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[pilot-training]

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[starry-crossing-zone]

Crash and Fall - Rex

Summary: Rex won't give up hope that his Jedi lover is alive after the Jedi Purge. Length: 3.7k Warnings: Mentions of Jedi Purge; Angst; Longing; Clone Rebellion; Special Guest Stars; Mentions of Pregnancy

Rex stood beside the Y Wing as Ahsoka took a moment with his fallen brothers. He typed away at the datapad, attempting to send a long-range message. Across the galaxy, his brothers were murdering the Jedi against their will. And he was frantically trying to get in contact with one specific Jedi so that she did not become the next victim.

It might have been too late already to warn her, but Rex needed to try. He refused to accept defeat.

When the comm failed to go through again, Rex couldn’t help the burst of emotion. Driving his fist onto the top of the Y Wing and tossing the datapad away angrily, he slumped into a crouch. Steadying himself with one hand and resting the other against his face, he didn’t fight the tears.

Ahsoka slowly walked over to him and gave him a moment to gather himself, giving him the space to grieve. Although they had never had a frank conversation about it, Ahsoka understood enough to know why Rex’s inability to get a message out caused him to collapse. Rex slowly lowered his hand from his face and started to stand up again.

“No luck,” Rex replied quietly.

“Where was she stationed last?” Ahsoka asked softly.

“More than halfway across the galaxy,” Rex stated, closing his eyes with despair.

They were too far away to help her. It would take them days to reach her. And he wasn’t even sure if that was her actual last location. Plans changed in a moment in the GAR. It was a start, but it was also more than likely swarmed with his brothers, who would try to murder them the moment that they arrived on the scene.

“There’s still hope, Rex,” Ahsoka replied quietly. “There’s still a chance.”

Rex nodded slowly, not trusting his words, before he turned to the Y Wing again. He climbed into the pilot’s seat and input coordinates to a safe location before starting the take off procedure. And trying to block the images of his beloved with blaster holes in her chest from his mind.

*~*~*~*

Washa was not a heavily populated planet. It was far from the major space lanes and had remained neutral during the war because there was nothing on the planet worth fighting over. It was mostly farmers and traders. No one of importance. Just like the Jedi were of no importance anymore. It was no wonder she fit in so well.

“Two please,” she told the vender, holding out the credits.

“Price just went up actually,” he remarked, turning his two noses up at her. “You need five more.”

She withdrew her hand and looked at the credits. Letting out a sigh, she stowed some of the credits back in her pocket and turned back to the greedy vender.

“Just one then.”

Taking her purchase, she stowed it in her bag and kept walking. She bought rations and some water before making the walk back to the small hut that she now called home. It would have to do, for her true home was gone. Destroyed. Forever. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and tried to meditate.

It had been a month since her own men turned against her. Men that she fought beside for years, thought she knew, men that she was prepared to die with. They raised their blasters at her and tried to kill her. And they had nearly succeeded too.

The scars on her back burned at the painful memory and she forced herself to take a breath. Pushing past the pain that lingered, she tried to connect with the Force again. Resting her hands with her palms upwards, she took a deep breath.

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.”

After she managed to escape the assault and effectively faked her own death, she had all but severed her connection to the Force. To reach out and feel the gaping, open wound quickly overwhelmed her and she had withdrawn into herself to survive.

“I am one with the Force and the Force is—”

She tensed as the nightmares that plagued her while she slept crept into the daylight. Ones that involved a clone in blue-painted armor raising his blasters at her. She shook her head, trying to banish the images, swearing to herself that Rex would never hurt her. She trusted him with her life. She cared for him well beyond the considerations of her culture.

But she trusted Sinker too. And Boost. And Comet. And they had all fired on her just the same.

And when it became too much, as it had countless times before, she broke down, holding her head in her hands as she struggled to hold onto her sanity.

*~*~*~*

“But we managed to save the padawan,” Hunter stated, causing Rex to pick his head up.

“Have you run into any Jedi since?” he asked, sounding more alert.

“No, none.”

Rex nodded slowly, trying to mask his disappointment. He spun his glass around on the bar top, letting his thoughts drift for a moment, before he focused back on the present. Echo, however, noticed the change in his brother.

“You’re looking for her?” Echo asked Rex knowingly. Rex turned to Echo and nodded slowly.  “Tech can look in the Imperial database for you.”

“Already checked. Read the report. She’s . . .”

Rex trailed off, being very careful with his words. He knew what the report said. He’d practically memorized it at this point. But he also knew that these reports weren’t always accurate. He was dead, according to the Empire, so there was still a chance. And a chance was all that he needed. Hope was all that he needed. And it was all he had too.

“There’s a chance . . . and I need to know for myself.”

“I came back from the dead. So could she.” Nodding slowly to show his support for Rex, Echo promised him, “We’ll keep an eye out for her.”

“Thank you, Echo.”

*~*~*~*

When she felt that she had overstayed her welcome back on Washa, she found her way off planet. The number of planets that she would consider both safe and habitable was extremely low, but she managed to find her way to a small moon in the Outer Rim. It was warm, almost jungle-like and full of life. And she hoped that it would help her reconnect with the Force.

Weeks passed and she fell into a routine. There were a few remote villages scattered around the jungle and she made a few tentative acquaintances, but she was always quick to return to her alcove. She had managed to build a small home up in the trees and was starting to settle in.

And that was when the Force decided to pull the rug out from under her all over again.

Dropping her hands from her abdomen, she stared down at them as tears filled her eyes. Memories of her last few nights with Rex came to mind. They assumed that it was impossible or at least highly unlikely. They were safe in the beginning but as the war drew on and their ever-fragile mortality weighed on both of them, they forwent it.

 And the spark in the Force that she sensed was the unmistakable result of that carelessness.

She fell forward and curled up on herself, that same fear that ate away at her for months now crawled up her spine yet again. Every labored breath she took pushed that numbing pain closer to her heart and mind, igniting flames where the now healed blaster bolt wounds had laid. She picked her head up, refusing to succumb again, but also terrified and alone, she reached out into the Force.

“Master,” she begged softly, “what am I going to do?”

*~*~*

Rex set his ship down on the dirt of a remote backwater planet that Senator Organa assured him would be a safe meeting location. Walking down the gangplank, Rex took off his helmet when he spotted Bail descending from his own ship. The two men greeted each other politely.

“What is this planet anyways?” Rex asked as he turned to follow the senator into his ship.

“It used to be inhabited two centuries ago. But then a civil war broke out and eventually destroyed all of the resources on the planet, forcing the survivors off world,” Bail explained, glancing out at the dustball. “And it’s not strategically located, so the galaxy has left it alone.”

Rex stared out at the landscape again, frowning as he thought about the galaxy’s current situation before heading inside the transport. They discussed intel and exchanged information. Rex delivered a copy of some Imperial intel that Nemec had managed to gather and Bail offered him what little he had heard about the remaining clones.

“You haven’t heard anything about any Jedi, have you, Senator?” Rex asked quietly.

“Not the one you seek information on, no,” Bail replied, causing Rex to look down. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

“All the more reason to keep fighting,” Rex reasoned, earning a nod of support from Bail. Grabbing his new intel, Rex added, “I won’t take up any more of your time. And I should be getting back to my men with this new intel.”

“Of course.” 

“May the Force be with you, Senator.”

“And May the Force be with you too, Rex.”

*~*~*

“I told you that the hyperdrive was acting funny!” Echo huffed with frustration.

The Bad Batch struggled to their feet after crash landing on a remote jungle moon in the Outer Rim. Hunter was first back to his feet and quick to check Omega over for any injuries or scratches from their crash landing. Tech straightened up from his seat and slowly moved to stand.  

“It appears that there was a slight misalignment,” Tech stated, adjusting his goggles.

“Slight?” Hunter emphasized sarcastically. He looked out at the dense jungle through the viewport and sighed. “Let’s get the door open.”

With a bit of an extra push from Wrecker, the door of the Marauder opened and the Bad Batch spilled out into the jungle. Hunter kept Omega close, aware of the high number of life forms crawling around. The Batch tried to pull the Marauder out from the dense foliage that it crashed into, but it was of no use. Not even Wrecker’s full strength was enough to pull it out. And not with light fading.

“What are we going to do?” Omega asked, glancing between her brothers. “It’s starting to get dark.”

“And I’m starving!” Wrecker sighed, sitting on the root of a large tree.

It was eventually decided, after some deliberation with Tech, to scout the nearby area for sources of food and water, as their rations were already low. Hunter led the way into the jungle with the team forming a single-file line behind him. Entering a clearing, Hunter scanned the area when Wrecker stepped around him.

“Hey, look!” Wrecker yelled, pointing over at some vines berries growing on them. “I bet that we can eat those berries!”

“I would disagree with eating whatever you find on the ground out here,” Tech stated, shaking his head as Wrecker ran over to investigate. “And there is a high probability that those berries could be poisonous to us.”

“Then let’s figure out what they—” 

Wrecker yelled out when he was suddenly strung up by his ankle by a thick rope. It was looped over a branch of the tree side Wrecker and connected to a pulley system.

“Wrecker!” Omega yelled out as Hunter ran forward to help his brother.

He scaled the tree and jumped, slicing through the rope with his vibro blade. Wrecked landed roughly, but he was unharmed. As the Bad Batch gathered around Wrecker to assess the situation, the sound of a rifle clicking caused Hunter to spin around, putting himself in front of Omega protectively.

“Someone’s out there,” Hunter warned, pulling out his blaster. “And they’re armed.”

“The person who set the trap, more than likely,” Tech stated, scanning the jungle around them. “Though this system is not listed as civilized.”

“Where are they?” Echo asked, looking around the jungle. “Up in the trees? On the ground?”

Hunter paused for a moment, waiting to hear the individual again. But then he suddenly turned and held his blaster up, pointing at the shadows. A hooded figure stood just out of the light, with a rifle in hand that was aimed straight at the Bad Batch.

“Easy,” Hunter stated, trying to reason with the individual. “We’re not here to hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” a feminine voice replied, a bit gruffly. Echo paused for a moment, frowning at the familiarity of the voice. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around, head back to your ship, get the kark off of this moon, and never come back.”

“We cannot complete that sequence of events. Our ship is damaged and stuck in the jungle growth. We are unable to get it out on our own,” Tech spoke up, causing the rifle to briefly train on him. “If you could point us to the nearest spaceport—”

“—There are none.”

“Then perhaps you have a device that we can use to remove our ship from the growth,” Tech continued, seemingly unfazed by the rifle. “Seeing as that is in line with your own objectives, it should be reasonable for you to provide us with assistance if you are able.”

“No.”

“Then perhaps—”

“—Are you always this talkative with someone holding you at blaster point?” the woman interjected, growing steadily more annoyed.

“Just him,” Wrecker stated, nudging Tech.

“General?” Echo called, causing the woman to hesitate. “Is that you?” The rifle lowered a bit more and Echo stepped forward, removing his helmet. “It’s me. Echo.”

“Who is it?” Omega questioned Echo curiously.

“A Jedi?” Hunter asked, causing the rifle to quickly lock on him.

“The Jedi are all dead,” the woman spat, though the edge of grief was easy to detect to Echo’s ear. “The Empire made sure of that.”

“We helped a Jedi escape,” Wrecker spoke up, causing the woman to train her rifle on him.

“A padawan. Caleb. He was General Billaba’s padawan,” Hunter recalled, causing the woman’s finger to shake as it rested against the trigger. “We received Order 66, but we never carried it out.”

“And they removed their chips,” Omega chirped, causing the woman to pause.

“What chips?” she demanded, causing Echo and Hunter to share a look.

“All clones were designed with inhibitor chips built into our brains. They were primarily designed to make us more obedient, especially to several predesigned codes to carry out specific orders that we would otherwise hesitate to complete,” Tech explained rapidly. “Every clone who heard the command, save for us really, immediately lost control of their minds and bodies to carry out the order.”

“Order 66,” she breathed out, remembering what Comet had been muttering to himself.

She looked down, starting to piece together the timeline of what happened that dark day. Echo shared a look with the other Bad Batchers before turning back to her.

“We all removed our chips. And we have the scars to prove it. And if you need, Tech can show you the report explaining what the chips are.” After a moment, he added, “It was written by Rex. Before the order came through.”

At the mention of Rex, she lowered the rifle completely. And after a moment’s hesitation, she stepped out into the light. Staring down at them with a measure of distrust still in her eyes, she sat the butt of her rifle down against the branch.

“Show me.”

After reading through the report for the third time, she tossed the datapad down to Tech again. Jumping down from the branch, she landed gracefully and straightened up. There was still an edge of distrust to her stance, but she looked more like the general that Echo remembered that a frightened hermit. And he considered that to be a success.

But when he glanced at the pack on her back, he paused. Because it was moving.

“Why are you here? What brought you here?” she asked, glancing between the Bad Batch.

“His faulty calculations,” Hunter explained, earning a sharp look from Tech in return.

“It was a minor misalignment.”

“You said that your ship is damaged?” she inquired, causing Echo to shake his head.

“We don’t think so. It’s just stuck in the vines.”

“Well, you won’t have any luck getting it out in the dark, even with my help,” she replied seriously. “There’s a lot more that lurks out here that you don’t want to run into in the dark.” After a moment of thought, she added, “Follow me.”

She turned around and for the first time, the Bad Batch could see what was in her pack. Or rather who was in her pack. A little swaddled baby was strapped to her back. Staring at the Batch, the baby cooed and giggled at their incredulous expressions.

“Is that . . .?” Hunter trailed off, sharing an incredulous look with Tech.

“A baby?” Omega completed softly.

The former Jedi turned around and slowly slipped her arm out of her pack until her son was strapped to her chest instead of her back. Resting her hands on the sides of his carrier, she slowly turned to look at the flabbergasted expressions of the clones in front of her.

