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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 3 years

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Barry Bluejeans is dead before he hits the ground. As he rises from his broken body, he is reeling. He casts a gaze up to the silver behemoth that has served as his home for a century and feels sick; if liches can even truly feel sick, that is. He feels his form start to crackle and lose its stability; he’s panicking. He’s scared. He’s alone. He realizes that there is a puzzle that he doesn’t have all the pieces to. There are things he doesn’t know and things he suspects but can’t stomach the implications of.

What he does know is that he is both relieved that he can clearly picture Lup in his mind and sick that he can also clearly picture the sheer bewildered horror on Taako’s face before he blasted Barry to his death. He holds onto that thought of Lup. Thinks of their time in Legato, of them falling solidly and totally in love, of Lup not even hesitating when Barry first suggested, very seriously, that they become liches. As he focuses on his thoughts of Lup, he feels himself calm and his form follow suit.

Another thing Barry knows is that this body is shot. As he looks down at himself (is it himself? He still can’t decide if his body is really him anymore) he is struck by how bizarre it is. He’s still not gotten used to the phenomena that is seeing his discarded body when he’s in his lich form. Another glance up at the Starblaster. He knows that, more likely than not, he is never going to be back in a body. This is the last plane, they all agreed on that. Still, something compels him to collect some of the blood leaking out of his crumpled form. Might come in handy for a rainy day.

Barry Bluejeans is triumphant for the first time in months.

It feels good, considering he’s had to come to terms with the fact that his little sister has…he doesn’t want to say betrayed the family but it certainly does feel like that. He’s tried to check in on everyone when he had the time but it hurts to not talk to them and that simply isn’t an option. They wouldn’t recognize him. He’s not even sure if he could talk to them without major interference from Fisher.

Anyway.

It took a good deal of time, tracking down contacts he’d made when he hid the Animus Bell, but he’d managed to find an auction of less than savory, very powerful goods. While he is still disappointed that he didn’t see a single relic in any of the offerings, one particular lot lit a fire in him. See, there were a few pods for auction that, with organic matter from a creature, could regrow a body identical to the body at the time the organic matter was harvested. At some point during the bidding war he’d waged with a shifty-looking Tabaxi, he found himself hoping that he’d be growing a Barry Bluejeans from before he was blasted off the ship.

But now, several thousand gold poorer, he has a chance. He’s clearing gerblin corpses out of the cave he’s secured for himself and knows he’d be grinning if he had his body. Once the pod is set up, he tosses his months-old blood into the brackish green liquid. He knows it’s going to take time, but he has a chance.

Barry Bluejeans is confused, naked, and alone. He chokes out a lungful of opaque green ooze and looks around wildly at the cave he finds himself in. The pod he woke up in is easy enough to get out of and he’s startled to find a letter in his own handwriting on top of a trunk next to a coin. He continues to cough as he reads it, certain that some of the ooze is still sitting in his chest, making it heavy and hard to breathe.

If the letter wasn’t in his own handwriting, Barry knows he wouldn’t believe it. But the letter assures him he was of sound mind (and body is written beside it but it’s crossed through. Odd.) when it was written. The letter urges him to keep looking for…that’s weird. There are words on the page but they shift and slither so he can’t really read them. But Barry’s smart. He figures out that there’s a very important person he’s looking for, perhaps the most important person he has ever and will ever meet. And there’s an object. Seven objects. And a moon that isn’t really a moon? He frowns; didn’t really give himself a whole lot to go on, huh?

The coin elucidates a bit more information. Sure as the sky is blue, that’s his voice on there. So, he sets out for Phandalin and hopes these instructions help him find whatever it is he’s looking for.

Barry Bluejeans is dead and furious. Leave it to him to waste months of work by slipping on a cliffside. For even more months, Barry will be alone. He knows he has to hurry back to his hideout to ensure she doesn’t track him down but he’s so close to Neverwinter’s city limits- something compels him to the outskirts. Sticking to the shadows, he hears of an opportunity. He hears vague whispers of a dwarf who’s aiming to reclaim his family’s birthright; he hears tales of a lost mine said to contain vast riches and powerful weapons. Barry speaks rapid-fire into his coin. It’s essentialthat he finds this Gundren Rockseeker, get hired in some capacity (he’s unsure how but certainly he’ll be able to figure something out), and stick by him. Barry knows in his spectral bones that that is precisely the kind of place Lup would have tried to stash her relic. Maybe Gundren knows something about the Gauntlet, about Lup and where she went. Perhaps Gundren’s the key to a happy reunion.

Barry Bluejeans is a fierce fighter and a competent bodyguard. He’s proved that much to Gundren Rockseeker, a dwarf that the coin in his pocket implores him to stick with. Gundren seems convinced and tells him wild tales of the riches waiting in the depths of Wave Echo Cave. Gundren also makes it clear that Barry’s job is simply to ensure safe passage to the cave. Evidently, Gundren’s an essential part of opening the vault deep in the bowels of Wave Echo Cave. He also makes it clear that three others will be joining the journey, though they’ll be following half a day behind. It’s a routine quest and Gundren expects no trouble.

Barry Bluejeans rises from the ashes of Phandalin and almost gives up a decade of work. He’s distinctly aware of the fact that it was Lup’s relic that destroyed him this time. Her relic’s been found so where in the world is she? She’s not with Taako. She’s not with Barry. She’s still so profoundly lost. Barry latches onto that dull, enormous weight in his chest. It hurts him but he knows he can’t give up. Not now. He can’t stop until he finds her. He’s alone but perhaps… perhaps not for very much longer. He managed to find his friends. His family. And mark his words, he’s going to find the love of his life.

Barry Bluejeans is having trouble coping with being a villain in the eyes of his family. He so desperately wants to let them know that he is not their enemy, that their enemy is growing closer to finding them each and every day. That they can trust him. That he doesn’t want to hurt them. He hopes he’s able to make that clear through his actions. He hopes it’s enough.

Barry Bluejeans is full of regret and shame. He sees his family locked in a living hell by the two liches that he hand-delivered the Animus Bell to and is doing everything in his power to stop it. It seems that the Umbra Staff is just as motivated to end this suffering. It’s strange, Barry thinks, the staff seems to have grown significantly in power since the first time it was created. Must be a result of the consumption of magic.

Barry Bluejeans is alive and surrounded by people who claim to know him. He isn’t sure why, but he believes them.

Barry Blujeans is alive and he remembers everything. He remembers that source of that dull ache in his chest and he remembers just how many times he’s had to remember. He remembers just how long he’s been without his family. Without Lup.

Barry Bluejeans is alive and Lup…she is phantasmal and resplendent, like the suns from their home, like the suns of every plane that has been devoured by the Hunger. She is here and Barry longs to hold her.

Barry Bluejeans is alive. His family is alive. And, as he feels a sleeping Lup shift in his arms, her body only a few hours out of the pod, he is happy. He is complete. He is triumphant. He is no longer alone. Never again.

#barry bluejeans #taz #taz balance #the adventure zone #i have many feelings abt this man and felt compelled to write whatever this is #anyway enjoy!#reese writes #tazb

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not-wholly-unheroic · 4 years

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On the Origins of Hook: The Complicated and Often Contradictory Backstory of a Villain

The story of Peter Pan has been told and retold in writing, on the stage, and on the big screen countless times, yet in the original storyline, we are thrust into a world with a pre-established (and presumably long-standing) relationship between its hero and villain with little information regarding their pasts. So far as the audience is concerned, Peter and Hook have always been a part of the Neverland...yet as evidenced by the many retellings that attempt to answer the question of these characters’ origins, clearly, people want to know more. Barrie, however, leaves a great deal to the imagination and while he tackles a bit of Peter’s past in The Little White Bird, there is significantly less information about Hook in his writings, and much of it is up for debate, as Barrie arguably contradicts himself.

In terms of canon (which for the purposes of this article I am limiting to Barrie’s final published version of the novel), much of what we know about Hook can only be inferred from a few brief passages. In the initial introduction of the pirates, Barrie gives us the following description of Hook:

In the midst of them, the blackest and largest in that dark setting, reclined James Hook, or as he wrote himself, Jas. Hook, of whom it is said he was the only man that the Sea-Cook feared. He lay at his ease in a rough chariot drawn and propelled by his men, and instead of a right hand he had the iron hook with which ever and anon he encouraged them to increase their pace. As dogs this terrible man treated and addressed them, and as dogs they obeyed him. In person he was cadaverous and blackavized, and his hair was dressed in long curls, which at a little distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance. His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly. In manner, something of the grand seigneur still clung to him, so that he even ripped you up with an air, and I have been told that he was a raconteur [storyteller] of repute. He was never more sinister than when he was most polite, which is probably the truest test of breeding; and the elegance of his diction, even when he was swearing, no less than the distinction of his demeanour, showed him one of a different cast from his crew. A man of indomitable courage, it was said that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his own blood, which was thick and of an unusual colour. In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles II, having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts; and in his mouth he had a holder of his own contrivance which enabled him to smoke two cigars at once. But undoubtedly the grimmest part of him was his iron claw.

From this, we may be able to draw a few conclusions about who Hook was before he came to the island. (1) He was likely a sailor, if not a pirate, BEFORE he met Peter, given that he had previous interactions with “The Sea Cook”--that is, Long John Silver. (2) He was alive and most likely an adult by the mid 1700s, as in Treasure Island, Billy Bones--a former crewmate of Silver’s--has the date 1745 in his log and the dates 1750 and 1754 on his treasure maps. (3) Hook’s hairstyle and fashion is similar to that of Charles II, whose reign ended with his death in 1685.

We are also informed by John that Hook was supposed to have been Blackbeard’s bosun. Blackbeard was born somewhere around 1680 and may have been a privateer earlier in his career at sea, but he didn’t actually take up piracy until 1716 and had only a very brief reign of terror before he was killed off the coast of North Carolina in 1718. Assuming Hook was meant to be Blackbeard’s bosun after he went pirate, this gives us a pretty narrow window of time during which Hook might have interacted with him. And, if we take the comment about the Sea Cook seriously, then Hook must have been pretty young at the time he worked for Blackbeard, given that there is a twenty-seven year gap between Blackbeard’s death and the earliest date Billy Bones offers in connection with Silver.

Hook also uses words and phrases such as, “Pan, who and what art thou?” which would seem to indicate that he is from a time period centuries before the Darlings come to visit. (“Thee” and “thou” had pretty much completely fallen out of common use in English by the late 1700s/early 1800s.)

So far, so good. The dates might make it a bit of a stretch, but we can pretty comfortably say that prior to Neverland, Hook was a sailor--and probably a pirate--during the 1700s, was likely born in the late 1600s, and was possibly a related to Charles II, who had many illegitimate children. This possibility fits nicely with Barrie’s statement that, “Hook was not his true name. To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze.”

We don’t know much about his parentage, however, except that Hook’s voice cracks when he is speaking to Smee about mothers regarding the neverbird’s refusal to leave her eggs even after the nest falls into the water. Whether this is because he was close to his own mother and is lamenting her loss or he had a rather indifferent (or even cruel) mother and he is lamenting his own lack of a loving childhood is up for debate, though the official sequel, Peter Pan in Scarlet--written in 2006 by Geraldine McCaughrean--favors the second interpretation. (Again, however, for the purposes of this article, I am only considering Barrie’s published novel as canon.)

We also learn that Hook attended Eton, a rather prestigious school for boys between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. Assuming Hook completed his schooling there and was, therefore, at least eighteen by the time he joined up with Blackbeard, it would place his being born somewhere close to 1700. Assuming his interaction with Long John Silver was, at the earliest, probably around 1745, and that this interaction happened prior to his visiting the Neverland, it puts Hook (physically) at approximately age 45 by the time we meet him in the book, give or take a bit.

There are two potential problems with that timeline, however. (1) In Barrie’s original novel, only Peter stays young forever. The boys can technically grow up, and Peter “thins them out” when they do. (Decide for yourself whether that means banishment or something worse.) If this is the case, Hook shouldn’t still be alive or, even if the aging process is slowed down, at the very least, he should be an old man, given that the Darlings visit in the early 1900s...making him at least two hundred years old. (2) Near the end of the book, when Hook is trying to convince the boys to join his pirate crew and John asks innocently whether they would still be loyal subjects of the king, Hook responds with, “You would have to swear, ‘Down with King George!’” John (and likely the audience) assumes here that Hook is talking about King George V, who would have been the present king of England at the time the novel was published. If this is the case, how does Hook know who the king is? Has he been able to leave the island and find out this information? Or is Hook, perhaps, from a more modern era than we suspect? Cleverly, Barrie leaves this question open-ended, as Hook could just as easily have been referring to King George the First, who ruled England from 1714 until 1727.

As for personal hobbies, we know only that he loves flowers and plays the harpsichord--an instrument that was once quite popular but which had fallen out of favor by the 1800s, replaced by the piano.

The rest of the information we get from Barrie about Hook’s origins comes primarily from his “Hook at Eton” speech, delivered in 1927--many years after his original play (1904) and novel (1911). And here’s where things get interesting (read: contradictory). Because he wrote the speech so many years later, as a sort of afterthought, and because of the inconsistences with the novel, I personally reject this information as canon. Nevertheless, it is Barrie’s take on his own character and, therefore, is worth at least considering.

In this work, we are told that Hook not only attended Eton but also--at least briefly--went to Oxford. This in and of itself poses no major problems for the timeline suggested by the novel. What DOES pose a problem, however, is the fact that Barrie claims to have been in contact with Hook’s “Aunt Emily”--apparently his closest surviving relative--and has been in search of possible photographs of Hook during his time there. This would indicate that Hook MUST be from a much later, more modern era than the book suggests, as photography didn’t really come into fashion until the mid-1800s, and even if “Aunt Emily” is quite old (and she is likely a good fifteen to twenty years OLDER than Hook if we assume she is near in age to one of his parents) at the time of Barrie’s supposed meeting with her, she couldn’t have reasonably been expected to have been born before the early 1800s, placing Hook’s own birth nearer to the 1850s. While some of the information in the novel might be explained away to fit with this date (his choice of dress and hairstyle, for instance), he could not possibly have interacted with Blackbeard or Long John Silver. In fact, he could not have been a pirate--at least, not in the traditional sense--at all, as the Golden Age of Piracy (1650s--1730s) had long passed and the Age of Sail ended in the 1860s. Because of this inconsistency, some have argued that Barrie may have intended Hook to be a more modern man who essentially became trapped in a child’s fantasy land. He became a “pirate” only AFTER his interactions with Pan--that is, he took on the role of a villain because that is how Peter and the children imagined him--and that John’s assertions about his interactions with Blackbeard and Silver are merely rumors that the boy has heard.

Setting aside this apparent contradiction in the timeline, we DO learn some other interesting facts about Hook. For instance, Hook’s blood (which was said in the novel to be thick and strangely colored), is specified as having been yellow. This, along with his appearance having been described in the novel as “cadaverous” has lead some to conclude that Hook was likely rather sickly as a child. We also learn that Hook enjoyed the Lake poets and strawberry mess (a dessert), collected keys, performed well in sports while at Eton (though he did not like water sports as he rather surprisingly hated the feeling of water on his skin), and played the flute. We also learn that he was politically conservative and was probably never in a romantic relationship.

There are a few other bits of information about Barrie’s idea of Hook that can be found in the early manuscripts for the play, which feature “deleted scenes.” One such manuscript--the earliest, I believe--can be found here. (Though good luck with reading it without going cross-eyed because Barrie’s handwriting is BAD.) However, I think this post has gone on long enough, yet we are still left with many unanswered questions. But perhaps this is what Barrie intended all along. Perhaps, fittingly, we are ultimately left to fill in the blanks about this villain of the Neverland with our own imagination.

_____

Thanks to @katherinenotgreat for asking me to do a post on Hook’s origins. Thanks also to @concordia-cum-sinistro for your input. Feel free to add your own information regarding the original manuscript drafts, as I know you are more familiar with them than I am.

#peter pan #captain hook #captain james hook #james hook #jm barrie

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crystalelemental · 3 years

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Since @patchun brought up Hugh as a rival, here’s my personal take on each rival character in Pokemon, because I’m bored.

Blue - I actually do like the guy, and I think that overall he’s a solid rival. Story-wise, he’s one of the few that is always one step ahead of you, and clears the entire league before you. His team is solid, and he makes adjustments based on the starter Pokemon he picks. I also think he’s just kinda fun. He’ll make excuses about why he lost (”I picked the wrong Pokemon!”) and gives you shit as someone he considered less than him, but there’s still some level at which he’s like “Oh hey, you’re improving!” He’s a solid rival character.

Silver - I kinda feel like Silver isn’t really your rival, he’s just someone that shows up a lot that you have to deal with. Like it’s never entirely established that the two of you are competing, he just wants to kick your ass for funsies in all his earlier encounters, and only comes to respect you at all at the end of his entire quest. Which is cool! I actually like Silver a lot, I think he’s got a ton going on and is a pretty unique change from Blue. Blue was super invested in the League and being the best, while Silver’s also about being the best, but seems to have little interest in the League itself. His motives are outside of the League, and frankly outside of your own. He grows into the role of rival to the player more as a result of Lance’s comments to him and his own soul-searching. I think that’s great.

Brendan/May - And then there’s these two. I’m not entirely sure what the plan was behind these two. I’ve heard they shifted off of the antagonistic rivals because bullying was a problem, and that’s why every rival since has been your friend rather than an opponent, but these two aren’t even that really. They barely exist. As characters, they rarely show up and don’t really do a whole lot at any point, and as a rival trainer, they’re so bad they never fully evolve their starter. Brendan and May are, to me at least, the worst rivals in the series. If it was because they thought early rivals were too mean and toned it down, they did so without accounting for any alternative traits to make them interesting, but at least they started getting it right soon after.

Barry - I actually really like Barry. Initially, he was a bit annoying with the whole “I’m fining you!” gimmick, and being supremely absent-minded half the time, but he grows on you a lot. Kinda like Blue, Barry spends most of the game ahead of you, and is a pretty competent trainer. But instead of being aggressive in his rivalry, he is your friend and acknowledges how good you are. He never seems to even acknowledge his defeat to any extreme degree, he’s just having fun and doing his own journey while using you as a point of comparison, while still taking this really seriously, in part because his father is a renowned trainer that he wants to live up to. Which is solid. Also I gotta admit, the situation with the lake guardians was really cute, how Rowan recognizes him and gives him the tougher mission, how into it he gets, and then how hurt he is that he wasn’t able to protect Uxie. Barry just a sweet kid and a solid rival.

Cheren - Cheren is much like Barry, in that his focus is on battling at its core. Contrary to Barry though, Cheren is actively irritated that he can’t seem to beat you. He keeps pace with you, but I don’t think actually gets ahead of you at any point in the story. If anything, he’s interesting because he’s someone driven by the same journey to be a great trainer that you are, but is coming face to face with the realization that he’s not making the same gains, and may not be able to achieve that initial dream. He has to adapt, and ultimately settles into the Gym Leader role, and is a bit of a mentor in BW2, which is really cool. That’s really what makes the BW rivals so good, is that instead of just being another super good trainer who’s ahead of you all the time, they explore the idea of someone who wants to be the best but isn’t, and how he handles that. I like it a lot.

Bianca - Best rival, fight me. What makes Bianca interesting is that she’s kinda like Brendan and May, in that she’s not...really here to be a spectacular trainer. She is but she isn’t. She starts out on her journey to become a trainer, but isn’t super motivated by competition like Cheren. In fact, Bianca doesn’t really know what she wants to do at all. What makes her interesting is that change from being just another trainer to battle, to finding her own path in life that doesn’t involve the competition. It’s not what she wants to do, and I always really liked that. She eventually settles on being a professor’s assistant, and I think it’s great seeing her settle into a role that makes her happy. The series has always posited this idea that people exist with Pokemon in different ways, but this is honestly the first time we really get a rival who comes to engage with Pokemon and battling in a different way from the usual.

Hugh - I don’t like Hugh. I get the attempt with him, and appreciate it. A lot of Gen 5 centers around Team Plasma, and in this case, Hugh is a character who was directly impacted by their actions when they stole his sister’s Purrloin. He was a child and couldn’t do anything, so he’s grown up resentful of Team Plasma and determined to become strong enough to protect his sister and those he cares about. He’s along on your journey to improve, but never once does he seem all that invested in the League itself. He’s more invested in taking down Team Plasma and getting his sister’s Purrloin back, and all of that should come together into a really cool rival for this generation’s thematic narrative. His problem is really just that he talks. “You’re about to feel my rage!” Hugh, please. You’re embarrassing me in front of Zinzolin. I can’t say I hate Hugh, but I feel like he’s a character who just missed the mark they were aiming for, largely by being more of an edgy nuisance than an interesting character study.

