#and its apparent moral of 'if you get handed a super important item that you have to take care of dont bring it with you when exploring'

[imaginepostingonmain]

FITCHERS BIRD THAT WAS THE ONE I WAS THINKING OF

[ask-purpled-and-blued]

Vigilante

Not once has Purpled ever called himself a hero.

He wants that on record, wants to say it up front. He’s never had any delusions about what he is and what he’s doing.

He doesn’t have the license for it, doesn’t have the morals for it. He’s not even saving that many people.

He’s just some kid running around in pro hero cosplay with his shoddy homemade support gear.

So riddle him this: why the fuck is his vigilante name trending on Twitter under #Swag_forHeroCon?

(—This one’s got a high-stress moment and the briefest panic attack known to man somewhere in the middle. Mind the post’s tags and reply if it needs more.—)

—

It started about a year ago. It’s sophomore year and he’s looking at his options for next year’s classes.

Of course he’s taking AP Calc and everything he thinks colleges wanna see. That’s a given and a no-brainer and he’s not gonna go into detail about that.

No, what matters is that his junior and senior year let him take career classes.

Hero-related career classes.

Because not only is this a private nerd school that he needs his scholarship to afford. It’s a private nerd school that has a dual-enrollment type thing with a nearby heroics school.

And one with a pretty good support course that is now available to him.

He’s always been interested in math and engineering. Support courses are just using both of those to make cool shit for heroes and make hella money while doing so.

He’s done his research. Support gear can cost anywhere from a couple thousand dollars to an arm and a leg and both your kidneys.

And it’s his dream to make that kinda money.

So he talks to his counselor about it, fills out the applications and waivers, takes the program’s entrance exam. And within a week he’s got his new schedule that’s got an extra two hours slapped onto the end of the day.

It’s gonna be so worth it.

—

And it really was.

The beginning of the year was covering what they should make support gear for, how to take the quirks and ideas of the heroes they’re working for and make them actually work.

But also the design process, how to research stuff, lab safety. How to make something look nice while not compromising its utility, costume design, branding. Different materials and their uses, different materials and how to work with them. How to deal with mistakes and set-backs. Avoiding burnout and getting literally burn.

The class was amazing. But his favorite part came later in the year.

The final project.

They were given a made up hero student’s profile and were told to create a support item for them. The file came with their name, measurements, hero name, quirk description, and several sketches of what the fake person looked like and of them using their quirk.

They were given a few deadlines and some profiles came with design requests, but for the most part they were allowed to go ham.

And go ham he did.

His assignment was a kid whose quirk was being able to float just himself. He got a couple sketches of what the kid’s costume already had and it looked like there was a bee theme going on.

So, naturally, he decided to give this kid a pneumatic nail gun.

...

Alright so maybe that wasn’t as intuitive as he thought it was. But the kid didn’t have any sort of weapon on him in any of the sketches!

And there wasn’t any sort of close combat abilities listed in the biography like some of his classmates’s people had, so the further this kid could be from the action while still packing a punch the better.

Hence the nail gun he was designing to look like a stinger.

He did his research. Looked up where the body’s vital organs are and read up on acupuncture. Looked up the damage that stab wounds can do and how fast a thing had to be going to go right through you.

Printed out some human outlines and wrote up a couple sheets that pointed out the “no-no spots.” And basically wrote a manual on how to use the thing and half an essay on why certain safety features were implemented to keep him and the fake kid from being sued.

And then halfway through actually building the thing he got the idea to add a paralytic substance.

And then he hated himself a little bit because he had to find a substance that would be non-lethal and would have the desired affect. And then he had to go to his teacher during his office hours to sit down and explain that yes he had this idea but he’s not entirely sure if it’s a good one.

And he wrote another almost-essay about what he chose as the paralytic substance and why he chose it and what the max amount the average person could take was so that he wouldn’t be liable if it was used improperly.

And then he recorded himself reading all of his paperwork both for extra credit and because apparently the kid’s bio said he was dyslexic and the teacher wanted them to do this as realistically as possible.

Probably would’ve been easier to just change the font but he’s come this far, might as well go the extra mile.

He paints the thing. Gathers up all his research and his concept sketches and his blueprints and his explanations and his recordings.

And he dumps them on the teacher’s desk and enjoys the lull in the class as the final projects get reviewed and graded.

They get to watch movies and Netflix with the TA while the teacher sits in the other room grading them.

He loved this class.

—

He still loves the class but it loses points for the fucking heart attack it just gave him.

Apparently the hero students they made shit for we’re real hero students. Actual, physical people who applied to the heroics department and got in. And may possibly one day be heroes if they didn’t fail.

And were going to come in and see the shit they made that passed inspections. And would be given said shit to use as part of their hero costumes.

In hindsight it should’ve been obvious, but Purpled cut himself some slack there.

At least his guy was nice. A little too excited at 4pm on a Thursday, but given the fact that Purpled just handed him a gun and said he could shoot people, it was understandable.

Purpled felt really good as he walked this Tubbo guy through the instructions again. Apparently he’d already been sent the paperwork and the audio before this. So all that was left to do was remind him about it the important stuff and then taking five wide steps back and letting him shoot at a practice dummy.

...

Well, Tubbo’s aim wasn’t his problem.

F to any villains and civilians in his way.

—

At this point, there’s probably some confusion.

“Purpled, why did you become a vigilante if your support gear inventing future looked bright?”

He’s getting to that!

He needs to talk about his junior year to give context for his senior year.

Which sucked absolute ass.

—

For one, Purpled’s quirk came in.

Now, normally that would be a pretty good thing. Somewhere around 80% of America’s population had quirks.

Four out of every five people had some sort of ability or abnormality that ranged from being able to detach your ear to having super strength. Getting one that wasn’t detrimental to your health, even at his age, was generally a positive thing.

Except Purpled’s actually sucked. Sucked so fucking bad.

Yeah, he was lucky in that he didn’t suddenly grow gills and need to live underwater for the rest of his life or something. But he honestly wished he could go back to a week ago when he didn’t have this quirk.

When he wasn’t constantly being forgotten by the people in his life because of a quirk he couldn’t turn off.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the quirk counselor’s quirk let them detect the use of quirks, he would’ve thought he’d lost it.

People forgetting his face, his name, his existence over the span of a week was hell. He had to show his mother his birth certificate and social security card and his baby pictures so that she’s remember she had another son. Let alone everyone else in his life that he only saw at school.

Oh god his fucking school.

The lengths he had to go to to keep his fucking scholarship was fucking nuts.

Classes were a nightmare with the teachers forgetting about him by the end of the period.

Things eventually got easier when he realized it was an area of effect thing and that he could shorten it to affect people within a few feet of him.

From that point on he just had to social distance from people like his life depended on it. Because his social and academic lives did depend on it.

He didn’t experiment with his quirk beyond that though. He hated it. He did everything in his power to keep it as tightly controlled as he could.

Until the one time he didn’t.

—

He was out to get another notebook because he’d severely underestimated how many notes he’d need to take for one of his classes. It was just supposed to be a quick stop on his way home.

He’d sat on the bus home with his quirk pulled in tightly around him, the force of it a buzzing weight on his skin that he refused to let go of.

He got off at a stop that wasn’t his but was closer to the dollar store he had in mind. He honestly didn’t expect to take more than ten minutes.

Then a guy walked in and loudly told the cashiers to hand over the money.

Purpled wasn’t that close to the front, but he peeked around the aisle and watched the robbery unfold.

The dude had what looked like leaves for hair and was holding the cashiers at gunpoint. There were two of them at adjacent checkouts, neither of them with any visible mutations. They actually might not have quirks.

Purpled has no idea what to do with this information.

His best bet was to wait for the heroes to arrive and stay quiet-

One of the cashiers was looking right at him. Robber guy noticed.

Turned around and pointed his gun at Purpled. Told him to get out from where he was hiding and to kneel on the ground in the open.

And Purpled was scared. He couldn’t move, he’d frozen.

The guy got loud and mad and he still had the gun pointed at him.

Purpled was panicking. His chest felt too tight and his quirk was freaking out. Buzzing harder than it ever has.

He couldn’t hold it. He let go.

...

For a moment, everything was still and everything was quiet.

Purpled felt light, he felt more at ease than he had in months.

Because his quirk was free and loose and everyone else in the room looked so fucking confused. Like they had no idea what was going on.

Like they just forgot what was going on.

And then the heroes arrived. How they knew to be here was anyone’s guess.

Purpled should probably give his statement.

Purpled was probably in shock though. So he forgave himself for shoplifting and not pulling his quirk back in. For just walking right out of the store and down the street.

Nobody shouted at him or called him back, so he assumed they forgot he was there.

He wished he could forget he was in the store for that moment too.

—

There’s a lot of other little things that lead up to Purpled being a vigilante, but those things don’t matter as much.

He drops out. It’s not hard to make people forget he even went to school.

He regularly breaks back into school to steal tools and materials for his projects and just wipes the people who walk in on him doing that shit.

Makes a costume but scraps it and decides to make several replicas of the top twenty’s costumes.

Because he’s realized that the wider he makes his range the less of an effect his quirk has on all those in range. Vice versa.

So the pro gamer move here is to make people forget what they saw the person in the pro hero costume doing instead of trying to make them forget they saw an unfamiliar figure doing shit.

Memory is reconstructive after all. Easily manipulated even without a quirk like his.

And he’s good at making his costumes and altering his appearance.

He probably won’t always do a good job wiping people’s memories though, so he lets it stick that there’s a vigilante that impersonates pro heroes. One that constantly shifts their appearance.

He even gets bold and makes a name for himself.

Swag_.

...

Listen he didn’t say it was a good name-

—

He doesn’t stop a lot of crime. And the people he does save often think they were saved by someone else.

But there’s always that one moment after he managed to save someone where they look at him. And they see him.

And that’s worth everything.

It’s not a selfless motive. It’s not a heroic motive.

But it’s enough of a motive for Purpled.

—

He doesn’t know how he got a following. Doesn’t know how he never noticed.

But he likes it. After the initial shock of seeing himself trending fades, he lets himself soak up all the positive attention.

And then he gets back to work.

[douxreviews]

Supergirl - ‘What's So Funny about Truth, Justice and the American Way?’ Review

Kara: I feel like I’m screaming into the void.

Manchester Black breaks out of prison with the help of his new team, the Elite. Supergirl tries to apprehend Black and his team while dealing with a shocking new development involving Ben Lockwood.

This episode follows a lot of different story threads, and a lot of the choices are not clear cut. Each person has a legitimate point of view. OK, there are some bad people, but they are not totally bad. Or maybe – sometimes they are a little inconsistent? Or maybe they are growing?

We open at Catco, and Alex shows up to meet Kara for lunch. But Kara has made other plans with Nia Nal, because she forgot about their lunch appointment. To me this is unrealistic. OK, Kara is not Brainy; there’s no evidence that her mind is such that she would never forget anything. But Kara’s relationship with her adopted sister is the most important relationship in her life, and more important than ever now that it is under the strain that Alex no longer remembers that Kara = Supergirl. On the other hand, I enjoyed the time at the fortress of solitude, where Nia Nal is getting some training. They were enjoyable mostly because of Brainy, who always has great lines and wonderful delivery.

The story continues with many characters choosing sides. The Children of Liberty: “Aliens are bad, we should kill them all,” versus the Elite, led by Manchester Black: “Aliens are sick of being killed and are going to kill back.” But our characters – the ones we care about – are stuck in the middle. This leads to ambiguity and difficult choices for our characters, which is interesting. But it also means that the writers are dealing with many different sides, and several different groups of characters, which means that they are juggling a lot and it is hard to follow.

Lockwood, released thanks to a presidential pardon, is off to meet the president. Lockwood asks President Baker to deputize the Children of Liberty, but the president says no, and instead just uses him for a photo op to keep up those all-important poll numbers. Baker’s refusal makes sense; the Children of Liberty are a rogue, untrustworthy organization that he cannot trust. The president eventually threads the needle by asking Lockwood to head the alien department. Lockwood also goes back to the Children of Liberty and retakes control in a vicious manner. So often things are resolved by someone beating up someone else.

The president has a larger role in this episode than usual. He has ordered the launch of a satellite to shoot down all incoming alien ships, without bothering to check if the ships are carrying aliens with good or bad intentions. This has been done in secret, but the Elite find out and let Supergirl know. Supergirl is not sure what she should do. She goes to Alex as Supergirl and asks her to intervene, but Alex doesn’t even know about it, so her sister-in-secret cannot help her. The Elite, naturally, are also pissed off about the shoot-first-ask-questions-later satellite and reprogram so that its first shot is aimed at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in DC. Supergirl (thanks to some assistance from Alex) is able to fly up to the satellite and stop that first shot from taking out President Baker, and then she takes out the satellite. The fact that the satellite was about to take out the White House gives Supergirl the justification to destroy it, making her moral choice easier; the story might have been more interesting without that extra bit.

Lena Luthor is currently stationed at the DEO, working at supplying the US government with the product they need to enhance human strength, that is to give humans superpowers. Alex, who has a scientific background, understands what is going on but doesn’t understand why Lena doesn’t just hand over everything to the government. Lena says that she doesn’t trust the government (which means to me that she and James didn’t need to break up, another mild inconsistency). After the satellite incident, Alex also doesn’t trust the government.

J’onn J’onnz also has a lot of self-doubts. He wants to follow the way of peace of his father, but he also wants to get out and fight.

