#Attica smedry

[threemoonwatchers]

Throwback to when my 12-yo self thought Alcatraz broke his parents’ relationship hahahaaa

[dragoneyes618]

It's easy to forget that Kaz and Attica are brothers up until this part. 

[marenwithanm]

IM SO MAD IM SO MAD AAAAAAAA (/lh)

(Bastille vs the evil librarians spoilers ahead)

ATTICA IF YOU HAD JUST COMMUNICATED WITH YOUR FAMILY, SO MUCH HURT AND PAIN COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED!!!

It just breaks my heart that at the end of the day, both Attica, Shasta, and Alcatraz wanted the same thing: peace. They may have wanted it different ways, but if they had just talked, they could have figured something out! If Attica had just told Shasta that his plans to give everyone talents was to be thinned out, so it wouldn't sew the chaos she feared, then maybe she could have helped him. If Shasta had just listened to Attica, trusted him a little more, everything might have turned alright. And in the end, it did. But the consequences were drastic. Alcatraz is very traumatized, and while it's not all hopeless, he might not have had to endured that pain. Attica is stuck, incorporeal within the lense forged with his own heart and soul. We don't get to see much of Shasta's pain in the 6th book, but I'm sure the loss of her husband hurt her deeply. And feeling like she had to raise her son to be strong, like she had to be so distant, could not have been good for her mental state either.

Basically, I'm really sad about what might have been if they were better at communication, but I will concede that I'm glad things did eventually turn out okay

[moonzie-writes-stuff]

(Idea by @thesmileystudio but with the singular change of nOBODY ON THE SHIP KNOWING ABOUT IT)

So there I was, being rudely interrupted from my first dreamless sleep since the Highbrary by a frantic Bastille.

One thing we need to clarify. Don’t wake people up to help them after getting sick. I mean really, that’s extremely counterproductive to everything that any foster parents (or other Smedrys) have ever told me. (Surely there’s no oddly backwards Free Kingdomer logic about THAT, right?)

Of course, this situation might have possibly been different, since usually sickness isn’t caused by proximity to an acclaimed Hushlands landmark.

(No, I’m not kidding. In hindsight, why else would anyone build a giant metal arch in the middle of nowhere? For the “aesthetic?” Yeah, right.)

I’m going to assume you guys need context. I’m also going to assume I’m going to have to be the one to give it.

Fine. Here we go again.

“Why are we flying this way to Nalhalla? Isn’t it the other way?” I asked.

Kaz nodded. “We’re picking up Aydee on the way. I’m sorry, kid, but we’ve got to tell her the news about Attica.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the aircraft after that.

For those of you reading this WITHOUT having read the last five books of my autobiography and Bastille’s sixth installment first of all, why? Why are you here? You don’t even know my name, do you? Those of you in the Hushlands are probably questioning why a prison in France is shaking me awake, aren’t you? Read the other books first, you sicko. Secondly, since of course you’re probably still here despite my admonishing, accept this recap.

My name is Alcatraz Smedry. My family is known for having Talents for stuff like breaking things (me), getting lost (Kaz), and being bad at math (Aydee). Or at least that’s how things used to go, until I accidentally released the Dark Talent upon the world and broke the talents. (You know, as one does under pressure.)

The Librarians control the Hushlands. (lands such as the United States or China) and hide that fact from everyone who’s not in their cult while simultaneously trying to take over the free kingdoms (lands such as Nalhalla, Mokia, etc.) and incorporate them into their ever-growing empire.

The last volume I wrote detailed our infiltration into the Highbrary (Or as Hushlanders might know it, the U.S. Library of Congress) and introduced “Cousin Dif,” aka Biblioden, aka the Scrivener, aka the original head of the Librarians who was supposed to be dead years ago.

He betrayed us all when we least expected it, then sacrificed my father on an altar and shot my grandfather, leaving me the last surviving member of the true Smedry line of Oculators, who can use special glasses to do cool stuff.

