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3 yrs ago
my life be like OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
2 likes
3 yrs ago
I am also not like other girls. I am not a girl.
4 likes
4 yrs ago
NEVER forgive. ALWAYS forget. Remain in a perpetual state of confusion and anger forever!
16 likes
4 yrs ago
Honey is the best insect vomit I’ve had so far.
2 likes
4 yrs ago
It's fucked up that there are 1000 Christmas songs but only one song about the boys being back in town.
9 likes

Bio

A letter of recommendation:





People on my junk mail list <3

@Dragonbud
@Maxx
@The Ghost Note
@Luminous Beings
@SepticGentleman
@Spoopy Scary
@Skai

Most Recent Posts

Banned for circlejerking.
i've been counter-shitposted
im trying to sneak through the base, but im dumb thick and the clap of my ass cheeks keeps alerting the guards
Someone needs to make Florida man a character


Dont you dare encourage people to appropriate my culture
Matthew Detmer


@Ruler Inc


"I should have called, but the longer I wanted, the more I thought that it was too late and that you met some girl with big titties and forgot about me. I know I was hurt over... over his death, but I can't blame all of it on him. Look, all I can say is... I'm sorry. I want to try again, I want to fix things, and if you don't then I'll gladly be out of your hair. I promise."

Matt blushes, the heat crawling under his skin and blossoming ever so slightly under his cheeks. Then, suddenly, out of no where, he begins to laugh. A loud, breathless laugh. He laughs at himself. He laughs at her. He laughs at their confessions. He laughs at them.

Finally, when his hysterical euphoria calmed, Matt looks over to Amanda, though there is also warm concern mixed into the mirth. He rubs at his eyes, spilling over with crazy tears, and turning away to dab at his eyes with the tail of his shirt.

"We're both messes, aren't we?" he asks when he turns around, his eyes still somewhat glassy but twinkling. Matt nods, gulping in deep breaths. He leans forward, elbows on the counter, his hands cradling his face. Matt glares at his hands. "When you left...I didn't know what to feel. I will admit that I was a dense idiot— hell, I still am a dense idiot— but Amanda, you did meant something to me. I matured with you. I will admit that with all my heart. You, without even knowing it, had shown me that life wasn't all about screwing around. At least not entirely."

He looks up and his eyes are unwavering. "Maybe I am simple minded. Maybe I am dense. But when you left, something in me changed." He pats his heart lightly as he spoke. "I didn't say anything back then because I cared about you. I really wanted you to find yourself. I wanted you to be happy." His fists clench. "But when you left, just like that? You and I... we had stumbled through the dark forests together for so long. We had grown together. I thought to myself: Wasn't that more important? her happiness?"

Matthew pauses, backtracking for a moment. "Okay. I...I guess I understand. You left for a reason, and I respect that. But then I needed to move on too. I made a lot of friends, I did. I'll have to introduce you to this guy Israel. Anyway, if that's the case, then yes. Yes, you're right, you aren't the only on in my life anymore." His forehead wrinkles, depressing the skin between his eyes. "But you wrote a chapter into my life that I know I can't live without."

There is a silence between the two of them. A pregnant pause that preludes to something more.

"I- don't know if I can promise anything. I want to. I do." he says, "But I do want to fix things, too." He sighs.

"A lot has changed," he continues, and the words have never rung clearer.

Matthew walks out of his tiny kitchen, approaching Amanda for the first time in this interaction's evolution. Slowly, he sits down next to her, seemingly debating for a moment before gently placing his hand on Amanda's, his rough hands feeling the weight and form of hers for the first time in years. The residual laughter bubbling in Matt's chest automatically halts as his heart screeches to a standstill, screaming something is happening, something is happening!

"...And a lot hasn't," he whispers. After another second of searching her face, Matt lets go and reaches for large mason glass containing the water he poured for them earlier. He sips the now-lukewarm beverage. Matt exhales in a breathy rush.

He sighs and givens her a small smile. A bright, embarrassed grin, and it's such a youthful, Matt-like grin that Amanda suddenly realizes: they really haven't changed. They've certainly trekked through many different paths in the past several years, but in the end, they always return to square one: traveling down this road—their road—so many times now that it's as simple as breathing. She's like a book to him, with a worn out spine, pages folded, comfortably heavy in his palms. It's something he can hold on to, these shared memories, and the weight actually means something; it reminds him of everything he's done, everything he's learned, everything he's achieved.

