#plus they just act alike to the characters they’re crossed over with

[shortcakelils]

Lily and Cup as Stolitz makes so much sense and idk why 😭

teehee

[greenhappyseed]

BnHA Ch.344 - Review, parallels & comparisons

I liked this chapter for what it was! I enjoyed that the first part of the plan — trick AFO into feeling safe and revealing himself — is pulled from what worked in the heroes’ Kamino playbook. Tsukauchi, Nezu, and All Might know exactly what works on AFO.

I really like the continued evolution of the All Might & Tsukauchi friendship. Tsukauchi grabbing All Might’s shoulder is adorable. Plus, I’m glad to see them persisting as the de facto National Police Agency leads. I know some folks are screaming death flag at this, but I really don’t think it is (more on that, Shinso, Monoma, and “stars” after the cut).

Unlike Kamino, the heroes have an idea of the quirks AFO is using, and can prepare their own strategic counters (not just “let All Might smash it”). I love how All Might is throwing his support behind Shinso and Aizawa here, with 1A reciprocating as classmates A D friends. As much as All Might & Izuku vs Aizawa & Shinso was framed as a vicarious battle of the teacher’s chosen ones in the Joint Training arc, it’s great to see the mentors and successors alike trusting each other. Shinso’s gentle “Heya!” also calls back to how Midoriya first greeted him in the hallway with Aizawa.

Speaking of Joint Training…. MONOMA!!! I really like that All Might is calling this one and asking for Monoma’s help. We know Aizawa previously asked Monoma to help with Eri’s training, but I don’t think there were any major All Might & Monoma interactions. Still, All Might observed Monoma at the Joint Training and saw how he got under Izuku’s skin and presented a legitimate strategic challenge for Izuku. Now All Might has Izuku and Monoma working together to outwit AFO by playing up to AFO’s ego. (Also, All Might saying he’s “pulling the strings” is interesting in the context of Monoma the copycat using someone else’s quirk, Shinso the brainwasher taking over someone’s body, and Deku the wooden puppet.)

Thinking on how the chapter title was said to be “Main Character” in the leaks, but is translated as “Stars” in the official … and I honestly like “Stars” better. Yes, it references Aoyama getting his twinkle back. And it aligns with the theme of the heroes “bringing back the light” (like how All Might’s famed symbol acts as a guiding light for heroes, villains, and civilians alike). Plus, literally, to AFO/Shigaraki using Search, all the heroes appear as stars, largely indistinguishable at a glance.

But more than that, if we equate “star” to “lead” or “main character,” take a close look at the number of powerful duos in this chapter and how they’re working together, criss-crossing in all kinds of new ways. All Might and Aizawa. Shinso and Monoma. Izuku and Aoyama. Toya and Shigaraki. There is no main character here, because everyone is the main character in their own story and everyone is important in some way. If the last arc was about Dark Deku going solo, this one is about an ensemble, with each person playing a unique and necessary part.

I think “Stars” works better for the villains too. AFO is, of course, the heavyweight here, with his whole “eternal demon lord” thing. And, for funsies, remember when Overhaul talked about him as a legend?

Yet Shigaraki remains the leader of the LOV, and Toya holds his own power of destruction. (Shigaraki calls him Dabi here, which…I mean…does Shigaraki still not know?? AFO calls him Toya, so it’s not AFO!Shig speaking.) All this says nothing of Toga, Spinner, Skeptic, and their followers. They are NOT bit players.

And yet, AFO continues to think of everyone who isn’t him as cockroaches. Ants. Bugs. Disposable. Instead of seeing people as stars that can shine a guiding light, AFO sees people as small, dirty insects; all his for the squishing.

Finally, let’s address that death flag talk. First, All Might is with Tsukauchi and the police at Central Hospital or one of the makeshift police bases immediately nearby. He’s NOT on the battlefield or inside one of the Troy pods. (That doesn’t mean he won’t at some point — there was still that damn suitcase from the Nagant arc and the anniversary art showing a Mecha Might.) I think AFO may have plans for Tsukauchi, based on AFO’s “descendant” mention last chapter, but we’ll have to wait and see how that develops. As for the “we’re still alive” part? Well, I’ve said it before, but I think our final fight is shaping up to be an endurance slog, with the winners being the ones left standing with the most allies. As Bakugo told Kirishima back in the Overhaul arc, just staying standing through anything makes you crazy strong, like All Might in Kamino. Or, as Second told Yoichi and Izuku, victory means life and defeat means death.

Second, Aizawa needs help. He says “my” Erasure is all but useless, and that he is sidelined for the battle. But I’d bet money that Erasure itself is still a vital quirk. We know from the Doctor that AFO wanted it, and as Monoma recognizes, it was a critical factor in the war. Plus, there’s Aizawa the man (not Eraserhead the hero). Aizawa is beloved by his class, he trained up Shinso (whose power is critical to this endgame), he talked Aoyama into baiting AFO (also a critical piece of the plan), and let’s not forget that Shigaraki thinks he’s cool too. Both the man AND the quirk need a little help finding the right place in this battle and beyond. And wouldn’t it be fitting if that ends up being something All Might can teach Aizawa?

[penumbral-phantasm]

What I Am - Kingdom Hearts Fic

Finally cracked down on some KH fic. This one is post kh3 with a slight au, so beware! Basically this is me trying to bring Vanitas into the Sora click once everything has settled down u_u

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Characters: Sora, Ventus, Vanitas, Roxas ft. Riku, Kairi, Namine, Terra & Aqua

Summary:  Post KH3 with a slight AU where everyone is fine at the end. Sora can't stop thinking about his interactions with Vanitas who is now alive and somewhere out there. Lots of bonding between the look-alikes, somewhat redemption for Vanitas. Probably not as angsty as you think it is.

“Ven! Roxas! Come over here!” Sora beckoned from near the paopu tree. His island had never looked so small. Kairi, Riku and him were now grown up, plus they had so many more friends than what they started with two years ago, and all of them were gathered below to bask in the same warm sun. He was starting to see how Riku could call this place tiny.

The two of them perked up from the lower part of the island, running over to see what was up. Kairi passed them as they came, most likely to go and finally make some real conversation with Namine and Xion. Sora still didn’t entirely understand the Xion situation, but looking at her gave him a warm sense of nostalgia and she made Roxas and Axel /so happy/ that he instantly knew he could trust her.

“What’s up, Sora?” Ven asked as they arrived, huffing.

“I wanted to take a selfie with you guys! How cool is it gonna look framed between you two?” He pulled out his phone, already holding it up.

Roxas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Sora could tell he really liked selfies and had been eyeing everyone’s phones closely. He was probably going to nab someone’s soon.

“Get in close!” Sora said, angling the camera just right. “Cheese!” The camera clicked off and he eagerly looked at the result.

Ven and Sora were beaming, as per usual, while Roxas had a careful smile there. “You should smile more, Rox,” he said.

“Hey, if you want better smiles just look at Ven.”

Ven chuckled. “Aqua and Terra always did say I have a great smile!”

It was still a little weird to hear the two of them and see the two of them and even more shocking how easily they had melded into friendship, but Sora wasn’t complaining. It was kind of funny and adorable. Roxas, now that he was free to be his own person, could probably take a few lessons on happiness from Ven. There was nothing to worry about anymore!

He looked down at the picture. Well, mostly nothing to worry about. Seeing Roxas and Ven so close together reminded him of his own look-alike. Vanitas was somewhere out there. He hadn’t returned to Ven’s heart but he hadn’t died at the keyblade graveyard either.

It was terrifying to see himself all skewed in anger and darkness. Sora knew how to be angry, and he often was when people were trying to hurt his friends, but Vanitas just seemed to be angry because that’s all he was. Anger, hatred, darkness. Something about it still felt wrong, but the finality of Ven’s ‘okay’ stuck in his mind. He didn’t really know the full story of Ventus, Vanitas, Terra and Aqua. He didn’t know how terrible it might have been over a decade ago. After all, Vanitas was the reason Ven had to take refuge in his heart at all.

Maybe that wasn’t a guy he should think about or worry about. Maybe he was just sensitive about this because they looked so similar. Maybe it was time to put all of that behind them and move forward.

But Riku had struggled with darkness, had been engulfed in it, and he came out balanced and strong and inspiring. What if something was salvageable in Vanitas? He glanced at Ven who was laughing at another one of Roxas’ dry jokes. Ven didn’t seem to think so. Maybe if he knew someone like Riku, he would think differently!

Oh. But there was Terra. Ven /did/ know someone like Riku and had watched his friend struggle with darkness. And Aqua. She was in terrible shape in the Realm of Darkness. Ven probably came from way more experience than Sora could imagine when it came to darkness. Really, he should give it up, forget and ignore Vanitas until he eventually became a threat again.

“Sora? Are you okay?” Ven’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re staring at that selfie really hard. Is it not good enough?”

“Did you catch yourself from a bad angle?” Roxas asked.

“No, no! It’s perfect. Sorry, I was just thinking about a lot of things. It’s been crazy, you know?”

Ven nodded. “Life’s definitely taken a dive I did not expect. But it’s over now, we’re free. Don’t get bogged down with all that thinking!”

Roxas crossed his arms. “To be fair, he just came back from nearly dying to save Kairi’s life. Maybe some thinking is in order.”

Sora restrained a sigh. Why did he feel like he had an angel and a devil on each shoulder? He shut off his phone and put it away. “I’ll try not to think /too/ much,” he said.

“Good!” Ven smiled. “And if you ever need to talk we’re right here. I did spend nearly twelve years in your heart, after all!”

Once more, Sora tried not to groan at being reminded of that. He had done a lot of stupid things as a kid when he thought no one was looking. For all he knew, Ven had always been looking.

Roxas wrinkled his nose. “Glad you left it. It was starting to get stuffy in there.”

Ven shoved him playfully, which led to the two of them racing back across the bridge and down to the beach, shouting at and laughing with each other.

Sora hung back for a moment, watching everyone be so happy and filled with light. In his heart he always knew that this had to be the outcome. He wouldn’t accept sadness and death. It wasn’t an option. But things had been scary for a while back there, especially when he lost Kairi, and this image of joy had seemed more and more like a dream.

It was real. It was really, really real.

“Sora!” Riku called with a wave of his hand. It looked like him and Terra were setting up that beachside barbecue they had been talking about. Sora had never had one without the help of his parents or on this little island, but he was glad his first would be with so many friends, old and new.

The sun set quickly around them, the night air mingling with the scent of salt and dying embers. Everyone had settled down to sit on the beach and stare up at the stars. Quiet bits of conversation passed between them all in a comforting hum, some more talkative than others.

Somewhere behind him Ven said, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen these stars.” He almost sounded uncomfortable.

“They’re so pretty,” Namine breathed.

“They really are,” Xion said. “They almost beat sunsets.”

Sora didn’t realize he had taken the stars for granted. So many of these people had been trapped, stuck, waiting, and he had just been carrying on with life like nothing was wrong. He had forgotten meeting Aqua, forgotten taking Ven’s heart in his own, acted like it was okay at first when Roxas had returned to him. He should have acted sooner.

What if there were other people who needed saving out there and he didn’t even know it? All those stars, all those worlds, and he was just sitting here. Yeah, he needed the break, he really did, but how soon would he have to set off to help another heart in need? How long would he keep people waiting?

...What if Vanitas was one of those people? He still couldn’t chase him from his mind. Sora wanted to help people all the time. Something about that goodbye hadn’t sit right with him and that familiar tug to become someone’s savior once more stayed heavy in his heart.

There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Kairi’s concerned face illuminated by starlight. “You look a little upset,” she said. “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

He could tell there was extra concern over the last journey they had made together. To be honest, he was still concerned about her too, even though she was fine and sitting right next to him.

He put on a signature smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I just need a minute.”

“You sure?”

“Positive!” He got up, dusting sand off his pants. He made sure to give Riku a comforting smile as he walked away from the group, just to ease the soft look of concern that was already dawning on his face.

He took refuge back up at the paopu tree, leaning against its sturdy trunk. He was surprised by how quickly he heard footsteps after him. They weren’t the familiar trot of Kairi or Riku, so they could be just about anybody from the group.

He could tell it was Roxas when he got close enough without looking at him, though. He took a spot right next to Sora, leaning against the tree like they were comfortable, life long friends.

“Hey Rox,” he said. “I, uh, kind of wanted to be alone for a bit.”

“Yeah, Riku said that.”

“So…”

“Well, it was Riku, so of course I had to do opposite to what he said just to piss him off. Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything to me. I’ll go back in a bit.”

Sora chuckled softly. “Alright then.”

Roxas’ presence didn’t feel like an intrusion. It was almost a comfort, but it was scary to admit that if Sora let his mind drift enough then he could easily forget Roxas was standing there at all, like his shadow.

“Did you ever hate me?” Sora asked in a quiet voice.

Roxas crossed his arms like he was blocking something out. “Hate you? You… confused me. Annoyed me. Once I knew who you were to me I was constantly jealous. Bitter. Upset. But I don’t think I ever hated you. And now? I owe you too much. Trust me, there are a lot of other people that are easier to hate than you.”

He glanced toward everyone on the beach. Sora didn’t have to follow his line of sight to know he was looking at Isa.

“Is that what’s been eating you?” Roxas asked.

“I dunno. I’ve been thinking about doubles lately.”

“Doubles?”

“Don’t tell Ven, okay? But I’ve been thinking about Vanitas. Do you know who he is?”

Roxas tilted his head back and forth. “Axel explained some things. He’s Ven’s darkness, right?”

“Yeah, and he looks just like me.”

“He does? Well, I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Basically every girl on that beach except Aqua and Olette have Kairi’s face.”

At least all of Kairi’s look-alikes were nice. Xion never looked like she wanted to rip a man in two.

“So you’re bothered you share a face?” Roxas pressed on.

“It’s more than that. I know he’s darkness, that it’s just what he is, but something feels wrong about it. Even Ven seemed kind of mad about it all. About being split perfectly. And Ven’s the light half! Vanitas just… told us that it was what it was, basically. That he was darkness. It made me think of the Nobodies and the Organization when Xemnas ran it. And of you.”

Roxas narrowed his eyes inquisitively. “How so?”

“When I met you in my dream you seemed so resolved to being stuck there. To thinking we were the same. But we’re not, and I /basically/ proved it by being your connection and bringing you back. Now, you’re happy!”

“...I see. And the Organization? What made you think of them?”

“I was thinking about how Xemnas lied to you all. You all had hearts the entire time. Ventus and Vanitas were broken apart, made to be just dark and light, by Xehanort. What if, like a heart, light can be regrown? It can come back? Xehanort would have never told them. What if Vanitas isn’t as dark as he thinks, or doesn’t have to be?”

Roxas leaned back a bit. “You’d also be implying that Ven is capable of having darkness in his own heart again.”

Sora looked to see Ven was dramatically telling a story to Riku and Terra with big sweeps of his arms. He was grinning from ear to ear. He still remembered the warmth and light that had lingered when he woke Ven’s heart. It was hard to imagine darkness could reach any part of it, just like Kairi’s.

“Look,” Roxas said. “If you don’t think darkness can reach Ven’s heart, then I don’t think light can reach Vanitas’ heart. And, if I’m being honest, it sounds like you’re creating a problem when there isn’t one. No one is looking for Vanitas. Maybe you should just enjoy the break for once. I almost regret telling you to think more.”

Sora sighed. “Yeah, you’re...you’re right. I’ll lay off. Let it go.”

He clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Sora, if you /do/ decide to do something, don’t forget you’ve got everyone here. And, uh, probably don’t do anything about Vanitas without telling Ven. Or at least Aqua.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Roxas left him with a final wave and rejoined the others. Sora could see Riku leaping to his feet, flinging questions at Roxas. It warmed his heart that his friend was so concerned for him. Of course he had everyone here. He wasn’t going to do anything alone anymore.