So, basically, we failed completely.

Or so I thought.

Bastille’s recently released installment covered a LOT of happenings, including but not limited to Grandpa Smedry somehow managing to get his talent back in time to save his life, (He’s still arriving late to his bullet wound to this day.) gravity breaking across the entire world, (I plead the fifth on that one.) a diplomatic discussion with the Dark Talent itself that ended in the other talents coming back, and me having no choice but to give a little bit of Smedry Talent to everyone in the world.

So if you ever find yourself waking up looking uglier than usual, or tripping over nothing, or putting something in one place and coming back to find it gone, that was probably my fault.

Sorry about that.

“Hey, Kaz? Can we stop for food somewhere?”

“Sure, kid. We’re coming up on St. Louis, so we can find a place there if anyone has any Hushlander currency.”

I had, in fact, procured some from the Highbrary, and I told Kaz so.

“Alright! Lemme just set the detour real quick,” Australia said.

“Nice, I’ve always wanted to see the Gateway Arch,” I said, sitting in the nearest empty chair.

Bastille scoffed. “I don’t understand Hushlanders. Lots of gates have arches. Why is this one so special?”

I shrugged. “Mostly because it’s big and metal, and I think you can go inside it, but that might be a different landmark. I guess we don’t have to see it.”

“Well, if we’re gonna be there anyway, I suppose we can stop by it for a few minutes,” Bastille said, rolling her eyes.

“Actually, if you’re in full armor and the rest of us minus Kaz are in formalwear… if we go somewhere that public, we’re definitely going to attract unwanted attention. We probably shouldn’t stop in a city that big at all,” I rationalized.

Bastille rolled her eyes. “There are extra clothes on this thing for a reason, Smedry. We can make something work.”

“Alright, then. Australia, I’m afraid you’re going to have to hover and let whoever’s coming with me down on the ladder. A giant penguin landing in the middle of the city would be way too noticeable. Speaking of which, who’s coming with me?”

Bastille, Sing, and Kaz volunteered.

“Alrighty, then. I’m going to need some way to keep contact with you guys. Australia, how do you feel about Courier’s Lenses?”

“Um… better than the first time the two of us used them?”

“That’ll work. Australia, you’re gonna have to take everyone’s orders and pass them onto me through the lenses. Can you do that?”

“Um… maybe? Do we have a backup plan?”

I shrugged. “Only if Kaz still has his cell phone.”

Kaz gave me a thumbs up. “Yup! Sure do!”

“Leave it with Australia and there’s our backup plan. Now, I’m still going to be at least acting like I’m using the phone. Hushlanders aren’t exactly… used to lenses, so don’t freak out when you see me on the phone. It’s purely for aesthetic purposes.”

“Okay.”

“Bastille, Sing, and Kaz, you go change into T-shirts and shorts. I’ll be doing the same. I’ll tell you if they’re on wrong when you’re done.”

And so began a somewhat infiltration into St. Louis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we came back together, we found out that Sing had no taste in clothes. At all.

At least Bastille had chosen a fairly normal-looking black tee-shirt with some sarcastic comment on it and a pair of bermuda shorts.

And it turns out Kaz looks pretty good in a sweater vest. (Who knew?)

Sing, however… Well, some things are better illustrated in pictures.

I looked at Sing. “Okay, you know what? Sing, can you just find a plain, white shirt?”

Sing nodded. “Alright!” he said, already running (tripping once) to the room he’d claimed on Penguinator.

“Bastille, that’s perfect. Great job.”

Bastille smirked. “Thanks, Smedry. You don’t look to bad yourself.”

(A/N: If you’re wondering what he’s wearing)

I blushed, quickly changing the subject when Sing came back, wearing, as I’d asked, a white t-shirt.

“Alright, Australia, drop us down there. We can walk from here.”

It was true. There was a Steak ’n’ Shake not too far from the edge of town we were approaching, so I told everyone ahead of time what their options were.

