, but I’ve never been confronted with so much hate and senseless rumors.

It all started with the things I ‘said’ about the pogues, things I never said in my whole life. Now it’s about things I ‘said’ about kooks. The question I need an answer of is… who hates me that much to make everyone spitting at my face this way? I didn’t think I had enemies, but they should talk to me rather than spread rumors about what I say or no…

“Hey, I was looking for you babe, how are you…?” I look up at Sarah and manage to faint a smile at her, a little deformed, by the pain in my stomach, and the voices shouting out in my head. My eyes are burning so bad… “Good.”

“Thara don’t be too affected by all these fucking rich assholes, c’mere babe.”

“I’m not affected I just don’t understand why they…” My voice crack and I look away to hold back the tears in my eyes, and she sits next to me to hug me, with so much kindness, that my heart melts in my chest. “I’m fine, let’s go back with the others.”

“Girl you’re crying your heart out, we’re not coming back with them, they’re gonna come here, we’ll be better without all these-”

“No, that’s OK. Let’s go, I didn’t came here to stay out of the party.”

I stand and my body hurts, but it’ll pass. The pain is in my head, so if I stop thinking about these free insults that I gently received, everything will be alright. Sarah wraps her arm behind my back and we catch up with the boys.

“Good?”

“Yeah, they’re just jealous of me, nothing serious.” I laugh a little and sit next to Kie, who’s laughing with me. “I guess you never said that?” I shiver when I cross JJ’s blue eyes as his deep voice resonate in my head.

He made everyone shutting up, I owe him something, because even if we don’t like each other, he ‘came to my defense’ in a kind of way, and I appreciate that.

“No. I’m a kook myself, why would I say that on them? Bearing in mind that if I said all these shits, I would’ve spit in the girls faces. I’m not the bitch everyone’s seeing in me right now.”

“Of course you’re not. We may not know each other that much but I know you enough to see a chill girl who wanna have fun.” Pope’s raising his shoulders, looking at me, then at the crew.

I smile and look down, embarrassed to know what he really thinks about me. I’m not used to these kind of ‘compliments’. “Thara’s the better best friend, of course she’s a chill girl who wanna ave fun.” Sarah leans on me and laugh as I do the same, hugging her. “Let’s talk ‘bout something else, I don’t like to talk ‘bout me.”

The discussion restarts on the same topic as before Nate’s intervention, and I share us my plan. It’s not really a plan, it’s more… something I can do to look deeper in that shit. While we’re here in circle, some kooks are enjoying to slight me or tell me off, but I manage to ignore them. They’re all sheep who are following Nate.

Anyway, I explain that I need to go downtown, to look into the old document of my family. I know that everyone of the richer kooks family are listed at the library, and it’s of course confidential. This is the first thing that came in my mind to start to find something.

“Go to hell!”

“Why were you born, fucking slut.

“Stay home if you don’t wanna have issue. You’ll finish dead if you don’t.”

I don’t even make the effort to look at their assholes faces and show them my middle finger as I break out in a cold sweat. A quiet sigh is coming out of my mouth discreetly and we continue to talk.

“Are they really gonna try to kill you?”

“No, they’re not brave enough to do anything. Now can we stop talking about ‘em and go on with our main topic?”

“These men are sayin’ they’re gonna kill you.”

“Nah, I’m OK with Thara, these kids are wasting their breath, they won’t have the balls to do anything.” John B agrees and JJ’s nodding his head to agree at his turn. “Be careful anyway, we never know.” Kie smiles gently at me and I do the same as I nod.

All these kooks are talking, because it’s easy to spit on somebody’s face, but when it comes to act, nobody’s here.

The kegger is done, it’s 4pm right now, we talked a lot on what could we do. After a long search, we decided that to begin our researches, we had to build some solid bases if we want something that’s holding up. So, tomorrow I will be going downtown, to the library, to make some serious research about my family, because if we start, it’s probably best to start with the beginning.

The thing is, they all insist that someone needs to come with me, because of all the threats I received tonight. I wasn’t against the idea, until John B and Sarah told me that they had lunch with the Cameron’s, and Pope and Kie apologized because they had to work with their parents.

What does that means? That JJ is supposed to come with me. We’re both not OK with this decision, and I don’t think he will be there tomorrow to take the ferry in the morning, around 10am. To be honest they make us agreed, but when we looked at each other it was obvious that we weren’t that fine with the idea.

It’s better for everyone if I go by myself anyway, at least if they don’t want to get one of us dead… I can’t even imagine passing the whole day with him. And they will never going to let us come into the library if he dresses up as usual… God it’s gonna be a mess, and passing around nine hours with him is not going to be an easy job.

It’s not my fault if he’s bad-tempered. Maybe he thinks the same about me. Maybe he thinks more something like ‘How am I gonna pass a whole day with this kook who’s getting emotional at every minute of her life.’ Yeah, maybe more that… But I don’t know, it might be the best day of my life, we will see tomorrow...

I get up out of my bed, in pajamas, for a change, and go downstairs to get some food. Why am I such a food lover… and after I’m complaining about gaining weight… Anyway I grab a cereal bar in the cupboard when I hear someone coming into the kitchen.

“Did I woke you up?”

“No, don’t worry darling.” My mother smiles a little at me and I do the same. “Was the party as good as you thought?”

“Yeah, yeah it was… intense. Nothing crazy, but I’m dead. Oh and, I was wondering if I could go downtown tomorrow?”

“It depends for what, do you need something? I maybe can get you what you want.” Her eyes stare at me, like she was trying to guess why by herself. Like she knew that I would lie to her...

“It’s to go to the library, I need new books to read, and I have some researches to do, about philosophy works, it’s so interesting I need to know more. I open my snack and she seems to think about my request. “I think you can go, only if you promise me you’re not going over there to see anyone. You go downtown to study, not to have fun with pogues.” A bit of disgust is present in her voice when she pronounces the pogue word. Ridiculous...

“Mom I only saw them once, and it was on a birthday. I can swear to you I never saw them since this day, and I won’t do it again. The thing is Sarah’s not one of them, she’s a kook, like us… and she’s my best friend...”

“I know, you understood that your image is important. I will talk about the Sarah case with your father tomorrow and we will tell you if you can see her. Now go to sleep sweetheart.”

“Yeah, thank you mommy, I love you. Sweet dreams.” She comes to me and kiss my forehead before I live the first floor for my room. I finish my cereal bar, happy that they are going to think about Sarah. Maybe they also understood I need interaction with people, not just them.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face I dive in my fresh sheets and fall asleep in less than a second because of the fatigue I got inside of me.

I’m in front of the ferry, everyone’s getting in but I’m waiting for my bodyguard of the day to show up. The boat’s going to leave in two minutes, and JJ didn’t even let me know if he was coming or no, and I’m here, waiting for someone that I don’t really hold close to my heart…

“Miss, the ferry’s gonna leave in a minute.” An inspector walks to me and I wince. “I’m waiting for someone, just a second please…” What is he doing…

I suddenly frown when I see a blond head running towards me as fast as possible. When I recognize JJ’s face, I’m surprised just as peeved. “There he is…” I whisper, kind of amused and embarrassed at the same time.

He arrives in front of me, out of breath, and looks at the inspector. “Mister, have a good day, I think we gotta go.” He walks vigorously to the ferry and I stop him by saying his name, already tired of him. “We maybe have to give our tickets…”

“Tickets, noo.” I don’t think he understood the man next to me is an inspector until he puts his eyes on him and see his outraged face. The blond comes back next to me and wince before whispering ‘i kinda forget this little detail’. “By good luck” I look in my bag. “I got two tickets.” I grab them and warmly smile to the inspector.

“Thank you, have a good trip lovebirds.”

“Ugh, we’re not, hum, yeah but thanks, have a great day…” We move away toward the ferry and I wince as JJ seems to be shocked. “How could you forgot about a ticket like, did you really thought we would be able to get in without anything?”

“I was late, ticket wasn’t my priority. What is wrong with this man, how could I be with you-” I raise my eyebrows and look at him, who’s also looking at me, as we get in the boat and walk through the corridor to take place on our seats. “Shut up. Let’s go outside.”

JJ follows me with a crooked smile on his face, and we arrive outside. The weather is perfect, the sun shines and reflects on the clear water of the sea. The waves are kind this morning and the wind is not to powerful. Perfect to have a trip in ferry. “Do you know that we’re not gonna be allowed to come in the library if we get inside like this.”

“Like how?” He looks at me, his arms leaning on the security barrier. “Your clothes… I mean, the problem isn’t your style, but the first impression is important and if you’re not dressed properly, the security isn’t gonna let us come in.”

“So what, I have to dress like a kook to come into a library?”

“Kinda…”

“What the… I don’t wanna look like a… twerp in a penguin suit.” He winces and a bittersweet smile’s drawing out on my face. “Do I look like a twerp in a penguin suit?” I laugh and he steps back to look at me, pulling a face in disgust.

I show him my beautiful middle finger and look back at the sea to ignore him. I feel like this day is going to be long, but, to be honest he seems to have got out of the right side of the bed. A pretty good thing if we have to stay together from now until tonight.

“Gonna be the worst day of my life…”

“Shut up, I paid your ticket.”

thank u for reading me, have a great day!! ^^

#outerbanks #pogue #kook #pogue life #jj maybank #johnb #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #secret #mystery #gold

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mmacabrera · 5 years

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Opportunities we had lost || part 1

chapter 1: all those golden opportunities

summary: She was Goldie O’Gilt, she didn’t wait for opportunities anymore. She made them if it was necessary and she took them without letting go of even one bit. She could have this, if she didn’t have this when she was younger, maybe she could have this now. Goldie O’Gilt took what she wanted, this woman was no exception.

character/ships: m’ma cabrera/goldie o’gilt. only mentioned: scrooge mcduck/goldie o’gilt

word count: 4192

n/a: Reincarnation!AU, resolved unresolved sexual/romantic tension, making out, bamf adult ladies, made up backstories, some guns but they’re never used, visit my tumblr for the masterpost page of this fic

When Goldie was younger, thirteen years old at best, she met a foreign girl two years older than her that was part of a Spanish family that was looking for commercial anglings in Dawson. Goldie didn’t think too much about her at the start, except that she looked too serious to be so young and that even when she was incredibly beautiful, the air of calm and stubbornness surrounding her was her most attracting feature. Or at least, that was what she heard from the clients of the Blackjack.

