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elyvorg · 2 years

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A Friend, Locked Up: post-fic plot summary

This is a bit of a companion post for one of my Great Ace Attorney fics, following up on how the rest of the story in that AU would differ from canon after the point where the fic ended. Spoilers for the game, of course! (and I guess the fic too, kinda but actually not really?)

The fic ended before reaching Kazuma’s trial itself, because trials aren’t as engaging in prose form and the real emotional climax of the narrative was when Kazuma’s friends choose to believe in him. I imagine readers can take it as a given that of course Ryunosuke successfully manages to defend his friend, and then the Professor case still comes up and that part goes similarly to in canon.

But I did have some thoughts anyway about how Kazuma’s trial might hypothetically go if this were in the actual game (like it should have been, grr), which I eventually managed to piece together into a full thing. So while I won’t write this as a fic, here’s a summarised outline for anyone who’s interested!

Trial start

- Van Zieks is prosecuting, naturally – he gave it some thought like he promised Ryunosuke he would and decided to take the case. Partly this is out of wanting to be the one to take Kazuma down if he really is such a terrible monster like his father totally was (…right?). But in part it’s also because van Zieks has grown willing to entertain the possibility that Ryunosuke might be right to trust his friend, and so he wants to ensure the case is handled honourably and without corruption. He suspects that any other prosecutor assigned to it may not do that.

- (Stronghart is cool with van Zieks handling the case, even though it’s probably a bit questionable for the previous defendant to do so, because he assumes van Zieks will happily charge in and destroy Kazuma for him without mercy, just like Kazuma tried to do in reverse. He does not realise that van Zieks has begun to soften up and doubt his hatred.)

- Stronghart is of course still the judge, and he makes the same declaration at the beginning of “we will stop at nothing to uncover the whole truth” that he does in canon.

- The prosecution’s opening statement includes confirming the blood and bullet hole found at the crime scene, presenting a photo that clearly shows said bullet hole in the wall.

- Van Zieks also presents a pile of Japanese clothes belonging to Jigoku that were found in the cabin, and a particular loose button among them that wasn’t matched to any of the clothes. Investigators later matched the button to the cuff on Kazuma’s outfit, which is indeed missing a button. This is proof that it was pulled off during some kind of struggle in that room, and therefore that Kazuma did more than just swing a sword at a trunk.

- This tracks with what Ryunosuke knows – Kazuma admitted he struggled with Gregson over the gun despite not shooting him with it – but it sure doesn’t help him look good.

- Ryunosuke feels kind of odd about the missing button on Kazuma’s cuff but can’t put his finger on why. He noticed it wasn’t there when visiting him in prison yesterday too, but…

- As Ryunosuke rightly pointed out at the end of van Zieks’s trial, the main big mystery that the prosecution needs to answer here is how Kazuma could have moved the body from the SS Grouse back to London without being discovered. The only person whose luggage wasn’t searched when disembarking the ship at Dover was Jigoku. And a trunk that looks exactly like Jigoku’s, containing bloodstains on the inside, was recently found dumped in the Thames.

Testimony 1

- So, Jigoku is called to testify. He claims that the trunk found in the Thames is not his; it just happens to be an identical model, because he bought his trunk in London during his time here ten years ago and the same kind are still sold today. (It’s actually quite plausible that Jigoku might have bought his person-sized trunk in London last time, since he must have been planning to smuggle Genshin home somehow!)

- The prosecution claims that Kazuma purchased a trunk identical to Jigoku’s and brought it with him to Dunkirk that day. Conveniently Gregson is dead and none of the ship’s staff are available as witnesses because the Grouse had to set sail again, so nobody can refute this.

- The argument is that Kazuma put Gregson’s body in this trunk after killing him, froze it in the ship’s refrigerator overnight, then secretly switched it with Jigoku’s trunk shortly before the luggage check to get it past customs without it being searched. He then must have switched them back sometime after.

- Jigoku’s testimony confirms that his trunk was being handled by staff out of his sight enough times between Dover and his hotel room for the swaps to have been possible without him being aware of it.

- Ryunosuke’s first line of attack during his cross-examination is to point out the pile of Jigoku’s clothes found on the floor of his cabin. This strongly suggests they were removed to make space for the body in Jigoku’s actual trunk, and so there’s no way Jigoku couldn’t have known.

- Jigoku gives an excuse that, nah, he just left them on the ship because he wasn’t going to need Japanese clothes in England, and he’s rich enough that he can just buy more. The fact that he removed them doesn’t prove he had sinister motives in doing so.

- Ryunosuke then brings up that this means his trunk would have been rather light, and so he would have noticed an obvious discrepancy in weight between his own trunk and the one containing Gregson’s body. Jigoku is forced to claim that he did indeed never notice such a thing – but the first time he had to carry the trunk himself after arriving in Britain was upon reaching the hotel. This narrows down when Kazuma supposedly switched the trunks back: Jigoku must have had his own trunk with him again by the time he was at the hotel.

- Then, this is what we can use the photo of the group at the hotel for in this version of the story! Let me make a minor retroactive edit to canon: the trunk in the photo always had a distinctively-shaped scuff mark visible on one edge. The same scuff mark can also be seen by examining the bloodied trunk that was found in the Thames. Thus, Ryunosuke can prove that the trunk used to transport Gregson’s body must have been Jigoku’s own trunk that was with him the whole time, and the alleged switching never happened at all.

- Van Zieks presented this whole line of argument about the supposed switched trunks only because Stronghart ordered him to. He was always suspicious about its legitimacy and is quite happy for Ryunosuke to have shot it down. He is here to uncover all the corruption going on in this case, Jigoku’s and all.

- At this point, Stronghart demands that Ryunosuke present some kind of proof as to why Jigoku would have ever let himself have any involvement in this crime, and Ryunosuke is forced to present the exchange assassination contract to establish Jigoku’s connection to Gregson’s murder. He's a little hesitant to do that, because it does also make Kazuma look considerably worse, but he does it anyway. It’s the truth.

- Jigoku has no choice but to admit that he knowingly partook in moving the body. That’s all he’s confessing to, however. He still maintains that Kazuma did the actual murder.

Testimony 2

- Now that he has nothing left to lose, Jigoku claims that he personally witnessed Kazuma killing Gregson, through a small hole in the cabin door as he was arriving back at his cabin. Kazuma then supposedly confronted Jigoku in the doorway and blackmailed him – with the assassination contract – into moving the body for him, hence Jigoku’s excuse for why he didn’t bring this up until now.

- There is indeed a small hole of some kind in the cabin door that Jigoku could have seen things through; it’s visible in the crime scene photo shown earlier. The police weren’t sure what made it but didn’t have enough time to investigate it further beyond concluding that it wasn’t relevant to the case.

- Part of Jigoku’s testimony mentions blood splattering over Kazuma when he shot Gregson at point blank range. (This is almost certainly a detail Jigoku only included because he vividly recalls it happening when he shot Gregson.) Pressing elsewhere in his testimony gets Jigoku to specify that the outfit Kazuma was wearing that day was the same white one he’s wearing now.

- There’s no evidence to present to this, but Ryunosuke and Susato figure out that they can use the jury-style tactic of pitting one statement against another. Jigoku’s contradicting himself – blood can’t have splattered over Kazuma’s white clothes without being obviously visible afterwards.

- Jigoku argues that maybe Kazuma had a spare of the white outfit that he brought with him and changed into afterwards while dumping the bloody one in the sea. Van Zieks of all people objects to refute this, vouching that the outfit used to belong to his brother and is one-of-a-kind.

- Jigoku frantically backpedals, claiming that, well, okay, maybe he misremembered the clothes Kazuma was wearing and it was actually some other outfit he wore during the murder. Conveniently there’s nobody else around to testify and confirm he was wearing the white outfit that day, right?

- At this, Ryunosuke can object and bring up the loose button from Kazuma’s cuff that was found in the cabin, pulled off during the struggle with Gregson. Proof that Kazuma really was wearing the white clothes at the scene!

- In response, Jigoku accidentally blurts out something like, “But that wasn’t when it was pulled off…!” and then stops himself when he realises what he just said.

- Kazuma picks up on what this is implying and mentions that there was one point during his questioning when one of the police officers got somewhat rough with him and grabbed his arm. It’s possible that the button could have been pulled off his cuff then and planted in the pile of Jigoku’s clothes to incriminate him. And Jigoku’s slip of the tongue basically just confirmed that this is indeed what happened. Oops.

- Jigoku claims that this is only something he overheard the officers talking about and totally wasn’t involved in himself, and he points the blame for the fabrication at van Zieks. Van Zieks – who of course had no idea about this and is furious – argues that if he was trying to illegitimately frame Kazuma then he would hardly have helped the defence’s case just now by volunteering the fact about the clothes being one-of-a-kind.

- Still, as much of a mess as this is, the fact that evidence was fabricated to frame Kazuma doesn’t actually prove his innocence, nor does knowing about this necessarily prove Jigoku’s guilt. While a regular judge would be more likely to err on the side of innocence since the fabrication introduced doubt (this is basically what happened with McGilded), the judge here is Stronghart. He is not about to let Kazuma off based on anything short of explicit proof he didn’t do it. Kazuma was still there at the scene and has admitted to his struggle with the victim, and, since the button was not in fact indicative of the clothes he was wearing at the time, Jigoku’s testimony that he saw Kazuma pull the trigger and get splattered with blood still holds.

- Just then, with things looking dire and Ryunosuke and Susato at a loss for what else to do… suddenly there’s a meowing sound. This trial happens to be taking place in the one courtroom in the Old Bailey that has a cat flap in the door, and in wanders Wagahai, wearing a cute Iris-made kitty backpack.

- Inside it is a photograph of… the door to the cabin on the Grouse. Just that, nothing else. On the back, there’s a note in Sholmes’s handwriting, reading: I took this after your second call that day. Many thanks to Miss Susato for the inspiration.

- Susato is confused for a moment – she didn’t ask Sholmes to do anything in particular that day while he was on the ship – until it hits her. And she falls silent, evasive, too seized by sudden guilt to voice what she’s realised, leaving Ryunosuke to figure it out himself.

- The cabin door in this photo doesn’t have a hole in it. And yet it was taken when Sholmes was there, long after the murder. The hole that Jigoku supposedly witnessed the murder through must have been added illegally by the investigating police, working with Jigoku, to allow the possibility of condemning Kazuma through testimony if need be. But Jigoku couldn’t possibly have seen what he claims he saw – and the only reason he would lie about that is if he was Gregson’s true killer.

- (Sholmes only thought of taking this photo as a precaution because of what Susato did with the peephole to trap the criminal in 1-5. Susato’s brilliance there helped save Kazuma here! And this time it didn’t require any accidental tampering with the crime scene on our friends’ part.)

The rest

- So Jigoku breaks down and confesses, including to the part where the exchange mastermind created a phony Reaper mission to give him the chance to kill Gregson.

- Kazuma is officially declared not guilty. But just as Stronghart is about to adjourn the court, Kazuma himself objects to this, insisting that the trial cannot end here. Jigoku’s confession gave him exactly the proof he needed that the exchange mastermind and the Reaper are the same person, and he’s determined to use that to finally solve his father’s case, here and now, before things can be swept under the rug. The previous trial for Gregson’s murder originally set out to also be about confirming the identity of the Reaper after all these years; surely it would be premature to close the case without answering that?

- Initially, Stronghart doesn’t seem opposed to the idea. However, once Kazuma and Ryunosuke explain why the Reaper has to be the man who ordered Klint’s autopsy to be forged, and van Zieks confirms that this had nothing to do with him and it must have been Stronghart, of course Stronghart tries to shut things down and insist the Professor case is closed.

- Enter Sholmes, with the same part as in canon where he reminds the court of Stronghart’s “stop at nothing to uncover the whole truth” claim at the beginning, and the judiciary demands the trial continue.

- Van Zieks is somewhat conflicted about this – one the one hand he’s glad for a chance to put paid to the rumour that he’s the Reaper once and for all, but on the other he’s not thrilled to revisit the Professor case – but nonetheless he agrees to pursue this supplementary hearing alongside the defence. He asks for a brief recess first, even though Mikotoba is right here, to help him prepare the details of the case.