It's been a long time, but he already knows all the words by heart.

There's no need for bookmarks here; the page numbers are simple. He could flip to them with his eyes closed. So, smiling, Matt leans back against the couch and shuts his eyes for a moment. Doing just that.

Across the table, Amanda watches quietly, her lips curving up at the sides. "What are you doing?" she asks when curiosity finally gets the best of her.

Matt shakes his head and focuses his eyes back on her. They're bright and alive and everything she's ever imagined them to be.

"Remembering," he whispers softly, as if it explains everything.

And somehow, it does just that.

Henry Olin, Drake Blackmore, and Tiamat


Written with: @Ruler Inc, @WrongEndoftheRainbow


"Course, Agent SNAX... is that supposed to be "Snacks"? Eh, doesn't matter, should I transform? I can be right there with my lightning form! Or... Sonya's form could be helpful..."

“Course it does. Have you see my fat ass? I dont keep this figure by dieting, y’know.” Henry replied, the edges of his lips curling upwards. He was self aware enough to know that in the military or the military police, showing weakness or distaste for a nickname was the best way to be exclusively referred to as that nickname. “Had to change it after someone put me down as a recommendation and asking for a callsign reminiscent of my own.”

There was more gunfire, and then silence once again. Henry returned himself to the matter at hand, but not without a quick quip. “C’mon Drake, you’re telling me a special agent like you can’t think on the fly?” he said, flashing a dangerous smile to the Blackmore and taking off in the direction of the sounds. He knew that in either form, Drake could easily keep up and overtake him any day of the week- but Henry’s senses would make him the bloodhound, and he would need to follow the lizard to the source regardless of which form he chose.

“Yeah, just wanted your… opinion, first.” Drake said, before ultimately deciding to be subtle. What was it Adam always said? Assess the situation, or don’t go in head first shooting lightning everywhere. Okay, Drake took in a deep breath as his skin coloration changed to a dark-blue color, with black spots all over him. He grew massive eyeballs and huge bulbous fingertips… and people looked on in horror and amazement. Had some degree of familiarity with this form, as Sonya gave it to him accidentally… and kept giving it back to him whenever he lost it to annoy him. So he knew the basics, and it’s greatest strength....

… He’s got hops. Drake hopped high up into the air onto the nearest building and continued hopping as he followed after Henry. He probably had a better idea of where it was than Drake, so he’d trust the older Agent’s judgement.

Henry took off running, at first on two legs, but then transitioning onto all fours as he picked up the pace. He swerved from the sidewalk to the road as he exceeded twenty and then thirty miles an hour as to become less dangerous to pedestrians. Henry was the size of a car, and was now moving almost as fast as one, so for all intents and purposes he elected to treat himself as such. The gunshots were long gone now, with the only sounds being the regular hustle and bustle of the city. But the scent of blood and gunpowder was strong. Any normal person would have difficulty tracking the skirmish so quickly, but Henry and Drake were no normal people.

Henry arrived first, since he was tracking for Drake. His gallop slowed as the scent of iron and death grew stronger. Eventually, Henry stopped altogether to survey his surroundings. He was in the industrial district, nearing the warehouses. He raised his nose to the air and flicked his long forked tongue. He was in the general vicinity now, and his sense of taste would be more effective than his sense of smell. He followed his tongue to a warehouse, taking note of the scattered brass and bloodstains- including a very prominent streak leading into the warehouse. There were bits of shredded tissue, and the blood was dark red. It was impossible to tell exactly what type of injury the owner of said blood had sustained, but it had been grievous in nature.

Meanwhile, Drake Blackmore had finally landed at the entrance; Henry was a lot faster in a straight line than he was, waaaay faster. However, Drake had finally caught up and cautiously approached the warehouse. To say that he felt a little naked was an understatement; his armor was like second skin to him! However, with Sonya’s enhanced senses at his disposal, it was hard to get caught off guard.

Henry shook, being brought back very suddenly to the events of Verthaven. He shuddered, but pressed forward. Reaching for his belt and removing a large and heavy flashlight. He turned the light on, and took a breath- pushing the warehouse doors open. In the warehouse proper there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary, other than the lights being faulty or smashed -- which wasn’t unusual for older warehouses. Along abandoned boxes and pallets, though, hidden in nooks and crannies weapons and bodies could be found. They seemed hastily abandoned, though with some degree of thought placed into keeping them concealed from casual sight. Henry approached one of the hiding spots, and with one arm, slid the boxes and pallets a few inches away. He stopped when the contents they were hiding dislodged themselves with a wet splat at his feet.