Australia dropped us off, and I put on my Courier’s Lenses as we walked to the Steak ’n’ Shake.

“Alrighty, guys. Check out the menu while I call Australia.” I said, pulling out the cell phone and acting like I was putting in a phone number.

“Hi!” Australia gasped. “OH MY GOSH ITS WORKING SO WELL??? WOW!”

I winced at her volume. “Okay, Australia. Ask everyone whether they want chicken tenders or a burger, and write it down so you can tell me.”

“You got it!” the Courier’s Lenses blinked out as Australia took them off.

Kaz grinned. “The cheeseburger looks pretty good. Also, what are milkshakes?”

I gasped, faux offendedly. “Okay yeah we have to introduce everyone to milkshakes. Wait, Kaz, do you know if anyone with us is lactose intolerant?”

Kaz shook his head. “Nope, nobody on Penguinator is lactose intolerant.”

“Great! Now I just have to-” at that precise moment, Australia’s Couriers Lenses were turned back on. “Nice! Australia, ask around for milkshake orders. They’ve got Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, Banana, Oreo Cookies 'n Cream, Mint Oreo, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Birthday Cake, Cotton Candy, M&M's, Reese's peanut butter cup, Reese's peanut butter, Reese’s chocolate peanut butter, Nutella, Butterfinger, Kit-Kat, and Snickers.”

(A/N: yes I did have to copy and paste the shake menu and delete the calories and ingredient information this hurt me)

Australia dutifully wrote down each flavor and made a saluting motion before turning off her lenses again.

“Alright, guys! Any minute now and we’ll be able to order.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half an hour later, the four of us returned to Penguinator with plenty of fast food for the others before immediately going back down to see the Gateway Arch.

A few minutes in, Sing tripped.

Of course, we made nothing of it.

A few minutes later, the milkshake started to disagree with me.

“Oof. I should NOT have gotten a large.”

Bastille scoffed. “Obviously.”

We came within sight of the arch, and my head began to pound.

Well, that’s not the milkshake, is it, I thought.

My stomach turned as we walked closer, and I found myself suddenly drained of all energy. Where before I’d had the quickest strides out of the team, now I was lagging about two feet behind Kaz, very much in last place.

Needless to say, Bastille noticed. Also needless to say, she decided to make fun of me for it. “You’d better not be falling asleep back there, Smedry,”

“No, m’fine,” I said, although I definitely was feeling a little sleepy.

We were so close; I couldn’t give up now. Bastille was gonna lose her mind when she found out we could, in fact, go inside the thing, up all the way to the top. There were windows up there, I was pretty sure.

She wanted to make fun of me for lagging behind? Well, we’d see how she felt about going ahead of everyone else when we were up six hundred thirty feet in the air.

The world seemed to spin all of a sudden, but on the bright side, we were almost to the ticket center.

“Hey guys! We can go inside it! Let’s go!” Sing exclaimed, pointing at a sign.

Kaz hung back. “I don’t know, guys. Are you sure you wanna go in? I mean, think about Bastille, that’s pretty high up…”

Bastille shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

I gave a small smile that probably looked like a grimace.* “That’s the idea. It’s time I get some teasing ammunition for once.”

Kaz looked at me. “Al, you’re not lookin’ to good. I don’t know if you’d survive up there without passing out.”

“M’fine, Kaz. C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”

We waited in line at the ticket center for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. My legs felt like gelatin, but Sing looked so excited, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna be the one to rob him of this experience.

I inhaled sharply. White-hot pain stabbed through my head, uncannily reminiscent of the headaches I’d get as a child. (I now knew they were a result of Oculatory power building up in me at unhealthy levels.)

“You alright, Smedry? We can’t have you fainting away on us.” Bastille snarked.

“Fine, fine. Just a headache.”

“Drama queen.”

“Okay, Bastille.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Guys! The line’s moved!” Sing said, effectively finishing the argument for us.