- As they return to the antechamber, while Susato is congratulating Kazuma on his acquittal, Ryunosuke is just beaming with joy and relief… and he goes and gives Kazuma a big hug.

- Kazuma is stunned for a moment, but then he leans in and hugs back, tight. All he says is, “Thank you,” leaving it ambiguous whether it’s thanks for the defence, for the hug, or just… for everything. (It’s for everything.)

- After pulling away, Ryunosuke sheepishly mumbles that he’s sorry, it’s just that he’s been meaning to do this for a while and…

- Kazuma just chuckles and says, “What are you apologising for?”

- Kazuma tells Ryunosuke that he’s leaving everything to him, trusting in him to find the whole truth of his father’s case. Ryunosuke is bewildered that Kazuma’s talking like he won’t be there himself – but Kazuma, as much as he hates it, has resigned himself to the fact that he won’t be allowed to. He’s merely a recently-acquitted defendant who (especially after his disgraceful showing the last time he prosecuted) has no right to stand in court for this.

- Right then, van Zieks walks in with the words, “What are you talking about?” Kazuma’s still his apprentice and judicial assistant, and while van Zieks doesn’t exactly like him yet, he knows that Kazuma of all people has just as much right to play a part in seeing the Professor case through to the end as anyone. Stronghart might object, but as the lead prosecutor, van Zieks has the final say in who stands at his bench alongside him, and he’s choosing to have Kazuma there. (This is the real reason he called the recess – so he could do this.)

- Kazuma still doesn’t really like van Zieks yet either, but he understands exactly how much of a big deal this offer is, coming from him, and accepts it with deepest gratitude.

- The rest then goes basically the same as the Professor part of the final trial in canon, except without any of the bits where Kazuma is still hating and trying to blame van Zieks, since he got over that earlier in this AU. And in this version, both of them are standing at the prosecutor’s bench together!

- (Okay, but this might actually end up making the bits where van Zieks breaks down over Klint look a little awkward, if he’s doing that at the prosecutor’s bench while Kazuma’s just standing there next to him. Maybe he moves to the witness stand at some point to testify about details relating to his brother, since this is a special trial and he’s not technically prosecuting anybody? I dunno.)

The end

- Kazuma still has to be reprimanded for his error in overlooking the missing bullet in van Zieks’s trial, but van Zieks, as his superior, takes responsibility for deciding that punishment. He chooses something suitably laborious and unpleasant such as, I don’t know, having to clean out his office’s bat nook every week, perhaps. Something that registers as a punishment to appease anyone who might argue that Kazuma is getting off too easy, and yet that doesn’t have any effect whatsoever on Kazuma’s standing and progress as an apprentice prosecutor.

- After all, van Zieks knows that Kazuma has learned from his mistake already. And he himself is guilty of making a similar kind of grave oversight in his own very first case due to being blinded by a desire for revenge, so it’d be hypocritical of him to think less of Kazuma’s prosecutorial skills because of something like this.

- During the scene at Dover, Kazuma still asks Ryunosuke to hold onto Karuma for him. Instead of confessing to his murderous intent (because he already did that in prison), Kazuma admits that the thing that snapped him out of it was being reminded of Ryunosuke. Ryunosuke saved him three times over – from killing Gregson, from wrongly convicting van Zieks, and in his trial. He’ll never be able to thank his friend enough.

- Kazuma says he’s been thinking a lot about how to move forward and, thanks to this, has come to the realisation that what he needs most is to not be alone, and to have people he can trust by his side. Since Ryunosuke’s leaving, he mentions that he’s thinking of asking if he can stay with Sholmes and Iris, if they’d have him.

- Ryunosuke hears this and immediately goes all, “Well, why don’t we ask them right now?” He cheerfully switches to English to call over to them, asking if Kazuma can stay with them. Kazuma is awkward and flustered and was not ready to have this conversation just yet (he is good at putting off Difficult Conversations) but can’t exactly complain either because he did just say he wanted this. Sholmes and Iris of course are thrilled to welcome him to Baker Street and get to know him better. It was going to be so quiet and lonely in the flat with Runo and Susie gone, but not if Kazzy comes to stay instead! Kazuma is faintly bewildered and more than a little moved by this.

- And most importantly, Ryunosuke and Kazuma hug again as they’re saying goodbye, because I SAY SO and they SHOULD HAVE DONE in canon. I don’t care how difficult hugs are to animate, this is IMPORTANT. They still do the sword-crossing thing too, of course, that was also good, but HUGS. They are FRIENDS.

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney chronicles #the great ace attorney #great ace attorney #tgaa spoilers #writing #friends #ryunosuke naruhodo #barok van zieks #kazuma asogi #seishiro jigoku

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f1 · 2 years

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Hamiltons split from Cullen was what he decided Wolff | 2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix

Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff has given further insight into Lewis Hamilton’s split from his long-time trainer and physiotherapist Angela Cullen. Hamilton and Cullen confirmed yesterday they had concluded a working relationship which began in 2016. Cullen was appointed by Hintsa Performance who work with several Formula 1 drivers. She had been a fixture alongside Hamilton since then, up until the season-opening race in Bahrain two weeks ago. Wolff said the news of the split was unexpected and he believes it was instigated by Hamilton. “Angela was part of the gang for a long time,” he said. “I think in every team, whether that is his close circle, or also in the wider group, this is not a static situation that you can freeze. We all develop as people, we develop as an organisation and if things don’t work out anymore, then we need to be honest about it and then bring change. “Angela will always be a mascot of the team. She’s the only one who has a louder voice than a starting car. But, you know, if this is what he decides, we will always absolutely support him, whatever direct direction he wants to take.” Cullen said she was “excited to share I’m off on my next adventure” in a social media post yesterday. “Exactly seven [years] ago on this day I was standing in the F1 paddock for the first time at the Australian GP,” she said. “I am so grateful and blessed to have had this incredible journey in F1 and I know my story will continue.” She said working for Hamilton had been “an honour and pleasure.” “I’m so proud of you and everything you have achieved,” said Cullen. Thank you for supporting me, believing in me and showing me the limitless potential we all have within us. I am so excited to watch the next chapter for you. There’s nothing you can’t do.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

#F1 #Hamilton’s split from Cullen was ‘what he decided’ – Wolff | 2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix #Formula 1

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remythologise · 3 years

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as my resident spn blogger, can you please explöain what the hell is going on?

I SIMPLY LOVE WHEN PEOPLE TELL ME THAT I AM THEIR RESIDENT SPN BLOGGER, it's an honour to be here to represent my nation at your own personal tumblr olympics etc... okay well. Essentially, the SPN actors Jensen Ackles and his wife Danneel Ackles formed a company called 'Chaos Machine Productions' (You can't make this up. Chaos Machine. Well. They sure did name it accurately!). Yesterday, two main things happened with respect to that company - firstly, news that the head of development at the company was actively campaigning for more LGBT+ stories, and the instagram having a pride icon etc., which was IMMEDIATELY BURIED by the news that this production company seemingly have the rights to the Supernatural intellectual copyright, and for their first show are working on a show about the 'epic love story' of John and Mary Winchester.

Now, this was controversial with ALL sides of online fandom (Destiel shippers, Wincest shippers, bibros/redditors, etc.) because John Winchester is widely (but not universally) regarded as an abusive father towards Sam and Dean, so the proposition of putting him as a protagonist did Not sit well with most people. In addition, you have the Destiel faction pissed off that this series obviously doesn't address Castiel or Destiel, and the Wincest/BiBro faction pissed off it's... not about the brothers. Nobody really wants a show about Sam and Dean's parents. Hell, they're not really an 'epic love story' - canonically they only fell in love because angels wanted their bloodlines for Sam and Dean to be born, so they forced love through cherub magic. However, at the helm is Robbie Thompson, one of Supernatural's very best and most Destiel & LGBT-friendly writers. Once initial ire dies down people are a bit more optimistic to know Jensen seems to have the rights to Supernatural in general and wants to do a lot of 'gap filling' with regards to canon.

Anyway this news was retweeted by Jensen... and then by Misha, who seemed to, along with other members of the cast such as Rowena, Anna and Adam's actors, kind of say 'haha room for us??? spare employment???' But oh, then Jared Padalecki logged on and made it very clear that he was not aware of this prequel series and was pretty pissed off about not being in it or aware of it. Basically livetweeted a public best-friendship fall out. He even TWEETED Robbie Thompson with this, (and then deleted it) which is honestly. Pretty wild. He may or may not have also unfollowed/refollowed Misha and Jensen on twitter/instagram (sources around this are sketchy). That's the summary of events. Jared has also followed up with a tweet this morning which is. Very funny to me, no further comment.

This also adds to the 'J2 Fallout Theory' (J'squared' referring to Jensen and Jared) that Jensen and Jared, despite famously being very close friends on the show, became Less Close in the wake of a season finale that had Dean killed off and centred around Sam, which Jared seemed to like and Jensen... did not seem to like. Adding to this are the tidbits that Jensen apparently turned down a) the starring role and then b) a directing part on Walker, Jared's current CW show, and that Danneel and Gen Padalecki unfollowed each other on social media. This whole thing has also led to retroactive viewing of J2 interactions like this in a new light.

Biggest L of course to the J2 romantic relationship truthers. RIP to the oldest conspiracy theorists in the fandom. And also the CONVENTIONS that are booked with J2 PANELS AS THE MAIN MONEY-MAKING ATTRACTION.

In addition, various writers have tweeted or liked comments that added fuel to the fire around the issue. (i.e. show creator Eric Kripke confirming he knew about it and liking Misha's tweet, writer Robert Berens laughing at the J2 truthers, Sebastian Roche casting shade on Jared in code, Meghan Fitzmartin just… liking that… tumblr text post... Meanwhile writer Steve Yockey meanwhile liking shady tweets about bad showrunners which seems like almost entirely unrelated shade @ Robert Singer and/or Andrew Dabb and/or others.) But the summary is: content is BACK ON, baby!

#ask #anonymous #supernatural spoilers #spn spoilers #kira for ts #it's nearly 4am I should sleep but america is JUST waking up who knows what today will bring #back to the supernatural 9-5. so like. 12pm to 6am then #rehired by my old job at the supernatural cultural office

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josefavomjaaga · 4 years

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Letter from Naples, October 1812

This is a pretty long one, so I’ll give it its own post. It dates still from the time before people realized what horrible disaster had struck the “Grande Armée” in Russia.

Mier to Metternich [all in French].

Naples, October 11, 1812.

My Lord Count!

1) In acquitting myself of your commission to Mr Marquis de Gallo I learned that the dispatches from your Excellency dated August 5 and 18, the receipt of which I had the honor of announcing to Him in my report of October 2, had been entrusted to a traveler, and not to a courier, which has caused their delay.

2) The departure of a Neapolitan courier for the Grand Army gives me the opportunity to confirm to your Excellency the receipt of the dispatches with which Your Excellency honored me on September 26, and of the geographical map. I ask Her to accept all my thanks for this dispatch, and the interesting news which Your Excellency has been kind enough to transmit to me.

3) The immense means assembled and set in motion by Emperor Napoleon against Russia in the present war, his genius and his good fortune which always preside over the execution of his plans, must necessarily lead to great results; but it must be admitted that they have surpassed all expectations. The news of the great victory won by the French at Mozaisk, their entry into Moscow, and especially the glorious part played by the King of Naples in all these brilliant successes having decided the victory of the battle of the 7th by his personal bravery and the skill of his manoeuvres, produced a universal joy here that was only increased by the hope of a rapid return of His Majesty to his capital. The letters which the Regent received the day before yesterday from Her august husband lead us to believe that his arrival in Naples is very near. It is even said that H. M. will pass through Vienna on his way to his states.

4) The latest letters from headquarters say that the Emperor Napoleon will go to Paris, as soon as the Army has taken up its winter quarters, and that Marshal Davout will be in general command of all the troops. The same letters announce as a positive thing that the Emperor Napoleon would be proclaimed King of Poland, and Marshal Davout viceroy.

