#so guess who got the camera tools
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let's spill some blood
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I got this, like, super cute teddy bear spy thingy, right? And, like, it was just sitting on my dresser, being all innocent and stuff. But guess what? It was secretly watching me, and I had no idea! So, I was, like, totally getting undressed and watching some, uh, "videos," if you know what I mean enjoying my me time and falling asleep after coming a few times. And then I awoke who knows when, out of nowhere, these four guys hacked into my feed and, like, started streaming it to the whole world! So, these guys, they, like, came over to my place with all these, um, tools and stuff. And, like, they had this super fancy camera, ropes, tape, vibrators, plugs, dildos, and even that electric zapper thingy! They broke into my room while I was still, like, butt naked and, like, totally forced me onto my back. They tied me up all spread out and stuff, and, like, put tape on my mouth. And then, ohmygosh, one of them started, um, licking me down there! And another one put this, like, plug in my butt to "get me ready" or whatever. And then, they started zapping me with that electric thingy, even when no one was touching me there! They set up a camera to stream everything to whoever wanted to watch. And then, this one guy, he, like, took his turn and started, um, doing the deed. He made me cum, like, not once, but twice! And then, he pulled out and, like, moved aside for the camera guy to take his turn. And, ohmygosh, they, like, kept taking turns with me, over and over again! They made me cum, like, four times each time they were with me. So, like, after they had their fun, they um, decided to keep me tied up and rent me out to other people. And, like, they even made a website to live stream every corner of my house! And, like, once they break me (whatever that means), they're gonna let me roam around with a shock collar on! And every night, before I go to sleep, they tie me to the bed and, like, make sure I have a vibrator tied to my clit all night long. They just put up the website, like, an hour ago and they already have five clients who are paying, get this, 15K to, like, you know, "put a baby in me."
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Locked in with the Film Research Club
I had Vil on the mind from finishing my last fic when someone "liked" one of my Club Visit stories and...here we are! Sorry Ortho, but of course Vil steals the show here!
Sometimes, it strikes you at odd moments that Vil is famous, really famous. You'd been walking past the gym when you saw a student drop a heavy looking box and kick it. "Who does he think he is? Mr. Famous is too good to do the grunt work but can order us around like we work for him!" The student waking with him also drops his box and smiles, "Yeah, let's ditch and let our delicate princess figure this out himself." With that, they both laughingly depart.
You walked over, already having an idea in mind about what had happened. You pulled open the box to see a mixture of lighting and sound equipment. You give a small sigh, putting the picture together. Vil was a strict a leader in the Film Research Club as he was a Dorm Leader. Not everyone could deal with his...intense... style of encouragement and grew to envy and resent him.
You sighed but hefted the boxes anyway. You wouldn't exactly say that you and Vil were friends, but after the VDC, you were at least friendly. Plus, Ortho was always telling you about the things he'd done in club. You can't disappoint a fellow first-year! So, you trudge your way over to the alchemy school wing that you heard the Film club would be using for their shoot today.
When you arrived, you found Ortho setting up some complicated machinery to attach the camera to. You greet the cheerful boy and tell him about the boxes. "Vil Schoenheit has been looking for that equipment. He'll be so happy you've found it, Prefect! I'll go tell him right away!" You pat Ortho on the back, "That's OK. I've got lots of spare time and you seem busy here. I'll go tell him. Just point me in the right direction!"
You found Vil in a large storage closet near the Alchemy room, just as Ortho suggested he'd be. You swing the door open and approach Vil, who is leafing through a book near the back of the closet where a small amount of light shines through a tiny window. "Hey Vil, Ortho sent me," you began before Vil turns and shouts, "Perfect! Grab the door!" You jump at the shouting and hear an ominous click behind you.
Vil sighs, and you look at him guiltily, "Oops." It turns out that the supply closet near the Alchemy rooms locks automatically when closed due to the expensive ingredients and tools stored within. Plus, since some of the components have a chance of magical reaction if not stored correctly, the room was warded against magic. All of that added up to you and Vil being locked in the supply closet until someone came to find you.
Vil gave another sigh and returned to the book he was viewing. After a moment of looking around, you wandered over to join him. Plus... it's a closet; you really don't have a lot of choices here. You peek over and see it's a photo album. "Rook took them," Vil comments when he notices your interest. "I was in here picking up some special effects potions. Rook makes them in Science Club and leaves them in here until we need them. I guess he also stores some old photos here, too."
You leaned in to look. They were pictures from last year's Film Research Club. Some were productions, and others were candid shots from behind the scenes. A few you found confusing, but you imagined, if you asked Rook, he'd have a long explanation about why he'd photographed a scarf on a chair or a stack of paint canisters. By the end of Rooks flowing explanation, you'd probably believe the unusual subjects to be highly beautiful as well.
Vil turns the page, and the next image is his own, albeit a somewhat younger version. A frown graces his beautiful face, and he comments, "I'm sure he never intended for this to be seen, but I do hate pictures of myself being taken when I can't control them." You look at the photo of second-year Vil, "You look good, though." He looks at you sadly, "How naive you are, potato. You never know what sort of trouble a small photo can start. The tiniest detail that goes unnoticed by you can start a wild scandal."
Vil crosses his arms across his chest and looks at you with a frown, "And speaking of scandal, no good will come of the story of us being in this closet." You can easily imagine the gossip but assure Vil, "I'm sure it will be fine. No one is here but the club members, and we will just explain what happened. I'm sure they will understand!" Vil continues to look at you for a moment, and his expression slowly slides into one of amusement, "Potato, you are so refreshingly optimistic and naive."
You give a small laugh and smile, you know it to be true. Vil looks at you with a sort of fondness. It was so rare to find such a genuine person to interact with once you've become as famous as he. Suddenly, Vil's smile grows sharper and sly, "I, in the other hand, am not as foolish as you. If the peanut gallery is going to spread rumors about me..." You look on in amazement as his smile deepens and he slides close to you...
The closet door opens at last, and Ortho greets you, "Vil Schoenhit! Prefect! My sensors indicate that you have not left this room for thirty minutes. The club members grew worried, and we came to check on you!" You smile gratefully at the AI boy, "Thanks for the rescue, Ortho. I thought we'd be stuck in there all afternoon." Even as you smile at Ortho, you spot the envious duo from earlier. Just as Vil predicted, you can hear their gossiping whispers begin.
You hold your head high and push past them. After all, Vil was right. If people are going to talk about you kissing in the closet, then you might as well be kissing in the closet. You gently put your fingertips to your lips and smile, it wouldn't be a photo to add to Rook's album but you think it is definitely a beautiful memory of Film Research Club for you to hold on to.
#mini event#club visits#twst#twisted wonderland#vil schoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#twst x reader
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Picture Perfect
The meeting was meant to be quick, just to touch on anything that had happened. They could’ve gone anywhere due to, ya know, not able to be seen. But after that restaurant incident Geto would rather it didn’t happen again, so they were meeting up in a clearing in the nearby forest.
At the same time you were following a path, having no set location. Your class had a photography project coming up, and you needed to collect them before the project started. So your group decided it would be fun to go to the forest.
Luckily enough, they left to find their own topic, which you stuck to the path. If they wanted to take photos then they would need to find you. Unluckily for you nothing interesting happened, so you took a moment to relax.
Sitting behind a decently sized tree trunk, listening to the wildlife. Suddenly interrupted by the sound of talking, and it wasn’t your friends. Looking around only revealed one man, alone but talking to others around.
But he did look interesting, it wasnt everyday you’d see someone in his outfit. So when his back was turned you pulled up your camera, getting the right angle before taking the photo. Just as you took it you finally noticed the other three… people?
One looked human, bluish gray hair with stitches all over his body. At least you could assume with them all over his arms and face.
Another, who looked to represent a mountain. Better as a volcano when lava shot out from his head, clearly angry at something ‘stitches’ said.
The third wasn’t close to human, you could only assume something similar to an octopus. With a thin covering over top, but you didn’t want to know more about it.
But the final one, they could pass off as human if it wasn’t for the wood sticking out of their eye sockets. And probably it’s other non-human traits.
During your look you managed to miss one slip out of sight, instead standing behind you. He could only guess at what you were seeing, maybe a wild animal. And that animal just happened to be the giant red octopus.
You took a few pictures and deemed that enough, putting the camera away before making your way back. Unaware of the trouble you seemed to have found.
The past few days had been boring for Mahito. With nothing to do until today, having been sent after some lowly sorcerer. Apparently they got their hands on a highly wanted cursed tool, sending him knowing he’ll get it back. They don’t need the sorcerer, so it’s fair game.
While he hated said sorcerer, he was thankful for how loud they were. From the nearby forest he could hear them shouting at someone, about who knows what. He couldn’t care less.
Strolling closer until the sorcerer was in his sights, one more step closer revealed his victim. It was you, clutching your camera while they pointed at it. He watches them reach for it, only for you to pull it away.
They didn’t get the hint, almost launching themselves at you. You only stepped away while pulling the camera up, looking through it again. Allowing you to see your saviour.
It was the same blue haired guy from that day, and he wasn’t alone. With, as he called him, Hanami. Said ‘person’ cocked its head seeing you looking, but didn’t make anyother move to say it knew, or alarming the other.
Instead using its free hand to seemingly ‘shoo’ you away. Letting you leave while the other was ranting to the sorcerer, and at this point you didn’t care what for. Taking the chance to turn and leave.
“𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒~” The pair were walking back after the fight with that sorcerer. Well, it was barely a fight, just the two almost bullying the kid. At least they got what they needed, with Hanami holding onto the tool.
“𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?” Instead of a verbal response, which he never expected. Hanami paused, only for a bunch of flowers to sprout all around them. Continuing on as Mahito stood and looked around, specifically at the flowers.
They weren’t just any types, and there weren’t as many different types. Instead limited to [Favourite colour] and [2nd Favourite colour], and being [Favourite flower] mixed with a few more.
Huh, maybe even with the differences, he can picture you two together. Both of you just need a small push.
#jjk x reader#jjk x male reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x male reader#mahito x reader#mahito x male reader#hydrangeaisplanting
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Avenger Lane Chapter Six part 2
Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention?
Parings: Quinn Fabray x G!P Reader / eventual Natasha x G!P Reader
Warnings: NOT PROOF READ also Drug use!
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
Avenger Lane Chapter Six: Part 2 "My Head Is Spinning Like A Screw"
“This is so much better than Painting with a twist.” Natasha grinned as you both shot through a balloon of red paint causing it to splatter across the white walls.
“Definitely.” You say, taking in the painting you both just made.
“It’s a heart.” She kinked her brow with the sweetest smile.
You turn to her and just smile, and she smiles back.
“What?” She’s red and laughing bashfully.
“Take another photo with me?” You lift your phone up gesturing for a photo. “Of course.” She says, rolling her eyes as if to tell you no need to ask.
You know this woman is something special. You know this could be a slippery slope. Quinn doesn’t like her, the kiss didn’t help, and you really don't wanna dwell on it right now. Which lets you know this friendship could be a disaster, but for the first time in a long time you’re looking forward to things.
You set your camera down after setting up the shot.
“Come on.” You say, taking her hand, angling her where you needed her. “Take aim.”
You stood next to her to give the illusion you were shooting with a gun as well.
“Nice.” You grin showing her the finished product.
“I love it.” She nudged you with her shoulder.
“I got another idea.”
“Well what is it?” She huffed.
You set the phone on a table in front of her, getting a white wall in shot. “Make it look like you’re shooting someone.”
She nods and you both agree the shot is perfect. You move in front of the heart and have her take the picture.
“Never really behind the camera.” She grins, happily taking the phone. You teach her how to use the settings to her advantage with the shot.
She takes a bunch of red paint and smears it across your chest then lifts the black paint placing some in the middle forming the heart shaped hole.
“Brilliant Natasha, simply brilliant.” You joke.
“Go pose like you just got your heart broken.”
You do a few poses before she sets the timer and joins you.
“What should we-“
Before you could finish Natasha kissed you. It’s firm but still soft? Almost tender in a way.
“Yup that works too I guess.” You manage to say when she parts your lips stepping back.
“It’s for the shot dorogoy; what’s another kiss between friends?” She winks.
“What does dorogoy mean?” You chuckled as she turned and began messing with other crazy tools to paint with.
“It’s what you are… plus it rolls off the tongue better than ocharovatel'nyy.”
“Not gonna tell me huh?” You kink your brow. “Have it your way then Romanoff.” You take off your plastic gloves the painting place you were at gave you. “Hey Siri, what does the Russian word ocharovatel'nyy mean?”
Natasha furrowed her brows at the way you did an impression of a Russian almost perfectly even though you were totally joking.
‘It means Charming, enchanting, captivating.’
You made a smug face.
“Hey Siri, what does Dorogoy mean?”
‘It means darling, dear, precious.’
“Aww Natty!” You smile bashfully..
“I need a drink.” Natasha rolled her eyes blowing a raspberry at you.
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“I’ll go get us a drink. What would you like?” You ask as she sits down.
“I’ll have a raspberry martini.”
“Got it.” You make your way to the bar and place your order.
“Well, well, well, aren’t you a cutie.” A woman smirked at you. You could tell she’s had a few especially when she places her hand on your bicep.
Natasha frowned at the woman who was becoming handsy with you at the bar. She sat tensely gripping the table.
“Oh, no… sorry I’m married.” You chuckled, taking her hands off of you.
“Good thing I know how to keep a secret.” The woman smirked, pressing herself right back up against you.
“Oh wow. Uhh-“ you look around for Natasha when a sudden flash of red enters your line of vision.
“Hey!” The woman was suddenly shoved away from you and Natasha took your lips against hers.
Your hands automatically going to her hips bringing her flush against you. Her hands are cupping your face. You hummed in the kiss as she bit your lip.
She pulled back and you both slowly opened your eyes. Her hands are still cupping your face and your hands are still gripping her hips. You had half a mind to lean back down to kiss those plump lips again, but the sounds of cheering around the bar brought you back down to reality.
You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact and looking over at the restroom.
“I’ll be right back.” You swallow thickly just as the bartender sets your drinks down.
She nods, stepping aside. Blowing out the air she didn’t know she was holding as she watched you walk away.
“Fuck.” She mutters to herself looking up at the ceiling. She turns towards her drink before taking a sip.
You exited the bathroom you couldn’t have been in for more than 3 minutes. Only to come back seeing some guy grabbing Natasha.
You were gonna kick his ass. You were so ready to pummel this guy for grabbing Nat in that way. You in your anger forgot Natasha can always handle herself mid way of saying “Hey!” Natasha twisted his arm slamming him into the bar.
The bar gasped as the music stopped. The bouncers grabbed the guy and threw him out.
“I told you I can handle myself.” She smirked at you.
“I was just gonna warn him.” You shrug back with a smirk while taking your drink.
“You’ve gotta catch up.” She smirked. Her drink was long gone.
You laughed as she chanted ‘chug, chug, chug!’
She smiles, chuckling as she nudges you as you look around the bar. “I’m hungry again.”
“I better feed you before midnight then.” You grinned, looking down at her as you led her towards the exit.
“I’m not a gremlin.” She snorted, elbowing you.
“Ehh debatable.”
“Your wife is a badass.” The bouncer smirked, opening the door for you.
“Oh, I’m-“ Natasha blushed looking over at you.
You just grinned at her and said “Hell yeah she is.” Pecking her temple. Causing the redhead to blush.
You both hustle across the street towards the pizza joint.
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“Fuck me this is good.” You moaned while taking a bite.
“Let’s finish the date first.” Natasha smirked with a wink.
“Ha ha.”
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier by kissing you. I just noticed how uncomfortable you were with the way she was touching you. I shouldn’t hav-
“Oh no apologies necessary. Homegirl wouldn’t take a hint.”
“You’re better than a midnight PB Sammy.” You grinned lazily.
“You’re drunk.” She chuckled pointing at your expression.
“And a little high.” You cackled.
“How?” She furrowed her brows.
You held up Quinn’s pen with an evil smile.
“Oh she’s gonna be so upset with you.” She chuckled, covering her mouth.
“She doesn’t deserve this with how she’s been acting today. Maybe I should have waited and talked it over with her first, but I’m married to her. We’ve been together since high school. We have a daughter who is in her tweens and another who is about to be 3. I mean-“ you exasperated dropping your slice. “I mean when is it enough? Ya know?”