Serena/Calem - I am only talking about these two because fuck the XY friend group. Honestly, they’re...pretty forgettable. Like I honestly can’t remember any significant personality traits from them at all. They’re like Brendan and May, only slightly better because they keep at it even if they’re constantly behind you. I think by biggest problem is how they never feel like they amount to much thematically. A big focus in XY is meant to be on scarcity. Mega Bracelts are rare, and not everyone can own one or utilize mega evolution. You battle them to get one, which by default means they don’t. And that sets up some interesting ideas, right? Like, how does that impact things? When there’s legitimate scarcity and not everyone can make use of this, are you willing to crush the dream of your childhood friend to make your own come true? Well actually it doesn’t matter because it’s never really brought up. The great tragedy of XY was lost potential, and the rival’s a big source of that.

Hau - Hau is...a mixed bag for me. On the one hand, SuMo. On the other, USUM. In SuMo, I like Hau a lot. He feels a lot like Barry, if Barry didn’t give a shit about competition. Hau is very laid back as a rival, and challenges you while attempting to keep pace, but ultimately exists to have fun and enjoy his journey. This is the trait that makes him and Gladion such fun counterparts. But then USUM rolls around, and makes up this whole subplot about how he’s not actually trying and that this is a betrayal of his Pokemon? And then it leads to this whole crisis where suddenly he’s super invested in competition and being the best, and ends up as your Champion battle? And it just doesn’t feel as interesting. If anything it feels like USUM’s eternal Gen 1 dick sucking coming back to reference your rival as the champion, rather than actually focusing on the character’s development.

Gladion - Okay, I really like Gladion. He’s a bit more like Silver than anything else, in that I don’t think he ever like...expresses wanting to be your rival? He just shows up and challenges you because fuck you in particular. But through interactions, and your eventual assistance with stopping his mother and breaking down those emotional walls, Gladion grows into someone who still wants to be a great trainer, but is no longer driven by the need to be the best to protect his sister and stop his mother. Rather, he just learns to enjoy competition for its own sake. And I really like that! I feel like he’s Silver, but refined to be a more interesting character.

Hop - Okay stop me if you’ve heard this one. Hop’s a rival who’s invested in the competition, and is largely driven by living up to a family member’s legacy. He’s generally friendly, but expresses intense dissatisfaction with his performance because he can’t beat you or Bede. He’s been competitive, but ultimately very laid back until a sudden realization that he needs to try harder and is suddenly super driven to become the best. His post-game arc is entirely about finding out that maybe he doesn’t want to be a trainer all that much, and finding his own calling, which is a professor’s assistant. That’s Barry, Cheren, Hau, and Bianca, in that order. I do not love Hop. I don’t hate him. There are definitely worse rivals with less going on. But Hop feels like an amalgamation of previous rivals rather than his own being. He goes from laid-back but invested in your rivalry, to super serious and determined to be the best, and ending on maybe not even wanting to be a trainer that much. It’s a weird shift in his journey that I don’t think meshes as well. He takes the parts of these previous rivals that made them interesting, but it turns out slapping them all together makes a character that’s less than the sum of its parts. However, I will give points for one thing I actually love about Hop: when he keeps losing, he completely changes up his team. That’s something no rival has done. Minor adjustments, like Blue dropping Raticate, have happened, but we’ve never seen a complete shuffle in who they lead with or what the team composition is. So I do think there’s merit to Hop, even if he’s not my favorite. It could be worse. It could be...

Marnie - A literal nothing. She does announce that you are her rival, so I guess I have to talk about her. She’s nothing. Like, I kinda have to give more points to her than Brandan/May solely because she does at least try, but she never really has anything going for her. Her brother is more compelling than she is, being a gym leader in charge of an area that is really struggling, and trying to showcase that Dynamaxing isn’t required to be a good trainer. Marnie...has none of that. At all. She just has the freedom to be a challenger for the Champion title, and the town is insistent on her winning to prove...something. I honestly do not understand the plan. It wouldn’t change that their territory has no ability to Dynamax, and unlike Piers, Marnie has no qualms about using Dynamax to win. She has no real convictions, and if memory serves only battles you twice. And she’s not exactly that good either time. I never once felt like Marnie mattered. People just liked her design and decided she was great, but she...she doesn’t do anything.

Bede - I’m hesitant to count Bede, but you battle him more often than you battle Marnie, and he does eventually consider you an obstacle to overcome so I’ll count him. Honestly, don’t like him that much, but he’s better than nothing. Bede’s interesting in that he’s kind of a rival that’s ahead of you? At least implicitly. I don’t think we get hard confirmation that he’s beaten any of the challenges before you, but a lot of his battles involve him being in a location before you got there. I do kinda like his arc, in that he’s a bit of an inverted Cheren? In the sense that his ultimate endpoint is as a Gym Leader, but not because he’s looking at things in terms of adjusting his goal due to always losing, but adjusting his goal because it turns out that’s just really what he wants to do. At first he hates it, and his final challenge to you is a means of saying he’ll quit forever if he can’t win, but ultimately he settles into an appreciation for being a Gym Leader, and I really like that. While I dislike him more on a personal level, I will say I think he’s a better rival than Hop. Has more going on for himself, anyway.

#pokemon

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scullysexual · 4 years

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The Ghosts Come Tonight

based on this. I decided to change it to a fic. Not for fictober and it’s not on ao3. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll continue with it because I was for the idea when I started then I few hours later I didn’t like it. If people like it I’ll maybe think of adding to it.

@today-in-fic @mypanicface @impulsive-astrophile

- - -

“I know what I saw…I know what I saw…”

The heavy cell door opens, a floor of light shines in. The speaking man blocks the light with his hand, wincing as the brightness still continues to invade. A room alone, in the dark. This is the first time he’s seen people in a while.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The sound of a pen scratches against paper.

“My name is Duane Barry,” says the speaker. He is different to how he was first presented. Calm, collected, distant as he introduces himself.

“I was born 13th October 1828 and incarcerated on…” the man pauses as if trying to remember the exact date. He gives up.

“Incarcerated 1958 for…for…”

His breath shakes, the calm, cool nature falling away as his face contorts into anguish.

“for…” But the words will not come.

The pen stops scribbling, the scriber looking up to wait patiently. Mulder shifts as the man whines. He knows he won’t get anything out of him.

“What did you see, Duane?” Mulder asks, recalling the words Duane spoke in the cell.

The question makes something snap within Duane. The whining stops, his head shoots up, eyes wide and steely.

“I didn’t kill him.”

Beside Mulder, Skinner shifts and sighs, hearing this proclamation before.

“Okay,” says Mulder. “You didn’t kill him. So what happened?”

Duane eyes Mulder and Skinner cautiously. Hesitant to tell the truth. Something Mulder knows.

With practiced expertise Mulder says, “I want to help you.”

Duane’s eyes move quickly to Skinner. Without missing a beat asks, “What about him?”

“He wants to help you, too.”

With his stare back on Mulder, Duane looks him up and down. A small smile appearing across his lips.

“He’s a cop. You’re not.” He’s proud of himself for that one.

Mulder nods.

“That’s true,” he says. “I’m a psychologist.”

Duane does not know what that is, his look of confusion.

Self-conscious. The colloquial term for his profession is not one Mulder likes to use much. It makes him, and not the mention the patients, feel strange, different, otherworldly.

“An alienist.”

But it’s a word that is most known by most. So Duane nods, now understanding, and leans towards.

“I’ll talk,” he says, his gaze stuck on Mulder. “But only to you.”

Mulder turns to Skinner, his eyes telling him the man is free to go. Being afraid is beyond Mulder, he’s dealt with worse, more violent than the likes of Duane Barry.

And Skinner knows this and so the other man nods, standing up from his chair to leave. Duane’s eyes move over to the scribe. A woman who’s fear shows in her eyes even if she tries to hide it.

“She has to stay,” says Mulder.

Duane sits back, saying nothing.

“What happened, Duane?” he asks.

The scribe get herself set to begin writing again. Shallows, focuses upon her task and not the stare Duane continues to give her.

Duane rubs a hand over his face, his iron shackles clanging together.

“They took us,” he begins and the pen resumes scratching against the paper once more. “We were in the garden and they took us.” His eyes harden once more as he looks at Mulder. “I didn’t kill him!” he almost shouts.

There’s the sound of muttering from outside the room. Mulder turns to the window to where the man in charge of the asylum converses with Skinner. Mulder knows what this means: he’s running out of time.

“Who took you, Duane?” he begins to press but Duane’s demenour has changed once more, he’s reverted back to how Mulder met him, weak and pathetic, muttering over and over that he didn’t kill him.

“Duane!” Mulder shouts, getting agitated as the man in the charge quits talking to Skinner and heads towards the door. “Who took you?”

But Duane shakes his head. The window is closing. Mulder will get nothing more today.

He sits back as two guards enter the take Duane away. As Mulder watches them leave, he meets eyes with Skinner and the other man shakes his head. It’s over for today.

Mulder stands and stalks past Skinner, frustrated and angry once more at the lack of progress and storms down the corridor.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The chatter and commotion outside quiets as Skinner closes his office door. A cigarette is stumped out in a silver ashtray, smoke still emanating from it, the smoker not long gone. Skinner disposes it in the trashcan beneath his desk. He’s only just sat down when Mulder barges into the room, unwelcome and unannounced.

“I want access to the body.”

Skinner’s used to it. The demanding for things Mulder is in no position to be demanding. The impromptu entrance. It’s the collateral damage that is expected when he asks for Mulder’s help.

“What for?” Skinner asks. It was a futile task. Truths that are meant to say buried, never to be unearthed. Duane Barry killed that man, that is the truth. Nobody came for them.

“Barry said he didn’t murder him,” says Mulder. “I want to see if he’s telling the truth.”

A futile task.

“What does it matter?”

One that Mulder is beyond seeing.

“You asked me on this case sir,” Mulder says, the hint of surprise in his voice.

Perhaps it’s Mulder inability to be deterred that will help them.

The file sits on his desk, Skinner looks at that rather than Mulder.

“Go to the morgue,” Skinner says slowly. “When you get there, ask for a Dr Scully.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Three tables. Two either side empty. The middle one lies a body. A man.

Morgues were never Mulder’s favourite places; he prefers live patients to dead ones. Morgues gave him an unsettling feeling.

The body draws him in. A Y incision starting from his collarbones, disappearing beneath a sheet. This man has already been autopsied.

“Can I help you?”

A woman’s voice.

Mulder jumps and spins, bumping into a tray table and knocking the contents off onto the floor. The woman, red-haired and small, looks disdainfully at the floor then at Mulder.

“I’m sorry,” says Mulder, insincerely. “I’m, er…I’m looking for Dr Scully.”

A smile.

“That’s me.”

Shocked. Another smile. She walks over to the instruments on the floor.

“Well,” he extends his hand towards the floor. “I’m Mulder, I’m—”

She looks at him. A knowing look.

“I know who you are. You’re a psychologist.”

Blinks.

“…yes.”

She takes the tools to the sink.

“Why are you here?”

“There’s a body I want to see.”

“You’re seeing one right now.”

Mulder looks at the body on the table.

“N-no, not that body. I was…” He frowns. “Are you busy?”

Scully kicks the wheels, releasing the brakes. “Not right. I just wanted to talk to him.”

“Right, uh…”

Mulder doesn’t like morgues.

It’s a game. She smiles again.

“So you want to see a body?” she asks, rolling the table towards the back doors.

“Yes.” He follows behind her. “I was told to come to you. The body I want to see is Derek Barney.”

Scully disappears through the doors. Mulder hangs back. He saw the bodies and that is not a place he wants to visit.

She re-enters.

“I hope you’re better with graveyards than you are morgues.”

.:.:.:.:.:.

An unmarked grave.

“Disturbing the dead, Mr Mulder. His spirit could haunt you.”

Mulder smiles. He likes her.

“Well, it will have to join the list.”

Two men bring out the coffin.

“You have many spirits that haunt you, then?” Scully asks.

A look to the distance. Long and hard.

“…Yes.”

“Where are we taking it?” one of the men asks. Directed at Mulder.

Um…

“The morgue,” says Scully. It’s the first time the men notice she’s standing there.

“Sir?” the man asks Mulder.

“The morgue.”

The man nods, gesturing to his colleague.

“Maybe I’m the ghost,” says Scully.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Scoop marks. Did she know?

“Did you document these?” he asks.

Scully sits at a desk, allowing Mulder to do what he needs to do.

“Yes.”

“And?”

Bewildered.

“They’re marks. Caused by Duane Barry.”

Right.

“And the marks on his cheeks?”

Calm and cool.

“Caused by Duane Barry.”

A smirk across Mulder’s face.

“So all the things about talking to the dead, spirits haunting you when you disturb them…”

Scully places the pen down.

“I think you take the alien in your profession too seriously.”

Mulder knows he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not a secret after all.

“I told you I knew who you were.”

Mulder nods.

“So you think Duane Barry did this?”

A body rotting away.

She stands up from her chair and walks to the table.

“You believe it was something else.”

“I know it was something else.”

A pause. They stare at each other.

“I just need proof…” Mulder says looking back at the body. He picks up the file, the file Scully wrote herself.

“It’s just hard to do that when everyone else hell-bent on hiding it.”

“But I’m not hiding anything.”

And maybe she isn’t.

Mulder moves closer to her and she reflexively takes a step back.

“Could a man have made those marks, Dr Scully?”

She looks at the marks, rotting away on his stomach.

“Not a man,” she says. “A tool.”

“What kind of tool?”

She looks long and hard at the stomach. Smiles.

“When Barney’s ghosts come to you tonight, why don’t you ask him.”

In the window is a figure. A hand against the glass. Searching. FO—

He looks back at Scully.

“Maybe I will.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Tiny cells. A little girl. His voice. I know what I saw. I know what I saw. A body. A little girl. A body rotting. What does it matter? A girl in the graveyard. A girl behind frosted windows. Searching. A scream, shattering the window. Painful screams.

Mulder wakes. The girl is there.

“Hello, Fox.”

#txf #fic #i write

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anistarrose · 5 years

Text

The Truth About Me and the Truth About You (TAZ Balance One-Shot)

Summary: AU where everything is the same except Tres Horny Boys have the Red Robe’s Stone of Farspeech number.

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979621

Title is from Touch-Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon! (which I’ve referenced for fic titles before but that was a different fandom so shhhh)

This started off as crack and slowly morphed into angst, which is honestly a pretty good summary of my writing process in general. Inspired by a certain MBMBAM bit, and specifically this post by @mspainttaz!

Edit: now with a Part 2!

Barry doesn’t get a lot of phone calls — hardly even enough to justify owning a Stone of Farspeech in the first place — so it startles him when it vibrates, and a wave of excess magical energy emanates from him and knocks several maps of the moonbase off his desk.

“Hello?” he answers, immediately chiding himself for forgetting to disguise his voice.

“Hi,” Magnus replies cheerfully on the other side of the line. “Is this the Red Robes?”

The wisest course of action by far, Barry knows, would be to simply hang up and block the number — but he’s been so lonely, and it’s so easy to visualize familiar shit-eating grins on his family’s faces…

“Yes,” he replies slowly, careful to will a rasp back into his voice. “This is indeed ‘the Red Robes,’ as you put it.”

On the other end, he hears Taako wheeze in the background as he struggles to muffle a laugh, while Merle hisses: “This just a phone number you can call!”

“Yeah, uh — how, exactly, did you get this number?” Barry asks. If they share it with Lucretia, she might be able to track him this way unless he immediately puts some highly specific wards on the stone —

“Oh, Merle won this scrying bowl thing in the Fantasy Gashapon,” Magnus explains matter-of-factly. “Or at least, I think that’s what it was? Leon wouldn’t tell us because Taako stole his candy, so we had to look it up ourselves — but the point is, we asked it for your number and it just gave it to us!”

“Okay, so only like half of those words mean anything to me —”

“They made the Relics and you’re talking to them on the phone!” Taako chortles in the background, evidently not realizing Barry can hear him. “Their number was on Fantasy Scrying Google!”

Barry sighs. He can only imagine how much the boys’ shenanigans must confuse normal people, who don’t have inexplicably hazy memories of search engines from other planes of existence.

“Does L — does your Director know about this? Does she endorse you… prank-calling me, at this ungodly hour of the morning?”

“Oh yeah… we weren’t supposed to be talking to you, we were? Shit.” Magnus genuinely sounds just a little bit guilty. “You won’t tell her, right?”

Barry almost laughs, because he and Lucretia currently are about as far away from speaking terms as you can get, but he catches himself.

Think, Barry. You can use this.

“I suppose I can keep your secret, Reclaimers,” he rasps, “but I will need something in return.”

He can practically hear Magnus tense up on the other end of the line. “What do you want?”

“Simply a few pieces of information. A question for Taako, actually — where did you find that Umbra Staff?”

“With a dead guy?” There’s a rustling sound, as Taako presumably moves in closer to Magnus’s Stone of Farspeech. “Or a dead lady, I guess you said it was — I thought we went over that last time, in the lab? You amnesiac or something?”

Barry narrowly holds back a retort of Not right now, I’m not. If he had corporeal hands, they would be trembling.

“Yes, we did go over that last time,” he replies, “but you never told me where physically. Which is why I’m asking you again. Is that understood?”

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so?” Taako asks him. “It was — uh, let’s see, near where the gauntlet was! Wave Echo Cave, right?”

“Of course.” Barry had already guessed as much, but his mind is still sent racing — if her Umbra Staff was there, why wasn’t Lup? Even if Taako and the others couldn’t remember her, why hadn’t she been with them? He’d always speculated that her lich form had been trapped at the site of her death somehow, but he’d personally gone back to Wave Echo Cave after the destruction of Phandalin, and there had been no sign of her there — and if she had been able to leave the cave on her own, surely she would have long since found her way back to them…

“Can you tell us who you are yet?” Magnus asks, his familiar voice yanking Barry back to the conversation. It’s just in the nick of time, too — Barry watches his skeletal hands resolidify, his fingertips having nearly dissolved into stray, formless magical sparks.

“Maybe in like… I dunno, seventeen episodes.”

“You said ten episodes last time.”

“Well, I lied. That’s what you get for talking me behind the Director’s back. See ya!”

The second his Stone of Farspeech disconnects, he collapses down into a kneeling position, running through the self-collecting exercises he’s honed over the years of loneliness — counting to ten, thinking back to happier days aboard the Starblaster, shifting his vision into the spectrum in which he can make out thousands of glowing silver threads attached to his robe, stretching up through the roof of his cave and towards the moon. It takes a few minutes, but he feels his magic coalesce into a much more solid, almost tangible form — it seems that talking to the boys was a net positive for his stability in the end.

“If Taako can find your umbrella after all these years, then we’ll find you too eventually, Lup,” he whispers. “I promise.”

***

They don’t trust you. How can you get them to trust you, before…

Barry isn’t pacing, exactly, but he is drifting in wide circles around the perimeter of his cave in basically the best way pacing can be approximated by a lich, hoping for an idea to come to him.

Maybe I should have expected it, with all the ominous warnings I gave them, but if I’d acted more cordial, they might’ve started to remember bits and pieces —

On his desk, his Stone of Farspeech buzzes, and Barry just knows exactly who it’s going to be before even he answers.

“Hey, is this the Red Robes?” Magnus’s voice is quieter this time despite his greeting being almost exactly the same, and there isn’t any muffled laughter in the background either.

“Just the Red Robe,” Barry corrects. “There’s only one of me.”

“I opened the tube,” Magnus whispers.

“Oh.” Barry mentally kicks himself — he’d been so focused on trying to get Magnus to trust him that he forgot all about the tube. “Right. I should have known you would.”

He lets the rasp in his voice dissipate as he goes on — Tres Horny Boys haven’t spoken to his living form in about a year now, anyways. Magnus shouldn’t recognize him. “Do you see now why I asked you not to open it?”

“Can you understand it? I know what I saw — hell, I’m looking at it right now and I can see it just fine, but… I know I’m in a red robe like you, but I can’t think anything else about it. It just all turns to — to static. I can’t think.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Do you know why I was in Refuge?”