[From here on in cyphers].

I cannot believe the reason that the Marquis de Gallo wanted me to accept for the delay of the dispatches of 5 and 18 August; the Duke St Angelo having given the two annexes to a courier had not charged a traveller with the two principal ones.

It appears that the disputes which arose between their Majesties and the subsequent disunity which was understood to have been settled during their last stay in Paris, are still going on even when they are no longer together; for it is enough for the Queen to want something for the King to refuse it, for her to protect someone for him to take offense. Most of the things which the queen has submitted for his approval since he has been away, and discussed in the August Council in 13 (?) of Ministers, have been rejected or their decision postponed until his return; this places her and her ministers in great embarrassment; so that affairs are in a state of complete stagnation. He has ultimately forbidden the payment of the sums due or requested by France, on the pretext of lack of money, and has at the same time assigned very considerable funds for such useless buildings as the restoration and completion of the immense palace of Caserta, begun on such a large scale by Charles III that his successors have not dared or been able to complete it. The Emperor Napoleon is aware of all this and takes note of it. In order to alienate more and more the affection of the Neapolitans from his wife, the King takes advantage of his absence and of the moment when the reins of government seem to be in the hands of the queen to create new taxes and to put into execution certain onerous measures, odious to the country, which are known in public to have already been rejected by the King when they were proposed to him by his ministers (the queen chose not to order the implementation of several similar measures). All this, together with the perception already held by the Neapolitans that the queen was only protecting the French, does her a great deal of harm in public opinion and gives rise to a strong desire for the king's return. Also one can expect that it will be received with enthusiasm by the Neapolitans who at the same time are very flattered that their king contributed so much to the brilliant successes of the French army in the North and to the gain of the battle of September 7.

Shortly after his departure from Naples, he had appointed General Parisi to the position of Grand Marshal of the Palace. This choice, unfortunate in every respect, was disapproved of by the queen and the people who knew about it; the regent postponed the publication of the royal decree until the return of the king, which greatly annoyed His Majesty. In addition to all that I have just had the honour of notifying your Excellency of, the amount of gossip which is circulating in town and which is nonetheless reported to Their Majesties by individuals who claim to be attached to them, allows us to foresee, on the King's return, storms and new quarrels in his household. Napoleon, according to his known system of maintaining misunderstanding and disunity in his family, gives reason to both.

He wants to bring things to a head, to disorganise the government, and then to seize this pretext to reunite this country with the great Empire, as he has done with Holland.

Please accept, Count, the assurance of my highest consideration, etc.

(translated from “Helfert: Joachim Murat. Seine letzten Kämpfe und sein Ende”)

I find the continued references to the fate of Holland really fascinating. The fact Napoleon would disinherit his own family seems to have shocked Austria a lot. (If I remember correctly, Louis Bonaparte also had exiled himself to Austria.)

Also, nice insight into the Murat marriage troubles. Poor them.

The next letters will already be from spring 1813, when the negotiations between Naples and Austria already had started.

#joachim murat #caroline murat #naples #austria #helfert murat #holland

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somersetlevels · 4 years

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ROYAL NAVY CONFIRMED TO PROVIDE WINDSOR CASTLE GUARDS

27 November 2020

A Royal Navy contingent has been declared ready to take on the honour of guarding Windsor Castle following a successful inspection by some of the sharpest eyes in the British Army.

First sentries from a division of 35 sailors, drawn from three fighting arms and from establishments across the UK, will be posted at the castle from Monday.

They will complete their duties on December 21.

It is the third year that the Royal Navy has provided guards to the Royal Palaces but reduced this year with a smaller division trained for public duties. Having paraded at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday the same group has remained in their bubble for training and will now move on to Windsor.

It was there, within Victoria Barracks, that the inspection from the Army’s Household Division took place yesterday, making sure the Royal Navy is capable of stepping in for Foot Guards.

Source: Royal Navy

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eyeslikefoxglove · 4 years

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Episode 21 - The PTSD is strong with this one & we need more braincells

Hello hello! Welcome to the commentary. How’s everyone? I’m frozen solid because it’s mid-June in Spain and yet we had 11°C yesterday. Fucking awesome!

I AM NOT WEARING MASCARA SO I CAN CRY ALL I WANT. I DONT KNOW IF THATS GOOD OR BAD THO.

Can I just take a second to appreciate how much this big strong powerful men emote? I mean, I know this isn’t western media where the tough guy can’t show emotions, and I don’t know that eastern media has the same hangups about men emoting but just... it’s so refreshing.

Huaisang bb you’re so sweet.

Oh, oh the PTSD is strong with this one.

Also, bless both JC and NHS, they absolutely noticed WWX flinch and, in their own ways, went and steamrolled over it so WWX wouldn’t feel scrutinised.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO INFORM YALL THAT I GOT A KITTEN ON MY LAP. (She’s kneading my boob, which, ow, but...)

*BICHEN GRIIIIIIIP*

How do y’all think the guards go deliver bad news to WRH? Like do they paper-rock-scissor it? Draw straws?

NMJ did you have to?

And once again I wonder what would’ve happened if JFM had let sect leader Yao kick it.

Ughvhfnevus it’s this clown. Same as with Su She, if you see a bunch of screaming it’s just me not wanting to listen to Jin ZiXun.

The Nies: let’s throw a banquet to honour WWX’s return

Every asshole there: *gossips about WWX while in the room with him*

Once again I wish I could transmigrate (and speak mandarin lol) and just start delivering tongue lashings.

Listen, I have no idea how to play Guqin, but I did play the guitar for years and even from here I can see how much YiBo’s hands don’t match the melody. Nothing against him but why does this always happen? I know they got classes, so was the music not written by that time or something? Because one thing is not hitting the correct notes, another is plucking slow notes when the tempo is much faster.

JC: Since yours and LWJ’s unhappy separation...

My dumbass: do you mean breakup? *eyebrow waggle*

You will pry my “JC knows his brother is pinning after LWJ, he probably doesn’t want to know anything else” hc out of my cold dead hands thankyouverymuch.

WWX: *spouts a bunch of misdirection to avoid giving JC a straight answer*

JC: Bull-fucking-shit.

Should I count how many times WWX PTSDs all over the place or would you like me to leave your hearts intact? That’s two so far.

Ok ok, I feel that, if someone with a bit less trauma and a bit of insight (NHS maybe?) had seen the bit where ChenQing fucking hurts Shijie thing would’ve gone differently. I mean, yes, LWJ keeps warning WWX that this shit is gonna fuck him up, but as I said in my previous commentary LWJ also has the communication skills of a hermit crab so that wouldn’t work, and JC would be too wound up and WWX too busy trying to conceal his lack of golden core for that conversation to go anywhere. But if someone who WWX knows is a good egg (I’m not gonna say trusts bc paranoia) had sat him down and told him “your new instrument that you use for your new form of cultivation just hurt the person you love most please be careful when you use it.” I think it would’ve worked wonders towards his health overall.

I know Shijie says it’s like Zidian, but she’s not working with the fact that this thing is made for and by the Dark Side of the Force and I’m sorry but I can’t help but see ChenQing as a bit of a horrocrux almost. Or like, if you like me think the Burial Mounds is an Entity, something that’s a bit more sentient that it lets on.

Speaking of reputations and NHS being a good egg, I have oh-so-many ideas (I won’t say plot bunnies because I can’t write for shit) in which NHS for Reasons (time-travel? Letter from the future? His massive brain?) realises just how much damage WWX is doing to his public image. And he might be a sheltered dandy, but he saw what being the son of a sex worker did to Meng Yao despite how hard he worked (I’m assuming he doesn’t know about the whole betrayal business). This is way fucking worse, like hell is he going to let one of his best friends paint a target on his back. So he pulls back his sleeves, engages his slytherin brain and proceeds to lay down a plan to throughly destroy WWX’s reputation as a powerful genius.

I’m guessing LWJ and JC protest, and maybe WWX, and NHS just hits them with “do you want him respected or alive?” And they shut tf up. He glues himself to WWX, and brings up as many instances in which their behaviour can be compared as he can (we got drunk and punished at cloud recesses, we slept in class, we skipped to go fishing, I don’t carry my sword either). And, because assholes be assholes, people like Sect Leader Yao or Clown Cousin are quick to start spouting their own derogatory bullshit and thus WWX the untamed powerful prodigy dies a fiery death. Now he’s just a mouthy kid with a quick mind that “does tricks instead of battle” (I’ll never get bored of using that Thor quote). I also like to think that people who personally know WWX and are not pieces of shit go give NHS a tongue lashing for messing with what they thought was his friend, NHS takes that as a test of good eggness and bring them into the plan. Soon the whole Cloud Recesses class is swearing up, down, left, right and centre that all the shit WWX has ever successfully pulled is just an insane amount of luck and quick thinking.

I don’t know how would they work him into the battlefield (disguise? Mask?) to unleash his demonic cultivation but that’s Plot and I don’t do that.

Also, because I’m a terrible human being I want to say that people assume LWJ is on “pretty but useless” WWX like white on rice because *insert derogatory comment about being good in bed and sexual favours*. Because y’all know the assholes here are Like That. And WWX is horrified because holy fucking shit he’s gonna drag LWJ’s reputation down, he can’t have people thinking HGJ is ok with having him as a concubine pretty much. But before he can act LWJ politely all but confirms that yeah, he’s tapping that, y’all wish you were but he doesn’t share and none of y’all are good enough for his Wei Ying anyway. CUE FAKE/PRETEND RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I AM INDEED TRASH FOR THAT TROPE.

Muahahahaha y’all thought I was gonna devolve into my personal hcs and not include my fave trope? Shouldn’t y’all know me better by now?

(Btw I like this bit ^ so I might polish it a little and post it separately as well, just a warning if you find yourself reading an eerily similar post by me)

WuJi is playing and LWJ is pining so much. Also, if LWJ did not just realise that, just like Yu the Great, WWX had no other option but tame resentful energy I’ll eat my blanket.

I refuse to believe Jiang Yanli didn’t become the unofficial war camp therapist/sounding board/only sane person/everyone’s mum/I just need a hug and a corner to cry in peace. There are not enough fics about Shijie being her gentle BAMF self while in the camp and it’s a pity. My crops are dying y’all!

Also, I will fight anyone who scoffs at Shijie being the epitome of the “gentle woman who cooks and waits for the men to come back from war”. Look at her mum, do you think it is easy for a kid (she was a kid in the flashback when WWX ran away) to see that day in and day out, to have that as a “role model” and decide that she was not going to be like her mum? That she didn’t like what she saw in her so she was going to be kind and gentle? And do you think it is easy for a person barely in their twenties to deal with years of verbal and psychological abuse for again, being gentle and kind, and not grow a hard shell of bitterness to protect themselves? And to keep being gentle and kind while at war, with your parents dead and your siblings unraveling before your very eyes? Shijie is so fucking strong and I love her.

Hey look, the White Walkers!

“Resentful energy is just energy” ok, valid. But my dude, you’ve got black ghost smoke coming out of you and can hear people screaming in your head. I’m not saying it is evil, like someone’s uptight set in his ways arrogant uncle; but it sure as shit ain’t healthy.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s a Clown Cousin scream btw)

Ok ok, just one little thing: IF SOMEONE ELSE CALLS WWX WEI YING AS A SHOW OF DISRESPECT IMMA SCALP THEM.

...are those crows eating that man alive? Yikes on bikes.

(Assume my comment about YiBo’s Guqin playing also goes for Xiao Zhan and his flute. I can’t play the flute but the tempo doesn’t match his fingers)

I’m just gonna say it, I think 3zun (well, 2zun as of now) suspect shit went down badly for WWX, that’s two questions by both of them in a very soft conciliatory tone. They are genuinely interested/worried about the topic, and don’t seem to come off as chiding or judgemental. I mean WWX is a weirdo irreverent kid and they’re sect leaders, they outrank him so much it’s ridiculous. I’m also counting the fact that both their baby brothers like him towards them being so kind. But I also think WWX just triggers all their big brother instincts the second he walks in.