And Echo couldn’t help but notice the blond hair atop the baby’s head.

“What’s his name?” Omega asked, taking a few steps forward.

“Atin.”

“Tenacious,” Tech translated quickly, adjusting his goggle. “In Mando’a, that is.”

“Yes,” she agreed, gently running her hand over her son’s head.

“Did he know?” Echo inquired quietly, causing her to shake her head.

“I didn’t even know. How would he?”

With a bitter smile, she turned and called for them to follow her again. Echo moved to walk beside her and Hunter held the others back a step, trying to give them some semblance of privacy. Echo glanced down at the baby content in the carrier before turning to the baby’s mother.

“He’s alive,” Echo stated softly, causing her to turn to him. “He’s alive. And he’s free.” After a moment, Echo added quietly, “And he’s looking for you.”

She nodded slowly, careful to step over a root, before carrying on her way. Echo walked beside her, giving her a moment to process the news. Reaching the base of a large tree, she turned to Echo with a tentative look in her eyes.

“Where is he?”

“It changes by the rotation,” Echo replied honestly. “He’s running around the galaxy. Freeing brothers. Stoking rebellions. Gathering intel.”

“I don’t think he knows how to relax,” she commented with an edge of humor before she glanced down at the child strapped to her chest. And then the smile slowly faded. “Do you think that you can convince him to come here? Alone?”

“I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer from him,” Echo promised her, causing her to smile softly again. “Rex didn’t give up on me. And it’s my turn to return the favor whether he likes it or not.”

“It’s like you two are brothers or something,” she joked, walking over to a hanging vine. Tugging on it until a ladder rolled down to the jungle floor. “Neither of you know how to give up.”

“It’s not in our blood,” Echo stated, glancing down at her baby. “Nor his.”

“Why do you think I named him ‘Atin’?” she asked rhetorically before moving to climb.

*~*~*~*

Rex wasn’t sure what Echo was thinking when he came out of hyperspace and spotted the jungle moon ahead. But he trusted Echo, so he flew towards the coordinates that Echo provided him. Slowly setting down the Y Wing on the jungle floor, Rex hopped out and started his short walk. Coming up on the meeting location, Rex looked around curiously when he heard a branch break behind him.

Grabbing his blaster, Rex whirled around, ready to defend himself. But when he saw her standing there, he dropped his blaster out of shock.

“Cyare?” he called softly, like he couldn’t believe that it was her.

“Rex,” she returned, smiling nervously.

Rex walked forward slowly. His blaster laid forgotten on the jungle floor. With his eyes never leaving her figure, he moved like a man possessed. She remained still, forcing her body to stay where it was, even as her mind screamed to move, to flee. Her nightmares started to creep up again but when Rex gently cupped her cheek, she returned to the present.

“What?” she asked quietly, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. “What is it?”

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you,” he replied, causing her lips to wobble.

They quickly held onto each other, in disbelief that they were able to have the honor again. Rex cupped the back of her head to keep her close and let his tears slip free. She buried her face in his neck, ignoring the uncomfortable way that the plastoid dug into her. She didn’t care. Rex was here. Her Rex was here. Despite everything, he was finally here. They were finally back together.

Rex only loosened his grip when he heard a gentle cry echo through the jungle. Looking up, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise, he turned back to her as she grabbed his hand. Gently leading him up the path and to the home that she built for them, she stepped inside. Rex, his heart thudding hard in his chest, waited a moment before walking in behind her.

And when she turned around with a baby in her arms, he fell to his knees.

She smiled, drying her own tears, before moving to join him on the floor. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, she held out their son to Rex for the first time. After hesitating for a moment, he gently moved to cradle his son—his son—against his chest.

“I believe you now,” she quipped, wiping his tears away.

“Believe me about what?” he croaked out, turning back to her with a loving expression.

“You are a natural blond.”

[keferon]

jazz later, dizzily stumbling off the medbunk once he's coherent enough to form thoughts, but the lights are too bright and gravity is too strong and his head hurts something is missing he doesn't, he doesn't know what it is, it's just wrong, and his muscles feel both weak and stiff at once, crouching in a corner huddled away from all the people:

what the hell did you do to me?

Do you think he sometimes gets nightmares about those procedures that made him drift compatible? Do you think he sometimes experiences something like sleep paralysis but instead of dark monster he sees faceless people in white masks? Do you think he's cool with being a pilot but he can't escape the memory of what he had to go through to become one?

I think he might

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Forty Two - Soldier Executioner

Part Forty One

———

Flight simulation was initially used in Europe, though not as it is today, during the years before and leading up to the First World War the precursors to flight simulation were coming about. With ground training for air assaults and sky shooting taking place. 

The first proper flight simulator was used in Binghamton, New York starting in 1927. Creating an airplane-like shell that sat atop a device that would offer some similar cues to actual air flight. Becoming known as the Link Trainer. 

Starting in World War Two, over five hundred thousand new pilots from the allied nations were trained using the Link Trainer, for both major fronts. 

In 1954, United Airlines purchased four flight simulators to start the modern era of simulations. Everything from airplanes, to helicopters, race cars and now mech suits. 

Generally, simulators are used as a training tool to familiarize the user with the cockpit they will be attending, the procedures they will be following and emergency situational response.

Like flight simulators, mech suit simulators are not much different. A connecting point between the experienced pilots and the rookies, the recently compatible, the constant need to learn and adapt to the new scenarios they would be facing. 

Unlike flight simulators, the only way to use a simulator effectively is once the connection system, known as the implants, has been placed within the pilot. A proper connection is necessary for a comprehensive understanding of the system, emergency codes, and errors that every pilot will face in the field.

Not that they might face, but that they will face. 

Simulators are key to all pilots' experiences, whether in flight or the fight. 

It just so happens that learning to fly a plane is only slightly different from learning to operate a mech unit. All stepping from the same idea of teaching soldiers how to kill moving targets. 

—

The further in he got, the worse he felt, this horrible feeling of homesickness which he’d been able to kick pretty early on was hitting him like a truck now. Deep in the depths of the enemy spaceship reminded him of the pilot simulators back home, being strapped in and having everything thrown at you. 

Down to one arm and a prayer, Hound kept moving slowly, gun raised and ready. Finger never leaving the trigger. 

All the walls were oozing and suddenly he was grateful to be breathing from oxygen tanks rather than the air around him. Who knew what sort of undiscovered toxins were aboard.

Slowly turning down a different path, his gun comes up and fires upon a Quintesson. The thing shrieks more out of rage than pain which was never a good sign, “Come on then!” Running forward, Hound slams into the enemy face first. Lodging his gun up close, he fires point blank into the alien.

His visor tunneled and swearing, he fired quickly, slamming his empty shoulder into the side of the thing as pain shot through his implants.

The voices in his ears weren’t real, at least not in the context that he was currently hearing them but they were louder than the current noise around him. Even the roar of the Quintesson. 

“God damnit Hound, your scores just aren’t good enough!” Kup’s voice was always painfully loud and demanding, he was a great commander but it sucked when you were the one being yelled at, “I know that! I know,” He sighed shakily, staying in the sim, kicking the Quintesson on its beak.

In the rig, he was thankful Kup couldn’t rest a hand on his shoulder, eyes flicking around urgently. Even just starting out, being a hunter took a lot more focus than being a striker did. They could stumble around blindly in the dark without reprimand, the hunter class had to be precise and know their next move before it was possible to.

Even at this point, Kup had been an old school pilot, multi-class before that had been thought possible, the man was ancient in Hound’s eyes. It was late 2002, if he could recall it right, he’d been twenty then and Kup had felt older than dirt. 

The banging on the sim door did not help as he tore open a Quintesson, data running through the corner of his vision at the sim picked up data, “You need to focus on the fight! Not the simulation, you need to trick your mind into thinking you’re actually out on that field!” Growling, Hound’s gun fired into the carcass on the floor of the ship before running forward.

His mentor saw more potential in him than he even saw in himself, one of his many mentors, just another ex-military pilot that tried pulling at his heart strings. Hound’s focus was deadlier than any other standing hunter class, the most kills within the same amount of time and holding the record for the moment.

Simulation hours were near triple of the next closest pilot, he stunk of desperation. This was beyond a calling, this was his life.

Swearing, Hound shoots as another Quintesson appears from around the corner, the ship is a maze. He wasn’t sure if that was the reality or the simulation of it all, “Focus Hound! You can’t let another pilot die under your watch, striker or not!” His gun attached itself to his wrist, just as his fist collided with the Quintesson, bare foot slamming down on a pair of tentacles. 

“Shut up!” His gun slid back into place and he fired until the barrel was red hot. Splattered with green, he was heaving for breath, “That’s better Hound, much better.” Kup’s voice seemed to wander away, fading as his vision became clear again. No longer the artificial view from the simulator. 

No, he was just standing in a hall on the Quintesson ship, alone except for the corpses he was leaving in his wake. 

Trying to shake off the feeling of the hallucination, he took slow and deep breaths. Unstrapping his mask while closing his eyes, grabbing up his water, his gun sliding back to his wrist. His other arm effectively dead to the world and to his current use, it was numb too. 

He drank deeply, eyes closed and trying to breath, his skin crawled. He hadn’t thought of the old man in ages, he’d love to be on an alien planet fighting Quintessons. More than anything. Smiling a bit, Hound opens his eyes and swears as a Quintesson helps him to the floor.

Help he did not want.

Digging his fingers into the tentacles trying to wrap themselves around him, Hound grit his teeth, “You know, I am sick and tired of you.” And he pulled the tentacles free from the alien’s body, quickly whipping them back at it. It shrieked from pain and Hound grinned wolfishly. 

—

His back hit the ship hard, as his leg caught one of the tentacles whipping around towards him and Jazz, “Fuck you!” Pulling his leg down and twisting it, he pulls the tentacles trying to pin him to the ship free.

The Quintesson shrieks never got any less painful on the ears, even Jazz’s slightly manic laughter was easier on the ears. Talk about a pilot who lived and breathed for this stuff, even without bracers or a gun, he was a natural at taking these things apart. Piece by piece if he had to. 

Bringing his arms up, the next hit split open the attacking Quintesson, splattering him green, “We have a real shitty job, you know that?” He glances over his shoulder, able to lumber up while wailing on the Quintesson, “You either love it or hate it, live or die, it’s still your choice Sides.” Jazz’s response was cool, followed by another wicked laugh.

He had a hard time plating the feet of his suit, the ship a weird mix of metal and flesh, something that made his skin crawl. Getting upright with a yell, he throws himself at another Quintesson. Bracers coming down hard against its shell-like exterior.

It cracked open with his hit, splatting more of his suit in green and he couldn’t help but grin. Maybe this isn’t the career he would have chosen for himself, but he was thrilled to be here.

After a moment, his comm began to ping again, answering, he grunts and swings around, “Yell-o.” He was breathing heavily, “Is there any update?” His heart almost stopped, swinging around, he gasped. The panic tried to grab at his throat again, “Elita, uh, no.” Turning back he yells and collides with the next Quintesson, shoving it hard as Jazz jumps over head, grappling one above him.

“I can’t get through to Optimus or anyone right now, other than you. So what’s going on?” He swings back out and nearly falls, shaking again, staring at the comm-line for a moment before disconnecting it, “I can’t focus on you right now, I’m sorry.” The weakness in his voice almost shattered him.

Tearing at his heart strings, he kept going, tearing apart the Quintessons he could get his hands on. Pushing down the panic and fear and sadness as much as he possibly could. It was right there, bubbling under the surface, collapsed buildings and calm voices trying to reassure him as if he were the one who needed it.

No, not again, he wouldn’t fail like that again.

Yelling, he grabs two Quints by their tentacles and starts to whip them around, “This planet is under our protection!” He slams them into the side of the ship as Jazz falls back into his back, holding off another Quint, he glanced over, “And we’re not going down without a fight, right Sides?” Nodding, he yelled again as he ripped the limbs from them.

With a kick, they flew right into Breakdown’s booming blasts.

”This is for our bar, damn you!” Him and Jazz moved in near sync, turning together and striking the approaching enemy.

They were everywhere. They were surrounded.

On the highest point in the area, the one place they shouldn’t be.

Why was that so familiar?

His bracers were normally blue and nearly glowing, a special alloy from home made of iron and the metal off of Quintesson ships. His plating was normally red, like the car his father had driven around for the better part of their childhoods. Both were covered in green gore, blocking out the familiar and comforting colors.

Jazz was in no better state, the white and blue were also soaked green but the tint to his visor, that paired with the laughter, this was serious. More than he had thought originally.

Fuck.

—

Even from a distance, he could tell things weren’t going well. Holy shit, things were honestly going very badly. The longer Jazz and Sideswipe were on the ship, the more Quintessons seemed to pull themselves from the wreckage. 

Strapping his oxygen mask back on, Sunny tried his hardest not to gag again or worse, he’d have to deep-clean his suit when all of this was said and done. They were terrible about holding onto stains and things. He could remember having to learn how to clean a cockpit on one coated in blood.

It was how he learned he was squeamish. 

With slow and deep breaths, he brings his helmet's additional hud display up, bringing focus back to the outside and not the inside. Iacon came back into clear view and it still looked horrible. 

Keeping his back to Breakdown’s, he couldn’t help looking back over his shoulder, wincing when the cannon got too loud, “BD, is there any sign of Hound yet?” He was still somewhere inside the ship, “No, nothing but static still.” Sighing, Sunstreaker looks around, “Still no sign of our backup either.” His hands were still shaking.

Honestly, his whole suit was still shaking, the panic was sitting below the surface and bursting out every few seconds. He wasn’t very useful at the moment, god, he felt pathetic. Without Blue at his own back he was panicking like a rookie, glancing back towards the ship he could see the shake in Sideswipe’s suit too.

They were all panicking.

That was so much worse. 

Swearing quietly, he took slow breaths again, “God damnit.” Shaking his head a bit, he looks back at Breakdown. 