And maybe… well maybe he really should just let it go.

It was only a few weeks later when Sora got a call from Ven. He had been relaxing on the beach with Namine, finally taking some time to really talk to her and watch her cute drawings, when his phone went off.

Namine leaned over his shoulder curiously as Ven’s disgruntled face appeared on screen. “Hello Ventus,” she said with a smile.

“Hey Namine, Sora. Thought I’d let you guys know that Terra, Aqua and I just got out of a bit of a situation.”

“What kind of situation? Heartless?” Sora asked.

“Unversed.”

“Oh.” They had all assumed it was only a matter of time before the Unversed returned to be a menace, but everyone thought it would be at least a few months. Vanitas didn’t waste time, it seemed. ���Was it a lot?”

“No, not really. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be in the future or that they’ll only appear at the Land of Departure. Keep your eyes open, okay?”

There was a muffled ‘is that Sora?’ in the background before Terra appeared in view, squishing close to his friend. “Hey Sora!” He greeted. There was a bit of dirt on his cheek.

“Hey, Terra. You guys okay?”

“Yeah, those guys were no problem. You stay safe though! They’re no Heartless, but they’re not easy either.”

“Got it. I’ll let Riku and Kairi know.” He paused. “Are there any… long term plans to dealing with them?” Terra was right, the Unversed weren’t Heartless. They had a clear source and a clear way to stop that source.

“Right now, I’m not sure,” Ven said. “But you can leave that to us.”

“I want to help! If I can.”

He smiled. “Of course you do, Sora. But Vanitas is my --our-- problem. We know how to deal with him. Just call me back if Unversed appear on the islands, okay? I’m gonna let Lea and Roxas know.”

“Okay,” Sora said. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” He said his goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Namine was looking at him in a funny way. He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll deal with any Unversed that come this way. You’ll be safe.”

She shook her head. “I’m not worried about the Unversed.” She flipped through her sketchbook to what looked like Sora. No, the hair was darker, the outfit different. “I know loneliness. As a Nobody, I knew nothingness, too. But I wonder how lonely it is to wander the world of light as a creature of darkness.”

“Do you think Vanitas needs saving, then?”

“I don’t know. He either needs saving, or he needs to be stopped. But I really do wonder…” She sighed, flipping back to a clean page. “Whatever you choose to do, Sora, it’ll be the right thing because you follow your heart.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Namine.”

The Unversed that appeared on Destiny Islands were not the small rabbit looking creatures Sora had seen before. There was only one, for starters, and it was a big hulking mess. There were claws and arms reaching around in an innumerable amount and shifty eyes that bounced between Sora, Riku and Kairi. Parts of it were distorted too, like the monster just couldn’t get a grip long enough to be stable, which made pinning it down and hitting it all the more difficult. Leave it to Vanitas to take instability and use it as an advantage.

Riku struck it down with more ease than Sora or Kairi. He really did deserve title of Master, it seemed, and they all watched the creature fade away. Sora wondered where it was fading to, where Vanitas was that he could easily unleash the Unversed upon them when they were just relaxing.

Riku shook his head. “I thought it would be smaller.”

“I thought there would be more,” said Kairi, letting her keyblade disappear.

Sora considered searching the island for Vanitas, but he could be gone within a second. It wasn’t worth it. His phone went off with a text from someone.

“Who is it?” Riku asked.

“It’s Roxas. There was an Unversed in Twilight Town.”

Kairi frowned. An Unversed on their little island wasn’t nearly as disastrous as one in the populated Twilight Town. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, it seems it. I’m gonna head to the Land of Departure.”

“What, why?”

“I want to talk to Ven about something.”

“I’ll come with you,” Riku said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not doing anything dangerous,” Sora said. “Just wanna talk.”

Riku and Kairi exchanged a glance. He knew it was concern, but it came off with a level of distrust. He could admit that he may have made one too many rash decisions in the past to warrant their worry. Still, they let him go without further complaint.

When he arrived at the Land of Departure, Ven, Terra and Aqua were already outside talking with Roxas.

“Roxas?” He called, confused.

He waved at him. “Told you Sora would show up,” he said to Ven.

“You dealt with the Unversed?” Aqua asked.

“Yeah, with Riku and Kairi. Have you guys seen Vanitas?”

Ven shook his head. “No, but I can guess one place he might have slithered off to. He doesn’t have many options.”

“The Keyblade Graveyard?” Roxas guessed.

“Yup. You want to confront him again, don’t you Sora?”

“I just want to help.”

Ven exchange glances with Terra and Aqua. “You can come, both of you. We’ll probably need all the help we can get.”

“Thanks, Ven!”

The Keyblade Graveyard hadn’t changed at all since they last came. It was still void of life and filled with dull keyblades stuck in the ground. Roxas and Sora hung back a bit from the other three, the former leaning close to tell him something.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Roxas said.

“I’m just going to do whatever I can to help. My hopes are at normal level, promise.”

Roxas only gave a small huff as an answer.

“Look!” Terra said. In front of them a large Unversed had formed with a bunch of smaller Floods surrounding it. Others were appearing too, wearing expressions of frustration or confusion.

“That’s the most yet,” Aqua said. “Vanitas can’t be far.”

“You won’t have to do much looking,” an irritating drawl said. Vanitas himself stepped out of a portal of darkness. His helmet was gone, leaving the snarl on his face in perfect sight. “Already eager for a rematch, Ventus?”

Ven’s keyblade was out. He was already flipping it around in his hand with anticipation. “Won’t be much of a match!”

“I can deal with Vanitas,” Aqua said.

“No,” Roxas interjected. “All these Unversed are going to be way harder than one angry looking Sora. Let Ven and Sora deal with him.”

Sora gave a surprised look to Roxas, which was pointedly ignored as he drew Oathkeeper and Oblivion.

“But-”

“We can handle this,” Ven said. He exchanged a look of determination with Sora. “Come on!”

The two of them broke off from the other three to pursue Vanitas, who was already using the keyblades to his advantage to fly around. Sora wished that strange boy would appear and give him the ability to ride the keyblades again, but it was definitely asking too much. That was probably a one time deal.

Ven had always been a pretty good shot with his keyblade. He threw it like it was a frisbee, aiming right at Vanitas’ back. Too bad Vanitas himself was pretty good at dodging things on his torrent of keyblades.

Sora threw a blizzard spell his way, catching part of his shoulder. He didn’t let up, instead diving back down towards them with his keyblade raised and thousands more charging close. Ven leapt in front of Sora, ready to throw up a guard and protect him, when there was a sudden falter in Vanitas’ attack.

The keyblades crashed to the ground, taking their rider with them. Even though he was up two beats later, Sora could see there was pain etched in his face. He looked behind him. Roxas had dealt a finishing blow to the giant Unversed and it was seeping back into Vanitas.

Ven attacked Vanitas with a signature swift blow, but Vanitas pushed back easily, tossing him right into the distracted Sora.

Sora was surprised to hear the annoyed growl coming from Vanitas as the Unversed Roxas had just taken down reformed itself by those three again. The Floods were seeping back into Vanitas, too, and each one seemed to spark a note of even more frustration in his face. Frustration that he was losing? But he wasn’t, not really. He couldn’t seem to help reacting to whatever Unversed was being destroyed.

Ven got back up, giving a confused look to Sora who still seemed dazed. Vanitas went in for another blow, but Ven was quick to use his magic. The light of Salvation surrounded them, it’s warm healing aura rushing over Sora’s body like a wave.

It only hurt Vanitas who was pushed back by its force. His face was held in a tight grimace as he steadied himself against the light.

Ven narrowed his eyes. “What are you even trying to get at anymore, Vanitas!? There’s no war, no Master Xehanort to follow like a dog. We beat you once and we can do it again. It’s /over/.”

Sora finally got to his feet. Was he imagining things? What did it feel like to have the Unversed flow in and out of his body on the whim of keyblade wielders? “We can stop fighting,” he said.

It was too much to hope that those words would reach Vanitas. He hardly looked bothered or contemplative over them. Just annoyed. Mildly inconvenienced by them trying to negotiate peace in a scrap.

“And do what?” Vanitas asked. “Sit around braiding each other’s hair?”

Ven’s hand became a tight fist. “Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?”

“If I’m difficult, it comes from you.” He raised his keyblade, done with talking. His glare felt so /personal/ as more Unversed poured out into the graveyard around them. It wasn’t the cocky aggression Sora was used to.

Ven was quick to act, leaping at the nearest Unversed to smack it away with his keyblade. Sora made sure to join in too and not zone out, but every once and a while he glanced to where Vanitas was at the heart of the Unversed swarm, surprised to see the tightness in his face as his monsters were destroyed.

“He can’t just keep making these, can he?” Sora asked.

“I don’t know,” Ven grunted. “Usually he’d rather fight me himself when I’m involved. If we can get through them we can get to him.”

“And then?”

“And then we stop this. Vanitas had a chance. I don’t think he’ll take another.”

Sora didn’t think so either, but part of him wanted to try. It really… he really looked like he was hurting. Sora could almost feel it, too. A broken heart aching for something. Completion, light, warmth. There must be something he could do.

Larger Unversed were coming out now, but with Terra, Aqua and Roxas rejoining them they were no match. Each one fell easily, all the while thinning out the crowd to reach Vanitas. At this point Sora knew he wasn’t imagining things. Vanitas looked uncomfortable, pained, irritated, and each emotion became more prominent as they pressed on.

Killing the Unversed was hurting him somehow.

He was blasted back by one of the larger Unversed. He stared up at its scowling, monstrous face, stunned for a moment. How much did it hurt? What was he feeling? /This was wrong./ He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to destroy him.

“Sora!” Terra dove in quick, grabbing Sora with one arm and narrowly missing a swipe from the Unversed. He put him down, concern prominent in his blue eyes. “Are you okay?” He was already pulling a potion out.

Sora blinked, stunned. “I’m fine. I think the Unversed are hurting him.”

“What?”

“Vanitas. I think something happens when we defeat one.”

Terra looked around. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

“Wait! I want to try talking to him one more time.”

Terra blocked a Flood jumping at them with his large keyblade. “Sora, it’s /Vanitas/. Talking with him won’t get us anywhere!”

Sora was already rushing through the crowd, narrowly dodging attacks on his way to the source. He felt Aqua fling a cure spell on him as he passed by and Roxas’ penetrating gaze as he got closer to Vanitas.

Of course Vanitas was ready to fight with an outstretched keyblade the minute he got to him, his former glare shoved down under a smirk.

“Ready for round two?” he teased.

“I’m not here to fight you or your Unversed,” Sora said.

Vanitas snorted. “I won’t sing Master Xehanort any praise, but how you bested him is beyond me. You have to fight if you want to survive!”

Sora blocked the heavy blow with his keyblade when Vanitas launched at him, but he didn’t fight back. He stayed on the defensive as he held off Vanitas and his monsters, trying to find an opening to say something or prove that he wasn’t here to cause more harm.

Flood launched themselves at him, wrapping their twisty little arms around him as if they were Dusks. His keyblade vanished under his restricted movements and he fell to his knees.

“Sora!” Ven cried out somewhere behind him as Vanitas approached.

“Hold on,” came Roxas’ quieter voice. The battlefield had stilled.

Sora struggled in the hold of the Flood. He stared up at Vanitas. He looked so sure of himself now. “Killing the Unversed hurts you, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“So what if it does? We all have a little price to pay for power. I’m not afraid to pay it,” he said.

“But you don’t have to pay it at all! You don’t have to fight us. What’s the point in hurting at all?”

Vanitas narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t hurt. It’s the emotions I poured out coming back into me.” He put a hand over his chest. “This incomplete heart can take the damage.”

“That’s even worse! What’s the point? If you hadn’t sent the Unversed out we would have never come to fight you here.” He could hear Ven and Roxas approaching slowly from behind.

“And leave you all to live out your days in peace? No. This is much more fun.” His grin was wicked.

“Well, /I/ don’t think it’s fun! And quite frankly, I don’t think you’re having fun, either!”

Vanitas pointed his keyblade at Sora. “Since when did I care what you think?”

Sora continued regardless. “Even if you’re ‘just darkness’, no one likes to spend their days hurting and alone.”

“We’ve had this conversat-”

“And you can’t convince me otherwise!” Vanitas scowled at being cut off. “I think you’re acting out when it doesn’t have to be this way. You’re -- you’re creating a problem when there isn’t one.”

He could feel Roxas and Ven’s presence directly behind him. “Vanitas,” the latter said.

Vanitas’ eyes widened, like he had been too caught up talking to Sora to notice them approach. “Ventus,” he greeted cooly. He looked to Roxas. “You.”

Roxas raised an eyebrow.

“Sora’s right,” Ven continued. “We’re not the same but… acting out sounds like something I would do. Have done, in the past. It’s time to stop this.”

“Trying to have a heart to heart, are we? I told you I made my choice.”

“And I’m offering a second chance. I won’t fight you forever.” There was a familiar sound of his keyblade disappearing. Even Roxas followed suit, but Sora could tell the heavy presence of Terra and Aqua would never dream of lowering their keyblades in Vanitas’ presence.

Vanitas narrowed his eyes, looking genuinely upset for the first time. “I don’t want your second chance.”

“What you want is to be whole,” Ven said. “Or to not be alone. Always hurting because of what you are when you don’t have to be that at all. You know, I’m starting to remember what it was like training with Master Xehanort. Rather, surviving with him. This isn’t about surviving, Vanitas. It’s about living.”

Vanitas gritted his teeth, raising his keyblade higher. Sora refused to wince or cower away. “I’m not above striking an enemy while they’re down, you know.”

“I’m not your enemy!” Sora said at the same time Roxas said, “You wouldn’t make it.”

“You don’t know what to do now that the master is gone,” Ven said. “Well, we’re offering you an answer to that! You don’t have to keep being what Master Xehanort made you out to be. If you turn us away, I won’t fight. I won’t come looking for you. I’ll let you go if you let me go.”

Sora could practically see the gears turning in Vanitas’ head. He did think loneliness was playing its part here. Without Ven and the others Vanitas had no one, and prickly though he may be, very few creatures could truly thrive in loneliness. Xemnas’ final words still stuck out to him about it.

“You make it seem so simple,” Vanitas said, looking up at Aqua and Terra. They were close enough to do serious damage if they wanted to, even with Unversed flocking them on all sides.

Ven actually smiled, albeit in a small and sort of pained way. “Guess Sora’s heart rubbed off on me.”

He’d take that as a compliment, for now at least. “There’s no room for shadows,” Sora said.

“Who’d wanna stay in their shadows anyway?” Roxas chimed in, arms crossed. “Just because you look like Sora doesn’t mean you have to steal his IQ, too.”

“Hey!”

Vanitas looked like he might have been stifling a real laugh there for a second. His rare silence might have meant something. He lowered his keyblade and the Flood holding Sora down released their hold. They didn’t disappear so much as crawl back to their creator with twitchy legs.

Sora recalled how quickly Vanitas had bailed when Ven woke up. He considered himself outmatched against three keyblade wielders and yet had picked a fight anyway with five of them. Was this supposed to be his last stand? Slowly, he got to his feet.

“Charming though this all is,” Vanitas said. “I don’t think everyone cares to broker peace.” He was smirking at Terra and Aqua.

Sora looked back at them. Their glares were spine chilling. Aqua tightened her grip on her keyblade.

Vanitas scoffed. “Still mad I broke that stupid wooden keyblade?”

“You broke my wooden keyblade?” Ven pouted.

“Ven, Sora,” Aqua said, ignoring the tease. “Not everyone can be reasoned with.”

“But they /do/ deserve the chance, even if it is a second one,” Roxas said. “Stop being such a tool Vanitas, and actually take the step into doing something right. Trust me, I know what being a tool is like. It gets old.”