Oh there’s a thought, Shijie, Wen Qing, NMJ and LXC take a look at everyone’s shitty parents and just decide to adopt everyone.

What happened at Yiling was a traumatised teenager (is WWX even 20?) PTSDing all over the place with the Dark Side of the Force whispering in his ear and an all powerful trinket at his disposal. Not saying I approve of all the torture and murder but he clearly isn’t revelling in them.

That is some outstanding bit of big-brothering on LXC’s side and I love it. Also, my dumbass just realised LWJ probably wasn’t quoting WWX when he was being punished (what is white what is black?) I think he was quoting his big brother. Which is magnitudes deep too, but in a different direction and I might love that scene even more.

Ok fuck it, I’m gonna tangent. So I had a terrible boyfriend when I was 15-18. He alienated me from my friends, sunk my self-esteem to the molten core of the earth, tried to convince me my parents were abusive and encouraged (aka threatened manipulated and cajoled) the slow tanking of my high school marks. I have A Problem when I see media where someone latches onto their significant other and everything they are shifts towards that person. Now, love, true genuine love, is powerful, and I believe it can be the catalyst for shifting your world-view for the better. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t have a problem with people sticking with their romantic partner if it is clear their previous “family” is so much shit. I don’t have a problem with LWJ coming out of his shell and defying corrupt precepts because his love for WWX made them see they were wrong, or getting sassy and unrepentant during his punishment (I have a problem with the punishment bc that’s abuse but...). But I do side-eye WangXian being the only thing in their orbit. People need people, and WangXian have other good people around them. So I kind of love that yes, WWX showed him the system was corrupt, but it is the words of his brother he is sticking by to the defy said system.

Let’s go back to our scheduled slew of held pinning glances shall we?

LXC after That awkward run-in: WangJi I wasn’t gone that long, what the fuck did you two oblivious pining idiots do?

(LXC has “bitching” tea sessions with Shijie and you can’t convince me otherwise)

LWJ: *is being dramatic and not knocking on WWX’s door*

Me: oh my god you fucking idiot

Shijie: *walks in*

Me: oh thank god someone with a braincell.

Ah yes, there we go triggering WWX’s paranoia again. Why would he get a break.

OH MY GOD YOU PAIR OF FUCKING IDIOTS. THATS IT, FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT.

@ LWJ: bitch wtf was that? I know you’re shit at talking but have you thought about writing it down? Letters anyone? It worked for mr. Darcy.

(Yes LWJ is mr darcy and now I want an au where LWJ writes WWX letters and just pours everything in them, WWX finds them, any everything is sunshine and rainbows)

While this bullshit fight/misunderstanding is all on LWJ’s shoulders, I’m also going to scream at WWX. Because yes, he is in PTSD hell, but he trusted LWJ before, and yet he can’t get past his perceived notion of LWJ’s character (and his own inadequacies) to trust him again and ask for help. Plus, you know, he thinks he doesn’t deserve he’ll bc *waves hand at WWX’s trauma conga line*

These episodes can’t be good for my BP.

Thanks for reading!

#the untamed #cql #mdzs live action #mdzs #foxglove watches cql #foxglove watches the untamed #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #yunmeng trio #yunmeng siblings #commentary

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betsypaige22 · 5 years

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This is such a great interview....god, I miss Bobby. I’ve posted this because otherwise you need to be a subscriber...

I have to be honest, picturing Bobby doing this particular yoga pose makes me need to take a cold shower, lol. The part about his kids asking if he’s going to leave them is heartbreaking ....😭😭. I do love that he’s still baking...

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Every Sunday morning the actor Robert Carlyle grabs his mat and heads off for a session of “restorative yoga” in the Canadian port city of Vancouver, where he lives. There is one particular pose — called a “chest-opener”; you lie back, arms supported by bolsters, and release stress and feelings through the abdomen — that has produced remarkable results.

“You hold the pose for up to nine minutes and it releases emotions,” he says. “Out of nowhere I remembered this old lady leading me through the streets of Drumchapel in Glasgow when I was about seven years old, to go to see some wrestling. I hadn’t remembered her since I was a kid. I just lay there crying.”

Carlyle was brought up by his father, Joe, after his mother, Elizabeth, walked out to be with another man when he was four. His father was a painter and decorator, and the pair lived an itinerant existence around the UK in communes, shared houses and even tents. They lived in almost 100 homes. The old woman was his grandmother, Jean, who stepped in to help sometimes.

“That’s what set me off,” Carlyle says. “The realisation that this old woman was my dad’s mum, born in 1895 and survivor of two world wars. And here she was in her seventies, looking out for me when my dad was struggling to get to work.”

Carlyle left school at 16 and followed his father into painting and decorating. Aged 22, he discovered acting and, without formal training, appeared in The Hard Man, Tom McGrath’s play about the notorious Glasgow gangster Jimmy Boyle. After this he was encouraged to enrol at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama (now the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland).

In the early 1990s he made a name for himself in the ITV detective series Cracker, as well as playing Begbie, the charismatic psycho in the screen adaptation of Irvine Welsh’s novel Trainspotting. Carlyle was lauded as a raw talent able to articulate a new “dirty realism”, although it was his role in the 1997 stripper comedy The Full Monty and as James Bond’s ex-KGB nemesis Renard in the 1999 film The World is Not Enough that catapulted him to international stardom.

“I went through a stage of being very angry about my mother, and that helped to fuel some of those roles,” he says. “As for Begbie in Trainspotting, that was partly me and partly the odd genuine psycho I had encountered in Glasgow.”

At the height of his fame in the 1990s Carlyle was at the centre of Cool Britannia and simultaneously friends with Damon Albarn from Blur and Noel Gallagher, then in Oasis (Carlyle appeared in the video for the single Little By Little). Tony Blair even recommended him for an OBE in the 1998 new year’s honours list. And yet, while at drama school Carlyle feared he might never get work because he wasn’t “posh”.

Now he has come full circle because he is about to play the fictional British prime minister Robert Sutherland in the new six-part Sky drama series Cobra. “Before I opened the script, I actually thought it was about a snake,” he says. “That’s what living away from home does to you.”

Cobra in fact refers to the Cabinet Office Briefing Rooms, the government’s crisis centre where national emergencies from terrorist attacks to natural disasters are handled. In this case the threat comes from a geomagnetic storm resulting from a solar flare that is threatening the worldwide electrical infrastructure. Kettles stop boiling. Cities go dark. Planes drop from the sky.

Carlyle is rigorous in his preparation for roles. When cast as a bus driver in Ken Loach’s 1996 film Carla’s Song he qualified as one. “For a working-class guy from Glasgow, being a prime minister was always going to be challenging,” he says. “I listened to tapes of posh Scottish MPs like [the former foreign secretary] Sir Malcolm Rifkind. He’ll sound like a Scot most of the time, but there are certain turns of phrase when you think, ‘Are you sure this guy is for real?’”

Keen-eyed viewers will have seen Carlyle in the BBC’s adaptation of HG Wells’s The War of the Worlds as the “potentially gay” astronomer Ogilvy. But perhaps only true aficionados will have spotted him as John Lennon in the Beatles tribute film Yesterday. He appeared as a counterfactual, 78-year-old Lennon enjoying his dotage in a bungalow by the sea. Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr approved, but Lennon’s widow Yoko Ono wasn’t happy. “She didn’t like the idea of people seeing John get old, which I understand, but [the director] Danny Boyle argued that John is revered public property,” Carlyle says.

Carlyle wouldn’t accept a credit for the role. “That felt like too much. The chance to play a hero was enough. I don’t think it hurts to occasionally do things for love.”

Lennon’s relationship with his mother, Julia, was fractured too of course, and after a turbulent adolescence and having reached the top of his professional game, Carlyle came to yearn for a family. “I could go anywhere and have anything. [The 1990s] were an extraordinary time. But even then, I was quite a shy person, and I wanted kids and a home and a wife. Every day I am thankful that I found the most fantastic woman to do that with.”

Carlyle met his wife, the make-up artist Anastasia Shirley, while working on Cracker, and they have three children: Ava, 17, Harvey, 15, and Pearce, 13. After ten years in Vancouver, where Carlyle was making the US series Once Upon a Time, his children consider themselves Canadian. Sometimes they ask about his upbringing, an era referred to as his “black and white years”. “‘Dad, tell us about the black and white years,’ they say. It’s pretty heavy telling children about your mother leaving because they look frightened and say, ‘Are you going to bugger off as well?’ When I’ve reassured them, they just look sad. So I say to them, ‘Don’t be sad for me, I got all the love I ever needed. I don’t feel angry or aggrieved. It was her that missed out.’”

Carlyle’s father died of a heart attack in 2006, and in an attempt to work through his grief Carlyle embarked on a tour of the homes they shared together. “That tour was about confirming I had lived that life,” he says. “I’ve been honoured at Buckingham Palace. I’ve done a Bond movie. But I’ve also slept rough with my old man under Brighton pier. It can mess with your head. Going back reminded me where I’m from. I sat in the car weeping.”

For now the family remain in Canada while the children complete their schooling. At weekends he takes them to football, bakes bread (Carlyle taught himself after discovering that Lennon was an accomplished home baker) and the family sometimes go for walks in a local forest.

He celebrated New Year’s Eve in Scotland with his old friend Robert del Naja from Massive Attack and, sooner or later, the family will return for good. It’s striking that Carlyle has not lost his accent. “You don’t lose the accent unless you want to,” he says with a smile. “I love our life in Canada. It’s a beautiful country with beautiful people. But I only have to do a couple of yoga poses to know I’ve got a lot of Britain still inside of me.”

All episodes of Cobra are available from January 17 on Sky One and NOW TV

ROBERT CARLYLE’S PERFECT WEEKEND

Trainspotting or stamp collecting?

Neither — football

Independence or unity?

Unity and collaboration, always

Glasgow or Sheffield?

Glasgow

Green juice for breakfast or the full monty?

Full monty

Night in or night out?

Night in

Last film you saw?

Joker

Country walk or personal trainer?

Country walk

How many unread emails in your inbox?

Around 2,000

What’s your signature dish?

Pasta

I couldn’t get through my weekend without . . .

Football

#robert carlyle

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sea-dukes-assistant · 4 years

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Royal Navy Confirmed To Provide Windsor Castle Guards

A Royal Navy contingent has been declared ready to take on the honour of guarding Windsor Castle following a successful inspection by some of the sharpest eyes in the British Army.

First sentries from a division of 35 sailors, drawn from three fighting arms and from establishments across the UK, will be posted at the castle from Monday.

They will complete their duties on December 21.

It was there, within Victoria Barracks, that the inspection from the Army’s Household Division took place yesterday, making sure the Royal Navy is capable of stepping in for Foot Guards.

Household Division Brigade Major, Lieutenant Colonel Guy Stone, led the inspection, accompanied by the Garrison Sergeant Major, praising the high standard of drill and dress which they observed for an hour.

Leading Chef (Submariner) James Ellison, from Lancashire, said: “To become part of the Queen’s Guard at Windsor Castle leading up to the Christmas period is a highlight of your career and a massive achievement for the Royal Navy.”

Due to the restrictions of Covid-19 prevention measures, there will be no musical support whenever the Royal Navy mounts or dismounts the guard. The castle is currently closed to visitors.

(source)

#excuse me while I Sailor #Royal Navy #in which I sing Anchors Aweigh at them every morning

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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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The 100 7x01: Discussion

My general takeaway from the episode can be summarised like this: Echo is spectacular. (I might’ve said “oh my god look at her!!!!!” and “ugh she is just The Best” too many times to count).

This is long-ish because I really just wanted to consolidate my thoughts in one place. Bitch it’s me i got a lot to say!!!!!

The Good Parts

— The farmhouse setting. While it’s existence is strange and “a sore thumb” and worked to further push Sanctum being the abomination born of clumsily mixing genres and time periods in terms of construction/costuming, making everything appear disconnected and obnoxious, it was still a nice change. It made me feel warmer and more comfortable as a ‘modern’ viewer. It’s a breath of fresh air from the constant dark element: dilapidated post-apoc buildings falling from their foundation, endless woods, and equally cold-feeling labs and skeleton dungeons.