Breakdown’s stance was steady, feet planted and cannon booming every few seconds, the barrel was starting to glow red which means he’d have to fall back soon. They’d have to fall back soon, which would either mean they’d be leaving Jazz and Sideswipe alone or they’d all leave Hound alone if backup didn’t show up.

Bad news, very bad news.

“Sunstreaker, we need to fall back.” Breakdown’s voice was heavy with grief, shifting his stance slightly, “As soon as my cannon overheats, we’ll be overrun and no help to Jazz and Sideswipe. Do you think they would fall back?” Taking a breath, he shakes his head, “No, they’ll want to wait for Hound, won’t they?” 

He turns and his eyes widen, grabbing Breakdown around the middle and pulling him back as Seeker fire sprays across the ground between them and the fallen ship, “Fuck!” They both stumble and fall with a loud crash.

Breakdown’s suit was so much heavier than his, the crush alerts popping back up for the second time that day. His head slammed into the side of his piloting chair, knocking around in the helmet. Now he really wasn’t going to be able to fight, his vision swimming again.

Groaning painfully, he tries to get his weight back under him, “Breakdown, you’re crushing me.” Their suits groaned and scraped. Metal screeching loudly against their ears as they tried to get up.

More blaster fire rained down on the ship and they scrambled for the alleyway, his back hit the wall while trying to refocus his cameras back towards the ship. Jazz and Sideswipe were still fighting, shouting at each other and likely on comms with the seekers above. 

A hand came down on his shoulder, “We need to fall back, try to get a different vantage point.” Nodding a bit, he pings Sideswipe, it pings three times before his voice comes through, “I’m a bit busy to talk Sonny!” Sighing a bit, Sunny stared towards his brother, “Breakdown and I are having to fall back, his cannon is overheated.” 

“Jazz and I aren’t going to leave Hound behind, you two need to get clear. There’s so many of them around for you both to be unarmed.” His mouth was dry, but he nodded, “We’re going to intercept the backup and get them here, just, hold them off.” Sideswipe looked towards him, saluting lightly. 

Sighing, Sunny looked to Breakdown, “Come on, we’ve gotta hurry.” Helping the bigger mech back up, they started down the alley at as close to a run as a tanker could go.

His gut twisted again painfully, this day was getting worse the longer it dragged on, and they were losing light. 

Seekers screamed overhead while they rushed between buildings.

—

There was something deeply morbid about this but what else was he supposed to do, leave it behind? Sunny couldn’t exactly fight Quintessons while carrying around his arm and Knockout would kill him if it got any further damage. It was bad enough he was the one carrying it.

No, now he was holding the arm of Sunstreaker’s suit, yellow paint scraped off, and dripping what he thought was oil. His digits were brushing over the back of the severed servo, lost in thought.

It was beyond morbid, the only amount of peace that he had with it was the fact that he knew Sunny wore the suit for these moments, to not blow off his own little limbs. His tanks rolled unpleasantly, continuing to brush his digits over the servo with his optics watering. 

This was the first time in ages, since the last war he was pretty sure, that he recognized the stench of fear. It hit him like a metal beam falling on his head, which had happened more than he’d like to admit with the day he was having, but it had been almost a thousand stellar cycles since he smelt this. This was Iacon under attack and they were hiding under the ground.

It was horrible. 

Humans were bags of organic squish and yet they were the ones up on the surface, fighting their shared enemy like it was no big deal. As if a building hadn’t fallen on their heads and they just got back up to fight again while the rest of them came to cover their wounds. 

The arm continued to drip oil onto the unfinished floor.

Hanging his helm and venting slowly, he tried to stop the rapid spinning of his spark, the roiling of his tanks, the anxiety was going to dismantle him. 

Prowl’s voice was the only thing keeping him calm, low and nearly unregistered in his audials, optics flickering as he was running the number along with the logistics. Their backup should be arriving soon, but there were delays. There were always delays in Iacon now.

“Prowl, is there an update?” His voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb the others. Whether Mirage who looked like he was dealing with some processor damage, or Optimus who was holding lightly to Megatron’s unconscious helm, or Knockout who was still working on the Lord Protector. 

He vented slowly and shook his helm, and Blue clutched tighter at the servo, “No, Soundwave is having an issue getting nearby commands in place. Same with Blaster. There are a few other scouting ships on planet.” Nodding slowly, Bluestreak looks up at the ceiling above them.

Every few seconds they could hear the distant booms of Breakdown’s cannon.

It was so familiar to them now, quartex or two of battle together had put that back into his processor. 

Venting, he offlines his optics for a long time, just clutching Sunstreaker’s servos, those servos and Prowl’s voice were grounding to him.

When the booming stopped, it was hard to register but his optics shot immediately to the ceiling, “Something is wrong.” His voice was quiet and Prowl nodded slowly, “Breakdown and Sunstreaker are falling back according to the Seekers, Jazz and Sideswipe are fighting on top of the crash, Hound is not visible on the battlefield.” They briefly shared a look.

That was not good, Hound would do anything for his crew and had done so in the past, the fact he was missing from the field either meant he was down or he was doing something incredibly stupid.

”Scrap.”

—

He felt like hell but was still grinning, nearly evilly. The silence was a lot and it was tearing at his mind, but he kept moving, gun back up and scanning for the enemy.

The disconnect from the outside was bad, he had no idea what was going on outside, but he kept coming across patrols in the halls and handled them with the practiced ease of a tenured pilot. One on an alien planet, but still.

Turning down yet another hallway, Hound takes a breath, two Quints at the end of the hall and what appeared to be a door. First one he’d see in the whole ship, he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing but for the moment they didn’t see him.

Every instinct he’d gotten from being in the military said to shoot them as much and often as he could, being a striker class said the same, but neither were as strong as his old unlocked coding. It was showing him each subtle movement he could make to get closer before attacking and his gun slid back to place against his arm. 

Drawing the barrel of his gun from his leg, he shifts the grip and starts stalking down the hall, moving far too quietly for a suit as big as his. It wasn’t until he was about half way down did they notice him, snapping the barrel to the other side of his wrist, his gun came back forward and he fired four shots, two into each Quintesson in rapid succession. 

The reverberation was killer even in his suit but it didn’t matter, what did was the lack of green splatter. In all the months he’d been using this gun, it had never not pierced the skin of a Quintesson. Now was not the moment to dwell on that though, rushing forward, his gun pressed to the beak of one and fired as many times as he could pull the trigger while kicking the other across its face.

It was the second that snagged his leg while the first shirked from the burns and gun fire, only oozing the familiar green gore. Sliding the gun back to his magnets, he digs into the hole he’d created and pulls hard.

With a Quintesson shrieking in his ear, he lets go and grabs up the one holding his leg, pulling it towards him with a shout of his own, hurling it into the wall. Turning back to the one who was now bleeding again, he adjusts his stance, “I don’t have all day, we do this now or never.” With a shriek it lunged for him.

His fist connected with its eye first, which honestly made his skin crawl. It was one of the few places pilots had the hardest time with, the typical gore they could handle but this was always a last resort. 

Fluorescent gore splattered out, across his plating and the walls as Hound grabbed the edge of the now bare eye socket before bringing his foot up to cave in the rest of its face. It takes three more firm kicks than it typically did to do so, Hound grunting with the effort.

”What the hell are you things?” The first one crumbled to the floor and he spun back around to the second, now being the one slammed into the wall instead of the Quintesson. It shrieked painfully loudly, especially when he stopped on one of it’s tentacles, throwing his empty shoulder into its face. 

They were denser than the typical Quintesson, heavier, as Hound throws the weight of his suit into it and nearly falls on his face. 

Swearing, he draws his gun and fires up under its jaw, “Damnit, you're strong. Megatron would have loved to kill you.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, he sure as hell didn’t want to be fighting these things on his own. Green splattered over his arm which he lodged the gun further up the hole he was making.

It was a rather disgusting job they had. 

Only when his gunfire was going straight through did he stop and pull back, panting from the effort. The fight had started only a meter or two from the doors, they were almost back where he started when he’d turned down the hall.

”What the hell.” This was turning bad news to worse, starting back down the hall as a few pieces of plating fell away from his leg, pausing, he bent to pick them back up. Holding them, he goes to the doors and smiles a bit, knocking, “Knock knock, anyone home?” Chucking a bit, he deactivates the door lock with a switch kick to the panel.

The main cabin was small, very small compared to everything else he had been through. Monitors all around showed the area around the ship and a few views of Iacon from above. He stopped to stare for a while, and worse turned into doomsday.

There was a Quintesson in there, of course, which he quickled used the dislodged leg plating in his lands to cut the tentacles, flying towards him, off. Running forward, pushing his suit hard, his gun slides back into place and he fires. Splattering the console green.

Taking slow and deep breaths, Hound heaves, bending and pressing his hands to his knees, “Oh god.” He breathes slowly, pushing himself back upright and going to the console. Trying to wipe off the gore from the dead alien, he had no idea what to do except pull the main disk and shoot the console.

It was a better solution than nothing. 

After a minute, he finds the main part of the console and dislodges it. His comms screamed back to laugh and he yelled, “Ow! Fuck,” turning it down, he presses his hand to the side of his head even as voices crackle back to life, “Hound! Are you in the control room?” Sideswipe’s voice was painful after the silence.

Rubbing his helmet, he swore again, “Yes, I am, has backup showed up yet?” Dragging the console piece away, he pulls free some wires and the closest thing that would resemble a computer.

”No, not yet, we’re still fighting out here and they just keep coming out.” Sighing, Hound shook his head and looked to the monitors again which were filled with static, “Wonderful.” Opening his cockpit, he sets the hard drive inside carefully, followed by the pieces of his leg plating that would fit. 

He got slammed back into the console as the cockpit closed, turning, he kicked out against whatever was attacking him.

It didn’t look like any type of Quintesson he’d ever seen, then again, they didn’t typically carry weapons or stand on two feet, “Fuck.” And it grinned.

———

A/N

Oh my god, this chapter took me a week to write. My life has been nuts and this took so long.

(It honestly probably took the normal time, but I never had a spare minute this week)

So. I’ll explain some of what’s going on in my life, then what happens with Hound in this chapter. :)

Last Thursday/Friday, I found out I got into my local Law School, so I am finally on the path to becoming a lawyer. Saturday, I went to see Thunderbolts* which has been eating my brain ever since and I have had to fight tooth and nail to not write Marvel fanfic. Sunday, was not a great day I had to deal with a bunch of paperwork stuff. Monday, my sister was home all day so I was spending most of the day with her. Tuesday, had to catch up on what I hadn’t done around the house on Monday. Wednesday, just didn’t write and was in a funk. Yesterday, I had a job interview and my sister was home again. Then today I finished the chapter.

So… yeah.

Now, Hound and the pilots have spent their careers fighting Quintesson Scouts. The big flying light weight aliens who survey. They are fighting a mix of Scouts and Soldier's in this moment, like the ones Hound fought outside the command room. And the last one is an executioner, who they have never seen before. So next chapter might be a bit of fun.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher 

And once again thank you to @Keferon for this amazing AU

[housemdork]

house md rewatch: 1x22, "honeymoon"

somehow one of the show's tamest season finales still ended up rocking my world.

an episode full of actions speaking louder than words, making it an excellent season one send-off, if you ask me. this one has excellent synergy with the pilot, despite how radically things have changed in the last 21 installments. wilson agrees that house cares about him based on his actions, and in 1x22, house spends the whole episode working in spite of his words to express his love to stacy through caring for mark. even though he can't stand the guy. good one, david shore and co.

3 separate notes i want to make from the top of the episode:

have there always been at least 3 red mugs? i swear we've only seen 1 so far, but one of the earliest scenes showcases 3.

the first drugging incident is in the books! along with their goofy "you dosed me/them/him" lingo.

wilson immediately maxed out his season 1 hypocrisy scale when he told house to "treat the husband. stay away from the wife." just because you abandon your wife all the time does NOT make you the right person to distribute relationship advice. idiot.

my general thoughts on stacy are very positive - i cannot think of a better past love interest for house, nor can i think of anyone who could give a better performance than sela ward. the way she still fits in with house doesn't lessen house's strong characterization thus far, and her screen time feels interesting and warranted throughout. the way she shuts him down when he asks about potential infidelity here gives the instant impression that house cannot mess with her like he does with just about everyone else:

most importantly, what i like about stacy are the ways she problematizes the ethics, or lack thereof, that we've become adjusted to under the Greg House Regime. she strong-arms people all the time as a lawyer, but in a completely opposite venue as house. in her world, there are grey areas abound; she just has to navigate through them all to reach a favorable conclusion. from our experience in 1x21, this was a major point of contention between them, and i think it's a really clever way of showing 2 different life paths manifested in 2 wildly different people with similar moral codes.

but something doesn't sit right (intentionally so): are their understandings of, and respect for, patient autonomy the same?

that house never fights her on this point gives us a superficial answer, at least: yes. stacy demands that house make mark, her current husband, go through a highly dangerous test in the same way that house would have strong-armed any other patient into doing the same thing. he can't refute this point when she throws it in his face, and goes so far as to accuse house of wishing mark would die (more ofc to come of that later):

but, subliminally, there's 2 key differences at play here: stacy hasn't known house that much post-infarction, so she hasn't seen the full impact that her middle-ground medical decision had on him, and now she's advocating for the dangerous procedure, whereas amidst house's infarction, she wanted the more fool-proof, cautious option. they make a nod to the former point when she comments about house bouncing his cane: "some people would find that annoying."

i don't think stacy is aware of this irony - and who would be while their husband is dying of freak brain matter and nerve degeneration? she's operating from a place of love for mark and arguing - in a rather courtroom-esque way, begging house to forego the legal consequences - for him to do something drastic. when he gives in, we see a flash of house's most dangerous side.