Sora held his breath, afraid the harsher words would make Vanitas draw back in on himself. Thankfully, he didn’t look mad.

“You won’t want me as a friend for long,” Vanitas said, his words laced with a threat.

“Try me,” said Sora in an equally challenging voice. He felt like he was on the successful end of diffusing a bomb.

Vanitas looked around the Keyblade Graveyard. “There /are/ things brewing on the horizon. You and yours might make a good shield when the time comes.” He sounded like he might have seen something, but he didn’t seem particularly rattled.

“What sort of things?” Terra asked.

“Oh, you’ll see. Maybe I /don’t/ want to be alone when it comes. All the luck seems to be on this side anyway,” Vanitas said with a smirk. “Alright then.” He looked like a smug cat. “I’ll stick around. I’ll stop sending the Unversed to other worlds.” He extended his hand towards Sora, staring at Ven as he did so.

Sora took it without hesitation, giving a firm shake. “No more looming in shadows. If you’re really by our side, then you’re /really/ by our side.”

“For now.”

Roxas shook his head. “Friendship with Sora is kind of a lifelong thing. Do something to destroy it and your life probably won’t be so long.”

“Sure, sure,” Vanitas drawled. “We can paint each others nails and talk about how spooky the darkness is with a night light on.”

“Or,” Sora said, pulling out his phone. “We can start with something friends actually do.”

“What in the name of the masters is that ugly piece of-”

“It’s a phone!” There was a small surge of pride at knowing more than someone else when it came to technology. “We can take a picture so we always remember the day we won over your heart, Vanitas!”

“You didn’t win over shit.”

“Aqua, Terra, do you want to join?”

The two of them exchanged a pained look. They still had their keyblades out. “I think we’re good,” Aqua said.

Sora held the phone up with the camera pointed toward them. “All you gotta do is smile. Rox? Ven? You guys joining?”

Roxas had no problem walking closer to Vanitas and Sora to get in on the picture, but Ven was a little more hesitant. He seemed happy, but he had nearly given up on Vanitas before. This wasn’t going to be an easy thing to mend.

Roxas took the far left, squishing Vanitas closer to Sora, while Ven stood on Sora’s right, glancing at Vanitas. Sora wasn’t stupid. He knew this could all go terribly wrong and Vanitas wasn’t on their side now with the best of intentions. But at the end of the day, he could at least say he got a selfie with all the doubles.

“Everyone, say cheese!”

[ayearofpike]

Falling

Tom Doherty Associates, 2007 402 pages, 24 chapters ISBN 978-0-7653-5644-4 LOC: PS3566.I486 F35 2007 OCLC: 73502344 Released March 6, 2007 (per B&N)

Matt Connor has been wronged by the girl he loves. Kelly Fienman has been wronged by the suspect she’s stalking. They’re both out for vengeance, but while Matt is upfront and honest about the stunt he plans to pull, he isn’t really honest with himself about what he actually wants to get — and for her part, Kelly pretends that her need for justice is both moral and absent. When their paths inevitably cross, they’re left with several huge questions: what is right? what is good? do these things intersect? is it OK if they don’t?

(Thanksgiving and a child’s birthday were NOT conducive to A Year of Pike, gang. Let’s see if I can pick it back up here in December.)

I remembered being really happy with this book the first time I read it. Like, OK, Pike is taking it easy on the kidlit, having maybe resigned himself to the understanding that his style no longer fits with popular expectations. Plus, this came probably three years after I’d read a recent predecessor, and a solid five years after I’d BOUGHT one  — I got Alosha and The Shaktra out of the library, never read The Yanti until just now, and then I saw Falling at a bookstore sometime in 2008. I read it and I loved it: so unexpected, such power, what a shift in tone and characters, what a strong and solid cliffhanger ending — literally! Surely there exists some kind of excited blog record of me finding this, so long after I’d decided Pike wasn’t for me anymore. After spending entirely too long trawling the depths of my LiveJournal, though, I can’t find one.

And the reread? Eh. As it turned out, I didn’t actually remember very much about this book. Parts of it want to be The Silence of the Lambs (and Pike even nods to that) but it doesn’t have the same power. The rest? So much speculation and estimation left up to the reader to really understand this closed-book antagonist, who is actually quite selfish but we don’t get her perspective. She doesn’t even monologue when she has our hero at literally the end of his rope. And the powerful scene at the end? More like a trickle to a halt, made even weaker by the unnecessary intercutting to the other character’s perspective as she oversees the end of her antagonist’s life. We’ll get there. I don’t know. Maybe I was so excited to get this, and to have a book where a baby’s life and future hangs in the balance right around the same time I was raising my own baby as a new at-home parent, that I overlooked another one of Pike’s letdown endings.

I forgot to talk in the last post about the ISBN shifting to 13 digits. This started in 2007: all new books would have a code that better matched up with international book listing codes. These last two have had both an ISBN-10 and an ISBN-13, I assume because he had both of them slated prior to the change, but I’ve decided to just list the newer code for simplicity’s sake. You can do more research if you feel like it, or even convert back and forth between ISBN-10 and 13. It doesn’t really affect my blog, but it’s a change and I wanted to mention it.

So Falling. It actually could have been a pretty straightforward story, with much of the bulk of the book spent exploring the mental attitudes involved in what it takes to go beyond the law, commit some kind of horrific deed that most people couldn’t imagine. The real problem with this story is that it tries to cram too much into it, and the one crime is so vile and base that it renders our antihero’s misdeed into almost seeming unimportant. But it’s not — Matt’s actions are horrible and indefensible, especially as we don’t actually get his villain’s perspective, no matter what someone else did that was totally gross. (I am so a parent: “I don’t care what Tommy did, you are not to act that way.”)

What the hell does Matt actually do? This is where Falling is good: it keeps us in suspense for the first good quarter of the book as we try to understand his plan and how it’s going to adversely affect the girl. Because of course his object of vengeance is a girl — the one who just dumped him, actually. She didn’t “just dump him,” though; she strung him along as “the only one” while she was still in contact with her rich “ex,” who she is now married to and has an unborn child with, a child that could only have been conceived while Matt was still seeing her. And it’s not his, it can’t be his, because she never let him stick it in. So Matt is going to fake his own death by crashing a personal aircraft in the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, he will parachute to a waiting boat, anchored in a shallower area, and assume a new identity until he can carry out the second part of his plan: kidnap the baby, months later, after everyone has forgotten his involvement with the woman.

Kelly is one of the FBI agents assigned to the kidnapping case. She’s actually just back on the job after a tragic and devastating incident with a previous suspect that has taken out a good chunk of her GI system. And this is where Falling has problems: this second story, totally unrelated to and unnecessary for understanding Matt’s motivations, is clung to and pushed on us constantly through the whole book, even as it threatens to be a more engaging tale of horrific glee. Like, I get why Pike didn’t just write this one (out of concerns of being accused of ripping off Thomas Harris) but this is really TWO suspense stories, and he hasn’t properly fleshed out the tale of Kelly and the Sex Murderin’ English Teacher.

Because that’s what’s happened: three-four months before the kidnapping, she gets pulled into an investigation on a dude who has made videos of himself having extremely consensual sex with rich women, tying them to the beds, confronting them about their obvious infidelity to their rich husbands, and then killing them by pouring corrosive acid on (and then INTO) their chests. She has a Ph.D in mythology and literature, which they need because the dude is throwin’ out all sorts of esoteric references and they think that knowing them will help them track him down. Of course, Kelly has gone into FBI work because she wants to be a hero, and so she breaks like EVERY protocol in investigating the trail of these obscure Asian myths back to either Ohio State or Ohio University, depending on which page you look at. (Does Pike know there’s a difference?) All the evidence points to a doctoral student, but it’s been manipulated that way by his faculty advisor, who is doing the sex murders because he caught his wife cheating with the dude. And now he’s going to kill Kelly the same way, only he hasn’t counted on her being a totally buff FBI agent who actually MOVES THE ENTIRE BED SHE’S TIED TO and makes the acid splash on the ropes, which she can now break to get at her gun and cap the fucker in the back of the neck. Of course, the acid has also splashed on her stomach and eaten into her organs, hence the GI problems. And also her husband is pissed that she went to such crazy lengths and endangered herself, to the point where if she goes back to the FBI he’s not willing to hang around and watch her kill herself. So he moves out and takes their young daughter with him.

I KNOW. This is a WAY more fuckin’ interesting story than oh, boo hoo, she was stringing me along so I’m gonna kidnap her baby. It’s too bad that he drags this shit out and doesn’t give it more consideration. But as with so much literature, we gotta accept the tragic male antihero versus the strong female agent who is still trying to figure out the boundaries of her moral code.

Yeah, there’s still more story. Matt hires a nanny under the table to help take care of the baby, and she thinks they look alike. You hear this all the time as a parent, even if your kid looks NOTHING like you — but Matt’s curious, so he does a mail-away DNA test and it comes back unquestionably that he’s actually the father. So now he knows he can’t just bail on the kid like he was planning, but he needs money to raise him. So he sets up an intricate ransom for his ex and her husband, who has money (of course he has money; why do you think she married him?). Matt makes the dude put $3 million in cash and jewels into a bag, then chase all over metro LA until he finally ends up taking a boat out to Catalina Island. But halfway there, he instructs the husband to load the dough into a weighted box and throw it overboard. Because of course Matt is a scuba diver — this is a Pike book, after all. He retrieves the money and then uses a personal propeller to zip off underwater. And the FBI, which was so prepared for an island drop or a boat handoff, is caught with their pants all the way down.

Of course Kelly is furious, but also curious. She remembers seeing a picture of Matt in the woman’s desk, and asks about the circumstances of his death. It seems that the day Matt’s plane crashed, he had been on Catalina — finishing up his scuba certification. So now Kelly has connected the dots, in a way only a Pike heroine can, but she can’t imagine where to find the dude. But she knows someone who can: a certain Sex Murderin’ English Teacher, who is still alive but paralyzed from the neck down, who knows better than anyone Kelly knows how a twisted male mind works. He grasps the intricacies of the situation immediately and advises Kelly to follow the woman, because there’s no way she’s unaware.

Kelly doesn’t believe it, but sure enough the chick leads her directly to Matt and the baby, set up in a fancy apartment not even that far from the rich husband’s house. It seems that Matt felt like he had all the leverage he needed to get the girl back, now that he had the baby and some money. But it’s not enough — she knows that the dude isn’t ever going to let her just go, and that the only way to be totally free to be back with Matt is if they kill her husband. So Matt, against his better judgment, starts coming up with a plan to murder a dude: drive his boat to Catalina, get him super drunk, and then push him overboard on the way back. The girl, weirdly, insists that Matt has to be on board and actually do the pushing. Which makes Kelly, listening in on her bugs planted in the apartment, start to think that maybe she’s the actual monster, even though Matt has faked his own death and then kidnapped her son. So she affects her own secret identity and moves into the complex to get closer to the situation but also to try to keep Matt from doing something he’ll regret.

Matt actually has no intention of killing the husband. His plan was pretty much always to tag along on the boat and then get the girl to fake her OWN death, and then they can be free and alone and untraceable. But but but, the girl objects, if she is dead and not the husband, then she won’t be heir to all his money! But Matt flatly refuses to push the dude. So she goes ahead and does it. Unlucky for her, they’re being tailed by — who else? — Kelly the Hero, who now has enough circumstantial evidence to arrest the woman for murder. Her father-in-law bails her out of jail, raising more weird questions, and then she manages to convince Matt to help her jump bail and escape with all her worldly possessions. They make it to Utah the first night, but the ten minutes Matt runs out to buy diapers and formula is long enough for a dude to bust in and tie his girl to the bed and be looming over her with a beaker full of acid when he gets back.

Holy shit, right? By now Matt knows who Kelly is and has gotten her backstory, and he knows that she’s willing to let him slide on the whole kidnap kerfuffle, so he calls her with this weird coincidence. But there’s no way it could be SMET, who is totally paralyzed! But Kelly now fears for HIS ex-wife’s life, and flies back to Ohio to do another check on this whole twisted clan. The best thing she can think of is to do a home stakeout with the lady and her new man, the grad student she was cheating with. Only — uh-oh — turns out the dude is in cahoots with SMET the whole time! His whole life, in fact: Cheatin’ Grad Student is SMET’s little brother! Their mother was also a cheater, and died of complications from their dad pushing her down the stairs after he found out. But wait! It seems that SMET actually did the killing, replacing her cardiac epinephrine shot with vinegar, so when she seized in her hospital bed it was the attempt to save her that killed her. Please note: SMET did this as a motherfucking TEN YEAR OLD. From there, he realized the thrill of destroying loose women and employed his little brother in helping to deface and dispose of the bodies.

So it only follows that he’d employ the dude to lure his wife, and was devastated when she bit, and that has turned into more killin’. In fact, it was CGS who was in Utah the night before, on his brother’s orders, ready to take down another terrible, cheating, murdering, bail-jumping lady. But this kid is even more debased than his brother, and is just going to rape and dismember Kelly while his new bae is knocked out from drugs in her dinner. Luckily she has her own syringe of cardiac vinegar, uncovered in her prior search of the dad’s house, and she manages to stab it into CGS’s heart just in the nick of time.

What’s up with Matt and the On-the-Lam Family? No big, they’re just doing some leisurely rock climbing now that they’re free from dead rich husbands or acid murderers. This, it turns out, is Matt’s one final big test to his girl’s fidelity — and she fails big time, cutting his rope and leaving him stranded on the edge of a cliff while he’s rappelling. But Matt’s been here before, because he’s an experienced and expert rock climber (because what the FUCK ELSE can this asshole be good at), and he manages to free-climb up the side of the cliff and catch his girl as she’s packing up the car. So now it’s her turn to be stuck on a cliff ledge, until he can get to a pay phone and call the cops on her for jumping bail. And we’re all like, good god, dude, it took you fuckin’ well long enough.

Of course we can’t just be done, right? Kelly has a sex murderin’ English teacher to revenge. She makes it look like a suicide, unscrewing part of his wheelchair and scraping his wrist veins against it so he bleeds out. But before he goes, he wants to talk to Matt, because they’re not so different, and he’d like to congratulate a fellow charismatic criminal for getting away with his misdeeds. And then he dies, and Kelly swears off FBI work so that maybe she can go back to her family and actually appreciate it and be appreciated by them.

Um ... what? But yeah, that’s the end of Falling. Either one of these stories would have been better served by itself, unless he could have given us Kelly’s necessary backstory in the beginning rather than trying to make everything happen at the same time. It comes across as excessive and unnecessary, and makes the ending fall flat. And when you have a blah ending, it doesn’t matter how vibrant the characters have been, or how real and horrific their struggles, or how much you sympathized with them throughout the narrative. All you remember is the “um ... what?”

[sapphicscholar]

hey so i have a stupid funny prompt that popped into my head, could you write sanvers watching taxi brooklyn together, cue alex not seeing the uncanny resemblance between her and cat, maggie continually telling her, and maggie criticizing everyone lol

Here you go! It’s also posted on AO3 if anyone would prefer to read there (or if other folks have watched Taxi Brooklyn and want to commiserate there in the comments). Fair warning for spoilers for the show and pure crack ahead.

It had all started with Maggie coming home from work excitedly declaring that she had found a new show for them to watch. “Babe! I found your TV twin!” she had insisted, holding out her phone to a skeptical Alex, who had refused to admit any resemblance. “When you see her in action, you’ll see it,” Maggie maintained.

Which is how they found themselves curled up on their couch one rainy Saturday morning, intent on binging several episodes. During the first episode, Maggie insisted, time and again, that the resemblance was truly uncanny. Refusing to budge on her position, Alex shook her head. “Absolutely not! Look at how short her hair is!”