— Echo. This was a damn good episode for Echo and every second reminded me of why she’s my favourite. She’s a badass. I always love to see her falling naturally into leadership of her little ragtag groups who accept it wholeheartedly. From the “testing a theory” moment where she went ‘when Gabriel doesn’t speak >>>’, to right at the end when she killed the solider about to “eliminate” Hope (hesitation is death...oh no he can’t hear us he’s got airpods in oh my god). It was Echo that got them through the whole sequence with the anomaly, Echo who figured shit out, Echo who quickly judged the situations and formed plans to overcome the obstacles. In other words: she did THAT.

Favourite scene: Echo coming face-to-face with the projection of her own insecurities in the form of Roan and Echo 1.0, and physically overcoming them (shooting them down), along with the trauma and pain that they both represent. The perserverence and getting the job done despite the emotional torture felt like a callback to the Psychosis episode of 6x02 when she was clever enough to sedate herself to silence the voices in her head. I also think the dialogue chosen was also foreshadowing that she would become a leader by the finale (commander?) and i love to see it!

— Clarke and Madi’s conversation. Oh Clarke, you just keep reinforcing and validating my perceptions of who you are as a person over and over again lol. In all her self-importance failing to remember that Madi, in fact, had and was raised by her biological parents for half of her life (and the new knowledge that she spent six years telling her little mind tales from the book of her life whilst apparently never taking the time to learn about Madi’s or acknowledge/honour her birth parents in any way) is “yeah that’s about right” to me. Sure you could say she was still reeling from the events of six and her death-almost death-almost death again. But I’ve always had this Thing about the relationship between Clarke and Madi. And i’ve seen some of the lighthearted humourous reception that scene got from fandom, “#where do you think the child CAME from?!” which only served to remind me of my own impression that Clarke views Madi as wholely ‘hers’, as if Madi’s existence was tied to Clarke, but i might elaborate in a seperate post.

This scene was a lovely display of self-awareness I’ve rarely seen on Clarke (never even got it when she electrocuted said child two seasons ago- however that absense of apology and acknowledgement of the sheer wrongness of that action also fits very nicely with my view of her lmao, still though, a weird choice for your ‘heroine’).

— Clarke’s “feels like a different world.” Felt romantically-coded. I think Gaia/Clarke might be the most convinient relationship to transform into romance at this point. However I’m sincerely hoping this road they could go down won’t reduce Gaia to a crutch/accessory for Clarke, and that she doesn’t become merely a love interest. I’ve seen talk already of Gaia being “Clarke’s happiness” etc.. which is already confirming my worst fears. Sigh.

This moment very much felt like found closure and the turning of a page. But i will say it was a very sharp turn from the three seasons of shoehorned-in mentions of Lexa, and last season’s emphasis on Clarke’s very-much intact emotional response to her memory- “it’s why you cry when you think about Lexa”- to her looking at an image of Lexa’s memory of her, reminicing but having no emotional response to it, and brushing it off while sharing a soft look with Gaia (and this is a few days since s6? I don’t know how this timeline is working but Tbh it’s not like these writers ever concerned themselves with ‘realistic time frames’ anyway lol). Yep, Jason’s seasons are individual “movies,” alright.

Other *nodding approvingly* moments

— Raven’s subtle “elevator eyes” on Clarke when she started giving her orders again. I see you, Miss Reyes, and I appreciate you.

— Raven + the foot in her mouth and the cute way she catches herself both times. I just love watching characters fail at existing LOL. She was feeling more human than stereotype or plot device this episode.

— "Mommy and Auntie O” and the implication that Hope is a child inside an aged-up body.

— This quote: “I know what it’s like to lose your family 100 years ago and yesterday at the same time.” It’s so literal but I like it a lot.

— Clarke being ‘leader’ again is, as usual, solely a matter of convinient (and familial/love) circumstances and it felt very true.

The Rest

— The Eligius Situation. So Clarke and her inner circle conquer and live in a nice home, and we’re specifically told Clarke takes the master suite (and the dog), and I was like ‘fair enough’ but then she orders prison labour. She tells them to build her a compound that they won’t actually get to be apart of, and to live in tents while they do so. They aren’t getting anything out of this (before they resist and set their own terms). This is slavery. Also, those aren’t her people to boss around, look down on, and use accordingly for her own gain (in fact they barely know her or why she’s gone from being that one unloyal woman who executed their men and got herself captured like an idiot, then couldn’t make up her mind about which side she wanted to kill- to one in the uppermost position of authority...like...they woke up yesterday) But, then again, that never stopped her.

— Too much and not enough at the same time. The pacing of the episode in general was awful. Too much happening in quick succession, no breathing room, too many factions (no, actually Raven, where is ALIE when you need her? smh). I blink, I miss an entire scene and a character is now beating someone else up. Amazingly, i was still bored 90% of the time.

— The Children of Gabriel calling themselves “The Children of Gabriel.” It was always goofy, even more so when a grown man is saying it.

— Murphy + his self loathing over Abby’s death. Did I miss the part where she was ever good to him? One of their final moments together was of her telling him he deserved to die over Clarke after she spent the entire series treating him like he was inferior and disposable. uhhhhhhhhhh.

— The picnic scene. Jackson’s sudden violent outburst was unearned (it wasn’t even set up???), and also disrespectful. Wrong place, wrong time, bro. He’s grieving? Okay. But when Abby’s daughter is sitting right in front of you, making this about you, ruining a perfectly good toast in her honour with your uncomfortable accusations loses you points you never even had to begin with. And this is a ‘me’ thing but I can’t be bothered to be sympathetic when this is about Abby Griffin.

Also, I have to say it. Eliza’s acting took me out of the scene every time I looked at Clarke. I couldn’t for the life of me work out what those expressions were supposed to be.

— Russell, his manpain, and a fury over the consiquences of his own actions that could rival the grounders (”my brother died in your ring of fire [while he was trying to murder you all]” hmm sounds like a you problem). But the worst part is, I simply couldn’t tell where he stood or what he was feeling. He’s so one-dimensional. He’s an evil man (so much for ”grey morality”).

— Clarke + Jordan. A small point to make but all Clarke has done since Marper made her ‘Godmother’ of their son has blame him for everything bad happening lol. Marper loses a lot of my respect as time goes on for that choice. As much as I dislike Jordan’s presence in the show, still not a great pattern to have noticed.

— Raven seeking approval from Clarke (specifically) for the Prime idea was...weird and very bad. When has Raven ever cared for Clarke’s validation, especially in the last few seasons?

Was also taken aback by how Indra and Miller are both suddenly so protective of Clarke, like i can make sense of the Indra part even though it relies on me making things up that aren’t supported by what’s on screen, but Miller?

— (Bonus moment that was bad for me, but not for the same reason it was for the rest of you: the scene of Hope finding the message in her arm. When she was removing the blood-soaked bandage I freaked out because I thought she was peeling her skin off. You’re welcome for that visual.)

The Mixed/No Feelings

— Clarke’s full-dark-no-stars. How many times have they told me now she’s “the head”? LMAO.

I have no actual formed opinion on it. Only disjointed thoughts. Like i might’ve just gone “good for her” if Clarke wasn’t the person she is, with the history she has.

I appreciate the idea, to have her spend the whole episode declaring she is, in fact, completely fine, to end it having her explode with the repressed pain.

I mean...i realise the cognition behind it, but it’s eye-roll inducing at this point. This- kicking Russell to death (giving him exactly what he wanted and set out to provoke), and burning down a palace she promised to keep intact, once again going against the group to do her own Thing that they all ultimately have the suffer the consiquences of and help clean up- is just a repeat of past patterns, and Monty’s “do better” mantra that she desperately clung to like she owned it last season is nowhere in sight.

(Also, I can’t be the only one who spotted her physically smacking that Sanctum girl as she walked onto the balcony? Not cool. Wasn’t cool when Murphy acted like a dick to one of them either this episode.)

The rushed switch did a number on me, too, like Jackson’s did. Literally five minutes before she was preaching about a peaceful life for Madi that doesn’t take revenge (I think I know what they were going for with that but it just left me feeling confused and frustrated).

Furthermore, I’ve seen talk that this was her “burning down of a symbol of oppression”, something she experienced first hand (not so unlike Blodreina and the bunker she desperately wanted to escape and deliver her people from), but there was no noble, calculated intention there. She burned the palace accidentally in her rage because she was in pain and disorientated. The moral stuff was just an after effect.

The speech was also very ‘Clarke’. Feeling entitled to and making decisions on who lives and dies right after declaring this wasn’t their kill to make. She wasn’t the only person hurt by the Primes (but we’ve also been given no reason to care about any of the other victims- the manipulated, enslaved population have been turned into a joke and a punching bag for the main characters which...isn’t great either). And the castle could’ve been used to shelter some of the “too many people” we had problems with through the episode (or used to harvest resources from). It really comes down to if i think the situation justifies the reaction and if i hold her wholely responsible...and this is the part where i reiterate that i have no intact opinion and don’t actually care to have one either ha.

#the 100 s7 #7x01 discussion #the 100 7x01

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aleteia-ff · 5 years

Text

1000 followers! | The Phantom of the Archipelago - Sneak Preview

Ohhh, yes!

Thank you, everyone, for your support. This week, I passed the milestone of 1000 Tumblr followers. I have only been on this website for 11 months by now and the amount of love and support I’ve received from this community, the people I’ve gotten to know... I’m so happy I joined! <3

Now, because you guys make me so happy, I want to do something back. And since a lot of you probably started following me because of The Phantom of the Arena, I wanted it to be related to that fic. And although I’m still working on building enough buffer of it’s sequel, The Phantom of the Archipelago, before I actually start posting, I figured I could at least share the draft of one scene from one of the first chapters.

To say it’s a major scene would be an understatement.

Obviously, spoilers below the Keep Reading line ;)

And just a reminder that my ask box is always open! I might take some time to answer them, but in the end I always will. And I will try my hardest to work through some of the asks still in there.

You can also always find me on Discord in the #aleteias-fics channel!

Hiccup let his gaze wander towards the far side of the island, intuitively scanning Berk’s dense forests for the little clearing in the middle of the trees. For the place he’d loved, and had later come to hate because of how his father had tainted it. But when his eyes found the all-too-familiar spot with ease, he decided that it wouldn’t be that bad to revisit after all.

He nudged Toothless to glide downwards, the two of them staying low and circling the cliffs before soaring over the treetops. Not that anyone was ever looking towards the sky the way Hiccup did, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Especially on a clear and sunny day like this.

Or perhaps that had changed too over the past couple of years.

Toothless warbled happily when they descended into the cove. Hiccup rolled his eyes, patting the dragon’s neck. “As if you didn’t know where we were going already. You’re flying this thing too, remember?”

They circled around to confirm they were indeed alone, and then skimmed over the pond, the tips of Toothless’ wings just breaking the water’s surface. Hiccup took off his right glove, leaning sidewards to let his scarred fingertips trail through the fresh water, sending a shiver down his spine. He released the straps that secured his feet to the pedals, readying himself to dismount. He didn’t use the straps that often these days, but they were a welcome safety measure when spying on villages, hanging from a cliff. Although he’d definitely let himself drop on purpose a few times, as an excuse to use his own wings.

It was all about danger assessment. And after eleven years of flying, there wasn’t much that could surprise him anymore.

He yelped when that thought was immediately proven wrong as Toothless made an abrupt tight turn, sending him flying all on his own. He realised reaching for his wings was futile just before he hit the water with a loud splash!.

He gasped as he came back up for air, frantically looking around from behind the hair stuck to his forehead in search of an explanation. And broke into a chuckle when he caught sight of his drenched dragon, wading towards him with a proud, gummy smile.

“Good to see at least one of us hasn’t grown up since we first ‘flew’ together all those years ago,” he teased.

Toothless moved one of his wings, but Hiccup ducked under water, avoiding the retaliatory splash, throwing water right back at his best friend when he came back up.