Natasha who's been steadily listening and staring deep into your soul, nods and reaches over the table for your hand squeezing. “Of course.”
“Sorry I don’t wanna-“
“No apologies necessary, homegirl was out of line.” Natasha smirked with a wink piggy backing off your earlier statement.
You chuckled.
“Okay I think I’m ready to get high.” Nat says after a beat.
“Really?” You ask a little taken back.
“Yeah why not.” She shrugged.
“Alright.” You chuckled while whipping out your phone. You quickly sent out a text and received a response just as quickly. “You done?”
Natasha looks down at her second half eaten slice. “I can’t finish it.”
“Let’s go.” You grinned, taking her slice and eating it as you walked out.
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“Y/L/N!” A short curly haired woman exclaimed as she opened her door, opening her arms.
“Hey Ilana!” You grinned.
“Ugh, long time no see! Come on in! Take a seat, I'll grab the goods.”
You gesture for Nat to follow you in. You take a seat with Natasha as Ilana talks to you.
“Dude when I got your text I was like ‘whaaaaat it’s not re-up time yet’. Plus normally Brittany just comes over and picks up for you guys.”
“Yeah we were in the neighborhood for a friend, and oh so rude of me this is Natasha.”
“Hi Natasha, I’m Ilana.” The curly haired girl said walking in with a large suitcase.
“Nat, here wants to smoke for the first time so I figured I’d get her something fresh.”
“Oh sweet! Hey one free purple flurp joint on the house just for you. Welcome to the stoner life.” The brunette laughed, handing Natasha a small plastic tube. “Wouldn’t open that until you're ready to smoke.” She turned away from you both as she set the suitcase on the coffee table.
“Thank you.” Natasha smiled.
“Of course! How’s life in suburbia going for ya dawgman?” Ilana asked.
“Lovin’ it so far.”
“I don’t think I could ever leave the city.” Ilana says in thought as you pick out a few items.
“I’ll take this.” You say taking out your phone to send her money.
“Awesome my dudes I’d offer for you to stay and smoke with me but she’s not ready for the big dawgs yet.” Ilana laughed along with you.
You both say goodbye and you're out the door.
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“Okay so if we’re gonna do this we’re gonna do this right.” You grinned at Natasha setting the goods and snacks down before moving the cushions off the sofa.
“What are you-“
“Trust me you’re not gonna be able to walk after this.”
“That’s what she said.” She smirked, leaning against the back of the couch.
You laughed, throwing your head back. Natasha grabs the other side of the sheet and helps you make a bed.
“I take it you and Quinn do this often?” She asks as you throw the pillows on the bed.
“Every once in a while.” You shrug.
“Oh by the way, where are the girls?”
“They’re at a sleepover at Morgan’s.”
“Oh right I did hear Lila talking about it yesterday.”
“Alright this movie is perfect for high times.” You grinned lifting up Fast Times at Ridgemont High.
You slip the dvd in and light up the joint Ilana gave Nat. You look at the snacks on the bed, the tray of water and other drinks. You inhale getting it to the sweet spot.
“Alright gingersnap you ready?” You smile lazily holding out the joint.
She nods, taking the joint.
“Slowly inhale and hold it for as long as you can.”
Natasha began inhaling and lasted all but 15 seconds before she began coughing. You took the joint as she keeled over coughing in her arm.
“Oh my God! My throat is burning.”
You hand her a bottle of water and she takes a few gulps. She inhaled and sighed, laying against the upright pillows.
“How ya feelin’?”
“Like I’m floating on a cloud.” She smiled lazily.
“Nice.” You chuckled, grabbing the remote and starting the movie as you took another drag. You reached over, handing it back to Nat.
30 minutes later
“How are you feeling?” You asked with a side grin.
“Did you say something?” Nat asks softly, turning her head towards you. Her eyes were glassy and red.
“I asked how you’re feeling?” You laughed.
“I’m good. Pretty snacky actually.” She smiled bashfully.
You point towards the snacks.
“I recommend you start with sour sweet tarts and work your way up to the chips. Ooooor just throw caution to the wind and I can make us Mac & Cheese bites.”
“But then you’ll have to leave.” Natasha Furrowed her brow.
“It’ll take like 10 minutes.” You chuckled.
“I can’t follow you if something happens.”
“What’s going to happen, stony bologna?”
She shrugged truthfully she just didn’t want you to leave her.
“I’ll be back after I pop them in the air fryer.” You grinned, booping her nose.
You were turning on the air fryer when Ilana sent your money back to you with a note saying.
DUDE, I HAD NO IDEA PLEASE DON'T HATE ME AFTER I TELL YOU THIS. QUINN CAME BY-
“Oh shit.” You sighed, you really didn’t want to finish reading the note.
AND I TOLD HER YOU WERE HERE WITH NAT. SHE LOST IT-“
2 New Messages
You sigh looking at a new message from your wife.
“You’re smoking with her in our home? Something special we do together?!”
You sigh, placing your phone back in your short pocket. Before taking the mac and cheese bites out for you and Nat.
“There you are.” She smiled.
“I’m back.” You grin sitting down on the bed. “Alright Nat try these out!”
She takes it dipping it in some ranch.
“Holy mother of- My sister is going to freak out when she tries these.”
You chuckled while eating as you watched the movie.
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“Okay how do you feel and what did you think?”
“I definitely didn’t enjoy the paranoia or the anxiety, but on the other hand you also calmed me down. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. Also the food oh my gosh. I kind of wanna know how caviar tastes after.”
“You’re boujee as hell.” You chuckled, making her laugh. “So how are things with Bruce? haven’t seen him since Tony’s kickback.” You remark.
“Oh he’s here just holed up in his lab at Stark Industries.”
“Ah.” You nod.
“I’ve noticed Quinn’s been coming home a little later.”
“Yeah she said she’ll make a better effort to work from home.”
“Did I see you teaching Beth how to play guitar the other day?”
“Yeah she said she’s ready to learn. So I’ve been teaching her and Quinn’s been teaching her piano.”
“You guys have a piano?” She furrowed her brows.
“Yeah Quinn’s mother gave her their family mini grand piano.
“Okay play me something.”
“Like what?”
“Something that you wanna play.”
“Wanna sing with me?”
“What song are you going to play?”
“How about a little U2?” You grinned as you began strumming your guitar Natasha smiled instantly knowing the song.
“I have climbed highest mountains”
Natasha blushed when your head popped up in surprise. You didn’t know what to expect but her voice sounds like velvet.
“I have run through the fields
Only to be with you”
You couldn't help but stare at her as she sang. She was so alluring. She’s a siren and you’re the sailor falling into the depths of the sea.
“Only to be with you, but I still haven't found what I'm looking for”
She kinked her brow with a small smirk signaling you to join in.
“I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”
“But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”
“I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire”
“I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
But yes I'm still running
You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Oh my shame
You know I believe it
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”
“You’ve been hiding that voice Nat.” You smirked.
“So have you.” She smirked back before sitting next to you. “Teach me.”
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Natasha blinked awake hearing your muffled voice. It was dark so she couldn’t have been asleep long. She lifts her phone. It's 3 AM.
“You’re drunk.”
Natasha’s head turned towards your muffled voice. You were out on the back patio.
“Quinn, I'm not doing this with you right now.”
“Of course.” Natasha, sighed with a roll of her eyes as she sat up.
“Rachel, please make her eat something and sleep it off. I know Santana and Brittany won’t do it… Thanks.” You set your phone down and stared in silence before lifting up your guitar.
“Darling, don't you understand
That there are no winners
Metals rung from silken strands
To greet you at the finish
As we're dissolving into the sea
I can only take what I can carry
The counsel's combing through our debris
The treasures we never buried
My love, why do you run?
For my hands hold no guns
Darling, though you may pretend
Pretend that you are selfless
You break with but the slightest bend
It leaves you lost and helpless
So to whom will you place the call
In the coldest night of winter?
Cause numbers change and people fall
And friends they always splinter
My love, why do you run?
For my hands hold no guns
My love, why do you run?
For my hands hold no guns
They hold no guns
No, not a one”
You almost jump out of your skin when the door opens.
“Hey.” Natasha says softly sitting next to you.
“Hi.” You say softly, almost a whisper. You felt the Russian beauty pull you into her side holding you close.
You sighed against her, your patience was wearing thin with Quinn.
Suddenly Natasha stuffed a joint in your mouth and lit it up for you. You couldn’t help but laugh causing her to laugh too.
Your laughter faded out as you both passed a joint. Just the steady sounds of breathing and crickets.
“You know you’re pretty amazing right?” Natasha breaks the silence holding the joint for you to take.
“Stahp it.” You chuckle before inhaling. You pass it back but she shakes her head looking at you. You shrug and place it between your lips.
“You are, and your wife should count her lucky stars to call you her partner.” Your eyes widen a bit. “Or husband, or wife, I don't know what you prefer.” She mutters now a little embarrassed for having worn her heart on her sleeve.
“Thanks Nat.” You put the joint down and pull her into your side.
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Natasha was the first to fall asleep and she was the first to wake up. She blinked awake only to find your arms and legs entangled.
She could hear your soft snores against the back of her neck. She couldn’t help but smile to herself. She was totally going to tease you about that later. Is this what it feels like waking up with you? If so sign her the fuck up. She turned her head back only to feel you bring her closer; too afraid to move and wake you, she stays put. Letting herself enjoy this time with you falling back asleep.
She wakes up an hour later to the smell of bacon. She smiles smelling bacon and coffee. She sits up quietly going to the bathroom to freshen up before making her way to the kitchen.
“Good morning, starshine the Earth says hello!” You grinned, placing her breakfast on a plate and placing it on the table. You grab one of your favorite mugs and hand it to her.
“Good morning, sunshine! This all looks delicious.” She smiles, taking the mug and pouring herself some coffee.
You both sat down to eat when she spoke up a few beats later.
“Has Quinn reached out?”
“Not this morning. She’s probably still sleeping it off, or Berry is waking her up. She wakes up at the ass crack of dawn no matter what.”
“What are you going to say to her?” Natasha asks.
“Honestly I don’t know.” You sighed. “I’m hoping Santana slapped some sense into her.”
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“So…Why are you mad at Y/N again?” Santana questioned, furrowing her brow as she walked through the market isles.
“Are you kidding me? You were right there! You saw them! She kissed our neighbor.” Quinn grit arms folded as she scanned the shelves.
“Wait.” Santana stopped the cart turning back to scowl.
“You’re still upset about what happened? It was for the photoshoot Quinn! She kissed Brittany and myself as well.”
“It’s just you two, it meant nothing.”
“Exactly just like it meant nothing with Nat.”
“Not you too.” Quinn muttered looking at her best friend with betrayal.
“Oh stop it. You’re my best friend, Nat is nice and kind of a badass. Did you know she knows Krav Maga?”
“I’m so sick of her. The girls adore her, Y/N is smitten, and now she’s taking my best friend away.”
The latina walked over to her friend laying her hands on her shoulders. “You’re just feeling a little threatened. Just remember she’s just a friend, she’s married, and Y/N would never cheat on you.”
“She made out with her, Santana.”
“Quinn… you know damn well it wasn’t like that.”
“I just feel like they’re into one another.”
“You thought that about Sersi too.”
“This is different.” Quinn shook her head.
“How?” Santana rolled her eyes going back to pushing the cart. “You’ve always been overly jealous of anyone that gets close to Y/N.”
“No I don-”
Santana whipped around. “Bitch stop lying.”
“I mean I’m not like that anymore! It’s different between them, I just can't explain it.” Quinn shook her head inhaling deeply.
“Stop being paranoid Quinn, and go home to your Hife before she becomes your Wusband.”
“She’s the one that kissed her!” Quinn glared.
“For the photoshoot! My God you sound like a broken record, get over it already.” Santana stopped and turned. “I am telling you as your best friend if you keep going down this road you’re going to lose Y/N.”
Quinn gulped watching her best friend walk away.
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“It's so beautiful out today.” Natasha smiles as a butterfly lands on the kitchen window.
“Yeah it is.” You grinned wiping your hands on the dish towel before handing it to Natasha.
“Wanna go for a ride?” She smirked at you.
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“No, no, no, not again.” Natasha huffs trying to turn on her bike. She rolled her eyes she just wanted to go for a ride with you. Her legs begin dragging herself over to your house. She knows what she’s starting to feel is getting borderline dangerous. Ever since the kiss you shared. Natasha has not stopped thinking about it and you. The way your hands gripped her hips, the way your tongue out of habit lightly tapped against her lips. She has this urge to see you, to spend time with you, to get to know you. The Russian beauty wasn’t even aware she knocked until you opened the door.
“Hey.” You grinned toothbrush in your mouth,still wearing boxer briefs and a tank. “Am I late?”
“I probably should have just texted you.” Natasha mutters looking at your body.
You shook your head waving her concerns away.
Natasha can’t help but look you up and down subtly. She ached at the sight of your bulge, even flaccid it’s still big. Oh how she longed to feel you stretch her out. How can one look this sexy wearing briefs and a tank? She swore she could see your abs through that white tank.
“Come on in.” You mumbled beneath the toothbrush. “I’m just gonna.” She watches you rush upstairs letting the breath she’s been holding out.
She’s internally giving herself a speech about backing off, and remembering you two are only friends. You’re married. She’s brought back when you call out her name.
“Ready?” You grinned coming down the stairs in the same tank, but with jeans on this time.
“My bike is acting up, but-“
“I’ll look at it.” You winked as you put your shoes on.
You both make your way outside.
“So what’s wrong with my side piece?” You smirked lightly, running a few fingers down the back.
“Side piece?” She snorted at you.
“Yeah since Quinn hates me on these things and I can’t have one.”
Natasha stared at you brows furrowed before shaking her head chuckling.
“So what’s wrong with her?” You asked, opening the cover of the engine.
“I’m not too sure.”
“Okay well I just need to sex her up a bit figure out where she’s hurting?”
“Sex her up?” She smirked once again, furrowing her eyebrows at you.
“Yeah you know.” You gripped the back of the bike lining it up with your pelvis before you thrusted.
“Oh my God.” Natasha muttered rolling her eyes at you.
“Give her a little caress here a rub here.” You acted as if you were making love to the motorcycle.
“Wha- what is this?” Suddenly Tony Stark was right next to you.
You and Nat began laughing hysterically.
“Y/N was just-“
“Trying to make her purr.” You winked at the older man who began laughing as well.
“I like the way you think, Y/N.” Tony chuckled, leaning over to see the engine as well.
“Where are my girls?” You asked
“They’re all having a Crash Bandicoot marathon.” He waved you off.
Soon you were both looking at the bike when you announced its diagnosis. Tony looked a little surprised he didn’t even notice the tiny crack on her fuel pump.
“Great.” Natasha sighed.
“Hey, come on now gingersnap, cheer up, I can fix it.” You chuckled taking it apart.
Tony’s brows raised at the pink hue that appeared on the Russians cheeks.
“You’ve got welding supplies, and Nat’s not murdering you right now for calling her that?” Tony looked shocked.
You grinned not looking at either of them, but at the part as you cleaned it with a rag. “I’ll be back in 10.” You look up seeing Tony still flabbergasted, and your neighbor rolling her eyes at him.
“Can I join you?” Tony asked suddenly.
“We.” Natasha corrected him.
“Sure.” You chuckled leading them to your backyard shed.
“You garden too?” Tony raised his brow.
“It’s relaxing and I like watching them grow.” You shrugged. “Plus it helps me spend time with my kids.”
You set up your equipment and set your gloves and mask on before starting.
“Okay I get it now.” Tony nudges Natasha.
“What do you mean?” She asks, not wanting to take her eyes off your muscles as you fix something for her. God she really wishes Tony wasn’t here, and you’d just hoist her up on your bench, and fuck the living daylights out of her. She wants to be completely ruined by you.
“You didn’t come to me cause you want the new resident hottie to fix it. Hurts my ego a bit, but I totally get it now.”
“Shut up. She’s closer and doesn’t annoy me the way you do.” She smirked.
“Hmhm sure.” He chuckled. “You know I thought Wanda was just exaggerating.”
“Stop.”
“I get it she’s a smoke show. The total package. Especially when compared to Bruce.”
“There is no comparison.”
“You’re right it wouldn’t be fair. Y/N is miles ahead.” He smirked at her. She had yet to peel her eyes off of you. “Speaking of Bruce he… talk with you yet?”
