#DOES THE OPPOSITE OF IGNORE IT. aka replies directly.

[finerandbonnier]

Much Nicer than Paperwork

There is a corridor toward the back of the Bazaar where the Tragedy Commission keeps its offices. You would not know it. This hallway is poorly signposted, dimly lit and often mistaken for a broom closet by the more junior staff. This is because the Commission does not get visitors.  Except today.

Aka Betty pesters Griz at work.

Rated: Teen || Words: 2,536 || [AO3]

My fic for @the-masterless-press as part of the secret swap portion of @fallenlondonficswap.

When Grizelda Smith entered her office at the Tragedy Commission, her arms loaded down with a stack of paperwork she could only just see over the top of, she had expected it to be empty. A woman of reason, her grounds for this belief were twofold:

One: The only people who would have a reason to visit her office (or indeed knowledge of its location) were her colleagues in the Commission or perhaps one of the Masters. Both categories were comprised only of exceptionally busy people who would have made sure to schedule an appointment to avoid missing her, or in the event of an emergency requiring her attention they would not have waited around for her but instead have left a note, of which there was none. And,

Two: Her office had been (until she had opened it) very, very thoroughly locked.

Which was why the appearance of Betty Horvat sprawled across the arms of a Gainsborough chair that should have been unoccupied, eating biscuits from a plate that should have been tidied away came as something of a shock to Griz.

“Please tell me you did not walk in through the front door,” Griz said.

“‘Course not,” Betty replied with a grin, “I scaled the building instead, slipped in through the window.”

They were on the eighth floor and the window in question had been locked and barred. There was a pause as Griz’s brain attempted to take in that knowledge and produce an intelligent response. It failed.

"That’s not funny.”

“That was not a joke,” Betty replied, although the mirth in her voice suggested that she was finding this quite amusing.

Choosing not to respond to that beyond a resigned shaking of her head Griz instead walked over to her desk and deposited the paperwork she was still carrying onto it. Ignoring the loud, contented chewing noises coming from the chair opposite she gave an idle flip through some of the documents, dipped her pen into the nearby inkwell and made one brief amendment before giving up and turning to face Betty.

“I’m sorry but you’ll need to leave,” she said in a voice sterner than her face appeared.

“You don’t want to see me?" Betty asked with mock hurt, "And after I came all this way?”

“I don’t mean it like that, but you know you cannot be found here. You’ll have to leave.”

Betty hoisted herself from the chair and began to move across the room in the opposite direction from the door.

”Not out the window!” cried Griz as she realised Betty's intended destination.

“But you said I wasn’t to go through the front door?”

Griz sighed, “No, you’re right.” Betty might be being facetious, but she had touched on a genuine issue. “Damn it, you’ll just have to wait here until the coast is clear. Which I hope you realise may be some time.”

“Brilliant!” Betty replied as she returned to her seat and Griz’s attention drifted back to the documents in front of her, now satisfied her partner was not about to take a running leap out of the building. “So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to finish this paperwork, which will take me most of the evening, while you sit quietly in the corner.”

“Well that’s boring.”

“Perhaps you should have considered that before you broke in here to bother me at work.”

“Oh, it’s not all bad. The view’s quite nice.”

Griz glanced back up to find, perhaps unsurprisingly, that Betty was not looking at the view of the city skyline but staring directly at her, waggling her eyebrows in a manner that should have been ridiculous but instead left Griz’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem sitting there quietly while I work,” Griz said, fighting to keep her blush under control as she picked up her pen again.

“For a bit, perhaps. I’ll just try my hardest not to distract you with my beguiling gaze.”

To her credit Betty stayed true to her word, remaining quiet and, for her at least, still while Griz made progress through the overly loquacious text on the forms in front of her. Even so, Griz found her presence distracting. Normally it was easy for Griz to compartmentalise, to leave the parts of herself that would get in the way of her job at the doors of the Bazaar when she strode through them each morning and focus on the task in hand, whatever it may be. It was something she prided herself on. Now her eyes kept drifting up to Betty as the other woman fidgeted just on the edge of her vision and Griz found her mind continually wandering to more interesting things than paperwork.

The peace couldn’t last however and by the time Griz had worked her way through the first few documents Betty, having clearly become bored with what little entertainment Griz provided as she worked, got up out of the chair and strode across the room. Griz braced herself for whatever mischief she was about to be subjected to but to her surprise and slight disappointment Betty only stopped by her to open the top drawer of her desk. The disappointment quickly gave way to annoyance once Griz realised exactly what Betty was rooting around for.

Putting her pen down Griz moved to intercept. “Leave those biscuits alone, they are for guests.”

“I’m a guest,” Betty replied, not pausing her search for even a second.

“No, you are an intruder. Intruders do not get biscuits.”

“This one does,” Betty replied with a wolfish grin as she found her quarry and swiped another biscuit, one of the fancy pink ones, before Griz could remove the packet from her reach. Her fingers had only just cleared the edge of the drawer when Griz it slammed shut.

Betty wasted no time in tucking into her prize before speaking, “You nearly finished?”

“No,” Griz answered with a sigh.

“What’s it all about?” Betty asked, gesturing at the form Griz had been working on with her biscuit bearing hand and scattering crumbs across the paper.

“Something private and extremely boring.”

“Try me.”

“Alright then. If you must know, it’s a document detailing the recommended response procedures should London find itself attacked by a swarm of Burrowing Vesperwasps.”

Betty leaned forward over the desk to peer at the writing. “That’s not boring! That’s positively interesting. Do you think I could take a Burrowing Vesperwasp in a fight?”

“One, certainly. A dozen, perhaps. An entire swarm? No.”

“Ye of little faith. But seriously, if this is the sort of stuff you’re looking at perhaps I could help. I do know a bit about fighting monsters.”

“Oh, by all means.” Griz picked up the top file and began reading from it, “In the eventuality of an oversteppening of the covey of Vespula vesperinfodio most recentally beholden in the vicinihood of Bullbone Isle it is our advisement that the aegisening of London must take a tridential approach—“

“Woah, woah, woah, woah. What in the hells is that?”

“Ah, you’ve noticed the issue. This was drafted by a colleague who until recently worked under Pages, apparently it has rubbed off on the poor man.”

“Poor man? Poor you having to read through that tripe. Couldn’t you just… trip and lose the papers into the fire?”

“Obviously not.”

“I could toss it in the fire for you?”

“No.”

“Could—”

“The document is not going in the fire. The information contained in it will play a vital role in the defence of London one day. Or at least it might once I’ve translated it into English.”

“Are they all like that?” Betty reached out to leaf through the stack of documents before Griz slapped her hand away.

“Not at all. Some are an illegible combination of euphemisms, acronyms and shorthand, some take several thousand words to say nothing at all and the few that are written in clear, concise English will inevitably be completely and utterly wrong.”

“I’m beginning to see why you can be so sour when you leave work.”

“I am never sour!” Griz sputtered, “I’ll concede I might be a little tired sometimes after a long day but I do a very good job of leaving my work, and any mood it may have put me in, at work!”

“If you say so love” — Griz shot Betty a glare that suggested she very much did say so — “but you might want to take a break, you’re doing that furrowed brow thing you do when you’re feeling sou— er, a little tired.”

Griz’s initial instinct was to strenuously deny the accusation and attempt to relax whatever her forehead was apparently doing but on further consideration a break didn’t sound wholly unreasonable; she wasn’t making much progress between Betty’s presence and the headache she could feel forming at the base of her skull. She could shoo Betty away, pick up her pen and attempt once more to extract some form of meaning from the text in front of her. The progress would be slow and painful though, and the task wasn’t really urgent. It could wait until the morning when she was well rested.

Perhaps it should.

If there was anything this job had taught her, it was that sometimes the wisest course of action was to recognise when one had been beaten and capitulate without kicking up a fuss.

With a little nod of her head Griz acquiesced, “Let me get these next few documents in order. Then, perhaps, I could be convinced to take a… comfort break.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Betty interjected, a sly grin on her face.

“No! Absolutely not, not in my office! Anyone could walk in.”

“You know for some people that adds to the experience. But fine. Cuddling’s still an option though? Perhaps kissing? Somewhere over by the fire, under all those books and papers there appears to be a rather sweet little loveseat which would be excellent for cuddling. Or is that off limits too?”

Griz looked equal parts tempted and exasperated and wholly adorable. “I— Fine. Let me lock the door. I really should have done that earlier.”

“Aw, did I distract you?”

“No,” Griz lied.

Griz made her way quickly across the room and locked the door. Then she joined Betty by the fire where the other woman was hastily transferring the mess of books and random parchment from the top of the settee into an even more haphazard pile on the floor. Once the seat was clear (bar a few loose pages stuck between the cushions) Betty spun on a heel and threw herself dramatically backwards onto it, one hand reaching out as she did so to grasp Griz’s wrist and pull her unsuspecting partner down with her. Griz let out a little squeak as she fell. One arm still in Betty’s grip Griz just about managed to catch herself with the other before she fully collapsed onto the chest beneath her.

There wasn’t much distance between the two women but even so Betty seemed dissatisfied by the gap. Her arm slipped around Griz’s back and with a firm tug pulled the other woman flush to her chest as she shuffled backwards, getting herself comfortable on the bare cushions and Griz comfortable on her. Satisfied with the new position her head dipped down to press a kiss just below Griz’s ear, followed by another and another and then a quick nip at the sensitive skin.

Lips still flush against Griz’s neck she mumbled, “There, isn’t this much nicer than paperwork.”

“Hush,” Griz replied in a slightly breathy voice.

Betty hummed as she continued her ministrations, quite happy to comply with Griz’s demand; after all there were much better uses for both of their lips than talking. Had she been feeling more patient she might have considered teasing Griz, she might have trailed her kisses up along Griz’s jaw, might have drawn out the moment. Instead she moved to capture Griz’s lips with the speed and precision of a hunter going in for the kill.

It was a searing kiss and one that was responded to immediately and enthusiastically. With one hand remaining against Griz’s back, pressing the other woman somehow even tighter to her, Betty brought the other up to meet her partner’s neck. There she traced across the pulse point with her thumb before continuing down to release the top two button of Griz’s tightly starched shirt collar. Relief paired with the soft touch of a nail that was closer to a claw trailing down the centre of her throat left Griz gasping for air around the kiss.

Griz reached up to cover Betty’s hand with her own and locked their fingers together as their lips continued to dance. Then she dragged Betty’s hand lower, between her breasts and across her stomach where only the thin material of her shirt separated soft flesh from Betty’s touch. She had almost managed to move it to her waistband when a sudden knock at the door echoed through the small room.

Startled Griz threw herself backwards off Betty and landed sprawled across the carpet with a thud.

“Commissioner? Can you spare a minute?” A voice called out from behind the door.

“Hide!” Griz hissed at Betty, her voice torn between staying quiet enough she couldn’t be heard by the intruder and loud enough to express her displeasure at almost being caught fooling around like a naughty schoolgirl.

“Where?!” Betty replied in her own exaggerated whisper.

“I don’t know! Look, just duck behind the settee and stay still while I get them to leave.”

“Better idea, I’ll answer the door and kill whoever it is for interrupting us.”

“Absolutely not!” Griz struggled to keep her voice low.

Betty, on the other hand, barely seemed to be trying to keep quiet. “It’s not like it would be permanent!”

“Still no!”

“Griz there is nowhere for me to hide in here where I wouldn’t be instantly spotted. Either you let me handle this or…”

“Or?” Griz asked, knowing she would not like the answer.

“Or I leave the way I came in?”

The knocking on the door intensified, followed by the muffled voice from the other side speaking out, “Commissioner? Is there someone in there with you? Please let open the door, this is very urgent.”

Griz swore under her breath as she resigned herself to Betty’s solution out of necessity and nothing else. “Fine. Just don’t hurt yourself. Or let anyone spot you.”

Moving without any particular sense of urgency Betty crossed the room then removed the bars from the window with ease and bypassed the lock. All the while the knocking at the door continued. Hopping up onto the windowsill she paused for a moment, holding herself half in the room, half in the cold night’s air as she spoke, “You know, this was fun, we should do it again sometime. Oh, and you might want to tidy yourself up a bit before answering the door. You’re looking a little… dishevelled.”

Then, before Griz could respond with what was sure to be a particularly outraged curse, Betty allowed herself to slip backwards, disappearing into the dark London streets below.

[kiseki-no-scenarios]

After a ridiculously long delay...(being a resident is crazy busy and I’ve barely had time to sleep let alone write T_T) I present part two of this prompt! 

Kise and Murasakibara with Reader who gets lots of confessions 

Kise

While your boyfriend projected a “cool, easygoing” image of himself in his many photoshoots and interviews, you knew exactly what the blond-haired child model was really like in his normal life.

When the two of you had been captured by paparazzi out during a lunch date, suddenly, you were the focus of everyone’s attention. You’d expected it from Kise’s fangirls, who often followed him around and had screeching voices and shouts that could easily beat out the pitch of a banshee, but you weren’t expecting the sudden surge of admirers you had.

Whether it was a combination of sheer curiosity, or some sort of weird attraction the opposite sex had towards you, suddenly you were getting confessed to left and right.

It had gotten to the point where now, not only were females present during Rakuzan’s practice sessions, you had your own set of male students that came to watch you do your thing. Your job as a manager, noting down stats and planning out drills.

Nebuya offered to scare them all off, his biceps bulging as he scowled towards the ever growing group of people, but you figured they weren’t hurting anyone, and were surprisingly respectful of your space. So you let it go.

Until one day, when you couldn’t open your locker.

“Did someone change the combination?” You muttered to yourself, yanking on the steel latch, giving it another tug. What you didn’t expect was to literally get hit in the face by what seemed like the equivalent of a rose garden shoved into an admittedly small space.

And, all you could see was Kise. Well, not the actual Kise-although that boy had flexibility *wink wink cough cough*, even he wasn’t a master contortionist.

No, what you meant is you were bombarded by images of Kise. Magazine cutouts, selfies, candid shots-pictures upon pictures had been plastered on the inside of your locker.

Along with signs declaring, “_____-CCHI AND KISE LOVE LOVE FOREVER!!!” on long, rolling banners that slid out onto the floor. The sheer sparkle and glitter bombarded your eyes.

None of this prepared you, however for the sight that was to greet you that afternoon-namely, one Kise Ryouta, decked out in a suit that was printed with images of your face and phrases of “_____-cchi’s property”.

“I made us matching couple shirts, _____-cchi!!” Kise cheered, ignoring the flabbergasted looks that were coming from all corners of the gym. “Now, there’s no question as to just who you belong to~”

You could only sigh as Kise engulfed you in a hug, before tugging a sweatshirt over your head that was, indeed…plastered with pictures of your blonde-haired boyfriend in the most ostentatious way of marking you as his.

Murasakibara

Imagine having a koala clinging to you for entire days on end. While the thought may sound cute and adorable, imagine if that koala was actually a 6 foot tall, purple-haired, basketball player who could easily crush you at any moment.

“Atsushi, what are you even doing here?”

“Aka-chin told me to come.”

A complete lie. You knew that the Rakuzan basketball captain had not asked Murasakibara to come visit you, because that same captain was staring at the both of you with a light simmering of impatience and rage.

“Atsushi, Sei-chan looks like he’s going to kill us both.”

Blinking, Murasakibara looked up at you, then at Akashi. “I’ll crush him if he does.”

“What’s this really about, Atsushi?” You muse, running your fingers through his long, purple locks. The strands were soft and well conditioned, ever since you had mentioned to the purple-haired titan that you liked his hair long, even more so when he drew it up into a ponytail during his games when things got really serious. His head was currently resting on your lap, like a sunbathing panther enjoying its rest.

If you looked closely enough, you swore you could see ears popping up on his head and a long tail, swishing back and forth in contentment.

“I wanted to see _____-chin.”

“Well, do you really have to do it from this position?” You were carefully balancing your clipboard in your hands, trying not to accidentally hit your boyfriend in the face. “We can always hang out after practice…”

“No.”

“Atsushi. Seriously.”

“…Muro-chin told me that you got confessions.”

You blinked, suddenly connecting the pieces together. You had wondered why Himuro had texted you the day before, apologizing in advance for something. “What? They’re not being serious, Atsushi.”

“There’s people at my school who keep talking about you.” Murasakibara mutters, his mouth forming into a pout. “I wanted to crush them all, but Muro-chin said that I couldn’t see you if I was in prison.”

“That’s true. And sweet, but really, your goal should to just not be in prison.”

Murasakibara is more than content to just ignore your words, turning his body so his arms could loop around your waist, his large hands pulling you closer as he nuzzles into your stomach. The cute sight is almost just enough to distract you from the fact that you were still in the middle of a basketball practice, and this public display of affection was definitely not what you were expecting at all.

You had to pull out your trump card.

Setting down your clipboard, you gently grasp Murasakibara’s cheeks, leaning down and kissing him soundly on the lips. “Atsushi. I love you, and only you.” You murmur. “And if you let me finish this practice, I’ll let you eat cake from your favorite place later tonight.”

Murasakibara’s eyes blink wide open as he looks up at you. “Promise?” He replies, rising from his supine position to look at you directly, his hand curling around the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss.

“Promise.”

---

Masterpost

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[aspoonofsugar]

I was happy to discover you are in ATLA fandom too. Could you please share your thoughts on Azula? I like your analyses

Hello anon!

Thank you very much for the nice words and for this ask! I love Azula!

I think Azula’s character explores the idea of control:

In The Avatar State, she is shown training to master “lightening”. There, it is shown how losing control of even a small detail, like a lock of hair, is enough to make Azula angry.

It is not by chance that such a scene occurs in an episode focused on the Avatar State. As a matter of fact the Avatar State and the lightening can (partially) be compared when it comes to Aang and Zuko’s stories in book two. This book opens up with Aang trying to enter the Avatar State and with the lightening being introduced thanks to Azula’s character. What is more, both Aang and Zuko try to get a hold of the two different techniques throughout the season. Finally, both skills need for the user to “let go” of their feelings.

In particular, when it comes to the lightening, there are two different ways to interpret this:

Iroh: There is energy all around us. The energy is both Ying and Yang. Positive energy and negative energy. Only a select few firebenders can separate these energies. This creates an imbalance. The energy wants to restore balance and, in the moment the positive and negative energy come pressing back together, you provide release and guidance...creating lightening. (...) Remember, once you separate the energy you do not command it. You are simply its humble guide.”

Iroh: “Lightening is a pure expression of fire-bending without aggression. It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is. Some call lightening the cold blooded fire. It is precise precise and deadly, like Azula. To perform the technique requires peace of mind.”

On one hand Iroh’s description is interesting because it is as if creating lightening is a process of synthesis. You separate opposites and have them come back together, so that they can gain a new form. So it makes sense that, thematically, this new synthesis can happen only if the character overcomes their inner turmoil. This is also why Zuko is not able to learn the skill:

Iroh: “You will not be able to master lightening until you have dealt with the turmoil inside you.”

Zuko: “What turmoil!?”

Iroh: “Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away.”

In order to acquire it, he should let go of his shame, but he can’t do it. The fact that “shame” is what stops Zuko from making progress is interesting. As explained by Guru Pathick, thus, the fire chakra is the chakra of will and it is polluted by shame.

On the other hand the lightening is called cold-blooded firebending because it can be realized only by benders whose emotions are kept in check. I would argue that this is the reason why Azula is able to use this skill. It is not that she has reached a level of emotional maturity which lets her become a  “humble guide” to the energy. It is just that she constantly represses her feelings. This repression gives the idea that she is in perfect control, but this impression is a superficial one and it is proven wrong towards the end of the story.

In short, Zuko is not able to use lightening because of his explosive emotions, while Azula is able to because she restricts her feelings. Let’s highlight that this difference between the two siblings comes up again in a key episode aka The Beach:

Once again Zuko’s emotions are in full display. He is angry and nervous. He might not know why, but he is. Moreover he is finally able to express himself thanks to a confrontation with the other members of the group. Finally he does so while a giant fire erupts to highlight the catharsis of the moment. When it comes to Azula, she too opens up a little. In particular, she lets this slip:

Azula: I don't have sob stories like all of you. I could sit here and complain how our mom like Zuko more than me. But I don't really care. My own mother... thought I was a monster... She was right of course, but it still hurt.

Azula thinks that Ursa saw her as a monster. It is clear that the unsolved issues with her mother have left a sign on her. However, when she has the chance to truly let it all out, she does not. She changes the tone of the conversation and immediately leaves the topic. However, this does not mean that she is not troubled. If anything, her emotions keep burning behind a cold exterior, exactly like the fire, which burns under the ashes. Almost invisible, but still there.

About this, let’s consider two things.

1) In The Beach episode, Azula does something similar here:

Azula: “Come down to the beach with me. Come on! This place is depressing.”

Zuko starts talking about their past and their family, but Azula does not engage in the conversation and tells him to leave.

2) When Azula opens up, the others do not challenge her. They do not ask her what she meant nor they try to contradict what she said. This is different from what they have just done with each other. All in all, Zuko openly provokes Ty Lee and Ty Lee, Zuko and Azula all provoke May, until she shouts. Finally, all the girls keep asking Zuko who he is really angry with, until he is finally able to answer.

These two considerations can be linked to more general ideas.

a) Azula is a person who needs to always be in control. This has two consequences. The first is that she never lets herself be vulnerable. She is always on guard and closed up to others. The second is that she is like a fish out of water when there is nothing to control.

This is made clear in the episode The Beach:

Zuko: “Doing nothing is a waste of time. We are being sent a way in a force vacation. I feel like a child.”