Another nice exchange was between Brainy and Nia Nal, when they discussed what heroes do – leaping ahead without looking or overthinking. It was nice to watch Brainy’s evolution on the matter, but it also seems very similar to the satellite launched by President Baker: shoot first.

The most satisfactory moment of the episode to me was when Alex asked Supergirl to stop by occasionally. The heart of the show has always been the bond between Alex and Kara/Supergirl, and it will add so much to the story to watch this develop.

Title musings: ”What’s So Funny about Truth, Justice and the American Way?” is the title of the episode. I don’t recall hearing anyone utter anything like that during the episode, but it is a phrase that has been uttered by Superman before (in a Chris Reeves movie). Well, I don’t recall the “what’s so funny” bit, but he did say he was fighting for the rest of it, the ideals that the super cousins support. And yet in this version of the United States, those ideals are being pushed aside. What do you do when you can no longer trust your government? As Manchester Black says, “It’s a bad time to be a good man.” The title works for me.

Bits and pieces

Nice to see one person after another coming in and out of James’s office at CatCo. That is what it is like to be a boss, dealing with one important item after another.

Another satisfactory moment was when Colonel Lauren Haley told Alex that she did not know about President Baker’s plan to shoot down all incoming aliens.

Hat-guy is cool – he is apparently known as Hat – but we don’t know where he came from.

Quotes

Brainy: You have anticipatory dreams. I have differential calculus.

Manchester Black: When they go low, she goes high. We put them six feet lower.

President Baker: All you gotta do is look pretty for the cameras.

J’onn: One thing’s for certain – Manchester was a test for me. But whether he’s a test of my resolve or just a mirror showing me that I cannot walk my father’s path – I just don’t know.

Overall Rating

I have mixed feelings about this episode. It’s so clearly a chapter in the season’s arc, that its final value should depend on how it serves that arc – and right now I don’t know how the arc will turn out. For the moment I’m giving it three out of four fifth-dimensional energy hats, but like those hats, the rating could vanish or bring in more hats.

Victoria Grossack loves math, Greek mythology, Jane Austen and great storytelling in many forms.

[miamaroo]

Northern Migration- Chapter 25 (Notes+Preview)

Surprise! I’m updating about a week after my last update! Don’t get used to it, though. It’s only because I’ve been on break. I have classes again tomorrow, and finals seasons is about ready to slap me in the face. Hopefully you’ll see me again for the holidays. (Speaking of the holidays, we’re nearing the one year mark for when this fic first started wowza).

Like always, this is brimming with spoilers, so proceed forwards at your own risk.

Spoilers!

I messed around with that Taako scene for ages, trying to make the first distilled look into his character. I have a lot of trouble writing him, especially since I’m always trying to find a happy mixture of what he’s like in the show, what he’s like in the fanon, and what he would be like in the universe of this fic. I did my best. I’m not one-hundred-percent happy with it, but considering I rewrote the entire scene right before posting, I think it’s functional.

Since the next chapter is already written, I know that I’m going to keep mentioning layers of clothing as being a status of wealth. This is a part of what I plan on doing with the future flashback chapter into their history on their home plane. I feel like I have to mention it so that you get an idea of how the cultures are different, but it’s also annoying because it’s hard for me to convey that this is a cultural aspect that supposed to be different from Faerun.

Apparently, eyeballs help keep the structure of your head. I also did not know that.

Everyone in the TAZ fandom is a coward for not giving Taako a beard, and I’m counting Justin in that. Artists who give him stubble can stay, but you’re all on thin ice.

One thing I’m trying to figure out is a balance between people recognizing Avi in his old age because they know him well, and people not recognizing him because, honestly, I see pictures of my own dad as a young man and he’s a completely different person.

When John says “give your hands now,” it’s a purposeful twist of Merle doing the exact same thing in chapter 5.

I know I said this before—but John’s philosophy is so close to being that of some hero that it’s honestly scary.

As a kid, as I started thinking about perspective and morality, I also realized that a lot of what we considered right or wrong can be manipulated by whose point of view we’re viewing it from. And, as a preteen, I used that as justification for a lot of bad things. A lot of how I’m writing John is just thinking about how someone could’ve manipulated me into thinking or doing anything, and just giving him the opportunity to get Stevie to think that way as well. Like John has no way of knowing about Piper repeating all of her dad’s bad political beliefs (remember Piper and Gansey from chapter 3?), but he gets people. And I think he would know that, in her situation, Stevie would be thinking about morality in a way that would be easily manipulated in his favor.

All that being said: you’re a lot of fun to write John, but fuck you.

I don’t know yet if I want John to be aware of the Seven Birds concept, but in case I do eventually decide that he does, Vultures is a very on the nose confession of what he ultimately wants Stevie to believe. If I decide to make it so that he never knows, then it’s just me (the author) making an on the point piece of foreshadowing of what his plans are going to be.

John is a bard. Fight me.

And here’s a thought: this is the first time in the story where Stevie gets to have fun and it’s not interrupted by plot bullshit.

Originally, Lucas was going to have the weird crush on Avi, and it was going to be something that was going to making Johann feel extra sure about never confessing, but Avi already has so many other shit going on that I had to redistribute some things.

That being said, Sloane and Avi having this bitter history together is very important to me. With Griffin wanting TAZ to be about found family, I sort of wanted to take the opportunity to explore the idea of two people who became family before it was ruined. Basically, since Lucretia didn’t destroyed her family (minus Taako being pissed), I had to destroy another family.

Avi being in debt to someone is the reoccurring theme of his life. He was in debt to the Hammerheads, then Sloane, and now Bane and Barry. This guy constantly owes other people things.

Things that are also very important to me: Ren being fiercely protective of all her friends.

I can’t remember if Merle in canon couldn’t remember if he made a sash or a belt, but I’m taking Clint’s endless confusion over the two as an excuse to make it so.

I was going to write a scene where Davenport discovered that he can’t learn sign language, but I didn’t have the space and beyond just filling in a potential loophole, it didn’t really add more to Davenport. Like, he know he’s suffering. I don’t need to remind you that much.

The same goes for the cutting of a scene where Magnus is helping Julia learn how to walk. Again, there was a space issue and the fact that it wasn’t them actually making it up allowed me to feel like I can get around writing it. That being said, it still hurt to not write it. 

Also, hey! Only two relics left to this story! I still have to write like three more interlude chapters before we can even get cracking on that, but now you can see how much progress we’re actually making in this fic!

This is such a minor detail, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out if I want stoves to be a thing in this world or not. I know that I decided a long time ago that everyone was going to have hearths except for the Starblaster, which was going to be technologically advanced enough to have an actual stove, but there’s not enough cooking in this damn fic to convey that idea. And when it does come up, it’s at Lucas’s lab, which would also be advanced enough to have a stove, but not one as advanced as the Starblaster. AND I CAN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO EVEN CONVEY THIS IDEA. One time, I thought I could emphasize how almost scared Julia was of the stove, but then I remembered that she has had a decade to get used to it. SO YEAH. I JUST DON’T KNOW.

I know that I have to acknowledge any reasonable feelings Julia would have involving becoming disabled, but I’m also trying to be careful to make sure it doesn’t come off as condescending or pitying towards disabled folks. I’m trying to strike a balance, and I’m never sure how well I’m doing with.

Julia’s prosthetic leg is based upon prosthetic legs used for runners in the Special Olympics. I am going to add a link to a reference here, but it’s late and I might forget. If you noticed that I forgot, tell me and I’ll add it.

Stevie likes snow because it’s snowing in parley. She likes rainbows because the black scars on John’s face is holographic.

Also, Lucretia is gay. She’s like, super duper gay. Supreme gay.

I feel like I put down what color Taako’s magic is somewhere in this fic, but I don’t feel like looking through the entire thing in search of it, so right now I’m just writing around having to state its color for as long as possible.

The item Taako used to make the hole in the floor is the Hole Thrower. Don’t ask me where he got it.

Originally, I had a scene like two chapters back where Taako saw Angus, thus making his comments about seeing a kid around make a lot more sense. However, I convinced myself to get a little sneakier about Angus being on the ship and then proceeded to forget about it. Considering how much effort I usually put into foreshadowing everything (and this is still without a written outline), I’m going to give myself a pass on the bad writing this time around.

Like I mentioned in the chapter notes, I’m off break now and starting finals, so next update will take a long time. Feel free to talk to me on here and generally strike up a friendship. I’m a very lonely person. Anyway, here’s the preview for the next chapter:

Angus McDonald sits with his hands folded calmly on his lap, fancy clothes unruffled as he looks up at the circle of adults surrounding him. It’s plain from the slight quirk in his brow that nothing about being held up in the Starblaster kitchen is by any means threatening. He sits, mouth in a tight line, as he waits for his turn to speak.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Lucretia says dully, pressing a bag of frozen peas to Taako’s face.

He takes it gladly, practically collapsed against the kitchen counter as he moans. Angus’s hardy kick was just enough to make a single drop of blood creep down from his nose. “I’m dying, Lucy. When I go, tell Merle he could fuck off.”

“Whatever I do to you?” Merle demands, turning from his job of standing by Davenport’s side to shout.

Davenport, all the while, has his arms folded over his chest. His eyes are set in a harsh glare that makes Angus shift in his seat. Every adult in the room Angus is pretty sure he can handle, but Davenport is somewhere on the level of a god. Flanking each of his sides is one of the Burnsides, with Magnus in a pair of paint-splattered work clothes and Julia in a chair, her prosthetic leg still in her daughter’s possession. The kid was ordered to leave the room, but Angus saw her creep back in, armed with the prosthetic leg and a set of paints. She claimed the corner directly across from him. Every now and then, Merle and Taako make gestures grand enough that Angus catches a glimpse of the girl watching him as a curious spectator.

Davenport sighs, then nudges Magnus’s leg. At the cue, Magnus bends down into a squat, perfectly leveled with Angus’s eyes. “Angus. What are you doing here?”

“I—” Angus closes his mouth. He shifts until he’s back to the picture of innocence.

“We’re not mad at you,” Magnus says. “It’s just… we do a lot of dangerous things, and I’m sure your job as a consultant is plenty dangerous enough—”

“Detective.”

Magnus pauses. “What?”

Angus preens. “If case you forgot, my name is Angus McDonald and I am the world’s greatest detective. If you’re trying to interrogate me, I suggest that you do your best to ensure that you’re coming in with the most accurate information.”

[ferluccia]

I love the Victuuri fluff prompts you post!! The baking vlogger Victor one in particular made my heart all warm and fuzzy (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

aaaaaaaa omg thank you!

here’s a little something, then: 

The idea came up when they were done with the season and brainstorming different ways of enjoying each other’s company in their first off-season together in St. Petersburg. It didn’t matter who’d thought of it first, what mattered was that, at some point, they’d both agreed it would be a sweet idea and that they’d have a lot of fun doing it.

After a couple of days of research, they record a cooking video. Yuuri offers to record (still somewhat camera shy, Victor knows, but he dismisses that saying he’s had enough experience helping Phichit record videos) and Victor, with Makkachin’s well-behaved support, are the stars of the show. 

Their video goes viral in a matter of minutes. It’s impressive. 

It starts off very simple: a shot with a happy Makkachin lolling her tongue and a cute little mug cake on the counter with a simple handwritten title overlaid on it. Then, it transitions to a very cozy and domestic Victor Nikiforov, who waves at the camera with a bright smile. Makkachin, at his side, wags her tail.

“Hi! I’m Victor Nikiforov and today I’ll share my personal, homemade mug cake recipe! It’s very simple and quick to make, an ideal snack for a rainy afternoon like today when you want to relax at home and watch some movies,” he winks playfully at the camera. “After I’m done baking, my recipe is going to be judged by the best mug cake connoisseur who is going to give it a score based on taste, appearance and…" 

He waggles his eyebrows comically as the camera zooms in his face - perhaps a bit too close when only Victor’s eyes are in the shot. He hesitates, his dramatic expression breaking when Yuuri bursts out laughing off camera, and it abruptly cuts. 

Victor is smiling on the next shot as if he’s been laughing for the past five minutes, and his clear effort to keep it together is adorable.

"Alright, as I was saying, my mug cake is going to be judged on taste, appearance and overall presentation - ‘is it a mug cake?’ is the question we’re trying to answer here today. With me, I have Makkachin - say hi, Makka!” Makkachin wags her tail vigorously. “She’s going to give me moral support - something of dire importance when you’re baking mug cake. Let’s get the ingredients!”

On a quick little montage, all items are displayed on the pristine kitchen counter. Those with keen eyes can tell that Yuuri is the mastermind behind that staged shot, all ingredients neatly placed and ready to be mixed. Again, overlaid handwritten instructions with cute little arrows point out how many portions are going to be needed.

“I came up with this recipe when I was living with Yakov and Lilia,” he says, and it’s clear he’s not speaking to the audience because he keeps looking at his fiancé off-camera as he beats an egg in the mug. “They were very strict about my diet when I was off-season, and I’d crave sweet things so I ended up making a small-sized cake using the least utensils possible.”

“And what are you doing now?” Yuuri’s sweet voice says off-camera, zooming in on Victor, who looks at him in confusion.

“The mug cake,” he states the obvious, pouring milk into the mug. Yuuri chuckles.

“You have to tell us! You have to talk to the camera, Vitya!”

