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gascon-en-exil · 5 years ago

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I'm genuinely curious about your "Black Eagles most to least favourite" list.

Here you are.

#1: Hubert

Could there be any other? I remember back when there was a promo introducing the house retainers (well, Lorenz for the Deer) and everyone was saying that Hubert looked so obviously evil that there had to be some deeper explanation, that someone who took design cues from a two-dimensional villain like Fates’s Iago couldn’t possibly be Edelgard’s retainer. Then the game came out, and we all realized that Hubert was exactly as advertised and then some: a cold and calculating murderer and war criminal with his fingerprints all over almost every terrible thing that happens over the course of the story, as comfortable with chloroform and a razor as dark magic and down to perform unspeakable experiments on innocent civilians to turn them into war machines and then backstab his co-conspirators because he will suffer no rivals for his title of the Most Evil Man in Fòdlan. And yep, he looks like Dracula and Severus Snape had a one-night stand and their mpreg love child went to an anime convention...but when Ferdinand looks at Hubert he sees Mr. Darcy and the Phantom of the Opera and Edward Cullen/Christian Grey, and soon enough that snake in Hubert’s breeches will be singing quite the aria indeed. You do you, Ferdinand.

Ok, I’ve already rambled at length on Hubert’s bisexuality and the interesting things it reveals about both him and his two primary love interests, but I do also have to admire the sheer audacity both of Hubert as an incel/Nice Guy-flavored romantic false lead for Edelgard who never had a serious chance because of the self-insert fantasy and of the decision to follow that up with a trope-laden queer romance that perfectly counterbalances Hubert’s attraction to Edelgard and puts Ferdinand firmly in the place he was destined to occupy by choosing to side with the Empire. It’s nearly as outrageous as just how casually evil Hubert gets to be, as well as the immense potential for dark humor that lies with that. You have to bend over backwards to say that Hubert isn’t unapologetically, irredeemably evil, and if you try there will be significantly more fans just waiting to tell you that you’re wrong - myself included. He’s the Manfroy to Edelgard’s Arvis but so much than that, and I look forward to the point in the CF postgame where he effectively takes over the Empire in true evil chancellor fashion and unleashes the full extent of his horrors upon Fòdlan. He somehow got even better in the DLC too despite being absent from CS and getting no new supports, because the Abyssians in CF just can’t stop talking about his nefarious antics down there. I just can’t get enough of how good this guy is at being bad, and I love that FE gave us exactly what was advertised here.

#2: Ferdinand

Now here’s a case of the opposite, where what’s on the packaging didn’t prepare me for what was to come. If I remarked on Ferdinand at all during pre-release it was only to think that he might be part of a Christmas knight duo with Sylvain since the game looked like it wouldn’t have one of those. Early on there wasn’t much else to be said about Ferdinand; he was like Claude in that his popularity ran off a meme (except just the one rather than several), and in appearance and personality he was basically Lorenz with less ridiculous hair. But then came his supports, and his post-timeskip look, and suddenly Ferdinand blossomed into the subtext-laden fem with very bizarre taste in men - see above - that he could have only dreamed of being if he’d stuck to such well-trod ground as the Christmas knight archetype. We learn of his love for opera, his complicated relationship with his father, his worship of the hot mess diva Manuela and how he learned swordplay specifically to imitate her roles on the stage, and - yes - how some backhanded compliments and expensive gifts of tea turn him into a blushing Regency heroine. It all casts his unusually rote romances with women in a performative light (as opposed to Lorenz who is similarly performative but seems genuinely interested in the marriage market), to say nothing of his one-sided rivalry with Edelgard that brushes against jealousy over Hubert’s devotion to her more often than against romantic attraction to her, and that toys around with gendered behavior in a manner complementary to Edelgard’s own bucking of the gender status quo.

And while not to the same extent as Felix, I do appreciate that Ferdinand has two distinct arcs depending on the route - and unlike some who feel that one or the other detracts from his character as a whole I personally find that they complement each other well. In SS and if recruited to AM and VW he makes the hard choice to oppose his homeland, spending the timeskip waging a solitary battle against the Empire with his private militia and then joining back up with Byleth’s army at Garreg Mach because he knows Edelgard is in the wrong even as it pains him to depose the Adrestian emperor and leave his own status uncertain...not to mention fight Hubert, which merits a curious boss conversation as well as some extra lines in SS (plus the infamous Huge Hole™ remark that I will never stop referencing because it is hilarious) that, while not elevating Ferdibert anywhere near the level of Dimidue in terms of cross-route canon endorsement, nonetheless are suggestive of something deeper between them that exists even if they find themselves on opposite sides of a war. In CF by contrast Ferdinand gives into his craving for the title and holdings that Edelgard has just stripped from his father and embraces nationalism and his long-held ideal of what the office of the prime minister should to do as a means of justifying the Empire’s conquests. Of course in the process he also succumbs to Hubert’s, er, charms(?) and becomes the charismatic bureaucrat who is presumably saddled with the task of putting a positive spin on the Empire’s dystopian atrocities while Edelgard and Hubert do all the actual work...and Hubert does all the actual actual work, which includes a lot of murder and kidnapping and all manner of other things that he doesn’t share with his pretty lover and about which Ferdinand quickly learns not to ask. Two Jewels of the Empire, indeed.

#3-4: Edelgard and Dorothea

I go back and forth on these so I’m not going to bother putting them in a definitive order, particularly because I like them for very different reasons that are difficult to compare. For Edelgard, it would be most accurate to say that I enjoy her potential much more than her execution; she gets some meaty material to work with as a lord and as the driving antagonist of the whole game outside of CF, and while I still prefer Micaiah for female lords there’s something darkly satisfying about her need for control and domination and her utter refusal to compromise or remain stagnant...except where Byleth is concerned, and Edeleth drags her down so badly that it would be painful if I cared more about that type of strong female character. Had the game axed the self-insert obsession (even if that meant axing her bisexuality along with it) and focused on her experiences during the Insurrection as the source of her worldview and motivations I’d be inclined to like the final product far more, because that’s a hell of a lot more in line with what she actually does and conveniently also maps to the life of a real world ruler with whom I’m relatively familiar and whom history regards in appropriately ambivalent terms.

Dorothea on the other hand is someone I can relate to on a more personal level, mostly as a sex worker. She’s similar to Primrose from Octopath Traveler, both of them prostitutes and playing coy with the implications of the RPG dancer class archetype, although Primrose hits a few more of my buttons for being former nobility and being motivated by revenge. Then again, I fully understand Dorothea’s anxieties about growing old without a man to take care of her, even if she loses me (and Yuri picks up from where she leaves off) when she dips into lesbianism as an alternative option. She’s got her ups and downs for me - I love that she brings up incest kink with Caspar as opposed to this series’s usual outright incest, while I love less her strange Ferdinand supports that are suspended oddly between friendship and romance and...something else undefinable - and I don’t have much to say on her life as an opera diva except that it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that she’s been turning tricks on the side and even got a sugar daddy to pay her way into the academy. Theatre and sex work have always gone hand-in-hand like that.

#5-7: Linhardt, Caspar, and Petra

This is why I couldn’t make up a list like this for the Lions or Deer, because most of their students would be in big clumps like this. I have no strong opinions on any of these characters; they each have their moments, but not enough to elevate them to where I actively like them or drop them down into real dislike. I suppose you could say I’m disappointed by how Caspar and Linhardt are visual allusions to Ike/Soren who do absolutely nothing else with that similarity except eloping in their paired ending...which is preceded by virtually nothing in the way of real chemistry. If I enjoy them for anything in particular it’s Linhardt’s wit and Caspar’s occasional bouts of emotional vulnerability, like his mini-arc in AM where he has to deal with his feelings surrounding Randolph’s death and then later gets an apology from Dimitri for it.

Petra is awkward all around as the game dances around her delicate political situation, and I also happen to agree with the VA who (if I recall) thought the character should have some sort of accent but wasn’t allowed to do one. (If anyone is wondering, based on her last name and Brigid being an island nation I headcanon it as a Celtic-derived culture, but as with my personal reading of Dedue and Duscur I know that doesn’t play well to the fandom at large). All in all Petra feels like a more self-aware rendition of the exotic swordswoman archetype begun by Ayra in Jugdral, but there’s clearly still some work to be done on that front.

#8: Bernadetta

Ugh. With apologies to @capriciouscorvid for explaining how even unintentional disability representation can be taken as a positive, I just don’t see how Bernadetta’s character could possibly be considered a good thing when she’s so grating in almost all of her supports and most of her story and exploration presence outside of CF. All the screaming and high-pitched pronouncements of impending death get very old very quickly, and the part where she’s meant to be romantically appealing in her neediness and isolation is as lost on me as it would have been had it stemmed instead from a massive rack. Her supposedly sympathetic backstory doesn’t help much either, as it leaves me mostly with the thought that her father is an idiot because his methods obviously did not make her suitable to be a good wife. I also don’t care for how she’s one of several characters used to soften Jeritza (and that the way she does so is I think rather insulting to people with social anxiety, to liken it to a compulsion to commit murder), or even worse that people point to her Hubert support to try and say that he’s not such a bad guy and they’d be total besties just like Ferdinand and Dorothea (another pairing that doesn’t exactly scream BFFs). I mean, really....

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Black Eagles

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justforbooks · 5 years ago

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The greatest year for books ever?

Several years including 1862, 1899 and 1950 could be considered literature’s very best. But one year towers above these, writes Jane Ciabattari.

The year 1925 was a golden moment in literary history. Ernest Hemingway’s first book, In Our Time, Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway and F Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby were all published that year. As were Gertrude Stein’s The Making of Americans, John Dos Passos’ Manhattan Transfer, Theodore Dreiser’s An American Tragedy and Sinclair Lewis’s Arrowsmith, among others. In fact, 1925 may well be literature’s greatest year.

But how could one even go about determining the finest 12 months in publishing history? Well, first, by searching for a cluster of landmark books: debut books or major masterpieces published that year. Next, by evaluating their lasting impact: do these books continue to enthrall readers and explore our human dilemmas and joys in memorable ways? And then by asking: did the books published in this year alter the course of literature? Did they influence literary form or content, or introduce key stylistic innovations?

Books that came out in 1862, for instance, included Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead, Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables and Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons. But Gustave Flaubert’s novel of that year, Sallambo, set in Carthage during the 3rd Century BC, was no match for Madame Bovary. George Eliot’s historical novel Romola and Anthony Trollope’s Orley Farm were also disappointments.

The year 1899 is another contender for literature’s best. Kate Chopin’s seminal work The Awakening was published then, as was Frank Norris’s McTeague and two Joseph Conrad classics – Heart of Darkness and Lord Jim (serialised in Blackwood’s Magazine). But Tolstoy’s last novel Resurrection, published also in 1899, was more shaped by his religious and political ideals than a powerful sense of character; and Henry James’ The Awkward Age was a failed experiment – a novel written almost entirely in dialogue.

And in 1950 there were published books from Isaac Asimov (I, Robot), Ray Bradbury (The Martian Chronicles), Patricia Highsmith (Strangers on a Train), Doris Lessing (The Grass Is Singing) and CS Lewis (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe). But other great fiction writers produced lesser works that year – Ernest Hemingway’s minor Across the River and into the Trees; Jack Kerouac’s The Town and the City, written under the influence of Thomas Wolfe; John Steinbeck’s poorly received play-in-novel-format Burning Bright and Evelyn Waugh’s only historical novel, the Empress Helena (Roman emperor Constantine’s Christian mother goes in search of relics of the Cross).

But 1925 brought something unique – a vibrant cultural outpouring, multiple landmark books and a paradigm shift in prose style. Literary work that year reflected a world in the aftermath of tremendous upheaval. The brutality of World War One, with some 16 million dead and 70 million mobilised to fight, had left its mark on the Lost Generation. In Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf created the indelible shell-shocked veteran Septimus Smith, “with hazel eyes which had that look of apprehension in them which makes complete strangers apprehensive too. The world has raised its whip; where will it descend?”

Looking inward

The solid external world of the realists and naturalists was giving way to the shifting perceptions of the modernist ‘I’. Mrs Dalloway, which covers one day as Clarissa Dalloway prepares for a party – and Septimus Smith for his demise – is a landmark modernist novel. Its narrative is rooted in the flow of consciousness, with dreams, fantasies and vague perceptions gaining unprecedented expression. Woolf’s stylistic breakthrough reflected a changing perception of reality. Proust was also all the rage at this moment, as Scott Moncrieff’s translation of Remembrance of Things Past’s third volume was just out. Woolf admired Proust’s “astonishing vibration and saturation and intensification”.

The year 1925 also contributed to the culmination of Gertrude Stein’s career. She had moved to Paris in 1903 and established a Saturday evening salon that eventually included Ernest Hemingway, F Scott Fitzgerald, Sinclair Lewis, Ezra Pound and Sherwood Anderson, as well as artists Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse. Stein responded to her immersion in the Parisian avant-garde by writing The Making of Americans, which was published in 1925, more than a decade after its completion. In over 900 pages of stream-of-consciousness, Stein tells of “the old people in a new world, the new people made out of the old,” and describes an American “space of time that is filled always filled with moving”. Early critics like Edmund Wilson couldn’t finish Stein’s complex web of repetition, but she has been credited with foreshadowing postmodernism and making key stylistic breakthroughs, including using the continuous present and a nearly musical word choice. As Anderson put it: “For me, the work of Gertrude Stein consists in a rebuilding, an entirely new recasting of life, in the city of words.”