They continued to wrestle and tease each other, both of them somehow ending up even more drenched than before, until Hiccup decided he was done and swam towards the shore. Toothless gave his best Scauldron impression as his rider got out, almost making him fall flat on his face when the water hit his back. He stuck out his tongue towards the dragon, removed his helmet, and shook his head, getting rid of most of the water as he took apart Inferno, confirming none of its vital parts had been soaked. Some of it needed oiling - and he couldn’t wait to get around to that - but not like this.

He looked around, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips as he surveyed the cove. It was exactly like he remembered. Frozen in time, the only thing that had changed in the past eleven years the removal of the shield he’d clumsily lodged between two rocks at its entrance, and of course, his remembrance stone.

In honour of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Berk’s Bravest Dragon Killer

He found he no longer minded the text. Because it was finally true. And if people chose to remember him for killing that one dragon that had tormented them for so many generations, then he’d settle for that. It was a lot better than being remembered as a Viking-hating terrorist, he supposed.

He sat back against the stone, comfortably leaning against it as Toothless continued to splash around behind him.

“It feels good to be here again,” he murmured to himself. “Now that the memories are no longer tainted, and I can just… Enjoy them.”

He remembered it all like it was only yesterday. How he’d been both scared and then incredibly excited to find Toothless there on that first day, wondering why the dragon was sticking around before he’d spotted his missing tail, instantly realising he’d done that and, more disturbingly, that he felt incredibly sorry for it.

How they’d locked eyes from a distance, and how that look had stayed with him from that moment on. Prompting him to seek out the dragon again the next day and end up swallowing a way too large bite of slimy, raw, regurgitated fish.

It had only been uphill from there… All the afternoons he’d spent in the cove, observing Toothless, learning who he was and interacting with him, closing that gap bit by bit until it had felt no more than simply right - although still thoroughly nerve-wracking - to extend his palm towards the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. And how his entire world had changed when Toothless had pressed his snout against it.

He trailed the scars on his face with his left hand, once again mapping out every line as if he hadn’t already memorised them long ago. He’d been through a lot since he’d met Toothless. Lost a lot. But it was the one thing he’d do again, and again, no matter how many new attempts at life he might get. Because he couldn’t imagine a world without his best friend in it.

“I love you, Bud,” he told the dragon, who warbled a ‘I love you too’ in return.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face as he waited for his hair and armour to dry, allowing himself to slightly doze off. He went back to those first attempts at getting Toothless back into the air, at all the failures they’d gone through before they’d actually made it out of the cove. Let alone gone for an actual flight, the first of which had gone anything but smoothly. But he’d enjoyed every second of it. The wind on his face, the saltiness of the sea in his nostrils, the two people shouting in the distance…

His eyes flew open and he put up his hand. Toothless instantly stopped moving, not a sound in the air for a mere moment. And then he heard it. A clear, audible “Wait up!”, echoing through the forest. Louder than before.

Coming towards them.

“Hide!” he hissed at Toothless as he scrambled to his feet, the distance between them too big for them to reconnect and fly away unseen. He sprinted after his dragon, the two of them disappearing behind a boulder in the back end of the cove. He snuck a look over his shoulder, spotting a figure at the top of the cove’s entrance.

A child.

He held his breath, peeking from the shadows, but the kid didn’t seem to have seen him, or the large black dragon currently breathing down his neck. Good. Now he just had to get out of here unseen as well.

“Hey, H!” - Hiccup’s heart skipped a beat, before he realised the kid’s name probably started with an H - “Not so fast!” he heard, coming from the forest once again.

He furrowed his brows, a surprised whisper escaping him. “Tuffnut?”

“I can do it myself!” the child - a boy - shouted back before he started to make his way down the cliff at the cove’s entrance.

“I know you can, but your mother will kill me if I let you,” the man repeated, and surely, Tuffnut Thorston appeared at the top of the cliff, gesturing at the boy, who was climbing down a lot faster than Hiccup would have assumed a child his size could.

“Tuffnut has a son?” he murmured, but Toothless just huffed, also clueless. “Kid doesn’t look much like him.”

Based on his length, the boy couldn’t be older than four, five at best. So he’d likely been born after the Phantom had left Berk. He searched his memory, wondering if he’d ever seen Tuffnut with a woman whose hair remotely resembled the kid’s unruly mop of auburn. He’d seen Tuffnut with many children today and yesterday, but when it came to a wife, he came up empty-handed.

“I didn’t think he even liked women to begin with,” he confessed, grinningly recalling the time Tuffnut had unknowingly flirted with the Phantom. “Guess we learn something new every day.”

“Then I want to fly down,” the boy insisted, pausing on the edge of one of the rocks, leaning forward and peering down in a way that made Hiccup’s stomach churn.

Tuffnut caught up with him, grabbing the boy’s arm and gently pulling him back. “You can’t fly. You’re not a dragon.”

“But I want to be a dragon!”

Tuffnut knelt down, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “And I will still love you even if your breath smells like rotten fish, Little Hamster. But if you want to fly, you should grow some wings first.”

“So I should eat more raw fish?”

Hiccup grinned. Clever boy.

“No, then you’ll get sick, and we don’t want that, now do we?” The boy shook his head, his hair flopping around. “Although between you and me, it’s probably not that much worse than your mom’s cooking.”

“Berkian women and being bad cooks. Name a better duo,” Hiccup chuckled. He’d understood from his dad that his mom hadn’t been stellar, and Astrid surely couldn’t be called remotely talented either. He thought back to the fish stew she’d once tried to make, and instantly felt sympathy for Tuffnut’s situation.

The boy laughed loudly. “I’m gonna tell Mum you said that!”

“Go ahead, snitch,” Tuffnut teased, poking the boy’s chest. “I can take her on any day.”

The boy shook his head. “You can’t! No one can!”

“Are you doubting my mighty Thorston blood? There’s ‘Thor’ in my name for a reason, you know!” Tuffnut caught the boy in his arms, tickling him. “Are you, huh?”

“Stop!” the boy laughed, swatting at his father. “Uncle Tuff!”

Or not his father, then.

Hiccup bit his lip. Perhaps he was one of Ruffnut’s, then? But he thought he’d seen Snotlout with a girl of about the same age as the boy… Twins, then? They did run in the Thorston family, after all. Or perhaps they were siblings who weren’t that far apart, and one of them looked a lot older or younger than they actually were.

He felt he should leave, that he was peeking at something private, something he shouldn’t see. But he simply couldn’t. Instead, he quietly retrieved one of his Changewing skins and hung it over his head, allowing him to blend in with his surroundings and creep forward so he could get a better look. Behind him, Toothless warbled curiously, but he nudged the dragon back with his foot, telling him it wasn’t safe enough.

“Alright, wait here,” Tuffnut told the boy before he climbed down the remaining rocks, opening up his arms when he reached the bottom. “Ready when you are!”

The boy leapt forward, landing in Tuffnut’s arms. He spun the two of them around, keeping the boy high up in the air, making him squeal in delight until he finally put him down, Tuffnut visibly swaying on his feet as he tried to regain his balance.

Hiccup could see the comedic duo more clearly now. Tuffnut was still wearing his usual disorganised combination of a tunic, vest and lustrous assortment of spiked accessories. The boy was dressed way more conservatively, in a dark red tunic, half of it tucked into a pair of brown pants, the other half unintentionally hanging out, a leather satchel with the crest of Berk on it slung over his shoulder. Hiccup had always had good eyes - Astrid had noticed he could make out certain details from high up in the air, while she couldn’t - allowing him to spot the smattering of freckles on the bridge of the boy’s small nose, the tips of his big ears peeking through his copper hair and his forest green eyes, which curiously taking in his surroundings.

In a way, the boy struck him as oddly familiar. Then again, he had likely once met a Thorston who looked just like him, given how colourful and diverse - not just mentally - the family was. Tuffnut and Ruffnut were rather tame by comparison. Or so he’d been told, by enough sources to make the stories believable.

“Go on,” Tuffnut gestured in front of him as he sat down in the grass. “We’re here for you, after all.”

The boy adamantly shook his head. “Not for me. For Daddy.”

“Because you want to talk to him, Hamish,” Tuffnut pointed out.

Hamish. Huh. Hiccup could understand that name becoming fashionable again after he’d personally destroyed the portraits of his ancestors, Hamish I and Hamish II, five years ago. But it seemed like such an usual name for Ruffnut and Snotlout to give to their son. Especially if he was their firstborn son; then he was Snotlout’s heir… It’d be more logical for him to be named in the -lout tradition, but perhaps they had wanted to give off a clear sign by naming him after the great Haddock Chiefs, who had been defiled by their actual descendant.

How un-Thorstonly political.

The boy nodded and slowly walked forward to the edge of the pond, looking down and fidgeting with his hands. Eventually, he stopped in front of Hiccup’s remembrance stone, a bright lop-sided smile spreading across his face. “Hey Daddy.”

Hiccup furrowed his brows, because all of this was only making less and less sense the longer he watched. Was the boy’s father dead? And had his stone become a place to go to to think of other dead, or presumed-dead, people? Or those who simply weren’t around?

“Mama’s not here, but she said it’s okay if I go alone,” the boy - Hamish - continued.

Only to be corrected by Tuffnut. “If someone else goes with you!”

Hamish huffed, looking at Tuffnut. “But I know the way!”

“And you can go alone when you’re older. Until then, you can show an adult how to get here whenever you want,” Tuffnut quipped.

“I’m old enough,” Hamish insisted.

“I disagree. And so does your mother. And while she’s not the boss of me, she’s certainly the boss of you.”

Hamish frowned angrily, but Tuffnut simply grinned at him in response. “So what did you want to say to your dad?”

The boy wavered for a moment, his brows furrowed as he seemed to be thinking, but then his face opened up into a wide smile. He fumbled with his satchel, retrieving something black from it, and walked closer to the stone, proudly holding it up. Hiccup squinted, trying to make out what it was. And then the boy spoke.

“Look, Daddy, I brought Mini-Toothless!”

He only vaguely heard how Toothless purred in response to his name. Because right then, the ground underneath him disappeared, and the entire world along with it. Until there was nothing left but that boy, and the little statuette he held in his hands.

Of a Night Fury.

Which he’d carved and painted for Astrid as a Snoggletog present over five years ago.

“Mummy told me to take care of him while she’s gone -”

The boy’s mother was gone.

He’d given that statuette to Astrid.

And Astrid was gone too.

That boy was Astrid’s son.

But he didn’t have her beautiful blonde hair, her gorgeous blue eyes, her adorable but slightly oversized ears - no, he did have those, so Hamish could be hers, but then where did he get the rest? Hiccup thought she’d waited for him, that she…

“- like you take care of real Toothless!”

You.

The boy was talking to his father.

Who probably had auburn hair, and a pair of green eyes.

Who wasn’t there.

Whose dragon, named Toothless, was worriedly nudging Hiccup’s side, sensing his rider’s distress.

The boy was talking to him.

Because he was his father.

He hardly heard what the boy - Hamish, his son, named after his ancestors - said after that. He simply stared, unable to move, his breath coming out in short pants. Hamish rambled, his tiny hands moving along as he talked, as if this was completely ordinary to him, as if Hiccup’s - as if his father’s - world wasn’t completely falling apart at that very moment. Because it didn’t make sense.

How?

How…?

How!?

He crumbled to the ground, pressing his hands to his ears, because he couldn’t listen, because this wasn’t happening. The Gods were playing a trick on him, or his mind was, yet again. He was seeing things, hearing things, deluding himself into picturing something that wasn’t there. That didn’t exist, that wasn’t true, because it couldn’t be true. He would’ve known if Astrid had been pregnant, he would’ve known if he was a father, she would have told him, he would have felt it.

It couldn’t be real. But no matter how often he pinched himself, they didn’t go away. The boy, Tuffnut, and the tiny wooden Night Fury stayed where they were. He wanted to flee, but he couldn’t, they would see him, and he didn’t know what happened if delusions spotted the person who was deluding them, not that that thought made much sense -

Oh Gods.

Oh, Gods.