I hobbled forward, swaying like one of those inflatable tube men you see in the Hushlands sometimes. (For you Free Kingdomers reading this, think holding a singular cooked noodle vertically and moving your hand back and forth slightly, but upside down and with two smaller noodles attached to the first one.)

Bastille steadied me. “Whoa, there. Don��t go fainting away on me, Smedry.”

I tried to think of a good comeback, but my mind wasn’t working and my vision was fuzzy and when I looked back at Bastille all that came out was, “S’rry.” (Brain-clouding radiation. Obviously.)

I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, perfectly fine, with Bastille shaking me like a child rolling out play-doh.

“Bastille, stop, I’m awake!” I got up and looked around, taking in my surroundings, which seemed to be some sort of makeshift infirmary. “How and when did we get back here?”

“I carried you, idiot.”

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks reddening at the implication that Bastille had been lugging me around like a sack of potatoes back to Penguinator.

I looked back up at Bastille, and immediately received a smack to the face as a reward for my eye contact.

“Ow… what the heck?”

Bastille then proceeded to tackle-hug me back onto the bed. I stiffened.

This is once again a time to tell the women reading this to please give us men a warning before you hug us. We need warning. (You know what, just everyone give people warning in general it doesn’t matter the gender.)

“Alcatraz, please NEVER do that again; Sing said he could feel your pulse slowing down. You could’ve died, Smedry. I…” Bastille got up and paced around the room, stopping at a window. “I can’t lose you.”

I blinked stupidly. “You can’t lose me?” What on earth was that supposed to mean?

Bastille looked down, and I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if her cheeks were genuinely as red as mine. “For one, your entire family would kill me, and for two, the knights would kill me again.”

“So, purely diplomatic, then,” I said, not sure why I was feeling strangely disappointed.

“That, yeah.”

I looked down at the ground, trying to hide the fact that my face was probably tomato red. We were flying closer to St. Louis, and as we approached, I could feel a headache flaring up again. I wobbled back to my bed as spots swam in my vision, and the last thing I remember before passing out was seeing the top of the Gateway Arch through the floor.

I woke up with Australia on the bed next to me, trying to calm down a panicked Sing.

“It’s fine, Sing. It was just a little headache.”

Sing raised an eyebrow. “You said you were really dizzy.”

Australia looked at me and slowly shook her head. “You should be worried about Alcatraz; he passed out again, but he’s awake now. Go interrogate him.”

With my luck, that did the trick, and Sing immediately ran over to (for some bizarre reason) check my vitals.

“Sing, I’m fine now. I don’t know what came over me.”

Sing looked about to cry. “You said you were fine last time and look what happened!”

“Yeah, why are we suddenly fine now?” Australia wondered. “Like, I was REALLY dizzy. Sing, you saw it. I almost fell over.”

“I don’t know, but I think I passed out again when we were over the arch.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, the thing was, like, wiggling and stretching through my lenses. I got a headache just looking at it through them, but when I took ‘em off, it just went away.”

“Huh.”

“I might be crazy, but I think it’s the arch.”

“But if it’s the arch, why were only the two of us affected?”

“Good question.”

We sat there in silence, thinking about why the arch would give an adverse reaction to the two of us specifically.

“Oh,” Australia said, tapping her head like she’d just found out that the most obvious answer was, in fact, the right one.

“What?”

“I think it’s an Oculator thing.”

“Then why would I have passed out while you didn’t?”

“By the first sands, Smedry, isn’t it obvious?” Bastille’s voice came from behind me and I started. I’d forgotten she was there.

“Bastille, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are three different Smedrys in the room right now, so you’re gonna have to learn everyone’s first names at some point.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“Alcatraz…”

“What?”

Bastille then made a noise that sounded uncannily like a horse muffled into a pillow.

“Okay, what’s so obvious, then?”

“It’s because you’re so shattering powerful. I mean, have you ever seen Australia use Courier’s lenses from halfway across the country? On instinct?”