Barry sighs. “I don’t know if I can tell you. Not ‘cause I’m trying to hide things, but just physically.”

“Is it because of the Voidfish?”

Barry doesn’t say anything.

“I swam in its tank.”

That gets a reaction out of him. “You what?!”

“It showed me there were other voidfish — and then there was a boat, and a — a bunch of moving circles, I think they were supposed to be planes, with a light and this big darker plane —”

“Shit. Magnus, you need — you can’t think about that. You can’t think about what it showed you. If — if certain people find out that you know, then everything — everything we’ve been working for will fall apart —”

“Everything we’ve been working for?” Magnus echoes. It sounds like he’s struggling to form the words — whether due to the static filling his mind, or simply out of sheer disbelief, Barry isn’t sure.

“Oh, no — no, I didn’t mean — ah, fuck, Magnus, it’s gonna seriously damage your brain if you keep up the questions like this. You need to push this all to the back of your mind, and just —”

“Just trust you?”

Magnus still doesn’t trust you. He’ll never trust you — none of them ever will. You’ve ruined everything already, just cut your losses and hang up. Block the number.

He can feel the despair corrupting his form, red sparks leaping down his robed arms — but he can’t hang up, he can’t cut off this line, this lifeline, this bond connecting the two of them, he just can’t. He can only cling to it, and put his faith in his family like always — no matter how little they reciprocate it.

What would Lup do? She’d remember he isn’t in his right mind, but she wouldn’t give up on him, either.

Magnus doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity — is he oblivious to Barry’s breakdown? On the verge of a breakdown of his own?

“What do you think about me?” he finally asks.

“Excuse me?” Barry chokes out. His voice has that low hiss in it again — involuntarily this time.

“Like, what kind of person am I? You… you know things about me that I don’t, even I can tell that much, so… what do you think I’m like?”

Barry answers slowly, afraid of saying something that would get blocked by static — or worse, making another slip-up that Magnus can actually process. He doesn’t want to know how Magnus would react to hearing that the Red Robe thinks of him like a brother, no matter how sincere that sentiment is.

“I think that you can be impulsive in ways that are sometimes… frustrating, but you’re also incredibly dedicated to protecting people, and I admire that. That impulsivity and that dedication, they spring from the same well of — the same well of willfulness, I think, that same well that makes you such a fighter. I don’t know if I could have kept going after something like Raven’s Roost —”

The second he hears the words Raven’s Roost out loud, he immediately regrets them. It’s completely true, that losing a loved one and knowing beyond any doubt that he could never get them back would destroy him, both figuratively and literally — but he shouldn’t know about what happened to Magnus, not in that much detail. Nor should he bring up a painful subject like that, especially given what Magnus thinks of him at the moment —

“I will see Julia again one day,” Magnus assures him in a low, confident voice, as if having read his mind. “In the Astral Plane.”

Barry doesn’t let out a literal breath of relief, but is met with a similar sensation as a wave of stability washes over his spectral form. It’s a far better reaction than he’d dared to hope for.

(Should he tell Magnus that Governor Kalen was long dead, quickly and quietly killed by a crimson lightning bolt that neither he nor any of his mercenaries had seen coming before being tossed in a secluded river, body never to be seen again?)

(No. He’ll save that story for if — when — Magnus can remember who he was, when they’ll all be safe and able to finally rest after eleven long, grueling decades. It still feels far away, that day of relaxation, of freedom — but it also seems tantalizingly closer than it did just a few minutes ago, when the familiarity of Magnus’s voice and the stubbornly persistent hope of finding Lup were the only things holding Barry together, and just barely at that.)

“Well, hopefully you won’t end up in the Astral Plane too soon,” he says eventually.

“Yeah, I —” Magnus’s voice is genuinely warm for a moment, but it cuts off quickly. “Shit, I think I woke someone up. I’ll be seeing you again whether I want to or not, won’t I?”

“Take care, Magnus.” Before anyone on the other end of the line can overhear anything incriminating, Barry switches his Stone of Farspeech off.

***

(Thanks for reading, feedback/reblogs are welcomed as always!)

#taz #taz balance #barry bluejeans #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #taako taaco #rosalia writes fic

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pluviophile-bookworm · 5 years

Text

Thoughts/ reaction to AWAE 3x8

I’m honestly afraid of what I might see in this episode. I have been crying almost all week at the mere thought of what last episode did to Anne and Diana and Jerry, and I’m 100% ready to get that all resolved - but I’m afraid it might not happen. Also, with the Shirbert on-off-on-off pattern that has been going on this season, my hopes aren’t very high for those two. Here’s hoping my worries are in vain.

Ka’kwet is back. Unfortunately, she’s not back, if you know what I mean. I hope she gets out of that place - the “White Man’s Burden School”, as I call it - sooner.

That nun is not acting like a good Christian. Tragically, that is what people really were like - and in some places still are - to people of colour. This cold open is truly nightmarish. I’m starting to fear my worries were not in vain and that I, and the whole fandom as a community, have been set up for much more suffering than any one of us might have expected.

Looks like Ka’kwet will be back after all. That girl’s really smart, but she’s been through a lot. I hope things might be better for her back at home.

I see things are still awfully tense between Anne and Diana - and “tense” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I hope this hot mess is resolved by next week - at most.

I should have been ready for the sight of the schoolhouse burnt to ashes. But I don’t think anything could have prepared me for Anne’s reaction to it. Now I’m crying. I know this is supposed to be a symbol for the end of their childhood or something, but it’s still as devastating as we feared it would be, and then some.

Once again Miss Stacy proves that the world needs more teachers, nay, more people, like her. Managing to find a silver lining and turn the situation around when she was clearly just as devastated as anyone - that was a true heroic act if you ask me.

Wait, where is Anne going?

But of course, she’s immediately holding accountable for the situation whoever she thinks should be held accountable - in this case, Rachel Lynde. Interestingly, she didn’t even know what happened. I mean, she was the only woman in a council of men who tried to speak for her fellow women, wasn’t she? Rachel did some good last episode and she is not at fault for that vile act of cowardice and whatever else Miss Stacy called it.

How is Ka’kwet supposed to find her way back to Avonlea? Is she even going to get back home? I’m worried for my girl.

Everybody being just crammed at Miss Stacy’s is the type of atmosphere and environment that just calls for something bonding and intimate to happen... and Shirbert are there, sitting together, talking... this is like a direct continuation of the porch scene from last episode. I might be clowning, but I think the loop has been broken. Or we might be in for a bigger step backwards next time. I’m clowning.

Bash’s mum seeing Delly warms my heart. We need more wholesome scenes and less suffering. But we’re probably not getting any of that.

Ok, Ruby really is over Gilbert, so much that it’s like she was never “under” him. The fact that she can now talk to Anne about him and Winnifred - right in his face, at that, is a huge step away from the years and years of crushing. Also, she’s totally right that a person can be studious and romantic at the same time. But I’m not sure our Gil here is the best example of it.

I sense some parallels between the scene with the class at the Green Gables barn and this scene at Miss Stacy’s - teasing Gilbert about his “fiance” while Anne is listening reminds me painfully of the “does he have a farm girl” comment about Jerry. And the Anne/ Diana parallel this creates is just pouring salt in the wound their fight gave me last week.

The framing in the next scene is beautiful and reminds me of Shirbert, but I think that’s the only beautiful and romantic thing about it.

Jerry just won’t stop saying “I’m not good enough for you”, and, frankly, he shouldn’t. I just hoped he’d say more. What I really wanted from this episode was for him to give Diana a piece of his mind on the way she made him feel last episode.

“Rude and aggressive”? Jerry? I don’t think so. I didn’t really blame Diana for the way she acted last time, but I do blame her for even thinking that. Is he not allowed to have his own feelings and express them? And what is wrong with telling Anne? If anything, it was wrong of both of them not to tell her sooner. She’s supposed to be Diana’s bosom friend and Jerry’s sister, for goodness’s sake! It shouldn’t have taken hurt feelings to finally let her in on the way things are; or rather were, as they’re certainly not anymore. I can’t believe I’m saying it. but maybe it’s for the better. Even if multiple hearts, including mine, got broken in the process. For something to be fixed, it first must be broken, some say. Then so be it.

Aunt Jo is in Avonlea? Things just got better. And she wants Diana to take the Queens exam. I think she should, too. But it breaks my heart again that she’s apparently not brave enough to try and fulfil her potential. So she was bold enough to kiss Jerry at the fair, thus leading both him and herself on, but not to fight for her own future? I love her and I just can’t sit and watch her do that to herself. But why am I doing this to myself, then?

Mrs. LaCroix acting like a servant and calling Gilbert “Mr. Blythe, sir” was very awkward to watch - for me and Gilbert alike, it seems. But I sort of understand why she did that. Except it’s not making me feel better. It makes me feel worse, if anything. Because I knew she was acting that way because Gilbert is white and she’s not. And that’s not alright. That she’s lived in a society that thought that was alright, was wrong. I hope things get better.

“Uncle Gilby”... Bash has me rolling on the floor laughing once again. And Delphine is still the cutest - she can’t do much more than be cute yet, can she? But I hope she gets to hear a certain love confession about Anne soon. That is the wholesome content we need in these trying times.

Oh my, Ka’kwet, get off that rail! I feel like a worried young mother with this kid. One thing I sure am, and it’s worried. I hope she’ll be safe.

The contrast between the awkwardly stiff atmosphere at the Barry house and the high-level pressure of the class is starker than that between day and night. That’s poetic cinema alright.

Wait, Diana’s doing it! Is my girl back? My girl’s back. I think. I don’t want to get my hopes up too high.

So Gilbert never returned Anne’s pen? I can see why. But it put her in a really uncomfortable position. I’ve been there, and I don’t need to tell you what going into an important exam without the proper tools can do to a student’s psyche. But I know Anne knows better than to let that get to her in this very important moment.

Last episode’s climax left a very big impression on both Rachel and Marilla, didn’t it now?

Are they trying to push Bash and Miss Stacy? I think it would be highly inappropriate. First of all because I don’t think Bash is ready to remarry at all - he might as well never be - and second of all because I don’t think Muriel Stacy of all women needs a man. And I ship her with Prissy now, but that’s another story.

Now that’s another feeling I know all too well - finishing your exams and celebrating your freedom. And I’m glad Diana got to be part of that. I just hope she and Anne can make up soon. That’s pretty much all I can think of.

If Winnie loves Paris so much, let her go to Paris. She shouldn’t need a man for that. Certainly not one whose mind has been occupied by one girl since the day he first saw her. I ship Shirbert as much as the next person and then some, but I also don’t want Winnie’s heart to be broken at the end of all this. She’s a nice girl. She deserves better. Let her go to Paris. No need to drag Gilbert into this for too long.

Let me tell you, Anne’s hair flying loose, lit by the fire, is pure poetry. If I were Gilbert in that scene, I would propose on the spot. But we know that’s not happening.

Anne’s not making any sense and if this were any other couple in a similar setting, this is where he would shut her up with a kiss... but I’m clowning, ain’t I?

“Will you marry me?” Shirbert, and the ring and the dictionary, and the parallels... I’m nearly speechless. Why can’t they just spit it out? Does Gilbert have to go through with the proposal for the final realisation to come?

And... here we are. Except - we’re really not. “My Aunt is visiting me”. That felt like a firm step back on Diana’s part. Will they ever make up? Or will I have to cry for another week straight at just the thought of everything that played out?

Leave it to Aunt Jo to dish out wisdom... hope she can help Anne in this situation, or else the entirety of Shirbert might be at stake.

“Asked Anne”? You didn’t ask anything. You just made her more confused than ever and now she feels this great responsibility about her whole life and yours, too. You shouldn’t have made her feel that way. But I can’t blame you. You two are the two most confused individuals I’ve seen in a long time. But I love you both the way you are. And I know you’ll get there someday.

“She said no”. Seriously, Blythe, were you and I listening to the same girl talk last night? Because I never heard her say no. Or yes. Or give any kind of cohesive answer to the big question you DIDN’T ASK!

Rachel and Marilla are really doing that, aren’t they? And Rachel all cool pouring water while serving one of the most delightfully ironic of ironic echoes I’ve ever seen... “No need to be hysterical”! Ha! #started from the bottom #now we’re here

My, my! Ka’kwet has been through quite the journey... but she’s finally home. Wonder what will happen when the “whites” find out, though.

Goodness! Minnie May’s really had it, hasn’t she? Honestly, it was about time someone in that family said something about the lives they lead - it was time someone told it like it is, and... why did I actually expect it to be Minnie May? Why does this little girl have to do the grown-ups’ job? I guess it’s just the way of the world. I just hope this doesn’t end in disaster.

Okay, I’ve been waiting for this all week, and it’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Far more beautiful.

Wow, that was some realisation! “I’m in love with Gilbert Blythe”. Took you long enough, Anne! Now go do something about it before it’s way too late. Gosh, we will be clowning so hard next week.

To sum up what we saw in this episode: Ka’kwet finally escapes the “White Man’s Burden” school of nightmares and takes the long road home; lots of tension between Anne and Diana; the school is ashes and those responsible for it aren’t getting away; Gilbert thinks he’s sure about Winnifred; Derry is dead; lots of parallels, all heavy on Shirbert; Bash’s mum “knows her place” - or does she really?; Diana takes the exams with zero preparation (respect!); Rachel and Marilla tear down the patriarchy; Minnie May does the grown-ups’ job; DiAnne is back; Anne sets us all up for a lot of clowning.

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photolover82 · 4 years

Text

The Masked Singer Season 3 Episode 13: The Battle of the Sixes (Commentary & Guesses)

Hello my Masked Singer loving friends! It’s that time of the week, time for Ana’s Masked Singer Recap. We are nearing the wire with the Masked Singer, now down to the top 6. So, ya, now the judges are like in their aha moment & they are going on the same page as me (and most of the internet as I saw from YouTube & Twitter comments), so we are going to honor the judge who got it with a trophy emoji because they deserve a trophy & a round of applause yelling FINALLYYYY YESSSS! Anyway, the guest judge for this episode was pro chef & the Simon Cowell of the culinary world (think about it, that’s a pretty accurate description for him), Mr. Gordon Ramsey, so the contestants had food clues called “Masked Munchies” which we will be talking about. Anyway, let’s get started! (Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead, proceed with caution.. don’t say I didn’t warn you)

Alright, so let’s start with the elimination/mask coming in 6th place (I kind of wanna do their places from now on) was:

*SAD DRUMROLL PLEASE*

THE ASTRONAUT 🥺😭

Ok, so yeah I was really upset by this one. Seriously?! He went out wayyyy too early in my opinion... his performance of Story of My Life by One Direction was amazing & it showed his vocal range, I loved it. He was one of my favorites on the show (only him & Turtle are my faves), so I am so sad to see him go. I adore him & not like just Astro but also who he is (which I knew from his first performance... actually from the promo of his first performance haha)

Having said that (and cried a bit out of disappointment), he was revealed to be...

HUNTER FREAKING HAYES

Notice how I said freaking in between his name. It’s because I genuinely adore Hunter Hayes. I am not a country fan but I like love him. If I were older (we are 8 or 9 year apart age wise), I would 100% wanna date him, because I genuinely think he’s super cute and so talented... and did I mention that I love him? Because I do! Ok, anyways, having said that, bitch ofc I knew who he was from Day 1 baby! His voice is so distinct & the new clues gave it away as well:

Masked Munchie: King Cake = Hunter is from Louisiana where this cake is a delicacy for celebrations

Crawfish= his hometown is the crawfish capital of the world (again I say Louisiana baby!)

Alright, not a clue, but let’s give the 🏆to Nichole because she ended up guessing as her final guess Hunter Hayes, hallelujah! To the other judges, it was a no from me, dawg.

Alright, so here we have it our top 5, baby! It’s not the top 5 I would’ve hoped for because Astro isn’t there, but it’s fine, I still am routing for my main man, Turtle.

Anyways, let’s look at the remaining 5 & do some commentary on their performances/reiterate why my guesses are all spot on:

1. The Kitty

Performance: Ok, so she sang “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend” by Marilyn Monroe and I really don't think this was her best performance (not her worst either, but not her best). I was expecting more from her to be honest. It wasn’t her best in terms of vocal ability. I just don’t feel like the song fit her voice nicely or as great as others she has done in the past. I think the song choice was a bit off for me.

Guess: Jackie Evancho

Clues:

Masked Munchie: Cake identified by Gordon as an Opera Cake= Jackie is known to be an opera singer

Silver Apple= album called Songs from the Silver Screen

Nobody gets a 🏆 because none of the panel guessed it even though Gordon Ramsey was the closest.

2. The Rhino

Performance: First of all, I am a bit salty that he didn’t leave so I am going to be a little more critical with him because I thought he should’ve been eliminated & not Astronaut. Ok, so he sang Die a Happy Man by Thomas Rhett and yes it was his best performance yet, but it doesn’t compare to the other contestants. He’s great and all but the other masks have more personality than he does and more vocal ability too.

Guess: Barry Zito

Clues:

Masked Munchie: Spaghetti & Meatballs= reference to his last name Zito, Italian & sounds like Ziti (baked Ziti, get it?)

Yoga clues in the package= Zito is really well known for doing yoga & meditation before and after his games.

Alright, for this one, let’s give the 🏆 to Jenny McCarthy-Wahlberg for finally connecting the clues. *round of applause*

3. The Frog

Performance: Ok, again, I am gonna be critical, but this is mostly because I don’t like Frog and that he’s way overhyped, sorry I said it, if you like him, good for you, but no I don’t (I know a lot of people who do but I personally don’t). However, I do gotta say that this was his best performance and he did do something different which is what I wanted him to do in the previous round. He sang “Whatever it Takes” by Imagine Dragons, and it was surprisingly really good. I just, I don’t know, there isn’t any versatility in his vocal ability like some of the other contestants who can go into falsetto or a high note (or actually sing and not just rap, no shade just facts).

Guess: Bow Wow

Clues:

Masked Munchie: Cat Fish= someone pretended to be him on the show Catfish & also it is southern (he lives in Atlanta)

Holding a basketball= “basketball is my favorite sport, I like the way they dribble up & down the court”

Alright, not a clue, but let’s give the 🏆 to Robin, YESSS I am so proud, I could cry (but I won't because I saved my tears for Astronaut’s elimination, yes I am still salty). What I really liked from him getting it was that Nichole was like ya it could be Bow Wow and there are a lot of Bow Wow clues, but no it ain’t Bow Wow, it’s Omarion... really Nichole?!

4. The Night Angel

Performance: Yeah, oh no I am going to be critical again, yikes. Yeah, she can sing and has a great voice, she sang “Black Velvet” by Alannah Myles, which showcased her vocal range. I don’t know I just think that she is trying so hard to belt every note out that it’s getting repetitive. Omg, yikes I feel like I am being harsh, I swear I am not, I just don’t think this was her best performance.

Guess: Kandi Burruss

Clues:

Masked Munchie: Crickets on a stick = co-wrote “Bug-a-boo” by Destiny’s Child

Rotary phones in the clue package= reference to her group Xscape’s 2nd album off the hook

Alright, not a clue, but let’s give the 🏆 to Jenny again but I am not surprised she guessed it because she kind of got it previously but second guessed herself a few times so.. I kind of believed in her. I was losing hope in Robin tbh.

5. The Turtle

Performance: Ok, I saved the best for last aka my favorite ever! Did I think his performance was his best one yet? No, by any means, but I was happy to see that he did choreography. I loved the dancing, he really was being competitive with Frog, which I think is super smart of him to do. The singing is amazing, like always, but it didn’t show as much of his vocal range that I know he is capable of freaking doing some beautiful falsetto and I kind of missed it a bit. However, he really did stepped it up and performed the crap out of that song, which was Stay by Alessia Cara & Zedd (not my favorite song tbh).

Guess: Jesse McCartney

Clues:

Masked Munchie: Chips & Apple Salsa = he is from NY aka Big Apple

King chess piece with a heart over it= he voiced 2 characters in the popular video game Kingdom Hearts

Stuffed Ram= he’s an Aries

Chess game= he has a song called check mate

Nobody gets the 🏆 because lemme reiterate this for the people who are as clueless as the judges IT IS NOT ADAM LAMBERT, THAT DOESN’T SOUND LIKE ADAM LAMBERT, ADAM LAMBERT DOESN’T SOUND LIKE A TEEN HEARTTHROB OR A BOY BANDER

Alright, so we are done! Let me know your thoughts! See you guys next week! Top 5 wow, my prediction is that Rhino will leave next. Bye!!