In this episode, Azula and the others are given a break. However, Azula, just like Zuko, is not really able to take a break.

She is on an island and should relax, but the only way she manages to do so is by finding new enemies:

She must continually challenge herself and must change everything in a competition (and win it) in order not to face how empty she feels. This is why, in the end, her solution to the insecurities the beach re-awakens in her is to trash a party. She can’t fit in a group of pampered teenagers, so she ruins their evening. However, what Azula should really do is to try to understand why she does not fit.

The episode shows that Azula is ignorant when it comes to casual relationships:

Azula: “I am so used to people worshipping us”.

Ty Lee: “They should!”

Azula: “I know and I love it. But for once I just wanna see how people would react to us if they did not know who we were.”

She says so directly. She has been worshipped all her life. However, this means she does not know how people react to her outside of her role as a princess and a military leader.

The military aspect is especially interesting because, even if she does not disclose her identity as a royal, her attempts to bond are all centered around military topics:

Azula: “That's a sharp outfit, Chan. Careful, you could puncture the hull of an empire-class Fire Nation battle ship, leaving thousands to drown at sea. Because... it's so sharp.”

Azula: “Together you and I will be... THE STRONGEST COUPLE IN THE WHOLE WORLD! We will dominate the Earth!”

Her life has been a long training session for war, so she does not really know anything else. This is obvious both in how she can’t talk about other things and in how she sees others not like people, but like enemies/rivals.

This is also why the vacation in Amber Island could have been very important if Azula had been able to properly capitalize on it. All in all, The Beach is the episode where Azula is shown the most vulnerable (not counting the finale where she has a complete break-down).

She tries to change her approach to go along with others:

Azula: “Well that sounds really shallow and stupid...Let’s try it!

She openly apologizes and shows her insecurities:

“Look...maybe I just said it because I was a little...jealous.”

However, all of this is not enough to change the trajectory of her arc. Why is that so? This has to do with another aspect of Azula’s controlling tendencies. As a matter of fact not only does she controls herself, but also others.

b) Azula is presented since the beginning as a highly manipulative character. Manipulation is at the root of all her major relationships:

Zuko:You lied to me!

Azula: Like I've never done that before.

She lies to Zuko to catch him and forces Ty Lee to join her through manipulation. Moreover most of her plans rely on manipulation and lies. However, if you try to control and manipulate others you are unable to build healthy relationships.

This is what happens to Azula. As stated above, nobody replies to Azula when she opens up. Zuko could have very easily told her Ursa loved them both. May and Ty Lee could have tried to comfort her somehow. However, nobody does. And nobody does because they are all scared of Azula. In her attempt to control everybody, Azula has negated herself the chance to have  a relationship among equals.

What is more, it is clear that it is impossible to fully control others. The Beach starts to show this through Azula’s attempts to flirt. Without her status as a princess, her peers do not behave like she wants. She might be able to hook up with a guy by rehearsing and applying a strategy. However, building a relationship is not a military operation. It is not something that can be done through control, but only through respect and trust.

Azula fails to do so and this is why she is left behind by others. She is left behind by Zuko who breaks free from their father. She is left behind by Mai and Ty Lee who choose healthier relationships over the one they have with her. After she loses them, Azula starts spiralling out of control and burns everything around her.

In short, I would say that Azula’s main flaw is “control”. She wants to control everyone, herself included. So in the end she is betrayed and left behind by people and she herself loses control:

Ursa: I think you're confused. All your life you've used fear to control people. Like your friends Mai and Ty Lee.

Azula:Well what choice do I have? Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me.

This is especially tragic because it is clear that Azula’s behaviour is her answer to an environment where a clear line was drawn between winners and losers. Azula has always been Ozai’s favourite, but Ozai has never loved her. He loves Azula’s talent, so Azula cultivates those qualities which make her accepted by her father. What is more, Ozai is not a character who values feelings or emotions, so Azula represses these aspects of herself.

In conclusion, I think Azula is a very tragic character and that her spiral was very well written and realistic. I also think that in the series itself she has shown the potential to change for the better, but this possibility has not been explored. I mean, if she had no guilt nor regrets about her behaviour, she would not have seen the hallucination of her mother calling her out.

These are more or less my major thoughts on Azula. There are probably many other things to add, but as far as my generic impressions of her go, this is what I have to say. Feel free to make more specific questions! I love her!

Thank you for the ask!

[hollyxqx]

playing with fire  //  yoongi  //  01

↪ PARING: Min Yoongi x Reader ↪ GENRE: angst » smut » idol!au » enemies to lovers ↪ SUMMARY: Yoongi hates you. Or at least he thinks he does. (AKA the one where you work for BigHit and Yoongi is bad at feelings). ↪ WORD COUNT: 9k ↪ WARNINGS: angst | sex | oral sex (both m&f) | secret relationships | jealousy | mild possessive behaviour 

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

The instant Min Yoongi laid eyes on you, you annoyed him. You were introduced for the first time in another boring meeting he didn't want to attend, on his day off of all days and he was grumpy, having to be dragged here for your benefit. You annoyed him because you were obnoxiously positive and cheery. You annoyed him because everyone liked you straight away. Most of all, you annoyed him because you were beautiful, and he was willing to bet this fuss wouldn't have been made if you weren't.

He made a point to be polite but cool with you. He wasn't going to flap around you like some desperate teenage boy like the others were doing. Jin had already made not one but three bad jokes in an attempt to make you laugh, making Yoongi roll his eyes. Namjoon had even offered to take you out for lunch as a way of welcoming you to the team, which meant that Yoongi would be dragged along too, forced to spend even more time in your presence.

The restaurant Namjoon selected was one Yoongi hated, but Namjoon loved it for some reason. Yoongi hated the way they put garlic on everything. The group was led to a private room in the rear of the building and seated. You were sat opposite from Yoongi, which made him secretly glad. It meant he probably wouldn't have to talk to you much. You were animatedly talking away to Jin, anyway. Yoongi smirked to himself. Of course you liked Jin's lame jokes.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and Yoongi couldn't help but watch you walk away. He knew he was checking you out, your tight black jeans leaving nothing to the imagination and it bothered him. You were not his type of person, yet he was still succumbing to your looks like an animal. "She's really nice, isn't she?" Namjoon's voice tore him away from his thoughts.

"Hm, yeah, wonderful." Yoongi mumbled in reply, shovelling some more pork into his mouth, not even meeting his bandmates gaze.

"Do you like anyone?" Namjoon joked, nudging Yoongi playfully with his elbow. Yoongi rolled his eyes. "I think she's really cool. She seems like she will work really hard for us." The younger man mused.

"That's what she's paid for, Joon." Yoongi muttered. Namjoon just smiled, used to his friends attitude.

"Give her a chance hyung." Namjoon said, going back to his own food now.

Yoongi pretended not to notice when you returned from the bathroom, feeling a stubborn urge not to give you any more attention. He wondered if you secretly enjoyed having all these eyes on you. Probably. You were now talking to Namjoon in English, since it was your native language and Yoongi lost track of the conversation. He wasn't fluent enough to translate at the speed you were talking, plus you had an accent. Your English voice was actually quite pleasant, he thought. Although your Korean was good, you sounded starkly different in another language.

"Yoongi?" You were addressing him directly now, back to Korean. His eyes locked with yours. "Do you want the rest of my pork? I'm too full to finish."

He politely declined your offer. The pork was way too garlicy for his taste and he'd barely managed to finish his own, let alone second helpings. Once more he silently cursed Namjoon for recommending this place.

The group finished up their meal not long after and made to leave. As everyone filed out of the room, much to Yoongi's discomfort he was left to walk out next to you. He felt awkward. He had barely said anything to you since meeting you, and he was worried he was starting to come across as rude. Yoongi let out a deep breath and decided to make some conversation. "Did you like this place?" He asked you.

You quickly scanned around before leaning in closer and lowering your voice. "Don't tell Namjoon but..." You began quietly. "This place puts way too much garlic on everything. I swear it was even in my water."

Yoongi felt a smirk tug at his lips. He'd made almost that exact joke the first time he'd ever been dragged here by Joon. "At least you won't get bitten by a vampire on the way home." He joked. You laughed, giving him a big bright smile. God you really were pretty, he would be blind not to see it. For some reason he felt himself wondering if you had a boyfriend as he followed you out the restaurant.

Yoongi shook his head, as if to shake the thoughts out of his mind. Get a grip, he thought to himself. You were just a pretty girl. Nothing more, nothing less.

***

"Guess what?" Namjoon asked Yoongi, as they sat in the recording studio one night, just the two of them. They'd been working on a song together and had been having a bit of writers block, choosing to just hang out and wait for inspiration to come. Namjoon was lazily swirling in a swivel chair, aimlessly tossing a small ball up and down.

"What?" Yoongi asked, only half paying attention. His mind was focused on the computer screen in front of him, desperately thinking the longer he stared at it something would change.

"Jin kissed Y/N yesterday." Yoongi's mouth fell open in shock, eyes finally tearing away to look at Namjoon who didn't look phased in the least, still throwing and catching the same damn ball.

"Is she trying to get fired or...?" Yoongi said with a frown. An image of you and Jin, mouths locked and hands roaming each other appeared in his mind. It made him feel...weird.

"It's cute. Jin's had a crush on her ever since she started working with us." Namjoon said with a little smirk.

"So? She's staff." Yoongi reminded him. He turned back to the computer screen but he was still picturing you and Jin. Yoongi would be stupid not to pick up on how Jin tried to flirt with you. He noticed how Jin was always finding reasons to be alone with you. He was just surprised it worked. Even worse, a part of him was irritated it had and he wasn't sure why.

"If they wanna fool around and keep it secret, who cares?" Namjoon scoffed.

"Jin will if our fans ever find out about it." Yoongi muttered. "They sleeping together then?" He asked. He didn't mean to, it just kind of slipped out but he wanted to know.

"I think it was just a kiss." Namjoon shrugged. He threw the ball to Yoongi, who surprisingly reacted fast enough and caught it. Namjoon stood up and walked over to him. " Come on, I have an idea for this song."

Namjoon took the mouse from Yoongi and started editing and moving tracks around, but Yoongi was hardly paying attention. He couldn't understand why Joonie was so unbothered by the idea of you and Jin. Not only was it strictly against the rules, it was shocking. Jin never really hooked up a lot with girls. As Namjoon added some finishing touches to their work Yoongi couldn't help but ask himself, why does this bother me so much?

***

The next day at practice you were there. Namjoon's assumption of you at that first meeting had been accurate, you were very hard working. Technically, you were Sejin's assistant but you did anything and everything that was asked of you, often going above and beyond your call of duty. Even if it meant making sure Bangtan were fed and their laundry was done. Yoongi definitely picked up on that, noting how kind he thought you were to do so. Today you were filming their practice as they had a comeback scheduled soon and everyone was going hard.

If Yoongi hadn't known you and Jin kissed he'd never have been to tell, judging by the behaviour you two displayed. It was business as usual, as far as Yoongi could tell. Jin was still lamely flirting and you were still playfully ignoring it.

"This is it, I think you guys have nailed it." You said, as the eight of you watched back the footage you just recorded. Yoongi noticed Jin practising even harder and he wondered if it was because of you. You didn't usually sit in during dance practices. "You look great at this part here Yoongi."

The compliment took him by surprise. "Thanks," He mumbled, feeling himself blush a little.

"What about me?" Jin asked, a little defensively Yoongi noted.

"You look great too Jin." You added, playfully rolling your eyes. "I was just distracted by Yoongi.

Yoongi blushed again, cheeks heating up even more this time. He couldn't help his body react to you. You were distracted by him. What did that mean exactly? Had you been checking him out or just been impressed by his dancing?

"Let's go again." Namjoon announced. Everyone got into formation again while you went to the stereo player. You pressed play and stepped back to watch. Yoongi had his cap pulled down low on his head, the brim shielding his eyes, that way every time he caught you watching him you never noticed. It strangely made him feel a little proud having your gaze on him.

The song ended and Yoongi collapsed on the floor, panting and sweaty, the rest of the boys following suit. You turned off the music, so the song wouldn't play again. "Even better this time." Your voice broke the sound of the heavy breathing in the room. "This comeback is going to be the best one yet."

No one said anything at first, everyone spent from practicing all morning before Jin spoke up. "Can we order food now Y/N?"

"Of course. The usual, boys?" You asked. There were murmurs of agreement amongst everyone. You had fetched lunch for them so many times now you knew pretty much exactly what everyone wanted. "Ok, let's take a break then and I'll run out and pick some stuff up for you."

You walked over to your bag, lifting your handbag and keys. "I'll come with you?" Jin asked taking Yoongi by surprise. He eyed the older male carefully as he stood up. This was new. You always went alone on lunch runs. Yoongi watched you to see your reaction. If it phased you, you didn't show it. Instead you gave Jin a small smile.

"Sure. We won't be long, guys." You said to the room.

Evidently no one else seemed to think it was weird that Jin offered to go with you. No one mentioned it after you left together, although Namjoon gave you a knowing smirk. The idea of you and Jin sneaking off to make out made Yoongi feel uncomfortable. You were at work. Surely you wouldn't be so unprofessional. His stomach rumbled. He hoped you would be back soon.

"Joon?" Yoongi asked, pulling Namjoon to the side, out of earshot. "Who else knows about Y/N and Jin?"

"Just us." Namjoon replied, looking a little confused at the question. "And Jin obviously. Why?"

"I just wanted to know." Yoongi replied. Namjoon still looked confused but he dropped the subject. The two men re-joined the rest of the group, who were fooling around and laughing about something. "What is so funny?" Yoongi asked, reaching over to snatch his water bottle from Jimin.

"I found Y/N's secret instagram." Jimin snickered. Yoongi cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Here." Jimin held out his phone. On the screen was your instagram feed.

"Why were you even looking for this?" Yoongi muttered as his eyes scanned the images. He froze when his eyes landed on a very scantily clad y/n sitting by a pool. He knew you would a nice body, he was a man who had eyes, but seeing it bare and not wrapped up in oversized clothes made his breath hitch.

"I was curious about her. She's foreign and I wanted to know more." Jimin shrugged.

"You're a creep." Yoongi pushed the phone away. He wanted to see more but didn't want the boys to know that fact. Jimin just grinned like a cat who got the cream.

About 30 minutes later, Y/N returned with Jin, food in tow. "I've got food!" You called, entering the practice room. The boys all rushed around you, Yoongi lagging behind. He was thinking about your half naked picture and he felt a little guilty, like you would be able to tell by looking at him. "Here you go guys." You and Jin set the many bags down on the table.

Yoongi noticed Jin snatch his food and storm off to one side of the practice room. That was unusual. His whole demeanour had changed since he left. You seemed the same, but Yoongi often struggled to read you. You were a lot like him, keeping your emotions very close to your chest. He collected his own lunch and walked over to join Jin.

"Are you ok hyung?" Yoongi asked, letting out a puff of air as he sank down on to the floor next to him.

"Yup." Jin replied coolly.

"You sure?" Yoongi prodded.

"100%" He knew Jin was lying but he also knew him well enough to not push it further. What had happened when you and Jin were alone? Yoongi couldn't help but wonder.

***

Yoongi didn't have much time to think about you and Jin over the next week. Schedules had intensified even further and any spare time Yoongi had he was working on new music. His body ached from the amount of time he had spent dancing and working out the last few days. He decided to go for a swim. The company building had a gym in the basement, equipped with it's own pool. Yoongi decided a late night dip would be perfect. It was after midnight and he'd have the whole pool to himself.

He walked in to the pool area topless, already in his swim shorts. Usually he would wear a t-shirt as well but he had expected to be alone. Which is why when his eyes landed on you, mid lap in the pool he felt suddenly shy.

He watched as you reached the edge of the pool, placing both palms on the tiles and hoisting yourself out of the water. You strode over to your towel that was tossed over at the seating area. Yoongi gulped as he took in your frame. That bikini you had on was the same as the one in the photo he saw, except this time he was seeing it in person. It had bunched up a little at the back and he couldn't help but check out your ass.

"Yoongi!" You gasped, finally noticing him standing there. He hoped you didn't catch him gawking at you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt..." Yoongi trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"That's ok!" You replied, towelling off the excess water on your face, catching your breath. You must have been swimming hard. "I just didn't expect to see anyone else in here."

Yoongi shrugged. "I just felt like a swim. Body is sore after practicing."

"You've been working so hard. You all have." You replied. An awkward silence hung in the air, neither of you sure what to say next. Yoongi wanted to swim and he wasn't sure if you were done or not. You both sort of just looked at each other. "Do you...mind? I won't be much longer." You asked cautiously.

Yoongi kind of just wanted to look at you for longer. "Sure. Go for it." He sat his towel down and stretched a little. His back was towards you but he heard you dive back into the pool and begin to swim again. He took a deep breath and turned round. You were halfway across the length of the pool already. He noted that you swam really well. Mimicking your actions he dived in to the cool water too.

As he started to swim he held back in a groan, even though he had stretched his muscles were still stiff and sore. He completed one length of the pool and took a moment to rest at the edge. You had already nearly lapped him. A desire to ensure you didn't think he was weak pulsed through him. He kicked off the wall and dived into another lap. By the time he was at the shallow end of the pool his body was screaming at him, forcing him in to another rest break.

"Are you ok?" You panted, joining him at this side of the pool. Yoogni nodded but the way his face was scrunched up gave him away. "What's wrong?"

"My body hurts, I think I just need to take it easy." He finally admitted. Before he could even blink you were by his side, a worried look etched across your face.

"Is it your shoulder?" You asked, taking him a back. His body language certainly wouldn't have told you that information and he never told you he'd injured it previously. It wasn't widely known either.

"How did you know about that?" He asked, surprised.

You shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. "I know everything about you boys. It's my job."

Without meaning to Yoongi frowned a little. "It is my shoulder." He sighed.

"Listen, I had a really similar injury, let me show you something." You said. Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you. He was realising how little he actually knew about you, even though you had worked with Bangtan for months now. His eyes were on you as you gently took his elbow and pulled it in to a stretch. With your free hand you started to massage his shoulder. Yoongi gulped.

It worked, and most of the ache he was feeling was instantly relieved. He made a mental note to remember this stretch. As you worked your hands his eyes raked over you, falling to your breasts that were just above water level. A droplet of water ran from your neck and down your chest, disappearing in the space between your cleavage. Yoongi knew he shouldn't have been staring but he couldn't help it when you were this close to him.

Between the view before him, your hands touching him and your body against his he felt himself start to grow hard. Mentally he cursed himself. This was his punishment for ogling you. "How does that feel now?" Your voice was a welcome distraction, even if the slight huskiness to it sounded sexy.

"Good, thank you." Yoongi managed to get out. You took a little step away from him and smiled. He noticed for the first time how short you were, realising he'd never seen you out of a heel of some sort. He liked it, it was rare that he got to feel tall. He watched as you adjusted your bikini top and the way your breasts bounced made his dick throb, bringing his attention back to his hard length.

"Just make sure you rest it soon ok?" You advised. Yoongi nodded, distracted. He was trying to will the erection away with sheer mental strength. The last thing he wanted was to be caught and embarrass himself. He can't believe that he'd actually got hard in public, it hadn't happened since he was an hormonal teenager.  "You're still in pain." You stated, having noticed Yoongi's strained expression.

"No, I'm fine." He said, a little too quickly. You reach out to touch his arm and he leapt away at your touch, feeling guilty at your confused expression.

"Is it just my company then?" You joked, the corner of your mouth lifting up slightly. Your tone was light and playful but Yoongi could sense there was an underlying sense of truth there.

"No," He muttered. "Just trying to stay professional. I'm not Jin." The words spilled out before he could stop himself. He was a man of few words but he was always honest, and sometimes that got him in to a little bit of trouble. Yoongi hated falseness in people, which was part of the reason why you made him so irritated.

"I'm very aware of who you are, Yoongi." You replied with a frown. "I don't see why me helping you isn't professional but whatever. And as for Jin, you don't know what you are talking about."

Clearly Yoongi had struck a nerve, the jab at your work ethic seemed to be a sore spot. "That's your business, I'm just saying I keep work at work, and personal stuff out it."

"So do I." You said coolly.

"So kissing Jin is part of your job now?" He said quietly, rolling his eyes. Your expression remained steely and collected.

"Yoongi," You stated. "He kissed me. I had zero intention of that happening, ever."

"I don't care." He stated. He went to move away again, hoping to end this conversation once and for all. You gripped his arm.

"I'm serious. He took me by complete surprise...and when I told him that it could never, ever happen again he threw a tantrum." You said looking a little sad. "I don't like that you think of me like that."

Yoongi's mind went back to that day at practice, where Jin was extra moody after going out to pick up lunch with you. Was that really the reason for his strop? Maybe Yoongi had underestimated you after all. "Fine, whatever." You were still gripping his arm and he was hyper aware of your touch. "You scared you gonna drown or something?" He muttered, pointing to your arm.

"Sorry." You said sheepishly, withdrawing your hand.

"I'm going to swim now." That was the last thing Yoongi said before moving away from you and beginning another lap. You took that as your cue to leave.

***

Two days later, the boys of Bangtan were in a meeting with you and Sejin, discussing the upcoming comeback and tour schedule. Yoongi wasn't sure if he was secretly pleased or upset that you were coming on tour with them. Tour life was intense, and you'd be spending even more time in close proximity. His eyes flickered over to Jin to gauge the older boy's reaction. He was staring at the itinerary in front of him, with a frown.

