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lilrathands · 1 year

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Ministry Days: Oui, Chef!

Genre: Pure fluff, comfort, kitchenalia, some foreshadowing of future events, an attempt at comedy was made.

Rating: The swears, simulated wanking

WC: 2438 (I have no idea how this happened)

Warnings: A little sappy, threats of violence, light Chapter 16 spoilers. Copia suffering, no door, too many tax receipts, Seestor being a big meanie.

A/N: All HCs are my own damn fault, or taken from various bits of the Chapters, interviews, Tender Father’s ramblings. Also may have been absorbed by osmosis and exposure to the fandom. You are welcome to use them.

The kitchen was Mountain's happy place. The rhythm, sounds and organised chaos was very much like being on stage, his steady heartbeat moving things along, suffusing each dish with a bit of that ethereal ghoul magic. He could be found here most evenings, amongst the polished copper pots, his head deftly bobbing between the battery of cooking implements hanging from wrought iron racks.

There had been a few teething problems involving chipped horns and swollen lumps that had to be soothed by Aether. Even though Aeth had tisked and chided Mountain each time, he was tickled by his new found love for cooking.

The road to hell, in fact, was paved with dinners. Some lavish to the point of obscenity (particularly if the ministry was hosting high-ranking clergy from abroad), some as simple as a bowl of warming soup and dark bread fresh from the ovens. It would of course be slathered with butter made from the milk of Primo's prized dairy cows who doubled as the resident lawn trimmers. Every ghoul was threatened under penalty of death - fuck with the cows and find out at your peril. As such, the ministry kitchens were equipped to feed a small (unholy) army.

The ghouls, however, kept stranger hours- often more active at night and sleeping after dawn crept its fingers over the spires of the ministry chapel. Once the kitchen had cleared of the daytime staff, it was Mountain's preferred spot. A fire would be lit in the hearth again, kicking up embers to light new tinder and carefully stacked logs. Then there was the large bay window that had become home to a variety of potted herbs and trailing ivy - all courtesy of him. The day staff had delighted in the addition, never needing to venture outside in the bitter chill of winter in Lincopia to harvest herbs from the ministry greenhouse.

The one exception to this was Sundays. Papa insisted that he make the ghouls a communal dinner, from scratch, all by himself (unless Dewdrop decided to force his involvement on the former cardinal). Papa had a paternal streak a mile wide, and loved tinkering with old recipes until they were just right for his little band of hellspawn. Dinner on Sundays was usually late, even by ghoul standards.

Oddly, Dewdrop was an occasionally curious kitchen hand, very adamant that he be shown things step-by-step and in great detail. Whenever Mountain would gently inquire, why exactly Dew was so keen, he would be admonished with a sullen stare that hinted at acts of future violence.

On this particular night an English roast dinner had been requested, with Aether claiming he had developed an affinity for them after spending some time in Britian in an earlier century. Under a different, unnamed master.

He had conjured up visions of tables laden with joints of roasted meat, stuffings, potatoes roasted with drippings or lard, vegetables glazed or creamed into submission, sauces aplenty and those strange little puffs of air called 'Yorkshire puddings'.

Mountain had practically galloped to the library - Dew madly scrambling to keep up with him. The library had a considerable collection of antique cook books and treatises on the culinary arts. The siblings of sin had helped him find a volume titled 'Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management', from around the time Aeth said he had been in service.

The book was bound in red linen, with gilt lettering and counted among its charms a stained title page, several pages of the 'Cakes' section glued together by Satan-knows-what and, curiously, an entire chapter on 'Carving at the Table' had been unceremoniously ripped out.

Walking back into the kitchen Mountain set the book on the long wooden trestle table that graced one side of the main kitchen and sat on the well-scrubbed bench seat.

"Well, looks like we're a little fucked on the pomp and ceremony bit but at least we can scrape together some of the easier recipes."

Dew stood behind him, peering over his shoulder, making a range of faces that covered everything from abject disgust to confusion and back to dry wretching.

"It's all so fucking BROWN! How could Aeth even stomach this stuff much less want to eat it again?" Dew hissed through gritted teeth.

Mountain knew that Dew also had questionable taste in food, once having caught him eating spoonfuls of dry spices, but decided to keep that thought to himself. Dew had nearly choked to death in a puff of cinnamon when Mountain had opened the pantry door looking for the fancy fleur de sel Terzo had brought up from France.

"Well, they say that brown equals flavour, buddy. Millions of people can't be wrong, well I mean they can, but let's just go with the former. Alright, let's gather everything we need up, I'll head to the root cellar, can you crank the ovens? Let's do roast pork with crackling, glazed root vegetables, crispy roast potatoes, apple and onion gravy, horseradish cream and maybe some of those yorkshire pudding things?"

"Oui, chef!" Dew practically yelled, puffing his chest out and standing as tall as he could (he was still very small, but the effort was what counted).

Mountain gave an awkward thumbs-up, wondering what the fuck had gotten into him lately? Everyone knew he was a raging perfectionist that mastered every task he was given, but this was just extreme.

There was a door adjacent to the pantry that led down into the root cellar, Mountain practically doubling over to avoid concussion as he descended the narrow stairs. The ministry had long sat unused until the 1930s, and was a former abbey dating back to the 1400s with an extensive network of catacombs, underground chambers and cellars. This was just one storage cellar, the ministry being dotted with them, some still sealed and unused.

The cellar room itself was large enough for Mountain to stand up in, with a small, vaulted ceiling from which hung braids of garlic, onions, dried peppers and woody herbs. The door was always tightly sealed to keep Copia's rats from infiltrating the stores.

Mountain collected his root vegetables (wintered carrots, parsnips and yellow turnips) from wooden boxes and grabbed a large burlap sack of potatoes, still dirty with sandy soil. He relished the smell of soil in winter, even if it was long dry and devoid of the rich aroma of life and death that all healthy earth has. A braid of garlic, a few stray apples (these would need replenishing from the larger store cellars) and six onions were added to his basket.

Upstairs, Dew had collected a pair of ancient roasting tins that would hold two racks of pork, which he was salting and oiling. Mountain tipped his basket out onto the table and brought the onions and apples to Dew.

"Alright, slice these thinly and make a bed for the pork after you put down a little oil. Toss a few sprigs of rosemary underneath the pork as well."

Dew relished the knifework, his fingers flying adeptly just as they did on-stage. Soon sounds of sniffling and cursing could be heard from his corner of the kitchen.

"Mounty, can you pass me some paper towel? Please?"

Mountain dutifully ripped off a few sheets and handed them to Dew. Tears were streaming from his eyes, and they had gotten incredibly red, much more than any human Mountain had seen chop onions.

"Buddy, are you ok? You don't look so great..."

Wordlessly, Dew picked up the knife and pointed it at Mountain's chest.

"I...am...fine...I'm...not...crying. If you tell the others, I will end you."

Dew slowly turned to face his stinky nemesis again, his knife now pointing down at the alliums.

"I am the lord and master of these onions and will prevail. SUBMIT TO ME, YOUR ONION LORD!" Dew exclaimed as he began furiously slicing the onions again.

Mountain stiffly turned back to his own cutting board while questioning the choice of giving Dew access to a large, sharp knife. Maybe he should just give him the vegetable peeler next time...

Soon there were neat piles of chopped veg, minced herbs and bowls of coarse salt and freshly ground pepper in front of Mountain. A large tray lined with baking paper stood ready, as he tipped and mixed everything together. A final flourish of honey from the pantry was drizzled over everything.

Dew had indeed conquered the onions, and the pork was sizzling in one of the large, furnace-like ovens. Little sparks of fire magic were floating around him like orange fireflies, and Mountain could tell that Dew was manipulating the fire, willing the ancient oven to get hot enough to properly cook the crackling roast.

"Thanks buddy, you're doing a great job there."

Mountain gingerly patted him on his shoulder, to which Dew blushed and fumbled a "Thanks, chef."

While the roast was cooking, the pudding batter was assembled, the horseradish grated and gently folded into cream with a little vinegar, salt and pepper (more tears from Dew, Mountain wordlessley handing over paper towels).

It was time for the potatoes to be tipped into hot fat, and the tray of vegetables to be placed into the now less-furnacey oven. Dew had opened the oven and with his golden crown of hair blowing around him, had drawn the heat into himself, then promptly run outside and exhaled vast quantities of steam. Mountain marvelled at how strong his magic could be when he was focused and calm, something he noticed was happening more often these days.

Returning to work, they scrubbed the boards, knives, bowls and utensils, and set the table for Papa and the ghouls. They had a little time to have a cup of tea and biscuits, as the meat had to rest before carving. The siblings of sin always kept a tin of biscuits around for the ghouls, as it was an easy way to barter with them - they had become fond of earthly delights.

Mountain loved the little heart-shaped linzer cookies filled with jam, while Dew enjoyed the dark chocolate shortbreads dotted with orange zest and redolent with spice. They missed them while on tour, and would often request that the kitchen send along a tin or two to fix any cases of homesickness.

The smell of dinner had clearly wafted through the abbey as Aether poked his head through the huge wooden double-doors of the kitchen.

"Almost dinner time, lads? Want me to fetch the others?"

"Yes, and make sure to get Papa as well, I don't care if you have to tear him away from his bloody tax returns, Sister can get fucked for once. Every time I walk past his room he's either playing video games and eating Pocket Coffees from a giant bowl or wringing his hands over a pile of paper and swearing in Italian." Mountain's brow creased in worry - Copia needed a solid meal and some companionship, this work schedule was killing him...

It was time to pour the batter for the puddings into their screaming-hot moulds. Mountain carefully distributed the liquid and then immediately shoved them in the oven to bake.

Dew was already moving the vegetables onto large platters, and pouring the gravy into the Ministry's bizarre collection of animal-shaped gravy boats. His personal favourite was the puking cat.

Mountain was left to carve the pork, quietly working the slices from the rack, the crackling sublimely crisp and shattering. He heard the scrape of a chair behind him and suddenly felt a hat being negotiated over his horns.

"Gotta look the part, hey chef?" Dew proclaimed, as he slid the chair back and stood beside him, wearing a floppy, old-fashioned chef's toque like some bizarre character from an 80s children's show. It was fucking adorable.

"Absolutely bud, only the height of professionalism around here."

The other ghouls began drifting through the doors, excitedly chatting and sniffing the air. The girls coo'd over Dew's hat while also trying to dip their fingers in the gravy boat as he fended them off with a slotted spoon.

Aether and Papa were last, with Aether holding Papa up with an arm while he shuffled in, still wearing his little rat slippers and looking positively dreadful.

"Amici miei....my beautiful children, you are a sight for sore eyes. Sister, she is relentless, she has removed my door! I can't even, you know, ehhh..." he made sad, unenthusiastic wanking motions with his hand.

Suddenly, Copia closed his eyes as his nose began to twitch. He inhaled deeply, a flush of colour returning to his cheeks.

"Quell'aroma meraviglioso...Mountain, Dewdrop, you have outdone yourselves...my mama, she could have never..." Aether sat Papa down at the head of the table, gently tucking a napkin into his burgundy hoodie and pouring him a small glass of wine.

Dew held up his own wineglass, tapping it with his gigantic slotted spoon.

"The chef would like to say a few words..." he announced, chest puffed out again and wiggling an eyebrow at Mountain.

"Uh yeah, Aeth requested this one, so, uh, enjoy this surprisingly delicious brown food."

Everyone clapped, while Mountain's hat slid forward as he bowed. Suddenly, he bolted upright -"Fuck, the puddings!"

Without a hint of hesitation Dew jumped up and ran to the oven, pulling the pan of crispy puffs out with his bare hands. "Got 'em! Nice and golden, sneaky little fuckers."

"CAZZO! Put the fucking pan down, you're going to have terrible blisters, mamma mia!" Papa yelled while clasping his hands over his face, elicting a gasp from the other ghouls.

"Nah, I usually wear oven mitts just so the siblings don't lose their tiny minds when they realise I'm unburnable. Don't want to give them the brain scramblies, ya know?"

The ghouls uttered a collective sigh, of course a pan wasn't going to burn him. They all suddenly felt a little foolish, like they'd been living amongst humans a bit too long.

Swiss, however, looked contemplative, while shoving a hot yorkshire pud in his mouth he began, "The brain scramblies are bad news, like that time Rain dove into the lake and didn't come up for 20 minutes in front of the novices..."

Soon enough, laughter echoed through the hall. Mountain was content, his family was here enjoying the fruits of his labours, while their collective magics mingled in the warm air. Dew offered up a crinkly-eyed smile in his direction, which he returned with a nod and subtle grin.

They would all sleep well, with full bellies and comfortable dreams of warm hearths, surrounded by good friends.

#ghost band fanfic #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #cardinal copia #papa iv #sodo ghoul #ghost band headcanons #ghoul headcanons

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keyboardsmashdmhtmdcmdcdm · 1 year

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Rant about Morgana Part 2

I ran out of room. I wanted to talk about Morgana treatment of people from magic accepting culture and societies as well as other magic users. I forgot what I was going to say so I hope this makes sense. Morgana does not seem to respect magic or other magic users very much. She condemns magic users that are her allies to loosing their magic in canon as well as attacking one of the apparently few cities where magic is legal as well as never really fighting for magic as she presents herself as. I see Morgouse as the one out of the two of them actually fighting for magic because as seen in canon and deleted scenes she wants freedom and love as well as respects magic. I also have a hard time seeing Morgana as a true high priestess. Let me explain before you get mad please. High priestesses are trained from birth and are so elite that many do not make it through the training and become bendrui. Morgana was gone for one year with her sister who loves her so much she may be blinded by love and will give her anything, while I do believe she went through every process and is in every legal or religious term a high priestess I do not think she has anywhere near enough training or knowledge to be one. Though she still has more knowledge and training than Merlin and the show is from his perspective so she would truly seem like a high priestess to the audience, but maybe not to any other priestesses if there were any others. On that subject Merlin had no teacher and taught himself though he had a lot of instinctual knowledge (he knew things like the dragon language on his own as well as can just use powerful magic) he was completely removed from most magical communities as well as any possible culture as a dragonlord. Though it does explain the lack of magic knowledge of creatures, culture and spells until it is onscreen and explained. As well as his family sending him into the heart of Camelot. Though in their defense it is shown that Camelot is not even the most dangerous kingdom for a magic user to be with places like Sarrum's kingdom still a horrible idea. (Though i have some story ideas that can explain it.) Another thing I wanted to talk about was Morganas necklace. Why does she a high priestess have a druid symbol necklace, is it to make her more appealing to them or is it to prove to the impressionable ones that she is on there side or does she just believe it is a symbol of magic because as far as I remember high priestesses have there own symbol the tree like the one they made the staff from on the isle of the blessed. Though please correct me if I am wrong but I think trees may also be sacred to druids and possibly other magic users so she may be comparing it like they are not so different. Morgana also has no problem attacking the city of Helva to kill at least one person though I wonder if she left any survivors, because Alator said Merlin had a army and if there were survivors they may still be alive. Also I think people forget that Morgana is a rich white woman that has a seemingly endless supply of expensive dresses and jewelry when she probably knew the taxes were hard to live with in Camelot and before she has magic is one of the most privileged characters and then is a high priestess so she then has a very high status in the magic community. She is not afraid to weaponize this against Gwen and Merlin as well as many unnamed characters. To her justice for magic is just the cover to her ambition and vengeance. She is like someone who says she fights for more widespread knowledge of medicine then you find out that she is a anti-vaxer who respond to people pointing this out by saying something like my culture is not you costume or one of the women who claim feminism is a disease and women should spend all their time in the kitchen while they have a huge social media platform they are always on and don't acknowledge that if they spent all their time cooking and cleaning they would not have time for social media and most likely said "fragile women" would not be aloud near the internet. Sorry bit extreme.

#bbc merlin #morgana pendragon #(screams)

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butwhyduh · 2 years

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The Watchtower Office

Bruce Wayne/Batman : Jordan you’re going to have to stay late again. You misfiled your case from this week. If it’s not properly filed, it can’t properly be compensated by the government.

Hal: what? No it’s Friday!

Bruce: file it correctly next time. Also Monday we’re having a safety drill at 7 am sharp

Hal: for what?

Bruce: Uhh *checks clipboard* tornadoes *walks off*

Hal: why? We literally have a member who’s powers are tornadoes!

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Barry: I hate staff meetings. That’s why I always volunteer to clean the office kitchen to avoid them. But sometimes, I wonder if I need hazard pay. Some of this stuff is literally glowing and if I didn’t have super speed, J’Onn’s lunch would have actually exploded in my face. It might be radioactive. The fridge is haunted.

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Clark: and that’s why I can’t miss Haybale day in Smallville. It’s a Kent family tradition. It’s also when we propagate turnips.

Bruce: *sigh* how many holidays can smallville have?

Clark: 43. Not counting loamy soil week.

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Diana: I finally left Bruce take me on a date. He solved 3 murders.

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Bruce: I went on a mission with Diana. She’s very affectionate to teammates. I’ll add that to her file. But the mission was a success and we closed 3 cases in one evening.

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Kyle Rayner/ Green Lantern: I caught Aquaman eating salt straight from the shaker at 3 am. He then went for jog. Is that an Atlantean thing?

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Clark: Bruce talks about professionalism but yesterday he flipped me off under his cape so…

Clark: actually I just realized that was one of his kids.

Clark: under the cape….

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Oliver Queen/ Green Arrow: I’m in love with Dinah but how do I even ask her out?

Hal: just do it. Go out with me?

Oliver: *very loud across the office* DINAH, GO OUT WITH ME?

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Diana: I would never tell Bruce but he got the flu once and Nightwing took over for a whole week and honestly it was nice. We did mani-pedis after missions.

———————

J’Onn J’Onns/ Martian Manhunter: I think I understand the human mating patterns. The 4th season of 90 day fiancé is quite enlightening.

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Bring your kid to work day

Tim Drake/Robin: I’ve come to a hypothesis. I am in love with Superboy. But not Superman. Thus, I must be attracted to his Lex Luthor genes

(At same time)

Superman: hu

Batman: no

Kon Kent/Superboy: can we circle back to the love thing?

