#[ self promotion. ] you know; it's moments like these when i realize what a superhero i am.

[coreius]

Tag drop 1.

[physalian]

A Case Against “Redemption = Death”

“Redemption = Death” is, in my opinion, one of the laziest “telling not showing” cop-outs you can write, and it happens over and over and over again. It’s manipulative, it’s cheap, it kneecaps the character’s development, it undermines the meaning of a true redemption, and it promotes a message that some people are so evil, the *only* redemption for them is the ultimate sacrifice.

**Taking an aside here to plainly ignore religious connotations and focus on the success or failure of a satisfying character arc**

I hate this trope. I have never seen a flawless execution of this trope in its basest form: Evil bad guy is evil for 99% of their story, and in the 11th hour has an out-of-character realization that they’ve done wrong and sacrifices themself for the heroes, whom they don’t actually care about, for ~drama~.

Today’s writing advice is pretty straightforward: Please stop doing this. It tends to happen in action movies like the superhero genre, but also in action-heavy sci-fi and fantasy where rich character development is sacrificed for spectacle and cool battles. I love action movies, even the stupid ones, and I firmly believe that they can do better.

1. It’s manipulative

A malignant evildoer who shows zero remorse for their entire story, commits heinous acts of violence and abuse, who murders, steals, beats, cheats, betrays, and uses other characters does not earn any shed tears over their ultimate sacrifice.

Time and time again, the big bad will do a 180 and leave the protagonist distraught over how to react to this, often with lines like “maybe he was a hero all along,” or “you know he really wasn’t that bad”. (a la Snape before we all woke up and realized he's a whiny Nice Guy)

Nope. He was actually that bad, and his final act of terror was convincing you to give a damn about him and regret not being able to save him (and it is always male characters. It’s always men. Find me a story where it’s a woman and I will gladly read it and complain about her, too).

This character has only themselves to blame for their Tragic Backstory. They were never a tragic hero, they didn’t fall from grace. There was never any hope or expectation that they could do better, the hero isn’t even trying to redeem them, it just happens in an attempt to engineer depth where there isn’t any.

2. It’s cheap

A hastily-written “redemption” tips the author’s hand, showing that they didn’t plan for or can’t conceptualize how to fix the mess they’ve made. Now, maybe the villain dies in the last chapter of the book and the story has no room for the aftermath anyway—that’s fine. It’s only a problem when the villain gets an unfounded “he wasn’t so bad” reflection by the survivors to scribble a deeper meaning and message for the story in the final lap.

If you’re planning from the start to have your villain be “not that bad,” provide any evidence other than them deciding maybe they don’t want the world to burn as the clock on the nuke counts down to zero.

This would be like if Gandalf told Pippin Denethor was actually a decent guy as the man flings himself off Gondor's tallest tower after nearly burning his son alive.

3. It kneecaps the character’s potential

Character deaths, whether they’re permanent or not, are generally treated by the other characters as permanent and final in the moment. There’s tears, there’s funerals, there’s grief and regret over what could have been, what might’ve been, what should have been.

And all of that development goes straight to the surviving characters, not the one that died.

Your dead evildoer can’t prove they’re trying to do better once they’re dead. They can’t show their remorse, they can’t show how they planned to fix all their mistakes, they can’t follow through with choosing the path of “good”. They’re dead.

You killed them to avoid the hard work of having to write them as a good guy.

4. It undermines the meaning of a true redemption

Self-sacrifice is a noble end, but self-sacrifice because a character can’t imagine actually committing to the long and bumpy road of fixing all their mistakes is cowardice. The people they hurt are still suffering, the wrongs they committed still need answering for, the damage they’ve done still needs rectifying and dying leaves all that work to those who survive them.

They’ve done nothing to prove they’re worthy of redemption except to stop digging their hole deeper and at that point they’re not “redeemed” they’re only marginally defined as a “tragic hero” by the skin of their teeth, depending on what catastrophe they prevent with their death.

5. It argues that some people aren’t worth redeeming

Ironically, “redemption = death” proves the exact opposite of the case you’re trying to make. They die because they’re convinced they must, because not a single other character could either talk them out of it, or cared enough to show them death wasn’t the only option.

“Redemption” is only for those who everyone thinks aren’t worth redeeming. But he’s irredeemable! Is he? Or do you just want to see him punished and have zero faith that he can’t at least try to right his wrongs?

This would be like if Zuko showed up at the Western Air Temple and instead of becoming Aang's fire bending teacher, he died fighting Combustion Man or Azula in a blaze of glory, all because Katara would not budge from her "he's evil and always will be" stance.

Or, if Zuko died in the last agni-kai, taking Azula down with him, as if the story said "yeahhhhh, we just gotta go clean slate here and expunge the whole Fire Family, but hey, Zuko did stop Azula in his blaze of glory".

—

But what happens when “redemption = death” is actually satisfying? Aka, not a redeemed villain, just a tragic hero. So let’s look at a famous example: Darth Vader.

This is a character that checks two boxes: He has one pillar of light determined to save him, and he’s shown before his moment of sacrifice to have some remorse. It doesn’t come out of nowhere.

He’s not redeemed, though, because his one act of murder-suicide may end the war (ignoring the sequel trilogy) but doesn’t undo all the damage and lives lost and planets destroyed. He’s just a tragic hero.

Sometimes, however, this character knows the only way all the evil ends is with their death. They know they’re doomed because by their continued existence, evil persists, and they literally cannot live on to fix things because things will never be fixable so long as they’re still breathing. Or, they’re terminally ill and incurable through their own machinations with the Big Bad and will die no matter what they do, might as well go out swinging.

Greed, from Fullmetal Alchemist fits here. He spent more time as a reluctant good guy occasionally doing bad and selfish things because his essence is chained to a good guy, but he cannot survive the story, because by his very nature, he’s a piece of the main villain.

But even then, Greed’s redemption comes *before* he dies, we all already love his character, this is just the tragic icing on the cake. His realization that, in his final act, he becomes the most selfless character in the show—the antithesis of his entire being.

Your mid-redemption character redeems themselves as much as they can while they still breathe. They help the other heroes, they teach the team everything they know, they show their plans for a better future and have even built tools to help the survivors thrive. They’ve dreamed about being a part of this future that’s barred from them. They’ve fully understood and accepted the consequences of their actions. They understand that their final punishment is never living to see the paradise they nearly destroyed.

Even if they can’t change the world with their actions, they’ve done all the emotional and personal labor they can manage with those that they’ve hurt. They’ve made friends, allies, even romantic endeavors.

And when they die and the heroes mourn, they mourn the hero that this redeemed villain became, not who they imagined this villain could be if they tried, if they'd made different choices. At that point, redemption didn’t even equal death for them, redemption was the short road to recovery before the consequences of their actions finally caught up with them.

[writersrealmbts]

Con Amore: Part 13

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 04/03/2020

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 2,470 words

A/N: One month until my birthday! I’m trying to finish this series. any guesses on the gender of the baby?

Previous Part.

That was as far as you’d gotten, the words seizing in your mouth as you tried to think of how to explain it all and Namjoon’s power wore off.

You were sitting partially against the wall and partially in Hoseok’s lap, trying to think of how to explain it all to them.

They were all gathered around you with pillows and blankets, cozy next to the fireplace you hummed into existence.

Hoseok was braiding lavender into your hair, and Jimin was singing softly as all of you relaxed from the stress of the ‘mission’.

Taehyung was sprawled across the floor and Yoongi, muttering about missing Yeontan.

Jungkook was curled in Seokjin’s lap, wrapped in his arms.

Namjoon was sitting against the wall beside you and Hoseok, waiting for you to be ready to talk.

“I went to the conservatory after my parents…well, after my mother was killed. I needed a distraction, a way to move forward. The conservatory offered training in hand-to-hand and other skills that I saw as useful. I’d only ever been trained in artifact retrieval and care, and self-defense. I thought learning something would help distract me. Everything was fine until about a week after I’d arrived. Every time I tried to just…go outside, to even just go to the gardens, I couldn’t. I asked the dean if I could and he said no. He wouldn’t give me a reason why, and he made it clear I wasn’t allowed to ask anymore.”

“So you went searching,” Yoongi said, smirking.

You nodded, looking to Jin. “You can imagine the secrets I found.”

“The testing,” He whispered, his grip on Jungkook getting taut and causing the younger to glance up at him in worry.

“Among other things. They were testing ways of stealing the students powers, brainwashing, hypnosis…bionic replacements.”

Taehyung sat up, looking worried. “Like Heuning’s wings?”

You nodded. “The man who did that was driven out when they realized it was hurting them, but he wasn’t stopped for quite some time after.” You fidgeted with Hoseok’s hand.

His other hand rested on your stomach, warm and comforting.

“But that didn’t stop the other testing. Or the abuse of the students. Manipulation and hypnosis, brainwashing them into their little soldiers. Maybe if I hadn’t been hiding who I was, I might not have had the backbone to resist their testing, but I was stronger than they knew. The students were prisoners. Test subjects. And they still are.” You let your gaze drop to the floor, thinking about the things you had to listen to, avoid, and endure. “If I hadn’t been able to sneak away to even just my little living-space pocket, I might have gone insane. I would also have been in trouble if I hadn’t been able to keep up with my hair dye. I was using a constant melody to keep my visage hazy, but a change in hair color would have been too noticeable. But getting away was difficult. I actually had to go to restricted areas just to find enough privacy.”

“You two weren’t there at the same time?” Yoongi asked, looking between yourself and Jin, holding hands with Taehyung.

Jin waffled a bit. “There was a little bit of overlap. About three months, actually, but we were always in different places. Or if we were in the same place, neither of us took notice of it. I was trying to escape already, after having exposed the man that did the bionic replacements. He called himself Daedalus. His test subjects had their memories wiped, and most were kept at the school, giving them new identities. After that the youngest kids disappeared before I could rescue them. I’m assuming that was you?” He rested his cheek on Jungkook’s head.

You nodded. “Yeah. After they were brainwashed. I had their files from the lab and I put them in a time-frozen room until I escaped. I met Nadya on my way out. They had been trying to find a way in to investigate. She knew that I was an Archivist, she’d been told she would meet one and that I was the answer. But when we returned to the temple and got the kids settled in with their former identities to help them recover, the time super also told us that the time for her to return to the Conservatory had yet to come.”

“I don’t understand,” Hoseok murmured.

You took a deep breath. “The conservatory fights, but they don’t value the lives of those they send to fight. They’re like toy soldiers. Fighting for whatever cause the conservatory’s dean determines worthy of their attention. Sometimes that means whoever is the highest bidder.”

“Or the fight against super-powered people,” Jin added quietly.

It hung heavily in the air.

“And you and Nadya want to put an end to it,” Yoongi said, nodding slowly. “Make it into a real school for heroes, a safe place for them instead of a nest of evil. But what about your connection to the current dean?”

The boys looked to Jin when you hemmed and hawed a bit, struggling to find a way to explain it.

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t remember her at all.”

“Ryoko…she’s…” You sighed. “She was a student. One of the ones that was in charge of keeping me in line after they realized I was an escape artist.”

“And?” Namjoon asked, one of his hands encasing yours.

You stared at the floor. “She found out about me. And I had to use a memory spell on her. But when I did it…I had a lot of ideas. So I gave her an artifact that puts her in the good favor of those above her, one that earns you promotions…but that also let me know what happened at the conservatory.”

“W-what?” Jungkook’s eyes were huge.

Jimin’s mouth was open.

“You…used an artifact on her?” Jin asked, sounding like he couldn’t believe it. “What if someone had taken it from her?”

You shook your head. “It was a rare one, one that can only be used once.”

“So when Nadya asked if ‘She’ remembered you, she was talking about the dean?” Yoongi asked, frowning.

You nodded.

“What happens if she remembers you?” Jimin asked in a small voice.

You shook your head. “Nothing good. She’s always been power-hungry, that’s why she was the perfect choice to become the next dean and be my unwitting spy.”

“I still don’t understand,” Taehyung said. “I mean, I’m getting the feeling that there’s still brainwashing and experimentation being done…but I feel like there’s something else you haven’t told us.”

You met Jin’s gaze and could see he knew what you were going to say.

“None of you have asked about what happens to the students who don’t end up working for the Conservatory,” You said quietly. “Or why none of the students appear to be over the age of eighteen.”

The atmosphere of the room plummeted.

“Oh,” Hoseok breathed, hold on you just a little tighter.

Taehyung looked scared. “What happens to them?”

Jin cleared his throat, taking over. “If they reach the age of 18—”

“If?” Jimin asked, sounding distressed.

“They’re still used as soldiers, Jimin,” You told him, then gestured for Jin to continue.

“If they reach the age of 18, they’re given a choice: stay and work for the conservatory, or go out into the world. If they choose to go out into the world…they’re stripped of their powers, their identity…they become zombie-like. Eventually they can recover a little, but they will never notice supers or anything having to do with powers. They usually die from having their powers stripped from them, though. Or become addicts. I’ve heard of very few leading real lives.” Jin was holding onto Jungkook, like the kid might disappear at any moment. “The only reason I escaped was because I was a teacher, and I managed to leave during the turnover of staff. I wanted…I wanted to help them, but I didn’t know how. The conservatory is strong.”

“But you and Nadya think that this is the chance to change everything, to get the upper hand on the conservatory,” Yoongi said, putting it all together.

“Except I can’t be there.”

“What if we made sure the fight was drawn out, until after you’ve had the baby?” Namjoon asked, slowly and carefully.

You shuddered. “How many might die because of that?”

“Why do you need to be there?” Jungkook asked, frowning.

You looked around at all of them. “Because I can reverse the brainwashing. I’ve had the song for that school figured out for years.”

“Our first time back there you threatened to destroy the school,” Jin said softly.

“Yes. But more than anything else, I threatened to bring Ryoko harm, because it wasn’t the artifact that corrupted her. All of us lost count of how many young supers she has gotten killed.” You shuddered. “And Soobin is actually a former student.”

“What?” Taehyung yelped.

“He caught me as I was escaping and I brought him with me, took him to the home. That’s why he wanted to be closer to us instead of the people from the home. That’s why I didn’t want the boys staying there.”

“What are his powers?” Namjoon asked, frowning.

“Sonic senses, transmutation and peace inducement,” You answered, shifting and resting more on Hoseok. You felt insecure. You wanted them to assure you that they loved you, even if you did break your own rules. Your sacred rules of archives.

Hoseok’s hold tightened slightly, both hands on your stomach. “That is a dangerous power.”

“Which one?” Jungkook asked, frowning.

“Peace inducement,” Seokjin answered. “Under the control of any sort of villain or person with ill-intentions, he could induce everyone to peacefully accept a tyrant to reign over the country.”

Taehyung shuddered and pressed closer to Yoongi

“And the other boys? What are their powers?” Jimin asked, coming over to essentially sit on Namjoon so he could be close to you.

You chewed on your cheek for a moment. “Well, Beomgyu, you know has healing. Soobin told me he would keep the others safe if we made the wrong call about sending him with them. But I think it was the right choice. Heuning Kai has light, photokinesis, and the wings, but he also has air manipulation. Taehyun…I’m still not entirely certain about his powers, but I think…it’s largely psychometry, maybe enhanced memory reliving. Either way, it’s an extremely potent weapon. Especially since he also wears the badge of the high priest, meaning he trains directly with the high priest of time—not with one of the bishops or normal priests like other acolytes. That means he probable has prophetic visions or dreams.”

It was quiet after that.

Finally Seokjin forced in a breath, then forced it out. “And the last?”

“Yeonjun, he had the green robes of a nature acolyte, and his appearance…it’s definitely evidence of it….” You tried to remember what powers you’d sensed from him, working to pinpoint the exact name for them. “He was powerful too. Very powerful, but I was so overwhelmed by Taehyun’s power that I…I couldn’t really focus on his. But he was aware of Jimin, and there was some sort of…nature to him.”

“That would explain the horns,” Jimin whispered. “And the way…I didn’t really say anything but I felt like he was connected to me the moment we reached the archives and were away from the noise.”

You nodded. “I think…don’t quote me because I’m guessing here, but I think he has Ecological empathy…and maybe…something strong that has to do with the elements.” You tangled your fingers with Hoseok’s and vines quickly bound the two of you together by the wrists.

Jimin placed his hand over both of yours, smiling slightly when the vines wrapped around him too. “And are they okay right now?”

You nodded. “They’re fine. I have a song placed on Soobin, he knows how to let me know if something is wrong. I checked in this morning too, through the note-dropping system. He said they’re fine. Yeonjun is completely healed now, and they’re getting along, and apparently Huening Kai is very excitable and screams when he’s excited.”

“I wondered if he was okay, he seemed so uncomfortable and stiff,” Hoseok murmured.

“He’s young and had to go through a lot.” You let your eyes close.

You could hear them all moving closer, joining the pile.

Someone pressed a kiss your temple.

“You did so well today, baby,” Namjoon whispered. “I know it wasn’t easy telling us about what’s been going on, for you or for Seokjin-hyung. I know you probably downplayed a lot—”

“Probably?” Yoongi objected.

“Everything,” Seokjin said at the same time, sounding so heartbroken that it silenced the room again.

You opened your eyes to check on him.

Taehyung pressed a kiss to his lips. “I wish I could say I was sorry you went through that hyung.”

“Tae—” JImin hissed.

“But I’m not. I’m not sorry that you went through it because it’s what brought us together. It’s what brought you to me. You knew how to save me because of your time there, you knew how to help all of us become better people because of your time there. I’m only sorry that this place still haunts you, and that we didn’t realize how much trouble it was before now. You saved me, hyung. I know that might not be enough to you, but it means the world to me.” Taehyung pressed his face into the crook of Jin’s neck as he hugged him from behind.

Jin leaned back into the embrace, one arm still firmly planted around Jungkook, but his free hand going back to rest on Tae’s leg.

“He’s right. Your knowledge is what kept us from getting our butts kicked, now it’s you and y/n keeping us from getting our butts kicked and frankly…I think it’s because you both attended this school. So, we’re going to take it down. We’re going to find a way. Maybe not during this threat, but we’ll find a way,” Namjoon said, voice firm. “After. After our baby is born, and y/n has recovered. Until then, we build up our arsenal of allies. Or, if this fight takes longer than we think, maybe you come back in time for us to take down the school at the same time. Okay?”

There were murmurs of consent from everyone, including you.

Then all of you were just laying there, cuddling.