You hadn't said much during the meeting, letting Sejin take the lead. Yoongi had tried to avoid looking at you directly since the stint in the pool, but he let his gaze fall on you now and as usual, your expression was neutral.

The schedule was packed, the tour spanning at least 3 months straight overseas. Yoongi noted there was even going to be a tourbus this time. He really wasn't looking forward to the idea of sleeping in a claustrophobic bunk. At least there were plenty of nights booked in hotels along the way.

"And lastly, if there's anything you need before we leave in two weeks, please let Y/N know now." Sejin's voice brought Yoongi's head up and he looked at his manager, racking his brain to think if there was anything he did need.

"My suitcase is broken, can you get me a new one please?" Jungkook asked first.

"Of course." You made a note in your phone. "I know which one you had before, do you want the same again?"

Damn, Yoongi thought. You really did know everything about them. He was starting to think he was wrong about you.

***

Tourbus life was as crappy as Yoongi expected it to be. By day 3 he could barely take it anymore. The only thing getting him through it was knowing day 4 was a hotel night. He was looking forward to sleeping in a bed bigger than the width of a bunk and maybe even having a bath. The tour bus had a shower but again, it was just as claustrophobic as the bunks.

1am rolled by and Yoongi still wasn't able to sleep. It was so hard to get comfortable in the confined space. To add insult to injury his bunk was directly above Taehyung's and he could hear his bandmates snoring so loudly, he may as well have been in bed next to him. He sighed and checked his phone for the 10th time, feeling restless. An idea occurred to him.

There was a huge sofa/lounge area at the back of the bus. It folded out in to a double bed but in the interest of fairness, the whole team agreed no one would have it as their sleeping quarters, instead it would just be a place to hang out. Yoongi thought no one would mind if he just spent one night there. So he grabbed his phone and a blanket and scrambled out the bunk, making his way to the back of the bus.

The dim spotlights in the room gave it a cosy atmosphere and he knew he had made the right decision. He would sleep well here. There was even a T.V which he flicked on, keeping the volume low so as not to wake any one. Yoongi fluffed up the pillows and made himself comfortable. It wasn't long before his eyes started to feel heavy, the low hum of the tourbus engine soothing him to sleep. Just as he was on the cusp of actually being asleep, the door opened.

"Oh god, sorry!" Yoongi's eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, instantly awake. "I didn't think anyone would be in here..." You trailed off. He couldn't help but notice you looked a little embarrassed.

"Couldn't sleep." He yawned.

"Me either." You said quietly. "I get so claustrophobic in those bunks. Feels like I'm in a coffin."

"I'm the same." Yoongie mumbled. You had had the same idea he did. Typical that it was on the same night. "In here is better though, I was nearly asleep before you barged in."

"I know, I slept here last night." You were always so unphased by Yoongi's snarkiness. Part of him wanted you to react, push it until he was being borderline rude.

"You did?" He asked, and you nodded. "Well it's my turn tonight then."

"Play fair, Yoongi." You quipped back, a slight frown on your face.

"I am," He retorted. "You had it last night, so tonight's mine."

"That bed is big enough for two people." You pointed out, gesturing to the empty space next to him.

"What?" He said, letting out a puff of air. "You are not suggesting what I think you are."

"Definitely am." You said boldly. "I'm small you won't even notice me."

"No." He stated, bluntly. "Not happening." He settled back in, making himself comfortable and  closed his eyes once more.

"Yoongi, although tomorrow is a day off for you, I have 12 hours worth of meetings, press and errands to do. I need to get some sleep." You were almost begging now. Yoongi smirked but you stood your ground.

"Say please."

You huffed and rolled your eyes. "Please," You repeated.

"Now say 'please Yoongi'." He added, smirking harder than ever.

"Yoongi." You said in a warning tone. His expression didn't falter, a gleeful tint in his eyes. "Fine," You sighed. "Please Yoongi."

He laughed, enjoying teasing you. Yoongi patted the space beside him and you carefully, almost reluctantly climbed in to the bed next to him. You both had separate blankets, so it's not like you would be touching but he still felt insanely aware of your body next to him. He rolled over, his back to you and shut his eyes. He could hear you trying to get comfy and it wasn't long until you settled in to sleep, Yoongi following you shortly after.

***

You were gone when Yoongi awoke the next morning. His eyes flickered open, the room bright with sunshine and he rubbed at them sleepily. He looked at the empty spot you had occupied in the bed. It still smelled like your perfume. You must have not been long gone. He sat up in the bed, trying to orientate himself when he noticed something on the small shelf by the window. It was a note and some...food?

'Yoongi Even though you are a DICK I wanted to say thank you for letting me sleep last night. I left you breakfast and ordered you a starbucks, it's downstairs.

- Y/N '

Yoongi let out a little laugh when he notice the word 'dick' was underlined three times to emphasize it. He didn't think he was that bad but he liked that you had a sense of humour about it. You seemed to understand him and in some ways, be quite similar to him. Dare he say it, you were starting to grow on him and Yoongi was not an easy person to win over.

He gathered his things and made his way down stairs to the lower level of the tour bus. The section on the first floor was a lot smaller, but it had a nice kitchenette and dining area. There on the counter was an iced americano. Yoongi wasn't surprised to see you remembered it was his order. You always did. He grabbed it and sat down, unlocking his phone and scrolling through some news.

"Morning Yoongi." Jin said, appearing in the kitchen. Yoongi hadn't even heard him come down the stairs. "Where'd you get that?" Jin asked, pointing to the starbucks cup.

"Y/N." Was all Yoongi replied, going back to his phone. He wasn't really a morning person, unlike Jin.

"She only got for you? No one else?" Jin asked, not letting the subject drop. Yoongi sighed inwardly. He knew Jin was only pressing because you got that for him. If it was Sejin he wouldn't give a fuck.

"Yeah, I guess." Yoongi mumbled, deliberately being vague.

"Why?" Jin pried.

"Why do you care?" Yoongi challenged.

"I don't." Jin said so defensively, he practically contradicted himself. "I'm just curious."

Yoongi smirked. "It was to say thank you." He replied, watching Jin's face carefully to see the reaction.

"For...?" Jin flicked his wrist in a circle, motioning to Yoongi to elaborate.

"I let her sleep with me last night." He said to the elder, deviously phrasing the sentence in a misleading way, making it sound as if the two of you had had sex. Jin's eyes went wide, practically bulging out of his head.

"What?!" He almost shouted. Yoongi laughed. "You slept with her?"

"Yep." Yoongi nodded, sipping his coffee. He knew he should have explained but he wanted to enjoy the outrage from Jin just one more time.

"On the bus? Last night? Next to my bunk?" Jin asked, outraged.

"Nah, in the back room." Yoongi corrected. Jin looked annoyed. "Don't worry hyung, all we did was sleep." Jin's expression relaxed a little but he still didn't look happy. "She's claustrophobic, like me. We both had the same idea and ended up in the back lounge. It was just by chance."

"You let me think something else on purpose!" He yelled, punching Yoongi on the arm playfully and the two men laughed, both knowing it was true.

"I know you like her, don't worry." Yoongi said quietly. Jin's cheeks tinged pink slightly at the revelation. It was kind of an open secret any way but Yoongi wanted to let his friend know he knew.

"She doesn't like me though." Jin admitted. "She told me it can't ever happen."

"That might not be totally true," Yoongi countered. "She takes her job very seriously. Doesn't want to fuck it up."

"Yeah, maybe." Jin said, with a sigh. "Come on, we need to go check in to the hotel now anyway."

***

Yoongi didn't see you again until 9pm that night. He thought you looked tired the moment he laid eyes on you, and then remembered your comment the previous night about a busy day. He had to remind himself that all of your hard work was for his and Bangtan's benefit and he was grateful.

The crew had eaten dinner, celebrating a successful start to the tour. Today's stopover was in Texas for the show tomorrow night, the second one of the whole leg. Yoongi had only ever been here once before and he was looking forward to it. Even more so, he was looking forward to his hotel bed.

Yoongi was unlocking the door to his hotel room when he noticed you walking down the hall, suitcase in tow. You locked eyes. He gave you a small smile. "Thanks for the coffee, Y/N."

"Thanks for the 8 hours of sleep." You replied, grinning as you walked to your own room, which happened to be opposite to his.

"Do you want a hand with that?" Yoongi asked, pointing to your suitcase. It looked heavy and he could already see you struggling a little.

"Oh yeah, thanks." You said. Yoongi let his door swing shut and lock once more as he walked over to help you. He grabbed the case from you, moving it easily and you let him in to your room. His eyes fell on the bed, eyebrow raising.

"You're not sharing a room with anyone?" He asked. Usually everyone had to pair up in a hotel. Yoongi was stuck with Namjoon for this particular stay. He hoisted your suitcase on to the luggage rack.

"No," You said, yawning slightly. "There was an odd number. I'm a loner tonight."

"Lucky you."

"Y'know, I actually hate sleeping alone." You confessed with a laugh. Yoongi raised his brow in surprise. "If I'm alone I always need the tv or a podcast on."

"Is that why you begged to sleep with me last night? Pretended to be claustrophobic so you could get close to me?" Yoongi teased, earning him an eye roll from you. "Don't get any ideas tonight. That was a one time thing."

You threw the nearest pillow at him but Yoongi caught it, laughing at your attempted attack. "Just when I think you're being nice, you act like that." You sighed.

"I am nice." Yoongi defended himself.

"Not to me." You mumbled, but he caught it.

"Why do you think that?" He asked. You shook your head, dismissing both him and the question. Yoongi dropped the pillow and walked over to you, grabbing your arm. "No,  go on, have some courage. Be honest with me."

You looked at each other in the eyes for a moment, yours searching his for an explanation for this sudden question.

"You have been cold, borderline rude to me since the day I started at BigHit." You said confidently, accepting his challenge to be courageous. "Every other person in that building has been more welcoming than you." Yoongi stayed silent, but his grip on your arm didn't falter.

"But you're used to that, arent you?" He said lowly, leaning in closely. You held your reserve, not even blinking as his face inched closer towards yours. "Attention." The word drips off his tongue like poison, almost as if it was a curse word.

"Says the Kpop Idol." You replied, coolly.

"I get attention because I work hard, not because I'm a pretty girl batting her eye lashes at every one." He replied, just as coolly as you had. You were going toe for toe here.

"So you're not a hot guy doing the same thing? Pfft." You were the first to break eye contact, rolling your eyes away from him. Yoongi couldn't help his stomach lurching at the fact that you just called him a hot guy. He never would have thought you would think that. He yanked your arm, pulling you closer so that your bodies were touch, your attention forced back to him.

"You're attracted to me, Y/N?" Yoongi said, his tone almost deadly now.

"As much as you are to me, I'd say." You said. His eyes flicked down to your lips, watching you wet them with your tongue. Before the logical side of his brain could intervene he grabbed the side of your face with his free hand, and crashed his lips against yours. It knocked you for a moment and he noticed you didn't kiss back right away but that quickly changed when he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, asking to be let in.

You parted your mouth for him and he dropped the death grip he had on your arm, bringing that hand to the small of your back, pressing your body even further in to his. The kiss started to get sloppy, he was losing control and he could tell you were too, nipping at his bottom lip and running hands through his hair.

Yoongi was vaguely aware of the bed behind him and he stumbled back, sitting on the edge. He guided you to his lap so that you were straddling him and he couldn't help but run his hands up your thighs, cupping your ass. "Yoongi," You moaned, breathless. He looked at you, your pupils blown wide, lips plump from kissing. "Yoongi we need to stop."

He knew you were right. But that didn't stop him from sliding a hand round the back of your neck and pulling you in for more. The hand that was on your ass slid up the back of your shirt and he expertly undid your bra clasp. His mouth went to your neck as he placed wet, desperate kisses there, relishing when it made you moan out loud.

His hands slid to your still clothed front and he moved them up under your bra, groaning in your neck at the feel of your tits. He'd wanted to touch them like this ever since he saw you that day at the pool. He couldn't take his eyes off of them then. And now he was so desperate he hadn't even bothered to remove your shirt. "Yoongi, ah -  You moaned when he rolled your nipples between his thumbs. "Stop, stop, stop." Your words were coming out like moans.

Hands still on your breasts, he pulled away, using all of his willpower not to continue. Your chest was heaving. He couldn't help but want to fuck you right then and there. "You really want me to stop?" He asked, searching your eyes with his own. You nodded.

"Yes, this is a bad idea." You said quietly. Yoongi removed his hands from you and you rolled off his lap, sitting down beside him. He watched you reattach your bra and he couldn't help but feel a sting of rejection in his chest. You clearly wanted this too, so why were you denying him?

"At least I got further than Jin." He muttered, sighing. The next thing he felt was a slap on the arm. A rather hard slap on the arm.

"You're a fucking asshole for that, Min Yoongi. Get out of my room now!" You shouted.

"Gladly." He rolled his eyes, stuffing those hurt feelings down again once more and stormed out of your room.

***

Yoongi wasn't surprised when you completely ignored him at the show the next night. You didn't even glance in his direction once, he was almost impressed at your will and determination. When the show was done and everybody was leaving the venue, making their way to the tourbus his attention was on you, eyes on the back of your head as you walked with Jin and Namjoon. Even the screaming fans waiting outside the arena couldn't pull his attention away from you.

Once everyone was on the bus, most of the team settled downstairs for some drinks and to hang out. Yoongi noticed you excuse yourself and disappear upstairs. This was his moment. He seized the opportunity and followed you, slipping away unnoticed.

His eyes landed on you at your bunk, holding some clothes to sleep in. Clearly you were headed straight for bed. "Y/N?" Yoongi spoke quietly and although you didn't look at him he saw you freeze for a second. You ignored him and carried on getting your things ready for bed. "Y/N." Yoongi sighed. "Y/N look at me."

Why was it so easy for you to blank him? He was getting frustrated now. "Y/N I'm sorry!" He said louder.

"Keep your voice down." You said calmly. At least you'd acknowledged him. Still, you refused to look at him.

"I really am sorry, I was such an asshole yesterday." He said, his voice hushed now. You sighed and turned to look at him, hugging the bundle of clothing in your arms to your chest.

"That's ok." You said, almost coldly. You began to walk away but he stepped sideways, blocking your path, no way round him in the narrow space between the bunks.

"I mean it." He said, trying not to sound as frustrated as he was at your lack of emotion. You looked at him, almost bored. He felt that same flare of rejection in him as before. It stung, bitterly. "I'll be sleeping in the back again tonight if you want to talk." He offered.

You said nothing, pushing past him and walking away.

***

To Yoongi's utter and complete surprise you were already in the back lounge by the time he made it to bed. Propped up against the pillows, arms crossed and watching TV you didn't even look at him when he opened the door. "You're here." He said, shutting the door behind him. "Are you....sleeping here?"

"Depends on what you've got to say." You said quietly, eyes still on the screen. It was annoying him that you wouldn't look at him, so snatching the remote he turned it off. He wanted your full attention. Yoongi sat on the bed opposite you, not even asking permission if he could. At this point even if you had said no he wouldn't have listened. The fact that you were here meant you wanted to listen so he'd talk no matter what.

"I'm an asshole." He stated.

"Correct."

"You didn't deserve that." He paused.

"Even more correct." You added before he could speak again.

He sighed. Of course you weren't going to make it easy for him. You reminded him so much of himself in that moment he almost wanted to laugh. Did his friends feel this way too when he was being stubborn? "I really would like it if you would forgive me. Because I am sorry. Because we have to work together....and mostly, because I don't want to hurt anyone, let alone you."

He noticed your face soften a little at the last part of his apology. "I just don't understand why you would even say such a thing. Do you think I'm some kind of slut? Trying to fuck my way through BangTan?"

"No, no of course not..."

"Then why?" You pressed. "Have some courage, Yoongi." You mocked, using his own words from last night against him.

"You rejected me like you rejected Jin, and I was...hurt." He admitted. Yoongi hated feeling vulnerable and you were making him very vulnerable in that moment. He was the kind of person to just store up his negative feelings, letting them manifest themselves in other ways, mainly pouring the sadness into his songwriting.

"That's technically true." You agreed. "But I rejected Jin because I wasn't interested. I told you to stop because it was a bad idea to continue. I was definitely interested."

Yoongi raised a brow at you. That certainly made your shut down of him more bearable. "Is it really such a bad idea though?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"You know the answer to that." You rolled your eyes.

"What if it happened just once? I wouldn't tell anyone..." He tempted.

"It's too risky." You said, almost in a whisper. The way you were looking at him made Yoongi realise you were definitely at least considering it. Eyes studying his face, pupils wide.

"That's a shame, because I think it would be great."

The way you bit your lip in response sent desire shooting through his entire body. He picked up the edge of the blanket that was covering you and moved the entire thing to the side, exposing your body. Yoongi eyed your tiny shorts that barely covered your ass, marvelling at how amazing your legs were. "Yoongi," You whispered. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he shifted so he was on his knees and crawled over you, using his hands to prop himself up, hovering just above your face. He was waiting for you to tell him to stop again but the words didn't come. He went for it, pressing his lips to yours, hungrily. You responded straight away, kissing him back with just as much need. He dropped down on to his forearms, holding you more comfortably and pressed himself in to you. The way you moaned in to his mouth only spurred him on.

He kissed down your neck to your collarbone, dragging down the material of your pyjama vest top along the way. His breath trapped in his throat when he saw you were braless. He palmed and grabbed at your tits, moving his mouth to the exposed nipple. He couldn't stop himself from grinning when you moaned. "Shhhh," He whispered, kissing back up to your throat. "We have to be quiet." He said against your skin, sucking and nipping the flesh between his teeth.

You were burning hot beneath him, panting with want. Yoongi let you pull his lips back to yours in a heated kiss, and he groaned into your mouth when you rubbed your hand over his clothed erection. "Fuck, Yoongi." You whispered at the contact, feeling the girth of him. He roughly took hold of your hand that was touching him and pinned it next to your head. He didn't want to get too worked up just yet.

With his free hand he pulled your pyjama shorts down your legs. His hand traced the outline of your pussy, teasing you. The way you shivered only turned him on more. "This is ok, right?" He murmured and you nodded. He took the consent and went straight for your clit, enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him. He watched you for a few moments, just taking it in. "Unbelievable." He murmured.

"Yoongi," You panted. He didn't relent, choosing to slip two fingers in to you. "Yoongi, god - ."

He couldn't wait any longer. Yoongi tore his hands away from you, pushing down his shorts and freeing his cock. He silently smirked at the way you eyed him in surprise. He took the hand you had stroked him with before and guided it to his length, encouraging you to move it up and down. It felt so good to him he was reluctant for you to stop, but after a few minutes he teared your hands away. "Can I fuck you, Y/N?" He whispered, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck, anywhere he could reach. You nodded.

He positioned himself at your entrance, giving you one last look before pushing in swiftly. You gasped at the sensation. "Shhh," He mumbled, kissing you in to silence. "Do you want everyone to know you're getting fucked?" You blushed at his words and he couldn't help but smile a little.

Yoongi started to move, pistoning himself in and out of you, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. The way you were squeezing around him was making him light headed. He didn't know how long he was going to be able to hold on for, but he really wanted to watch you come undone around him. He guided your hand down to your clit, encouraging you to touch yourself. You looked incredible to him like this.

"Shit," You moaned. His thrusts were unsteady now and he was sloppily sucking on your neck. "Shit, I'm going to come."

Yoongi barely held on feeling you clamp around him. His release followed shortly after, and he groaned louder than he would have liked but it was involuntary. He collapsed on top of you, his shirt clinging to him, damp with sweat. "Fuck." He muttered, out of breath. He rolled off you and watched as you pulled your pj shorts back up. "I hope no one heard that. You're so loud." He gave you a lopsided grin and you flushed with embarrassment.

"Please don't tell anyone about this." You said quietly, once you'd sorted your self out. He laid on his back next to you, watching you curiously.

"I won't."

"I mean it," You stressed. You rolled on your side to face him. "They can't fire you, but I can be replaced in a heartbeat."

He felt a pang of guilt in his chest at your words. He knew you were right, and he knew he had got carried away. "I won't." He repeated. "It'll be our secret, ok?"

"Ok." You said, assured for now. He didn't even realise he was doing it but he leaned in and kissed your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture. He just wanted you to know he would keep his promise.

"Lets get some sleep, ok?" He mumbled, closing his eyes and getting comfortable. He felt you relax next to him and it made him feel strangely happy, warm even.

↪  chapter 02 | masterlist

[bookclubforghosts]

@ the people who come into my askbox, DMs, and replies claiming that supporting businesses owned by POC is the “New Racism”

1. I want you to sit and think for a second about why it makes you uncomfortable that there are lists of stores owned by POC (People of Color) on your dash. 

2. These lists aren’t saying that you should Only Shop Here. 

3. These lists *are* saying that these are Cool Small Businesses with SICK products (owned by people who are members of Marginalized Groups) and I believe these businesses deserve some support, so if you like these styles/products, maybe shop here. 

“Well, why should I shop here? I don’t see color. Why does race matter?”

1. Claiming you don’t see color erases the struggles that racism inflicts on POC as well as erasing their cultures and histories. American society has a racism problem, one that is old and deeply steeped in the way that the society is constructed (like, older-than-the-country-itself old.) Denying that this problem exists, or denying that race as a whole exists, only causes more problems. 

As a white person, I will never know what it feels like to be judged based on the color of my skin. I could claim that I “don’t see color” and ignore these issues completely because they don’t impact me, but that’s the wrong move to make. Just because I haven’t experienced it, doesn’t mean it’s not real. For example, that’d be like saying I don’t believe in Sweden because I’ve never been there. That statement erases a whole country and that country’s history because I would be claiming not to believe in/acknowledge it. 