“Oh!” He laughs. “Right, yes, so… Uh… After you’re done beating the egg you’re going to add oil and milk and mix it well - you know, that wet ingredients and dry ingredients rule. Is it a rule?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri hums.

“Well, OK. I’m using the same spoon to pour and mix the ingredients because… It’s always the same spoon. And I don’t want to wash a lot of dishes.”

“Sustainable cooking.”

“Exactly,” Victor chuckles as he adds chocolate powder and mixes carefully, all under Makkachin’s curious gaze. “So now we start adding the dry ingredients, but you have to be careful-” the camera switches to his face and zooms comically again, and the shot is all Victor’s eyes, sometimes only his mouth “-because you don’t want the flour to, uh, make bubbles. Bubbles?”

“Yeah, it gets…” Yuuri is very clearly trying not to laugh. “You have to mix it well, got it.”

“Exactly, you don’t want to find flour bombs in your mug cake,” the shot is in Victor’s hands as he adds sugar. “So we’re going to mix these first and leave flour and yeast last. Yuuri?”

“I’m recording.”

“All of me?”

All you can see is Victor’s hand on the screen, with his golden ring shining poetically.

“Yeah.”

The next shot is serious again, with Victor adding spoonfuls of flour with a tense expression.

“Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Victor hesitates, with a spoon in one hand and sack of flour in the other, staring at the mug.

“I think I put too much flour.”

“Oh, no!”

“What do I do?” He bursts out laughing. “Oh, no!! I screwed up! It was supposed to be three spoons and I put four full ones? Help me, Yuuri!!” Victor whines, looking at the camera with supplicant eyes as he slowly swirls the ingredients in the mug.

“I can’t, I’m the cameraman,” he says with a chuckle.

“Makkachin!! Help me!!”

“You’re getting flour all over your shirt,” Yuuri laughs, and Victor pauses to look at the mess he’s made.

“Aw, no…”

A quick montage comes up with a close-up shot of Victor mixing the flour in the mug then adding some yeast. The tragedy, it seems, was limited to Victor’s drama, because the mixed ingredients look pretty good.

When it transitions to Victor again, the camera is positioned closer, and it’s clear Victor cannot look away from his gorgeous cameraman.

“Now that Makkachin has saved the day - thanks, Makka! - we are going to put it in the microwave for three minutes. And be careful, it’s going to be super hot when it’s done, so wait a few minutes until it’s cooled down before eating.”

Another quick montage of the mug spinning in the microwave, Victor cleaning up the counter and Makkachin being a good girl plays to the sound of a light, cheery music. Then, the microwave beeps and Victor picks the mug carefully and sets it on the counter.

Back to its original placement, the camera now frames Victor, Yuuri and Makkachin, all looking excited about the mug cake. 

Looking at the camera, Victor announces:

“So now I have here, with me, an authority in mug cakes,” Yuuri hides his smile behind his hand as he gazes at Victor. “A man who has traveled around the world looking for the perfect mug cake recipe and who is going to judge my homemade mug cake with the highest of standards. Isn’t that right, Yuuri?”

Yuuri, blushing, nods and tries to appear serious.

“Should I mouth-feed you the bite?” Victor asks in all seriousness. And Yuuri, apparently forgetting about the camera, smiles and nods at him.

“What am I judging you on?" 

"Oh,” Victor pauses with the fork in his hand. “You have to give me a score based on taste, appearance and is it a mug cake?”

“OK.”

“So, please, have a look,” he gestures at the mug and Yuuri steps closer, inhaling a deep breath and humming in approval.

“It smells amazing. And it looks a bit…” Yuuri shakes his head, “I think I can see some flour you didn’t manage to mix.”

“Damn it.”

“But I’m intrigued. Let’s taste it!”

And, in what could possibly be the most romantic scene in all video, Victor takes a forkful of chocolate cake and feeds it to Yuuri, his other hand automatically reaching to caress his cheek. Yuuri gazes back into his eyes, fluttering his eyes shut as he tastes the bite and nods, eyes closed. Victor watches him expectantly, his hand seemingly forgotten on Yuuri’s cheek and grazing the pad of his thumb like it’s a natural instinct. 

“It’s very good.”

Victor sighs with relief, laughing with Yuuri at his own reaction.

“It tastes sweet, but not too sweet, you know?”

“Exactly! I had to fool Yakov somehow - sorry, Yakov.”

“I really like it, this is delicious,” Yuuri pokes him for another bite.

“OK, but the final question…”

“… Is it a mug cake?”

Victor nods, expectantly. And taking his time, Yuuri grabs another bite and chews on it, pondering, raising an eyebrow just to tease Victor. 

“It is a mug cake.”

Victor cheers, asking Makkachin for a high-five and giving Yuuri a gentle kiss on his cheek, wrapping him in a hug as Yuuri chuckles.

“Final score?” He asks, excited.

“I’d give this mug cake a gold medal.”

“Wow! Yuuri!” Victor beams, wrapping his arms tighter around Yuuri. “Alright, and what should we do next?”

Tapping his chin with his finger (a classic Nikiforov quirk), Yuuri takes a moment to think about it.

“Cookies.”

“Cookies!” Victor echoes, excited. “Do you know how to bake cookies?”

“I do!”

“Perfect! For my next video, we will have a very special guest,” he winks at the camera. “Thanks for watching!”

[aion-rsa]

Wynonna Earp Season 4 Episode 8 Review: Hell Raisin’ Good Time

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This Wynonna Earp review contains spoilers.

Wynonna Earp Season 4, Episode 8

Oh, to be a fly on the (probably Zoom) wall of the Wynona Earp writers’ room during the brainstorm session about which Halloween costumes each character should wear in this autumnal holiday-themed installment! Reader, they nailed it. Wynonna dresses as feminist hero Britney Spears (compliment of Waverly for both bringing the costume together and knowing that Wynonna would be into it), and Wonder Woman. Doc is bisexual icon Freddie Mercury. And Waverly… well, Waverly is a ladybug and then an angel. It’s all beyond perfect, and epitomizes just how much fun this slasher episode of Wynonna Earp truly is. (Barring the sob story Varun Saranga is strapped with selling, but we’ll get back to that later…) Two episodes, and Wynonna Earp Season 4B continues to be… just an incredibly good time? There is a time and place for Important Television, and Wynonna Earp sometimes ducks into that intersection, but I don’t think we talk enough as a culture about the importance of fun, especially in such dark and draining times. I didn’t know how much I needed more unabashedly fun TV until Wynonna Earp came back into our lives, welcoming us all back to the party. And, friends, more than a year into this pandemic, we are all overdue for a party.

This series has had Buffy the Vampire Slayer in its narrative DNA since the beginning, but never is it more apparent than in these delightful supernatural problem-of-the-week episodes. Last week, it was a love virus. This week, it’s a homicidal scarecrow with the head of a pumpkin, the hands of Freddy Krueger, and the focus of an Olympic athlete. Rotten Jack is his name and he’s been a rural myth in the town of Purgatory since the Earps were little kids, spending Halloween trying to avoid their abusive father. It says a lot about this town and the Earp family that an active supernatural killer on the loose is enough of a regular occurrence that literal angel Waverly attempts to eschew the responsibility of tracking him down because she has plans to hang out with her sister. But it’s hard to judge a grown woman so unabashedly wearing a ladybug costume, especially when she is so devoted to hr big sister. Maybe it’s low-hanging fruit for a reviewer and fan who is best friends with her own sister, but, for all of the other amazing relationships on this show, Wynonna Earp has always had the sibling bond between Wynonna and Waverly at its heart and it’s touching to see that, even when these two can’t remember their own names, they remember the love they have for one another.

Yes, that’s right. Waverly and Wynonna straight-up lose their memories. Wynonna may be able to remember whiskey, but she has no idea what Peacemaker is for. This is all thanks to Casey, who you may remember as Wynonna’s half-demon cellmate in “Look At Them Beans.” When Wynonna and Waverly go to Casey’s trailer, per Jeremy’s BBD instructions, in order to pick up “the extractor,” a necessary item for capturing Rotten Jack, Casey freaks out. He’s gone full conspiracy theorist off-the-grid-er since we last saw him (which, fair enough), and doesn’t want anything to do with BBD. He runs away from The Sisters Earp, leading them into the amnesia-inducing fog that apparently surrounds all of the Ghost River Triangle. What follows is basically a delightful excuse for Melanie Scrofano and Dominique Provost-Chalkley to get silly as Wynonna and Waverly traipse around town, in search of a Halloween party, with no idea that demons or vampires are even a thing or that they are supposed to be all that stands between Rotten Jack and the people of Purgatory.

Meanwhile, Amon has graduated from morally-ambiguous antagonist to straight-up villain. And I’m not just saying that because he tries to use the fact that he had sex with Wynonna to manipulate Doc into doing what he wants. (It doesn’t work.) In an effort to make some serious cash, Amon sets up a betting pool livestream around the identities of Rotten Jack’s victims, pivoting to auctioning off the chance to kill the Earp sisters when the opportunity presents itself. I wish this turn had a bit more nuance—I’ve never really been sure of who Amon is as a character or what Wynonna Earp was trying to do with him—but his commitment to villainy does provide structure for the rest of our characters to rail against. It gives Jeremy a chance to team up with Doc to save Wynonna and Waverly, and gives Doc a few instances to reiterate his commitment to the Earp sisters both through his actions and his words. He and Wynonna may not have worked things out, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t the love of his life.

Jeremy and Robin’s tragic backstory knocked this episode down a half-star for me. While I understand the necessity of recasting a role from time to time, I am 100% of the opinion that I would rather the series act as if they are the same human rather than come up with a face-tearing backstory that is both unnecessarily gruesome and too silly even for this show. We already suspend disbelief when it comes to the existence of vampires, demons, demon-hunters, angels, and Cupids on this show; what’s a little recasting amongst friends? Then again, I have always been willing to lean into a recast. Maybe it’s because I am a Doctor Who fan?

That being said, I am also very invested in the angst when it comes to Jeremy and Robin’s ongoing love story. They obviously still share a connection, even if Robin can’t remember their dating history and currently has a boyfriend who is not Jeremy. I am torn between the pull of the amnesia romance trope and the fact that Jeremy is basically slipping drugs into his ex/co-workers’ support group coffee. On the one hand, my fanfic-reading heart loves a good pining amnesiac exes-to-lovers story; on the other hand, it is deeply problematic that Jeremy isn’t giving Robin the option of taking the serum. Robin is an amnesiac; he’s not a child. (Not that you should drug your children’s coffee, either.)

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Additional thoughts.

Taking bets: do we think Amon is dead or will we see him again?

Everyone loves Doc, and it makes total logical sense.

Wynonna’s “walk of shame” look works better than it has any right to.

R.I.P., random Purgatory residents killed by Rotten Jack. I’m not sure what the town’s population looks like at this point, but the loss of three residents ain’t nothing.

“Can you just let me petty.”

“Are you late for school?” “Whore school?” The line delivery here.

“You’re supposed to be the nice one.”

“They say it’s hilarious, but you’ll never look at Dame Judi Dench again.”

“I already wear a mask everyday.” Still not clear on the logistics of Robin’s new face, but I honestly hope the show never tries to explain it.

Code Orange… for Halloween?

“I just want to go trick or treating.” It’s super interesting that, when Waverly and Wynonna lose their memories, it’s Wynonna who loves Halloween and Waverly who hates it. Presumably, this is how they really feel about the holiday.

Justin Kelly, aka the first Robin, is now on a show called Hudson & Rex, which seems to be a show about a cop and his police dog. (The new Robin is played by Jim Watson.)

“I think your boyfriend might be a cokehead.”

“p.s. Dance like no one’s watching.” Casey’s letter to “Wins and Waves.” <3

“I’m not a hero. A fuck up.” “You can be both.” I love how they just slipped the thesis statement for this show into the dialogue of this episode and hoped nobody would notice.

“Love is the absolute of fear.” “Love has always lightened the load.” If Doc ever needs a side hustle, he should consider motivational life coach. But, really, we need to talk about how sweet talk is one of Doc’s legit superpowers. Between his pep talk to Cleo last week and his pep talk to Casey this week, he’s on a roll.

“She’s my most important thing.” “Gross.”

“You were the best sister I ever had.” “How do I know?” “I know.”

Was this episode the best Wonder Woman movie of 2021? Yes or yep?

Doc helping Waverly off the stage?

“Oh my god, I had sex with Eiman.”

“You’re hilarious. We can’t even get the popcorn machine to work.”

This mind fog is spreading? This isn’t going to be good for the cat cafe…

S’mores!

“You are and have always been my hero.” “It’s easy when you know exactly what you’re fighting for.”

“Mind if I steal her for a minute?” “A minute? Woman, you better make her happy for the rest of her damned life.” Nicole didn’t get a lot of screen this episode, but boy does she make the most of it.

 Rotten Jack is played by Kelsey Andries, an actor and stunt performer. She does a very good and creepy job bringing this supernatural horror to life.

The post Wynonna Earp Season 4 Episode 8 Review: Hell Raisin’ Good Time appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[quinzelade]

By No Constraint (chpt 71)

SS x Danse

Chapter List

Thanks to my amazing beta, @waiting4morning, for her wonderful work!

Tumblr has apparently changed its linking rules, meaning I can no longer externally link my FFnet or Ao3 accounts if I want my story to show up in the tag search on tumblr. If you want update alerts, please search ‘quinzelade’ on either of these sites and follow me there.