“Uh… no.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, I can confirm I could NEVER.”

“Oh.”

*I know EXACTLY what a good number of the Hushlanders are probably thinking, and you’re thinking of the wrong fast food chain. Go smell some grass, or whatever it is the Hushlands kids say nowadays.

[obscurememesubjects]

[im-a-ramblr]

Day 18, Things left unsaid

Attica Smedry was a charming, smart, handsome man. He was well-liked, and everyone wanted to spend time with him, inviting him to parties and meetings of all kinds. He admired by everyone. At least that’s how it seemed to everyone else. The truth was Attica could never seem to get the admiration from the people who he really wanted it from. His wife’s and his son’s.

But that was fine. He’d accepted that Shasta wasn’t going to be easy re-woo, they were both too determined to be right. He’d have to prove her wrong than help mend her ego for a while before things when back to how they use to be. But Alcatraz? Attica had no idea what he was supposed to do about that. He’d thought he’d had it; the boy had seemed so pleased to see him in the Library of Alexandria. But then it hadn’t gone anywhere.

Deep down, a part of him knew why that was. Jut like the with the press and reputations, you had to put time into a relationship. If he ignored the outside world too long because of his research they’d stop loving him. Thankfully, that took much longer for the press to stop supporting him than it did for relationships, so the city still loved him. Especially after the stunt, he pulled where he vanished without a trace, only to return 13 years later with a ton of knowledge and his son.

His son, who was currently sitting across from him, poking his food with his fork. He didn’t seem to be any happier to be here than his father. Attica stifled a sigh and glanced around the table. His father had insisted they all eat together as a family. How he’d gotten everyone to agree was a mystery.

Pattywagon was talking to Millhaven’s children, including a little girl who Attica didn’t know. They were easily the loudest part of the table. Quentin was seated across from Kazan and was listening to Kazen and Folsom ranked places the former had gotten lost in. Occasionally he’d make comments or look at a dark-skinned woman next to Folsom. Attica truly had no idea who she was. She and Alcatraz would sometimes share looks, or she’d urge him to eat in a soft voice. She and Leavenworth seem to be the only ones beside him to notice the boy’s nearly full plate.

“Ah, but dear Himilaya is from the hushlands!” Patty said suddenly. “And so is Alcatraz! Couldn’t you just ask them?”

Attica looked towards her; eyebrow raised. She was speaking to Sing and pointing down the table to the woman and Alcatraz. Folsom tensed, but Alcatraz peered around to look at the large Mokian man.

Sing blushed. “I could but I was not sure it was polite to ask.”

“Ask what?” Alcatraz asked, still looking down the table.

“Ah, just some research on Hushland history. Nothing very important.” Sing assured him.

Alcatraz bit his lip, a terrible habit to have Attica mentally noted, and then blurted out. “I could help.” He then turned red. “If you wanted me to of course. I didn’t have a normal time growing up there, but I still absorbed the culture. Well, parts of it.”

“Would you?” Sing brightened. “You did not seem terribly pleased last time I asked. Before the infiltration of the downtown library.”

“Oh!” the teenager shook his head. “No that was- I mean- uh. Yes! I want to help. Sorry for coming across as unwilling last time. I- I was struggling to grasp everything. I mean, I had just learned my whole life was a lie, so I was processing.”

The other Smedrys nodded in understanding. “It must have been hard.” Quentin acknowledged. “Finding out there was a whole other half the world you didn’t know existed.”

“And that you had living family who wanted you,” Leavenworth added, reaching to rest a hand on Alcatraz’s shoulder.  “Both of which are vital truths you deserved to know the whole time.”

Attica frowned at that. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but what are you talking about?” He looked around, feeling lost, and out of the loop. He didn’t like it. Alcatraz’s smiled dropped and he turned back to stare at his food.

Silence.

“This is ridiculous.” Kazen sighed. “Trying to navigate this family worse than trying to work my talent!”

“I agree.” Folsom nodded. “2 out of 10 for communication. We can do better.”