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Another bring your kid to work day

Damian Wayne/ Robin: I have studied the patterns of Superman and Batman and have come to a conclusion that there is a sexual attraction between bat people and kryptonians. As you can see in this chart. Bruce and Clark, Jason and Kara, Tim and Kon, and…

Jon Kent/ Superboy: I will pay you to keep speaking

Bruce: I deny those allegations

Damian: denied. Too much substantiative proof

Hal: I thought this meeting was on safety

Barry: agreed. But now I’m invested and want to see how it turns out.

Hal: same

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Jason Todd/Red Hood/Former Robin: as you can see in this chart, villains use swear words at a much higher percentage than heroes. In conclusion, I must be a villain.

Bruce: and that’s the last presentation for bring your kid to work day. Thank you

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Unnamed justice league personnel: *bored tone* this is a sexual harassment seminar to educate you on types and prevention. Sexual harassment stops with your help.

Clark: this feels pretty targeted

J’Onn: I agree. I don’t even desire humans.

Bruce: you both can look through peoples clothes and I don’t like it

Clark: it was an x Ray of your ribs!

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felassan · 4 years

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Mass Effect development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

This is the Mass Effect version of this post.

[In case you can’t read it the subtitle in the bottom left logo above is “Guardians of the Citadel”]

Note: Drug use is mentioned.

Cut for length.

Mass Effect 1

ME began its life in a vision document in fall 2003

Codenamed “SFX”

Conceived of by Casey Hudson and a core team from KotOR. Its genesis was the intention to create an epic sci-fi RPG in an original setting that BioWare owned (so they could have full creative control), and in a setting that was conceived of first and foremost as a video game

Initially players could control any squadmate, but they wanted it to be about Shep and for players to be focused on Shep being a battlefield commander, rather than on switching bodies

By the start of 2004 its story was shaping up. Initially humans landed on Mars in 2250 and discovered evidence of an ancient alien race and a powerful substance, Black Sand, which rapidly advanced tech to the point that FTL travel was possible. (My note: obviously now the Prothean artifacts on Mars & associated mass effect force tech enabled this in the final canon, but I wonder if aspects of the ‘Black Sand’ naming-type & powerful substance stuff was rolled into red sand from final canon) Humans were suddenly capable of travel to multiple star systems and made contact with a multitude of other species. At the start of the first game, these species together with humans had a fragile peace, with focus placed on the political center of the galaxy, a hub known as Star City, later renamed the Citadel

Multiplayer was a vision for the series as far back as 2003. The plan was for ME1, an Xbox exclusive at launch, to take advantage of the platform’s online components. Early designs saw players meeting in one of the central hubs to interact and trade items in their otherwise SP adventures

By 2006 it had the name ME and the story was more specific, with the theme of conflict between organic and synthetic lifeforms. The story’s scope now stretched across 3 games and included scope for full co-op MP

They tried to do MP in every game, discussing it from the get-go, but it always just fell by the wayside. “When you’re trying to build something that is a new IP, on a new platform, with a new engine, you’ve got to really focus on the core elements of the game.”

The conversation system prototype was made in Jade Empire, and some of ME’s earliest writing was done in an old JE build. At first there was no conversation wheel. Paragon was “Friendly” and Renegade “Hostile”. In the prototype Shep was a silent unnamed Spectre. Many conversations in the prototype about the player’s choice in smuggling a weapon through Noveria made it into the game

In said prototype a merchant referred to themselves as “this one”, though the word hanar never appeared. The PC in it also had the option to end a conversation with “I should go”. In the prototype also, Harkin was voiced by Mark Meer

An early version of the Mako got used as the krogan truck in ME2

Early concepts of the Citadel were drawn in pencil by CH. A piece of concept art of its final design was painted based on a photo of a sculpture near Aswan, Egypt

As with any new IP naming it was a struggle. They put out a call to all staff for ideas, did polls, made a name generator that combined words that they liked in random ways and made pretend logos of ones they liked in Photoshop to see if they could make themselves love the name or find visual potential in it. (Some of these names are in the pic at the top of this post.) CH liked “Unearthed” as it was a reference to Prothean ruins dug up on Mars and humanity’s ascendance going away from Earth. They knew the game would have a central space station featuring prominently so some of the ideas were based on that - “The Citadel”, “The Optigon”, “The Oculon”. “Element” was another one they had in mind due to the rare substance in the game

CH: “I was a big fan of John Harris’ book Mass, which had epic-scaled sci-fi ideas, so that was a word that came up often. Many of the names came from the idea that the IP featured a fifth fundamental physical force (in addition to the known four of gravitational, electromagnetic, strong nuclear and weak nuclear) so the word ‘effect’ came up pretty often.” Ultimately none of the ideas really felt right. One Monday morning they were going over the names and Greg Zeschuk said he had an idea on the weekend: “Mass Effect!” CH: “I said, ‘I don’t hate it’, which in the naming process is a high compliment. And it stuck!”

CH on Shep’s Prothean vision from the beacon: “It was hard to imagine how we would do this. CG was - and is - really expensive. Instead I wanted to try doing it through photography and video editing. So I went to a local grocery store and bought a few packages of the weirdest looking meat that I could find. Then I set up a little photoshoot in my basement, complete with some electronics parts and some red wine for juicyness.” He used these props to create a video sequence where the photos were rapidly cycled and blurred, along with production paintings, to create the scary vision an organic/machine experiment on the Protheans. These mashups were also used as inspiration for concept artists and level designers who were working on these themes

Tali used to be called Talsi

On the licensing side they often joke that they’re licensing N7 not “Mass Effect” due to N7′s popularity

There was a confidential internal guide to the IP in 2007 to help devs along and summarize/synthesize the vision etc. Some excerpts from it are shown in the book and this is the first time the public have ever seen them

Early versions of Asari had hair

Asari were designed as a nod to classic TV sci-fi (with human actors wearing obvious makeup and prosthetics to play aliens)

The turian design guideline was “we want them to be birds of prey”. They also wanted a range of alien types, some close to human like Asari, while others were to be a lot further away, like turians

BioWare patented the conversation wheel, which was a first for them. CH had been frustrated with reviews of Jade Empire that said that the actioncentric game was too wordy [with its list dialogue]. “I’m like, story is words. [...] What is it about our games that is making people feel like they’re wordy?” Then he thought “In a game you kind of need to feel like you’re continuing to play it. Maybe you should continue feeling like you’re playing it actively into the dialogue.” “[The wheel] kind of gave a new experience with dialogue when you did start to react based on emotion, and that’s ultimately what we’re trying to bring out in our games”

The original krogan concept was based on a bat “with a really wide squidgy face. We just used its face on top of this weird body and it kinda worked”

Geth musculature was based on fiber-optic cables, with flexible plates of armor attached

The vision for the IP was 80s sci-fi inspired space opera

The concept art of Saren lifting Shep by the throat inspired a similar scene in-game. The staging wasn’t planned til designers saw that art

A squadmate with Shepard on the way to meet Ash in an old storyboard was called Carter. Early name of Kaidan or Jenkins?

Bono from U2 was kinda instrumental in bringing us ME lol

Finding the right cover art for ME1 was notably tricky

Matt Rhodes got his start drawing helmets for ME1, including one which would become Shep’s “second face”. He estimates he drew between 250-270 different ones

Some of the sounds in-game were people smashing watermelons with sledgehammers and sticking fists into various goos

The audio team had fun trying to slip the iconic main theme into unexpected places throughout the MET. “We were very aware of how powerful that track was for the fans and it was tempting to overuse it for any moment we wanted to make really emotional”.

The theme was creatively repurposed in ME3: slowed down and reworked as the ambient sound for the SR-2. “If you listen to it for a really long time, just stand in the Normandy and listen, you’ll actually hear the notes change slowly. It doesn’t sound like music, it sounds like a background ambiance, but it’s there.” (My note: Well no wonder the Normandy feels so much like home?? 😭 sneaky..)

Bug report: “Mako Tornado”. There wasn’t enough friction between the tires and the ground, causing testers to lose control of the vehicle and send it spinning into the air like a tornado. “As it turns, the front end comes up, and then it starts spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning faster and faster and faster until it just flies up in the sky” (My note: Sounds like a regular day in the Mako to me)

Cerberus originally had a bigger role in this game. It was cut but they had a whole explorable outpost. “I called it Misery,” says Mac Walters, “It was this planet with a little outpost that said ‘Welcome to Misery’”. Everything on the outpost was shit - dirty worn stuff, no windows, no kitchen, the vehicle bay was open to the elements etc

The Reaper sound is literal garbage. Some audio designers went on a recording trip to a national park. One of them got fixated on a garbage can, “a metal bear-proof receptacle with a heavy lid that creaked horribly when opened”. “It was like, ominous, spooky, tonal and almost musical. I decided to throw a mic into the garbage and record it moving. I didn’t know what it was going to be until later”

They were making lots of noises to record like throwing logs and rocks around. An old couple peered at them through the window of their camper van in the woods and must have called the cops because then the cops showed up, pulled them over and told them to stop. The cops towed their car (the driver’s plates were Cali plates and expired), drove them to Edmonton outskirts and then the audio producer Shauna got a call and had to go pick them up “like three little boys”. “We got a stern talking to”. Once back they were playing around with the garbage sound, editing it etc. Casey heard it and proclaimed “That’s the sound of the Reapers”

Preston Watamaniuk: “There are things I could have done to Mass 1 to make it an infinitely better game with better UIs” and some simple cuts and changes. “But when you’re living with it, it’s very hard to see those things”

BioWare Labs

As social media and smartphone games exploded, BioWare dedicated a small team dedicated to exploring opportunities here - BioWare Labs

Mass Effect: Galaxy used a unique graphic art style and static visual presentation common in visual novels. It has the distinction of being the only iOS game BW have made during their first 25 years

Scrapped ideas were a 3rd person space shooter called Mass Effect: Corsair and 2 DA titles - a strategy game and a top-down dungeon crawler starring young Wynne. (My note: Maybe the corsairs stuff was rolled into Jacob’s backstory in 2, the Alliance Corsairs)

Corsair was a very short-lived project that never got its feet under it. It was a spin-off on Nintendo DS featuring a behind-the-ship perspective and branching dialogue. At one point it had MP. The idea behind it was basically “ME: Freelancer” - fly your ship around, do missions, get credits. It had a limited branching story but was a gameplay-centered experience intended to fill the gap between ME1 and 2. That gap ended up being filled by Galaxy

Galaxy and Corsair’s smaller screen allowed concept artists to use bold colors and a simplistic character design style to help those games stand out from Shep’s story

Nick Thornborrow did some art for Corsair but was worried his art style didn’t fit ME. He moved to DA where he feels his art style fits better

Lots of BioWare VAs and even a lead writer and the VO director are drawn from Edmonton’s local community theater scene, which is vibrant. Think this is how Mark Meer got involved

Mass Effect 2

Player choices carrying over was a first for BW

Dirty Dozen-inspired plot

Its plot is a web of conditionals (see Suicide Mission)

Was more of a shooter than anything BW had made since Shattered Steel

There was 2 camps on the team, those who wanted to push combat and systems forward and redefine the ME experience and those who wanted to make a true sequel, with the same gameplay and systems but a new story. Karin Weekes: “I think it ended up being a good push-pull. It felt like a pretty healthy creative conflict”

“ME2 was a game you could hold up to someone who argues that games aren’t a serious medium and go ‘Oh yeah, then why is Martin Sheen in this?’” Sheen was their first pick for TIM

The idea for TIM came from a mash-up of concepts CH had collected over the years. The name “Illusive” originally came from his pitch for naming DAO’s Eclipse engine, a word inspired by Obi-Wan’s line “It’s not about the mission, Master. It’s something... elsewhere. Elusive”. “I thought, what if we called our next engine 'Elusive', but used an ‘I’, and then it’s like ‘Illusion’. [...] I still really like the word with an ‘I’ and what it conjures”

When ME1 DLC was in production, CH had been watching a lot of CNN, specifically Anderson Cooper. “How is one guy travelling to all these places and never looking tired and always being able to speak with clarity?” CH says it seemed almost superhuman. “What if there was someone who is the absolute maximum of the things you would aspire to be, but also the worst of humanity?” Cooper, though not evil, became an inspiration for TIM down to the gray hair and piercing blue eyes

Inspiration for TIM’s behind-the-scenes role pulling political strings came from Jack Bauer’s brother Graem in 24. Graem “can call up the president and tell him what to do and hang up, because he’s so connected and so influential”. Sheen had played a president and his performance brought gravitas and wisdom to the role. He had quit smoking, but the character smokes. He didn’t want to fake it, but he also didn’t want to smoke, “so he actually asked for a cigarette” to hold so he could stop his words to take drags with natural cadence

Writing was still pushing to write and revise lines hours before VO started. A series of problems like injury and some writers leaving for other opportunities left it so that Karin, Lukas Kristjanson and editor Cookie Everman hand to land the story safely, with PW helping where they could. Lukas: “We took over the writing bug and task list, and I can’t stress enough how much [Karin and Cookie] did to get ME2 out the door. There’s no part of that thing we didn’t touch”. Karin: “That was the most dramatic 2 weeks of my life”

Initial fan reaction when they started promo-ing ME2 was very negative because people didn’t want to know about new chars like Jack and Mordin. “[fans were like] ‘Get them out of here. We want our characters from the first game’. But then when they played them, those became some of the most popular chars [of the series]”

Concept art of Thane has an idea annotation saying “Face can shapeshift?”

At one point when designing Thane concept artists sent multiple variations of him to the team asking them to vote on which was the most attractive

Most of the Normandy crew was written by lead level designer Dusty Everman. Lukas gave him advice in the evenings between bugs

BioWare Montreal made ME2 and 3 cinematics

CC for Shep was based on tools used by char designers to create in-game chars. Under the hood similar tools existed to create aliens

Aliens were much easier to animate than humans. When something is human it’s very difficult to make it look realistic and you can see all the mistakes and everything

Over the holiday period in 2007 CH worked out a diagram on a single piece of paper that would define the entire scope and structure of the game. The diagram is included in the book

Bug report: “I shot a krogan so hard that his textures fell off”. At one point shotgun blast damage was applied to each of the pellets fired, and shot enemies ended up with just the default checkerboard Unreal texture on them after their textures got blown off

Blasto was meant to be 1 step above an Easter egg but his fan popularity prompted them to bring him back in ME3

They rewrote chunks of Jack 2 days before she went to VO. She was the only one they could change because all the other NPCs were recorded. They redesigned her mission by juggling locked NPC lines and changing Shep’s reactions by rewriting text paraphrases to change the context of the already-recorded VO

Lukas snuck obscure nods ito ME2′s distress calls. In the general distress call for the Hugo Gernsback, there’s BW’s initial’s and Edmonton’s phone number backwards. In a fault in a beacon protocol there’s the initials and backward phone number from Tommy Tutone’s “Jenny”. In 2 other general distress calls there’s initials and numbers from Glenn Miller Orchestra’s “Pennsylvania 6-5000″ and initials and numbers from Geddy Lee and Rush’s “2112″ respectively

Mass Effect 3

“The end of an era marks the beginning of another”

ME3 “marked the end of Shep’s story”

Saying bye to Shep was as difficult for devs as it was for players

JHale’s final VO session included Anderson’s death and romanced Garrus’ goodbye. “We were in the session and we both just started crying”, Caroline says. “I couldn’t come on the line to give her notes because I was crying, and she was crying. And so there was just this minute-long pause of like, nothing, nothing, nothing - just silence through the airwaves. And then I came on and just told her that I was crying and she said ‘I’m crying!’” They talked about these anecdotes also here on the N7 Day reunion panel

The Microsoft Kinect voice support required devs to teach Kinect hundreds of commands in a variety of accents across multiple languages. The result was useful but made for some awkward moments. Numerous players accidentally said “geth” or “quarian” while making a particular decision and accidentally killed Tali

MP chars were voiced by cops and military people

The helmet on one of the MP chars was originally designed for cancelled project Revolver

The payload device at the end needed to attach to the Citadel while essentially serving as a giant trigger. “It ended up becoming quite the engineering feet just to visualize how this thing would move and connect to the Citadel”

Concept artists explored creating an anti-team, where Kai Leng was almost an anti-Shepard essentially, with an elite squad to counteract your team. This idea never went beyond concept phase

ME3 Special Edition was released on Nintendo Wii U exclusively. This exclusive version of the game includes Genesis 2 (a sequel to the original Genesis comic) and unique gameplay features that took advantage of the touchscreen GamePad. For years Sonic Chronicles: Dark Brotherhood had had the honor of being BW’s only game made for a Nintendo console

FemShep regrettably didn’t feature in major ME marketing til ME3. Later releases like DAI, MEA and Anthem have taken increasing care not to gender their protagonists in cover art

To capture combat sounds they took a trip to CFB Wainwright, a military base southeast of Edmonton. They got a big tour of it and were allowed to record anything they could find. The tour ended with them getting to drive and shoot tanks (real shells). The force of doing that sent waves through Joel Green, he felt his whole chest compress when it went off; the perfect sound for the Black Widow! After the trip the soldiers let him keep the shell he fired and it’s been passed on like a torch to various devs since

Kakliosaurs began life as a joke in the writers’ room after John Dombrow placed a Grunt figure on a t-rex toy he had on his desk. Lore was brainstormed to justify the mash-up before someone asked, “Why don’t we put this in the game?” They loved it so much Karin had custom coffee mugs made

Bug report: For a while Tali’s final romance scene would fire when she was supposed to be dead

“Balancing combat: how designers in ME3 entered an ‘arms race’” - the solution to players feeling OP vs players feeling frustrated by really strong enemies is to find a good middle ground, but for designers Corey Gaspur and Brenon Holmes, it was war. Brenon designed enemies, Corey designed guns. Corey “was obsessed with bigger, heavier guns. We had this sort of informal competition where he’d make this crazy overturned gun that would just murder all the enemies, and then I tuned some stuff up to compensate”

Brenon had to invent new ways to “stop Corey” and this led to the Phantoms. Corey had in turn designed consumable rockets that could wipe out entire waves of enemies. He must’ve figured this would make short work of Brenon’s space ninjas, but Brenon had other plans: “I had just added the ability for her to cut rockets [when Corey was playing MP and he was watching]. She cut the rocket in half... Corey just turns and looks at me and is like: ‘Really dude? I just shot a rocket at this Phantom and she’s fine? Not even damaged? Zero damage?’”