Apologies for the huge unplanned almost two month gap for this fic. The Manchester bombing happened, which was in my general part of the country, which meant work and other related stuff got busy for me, as everything got affected in that area tbh. Then I went to Normandy to take part in the memorial D-Day services over there. Now I’m in Texas, where I’ve finally had time to write.

I decided to finish up the last few chapters of BNC. They are all written out and beta’d, so with any luck I’ll be releasing them each week without any disruptions. I will be announcing what I intend to do in regards to other writing plans closer to the final chapter.

It's good to be back! I missed you all, and I hope you enjoy the ending of my long ass story. :)

Major Brotherhood/Danse spoilers.

–

Reparations

–

The holotags were to remain with Quinn.

Danse knew this—hated it—but he also understood the necessity. They had to be handed in to strike Marguerie off the Brotherhood’s list. Official closure, as well as supporting the story Quinn would give to anyone that asked.

Official closure.

Danse snorted to himself, his hands gripping at his gun. Official closure existed for one reason: to pass on the deceased holotags to their families. The malicious irony brought a sour taste to Danse’s mouth, and he felt his face twist with disgust. No one knew Marguerie’s daughter still lived. The tags would never reach their rightful owner.

Every step he took—every inch he moved from those tags—felt like a betrayal to Sarah. He was going to tell the girl her mother was dead, that he murdered Marguerie, and had nothing to show for it.

Well, not nothing. The sketchbook rested against his heart like a shield, pressing uncomfortably into his ribcage. Small price to pay for a child’s mother.

Would she remember him? It had been months since he’d seen her. Danse recalled how cheerful she’d been, even knowing her father was likely dead. And brave, too. Chasing after super mutants with rocks.

Danse grinned to himself, but the smile slipped away almost immediately. He told Marguerie this on her grave. And just like then, Danse knew she would have been proud of Sarah. A shame Sarah would have no memory of Marguerie at all...or maybe a blessing. Marguerie’s absence must have hurt on some level.

He wondered if Sarah would ever grow to be as tall as her mother. Now he thought about it, the idea of MacCready and Marguerie being an item wasn’t so strange. She’d always liked men shorter than her. George had only come up to her chin.

Danse chuckled to himself, the day she’d brought George to the base as clear as day. There had been some teasing from the other grunts, but for once, Marguerie didn’t rise to it. The smile on her face as she’d sat with George, ignoring the taunts, was clear for everyone to see: love.

Danse stopped in his tracks, staring across the dead landscape. In the distance, he could just make out the Slog, the sun gleaming off the surface of its tarberry filled pools. He focused on the shifting shimmers, trying to push Marguerie out of his mind, and then immediately found himself distracted as a brahmin ambled into view. For a panic-stricken second, he thought it was Weathers, before remembering Weathers was dead.

The discomfort that gripped him when they found the doctor’s body returned in full force. Although Danse wasn’t entirely certain of Weathers’ fate, he still had a pretty good idea, and it involved a certain ghoul pressing money into the outstretched hands of Weathers’ guards.

Danse wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Quinn. She would never buy his flippancy over Weathers’ death. He’d lied to her anyway.

Lied.

Danse felt slightly sick, even if he’d deceived her for the best of reasons. But he’d live with it. Danse knew Quinn, and he knew she’d feel responsible if he shared his suspicions. After all, she was the one to tell Hancock that Weathers took bribes from the Institute. And while Quinn was more than capable of doing what was necessary, she also clung to her outdated morals.

Danse loved her for them. Letting Weathers leave on the proviso he never came back, despite his Institute leanings. Honouring a man’s word and upholding hers in turn. It was so...pre-war.

Danse supposed that’s why deciding Carson’s fate took so long. But Quinn had deemed Carson a potential threat. Weathers, she had not, now the Institute was gone. And to have him killed when he posed no immediate risk…

No, Quinn would not approve. So Danse lied. She had enough on her plate at the moment without the added guilt of a worthless corpse.

Danse shook his head and strode on. He was fixating on something he only suspected, even though the evidence was pointing to the same person. But what Hancock may or may not have done was none of Danse's business. He had Quinn and Charlie to think about.

Slowly, he drew near to the Slog. Even from a distance, Danse could see the ghoul residents tense at his arrival. His face was still covered. Hoping they wouldn’t be too alarmed when found out who he was, Danse made his way over to Wiseman. “I don’t know you remember me, but…”

A chorus of “Paladin Danse!” hit the air, the residents moving to crowd around him. Danse winced, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder as if the Brotherhood were right at his heels, and he heard Wiseman hiss, “Shh! You know he’s supposed to be dead!”

“Thanks,” Danse replied, turning back to face Wiseman and holding out his hand.

Wiseman stared at him, and Danse inwardly cursed. The first time he’d been here, he’d been nothing short of awful. Of course they wouldn’t forget that in a hurry. The only reason they’d tolerated him was because of Quinn, and she wasn’t here now.

“Sorry,” Danse said quickly, attempting to withdraw. But Wiseman seized his hand and shook vigorously.

“I don’t remember the last time a smoothskin offered to shake hands,” the ghoul rasped, beaming.

“It’s not a big deal,” muttered Danse, his cheeks hot.

“Oh, but it is.” Wiseman fixed Danse with a piercing stare. “It really is. You’ve come a long way, Paladin.” He gave a friendly squeeze and let go.

“I’m not a paladin anymore,” Danse replied, meeting Wiseman’s eye. “And that’s probably for the best.”

Wiseman laughed, stepping forward and clapping Danse on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink. What’s your poison? And where’s Quinn?”

“Non-alcoholic,” Danse said as the two of them walked inside the building in the centre of the settlement. “Quinn had business with the Brotherhood. She’ll be joining me here later. But—”

“Nuka-Cherry?” Wiseman said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a dusty, magenta bottle.

“Uh.” Danse blinked. He’d never tried anything other than normal Nuka-Cola. “Sure.”

Wiseman produced a rusted bottle opener from his pocket, prised off the cap, and then slipped both back into his pocket. He passed the drink to Danse, who cautiously sipped. It was far sweeter than normal cola, but nice in its own way.

Danse had a little more to be polite, then said, “I’m not on a social visit unfortunately.”

“Oh?” Wiseman poured himself vodka, neat, and sipped it from a chipped coffee mug.

Danse stared at the alcohol, momentarily distracted, before shaking his head. Focus. “I’m here to see Sarah. The little girl?”

“Sarah?” Wiseman repeated, and Danse heard something in the ghoul’s tone he didn’t like. “Why do you want to see her?”

“I...I think I found her mother. Her name was Marguerie. Ra—”

“Was?” There was a clatter as Wiseman knocked over his mug, sending vodka everywhere. But he didn’t seem to notice, staring hard at Danse. “Is Rachel…?”

Danse nodded. “Yes.” Wiseman knew Marguerie’s first name, without being told. Danse’s doubts melted away, though his stomach still felt tight. He forged on. “I need to speak to Sarah. Need to...pass on some items, as well as the bad news.”

Wiseman pressed his lips together, his ravaged face paling. Danse waited, dread starting to creep over him as the ghoul struggling to speak. Finally, Wiseman’s brow knotted together and he bit his lip. “I’m...I’m sorry, Danse. Sarah’s gone.”

--

Quinn's breaths beat to the rhythm of her footsteps, sharp and painful. She didn't know where else to go, what to do. Maxson's attitude enraged her. After everything she told him, the first thing he could comment on was her relationship with Danse. Why was it so important to him? Why was he so fixated on condemning Danse and keeping her here?

She shook her head and stomped on, ignoring the initiates that scurried out of her way to avoid her wrath. No doubt some of her altercation with Maxson had carried to the rest of the ship. She only hoped the finer details had been lost in the scuffle. As she reached the middle of the walkways, though, Quinn stopped. There was one place on this stupid ship she was guaranteed privacy. Maxson wouldn't follow her there now—not after the way she'd spoken to him.

Smiling bitterly to herself, she turned on her heel and marched back the way she came, before turning right to the officers' dorms. At the end of this new corridor was her own room. Her sanctuary away from so many staring, questioning eyes.

She opened the door, and halted in the doorway, staring. There was someone sitting on her bed, someone she hadn't expected to find.

"Josh?"

Joshua Cooper sprang to his feet at once, scarlet in the face. He practically punched himself in the chest as he saluted and said, "Ma'am! Sorry for the intrusion, ma'am!"

Quinn smiled at him. "Relax, Josh. I said you could come here, remember?"

Josh's faced deepened to maroon, his fist still digging into his chest. "I know, but...I didn't want you to find me here."

"Why not?"

"Because...it's a private place."

Quinn frowned. Private for who? She gestured for him to sit down, and after a few seconds, Josh relented, letting his arm fall to his side. Quinn grabbed the chair from next to the old desk, and set it down opposite him. Then she went to the lockers lining the walls and rummaged through them. The last time she had done this, it was Bantios who needed her comfort. Quinn felt a pang in her chest as she located her stash of Nuka-Colas, and wondered how good of a job she did after all. He'd still gone to fight the Institute. He'd still died. Saved everyone in the process. Quinn hadn't even stayed for his funeral.

"Ma'am?" came Josh's high voice from behind her. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Quinn lied, stepping back from the lockers, a bottle clutched in each hand.

"Oh, wow! Nuka-Cola!" he said at once, sounding thrilled. "My mom only ever let me try it once!"

There was a pause, and Josh made a noise like he was being strangled. Then he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them.

Quinn decided not to comment and instead prised the caps off the edge of her desk, grinning slightly at the thought of Danse's expression if he could see her now. He'd be horrified at her using his old workspace for such a purpose. She wiped the smile away as she approached Josh, though, and nudged him gently with his bottle as she sat down in her chair. It wasn't as comfy as Mrs. Bossanova's old armchair, but it would do.

Eventually, after a few dogged nudges, Josh took the bottle and sipped reluctantly. Quinn saw his eyes widen slightly before taking a longer swig, like a broken man drowning his sorrows with booze.

"How have you been, Josh?" Quinn said, drinking from her own bottle.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Hey," Quinn said sharply, making Josh flinch. "No swearing."

God, I sound like my mother used to.

"You swear! I've heard you!" Josh replied indignantly. God, he sounds like I used to.

"Yeah, well," Quinn mumbled, hiding her hypocrisy behind another sip of the cola, "it's a bad habit. Don't do it. I won't be letting my son swear."

"He will if you carry on swearing," Josh said bluntly, glaring at her. "Kids look up to their parents." He paused, looking upset. Josh hid his face behind his knees again, holding the bottle lazily between his fingers. It was at great risk of falling. Quinn leaned forward and plucked it from his hand, setting it down on the floor next to her.

She was reminded of Nate's annoyance whenever she’d sworn in front of Shaun, telling her she was setting a bad example to their son. Quinn had promised she'd put a lid on it, and managed for a while. Then the apocalypse happened. Small promises fell by the wayside after that.

"They'll be proud of you," Quinn said gently, setting her own drink down. "Because you're right. Charlie will copy me."

Josh lifted his fingers slightly to show he heard her but didn't look up.

"How are things with Michelle?"

"Bad," Josh said, his voice muffled by his knees. "All she does is cry. She's stopped teaching, too. They had to get a scribe called Haylen to take over.” He finally raised his head again. "I like Haylen. She's nice."

Quinn smiled. "I like Haylen too. She's a friend of mine."

Josh seemed to uncoil himself, sitting up straighter. "I like coming to talk with you, ma'am. Can I...am I allowed to talk to you more often?"

Quinn bit her lip. "Josh..."

His face fell. "Oh. Sorry." He started to get up from the bed, looking embarrassed.

“No, it's not like that," Quinn said quickly, holding out a hand to stop him. "I'd be more than happy to talk with you if...if I was staying."

Josh fell back onto the bed with a soft flump. "You're leaving?"

Quinn nodded. "I have a new mission, elsewhere in the Commonwealth. It's going to take a long time to do. I might never be coming back." At the look on Josh's face she hastily added, "I'm sorry! I know it's not the best news but—"

"Take me with you," Josh said at once, grabbing her hand. "Please, take me with you. Don't leave me here. Please!"

Quinn's words caught in her throat. More than anything, she wanted him away from the Brotherhood. She could see the misery this place inflicted on him. The loneliness. An Elder Maxson in the making. But with the plans she had for Sanctuary, and the ideals the Brotherhood put into their children, it wouldn't be safe to bring him. He would hate what he saw. May even try to escape back to the Prydwen if it became too much. And not only would he risk his life in the attempt, but if he made it, then Charlie and Danse's lives would be at risk, too.

She cared for Josh. But he wasn't her son.

Quinn shook her head. "I'm sorry, Josh. I can't. It's too dangerous. No mission for a child. Besides, if you went with me. You'd never see Michelle again. Or any of your friends. Or—"

"I don't want to see her again," Josh said, his face burning scarlet. "I don't care about this place anymore. My mom and dad are dead, and for what? You couldn't even tell me why they died! Because they died for nothing! I'm on my own, and it was for nothing!"

He screamed the last sentence in her face. Quinn didn't stop him. Didn't even challenge him. He was right. But it changed nothing. Even if Josh adapted to life at Sanctuary, to Danse's survival, to all her plans, Maxson would never agree to let him go. And if she took him, the Brotherhood would turn the wasteland upside-down to find him. Missing soldiers were one thing, but children? She knew enough of Maxson's history to understand he would stop at nothing to make sure the boy was safe.