Jesus- okay.” Henry said, both horrified and surprised. He had seen things like this before. Many, many times. Not exactly this type of butchering, but seeing people in this… state was not something he was a stranger too. Yet, every time he felt his stomach twist when he saw it. They even had some of their heat signatures left. Their bodies were still warm. This would be a lot of paperwork.

The white goliath knelt down by the corpse- noting that the body was headless. Or at least, it was mostly headless. There was a piece of metal lodged in the skull cavity that had cooked it from the inside out. It had been a quick, clean kill. But that’s not what interested him. What interested him was that the body bore the telltale signs of a REAPER agent. Black, military grade body armor, well armed, based off of a destroyed high caliber weapon of some sort that had also been stuffed in further back- behind the body. He flicked his tongue, confirming his suspicion as the faint, caustic smell of chemical was also in the air. REAPER agents oftentimes dissolved, and corrupted after death- making it impossible to identify the individual. Henry stood up to his full height once more. REAPERs were no joke. Whomever killed this agent was obviously good at what they did, because there were other bodies around the room. He could taste them.

He heard the clanking of the Warehouse door being opened and turned his head, ready for anything, but visibly relaxed when he saw that is was Drake that had entered the building.

“Welcome to the afterparty.” Henry said sarcastically. “Careful not to touch anything. Don't want anyone thinking that we had a hand in this when we call it in.”

Drake merely huffed, “What? Do I look two?” He sarcastically asked as he looked around. Henry let out what could only be described as a muffled ‘Sorry’ in response. There was a body on the floor clad in black armor by Henry that Drake almost immediately recognized with all the encounters with it; REAPER. He almost smirked, as the REAPER got what he deserved… but he had a question that was on everyone’s mind.

“... Real question is who killed him?” Drake said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t think the average Floridan has the skills or resources to pull this off.”

Metal creaked above them, dust falling from the rafters. Before either of them could shine a light up into the rafters, Tiamat jumped down. She slammed into the ground just behind Drake, her polearm unsheathed. Within a moment of landing, she had turned on the polearm, and it rapidly began to glow.

The heat was unbearable, and with its proximity to Drake, was likely to leave a burn. Henry could easily feel the residual heat coming off of it. Tiamat told Drake, “Don’t move,” before looking over at Henry. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“The fuc-” Drake shouted as a… fucking robot (???) fell from the sky in front of him, holding a hellish weapon right in front of his face. Okay, this thing was definitely hot, too hot for him to handle. He tried to think of a way out of it… he had his electric form, but the problem was that, by the time he transformed, it would be inside of him and he didn’t want that. He looked at Henry as he tried to suck it up… fortunately, Sonya’s form gave him a layer of slime that made heat less effective. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean immune, and that was so hot that it was drying him up.

Henry froze. Instantly being brought back to Verthaven again. But in Drake’s place, was Adam. He couldn’t let this happen. Not again. Despite the scaled up and modified P90 strapped to his hip being a tempting option, Henry elected to raise his hands instead. He was beginning to smell the burning.

“Move the weapon. You’re hurting him. Stop that and I’ll answer your questions.” the behemoth replied.

Tiamat looked both of them over, assessing weapons, before saying, “First, big lizard, drop your weapons and radio, kick them away, and then your friend will do the same. Then I’ll give you space, okay? Not a moment before.”

“Only weapon I got here is the only thing stopping you from melting me, bud.” Drake added flatly.
Henry did as told, simply reaching down and slicing the strap of his firearm with his claw, then kicking it towards Drake and Tiamat. “Your turn.” he said.

Tiamat paused for a moment to survey Henry further, before, satisfied, kicking Drake in the behind to force him over to Henry, before unholstering her pistol and pointing it at the two. “Now, who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Are you okay, Drake?” Henry said, raising his hands instead of reaching down to help him up. As much as he’d like to help his friend, making any unnecessary movement in this situation was less than optimal.

“... My ass.” Drake groaned when he finished stumbling over.

Henry looked up at the offending robot, who was now aiming a gun at him. He could cover the distance between them in two- maybe three steps. He didn’t know what the gun was capable of, but it probably couldn’t kill him. At least not outright. The issue came in that he was not looking to chance it today. Not on Drake’s dime.