Attica opened his mouth to protest, but his son let out a breathy laugh. That made the youngest of his nieces laugh. After a few moments, Alcatraz burrows his face in his hand and took several deep breaths. “I’m sorry Folsom, you too Kazan. It just- communication issues isn’t something I think about when I think about you guys. So the fact that all of us being together, makes us all so bad at it is funny.”

“It’s okay. It is kind of funny. And I’d rather make you laugh than cry. 10 of 10.” Folsom grinned.

The youth gave his uncle a soft, kind of tired, smile. “So how do we get better at it? Communication, I mean.”

“You start by talking.” Patty grinned.

“And I think, the first topic should be the story of how we got Alcatraz,” Leavenworth said, looking at Attic. “And then we should do yours.”

Attica nodded, unsure how else to respond. “Alcatraz? Would you tell us how it went?” It felt odd to ask to learn something from someone else.

Alcatraz's head snapped in his father’s direction, mouth opened slightly. “You want me to tell it?”

Attica shifted, trying to ignore the voice in his head that was screaming that asking had been a very big mistake. He nodded.

His son’s eyes went wide, before narrowing. He studies his father for a moment the looked at his grandfather, who nodded.

“Well, it started on my thirteenth birthday….” Attica forced himself to listen intently and didn’t let his mind drift to various theories and questions the story brought up. He could ask wonder about those later. He needed this information because it would be important for him to know for later. He needed these things as a base for how to get his family back after his project was finished. He listened and watched his son explained everything he’d missed, and then some, as his cousins convinced him to tell them about his first impressions of the Freelands.

Attica couldn’t help a grin when Patty pressed the boy to reveal that he too had made the connection between normal sands and Oculatory sands. The same one he had made. He wanted to say something. You should read my paper on that and discuss it with me. I’m proud of you. What other things have you noticed with your fresh eyes? I love you, I missed you, I promise I have a plan to make things better.

He said nothing. He knew the importance of well-timed reveals and keeping certain things unsaid until the right moment. So he opting to merely listen and learn. He could say all those things later when he had something to show for all the missed time. He would say all the things he felt, but only when they would truly matter. He could go unspoken for a little while longer. He was so close to finishing everything anyway. Yes, things were looking up.

[libralita]

“He certainly did have a charm about him, when he wanted to impress people. In that moment, looking at that smile, I could swear that I’d seen him somewhere, long before my visit to the Library of Alexandria.”—Page 282

Oh, god, don’t tell me that Attica visited Alcatraz before his 13th birthday. Don’t do this to me, Sanderson.

[aesudan-kholin]

please just divorce his ass

[incorrectalcatrazquotes]

Attica: What a great article. Couldn't have been better.

Alcatraz: They spelled my name wrong.

Bastille: They didn't mention me at all.

Attica: Well, in all the essentials, I mean.

[intergalactic-author]

As much as I enjoyed the individual reading reactions they took too long so I'm trying this out. Here's Alcatraz vs the Scrivener's Bones.

Tbh I would hate wearing ugly blue-tinted glasses

I love all the new lenses

If you aren't going to fully explain the altar and sacrifice, stop bringing it up

Only a few months and he's already picking up new swear words. Beautiful.

I for one, would absolutely love to see Alcatraz just decimate something

This seems like foreshadowing

Yes yes new characters

Of course Bastille got demoted for a situation beyond her control

So. How could Alcatraz contact his grandfather if the Courier's Lenses shouldn't work over such a vast distance?

I am cautious and curious of finding Attica

Nothing like a good old missile as an alarm clock

Have I mentioned I love Bastille?

I can attest. Hitting someone with Oathbringer would kill them.

Glad to hear Alexander the Great actually existed. He was one crazy-cool dude.

Blood-forged lenses sound ... concerning

I'm intrigued by the Incarnate Wheel and the Breaking Talent's place on it

I would like to know what book Attica traded his soul for

Of course Shasta is here

Oh so that's why Shasta was complaining she couldn't find her keys

'Breaking' at the centre of the Incarnate Wheel? Tell me more.