this was the least surprising "plot twist" yet btw. house md writers i'm not idiot. i knew he had that Look in his eye and was gonna do it.

it's such a weird moment; house was choosing to be safe by not directly threatening mark's life with a dangerous test, but he was doing it out of selfishness. this highlights a persistent conflict of morals that reappears all over the show. these 2 make a pretty dangerous duo lol.

personally, i'd be lying if i said stacy's disregard for house's choice about his infarction didn't bother me, and i LOVE the discomfort that generates within me as a viewer. i have to hold house to that same standard, but we've been so endeared to his character over time that it's textually difficult to maintain that integrity. maybe it's something to do with how we're taught to consider house as god, too, no matter how often he fails us/the show emotionally? much to think about.

next, i want to highlight this moment of fellow solidarity:

this speaks louder than dozens of words ever could about where the fellows are at emotionally. despite the ways in which they're all like house and all the ways he's influenced them, they can still identify his tipping point. this in and of itself is a small act of love, i'd argue, and we can extrapolate that:

chase, despite being so deep in the shitter with house post-vogler, still cares enough for him to prevent him from making this crazy choice.

foreman hasn't been so corrupted by house as to abandon his morals; he's stood firm against the mini-house accusations by being so consistently upstanding.

cameron can see through house, like she's been trying to all along, and knows that a large chunk of his current motivations are not for mark's benefit.

they each have unique insights into house's breakdown in 1x22 based on their unique relationships to him, all condensed into this brief "three musketeers" formation. love to see it, the fruit of 22 episodes' worth of writerly labor.

circling back to stacy (sorry for how disorganized this recap is!), there's an interesting comparison to make between stacy and wilson's function in this episode. stacy enables house to act on his craziest, instinctive impulses, whereas wilson is demanding the exact opposite - that he keep everything repressed for the sake of the patient. ofc, the highest irony is that, had house done that, mark would have died. this episode doesn't feature wilson's enabling crimes (those haven't come up that much this season, i don't think), but more so acts as a precursor for what's to come on that front.

but i would be VERY REMISS if i didn't mention a scene that i had nearly forgotten about myself that had me open-mouthed, thinking about The Future of this show and of These Two:

something should go here about the sign above wilson's shoulder. very no-turning-back. a nod to how he's quite literally leaving his wife for house here?

wilson gets to do one of my favorite things here: be house's moral compass on the subject he's the least trustworthy about - relationships. but i think this exchange highlights why house comes to wilson with his feelings about mark and stacy; wilson's own imperfections lets the vulnerability come easier. house admits that he was glad that mark's tests were inconclusive, that mark is "probably a great guy...and some part of me wants him to die. i'm just not sure if it's because i want to be with her or if it's because i want her to suffer."

that stacy picks up on this very fact later in the episode speaks to how well she knows house; that house tells wilson and not her shows the high regard that holds her in. that wilson doesn't respond says a lot. in an episode where everyone's voices are especially loud, and when wilson has already scolded house on this whole unraveling stacy debacle, his silence is peaceful...

...and a little bit prophetic. (4x16 spoilers) this reminds me a hell of a lot of a future, much more serious dilemma wherein a certain Broken Moral Compass asks his best friend to undergo a highly dangerous treatment to save someone else whom he loves. it's not perfect, but there's definitely a parallel to be drawn here: does wilson wish for house to undergo the life-threatening brain surgery just to save amber, or is there a small amount of selfishness there that wants to see house suffer? once again, much to think about! check back when i finally get to season 4 lol.

regardless, what i find compelling above all else is how wilson's silence helps prompt house to act above his words -- even though the subsequent actions are exactly the opposite of what wilson had been advising house to do thus far! no matter what his feelings may be about stacy and mark, he solves the case in the end, undoing his previous commitment to wait "for something to change." it was an obvious scapegoat when he said that to stacy, coming from the man who rejects all notions of change.

wilson's influence is even visually represented, too. when house returns to mark's hospital room, determined now to do the crazy thing and give him the dangerous treatment, we get a very brief shot of the teddy bear that wilson sent stacy and mark (he's so annoying lol):

lastly, i liked the step 1x22 took in throwing one of the show's background themes into the spotlight: house's neediness.

we've seen traces of it growing throughout the season, especially in how he tries to maintain order among the fellows, keeping them at his side while also self-sabotaging. it's clear to anyone that he can be exhausting to be around, but stacy confirms that this exhaustion extends well into his romantic/intimate relationships as well. according to her, while he is The One: "i was lonely. with mark, there's room for me."

OOF.

this somewhat contradicts what i said earlier about stacy not knowing house as he is now; like she told cameron, he's been This Way for a while - this also has interesting implications for wilson's comment during "detox" about whether house's changing behavior is "just the leg" or not. the antisocial behavior predates the infarction - very important in the Gregory House Timeline, and i think it actually endears us to him even more. and the mystery just got deeper, too.

in stacy's POV, he's always been needy. the relationship was always consuming, all about him. and as we well know, this isn't a trend that goes away. each of the fellows will grow apart from house, though at different paces and for very different reasons, and his future romantic relationships do the same, too.

but there IS someone who has a house-shaped hole in their heart, someone who defies the relationships that house has worn out thus far and will wear out in the future, someone that goes so far as to say that we "can't really choose who our friends are" because house fits that empty space too well.

"my wife's gonna kill me. we're having company. she cooked."

"i got mark's latest bloodwork. he's not responding to treatment."

"i'm sorry."

stacy was completely right to say that her relationship with house was too all-consuming; we see that play out again in the first half of season 2. but we also lay the seeds for what happens when there are 2 people, stricken with that same neediness dilemma, who are balanced perfectly for the other person, no matter how toxic things may become.

are there more things i could talk about? absolutely! i think i'll be doing an overall season recap, so i can evaluate some more atp. for now, happy end of season 1. wow, has the show transformed!! i'm sure that the final shot of the season being house contemplatively downing some vicodin isn't foreshadowing how his addiction becomes much more destructive in season 2...

HE'S SO SEASON 5 HERE.

[curioussubjects]

How is there a throuple on prime time TV?And why are they the medical staff on a luxury cruise?

I'm still not sure how Doctor Odyssey is a real show that's airing every week and not some fever dream, but since it seems to be that it is a real show, here's why I think it's yet another medical procedural drama...and on a cruise!

While polyamory has become more widely acknowledged in the mainstream, it's hardly normalized or even common in both media and people's lives. Likewise, queer representation, especially that of bisexual men, is still far from being without controversy (if it's allowed to be represented at all, as Supernatural fans like myself well know).

So, again, how in the world is Doctor Odyssey, which very explicitly centers the developing sexual and romantic relationship between Max, Avery, and Tristan a thing that exists? Or, to put it another way: if we have a story that is unusual for most people and even uncomfortable for many of them, how can that story be told without alienating the audience?

The answer: tell it in a way that feels familiar, and maybe a little detached from reality. So, medical procedural drama on a cruise! Ok, let me explain:

Why a Medical Procedural Drama?

Not only has the the genre been a staple of American television since the 90s (thanks, ER), it's a type of story that is told in formulaic ways. It is, after all, a procedural. Both its familiarity and predictability allow the audience to sit back and enjoy the story unfold with its expected beats. This type of TV is meant to be fun and easy to watch. Such shows might give you some current issues beats to ponder as you watch, but they're not making you do a lot of work.

But why medical as opposed to law enforcement, which is a much more common type of procedural? Because, thanks to the legacy of shows like Grey's Anatomy and House MD., medical dramas have a lot more leeway to be dramatic AND unrealistic while somehow preserving the veneer of realism. It's this allowance for dramatics and breaches of realism that create a comfortable bubble of "sure this might as well happen" that prevents the audience from being alienate when faced with a wide variety of topics that can be as accurate or fantastical as the plot demands.

Polyamory, within this broader landscape, can be a Very Special Episode that just so happens to span every episode, and viewers can be carried through that plot by the familiar patterns and conventions of the genre.

Why on a Cruise?

Oh, aren't medical procedurals so cliché? How can we make it interesting?? I know, put them on a cruise! We haven't put doctors on a cruise yet! (totally 100% real conversation on ABC)

Sure, the cruise premise stinks of gimmick, but what if that's the point? Surely, most people would see a show like Doctor Odyssey and imagine that what makes it different is that it's set on a cruise. Yeah, that's not completely untrue, but the cruise serves a much more important purpose than being a differential on a pitch.

In fact, the cruise, like the medical procedural, is another liminal space that allows for multiple ways to engage in fantasy or reality as the plot demands. Mainly, and most crucially, though, the cruise is a bubble, an illusion, which is a point the show itself makes in the pilot episode. It is unmoored (heh) from the expectations of land, like accurate representations of healthcare, or say...monogamy as default. As such, the cruise makes not only for a dynamic choice of setting, but a very intentional one.

Reality Check:

The interplay between genre and setting is crucial. The audience, with all its expectations, of what a medical procedural drama is know what they're tuning in for, and they can easily imagine the dramatic (or ridiculous) nature of the cases that will be present in a luxury cruise. True enough, as I mentioned before, the pilot episode starts by being very honest that the cruise is an illusion: the captain shows and describes all the craft and skill that goes into creating a safe space for passengers to engage in fantasy. The genre savvy audience is then invited into aligning not with the cruise passengers, but with the crew.

Except Doctor Odyssey isn't really about the medicine, or the cruise, is it? It's about Max, Tristan, and Avery. So the audience is given a choice at the metanarrative level: be the passenger or be the crew. Be aware that the point of the story is the polyamory or tune in for medical staff...on a cruise! Win-win! What I think is fun and clever about all this is that no matter who you choose to align yourself with, you can't ever truly escape reality lurking in the wings. The polyamory is simply there no matter how resistant the audience, but the setting and the genre create a buffer around it.

Sure you can have a threesome on a cruise, it's like Vegas. No big. Nothing threatening to social conventions. It's not real. But reality has a way of reasserting itself: in the tragedies that befall the passengers on the ship, or their mishaps, or the cherished memories they'll look back on. And while the crew upkeeps the illusion, they aren't immune or completely separate from its effects (good and bad). No one can divest themselves from what they experience on the cruise and neither can the viewer.

Through genre convention and its setting, Doctor Odyssey (and I mean, look at this title alone lol) navigates the unfamiliar waters of accepting the richness of the human condition (to echo Captain Massey), and brings the audience safely to shore with a new understanding of what relationships can look like.

And this is how Doctor Odyssey managed to get produced and make it to air, and we get to be unhinged about Tristan, Max, Avery, and the YEARNING. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk etc.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Is this the end? (part I)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.6k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm (not detailed) •A/N: I couldn't fit everything into one post, so there will be a part two in a few day's time :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2007

The Triskelion slowly emerged in the distance. Tall, massive, impressive. A building fit for a strong organization like SHIELD. A statement to scare off their enemies.

It used to intimidate Katya too, back when she worked for that enemy. All Hydra agents were warned to stay far away from SHIELD HQ, unless they wanted to die. 

But in the past few months, it had amazingly become her safe space. A place where she could breathe for the first time in her life. A place she eagerly returned to.

Not right now, though. 

On this sunny, late afternoon in cold November, Katya dreaded landing the Quinjet on the flight deck and getting out. Her hands shook as she pressed the buttons and flipped the switches, forcing her breathing to stay normal so the SHIELD agent in the co-pilot seat wasn't alerted of her anxiety. 

She failed her mission. She messed up. Badly. She let Fury down. 

And she was still on probation. 

Her boss was very clear; make one mistake and she's out. And Fury always meant what he said. Always.

Katya didn't think she could keep going if she was kicked out of the one place that showed her kindness. If she was forced to say goodbye to the love of her life once more. 

That was the worst of it all; her failure would come back on Natasha. Natasha who was responsible for her. Natasha who promised Fury that Katya was fit for duty. Natasha who had faith in her to become a better person.

Not only had Katya let herself, the safety of the world, and her boss down, she had disappointed the woman she loved. And that stung more than anything.

The Quinjet barely wobbled as it touched the ground—at least she could do one thing right—and Katya helped her co-pilot with the shutdown procedure before lifting her heavy body out of the pilot seat. 

She didn't want to go out there. As long as she was in the jet, she was safe from being fired. Or she could pretend that she was safe, at least. So Katya took her sweet time collecting her things, triple checking that the Quinjet was ready for its next use before reluctantly making her way outside. 

Her anxiety was miles high as she crossed the flight deck. She felt like a pig being led to the slaughter. Every step of her booted feet took more effort than the last. Katya kept her gaze ahead and avoided the scared agents that jumped out of her way, refusing to let them see the fear in her eyes. 

She thought about running. It was her first instinct after she managed to escape her mission earlier today. It shouldn't have taken her fifteen minutes to decide to call in a SHIELD pickup, but it did, and she felt so ashamed about it. 

That part of her life was supposed to be over. Done. But it tempted her like a line of coke tempted a drug addict. 

Being on the run, being alone, it was so much easier. The only responsibilities she had were to herself. The only person she could disappoint was herself. If she messed up on a shady deal, they would be hunting her for a while, but only her. 

Having people who counted on her was harder than she thought it would be. Emotions were harder than she thought they would be. Her default setting was to isolate and be alone. To run when things were bad.

But she wouldn't take the easy way out this time. She refused to. With a deep inhale, Katya stepped inside the building.

To her surprise, nothing happened. She expected some agent to materialize and take her to Fury, or for people to stare and gossip about her failure. She had even imagined Natasha standing there, a disappointed frown on her face. But life inside SHIELD HQ went on as usual. They barely spared her a glance.

Without further hesitation, Katya mixed with the group heading for the elevators. Maybe if she blended in, she could hide and avoid having her soul broken for a little longer. Maybe, if she was fast enough, she could make it to her room and hide from Natasha as long as possible. 