#the masked singer #astronautmask #hunter hayes

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mldrgrl · 5 years

Text

Last First Kiss

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: This is for all the Ed Jerse Anons sitting in my inbox who all want a variation on the theme of Scully not being satisfied that Ed would be the last man she was with.

The appointments were on the calendar for the third Thursday on the month for six months, not a secret, but they were simply marked “Scully - doctor,” like they were run of the mill check-ups and not aggressive chemotherapy. Every third Friday was marked “Scully - out of office.”

Mulder did his best not to be too solicitous, wished her well when she packed up her things before lunch, made lame jokes about how much he’d get done without her ripping apart his theories for a day. He didn’t know how she spent her weekends after those appointments, she could be intensely private about certain aspects of herself, her health being one of them, but it was obvious from the paleness of her cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, and the constant tremor her body seemed to have come Monday, that she suffered.

He wished she wouldn’t push herself so hard, but then again, she was a fighter. He had to admit he was a bit in awe of her determination not to let such a grim diagnosis stop her from doing anything. It had certainly stopped him. Though she didn’t know it, his free time was mostly devoted to finding answers. He didn’t care who he had to go through to find the men who gave her this disease. If they knew how to give it to her, they knew how to take it back.

As the months went by though, the nosebleeds only got worse and at a certain point, she’d even stopped demanding that he not look at her when she did her best to clean herself up or given him dirty, ungrateful glares when he brought out the packet of tissues he’d started carrying around in his breast pocket and slipped them into her hand. She’d stopped locking the connecting doors of their motel rooms or trying to disguise the sound of her retching in the middle of the night by running the sink at full blast. The last two times, she’d even let him kneel beside her and dab her cheeks and the back of her neck with a cool washcloth as she limply clung to the side of the toilet.

If he wasn’t scared before, he was now. He could persevere as long as she was, but the moment she looked up at him with a tired, resigned gaze that told him he was finally allowed to see her like this because it didn’t matter anymore, he knew she had given up. And now, he was desperate for those answers.

Appointment number five loomed like a thundercloud. Mulder was tense all week and Scully was quiet. Time moved like molasses Thursday morning. He tried to focus on the expense report for their last case, but his mind kept wandering to ways he might offer his services to help her through the weekend. Even with the minutes dragging by, suddenly she was shutting her computer down and he hadn’t come up with anything better than, “if you need anything, you know you can call me.”

Scully left with a murmured “see you Monday,” and he chickened out on saying anything more than a soft goodbye. He bit his lip and as soon as he heard the elevator ding and the doors close, he choked on a quiet sob he’d been reigning in. As quickly as he let his emotions overtake him, he pulled himself back together and pounded a fist against the top of his desk. Scully was out there bravely fighting a losing battle alone and he wasn’t helping her by crying at his desk. It was time for his check-in with the Gunmen, who were following up on leads in his stead.

But, the boys had nothing for him. Nothing new, anyway. Mulder cursed. He was pretty sure his best bet was the black-lunged sonofabitch that seemed to pull all the strings from every direction and he’d been trying to lure the old man out of hiding for weeks to no avail. There had to be something he could do.

He stayed at the office well into the evening, poring over his files for some connection he might have missed. There was so much there and yet nothing at all. He was just digging deeper rabbit holes with every file. He finally went home when he felt like his vision was becoming too blurry to ready anything further, but he was back at it again before the sun even came up. Strewn across his desk and the floor was Scully’s abduction file, the files on Max Fenig, Duane Barry, the women in Allentown, the personnel file he’d poached on Alex Krycek, and others bearing the slightest hint of alien activity.

Halfway through the day, it dawned on him that maybe he should change his tactic. He wasn’t a religious man, but Scully was a religious woman, and there were examples of miraculous recoveries all over the world. He gathered up the mess he’d made and made another printing out reams of research on holy sites and unexplained recoveries from illnesses. Amongst them all, he found one that appealed. In fact, it excited him so much that he found himself grabbing he jacket and driving to Scully’s apartment with a hopeful flutter in his chest.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking though, knocking on her door that Friday evening. He hadn’t even gotten a good look at her before he was asking her if she’d ever heard about the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes. She answered his knock in a pair of snow-white flannel pajamas that were rolled up at the sleeves and ankles. Her face was almost as white as her sleepwear, aside from the hollow grey smudges under her eyes. Her eyes themselves were so thoroughly bloodshot it looked like it might be painful just to keep them open.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, taking her in. “I didn’t mean to...to…”

She blinked slowly at him, like a sleepwalker still in a dream. “Our Lady of Lourdes,” she repeated in a quiet slur. “In France.”

“Yeah. Yes, France.”

“What about it?”

“Um…”

“Sorry, I need to sit down.”

“Don’t apologize,” he answered, following her to the couch.

He glanced around. There was a blanket waterfalling off the couch, crumbled tissues scattered across the coffee table, and a basin strategically placed on the floor beside the couch, just below the spot where the impression of her head still lingered on a pillow. Scully pushed the blanket out of the way and folded herself up like a sheet of origami into the empty corner of the couch.

“I should go,” he said.

“Are you going to tell me the story of Saint Bernadette?” she mumbled.

“You know it?”

“Of course I know it, Mulder.”

“Oh.”

“You can tell it to me anyway. I like your stories.”

“You do?”

“Sit down.”

Tentatively, Mulder took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. He surreptitiously slid the basin away from his feet and picked up a closed photo album that was wedged beneath the back cushion.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Photo album.”

“Well, yeah. Are they of you?”

She nodded.

“May I?”

She nodded again. He opened the book and on the first page was a black and white mugshot of a swaddled newborn with a pinched face. Next to it was the classic, naked baby on a bearskin rug photo that every parent seemed to think was necessary. He had one of his own somewhere. He chuckled to himself.

The next pages were a hodgepodge of Scully family photos. There was a pensive looking toddler Scully on the lap of her smiling sister, both with loose red curls and matching baby blue dresses. There was all four Scully children, the boys in sailor suits, the girls in navy blue pinafore dresses standing in front of a docked ship. There was Scully blowing out eight candles on a birthday cake. There was a professional photo of Scully from the waist up in a white lace dress and a white veil, looking upwards with gloved hands clasped in prayer.

He turned to a page of school photos, all eerily similar, the progression of time marked only by the changes in Scully’s face and the length of hair, but the constant being the dark blazer and plaid skirt of a Catholic schoolgirl. She only smiled in one, which he guessed to be about third grade, the rest a study in concentrated seriousness.

And then there was a photo that made him stop and bring the album closer to his face. “Scully,” he said, squinting. “Was your mom a triplet?”

“No,” she said, with a quiet laugh. “She was the middle of three girls. All a year apart.”

“I mean, they look...identical.” And they really did. He saw three Margaret’s in a line with their arms around each other, same dark curls, same shape of the jaw and brow, same red lipstick, even.

“The one on the right is Aunt Kate, the one on the left is Mary Pat.”

“Kate. Katherine? Is that where your middle name cames from?”

“Nope. Mary Kate, Mary Margaret, Mary Pat. Only Aunt Mary Pat uses the Mary.”

“Wait, so your mom and her sisters are all named Mary?”

“Technically, sort of.”

“What was your grandmother’s name? Mary Magdalene?”

“Angela.”

“Oh.”

“Mary Angela.”

Mulder chuckled.

There were a few more pages of family photos and then they changed into pictures of places and people who he assumed were friends from high school or college. There was a photo of Scully with long wavy hair holding a sleeping baby as a priest touched its little bald head.

“Your godson?” he asked.

“Mmhm.”

He flipped a few more pages. There was photos of a cabin in the snow, of Scully in cold weather gear holding a string of fish, of a silver Volkswagen Rabbit, and a slew of photos of a beach and a lighthouse.

“Where’s this?” he asked.

“Point Loma. It was one of my favorite places as a kid.”

“And who is this?” He turned the photo on the next page towards Scully, of her pressed cheek to cheek with a fair-haired man with freckles across his nose and forehead.

“His name is Ethan.” She sat up a little reached out to touch the photo with her fingertips for a few moments and then she curled back into the corner and made a small noise in the back of her throat.

“What?”

“Ethan was the last relationship I was in.”

“Oh.”

“It didn’t last long. Three months, I think. I don’t know, it just occurred to me that...I guess I always thought I’d have more time to…”

“To what?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Nothing. Ethan will have been the last man to love me, even for a short time.”

A protest formed on Mulder’s tongue, but he held it back and looked at the picture of Scully and her ex-boyfriend again. Maybe if things had worked out with this Ethan character, they never would’ve even met. Or with that other guy, that Jack Willis guy from that case a few years ago. Maybe if it had worked out between them, she wouldn’t be here now, though he can’t imagine Scully and Jack as having ever been very good together. He really didn’t want to think about it, either.

“And Ed Jerse,” she said.

Mulder snapped to attention at the mention of that name and looked over at her. “What about Ed Jerse?”

“Ed will be my last first kiss.” She snorted softly and closed her eyes, brows knitting together slightly. He took a glance at her mouth, at the dry, cracked lips that bastard had been lucky enough to touch. It made him sad and angry.

“You do have time, Scully,” he said, emphatically.

“No, I don’t, Mulder.”

“Yes, you-”

“I don’t.” She opened her eyes and leveled her gaze at him. “Mulder, I’m dying. You know it as well as I do, you just don’t want to face the truth.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not getting better, I’m getting worse. The tumor hasn’t changed and the chemo has just made me sick. There isn’t anything left to do. I know this is hard for you, but it’s just a matter of time. And I won’t be making a pilgrimage to France to pray to the Virgin Mary and drink from healing waters, if that was your bright idea.”

“Why not? Why not try everything we can?”

“I would rather spend the time that I have left doing the things I love. I love my job and that’s what I want to do for as long as I’m able.”

“I can’t accept that this is the end, Scully.”

“You’re going to have to.” Her eyes welled with tears, but didn’t spill over.

Mulder looked away and closed the photo album. Scully slumped against the couch and shivered. She hugged her arms across her chest and curled up even tighter. If she got any smaller, she’d disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder whispered, slipping off the couch to his knees. He shuffled over to Scully’s side of the couch and put a hand on her arm, leaning close. “It’s not over until it’s over. Ethan isn’t the last man to love you, I am. Maybe you don’t think it’s the same, but I do.”

“Mulder…” She unraveled enough to put a hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I...I know.”

He leaned into the palm of her hand for a moment and then reached up to cup her face with both hands. “You’re not dying,” he whispered, just before bringing his lips to hers. “There’s time,” he said, pulling back before moving in again. “Don’t give up.”

The three kisses he pressed to her mouth were soft and chaste, but they’re the most heartfelt and tender kisses he’s ever shared with anyone. He felt her tears running down between the webbing of his fingers and he brushed them away with his thumbs. She held his wrists as he placed whispersoft kisses against her closed eyes and wet cheeks.

“I’m going to do everything I can for you,” he said. “Everything.”

“I know.”

“Fight.”

She nodded. He stroked the back of her head once and kissed her temple before rising. As much as he wanted to stay, he had work to do and he needed to get to it as quickly as possible. Maybe he could get her to hold on a little longer, but in his heart he knew he was running out of time.

The End

#xf fanfic #i wrote this #msr #ANGST #cancer arc #ed jerse #maybe a little AU #maybe not #definitely after Elegy #ignoring Demons

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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

Text

Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 9 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————

"You're doing it again," Danvers says gleefully.

Len puts his phone down. "No idea what you're talking about," he lies.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Nope."

"You're smiling. You never smile."

"I smile."

"You really don't, boss," Danvers chides. "You should. It's a good look on you."

Len arches his eyebrows at her.

"It is!" she insists. "I mean, sure, okay, you've managed to convince at least six people here that you're about to purge the department, but that's just because you look kinda smug and demonic when you smile -"

Len grins, with teeth.

"Stop that, it's not a good thing."

Len's not so sure about that.

His phone buzzes.

Len can feel his vicious grin melting into a softer, fonder smile.

"Go on," Danvers says, her own smile turning positively wicked. Len's proud: that's entirely his influence. "Don't leave your boyfriend hanging."

"We went on one date, Danvers."

"Oh, it was a date, now; I thought it was just an information-gathering dinner..."

"It can be both," Len says with great dignity. "Please ignore all previous statements to the contrary."

"Boss..."

"I know, I know," Len says, holding his hands up in concession. "Don't worry, I'm not crossing any lines with it. It'll stay platonic - at least until I clear him, anyway. Then we can be boyfriends."

“Woo hoo!” Danvers cheers. “One very cute guy, in the bag –”

“And how would you know that?”

“I went to sneak a peek at him, obviously,” Danvers says, absolutely shameless. “Have to know what’s good enough to catch my boss’ eyes, don’t I?”

"Oh, shut up," Len tells her, but his attention is back on his phone, reading Allen's latest ridiculous story about his (highly implausible) workday. The most recent twist involves several long paragraphs regarding his newly discovered dreams of retiring to a goat farm.

Allen texts remarkably fast.

Must be a millennial thing.

It's nice, though; Len's used to being the talker, the chatty one, but Allen (should he call him Barry?) has a motor mouth that puts Len's to shame.

(Mick would find it hilarious and say it’s exactly what Len deserves.)

At least Len's still winning their pun-off hands down.

Not literally hands down, of course, since it's happening largely through text.

Heh, he'll have to mention that one to Allen...

"When are you going to see him again?" Danvers asks, interrupting Len's pun-related reverie. "For a date, I mean; not for an investigation."

"I'm still investigating him," Len reminds her. And himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, you’re still investigating, of course you are," Danvers replies, flapping her hands at him. "You're way too paranoid - what you told me about Allen investigating the Flash makes perfect sense to me. Especially since we've managed to correlate a lot of Allen's mysterious disappearances and out-of-field conversations with all the stuff the Flash is up to. We just need to prove it and bam! Dating free and clear."

"Bam? Really?"

"I watch a lot of Food Network," Danvers says. "Shut up. Seriously, though, you're not going to wait until the investigation is done to go out with him again, are you? Tell me you're not!"

"I'm seeing him again tonight," Len admits.

Danvers literally punches the air.

"You're overly invested in this," Len tells her. "Seriously over-invested."

She rolls her eyes at him. "You tell me all about it! All the time!"

"You're my secretary! I need you to make sure that I don't double book over any MR days or anything."

"A, it’s admin assistant, not secretary. B, you went to see Mick yesterday," Danvers says. "Because Allen was working late to make up for taking the day off after being at court in the morning the day before. You know perfectly well that you're not missing anything; you just want to gloat."

Well.

She's not entirely wrong.

Though Len still feels obscurely guilty about how much time he's spending on Allen instead of his usual work, even though the DAs have suggested that they’re appreciating the break.

Or maybe the guilt comes from the fact that he still hasn't figured out exactly how, or why, Allen faked the coma business, and how that ties in with whatever STAR Labs is up to with the Flash - a question that will only be answered either by Allen himself, or with the arrest of the Flash.

Both, ideally.

(No, Len does not have daydreams of presenting the Flash handcuffed to Allen on a silver platter. Really. At all. That would be unprofessional and unproductive, and anyway he probably won't be the one making the arrest if everything goes well; that honor would be going to Detective Thawne, him being an actual detective and all.)

He really hopes Allen is clean – well, clean of everything but a bit of insurance fraud, but insurance fraud in the pursuit of his mother’s murderer; surely that’s somewhat more understandable, right?

Mick would understand that.

Len thinks Mick would like Allen.

He confessed the whole thing to Mick during his visit the day before: how wonderfully their dinner (date) had gone, how they'd connected and talked and kept talking, how Len's infatuation was moving from a mostly physical attraction and a slight appreciation for Allen's niceness towards something far more dangerous...how he was worried that he would let his feelings interfere with his investigation.

How he knows they already have.

They have been from the start, when he began investigating Allen as much because of Mick as anything else, and they are now, with his fondness for Allen leading him to want to find a result that will exonerate him.

Yes, the Flash theory makes sense, but it isn’t the only possibility. After all, Allen could still be an accomplice.

He could still be corrupt.

God, Len wishes he knew what STAR Labs was up to.

He just can’t figure out what the Flash's deal is.

The guy claimed that he isn't seeking glory, and despite himself Len thinks he believes him, so it’s not about that. Nor does the Flash seem motivated by revenge, the way the Hood/Arrow's vendetta against crime had obviously been at the start. And it certainly isn't some idiot joyriding around on some new technology, either.

Len would be willing to give the Flash the benefit of the doubt and say that the whole thing really is stemming from an overdeveloped sense of public duty, but every time he considers it, he thinks about Allen, and more than Allen, he thinks about all those damn disappearances.

Far too many people seem to disappear without a trace after an encounter with the Flash, or at the very least streaks of lightning that suggest his presence.

The latest disappearance: LaShawna Baez, an ex-medical student that'd gotten tangled up with a bad boyfriend with Family ties.

Of course, they all suspected the boyfriend was responsible when he'd gotten caught, but when questioned, he swore that he'd left her behind to be captured by the cops or the Flash when their little Bonny-and-Clyde streak of robberies went off the rails.

Heh.

Streak of robberies...

Either way, another disappearance like that, right around yet another Flash sighting? Not good. After all, at most, Baez would have been guilty of grand robbery without any aggravating factors, like use of arms or felony manslaughter, and that sort of crime doesn't come with a death sentence. If the Flash killed her, then there can be no doubt that he is perverting the legal system in the worst of ways.

And if he isn't killing them, then where are they?

A mystery.

Unlike many people, Len didn't become a cop because he likes solving mysteries. He became a cop because he wants to see justice done. Mysteries are nothing but an impediment to that goal.

Len's phone buzzes again.

Not Allen, though; it's a text from...Danvers?

It reads: "Where are you taking him?"

"Very funny," Len tells her, looking up and rolling his eyes at her.

"Hey, since it seems like you're only accepting messages by phone today, I figured I'd follow protocol," Danvers says, laughing and putting down her own phone. "But seriously, where are you going? Not somewhere outside, I hope; the forecast is for intermittent bursts of rain."

"No, not outside. He's picked a restaurant downtown," Len says. "Hole-in-the-wall in an iffy area, but supposedly the best pasta you can find in the city."

"Better than Antonio's?"

"Doubtful -" No one's pasta is better than what the seemingly immortal Antonio served up in his eponymous restaurant, and Len's not just saying that because he more or less survived his pre-teen years on Antonio's willingness to trade extra bowls of pasta for help washing up the tables that Len suspects he didn't really need. "- but it's always worth a try."

"Have fun," Danvers says. "Though - if it's an iffy part of the city -"

"I'm not wearing the mask on a date, Danvers," Len says sternly. "No. Just - no."

"Fine," she says, pouting. "But you take two phones and an emergency alert, got it?"

"Danvers -"

"No, boss. This is non-negotiable. You're still basically number one on the Family hit list. Just because they've left off a bit now that you're doing internal affairs in the middle of a police station most of the time doesn't mean that they'll hesitate to shoot you if they see you on their turf."

"I'll be careful," Len promises.

Danvers doesn't look entirely appeased, but it's the best she's going to get, so she takes it.

Len kills the next few hours with a combination of texting with Allen and finishing up the paperwork to get warrants on the next batch of cops under suspicion.

He's a little worried that all that texting means that they won't have anything to talk about during dinner, but that fear turns out to be totally misplaced: the conversation flows as easily as the endless refills of soda that Allen keeps draining in his infectious excitement.

(The pasta's no Antonio's, but the breadsticks are definitely out of this world. He'll have to tell Danvers.)

Len's not even sure what they talked about: everything and anything, from the deplorable state of politics in Central to the perils of paperwork, the need to improve infrastructure in the slums without it resulting in gentrification and the eviction of the current residents, to the trials and tribulations inherent in finding just the right present for their respective siblings/best friends.

They're both laughing over some dumb joke Len made - some unnecessarily complicated and definitely not-actually-that-funny thing about the Central City Combines and the Transformers cartoon/toy series - when they leave to go home, with Allen laughing so hard that he needs to lean a hand against Len's shoulder to steady himself and Len wiping tears of amusement out of his eyes.

That's probably why he doesn't see the guy sliding out of the darkness to cut off the exit to the alleyway that's the only way in or out of the restaurant.

He definitely hears it when the guy snarls, "Put your hands up and no one'll get hurt," though.

They both stop laughing at once and turn to look at the mugger.

