#not a single green arrow fan wants that man to have money

[hawkzeyes]

I know Ollie is like lost in different universes right now but I hope Joshua has the spine to make him flat broke with this series after it all settles in the dust LMFAOO I’m so serious.

[abbcube]

seeing the words Not In The Groove in your comment made me gasp irl i love that game its such a damn banger

have this gif its funny i think

Always happy to see another NotITG fan! It's truly criminal how few people know about this game. And I've been meaning to learn the chart in that gif for a while. Maybe soon 🤔

Also, this means I now have an excuse to yell about this game to the sorry fools who made the mistake of following me. So...

(Moderate photosensitivity warning btw, this stuff can get spicy for the eyes)

HYPERFIXATION BE UPON YE

I now get the chance to talk about a game I feel exceedingly n̸͓̒̍o̶̹̿͠r̷͚͇͗m̴͈͒̐a̸̝͉̒ĺ̶̹̹̆about.

What's NotITG??

Not In The Groove, or NotITG/nITG for short, is a rhythm game with some of the craziest & most creative visuals you'll ever see. It's an extravaganza of colors, music, and lots and lots of arrows. Words don't do it justice though, so here's an example:

(HiTECH NINJA - Technician's High)

(Chart by Exschwasion + Tetaes)

Whoa, what the fuck was that? Is that even readable?

Yes it is, I promise! It just takes some practice. These are made to be not only doable, but completely feasible to read & learn. They wouldn't be fun otherwise. It's also not nearly as bad as it looks at first glance, especially if you know what sort of stuff you should be looking out for.

In fact, here are some things that can make it a little easier to parse:

The colors of the arrows are indicative of the timing (reds are on quarter notes, blues are eighth notes, greens are sixteenth notes, etc). This means it's possible to identify the rhythm of a song even if you've never heard it before.

If visual effects are getting particularly crazy, it can be helpful to read ahead and quickly memorize a "chunk" of notes to play while your vision is impaired, picking back up when the screen is clearer.

Charts (the arrows for a given song) are made to be played on a dance pad, with your feet. Furthermore, any half-decent chart commits to having good flow (or posture) meaning that the patterns you see are made to be "stepped" through with alternating* feet. This vastly limits the number of possible patterns that can be thrown at you. So if you happen to lose your place while reading the chart, it's very feasible to infer what the next few steps will be, giving you a chance to recover.

(*depending on the song, a chart may have you hit the same step multiple times with the same foot. There are other exceptions too but that could warrant its own section entirely)

If you want a way better explanation of this stuff, some prominent devs in the community did a great job covering all of it during the game's exhibition during AGDQ2022!

This looks completely and utterly insane, there's no way I'd ever be able to play this!

That's where you're wrong, bucko! They aren't all made to be difficult! There are plenty of easier charts out there to learn the basics on & get your bearings. Some of my favorites include:

(Chroma - Phantom Train Journey)

(Chart by Kaypooma)

(Sakuzyo - Altale)

(Chart by PlasticRainbow + mrcool909090)

How do these even get made?

Good old programming! Also math. Lots and lots of math. You wanna make the arrow follow a funny path? Time to learn what a spline is. Want to make a circle? Hope you were paying attention in trig class, because it's time to break out the radians.

In all seriousness, I have nothing but the highest respect for the people that make charts for NotITG. Every single one of them is a culmination of music, art, programming, math, animation, visual design, game design, psychology, kinesiology and so, so much more. It's genuinely dizzying how multitalented these people are.

I'm interested in these man-made horrors beyond my comprehension! Where can I play this game?

You can download it from the game's website: noti.tg. It's free! Completely! There is no way to spend money on it. You'll just have to live with the fact that you can't give these talented creators your money.

I'd also recommend joining the game's discord (noti.tg/discord). They're incredibly helpful & friendly, just don't be a jerk :p. It should have some good information & resources for when you're starting out.

I feel like I've barely even scratched the surface of what makes this game special. I could probably make a whole other post rambling about the lore of UKSRT and the effect that's had on me, but this post is long enough as is.

If there's even one person who read this far, thank you for listening to the ramblings of a madman obsessed with a funny little arrow game! ❤️

[ufonaut]

I can't remember if it was you who said that Dixon did the biggest gay coding for Connor, sorry if I'm sending him to the wrong person, but I did come across an article where it said that Dixon doesn't want Connor to be gay. www(.)advocate(.)com/arts-entertainment/entertainment-news/2003/01/15/green-arrows-not-gay-insists-writer-7468

well it must be me because everyone else merely talks about missing how connor was written in the nineties then conveniently ignores the man who wrote 99.9% of connor's appearances back then, right?

for the record here's what i said on dixon (x, x). note how all i did was disagree that dixon would "want" connor to be homophobic because that makes no sense whatsoever with the character he'd built from the ground up? and how the way connor's written in 90s green arrow makes for much more pleasant gaycoding than green arrow 2001 roy being like "hm you behave in ways i consider feminine there's no way you aren't gay" (ga 2001 #32)? here's the thing: chuck dixon often talks about making a conscious effort to distance his politics from the characters he's writing. hell, he's written midnighter & apollo with no issues whatsoever

(from this interview, which i'm pretty sure is where your linked article got its quote too)

i personally believe he's mostly successful because he's a good enough writer to pull it off, i think we can all agree the connor hawke he created was a highly complex character -- a sensitive young man with a desire to belong who was often perceived as naive because of the steps he took to make kindness the driving force in his life -- and that's precisely the connor the majority of fans, whether they like it or not, fell in love with. there's no other version of connor hawke out there that's half as compelling and it's undeniable that dixon himself loved connor & eddie as much as i/we do, after all he's the one who gave them appearances in literally every title he was writing at the time after green arrow itself got cancelled and we got to continue the story of their found family for a little longer.

here's another fact for you: nothing like character deaths or their sexuality or anything remotely major gets decided by one single writer. here's a look into it from an editor who worked at dc at the time and note that the idea got rejected by higher-ups and that's editorial/publishing/what have you, not the actual writer of the title

gaycoding doesn't have to be intentional and it very rarely is in the hands of straight writers, the only prerequisite of it is a narrative that resonates with a certain group of people and allows a specific reading of it. that's very much the case with 90s green arrow and i find both connor and eddie to be tremendously gaycoded (hello to eddie's old war buddy from #109 who outright asks him if he's helping out "for love or for money" and eddie admits he didn't know the guy had any money) and in part, i think we owe that to chuck dixon's love for the characters and the care he took in constructing & writing them. that's all. i never once believed he set out to write a gay narrative and don't particularly care that he didn't but the text itself is clear enough and so's dixon's effort not to allow his own opinions to intrude on it

[sugarqvills]

links: pinterest, bio

BASICS

FULL NAME: Emmeline Asteria Vance PRONUNCIATION: Emmeline  Asteria  Vance MEANING: Emmeline ( Germanic - Work; French - Industrious, Hardworking; Latin - Little Rival ), Asteria ( Latin - Star ), Vance ( English - Fen, Marsh ) REASONING: Emmeline’s given name comes from her her paternal grandmother. Her middle name sprung from her mother’s once-great love for Greek mythology. NICKNAME(S): Emme, Vance. BIRTH DATE: 24 December - 12:32 PM AGE: Nineteen ZODIAC: Capricorn Sun, Libra Moon, Aries Rising

Capricorn is the tenth sign of the zodiac and governs the bones, joints, and knees. Positive traits include pragmatism, maturity, patience, determination, awareness, a strong work ethic, realism, discipline, money management, the willingness to overcome hard luck, leadership, initiative, opportunism, prudence, and cunning. Negative traits include pessimism, melancholy, emotional coldness, manipulation, obsession with work and ambitions to the detriment of personal development, remoteness, and materialistic snobbery.

The traits emphasized here will be ambition, determination, discipline, and pragmatism. You can’t make that castle in the sky if you don’t build a solid foundation under it, and Capricorns excel at building foundations. (Actually, they excel at planning the foundations and directing others to do the grunt labour. It’s not that they’re afraid to get their hands dirty, but large work usually requires delegation and a staff, and Capricorns are managers more often than not.) While not flamboyant or showy about it, Capricorns still tend to be obsessive overachievers, a common trait in House Slytherin. Too, wizards born under the sign of Capricorn are good at being discreet, secretive, and diplomatic; whereas the Libra’s diplomacy is based on charm and a desire for harmony, the Capricorn’s diplomacy is based on the knowledge that being on good terms with people is extremely useful in getting one’s way or finding out sensitive information. These also are traits commonly associated with House Slytherin. They might not be sexy traits, but they’re very handy.

GENDER: Cisgender Female PRONOUNS: She/Her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual. NATIONALITY: Irish ETHNICITY: White

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: Athenry, Ireland HOMETOWN: Athenry, Ireland SOCIAL CLASS: Upper Class EDUCATION LEVEL: Hogwarts, sixth year HOUSE: Slytherin FATHER: Oliver Vance, 56, Former Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office ( DECEASED ) MOTHER: Rosalyn Vance neé Rowle, 54, Former Member of the Wizengamot ( DECEASED ) SIBLING(S): None. EXTENDED FAMILY: Constance Vance, 86 ( paternal grandmother ) BIRTH ORDER: Only child. PET(S): Pawcrates - six year old black cat.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 6/10 OFFENSE: 8.5/10 DEFENSE: 9/10 SPEED: 8/10 INTELLIGENCE: 9/10 ACCURACY: 9/10 AGILITY: 8/10 STAMINA: 8/10 TEAMWORK: While Emmeline is capable of doing well with a group, she prefers to work on her own. She’ll help where she can, but would far prefer if she were left to her own devices. TALENTS: Dueling. Critical thinking. Planning. Drinking at least one entire bottle of wine by herself in a single sitting. SHORTCOMINGS: Unhealthy coping mechanisms. Emotionally repressive. Doesn’t let others in easily. Negative thinking. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, Irish Gaelic, Latin. DRIVE?: No. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: No. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: No. RIDE A BICYCLE?: Yes. SWIM?: Yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: The piano, thanks to Gran. PLAY CHESS?: Yes, though she would prefer to spend her free time doing other things. TIE A TIE?: Yes. PICK A LOCK?: No.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Alycia Debnam-Carey. EYE COLOR: Green. HAIR COLOR: Brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Normally, Emmeline leaves her hair down, allowing it to fall however it likes. Frequently, she’s been known to throw her hair into a ponytail or loose, messy bun while working, cleaning, or even knitting. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: No. DOMINANT HAND: Right. Emmeline is ambidextrous, but tends to favour her right hand more often than her left. HEIGHT: 165 cm ( 5′5″ ) WEIGHT: 55 kg ( 121 pounds ) BUILD: Slender. EXERCISE HABITS: Despite knowing that she should do more, Emmeline more often than not spends time at home knitting and drinking, rather than running or doing other exercises. SKIN TONE: Fair. TATTOOS: At present, Emmeline has none. PIERCINGS: Just a single hole in each ear. MARKS/SCARS: Emmeline has a few small scars from her childhood, most notable is the one on her right hand, near the thumb. Most don’t even notice it, unless they know precisely what they’re looking for. USUAL EXPRESSION: Emmeline’s typical expression is one without a smile. To many, she could come across as cold or uncaring; it’s not that she actively tries to dissuade people talking to her, it’s just what happens, especially when she’s focused. Once put around friends, however, the demeanour changes and there are more smile than one might otherwise find. CLOTHING STYLE: Emmeline is a big fan of loose, simple tops or button-ups with more fitted trousers. On very rare or special occasions, she may wear a dress, though it is never anything more than a sold colour with simple accents. In addition to her comfortable tops, Emmeline is also a fan of flannel shirts and heavier, knitted jumpers when it starts to get cold. JEWELRY: Simple silver studs for earrings in her daily life, a small silver music note pendant on a thin silver chain that she got from Gran for her thirteenth birthday. Otherwise, Emmeline isn’t one for jewelry. ALLERGIES: None, as far as she knows.