The agents around her should know how hard her heart pounded as they shuffled away from her. How scared she was. It could be the last time they saw her face. It could be her last day in this building. Her last time riding this elevator. 

Katya's throat closed up. The tiny room suddenly felt extremely crowded. Panic pressed on her lungs. When she arrived at her floor, she bumped some shoulders in her rush to get out. As soon as she crashed through her apartment door, she sank to the floor, shaking.

The silence inside her apartment was terrible. The thoughts in her head sounded ten times as loud in the silence. They were overwhelming. The angry voices screamed at her, calling her a failure, a loser, that she would be better off dead.

She wrapped her arms around her knees in search of comfort. Comfort that she didn't deserve from anyone else.

How did she manage to mess up this badly? The mission Fury gave her was so simple, nothing she hadn't done before. Infiltrate a Hydra building—one Katya had marked as one—and steal some information. In and out. 

But somehow, they spotted her. Katya still didn't know how. She knew nobody could have heard her, or seen her. But the alarms went off and all the exits were blocked. She was trapped with no way out.

It took her locking herself into a room and hotwiring one of the alarm boxes on the walls, to lift the blockades and escape. She ran for five miles through the hills and hid before calling a SHIELD jet to pick her up. 

Now they had seen her face, knew she worked for SHIELD, knew their facility was compromised, and knew what information they were after.

It was the worst thing she could have ever done. She might as well have sent them an email. Fury would not be taking this lightly. 

Katya only noticed she was hyperventilating when someone slammed a door shut down the hall that made her jump. 

She felt ridiculous, rocking back and forth like a baby on the floor of her apartment, but it was her apartment, her safe space. She felt in her bones that she started to belong here, that this was where she should be. So it hurt a million times more, knowing she herself was the reason she would lose it all.

Katya sat on the floor for hours, digging her nails into her arms until welts started to form. Only when dusk set in did she pick herself off the floor, exhausted and covered in cold sweat. Nobody had come to check on her. 

She did her coming-home routine on autopilot. Shower, unpack, turn on her phone that she couldn't take with her on the mission, eat something—even though her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous.

She had four missed texts from Natasha, each more worried than the last.

Nat (3:44 PM): Welcome back. Hope the mission went according to plan :)

Nat (3:46 PM): Are you okay?

Nat (4:18 PM): Can't get out of this meeting, so I can't check in. Can you let me know if you're alright?

Nat (5:52 PM): I hope you fell asleep. Dinner later? My last meeting ends at 7. If I don't hear anything from you, I'm taking it as a yes.

Guilt started to pile up on Katya's shoulders. She couldn't tell Natasha what happened. She couldn't handle letting her down. She couldn't handle breaking her heart. She couldn't handle having her own heart broken again.

Katya left the messages unanswered. Maybe Natasha would take that as a sign to not come and find her later. 

She didn't. When she showed up at 7 PM and knocked on the door, Katya pretended to be asleep. She stayed "asleep" for the rest of the night and never answered the texts in the morning.

This streak of avoidance continued throughout the week. Katya woke up earlier on purpose, so she finished breakfast right when Natasha walked into the cafeteria. She changed her workout schedule from early mornings to the late evenings to avoid Natasha, who trained in the morning. She walked the other way when she saw Natasha in the hallway. She didn't answer texts, or answered very late. 

When Natasha did manage to talk to her long enough to make plans, Katya canceled them last minute with some lame excuse. 

It stung. It hurt every fiber of Katya's being to ignore Natasha like that. The woman didn't deserve it. She should be getting angry with her, but instead Katya triggered her insecurities too.

When she asked if Katya didn't want her around anymore, the blonde swore she heard her heart shatter.

But this was necessary. Even though Fury still hadn't called her in, Katya knew her exit from SHIELD was close. She needed to create a distance between herself and Natasha beforehand, so it would hurt less when that time came.

"Stop avoiding me."

It was lunchtime, Tuesday, and Natasha had finally managed to corner Katya. Literally. She'd grabbed her wrist in passing and forced her into a random supply closet in the hallway. Her body pressed Katya's against the wall, a fire in her green eyes.

"I'm not. I'm busy," Katya answered with a hint of annoyance, impatiently eyeing the door. She had places to be, people to avoid. 

"Don't lie to me," Natasha bit back, vulnerability in the back of her voice. "We're beyond that."

"Nat." Katya tried, avoiding her gaze at any cost. She didn't want to do this.

"What is going on? You better tell me right now," Natasha demanded.

Katya scowled. "Nothing. Let me go."

"Kat—"

"I said, let me go."

Slowly, Natasha stepped back, giving Katya enough space to escape. The brunette eagerly took advantage of that and slipped back into the hallway. They may not be in a good place, but they always respected each other's boundaries.

Natasha was at a complete loss. The only thing she knew was that everything changed after that mission. If she wanted to know why Katya was avoiding her, the key lay at that mission.

The problem was; her clearance wasn't high enough to get any information. She'd tried to get into the system, but it blocked her. The only thing left to try was going to the person who knew it all.

"I need to know what happened. And no confidentiality bullshit." 

Natasha stood in front of Fury's desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She was angry. At Katya, at herself, at the secrets. She was tired of the emotional rollercoaster, of being left in the dark. She wanted answers, now.

Fury lazily gazed up at her, unimpressed and calm. "It's simple. Petrova failed her mission."

A wave of nausea hit Natasha. Deep down, she wasn't surprised to hear this. She suspected something like this. But actually having it confirmed was something else. She, too, knew what it meant if Katya failed.

"Lots of us fail our missions."

"Correct. But we've also never had a Hydra deserter join us before," Fury said casually, reorganizing some folders on his desk.

Something clicked for Natasha. She didn't know the magnitude of the mission, or Katya's failure. But if Fury was this calm about it, and if Katya was still here, a week later, something else must be going on. As always, the Director of SHIELD had ulterior motives.

"You set her up," she realized with disgust. "You set her up to fail."

Fury didn't blink an eye at her accusation, only proving that she was right. "Only when they face death do people show their true faces."

Natasha boiled with anger, clenching her fists to keep herself contained. He really sent the woman she loved into a building full of hostiles just to prove her loyalty. "She could have died!"

"I knew she could get herself out of that situation."

Natasha had never felt as protective over someone as she did right now. "Katya doesn't deserve your mistrust. She's been loyal since she set foot inside this building. She hasn't lied about anything."

"Loyalty runs deep. We shouldn't underestimate her ties to her former employer."

Natasha swallowed back some nasty words. To call the Director of SHIELD an asshole was risky, even for her. Maybe especially for her.

"If your goal was to make her terrified of losing everything good she found, then you succeeded."

Fury sharply glanced up at her with his one good eye. "We are not a charity, Agent Romanoff. Petrova needs to understand that her stay here isn't guaranteed."

Natasha clenched her teeth together. What an outrageous way to prove a point. "If she has to go, I'm going with her. Just so you understand that too."

"Message received," Fury said dryly, returning his gaze to the desk. "Loud and clear."

A mess of emotions raged in her body as Natasha left his office and legged towards Katya's apartment. It was false hope that sent her there. Hope that her small, meaningless conversation with Fury would calm Katya down enough to talk to her. 

She was still furious at him. Furious for sending Katya into a trap, for mistrusting her, and for being the perfect director. She was angry because she couldn't be angry at him. In his position, it was a logical move to test Katya's loyalty.

But Natasha's love for the woman clouded her judgment. Funnily enough. 

"Open up." Her knocks were fast and impatient on Katya's door. "It's me, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." She was determined this time, willing to kick the door in, now that she knew why Katya acted so strangely.

To her surprise, Katya opened the door. Her body shielded Natasha's wandering eyes from seeing her apartment. She had dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, and a slow way of moving about her. "What is it?"

Natasha pushed past her before Katya could stop her. It had been a while since she had been in the apartment, and what she saw broke her heart. "Why do you have everything packed?" Katya didn't answer. All her personal belongings were in bags. "You don't have to leave. It was a test. And I think you passed it."

Katya snapped her head up, her eyes suddenly wide awake. "How do you— Ты говорил с ним (You went and talked to him)?"

Natasha was taken aback by her sharp tone. "I—"

"мне не нужна няня (I don't need a babysitter)!" The brunette raised her voice. "I made a mistake during probation. He has every right to send me off, test or not!"

"But it's not a fair test if he set you up to fail!"

"That doesn't matter! Failing still isn't an option! Test or not!"

Natasha thought she would be easing Katya's mind. But the woman only saw failure, clouded by fear. Katya was too terrified to lose everything to think rationally. "You're being too hard on yourself," Natasha continued gently. "You're an amazing agent. All your other missions went perfectly."

Katya huffed, raising her arm to scratch her head. "You can save 20 people, but we both know you only remember the one you killed."

Natasha barely heard her words. When Katya lifted her arm, her short sleeve lifted enough to show red welts on her arms in the form of nails. Clearly self-inflicted. Pointedly, Natasha looked at that arm, the spots now carefully covered. "Nothing is worth doing that to yourself."

Katya watched her go with a broken look in her eyes.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Inside William’s Next Act: Tatler’s May issue goes behind the scenes as the Prince of Wales is rising above the noise — and playing the long game

The burden of leadership is falling upon Prince William, but as former BBC Royal Correspondent, Wesley Kerr OBE, explains in Tatler’s May cover story, the future king is taking charge

By Wesley Kerr OBE

21 March 2024

When I first met Prince William in 2009, he asked me if I could tell him how he could win the National Lottery.

It was a jokey quip from someone who has since become the Prince of Wales, the holder of three dukedoms, three earldoms, two baronies and two knighthoods, and heir to the most prestigious throne on earth.

He was, of course, being relatable; I was representing the organisation that had allocated Lottery funding towards the Whitechapel Gallery and he wanted to put me at ease.

William is grand but different, royal but real.

At 6ft 3in, he has the bearing and looks great in uniform after a distinguished, gallant military career.

He will be one of the tallest of Britain’s kings since Edward Longshanks in the 14th century and should one day be crowned sitting above the Stone of Scone that Edward ‘borrowed.’

William, by contrast, has a deep affinity with Scotland and Wales, having lived in both nations and gained solace from the Scottish landscape after his mother died.

He’s popular in America and understands that the Crown’s relationship to the Commonwealth must evolve.

The Prince of Wales has long believed that ‘the Royal Family has to modernise and develop as it goes along, and it has to stay relevant’, as he once said in an interview.

He seeks his own way of being relatable, of benefitting everybody, in the context of an ancient institution undergoing significant challenge and upheaval, as the head of a nation divided by hard times, conflicts abroad, and social and political uncertainty.

We might recognise Shakespeare’s powerful line spoken by Claudius in Hamlet: ‘When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.’

With the triple announcement in January and February of the Princess of Wales’s abdominal surgery and long convalescence, of King Charles’s prostate procedure and then of his cancer diagnosis, the burden of leadership has fallen on 76-year-old Queen Camilla and, crucially, on William.

The Prince of Wales’s time has come to step up; and so he has deftly done.

In recent months, we have seen a fully-fledged deputy head of state putting into practice his long-held ideas, speaking out on the most contentious issue of the day and taking direct action on homelessness.

Last June, he unveiled the multi-agency Homewards initiative with the huge aspiration of ending homelessness, backed with £3 million from his Foundation to spearhead action across the UK.

He is consolidating Heads Together, the long-standing campaign on mental health, and fundraises for charities like London’s Air Ambulance Charity.

He was, of course, once a pilot for the East Anglian Air Ambulance services – a profession that had its downside: seeing people in extremis or at death’s door, he found himself ‘taking home people’s trauma, people’s sadness.’

Tom Cruise was a guest at the recent London’s Air Ambulance Charity fundraiser, William’s first gala event after Kate’s operation.

And more stardust followed when William showed that, even without his wife by his side, he could outclass any movie star at the Baftas.

There’s also his immense aim of helping to ‘repair the planet’ itself with his Earthshot Prize: five annual awards of £1 million for transformative environmental projects with worldwide application.

This project has a laser focus on biodiversity, better air quality, cleaner seas, reducing waste and combating climate change. Similar aims to his father; different means to achieve the goal.

On the issue which has caused huge convulsions – the Middle East conflict – William’s 20 February statement from Kensington Palace grabbed attention.

He said he was ‘deeply concerned about the terrible human cost of the conflict since the Hamas terrorist attack on 7 October. Too many have been killed.’

There were criticisms – along the lines of ‘the late Queen would have never spoken out like this’ or ‘what right does he have to meddle in politics?’ – but it was hard to disagree with his carefully calibrated words.

His call for peace, the ‘desperate need’ for humanitarian aid, the return of the hostages.

The statement was approved by His Majesty’s Government, likely cleared with the King himself at Sandringham the previous weekend and also backed by the chief rabbi of Great Britain, Sir Ephraim Mirvis.

Indeed, William and Catherine had immediately spoken out on the horrors of 7 October.

William followed up the week after his Kensington Palace statement by visiting a synagogue and sending a ‘powerful message’, according to the chief rabbi, by meeting a Holocaust survivor and condemning anti-Semitism.

This is rooted in deep personal conviction following William’s 2018 visit to Israel and the West Bank, says Valentine Low, the distinguished author of Courtiers and The Times’s royal correspondent of 15 years, who was on that 2018 trip.

‘William was so moved by his visit to Israel and the West Bank, he found it very affecting, and he was not going to drop this issue – he was going to pay attention to it for the rest of his life,’ says Low.

‘He must feel that… not to say something on the most important issue in the world [at that moment] would be a bit odd if you feel so strongly about it.’

There was concern from some commentators about politicising the monarchy, but this rose above the particulars of party politics.

As Prince of Wales, like his father before him, there is perhaps space to speak out sparingly on carefully chosen issues.

On this occasion, his views were in line with majority public opinion.

On homelessness, news came that same week that William was planning to build 24 homes for the homeless on his Duchy of Cornwall estate.