Yes yes yes I want to know everything

So earlier Kaz was talking about someone rumoured to have broken time and created a bubble where it didn't pass. Is this it? No dust on the floor? A fresh-dead corpse? Creepy tomb? Perfect place to stop time.

Hell yes. Alcatraz the first? Why does he call it the "Corrupting Talent". What did he know? Man I wish this series had time travel.

Isn't it nice when 13 year olds call themselves failures and talk about their darkest fears and anxieties?

Wow Alcatraz it's not like you or any of your Smedry relatives ever disobey a plan.

Bastille you aren't a failure

Well Attica is - interesting

Yes epilogue thanks for pointing it out. When is this supposed sacrifice going to happen?

This ending worries me

Also can I just say how I love all the fake "last pages" in these books? They're beautiful. Bastille really does die at the end of the book. How tragic.

And the book's done. An intriguing sequel. I'm curious to learn more about the Talents and that tomb and the warning Alcatraz 1st left behind. And is that sacrifice actually going to happen? I'm beginning to think it's a myth.

[tamaraniac]

Attica Smedry is great at losing things... he even managed to lose his own kid

[threemoonwatchers]

Alcatraz, holding Attica’s lens at 3 AM: tHeY cAn’T hEaR yOu! YoU’rE jUsT a VoiCe iN mY hEaD!

[dragoneyes618]

I just hope that Attica did not hear Alcatraz telling Biblioden to take him....

[threemoonwatchers]

Smedry gang and their knights!!! :D

(Featuring a few headcanons)

In order: Alcatraz, Bastille, Australia, Shasta, Aydee, Kaz, Grandpa Smedry, Draulin, Himalaya, and Sing!

(I also have Attica but only ten pics are allowed so I guess either tough luck or I make Folsom, Quentin, and maybe Angola, Brig, and Rikers to go with him)

[im-a-ramblr]

Let talk about the Shaper’s Lens for a second

Specifically what they must have done to Alcatraz. Now everything about  The Dark Talent did harm to him. I am 100% sure that his experience there are what caused his “I'm a terrible person, and I am not a hero” attitude spawn from that. But what the Shaper’s Lens showed him. 

(Please note I even though this post is kind of Pro-Attica, I will always believe him to be a jerk. Who, even if he lived, will always have a hard time having a convincing redemption arc.) 

With Shasta it showed him that she did what him (or at least a child), but that war was a bigger priority. With Attica it showed him that Attica wanted to be loved by everyone, but also that he wanted his family to stand him. 

It uprooted everything Alcatraz knew about his family. It showed him that, in some way, his parents did want him. 

Then Attica dies, willing, in place of Alcatraz, after Alcatraz sells him out. You have to wonder what went through Alcatraz head while he sat next to the alter and his father’s body. Did he think he did it to look like a hero, or did he sit there and remember how in his father’s perfect world Alcatraz was by his father’s side? Did he think his father did it for his legacy, and because he thought it would make Alcatraz want to finish his work, or was it because he knew what was going to happen and he couldn’t bear the though of his 13 year old son going through that? 

I don’t know just a thought..... I wonder if it’ll be mentioned in book six.

Also book six is going to be from Bastille’s Point Of View. I AM SO READY

[im-a-ramblr]

The Smedry’s watch Hamilton

And it gets to ‘Take A Break’ and Attica scoffs and goes “There is no way that Alexander would ignore his son for 9 years. Not when he was THAT excited about becoming a father”

And everyone just turns and looks at him. Alcatraz rolled his eyes, as Shasta says. “You’re right Attica, it would have been far more accurate if he’ d done if for 13 years.”

Grandpa, helpful as always, goes “Perhaps the more excited they man, the longer they ignore their brilliant children.” 

Attica is bright red. Alcatraz is silent laughing at him.