“You keep asking me that. What is he supposed to talk to me about?” She says turning towards him wondering if he’d tell her.
“Just about his trip.” Tony said, looking away from her to you as you continued welding.
“Just said it went well.” She shrugged.
“Hmm, I’m sure it did.” He muttered, crossing his arms.
“Alright let’s put this bad girl on.” You grinned, taking off your mask and gloves.
“Bruce, mentioned you were supposed to go to MIT. What happened?!” Tony asked suddenly
“I don’t know man, I had a list of extracurriculars, my own father was an alumnus. Really thought I was a shoo in, but I guess not.” You shrugged as you all walked back to Natasha’s bike.
“Your father went? What’s his name?” He asked.
“He goes by Frank Y/L/N.” You kinked your brow.
“Frankie Y/L/N is your father?” He stopped you.
“Yeah.” You chuckled.
“Hold on.” He sprinted across the street.
“Uhh where is he going? Should I follow him?”
“Nope but you can fix my bike.” Natasha smirked.
“Brat.” You chuckled going back to the task at hand.
“Ugh, I am not a brat.” She huffed.
“Ehh.” You made a face.
“Ass.” She laughed, shoving your shoulder.
“Now you’re a brat and a half.”
“You did not just call me that.” She glared remembering her first encounter with you when you called your wife a brat and a half.
“Oh I think I just did and oh here it comes again brat and a half!” You smirked.
“I hate you.” She grumbled, biting her lip to keep from smiling.
“No you don’t.” You grinned.
“I don’t.” She shook her head.
Tony ran up just as you finished reinstalling her fuel pump.
“Oh well look at that I finished it while you were off at home.” You chuckled standing up.
“Look at this.” He ignored your comment, shoving a photo in your hands.
“That’s my pops.” You chuckled seeing a younger version of your father's arm around Tony’s neck. “You went to school with my dad?”
“I did.” He chuckled. “Your old man was very smart, very cool, and had a mean left hook. Our fraternity would go out and watch your father beat someone’s ass every Friday night.”
“It was how he paid for everything that his scholarship wouldn’t cover.” You explained staring at your father.
“Y/N, I’m not trying to upset you, but there’s no way you would have been rejected.”
“Well I was.” You said coldly.
Tony just didn’t understand how someone like you would get rejected. Tony and his father were board members; there's no way they would have rejected you, especially with your fathers name on the application.
“What did they tell you? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“That I just wasn’t what they wanted. I didn’t have the grades or the wherewithal.”
“Well I’m sorry you didn’t get to go, but I could really use someone of your caliber at my company. I hate talking about business and semantics.” He handed you a card with Peppers name on it. “Please call Peps when you get a chance. I need you on my team and if you don’t call I’ll have her call you. Anyway I better get going. Pepper wants me to grab dinner before she gets home. Oh we got your invitation to Finley’s birthday. We’ll be there!” He said walking backwards before turning and running across the street.
“Wow, you just got a job without doing anything.” Natasha grinned.
“I don’t know.” You say uneasy.
“What do you mean? You love building things Y/N. This is it! You’d get to work with other engineers and build stuff that could make a difference.”
“But what about the kids?” You say.
“Well you said school starts soon.”
“For Beth not Fin.”
“I can help.” Natasha shrugged. “I love that little girl, I wouldn't mind.”
“What about Quinn?”
“What about her?”
“She has a full time job she-“
“Y/N, I’m saying this as your friend, stop finding excuses. This is your dream and it’s actually happening. Quinn will just have to step it up because if she truly loves you she'll do anything to help you succeed. Just like you did with her.”
“I take back my brat and a half comment.” You say with a small smile.
“Yeah you better.” She chuckled, as you brought her in a hug.
“Thanks Nat, you’re right. Where have you been all my life?” You grinned, she was beginning to be your constant voice of reason.
Waiting for you to find me. Natasha thought to herself instead she settled with a bashful shrug.
“So will you tell Quinn and call Pepper?” Natasha raised her brow.
“I will.” You nodded.
Natasha cheered, throwing her arms up and bringing you in a hug. After a moment she pulled back a bit, arms still dangling from your neck.
“Come on, let's go on a ride to celebrate.” She grinned before getting on the bike. You placed your helmet on before getting behind her.
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“Oh shit.” Natasha muttered.
“What? Oh. Shit.” You repeated as she stopped the bike in the driveway
The ride was just what you both needed; however you did not expect to see your wife standing with her arms folded on the patio.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#quinn fabray x reader#quinn fabray x y/n#avenger lane
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Trigun Stampede - Episode 9 Millions Knives - ‘Cause Knives needs awkward backstory as well
This week’s episode decides to compress things even further by making part of the flashback a shared one for both Vash and Knives. Stampede is leaning in hard to the hyper intelligent virtuoso trope for Knives with him playing a large piano that has inverted key colors.
His hairstyle and clothing indicate that this is the continuation of the flashback that Vash started in episode eight but we are getting it from his point of view. As he plays he thinks back to his childhood where Vash joins him at the piano. Vash seems to be really enjoying it, but young Nai is not thrilled.
Honestly, could he have been even more grumpy when he was a kid? I get that they are different individuals and have different temperaments but this version from Studio Orange makes the contrast even greater than in the manga.
They do play together, but since we don’t get to see Nai’s expression with the camera angle from behind can we tell if he actually is enjoying it as much as Vash? In all of their interactions, it seems like Nai simply tolerates Vash’s existence - like he’d be fine without a twin brother.
The flashback in a flashback returns to the first one and a much younger version of Conrad enters telling Knives that he got something for him.
This is a completely new version of Conrad as his original design was always older and bald in the manga. An alarm sounds and they end up moving to the large bay with rows and rows and rows of plants. Knives is visibly angry as he asks what is going on. Conrad calmly replies that they’ve hit their production limit.
As was the case in Trigun Maximum, they force the plants through their ‘last run’ where they overdrive them to death. However, unlike the manga, there has been no discussion on the physiological changes that indicate plant aging with their hair turning black yet. Knives is not happy and a weird black ash floats through the air as Conrad apologizes to Knives on the behalf of all humanity.
And it is perfect timing as the plant whisperer, Vash has appeared. Knives takes this as his opportunity to prove to Vash that he’s right in regard to everything (I guess based on his immediate need to boss Vash around).
More humans show up and try to get Knives to leave which is just a weird set up. They said he wasn’t supposed to be there, Vash somehow just strolled into their crashed ship. You aren’t doing a good job of controlling access copy paste humans who see plants as tools. Conrad just awkwardly stands there telling them to not take Knives away.
What is this entire situation? I’m not confused but it seems so forced. So forced because we need to create tension between passive Vash and aggressive Knives.
With the literal interpretation of his name, he creates claws to kill a bunch of the copy paste men while Conrad and Vash watch. Vash asks Nai to stop and he replies no one has called him that in a long time. Is five years really that long of a time though?
Why is Vash standing there? Murder happened and he’s politely asking Nai to stop. This allows for the underwhelming reveal that Nai has rebranded himself as Millions Knives. He is the self appointed leader and only independently associated plant. Wow, that’s some interesting thought there Knives but how do we know if you are honestly the envoy for all the plants or you are simply stating this without support.
We have heard no input from the plants at this point and lacking that information, I’m going to state that this younger version of Knives decided he’s the plants autocratic leader acting on ‘behalf’ of them.
Vash innocently asks why Knives had to kill people and finally gets more emotional when he reminds Knives that Rem sacrificed herself to save them.
Knives then reveals that Rem messed up his original plans - he’d intended to destroy all of the ships with humans and only save the ships that had plants . . . however, I’m sure he told himself the sacrifices of the plants on the human ships was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of plantdom.
So Knives solution is to create a paradise for Vash and himself and the rest of the plants stuck in their containers?
Vash sort of argues back with a fact that Rem told them that plants can’t live outside of the plants and without a place to move their energy to without self-destructing. Knives counters that Vash bought into ‘that’ so he thinks otherwise as a free ranging independent plant. We don’t know enough about these plants in Stampede to know if that is a lie that Rem told them or the truth. In the manga it is a fact that the regular plants can’t survive without being connected to something as shown through the awkward interaction with the plants that fell out of Knives’ ark and needed human assistance to ‘plug’ back into the grid to prevent them from dying outright.
Either way, Vash continues to passively stand there as Knives explains his agenda to free their brethren and use his power as a free plant. Before proceeding to kill a bunch more copy paste guys with his very Wolverine inspired claws. He wants nothing more for Vash to be his partner in human murder and plant liberation, but Knives really needs to work on his power of persuasion. Seriously dude, you can’t just tell someone what to do when they are your equal.
He takes a small gun from one of the men he killed and prefaces it in a rather religious tone stating that it is the weapon of a Sinner and it is evil. Certainly, loaded Christian-ish language but again simple external dressing as far as wel can tell at the moment in this version of Trigun.
We can all see where this is going . . . since Vash won’t kill humans up close and personal like Knives, he’s going to give the gun to him because even someone as weak and docile as Vash can fire a gun. And to add to it, he has to insult Vash calling him a human-lover. And with our perfect timing, Luida shows up to tell Vash that she’s here to take him home.
Confirmed, in this version she is not a middle-aged leader of the humans who haven’t fallen and could put all of the men on the surface in their place. She’s Rem 2.0! There is no need for strong female characters here. Knives immediately decides that what Vash needs to do is to kill her. He looks down at the firearm in horror.
We know that Vash can’t shoot her. Knives you need to work harder at winning the hearts of others. He takes the gun for Vash, gaslights him to the core stating he has to do everything for his brother and approaches Luida to kill her. Vash finally snaps and tackles him. We finally get some honest Vash emotions and guilt. He confesses that he always stood behind Rem and she was the one who always protected him, but he lost her in the end. He decides that Nai isn’t going to take anyone else away from him, but gets tossed off to the side either way.
Knives then calls Luida as witch before declaring his question of how many times you will steal him from me? Wow - got a weird mother complex much Knives?
Any woman who cares for Vash is the same person and you have to fight her influence? Does this imply there were more ladies besides Rem and Luida? What is going on with this characterization of Knives?
Anyhoo, as Knives tries to choke Luida, Vash becomes upset yelling for him to start before he activates his angel arm power - which is a black hole?
And soon as this happened, everyone knew what would happen next. Knives is gonna have to cut off that left arm. . . .
Knives calls him a fool, Conrad hesitantly asks if it is a gate and it starts to suck in everything around it. As totally expected, Knives quickly cuts off the arm which gets sucked into the black hole before it eats itself eliminating the danger.
Luida tries to help him as Knives approaches not wanting to have him touched by her. But shockingly, it is Vash who pulls the gun on Knives. And we get our first serious look from Vash!
Knives has no choice but to back off and he leaves with Conrad declaring that in a century or so, he’ll create his world for the plants. Luida screams over his passed out body as the flashback fades to the present where Vash is looking at his prosthetic arm. Brad comes in and gives him grief about always having to repair the arm.
Of course Vash can’t help but note that Brad has never changed all these years, well other than his obvious aging. Luida welcomes him back home as he asks about his friends who are all ‘thrilled’ to see him. Though Wolfwood tries to pretend like they aren’t friends. While chewing on a cigarette.
Vash is relieved and excited as it reveals that of course the ship was hiding in the sandstorm as Zazie’s insects zero in on their location!
Confirmed - no puppet master arc with rampant civilian deaths to be replaced by puppets that fall apart in Vash’s arms.
I’m also disappointed that this avoids the division between those on the uncrashed ship and those on the surface. The anime and manga tackled it differently but both highlighted the fact that those on the surface were seen as brutish, unrefined, less civilized than those on the ship - by those on the ship. This entire power dynamic/bias is gone for the moment.
Meryl asks if plants are powering the ship and Luida takes her and Roberto to the large internal garden. The visual looks very nice and they are excited to see such greenery. But the part that then kills me is the fact that Meryl - doesn’t know what plants are - as in the photosynthetic kind!!!
Why does a straight A student who graduated university not know about plants? Many other aspects of technology and human knowledge are known by people on the planet but humanity has collectively forgotten about - plants?
Whaaaatttt??? Okay, this is the point where my day job really makes me wonder what on earth Studio Orange’s writers were (or weren’t) thinking. In the original manga, there are plants on the planet that have been cultivated by very hard working humans. It is difficult, but the entire Little Arcadia arc was about how a part of a geoplant = part of a plant that helped to terraform, had ‘leaked’ out into the environment and was being carefully cultivated for farming and a green space. Therefore, this entire aspect of things is no longer a part of the science. This causes a huge problem in the sci fi aspect of Stampede. We know that plants help to capture potable water. They produce electricity. They create nutrients for agriculture.
A common item found in all versions of Trigun is alcohol. You need grains to brew beer, distill spirits and the like. Stampede is telling us that all of that booze we saw in the beginning is produced by something other than grains? On a large enough scale that you can bottle it, and consume it? I could see that the production of it would have been difficult in the original series, but we have pancakes, pizza, donuts, coffee, tea and all of these common food items implying that there is some version of the agricultural industrial complex in the Trigun world but in Stampede - we don’t have agriculture? This is about as bad as the ship that crashed, didn’t have a plant, had windmills and NO solar panels to use on less windy days!
The science in this sci fi series is killing me. As soon as you think about it for more than five seconds your brain goes -ack- at this poor writing. I know the mechanics of many things in Trigun Maximum are hand wavy at best but at least it kept it consistent.
Luida is there to tell Roberto that they are using plants to power the garden but by having regular plants there, they are able to lessen the burden on the plants - not sure how that works since if anyone has ever worked with plants in a growth chamber or greenhouse the amount of energy that goes into it is massive.
You need your swamp coolers, shade cloth, LED or high powered lights, temperature controller, pest control and what about the pollinators for those plants? Are they all self-compatible? I’m falling down my own rabbit hole of my own making over this aspect of the episode. Where is the greenhouse staff? Who is taking care of them?
Okay, I’m taking a step back from my legitimate day job concerns with this and moving onto the scene I predicted from either my episode one or two review. The famous ‘sempai noticed me!’
Roberto tries to smoke and Luida tells him not to which results in his request of Meryl.
That’s right, he’s no longer calling her newbie, she’s now Meryl, but she still needs to do something for him as the junior colleague. She first replies before realizing it, excitedly runs up to him and asks if he indeed called her by her name. Entire plot trope status - achieved.
The entire interaction plays out where he denies it, she presses him and Luida just smiles like “Oh what a genuine interaction.”
While they are in the garden dome, we see Wolfwood sulking in a corner asking Vash what he’s going to do about Knives. Noting that he likely, can’t just make up with him. Vash insists he’ll save anyone and Wolfwood parries back that he can’t do that and he will have to make a choice.
Vash is more intent to not kill - adding he’ll never do it again. This implies that there was an incident where he did end up killing. Our non-July-July incident of the past 150 years? What else happened - since so far we don’t have anything to go on for Vash’s own past mistakes.
Interestingly, since Brad is now older and wiser, he’s able to shut Wolfwood down immediately, but not after trying to connect with him stating that he was similar in his own youth. Wolfwood tries to argue that the old man is wrong, but Brad simply states that Vash is tough if Wolfwood would simply watch him over time.
Luida meekly stumbles into the room to inform them that Worms busted in and kidnapped Meryl and Roberto. Her emotions are so off in this entire scene, I get that she’s older but she didn’t run to them or use a phone to call them. Instead, she leads them back to the dome and Wolfwood is able to state that Zazie the Beast is the one who took them.
They way up in another generic looking room as Zazie welcomes them to July, which is the crashed plant carrying ship. Meryl asks if they’d met before and Zazie replies not in the current form.
Roberto asks if Zazie is there on behalf of Knives but instead states they are trying to determine which side to work with.
Roberto then shoots Zazie, who disperses into individual worms before reforming their body on the other side explaining it is a conduit. Therefore, unlike the original where Zazie used a worm to control an individual human body, which could be shot and killed and then move their consciousness to another human body, it seems that Zazie is just a worm-llusion of sorts. This entire interaction is Zazie the Beast as our new info dump character. It this version it is Zazie who tells Roberto and Meryl how humans destroyed the Earth and therefore left it in search of new places to live. The worms are not happy since they see this as their own planet. Meryl doubts Zazie but I’m now concerned about her basic education . . . previous versions of Trigun had much more well educated people despite all of the challenges that they had to overcome.