He's of average height and build, dressed in baggy clothing of assorted colors that have faded through over-use. He seems moderately well-put together, though, despite the stringy brown hair that seems to be trying to form white-man's-dreadlocks - which is to say, knots.

He's holding a switchblade on them.

It's not even a gun.

"Seriously?" Allen says. "Seriously? You just – to – right in the middle of – jeez, some people just have no luck."

Len couldn't agree more. What sort of unfortunate luck must a mugger have to pick not one but two CCPD employees, a cop and a CSI, to try to rob?

Of course, Allen doesn't know what Len does, and Len doesn't want it to come out this way - then he'd have to confess to the yet-unfinished investigation, because there's no way that he works at the same precinct and doesn't know about Allen.

If anything, that restriction cripples him more than his current need to use a crutch.

"I mean it!" the mugger insists. "Now!"

"If you need money, there's a cardboard brigade outpost not far from here," Len tells him. "I can point it out to you if you're not familiar. But robbery's only going to get you thrown in jail."

"Seriously," Allen says again, this time in emphatic agreement. He's shifting from foot to foot, looking as though he's torn between options of what to do - Len can't blame him; a middle-class kid like Allen's probably only been mugged once or twice in his life. He's probably debating whether fight, flight, or concession makes the most sense.

Not unlike Len, who, despite many years of experience on the wrong side of muggings, needs to decide if it's worth discarding his disguise and revealing his secret to get them both out of this.

The mugger's eyes fix on Len and abruptly narrow. "Hey," he says. "Don't I..."

And then he grins.

Len doesn't like that grin, nasty and cruel and planning nothing good for anyone.

"Oh hell no," Allen yelps as the mugger, without any other warning, suddenly lunges forward, knife extended, straight at the two of them.

A second later, the knife clatters to the ground - Allen must have swatted it out of the mugger's hand at remarkable speed - followed very quickly by the mugger himself, because Len balanced on his good foot and used the crutch in his other hand to bash the mugger right over the head, knocking him out.

They both look at each other.

And burst out laughing.

"My hero," Allen chokes out.

"You're the one who went for the knife," Len reminds him, sniggering. "Right back at you."

"Oh, sure, I went for the knife, yeah, but you broke out the crutch-foo -"

"Hey, a man's gotta know to defend himself! It's a hard world out there!"

"What the hell's going on here?" a voice bellows from behind them.

They turn, still laughing; it's the maître d' from the restaurant.

"Sorry," Allen manages to get out between hoots of laughter. "This guy tried to mug us -"

The maître d' glances down at the unconscious mugger. "Oh, great, him again," he says with annoyance. "All right, get out of here, both of you; I'll call it in to the cops."

He probably won't, if he knows the mugger personally, or at least he'll give the mugger a chance to wake up and flee the scene first, but whatever; Len's on a date he doesn't want to disrupt, and he never much liked arresting poor people even when they clearly deserved it.

He glances at Allen, who nods and thanks the maître d', and with that they both leave the alleyway behind.

"Well, that was a terrible ending to a pretty good dinner,” Allen remarks.

"It wasn't that bad," Len says. A bit of unexpected excitement goes a long way to making even the dullest dinner interesting, in his view, and this was far from the dullest of dinners.

"I don't know," Allen says ruefully. "I take you to a restaurant I like in a sketchy part of town and then, for the first time ever in my experience coming to this place, someone tries to mug and then kill us? I don't see how it could possibly be worse."

The second he says that, there's a roll of thunder.

No. It can't be. The world does not love anyone enough to give them such perfect timing.

It is.

The skies open up above them, rain sheeting down in one of Central City's infamously abrupt downpours.

Len's heart is going to explode out of sheer what-wonderful-timing glee.

"You had to say it," he tells Allen, beaming.

"I had to say it," Allen agrees, starting to laugh again.

Allen - Barry - looks so happy, standing there with the rain sheeting down on him, soaking his clothing and plastering his hair to his skull in what really ought to be an unattractive wet-dog look but really isn't, that Len finds himself taking that extra step forward and pressing their lips together.

A second later, he abruptly remembers himself - and his investigation! - and pulls away. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should have asked - we said this was just about getting to know each other -"

Allen reaches out and pulls Len back into the kiss by his jacket lapels.

Oh, Len really shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't.

But he's happy, damnit, and it's been so long since he's been happy, really truly unabashedly happy - not just with a possible romantic partner, that's been forever and a half, but with anyone at all, months and months -

God, Len is so screwed.

He leans into the kiss, reaching up to grab Allen by the shoulders to pull him in -

His side gives a sharp, sudden stab of agony as his crutch falls to the ground.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry!" Allen exclaims, breaking away, taking care to steady Len on his feet before squatting down to pick up the crutch again. "Man, I should've been thinking -"

"If you were thinking, we were both doing something wrong," Len says dryly, trying to recover himself while also clutching at his side a bit. He's familiar with pain, has a great pain tolerance, but even he gets tripped up by it sometimes.

Allen smiles at him as he hands over the crutch. "Yeah," he says. "I - don't think we were. I mean. If you don't."

Len's still hurting - joy and love making pain go away is the stuff of fairytales and romance novels - but he does end up smiling helplessly back. "No," he says. "Though maybe -"

"We go slow?" Allen suggests.

Len nods.

"That works for me," Allen says. "Like, really. I've got some stuff I need to work through - stuff I want to work through. I - I like you. A lot. And I'd like this to work out. But for that to happen, I need to get over some stuff. So, uh, yeah. If slow works for you, slow works for me."

"Slow works," Len agrees, smiling. "I've got some stuff on my plate, too -" That stupid investigation, for one. God, he wishes he could just get over himself and decide that Allen is innocent, but that's just not his way. Not until he's proved what happened. "- so, yeah. Slow works great."

Allen laughs. "This is kind of ironic in ways you don't even know about yet, but you will," he says, a promise dancing in his eyes. "And, uh, yeah. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Want me to catch you a cab?"

Len manages, through valiant effort, to keep them to a single kiss good-night before he gets into the cab and goes home in an utterly fantastic mood.

He'd say that it's the sort of mood that can't be brought down, but that would be a lie, because limping into his supposedly secure apartment and finding Charlie standing there browsing the cookbook section of his bookcase does the trick pretty well.

"What the hell do you want," Len says flatly.

"That's not nice," Charlie says peaceably, continuing to browse. "You should be nicer."

Len rolls his eyes. Charlie is an old - is friend the right word when you can't stand someone but put up with them anyway out of long-standing habit? Probably not.

An old contact? That works.

Len has known Charlie since they were both in juvie together. He was mildly unsettling back then; he's positively creepy now.

It's the way you're distinctly aware of those priors for cannibalism (technically, disgracing a corpse) and possible kidnapping the entire time you're around him, even if you don't actually know about them.

Still, while, despite that fact, Len generally considers Charlie to be harmless - he's usually willing to accept a firm 'no', bizarrely enough - that doesn't mean he wants Charlie appearing in his apartment.

Len sleeps here.

"Who let you in?" Len asks.

"Your house-cleaner," Charlie says promptly. "She remembered me from last time."

Len's going to have to have a word with her.

"And why are you here?" Len prompts, since Charlie seems to be getting distracted with a book on large-scale barbecuing that Len'd gotten for Mick as a present one year.

"I was wondering if anyone had tried to kill you yet," Charlie replies.

Len stares at him.

Charlie blinks back. "Hasn't anyone told you about the new bounty on your head?"

"No, Charlie," Len says, keep his voice mild and controlled. "You're one of my contacts, remember? You're supposed to tell me about these things - I don't know them if you don't tell me them."

"Oh. Right. Well, they only put it up a day or two ago. Hasn't anyone tried to kill you yet?"

"No, I don't keep a regular schedule, which makes it harder to -" Len pauses.

That's his usual answer, but it's not true, is it? Someone did try to kill him.

Sure, a random probably-high mugger acting on impulse, not a Family assassin, but now that Len considers it, the guy had stared at Len, recognizing him, before escalating from a mugging to attempted murder.

If there's a bounty on his head, with a picture attached, that would explain the recognition.

"A Family bounty?" Len asks.

"Of course," Charlie says. "They really do hate you, you know."

"I do know," Len says. That doesn't mean he's not puzzled, though. "Still, recognizing my face...I thought they'd put the bounty on the backburner for a while? On account of them not wanting to start an outright war with law enforcement?"

Charlie shrugs. "It's back on. Or, well, it was never off, but notice of it was redistributed. I heard a rumor that you crossed one of their assassins and they made a request."

Assassins? Len hasn't been allowed anywhere near anything Family related, much less one of their trained killers.

Maybe one of the corrupt cops he'd taken down?

But the only one in the last week or two was Cichowski. That seems highly unlikely.

Besides -

"Why wouldn't an assassin just take me down themselves?" Len asks, a little skeptical. "Seems the most straightforward approach."

Charlie shrugs again. "Laziness, vanity, doesn't want his name associated with it - who knows? Could be plenty of reasons."

Point well taken.

“How good a rumor is it, that it's one of the Family assassins' behind it?” Len asks. "Rather than one or another of the Family's brass getting a bee in their bonnet for some reason or another?"

“Just a rumor.”

That’s not worth much.

“Let me know if there’s anything more in that?” Len asks.

“Of course,” Charlie says. “I’ll ask around. But you should be careful.”

Len's lips twitch. "No one gets to kill and eat me but you?"

"If I kill you, I'm going to eat you, yes," Charlie says, as mildly and peaceably as ever. "Same thing if I find your body in a well-preserved state. But you're my friend: there's no reason for me to want you to go before your time."

That's almost heartwarming, if you ignore the kill-and-eat part. And possibly the "before your time" part; Len's going to have to check that Charlie hasn't hatched another plan to kidnap, murder, and devour him again, especially now that he doesn’t have Mick to keep an eye out about it for him.

It's a good thing Charlie's plans are invariably crap.

"Well?" Charlie says expectantly.

"I'll be careful," Len promises. "Now get the hell out of my apartment."

Charlie does, taking with him one of the cookbooks - not the barbeque one, which he knows is off limits, but one of the how-to-make-macrons ones, which, uh, what?

"That's not nearly as funny as you think it is, boss," Danvers informs him the next morning, when he tells her the story. "Can we get back to the part where your life is in danger?"

"It's just a bounty," Len objects. "There's technically been one on my head this entire time."

"Yes, but you haven't had random muggers escalating to attempted murder the second they recognize your face!"

Oh, boy. Danvers is breaking out the increased emphasis.

"It wasn't a serious attempt -"

"Boss!"

"I'll keep wearing the mask when I go out on Flash business, okay?" Len says. "I promise."

Danvers crosses her arms and glares.

Len swears he can feel the hair on his arms start scorching.

Time to use his trump card.

"I also promise that I'll stick to Jitters and other well-lit areas for any more dates with Allen," he offers.

Danvers keeps glaring for an extra second to make sure he knows that she's only going to fall for his bait because she wants to, not because he tricked her, and then she grins. "You're going to have more dates?"

"We are," Len confirms, unable to keep himself from smiling back. "Going slow, though - he's getting over somebody, and I need to finish the Flash investigation first."

"If you get the Flash, then Allen can stop doing all the suspicious things he's doing," Danvers agrees. "And you can scratch the whole thing off as well-meant but misguided over-enthusiasm."

"Well, not the whole thing," Len demurs. "I'm still going to make him deal with the insurance fraud aspect of it all. But yes, if he's not corrupt, that makes things much easier. But remember -"

"Yes, yes, I know, people on your list are guilty until proven innocent."

"No," Len says, rolling his eyes. "Just Occam's razor: corruption is unfortunately still the more reasonable explanation. Do you really want me getting in deep with someone with an asterisk by his name?"

Danvers softens. "Yeah, okay," she says. "You sure it isn't too late for that?"

"I'm infatuated, not in love," Len says. "If we find out that he's no good, I'll live."

He'll be disappointed, sure, even maybe a little heartbroken, but whatever.

"What's on the agenda today?" he asks, changing the subject. His resolution to practice talking about his feelings with Danvers so that he doesn't choke up when apologizing to Mick after he wakes up (if he wakes up) aside, he still doesn't enjoy it. Give him work to do instead any day.

That pesky work ethic is probably why he was Central City's most successful freelance thief for over a dozen years running, possibly more, depending on how you count these things.

"Let me check," Danvers says, sliding back over to her computer. "Looks like a pretty light day - you've got some meetings in the afternoon with the DAs to walk them through some of your evidence again so that they don't get cold feet about bagging a cop, again -"

"In an election year, with only a short while to go before the primary? They ought to be happy that I'm giving them so much law-and-order cleaning-up-the-system cred."

"I'm not the one you need to convince of that," Danvers says dryly. "Anyway, that left this morning pretty open, so I took the liberty of arranging an informal powwow on behalf of the Anti-Flash Task Group -"

"It's not actually called that, you know."

Danvers rolls her eyes at him.

"That sounds great," Len adds. Some solid investigative work sounds right up his alley right now. "They're coming here?"

"Detective Thawne and Miss West, yes," Danvers confirms. "I figured you didn't want every street cop who's potentially on the task force personnel list."

"Definitely not." Len pushes himself back from his chair and up to a standing (well, leaning) position. "I'm going to practice some PT in my office; let me know when they get here."

The joys of healing.

Thawne and Iris - she'd insisted, by virtue of refusing to answer to anything else, and anyway he needs to distinguish her from the other, less amiable West that stalks the precinct with a grim scowl like he thinks that alone would drive Len away - arrive an hour later, when Len's finished and already put his leg up to rest while he grimly drains a green smoothie designed to feed him nutrients he needs.

He hates green smoothies.

All those vegetables –

(They don’t taste like the ones Mick made him eat at all. He wonders if Allen likes veggies...)

"Hey, sorry, are we late?" Iris asks, looking around the mostly deserted conference room that doubles as Len's part of the precinct. "Or, uh, early?"

"Right on time," Danvers chirps. "Please, have a seat anywhere you like; as you can see, we've got the space but not the personnel. Captain Snart will be out of his office momentarily."

Len's mostly glad about the excuse to toss the smoothie.

Danvers glares at him when he comes out to the main room - she always knows when he's thrown away his smoothie, it's uncanny; he swears she can see through walls - but he ignores her and hobbles over to greet his guests.

Teammates?

Whatever.

"I look forward to working with you, Detective Thawne," Len says, sticking his hand out. "I've heard good things."

Thawne looks surprised.

"Eddie!" Iris hisses, elbowing him in the side.

He abruptly remembers himself and belated reaches out to shake Len's hand.

"Don't worry, I get it," Len says dryly. "The fire-breathing gorgon with snake for hair's a lot less intimidating in person, yeah?"

Thawne flushes a bit, but smiles ruefully. "I think ice breath is the more common story."

"Ice? How would that even work - am I breathing it out in solid form?" Len asks, amused. "Or is it more like sneezing snowflakes?"

"Probably more like an artic wind gust, using the Joule-Thompson effect," Danvers volunteers. "Compressed air through a small opening drops the temperature significantly; that, in combination with saliva acting as a freezing agent, would lower the temperature of the exhale to such a negative degree that anything that's hit by it gets iced over."

They look at her.

She blushes. "I mean," she says. "If he had freeze breath."

"No, I like that," Len says. "That would actually be really cool."

Danvers, far too used to him, groans.

"Was that a pun?" Iris says, starting to grin. "Captain Cold makes cold puns?"

"Captain Cold makes all puns," Danvers says.

"This is a non-discriminatory office," Len agrees.

Thawne snorts, and Len can see him finally starting to relax. "Glad to hear that," Thawne says. "Sorry about my reaction. I'm actually really looking forward to working on this task force; it's my first time leading an investigation without a senior partner."

"Isn't Captain Snart your senior partner?" Iris asks.

"No, I'm his boss," Len says. "That's different. Still, glad you’re thinking that way, Thawne; I'm hoping that you'll be able to take a lot of solo lead on this investigation." He nods at his crutch. "I'm ain't exactly my old mobile self these days."

"Not to mention on a Family hit list," Danvers pointedly mutters to no one in particular.

"A Family hit list?" Iris asks, sounding interested. "Really?"

"I used to do undercover work," Len tells her, a little charmed by how impressed she looks by it. Undercover work didn't allow for much bragging, for obvious reasons. Besides, even if he’d had someone to brag about it to, he'd been too angry to really get any joy out of it before now. "The Families don't appreciate that much."

"That's pretty awesome," Iris says. "What did you do when you were undercover, if I'm allowed to ask?"

"Oh, don't ask him that," Danvers says before Len can reply. "He'll be showing off his pickpocketing skills for days; it's unbearable."

She's grinning, though, and Iris grins back. "I don't know," she says. "That sounds like it could be interesting."

"Could be," Len says, and hands her back her wristwatch to an exclamation of delight. "But we should probably focus on the Flash."

Iris straps her watch back on, grinning even more now. "Yeah, probably. We're still agreed on not treating him like a criminal, right?"

"No, we're agreed that we're withholding judgment pending further investigation," Len corrects. "But yes, innocent until proven guilty's still a thing, if that's what you're asking. I won't hold anything wrong he's done against him until I prove he's done it."

"What's he done to make you think he's done something wrong at all?" Iris challenges.

"Other than being an unauthorized vigilante and however many counts of assault on purported 'criminals' - yes, purported, they're innocent till proven guilty, too - you mean? The disappearances."

Iris blinks. "Disappearances? What disappearances?"

"Serial disappearances," Danvers clarifies. "I've been logging strange events in Central City, and a number of them can be correlated with your map of Flash activity."

"That doesn't mean the Flash is behind them," Iris objects.

"He could be trying to solve them," Thawne suggests, though he looks more dubious than Iris.

"Not exactly his job," Len reminds them. "But that's what we're here to figure out. If the Flash really is a do-gooder, and not involved in these disappearances, then we can see about getting him some legal backing - a badge, and the ethics course that accompanies wearing that badge."

"Ethics?" Iris asks dryly, arching her eyebrows in mock surprise. "In Central?"

"Yes," Thawne says, and unlike Iris he's utterly serious. "Just because lots of people don't have any doesn't mean we shouldn't be aiming to do better."

"You sound like a politico before their first reelection campaign," Len says. "But as it happens, I agree. I love this city, dirt and all, but just because it's always been dirty before ain't no reason to tolerate it. Corruption's the root of all the problems we've got, and it starts with people thinking ethics are optional because this is Central. It might be Central, but you gotta put your money where your mouth is when it comes to ethics or else what’s the point?"

Iris nods, while Thawne looks thoughtful. "You really mean what you say, don’t you?" he says. "It’s not a grudge or anything – you're really trying to clean up the city."

"One traitorous cop at a time," Len agrees, even though it’s not entirely correct: he’s one hundred percent fulfilling a grudge, but there’s no reason he can’t clean up the city at the same time. "Well, assuming the Families - or the cops - don't shoot me first."

“Oh, no,” Iris says. “You’re not allowed to get shot before I get to the bottom of these disappearances and prove you wrong about the Flash.”

Len smirks.

Sounds good to him.

#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #kara danvers #iris west #eddie thawne #my fic #an internal affair

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jayfromriverside-blog · 5 years

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Comics I read this week (8/26 - 8/30)

Hey anyone and... anyone I guess. For all those looking to get into comics or who are already comics readers but don’t know which books are good, here’s an opinion on just that!

Give it a read, let me know what you think, light some pitchforks, whatever you like:

Justice League #30

I was conflicted reading this week’s issue of Justice League: while I’m really liking the direction that Scott Snyder is taking the story, I’m really getting sick of Jorge Jimenez’s art on the series.

While Jimenez was a breath of fresh air on the “Superman: Rebirth” series with his CG texturized drawing and smooth surfaces, his ultra-stylized and cartoony figures are starting to look more plastic and stretchy as this series goes on. He’s got a bad habit of smoothing over his character’s proportions, which make these heroes that are supposed to be cut and strong look flat and almost doughy. It’s starting to grind on me more as each new issue comes out, and maybe it’s time for an artistic switch-up on this title.

In terms of the story though, this was a good set-up issue for the Justice/Doom war that Snyder and co. have been building up to on this run. We’ve got all the pieces in place: a gathering of forces by both sides; a romp through time which sees the League meeting with both Kamandi and the classic JSA; and everything going awry right from the get-go!

The only thing I’m slightly concerned about storywise is that Catwoman was in the Doom lineup, and with the rekindling of Bat-Cat in the latest Batman issues, I’m hoping this isn’t a portend for another breakup in King’s run. My heart couldn’t take another.