“No,” Quinn said, making her tone cold and final. “You have to stay here.”

Josh glared up at her. “Fuck. You.”

He wrenched his hands away and ran from the room before she could so much as move. Quinn sat in her uncomfortable chair, shocked, letting what had just happened sink in. She could have taken him away from all of this. Taken him somewhere he could be a normal kid.

Quinn stayed sitting in the empty room a little while longer, staring at the wall, before forcing herself to get up. There were things to do. No time to mope. She had to say goodbye to Carson.

--

Maxson was already in the sick bay when Quinn walked through the door. He turned around to see who had entered, and then promptly put his back to her. When he began to speak again, it was as if she wasn’t in the room.

“I need people I can trust with the operations ahead of me. The Sentinel speaks most highly of you, and given the circumstances we discussed, I think you have shown you stand for what is right above all else. Do you agree?”

“I...yes sir.” Carson was pale and wide-eyed, staring up at Maxson. Aside from when he’d been questioned over Danse’s synth status alongside Rachel, Quinn was sure Carson had never held an actual conversation with Maxson.

“Good.” Maxson saluted. “Ad victoriam, Knight-Sergeant.”

“Ad victoriam, sir.” Carson tried to salute, but his arm trembled and dropped lamely back to his side. If Maxson cared, he didn’t show it, striding from the room without another word and deliberately avoiding Quinn’s eye.

They waited until Maxson’s footsteps died away. Quinn cleared her throat. “What was all that about?”

“I’ve been promoted,” Carson said weakly, staring at the foot of his bed.

“Congratulations.” The word sounded insincere, and Quinn felt her cheeks burn. However, Carson shrugged.

“He said he had a conversation with you about the future of the Brotherhood. He wants my input when I’m better. Said as a survivor of what happened with Rachel, I’m in the best position to advise him so that it doesn’t happen again. Highlight the failings that caused her to slip so far.” Carson looked up at Quinn, and she saw an empty sorrow in his gaze. But then something shifted, and anger blossomed from the depths. “You—”

An irregular clunking made him stop, and seconds later, Kapraski burst into the room, leaning heavily on his crutch. “Christ, am I allowed back now? What the hell was he playing at, sending me out? You’re my partner, for christsakes!”

“Tom—” Carson began, but Kapraski ignored him, propping himself precariously on the crutch while he started fussing over the state of Carson’s pillows, which were not sufficiently fluffed to Kapraski’s satisfaction.

“Tom,” Carson said louder. “I need to speak to Quinn.”

Kapraski paused, his brow furrowing. “So? Whatever it is, you can say it in front of me. I already had to wait somewhere else while Maxson was here. I’m not doing it again.”

“Yes, you are.” Carson locked eyes with Kapraski and frowned. “Please leave.”

Kapraski was as stunned as Quinn felt. Carson had never been so firm with his boyfriend before, usually letting Kapraski take the lead. Now he was putting his foot down. The effect was quite unnerving.

“I…” Kapraski glanced at Quinn, clearly hurt. Then he nodded. “Alright. I’ll just be down the hall.” His eyes flicked back to Quinn as he said, “Come find me when you’re done.” With that, he managed to get himself upright and hobbled out from the sick bay.

Carson sighed as Kapraski left. “He’s pissed. I’ll be in for it later.”

Quinn sat herself down on Cade’s desk and studied him. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You know what.” Carson nodded towards the open door, menace cracking his features. “You told Maxson? Did you even stop to consider what kind of shit you might be dropping me in?”

Quinn hesitated. Carson had been honest with her over Rachel. She owed it to him to be honest over Maxson. “I did.”

“And you told him anyway?” When Quinn nodded, he let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, I see. Fish me out of the frying pan and throw me into the fire, right?”

“It’s not like that—” she began.

“I know it’s not,” Carson snapped, glaring at her. “Lucky for you, Maxson didn’t flip the fuck out and have me executed on the spot to hide his secret. But you didn’t know that. Anything could have happened. Tom could have been dragged into it as well.” He was almost snarling at her, his hands balled into fists.

“The Brotherhood is going to run itself into the ground,” Quinn said, too tired to dance around the matter anymore. “It’s unsustainable. I told him about Rachel to prove a point. Maxson needs to change. The Brotherhood needs to change. If it doesn’t, it will die.”

Carson didn’t answer, taking in quick, ragged breaths that made his chest appear to spasm. Quinn bit her lip and then sighed.

“I’m leaving, Carson. And I won’t be coming back.”

Carson looked up at her, blinking slowly, his mouth open. “You’re…leaving?”

Quinn nodded. “But...if you’re scared…” She fidgeted. “I can wait until you’re better, and then you can leave with me. You and Kapraski. Sanctuary isn’t like the place where you were born. No one will judge you for who you are.”

There was a stab of guilt within her as she offered out the one thing she’d denied Josh. But she knew Carson, at least, was safe. And Kapraski hadn’t shown animosity to Nick when they’d met. He was safe too.

Carson blinked again, and turned his head from her to stare around Cade’s office. Quinn knew his only love for the place was the community he felt. The acceptance. He could get that just as much in Sanctuary. Quinn thought he might jump at the chance. She was wrong.

“No,” he said, blinking quickly now, his eyes shining bright. “No. I can’t do that to Tom.”

“But he can come with you,” Quinn replied, feeling confused now.

“It’s not that, he…” Carson’s face scrunched in despair. “Tom needs to fly, to pilot a vertibird again one day. It’s the only thing keeping him going. If we leave, he loses that for good. I won’t take it from him.”

“But you said you were worried that—”

“I’m angry you didn’t think things through.” His face hardened again. “You took a big risk telling the Elder what happened. But that wouldn’t push me enough to leave.”

“Even if it got you killed?”

“Dying isn’t too much of a burden.” He raised an eyebrow at the look on her face. “I’m not suicidal or anything. I want to live, but...well, I wouldn’t know I was dead either. Tom would be upset, but he’d get over it. Move on.” Carson’s brow creased. “Tom is happiest in the sky. I want him to be happy. And I want you to be safe. I don’t really care what happens to me past that.”

Quinn wondered how she could have ever doubted his sincerity. She slid from the desk as he stretched his hand out to her and locked her fingers through his. The weight of her decision was finally taking its toll. She would never see Carson again. Never laugh or joke with him, cry on his shoulder, or console him in turn. Never…

The two of them were suddenly hugging, though Quinn had no recollection of who started it. She arched her back up, trying to avoid pressing on his wounded chest, only for Carson to drag her close. He grunted with pain, but dug his fingers into her arms as she tried to pull away. Quinn understood. The last one should mean something, no matter how much it hurt.

Eventually, they broke apart, both wiping at their eyes.

“Don’t get yourself skewered,” Quinn said, trying to smile.

“And don’t let yourself get shot,” Carson countered, struggling to keep his tone playful. “I won’t be able to drag you out again.”

“I know.”

There seemed nothing else to say that wouldn’t prolong the parting. Quinn took his hand, gave his fingers a final squeeze, and left.

--

It was almost dusk by the time Quinn arrived at the Slog. Danse heard her before he saw her, exiting her power armour with a grating clunk and cheerfully greeting Wiseman. Danse drained his Nuka-Cola, setting it down next to the pile of empty bottles, and slowly got to his feet. He had been sitting outside on the ground, back to the wall, basking in the sun. Numb.

Quinn wrapped her arms around him, planting a kiss on his lips, and Danse tried to force some enthusiasm into the embrace. When they broke apart, she frowned at him.

“Everything okay?” Quinn asked, touching his cheek. “How did the talk with Sarah go?”

“It...it didn’t.” Danse dropped his gaze. “She left the Slog months ago.”

“Left?” Her worry was clear. “But she’s only a kid!” Quinn looked over her shoulder to where Wiseman lingered. “You let her go?”

“No, we—” Wiseman began.

“She went with Arlen Glass in the middle of the night,” Danse interrupted, and Quinn turned sharply to face him again. “Or that’s what everyone suspects. No one actually saw them.”

“Arlen was always close with Sarah,” Wiseman said with a shrug. “And after Sarah’s dad got dragged away by the mutants…” He heaved a great sigh. “Arlen became like a father to her. Almost inseparable. But then he started playing this tape, over and over again, with a young girl talking on it. A week later, he was gone. And Sarah with him.”

Quinn didn’t seem to be listening, staring instead at Danse. Danse could barely look at her, barely think. The one thing he’d promised to Marguerie—to speak to Sarah, to protect her—and he’d failed almost immediately. He had broken his word.

Quinn apparently read his mind. She put her arms around his neck pulled him down so that his chin rested where her neck met her shoulder. Danse closed his eyes. She didn’t need to speak to tell him it wasn’t his fault. He could feel it in how tight she held him.

They didn’t stay long after that. Wiseman tried to convince them otherwise, but the place felt like a bitter reminder of how fruitless Danse’s actions had been. Marguerie would be sneering if she could see him now.

At Quinn’s insistence, they made their way to the old bunker to collect the last of Danse’s things. Surprisingly enough, the place hadn’t been looted, but he found himself somewhat detached from the items that had been so dear to him not that long ago. He glared at the Brotherhood flag hung on the wall, and then walked past it, calmly picking up the chipped shot glass and the book Quinn had given him.

His Brotherhood armour stood not too far away, side by side with the set Quinn and the others helped him acquire. He studied it, a pang in his chest. Despite everything that had happened, Danse still felt drawn to it, to the memories lingering in the steel. Now he knew what he was, this armour had been his longest, most faithful companion.

He jumped as Quinn touched his arm.

“Take it all with you,” she said quietly, nodding from his armour to the tattered flag. “Even if you’re feeling bitter. You can decide later whether you want to keep them.”

“I can only choose one set,” Danse said, his eyes still fixed on the Brotherhood armour.

“We’ll come back for the other later.”

Her words made sense, but he didn’t want to return to this bunker ever again. Not unless he had to. It was a dank, gloomy place that stunk of decay, and woven deep into his now distant grief of being a synth. Being back here was making him ache with despair. Danse twitched his nose, wrestling for another topic. “What happened on the Prydwen?”

Quinn suddenly looked anguished herself. In a monotone, she told him of Carson and Maxson, and everything in-between. Danse wasn’t surprised she was truthful with Maxson—he even felt a twinge of pride at her honesty, but it was quickly wiped away as she described the struggle that ensued. “He grabbed you?”

Quinn shrugged, reaching up to unpin the flag from the wall. “It’s no big deal. I tried to punch him first.”

But the sleeve of her jacket slipped down, revealing darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on her wrist. Danse snarled and strode over to Quinn, ignoring her look of alarm as he took hold of her as firmly as he dared and tugged the sleeve down more. He stared at the marks for a second, blood pounding through his ears, and then said, “Maxson did this?”

The tremor in Danse’s voice was all too clear. Quinn bit her lip as their eyes met, and then gave a small nod. “Please, don’t do anything. He was only restraining me.”

Danse let go of her, breathing hard. He didn’t know why it made him so angry. Quinn was right—she had hit first, and in any other situation, Maxson’s response would be justified.

But he’d hurt Quinn.

Danse turned to the flag on the wall, still pinned in place. In one sharp movement, he tore it down, throwing it to the floor.

“Danse!” Quinn moved in front of him, her eyes wide. “There’s no point getting upset over something so small! Maxson’s an asshole. Just let it be.”

“You’re one to talk,” Danse retorted, clenching and unclenching his fists. He needed to regain his composure, and he was trying, but… “You tried to hit the man because he insulted me!”

Quinn smiled and caressed his cheek. “Then we’re as bad as each other.”

Her touch was like a sedative. The rage drained away at once, replaced by a dull warmth. She wanted him to be calm. He would be calm. Danse exhaled heavily and nodded, placing his hand over hers. Then he gently tugged her arm away and kissed each of the bruises, with slow, careful deliberateness. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Of course I’m alright.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his nose. “It’s just Maxson. He doesn’t matter.”

“No. He doesn’t.” The words felt foreign in Danse’s mouth, but he meant them.

They stood in silence for a few moments, and then resumed packing Danse’s things, stacking them in a little pile to put in the power armour of his choosing. Danse didn’t bother to pick the Brotherhood flag off the floor.

“Oh, by the way,” Quinn said as they worked, “I spoke to Joshua Cooper earlier: Vivian and Stephen’s son.”

Danse looked up at her. Her tone suggested she had been sitting on this information for a while, waiting for the right time to tell him. She busied herself around the workbench, avoiding his eye, though apparently without really moving anything.

“He...he wanted to come with me,” she said. “Hates being on the ship. Hates being with his aunt. Begged me to take him away from the Brotherhood.”

Danse frowned. “Why isn’t he here then?”

Quinn glanced at him. “I thought it was obvious. He knows you’re a synth. What if he reacts badly to it? Tries to leave?”

“Has he ever shown any anti-synth sentiment?”

“No,” Quinn said quickly, an odd expression her face. She straightened up, her brow furrowed. “And his parents never did, either. Vivian said you didn’t deserve what you got. That you were a good man.”

Danse blinked. Viv, on his side? But that was neither here nor there. They were talking about Josh. He shook his head and said, “Then I repeat my question. Why isn’t he here?”

“Well...I’m worried about how Charlie might react to it. He’s already feeling neglected.”