While Zazie info dumps, Vash and Wolfwood are making their way to July via blue ostrich. Hopefully, the assistance from ship three made it easy for them to reach that point?
Meryl asks what the collected red plants are for, Conrad says they don’t need to know while Zazie asks who the planet is for? And ends.
The map showed them in the ship located over the sand ocean so they are getting closer to July. We can assume that they are back on more normal land, and heading to July.
This does sort of guarantee that all road lead to July, which Vash may blow up with - his still remaining right arm?
Basic thoughts on this episode.
1.) Everything continues to be completely generic and predictable. I know, I can’t be satisfied with this series. We can follow the plot beats, predict what will happen and then watch it limply be delivered. This series is failing to pull at my heartstrings. There is no weight to actions, there is no payoff. Everything is expose.
2.) Characters and their situations
Vash - was completely passive in the flashback until he unlocked his gate potential in his angel arm which was a black hole that sucked stuff in and had to be cut off by Knives. No angelic body horror aspects, black hole only. He pulled the gun on Knives, who simply gave up. I missed the whole Vash shooting Knives and then running off screaming like a madman in the ‘98 anime or how Knives cut off his arm and then left him to die in the desert tied to a rock bit. We do learn that he apparently has killed in the past though - which is in line with the manga - but that was the July incident.
Knives - is the self-proclaimed autocratic leader of the plants with a 150 year plan for plant domination of the planet. All women are evil and can seduce - or - mother Vash which is dangerous and they are all the same and must be stopped to save Vash. That is so many tropes rolled into one that I don’t even want to parse them all out. Knives - chill dude. Unless we get more background for his anger in Stampede, he rings hollow in his motivations.
Luida and Brad - look pretty good for adults 150 years ago. I’m going to read between the lines that the crew of ship three have been rotating on and off over the years with a skeleton crew and they are one of those shifts. It is just my opinion on the internet; I preferred their manga characters 1000x more than these old & wise individuals. This also feeds into the previous observations from others that what Stampede lacks are the general population. Guess the animation budget wasn’t meant for frontier towns of people going about their day to day lives.
Meryl and Roberto - had their predicted noticed by sempai moment.
Wolfwood - has entered the friend zone by him denying it. Yep, he’s now friends with Vash despite them still having zero chemistry as characters.
Zazie - continues to be crazy and isn’t the same as before which disappointed me more. The idea that a human body was a disposable host for the worm collective mind was clever and darker than being a collective of worms that appears human to interact with humans and plants.
Conrad - was stripped of his sexy balding man past and instead given hipster hair. He was already going bald when Rem talked to him about the twins.
3.) It was forced and awkward the entire episode. This entire series of events felt so stiff and unnatural. People stood around while very traumatic events happened like it was a normal day. The copy paste men ran in to be killed by Knives Wolverine X-men style. Conrad stood around. Vash stood around. Luida stood around. Where was the sense of motion and of overpowering emotions. Everything fell flat.
4.) Vash’s gate was activated by strong emotions. And then cut off by Knives. No putative angel arm in sight. This also has me wondering if we will even get the Tessla backstory or not. Episode eight had Luida trying to look up classified information about past independent plants but she couldn’t get it - yet knew that they existed . . . will there even be a flashback where Knives and Vash learn about Tessla or is that also gone? We really need a Tessla backstory for the Vash-Knives conflict and personal motivation. Vash is willing to forgive all humans in their wrongs while Knives uses their wrongs as his driving motivating factor in trying to destroy them and create his utopia for plants under his dictatorship.
5.) There are no Gung-ho Guns. Period. The concept is gone. This is not a western remember? This is sci fi. The lack of a general population of civilians also makes for the stakes to seem rather low - how many humans are actually living in the seven cities? How many are there to protect anyways? Why is their education system to bad? What do they eat without agriculture? There has been no explanation for any of this. Do the plants produce alcohol for bottling? Instant meal blocks? Cotton for clothing that the normal people are wearing? They can manufacture weapons for sure.
I will be controversial and state what this episode has me thinking about. Studio Orange has failed at world building. Too many basic concepts don’t make sense to superficially serve what are poorly written plot points in an episode. Yet when strung together don’t make any logical sense. You could argue the other versions of Trigun didn’t lean hard into the science aspect of things but everything made sense. People had animals for transport, the Thomases. They were able to farm if they worked hard. Not all towns required a plant to operate, they’d become more off the grid with other means. It was the fact that any larger place required plants. There was a functioning economic system of trade and currency to facilitate the production of goods and items. These things weren’t impossible in the anime and manga, but in Stampede they are impossible. Life was hard on the planet but the quality of living was indeed higher and those who kept themselves isolated on the uncrashed ship also had attitude to match.
I know it is an anime based on a manga, so we could say I’m being overly critical of these elements. But compared to the original anime and Trigun Maximum there was enough stuff in between that life wasn’t as bleak as in Stampede. The day to day logic held up and the world building was consistent with rules that applied to many of the basics. I can be totally fine with a bonkers set up - as long as you do a good job building that world and keeping your rules consistent throughout.
Lastly, Stampede has failed all of its female characters to date. At this point, we still have no idea what Rem taught Vash that he is hellbent on upholding her impossible ideals. Rem saved them. That’s it. Meryl is too young and inexperienced like her past version. Milly is absent. Luida has been destroyed from her previous leader position to Rem 2.0. Elendira hasn’t even done anything yet. Rosa was the only mother who didn’t get killed by Knives.
What’s worse is that we still have a predicted three more episodes to go with this version of Trigun with its paradoxical pacing! July go boom and then time skip? Three episodes left for that to happen . . .
I can already feel the siren song to go back to the source material for a better meta or even more so - slide on over to more Kekkai Sensen/Blood Blockade Battlefront which is much more my vibe. I’m itching to write up my spin on how Trigun influenced B3, a series with a sitcom style format. I need to write a meta about Meryl and Milly as Leonardo Watch and Klaus V Reinheirz.
#Trigun#trigun stampede#trigun anime#trigun maximum#trigun stampede meta#trigun stampede episode review#Vash the Stampede#millions knives#meryl stryfe#roberto deniro#luida leitner#brad#luida#zazie the beast#nicholas d. wolfwood#william conrad
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If you were asked to guess which prestigious film-making duo had spent their career scratching around desperately for cash, trying to wriggle out of paying their cast and crew, ping-ponging between lovers, and having such blood-curdling bust-ups that their neighbours called the police, it might be some time before “Merchant Ivory” sprang to mind. But a new warts-and-all documentary about the Indian producer Ismail Merchant and the US director James Ivory makes it clear that the simmering passions in their films, such as the EM Forster trilogy of A Room With a View, Maurice and Howards End, were nothing compared to the scalding, volatile ones behind the camera.
From their initial meeting in New York in 1961 to Merchant’s death during surgery in 2005, the pair were as inseparable as their brand name, with its absence of any hyphen or ampersand, might suggest. Their output was always more eclectic than they got credit for. They began with a clutch of insightful Indian-set dramas including Shakespeare-Wallah, their 1965 study of a troupe of travelling actors, featuring a young, pixieish Felicity Kendal. From there, they moved on to Savages, a satire on civilisation and primitivism, and The Wild Party, a skewering of 1920s Hollywood excess that pipped Damien Chazelle’s Babylon to the post by nearly half a century.
It was in the 1980s and early 1990s, though, that Merchant Ivory became box-office titans, cornering the market in plush dramas about repressed Brits in period dress. Those literary adaptations launched the careers of Hugh Grant, Helena Bonham Carter, Rupert Graves and Julian Sands, and helped make stars of Emma Thompson and Daniel Day-Lewis. Most were scripted by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, who had been with them, on and off, since their 1963 debut The Householder; she even lived in the same apartment building in midtown New York. Many were scored by Richard Robbins, who was romantically involved with Merchant while also holding a candle for Bonham Carter. These films restored the costume drama to the position it had occupied during David Lean’s heyday. The roaring trade in Jane Austen adaptations might never have happened without them. You could even blame Merchant Ivory for Bridgerton.
Though the pictures were uniformly pretty, making them was often ugly. Money was always scarce. Asked where he would find the cash for the next movie, Merchant replied: “Wherever it is now.” After Jenny Beavan and John Bright won an Academy Award for the costumes in A Room With a View, he said:“I got you your Oscar. Why do I need to pay you?” As Ivory was painstakingly composing each shot, Merchant’s familiar, booming battle cry would ring out: “Shoot, Jim, shoot!”
Heat and Dust, starring Julie Christie, was especially fraught. Only 30 or 40% of the budget was in place by the time the cameras started rolling in India in 1982; Merchant would rise at dawn to steal the telegrams from the actors’ hotels so they didn’t know their agents were urging them to down tools. Interviewees in the documentary concede that the producer was a “conman” with a “bazaar mentality”. But he was also an incorrigible charmer who dispensed flattery by the bucketload, threw lavish picnics, and wangled entrées to magnificent temples and palaces. “You never went to bed without dreaming of ways to kill him,” says one friend, the journalist Anna Kythreotis. “But you couldn’t not love him.”
Stephen Soucy, who directed the documentary, doesn’t soft-pedal how wretched those sets could be. “Every film was a struggle,” he tells me. “People were not having a good time. Thompson had a huge fight with Ismail on Howards End because she’d been working for 13 days in a row, and he tried to cancel her weekend off. Gwyneth Paltrow hated every minute of making Jefferson in Paris. Hated it! Laura Linney was miserable on The City of Your Final Destination because the whole thing was a shitshow. But you watch the films and you see no sense of that.”
Soucy’s movie features archive TV clips of the duo bickering even in the midst of promoting a film. “Oh, they were authentic all right,” he says. “They clashed a lot.”The authenticity extended to their sexuality. The subject was not discussed publicly until after Ivory won an Oscar for writing Call Me By Your Name: “You have to remember that Ismail was an Indian citizen living in Bombay, with a deeply conservative Muslim family,” Ivory told me in 2018. But the pair were open to those who knew them. “I never had a sense of guilt,” Ivory says, pointing out that the crew on The Householder referred to him and Merchant as “Jack and Jill”.
Soucy had already begun filming his documentary when Ivory published a frank, fragmentary memoir, Solid Ivory, which dwells in phallocentric detail on his lovers before and during his relationship with Merchant, including the novelist Bruce Chatwin. It was that book which emboldened Soucy to ask questions on screen – including about “the crazy, complicated triangle of Jim, Ismail and Dick [Robbins]” – that he might not otherwise have broached.
The documentary is most valuable, though, in making a case for Ivory as an underrated advocate for gay representation. The Remains of the Day, adapted from Kazuo Ishiguro’s Booker-winning novel about a repressed butler, may be the duo’s masterpiece, but it was their gay love story Maurice that was their riskiest undertaking. Set in the early 20th century, its release in 1987 could scarcely have been timelier: it was the height of the Aids crisis, and only a few months before the Conservative government’s homophobic Section 28 became law.
“Ismail wasn’t as driven as Jim to make Maurice,” explains Soucy. “And Ruth was too busy to write it. But Jim’s dogged determination won the day. They’d had this global blockbuster with A Room With a View, and he knew it could be now or never. People would pull aside Paul Bradley, the associate producer, and say: ‘Why are they doing Maurice when they could be making anything?’ I give Jim so much credit for having the vision and tenacity to make sure the film got made.”
Merchant Ivory don’t usually figure in surveys of queer cinema, though they are part of its ecosystem, and not only because of Maurice. Ron Peck, who made the gay classic Nighthawks, was a crew member on The Bostonians. Andrew Haigh, director of All of Us Strangers, landed his first industry job as a poorly paid assistant in Merchant’s Soho office in the late 1990s; in Haigh’s 2011 breakthrough film Weekend, one character admits to freeze-framing the naked swimming scene in A Room With a View to enjoy “Rupert Graves’s juddering cock”. Merchant even offered a role in Savages to Holly Woodlawn, the transgender star of Andy Warhol’s Trash, only for her to decline because the fee was so low.
The position of Merchant Ivory at the pinnacle of British cinema couldn’t last for ever. Following the success of The Remains of the Day, which was nominated for eight Oscars, the brand faltered and fizzled. Their films had already been dismissed by the director Alan Parker as representing “the Laura Ashley school” of cinema. Gary Sinyor spoofed their oeuvre in the splendid pastiche Stiff Upper Lips (originally titled Period!), while Eric Idle was plotting his own send-up called The Remains of the Piano. The culture had moved on.
There was still an appetite for upper-middle-class British repression, but only if it was funny: Richard Curtis drew on some of Merchant Ivory’s repertory company of actors (Grant, Thompson, Simon Callow) for a run of hits beginning with Four Weddings and a Funeral, which took the poshos out of period dress and plonked them into romcoms.
The team itself was splintering. Merchant had begun directing his own projects. When he and Ivory did collaborate, the results were often unwieldy, lacking the stabilising literary foundation of their best work. “Films like Jefferson in Paris and Surviving Picasso didn’t come from these character-driven novels like Forster, James or Ishiguro,” notes Soucy. “Jefferson and Picasso were not figures that audiences warmed to.” Four years after Merchant’s death, Ivory’s solo project The City of Your Final Destination became mired in lawsuits, including one from Anthony Hopkins for unpaid earnings.
Soucy’s film, though, is a reminder of their glory days. It may also stoke interest in the movies among young queer audiences whose only connection to Ivory, now 95, is through Call Me By Your Name. “People walk up to Jim in the street to shake his hand and thank him for Maurice,” says Soucy. “But I also wanted to include the more dysfunctional side of how they were made. Hopefully it will be inspiring to young film-makers to see that great work can come out of chaos.”
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Detective Mickey Pilot P.5
So this took a little bit longer than expected... Yeah. I guess I don't really have a realistic idea of how long these will end up taking. I'll try not to take as long on Part 6 and the possible epilogue. But part 5 is finished and honestly, I am really happy with how it turned out. I can't believe we are already so close to the end. Again thank you all so much for the support. I appreciate it so much!!!
Well, you waited long enough, let's jump into... Part 5.
Previous Part: X
Final Part: X
Mickey closes the gate of the construction site, but doesn’t lock it. He gives a small smile, seemingly pleased with what he just accomplished. The site should hopefully remain untouched by the time he needs it. Apparently this was going to be a building for a parachuting and paragliding class, but something must have happened and the building never got finished. It has been sitting unused for almost about a year now. Thankfully, Mickey knew the construction manager who was in charge of the project and he let Mickey borrow the keys to the site. Mickey helped him in the past find his missing electrical tools in the garage of his sneaky neighbor and this was a way to say thank you. Mickey looks at the sky. He uses whatever Junior Woodchuck knowledge he could muster and gathers that it is about noon. Hm… That should hopefully be enough time to enact the second part of his plan.
Mickey heads over to his car which is tucked away in a nearby parking lot, hopefully not easy to see. He opens the trunk and takes out a bag of five Little Korker V39 Cameras. They aren’t exactly in the best shape since Mickey had to fix them. But they look convincing enough. He takes the cameras out and wraps them around his body using the straps they are connected to. Mickey then walks a couple blocks until he is closer to the docks. After finding a good enough spot, he gets his phone out and takes a selfie, trying his best to capture both the cameras and the docks. It is a bit of a challenge thanks to his tiny arms, but he finally manages to get a good picture. As he walks back to his car, he prepares a social media post with the selfie. The mouse debates on whether to try to add a caption but decides to just tag words that will hopefully get attention in the right circles. He schedules the post to go off in about an hour, giving him some time to prepare, and then places his phone in the glove compartment of his car.
There. Now with the bait set, all Mickey has to do is to head back to the docks and wait. Thankfully, there aren’t many people around as not many ships come in or out this time of year. Though there are still a few fishermen who do seem a bit curious about the mouse with the cameras wrapped around him, but not curious enough to stop their work. Once Mickey returns to the spot where he took the picture, he begins to pace around. It is still going to be a couple of minutes until the post he made is released onto the internet. Then the second part of his plan can begin. He smiles to himself thinking about how confusing the post will be to his friends and family. He usually posts pictures of the time he spends with Minnie or Pluto. But perhaps they’ll see why by the end of today. But until then, all he can do is wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Hours pass and Mickey continues to pace the area, he tries his best to stick close to where he took the picture but walks out far enough to increase his chance of being seen. As Mickey walks around he starts to wonder if his plan will work. Will He see the post? What if He doesn’t? What if Mickey is wasting his time? Maybe He already found all the cameras and is gone by now. There were only 13 left, the last time he checked. But then again how is the Phantom Blot finding these cameras? These are old cameras and not everyone is going to make a post about them or have them in a store. What if… Mickey shakes himself out of his thoughts. He needs to focus if this plan is going to work. The mouse takes another look around at his surroundings, keeping a close eye on any shadowy areas. Unfortunately, he has yet to see anything of note. Mickey pulls out an energy bar from his pocket and starts to eat. He needs to keep his energy up, in case his target appears out of nowhere. Mickey sighs. He really hopes that this works. If it can’t, he wouldn’t know what else to do… “Mickey?”