Because you would have to leave them once the conversation truly ended, and none of you were ready for that.

~~~~

Part 12.   Part 14.

Masterlist.  ~  Series Masterpost.  

Tagging: @ephemeral-mindset​, @alex–awesome–22​, @bryvada​, @missmoxxiesworld​, @knjhe, @i-dont-even-know-fck​

[blankdblank]

Help Me Rich

@deepestfirefun​ here you go, pt 1. :D

“Now, I wanted to thank you all for your messages-,” over the shoulder of the bulky Brit a green nail tipped hand came into view from the teetering petite toe top woman on one leg making the second Brit returning from an early morning shopping trip grin. Bag in hand Tom Hiddleston eyed the woman subtly gathering up her mail and locking the box silently behind Henry Cavill’s unknowing back to step away with a rub on the dog’s head at his side. Into the lift he went with the woman also holding an armful of bags and a small goat plushie handmade to look like Loki beside a polar bear Superman, badger Ronan with bunny Deadpool, Venom and Spiderman set she tried to nudge under the flannel sticking out of the bag they were balanced on.

The lingering gaze over the woman he couldn’t quite place had Tom saying, “I haven’t seen you around.” A ring from his pocket had his eyes lowering to his phone he wrangled out keeping the bags in his arms.

The doors opened and in his furrowed gaze at the screen he heard her tease back, “I didn’t realize you were blind.” Yet looking up the woman was gone leaving him puzzled at her answer.

In a huff he answered his call on speaker to allow him to enter his apartment listening to the bustle of his own manager while he put everything away loading up his latest binge show. A bit late to the game he had leapt on the Berlin Station train and had just came to the premier episode of the second season. Though with his meal in hand he settled into his seat at his table with schedule ironed out to finally relax before his next episode only to have his jaw drop seeing the same woman from the lift coming up on screen. And not only just there but popping up in his mind from scenes in the Night Manager, High Rise and Crimson Peak.

In flashes the, then blonde and brass now raven haired woman with curls galore in a messy bun flashing telling purple eyes he could remember from countless roles in the past few years always leaving him wondering when she was able to sleep. Clearly crossing his path more than a few times a year now for however long having lived on the same floor as him.

Travel didn’t seem to lull for her and curiously between postings of another tale of a shared now favored fanfic page Henry had showed him upon seeing he had moved in with stories on Loki and Superman as neighbors befriending a quirky oc he skimmed back through his posted videos catching more and more glimpses of his petite shadow. Into Henry’s videos the same shadow popped up more and more leading to his delving into the filmography of his friend now alerted to the woman who he had filmed with as well somehow having slipped out of his attention for so long.

.

“Found another one.” Tom fired off to Henry in a text after a week of hearing how his return to his social pages had drawn attentions to a woman familiar in both his videos and Henry’s.

It seemed no matter what they did since both moving into this building they kept acting as magnets for the same woman unintentionally catching her in her daily path. Off guard and trying to slip out of the shot to avoid bothering the busy self promoting actors she would slip out once her task was done. Though when they were filming her stealth seemed to pass their notice leaving them oblivious until the comments would ask who the woman was.

The most intimate was when Tom and Henry both had caught one another back from a run to find the slightly delirious woman listening to music to stay awake waiting for the lift. Swaying and singing along to the song the already filming men joined her and had their most popular video yet building up the question even more, just who she was in general and to them. Their grins lingered and in the moment after they saw her sway her way out of the lift they finished off the video that they had begun. The main goal that they had been distracted from was to answer a question posted by a fanfic page that they had both stumbled onto by chance, what sort of smoothie would Loki and Superman have after a workout. Tales of a woman living with both Loki and Superman in the same building; comics and short stories always with the oc being caught up as a spectator for the duo of super beings with a hint that there was a chance it wasn’t one sided interest on the oc’s part.

“I don’t get it,” Henry said laying out all the supplies he had for a snack to go with the smoothies when they had stopped filming, “How does she just pop in and out like that?”

Tom chuckled saying, “Might be from her size.” Henry glanced at him, “You haven’t noticed? Must be a dancer or something to move like that and she’s got to be nearly half your size, two thirds mine.” Smirking at his grinning friend, “I can admit you’re broader.” After a quick sip he said, “But I have you on speed.”

Henry chuckled, “I am not built for speed.” He said moving around Kal while he drank from his water fountain, “I leave that to Kal.”

“That’s just no fair, he’s got two extra legs.” Tom teased. “So, any hints yet where your Lois lives?”

Henry chuckled, “She lives on your floor, Buddy, be just odd if I was caught snooping around.”

Tom grinned, “Easy, just let Kal off on the floor, knock around for him.”

Henry nodded with his brows raised, “So, just, let my dog loose and then knock on doors asking what exactly? Hello, I believe my thumbless companion got off on this floor by mistake, you wouldn’t happen to be holding him captive, would you?” Tom was laughing by the time he had finished talking and he said, “Truly brilliant. No wonder I’m single with a wingman like you.”

Tom, “Hey, Kal is the best wingman, you find that door, just knock and have him there with a note and a rose inviting her to dinner.”

Henry smirked again, “Again, could kidnap Kal.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Fine then, resort to a teddy bear and don’t use your best advantage.”

Henry chuckled, “Out of all of me, and my dog is my best advantage, thanks.”

Tom chuckled, “She can surf the internet, no doubt she’s seen nearly all of you. Got to add something extra. Something domestic.”

Henry nodded teasing back, “Domestic.”

Tom, “Don’t doubt it, you have a healthy happy lovable dog, as good as a man with a baby. You can keep him alive, great sign for being able to-,”

Henry chuckled, “No, come on, finish the thought, what, I can leave a plate of food out for her? Open a bag or can and just leave it lying around for if she possibly gets hungry, take her for walks.”

Tom smirked, “You know what I mean. Our lives are public, she has to see what no one else gets to. Find the spark that draws her eye.”

Henry nodded, “Sure, I’ll keep my eye peeled for a spark.”

.

He didn’t mean to be such a cynic sometimes but for all the pent up irritation for yet another bout of filming for Superman coming up he was shedding water weight and it was turning him into a giant toddler it seemed. He wanted nothing more than to throw his alarm clock every morning and just pull his covers up and never leave home again just quitting the superhero business altogether. Waxing this morning didn’t help matters either, pink and irritated his skin felt terrible and sweating only made it worse so as soon as his friend left to go to his own apartment downstairs he spent a good five minutes just letting the hot water wash over him mentally cursing everyone forcing him through this hell. ‘For the fans’ that was the excuse, always given to the actors hating being torn apart and shoved to the brink of blacking out just to get that impossible ripped look men strove to be but never knew what it took to achieve themselves.

Hours later post early night in five am came and groaning and cursing into his pillow in a shove off his belly he scowled his way off his knees to his feet to storm his way into his gym clothes and sneakers. A slammed hand onto his bag later and he choked the hold of the fabric in his fingers with knuckles turning white for a tantrum adjacent trip to the gym nearby. Into the locker his bag was nearly thrown and right through the sea of bulky men he found his usual place catching more than a few familiar faces in the same mood he was in. He had to wait to blow off some steam first before filming or he would be reduced to cussing out everyone watching in a surely career killing clip he couldn’t dare send out right now after having promised his mother not to do that after her last time talking him down from the rage she had unknowingly called him in the middle of.

Across the room however the same baggy cut off t donning woman with Capri sweats that shifted around her toned legs unlike the legging clad women on the second floor hoping to impress by leaving as little to the imagination as possible was spotted. Alternating arms with bulky weights in each hand flowing through the same set routine as always while the massive men by comparison took full claim over what they wanted when they wanted forcing her to the left overs. A stray strand of black curls dangling from the messy bun on top of her head tapped between her shoulder blades with each arm lowering from a lift to the confirming tap finishing the move holding his focus from the burn on his arms in the swinging arms of the machine he brought together. Each tap of the weights rising and falling came with his silent wish for her to turn around to just give him a guess at what color her eyes were.

A break in his sets however had her passing the weights over to a smaller meathead forcing her off her spot to the sit up foundation he was coming off of. In her wiping it down he lifted his water bottle and froze when it reached his lips trying to calculate how much he could drink to spread it out to keep up ‘the look.’ Only to pause seeing her finger outstretch to tilt the water bottle higher on the largest meathead in the lower floor, one of the first people he met when coming here who froze then melted into acceptance hearing her say, “We love you, be sexy tomorrow.” Taking a much larger swig and pausing to steady from his moment of glassy eyed gaze that had triggered her sentiment he nodded and cut it down for the rest of his workout.

Even as a stranger she had caught on that he wasn’t at his best and pretending the order was for him Henry took a big swig and decided to cut back himself, spoiling himself and assuring that he would be there tomorrow to in fact be sexy for the cameras even if he couldn’t slice something with his abs. The message un-verbally rippled through the gym in a sort of group revolt against whatever was bringing them all here to tear themselves apart. And while she clung to the heavy weighted plate to her chest she dipped and rose again gritting her teeth and trying not to make any sort of pained noise until she met her goal and sat breathing steadily with the weight resting on her surely while the burn in her abs and legs calmed down.

Two machines later while she was going from planks to handstand push ups on a mat to the side from the packed machines the man who received the reminder of love and self care came over to help Henry film his video who smirked seeing her dip to plank again making the two men behind her freeze once again. Though without her feet touching down she held the pose only to rise up again and then fold in half to ‘tap’ her toes to the ground she couldn’t quite reach in that position then raise her legs up again. Occupied machines be damned she was getting her body to burn as much as necessary in spite of the big men refusing to let her through asserting their dominance for ‘their territory’ the lower level still held for them.

Showering in the gym would be a must with how drenched his shirt was and by the time he had gotten out he’d assumed she would be long gone after feeling like his body was trying to be a sponge and soak up all the water it could through his skin even after his splurge moment. All the same strolling back home again in a sweater and jeans his eyes lingered on the same woman leading the way back in a near backless t shirt with wing cutouts over her jean shorts. Near to a toe top swaying sort of walk reminding him of a sneaking kitten always luring him closer she halted and his eyes shifted around knowing that move, a turn to blend in behind something with her bag around the corner of the building she was hidden by the pillar surrounding the entrance. Widening his steps he got to her side when he saw why she had hid, the pair of laughing clearly drunk men taking several minutes to cross the abandoned street corner spilling their open bottles tucked in bags failing to be subtle.

A cheer as he turned to block her from sight and the noise darting his gaze from her step out agreeing to use his shadow in the lamplight to hide from the duo, “Woo! Superman!”

The other man stepped closer saying, “Shhh! He’s not wearing the cape! No worries Mr Kent!” turning around in a circle he shouted, “We all know Superman’s out in Batman’s Court thingy!” Swatting his hand at his buddy’s arm only to nearly fall over.

Rolling his eyes Henry called back, “Mind the roads guys.” Holding his natural accent back in his first few steps continuing homewards after confirming she was keeping up with him. A whoop of a siren cut off any chance of the men noticing her sending groans echoing through the streets when the officer that was called on the disturbance arrived.

Into the building they strolled far more relaxed in a side by side stance in the new peace of the time alone and into the lift steps and a joint turn were taken. The same buttons were pressed wordlessly by Henry who narrowed his eyes watching the floor number change mentally screaming to just say anything. A poke at his middle once at her floor however dropped his gaze to her and the pinch of his sweater in the doors opening split a curious smirk across his face. Honey dripped and sending an ache to hear more of it her voice sounded in asking, “Where’d you get this?”

“I, didn’t. Mum sent it.”

He could have slapped himself in her step out into the hall and just when he was ready to shout something she added, “Stay comfy, Sugar Plum.”

That was it, millions of men and women once calling him baby faced now calling him Daddy expecting to win his affections or attention and in sloppy steps, if in cartoon form his body would be melting into a puddle of goo evaporating into hearts. He had to somehow learn to talk to you, he had to break the ice and gain your comfort in more than sharing an elevator, gym or be used as your hiding spot. No one, not one of his exes had called him something as spine tingling as Sugar Plum and he doubted they would have wanted to. Teddy Bear sure, even a Pookie thrown in the mix when they were pouting to be pampered, but nothing so new or unique and as embarrassing as it should be the man portraying the Man of Steel wished to be nothing more than your Sugar Plum.

He loved hugs, he was borderline clingy, always hoping to drape around the person of his desires. To spoon and in his past be rarely spooned in return, tiny and somehow formidable in her own right he had hoped she would allow him to be passive, at least from time to time, that some sort of androgyny could be mixed in the relationship he was picturing. The cute angry moments when she couldn’t reach things he could help her reach in various ways. The coveted moments where she would drown in shirts borrowed from his closet, mornings to wake with a breakfast made by one of them and arguments ending in laundry thrown about to cut loose and have fun instead of getting lost in tiny irritations.

An hour had passed before he realized it and a telling ring tone had him answering and lovingly sighing out from his place sprawled across his bed, “She called me Sugar Plum and touched my shirt.”

Instantly that had Tom set off into question mode snapping the lovable goofball out of his heart balloon daze when he was snapped back to the telling fact that he said nothing in return and had missed another chance luring groans from his plotting friend out of town for work again. The call eventually ended and Henry posted the video he had captured only to finally watch it to see the woman his comments kept talking about behind him making him melt back onto his bed again remembering your nickname.

 *

“I have to do everything myself.” Tom muttered strolling through the diner he had stopped in after an interview for a magazine shoot only to pause seeing the same woman again seated alone making him smirk and cross straight for the booth he sat in lifting her gaze from the menu in her hands. “What are we having?”

Without missing a beat she said, “We’re having a cheat day.”

“We are?”

She nodded, “You sat down, welcome to the boat. Take the consequences in stride there Mr H.”

With a smirk from him that was it. The beginning of a friendship that felt stretched thin just as it had begun, as in their parting she said she was off to film for four months leaving their friendship online and through messages. Somehow he’d managed her email, a fact leaving Henry halfway between staring and glaring at him for a while after he had mentioned it knowing he was off for his own bout of filming in the morning allowing Tom some space to recover their friendship by cushioning the groundwork and talking up his friend.

No thank you’s were required, ever, the walk with Henry wasn’t the first time and Tom had acted similarly catching a gawker in the super market he stepped into protective mode. Insisting she was safe. Never possessive but protective, not a claim of marking her as theirs but demanding that the man respected the lady in question, both raised well by their mothers to defend women and never disrespect them, even with their differing of one having two sisters, and the other brothers. Between the both of them it was clear you were to be protected, and still fluffing his feathers out after a bad relationship he settled to helping his friend to land the woman he hoped to be falling just as hard as his friend seemed to be. A conundrum wrapped in a mystery on legs the pair couldn’t quite work out leading to some aims to dig for any press to see if they could work out a bigger picture and find a good angle to go past Tom’s suggestion to use Kal.

 *

“Hey Richie Rich.”

Lowly a chuckle sounded through the line, “Ugh,” you could hear your friend smoothing a hand over his face, “So knackered. Three back to back flights between interviews. Really the wrong side out.”

“No hugs from your snuggle buddy yet?” His sheepish chuckle had your own grin splitting out through your own exhaustion, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your subtle hints you’ve been cuddling up to somebody. They treating you well?”

After a reluctant pause he answered, “They are, yes.”

“Good, if not I’m going for their knees.” He chuckled again and your mind flashed back to the exasperated call you had gotten after a few too many glasses of wine when he had first hinted at a possible relationship. True he didn’t remember the tipsy request for advice from the awkward demi who had worse luck in love than he had easing the task of skating past the touchy subject the withdrawn man reluctant to share his most tender side of himself. Something he had caught hints he had shown glimpses and began to see that you would be there to catch him if he would jump into this bond fully.

From work to his private life he had folded back that curtain and even in the longest stretches where he would fall silent and unintentionally ghost people in delving into his characters. Since first meeting as Daniel Miller and Bell, her reluctantly used CIA agent far from tamable or conquerable, he would receive her small messages. Single orders out of nowhere to have a cup of tea or the most puzzling at three in the morning while filming in the middle of nowhere to eat a carrot he knew his distant friend was waiting and still caring for him. Always there and willing to listen to his hours of ranting when he was stuck with an avalanche on information illegible to his character he had studied all folding into place with a single unorthodox question on a quirk his character might have. One slipped smiley face on a folded slip of paper on set your first day and his smile was now at home when he was in contact with or near you.

“I saw your latest pop up online. They have a whole Instagram account dedicated to their shadows you know.”

“Ugh,” he chuckled and you replied, “it’s not my fault they keep filming in public spaces.”

“No it’s not. But it is not ok you haven’t gotten their number yet.”

“And just whose number am I supposed to be getting exactly there Casanova?”

“Either one seems a catch. I hear they both are wonderful. Marten and Benedict are close to Tom, I’ve only heard about Henry in passing,”

“I am not going to assume-,”

“You are phenomenal and they are blind if they haven’t caught on yet. Besides, Tom’s been catching up on Berlin Station, no doubt Bell will catch his eye.”

“I’m in fishnets and a corset my first scene, that’s not usually an eye seeking missile,” again he laughed and shifted in his seat at your sarcastic comment, “Besides, you know how much I hate it all being so physical. I know they’re attractive, I have eyes, just the typical actress hoping to be more than just to be somebody’s piece of ass.”

“I get it, trust me,” true you were nearly half his age but this one thing you bonded in. Drop dead gorgeous even without the pound of makeup and burlesque costume from your first meeting that faded away in the first awful joke you had whispered to him between sets to break his set in scowl for the lighter scene coming up and he could see the dazzler within. Awkward duckling in swans clothing with absolutely verbatim knowledge on how marketable her facade was with only a wish to curl up at home on the funds you had earned in flawless take after take with jokes between. Not shy but comfortable in yourself only timid around others who never seemed to wish to look deeper driving you to older companions a generation ahead or even publicly out actors who wouldn’t dare to ever imply they were wishing to cross that line.

A few well placed publicity dates here and there at first and the act had tired you out of the process altogether and now added to the stealthy ladies of the limelight unwilling to share their dating lives, as of you had one. You were evenly matched with decades in between, now nearing his silver fox years happily Richard had taken the first leap to stop tearing himself apart for roles to meet the standards for the required shirtless scenes now less frequent in his acceptable dad bod years. It wasn’t hard to understand and commiserate in the shared effect on your daily lives to force workouts, facials, skin regimens and the like to keep up your profession and roles. “Have you at least talked to Tom lately?”

“His mum sent me a package.”

“Ooh, nice how did that happen?”

“Well, ran into Tom in the lift last week and he mentioned he would be off filming but he said something about an early birthday gift was being sent to him and he wouldn’t be able to get back in time. He spaced on the dates not realizing he wouldn’t be here and I guess my comment before when I got his last script in my box by mistake and left some spare biscuits I bought with them and said I’m next door if he needs anything.”

“Ah, so when she sent you a package-,”

“He got a package at my place, which if it happens again I’m counting it as permission to say we’ve at least dated to even the intimacy.” Making him chuckle again, “No doubt he would understand that logic.”

Another knock had you walking to your door and listening in he heard you sign for the package then close the door saying, “Robert Downey jr has my address.”

To which he replied, “Oh that is datable offense right there, friends and family too.”

“Speaking of dates,” you said plopping back onto your couch leaving the box by the other on the end of your coffee table settling your notepad turned planner for your travel plans for the upcoming convention you were appearing at for two different series and a sci-fi trilogy you were the lead in. “Heard about a certain uncle.” Again making him chuckle bashfully, “I am so proud of you. Loved Crucible and this will be just as spectacular.”

“Thank you, and I can’t wait to see the third installment of the, what the hell is it called again? The porcupine raptor thing?”

“Goruntrafnacerptornius.” You said with a giggle. Used to being asked how to say it as the only actor in the film to have mastered the name in the whole franchise leaving the others abbreviating the bastardized cloned dinosaur chimeras the size of toasters. Main creatures in a new Jurassic Park twist with the tiny creatures enlisting the aid of a dishonored and framed alien warrior(you) and her mixed group of fellow banished prisoners to help build a bridge to an unclaimed island for them to rule apart from their former Master. Enemies to family of misfits and unlikely bond tropes exploding into this nonsensical idea of a show seemed to be crack on film people flocked to in droves. “If you weren’t working I’d invite you to the premier. Looks like I’ll have to settle for sending you a copy when it’s out maybe to add to your pile to watch.”

“I always watch yours first, you know that.” Another notification that the latest video you had popped up in sounded on your phone as Richard’s doorbell rang, “Ah, Love, that’s my breakfast.”

“Say no more, I have to get ready anyways myself. Get there and back in time for Henry to wake me up again at five. Love you.”

“Love you, call you tomorrow.”

In the click the phone app dissolved and left the social page open showing the groggy barely conscious video of you fresh off your last flight home before Tom had left with Henry and Tom dancing along to the song you were listening to and belting out over mouthing along as you had imagined racking up notices on. The blurry shots of their faces and yours left people dismissing it as a fake if not posted by Henry himself on his way to the gym later that night, the same place his previous video had been filmed. Another edited clip of his various workouts with ample comments on you the mystery woman in the back of the shot doing far more impressive body weight exercises as the larger men hogged the machines and hand weights ending. Complete with a post shower poke to his sweater you then pinched stirring a curious smirk from him at your asking where he got it.