Superman #14

Let me be clear on one thing before I start in: I’m a fan of Brian Michael Bendis. His work on “Ultimate Spider-Man,” “Daredevil,” and “Alias” are some of my favorite comics, and his more recent work with “Naomi,” and “Event Leviathan” has been really good. With all that being said... man, this Superman comic has sucked hard since he took over.

Let’s just start at the story:

It’s felt like Bendis has been really looking forward to getting started on his upcoming run with the new “Legion of Superheros,” which is something to potentially get excited about for the near future. What’s not exciting at all is the realization that this whole Rogol Zar arc has been a poorly thought out lead-in to the Legion’s return. SPOILER WARNING FOR ANYONE WHO WANTS TO READ THIS GARBAGE FIRE: the Legion show up at the end of the issue to invite Jon to join, as a commemoration of the day the United Planets was formed. This is fine, and could be an exciting new direction for Jon that harkens back to the classic comics. BUT did we really have to suffer through weeks of nonsensical story just to get this?

Just to recap this arc: Rogol Zar appears out of nowhere, looking like Lobo, Doomsday and a garbage disposal with a bland imagination all had an orgy and he was the deformed kid that came out of it. This beefed-up piece of blandness comes out of the sky to fuck up Superman cause he heard there were some Kryptonians still alive in the Universe and apparently he’s a space-racist.

Superman struggles against this remnant from the 90s while the worlds shittiest not-dead Grandpa, Jor El, is off in space traumatizing Jon and stressing him out so much he ages up to a teenager.

But it’s ok guys! Jor El knows who Rogol Zar is, they have a connection of sorts! And Rogol Zar caused the destruction of Krypton! But now he’s allied with Jax Ur, and also now Zod maybe? And the Thanagarians are involved? So are the Guardians? Wait, now Rogol Zar is also effected by Kryptonite because he’s a Kryptonian? And now he’s just captured like that, but Thanagar’s under attack, oh wait just kidding it’s not?

Those last 2 plot points literally happened in 3 pages this issue, right after each other. So this story is confusing and non-sensical and ultimately doesn’t mean anything, because the whole point turned out to be that Bendis needed something, some plot device to make it so Superman could say “we can’t have secrets like this tearing apart worlds like Krypton, we need a United Planets.”

None of this crap story is helped by Ivan Reis’ art, which I know some people love, but to me it looks like everything bad with the 90s except with better backgrounds and textures. But even if I didn’t hate his art, his page and panel composition is often confusing, especially during fight sequences, which doesn’t help when the story is confusing to begin with.

After reading this week’s issue, I want nothing more than to die in the garbage fire Bendis has lit and take this whole comic with me.

The Terrifics #19

Shouts out to DC for finally figuring out how to write a Fantastic 4 comic, maybe they can show Dan Slott how it’s done. But seriously, “The Terrifics” has been the exact kind of science-adventure story that needs to be around in comics, as the landscape needs it’s fare share of science-criminals and heroes to balance things out.

First thing to note for this week, the art is great. Max Raynor (first time I’ve seen their work) has a great kind of cartoony playfulness to his characters and line-work, while at the same time keeping the models tight and well detailed.

I’m glad that the writers of the story realized that the Terrifics function best when they’re dealing with light-hearted cross-dimensional adventures, and this new one seems like it’ll be great from the start. In keeping with the “Year of the Villain,” Lex Luthor has made an offer to Bizarro (the one for the HTREA, not the one from the Outlaws), giving him a time-machine device to reek some havoc with.

I don’t want to spoil the issue too much, as if you haven’t read the Terrifics you really should give it a go, but let’s just say that it involves Bizarro at one point destroying Algebra, and a Bizarro Terrifics team known as “The Terribles” breaking through to the main DC dimension to challenge their Terrific rivals.

If you’re looking for something fun, cheesy, but heartwarming and action packed, definitely give the Terrifics a try.

The Flash #77

Look, I’m still not digging this whole “Force War,” or “War of the Forces,” or whatever the Flash team is trying to build up with these new force users. It felt like the DC Creative team was trying to retcon Flash to be more mythical with “Flash: Year One,” pitting the Flash against the Turtle and creating this whole mythology around the Forces of the Universe to make it seem like this clash was inevitable.

But what this has done for me is just make the Flash feel smaller and less special. These forces and the grander narrative behind them have just diminished the Speed force, which was still shrouded in some mystery after all these years in the DC Universe, to just one force, just A force.

There are two silver linings from this week’s issue, one more bittersweet than the other. First off, the art has gotten ten times better than it’s been in weeks. Rafa Sandoval’s pencils are crisp and clean, and though his action feels static sometimes, he’s miles better than what we’ve been seeing for a few months now.

Second, though this Force War already feels like a dud, a cool concept was introduced in a throwaway line. Flash fans, feel free to crucify me, but with the Black Flash’s appearance this week, Commander Cold talked about how he was acting like an anti-body for the Speed Force in trying to eliminate these new force users. If that’s true, it makes the Speed Force almost like a living creature that feel’s like it is under attack. But this also makes me think that, wouldn’t it have been cooler if you had the same motivation for the appearance of the Black Flash, but instead of the Force users, it was Speedsters it was targeting?

What if all of the new Speedsters were putting a strain on the Speed Force, hurting it in some way that awoke the Black Flash? It’d still give Barry a reason to reconcile with Wallace and Avery, but would also replace this Force War with a Speed War? Spitballing here, but that sounds cooler to me.

Ice Cream Man #14

And now we break up the superheroes for something a little more horrific. For anyone who doesn’t know what “Ice Cream Man” is, the best way I can categorize it is a horror anthology series.

The story, setting and characters change from week-to-week, except for one presence: the Ice Cream Man. Even when he’s not in whatever nightmare is being doled out that week, his fingers can be felt all over the story, and they dig into the fears you try to hide and pry them open.

The theme of this week’s story was communication, and maaaaaaaaan does this comic have a way of making you feel depressed and scared all at the same time.

The two main characters are a husband and wife, the former who is deeply dissatisfied and finds escape in crosswords, the latter who is so starved for communication and intimacy that she makes problems out of nothing just to have something to talk with her husband about.

I don’t want to spoil too much, as I think everyone should be reading this book, but things take a turn for the hellish when the husband goes out to buy more crosswords and finds himself trapped in one, while his wife finds out that her delusions may have been true, and worse than she thought.

For long-time readers, the biggest thing from to take away from this issue is that perhaps the Ice Cream Man’s influence is spilling out into the world more and more, and things will only get worse from here.

Spider-Man: Life Story #6

For any fans of Spider-Man, go out and buy this book. Doesn’t matter if you’re a new fan or a hardcore fan, this is a story for anyone who has any love for Spider-Man in any shape. This story isn’t perfect all the way through, but man is it an incredible ride.

For anyone who hasn’t heard of this comic, writer Chip Zdarsky took the gargantuan task of creating one long-form story out of the entire continuity of Spider-Man, from the 1962 till 2019, and showing how this life that we’ve seen Spider-Man live would actually play out in real-time.

This comic took some of the best and worst arcs, from “Kraven’s Last Hunt,” the birth of Venom and “The Superior Spider-Man,” to “The Clone Saga” and the Inheritors (god those pseudo vampires were dumb), and not only makes them work within this different world that Zdarsky has made, but makes them work as a part of the larger narrative.

While it’s not perfect all the way through, seeing the characters we know and love, especially Peter and MJ, live their lives with wrinkles and all feels like something special, and I encourage anyone who is curious to go out and cop this 6 issue series and join the ride.

Runaways #24

For all manga fans out there, I’m a huge fan of the “slice-of-life” genre. For any non-manga fans, slice-of-life stories are ones that celebrate the everyday little moments that make up most of our lives. Riding bikes with friends, going to the movies, starting a new hobby, or even just going to the store and deciding what to get for dinner, these are all the kind of topics that a slice-of-life narrative covers. With her run on “Runaways,” Rainbow Rowell has essentially made a superhero slice-of-life comic, and I’m really liking every moment of it.

This week’s issue focuses almost entirely on Karolina and Nico spending a night out “superheroing.” Except it becomes apparent pretty early on that neither really knows what they’re doing, and whatever little problems they run into (fender bender on the 405, potentially lost children, etc.) are better left to themselves, as they either wouldn’t be able to help or would actually get in the way. It’s weird to say that watching superheroes be ineffective is really entertaining, but that’s exactly what I’m saying, and I think that is in large part to the good character writing that Rowell has done on her run, and the warm art of this series that helps you feel safe and cozy.

My favorite part of the issue is when Karolina and Nico stop for a bite to eat, and Karolina feels like she has to apologize for wasting Nico’s time. Nico just laughs it off and tells her that she was just looking to spend time with her partner, so in her eyes tonight’s mission was a success. It’s cute, it fits with the characters and how we’ve seen them grow over the run, and I like it a lot.

That’s not to say there isn’t any action in this issue. By the time the story is done there’s a super-powered dance fight and a mysterious new superhero debuting on the scene. I’m excited to see where both of those threads go heading into the next issue.

Justice League Dark #14

Since the Rebirth of this team this has been one of the comics that I look forward to the most each new issue, and this is quickly becoming one of my favorite iterations of the team. While Batman’s gothic-detective aesthetic fit well with the team, he always felt too based in technology and the modern world to really embrace magic. On the other hand, Wonder Woman is a walking myth, a demi-god on earth, someone who is made of magic. Her role as the leader of this team alongside heavy hitters like Zatanna and Swamp Thing, along with smaller characters like Detective Chimp and Man-Bat, has felt natural and authentic.

Another great part of having Diana on the team rather than Batman is that her personality stands out. Whereas Batman and most of the magical characters in DC are generally tragic, Wonder Woman is a symbol of hope and optimism, someone who fights to see the best in people and bring that best version out of them. This works especially well with her band of misfits, who despite having much more experience than Wonder Woman in the world of magic, have far less experience in being part of a team, let alone in being “superheroes” in the traditional sense of the word.

As for this issue, it’s a set-up chapter that ticks all the right boxes. We’ve essentially got the “Dark” Justice League Dark coming together, led by a newly powered up Circe, who are raring up to wage a Witching War against their good counterparts. While their final players are coming into the fold, the villains have already managed to plant a couple of seeds of doubt into the team which will certainly bloom into dissension. Can’t wait to see where this goes next.

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #11

Tom Taylor gets Spider-Man.

It’s a simple statement, but as we’ve seen over all of the years with Spidey, not a whole lot of writers have really understood what makes Spider-Man so spectacular, amazing, superior, etc. It’s a testament to how well Tom Taylor is writing Spider-Man in this series that he’s telling small scale stories without a whole lot of action, death-defying adventure or real conflict, and yet this is some of the best Spider-Man I’ve read in years.

The opening pages set the tone for the story right away, with one of the simpler but most honest statements I’ve seen in a Spider-Man book:

“See, Captain America is Captain America. Thor is Thor. But Spider-Man...

Spider-Man is Peter Parker...

And Peter Parker is my responsibility.”

That’s the thesis statement for this story, detailing a day in the life of Mary-Jane Watson, the often under appreciated girlfriend of our titular web-head.

The story from then on is pretty much in her hands, with occasional monologuing from a sleeping Peter, as Mary-Jane goes about what we can only assume is a pretty typical day in the life of the girlfriend of one of NYC’s premier heroes.

Small scale stories are essential in superhero comics in order to break up long events and arcs. They’re breathing room, time for the readers to catch their breath and assess the new status quo before things get wild again. But they’re also often the stories which show us the foundations of who these heroes really are. It’s been said that power doesn’t corrupt, it reveals, and when characters with as much power as Spider-Man aren’t up against the wall and forced to make a decision, the decisions they do make show us that much more about the person beneath the mask.

Tom Taylor has managed to show us just who Spider-Man and the people in his life really are underneath their masks by lowering the stakes. The stories are small and simple, the consequences often equally so, but what’s been created is true to the characters more than almost any stories I’ve seen before, and it’s lovely. This is one of the best books being written right now, and if you’re not reading it yet, you need to go out and fix that right now.

Detective Comics #1010

It feels like there isn’t much to say about this week’s issue. We’ve still got the stranded billionares on the island, who are now clearly being held hostage by Deadshot. Meanwhile Bruce is rescued and patched up by two WWII fighter pilots who have been stranded on this island since the war, neither knowing which side won.

I’m a big fan of Deadshot when he leans into his nihilistic killer persona, and this “The Most Dangerous Game” setup with a tech-deprived Bruce and Deadshot duking it out on an island seems interesting. Tomasi has been generally pretty good with his run on Detective Comics, so I’m excited to see how long he runs with this arc of Bruce and Deadshot trying to outsmart each other in this deadly game of cat and mouse.

#comics #superhero #dc comics #marvel #batman #spiderman #superman #wonder woman #the flash

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notstars-doors · 6 years

Text

Somebody Told Me

“Dick Grayson has a new boyfriend. Or does he?”

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806868/chapters/36790545

~~~~

Welp, it's a fake dating AU. I caved.

Hoping to make this one a bit of a slow burn too. It's gonna be a bumpy ride ;)

(sidenote: written for @twinkothydrake because we’re both w e a k for best friends to lovers AND fake dating. Thanks to @1captainjordan4 for the plot, wouldn’t have gotten this far without ur great ideas ;) )

Enjoy!

~~~~

Ch. 1

“Did you seriously just order your third milkshake?”

“Yes?”

“Dude.”

“What? I’ll pay for it.”

“That’s not the – y’know what, I’m not gonna bother.”

Wally throws a french fry at Dick in retaliation for the sass, who snatches it out of the air a few inches from his face with a grin.

“I need the calories!”

“In the form of milkshakes?”

“Yes!”

“I feel like there are better ways to get your calorie intake.”

“Easier? Maybe. Better? Not a chance.”

Dick rolls hi s eyes, dunking the caught French fry in some ketchup before popping it in his mouth. “You need professional help.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and for the first time in weeks, the two of them have managed to wrangle their schedules into some semblance of order to spend a day together. It’s weird, not being able to spend time with Wally these days. With Wally in college and Dick himself finishing up high school, they’ve got so much on their plates that they never get to see each other outside of missions. As great as missions are, sometimes you just need to shoot the shit with your best friend.

Especially when your best friend is as hot as Wally West.

Dick shakes that thought out of his mind. That is not a place he wants to go right now, with Wally sitting right there – looking like red headed Adonis with an easy smile and kind green eyes and-

Shit.

“-and you know what, I checked with Uncle Barry, and the sugar goes through me so fast that I don’t have to worry about diabetes or anything like that, so you should really-… Dude, you good?”

Dick blinks. Wally’s giving him a concerned stare, an eyebrow raised in question. Dick shakes his head again, realizing Wally’s been talking this entire time and he’s just been watching him like a lovesick idiot.

He is not a lovesick idiot.

Dick licks his lips, tasting salt and the sweetness of ketchup as he tries not to swallow his own tongue in embarrassment.

“Yeah, just trying not vomit over your eating habits.”

Wally scowls, tossing another fry at him. This one hits Dick square on the nose, and Wally whoops in victory, fists in the air. Dick rolls his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh that’s really one of relief.

“So, catch me up!” Wally leans back on his side of the old diner booth, resting an elbow on the edge of the cushion. “What’s the life of Dick Grayson been like for the last two months?”

“Honestly? Pretty boring.” Dick shrugs. He fiddles with the big paper straw in his own milkshake, swirling around the last dregs of pink foam at the bottom of the glass. “Senior year is kinda kicking my ass, so Bruce has been steadily shoving that stick further up his own because of it. He’s called me off a couple patrol shifts recently because exams are coming up, which is completely unnecessary.”

Wally frowns. “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, just a matter of multitasking.”

“You sure?”

“I can handle it.” Dick slides the glass to the edge of the table to be picked up by a server. “What about you? The end of your sophomore year, how’s that going?”

It’s Wally’s turn to shrug. “Not much to tell, really. Second year isn’t as interesting as first.”

“No house fires?”

“Nope.”

“Keg parties?”

“With my roommates? Nah.”

“Walks of shame?”

Wally’s face drops into a deadpan. “I’m a physics major.”

Dick cocks an eyebrow. “With the body of superhero.”

“That no one ever sees because I’m a physics major.”

Dick snorts, tossing another French fry in his mouth. “You need to get out more, dude.”

Wally scoffs. “Says the biggest fuckin’ hermit I know.”

“Excuse me!” He smacks his palm against his chest in mock offense. “Haven’t you read the Gotham Gazette? Or Seventeen magazine? I spend every night out on the town, going wild with several lovely ladies on my arms, don’t’cha know.”

“You?” Wally bursts into laughter, arms folding on the table and burying his face in the crook of his elbow and his body shakes in hysterics.

“I’m a Teen Heartthrob.”

“Pfft-”

“I’m Gotham’s second-most eligible bachelor.”

“Second to who?”

“Bruce.”

“Ew!”

“Yeah.”

Wally shudders, sitting up straight and nodding a ‘thank you’ to their server as she places his new vanilla milkshake in front of him. “That’s… wrong, on so many levels.”

“Yeah well, I’m eighteen now.” Dick shrugs again, not missing the flirtatious smile the girl sends his way as she picks up his empty glass. “They can say what they want. Not that they were stingy with their words before.”

“Gross…” Wally sticks his tongue out in distaste before taking a sip. “I don’t know how you deal with being a… celebrity. It’s weird.”

“You get used to it.”

“I never could.”

“It’s not like you haven’t shown up in the tabs with me before.”

Wally, to Dick’s surprise, chokes on his milkshake, sputtering white liquid over his side of the table. Dick recoils from the onslaught, sliding their fries out of the way in the same motion.

“What?!”

Dick laughs and rips a few napkins out of the silver container at the side of the table, wiping up it down as the ginger stares him incredulously. “Dude, you’re a mess.”

“Wha- how?” Wally blinks a few times, eyes wide in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got milkshake dribbling down your chin.”

“Dick!”

“It’s gross.”

Wally snatches a napkin out of his hand, wiping it over his face haphazardly. How Dick fell in love with this idiot, he’ll never know.

“Would you please explain to me how this happened.”

“Dude, you’re my best friend. People see us together in public, it happens.”

“Yeah, but tabloids?”

“Do you not use social media ever?”

“Physics major!”

“Not an excuse!”

Wally flops his head down on the table with a ‘smack’, barely missing the puddle of milkshake on his right. Dick rolls his eyes. They’ve had this conversation one too many times before.

“What… what do they say?”

“Well-” Dick runs a hand through his hair, wondering where to start. “Most of the time people think we’re dating.”

“Really?”

“I mean I came out a couple years ago and we usually spend a lot of time together. It’s not an unreasonable conclusion.”

Wally’s quiet for a moment, then lifts his head to give Dick a questioning look. “But they also write about you being with a bunch of girls?”

“I never said they were smart.”

He snickers, resting his chin on the tabletop. “You got me there.”

Dick picks up a few more French fries and stuffs them into his mouth, then slides the basket under Wally’s nose. “Here, finish this. We’ve got the rest of the day, let’s not waste it.”

“But my milkshake!”

“Chug it.”

“But-! Brain-freeze!”

“Don’t be a baby.”

Wally pouts, then proceeds to shove the rest of the fries in his mouth and start slurping down the milkshake. Luckily, he’d already drank (and spat up) half of it, so it only takes him a few seconds to finish.

Dick slides a fifty under the salt shaker, knowing it’ll cover more than both bills combined and probably make their server’s day. Wally cradles his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose as a pained grimace crosses his face.

“Urgh… I can’t believe you made me do that.”

“Oh, because you protested so much.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“You knew that when you got into this friendship, too late to back out now.”

Wally cuffs Dick over the back of the head as they slide out of the diner booth, which Dick responds to by shoving him into the chrome railing of the bar top. Wally bangs his hip on the edge and yelps in pain, catching the attention everyone in the diner.

Including the manager, who glares at them from behind the bar.

Uh oh.

Dick gives her a sheepish grin and a wave, trotting speedily out of the restaurant with Wally hot on his heels.

They barely get outside before Wally’s pushing Dick over in revenge. He laughs, righting himself easily and prodding Wally in the side.

“Hey! No tickle spots!”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Unreliable source.” Dick pokes him again.

“Mmn- haa- nno!” Wally leaps out of Dick’s reach, waving his arms protectively in front of him. “Illegal!”

Dick grins wickedly, wiggling his fingers. “You realize that just makes it much more tempting.”