“Charlie might not like it at first,” Danse admitted, “or he might find Josh good company. We don’t know. I don’t think such a small uncertainty is worth leaving Josh behind.”

“Charlie’s happiness isn’t a small uncertainty,” she snapped.

“You know what I meant,” Danse replied, not rising to her ire. What she was saying made sense, but this was Viv and Stephen’s son. If Danse had the opportunity to make a difference...

“I just…” Quinn hesitated. “Even without the issue of Charlie, is bringing Josh home too risky?”

Danse considered this. Sarah surfaced in his mind, far beyond his reach. Maxson, and what he had become right under Danse’s nose. Stephen and Vivian, his old friends, abandoned by him after Cutler’s death. Each indirect failure an old, painful scar. He wouldn’t add another one.

“No,” Danse said truthfully. “It’s not too risky.”

It was as if Quinn had been waiting on a signal. She tore across the room without a second thought, clambering into her armour.

“Wait, where are you going?” Danse asked, bewildered.

“To get Josh, if I can.” The armour sealed itself, and Quinn jogged across the room, picking her rifle off the table. “I’ll need Maxson’s help.”

The idea of her going back to Maxson filled him with dread. Maxson wasn’t known for his patience over blatant insubordination, and Quinn was the posterchild for defiance. To go back now could provoke him into something rash. Danse had the fleeting urge to stop her, until she turned, her helmet under her arm, and he saw the expression on her face.

Permission, Danse realised. She was asking for permission.

Intentionally or not, he’d just given it her. Now only a second apocalypse would stop Quinn returning to the Prydwen. Danse stayed silent as she put her helmet on and checked over her rifle. His heart was racing. They’d escaped, and now she was going back.

But before she headed towards the elevator, she turned to him, and Danse’s breath caught in his throat.

“Thank you,” she said, tapping her fingers on her rifle. “For not telling me to play it safe and leave him behind.”

Danse nodded, biting his tongue. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Quinn made a noise as if she was going to say something else, but then thought better of it. She marched over to the elevator, stepped inside, and disappeared from sight. The sound of grinding metal slowly faded, leaving Danse alone. He turned on the spot, the cold biting him, the dim lighting making his headache. He felt as lost as the day he’d learned he was a synth, alone and unsure what to do.

Like an old friend, the bunker enveloped him. It was as if he’d never left.

--

“Sir!”

Quinn nearly fell at Maxson’s feet as she skidded to a halt, her boots slipping on the metal floor. Her armour had been left on the outer decks. Maxson looked slowly over his shoulder, feet rooted to the spot, and glared at her.

“Sir now, is it?” Maxson said coldly. He looked back out of the office window, a drink in his hand. “Get out.”

“Please.” Quinn paused, trying to catch her breath. “It’s important. You know I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Maxson raised his glass, sipped from it, and then spoke to the window. “True.”

Silence.

“I watched you return,” he said eventually, his voice flat. “And wondered what would drag you back before you’d ever truly left.”

Quinn didn’t reply, her ragged breaths heavy in the quiet. She began breathing through her nose instead, trying not to disturb the tension in the air.

Maxson turned sharply around, nodding to his guards. “Knight-Sergeants. Dismissed.”

The guards saluted and obeyed without question, their clanging, armoured footsteps quickly fading away. Maxson waited until the suffocating silence returned before speaking. He looked at her in disgust. “What do you want?”

His tone was curt and crisp, sharpened with dislike and pointed at her throat.

Quinn did not break eye contact. “Do you remember Field Scribe Cooper and Knight-Sergeant Cooper?”

“Yes.”

“Their son, Joshua...he asked to go with me. I wondered if...”

“No.”

The word hit her like a bullet. “But, sir, if he wants to go with me —”

“No.” As Maxson whipped around to face her, he set down his glass so carelessly it spun straight off the edge of the table. Dregs of spirit splashed all over his boots as the glass shattered on the floor, but Maxson ignored it. “You will not take a single child off this ship. He belongs with his family.”

“His family is dead,” Quinn shot back, tensing up herself. “He can’t stand his aunt, and from what I can gather, she’s in no fit state to be looking after the boy in the first place.”

“We are a brotherhood in more than name. We will look after him.”

“The same way Rachel was looked after?”

“By the tone of Knight-Captain Cade’s report, Knight-Sergeant Marguerie had a penchant for bending others to her will.” Maxson gave a slight shake of his head. “Even if Cade wrongly blames himself.”

All at once, the tension left Quinn. There was something in the way he spoke, the way he held himself—like a yao guai defending its cubs. She knew he cared about the people on the Prydwen, but it struck her she’d never grasped just how much.

She stared at Maxson, and he stared back, until slowly, almost reluctantly, he began to relax too.

“The boy stays here,” Maxson said firmly. “He’s lost too much already. To take him away from all he’s known, after losing his parents so soon—it will...he…” Maxson broke eye contact as his voice wavered, and his lips parted around an unspoken word. Then he closed his mouth again and fixed his gaze at the broken glass on the floor.

“It’s not the same as you,” Quinn said gently, and Maxson’s head jerked up in her direction. “He’s miserable here. He wants to go with me. All he’s ever experienced is military procedures and war. He’s lost both of his parents to something he doesn’t understand—something I can’t explain. Not to a ten year old boy. I doubt you understood much of what was happening at his age either.”

Maxson swallowed, pale now. Slowly, he shook his head.

Quinn took a deep breath. “Josh deserves a chance of a normal childhood. Let me take him.”

Maxson’s brow furrowed, but this time he didn’t look away. “He’s been raised by our ideals. If he sees Danse—”

Quinn bit back a grin. “His mother wasn’t as strict on synths as she was supposed to be. She said as much to me when she thought Danse had been executed. I think Josh will be the same. But I’ll talk to him. And if I think he’s...” She bit her lip. “...too Brotherhood, then I’ll leave him in your care.”

Maxson shut his eyes, as if in pain. When he opened them again, though, they were sharp and piercing—his usual glare. “You risked a great deal today to place your trust in me. It’s time I returned the favour. You have my permission to take Squire Cooper, on the condition he is willing to go, and that you believe he will be happy and...and safe.”

Quinn smiled, relief flooding through her. “Thank you, sir.”

Maxson turned back to the window.

“Go.”

[andseperand]

thoughts

ive been sitting on this post for the better part of a year. i tried to read through it and make edits, but im going to have to post this as is. maybe ill be able to edit it someday. anyway, this is completely composed of spoilers.

tl;dr: i mostly wrote bitterness about “kung food,” “origins part 1,″ and “reflekta.”

these are my thoughts on what ive watched of the first season of miraculous ladybug (i have watched most of every episode except the last three).

i may be confused or misinformed on some points. some of this is not as serious as other parts, and the writing style is disjointed because i didnt write it all in one go. any links are formatted within brackets (as in [text]).

ordered by the order i initially watched (parts of) the episodes in and indicated by villain name somehow (english, korean, french, french translation, etc.).

stormy weather/climatika

why did alya just toss manon like that? she couldve hurt something just being thrown around with her tiny little bones and joints that lack any significant cushioning. not to mention that her neck is completely unsupported. safety, much?

the bubbler/le bulleur

so the record is fully functional but also survived getting smacked off a building on its edge? wow.

copycat/l’imposteur/the imposter

i get that alya is supposed to be that “go-getter” friend who pushes marinette to be brave, but honestly, if she had waited another minute for marinette to be more ready for making a phone call, this wouldve been less of a mess. yeah, i get the “pushing boundaries to build confidence,” but honestly we could have waited for marinette to stop stalking adrien, too.

i gotta say: marinette is truly fearless. my phone is so suspicious. i would not have the confidence to deliberately touch it with my face and risk contact with who knows what has been on it.

the “moral” or whatever of this episode is kind of unclear? steal someones phone and run into issues with security but then also somehow break into it and get what you want anyway? no, thats not okay. its not that funny that marinette legitimately stole someones phone, and she doesnt even get seriously reprimanded for this.

timebreaker/chronogirl

one of the most pressing questions i have for this episode is why no one thought of using pockets or a bag or something to hold this important watch. hand perspiration is pretty bad for a lot of older and newer mechanical objects alike. why is this clearly-important item treated any different? ive considered both the “tikki is in the bag” (doesnt mean it has to be marinettes bag) and the “girl pockets” (marinette designed her own clothes, though) possibilities, and im still stumped.

mister/monsieur/mr./m. pigeon

how did chloe know what the colors were or even what the embroidery pattern looked like from a pencil sketch? it looked like chicken scratch.

lady wifi

im not sure that “dont violate other peoples privacy” was very well stated, seeing as alya was landed with an unfairly harsh punishment due to corrupt politicians. and how did that get resolved, anyway? was she still suspended? was there even supposed to be a moral in this mess?

the pharaoh/le pharaon

the villain is a pharaoh, continuing the ages-long trend of pretending ancient egyptian culture is just ~so interesting~ and that its portrayal isnt exploitative at all. i cant really say much about this, but i dont like those special ancient egypt episodes of anything.

rogercop

a mess

im pretty sure that this was to save animation budget or something, but why was marinette picking up those croissants off the floor and arranging them so nicely as if it really mattered what she did with them besides cleaning up the spill? i guess ill let it slide if shes trained that way as an advertising thing (though advertising doesnt get a free pass by default just because its strange).

the evillustrator/evil artist/le dessinateur

off topic, but could that tablet also erase or create living beings?

dark cupid/le dislocoeur/heartbreaker

this was still technically a kiss without consent? doesnt really feel all that romantic and whatnot. i cant really get behind this as shipping material.

horrificator

side note: i really liked how chloes english voice actor delivered the lines mockingly announcing mylenes “award” in the beginning.

im not a fan of the “you must kiss as part of acting” plot point. it always gives off those peer pressure vibes from other people and opportunistic vibes from main characters who want to actually kiss the other person.

darkblade/le chevalier noir/the black knight

sabrina is honestly super lucky that marinette made her box have a hole big enough for super tiny animated character wrists or else she wouldve been in a world of more pain.

alya had a platform? im so confused about how this election worked. did they do ballots or some sort of “heads down” in-class vote thing?

the/le mime

seeing as people dont lose their memories of being attacked by the villains, i really dont see how tearing down the eiffel tower (even in an animated show where people are not in the structure at the time) is the best way to minimize traumatic experiences. i get that it was supposed to be a “wow” moment for the plot and just visual effects but not the appeal.

kung food

the second i ever laid my eyes on this name i knew it would be bad, i just didnt know how bad because there were just so many ways it couldve gone with that phrase and i didnt know what to expect until i actually watched the episode. more on this in a bit.

there was literally no point to having the famous chef be related to marinette other than contrived circumstances to get adrien into this episode. im using this as a launching off point for talk of other stuff.

why didnt marinettes parents do anything about a relative coming to their house? this really baffles me because they have their daughter meet an effective stranger with no help.

why didnt marinettes parents tell her what languages the relative spoke? honestly, it kind of seems like they just didnt even care if this would cause her extreme anxiety or anything. you would really think they would have at least discussed this as a family because it was made pretty clear that his visit was actually expected. i thought way higher of their characters until it seemed that they pulled this crap move.

i know it was supposed to be all cute and a bonding moment when adrien came over to translate, but it was even more of a disaster. why did they take a car literally around the corner to get to the hotel? why didnt the chef go directly to the hotel if it was so close? was that adriens car? who was in charge of organizing this event and making sure the contestants didnt end up in the wrong place? how in the world did the chef even get to the bakery? because of the close proximity of the hotel to the bakery, it doesnt make sense that he would go to the bakery instead from an airport or something? unless he was supposed to meet his relatives? which, in this case, was not facilitated at all? so many questions are raised.

i dont speak nor understand mandarin, but im pretty sure adriens wasnt good enough for him to actually be complimented for it. then again, its nothing new to see white people getting complimented for deigning to learn a ~foreign language~ while i get interrogated about my lack of “authenticity” for not speaking “my native tongue,” so i guess the writers were just being realistic.

he bowed...funny story, at least one time i went to a restaurant with other visibly asian people and the apparently-white waiter kept making this weird head bobbing motion every time they left the table and what im saying here is that i know adrien has presumably been learning about culture stuff, but i also know firsthand that creators really love to shove bowing into media whenever asian people show up. (that waiter did give us extra mints, so i guess that was nice.)

sarcasm alert: i love when ~asian~ people have ~asian~ accents. its not like this is a tired gimmick that i dont need to see literally everywhere i turn (oh, wait! according to the english version, it is! hooray for me! this is probably the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me ever! im not being sarcastic at all! or overly sarcastic to the point where im sarcastically putting in that everything ive written in this paragraph is sarcastic because im just so mad! or maybe it definitely is! it probably is all sarcasm!) [bonus sarcasm here]

the chefs english/default dub language fluency was either inconsistent or this was just a straight-up rude portrayal of a nonnative speaker of a language, because adrien didnt seem to wait five seconds (for the chef to even consider the question about what he was cooking) before talking to the chef (and naturally, being a polite person, the chef listened to what adrien was saying), and i feel like it was only for the sake of adrien being ~useful~ because right after that, he talks to the chef in english/whatever language? dont think i didnt notice that his english speaking got “better” after becoming a villain. you know, if they hadnt faked the accent in the first place, they wouldnt have had to hastily cover for the fact that their voice actor couldnt even execute it well.