.

Filming was hard but in the middle of a groggy exchange with Tom you had fallen asleep sending off an answer to his question of, ‘Have you seen the new Superman costume? What do you think of it?’ Trying to see if anyone he knew came up with the same answer as the comic you had posted hours prior stating that he was trying to be more like Batman and could slip into shadows easier with darker shades than the Reeves version of the costume. Complete with images of different tries to hide only to have various colored parts of the costume point him out from the old one almost like a glow stick in the shadows to the new one with just a voice bubble saying, ‘Perfect.’

‘Looks like he wants it taken off.’ Tom couldn’t help but laugh first at the message then Henry’s deep inhale and excuse to refill his drink to hide his blush. Replies went unanswered leaving Tom grinning and stating you must have fallen asleep after being unable to only to be woken a few hours with a flurry of answers with an apology.

Finally a lapse in filming would bring you back to their path, right after a press stop of your own, all able to meet up for a dinner after the first night of the convention you were all set to attend. It was getting colder every day and finally Henry through Tom had answered the question of where the sweater was from. The real question being how would you handle the press, because it was out now, who was in the videos with the men and questions were swirling around. You could ignore them living on the tiny island to film the latest bit for the long running crime show you had filmed another three episode arc on for the next season coming up after the skyrocketing effect your last pop in had given the show that was near leveling off in interesting plot lines. They needed a villain and boy did you supply one.

A bad storm however had kept you from one fan meet that was canceled and for an hour you offered answers for the people who had sent questions to your account asking for when it might be rescheduled so they could talk to you. Needless to say wine had been opened and perhaps a swig too many and you felt yourself warming up and dozing off stating that you would only answer a couple more questions. The final ones you had read was ‘The holidays are coming up, any special plans for Christmas, New Years and Valentines?’

The one after being, ‘WHAT?!!!!’ Pertaining to your stunning answer before passing out, ‘Next to Tom Hiddleston and under Henry Cavill, same as most nights between jobs.’

Pt 2

[tessatechaitea]

Cerebus #11 (1979)

The only weapon you need to provoke a police officer to violence is scorn.

Sorry! The above caption had nothing to do with The Cockroach's first appearance in Cerebus and everything to do with how the Omaha Police arrested peaceful protesters by claiming that they're purpose was to "attack and/or provoke police officers to violence." Also, you can tell they're already spinning and lying by adding the "and/or" so they can imply that the protesters are planning on attacking police. And, well, even if they weren't (and they did say "or"!), their other main plan was to provoke them. But of course everybody whose ability to perceive reality isn't clouded by their incessant need to defend police no matter what understands that police will abuse their power at the drop of an eye roll. They believe any slight disrespect is an excuse for a violent rebuttal. They force physical violence on people whom they have no reason to arrest simply so the person can struggle against the assault, as any normal person would do, and then claim resisting. Police should be confronted by scorn and disrespect at every turn. Only when they learn not to instantly resort to violence and threats will they deserve to not be. Welcome to my comic book and/or police review blog! Deni's "A Note from the Publisher" continues on a theme that I hadn't noticed until just now: every new issue of Cerebus now seems to be a landmark issue! It's an interesting self-promotion take that I have to admit I'd never thought of trying. "Every new Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea review is a landmark review!" You know what else is a landmark? Places & Predators, my Cribbage-based Roller Playing Game! You don't even really need any friends to play it. Just read it like a book and enjoy it! Or play it like a Fighting Fantasy Adventure Book! Use some online Cribbage app! Figure out how to use the crib in ways the online app definitely won't let you! Oh, the reason this is a landmark issue is because more letters came in than normal! It's a hit! Deni also reveals that she'll be making the Cerebus plush toys that were advertised in previous issues and at half the price! So kudos for stealing that job from the person who originally made them! It probably wasn't anything so dramatic but what fun is going through your life defaulting to the best, most optimistic possibility in every given situation? Have some fun! Act paranoid! Purposefully misunderstand your father and scream in his face! Kick a dog! Sorry! I got carried away! I would never kick a dog unless it was attacking me. But even then, I'd be wishing I was kicking the owner who let it go off leash. The dog doesn't deserve my epic self defense tactics in its soft face. But the owner certainly does!

The basics on the origin of The Cockroach.

I didn't realize Dave came up with The Cockroach because it was gross and disgusting. I just thought it was a more clever version of a bat, keeping to the shadows, hiding, surviving, a constant annoyance to poor people. In any case, The Cockroach is the greatest parody of The Batman, hands down. Because The Batman has become such a parody of himself time and time again, you just need an absolutely Batshit insane version of him. I don't do segues so Cerebus has come to Beduin to sell the Black Blossom Lotus. Just look at all the continuity Dave Sim is giving his readers! I wonder how many comic book fans would list "continuity" as their number one favorite thing about comic books? Like, are there people who would list that above great writing or terrific art? Judging by how terrible a lot of mainstream comic books are and how rabid many of the fans, I'd suspect it was a fairly high number. Maybe 65 out of 100, Bob. Change that card! The Merchant Cerebus deals with is a kook who might just have a super secret identity. It's weird to think of the Roach as being capable of actually living an independent life! I suppose he's just barely hanging onto his sanity at this point (and, of course, only during the day). But then he comes into the mystical aura of strangeness that aardvarks apparently exude out of their buttholes and he just loses it completely. He becomes less a merchant slash superhero and more a superhero slash zombie cosplayer. Also he becomes one of the greatest characters ever created! There are like four of them in the entirety of Cerebus! The exclamation point is because I think that's an incredibly high number and not because I think it's an incredibly low number. Most comic book's protagonists never quite make it to the greatest ever! Plus I'd probably give Cerebus more than four but a lot of them are just really good parodies, satires, and slightly-off representations of characters and people who already existed. The merchant buys the Black Blossom Lotus from Cerebus for 100 gold pieces and then promptly drops it out of the window and into the Feld River.

Not only does Dave Sim come up with a bunch of memorable plots across three hundred issues, he also comes up with a lot of good Dungeons & Dragons campaign ideas.

The Merchant pays Cerebus a sack of gold and gets ready for bed as Cerebus begins to leave. Before Cerebus can even exit the hallway outside the merchant's bedroom door, Cerebus begins to hear loud ranting coming from the other side. It's a lot of hissing and threats of murder. Against his better judgment, Cerebus decides to see what's happening and gets his first look at the guy who will be a huge headache to him for the next two hundred issues or so.

One thing I like about Dave Sim is how honest he is when recounting where he came up with or stole his ideas. He gives plenty of credit for the Cockroach and his hissing to Marshall Rogers and Jules Feiffer. It's admirable because a lot of people would just figure, "It might make me look less of an artist and who's going to know anyway?!"

Just a few days ago, my old elementary school friend who was blown up in Iraq and then became a comedian playing to Christians and patriots (which I mention so you'll understand how, as a wounded veteran, he'll never be criticized by his audience and he'll never really grow as a comedian) posted a Tik Tok on Facebook that was just a film of a television set capturing the "Masked Debate" bit on Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. The clip only shows all the clips of news readers saying "masked debate" and none of Oliver's or the show's set-up. He then watermarked it with his Tik Tok name. Now all of those naive followers who can only seem to reply to his posts with the laugh/cry emoji probably think he wrote it. Better yet, they're probably mostly Trump followers who would never admit to finding that libjerk Oliver or his show funny. What's even better is that the Tik Tok has some quote along top that's watermarked with somebody else's Tik Tok name! So it looks like Bob doubly stole the bit. Man, I wish I'd joined the army and gotten blown up and then found Christ and developed an audience of uncritical naive yahoos who would wildly applaud everything I wrote! Why didn't I join the army?! Oh, that's right. Because I believed I had a future right out of high school. Well, I guess Bob is having the last laugh now! Cerebus follows Cockroach across the rooftops to find out what's going on. He eventually witnesses the Cockroach confront a man in an alley, accuse him of killing his parents, knock him out, and steal his gold. The gold part of the night helps Cerebus to ignore all of the other confusing stuff. The Cockroach doesn't gloat for long. He's off to find another victim! Cerebus witnesses him mug another guy whom he also accuses of killing his parents. He also admits to doing this for thirty years. So now Cerebus thinks the guy is crazy but also crazy rich. At the end of the night, the Cockroach returns home and drops the gold purses into a secret panel in the wall. He falls asleep, wakes up, and, when he sees Cerebus, acts as if Cerebus were just leaving. So Cerebus realizes that the merchant doesn't have any idea what the Cockroach is doing. Which means Cerebus is going to recover those gold purses before the Cockroach comes back! At the moment, Cerebus doesn't realize that he's going to be finding thirty years worth of gold purses in the merchant's walls. Can you imagine how boring the last two hundred and eighty-nine issues of Cerebus would have been if Cerebus managed to steal all of the Roach's gold?! I'm sure some of you are thinking, "It wouldn't have been any worse than the last hundred issues we did get!" Also, can you imagine how fat Cerebus would have gotten drinking tons of ale and eating loads of rich foods? I'm laughing so much just trying to picture it! Ha ha!

Eight feet of gold would make Cerebus fatter than a domesticated raccoon!

In the end, Cerebus only makes it away with three sacks of gold. But in the process, he manages to completely screw up the Roach/Merchant equilibrium that's lasted for thirty years. In trying to exploit the man's mental illness so that he'd help Cerebus move the gold, Cerebus drags the Roach personality into the daylight. From here on out, the Roach will simply be a pawn of others, susceptible to almost any second-rate demagogue (although most of the people who subsequently control the Roach are of the first rate variety). The Aardvark Comment section was two pages this issue and had this letter that I don't think was being sarcastic?

I guess I also wouldn't necessarily consider a chainmail bikini as "a disgusting costume." He's probably thinking about Power Girl.

Also, and I admit it might have been a joke, but Dave Sim reveals that Ronald Reagan is Cerebus' father. That, um, makes sense! Cerebus #11 Rating: A. I almost gave it a B+ for variety but then I remembered I just read the first appearance of the Roach. I also forgot that my ratings don't actually mean anything.

[literatelogan]

the binding of two forces | a love that never lost momentum

{1: when we were young}  wattpad | a03

kobayashi kei is a teacher at U.A. who has an established relationship with aizawa shouta. kei and shouta have known each other ever since they started at UA together. their friendship had always been strong but this is the story of how they came to be as a couple and what the future holds.

a/n - !manga spoilers! slightly divergent of the main plot but it will be caught up to the current season of the anime after the time skip. she is the homeroom teacher for 1B but don't worry we still stan vlad in this house so he's now 2B. bit of a promotion for the trouble. her quirk is fatigue manipulation. she has the ability to manipulate the fatigue of oneself or others, both mental and physical. she can increase, decrease, cause or prevent fatigue. in order to increase someone's fatigue, she needs to either leech from another person or herself. her fatigue is only affected if she is using a lot of energy either giving or transferring. if she takes energy from someone else, she will gain it. she cannot rest or sleep until she gets all of her energy out either by wearing herself out mentally or physically. she cannot kill someone easily but she can make some lose consciousness.

Click. Click. Click. The tapping of a pen on a desk was the only noise other than Kei's breathing in the room. A few moments of peace before her homeroom class arrived. The stillness was almost unnerving but she needed to focus on grading these reports. She loved teaching but the downside was the actual grading part. Most of the time the assignments her students worked on were interesting. Today was an exception. "Why did I think that telling them to write about their inspirations was a good idea?" It had now been eight reports about All Might. Eight. She liked All Might, sure, but reading about how great he was over and over and over was almost as exhausting as listening to everyone talk about it all the time. "Heh. Exhausting." she thought to herself. The irony of her ever thinking anything was exhausting when her hero name was Vitality was not lost on her.

A glance at the clock let her know that she had about five minutes more of grading before her students would arrive and bring her joy again. Tap. Tap. The small noise made Kei jump in her seat. It broke the silence and her eyes jolted to the door frame. "Oh thank god." At least it wasn't a student. "Shota, shouldn't you be grading too?" she scolded in her brattiest tone. When he rolled his eyes, she knew she was in for it. "I finished mine last night, remember? While you were laying on my lap watching another one of your dramas. I still don't know how you watch those." She scoffed. "So you are going to pretend that you don't watch them secretly with me?" She couldn't help the smirk that played at her lips. Right as he was about to reply, he was nudged to the side as Monoma rushed into the room. He sat so quickly at his desk that both of the teachers looked at him quizzically until a few more came rushing in. He proudly said, "See! I'm so much faster than all of you. I don't know how you ever ke-" His self-praise was cut short by Kendo giving him a swift chop on the head.

Shota walked quickly over to the desk and put down a travel mug on Kei's desk. Undoubtedly a matcha latte extra sweet, her favorite. "This is why I originally came over. I should get going now before Iida has an aneurysm." He planted a quick kiss on her forehead and whispered, "Love you, kitten. See you after class." She whispered in reply, "Love you too, Sho." before he darted out of the room about as fast as he's willing to move. As most would call it, a snail's crawl. "Good afternoon, everyone. I'm still working on your reports so you have another day before hearing your scores." A hand shot up but before Ms. Kobayashi could even answer, Tokage was already speaking. "Did he bring you a matcha latte again? That's so cute. How did you two even get together? You're the cutest couple on campus." Kei chuckled as she started to answer each question but was interrupted with the next before she was able to reply. "Yes, Mr. Aizawa did bring me a matcha latte. We met while we attended U.A. together with Present Mic and after they had a massive fight over me. Oh goodness, it was gory. He won by almost killing Present Mic. Now can we return to class?" Most of the class was laughing or at the very least trying to hide a smile as Ms. Koboyashi began to speak while pointing to the board behind her. The story of Kobayashi Kei and Aizawa Shota was a long but interesting one.

{time jump to their first day at U.A.}

Although Kei didn't do wonderfully in the entrance exam with her quirk alone, she was able to use her combat to push herself ahead. She ranked mid-range towards the bottom of the accepted applicants but all that mattered to her was that she got in. She got into the hero course at U.A. High School. She read the acceptance letter over and over and had her parents read it over and over. It didn't click until her first day. None of her friends from middle school had been interested in the hero course but one of them, Kasai Emiko, was in the support course and an acquaintance was in the business course. She got along just fine with Noguchi Aoi but she just didn't know him well enough to call him her friend. Kei made friends pretty easily though. She had made sure to get quite a lot of rest the night before. If she was to use her quirk at all today, she would need it. The uniform felt like it's very own superhero costume. She walked towards the building with a skip in her step. A girl passed her with short dark purple hair and the curviest body she had seen. She looked from the other girl to herself and giggled quietly to herself. "Maybe after I finish puberty I'll look like that." Her feet quickened to catch up to the other girl. "Hey! What's your name? I'm Kei Kobayashi but just Kei is fine." The other girl smiled at her and they started walking with each step synced. "My name is Nemuri Kayama. Nice to meet you, Kei. Are you in hero course too?" Kei nodded eagerly. "I am! And I'm so excited. Which homeroom are you in? I'm 1A." Kayama was a year above but they walked together anyways. Kei watched the eyes of all the boys in the halls go immediately to Kayama and giggled nudging her a little. "I think you already won the award for the prettiest girl in school." Kayama laughed and rolled her eyes at the boys as she pointed out 1A to Kei. "I'll see you later, Kei. Get a good seat." The girls waved to each other as they went opposite ways.

As Kei walked into her class she looked around at everyone in the class. There were so many different looking people. Some had quirks that affected their physical appearance and others were still very much a mystery. She hadn't realized she had stalled in the doorway until someone shoved past her. They all took their seats but Kei wasn't sure where to sit. She looked around as she rubbed her now sore arm. There was a boy with blonde hair that couldn't stop talking and smiling. He was loud and she liked that. Another extrovert to meet was always a good friend made. She walked over to him and smiled. "I'm Koboyashi...uh...I mean Kei. Is it okay if I sit over here with all of you?" The blonde boy was with two other boys. One with blue...hair? It was more like a poof. Like a cloud. And one that looked like he was miserable to be there. Slumped over with his dark hair almost covering his face. "Call me Hizashi! We're going to be best friends. I just know it!" He shouted. Kei flinched a little at the volume but laughed and nodded. "I'd like that." The boy with the blue cloud hair introduced himself as Oboro and the other boy stayed quiet. Kei shrugged a little and started chatting with Hizashi and Oboro. "Are you guys super excited? I can't believe we're really in the hero course! I'm so energized. I have to be for my quirk though." She said the last part more seriously. Oboro pointed to his cloud hair and chuckled, "I'm cloud boy." Kei just barely heard the quiet boy murmur something about that being a really bad hero name. "So he wasn't mute. Just shy." The class started as soon as their teacher came in and the four of them mostly quieted down. Mostly. It was going to be a day of exciting school events but no teaching yet. And it still went by faster than she could have ever imagined. Now she was about to be thrust into an entirely new world. One where she would learn how to use her power to its full potential. Kei made sure to see Kayama before leaving for the day. She kindly let Kei unleash her feelings and excitement on her. It turned out that their quirks had some similarities. "I hope one day we're pro heroes by each other's sides." They shared a hug and phone numbers before parting.

The train home from her first day at school felt like the longest one ever. Kei was starting to run a little low on energy. She had exerted too much mental energy and it had leeched from her physical energy too. It was a long day full of very fun and exciting things but it was still very overwhelming. The whole family sat down to dinner and Kei immediately perked back up as her dad served up the plates. "I made Kei's favorite to celebrate, we've got your gyoza, edamame and of course we have a matcha latte for Miss ball of energy." He shook his head a little. Even though it wasn't traditional to drink matcha with milk, Kei had tasted it once and didn't know if she could ever go back. Soy milk was a pain to find but they were oh so worth it. Her head rested on her mom's shoulder in between sips of her latte. Her brother, Satoru the middle child, sat across from her about to flick an edamame bean at her when her sister, Ryoko the oldest, snatched it midair. "Stop that. That's the future family pro hero." She gave Kei a wink and they continued their meal. Eating dinner as a family felt so nice after a long day. The comfort of being home with the ones she loved meant everything to Kei. She laid in bed after dinner and thumbed through her favorite book. She had read the Narnia series so many times that each page looked as though it might fall apart if she flipped it again. They brought her comfort though. In times of stress or uncertainty, at least she always knew what was going to happen in her books. She finished as many chapters as she could before she was low on energy. As she got ready for bed, she cleaned up all of her school supplies and organized everything so she would be ready to go in the morning. A deep breath as she looked at her uniform.

Tomorrow the real work began.

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Second Love

LoganLight, AO3

Summary:

Adrien isn’t one to fall in love slowly. So, when his heart pulls him in a new direction he goes all in.

Notes: Written for Week 3 of Adrien AUG-reste.

————————————————–

Adrien parried Kagami’s strike and launched a counter attack. Kagami was ready however and dodged easily while landing a hit.

“Sloppy, Adrien,” Kagami commented as they retook their positions.

“Oh, you know,” Adrien replied with a teasing lilt. “It’s hard to focus when your opponent’s so pretty.”

Kagami missed her lunge and Adrien scored a hit. She lifted her mask so he could see her narrowed eyes. That was the first time Adrien called her pretty. Your underhanded tactics won’t be enough to secure victory!

“Is that why I beat you so easily?” Kagami asked.

Adrien lifted his own mask to reveal a smug grin. “You don’t need a handicap for that.”

 Kagami felt a blush forming so she resumed her stance. He did likewise and they crossed swords.

Kagami was grateful for these one-on-one practice sessions. Even though they saw each other at many mutual high-class events it wasn’t the same. They were expected to act a certain way while representing their parents. But when they were fencing?

Adrien mirrored her movements perfectly. Her skill forced him to fight with everything he had. Kagami brought out the best in him and Adrien grinned at the challenge. There were no illusions when they were fencing. He could glimpse the parts of Kagami she kept hidden. Adrien was sure she could see him more clearly, too.

Kagami understood what it was like to be held up to impossible expectations. In his opinion, Kagami did it much better than him.

Which is probably why he was on his back at the moment.

“You let yourself become distracted,” Kagami accused while pointing her foil at him.

“Guilty,” Adrien admitted, embarrassed.

He got back on his feet and they started again. Kagami was always impressive with a sword; her movements fluid and sure like the Dragon she was. Especially motivated by his teasing to show him who’s boss.

But Adrien had motivations of his own. Recalling the move D'Argencourt used on him, Adrien twisted his foil around Kagami’s and shot it out of her hands. He could feel her surprise through the mask.

Removing his mask he smiled at her. “How’d I do?”

Kagami took off her own mask. “That was new.”

Adrien’s smile morphed into a grin. “I’m full of surprises. Some find it, disarming.”

Kagami stared at the self-satisfied look on his face. “… I’ll give you that one but you need better material.”

Adrien pouted.

Kagami turned away to hide her blush and the small smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “Anyway, we should get changed.”

 They went to remove their sweaty gear. Adrien thinking of ways to make Kagami laugh. Kagami thinking of Adrien’s compliments and if they meant what she hoped they did.

 ——————————–

“What made you decide to switch targets?”

Adrien missed the intended keys and the piano clanged in protest. He gazed at her with wide, startled eyes then looked down. “I… I realized something recently.”

“And that is?” Kagami prodded gently.

Adrien took a deep breath. “That it’s not enough to choose someone. They have to choose you, too. And she didn’t. It took me a long time to accept that.”

Kagami was silent as she thought over her words. “You are sure this time?”

Adrien gave her a rueful smile. “You’re an incredible person, Kagami. Honest, brave, loyal. And you picked me. That… I’d like to make it work. If you’ll give me another chance?”

Kagami felt her cheeks heat up at his hopeful look. “I would like that very much.”