QUESTIONS

How does your character behave around people they like? Emmeline is more relaxed around those she likes. Though she isn’t the most easy-going person in the world, she is more inclined to make jokes, laugh, and not stress as much as she normally does. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person? As a rule, Emmeline is very hesitant to trust others. However, once you have her trust, there are very few things you could do to lose it and have her suspect you of something terrible. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation? Words are typically Emmeline’s go-to in a confrontational situation. There have been many instances where she’s eventually just walked away from someone rather than allow things to progress. In extreme instances, hexes and jinxes have been thrown, but as far as she can remember, there has never been anything more than a slap. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like? It was a very strained relationship, if it could be called a relationship at all. She knew very little about the man he was in his later years, and what she knew of his formative years had only been the result of stories her Gran told her over the years. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others? Though it generally tends to vary from person to person, she would probably tell you that she admires ambition more often than not. What does your character like in other people? There are a host of things she likes in others, but the first few that come to mind are: the ability to learn from their mistakes, forgiveness, a desire to learn in general, whether or not they are capable of growing as a person, honesty. Compassion for other people. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method? A bit of both. Just because her first attempt didn’t work the way she wanted it to, doesn’t mean she’ll abandon it in its entirety. With each failed attempt, an adjustment is made. It’s only once she has exhausted every possible method that she can think of that she will move on to a different one. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? Saying “I love you” is one of, if not the most, difficult things for Emmeline to do. She has a problem letting herself love other people; there is a constant fear of abandonment, of not being enough, of disappointing them. She struggles to let those she truly cares for know just how much they mean to her. If she can say it to you, then there’s no chance it’s meaningless. She doesn’t have it in her to force something of that magnitude and not mean it. The only person Emmeline has never struggled with those words over is her Gran. The woman who spent so much of her life trying to instill certain values into her granddaughter. The person who raised Emmeline, who wanted nothing but the best for her. The one person Emmeline always thought would be her only constant, the only person she would be willing to die to protect. When she wasn’t in school or working, Emmeline tried to make it a priority to tell the older woman how much she loved her and appreciated all that she had done over the years

INSPIRATIONS & TRAITS

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: prudence halliwell ( charmed ), sally owens ( practical magic ), jessica jones ( jessica jones ), amy santiago ( brooklyn nine nine ), laurel castillo ( how to get away with murder ), wynona earp ( wynona earp ), cristina yang ( grey’s anatomy ), rosa diaz ( brooklyn nine nine ), caitlin snow ( the flash ), rosita espinosa ( the walking dead ), laurel lance ( arrow ), raymond holt ( brooklyn nine nine ), rory gilmore ( gilmore girls ), lucy preston ( timeless ), peyton sawyer ( one tree hill )

AESTHETIC: piano notes softly filling an empty room, storms raging outside while you sit in the comfort of your home, books towering so high you can’t see over them, hot tea in a chipped mug, freshly baked red velvet cake cooling on the counter, four cups of coffee in the morning just to feel like you’re somewhat there, the faintest whiff of whisky lingering in the air after an especially trying night, the deafening silence that slowly envelops you when the numbness sets in, unfinished knitting projects lying lazily over chair arms by the fireplace

SONGS: made of stone - daughter / cherry wine - hozier / that i would be good - alanis morissette / please don't say you love me - gabrielle aplin / breathe me - sia / you say - lauren daigle / hard times ( ballad ) - halocene / dear happy - gabrielle aplin / lovely - lauren babic and seraphim POSITIVE TRAITS: assiduous, strong-willed, intelligent, dedicated, tidy NEGATIVE TRAITS: melancholic, self-blaming, stubborn, inflexible NEUTRAL TRAITS: ambitious, sarcastic, quiet, restrained

[dccomicsnews]

Now that Arrow has concluded an incredible eight-season run, I couldn’t help reflecting on more than what happened on the show itself during that timespan. It wasn’t just enough to reminisce on what happened to the Emerald Archer on the small screen, but also to look back on what transpired in my own life over that period.

The more I got to thinking, this game-changing TV series was running parallel to my career as a writer. Although Arrow got things started by premiering in October 2012, I wasn’t lagging too far behind when I began as a volunteer contributor at Comic Book Movie in July 2013. As the show grew, I did likewise as a person and a writer – and there was more than a little overlap.

From this point on, I’ll sum up the finer points of my journey so that you can see the affect an inspiring work of fiction such as Arrow can have on a real person. I hope you all enjoy this piece, and you’re more than welcome to share your own stories in the comments section. Our own Damian Fasciani recently wrote a retrospective of his own, so click here if you would like to check out that as well.

My Name Is Oliver Queen, I Mean, Eric Joseph

Like I said, my time as a writer pretty much ran parallel to Arrow as it grew from a standalone superhero show/crime drama into something that birthed an entire universe of comic book adaptations on television. I didn’t stick around at the aforementioned CBM for too long, later making my way to Dark Knight News (2014-17) and We Got This Covered (2015-19).

Along the way, I had the chance to meet various cast members at different points during the series’ lifespan, thereby lending multiple perspectives on the tale as it grew. Some of them them I merely met at conventions, while others I actually got to interview.

Motor City Comic Con (you’re going to see that one referenced a lot) was often the means I had of making this all possible. In 2014 alone, I was able to shake hands with Katie Cassidy (Laurel Lance), John Barrowman (Malcolm Merlyn) and Robert Knepper (Clock King). Cool as that was, it prepared me for the interview opportunity I’d get with Michael Rowe (Deadshot) in 2015.

2016 was a mixed bag, as I met – but didn’t interview – Katrina Law (Nyssa al Ghul), though I did get to speak with Echo Kellum (Mister Terrific) over the phone. I won’t forget either of those experiences, but I’m holding out hope that Kellum will roll through Detroit as some point so that I may actually meet him face-to-face.

If you’re keeping track, these encounters went down near the conclusions of seasons 2, 3 and 4, respectively, with the Echo Kellum phoner happening right before the “Invasion!” crossover. Dedicated fans of Arrow shouldn’t have to strain themselves remembering what each of these characters were going through at those times, and what it must’ve been like to hear, say, Katie Cassidy tease the inevitable Black Canary reveal, or how Kellum’s Curtis Holt may deal with Dominators.

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Cosplay

It’s at this time I’ll discuss the cosplay element. This is a field to which I’m certainly no stranger, and I always wanted to own an awesome-looking superhero costume. Seeing as how Batman is my favorite character, he’d be a no-brainer, right?

Well, if you’ve looked around at gear online, then you know how Batman costumes that don’t look like crap are quite expensive. This was key in my motivation for instead laying down money on a replica of the Green Arrow suit worn by Stephen Amell in seasons 5-7. For an affordable price, I felt every bit as badass as my onscreen hero, and the compliments from fellow convention attendees never cease whenever I choose to suit up. Heck, I’ve even worn that thing to a cosplay beach party!

Although I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at the Dark Knight at some point, there’s something inherently altruistic I’ve noticed about guys cosplaying as Batman that I don’t think I share. But Oliver Queen (at least The CW’s version) is flawed. He’s made mistakes unlike those of Bruce Wayne’s. He’s done stuff he’s not particularly proud of – but he never stops trying to better himself. That, I found relatable, and it occurs to me when I flip up that hood.

All that said, you couldn’t believe how elated I was when Stephen Amell himself shared a DC group cosplay photo taken at Youmacon 2017 (above) on his Facebook page for one of his “Fan Art Fridays.” Yes, I was the one who submitted it, but to see the man himself deeming myself and the accompanying DC enthusiasts worthy of sharing with his fanbase at large was truly touching.

Which brings me to…

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The Main Event

If I have to single out my favorite event ever attended, that honor will probably go to Motor City Comic Con 2018. Should you have been there as well, then you’ll recall how that particular show was an embarrassment of riches when it came to booking actors from superhero shows – and where I finally met Stephen Amell himself.

Hey, he may have not been doing interviews for that weekend, but getting a photo with him and attending his panel meant the world to me. Despite him being only a few years older in age, that doesn’t mean I can’t look to him as a positive example.  I mean, the guy is known for having an incredible connection with his fans, doing charity work, and has even appeared on American Ninja Warrior.

Speaking of which, a lot of praise could be thrown Kirk Acevedo’s way as well. The man responsible for bringing the inhumane Ricardo Diaz to life is actually an awesome person himself. I actually did get to interview him during that weekend, as we discussed what was next for “The Dragon” in season 6.

Before I move on, I’d like to give an honorable mention to one Cress Williams. Black Lightning may have not been part of the Arrowverse at the time, but it sure is now. I likewise interviewed him on behalf of WGTC, as he was just cooling off after a spectacular debut season.

Fadeout

If there’s any impression I’d like this article to leave on you, the reader, it’s that you shouldn’t let anyone tell you it’s silly to say a TV show can impact you. Arrow, The Flash, Black Lightning and countless others can be a driving force in inspiring ourselves to become better people. To Stephen Amell, his co-stars and crew, I thank you all for eight years of phenomenal storytelling – and I hope to once again meet the people mentioned above.

You helped me become someone else…something else.

Reflecting On A Personal Journey Through Arrow's World Now that Arrow has concluded an incredible eight-season run, I couldn't help reflecting on more than what happened on the show itself during that timespan.

[kalinara]

Rip Week #1  The Many Faces of Rip

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything positive about Legends of Tomorrow.  However, it’s Rip Hunter Appreciation Week, which is a time meant for positivity!   At one point this show, and this character, had me blogging meta on a daily basis for almost two and a half years and introduced me to some great people! And I will always be grateful for that.

So the topic for Day 1 of Rip Hunter Appreciation Week: The Many Faces of Rip Hunter.

One thing that still fascinates me about Rip as a character is that, even though he’d only been a central character on the show for 1.5 seasons, we’ve gotten to see so many different sides of the character.  He’s been deconstructed so thoroughly and so fascinatingly, allowing us to really appreciate what makes the character tick.

Let’s start with Rip himself, the baseline number.  The guy who kidnapped a bunch of assholes, brought them to the roof of a tall building (and I still wonder how the stringy little bastard actually managed that) and gave them a sales pitch of a lifetime.

From the opening scene of the pilot, to Rip’s almost goodbye into the sun in Legendary, season one was first and foremost the story of a man broken by grief and betrayal, who slowly, and reluctantly found a reason to go on, and people to share it with.  Rip spent season one a raw, open wound, ugly in his pain and rage.  He tried very hard not to stay focused on his goal. He tried very hard not to care about his team.

He failed pretty much on day one, when he saved Martin Stein’s marriage.  He failed again not too long after that when he abandoned the closest thing he had to a working plan to get Carter’s body back for Kendra.  And he kept failing over and over again.

And they saved him.  They challenged him.  They forced him to look outside of his single-focused obsession and look at the people that they could save around them.  They forced him to take a long hard look at what he was doing when he started to go too far.  And he very clearly and very obviously loved them for it.

I still can’t believe that fandom still tries to claim that Rip didn’t care about his team, when we saw how broken he was after each major loss: Carter, Leonard, even Jax (almost).  That’s not a man who is unfeeling.

We saw Rip as a child: a tiny savage creature who, even when warm and fed, was still ready to stab the nearest adult who threatened him.  It gave a new, fascinating insight to the tension Rip had with both Leonard Snart and Mick Rory.  As well as possibly another reason that he’d bonded with Sara so strongly.  Rip is someone who understands what it means to become a monster in order to survive, and what it means to have to live with that afterward.  It likely does make it difficult when face to face with people who represented the worst of that time (and that’s not even touching on how child Rip probably met a number of people who looked and acted similar to our lovable Rogues, and it likely would not have ended well.)

We’ve never really seen the man Rip was before he was broken.  Except perhaps for a giddy romantic moment with Miranda and that horrible humiliation when they were caught.  We’ve heard a bit more: from that pirate in Marooned, from Magister Druce and Jonah Hex.   We can draw inferences: a man who was capable and skilled (though perhaps not as skilled as his wife :-)), who never the less was a rulebreaker at heart.  Someone who fell in love with the idea of heroism to the point where he almost left the Time Masters entirely.  Someone who, while loyal, wasn’t quite willing to trust his masters with the tool to unmake reality.  But at the same time, someone whose fundamental trust in INDIVIDUALS like Mary Xavier and Magister Druce, survived even when his world fell apart.

At the end of season 1, we got a Rip Hunter who was ready to finally move past his grief, and it will forever be something of a disappointment to me that the series decided to give us a time jump instead of actually showing us Rip learning to be part of a real team.

But season 2 did give us a truly fascinating deconstruction of Rip Hunter as an individual.

One very common plot in almost every superhero’s story is the depowerment story arc.  Who is our hero when he doesn’t have what makes him a hero?  It’s most common for men like Superman of course, but we even get it for folks like Batman or Green Arrow.  What are these men without their money, or their physicality?

What is Rip Hunter without his knowledge, his memories, or his time machine?

Well, we saw him.  And he was adorable!  Phil Gasmer was a hilarious story beat, but unlike maybe certain other storyline elements that we see in later seasons, there was also a point to Phil Gasmer.  Phil Gasmer showed us the kind of man that Rip Hunter is deep down.

He’s creative.  He’s clever.  He’s determined.  He’s a little whiny.  And definitely high.  Rip is a man who would benefit from a little unofficial pharmaceutical help.  He’s a man who, when the world suddenly goes sideways, will first attempt to protect his friend.  He’s a man who, when face to face with a stranger with scary abilities, will try to hit him with a script.  He’s a man who loves his team so much that even when he has no conscious recollection of them, he made them the basis of his movie.  And he’s a man who walked out to face the Legion to save a bunch of strangers who kidnapped him, because it was the right thing to do.

I’d like to think in another universe, Phil didn’t get kidnapped by Eobard Thawne there, but instead made it back on the ship, where the crew actually got the chance to get to know Rip without all the baggage.  I think they’d have gotten along.

And then there’s evil Rip.

“Teammate goes evil” storylines are a dime a dozen, in superhero lore, but there’s a reason for that.  When done well, they can be amazing.  And ultimately, I think the evil Rip storyline was done very well.

One of the things that I always liked about the evil Rip storyline is how it utterly destroyed that pervasive (and wrong!) fan idea that Rip never cared about his team.  Because they showed us a Rip who didn’t care about his team, and he was a fucking scary son of a bitch.

He also showed us how Rip’s best worst enemy was always going to be himself.  Because holy shit, Rip is competent when he’s not tripping himself up.  Turncoat was terrifying in all the best ways, and even that opening of Land of the Lost was amazing.  It’s still very amusing to me that the most effective member of the Legion of Doom was the one Eobard brainwashed into it.

One thing I always found fascinating about evil Rip is that, for all that he lacks Rip’s compassion, empathy and love, he didn’t go the usual scenery chewing sadist route.  He’s a monster, of course.  He was perfectly happy to murder Sara, to carve the spear piece out of McNider, and brainwash the entire knights of Camelot.  But it was always a measured sort of evil.

Evil Rip had a goal, and evil Rip pursued his goal.  And if he could get what he wanted in a relatively non-disruptive and non-violent way, he was willing to try it.  He had no interest in terrorizing the Waverider crew once he had the spear piece from them, even when he saw that Sara had survived her murder.  He tried to trick McNider, only resorting to violence when McNider saw through it.  When he had control of the knights, he just had them stand there, much to Darhk’s boredom, rather than playacting some farce for his amusement as some of the others might have done.

Evil Rip was our chance to appreciate how truly formidable Rip could actually be, and also appreciate those qualities that kept him from turning into that monster again.