‘William’s impact is very personal,’ says Mick Clarke, chief executive of The Passage, a charity providing emergency accommodation for London’s homeless.

‘Two weeks before Christmas, the prince came to our Resource Centre in Victoria for a Christmas lunch for 150 people.

He was scheduled to stay for an hour, to help serve, wash up, and talk to people.

He ended up staying for two and a quarter hours, during which time he went from table to table and spoke to every single person.’

Clarke continues:

‘William has an ability to listen, talk and to put people at ease. During the November 2020 lockdown, he came on three separate occasions to help.

It gave the team a boost that he took the time; it was his way of saying: “I support you; you’re doing a great job.”’

Seyi Obakin, chief executive of Centrepoint, one of the prince’s best-known causes, adds:

‘People associate his patronage with the big moments like the time he and I slept under Blackfriars Bridge.

The things that stick with me are smaller in scale and the more profound for it – in quieter moments, away from the cameras, where he has volunteered his time.’

It is a different approach from the King’s.

As Prince of Wales, he was involved in the minutiae of dozens of issues at any one time, working into the night to follow up on emails, crafting his speeches, writing or dictating notes.

Add to that much nationwide touring over 40 years (after he left active military service in 1976), fitting in multiple engagements, often being greeted formally by lord lieutenants.

This is not William’s style. He has commended his father’s model, but he does things his own way.

Although patronages are under review, William has up till now far fewer than either his father or his grandparents.

Charles is sympathetic to William’s approach and his desire to make time with his young family sacrosanct.

They are confidantes, attested by the night of Queen Elizabeth’s death.

They were both at Birkhall with Camilla, reviewing funeral arrangements while the rest of the grieving family were nearby at Balmoral, hosted by the Princess Royal.

Charles has had almost six decades in public life and is the senior statesman of our time, with even longer in the spotlight than Joe Biden.

After Eton and St Andrew’s University, where he met Catherine, William served in three branches of the military between 2006 and 2013, finishing as a seasoned and skilled helicopter rescue pilot.

His later employment as an air ambulance pilot stopped in 2017, when he became a full-time working royal.

At that time, not so long ago – with Harry unmarried, Andrew undisgraced, and Philip and Elizabeth still active – William shared the spotlight.

Now, after the King, he’s the key man.

He can look back on the success of his first big campaign initially launched with his wife and brother in 2016: Heads Together.

‘We are delighted that Prince William should have become such a positive and sympathetic advocate for mental health through his Heads Together initiative and now well-established text service, Shout, among other projects,’ says the longtime CEO and founder of Sane, the remarkable Marjorie Wallace CBE.

‘It is not always known that he follows in the footsteps of his father, the King, whose inspiration and vision were vital in the creation of our mental health charity Sane.

As founding patron, he was instrumental in establishing our 365-days-a-year helpline and was a remarkable and selfless support to me in setting up the Prince of Wales International Centre for Sane Research.’

'Indeed,' says Wallace, 'this is where Prince William echoes the work of his father, showing the same ‘understanding and compassion for people struggling through dark and difficult times of their lives and has done much to raise awareness and encourage those affected to speak out and seek help.

We owe a huge debt to His Majesty and the Prince of Wales for their involvement in this still-neglected area.’

Just as I saw all those years ago at that early solo engagement in Whitechapel, William still approaches his public duties with humour and fun.

‘He defuses the formality with jocularity,’ says Valentine Low, citing two public events in 2023 that he witnessed.

In April last year, while on a visit to Birmingham, William randomly answered the phone in an Indian restaurant he was being shown around and took a table booking from a customer – an endearing act of spontaneity.

On his arrival later that day, the unsuspecting diner was surprised to be told exactly whom he had been talking to.

In October, Low reported, William ‘unleashed his inner flirt as he hugged his way through a visit with Caribbean elders [in Cardiff] to mark Black History Month.

As he gave one woman a hug – for longer than she expected – he joked: “I draw the line at kissing.”

And while posing for a group photograph, he prompted gales of laughter when he quipped: “Who is pinching my bottom?”’

Low believes that when William eventually becomes king, he will be more ‘radical’ than his father but wonders if people will respond to ‘call me William’ when ‘the whole point of the Royal Family is mystique and being different.’

However, William has thought deeply about his current role and is prepared for whatever his future holds.

For now, there is a decision to be made on Prince George’s secondary schooling. It’s said that five public schools are being considered, all fee-paying.

Eton is single-sex and boarding but close to home. Marlborough (Catherine’s alma mater) is co-ed and full boarding. And Oundle, St Edward’s Oxford and Bradfield College (close to Kate’s parents) are co-ed with a mix of boarding and day.

As parents, William and Catherine aspire to raise their children ‘as good people with the idea of service and duty to others as very important’, William said in an interview with the BBC in 2016.

‘Within our family unit, we are a normal family.’ Which may be one reason why he is so resistant to their privacy being compromised either by the media or close family members.

The 19th-century author Walter Bagehot wrote:

‘A family on the throne is an interesting idea also. It brings down the pride of sovereignty to the level of petty life… a princely marriage is the brilliant edition of a universal fact, and, as such, it rivets mankind.’

If hereditary monarchy is to survive, it must beguile us but also demonstrate its utility, that it is a force for good.

William said in that 2016 interview, ‘I’m going to get plenty of criticism over my lifetime,’ echoing Queen Elizabeth II’s famous Guildhall speech in 1992 ‘that criticism is good for people and institutions that are part of public life. No institution – city, monarchy, whatever – should expect to be free from the scrutiny of those who give it their loyalty and support, not to mention those who don’t.’

William saw close up his mother’s ability to bring public focus and her own personal magnetism to any subject or cause she focused on.

He admires his father’s work ethic, the way he ‘really digs down,’ sometimes literally (I understand that gardening is giving the King solace during his cancer treatment).

But the biggest influence for William was Her late Majesty, as he said on her 90th birthday.

As an Eton schoolboy, William made weekend visits to the big house on the hill, being mentored by Granny rather as she had been tutored in the Second World War by the then vice-provost of Eton, Sir Henry Marten.

William said in 2016:

‘In the Queen, I have an extraordinary example of somebody who’s done an enormous amount of good and she’s probably the best role model I could have.’

That said, his aim was ‘finding your own path but with very good examples and guidance around you to support you.'

Queen Elizabeth II had a brilliant way of rising above the fray and usually being either a step ahead of public opinion or in tune with it.

If you are at the helm of affairs in a privileged hereditary position, your duty is to serve and use your pulpit for the benefit of others.

In a democracy, monarchy is accountable.

The scrutiny is intense, with an army of commentators paid for wisdom and hot air about each no-show, parsing each announcement, interpreting each image.

William takes the long view. He has ‘wide horizons,’ says Mick Clarke.

‘There are so many causes that are more palatable and easier to achieve than ending homelessness, but his commitment and drive are 100 per cent.’

The prince seeks a different way of being royal in an ancient institution that must move with the times. His task? To develop something modern in an ever-changing world.

He faces all sorts of new issues – or old issues in new guises.

Noises off from within the family don’t help – Andrew’s difficulties, or the suggestions of prejudice from Montecito a couple of years ago (now seemingly withdrawn), which prompted William’s most vehement soundbite: ‘We’re very much not a racist family.’

William is maybe a new kind of leader who can keep the monarchy relevant and resonant in the coming decades.

Queen Elizabeth II is a powerful exemplar and memory, but she was of her time. William is his own man.

He must overcome and think beyond ‘the unforgiving minute.’

Indeed, he could seek inspiration in Rudyard Kipling’s poem, If.

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch[…]

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

This article was first published in the May 2024 issue, on sale Thursday, 28 March.

[icecream4starscream]

Starscream (The Movie)

Chapter 7: The Call

Notes:

In the skies of WWII Berlin, pilots have reported sightings of a ghostly aircraft, a phantom jet eerily similar to the game-changing Messerschmitt Me 262's being developed in secret by Nazi engineers. While the Luftwaffe fliers see this "Ghost" as an omen of good fortune, one disillusioned German mechanic discovers the mysterious plane hidden in his barn, somehow disappearing and reappearing at random, and quickly realizes that, for this machine, there's more than meets the eye...

Sneak preview:

Skyfire shifted uncomfortably as he and Star waited quietly for the Academy head-bot before them to cease whatever seemed to take more precedent over the two mechs before him, which at the moment seemed to be arranging the materials on his desk. One didn't need to scan Star's electrical impulses to tell he was growing madder by the klik. Skyfire, becoming more and more uncomfortable by the moment, tried to distract himself as his optics wandered about the room, eventually landing on a recent news article on the desk which read: "FIRE REDUCES JIHAXIAN ACADEMY TO CLINKER WASTE! Faulty propex-conduit identified as cause of devastation, Senator Shockwave struggles to safely relocate J.A.A.T. students." At long last, the head-bot looked up sternly at the shuttle and seeker before him. He frowned, as if disgruntled by their presence. "I'm sure you both know why I called you here." Skyfire cleared his intake. "Yes, si-" "No." Skyfire glanced over to Star, who glared back at the head-bot defiantly. "I really don't know why either of us are here." The head-bot scowled, inhaling deeply. Skyfire could tell it was taking a great deal of effort for him to maintain his calm, authoritative demeanor. "Given your records, we found it necessary to arrange special observation procedures in the upcoming exams." "Is there a problem with said records?" Skyfire felt his tank tighten as he heard the aggression in Star's tone rise. The head-bot's digits clacked against the surface of the desk. "You two have been prone to receiving accusations of misdemeanors-" "Of which, a single one has yet to be verified." growled the seeker. "Innocent misunderstandings, to be sure." Skyfire waved his servo quickly, trying to maintain the peace, "Mistakes happen to the best of us." "Indeed." scowled the head-bot, clasping his servos together, "Which is why we're taking measures to ensure there will be no mistakes in calculating your credits."

Skyfire's faceplate dropped. "Has there been some compromise in the system?" he asked in genuine concern. "No," The head-bot shook his helm, "Nothing we can confirm anyway." "Have our marks been unsatisfactory?" pressed Star. "Your marks have both been quite exemplary." "Then what exactly-?" "Too exemplary." Skyfire and Star balked at the thinly veiled accusation. "Any school worth its sulfur can pride itself on maintaining the highest standards, only if it can enforce academic integrity with equal measure. Since you two managed to produce some of the highest marks in this academy's history, and given your...backgrounds, it's only prudent the board follows through, ensuring they accurately reflect your scholarly capacity." "We're observed every test-!" The head-bot cut Star off. "Therefore, you two will be monitored very, VERY closely in the upcoming exams. We've given you the courtesy of advance notice only to affirm your assurance that neither of you will disturb or disrupt our regular attendees with any ill-thought-out displays of impudence. You both should carefully consider how your conduct reflects on this school. Is that clear?" Skyfire's spark flickered apprehensively as he heard the seeker's wings click in anger. If they stayed much longer, he knew Star was going to burst.

Context-free spoilers:

[dcdreamblog]

Hey, I must admit my knowledge of our world’s superheroes is limited (not that I am from another Earth) so I was wondering if you could point me in a direction. I think a while back you answered a question on superheroes supporting the disabled (like the Metal Men) and I was wondering if you know of any superheroes who are disabled and deal with alienation from society. I am Autistic, and given the current push in this America to create a list of us, I could use some heroes to inspire me.

The big example I know of is the Doom Patrol (gosh the original team seem relatable, they are flawed but there is something comforting in them not being perfect) but I don’t know how accurate the books I’ve found on them are. Like the books list their birthnames. I know WWII is more your expertise, but what can you tell me about the original Doom Patrol connection to the disabled? I believe their leader was paraplegic, and I found a news clipping of Robotman entertaining kids at a charity event for a children’s hospital, but I was wondering if you can share more.

And if it’s not too much, do you know of any Autistic superheroes? And please don’t bring up the Black Manta rumors, that’s a conspiracy theory to demonize us. The man just hates Aquaman, there’s nothing more to it. It’s like when folks try to diagnosis this Luther, sometimes people are just evil, they don’t need to be neurodivergent to be cruel. And having low empathy isn’t monstrous. Now having empathy and choosing to ignore it? Terrifying.

...see that sounds like something that would EXCLUSIVELY be said by someone who IS from another Earth but I'm gonna take my own advice and not worry about things that don't affect me.

You're right in that if you wanted to find role models for disabled superheroes the Doom Patrol is the first place I'd look. Two of their core "superhero" members of the team are the ones we can take the closest look at (I specify superhero members because the Doom Patrol has long since become something of a support group for those disabled by their metahuman mutations or dealing with a disability at the same time as their metahuman mutations as such their less public members don't have readily available information)

(A picture of Negative Man and Robotman meeting representatives in the front room of the team's Midway City manor/headquarters) Robotman - Cliff Steele is a name that might be known to any racing fans in the audience he was a VERY successful NASCAR driver back in the 70s and 80s. One with a history of getting himself into a lot of rockstar style trouble. Until a tragic accident on the race track left him in a state that should rightly have killed him save for the intervention of Dr. Niles Caulder. Caulder was able to save Steele's brain and put it into a robotic body. While this isn't a traditional disability it HAS put a massive strain of Steele's life. He lost years to the procedures and construction required to bring his new body online and due to the nature of things he can no longer smell, taste or feel and his body is constantly at risk of mechanical failures that leave him severely weakened or immobile.