“Do not touch my-” Wally pauses, twisted at an odd angle to stay out to Dick’s reach, looking curiously at something behind him.

Dick turns to see what he’s looking at, and finds a group of paparazzi snapping photos of them from across the sheet. His grin falls from his lips, replaced with a sneer of displeasure.

“Great…”

When Dick turns back to Wally, he’s standing normally again – if a little stiff. He looks pretty uncomfortable, and Dick immediately feels awful for dragging him into this. It’s not like he has a choice, really, but he hates that Wally is being forced into the situation.

He grabs Wally’s wrist and starts pulling him away from the crowd. “Just don’t pay attention.”

“Those are some big cameras.”

“Stop looking.”

“They actually dress like sleazebags, I thought that was just in the movies.”

“Wally!”

“What? I’ve never seen them up close before.”

“They’re not endangered animals, they’re paps.”

“Paps? Who are you?”

“I’m someone who’s been living with this for nine years.”

“Jesus…”

Wally cranes his neck over his shoulder to glance at the photographers again, who have crossed the street to follow them, so Dick yanks a little harder on his arm as he picks up the pace.

“Would you quit it!?”

“I can’t help it! It’s like a car crash, you can’t not look.”

“I’m having a very easy time not looking.”

“You’re immune, you’ve seen too many car crashes.”

“Wally!”

He finally turns around again, to Dick’s relief. If they ignore them long enough, and act boring enough, they usually go away. It’s only when Dick has to do something drastic that they ever pay any real attention.

Dick sneaks a glance at Wally, who’s staring ahead with an odd look on his face. He figures it’s some measure of discomfort still; Wally’s eyes are tight in the corners, his lips pressed together in a line. There’s a pang in Dick’s chest at the sight, and he’s about to offer some words of comfort, before Wally moves without warning.

He snaps his head back to glance at the paparazzi again, which Dick is about to snap at him for, then suddenly slings his arm around Dick’s shoulders. Wally pulls him closer, practically plastering him to his side, and presses his face into Dick’s dark hair to plant a kiss on the top of his head. Dick tenses up instantly, red to the tips of his ears.

It’s not like Wally’s never held him before, but it’s not often that he’s this openly affectionate.

“What are you doing?” Dick hisses through clenched teeth. “Do you want to fuel those rumors?”

Wally shrugs, glancing down and winking at Dick so quickly he almost doesn’t catch it. It sends Dick’s heart leaping into his throat. “Why not?”

Dick’s jaw drops in surprise, feeling Wally’s hand start to trace circles on the back of his shoulder, sending shivers down his spine. “But-”

Suddenly, the sound of camera shutters gets a lot louder, the paparazzi catching up with them.

“Mr. Grayson!”

“Dick, who’s your new beau?”

“Turn around!”

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dick bites his tongue, knowing he’s going to regret doing this, before curling his own arm around Wally’s waist. He’s doing it so he can pull his friend along faster, which he does, but he knows it’s just going to make them more bloodthirsty.

The cameras start snapping faster.

“Dick, are you dating now?”

“How long have you been together?”

“You have a thing for redheads?”

Dick pushes down the urge to turn around and give them a mouthful, just walking a bit faster. Wally matches his pace easily, still glancing over his shoulder. Dick doesn’t have the energy to stop him anymore.

Wally leans a little closer. “I have an idea…”

“Because your last one was so great…”

“Promise not to hate me?”

“Too late.”

“Fair enough.”

“Don’t you da-!”

Wally turns to the paparazzi, flashing a charming smile over his shoulder. “Mr. Grayson isn’t taking questions right now.”

“Dude, what are you-”

Without warning (again), Wally bends down and scoops Dick into his arms, who yelps in surprise as his feet leave the ground. The paparazzi go wild, snapping pictures as fast as they can, but Wally’s already taken off down the street.

Dick throws his arms around Wally’s neck to hold on, staring at his friend in a mix of amusement and outrage. “You asshole!”

Wally grins, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he picks up the pace. He’s running just fast enough that the photographers can’t catch up, but not so fast that it’s in-human. His eyes are glinting with mischief and Dick is trying really hard not to love that.

“You love me.”

“Not anymore.” His red cheeks and rapid heart beat definitely don’t contradict that sentence.

Wally turns a corner, and Dick glances over his shoulder to peek at the paparazzi. They’re falling way behind now. “Hurtful. I just saved you from your crazed fans.”

“You’ve made it so much worse.”

“Not like it means anything, they can think what they want.” Wally’s grip gets a little tighter around Dick’s legs. “They gone yet?”

Dick takes another peek. “Almost. Turn left into that alley.”

Wally skids around the corner, taking them into the shadows. The paparazzi disappear around the corner, unable to keep up with Wally’s long legs.

“You’re good.”

“Ready?”

“Go.”

Dick ducks his head against Wally’s collarbone as the world blurs around him, the speedster carrying him taking off like a shot. He doesn’t know where they’re going – he hopes it’s out of the city – but he’s accepted his fate at this point. No way of arguing with Wally West when he’s got an idea.

It’s not like it’s an awful place to be – cradled in Wally’s arms.

Not that Dick will ever admit that.

When the world finally comes to a halt, they’re standing in another alley. Still in Gotham, from the looks of the grungy walls towered over them, but probably on the other side of the city. Dick would know exactly where if they were on a rooftop, but the ground is where Wally’s expertise lies.

“Think we lost them.”

“Nooo, really?” Dick rolls his eyes, wriggling in Wally’s arms to be let down. Wally drops his hold on Dick’s legs, letting his feet touch the floor before uncurling his arm from around Dick’s side.

Dick does not mourn the loss of Wally’s touch. He doesn’t.

“We’re at a zeta, if you wanna get out of Gotham.” Wally stretches his arms over his head, his shoulders cracking with a satisfying ‘pop’.

Dick looks around and finds a decrepit old phonebooth at the end of the alleyway that they’ve both used many times before. Dick knows exactly where they are now.

He turns to his best friend, crossing his arms and giving him a very unimpressed look. “You do realize that you’ve now made your life a living hell.”

Wally cocks an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They’ll never leave you alone.”

“Nah, it’ll blow over.”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

Wally shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “So, they think we’re dating. What’s the big deal?”

Dick’s eyes narrow, processing that question for a minute and trying to swallow the lump that just leapt into his throat.

What the hell does that mean?

“I mean. I guess there isn’t one. But you’ll be beating them off with a stick within a week.”

“That’s fine.”

“You’re gonna hate it.”

“Okay.”

Dick can’t quite get how Wally is so fine this. Ten minutes ago, he’d been saying he couldn’t stand being in the spotlight. Now, he’s totally nonchalant.

Dick is very chalant right now.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Alright. But don’t forget, you did this to yourself.”

Wally chuckles, running a hand through his hair. Cool as a cucumber. “I know.”

Dick can’t decide if he wants to strangle him or kiss him. He smothers down both impulses, moving instead to shove Wally aside as he makes his way to the Zeta point.

“Hey!” Wally catches himself against the wall, pushing himself upright and jogging up behind him. “Aren’t you gonna thank me?”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

Dick smacks his arm. “What on earth would I thank you for?”

“Getting you away from the paps, of course.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“But I’m your hero- mmnh! Hey! No tickle spots!”

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littlestartemis · 5 years

Text

I have nothing better to do so I’ve decided to ramble my opinions on all of the pokemon rivals in sequential order. Under the cut cause I intend to go into detail on these.

Blue

This kid is a mixed bag for me. Part of his problem is that he just suffers from being a generation 1 character, which means only having one character trait apparently. Yes, he’s a jerk, the first ever jerk rival, and people love that, but being a jerk without nuance just makes you... loathsome. Even some of the weaker rivals, I still had these surprised moments of joy when my gameplay was halted to duke it out with them. With Blue? He’s the only one I ever uttered a groan at. “Oh good, this fucker has to waste me time and make me backtrack to a pokemon center to patch myself up before moving on.” The most insufferable thing about him is that no matter what, no matter how many times you put him in the dirt, he’s always convinced he’s so much better than you...

Until later games. It’s never stated what happened. If he had some self reflection, if Oak sat him down and told him to grow the fuck up, or what. But the next time we see him in the generation 2 games and onward, he’s still got this aura of smug confidence about him, but he seems more matured despite it. Like yeah, he’s hot shit, but you can be too if you work hard enough, maybe even almost as good as him. And while I love all of that for his character, that all comes after the fact. So as it stands, the Rival Blue, is lackluster, annoying, a headache, and undeserving of such a good fucking champion theme. Also the bitch has no unique rival battle theme unlike literally anyone else.

I’m also going to go into their music, though not nearly as much as their character.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5s4VYC9xR4

There are so many official variations and remixes and retoolings of the Kanto Champion theme that picking the “Best One” would be a practice in futility I think, so I just picked one of the better ones. What I have to say applies to pretty much all of them. And goodness, while I think Blue is a lukewarm rival it’s no wonder why this track has stood the test of time. Normally champion themes are in one of two categories, at least for me. The buildup themes, or the 0-100 themes. Some of them take some time to get there, to make you sweat a little as you realize who you’re dealing with, and some of them just kick down the door and GO. Blue’s theme though is interesting in that it kind of does both. It’s powerful, it’s oppressive in its composition and instrumentation, but there is just the tiniest buildup right after the bombastic kick off. I love it, it’s a strong theme with no real weaknesses.

5/10 rival, 8/10 character and theme

Silver

I think there was a time where if you asked around communities who long time player’s favorite rival was, a good majority would probably say Silver, and for good reason. He was another jerk rival, but with that fun little word I used before; nuance. He was mean, but rather than very deliberately being rude to you, it seemed more like he had other plans that you just happened to keep standing in the way of. He had a goal and he was going to accomplish it. And what was that? Curb stomping anybody brave or stupid enough to traipse around in a black and red uniform. This kid had a clear cut vendetta against team rocket, but instead of making him your ally with a goal like that, it set you as his obstacle every victory for you was one less for him, one less distraught rocket face he would get to see. And we even find out later why, and it’s fascinating. Giovanni’s kid? That’s utterly unique, and it really puts his hatred of team rocket and the idea of finding strength in others into a perspective you can really understand. Not to mention, there’s a bit of storytelling through gameplay with Silver that I’m sure most veteran pokemon fans know. So, he gets a Zubat on his team. Cool, right, edgy bat fits with the edgy tween. But at the very end of the game, when he’s been beaten time and time again and forced to confront why he isn’t strong enough, he realizes it’s because he’s been thinking only of his own strength, and not how much stronger his pokemon could be if they had his genuine care and support. And lo and behold, in his postgame battles, he’s got a proud, fully evolved Crobat on his team, which can only evolve with strong friendship. That’s good shit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZAV8mJY_Qs

For some reason it was kinda tough finding a decent rip of his theme. Ah well, this is easily one of the coolest rival themes. Much like Blue’s champ theme, it has this sort of oppressive energy about it, as if Silver isn’t even looking down on you, he’s just waiting to crush you and be on his way. He’s a fucking bad dude, and he’ll snuff you out however he can if it means he can get his shit done.

9/10 rival and theme

Brendan and May

This pair of nerds. They’re... interesting. I do feel like they get a worse rap from folks since they were the first friendly rivals and the ones to start the trend, and truthfully I have nothing against the idea of having friendlier rivals. If every rival was an asshole it would get really stale really fast. These two though... Well, there’s just not much to them. In the rival role, they’re Professor Birch’s kid, which is basically their entire motivation for going on a pokemon journey to start with. A glorified favor/errand to fill out the dex cause they just happen to have easy access to one. Us being around is purely incidental, and I’m pretty sure the only reason they initially have an interest in us is because we’re Norman’s kid, a gym leader’s kid (dark shoutout to Brendan for throwing some nice 2002 sexism in his introduction with “Oh, you’re a girl? When I’d heard our neighbor was a gym leader’s kid, I was kind of hoping you’d be a boy.”) They get some extra significance in ORAS, which is much needed, having them around for a few Team Aqua/Magma encounters and even one last hurrah battle after you become champ to make up for throwing in the towel like a bitch after Lillycove. I don’t have much nice to say about them, but that’s mostly because I don’t have much to say about them, and what’s there is just... there.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rP0OXxc-zk

I’m not sorry. So, with our first friendly rival is our first more chipper rival theme. And truthfully, I like it! It’s very high energy, and has this twinge of suspense partway through to remind you that they have a wailmer you son of a bitch and you will respect the shit out of it under the cycling road. It’s bouncy, it’s fun, and it still has just the edge it really needs to be a proper battle theme I think.

4/10 rivals, 6/10 theme

Wally

And possibly the reason Brendand and May are so Just There. Wally. Now, I’ll say up front, I have a massive Gardevoir/Gallade bias, they’re my absolute favorite pokemon of all time, so having a rival character themed entirely around the pokemon family? Yeah that gets some free points from me. But earnestly, even without that, for as little as he appears he really is the true rival of the game. It’s a short story, but one you can rally behind. This sickly kid who isn’t even capable of catching his first pokemon without supervision and has to move to a small town with clean air just to like, function properly. But with dreams of becoming a pokemon trainer. He has the knowhow, he downloads apps he can use and study, he’s done the research beforehand for what all he needs to know, and after we set him straight in Mauville, he goes on his own journey separate from our’s. And when we see him again... what a god damn transformation (how do you become a badass by just unbuttoning your shirt). He really did it, he worked his ass off, and he made it to the pokemon league, he got a fucking mega stone - two mega stones actually since he gives you one - and he isn’t that same weak kid from the start of the game. He’s your equal, and you will respect him, if not for his power, then by the effort he had to put in to get to where he is now.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_CiTJJg5_s

Why is this song so short. Powerful, resolute, triumphant, and 40 seconds long what the fuck. Length aside, this is the song Wally absolutely deserves, without question. I can’t express it anymore than in those few words. It’s the theme of perseverance, and the strength you can attain by never giving up.

8/10 rival, 9/10 theme

Barry

What a perfect bundle of energy. Barry is another friendly rival, but not just because he’s nice or something. No, he’s your friend, your childhood friend, and he treats you like it. He’s nice and is clearly happy to go on this adventure with you, but he also slams into you without saying sorry or feeling like he really needs to, and threatens to fine you billions of dollars if you’re late for your super important meeting on the outskirts of town. He is fucking chaotic dumbass personified, with such brilliant strategies as “run through the grass so fast the wild pokemon can’t catch us”, “let’s say thanks to the professor for giving us these novice pokemon by catching a legendary pokemon”, and “here’s the perfect foolproof winning strategy: never miss and never get hit, you’ll win every battle gauranteed”. And god dammit if he isn’t endearing for it. He’s your best friend, and has your best interests at heart, going so far as to take the fall with Rowan when he thinks his dumbass plan might lose you both the chance to get your first pokemon. But, he also wants you to be damn sure that the next time you see him he will be stronger, and he will beat you, and he will be the champion first, and is that one of those walls you put your face in to take a funny picture holy shit check it out I’m a croagunk haha. If you don’t like Barry, you’re taking the games too seriously, and I suggest you get in touch with your inner child because they’re probably starved for fun characters in your media.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hv8g5u55QFA

Did I say high energy because I meant high energy. A battle theme for the sugar high in all of us, he’s just so fucking excited to battle you again. Much like Brendan and May, there’s the tiniest hint of suspense later in the song, but it’s much shorter and less pronounced here. Because it’s not so much a battle with much at stake so much as two best friends having a good old fashioned round against one another for shits and giggles.

9/10 rival, 7/10 theme

Cheren and Bianca

If you had asked me a month ago what I thought of these two I don’t think I’d have had much good to say. Or... much to say at all, for that matter. For reasons that are very unclear to me now, generation 5 didn’t stick with me like others, and that’s actually kind of upsetting since I just recently finished playing through White version again. And boy, do these two have character in spades.

I’ll start with Cheren. Cheren is great, because he’s actually almost a jerk rival, and I get the feeling if you weren’t supposed to be prior long time friends he actually would be. He’s very cool and calculating, and not too shy about getting pissy with each loss. He’s happy to lend you a hand, giving you tips, items he’s found that might be helpful, and fighting beside you against Team Plasma at a few turns. Something that stuck out to me was how nearly every rival battle was punctuated by “We both have the same number of badges now, so we should be on equal footing. Let’s put that to the test.” And each time, he’s not just being mad that he lost and then storming off, he’s very outwardly trying to deconstruct why he’s losing. You could almost picture him with charts and tables out, nose buried in his X-Transceiver screen between destinations, absolutely sure he missed some key strategy you used or that he simply overlooked. He’s very much the “power for the sake of power” rival at the start of the game, until the champion and the events with Team Plasma force him to confront his own flawed, short sighted goals. He can’t just Be Strong, he needs a reason for that, and that reason is ultimately protecting not just people important to him, but everyone. And that is just. So god damn cool. It extends to his eventual teaching role. Not only will he get stronger on his own, but he’ll teach others to be stronger, and in turn they’ll protect others too, and so on. And I think that’s perfect character motivation through and through.

Now Bianca. Oh man, do I love Bianca. She’s somehow the living version of if you perfectly spliced an introvert and an extrovert. She’s charming, outgoing, friendly, encouraging, and... also very shy, humble, not one to speak up most of the time. At least at first. And it’s such a tiny, blink and you miss it character trait, but every time she looses she needs like a full five seconds to hide her face under her hat before speaking again. Losing to you time and again does get to her, but she’ll be damned if she lets that deter you and your progress. It’s not your fault she lost, it’s her’s for not being stronger, and she ultimately realizes it’s because while she’s enjoyed raising pokemon and going on this journey, battling just isn’t where her heart is. But she still went on the journey, and fought to go on it, arguing against her father’s wishes for her to return home, and fighting by your side however she can through the debacle spreading over the region. She learns to stand up for herself and what she wants when she actually wants it, and even though in the end she might have been good enough to challenge the league if she kept at it, she realized it wasn’t for her, and that’s still ok.

I don’t have much to add on regarding Cheren and Bianca’s roles in B2W2, beyond that it’s such a delight seeing them both realize their true purpose and being really happy with where they’ve wound up. Also I love their new looks.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yr5Taoyalo

Their theme invokes the same sort of feeling as Barry’s in the sense that this is less about beating the other person and more about two friends having a good time with some friendly competition. Any sense of suspense is almost nonexistent, and the fun factor has been cranked up. It’s bubbly, it’s cheery, and it never really lets up, and while I do think that makes it kind of weak as a theme representing both of them, it makes for a fun song.

9/10 rivals, 6/10 theme

So like, I know BW/B2W2 are older games, but, spoilers for plot stuff.

I’ve heard a lot of arguments regarding whether N even counts as a rival instead of an antagonist outright, but I personally think he’s meant to be the rivalry edge to make up for Cheren and Bianca being so buddy buddy, like they were trying to address the friendly rival complaints after the last two games. And N is certainly a fascinating beast (hah), being very intentionally directly designed to be the dark antithesis to the standard pokemon protagonist character. The protagonist doesn’t speak at all, he speaks too quickly. The protagonist’s goal is very vague and broad, simply being “the best”, while N’s is powerfully stubborn and full of conviction. And of course it’s right there in the design, he’s even got the hat. N is also a very tragic character, intentionally raised and taught from childhood all for the purpose of being Ghetsis’ perfect tool towards world domination. He can literally speak with pokemon, he doesn’t get people, and interestingly up until the final battle in the game, he exclusively catches and uses local pokemon when you meet him, presumably releasing them once his friends have helped him test your own resolve. Team Plasma eventually splits into two factions in B2W2, those who truly believed in their ideals, that what they were trying to do was create a better world for people and pokemon alike, and those who were just using it as an excuse to be cruel dickbags and steal pokemon. If Ghetsis is the later, N is the former. This isn’t an evil plot for him, he isn’t some wicked mastermind working behind the shadows, he’s very clear cut and up front with you about what he’s doing, why he’s doing it, he even basically says “hey I could be wrong, I’m like 90% sure you’re also a hero so prove it and show me who’s intentions are more pure.” I love this guy, and I’m genuinely happy he ends up just living a happy life with his pet dragon wolf friend by the end of B2W2.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0ajBL15Knk

N’s theme is a weird one for me. I genuinely don’t enjoy the composition, but I can’t deny that it’s pretty perfect for him. This intentionally twisted idealist seeking all of the best things in all the wrong ways. It’s dark, fast paced, foreboding, and the ticking clock in this final version really sells that he won’t back down on creating what he truly believes to be a perfect world if you don’t get him to listen to reason. In short, wonderfully thematic, just not for me.