This friendly rivalry helped elevate ME3′s gameplay. Corey had a knack for making a gun feel so good to fire it had his fellow designers scrambling to keep up. It was his version of balancing. Before Corey sadly passed away he mentored Boldwin Li in all things weapon design and the arms race continued

Corey designed the Arc Pistol. It was causing problems for enemies because it was too powerful. It seemed hell bent on staying that way, Boldwin would tune down all its stats and it was still doing 3x the damage it should have been doing. “I was like ‘What the hell?’, and then I looked closer. It secretly fired 3 bullets for every pull of the trigger! Corey, you sneaky jerk”

The day it launched there were midnight launch parties across North America including one near the BW building. Numerous devs sat at long tables greeting fans and signing autographs as the fans picked up preorders. When midnight struck the line was long enough that it took several hours for some fans to get their game. One particular fan is remembered: “It was 3am. Some guy drove up from Calgary with his friends. He was like one of the last people in line. I think he was sort of tired-drunk. He threw himself across the tables, pulled up his shirt and shouted ‘Guys, sign my abs!’ And like I did, because he waited so long. It felt impolite not to. So I hope he enjoyed his copy of ME3″

For designing Protheans concept artists had free reign to design something that read as ancient

Before the concept art team had the story of the game to work toward, they explored wild ideas of their own including an image of the crew stealing back the Normandy to go after the Reapers

Jen Cheverie was testing scenes and was initially excited to be testing Mordin scenes, til she saw she was testing the Renegade version of his death. “This is even before like all of the audio and everything was in, so you didn’t even have the sad music. I remember sitting at my desk and my hands just went to my face when I saw that the gun Shep pulls on Mordin is the gun he gives Shep in ME2. I burst into tears and was crying for the rest of the day. People are waving to me as they walk by and I’m like, ‘It’s ok, I’m just killing my best friend’”

There’s a segment called “Shepard’s story ends”. Casey on the ending: “There’s a whole bunch of things that come together to make it incredibly tense and emotional for players. I think the biggest one was the sense of finality, that whatever it was that happened in that very last moment... was it.”

Wrapping up the story was a massive feat. In a way all of ME3 is an ending. Its final moments were the players’ last with a char they’d been with all the way from Eden Prime

“And while the critical reception of the game was extremely positive, many fans were unsatisfied with the ending, which became one of the most controversial in the history of games.” CH: “We were, on one hand, at the end of a marathon trying to finish the game and the series. But as devs we also knew that there would be more. We knew that we would continue to tell the story. In retrospect, we didn’t fully appreciate the tremendous sense of finality that it would have for people”. He envisioned an ending that posed new questions, something in the tradition of high sci-fi that left players dreaming about what that particular galaxy’s future could hold. “Frankly, there’s a lot more that we could have and should have done to honor the work players put in, to give them a stronger sense of reward and closure”

AAA games are massive undertakings with a million moving parts. Somehow they come together but even the best-planned projects don’t turn out quite like devs hope. From start to end video game production is a series of compromises. It’s rare if not impossible for devs to ship a game they’re entirely happy with. “I think that people imagine that when you finish a game, it’s exactly the way you wanted it to be. But whether people end up loving or hating the final result, we work hard to finish it the best we can, knowing that there’s a lot we would have wanted to do better. I think that’s true of any creative work”

As the dust settled after the initial reaction to the ending and later its epilogue, meant to show the wide-reaching ripple effects of Shep’s final choice, “players emerged mostly asking for one thing”. CH: “Now, most of what we hear, after both ME3 and MEA, is ‘Hey, just go make more Mass Effect’. And that to me is the most important thing. Knowing that players want to return to the ME universe is what inspires us to press on and imagine what comes next”

Mass Effect: Andromeda

By creating a new ME in a new galaxy the team was challenged to put their own visual stamp on the game while keeping it true to the franchise

Being the first ME game on a new gen of consoles meant for more detail

“Massive transport ships called arks populated with salarians, turians, humans, asari and quarians” made the risky jump to the Cluster

MEA was the first time BW had truly codeveloped across 3 studios: Edmonton, Montreal and Austin. The bulk of the work especially early on was done in Montreal, which was composed of a handful of Edmonton expats and heaps of experienced devs who joined from elsewhere specifically to bring a new ME experience to life. Series vets in Edmonton then came on to contribute writing, cinematics, design and QA, along with leadership from creative director Mac Walters and the core Production team. Austin writers and level designers also joined the fray

“It took a new team to take ME beyond the Milky Way”

Mac: “A lot of people in Montreal joined BW as fans of the franchise, so they just had this passion, and it felt like it was more like the days of Jade Empire, where a smaller younger team gets to do something for the first time. Even though it wasn’t necessarily a new IP for me, it felt fresh and new because of that. The team was just super excited to be working on it”

Early plans had the player exploring hundreds of worlds, procedurally generated, allowing for a nearly infinite variety of experiences. But as development wore on, it became clear that the game narrative required more specific, hand-touched level design on each world to keep the story focused and the experience engaging. “The plan was to give players numerous uncharted worlds to explore. Designers worked hard to come up with procedural elements that would make such planets special. Eventually the team made the difficult decision to abandon procedural planets in favor of more memorable hand-touched alien worlds, each with a specific story to tell”

One challenge was defining what ME meant without Shep. Care was given to include many of the MET’s key species. “Ryder recruited turian, asari, krogan and salarian followers”. Like Shep Ryder represents humanity’s hope for a peaceful coexistence among aliens who had long operated without human contact

Beginning with MEA the team decided that with few exceptions vehicles in ME have 6 wheels. Early Nomad concepts were bulkier. Later ones focused on its ability to move over its ability to protect itself from hostile fire, underlining the themes of exploration

German concept designer and auto-motive futurist Daniel Simon was contracted to create the Nomad and Tempest. The Tempest’s final design took inspo from the Concorde

Concepts for angaran fighter ships have the following notes: “Two doors swing open, wings rotate down to function as landing struts, the landing struts split open. It has a spinning turbine engine

Despite being set a galaxy away and some 600 years after Mordin’s death, there was a time when he had a cameo. It wasn’t cut due to running out of time however, it was cut due to drug references. John Dombrow explains: “One day I had to write a small quest for Kadara. I thought it’d be amusing if these 2 guys living way out on the fringes in a shack were growing plants for uh, medicinal purposes, and needed Ryder’s help with it. It occurred to me, wouldn’t it be amusing if Ryder had the option of actually trying ‘the medicine’ to see what would happen? And I thought, what if it turned into some hallucination that somehow involved SAM - like maybe SAM would sing? But why? How could I motivate that? Then it hit me. Who else in the ME game sings unexpectedly? MORDIN. As a nod to him I wrote SAM singing Modern Major-General. It got even better when our cine designer John Ebenger wanted to take it even further. Bless him, he came in on a Saturday to do a special hallucination showing Mordin himself. It was great. Til the fateful day we were told MEA had already been submitted to the ratings board. That’s when you declare things like drug references in your game. Mordin fell under that category which meant it was a no-go. We were too late”

Ryder’s white AI armor contrasts Shep’s iconic dark armor (intentional design)

Concept art for Ryder involved experiments with cloth (cloaks, ponchos, capes - “Pull here to release cloak”) and asymmetrical design elements

For alien design, there’s a few exceptions but humanoid figures are the ME standard and this persisted into MEA

Kett and angara concepts explored striking lines and textures

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

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dontshootmespence · 3 years

Text

Home Again

Summary: Spencer and Luke are happily married when the world goes to shit. In the chaos, they’re separated. After years, each one presumes the other dead. Until one day.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Word Count: 3,564

Warning: Zombie apocalypse shit. Character deaths.

A/N: This fulfills my apocalypse au square for @cmbingo.

Inside their mid-size apartment, Luke dances to his favorite music as he moves about the kitchen, getting dinner ready for when Spencer comes home. A medical researcher’s work was never really done, but in the years since they’d gotten married, Spencer made a commitment to be home by every night at 6PM unless they discussed otherwise.

Turning on the nightly news, Luke saw what looked like a pretty severe car accident on the road that Spencer normally took on the way home. He pulled out his phone and dialed, hoping to give his husband a head’s up about the driving conditions, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, Spence, it’s me. I mean, of course it’s me,” he laughed. “But anyway, I’m working on dinner now and I just saw the news. There’s a big accident on I-275 so you might want to take another way home if you can. I’ll see you in a little bit. Love you.”

As Luke slipped the chicken into the pot, he heard what sounded like another car wreck and ran to the window, sticking his head out to see a car on its side and one man running clumsily after another. A knock at the door distracted him from the damage on the street below.

“Luke, it’s Steven. Open up.”

Steven was their neighbor and a college student. They rarely ever spoke. “Steven, what’s wrong?”

“There’s something wrong, man. People are going crazy out there. They’re attacking each other and...and eating each other. It’s like there are...”

Luke couldn’t help but laugh. “Do not say zombies. There’s no such thing, kid.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Steven insisted. “Something is happening. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pack up some essentials and get moving. Apparently, it started at the Recovered Exploration Lab downtown and people, zombies, whatever they are, they’re headed this way. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Steven sped down the stairs in a panic, leaving Luke’s focus to drift back to the television. “We’re here just above Recovered Exploration Lab where the breakout of what looks like zombies seems to have started,” the news anchor started. “On the ground, people are ripping and tearing and eating each other in what seems to be a real-life apocalypse, folks. At this time we don’t know what caused it, but we can assume that the staff at Recovered Exploration have been keeping secrets. This is WLVW Channel 2 News. Back to you in the studio.”

Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing and ran back to the window to see even more people than before ambling down the street. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his phone again and dialed Spencer again. “Spence, have you heard what’s on the news? Are they talking about it on the radio? They’re saying it’s a real life zombie apocalypse out there and I’m, I’m, I’m, uh, looking out the window and people are attacking each other. There’s a swarm of people heading toward the apartment so I’m grabbing some essentials for us. Meet me at our diner okay? Then we can figure out what to do. Be safe, Spence. I love you.”

Running into their bedroom, Luke grabbed the biggest backpack he could find and anything he thought they might need. Spare clothes, toiletries, canned food, a can opener, toilet paper, some sharp knives and his guns from work. “What else?” He spoke into the empty room. On the wall hung their favorite picture from their wedding. He and Spencer wore matching tuxes and walked hand in hand along a lit-up, tree-lined path. Lost in thought, the commotion brought him back. He stuffed the picture into the backpack and ran downstairs, hoping that this was all a dream.

----

Having heard both of Luke’s messages, Spencer took an alternative route home, but unfortunately, he ran into another accident, slamming on the brakes as two cars crashed into stopped cars in front of them. With traffic at a standstill, he pulled his phone out and tried to call Luke. Obviously, there had to be another explanation for what was happening.

As he was about to try calling for a second time, he saw someone in the wreckage ahead, who he’d previously assumed to be dead, jerk back to life. Slowly, she go up from the ground and shuffled toward an office that had his back turned. When an ear-shattering scream resounded through the air, Spencer dropped his phone. She wasn’t the only one.

A man from a nearby car knocked on Spencer’s window. “Buddy, we need to get out of here. You have anything that might help?”

“Like what?” Spencer asked, voice quivering as he picked up his phone from the car floor and shoved it back in his pocket. Quickly, he searched the car for anything that might be helpful. His keys.

“Anything in the trunk?” The man asked, grabbing Spencer’s arm and yanking him away from the incoming crowd. “We need to move now.”

His mind had blanked. After grabbing the emergency preparedness bag from the trunk of the car that Luke insisted he have, he and the unnamed man ran over the highway barrier and away from the traffic. “I need to get to the diner on Jones and Washington,” Spencer said. “Do you know it? My husband said to meet him there.”

Staring back into the growing see of screaming and ambling bodies, the man replied. “I don’t think you’re going that way, kid.”

----

Stumbling down into the street they lived on, Luke looked around in horror. He ran. He ran as hard and as fast as his body would allow, staying clear of any of the infected like his life depended on it. Right now, it did.

Luke wavered between walking and running in the general direction of the diner he knew so well. For five years, every Friday, he and Spencer would head there for a greasy burger and fries and some of the best milkshakes either of them had ever tasted.

The farther he traveled from the apartment, the less insanity he seemed to encounter, but still, his heart beat with reckless abandon as he peered around every corner. If whatever this was didn’t get resolved soon, every street, every city, every state would be something to fear. No longer would he and Spencer be able to go to the local park and bask in the sun. No more walks on the beach. No more calm and colorful sunsets. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he muttered to himself. “Just get to the diner.”

Using landmarks to guide his way (so that he could keep his phone on and pray for a call from Spencer), he crossed what he believed was the halfway point between the apartment and the restaurant. They now lived in a world where people ate each other and rose from the dead, but it was the groups of human beings taking this whole situation as a free for all that he had to avoid most of all.

As he hurriedly turned the corner, Luke bumped into a group of nervous but determined young adults. The youngest couldn’t have been 16 and the oldest topped 25 at the most. By the looks of the straggling adults, most of them had already lost someone or taken this new world as an excuse to ditch their families and fend for themselves. The most self-assured of the bunch stepped in toward Luke and looked at his bag. “Seems like you’re well stocked.”

“For a couple days,” he replied, carefully taking a small step backward. “For my spouse and I until this whole thing blows over.” He spoke the words, but something told him ‘this whole thing’ wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.

With each step Luke took back, the young man stepped forward and tried to yank the bag from his grasp. “Sorry, kiddo. That ain’t happening.” Before the other man could swing his gun from his back and into his hand, Luke had his pulled and aimed. “Don’t. I don’t wanna hurt people. You walk away. I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

The next moments passed by in a blur - kids running, bullets flying. Luke didn’t glance back, running away from the screams and toward the diner with tears in his eyes. He just shot a kid. A kid who was just trying to survive in whatever the hell this new world was.

----

Days passed before Spencer and his party of misfits arrived at the diner. Jim was the man that shook him to reality. On the way they’d also run into a single mother named Avery and her 3-year-old son, Chase, who were being harassed by a couple of guys who just didn’t want to take no for an answer. Although they tried to resolve things peacefully, Jim killed the one that pulled a gun on him and the other ran away. From there, they all went to Jim’s former precinct and grabbed whatever guns they could find. Unlike Luke, Spencer wasn’t used to holding guns, but he was going to have to get accustomed quickly.

Normally, the diner looked reminiscent of the 50s. Crisp black and white checkered floors, red leather seats, clean white tables and chrome chairs at similarly colored bar-tops. Now there were skid marks on the floors, dinged counters and bits of food all over the floor. The kitchen had already been ransacked so very little decent food was left, but they stocked up on what they could and waited.

Nearly a week went by before Jim insisted they leave. “I know your husband was going to meet you here, Spencer, but if we stay any longer we’re putting ourselves in danger. We don’t wanna use all our gunpower to defend this place when we can’t stay here.”

Spencer knew he was right, but the thought of leaving hurt his heart. “I’m never going to see my husband again, am I, Jim?”

The older man just looked at him sadly, resting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Call him. You’ve still got a little power left. Leave a message. And hope for the best. I’ll give you a minute before we head out.”

Spencer thanked him softly and went into the back room before pulling out the phone. Shakily, he dialed Luke one more time. “Hey, babe. I’ve been at the diner for almost a week. I don’t know what happened to you...or,” his voice broke, “or if you’re even still alive, but if you are, I’m headed toward my mother’s nursing home. I need to see if she’s okay. I have no idea if we’re ever going to see each other again. I hope we are. But if we aren’t, I need you know that the years we’ve been together, the years we’ve been married, they’ve been the best and happiest of my life. Studying what I study, it can suck the life out of you, but seeing you in the mornings, the sun shining on your face, it gave me that little push I needed to go do what I do. You changed my life, Luke. I love you so much. If you’re out there, and you can’t get to me, just know that, I love you with everything I have.”

Quickly, he ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket before breaking down sobbing. He allowed himself a few minutes and then met Jim, Avery and Chase outside. They’d all agreed to head in the direction of his mother’s nursing home. Spencer prayed that Luke and his mother were still alive. And safe.

----

After shooting the kid, Luke ran into a building a melted down. Sure, he’d had to shoot people before. He’d killed people before. But this was different. This was practically a kid whose only crime was trying to look out for the group he was with. Between dodging zombies and dodging other people, it took Luke almost two full weeks to get to the diner, but by the time he arrived, if Spencer had been there, he was gone.

Despite the possibility of nearby zombies or walkers or whatever he’d heard people calling them, Luke screamed at the top of his lungs and lost it. Without finding him here, there was no guarantee that they were ever going to see each other again. In his search for any salvageable supplies, he came across random papers, broken glass, ripped bandages - but nothing of use.

When he glanced down at the floor, he saw Spencer’s signature and hurriedly picked it up, but the other pieces of whatever note he left were too ripped up and dirty and stepped on for him to make out what it said. As his fingers slid over his husband’s name, a tear fell from his eye. If Spencer was still alive, he was likely headed in the direction his mother lived.

“Hello?” A small voice broke Luke from his train of thought. He spun around, his hand on the gun in his holster. “Please don’t hurt me,” the girl said. Dirt and dried blood covered her face and her eyes conveyed a lifetime of hurt. “Please.”

Luke lowered his gun. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Luisa had been right in the eye of the storm at the start of this whole thing weeks earlier. “My papa died trying to save my mama. And then she was bitten trying to save my sister and I. She saved me, but it was too late for Josephine. My mother lost too much blood. She fell asleep and never woke up and I had to- I had to put her out of her misery. I’m all alone.”

“Not anymore, kiddo. “You’ll stay with me.”

“Thank you - “

“Luke.”

“Thank you, Luke.”

----

The weeks that followed put Spencer’s band of misfits went through the ringer. After detouring around a group of people that would’ve outnumbered them three to one had they decided they wanted trouble, they had to fight their way through a hoard of walkers. Though they had few weapons, they managed, but not without Jim being bitten.

“Kid, you know without a medic around this tourniquet is just stopping the inevitable. The bastard nicked my brachial artery,” Jim said, heavily drawing in each breath as it came to him. “You’ve got to take the weapons and keep those two safe for as long as you can. Maybe find your husband again.”

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat. “I could go find-”

“No way. There’s a hoard at our backs and only Lord knows what up ahead. I won’t have you risking that for me.”