In a place as boring as Dawson, the family converted themselves into the town’s new attraction in no time.

Funnily enough, three days after that, a scandal spread through town about them being “completely crazy” and “Spain probably is weird with people like that”. Goldie laughed hard when she finally heard the rumor, a teenager hitting a grown ass man with enough force to break his jaw because he touched her. Yeah, right, that couldn’t be true. And her parents didn’t scold her but encouraged her and not only that but they screamed at the man too? It sounded like a well made-up story to tell to naïve little girls about the power of love or some shit.

Until she saw Mr. McReed, a man known for his extreme horrible behavior towards young ladies who always got away with it, with his jaw broken and turning around scared every time a young woman passed by his side, it was then that Goldie knew she needed to meet this duck.

The opportunity came when the Flores Silva (someone kept talking about them in the saloon and spilled their family name) gave a visit to the Blackjack. Everybody whispered, everybody had something to say about them but the Flores Silva were oblivious or just didn’t give a fuck at all because they kept walking to the counter like nothing was going on around them. When they got to the counter, the adults demanded to talk to the owners for a business meeting. Their daughter seemed disinterested and kept looking around the saloon.

Goldie was working as hard as ever, always looking for the opportunity to approach the family when a man touched her waist weirdly. She let it past because it could have been an accident. Until the touch repeated and Goldie felt paralyzed.

The girls of the saloon told her it was normal, that men had the right to have whatever they wanted out of women because they were the ones that did all the hard work out there, they deserved it. It was the way of life.

Goldie didn’t like the so-called ‘way of life’ too much. But she couldn’t complain, because it would mean losing a client and making a fuss that maybe would make them lose even more clients, she couldn’t do that to her parents. They needed the money.

The man touched her again, this time she couldn’t suppress the indignant squeal that escaped her beak because he actually went directly to pull her tail, the man only laughed at her with his buddies. Goldie gripped her tray tighter, suppressing the need to scream in his face. She wouldn’t say something, it would cause trouble for her parents. She couldn’t-.

“I do not think the girl really likes what you are doing, maldito asqueroso. Let her go now, she is just a kid, are you stupid or just blind?”

Those words sounded ridiculously loud around the saloon even if she actually said then in a normal tone, but everybody was silent and the man that kept pestering her looked at the girl with the face of someone that didn’t know what ‘no’ meant. He stood up, towering the other girl easily with his muscles and height. Goldie held her breath along with the other clients of the Blackjack. Everybody waited for the explosion that supposedly should come with this foreign girl.

But she said nothing more than that, waiting for the man to talk.

“You think you can just say that to me, girl?”

“Let the kid go. Don’t make me lose my patience, man.”

Goldie indulged herself and took a good look at the girl while she was arguing with the bigger duck. She was, in fact, beautiful. A light brown duck with wavy darker brown hair that was long enough to get to her waist, she was slightly taller than Goldie, maybe one or two inches. She used some big jewelry too with a red dress that molded to her waist. It suited her, she thought. She was really attractive.

Then all hell broke loose. The man let go of Goldie and instead tried to grab the Spanish girl. She reacted fast, punching him in the gut with enough force to make him almost fell down before he could get to touch her. Screams were heard around the place but honestly, Goldie was mesmerized, she had never seen a woman fighting. The man, even more enraged now, sent a punch to the girl but she evaded it gracefully, the punch ended landing in an old owl that was just taking a beer, he got up and punched the duck on the face. His buddies got up to defend him.

Goldie, living in a saloon all her life, knew that this wasn’t going to end soon nor in a good way.

Goldie needed to act fast. Goldie took her hand and ran like a crazy into one of the dressers of the dancers and when she thought they were safe, she let her go and sighed. There were screams and the sound of things breaking outside the door.

“I guess that doesn’t happen in the country you came from.” She tried to make conversation.

The girl laughed. “Pfft, nada que ver. In Spain esa mierda happens too all the time. I really hate it. So I will never shut up about it until people understand that they can’t just accept that. Thanks for getting me out of there.”

Goldie put a wild strain in order, nervous out of nowhere. “Thanks for defending me.”

“What’s your name, anyway?”

“Golden O’Gilt. I’m the owners’ daughter, but everybody just calls me Goldie around here.”

“It’s a pleasure, Goldie. I’m Victoria del Valle Flores Silva, my parents call me Toya.”

“Toya?” It sounded weird in her tongue. Why would someone be called Toy-ia? Where did it come from? From Victoria? How?

“No, no. Oh por Dios, no.” Victoria laughed, snorting even. “To-Ya.” Goldie tried again but she didn’t seem to get it right. “Better drop it, just call me Victoria, it’s probably easier and my parents are the only ones that call me Toya anyways.”

Goldie felt curious. “How did you did that? I mean, fighting. I have never seen a woman fight like you before, I mean, except for slaps and pulling hair. You fought like a man out there.”

“I fought as people should fight, that was everything. Papá teach me how. I could show you, it’s not that hard.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, punch those nasty men into oblivion. Let the lady lead. Work for yourself!”

Goldie laughed immediately and when it subsided, she smiled at her. Victoria corresponded, and from then on, they decided they liked each other enough to keep a friendship.

It was a good one.

But one day, the irrepressible desire to kiss Victoria came to Goldie like an avalanche after hanging out with her around town. Funnily enough, it came with the most simple of things, Victoria was just smiling with her lips glossed over for some berries juice they just ate, and her lips looked kissable. Goldie definitely wanted to do that. She didn’t do it at the moment but if she learned something from Victoria was that women could do as much as men in desires and wishes.

Goldie would just wait for her opportunity to do her wish.

They encountered themselves alone a lot of times after that, but it never seemed to be the correct moment for Goldie anyways, so she kept waiting. She kept waiting even when Victoria gave her flowers or when she kissed her cheek or when she held her hand around the town for all the world to see. Even when Victoria’s eyes flew to Goldie’s lips sometimes.

Goldie waited for her opportunity until the day of the deadline arrived.

Victoria needed to go back to Spain. Goldie felt like crying that day.

Goldie promised that she wouldn’t let anyone step down on her. That if men could have whatever they wanted, so could she. And that she would find a way to see her again. Victoria just smiled, she seemed to be amused by her naivety, but accepted anyways and kissed her cheek again before going to the cart and not coming back ever again.

Sadly enough, the last promise, she couldn’t keep it in time.

She fell in love again with another person anyway so it didn’t matter, Goldie thought with slightly less remorse that she should feel, she guessed. The image of a Scottish duck with proudness in his smile and hardworking hands touching her hips passing through her mind.

But the desire, her wish for Victoria, remained.

Goldie thought reincarnation was overrated.

“You have the right to remain silent…”

Goldie even thought it was bullshit.

“…Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

She had lived for a long time and not once she had met a person that resembled her past.

“…You have the right to an attorney…”

Her parents? Dead. Her friends? Dead. Her employees in Blackjack? Very, Very Dead.

“…If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you…”

The only person in her past that remained the same was Scrooge and that was because he wasn’t, you know, dead. That was not the case anymore, apparently.

“Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

“Victoria?” The name escaped her beak before she could think about it. The woman behind her putting the cuffs raised a brow and looked at her with a confused expression. This was not Victoria, this woman couldn’t be Victoria.

Her eyes were the same. Her hair was the same even if it was shorter. Her feathers were the same. Her posture was too. But this woman could not beVictoria.

Victoria was dead too.

“Find a good synonym for that and maybe you will hit the nail, ma’am. For now, you’re arrested.”

“Don’t make it harder than it needs to be, Miss…”

“Goldie O’Gilt.”

“Ms. O’Gilt. I’m going to ask again. What were your intentions in that casino with Mr. McQueen?”

“Well, now that’s embarrassing, one doesn’t go asking about people’s personal lives.”

“Ma’am, you drugged him.”

“Oh, I did? Now, that’s what you said. Maybe we were having a complicate foreplay and you’re just meddling.”

The woman sighed, she looked like she was just going to hit her head against the wall. Goldie wanted to laugh, but she needed to concentrate on getting out of these handcuffs first. Thanks to however invented hairclips. “Don’t make me lose my patience.”

“You never were really patient, anyways.”

“You keep talking like you know me and it’s freaking me out. Just stop.”

“Look, Victoria-.”

“I’m not Victoria, I don’t know who is that person but I can assure you that you’re confused, ma’am. Please, just answer the questions already.”

Goldie shrugged. Ok, maybe there was the tiny little possibility that this woman wasn’t really Victoria, even when she was identical. Or maybe she lost her memories about who she really was or was just fucking with her or changed her name or just downright forgot about Goldie. That last possibility left her heart aching.

Or maybe she was her reincarnation.

No, reincarnation was bullshit.

The officer sighed again and looked at her, and for a millisecond Goldie saw it. A spark of something that equal women and men and people, in general, looked in her at some point.

Attraction. Oh, yes, she could work with that.

The officer sat down, giving her just a look of her profile, an elbow leaning on the table and her hand massaging her temple. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes with dark circles closed and she looked terribly tired. Likely caused by a long day at work and probably because Goldie was not cooperating at all. All that translated to Goldie in a weaker state, she could hit that.

“You seem stressed, officer.”

“It’s hard not to be while working with such a difficult person, Ms. O’Gilt.”

“Maybe I could help with that.”

The woman seemed to react a little but laughed. “If I wanted that type of help, I would get it in a person that didn’t have the habit of drugging men to rob them or whatever the hell you were going to do with him. Thanks but no thanks.”

Great, an officer with good ethics at work. Exactly what she didn’t need.

“Please, stop going around in circles, Ms. O’Gilt. Tell me why you did it, it can’t get worse than you drugging a man in a casino.”