Stein’s experiments with language influenced Hemingway’s signature sparseness. Beginning with the autobiographical Nick Adams stories in his first book, 1925’s In Our Time, his fiction is characterised by pared-down prose, with symbolic meaning lying beneath the surface. Nick witnesses birth and suicide as a young boy accompanying his father, a doctor, to deliver a baby in the Michigan woods. He is exposed to urban crime when two Chicago hitmen come to his small town. And as a war veteran trying to keep his memories at bay, he gravitates toward the familiar pleasures of camping and fishing: "He had made his camp. He was settled. Nothing could touch him."

Modern times

The midpoint of the Roaring ‘20s was a time of rare prosperity and upward mobility in the United States. The stock market seemed destined to climb forever, and the American Dream seemed within the grasp of the masses. 1925 was special, though. In New York, Countee Cullen, Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, Claude McKay, Jean Toomer and other writers of the Harlem Renaissance were given a definitive showcase that year in the anthology The New Negro, edited by Alain Locke. At the same time Harold Ross launched a revolutionary and risky weekly magazine called The New Yorker, which featured portraits of Manhattan socialites and their adventures and offered what would be a treasured showcase for short stories ever since.

F Scott Fitzgerald dubbed this flamboyant postwar American era “the Jazz Age”. Alcohol flowed freely despite Prohibition; flappers followed the sober suffragettes into a time of sexual freedom. New wealth was spreading the riches and opening doors to players like Fitzgerald’s immortal character Jay Gatsby, whose fortune was rumoured to be based on bootlegging. The Great Gatsby, published in 1925, gives a portrait both tawdry and touching, as Gatsby remakes himself in a doomed attempt to win the love of the wealthy Daisy Buchanan. The tarnished American Dream also was central that year to Theodore Dreiser’s naturalist masterpiece, An American Tragedy. Dreiser based the novel on a real criminal case, in which a young man murders his pregnant mistress in an attempt to marry into an upper class family, and is executed by electric chair. Also ripped from the headlines, Sinclair Lewis’s realistic 1925 novel Arrowsmith was a first in exploring the influence of science on American culture. Lewis wrote of the medical training, practice and ethical dilemmas facing a physician involved in high-level scientific research.

These books weren’t just original, even revolutionary, creations – they were helping to establish the very idea of modernity, to make sense of the times. Perhaps 1925 is literature’s most important year simply because no other 12-month span features such a dialogue between literature and real life. Certainly that’s the case in terms of how new technologies – the automobile, the cinema – shook up literary form in 1925. John Dos Passos’ Manhattan Transfer introduced the cinematic narrative form to the novel. New York, presented in fragments as if it were a movie montage on the page, is the novel’s collective protagonist, the inhuman industrialised city presented as a flow of images and characters passing at high speed. "Declaration of war… rumble of drums... Commencement of hostilities in a long parade through the empty rain lashed streets,” Dos Passos writes. “Extra, extra, extra. Santa Claus shoots daughter he has tried to attack. Slays Self With Shotgun." Sinclair Lewis called Manhattan Transfer "the vast and blazing dawn we have awaited. It may be the foundation of a whole new school of fiction."

Was 1925 the greatest year in literature? The ultimate proof, 90 years later, is the shape-shifting the novel has undergone, still based on these early inspirations – and the continuing resonance of Nick Adams, Jay Gatsby and Clarissa Dalloway. These characters from a transformative time are still enthralling generations of new readers.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS

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kmomof4 · 6 years ago

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Well, I did it again...

I wrote another fic...

Well, here we are again. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever write another fic, and I still can’t believe I did it, but when I finally bought and downloaded one of my youngest’s favorite movies, the ending gave me massive CS feels. So after plenty of hand-holding, encouragement, cheerleading, and brilliantly executed beta duties from none other than @hollyethecurious, @winterbaby89, and @shireness-says, I present to you my second CS fic. I hope you all like it. There are two instances of strong language and the fic is rated T because of that. Many thanks to @winterbaby89 for the use of her original character from The Red Dress Affair. This is an unapologetically stupid disaster movie fic, based on the 1997 Tommy Lee Jones movie Volcano. I have taken a massive amount of liberties with LA geography, field trip protocol, and established scientific fact to fit the purposes of the fic. Apologies to anyone who lives in the area and/or cares.

Tagging some folks who might be interested in reading something else from me. @artistic-writer @ilovemesomekillianjones @doodlelolly0910 @let-it-raines @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @seriouslyhooked @branlovestowrite @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @pocket-anon @donteattheappleshook @kymbersmith-90 @snowbellewells @sherlockianwhovian @teamhook

Read more line after the first scene unless Tumblr ate it. Part 2 will be up on Tuesday.

State of Emergency ao3 link

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Emma Swan stood at the stove listening to the morning news in the background while scrambling eggs for herself and her son, Henry, before she sent him off to school. He had a big day ahead of him with his Kindergarten Buddy Field Trip to the La Brea Tar Pits. As a “senior” at his school, the entire sixth grade class had been assigned an upcoming kindergartener as a “buddy” to help them adjust to full day elementary school. There had been many functions and events over the course of the school year to foster the relationships between the seniors and their buddies, but this was the first field trip away from the school. Henry and his buddy, Roland Loxley, were very excited because of their shared love of fossils and anything prehistoric. And the fact that Roland was going to be spending the weekend with them while his parents were out of town didn’t hurt either. Emma turned toward her son as he sat himself down at the table. “Nothing better than a good breakfast, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah Mom. I know.” The signature eye roll complete with shrugged shoulders made its way across the face of the twelve year old.

“Most of you probably didn’t even notice, but we had a small earthquake this morning. The US Geological Survey reported a 2.8 magnitude earthquake centered under Beverly Hills at 4:37am.”

“Why are they even talking about this? It didn’t even wake me up! Think fast Henry! What do you do in an earthquake?” Emma asked him, placing his plate in front of him.

“Get under a door frame, put my head between my legs, and kiss my ass goodbye.” Henry then dug in to his eggs and toast with all the gusto of a teen boy who hadn’t been fed in 8 hours or more. Emma rolled her eyes as she sat down to her own plate, deciding the argument over his language wasn’t worth having this morning. The eggs and the rest of his breakfast were soon gone and she wondered if the clothes she’d bought him for this spring would still fit him come the end of March.

“Gotta go Mom. I’ll call you when Roland and I get home from the field trip.” Henry grabbed his bookbag from where it was hung on his chair and made his way toward the door, opening it to find his friends waiting to walk to the bus with him.

“Bye, kid. Have fun and make sure to keep track of Roland!” she shouted as she heard him greet them before they headed down the hallway.

Gulping down the rest of her coffee, Emma got up from the table and thought about the day she had ahead of her at the Office of Emergency Management; the next-to-last day before a two week long vacation that she and Henry had been looking forward to for months. Putting the dirty dishes in the sink - They can wait to go in the dishwasher - Emma grabbed her purse and phone just as it started ringing. Emma’s best friend and assistant Ruby’s name flashed on the screen before she swiped across it.

“What’s up Rubes? Isn’t it a little early for you to be calling me?” Emma shut and locked the door behind her as she walked down the hall toward the elevator. “I’m getting in the elevator, so I’m gonna lose you here in a second. I’ll call you when I get in the car.” Emma hung up as Ruby sputtered. Once in her car and headed toward downtown, she dialed Ruby back.

“Emma,” Ruby didn’t even say hello, and the urgency in her voice was very apparent as Emma sped down the I-10. “There’s some kind of leak near the intersection of Wilshire and Fairfax. Where they’re working on the red line. Paramedics are on their way, but the supervisor of the work crew is saying that 2 men have very serious burns. He’s pretty shaken up Ems.”

Ruby’s words trailed off and Emma heard a disturbing sound coming from the other end of the line. “What’s that sound?”

“The supervisor,” Ruby replied with a tone of disgust. “Expelling what was left of his breakfast.”

Emma frowned. “I’ll be to the Fairfax exit in about 10 minutes. Load up WOLF and meet me there.”

“You got it boss,” Ruby replied before hanging up.

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

“What’s going on?” Emma shouted as she got out, slamming the door of her vintage yellow bug behind her.

Ruby pulled up right behind her in their equipment truck, affectionately nicknamed WOLF. Jumping out and taking long strides to catch up, Ruby commented, “Just before the call came in, the Geological Survey measured a 2.2 earthquake centered under the tar pits.”

Emma stopped, startled at what she had just said. “What? The tar pits?”

“Yeah,” Ruby replied. “Not enough to be felt, but close enough to here that maybe they’re connected?” Emma could feel the blood drain from her face, and based on the way Ruby was looking at her the she noticed it, too. Grabbing her arm, Ruby asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“What?” Emma shook her head. “Oh, Henry is going on his Kindergarten Buddy field trip to the pits today. An earthquake underneath them isn’t exactly what a mother wants to hear.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” her friend said. “I mean, after all, if we discover that there is any real danger to the public, we’ll shut down both the pits and museum. Come on. Let’s see if we can figure out what happened here.”

Emma and Ruby made their way to the crest of the hill where they saw orange work crew tape around the open maw of the entrance to the sewer and subway workstations down below. Off to the side they also saw emergency vehicles and paramedics working feverishly over a body that, from this distance, was unrecognizable as human. As they ran down the hill, they could already see a black body bag being zipped up. Just catching a glimpse of the charred body within was enough for Emma’s breakfast to roll in her stomach and for Ruby to lose hers completely. Swallowing down the bile, Emma asked, “What happened here?”

The white-as-a-sheet man wearing a supervisor’s vest turned toward her and seeing her department issued jacket, swallowed heavily before answering. “We’re doing routine maintenance on the red line. Munk, Ham, and Foster over there were down there with Ramirez and Franks.” If possible, the man before her went even more pale as he gestured toward the paramedics. “Kitchens and I were up here.” The man gulped again. “W-w-we could hear the screams from here.”

“I’m so sorry.” Emma laid her hand on the shaken man’s shoulder. “I truly am, but I have to figure out what happened here so I can direct city resources if need be.”

“You’d best talk to one of them then,” he replied, lifting his chin in the direction of the men he’d just mentioned. His wide, frightened eyes made their way back to where one of the paramedics was sitting back on her haunches.

“Time of death,” she said, glancing at her watch, “8:22 am.”

Emma made her way over to the men the supervisor had pointed out. “I’m Emma Swan from the Office of Emergency Management. Can you tell me what happened?”

The tall, sandy haired man pointed to himself then his companions, “Mark Munk, Hollis Ham, Sam Foster.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She grimaced, looking away. “Wish it was under better circumstances. What happened down there?”

“We were heading toward to maintenance platform. Franks and Ramirez were in front, then Ham and Foster, then me. It was hot. So hot.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he was relishing the cool morning air. “We couldn’t see much. All we had were our flashlights and helmets,” he trailed away, turning toward his companions.

Foster picked up the story then. “It was hot, but once we felt the earthquake stop, the heat was much worse.”

“You felt the earthquake? It was only 2.2!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yeah, we could feel it. Nothing major, but enough. Once it stopped, the heat really intensified. Franks and Ramirez were really having a hard time with it. It sounded like they were having trouble breathing, gasping and stuff, then they were hollering and fell down. It looked like they were trying to rip their clothes off. Ham and I grabbed them under their arms and dragged them back toward the ladder. It was so hot by then, none of us could hardly breathe.”

“We got back up topside,” Ham continued, “Hernandez had already called the paramedics.” His eyes widened as he saw the second body bag being zipped up over his coworker. “I’ve… I’ve never seen…” He turned away, hunched over as a barking sob escaped him.

Ruby had returned from cleaning herself up by this time, just as Ham finished his part of the tale. Emma turned toward her. “Ok, we need PPE and the thermal radiation temperature gun. We’ve got to go down there and see what’s what.”

“On it,” Ruby replied turning back toward the truck.

“Thank you very much gentlemen. You’ve been a great help.” She looked at each of them in turn. “I’m very sorry for the loss of your coworkers.”

Turning away from them, Emma headed back toward Ruby and WOLF. Arriving at the truck, Emma climbed in after Ruby as she was getting down the Personal Protection Equipment they’d need before they went underground. “It sounds like the earthquake may have had something to do with it, but whether it did or not, what those men felt down there, and was enough to kill two of them, certainly needs to be looked at.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna get any argument out of me, Emma.” The fear that Emma was also feeling was well banked behind the determination in the brunette’s eyes. Determination that Emma felt as well. “We can’t let this happen to anybody else.” Ruby took down the thermal radiation gun as she spoke, turning toward her friend.

“Agreed,” she said, “let’s go.”

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

“Damn! They weren’t kidding! What’s the temperature down here?” Emma shouted at Ruby as she made it to the bottom of the ladder.

“117° according to the gun,” Ruby hollered back.

“Ok, let’s go. I don’t know how far we can go before we have to turn back. This is something else!”

“No kidding! 132° and climbing fast!” Ruby shouted. She took a few steps forward. “I’ve got a reading here!” Shaking her head while studying the screen intently, Ruby said, “There’s some sort of fissure here. Gas and… something… I can’t tell what exactly… 748°!” Ruby’s eyes went as round as saucers. Her mouth falling open in an ‘o’. “EMMA! Back! Get back!” Ruby screamed, “Your suit is melting!”

Upon hearing Ruby’s scream, she noticed the smoke rising from both suits. “So is yours! We’ve gotta get out of here!” They both took off running toward the ladder; neither of them had realized they had moved about 15 feet away from its rungs. Reaching it, they both clamored to the top, collapsing onto the grass around the workstation.

Gulping in huge gasps of air as they tore off their helmets and suits, both women stared at each other wide eyed as Hernandez ran up toward them. “What?! What did you find? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re fine,” Emma answered, still breathing heavily. “There’s a fissure down there. Hot gas and something else coming up out of it.” Raising herself onto her elbows, she started pointing all around the park they were in. “This Park needs to be evacuated. The red line needs to be shut down from South La Brea Avenue to South Crescent Heights. And get me the Geological Survey on the line. A geologist. Someone who can tell me what the hell is going on down there!”