The Mouse quickly turns his head at the sound of the voice, getting ready to run if needed. He looks around to see… A furious hawk standing right behind him. Shoot. The Editor in Chief. What is he doing here? How did he… The Editor interrupted his thoughts and shouted at the mouse asking where in the world he had been all day. He brings up that Mickey was supposed to come in today and how he has been trying to call him for hours. Mickey stands there. At a complete loss of what to do. Not him. Not now. Mickey tries his best to stutter out a response but is interrupted again as the Hawk goes on about how he had to track down the mouse’s location based off of a recent social media post and cannot understand why on earth he is here. The Editor then takes notice of the hanging cameras around Mickey’s body and asks what those are for until his eyebrows furrow upon realizing for himself. He harshly inquires on whether those are the cameras from the story he told Mickey to drop. Mickey tries once again to explain, only for the Hawk to continue about how he told the mouse to stop going after this story. He expresses that he can’t believe that he disobeyed him and is still wasting time on this stupid case. He offered Mickey a very generous second chance and he threw it back into his face. As the Hawk goes on ranting, Mickey just stands there. Frozen. He doesn’t know what to say or do. He wasn’t expecting this at all. How can he even fix this? Can he fix this? He’s never been in trouble like this. Ever. Oh Gosh. Everything is falling apart. He’s done for. It’s over.
As Mickey drowns in waves of worry, he does manage to catch the end bits of the Editor’s angry tirade as he exclaims that this is why he didn’t want the previous Editor in Chief to hire another Mouse. He continues how that hack journalist Felicity has caused the Mouseton Argus nothing but trouble and knew her brother would be just as bad. As Mickey hears this, he instantly retorts about how his sister is not a hack journalist. She is one of the best journalists in the world. The Editor gives a hearty but cruel chortle and challenges the mouse about how she is far from the best and only got to where she is due to being a manipulative opportunist. She would have run this paper into the ground if she didn’t get her fancy new job in the city. Mickey couldn’t believe his ears. And he wouldn’t believe it. He knows who his sister is. His sister got to where she is due to her hardwork and determination. She would not manipulate anyone. She never would. He shouts back at the Editor claiming that he is lying and he is just saying that because he’s jealous of her. This seemed to stop the editor-in-chief right in his tracks. Before his face hardened he icily tells the mouse that he doesn’t know his sister like he does. He starts closing in on the mouse adding that Mickey, on the other hand, is such a low-rate pathetic weakling who wouldn’t last a second as a real journalist. He’s a nobody who has absolutely nothing to offer the world of journalism. People like Mickey don’t go far into the world. People like Mickey don’t amount to anything. And people like Mickey should be grateful that people like him give them the time of day.
The Editor takes a step back from the cornered mouse and fixes his collar. He takes one last glance at the shaking mouse with tears building up in his eyes. He sighs and notes that since he is such a nice guy, he is willing to give Mickey one final chance. But this time Mickey will be demoted to something somehow lower than he already is and his pay will be docked. But Mickey better drop this story once and for all or he is fired from the Mouseton Argus and will never ever work there again. Mickey's heart drops. He is still shaking, trying to recuperate after the harsh blows made against his sister and him. Mickey knew taking this case would have risks. But now his whole future is being put on the line. And he can’t give up now. He can’t. He is so close. There is too much at stake. Mickey tries one last time to plead with the Hawk, explaining that he needs to stick with this case. So many lives are in danger and if he just had a little bit more time… Unfortunately, he doesn’t get far until the Editor yells at him again, telling him about how he doesn’t care and how Mickey needs to learn to stay in his place and obey or else he will make sure that Mickey never works as a journalist Anywhere... Ever. Again. Mickey sulked. He could feel his mind blackout in deep despair. What is he going to do?
A young Mickey enters a small pink and orange room holding two printed photos in his hands. He hands them over to the taller feminine mouse who just recently finished typing something on her desktop computer. Felicity smiles at Mickey and thanks him for the pictures. She takes them to her printer covered in flower and kitten stickers and scans them. Once scanned she quickly adds them to the document she was making. And there. Finished. She remarks about how excited she is to share the new issue of the Mouseton Middle School Gazette tomorrow. She’s really proud of the article she wrote about the Winter Dance and thanks to Mickey she got some amazing pictures to go with it. Mickey can’t help but smile at his sister. He always loved how excited she got over her paper. She put so much love and care into it and as a result, everyone started to care for it too, including him. Mickey couldn’t stop himself from blurting out how he wanted to be just like her. Felicity turns to him and giggles a bit asking Mickey what he means. He explains that he wants to be a journalist just like her when he grows up. She is so smart and nice and hardworking and he wants to be too. She continues to giggle and thanks Mickey, adding that Mickey doesn’t have to be a journalist to be smart and hardworking. She explains that Mickey should find what really makes him happy. She knows that whatever he chooses, he will be amazing at. Mickey gives a thoughtful expression. Clearly trying to soak in what she said. Felicity clicks a couple more keys and the printer turns on, printing out a stack of articles. As the printer finishes she takes the stack and gives Mickey one last grin before asking “So Mickey… What do you want to do?”
A much older but still young Mickey walks up to the stage that is in front of him. He is currently surrounded by a crowd and trying his best to see if he can spot the person he is looking for. It takes a bit, but he finally catches her large round ears. He rushes through the crowd and gives his big sister a hug. She immediately looks over and laughs seeing her younger brother clinging to her once again. She greets him and hugs him back. Mickey congratulates her for her college graduation adding that he can’t believe she got hired at the Mouseton Argus for her first job. She mentions that it was tough, but she managed to impress the Editor in Chief enough that they had to hire her. Mickey jokes that she should save him a spot and Felicity giggles adding that she will try her best. Mickey laughs a bit, but then his smile starts to slowly fade away, revealing a much more worried expression. Felicity catches this and asks him what’s wrong. Mickey tries to tell her that it is nothing to worry about, but Felicity knows better and asks again, adding that Mickey could tell her anything. Mickey takes a breath and admits that he is a bit worried about whether he can accomplish as much as her. His sister accomplished so many amazing things and Mickey isn’t sure if he has what it takes. Felicity smiles and kneels a bit, looking Mickey straight in the eyes. She tells him that she knows who her brother is. And that he has more than it takes to accomplish anything he wants. She knows that either as a journalist or as anything else Mickey will do amazing and she will be there to support him the whole way. A smile returns to Mickey's face joined with a couple of tears. He remarks that there are so many choices he has to make soon and just wants to make the right ones like she did. She gazes at him with her warm eyes and loving smile. “Oh, Mickey. You are so smart, so kind, and just so brave. You always did the right thing even when it was hard. It is what I love about you. I know you will make the right choice. I just know it. I believe in you”
The right choice. The right choice. Mickey could feel a lump in his throat as he knew what he had to do. It wasn’t easy. But he had to do it. “I quit”. The Editor perked up at the response, asking the mouse to repeat himself. Mickey repeats himself this time louder and clearer. “I Quit”. The Editor in Chief looks at him completely baffled, not believing at all what he is hearing. Mickey explains that he is tired of all the abuse that he had to deal with at the Mouseton Argus. And how the Editor went too far in trying to bring his sister into this. He thought that being a journalist was his dream, but it was not worth it for all of this. He needs to continue working on this Camera story. This is very important to him and he won’t give up. The only thing standing in his way right now is the Editor. And if the Editor is not going to trust him, then he can get out of his way. I quit. And with that, Mickey pushes aside the hawk and restarts his rounds. The Editor stands there completely dumbfounded, not at all expecting the mouse to actually fight back this time. He manages to regain composure and shouts at the mouse claiming that he will regret this decision and he will never work as a journalist ever again. Only for the mouse to continue on his path, completely ignoring the hawk. Frustrated, the Editor kicks a nearby rock and then stomps off in the other direction.
As the Editor storms away, Mickey stops for a bit to comprehend what happened. He felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest. Did he do that? Did he really do that? Why did he do that? No, he had to do that. He stood there waiting. Expecting to feel a wave of guilt for what he just did. But he doesn’t… At all. If anything he could feel his shoulders get a bit lighter. Huh. Maybe he did actually make the right choice… Well, either way, he still has important business to finish. And unfortunately, that confrontation took away some valuable time. He really hoped he didn’t miss his target. Mickey starts walking again. Continuing on the same path as before. Still walking. Still watching. Still waiting. A couple more hours pass and the warm day shifts into a chilly night. Mickey shivers as a cool wind brushes against his bare arms. The street lights automatically turn on, giving the mouse a little bit of light, though not much. Mickey proceeds with his pacing, holding his hands behind his back. Where is he? Did he not see the post? What if he thought it was too suspicious? What if he already got the blueprint and left already? What if the editor-in-chief scared him away? What if he is never coming? What if the plan already failed? What if … Mickey failed. The mouse stops in his tracks. Did he fail? No. He didn’t fail. Yet. Argh this plan is taking forever. And this is the only plan he has left. It is getting so late. Maybe he can try again tomorrow. What if he doesn’t come around then either? How long should he stay here? How long should he be doing this? Should he stay overnight? Should he sleep? Did he bring enough energy bars? It’s getting cold. Why didn’t he bring a jacket? What should he…
“Excuse me, I would hate to interrupt, but this is rather boring. What exactly is your plan here?”
The haunting baritone struck right through his core, causing every single muscle in his body to tense and raise every single hair. The Phantom Blot. He’s here. Right here. How long was he here? Was he following him? Stop. Stop. Don’t overthink. Don’t have time. The plan. Don’t forget the plan. You need to run. Run. NOW. Mickey pulls all his strength to force his body to move. Pushing himself to turn around and bolt in the direction he needed to go. Mickey could feel his heart, head, and everything pounding as he made the leap to rush toward his destination. Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived as the Blot rather quickly snatched the mouse up with his lightning-speed reflexes and held the mouse up by his collar. “I don’t think so~”. Shoot. How is he so fast? Mickey stutters out a plea at the Phantom Blot to let him go, only for the man to laugh brutally in response. He admits that he is not sure how the mouse managed to escape alive, but he has quite the nerve to think he can taunt him like this. Perhaps he was too kind before. Maybe he should try something that will send a more agonizing message. Mickey goes limp in the evil man’s hands. He barely even got 5 feet before getting captured. Is this too much? Did he really go beyond what he can handle? Is the Phantom Blot really…“What’s the matter? Are you still afraid?” The villain lets out a sinister laugh while raising the mouse up face to face with Mickey’s collar still tight in a vicious grip. Mickey tries his best to avoid looking at the malicious bright white eyes but finds it hard to. He hated those eyes.
“Do not be upset little mouse. It is quite alright to be afraid, necessary even. Fear is what protects you from danger. It is what keeps you alive to see another day. Unfortunately… it becomes utterly useless if you choose to ignore it… I may have pegged you wrong before. You are not just a pathetic nobody… but quite stupid too ”
Mickey could feel frustration rising up within him. He was sick of this. He was sick of being scared. He was sick of being treated like garbage. He just wanted to help people. And he will. He isn’t going to let this fear control him anymore. It is not over yet. Mickey could feel this raging bubble into a burst of energy. He then channeled this energy into the rest of his body kicking, punching, whatever he could to break free. The Phantom Blot first appears amused at this sudden burst of bravery and holds the mouse back a bit. However, he later finds that he is struggling to keep hold of the pesky mouse. Annoyed, the Phantom Blot slams the mouse against the wall of a nearby warehouse. Before Mickey even has a chance to get up, The Blot is already on him, ripping off the cameras and tying him down with rope. Mickey tries his best to fight him off, but the man is much bigger and stronger than him. However, the mouse doesn’t make it easy. The Blot notes how the mouse is being much more of a bother than he was before. But he is not worried. After this, the mouse will be all but a dangling memory. As the villain finishes tying him up, Mickey shouts about how he’ll never find the blueprint and how he will always be there to stop him. The Phantom Blot completely ignores these cries and grabs the other end of the rope as well as a couple of other things. He then drags the mouse over to the docks, taking little care in protecting Mickey’s head from bumping up against the ground.
Once the Blot reaches the end of one of the docks, he starts to tie one end of the rope to the middle of a large board he carried over. Mickey angrily demands to know what he is doing. The Phantom Blot snidely remarks how the mouse would probably prefer not to know. Mickey assesses the situation and asks if the Phantom Blot is going to drop him into the water. The Blot notes that he may not be that stupid after all. Mickey laughs and notes he would just float on the water and then all he would have to do is wait for someone to save him in the morning. Mickey felt a sense of pride for a nanosecond until he noticed the smug aura of the Phantom Blot hadn't changed. Instead, the malevolent figure thanked the mouse for the reminder and started attaching some weights to the rope around Mickey. Swell. He and his big mouth. Before Mickey has a chance to retort, the Phantom Blot places a gag over his mouth. He comments about how he is getting tired of hearing the mouse’s voice and prefers it when he is too scared to talk. As the Blot finishes what he was tying up, Mickey manages to shake the gag off and exclaims how he will never get away with this. The Phantom Blot drops what he is doing and glares at him with those horrid striking white eyes. Mickey wanted so badly to look away but needed to be strong. The Phantom Blot then moved his hands to cradle Mickey’s head, giving a tight squeeze. He gave a soft chuckle that rapidly evolved into a venomous cackle.
“Oh my sweet little mouse. I already have”
And with that the Phantom Blot suddenly brings his hands around Mickey’s head and roughly tightens the gag around Mickey’s mouth and then launches him over the dock. Mickey braced himself for impact, but it never came as instead he heard a loud clap above him and his body quickly bounced over the water, due to the elasticity of the rope. Mickey then drops down again doing a couple more small bounces before finally stopping. He hung, faced down, a couple of feet over the water. The long wooden board he was tied to was stuck between two wooden poles above, preventing him from being fully thrusted into the cold dark ocean. He could still hear the Phantom Blot above him cackling and gloating about how he is not as heartless as he appears. He left the mouse out of the water and even gave him quite a nice view of the ocean. The mouse should appreciate this rare sudden act of grace… while he still can at least. As Mickey considers what that means, a large splash hits him in the face. What was that? Mickey looks over and notices that it is the… Cameras? They don’t even look broken into. Why did he… Mickey tries his best to look up, and notices the villainous figure still standing there. He seems to be looking at something in his hand, before walking away. What was in his hands? Why didn’t he put him fully in the water? Why did he toss the cameras? Mickey sighs, well the best he can with the gag on, and takes a good look at his surroundings. Unfortunately he couldn’t really enjoy the view of the ocean as it looks more murky and gross from where he was. Mickey paused for a second. He could still feel the fiery rage in his heart from before. He can’t give up. He won’t give up. He made a promise to Minnie to come back. And he was going to do everything it takes to keep that promise.
Mickey tries to do his best to wiggle out of the rope but finds it hard to move anything. Darn. Mickey could feel the Deja Vu from earlier. This guy really knows how to tie someone up... But he also gives his victims way too much time to figure a way out. And perhaps an old trick might work again. Mickey uses all the strength in his body to attempt to swing back and forth. It was tough and slow, the weights attached to his body didn’t really help, but it was possible and the best solution he had at the moment. For quite a while, Mickey continued to swing, building a lot of good momentum. However, he could already feel his body ache. And he wasn’t nearly as high as he would need to be to escape. He tried to think of any other solutions as he continued to swing his body but struggled to come up with anything. Some more time passes, and Mickey is still doing his best to swing, though is clearly tired and starts to slow down, he tries to think of a more effective plan, but is coming up cold. Cold. Something feels cold on his stomach. Cold and wet. What is that? Mickey looks down and notices that the ocean is a lot closer than it was before. The ocean? But he was a couple feet above? How… Oh crap the rising tide. Mickey forgot all about it. The momentum the mouse was building started to slow down as Mickey continued to hit the water. Crap. Crap. Now what does he do? The mouse could feel the panic bubble up inside of him, as he felt more of his body sink into the water. No. No. He will not give up. He will get out of this. He just has to keep thinking. Eventually, something will poke… Ouch! Mickey felt a sharp pain in his butt. The poke causes Mickey to jump, but not enough to get out of the water.