“Thank you. FAMA Special Agent Olin.” Henry said, meeting the robot’s gaze, or at least, where he thought it’s gaze was. He slowly lowered his arm to point at the badge on his chest, over his heart to prove his allegiance. “We specialize in metahuman affairs. We followed the signs of the shots. Noticed you killed a REAPER agent. Thanks for that.”

He was talking too much, and he knew it, but he was also attempting to deescalate the situation. “We’re not with them. Please put the firearm away. There’s been enough people killed here.”

It was Drake’s turn.

“FAMA Agent Drake Blackmore,” Drake introduced himself. “And we can talk about this; we don’t need to fight, shoot each other, or any of that.”

“Last time I was told that by a FAMA agent, they reported the encounter, REAPER got word, and Chicago was swarming with them. So forgive me if I’m going to play it cautious.” was all Tiamat said, before continuing, “Now, are you going to report this? To anybody?”

“You’re just going to have to trust the good guys to do the right thing.” said Henry. “If you’re looking for protection from REAPER, we can offer that. I can offer that.”

She shook her head, saying, “You really have no idea how widespread REAPER is, then.”

“I know for a fact that I know them better than you think. My associate here was recently targeting Abel himself. Isn’t that right, Drake?” Henry cast his eyes down to Drake, then back up to the robot.
“Yeah, there ain’t nothing more than I want than that bastard behind bars,” Drake growled… but he was wondering what in the world this robot’s been through. “You gotta trust us, we can all get to the bottom of this.” He depowered, his amphibian skin turning into smooth flesh.

“Just put the gun down. We don’t have to have a conversation this way.”

“Yeah, and let me guess what happens if I follow you to wherever your HQ is: REAPER gets word, and you aren’t prepared to repel a massed assault. The only way I can stay here is if nobody knows about these bodies.”

“Then don’t follow us back to base. You don’t trust us, fine. Give us the opportunity to earn it. Just put the gun down.”

Tiamat continued to hold the gun up, responding with a angrily modulated sentence, “You think I haven’t heard that before? I’ve been on the run all over the world since I could first move, and you really think that’s a-”

Henry moved, 4000lbs of mass accelerating faster than it had any right to. With one hand, he grabbed the firearm where her hands held the pommel, clear of the barrel. But he did not attack her, or even move her hands.

“You asked me to drop my gun. I did. I’m asking you to put the gun down, too. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He stepped in front of the barrel of the gun. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Henry!” Drake shouted as he transformed into his lightning form. Electricity danced off of his skin, striking the wall, as the electricity engulfed him from head to toe. Eventually he looked like a being of electricity. A orb of electricity formed on his hand.

Tiamat continued to hold up the gun after he placed himself in front of it, but though her finger trembled lightly on the trigger, she did not pull it. However, her polearm remained close in a free arm, brought to a defensive stance in response to Henry getting close. She heatedly said back, “If FAMA gets involved, REAPER knows where I am. If they catch me, I go to a REAPER facility to be picked apart, to get at their goddamned superweapon knockoff, and I will have to endure having my mind picked apart to figure out why I didn’t just kill everyone they pointed me at.”

Henry bore the heat of the weapon, refusing to move. He also heard Drake change forms. The robot was now disastrously out gunned. What he did was a risky move, and he knew it, but it would allow them to negotiate on their terms.

“Then FAMA won’t get involved. FAMA Agent Olin will.” he said, his voice smooth, attempting to appeal to the robot’s sense of reason. “When I report this, FAMA will be told that it was gang warfare over the Happiness drug. FAMA cleans it up, and you stay under the radar.” he explained. “Drake and I help you stay out of REAPER’s hands. It is after all, in the public’s best interest.” the lizard said.

“I’m going to let go of your gun now. Please don’t shoot me.” the giant said, releasing the gun and stepping away from the robot, back over to Drake, who was still sparking dangerously.

“Shoot him and I fry you.” Drake affirmed Henry for a moment, as he was definitely.

Tiamat slowly holstered the gun, keeping the polearm out as she eyed Drake’s electric orbs. “Get rid of the REAPER agent first. Word of that gets out, and they’re going to investigate.”

“The agent will dissolve in a few hours.” Henry said. “I’ll wait to report this, you dump the armor in the water when the body is gone.” the giant sighed. “Thank you for putting the gun away.”

“I’m going to keep my routes open in case this entire thing goes bad,” Tiamat simply responded back, backing away. “You better not be lying.”