Adrien’s whole face lit up and this time it was Kagami’s turn to look away. She smiled at how Adrien wore his heart on his sleeve. For his part he admired Kagami’s rare, shy smile.

Adrien reluctantly pulled himself out of the gentle gaze he was giving Kagami. “… Do you want me to play anything?”

Kagami blinked as she came out of her own thoughts. “Pardon?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his head and gestured to his piano. “I do have to practice. Just thought you might want something specific?”

“I’d like to listen to your favorite, actually,” Kagami said. “You haven’t told me what it is.”

Adrien grinned and started playing an upbeat tempo that reminded him of black-and-white American cartoons and barroom brawls. Kagami wasn’t expecting that but what surprised her most was Adrien himself.

Kagami had never seen him so into a song before. She’d only heard him play a handful of times, true, but he didn’t smile then. He seemed to bounce with the melody and Kagami soon found herself tapping her feet to the rhythm.

The song was so unlike everything that was expected of them. It wasn’t the sterile so-called perfection that permeated their families. Kagami understood what this meant to Adrien without him having to say a word.

They smiled at each other as the joyful tune filled Adrien’s empty room.

—————————-

“No, no, no!” Vincent cried. “I need emotion! Like when your maman serves fresh made spaghetti!”

“Mother doesn’t cook,” Kagami replied stiffly.

Adrien smiled placatingly at the exasperated photographer and placed a gentle hand on Kagami’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

He turned Kagami away from the demanding cameras so they wouldn’t see her struggle. “How you holding up?”

“I’ve done photo ops before. Those photographers weren’t nearly so demanding,” Kagami admitted.

They were at a photoshoot to promote the Agreste and Tsurugi families’ joint venture.

Adrien gave her a sympathetic look. “Yeah, Vincent always gets the best photos but he’s not easy to satisfy. I remember how awkward my first time modeling was. It took me a while to relax.”

“You were quite awkward in the photo you showed me,” Kagami pointed out, a question in her voice.

Adrien rubbed the back of his head, blushing slightly at the memory of his first photo-shoot. “Father intervened.”

Kagami gave him a small smile. “It’s endearing.” Kagami took pleasure in watching his blush darken. “… I’m unsure I’ll be able to perform what’s expected of me.”

Adrien dropped his hand from her shoulder to lace his fingers through her’s. “Think of it as a fencing match. How do you prepare for those?”

“I imagine my opponent prostrated before me after I have defeated them,” Kagami stated seriously.

Adrien blinked then his lips curled up in a smirk. “Well, then think of that with Vincent,” he stage whispered.

Kagami’s eyes took on a predatory glint.

Things went more smoothly after that and they made good progress. Adrien was happy to have someone to talk with; it made the usually boring shoot fun. Kagami gained a new respect for Adrien. His schedule was filled with so many of these! It wasn’t like fencing really but thinking of that gave Kagami something to focus on.

As the photographer wrapped up the young couple wondered when they’d have time to go on their first proper date.

 —————————-

Adrien and Kagami ran through the crowd hand in hand. They flew as though being pursued. Which would only happen if they’d made a mistake in sneaking away from their respective guardians.

Planning the date without telling either of their parents turned out to be harder than expected. The convention may last all week but their schedules didn’t align for most of it.

Still. Adrien had never cosplayed before and Kagami had never been to a convention. Neither was going to miss the first one dedicated specifically to the Guardians of Paris.

Not for the first time Kagami thought about how unfair it was that he’d chosen her alter ego. Ryuko’s colors looked good on him. For his part Adrien thought the same thing about Kagami choosing to cosplay as Aspik. Especially since Viperion was much more popular.

Needless to say, both were blushing messes. Pretending they weren’t a romantic tension filled moment away from melting into a puddle of goo… Kagami was better at pretending than Adrien.

“Tell me again about this akuma video game?” Kagami asked. Adrien was very excited when he heard Max would show it off since he hadn’t gotten a chance to play it yet.

“Max designed the game himself! It’s got all the villains up to Gamer 2.0 and he’s thinking of adding the new ones eventually.” Adrien led her through the miling crowd of superheroes.

Mostly everyone dressed up as Ladybug and Chat Noir, with a few of the other heroes thrown in. Which was part of the reason Adrien insisted on coming as anyone besides them.

That and he didn’t want to see Kagami as Ladybug. That was just asking for trouble.

They found Max’s stall filled with people playing on a half dozen consoles. The line moved quickly as every pair was only allowed a three fight round. Max himself was engrossed in a fierce battle; Adrien didn’t want to break his concentration.

Kagami observed the unusual battles with interest. If she was going to beat Adrien she’d need every advantage. Finally it was their turn.

“I may not have played the game before but Max says the mechanics are similar to UMS III. And I’m still the second best player in our school,” Adrien boasted playfully, purposefully stoking her competitive side.

“Only second best? My victory is assured then. I may be rusty but my proficiency in gaming will be more than enough to destroy you.” Kagami would not let his smug smirk go unchallenged!

Adrien’s grin widened and he picked M. Pigeon, eager to see if the villain would be as effective as last time.

Odd but then so was her date; Kagami chose Riposte.

Adrien gave her a questioning look. Kagami straightened her posture in determination. “He doesn’t control me,” she said simply.

Adrien nodded, he was always in awe of Kagami’s strength and this small display was no exception.

Adrien and Kagami fought furiously for dominion. Learning the controls on the fly and trying to one up each other.

M. Pigeon’s victory caught Kagami by surprise. “Since when can he do that?”

“M. Pigeon used Meteor Strike! It’s super effective!” Adrien leaned into her space. “Say, what do I get if I win?”

Kagami leaned in. “I suppose you’d get to kiss me.”

Adrien turned bright red.

“And if I win I get to kiss you,” Kagami continued.

Powering through the thought of a kiss he could actually remember Adrien focused. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

Kagami gave him a predatory look. “Not at all.”

Adrien swallowed and met her charged gaze with his own. “Guess I better win then.”

Kagami won the next round.

“Why’d you pick Reflekta?” Kagami asked curiously.

Adrien sighed at the Mime’s victory pose onscreen. “I rock a mean pair of high heels.”

Kagami blinked in surprise, then she smiled. “How bold of you.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his head shyly.

Kagami picked Darkblade for the last round. Adrien thought of choosing Troublemaker like Ladybug had but decided to go with Kung Food.

The last fight was much more balanced as both of them had gotten used to the controls. Kung Food had greater range but Darkblade had better defense. Adrien threw cheese bombs as Kagami dodged and blocked. She managed to get close enough to make Kung Food pull out his sword.

Both were on their last sliver of health as they attacked. Their characters charged and hit each other simultaneously. Both fell as the screen proclaimed their battle a tie.

“… Max!” Adrien exclaimed.

“That was unexpected,” Kagami pulled Adrien out of the way of the next pair of players.

“He would put a mutual K.O. in his game!” Adrien grumbled as they walked to a less crowded corner.

“Are you upset because you think you don’t get to kiss me?” Kagami asked.

Adrien reddened slightly. “Well, we don’t have a winner and… What do you mean by that?”

Kagami turned to face him, her cheeks tinted pink. “In a certain sense we both won.” She let that sink in for a moment.

Adrien’s eyes widened and then he was giving her that soft look again. He stepped closer and Kagami did the same. Heedless of the noise of strangers surrounding them.

The kiss was gentle and tentative. Adrien was as soft as she imagined him to be. Kagami as warm as he knew she could be.

They pulled apart slowly and as they stared into each other’s eyes Kagami said the first thing that came into her head. “You smell like Camembert.”

Adrien’s face burned. "I’m sorry! I can’t help it! There’s this, um-“

Kagami placed a finger on his lips. "I like Camembert.” Adrien got even redder if that was possible and she swore she heard someone stifling their laughter.

“You do?” Adrien’s face was an odd mix of relief and chagrin.

“But I’m not sure I want a boyfriend that smells like cheese all the time.” Kagami teased stepping out of his grasp.

Boyfriend! “Yeah, hate for you to tell our friends your boyfriend stinks and give them the wrong idea.” Adrien reached out and grabbed her hand. That was the first time Kagami had called him her boyfriend!

“As opposed to the right idea?” Kagami decided that a blushing Adrien was well worth the effort. Even if he did get used to most of her teasing by the second go around.

Instead of answering immediately Adrien reached up to remove their masks. They didn’t get in the way of the game so they’d been left on.

“I’m sure they already know what my girlfriend got herself into.” Adrien was gratified to see Kagami’s blush darken to match his.

“Return my mask, Adrien. It completes the look,” Kagami said to distract herself.

Adrien complied. “I like being able to see your face. When I first saw you I thought: Wow, she’s cute!”

Kagami smiled shyly as she looked down at her mask. Adrien was always so liberal with his compliments. She had trouble in that department. “When you returned my saber to me I realized how honorable you are. Not many opponents would insist on a rematch after being declared the winner.”

“… You didn’t have to comfort me that day,” Adrien said. “But you did. You were gentle with me. Kind. And I-”

“You’ve already apologized for that,” Kagami interrupted. “And I will not have my boyfriend under a self-inflicted debt.”

“Well. Why don’t you humor me and let me take you ice skating again?” Adrien asked. “A proper date. Just the two of us this time.” He clasped her hands between his as he looked into her eyes.

“As I recall I took you ice skating,” Kagami corrected. “But I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Adrien laughed lightly. “I’ll take that as a yes!”

The young couple redonned their masks as they went to explore the rest of the convention. Wandering anonymously and aimlessly to whatever caught their eye.

And as they walked among superheroes Adrien realized that he hadn’t reacted to the red and polka dots once.

Kagami squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture. They were both making this up as they went along and neither was sure of where it would lead. But Adrien knew they’d figure it out together.

————————————————–

Notes: Basically I took that soft look Kagami got at the end of Oni-chan and ran with it. Also needs more puns. (Written before Desperada)

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 1.6 - In which we meet futuristic techno Dredd

II heard the cape arrive on his souped up motorcycle.  I didn’t want to be seen fleeing the scene of a fight, and risk being labeled one of the bad guys by yet another person, but I wasn’t about to get closer to the street either, in case Lung was feeling better.  Since there was nowhere to go, I just stayed put.  Just resting felt good.

Yeah it’s better you stay and try to explain what went down. Fleeing after all this..wouldn’t be a good look. And let’s try to stay far away from  the knocked-out fire demon while we’re at it.

If you’d asked me just a few hours ago about how I thought I would feel meeting a big name superhero, I would have used words like excited and giddy.  The reality was that I was almost too exhausted to care.

You have experienced a loooot of things just today girl. It’s not everyday you get into a life or death fight and then meet some people of dubious character, all in the span of like 20 minutes. Shame your first encounter with a bona-fide superhero is in a situation like this.

It looked as though he flew up onto the roof, but the six-foot long weapon the man held kind of jerked as he landed.  I was pretty sure I saw the tines of a grappling hook retreating back into the end of the weapon.  So this was what Armsmaster looked like in person, I thought.

Armsmaster! So...master of weapons? He seems to have a pretty badass one in one arm, which seems to have multiple uses. Good old Grappling Hooks! The way for grounded super heroes to keep up with flight-types!

The largest superhero organization in the world was the Protectorate, spanning Canada and the States, with ongoing talks about including Mexico in the deal.  It was a government sponsored league of superheroes with a base in each ‘cape city’.  That is, they had a team set up in each city with a sizable population of heroes and villains.  Brockton Bay’s team was officially ‘The Protectorate East-North-East’, and were headquartered in the floating, forcefield-shrouded island that you could see from the Boardwalk.  This guy, Armsmaster, was the guy in charge of the local team.  When the core group of the top Protectorate members from around Canada and the States assembled in that classic ‘v’ formation for the photo shoots, Armsmaster was one of the guys in the wings.  This was a guy who had his own action figures.  Poseable Armsmaster with interchangeable Halberd parts.

Wooaaah. So he’s a really big shot! Leader of the local Protectorate which seems to be this universe’s version of the Avengers/Justice League/big main hero organization. He lives in that badass flying fortess! And seems to be pretty marketable as well. Meeting him in the flesh like this in your first day, woah .

He really did look like a superhero, not like some guy in a costume.  It was an important distinction.  He wore body armor, dark blue with silver highlights, had a sharply angled v-shaped visor covering his eyes and nose.  With only the lower half of his face exposed, I could see a beard trimmed to trace the edges of his jaw.  If I had to judge, with only the lower half of his face to go by, I’d guess he was in his late twenties or early thirties.

High-tech superhero armor and professional gear! Sweet!

He’s giving me a mix of iron man and judge dredd vibes with that costume. Either way he seems to exude “veteran and skilled super” a lot.

His trademark and weapon was his Halberd, which was basically a spear with an axe head on the end, souped up with gadgets and the kind of technology you generally only saw in science fiction.  He was the kind of guy who appeared on magazine covers and did interviews on TV, so you could find almost anything about Armsmaster through various media, short of his secret identity.  I knew his weapon could cut through steel as though it was butter, that it had plasma injectors for stuff that the blade alone couldn’t cut and that he could fire off directed electromagnetic pulses to shut down forcefields and mechanical devices.

HE HAS A MASTER WEAPON WHICH CAN ACT AS ALL OF THE WEAPONS AT THE SAME TIME. THAT’S SO AWESOME

I knew he was gonna be technologically-focused, with that badass floating island and all!

A spear-axe hybrid strong enough to cut through steel, with plasma injectors and EMP blasts?? Fucking sweet.

“You gonna fight me?” He called out.

“I’m a good guy,” I said.

Stepping closer to me, he tilted his head, “You don’t look like one.”

Oof. That’s true. Miss looking-like-a-living-bug with dark colors and yellow lenses doesn’t seem very heroic at... all

Also I really like how that line was delivered for some reason. You don’t look like one

That stung, especially coming from him.  It was like Michael Jordan saying you sucked at basketball.  “That’s… not intentional,” I responded, not a little defensively, “I was more than halfway done putting the costume together when I realized it was already looking more edgy than I’d intended, and I couldn’t do anything about it by then.”

Your power is very hard to use in a kid-friendly way! You command a swarm of biting, stinging, maybe-venomous, maybe-flesh eating bugs! That grimdark look is actually apropiate

I wonder if this work will explore heroes who want to do good things but have characteristically “evil powers”. Taylor could easily be one!

There was a long pause.  Nervously, I turned my eyes from that opaque visor.  I glanced at his chest emblem, a silhouette of his visor in blue against a silver background, and was struck with the ridiculous thought that I had once owned a pair of underpants with his emblem on the front.

Pfft! Taylor your young fangirl self is adorable

Also gave me Deku flashbacks, as with the hero journals

“You’re telling the truth,” he said.  It was a definitive statement, which startled me.  I wanted to ask how he knew, but I wasn’t about to do or say anything that might change his mind. 

Lie-detector?? God his suit just has everything

I love technology based powers by the way. When a hero stacks himself up to the teeth in sweet tech it’s a sight to behold

He approached closer, looking me over as I sat there with my arms around my knees, he asked, “You need a hospital?”

“No,” I said. “Don’t think so.  I’m as surprised as you are.”

“You’re a new face,” he said.

“I haven’t even come up with a name yet.  You know how hard it is to come up with a bug-themed name that doesn’t make me sound like a supervillain or a complete dork?”

Hmm that’s true! Swarm sounds villanous, same with Plague, Sting, Hivemind, Pestilence...

Bug is probably too simple. (Insect) Queen maybe? Eh Queen is so general that it’s probably taken already. Control? Probably taken  and sounds villanous.

He chuckled, and it sounded warm, very normal, “I wouldn’t know.  I got into the game early enough that I didn’t have to worry about missing out on all of the good names.”

There was a pause in the conversation.  I suddenly felt awkward.  I don’t know why, but I admitted to him, “I almost died.”

“That’s why we have the Ward program,” he said.  There was no judgement in his tone, no pressure.  Just a statement.

Hmm, what is that? Some sort of superhero training?

I nodded, more to give a response than out of any agreement with the answer.  The Wards were the under-eighteen subdivision of the Protectorate, and Brockton Bay did have its own team of Wards, with the same naming convention as the Protectorate; The Wards East-North-East.  I had considered applying to join, but the notion of escaping the stresses of high school by flinging myself into a mess of teenage drama, adult oversight and schedules seemed self-defeating.

Oooh so it’s like the Teen Titans, and other young superhero groups! Young teenage superheroes! Nice!

Also yeah, that would probably be similar to school, and you wanted escapism with this. I don’t think you would get bullied though, but I understand your reticence.

“You get Lung?” I asked, to change the subject from the Wards.  I was pretty sure that he was obligated to try and induct new heroes into either the Protectorate or the Wards, depending on their age, to promote the whole agenda of organized heroes who are accountable for their actions, and I really didn’t want him to get on my case about joining.

He probably is obligated to ask, yeah. I suppose they don’t condone vigilantism. So changing the subject to the dragon man is probably a good idea!

“Lung was unconscious, beaten and battered when I arrived.  I pumped him full of tranquilizers to be safe and temporarily restrained him under a steel cage I welded to the sidewalk.  I’ll pick him up on my way back.”

“Good,” I said, “With him in jail, I’ll feel like I accomplished something today.  Only reason I started the fight was because I overheard him telling his men to shoot some kids.  Only realized later that he was talking about some other villains.”

Armsmaster turned to look at me.  So I told him, walking him through the fight in general, the arrival of the teenage bad guys, and their general descriptions.  Before I finished, he was pacing back and forth on the roof.

“These guys.  They knew I was coming?”

Yeeah that was a pretty epic misunderstanding there.

Also they probably knew you were coming thanks to the kinda-omniscient know-it-all in their team soooo yeah.

I nodded, once.  As much respect as I had for Armsmaster, I wasn’t in much of a mood to repeat myself.

“That explains a lot,” he said, staring off into the distance.  After a few moments, he went on to explain, “They’re slippery.  On those few occasions we do manage to get in a toe to toe fight with them, they either win, or they get away more or less unscathed, or both.  We know so little about them.  Grue and Hellhound were working on their own before they joined the group, so there’s some information there, but the other two?  They’re nonentities.  If the girl Tattletale has some way of detecting or tracking us, it would go a long way towards explaining why they’re doing as well as they are.”

Insteresting! So Regent and Tattletale are very well hidden! I imagine it must be easy for Tattletale to do so, but I still don’t know what Regent does... He’s definitely the most misterious of them all at the moment.

Heh, and he uses Hellhound for Bitch, he’s a hero so of course

It kind of surprised me to hear one of the top level heroes admitting to being anything less than perfectly on top of things.

“It’s funny,” I said, after a few moment’s thought, “They didn’t seem that hardcore.  Grue said they were kind of panicking when they heard Lung was coming after them, and they were casually joking around while the fight was going on.  Grue was making fun of Regent.”

“They said all this in front of you?” he asked.

I shrugged, “I think they thought I was helping them out.  The way Tattletale talked, I think she thought I was a bad guy too or something.”  With a touch of bitterness, I said, “Dunno, I guess it was the costume that led them to that assumption.”

“Could you have taken them in a fight?” Armsmaster asked me.

I started to shrug, and winced a little.  I was feeling a little sore in the shoulder, where I’d tumbled on the roof after being blasted by Lung’s flames.  I said, “Like you said, we don’t know a lot about them, but I think that girl with the dogs-”

“Hellhound,” Armsmaster said.

“I think she could have kicked my ass on her own, so no.  I probably couldn’t have fought them.”

Yeah they didn’t really seem evil per se, they were pretty nice to us! Maybe because they confused us for a villain...

And yeah I don’t think you could have beaten them. Of the two powers I sorta know of them, hellbeasts and kinda-omniscience beat bugs, I’m pretty sure. So yeah.

“Then count it as a good thing that they got the wrong impression,” Armsmaster said.

“I’ll try to look at it that way,” I said, struck by how he easily he was able to employ the whole ‘take a negative and turn it into a positive’ mindset I’d been trying to maintain.  I envied that.

Heroes tends to be more optimistic than most.

“That a girl,” he said, “And while we’re looking forward, we need to decide where we go from here.”

My heart sank.  I knew he was going to bring up the Wards again.

Yeaah and he’ll put you in an awkward spot again...

What do you want to do Taylor? Start as a standalone hero and then work your way up through your acts and deeds? Could you even do that and still be well-regarded by the Protectorate?

“Who gets the credit for Lung?”

Caught off guard, I looked up at him.  I started to speak, but he held up his hand.

“Hear me out.  What you’ve done tonight is spectacular.  You played a part in getting a major villain into custody.  You just need to consider the consequences.”

“Consequences,” I muttered, even as the word spectacular rang in my ears.

Oh, so he wants to talk about who gets the credit? Huh, didn’t expect that. It could be a good first step for her hero career, but it could also be dangerous to let villains know about her existence, especially if she’s going solo

“Lung has an extensive gang throughout Brockton Bay and neighboring cities.  More than that, he has two superpowered flunkies.  Oni Lee and Bakuda.”

I shook my head, “I know about Oni Lee, and Grue mentioned fighting him.  I’ve never heard of Bakuda.”

So he has two liutenants with powers! Oni Lee was mentioned before and now... Bakuda. Baku- makes me think explosions from Bakuha, so it could be explosions-based?

Seems to be a new member, anyways.

Armsmaster nodded, “Not surprising.  She’s new.  What we know about her is limited.  She made her first appearance and demonstration of her powers by way of a drawn out terrorism campaign against Cornell University.  Lung apparently recruited her and brought her to Brockton Bay after her plans were foiled by the New York Protectorate.  This is… something of a concern.”

Damn, terrorism against a University and a conforntation with the New York Protectorate? She seems to have some infamy even before joining

“What are her powers?”

“Are you aware of the Tinker classification?”

I started to shrug, but remembered my sore shoulder and nodded instead.  It was probably more polite, too.  I said, “Covers anyone with powers that give them an advanced grasp of science.  Lets them make technology years ahead of its time.  Ray guns, ice blasters, mechanized suits of armor, advanced computers.”

Oh sweet

So tinkers are the inventors, the tech-based superheroes who use futuristic technology and all kinds of high-specs gear, and that is their superpower?

Oh I love technology-based powers so much.

“Close enough,” Armsmaster said.  It struck me he would be a Tinker, if his Halberd and armor were any indication.  That, or he got his stuff from someone else.  He elaborated,  “Well, most Tinkers have a specialty or a special trick.  Something they’re particualrly good at or something that they can do, which other Tinkers can’t.  Bakuda’s specialty is bombs.”

I stared at him.  A woman with a power that let her make bombs that were technologically decades ahead of their time.  No wonder he saw it as a concern.

So Armsmaster is a tinker! Makes sense with his impossibly-amazing plasma spear-axe, lie detector and super armor. I suppose a tinker’s threat can vary a lot depending on prep time and current gear. I like them!