Ruby scrambled away down the hill as soon as she was recovered enough to move. “Yes ma'am!”

Emma collapsed back on to the grass, before making her way to her feet and down the hill herself. Emma shook her head. Well, my day just got about a hundred times more crazy. Henry and the group should be at the tar pits by now. Should we shut them down? No. We’re far enough away from them, there’s not a concern for their safety. Yet. I’ll wait until I talk to the Geological Survey. Then decide.

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

“Good morning! My name is Killian Jones, and I’ll be the docent leading your tour of the La Brea tar pits today.” Killian looked out over the sea of about thirty faces, some bored, some looking anywhere except at him, and maybe five or six looking at him at least halfway interested.

He enjoyed volunteering at the tar pits on his day off from the US Geological Survey. Especially when the kids were already in love with the things he was going to be talking about. I mean, how can you not love a kid who can correctly pronounce Paramylodon Harlani? The two brown haired boys at the front of the group however, stared at him with rapt attention. Brothers maybe?

“We’ll be starting our tour in just a few minutes. As soon as the group ahead of us moves through. In the meantime, feel free to look over the masks from the PaleoIndian village in the display case on your right.”

The crowd moved over to the case, all except the two boys who did not seem eager to lose their places at the front of the group. “I’m Roland Loxley,” the little one said holding his hand out for Killian to shake.

“Well, hello there Roland,” Killian answered, a grin breaking out over his face as he reached out to grasp his hand. The kid had a surprisingly strong grip for one so small. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your big brother?” he asked turning his attention to the older one.

Roland giggled and cut his eyes toward him as the older boy looked embarrassed. “No, he’s my buddy, Henry.”

“Oh, I see! It’s nice to meet you too, Henry,” Killian said, holding his hand out for him to shake as well. Henry looked a bit surprised as he took Killian’s hand in his own and shook.

“You too,” he replied. The glint he had noticed in the boy’s eye a few minutes earlier was back as he asked, “Do we get to go inside the fossil lab today?”

“Ah ha! Do we have a future paleontologist in our midst? Or a geologist maybe?” Killian’s delight at his speculation was hard to disguise as Roland looked to be prepping for takeoff, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hand in the air like Horseshack from Welcome Back Kotter, Killian’s favorite late night binge show on Hulu.

“Ooo! Ooo! Me! Me! Me! I’m gonna be a paleontologist when I grow up! I have my very own Smilodon fatalis tooth at home! And a fossilized Venerupis philippinarum! And a Carcharocles megalodon tooth too!” Roland exclaimed. Poor Henry looked absolutely mortified at Roland’s excitement.

“Roland, can’t you please shut up?” the boy hissed, glancing back at Killian apologetically.

“Ahh! A saber tooth cat, clam, and giant shark tooth, huh? Well, it looks like you’re well on your way to a brilliant future in paleontology my boy,” he said, placing his hand on Roland’s shoulder. Turning back to Henry, Killian returned to his original question as most of the group started making their way back towards them. “Unfortunately, we will not be going inside the fossil lab today, but we will observe some of our scientists working in it. We will be on the observation deck outside. We will also be visiting the Lake Pit, Observation Pit, Project 23, and the Pleistocene Gardens. After lunch, we’ll enjoy the Ice Age Encounters and Titans of the Ice Age in the 3D theater. Is everybody ready?” he asked, getting everyone’s attention again, “Let’s go!” Killian swung his arm expansively as though to draw them all along and turned on his heel leading the way toward the first stop of their tour.

“Sorry about Roland’s enthusiasm earlier,” Henry halfway mumbled after he caught up with Killian. “He’s a cute kid, and he loves anything prehistoric, but he just doesn’t know when to turn it off.” Henry shrugged, while glancing over at his buddy chattering a mile a minute about how much he was looking forward to seeing the Columbian mammoth skeleton named Zed. “I mean, I love fossils and the Ice Age too and even have my own collection at home, much bigger than his,” he rolled his eyes, then glanced over at Killian obviously trying to gauge how his revelation was being received, “but I can at least control myself so I don’t look like an idiot.”

Killian chuckled, realizing that Henry was just as excited and enthusiastic about this field trip as Roland was, and was maybe a teeny bit jealous at being overshadowed by someone he saw as not as well versed in Ice Age history.

Killian looked down at the boy as they kept walking toward the Observation Pit. “Well, Henry, he’s young. And over-the-top enthusiasm is par for the course at that age. But I get it. I have an older brother that wanted to put a muzzle on me on a daily basis whenever I’d get wound up over something when we were kids. But keep in mind, that you have the same interest in what he is so enthusiastic about. You are in a very unique position to encourage that love or to quash it. He obviously idolizes you.”

“Really?” Henry asked, wide eyed. “How do you know?”

“Haven’t you noticed how almost every time he opens his mouth, he’s looking at you?” Killian replied.

“Oh… no, I guess I hadn’t. Well, all right. I’ll try not to let his enthusiasm get to me so much then.” The pensive look on Henry’s face evaporated as he looked up at him and smiled.

“That’s the spirit, lad!” Killian returned the smile and placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze in support.

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

“What do you mean ‘he’s not there’?” Ruby shouted into the phone at the unfortunate underling who was bearing the full weight of her wrath at Dr. Killian Jones’ absence. “Where is he? Isn’t this his full time job? We have something major happening underneath the tar pits today, and he needs to be here! Not galavanting around on his ‘day off’!” Ruby put air quotes around ‘day off’ as if the person on the other end of the line could see them. “There are two city workers who are dead this morning and my boss and I were nearly killed as well because of whatever is going on down there! Does he have an assistant? Anyone who might know where he is?” The other end of the phone went silent for a moment while Ruby huffed out her frustration.

The phone was picked back up again and a masculine Irish accented voice spoke. “This is Graham Humbert, Killian’s assistant. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Ruby tried to roll back her irritation by taking a deep breath and beginning again. “This is Ruby Lucas, assistant to Emma Swan, director of the Office of Emergency Management. There is something going on under the tar pits. Something major. I’m sure you know about the earthquake a couple of hours ago. After it stopped, two city maintenance workers were killed because of leaking gas and something else, something burning that nearly melted Emma’s and my PPE suits off of our bodies. We need Dr. Jones down here to figure out what is coming up out of the fissure we found. Where can we find him?”

“He’s actually at the tar pits today,” Graham replied. “There was a huge school group coming today, and all docents were called up to work today. He normally volunteers on the weekend, but with the size of the group…” he trailed off.

“All right. Thank you very much for your help, Mr. Humbert.” Ruby was texting the information to Emma before she even hung up with the man.

“No problem, Ms. Lucas. Once you find him, I’m sure we’ll all be in touch.” The phone line went dead while Ruby continued to compose her message.

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

Emma had stayed at the park overseeing the evacuation and rerouting the red line to avoid as much disruption to the transit schedule as possible when Ruby’s text came in.

Dr. Killian Jones is at the tar pits today volunteering because of the field trip.

Glancing at her phone to see what Ruby had found out, Emma continued her litany. “This way. Thank you for your cooperation. Everything is perfectly safe, this is only a precaution. Thank you, this way please.” When she got to the end of the line, she jogged over to one of her coworkers. “The geologist we need is at the tar pits today. I’m going to head over there to find him.”

Taking off at a slight jog down the hill, Emma pondered what she would find at the tar pits when she got there. Will there be any sign of what’s going on over here? Or under there? Just how big was the tour group for the head geologist with the US Geological Survey to be called up to work when there’s this kind of activity going on?

When she arrived at the picnic area outside the museum it was filled to capacity with kids and adults enjoying lunch in the late winter sunshine. Scanning over the teeming area, she spotted Henry and Roland sitting with a very attractive dark haired man she didn’t recognize as another parent or their teacher. Henry spotted her and waved shouting, “Mom! Hey Mom! Over here!”

The man looked up at her and seemed to choke on his sandwich, turning bright red as he tried to bring the coughing fit under control. Henry turned surprised eyes on him as the man tried to wave aside his concern all while Roland stood up on the bench and was beating him, very enthusiastically, on the back.

“You okay, Killian?” Henry asked.

“Fine lad, just went down the wrong pipe,” he replied, still trying to get his breath back. The huskiness of the accented voice did something crazy to Emma’s insides, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the gorgeous man’s voice sounded similar in the throes of passion. Down girl, she thought as she approached the table. He had black hair that looked artfully mussed, or he may have just had a habit of running his hands through it. Dark scruff lined his jaw with just a hint of ginger that she could see from where she was. He looked tall and lean in dark jeans, brown boots, and a blue henley underneath a black leather jacket.

“Hi Henry. Who’s this?” And why are you having lunch with my son went unspoken as she turned her gaze upon him, sending him into another coughing fit, all while scratching behind his ear.

“This is Killian, our d-, do-...”

“Docent,” Killian rasped out. He had finally gotten his coughing and breathing under control enough to speak.

“Docent,” Henry echoed. “He’s leading our tour today. We saw the mammoth skeleton and the fossil lab, and Project 23, the actual working dig Mom! It was so cool! I’m gonna work there when I grow up!” he gushed.

“Aye,” Killian replied still clearing his throat, “it’s kids like them that make the volunteering so worthwhile. Bright, inquisitive, with enough knowledge already to really make it fun. And there’s been a lot of that today hasn’t there lads?” he asked. The grin that split Henry’s face told Emma all she needed to know about how his morning went.

Emma smiled at her son’s enthusiasm. “Well, it sounds like you’ve had a great time today, kid.” Emma turned toward Killian, who was also smiling widely at the boys before he turned his blue eyes upon her. Emma was stopped in her tracks as she recognized the joy and affection in their depths. Affection, she realized, that was directed toward the two boys next to him. She shook her head briefly to get her thoughts back on track. “Did he say your name was Killian? You wouldn’t by any chance be Dr. Killian Jones would you?” she asked.

“That’s me,” he replied. “Can I help you with something?” he asked, standing from the table and extending his hand toward her. His azure gaze ran up and down her form, leaving a pleasant tingle in its wake, but when his eyes met hers, she saw nothing but openness and appreciation in his gaze. Not the greedy lust that she was normally subject to when checked out like that. She appreciated the distinction.

Emma grasped his hand firmly in her own as she answered him. “Just the man I’m looking for.” Killian flushed bright red again at her statement as he glanced away from her. “Emma Swan with the Office of Emergency Management. I need you.” That last statement seemed to send him into yet another coughing fit before he was able to bring it back under control.

“You need me?” he squeaked, about an octave too high, his face still flushed red, eyes wide.

“Well, I need your expertise.” Emma was secretly delighted at his apparent attraction, but schooled her features as she prepared to drop a very serious problem in the handsome man’s lap. “There have been two small earthquakes today. The second of them was centered here at the tar pits and is most likely responsible for the deaths of two city workers this morning. My assistant and I found a fissure underground near MacArthur Park, and the heat coming out of it nearly melted the suits we had on. We need you to figure out what is coming out of that fissure and help us manage this.”

Killian blanched and sat back down at the table. “I can’t leave right now…” he trailed away, obviously trying to figure a way out of the dilemma. “The school group is too big. I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t hand my group off to another docent, and there’s no one to take my place. Let me get my assistant on the phone and see what he can do. I’ll be done here in about an hour and a half,” he said, glancing at his watch, “and I can join you… where, exactly?”

“At the Office of Emergency Management, across the street from City Hall,” Emma stated.

“Barring any mishaps along the way, I should be there about three,” Killian replied. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started dialing. “Graham, we have a situation down here at the tar pits. I need you to get to the Office of Emergency Management, across from City Hall and find-” he turned his eyes back toward Emma.

“Ruby Lucas, my assistant,” she whispered to him.

“Ruby Lucas… Right,” he said, after a pause to listen. “What’s her number,” he whispered back to her.

She wrote Ruby’s number on a napkin that he repeated back into the phone. “I’ll meet you all there as soon as I’m done here. Probably about three.” Killian paused again. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” Killian put the phone back in his pocket. “Graham will get down there and find your assistant. They can get preliminary data pulled up, and they’ll have a better idea of what we’re looking at by the time I get there.” Killian’s cerulean gaze met her own. The seriousness of the situation was not lost on either of them as Henry interrupted the unspoken moment.

“What’s happening, Mom? Did you say two workers died, and you nearly did because of what’s happening here?” Henry’s brown eyes were way too bright, Emma realized, for him to not have been affected by what he heard her say.

Damn… he always was too smart for his own good. I should have taken Killian aside before I talked to him. Well, there’s nothing for it... Emma placed her hands on his shoulders. Crouching before him and making sure he was looking in her eyes she answered, “Yes, but I’m fine, and Ruby is fine. We’re gonna do all we can to find out what’s going on here to make sure that no one else is hurt or killed. Okay?”

Henry nodded hesitantly. “O- okay, Mom. Be careful, alright?”

“Always, kid. I love you,” she said, pulling him into her arms and hugging him tight.

“I love you, too,” he murmured into her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, looking at her again.

“I don’t know, kid. It depends on what we find here. When you get home, call me first then Uncle David. He can come stay with you until I get home.” Emma got back on her feet and turned toward Killian as Henry whined.

“Mooooom! I’m twelve years old! I can-” the petulant face of the pre-teen nearly made her laugh, but she smothered it under a light cough. The smirk and raised eyebrows from Killian, indicating that her cough didn’t fool him for a minute, was almost her undoing.

“Exactly, you’re twelve years old and you’re not staying home by yourself for who knows how long.” Emma turned back toward Killian and said, “I’ll head over to the office too, and see you there about three. Let me give you my number, in case something happens and we need to get in touch.” Emma held out her hand expectantly.