2. Shopping Black-owned/POC-owned in general is like voting with your dollar, as well as often (but not always) supporting small businesses. How and why?

Shopping POC-owned (esp. Black-owned) helps close the racial wealth gap, a gap that has been forcibly constructed since the before our country began because of slavery and then because of Jim Crow laws and other oppressive moves made by racist governments. 

(image source: https://www.forbes.com/sites/laurashin/2015/03/26/the-racial-wealth-gap-why-a-typical-white-household-has-16-times-the-wealth-of-a-black-one/#3c7a2a091f45 )

Choosing to buy from a small business helps boost Local Economies and foster job creation. The more $$ you spend at a POC-owned small business (either in your community or online), the more $$ goes back into that economy. It also means that $$ isn’t going into the pocket of a billionaire CEO who got there through labor exploitation *cough Jeff Bezos cough*. It helps create jobs in this local economy because the more $$ a business makes and the more demand for their product, the more the business can expand and the more people they can afford hire.

Choosing to shop POC-owned also sends a message aka voting with your dollar. When you choose to support a Black-owned alternative brand over a brand like Dolls Kill (repeat offender as far as racist statements, products, & actions of the business owner), you’re taking your business out of the racist company, telling them that when you do racist things you lose money (which, it shouldn’t take $$ to make someone realize that racism is bad, but for some people it does unfortunately). A lot of large companies will vocally support minorities while their practices do the opposite. Additionally, while sending this message to the racist companies, you’re also empowering the smaller companies and the community around them.

Shopping from a POC-owned brand also celebrates the culture that person is from, as opposed to appropriating it. For example, Scrumptious Wicks is an Indian-American-owned business. The creator says she takes a lot of inspiration from her culture and her home growing up when creating her candle scents. Another example is buying from an Indigenous person directly and supporting their tribe and their tribe’s culture, as opposed to buying something mass-produced and inaccurate and claiming it’s “Native Chic” (ex. mass-produced Dream Catchers vs buying from the Ojibwe people).

3. Finally, let’s talk about visibility and representation. Think for a second. When you think “entrepreneur” or “business owner” what do you picture? Chances are, you picture a white person, probably a white man in a fancy suit holding a clipboard or standing in an office or something. Marketing is overwhelmingly white-centric. I don’t have to work hard to find people who look like me in media, including the commercials/ads for shops and the businesses in my area, and that is an example of white privilege. Uplifting People of Color and increasing representation means boosting their voices, creations, and businesses.

If you read all this and you’re still gonna complain about the business lists, I will take your Target privileges. You may no longer go to Target. Are you still complaining? I’m taking your Whole Foods privileges too.

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.20: Court Martial

AKA: Photoshop Is Nine-Tenths of the Law 

Our episode begins with a captain’s log telling us that the Enterprise has been through a severe ion storm, which wrecked up the ship and caused one fatality. Bummer. Evidently the damage was so considerable that for once Scotty can’t just fix it on his own, so Kirk’s ordered an unscheduled layover at Starbase 11 for repairs. Aw man, unscheduled layovers are the worst. Hopefully Starbase 11 at least has a good food court.

Kirk also adds that “a full report of damages was made to the commanding officer of Starbase 11—Commodore Stone.” Sure enough, we see Kirk and this Stone guy hanging out in what I presume is Stone’s office, which looks like some pretty sweet digs. Stone calls up the Starbase 11 pit crew and tells them to switch from working on the Intrepid to working on the Enterprise, because the Enterprise is priority one. I dunno what the Intrepid is in for, but I guess her crew will just be forced to chill out at the Starbase for a while longer, which I’m sure they’ll be real broken up over. Meanwhile, Kirk is looking over some papers. That’s right, actual papers, a whole sheaf of them attached to a clipboard. I think this is the first time on the show we’ve seen anyone doing paperwork with real paper. Maybe Stone just likes the aesthetic.

Stone asks if there’s some kind of problem with Kirk’s deposition, because Kirk has reread it three times now. There’s not; Kirk’s just still brooding over losing a crewmember, and from the look of it he’s been fixating on that report more than a little bit, presumably ruminating over whether there could have been a better outcome if he’d done things differently. But, shockingly, obsessively rereading the report doesn’t seem to be helping anything, so Kirk finally hands it over to Stone. Apparently Stone doesn’t run an entirely paper-based office, though, because he also wants the extract from the Enterprise computer log that confirms Kirk’s deposition.

Said computer log is apparently supposed to be in Kirk’s possession by now, but is not, so Kirk pulls out his communicator and calls Uhura to ask where the heck is Spock, who’s supposed to be delivering the thing. Uhura, puzzled, says that Spock should have been there ten minutes ago. That’s a bit concerning, since after all this is Spock we’re talking about. He’s not exactly prone to getting easily distracted. Maybe McCoy flagged him down to have an argument over something.

While they wait for Spock to show up, Stone passes the time by saying that the whole incident is a pity because the service can’t afford to lose men like Lieutenant Commander Finney. I don’t know what was so special about this Finney guy, but the service loses people all the dang time and they seem to be managing okay. Speaking of which, do they have to go through this every time a ‘shirt dies? Imagine how much time that adds up to in-between episodes. Not to mention the time someone died and then came back—I don’t even want to think about the paperwork for that incident.

Anyway Kirk agrees with Stone about Finney and says that he waited until the last possible moment, but eventually the ion storm got too bad and he was forced to jettison the pod that Finney was in. The whole cheerful conversation is interrupted by Spock finally showing up, via a little two-pad transporter platform tucked away in a little alcove in the wall. Man, I guess you really know you’ve made it when you’ve got a personal transporter platform installed directly into your office. Although personally I think I’d prefer an office that people couldn’t teleport directly into.

Spock’s got the computer log on a floppy disc with him, but he’s looking kinda nervous about something. Kirk asks what took him so long and Spock starts to respond, but before he can Stone grabs the floppy right out of his hand and puts it in his computer, which, uh, rude. Then Spock’s immediately cut off again as the door opens and a woman wearing some truly inexplicable clothes comes marching in.

[ID: A young white woman with brown hair partially tied up, walking through a doorway, wearing what looks like a white tank top under a pale blue gauze shirt with bright blue cuffs and bright blue lapels that come down into a kind of bow and a metallic blue skirt split into rectangular strips, over white tights.]

The woman is in a right mood, which, I would be too if I was wearing that outfit, but she’s obviously got something else entirely on her mind. She marches right up to Kirk and angrily declares that “I just wanted one more look at you—the man who killed my father! Prepare to die!” Wait, no. Not that last part. Sorry, force of habit.

Kirk tries to talk the woman—Jame, he calls her (pronounced ‘Jamie’)—down, saying that Finney was his friend and Kirk did not in fact kill him intentionally, but Jame yells back that Kirk did so kill Finney intentionally because he hated Finney all his life, the MURDERER. Look, lady, just because someone died on the Enterprise doesn’t mean they were Kirk’s personal enemy. No one has that many enemies, c’mon.

But Jame’s too worked up to hear it and all this shouting about murder is making things real awkward for everyone, so Stone asks Spock to kindly remove her from the room. Well, actually, he just says, “Spock, please...” which is a sentence that can end a lot of ways, really. “Spock, please, remove this unsightly woman from my presence. Her tears bore me.”

As Spock gently ushers Jame out of the room, Stone asks Kirk, hey, you did say that you jettisoned the pod after the red alert, right? Kirk says that he did, yes, as he, y’know, stated in the deposition that Stone is literally holding right now. “Then, captain,” Stone says ominously, “I must presume that you have committed willful perjury!” DUHN DUHN DUHN.

Yes, it seems that the computer log that Stone is looking at shows that Kirk actually jettisoned the pod before going to red alert, quite the opposite of what he said. While Kirk stands there looking completely stunned, Stone tells him that he’s now confined to the base, pending an inquiry as to whether a full court martial is in order. Gee, I wonder if the episode titled Court Martial will involve a court martial? I’m on the edge of my seat.

After the titles, we get a captain’s log telling us that the Enterprise is still in orbit, being repaired, while Kirk is standing by until the inquiry happens—but he’s confident of the outcome. So confident, he’s going to casually stroll into the starbase bar to get a drink while he waits for them to clear his name and apologize.

But when Kirk, accompanied by McCoy, walks up to a guy he knows and cheerfully remarks “haven’t seen you since the Vulcanian expedition,” he gets the cold shoulder. (As for what ‘the Vulcanian expedition’ was, your guess is as good as mine.) No one else Kirk tries to talk to seems to be in a friendly mood either. One of them says, “I understand you’re laying over for repairs. Big job?” but this seemingly innocuous conversation starter turns out to be a trap. When Kirk replies that they’ll be there for a couple of days, the guy asks if they’ll be moving out after that. Why ask? Oh, he just wondered how long it would take Kirk to get a new records officer.

Ah. I see how it is. So does Kirk. “You can talk plainer than that,” he tells the guy, and the guy sneers that he could, but, “I think the point’s been made. Ben was a friend of ours.” Meanwhile, somewhere in this exchange McCoy, who knows shit about to go down when he sees it, has acquired a drink to better fortify himself for this nonsense. He tries to pull Kirk away from the brewing fight, but Kirk won’t budge. “No, go on, finish,” he says. “Ben was a friend of yours, and...”

McCoy breaks in with a stern “Jim” and hey, if McCoy is telling you an argument has gone too far you know it has really gone too far. Completely ignoring this, Kirk snaps that he’s waiting to hear the rest. Fortunately, McCoy’s other services don’t end up being required; when the guy says, “Why don’t you tell us?” Kirk stops rising to the bait and says there would be no point because they’ve already made up their minds, then turns on his heel and leaves.

Man, word travels fast around this starbase. You wouldn’t think Starfleet would exactly be loose-lipped about an inquiry into possible murder to begin with, but either they were or these guys heard that Finney had died and immediately assumed that Kirk was responsible all on their own. Then again, Kirk mentions that they were all in the Academy together, and Kirk is the only one wearing captain’s stripes; one wonders if there might have been enough resentment there already to make them a bit eager for blood.

As Kirk leaves the bar he bumps into a guy, catching the attention of a woman coming in, who stops and looks at him in surprise. A woman who apparently is just so comfortable and at home at Starbase 11 that she doesn’t feel the need to wear shoes.

[ID: A white woman with short blonde hair pausing and looking around as she enters a crowded room. She’s wearing a kind of open dress/robe that is green and yellow with tie-dye-like splotches, yellow tights, and no shoes.]

McCoy zeroes in on her with remarkable speed. “If you have any doubt, that was indeed Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise,” he says, which is a hell of a way to start a conversation. The woman replies that yes, she knows, and then asks if McCoy is a friend of Kirk’s. ‘Nemesis’ might be a more accurate term, but sure, ‘friend’ will do. Hearing this, the woman introduces herself as Areel Shaw, also a Friend of Kirk.

“All my old friends look like doctors. All of his look like you,” McCoy comments. There’s...there’s a lot going on in that sentence.

Anyway, McCoy and Shaw go off to have a drink and, presumably, commiserate over how much of a pain in the ass it is to be Kirk’s friend. Elsewhere—and later, presumably, since I’m assuming the starbase legal offices aren’t right next to the bar, but hey, who knows—Kirk and Stone meet to begin the inquiry.

After establishing for the record that this is an inquiry to determine whether Kirk is up for a general court-martial, Stone starts out by asking about Kirk’s relationship with Finney. Kirk says Finney was an instructor at the Academy when Kirk was a midshipman, but that “didn’t stand in the way of [them] beginning a close friendship.” Apparently Kirk and Finney wound up becoming so close that Finney even named his daughter Jame, after Kirk, which seems like a rather unfair thing to do to the poor kid. He could have at least spelled it Jamie and spared her what I’m sure has been a lifetime of mispronunciations. Hopefully this was at least after Finney stopped being Kirk’s instructor, because once you’ve named your kid after a student of yours you’ve probably lost the ability to be real objective about their grades.

But alas, this, uh, heartwarming friendship was not to last. Finney and Kirk didn’t just stop being friends, they stopped being friends so hard that Stone says it’s “common knowledge” that they had a falling out. Dang, and after Finney named his kid after Kirk and everything. That’s even worse than breaking up with someone after getting a tattoo of their name.

Kirk explains what happened: the two of them were assigned to the same ship, and one fateful night he came to relieve Finney on watch only to discover “a circuit open to the atomic matter piles that should’ve been closed. Another five minutes, it could’ve blown up the ship.” Dang, and here I had Finney pegged as a paragon of good judgment. Kirk fixed the problem and then, like a responsible crewmember, logged the incident—which of course brought Finney in for a hefty reprimand, and got him kicked to the bottom of the promotion list. Finney dealt with all this reasonably and rationally, by blaming it all on Kirk. It seems Finney already had some issues, because Kirk says that he had been at the Academy as an instructor an unusually long time before being assigned to a starship, and he felt that the delay looked bad on his record. Well, look on the bright side, man—I’m sure no one paid attention to that part of your record after ‘almost accidentally blew up the whole ship’ got on there.

This is the second time we’ve heard something about Academy students or recent graduates being instructors—remember Mitchell talking about Kirk being an instructor back in Where No Man Has Gone Before. The way Kirk talks about Finney spending a “longer than usual” time doing this at the Academy would seem to indicate that it’s normal for you to hang out at the Academy before starting active duty on a ship, but we don’t really get any more information on it than that, and if that reflects any real-life military academy practice I couldn’t find anything about it.

Anyway, Finney’s been resenting Kirk over this ever since. How he wound up assigned to the Enterprise I don’t know, but watching Kirk become captain of one of the most prestigious ships in the fleet and then having to serve under him day after day while Finney was stuck well below on the rank ladder himself presumably ground a steady supply of salt into that open wound. But enough about Finney���s hangups. Backstory established, the inquiry moves on to the matter at hand: how exactly Finney wound up getting ejected into space. Kirk explains that their scan indicated an ion storm up ahead, so Kirk ordered Finney to go man the pod. Stone asks why Kirk picked Finney and Kirk says he didn’t; Finney just happened to be at the top of the duty roster. It was his turn to man the pod, nothing more to it than that. You know what would be really helpful at this point is if anyone would explain what the heck this pod is or why someone needs to be in it during ion storms.

Once they hit the storm, Kirk went to yellow alert, as per procedure. Things weren’t too bad at first, but the storm eventually grew bad enough that he had to go to red alert, and apparently part of red alert involves ejecting this mysterious pod, whether or not there’s someone in it at the time. Finney knew he had only a few seconds to get out of there, Kirk says, and he gave Finney all the time he possibly could...but evidently, it wasn’t enough.

So, why, then, Stone asks, does the computer log show that Kirk ejected the pod while the ship was still at yellow alert—i.e., before ejecting it was necessary, and before Finney would have had time to get out of it. Kirk doesn’t have an answer for him. Stone asks if the computer could be wrong, which seems like something he should have looked up on his own time, and Kirk says that Spock is running a survey at that very moment, but the odds are “next to impossible.”

At this point, Stone stops the recording, comes around the desk to get all up in Kirk’s space, and starts talking about how being a starship captain is a really hard job. Enormous pressure, all the time, far more than any reasonable person could really be expected to take. A man under all that pressure could easily crack, fumble, make a mistake. That’s what happened to Kirk. No malice, no intentional murder, he’s just starting to slip. At least, that’s what Stone will say...if Kirk cooperates. Yeah, I’ll give you three guesses as to whether Kirk’s going to cooperate, and the first two don’t count.

But Stone persists, really laying the pressure on thick. No starship captain has ever stood trial before, he says, and he doesn’t want Kirk to have to be the first. Really? You guys have been doing this boldly going thing for how long and no captain has ever had to stand trial? Surely someone has fucked up in all that time. It kinda makes me wonder just what lengths Starfleet has gone to to avoid putting any captains on trial before this, especially with all the emphasis Stone puts on how he’s concerned for the reputation of Starfleet as a whole and doesn’t want to see it smeared. Kirk demands to know just what Stone thinks Starfleet is going to be smeared by here, and Stone fires back that okay, if you’re really gonna press that, what he’s seeing is a perjurer trying to cover up either bad judgment, cowardice, or something worse. What, you mean like, murder? It’s cool, you can say ‘murder’ on this show. It’s just sex you’re not allowed to talk about.

Kirk insists that he knows damn well what happened, it was the right call, and he’s not stepping down. Stone gives him one more chance, telling Kirk to accept a permanent ground assignment where he can fade away in safe obscurity—otherwise Starfleet’s gonna bring the whole hammer down on him.   Which is quite the tactical error, since presumably ‘permanent ground assignment’ was meant to be the more palatable option. But this is Kirk we’re talking about here. Being permanently grounded is pretty much a fate worse than death for him. Stone might as well have said “you can either stand trial or be thrown out the airlock.”

So obviously, Kirk says he’s going to fight. “Then you draw a general court,” Stone warns. “Draw it?” Kirk yells. “I demand it, and right now, Commodore Stone, right now!”

I get the impression Kirk is just as offended by the idea of Starfleet trying to cover all this up as he is at being accused of this whole thing. He didn’t do this, but if he had done this, he’d damn well expect Starfleet to punish him properly for it. What if there was some much less scrupulous captain in this position, who really did screw up and lie to cover his ass—or worse, intentionally offed one of his own crew over a petty grudge? Would Starfleet give them a quiet out instead of bringing them to justice? You wouldn’t like to think so, would you? That said, while I admire Kirk’s enthusiasm, I don’t think they can hold a general court-martial right now. We gotta at least find an empty room first.

After the break, Kirk gives us a captain’s log saying that the officers who will make up the court-martial board are on their way to Starbase 11. The last court-martial board we saw was comprised of a guy who could only say ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ a guy with the biggest conflict of interest ever, and a guy who didn’t exist, so for Kirk’s sake let’s hope this one is a step up. Meanwhile, repairs on the Enterprise are almost complete. What’s a man to do while he waits for his fate to be decided? Well, I hear there’s quite a popular option involving sorrows and the drowning thereof. Back to the starbase bar it is!

Luckily for Kirk, this time he is greeted not by a posse of passive-aggressiveness but by Areel Shaw, a much better conversational partner. They take a little table by the wall and Kirk, of course, immediately lays on the charm. Though, judging by the concerningly specific answer Shaw gives to his question of “how long has it been?” he’s already done quite a bit of charming there already. He says she hasn’t changed a bit, but she remarks that she can’t say the same for him, presumably meaning that in the sense that Kirk was not up on charges of criminal neglect and possible manslaughter when they last met four years ago. Presumably. I don’t know what they got up to four years ago.

Shaw knows about Kirk’s difficulties because—well, because it’s apparently all over the starbase, for one thing, but more specifically she knows because she’s a lawyer in the judge advocate’s office. Kirk would rather forget about his troubles for the time being and get down to some flirting, but Shaw isn’t easily put off. She comments that Kirk is taking all of this real dang lightly. “The confidence of an innocent man,” he replies breezily. It must be nice to have that much faith in your justice system.

Despite Shaw’s attempts to keep the conversation on track, Kirk is still quite distracted by Shaw herself, while meanwhile I’m distracted by trying to figure out what the hell Shaw is drinking.

[ID: An over-the-shoulder shot of Shaw talking to Kirk, with a drink sitting on the table near the edge of shot, containing an umbrella, a skewer with several brightly-colored cubes stuck on it, and various bits of greenery.]

How was there even room left for the drink in that?

She insists on giving Kirk some advice. The prosecution, she says, is going to build its case on the basis of Kirk vs the computer, and if his attorney tries to defend him on that basis, they won’t have a chance. That’s why he needs a good attorney. Oh, he needs a good attorney? Wow, that is good legal advice. I never would have thought of that. Kirk asks if Shaw herself is game for it and she stumbles a bit and awkwardly says she can’t, she’s busy. Then she reminds him that he really needs to take this whole thing more seriously; his rank is going to have Starfleet looking to come down really hard on him to preserve the reputation of the service. Finally, she gets around to recommending a lawyer: one Samuel T. Cogley. “If anyone can save you, he can,” she says. “He’ll be paying you a visit.” That sounds a wee bit ominous.

Shaw then gets up to go, but Kirk stops her and says she still hasn’t told him how she knows exactly what the prosecution is going to do. She looks at him very sadly and says, “Because, Jim Kirk, my dear old love...I am the prosecution. And I have to do my very best to have you slapped down hard, broken out of the service, in disgrace.” With that she turns and walks out, leaving Kirk to sit there in stunned disbelief that this day actually somehow managed to get worse.

Oof, that’s real rough. Also real conflict-of-interesty. The American Bar Association has a thing or two to say about that, back here in the dark ages of 2019:

The prosecutor should know and abide by the ethical rules regarding conflicts of interest that apply in the jurisdiction, and be sensitive to facts that may raise conflict issues. When a conflict requiring recusal exists and is non-waivable, or informed consent has not been obtained, the prosecutor should recuse from further participation in the matter. The office should not go forward until a non-conflicted prosecutor, or an adequate waiver, is in place.

…

The prosecutor should not participate in a matter in which the prosecutor previously participated, personally and substantially, as a non-prosecutor, unless the appropriate government office, and when necessary a former client, gives informed consent confirmed in writing.

Oh, and:

The prosecutor should not recommend the services of particular defense counsel to accused persons or witnesses in cases being handled by the prosecutor’s office.