Super-advanced explosives? Oh boy, that sounds like potencially a fucking nightmare

“Now I want you to consider the danger involved in taking the credit for Lung’s capture.  Without a doubt, Oni Lee and Bakuda will be looking to accomplish two goals.  Freeing their boss and getting vengeance on the one responsible.  I suspect you’re now aware… these are scary people.  Scarier in some ways than their boss.”

“You’re saying I shouldn’t take the credit,” I said.

“I’m saying you have two options.  Option one is to join the Wards, where you’ll have support and protection in the event of an altercation.  Option two is to keep your head down.  Don’t take the credit.  Fly under the radar.”

Yeah I could see how Taylor could become the target of these two underlings, which would probably be more than she can handle.

So Armsmaster is offering her the possibilities of

a) Joining the teenage super-squad and take the credit for Lung or

b)Keep going solo but maintain your involvment in this a secret

I wasn’t prepared to make a decision like that.  Usually, I went to sleep at eleven or so, waking up at six thirty to get ready for my morning run.  At my best guess, it was somewhere between one and two in the morning.  I was emotionally exhausted from the highs and lows of the evening, and I could barely wrap my head around the complications and headaches that would come from joining the Wards, let alone having two insanely dangerous sociopaths coming after me. 

Aand one of those options is already giving Taylor a headache

On top of that, I wasn’t so ignorant as to miss Armsmaster’s motives. If I opted to not take the credit for Lung’s capture, Armsmaster would, I was sure.  I didn’t want to get on the bad side of a major player.

....True, politics could be at play here

Athough I don’t know if Taylor has just a bad view of power structures in general, considering she thought that autobiographical book she read was probably all propaganda

...Which could be true, and the whole system could be corrupt at least a little, and Armsmaster is offering her two options where he hopes he gets the credit and the glory

“Please keep my involvement in Lung’s capture secret,” I told him, painfully disappointed to have to say it, even as I knew it made the most sense.

He smiled, which I hadn’t expected.  He had a nice smile.  It made me think that he could win the hearts of a lot of women, whatever the top two-thirds of his face looked like.  “I think you’ll look back and see this was a smart decision,” Armsmaster said, turning to walk to the other end of the roof, “Call me at the PHQ if you’re ever in a pinch.” He stepped off the edge of the roof and dropped out of sight.

He seems very pleased at her decision, which reinforces my belief that he did want to get the credit after all. Or he’s happy she doesn’t get in trouble. Or both.

Armsmaster seems like an ok guy, probably a little vain, or glory-seeking, but in a way, all superheroes are a bit like that. I have defintely seen much worse examples.

You get a thumbs-up, cool plasma-spear man

Call me if you’re ever in a pinch.  He’d been saying, without openly admitting, that he owed me one.  He would take the lion’s share of the credit for Lung’s capture, but he owed me one.

Before I was all the way down the fire escape, I heard the thrum of his motorcycle, presumably carrying Lung towards a life of confinement. I could hope.

Oh true! Nice, you can call in a favour of a team leader of the superhero mega-alliance! Good start to your superhero career, Taylor!

And he just took away Lung so it seems she was indeed the push the situation needed to get him into custody! Yes!

It would take me a half hour to get home.  On the way, I would stop and pull on the sweatshirt and jeans I had hidden.  I knew my dad went to sleep even earlier than I did, and he slept like a log, so I had nothing to worry about as far as wrapping up the night.

It could have gone worse.  Strange as it sounds, those words were a security blanket I wrapped around myself to keep myself from dwelling on the fact that tomorrow was a school day.

It could have gone worse is a good mentality to have!

Let’s hope the three bitches aren’t too insufferable tomorrow.

[gerryconway]

Stan the Man

Since the news of Stan Lee's death I've wanted to write something meaningful about my own feelings for him, what he represented to me as a creator and as a human being, and what kind of impact his life had on my life. For many reasons (I was dislocated by the Woolsley Fire and haven't fully settled down since our return) I haven't had a chance to give such an in-depth appraisal much thought. Honestly, I doubt I could do a full appraisal of Stan's importance in my life even under the best of circumstances. His work and presence as an icon and as a human being helped form who I am today. To write a full appreciation of Stan I'd have to write my autobiography.

Among my most vivid childhood memories is my discovery of the Fantastic Four with issue 4, the first appearance of the Sub-Mariner. I was nine years old, and I'd been a comic book reader for years at that point. I knew about Superman, I knew about Batman, I'd read the early issues of Justice League. I was a compulsive reader, voracious (still am)-- devoting hours a day to books and stories and comics and even my parents' newspapers. (Both my parents were avid readers. My dad read science fiction, my mom loved mysteries.) I vividly recall the astonished joy I felt when my mom took me to our local library and got me my first library card. I was six, I think, and the reality of a roomful of books just for kids seemed like a gift from heaven. I won all the reading awards at school-- any competition for reading the most books in a year was over as far as I was concerned the first week. By nine, I'd already graduated from "age appropriate" books for pre-teens to Heinlein's juveniles, Asimov's robot stories, and the collected Sherlock Holmes stories of Arthur Conan Doyle. I was a total reading nerd.

And then came Fantastic Four.

I've never been hit by lightning but I have to imagine the shock might be similar to what I experienced reading that early adventure of Reed Richards, Sue Storm, her kid brother Johnny, and Ben Grimm. If you weren't a comic book reader at that time you cannot imagine the impact those stories had. There's nothing comparable in the modern reader's experience of comics-- nothing remotely as transformative. (To be fair, I suppose both "The Dark Knight Returns" and "Watchmen" come close, but both remarkable works built on prior tradition and were perhaps a fulfillment of potential and creative expectations. The Fantastic Four was _sui generis_.) Over a series of perhaps five issues, a single year, Stan and Jack Kirby transformed superhero comics in an act of creative alchemy similar to transmuting lead into gold, and just as unlikely.

They also changed my life. Because Stan credited himself as writer and Jack as artist, he opened my nine year old eyes to a possibility I'd never really considered before: I could be something called a comic book "writer" or "artist."

Think about that, for a moment. Before Stan regularly began giving credits to writers and artists, comics (with a few exceptions) were produced anonymously. Who wrote and drew Superman? Who wrote and drew Donald Duck? Who wrote and drew Archie? Who knew? (Serious older fans knew, of course, but as far as the average reader or disinterested bystander knew, most comics popped into existence spontaneously, like flowers, or in some eyes, weeds.)

Stan did more than create a fictional universe, more than create an approach to superhero storytelling and mythology-- he created the concept of comic book story creation itself. Through his promotion of the Marvel Bullpen, with his identification of the creative personalities who wrote and drew Marvel's books, he sparked the idea that writing and drawing comics was something ordinary people did every day. (Yes, yes, to a degree Bill Gaines had done something similar with EC Comic's in-house fan pages, but let's be honest, EC never had the overwhelming impact on a mass audience that Marvel had later.) He made the creation of comic book stories something anyone could aspire to do _as a potential career_.

That's huge. It gave rise to a generation of creative talent whose ambition was to create comics. Prior to the 1960s, writing and drawing comic books wasn't something any writer or artist generally aspired to (obviously there were exceptions). Almost every professional comic book artist was an aspiring newspaper syndicated strip artist or an aspiring magazine illustrator. (Again, there were exceptions.) Almost every professional comic book writer was also a writer for pulp magazines or paperback thrillers. (Edmond Hamilton, Otto Binder, Gardner Fox, so many others-- all wrote for the pulps and paperbacks.) Comic book careers weren't something you aimed to achieve; they were where you ended up when you failed to reach your goal.

Even Stan, prior to the Fantastic Four, felt this way. It's an essential part of his legend: he wanted to quit comics because he felt it was stifling his creative potential, but his wife, Joan, suggested an alternative. Write the way you want to write. Write what you want to write. Write your own truth.

He did, and the rest, as the saying goes, is history.

When I picked up that issue of Fantastic Four, I was a nine year old boy with typical nine year old boy fantasies about what my life would be. Some were literal fantasies: I'd suggested to my dad a year or so earlier that we could turn the family car into the Batmobile and he could be Batman and I could be Robin and we could fight crime. After he passed on that idea I decided we could be like the Hardy family-- he could be a detective and I could be his amateur detective son, either Frank or Joe. Later I became more realistic and figured I could become an actor who played Frank or Joe Hardy in a Hardy Boy movie. In fact, by nine, my most realistic career fantasies involved either becoming an actor or an astronaut, and of the two, astronaut seemed like the more practical choice.

Stan and Marvel Comics gradually showed me a different path, a different possible career. By making comic books cool, by making them creatively enticing, and by making the people who created comics _real_ to readers-- Stan created the idea of a career creating comics.

Stan alone did this. We can argue over other aspects of his legacy-- debate whether he or his several collaborators were more important in the creation of this character or that piece of mythology-- but we can't argue about this. Without Stan's promotion of his fellow creatives at Marvel there would have been no lionizing of individual writers and artists in the 1960s. Without that promotion there would have been no visible role models for younger, future creators to emulate. Yes, some of us would still have wanted to create comics-- but I'd argue that the massive explosion of talent in the 1970s and later decades had its origin in Stan's innovative promotion of individual talents during the 1960s.

Nobody aspires to play in a rock band if they've never heard of a rock band. The Marvel Bullpen of the 1960s was comicdom's first rock band.

That was because of Stan.

For me, Stan's presence in the world gave direction and purpose to my creative life, and my creative life has given meaning and purpose to my personal life. I am the man I am today, and I've lived the life I've lived, because of him. From the age of nine on, I've followed the path I'm on because of Stan Lee. (So much of my personal life is entangled in choices I've made as a result of my career it's impossible for me to separate personal from professional.)

My personal relationship with Stan, which began when I was seventeen years old, is more complex and less enlightening. It's a truism your heroes always disappoint you, and I was often disappointed by Stan. Yet I never stopped admiring him for his best qualities, his innate goodness, his creative ambition and unparalleled instincts. People often asked me, "What's Stan really like?" For a long time I had a cynical answer, but in recent years I realized I was wrong. The Stan you saw in the media was, in fact, the real Stan: a sweet, earnest, basically decent man who wanted to do the right thing, who was as astounded by his success as anyone, and who was just modest enough to mock himself to let us know he was in on the joke. I imagine Stan was grateful for the luck of being the right man at the right place at the right time-- but it's true he _was_ the right man. No one else could have done what he did. The qualities of ego and self-interest that I sometimes decried in him were the same qualities needed for him to fulfill the role he played. In typical comic book story telling, his weaknesses were his strengths. And his strengths made him a legend and a leader for all who came after him-- particularly me.

This has been a rambling appreciation, I know. Scattered and disjointed. Like I said, trying to describe the impact Stan had on my life would require an autobiography.

When I started thinking about Stan in light of his death I realized, for the first time (and isn't this psychologically interesting?) that Stan was born just a year after my father. When I met him, as a teenager struggling with my own father as almost all teenage boys do, Stan probably affected me as a surrogate father figure. Unlike my own father, Stan was a symbol of the possibilities of a creative life. He was a role model for creative success, like other older men in my life at the time. But unlike them, he'd been a part of my life since I was nine years old. A surrogate father in fantasy before he partly became one in reality.

Now he's gone. Part of me goes with him, but the greater part of me, the life I've led and built under his influence, remains.

Like so much of the pop culture world we live in, I'm partly Stan's creation.

'Nuff said.

[cat-scarr]

The Significance of Ben’s Characterization in Season 3 of Alien Force Onwards

There has been quite a bit of controversy surrounding Ben’s characterization in season 3 of Alien Force onward. Ben is criticized for downgrading as a character, and just generally being written much worse than he was in the previous two seasons. Although there is definitely a shift in the way his character is presented, I would like to go over the why - aside from the writers’ decision to make him “more like his ten year old self”, which seems to be what the majority conclude his later characterization to. My point is not to defend everything the writers decide to do with his character, I only want to defend my favourite character by trying to understand where Ben himself would have been coming from since these events are still canon and true to his story. 

This “new attitude” begins to be apparent in the episode “Vengeance of Vilgax.”  I would argue this is the beginning of Ben’s “hero” identity really becoming a permanent aspect of his immediate life since he has obviously gained quite a large amount of notoriety from Alien Force’s seasons 1-2 concluding with establishing peace between the Highbreed and the rest of the Universe in “War of the Worlds.”  

I mean, when did he even get all of this?!

Being “Ben 10″ the “superhero” has become kind of a big deal at this point in his life. Not that he was unheard of before, but, like I said, this “title” is now much more permanent since he has proved that he is capable enough to stop, not only a war, but a xenocidal mass murder of every species in the Universe along with the Highbreed. And that this was ultimately done without resorting to complete violence, which is why I would say it is more important that peace was established between races rather than “a war was stopped.” 

Just to give Ben the credit he deserves, everyone depended on him to come up with a solution. To put this into perspective, all the pressure is on a fifteen year old to think of a way to stop an alien invasion which intends to commit alien genocide. 

Even Azmuth, who is very intelligent and probably has an even better understanding of what the Omnitrix can do than Ben, ended up saying “all is lost, they are too powerful to fight.” 

Ben realized that fighting the Highbreed to the death was not a solution because it promotes death on one side of the battle. It was more important to establish peace because that way, nobody “loses.” Everyone can continue to live - a hero’s job is to save lives. 

Furthermore, as we were shown throughout Seasons 1-2, this kind of work starts to become increasingly prevalent in his life. In other words, it starts to become his whole world. And as you might guess, that takes up a lot of his time. I'd say the amount of time he spends fighting aliens only increases the longer he does it. 

Being a “superhero” is a 24/7 job. There is no “schedule.” 

So even if he values the work he does and likes his job, doesn't that mean he has less time for himself?

You might say that this kind of rationalization is selfish since Ben chose to do this work out of selflessness. But, does choosing to do work which involves putting your own life on the line mean one must also sacrifice their own individual private identity? 

Does he automatically becomes only a an “alien superhero” and no longer has the right to be a human? 

In “Vengeance of Vilgax”, Ben is late for a mission with Gwen and Kevin because he was immersed in his free time, watching TV and being awarded another metal. 

On a separate note, Gwen and Kevin had an unusually hard time taking down Ssserpent. They should be powerful enough to do that in less than the hour they claimed to be fighting him for before Ben finally showed up. That only proves that Ben is the reason they win half the time - he really is the most powerful. This could have been because they were inexperienced with Ssseprent, but even so Ssserpent shouldn't be that hard to defeat because they absolutely have more than enough experience fighting much more dangerous offenders. Ben didn't even put that much effort into stopping him so that probably aggravated them even more. 

This is where his "arrogant" attitude comes in. Although I can see how his attitude would be taken as arrogant, I believe the bigger issue moving forward is a lack of caution when Ben is confident in his abilities. Which, in the given circumstances, he has the logical right to have. Anybody who has access to as much power as Ben does would realize how capable they are and in turn develop a level of confidence. The problem with this is that fact that it might lead them to either underestimating their opponent or overestimating their chances of being successful. Realizing one’s own strength can be both a blessing and a curse. 

Later in the same episode, Kevin brings up the idea to hack the Omnitrix, and because neither Ben nor Kevin seem to have much caution going into this operation, it backfires on them. Hacking the Omnitrix was a bad idea with even worse consequences. But, this was not just done out of stupidity. They were about to go up against Vilgax - who they haven’t seen since “Secret of the Omnitrix” and is now allegedly much more powerful. Keep in mind, Vilgax probably showed up again due to word of Ben 10′s recent success spreading across the Galaxy. Vilgax prepared himself to fight Ben 10 and end him.

They knew that they would need the best the Omnitrix could offer to take him on successfully. They had a justified reason, but it was absolutely still a bad idea. 

I get the feeling that many of us seem to think Ben has become a whole new character, possibly a “worse” character than he was in the first two seasons of Alien Force. “Vengeance of Vilgax” exists to set up a character flaw to demonstrate that Ben is human, and humans are not generally overpowered perfect Gods. Being a human means being fallible. But being a fallible human does not mean that one is no longer capable of being inspiring or successful. It does not make you a failure or useless. 

It must be even more damaging to think that, while part of you is strong, the “real” you underneath the superpowers is not as “great.” Would you not try to match that strength on both sides of your identity? 

Because Ben is written as a character who becomes a superhero by choice rather than being born super powered, there is a balance to be established between being the ideal version of himself that the Universe expects and not losing his true self in the process of fulfilling this “destiny.” 

Just because this flaw is being written into his character, it does not mean all his previous traits are erased. Something that is still constant is Ben’s motivation to do the right thing. Every time there is a scene where Ben interacts with Max, his tone of voice is more serious and he pays close attention to Max. This comes from his human connection to his Grandpa and all that he has learned from him. This is his vulnerable, human side. 

Max: It’s almost showtime, Ben, and I’ve been thinking. Vilgax is Plumber business. Good as you are, you’re still just a kid. I’ll take him on.

Ben: This is my fight, grandpa. Vilgax challenged me, and I’m the one with the Omnitrix. At least most of it.

Max: You’ve got less than an hour, Ben.

Ben: I’ll be there. And I’ll win. Love you, grandpa.

He jokes around, but he is not insensitive. 

Ben: “Hey, Kevin, why don’t you change back to normal? You've been ugly for like 40 miles.”

Kevin: “I can’t.”

Ben: “What?”

Kevin: “I can’t!”

Kevin: “Let me bring you up to speed, hero. Thanks to you, I can’t turn back. I’m a monster.”

Ben: “I’m sorry, Kevin. I didn’t know. I was just kidding around.”

That is because Ben has not just been reduced to “an arrogant jerk”, he is still the same person we have known the entirety of the series. And just like anybody would, he is reacting to the circumstances in which he finds himself in at this point in his life. People generally, in terms of personality, are not just one way their entire lives. Especially when the person we are talking about is a teenager who has been through much more than any other average teenager you may know. And on top of that, will continue to be faced with increasingly difficult situations as he gets more and more invested in the life of a superhero. 

If that is the case, how much would it help him to give in to every insecurity that might stand in his way? He has dedicated himself to being “Ben 10.” This responsibility only gets heavier as time goes on. Why else would Vilgax feel the need to acquire the powers of the greatest heroes of ten worlds in order to “prepare” to take on Ben again? Vilgax perceives Ben as a threat to his own strength. This is ironic because there are moments throughout the series where, even though his enemies think highly of him, he seems to believe he isn’t as great as they say. He needs to match the heroic greatness with his own personality, and that is where this shift in characterization comes from. It is entirely an emotional thing. 

The following are episodes which fall under Season 3 Ben’s supposed problematic Characterization: 

 “Simple”

This is even more proof of almost every species in the Universe having a very high expectation for “the great Ben 10.” He stopped one war, he could stop their war too, they seem to believe.The problem is that these aliens don’t seem to have any grasp on what it means to have so much responsibility. And when this is what is being asked of him, do you really expect Ben to not at least try?

“Vreedle, Vreedle / Don’t Fear the Repo”

The most important part of this episode in terms of Ben’s characterization was his dialogue in court. If just taken at face value, his words can be interpreted as very self-centered. But keep in mind at this point in time almost every being in the Universe who has heard of Ben Tennyson thinks very highly of him. 

In order to convince the court to take his side, he plays up his attitude to match this reputation. You’ll even notice the way he says it sounds “acted.” 

“Your honor, I am Ben Tennyson - The Ben Tennyson. Wielder of the Omnitrix, saviour of the Universe. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I need you to do me a little favor, Judgey. There’s been a little mix up here. Ship is part of my team now. That’s, the famous Ben Tennyson’s team. Say, ever seen an Omnitrix up close before, Judge?”

“Judge Domstol. Dom, may I call you Dom? These things can happen when you’re chosen to bear the awesome responsibility of the Omnitrix.”

“The court rules in favour of...Ben Tennyson. There is no reason the wielder of the Omnitrix should have to bother himself with petty matters such as this. I apologize for wasting your time, Mr. Tennyson.”

It seems that if they had just tried to explain the matter in the way Kevin was attempting to, Baz-El would have won because, legally, Ship was his physical property, not Julie’s. But because Ship helped out during the Highbreed war, that makes him a part of Ben 10′s team and therefore it would be in an injustice to a very important public figure such as a superhero if the property had been repossessed, as well as an injustice to the rest of Universe because Ben 10′s team works to promote galactic peace.

Aside from that, another part of Season 3 onwards was the argument that “Ben was a jerk to his girlfriend.” Here, you might come to believe so because this episode makes it seem as though Ben doesn't care about Ship being Julie’s “dog.” The reality of the matter is that Ship is not “a dog.” Julie sees him as a dog only because she doesn’t have as much experience with alien technology as Ben does so it makes sense for Ben to perceive Ship as the Galvanic Mechamorph that he is. He should have his guard up when it comes to alien technology. What selfish reason would Ben have to not want Julie to have Ship anyway? Would it be so far fetched to assume Ship could potentially harm Julie? 

“Ghost Town”

According to Gwen, what Ben did here was “really really stupid.” 

He threw himself into Ghostfreak so that the rest of Vilgaxia would no longer have to endure his slavery. Ben’s intention was not to hurt anyone, especially not Gwen or Kevin and while he was possessed by Ghostfreak. He probably had no idea what was happening around him anyway! He didn't just act oblivious because he “didn't care.” That’s not like Ben to do at all. 

“The Secret of Chromastone” 

This episode is a great example of what was started in “Vengeance of Vilgax.” Not only does he have much less time for himself, but something like having a cold doesn't mean his job ends. 

Even if Ben did stay home, Tetrax would probably still find him to get to Chromastone. Being the wielder of the Omnitrix is still relevant in times where he probably feels less than heroic, whether he likes it or not. 