Over and over again, Spencer tried to reason with him, but in a way Jim was right. He had no idea what was up ahead and even if he found a medic there was no guarantee that he’d get back in time to save Jim. “I’m sorry,” Spencer said, placing a handgun in his palm. “I really am.”

“I know, kid. I have you find your husband again. Now get going.”

Once Spencer grabbed the weapons Jim had, he gathered up Avery and Chase and headed out into the unknown. A gunshot rang out and the crows fled into the sky. Hope was waning fast.

----

On their way to Diana’s nursing home, Spencer, Avery and Chase faced no further challenges. As soon as they detected voices, they headed away from them, preferring to stay in their small group of three than risk bringing other people into their ranks. They crossed the occasional zombie, but they were quickly dispatched.

Finally, they reached Diana’s home, but they were too late. Spencer found her alive, but too bloodied and bruised to move. “Mom, I’ll find someone. I won’t let you die,” Spencer said softly as he cried. “I can find someone to help and we can get you out of here.”

Diana was nothing if not a realist. “I’m going to die, Spencer. Soon probably. I just hope I can keep my wits about me until the sleep sets in. How’s Luke? Where is he? Is he-?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer sobbed. “You really want to talk about my life right now?’

“Yes. When I first saw this on the news, I thought I was having a nightmare, but it’s real and it’s unreal and I just want a sense of normalcy.”

Spencer radioed Avery to tell her where he was before curling in next to his mother. “I was on my way home from work when this all started. Luke was home. I-I haven’t seen him since and I don’t think I’m ever going to see him again. Mom, I’m so scared of being alone.”

“You’ll find him again,” Diana said weakly.

“How do you know?”

“A mother knows. Remember?”

Spencer grabbed her hand and started reading the nearest book he could find. “Spencer...” she said, whisper soft. “It’s time for me to go to sleep.”

“No, mom, just a little bit longer.”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

Diana fought for each breath. “Don’t let me turn into one of those things.”

Spencer choked out a sob. “I won’t.”

“And stay hopeful.”

He promised he would, though he wasn’t sure it was a promise he could keep. “Mom?”

Nothing.

Before she could come back, he took a small gun out of his pocket, aimed, and fired. “I’ll try, Mom.”

----

Days passed into weeks passed into months passed into years. In a world changed, it changed those within in. Luke, once a confident and self-assured government agent, turned inward, going from one “safe haven” to another and sheltering himself and Luisa until their hideaway was discovered and they needed to move on, never once fighting for a place to call a makeshift home.

Through the years he lost himself, finding that instead of helping others, he did only what he had to do for he and Luisa to survive, never once taking a life, only dispatching zombies when need be.

On the other hand, Spencer found himself hardening against the world. More than a year after everything began, Avery was overtaken by a hoard they passed, shoving Chase out of the crowd and toward Spencer. With her last breaths, she begged Spencer to take care of her son. Five years later, he and the almost nine-year-old boy headed a group of nearly 50 people, though numbers dwindled and rose from month to month.

Spencer became a leader, but he confided in no one, killed if it was necessary to defend his “home”, and rarely spoke, shutting down in the face of any emotional connection. To connect was to lose, and he had lost enough.

“Daniel and Alexa, you’ll accompany me into town for some supplies.” In addition to defending the makeshift community they’d developed, Spencer always sent out scouts to ensure that no one touched the supplies in surrounding towns. Less-looted stores were low in number and eventually he would need to conduct another reconnaissance mission to find supplies, but for now they would survive. “We leave within the hour.”

Smiles were few and far between, for Spencer more than most. However, the little boy he’d ended up raising as his son brought him a sliver of joy, along with his memories of Luke. They coaxed him to sleep at night and in the morning, he used them to make it through the day. “Chase, you know I love you, right?”

“I do, Spencer. Be careful okay? I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll be back.” He never promised, knowing more than most that sometimes the world was cruel. “Be good for Sandra.”

Though he was born before the world went to shit, Chase had essentially grown up in this new world. He was disciplined and trustworthy and more an adult than any almost nine-year-old boy should ever have to be.

On the way to gather supplies, Spencer zoned out, only gathering little bits of the conversation going on behind him. Both Daniel and Alexa had lost spouses at the start of the apocalypse and something told Spencer they were seeking comfort in one another now that they were “safe.” Funny how the meaning of a word could change in such a short amount of time.

While out for supplies, Spencer had insisted that no one go anywhere alone, so the three entered the hardware store in search of anything they could use as a weapon. As he gathered ropes and zip ties and wrenches into his supply bag, he heard Alexa and Daniel call for him. “Boss!”

Spencer approached the two, their guns raised and ready to fire. In the line of sight was a young woman, sheltered by a man. He closed his eyes and begged the universe for this not to be a joke, his mind playing tricks on him. When Spencer opened his eyes, he remained. “Luke?”

He smiled and immediately broke into tears. “Spence? You’re, you’re-”

Pushing past Daniel and Alexa, Spencer ran into Luke’s arms on the verge of tears, pressing his lips to his husband’s for the first time in nearly seven years. “I’m alive. And you’re here. How are you here?”

“Because I’m a different person. You?”

“Me too,” Spencer said sadly. “Everything’s changed. Except what I feel for you. I’m finally home again.”

#cmbingo #cmbingo21 #criminal minds bingo #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #luke alvez #reidvez #ralvez #spencer reid x luke alvez #luke alvez x spencer reid #dontshootmespence #home again

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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IOTA Reviews: Furious Fu

Well, I'm surprised this is here so quickly, but here we are. The first episode of Season 4. While I was on the fence about reviewing it even though it isn't in English (though there’s one in Spanish with English subtitles), but it seems like there are people that want to see me do it anyway, so who am I to let them down? Hopefully, I won't be regretting my decision to go over every episode of this season later on.

Will Marinette's new position as Guardian lead to more storylines other than her suffering? Will the show actually resolve the whole Love Square debacle this season? Why am I asking you all these questions?

Let's dive right into the first (actually sixth because of course it is) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season, Furious Fu.

We start off with all of the Kwamis under Marinette's care asking to see Former Master by Default Fu, before Marinette reminds them, and by extension, the audience, that he erased his memory during the events of last season, making her the new Guardian. They continue to act like hyperactive children until Marinette finally caves in and carries them in her backpack, although not before they give us one of the most unintentionally creepy images in the entire show.

I apologize in advance for your nightmares tonight.

The only Kwami who stays is the Dog Kwami, Barkk, who looks like she's going to see if Marinette's parents have any wine in the kitchen once she leaves.

Marinette heads down to the train station, where she meets up with Fu and Marianne, a former confidant/old flame who he recently reunited with. It turns out that inbetween Seasons 3 and 4, not only has Fu been living in London with Marianne while taking up painting as a hobby, but they've actually gotten married. So yeah, while Marinette has to deal with the stress of protecting some of the most dangerous artifacts on the planet, Fu's just been chilling in London, oblivious to the fact that he forced a teenage girl to do his job for him. Nothing but the best from this show's wise and lovable “mentor”.

After heading back home, Marinette sees a strange man who has broken into her room and demands to know where she got the Miracle Box from.

This is Master Su-Han, the former Guardians before Fu accidentally killed them all. He's naturally not happy with the “improper” form of the Miracle Box (he's not the only one) and wants to know how Marinette got in in the first place. When she says she got it from Fu...

Yeah... while it isn't as obvious as “Animaestro” and “Felix”, you can kind of tell that this is a “turn the critics into enemies” episode. Even though the criticism towards Master Fu isn't as prevalent as the criticism those episodes were meant to call out, there have been some fans on Tumblr and Reddit who have criticized Fu's actions in the show, calling out his decision to make Marinette a guardian in particular. Likewise, Su-Han is meant to be a strawman to mirror the complaints, and show why they are ridiculous. Though ironically, Su-Han's dialogue and rules also unintentionally highlight how incompetent the Order of the Guardians was, but we'll get to it later.

But because the script says she has to, Marinette defends Fu's decision to make her Guardian. She even refers to Fu being the reason the Guardians were all killed in the first place as a “mistake”.

NO HE DIDN'T! How was what Fu did in any way a sacrifice? When he made Marinette the new Guardian “Miracle Queen”, All Fu really did was make the box float for a bit before it immediately landed back in Chloe's hands. If the box had magically floated over to Ladybug in the process, I'd see why Fu would have done it. It'd still be reckless, but it would be a good way to escape from Hawkmoth and Mayura's trap. Hell, the Kwamis had already refused to let Chloe transform when she had their Miraculous, so there was no real threat there. We don't even know if Hawkmoth knew how to transform with the other Miraculous. So again, I raise the question: How was Fu forcing Ladybug to take his job while he gets to paint in London a heroic sacrifice? How can you even frame that as anything but cowardly?

Su-Han notices a few of the Kwamis are missing, and takes notice of Plagg, who was shown to devastate Paris with a single tap to the ground, being missing in particular. He's even more horrified to see Marinette's earrings, because, get this, Guardians aren't allowed to wear Miraculous.

You're telling me that if someone gets their hands on a Miraculous and goes rogue, the Guardians are supposed to fight them with their bare hands? They don't even explain it by saying something like how the Guardians aren't supposed to be tempted by the power of the Miraculous, we're just supposed to accept that rule as fact. How are you supposed to fight someone with superpowers like illusions, shapeshifting, teleportation, and time travel on your own?

So Su-Han orders the Kwamis back into the Miracle Box (still don't get why they have to listen to him) and lists off some of the rules Marinette broke like he was a Ferengi reading the Rules of Acquisition. He does all of this while voicing several concerns fans have about Marinette being Guardian, but rather than being out of concern or compassion for her, it's condescension.

It's pretty easy to understand Su-Han's side of the story, and if the episode actually acknowledged it, I wouldn't mind. But no, everything he says is automatically supposed to be wrong, because when has anything with a different viewpoint portrayed as a good guy in this show?

Su-Han orders Ladybug to take him to see Cat Noir before demanding they both hand over their Miraculous, and we learn something interesting about the Order of the Guardians.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

Of all the stupid Guardian rules Master Fuckup didn't blindly follow, it's the rule that Miraculous are ONLY SUPPOSED TO GO TO ADULTS!? Why the hell did he even recruit Marinette and Adrien in the first place if Miraculous for adults to use? What did he even see in them? All they did was help him once!

And again, we're supposed to see Su-Han as wrong for doing this. Why can't Ladybug simply tell Su-Han about Hawkmoth and ask for his help before she returns her Miraculous to him? That way, Hawkmoth is defeated, and Su-Han gets the Miraculous back. And it's not like Ladybug doesn't try to talk things out with Su-Han, so you can't say she didn't consider it. Oh wait, that would imply Su-Han is supposed to have a point in his claims.

Though to the show's credit, Su-Han's words do get to Ladybug, causing herself to doubt herself and her ability to stop Hawkmoth, but Cat Noir helps to reassure her, saying he'll only return his Miraculous only if she asks him to. It's a brief moment, but it's nice to see him place his faith in his partner in a platonic way.

Less nice to see is Cat Noir finding out that if Ladybug gives up her position as Guardian, she'll lose her memory like Fu. Except... Cat Noir was there when Miraculous Ladybug failed to restore Fu's memory, so why does he see this as new information? Did he only think it would happen to Fu? Did he lose some of his memory at the end of the last season?

This information is enough for Cat Noir to start a fight with Su-Han, with Ladybug abandoning any attempts at diplomacy by declaring that Cat Noir won't lose his Miraculous. It's a little frustrating to see them engage Su-Han, but again, this is meant to show Cat Noir trying to protect Ladybug so she doesn't lose her memory. This scene still does a good job showcasing the bond the two heroes have. It's far better than anything we got from the New York special.

Su-Han is trained in... Oh God... Mirakung-Fu, which somehow gives him the ability to predict Ladybug and Cat Noir's moves before they make them, comparing it to his rage “adaptating and always finding a way”. Translation: Astruc ripped off something else from Dragon Ball, Ultra Instinct. Ladybug distracts Su-Han and gets the Miracle Box, while Cat Noir gets his staff. After briefly trapping him under some rubble (which I guess doesn't kill him because of his “Mirakung-Fu”), the two heroes escape.

Meanwhile, Shadowmoth, the upgraded form of Hawkmoth that I'll talk about in his debut proper, senses Su-Han's negative emotions and sends out an Akuma after him. Su-Han sees Fu painting in the park, and steals his cane, thinking it's a Guardian's staff he can sue to track down the Miraculous. When the Akuma reaches him, Su-Han uses a technique to repel the Akuma completely. I like this idea. It makes sense that a monk would find a way to mask their emotions and achieve enough of a state of zen to ward off an Akuma. The Akuma instead reaches Fu, turning him into Furious Fu.

I like the design of this Akuma. While I personally thought it could have made for a more interesting fight if he was still short (like Yoda's fight scenes in the prequels), I think it's really clever to incorporate Fu's Hawaiian shirt into what looks like a Chinese gi. Furious Fu's powers are kind of like Evilustrator, only he has to draw down a Chinese character on a talisman before the power takes immediate effect, and lacks the weakness Evilustrator had with his tablet being easily breakable, with the corrupted object, a paintbrush on his ear, being harder to reach.

Ladybug and Cat Noir retreat to the unnamed stadium that the local school has gym class in for some reason, where they're confronted by Su-Han, who in turn, is confronted by Furious Fu. This leads to a three-way fight for the Miracle Box, which they all kick around like a soccer ball. Cat Noir even gets a goal. All around, pretty fun bit, though not for the Kwamis, I guess.

As soon as he sees Furious Fu get the Miracle Ball, Su-Han hides while Ladybug and Cat Noir get beat up by the Akuma. While he does get up eventually, he's still taken out by Furious Fu. Apparently, Su-Han's “Mirakung-Fu” is only useful against Miraculous holders, not supervillains created with the powers of a Miraculous. How the hell does that work? That's like being a trained soldier in the Marine Corps who's terrible at laser tag.

Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm (again, I'll talk about the suit change for its proper debut episode), and gets a pair of wire cutters. She uses them go get a soccer ball from a nearby container while Cat Noir keeps Furious Fu busy. Furious Fu, in turn, uses one of his talismans to predict Ladybug's plan, and manages to immobilize both heroes, but not before Ladybug traps the soccer ball underneath Cat Noir's arm before Furious Fu can use his Cataclysm against him.

How do they stop him? By having Marianne casually walk up to him and break the paintbrush while he's distracted. Honestly, that's a pretty funny payoff. Not “Puppeteer” or “Bakerix” funny, but it's still one of the funnier Akuma defeats I've seen. Another funny joke is Cat Noir using his Cataclysm on a soccer ball before he accidentally uses it on Ladybug and Marianne for their post-victory fist bump.

Later on, after Marinette sees Marianne and Fu off while the latter continues to avoid responsibility, Su-Han apologizes to her, and decides to trust her. He'll still take away the Miracle Box if she screws up, but it's a start to someone Marinette can at least consult Guardian to Guardian.

And honestly? I think this episode is a pretty good start to Season 4. It really feels like the writers are learning from their mistakes in Season 3.

Yes, Marinette is blamed by Su-Han, and while it is frustrating to turn Su-Han into a strawman, unlike other Season 3 episodes where Marinette is blamed, the blame itself is unwarranted, and by the end of the episode, it looks like Su-Han is willing to change, as he apologizes to Fu after he's de-evilized. That's a lot more than I can say for Astruc's other straw characters like Chloe and Felix. Sure, some of Su-Han's concerns are brushed off, but it's still a start.

From what little we saw of him, Cat Noir is also a lot better, really showing the character development promised towards the end of “Miracle Queen”. He's thankfully turned down the flirting, and I can only hope he keeps his promise as the season goes on. I hope we get an episode or two showing his perspective on Ladybug becoming Guardian, and how he feels less like her actual partner now. You know, something that can reinforce their bond as partners.

My biggest complaints from the episode really come from the way Fu is portrayed, and even then, it's only because of events that happen because of what he did last season and how much of a screw-up he is, despite the narrative trying to tell the audience he isn't. Then there's the revelation that Fu's cane has the ability to track down Miraculous. So... we're seriously learning this now? Why didn't Fu use it earlier to look for the two missing Miraculous? He literally has a Miraculous detector! But hopefully, the consequences of Fu's actions won't affect this season too much.

So yeah, I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about this season so far. Maybe Season 4 won't be that bad after all.

Oh.

Oh no...

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starryknight09 · 4 years

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Unforeseen dangers ch. 5

Summary: As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“Hey rugrat, what have you been up to?” Clint asked as Peter walked into the common room.

“Homework.” He answered and jumped over the back of the couch, landing with his back on the cushions and jostling Clint. “My brain is dead.” He complained, not caring if he was being melodramatic. He’d spent all morning and afternoon working on it, and he still had a lot left to do. Missing almost two weeks of school was something he definitely planned to avoid in the future.

“Rough, huh?” Clint asked with a half grin.

“That’s an understatement.”

“You’ll survive.” Clint patted his shin.

“Yeah I guess.” He sighed. “I just want to be done with it so I can actually start to enjoy my winter break.”

Clint nodded in understanding before gesturing toward his right thigh. “How’s the leg?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Pretty much back to normal.”

“Good. That’s quite the healing factor you have. If that had happened to me, I would’ve been laid up for weeks.”

“Yeah. It definitely has its uses. Although personally, I like it better when I don’t need it at all.”

“I’m sure everyone feels that way.” Clint nodded. “But we’re all just happy you’re ok now kid.”

“Me too.” Peter tried to smile, but he didn’t know how well he succeeded. The whole event with Ross had been nothing short of terrifying and thinking about it still left a stale taste in his mouth.

“Hey, and don’t worry about this media thing. Your dad’s got it covered and we’ve all got your back, you know.”

“I know.” He nodded. Maybe he should be more worried than he was about his picture being splashed across all the news channels, but he had too many other things on his mind. He didn’t have the mental space to start worrying about something that hadn’t caused an actual problem yet. He figured he’d deal with it if it became an issue, but hopefully it wouldn’t.

“Hey it’s the squirt.” Sam announced as he walked out of the elevator and into the room along with Steve, Nat, and Rhodey. They all had their sweat laden workout gear on.

“Hey guys.” He greeted them with a lazy wave.

“You two hungry?” Steve asked, making his way toward the kitchen.

“You know me, I could always eat.” Clint replied.

“Me too.” Peter agreed.

“I’m starving.” Sam said dramatically as he fell backward into one of the armchairs.