Henry rumbled, the edges of his lips curling upwards. “You should probably get going, big iron. Don’t worry about us- if we need to talk to you, we’ll find you.”

Tiamat did not hesitate to take advantage of the offer, sheathing the polearm after flicking it off, before grabbing hold of a wrought-iron pillar and climbing it into the rafters. She then made her way out of a smashed skylight. With a few plumes of dust shook from the ceiling as she travelled above it, she left the scene.

Drake crossed his arms as he observed the whole scene, staying silent. He closed his eyes when the robot made her “get-away” and then he depowered. He inhaled, “... REAPER will probably investigate this no matter what we do.” Drake muttered.

Henry, finally breathing in what felt like forever, simply sat down. “Yeah, they probably will.” He said. He looked at his feet, thinking for a moment. “I owe you a beer, by the way. For that rush there. Sorry about that. Tried to catch her monologuing.”

“It’s cool, I was thinking of something way ballsier,” Drake scoffed, Henry grinned at the comment. “But, we have to deal with monsters, super-terrorists, gangsters and now...Robots? Heh, never a dull moment, right?”

“Shoulda seen it back in the day. Things used to get weird.” the great lizard stood up finally, having sufficiently relaxed. “You should get going- see if you can bring a cleanup crew back since I dont have a radio on me. I’ll make sure no one comes by.”

“Yeah, I’ll try to get to HQ,” Drake said as he shifted back into his electric form again. “We’ll meet up again at the festival, yeah?”

“As if I’d ever miss the opportunity to party with a Blackmore.” Henry said, smirking. He waved Drake off. “Now go on, get!”

He smiled as he took flight through the same exit the robot took. Part of him was tempted to go looking for that robot but he had a gut feeling that they’d cross paths again.

And he won’t be the one with a sore ass next time.
I peed and farted and shidded a lil send help
@Spoopy Scary



Found your character in action
Archie


Archie was almost on top of Bianca now, who remained still- either in shock, or unconscious, he did not know or care. All that mattered was that he could still hear her shallow in and out breathes, and more importantly, her heartbeat. He heaved, his massive chest rising in falling as he breathed in and out, his anger building inside of him. He closed his eyes and with an inhuman bellow he raised his mighty arms, only to bring them down towards his incapacitated quarry like mighty tree trunks- intending to crush her where she lay. He heard the pounding of footsteps behind him, but cared little until he felt resistance on his arms- preventing him from finishing the job he started.

He opened his eyes, and saw none other that Natalie- pale, petite, standing above Bianca, holding his arms up. Preventing him from crushing the metahuman. The beast had never been stalemated, or even exceeded in strength before. Out of instinct he heaved, putting not only his strength, but his body weight into his arms, causing Natalie to gasp and struggle to hold him back further- the very ground beneath her feet beginning to succumb to the immense pressure. But she did not give in. The beast, becoming more angry, opened its mighty jaws once more and leaned forward- intending to extinguish the smaller metahuman where she stood.

"Archie, stop! I know you don't want to kill! Trust me, I know better than anyone it'll hurt to live with. I'd want you to stop me too, if I was in your shoes. Please, don't kill her!"

All at once, Archie was brought back to reality, realizing what he was doing- going to do. His jaws shut like a vice grip inches from Natalie's head. Then he drew his body back, very suddenly removing the what must've felt like the weight of the world from Natalie's arms. She held on for but a moment but released when her feet left the ground, the speed and suddenness of him rising to his full height allowed him to escape her grasp. As Natalie's feet met the ground, Archie stumbled away, his hands coming up to his reptilian face as he screamed- his voice becoming more and more human. He fell to his haunches, then his hands and knees- his claws gouging deep canyons into his face as his body muscles contracted and tore away. The great reptile curled in on itself in a rabid, jerky motion, and then fell silent. After a moment, there were deep, agonizing cracking sounds, and then his back began to split and tear away at the spinal column.

There was a low hissing sound as the creature began to ash away, as if burning. The tear in it's back burning like paper until Archie, human and nude Archie, stepped from the rapidly degrading husk of of his previous body. With shaky hands he extracted himself from the chest cavity of the creature, and took a step towards Natalie and Bianca. He fell, but caught himself on his hands and knees.