A glimmer of glee flashed in Killian’s eyes as he got his phone back out and handed it over to her to type in her number. “Sure, and I’ll only use it in case of an emergency. Although,” he lowered his voice and moved more into her personal space as she typed, "I do hope that when this is all concluded, you might let me keep your number to use in a more... personal fashion."

Emma looked up and handed his phone back to him with a smirk of her own. “We’ll see, Casanova. Take care of my kid. I’ll see you later. Bye Henry. Have fun.” Emma turned away from them and walked away. And if she injected just a slight swing to her hips for Killian’s benefit, then no one needed to know that but her.

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

Killian watched as Emma walked away from him with a swing in her hips that made him grin from ear to ear as he enjoyed the view. Turning back to his group, he called, “Okay everyone. Time to clean up. Make sure all your trash is collected and thrown away. Let’s leave the picnic area better than when we found it.” After cleaning up, the group marched back in to the museum to continue their prehistoric adventure with Ice Age Encounters and Titans of the Ice Age, the 3D movie.

After the movie, Henry and Roland were chattering excitedly with Killian smiling down at them when the ground beneath them started to shake. Killian turned quickly toward the group and shouted to be heard above the din of the shaking building.

“Everyone come over here, follow me, cover your heads with your arms. Adults, cover your own heads and get kids underneath you as best you can.”

Killian led them all to the wall next to the glass case they had examined that morning containing the masks from the PaleoIndian village. As they reached the wall, a particularly violent tremble sent Roland careening forward into the display case. His forehead connected with the corner of the case as the trembling in the earth started to taper off. Roland’s cries were more than enough to compensate for the sudden lack of rumbling underneath them. Killian grabbed Roland up, cradling him in his arms as he looked for where all the blood was coming from.

“Is he okay Killian? Will Roland be okay?” Henry’s scared voice piped up from beside him.

“If his cries are any indication, he’ll be just fine, Henry. We need to get him cleaned up and get some ice on the cut. If he needs stitches, we’ll make sure he gets to the hospital.” Killian turned his back to the door of the bathroom and pushed his way through it, as Roland’s cries only increased in volume, maybe at the prospect of stitches. “Go to the main desk, Henry, and ask for Belle, tell her what happened and that she needs to enact emergency contact protocols for Roland, then ask for an ice pack.” Given his marching orders, Henry disappeared through the door as one of the parents in his group pushed his way in.

“The tour is over right, Killian?” the frightened man asked. “We’re done? Free to go?”

Killian was wetting a paper towel to clean off Roland’s face, as he turned to the man. “Yes, that’s correct. Thank you for your time and attention today. If you would spread the word to the rest of the group, I’d appreciate it,” he said, turning his attention back to the boy. As he got the blood wiped away from his charge’s face, he saw a long, jagged cut just above Roland’s left eyebrow. Henry made his way back into the bathroom with a bag full of ice just then and handed it to the boy. Killian noticed Belle hovering just outside the bathroom.

“Here, put this where it hurts Roland. You’ll be fine,” Henry said, reassuringly.

“Aye, lad. Just a cut. But it looks like it’ll need stitches. I’ll be right back after I talk to Belle.” Killian’s calm gaze was doing a lot to settle both boys down after the fright they’d had.

Killian stood in the bathroom doorway as Belle began, “I’ve contacted Roland’s parents, but after dropping him off at school this morning, they left town for the weekend. He’s staying with Henry and his mother until they get back on Sunday. They gave their consent to go to the hospital if he needs stitches, but I can’t find anyone from the school to take him in all the chaos.”

“Don’t worry about that, Belle. I’ll take him to Cedars Sinai. My mate’s wife works in the Emergency Room. She’s a doctor.”

“Really?” Henry, overhearing, turned wide eyes upon Killian. “My aunt works at the Cedars Sinai Emergency Room too. Maybe they know each other.”

Killian chuckled, “Aye lad. Maybe. Okay. Let’s go.”

Roland’s tears had been reduced to occasional hiccups as Killian hoisted him off the counter. Holding out his hand for the little boy to take, Killian led them out of the building toward the parking lot. He unlocked his classic SS Chevelle and ushered the boys inside, admonishing them to buckle their seat belts before heading toward the hospital.

About ten minutes later they were pulling up outside the Emergency Room bay. Henry and Roland, still with the ice pack pressed to his forehead, climbed out while Killian left to park the car. When he joined them a few minutes later, they made their way inside to the admit desk.

“We’re looking for Dr. Mary Margaret Nolan,” Killian informed the nurse at the desk. He didn’t notice Henry’s wide eyed stare as he spoke.

“She’s with a patient right now, sir. May I ask what this is in regards to?” the red haired nurse questioned him.

“She’s my friend’s wife and-”

“And she’s my aunt,” Henry exclaimed. Killian turned stunned eyes on the boy. The nurse turned her attention to him as well.

“Really?” he questioned.

“Yeah! I told you my aunt worked here in the ER,” he laughed as he realized how low the chances of this happening really were. Killian and the nurse joined in as well.

“Hi, Henry! Who’s this? And what do you need M’s for?” the nurse asked.

“Hi, Ariel!” Henry waved from where he stood. “This is Killian. He led our tour of the La Brea tar pits today. Roland, my buddy here, fell into a display case during the earthquake and Killian thinks the cut needs stitches. Did I say all that right, Killian?” His brown eyes turned upward, brimming with hope that he hadn’t left out anything important.

“Aye, lad. You sure did.” He turned back to the nurse. “Can we see Mary Margaret about those stitches? Or at least let her have a look at him?” he asked.

“Oh sure,” she replied. “Come on through here, and I’ll send her in as soon as she’s done with her patient.”

Just at that moment, a petite black haired woman came out of a door further down, making notations on her iPad.

“Oh, there she is now,” Ariel said to the man and boys behind her.

“Aunt M’s!” Henry shouted, startling the poor woman into nearly dropping the iPad. Henry took off down the corridor toward his aunt as she looked up and saw him running towards her.

“Henry! What are you doing here? And Killian, too,” she exclaimed as she saw them all making their way down the hall.

“A little accident during the earthquake, Mary Margaret,” Killian said amusedly as Henry tackled her, forcing an “oof” out of his target.

“Yeah, we had our buddy field trip to the tar pits today, Aunt M’s,” Henry enthused. “It was so cool, and Killian was our...” he trailed off, looking back at the man he was with.

“Docent, lad,” Killian filled in for him with an indulgent smile.

“Docent. Right. I won’t forget again, Killian.” Henry looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure you won’t.” Killian chuckled along with Mary Margaret as she showed them into an empty room. “Roland here fell into a display case during the earthquake and sustained quite a nasty cut on his forehead that looked like it might need stitches,” he continued.

“Well, let’s have a looksee, shall we?” she asked, smiling down at the little boy, as she lifted him to the table. Directing her next words to Henry, she inquired, “Did you call your mom? Does she know you’re here?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “No, I haven’t.”

“Don’t worry about it, Henry. I’ll take care of it,” Killian assured him, “I was supposed to be heading to your mum’s office right now anyway. I’ll let her know what happened, and we’ll go from there.” Killian sent a reassuring smile his way.

“Okay, Killian. Thanks,” Henry replied. Killian slipped out and pulled out his phone dialing Emma’s number.

“Hello?” Emma’s beautiful voice came over the line, causing Killian’s breath to catch just the tiniest bit before he answered her back.

“Emma, it’s Killian Jones. We’ve had a bit of an accident during the earthquake,” he reported, trying to keep his voice as level as possible to keep her alarm to a minimum.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “Is Henry okay?”

“Henry is fine,” he assured the frightened woman. “It was Roland. He fell into a display case, causing a nasty cut to his forehead. We’re all at Cedars Sinai with Roland being seen by none other than your sister-in-law, Mary Margaret Nolan. Who is also my friend’s wife. And, who I gather, must be your brother.” Killian had remembered Emma telling Henry at lunch to call his Uncle David when he got home. When Henry’s relations had come to light, Killian had put two and two together to figure out exactly who belonged to who. Emma laughed delightedly.

“Oh my word! Who would have guessed? That’s hysterical!” Emma declared, trying to bring her laughter under control. Her laugh was infectious and Killian found himself joining in.

“It is. What are the odds, eh?” Killian said, sending her off into more laughter, as he chuckled. “Anyway, what do you want me to do with the boys? I still need to get down there to see what Graham and Ruby have discovered.” Just the mention of the reason behind their meeting and this phone call was enough to bring an end to their mutual mirth.

“Have David pick them up at the hospital and take them home. You or Henry can call him. I know he had meetings about the apartments today, but he should be done with them by now. Then you head down here,” Emma replied. “Ruby and Graham have a very interesting theory that I’m not sure what to think about, but would love your input on.” Killian could almost see the blonde shrug her shoulders through the phone line.

“Okay, love. Mary Margaret is probably about done. I’ll leave here as soon as she is and David gets here. I’ll text when I’m on my way.” Killian hung up and walked back into the room where Henry, Roland, and Mary Margaret were. Henry and Roland sounded like a tag team as they peppered the woman with stories about their day as she finished stitching Roland up. “Henry, I’m going to call your Uncle David to come pick you boys up and take you home. Then I’m going to go meet your mum and we’re going to figure out what’s going on and take care of it, aye?” Killian asked nodding at the boy.

“Sure, Killian. Thanks a lot, for everything,” the boy replied.

“Yeah, thanks Killian,” echoed Roland.

Turning to the boys, Mary Margaret told them, “Stay here. I’m going to go talk to Killian. Uncle David will be here in just a few minutes. He was just across the street at the apartments he’s been working on.” She followed him out into the hallway, forehead furrowed in concern. “What’s this about meeting Emma? What’s going on, Killian? Thank you, by the way though, for taking care of the boys through all this.”

“Oh, of course, M’s,” he answered, putting special emphasis on the syllable while raising his eyebrows at her and grinning.

“Oh, pfft,” she said waving him off, and looking away with a light blush coloring her cheeks. “Mary Margaret was too much for Henry to say when he was a toddler. So we shortened it to M’s and it stuck. Only for family and close friends though,” she said, side-eyeing him closely. “Ehh… I guess you count.” She smirked at him before reiterating her question.

“I’ll have to fill you in on the details later M’s.” Killian’s face fell. “Suffice it to say two men are dead, and Emma was nearly killed today too because of some seismic activity underneath the tar pits.”

The tender-hearted woman gasped, her hand covering her mouth and eyes filling with tears. “Oh, no!”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Killian replied. “So, I need to get down to her office to see what’s going on, and what we can do about it.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret agreed. “You go ahead and go. I’ll take charge of the boys until David gets here. Tell Emma to keep us updated. I’m off in another hour, so I’ll probably go home with them.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he answered winking at her. “Do you want to call David or do you want me to?”

“I’ll call him. I need to let him know what’s going on anyway.” She pulled out her phone and started dialing. “Thank you, though. Really. It means a lot.” She made sure he was looking at her face so he could see how much she meant the words she was saying.

Killian looked at her, but had to look away from the tenderness and conviction behind her words. “Of course. They really are remarkable lads. They remind me very much of myself and Liam when we were young. I couldn’t do anything different. I’ll see you later.” Before he turned and walked away toward the entrance, he heard David pick up over Mary Margaret’s phone.

“Hey babe! What’s up?”

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

Killian made his way into the Control Center of the Office of Emergency Management amid all the chaos that the day’s events engendered. Spying the long blonde hair that he desperately wanted to run his fingers through, he made his way over to where she, Graham, and the woman he assumed was Ruby Lucas were huddled over a computer monitor and a paper city map of the area around the tar pits. “What have we got?” he asked.

Emma turned startled eyes upon him, “Uh… oh! You’re here. Ruby,” she said, motioning to the tall brunette, “Dr. Killian Jones. Killian, Ruby Lucas, my assistant and right hand.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Jones.” Ruby grinned at him with a wolfish smile as she held out her hand toward him.

“Please, call me Killian. No one calls me Dr. Jones except members of the media,” Killian chuckled as he shook her hand.

“And me, if he’s being especially obnoxious,” Graham interjected, grinning at him, before it melted into more of a shy, sincere smile as he turned his eyes upon Ruby.

“And Graham, if I’m being especially obnoxious,” Killian repeated with humor dancing in his eyes. “So, what have you found out?”

“Okay,” Ruby began, “the last earthquake was a 4.9. That’s up significantly from the earthquakes this morning. Including the one that killed those workers. We may be building up to a catastrophic tremor.”

“Or,” Graham prompted, with a grim expression.

Emma looked at Killian with an expression that had him bracing himself. It was pensive and incredulous all at once. As if she had trouble believing what was about to be said herself, much less saying it out loud as a viable possibility. “What?” Killian asked, “Just tell me.”

Emma started rather haltingly, “The second earthquake this morning opened a fissure in the subway tunnel. Incredibly hot gas and something else, something… liquid… kinda, was coming up out of it by the time Ruby and I got there. After the workers were killed.” She cast dubious eyes toward Graham before continuing. “The temperature reading of the lake in MacArthur Park and underneath the tar pits has increased significantly in the last twelve hours. The lake 6°, the tar pits 10°. Graham says the only thing capable of producing the kind of heat that we saw under MacArthur Park and that could heat that much liquid by that amount in that short a time is…” she trailed off.

Killian and Graham’s eyes met over the ladies. “Magma,” they said together. “Magma would explain the extreme heat you both felt this morning,” Killian continued, “capable of killing two men with no protective gear, and raising the temperatures of the lake and tar pits to that extent that quickly.” He shook his head. “Damn. Have we got our work cut out for us,” he murmured, looking around the room.

“Can’t it be something else?” Emma asked, placing her hand on his arm. Killian tried to ignore the shiver her touch generated across his skin. “Anything else? Do we really need to declare a state of emergency and evacuate that entire sector? That’s a massive undertaking,” she exclaimed.