im sure adrien and marinette tag-teaming to argue with chloe and her racist comments was supposed to be this whole “wow look at that team” deal, but it felt like adrien was shoehorned into this mess sloppily. woohoo for the white boy defending marinette because she cant do it herself or something! i do appreciate when white people help stand up for me, but in this context, it feels off.

i have such a big problem with the “pep talk” adrien gives marinette when she thinks the chef doesnt like her. first thing, white boy explaining things about a person of color to a person of color, and the two people are actually literally related? i think the bouquet misunderstanding was really bizarre, and when did adrien have time to gain all this extensive exposition? the interview when they first arrived was short, and i dont think that both adrien and the chef would be so rude as to exclude marinette from their conversation in the car on the way over. this just comes off as a way to have adrien ~encouraging~ marinette, and its not a very good one.

this supposedly super prestigious competition literally has no security to make sure no one is mucking around behind the scenes, let alone ensure that the contestants arent up to any funny business. because why not. and no cameras around either, because cooking-based television programs never show any cooking, just the tasting and subsequent subjugation by a villain (this is a sarcastic sentence). even if this is supposed to be a featured dish and thus one they dont want to showcase the recipe behind, they could still have those little soundbites interspersed with candid panorama shots (can you tell i have no idea what any of these words mean?). im just going to have to chalk this one up to animation budget and move on.

i know this was just a sort of (intendedly funny) visual thing, but i highly doubt that the objects chloe put in the soup could just go unnoticed, especially since i presume a chef would thoroughly stir (and taste) their cooking, and the soup didnt appear to have properties of decomposing things touching it. otherwise that tasting session would probably have turned out a little messier (i am completely kidding here).

why is the chef being upset about being sabotaged made into a ~cultural~ thing? why is a white boy telling marinette about her ~own~ culture? sheesh, its like you cant just be upset because your shot at a world title was ruined on live television and you have confirmation that you were deliberately sabotaged. yes, chloe did it because shes petty and racist, but the results of her actions could upset anyone! its not just because the chef is chinese! what is the point of saying that? its a pointless throwaway comment! why dont you just find some other way to get the chef alone so he can be become a villain that isnt a) nonsensical and b) making sweeping generalizations about people? (granted, i cant speak to the validity of anything said about cultures, but i sure can comment on why saying such things about them isnt okay regardless).

“kung food” oh my god. this is such a piece of crap name. it is racist. you can literally try to argue against this until youve gone far beyond oxygen deprivation and in a grave but itll still be racist by the time youre done. aside from the pharaoh, there arent a bunch of ~ethnic~ names (not that it would be okay for that to be the case anyway) running around, and yet we get one with this specific villain whose ethnic and national origin is talked to death? okay.

and ive seen this pointed out, but the villain appearance seems to have a kind of anime-inspired design, which is honestly a good laugh because who was just talking about not conflating china and japan again? weeaboos and sinaboos are often in the same boat.

okay, not related, but adrien just had to taste a suspicious substance off the floor. why. there are so many ways to figure out what a substance is before putting it in your mouth. or you could just not do that at all. before this point, they did not appear to suspect a food-related villain, so this couldve ended badly.

another side note: i dont know how that receipt retained its integrity long enough for ladybug to wrap the villain up after dipping it in the soup. do the magical items just have super special properties like extra toughness that allows them to defy the reality of paper receipts? i wonder how many of the things ive talked about in this post have been me marveling at the sturdiness of lucky charm items.

of course this turns into an ~accountability~ lesson for marinette. and chloe doesnt get reprimanded? yeah, she got booted off a panel she didnt even want to be on and no one actually clearly articulated to her that the things she said were absolutely unacceptable? then again, this is a “diversity episode,” so i dont know why my standards are so high.

wow, marinette really needed to have adrien encourage her before going to take a picture with her great-uncle? im going to be generous and allow that she wanted to make sure he would be okay with her ditching him for her much cooler great-uncle because she didnt want him to feel bad about how not-cool he is in comparison. there, you see what i mean about making up story elements? (though im really not much of a writer, oops.)

im so over people making fun of how others dress as a joke. before i realized that i am autistic and reflected back on my life, i didnt realize that i gravitate toward clothing i find comfortable rather than fashionable, and ive always gotten negative comments, ill-intended or otherwise. so i really didnt appreciate marinettes jab at chloe, even if it was to defend herself. it was just unnecessary.

i want to talk about the whole ~chinese representation~ thing in this show. yeah, i know marinette is one of the very few chinese and mixed main characters out there (and there are barely any that are both), but im going to be super honest about this: i dont think shes all that great. i am a big fan of her and this show, but that doesnt make it infallible. the fact that adrien of all people is telling her about her own culture is a huge failing in itself. i dont know everything about my own cultures, but its not cool to have a literal outsider being shown to be the expert on someones culture and be the one to guide them through that. theres barely any portrayal of sino stuff in the show as is, and i hate the way this is only shown as a kind of special episode topic. i would be way more fine with this if this wasnt basically the sole instance of discussion of marinettes heritage. and no, the fact that her mother wears stereotypical clothing doesnt count. at all.

okay, this has been a huge issue for me before and after this point, but it was in this episode that it was made abundantly clear just what we are dealing with. i know that it is completely possible, genetically speaking, for a mixed chinese and white person to have blue eyes. its also completely possible for a chinese person to have gray eyes even without being mixed (i say this because i dont know if her mother is monoracial). however, if you only have two confirmed recurring characters of chinese descent, and their eye colors are ~special~ colors...well, thats kind of iffy there. why is it that the minor chinese character has stereotypical eyes? theyre basically just expanded pupils for all intents and purposes, which is not the problem, because its possible to have irises that are so dark as to make figuring out whether they have a distinguishable brown tint to them really hard. anyway, i suppose i dont want to talk about things ahead in the season, but why is it that the background asian characters get the stereotypical eyes but the main characters who are asian get the special eye colors? (that was a rhetorical question. i know exactly why.)

im pretty that at some point in the creation of this villain name, someone patted themself on the back for being so ~clever~ like “haha kung food geddit? its like kung fu but with food because im actually not that creative and more racist than i would like to openly admit.” okay, i know im being a bit harsh. but its really annoying when one of the few things people “know” about sino people is that kung fu exists. and honestly, i kind of suspected this, but ive seen other people say that the villain more resembles a villain from anime, so...thats kind of disrespectful there...

the/le gamer

i really disliked marinettes combo move names. they all had ~asian~ words like lotus, jade, oriental, etc.

animan

i find the sniffing scene to be kind of creepy. personal space much?

the city has really high quality buses. i cant believe the bus didnt end up backfiring on their plan because if i know anything about buses its that the ones ive seen are probably way older and more decrepit than me.

antibug

how do the earrings work in this setting? as far as i can tell, it would make sense for chloe to have pierced ears and a pair of ladybug imitation earrings that she could put it, but how is it possible that ladybug was able to just pull the earrings off? because that could be a really, really messy situation if they are actually piercings with backings and everything, but is there an explanation for this? magnets, clips, anything?

the puppeteer/le marionnettiste

can that glowing bright red effect that comes from her yo-yo and the power cord being swung around just for the viewers, or can it actually be seen in-universe? or is that a null point because both items are generated by ladybugs magic?

reflekta

this show really didnt need any “haha look a ~guy~ in a dress” jokes. and honestly, this was ill handled (though arguably, its very existence was ill handled). first of all, im not the best judge of this kind of thing, but to me, ladybug felt out of character while mocking chat noir? honestly, marinette doesnt strike me as the type of person to find that kind of situation funny in the first place, so the premise doesnt really hold up in my opinion. i know marinette can make mistakes, but youd really think she would be more open to not thinking this way because she knows what its like to be bullied for other things. moving on... [though, to reiterate]

the way this was not addressed? at all? yeah, ladybug apologized for that one comment at the beginning of their conversation, but then she continued to make jokes at chat noirs expense, and it just wasnt as funny as it was probably intended to be?

i know the whole thing about ambiguous chronology, but there is no reason ladybug wouldnt take chat noirs opinion into account when planning for things anyway. it felt like that part was written specifically so he could “prove” his worth to the rest of the episode and ensure that, yes, he is still allowed to be in it after being turned into a reflekta lookalike, and the whole thing smacks of trying to write out of a corner...that was written into in the first place. if it hadnt gone the route it did with the mocking of appearances, i dont think it would have had to be as convoluted as it ended up being.

i personally dont care for high heels, but i dont get the kind of “fashion cracks” that were being made about them. like yes, high heels can be hard to move in? yeah, it isnt fun being turned into the appearance of someone who isnt you against your will? i just dont understand this gag.

guitar villain

did ladybug really honestly just full-on spray someone in the face with the contents of an aerosol can? im aware that the point was that the hair was in front of his face, but what if some had gotten into guitar villains eyes? dang, what if someone tries to emulate this in real life? ouch.

digital/numeric

kind of done with the spotlight on stalking behavior this show has.

marinette still shows no fear of suspicious screens. she continues to use parts of her face to touch one multiple times, never mind that she literally flings her yoyo all over the place.

stoneheart/coeur de pierre i

did marinette have pierced ears in the first place? shes not shown taking any earrings out, and we dont get that clear a view of her earlobes anyway. that might be deliberate for modeling budget and all.

master fu has brown eyes. so thats like four ~chinese~ characters that are in this show, and the main character and her mother have the special eye colors, and the minor character who is somewhat important to the plotline has non-black eyes, and the minor one-episode character has the black eyes. what a shining example of diversity (no).

anyway this is a good point to say that some things are just not for you. there are things that you just cant be a part of no matter how much you want to be because it just doesnt work that way. and the mess that is the miraculous “mythology” is definitely an example of this. i myself have very little knowledge of anything sino, but i sure as heck can spot that this...”history” thing is so off.

at this point i should probably mention i really dislike master fu as a character in general. just as a single point, apparently hes based off the teacher character in karate kid? i saw somewhere that the creator said he basically made marinette mixed because he was dating an asian person when he was thinking about the show and that marinette is basically his idea of their mixed kid? and back to the eye color thing (again), ive even seen someone with green eyes and blue hair suggest to him that they could be the child of marinette and adrien, and he said theyre like his grandchild? (im not really inclined to try to dig up an iron-clad, indisputably genuine source for this right now, but if youre honestly searching for completely serious, well-researched information in a really good quality post, this is not the post you are looking for.) i have no idea where i was even going with this paragraph.

stoneheart/coeur de pierre ii

why is marinette so invested in her crush on adrien? this couldve been a sweet crush, but no, she has to make it so creepy? leading up to this episode, i really didnt know what to expect because i really thought there would be some sort of explanation for just how extreme the lengths marinette goes to are, but from what i can tell, shes just being super invasive? the ambiguous timeline doesnt really help with this, nor does the fact that the origins episodes were aired at the end of the season. whatever characterization was supposed to be inferred from this feels choppy and unnecessary.

simon says/jackady/jacques a dit

i dont really blame her, but ladybug totally could have reduced the level of adrien distractedness going on here. shes previously shown signs of compartmentalizing ladybug and even having to face the fact that it isnt worth using up her power over adrien, but gosh golly, what gives?

princess/princesse fragrance

ive seen criticisms of how ladybug was written to be overly competent in this episode, which i think is fair since it keeps happening, and its so late in the season by this point that its gotten tired.

volpina

i try not to be too judgmental, but frankly, adrien is not that great of a prize.

anyway, from what i can tell about this episode, i think that there was too much on marinettes flaws, which i really think is a bit much to have in the last chronological episode of a season. its already been established that she makes mistakes with her decisions, but i just thought her unequal prioritization of adrien was too much. it just seemed contrived to squeeze in scenes that the creators wanted to animate regardless of overall context in the show, which is really unfortunate because of how the show becomes a little less chronologically ambiguous at this point.

[cathrynstreich]

Why It’s Best to Keep Renovations Simple When Selling Your Home

(TNS)—When it comes to selling a home, some homeowners will go to great lengths to boost the value of their property. But do renovation projects translate to big paydays in the real estate market? Not necessarily, Zillow data show.

A mid-range bathroom remodel ($3,000 or less) can bring back $1.71 for every dollar spent, according to Zillow, whereas high-end bathroom remodels see an 87-cent return on the dollar. Kitchen remodels, on the other hand, see only a 50-cent bang per your buck.

A fresh coat of paint, new light fixtures or even light landscaping are less invasive ways to brighten your home’s future on the market.

The Value of Vintage Tatiana Tensen, Sotheby’s International Realty, Los Angeles: One question I always ask sellers when I first meet them is what their budget for renovations is because every house can use a little tune-up before hitting the market. The first thing I do is make sure we fix any glaring issues that could be non-starters. Hello, popcorn ceilings. Hello, wall-to-wall carpet. I have an upcoming listing with a gorgeous and very prominent roofline. That unique roofline would usually be an asset but it is glaringly apparent that the roof needs to be replaced. It’s a big-ticket fix but if we leave it as is, we risk narrowing our buyer pool and selling for a lot less.

Painting can be everything. It is amazing what a couple of gallons of paint can do. Everyone should paint before selling. It sounds super boring but I encourage most people to go bright white in the interior. There are many different ways you can go for the exterior, but I have been loving the darker trends these days. Pair that with a lighter door like a pale aqua or peach and people will be pulling out their checkbooks before they even enter the front door.

Updating bathrooms and kitchens can add a lot, but understand what you already have and make sure you don’t accidentally take out an asset. Nothing breaks my heart more than someone “renovating” a vintage Spanish-tiled bathroom. I just want to yell, “Don’t touch it—it’s perfect the way it is!” Also, depending on the area, people pay a premium for unaltered vintage spaces.