But of course, we’re not in America, we’re in SPACE. And who knows how space law works? Maybe conflict of interest regulations were just one of those things we needed to outgrow as a species, like keyboards and amusement parks.

Speaking of things from the past, we then cut to a man sitting in a room, surrounded by old-fashioned, hardbound, made-with-real-paper books. Seriously, he’s got a lot of books in there. Kirk walks into the room and despondently pours himself a drink from one of TOS’s iconic Weirdly Shaped Liquor Bottles. Presumably this is his room, then, and he’s not just wandering around stealing booze from random people. Again. He completely fails to notice that a man with a small library has occupied his quarters until the guy says, “You Kirk?”

[ID: Kirk looking down at a middle-aged white man with receding brown hair, who is sitting in a chair surrounded by stacks of books strewn all over the furniture.]

Kirk wanders over to look over the whole scene with the kind of mild befuddlement of someone who can’t be bothered to be more than mildly befuddled because they’ve had such a long day already that what the hell, this might as well be happening too. “What’s all this?” he asks. “I figured we’d be spending some time together, so I moved in,” the guy replies casually. Wow, sure is easy to just move yourself and an entire small library into a stranger’s room on this starbase. Did we just lose all our door-locking technology at some point in the future? Has mankind just forgotten how to lock things at the same time we forgot how to recuse yourself?

All Kirk has to say about it is a dry, “I hope I’m not crowding you.” The guy asks if Kirk doesn’t like books and Kirk says he likes them just fine, but a computer takes up less space, not realizing that he’s just hit a major conversational tripwire with this dude. He immediately launches into a rant about how he has a computer in his office but never uses it, because he has his own system: “Books, young man, books, thousands of them! This is where the law is. Not in that homogenized, pasteurized, synthesized—do you want to know the law, the ancient concepts in their own language, learn the intent of the men who wrote them, from Moses to the Tribunal of Alpha 3? Books.”

I’m sure this came off differently when it was written, but even by 2019 someone with this attitude would be moving out of “eccentrically but charmingly old-fashioned” and into “straight up bizarre.” Someone in the twenty-third century having this attitude towards computers, outside of some kind of specific religious standpoint or something...it’s difficult to even imagine.

I mean, look, don’t get me wrong, I love books. And I love physical books. Proportionate to the amount of total things that I own, I have a lot of physical books, and they’re dear to me, and I would be very sad at the idea of them becoming obsolete. But the idea that they possess any kind of special magic that makes something any more real or true if it’s written in a physical book versus the same text entered into a computer? No. Of course not. Practically speaking, a computer allows you to access exponentially more information more easily, and a lawyer who chooses to disregard any advantage that big in favor of a personal philosophical preference is not a lawyer I’d trust with my career, any more than I’d trust an ambulance driver who showed up in a horse-drawn cart. Not to mention the practicality of not having to cart so many books around with you everywhere; seriously, if there’s one thing I learned from moving in and out of dorm rooms, it’s how quickly even a small amount of books can become an enormous pain to move back and forth. Heck, I’m amazed that Cogley was able to get so many in here so quickly on his own. Teach me your secrets Cogley.

Of course, at the time of writing, the idea of ebooks and generally accessing information via computers as easily as we do now wasn’t exactly a thing. One could forgive the writers for assuming that Cogley could have a salient point about books being able to store information better than computers—not that he ever makes such a point, or expresses any specific reason why books are better other than that they just are, okay. But it is a bit odd because by this point TOS had already shown us people using the Enterprise computer to read texts (in Where No Man Has Gone Before) or to look up information (in The Conscience of the King) without any problems or limitations with that information being described, unless you count the eye-bleedingly tiny text poor Mitchell was having to deal with. It all adds up to make Cogley seem less like someone whose outlook is unusual but potentially puts him in a position to have insights that others wouldn’t, and more like someone who just hates technology for no real reason.

Also, don’t pasteurize your computer. Bad idea.

Kirk muses that this guy must be either “[insert prejorative term for a mentally ill person here] or Samuel T. Cogley, attorney at law.” “Right on both counts,” Cogley says. “Need a lawyer?” “I’m afraid so.”

They shake hands. Kirk doesn’t look terribly optimistic. But hey, at least they can bond over their middle initials.

With the preliminary shenanigans out of the way, it’s finally time to get this trial started. We cut to Stone hitting a bell with a stick (but like, a ceremonial stick). Along with him, there are three old guys on the board, two in green and one in blue. Stone introduces them as Space Command Representative Lindstrom and starship captains Krasnovsky and Chondra. I don’t know what Space Command is, but it sounds cool.

Stone then tells Kirk that he has the right to ask for substitute officers if he has any objection to the board members, Stone being the president, or Shaw being the prosecutor. This sounds like a great time for Kirk to mention that he and Shaw have personal history and he’d rather she not be the prosecutor, which I’m sure would be a relief to her as much as to him, but of course, he doesn’t, so the trial proceeds.

Everyone sits down, and the computer is turned on to read out the list of charges, because the more things we can have the computer read out for us, the less Throat Coat everyone has to buy afterward. While that’s happening, we see the gallery, such as it is: there’s just some chairs against the back wall where Spock, McCoy, a redshirt woman, and Jame are all sitting. Jame’s still wearing her Sailor Moon getup. Maybe she was in such a hurry to get here and yell at Kirk that she didn’t pack any extra clothes.

The computer asks for the plea and Kirk, of course, says not guilty. For some reason this is followed by a big dramatic chord, even though that’s exactly what we expected him to say. Shaw (who’s wearing a red uniform, which confuses me—is being a prosecuting attorney considered part of Operations?) gets going by calling Spock to the stand. In Starfleet court, the stand is a chair with a glowy circle that you have to put your hand on.

[ID: Spock, in his dress uniform, sitting in a chair and putting his hand on a glowing circle connected to a nearby stand.]

Spock hands over a floppy disc, which I guess is his personal ID floppy, because once it’s put in the computer it reads out all his service info, including all the cool medals he’s received. Shaw then begins the questioning by asking, “As a first officer, you know a great deal about computers, don’t you?” Is that...is that a requirement for being a first officer?

“I know all about them,” Spock replies, a rather sweeping claim to make, but Shaw doesn’t push it. Instead she asks, “It is possible for a computer to malfunction, is it not?”

Okay, I guess Shaw is going to use the tried and true legal strategy of Asking Witnesses To Confirm The Bloody Obvious. While you’ve got him here, why not ask him a few more things, just to be sure? “Is it possible for things to catch on fire if they’re really hot? Can people bleed if you poke them with sharp things? THE COURT NEEDS TO KNOW, MR. SPOCK.”

Once Spock has called upon his extensive expertise with computers to assure us all that yes, they can malfunction, Shaw asks if he knows of any malfunction that’s caused an inaccuracy in the Enterprise computer. Spock says no. You know, aside from last week when we couldn’t get it to stop flirting with people. But when Shaw tries to move on, Spock interrupts to say, “The computer is inaccurate, nevertheless.” Asked to clarify, he says that what the computer is reporting—that Kirk reacted to non-existent emergency—is impossible. He admits that he didn’t see Kirk actually press the button himself since he was occupied at the time. So how, Shaw asks him, can he dispute what the computer says? “I do not dispute it,” Spock says. “I merely state that it is wrong.”

[ID: A screenshot of Merriam-Webster’s definition of the word ‘dispute’. ‘Dispute, verb, disputed, disputing. Definition of dispute (Entry 1 of 2): intransitive verb: to engage in argument: debate. Especially: to argue irritably or with irritating persistence. Transitive verb: 1 a: to make the subject of verbal controversy or disputation//Legislators hotly disputed the bill. 1 b: to call into question or cast doubt upon. //Her honest was never disputed. The witness disputed the defendant’s claim. 2 a: to struggle against: OPPOSE. //disputed the advance of the invaders. 2 b: to contend over// disputing ownership of the land.]

Sure buddy.

Shaw asks where the heck he’s getting this conclusion from, then, and Spock says he knows Kirk. At that point she cuts him off with a request to Stone that the witness be told not to speculate. “I am Vulcanian,” Spock says coolly. “Vulcanians do not speculate.” They can’t decide on what their species is called, but dammit, they don’t speculate!

To prove how logical and detached he is about all this, Spock goes on to give a metaphor about how if you drop a hammer on a planet with gravity you don’t need to see it fall to know that it did, and likewise he doesn’t need to have seen Kirk act to know what he did. “It is impossible to Captain Kirk to act out of panic or malice,” he says. “It is not in his nature.” Debatable.

“In your opinion,” Shaw says. Very, very grudgingly, Spock has to say, “Yes...in my opinion.”

Spock, you enormous dork. Look at him, passionately defending his friend while insisting with so much seriousness that he’s just being logical and this is all a totally scientific, objective viewpoint, because he’s a Vulcan(ian) so he would never speak up for someone just because they’re his friend and he likes and trusts them! Obviously!! God bless you, you incredibly transparent doofus.

Shaw yields the questioning to Cogley, but he says he has no questions, so Spock steps down and Shaw calls the next witness: the redshirt. Turns out she’s the personnel officer for the Enterprise. We aren’t given her name, only her rank—ensign, which seems like kind of a low rank for that position, but who knows how ranks work in Starfleet, honestly. I mean, apparently being the first officer makes you an expert at computers.

Still, I gotta give our nameless ensign this: she’s got some great eyeshadow going on.

[ID: A shot of a young Asian woman in a red uniform with her hair tied up, wearing pale blue and white eyeshadow.]

After confirming that the personnel officer is familiar with the records of everyone on the ship as per her job, Shaw asks her if Finney’s record mentioned a disciplinary action over that whole ‘almost blew up a ship’ thing. Ensign Eyeshadow says yes, and when asked who reported Finney for that, she confirms it was Kirk. That’s right, the same Kirk currently sitting in this very courtroom! Gasp!

With no further questions, Shaw again concedes to Cogley, who again has no questions. On to the next witness: McCoy. Oh man, here we go.

McCoy also hands over his card (these things are completely unmarked—can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if someone dropped a bunch of them?) and the computer identifies him as the ship surgeon, an occasional appellation of TOS’s that never made sense to me. I mean, he is a surgeon, but being the Chief Medical Officer is a bit more than that. It’s like calling Scotty the ship mechanic.

Anyway, whatever his title is, McCoy also has quite a list of commendations read out, so that’s nice. But what Shaw’s interested in isn’t his surgery skills. She wants to talk about psychology, specifically space psychology, which is like regular psychology but in space. No, really—she defines it as the study of what happens when you stick a bunch of people together in the tight confines of a starship for long periods. Unfortunately we don’t have a lot of data on it because our space psychologists keep turning into gods and dying.

Shaw asks McCoy to confirm that he is, in fact, an expert in space psychology. “I know something about it,” McCoy says dryly. Oh, stop, you.

“So you just heard the testimony of your own personnel officer that it was an action of the then-ensign Kirk which placed an un-erasable blot on the record of the then-lieutenant Finney,” Shaw says, “Psychologically, doctor, is it possible that Lieutenant Finney blamed Kirk for the incident?” Do you...need to be an expert in psychology to figure that one out? What class is “can people blame other people for things” covered under in psychology school? Seems odd to me, but a minute ago she had a computer expert up there just to testify that computers can malfunction sometimes, so maybe this is just how space law works.

McCoy’s like “uh, yeah, I guess??” because what else are you supposed to say in that situation? Then Shaw asks him, “Is it normal to return affection for hatred?” to which he replies that, well, no, not generally? In other words, Shaw says, once we learn that someone hates us we tend to hate them back, right? You know, just, hypothetically speaking. McCoy’s a bit confused by that one, since his usual reaction to someone hating him is more like “Oh yeah? Well I hated you first. Now shut up while I save your life, possibly at the expense of my own.” But he admits that sure, that other thing could happen too.

So, Shaw says, moving in for the kill, it’s therefore possible that once Kirk realized that Finney had started hating him, he started hating Finney back? At that point McCoy is like NOPE NOPE NOPE, hold the damn phone right there, that is not how Kirk rolls.

“Any normal human, doctor, is it possible?” Shaw presses. “But he’s not that kind of man!” McCoy protests. “Is it theoretically possible, doctor?”

What is going on in this courtroom? This is such an incredibly bizarre line of questioning. “Is it theoretically possible for the defendant to behave in this way?” I mean fuck man, I guess it is, because any permutation of human behavior is theoretically possible! Spontaneously declaring yourself Emperor of the United States and issuing your own currency is a possible human behavior, but that doesn’t make it relevant to the current situation! You could make someone sound guilty of anything if you’re going with that tack. She could get up there and ask if it’s a theoretically possible for any given human to commit murder, arson, tax fraud, any crime you want to pick, and McCoy would have to say yes because, well, it is! And ultimately he has to say—with a great deal of reluctance and frustration—that yes, it is theoretically possible that Kirk hated Finney in return. Cue dramatic musical sting, as if that statement actually meant anything at all.

Once again Cogley says he has no questions, so McCoy steps down, obviously fuming but managing to restrain himself from starting a fight on the witness stand. At this point Stone interjects to ask Cogley what his deal is, since he’s listened to three witnesses by now and not bothered to question any of them. “I’ve been holding back until we get this preliminary business out of the way,” Cogley replies casually. “I’d like to call Captain Kirk to the stand.” Can he...can he do that? I thought it was still the prosecution’s turn to be calling people. Space law is so confusing.

Apparently Cogley can do that, because Kirk goes on up to the chair, hands over his ID floppy, and puts his hand on the Glowing Circle of Truth. Like the other witnesses, the computer reads out his name, rank, ID number, and commendations...all his commendations. And there are a lot of them. Palm Leaf of Axinar Peace Mission, Grand Kite Order of Tactics, Class of Excellence, Frenterus Ribbon of Commendation...it just keeps going and going, while everyone sits there awkwardly.

Eventually Shaw interrupts to say, look, I don’t wish to imply that Captain Kirk is not super great and has the medals to prove it, but now that we’ve established that could we maybe, y’know, skip to the end? Stone asks Cogley about it, since after all it’s his witness, and Cogley says, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to slow the wheels of progress any...” then waits for Shaw to start drawing a sigh of relief before continuing, “BUT I also wouldn’t want them to run over my client!” So they have to sit and listen to more awards. My favorite is the Starfleet Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry, which makes me wonder just how conspicuous your gallantry has to be for you to get cited for it.

Cogley finally allows them to stop, saying he “wouldn’t want to slow things up too much.” I mean, who knows how long it might take for that list to be fully read out? We could be here all week! Ha ha! Super illustrious career there. Amazing. Totally irrelevant of course, but wow—what a guy, right?

Anyway, onto the actual questioning (finally). Cogley asks if there really was a red alert before Kirk jettisoned the pod, and Kirk says there was, so Cogley asks him to tell them all about it. Kirk starts out talking about the ion storm, but then gets rather sidetracked from giving the actual details to talking about how, despite the charges, there was no malice involved and Finney was treated the same as any member of Kirk’s crew. And no, Kirk did not panic and jettison the pod prematurely either, looking at you up there Stone. This was far from his first crisis and he handled it the same way he handled all the other crises he’s been through: he relied on experience and training and did everything that should have been done when it should have been done. Cool, thanks. That gave us almost no information whatsoever.

Cogley says that Kirk did the right thing...but would he do it again? Kirk says that yes, under those same circumstances, he would, because what he did was necessary to save his ship. “And nothing is more important than my ship,” he adds, which is a line that sure could be misused if taken out of context.

Despite getting a remarkable lack of anything useful out of that testimony, Cogley then cedes the witness to Shaw. Instead of questioning Kirk, though, Shaw opts to show some evidence. About time someone did. I was starting to wonder if this trial was going to consist entirely of vague philosophical arguments.

Specifically, Shaw is presenting the thing that started this whole debacle to being with: the incriminating computer log from the Enterprise. The episode thus far has been rather vague as to the exact nature of this computer log, so you could easily imagine that it was, y’know, an actual log made by the computer of everything that went through it during that particular interval. Nah. Of course not. It’s just footage of the bridge during the incident, because I guess the Enterprise is equipped with security cameras everywhere.

The recording shows us an overhead view of the bridge as Uhura reports an ion storm upcoming. Kirk says they’ll need someone in the pod for recordings. I’m still in the weeds about what exactly the pod is and why someone needs to be in it, but no one feels like explaining. Spock says that Finney is at the top of the duty roster, so Uhura has him report to the pod for “reading of ion slates” which really didn’t clear up my confusion any.

They continue to approach the ion storm, getting increasingly jostled about the closer they get. At this point, Shaw has the video reversed and paused, then magnified to show the panel on Kirk’s chair. That’s some pretty damn impressive magnification, considering that not only did it retain perfect image quality as it zoomed in, it also changed the camera angle.

[ID: 1. A computer screen showing an overhead shot of the bridge, as Shaw says, “Stop.” 2. Shaw saying, “Go forward with the magnification on the panel.” 3. The computer screen again, showing the panel of Kirk’s chair from behind, with five buttons on it; the first three are a yellow one labeled Alert, a red one labeled Alert, a green one labeled Jettison Pod, and the last two are white and unlabeled.]

But more importantly, now that we have a good shot of the panel we can see that not only can Kirk toggle red and yellow alerts directly from it, the ‘jettison pod’ button is RIGHT THERE. Who put that there?! Why? Why would the captain need direct access to that of all possible buttons, and for the love of God, why would you put it somewhere where it could so easily be pressed accidentally?? All it would take is one slip of the thumb and there goes your pod! I’m amazed Starfleet isn’t having more court martials about people being prematurely jettisoned if that’s where you put the button! This is the worst UI ever!

Remarkably, though, Shaw didn’t pause the video just to show us Starfleet’s incredibly bad design policies; she just wanted to point out that Kirk was pressing the yellow alert button, which she carefully describes in case anyone in the courtroom couldn’t figure out that that’s what pressing the yellow button marked ‘alert’ does. Then the log resumes, switching to another camera angle in the process. It sure is nice of the computer to dramatically edit its own footage for us.

Uhura says that there’s a call coming in from the pod, which is just Finney confirming that readings are in progress. Kirk tells Finney to make it fast, because they may have to go to red alert. On cue, the bridge shakes again. Not enough that anyone has to throw themselves across the set, but it’s clearly getting worse. Hanson, at the helm (hey, remember him?), reports that they’re getting “natural vibrations of force two” and then “force three.” That sounds bad. I guess.

Kirk tells engineering to give them more thrust, then calls Finney and tells him to get ready to get out of there because things are looking bad. The shaking gets worse and worse until Hanson is reporting force five. Then, suddenly, we cut back to the chair panel to see Kirk pressing the ‘jettison pod’ button, despite the light still showing only yellow alert. Wow, how convenient that the recording switched camera angles right at that critical moment. I’m sure there’s nothing significant about that.

Shaw freezes the footage there and, as Kirk and Cogley stare in shock, points out to everyone that the ship is clearly not at red alert there. In other words, Kirk jettisoned Finney because of an emergency that didn’t even exist at the time.

All Kirk can do is stare at the frozen image and helplessly whisper, “But that’s not the way it happened.” I dunno, man, that’s what the computer says. Are you saying the computer could be wrong? I don’t see how that could happen.

After the break, we get a nice shot of Starbase Eleven, which contrary to what you may have been imagining is actually on a planet, or at least, some of it is. A very purple planet it is, too.

[ID: A matte painting of a rocky planet with a purple sky and a dim pinkish-purple sun halfway up the horizon, with several tall futuristic buildings in the foreground and a few more scattered across the open plain.]

Visit scenic Starbase Eleven! The premiere place to develop Seasonal Affective Disorder!

Kirk gives us a short, dour captain’s log: “The evidence presented by the visual playback to my general court-martial was damning. I suspect even my attorney has begun to doubt me.”

Cogley is indeed looking pretty grim as he sits in his office/Kirk’s room, playing with a stylus while Kirk paces around the place. “Computers don’t lie,” he says. Boy, for someone who is apparently ready to go into a screed about the inferiority of computers at all times, you’re sure quick to immediately accept their unimpeachable accuracy there, Cogley. Computers, of course, do lie, because computers do whatever you tell them to. Or, to quote another famous sci-fi franchise, “The problem with computers is that they’re very sophisticated idiots.”

“Are you suggesting I did?” Kirk snaps. Cogley hedges that he doesn’t think Kirk lied, but maybe Kirk did have a lapse and make an error. For a moment, Kirk falls into doubt, musing that two days ago he was confident enough in his own judgment to stake anything on it—which is unlikely to be hyperbole since he did indeed put his whole career on the line. But now he’s beginning to be less sure. Is it possible that when the moment came, he really did make that fatal error…?

But Kirk only allows himself to consider that for a moment before shaking away the doubts. No, he says, he knows what he did and he’s standing by it. He tells Cogley that he can back out now if he wants to, but Cogley just shrugs and says there’s nowhere to go except back to the courtroom to hear the verdict.

Shaw made such a big deal about how Cogley was the only person who could win a case against computer evidence, but so far we sure haven’t seen any sign of him living up to that claim. His entire strategy seems to have been to have Kirk testify about his confidence that he didn’t make a mistake, and as soon as the computer log was played—the computer log, need I remind you, that should not have been a surprise to anyone because the fact that it makes Kirk look guilty is the entire reason we’re having this trial in the first place—he’s like “welp, nuthin I can do about that.” I’m kinda thinking it might have been more helpful to get a lawyer who actually knew something about computers other than “they suck and I hate them.”

Kirk’s communicator beeps just then; it’s Spock, calling to say that he’s run “a complete megalyte survey on the computer.” (I’m sorry, megalyte?) “I’ll tell you what you found—nothing, right?” Kirk says.