“The first thing we need to do is confirm. Get a first hand look at what is going on down there. From there, we make the call to evacuate or not and mobilize city resources,” Killian stated.

“You can’t go down there Killian.” The fear in her eyes was palpable. “Ruby and I have already been down there. We nearly died down there. We saw and felt it. I know magma makes the most sense given the facts, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s… it’s MAGMA! As in, a VOLCANO! UNDER Los Angeles! It CAN’T be!”

“When the facts all point to a certain thing, even if that certain thing should be impossible, we have to go with the impossible,” Killian asserted. He shook his head. “We have to follow the facts. We can’t try to make the facts fit our preconceived notions.”

“But-”

“No, Emma. There is no ‘but’. This is the conclusion that the facts are leading us to. This is what we have to go with. There is no other possibility. Graham and I will go down to confirm what we’re seeing here. We’ll be in constant contact by radio. Our equipment is more suited to handle the kind of temperatures we may find down there. We’ll be fine,” he said, grasping her arms and looking into her eyes. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving, love. We won’t do anything stupid.”

Emma snorted before looking up into his piercing blue gaze. “You know, the argument could be made that what you’re suggesting is stupid,” she said with a frown and a determined set to her shoulders. “But I’m not letting you go down there by yourself.”

“I won’t be by myself. Graham will be with me,” Killian replied.

“No, Graham needs to stay here to analyze the data in real time,” Emma argued, “Ruby can mobilize the city resources under my authority. But Graham is gonna be the one to pull the trigger on whether we need to or not.” Her flashing eyes and stubborn stance told Killian that he was likely to lose this battle, but he put up a fight anyway. He didn’t want her anywhere near what might be happening.

“It’s too dangerous, love. If Graham is right, I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.” He poured the concern he felt for her into his eyes, hoping that she would read it. He saw a flash of hesitation in hers before the stubbornness he had already witnessed settled back in place. “You said yourself that you saw and felt what was down there already-”

“And you said that your equipment is better suited for the temperatures you might find down there,” Emma retorted, “The thermal gun said 748° when we turned back.”

“Our equipment is rated up to 1000°.” Killian tried again.

“Well then, there you go.” Emma crossed her arms, her smug attitude telling him he had lost. “Graham has to stay here and you’re not going by yourself. I have training. I am the best choice.”

“Fine,” Killian acquiesced, after a long moment, his lips pressed in a thin line, “but you listen up and listen good,” he said, getting in her personal space and pointing his finger at her, “I am the boss down there. Not you. You do exactly as I say, when I say it.” While he felt successful in keeping the fear from tingeing his words, he was afraid that he was unable to keep it out of his eyes. She must have noticed because she tried to inject some levity into the situation.

“Aye aye, sir,” she said, with a smart salute and smirk. Killian rolled his eyes as he tried not to smile and turned back toward Graham and Ruby.

Just at that moment, the ground started to shake again. Killian and Graham grabbed the ladies as they all tried to cover their heads and dive under the desks. Emma clutched at Killian as he drew her into his embrace and tried to cover her with his body. Once the shaking stopped, they all came out from their cover and made their way quickly to where the readings for the earthquake were already coming up. “4.6,” Killian said, turning toward the others. “Not as bad as the one a little while ago, but significant all the same.” Emma and Ruby exchanged worried glances before looking back at Killian. “This changes nothing,” Killian asserted, “We still have to go underground and confirm what is happening. We’ll drop off more sensors at the tar pits on our way to MacArthur Park, then head underground where you found the fissure this morning. Graham’s computer will be connected remotely with my suit and equipment.”

“Right,” Ruby replied, looking at the man next to her with a tentative, but genuine smile. “And we’ll still be able to communicate?” she asked, turning back toward Killian.

“Yes,” he answered. “We have radios in the suit that will allow us to talk back and forth through the computer. Everything from the suit will show up right here in real time. Ready, Swan?” he asked.

“Ready,” she answered, nodding.

“Alright, let’s suit up.”

End of part 1

#krystal wrote a thing #krystal wrote another thing #i still can't believe i wrote one thing #much less another #state of emergency #part 2 will be up Tuesday

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

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Desdichado: 15/16

When I posted this latest chapter on Ao3, I was shocked to see that I started this story way back in October of 2017. How is that possible? Well, finally here we are nearing the end of this Ivanhoe inspired fic.

I am going to confess an unpopular opinion: I was disappointed with the whole “no one saves me but me” thing in the CS movie. I actually yelled at the TV, “just let him save you!!!” Call me old-fashioned, but there’s something so romantic about the hero swooping in to save the day. So, here I fulfill my fantasy of Killian rushing to the rescue (plus that’s the way it happens in Ivanhoe, so . . . ). And yeah, I put him on a white horse. Fight me if you want, I don’t care.

Chapter summary: Emma has been sentenced to be burned at the stake for witchcraft. Unless, of course, a champion comes to fight on her behalf . . .

Words: 2,000 and some change

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Baelfire and Killian have to fight to the death. To. The. Death. And death in a sword fight in Medieval times? It wasn’t pretty. So, be prepared . . .

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @kday426 @thislassishooked @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @mythologicalmango @wellhellotragic @shireness-says @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @optomisticgirl @distant-rose

Chapter Fifteen

Killian respected his king, he truly did, but David was also like a brother to him as much as Liam had been. They had fought side by side in desperate situations, and as such, Killian wasn’t afraid to speak forthrightly with his friend, brother, and king.

“I must be her champion, Killian, she’s my sister!”

“And you are King!”

“Exactly, so obey me, knight! You’re still not fully healed!”

“I am well enough to fight for the woman I love!”

“You are impossibly stubborn!”

“And you are filled with foolish pride!”

“Actually,” another voice cut through their arguing, “I’d say your both acting like petulant children.”

Killian turned, mouth falling open to see a familiar face. Yet the woman standing in the doorway looked vastly different from the bandit he remembered fighting by his and David’s side as they made their journey across the continent. Her dark hair had hung loose and snarled then, but now it was swept up in loose curls with a tiara nestled above her brow. Her pale skin looked even more like alabaster in a bright blue gown which brought out the sparkle in her green eyes.

“Snow - I -”

“Killian,” David said, clapping him once on the shoulder before striding to the woman in the doorway, “I’d like to introduce my wife, Queen Snow.”

The woman tipped her face up with a smile to welcome David’s soft kiss. Killian was still speechless, but he recovered himself enough to give a deep bow and a mumbled “your majesty.” Snow laughed as she hurried forward to embrace him.

“Enough of that silly formality,” she scolded good-naturedly.

“When did the two of you wed?” Killian asked, then punched his friend in the shoulder with mock anger. “And why was I not called upon to be your best man?”

“It was a quiet ceremony at the lake with Sir Lancelot officiating,” Snow explained, wrapping an arm around her husband’s waist.

“We managed to get my mother out of the palace without James knowing. For her safety, of course -”

“which was why we married when we did,” Snow finished for her husband, “everything with the kingdom being so fragile, we knew the right moment would never come. So it was just Queen Ruth and the two of us.”

Killian beamed, happy for his friends. “This is wonderful news! This will further solidify peace in the kingdom with Snow defeating the uncle who tried to usurp her own throne.”

“Yes,” Snow agreed with a happy sigh, “our kingdoms united, peace between Normans and Saxons, it’s the dawn of a beautiful new day.”

“Except that my sister’s life is still in danger!”

“Not if you’ll stop arguing and let me go be her champion!”

Snow rolled her eyes and lifted both her gloved hands, resting one on each man’s chest. “Now now, boys, please. Since neither of you can listen to reason, I shall.” She turned first to her husband, placing her palms on his chest. “Darling, you have just reclaimed your throne, and you have a brother to try for treason. You cannot leave now.”

“You’re taking his side?”

“The side of reason, remember?” Snow corrected, cupping David’s face gently.

“See, listen to your wife, David,” Killian quipped, earning him a glare from his friend.

“But he’s injured!”

“Now, David,” Snow said calmly, “you’ve seen him fight in much worse shape than this. Besides, he has love on his side.”

“I have love on my side,” Killian reiterated with a firm nod of his head.

“And if he dies, we still have a king.”

“And if I die – hey! Wait a second, Snow!”

The queen chuckled as she turned to her old friend. She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead in a motherly fashion.

“I believe in you, Killian, you know that. I can never resist teasing you, though.” She embraced him then and whispered fervently, “Please save her. David would never get over it if he lost her now.”

“Nor would I,” Killian whispered back. Then he stepped back, dropped to one knee, and lowered his head to the King and Queen. He placed his fist against his heart. “To you I pledge my fealty,” he told them solemnly, “I will not fail. I will bring back Princess Emma safely.”

“God go with you,” David said around the obvious lump in his throat. He loved his sister dearly, even though they had never met. But as Killian rose, and he saw the determination in his eyes, he knew his wife had chosen rightly. Sir Killian did know his sister, better than anyone perhaps, and loved her fiercely. He had no doubt he would bring Emma home.

*****************************************************

Emma stumbled as she was dragged out into the courtyard by two Knights of the Templar, and the one grasping her right elbow wrenched it as he righted her with a jerking motion. She blew at the hair that had fallen across her face, since her hands were tied behind her back. A cold dread filled her veins at the sight before her: the stake that she would soon be tied to rising imposingly to the heavens, wood piled up all around it. She pressed her eyes closed and prayed for strength, and when she opened them, she tilted her chin defiantly as she met Sir Gold’s eyes across the courtyard. He was reclining in a brocade setee on a balcony with a bowl of berries and cream at his side, as if he were enjoying a pleasant day of jousting and not an execution. She would not give him the pleasure of showing fear.

Emma was shoved up onto the wood pile. There was no chivalry towards her fairer sex now as one knight shoved her against the stake and the other roughly tugged the ropes free at her wrists. She could feel the sting where the ropes had rubbed her wrists raw. Before she knew it, the knights had yanked her arms behind the stake and tied them once again with the rope. Splinters from the wood poked through the fabric of her dress. One of the knights leered at her straining bosom, and Emma spit truculently in his face. He raised his hand and struck her hard across the face, splitting her bottom lip. She touched it delicately with the tip of her tongue, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

“Enough!” Sir Gold shouted from the balcony as he rose to his feet. “Emma Swan, you have been accused of witchcraft. If you wish, now is the opportunity to plead for mercy from the Lord our God.”

“I will do no such thing,” Emma shouted defiantly, “for I am innocent!”

Sir Gold narrowed his eyes. “So be it.”

He motioned towards the edge of the courtyard, and Sir Baelfire stepped forward. Emma had to admit that for all the knight’s faults, he looked truly devastated to see her tied to the stake. As was the custom, Sir Gold announced the next formality in the “trial.”

“Sir Baelfire is prepared to meet any knight in combat who wishes to act as Emma Swan’s champion! If any knight here believes her to be innocent of the charges, he may step forward. However, this knight must accept that it is a fight to the death. If the champion stands victorious, it will be considered a sign of mercy from God, and the accused will be released.”

A long, eerie silence descended upon those gathered. Emma never expected a champion to stand up for her, of course. The only Templar Knight with any motivation to do so was Sir Baelfire, and he was under his father’s thumb. Sir Gold was merely going through the motions, and everyone knew it.

“Light it!” he commanded, and the two knights who had tied Emma up came forward with torches.

Emma looked up to the heavens, pressing her eyes shut against the terror that welled up within her. She had never seen a prisoner burned at the stake, she personally thought watching an execution was the sign of a depraved soul, but she had heard that it could take a long time for the person to die. The flames would lick at her feet and legs first, causing excruciating pain. Then they would crawl up her body, and most likely she would be screaming in agony, praying that smoke would fill her lungs to suffocate her and put her out of her misery. Could she be brave in the face of such torment?

Just before the torch could touch the pyre, there was the thundering sound of galloping horses and loud shouts. Emma raised her head, and her heart soared as she saw a company of knights entering the courtyard, bearing her family’s colors and crest. Moreover, Sir Killian led the charge atop a pure white steed. He was dressed in full armor, save for the helmet. His dark hair blew in the wind, his blue eyes ablaze with intensity as he shouted out his purpose.

“I will be Emma Swan’s champion!”

His eyes locked on Emma as he swung down from his horse, but Emma couldn’t help her tiny frown of concern. It probably wasn’t evident to anyone else, but she caught the slight wince of pain upon his face and noted how it took half a beat for him to gain his footing. He wasn’t fully healed! What was he thinking charging in like this?

He tore his gaze from hers and kneeled before Sir Gold. “I come to fight on this woman’s behalf.”

Sir Gold scowled, disappointment clear upon his face that his macabre entertainment had been delayed. “You believe her innocent?”

“I do.” His words, however, were not aimed at the man before him. He turned his head, his gaze burning into Emma’s. She saw emotions there she had not dared to hope for, and she almost choked on the way it pierced her heart. Yet wasn’t he promised to Lady Aurora? She obviously would no longer be forced to wed wicked Prince James. Emma bit her lip, forcing down the hope welling up inside. His heart was not his to give, and even if it were, there was no guarantee that the two of them would get out of this alive.

Sir Gold snapped his fingers at his son, and Sir Baelfire strode forward. There was no unsteadiness to his gait, no wince of pain subtly lining his face. He suddenly seemed so large and broad in comparison to Sir Killian’s slight frame, and fear welled up in Emma’s heart. She glanced down at the knight still gripping the fiery torch. He leered at her, clearly expressing his belief that the fire would still be lit, that this was but a mere diversion.

Both knights slid their helmets over their heads and pulled their swords from their scabbards. Sir Baelfire paced back and forth, glaring at his sworn enemy. His father repeated the proclamation that the fight must be to the death. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sir Baelfire surged forward with a shout. Emma had wondered if his affections for her might sway the fight, but clearly his hatred for Sir Killian and his own self-preservation was worth far more to the man.