“Babe,” Maggie whined, “you’d look like her with short hair.”

“I don’t wear that much plaid.”

“But how great would it be if you did? Also, maybe you should give that open-flannel over sexy ribbed tank top thing a shot…just saying, it’d be hot.”

“It’s hot on her. On me…no, I’d look funny.”

“That’s so not true. Also, I’m totally shipping your character with the ME. I think they’d make an excellent couple.”

“You’ll ship any two pretty women who talk to each other,” Alex retorted, feeling more than a little proud of herself for having remembered the definition of shipping after learning all about fandom from Maggie. “Plus, she’s not my character!”

Maggie just sighed loudly and rolled her eyes; she’d get Alex to see it eventually. As she focused more on the plot, though, Maggie grew increasingly frustrated with their depictions of police work. “You can’t just commandeer a taxi!” Then, a few minutes later: “You don’t just go with your gut! God, Alex, your character is a terrible detective!”

“She’s not me!” Alex shot back.

By the time they got to the third episode and Annabella was introduced, Maggie cackled, “Oh my god! Cat even has her own Vicky Donahue!”

“What do you mean? They’re just friends, Maggie.”

“Yeah…just like you and I are gal pals that share a bed and casually fuck but just like BFFs do, right?”

“Not the same.”

“They’re talking about practicing kissing, for god’s sake!” Maggie yelled, nearly upending the popcorn in her excitement to make her point.

Alex paused, rewinding to hear that scene again. “No!” she countered. “They were practicing kissing the same neighbor boy! That’s totally different.”

“You know it’s just one stop short of turning to each other and cutting out the middle man. Literally.”

“Speaking from experience?” Alex asked, arching an eyebrow as she paused the show and turned to regard Maggie more closely.

“What? No…”

“That’s a big yes.”

“It’s a no…just, well, a nuanced no? There are a lot of straight girls in college who really want to know what it’s like to kiss a girl and all.”

“And you were only too happy to satisfy their curiosity?”

“I satisfied something.” Maggie preened as Alex scowled. “C’mon, you love me.”

“You’re okay.”

“It’ll do. Now hit play! I need to find out what happens.”

By the sixth episode, both Maggie and Alex had grown quite vocal in their commentary. It helped that they had begun drinking after lunch—just beer, but enough to loosen their tongues.

“You can’t just take your friend to interview a serial killer! No captain would allow that!” Maggie yelled at the screen, tossing a handful of popcorn, even though she knew she’d be the one to vacuum it up later.

“It’s a show,” Alex whispered, pressing kisses to Maggie’s temple and stroking a hand through her hair.

And to her credit, Maggie did let that particular point go in favor of complaining as soon as she first suspected that the new serial killer might be a woman. “Statistically that is so unlikely. And are they really going to make the killer a queer woman? That’s so rude. I mean, yeah, I’d be in love with Cat too.” In response to Alex’s glare, she added, “Because she looks so much like you, duh. But we’re not all villains! When is television going to do right by us?”

“I thought the biggest problem was all of the shows that kill us off.” Alex tilted her head to the side, trying to remember the list of dead lesbian characters Maggie had once rattled off to her—Dana, Tara, Lexa, probably more names ending with ‘a’s too.

“Well, that’s its own separate issue. But also TV shows somehow think it’s gonna be a big plot twist to have some crazy jealous, possessive lesbian who goes crazy and murders her ex or some girl she’s in love with even though they’ve barely met or something. It’s rude. I hate it.”

“Do you hate it more than the bury your gays trope, though?”

Considering it for a moment, Maggie shook her head. “No. If they’d get a little more innovative with it, I wouldn’t mind the gay villains. Very campy. Lots of history there. But stop having us do the same damn thing over and over again. We literally fill the halls of English Departments and MFA programs and art schools! We’re more creative than they give us credit for,” she huffed.

Once Maggie was vindicated in her suspicions about the show, they took a break to get themselves another round of beers and make out for a while to “make up for the lack of overt queerness on the show,” Maggie had insisted, though as they let the seventh episode play, she went back to insisting that Cat was quite clearly a lesbian.

Alex laughed it off, until the show cut to a scene of Cat making out with Rhys and looking terribly uncomfortable as she pulled away, finding that she just couldn’t do it. “Well…that is a bit familiar,” she chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Danvers, she is literally you – those are your mannerisms!”

Alex shook her head at Maggie and looked back at the screen just in time to see Cat transition seamlessly from aggressively making out with Rhys to pinning him on his stomach. “What the fuck?” Alex laughed.

“Oh my god…was she trying to peg him?” Maggie cackled. “If this isn’t proof that Cat is as gay as you are, I don’t know what is.”

“I think she was trying to arrest him?”

“That’s not fun. Unless it’s role play,” Maggie added with a wink.

“But they wouldn’t really imply that she was trying to, you know…would they?”

“It’s based on a French film,” Maggie shrugged. “Plus, I bet Gregg was into it.”

“Ew, he’s so gross.”

“True. But also you and your doppelganger are also both so gay.”

“We don’t look alike,” Alex huffed. “Seriously, she’s got more freckles than I do. And her hair is lighter. And shorter. Also, I feel like we’re built differently.”

“Freckles can be covered with makeup. Hair can be cut and dyed different colors. And as the person who is perhaps most intimately familiar with your body and your build, I’m telling you, you’re totally twins. Also, you act similarly.”

“You were just calling her a bad cop!”

“Okay, not like that. I mean, she’s not following procedures, but I’m talking about your temperaments. You’re both a little…angry?”

“You’re not helping your case.”

“I meant to say passionate!”

—

As the credits for the twelfth episode rolled, Alex clicked play to go on to the next episode, only to find that an entirely new show began. Grumbling, she clicked back to the main menu to get back to their show, only to find that episode 12 was apparently the last episode of the season. “Mags!” she yelled to Maggie, who had gotten up to find some dessert. There was nothing like staying on the couch all day to tire them out.

“What?” Maggie yelled back, making her way into the living room balancing a box of cookies and a carton of vegan ice cream.

“Where can we stream season two?”

“There isn’t a season two.”

“Excuse me?”

“It got cancelled.”

“So you’re telling me that we’re never going to know what happens? Will Gregg get arrested? Will Cat get arrested? Is Leo’s roommate okay? Is his family okay? Is Cat’s mom alive? Was she on the boat? Is Annabella going to jail? Oh my god, there are so many fucking questions! Why would you let us watch a show that got cancelled?”

“You said you didn’t even like the show that much,” Maggie tried by way of a defense, though she had to admit, she’d expected a more satisfying ending too.

“Just because it’s not my favorite doesn’t mean I don’t want to know how it ends!”

Maggie’s face suddenly lit up and she nearly threw the desserts in her excitement as she began gesticulating wildly—one of the surest signs that she had crossed the line from tipsy to drunk. “Oh my gosh! Wait! You already look like Cat, then we can get J’onn to shapeshift into Leo and find people who look enough like the other characters—no! Wait! J’onn can play them all! Except Cat, because you already look like her. And we’ll create our own finale to answer all the questions!”

Alex burst out laughing only to find that Maggie had dropped off the desserts and already had a pen and notepad in hand. “Okay, first question,” Maggie began. “How long into this finale do we have to wait for you to come out?”

[btsorpheus]

 (BTS (방탄소년단) MAP OF THE SOUL : 7 'Interlude : Shadow' Comeback Trailer; Jan. 9, 2020.)

MIN YOONGI IS DEAD, WHO KILLED MIN YOONGI?

BTS have never been afraid to be horrifically personal in their works. Even in 2013, when they first started out, their songs criticized the grueling nature of being a K-pop idol. In “We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2,” one of the songs on their first album, RM declares that they are, indeed, “bulletproof” even as Jungkook recalls “[giving] up sleep for [his] dreams” and Suga confesses, “My limit was broken in the / double standards and many oppositions.”

Out of the seven members, Suga has been the most revealing of his interiority. This usually comes through his music more than any other source.

One of the songs my roommate cried through was on his solo album, Agust D. Agust D is one of his many monikers: born Min Yoongi, beginning his rap career as Gloss, rebranded by Big Hit Entertainment as Suga, and self-declared Agust D (which is “Suga” backwards plus DT, which allegedly stands for Daegu Town, his home). Agust D is a deeply personal album in which he discusses his social anxiety, depression and implied suicidal intent, and growing ambition amidst it all.

Which is the real man? The vulnerable and furious rapper, the K-pop idol, or the boy born in Daegu?

The answer feels like it should be obvious. But as Hitchcock’s 1958 thriller Vertigo proves, people don’t always want real.

Vertigo is an Orphic film that intertwines with celebrity. By the time this film was released, Alfred Hitchcock was already an established director and the film’s star, Jimmy Stewart, was a popular and well-liked Hollywood leading man. Though the film was largely unrecognized when originally released, it has since become a cult classic with a 95% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Like BTS, Vertigo has slowly accumulated celebrity and respect over time.

In the film, the hero, a detective named Scottie, falls in love with Madeleine, the woman he’s been tasked by an old classmate to follow. However, Madeleine appears to be possessed by her ancestor, a woman named Carlotta. And to top it all off, Madeleine is not even real--she’s really Judy, a young woman hired by the classmate to pretend to be the true Madeleine.

Three woman exist in Judy: herself, Madeleine, and Carlotta. Scottie is convinced that he is in love with Madeleine. Even when just Judy wants him, he tries to reshape her into the Madeleine he thought he knew.

Scottie occupies the role of Orpheus--a man chasing after the woman he loved, a woman who is technically dead. Scottie’s attempts to resurrect Madeleine echo Orpheus’s attempt at guiding Eurydice out of the Underworld. It is, from the start, a doomed endeavor.

Judy/Madeleine must then represent Eurydice. Though perhaps not evident in Ovid’s myth, Eurydice is often depicted as different in life and death in later iterations. Judy/Madeleine is extremely fragmented, but even the Eurydice of French filmmaker Jean Cocteau’s Orpheus (1950) changes after death. Lively and happy in life, she becomes quiet and stiff in death.

(Orpheus (1950) dir. Jean Cocteau.)

In both films, the mirror is used as a signal to the viewer that there is a separate virtual reality that the characters are in contact with. In Orpheus, the mirror is their portal to the Underworld--a physical parallel reality. In Vertigo, the mirror is a nod to Scottie’s deluded belief in the Madeleine he thought existed.

In Suga’s music video for “Interlude : Shadow,” he opens the song by standing in front of a door, which transforms into a reassembled mirror--that then acts as a portal to introduce a second Suga behind it (as shown in the header image on this section). It’s eerily similar to the mirrors of Cocteau’s film--gateways to a separate, parallel reality.

The Orpheus myth demands a death. Eurydice must die so that Orpheus can make his katabasis, and she must remain dead so that Orpheus can mourn so powerfully that he "[draws] the trees, / the beasts, the stones to follow” (Ovid 259). Eurydice must die so that Orpheus can succeed.

On Agust D’s “The Last,” Suga kills Min Yoongi: “Min Yoongi is dead already (I killed him).” If Min Yoongi is dead, then who is singing? Since the album is credited under Agust D, then it must be him. But his idol identity as Suga is still present; a majority of the listeners tuning into Agust D are only doing so because they already know him as Suga from BTS.

Min Yoongi must die so that Suga can succeed. In Vertigo, Judy and Madeleine can’t coexist for Scottie, and though Scottie and his grief-stricken attempts to bring Madeleine back make him an Orpheus-figure, the mytheme of the fated separation of lovers is echoed in Madeleine and Judy’s inability to coexist even if both women, though one is fictional, have fallen in love with Scottie.

Suga can’t constantly exist as both his constructed (or, fictional) idol persona and his organic self. RM recognizes this same conflict in “Intro : Persona,” in which he questions his identity and who he wants to be. The idea of death comes back into play as he asks, “Who the hell am I? / Tell me all your names baby / Do you wanna die?” Though the question is posed in the second-person, he later addresses the several personas he has to wear in his daily life:

“The 'me' that I remember and people know”

“The 'me' that I created myself to vent out”

“The 'me' that I want myself to be”

“The 'me' that people want me to be”

“The 'me' that you love”

“And the 'me' that I create”

“The 'me' that's smiling”

“The me that's sometimes in tears”

(RM dancing in front of a set of mirrors in the MV for “Intro : Persona.” March 27, 2019.)

As an internationally famous group, BTS face a lot of pressure to maintain a public image. To do so, they must sacrifice who they would’ve been otherwise: the idea of being a normal person with a normal life. Now, they must play the personalities that “people know” and “love,” and who “people want [them] to be.”

They essentially confirm the existence of their public masks in a Q&A during a fan event, 2019 Festa. It’s not just RM who feels this pressure, but all of them. J-Hope and Jin both discussed their need to be “cheerful” and full of “energy” on-camera and in public in order to maintain the optimistic façades that their fans are used to seeing.

But the public self isn’t always a danger. Jimin commented, “As BTS, I tend to be assertive and I’m a very confident guy. But what troubles me is whether Jimin as BTS and Park Ji Min should be more alike or different.” 

They project qualities they admire in an effort to be perfect idols, but in doing so have become almost static, idealized role-models both for their fans and for themselves.

(BTS (방탄소년단). Jungkook in BTS MAP OF THE SOUL : 7 Concept Photo Sketch #2. Feb. 19, 2020.)

As the youngest member of BTS, Jungkook presents another form of Eurydice’s death in his solo song on Map of the Soul: 7, “My Time.” In it, he recounts his journey from being a trainee to his current position as one of the most popular idols in the industry.

Because he’s the youngest member, Jungkook debuted at the age of 16. This isn’t unusual in K-pop; superstar Taemin debuted at 14. But he’d been training all through his formative years and begun his career before even graduating high school--because of that, he’s had to “[become] a grown-up faster than everyone else.” As his peers continued their education or completed their compulsory military service, Jungkook has been caught up in the constant whirlwind of the entertainment industry, feeling “alone in a different time and space.”

Jungkook describing his career as an idol as a form of isolation is reminiscent of Eurydice’s fatal imprisonment. There’s a reason the musical Hadestown depicts the Underworld as a highly industrialized institution that Eurydice binds herself to, locked up behind a restrictive contract not dissimilar from a K-pop “slave contract.”

Like how Suga sacrifices his private self for the glory of being a public figure, Jungkook has sacrificed his childhood to grow into a celebrity. In an interview from the third episode of BTS’s documentary series Burn the Stage, Jungkook calls his sense of self “a manifestation of all [the other members’] characters coming together.” Jungkook says, “What I see, feel, and learn is mostly from the members.” Whoever Jungkook would’ve become had he not entered the Korean entertainment industry has been lost. But unlike Suga, who intentionally “killed” Min Yoongi, his loss has been a gradual, perhaps accidental one.

In this, BTS continues the Orphic myth: whether Eurydice’s death is an accident or not varies on the teller.

In this way, BTS have come to occupy both the Orpheus and Eurydice roles. As Orpheus, they’re powerful and influential musicians who cross physical and linguistic boundaries. As Eurydice, they sacrifice a part of their selves in a performative death to be public personalities.

Even though Madeleine and Judy can’t coexist, Orpheus and Eurydice come in a pair. The Orpheus of Sarah Ruhl’s play Eurydice is distraught without her--he loses his sense of reality and self when she dies, and it’s this distress that motivates him to find her. The clerk officiating Orfeu’s marriage in Black Orpheus turns to Mira, a woman outside the myth’s typical structure, to jokingly ask if she’s Eurydice under the assumption that Orpheus and Eurydice must always be together. 

Black Orpheus, like Vertigo, is a film surrounded in stardom. The fame of Brazil’s Carnival, the holiday during which Black Orpheus takes place, surrounds the film, and portraying Orpheus as a local celebrity plays into the struggles of maintaining a public image. Orpheus is expected to marry Mira, the queen bee in their community, but pines after the quiet newcomer, Eurydice. He struggles between maintaining his reputation as a beloved musician and becoming the man who breaks Mira’s heart--and when he chooses the latter, his once-fans immediately turn against him and destroy his home.