“...You sound bitter, captain,” Spock replies, and only the public broadcasting standards of 1967 prevent Kirk from saying “no SHIT, Sher-Spock.” But after a moment he says that he’s not bitter enough to forget to thank Spock for all his efforts. “It’s not all bad, Mr. Spock,” he adds. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to beat your next captain at chess.”

Kirk’s attempt at levity falls flat, and not only because he’s talking to Spock; he just can’t muster enough of his usual confidence to make it sound light-hearted instead of tired and, well, bitter. But that joke didn’t die in vain. After Kirk hangs up, we see Spock sitting at his station on the bridge, looking suddenly thoughtful. “Chess,” he says to himself, and then suddenly gets up and leaves.

Unaware that Spock’s having a dramatic revelation, Kirk is all set to get back to moping when Jame bursts into the room. Starting to think that bursting in dramatically is the only way Jame knows how to enter a room. She’s not here to accuse Kirk again, though: instead she makes a beeline for Cogley, ignoring Kirk’s attempt to introduce them, and says, “We’ve got to stop this. Make him take a ground assignment. I realize it wasn’t his fault. I won’t make any trouble. Make him change his plea.”

Well, that’s...quite a turn-around. Kirk gently tells her that it’s too late for that, but he’s glad that at least she doesn’t blame him anymore. She tells him that she’s sorry and that she was so upset at first that she wasn’t thinking when she lashed out at him. She didn’t realize just how close Kirk and Finney were until she was going through his papers and read some letters he had written to her and her mother. And I hope you’re not on the edge of your seat to find out more about Jame’s mom and if she’s alive or dead or divorced or what, because that is the one and only mention of her that we’re going to get for this entire episode.

Anyway, Jame says that she now realizes that the idea of Kirk betraying Finney like she at first believed is ridiculous, and besides, ruining Kirk’s life and career isn’t going to change what happened. Cogley notes that “no use crying over spilled milk” is a bit of an unusual outlook to take towards the guy that, according to all current evidence, probably killed your dad. Kirk shrugs it off completely and says he has to go change since the trial’s resuming soon. “You ready?” he asks Cogley, who presumably feels no such need since he’s been wearing the same clothes for the whole episode.

“No,” Cogley says thoughtfully. “But I may be getting ready...”

Meanwhile, up on the ship, Spock is hanging out in one of the Enterprise’s miscellaneous rooms, playing chess with the computer. Not playing chess on the computer; he’s just sitting with a physical board with the computer reading out its moves to him. You’d think by the 23rd century we’d have better chess programs, but maybe Spock just likes the retro feel.

If Spock was hoping to have a quiet and uninterrupted game of chess, though, he didn’t do a great job picking his spot, because McCoy comes bursting in with a pre-emptive head of steam all built up. He takes one look at Spock and the chessboard and declares, “Well I had to see it to believe it...they’re about to lop off the captain’s professional head and you’re sitting here playing chess with the computer!”

I like the implication here that someone has told on Spock to McCoy. “OMG doctor you’ll never believe what I just saw Mr. Spock doing!” “SPILL THE TEA ENSIGN.”

When Spock doesn’t particularly react to this accusation, McCoy tells him that “you’re the most cold-blooded man I ever met,” which Spock accepts as a compliment. Then, as McCoy is turning to leave—I guess this was just a drive-by call-out—Spock calmly announces that he’s about to win his fourth game. McCoy pauses at the door and says that that’s impossible, but Spock demonstrates his claim by putting the computer into checkmate.

McCoy’s look of open, stunned confusion tells us two things: one, that this is a big deal and shouldn’t be happening (unless Spock is using cheat codes or something) and two, McCoy has a surprisingly thorough understanding of the limitations of the Enterprise chess computer given that we’ve never seen him show any interest in chess whatsoever. Either McCoy plays chess against the computer without telling anyone about it, or Spock talked his ear off about it at some point.

Spock elucidates for us that mechanically, the computer is flawless, so therefore its record of Kirk’s guilt must also be flawless—but, being the super logical and detached person that he is, he just couldn’t accept the reality of that guilt. “So you tested the program bank,” McCoy muses. Exactly, Spock says—he programmed it himself, so he knows that the best he should possibly have been able to achieve was a draw.

So someone tampered with the Enterprise computer log in a way that left no evidence that anything was wrong or out of place with the log, but did make a totally unrelated program malfunction. Sure, that makes sense. You know, the weirdest part about all this to me isn’t even that, it’s that for all everyone talks about the computer log and how the computer doesn’t make mistakes, the computer log in question is, as we’ve discussed, a visual recording. It’s not some kind of hard data entry on what the operations the computer was doing at a certain point, it’s a recording made by a camera! Which means everyone in this episode of a television show is just going around saying “well there’s no possible way to alter an image if that image was recorded onto a computer so I guess that has to be true.” Yes, I realize it was 1967 and they weren’t exactly making this in Final Cut Pro, but that doesn’t make it any easier to take seriously.

McCoy takes a moment to stand there and let this revelation sink in, before redirecting his outrage into demanding to know why Spock is just sitting around with this information. Spock doesn’t deign to answer that, instead calling the transporter room and telling them “Stand by, we’re beaming down.” Note the ‘we’; Spock knows damn well McCoy is coming along whether Spock wants him to or not.

Back on the Starbase, Stone is ringing the ceremonial bell with the ceremonial stick to resume the trial. He announces that “the board will entertain motions before delivering its verdict.” Wow, they really are gonna wrap this whole thing up in all of two sessions, huh. That sure was a quick trial. Then again, I guess there’s not all that much you can do when the defense folded after the first piece of evidence got shown.

Shaw says that the prosecution rests, apparently not even seeing the need to make a closing argument. Cogley stands up next. He tries to come up with something, but all he can manage is to shrug and say, “The defense rests.” Thanks man, you’re a real help. That vague-but-dramatic remark about “I might be getting ready” didn’t come to much, did it?

[ID: Cogley, who is wearing a dark brown corduroy shirt with shiny light brown rounded lapels, two large pockets on either side, and one smaller pocket in the middle of the shirt, standing up at a table  and saying, “Sir...”]

“I OBJECT!” “On what grounds?” “I couldn’t think of anything else to say.”

You know, I’ve been giving Jame grief for the Sailor Moon clothes, but I’d really be remiss to not take a moment here to take Cogley to task for what he’s wearing. We’ve got, like, a turtleneck that just didn’t feel like making an effort that day, over some thing that I’m sure was meant to invoke an eccentric academic tweed-jacket-with-patches-on-the-elbows kind of look, but why does it have one pocket positioned directly over the center of the stomach? And what does he have in it? Is that a nail file? What’s going on here? Tim Gunn would never stand for this, I’ll tell you that.

Well, I guess that’s it for our hero. The trial is over. Kirk is guilty--

[ID: A gif from an Ace Attorney game of someone shouting “HOLD IT!” in large bubble red letters over a white starbust.]

WHAT’S THIS?? Two new witnesses have just run into the courtroom! Spock and McCoy have arrived with crucial information just in the nick of time! What a close call. They couldn’t get there any earlier, of course, because they had to stop and change into their dress shirts first. If you’re gonna dramatically barge into a courtroom, you have to look your best.

McCoy starts talking to Kirk while Spock talks to Cogley. Well, I say ‘talk.’ The scene is clearly aiming for ‘frantic whispering’ but they overshot that a little bit; Spock and McCoy are just moving their mouths while making literally no sound. If there wasn’t other sound going on at the same time I would have thought that my cat had ruined my earbuds. Again.

That other source of sound is Stone, yelling at Cogley, who is not the one causing the disturbance but makes a better target I guess. Cogley quickly breaks off the non-conversation to run up and address the board, saying that some new evidence has just been brought to his attention. HOLD IT! Shaw protests—Cogley’s already rested his case! Thanks Shaw. I bet you were that kid who’d remind the teacher that they hadn’t assigned the homework five minutes before class ends.

Stone asks Cogley what the nature of this evidence is and Cogley says that he can’t tell them, he has to show them. Really? I think you could tell them pretty easily. Here, I’ll give it a shot: “Mr. Spock’s discovered a flaw in the computer that indicates it was tampered with after all.” There, sorted.

Shaw protests that “Mr. Cogley is well known for his theatrics.” “Is saving an innocent man’s career a theatric?!” Cogley demands (theatrically). It’s probably not, mostly because I don’t think you can have just one theatric.

Stone tells the lawyers to stop bickering among themselves and that if they’ve got something to say they can say it to the whole class. Cogley is all too eager to do just that now that he “finally has something to talk about.” By ‘something to talk about’ he does not, of course, mean this new evidence and its significance. Rather, he wants to talk about “Rights, sir, human rights, the Bible, the Code of Hammurabi, and of Justinian, Magna Carta, the Constitution of the United States, fundamental declarations of the Martian Colonies, the statutes of Alpha 3—gentlemen, these documents all speak of rights.”

Yes, yes, nice use of “let me remind you that we’re in the future by listing a bunch of real things along with a couple fictional ones” but WHAT are you TALKING about? You just listed a bunch of things that have laws in them! What does that have to do with anything? Are you just trying to prove that you are so a real lawyer? This is no way to win a court case!

It’s not just me who’s confused, either—look at Spock’s face while all this is happening.

[ID: Spock, wearing his dress uniform, looking off at an angle and frowning in puzzlement.]

Cogley starts talking about the various rights these documents speak of, because all of them definitely cover the same ground, sure, that seems right. Eventually he comes around to some kind of point, which is that these documents all speak of the right for the accused to be confronted by the witnesses against them. Well...the Constitution sure does. The Bible says “I answered them that it was not the custom of the Romans to give up anyone before the accused met the accusers face to face and had opportunity to make his defense concerning the charge laid against him.” so I guess that counts. The Magna Carta, on the other hand, basically only says that people (meaning men, of course) have the right to a lawful trial. And the Code of Hammurabi says “If any one bring an accusation against a man, and the accused go to the river and leap into the river, if he sink in the river his accuser shall take possession of his house. But if the river prove that the accused is not guilty, and he escape unhurt, then he who had brought the accusation shall be put to death, while he who leaped into the river shall take possession of the house that had belonged to his accuser,” so I’m not sure how we should go about applying that one here.

But more importantly, you might note that at no point in all this has he mentioned any actual specific current laws of the society they’re in. All he’s said is that some people, at some times, have said that that was a law. You can’t just go around invoking all the laws that anyone’s ever made! It’d be chaos! Alcohol would be simultaneously legal and illegal! Society would collapse!

But before anyone gets the chance to point this out, Cogley barrels right on ahead, declaring that this right—the right to be confronted with the witnesses against him—is a right to which his client has been! DENIED! Shaw jumps up and says that this is ridiculous, which, I mean, yes, for a lot of reasons, but specifically she points out that all the witnesses were produced in court and Cogley had the chance to cross-examine all of them, a chance he didn’t take. Well...technically speaking, everyone Shaw brought to the stand was there to give an expert opinion on something, not because they witnessed the crime. There were no witnesses to the crime, per se. Except for, as Cogley points out...the computer.

“The most devastating witness against my client is not a human being,” he says. “It’s a machine, an information system—the computer log of the Enterprise. And I ask this court adjourn and reconvene aboard that vessel.” Whoa wait what hang on now

Shaw protests this sudden turn of events—not objects, just protests—which makes Cogley start going on about rights again. Kirk has the right to face his accuser, he insists—again, at no point has he cited an actual current legal basis for this right—and if the court doesn’t grant that right, “[they]have brought us down to the level of the machine. Indeed, you have elevated that machine above us. I ask that my motion be granted, and more than that, gentlemen, in the name of humanity, fading in the shadow of the machine, I demand it. I demand it!”

“If you don’t run this trial the way I want humanity is doomed” is a rather bold stance to take, but surprisingly the court seems willing to go for it, because after the break Kirk gives a log to tell us “After due consideration, the general court-martial has reconvened on board the Enterprise.” Specifically, it’s reconvened in the briefing room, or maybe one of the briefing rooms, I’m not quite sure how many there actually are. And evidently Kirk, Spock and McCoy took the time to change along the way, since they’re all back to their regular non-dress shirts.

Cogley asks Spock how many games of chess he won against the computer and Spock says “five in all.” That number’s gone up somehow; earlier he told McCoy it was four. Cogley then asks if this is unusual and Spock says yes, because he programmed the computer himself and gave it an understanding of chess equal to his own. Thanks Spock, that was real considerate of you. Did you add any other difficulty levels in there, just in case there’s anyone on the ship who doesn’t want to play on Deity all the time?

“The computer cannot make an error, and assuming that I do not either, the best that could normally be hoped for would be stalemate after stalemate, and yet I beat the machine five times,” Spock goes on. “Someone, either accidentally or deliberately, adjusted the programming, and therefore the memory banks of that computer.” This is so not how computers work. I’m not even sure that’s how chess works.

Could that have an effect on the visual playback, then? Cogley asks. Shaw objects, saying that “the witness would be making a conclusion.” Is that...not something witnesses are allowed to do? What’s the point of having someone testify about their expert knowledge if they can’t make so much as a simple ‘if→ then’ statement? I don’t know, but I guess Stone does, because he sustains the objection, forcing Cogley to switch tacks.

Hypothetically, Cogley says—you can ask anything if you just put ‘hypothetically’ in front of it—hypothetically, if something like this had been done, it would be beyond the capabilities of most people, right? Spock confirms this, so Cogley asks who, aboard this ship, would that not be beyond the capabilities of? That would be Spock, himself, Spock says, the captain, and the records officer. Hang on, the captain? Since when does Kirk have that much knowledge of computers? And do we really not have any other computer experts on this ship? We’ve got a whole engineering department down there to make sure all the components of the ship are working correctly, but if the computer controlling all those components fails, you’ve got all of three people skilled enough to fix it? None of whom even has a position dedicated to that? Wow, what could go wrong here.

Actually, as Cogley points out, at the moment it’s not even three people—it’s two, because they don’t currently have a records officer. The last one died in a tragic accident involving an ion storm and a pod, you may have heard something about it. Cogley then turns to Kirk and asks him to describe the steps he took to find Finney after the storm. Kirk says he instituted a phase one search, which he describes as “a painstaking thorough attempt in and around a ship to find a man who’s presumably injured and unable to respond.” Of course, since the man they were looking for had been ejected from the ship straight into an ion storm, this search unsurprisingly did not turn anything up.

But...what if he wasn’t? This search, Cogley says, “presupposes, does it not, that a man wishes to be found?” Kirk stares back at him blankly, so Cogley has to elaborate—well, when you’re doing this search, you assume the person isn’t deliberately hiding, don’t you? What if they were? On a ship this size, how well could someone evade a search, if they really wanted to?

The penny finally drops. It’s clear from Kirk’s stunned expression that he never once considered this. He really does tend to think the best of people, Kirk does—even knowing how much Finney had hated him, the idea that he might be trying to get revenge on Kirk, that all this could be anything more than a tragic accident, never even crossed Kirk’s mind. Bless.

“Possibly,” he says grimly. Cogley turns triumphantly to the board and says, “Gentlemen, I submit to you that Lieutenant Commander Ben Finney is NOT DEAD!” Oh, the drama of it all!

We then cut—via a screenwipe, unusually for TOS—to the bridge, where the whole group is now camped out, along with Uhura and two helm officers, all of whom are probably feeling pretty dang confused right now. Stone says they’re waiting for proof of what Cogley said in the briefing room. Cogley says that they’ll have their proof, but first he needs the cooperation of the court in conducting an experiment. He then defers to Kirk, who he’s apparently had a conversation with at some point in-between scenes, because Kirk is able to fill in the next steps of the plan: it requires everyone onboard except the command crew and the trial members to leave the ship. So he’s ordering them all to report to the transporter room. Everyone. All 424 of them. And the transporter moves six people at a time. This is gonna take a while.

Oh, and Cogley’s also leaving; he says he has “an errand ashore of vital importance to the purpose of this court, and [he] will return.” The board is remarkably okay with the counsel for the defense up and strolling off in the middle of the trial with essentially no explanation for where he’s going or why, not something I would recommend trying in a real courtroom.

They are, however, a little concerned about this whole “everybody off the ship” business. Stone asks Kirk if he’s at least leaving an engine crew aboard but Kirk says no: the impulse engines have been shut down, and they’re going to maintain orbit purely via momentum. “And when the orbit begins to decay?” one of the board members said, which incidentally is the only line of dialogue any of them besides Stone have for the whole episode. Kirk just says they hope to be finished long before that happens. Seriously, you couldn’t come up with a way to do all this that doesn’t involve just hoping you won’t wind up crashing into a planet? And how many people did it take you to drag Scotty out of Engineering once you told him this plan? Because there’s no way he went willingly.

Sometime later (we’re not told how long that took, but if we generously assume it takes one minute to transport six people, it had to be at least 70 minutes) with just about everyone now off the ship, Kirk begins explaining to the board that the computer has an auditory sensor. “It can, in effect, hear sounds,” he adds, in case they can’t figure out what that means. “By installing a booster, we can increase that capability on the order of one to the fourth power. The computer should be able to bring us every sound occurring on the ship.” One to the fourth power? You mean...one?

Just then, the transporter operator calls in to say that all personnel have left the ship, except for him obviously. Kirk gives Spock the go-ahead, and Spock pushes a button. Suddenly an extremely loud, distorted heartbeat sound fills the bridge. Oh shit. Okay, who murdered a dude and stashed his body under the floorboards? Own up.

Kirk explains—after telling Spock to turn the sound down before eardrums start blowing out-- that the sound is the computer picking up the heartbeats of everyone on the ship. Just their heartbeats, not any other autonomic noises like breathing or digestion, or the sounds of any of the systems still running on the Enterprise. Just heartbeats. That is one selective auditory sensor you’ve got there. He then says that McCoy is going to use a “white sound device,” aka a microphone with a rubber band around it, “to mask out each person’s heartbeat so that it will be eliminated from the sounds we’re hearing” because that’s definitely a thing that makes sense.

McCoy goes around the bridge pointing the microphone at everyone’s chests (including Spock, whose heart would later be revealed to be somewhere else altogether), which causes their heartbeats to go away one by one. Finally McCoy uses the device on himself, leaving only the sound of the transporter operator’s heartbeat. “Mr. Spock, eliminate his heartbeat,” Kirk says. Whoa now, hey, what do you have against the transporter operator—oh. Oh, I see what you meant.

Spock flips a switch (and they said we’d never need an Eliminate Transporter Operator’s Heartbeat switch on the bridge!). Everyone should now be accounted for...but there’s still the sound of a heartbeat coming from somewhere. Stone very slowly gets up, walks across the bridge to find the most dramatic vantage point to stand in, and says, “...Finney.”

Yep, it looks like Finney is still alive and hiding out somewhere on the ship. Either that, or the Enterprise is haunted. 50/50. Kirk tells Spock to localize the sound and Spock says it’s coming from B deck, in or near Engineering. So Kirk has him seal that area of the deck off, and then heads for the lift, but stops because Stone is still standing there.

“So Finney is alive,” he says. Yes, thank you, Commodore Obvious.

“Commodore, this is my problem,” Kirk says. “I would appreciate it if no one left the bridge.” He hops in the lift, and I guess Stone at this point has completely given up on any attempt to exert control over the trial, because he makes no attempt to stop Kirk waltzing off the bridge. But hey, he’s just going off, completely alone, to confront a man so desperately and irrationally vengeful that he faked his own death to set Kirk up for murder—what could possibly go wrong?

So Kirk goes stalking off down the empty corridors, narrating—not giving a log, just narrating-- to us that “Sam Cogley had gone ashore to bring Jame Finney onboard. We both felt that Jame’s presence would make Finney easier to handle in the event Finney really were alive.” Oh, that sounds like a handy thing for Cogley to do. Sure would be nice if there was any sign of that happening right about now. Any...any time now.

Back on the bridge, everyone is listening to Kirk wander around shouting “BEN!” when one of the helm guys says that he’s “encountering variants.” Spock tells him to compensate. Shaw asks what this means, and Stone says it means their orbit is beginning to decay. Well, that was fast. So much for hoping that wouldn’t be an issue!

Kirk is still walking around Engineering yelling for Finney when suddenly he hears a reply: “Hello, captain...nothing to say, captain?” It’s presumably Finney, but there’s still no sign of anyone, no clue as to where the voice is coming from, so we still can’t rule out the “the Enterprise is haunted” angle just yet.

Apparently Kirk is not a proponent of that theory, because he calls back, “I’m glad you’re alive.” “You mean you’re relieved because you think your career is saved,” Finney sneers back. “Well you’re wrong!” He seems nice.

Kirk squeezes through a gap that’s in the wall for some reason and comes out in another part of Engineering, calling to Finney that it’s not too late, they can help him. “Like you helped me all along, kept me down, robbed me of my own command?” Finney says. “I’m a good officer. As good as you. I’ve watched you for years. The great Captain Kirk!”

Then, as Kirk passes along the wall, an arm suddenly comes out of a gap and sticks a phaser in Kirk’s back. Good news, you found Finney! Bad news, well, just one little minor detail, I’m sure we can sort that out.

“They told you to do it to me,” Finney says as he emerges the rest of the wall from his hiding place. I had figured he was talking into an intercom or something, but apparently he just has really good projection. “You all conspired against me, ruined me! But you won’t do it anymore!” Then he takes Kirk’s phaser and throws it away somewhere. I am shocked, shocked, I tell you, that this man would be so careless about gun safety.