“Ditto.” Rhodey said, sitting on the other empty couch. Nat hummed in agreement before she slumped down next to him.

“Whatever happened to the no coming in the common room without showering first rule?” Clint complained.

“That sounds like a made up rule.” Nat said tiredly.

“Didn’t you hear us? We’re starving.” Sam reiterated as if that explained everything.

“You guys reek.” Clint shook his head.

Nat flipped him off.

“We do not.” Sam sniffed one of his arm pits. “I smell great.”

Rhodey shook his head and turned the TV on.

“What’s for dinner Cap?” Sam asked as Steve walked over.

“Well since it looks like there’s no food in the kitchen, I ordered some pizzas.” Steve answered, sitting in the other empty armchair.

“Mmm, pizza sounds great.” Rhodey said. He stopped channel surfing and settled on a news station.

“What do you mean there’s no food?” Clint asked.

“Exactly what I said. The cupboards are bare.”

“Sounds like Stark’s been slacking.” Sam snorted.

“Can you blame him?” Nat quirked a judgmental eyebrow at him.

Peter pretended to be engrossed in the TV so he could ignore the not so subtle looks they all turned toward him.

“I’m sure FRIDAY can handle it.” Clint waved a hand dismissively then directed his eyes to the ceiling. “Right FRIDAY?”

“Indeed. I will order the usual shipment to restock the kitchen right away, Katniss.”

“FRIDAY.” Clint groaned in complaint as everyone else grinned or chuckled in amusement. One of Tony’s favorite things to do was to program FRIDAY to call his teammates by their many nicknames.

“…and in other news, no progress has been made in identifying the boy next to Tony Stark in the photo that has been displayed by media outlets across the world.”

Peter’s attention snapped to the television as the two newscasters on the screen discussed him. Well, the picture of him. The photo popped up in the upper right hand corner of the screen. It was really weird seeing a picture of himself on television even when no one else recognized it as him.

“Maybe we should turn this off.” Steve suggested but Peter shook his head when Rhodey made a move toward the remote.

“No. I want to hear what they’re saying.” He said softly. He’d been avoiding it, but he figured it’d be stupid to try to avoid it forever, and there was no time like the present.

“Tony Stark has remained conspicuously silent on the matter.” The male newscaster said.

“And if that’s not telling, I don’t know what is.” The female newscaster agreed. “This is the man that couldn’t keep his identity secret as Ironman for more than a day, but this he makes no remark about?”

“And not just him, but Stark Industries and the Avengers are all keeping quiet. There’s definitely a story to be had here. The only question is who is going to figure it out first.” The man smiled.

Peter scrunched his face up at that.

“And although there’s still no official word from any of the staff involved in the signing of the Accords amendments, our sources say that the government aide responsible for the leaked photo has been fired.” The woman added.

“Well that’s certainly not surprising,” The man said as he nodded and straightened the stack of papers in front of him, “especially if you consider—”

“FRIDAY off.” Tony’s voice interrupted whatever the man had been about to say.

Peter craned his head back over the armrest to see his dad standing there with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Why are we watching this crap?” Tony nodded toward the now blank TV screen. “There’s really nothing more interesting on?”

Guilty silence met his question.

“It’s not their fault. I wanted to watch it.” Peter spoke up. He didn’t want anyone getting in trouble because of him. “I should know what they’re saying about me.”

“They’re not saying anything about you.” Tony argued, and Peter swallowed hard when his dad turned his displeased expression on him. “Because they don’t know it’s you. They’re speculating on some as of yet unnamed person. And that’s how it’s going to stay until they eventually lose interest and then all this will die out.”

No one argued with him.

“Got it?”

Peter nodded.

“Trust me. It’s all going to be fine.” Tony said, voice softening as his hand landed in Peter’s hair.

“Ok.” Peter gave him a small smile.

“Ok good.” Tony rounded the couch and gently picked up Peter’s feet to make space so he could sit on the couch before settling them back in his lap. “So, now that that’s settled, maybe we can watch something of actual substance?”

Rhodey turned the TV back on, but was quick to change the channel, searching for something better.

After a few long seconds of awkward silence, Clint asked with a smirk, “So you got the aide fired huh?”

“Of course.” Tony answered as if it was obvious.

Peter protested in surprise, “Wait. You got them fired?”

“Don’t worry about it kid.” Tony patted his knee.

“But—”

“What they did was illegal. They’re lucky all I did was take their job away. I could’ve done a lot worse. I wanted to, actually, but Pepper talked me out of it.” Tony said more darkly.

“Better be careful Stark. For all you know, all they need is this grudge against you to turn into an evil supervillain intent on revenge.” Nat joked, lightening the mood.

Tony snorted. “That is kind of my MO, huh?”

“I wouldn’t be proud of that.” Nat said dryly.

“Hey, maybe it’s a good thing. I eventually have to run out of enemies, right?”

“Not at the rate you make them.” Rhodey chimed in.

“Hmm. That may be true.”

“Definitely true.” Clint nodded. “I’m one more stupid nickname from FRIDAY away from taking you out myself.”

That made everyone laugh and even Peter quirked a smile. He still felt bad that someone had lost their job over him, but if releasing that picture had been illegal then it had probably been deserved. He figured he could live with that.

Tony had been right. A couple weeks passed and the media buzz finally started to die down as they came no closer to figuring out that he was the kid in the picture. Everyone around the Tower started to act a little less uptight, which Peter figured could also be because of the holiday season, and not just his picture’s fading notoriety, but either way, it was nice.

Tony went all out and literally decked the halls with the rest of the team’s help. Peter had never seen so many Christmas decorations. He and May usually decorated a tree and put some baubles up around the house but that was the extent of it. Tony took it to a whole another level.

He’d bought a ten foot tree and the whole team had spent one morning decking it out in an assortment of ornaments while they listened to Christmas music and drank hot chocolate with candy canes. The kicker was the addition of everyone’s specially made superhero ornament, including Peter’s Spiderman. But the tree wasn’t all. Garland, poinsettias, lights, and Christmas themed decorations adorned every available surface. It looked like an elf had thrown up in the room, and more often than not, Tony walked around with a Santa hat perched crookedly on his head. Peter loved Christmas, but it was almost too much even for him.

Peter didn’t know if this was the usual for Tony or if he was doing it special for him, for their first Christmas together. The offhanded comments Pepper and Rhodey had made along with some of the other Avengers made Peter suspect it was the latter, and he appreciated it, but he also couldn’t help the melancholy that sometimes threatened to overtake him as he prepared to celebrate his first Christmas without May. Tony seemed to sense it every time he started to feel particularly down because he’d show up out of nowhere and pull him into some festive activity.

So far, he’d gone ice skating at a rink Tony had rented out for the afternoon to keep it free from bystanders, he’d made a gingerbread house, he’d gone upstate to go sledding, and he’d decorated Christmas cookies, the activity he was currently attempting. He and May had never really done the Christmas cookie thing since most of her cookie baking attempts ended up blackened. The store bought kind had been a Christmas staple in their house ever since Peter could remember.

But Peter had to admit, Steve’s homemade cookies tasted way better.

“You’re supposed to decorate them, not eat them.” Tony said as Peter munched on his only partially iced gingerbread cookie.

“I can’t help it. They’re too good.” He said through a mouthful of crumbs.

Tony shook his head in mock exasperation. “Well hopefully Cap doesn’t mind making more or all his hard work is going to be gone by the end of the night.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve said from the other side of the kitchen where he was rolling out more dough to cut with the cookie cutters.

“I’ve only had like two.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“I counted at least three.” Bruce piped in but didn’t take his concentration away from frosting the snowflake cookie in front of him.

“Five.” Nat said with a quirk of her lip while she sprinkled green and red crystal sprinkles over her tree cookie.

“No way I’ve had that many.” Peter protested. “You must be losing your touch.”

Nat sent a fake glare his way and Peter tried to act appropriately cowed in the face of the Black Widow’s displeasure. It didn’t work so well. He broke into a grin instead.

“I also counted five.” Vision added from where he decorated his cookie, which looked more like something out of MOMA than a Christmas cookie. He and Wanda had returned the night before, from wherever they’d been, to celebrate the holiday with the team while Clint and Scott had left a couple days earlier to spend Christmas with their families.

“Whose side are you on?” Peter asked with feigned betrayal as Tony cackled beside him.

“I was not aware there were sides.” Vision cocked his head sideways.

“There aren’t.” Wanda answered as she laughed softly next to Vision. “It’s a joke.”

“Oh. I see.” Vision nodded and went back to his cookie.

Peter reached to grab another fresh cookie, a sugar cookie this time, in the shape of a candy cane, but Tony lightly swatted the back of his hand.

“Nuh uh. No more cookies for you.”

“I’m going to decorate it, not eat it.”

Tony shot him a flat look of disbelief. “You said that last time. And the time before that.”

“Well this time I mean it.”

“Fine, but if you eat this one, you’re cut off for good.”

“Way to stick to your guns Stark.” Sam snorted over his snowman cookie.

Tony flipped him off without looking up from frosting his own cookie, but he didn’t stop Peter from grabbing the candy cane cookie.

As good as it looked, and as tempted as he was to eat it, Peter resisted and started frosting it instead, going for red and blue stripes instead of the classic red and white.

“Are spiders colorblind?” Rhodey poked fun at his miscolored candy cane cookie as he finished sprinkling his own bell shaped one with silver sprinkle balls.

“No.” Peter said and checked to make sure the frosting had hardened enough before he leaned over to start piping white frosting in a thin and delicate rendition of his spider webs over the blue and red.

“Because last I checked candy canes are red and white.”

“Hmm.” He said, distracted as he concentrated on finishing one of the webs and then starting on another. “It’s my theme cookie.”

“Your what?”

“My theme cookie.” He explained as he finished the webbing overlays and leaned back. “See? Spiderman candy cane.”

“Nice.” Rhodey nodded and raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.

“That looks good kid.” Tony smiled, clapping him on the back.

“Damn. Why didn’t we think of that?” Sam asked.

“Yeah and what would your theme even be?” Rhodey asked. “A bird? What are you going to do, put one in a tree?”

Sam glared at him.

“If he made it look like a pear tree he could put a partridge in it.” Peter joked.

Everyone laughed.

“Not a bad idea kid, but it’d have to be a falcon, not a partridge.” Sam argued.

Peter shrugged and grabbed another cookie to decorate. “Semantics.”

“Two turtle doves might be cuter.” Wanda offered with a smirk. “One could be Falcon and the other Hawkeye.”

That got even more laughs.

“Ok. That’s enough of making fun of the bird themed superheroes.” Sam said. “Especially when Clint’s not even here to defend himself. Besides, pipsqueak here is the only one who’s identity can even be turned into a cookie.”

“What are you talking about? I just did it.” Nat smugly held up the cookie she’d just finished, an ornament shaped one, decorated black with her red Black Widow logo embossed in frosting on it.

“Nice.” Peter grinned. It looked awesome. “The spiders for the win.” He reached across the counter and high fived her.

“Where did you even get black frosting?” Sam asked, looking around the countertop and not seeing any.

Nat just smiled.

“I don’t know. I think I like this one better.” Tony said and held his own cookie up. A snowman with red and yellow Ironman armor on and a blue arc reactor in the center of its chest.

“That looks awesome.” Peter said, impressed. He didn’t know Tony could draw like that, even if it was only with frosting. When he thought about it, though, he didn’t know why he was surprised. Creating and engineering probably required a lot of skill in drawing.

“I know. Don’t eat it.” Tony pointed a finger at him in warning as he set it back down on the counter to finish drying.

“No, this one’s definitely the best.” Bruce said, holding up a gingerbread cookie he’d frosted completely green with purple shorts.

“Nice.” Peter nodded.

“Looks good.” Tony agreed.

“How does this look?” Vision asked, holding up his own, an elaborately decorated tree cookie with two birds in it, one adorned in red and black with large wings and the other in black and purple with a bow across its back.

“That’s amazing Viz.” Wanda nodded.

“Yeah.” Rhodey agreed. “See Sam? You get your cookie after all.”

“Ok but seriously, where the hell is all the black frosting coming from?” Sam asked, scanning the counter top again.

Peter couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing and everyone joined in.

The theme cookie decorating turned into a thing. An ornament decorated to look like Captain America’s shield was next. A snowman in the War Machine armor followed. Then Vision made a gingerbread man cookie with the mind stone affixed to its forehead and Wanda made one with red in its palms and eyes.

Peter had to admit, it was a great way to spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve. The easy camaraderie and happiness of the season was infectious. There was no way he could stay sad even if he’d wanted to.

“You good?” Tony leaned in and asked when he’d been uncharacteristically quiet for a few minutes.

“Yeah. I was just thinking.”

“Uh-huh. About what?”

Peter smiled at the man that had become his dad as he answered, “May would’ve loved this.”

“Yeah?” Tony gave him a soft smile in return.

“Definitely.”

Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him in for a sideways hug. “I think you’re right. And I have to say, this has been one of my favorite Christmases so far.”

“Really?”

Tony nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I get to spend it with you.”

Peter’s eyes were twinkling as he smiled up at his dad.

“And I know it’s probably tough for you, but I hope you’re having at least a little fun.”

“I am. You’ve been trying really hard.”

“I have.” Tony admitted. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s working.”

“Good.”

Tony ruffled his hair and they went back to cookie decorating. And eating.

A part of Peter’s heart still constantly ached from the emptiness of May’s absence, but a larger part was filled with happiness and the joy of the season that Tony’s efforts had inevitably brought.

He knew May wouldn’t begrudge him his holiday cheer. Just like he knew she wouldn’t mind him changing his name. He wondered again if the whole Ross kidnapping him and almost dying thing had been worth it in the end just to know that his family loved him and only wanted the best for him. For him to be happy.

A wet tap on his nose snapped his attention back to the present.

“Smile Rudolph.” Nat grinned as he touched the tip of his nose where she’d smeared a glob of red frosting.

Peter gaped for only a split second before retaliating by flinging a handful of his white frosting at her. She tried to duck but still ended up getting it on her cheek and in her hair.

“Oh, now you started it.” Nat warned.

“No, you did.” Peter countered.

“No! Don’t even think about it!” Tony warned holding his hands up between them, but Nat was already dipping her hand into the red frosting bowl next to her.

“Guys let’s not—” Steve tried to reason with them. He was cut off as Nat splattered Tony and Peter with a fistful of red frosting.

“—do this.” Steve sighed.

Peter laughed at Steve’s resignation and his dad’s face covered in frosting.

“You’re dead Romanov.” Tony threatened, and then it was an all out frosting food fight.

As Peter ducked down beneath the counter to avoid getting splattered, he had to admit that the Avengers sure knew how to liven up the season.

#unforeseen dangers #ch 5

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jupitermelichios · 4 years

Text

So I had to do overtime today, but I’m working from home and I’m not expected to make phone calls on weekends, so obviously I’m watching highschool musical 2 while i work.

I had not remembered that a major plot revolves around a) East High having a golf team and b) Troy having been on the golf team. Troy’s family can’t afford to send him to college without a scholarship. His dad has to buy a wreck and repair it rather than getting him a new car. But apparently they spend their weekends playing golf! Also highschool golf team.

I had also not remembered the scene where Sharpay has her minion kidnap Troy to watch a racist song and dance sequence that’s weird enough that’s it’s functionally a Rogers & Hammerstein style dream ballet but without the sleep/drugs framing device.

This is a minor thing, but there’s a couple of underwater shots that are supposed to be shot in the pool on the golf course but the pool they shoot in is insanely deep, like way deeper than a standard olympic pool. I assume it’s one on a studio lot they use for filming dramatic drowning scenes and stuff, but that doesn’t explain why they didn’t use the actual pool they had on the set.

They really show off how weird the choice of basketball as Troy’s sport was when they have a scene were college basketball people come to meet Troy, and they’re all 6ft black guys standing next to this tiny little white teenager. I assume the reason why it’s basketball is football doesn’t lend itself to coreography and basketball isn’t sexy enough? It’s still weird.

I’m still pissed that the girl who’s dark secret was her love of popping and locking can’t actually pop and lock. That seems like it would be a really easy thing to get right when you’ve got disney’s entire stable of stage school kids to draw on.

Holy shit I hadn’t remembered how gay the basketball scene was. Like, holy shit. This isn’t subtle and I really can’t believe that was an accident. Except that it’s the disney channel, so there’s no way it was deliberate. Also you’ve got to appreciate the irony of the basketball boys getting a dance routines scored to a song about how they refuse to dance.

I like how they were trying tomake it clear how spoiled Ryan and Sharpay are, but instead but gave them the ridiculously supportive parents who are completely devoted to supporting their kids despite the fact that their daughter is a sociopath and their son probably thinks Elton John could have done with more spangles. And also that translates into them also being super supportive of anyone their kids are friends with.

I’m assuming that the thought process behind this movie was ‘everyone thinks the twins are fucking, give Sharpay a love interest she’s not related to, dial Ryan’s queer coding up to 11, and make them fight, the rest will work itself out’

All of the costume design for these movies is amazing, it’s early 00s runway times 1000000, and I love whoever decided that Sharpay should unironically wear a tiara in every scene.

The overdubbing of the songs is seriously hit and miss, which adds to the already slightly weird tonal decision to make 70% of the songs diagetic, so it’s never clear what’s actually happening. Like, the baseball dance, probably not real, but Sharpay’s opening number? Who the fuck knows!

The biggest plot hole in this whole show is that both Troy and Gabrielle can read sheet music. Seriously why and when did either of them learn that? They could do it in the first one as well, so it’s not that they learned it for the unnamed musical.

It’s probably a lot less noticable if you’re a kid, but as an adult the fact that they repeat for or five songs over and over to pad the runtime and avoid having to write additional music really stands out.

I’m absolutely always here for dance sequences that are framed like bruce banner hulking out, but while HS2 is objectively a better movie than footloose, Efron is no Kevin Spacey.

Okay, so much of this film is redemed by the guy who’s like “why the fuck do you think we care about a musical tallent show, I’m a basketball player/pastry chef what the fuck do i care about musicals”

How the fuck did Troy learn an entire new song in the 2 minutes it took Gabriella to get changed? Also I know the answer is ‘dramatic reveals’ but why did no one tell the announcer that Sharpay would not be singing, that’s just a dick move.