Mickey instantly looked at where the poke came from and saw a very angry swordfish. Crap. Mickey heard about the famous Mouseton Swordfish from Captain Churchmouse but never met one face to face. Unfortunately, the Mouseton Swordfish are known for being very territorial and deadly to any unlucky person who crosses their path. And it seems like right now Mickey is that unlucky person. Great. As if he needed more things to worry about. The mouse tries his best to kick his legs at the fish but struggles due to the rope tied around him. The Swordfish seems to swim back a bit, but only so it could prepare for another strike. Mickey notices and holds his position until… Swish. The swordfish takes another lunge at the mouse, but luckily Mickey gathered enough energy to just barely swing out of the way. It seems like the rope still got partially hit and is now somewhat frayed… The rope... It’s frayed. Mickey recalled how Captain Churchmouse told him that the nose of the Mouseton Swordfish also tends to be sharper than any other swordfish. Sharp enough to cut…
The Swordfish, annoyed about its failed second attempt, dives deep back into the water. Mickey sticks his head into the water and opens his eyes, trying his best to triangulate where the fish may be. He had a bit of trouble at first but then saw a flicker of the Swordfish’s body. It's time to go. Must be quick. Mickey used any remaining strength he had to orient his body as quickly as he could, as the Swordfish then raced towards him with incredible speed. Mickey could feel his heart pounding as he struggled to move his body in the thick water. It was tough. But he can do it. He knows he can. Come on. Move your body… Just a tiny bit more… A little bit more… Just one more smidge… and… THERE! As the mouse finally gets into his desired position the Swordfish lunges at him, but manages to aim right above his body, getting in between Mickey’s back and the rope. The swordfish lurched with so much force that it ended up hitting one of the legs of the dock and got its nose stuck. As the fish wiggled his nose to escape, Mickey could feel the ropes cut, until he was finally free. His adrenaline pushed him up the rope. As he finally reached the top, Mickey rolled over to his side, ripped off the gag around his mouth, and laid on his back catching his breath. He’s alive. HE’S ALIVE. Mickey let out a deep breath that evolved into a hearty laugh and then partially into tears. That was so close. So close. But he made it. He was lucky that Swordfish happened to be there. The Swordfish. Mickey looked over the edge of the dock to see if his mean companion was okay. Even though it attacked him, it was still just an animal trying to defend his territory. As he looked down he noticed the fish managed to free himself from the dock. It looked rather annoyed to have hit the dock and confused about where the intruder went. Mickey noticed part of a fish head nearby and threw it in the water, hoping it would work as an apology and sign of gratitude. The Swordfish seemed to appreciate the fish head well enough and swam off deeper into the sea
Still tired, Mickey rolled onto his back again. He wanted so badly to fall asleep right now. He had more than enough danger for tonight. But… He doesn’t have time to. His plan fell apart and now he needs to come up with another one quickly. He doesn’t know how long he has until the Phantom Blot finds what he needs and leaves. Mickey picks himself up and starts to wobble his way over to where he remembered parking his car, relying on a couple of streetlights to light his path. Thankfully his hiding spot worked and it was still there, completely untouched. He got in and immediately locked it, not wanting any more surprises that night… Now what. The question bounced around in Mickey’s mind as he fished out his phone from the glove compartment. Instinctively he just started scrolling around, hoping that something might spark his mind. He saw a couple of calls from the Editor in his missed call list, but nothing from anyone else. He checked his messages and didn't see anything of note there either. Well, nothing outside of a picture sent from Goofy sent to the group chat that he, Mickey, and Donald were in called “The Musketeers”. It was of Max and his friend PJ watching a movie under a blanket fortress. Goofy added a comment asking if they remember doing that in college. Mickey's phone pings. Donald just now responded with a picture of Huey, Dewey, and Louie doing the same thing adding a sarcastic comment about how Max should stop copying his boys. Mickey smiled. This is what he needed at the moment. He really loved his friends. They always could bring a smile to his face, no matter what. But they are also why he needs to do this. His friends can’t be safe with the Phantom Blot walking around with that weapon. Nobody or any of their friends would ever be safe. And that is why Mickey is going to stop him.
Reinvigorated Mickey adds a heart emoji to both of the pictures and decides to check on the post he made to lure the Phantom Blot. He notices it has some likes on it and a couple of comments. One of them was from Horace who congratulates Mickey on finding so many cameras and asks if he could have some to replace his missing ones. But the other comment was from… Felicity? Mickey reads the comment. She remarks about how interesting the cameras Mickey found are but notes that they look a lot like the one that Captain Churchmouse had that didn’t work. She recalls how Mickey used to play with it as a kid. Huh. What. Mickey didn’t remember playing with this type of camera. He thought his earliest camera was Ol’ Reliable. Mickey's phone pings as Felicity recently adds another comment. She notes that it still may be at his lake house if she remembers correctly… Lakehouse… That isn’t too far from here. What if… Mickey quickly turns on the car and rapidly starts to back it out. Once the car is free out on the road, Mickey rushes down the quiet streets as he hurries to his next destination. However, he still makes sure to stop at red stoplights and not be too much above the speed limit. Mickey could feel his thoughts scramble as he considered all of the possibilities. This could be his next chance to get ahead of the Phantom Blot. Mickey could feel his heart tense. It quickly occurred to him that the Phantom Blot was also likely to see that post. It is likely that they will meet again. But he can’t back out now. Not now. He has to finish this no matter what it takes. He was terrified. But also brave. The Phantom Blot may have had the upper hand before, but this time Mickey has something that the Phantom Blot couldn’t possibly have… A shortcut. Mickey taps the contacts section on the screen in his car. He needs to make a quick call.
To be honest lake house was a very kind term to what is more like a cabin that happened to be next to a lake. Though to be fair it was a fairly large cabin and there were a couple of other smaller cabins nearby. This land and the small lake has been passed down through the Churchmouse family for years and since Churchmouse was a very close family friend, the Mouse family has been here quite a bit too. Whether for family gatherings or just to visit while his parents were away. To someone from the outside it wasn’t the prettiest place, but to Mickey it was beautiful. Thanks to the shortcut, Mickey arrives at the “lake house” rather quickly. Quick enough to give him quite a bit of time to look for the camera. Mickey parks in the spot Uncle Oswald used to park whenever he came for family reunions and then walked across the yard to the front door. Hopefully that spot will keep his car hidden. He looks for a special rock in the bushes and when he finds it, he opens it revealing a set of keys. Thankfully Captain Churchmouse and his wife are away at vacation. Mickey called them to ask if he could come over to find the old camera. Churchmouse was more than willing and told Mickey that it may be in the attic somewhere. Mickey smiled, Churchmouse really felt like another father to him.
Mickey quickly enters the cabin, picks up a flashlight near the door, and heads over to where the attic is. As Mickey walked through the house, memories of his childhood played out in his mind. Felicity and him running through the halls. The chatter of so many family reunions. The decorations from that one Christmas. That time he brought Minnie and Donald to play at the lake. So many memories. So many wonderful memories. Memories other families should also be having. Memories that could easily be taken away. Mickey shook himself out of his nostalgia and finally reached the ladder that led up to the Attic. He swiftly but also carefully climbs up the steps. When he reaches the top, he opens the hatch which lets out a wave of dust into his face. Mickey stands there coughing but still presses on to fully enter the attic. He could already feel his eyes and throat being irritated by the amount of dust here. Cough. But he can handle it. At the front of an attic, a giant circular window allows the glow of the moonlight to fill the room. Mickey heads over to the large pile of boxes and crates that lined both sides of the attic. Alright. Mickey cracked his knuckles. Time to get looking.
About half an hour of searching passes and Mickey can already feel himself getting disheartened. So much time has passed and he barely got through half of the boxes. He opens one more box and starts frantically tossing out the contents, old clothes… old clothes… And even more old clothes. Crap. Mickey feels bad about tossing all the clothes on the floor, but he doesn’t have time to clean it up now. He’ll definitely have to come back and clean up afterward. He wished they labeled these better, or at least labeled them at all. Mickey slumps down onto the floor. He doesn’t have much time and needs to find that camera quick. Why do they have so much stuff? Why are there so many boxes? Why aren’t they labeled very well? Mickey shakes his head breaks himself out of another overthinking panic and takes a deep breath. Which wasn’t smart since this place was so dusty. Cough. Cough. Maybe he needs to think about this smarter. He takes a look at the boxes again. He quickly notices a piece of paper sticking out of the one he just ransacked. He picked it up and saw that it was a receipt for one of the dresses that was in the box. He notices the date is sometime in May 1973… Hm… Maybe he doesn’t have to look through everything. Mickey immediately starts rummaging through a nearby box and finds a picture frame. He looks in the bottom right corner and finds another date December 1975. Ah ha. Maybe if he starts looking for things with dates on them he can use that to track down the camera easier.
Mickey heads back over to some of the previous boxes he already looked at that was closer to the door. He finds a couple things with dates on them ranging from the 50’s and 60’s… Hm… Maybe… Mickey starts to check out a pile of boxes that were after the ones with the 70’s stuff and finds a t-shirt with… 1981 on it. Hot Dog! The newer stuff must be towards the back of the room which is probably why he hasn’t found the camera yet. Now he just needs to find stuff that was from the late 90’s to mid 00’s as that is most likely when the camera was added to the attic. Mickey looks through some more boxes and specifically looks for things with dates on them. 1989… 1993… 1991… 1999… 2000… Something catches Mickey’s eye. It’s a chest hidden behind some boxes he is currently looking at. He starts to pull it out and wipes off the dust with his gloves. On the top of the chest, it reads “Mickey Mouse” Gasp! Mickey Mouse. Could this be it? Mickey instantly starts to open the chest and poke through the contents. In it, he finds some crude pictures that he must have made when he was younger. Seems like he always had a knack for drawing. He also catches some photos and some things he can best describe as art projects. Most of them seem pretty unfamiliar, but there is one or two that he actually does happen to recognize. Man, these must be from when he was really really young.
As he picks up a drawing with a macaroni frame, he notices something large and boxy underneath it. He pries the item out of the chest and a huge smile grows on his face. He found it! The Little Korker V39. Mickey double checks and confirms that it is indeed the same version as the ones that were stolen. Filled with excitement, Mickey leaps off of the ground and gets ready to bolt to his car. Wait. What if… A sudden thought occurred to Mickey. He should probably check to see what is in it, first. Mickey looks around the camera and finds a latch. He opens the latch which opens up to reveal the inside of the camera. He instantly remembers about the secret compartment and starts to open it revealing… something green. Oh Boy! The chemical. He found the chemical. Mickey felt a wave of instant relief. He finally had physical proof. The police will have to believe him now. Or at least would be curious enough to check it out. Maybe Professor Ludwig Von Drake can figure out what it is. There are just so many possibilities… Wait what’s that. Mickey took a quick glance into the rest of the camera and noticed that there appeared to be something that was stuck within the camera parts. It appears to be a… piece of paper? Wait. Is it the… Mickey immediately starts to pull it out, though is careful to avoid ripping it. When he gets it out he starts to unfold it. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The blueprint… He found it… It was here. It was here the whole time. This is even better than the chemical. Mickey felt himself tearing up. This is amazing. This is wonderful. This is fantastic. Finally things are going to be…
“I believe that belongs to me”
The man takes one more step towards the mouse, this time moving at a quicker pace. Mickey tries to back up but hits the back wall of the attic. Mickey takes this as a cue to run. As the Phantom Blot charges towards him, he takes off rocketing past the Phantom Blot on his right side. Unfortunately, the nightmarishly quick reflexes of the Phantom Blot are already prepared to catch the mouse as he passes by. At least that is what would have happened if Mickey didn’t learn a lesson from last time. As the man swings for the mouse, Mickey does a fake out and makes a quick turn instead of running through his left side, instantly passing him. The switch happened so quickly that the Blot didn’t even have time to process it before the mouse was now behind him, bolting to the end of the room. Mickey felt a real sense of pride as he heard the grunts of confusion behind him. He did it. He finally got past him. But don’t celebrate yet. Run. Keep Running. Mickey charges forward, getting closer and closer to the window until he is close enough to leap out, launching his barreling body into the chilly night air. The mouse lands on part of the roof and then takes another jump landing on the ground. He bolts over to where his car is and turns it on. Thankfully it turns immediately on and he is able to back out and speed out of there. Mickey’s car flies down the street, with him not really caring about adhering to the speed limit. He had to hurry to the police station. No matter what. He can’t stop now. Honk! Honk! Honk! Mickey glances in the direction where the noise came from. He sees a very expensive-looking fancy black car that is currently tailing him. He doesn’t even have to guess who that could be. The car bumps into him from the back causing Mickey’s car to thrust forward. Mickey presses everything he can into the gas pedal, trying to get away as quickly as he can. Unfortunately, the other car speeds past him with ease, and once side by side the window near Mickey rolls down, revealing exactly who Mickey expected to see giving a “friendly” wave. Mickey partially rolls down his window and shouts at the Phantom Blot, calling him insane. The man laughs and alerts the mouse that what is insane is thinking that he could get away from him. The Blot’s car then leans into Mickey. Forcing Mickey to drive off the road, to avoid getting hit. Mickey tries his best to keep control of his car and screams back at the other man, warning that he needs to stop or he is going to get them both killed. The man shakes his head “Nope, Just you ~” before slowing down his car. Mickey tried to process what he meant. But unfortunately, it was too late.
Him. It’s Him. He’s here. Mickey knew this was likely to happen. He hoped it wouldn’t. But it did. Now to deal with it. The mouse slowly turns around and catches a view of his frightening new guest. The Phantom Blot sat on top of the sill of the now-opened large circular window. His dark cloak blew into the room, vanishing as it touched any shadows. His bright blinding eyes only second to the moonlight that glowed behind him. Mickey stood up straight and stared the man down. Mickey’s not scared of him anymore. Okay, that was a lie. He was still terrified. But he can’t let that stop him now. He can’t let the Phantom Blot win. The cloaked figure leaves the window and starts walking toward the mouse at an excruciatingly slow pace. Mickey steps back at a similar rate, trying his best to maintain the distance while putting on a brave face. Mickey tells the thief that the blueprints don’t belong to him and will never belong to him. The Phantom Blot cocks his head a bit, somewhat still entertained by the pushback from the mouse. Entertained… But also… He states that he is grateful that the mouse ever so kindly found the blueprint for him, even after all the trouble he caused. And as a reward, he’ll let the mouse choose whether he wants things to end nicely… Or messy. The blueprint is already in his hands. What has yet to be determined is how much pain the mouse is willing to suffer. Mickey stands strong and reassures that he will never hand it over calling the Phantom Blot a creep. The Phantom Blot shakes his head and clicks his tongue, noting how the mouse is resorting to name-calling now. The mouse must have a masochistic desire to feel pain. But not to worry, The Phantom Blot will be more than happy to oblige.
#disney#mickey#mickey mouse#mickey and friends#mickey mouse and friends#mouseverse#disney comics#the phantom blot#phantom blot#captain churchmouse#detective mickey#detective mickey pilot idea#fanfiction#disney fanfiction#violence tw#death mention tw#disney channel#disney+#drowning tw
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Moneymakers, pt.xiii // the_attic_011120XX
Previous / AO3 / Masterlist / Next
Bruises don’t get to fade, and cuts don’t get to heal.
Conrad runs his fingers along the rope tying the handcuffs to the back of the chair. The course threads twist around themselves in a double helix, or triple, he’s not sure. He tries to count each ridge from knot to knot, another meek attempt to turn his thoughts away from the present, towards the meaningless, the things that would otherwise fill him with indifference. The rope isn’t so bad, in that sense. It can become the object for his distraction, and not the thing tying him in place.
He followed them willingly this time. No tantrums, as Renee put it. And Conrad was shaking at first. Not crying, just shaking, as he walked up the stairs on his own two feet. It would’ve been an unnecessary fight. A disgusted voice in the back of his mind condemns it, tells him that a stronger man than him would’ve resisted again, damn the consequences. Is it so bad to want to keep your dignity somewhat intact instead? Conrad can push it down. He can push it all down.