Kirk, still looking unperturbed about all this, calmly tells Finney to put the phaser down. Finney says he wouldn’t kill Kirk—oh, no. Kirk’s own death would mean too little to him, which, well, yeah, it’s hard to care about very much after you’re dead. But Kirk’s ship…

[ID: Finney, a white man with graying brown hair, raising one eyebrow in a demented expression and saying, “Oh, I wouldn’t kill you, captain.”]

If you ever find yourself making this expression during an argument, it’s a good sign you may no longer be the more reasonable party.

“What about my ship?” Kirk immediately demands, doing an excellent job of confirming to Finney that he was right on the money with that one. Finney gleefully says that the ship is dead, he killed it. Specifically, he did something to the primary energy circuits. Huh, maybe emptying the entire ship so that the man we suspected to have an irrational grudge so big he would fake his own death over it could have the run of the place wasn’t a great idea.

Kirk runs over to a comm and asks Spock what their orbit status is. Spock and the helm guy confirm that their orbit is decaying fast, much faster than it should, even with the dodgy orbital mechanics in TOS. They’re out of power, Finney says—he knows this ship too, because it should have been his, would have been if Kirk hadn’t kept him from it. Oh, grow up and go to therapy like the rest of us.

Why kill innocent people? Kirk asks Finney. Finney—who started sweating buckets in-between shots—laughs and says there’s no innocents here, just officers and gentlemen, captains all, “except for Finney and his one mistake, a long time ago...but they don’t forget!” And, you know, the transporter officer, communications officer, two helm officers, the first officer and a doctor. Plus everyone on the starbase below, which was probably not built to survive an enormous starship crashing into the planet. But I’m sure Finney’s worked out some way in which they’re all responsible for his misfortunes as well. Kirk tries to take the bullet, telling Finney to place all the blame on him, but Finney says no, everyone’s to blame! Everyone but him! He was a good officer! He loved the service! He’s a completely reasonable, rational man with great judgment, and that’s why an enormous conspiracy involving all of Starfleet is the only possible reason why he hasn’t been promoted any farther yet! Then he starts crying. Great.

Meanwhile on the bridge, Spock and the helm guy are trying to fix their orbit but having no success, so Spock tells everyone they need to get to the transporter room pronto. But Stone cuts in and says, “Mr. Spock, the court has not yet reached a verdict. We’ll hear this witness out.” DUDE. PRIORITIES.

Kirk is still trying to talk Finney down, saying that it’s not too late for him to be helped, but it will be if he kills all these people. Finney insists that it’s only fair because “they killed [him]” which is either the world’s most over the top figure of speech, or he’s forgotten that he’s only pretending to be dead.

But then Kirk finally gets Finney’s attention by asking if Jame’s included in that deal. Finney, horrified, asks what he means by that, and Kirk says she’s onboard by now. Of course, he has no evidence of this, but Finney believes him anyway. “Why did you do that?” he wails. “WHY DID YOU BRING HER HERE?”

Kirk takes advantage of his distraction to rush him. That’s right, it’s FIGHT SCENE TIME. More specifically, it’s Fight Scene With The World’s Most Obvious Stunt Doubles Time. Seriously, it’s amazing.

[ID: Two shots of a pair of men fighting in Engineering. They are very clearly not the original actors.]

After a lot of general thrashing around, Finney gets his hands on a wrench. Not, like, a futuristic space wrench or anything. Just a regular old wrench, which is sitting on its own little wrench pedestal for some reason, like a museum exhibit.

[ID: Finney grabbing a wrench that’s sitting on a gray block built into the wall.]

Finney grabs it and starts going full Bioshock, swinging wildly at Kirk, but Kirk manages to dodge his way out of a serious head injury. Or at least, his stunt double does.

And yes, Kirk gets his shirt ripped.

[ID: Kirk with the front of his shirt ripped completely off his right sleeve, bracing himself as Finney takes a swing at him.]

Eventually, Kirk manages to get Finney up against a wall and clobber him on the jaw a few times, putting him down for the count. Then Kirk resumes his narration, telling us that, “Beaten and sobbing, Finney told me where he had sabotaged the prime energy circuits. The damage he had caused was considerable, but not irreparable. With luck, I would be able to effect repairs before our orbit decayed completely.”

The reason we’re getting this narration is that originally, there would have been a scene actually showing Jame entering Engineering and Finney’s reaction, which was actually shot but cut for time. Without that scene, the question of whether Jame was ever actually on the ship is kind of left open. Cogley says he was going to go get her, but obviously they haven’t returned by the time the whole heartbeat-test thing goes on, we never hear any word from the transporter operator about them coming up after that, and presumably no one would beam them up once they realized the ship was currently crashing. Kirk telling Finney that Jame is onboard “by now” is clearly a shot in the dark, but since Finney accepts this anyway, the whole venture becomes kind of a moot point.

While he’s narrating, we see Kirk climbing up a Jeffries tube, because, sure, he’s an engineer now, why not. His repair job seems to consist entirely of pulling wires out of the wall with his bare hands, but evidently it works because after a bit of shaking back and forth, the helmsman reports that power is returning. They’re able to activate the impulse engines again and stabilize their orbit. You hear that, Scotty? It’s all good. Put the phaser down.

Stone turns to Shaw and says, “Unless the prosecution has an objection, I rule this court to be dismissed.” Shaw says she has absolutely no objection. Stone doesn’t ask the rest of the board, but they don’t seem to have opinions on anything so it’s probably for the best.

Some time later, after everyone’s come back onboard and, presumably, Finney’s been led away to a quiet room somewhere, Kirk is on the bridge having a little soft focus moment with Shaw. She asks when she’ll see him again, and he says that depends on the stars. Poetic. Then she says that Cogley asked her to give Kirk something—a book. “Not a first edition or anything, just a book. Sam says that makes it special, though.” Yeah, well, he would.

Kirk says he didn’t have much chance to thank Cogley, since he just kind of walked off camera and never came back. Shaw says he’s busy on a case: defending Finney, and he says he’ll win, too. Oh yeah, sure. He did such a great job with Kirk’s trial, after all. I’m sure it’ll be a piece of cake defending the guy whom several witnesses heard confessing to his intent to crash a starship and everyone on it into a planet.

“Do you think it would cause a complete breakdown of discipline if a lowly lieutenant kissed a starship captain on the bridge of his ship?” Shaw asks. Oh lord, have you heard the kind of things that go on aboard this ship? A shirtless crewman bursting onto the bridge with a rapier is just another day in the life around here. Making out with the captain doesn’t even rank.

Sure enough, they kiss, and no one takes any notice. Shaw says goodbye, and Kirk wishes her better luck next time. “I had pretty good luck this time,” she replies. “I lost, didn’t I?”

She leaves, and Kirk takes a moment to put his best serious face on, then goes to sit down in his chair.

[ID: 1. Kirk sitting in his chair on the bridge, flanked by Spock and McCoy. Kirk is saying, “She’s a very good lawyer.” 2. Spock replies, “Obviously.” 3. McCoy adds, “Indeed she is.”]

Court Martial is kind of a...scattered episode. It doesn’t seem to know quite what to do with itself. We’ve got all this stuff about the computer, and about the nature of the computer as a witness, which seems to be building up to some big philosophical point. But in the end it all has nothing to do with anything. The computer log is just a piece of evidence which was tampered with, and there’s really nothing deeper to it than that. All of Cogley’s rants about the computer and elevating it above mankind etc etc all have nothing to do with anything, his attitude never gives him any helpful insight, and in the end the computer is used to help prove Kirk innocent without anyone batting an eyelid at the irony. Meanwhile, the whole story about Finney and his years-long grudge has to share time with this, but the themes of those two story threads don’t really have anything in common, so instead of complementing each other they mostly just take focus away from each other.

There was another scene in here that was cut, although I don’t think that one ever got filmed—originally, it was going to be mentioned at some point that while Jame was going through those letters she mentioned, some things her dad said made her realize it was likely he might try something like this, hence her abrupt turn-around towards Kirk halfway through. But we didn’t get that, and we didn’t get her appearing at the end. I think it would have made the story stronger if we had gotten those scenes instead of people talking about the computer so much. Or they could have gone the other way, and focused more on the drama about the computer instead of having Jame show up periodically for ultimately no payoff. Neither of those stories are inherently bad, it’s just that the focus is too divided to do either one justice. It’s not a bad episode, but I think it could have been better.

Trek Trope Tally: The climactic battle with Finney brings our Uniforms Unformed tally up by one, for a total of 5 counts so far. Next time, everything’s gonna be just :) in The Return of the Archons.

[pheo742]

Super Sides~Chapter 5

A/N: this chapter does kind of end in a weird place, but I realized if I left this part in just one chapter it'd be SUPER long, so hope you don't mind! Anyway, enjoy:)

Warnings: mention of manipulation

Pairings: platonic Moxiety

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Patton?"

Virgil and Patton stood outside the local Starbucks, and while Patton seemed eager to go on in and already reaching for the door, Virgil was hesitant. It was a couple days after they had officially met, and the two seemingly opposite men had slowly started to become friends. Patton thought it was time to introduce him to the other two superheroes, but Virgil had his doubts.

"Come on, kiddo! They'll love you!" Patton said with a smile. "Once they know you as 'Virgil', they'll be fine with you being 'Abyss'."

Even though they had met up a couple times already, Virgil still wasn't used to seeing Patton not in his costume. He thought it was funny that Patton wore glasses; he had these incredible powers yet poor eyesight? But his causal clothes did match his cheerful if not a little silly personality. Patton wore a baby blue t-shirt with a light gray jacket that had little ears fashioned onto to the hood.

It was nice to have someone bubbly and goofy around, something Virgil was not used to. That's why Virgil was terrified that what they were about to do was going mess up this good thing he had. What if Patton's friends hated him? Even worse, what if they arrested him? He was technically a criminal after all. But above all, he was scared out of his mind about what Deceit was going to do. He hated seen his for mentor since he failed to kill Catastrophe, but this absence made him even more paranoid. He knew how Deceit operated; he was definitely planning something. Between his shapeshifting and his powers of persuasion, Deceit could manipulate or imitate anyone. Not only was Virgil worried about himself, but for the first time in his life he actually had a friend, and he couldn't live with himself if something happened to Patton because of him.

Patton could tell Virgil was having troubling thoughts, so he put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Virge. Everything will be fine! I promise."

Even though Virgil disagreed, he nodded and took a deep breath. Together, they walked into the Starbucks. Virgil looked around in confusion.

"I still don't get why we're here of all places," Virgil grumbled."

"This is one of our favorite meeting spots!"

Virgil quirked a brow. "Is it really a good idea for a bunch of powered people meeting up in a public place like Starbucks?"

Patton giggled. "It's only safe when Remy working."

"Remy?"

Patton pointed to the cash register. "That barrista over there."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "The one wearing sunglasses even though we're inside?"

"Yep!" Patton replied enthusiastically, but then lowered his voice. "He has powers too, but uses them more to mess with people than fight crime. Even so, he knows all about our powers and make sure we have some privacy when we discuss our cases."

Virgil observed the barista, who seemed to be one of the most flamboyant people Virgil had ever seen. Remy currently was engaged in an argument with a customer, sass spewing out of his mouth. Virgil had no idea what kind of super powers he could have. Before he could meet him, Patton tugged his arm eagerly.

"We can get our drinks later! I'm just so excited for you guys to meet!"

Patton practically had to drag a not-so-excited Virgil over to the very back of coffee shop where two guys were sitting. One of them looked like he had walked out of a fashion magazine, with a stylish red shirt underneath a white leather jacket and he had beautifully messy brunette hair. He was sipping a super sugary looking latte. The other man was a lot more subtle and serious, a plain black sure suited with a blue necktie, his spiky dark brown hair combed perfectly. He had what seemed like just a simple black coffee. They both stared at Patton as he brought over a very scared looking Virgil.

"Roman, Logan, this is my friend I was talking about!" Patton treated Virgil like he was his first grade show and tell.

The one in the white jacket looked Virgil up and down, and then smirked. "Where did you find him? Did you drag him out the very back of a Hot Topic?"

Virgil scowled and even without the costume he knew that this was Blaze. Patton gave Virgil the run through about who was who before they came, so Virgil now knew that Blaze's real name was Roman. The name was elegant and over the top, fitting for Blaze.

The more serious man, who Virgil deduced was Brainstorm aka Logan, gave Roman an annoyed look and turned to Virgil.

"I'm sorry about my friend here, he can be a bit-what's that slang term? Oh right-extra. But nevermind that, I'm Logan." He offered his hand. "It's nice to meet an acquaintance of Patton. I hope that-"

Logan cut off suddenly, and his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned into a frown. "Patton...That was very foolish of you to do," he said in an annoyed voice.

"What?" Patton squealed, trying real hard to look as innocent as possible.

Logan kept his voice low enough so only the four of them could hear. "You can easily hide your thoughts from my powers, but your friend here cannot. I know who he is."

Roman looked confused. "What are you talking about, Tom Snooze?"

Logan ignored Roman and instead stared directly at Virgil, speaking in a matter of fact tone. "Abyss is sitting right in front of us."

Tag list: Tags: @badacebitch @a-pastel-pan @toujours-fidele @sweetie2136 @squadlessgeek @alix-the-skeleton @generalfandomfabulousness @artemispowell @romananalogicality @a-simple-fryingpan @a-wild-zaneta @booksgamesnetflix @entpscarleharrrr @fandoms-n-ship @neonb-fly

[carrowe]

AMYCUS CARROW is A DEATH EATER in the war, even though HIS official job is as A CURSE BREAKER & HIT MAN. the TWENTY SIX year old PUREBLOOD is known to be PATIENT and RESERVED but also VIOLENT and TWO FACED. some might label them as THE DEVIL IN DISGUISE. fc: ryan gosling 

        hey it’s lizzie back at it with being a fucking idiot ( aka i can’t write good, wholesome characters that are not james to save my life so even though i love mae... she gotta go :/ i’m sorry!!! ). so bringing back my favorite sociopath but... revamped 2 be darker because was inspired ♥ !!

ANTHEMS:

rail road track - willy moon // blood on my name - the brothers bright // shakin - willy moon // dogs of war - blues saraceno // feel it still - portugal the man.

full playlist: (x) pinterest boards: v1. v2.

BACKGROUND / FAMILY ( bound to change probably ):

Amycus Abigor Carrow is the first born child of the Carrow dynasty. His father named him after the prince of hell, in the hopes that his son would prove himself worthy of the name. Amycus would, but not in the way his father had hoped.

As a child, Amycus was very quiet. Mostly kept to himself and his sister. Never harmed a fly. 

Amycus was the product of a loveless marriage, based on pureblood politics. His parents couldn’t stand each other, and were each other’s polar opposites. Amycus would later realize that they were doomed from the start.

child abuse tw:// Amycus’ father was a cold business man, and was not very interested in being a father to Amycus. He mostly made excuses to be as far away from the family life as possible. 

So Amycus was left to his grandfather, a man that put great emphasis on pain ( believing it was the only way that Amycus would learn and become stronger ). Lessons were drilled in with corporal punishment, and the emotional and physical abuse he suffered at the hands of his father would eventually break him down into something colder and darker. Feelings were deemed weak, and had to be firmly repressed - which would leave behind a shell of a boy. 

Gained a definite rebellious streak during his teenage years, and would do EVERYTHING and anything to fuck with his dad.

Eventually moved out, at the age of 15. Figured either he’d move out or kill his father, and settled on the former.

Remaining summers were spent living at the Hog’s Head Inn.

The Carrow family did not want to air their dirty laundry to the world, so they never formally denounced Amycus. Most other pureblood families know that they had a falling out though.

Alecto is his other half, and they come as a matching set. Without her, he feels incomplete, and she’s also the only person who truly knows him. 

MAIN CHANGES FROM THE PREVIOUS AMYCUS’ TIMELINE:

Main thing probably is that he is more refined. More dangerous. Still pretty fucking dumb, but less rough around the edges. Also has more self control which is good for him!!!

Still a brickwall in terms of sharing (always so private), but way more polite? More controlled, less crude. Instead of just grunting in reply, homeboy might try to actually act like a human being. So definitively less gruff.

Also can’t just typecast him as ‘ hm this is probably a pretty bad dude ‘ when first meeting him anymore so that's kinda problematic :/ May cause some issues :/

AESTHETIC / VIBES:

old gramophones, blood stained polaroids, broken glasses, bleeding fists, standing in silence for hours, chipped teeth, unwavering loyalty, unhealed scars, getting home at the crack of dawn, red wine, long showers, god complexes, the color of the sunset, messy hair, blood soaked suits, always cheating death, a rebel just for kicks, half smiles, just beating and beating until the world stops, no conscience, half empty wine bottles, impersonal offices, a face that doesn’t quite match his demeanor.

HOGWARTS YEARS:

Was a hat stall between Slytherin and surprisingly enough, Hufflepuff. But his sister was sorted into Slytherin, and Amycus won’t go anywhere without his twin.

With the Slytherins, he found a new home, far away from his grandfather.

I would say that he is not exactly book smart, and he got pretty shit grades while at the school. The one subject where he really excelled was charms, but he also did all right in transfigurations and herbology.

Is more muscle than brains, most of the time tbh.

At the age of fifteen, Amycus stopped going back to his family home. He was becoming strong enough (from years of fighting) to challenge his father, and decided to just drop all contact. Today, he only sees his dad at the occasional pureblood party / event, where he ignores him.

torture tw :// Violence breeds violence, and the pain and suffering he had endured at home soon translated into him torturing fellow students.

Did not spend a lot of time in detention, despite all the fighting? Was that prick who got away with a lot because of his angel face. Eventually, teachers caught on though and Amycus got into his fair share of trouble as well ( most definitively became viewed as a Disturbed Child™ ).

During his time at the school, he earned some extra cash from doing odd jobs ( which mostly entailed torturing specific students per request ).

His electives at the school were: alchemy, care of magical creatures and divination. He was in no clubs at the school.

AFTER HOGWARTS:

Became a curse breaker soon after graduating.

First few years were spent abroad, working in tombs for Gringotts, recovering lost artifacts and breaking ancient curses.

Eventually, he made his way back home, and found work for the ministry. He works at the office for the removal of curses, jinxes and hexes, which is a subdivision of the improper use of magic office.

Unfortunately for him, this means that he has to work with a lot of other divisions. He hates it.

His day job as a curse breaker is sort of a disguise for what he considers to be his real job? He’s sort of a gun ( wand ) for hire, and will kill anyone who needs to be killed, for a price. Though the money really doesn’t matter all that much to him? 

Most of his clients are members of the sacred 28, who always want SOMEONE dead.

Kind of just aligned himself with the Death Eaters because 1. they have a more violent agenda 2. his sister.

Amycus isn’t the most invested in the whole pureblood supremacy thing ( though he’d never admit that ), but overall likes Voldemort and what he stands for.

Definitively fears Voldemort, and is quite happy that he’s not directly reporting to him.

Amycus mainly works for the Death Eaters as an information gatherer, which basically is just a nicer way to say that he tortures people until they tell him whatever they know. He’s disturbingly good at it, and usually works together with his sister.

Currently living in a large townhouse in London, with Alecto.

AS A PERSON:

Doesn’t give a single fuck about anyone that isn’t himself or his sister.

NEUTRAL EVIL. 

Doesn’t even have a moral compass, just does whatever is best for him. Has no interest in your righteous bullshit.

Looks a lot nicer than he is, which works to his advantage most of the time? Like he just looks like a nerdy, good dude. Couldn’t be further from the truth but... that’s besides the point. His face really doesn’t match the way he behaves.

Probably the most private person you’ll ever meet? He seldom reveals anything about himself, and when he does, it’s usually not true.

100% petty enough to lie about the smallest, most meaningless details.

SO self disciplined. Always in complete control, and it’s very hard to get a genuine reaction / rise out of him. Also so so so patient, and is happy to wait for whatever his current end game is.

Drinks and smokes heavily, but doesn’t personally think that he has a problem.

Mostly just a dumb asshole.

SO COLD.

Thrives off violence and is a total brute tbh.

Pretty good at hiding his death eater ties since he's... paranoid as FUCK. And also very private. Always wears a mask. But some people probably suspect... stuff anyways, if they've like. Spent longer than two hours with him. Listen if Amycus wasn't such a fucking asshole he probably could get away with it (/scooby doo villain voice). But then again, others will probably think he's just cold as shit.

Is a total demon, but looks like an angel. Helps a lot !!!

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:

This version of Amycus wears glasses, but fucking breaks them ALL THE TIME. The only thing keeping them together is magic.

Wears mostly suits for work ( bc he has to :/ ) but will wear those long black robes on his free time. Think a vampire cape, flying in the wind. That’s right, he really is THAT guy.

Will also wear stupid band tshirts a lot when not working.

Keeps his hair short.

Like 70% of his money is probably spent on buying new suits / robes / t shirts because he keeps either getting blood on them, or having them ripped to shreds in a fight.

Looks like he’s wearing the exact same shoes everyday but actually has like... 100 different pairs.

Eyes appear either blue or grey depending on the lighting.