Goldie rolled her eyes. She decided to give her something at least before escaping in another way. “I just needed some money. Men can be idiots sometimes, a cute look and they think they have you at their mercy. Especially men that like casinos, beer, and prostitutes. I’m used to those.”

“Well, not gonna fight that logic. And now we’re getting somewhere. For what did you need the money, Ms. O’Gilt?” Now, she faced her, both elbows on the table, hands joined and leaning at her. The officer was regaining confidence. Goldie heard a little click from behind her and smiled to herself. It was such a tragedy that Goldie needed to take that confidence away.

“Oh, sorry, about that I can’t tell you. I really need to go now.”

“What?”

Goldie got up and jumped to the table to attack her, a hard clang from the handcuffs hitting the ground resound around the interrogation room. The officer reacted fast, getting up from the chair in record time and pulling her gun out, but Goldie kicked the gun out of her grasp and took it. The woman went immediately to grab something in her back but Goldie pointed the gun at her head.

“Don’t.” She stopped immediately, visible gulped and sweated, looking at Goldie in a conflicting way. A hand in her back and an angry stare. “We both know it’s going to get ugly if you get that second gun out, officer.”

“Maldición…”

Goldie laughed. “What, you thought that because I let my guard down back there when you catch me in the casino that I wasn’t a fighter?” The officer tsked, too aware of the gun pointing at her. “Empty your pockets and pass me that other gun too, officer. When you are done, put your hands where I can see them. You know, up, up.”

The woman grumbled but did as she was told. She threw on the ground her gun, her badge, two sets of keys, probably one from her house and the other for the interrogation room, and her wallet. Then put her hands up. She looked even madder.

Goldie took the wallet and started inspecting it. Her I.D. said “Gloria Cabrera” born in 19–, so this wasn’t Victoria. Maybe, it was just a duck that looked like her (or her reincarnation, a traitorous voice sang in the back of her mind). Goldie didn’t give up. She found a photo while looking for other things that maybe could mean that this was Victoria after all. She got it out, she thought maybe it was something that could prove her point.

Oh, how wrong she was.

“Is this your son?” Goldie felt incredulous. Victoria didn´t want children. Nothing of this made any sense (no, it did, because she was not Victoria).

“Yes, he is…the love of my life.” Her voice sounded so soft out of nowhere, all her “bad police” persona left her in a moment. She looked completely different in less than a second. A doting mother who loved her son and was scared of leaving him alone. “He is probably waiting for his mamá to come home. Please, don’t do this. I want to see my baby.”

Goldie knew what she was doing. Manipulation. Oh, how much she hated that it was actually working. She wasn’t lying, she could hear the adoration and love pouring from her words but she wasn’t saying those things out of the good of her heart. She was saying it so the criminal would feel sorry for her and let her go. It wasn’t like she was really going to shoot her but now she almost felt bad about this, for making her believe that she was going to do it for real. Fuck the police, honestly. Fuck this officer in specific.

Well, now that wasn’t a bad idea.

Goldie left the photo on the table and started to walk towards the woman. She looked defeated. No, that wasn’t true. She looked accepting, she didn’t move, she didn’t break eye contact either. The strong police officer she met earlier came back full force. She stood her ground even when her hands seemed to tremble slightly from the effort of leaving them up. If she was going to die, she would die prideful, her posture seemed to say. Goldie stopped walking when the gun touched the officer’s chest. She closed her eyes for a second but opened them rapidly, still looking at her, still waiting for Goldie to make her move.

Goldie knew what she wanted to do, but for the second time in her life, she felt kind of lost in the decision of doing it or not. She couldn’t have Victoria in her moment, a Victoria that looked and presented herself like this officer in front of her. Strong and stubborn, full of confidence but humble too, that loved so much that was kind of overbearing at times.

Maybe this was the opportunity her younger self had been waiting for.

And if it wasn’t, she didn’t give a damn.

She was Goldie O’Gilt, she didn’t wait for opportunities anymore. She made them if it was necessary and she took them without letting go of even one bit. She could have this, if she didn’t have it when she was younger, maybe she could have it now. Goldie O’Gilt took what she wanted, this woman was no exception.

Goldie dropped the gun and hold Gloria’s face into her hands and kissed her. The officer kept still without moving an inch, her eyes were wide open, surprised. Goldie decided to close her eyes and imagined Victoria with her glossed berry’s lips kissing her back.

She didn’t expect the officer to do it anyways.

“Maldita sea.” She heard a whisper mumbled into her beak and before she could process it, two hands gripped her hips and turned her into the wall, but where Goldie expected a fist fight, she found a body pressing her into the wall even harder and a beak kissing her like she was going to kiss her soul.

She hadn’t had a kiss like this since, well, the Klondike. A kiss that made her want friction, that made her hands look for support. A kiss that ate her inside out. She wanted to put her legs around her waist and sink her fingers into her shoulder blades. So, she did it. Gloria seemed to kiss her even harder when she did. Her hands moving from her hips to her waist but never outside of that range but Gloria obviously wanted to do more, she felt it when she would grip a little tighter when her hands seemed to go a little farther. Goldie wanted to tell her she could do more if she wanted.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss someone like me?” She said instead. Goldie felt completely breathless, her breathing labored and difficult. A younger Goldie was almost having a party in her mind.

“I’m having a really stressful day and you had been particularly annoying about it.” She sounded enraged, completely done with the situation. She knew a man that sounded like that sometimes with her. Maybe she had a type after all.

I need to go out of this city before he knows I’m here, now that I think about it. That’s why I needed the money.

“Who is going to know? Did you try to scam other men apart from the one in the hotel?” Uh, oh, she said that out loud.

“Aw, don’t be jealous, Victoria, sweetie.”

“Look, you keep calling me that and I keep telling you. That. Is. Not. My. Name.”

“What’s your name then?”

“Gloria Cabrera.”

“Gloria, huh?”

She already knew it, but it was still amusing to know that this was not, in fact, Victoria. She was definitely dead. She didn’t change her name nor did she lost her memories. What a thing was this reincarnation business.

“Victoria-.”

“I just told you-!”

“I will see you around.”

“Wh-?”

Goldie kissed her again, a hand on Gloria’s neck pulling her into the kiss.

For Gloria, everything faded to black in an instant.

“Cabrera! Gloria, please, wake up!”

Gloria started to blink, the light of the ceiling hurting her eyes a little. “¿Que coño…?”

“Oh, she waked up.”

Her partner was looking at her relieved. Gloria sat up, her head hurt. Her hand went to her neck, the last place where she felt something before she blacked out. “What the hell happened?”

“Well, we would like to ask you that, because when we entered the room you were completely unconscious on the floor, all your things were there too. What happened?”

“What happened to Goldie?” she asked instead, not prepared to think about what happened in the room. She got up, walking outside the room to the hallway to see the damage that Goldie left behind.

Her partner in front of her pointed at the end of the hallway with a funny smile, Gloria followed the direction. A “¿qué carajos?” trespassed her lips when she saw one of the windows completely broken, someone had jumped out probably.

“How the fuck she did that?”

“No idea. When we went to see how the interrogation was going, the window was already broken and you were on the floor. But, seriously, what happened?”

“Yes, Cabrera, What happened?”

That was her boss. He didn’t look happy at all, not even to see her well and conscious.

“Uh…” she couldn’t say, ‘we kind of made out in the interrogation room and then she took the opportunity to knock me the fuck out.’ Yeah, no, it sounded pretty lame and extremely unethical. So, she said almost everything but left out the part where she almost ravaged Goldie O’Gilt on the table of the interrogation room. She felt happy that in a way that was 90% of the truth.

Her boss didn’t look so happy. Mierda. “Do you at least have her name, Cabrera?”

“Goldie O’Gilt, sir. That’s the name.”

Her boss paled. Well, that was an interesting reaction. “You did a good job, Cabrera. She could have done worse.”

“Wait, boss, what do you mean?”

“Goldie O’Gilt is a force to be reckoned with. I’m actually surprised that this disaster is the only thing she left behind. Look, kids, she is at least 140 years old, do you understand what I’m saying? 140 years of knowledge, that woman is impossible to get.”

“What the fuck?”

“¡Imposible!”

“Nah, there are rumors that said that Scrooge McDuck is the same. But well, I need to go to do some paperwork for that fucking window and for the “Glittering Goldie” archive. You did well, Cabrera. I’m glad you’re alive.” And he left just like that.

I’m glad you’re alive, that sounded horribly ominous.

“140 years old, can you believe that?”

“Yeah, sounds surreal.”

Well, yes, it sounded pretty fucking surreal that she made out with a woman that didn’t look older than 40 years but was at least 140 years old. At least, she repeated in her mind, trying to comprehend it. Maybe that was why she was such a good kisser. She decided she was going to go home at that moment and her partner just accepted it, telling her he would do the paperwork left. She thanked him with all her might, making her partner laugh at her.

She was so extremely tired.

The only thing she wanted to do now was to go home, cuddle with his son while watching Patito Feo and make some tea for the first time in her entire life.

She entered the interrogation room and took her things. She put her badge on, took both her guns, her house’s keys. Her wallet was intact, Goldie even put the photo of Fenton back.

She did leave a disaster behind her, she thought. Freaking woman.

Damn, she definitely needed a nap too after all this.

I just remembered I didn’t upload this fanfic to Tumblr (i actually have a lot of fanfics that I want to upload to tumblr lmao, im just lazy) so, now that i actually have the second and third part almost ready of this au i decided to do it now. Hope you like it! please reblog and comment smthing if you did (in the tags or in the notes whatever im not picky lol) HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #cabroldie #m'ma cabrera #goldie o'gilt #toddy was here #toddy writes #reincarnation au

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smilexcaptainx · 6 years

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Faking It (Part One)

Summary: In which the most popular girl in school is dared to date the nerdiest boy in school, Peter Parker. She then creates a ‘’friendship’’ with him, knowing she would leave him right after the dare. Peter asks her to homecoming and she accepts to go with him. But when her friends seem to plan to pull a prank on Peter, will she be able to save him from a night of embarrassment?