Killian raised his shield to block the blow and parried. Most knights were cumbersome and stiff in their armor, but Sir Killian fought differently. His armor had been forged by a talented Arab smith in the Holy Land and was fashioned in more of the Eastern style; lighter and less restrictive. Many of his fellow knights scoffed at the lack of protection, namely at the back of his legs and over his arms, but Killian found his fighting form was far better and more than made up for it. He spun, slashing at Sir Baelfire’s legs. Though the other man’s armor protected him from the blade, the heaviness of the iron encasing him sent him sprawling to his back. Killian leapt up and swung downward at his enemy. Sir Baelfire rolled away easily from the strokes of the blade and rose once again to his feet.

The two knights were complementary in their fighting styles; when one gained the upper hand, the other quickly compensated. Killian couldn’t deny it, he felt his strength waning. He struggled to his feet after yet another blow from Sir Baelfire’s broadsword, catching Emma’s eyes. Her lips were pressed together, her face pale, her forehead creased with worry. He could see it in her eyes; she was more concerned for him in the moment than herself. He took deep breaths, love for this incredible woman filling every corner of his soul. With it came a strength he didn’t know he possessed, and he swung with feral rage at his adversary. The hilt of his sword connected with Baelfire’s head with incredible force, and the man twisted sideways, hitting the ground with a dull thud. His helmet went flying from his head, tumbling through the dirt. Killian followed, kicking him repeatedly until the man was forced to tear way his chest plate so he could breathe. He rose to his knees, bruised and bloodied, and Killian was shocked when the man locked eyes with him.

“Finish me,” he said in a low voice, and the look in his eyes made Killian pause as he lifted his sword. “You heard me. Finish me! Save her!”

Sir Baelfire closed his eyes in resignation, and with a heavy heart, Killian swung his sword to deliver the fatal blow. As Sir Baelfire’s decapitated body hit the dirt, a cry of rage rose from the Knights of the Templar. Killian stumbled to his knees, trembling from the violent end of the battle as he yanked off his helmet. He never relished taking a life, yet knew it was sometimes necessary.

“Killian!”

Emma’s terrified scream broke through his melancholy, and his eyes flew open. His heart plummeted to see flames licking at the outer logs of Emma’s pyre. She twisted, trying to release herself from her bonds, sheer terror lighting her eyes. Killian shouted her name, then rushed for his horse. He swung up easily, all fatigue from the battle fleeing in the face of Emma’s immediate danger. He put the animal into a gallop immediately, racing for his love. Templar knights attacked, but Killian’s own company joined him in the fray. Killian was like a man possessed, slaying everyone in his path to get to Emma.

The flames still hadn’t crawled high enough to reach her, yet Emma blinked against the heat and coughed as smoke billowed up. His horse reared as Killian reached the pyre, but he spurred the beast on. He slashed at her bonds with his sword, and as soon as she was free, he reached a hand out for her to take. He swung her up into the saddle in front of him, knowing the danger was far from over. His armor clad body would hopefully shield her from any arrows. He urged his steed towards the gates, yelling for his company to retreat.

As they galloped forward, Emma screamed as she saw the portcullis being lowered, but Killian only sped onward. She shut her eyes tight as they made it through just in time. The drawbridge was also being raised, but Killian’s horse easily made the jump, and judging by the whoops and cheers as they sped off into the forest, so had the rest of his company. The whizzing of arrows had also ceased.

Behind her, Killian’s body relaxed. He re-sheathed his sword and brought his other arm around her tightly. He bent his head to bury his nose in her hair and ghost his lips over the shell of her ear. His hair was damp with sweat, his body exuding almost as much heat as the pyre they had left behind. His musky, battle scent made her blood thrum.

“Praise be to God I got there in time,” he whispered, voice husky with emotion.

Emma had so many questions. Why had he come? What about Aurora? Why was he holding her so close, whispering in her ear? What did it all mean?

But for now, she banished the questions and relaxed in his embrace as the swaying of the horse beneath them lulled her into a long-needed sleep.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs historical au #cs medieval au #knight!killian #cs ivanhoe au

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callistochan87 · 6 years ago

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ly fewelp, I’m only a little bit behind now, bonus

if I were smart I’d try to steal away time at coffee breaks and lunch buuut that doesn’t always work when there’s other people around (and there are usually others around). i don’t work well with others around, asking questions and bothering me

also i like eating lunch

Day 13, Konnie and Serena (Alpha): I was really confused why @erinhime83 put these two together, since all the weekend pairs are either couples, friends, or some other understandable grouping (siblings, I guess?) Then she reminded me there had been a Thing near the end with the two of them, and I was confused because I didn’t remember that, so I went to check.

Nothing there.

I was ???

Then I went to check the first version. The first version has all of the elements of CS that I actually like and that somehow wound up getting cut in the second draft rewrite, like Thanatos Omega getting brutally murdered and Thanatos Delta going insane about it. (There are a couple of elements of the second draft that I like, like Thanatos Omega kidnapping Christine and Eric without them even realizing it, because Thanatos Omega isn’t stupid, he knows Thanatos Prime sets incredibly easy password questions, so it’s really easy to trick them into thinking they’re going with another version of him.)

But I think the first version is--for the most part--the superior version. The only reason I wanted to rewrite was to incorporate more aliens into the research team on Veive (Chidyl and Dr. Max, mostly), mostly to give a sense that there were more than two species out there and that this was some proper interstellar civilization. Sure, they’re minor characters, not much happened with them at all, but they were there, and you will take my crotchety old man cat alien doctor from my cold, dead hands

But the major plot points were better executed in the first version.

Except for the ending. The ending was one thing I had trouble with, because it pretty explicitly incorporates @erinhime83‘s Earthia universe into it. Which is fine for a story that won't see the light of day, but might screw me over if I ever tried to publish, self- or otherwise. (I keep saying this. I want it to be published, but not enough to actually do it.)

The actual concept is fine enough: Amina actually does what she intends to do and discovers a new dimension/timeline that’s so different from the one they know (the mythical “Elders”, which totally are not the “angels” from Sixth Epoch in a new name, at all, never left the planet and never stopped interfering--the Erebians are at constant war with them, and the few humans remaining are mostly their slaves/science experiments, hardly enough to make a co-civilization) that they can’t use their shared ciltural knowledge to figure out what’s going on, because this new timeline does not share the same history. If Prime, Delta, and Omega are essentially the same “basic” history up until a certain point, when things start diverging, then this new universe forked off long before them and went in a radically different direction.

But of course, the issue is that I explicitly brought in Earthia’s Alliance into it: in this universe, Erebus (and, I suppose by extension, Veive) is a part of the Cosmic Alliance of Worlds, the sort of “bad guy” (not really) equivalent to the Helian Federation of Planets. I’d hinted at it in the original story, where they were frequently contacted by the “Thanatians” wishing them to join their alliance, and every civilization there was pretty adamant that they weren’t going to do that and they could eff right off, so it was sort of a fun way to bring that full circle: this new universe is so different that ha, guess what, they actually did join the Alliance (and the Alliance is helping them out with their war against the Elders, because idk, something something, Erebus had some sort of mineral or element in abundance that the Alliance needed and the Empress of the Erebians would only allow them access if they helped out towards the war, something something diplomacy)

So Serena there was an Alliance crew member. The concept of every dimension having some sort of counterpart, and those counterparts having similar names, is something I’m absolutely rethinking (I’m thinking some people exist in some timelines, but not in others, or if they do, they don’t look identical or may be called something different), but that’s small enough that I don’t need to actually rewrite, just edit. But there was a Serena there, she was distantly related to the Empress, she was presumably from Veive and was thus the Veivean version of the Erebians (taller, skinner, more bipedal and with more hair, bigger eyes, darker skin), because the Erebians still established a colony on another planet. Anyway, Serena Alpha (the name for this new timeline, sort of cobbled together) was...not unlike Konnie in that she was a little fond of boasting: her species has more slow-twitch muscle fibres or lean muscle mass, or something that results in more brute strength than humans, kind of like gorillas--I imagine the catch is that they’re more prone to tears and damage, especially the more willowy, lower-gravity Veiveans, but the point is, she has more strength, and Konnie is impressed by that. Konnie grew up with...what, five? Six? brothers and so was used to roughhousing and disinterested in traditionally feminine stuff, so I suppose this was the appeal.

Since the story is from Christine’s POV, and she got there after the Alliance ship (Stargazer, afaik) had rescued them, she didn’t see the build up, but the group pretty explicitly joked that Konnie and Serena Alpha were girlfriends and they were staying in the same cabin, sooo

Well, it made sense once I reread that, but I’d literally forgotten I’d wrote that, and then I got mad at myself for rewriting just to include a couple more aliens when this was pretty good, Earthia issues aside. I mean, the ending was a bit too lighthearted (everyone shacked up with an Alliance member in a sort of “what happens in the Alpha-verse stays in the Alpha-verse” way! Although I have an absurd fondness for the antics of Zandy and Jaik and I know they will likely never see time in Earthia but they are there to me.) but it was still fun.

(Sidebar: I had a thought that what if there was a version of Ruth in the Alpha timeline of Earth, which is apparently Earthia’s universe I guess? Except she never got beamed to space and converted to antimatter in a horribly botched conversion that destroyed her physical body, instead she’s an old professor with tenure teaching astronomy or something at a university down south somewhere (Louisiana?), like she was before she was beamed up. Except I can’t remember if Earthia takes place a little bit in the future? Ruth was afaik beamed up in the...’70s? ‘80s? in our timeline and was old enough then to have had literal polio as a kid that caused her game leg, so if Earthia is in the future, she’d either be really old or dead. Unless Helian technology makes people live longer, but still, definitely retirement age, and not likely for Kai to meet her unless she achieved some sort of prominence, which...isn’t likely.

Although she seems like the sort of badass to keep her maiden name (Kendrick), even if she’d be married to someone else. In earlier versions, Theophanes was sort of a stuffy author type, a bit pretentious but not snobby, so I see Dr. Ruth Kendrick Alpha married to some poet from the English department or something, who writes pulpy sci-fi on the side. Sales went down when literal aliens showed up on Earth’s doorstep, not that he sold a ton to begin with.

That was a hell of a diversion but ANYWAY, that was the reason these two are paired up, and I like this enough I might try to draw a version where Serena isn’t in the Alliance uniform. I’m just glad I was able to find a reference for the new Alliance uniform. Tumblr’s search sucks and the infinite scroll sucks even more for finding old stuff.

(Note to self: I changed a bit more about the Erebians so it’d probably be useful to draw a proper picture someday. All it is is a lack of obvious breasts since their snout-like nose makes it less required but it’s still something--she’s still biologically female.)

Also I’d forgotten Konnie had been described as having eyes with a bit of a crease, like she had some Asian ancestry in her even though it’s really just genetics going WAUGH after so much mixing, but I tried to incorporate that, with the sort of puffiness under her eyes when she smiles.

Day 14, Gabby: The inks don’t quite look as nice as the sketch, but it’s workable. I like how she turned out. I think I referenced Mew Azama? If PGSM Sailor Jupiter isn’t good enough for Gabby, then who is?? :P Also thank goodness for brush pens, they make blocking in all that hair so much easier.

Day 15, Carmen: @erinhime83 wrote some stuff about Carmen and who she was before, and that’s fine, but...I really don’t know what to do with her any more?? When you have a group of seven people but only one POV it’s really hard to find meaningful stuff for them to do, and I feel as if Carmen (and to a lesser extent, Julia and Keiko) just kind of got shoved off to one side? I think I was going for the “she’s socially awkward” angle at one point because there’s a mention that Carmen has to be reminded that not everyone wants to talk about the things she does and that sometimes you have to talk about other stuff, but I can’t remember her really doing anything notable. This picture turned out nice, even if her neck’s a bit long, but I picture her with a very round face and this nailed it.

Her story is a bit sad, in the sense that all of them are descended from a bunch of people who fled the antimatter universe (in fear of their lives), but like, her dad (the alien) just straight up left either when she was a baby or before she was born, plunging her mother into a deep depression that’s sort of coloured her entire world (never remarried, never so much as dated, Carmen’s just lived alone with her as far as anyone else knows). So everyone else can go to their families for answers, but Carmen’s mother is just a regular human and has no idea, the one person Carmen could ask just isn’t in her life. If I remember right he set up another family, a “real” family (inasmuch as he actually married this woman and has children that he didn’t abandon with her and shows up in public with her), sometime later (I can’t remember if I ever mentioned whether or not Carmen’s parents were married? Maybe they weren’t) and then contacted her on Facebook (as one does) but she’d never contacted him back. She seemed fairly conflicted about it but like, I don’t even know what it is he did back in the antimatter universe.

Maybe he was just a spoiled dick even there (when your mom’s a queen, even if it’s an elected one or whatever janky system I set up, you can probably get away with some shit so long as you don’t piss Mom off too badly), but like, I imagine he ran away because literally the...what, seven? Ten? other people living in the same city, that knew who he was and what he did, were all ready to call him out on his shit the second he got Carmen’s mother pregnant, because they all knew what he was like but Mommy wasn’t around to bust his ass for embarrassing her name, so someone had to. Jadi Samora (who took the laziest route ever and Anglicized his name to John Seymour, just saying) be held accountable for his actions? Or deal with his emotions? NOT TODAY, PEACE OUT Y’ALL.

But anyway, none of that really come through the story, and why should it, if it’s not Carmen’s POV? Like I said, I don’t know what to do with her sometimes, although the art is nice. (Sidenote: I picture her, at least in terms of facial structure, looking very much like her paternal grandmother, Eritha. She also had Eritha’s eyes, I think I remember correctly. I feel like this idea could be expanded on in-story but I’m not sure how.)