Has some tattoos, and a half sleeve on his right arm, going from his shoulder down to his elbow.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES:

caleb haas ( quantico )- the snark. the assholery. the background. the black sheep.

clay haas ( quantico ) - just the right amount of polished. the style. the general aesthetic. the hair.

angelus ( btvs )- the disregard for human life. the darkness. the occasional brooding. the quips.

holden ford ( mindhunter ) - the scheming. the hidden ambition. the slyness. the resolution.

lucifer morningstar ( lucifer ) - the smile, the general vibe, the quips, the mannerisms, the darkness.

eric northman ( southern vampire mysteries ) - the confidence. the general dumbness. the stubbornness.

demon dean winchester ( supernatural ) - the occasional charm. the being an actual demon-ness. the blood lust. the bad jokes. the weakness for a pretty face.

wolverine ( x men ) - the violence. the moodiness. the hatred. the occasional gruff demeanor.

dexter morgan ( dexter ) - the serial killer vibe. the lust for blood. the violence. the loyalty to his sister. the sociopathy.

takeshi kovac ( altered carbon ) - the violence. the fucked up moral compass. the buried anger. the instinct to fight.

[dadvans]

guess it’s just another night alone

part two in the frat!ABO series for @kevystel (part one here)

The summer between Junior and Senior years Victor Nikiforov becomes completely unavoidable.

Victor is on principle, Yuuri suspects, an unavoidable person.  Last year he became the first Junior to run and be elected student body president.  He’s the lacrosse team’s star midfielder, leading the team in three undefeated seasons since Freshman year.  He’s president for Alpha Chi, one of three pre-eminent alpha-exclusive fraternities on campus.  His best friend is Christophe Giacometti, which means he’s always present at crew parties, usually hovering in the corner of Yuuri’s eye.  He’s the kind of unavoidable where he’s always catching his sleeve on Yuuri’s as they reach for the same cup.  Their elbows smell like the same chalk, their fingers smell like the same brand of tobacco.  It’s a sign of spending three years on the same campus together and developing habits, Yuuri is absolutely sure.  

But then Victor becomes a different type of unavoidable.

  The spring of their Junior year, Yuuri suffers a series of bad circumstances; his dog dies, his test scores suffer, he stress eats enough pasta from the school’s Italian station that Coach Cialdini notices and gives a very embarrassing lecture about how his weight effects the boat.  In the midst of everything, he forgets to check the expiration date on his hormone patches, and when they expire three months early, he hits an unexpected heat during the spring regatta quarter finals.  To use technical language, his boat comprised mostly of alpha males, “loses their shit.”

They come in last place.

Yuuri loses his status, and he loses the team, and he loses his scholarship.  There are a few conversations with the academic board, and then student life committee, but they only guarantee he’ll be able to finish his degree with minimal harassment.

Yuuri doesn’t want to finish anything in the wake of it; he doesn’t want to finish the year, the summer, the conversations he’s having with the student life committee, the meals he’s having alone suddenly on the second floor of the student academic building all by himself, the degree he promised he would always get his family (first omega to ever graduate!).  Yuuri only moves forward, because it is the only way to go.  

Victor, along with several dozen alpha suitors, decides this is the time to act.  

“Wait, why is this bad?  I thought you liked Victor,” Phichit says.  Best Boy, Beautiful Boy, Wonderful Boy Phichit, hot-blooded beta since 1997 who could give a fuck what Yuuri is; he’s run a few old jars of spaghetti sauce through the dishwasher and repurposed them for the only glassware in their apartment, refilled them with vodka and soda.  

“I’ve liked the idea of Victor,” Yuuri complains, already drunk.  “I don’t actually know him.  I’ve never talked to him.  Just-- just looked at him a lot.”

“He is very easy to look at,” Phichit agrees, taking a drink.  They’re on a couch they rescued from a street corner last year that gave Yuuri a rash for at least two weeks.  

“And he’s everywhere,” Yuuri complains, downing his fair share of the mason jar Phichit has provided.  “And it was like, before he was always everywhere, but he wasn’t calling my name or fighting his way through crowds to get to me, just like-- just like everyone else is.”

“Yeah,” Phichit says.  He strokes back Yuuri’s bangs from his forehead and crosses his feet on their coffee table.  

“I hate that this is what makes him care,” Yuuri says.  “I hate that he’s just like everyone else.”

“Yeah,” Phichit says again.

The summer is long and weird.  Yuuri, scholarship-less, ends up getting a job at a gym far away from campus.  It’s a sterile environment and he doesn’t know anyone coming through the doors, and the staff there is nice enough.  He still gets customers who come in though, lean a little too much over the counter or hang around afterwards asking too many personal questions, and Yuuri always wonders, do they know?   Can they smell it on me?  The part of himself that he still masks with hormone patches and desperately tries to hide, despite the fact that the people who mattered already found him out.  

He lives in an off-campus house with Phichit, and two beta sophomores from Phichit’s spring forensics course, Leo and Guang-Hong who are subletting after their original roommates bailed on the lease immediately following Yuuri’s hormone scandal.

(“Almost everyone in my family is an omega, except me and my dad,” Guang-Hong had offered the day they moved in, in lieu of nothing.  Yuuri had just been walking past to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Yeah, if you ever need someone’s ass kicked,” Leo had said suggestively.  They were both carrying in a bed frame and not only struggling with it, but also Yuuri noted, they were both at least four inches shorter than him.

“Thank you,” he’d replied.  “Please don’t kick anyone’s ass for me.  I’m okay.”)

It’s the quietest start to a summer he’s had in years.  He avoids the near-nightly parties at the crew house and the family of friends he’s recently divorced from.  He ignores the invitations to go out that he does get, because they’re all desperate alphas who want to court him out of want for someone they think is an equally desperate omega.  Even Victor Nikiforov.  Especially Victor Nikiforov. 

“He’s asking about you,” Phichit says, who has an internship down at City Hall that sounds like it is mostly licking envelopes with Christophe Giacometti.  “Christophe won’t shut up about it.  He says he’s never seen Victor like this.”

“Probably because no one’s ever told Victor ‘no’ before,” Yuuri replies, because why would they?  Under different circumstances, Yuuri thinks, for the right reasons.  How many times in the past three years had he stared at Victor’s back across the kitchen of a party, from the opposite end of a beer pong table and thought, please, please, look at me.

Phichit is quiet, which is terrible, because Phichit is mostly only quiet in conversation when he’s considering his language very carefully, AKA scheming.  Yuuri looks over at him on the couch and does not like the slow circles that Phichit is stirring his cheerios in like they’ll spell out answers for a question he’s not asking out loud.

“Phichit, no,” Yuuri says, because he does know.  He’s lived with Phichit and shared an eight-seat boat with Christophe Giacometti for too long to not know the exact pitch of both of their siren songs.  

“Look, it’s just like, Chris and I have been talking a lot--”

“Chris, huh.”

“Yeah, Chris.  Chris and I have been talking a lot.  According to him, Victor’s thing for you isn’t recent,” Phichit says, spoon swirling clockwise in the macaroni orange-stained tupperware he’s repurposed as a bowl.  He finally takes a small bite and chews thoughtfully.

“Before May 25th of this year, Victor had said two things to me: ‘is there a line for the bathroom? Whatever, I’ll just pee outside,’ at the crew Cinco de Mayo kegger Freshman year, and then ‘is anyone sitting here?’ one time in the dining hall last fall when I was sitting by myself, but when I said ‘no,’ he took the chair at my table and went and sat with other people.”

“Wow, Yuuri,” Phichit says. “Wow.”

“What?” Yuuri asks.

“Nothing,” Phichit replies.  “I have absolutely nothing to say to that.”

The next night, while Yuuri is working graveyard shift at the gym reception desk, Victor Nikiforov shows up and asks to register as a new member.  

“No,” Yuuri says automatically.  “I mean, what?”

“I’m sorry,” Victor says.  He’s draped over one elbow on the counter in his stupid Lacrosse team jacket that has his name stretched too tight across his broad shoulders, not that Yuuri would know, not that Yuuri is staring at the reflection of his back in the windows.  “Do I need to come back at a different time to register?  I realize it’s late.”

It’s two in the morning.  

“Did Phichit tell you I work here?  Or, or did Phichit tell Chris?”  Yuuri asks point blank.  

“I mean,” Victor says, “I was looking for a new gym, and--”

“Yuuri, problem?” Yuuri’s night supervisor asks, wheeling out a fresh bin of towels to the half-moon desk he’s seated at.  

“N-no, just a new, new customer, just getting him started filling out registration,” Yuuri says a little too loud over his shoulder, hand fumbling for a clipboard under the counter with registration information and a pen already clipped in.  He slides it toward Victor while smiling at her. “Friend from school.”  

“Okay, well,” she says, pauses.  “No socializing or anything.”

He doesn’t mention, again, it’s two in the morning, and keeps smiling at her back as she walks back down the hallway to her office.  

As soon as her door clicks shut, Victor says, “I wanted to see you.”

“Jesus,” Yuuri says.

“So yes, I asked around,” Victor says.  He slides the pen out from under the clip and starts filling out his personal information.  “People are worried about you, by the way.  No one has heard from you since the end of the semester.”

Yuuri doesn’t know why anyone would want to hear from him.  

“But also, I do have to stay in shape through the summer,” Victor says, “and I don’t think the school gym has been renovated since the eighties.”

That does actually shock a laugh out of Yuuri, who spent three years in the basement rowing room where condensation collected on the white brick and the small slit windows were permanently fogged up.  “That sounds like a job for the student body president,” he says, biting his lip to keep himself from smiling too wide.

“Excuse you,” Victor says, and he taps his pen against the clipboard and leans forward on his elbows, shaking his head.  “Do you know how many hand jobs I had to give the alumni association just to get the funding for compostable coffee sleeves?  So many.  The gym is a lost cause.”  

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says.  He’s trying to keep Victor from speaking directly to his soul and failing miserably.  And Victor smells so good this close, just the two of them in the dead of night.  He hates his instinct to curl up and into it, to crawl across the counter and lean forward on his palms to nose into Victor’s neck.  

“Someday someone is going to get tetanus from the weight room and I will not let myself be held accountable, because I tried,” Victor continues, and he’s so fucking earnest that Yuuri wants to die. “Anyway.  Do you need anything else from me?”

He slides the clipboard back over to Yuuri, and Yuuri curses himself internally that it takes him multiple seconds to get it together.

“Uh,” he says stupidly, “just first and last month’s payment, and, uh.  Driver’s license.”

“Of course,” Victor replies, fishing his wallet out of the duffel slung over his shoulder and thumbing out a credit card and ID.  

Yuuri completes his registration in silence, and Victor has the decency to also pull out his phone and pretend to look at something instead of continue conversation.  Yuuri hates how much he can’t hate Victor, couldn’t dislike him if he tried.  

“And I just need to take your photo,” he says, tapping a small camera on top of his computer that Victor smiles into so radiantly that Yuuri is sure he nearly breaks it.  Even after Victor moves on, fully intending to work out at ass o’clock, Yuuri keeps his picture up and tries to untangle all of the stupid things that Victor’s poorly-lit, pixelated smile makes him feel for twenty minutes.

When Victor comes back around the counter to leave, it’s almost four.  He hasn’t showered.  Instead his musk wafts out like an invitation, his jacket now off and shirt stuck to his skin suggestively, the smell of spruce and basalt from the sauna pronouncing the Come Fuck Me salty sweat that’s glistening down the back of his neck.  

“Yuuri,” he says, and he slicks his bangs back like he’s nervous and vulnerable somehow, and God, Yuuri aches just staring at him.  He leans into the counter and stares at the door.  “Would you please go out with me?”

Yuuri, despite himself, nods dumbly.  

“Okay,” he says.

Victor fucking beams.

The summer is long and weird and begins with a date with Victor Nikiforov.

The date is him and Victor against an entire first-grader’s birthday party at laser tag, and it is wonderful.  Victor is exactly the kind of person that Yuuri would want to share a foxhole with; gorgeous, hilarious, and willing to do some pretty acrobatic shoulder rolls through smoke and styrofoam tubing to shoot some six and seven-year-olds with a laser pistol to ensure a high score.  

“My hero,” Yuuri says, laughing and nearly losing himself to the heat of Victor’s shallow breaths under the ultraviolet, neon glow, before ultimately sacrificing himself to a squad of children, so Victor can safely make it to the bonus target near their base.  

Victor kisses him on the temple as they announce the new high score, belonging to Yuuri Katsuki.  

“I love how you surprise me,” he says, even though Yuuri is also surprised but more confused than anything else.  “Do you want to go eat some terrible pizza?”

“Please,” Yuuri says.  He tries to ignore the heat of his pulse that melts down his spine.  

The eat terrible pizza with cardboard crust and too-sweet marinara sauce.  Victor’s toes touch Yuuri’s through their sneakers on the 90’s rainbow squiggle carpet.  It isn’t like so many routine courting dates where an alpha takes an omega for an expensive dinner or shopping, lavishing them in expensive decadence.  Victor does not press chocolate ganache filled truffles to his lips, does not present him with an engraved watch or a small, silver lock to wear around his neck that would match a leather-bound key around Victor’s.  It’s charming.  Victor is charming.  

“Do you always, uh--” Yuuri doesn’t know how to ask the question he wants to ask.  How do you normally wine and dine your omegas?  Have there been omegas before that Victor has taken out for lobster tail, dressed up in smart suits and then fucked them out of?  Has Victor ever pressed his mouth hot and wet and ready against an omega’s bonding gland?  Has he shared a heat with someone?  

“Always?” Victor asks, smiling.  He’s got grease on his chin and his hair is a disaster from rolling around on the ground.  He looks beautiful.  

“Is this how you always treat an omega you’re trying to court?”

Victor’s face falls.  “I thought we were having fun.”

“We are,” Yuuri insists.  “I am.  I just.  You’re really good at this.”

“Laser tag?” Victor asks.  He had, suspiciously, used what looked like a member card when buying their rounds.  

“No, dating!  Courting,” Yuuri says.  “I didn’t think I would like this so much.  But this is fun and you’re fun.”

“Did you not want to have fun?” Victor asks, absently dabbing at his chin with a napkin, eyes wide.

“No!” Yuuri says.  “I didn’t.  Because then I could go home and say I tried but it wasn’t for me, dating and courting and being--being someone’s kept thing.”

“I don’t want to keep anyone that doesn’t want to be kept,” Victor says.  “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to--”

“I do want to,” Yuuri says, so, so frustrated.  

“You’re giving me mixed messages, Yuuri,” Victor says softly.  “Do you not want to date?  Or be courted?”

“I didn’t,” Yuuri replies.  

“Oh,” says Victor.  He sounds disappointed, a kind of hitch in his voice like running a finger round a crystal glass with a chip in its mouth.  

“But I really like you,” Yuuri says.  “And now I’m just worried--God, this sounds stupid--do you like me?  Or is this just because I’m a free omega?”

“Are you serious,” Victor replies.  It’s not a question.  “Yuuri.”

“What?”

“I’ve been waiting for you since Freshman year,” Victor says.  He reaches across the table and puts a tentative hand around Yuuri’s, fingers curled together, thumb finding the soft pad of Yuuri’s palm.  Yuuri doesn’t pull away.  

“What?” He’s still startled.  “Wait-- you knew?”

“It was hard to miss,” Victor says.  His nails are manicured, Yuuri notices, or at least cleanly clipped.  Yuuri bites his own nails, has dead skin that runs down to meet all the calluses on his hands from rowing.  “That night when we went back to your dorm room I saw your patch.”

“What!” Yuuri says, a little too loud.  A few parents supervising the birthday party three tables over look on suspiciously.  “We did-- what?”

“You fell asleep,” Victor says.  “So I left before, uh.  Well.  I left my number.”

“A lot of people left their numbers on my door,” Yuuri replies, and Victor freezes.  “No!  No, not like that, just as a joke.  Things like ‘call me,’ invitations to go spend a heat with someone in the third floor heat rooms.”

“I don’t think those were jokes,” Victor says.

Yuuri looks at him questionably, cheek sucked in between his teeth with frustration.  “I don’t know what else they would be.”

“People wanting to date you!  People like me,” Victor says.  “We kissed at the halloween crew party!  When you passed out and didn’t call, I just figured you wanted to focus on things that weren’t courting, but I figured when you did announce your status, you would, we would, I don’t know.  Go steady.”

“We kissed at the halloween party?” Yuuri repeats, as if scandalized.  Three more parents from the party have started listening in, not even bothering to look away.

“Yeah,” Victor says.  For the first time in Yuuri’s entire life, Victor Nikiforov seems visibly deflated.   

“But you haven’t talked to me since,” Yuuri says.  “Until recently.”

“Space!”  Victor says again.  “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“What, spook me like some, some timid omega?”  Yuuri asks.  Victor’s hands are softer than his own.  He holds onto Victor like a lifeline, searches for his pulse to calm himself down.

“Maybe,” Victor says, sighs. “I don’t know.  I don’t really know you.  But I want to.  I’ve wanted to know you for a very long time.”

“Oh,” Yuuri replies.  He squeezes, lets his toe tap against Victor’s again under the table.  Something feels like it’s wriggled loose in his chest, finally.  “Well, I’d like to know you too.”

[the-colony-roleplay]

SOME WORDS ABOUT STUFF: AKA EVENT AND PLOT-Y THINGS :) 

Hey kiddlies!

So I meant to post this a couple days ago but shit got in the wayyyyy, sorry!

Anyway, I just wanted to address a few reminders about the upcoming event and the current state of things in the plot! Since we have a number of newer people now, and Lottie and I want to make sure everyone’s feeling as involved as possible! 

So even though there are a couple of characters who are directly involved in the plot in terms of the party, the event itself and the overall plot in verse affects everyone, and we encourage people to feel comfortable getting involved! 

So, in terms of the information that’s out there so far concerning the event—though it’s vague and still minimal, it would likely be causing a lot of talk and mutterings—for instance, who planned it? Why are the NWRF letting is slide? How does your character feel about it? Do they think it will be safe, or dangerous, or just the kind of fun the Colony needs? Do they plan on attending? Have their friends bullied them into finding a costume? How do they feel about Halloween? Are they curious to find out more about who’s organizing it? 

For these events we encourage everyone to, not only participate, but contribute, if they so wish. We like our members to feel they have say and influence in the rp, as this is a community for all of us! So if you have ideas you want to explore for your character in relation to the plot, don’t be afraid to message us about it and run it by us if you need further guidance! 

Also, keep in mind, that plots don’t magically drop into our laps—please don’t be afraid to reach out to your fellow muns and open up a dialogue about plot possibilities. You don’t even have to over-plan if that isn’t your style! (I know it’s not mine!) But think of how the plot drop may affect your character, and reach out to other characters and muns to try to get some threads going! With the event less than a week away, this is a vital opportunity to start threads that /relate/ to the event! So like i mentioned before, is your chara attending, if so, are they dressing up, if so, as what? Are they suspicious of the party? Excited? Unimpressed? Think about it, and get some threads going so you have more foundation to move forward into the event itself!

None of these things are necessary per se, but they are encouraged, and basically, we just want to remind members, new and old, that we are here to support plot ideas and development! So connect with people you haven’t yet, send some muns some messages! Put your best foot forward and reach out because I guarantee no matter who you message, they will be excited to hear from you! We want everyone to feel included and a part of the environment as thoroughly as possible, but we all have to give a little in order for that to be a possibility!

Also, I’d just like to note that this isn’t a post designed to correct anything that’s wrong—quite the opposite, actually! We’re seeing tons of plotting and participating and we’re thrilled by it! But we also just want to do our part in making sure that our newer members who are still getting their characters established, feel supported and a part of the activity! We know sometimes it can be hard to get plots going and the ball rolling, and so let us know if you need anything, or have any questions! 

Finally, I would just like to remind people of a couple of things: 

tumblr is glitchy: this really isn’t a surprise. ESPECIALLY the phone app, at the moment. So if you have not heard back from someone via ask or instant message, please don’t assume that they are intentionally ignoring you. We’ve had a lot of dropped messages lately, and considering how well we know everyone here, there isn’t a soul on this team who would be that inconsiderate, because that’s not what we’re about. So it’s MUCH more likely that they either just didn’t get the message, or were not been terribly active at the time you sent it and then wound up losing the message or forgetting to reply, etc. Please just reach out again and touch base —you’d be surprised how many times people who you may think are not replying to you, actually thought you didn’t reply to them and they just... didn’t want to harass. We’re all a bunch of overly polite, nervous sacks around here. So yeah. lol. 

the activity notices are NOT acceptable ways to track threads: So, this also shouldn’t be news to anyone who’s been on tumblr for a while. The activity tracker has always been shitty, and unreliable as hell. Please do not rely on this to keep track of your threads. Use it when you can, but be sure to check on threads other ways—manually, or with a list you save in your drafts, whatever you want. But at this point it’s unreasonable to rely on activity tracker and assume that’ll do the job because it won’t, and you’ll end up losing threads and people will end up thinking you’ve dropped their chats without talking to them or letting them know, which is rude and annoying and only cliquey rps do that. So just be aware of your threads and do your best! Because honestly? It’s happens to EVERYONE. I lose threads all the time! The best you can do is just keep an eye on what threads you have, and take the time to think about which you had going, and then check those blogs or your blog tag to see who’s turn it was. And if you did miss it, no big deal! Just message the mun and let them know it was an accident, and you want to continue, or you want to drop, if it’s been too long, etc. Communication is key, my friends!

Those are just a few helpful hints/reminders because I know tumblr has been giving us grief lately—so keep in mind that I know these members very well by now, and there’s no one who would ignore you or drop chats intentionally. So if you’re concerned, just reach out and communicate! We’re all family here! Don’t let the stuff getting lost in translation get ya down :) 

Okay, that’s all from me, folks! Sorry I wasn’t more eloquent tonight, I’m feeling very scattered but I had to get this note out!

Love ya’ll!

Papa!Mod