Part One : The Dare

A/N: Welcome to my Peter Parker Mini-series. I’m going to try my best to keep each part under 1K words 😂 and if I don’t, don’t be mad lol. I don’t know how many parts this series will be, but I hope you lovelies enjoy it ♥ | i do not own this gif, credit goes to the rightful owner(:

Warning(s): Fluff

Word Count: 1,030

Ask me if you want to be tagged in future posts

Popularity. It was something that everybody craved and something that you possessed. Nasty glares from girls would always be thrown at you in the hallways because they were either jealous of you, or they just hated you because you were popular. People expected so much from you since you were the most ‘’popular’’ girl in school. They expected you to hang out with the best of the best, the cutest of the cutest, nobody else.

If they were a nerd, they wanted you to avoid them. If they weren’t attractive to your friend group, they wanted you to avoid them. It was tough, because you wanted people to like you. You wanted to hang out with those who seemed lonely, you didn’t want to make fun of them. But the only way to keep your popularity status was to follow the rules that the cooler people had in mind.

The cafeteria was rowdy as usual, people yelling at each other from across the room. Others swallowing each other up in the corners of the room, causing people to feel uncomfortable. You were currently sitting across the table from your ‘’boyfriend’’. His name was Austin and he was a complete brute. Football quarterback, everyone’s dream boy, but unfortunately, he was the boy that was rumored to be your boyfriend.

Austin thought he was the coolest guy in the entire school, but in reality, he’s just a cocky arrogant person that you never would want to communicate with in the first place. But once again, you wanted to keep your popularity so you stayed with Austin, no matter how much of a jackass he was.

‘‘So you know that nerdy boy who I was talking about yesterday?’‘ austin spoke, dipping his french fries into his pile of ketchup. ‘‘well, today we gave our presentations and his partner didn’t show up so he had to do it alone,’‘ he continued, bringing the fry up to his mouth. ‘‘and when he started to speak, I shouted out ‘Loser!’ and the whole class went crazy with laughter!!’‘

Austin laughed so hard, little chunks of french fry flew right out of his mouth onto the table. His hand was slamming on the table repeatedly as if he was choking on something and asking for someone to save him. He thought that the joke was absolutely hilarious, but to you, it was nothing but just plain crudeness.

‘‘How funny.’‘ you respond, sarcasm obviously being heard in your voice.

'’Oh come on (Y/N). It was funny, you should’ve been there.’‘ said the blonde jock.

‘‘I’m glad I wasn’t.’‘ you respond, some attitude kicking in.

‘‘Wow, cranky much?’‘ he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

‘‘Only around you babe.’‘ you respond cheekily.

Austin rolled his green-hazel eyes and gripped his soda can, gulping it down in annoyance. Once he couldn’t take the carbonation, he slammed the soda can on the table, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You stared at Austin as he had his eyes glued on somebody.

‘‘It’s the nerd.’‘ austin whispered, his eye narrowing. ‘‘He’s sitting down with that fat loser over there.’‘

You turn your entire body around and looked the way Austin was looking and saw a brown-haired boy sit down beside another boy. You tilted your head as you continued to stare at the brown-haired boy. It finally clicked and you realized that he sat by you in Chemistry class, that’s where you recognized him.

‘‘Hey! Girlfriend!’‘ austin shouted, snapping his fingers to catch your attention. ‘‘Stop making goo goo eyes at the nerd over there.’‘ he demanded, making you turn all the way back around.

You wanted to smack some sense into Austin, but before you could make any movements, someone called your name and you turned around. Liz and her friends were making their way up to you, grinning at you playfully.

‘‘Oh, hey Liz.’‘ you greet kindly, turning your attention to her. ‘‘What’s up?’‘

‘’So, I’ve been hearing some things around the school that you would do any dare that people give to you. Is that true?’’ she asks, a small grin spreading across her lips.

You give Austin a quick glance than look back at Liz, responding with a light nod.

'’Well, me and my girls made up a dare for you,’‘ she said, rather excited to tell you the dare. ‘‘we dared you to date the most nerdiest boy in school.’‘ she said, trying to contain herself from laughter.

‘‘And who do you think that would be?’‘ you ask.

‘‘Peter Parker.’‘ a girl in her group blurted out, twirling her hair absentmindedly.

‘‘Who’s Peter Parker?’’

‘‘That boy over there.’‘ the other girl replied, throwing her thumb over her shoulder.

You shifted your eyes to where she pointing and saw that it was the boy who was in your Chemistry class. You watched as he talked with his friend beside him, a smile appearing on his face. You thought he was actually kind of cute, so you decided to just take the dare.

‘‘I’ll take it.’‘ you say, smiling up at the group of girls. ‘‘It won’t be too hard anyways. He seems nice.’’

‘‘Whatevs. But what we thought would be hilarious was if you created a friendship with Peter and only kept it for a week. And than after that week, you’ll just ignore him and pretend like you two were never friends in the first place. Your dare isn’t to just date him. But it’s to break his heart afterwards, will you be able to do it?’‘ liz asks, a smile plastered on her face and same with the girls with her.

'’Yeah. No problem at all. I’ve broken hearts before.’’ you respond, shrugging with ease. ‘’But, what’s in it for me? What will I get for this?’’

'’The rumors about you and Austin will be over.’‘ liz replied.

You didn’t even look back at Austin and ask for his word on it. Instead, you shot out your hand and gave her a bright white smile.

‘‘Deal.’‘

><><><><><

part 2

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semicolonthefifth · 4 years

Text

CROSS Ch6 - Call On Me (& I’ll Be There)

“You’ve had yourself a good rest there, Mr. Cross?” The Mayor asks, moving a bit to the side to allow Jason out from the doorway.

Jason tiredly replied, chuckling a bit, “Yeah. Had a good rest, I guess.”

“Wonderful!” The mayor laughed, “See, I was right to leave you under Ms. Collier’s expert hands. One of the best people we’ve had the privilege of living here, and a helpful hand in just about every circumstance. That woman is a miracle worker - a great addition to our lovely town! Oh, and what a town it is, Mr. Cross!”

He waves his hands, in such an exaggerated way that it was like a show performance. Rasmussen, with a confident smile and a pump of his hands, stepped back as he continued on, “Now I know you’ve had an unfortunate impression, but let me assure you that you’re under some good care. Few ever get a chance to be tagged along by yours truly, so consider yourself lucky! I know every good man and woman that lives in this here great town, and I’ve been with Blondie ever since it’s creation - and I’ve long held the title of mayor, because I’ve done and made it so great! So let me tell you, Mr. Cross, that despite what misfortune you’ve had, you’ll be coming into a much brighter, and greater place that’ll - guaranteed - see to that your needs are tended to. Now don’t that sound like a great deal?”

“The best deal I’ve ever had.” Lies Jason, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Excellent!” The mayor excitedly replies, “Then how about a quick tour? Shall we?”

With that the mayor starts proudly marching out.

Jason Cross follows along out of Ms. Collier’s home and onto the open dirt road that crosses through Blondie. Upon exiting, he discovered that the building he was leaving was a two storey tall hotel made of wood and metal sheets, with Collier’s home being at the very end of a long row. He gazed up, not only seeing a porch where several townsfolk stood, but also the Aurora sun shining down on him. Jason turned back to the surface, and gazed out to the rest of Blondie. There in the late morning, Jason could see the town much livelier than last night. He looked around the area - taking in the sights and personality of this Aurora town.

Blondie’s people had a certain fashion to them. Many of the men wore old minder’s jumpsuits, either cut, tucked, or modified to their own personal style. Sometimes he could see someone having shorter cut sleeves, or with top zipped down to let their skin breath more. Some of them had additions such as belts vests, desert coats or reinforced work pants. The women were much similar, with few sporting around a dress. There were some girls that wore a head-scarf or a hat to keep themselves covered from the sun, and others had on a poncho made from the same cloth material as the jumpsuits. For a lot of them though, there was that western aesthetic creeping into their attire, something that dug into Jason a certain way. He watched them all, either going about their own business or making some leave out from the town for an errand.

The town of Blondie itself was laid out like a T, with stamped down road cutting through two lines of buildings of varying heights, and the Saloon at the very end accompanied by two other structures. At the other end of the town was the storage-house, keeping safe all the food for the town behind 4 stone walls and a set of locked doors. Towards the West was a single guard tower, aimed right where the Black Road was, and was high enough to overlook the whole town and then some. Surrounding the town were various tents and small wooden houses - providing homes to those who can’t fit in the hotel. Of the buildings that lined the road, Jason could spot a good variety of shops and services.

As he scanned the town, Jason was then brought out of his thoughts by a loud smack on his shoulder, followed by the much louder talks of the mayor. Rasmussen grinned from ear to ear, and his glasses reflected a harsh light at Jason as he spoke up towards the man,

“Ain’t a town like Blondie! It’s a grand celebration of a colorful time in Earth history. A damn beaut’, don’t you agree?”

Jason shrugged, trying his best to bury an annoyed grimace that was about to come out. “She sure is.” He plainly commented.

“Ab-sol-utely!” The mayor exclaimed with sheer pride in his voice, “She is my pride and joy, almost like a daughter of my own. Built her up many years back with the help of some mighty fine folk. We bought off several shipments of wood and stone from Moresatta - sunk in a lot of money and left ourselves damn near broke, but it was worth it when we worked the nearby mines. Made a fortune three times over what we spent, and that was in the first year alone!”

“I’m familiar with the history.” Jason states, continuing as he dryly adds, “Didn’t the mines go empty though?”

“Psh! They ain’t empty!” The Mayor shoots, doing his best to keep a grin as he starts walking - with Jason following suit. Rasmussen continues, with hands brought up to grip the folds of his coat in a showy fashion. His tone was like a snake-oil salesman making his deal, but that almost seemed unintended. “Despite those nasty rumors, Blondie ain’t out of the mining business just yet! We’ve taken some missteps, sure, but with difficulty comes a chance to learn. We’ve slowly transformed this town and made it something that if possible - though unlikely - can last beyond the mines. We’ve invested into trade, and into establishing ourselves as one of the key stopping points from here to the big city. Like a lot of the best towns on the Black Road, we can adapt to face all odds that this planet throws at us!”