Okay, so it’s cute that they get to do the final number, but as that annoying person who always has to point out the logistical problems of fictional stories, they’ve got like 300 guests eating a meal and the entire kitchen, wait and bar staff have all fucked off to do a tallent show. Are the guests supposed to let themselves into the kitchen and cook their own dinner?! Are we trusting them behind the bar now?!

Oh fuck you Ryan, I thought you were supposed to be good at this stuff, why is your group number a) a duet, b) staged in a way that means that actual audience can only see the backs of the performers! And then they give him the fucking trophy instead of Kelsie! What the fuck, movie?! I have seen a lot of dance movies, and I know you have to make the final number one no one has ever heard or rehearsed before, but there’s no justification for this! Sharpay gets a character developement moment, but it’s immediately followed by her being punished, which is just narritvely weird, and then the wildcats musical number that big chunks of the plot have been about never gets used.

Seriously the overdubbing. How is it this bad?! Also “enjoy this day because you’ll never get another’ is a weirdly threatening lyric for the closing song of a disney channel movie about the importance of friendship!

Honestly I actually really enjoyed it, and some of the songs are bops, but there’s a lot to unpack.

#hsm2 #hsm #charlie watches a thing #long post

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rebgarof · 4 years

Link

“The question that such representations present for the food world is a difficult one: Who gets to use the global pantry or introduce “new” international ingredients to a Western audience? And behind that is an even more uncomfortable query: Can the aspiration that has become central to the culinary arts ever not be white?

Because the aesthetics of food media are indeed white. That white aesthetic is not, strictly speaking, the abundant natural light, ceramic plates, strategically scattered handfuls of fresh herbs, pastel dining rooms, artisan knives, or even the butcher diagram tattoos that the food media so loves to fetishize. It is more accurate to say that the way we define what is contemporary and fashionable in food is tied to whiteness as a cultural norm — and to its ability to incorporate other cultures without actually becoming them.

Only whiteness can deracinate and subsume the world of culinary influences into itself and yet remain unnamed. It’s a complicated little dance of power and desire: The mainstream is white, so what is presented in the mainstream becomes defined as white, and — ta-da — what you see in viral YouTube videos somehow ends up reinforcing a white norm, even though the historical roots of a dish or an ingredient might be the Levant or East Asia. You might say whiteness works by positing itself as a default. You might also say that this sucks.”

(...)

“But to recognize white privilege is one thing; to actively combat it or resist taking advantage of it is something else altogether. That balance between competing and contradictory ideas is a useful way to think about food media in 2020. It doesn’t help to say that certain people own ingredients, or have dominion over certain types or presentations or techniques. But the way that excitement over particular trends and recipes circulates publicly, whether on Instagram or in Bon Appétit, can reinforce whiteness as a norm, just as divorcing history from food erases the contributions and lives of people of color from Western narratives. When whiteness is allowed to function as if it weren’t that, it hurts us all.

During our interview, Roman pointed out that many home kitchens, particularly in places like the U.S., the U.K., and Australia, now feature such previously so-called exotic ingredients as anchovies, soy sauce, and Aleppo pepper. “The modern way we cook now integrates so many different ingredients that come from so many different places, and I think that’s fucking awesome,” she said.

That seems quite correct, and the last thing anyone should argue is that people shouldn’t use an ingredient in their own home for some abstract fear of “theft.” Instead, the question here is much less about what we do in private than what public representation does and means: if or why it matters when a white person popularizes ghee, or Nashville hot chicken becomes a big thing but the work of African-American cooks and chefs is still ignored. In the circuits of culture, there are routes to legitimacy and fame, and the problem we have in the food world is that the most reliable path seems to center whiteness again and again.”

(...)

“Thankfully, we already have one answer: Samin Nosrat. Her warmth and seemingly limitless charm, coupled with her encyclopedic knowledge of food, has endeared her to many, and her book Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat is a No. 1 New York Times best-seller that became a Netflix series. Nosrat jumps between cultural influences frequently, particularly her own Persian heritage, and her generous, open approach to both food and people has done much to expand the conversation. As Jenny G. Zhang noted on Eater, the image of Nosrat eating with gusto throughout the Netflix series changed the rules for who gets to eat on TV.

Yet Nosrat’s success isn’t only about who she is inherently, but her ability to bridge worlds, to speak about and make comprehensible to the mainstream the assumed difference of minorities and the places and cultures they come from. To paraphrase postcolonial theorist Gayatri Spivak, it’s indicative of the way in which minorities must contort themselves to ever have any power: They have to manifest it in ways recognizable to those who hold it.

The only way that changes is representation. “As long as staffs of food websites and publications are mostly white, and as long as the leadership of food websites and publications is mostly white,” Krishna says, “everything other than white food will always be seen as the other, as a museum artifact versus someone’s lived experience.””

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ocean-in-my-rebel-soul · 5 years

Text

Vignettes: Cullen and Josephine

for @elliecee and @dadrunkwriting. I hope you enjoy this rambling thing, dear!

They’ve been at odds since they met. Josephine is nearly positive that he regards her as too... young, perhaps, though he’s not got many years on her. Soft, maybe. Naive isn't the right word--she has a wealth of experience, which he seems to respect--and neither is innocent, but there is a certain... something about her that seems to irk him. Perhaps the instinct not to cleave his way through every obstacle like a Maker-damned battering ram; surely he’s never been accused of being diplomatic, or even of having a sense for handling people. No, Cullen Rutherford is a career soldier, through and through, good at command and combat and woefully lacking in key interpersonal relations skills.

She thinks him painfully obtuse and, honestly, a major source in the migraines she’s developed since joining the Inquisition. Of course, everything looks like a nail, he’s only ever known how to wield a hammer! A big, sharp, dangerous hammer. At first, Josie was glad that Leliana knew him from Before and thought that, with a common friend, she and Cullen could reach some level of friendliness in these fraught times. But oh, was she ever wrong. She has to work two jobs, now: Ambassador on behalf of the Inquisition to the rest of the world, and keeping her fellow advisors from killing each other.

(Josephine has money on Leliana; she knows which way the wind blows on this one.)

Common threads are tenuous in the beginning. They bond over a fondness for tea, particularly a smokey Nevarran blend that she first tried in Val Royeaux in an exclusive tea house, and he in Kirkwall in a rare moment of peace.

Of course, they clash over the proper sweetener. He prefers honey (”Ferelden has the finest apiaries and that’s the truth,” he insists) and she sugar (”I don’t have the time or materials right now to explain to you how wrong you are, but if you take a number I’ll get you a proper presentation.”).

They find themselves in agreement once more when it is discovered that Solas loathes tea, and they immediately become suspicious. Who could hate tea? What did it ever do to you, Solas?

”Probably keeps him awake from all his ‘fade napping’,” Cullen mutters snidely one morning at the breakfast table. “That’d explain why he can get so... sharp.”

“I think that’s the most observant thing you’ve said all week,” Leliana remarks. She snags a scone from the central basket and ‘accidentally’ knocks Cullen’s arm into his trencher. She outright ignores the glare he sends her.

Josephine tuts at the display and rearranges the dining table before reaching for the sugar bowl and finding it empty. She blinks balefully at it and also ignores Cullen, who eyes her from across the table as she contemplates the prospects of an unbalanced cup of tea.

She sighs. “Would you please pass the honey?”

Cullen smirks, just a little, his upper lip pulled askew by the scar that so neatly splits it, and slides the small pot of honey. Josephine drips a trail over her own scone first before letting herself sully her tea, but she does.

She stirs and takes a resigned sip. Cullen watches her.

Maker, she hates him. He might just be right, Fereldan honey is much better than Orlesian. Less cloying, less floral, more… robust, somehow. How, when it’s just... bee mess? What could possibly produce such a vast difference?

“And how is your tea, Lady Montilyet?” Cullen asks, all smarmy and cocksure.

She glances at him over the rim of her mug. “It’s fine,” she replies curtly, “perfectly adequate, though, like many things here, lacking in refinement.” She drains her cup and pours herself another as Leliana and Cullen snipe at each other again. Cassandra and the Inquisitor both roll their eyes and ignore the squabbling children that are their colleagues.

It’s going to be one of those days--Josephine can tell by the tension brewing behind her eyes.

She has an eye for strategy, he has to admit, though it’s a far cry from his idea of being strategic. Cullen has walked in on Josie and Cassandra or Leliana discussing options over the war table, before their scheduled meetings, and sometimes he lingers by the door, listening.

“Going through is fine and well if we want to declare ourselves brutish warlords, but if we divert our forces around,” Josephine says, and he can hear the faint scrape of a marker sliding across the map, “we can funnel our soldiers through the valley here undetected. Offer to host a ball in their hall to provide a distraction, thus establishing our relations with the ruling house, and move our troops through the edge of their territory at the same time with no one the wiser. We could even disguise some as security, with the suspected Venatori goings-on happening in that region. Honestly, it doesn’t have to be an either-or situation.”

Cullen scowls at the exasperation in Josephine’s voice.

“Hmm.” Leliana, he imagines, lurks over the table with the flinty-eyed stare she’s perfected. “I think you might be right. This is a better option.” She cackles. “I can’t wait for you to show Cullen, he’ll--”

He strides into the room, interrupting what is, without a doubt, an insult at his expense. Cassandra and Josephine jump. Leliana only crosses her arms over her chest with a smug look he’d love to wipe off her face. “Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning, Commander,” Josephine says. “We’re still waiting for the Inquisitor, I expect they’ll join us in a moment. Have you given further consideration of our options in the east?”

He makes a show of studying the war table map and, as Leliana so happily crowed, Josephine’s changes are... are quite workable, actually. “I have, and I see you have, as well.” Cullen frowns and compares the map with the details he knows. No, this will work quite well. “This is a good solution,” he says, “more smoke and mirrors than I personally prefer--”

“We know,” Leliana interrupts.

He glares at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Josephine. “But it is a good workaround, nonetheless. I would be happy to support your plan before the Inquisitor, Lady Josephine.”

She beams and relaxes, all at once far younger than she had a moment ago. It’s a good look on her.

Dorian begs out of a game with the Commander and goads Josephine into playing instead. She’s not entirely sure how she let herself be talked into it, but here they are. The garden is coming along under the Inquisitor’s loving hand and the spare time they manage, though the day to day activities are overseen by other staff.

“I didn’t know you play chess, Lady Josephine,” Cullen says, arranging the board. “When could you possibly have time for a game?”

“I haven’t since before I left Val Royeaux, unfortunately. It was a favored pastime during my tenure at court.” She smiles. Oh, how she adored Val Royeaux, with all its secrets and gossip! Of course, that fondness is a touch spoiled now, with the renunciation of the Inquisition and the reluctance for the major players to back their efforts. She’s the first to admit--sometimes the Game is a tedious, odious affair.

“My mother taught me to play when I was a child,” Josie continues, shaking her head of her errant thoughts. “She believed wholeheartedly in her children having sharp minds.”

They trade moves back and forth, feeling each other out, reluctant to capture pawns unless necessary. She slides her Revered Mother ahead and traps his king with a neat pin.

“I...” Cullen squints at the board. His hand comes up to rub nervously at his jaw. “I don’t think I... no, I believe that’s checkmate. Brava, Lady Josephine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that move.”

Josephine grins. “A trick Mamá taught me. I could show it to you again if you’d care to lose once more.”

Cullen blinks, surprised, then bursts into laughter. His smile is wide and easy, and he is the most relaxed Josie has seen him in their long months as colleagues. “You’re on,” he says and resets the board.

A tray of cookies is sent to his office every time the chef makes their all-but-famous Ferelden shortbread, courtesy of the kitchen staff on behalf of an unnamed benefactor. At first, Cullen had tried to ferret out the information, intent on thanking them himself. (And perhaps gently letting down whomever it was, if the person was some secret admirer, especially if they were among his own troops. He has no time for... things, and such a gap in authority and power dynamics would surely be immoral, among other considerations.) Unfortunately for his nerves, whoever organized such gifts has made themselves as elusive as cats in a storm. Cullen resigns himself to sharing his bounty; even if it only assuages his own sense of propriety, it still is a good deed.

He brings today’s tray to the war room, forgets something in his office, and leaves it upon the table that sits in the hallway outside Josephine’s office. He comes back and walks in to hear Josephine’s thoughtful musing as she takes a cookie.

“Hm, I thought I had asked for a single tray, not two...”

“One what? Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She chokes on a bite and frantically waves off his rush to aid her. Josephine turns and coughs, shakes her shoulders, and sets herself back to rights when she catches her breath. “Excuse all... that,” Josephine mutters. “I must have misspoken to the kitchen staff, I’ll have to remember to send another token of thanks.”

Cullen cocks his head. “About the cookies...?”

She nods. “Yes. I don’t recall asking for a second tray for myself, but I must have, seeing as they were left by my office. Hm.”

“I, oh. I had received a gift this afternoon. Well, one of a handful, as of late.” He frowns slightly as she makes a note among her papers. “Do you mean to say that you’ve been my secret cookie benefactor all this time?”

Josephine pauses in her notes and looks for all the world like a startled doe. “Oh,” she says, a soft little noise, glancing up at him. “Well. Yes.” Her dress moves in a hush against the table as she shifts. “I had thought to thank you, after something or another, and I heard they were your favorite.” Josephine scowls. “Though I’m sure that Varric was telling another of his tall tales when he said why they’re your favorite, or how he knows that fact.”

Cullen scrubs his hands down his face with a groan. “Do I want to know?” he asks, plaintive. “I’m torn. I’m honestly torn.”

“He said you took them as a bribe during your tenure in Kirkwall--”

“I did no such thing!”

“--so that Hawke and his cohort could avoid being taken to the Gallows.”

He falters. Hawke was a good man, despite being a mage, despite his being an insufferable ass--and that’s before everything happened there, in the end, with Anders and Meredith and everything else Cullen tries so hard to push away and not to let haunt him. He hadn’t officially known Hawke was an apostate for years, and by then Hawke was sure to avoid him. Cullen had been unaware that Hawke had stayed in Kirkwall until the business with the Qunari and the Arishok had come to a head, and soon after that, Meredith declared Hawke Champion of Kirkwall, rendering him nigh untouchable without risking a full-blown riot.

Had he ever received such gifts? He was in Kirkwall a good many years and was quickly promoted up the ranks to be Meredith’s rabid dog (Knight Captain, Cullen corrects himself venomously, though didn’t it amount to the same thing, all told?)...

Cullen wracks his brain, staring with growing horror at the cookies. Can he recall, truthfully, whether he would have done such a thing?

Hawke had a nasty habit of getting what he wanted, mage or not.

“I... On second thought, I cannot say whether or not that is true,” Cullen mutters. His blood runs like ice in his veins. “I... I can’t. If you’ll excuse me, I need a moment.”

He leaves Josephine in the war room, her own stunned expression a mirror of his own.

The cookies cease, and he’s never been so grateful to miss out.

A later conversation with Varric clears his name (”I said that Hawke had sent you cookies after a job with one of your boys went squirrelly and you didn’t have him thrown in prison. He was trying to thank you for saving his life, Curly!”) but the idea still haunts Cullen. It does look suspicious, didn’t it? Shouldn’t it have, if it doesn’t? He was Knight-Captain of the Gallows, by all rights he should have had Hawke taken to the Circle. But he didn’t.

He broke his oath, at any rate; whether the now-remembered gifts of cookies were a bribe or payment is a separate, but related, charge against him.

He brings the admission to the war council in a special convening. The Inquisitor pardons him with soft eyes and a quiet voice (can they do that, Cullen wonders, can they just undo years of damage he had wrought, absolve him with a single word based on his only excuse?), and he feels ashamed, the guilt a heavy yoke he will never unclasp. He begs that they give it further thought and render their decision.

“I can be ready to leave the keep in an hour, if it pleases you, Your Worship,” he offers.

Josephine follows when he bows and excuses himself from the room for their further deliberation.

“Cullen,” she calls, and he pauses, startled. It is time enough for her to catch up to him in the breezeway.

“How could you trust me, knowing that?” he asks. It comes out rough, wet, and he blinks back a sudden sheen of tears. “I was charged with a sacred duty and let myself fail in it, Josephine. What if things had gone badly and Garrett Hawke became a--a blood mage or a murderer, what then? If I had taken him in, would Kirkwall have become the mess it did? Would lives have been saved if I did my duty?”

“You were young.”

“That’s no excuse.”

Josephine’s hand reaches for his arm and he turns towards her, a little wild around the edges. She slows but continues, ultimately landing upon the cold steel of his vambrace. Her fingers trace the Templar sword that lays etched deep into the metal.

“You tried,” she says. “You... you tried, and made a decision that ultimately saved a young man’s life. Who knows what would have happened if you didn’t? We can’t know that,” she stresses when Cullen makes to protest. “What we do now is important. What you do now is important.”

Cullen forces himself to take a breath. “Did you... Did you come to a conclusion? With the Inquisitor?” Josephine nods, slowly, and he’s not sure what fate he’d prefer.

“Cassandra noted that it was a mark of compassion if it was a deliberate choice, or an unfortunate oversight if it was not, though she did so through clenched teeth. I feel she has a, hm, internal conflict in this affair.”

He snorts weakly. Cassandra and the Inquisitor have been making cow eyes at each other from across every table since she released them from their shackles at Haven; she puts herself and her shield between them and danger, and they raise barriers over her and throw fireballs at all who would dare to bear arms against Cassandra. They hadn’t spoken of it, to his knowledge, or at least hadn’t gone public with any relationship if they had, but it was none of his business in the first place.

“They really are something.” Cullen wipes away a frustrated tear. “My apologies,” he mutters, turning away to dry his face. “And Leliana?”

“She was, perhaps, the most surprised. Leliana will never be your best friend or staunchest supporter, but she does not demand your head on a pike, so take that as you will.”

They quiet. A breeze whistles through the open wall, ruffling the fabric of her skirt. He bites his lip.

“And you?” Cullen finally asks. “What is your opinion, Lady Montilyet?”

She hesitates and his stomach plummets.

“I think,” she starts, “I think you were in a position to make a choice, and you did. And it ultimately saved Serah Hawke’s life and spared him from the Gallows, and he went on to defeat the Arishok and stemmed the tide of the Qunari invasion.”

“You think the ends justify the means?”