My biggest disappointment in this story arc was how little we got to see Rip interact with the other members of the Legion.  His interactions with Eobard and Darhk, in what little we had, were very entertaining.  But we never saw him interact with Malcolm at all (I admit to being intrigued by this, because I thought Malcolm had actually had the most interesting dynamic with Phil in Legion of Doom), and we never saw Eobard react to his capture.  Missed opportunities or food for fanfic?

I don’t know if Doomworld Rip really counts, but I have to admit that, compared to some of Rip’s other coping mechanisms, baking cakes to deal with a year of solitary confinement (Gideon sort of counts, but she’s just a voice at this point), is pretty good for him.  I hope he actually got a chance to eat them.

The idea behind Rip at the Time Bureau really was a good one.  The idea that Rip would have created this organization, but specifically designed it to be the antithesis of the Time Masters: open, transparent, and accountable, is a good one.  But unfortunately, season 3 never really explored that to the extent I would have liked.  

It’s hard to imagine the Rip who recruited Sara before she could die with her sister to Damien Darhk would be okay with leaving Zari in a prison without a very good reason.  But we never got that reason.  Of course, maybe he wasn’t.  He wasn’t in that episode.  We know from Ava that he didn’t want her chasing the Legends, and wanted them given “lenience”.  But if he’s not on board with that, how much of the Time Bureau is actually under his control?

Considering that Return of the Mack told us that Rip allowing Darhk to be resurrected in order to confront him with agents was a “sanctioned” plan (that Rip still ends up in prison for, because Rip is just that good with people), that implies a certain level of oversight.  His and Bennett’s dynamic seemed just shy of outright antagonistic.  And certainly Rip seemed a lot more blase about seeing Bennett meet a grisly end than seems warranted.  This is a man who dismantled the team after Leonard Snart died.

I mean, trying to work out coherent characterization for ANYONE in season 3 is a bit of a problem, but I feel like if the Time Bureau had gotten the same level of focus that it gets much later, perhaps some of these things could actually work.  If, for example, there are multiple factions within the Bureau with their own ideas on what the Bureau is supposed to do, (perhaps tied with the oversight that Rip specifically put in place, because there’s nothing more Rip Hunter than getting hoisted up by his own petard), then a lot of the more confused behavior by the organization could make more sense.

In the end though, Rip is still a secretive, scheming bastard who cares very deeply for his team, and I wouldn't give up that wonderful, almost baggage free friendship with Wally for anything. So it does have its good points.

Ultimately, I think that all of these facets make Rip one of the most well-developed and defined characters in the CW-verse, even when compared with others who have had years and years of screentime.  It’s fun to poke around and explore all of these layers and see how they fit.  And it definitely is food for some great fanfic.  I’m told some other Rip fans will be writing some great fic for #RipWeek.  You should go check them out!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #476

“yeah, i am the brain, some say insane”

What is your favorite Pixar film? Finding Nemo. Who was the last person to send you any sort of message on social media? My sister Misty. Would you rather build a snowman or a snow fort? Why? Snowman. I think you can personalize them better. At what age do you believe children should begin having screen time? I don't know. I guess it would depend on the kid. Have you ever failed an important test? Which subject? Yes; I failed my last Algebra final and the course. Who taught you how to ride a bike? How old were you? My dad. Idr how old I was. Do you know what your ring size is? What is it? Nope. When you picture dinosaurs in your head, what color are they? Like a darkish red or green. Last candy you tried that you did not enjoy? Or one that you did enjoy? No clue. Were you a chubby or thin baby? I was your average size. What is the most outrageous thing you’ve considered doing lately? Trying to get a cubicle job. Like seriously, NOBODY wants those. I don't either, but I just don't know what other options I have that don't require a degree and I'm not flocked by other people. I'd probably have some duties on the phone, but like... I'm not going to find a job I qualify for that is perfectly reclusive. Have you ever known somebody who ran away? Not personally, no. Rollercoasters that go upside-down… yes please or no thank you? NO FUCKING THANK YOU. Can you have kids? I would assume so, but honestly I wish I physically couldn't with how intensely I fear being raped. Are you a fan of Elton John? I've never really listened to his music and know very little about him as an individual. What does your town’s name begin with? "R." Are you a seafood fan? Nooooo. The one and only seafood I enjoy is shrimp. Give me a random word in another language. Tell me what it means. "Himmel" is "Heaven" in German. Odd how that was the first one to come to me, ha ha. Which city would you like to visit- Rome, Tunis, London, Madrid or Paris? Rome. New tats in your near future? Sadly no. :/ I have to focus on more important things. Did you ever participate in beauty pageants as a child? No. I don't support those. Have you ever ridden in a limousine before? No, but I've always wanted to. :( What's the most amount of money you'd pay for a house or a vehicle? Idk, considering I'm not familiar enough with what is considered reasonable and average for either. What's the longest wait time you'll wait at a restaurant to be seated? If it was actually up to me, shit, maybe only 15 minutes. I am way too impatient, and I'd rather just go to another place than wait for a while. Have you ever been given a responsibility that you couldn't handle? Did you mean: my past three jobs? Did you ever try to start a club as a child? For what? I feel like my friends and I did before... but I remember nothing of it. Who was your favorite babysitter as a child? My sister had this friend in our neighborhood as a kid whose grandparents used to watch us. The grandpa we knew as "Uncle Donny," and he was bar none our favorite. He was such a sweet man. Have you ever cared for a stray animal before? Cats, on many occasions in the past. [TW: SUICIDE/OVERDOSE] Have you ever contacted a suicide or crisis services hotline? For whom? Yeah, for me. I tried first to reach them online in one of those private chatrooms, but I want to say I waited around 30 minutes with nobody available. I was so desperate that I tried calling too, but again, it was too busy. That's when I ODed. Is there anyone from your family that you no longer associate with? I have an uncle by marriage that's an abusive, manipulative fuck that NOBODY associates with, except his brainwashed daughters. Do you have any illnesses that reoccur frequently? I mean, I have mental illnesses that flare up now and again, but no traditional illnesses. What is your sexual orientation? Queer or pansexual, idk man. Have you ever done any drugs harder than marijuana? I've never even done weed. What is one job you would never want to have? I would, no exaggeration, rather die than be a butcher. I could never in five trillion years. Do you bite or peel your string cheese? I don't like string cheese. Who crosses your mind the most? Girt, nowadays. I know, a fucking shocker who wasn't the answer. Have you ever been on a scavenger hunt? In school, yeah. Ever been to an auction? No. Are there two colors that you just simply despise? Puke green and yellow. If you were a fish, what colour would you like to be? I wanna be the Rainbow Fish. :') Did your first real significant other change you at all? You have literally no idea. Are you waiting to have sex until you’re married? No. What’s your favorite football team? I don't like football. Or even understand it. Do you have anything autographed by a celebrity? No. What’s your favorite way to eat peanut butter? Gimme a Reese's and I'm a happy bitch. :^) What’s your favorite kind of sandwich? I'm basic, just hand me a pb&j. How are you today? Worried about my mother since she has Covid now. I'm not feeling too hot, either. Was any of your home decor inspired by Pinterest? No. What is this month’s calendar picture? I don't own a current calendar. What is your last ex-boyfriend’s or ex-girlfriend’s name? Sara Jane. I prefer to refer to her as just my best friend, though; "ex" usually implies negative feelings in some way or form, and I've none of those. Do you use Snapchat? I never have. Would you rather go out for pancakes or steak? Yum, pancakes. Are you the clubbing type? No. Clubs don't appeal to me at all. Is your ex sexually attractive to you still? I haven't seen him in literally years. I wouldn't know. What is unattractive about them? The fact he apparently can't accept a mentally ill partner. Supposedly, he broke up with the girl he dated after me for the same reason he left me: her having depression. Like bro, good fucking luck finding a girl who doesn't struggle with something. Good luck finding someone who's going to be on Cloud 9 all the time. And also, he never communicated what he was feeling. Do you have a crap load of friends to hang out with? God no. The only person I hang out with is my boyfriend. Honeymoon, where? Alaska, if it's a good time of year to see the Northern Lights. If not, maybe the Bahamas to visit their black and pink beaches. The heat and humidity put me off, though... Lipstick over the actual natural lip line, your thoughts? It's capable of being attractive if done well and it's not too extreme, unless you're only looking from a distance. It can look especially great on drag queens imo. How would your wedding bouquet look like? Depends on the time of year, really. I kind of want to say black regardless, but I think that would blend too much with my dress (which I want to be black). Maybe if it was in the fall, which I want, it'd be orange and black to fit the Halloween vibe I'd love to have as a theme, perhaps a rich red, or light pink and white... idk. That's far in the future. What kind of game would you like to play that doesn’t exist yet? Bro, give me a meerkat simulator. There's the Lead the Meerkats Wii game that I ADORE, but I think the concept could be greatly expanded upon and made more realistic. What is one thing you would never ever eat? Balut came to mind very quickly. That looks like the grossest shit imaginable. I'll never forget seeing it for the first time on GMM and wondering how neither of them literally died where they sat lmao. There are a LOT of other foods, too. I'm incredibly picky. Which character in your favorite movie do you hate the most? Every single character from The Lion King is so lovable. Which non-existing (sci-fi and such) weapon and/or vehicle would you like to own/use? Bro, I want Thori'dal from WoW. A bombin' bow with unlimited, magical arrows? That shit's dope. Could save your life, and plus I love bows. How do you think the world will end? Humanity's end will almost certainly be rooted in human action. The end of the planet itself will probably be a black hole, gamma ray, or something else supremely powerful. If you could take a pill that would cure something in you that isn’t an illness - what would you be cured of? The fact I'm fat. :^) Take it all away pls. Has anyone besides your family seen you naked? If so, who? My ex. Do you remember anyone’s number by heart? Literally nobody's. Not even my own. :x Name something you will never try in your lifetime. Hunting. What’s the best place you have ever eaten at? The Cheesecake Factory, omlllll. Are you at home right now? Yep. What’s worse: Crocs or Uggs? Crocs are so fucking ugly to me. Do you knock before you open doors? Always. Does Fred from YouTube annoy you? Now THIS is a throwback. I liked him as a kid. He'd probably annoy the shit out of me now. Anything exciting taking place today? No. Who have you texted today? My mother and Becky, the receptionist at my psychiatrist's office. I rescheduled my appointment to tomorrow with my mom being sick (she wants to talk to him, and she's in no shape to today) and me not feeling well, either. Do you like grapefruits? No. Have you ever had the Reese’s PB candy bars? Omfg, the ones that are a bar of smaller squares is my FAVORITE candy in the world. Where’s your mother? In bed. She was directed to mostly quarantine in her room away from me. Are there any pets you’re wishing for? Always. :( Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? I HATE raisins, so guess. Is your belly button pierced? No. Do you watch PewDiePie? Not anymore, no. His content changed a long time ago and doesn't interest me anymore. Do you like "Despacito?" Omg my sister showed it to me once and I hated it. Do you have any subscribers on YouTube? uhhh *checks* I have 71. More than I expected, ha ha. What’s the first word that comes to your mind if I say: "Boop!" Booping a snake on the nose. :'3 Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? Nah. I enjoy watching YouTubers play it, and I like the franchise, it's just not my kind of game to actually play. Can you twerk? Oh god, never tried, don't want to. Do you like dabbing? It looks stupid to me. It looks like you're smelling your armpit, dude. Can money buy you happiness? You are 110% full of shit if you think it can't to some degree. I would be so, so much happier if I wasn't poor. Have you heard of Blizzard Entertainment? Well, considering they're the company that owns World of Warcraft, obviously.

[thinkofduty]

; patrol

No Imperial patrols cross their path until Ala Ghiri.

The lie is so well-rehearsed by both of them by the second day that both Orella and Ingvald could answer questions in their sleep.

We've come from the Fringes. We went there to hunt. Others were with us. Three men. They'd helped us hunt the bears and then left for Bittermill. We came back north of the Velodyna. There was plenty more they couldn't carry. The Resistance had the gates of the Castellum blocked to travellers. We married eight years ago. She came with me to help, as is her wont. Have you ever met an Ala Mhigan woman? All bite and - well, plenty of bark, too...

The first sight of Garlean colours nearly has both of them forget every lie they've thought up like dust on the wind.

Behind the patrol, Ala Ghiri yet stands as though Theodoric's standard still flies. Rhalgr's purple hangs from the gates instead of the Empire's white, and the Garleans are few enough that they pose no threat to the village. The crystal embedded deeply in the rock looks almost as a protective arm curling around the village, hiding them from the very worst Gyr Abania has to offer.

"Look sharp," Ingvald says to her, but there's no need. The moment they espied black-and-red in the distance she'd felt her breath come short, had pulled herself tall and tight, and reached for Ingvald's hand. He'd let it happen without protest; this was their deception, after all. Her lips are thin and her face grim. The force of her grip belies how deeply uncomfortable the Garleans make her feel.

Privately, he thinks the very bones in his hand are shifting.

There is no point in them stopping. If they have seen the patrol, the patrol will have seen them, and there is naught more dangerous than a small travelling party refusing to engage with the Imperials - and suspicious, besides, with Resistance purple hanging so close by. Not to mention they are both weary from a hard pace wordlessly set through harsh sun and cold nights. No stranger to the march are either of them, but that does not make the ordeal easier. A single night in an inn cannot kill them.

"Keep breathing," he murmurs as they walk up to the soldiers. Their welcoming party has fanned out to prevent their passing, all seven of them, all men, all tall enough to rival Orella, who stands a neat six fulms and carries herself as though she's closer to seven. The only indication he gets that she's heard him at all is, incredibly, a squeeze of his fingers.