“Take, for instance, our many shops!” He declares, waving towards the businesses that line the road. Jason takes a moment to look them over, seeing a decent variety - which Rasmussen is all too happy to point out. “We’ve got your much important trade shop for all your many needs! Everything and anything is brought here, so much so I’ve had to grant Mr. Creedy extra room in the back just to store it all!” He laughs, almost forced but Jason was unsure if the guy was putting on a show or was that convinced of his ‘material’. Jason glances at the shop, with dusty windows with various scavenged or bought items being showcased. He could almost see an elderly couple doing inventory inside. Then Rasmussen continues,

“That right there is the Church of the Old Faiths. Wonderful place it is, to be personally honest with ya. Rented out to some good folk preserving the scriptures, and they hold a weekly group study and mass for the town. I’ve been there twice in the time they’ve been part of Blondie, and each time I come out happy to have let them here!”

The church was just a regular wooden shop lot, but in place of advertisements were signs informing passerbys the schedule of weekly mass, prayer groups, and teachings. At the door was an engraving of the Earth, and orbiting around it were all sorts of symbols: crosses; crescent moons; stars of varying pointed ends; and other such strange figures Jason couldn’t understand. As he and the mayor walked by, Jason could see an old hooded man in white, brown and black cloth robe walk out - with a hat dangling a ridiculous amount of metallic trinkets hanging off the brim. Jason walked a bit faster upon seeing that.

“Finally, for this little tour!” Rasmussen states with the highest of glees. “Our very own butcher’s shop! I can tell you, Mr. Cross, that Blondie’s lizard meats are freshly cut and expertly served for the best taste you can get! So that when you and your friends come to Blondie, the first three things that’ll come to mind will be: mines, drinks, and meat! You’ll be sure to have a taste, right?”

Jason comments, smiling truthfully, “Already had sir, and I got to admit it was certainly a welcome treat”, which prompted a glorious ‘excellent’ from the mayor. Jason then gave a quick glance at the butcher’s shop as they continued walking up the road. At the moment the place was closed, with a sign on the door telling it so. Looking through the windows he could see a selection of wrapped meats, all showcased before any passerbys.

Eventually the two men stopped, just a short walk away from the Saloon where a small crowd is gathered. Jason could make out a sea of concern among all the faces there, with every man and woman talking amongst themselves - about the fight, the deaths, and the man who was there. Past the crowd he could see the bartender inside, sweeping away all the mess while he’s accompanied by Frankie and Charlie - who each give a glance at Jason, but are unable to meet him without going past all the townsfolk.

His attention is pulled away when Mayor Rasmussen lets out a sigh of frustration, “Ah dang it. I thought I told those folk to let it be. Didn’t mean to let you see this...”

Jason looks down at the Mayor, cocking his brow a bit as he talks plainly once more, “You thought we weren’t gonna talk about last night or something?”

“Nah, that ain’t it.” Rasmussen states, his excitement lost in place of some genuine concern, “Folks here ain’t had much experience with the uh… nastiness of the Black Road. Our wonderful town here has had the great fortune to be far enough aways from the banditry and violence spread out across the Road. I’ve seen to that and, might I add, have done a good job of it. Unfortunately that has left our people scared and confused of what to do in light of last night’s events.”

In a bit of honest sympathy, Jason says out calmly, “Sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean to bring any trouble here - really.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. Just a fact of life here.” Rasmussen replies, sighing greatly out of displeasure this time around. “Still, it’s a problem our town ain’t prepared to face. I’ve been trying to settle things down and calm everybody, but they’re all caught up and afraid of what’s going to happen. We got some folks saying they’ll be another attack, and that kinda talk gets in the way of the peace we got here.”

Jason is silent for a moment, thinking over the situation. He takes another peek at the crowd, feeling responsible for what he has brought to them. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel terrible about last night’s event before, but the sight of the people worrying about some bandits bothered him. Blondie was quiet - too quiet. Everyone here had gotten soft, and it didn’t seem like they were in the right attitude to deal with the more serious threats from the Road. To Jason though, this wasn’t a serious threat. A couple of gun-toting bandits? It’s not so different from what he’s faced before in his work. It would only be fair, for what these people did for him, to make sure they’re not threatened by this gang.

After some thinking, Jason says out to Rasmussen, “Tell ya what.”

Rasmussen looks up at Jason, as the young man continues.

“You guys did well enough to help me - I should do right on you all the same. I’ll handle your bandit problem.”

The Mayor’s lips curl and stretch into a grin, as he asks aloud, “You serious?”

“Serious as can be.”

Immediately, and with utter excitement, Rasmussen pumps his fists and starts to dance, all while he bellows out a tremendous, high pitched, “YEEEE-HAW! Now that right there is what I’m talkin’ about! YEEEAH-HOOOO!”

Jason began to scrunch up his face with the feeling of cringe building up. Seeing this short, pudgy, brightly-dressed man dance and scream brought memories up to Jason of his more youthful days: when he and his brother once bagged a difficult bounty that got them running across the road for three days straight. When they eventually caught the bastard, he and Fred decided for once to let out a “yee haw” like in the old videos. The roped up crook stared at them like they were a bunch of freaks off an asylum and right then began to laugh. Fred stared daggers at the man, while Jason gave him a punch to knock him out.

His attention returned back to the present when he saw Blondie’s mayor dancing still, with his knees bent and spread wide as he hops in place. Eventually he calms down just enough to stop dancing, but he’s still talking in full volume,

“Now son, normally I don’t get to Yee-Haw’, but damnit is this not the perfect opportunity for a Yee-Haw! I’m just loving what I’m hearing, and it’s such a pleasure to have you do this for us! This town is blessed to have someone of the Crimson Cross here, and we’ll be eternally grateful for you coming forward the way you did.” He calms further, no longer shouting but instead now enraptured with what he’s imagining, “I can see it now: you and your crew… riding from the hill-top to take the fight to those bandits! Revolvers and rifles shooting out every which way - had I the chance, I’d love to come with you for such a spectacular sight!”

Right then Jason urgently interrupts and covers his ass, saying, “Better I just handle this on my own, sir. A gang like this doesn’t need every member of the Cross coming in to deal with it.”

“Right right…” Replies Rasmussen, calmer now but still delighted. “Well, thanks nonetheless. You be safe now, alright? Oh, and better you explain this all to the folk over by the bar… better to hear it from a hero like yourself than their mayor. That ought to calm them down.”

“Sure…”

With that, Mayor Rasmussen leaves off to his post - trotting down the dirt road with an excited skip in his step. Jason watched, feeling absolutely relieved to no longer have that guy at his side. Then, with a quick turn, he heads off towards the crowd.

The crowd were still chatting amongst each other, with few and growing taking notice of Jason as he started to get close to them. One by one, then five and ten, began to turn their heads towards the tall, muscular man that was standing before them and the bar. Charlie and Frankie looked on too but were unable to do much with the crowd still between them and Jason. For a moment everyone had quieted down, and Jason could get a good look of their faces once again. The fear was present, among other expressions of concern and frustration. This kind of violence is far too uncommon for this place, and they’re all demanding something be done with it - especially when it’s hit about the only source of entertainment for miles.

Right before Jason could get a word in, a women among the crowd speaks out, “M-Mr. Frederick, Sir?”

The name felt like a sharp pinch at Jason’s side - a reminder of last night’s events, and of a whole lot more. He is unable to say anything before more people begin to speak aloud.

“Frederick!”

“Frederick Cross, Sir!”

“Frederick, what can you do about these bandits?”

“The children can’t sleep when we’ve got dangerous men coming over!”

“My farm’s vulnerable, Mr. Cross! Can you help?”

Eventually it turned into a ringing sound, and Jason’s eyes twitched as he was starting to get overloaded with all the questions and noise. He stretches his arms out, trying to signal everybody to calm down for just a moment. Still they squabble and chattered, trying to out-speak each other in a frenzy of concern and fright. Jason sighed, took a deep and yelled out, “Alright ya’ll, listen!”

The chattering stopped, and so did the ringing.

He gives them another moment to dwell in the silence, making sure nobody tried to let out another word. Satisfied, he thinks for a second on how to proceed before finally speaking in a calm yet confident manner.

“Ok, now that I got your attention, I’m here to tell you all what you need to know. The name’s Frederick Cross, and I’m currently on the job of fixing all this. You guys don’t have anything to worry about, because you guys have a professional on duty here. Now the two guys that came here: they’re done and dealt with as of last night. As for their gang, they ain’t gonna be a problem.”

“How’re you sure about that?!” Cries an old lady from the back. Many mutter the same, either on their own or with their loved ones alongside.

Jason answers, “Because I know these guys, ok? I know how a lot of these gangs operate, and what signs to be worried of - and what I saw here wasn’t worth worrying about. This is just some small, up-and-coming gang that is trying to make it big. They probably have about 10 to 15 members at the most, and not a lot of experience in between the lot of them.”

“But sir! How do you know that?” A man calls out, wondering.

“Simple.” Jason starts, explaining, “If they were big then they’d have come here already. I have a lifetime of experience with these gangs, or raider bands as they’re sometimes called. I’ve faced against a lot of the bigger ones - going around with crazy names like REDS or Jozies. Those gangs mean business, and they’re not one to just send a couple guys to do their businesses when they can send a whole lot to get it done right. Of course, I know they ain’t big because they don’t at all look the part. These small gangs are very common, and they like to stir up trouble just to make a name for themselves. They like to come to towns like this, especially in the middle of the night while everyone is asleep - because they know they can’t deal with everyone here, in the likelihood that they’ll be armed and ready. Not to mention they only had one gun between the two that came last night, so they probably don’t have much to arm themselves. So from how I see it… these guys aren’t a problem. Not for you, and certainly not for me, because I will be dealing with these guys for what they’ve done.

The crowd murmur among themselves, many a lot calmer than when they arrived. Right then Jason closes his statement, “Now I promise you folks: I won’t stop until I dealt with this gang and made sure you’re all safe. You can trust in my word as a Crimson Cross that I can finish this job.”