Because BTS’s songs are as much about the downsides of fame as they are about BTS--their personal struggles, or at least the ones they’re willing to share, stem from that aspect of themselves.

BTS, with their public personas, come to embody both halves of the mythic pair. And while Eurydice must die in some respect (“I killed [her]”), she lives on, like a ghostly shade, in others.

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[soldierstark]

Chemistry | Part 1 | COLE SPROUSE X READER

Description: When Camila hosts a viewing part for the season 1 premiere of Riverdale, the reader find out that the fans ship her and Cole together on and off screen. So she decides to have some fun with it.

Word Count: 1972

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Chemistry isn’t something you can fake no matter how good of an actress or actor you are. You either have it or you don’t and I’ve yet to find to a way to create it if it’s just not there.

I’m pretty sure the main reason I got my job on Riverdale was because of the chemistry I had with my co-star, Cole Sprouse. I auditioned for the role of a girl who played his character Jughead’s love interest on the show, so it was important to the casting director that whoever played this character got along with Cole.

Cole was in the room reading lines with the people auditioning for the role and it became inherently obvious within the first 20 seconds that we had great chemistry and similar interests.

I walked into the room wearing dark wash jeans and a black and white flannel with white converse. Cole stood up straight off of the table he was leaning against and looked me up and down. He too was wearing dark wash jeans and a black and white flannel with white converse, though he made it look one hundred times better than I did.

Cole broke out in a grin and chuckled. “I like your style…” he trailed off not knowing my name.

“(Y/N),” I supplied him with a smile of my own. “And thank you I like yours as well. Great minds think alike and I have a great one,” I said with a wink.

The people in the room all let out a laugh at my response. Cole walked up to me and reached a hand out. “Well nice to meet you (Y/N) I’m Cole Sprouse and I’ll be one of your co-stars if you get this role.”

I firmly grasped his reached out hand and shook it firmly. “Nice to meet you too Cole though I already knew your name. I don’t live under a rock.”

And the rest as they say is history.  I got a call the next day saying I got the part and showed up to set the following week. That was a year ago.

Cole and I’s characters have yet to do anything but almost kiss a few times to the frustration of the fans who ship them together. On screen, however both Jughead and my character have admitted that they like one another to their friends which means when we do scenes together I have to add in the awkward teenage hormone situation they have going on.

Since Cole and I are such good friends in real life, it’s hard not to laugh during serious scenes together so it’s not uncommon for us to break down into a fit of giggles when the director yells cut. The hardest ones to film are the scenes where the sexual tension between our characters is through the roof but we are both professional actors so we manage.

The season 1 finale was set to air tonight and Camila was hosting a party for the cast and crew. I knew that I would have a great time but KJ, Lili, and I would probably be the only one’s not drinking tonight because we’re all under 21.

I waltzed into Camila’s apartment not bothering to knock. A lot of people were already there drinking and eating pizza on the couch in front of the TV. I made my way into the kitchen to get something without alcohol.

“Wow (Y/N) it’s nice to see you so dressed up for once,” a familiar voice said from the doorway. I looked up from pouring my drink to see Cole standing in the doorway leaning casually against the wall. He was obviously poking fun at me because I was wearing skinny jeans and a t shirt that was one size to big.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my drink. “I came here to eat pizza and watch all of ya’ll get drunk Cole. I’m not gonna dress up when there’s about a 75 percent chance of me getting thrown up on tonight.”

He laughed and came into the kitchen. “Who do you think’s gonna be the one that throws up on you?”

I looked out into the living room which I could see because Camila’s apartment was very open. My eyes focused on Casey who was drinking a beer and laughing with the occasional hiccup. “Casey for sure,” I answered. I leaned against the counter behind me and began chugging my drink.

“What the hell (Y/N) is that vodka?” Cole asked shocked.

I put my glass down and looked at him incredulously. “No you idiot I literally just turned 20 this is water. Plus who the hell would pour themselves 32 ounces of hard liquor?”

He walked closer to me and leaned against the counter directly to my left. “Someone who’s looking to get fucked up,” he said in a voice that resembled that of a valley girl’s.

I threw my head back with laughter and smiled up at Cole who was staring at me intently. “What?” I asked raising an eyebrow. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“No! I was just-,” he started looking away from me. “Never mind.”

I nodded my head letting it go and checked the time on my phone. “Finale airs in 3 minutes we should go get some seats while there’s still some left.”

Cole and I ended up sitting on the floor in front of couch next to each other. By the end of the finale my head was resting on his shoulder while his arm was wrapped around my shoulder holding me in place. I started to doze off because I was so comfortable but sat up straight when everyone around me started to wolf whistle.

I rubbed my eyes and looked at the screen to see Camila and KJ in a hot make out session as the opening beats to Believer started to play. Cole and I’s big scene was about to come up and I was excited to see how it turned out.

“Get some Apa!” a very drunk Casey yelled raising his bottle. We all laughed at him and watched as Camila started to strip on screen

I groaned loudly. “I feel so dirty watching this,” I said covering my eyes.

“You’re so innocent (Y/N). What are you gonna do when you and Cole’s character finally get together?” Lili asked with a laugh. “You’ll probably end up making out with Cole within the first month of filming next season.”

“I am so looking forward to that,” Cole said smiling down at me.

I bumped my shoulder against his playfully and tried to hide the blush I could feel rising to my cheeks. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it alright.”

A voice I recognized as my own came through the speakers. I watched intently as Cole and I’s characters walked around his dad’s house talking about that nights events. They ended up in the kitchen where my character leaned against the counter talking to Jughead.

The room was so quiet I could hear a pin drop. Jughead put his hands on either side of my characters waist boxing her in so she couldn’t move. She looked up at him with pink tinged cheeks holding eye contact with Jughead.  Neither moved for a moment until she reached a hand up pushed a piece of Jughead’s hair out of his face.

He leaned into her touch and smiled at her lovingly. My character rested her hand on the nape of Jughead’s neck and started pulling his head down to hers. Right when they were about to kiss a knock rang out at the door of Jughead’s house.

“That was intense as hell,” Camila muttered from behind us. “I think I’m gonna need a cold drink to calm myself down,” she said fanning herself. The whole cast and crew laughed

“Yea the sexual tension between you two in that scene was insane,” Lili added. “I see why the fans ship you guys so hard.”

I nodded in agreement. “I know they’re cute together aren’t they,” I said looking back at the screen.

“No that’s not what I meant,” Lili said causing me to turn back around.

“Then what did you mean?” I asked sounding confused.

“You and Cole,” she said simply. “The fans ship you two together and I see why. That scene you guys were just in, seemed too real to be just acting.”

KJ handed me his phone. “Here, read some of the replies I got on this picture I posted of you two earlier.”

I grabbed the phone skeptically and held it between Cole and I. The picture was of us earlier watching the finale with my head on Cole’s shoulder and his arm around me. The replies were all along the lines of ‘(Ship/Name) lives’ or ‘they’re so cute together I’m crying’.

“Can you believe this?” I asked Cole handing KJ back his phone.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I mean I was shocked when I first heard about it but what are we gonna do about it?”

“Wait first heard about it? How long has this been a thing?” I asked looking at everyone in the room.

“It started to gain traction around the 6th episode. Maybe the 7th,” Camila answered. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Wow,” I sighed leaning back against the couch. “I must be a much better actress than I thought.”

Cole laughed and ruffled my hair. “It takes two to tango (Y/N),” he said. “We’re just that good of a team.”

I smiled at him and stood up with a groan. “Alright, who wants a ride home? I’ll take 3 people since half of ya’ll aren’t fit to drive right now. At Casey.” Cole and Casey raised their hands. “Aight let’s bounce. Peace homies,” I said waving goodbye.

“Spoken like a true millennial (Y/N),” Cole said as we left Camila’s apartment.

The roads were pretty much empty at this time of night so it didn’t take longer than 10 minutes for me to drop Casey off at his place. That left Cole and I in the car alone, his face being illuminated by overhead street lights every other second.

“I think we could have some fun with this,” I said breaking the silence.

“Fun with what?” he asked looking over at me.

I glanced into the rear view mirror and switched lanes. “Fun with the fact that the fans ship us so much.”

“Really?” he said sounded surprised. “Never knew you had a devious side to you (Y/N)”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s even devious, I’m just saying that we could post more pictures of us together and amp up the flirting during interviews.  You know, give them something to cry about.”

“That sounded mean.”

“Oh you know what I mean Cole. When I was younger all I did was read books and watch TV so I understand where they’re coming from. I used to stay up until all hours of the night blogging and speculating about every little thing that happened between people I shipped together. And I enjoyed every minute of it I had such a good time, fandoms are like family.”

“Nerd,” Cole scoffed, laughing slightly.

I punched him in arm jokingly. “I’m serious! C’mon it’ll be fun!” I said dragging out the last word. “We have a sleuth of interviews coming up now that season 1 has aired and we’re not filming anything. It’ll make answering the same questions over and over again fun.”

“Well how could I pass on an opportunity to flirt with such a pretty girl for months on end,” Cole replied grinning at me.

I clapped my hands on the steering wheel in excitement. “Yay! This gonna be so fun Cole just you wait.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that for a second.”

[falling-pages]

Tough Kids: Short Story

This story is about two characters, pseudo-siblings, who run a con to get to California. They finally have a heart-to-heart about their past, futures, and the impact they have had on each other while also getting on each others’ nerves.

Below is the link to read it in another tab, in case you don’t like reading it in a text box. Read, reblog, share, like, and comment!

*My story and characters. All rights reserved*

“That’s no way for you to live. I have to think about you, about your future. You’re my family now, too.” “Don’t worry about me. I’m with you, for whatever happens.”

https://writer.zohopublic.com/writer/published/f0tjsc4cf6bad9dd7441e8b35a5b1d1542f40