Negative Man - Larry Trainor was a famous test pilot with a long service record in both the military and private sector until his test of an experimental space plane sent him crashing through a band of unidentifiable radiation in the upper atmosphere. His entire body was irradiated and he was 'infected' with some kind of alien organism made up of that radioactive energy. Ever since Trainor has had to wear lead lined bandages at all hours of the day because being in his presence otherwise would put people at risk of radiation burns and an unpleasant death. Trainor has also, in recent years, come forward with his experiences as a gay man in the military before the implementation of even Don't Ask, Don't Tell. The Doom Patrol's original leader, a brilliant scientist named Niles Caulder is indeed a paraplegic but I hesitate to use him as some sort of role model for disabled superhumans simply because of his own ethical failings. It was discovered that he was responsible for the accidents that lead to the original members of the Doom Patrol ending up in his care and several more incidents besides. Some members of the team have grown to forgive Caulder, some have not and his role in the organization going forward has become a subject of some division within the group.

As for Autistic superheroes I'm afraid there's not much I can tell you for certain. The obvious fact is that autism cannot be diagnosed by sight and superheroes have secret identities, if they're not giving out their real names they certainly have no reason to share their personal medical data. Many heroes have been claimed as autistic or autism coded, everyone from the Martian Manhunter to the young speedster Impulse/Kid Flash II/Flash IV has shown facets of the condition but its hard to say (I slightly balk at attempts to claim the Manhunter for the obvious reason that a medical autism diagnosis of the man would be farcical, he's not even human and his brain obviously doesn't work the way a human brain does, diagnosing him of ANY human ailment would be ridiculous. But people calling him "Autism Coded" if it makes them feel better are free to do as they please.) The thing I am sure of, in a general sense is that there are probably dozens of superheroes on the autism spectrum. There were autistic men and women on the Justice Society (if you wanted my own obscure guess I would not be shocked if Wesley Dodds had been an autistic man) and there have been on every team since on down to this very day. That's just the way it is, they may know it, they may not and it would be impossible for us to know from our perspective. Like you said, being autistic would change who they are or the things they do or the reasons they do them.

[twelvemonkeyswere]

I was rewatching the pilot and I gotta say that even though CBS Elementary wasn't perfect by any accounts, it did have something a little surprising to me at the time for a procedural, which was that the character growth was planned from the start. They made the characters' relationship not just fun to watch but ultimately the beat of every season.

Sherlock begins the story arrogantly rejecting Watson and any form of support, while Watson begins the story feeling adrift and discontented with her current life. And the whole purpose of putting them together is that we can see them not just clash but challenge each other into improvement. Watson not only gives Sherlock an opportunity to express himself and his struggles with his addiction/sobriety but also she constantly calls him out on his bullshit and invites him to allow himself to heal and get closer to people. Sherlock gives Watson the space to truly look at herself and examine what she wants of life, calling her out on her bullshit when she takes refuge in old habits and inviting her to pursue the goals she really wants, to not be afraid to make unorthodox choices.

And to me, that level of reciprocity is what really makes it work.

You can see that progressing every season. "What are they now, and what are they becoming, and how are they getting there" is the real beating heart in the story and what keeps everything moving episode to episode. And every season a new aspect of their friendship and partnership gets explored, going from strangers who drove each other mad to, ultimately, life partners supporting each other through everything. It's a beautiful thing to see blossom and the reason why the show always gets recommended among Sherlock Holmes fans. Maybe very few of the cases really stick to your mind but all that fades in the face of Holmes and Watson's partnership.

[thatsrightice]

HOW TO BECOME A FIGHTER PILOT

So as you may or may not know, I am writing a fanfic. Unfortunately for me, I can never do things half way, and because aviation is my passion I must do hours of research on a particular subject that I probably won't even use or reference in said fanfic. Here is a guide for how our favorite characters (probably) became fighter pilots. If there are inaccuracies let me know, I want to know :)

United States Naval Academy

The USNA is an undergraduate college that is a combination of academics and military development programs. Students who want to go into Flight School could qualify with one of a variety of different majors, but there are particular majors that obviously may provide a bit of an advantage to aspiring pilots. The USNA currently offers a variety of different majors and minors, though there are fewer than you might expect from a typical university, and overall the degrees are more tailored towards the Navy. They encourage participation in athletics in the form of a Varsity or club/intramural sport(1). 

NOTE: Maverick likely attended a regular college and was a part of the Naval ROTC program at that school. He would have gotten his degree in a field relevant to aviation, likely Mechanical Engineering given his mechanical aptitude seen in Top Gun Maverick, and then attended the 13-week program called Officer Candidate School. To be honest, Maverick’s path within the Navy is a mess and impossible to follow but in the most straightforward scenario, he would go to flight school following Officer Candidate School.

Flight School 

Flight School is an approximately 2-year-long program that is required for Naval Aviators to earn their wings. Primarily located at the “Cradle of Naval Aviation” aka Pensacola, FL, flight school consists of many different phases that will divide students into different specializations. 

1. Naval Introductory Flight Evaluation (NIFE)

Divided into four phases, NIFE is a program that evaluates students’ aeronautical aptitude as well as screens them to ensure they’re capable of becoming aviators. Students may earn a “pink sheet” for any score below 80% or a failure of a task, requiring them to stand before a panel of instructors to explain why they failed and how they plan to improve. Too many pink sheets result in removal from the program(2).

1a. Water Survival Training Following medical clearance, students are taught and tested on their ability to swim while wearing flight gear as well as formerly instructed on various survival techniques and CPR(2).

1b. Academics  A 3-week phase where students take classes and exams in five subjects. It is condensed to test a student’s ability to retain information, learn new information in a high-stress environment, and challenge their self-discipline in regard to time management and other areas(2).

1c. Introductory Flight Screening (IFS) Students are entered into a 2-week-long modified civilian flight training program where one week is dedicated to ground school courses before they must conduct a series of flights in a Cessna using Navy flight procedures during the second week. Students had to memorize and prioritize information to complete the flights, specifically in regard to conducting pre-flight briefings and emergency procedures. Overall, they’ll conduct seven flights in which they are required to complete a set of standardized maneuvers(2). 

1d. Aviation Physiology A week-long training course that consists of emergency-specific training evolutions such as the hypoxia chamber, emergency first aid, and the “helo dunker.” The “helo dunker” (from what I understand) is a particular training device that consists of strapping a pilot into a cockpit-like or helicopter contraption within a pool and submerging the entire structure under the water, simulating an environment in which their aircraft has landed in the water and they need to escape from the seat(3). An image of this can be seen below(2).

The Top Gun cast had to undergo a similar training course in order to be allowed to fly in military airplanes for filming. A video of some of their training can be viewed below.

2b. Aviation Pre-Flight Indoctrination

A 6-week long program that marks the beginning of the aviation pipeline. Located in Pensacola, FL, students attend classes covering the basics of aerodynamics, weather in relation to aviation, air navigation, flight rules and regulations, and aircraft engines and systems (3). 

Prior to API, those interested in becoming Radar Intercept Officers (RIO) will have expressed their interest and requested a designation as a Naval Flight Officer (NFO). 

2c. Primary Flight Training

A 6-month-long program that teaches the students the basics of flying. There are two locations for Primary, one at Training Air Wing 5 at Naval Air Station Whiting Field in Pensacola, FL, or Training Air Wing 4 at Naval Air Station Corpus Christi in Corpus Christi, TX. Both Naval Air Stations (NAS) are taught the same curriculum and fly the same aircraft, the T-6 Texan II. The students learn about the instruments, flight basics, radio instrument navigation, formation flying, and aerobatics, and also conduct several solo flights. At the end of Primary, students choose which pipeline they would like. This is conducted depending on the needs of the Navy and how many spots are available(3). 

Obviously, Iceman, Slider, Goose, Cougar, and everyone else got Jets, though they may not have gone through flight school at the same time. 

2d. Intermediate Flight Training

Intermediate Flight Training is a 27-week program. Split into five platforms; Jet, E2/C2, Helicopter, Maritime, and E-6 TACAMO. The jet platform flight training focuses more on navigation, air traffic control, individual skills, and cooperative skills of flying jets. The intermediate flight training program for jets is located at Meridian, MS (Training Air Wing One) at either VT-7 or VT-9, and Kingsville, TX (Training Air Wing Two) at either VT-21 or VT-22, both of which teach the same curriculum. Students in the jet platform will complete 58 graded flights in the T-45C Goshawk jet trainer aircraft(3). 

2e. Advanced Flight Training

Similar to Intermediate Flight Training, the program is split into five platforms but lasts 23 weeks. The students will probably have stayed with the same training squadron throughout the intermediate and advanced flight training. This stage includes learning skills specific to the chosen platform. The Advanced Flight Training program for jets is what’s called the Strike Syllabus. The Strike Syllabus includes an additional 67 graded flights in the T-45 covering air combat maneuvers, low-level navigation, tactical formation flying, and aircraft carrier qualifications. Students will then graduate from Advanced Flight Training with the Wings of Gold(3). 

3. Squadron Selection 

The final selection process assigns naval aviators to a particular squadron based on the needs of the service. Naval Aviators are assigned to a fleet replacement squadron or other similar training assignments for further training on their specific aircraft type. Here, RIOs and pilots must become qualified by gaining the required flight hours and meeting the proficiency standards necessary.

NOTE: It’s kind of hard to figure out when exactly the RIO training occurs. I know it takes place over the course of all the primary through advanced training occurs as well but I’m not sure if they have to attend seperate courses for it. 

TOPGUN

From there, pilots and RIOs may have been moved to their first official squadron for deployment. They would have been in their first squadron for approximately one and a half years, deploying with them. Their squadron would come back from a deployment and during the stand-down time before their next deployment, their commanding officer would select them to go to TOPGUN.

Sources

(1) https://www.usna.edu/homepage.php

(2) https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/2944668/nife-lays-foundation-for-naval-aviation-training/

(3) https://www.cnatra.navy.mil/tw4/flight-school.asp

[pray-montana]

As someone who is also a despicable me fan I’d love to hear some headcannons for Valentina (as someone who struggles with making headcannons I’d like to hear some from another persons view)

Thank you very much for your question. I couldn’t even imagine that someone would be interested in my opinion about the DM characters!

Unfortunately, the summary about Valentina is quite vague, but this has its advantages. So the field for thought becomes much wider ✍️✍️✍️

I'd like to start by saying that Valentina is an ally, but also independent of Maxime and his views on villainy (not like Harley and Joker.) This makes her not only a modern woman but also a strong character if the writers aren't lazy. It’s a pity that her summary and explanations contain no specific facts, other than the fact that she is cool and a proponent of a healthy lifestyle💀

• I think that in her relationship with Maxime, she is the voice of reason. Even if he believes that he's the head of the family, he makes the final decisions after considering her reasonable arguments. She's able not only to convince Maxime, but also to cheer him up in the worst times, even if it doesn’t seem so at first.

• Compared to Maxime's bright appearance and eccentric behavior, she silently shows who is trash here.

• She, unlike Maxime, is a perfect pilot of their giant ship. Plus, judging by her emotions in some of the shots, she really enjoys it! In this, I understand her 🏎️💨

• Sofía Vergara claimed that Valentina's arrogant personality also concealed a soft side. I believe that this side is personified in her dog, who, in contrast, looks very friendly. At first I even thought that it would be better for them to even swap pets with Poppy.

• I think she was that rich straight-A student in high school. BUT! It wasn't for nothing that she was considered the coolest girl at the Lycée. She looks very intelligent, reserved, and calculating, which is perfect for a villain. C'mon, she got her boyfriend out of jail?!?!?

• She has a whole ritual of preparing for going out, from beauty procedures to choosing outfits and combing her pet's hair. But Maxime still gets ready longer, even though he has half as much to do.

• Valentina looks like a trendsetter. She probably has a whole collection of branded shoes, handbags and other luxury items.

• Valentina is SINCERE in her relationship with Maxime. Have you seen the shot of her smiling enthusiastically when he shows her his invention? God, I want to wish this dynamic for everyone who wants to find a healthy relationship.

• I'm convinced that she knows a lot about humor, and in a way that not everyone will understand: Valentina will joke with the same serious face and voice as usual. You just need to listen to the words. (Perhaps her vibe is somewhat reminiscent of Daria series?)

• I think she actually doesn't treat Gru badly and may even enlist his help in the film. At the meeting, she simply doesn't care about Gru and everyone else. But she'll only help to take revenge for the sake of Maxime... as long as it's sounds like a good idea

• I think that before her relationship with Maxime, Val was disdainful of insects. However, she then worked through the issue and became neutral with it. By the way, she vibes like a dragonfly, don’t you agree?

• Val had to get used to the fact that her partner was special not only in personality but also... Well, in general, at the moment she has no problems with Maxime's features. Great message about accepting other people. I respect that!

• She may be soft on the inside, but she doesn’t act like she’s being overly cute. She looks like an adult woman and shows gentleness, attention, and care like an adult too.

• She often has to save Maxime from trouble, even from the stupidest ones, like a flytrap. But it doesn't annoy her at all🤲

• I am convinced that Valentina was the one who instilled self-confidence in Maxime and offered him a way to present himself, based on his hidden qualities!

In any case, I am sure that the relationship between Valentina and Maxime will be harmonious not only within the framework of being villains, but also as ordinary people. They don't look like people I'd want to wish bad things upon.

[beardedmrbean]

WICHITA FALLS (KFDX/KJTL)— As technology continues to become more accessible around the world, it is becoming easier to see how it affects children and teens.

In an attempt to get a handle on the presence of technology in schools, Dr. Donny Lee and the WFISD are hoping that implementing a new cellphone policy can help reduce technology-related issues in the school district.

There are more child deaths from hot cars in Texas than anywhere else in the US

“Starting issues on social media, bullying other students during the day on social media,” Dr. Lee said. “So, we’ve noticed a whole host of issues, mainly beginning in the secondary levels at junior high and all the way through the high school.”

The new pilot program, set to begin at McNiel and Hirschi Middle Schools, will be implemented through a partnership with Yondr. At the beginning of each school day, students will place their phones in a Yondr pouch, which is locked with a magnetic lock. They can unlock the pouch at the end of the day. La Vega High School in Waco uses Yondr pouches, and within the first six months of using the pouches, student disengagement dropped from 20% to 8%. The number of disciplinary incidents dropped drastically as well.