“Above and Beyond”

This episode might not have worked so well if it had been done in a previous season because Ben’s characterization here is very specific. The first time Ben went up against Manny and Helen in the season one episode “Plumbers Helpers”, they actually seemed to overpower him.  

I would argue that since then Ben has built up this confidence, so it allows him to believably pretend to be “evil” because he realizes what he is potentially capable of. This episode shows us how unstoppable he would be if morals weren’t a factor and he didn’t hold back. 

Contrast this with how unsure he was in “Ben 10 Returns” about whether he would even be able to do it without Max. Well, here, he is doing all of this without Max. 

“The Final Battle”

“Azmuth help me! Please! Just so I can help them.” 

The final episode of Alien Force, where Ben is shown having a very significant internal conflict after being forced to hand over the Omnitrix to Vilgax. If you put this turn of events into perspective, realize just how much it must weigh on him. He has previously proved to be so capable of defeating Vilgax easily. The entire Universe put him up on a high pedestal this entire season. 

It probably made him feel useless, like he really didn’t deserve to be so praised for everything, that it was all because of the Omnitrix. 

Is it the tool he had that lead him to act like a hero, or his selfless ambition to use this opportunity to do good? 

After all, anybody can be armed with a weapon, but it is then up to that person to chose what they will do with it. And now that he has chosen to use it to help others, that is what he is expected to continue to do. 

I feel like he needed this arc to establish how having the entire Universe begin to depend on him can affect him for better and worse. This was the transition from being a vigilante superhero, to well known on a galactic level, to world famous in Ultimate Alien. Moving forwards through the series as he ages, I would say there is definitely an improvement in how much of a hero he believes he is, and how he goes about doing his work as he settles into the reality that he can no longer be “normal.” The whole entire Universe is in his hands and he is expected to live up to their expectations of him. 

That is enough to make anyone start acting “different.”  

As he comes to accept this moving forward, just by his actions you can see it is not always an “act” he puts on to be considered “a hero.” This is especially apparent in the Ultimate Kevin arc. He so very cautious about Kevin's rampage that he couldn't allow him to hurt anybody else. Which is what led him to consider that putting him down might have to be a possibility. During the Ultimate Aggregor arc in general, Ben is always shown to be attentive to the immediate problem at hand. He is not so focused on appearing to be “the great Ben Tennyson” or be what everyone expects him to be. Rather, what is more important is handling the situation in a productive way. Again, he is not insensitive to others’ opinions on his “flaws”, but if it is not immediately vital, then he does not make the situation all about him. 

Azmuth: “We find ourselves in a situation so dire, that perhaps I should risk giving Ben my new Omnitrix.” 

Ben: “New Omnitrix? Gimmie! I’ll kick Aggregor’s butt!

Azmuth: “No, it’s not completely ready and clearly neither are you.” 

Ben: “Not yet?” 

Azmuth: “At the rate you’re regressing likely not ever.” 

Ben: “I’ve wanted a chance to apologize to you for months. But right now I’ve gotta stop Aggregor. If you’re not here to help, we’ll catch up later.” 

Max: “Wait. Ben. Hear him out.” 

Azmuth: “Your lack of patience is foremost among your many weaknesses.” 

In the Ultimate Alien episode, “Map of Infinity”, Azmuth interprets this as a lack of patience and claims he is “regressing.” Even if this is a flaw, it stems from a place of good intention - the reason why he continues to do this job. 

Now, here’s a question to consider when criticizing someone. 

Is there anyone who never does anything stupid? 

And just because this person has done something that some might consider to be “stupid”, does that mean you should totally give up on them? Are they not capable of improving? 

I would argue that there are levels of “immaturity” and “stupid decisions”, depending on the harm they cause and intention behind the action. And, as I keep reiterating, a person learning a lesson does not guarantee that they will never make the same mistake again. That is just reality.

So is it not a little unfair to continuously go back to Ben’s past mistakes since he has grown from that and established so much more character development? Doing something bad and then recognizing that what you have done is wrong is character development in itself. There does not always have to be a lesson learned or punishment given, just the realization that nobody is always perfect.

This is especially important when everyone expects you to be perfect because you are a “legendary superhero.”  

This is something touched on in the Omniverse episode “Showdown.” Ben is reminded of the time he lost his favourite transformation, Feedback, which he blames himself for. This loss clearly emotionally weighs him down because he doesn't blame anyone other than himself and realizes the mistake he made.

In order to accept it and move on, he realizes he must forgive himself because continuing to beat himself up over it is not going to help him in any way. He’s already established what he decided to do in that situation as wrong, now the only thing he can do is try to be better in the future. 

Forgiveness and acceptance that you are not and never will be “perfect” is the only way to improve in the present moment. 

Going back to the fact that “Ben 10″ is so glorified throughout the Universe, I’d like everyone to realize that, just because Ben has matured since he was ten years old, does not mean he has “left behind” his flaws. His has not suddenly become someone to idolize. It is absolutely fine to look up to him as, I believe, there is something everyone can learn from him. But, even though he has the ability to become one, he is not, and does not try to be, a God. 

Maybe this is what influences Ben’s quite accepting perception regarding other people’s flaws, weaknesses, and past mistakes. Come to think of it, he doesn't really tend to pick on people’s specific flaws all that much. Definitely not as much as others tend to do towards him. He “gives people second chances." 

“You trust people. You give them second chances. And they live up to your expectations. Kevin was a sociopath when you were kids, but you trusted him anyway.” - Max (Ultimate Alien episode: “Absolute Power” part 1)

As the series progresses, this is still something that is constant in his characterization. Ben doesn't seem to focus on what people have done wrong because blaming others for their mistakes and guilting them does not help them improve in the immediate moment. 

In the Omniverse episode “Hot Stretch” , Ester is responsible for what could have potentially been a disaster. 

The only thing is that she allegedly didn't know the full extent of what her petty crime would lead to. But does Ben see a point in guilting her for it when there are lives in danger as they speak?

 "We're past the blame stage."

This where I would like to insert some lyrics which provide a much more vulnerable view of the reality of such an idolized, legendary superhero who is still, and always will be, a fallible human underneath it all. 

“I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane

I'm more than some pretty face beside a train And it's not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry Fall upon my knees Find a way to lie About a home I'll never see

It may sound absurd, but don't be naive Even heroes have the right to bleed I may be disturbed, but won't you concede Even heroes have the right to dream And it's not easy to be me”

“Men weren't meant to ride With clouds between their knees

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet Digging for kryptonite on this one way street Only a man in a funny red sheet Looking for special things inside of me”

- “Superman” by Five for Fighting

Alien Force’s Season 3 onwards showed Ben finding how he can “be the hero” rather than just “acting” like how a hero should according to others not in his place.

It is not as easy as one might think to just be given abilities and always do that is expected of you to do with them. There will be times when you will doubt yourself, there will be times when others will underestimate you and it will affect the way you see yourself. Becoming one’s best self is a process of fall down and get up again, trail and error. That is part of being human. The part of Ben that seems to always be left out when talking about “Ben 10.” 

No Watch Ben seemed to parallel Prime Ben in “Ben 10 Returns” because of what he thought he was “missing” - not only the Omnitrix, but the authentic, confident, selfless, self-assured heroicness that is something he developed over the course of the series. 

The other alternate Bens also have their own watches along with level of confident attitude, but they were not heroes. They became their own downfall because they got so submersed into the act of being “all powerful” that they let it consume them. 

“It’s just a gadget. Be the hero!” - Prime Ben’s “dying words” (Omniverse, “And Then There Were None”) 

To conclude, I feel like the title "hero" ends up becoming somewhat restricting when it comes to this. It's like it takes up the entirety of his character, and people forget that you can't have "Ben 10" without "Ben." Ben, the human, is the one who is affected by all this underneath all the superpowers. He becomes such a great hero and fights for peace, but does he ever really get to experience peace himself?

There is quite a bit that Ben can’t be any more. Making a mistake on any level will be condemned by everyone if it falls out of the parameters that define being a “hero.” 

So how much time in the life of a hero is there to doubt oneself when everyone is depending on you to get the job done?

Not much when it’s always “hero time.”

[miraculouspaon]

Worth

A short prequel (that nobody asked for) to Sins of the Father. Nino Lahiffe and Chloe Bourgeois meet for coffee. 

Nino arrived at the cozy cafe with a few minutes to spare, so he was surprised to find Chloe Bourgeois already waiting for him. She hugged him warmly, if somewhat impatiently, before ushering him into one of the restaurant’s many private booths.

“You’re looking perfect as always,” Nino said cheerfully. “How’ve you been? I don’t think we’ve seen each other since, what, the spring fundraiser? Has it been that long?”

Chloe shrugged. “Probably,” she said. “This year’s been crazy. Daddy had me in Dubai just about every other month overseeing the grand opening of our new hotel. Things are finally slowing down, thank God.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“How are you guys? How’s the kid?”

“Amira?” Nino grinned proudly. “She’s great. Her class just took a trip to the planetarium. You should visit if you’re ever in the mood to have her talk your ear off for three hours straight.”

Chloe made a face. “Pass. What about you and Adrien? You’re still at that radio station, right?”

“Yeah, nothing new to report there. Adrien just got promoted.”

“Oh!” Chloé perked up. “I saw Adrien managed to get Ladybug for the winter fundraiser next month. A girl couldn’t get a ticket, could she? Seeing as how I’m Adrikins’ oldest friend and all.” Chloé blinked innocently, and Nino laughed. “Where is Adrikins, anyway? I already ordered for both of you, his is going to get cold.” She pushed two cups of espresso across the table to Nino.

“Actually, Chloe, I was hoping we could talk just the two of us,” Nino said. He picked a cup up and took a sip. “Wow, that’s good.”

Chloe frowned. “Why? You and I don’t have anything in common other than Adrien. No offense.”

“None taken.” Nino took another sip.

“And it’s not a surprise party, because his birthday was last month. My assistant remembered to send something, right?”

“Personalized handkerchiefs, Adrien was very touched,” Nino said dryly. “No, it’s just something a bit… sensitive. And depending on how the conversation goes, you might not want Adrien to know it happened. I need to ask you something. Something big. I didn’t want you to feel pressured by knowing other people would know if you said no. I want you to feel completely free to make whatever decision is right for you.”

Chloe’s confused expression cleared. “Ohhhh,” she said. “Of course. I know exactly what you’re going to ask.”

Nino blinked. “Um. I really doubt that, Chloe.”

Chloe took Nino’s hand and squeezed it warmly. “Of course I’ll do it,” she said. “Honestly, I was expecting you to ask, gosh, about five or six years ago? I mean, geez, Lahiffe, none of us is getting younger. But of course you and Adrien were stupidly young the first time-no offense, I mean, I love Amira, she’s probably the most not-annoying kid I know, I’m just saying, of course you didn’t want to rush into a second one after all that, right?”

Nino had spent the better part of the last ten years bracing himself for this moment. He’d imagined dozens of different scenarios-different Miraculouses, different possible holders, different looming crises needing just the right new hero. The absolute only thing each situation he’d envisioned had in common, the one thing he thought he’d be able to count on, was being less confused than whoever he made the offer to. “Um.”

“And God, all that paperwork, just for one baby! Of course you don’t want to do all that all over again! I would be so happy to help you and Adrien, Nino, don’t spend another second worrying about that.”

“Um.”

Oh.” Chloe winced and sucked air through her teeth, “But nine months from now, that’s,” Chloe pulled out her cell phone and checked her personal calendar, “August, which means a third trimester in the summer, and I absolutely cannot be fat in summer, I'm so sorry, do you mind if we push it forward just a few months?”

The pieces finally clicked in Nino’s brain, and his eyes widened. “Chloe, that’s not-“

“Also, do you mind if you’re the father? I mean,” Chloe rolled her eyes, “I know you’re both the father, but you know what I mean. It’d be too weird with Adrien, he’s practically my brother. Whereas you’re, like,” Chloe glanced Nino up and down, “the weirdly hot guy my brother managed to score.”

“Chloe!” Nino took a deep breath. “That is not even a little bit what I wanted to ask you!” Chloe let out an affronted huff. “Not that I’m not incredibly touched at the offer,” he added quickly. “Really, it’s, it means so much, and of course if we were-but you’re right, if we were going to ask it would have been years ago, Amira’s almost twelve, we’re not really looking to start over again from the beginning, you know?”

Chloe frowned, only slightly mollified. “If you’re not asking me to be your surrogate, what on earth could you possibly want, Lahiffe?”

Nino took a deep breath. “I wanted to offer you a Miraculous, Chloe.”

Chloe stared at Nino unblinkingly. “Where the hell did you get a Miraculous?” she finally asked.

“That’s kind of a long story,” Nino said. “I’d love to tell it to you, if you say yes. But for now, all you need to know is that I’m sort of in charge of all of them. It’s my job to look after the heroes who have one, and find new people to be heroes when the need arises.”

“New heroes,” Chloe repeated. “Me. You want me to be a new hero. Like Ladybug.”

Nino nodded. “If you say yes, you won’t need a fundraiser ticket to meet her, Chloe. You’ll fight alongside her. And Chat, and Rena. And me occasionally, but probably not that often honestly. What do you think? Do you have any questions?”

Chloe picked up a spoon and began to stir it in her coffee anxiously. “Do I get to pick what animal?”

“No, sorry. You’d be getting the Bee Miraculous. It’s a really good one, though, you’ll like it. And you look good in yellow,” Nino added, grinning.

“I look amazing in yellow,” Chloe corrected. She frowned. “It’d be a secret, right?”

“That’s right. Only the other Miraculous holders could know who you really are. No bragging, no-”

Chloe cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand. “Duh,” she said. “But you said Adrien would know if I said yes.”

Nino’s cheeks went pink. “No, I didn’t,” he lied.

“Which means Adrien is Chat Noir,” Chloe continued, “whose best friend is Ladybug, which means that Ladybug…” she groaned. “Oh, God, no. Nino. Please, please tell me that my all-time favorite superhero is anybody other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Nino bit back a grin. “You know, you two have more in common than you realize.”

“She hates me! Ladybug hates me!”

Nino patted Chloe’s hand. “No, she doesn’t. And she’s going to love having you join the team, really. I would not be asking you if I wasn’t sure you were the perfect person for the job.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Chloe leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms. “There hasn’t been a new hero since… since you, I guess? Is that right?” Nino nodded. “So why me? Why now? What’s going on?”

Nino sighed. “Have you heard of Alessandro Cattaneo?”

Chloe shook her head. “Should I have?”

“Honestly, I’m kind of relieved you haven’t,” Nino said. “I was starting to worry everyone in Paris had heard of him. He’s starting to gain a pretty big following, stirring people up against the Miraculouses, preaching that they’ve fallen into the hands of misguided abusers-”

Chloe cut him off with a scoff. “As if! Ladybug’s the greatest superhero of all time!”

Nino raised an eyebrow. “Even though she’s Marinette?”

“Well.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “I mean. Even Marinette can’t ruin Ladybug. She’s incredible. This city would have been destroyed a hundred times over if it weren’t for her. Anybody who doesn’t see that is an idiot. She’s the greatest superhero of all time. Well,” Chloe straightened, “for now, anyway. I’m sure I’ll be giving her a run for her money.”

Nino smiled. “And that’s why I’m asking you,” he said.

“Because I’m a Ladybug fan?”

Nino shook his head. “No, there are plenty of those. No, Chloe, the thing that’s so special about you is that you know what you’re worth.”

Chloe pressed her lips together. “People call me stuck-up to my face all the time, but I think that’s the first time somebody’s tried to make it sound like a compliment.”

“It is, though,” Nino said, his voice urgent. “Other superheroes, they’re… we’re, as a breed, we’re very prone to self-doubt, to blaming ourselves for everything. There’s always that one person we couldn’t save, that one fight we wish had gone differently. Cattaneo’s taking advantage of that. I can already see it starting to get to Ladybug and the others. But his rhetoric isn’t going to work on you. We need somebody who knows what she’s worth, who knows what we’re worth, and who won’t let anybody get away with saying otherwise. When Cattaneo twists the truth, we need somebody strong enough to twist right back and throw it in his face. Do you think you can be that person for us?”

Slowly, Chloe nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you bet I can. Nobody insults Ladybug and gets away with it, not while I’m around.”

[their-destinys-writer]

Misadventures in Reporting #3

About the series: Misadventures in Reporting is a series of short stories about the adventures of a normal reporter living in an abnormal world.

Rating: PG-13 for mild cursing and violence

Word count: 2,576

Also in: Wattpad

Support this series in Ko-fi or Patreon (Posted on early access in the latter)

#3 - Teleman’s Mark

“I don’t even know where to begin with you.”

Melinda gulped under the scrutiny of Mr. Sullivan. Boy, was she in so much trouble. But nobody told her doing the right thing would be cheap. The reporter took a deep breath, weighing her options. Apologize? Defend herself? Wait for the boss to say his piece? Perhaps the third option. She was in enough trouble as it was.

“How many times have I told you not to push the deadline?” Mr. Sullivan hissed, almost barring his yellowish teeth.

Wait, am I supposed to answer that?

“A million times I’ve told you,” he continued. With every word he spoke, the desk between them felt smaller and smaller. Had he always looked so large behind it? “And yet, you give me one of the most important reports, if not the most important report in months with and hour to spare for printing. We had to cut the last two paragraphs because we didn’t have time to look through the whole thing!”

The woman winced. She had hoped only one paragraph would have to be cut. But alas, most of it got through without major changes.

“And now,” Mr. Sullivan raised his voice, “now we got a Porsche in the redaction floor, thanks to your little stunt. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Melinda’s mouth opened, but it suddenly went dry, so she closed it back up. Was she willing to put next month’s rent at risk just for ‘doing the right thing’? Was it worth sacrificing several months of electricity or water for being right? Was she right?

“I didn’t think he’d take it so bad,” she managed to say at last.

“The guy held up a damn crane with his mind,” the aging man deadpanned. “What did you think he was going to do? Throw confetti?”

The woman’s gaze darted to the surface of the desk. It wasn’t until that moment that shame started to invade her. How could she be so thoughtless? Over three-hundred people worked in this newspaper. Her article would reflect on the company, and thus, her coworkers. Someone could have gotten hurt.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sullivan,” she said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

The man snarled a sound of disgust, giving her an exasperated look.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t fire you right now,” he hissed.

A loud thudding resounded from Melinda’s insides. Her heart was drumming hard against her chest. She could feel a drop of sweat trickling down the side of her face, despite the cold air conditioning.

The article broke my career, she concluded.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Tsk.” Mr. Sullivan shook his head. “You really are dense.”

Well that’s uncalled for, Melinda thought, rising her gaze to his once again. His expression still seemed exasperated, but now he was looking outside his office.

“Mr. Sullivan, I—”

“You can’t get fired because you proved your point,” he interrupted. Melinda frowned. “Three years here, and you still can’t put your deduction skills to use under pressure. So, let’s try this again: give me one good reason I shouldn’t fire you this instant.”

It was like a light flicked on in Melinda’s brain. He wasn’t firing her, he was testing her. Why does he have to be so mean about it, though?

“Because,” she started, still hesitant to respond back, but determined to keep her job. “Because if our—my­—allegations were false, the proper response would’ve been to call a press conference denying the claims. Throwing a car through our building dampers his own reputation, and it’s an attempt against freedom of press. It’s a threat against not only us, but anyone who dares talk ill of him.” The woman smirked. “Not very superheroic, if you ask me.”

“Exactly.” Mr. Sullivan slammed his fist against the desk, startling Melinda. “That piece of shit is trying to shut us up. This isn’t like that Cronus guy. That was self-defense. Teleman just made a declaration of war against us and the free press. We can’t back out now. So,” the man slammed his hands together and rose from his chair, “I’m gonna need everything you got from this story. Notes, sounds, transcriptions, anything you can share by today. The earlier the better. We need to write tomorrow’s editorial piece.”

“Yessir!” Melinda blurted, jumping to her feet.

“What are you, a soldier?” Mr. Sullivan chuckled. “Just get to it, Martínez. Go, get!”

“Y-yes, Mr. Sullivan.”

Without needing to be told again, she scampered out of the office and headed straight to her desk. As she approached it, she realized it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Where hers and several others had been there was yellow tape and half of the Porsche she saw from outside.

A shudder went up her spine, as she realized Teleman’s target had not been as random as she initially thought.

---

“It was horrible,” Melinda complained.

Thanks to a certain superhero, two thirds of employees had been relegated to simple tasks that day. For security reasons. This created one of those rare opportunities where the journalist’s group of friends from the Latest News Division got to eat lunch together. As they made the line to order their food, Melinda took the opportunity to answer the constant what-happened-with-Sullivan question.

“You’re blowing it waaay out of proportion,” Kevin, the photographer, muttered as he tinkered with his new phone.

“I thought I was gonna self-combust,” she whined, slumping her head back. “Why does he have to be so mean about it? I was already planning my life as a homeless bum living on storm drains.”

“You know how it is,” Will, another reporter like her, chuckled. “That old man would rather torture you to death than be direct.”

“Who cares, anyway,” Beatriz, a graphic designer, drawled. “You didn’t get fired. That’s what matters.”

“At the cost of my sanity!” Melinda argued. “I’ve never been so scared to lose a job in my life.”

“Eh, you would’ve gotten a new one in a week,” Kevin commented, without looking up from the screen.

“No way,” the reporter in question argued. “Nobody would’ve wanted to hire the woman who made a superhero angry enough to throw a car through a building. My career would’ve been finished.”

“Nah, you’d be fine. Hey, Will,” the photographer suddenly called, raising his phone. “Look pretty for me, will ya?”

“Man, you know I don’ like it when people take pictures of me,” the reporter complained.

“C’mon, I wanna test the resolution on this thing,” Kevin insisted.

“Why me?”

“Hm, you’re right, you can’t smile. Melinda, smile for me.”

“Dude, I’m having a mental breakdown,” the journalist huffed.

“Why?” Kevin whined. “You’re still working. You kept your job. Why are you so upset?”

“Have you been ignoring me this whole time?”

“Not…ignoring,” Kevin shrugged. “Just listened to half of what you said.”

Melinda groaned, but Beatriz waved her hand dismissively.