Also her outfit hasn’t really changed, I’m just lazy. Lazy enough that I just threw her hair in a ponytail and called it a day, but it looks pretty good.

#Inktober #my art #my stories #My characters #earthia #Other people's OCs #other people's stories

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sfivcs · 6 years ago

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IC2019: The Failed Experiment of IDIC Con.

Before I launch into my tirade, I wanted to put some links together for you all with respect to the Periscope streams that I did for IC2019:

- IC2019 Opening Ceremonies: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1djxXplDlMVxZ - IC2019 General Session: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1OyKApVvYYNxb - IC2019 Meet the Candidates: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1BdxYAygXpyxX - IC2019 Marine Muster: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1LyxBAqwdjYJN - IC2019 Academy Panel: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1OdKrvzgrVeKX - IC2019 Final Mission: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1MnxnvpaOdLxO - IC2019 Closing Ceremonies: https://www.pscp.tv/SFIVCS/1BRJjvZvpggJw

I know it wasn’t as much coverage as IC2018 and for that I apologize. I, along with Dan & Melissa Toole, Linda & David Kloempken, Lucy Franck, Theresa Bristow, Melissa Comeau, Jessie Single, Connie Franklin, Gru, David Goldsberry, and a few others (apologies to those I missed) were busy trying to ensure that the IC actually happened. I streamed what I could for the members who couldn’t attend, and I chose the most relevant panels... but I could only be in one place and any given time.

Also, there were those who supported the IC from afar with logistical and technical support: Mary Kane, Tony Knopes, Linda Olson, Greg Mortensen. Btw, my profuse thanks to all those who attended or supported IC this year. I only wish I had a few more weeks to market and get more people to come out.

Note that this will be the last time that I’ll be streaming IC from Periscope. This, along with all the other social media accounts for the Office of the VCS will be turned over to either Theresa Bristow or Jim Herring, depending on who wins the election in November. It is my sincere hope that they will both lean into social media at the same levels that I have.

Let’s dive into IC2019′s post-mortem, after the jump.

Positives out of IC2019 include:

- In times of crisis, STARFLEET really pulls together. I’ve seen it time and time again in the past, but nothing quite reminds you strongly of the sense of family when the chips are down and you need help. The most positive aspect of this year’s IC was that we inadvertently formed an all-star team of IC staff. - Within a few short weeks since taking over the event, we managed to sell 25 supporting memberships, 19 weekend memberships, and 6 Saturday memberships. All told, the new website and registration system took in almost $3k to support IC2019. - The auction further raised another grand toward supporting the IC. - For the first time in IC history, STARFLEET was able to show licensed films with full studio permission (thanks to our friends at The Royal Manticoran Navy). We showed Trek films, Babylon 5, and Avengers: Endgame! - Our Marketing & Branding Department kicked off the 45th Anniversary branding campaign (more on that in an upcoming post). - As with previous ICs, friends (old and new) discussed Star Trek fandom, plans for the next fiscal year within our organization, and came away filled with purpose.

So, in spite of it all... the fleet came together once more.

That’s great... but, what the hell happened?

Often times you’ll get a group of people together to try something new with the IC formula. I think this comes from a sense of ego/pride; that they can try to do better than the previous... which isn’t a bad thing. We should always look to improve on our concepts and adapt to the times. STARFLEET is notoriously poor at embracing the new and recognizing obsolescence.

However, events like the International Conference are successful because attendees have a certain set of expectations. We have core components of an IC that are now looked for every year:

- Workshops and Panels on topics of interest to members. - Meal-based events like the Marine Mess and the Admiralty Banquet - The Annual General Session, where we acknowledge our growth and listen to reports from the Executive Committee. - The meeting of the Admiralty Board and Executive Committee, to set the agenda for the coming year. - Opening & Closing Ceremonies.

In 2019, the formula seemed to be wrapping in the concept of a full-blown convention setting called IDIC Con.

Obviously, upon my early arrival, I set upon trying to find out what happened. I spoke directly with members, hotel staff, and vendors. The overall picture seems to be that the previous CS was sold on the idea of kick-starting a brand new “mini comic-con” on our dime. Unfortunately, circumstances led to that being an outright failure and those involved stepped down, one by one, until the burden was too much for those remaining and the whole thing collapsed.

Roughly five weeks out from IC, Dan and I had no choice but to step up and take control of the rudderless ship and try to salvage what we could. I personally feel that without Dan’s personal leadership, we would be in far worse shape than we were. I can safely say that both of us lost a lot of sleep on this, in between working our full-time jobs and working phones and social media to turn things around.

In the course of setting this up, however, they booked nearly the entire ground floor of the hotel. Roughly 30k square feet of space was set aside for this event; far more space than was necessary. At the actual IC, we did our best to utilize the space, but we gave up about 40% of the rooms. And yes, that was money wasted as a result.

The measure of our success lays with those who attended. So far, the positive feedback outweighed the negative.

Lessons Learned

And let’s be clear that what I’m about to say is common sense. Hindsight being what it is, I’m sure that the adjustments we need to make are going to seem obvious.

- Improve Communication: IC teams/committees need to not be so passive with information. IC2018 was a great example of a team that kept up their regular reports, gave us a sense of confidence that the event was progressing and coming together nicely. I never once had a doubt about Minneapolis. On the opposite end, the EC should be reaching out more often for information. - Update Bid Guidelines: We need to do a comprehensive review of the current bid guide. This is already in progress, in discussion with some of the past successful IC chairs providing input on improvements. - Protect STARFLEET Financially: We’re looking into some legal and financial shields for STARFLEET, if this should ever happen again in spite of changes made. Right now, some of those ideas are in the earliest stages of formation, so I’ll refrain from commenting too much. But that leads me into the next point: - Improve Oversight: Many members came up to me and asked me about this, because it seems like this is a no-brainer. We should use the above to refine and improve our oversight of the IC. I feel that in updating the Bid Guidelines, we should cover this point as well.

Keep it Simple: Future administrations should be wary of any plans involving a brand new convention to be started alongside any IC. As I said above, ICs have a particular core value to the membership in terms of it being an annual party to celebrate our organization and highlight all the positives STARFLEET has achieved in the previous twelve (or so) months. Adding the stress of starting a new event on top of IC requires a lot more manpower than most IC committees have access to. Thusly, you get encumbered by the demands of ambition and the result is something along the lines of the failed IDIC Con. But, that failure is at the expense of the members’ dues. In my opinion, that was an unacceptable risk. The members are now paying for the pride and ego of IDIC Con’s concomm... and they all bailed out of the event with mere weeks to go before the first member touched down in St. Louis.

The final lesson is that we should also provide contingencies in case we have a full burnout of the IC team as we did this year. Some kind of response team that has been keeping tabs and stands ready to step in and take over with little to no notice. This response team should shadow their counterparts closely each step of the way, and perhaps also act as an alternate if/when it’s necessary to take on those duties when RL shifts attention away.

After having said all of the above, this begs an obvious question (that’s been asked already several times):

IC2020: But this is another convention, isn’t it?

Yes, it is. But, I feel that BayCon has a longevity that IDIC Con never had. Also, there’s a clear division of labor next year. BayCon’s staff will be tending to the convention side, while the STARFLEET team shall be tending to the IC side of the programming and event schedule. You won’t have to have the same group of people trying to manage an IC while at the same time trying to run a public convention.

Lastly, our buy-in will provide a salve to the hit being taken on by the General Fund this year. We’re being provided facilities and programming at next-to-no cost to the organization.

Pick up your memberships now! The $55 membership is only available until the end of August 2019: http://ic.sfi.org/2020reg

See you in San Francisco!

#starfleet #ic2019 #conference #international #startrek #star trek #ic2020 #convention #idic con

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padhaiwale · 2 years ago

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victorie552onepiecespeedrun · 4 years ago

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Reading One Piece pt 309: Luffy and Whitebeard

Chapter 557

Thoughts:

- Fpos/cs: I think Brook is witnessing a kidnapping. Don’t just stand there, Skeleton Grandpa, help them like a summon you apparently are

- ah. Luffy’s ship got stuck on the top of a frozen tsunami wave. That’s what happens when you’re playing with the elementals

- but who thought it was a good idea to just jump down?

- Luffy!!!!

- …message to the Navy? They send it to everyone?

- oh shit, wasn’t it the news of Ace’s ahead of schedule demise

- yep. Yikes

- lol, their plan was more or less sound, they just went the other way :D and now they’re falling

- everything right in front of Ace. At least he’s got a great view

- that small ‘waaaaaaaah’ really gets me

- literary everyone is like “???????”, it’s great

- Luffy’s group fell into the water. I think Jimbei is saving all DF users right now, bless the man

- “LUFFY!!” “ACE!!! I FINALLY FIND YOU!!!” YEEEEAAAAH

- AND YOU BETTER SAY ‘FINALLY’ IT TOOK FUCKING FOREVER FOR YOU TO MEET

- NOW GO SAVE YOUR BROTHER

- great panel!!!

- actually, no, where’s Galdino and Daz Bonez

-“Garp!! It’s your family again!!” “LUFFY!” AKJSHADSKLSHFJSAFGKFHDKAS

- this is hilarious, Marine Grandpas and their aneurysms

- everyone recognizes the newcomers :)

- “Never a dull moment with you, Straw Hat.” Mihawk, you have no idea

- “What’s he doing here?” “That’s not his usual crew!” I see Jango and Fullbody attempted hiding, good

- oh Hancock

- “Straw Hat!” “I heard they had him in Impel Down!! I always knew he was amazing!” Coby will be a fan forever :)

- damn, we know a lot of marines, I never noticed before

- “So that’s the little brother Ace always talked about!” precious :D

- Doflamingo is STOCKED but that’s nothing new. Tashigi and Smoker are just surprised Luffy and Crocodile are fighting together. Well, that one is yet to be seen I guess

- “So that’s one’s the grandson of the Hero Garp and the son of Dragon. He has to be eliminated as well.” Shut your face, Akainu. And does everyone knows about Luffy and Dragon now?

- “Is that your answer, Jimbei!!!??” “YES! I’m resigning my position as one of the Seven Warlords!” High Quality Workplace Drama, Sengoku Is Crushed

- Crocodile?

- …oh well, he did say he wanted to off Whitebeard. As I saw Ace trying and failing to do the same 100 times, I’m not worried even a little

- oh, Luffy stopped him, thanks Luffy

- “Why are you protecting Whitebeard?” “So that’s Whitebeard!” SOMEBODY GIVE LUFFY “MOST WANTED” CATALOG

- “Well, don’t fight him. Ace really likes that old man.” Neat

- Whitebeard remembers his talk with Shanks. He likes the kid

- “This? I gave it up for the sake of new era.” :)

- and now Luffy and Whitebeard like each other

- “I know you’re trying to become a Pirate King! But I’m going to be the Pirate King, not you!” never change, Luffy

“Shall we execute them all, Sengoku?” “Of course!”

rOP 308 rOP 310

#one piece #one piece speed read #one piece reaction #lots of Whitebeard in these titles #chapter 557 #one piece chapter 557 #557 #spoiler #spoilers #have a nice day #rOP 309

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gmtestseries · 3 years ago

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miscellaneous-oxy · 7 years ago

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rambling: wok of love, ep1-8

Here’s the thing. I have just finished watching the 8th episode for the second time, and I am so pleased and excited in terms of the plot development but totally distracted by Seo Poong’s sexiness – he looked so good, excessively good in that black shirt: I’m confused. So, I’m just going to ramble tonight. Yes, this is my excuse for being rather aggressive in this post. Please beware. This might be unsettling and even displeasing to some, but I just have to let it out for the peace of my mind. Before watching tonight’s episodes, and reading some of the reactions to them, I was planning on posting a follow-up to my SP analysis, but now it seems impossible for me to be as efficient and persuasive as I aim to be. I guess I need to set it aside for a bit till I’m calmer.

I had been a bit concerned about the delay in the development of love line between SP and SW because so many people seemed to have been shipping CS and SW already from the beginning – no, actually, they were doing it even before the drama started. I was also wondering why some people are so willing to dismiss all signs of SP’s characterisation and consequently choosing to believe that the OTP is (or should be) the CS-SW pair, as if SP did not deserve SW. (By the way, believe it or not, I myself is actually open on this matter. I don’t mind whichever or no character is chosen by SW in the end, as long as the character developments through the love lines are substantial and her final choice a valid one. Furthermore, to be honest, I must admit I would most likely find the SP-CS pairing at the end of the story more amusing.)

I’ve read online more than a couple of viewers complaining the non-likability of SP’s character, mainly because of his arrogance. Some of them don’t even forget to add that another actor would be likable in whatever kind of character he may be playing, however arrogant, implying that Junho could be the one to blame for making the character unlikable. (Absurd!) First of all, as it happens, and I’m sure everybody who has watched more than a couple of dramas or read a dozen stories is perfectly aware, that the leading character is often supposed to be arrogant at the beginning, for that gives him the necessary room for improvement. Second, and this is essentially my point that I have been discussing in my previous post, SP’s show of arrogance is otherwise a manifestation of his vulnerability: His arrogance is even given a premise for the viewers to be sympathetic towards him. He needs to be arrogant to keep on going with his life: Arrogance is his armour. It’s his way of dealing with his crushed identity. Indeed, it may be an immature course to take, but that’s the very reason he needs to grow up in the story. Having his self-esteem brutally impaired by SDH, he needed to find something he can hold on to. When he felt his whole being – his past, his present profession, and his future plan – totally denied, he had nothing left but what he can do – to cook delicious dishes. He needs to feel accepted in the world again, and the only place where he could get the recognition and appreciation that he needed had been The Finishing Touch. The vulnerability in his eyes is the key to understand this character. Once you see his weakness, it’s impossible not to root for him, if not love him yet. Those people who feel distant or indifferent to SP seem to be missing out on the details that show the depth of his emotions, quite possibly because they are so focused elsewhere. (And I know it’s quite easy to fall into that trap.)