"I-" He began, looking up to Natalie, meeting her gaze. "Sorry you had to- to see that. Sorry about-"

He didn't finish the sentence, not wanting to talk about the fact that had he been a few seconds longer in reigning back control he would have made an attempt at her life. She hopefully knew. He averted his gaze, and after taking a moment to collect himself he slowly but surely rose to his feet. He was confident, despite being nude- he had obviously been through this song and dance before. He walked up to Natalie, gently pushing her aside (it was more of a suggestion than an actual push, given her strength) so he could kneel down beside the still form of Bianca.

"Look to me." He said sternly. Her eyes were open, but she was staring straight ahead, as if in shock. He grabbed her by the neck and shook her head. "You look to me." He repeated, venom seeping into his tone.

Bianca's eyes made an ever so slight movement, and shifted to meet Archie's intense glare. He did not remove his hand from her neck. "You come for Natalie again, lay a finger on her, be in the same general area, so much as look at her in the wrong way..." he began, leaning close to her face. "and I will kill you all."

He stood, using her neck to assist him on his way up, roughly shoving her back into the dirt. He approached Natalie, his eyes meeting hers once again and never faltering. He had learned from many unplanned streaking trips that it helped keep the attention away from... other areas. He stopped a few feet from her.

"We need to talk." He said simply. "Dunno where we are. You're wearing next to nothing and I'm wearing nothing." He observed. He normally hid clothes in parts of the city where he knew his bestial state liked to prowl, but had no idea where he was relative to those hiding places. It could be meters, it could be miles. "I suggest we go back to the building," he explained. "I'm sure some of them will have clothes they wont... need anymore."

This was going to be a long night.


@Silver Carrot

Henry Olin




"Last time I heard you were stationed in Black Fall. What? Did they send you here to catch Florida-Man?"

Henry gave Adam a large, warm smile and lightly tapped the boy's fist with his own meteor sized hand. In so many other cases, with so many different people, he was treated in some way that wasn't himself. At the Charity Beach FAMA barracks, he was saluted and treated with respect, but he never enjoyed the way that people snapped to attention whenever they saw or heard him coming. As if he was a superior rather than an equal. Granted, several years ago he had operated as a very high ranking official and he maintained that ranking even now- so he couldn't exactly fault those around base. It just made things difficult for him in that it was hard to make friends with anyone because of that bittersweet deference that trailed around them and stuck like some stench. It made them closed off, and worse: It made him unapproachable. More than his appearance already made him.

"Kiddo, c'mon. Are you seeing me? I am Florida man."

A child sped past the docks, paying little mind to the rest of the world until her eyes feel on him. Henry, in that moment realized that it wasn't a child, but a girl. She lackadaisically dropped her jaw and shouted... something that he couldn't understand, but for all his many years of experience was likely an insult. Some quip designed to hurt him, or to get him to some emotional rise- to prove that she was better than him because she was human. Perhaps she thought herself untouchable, or was just plain ol' stupid, or both, to think that provoking people was a good idea. He didn't know or care much. His lips curled up for a moment, revealing the tips of his foremost set of teeth, but then he took a deep breath as the offender disappeared into the crowd. He released the breath in a mighty sigh, deep and rumbling- likely even tangible to Drake, who was close enough to feel the sound.

"And I got transferred here for a little while after a mission gone bad.... We always had that bastard Abel and he fucking changes the game."

Henry gave Drake a somber smile for his benefit, gently patting the young man on the back in an attempt at friendly or even fatherly comfort. He came in contact with a lot of bodies, and handshakes, and smiles, and laughter, and friendly moments. But a friend is something different. Drake and his family had certainly earned his respect, but much like his father- Drake was a friend. People who saw him as a person first rather than an agent, or an official, or a superior, or least of all a beast were hard to come by. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had been happy to see him until this conversation. Henry's face contorted into a deep frown at that thought, but elected to deal with his sense of suppressed depression later. Right now, Drake deserved his full attention.

"Sometimes you can't win 'em all. Think of it as a vacation you're being paid for. You'll get him. Not a doubt in my mind."

He considered offering to invite him back to his table with the little old lady when his attention was stolen away by a far more demanding source. The sound of an acute and powerful pressure differential, the whiplash crack of red hot metal, the sound of thunder. Gunshots, and something else- equally unnatural but distinctly alien. They were soft and distant, barely discernible from the sounds of talking people and the waves of the ocean. He doubted anyone else in the area had even heard it- but his senses were preternaturally powerful. Henry cast a look down to his friend, who likely recognized the look on his face. They had served together in Black Fall- Drake probably had some semblance of an idea of what was coming. They were facing the water now, so they were facing East. The shots were behind him.