Moonlight washes over his hair, shrouding him in an angelic light so ironic God would chuckle. He didn’t hear me coming, or if he did, he gave no indication. But as I walked closer to him, the moonlight blanket began to fade until it was just a thin mist around his gaunt frame. I kicked a pebble and he slightly turned his head; the shadows did nothing to hide the worry lines on his forehead and the bags under his eyes. Suddenly, the light wasn’t so angelic. It was ghostly and cold.             He doesn’t deserve ghostly and cold. He deserves warm firelight and a mother’s kiss while he sleeps. And a meal, for God’s sake. He looks like he hasn’t eaten in days.             “Aren’t you cold out here?” I ask, touching his pointed shoulder.             He flinches under my touch, but he plays it off as a shrug. “Not really.”             “Come back inside, Mark,” I say. “The fire is going, and I’ll make you some tea if you can’t fall asleep.”             “I’m just scared they’re gonna find out,” he says, eager to change the subject. He reaches up to scratch his eyebrow, his hand practically glowing white. “Cons like this never last. Someone is going to figure us out, and then what?”             “That’s a problem for another day, kid.” I lean my forearms on the ledge of the porch balcony. “Don’t worry about that.”             Mark mirrors my posture, looking out over the parking lot of the motel. “I can’t lose this, Pipes. You’re like a sister to me.”             “Well, that is the gimmick we’re using.” I reach over and ruffle his hair. “Even though we look nothing alike.”                    “Yeah, yeah, I got mom’s eyes and dad’s nose and you got dad’s hair and mom’s face or whatever.” He recites our fake genetic history without any hesitation, rolling his eyes. “I don’t see how people fall for it.”             “Don’t question it,” I say. “The more convincing we are, the more money we make. Besides, we can always say we’re half-siblings or that you’re adopted.”             “Hey! Why am I the adopted one?”             “Because I'm the one who literally found you in a dumpster."             He swats at me and frowns. His face is rough and hard, his cheekbones so sharp. I need to be a better sister, better provider—             A gust of wind blows through, and Mark shakes. I take off my scarf and offer it to him. “Sure you’re not cold?”             He hesitates, then shakes his head. “I’ve had worse before you met me. Nothing beats New Years in the Bronx, I swear. Cardboard boxes don’t do jack.”             I roll my eyes and loop the scarf around his neck anyways. “But you’re not on the streets anymore,” I plead. “You’re in Richmond, in a motel with a lit fireplace and a bed and blankets. Please come inside.”             He stands his ground, and I lose my patience. I reach and grab him by the ear and march back to our room. Despite his protests, I’m determined.            After unlocking the door, we go inside, and I shove him onto his bed. “What was that for?” he yells, rubbing his ear.             I draw the curtains and warm up the tea kettle. After I complained a couple of times to the concierge about having coffee but no tea, they sent some tea bags free of charge. Sometimes it pays to be pushy. Now we’ll have supplies while we’re on the road.             “You are not caching a cold on my watch,”I say, rummaging through the bags.                “Why not?” On cue, he sneezes. “It would help sell the act.”               I pause. That is true, but there are too many variables. “You would sneeze on a potential Good Samaritan and scare him off.” I rummage through the tea choices, frowning at the lack of actually good options. “How do you feel about chamomile?”             “Whatever.” Mark winces as he unwraps my scarf. In an instant, I’m at his side unpacking the first aid kit. His movement cracks his chapped knuckles, the slight bit of blood still unsightly. He catches my gaze and snickers. “This is your fault, you know. You wouldn’t let me use your lotion.”             “Hey.” I dab at the wound with a cotton ball. “If you wanna smell like peony and lavender, be my guest.” He wrinkles his nose, and I smirk. “Want me to get you some manly lotion next time we hit the store?”             “Please. Get some scents like football or war or denial.”             Smiling, I hold up the bloody cotton ball and dab some ointment on his skin. “Can you wrap them, or do you need me to?”                          He rolls his eyes hard enough to see stars. “Scratch what I said. You’re not a sister to me, you’re definitely like a mom.”             “You bet I am, kid. Now, is that a yes or a no?”             “No!” He snatches the bandages from me. “I’m sixteen, Piper. I can put a Band-Aid on my hand.”             I raise my hands in surrender. “Okay, kid, just making sure.”             He peels the bandage. “I’m not a kid.”             “You act like it sometimes.”             “Hey!” This time he laughs, and my heart warms up. Any time he laughs is rare. I want to treasure it. Hopefully I can get him to laugh a little more and smile a little brighter. “You can’t call me a kid, you’re just nineteen!”             “Which makes me a legal adult, which means I can adopt you.” I smack my lips as I put on lip balm. “So unless you want to be calling me mom for the rest of your life, I suggest you start respecting your elders, son.”             Mark opens his mouth, shuts it, and opens it again. “You’re so annoying.”             The kettle whistles, and I grab two mugs to pour the tea. “You know I’m doing this for the best, right? You’re my family now, too.”             With a brief smile, he joins me on the couch. “I know.”             We sip in silence for a little bit, enjoying the heat and each other’s company. When we first met seven months ago, I had no idea that the soaked, shivering orphan hiding in a Philadelphia dumpster would end up meaning the world to me. He has helped me deal with my issues, and I’ve hoped I’ve helped him with his. Back then, he could barely stand and shrunk from every outstretched hand. Now, he’s tapping my foot with his own, one of his concentrating quirks. It took him awhile to allow me to touch him, but I don’t blame him a bit after what he went through. Progress is progress. Every time he lets me hug him, however briefly, my spirits soar.             My eyes drift over his figure, swallowed up by the sweatshirt. He’s so thin, so underdeveloped. We might be the same height, but he’s so scrawny I’m afraid the wind is going to pick him up and carry him away.             I set my jaw. I will not let that happen. I’m going to protect him.             “What are you thinking about, Pipes?”             “Hmm?”I look up over the rim of my mug and see Mark staring at me, eyebrows raised. His large brown eyes shine like a thousand stars in the firelight. Those eyes have seen too much at such a young age. He’s too young. He should be playing Fortnite and dating and studying for school, not aching from beatings and running from the law.             “I said, what are you thinking about?”             I set my mug down and draw my knees up to my chest. “Wondering why they put fireplaces in rooms that cost thirty bucks a night,” I laugh. “I mean, this whole joint could go ‘poof’ in a second if there were any of the unscrupulous types here.”             Mark squints at me. “Piper. We literally just stole a laptop and five hundred dollars.” He traces the outline of his mug. “Plus, we con people out of money by saying we’re siblings trying to get to California to escape from our abusive dad. We have fake I.D.s! We are the unscrupulous type!”             Okay, he’s got me there. “Well, part of that is true. We are going to California, and you are escaping your abusive dad.”             After a beat, he slurps his tea and asks me, “What happens when we get to California? What do we do there?”             A lot of ideas go through my head, but I dismiss them. “There are a couple of programs for at-risk youth for you, and some job trainings for me, but I don’t know,” I admit. “I just thought I would be hopping trains and pickpocketing for the rest of my life. Then I met you.” I nudge him with my foot. “And that’s no way for you to live. I can’t think about myself anymore, you’re here, and I have to think about your future and what’s best for you.”             “Pssh.” He blows air out of his mouth. “I already dropped out of school before I met you. Now I have a criminal record. We can worry about the future when it comes. For right now, let’s focus on scamming people and getting food.”             “And not dying in this sketchy motel.”             He smiles and puts his hand on top of mine. “Don’t worry about my future. I’m with you for whatever happens.”             It’s so touching that I almost cry. The silence is thick. His eyes are bright. My heart is full.             Then he sneezes and ruins the Hallmark moment.             “See!”I shout, pointing my finger. “You’re gonna get a cold! I told you!”             Mark slowly opens his eyes, looking high as hell. “I feel like I lost part of my soul in that sneeze,” he whispers.             I laugh. “Finish your tea, and then let’s get you to bed, tiger.”             “But this is disgusting!” he says, eyes clear. “I can’t finish this!”             “Take it like a shot,” I shrug. I get up, wiping my hands on my pants. “I gotta pee. Be finished when I get out.”             “But it’s hot!” he whines.             “Liquor burns worse. Drink up.”             When I get out of the bathroom, he is leaning against the kitchen sink, arms crossed and pouting. I swear sometimes it feels like I’m raising a four-year-old instead of a teenager.             “That was horrible,” he spits out, his face all screwed up.             “It’s for your own good. You’re welcome!”             “Stop being so peppy at my misery!”             “Sorry, kid.” I walk to him and ruffle his hair. “It’s better than you getting a cold. We can’t afford any accidents; people here are stingier than I thought.”             He wipes his nose. Just as I was about to comment on the price of laundry, too, he pulls me into a hug and nestles his face into my neck, squeezing my shoulders. I return it immediately. He rarely returns affection, much less initiates it, so something must be eating him. I pull back and gently touch the back of his head. “What’s wrong?”             A few tears fall down his cheeks, and he swats them away. “Nothing’s wrong, it’s just…everything is okay. For once.”             I tilt my head. “What?”             He clears his throat. “Look, you know I had a pretty shitty childhood. After Mom left Dad, everything just fell apart. I mean, I guess it did. I don’t remember her at all. But then he would just tell me all the time that I was worthless, I was a burden, he wished I had never been born, stuff like that.” I steady him against the counter as he starts to shake. “Then when I got older, he…” When he stops, my mind flashes to the scars on his back at the beach. “But right before I ran away, he told me that no one would ever love me.”             In that moment, my heart splits into a thousand pieces. He spills out everything he had kept locked inside for those seven months, finally ready to release.             “Oh, Mark.” I pull him to me, lightly massaging his shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”             His voice is thick and strained. “And I believed him,” he whispers, flexing his fingers into fists on my back. “I mean, I was one of thousands of runaway kids in New York. I did what I could to survive, but I honestly didn’t care if I died or not.” My hold on him tightens. I gently run a hand through his hair, not wanting to trigger his aversion. “But just when I really thought I would always be on my own, you found me, Piper.” He pulls back and looks at me in the face, his eyes red. “You took a chance on me and you took care of me. You gave me attention and food and love and a family. You showed me that I am worthy of love.” His trance breaks, and he snaps out of the mood. “Oh God, I’m crying. Why the hell am I crying?”             I choke out a laugh, now that I’m in tears too. “Let it out.”             Batting at his tears with the heels of his palms, he steals a glance at me. “I made you cry? Oh God, I made you cry. I’m sorry.”             “Hey!” I grab his hands away from his face. “It’s okay. Finish the story.”             “You’ve shown me that you care for me,” he continues. “I don’t know why, because I’m an asshole sometimes, but you still care about me.”             I take the moment to loop my arm around his neck, leading him to the bed. He only gets very emotional when he’s very tired, and in the state he’s in, he’ll pass out any minute. “Yeah, well, that’s true,” I say. “But you’re my asshole, and I’m not going to let something bad happen to you.”             We reach the bed. I look up and see his eyes nearly shut, and he starts to sway. “Come on, tiger, get some rest.” I pull back the sheets and help him in. Poor kid collapses immediately. I don’t blame him. We’ve had a rough few days.             As I walk away, I feel his hand latch on to mine. I turn and he smiles contentedly, so adorable and happy. I want him to stay that way. That’s my job.             “Piper?”             “Mhmm?”             His smile expands, and he looks like a little cherub. “Even though you’re not my mom, thanks for taking care of me. You’re a lot better than my old man.”             I lean down and brush his hair out of his face. “I care about you. You’re never a burden to me.”             “Goodnight…Pi…”             I gaze down at him as he drifts off. “Goodnight, tiger.”             Once I’m sure he’s asleep, I wash the mugs, put out the fire, and pull the envelope out of my pocket. We only made fifty bucks today, barely enough to cover the rent for the room and laundry tonight. We need to make more to get food, and then we’ll probably skip town. Southerners aren’t as hospitable as I thought.             While I think, I watch Mark’s shallow breathing. He is definitely going to get sick at the worst possible time. We can hardly afford medicine, much less a clinic visit. If he gets sick, there’s no way I’m letting him on the job with me. Even though the sibling act rakes in more cash, he needs to rest.             Oh, well. We’ll figure it out. We’ve weathered worse.             I put the money back and climb onto the couch, shivering as I try to relax. The fireplace would be really nice, but I’m not going to risk it burning out when I’m sleeping three feet away.             The cushions are lumpy, but I manage to doze off, only hearing the quiet pant of Mark’s snores. I guess I shouldn’t worry about him. Nothing’s worse than New Years in the Bronx, apparently. Besides, he’s a tough kid. I am too. And maybe, as long as we stay together, these two tough kids can turn out alright.

[arisefairsun]

As someone who's heard that Romeo + Juliet (dir. Baz Luhrmann) was the "most accurate to the screenplay, technically" but also that it wasn't as accurate as it could be, plus all the other pro/con arguments abt it that float around, I was hoping you could tell me why you dislike it? Thank you!

So, I decided to watch the movie again before answering your message (that’s mainly why I took so long to reply! I’m sorry) because the last time I watched it was like five years ago, and I actually loved it this time around? I’ve been fangirling the whole night.

I agree that Luhrmann did a fantastic job in ‘translating’ the society of Shakespeare’s Verona into the contemporary world. The misogyny, the cult of violence and masculinity—all these aspects were brilliantly shown by Luhrmann. Besides, the rhythm of the movie is marvelous. All the scenes are governed by this impulsive, erratic speed. It gives you no time to think; you get carried away by its rash haste. The crazy speed of the play is one of my favorite things because it’s like, a huge emotional rollercoaster.

Still, I’m uncomfortable with the way Luhrmann filmed Romeo and Juliet’s first conversation—Juliet literally has to step back to prevent Romeo’s mouth from touching hers right when he says, “have not saints lips and holy palmers too?”. It looks so self-assertive, it makes me cringe. They’re literally creating a sonnet together, it should be beautiful and not creepy. And then there’s this new scene where we see Romeo arrive at Juliet’s bedroom on their wedding night, which I think is nonsense. I talked about it here.

Another part that I found disappointing was the portrayal of Romeo’s despair when he receives the news of his banishment in the friar’s cell. He should be “on the ground, with his own tears made drunk”, “taking the measure of an unmade grave.” He is so desperate and anxious that he even attempts to kill himself just to destroy his Montague self. However, Leo is too serene. I can’t help comparing his acting with Leonard Whiting’s portrayal, who was cut out most of the lines in this scene but who managed to accurately show Romeo’s anxiety nonetheless. Another thing I’m not sure I like entirely is the “balcony” scene. In the original play, Juliet is locked inside her window and therefore they cannot touch, let alone make out in a pool. I find it very significant that they don’t even touch in the longest, probably deepest conversation they have, but I felt like Luhrmann over-sexualized the scene unnecessarily. And then, as usual, they didn’t make Tybalt come back after Mercutio’s death. It’s quite an important little detail—both the fact that Tybalt came back to Romeo and that Romeo only suggested revenge after Tybalt’s return. (Tybalt would never run away from a fight? He is too arrogant to do so.)

The death scene is most likely what I dislike the most, though. To begin with, I think the scenery, pretty though it is, isn’t really appropriate—it should be dark, scary, the way a “nest of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep” should be, only lightened by Juliet’s beauty and not by pretty candles all around (“Her beauty makes / This vault a feasting presence full of light”). The place should correspond to Juliet’s fears:

Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?Or, if I live, is it not very like,The horrible conceit of death and night,Together with the terror of the place—As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,Where, for these many hundred years, the bonesOf all my buried ancestors are packed:Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,At some hours in the night spirits resort—Alack, alack, is it not like that I,So early waking, what with loathsome smells,And shrieks like mandrakes’ torn out of the earth,That living mortals, hearing them, run mad.

It should be that terrifying. And, most importantly, it should specifically be Capulet’s crypt rather than some random church. Basically because by poisoning himself in the vault of his wife’s family, Romeo is destroying the patriarchal system (as well as reinforcing again his rejection of his own surname and the whole feud; he chooses to “set up” his “everlasting rest” in Capulet’s tomb rather than in that of Montague).

I find it very symbolic that they both die alone, surrounded by Tybalt’s and Paris’ corpses—the two men who thwarted their love the most—; I actually think it’s very significant to make them die separately. It reinforces the repressive isolation that they both experimented throughout the play. If you think about it, we not only witness the evolution of their love but also their evolution as individuals. We get to see how their relationship alters their social identities (i.e. Romeo’s willingness to love Tybalt, Juliet’s sexual liberty, etc.), and when their society rejects these new identities, they tragically decide to commit suicide. (More on this here.) I think they not only kill themselves for each other, but also for themselves, and this is something that’s highlighted by the fact that they die alone.

Besides, having Juliet wake before Romeo’s death kind of blurs the Liebestod trope—that is, death is not truly dividing them, but finally bringing them together. They kill themselves because they cannot be together in life, ergo Romeo promises he “will still stay with thee” because death will turn him into Juliet’s husband again. (There are actually lots of references to wedding rituals in this scene.) So when he says “thus with a kiss I die” (“die” meaning both to lose your life and to have an orgasm) he is not really saying farewell. He is kissing her right before dying to “seal with a righteous kiss / A dateless bargain to engrossing death”. However, in the Luhrmann version, Romeo dies thinking that death will separate him from Juliet, and so his last kiss is not a “dateless bargain” but a goodbye. (Overall his death lacks something if Juliet wakes in time. This awesome lesbian version also made Romeo die after Juliet’s awakening, but neither Luhrmann nor the lesbian production dared add new lines and he just stays speechless until he dies and I find it very weak? If Romeo saw Juliet live again, he would surely say something. If Shakespeare had wanted Juliet to wake before his death, he would have written it like that, but he didn’t. I feel like Luhrmann is changing the meaning of the scene just to increase the dramatic effects of it.)

I also think it’s highly important to make Friar Lawrence enter the scene between Romeo’s and Juliet’s deaths—he gives Juliet a very suitable option in terms of religion:

Come, I’ll dispose of theeAmong a sisterhood of holy nuns:Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.

Juliet is breaking the rules again by refusing to hide at a convent and spend the rest of her life devoting herself to God and mourning her dead husband. She prefers to commit suicide. But what’s even more irritating about Luhrmann’s version is that Juliet doesn’t say a word after Romeo’s death, which weakens the character a lot. Their conversation ends with Romeo’s “thus with a kiss I die”. It’s a pity, because her last words are really potent, especially considering that daggers were seen as a masculine form of suicide (whereas poison was often attributed to women. My kids love burning down gender roles): “O happy dagger! This is thy sheath: / There rust and let me die” (with another pun on “to have an orgasm”). By introducing Romeo’s dagger into herself she’s again claiming her right to be sexually active. This metaphor is weakened by making her use a gun instead (AND BY CUTTING OUT HER DEATH SPEECH LIKE!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!).

Another thing that I wish were included in the movie is Capulet and Montague’s reconciliation. I find it vital for the message that the play wants to transmit. After all the violence, the prejudice, the social oppression, Romeo and Juliet’s death puts an end to the war between both households (I say households and not families). The patriarchs admit the wrong they did, and it’s just so satisfying to hear them apologize. I think this is kind of the whole purpose of the play—I would dare say this last conversation is the reason the whole story was told in the first place. The prologue focuses on the households’ violence, and it actually mentions Romeo and Juliet to express that their death ceased the violence:

Two households, both alike in dignity,In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.From forth the fatal loins of these two foesA pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,Whose misadventured piteous overthrowsDoth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

However, in Luhrmann’s version, Capulet and Montague only stand side by side without saying a word while the Prince reprehends them, leaving up in the air whether or not they will take their children’s advice and replace hate with love.

But apart from that, I actually did enjoy it!

[scraplette]

Details

Rating: General Audiences

Ao3 Linkage

Archive Warning: Mentions of canon typical violence but nothing graphic.  

Characters: Ratchet, First Aid

Summary: In the aftermath of the Red rust virus, ratchet asks a favour of First Aid. However, before anything can be done a few details need to be discussed.

Notes: I think enough time has passed for me to post my story featured in @projecttfzine. It was such am honour to be included in this book featuring so many talented artists and authors, and all for an excellent cause.

Whether or not you believed in Primus or the idea of intelligent design, there was no denying that Ratchet's hands were a work of art. Trained at the prestigious Iaconian Academy of Science and Technology, he'd gone on to hone those skills on and off the battlefield for untold millennia, earning the distinction and honour of being the only medic to save the lives of multiple Primes, whether they deserved it or not.

Medics, Autobot and Decepticon alike, traded whispered tales about Ratchet and his fabled hands. And while not all of them were true each and every story was told with equal amounts awe and respect, and often with a generous dose of fear.

Which was why First Aid couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You want your hands removed?”

Ratchet, as if he'd been expecting this reaction, sighed. “I know I'm practically falling apart but my vocoder is still in good nick.”

First Aid's visor flickered wildly as his mind raced for something to say. Unfortunately all he could manage was a spluttered, and thoroughly uninspired “But they're you hands!”

“Indeed they are. So, I think I get a pretty big say in what happens to them.”

“There are treatments we can try-”

“Don't.” First Aid flinched. “Neither of us are idiots. And neither was Pharma. Say what you want about him but I can't deny he made himself quite an effective virus...”

If First Aid was intimidated at all by Ratchet's heated scowl then he wasn't showing it. He stepped up beside the medical slab and took a gentle hold of one of Ratchet's ruined hands. Despite his earlier mention of possible treatments he knew, deep down, that Ratchet's hands were beyond saving.