“I think you beat yourself up about this to an unreasonable extent. It was years ago. Yes,” she concedes, “it might look askew if it got out, but even if it did, we can handle it. Hawke is a personal friend of Varric, who sits in the Inquisitor’s confidence. Even Cassandra thinks highly of the Champion and his heroic deeds, and she’s a Seeker.”

Josephine pauses and shuffles on her feet. “I think you made a decision that likely was the best at the time, given what I now know. And that Hawke, despite all accounts saying he was a horrible baker, had made cookies for you that were delivered to your office. And that you likely enjoyed them in private, since any answer as to where they came from would be suspect. Who could begrudge a man a touch of home while he is away? I don’t think you were wrong, Cullen,” Josephine says. “What is right and what is lawful are not always the same things.”

Cullen purses his lips, biting them to assuage his worry. “I forgot,” he admits, “that there was a time when I knew who Hawke was before his magehood was a common fact. Kirkwall was a mess, even before the—” he trails off and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Before everything. There was always so much to be done, and the Gallows… I didn’t see it then. I didn’t want to see it then, but it was a… it was a prison, truly, even more so than Circles must be. It didn’t care that any man or woman or child could have been good and lawful. They all could have been exemplary people, but for the circumstance of their birth, and it wouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t matter. It just broke everyone down, and I had a hand in it. Both hands, even.”

Josephine doesn’t interrupt, only makes soft noises that punch like any tavern brawler. Cullen walks the short distance to the wall on wobbly legs and leans against the stone’s strength. The words tumble from him unbidden, like a font built up, pressure spilling from every crack in his foundation.

“I can’t remember if they were a bribe or a gift, those cookies. They had come for months, and I can’t recall if they’d had a note or anything, and I can’t--I can’t say it wasn’t. I can’t say that I had simply overlooked the use of magic, that I was distracted, that I failed to do my due diligence. He had helped me and my men--had even rescued a recruit from the thrall of blood magic, and later advocated for his job security when I was fully prepared to not give the lad a chance, just in case. Did I deliberately put Kirkwall at risk? I don’t know. I don’t know, Josephine, and I am afraid.”

“It is in the past,” she says. “You have to decide what you will learn from this, and how you will move forward.”

He can’t look at her. He can’t look at her, he, the Commander of the Inquisition, offered this power and authority built on the lawful crimes he had witnessed and committed against the people he was supposed to protect. Templars were supposed to help, and he wanted to--Maker, how he wanted to, and Andraste save him, he thought he was.

That, perhaps, is the worst about it, how mindless he was to his own rage and pain. He sees now how Knight-Commander Meredith had manipulated his fears, but that he went along with her madness for years will never be absolved.

“Thank you,” he mutters. “It doesn’t sound like the Inquisitor has changed their mind, then.”

“No, they haven’t. You are still welcome to reside as the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. And I hope you do.”

“Do you, then?”

Josephine steps closer, not touching but deliberately halving the meager distance between them, and he feels compelled to look up at the gentle smile that graces her face. “I would hate to have to find a new chess partner,” she offers shyly.

He snorts at that and rakes his palm over his face. “I would, too.” Josephine’s smile grows and Cullen can’t help but answer it in kind.

===

Originally posted to my Patreon. Like this piece? Get early access to fics and special prompt fills for as little as $1!

Reblogs and comments/likes are welcome and wholly appreciated!

#Dragon Age: Inquisition #Cullen Rutherford #Josephine Montilyet #DA:I #DAI #Cullen x Josephine #Cullen & Josephine #Soulrebel writes #not necessarily shippy but easily could be the beginning of something #vignettes #ish #reblogs welcome and appreciated!#prompt fills #da drunk writing circle

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crimson-thorns · 6 years

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Friday was my birthday! I’m old now and boring, so luckily I have friends who aren’t~ One of my friends created a little RP narrative for me and emailed it to me saying that the kids at the Treasury daycare had decided it was “Saachi Day” and drew her pictures, put on a performance, and wrote songs for her. Two of Saachi’s retainers are reformed bandits that she gave work to after she determined that they really did want to stop being bandits and they, Conrad and Jeremias, also wrote her letters. Conrad is a very sweet, but a bit dense, cutie. Jeremias is more introspective and carries a bit more guilt. Their letters to her reflect this really well! It was a really thoughtful gift! With her permission, I’m putting here too. “The children of the Treasury unanimously decided that, even though Saachi isn't their mother, she should have a special day too. And so they came to celebrate Saachi's Day. Celebrated in much the traditional Mother's Day manner, with flowers picked from her own garden, and badly burned breakfast foods hinting at a kitchen left in a seemingly impossible disarray. Many children drew Saachi pictures. Two little girls put on a musical performance they had been practicing just for Saachi. Others wrote messages, poems, or songs. Even the staff got involved.

Dear Saachi,

Hi! This is from Conrad. I want you to know that the children wanted to teach the chocobos to sing you a special song for your birthday. I think that would be very nice, but I also thought that the children not being kicked or trampled by scared or upset chocobos would also be good. They wanted to buy you a bird that already knew how to sing, but they couldn't agree on what kind of bird, or what color, or what song they should sing, or anything! I didn't think you would want to make a bird sing a certain kind of song, it might get bored of that song, even if it was very nice. A bird should sing its own song is what I was thinking. So what we did was make a bunch of bird feeders and hang them all around the Treasury and the Brimming Heart so that everywhere you go you can hear birds singing whatever they want to sing to you! That makes me want to sing, too, even though I'm shy to do it still. So maybe I'll just hum along for now, if that would be okay.

I like you very much every day, but today I wrote a letter to tell you that! Conrad

To Saachi From Akihiko

You are nice I like you more than rice You never fail You make me want to swing my tail

Saachi, The kids told me I should write you a letter to thank you for all the wonderful things you've done. I couldn't agree with them more. Frankly, I'm embarrassed I haven't done so already. Without the prompting of children. I know I've said the words "thank you," but I don't know if I have managed to fully get that point across. How could I have? How many people get a literal second chance on life? You could have ended me where I stood. No one would have mourned me. The world would have been a better place without my selfish actions. I was a desperate man, but since I've come to this city, you and your friends have opened my eyes. There are many desperate men, but not all of them prey on those weaker than them. Sorry, I didn't mean to dwell on negative things.What I meant to say is that you gave me a chance. You brought me into your home. Trusted me to be near the children under your protection, children more precious than any other wealth in the city. Those children are under my protection now, too, for whatever little that may be worth. I'll weed the gardens and paint the shingles and mend the leaky roof until my dying day if you'll have me do it. But this was supposed to be about you, and the things that you do, not me. You make people smile. You show them it's okay to laugh or cry. So many people won't do either, and I think it kills them inside. I still find it hard, but you make it easier. You make life in general a little easier. But first you make it hard, and that's a good thing. When you told me what would not be tolerated I believed it. The children fuss when you're firm with them, but I know they appreciate it, too. You're a good role model to young and old. I look up to you more than I can say. It's right that you should have a day where you're honored. The children showed wisdom in coming to that conclusion. Unlike the au ra child who just took a bite of a crayon when he thought no one was looking. I was looking. In the interest of protecting both the child and the now lessened crayon supply I will close. Thank you for being you, Saachi. And thank you for giving me a chance to be me. And to find out what exactly that can mean.Gratefully, Jeremias Dear Miss Saachi, Thank you for taking care of us and feeding us cookies! I love cookies and I love you! From Rerekuto PS can I have another cookie? Saachi I climbed up a fencepost Saachi I climbed up a tree Saachi I'd climb to the top of the world If you'd read a story to me. -An unnamed poem by Doerrael Saachi, yeah Saachi! You are a woman who is strong! And your hair is long! Saachi, yeah Saachi! You are good, and your boots go clomp! And sometimes Stomp! I like chocolate milk. It's good. Like this song about Saachi, Saachi, yeah, Saachi, YEAH! "The Saachi Song", by Evaldaline, trainscr transcryb written down by Conrad

#Saachi day #Birthday gift #Treasury #Conrad #Jeremias #Daycare #Art #FFXIV #Gilgamesh

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buttsonthebeach · 7 years

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River

Pairings: Solavellan, very minor Adoribull, and OC x OC (oh! and briefly mentioned Maevaris Tilani x Unnamed Husband)

Rating: Teen? I guess? For implied shenanigans? Nothing serious.

Note: Solas and Ellana’s twenty-year-old daughter has a (human Tevene) boyfriend and Solas is being a grump about it. Ellana decides to finally confront him. Humor and some sweet feels ensue.

This is a deleted scene from the epilogue of Awakened, so it does contain some spoilers for that fic. You can just read it as random grumpy dad!Solas fluff without further context and be fine.

****

Ellana never thought that fruit preserves would play an important role in her life, but a week into their family stay at Dorian and Bull’s villa, that opinion was rapidly changing.

The problem wasn’t so much the preserves as it was Lucius and Ashara and the preserves, and the fact that the two were very obviously coming down from the same room together each morning, and the fact that whenever they passed the preserves their fingers brushed, or that sometimes Ashara tried to keep the preserves from Lucius so he would have to put his arms around her in an effort to steal them back. But it really came to a head on the morning when Ashara got some of the preserves on the corner of her mouth, and Lucius reached out and wiped them away with his thumb, and their eyes met and Ashara blushed just enough that Solas finally stood and left the table.

As he seemed tempted to every morning that week.

Dorian laughed until he had to put his cup of tea down.

So, really, the problem was between the preserves and Ashara and Lucius and Solas, and Dorian wasn’t helping, and Ellana wasn’t sure who to scold first.

“What?” Ashara kept asking. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“What’s so funny is seeing the Dread Wolf himself, creator of the Veil, rebel god, acting like a child. Maker, his face. Do you think you two could do that again at dinner?”

Now Ashara was really blushing. Lucius wasn’t looking up from his plate.

“Hush, Dorian. Solas isn’t the only one acting like a child,” Ellana said at last, though there was little heat in her voice.

It was unseasonably warm, so they made plans to go to the nearby river later in the day when it got too hot for anything else. There was some scrambling for appropriate swimming clothes for everyone to wear - Ellana joked about swimming nude, which won her a scandalized look from her own daughter - and then it was time to go through the kitchen and see what they could pack. She found Solas in there, seated on a low bench, rewrapping the leather straps that protected his staff.

“Please tell me you aren’t planning on using that on anyone in particular,” she said.

“What?” he replied, distant.

“I take it you’re over your display at breakfast, then?”

“Display? I was simply done with my meal.”

Ellana rolled her eyes, though he didn’t look up to see it. She was holding the plate with the remains of his breakfast in her hand. If he didn’t feel like acknowledging what was going on, she didn’t feel like pressing at the moment.

“There are plans to go down to the river. Will you come?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. This has been an awful lot of socializing for you, this past week. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to spend a little quiet time alone.”

“I will be fine, vhenan.”

She set down his plate and ran her hand along his shoulder on her way to see what they could pack. The corners of his mouth lifted in response to her slight touch and he looked up at last. So he wasn’t in a completely foul mood - at least not anymore.

She managed to catch Ashara alone before they left for the river to speak to her about it.

“You know, you might save a little more of your affection for Lucius when you are alone,” she said when they were waiting for the others to be ready.

“I’m sorry,” Ashara said. She fiddled with the clothes she’d borrowed from Maevaris’s older daughter. They did sit strangely on her narrower frame. “Have we been bad? We didn’t mean to. It’s just…”

“No, da’vhenan. You haven’t done anything terribly wrong. I know that restraint is hard when you’re in those first stages of love. I only wanted to point it out to you. You might want to consider that there are other people around you who might not - appreciate the displays of affection.”

“You mean Papae,” she said flatly, her blue eyes narrowing.

“Yes.”

“He’s being ridiculous.”

“And this surprises you?”

Ashara snorted. “Not really. It’s just - we only have a few more days here, then Lucius goes back to Minrathous and we go back to Enasan. I don’t really want to spend that time worrying about what Papae thinks.”

“Fair enough. I’ll talk to him, if you’ll promise not to try and irritate him.”

“I’m never irritating,” Ashara said, lifting her chin with a comical superiority.

“Yes,” Ellana said dryly. “And I’m the queen of Antiva.”

In retrospect, Ellana might have done well to speak to Lucius, as well. She would hardly have thought it necessary. He was a kind, even-tempered young man - a good balance to Ashara’s flurries of feeling and action. He watched her with a bemused adoration as she went on about whatever thought had popped into her mind. He teased her gently when she started to take something too seriously.

He was also the one who picked Ashara up and threw her straight into the river not long after they arrived.

“What’s the matter?” He said as she walked back up the bank towards him, drenched and furious. The loose clothing she’d borrowed from Mae’s daughter was plastered to her every curve and angle now. “Didn’t you spend the entire walk here claiming it was better to go in all at once? That the shock to the body is actually healthy according to several studies conducted at the University of Orlais?”

“You -” Ashara sputtered. “That was -”

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen you speechless before, Ash,” Lucius said with a chuckle. He snuck an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She put up only a token resistance. “Maybe I should throw you in there again.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Ashara said, pushing him back.

It led, predictably, to a bout of chasing around the waterline, and though soon they weren’t the only ones involved, when Ellana looked for Solas she saw that he had already moved further down the river from everyone, and was watching with a scowl. While Dorian and Bull lounged and Mae and her husband began setting out the food, Ellana decided to join her bond mate, and finally deal with things head on.

“All right,” Ellana said when she reached him, sitting down in the sand beside him. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?” he said.

“How irritated you are with them,” she said, nodding towards the ongoing display. Ashara and Lucius had separated from the others, even their friend Claudia. It was just the two of them now, crossing a sandbank to the other side of the river, hands loosely linked. “We’ve danced around it long enough. Just admit it. You hate that she’s found a lover. You hate that they’re running about the villa every day hand in hand stealing kisses when they think no one’s looking and that they’re clearly sleeping in the same room.”

“It is not that at all.”

He was indignant, and in denial, and there was a time that might have irritated her - his constant obstinance. There would surely be times in the future when it still would. But she had a feeling she knew what he needed now, so she simply leaned against him.

“Well then - enlighten me. What is it, exactly? Why can you barely seem to stand the sight of them?”

Solas flicked away a leaf that had fallen into his lap, harder than necessary.

“He calls her Ash. We gave her a beautiful name full of meaning and promise and he reduces it to a single mispronounced symbol that means only death and destruction in the human tongue.”

Ellana snorted, considered making a comment about human tongues, and thought better of it.

“Is that all?”

“He is intelligent enough but too quiet. He cannot possibly challenge her the way she deserves.” There was more heat in his voice now.

“And?”

“And he should not be encouraging these - displays. He is old enough to know better than to behave like this in public. And for that matter, he is too old for her.”

She had to laugh at that and look him in the eye now. “Oh, really? Remind me - did we ever figure out exactly how old you are compared to me? Even setting aside your actual age, you didn’t seem to have any issues pretending to be a man in his forties pursuing a woman in her late twenties. He’s only five years older than her.”

He did blush and press his lips together at that. It made him look younger. “That was different. You were - older. In many ways. Ashara is still a child.”

A shout drew their attention and Ellana saw that Ashara had successfully pushed Lucius into the river at last. She was bent double on the opposite shore, laughing, her dark hair still dripping around her face. And - she had to admit, it was strange to think of the daughter who climbed chairs in search of sweets to steal or begged her father to do one more little spell before bedtime now that Ashara was so tall, and now that Lucius who was taller still was coming towards her, clearly ready to scoop her back into his arms, wet clothes and all.

“She isn’t,” Ellana said. “Not really.”

Solas sighed and his face twisted back into a pained expression. He dug his feet deeper into the sand. “I cannot make myself accept that. I fear - I fear above all else that he will hurt her. Child or no, she is too young, too curious about the world and everything in it, for this to end well. I cannot begrudge him his human birth - but you know that alone will cause problems, before the end. I can only see that, when I look at them. The pain.”

Ellana looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment, she felt the weight of his head on top of hers.

“You are allowed to worry about her,” she said. “We both are.”

Lucius had put Ashara back down by that point. Claudia crossed the sandback to join them, the youngest of Mae’s children in tow. Ashara turned to them, shading her eyes against the sun and keeping her other arm tight around Lucius’s waist. She was saying something, but Ellana couldn’t make out the words. She felt a sudden rush instead: the person she’d known from the inside first, as stray flutters and kicks and sleepless, painful nights, was whole and grown and out in the world and she was a good person who drew other good people to her, and she was loved.

“We did well, you know,” Ellana said, though it was hard to get the words out. Solas was still, and then he moved so he could wrap his arm all the way around her shoulders and kiss her forehead.

“We did.”

They sat together on the warm, coarse sand and watched their daughter across the river as she laughed and ran in the shallow water. Ashara didn’t turn to see them until some time later, and by then almost all of the tension had ebbed from Solas’s shoulders, and the smile and wave he offered her in return was genuine. By the next morning his lips were pursed again at the sight of them, swanning down the stairs arm and arm, but Ellana just shook her head at him and smiled. He did offer to show Lucius what he meant about casting barriers later that afternoon, after all - and Ellana was well versed, by now, in watching small seeds take root and grow.

#solavellan fanfic #dad solas fic #ellana lavellan #ashara lavellan #lucius talvas #awakened #my writing #fluff #humor #have i mentioned lately how terrible i am at titles?#because i am

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charllieeldridge · 4 years

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Psarou Beach Zakynthos: A Quieter Beach Town

The sandy cove of Psarou Beach Zakynthos was awarded the Blue Flag for cleanliness for 10 years until 2018, but still, it’s not as developed as the more tourist drawcard southern beach towns of Laganas and the Vasilikos Peninsula.

About Psarou Beach

Psarou Beach (often thought of together with the nearby town of Ammoudi) is a quiet place to stay on Zakynthos Island, with a nice location that’s walkable to the more popular town of Alykes.

Thanks to its former Blue Flag status, it does appear on most tourists lists of the must-visit beaches on Zakynthos, but it’s definitely not a visually striking as Gerakas or Navagio and doesn’t appear on many lists of the best beaches in Greece (including ours).

Unfortunately, Psarou Beach along with many other beaches in Zakynthos and Kefalonia lost their Blue Flag rating in 2018.

According to the Greek News: “The EEPF said that the unannounced inspections revealed that coastal managers had failed to maintain the required cleanliness of the beaches, protect the environment and provide the necessary information, services and safety measures to bathers.”