"That's far enough," one of the patrol calls out to them, and they stop on the same step. They're close enough that they can see the Garleans' eyes beneath their helms. Beside him, Orella shakes her head so hair falls in front of her face. She's stopped slicking her hair back since they crossed the Wall, and the idea of brash, headstrong Orella Steelhand hiding from anyone is laughable to him.

Ingvald, with his hair cropped short, doesn't have the luxury of stepping back. He realises that she has the heavier load strapped to her back, and his heart stops-

They ought to have stopped to trade packs. Ala Mhigan women are strong, but they're pretending to be less than themselves, and a trader's wife would not be that strong-

A Roegadyn, sallow-skinned and well-muscled - the opposite of Ser Zartosht in almost every way, he thinks, and has to force that comment to the back of his mind or laugh damningly - steps forward. "State your business," he says in Garlean, sounding bored. HIs gaze drifts over Orella and fixes upon Ingvald, the man, the de facto leader of their merry band of two.

None of the soldiers are looking at her, as though she is naught to be considered, and that is what pushes him to anger. He has to remember to keep breathing.

"Here for trade, ser," Ingvald says. Every word tastes like twenty years of oppression. "We came from East End, we're here for-"

"Shut up," the soldier says. Ingvald does so. He does not want to pick a fight with a man with an axhead wider than its owner's broad chest while he stands unarmed. "From the Fringes? The seven hells you need to go so far for?"

Almost before he even finishes his question, he's shaking his head. "Not you," he says, and Orella closes her mouth. Her hand is shaking in Ingvald's. He can't tell whether fear or rage courses through her veins. "I'm not interested in listening to some savage whore's drivel. You, farmer," he says to Ingvald, and crosses his arms. "What's in East End? Where are you from?"

"... From the capital, ser," he says carefully, and takes another deep breath to calm the blood pounding in his ears. "We're traders. East End holds more for us. No point in selling salt when you come from the Lochs. We wanted furs. And claws can be sold for medicine. Right? ... Honey?"

The pet name drips off his tongue insincerely, and he winces, knowing it sounds false. Movement at his side means Orella has turned her attention from her feet to him. Knowing her, she's displeased with the choice of epithet.

Hang her displeasure. There are more important things at hand.

Thankfully, the Garleans don't seem to notice their silent squabble. Two of the men are talking amongst themselves; another's attention is directed at the sky; the others look bored. The big Roegadyn steps forward, arms still folded, an impassable presence that seems to almost blot out the sun with his bulk. Ingvald is not a short man, and this soldier looks down at him. Power and height make one terrifying combination.

"Get your wares out."

They're able to set their packs down and unwind the twine holding the furs tightly wound, displaying everything they'd taken from the bear. What flesh remains on the fur is starting to smell bad, Ingvald notices with a frown. A task for later tonight, scraping the remains away and doing their best to dry them before setting off in the morning.

The woollen tunics they'd taken from the Sandsea pale in comparison to the meat and the other trinkets arrayed before the soldiers. For the first time, Ingvald is relieved that Orella had the foresight to go after the bear, despite the foolhardy way she'd gone about it. And that's not the only thing she'd thought of: a linkpearl in either of their ears would have been noticed immediately, as would have mail under their peasant's clothes.

And they think her beneath notice.

"This is it?" The Roegadyn toes the edge of one square of fur roughly; a claw is nudged out of place and he kneels to pick it up, to turn it over in his big hand. The claw is almost dwarfed by the size of his hand. "Hardly worth coming back at all for this pitiful lot. Three furs? And badly cut, to boot. Didn't bother to clean 'em, dry 'em... and they stink. Are you really traders?"

Ingvald's mouth has gone dry, his heart racing. They'd practised their lies, but he hadn't thought they'd be scrutinised like this so quickly.

Beside him, Orella's voice is quiet, but firm. "Well, we're obviously not hunters."

"Damn straight," Ingvald says, and perhaps it comes out a little too forceful, for Orella's hand finds his again, and they cling to each other without shame. Ingvald no longer cares for the bones shifting in his hand, for he knows he returns the favour.

"Well, the meat's not rotten yet," the soldier says, and Ingvald prays he doesn't look too closely, for they have been preserved with simple ice spells he'd learned in Ul'dah, "And the claws aren't tarnished. Could get a pretty price for these," he adds, and pockets the claw he'd picked up. Ingvald crushes Orella's hand as she opens her mouth to protest. "A tax," the soldier says, and has the audacity to leer at her. "You don't need that much money, even if you are bas. And if you're that desperate, then I've the cure for what ails you. And we'll pay," he adds, as though that makes his proposition more attractive.

And they are yet unarmed: Ingvald with his spells cannot hope to take on all seven of the Imperials, and Orella will fare little better than he. He yanks on her arm hard enough he feels something pop out of place, and she yelps, but follows the movement sharply, and the tug means that the arrow whistling through the air misses her and lands in the dirt a fulm before the feet of the Roegadyn.

One full second passes. Another. Everyone stares at the arrow, distracted from Garlean threats by its sudden appearance. Its fletching is unfamiliar to the natives, the vanes the colour of a hornbill's back and yet bound to the shaft in a way neither have seen before. Clearly, it means something to the soldiers.

"Resistance," the Roegadyn calls, and rips his axe free of his back. The patrol comes alive, pulling their weapons free, and Orella pulls Ingvald off the road with all her might.

From where they cower together, hands enjoined as though they have never existed as separate entities, they have a fantastic vantage of the slaughter that ensues. The Garleans are overwhelmed from the start, outfitted with fear and confusion as they are. They're no match for the handful of fighters all wearing nondescript green, faces covered with what look like imitation griffin masks. And there's all shapes and sizes, unlike the uniformly masculine silhouette of the patrol. A skinny Miqo'te with a longbow as tall as she stands, plucking the bowstring effortlessly, every arrow flying fast and hard. A Lalafell, back straight, wand extended, blowing flame as though the Amalja'a's primal ought make offering to him. The telltale scaled tail of an Au Ra, menacing in his size, made more menacing by the long-barrelled gun in his hands. At the head of the group, the stocky shoulders of an Ala Mhigan used to the lay of the land.

Orella yet trembles like a leaf in the wind, but her eyes are bright, and she does not once look away from the fight. "What do we do if they turn on us next?" she whispers to him, and Ingvald can only shake his head. He has no answer for her anxieties, can only try to quiet his. They can only hope the Resistance is as well-meaning as the stories have made them out to be. And there have been plenty of stories on the road.

Whatever the Resistance are, they're well-trained enough that within minutes the Imperials are lying dead or dying on the dusty Abanian road. The Miqo'te's bow quickly finds them as a new target, though its owner is not so hasty that she plays the song of death for them. Orella and Ingvald stand, slowly, free hands raised to display their innocence.

But only the archer keeps her eyes on them. They are but an older, unarmed couple; nothing compared to seven armed Garlean men desperate to keep their lives. The Highlander turns his back to them, saying something too lowly for the wind to carry to them, and the small group breaks apart to clean up after themselves. The Lalafell and the Auri man start riffling through pockets and find the stolen bear claw - longer than the Lala's entire arm - and after another moment's careful consideration, the archer lowers her bow. She stands aside to let her commander approach.

"Well met, sister," he says in the rough eastern dialect native to the Peaks. It's familiar in a way Orella can't quite place, and not just because she'd grown up speaking it before her days in the Kingsguard. "And you, brother. They didn't bother you overlong, I hope."

Orella is too busy trying to place the voice, face screwed up in thought, so Ingvald answers for the both of them. "Just questioning us, though I fear you stepped in at the right time."

The archer turns her griffin's mask toward Orella; they can see the  grim line of her mouth. "Imperials like to make the hinnies queb it. Y'ain't hurt, lass?"

She shakes her head, which seems to satisfy the archer, and she offers a salute to the Highlander before joining her comrades' casual thievery. "We're going to the city to trade," Ingvald says, and gestures at the furs still unravelled on the dirt. "Thought we'd detour to Ala Ghiri to rest."

"Not a bad plan," their saviour nods. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you what lurks in the dark out here."

"We both grew up here," Orella offers suddenly, and finds herself under careful scrutiny. Still, she doesn't shrink back from the focus the Highlander trains on her. "Besides, nothing's more dangerous than the Garleans."

"I'll be damned," the man under the mask says. "You're that one from Ul'dah, aren't you, sister? I always wondered what happened to you."

There's a pregnant pause where Orella considers carefully, and frowns as she speaks. "... Horrick," she says, and the Ala Mhigan beams.

"Ul'dah?" Ingvald asks, lost.

"Your lady got put behind bars," Horrick says, and wrestles with his mask. It's more than just a mask; white leather covers the ears and neck and covers the helm beneath. Impressive work. He's tanned from the high Abanian sun, chin darker than the rest, a beard doing its best to try and sprout. "Near enough a full twelve months ago, now. Good piece of work, from what I heard."

At Ingvald's side, Orella makes a swift, jerking movement that he cannot quite see in his peripheral, but has been on the receving end of enough times to know what she's doing. She gestures furiously, drawing her hand before her neck. In all the years he's seen it, Ingvald has never quite known whether she means it to mean stop talking or I'll kill you. "I don't think I heard that," he says mildly, and the moment he turns his heard to look at Orella she quits the motion.

As expected, she's looking anywhere but him. Guilty as charged.

"Were you ever going to tell me this?" he asks, exasperated, and Horrick bursts into laughter.

"True firebrand, ain't she, brother? Well," and he offers Ingvald a lazy wink that goes unnoticed. "All's fair in love and war, and you look like you've seen your fair share of both. More one than th'other, I'd wager, if miss murder here's anything to go by."

"Orella..."

"Major," the Lalafell says, walking up and offering the bear claw to Orella, who has to bend to take it. With his hands free, he salutes, looking every bit as though he doesn't feel dwarfed by the Highlanders around him. "We shouldn't hang about. Gotta make it look like the patrol's gone missing. You know the drill. Has to be natural."

"Natural," The Au Ra agrees from a few paces away, and Horrick nods.

"Aye, that it does. You two fancy lending us a hand? We'll escort you to Ala Ghiri once we're done here. We've a safe house you're more than welcome to."

Orella's still ignoring Ingvald's pointed stare. "Really? We wouldn't want to impose, and we do have to reach the city..."

"A night in a bed won't do you any harm, sister. Rest awhile. Ala Mhigo will still stand on the morrow."

That it will, though with the Riskbreakers likely hot on their tail, Orella can't be sure how long that statement will ring true. Still, the idea of a bed as opposed to some sheltered rock is an attractive prospect, even if it is only for a night. They have time enough to reach the city, and time enough to keep the peace.

"Orella," Ingvald says, desperate now, "What did he mean by miss murder?"

And Horrick laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

[eris0330]

Whalien 52 - Part 10

☽M. List☾ ; 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 [END]

☽Pairing☾ ; Jungkook | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst | Fluff

☽Word Count☾ ; 3.4k

“Are you okay?”

Hani leaned over the counter, meting your gaunt face while counting the cash. A chocolate scent that matched the strands falling in slow motion upon the woodened counter, while tilting her head to align with yours. You have been closed in yourself the past week, trying not to reach out for your phone, whenever Jungkook called. You were mad at him. No, you ARE mad at him. He’s been trying to reach you since the encounter of his actions towards Jooheyon, but you didn’t let him. In fact, it hurt seeing his name dance cross the LED screen but shortly after, Nayeon would be texting about your whereabouts. Unfortunately, and luckily, they haven’t been able to meet despite the departure with Jungkook.

“Yeah I’m fine, why?”

“Come on Y/N… I’m your friend, even a stranger would have noticed your darkened expression” There was a slight doubt in her sentence, while you couldn’t quite respond to it. Her awkward poster waiting for an answer like a tiger on the hunt, you tried to compel whatever excuse laid in mind. Until, the entrance of the shop was opened by the acknowledged bell of a welcome.

“We’re closed, sorry.” Stating the obvious, you didn’t spare a look for whoever decided to bump in. As well, cursing over not locking the door as you should have done a decade before.

“Y/N, I think it’s for you” Hani’s voice was excited, yet contemplating on who was standing in the doorway. An aura of confidence and a nice smell of manhood swelled under your nose, making your hands shake. Your eyes slowly falling upon the tall figure, your excitement fell on the bottom of the pit.

“…Hey Jooheyon” A familiar smile awakened, walking further with his heavy black boots and skinny jeans. Asking Hani to take care of the money to be locked up in the safe, you walked away from the counter, demolishing the view of a ‘cashier and customer’ status.

“What are you doing here so late?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment for him, as you knew, Jooheyon has spent days trying to reach you whenever there wasn’t anyone besides him in class. Were you expecting someone else?

“You haven’t been coming to class lately, I got worried.” There wasn’t any change in his aura of confidence, as he shot another one of his deathly smiles. You couldn’t help, but mirror him.

“I’m sorry for troubling you, but I have decided to work here until everything gets settled.”

“I see that. Why don’t we talk about it over a late-night meal? You have probably been working all day, and you looked like someone who could eat something” Shooting a glance towards the back door, you knew Hani was eavesdropping as usual. Her hand gesturing you to take the invite, because without a doubt, all she wanted, was for you to get out of this shop and meet cute guys.

“Sure, why not.”

“You have been awfully quiet” Seated outside the food truck on an old green coloured bench, watching the couples walk by, trying to snug their hands together inside one’s pocket. You had barely touched the ramen that Jooheyon bought, excusing that it was still hot. But the steam rising from the plastic bowl, were slowly dying out into the night sky.

“I’m just a bit tired” You weren’t lying, but trying to keep your heavy eyelids open was already a struggle, even on top of trying to seem like a person without a heartache.

“Is it about Jungkook? When was the last time you two had contact?”

“Eight days, probably Nine by now” Twirling the soggy noodle with your metal chopsticks, you heard a significant sigh on the side.