The once vibrant plating was now a faded grey, criss-crossed by jagged cracks. He stroked his thumb oh so carefully over the back of Ratchet's palm but even that gentle movement caused flecks of rust and faded paint to peel and flake, and fall silently onto the medical slab. It was almost enough to make First Aid weep.

Not trusting his own twitching grip, First Aid lowered the hand back to the slab. “If we'd only gotten the vaccine sooner.”

Ratchet snorted and First Aid looked up to catch the briefest flash of a bitter smile. “Please, my hands were already on their way out. Pharma's bug merely sped things up.” he pulled he hands into his lap, resting them across the tops of his thighs.

Something seemed off. First Aid had been a doctor for many years. From general practice right through to battlefield medic, he had the unfortunate duty of breaking bad news to a great many patients. Everyone reacted differently. Some raged against the prognosis. Others pleaded, hoping for some sort of mistake or clerical error. Then there were those who accepted the news with nary a reaction, as if their spark had already extinguished, leaving nothing more than fumes to propel their failing frame.

But Ratchet was reacting with his usual gruff and snark. No raging, pleading or terrible silence.

First Aid's visor narrowed as he fixed the CMO with a searching gaze.“I must admit,” he began, easing into conversation with as much tact as possible. “I'm surprised at how well you're taking this.

“Well, I've always been a bit of a pragmatist. Looking forward and all that. Plus, it won't really be an issue once you replace these useless lumps for Pharma's.” First Aid didn't react but the sudden tension in his frame was hard to miss. The older medic huffed. “Oh, don't give me that look. It's not like he'll be needing them any more,” he tried to cross his arms across his chest but gave up when his hands awkwardly bumped against each other, settling instead for resting them in his lap again.

“Tha- That's not the point!”

“It's not?

First Aid blinked. “Okay, in a way it is. But a procedure like that requires two medics.” he paused, waiting- hoping - for a reaction from Ratchet. None came. “I'm just a nurse...” he admitted, suddenly unable to face the other bot.

Obsessive compulsive tendencies. The words still stung even when voiced in the privacy of his own thoughts. First Aid knew the reasons for his odd behaviour- and would take that secret with him to the Allspark - but he couldn't blame Rung for his final diagnosis or the resulting demotion. He'd been so quick to accept Springer's mission. But while he had the skills necessary to check the damaged Autobrands, he'd lacked the subtlety needed to carry out such a task unnoticed. No, First Aid had no one but himself and his own starstruck eagerness to thank for that.  

A gentle nudge against his forearm pulled First Aid back to the present. “I head about your demotion,” the older bot said with surprising gentleness. “As Autobot CMO I think I can probably do something about that...” he let the promise hang tantalisingly but First Aid was hesitant to reach for it just yet.

First Aid went still, again. “Why me?”

Ratchet shrugged. “I got my reasons.”

Goodness, that didn't sound ominous at all. “Do I get to hear these reasons?” He raised an optic ridge.

“Maybe later,” Ratchet said, putting a stop to any protest First Aid might have had with a single look. “Right now, you and I need to go over some details.”

First Aid frowned. “We do? It's a fairly simple procedure.” So simple in fact, that First Aid was certain he could do the operation with his hands fused together. Next to basic maintenance and minor Nucleon poisoning, it was the most common injury type that the Delphi facility dealt with.

Ratchet nodded, obviously agreeing with him. “True, but you worked closely with Pharma for a number of years. Before we do anything I need to know you're comfortable with this.”

Although said with that same gentleness from earlier, First Aid still visibly flinched at Ratchet's words.

Was he okay with this? Limb recycling was a common practice but it was usually done with the patient's prior consent. Something Pharma doubtfully had time to give as he'd plummeted to his apparent death. If nothing had happened. If Pharma's deal with the DJD, and the Virus had been nothing more than a nightmare then yes, First Aid would've had some doubts about this procedure. But it had happened. Pharma, through an act of sheer desperation, had doomed them all. Killing his patients and then, in a final act of cruelty, mutilating their cooling frames for their Tcogs, all so a sociopathic monster could get his latest fix. It made his inner most energon boil knowing that someone he'd once respected and admired had let him down so spectacularly.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. “I... Ratchet. May I speak frankly for a moment?”

There was a short moment of silence. First Aid wondered if he'd someone offended the other medic and was about to apologise when Ratchet finally responded. “I'd prefer it. Go on.”

Although he'd been permitted to speak First Aid had to push down the sudden rush of anxiety that filled his spark.  If it weren't for Ratchet, and the other members of this Lost Light crew, things would've gone a lot differently. No ifs or buts. Everyone would be dead, with only his encrypted patient data floating about the subspace network as a vague clue to the truth.

The last possible thing he wanted to do was offend Ratchet. He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I mean... I might have worked with Pharma but you...” Dammit! Just say it! “You were his friend. I think? He used to talk about you. A lot, actually.”

Ratchet was famous for his sharp wit and just as deadly temper. So First Aid braced himself for a cutting rebuttal. Instead, he heard a sound so rare that many doubted it even existed. Ratchet laughed. “Ha! Did he now? How many of those times started with the phrase 'I'm a better medic than Ratchet and here's why'” his voice took on an haughty edge in a near-perfect impression of Pharma's former speech patterns.  

“Not all of them...” First Aid said, meekly.

“Yeah. I thought as much.” Ratchet smiled but it didn't quite reach his optics, which had dimmed to a dark blue.

Again, he wondered how Ratchet could remain so calm when faced with such a personal betrayal. “I'm sorry, sir.” he apologised.

“Don't be. I appreciate your honestly. It's something we're in short supply of these days.” Ratchet sank into the medical-grade padding with a deep sigh. “My hands are failing. And while it doesn't change what he did, Pharma was a great doctor. It seems a shame to waste a perfectly good pair of hands, especially if I can do some good with them.” There was a tightness to his expression as he frowned. “Something good needs to come from this...”

First Aid, not trusting himself to speak, could only nod in silent agreement.

The sombre silence was broken by an abrupt snap and then a plink as something hit the floor. Looking down, First Aid vents stalled. “Is that...?”

“Yes, that is my index finger.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe we should push forward that surgery time. Hm?”

“Ah, yes. I think that's a good idea.”

[athena1138]

DA Question Meme

Literally nobody asked for this but I don’t wanna do my homework so HERRRRRE WE GO! edit: doing this made me realize just how attached I am to the same 4 names lmfao. #creativity i guess. 

01) Favorite game of the series?

I like a lot of things about all of them. I like the companion interactions from Origins, the story from DA2, and the character creation and map of Inquisition. But they all have things I don’t like, too, so I’m not really sure I have a favorite. I think DA2 and Inquisition are tied, tbh.

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

My roommate had been (trying) to play Origins for a while so my interest was piqued. Then, I was sitting in my Spanish class and realized PSN was having a hella sale so I went looking for some games. Inquisition GOTYE was on sale for like $70 with all the DLCs so I was like, “Hm. Yeah. Aight.” I then proceeded to get 89 hours banked in the course of like...5 days. It was insane. There was much coffee and little sleep. (I said trying because her Xbox 360, both of them, absolutely refuse to let her finish it before the console corrupts something in the data.)

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

Origins 1 1/2 times. I got all the way to the end with my elf before Alistair broke up with me to be king so I said, “AW HELL NAH” and literally started over just so my Warden could be queen. 

DA2, 2 full times and I’m on my 3rd for “fanfiction research” purposes. 

Inquisition, once all the way through the main storyline, started again, then started again. 

04) Favorite race to play as?

Ya girl loves her some elves. I was a Dwarf as my first ever character, but the lack of romance options in Inquisition turned me off to them. I do like them a lot, though. 

05) Favorite class?

Rogue. Seriously, lockpicking should be a universal thing. Otherwise, mage. 

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

I try. Most of the more personal decisions I have a hard time changing. Like, should Cole be human or more spirit-y? I can’t. I always make him human. But I intentionally try to change major story arcs. Both my Hawke mages and my mage Inquisitor have supported the Templars where I supported mages 100% before. 

07) Go-to adventuring group?

Origins:  Alistair is almost always a must. My first playthrough, he literally went on 100% of my quests with me. Then usually Wynne and Zevran, but I try to switch it up where I think I can spare having a healing mage. Shale and Oghren are my buds. 

DA2:  Vikara Hawke--Fenris, Anders (li,) then either Varric or Isabela. Belladonna Hawke--Fenris, Carver then Avaline, Varric (hc li.) Titania Hawke--Fenris, Bethany then Merrill, Isabela (li.)

Inquisition: Oh boy. I just. I just love them all. Just so fucking much. Picking my group is painstaking, man. Gemma Cadash--Iron Bull (li,) Dorian, Cole. Vikara Lavellan is tricky because she’s a mage, but Dorian is my literal best friend and she romanced Solas so?--Solas (li,) Dorian, Iron Bull or Blackwall. If it’s a tricky area or I need a lock picked, I’ll usually switch Dorian with Cole. Vanaya Adaar--Blackwall, Dorian, Vivienne or Sera. (Josephine LI)

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

So, I had no fucking idea what Inquisition was about. You can go find my “first playthrough” posts for proof, so I was just going with the flow. But starting completely from the start, I think I put a bit more effort into my Wardens, and most definitely my Hawkes and now my new Inquisitors. 

09) Favorite romance?

Cullen. #1, always. Honestly. I know, basic, but you know what? He’s a goddamn tormented cinnamon roll. I also really love his v.a.. Like I’ll listen to the romance while doing homework to keep me focused. Is that creepy? Shit. That’s creepy. But in Origins, idk. Alistair is adorable, but Zevran is just...damn. I want to try Leliana’s romance sometime. Da2: Fenris, but I’m just so goddamn in love with Varric, man. I know it’s not a romance but IT FUCKING SHOULD BE. 

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

Bruh I don’t even read my homework.

11) If you read them, which was your favorite book?

12) Favorite DLCs?

For, like, functionality? The Black Emporium lmao. I like to change my appearance as the game progresses. But for fun? I like the Deep Roads DLC for Inquisition, the Legacy DLC for DA2, and tbh I haven’t played many DLCs for Origins yet, just the one for Shale and the one for Morigann. I think I’ll like Leliana’s, though, and Awakening. 

13) Things that annoy you.

Can’t change companion armor in DA2

No voice for Origins. (I understand it, but starting from Inquisition, it’s frustrating. Plus, I’m blind, and the biggest subtitles are still hella small.)

You can’t just go strike up a conversation with companions in the field aside from Origins. 

Dwarves can’t be mages

THERE ARE NO DWARF ROMANCES

The Qunari just felt really..underwhelming til Inquisition? Like. Sten is just a large, stoic human essentially. All the Qunari in DA2 have the exact same face, and nothing about their titles or names are explained. They’re a giantass plot point and you’re telling me not even the Arishok could get some different horns or maybe a face lift or something? 

When your companions break up with you. Like goddamn. Rude. 

The Dark Ritual. 

Forcing Alistair to be King so I don’t have to choose between him or my Hawke. He’s so unhappy as a ruler, but it’s better for his safety. Such a dick move, guys, really. 

Leandra just straight up forgives Gamlen for blowing the entire fortune? Nah, Ma. He’s dead to us now. 

Carver’s such a dick, man. 

Caves,caves,caves,caves,caves in DA2. Like goddamn. 

I have soooo many more but I have to get up in 4 hours lmao

The dog in Origins counts as a companion

Even if Hawke is a mage, Fenris doesn’t cool it with his anti-mage shit. Ever. 

Anders is a dick, man. A beautiful one, but a dick. 

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Kirkwall.

15) Templars or mages?

Mages, always. Supporting the Templars makes me so frustrated with myself. 

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

So, cross-games, they’re in the same universe. But as for, like, all my Inquisitors? Idk. I’ve never really thought about it. I don’t HC that I have like...6 Inquisitors or even sibling Inky’s running around, but I don’t see a reason why they wouldn’t keep existing just because one of them got the Mark. I do try super hard to connect all my main characters as closely as I can, just for funsies. 

Like, my new Lavellan was from the same alienage as my Warden except she got swept up in that slave-trade business at the age of like 10. Then she lived as a slave in Kirkwall til she ran away at 15 and was taken in by Merrill’s clan. She and an older hunter were out hunting when the massacre happened, so he ends up taking her up north to meet up with another clan he knows is fartin’ around there. (Lavellan.) So, she remembers Varric and Hawke from their few trips to visit Merrill’s clan on Sundermount. 

Shit like that, y’know? 

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Random things, usually. My current Hawke’s mabari is called Wrex, last one was Oberyn. I don’t remember any of my Wardens’ mabari names.

18) Have you installed any mods?

I fucking wish I could. Console only over here my dude. 

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Vikara Tabris--No, absolutely not. She just wanted to stay in her alienage and take care of her family. She didn’t want to get married, and when the noble dude kidnapped them all she just straight up wrecked them, so she didn’t have a choice. She’s pretty bitter about it all, but Alistair makes it better. 

Titania Cousland--Hells. Yes. From the moment she heard Duncan was coming, she was like a fucking dog with a bone begging that her dad let her join. 

20) Hawke’s personality?

Vikara Hawke:  Kind, peaceful. Blue? I think? The colors represent the dialogue wheel, right? Idk, man, the nice shit. 

Belladonna Hawke:  Sarcastic af. 

Titania Hawke: Agro to others but not her friends. 

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

Look, fam, there are only SO MANY GODDAMN PIECES OF LIGHT ARMOR AVAILABLE. AT SOME POINT, WE ALL FINNA LOOK ALIKE IT’S NOT MY FAULT so like yeah

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

oh jesus

ORIGINS-        Vikara Tabris--so much, man. The most important thing? I think she would’ve put Anora on the throne instead.         Titania Cousland--She would’ve tried to use her connection to the king to make him see reason, make him see that the war was suicide. 

DA2        Vikara Hawke--She would’ve tried to sway Anders away from the terrorist side of things more, had she not been too blinded by love to see what he was doing.          Belladonna Hawke--Would’ve rather taken Bethany’s place with the ogre because she can’t live with the guilt.           Titania Hawke--Corypheus. If she’d have just paid fucking attention, she might’ve noticed how weird Larius was acting, she might’ve been able to do something before the literal sky opened up. 

Inquisition          Gemma Cadash--She straight up wishes she was never at the fucking Conclave. If she’d have just stayed in the Carta, doing what she’s good at, this all would’ve been someone else’s problem. She has a hard time dealing with all the pressure and the stress and constantly fears she’s doing the wrong thing. The only thing that gets her through it is Bull.           Vikara Lavellan--Loving Solas. She wishes she’d seen the signs more clearly, seen where they were going with it. But, loving Solas lead her to Cullen, so in the end? She guesses it was worth it.            Vanaya Adaar--She would’ve tried harder at Haven, to save more lives than she did. If she’d have just been a little faster... 

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

For my Inquisitors, usually something will be anti-canon, but my Hawkes are usually pretty satisfying to me, and the Warden has enough options I think it’s alright. But like...Vikara Lavellan has almost no faith to the Dalish despite being one. She got her vallaslin because she had to to stay in clan Lavellan. I also sometimes HC that she spent time in the Circle so when Vivienne gets all snotty about it not being so bad, she can be like “uhm, scuse you.” Same with Hawke and Anders, but Idk how it would work. Maybe she was there during his solitary confinement but broke out with her phylactery and that’s when her family moved to Lothering? Oh. Shit. Yeah. That works. Hey, new headcanon! 

24) Who did you leave in the Fade?

First, Hawke, because I hadn’t played DA2 yet, but then I saw how hurt Varric was and I died inside. So, Stroud usually. 

25) Favorite mount?