“Mija, you gotta chill about this whole thing,” she said. “But honestly, Kevin’s right. You’re worrying too much. You kept your job, that’s what matters. Who knows, you may actually get promoted for this.”

“If Teleman doesn’t kill one of us first.”

“Occupational hazard,” Will shrugged, joining the conversation again after ordering. “Who’s next?”

Melinda offered herself and stepped up to order her lunch.

“Will that be all?” the young woman asked, and the reporter agreed. “That will be twelve-fifteen.”

“Here,” she said, handing her credit card.

“You buy your morning coffee here too, don’t you?” the cashier suddenly said, as she made the transaction.

“Closest good coffee to work,” Melinda responded automatically, her mind still wandering back to that morning.

“You work nearby?” the young, blonde woman asked as she took her time ripping the receipt from the card reader.

“Yeah,” Melinda shrugged, taking the piece of paper. “Thank you!”

She turned around to her friends, who were all giving her a look of incredulity.

“What?”

The other three looked at each other, as if debating who would be the one to speak up.

“Imma look for a table,” Will pipped up, quickly deserting the group.

Melinda frowned, and stared at the other two, who now looked defeated. With a shrug, they turned to the cashier and made their orders, while the reporter rolled her eyes and waited for hers and Will’s food. After a few minutes, all four sat at a round table with their meals.

“Is anybody gonna say it?” Beatriz said.

“Say what?” Melinda frowned.

“For a journalist, you can be very unobservant,” Will muttered loud enough for the rest to hear.

“Not unobservant,” Kevin chimed in. “Just oblivious to the language of love.”

“Here we go again,” Melinda sighed. “You guys really think I’m thinking about romance when a Porsche destroyed my desk?”

At last, Kevin’s eyes were pried away from his phone. Will and Beatriz followed suit.

“I thought it was random,” Beatriz said. Kevin and Will exchanged stares, while Melinda shook her head.

“I don’t think it was,” Melinda said, as she started poking around her salad. “My desk wasn’t the only one next to a window, yet it was the only one made into pieces. If I had gotten to work earlier, who knows what would’ve happened to me.”

As she bit into a cherry tomato, she could feel the awkward silence shared between the other three people on the table. In all honesty, Melinda felt proud of finally getting through to them on the seriousness of the matter. Although she appreciated them trying to cheer her up and distract her, talking about it felt like the thing she truly needed at that moment.

“But he didn’t get you,” Will cut through the silence. “And that’s what matters. That you’re safe and alive. And I know the newspaper will work hard to keep it that way. Even tactless Sullivan. He doesn’t show it, but he cares about us.”

“He actually has a point,” Kevin said, eyes back on his phone. “Sullivan just sucks at showing other emotions other than uncaffeinated-angry.”

“Regardless,” Beatriz jumped in, “in any case, we’re here for you. And if you don’t feel safe in your apartment, you know abuela has no problem with you staying over.”

“Thanks, Bea,” Melinda said.

“So how’s this,” Kevin said, now raising his phone, “in case anyone of us gets fired, or murdered by a harassing superhero, we’ll take a selfie to remember the good times. Before everything turns to shit.”

“Oh yeah, that way we have a picture to mark exes on our faces as we die one by one” Will deadpanned.

“Psh, we’d all be dead in a horror movie,” Beatriz stated, waving a hand.

“Guys, I’m trynna make a cute moment, don’t ruin it for me.”

“Fine,” the reporter rolled his eyes good naturedly.

Without needing anymore prompting, the group moved their chairs and huddled together in the hopes of fitting in the frame. Kevin extended his arm, with the front camera of his phone activated for a selfie.

After taking the photo and replacing their seats, Kevin spoke up.

“By the way, the cashier’s name is Katie—”

“Oh my God, stop!”

---

The sun had almost completely set when Melinda walked by the sidewalk leading to her apartment building. It had been a long and exhausting day, despite spending most of it in the office. She hadn’t realized how emotionally draining being the targeted reporter could be.

But she chose this path. And she was sticking to it, as long as she had the support of her boss and the company.

She started going up the steps to the front door of the building, when she couldn’t help but feel watched. Melinda stopped mid-step. Her arms swung as she turned on her heels, hand holding tight to the pepper spray on her keychain. Her eyes shifted from side to side, looking for whatever was giving her that gut feeling.

Yet she saw nothing. Slowly, she lowered her arms back to the sides, and started back to the entrance of the building. She carefully started unlocking the door.

SMACK

Melinda’s face slammed against the iron door, and a hand pressed against the back of her neck kept her pressed to it. She tried pushing back, but whoever was attacking grabbed her flailing hands and held them tight.

“You’re Melinda Martínez, aren’t you?” a voice whispered into her ear, sending a chill down her spine.

“Who wants to know?” she dared quip.

There was a pause. Ever so slowly, Melinda’s feet started leaving the ground, yet she was not being pushed up from her neck. In fact, she felt more like she was…

Floating.

Teleman.

“I guess you could say I’m somewhat of a critic of your work.”

“H-Hey, listen man,” Melinda started desperately, “I was just doing my job.”

“Isn’t your job reporting on both sides?”

“You’re a hard source to find!” she pleaded. “I tried, really. But even with your version, I still had to write what was published. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to take you down or anything, it’s just my job.”

“Your job sounds very… convenient for me.”

Melinda frowned. Was he being sarcastic? Was he threatening her? Was he going to kill her? Or worse…

“I was wondering how long it would take for the information to get out,” he continued, the air of his breath threatening her neck. “It took, what, five months?”

“Victims of sexual assault are not usually very talkative when they know the other person has more power,” Melinda dared shoot back.

“You people have the strangest rules. Perhaps next time I should be a little more explicit.”

“We people?” Melinda breathed. “What the hell are you even talking about? You sound like…” she swallowed. “Like you wanted to get caught.”

“My business is none of yours,” Teleman hissed. “But I have to say, I’m starting to enjoy some of the perks of this job.”

“I thought you were a superhero. One of the good guys,” she said quietly.

“I am,” he whispered back. “Just like one of those who likes to prance around using names of old Greek gods.”

With those last words, Melinda was suddenly dropped to the ground. The jolt of it made her stumble to her side and collapse against the wall. She turned just in time to see a blur of blue shoot up into the sky.

With her heart still running at a hundred miles, Melinda unlocked the door and ran all the way up the stairs to the third floor. Once in front of her apartment, she hastened to unlock it, almost dropping her keys.

After opening it, Melinda jumped into her living room and closed both locks on her door. At last, she slammed her back to it, panting from the run.

Melinda clapped a hand on her mouth, just as tears started spilling out. She knew being a journalist had the potential to be dangerous. She had heard stories of reporters disappearing in Central America and seen videos of others being decapitated by terrorists on the other side of the world. But in a city, the job dangers were reduced to rude politicians and snobby CEOs.

This was not supposed to happen to her. Much less by someone who was supposed to protect them. Covering superheroes was supposed to be fun, every journalist’s dream.

And yet, as she slid to the ground silently sobbing, speaking the truth on superheroes was starting to feel more like a nightmare.

[thelyonsempire]

Once a Single Mom with a Dream, Taraji P. Henson is Now a Hollywood Headliner

Want to know what it feels like for a woman to be a commanding presence in a man’s world? Just ask Taraji P. Henson, who might be the greatest motivational speaker we ladies have at the moment. 

“I feel like a boss bitch,” she says, flashing her megawatt grin. “I’m grabbing my nuts, like, ‘Yeah!’ ”

Could we consider this an apt metaphor for the current push-pull of power dynamics? Perhaps. As Henson knows, there’s no time to mince words anymore. From the #MeToo movement to the midterm elections, we’ve seen what happens when women stake their claim. Henson, a single mother from Washington, D.C., who has worked in the industry for over 20 years, is among those finally getting their due — and she’s not afraid to say it.

Her latest film, What Men Want, explicitly explores these themes. Out in February, it flips the script from the Nancy Meyers-directed What Women Want (2000), which starred Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt. Henson plays Ali Davis, a cocky (for lack of a better term) sports agent. After getting passed over for a big promotion, she visits a psychic (the singer Erykah Badu) who provides her with a special tea that allows her to hear men’s thoughts.

Henson stars and also serves as an executive producer. It’s the first time the 48-year-old actress — who has nailed every dramatic role that has come her way — is getting a chance to flex her musical-theater-trained muscles as the lead in a full-fledged comedy. And Henson is clearly in her element, engaging in the kind of “I’ll do anything for laughs” physical antics emblematic of her heroes Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball.

“I’ve always been the funny girl,” Henson says emphatically. “Not that I was pigeonholed. They were all great dramatic roles, but I’ve been dying. I just felt so honored and grateful to get a comedy where I could let it all hang out. My best friend was like, ‘Lord, they don’t know what they have unleashed.’ ”  

“Taraji is old-school funny,” says someone who would know, her What Men Want co-star Tracy Morgan. “She is willing to take a pie to the face or stuff a bunch of candy in her mouth to get a laugh. She cuts the monster but doesn’t cut too deep because she knows we need the monster comedy.”

This past November Henson also voiced the animated character Yesss (which Henson pronounces as “Yesssssss” in her sweet drawl) in Ralph Breaks the Internet, Disney’s big-budget sequel to Wreck-It Ralph, which grossed over $400 million worldwide. It was another chance for her to show off her comedic chops, but this time for the kids. And after years of struggling to make it in Hollywood, she’s acutely aware of how doing a family film can help her bank account.

“You know, that’s [audiences buying] four tickets instead of two,” Henson says. “That’s generally going to be the largest-grossing film in anyone’s repertoire.”

To attend InStyle’s shoot, she took a 24-hour break from the Chicago set of Empire and her most significant character to date, the cutting and campy Cookie Lyon. Henson admits that the silver-tongued ex-con and matriarch of the Lyon family was the one who really put her on the Hollywood map. Despite all her successes — in the Oscar-nominated films Hidden Figures and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button — Henson has never had a movie studio bring her overseas to do press. But Cookie has.

“Hollywood executives would tell me that I don’t have fans all the way over there,” Henson says, shaking her head. “I said, ‘You’re lying because they can reach me any time. I’m a finger tap away, and they let me know every day.’ ” And while the international box office plays a big role in getting lead parts in feature films, it was Cookie who let Henson know she was appreciated. “Then we go to Paris [to promote Empire], and it’s standing room only in a room with 1,500 seats. I cried. If you believe what people tell you … you can’t let people tell you shit.”

Henson’s strong sense of self comes from her parents. She was an only child until she was 17 (her half sister, April, now works as her “a-sister-ant”). Her father, Boris, was a Vietnam War vet who battled PTSD and alcoholism throughout her childhood. Despite his mood swings, Henson says, he instilled in her a no-fear attitude that has stuck with her to this day. From her mother, Bernice, she inherited her endless drive and passion.

“I was like the Punky Brewster of the hood,” Henson says with a laugh. “I was a well-rounded kid, but I could also scrap if necessary. But I wasn’t that hard. I still had Strawberry Shortcake wallpaper in my room, and my friend Tracie and I were doing Shakespeare in the Park … and we were in the f—ing hood.”

Though it was clear from an early age that Henson was a natural-born performer, she spent her nascent college years attempting to follow in her father’s footsteps by studying engineering at North Carolina A&T State University. With her colorful outfits and spirited attitude, she earned the on-campus nickname Hollywood, yet it still took failing math classes for her to realize the sciences were not where she belonged. When she called Boris to tell him, he was not surprised.

“Good,” he said. “Get your ass back up to D.C. and enroll in Howard’s drama department. Do what you’re supposed to be doing.”

While attending Howard University, Henson became pregnant with her son, Marcell. After graduation the single mom and her baby boy moved to Los Angeles with $700 borrowed from family and friends so she could pursue her dreams. Between casting calls, there were stints as a substitute teacher for kids with special needs. Eventually she landed an agent, and guest spots on network television shows soon followed. But it was her roles in films such as Baby Boy and Hustle & Flow that really made Hollywood take notice.

Now that she’s got the mic, Henson is putting it to good use, choosing impactful projects like this spring’s The Best of Enemies, about civil-rights activist Ann Atwater and her unlikely friendship with C.P. Ellis (portrayed by Sam Rockwell), a former member of the Ku Klux Klan. She is also starring in and producing a movie about Emmett Till, the teenager who was lynched for allegedly whistling at a white woman in Mississippi in 1955.

“I don’t care if you’re young or old or what color you are, art is so powerful,” she says on the topic of representation. “You can show things to people you’ve never met and you broaden horizons. I don’t take for granted what I have, and I try to use it in any way I can, positively.”

The fact that Hollywood continues to preach about the importance of diversity but then casts predominately white males in lead roles is not lost on the actress. “Here’s the deal: When you talk about money, don’t you want to make money? I want every walk of life [in my films]. If I could put an alien in, I would. I want their money too. Come on, it’s what the world looks like. That’s what people want to see, representation. That’s all. You can make money doing it. It’s a no-brainer.”

She also recently established the Boris Lawrence Henson Foundation (named after her beloved father), which encourages African-Americans with mental-health issues to seek the help they need. “It was born out of necessity,” she says. “You know, traumatic stuff happened to me and my son. [Her ex-boyfriend, Marcell’s father, was murdered in 2003.] You can’t just pray it away. I don’t care how strong you are. It gets to you, and if you don’t deal with it, it manifests itself in ways you don’t even know.

“My white friends have standing appointments with their therapists,” Henson continues. “I was like, ‘Why aren’t we doing that?’ In our culture, it’s taboo.” The first people to sign on? Her male friends from the industry, all of whom wrote checks on the spot. “The black men stepped up. Snoop Dogg, Xzibit, Tracy Morgan, Chance the Rapper all stepped up. I called, they answered. Snoop told me, ‘Baby girl, that’s important. What you’re doing is important.’ Tyrese said, ‘You’re making it cool to seek help.’ ”  

Another supportive figure is her fiancé, former NFL cornerback (and Super Bowl XLI winner) Kelvin Hayden. The two were quietly dating for three years before Hayden proposed last Mother’s Day. They are planning to wed this summer in a private, low-key affair, and though her designer friends are offering to make her a dress, Henson is opting for the most efficient route.

“I’m not going to go through 10,000 dresses,” she says. “How does it fit? How do I feel? Does it complement me well? Let’s just go with this one. I know what looks good on me. I’m not going to spend 10 hours on a fitting. I hate that.”

The wedding itself will probably take place in July, once Henson figures out if Empire is going to be picked up for a sixth season. Fortunately, it is filmed in Chicago, where she and Hayden reside with Marcell — now 24 and an aspiring rapper and music producer — and their miniature French bulldog, K-Ball, which was Hayden’s nickname when he played in the NFL.

Their life is a healthy one. Hayden runs his own gym, and she’s always cooking new vegan treats for her tribe. She made the jump to veganism after suffering massive stomach pains while filming The Best of Enemies this past summer. “It took a doctor in Macon, Ga., to say, ‘If you don’t change what you’re doing, you’re going to get stomach cancer.’ I said, ‘Say no more.’ So I switched everything up out of necessity. I want to live. Thank God, because I feel so much better.”

Now that she’s in love, at the top of her game, and clearly adored by the world at large, Henson is ready to expand her repertoire even further. “The older I get, I want to work smarter, not harder,” she says. She’ll answer that superhero hotline if it rings — “DC, Marvel, you all can call me!” — but for now she’s content being the funny girl.

“I want to show you this,” she says, grabbing her phone to play a video that was sent to her by What Men Want director Adam Shankman. It’s footage from an early screening, and the audience is roaring with laughter.

Henson admits to having goose bumps as she cradles the device like a proud mama: “Listen to them cackling!”

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2018, Part I

I’ll associate my moviegoing this year with two things: subscription models and superhero films. Realizing that I was the target audience, I signed up for Moviepass in March, then canceled just before they started extorting people in July. (I’ll remember you all semi-fondly, conniving alarmists in the Moviepass Reddit thread.) Thanks to Moviepass, I took full advantage of my free time over the summer, and I found some nice surprises that I wouldn’t have checked out otherwise. From there I joined AMC A-List, which is the rare corporate service that I cannot complain about in any way. Moviepass always felt like some kind of drug deal, whereas A-List is as easy and inviting an experience as possible. I get to seek out Dolby, IMAX, or 3-D showings instead of getting locked out of them, and the electronic ticketing helps with my last-minute availability. (I’ve mastered the art of lovingly putting my daughter to bed, only to desert her and my wife five minutes later. “You know, there’s an 8:10 showing of The Predator, which means 8:30 after previews...”) My overall viewing was up 11% this year, which I have to attribute to these subscriptions. Perhaps I saw too much though. After a self-righteous five-year ban on superhero movies, I caught up in 2019 like the madman completist that I am. On the plus side, I enjoyed Wonder Woman and Guardians of the Galaxy, and I vaguely feel more connected with the culture-at-large. But I could have been more selective. The diligence required to watch X-Men: Apocalypse late on a Thursday night took away from, say, my Orson Welles project or...reading books. To get some of the business out of the way, I haven’t seen Burning, Shoplifters, Destroyer, Cold War, The Sisters Brothers, Tomb Raider, The Wife, or The House That Jack Built. Not all of us get screeners or care about seeing The Wife.  Mostly for argument purposes, I list everything I saw and divide the movies into the categories of Garbage, Admirable Failures, Endearing Curiosities with Big Flaws, Pretty Good Movies, Good Movies, Great Movies, and Instant Classics. Hey, speaking of superheroes:  GARBAGE

123. Venom (Ruben Fleischer)- Venom was first announced as an R-rated film until it was neutered into PG-13 at some point in the development road. That was the right choice because this is a movie, in all of its broad, careless storytelling, for children. "So he's going to get married to her but then he looks at her email and then he interviews the guy and he gets fired so then she leaves him and he drinks now?" This is a dummy's version of what a journalist is or what a scientist is, and it never shades into more subtlety than exactly what is on the expected surface. I guess that Tom Hardy gets to jump into a lobster tank if that floats your boat, but the story is stuck on fast-forward for the whole movie, never relenting to develop character or do anything other than communicate information that we don't really need.

Venom is almost--almost--interesting as a new branch in the superhero economy. Why shouldn't Tom Hardy and National Treasure Michelle Williams trade the equity they've built for caring about their work into this trash? I don't begrudge them that for a second. I hope they make more money for the sloppy sequels. 122. The Equalizer 2 (Antoine Fuqua)- The first Equalizer was flat and pointlessly long with pedantic dialogue too, but at least it had the Home Depot sequence. This one makes very basic stuff incoherent and dawdles all the way to the end. Your boy is now an expert hacker too? I guess it's too late for Fuqua to start caring about scripts.

121. Mandy (Panos Cosmatos)- I need somebody to explain to me why, dramatically, this is good without something like, "It's so metal! What a midnight movie! Chainsaw fight lol!" If you want to talk about the visuals that are stylized within an inch of reality, then I'll listen. But there's nothing to hold onto dramatically. I think I've developed an overall irritation with revenge films, but this filthy dirge of a movie felt empty and endless by any standard. 120. Fifty Shades Freed (James Foley)- Its intentions are too guileless to upset me, but Fifty Shades Freed uses up the goodwill I sort of had for the first two by tugging the viewer relentlessly through conflict that always seems temporary. Part of the fun has always been how bizarre basic human interactions seem in this universe. (Has anyone ever returned from a vacation to be surprise-promoted?) But this entry expects way too much from its viewer's loyalty. 119. On Chesil Beach (Dominic Cooke)- There's supposed to be a disconnect to the behavior of the couple in On Chesil Beach, a movie that asks us to harken back to a time when newlyweds were so sexually innocent that they had trouble figuring out how to consummate a marriage. Their fumbling seems foreign to us, which is the point. But what's the excuse for none of the behavior in the movie ringing true to any human experience?

I'm talking about Florence refusing to tell her string quartet that she's engaged because she thinks they'll assume that her marriage will break up the group even though she's sure that it won't. I'm talking about her father, who feels the need to humiliate his son-in-law in tennis because that would prove that he's dominant over the boy in some way that being his employer does not already prove. I'm talking about a plot that literally would not exist if the characters had just engaged in one conversation that it seems like they would have had in the flashbacks, which frame them as a kind of open, reasonably affectionate, easy-going couple. But by all means, McEwan, change that whenever it suits you. 118. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (J.A. Bayona)- I reject the whole premise of this deliberate lowering of stakes that never rises above obligation. To paraphrase a Griffin Newman joke, it makes Jurassic Park 4 look like Jurassic Park 1.

While we're here though: Can I have a movie about the guy who compiled the guest list for the dino auction? I want to see a guy looking at a spreadsheet--or is it an Access file?--and getting to, like, Mark Cuban and weighing the options: "He probably has the $27 million to spare on weaponized recombinant DNA. He would definitely appreciate the wow factor of having his own Indoraptor. But is he more of a neutral evil or a chaotic evil? I guess I'll reserve a seat for him and send the invitation. If he says no, then he says no. Okay, we're still in the C's..."

117. Tag (Jeff Tomsic)- Tag is going to show up on a lot of "worst movies to ever win an Oscar" lists when Jeremy Renner wins an Oscar for it. 116. A-X-L (Oliver Daly)- This is a melodramatic movie about a weaponized robotic dog and the dirtbike kid who befriends it. Nothing wrong with that; a ten-year-old boy might like it, and there aren't enough movies specifically for that audience. But what's weird is how nonchalant the main character is about the whole thing. He immediately starts training this one-of-a-kind "war dog" android and imprints it with his DNA like this is a regular Tuesday. It's one of many things that is just kind of off in this picture.

This being a cheap genre film, you do get treated to those L.A. locations that have been around the block. I think the nondescript complex that houses Craine Industries is also the one from Sneakers and The Lawnmower Man. You know, Craine Industries, the company that is working on a $70 million prototype for the military but, because this is a cheap genre film, seems to have two employees.

I do think there's an interesting movie to be made about motocross. The movie kind of works when it's just about an underdog father and son fixing bikes, before it gets into all of the robot stuff. ADMIRABLE FAILURES

115. The Little Stranger (Lenny Abrahamson)- Dr. Faraday: "Wanna marry me?" Caroline: "Maybe. Do you actually love me?" Dr. Faraday: "Probably not." Caroline: "Hmm, I think I would marry you only as an excuse to go to London to get away from my dying mother and this crumbling house that probably has a ghost." Dr. Faraday: "Oh. Well, glad we're discussing it now because I want to marry you specifically to give me a reason to stay in this crumbling house that probably has a ghost. I'm drawn to it for some reason." Caroline: "Is it because you grew up poor?" Dr. Faraday: "Yes. All dry, cold British stuff ultimately comes down to that.