Some smile, feeling safer now. They take his words as a great relief, with many beginning to move away - all while giving their thanks and best wishes to Jason as they pass him by. While some are still a little unsure, their nerves have surely lost their stress. However, an elderly man walks to Jason and asks of him,

“Frederick Cross, is it?”

Jason looks to the man, is silent for a moment, and answers not long after, “Just as I said.”

The man nods slowly, looking up to the young Cross before he says out, “Many know of you and your brother’s adventures, sir. You done a lot of us settlements plenty of good, more than the government even. We don’t doubt your skills one bit. They call you a master gunslinger, a tracker and a man of good wisdom. I think I can speak for a lot of us here that… we’re honored to have you here in Blondie. We hope you’ll do us well in protecting this town.”

Jason gasps a bit though hides it well. His smile perks up, and he says with a slight chuckle and righteous tone, “Well sir, it’s just as much an honor to help. I’m sure if we had my brother here, we’d do even greater at it.”

Then the man frowns a bit, replying with a shrug, “Perhaps.”

Before long he leaves, and so does everybody else. Not much else is said.

Jason’s smile drops slowly, and a tiredness comes to his eyes. He can feel something trying to come out, but he shoves it down. Squashes it. Buries it, and pats the dirt for good measure. He resumes his walk towards the bar, feeling almost the same way he did that night when coming in.

As he steps up to the bar, he’s greeted by both Frankie and Charlie, the former of whom gives a happy shout of, “Hey hey friend!” before meeting Jason halfway with a great, big hug. Jason’s smile returns a bit as he does the same to his friend, as Charlie directs a look of happiness and relief at the man. They hold on for a moment before letting go, with Jason giving a pat onto Jason’s uninjured shoulder. He laughs aloud,

“Finally awake from the dead, eh?! You been out of it for some time, thought for a moment you’d be sitting this one out.”

Jason tsk’d, a slight cocky smile on his face, “I ain’t letting a fight like that put me out of the job just yet. Shoulder will have some issues for a while, but some more rest and I’ll be good as new. Now what’re you two still doing here? Should you be off onto the road or something?”

Frankie laughs some more, pulling Charlie close and pointing him over, “Well me and this fella weren’t in the mind to be leaving soon. We still got the road to Moresatta left, but in the meantime we figured it was better to see you off first and maybe help around a tad. Charlie here was quite insistent to see what other trouble you’ll be getting into.”

“That true?” Jason asks, half surprised, other half… delighted?

Charlie nods, still looking uncomfortable from being held so closely. “I came here to see the stories and history of this planet - and what’s better than actually seeing it in motion? If you don’t mind, of course. I’d be honored to capture it all for my collection.”

Jason’s features soften as he seems to smile more genuinely this time around. He brings his hand forward to offer a shake to Charlie, who almost excitedly takes it though tries his best to be polite in the end. Meanwhile Frankie lets Charlie go, standing back to give the two guys some room. Jason states, “Well, happy to have you along Mr. Wills.”

They soon let go, with Jason saying out, “Now that’s all settled, how about we give the bar a look? I’ve got a feeling we could get something out of it before I make the drive out.”

Frankie and Charlie agree, following Jason into the bar as they approach with slow steps. Jason takes the lead in entering the building as he confidently strides and retraces the steps he took after the fight. Frankie is more lax, keeping close to the walls to overlook everything while Charlie does his best to stick close to Jason.

When they enter, the group is given a sight not much different than what they left behind. Some of the blood had been mopped up, and the two bodies taken away. Tables and chairs all over had been stacked or moved to allow more freedom to clean the mess. The music-player from before was still running, back on the sort of music that best fit this place. Currently it was playing “Call on Me (& I’ll Be There” by Floyd Tillman - or so Jason remembers. Meanwhile, much of the knick knacks and antiques have been moved away, either to be scrubbed off of blood or to allow more space to better wash the walls. The bartender from last night is in the middle of the main floor, moving another chair away by the time the group entered. He takes a moment to notice Jason, letting out a gruff exhale before putting the chair down onto the ground.

Jason looked back at him, a bit wide-eyed at the moment. Charlie was a bit more nervous coming back, as memories of last night come back to both of them and the not-so-thrilled owner. It was at that moment that Jason was able to really look at the man, seeing as he was no longer just a face in the background.

The bartender’s face spoke of hardship: a thick, angular jaw and cheeks, wrinkled from years of harsh sunlight and with a bushy, dark grey beard that went every which way but up. The same coarse hair was seen in his brows, that covered up an intense, almost ever-constant glare. Covering up what little hair he had on his head was a white cap, looking a bit brown from age and dirt.

His body was built with strength, but some of it had been lost. His arms were bare and muscular, but sagging in areas. His bartending apron hung proudly from his shoulders, and underneath was a miner’s jumpsuit, with sleeves rolled up. Near the collar was an interesting sight: a set of military patches from the UROE, neatly stitched for personal flair.

The two men stared at each other for a long while, with a heavy silence building between them both. Eventually Jason, with a strong sigh, broke the silence with a comment, “Just want to start off by saying…. That I’m really sorry for what had happened to your bar. I promise to pay back the moment I can. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think I’d have dealt with those so well if it hadn’t been for your collection there.”

For a moment the bartender simply stared back in silence before replying back in an old, strong voice, “Well, if anything, I’m glad that you dealt with those men… Jason.”

Jason coughs a bit before speaking out, “Oh… look, I was a tad drunk and--”

“And nothing.” Interrupted the bartender, his voice commanding discipline yet was done so calmly. “Now I appreciate you stopping those two strangers and saving the lives for your friends and I. However, I don’t like you lying to the town on your name, especially when it holds so much weight for a lot of folk. These people have a lot of love for the Crosses - we ain’t seen ‘em in many long years. So you best understand how serious this whole matter is.”

Jason felt guilty right there. It was like he was back in the farm, being scolded by his own father. It felt all too familiar, and hurt much the same. Once the man was done talking, Jason asked softly, “Are you going to tell them?”

The bartender shakes his head, “Nope.”

“No?”

“You are gonna tell them.” The bartender states. “If you know what’s good for you and this town, you ought to come clean and tell them the truth. It’s the best choice you can make.”

Jason tsk’s, wincing a bit from a light but sudden head-ache. He sighs, settling on saying to the man, “That’ll come when it comes. Right now I’m set on helping however I can, Mr…”

“Duke. Just Duke.” The bartender says, shrugging as his calm behavior is left unchanged. “If that’ll be, then that’ll be. So is there anything you are looking for?”

“It already looks like you cleaned up a lot so far. I was hoping to find any signs of whatever gang these guys belonged to - maybe how they’re dressed would give an idea.”

“Well, you’re going to have some problems with that”, Duke explains. “Couple of our men here came around and dumped the bodies far off. No clue where though, but the wild must’ve taken them away soon after, as they were gone by morning. Now I did get the chance to grab something off of them - a patch and their knives. I have no idea what it means, but you’re welcome to check them out on the table corner over there.”

Duke points over towards a far off corner of the bar, and sure enough on the surface lay two knives that belonged to the gangers, and a patch torn from a jacket.

Jason gives a nod to the man and heads over, with Charlie and Frankie following suit.

With careful hands, Jason held one knife up to inspect it:

It was similar to the other in many ways. The blade was serrated, short and thin, with an indent of some poker cars and a snake on one side. The smooth wrapped leather handle had a red tint, with metal pieces colored with copper. Aside from the blade there was nothing of interest in the handle.

As for the patch itself, there was plenty of details to read: it was shaped in an oval with the image of a white wooden coffin wrapped by two snakes against a black background. The snakes were colored with stripes of green and red, and the coffin was marked with the red initials of “C.C.”. Then, circling around the image was the name of the band, written in a sharp font: “Stone Groove Aces”.

Jason put the knife down, sighing a bit as he tried to collect his thoughts. He thinks aloud towards his friends, “Don’t remember anybody called the ‘Stone Groove Aces’, so very much likely a brand new gang. The initials on the coffin in this here patch don’t leave me a lot to work with, though I’m inclined to believe it means ‘Crimson Crosses’ - maybe a personal grudge. It doesn’t really give me an idea on where or how to find them.”

Frankie chimes in, “I can count better the number of gangs that don’t outright hate you better than the ones that do, Jason. Hell, I’m surprised there isn’t a gang simply called the ‘Crimson Cross Haters’.” He chuckles a bit, while Jason smirks a little at the thought.

Charlie meanwhile takes the second knife carefully into his own hands, examining it himself. He slides his fingers at the knife’s blade, looking very closely at it. Before long he gives his own theory, as he then feels the grip. “This has more the look of a cooking knife than any proper weapon.”

Jason shrugs, “So? Gangs here often use stuff like that when they’re short on supply.”

“Ok, but why both?” Charlie ponders, “Obviously they’ve been customized, so why would they settle on a style of knife like this? There might actually be a purpose to it, maybe in connection to their origins or some mentality. This handle material is also pig leather. Soft and rich, but not suitable for tools compared to other forms of leather.”

Jason and Frankie side eye’d one another, as Jason then directs his look back at Charlie and asks, “Now how would you know all that?”

Charlie looks at them both, a little nervous now that he’s under the spotlight. He then explains, as he puts the knife down. “Told you, I’m from Tyrell. Plenty of good colleges over there. I personally did some studying on agriculture and goods - alongside general logistics and trade. I’ve never put the actual work on account of the environment there, but I learned a great amount thanks to their libraries. They’re very informative, by the way. You can find a whole lot of different subjects and material, in fact they had a whole wing dedicated to crops and field wor--”

“Settle down there, friend. We got the picture.” Jason interrupts, chuckling some. He grins, remarking, “Well thank God… we’ve got a college man here. Ain’t we lucky.”

Frankie shows a more toothy smile, “And a chatterbox to match. Keep him close, Jason - with any luck, maybe you’ll come out of this with more an actual brain than you were given.”

“Shut up.” Jason says softly, smiling.

Charlie chuckles a bit as well. “Oh please. I was just excited to learn something that connected with this place and all. It’s always been a fascination.”