9/10 rival 5/10 theme

Hugh

I’ll be up front, I’m very overdo for a replaying of B2W2, so my recollection of Hugh is a bit foggy. That said, I do recall liking him. He’s high energy, but he also has a better handle on knowing how to direct said energy. Much like Silver before him, he’s very goal oriented and with a vendetta to work through, but rather than seeing your presence as an obstacle, you’re a trusted friend and ally, anything to make stomping out Plasma that much easier, and what better way to fight crime than with a friend at your side. I recall he had a habit of lashing out at strangers for being inattentive of their pokemon since his little sister’s purrloin got stolen (irony) by Plasma, but it comes from a place of good, so you can kinda get it. He’s well meaning, head strong, and a bit of a hot head, and while I need to reacquaint myself with him, I remember liking him alright if nothing else.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZDEr6_xzsM

Shockingly, his theme is a bit more subdued in terms of your average battle theme. It’s got a bit of an edge to it, and I love the shit out of those drums, but it still has that friendly ring to it. Oddly, it gives me more of a megaman vibe than anything pokemon. And trust me, that’s not a bad thing. Just a very strange song altogether though.

6/10 rival and theme, subject to change

Serena and Calem

I don’t recall how much of this is true for Serena, but I do seem to recall the two actually having somewhat different personalities. And Calem borrows a bit from what I liked about Cheren. He’s still being buddy buddy with you, but as each loss piles on, he starts to get more and more outwardly frustrated with himself over them. What’s he doing wrong? You’re supposed to be at the same level as one another, why can’t he pull out just one win? And he’s slightly less apologetic about it, so he is a bit of what I described with “what if Cheren was still your rival but not your childhood friend”. I want to say that Sarena is much the same, but it’s simply been far too long, and for what good points they’ve got even after two full playthroughs, they just... don’t bring much to the table, much like similar rivals before them Brendan and May. And man, speaking of not bringing much to the table...

The Friend Gang

Mmmm... let’s start with what I like about them. Because earnestly, there is an aspect about Tierno, Trevor, and Shauna (respectively) that I like. For all of our rivals up until now, you’ve had roughly the same goal. To conquer all 8 gyms, defeat the elite four and champion, become the champion yourself, and maybe save the world if you happen to be in the area at the time. And you know, world of pokemon, that makes sense it’s all well and good. But like, some people run businesses. Some people drive taxis, some are singers, some are artists, some are scientists, not everybody wants to be a world class ace trainer. And, neither do these three. Tierno is interested in dance, and seems to want to go out there just to see new moves and techniques to incorporate them into dance moves. Trevor is actually interested in and invested in filling out every shred of information in the pokedex, which is refreshing since you know, we usually get as far as like maybe 50 pokemon tops before just calling it quits. And Shauna, I’ll admit I don’t recall much of her, but I seem to remember her going out on her journey much for the same reason Bianca did. Do figure out what she actually wants to do in the first place. Unlike Bianca though, she never really finds it I don’t think. So, they’re trainers, but with their own unique goals in mind. That’s cool! ... and it’s also all there is to them. They’re extremely one note most of the time, and regrettably very forgettable. Calling them rivals at all honestly feels kinda generous.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73UoF45hBVQ

Imma be real with you chiefs, I’ve been listening to like every other Gen 6 song except this one while writing this. This could have easily just been the generic trainer battle theme in any other region, which... after my analysis, I’ll admit, kinda makes sense. These aren’t ace trainers or anything, they’re just... some friendly peeps doing their own shit who happen to know how to battle too. But, thematics doesn’t save a song on it’s own.

3/10 rivals and song

Hau

Hau is just... god damned precious. He’s loose, he’s chill, he’s excitable, but not always excited, and happy to go with the flow on things. He’s not your childhood friend, but he acts like that just means he’s got lost time to make up for once he gets to know you, more than happy to offer you up snacks and whatnot. He’s a fast and loyal friend, and surprisingly one with his own goal in mind that actually kind of weighs on him in the background. He’s the grandson of the island Kahuna, Hala, which means he’s eventually supposed to take that role from the old man. And that’s a huge responsibility for a kid who just wants to enjoy the sun and malasadas. But, it’s one he wants to live up to earnestly, and he’s willing to work towards. He just has a little trouble working past that initial fear of “how can I possibly be as good a kahuna as my grandpa”. Plus, once he makes a friend, he’ll fight for em, eagerly and happily going along with you to the Aether Resort when he finds out Lillie’s in trouble. Rain or shine, Hau’s got your back, and is easily one of the best friendly rivals to date if you asked me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BYcMPXxJrg

This one reminds me a lot of Cheren and Bianca’s theme but this time it’s a lot more fitting. It’s a fun and silly time, whoever loses doesn’t matter, so long as everyone’s having a good time! A bit of a boring song, but perfectly befitting the character, so it gets a bit of a pass.

8/10 rival, 6/10 theme

Gladion

I would say “who hurt you”, but we have the answer to that question, and it really helps propel Gladion and indeed the entire Aether family to the heights of “well written pokemon characters”. But, we’ll stick with just Gladion here. When we first meet him he’s just another skull flunky, but even then not really. For as pathetic as the skull grunts are (I love all of you but you’re so bad), even they make fun of him. He’s a nothing to nobody who has nobody, nobody but him and his weird dog. He is so much the rebellious tween but dammit if he doesn’t have a good reason with how horrible and abusive Lusamine became after her awry experiments with ultra space. He took their experimental pokemon for his own, ran away, and never looked back, just trying to live a happy life as best he can with Type: Null. He’s very hardened, and clearly not looking to go make any relationships, but eventually he does warm up to you at minimum as someone he can trust in battle, and by the end of the game someone he can see as an equal and maybe even friend. Really, calling him a rival is a bit off. He has no real beef with you or your journey, most of the time it seems like he’s just fighting you because he’s in a bad mood. But he’s a young man who’s been hurt badly, and wants to keep others from feeling that same kind of hurt, and obviously if he’s nice and strong then nobody can ever stop him from keeping himself and the people he cares about safe. The friendliest of jerk rivals who deserves the utmost care and protection.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDLj143lxVk

How to make a good battle theme: Step 1, slap bass. Step 2, there is no step 2. Jokes aside, I love this shit. It is utterly not in line with what you normally expect from a pokemon theme, and that kinda makes it work really well. It’s wild, it’s strong, and it denotes a kind of complexity to its energy. Not jaw dropping, but just a great slap.

8/10 rival and theme

#pokemon #rivals #mason says things #god that took longer than I thought I wish I knew when I started this

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blackkudos · 6 years

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Marvin Hagler

Marvelous Marvin Hagler (born Marvin Nathaniel Hagler; May 23, 1954) is an American former professional boxer who competed from 1973 to 1987. He reigned as the undisputed middleweight champion from 1980 to 1987, making twelve defenses of that title, and today holds the highest knockout percentage of all undisputed middleweight champions, at 78%. At six years and seven months, his reign as undisputed middleweight champion is the second longest of the last century, behind only Tony Zale, who reigned during World War II. In 1982, annoyed that network announcers often did not refer to him by his nickname, "Marvelous", Hagler legally changed his name to Marvelous Marvin Hagler.

Hagler is an inductee of the International Boxing Hall of Fame and the World Boxing Hall of Fame. He was named Fighter of the Decade (1980s) by Boxing Illustrated magazine, and twice named Fighter of the Year by The Ring magazine and the Boxing Writers Association of America (BWAA). In 2001 and 2004, The Ring named him the third greatest middleweight of all time and in 2002 named him the 17th greatest fighter of the past 80 years. The International Boxing Research Organisation (IBRO) rates Hagler as the sixth greatest middleweight of all time, while BoxRec rates him the sixth best middleweight of all time. Many analysts and boxing writers consider Hagler to have one of the best chins in boxing history.

Early life and amateur career

Hagler spent his early years in Newark, New Jersey's Central Ward. Following the Newark Riots of July 12–17, 1967, in which 26 people were killed and $11 million in property damage was caused, including the destruction of the Hagler family's tenement, the Haglers moved to Brockton, Massachusetts. In 1969, Hagler took up boxing after walking into a gym in the town owned by brothers Pat and Goody Petronelli, who became his trainers and managers. In 1973, Hagler won the National AAU 165-pound title after defeating Atlanta's Terry Dobbs.

Professional career

Early career

Hagler was a top-ranked middleweight boxer for many years before he could fight for the title. Hagler struggled to find high-profile opponents willing to face him in his early years. Joe Frazier told Hagler, 'You have three strikes against you, "You're black, you're a southpaw, and you're good.' He often had to travel to his opponents' hometowns to get fights. His first break came when he was offered --on two weeks' notice-- a chance against Willie 'the Worm' Monroe, who was being trained by Frazier. Hagler lost the decision but the fight was close, so Monroe gave him a rematch. This time Hagler knocked out Monroe in 12 rounds. In a third fight, he stopped Monroe in two rounds.

Boston promoter Rip Valenti took an interest in Hagler and began bringing in top ranked opponents for Hagler to face. He fought 1972 Olympics gold medalist Sugar Ray Seales; Hagler won the first time, the second was a draw and Hagler knocked out Seales in the third fight. Number 1 ranked Mike Colbert was knocked out in the twelfth and also had his jaw broken by Hagler. Briton Kevin Finnegan was stopped in eight. Afterwards Finnegan required 40 stitches in his face. He dropped a controversial decision to Bobby 'Boogaloo' Watts, but knocked out Watts in two rounds in a rematch. Hagler won a ten-round decision over 'Bad' Bennie Briscoe. By then, promoter Bob Arum took notice and signed him.

First title shot

In November 1979, Hagler fought World Middleweight Champion Vito Antuofermo at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas, Nevada. After fifteen rounds, most thought that Hagler had won. Hagler claimed the ref said he won, but the ref denied ever saying it. Hagler claimed he and many others were surprised when the decision was announced as a draw and Antuofermo retained his title. This only added to Hagler's frustrations. Hagler had the boxing skills and killer instinct to knock Vito out, but instead he played it safe and it cost him the title.

World champion

Antuofermo lost his title later to British boxer Alan Minter, who gave Hagler his second title shot. Hagler went to Wembley Arena to face Minter. The tense atmosphere was stoked further when Minter was quoted as saying that "No black man is going to take my title"—Minter would later insist he meant "that black man". Hagler took command and his slashing punches soon opened up the cut prone Minter. The referee halted the contest after 3 rounds. At the conclusion of this bout a riot broke out and Hagler and his trainers had to be carried away to their locker rooms by the police, in the middle of a rain of beer bottles and glasses. After 7 years and 50 fights, Hagler was World Middleweight Champion.

Hagler proved a busy world champion. He defeated future world champion Fulgencio Obelmejias of Venezuela by a knockout in eight rounds and then former world champ Antuofermo in a rematch by TKO in four rounds. Both matches were fought at the Boston Garden near Hagler's hometown, endearing him to Boston fight fans. Syrian born Mustafa Hamsho, who won his shot in an eliminator with Wilfred Benítez and would later defeat future world champion Bobby Czyz, became Hagler's next challenger, put up a lot of resistance but was finally beaten in 11 tough rounds. Michigan fighter William "Caveman" Lee lasted only one round, and in a rematch in Italy, Obelmejias lasted five rounds. British Champion (and mutual Alan Minter conqueror) Tony Sibson followed in Hagler's ever-growing list of unsuccessful challengers. Sibson provided one of the most entertaining (to this point) fights of Marvelous Marvin's career, but he ultimately fell short, lasting six rounds. Next, came Wilford Scypion, who only lasted four. By then, Hagler was a staple on HBO, the Pay Per View of its time.

Hagler vs. Durán

A fight against Roberto Durán followed. Durán was the first challenger to last the distance with Hagler in a world-championship bout. Durán was the WBA Light Middleweight Champion and went up in weight to challenge for Hagler's middleweight crown. Hagler won a unanimous 15-round decision, although after 13 rounds, Duran was ahead by one point on two scorecards and even on the third. Hagler, with his left eye swollen and cut, came on strong in the last two rounds to win the fight.

More title defenses

Then came Juan Roldán of Argentina, who became the only man to be credited with a knockdown of Hagler, scoring one knockdown seconds into the fight – which was clearly a slip to anyone who saw it. Hagler protested bitterly that he had been pulled/pushed to the canvas. Hagler took his revenge though, he introduced his thumb in Roldan's left eye, then brutalized him over ten rounds and stopping him in the middle of round ten. Sugar Ray Leonard was calling the fight ringside with HBO analyst Barry Tompkins. He noted to Tompkins between rounds that Hagler looked older and slower. "Marvin might finally be slowing down, Barry" Leonard remarked. Many people believe this is the fight that gave Sugar Ray Leonard the idea that he could actually win a fight with the aging Hagler. Hamsho was given a rematch, but the Syrian was again TKO'd, this time in only three rounds. Hamsho angered Hagler with a trio of intentional headbutts in the second round and a fourth early in the third, goading the normally patient and cautious Hagler into a full-out attack that left Hamsho battered and defenseless in a matter of seconds.

Hagler vs. Hearns

On April 15, 1985, Hagler and Thomas Hearns met in what was billed as The Fight; later it would become known as "The War." Hagler, despite a cut to the head and being covered in blood, managed to overpower Hearns in the third round after a glancing right hand followed by two more rights and a left, scoring a decisive knockout. The first round of Hagler vs. Hearns is often considered to be among the best three minutes in boxing in middleweight history as the two fighters stood toe-to-toe trading blows. Rounds two and three couldn't live up to the first, as Hearns broke his hand in the first round, but were still very competitive. The fight only lasted eight minutes but it is rightly regarded as a classic and is considered to this day to be Hagler's greatest achievement. Commentator Al Michaels uttered the now-immortal line, "It didn't go very far, but it was a beauty!" The fight was named "Fight of the Year" by The Ring.

Hagler vs. Mugabi

Next was Olympic silver medalist John Mugabi of Uganda, who was 25–0 with 25 knockouts and was ranked the number one contender by all three major bodies. The fight was fought on March 10, 1986 as Hagler had hurt his back and could not fight on the first date booked in 1985. Hagler stopped Mugabi in the 11th round of a brutal fight. Many ringside observers, including analyst Gil Clancy, noticed that Hagler was showing signs of advanced ring wear and age. He was much slower of hand and foot and seemed much easier to hit. He had also completely morphed his ring style from a slick, quick-fisted, boxer/puncher to a strictly flat-footed, stalking, slugger to compensate for his loss of speed and reflexes. Hagler was now said to be seriously considering retirement. Hagler's promoter Bob Arum was quoted as saying he was expecting Hagler to retire in the face of being challenged by Sugar Ray Leonard.

Hagler vs Leonard

The Super Fight

Hagler's next challenger was Sugar Ray Leonard, who was returning to the ring after a three-year retirement (having fought just once in the previous five years.) During the pre-fight negotiations, in return for granting Hagler a larger share of the purse Leonard obtained several conditions which would be crucial to his strategy; a 22x22ft ring, 12oz gloves and the fight was to be over 12—not 15—rounds. Leonard was 2 years younger, had half as many fights, and unbeknownst to Hagler, had engaged in several 'real' fights behind closed doors (i.e. gloves, rounds, a referee, judges and no head gear) in order to shake off his ring rust. The fight took place at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas on April 6, 1987. Hagler was the betting favorite.

Hagler, a natural southpaw, opened the fight boxing out of an orthodox stance. After the quick and slick Leonard won the first two rounds on all three scorecards, Hagler started the third round as a southpaw. Hagler did better, though Leonard's superior speed and boxing skill kept him in the fight. But by the fifth, Leonard, who was moving a lot, began to tire and Hagler started to get closer. As he tired Leonard began to clinch with more frequency (in total referee Richard Steele gave him over 30 warnings for holding, although never deducted a point). Hagler buckled Leonard's knees with a right uppercut near the end of the round, which finished with Leonard on the ropes. Hagler continued to score effectively in round six. Leonard, having slowed down, was obliged to fight more and run less.

In rounds seven and eight, Hagler's southpaw jab was landing solidly and Leonard's counter flurries were less frequent. Round nine was the most exciting round of the fight. Hagler hurt Leonard with a left cross and pinned him in a corner. Leonard was in trouble, then furiously tried to fight his way out of the corner. The action see-sawed back and forth for the rest of the round, with each man having his moments. Round ten was tame by comparison, as the pace slowed after the furious action of the previous round. Clearly tiring, Leonard boxed well in the eleventh. Every time Hagler scored, Leonard came back with something flashier, if not as effective. In the final round, Hagler continued to chase Leonard. He hit Leonard with a big left hand and backed him into a corner. Leonard responded with a flurry and danced away with Hagler in pursuit. The fight ended with Hagler and Leonard exchanging along the ropes. Hagler began dancing in celebration of his performance while Leonard alternately collapsed to the canvas and raised both his arms in triumph. Leonard threw 629 punches and landed 306, while Hagler threw 792 and landed 291.

Hagler later said that, as the fighters embraced in the ring after the fight, Leonard said to him, "You beat me man". Hagler said after the fight, "He said I beat him and I was so happy". Leonard denied making the statement and claimed he only told Hagler, "You're a great champion". HBO cameras and microphones supported Hagler's version of events.

Leonard was announced as winner by split decision, which remains hotly disputed to this day.

Post-fight reaction

Official ringside judge JoJo Guerra, whose 118–110 scorecard was derided in many quarters, commented that:

Judge Dave Moretti, who scored it 115–113 for Leonard:

Lou Filippo, who scored it 115–113 for Hagler and felt that Hagler's bodyshots and aggression earned him the nod, said:

Hugh McIlvanney, commenting in the British Sunday Times and Sports Illustrated:

McIlvanny also referred to Budd Schulberg's contention about a 'compound optical illusion', namely that simply being more competitive than expected meant that Leonard appeared more effective and to be doing more than he actually was. Harry Gibbs, the British judge who ironically had been rejected by the Hagler camp, said he also scored it for Hagler.

Jim Murray, long-time sports columnist for the Los Angeles Times felt that Leonard deservedly got the decision, arguing that Leonard landed more punches and showed better defense and ring generalship, and writing:

The scorecards from the ringside press attest to the closeness of the fight (6–5, 3 drawn) more pundits awarded the fight to Leonard rather than to Hagler, although counting those who scored it even, more felt Hagler deserved to keep his title than did not:

Rematch

Hagler requested a rematch but Leonard chose to retire again (the third of five high-profile retirements announced by Leonard), having said he would do so beforehand. Hagler himself retired from boxing in June 1988, declaring that he was "tired of waiting" for Leonard to grant him a rematch. In 1990, Leonard finally offered Hagler a rematch which reportedly would have earned him $15m, but he declined. By then he had settled down to a new life as an actor in Italy and was now uninterested in boxing. He said "A while ago, yeah, I wanted him so bad, but I'm over that." At the 1994 Consumer Electronics Show Hagler and Leonard had a mock rematch by playing against each other in the video game Boxing Legends of the Ring, and claimed that an actual rematch was being planned.

Training style

Hagler had a unique training regimen in which he would hole up on Cape Cod in motels that had closed for the winter. For his "road work" he would take to the pavement in army boots, declaring running shoes "sissy shoes." He would run much of his route backwards to prepare for movements in the boxing ring.

Professional boxing record

Career after boxing

After the loss to Leonard, Hagler moved to Italy, where he became a well-known star of action films. His roles include a US Marine in the films Indio and Indio 2. In 1996, he starred alongside Giselle Blondet in Virtual Weapon. Hagler has provided boxing commentary for British television. Another foray into the entertainment field includes work in the video game Fight Night: Round 3.

Personal life

Former middleweight southpaw boxer Robbie Sims is Hagler's half brother. Hagler has five children with his first wife, Bertha, including Charelle, Celeste, James, Marvin, Jr., and Gentry. Although he owns a home in Bartlett, New Hampshire, Hagler currently lives in Milan. In May 2000, he married his second wife Kay, an Italian woman, in Pioltello, Italy.

Awards and recognitions

Named Fighter of the Decade (1980s) by Boxing Illustrated

Named Boxing Writers Association of America Fighter of the Year for 1983 and 1985.

Named Ring Magazine Fighter of the Year for 1983 and 1985.

Inducted into both the International Boxing Hall of Fame and the World Boxing Hall of Fame in 1993.

Wikipedia

#Marvin Hagler #05-23

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