“Let me guess. The silent treatment?” Jooheyon left out the obvious, trying to poke at your conscious about how horrible of an act it is.

“Maybe, I can’t get myself to reply any of his texts… It’s already bad enough that we got so involved in each other’s lives, and now I had a bitch flip because of him. It’s not right, for me… and him.” Finally deciding that the grumbling monster in your stomach needed to silence itself, you slurped the now very gross soggy noodles and the aftermath of it dissolving like nothing on your tongue.

“He still texts you?”

“Even calls”

“Do you know what that means Y/N?” At least the food was filling your stomach, but something about Jooheyon’s sudden smirk and aura of solving a mystery, bugged you slightly.

“No, clearly I don’t. Enlighten me?” You answered in a haste, slurping another gulp of noodles.

“He likes you”

“If you didn’t know by now Jooheyon, that Jungkook is a famous singer in a boy group which has millions of people drooling to just touch him once. There is no way, that out of everyone in the world, he chooses me. I’m not a main character in a fanfiction, thank you very much.” You snickered into the air with gritted teeth making him giggle of your remark of denial, trying to ease the moments.

“Come on, as if it isn’t obvious. Why aren’t you thrilled? I thought you liked him?” Jooheyon continued with the bickering of love, making an imaginary black pulse hover on your temple.

“I like him as A FRIEND” Even writing the word ‘friend’ into the air, didn’t make him stop comparing your feelings towards another man.

“Oh really? So, the pink tinted cheeks of yours, is just a weird habit every time I mention his name?” Shocked and noticing his low eyebrow wiggle in suggestion, you couldn’t help but smack his thigh of punishment. How dared he, read you like a children’s book.

“Okay, so what? Isn’t it normal to have a crush on someone that inspires them?” Jooheyon chewed on the remaining of his sandwich, before hitting right on the spot into the trashcan. The same sort of growl of confidence brawled in his throat, while shooting you a warm smile.

“You see, that’s true. Everyone adores their bias in a group, but here’s something sweetie. You aren’t just a fan to him, you’re his friend. A friend, that left him hanging with multiple voice messages and unanswered texts. Here’s reality, and it’s going to hit you, whether you like it or not. For months, you have been having this close intimate relationship-“

“Intimate???” Flushed over his words as if you have had phone sex with a guy, you tried to hide away the thought of that, it could have happened.

“Close friendship. Not actual sex related stuff, you pervert.” He continued, making you feel embarrassed and rather, exposed. Jooheyon only knew your background through what you have told him, but maybe he was smart enough to figure out everything.

“I get the idea, that you two switched phones by accident. But, here’s the deal. Jungkook is rich, he could get a new phone and basically get this number blocked or track it down, right? Well, looks like he didn’t and wants to continue talking to you.” Jooheyeon continued, as you slurped the last cold beef soup before tossing it into the same trash can, trying to ease the victory of downing at least a meal for the day.

“Why would he?” Seated back against the bench, with all ears open to what Jooheyon said.

“I’m coming to that. As any other person, they wouldn’t even bother trying to get it back. Who in their right mind, would trust a stranger with their phone, even a fan? No one. One thing is for sure, Jungkook has a huge interest for YOU. Why would he bother leaving messages and voice mails, knowing thousands of other chicks is ready for him? Because you, were the one that stole his heart.”

“Hold up. Stop the melodrama. I get it, okay?” You held a hand high to stop his preaching about stealing a guy’s heart, without even intending to. It all seemed unrealistic, but idealistic at the same time, as if the world was stuck between a fantasy and devouring dreams.

“No, you don’t Y/N. Do you see what you stopped, when the connection between you and Jungkook ended? You don’t come to college, the place you have always wanted to go. You can’t even get yourself to say how horrible it is, to let this guy wait for you, because of a single act. Jungkook isn’t like your mother, he isn’t just going to vanish because of your feelings. He WILL continue to wait for you, because love have no limited time when it’s first discovered.” His powerful words shot through your heart like an arrow, feeling every bit of sting and reality hitting as it promised. The tears formed in the corner of your eyes, drying away with a harsh movement. There was no doubt in Jooheyon’s eyes, that whatever words he sprouts in clarification, hurt your soul for each second.

“How do you know about my mother…?” The scene of your mother’s last words, with a single touch of goodbye and betrayal puts on repeat. Your lower lip quivering of shock, at the news of someone else, knowing your dark secret.

“I have lived here since I was a baby. It was just a couple of blocks away from where you lived with your family, and my parents told me the news about a young teen living by herself. Sending supplies to the house and even my father helped with your bills. You probably don’t remember me, since I went abroad for a few years after. But they kept updating me about your wellbeing. You stopped receiving help, because you told them you were okay now and moved out.” Remembering the shy boy behind a man’s back, there was no doubt, it was Jooheyon. Did they really do all of this, for you?

“You stopped getting help, because you feel like you don’t deserve it. But I think, someone is out there, trying his best to do what he can. Even, if it means to step over boundaries.” Putting his slender hand on yours, feeling every fibre of warmth cover the reptile skin of ice. His dark hollow eyes of comfort dragged you into despair of realisation, of what an absolute selfish idiot you were.

“I’m so sorry Jooheyon…” Tears of sorrow and warmth streamed down your face, offering your deepest feelings hidden behind the walls, that only one could break.

“I’m not the one, you should say sorry to.” Gesturing to the beautiful view of stars, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion before a gentle clap covered your shoulder.

“Listen to the voice mails, and give him a chance to talk. He won’t give up, trust me on that.” Taking a deep breath and a light thumb brushing away the tears. A warming smile as usual, before patting your lightly on the head like a child.

“I’ll be right over here, when you’re done. You’re not alone” Whispering of comfort leaving you behind on a bench like a lonely cat, you scanned his silhouette disappear between the dark shadows. Heart pounding like a horse on drugs, waiting for the right moment to scan the unanswered message of desperation. Jooheyon was right, that not only did Jungkook do something wrong, but he surely never gave up whatever drove your spirit. Not just one, but more than five messages was left in your voice mail, from the only man that made your heart skip a beat by just reading his name.

“You have six unchecked voice mails…. The first voice mail came on the 17th of July at 23:45….”

“Come o-“ Turning it off with the speed of light, you couldn’t get yourself to hear his deep voice as you remembered. Watching his videos on Twitter and Youtube, there was something about hearing his voice, only talking to you. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling while the foggy air released as a lit cigarette. This could take hours, but you didn’t have that much time. Gathering your confidence, you tried yet again, listening to every single message holding your own demons at bay.

“Come on Y/N… are you really giving me the silent treatment….?” How disappointing of the first message, which made you chuckle of how you were so afraid of just listening to messages like this. You didn’t understand why it was so important for Jooheyon to make you listen, when none so far, had given an impact. Deciding to delete it and continue to reach the rest of the messages, that was queuing up.

“Are you really that mad at me…? I wasn’t trying to make you upset. Call me back when you can…” There was a shaken voice and background noise of people talking. Even the echoing of his vocals made him seem confused and scared. It pulled your heart, to the point of not wanting to hear the rest of them.

“I can’t sleep. It’s been kind of boring, and manager keeps talking about this collaboration. He told me I seemed cold towards Nayeon… did you text her? I just need an update on what to do… There are still a few concerts to be held and I think my muscles are going to burst haha… you’re probably sleeping… Goodnight Y/N.” Was there more to your heartache, knowing you left him off to a night of no sleep. He probably would sleep, or so you convinced yourself while deleting this voice mail. Noticing your fingers shake in the process, not knowing what was happening inside your head.

“Still ignoring me…? It’s okay, I understand… but you should know I’m not the kind to give up that easily… When will I hear your voice again…?” Was that a tear? It was probably already there, listening to his shaken question, ravishing the world that you lived in, that you thought was reality.

“Lonely lonely lonely whale, like this, try calling once again~~ what do you think? Maybe my voice got a bit rusty after all these concerts… It’s been amazing like always, but it’s not the same when I’m alone in the hotel room. When will you call me back? Tonight? Tomorrow? Never…? I miss you Y/N… I’m going insane without you...” You smiled trying to ease the pain of sympathy that your feelings were the same as his, you missed him. Listening to every piece of Jungkook’s own confidence ravelling down, noticing how maybe his words were nothing but actual confessions of his feelings poured out in sorrow.

“Jungkook LOG 24th of July 2017. Do you like this idea?” This was something new, as if you were going through old videos of Bangtan bombs and even though you couldn’t see him, it was like he was right in front of you. His voice continued to speak in a calm tone and his witty character blooming through the speaker, letting you lean back against the bench rest.

“Normally I talk into a camera, as a note for myself… but I feel the need to let you hear it, properly. Maybe it’s too late, you might never call me back and we will depart soon…. It makes me want to cry, but I’m not that touchy haha. I just want to thank you, for keeping me in company, even though I was needy. I didn’t mean to make you upset, about Jooheyon. I just didn’t like the idea… that you would maybe like him more than me… I don’t like one-sided love, it’s horrible.”

“Don’t talk nonsense you fool…” You muttered biting on your lower lip as if it was bruising slightly of the pain, that couldn’t compare to your heart’s aching for Jungkook.

“Besides my members, they are like brothers. A family. But you? Something else. I think I should curse or thank Jimin for this… but I really like you Y/N. Not as a friend… more than that. It’s probably the worst way to get to know, but I can’t keep it a secret forever, when I know you’re only a call away… sort of…” His lips quiver of the sentence that released his feelings towards you, hit like a brick wall when crying. You couldn’t answer, knowing that he couldn’t hear, but the silence in the speaker was a faint sniff. Was he crying? You could hear his breathing settling to control and all you wanted, was to hug him and tell him you were right there.

“Silly, right? I thought it was in books that things like these happened, but I guess I’m wrong. I never told you about what happened that night? To put it simple, I will tell you when I see you…. GAAH I feel so stupid right now… I just want to see you… right now… Call me… please? I begging you..” Listening to the last records of his vocals confession, you thrilled to feel your heart become lighter. Your cheeks flushed and out of control, knowing that the guy your heart pounded for, was feeling the same. Was it insane? Probably, but at this point, you couldn’t care. It was like a dream, that your body flew in the clouds of baby blue and sunshine rising from the east. Drying away your tears, to tap along the LED screen to find his specific name. The sound of beeps holding on to every chord, that held your hopes high, to only wait in agony.

“Y/N…?” Your smiled brightened of the recognisable voice.

“Hey Jungkook…”

“You called me back… thank god…” A sigh of relief was muffling through the speaker, finding your own sticky hands trying to push out the right words.

“Look I’m-“ Jungkook was fast enough to catch of the creeping silence, not wanting your voice to disappear into the emptiness of his loneliness.

“No, Jungkook. I heard your voice mail, all of them actually.” You chuckled, but it was a mechanism to hold back your nervous giddy sentence. Trying to keep calm wasn’t easy, when there was need of gathering your courage.

“What did you think…?” You could tell by the noise of his own lips trembling and nibbling on the swollen bottom lip, in attempt to calm himself. Picking at the hem of your shirt, trying to sound right about situation, you needed to take in a deep breath, without screaming the answer.

“I missed you, a lot… To be honest… I was shocked, that an idol could feel the same about me, as I did with them…”

“So you like me too?!” Giggling of his fast remarks, clarified the butterflies flying around in the bottom of your stomach, only to realise that whatever Jungkook said or did, it would make your heart skip a beat and even to the point, it might stop it from beating.

“I do…”

“Jesus Christ, do you know how anxious I have been?? Realising I left my last voice mail…. I really believed I scared you away being a creep..” Jungkook could finally feel the burden on his shoulders release against the cold sheet in the hotel room, watching the sun set from his window.

“It was cute. I was more surprised that you started crying” You snickered, letting the deep air of ecstasy fill your lungs.

“I did not!”

“Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night” You missed hearing his exhausting laughter and reassurance that he’s close to you, or as close as he can be.

“Sooo, you want to see me again?” Jungkook questioned with a sight of hope, still remembering your angry texts of goodbye. Biting on your lip in the process of trying to seem witty as always, you couldn’t help but sound a little more excited than intended.

“Of course”

“Not right now, because I got to go! We’re planning for another concert and then we’re moving to our next location… I wish I could talk more with you-…” He trailed off taking in a deep breath, before you nodded along his sweet voice.

“-Can I call you later..?”

“Always.” You answered with a smile, crinkling your eyes in the joy of feeling your heart pound harder. If just, you could hear his. Saying goodbye was hard, but it’s easier, when you know than you will be talking soon again. With loud and clear steps to find Jooheyon leaning up against the cherry blossom tree, he only shot his significant warm smile, knowing what just happened.

“Thanks, Jooheyon” You whispered, walking alongside down the street to nearing your apartment. Patting your head like usual, finding you cuter and even closer after noticing, how familiar your size difference was.

“Any time Y/N.”

[pendragonfics]

But It Must Be Lived Forwards

Guilt Is a Rope That Wears Thin: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Paring: Peter Quill/Reader

Tags: female reader, female pronouns, alien abductions, set after Guardians of The Galaxy Vol. 1 but before Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, baby Groot, mentions of fandoms, outer space, angst, fluff.

Summary: After agreeing to return, the team decides to dock on Terra, leaving the pair of you time to finally slow down enough to grieve for what was left behind on Earth.

Word Count: 2,309

Current Date: 2017-07-04

Your heart is racing even before the doors to the Milano open. It’s like you know this is it; after some convincing to the rest of the crew, and another Galaxy-saving gig later (and an asshole named Ego) you’re in the atmosphere of Earth. Peter and Rocket have landed the ship in the wilderness of upstate New York, in a place where nobody in their right mind would build anything. But still. It’s Earth, and it seems like years since you’ve been here. But the doors are opening, but instead of being greeted by the quiet whistling of wind, the swaying of trees, there are figures.