He turned his eyes towards the sky, trying to snap himself out of it, to focus on anything but the scene in front of him. But the sun moved too slowly, and time along with it, so he wasted away, waiting, praying, asking the Gods what they’d brought down on him this time, until finally, his nightmarish visions left.

After scoldingly calling out the boy’s full name, Tuffnut picked him up, and, although reluctantly, the boy eventually stopped struggling, keeping Mini-Toothless clutched to his chest as Tuffnut carried him towards the cove’s exit. They exchanged some words, and the boy waved in the direction of the pond.

Hiccup only just prevented himself from waving back.

He couldn’t banish the boy’s name from his mind. Not even after he and Tuffnut had left, and Hiccup had jumped on Toothless’ back. Not even after they took to the air, the wind in his face not waking him up like he’d hoped it would.

So he simply flew West. Hoping to go back to the nightmare he’d come from. The one he was familiar with, the one he could deal with. Because he couldn’t handle this one.

Hamish Hofferson.

#phantom2 #phantom #phantom of the arena #pota #pota2 #phantomverse #phantomcup au #hiccstrid #hiccup #phantom!hiccup au #aleteia-writes #i would die for hamish hofferson #tuffnut #uncle tuff #uncle tuffnut

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pikapeppa · 5 years

Text

Cullavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Adventure

Chapter 19 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is liiiiive! Only the first section is posted here; read the whole chapter on AO3.

In which Cullen has a true friend in Rylen. and Fenris has a true friend in Piper, even if he is big mad. 😬

ADORABLE ART as always by our beloved artiste extraordinaire @schoute!!

- PIPER -

Piper gazed fondly at Cullen’s stern and stoic face until he looked at her.

He raised his eyebrows and unfolded his arms. “What is it? Are you all right?”

She smiled and patted his arm. “Rylen will be here soon. Don’t fret.”

Cullen released a heavy exhale. “There’s no need for him to come here just to say goodbye. I could have bade him farewell at the navy headquarters after the verdict yesterday.” He frowned at the glum Darktown docks where he and Piper were waiting. “They may suspect him of smuggling or some such crime if they know he came here.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Piper said confidently.

Cullen turned his frown to her. “What do you mean, I don’t have to worry about that?”

She shrugged casually, and Cullen tilted his head. “Piper, what have you done?”

She pressed a hand to her chest in an imitation of Rynne’s most innocent mien. “Me?” she said. “Golden Boy, you besmirch my honour by suggesting I’d ever get up to any sort of trouble.”

He scoffed. “Piper, if elves had middle names, yours would be Trouble.”

“Wrong,” she sang. “It would be Rowdy. Varric said so.”

Cullen chuckled, and Piper smiled triumphantly at him, pleased to have wiped away his frown. After all, he really didn’t have anything to worry about when it came to Rylen.

A moment later, Cullen straightened in relief. “There he is. Finally.”

Piper looked up. Rylen was striding toward them dressed in his navy uniform and carrying a large seabag over his shoulder.

He nodded to Piper as they approached. “Captain,” he said.

She nodded in return. “Sailor,” she said. “Ready to depart?”

Cullen did a double-take at her. “Wait. What was that?”

Piper folded her arms and smiled smugly. “Rylen is coming with us. The crew corrupted him with their pirate-y ways.”

“That’s not quite the reason, but yes,” Rylen confirmed. “I’m joining Captain Lavellan’s crew.”

Piper punched his arm. “You’ll have to lose the manners on my ship, Rylen. That polite shit just won’t do.”

Cullen, meanwhile, was still gaping at them both in disbelief, and Piper beamed at him and patted his arm. “Come on, Cullen, we weren’t really going to leave without the good lieutenant. Former lieutenant,” she amended.

Cullen swallowed hard and looked at Rylen. “But… the navy,” he said feebly. “You… you didn’t apply to resign. You’re… deserting the Kirkwall Navy?”

Rylen adjusted his seabag and nodded. “Yes, sir. No time to prepare my application, but no matter. And Captain Mad Piper–”

“That’s more like it,” Piper interjected.

“–said she could use the extra set of hands on deck,” Rylen finished.

Cullen stared at him for a moment longer, then turned to Piper. “You didn’t tell me.”

His eyes were shining, and Piper fondly stroked his cheek. “I wanted to surprise you,” she said. “A ‘welcome to the ship’ sort of thing–”

He grabbed her and kissed her, cutting off her words. Surprised and delighted, Piper clasped his face and kissed him back, then laughed as he released her almost as abruptly as he’d pulled her close.

“Maker’s breath. I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I – that was very, er – my apologies…” He rubbed his mouth and glanced apologetically at Rylen, and Piper laughed even harder at his bright red cheeks.

He took a deep breath, then held out his hand to Rylen. “Lieuten– Rylen. I’m pleased you’ll be joining us.”

Rylen smirked as he shook Cullen’s hand. Then Cullen shook his head slightly. “Oh, for Maker’s sake,” he muttered, and he pulled Rylen into a hug.

Rylen cleared his throat gruffly and patted Cullen on the back, and Piper beamed at them. She patted their shoulders and started to chivvy them toward the dinghy. “Come on, you saps, let’s get moving. The winds are calling us back to the sea. There’s no time to waste.”

Cullen gave her a sheepish little smile as he and Rylen broke apart, and Piper squeezed his hand affectionately. Needless to say, it seemed like Cullen’s – and Rylen’s – first day as pirates was off to an auspicious start.

*********************************

Piper strolled over to the table behind the helm where Varric, Dorian and Cole were waiting. She shoved Dorian’s feet off of the table and sat in the spot where his feet had been. “All right, gentlemen, are we ready to set sail?”

Varric nodded a greeting to Cullen and Rylen, who had followed Piper up to the helm. “Ready when you are, Cap,” he said affably. “Where are we headed next?”

“No idea,” Piper said cheerfully.

Varric huffed in amusement, and Cullen raised his eyebrows. “Really? You have no plans?”

Dorian snorted delicately. “Typical. Fetch me when you have something for me to do, will you?” He rose from his chair and waved for Cole to join him.

Cole blinked at Piper as he and Dorian passed her by. “Follow the call of the wind. A howl in the heart guiding you to the shining places.”

Piper patted his shoulder. “Thanks, Cole. We’ll do that.”

He smiled vaguely at her, then followed Dorian down the stairs. Cullen gave her a quizzical look. “What was he talking about?”

She shrugged. “Haven’t got a clue. He’s a fantastic barrelman, but he marches to the beat of his own drum.” She waved for Rylen and Cullen to take Dorian and Cole’s empty chairs, then turned to Varric again. “We should probably raid a slaver ship soon. The crew have been awfully patient with me, but they’re due some downtime.”

“Raid a ship?” Cullen said.

“Of course,” Piper said. “Downtime requires coin.” She rubbed her fingers together and wiggled her eyebrows.

Cullen blew out a breath and gave Rylen a worried look, and Piper reached over and squeezed Cullen’s hand. “They’re slavers, Cullen. It’s what they deserve,” she said firmly. “Believe me, you’ll agree when you see the inside of their ships.”

“No, I understand,” Cullen said quickly. “I – we have dealt with slaver’s ships before. It is simply a… a shift of perspective, that’s all.”

“Exactly,” Piper said. “No navy rules here. No prisoners. Slavers get no fucking mercy from the Lady Luck.”

Cullen nodded. Then Varric leaned his elbows on the table. “The hull could use a good cleaning first,” he said to Piper. “The ship is getting pretty slow.”

Piper gasped mockingly. “How dare you speak of a lady in such terms!”

He raised one sardonic eyebrow, and she chuckled and slid off the table. “You’re right, of course. Let’s stop off at that little bay on Brandel’s Reach and careen her.”

Rylen chuckled. “That’s really why you wanted me on board, isn’t it? Another pair of hands to scrape the hull?”

She playfully punched his arm. “Obviously. If you scrape the hull, then I don’t have to.”

Just then, Rynne bounced up onto the stern to join them. To Piper’s total lack of surprise, Fenris was following in her wake.

“Rylen!” she said brightly. “How lovely to see you! I didn’t know you were joining the crew.”

“I am indeed,” he said. “In fact, I have something for you.” He rose from his seat and knelt beside his seabag, then pulled out a large bundle and handed it to Rynne.

The bundle was roughly wrapped in plain paper and tied with string, and Rynne’s eyes were wide as she took it. “For me? You shouldn’t have,” she said playfully, but her expression was painted with surprise.

“It’s from Carver,” Rylen clarified. “He gave it to me this morning. That’s why I was running late,” he said apologetically to Piper and Cullen.

Piper raised her eyebrows at Rynne. “I thought your brother was pissed about you joining the crew.”

“He was,” Rynne said blankly. She poked the bundle experimentally, then smiled up at Fenris. “This doesn’t feel like a package of angry diatribe. I wonder what it could be?” She placed the bundle on the table and started picking at the knotted twine.

Fenris frowned slightly. “You don’t want to open it in private?”

Rynne paused and gave him a grateful smile, and Piper raised one eyebrow at the subtext in her smile. “It’s fine,” she assured Fenris. “I’m sure it’s nothing very important.” She turned back to the packet and untied it, then unwrapped the paper and promptly started laughing. “Oh Carver, you berk.”

Piper raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s… practical,” she said sardonically. The package contained three dresses: one of blue velvet trimmed with lace and pearls, and two others that were less decorative but just as clearly expensive.

Varric chuckled, then rose from the table. “Well, I’m going to get the crew moving so we can cast off.” He patted Hawke’s elbow as he passed her by. “We’ll look forward to seeing you sparring with Fenris in one of those.”

Fenris grunted and folded his arms. “Absolutely not. They’re a tripping hazard.”

Rynne grinned at him. She was holding the blue velvet dress up to her front. “Are you sure, Fenris? I think we should try. I don’t know if an enemy’s blades would penetrate this corset. The boning on this fucker is hardy, believe me.”

Fenris shook his head in exasperation, and Cullen cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps I will help Rylen to settle in,” he said. He nodded a polite farewell to Fenris and Rynne, then smiled at Piper. “Call me if you require my help?” he said.

She affectionately tugged his collar. “You know I will,” she purred.

His smile broadened and his cheeks turned slightly pink, and Piper happily stared at his bum as he and Rylen walked away. Then she returned her attention to Rynne, who was holding one of the plainer dresses against her chest and swaying playfully from side to side while she grinned at Fenris.

“What about this one?” she said. “There’s a little less pouf to this one. I think he was actually trying to be helpful by sending this one.” She adopted a mockingly deep and cranky voice. “‘Ladies don’t wear trousers, Rynne, but you can wear this skirt without petticoats and I won’t tell Mother.’”

“Your mother’s opinion holds no value,” Fenris said. “You know that.”

Piper shot him an odd look. That was a weirdly blunt and serious thing to say, considering how playful Rynne was being. Even more oddly, though, Rynne dropped her playful behaviour and gave him another grateful look. “I know,” she said softly. She reached up and pinched his chin. “I’m just being an idiot, I promise.”

He huffed, then shifted closer to the table and away from Rynne, and Piper watched with growing exasperation as Rynne’s expression became wistful. Then Fenris shifted the last dress aside and picked up another item from the bundle.

It was a small leather pouch made of dark leather, obviously expensive and well-crafted, with Rynne’s family crest stamped on the front. Fenris handed it to Rynne, whose face had fallen into a look of unguarded surprise.

Unable to stand the suspense, Piper drifted over beside her. “What’s that?” she asked.

Rynne swallowed. For the first time since opening the bundle, she looked serious. “It was my father’s,” she said. “He gave it to Carver on his eighteenth birthday.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows, and Piper frowned worriedly at Rynne. “Did your father pass away?” she asked gently.

“Oh, no no,” Rynne said hurriedly. “He’s a naturalist. He does field research. Scientific journeys, you know. We rarely see him.” She opened the pouch slowly, and her eyes widened further. “It’s… full of coin,” she said blankly. “And a note…?” She pulled a small folded piece of parchment from the pouch.

Piper grimaced and took a step back so Rynne could have her privacy. But as Rynne unfolded the note and read it, Piper noticed that Fenris was watching Rynne with a deep frown.