“Well now you’re living it.” Jason comments, taking the knives and patch before walking away. Charlie takes it in, smiling ever more before he excitedly follows after.

Jason gives a wave towards Duke as he walks, saying aloud. “We’ll be heading out! I think we might have something on this.”

“Alright! Now you two best be careful out there!” Duke calls out. “No telling what that gang will do once they find out about this.”

“Won’t be much trouble. You got something to defend yourself with, right?”

Duke nods, reaching over to the bar and grabbing from behind it: the shotgun from last night, now cleaned up of any blood or grime it once had. Jason turned back for a moment to see it, surprised to see it again. He almost wanted to ask for it back, but knew it was better that someone like Duke ought to keep it just in case. With that, Jason waves and so to do Charlie and Frankie. The group exit out from the bar and walk around to the back where both Jason’s car and Frankie’s truck are parked.

Frankie’s truck was a large vehicle, with an armored front and a space back covered by a thick tarp. With 6 wheels and some modifications, the thing is able to shoot straight through the Black Road and onto Moresatta and back much faster than most cars. It was the perfect machine for Frankie, whose job was to taxi people across the whole desert. However right next to the truck were two luggages - Charlie’s luggages.

Charlie rushes over to collect them, all while Jason stops to talk with Frankie.

“Can’t come along, Frankie?”

Frankie is a bit more serious now, speaking with less of a smile. “Got the call from the company awhile back. They want me on the road A.S.A.P., no excuses. I asked to stay long enough to see you off, but that’s as long as I could go. You can take our friend’s luggage along, meanwhile I’ll be busy on the road for some time.”

“Sure you can’t come back any time?” Jason asks, a bit saddened.

“I can, but you’re going to have to call it in later - and on when I can come back, that’s a tad beyond me. I’m sure you can settle things on ya’ll own just fine though. Don’t knock yourself down too much Jason. You’ve faced off worse before this, and I know this won’t be much a challenge for you.”

“Thanks for coming along anyways, friend.” Jason holds his hand out, but Frankie instead goes in for another hug. He grips tight, giving a couple friendly pats to the back, before moving back to give Jason some air. All the while Jason smiles, happy to have had Frankie along for what time he could get.

Frankie walks to his truck, whistling a tune as he does so.

Turning to his car, Jason sees Charlie trying to carry his luggage over to the car. He takes a glance at the hood, seeing something before calling out, “Hey uh… is this blood I’m seeing?”

To which Jason shouts back, “Don’t mind it! Just… press the release on the underside, you won’t miss it.”

He almost starts to make way for the car, but is approached from behind by a soft cough and a familiar, feminine voice, “Mr. Frederick.”

Jason turns, seeing Samantha Collier - back with a wicker basket containing some wrapped goods: meats, bread, and bottles of water. She holds it over to Jason, giving him a gentle smile that develops a pleasant feeling inside of him. He takes a moment to register the kind act before slowly accepting it, all the while Samantha speaks to him with a soft tone of voice,

“Thought I’d leave you with a gift. A little something for the road.”

“Well that’s very nice of you, Ms. Collier.” Jason chuckled dumbly, before collecting his senses back and saying more politely, “Thank you for helping me. Still, much appreciated.”

“Don’t mention it.” She replies, “It’s not everyday you help save a hero.”

“Yeah…” Jason almost breaks his seriousness for a moment there, keeping his smile.

“Though I hope to someday meet your brother. From what I hear of those stories everyone talks about, he sounds like quite the exciting man. If you ever come across him, tell him that Samantha would like a meeting. If he’s up for it.”

She leaves with a bow, waving the men away as she turns towards the town. “Stay safe, and thank you for helping us here.”

Jason Cross stands there, hands held tight onto the basket - feeling his heart skip a bit, and a warmth building in his cheeks. He feels proud and happy for a moment, and for the first time in a long while, that he was Jason Cross.

Before long he joins Charlie in the car, and at that time Frankie had already driven off for the Black Road. He gently places the basket in the back seat before driving himself to the Road as well, and away from the town of Blondie.

Jason leaves the town, feeling much happier than when he came in.

#CROSS #KRONOS #original story #science fiction #western #original work #original writing #EyeOfSemicolon #the5thsemicolon #semicolonthefifth

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andykoons · 6 years

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PROLOGUE - PATIENT(S) ZERO

Fucking zombies. Of all the seemingly impossible calamities in the entire universe to wind up being real, it just had to be fucking zombies. Not dragons, not robots, not aliens. Nope. Hell, we’d have been ok with killer fairies. I’d kick the everliving shit out of a killer fairy. Curb-stomp that little bitch into rainbow dust. Personally, I think the world would be less chaotic, and would definitely smell a bit better if it was the killer fairy apocalypse instead of the rotting, biting, putrid one we were handed. But no, mother nature is a bitch, and she must have been fed up with humanity, because she didn’t give us killer fairies, she gave us fucking zombies. Who can blame her? Humanity has been systematically raping her for the last several hundred years.

I guess I better give you some backstory. Nobody knows how it started, we just know the when and where. It happened in the emergency room of a hospital in Tokyo. It was the perfect breeding ground for a contagious disease. Patient, or rather, patients zero, (depending on how you look at it), was a twenty-three year old woman who was eight months pregnant. The disease got out of the hospital and into a city densely populated with 13.35 million people. This was two years ago. It spread like a wild fire thanks to public transportation and something called the “Incubation Period” which is the time it takes to show symptoms after being exposed to the disease. This particular virus is called Nakashima Virus One, named after Dr. Hitoshi Nakashima, the virologist who got the first good look at the beast, or NV-1 for short. Typically, new diseases and viruses are named based on location, host, and effect, so it actually should have been named something like Japanese Reanimation Disease, or J-RAD. But given how fast it took for this thing to go from bad to worse left little time for a large number of protocols to be followed. Besides, J-RAD sounds like a Japanese boy-band from the 90’s. NV-1 has an incubation period between fourteen and eighteen hours, and symptom numero uno is being a fucking zombie. It’s like a switch gets flipped and all of a sudden, uncle Jerry looks delicious.

The Japanese military tried to quarantine the inner city but Tokyo’s population is, or was, packed so tightly that the measly five percent of the city they tried to lock down still contained upwards of 670,000 exposed people, most of which had already turned. Four days into the outbreak, NV-1 had swallowed Tokyo and the United States stepped in and dropped a dry fuel hydrogen bomb in the middle of the city. The bomb was designed after the Castle Bravo hydrogen bomb that the U.S. tested in the 50’s, which, including the surrounding cities, caused the deaths of over 3.3 million, of which maybe half were infected. Nature has a nasty way of bringing up the past.

NV-1 is a resilient little bastard, though. It got out. Maybe it became airborne after it’s many hosts were turned to red mist. Maybe a handful of privates were bitten and brought it back to their various bases in the Southwest. Nobody really knows, but no more than a day later, there were NV-1 cases popping up on South Korea’s east coast, first by the hundreds, then by the thousands, crawling up to North Korea and eventually to Beijing. When the reports came in that Beijing was overrun, we all knew we were fucked. All flights were grounded but it was already too late. The vast network of airliners was very instrumental in the dispersion of NV-1 into every major city on the planet. Like I said, fucked.

The first case in the states came from the LAX airport in Los Angeles, the second at JFK in New York. The U.S. population was sandwiched between the coasts which gave way pretty early. I found that particularly surprising. We all had zombie movies, video games, shows, comic books and various other mediums that were saturated in zombie culture, and it was not uncommon to hear about someone’s “zombie plan”. Most involved drunken frat boys punching their way to victory. Because of this, I always assumed the zombie apocalypse would be over in fifteen minutes. If it was on everybody’s mind, then we should have been prepared, right? Well, the reality of shooting your friend/mother/father/child in the face to preserve your own life is a pill few people have the balls to swallow. It’s not pretty, it’s survival.

The biggest difference between the undead of lore and the undead of reality is they’re just broken humans. Dead, broken humans. The CDC in Seattle had been working on something that could fight back on a biological scale, some said there was a breakthrough, a cure even. However, something went wrong and the laboratory, with all the technology, and people necessary in stopping this virus, went up in flames. Some say it was an explosion, others say it was domestic terrorism, conspiracy theorists say it was the Illuminati, and racists say it was the Jews.

In movies and television, zombies had a distinct sound, a growl or a snarl, a gurgly sound of gasses escaping their bloated stomachs, making it easier for the audience to: A. Sympathize with the heroes against a singular foe, and B. Make the distinction between human and zombie. Not in reality, though. When you get bit, you don’t all of a sudden develop the vocal chords of a velociraptor, at least, not until they being to rot. You still have the same ones as before. So, do you want to know what newly-turned zombies sound like?

People.

Yeah, that will fuck with you for a while. No, they don’t talk, but real quick, make a sound with your mouth, a note, like talking without any actual words, enunciation, or pronunciation of anything. Just a solid noise. That’s what they sound like when they’re docile, when they’re hungry, they scream. Just like a normal person would if they were terrified. This cost probably just as many lives as the disease did. People scream when they’re scared, zombies scream when they’re hungry, in the middle of a panic-stricken crowd of people, nobody can tell human from zombie.

It took a grand total of eleven days for NV-1 to go global and claim it’s first million. A month later, it’s first billion. Now nobody is keeping track. At least, not of the dead. I heard one guy say that there could be less than four million survivors left worldwide. I’m not a mathematician, but on a global scale, four million out of seven billion is like the preverbal drop of water in the ocean. But like so many other details in this zombie clusterfuck, nobody knows.

There are no governments left anywhere, so the military personnel that run the safe zone we are living in are getting their orders from the highest ranking guy in the zone. There’s no coordination with other safe zones because there’s no communication. Cell phones are a thing of the past, obviously, as well as electricity, pizza, and literally anything clean. We don’t know how many safe zones are out there other than Union Pier on the Lake Michigan coast and the one up in Alamo Township, that’s the only one we have any sort of communication with. We send a couple guys in a truck over there to trade supplies if needed and the communication I spoke of is usually nothing more than, “Yeah, they’re not dead yet.”