“Don’t shoot!” Peter raises his hands, the rest of the Guardians following his actions, including you.

But these figures are familiar from what you remember on TV, and taking your Quad Blaster from your belt, you lower it to the floor of the ship, and tentatively step forward. “Not to be a cliché, but we come in peace,” you tell the masked face of the Iron Man himself.

“Last time we had aliens, they didn’t speak English,” the guy with an arrow pointed at your head, Hawkeye notes. “Your accent, you’re from Ohio?”  

You nod. “Yeah, Cheviot, and he’s from Colorado.” You motion to Peter Quill. “But mostly from outer space,” you glance to Gamora, Drax, Groot and Rocket, who all looked a little odd in Earth terms.

Hawkeye nods, and lowers his arrow. “Yeah, they’re good. I grew up in Iowa.”

Captain America waves a hand, essentially shushing the archer from gushing about the glory and advantages of regional living. The blonde all-American cleared his voice, almost making you wonder if the next statement would be a declaration of independence or something, but it was a comment. Simple. “You’re not here for any sinister business?”

Iron Man’s face mask raised, revealing the face of the guy with a tower and a few billion dollars to his name. Rocket gave a laugh, and turning to shush him too, the raccoon strutted out beside you, cocky as always.

“If we were here to raise a little hell, we’d come in with a little more flair, don’t you think?” He snarked Stark.

The woman standing beside him opened her mouth, no words. It was then you realised that these people had never seen a raccoon talk, and that she was the redheaded super spy. Ms. Romanov. You give a wave to her, pushing past Rocket to diffuse the tension. “Hey! I’m a huge fan, I used to have your action figure.” You shoot Rocket a glare, and one to Gamora and Drax as if to say please shut him up before we’re under arrest for being illegal aliens! and add, “Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark, please. We only plan to be here a short while.”

“I am Groot,” Groot speaks up.

Gamora lowers her arms, and crosses them across her. “Yes, Groot, you can put your arms down. Mine are getting tired to, with all this surrender.” Captain America and Iron Man share a glance, not knowing what to make of what they’d just seen, with the green woman speaking to a tree. She motions to Drax, and the rest of the team. “We will take a short while here on your planet, we have many things we need to do in space.”

Drax nods. “We are the Guardians of The Galaxy, and if you do not allow my good friend _____ and Peter to grieve, I will resort to violence.” He stares down the Avengers, his warrior-race instincts taking over again.

“How about we let you off easy?” Iron Man gives an uneasy grin. It’s a somewhat good thing for his wellbeing, not fighting Drax on it. “Go take care of your business, have a holiday.”

Peter mouths some thanks, while you turn to Black Widow once again, “If you’ve got spare time, I’d love to learn some of your tricks!”

---

The Avengers lend you and Peter a Quinjet. Deciding it’s for the best, you leave Drax in charge of Rocket and Groot, and Gamora in charge of them all, staying behind in the Avengers base not too far from where the Milano landed. But you and Peter are flying in stealth mode with Clint manning the aircraft toward Peter’s hometown in Colorado. For the most of it, Hawkeye is silent, tremendously professional. But when Peter cracks a joke, the two of them get along like peanut butter and jelly, leaving you smiling at Star-Lord’s banter.

But before too long, you’re landing in Colorado, the ship landing quietly (a new sensation!) for a change, and following Peter out, to a small building a way out from town. The man who answers the door is elderly, with snow white, thinning hair. But his eyes, they looked just like Peter’s, and teared up at the sight of him.

“Pete?” Mr. Quill asks.

He nods, “Yeah, it’s me, Granpa.” Feeling like a sore thumb, you turn to leave the two by themselves, but Peter takes your hand, and shares a smile with you. “Granpa, this is _____. I ran away from home, and she helped me find my way back.”

The old man smiles, waving you all inside. His house is small, the décor still styled as if the 80’s had never gone and passed, with the La-Z-Boy thatched up in places where the material had worn away, some places worn down, and no patches in place yet. A radio was on the fireplace, playing an old Elvis song, and in the kitchen in the corner, a kettle was whistling.

“You disappeared,” Peter’s grandfather shakes his head, pouring coffee in four mugs. It’s been years since you’ve had a coffee, your mouth watering at the delicacy. Beside you, Clint is silent. “Nobody knew where you went. Had me worried sick for years…”

Peter nods. “Sorry, Granpa,” he looks like he hasn’t ever really thought about the people he left behind when Yondu abducted him. “I –,”

You move to help Mr. Quill with the coffee, pouring milk into Peter’s cup. “Your grandson can’t stay long, I’m sorry,” you tell him softly, making sure he can read your lips. “The stories that Meredith told about Peter’s father, they were true,” you tell him. “We fly among the stars and save people who were left without saviours,” you confess, adding sugar to your cup.

Mr. Quill nods. “I suppose Earth was never going to be enough for you, Pete. You were always fightin’ for good, before you even knew it. Your Mom would be proud of you.” As you all go to take the coffees outside to the front porch to drink on the chairs, Peter smiles. It’s a lovely smile, a true smile. “Love you, Pete.”

---

It’s hard to tear the Quill’s apart, especially from his mother’s urn on the mantelpiece (“Keep Ma safe, Granpa, I’ll come back, I promise,”) but in the afternoon before returning to the state of New York, there’s one more stop. You all land just out of Cincinnati, in the national park. From what intel Clint had on your parents, they were living not too far from your childhood home in Ohio, and all three of you were walking there. Unlike earlier in the day when you exited the Quinjet easily, your feet feel like lead, your stomach heavy, yet feeling empty, hollow.

“Hey,” Peter senses your uneasiness, interlocking his fingers with your own. “Nervous?”

You nod, and expelling a breath you’d been holding in, you whisper, “Did I tell you why he drowned?” Peter shakes his head. “I only got into medical school by scholarships, and all the money was spent on dad. We couldn’t afford to learn to swim,” you swallow, feeling small like a child once again. “There’s a creek down the way, and he’d been hanging with the wrong kind of people. The police I.D.’d the body as him, sure, but he’d been off his face with drugs…I was supposed to be looking out for him that night. He snuck out.”

“We’re here,” Clint beams, looking up from his phone’s map. “Want me to knock, or you?”

“I’ll knock,” Peter offers, releasing your hand to approach the door up the little path. It was nothing like you grew up in, but still, it was a nice place. Nicer than what you put up with. The moment his fingers land on the doorbell, it opens to an unfamiliar face. A woman. “Mrs. _____?”

She laughs. “Ha! I wish.” She flips her hair, her fake nails catching in the synthetic material, and yells, “Martin! Some people here for you!”

There’s a shout back, a thunder of footsteps. “What?”

You wince. You remember your father had a lot of people come through the door, and not all of them were friendly faces. The woman who looked like she owned the place (but probably didn’t) was most likely one of these people. Shouting was a huge part of your childhood, and probably why you strove to be better than your brother, who was never yelled at.

The screen door opens, revealing your father. He doesn’t seem to have aged a single day, despite the grey hairs by his ears, and the tattoo on his collar, peeking out from the singlet. At first, his eyes see Peter, and Clint, and frowns, but then he sees you. “_____?”

You nod.

You notice the crow’s feet on the corner of his eyes, the bags under them, the poor pallor to his skin. You might feel it inside your pitiful heart to offer to stay behind on Earth to make sure he keeps out of trouble. But you’re a Guardian of The Galaxy, and you tend to things greater than your old life, and the thought passes as soon as it comes.

“They said you’d died,” He frowns. “One day at medical school, next…gone.”

You nod once again. “I was abducted.” Deciding to leave the ‘by aliens’ part out, you add, “I didn’t want to come back to see you, but I had to. I keep thinking of Chip.”

His face softens, taking years off his appearance. “I haven’t been the greatest parent, I know. Ever since losing your Mom, I thought I’d never be straight again. Losing Chip almost killed me, but…thinking I lost you?” You’re not sure if there’s a hitch in his voice, or maybe you heard wrong, but he pauses. “Everyone I cared about was gone.”

You feel a tear escape despite your best wishes. “But it was my fault,” you whisper. “If I’d –,”

Your father shakes his head. “I’m a shit father, but one thing I know is you can’t blame yourself. I tried, Lord, I tried. Things happen, sweetie, and sometimes, they’re bad. But not everything is bad. You’re back,” he whispers. “Thank you, merciful Lord.”

You shake your head. “I can’t stay.”

Peter nods. “Your daughter works with me, on a team designed for operations to save civilian lives. She’s a pleasure to work with, sir.” He tells your father.

He raises an eyebrow at this, but doesn’t say a word on that matter. Instead, he turns to Clint, and asks, “You’re the arrows guy from the Avengers, aren’t you too important to be hanging around these ones?” He smiles, throwing you a wink. Your chest flutters, your brain screaming, oh my god my father is proud of me! on repeat.

Clint shakes his head. “No sir. I may be Hawkeye, but to these ones, I’m chauffeur.” He tips his imaginary hat, and adds to the pair of you, “I’ll be back at the bus when you’re ready.”

You smile. “Thank you, Clint.”

---

One day later, you’re off in the air, back on the way to the stratosphere and beyond to the interplanetary life you all led ahead. Drax makes no comment on the lack of outlaws on Earth (something he’s miffed about, since he didn’t get to meet John Stamos or Billy the Kid), and Groot has a potted pine tree beside him in his seat, a souvenir Rocket says he’ll “treasure forever or whatever”, and had made friends with a new Avenger named Wanda, who found him a delight. Gamora had sparred with your idol, and boasted that the redhead was in good form to defend her planet.

Peter and you were silent. He’s piloting, focused. You’re moseying around the record collection they’d shared, trying to find the right music for the team to fight to (it’s surprisingly good for morale). But as you’re flicking through the tapes of The Beatles and Van Halen, he places a hand on your knee.

“You okay?” He asks.

You nod. “Better than okay,” you admit. “Kind of…fantastic.”

Peter grins. “I wasn’t sure. Your thinking face kind of gives off other vibes.”

You laugh. “There’s a word for that on Earth, I think. I can’t remember it.” You pluck out a tape labelled The Clash in the handwriting of Tony Stark. “Play this. Chip always liked them.” He takes the tape, sliding it into the player. “How about you, you okay?”

Peter nods, just as London Calling begins to play. “She’s not just another grave in the ground. As long that I remember her, she’s not gone. She’ll always be in me.” He shakes his head, laughing at his wording. “Sounds pathetic.”

You shake your head. “No, it doesn’t. You’re human, Peter. It’s a part you.” You turn over your shoulder, seeing the other Guardians. Drax has a crossword book he picked up from somewhere, and seems to get the gist of what to do with it. Groot is smiling happily with his potted plant. Rocket is making sure that Groot doesn’t hurt himself, mothering the tiny flora colossus, as always. Gamora is tapping her foot to the beat of the tape. “It’s a part of all of us.”

<< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

[samanthaclarkson]

Best Served Cold (a short story)

Had the men been sober, they would have surely felt the chill of the stone courtyard. But they weren’t, and they didn’t. Before them lay an abundance of food: meat, rum, fruit, bread. Anything they desired, they simply called for a servant to bring to them. Their drunken laughter resounded off the surrounding pillars, frequently accompanied with a ridiculous toast of some sort. Had they been sober, perhaps they could have saved their lives. But they weren’t, and they couldn’t. 

Hidden in the shadows, a cloaked figure stood, invisible except for the exposed, glowingly pale skin. The build of the uninvited guest was thin, and if one wished to know the gender, they would have to get a clear view of the figure’s face to understand it was male. His head, covered in a heavy hood, was lifted just enough for the green and yellow eyes to easily watch the oblivious men, still drinking heavily. In the figure’s slender hand hung a twisted and tarnished dagger. Perhaps once it had been silver and straight, but now it represented its master, a sad remnant of what it used to be. 

The time to strike would not be until the men were far past tipsy. When they would be so long gone they would scarcely be aware of their surroundings. He did not have to wait much longer. Minutes later, the first man sat upright in his seat, wobbling slightly, eyes not truly seeing, before his face fell forward, landing in the pile of gnawed bones and bread crusts on the platter before him. Had his companions been even a little more aware of their surroundings, they would have laughed heartily at his unconscious state. Instead, they quickly followed suit, succumbing to the influence of the rum. 

The cloaked figure tensed in anticipation, but held himself back, waiting for his ears to confirm what his eyes already told him. Soon enough, the soft snores were audible in the otherwise silent courtyard. 

Quickly, quietly, like a shadow, the hooded figure darted towards the slumping men. The knife, though tarnished, still glinted wickedly in the light of the setting sun as it was lifted above each man’s skull. His pale hand made a swift downwards movement, the razor-sharp blade sliding into the back of the first man’s head. A spurt of blood sprung from the fresh wound, a gurgling sound emitting from the fresh corpse. The first eliminated, the cloaked figure moved to the next two, killing them just as quickly as the first. 

Before he could leave, the quiet yet clear sound of female footfalls echoed in the courtyard. There was a shrill scream of terror followed immediately by a thunderous crash as the maid dropped whatever she carried. The pale one lifted his head, giving the maid full view of his white face, causing hers to to go almost as void of color as his. Her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled back, landing heavily on the cold, tiled floor. Her gaze fell to cooling bodies of what had once been her employers. When she looked back up, eyes bulging and heart racing, he’d vanished. Gone like smoke in the night.

The assassin was not even slightly troubled by the idea that he could be chased down. The maid had seen him, and though she could not know his face, she must have exactly who he was: Bane, the most skilled and feared assassin of the great Wizard, Alastor. Having this job for almost 150 years makes one quite well known, despite attempts to keep identities hushed.

Bane traveled for seven days before finally reaching his hut, hidden away deep in the largest known forest. Filled with the dangers of the wild, animals, quicksand, and even others like Bane, visitors were unheard of here. 