Small details can have a big impact. Think of things like doorknobs, light fixtures and cabinet hardware as the home’s jewelry. They are the emotional details that can elevate a buyer from like to love.

Do-It-Yourselfers, Beware Debbie Weiss, Keller Williams Santa Monica: My advice is always the same. Less is more, in every regard. I recently sold a perfectly cute Spanish house that hadn’t been touched since the 1920s, except for system upgrades and small improvements here and there, and had all its original charm. The sellers were concerned that the kitchen, which had the original cabinetry and an O’Keefe and Merritt stove, hadn’t been updated. I convinced them to clean everything out minus the furniture and let my designer offer suggestions. Follow them and it would sell at top dollar.

The designer came, had them repurpose some of their own furniture and gave some other key suggestions, such as painting and power-blasting the deck. Their house had seven offers and sold for over asking. The renovations just weren’t necessary.

Alternatively, I had one situation where my clients expected over-market for their home because of the renovations they had done themselves. Although potential buyers liked the house, I kept hearing what they would have done differently. Ultimately, the sellers didn’t get the offers they thought the house warranted.

The moral of the story is: If you are doing it for a massive profit, don’t bank on a major renovation. Do it for your enjoyment. And if someone else shares your vision and aesthetic when selling? Bonus. Keep your costs at a minimum and focus on clean and move-in ready, zero clutter and it will sell at a great price regardless. This simple strategy has worked for me time and time again!

Positives in a First Impression Jason Insalaco, Coldwell Banker Residential Brokerage, Los Angeles: Unless a client is flipping a property, I generally do not advise them to significantly remodel if the primary purpose is to increase property value for an upcoming sale. Capricious tastes and shifting trends in design and style make it challenging to increase the value through a high-cost renovation. More importantly, when one takes into consideration the time, inconvenience, carrying costs and financial cost of the improvements, the return on investment is rarely worth the risk.

Clients who seek to optimize sales price should consider installing a new garage door, a new or freshly painted front door, planting annuals, spreading fresh wood chips in planters, and buying some potted bowls of bright flowers for the front porch. All of these improvements can usually be had for less than $5,000 and will present potential buyers with a warm and welcoming facade. A positive first impression should increase value by at least 1 percent to 2 percent.

Getting in Character Cari Corbalis, RE/MAX Estate Properties, Los Angeles: Each property is different, and each seller has a maximum number they are willing to spend on this. Sellers almost universally will get their money back on fresh paint and new carpet, but what is really important here is the colors they use. We have walked into appointments before where the sellers have thought they were being proactive and painted the interior of the house all white. All white interior walls are not the best sales tactic. The house will look stark and not welcoming. The popular trend for interior colors now tends to lean toward the light-gray spectrum. Also having accent walls painted a few shades darker adds depth and character. We often suggest painting kitchen and bath cabinets if they are in good condition, but simply the old-school orangey oak that was so popular a while back.

Installing new light fixtures is another quick and simple item that can update a home immediately with minimal cost.

The Timeless Approach Chris Jacobs, Keller Williams Beverly Hills: First impressions are everything. Curb appeal and landscaping are very important since it’s the first thing a buyer sees. Neutral colors are important, and the seller has to remember that it needs to appeal to a large audience, so skip any sort of “custom” items.

Updates to bathrooms, such as putting in new fixtures and inexpensive tile that looks great, always increase value. Your property will appeal to a much larger crowd when the work is done, and you won’t miss out on the buyers who are too busy with life to make renovations after they purchase a home.

I have dealt with clients who spent a lot of money on renovations that meant something only to them. I listed a property in Beverly Hills and the owner had pavers imported from Italy to put around the pool and added high-end fixtures that were a very specific taste. The seller wanted to list the property at a higher price because of the custom items, but it would have been a mistake.

Sellers have to remember that just because these items are special to you, it doesn’t mean that other buyers are going to like them. My advice to sellers is to always avoid things that are too custom and always try to go with something that is timeless.

©2019 Los Angeles Times Visit the Los Angeles Times at www.latimes.com Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC

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[canttalktumbling]

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Death to Sprues: Dead of Winter

We are so thrilled to welcome back guest writer Anton and his board game review series Death to Sprues! Hooray!

It has come to the point when a zombie theme in a product is actually a negative. Zombies have become an ironic trope of self-reflection on consumer culture, yet the banal writing and theme keep on shambling. All that being said, I really think the Dead of Winter board games by Plaid Hat Games are worth your time.

The first game in the series is titled Dead of Winter: A Crossroads Game. Plaid Hat apparently intends to have more Crossroads games in the future with varying themes and perhaps game types. At this point the only other Crossroads game is Dead of Winter: The Long Night. The Long Night is a standalone expansion, meaning it can be combined with the original game to give it more content but everything needed to play is included if you don’t have the first game on hand. I’ll compare the two games later, but know that the core mechanics are identical.

Players take on the roles of survivor bands, usually controlling one to four unique people throughout the course of the game. At the start of the game you set the colony’s mission (some kind of game-long objective you’re all working towards). This usually involves pooling resources of one kind or another a small scenario such as how many rounds you have to complete it, and how the morale of the camp is at the outset. You will use your small cadre to cooperatively collect supplies, construct fortifications, keep the colony clean, and of course, kill zombies. Each playable survivor has a few simple statistics, but the focus is on one unique ability that they do much better than anyone else. Some survivors can move around easily, some are good at killing zombies without risk, and others are good at searching for loot, or helping others achieve their tasks faster. The survivors are easy to keep track of, and having to control more than one does not lead to keeping track of oodles of numbers and traits.

The gameplay area is dominated by the survivor colony and six main locations in the surrounding town. These areas represent resource hubs such as the school, the hospital, the police station, etc. Each location offers varying amounts of game resources, but logically tends to contain more of thematically linked items. The grocery store, for example, is a pretty good place to get food for the colony or yourself, whereas the police station has guns, the gas station has fuel, and so on. Each location has four to five resource types, but tends to offer one more abundantly than any other location. Players will likely spend the majority of the game sifting through the item decks for much needed supplies.

The game plays out in rounds, starting with introducing a crisis demanding the colony’s immediate attention. This can be something like a cold snap requiring extra fuel to keep the colony warm or medicine to cure food poisoning. The result is some kind of resource demand and the potential for all players to contribute. Helping the crisis requires players to submit their contribution by playing resource cards face down so no one else can see what’s going into the pile. Playing the appropriate resource helps the cause, while playing unrelated or junk cards into this pile can disastrously sabotage the effort as each unrelated card is a -1 to the total, negating a helpful card in the process. This means players often have to help, say they can’t help and hope their mitt full of cards isn’t suspicious, or maybe wrecking the team effort is what they want?

On top of the colony’s mission, each player is dealt their own secret objective. This is a win condition that is unique to the player, and is in addition to the successful completion of the mission. This means you want to help the colony, but you’ve got your own agenda to fulfill as well and you can’t tell anyone else what it is! Usually the secret objectives are to have a small supply of a resource hoarded to yourself, or it might be to have every survivor you control armed with a weapon. The variety here is quite broad, so the replay value is great. It also leads to some seriously tough decisions for players. Should you help the current crisis by delving into your personal cache of fuel that you need to win? Is it acceptable to fail the crisis this round and suffer the penalty, knowing you might not be able to replace the fuel if you contribute? The secret objectives inject a bit of suspicion and quirky behavior into the game—and then you have betrayers.

The betrayer is the player who was dealt a specific secret objective that labels them as a hidden villain. Their win condition always involves having the colony fail its mission, while they fulfill some hidden requirements of their own. Like regular secret objectives, betrayers usually have to hoard a resource, but often at a larger scale since they likely don’t have to care about some of the crises failing. The main challenge of a betrayer is staying hidden. Everyone has their own secret objective, and may be prone to questionable choices that hamper team efforts, but you’ve got to avoid being labeled as outright sabotaging the team. If you’re too obvious and flippant with your subterfuge, you’ll likely be exiled from the colony and forced to scavenge for supplies without any helpful teammates. There are a few really nasty tricks players can do to each other that I’ll leave you to discover on your own but, needless to say, once you don’t care about another player’s survival you can really throw them to the wolves.

Just moving around the town proves to be one of the more dangerous actions in the game, as it introduces one of the game’s main components: the exposure die. This die represents the risk of coming in contact with zombies, and is absolutely merciless. The best outcome from this die is for “nothing” to happen; otherwise, you find yourself getting wounded, catching frostbite, or straight-up dying instantly. Getting the fatal “bite” result on the die sets off a cascade of tension. If a survivor is bitten, they put every other survivor in their location at risk. The next survivor in their location must then make a choice: kill themselves to prevent further infection, or take their own chance with the exposure die. When rolling the die to resolve infection spreading, any result other than a blank side is instant death and passes the torch on to yet another survivor at the same location.

Fighting zombies also causes players to roll the exposure die to see if the alternatively dead person caused any return harm when attacked. The ghouls are naturally attracted to where humans are but are also drawn by the noises generated when you thoroughly search the resource deck at a town location. You can take the top card when searching or noisily sift through additional cards at the price of possibly attracting hostile attention.

The last important mechanic of Dead of Winter is the Crossroads deck. This is a pile of narrative cards drawn on every player’s turn. Each Crossroads card has a trigger condition such as, “If the player searches at the School this turn” that then leads to a scenario playing out, and a decision for the players to make. Most of the Crossroads cards are bad, and you’re forced to choose the lesser of two evils, but some yield positive results depending on how you look at them. The active player is never privy to the triggering conditions for their Crossroads card, so tension is often the result. Some cards are very easy to trigger, while others call upon very specific circumstances yet are thematically linked to specific survivors and often provide an interesting flavor. If the card is not triggered, it’s simply discarded and the next turn progresses.

Dead of Winter, if nothing else, provides players with a variety of decisions that are meaningful. The game is all about resource management, and worker placement. With the limited actions I could take each turn, I never felt like any turn was a ”dead turn” with nothing to play, or minute choices that didn’t matter. Dead of Winter seems to revel in giving players enough freedom to do a multitude of actions, yet not enough time to do them all. You often find yourself with two to three things that need immediate attention, and you’re only able to do half of one. That’s where the teamwork and smart movement of your survivors comes in. Dead of Winter is a tense and challenging experience but is enjoyable the whole way through.

One of the best strengths of the Dead of Winter games is how modular they are. When your play group decides on the mission your colony will go after, it gives you an approximate game length of short/medium/long allowing you to tailor your time commitment. If having a betrayer in the colony doesn’t suit you, just don’t play with those objectives shuffled into the deck. You can even remove the secret objectives entirely and play a purely cooperative game where everyone is working towards the mission undistracted.

The Long Night expansion adds even more modular options to extend gameplay variety. You can add in the Raxxon pharmaceuticals lab where scientific experiments have gone awry and spawned super zombies. The Raxxon lab also offers some really powerful weapons to those who rummage through its resource deck, and you could even find mysterious pills that offer powerful bonuses or crippling detriments. You can also add in bandits coming from a competing colony. The bandits will attack just like zombies, but also steal resources from the town and hoard them in their own depot. Will you wage war on the bandits and steal resources back, or will you be exiled and become their leader?

The versatility of Dead of Winter really has to be applauded, and that’s why I mentioned the theme at the outset. If you aren’t a fan of zombies, Dead of Winter may still interest you for its smart narrative elements that come from secret objectives and Crossroads cards. If you are a huge zombie fan, Dead of Winter can really spark your imagination with its risk-reward dynamic of racing against the game rounds as zombies pile up against the colony doors and need to be culled here and there.

The best part about Dead of Winter is that the survivors and their struggle is what the game is all about; the zombies are in the background. This makes for a game where the survival and teamwork is center stage, and the necro-challenged are a MacGuffin. The alt-blight movement could just as easily be a sandstorm, rising flood waters, or a pack of rampaging space ibex. They simply fill the role of a hostile environment that the humans must work around.

I highly recommend either Dead of Winter or The Long Night standalone expansion. If you have both, you can really expand the experience. The Long Night adds resource cards that are a little more versatile than the original game, you’ll often have cards that can do two or more actions instead of acting as a single resource. The supply decks of each location are locked at 20 cards though. Do you want to replace them, mix them and get 20 random cards from the pool of 40 for each location knowing you might get the junk from both halves? The Long Night also has tighter thematic elements. As you add or subtract modules to the game, there are Crossroads cards and even specific survivors that come into play at the same time. A couple of Crossroads cards are only in play if the bandits are, for example, and one survivor’s unique power is tied to the Raxxon lab. The Long Night also replaces some components in the original game with more sturdy cardboard pieces.

Between the two games, I’d favor The Long Night. It has better components, and more modules to add to the game on top of the basic experience. The resources in The Long Night tend to serve multiple purposes, and the survivor powers are a bit more unique. The smaller Crossroads deck in The Long Night is also a bit more heavy on theme, and there is even a small 9 card envelope of particularly horrific Crossroads cards that Plaid Hat warns will explore the darker side of humanity in crisis. The thicker Crossroads deck from the original game is a good selling point, but the fact that it costs as much as the whole game to get it makes it an inefficient purchase if you get The Long Night first. Both are excellent games, just be aware that the expansion makes going back to the original a bit thin on a few fronts.