A deep, concerned-looking frown that did not look like ‘just friends’.

She folded her arms knowingly, but declined to say anything for now. A moment later, Rynne tucked the note into the pocket of her trousers.

Piper raised her eyebrows. Rynne’s expression was very pleasant – almost weirdly pleasant, especially contrasted with Fenris’s worried scowl.

“Bad news from your brother?” Piper said.

“Not at all!” Rynne said cheerfully. She placed the coin pouch on the messy pile of dresses on the table, then started haphazardly gathering the items together in her arms. “I’m going to put all of this away for now. I can probably sell the dresses, right?”

“Yes, if you want to,” Piper said. “You could fetch a solid thirty royals at least for that velvet one. Or we could keep them for disguises.”

Rynne perked up. “Disguises? For what?”

Piper smiled mischievously. “Oh, you know. Sneaking into towns where we’re not wanted, crashing weddings so we can steal their best stuff, that sort of thing.”

Rynne threw her head back and laughed. “That’s marvelous! All right, I’ll keep the dresses. Can I hang them in your armoire?”

“Of course,” Piper said.

Rynne beamed at her, but before she could leave the stern, Fenris stepped close to her. He lowered his voice, but not so much that Piper couldn’t hear.

“Carver doesn’t know everything,” he told Rynne. “His opinion is uninformed.”

Piper listened with growing curiosity as Rynne smiled cheekily at him. “And what if his note just said I’m the most amazing and clever sister he’s ever had?”

Fenris tilted his head chidingly, and Rynne’s smile softened. “I’m fine, Fenris,” she said. “Everything’s fine.” She winked at Piper, then skipped down the stairs with her dresses and coin pouch in her arms.

Fenris watched her walking away, and Piper stared pointedly at his mopey-mabari face until he turned to look at her. She raised her eyebrows, and he scowled.

“Don’t start,” he grunted.

“All right then. You start,” she said. She sat on the table again. “What’s going on with the two of you?”

“Nothing,” he said. “There is nothing going on.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “And nugs can fucking fly.”

His lip curled in irritation, and Piper gave him an arch look. “Come on, Fen. I can see how much you care about her. And she likes you so much,” she drawled. “Mythal only knows why, since you’re so cranky with her. Why don’t you just–”

“This is none of your business,” he snapped. “Why are you pushing? You never do this.”

Piper blinked. That was true, actually. It wasn’t her and Fenris’s way to push or pry at each other’s personal business. Their entire friendship was largely premised on unspoken understandings and little hints of information that they’d dropped on each other over the past year.

But that was weird, wasn’t it? Fenris felt like a brother to her. He always had her back, even when he thought she was being impulsive and foolish, and she always had his. Why didn’t they talk about this stuff?

She slid off the table and took a step toward him. “Maybe I should be pushing. Maybe that’s a problem.”

He tsked and turned away from her. Undaunted, she approached him and peered at his angry profile. “Come on, Fenris, don’t you think it’s weird that you’ve been with my crew for over a year and the most personal thing I know about you is that you have a sister?”

“Stop,” he snapped. He started walking away down the stairs.

She followed him as he strode toward the rack of practice weapons by the bow. “Fine. No family talk,” she conceded. “But look, you’re my friend. Rynne is my friend.” She shrugged innocently. “I just want my friends to be happy and to fuck each other on my lovely ship.”

He shot her a dirty look. “What is it with you and this fantasy of turning the Lady Luck into some sort of perpetual bacchanalia?”

She gave him a frank look. “Listen, any boat is suitable for fucking. The Lady Luck is just more suitable than most.” She waved her hands dreamily in the air. “She’s just got this aura that calls for everyone to get naked–”

“Venhedis fasta vass,” he muttered.

Piper darted in front of him, forcing him to stop. “She thinks you’re not interested. Is that true?”

He glared at her, but the tips of his ears were turning red. He stepped around her without answering and approached the weapons rack, and Piper doggedly followed him.

“All right, your ears say you’re interested,” she said. “Why does she think you aren’t? Did you tell her you aren’t?”

“I said it is none of your business,” he snarled. He selected a blunted dagger from the rack.

Piper gazed at him steadily. “You’re giving mixed signals. Even I’m confused.” She selected a practice épée from the second rack, then stepped away from him and lifted her chin.

He narrowed his eyes at her, then selected a second dagger and turned to face her.

They stared at each other for a couple of tense seconds. Then Piper lashed out with her sword.

Fenris recognized the feint and dodged, stepping quickly toward her to try and close the gap, and Piper dodged back swiftly. Their blades rang together as she parried a trio of vicious slashes from Fenris’s dual daggers, then she rolled across the deck and sprang to her feet behind him with her épée drawn back to thrust–

CLANG. Fenris spun swiftly and blocked her strike with his daggers crossed. They froze in a draw, and Piper met his eye through their crossed blades.

“You’re both going to go fucking nuts if you keep this up,” she panted.

He glared at her in silence. A moment later, they both lowered their weapons, and Fenris rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

“I can’t,” he said suddenly.

She tilted her head in confusion. “Can’t what?”

“I can’t… risk it,” he said slowly. He sounded strained, as though Piper was dragging the words from his stomach against his will.

“Can’t risk what?” she asked.

He curled his lip in frustration, then suddenly lunged at her, swiping with one dagger while bringing the other down in an overhead stab. Piper hastily dodged away from him before swiftly bringing her sword up toward his throat.

CLANG. Her sword hit the crosspiece of his dagger, and they froze again in a draw.

“You took a risk joining my ship,” she said. “Do you regret that?”

“No,” he gritted.

She lowered the épée. “Well, I don’t think you’ll regret it if you tell Rynne how you feel.”

“You don’t know that,” he snapped.

“Of course I don’t know,” she said. “Nobody knows. You think I knew that Cullen was going to stay on the ship when I threw myself at him?”

He shot her a look of surprise, and Piper awkwardly rubbed her nose. The moment the words left her mouth, she felt weird about having said them. She and Fenris had never seriously talked about her feelings for Cullen. Not beyond her dirty comments about Cullen and Fenris’s complaints about her trips to Kirkwall, that was. They’d never had a serious talk about relationship stuff before.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “You thought he might not remain on the Lady Luck?”

She shrugged and scuffed one bare toe on the deck. “I didn’t know for sure.”

Fenris scoffed, and Piper scowled at him. “Hey. Don’t laugh,” she complained. “You’re the one who’s obviously in love with my assistant surgeon and won’t do anything about it, even though she’s gagging for you as well.”

His smirk faded, and he abruptly turned away from her. “I don’t want to speak of this.” He went to return his daggers to the rack.

Piper sighed. He was so fucking stubborn. “Fine. Just… think about it, okay?” she said. “Sometimes it pays to take a chance. Even if you don’t know how it’ll work out.”

He didn’t reply. Piper gazed in exasperation at the defensive hunch of his shoulders for a moment, then called out to him. “Hey. Fen.”

He turned around, and Piper tossed her épée at him. He caught it easily but with a scowl, and Piper casually folded her arms. “Don’t stay pissed at me for long, okay? I love thunderclouds, but not when they’re hovering over your head.” Without waiting for an answer, she sauntered away from him to return to the stern.

She took the stairs to the helm two at a time, then faced the deck and planted her hands on her hips. “All right, my sweet crew of killers! We set sail in ten minutes!” she yelled.

There was a scattered chorus of ‘aye’s as the crew continued to prepare for drawing anchor. Piper plopped down in a chair and slung her feet up on the table while she waited. A couple of minutes later, Merrill hurried up the stairs.

“Captain!” she said. She scurried over to Piper and sat across from her. “Dorian mentioned that we have no set course.”

“Right you are,” Piper said cheerfully. “Do you have someplace in mind?”

“I do, in fact,” Merrill said brightly. “We should try sailing to Arlathan Forest. And before you say no,” she said hurriedly as Piper grimaced, “I wanted to show you what I found on Sundermount during our camping trip.”

Piper snorted. “Oh yeah, the camping trip. How was that, camping with Fenris and Rynne?”

“He made puppy eyes at her every time her back was turned,” Merrill said distractedly. “But look at this.” She pulled a crumpled scroll of parchment from her apron pocket, then flattened it on the table.

Piper slid her feet to the floor and looked at the parchment with interest. It looked like a charcoal rubbing, likely taken from the wall of a cave. “Is that ancient Elvhen?”

“Yes,” Merrill said excitedly. “I’m trying to decipher it, but my ancient Elvhen isn’t nearly as strong as I’d like it to be, and it’s taking time. But this…” She pointed to a set of symbols in the middle of the page. “That’s definitely the Arlathan Forest. And this here…” She pointed to another set of symbols which were less clearly defined. “I think this is the Vir’Tual’salan.”

Piper wracked her brain for a moment. “The Vir’Tual’salan…” She lifted her eyes to Merrill’s face and smiled slowly. “You mean the Fountain of Youth.”

“Technically it means the Way of Renewal, but yes,” Merrill chirped. Her eyes were shining with enthusiasm. “Piper, you know the stories they tell about our people – how the ancient elves used to live forever. No one knows how they lived forever, but if it was the Vir’Tual’salan? Can you imagine if it was real?”

Piper raised an approving eyebrow and propped her feet on the table once more. “Well well. You’re proposing a real fucking adventure here.”

Merrill beamed at her and clasped her hands together. “Oh, I hope so! Can we go?”

Piper grinned at her, then sighed and sobered. “I don’t know, Merrill. The Arlathan Forest is right on the border of Tevinter. We’ve got a lot of former slaves on our crew – I don’t want to expose them to that shit again. You know Fenris doesn’t want anything to do with that place.”

Merrill wilted slightly and gave her a pleading look. “I know, but the Arlathan Forest is a neutral zone. It has been for centuries. There are no Tevinter settlements there.”

Piper made a little face. “‘Unclaimed territory’ isn’t exactly the same as a neutral zone.”

Merrill raised her eyebrows knowingly. “But why do you think it’s unclaimed?”

“Ancient elvhen magic?” Piper suggested, mostly jokingly.

Merrill tutted. “You can laugh, Captain, but I think there’s a reason no one has settled there in hundreds of years.” She rolled the scroll up and rose from the chair. “Will you consider it, at least? I think it could be very exciting. And who knows what sort of treasure we might find?” She raised her eyebrows in a wheedling manner.

Piper chuckled. “Now you’re speaking my language.” She nodded to Merrill. “I’ll speak with the officers and we’ll think about it, all right?”

“That’s wonderful,” Merrill enthused. “Ma serannas, lethallan.” She tucked the scroll back into the pocket of her apron.

“Sathem,” Piper said. Merrill left to return to the galley, and Piper finally rose to her feet and approached the helm.

She fondly stroked the handles of the steering wheel and looked down at the deck, and an instinctive smile stretched across her face.

Cullen was approaching the stairs to the stern. He smiled at her as he ascended the stairs. “Are we ready to set sail?” he asked.

She gazed adoringly at him as he came to stand beside her. His hair was curling slightly from the humidity, and he looked very much at home in his open-collared shirt and vest, and the sight of him looking so much at ease on the Lady Luck made her heart flutter with happiness.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Are you ready?”

He nodded. “I believe I’m ready for another adventure.”

She beamed at him. When they’d first met, he was so stern and tense and buttoned-up. And now, to have her notoriously nervous Golden Boy on her ship saying he was ready for an adventure…

He’d come so far since they had first met. They’d come so far together, and this was still just the beginning.

She released the handles of the helm and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Kiss me,” she said.

His smile broadened, and his cheeks pinkened slightly. “As my Captain commands,” he said, and he laid a sweet and tender kiss on her waiting lips.

Piper grinned more widely still, then reluctantly released her golden-haired lover to grasp the steering wheel once more. “Draw anchor!” she bellowed to the crew.

They saluted and scurried to take their places. Cullen fondly stroked her hair, then took a seat at the table behind the helm to keep her company.

Piper smiled at him, then turned her face to the warm and waiting breeze. “Bring me that horizon,” she whispered to the winds.

Read the rest on AO3, picking up from Fenris’s POV!

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