Bane entered his small, round hut through a rough-hewn door. The only dim light came from two small, opposing windows. Pushed to one side was an unmade cot. Near the door stood a large wardrobe, which Bane went to. A single spare cloak and an extra pair of leather boots was the only attire that resided there. Shelves lined the sides, filled with every kind of weapon known to man. 

Bane hung up his cloak and placed his knife in its usual place before crossing the room. On the opposite wall was a curious sight. An array of names and the occasional sketch of a man or woman littered the wall, connected by dirty threads. There were roughly fifty or so altogether. At the top were four portraits from which all names and sketches flowed. The entire top half, including the portraits, and a select few of the lower half, had a single line crossing through each. One entire section fanning from one portrait had a line. Bane picked up a fresh quill from the desk underneath the four family trees. Dipping it into the inkwell that sat next to it, he made a neat line through a name in the lower half. 

“One more of those scumbags gone,” Bane growled to himself, dropping the quill and stepping away. 

A raven flew in the window, a meager, dirty scroll clenched in its beak. It gave Bane a distasteful look as he stepped closer, and childishly wouldn’t let go of the scroll until Bane threatened to break its leg. The wax seal on the outside bore the Wizard’s mark.

Bane quickly scanned the message in the scroll.

Bane, as I’m sure you know, your third fifty-year contract is due to end in two years. I know you have yet to finish the mission that led you to me almost 150 years ago, so I assume you’ll want to renew before you die in two years time. In the meantime, there is a man I need killed. 

The rest of the message gave details about where Bane could find this man. It did not say why. Bane didn’t need to know. Bane did as he was told, and got his fifty years of life in return. What Bane did with his years outside of killing for Alastor was of no concern to the Wizard. 

Bane scribbled a quick message on a piece of scrap parchment, and tossed it carelessly to the raven. The bird squawked angrily, snapped up the message, and vigorously flapped out the same window it had come through.

As soon as it was gone, a knock came on the door.

“Come in,” the assassin called, glancing eagerly to the wall of names. A tall, lanky man stepped through the doorway, a scroll of his own clenched in his fist. One of Bane’s own employees. 

“Bane, I have news,” the man rumbled in a voice surprisingly deep for a man of his build. Bane did not speak, his expression one of mild interest. “I have located another descendant of the murderers that killed your family.” 

“I killed the last one you gave me a week ago. You’re finding them quicker than you used to. Good.” The man grinned in relief at the small amount of praise Bane gave him. “So where is he?”

“A small town fifty miles East from the border of the woods. It’s a man and his family. One of the descendants of the ringleaders, actually. They’re extremely prosperous and influential. It won’t be hard finding them. But it might be a problem finding the perfect time to kill them all.”

“I’ll decide that,” Bane snapped, cutting him off. “Just give me the scroll and get out.” Bane pulled a gold coin from underneath his cot and tossed it to the spy. The scroll was set on the desk, and the man was gone. 


 Two weeks later, Bane was on his way to Wallsworth, the town spelled out in the scroll. Strapped to his back was a quiver of arrows and bow, and on his hip hung his trusty knife.

His first step was to find the house of the man. It was a rich town, prosperous in the trade of their fine, golden wheat. All the buildings were finely built. According to the scroll his spy had given him, the home he was looking for was in the North of the town. 

It was an unusual hunt. This man was not only unusually wealthy and well-loved by the  townspeople, but he also had a healthy family of a wife, two sons, and a daughter, all still living with their parents.

Bane could not deny that he was slightly disturbed at the age range. Normally he hunted those who were at least twenty, yet the scroll told him the oldest child, the daughter, was seventeen. 

That’s the same age I was when my own family…

Bane immediately pushed aside that thought. Emotions had never gotten in the way of his job before, he refused to let it start now. If he eliminated this family, the entire bloodline would be halted. He’d be down to only two. This was a job that had to be done.

Food wasn’t really necessary for Bane. When one is guaranteed life in return for kills, food becomes a luxury that isn’t required. Food always brought back painful memories of his mother’s cooking, which Bane preferred to push down. Bane immediately went to the nearby wood and found a perfect tree far off the beaten path where he could curl up under for the few days he planned to stay. He’d need the time for scoping out the perfect time to do his work. 

“Hello?”

Bane jerked up from his lying position under his makeshift shelter. His hand immediately went to the knife on his hip, but he did not move from his spot or call out.

“Um, I see you under there,” the voice called out again, this time distinctly female. “What are you doing out here? There are inns just a short walk down the road. Can you not afford one? I can offer you some money if you can’t.”

Soft footfalls signaled the girl was coming closer to where Bane hid. Seeing as she was persistent, Bane crawled from his small shelter, trying to hold on to his dignity. As soon as he caught sight of her, his heart skipped a beat. It was the daughter, the daughter who he had every intention of slaughtering along with her father and brothers. 

His first instinct was to kill her now and get it over with, and then her family before they realized she was missing and got the whole town looking for her. But he held himself back, forcing himself to think about it first. 
 “What’re you doing out here, anyway?” The girl’s glowing red hair fell in beautiful waves over one shoulder. Her figure was clothed in a clean, white dress, and on her arm hung a basket half filled with wild mushrooms and flowers. Her posture and innocence reminded Bane of his own sister, and it was as if someone had stabbed the assassin in the heart.  

Bane did not answer, staring her down with the hopes that his intimidating appearance would frighten her off. But it did not seem to be working. She simply stared at him with curious blue eyes. 

“Do you need food? Or perhaps a place to stay?” His lack of response did not seem to throw her off. On the contrary, the more he refused to answer her, the more determined she was to get one out of him. 

“I don’t need your help,” Bane finally growled, when the girl made no move to leave.

“I’m Clyta,” said the girl, extending her hand in a friendly manner. “What’s your name?”

Bane just barely jumped when Clyta offered her hand, and made no move to accept it. 

“No name? That’s okay. Are you staying long?”

“No longer than I must.”

“Well, I’ll be back tomorrow then.  I guess I’ll find you or I won’t.” Clyta smiled, turned, and left, her footfalls almost as quiet as the assassin’s. Bane could not find it in him to even bark at her to never return.

Sure enough, the next day, she was back. Bane had spent the afternoon scoping out the town, learning patterns and places. He had seen her there, handing out bread to a collection of the poor that lined the streets. This time, she bore more than just flowers and mushrooms. In fact, she was at his makeshift shelter before he was, a small fire cooking a small meal of mushrooms and meat, a fresh loaf of bread sitting nearby.

“I noticed you had no food,” she said cheerily, giving him a smile he knew he didn’t deserve. “So I brought some from my house. I hope you don’t mind.”

Bane remained sullen and did not answer, instead shooting her a glare and sliding into his shelter. He caught himself watching her several times, her movements vaguely reminding him of how his mother used to cook.  

Clyta finished her work, placed all the food on the wooden platter she had brought, packed up her things, and left with a simple “Enjoy! I’ll be back tomorrow!”

Bane at first had no desire to even look at the food, but the enticing aroma of fresh meat finally made his mouth water. It was his first meal in decades.

The next day she was there again when he got back. She did not cook this time, but seemed noticeably pleased that she had found the empty platter lying on the ground. This time she had bread and cold meat, enough for the two of them. She offered Bane some, which he sullenly left where she had set it, then took her own and began eating and talking. 

She told him about her brothers, how she knew they would grow up to be great hunters. How her father had poured a fourth of his wealth into making this town beautiful, how her mother had taught her to care for those less fortunate than herself. 

“My ancestors were not good people, I’m sorry to say,” Clyta murmured with a sigh. “My father has done his best to make up for it. He’s quite ashamed, I think.” She looked at Bane with a only slightly forced smile. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

Bane did not answer for a moment, weighing his words.  Something about this girl made his walls begin to crack, and before he could stop it, the words came tumbling out. “My family… They’re all dead. They were captured and sold into slavery while I was off selling my father’s corn and my mother’s cloth at the market. I got back to find my home burned, and my parents and sister gone. When I finally caught up to them, my sister had been beaten to death, my father shot for attacking a guard, and my mother sold across the sea.”

Clyta froze, even halting her chewing. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “That’s truly awful. How long ago?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bane snarled, his hand closing into a fist. “They’re gone now, and I have to go on without them.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, each pondering their own thoughts. 

“I’d better go,” Clyta finally said, getting to her feet and slowly packing up her things. “Again, I’m really sorry about your family. I can’t even imagine…” She turned to go, but Bane stopped her.

“My name,” Bane hesitated. Clyta patiently waited. “My name is Bane.” 

A small, almost sad smile crept onto Clyta’s face. “Nice to meet you, Bane.” And she left. 

That night, Bane made a decision. Clyta was starting to get to him. He had barely known the girl two days and already he could feel his edge starting to dull. He had to attack, tonight. 

A shadow in the dark, Bane crept into town. Not a single soul noticed him, even when he climbed the wall to get into the courtyard of Clyta’s family. 

First to go would have to be the father. Bane found him in a sitting room, quietly reading a book with a smoking cigar held loosely between his lips. 

Bane lifted the glass window that separated the two of them. Years of practice made this task easy and silent. Soon, he was posed behind the man, knife raised in hand. He stood there for several seconds too long.  For some reason he could not make himself thrust his knife. The man still did not notice him, at least not until Clyta stepped through the doorway. 

“Father, excuse me for interrupting, but—“ she immediately broke off when she saw Bane standing behind her father. She let out a terrible scream and rushed forwards. Bane stumbled back, his knife dropping slightly. Later he would tell himself it was because he was caught off guard, though he knew that wasn’t true. The man finally noticed the killer in his home. He jumped from his chair, grabbing a heavy book from one of the nearby tables as if that could defend him. 

“Who are you?” he barked, grabbing his daughter’s wrist and trying to tug her behind him. Bane didn’t answer, his sickly yellow and green eyes filled with some sort of unusual expression as he stared at Clyta. 

“Bane,” Clyta cried, wrenching her wrist from her father’s hold and stepping closer to the assassin. “Why are you doing this?” Her tone suddenly dropped, as if speaking to a frightened and dangerous animal. “I thought we were… friends?”

Bane had no intention of telling Clyta his motives when he had gone into this job, but now, staring at her tear-filled, glassy eyes, he found himself explaining it to her.

With bitter words, Bane told her. “Your ancestors killed my family. We are not friends.”

“That’s impossible,” Clyta tried to reason with him. “You’re hardly much older than I am.”

Bane snorted. “I made a deal with the Wizard Alastor. He gives me years and I kill anyone he asks me to. When I’m not doing his bidding, I spend my years hunting the people who murdered my family. I am much, much older than seventeen.”

Clyta’s mouth hung slightly ajar as she stared at him in disbelief. “I understand that you’re angry about your family, and you have a right to be. But we didn’t do it.”

“Clyta!” Her father yelled. “Get back from him! He’s dangerous.”

“Perhaps,” Clyta murmured. “Bane,” she said, speaking louder. “If you want to kill my family, you have to start with me first.” Both of them ignored her father as he kept insisting she get back. 

Bane did not move. Flashes of memories darted through his mind. His father, protecting his sister and teaching Bane to do the same.  His mother, beautiful and gentle. His sister, playful and kind.  Bane himself, before he turned into this… this thing. He used to be happy, eager, even forgiving.

Clyta’s voice turned gentle. “Please, I know you’re better than this.”

Bane snapped his eyes up to look at her, the hardness returning. “You don’t know anything about me.” In a flash of black cloth, he had leapt out the window and disappeared. 

No one knows what happened to Bane. No one knows if he went back to Alastor to renew his deal, or if he continued his hunt for other decedents of the men who killed his family. There was still a deadly assassin in the land, killing and causing unrest, but no one could know for sure if it was Bane.  We do know one thing, though. Clyta and her family were never in danger from then on.

[bt2018bt2018]

Retail Insights February 17, 2018 http://ift.tt/2EyaG22

Click on an image below to zoom in & open photo gallery >>

Overhead TV in video game shop tells u what games are popular at the moment

Shopping Baskets for your convenience

Discounts Signage at every exit or entrance and turning points in the departmental store

Race Track in Sportswear Retail Store

Use to Balloons to demonstrate lightweight of Jewelry

How tall are u in LEGO Bricks

Unlimited Talk & Text with COLES Prepaid

Giant Display Pen at Melbourne Pen Depot

Sports Shoes in Disguise

Signs with quotes around clothing store

How to show discounted price on price tags

Mannequin's nipple showing through clothing

Smiley bookends

Smiley face next to SALES sign attract customers in

Arrow on overhead sign direct customers to store

Spotlights for perfume

Scooter Driver earns income by driving advertising board

Customer Comments on Whiteboard outside store

Y u should quit smoking

Y not buy a pet tag for ur pet

Turn background wall of florist into greenery

Giant Lego Brick on top of Shelves Attract ur Attention

How do u retract Bag Strap so that it stops distracting u

How do u retract Bag Strap so that it stops distracting u?

I bought a bag from Kathmandu at Emporium Mall, Melbourne CBD, Victoria, Australia. I really like that I could Velcro the bag straps to keep those unsightly straps from hanging out and distracting me and accumulating dirt and bacteria. I wish that you could implement this feature in all your bags that allow the wearer to velcro all the bag straps. 

Please take a free copy

U will not buy what u cannot see clearly in the darkness -Kate Spade

Bookshop's Overhead Sign direct u to the right section to locate your Book

Reminder Tag about how much savings u will get when u earn X amount of Points

If only I can Press a button or Plug in my Earphones to hear the sound system of the Display TV.

Television Playing Cartoon integrated into Toy Shelves attract Kids to pester their parents into buying toys

Departmental Store's Mirror with brand name on it

Get Exact In Store Shelf Locations with KINO Navi app

OFFER signs installed next to entrance or exit of departmental store

Flower Petals adorn Jewelry

Organise Magazine Types with Tabbed Labels

Baby Care on the Go!