That doesn’t mean that the beach is now “dirty”. The sand is still spotless and the water is crystal clear for swimming. Perhaps they’ll regain their status soon.

The town itself has a population of approximately 191 people, but this number grows exponentially when tourists descend on the tiny island in the high-season summer months of July and August.

Other Popular Places in Zakynthos

Gerakas Beach

Navagio Beach

Laganas Beach

Zante Town

Banana Beach

Porto Azzuro

Porto Limnionas

Keri

Alykes

Xigia Beach

Tsilivi Beach

Where is Psarou Beach?

Not to be confused with the more popular Psarou Beach in Mykonos, Psarou Beach Zakynthos is a quiet, undeveloped beach town on Zakynthos Island in the Ionian Sea of Greece.

The island of Zakynthos is just 405 kilometres² (156 miles²) and is located 20 kilometres west of the westernmost point of mainland Greece and 249 kilometres west of the capital of Athens. In our opinion, this is one of the best places to visit in Greece.

Psarou Beach itself is wedged between the more popular beach towns of Alykes and Tsilivi and about 12 kilometres north of the capital of the island, Zante Town.

How To Get To Psarou Beach

Because of its close proximity to Alykes Beach, some people choose to walk to and from the more popular town to visit Psarou Beach Zakynthos as part a day out.

The best way to get to the beach if you’re staying on other parts of the island is to rent a car. Renting a car is the best way to see Zakynthos in general and because rental cars are quite affordable (prices start at around €15 / day), it’s usually cheaper to rent a car and explore rather than joining a tour around the island.

You can also rent a boat in Zakynthos and if you rent it from Zante Town or another east coast destination, you can most likely drive the boat around the bay until you reach Psarou Beach.

There are also public buses that run to most destinations on the island. The best way to catch the bus is to head to nearby Alykes and catch the bus from the main road there. All public buses originate in Zante Town and run loops around the island including these destinations:

Argassi – Xirokastelo – Vassilikos – Porto Roma – Tsilivi – Planos – Tragaki – Kipseli – Alykanas – Alykes – Katastari – Orthonies – Anafonitria – Volimes – Exo Hora – Kambi – Agios Leon – Agios Nikolaos – Machairado – Galaro – Gyri – Keri – Agalas – Lithakia – Laganas.

Because public buses don’t run all that often, you’ll have to check with your hotel or apartment owner to ask when the bus will arrive in Psarou. Buses are often delayed and can be frustrating to catch, which is why we recommend renting a car.

Best Time To Visit Psarou Beach Zakynthos

The Best Time of Day To Visit Psarou Beach

If you’re going to come to Psarou Beach as part of a day trip then I’d recommend coming in the middle of the day when the sun is directly overhead, giving the Ionian waters here an electric blue hue.

This is also a decent place to come for sunrise as at certain times of the year you can see the sun coming up over the headland. If you want to visit a place for sunset, then your best option will be from a restaurant on the Keri Cliffs in Keri Town on the west coast.

The Best Time Of Year to Visit Psarou Beach

The best time to visit Zakynthos and Psarou Beach is the same as the best time to visit Greece which is basically any time between March and Mid-November.

In March – April and October – November the sea can be a bit too chilly for a swim, which is why I recommend coming no earlier than April and no later than October if you want to have a beach holiday.

We’ve always visited Zakynthos and Greece in May and we find it to be the perfect time when the sea is warm, the skies are clear and there aren’t too many crowds. One of the best things to do in Greece is enjoying the beaches, so you probably want to plan your trip accordingly.

The Type of Sand on Psarou Beach

The sand on Psarou Beach Zakynthos is sandy and soft, which can’t always be said about beaches in the Ionian Sea. Many other beaches on Zakynthos Island (including the famous Navagio Beach) have pebbly sand that is uncomfortable to walk on with bare feet.

Not Psarou Beach. It’s soft, white sand and you won’t need to wear water shoes here.

Facilities on Psarou Beach

There are some beach chairs and umbrellas on Psarou Beach Zakynthos but those that you see when walking along the beach are reserved for guests of the apartments and resorts that line the sand.

Similarly, if you want to use the toilets you’ll have to be a customer of one of the taverns or beach bars. There are also no watersports here.

Basically the facilities on Psarou Beach in Zakynthos are lacking quite a bit, but that’s part of what makes this quiet cove so attractive for those looking for a quieter place to relax on the sand.

Where To Stay Near Psarou Beach

While there aren’t as many options here as nearby Alykes or Tsilivi, you can still find some decent apartments and small guest houses for rent in the town of Psarou and Amoudi. Here are some of the top recommended places:

Katarina Rooms

Méson Yerakaríon, Meson Yerakarion, 29100, Greece ★ 9.6/10 (100 Reviews)

Rooms From €60/night

This is where we chose to stay in Psarou and we loved it. These super-modern looking little places offer great value for money. While I’ve quoted the average high-season price above, we were able to get these for nearly half of that in the shoulder-season (May) so look out for nice discounts when you’re out of peak times.

The family that runs this place is so friendly and even though it doesn’t state it in the listing, on many mornings the Greek owner brought us delicious breakfast. She was a sweetheart and really made us feel like part of the family.

The outside of Katerina Rooms in Psarou

Click Here to see prices for Katarina Rooms on Booking.com

Paradisso Beach Villas

Katastari, Amoudi, 29100, Greece ★ 9.9/10 (19 Reviews)

Rooms From €150/night

The villa complex here boasts three elegantly appointed villas which are all inspired by classic Ionian architecture and interior design. They have fantastic views out to the sea and are surrounded by lush gardens.

Click Here to see prices for Paradisso Beach Villas on Booking.com

Calypso Villas

Katastari, Amoudi, 29100, Greece ★ 9.4/10 (16 Reviews)

Rooms From €150/night

These luxurious and stylish villas are set on the perfect location with free parking overlooking the gorgeous Ammoudi Beach. Each villa is individually designed with Ionian style in mind and is surrounded by lush gardens. They are all one-bedroom accommodations but thanks to extra beds and pullout couches, some of them can accommodate up to 6 guests.

Click Here to see prices for Calypso Villas on Booking.com

Psarou Studios

Katastari, Amoudi, 29100, Greece ★ 9.3/10 (56 Reviews)

Rooms From €45/night

This is a great place for families and couples with a lovely location overlooking the sea. This family-run hotel is set right on the beach and has a complex consisting of units with basic kitchens. There’s a children’s playground on-site and there’s also a great Greek taverna.

Click Here to see prices for Psarou Studios on Booking.com

Best Restaurants Near Psarou Beach

Even though this isn’t one of the most popular places for tourists, there are surprisingly some of the best restaurants and tavernas located within a 10 minute drive to Psarou Beach Zakynthos and one is set right on the sand. Here are our top choices for restaurants nearby:

Taverna Psarou

Unnamed Road, Psarou 291 00, Greece ★ 4.4/5 (36 Reviews)

Mains from €8

This place has friendly staff, incredible food and you really can’t beat the location. There’s nothing like watching the sunset over Zakaynthos while drinking a delicious glass of red wine and hearing the Ionian Sea lap the sand just a few meters away. This was one of the best restaurants in Zakynthos in our opinion and having sunset dinner here is one of the best things to do on the island as well.

Lofos Restaurant

Unnamed Rd, Meso Gerakari 291 00, Greece ★ 4.7/5 (313 Reviews)

Mains from €7

This is without a doubt our favourite little taverna in Zakynthos. It was actually recommended to us from the friendly Greek family who own Katarina Rooms (the apartment where we stayed) and it didn’t disappoint.

It’s unique because unlike so many taverns we went to while on Zakynthos, Lofos Restaurant wasn’t on the beach. Instead, it’s set on a tall mountain about 3 kilometres (10-minute drive) from Psarou town. The views from the veranda here are amazing and the food and service are as well.

Amoudi Restaurant

Αμμουδι/ανω γερακαρι, Ζακυνθος 291 00, Greece ★ 4.7/5 (90 Reviews)

Mains from €9

This place is actually on Amoudi Beach about a 10-minute walk from Psarou Beach but it’s definitely worth a visit. The prices here are quite a bit higher than Taverna Psarou, but it also has a more luxurious looking setting. Two people can still eat dinner here with a couple of non-alcoholic drinks for under €30, so it’s still not expensive, but a good option if you’ve already been to Taverna Psarou.

Kritamo

Unnamed Road, Psarou 291 00, Greece ★ 4.3/5 (122 Reviews)

Mains from €9

This is another place on Amoudi Beach (there are a few more options on this north side of Psarou) and offers up some decent traditional Greek fare. You can’t miss this place as there are signs for it all over Amoudi and Psarou.

Should You Go To Psarou Beach?

Psarou Beach may not be a tourist hot spot like Laganas and Tsilivi, but if you’re looking for a (much) quieter type of beach holiday, then this place could be for you.

The town doesn’t have much going on so if you chose to stay here for multiple nights, you’ll probably end up heading to Tsilivi or Alykes for some of your meals and for some easy nearby day trips, but overall it’s still a great area to stay.

We chose to stay here because of it’s off-track and traditional Greek feel and we weren’t disappointed. We loved it most for the clear water and the delicious Taverna Psarou but would’ve probably stayed longer if the beach had some umbrellas and sunbeds for rent. Instead, we used it as a great base to visit the rest of the island.

Either way, it’s definitely worth at least a visit on your itinerary in Zakynthos Island.

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forestiyari · 7 years

Text

Life In Plan (1/2)

A Captain Swan Modern AU

Rating: T

Summary:

She’s 16 when he catches her, and their life goes on from there.

Disclaimer: None of the OUAT world belongs to me.

Although I’m not posting I have four WIPs that are taunting me. This is me sitting down at 3:30am and saying “ignore them, just write something- anything”.

And I swear- despite appearances, this is Captain Swan, it’s not Liemma.

Part 2 will be posted later in the week.

Also on

AO3

Life In Plan

She's 16 when he catches her.

"Bad form, Lass. Take that out of your pocket and put it back on the shelf." His hand on Emma's arm, grip tight- there's no chance of escape and his voice- low, commanding... Dangerous- brokers no room for argument... "Now." Reluctantly she curls her fingers around the pilfered candy bars and withdraws her hand from her pocket, briefly considering throwing them in his face to try and escape, but his hold on her is so solid she doubts it's an option.

He must be new here- the ill-fitted uniform marking him as a member of staff, but his accent decidedly foreign. He's older than her, but not by much, and obviously much more observant than the other youths that work here- it's the first time in three months she's been caught. Emma replaces the chocolate on the shelf, ignoring the pang of hunger that runs through her before meeting his gaze defiantly- challenging him to make his next move.

"There,” A smile washes over his face and his grip relaxes, although he doesn't remove his hand completely. "Was that so hard?"

"Yes." She bites back, determined not to agree with a word he says.

"Tell me Lass, at the end of the day, when stock goes missing, who do you think gets the blame? Whose wages get docked?" He raises his eyebrows in question, obviously expecting her to answer- but it's honestly not something she's thought about before... It's not like she steals for profit.

"Tell me Boy," Her lips curl back, a snarl in place, "Where else is my meal coming from?" Emma gets the desired response- he jerks back, surprised, and she's free. Because she's learned recently that no one expects a pretty blonde in glasses to be homeless, to be a runaway- and defying expectations gains her an advantage. She should be running now, she knows this- the second his hand was off her arm she should have been gone- but now she wants an answer from him.

He regains his composure slowly, straightens up and extends a hand. She looks down on it, bewildered, because just what is she supposed to do with that? It takes a few moments to realise he's expecting to shake her hand.

"Liam Jones, at your service."

"Emma Swan. Whatever."

***

The next night she avoids the convenience store and heads uptown to the soup kitchen. She hates it there- with the suspicious eyes and roaming hands and social workers it reminds her too much of the group homes she's experienced, but she can't go any longer without food and the warmth and shelter it provides is a nice distraction for a while.

It's late- too late for any real food to be left- when she sees him enter. Liam Jones, the boy from last night and for a fleeting crazy moment she imagines he's here for her- but no one comes for her, she learnt that long ago. She can see his uniform collar peeking out from beneath the oversized knitted sweater he wears as he shuffles to the end of the line, accepting the dregs of stew with a small smile meant to appease the over-enthusiastic do-gooder that serves him without inviting conversation.

She waits for him to leave then follows him, curious. He walks for what seems like miles- away from the convenience store and her usual haunts- before furtively climbing through a broken basement window.

Dawn is threatening and she considers... Stupid... She's so far from "home" she won't make it back in time to sleep before the rush hour traffic makes it impossible and she knows her only real option is to take a leap of faith- to trust Liam on his pledge.

At your service

To say he's surprised when she lands beside him is an understatement, but after a long gaze and a nod he settles back down on his side. Wordlessly she mirrors him, their backs not quite touching.

***

She's 17 when he saves her.

Because this was never really what she planned to do, but just walking by isn't a commitment and considering doesn't mean deciding.

And she's not really a virgin anyway- not since Mr Fowler and his son's education back in eighth grade.

"What the hell were you doing on Hazel, Emma?" He doesn't shout and she really wishes he would- because she can deal with anger, with violence- but this silent, stubborn, disappointed rage she has no idea what to do with. It's the kind of anger that implies caring and emotion and she's never been good at that.

Never had a chance to be.

"I wasn't on Hazel." She lies, knows that he sees straight through it with the flash that shoots through his eyes, and some complicated unnamed part of her rushes to clarify. "I mean... I walked down Hazel, but I wasn't "on" Hazel. Not in that way." And she wasn't. Not yet. She hadn't decided yet.

"Emma..." The relief in his face is evident, but he's no fool. "I swear, if I find you're turning tricks..." He grinds out the words through gritted teeth and she can't stop the anger from rising.

"You'll do what Liam?" The words slap him sharply and she sees the hard edge run from his eyes, replaced by something more... Desperate.

"Just please, Emma. Not you. Come to me first."

***

They're not always in each other's lives.

Liam works every shift he can at the convenience store and around the holidays picks up extra at the factories- she's not sure how he manages it- knows that somehow he must have a bank account, some papers.

Emma cleans occasionally- cash in hand from the nicer neighbourhoods- but only enough to get her through a few weeks' meals at a time.

She lives in the moment while he saves.

They've spoken enough for her to grasp why- to understand there's a brother he wants to provide for, wants to rescue and bring to The States. She knows he's younger, knows Liam truly believes he can do it- save enough for an apartment, a flight, a visa. Emma wishes she could believe in anything the way that Liam believes in his plan.

But for the moment it's nice to know that there's always a solid back she can sleep against should she need it.

She doesn't need it.

***

She's 18 when he rescues her.

When Emma and Neal's Bonnie and Clyde adventure stutters to a halt at a roadside, The Bug tired of running on fumes and steam pouring from the undercarriage. She walks a mile back along the way they came to the payphone, praying Liam still works the midday shift and his manager will let him take a call. He does, he will.

But when she gets back to where she started there's no yellow VW waiting, no Neal with open arms and an easy smile.

Somehow Liam gets the bus driver to stop in the middle of nowhere to pick her up. She has no idea how, too out of it to really care. She's sunburnt and sore and goddamn heartbroken.

And that's before she realises she's pregnant.

Liam never judges, never really says a word about it.

He contacts the social workers, lets her hate him just a bit for that.

He takes the looks, the comments in his stride- lets everyone believe that it's his fault, that he was irresponsible enough to knock up the teenager he's living rough with- just another pair of runaway statistics.

He brings her the adoption papers, reads then through, tells her where to sign, lets her love him just a bit for that.

Then it's over.

The baby's gone and it's just Emma and Liam again. Except it's not. Because he's almost done it, he says; almost has the deposit for an apartment and enough rent saved up to make it a viable option.

And she loves him for it, she really does, is so happy for him.

But then there's the reason she went off with Neal in the first place- because she doesn't belong in that world. The world of apartments and steady income- that's life stuff and Emma Swan... She doesn't have a life, she has the here and now... Anything beyond that is a bonus.

***

Emma drifts for what seems forever.

She knows that theft isn't a way of life. She as good as promised Liam she wouldn't turn tricks. The gangs are easy to get into but impossible to get out of. She can pull off the confidence tricks but the victims leave her feeling... Dirty...

Emma doesn't have a plan.

Emma doesn't have parents or a GED or transferable skills.

Emma has a rucksack of clothes, a library card and three stretchmarks that refuse to fade.

Emma has Liam, she knows she does... But Liam doesn't need Emma.

***

She's 20 when he inspires her.

"Emma, how hard is it to find a missing person, d'you reckon?" He asks. It's winter and the window of the room he's renting doesn't close properly- the draft meaning they huddle on the bed in beanies and gloves. And she knows it's a rung on the ladder of his plan but apart from the mattress being dry she doesn't see much improvement over the basement they've squatted in for free for years.

"What sort of missing person?" She responds with trepidation... Because she's spent too many hours at the library looking for any clue as to her parents' whereabouts and probably just as many looking into the history he doesn't tell her. She's gotten pretty good at computers.

"You remember that guy Rick that I work with?"

"The one who thought buying me McDonalds made us an item?" She clarifies with a raised eyebrow- because they've laughed way too much over that fiasco.

"The very same." He grins back at her, not at all ashamed of having allowed her to defend her own honour, deleting the CCTV footage of her 'assault' now that he has managerial responsibilities. "He hasn't shown up for work the past three days, which isn't unusual, but..."

"Doesn't he owe you money?"

"$400 advance on his wages- out of my pocket."

"How much do I get if I find him?" She asks and he grins.

"$100."

"$250."

"$150."

"Done." They shake and the following day Emma has a small fortune in her pocket.

***

Emma's good at finding people.

Really good.

She gets it now- the planning, because when she brings in her first skip and is looking at the cash in her hands there's too much there to not plan.

She could survive for a year on that pay check.

Or she could start living.

And after the third skip she brings it up with Liam- because comparatively there's not that much difference between a one-bed and a two-bed apartment in a nice enough area. So that summer they move in and she has a room, a closet, a bed. They share a kitchen and a television.

At first she can't believe the bills, but it doesn't take that long to get used to.

Their apartment, their things, their life.

***

She's 21 when he breaks her heart.

"I bought Killian a plane ticket- he'll be here on Thursday."

#CS fic #cs ff #cs au #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan fic #liam x emma brotp #forestry

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