Though La Vega High School and other schools around Texas showed generally positive results with Yondr, the approach has parents in Wichita Falls torn. Franklin Fokun has a child attending McNiel Middle School. He sees the pouches as a potential positive for the district.

“The phones are supposed to be controlled,” Fokun said. “They don’t have to go to class with them, so they have to keep them somewhere. Then after that, maybe during break you have access, and after that we’ll go back to class, keep it there. So, I think that’s a good idea.”

Jessica Weaver, a mother with a child attending Barwise Middle School, is less enthusiastic about the new policy.

“I don’t like the idea, not with all the school shootings and stuff like that,” Weaver said. “I want my kid to be able to get a hold of me if he needs to, or just even a mental health day. If he needs something, I want him to be able to reach me.”

Given some parents’ concerns, Dr. Lee said keeping students safe is still the highest priority for the WFISD. In the early stages of the policy, parents will have to put more trust in the hands of the district and its safety procedures.

“The safety of your kid is our top priority, but if there’s a thousand different messages going out in the event of a crisis, it’s going to be mass chaos and we’re not going to be able to address the issue,” Dr. Lee said.

If the policy shows improvements in discipline and classroom engagement at McNiel and Hirschi, Barwise Middle School will be the next WFISD school to partner with Yondr.

[kopiicryptid]

Can you yap about Squidwashing?

Oh my god OP you're gonna so regret this/lh

SquidWashing AU: LORE EDITION‼️

CW: Spoilers for Mouthwashing and Season 2 of Squidgames, mentions of death, assault, what you can typically expect from these two medias.

Gonna start by discussing the world-building then hop to the characters!!

So in this universe, Pony Express is still a giant company, although far from financial ruin. They're actually more of monopoly if anything, just consuming more and more business enterprises. While the company itself isn't majorly relevant to the plot, I like to think the people up top are somewhat involved as VIPS or sponsors of the game. Part of me is tempted to say that Polle is also an actual person in this AU as the one in charge of the games or even as player 001 in season 1.

In addition, the layoffs are still relevant in this AU. With the rise of AI and technology, they ended up dismissing a huge portion of their workforce to cut costs and because human labor has become unnecessary. However, the real ulterior motive here is that they laid off employees that they knew were financially struggling a.k.a. most of the lower-working class in their company, which in turn creates more fodder for the games. It's a coincidence that Pony Express just can't help but to take advantage of.

The games themselves are held on a massive ship in space, called the Kraken. It travels far from where usual transport lines cross so there's little chance of the contestants being found. It's only close enough to some lines just for the sake of importing materials and things needed on board, otherwise, you can argue that all the contestants are practically stranded in space. Given that rich people are investing in this, there's enough money for them to build giant rooms and decks on this ship, along with utilizing technology like simulators, holograms, etc for the games.

Now onto the players!

Curly - #456

It's obvious that he of all people plays our main lead, player 456 in place of Gi-Hun. He's won the game before so now he's back to save people and put an end to it. His first time in the games was mostly people he didn't know aside from a couple of coworkers he's known for quite some time and people from long ago. Either way, it's enough for him to feel such survivor's guilt that he can't just sit back and do nothing.

As to why he's in the games, it's partially similar to Gi-Hun's. Years ago he participated in a worker's strike against Pony Express, one that got violent and left him with some PTSD. Ever since, he's been struggling to hold a job due to how technology-driven their world is, most piloting jobs are done by automatic systems so he ends up doing odd jobs here and there, small deliveries and such for cheap. However, losing his job from PE left him with crippling debts that have yet to be paid, and it doesn't help either that he had a habit of loaning money to less fortunate friends of his, so there's not much for him in the bank.

After the first games, Curly, like Gi-Hun, spent his money and time investigating the games, but it all boiled down to him knowing that it'd be near impossible to take it down from the outside. He'd have to do so within the games themselves. During his investigations, he also discovered the potential involvement of Pony Express, yet there's still not enough evidence for him to present...

Anya - #222

Although this was another obvious choice, I'd like to say there's a lot of change in terms of Anya's story and that of #222's/Jun-Hee's. Anya is still pregnant in this AU and yes it's Jimmy's (I'll get to that in a bit), but instead of wanting the money so that she can raise the baby, it's so she can afford the abortion and have money left over for medical school because of how the procedure would take all the money she has left.

Now for the pregnancy, I still wanted to make it Jimmy's because I didn't want to erase that from the source media after all. The two know each other only because were coworkers at some minimum wage job, but they weren't that close. You might ask why doesn't Anya tell the others about Jimmy, she can't. In this AU, all of them are strangers to each other except for Curly, Jimmy, and Swansea, and Swansea only knows Curly. She wouldn't feel comfortable just dropping that bomb onto a bunch of strangers, it’s not an easy thing to confess something so personal to someone you just met. Especially when she realizes that Curly and Jimmy are close friends. Not to mention, I don't think she'd want this to define her, Anya would try to focus on the games themselves without causing further unnecessary drama. She knows this team is the only group she can rely on to survive, so she's taking advantage of it all she wants, even if it means dealing with Jimmy. There's no point in bringing up something that could tear them all apart or worse, put her on Jimmy's hit list.

In a way, these two have a mutual understanding that the r*pe is something they're keeping under wraps because Jimmy knows Anya has the power to tear him down with it, and doing so is Anya's way of keeping Jimmy in check. A way for her to regain some kind of control over him, if you will.

Jimmy - #001

Jimmy's story is the most different from his character here, and I envision his storyline and personality being a mix of #218/Sang-Woo from S1 and #001/Frontman from S2. He went to piloting school with Curly and was fairly good at it. He and Curly were close friends, although they slowly drifted after graduation due to their jobs. Jimmy fell from grace when he kept screwing up jobs and got reported at work one too many times, that and a few problems in his personal life like getting into fights, picking up bad habits, etc, going from a dependable pilot to a washed-up nobody leeching off of all his connections.

It should be obvious why Jimmy's in the games but what's less obvious is why he's a traitor. Rather than being the Frontman, Jimmy's working with the Frontman. After hearing that Curly was coming back to the games to stop them and then finding out that Jimmy used to be a close friend of his, the Frontman struck a deal that they'd guarantee Jimmy moderate assistance in the games, in exchange for keeping Curly in line. And of course, Jimmy took the deal with no hesitation, but in reality, he's just another pawn on the board.

And like #222's ex in the show, Jimmy at one point goes to Anya and tries to convince her to keep the baby, that their money combined will be enough for them to start a family. Obviously, this is just a tactic for Jimmy to control most of the finances and it's him fooling himself, thinking that he could 'turn a new page' by pursuing a 'normal' life. Anya declines, and rightfully so.

Swansea - #390

Ironically, Swansea is the most disconnected from #390/Jung-Bae in terms of personality, yet his story is quite fitting. Alongside Curly, Swansea was a participant in the PE worker strikes, which also meant that he lost his job and ended up with barely enough to support his family, especially with his looming alcoholism. On the brink of a divorce, Swansea joined the games in hopes that the money would convince his wife to stay with the kids and that he could afford rehab in the process. He's simply a man who wants to keep his family together, but deep down, there's a cynical part of him that just wonders what would happen if he let it all fall apart then and there.

Out of everyone aside from Anya, Swansea was the first to catch onto how suspicious Jimmy was, confirmed only when he witnessed Jimmy kill another player without hesitance, just like Jung-Bae did with the Frontman. On a different note, Swansea has the same slight parental instinct that Jung-Bae did to #388, who in this case, is obviously Daisuke.

In relation to Curly, Swansea is closer to Curly here than in the games, mainly for the fact that they were coworkers for years in Pony Express and kept some contact after the strikes. I like to think Swansea invited Curly to his home on occasion, and that his wife welcomed him too, pitying that such a nice man was struggling so much.

Daisuke - #388

After seeing so much fanart of Daisuke and #388/Dae-Ho, I had to watch S2 and jump on this AU, so thank that for the reason I'm even yapping. Daisuke's backstory is also different here, maybe a little drastically. Daisuke and his mom were refugees escaping a warring region when he was fairly young. Years later, they became citizens of the region they're in and are considerably well off in terms of career, yet his mom still has numerous debts to be paid from the process of citizenship and the years she spent on her education so that she could provide for Daisuke.

Daisuke decided to participate in the games to relieve her debt, and hopefully make her proud.

And yes, the warring region mention is relevant since Daisuke ends up having a PTSD episode similar to Dae-Ho during the player uprising. Also, it's partially me projecting my SE Asian background and history onto one of my favorites, sue me I guess. Daisuke likes to boast that he's a brave kid with a mean swing and how he managed to escape a war so the games are light work.

So if you've made it this far, congrats! I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas if you have any! I definitely have some more, but for now, I just wanted to make a basic post to establish the roles and world around it. If you guys make any content based specifically on my version of the AU, PLEASE TAG ME, PLEASEEEEE!! Also...

Bonus // Atlas - #120

Because why not? There's no harm in me inserting my Mouthwashing OC and plus, they actually really fit #120's/Hyun-Ju's character.

Just like Hyun-Ju, Atlas is a trans person, although their assigned birth gender is private and they're specifically a trans-nonbinary individual. Besides needing the money for the rest of their operations, Atlas is also impoverished and hopes to use the funds to finish piloting school. In this AU and their official canon, Atlas is ex-military; they worked in special forces as a unit captain and used the money to afford their surgeries. However, after an incident that caused them to voluntarily step down from service, they became severely indebted and eventually homeless.

Atlas is aware of Anya's pregnancy and knows Jimmy and Curly well through word of mouth in the few years of piloting school they attended, but they were hardly friends or acquainted with the two before the games. They're suspicious of Jimmy, however they're more suspicious of the Frontman and those in charge of the games. The games were a rumor in the special forces, and something about the Frontman seems familiar...

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Feeling oddly nostalgic seeing an unexpected smattering of Pacific Rim posts on my dash. Made me wonder where the Jaeger Pilot AUs have gone, all the fun drift compatibility stuff? I suddenly rather badly want Aylin and Isobel being in each other's heads and being super used to and excellent at being in each other's heads, in a giant winged robot fighting kaiju. With a big sword. It's called... the Lady of Silver or something like that. Notable for its unique silver shield ability that has saved their crucially positioned shatterdome on many an occasion.

Oops, I have ideas manifesting in great numbers… putting them under the cut.

Aylin is some sort of Jaeger Program wunderkind who's been involved with it pretty much all her life, and who is not truly drift compatible with anyone for the same mysterious reason she is incredibly great at piloting - she can pilot a jaeger all by herself for great stretches of time, which is unheard of and very much Not Recommended, but she seems to have a near-supernatural ability to bear and recover from the mental and physical load. And so I guess they… let her do it and kind of wash their hands of it because they can't really afford to be picky, and she's just so damn good at it and very efficient, and, ultimately, it's her own nervous system to fry, right?

Until, of course, Isobel bursts onto the scene. She isn't even at the base in a piloting-related capacity, initially - her father is the general that runs it, and she is some sort of medical expert, has devoted her life to studying the drift and related phenomena and its effects on pilots, and is ultimately seeking to improve it and the neural interface somehow. So she's working with the pilots, checking in with them pre- and post- missions and similar, and then during some fairly routine test it turns out that she and Aylin are drift compatible on some totally unprecedented and miraculous level. Also, obviously, they're in love and Isobel shows actual care and concern for Aylin's well-being as a person rather than a weapon and all that good stuff.

Isobel decides to take to the frontlines, go through training and become a pilot, showing great aptitude herself. The two pilot the Lady of Silver with resounding success for a while, despite Ketheric's disapproval (among many other things he cites as concerns, Ketheric's long-ago drift partner was his wife, Melodia, who died of illness related to the imperfect radiation shielding in the old jaeger models).

The future, for a while, seems bright, their contribution is really turning the tide of the conflict, especially when it comes to Isobel's super special shield… until Isobel is targeted and killed, or near-killed, mid-mission, mid-drift - Aylin just barely survives the incident, something nobody would have ordinarily survived, managing to bring whatever is left of the jaeger (and Isobel) back to base somehow, at great personal cost. Ketheric blames her for everything - officially for some misconduct and the failure of the mission, privately for not protecting his daughter, and has her court-martialled and jailed. But then it turns out that for the same reason Aylin was extraordinarily capable at piloting while also being horrible to drift with initially, her abilities can be harnessed using a process developed by Ketheric's chief scientist Balthazar, and so she gets regularly taken out of her special solitary confinement and plugged into some kind of interface that enables Ketheric to pilot the extremely powerful jaeger, now rebuilt as Nightsong, by himself (at least, that's what it looks like to an outside observer). The shield, however, remains impossible without Isobel.

Years later, Isobel gets brought back to life, or out of whatever suspended state she was being kept in, via some unprecedented and horrifying experimental procedure Ketheric authorises his creepy head scientist Balthazar to perform, possibly involving using actual kaiju-related DNA/parts/tech etc., something from beyond the Breach and created by the Precursors (I needed to look this up, but it might go great with extra helpings of the Absolute brain-fuckery parallels - like, say, they have developed damaging and invasive "T.A.D.P.O.L.E." tech trying to supplant "regular" drift), the very enemies they are supposed to be protecting the world from. Obviously Ketheric has in the meantime secretly switched to actually collaborating with them, in his obsession with bringing Isobel back, and this is causing a huge crisis and endangering the very existence of humanity.

Then, well, things happen with other characters presumably involved, also Jaheira is there taking over the shatterdome, but ultimately Aylin and Isobel are reunited after Ketheric's defeat and ousting. And they still return to drifting and fighting the good fight in their reclaimed jaeger, even though they are both, honestly, extremely in danger of chasing the rabbit and all that, but they can't bear to idly stand by in the face of innocents, nay, the world being in danger. You know how they both are.