Renee is humming as he pulls the balaclava over his head, as he threads his hand through the leather gloves, closing them at the wrist with the click of a button. “Smile a little,” he says. “We’re rising stars.”
The rope loops around itself twelve times from one knot to the other.
When Renee presses record without gagging him first, Conrad pauses in his tracks. Confusion turns to wariness. He catches Davin’s apathetic eye behind the camera. Looks at Renee, who is clearly smiling under the balaclava.
“What’s going on, hm? You’re not a fan of change?”
Biting his lip, Conrad looks at the camera, at the blinking red light.
Renee crouches next to him, ruefully casual. His tone is low, egging. “Is there something you want to say?”
It’s a trap, Conrad is well aware. It’s so obvious that Conrad is sure even Renee knows that he knows.
But he has to try, anyways, doesn’t he?
Biting his lip, he glances at the camera, and carefully, hesitantly says, “Renee.”
He should’ve expected the punch, but it still catches him off-guard. It hits him in the mouth, snapping his head back and up, and he reels, tongue tentatively running over his teeth to feel for gaps, which, thankfully, it does not find. It only finds the pungently sweet taste of blood.
Meanwhile, Renee has strolled over to the camera to reset it, and Davin gets to work on something behind the desk.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Renee starts.
His next punch lands in Conrad’s gut, and he folds forward, gasping.
“—in-betweens and outsiders—”
Renee’s fist connects with the side of his head, clipping his ear as it sends his head sideways. The pain blooming from his ear makes Conrad wince breathlessly for several seconds as Renee continues to talk.
“—welcome back to the attic,” he says cheerfully. “You might’ve noticed the blank screen that popped up for a second there. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a bug. The stream runs on a delay, now, for censoring reasons. Drawback is that the chat is also delayed, so we’re gonna have communication issues. I’d like to think it’s worth it, though.” He kicks at the leg of Conrad’s chair. “Don’t you?”
When Conrad looks up, the blood in his mouth runs toward the back of his throat, much in the same way it did that night in the van, the night they almost killed him. Conrad gags, leaning forward to spit the blood out.
“That’s the spirit!” Renee exclaims, laughing. “Ah, we’ve got a good broadcast planned out for tonight. Lots of new experiences across the board. You’re gonna love it.”
He chuckles as he walks behind Conrad to the table of tools. Conrad fights the urge to twist in his seat and look what he’s retrieving. It wouldn’t do him any good. He looks at the blood mixed with saliva on the floor.
“A generous patron has paid a thousand dollars for each nail I pull out,” Renee says. “Do you want to know the total amount? Or should we leave it as a guessing game?”
Nausea builds at the thought. Conrad imagines that the camera must pick up how the color drains from his face. He clears his throat, hesitant to speak at all. “You d-… You don’t have to do what they say,” he tries.
“That’s the thing,” Renee says, returning to Conrad’s side. He throws a pair of pliers in the air and catches them again. “I’m not running a scam.”
Conrad looks at the floor, heart beating dizzyingly fast in his head. “You don’t have to,” he says again. “You don’t have to do it. You can—you can do something else.”
“Bargaining?” Renee chuckles. “What would you rather have me do, then? Tell me.”
Conrad swallows. His eyes are starting to burn. “You could h-hit me.”
As soon as he says it, he regrets it, painfully aware that he just asked his torturer to hit him in front of a camera, painfully aware that his words are being broadcast to a crowd of people who are hungry to see him suffer. A sob threatens to rack through him, but he bites it down.
Renee watches him struggling to contain his emotions for a while, then whistles. “You’re going through all five stages of grief right now, aren’t you?” And he laughs.
Conrad just needs a moment. Just a moment to compose himself again, to run his fingers along the rope and recount the ridges, to let his mind disappear into that void.
Renee crouches down behind him and Conrad knows that that moment won’t come. He looks desperately at Davin, but Davin is only looking at the screen, not at him.
Conrad lets out a yelp as a gloved hand grabs hold of his own, he tries to ball his hand into a fist, tries to draw his arm up. “Don’t,” he whispers. “You don’t have to do this, y-you don’t have to—”
When the pliers find leverage under the nail of his left index finger and begin to pull, pain explodes in his hand, shooting up his arm, all the way up to his shoulder, and Conrad screams. It’s as if every nerve in his body has accumulated in the tip of his finger, and every one of them is being ripped apart at once.
“Headphone warning.” Renee chuckles.
Conrad can feel the blood accumulating, can feel the drops dislodge from the tip of his finger and rapidly drip down onto the floor. His teeth are clenched hard, he’s almost hyperventilating. He feels isolated in front of the camera. All they see is his face, contorted in pain.
Maybe Renee realizes that too, because he stands up, pliers in hand, and walks over to hold them up in front of the lens. They’re drenched in blood, holding something in the metal beak. Conrad feels nauseous.
“That’s fucking vile,” Renee tells the camera, twisting the pliers around so it gets a full view. He waltzes back to Conrad, stopping momentarily to hold the pliers up to his face. Conrad blanketly averts his eyes as he tries to get his breath under control.
“Be fucked if I made you eat it, wouldn’t it?” Renee mutters, giggling a little. “Fucking disgusting.”
Conrad feels a pinprick of weight on his thigh as Renee releases his grasp on the pliers to drop the nail in his lap. The revolt in his gut is threatening to make him gag again.
“Don’t worry. I’m gross, but I’m not that gross.”
Renee moves back behind him, and once again, the gloved hand wrestles his own open, this time grasping for the middle finger. Conrad grits his teeth, looking anywhere but the camera as the pain starts again, this time somehow worse.
The moment the last thread of flesh is ripped from the nail bed, and the tugging finally stops, and the blood begins to run, is followed by a strange sense of relief in which Conrad can finally heave in a breath, in which he can see again.
With no pause, Renee moves on to the ring finger.
Conrad feels one beak of the pliers sliding into the space between finger and nail, feels the pressure of the other on top of it. “Stop!” he gasps. “Please stop, Renee, please stop, please—”
To his surprise, Renee does stop.
Conrad watches in disbelief as he steps away from him, but his stomach sinks when he moves to restart the camera again. It’s only then that Conrad realizes he said Renee’s name out loud.
“Apologies for the intermission,” Renee says as he walks back behind Conrad’s chair. “Someone fucked up.” Grabbing a fistful of Conrad’s hair, he yanks his head back, to catch his eye. “No worries,” Renee says. “I have no intention of letting it slide.”
Conrad doesn’t see Renee move, only feels it when a hand wraps around his throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh around his larynx, cutting off air from a chest that desperately needs it. He writhes against his restraints, twisting his body this way and that, a futile attempt to get out of the grasp of the hand that simply keeps squeezing.
Renee’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated and dark, and the edges of his silhouette, illuminated by the spotlights, blur, as Conrad’s vision begins to fail, and his struggle ebbs out.
When Conrad is on the brink of passing out, Renee lets him go, and steps back to watch him heave in breath after breath between coughs.
“Wanna try that again?” Renee says. “I bet we could push it further.”
“N-no,” Conrad gasps. “Don’t—I won’t—I didn’t mean to…”
“I don’t care if you meant to or not. If you fuck up my stream, I get to get creative.”
Conrad shuts his eyes. The word ‘sorry’ lies on his tongue, but he stops himself before he says it out loud.
Renee pulls out every nail on his left hand, except for his thumbnail. Once he’s finally, finally done, Conrad sits back, panting for breath, head swimming from the onslaught, nauseous to the brink of passing out. He can feel a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.
Four thousand dollars. Someone paid four thousand dollars to see that.
Conrad is just relieved that they didn’t pay more.
His relief is short-lived, though. When Renee returns the pliers to the table, Conrad can hear him shuffling with something new.
“I won’t lie,” Renee says, “I’m kind of proud of this next entry. Took some artistic liberties, so I’m hoping that’s alright with our customer.”
Conrad shifts in his seat. Whenever he moves his hand, now, he can feel it in the fresh wounds at the end of his fingers, as a kind of throbbing ache, a kind of pressure, even when he’s not touching anything. His mouth still tastes like blood.
The sound of wood dragging across wood fills the room as Renee pulls a chair over next to his. There’s something in his hand, some kind of metal stick at the end of a wire. Conrad watches as Renee plugs the stick into an electrical socket, swallowing down his blooming fear.
“Do you know what this is?”
Conrad warily shakes his head. He doesn’t want to know.
“It’s a soldering iron,” Renee tells him anyways. “You melt small bits of tin to solder wire together. It takes them a minute to heat up properly.” He sits down facing Conrad’s side, wriggling the soldering iron between his fingers. “I’m gonna brand you,” Renee says, “but I won’t do it like you brand cattle. That’d be inhumane. No, I’m gonna take my time. Draw it out, if you will. Really paint in the details.”
Conrad feels the heat rising in his chest, and his eyes sting. He only tries to steady his breathing.
Renee scoots a little closer. “I spent the whole night yesterday thinking up a cool design. I’m pretty proud of it. So you’re going to have to sit still, you understand?”
Conrad grits his teeth, shaking his head.
Renee flips the soldering iron in his hand and scoots even closer, and then he lets the metal tip of it brush against Conrad’s shoulder. Conrad cries out, shrinking sideways away from the iron. Although he can’t see his skin underneath, the fabric of his shirt has been singed black.
Renee hums with delight. “I’d say that’s hot enough,” he says.
Grabbing Conrad’s arm, he slides his sleeve up over one shoulder, cracks his neck, and lets the soldering iron touch skin.
The pain is almost immediately unbearable. It’s different from the taser, different from the beatings, different from the razor. It burns, like flames licking up the side of his arm, eating away at his flesh, corrosive and raw. Almost immediately, it feels like it has gnawed through to bone, charring the chalky white.
“Stop!” Conrad screams. But Renee keeps going, no matter how many times he yells it, no matter how his short-circuiting mind decides to phrase it. No matter which way he writhes and twists his aching body, no matter how much he pleads for it. The burning does not stop.
Conrad doesn’t know how long he screams until his voice, already hoarse from the last stream, begins to break and give out again. The sounds he lets out whine in his throat, his pleas lose their vowels. At some point they lose the form of words altogether.
And it goes on, and on, and on, until time loses meaning, until Conrad’s sense of self has been confined in the moment, a static still image of white-hot pain that has no end or beginning; it just is, and he can’t escape it.
It feels like a decade passes before Renee finally leans back in his chair to admire his work. The pain doesn’t stop, though. It becomes washed out, fades into a duller constant, but still lingers, seared into his flesh.
“It’s a house, a knife, and then the roof. It’s the attic, see?”
Conrad can’t see much of anything through tears. Once again, he’s out of breath, out of energy to even hold his head up straight. Looking down at his lap, in his periphery, he can see streaks of red running down the side of his arm – blood and another kind of fluid, clearer and less viscous. He refuses to let himself comprehend the smell.
Conrad looks at the camera. Looks into its mechanical eye, and wonders how many people he’s holding eye contact with. How many people are watching the tears and snot stream down his face? How many people are watching him cling to his ragged breathing? How many people are watching the way his blood-stained teeth are clenched in a grimace of agony?
Are they entertained? Does it turn them on? Do they think it’s funny?
Are they enjoying this? This?
Conrad looks away. Looks at the wall, as Renee gives a short monologue and moves to turn off the camera for good. Looks at the floor, where his blood has created new stains, found new grooves in the wood to seep into. His arm is still burning, still hot. He can feel the pulse in his fingers.
After Renee has left, and Davin is untying him from the chair, his breathing begins to slow down, and his tears stop flowing.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Davin says.
But Conrad just sits there.
He finally feels empty enough to ask the question, or rather, empty enough to hear the answer. Empty enough to look Davin in the eye, one dead stare meeting the other.
“Are you going to kill me? Once it’s over?”
The silence, the hesitation, should speak for itself, but it somehow doesn’t. A muscle in Davin’s jaw works, as if he ponders how to phrase it.
Conrad waits, silently bleeding.
Finally, Davin takes a deep breath, and answers.
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And Some Wonder Why I Carry A Sidearm
Well, I'm up all night monitoring my security cameras again.
Got woke up a little bit ago when someone threw a rock at my window, luckily it hit the wall next to the window. When they ran, they left a shopping cart that had some things in it. The police just left with a copy of the video but told me that most likely it was one of the local potheads that has been vandalizing, doing assaults and break ins, in the area and they wouldn't take the cart of things in since most of it looked like junk and was most likely to be thrown away in a month or so. As such, it was mine now to do with as I wanted. Just got some free tools and a few other items I guess.
The cameras caught whomever it was pushing the cart. When they got to my front gate they stopped and chucked the rock, but it didn't get a good picture of the person. So now I'm just going to sit here and watch all night in case they come back.
Edit:
To the knucklehead who just anon messaged me saying that we should legalize marijuana and the problem will go away. It is legal here you idiot and we still have people doing assaults and break ins to get money to pay for their "legal" habit. Someone I went to church with her brother was arrested for forging checks he stole from her to buy his legal pot and pay his fine from his previous arrest. He had a felony 2nd degree theft conviction (he got 18 months) because he stole some of their grandma's jewelry to buy his legal pot.
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DEVBLOG 01: Finding The Game Direction.
This blog post will take the role of being the central mood board (?) for the game that I am developing. It will go into detail about the inspirations for this game, fundamental game info and mechanics, development tools and methods I will use and stuff like that.
About the Game.
The game will be a Topdown 2D pixel art action RPG/loot collector type game. This game will take place on a HUGE open world with a lot of unique regions for the player to discover. They will have towns with many unique interact-able NPCs (and sometimes the player can battle and kill them to get their items), forests, caves, dungeons and so much more! There will be a huge verity of creatures both hostile and friendly that the player may encounter. And sometimes the player can even tame them
And there will be a very complex combat system too!!
Key inspirations for this game.
Where do I even begin ToT
If I were to be honest I’d have about 100 different inspirational elements I can list down for this game but for the sake of being readable I’ll list down only the a few key ones
1. Terraria and Stardew Valley
Probably THE biggest inspiration for this game are these two games (they have had a huge impact on my late childhood)
The game I have in mind will at its core be something like terraria with open world mechanics, tons of bosses and creatures and loot to collect, but it will also be top down like Stardew Valley. But make no mistake I don’t plan to make a rip-off of these games!
2. The Binding Of Isaac.
The combat system (at its basic level that is, I plan to make the combat mechanics much more complex later on) for my game will be similar to the one seen in TBI. Even though it’s a pretty standard and popular mechanic this game is the first instance I’ve been exposed to it so I shall credit it here :)
3. Final fantasy (anime), JJK, That Time I got Reincarnated as a Slime, Overlord
These anime are also very important inspos for a lot of my ideas that I wish to incorporate into my game.
Basic Game Info.
Name: I still haven’t come up with a name for this game. If you have any suggestions please let me know ;-;
Game style: this will be a 2d pixel art game with a topdown camera.
Genre: Action RPG and Loot Collector
Combat mechanics: the basic combat mechanic will be the same as the one seen in TBI, where you move the character using the W, A, S, D keys and you attack using the arrow keys. Pressing any arrow key will result in the player initiating an attack in that direction.
There will be two main combat classes each containing their own sub classes.
1 . Mele class
• Sword subclass
• Sword and shield subclass
• Dual sword subclass
• Spear subclass
2. Ranged class
• Bow and Arrow subclass
• Mage subclass
• Projectile launcher (gun) subclass
The Reputation system, Item system and NPC battle system.
See I plan to include a mechanic where depending on the situation you can kill any NPCs which will have a positive or negative on your player reputation. It works like this and is tied to the game’s collectible item system.
See each item you can collect are scarce and limited. For each play through, there will be a set number of a particular item that the world will contain. And guess what, almost all NPCs have the same likelihood as the player to collect these items.
So for example:
Let’s say a single play through of this game can have 10 instances of a common item x, meaning the player or NPCs can only find a maximum of 10 copies of this item for this entire play through.
And the rarer the item, the less copies of it will be available in the game world. (Legendary and Mythical items will only have one instance per play though)
While most items can be traded, some items become bound to the person who discovers it. And these items can not be traded by anyone, and to obtain a bound item from an NPC the player will have to challenge them an kill them to get it. As that is the only way to unbind such an item. And since all items are limited, if an NPC finds a Legendary or Mythical item before the player, the player will never be able to discover or obtain that item unless taken from that NPC
And doing so will forever kill the NPC and bar the player from certain story quests and game endings. And on top of that depending on the situation it may either positively or negatively impact the player’s reputation. A mechanic that determines how other NPCs interact with the player.