West- no, Northwest.

"Gunshots- and something more." Henry stated, as if Drake would take it as obvious. Given their relationship, that probably wasn't too far from the case. "Northwest of here. Wanna come with?"

Drake, unlike Henry, wasn't in uniform. But what would that matter among friends? It's the invitation, the thought, that counts. Plus, the white giant would love to have Agent Dragon along. For old time's sake.


@Ruler Inc
@WrongEndoftheRainbow
Matthew Detmer





There was a muffled 'mmph!' sound when Amanda's lips crashed into his own. A combination of uncertainty and surprise creating the abrupt sound in response to the equally abrupt action. He catches her wrist firmly as it came up to caress his cheek, and when Matthew looks up at her from his seated position his heart nearly stops, the water slipping out of his hand and hitting the carpet floor- pooling around his feet before sinking into the carpet. Amanda doesn't let go, just removes her lips and gently pries his hand from hers, But, we can always make up for lost time, I promise, she says softly, and after all these years she really hasn't changed much, not with those same eyes and smile and hair and oh. Oh.

He's abruptly dizzy and his world tilts dangerously, the sounds of his ceiling fan and the empty glass hitting the floor blurring into a whirling ambiance and it's like tunnel vision, he can't see anything but her, can't feel anything but her hand still wrapped around his wrist, anchoring him and uprooting him all at once, and suddenly everything is comets and supernovas again, dazzling and breathtaking and terrible, it's you, it's you, it's—

That's just the way it's always been though, what did he expect; he builds, and Amanda swings and knocks it all down. Her face contorts in some sort of self doubt, and Matthew doesn't know how to feel about that. The he is suddenly rushed back to reality. He doesn't know how, but somehow, miraculously even, he pulls himself together, every trembling and shaken piece included, and rushes to clean up the mess she- he had made.

He stands up abruptly, almost knocking into her as he does so, only to stumble as he knelt down to pick up the now empty glass. As he grabs the empty container, he realized that he had taken a while to reply to her. "No, no, yeah I-" He breathes, trying to grasp the air for words that are barely forming in his throat before being regurgitated in an attempt to redeem this failure of a conversation. She was so much more put together than him right now. All melodrama and class that was characteristic of a Blackmore. Retrieving the glass, he dared to take a look up at her, and sighed in relief upon seeing that she was turned away from him. He scampered to his feet and into the kitchen, eager to put some distance between himself and her right now. Matthew unceremoniously deposits the glass in the sink, and tries to busy himself by finishing what he started with the carrots, only to cut himself again. He cant concentrate.

What was she thinking, that foolish, stupid, beautiful, outdated, brilliant... he stops, takes a breath —who was she to unceremoniously drop into his life from god knows where and expect them to start where they left off? Here she is many years older, perfect and successful and everything everyone has ever expected her to be, but then she comes along all smiles and earnestness and fuck—suddenly he's back where he started.

He's angry and agitated and frustrated because he's angry and agitated—it's irrational in theory, but Matthew has long learned that his life doesn't follow any book, any rule. Eventually however, he finishes his task and no more words had been exchanged between the two of them- the silence that follows after becomes overbearing, pressing down upon them. Matt knows that Amanda is thinking the same thing; neither of them want to open the floodgate, in fear of re-opening wounds and creating new ones. What had caused their fall-out? Where had those last few years disappeared to? How had they severed their connection without even knowing it?

Deciding that the process was much like ripping off a Band-aid, Matt slams his blade down onto the table and faces Amanda directly; it's hurting him to not have answers. It's hurting him that she no longer seems to care.

"You disappeared for years Amanda," he says, his voice low. "In fact, you and I stopped talking after I left for Florida. Here." He searches her face, so different from what he remembers, and yet so familiar. He wishes he could just have it all back. "I mean, we did talk to each other now and again I guess, which was nice because I got to hear from you again, and for a while I thought we were okay..." A lump is starting to form in his throat. He pushes it down forcefully. "But then we just stopped talking! No phone calls, no visits, nothing! I mean, granted, I was busy, and you were busy and, I know... I just- I thought." He waivers slightly. "I thought we had something real." Matt looks out the window, suddenly losing his nerve and averting his gaze, choosing to look at the clouds building in the distance through the window pane. "Don't you... don't you remember those nights we'd spend together of your roof? The papers you'd help me with? Science class? Together?"



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