BE HAPPY Balloons in store ignite positive moods in customers = higher chance of sales and increase Salary Increments from Profits

Services at a single glance at Officeworks

Free Balloons at Officeworks

Giant GIFT Cards Overhead

Bag Frame Products

Ribbon tie SALE tag next to product on Store's Front Window

Photo Image of Model wearing outfit on Clothing Rack in Store

Ribbon on Front Window of Chocolate Shop

Balloons in Retail Store

Imagine Explicitly Advertise BPA Free - Food Safe Containers max DAISO's Management bonus

Overhead TV wants u to buy TEMPUR mattresses

Touchscreen tablet introduce u to features of Tempur products

Kathmandu's Ambient Lighting Levels Design

Bottle Opener LED Carabiner

Clothing Alteration Services seen at a single glance from store front

Retail Store Green Star Store Rating

Fluxing Paper Strings on Blowing Fan attracts customer attention

Overhead signs remind customers that there are more stores below

Store apologise for not having pets in

-O- design as Monkey Head

BrandName integrate with what it sells to quickly communicate selling point to customers

AS FEATURED tag on clothing stand in David Jones mall

Bright Coloured Handkerchief in Suit Pocket grab customer attention

NEW ARRIVAL Tag on clothing hanger

Whatever, i'm late anyways WATCH

Artsy Visual Merchandising of Optometrist

Merchandise is protected from Theft by ink tags

Pair Matching Ties with Color of Work Shirt to eliminate mental fatigue and poor fashion choice of male customers

Door Lock auto locks when you enter, Lock Unlock when you press handle down without need to turn knob to unlock door

MOVIE or QUIRKY fan with eyeball on one of its blade with rotating eye as the fan blades turn. Complete with Eye Lashes

Simplistic Clothing Hanger Stand

CHANGE the way you look at things and the the things you look at CHANGE

What are the reasons to love shopping at David Jones mall

Stockings in David Jones mall

NEW tag max profit on Kitchen Gadget

Explicitly remind children that learning is fun with these posters at Officeworks

Flower Petal Make Up Mirror

Style Straight to your Inbox by David Jones mall

Heart Shaped Visual Merchandising Display by PETER ALEXANDER

Shirt Ironing Service Message and image on Dirt Trapping Floor Mat

Deal of the Week

Y can't I elevate tables easily to the right height

Sign encourage you to talk to any of the friendly staff about office solutions

Candle Ink Stamp as design on bag

Baskets at easy to reach levels at Officeworks

Why doesn't EFTPOS Machine display amounts to customers at multiple vantage point

3 in 1 Gym, Duffel, Backpack with Velcro that hide unsightly straps, locking feature, no zip compartments accessible by the public

Pile of Bags grab my attention

How do you play with ur phone while having a haircut

Rotating LEGO Toy Display

BIOCHEF Kitchen Gadget

Clothing Shelf by SuperDry with Wheels

Y not communicate all new products instore to customer at a single vantage point

You do not need to install EXIT Signs at 90 degree right angles

Golden Images on Red Packets Signify Wealth in the coming year

Gold Stamp on Property Agency Brochure remind prospects of Wealth Generating Opportunities

Artsy Post-It with Panda

Typo in BIO CHEF Brochure

Hi!

Would you please correct your brochure on the typo "Nutrients" (See photo attached) as it seems unprofessional which =loss of Sales;Profits & significantly reduced ur Salary increments & Bonus

sales@biochef.com.au

13 in 1 Kitchen Gadget - BIOCHEF

RAM UPGRADEABLE TAG sells laptop

AS SEEN ON FACEBOOK Tag in DAISO

Communicate the quality of images shot on phone in order to max profits on sale of phones

Coloured Zipper Tag needed to eliminate frustration from looking for zipper that are of the same colour as the luggage or bag

Model's Tattoo on Ad Poster attract a niche market = max profits

TRY ME sign on toy engage customers hands = max sales n profits

Align brand name right next to sales or discounts sign eliminating customers attention gap

Turn hair salon mirrors into selling point with decorative frame around border

Overhead mirror turn un-utilised ceiling space into selling points

How do you push a card inserted into a casing pocket out easily

Y not place shoe product in front of mini Tv that show different ground terrains

Pair shopping baskets with brochures in departmental store

Gift ribbon tying bath towels

Selling points integrated into ironing board

Gift ribbon integrated with photo frame

Rotating product retain customer attention longer

Turn elevator doors into advertising space for departmental store

Coloured zipper wanted for backpack and luggage bags

Problem

 Solution

Kathmandu Australia

249 Park Street, South Melbourne

PO Box 984, South Melbourne

Victoria, Australia 3205

Attention: Chief Executive Officer

RE: Coloured zipper wanted for backpack and luggage bags

Dear Sir/Madam

Please see photos attached: I hope this letter finds you well. I bought a backpack/Duffel Bag 3 in one item from your Emporium Mall store in Melbourne CBD. I find it difficult to locate the zipper as the zipper and its zipper string is black in colour which blends into the (background) colour of the backpack (black). I created a DIY solution for this by separately purchasing a different coloured luggage zipper string from MYER Emporium. I wish that you would consider selling coloured luggage zipper strings in your stores (this cannot be patented). Or otherwise pair coloured zippers with all of your products as an alternative or as is. This will create an additional revenue stream and enhance customer retention not to mention eliminating stress, confusion from trying to locate the zipper through the thousands of times a user engages in opening the bag. The time saved would translate into productivity for work or play which means money for Elite bosses who are your mates.

You could simply spare 3 mins to delegate this task to your assistant so she/he can delegate others to carry out the necessary review and implementation. By championing this change as a new project, this would definitely look great on your curriculum vitae and justify for significant salary increments and huge bonus payouts?

Please conduct a review and implement this throughout the country and worldwide. The above could not be patented (Simply make a 5 minutes call to the local patent office) and would bring significant benefits to you. Please ask your lawyer to email me a legal letter so I can sign with witness signatures to relinquish all monetary benefits and credit I will gain from this. I am not submitting an unsolicited idea but simply highlighting a problem. However you choose to solve this problem is up to you and all monetary benefits and credit goes to you.

A copy of this letter had been snail mailed and emailed to your C.E.O & Minister as my internet/computer maybe hacked or communication blockage from disgruntled employees due to fear, authoritative hierarchy, herd mentality, and a myriad of other interesting reasons from people who are resistant to change due to invested benefits in the current system even if the change is for the greater good of the company/community. Men’s Ego and Decision Makers being unable to take credit may prevent the realisation of the action from this feedback. I do apologise for this politically incorrect and badly structured letter to incite you into action. Please understand that I spend time and effort to gather this observation, prepare this letter and print the attach colour photo at my own expense. I do so with pure intention.

Thank you for your time in reading this letter.

P.S. “We buy things we don't need with money we don't have to impress people we don't like” : Fight Club. “Man surprised me most about humanity. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”

Regards,

Jianfa (Ben) Tsai

Design Thinker

Gift ribbons tying bath towels

Post it notes dispenser

Mannequin wearing clothing products lined up to be viewed at a single glance

Mannequin wearing headphone and sportwear and jog

Classy Simple Transparent Plastic Document Holder

Bed that double as storage space

Sneaker integrate into T Shirt Design

Y should u pair mirror next to jewelry products

Vortex Floor of Video Game Shop in Sydney

AUSPost communicate how to write your PO Box

Arrow next to Anti-Theft Signage eliminate customer's attention gap and draws them into store to max profits

Advertisement installed next to top of stairs attract customers to explore products at the bottom of the stairs

Posters communicate all genre of comics to potential customers at a single glance outside shop

Sign on Staircase steps attract customers to explore and climb up the stairs = Max Sales- Profit- ur Salary

It is easy to look down to notice the sign rather than look up at BLOCK PLACE retail shops

Outdoor Sign with Arrow to direct customers to shop

Hi, 

Thank you for reading this post. I hope you have enjoyed it. 

Unfortunately, my son Ethan is born small, unwell and I need your help, please :(

If my insights have benefited you & your circle of influence, I am begging for your help by: 

clicking on the advertising banner below to earn a few cents for my baby's medical bills. 

I will appreciate if you could share this site with everyone in your sphere of influence.

It costs you nothing; you don't need to buy anything after clicking the advertisement; it only takes a few seconds of your time (No scam promise)

Thank you for your kind help, and God Bless you and your family.

Retail February 17, 2018 at 05:09PM

[wionews]

Spider-Man Homecoming movie review: This is the web-slinger we were waiting for all these years

One of the most famous and loved superhero of all time, Spider-Man made a much awaited and much needed Marvel Cinematic Universe debut in last year’s Captain America: Civil War. Many were of opinion that Spider-Man was one of the best parts of the film. Fans were even more elated when it was announced that the very next year that is in 2017, Spider-Man will be starring in his own film, helmed  by MCU. The film was titled Spider-Man: Homecoming and it was revealed that will also feature MCU’s poster boy since its inception in 2008, Robert Downey Jr aka Iron Man aka Tony Stark. Directed by Jon Watts, film stars Tom Holland, Jacob Batalon, Zendaya and Michael Keaton among others.

What’s It About

The film starts right after the aftermaths of Captain America: Civil War as far as Peter Parker’s (Tom Holland) story is concerned but Adrian Toomes (Michael Keaton) aka Vulture’s story goes back to the first Avengers film. Film follows the life of Peter Parker and how his life changes after his stint along with the Avengers. While Tony Stark assures him he’ll be called when the time is right and advises him to not do what Tony would do and definitely not do what Tony wouldn’t do. Basically, Tony wants him to be the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man while Peter wants to prove his worth and is just looking for a chance. And that one chance arrives in The Vulture! Once he comes face to face with The Vulture, all hell breaks loose, so much so that even Tony leaves him on his own. What happens next forms the rest of the film. 

What’s Good

Even though I am one of those who grew up on Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man trilogy and loathed Andrew Garfield’s The Amazing Spider-Man duology for two reasons, films not being anything like original trilogy and Andrew not being Tobey, but Tom Holland here is beyond comparison. He is goofy, childish, bumbling and yet endearing. He creates the sort of persona of Spider-Man in this film that you just can’t compare him with the previous two. You can still be a fan of Tobey’s take on the web slinger and love Tom’s turn at it. Moreover, Tom is a very able actor, the whole scene of his with Michael Keaton’s Adrian Toomes in a car, speaks volume about his talent and the one in pre-climax when he decides to be an ‘adult’.

Michael Keaton is one of the major reasons the film turns out to be what it is. He balances it out, if Peter is goofy, Adrian is no nonsense and menacing. When he turns into The Vulture, he is a scene stealer, his voice, demeanor, mannerism, aura works wonders for the film. Like I mentioned above that one scene in a car was the highlight of the film for me. While he does all those dreadful activities, somewhere in your heart, you still feel for him.

Jacob Batalon as Ned, Peter’s best friend plays a perfect sidekick and often raises laughter quotient in the film. Marisa Tomei as Aunt May is as hot as she is talented and makers have played to that in the film. No wonder Tony Stark wanted to know if she’s wearing something ‘skimpy’. Other actors be it Jon Favreau as Happy Hogan, Zendaya as Michelle and Laura Harrier as Liz give able support.

And what can I say about the truly invincible Iron Man aka Robert Downey Jr. The more I say about his screen presence and acting ability, will be an insult to one of the world’s biggest stars. He is charismatic, enigmatic, majestic and charming. 

As far as film is concerned, like every other Marvel movie, film plays high on humour and there is not a single dull moment in the film. Spider-Man here is a trainee and is far away from learning the ropes or webs in this case, of being a superhero. This is the most grounded version of Spider-Man, which one can easily relate to for we finally get to see the difficulty Peter faces while he balances his school and trying to be a superhero. In fact if not for a superhero film, this film works well enough and can easily be passed off as a high school comedy.

There are many digs or reference, of course, indirect at (surprisingly) DCEU superheroes like Flash, Batman, Superman and Green Arrow. (Or maybe I read too much between the lines.) Anyway it was a win!

Apart from that there are several other easter eggs and references that’ll be fun for the fans.

The music is fine with Vulture’s theme score standing out. The special effects are first rate.

And finally, out of all the MCU, DCEU and other franchise blockbusters of Hollywood, this film has the best post-credit scene ever. You have to wait for it… 

What’s Not

While the earlier face-offs between Spider-Man and Vulture were worth your money, it is the climax that I  found a little underwhelming. Make no mistake the end fight scene’s build up is fantastic, it ends way before it should’ve, as if makers were in a hurry. Tony Revolori as Flash Thompson, “The High School Bully” in Peter’s life was, highly underused.

I know it’s a Spider-Man film but still I was expecting a fair screen time of Robert Downey Jr (blame it on the promos) but he had very limited scenes…may be that’s the fanboy in me speaking.

And why oh why, you wouldn’t show that money shot moment from the trailer where Iron Man and Spider-Man are shown slinging/flying around the city. That scene was missing from the film.

Apart from the above things, film, most importantly lacked depth, which was the major reason I loved Wonder Woman and Logan. Both of those films have soul, here it’s all mind blasting entertainment. 

What To Do

The question is, Can Marvel ever go wrong? Well the answer is NO, I don’t think so. They know the tips and tricks of how to play to the gallery and successfully churn out an entertaining blockbuster. What’s commendable here is they have done it with a superhero who is already a hit with the fans and have been played twice before in last 15 years. Watch the film for its non-stop entertainment and humour, for Tom Holland and Michael Keaton, for MCU finally getting a good villain after Loki and…well it’s MCU, you are gonna watch it, anyway. This is the Spider-Man we were waiting for all these years.

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