114. Damsel (David Zellner and Nathan Zellner)- Had I done my research, I wouldn't have watched this Zellner Brothers follow-up to Kumiko the Treasure Hunter, one of my least favorite films of that year. Like that movie, Damsel is a story of two halves, punctuated by a shocking moment that happens halfway through. Unfortunately nothing interesting happens before, and nothing interesting happens after. 113. Suspiria (Luca Guadignino)- This is a movie about duality that gets extended. English, German, and just a sprinkle of French. Six parts and an epilogue. A dual role (and a bit part). Personalities that clash until one pulls ahead. There are ideas here. But, especially considering I don't like the original Suspiria, I didn't find much to hold onto as a visceral experience. It's a long, foreboding sit. Guadagnino knows how to end his movies, but he still doesn't have much to say for the long middle parts. Shout-out to Amazon; I hope that, in some circuitous way, betting on maximalist Italians helps them to sell paper towels or whatever.

112. Early Man (Nick Park)- I still love the Aardman aesthetic, but this material was thin. It's too juvenile for adults and too adult for juveniles. 111. Beirut (Brad Anderson)- The screenplay takes an hour to set up what should have taken twenty minutes. Some of that time is dedicated to developing Hamm's burnt-out alcoholic wheeler-dealer, but he's a character we've seen a hundred times before anyway. Some shorthand would have done some good. Once the plot gets going, it's serviceable, but I was bored by that point. Pike and Hamm need to fire their managers. 110. Upgrade (Leigh Whannell)- I'll admit that I owed the film more attention than I gave it since I was nodding off the whole time, but nothing in the gloomy programmer interested me enough to want to go back.

109. Red Sparrow (Francis Lawrence)- Good as a steamy blank check provocation from the director and star--not much else. I'm sure people will take down the easy target of Jen Larry's Russian accent, but they're ignoring just how much she tries in something like this. She is a gargantuan Movie Star who commands the screen, and a lot of that presence comes from the commitment of, say, learning how to ballet dance for what must have been months. She hasn't slept through a performance yet.

I didn't think this endless movie made much sense, especially near its conclusion. Perhaps it's my personal distaste for the way that spy movies introduce major plot points without so much as a music sting to guide you. As soon as anyone says the term "double agent," my brain turns off.

108. Hot Summer Nights (Elijah Bynum)- If you want to direct a music video, just direct a music video. I like all of the actors in this, but the filmmaker has nothing to say. 107. The First Purge (Gerard McMurray)- Even James DeMonaco seems to be admitting that the bloom is off the rose a bit, since he only wrote this entry in the franchise--and his direction is missed in the action scenes. Just enough of the political subtext remains, (The New Founding Fathers get funding from the NRA, and a character uses "pussy-grabbing" as an insult. Thankfully, a Black church getting shot up by men with Iron Cross flags happens off-screen.)

But there are more characters I didn't care about than characters I did care about. Since its prequel setting doesn't reveal much about the world that we didn't already know, the film needed to do a bit more with the survive-the-night scenario that we already saw in the second film.

106. Vox Lux (Brady Corbet)- A movie that, up to and including the last minute, keeps promising something better than it actually is. Everyone here is making...choices… 105. Madeline’s Madeline (Josephine Decker)- I'm glad David Ehrlich liked this as much as he did. There are some intriguing ideas, most notably the suggestion that a mentally unstable person would be better suited for acting than a healthy person. What a debut for Helena Howard as well. But for it to add up to something by the end, I think I needed it to have more dramatic structure--the sort of fall of the Molly Parker character feels invented and insincere--or go all the way into experiment. 104. Shirkers (Sandi Tan)- One of those "you won't believe what happens next" documentaries that positions itself as an example of truth being stranger than fiction. But removed from a festival context, does it ever rise above its logline? Is it really even that odd?

[a1d6i]

Can’t Breathe

On this series, we are going to discuss a much more pressing problem, the one that directly damages us, infiltrates our relationships, mortifies our values and crushes our mindset. It/He/She/They are called “Toxins”. Yup, you read it right, because contaminants can take in both gas and solid forms and could murder you physically and mentally. In this very serious series, we are going to answer these three major questions, Who/What are these toxins? Am I toxic? How can I breathe in freely, in my stressful, toxic working environment? Don’t worry; we’ll get to the answers.

Did you know that an estimate of 4.6 million people die annually because of air pollution. It is sure enough that the pollution is brought about by the mass accumulation of garbage, which both contains and releases very harmful toxins, which flies freely above us and corrupt both our atmosphere and good health. I may not be a resident World Health Organization researcher, but I’ll confidently say that 7.6 billion individuals is still wrestling daily with their toxic schedules, toxic classmate or workmate, toxic boss, or even a total stranger you walked past by the other day, who roughly pushed past by you, without even bothering to apologize. YEAH, I feel you, regardless of the effort you put on concealing all your disappointments by trying to put on a very big and convincing smile to attract positivity and good people and moments, there will always be THIS, THIS ONE mood terminator and party crasher that would directly or indirectly ruin your day. Remember, even if that awful scheme was intentionally designed or not to make others see that leashed beast inside, it is still you who is in charge, holding that wheel, your emotions, decisions and response.  But how? How? HOW could I get rid of that person or thing that never fails to bother and stop me from doing what is required of me? Well, I’ll help you through in the most simple, practical and decent ways possible.

All people, things and events are good, don’t forget that. The expression, “toxic” serves as an adjective to the persona we are talking about. Let us clear thoughts up; we despise the actions or attitude of the person, not him or her. We dislike the object not because of its appearance, but probably of its current lack of significance. We hate attending purposive events or enthusiastically sign in to demanding schedules, not because it provides no whatsoever substance or benefit at all, but maybe because at the moment, the instance’s time slot does not fit on our perfectly arranged timetable or our habits and routines mismatch the supposedly perfect work hours. The truth is, we can’t deal with all circumstances and expect them to swiftly turn out in our favor, but at least we could try to make things more soothing to us, not to mention attempting to lessen the stressfulness they bring.

1.    Dealing with Toxic People (Special Mention: Feeling Class Clown Classmate or Supremely Overconfident Officemate)

 Once in our years in school or working career, we surely have had encountered this particular classmate who breaks up the serious silence during the lecture and starts cracking up a joke that isn’t to the littlest extent, even funny, that it makes the hairs on the back of your head stand up and the blood in your bloody boil a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, or maybe that officemate who talks out loud and boasts around his/her Best Employee of the Week award, while you are sitting on your office cubicle trying to focus on the pile of papers that seem to never lessen, and not to mention, the worst part is that he/she would walk past by every co-worker’s booth and give a very uninteresting narrative on how he/she got a pay raise or that gleaming award, and also giving you tips on how to earn one yourself. Really? Honestly, he/she just won the award once, and now he/she feels like the office superhero? You may probably be thinking, “Yeah, enjoy the moment, but as soon as this week or month ends, I’ll get that salary increase, promotion or award, I am too hardworking, to get ignored!” Anger and Irritation are natural feelings of a human being, if you don’t express these the most conservative way you can, you may instantly die of failing to release every bad feeling or thought you have in store. But also remember that we must be careful of the things we would say to others, because intentionally or not, you may be hurting and down casting the person you are talking to, and your angry outburst is never an excuse for all the mindless deeds and words that you might say and do.

 Envy, Hatred and an Overdose of Self-Confidence are the sensations hell wants you to feel when you encounter a toxic person, who keeps nagging you directly or indirectly, or has succeeded in reaching something that you haven’t. Watch yourself! You avoid these individuals not because you want to be like them, but because you don’t want to emulate their actions. I personally don’t see toxic people as hindrances, but as disturbances. Hindrances are big things which block your way to achievement and it is a requirement for you to remove this yourself, it’s like getting rid of a large boulder in the middle of the smooth road, which prevents your car from passing the other side.  Disturbances are small things that block you from accomplishing, it is widespread, and there is nothing you can do about it. It is like driving through a rocky road or encountering a pebble in the middle of the road, and in both of these situations, you do not need to get off the car or go down to that stone’s level, you just have to swerve away from it or simply kick it aside.

There is NOTHING you could do to get rid of a toxic person; there are reasons why he/she is like that, or you’ll harshly say, it’s in his/her DNA. It would be improbable for you to get off your chosen and favoured track just because of that disturbance, but if you think you could still handle, just IGNORE them, and keep performing. You’ll see, once you start diverting your attention to worthwhile activities, instead of wasting your time and vocabulary judging that toxic person and plotting mischievous tricks to get him/her expelled or fired, things will later turn out to be much clearer.

  2.    Dealing with Toxic Schedules (Seriously, I’ll wake up that early, and study or work for this long?)

 Trust me, studying or working during unwanted time periods would make your head ache much worse than dealing with toxic people. Imagine, waking up at 5 in the morning to get ready for your 8 am call time, then work ends at around 5 or 6 pm, plus you have to travel home from work or school, I think I may not have pointed out, the traffic and the line to the commute vehicle. We surely have wondered why the school or workplace expected the students or workers to sign in that early or even work on a Saturday, and end quite lately. Truthfully, I, myself, tried to make a school schedule, which matches my favorite subjects with my most productive days and hours, while stacking the boring subjects on Saturday. Proudly, it didn’t work, I found it hard, I realized that putting all the fun in one area turns out to be pretty uninteresting, and piling up the least favoured subjects on the other, also turned to be much worse than assumed. The difference between toxic people and so called toxic schedules is that we could escape from the reach of people, but never the grapple of inescapable schedules. Inescapable? Yes! It sounds scary, but at least it is adjustable. Manageable in a way that you could time your sleep and do your leisure earlier when you are needed in the morning and time other events later if you are on a night shift. Our Resilience towards time is tested every time we wake up and suit up for work and study and whenever we survive the day’s challenges. It must be our goal to always catch up with everyday demands and try to lessen our stubbornness as best as we can.

 3.    Dealing with the Boss (So, I am required to work this hard, plus I have to deal with that monster? Honestly I wonder why no one demands a salary increase, or had? It’s ok. I’m fine!)

I know that you might be thinking why your boss was not talked about in the category of workmates, and instead categorized differently. Is it because he/she has a higher ranking than us, special, or I know, classified as an alien, YES! Definitely he/she is a rude Martian! But I hate to break it to you, these fun assumptions are all wrong. I characterized the “Boss” differently, because the title represents, “Superiority”.  Yes, it’s true that all of us, even me, supremely desire to be the boss of our actions, captain of our time and act as supervisor to other people, but then and again, it mostly never happens all at once. We find some superiors, ill tempered, impolite, demanding, terrifying and unfair, in short, we equate boss to all things negative. But why do some see high ranking officials as a beast? Ah! because it’s in their nature, an attitude that must be absorbed when they sit on the high chair! Quite right, quite incorrect. If I declare you right now as boss of an office, a department or even a multimillion dollar company, would you take the position? Most may reply, “Sure I would take it; it’s the best offer I have ever got!” Let’s see, I assure you that not a day would pass without you demanding the best of results from the people who work for you, shouting to the top of your lungs because you need to chase the company’s deadline or breaking down because of the massive calls you receive per hour. Then you’ll be like, “Oh, so that is the reason behind that bad hair day or frowning face every time I walk across his/her office.” In defense of the bosses, they are the reasons why you are working happily and earning continually in your work and they demand, because they know you could do more on what you just had presented. I am not really sure if your boss is just putting on his/her work face on, to look fierce and strong, or if the attitude that he/she is showing is really genuine, but it may be considered true that all his/her actions are for the best of your team.

If you still don’t believe me, trust that with your continuous hard work, patience and dedication, you’ll soon achieve that “BOSS” title. Nothing comes easy; you never know the hardships that he/she endured before being the master of the pack. Keep grinding.  

4.    Dealing with Toxic Stranger (Excuse me, do you mind? I see he/she doesn’t. All right! After a bad day, this happens. Don’t worry! I can still manage.  But I think I can manage a text or call at least.)

The toxic stranger represents the unexpected and uncalculated situations which disturb us in whatever we are doing. It may be a shocking emergency, the sudden appearance of an arch enemy or an upturn of supposedly happy events, whatever it is; that holds you back from fulfilment, is considered as a toxin. Unlike your classmate or workmate that is predictable and anytime ignore, strangers are unpredictable, stealthy and means to ruin you from head to toe. That is why it is necessary that we should continually raise our guards and not let anything drive us away from our destination. More about this topic would be intensely talked about in this series.

Nest time, we are going to examine your Toxicity Level, determine whether you are a toxin or not to others and convert that feeling of toxicity to a much cleaner, breathable air of freshness.

[i-just-like-commenting]

Themes in Luke Cage s2: The Quest for Control

What separates the good Netflix MCU seasons from the weaker ones are how well integrated their themes are into the setup of the story. Daredevil‘s first season did it well with its exploration of the thin lines between heroes and villains, the difficulty of choosing what is good. The first season of Luke Cage focused heavily on the idea of not being able to go backwards, only forwards. The first season Jessica Jones and even the deeply-flawed Punisher tried to tackle issues like sexually assault, survivor’s guilt, and PTSD. But none of them ever quite reached up to the level of that first season of Daredevil.

Then along came this season and I’ve got more themes than I can wrap my head around. I’ve only watched it through once, so take this as a preliminary digestion of what I saw and feel free to add your thoughts and nuances to my arguments.

I’m going to start with the theme that is central to Luke’s character arc for this season: the quest for control, and particularly the idea that this quest is futile. This idea that one can achieve omnipotence is the hubris of classic tragedy, and make no mistake that this season is a tragedy.

Luke’s journey is probably going to be the most controversial element of this season. I get this, to a certain degree. Sometimes you want your heroes to be paragons or to triumph over adversity. Sometimes you want them to skirt the dark side. It’s certainly best if you can have a mix of both, but there aren’t many black superheroes out there. It’s easy for me, as a white woman, to appreciate Luke’s struggle with the dark side this season because I have, at this point, plenty of representation of white women both noble and messed up available for me in media. If that is not what you want right now, I respect that. That same issue is why, as a person with a mental illness, I dropped the second season of Legion once I started seeing where it was going (though rest assured, Luke doesn’t do anything nearly as awful as what David does by the end of that show).

Luke throughout the first season was a very reactive character, partly because his story didn’t actually begin that season. It began in the first season of Jessica Jones, where Luke is a very active character, actively hunting down his wife’s killers. And what does he get for it? Well, he finds out that a woman he cared for was involved in Reva’s death and had been lying to him the whole time, and then he gets his mind controlled by a telepathic supervillain who tries to force him to kill Jessica just like she was forced to kill his wife, and he is only stopped by a shotgun blast straight to his head that nearly does him in.

It is thus perhaps understandable that Luke Cage didn’t want to be a hero anymore and was trying to live a quiet life. His arc for the first season was realizing he loved Harlem too much to do that. In the meantime, though, he was a highly reactive character. This is not always a bad thing for superheroes; go too far in the other direction of actively hunting down bad guys and you get Frank Castle. It did mean that the villains drove most of the plot rather than Luke himself. (spoilers follow...)

In the second season, motivated I believe by being so out of his depth with the Hand in The Defenders and seeing Misty lose an arm, Luke tries to take back control of his life. The problem with that no one is ever really in complete control of their lives, and in trying to get total control, Luke winds up becoming more controlled than ever.

We open with Luke attempting to hunt down every stash house selling heroin with his name on it – not because this drug is particularly more lethal than any other, but because it is using his name without his permission. This focus on controlling his image is one that hounds Luke throughout the season. He’s reluctant to sign promotional deals not so much because he doesn’t want to make money, but rather because he doesn’t want to be “bought.” He doesn’t want Nike or whoever to have any control over him. He wants to be his own man.

Yet thanks to not copyrighting an app early on, he is easily found by almost anyone, most of them armed with cameras. While Luke is sometimes able to promote himself – his “Yo, I’m Luke Cage” speech with all its chest-thumping and dabbing being the most prominent – it also means that when Bushmaster wipes him out, the video goes viral, and is sold without his permission to ESPN, leaving the narrative entirely out of Luke’s hands.

Unable to have control of his public life as a hero of Harlem, Luke shifts his focus to control of his personal life. He refuses his father’s efforts to reach out to him, and when Claire pushes for them to reconcile he dismisses her. When Claire questions his excessive force with Cockroach, he accuses her of “castrating” him. Given that Luke doesn’t much demonstrate many other signs of toxic masculinity, I think this hyperbole has less to do with her “unmanning” him and more to do with taming him, making him docile, under someone else’s control. While I firmly believe Luke was never in any risk of hurting Claire, he does get angry enough to break her wall, losing control of himself and losing her. Once again the quest for control backfires on him.

Even the fan-service-y cameo episode with Danny Rand serves toward this theme of need for control, as Luke works on self-control of his anger through Danny’s advice. To a certain degree this works; Luke is in much more control of his emotions towards the end of the series than towards the beginning, but that doesn’t solve his biggest issue, his frustration with trying to control the criminal world that swirls around him.

Much of his vigilante work involves him chafing at the restrictions and controls presented by legal options. He’s not alone in this. Misty Knight has a similar path of trying to determine how comfortable she is with following the law versus going her own way. She was this close to going full Scarfe and planting evidence when the lawful means of going after a domestic abuser weren’t working, and turned in her badge because she felt that she’d crossed a line and could no longer be police. She scorned at Ridenhour’s compromises, and started assuming a vigilante role.

Misty, however, has power thrust upon her unexpectedly when she is made the temporary commander of her precinct, and in being in actual control makes her realize how much she misjudged the people who had been in control of her before. Heavy lies the crown as they say, and instead of becoming more rogue in her new role, she becomes more conformed to the establishment, more willing to strike deals and work in the system. The downside of this is her having to accept that her “wins” might be fewer and far between. The upside is that she probably the only character in this season to come out in a more positive position than she was in the beginning. To gain control, she has to give up some control, albeit on her own terms.

Contrast this to the walking disaster that is Mariah Dillard Stokes this season. Mariah’s miserable childhood has left her unable to develop trust with anyone, and so she takes on all decisions by herself and keeps control of her assets in her hands, despite repeated efforts by Shades to convince her that he wants to help her share her burdens. Probably due to the stress of taking all of this on herself, Mariah spends about half this season drunk and thus very not in control of herself, making more and more bad decisions as the series progresses. Trusting someone else means giving up control, and when she’s done that she’s been hurt, horrifically. So she trusts no one, betrays everyone, and winds up alone and dead.

These two parallel paths offer two possible models for where Luke goes after the end of this season. This season ends with Luke deciding to take absolute control of Harlem, taking Mariah’s place as the power-broker keeping a wall around the neighborhood and making deals with the bad guys to keep them out.

Yet the utter irony is that Luke only winds up taking this position of “dictator” (more on that term later) as an option of last resort. He is forced by Mariah’s machinations to take her position, with Mariah specifically having chosen him as her “heir” over her own daughter. He loves Harlem as much as she does, and Mariah finds he is the only person to be reliable around her - reliably against her, that is. And of course she also chooses him out of spite, to see how long he can remain incorruptible if he follows her path.

It is a trap. Donovan tells him so, bluntly. But Luke walks into it because he believes he’ll finally get his control in the end, and because it is the only option he sees left.

And try as I might, I have a hard time imagining what alternative he really had. He stops a gang war by becoming the boss of crime, he ends bloodshed, and the scale of what was unleashed on Harlem was beyond anything anyone was prepared to handle by other means. So perhaps this is the best choice among bad choices – for now.

Less forgivable is his decision to turn away Claire in the final scene (and if I can criticize the show for a moment, I really wish we could have seen her to know how she reacts to that rejection). That is a decidedly Mariah move, pushing away the one who loves you because to love is to let someone else have some control over you, if only your heart. (There are direct scene-for-scene parallels between some of Luke’s moments with Claire and Mariah’s with Shades for precisely this reason).

This arc for Luke seems to borrow heavily from Bendis’ run on Daredevil where Matt Murdock declared himself the new Kingpin of Hell’s Kitchen, and established a peace by force much as what Luke is planning. It did not end well for Matt; he wound up losing all his friends, his girlfriend, and going to prison. I hope it doesn’t go that far for Luke. At the very least, he seems open to continuing to work with Misty Knight, though that door-closing shot (a direct reference to the end of The Godfather) doesn’t bode well for that relationship continuing. But we also got a glimpse of connection between him and Danny Rand that promises maybe, maybe he can be convinced to be a true dictator.

Because, as anyone who has seen The Dark Knight knows, ancient Roman dictators were an emergency position created to deal with crises, at the end of which they were supposed to give up their power. Can Luke make the hard choice, the truly strong choice, and know when it’s time to relinquish his quest for total control, to be vulnerable, to allow himself to not be omnipotent?

I guess we will have to wait and see. Though I have other reasons to hope, but that will require another post on another theme of this season: families, both good and bad, found and hereditary.