Cadash--the Avaar War Nug Lavellan--Tirashan Swiftwind Adaar--Hunter Shade Dracolisk

[omniversalobservations]

“The Rise of Mash-Up Cinema”

In the opening minutes of Ralph Breaks the Internet, John C. Reilly’s Ralph and Sarah Silverman’s Vanellope Von Schweetz — stars of the film’s 2012 predecessor, Wreck-It Ralph — sit in a sort of Grand Central Terminal for video-game characters and play a round of “I Spy.” “I spy with my little eye, something that is round, yellow, and eats dots,” one of them says to the other. That something is, of course, Pac-Man. There’s a bit of banter about that fact, all of it only funny if you know who Pac-Man is. The bit is predicated on you being at least a little excited by the existence of Pac-Man in this movie, which is not a movie about Pac-Man. He’s making a special guest appearance, one brand hopping into another. That intended frisson of recognition, of wonder that a thing could cross over with another thing, is the foundation upon which the Wreck-It Ralph franchise is built.

As of 2012, such crossovers were a rarity. When critics praised the first film, they took note of how potent the idea was. “It’s impossible not to feel a strong sense of nostalgic amusement, if not sheer delight, at the comings and goings of all these characters,” said The Globe and Mail’s Dave McGinn in a characteristic write-up. “I don’t own an MRI machine, but I guarantee that just seeing Sonic the Hedgehog lights up the Gen X amygdala like a house on fire.” Not just Gen X, either: those younger could marvel at the presence of the host of Dance Dance Revolution, those older could giggle when the paddles and ball from Pong popped up. Street Fighter’s Zangief and Chun-Li waved hello, Q*Bert played a memorable role, and so on. It was a shock-and-awe tactic: viewers were supposed to sit back and wonder, How is any of this legal?

The answer is: it’s legal because, really, what corporation wouldn’t want to have its intellectual property appear in a cheery Disney cartoon that’ll be in front of the eyeballs of millions of consumers? All the House of Mouse had to do was ask, pay the licensing fees, and put the characters into situations deemed appropriate by the copyright holders. Everybody wins. The idea makes so much sense that it’s becoming increasingly commonplace. Indeed, it’s not unreasonable to expect that branded mash-ups are on their way to becoming a staple aspect of blockbuster cinema. It’s not necessarily a cheery thought.

The past 17 months will have seen the release of no fewer than four movies that fall into this basket. First came The Emoji Movie, a saga in which anthropomorphized pictograms ventured through an array of popular apps inside a teen’s phone. Then there was Ready Player One, the most infamous of these offenders, derided for relying on the weaponized nostalgia of an array of cultural artifacts from the 1980s and beyond. Disney’s Avengers: Infinity War brought together virtually every strand of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, including Spider-Man, a character Disney doesn’t own the film rights to but borrows from Sony. These were all hits of one size or another. The market is speaking.

It’s hard to imagine Ralph Breaks the Internet breaking that streak. It’s a decently written kids’ movie with a constant stream of amusing gags and comforting character beats. It offers up the kind of clean whiz-bang CGI visuals that we’ve come to expect in a post-Pixar animation environment. The voice acting is often delightful. But these factors, on their own, can only take the flick so far. What its creators clearly believe is that viewers will be over the moon at the melange of familiar brands that agreed to throw their lot in with Ralph and Vanellope.

There are appearances from game characters, but the real action this time around is in the tech sector. Thanks to a newly installed modem at the arcade in which they dwell, Ralph and Vanellope leave their respective games and embark on a quest inside the internet. The film’s visualization of the world wide web is a gleaming hyper-metropolis of flying vehicles and impossible skyscrapers, something between Tokyo and Coruscant. As our protagonists venture through it, they find all the behemoth brands made manifest: here’s the endless warehouse of Amazon, there’s a tower that Pinterest calls home, watch out that you don’t crash into the Fandango building — and why not make a little pit stop at Snapchat HQ?

“This is the most beautiful miracle I’ve ever seen,” Vanellope declares upon entering the internet, and we are given no reason to disagree. This is the digital utopia that tech CEOs verbally conjure when they attempt to sell us on their agendas, a marketplace of dollars and ideas where everyone’s free to satisfy their desires and escape the disappointments and inefficiencies of fleshy existence. Sure, there’s a brief excursion to the darknet, where viruses and scams lurk, but no brands appear there, and it’s presented as a marginal portion of the landscape. This is not the Internet as it truly is — Ralph encounters no racist Facebook memes, Vanellope never accidentally wanders into Pornhub — but rather as it is sold to us.

The brands are not strictly bits of set-dressing, either. The instigating conceit of the plot is that Vanellope’s arcade game breaks and, in order to save it from being decommissioned, she and Ralph attempt to purchase a replacement part via eBay. The filmmakers could have chosen a generic stand-in auction site, but going with eBay is a win-win for creators and licensors, alike. In this vision of the company’s service, fast-talking, old-timey auctioneers bark at the avatars of potential buyers in a bustling, capacious work space. Ralph and Vanellope don’t have sufficient funds to pay for the part and have to find the cash within a set time period, during which they’re periodically hit with automated reminders that take the anthropomorphized form of a plucky little bellboy (Ralph calls him eBoy). The soullessness of an online transaction is thus replaced by charmingly anachronistic human faces seeking to engage you as a human being. One can imagine an eBay boardroom erupting in delight at an early screening. There would be nothing for them to complain about.

The same goes for all of these excursions into cinematic corporate symbiosis. The Emoji Movie is a curdled yogurt of perfunctory storytelling and Bible-page-thin characterization, but it sure is nice to its beloved mobile apps. The heroic emojis ride a boat through the “music streams” of Spotify, dance their little yellow butts off in Just Dance, and satisfy their sweet teeth over at Candy Crush — and I’ll be forever haunted by my colleague Emily Yoshida’s description of hearing a child at a screening delightedly bellow, “It’s Instagram!” upon the appearance of the beloved photo app. Ready Player One was a binder stuffed near to bursting with pop-culture love letters: the leads hung out in the world of The Shining, drove around in a Back to the Future DeLorean, and fought a grand video game battle royale alongside the Iron Giant, Voltron, and Spawn, all of which accounts for maybe 1/1000th of all the references in the film. Infinity War was easiest to pull off from a licensing perspective, given that Disney owns the film rights to all the non-Spidey Marvel characters therein, and it is what all of these movies aspire to be: a billion-dollar picture that milks every bit of excitement that can come from having its various pieces of IP hang out together.

It’s long been obvious that studios are trying to ape the Marvel model by building their own cinematic universes in which various characters are established in their own movies and then thrown together for crossover appearances. But crucially, no one has succeeded in their imitation attempts. The DC Extended Universe is moving away from interlinked stories, the Valiant universe is years behind schedule, and only the maddest of scientists would say Universal’s monster-filled Dark Universe has a promising future. All of that leaves the higher-ups with a conundrum: how can you synthesize Marvel’s crossover thrills without going through the trouble of building a shared universe that people give a rat’s ass about?

Brand-synergy movies offer an alternative that’s expensive in dollars but cheap in creative effort. If you can’t build out a pantheon of characters that you convince an audience to become familiar with, why not just rent a bunch of properties they’re already familiar with, duct-tape them together, hoist them aloft before the camera, and declare that movie magic has been made? That way, the viewer gets to feel the thrill of seeing people, places, and things that come from different worlds coexist for a moment in time, but you don’t have to put in the work of establishing these properties.

It’s the next level up from mere cinematic adaptation. We no longer feel any particular elation when it’s announced that someone is making a filmed version of our favorite brand — that’s become de rigueur in the nostalgia economy. If you want to feel that old excitement, now you have to see your favorite brand be adapted in conjunction with another one of your favorite brands, and another, and another, until you have a filmic turducken of corporate interests. The ante has been upped, and as long as the big players in Hollywood can play nice with corporate partners, it will only elevate further.

This trend doesn’t have to be a death knell for creativity in blockbuster cinema. A turducken can be baked and seasoned well by the right cooks. The ne plus ultra of this phenomenon actually predates our present trend by 25 years: Robert Zemeckis’s 1988 Disney flick Who Framed Roger Rabbit? In preparation for Ralph Breaks the Internet, I rewatched Roger Rabbit for the first time since childhood and was amazed by how well it holds up. Sure, it gets its fair share of kicks out of constructing a world inhabited by classic Disney animated characters, their Looney Tunes competition, and a cavalcade of other cartoon stars. But their appearances in this surprisingly daring neo-noir are sparing and clever: Daffy and Donald Duck in an increasingly violent dueling-pianos competition, a black-and-white Betty Boop struggling to prove she’s still got it it in the world of color cartoons, a headline reading, “GOOFY CLEARED OF SPY CHARGES,” and the like.

Roger Rabbit uses these cameos as building blocks for story and world-building, not mere showing-off. Okay, there’s a little bit of showing-off — I mean, how cool is it that Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse signed a truce long enough to appear together for a gag in the third act? — but for the most part, these characters are present to help critique show business. The toons, disrespected by humans and isolated in Toontown, are stand-ins for marginalized groups (particularly black people) whose labor has fueled the entertainment economy while being exploited by greedy white people who exclude them from the highest echelons of the industry. When we see Dumbo literally working for peanuts, it’s not just a joke about elephants’ preferred diet, but also a way to make our hearts break at the injustice of one of our most beloved figures being nickel-and-dimed by a crass studio chief. There’s just so much good storytelling and acting — not to mention still-impressive integration of 2-D animation and live action — that you can’t help but get caught up in the ride. These things can be done well.

But it seems all too likely that they will be done poorly. One struggles to imagine brands being okay with Roger Rabbit–level subversion these days. It’ll all be focus-group-approved portrayals that advance the joint agendas of the creators and the companies, alike. The temptation to take a dull plot and spice it up with branded guest appearances is simply too strong. Such a process can create an illusion of familiarity and comfort that masks mediocre workmanship, and lord knows Hollywood will take any chance to spray a new perfume on a turd. To paraphrase Orwell: If you want a vision of the future, imagine Luke Skywalker and Jean-Luc Picard fighting Voldemort — forever.

Source: Vulture

(images via YouTube)

[crazyw3irdo]

here’s my ocs (1/?) Izzy

Backstory (pre-war)- Izzy was cursed by her mother to always be nine years old as her previous child (Izzy’s sister, also named Isabelle) died at that age. (Hence why Izzy goes by Izzy instead of Isabelle) She finally ran away when she was around twenty, and met up with a man called John. They stayed together for about 3-4 months before John eventually revealed himself to be a serial killer and stabbed Izzy, soon fleeing. Unfortunately for John, Izzy was a witch, a young witch, but a witch nonetheless. A dagger to the ribs wouldn’t kill her, just cause her a lot of pain. Fortunately for John she was too crumpled in pain to get revenge just yet, so John lived, and this was the true first wake-up call to Izzy that as she was immortal, she would likely endure this pain time and again. Eventually she and met up with Brandon and Jemima and formed a bond in the solace that they were all immortal and also they were all from France. A few years later Lycan joined their group. Izzy, ever unoriginal, was the one to dub him ‘Lycan’ as he couldn’t remember his name. Skip forward a few thousand years and the gang is still together, plus Jemima’s girlfriend Rachel, who would later be Brandon’s girlfriend.

Backstory (during war)- Izzy served immediately. She was one of the most fierce fighters but retired soon as she became more and more nihilistic. The war is perhaps what shaped her personality so much despite it only lasting for around 20 years and her being around for a much longer time.

Personality- Izzy is apathetic and prefers silence, hoping to get their mission over with as soon as they can so that they can go back to solve “real issues” and relax. She is, however, incredibly loyal and protective and if her “siblings” (Brandon and Jemima) want to do something she’ll probably do whatever it takes to make sure they enjoy it to the fullest. Despite her apathy, she tends to make her emotions clear, instead of suffering in silence, but she still tends not to show her emotions physically.

Appearance*- Izzy has long brown hair tied up in a ponytail with a lime green hair tie. Her bangs are long and are parted to the left almost, but not quite, covering her eye. She has jade eyes, thin eyebrows, and a scar that crosses the bridge of her nose. She has a desaturated red handkerchief tied around her neck. She wears a dark green hoodie with pockets that store her wand and dagger. She also has slightly baggy blue jeans that she tucks into her brown knee-high work boots. She’s pretty skinny, weighing about 60 pounds and being about 4′ tall (48 cm)

Abilities: Her wand can extend into a broom that she can ride on, however she can’t use magic while it’s in this form. She can use magic, but not when she is in serious pain or in a small area. She can brew potions, but since they “take too long” and require such specifications, she doesn’t tend to make them often. She can mend broken objects, fire beams that can hurt, kill, burn, knock out, remove memories from, immobilize, heal, and teleport. Her powers grow stronger when she uses her emotions with them, but they become much harder to control.

Relationships with other OCs in the story;

Brandon**: She sees him as an older brother. She thinks of him as a dork and if you hurt him, she will definitely try to kill you. Also she prefers him and Rachel together more so than when Jemima and Rachel were together.

Jemima: She sees her as an older sister. She also typically disagrees with her commonly as Izzy is a ‘nothing matters so why bother’ kind of person whereas Jemima is a ‘nothing matters so lets party’ kind of person.

Lycan: Izzy likes (like like) him and acts like a tsundere around him. The main reason she isn’t as open about it is the fact that their physical bodies are vastly different ages despite the fact she is actually older than him and at this point it’s be hard to actually find someone close to her age.

Ash***: She finds him aesthetically pleasing and secretly was the person to give him his flower crown. (She uses her magic to keep the flowers constantly alive) Sometimes she uses her magic to see his wings but never tells anyone. She doesn’t really talk to Ash much.

Whisp: She doesn’t like Whisp at all, and sometimes she wonders why he survived instead of someone else, but she reminds herself to be grateful another person survived, no matter how sleazy she thinks he is. She also wonders what Ash sees in Whisp, but since Ash likes him, she doesn’t insult him. Often.

Rachel: She finds Rachel just a little too girly but doesn’t judge her too harshly for that. She sees her almost like a mother figure and likes her values of kindness and loyalty, except when she tries to make her more kind.

Snow: Izzy sees her as a little naive girl who is too emotional, but still respects her for not being turned cynical by the war that she was born into. She feels a bond with her as they were both attacked by the same serial killer. (Sometimes she calls her her ‘Blood Sister’ har har)

John: She is obsessed with killing him as he has hurt both her and Snow. She wants to avenge everyone he’s ever killed or tried to kill, calling his acts “weak” and “too easy” as he primarily targets young children.

Bolt: Izzy almost forgets her hatred for John when Bolt shows up. She calls him “a human form of Zeus.” Her reasoning is, “What other xxxholes can control lighting and have the prize for biggest egos?”****

Fun Facts: Her favorite Pokemon is Espurr. Before the war she had a collection of knives, swords, and daggers that had stabbed her were left near her. The dagger she has now is the one mentioned in her backstory. Her favorite animals are black ragamuffin cats. She identifies as a lawful neutral. Her sexuality is demiheteroromantic monogamous asexual. She is actually the oldest person in the story despite being constantly nine. She, on Jemima’s request, became a magician for a few years, preforming stunts that no one could figure out because she decided to use real magic. However, to avoid being exposed as immortal she had to fake going missing. She constantly criticizes how witches are portrayed in various media, but still loves movies that aren’t entirely accurate about witches.

*Izzy was originally made when I was nine, so I wasn’t very original. The most constant part of her character is her appearance, which at the time was just me wearing a green hoodie that I don’t own, so if you compare the two of us we look pretty alike.

**If the characters are ones she knows before the story, these are her opinions of them when the series begins. If she didn’t know them before, they’re from when she knows them pretty well. There’s not really a distinction between the two but I feel like I should mention this fact.

*** There’s characters mentioned here not mentioned in the backstory segments because either 1) she doesn’t have a significant interaction with them before the series starts or 2) she doesn’t meet them until the story begins.

****Bolt may be like Zeus in some regards, but he is very monogamous. And very gay.