Development.
Development has officially started on 02/05/2024!!!
The team: Me ToT, and sometimes I’ll ask my close friends to help out with game assets and stuff cus they are mad talented when it comes to art ✨
Game engine: Unity, I was originally opting to use Godot but I ran into a lot of walls cus there just isn’t enough free tutorials available to implement all the mechanics I want into the my game.
Final words
Just wanted to let you Im still a student so I’ll only be developing this game on my free time and so it will probably take years to finish development. I plan to finish it with in 3 years hopefully. And if you have any suggestions at all please feel free drop them in the comments:)
That’s all for this blog folks!
- Wazda the Great Penguin
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Today on Skeledude's Mind Palace
I saw the Distinction level students personal project and started worrying. I had the chance to see some of the previous students work. The teacher told us it was a distinction level project, and that already made me a bit worried. We went through the first week.
Are you sure this girl isn't writing a novel? That's more words than I type in a year!
These are some of the longest words and sentences combined together. This gave me a lot of stress, you know how bad it got. I was thinking about using an Ai to help me write, I was so desperate that I almost threw away my morals. But I didn't.
This may not be the greatest, but it’s made by me, that's what matters the most. Maybe I won’t get a distinction, but that’s not like the end of the world, that's America.
Ai art is like a remix, these Ai artists (if you can even call them artists) use a pre-built tool to mash up a multitude of images and print out a new one, just like a DJ, except for the fact that DJ’s actually have talent. I’m not worried about Ai taking over my job, just like how painters never got replaced by cameras, art is forever worthy in the hands of a person. As intelligent creatures we have emotion that transcends from one to another. Art isn’t something you can say in a formula, it’s a complex feeling that humans understand, you experience art. I just hope others can understand.
Kind of hard to take a machine seriously, then again, in the future who knows, maybe they’ll give the Ai feelings, and what I said would be wrong.
(but we can still tell the difference between a set of hands better)
(I'm here from the future, I realize the next few parts aren't related to making comics, I was so worried about not filling the word count that I just let my mind loose, I'll just put it in the description of thinking process which happens to come out from comic)
I'm not a teacher, at least not yet.The difference between a teacher who knows an answer and a student who knows an answer is whether they could explain it. I could know how to do something without understanding the reasons behind it, just thinking and doing, a teacher is different in the fact that they really think and do, they know the cause and effect. Teachers can explain, teachers can teach.
Students learn, reading is learning. Here we are reading me teaching you the basics of making a comic, guess I'm finally the teacher then. I'm going to teach you my process.
“Everything is nothing but nothing is something”, this is a quote I just made up, it could mean something which is also nothing at all. The thing with art is everyone has their own interpretation, a quote is an art form, could mean anything, “All roads lead to Rome” could mean everything will sort out in the end, it could also mean that Rome is a structurally failed city because people can,t get out of there.
I’ve been giving you kind of a lecture haven’t I.
I don’t want to sound like I’m better, that’s below me, so you’re saying you’re better than yourself, maybe, How can a person be better than before, improving.
I could sound like the most narcissistic person in this project, but at the same time this is my project. I keep using ‘’I’’, because what else am I supposed to use, “I’’ is the first person pronoun. Maybe I’ll use my name, But I don’t want to type “Jim” every time I need to refer to myself. Guess “I” is the way to go. Does calling yourself in the third person form make you more narcissistic? Possible. Maybe I got the word ”narcissist” wrong. Thinking of yourself as worthy of compassion is not being a narcissist.
Self-awareness is not a personality, It's more of an action that you take, I’m aware of the people around me. I’m aware that there are an infinite amount of thoughts and actions happening everyday thanks to these people. Being self aware is important.
I could think of a thousand ideas, the problem is I wouldn’t have the place to store them, if only there was some kind of machine that could hook up my brain to printer or sorts, print out a thousand ideas a second, maybe it will read some inaccurate ideas, those inaccurate ideas are my thinking process.
Perception is the existence of neurons in your head, every action you take is thought beforehand, then taken information from the database in your head to calculate a proper solution. You think, therefore you are.
#mindset#mindfulness#perception#meaning#understanding#purpose#storytelling#oc#comics#comic books#being
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VOXBREAKER
Oh dear.
Well, let's go through my camera photos and see what I've been up to since the turn of the year...
First up, my amazing Secret Santa from the community - a beautifully painted and heavily tooled up marine, who I ran as a Reiver Lieutenant in my first game of the year.
My lore for him is that he has been seconded from another Great Company to better hone his skills behind enemy lines.
Speaking of my first game of the year, I got in a Tempest of War game at my local club against an opponent I missed out on playing at the end of last year's Crusade League.
A narrow (2 points difference!) victory against Tyranids in the end, with Herja continuing her streak of charging into the nastiest thing on the board, a Swarmlord this time (the lead photo - it didn't go well for her).
This was also the first game post-Armour of Contempt and the points drops, so it was surprising how many models I had on the board!
With a new Crusade League starting up, and with the Phobos-heavy Vanguard Spearhead rules expiring in June (surely not because everything was?), I decided that would be what I ran. My one concession was that I would run them as Wolfspear in order to open a few more relevant options with regards Warlord Traits and Relics.
It also meant that I needed to get this two built and painted...
...as well as a chance to paint up and (finally) run some Hounds of Morkai.
But first! An away weekend with a community meet-up, this time at Bristol Independent Gaming. Games included my regular foe of the Emperor's Children...
...Ragnar Blackmane carving people up in a 4-way Boarding Actions game...
...and a punishing game against a Nurgle and Khorne daemon army.
The Crusade League was then up-and-running when I returned. My opening round at 25 Power Level was a bye, and then a game against Orks run by the Tyranid player from earlier. A good game, but I was well and truly krumped.
I then concentrated on my reinforcements for the 50PL round of game, and managed to get two more Eliminator squads and one of my Invictors ready in time for a family photo.
That next round involved a game against Necrons, and then Chaos Knights. Two narrow defeats mean that my only points so far are from my first round bye, but at least the boys are getting a run out I guess.
And now I'm getting models ready for the 75 and 100PL rounds. The Reivers and Incursors are ready for the next set of games (bar the base rims), and I'm already working on the second Invictor from earlier for the final round.
And once that's all wrapped up, it'll be time for 10th edition! The rules previews have all looked extremely promising, and I'm looking forward to the crumb of information we'll be given about Space Wolves tomorrow. And I'll have a pretty big all-Phobos army ready for it as well! (Oh, and all the Death Guard from Christmas? They're all primed too!)
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For some reason tumblr isn't letting us reply to this ask "properly", so fuck it, text post time. Hope you see this, anon.
Oh boy. Well, we often end up telling this story because a lot of systems tell us they've never seen anything like it before, but if you guys do have something similar you have my sympathy. Dealing with it wasn't easy, it wasn't fun, and we were very lucky that someone (Vimes) showed up to stop it from causing further harm.
This story may be disturbing; it also talks about events in our inner world. For any non-systems reading this, the Inner World is a visual reference tool that out system gives us in order to better understand the mood and mental state of parts. It gives us unique appearances "in our head", and gives us ways to work through our trauma by creating memories of places and each other within it. This isn't a hallucination or a delusion; it's our subconscious adapting to dissociative parts that act like separate people, and sometimes it can do just as much harm as good.
(Continued under the cut)
So here's the thing - when you have DID/OSDD (at this point we're not sure which one) and your brain has been suppressing almost everything about this for a long time, often it has a lot of catching up to do. Alters can start to emerge very quickly, either coming out of dormancy or spontaneously forming from specific types of trauma. What happened in our case, though, was every single trauma "category" that hadn't formed an alter yet got stuck together. And this didn't form one alter with a lot of trauma; instead it formed a kind of huge "pseudo-alter", one that manifested not with an in-system body, but as an entire place within our inner world. That was The Red Forest.
Initially, we thought it was just another place. A forest full of birch trees with bright red leaves, with a thick carpet of red leaves covering the floor - it was completely silent, and even the sounds of footsteps and voices sounded odd, like something was stopping the sound from traveling. Needless to say, it gave us all the creeps. But then we saw someone new come out of the Red Forest - and we figured okay, sure, I guess this is how our brain handles this now. Alters have to come from somewhere, so this is where alters come from. I even went in there once myself, riding on the back of Rakugaki (now a part of Anarchy) because I could sense there was someone in there who was lost, and that was how we found Holiday.
Oh boy, was that a mistake.
Turned out The Red Forest didn't just feel hostile; it was hostile, in the sense that a wild animal whose territory you just invaded is hostile. All that unresolved trauma hadn't formed something intelligent; it'd formed a huge pile of hurt, anger, fear and pain, that was now aware of where the pieces that kept breaking off it kept going. Within a few days we started to hear horrible noises in the front, like tearing metal or animals being slaughtered, and then the entire thing - the entire Red Forest in itself - attempted to front. It over-wrote our fronting room and dropped all of us right in the middle of it, only withdrawing when it realized it couldn't actually control the body in the state it was in. But nonetheless it took out its rage on Chaos; unlucky enough to get trapped inside of it, it ended up being injured in the Inner World, something that can't normally happen unless someone really wants someone else to be hurt.
The first thing it said upon finally getting out - after me and Rakugaki went in there again and spent three real-world hours trying to find it - was "don't go in there, it hates us".
We're only lucky that the very next alter I spotted emerging from the forest - from a safe distance, on our in-system "cameras" - was Vimes. He's a specific type of gatekeeper we call a Jailer, who can lock down areas of the Inner World, and he was able to keep the Red Forest contained where it was. He was able stop it from fronting (though it certainly didn't stop trying) and was able to go in there with his lantern - back then, our Inner World's only representation of hope - and lead other alters to join the rest of us. We put a contingency plan ("Operation Kaiju") in place in case it ever escaped containment. But even at its worst we only ever enacted the first half of that; I realized it could be reasoned with, and attempted basic communication through Vimes' barrier. It only ever said one thing with words, and it was "thank you".
After the emergence of Jenova, The Red Forest "died" on July 31st 2023, and no longer exists in our system. Our remaining alters found their way to us of their own accord. Chaos still has a special bond with Vimes, and has made him part of its ever-growing adopted family. And we've marked the date on our calendar as our system's Collective Birthday, because it marked the beginning of the end of our system discovery.
Whatever you have in your system, anon, I hope our story inspires yours to handle it however you can. Trust in each other, put your unique abilities and skills to good use, and work together. It's the only way to move forward.
- Terry, Martin & Leaf
#Shit Terry Says#Tea And Sympathy#(Leaf doesn't have a personal tag but it says it might add one later)#Adventures in OSDD
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LU has me by the throat again, I'm working on some drabbles right now to figure voices out but heres an au idea i NEED to get out regardless if i ever make fic/art for it
modern LU ghost hunter au inspired by the "Wind sees ghosts" tag ans the vibes of 111 Winchester
Most Links have had a brush with a "spirit world" in some way or another so i feel like this is a hobby that could bring them together. everyone brings something different to the table
Wind sees ghosts (duh), has pretty much all his life. So does Spirit cause they're like cousins or smth. Wind wants to do an investigation on a creepy old house with lots of reported activity (shit's like haunted haunted, almost no one has been able to go inside). He figures he needs a team on this one and puts out a call on a paranormal forum he frequents. you'll never guess who responds
Four is haunted by the Colors as spirits that have attached themselves to him. They are relatively harmless, though they're kinda stuck to his soul and no one's sure how to feel about this. As far as he knows he's the only one who can see or hear them. they can posses Four one at a time but he really does not like suddenly not existing in his own body. Four's not much of a ghost hunter but he does know plenty about using metals and tools to dispatch evil spirits. He's in this mostly for answers about his own haunting
Legend and Hyrule are long-distance friends and the only ones to know each other before the investigation. Magic exists in this setting, but is not widely practiced, and Hyrule is VERY well-versed in magic (im calling magic practitioners "witches". Wild is one too) Rulie's very sensitive to dark and light energies, and has honed sigil and casting skills. Legend is on the more physical side of things, wielding artifacts and cursed objects from his large collection of...stuff. He's been cursed more than a few times himself. Legend also supplies some goofy ghost hunt equipment, but Twi has most of that covered
Twilight can step into the spirit world with Midna's help, where his spirit often takes the form of a wolf to protect him. He's got a sense for dark energies and can directly confront these malevolent creatures where others might have trouble perceiving them. Aside from that hes the camera guy. He brings the flashlights, the recorders, any equipment he can carry.
Wild is their Guy In The Chair bc he insists they need someone on the outside. I've decided his presence determines whether they get the Good or Bad ending
so turns out this place is like BAD haunted and oh no! Once the boys go in they can't find a way out
the house is a nexus, drawing in as many souls as it can and just feeding on them. There's also probably demons too but like the place itself is imbued with bad evil energy. Time and Wars are here but they are ghosts, drawn in and trapped for longer than they can remember. They are pretty much the only friendly ones here
Twilight finds Sky trapped in the Spirit World side of the house. think like he entered a Silent Realm and couldn't get out. Twi is able to pull him out bc of his weird dark world shit (on the outside Sky has been a missing person for months)
That's uh enough for now I think. enough of an outline for me to come back to. i am very normal about this fledgling idea
#looooong post#lu ghost hunt#linked universe au#if i did write a fic it WOULD be called 111 Winchester#that song slaps#and is also a good indicator of the spooky ghost Bad Time that happens here
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Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 08x19 Taxi Driver
“Kinky”
laughter “what the fuck”
“oh convenient timing”
“That’s an easy way to find a demon”
“If I ever felt like a joker and lived in the sticks, I’d paint a devil’s trap on the roads”
“Do red eyes mean something different?”
Crossroads
“What about Crowley? He has red eyes. What about this guy’s?”
“They cut that in. The reverb in the back didn’t match”
“Wouldn’t a demon who wants death be a pretty useful tool?”
laughter
“The look on his face is funny as fuck”
“They have who they need to move now”
“Man they change the rules on this so many times”
“Is it exactly from when he crosses the border? Gives the nod? When is he exact?”
“That’s some serious fkn drugs”
screaming like the show
“They’re in Purgatory now”
“Are they implying that they double crossed him?”
“Why did he flash his demon blade in front of the reaper?”
“Why are the French fries in blue containers?”
“Why don’t they just bring him back to the bunker?”
“he’s really pushing those fries”
“somebody is going to gank this asshole or something”
“oh hi”
“he doesn’t have any virtues?”
“really?”
“Is Crowley going to kill him?”
“goddammit”
“Those angel blades look really hard to clean. Not designed for that sort of thing”
“They also look incredibly dull”
“too much breathing”
“That rock is going to disintegrate”
“as soon as it hits the ground”
“what is that? His watch?”
“Or is he making a breadcrumb trail?”
“That was lucky”
“How is that life changing?”
“Who is Tori Spelling?”
she had a reality show or something back in the day
“Comparing pedicure notes with Dean or something?”
“what a fkn dick”
“It’s just my job, I’m just doing my job”
“huh”
“Is he saying that to be funny?”
“OH he’s dead as fuck”
“Don’t bother covering it up or nothing”
“oh shit”
laughter “what the fuck”
“wait where the fuck were they? I guess he moved or something. I don’t know what happened”
“So he’s asking Benny to sacrifice himself to go to Purgatory again? That’s fucked up”
“This is kinda ridiculous actually. Yeah the way back to purgatory is cutting your head off so let’s do that actually”
“That’ll look real weird on the security camera”
“So we know that monsters go to purgatory even though they got out again?”
“That was quick”
“Don’t bother cleaning the blood off or anything”
“As if we already didn’t know”
“Ok”
“What is up with all this self-sacrificial shit?”
“that didn’t look so good”
“To hell and back in one episode. A hobbit’s tale”
“What’s the dude who plays Malcom Reynolds in Firefly? He sounded just like him right there”
“She got offended real easily there. I mean Crowley does similar”
“what? OK?”
“Maybe don’t put your sigils on glass”
“If we put in a new floor, I’m 100% putting a devils trap underneath it”
“uh huh”
“Is there going to be a note from Crowley on the table?”
“Hey the windows are intact”
“Oh”
“Was it all in his head?”
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