Rumors about Union Pier have been circling around the zone. Reports of walls instead of fences, fully staffed security, and next to a nearly infinite water and food supply. Sure, the winters suck with the lake effect snow, but that’s advantageous when you consider that zombies don’t do well in the snow. The Alamo Township Safe Zone, however, seems to be a carbon copy of Leonidas. A small community surrounded by weak fences.

Walls. That word alone makes my mouth water. To be honest, we really have no idea if Union Pier is even still standing, but it makes me feel somewhat lighter to entertain the possibility of a walled-in community. We are constantly repairing the fences around our zone. Razor wire can only do so much when you have thousands of pounds of rotting flesh pushing against it. It was the fact that we have fences instead of walls that almost got my ass bitten six months ago.

The Alamo Township Safe Zone is about ten miles northeast of Kalamazoo, which is about thirty miles northeast of us. It’s the closest civilization to us that we have concrete evidence to show we’re not alone. Every once in a while we would send Paul, our agriculture guy up there to make sure they weren’t fucking up their crops, they would also send people to us so Jared, our cook, could show them how to properly cook game.

So this whole time I’ve been talking my ass off and you don’t know a damn thing about me. Sorry. My name is Milo Becker. I have a wife, Heather, and three boys, Wilson, (we call him Willis), Everett, and Luke, ages six, four, and one, respectively. My wife’s half-sister, Addison Fields, lives with us. Heather also has two half-brothers, David and Caleb. David is Addison’s full brother. He had the same mother as Heather, but he and Addison had a different father. He was somewhat of a recluse and we never heard anything from him after Beijing fell. Caleb was a marine. He had the same father as Heather but a different mother. He was deployed about a month before the United States sent troops to Japan. He said he wasn’t allowed to say where he was going, but we all knew once the news came in that were in Tokyo. Our safe zone is in a tiny town called Leonidas, (pronounced Lee-AW-nuh-dis, not Lee-oh-NIGH-dus like that Spartan king with painted-on abs). Leonidas, Alamo Township, and Union Pier are in our favorite mitten shaped state, Michigan. I’ve had a lot of different jobs in my life, fry cook, barista, nurse’s aide, driver for a medical supply company, etcetera. I even dabbled in blacksmithing for a bit, at the time it was a hobby, but now, any time someone needs their shovels fixed or a pickaxe sharpened they come to me. Now it’s a skill that has come in very handy. All of my experience landed me a job as a handy man in our safe zone. I know a little about a lot so I’ve made myself useful by fixing everybody’s shit and endlessly repairing the fences. Heather worked in a daycare for nearly a decade so she volunteered to watch everybody’s kids while they did whatever job they needed to do. Addy also worked in a dozen different jobs so she works with me. We do good together, we manage to get some stuff done when we’re not goofing off. When I moved away from my family in Kansas, she became my sister just as much as Heather’s. God, I have no idea what happened to my folks. The last thing I ever heard from any of them is a phone call I got from my Dad, telling me he was trying to get his congregation together in his church to wait out the plague. He’s a pastor, that’s where I get my long-windedness from. I may not believe in god, but I could talk in front of a group of people for hours about the things I believe in, mostly Star Wars or Doctor Who. After that phone call, I never heard from him again. As for my mother, she was living in Ozark, Missouri when the shit hit the fan. Her and her boyfriend had a house out in the hills. They might very well be alive. I was so busy getting my family to safety that by the time I had calmed down enough to worry about her, the phones were down. I had never met her boyfriend before, but he is, or was, a career military man, so I keep telling myself that she’s in good hands.

My older sister lived in Olathe, Kansas with her husband and three children. Her husband, Steve, was an outdoorsy type. Hunting, fishing, camping, that was his life. If anybody can survive out here, it’s him. And I can’t think of anybody better equipped to protect my sister and my nephews.

My younger sister, on the other hand, was in the process of moving to California to shack up with a guy she met on the internet. I don’t know anything about the guy. Don’t even remember his name, but he must have been a good guy. My sister is a tough little bitch, and not easy to impress. So if this guy convinced her that he was good enough for her to relocate across the country, he must be good. My only worry is that she was in, or at least heading to California, and the heavily populated states got it the worst.

Her means of meeting him gets no judgement from me, since the internet is exactly how I found myself, a Kansas boy, living in Michigan. Heather and I met online when I was in college. I went to a Christian university in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. I was expelled near the end of my first year because I was suspected of sneaking off campus and smoking that dangerous gateway drug, marijuana. Long story short, I was sneaking off campus and smoking a metric fuck-ton of weed, and was caught because I was sitting in the hallway of my dorm building, laughing my ass off at an air vent. I was inexperienced with drugs, to say the least.

The Leonidas safe zone, (we’ll call it LSZ from now on), was established mostly by the citizens living there and was later discovered by the remaining military and… I don’t know, taken over? We didn’t mind the extra firepower and security, but they definitely run the show now. They were the first to really push to get us working, which not only improved morale, but hey, a safe zone against a horde of zombies is going to have it’s hiccups here and there, and to keep those at bay, we needed a workforce. So good on them.

The first year of LSZ life was nothing but trial and error. The first thing we learned was that guns are loud, and loud things attract zombies. I remember someone once said that “Fire is your best friend, and a zombie’s worst enemy.” That guy was eaten by flaming zombies for being an idiot. The key to survival in this new, terrible world is silence and invisibility, so the light from a fire can attract the dead from miles away.

Your real best friend is a blade made with good steel, expertly forged, hardened, and tempered with the right equipment, unfortunately I have none of those things so I make what I can with what steel I can find. I have a homemade forge that I made with the deck of a push mower. I took the engine off and turned it upside down. The hole left in the middle was a good place to attach a grate and force air through it. My anvil and bellows was found at a nearby farm. If there is one thing the area has to offer, it’s tools. Leonidas is in the middle of several thousand acres of farmland and there are close to thirty farm houses in a five mile radius. Hammers, anvils, hardy tools, tongs, anything a blacksmith could ever need is only a short, yet terrifying, walk away.

There are probably about forty people living in the LSZ. Most of them are from surrounding farm towns, Athens, Colon, Bronson, Mendon, Centreville, and Sherwood. Many families share houses since there’s only about twenty houses in town. The actual size of Leonidas is much larger, but the small, one light neighborhood is where the bulk of the residents lived. The rest was farmland.

I guess I should mention the other family we live with. We share a house with the Hasely family. Jared, his wife Mamie, and their sixteen year old daughter, Keysha. They came from Coldwater. They were trying to make it to Kalamazoo but opted to stay off the main highway and instead went the back way, which, you guessed it, brought them through Leonidas. At first they just passed through, but they came right back a few hours later, without their vehicle. They had run into some undead related trouble. They’re good people. Probably the only black people to ever set foot in Leonidas since god knows when. At first there was a bit of rustled feathers with the older folks, but Captain Manallis made it abundantly clear that they either keep their racist shit to themselves or get the fuck out of town. Either way, after a few months of Jared’s cooking for everybody, it was all ebony and ivory, even for the ancient racists.

He went to culinary school where he met his wife. After graduating, they got married and opened a restaurant together in Coldwater called “Jamie’s.” An obvious welding of their names. I had never been there but whenever I passed it, it always looked busy. Which says a lot more than a food critic can. I can tell you this for sure, that dude can do beautiful things with a rabbit. He would just walk out into the woods and come back with a bag full of herbs I’ve never even heard of. It all looked like grass and leaves to me, but it was like LSD for the taste buds.

My family and I were in Colon, when it all happened and by the time we left, we got stuck in Leonidas due to a flat tire, which I had never had to deal with before. We were taken in by a family whose name I forget, since they left the very next day. We were on our way to Battle Creek, at the time thinking a bigger city would be safer. You have to drive through Leonidas to get to Battle Creek. Long story short, we just stayed here and helped build what we have now. It’s not perfect, but with a lot, (good god, a fuck-ton), of TLC, it’s safe for the most part. And, by the way, I can change the shit out of a flat tire now.

We have rules, well, they started as rules but you might as well call them laws now. The most important is to stay quiet. Shouting matches are bound to happen, but they’re best if hashed out indoors. Guns are a big no no, unless it’s your only option or you’re far enough away from the compound that anything that hears it will be drawn away from the rest of the community, such as when you’re hunting.

As I pointed out before, fire is also frowned upon. Zombies have eyes. They use their eyes. So anything that produces a lot of light needs to be put out. The solar powered street lamps in town had to be shot out, (we weren’t observing rule one yet), after we got stormed in the middle of the night.

The curfew is pretty strict. As soon as the sun goes down, only the night watch is allowed to be out. It’s not necessarily a “shoot on sight” type strict, but the night watch won’t let you off the hook without a well-intentioned black eye.

The top ranking guy in the LSZ, Captain Manallis, is a hardass, but underneath his rough and tough exterior is the softy, chewy, caramel center of a halfway decent human being. I think I pegged him in the beginning as someone who puts on a face of authority because we need it to survive. The man has seen some shit too. He served four tours in Afghanistan and the stories he had about his time overseas were chilling indeed. He and his squad were on a military base in Battle creek when they were overrun and fled. I don’t know what made them think of little ol’ Leonidas in the middle of East Jesus Nowhere, but they’re here now, leaderless and self-enlisted, and I’m pretty thankful for them. He stood at roughly six feet, with salt and pepper hair. He still wore camouflage even though the rest of his men donned blue jeans and t-shirts. It helped with the image of order though.

Most of us have been here for a little over two years and the climate is systematic and routine. We get by, in a place to wait while the zombies can starve to death… again… re-die? I don’t know if they ever will starve. At least it’s something to hope for in a seemingly hopeless world.

The next day is going to be long. Addy and I have to inspect the fences and check the town bulletin board for work orders that have accrued since we called it a day. That’s the extent of excitement for our lives now. I used to want to do big things. I wanted to be a writer, go to film school, record an album. Anything creative. And then, just when I was making enough money to get Heather through school to be an ultrasound tech and eventually to put myself through film school, this shit happens. Just when everything was finally going good, zombies happened.

Fucking zombies.

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