Some more viewers persist that, while admitting SP would be the writer’s preferred choice for SW, they do not understand why SP was so suddenly interested in SW at the end of the 8th episode. This, to me, seems to show that there’s this really firm preconceived refusal to accept SP as a leading character. They are tenaciously ignoring the detailed portrayal of SP, and the lack of understanding in his character thereof leads to a further undermining of the significance of SP’s behaviours. What a spiral. I do realise that this may be the case of either the character is portrayed poorly –script-wise, direction-wise, or acting-wise, or, simply the viewers are blind to see the subtleties that are composing the character. Most viewers who claim SP’s sudden interest in SW to be incomprehensible also mention that SP’s character is difficult to sympathise with. Obviously, they are entitled to their own opinion and all, but that does not make them entitled to degrade other characters. It is really frustrating to see some viewers boasting their views as the only sensible ones, just because they have no idea that they may be blinded by their love for their bias or by some preconceived notions that have derived from that love. How can anyone miss all those signs that indicate SP is yet to learn that his feelings towards SDH might not have been true love but a sense of obligation that had been grown out of youthful infatuation and his mentor’s death? Of course, both young SP and SDH must have believed that they were in love, but they did not succeed in cultivating the true thing.

Furthermore, there were so many signs, from the first episode, that point SW as a trigger for SP’s character development and even as the answer to his quest (and questions; here, I’m thinking about George’s question mark in A Room with a View). Remember how SP was repeating every other things SW chatted away? SW was literally giving keys and answers to SP’s question: Is the love between SP and SDH true? SP’s interest in SW is already there, even though he tries to act indifferently. He notices SW in a crowded dining hall, remembers SW’s words and needs, feels compassion, and even identifies with her hunger and despair. It’s not sudden but a gradual process. He is certainly a bit slow to notice his own feelings; which is made a contrast with CS’s instant crush on SW, but that is the whole point of his story. SP is going to learn the deficiencies in his character and his life through his interactions with the new people around him. He will learn the true meaning of humility, friendship, and love. Therefore, the development in SP-SW love line is sure to make the story so much more profound and entertaining!

As much as I enjoy watching those charming scenes between CS and SW (and I really do, as I have been a fan of Jang Hyuk for ever so longer than I’ve been fangirling Junho; I have watched most of his dramas since Thank You, even including the cameos in webdramas solely for his sake), I still maintain that it is SP’s potential emotional journey that gives depth to the story, where CS’s comedy gives the necessary relief from the strain. That’s the supposed balance of the drama. It wouldn’t work or it’s not of the writer’s intention if the story focused too much on CS’s character development. It may be hard for some to accept it, but the writer seems to want Jang Hyuk to play the comic relief to some extent and he took the job. He admitted when he guested a radio programme that the writer had asked him to play the “entertainment.” He is doing a perfect job at that, and I can see people rooting for him, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t think we should expect much portrayal of his character development in this particular drama.

One last detail I’d like to defend has to do with how some people are trying to make the possible SP-SW love line sound like an old classic cliché and thus boring. On the other hand, they seem to believe a love story between a gangster and a chaebol daughter as something new and refreshing, but that’s where I can confidently say they are in the wrong. Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night (1934), the first romantic comedy film to win an Oscar instantly comes to my mind, and a long list of films, dramas, novels and comic books follows. (I must say there are tons of romance novels and Japanese girls’ mangas, in particular, with a gangster – princess type pairing.) Of course, Clark Gable is not exactly a gangster in the film, but he sure looks like one – coincidentally, he even has a moustache and suspenders on in this film, and he does fit in the stereotypical pattern. I mean, it’s basically the classic Beauty and the Beast concept in the first place. But please do not misunderstand me. I am not saying that the cliché settings and characters are boring. At the end of the day, what matters is how the characters themselves are idiosyncratically refreshing and how all the elements are executed in an enjoyable and satisfying way. Whether it is a fallen chef or a sweet gangster, any character can be a cliché and simultaneously not boring. The reason I believe they are not watching with clear eyes is how they say SP-SW is a cliché and CS-SW is not. This is the proof of their biased views.

OK, I think I’m calmed down now. Hope I can now focus on writing up something more convincing. Thank you for reading, if any of you have come thus far. I really appreciate it.

#wok of love #greasy melo #기름진멜로 #서풍 #이준호 #준호 #seo poong #junho #lee joon ho #katteni #ramblings #ep8 #love line

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words-writ-in-starlight · 7 years ago

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thank you so much omg Name of the Wind is SO FRUSTRATING, I tried reading it and just did NOT like the protagonist or the writing style or ANYTHING, and people KEEP RECOMMENDING IT TO ME

mhmhmhMHMHM you have come to the RIGHT PLACE

Okay, so first, a disclaimer: I read Name of the Wind four and a bit years ago and, despite my usually excellent memory for plots and characters, retained exactly jack and shit of the whole thing except for the arguments I wrote in my head about my frustration. But like...I’ve been holding onto those for a long time, so just. Sit tight and listen to me complain for a minute, I deserve this.

First and foremost, it’s pitched as this revolutionary take on...something, and if my life and the lives of everyone I love depended on it, I couldn’t tell you what it’s supposed to revolutionize. It’s not even a particularly well-executed piece on Magic Has A Price, which is what I usually hear about (what with the very academic, scientific take on magic), the fucking early Dresden Files are better at that. (Shit y’all, remember Toby Daye, the series I haven’t shut up about? Magic Has A Price masterpiece right there.) I mean, goddamn, @Patrick Rothfuss, I’m really sorry, but you’re never going to do Magic Is A Science better than Fullmetal Alchemist, which basically invented equivalent exchange, so just put that one to bed. For actual revolutionary takes on various genres, I’d suggest Imperial Radch (scifi), The Wrath and the Dawn (fairy tale retelling), Stormdancer (steampunk/fantasy), Sunshine (paranormal urban), and Kencyrath Chronicles (epic fantasy).

Second, the main character is not likable. There. I said it. I found Kvothe absolutely fucking insufferable in every way. His “modern” self telling the story was, like, a little more tolerable, but for the majority of the novel he’s an arrogant twit too convinced of his own cleverness to drag his head out of his ass for long enough to actually get anything done. It’s possible to do a very self-confident, clever character in a way that their arrogance is actually charming--King Arthur: Legend of the Sword comes to mind. Shit, son, so does Roy Mustang, and half the other characters in FMA. In books, I’d rec maybe Captive Prince (Laurent). It’s important, if you’re doing that, to make sure that the character can actually put their money where their mouth is and do the thing they’re bragging about, or else make it a Learning Experience that sticks with them. Kvothe ain’t that. Kvothe is just completely baselessly sure that he’s going to be the best from the very beginning, despite evidence to the contrary, and I found it intolerably annoying.

Third, the universe is interesting, the magic is kind of a neat concept for all that it’s (from what I can tell) an Eragon bootleg, which is, of course, the child of LOTR and Star Wars almost exactly. But the writing style was like a fucking textbook. I mean. Goddamn. Not exactly sweeping me away into the infinite Imagisphere with that. And I’m not--my standards for evocative prose are not that high, the Animorphs books were written for thirteen-year-olds, but fuck me NotW was not remotely achieving it. If you’re going to frontload that kind of technical jargon, you need to make it the point of the book, like The Martian, which is very up front about being a science ramble that enjoys what it’s doing, or else find a good balance like Sabriel, which is heavy on the technical angle of Abhorsen magic and glyphs and shit without sacrificing the characters.

Fourth, I dimly recall a girl who’s there for like a hot minute as a love interest? I don’t think I remember any others? So, you know...points off for that one. It’s the 21st century. Women, POC, the homosexual agenda, they should all be in there. Thanks.

Fifth, the whole urban setup gets a lot of time and attention, but it’s just not...well done? It’s just not. It does not give a cohesive sense of place, nor an emotional connection to the people in that place. Please, for the love of God, Jesus, and any other deities you want to throw in there, read the first book in the Kencyrath series, it is called God Stalk and it’s very good at this. I’d also say Toby Daye, but that’s about a real place (San Francisco) rather than a fantasy setting, like NotW and God Stalk.

Sixth, and this is a writerly complaint, not an opinion, but: right, so, in the “modern” day when Kvothe is telling the story, some grand disaster is underway, right? Am I making that up? See, I’d never know if I was making it up, because it does not get a single goddamn mention in the main bulk of the novel. That is a clear and evident sign that you need to critically reevaluate what part of the timeline is the main novel. I’m not saying that your novel necessarily needs to be the worst day/month/week of your character’s life, but if you could have included the entire text of the novel in a page or two of emotionally laden dialogue or memories, you probably should have. And don’t come at me with “Oh, Name of the Wind is the first in a series, things get underway later in the series” because if your FIRST BOOK does not grab me, I’m absolutely not giving you ANOTHER BOOK to get it done. You want to set up some kind of heartwrenching Things Were Different Once arrangement? Make me care about your characters and then drop bits of backstory as we go, or include a prologue, or get over your fear of flashbacks and use them judiciously. Crucially, give them a relationship to The Way Things Were and then use that relationship to make your reader upset for them. Again, Toby Daye is a great example. So is the Imperial Radch series by Anne Leckie.

Which brings me to seventh, which is that I am APPALLED that over the course of that entire goddamn book, there was not one single interpersonal relationship I ever came to give a damn about. I think there was the girl, I think Kvothe might have had one (1) friend, I think there was a teacher? And there was the kid Bast in the “modern” day, who I retained more of than literally anyone/anything else because he was the only person I gave a flying fuck about. Again, I, the writer, am horrified about this, far more so than I, the reader. The main thing that original content creators should take away from fanfic culture is that your readers will almost universally care more about the relationships between characters than anything else. You are going to need a pretty balls-out crazy good universe and plot to smooth over a general lack of engaging relationships, and NotW just isn’t that good. So, like, let that be a lesson. I’m not recommending anything for this because this should be obvious.

EIGHTH, what...was the plot of the first book? No, seriously, I was asking this when I finished it, too. The only plot points I recall now are Kvothe deciding that he wanted to do The Magic, Kvothe conning his way into The School For The Magic (in, if I recall correctly, kind of a FMA ripoff?), something about a library for The Magic, a bunch of technical stuff about The Magic and Kvothe being an arrogant twit, and Kvothe getting whipped. From what I remember, the entire book basically seemed to lead up to Kvothe getting whipped and ended shortly thereafter. And, uh...how should I put this. That’s. Not a plot. Again, that’s maybe a couple paragraphs of conversation between Kvothe and someone he cares about regarding the scars on his back, not an entire fucking novel. Again, this should be obvious, I’m not recommending anything.

Anyway, TL;DR, NotW is ultimately a forgettable fantasy novel without anything in particular to distinguish it from a myriad of other unremarkably flawed fantasy novels, and I wouldn’t have any opinions on it whatsoever if people didn’t keep pitching it to me as the Second Coming of Tolkien, leGuin, McCaffrey, and fuck knows who else.

A collection of the content I recommended here and why I recced them, plus some others:

Imperial Radch, Ann Leckie (unique scifi, excellent example of emotionally resonant flashbacks)

The Wrath and The Dawn, Renee Ahdieh (unique fairy tale retelling)

Stormdancer, Jay Kristoff (unique steampunk fantasy)

Sunshine, Robin McKinley (unique paranormal urban fantasy)

Kencyrath Chronicles, PC Hodgell (unique epic fantasy, well-executed fantasy cities and colleges)

Fullmetal Alchemist, Hiromu Arakawa (magic with a price, scientific magic, charmingly arrogant characters) (manga or Brotherhood anime)

October Daye, Seanan McGuire (magic with a price, emotionally resonant memories/prologue, well-executed urban locale)

Captive Prince, CS Pacat (charmingly arrogant/engagingly arrogant characters, well-executed political scheming)

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, dir. Guy Ritchie (charmingly arrogant characters, concise worldbuilding)

The Martian, Andy Weir (technical frontloading without being unreadable)

Sabriel, Garth Nix (technical magic and worldbuilding without losing character engagement)

Source and Shield Series, Moira J. Moore (unique urban non-Earth fantasy, charmingly arrogant characters, emotionally resonant conversations about the past)

Temeraire Series, Naomi Novik (technical worldbuilding without being unreadable, having a fucking plot in each book even if your overall plot is extremely big-picture and doesn’t show up until later)

The Wicked + The Divine, Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie (unique folklore retelling/urban fantasy, charmingly arrogant characters, having some fucking diversity)

#name of the wind bitching #writing #vernalseason #another episode of vagueblogging #SORT OF #i mean this is very explicitly me coming for patrick rothfuss' entire life #but if you look close enough you'll see me vagueblog about some other folks #book rec #kind of eventually at least #book unrec #i am SUPER SERIOUS about these complaints #the more i remember about this book the more conviction i have #but yeah anyway...uh...welcome to it #don't recommend name of the wind to me or you're just ASKING to hear me bitch #the rest of those books i've recommended (and the one movie and the comic series and the manga/anime) really are good for the things i've m #and obviously all of them have PLOTS and CHARACTER RELATIONSHIPS and INTERESTING WRITING STYLES #so like THAT'S WHAT I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THE NAME OF THE WIND #GET FUCKED ROTHFUSS #IF YOUR PLOT IS SO UNMEMORABLE I CAN'T EVEN RETAIN THE MAJOR POINTS YOU'RE DOING SOMETHING WRONG #anonymous #asked and answered

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